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"Beside her stood a noble form,
Bow'd like the oak beneath the storm;
Age, that had scatter'd o'er his brow
Its furrows deep and wint'ry snow,
Had spar'd each spark of feeling's ray,
Alive to fond affection's sway;

But this last stroke had wounded more
Than all the wrath of Fate before;
And, worse than years, or change, or woe,
Had laid that lofty spirit low :

It struck on every chord refin'd,
Which woke to anguish in his mind,
Whose master-tone in union wild,
Blended affection for his child;
With fervour for his country's weal,
Pure as her guardian spirits feel;
Yet mournful as that sacred tear,
Which heroes shed o'er Honour's bier :
But Hope had turn'd its cheering ray
Far from his country's closing day;
And shed its brightest, sweetest dawn
Upon his daughter's op'ning morn:
She was the day-star o'er his head,
Following a night of storms and dread
Though left a wreck on Fortune's wave,

That beam of Hope could guide and save." P. 108.

The minor poems are pretty, and the thoughts though none of them new, ure in general fairly expressed.

ART. XIV. The Days of Harold. A Metrical Tale. By Benjamin Rogers. 8vo. 414 pp. 12s. Newmau. 1816.

MR. ROGERS (not as we should suppose the author of the Pleasures of Memory) informs us in his Preface, that "despairing to obtain that meed of applause which is sometimes bestowed by the frigid commendation of fastidious critics, and hopeless of becoming a mental caterer to the reader of erudition, he would address himself to that humble class who are pleased they know not why, and care not wherefore."

We are very ready to own ourselves to be readers of this class, and so that we are but pleased, especially in poetry, to care very little for the cause of our pleasure. Mr. Rogers has presented us with a very thick octavo volume, containing, as we should conceive, some thousands of verses, which if they have little in



them to please the severer critic, have certainly very little to dis-
please him. To the reader of erudition Mr. Rogers refuses to
be a caterer, his Ordinary is open to more voracious appetites
and less fastidious stomachs. They therefore who are inclined
upon these terms to call in and take a slice of poetry a-la-mode,
will not be displeased with their fare of which the following is,
perhaps, the best specimen, we shall therefore expuse it ad cap-
tandum, like the well assorted salad at the eating-house windows.
"The chapel bell had ceas'd to chime,
That call'd round, at vesper time,
In Warwick priory, a throng
Of canons to the even-song;
While, on the sacred altar rais'd
Tall waxen tapers palely blaz'd,
The swelling organ, heard to sound,
Breath'd a full, solemn strain around,
That sung upon the chanter's ear
A prelude cadence sweet and clear.
Already, too, a lovely band

Of female choristers, their stand
Had taken in the choir, to sing
Their notes harmonious-answering
Responsive to the fuller strain
Rais'd by the priestly choral train;
And as the prelude tones expir'd,
While in the distance they retir'd,
Their dying echoes gently stole
Impressive on each hearer's soul;
Restraining fancy, prone to rove,
And lifting thought to realms above.
While music's whisper yet remain'd,
And silence and attention reign'd,
The organ's diapason swell
Again was heard the choir to fill,

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And straight with one accord the throng

Rais'd solemnly this vesper song.


Triune Deity, we bend

Low before thy throne of light!.


our anthems would ascend

To reach thy courts in regions bright.


Holy Virgin! saints on high,
Lend us a celestial strain

To aid the humbler minstrelsy
Arising from this lowly train!



"How shall human accents speak
Glories passing human thought?
How vain the tribute, cold and weak,
By mortals to his footstool brought!


"Sun be veil'd! thy piercing rays,
Shining with effulgent beams,
But faint and coldly speak his praise,
With whose high praise creation teems.

Gentle ev'ning's milder face,
Leading forth the train of night,
Shall bid the wond'ring gazer trace
His pow'r in countless orbs of light.


"Thus, when mighty angels roll
Heav'ns together as a scroll,

And suns and worlds are pass'd away,

And evening never dims the ray

That lights an everlasting day,

Great First Cause! thou still must be,

Th' immortal soul of immortality!"-P. 257.

ART. XV. Songs, and occasional Poems, on various Subjects. By Captain Hall, of the Indian Army, 12mo. 230 pp. 6s. Black and Co. 1816.

CAPTAIN Hall having given us, in his title page, the words Quid nos nocebit tentare, a motto, as we conceive, equally clas sical in its origin and correct in its Latinity, proceeds to dedicate the volume to the Earl of Moira. Captain Hall has been in India, we regret, therefore, that he did not leave his poetical effusions to console his distant friends. We are of opinion that they would have succeeded better in India than in England. This may arise, indeed, from our depraved taste; but we must fairly own our opinion that, however flourishing the martial laurels of Captain Hall may be, he has been unsuccessful in his attempt to intertwine them with the poetic bay. The best specimen, perhaps, in the volume, is an address upon the opening of a new Subscription Theatre at Calcutta.

"In distant climes, you can't expect. our boards, Can offer scenes, which Drury's fame affords;


But though we've not the force of Kemble's art,
Nor Siddons' tragic powers, to charm the heart,
Our zeal to please shall ev'ry fear suppress,
We may deserve, though not command success.
Then let this stage be destined to impart
