Of this poem it may be said, that the style is, in general, good, and the numbers, with very few exeptions, uncommonly smooth and harmonious. The pause is varied with considerable judgment; and instances are rare, where the ear is grated by a harsh collocation of words, or an unskilful assemblage of discordant syllables. The first ten lines, in the opening of the poem, would not suffer by a comparison with some of our best compostions in blank verse. The author is sparing of the metaphor; and this is, in our opinion, a proof of his judgment; but when he uses it, he generally does it correctly, and consistently with the best rules laid down for composition. From the construction of his verse, he has, evidently, been very conversant with Thompson, and, we think, we can, sometimes, perceive him borrowing with considerable fredom. In the picture of morning, the following line, "His beams dance on the misty mountain's top,” reminds us of Shakspeare's celebrated description, where "The morn in russet mantle clad, Stands tip-toe on the misty mountain's top.” We mention this to put the author on his guard. We do not mean to say, that he was conscious, at the time, of copying so closely from Shakspeare, but such strong coincidencies ought to be studiously avoided. We are, however, instantly, gratified with a beauty, which more than compensates the want of originality in the preceding line. We allude to that part of the same passage, where the sun's beams "Gild the soft plumage of the warbling tribe." This is one of those delicate touches, for which it will be in vain to look, except in the productions of him, who paints from nature. Elfrida's request to Alfred, "Partner of all my hopes, and all my fears," (of which we have already spoken) reminds us too forcibly of some of those beautiful expressions of tenderness, which Eve addresses to the father of our race ;-but, perhaps, it is scarcely possible to describe with truth the fine feelings of conjugal affection, without imperceptibly gliding into the manner, and borrowing, almost insensibly, the inimitable language and sentiments of Milton. In the description of the retreat of Alfred, we find "environed round with fens."-This is evident tautology. In the following example there is a defect in the measure of the second line, which, from the general correctness of the author, we did not expect: "Both armies stood, while front to front oppos'd, To make the measure perfect, for empire some word of one syllable must be substituted. We will take this occasion to remark, that, although in heroic verse the eleventh syllable is admissible, it ought never to occur but at the conclusion of a line; as in the following instances: "Worth makes the man, the want of it the fellow."-Pope. "Yon trembling coward, who forsook his master.”—Home. We know, that each of the following lines of Gray contains eleven syllables: "Full many a gem of purest ray serene, Fall many a flow'r is born to blush unseen.". But it will be observed, that, to suit these lines to the measure, we are forced to read the words in italics as if they consisted only of three syllables; and this we are enabled to do from the word many ending with a vowel, and being immediately followed by another. In the apostrophe to Columbia the words corn and adorn occur at too short a distance from each other, and excite a sort of jingling sensation, which destroys the character and beauty of blank verse. At the 237th line we are sorry to observe the following instance of inatten tion: "Full proudly o'er the main Triumphant rides the fleet; while commerce' sails The sails of commerce will not admit the abbreviated genitive case with any degree of propriety or elegance. To some this remark may appear unimportant; but they, who know the value of a correct ear, and of an habitual attention to smoothness of versification, will not think it altogether undeserving their notice. Upon the whole, when we consider this poem as a scolastic exercise, and the production of a youth of eighteen, we cannot withhold from it our warmest approbation. But while we thus indulge our feelings in expressions of commendation, we are led to inquire, where are the talents, which gave such unequivocal proofs of early excellence ?-We are, by no means, of the number of those, who recommend poetry as a profession. The muses are agreeable companions, but we do not wish to see the whole of time devoted to their service. They require too much attention for the serious occupations of life, but they have charms to enliven the gloom of a vacant hour, and to soften, by the witchery of song, the rigours of severer studies. In a country, like this, where the arts are yet in their infancy, the rising sons of genius are loudly called upon to exert their talents for the honour of the land, which gave them birth. It is not, we think, risquing too much to infer, that the Author of Alfred is capable of producing a work, which might confer no mean dignity on the muse of Carolina. The flowers of genius and of taste, which opened, with such beauty, in the fair morning of his days, are now fully blown, and enriched with matured fragrance. Can we cease, then, to regret, if they are suffered "to waste their sweetness in the desert air?" NATURE DISPLAYED, &c. BY N. G. DUFIEF. (Continued from page 93. Vol. 2.) "TRUE grammar,”—says M. Dufief,—“ is, in fact, the continuation of the science of ideas." This assertion, as Gifford says, completely staggered us. -We should be loth to be found correcting a mad-man ; and yet mere folly seems unequal to the production of such exquisite nonsense.-Seriously, if the world shall be made wiser by this marvellous discovery, that "grammar is the continuation of the science of ideas,"—we shall be very forcibly reminded of what Pausanias tells us, when he says, that the Nauplians of old learned the art of pruning their vines by observing, that they thrived better after they had been browsed upon by an Ass.-The words of the Greek historian are,-“Ως ο ΟΝΟΣ επιφαγων αμπελς κλημα, αφθονώτερον ες το μEλXOV ATEQNVE TOV nagπov."-We all know, that the ass was a favourite of Silenus; and, for that reason, the ass's head was; -but why tell what all the world knows? An idea is an image impressed upon the organs of sensation by some material object: words are merely arbitrary signs to designate certain things; language is made up of words; and grammar is the reduction of a language into general and fixed rules. There is no necessary connection between the idea and the word, which is used to express that idea; for every different language employs a different word to express the same idea; nay, almost every different language uses more than one word to express the same idea; and every language is in the habit of occasionally changing certain words, which were wont to express certain ideas, and of adopting other words to designate those ideas. But the ideas, or images of material objects, never change; they must always remain the same, as long as the Almighty God continues to make the senses of man the inlets to human knowledge.-The sun-the moon-the ocean-all remain the same, and the ideas, which they impress on our minds, remain the same, by whatever numerous or different names these material objects may be called, or their ideas, or images expressed in different lan guages, or in the same language.-There being, then, no necessary connection between ideas and words, how is gram-` mar" a continuation of the science of ideas?"-Indeed, we do not scruple to declare that we are altogether ignorant of the "science of ideas" itself, much more of its continuation; having never yet heard, that ideas were ever reduced to a science. Where are they arranged; how are they classed; under what general rules and principles are they marshalled? Until we are informed of these high matters in science, we must beg leave to be excused from endeavouring to affix any meaning to that, which we do not understand; and far, indeed, very far from us and from our friends be the temerity of attempting to discover the meaning and the import of the philosophical effusions of N. G. Dufief. Next follows M. Dufief's new and expeditious method of teaching the French language. The reader, probably, will, very gladly dispense with any further notice of this plan, when he is informed that," it contains three Vocabularies, collections of familiar and proverbial phrases, and numerous dramatic selections, &c."-all of which,-note, gentle reader!-all of which the pupil is "to learn by rote;"-as a prelude, we suppose, to entering upon D'Alembert's plan of -"getting a dictionary by heart." We are, then, informed, that "the Abstract Nouns of this vocabulary-(i. e. the second vocabulary)—have been ranged in alphabetical order; though it might have been more philosophical to class them according to the probable order of their admission into language; this would have cost much labour, while the advantage offered to the learner would be inconsiderable.”—And in a note subjoined to this observation we are told," that it would, perhaps, be the most difficult problem, that a metaphisician could solve." In which last remark we entirely concur with M. Dufief, and, moreover, are of opinion, that even his metaphysical prowess, marvellous as it is, would not be competent to the performance of such an undertaking. We have, then, another note to tell us, that "the French language is universally acknowledged to excel in this respect, VOL. II. U |