He does not succeed quite so well in Scotch as in English; however, we must give one specimen of this. We shall also give the prefatory note of the author himself.

"We doubted whether we ought to publish the following Song under the title of an English Melody; but the author, the elegant and erudite Member for Glasgow, the Roscoe indeed we may say, of Greenock, assures us, that it is as good English as he ever spoke in his life.

"After this testimony, we cannot hesitate to lay before our readers the following English Melody.

But our poet is no less successful in originals than he is in imitations.— Witness the following:

AN EXCELLENT NEW SONG.

To the tune of " A Cobler there was, and he lived in a Stall.”

Ye noisy Reformers who rant and who bawl,
Come listen to me, while I sing you of
Paul;*

Not him who, at Putney, gave Burdett
a fall,

But the worthy successor of Westminster
Paul.

Ye Billingsgate muses, ye dames of the

Hall,

Come sing from my ballad the praises of
Paul;

We Poets of Grub-street, who write for the
stall,

Had never a fitter Mæcenas than Paul.

"Kirkman Finlay, Esq. M. P. for Glasgow.

+"See Mr Brougham's motion, on the 2d April, 1816, relative to the remission of excise penalties.

"Evidently Paul Methuen, Esq.

"James Paul, Esq. (since deceased) wounded Sir F. Burdett, in a duel on Putney Heath.E."

If the air of a 'prentice, the face of a doll,
Were beauties, how lovely a creature were
Paul;

If a wig-block, well painted, the heart
could enthrall,

Even Freemantle's self could scarce rival our Paul.+

If a west-country tone, twixt a stutter and
drawl,

Were eloquence, Lord, what a speaker were
Paul;

If a model, with no more brains than a ball,
Were a head-piece, Oh dear, what a States-
man were Paul.

You'd swear he was bred up at Coach

makers' Hall,

Even Moonshine grew pale, and knocked

under to Paul.

He swears he belongs to no party at all,
And truly no party acknowledges Paul;
But, just as the Lion employs a Jackall,
The Whigs are so good as to tolerate Paul.
He had heard of the sudden conversion of
Saul,

And thought changing sides was befitting a
Paul;

But the Hebrew got reason and light by
his fall,

But dulness and darkness still stick to our
Paul.

His like we shall ne'er see again, all in all,
If any thing ever should happen to Paul;
And now should the sense of my Song ap-
pear small,

I beseech you remember, my subject is
Paul.

With blooming grace
He decks his face,

And smiles to shew his teeth;
And old threescore

Ne'er saw before

A Beau like Handsome SMITH.

VI,
Surpassing, sure,

Both MONK and MOORE,

In eloquence and pith;

The charms combin'd,

Of form and mind,

Unite in Handsome SMITH.
VII.

Then Britain-round

From Plymouth Sound,

Even up to Pentland Frith,

'Her voice should raise,
And sing the praise

Of Wise and Handsome SMITH.

There is an ingenuity in this little morceau, which might have done honour to our friend the Rector himself.

Political Alphabet; or, the Young Member's A. B. C.

A, was an ALTHORPE, as dull as a hog;
B, was black BROUGHAM, a surly cur dog;
C, was a COCHRANE, all stripp'd of his
lace;

D, was a DOUGLAS, who wanted a place;
E, was an EBRINGTON, dismal and dumb;
F, was a FINLAY, a hogshead of scum;

G, was a GORDON'S preposterous phiz ; ̧
H, was a HERON, a damnable quiz;
J, was a JOE JEKYL, whose law is a jest ;
K, was a KNOx, in a sinecure-nest;
L, was a LAMBTON, sour, saucy, and sad
M, was PAUL METHUEN!-a Dandy
gone mad ;

"These seem to allude to Mr Freemantle, Secretary of the Treasury in the Talents' Administration, who certainly wears a wig, but whether he deserves the imputation which the rest of the line conveys is not so clear.-E."

+"Mr Methuen was famous in private theatricals; it is presumed that he also be longed to the four-in-hand club,"

N, was big NUGENT, who " Portugal"
writ!!!

O, was an OSSULSTON, Small as his wit;
P, was poor PRESTON, stark mad about

oats;

Q, was a QUIN, who with neither side votes ;
R, was dark ROMILLY's hypocrite look ;
S, was a SEFTON,-Lord, coachman and
cook;

T, was TOM THOMPSON, a tinker from
Hool;

V, was a VERNON an asphaltic fool;
W, was a WARRE, 'wixt a wasp and a worm;
But X, Y, and Zed, are not found in this
form,

Unless MOORE, MARTIN and CREEVY be
said,

(As the last of mankind) to be X, Y and Zed.

66

Our extracts have swelled to such an extent, that we are almost ashamed to add any thing more to them; but our readers will be delighted with the last of our trespasses. The volume concludes with a very ingenious account of a parliamentary debate," the wit of which lies in shewing what strange results might be produced among men, could the cranioscopial systein be fully reduced to the certainty of a science, and did the constitution of our corporeal fabrics permit of our making little exchanges among ourselves of different parts of our respective skulls. Among others, the author supposes that Mr Henry Brougham, and the late excellent Mr Horner, had undergone an operation by which their respective organizations had changed places. We have a sincere pleasure in observing, that in spite of all his levity, this WIT even when a cheval, et en pleine galoppe, retains sufficient use of his judgment to make him pay due honour even to his adversaries. The character of Mr Horner did not admit of being sported with. There was that about him which made friends and opponents alike rejoice in the contemplation of his worth. The modesty and calmness of his manner sat so gracefully upon the clear and commanding power of his mind, and the gentleness of his humane heart was so conspicuous even in the most purely intellectual of his exertions, that it was no wonder he lived without a foe, and died without a slander.

“I was much surprised to see that the next two Gentlemen who presented themselves both came from the same side of the House; but when I recognised Mr HORNER and BROUGHAM, I felt that the arrangement was quite proper; as no two persons could be more opposed to one another in manners, character, and principles, than they, and that an union between them would be absolutely necessary to the establishing a general harmony,

"The operation had scarcely been finished on these Gentlemen, when Mr HORNER started up in the most impudent manner, and began a lengthy, violent, and coarse attack upon all mankind, from the Prince Regent down to Mr Abbot a brewer of Canterbury. He called every body by the grossest names, and when Mr PONSONBY rose to endeavour, as it seemed, to moderate his fury, he lent him such a box on the ear, as knocked the silver spectacles which he wore on his forehead into Mr PETER GRANT's right eye, and nearly prostrated the reverend leader himself on the floorbut what most surprised me was, the diarrhoca or flux which now flowed from Mr HORNER'S lips, and the eternal repetitions of the same thought in all the various

words and forms which the vocabulary of the vulgar tongue could supply; indeed there seemed no reason why he might not have gone on, stringing words, like beads, on one thread, for the whole night long; but a look of general despair, and a loud cry of question, confounded him, and obliged him to sit down; upon which I observed that Lord MILTON and Mr CHARLES WYNNE, between whom Mr HORNER had been before sitting, changed their places, and Sir FRANCIS BURDETT and Lord CocпRANE went up and shook hands with him.

"Mr BROUGHAM, on the contrary, had acquired, by the change, a sedate, solemn, and gentlemanly manner; he did not speak long, but he spoke well; he expressed a proper indignation against Jacobins, a manly contempt of Mountebanks, and the greatest abhorrence of bluster, quibble, evasion, and pettifogging; he picked up Mr PoNSONBY's spectacles, and presented them to him with a compassionate smile; he endeavoured to give a kind turn to the absurdities which Mr HORNER had uttered, and took his seat near Mr WILLIAM ELLIOT, with whom he continued in close and friendly conversation for the rest of the evening."

* One of Mr V's was laughed at for a metaphor about the fruits of the Asphaltic

lake.

On seeing a Spark full from Mr HOGG's Pipe.

HUSH'D were the scenes around ;-a slumbrous dream
Reign'd like the stillness of an autumn day ;-
Each man had yielded to the tranquil sway

Of silent thought ;-when, with a yellow gleam
Like that of an October morn, a stream

Of living fire, with supernatural ray,

Flow'd from the Shepherd's Pipe-one spark did seem
A wandering comet, ere it died away.

And, like that spark, my feeble morbid spirit
Lingers upon oblivion's dusky shore;-

But thou, my friend, by nature didst inherit

The robe that SHAKSPEARE, BURNS, and SPENSER Wore!Learn to write Sonnets, HOGG, and thou shalt merit

Applause, with deathless PETRARCH evermore!

April 1, 1819.

R. P. GILLIES.

SONNET.

To the beautiful Miss LUCY FORMAN.

On seeing her shaking Canaster from one Bag into another.
ALBEIT no narrowness lie in my creed,

But zeal impartial in all pleasures slaking

Its thirst, which men draw from the Poetian weed,
As phantasy by mouth or nose may lead,

Of smoking and of chewing and snuff-taking;

And albeit to my nostril doth proceed

No perfume from these bags which thou art shaking,

Such as might shock my nerve or horror breed

Repulsive; yet, oh yet my soul doth bleed,

When I behold thee thus: my heart is aching.
Fingers like these, sweet maid, o'er that fair mead
Of Enna strayed, a virgin garland-making,
When seized with swarthy coil and burning kiss,
As thee, Tobacco, Ceres' daughter Dis.
WILLIAM WASTLE.

April 2, 1819.

POEMS BY A MILITARY AMATEUR.*

It would be mere affectation in us to pretend to entertain any doubts with regard to the author of the present volume. It bears the marks of his genius too strongly, and is too full of his characteristic beauties and defects, to allow us for a moment to hesitate in attributing it to the pen of the same distinguished writer, whose productions have so mainly contributed to the celebrity of this Miscellany. Before we had read two pages, indeed, we were quite satisfied of the fact, and could have exclaimed with as much certainty as Erasmus-" Aut Dohertiades aut Diabolus." For Mr Odoherty to maintain an incognito under any circumstances, is indeed no easy task. His style is so peculiarly his own-so widely different from that of any of the other great poets of the day, that we can scarcely fail to recognize him under any disguise. There is nothing in truth more admirable in his character as an author, than his complete originality. His genius is too prolific, and the stores of his own fine imagination are too copious to lay him under the necessity of either borrowing from his contemporaries, or of imitating the great poets of antiquity. When Mr Ödoherty sings of war he has not the slightest resemblance to Homer; though he scatters his ordure with full as much grace as Virgil, yet his manner of doing so is very different from that of the stately Mantuan; and though his subjects frequently bear a strong analogy to those celebrated by Mr Wordsworth, yet the most sharpeyed critic would perhaps be puzzled to discover any similitude in their productions.

The views of external nature which he delights to take, display strong marks of an original and powerful mind. He chiefly deals in that homely yet true philosophy which has less regard to causes than effects; and he betrays much more disposition to view things as they really are, than as they seem to be. His vision, it is true, does not extend very far, but then it is clear and distinct. He neither views nature through a microscope nor a quizzing-glass, but exa

mines her with a good pair of gray eyes, which he finds to answer the purpose much better. Thus, in the mind of Mr Wordsworth, and probably in that of every other poet now extant, the sight of sheep browsing on the mountains-of lambkins sporting by the side of their dams-and the sound of the shepherd's pipe, would excite only ideas of innocence and beauty. The images, on the other hand, which such a prospect would suggest to Mr Odoherty, are those of flannel jackets and roast mutton. In his imagination the spectacle of the lordly ox is uniformly linked with the associations of a spit and of a smoke jack. Let him behold the horse with "his neck clothed in thunder," pawing the ground in his beauty and his pride, and he will think only on his price at Tattersalls, or what sort of figure he would cut in a buggy.

Another great charm of the poetry
of Mr Odoherty is the utter absence of
all affectation. We are delighted with
the insight which he affords us to his
own character, and charmed with the
conviction which he forces upon us-
that

"He is himself the great sublime he draws."
He is not indeed what Mr Hogg ele-
gantly terms Mr Carnegie—

The bard of tender tears and gentle sighs;"
for no man deals less in such ware
than the standard-bearer. His aver-
sion to all sentiment is quite as strong
as that of Sir Peter Teazle, and he al-
ways scorns to appear any thing bet-
ter than he really is. Thus while
Lord Byron is continually guilty of
the vile affectation of thrusting him-
self on the public under the masque-
rade character of Childe Harold, he
takes an honest pride in never suffer-
ing his readers to forget that he is
merely plain Morgan Odoherty, late
ensign and adjutant of the 99th, or
King's own Tipperary Regiment.
When he issues from the press, he
never takes the trouble of providing
himself with a bag-wig and a gold-
headed cane. He comes before us in
complete dishabille, and we feel the
same pleasure in beholding him that we
should experience in contemplating the

The Feast of Bellona, and other Poems, by a Military Amateur.-London, Bullock and Badcock, 8vo. pp. 223. 1819.

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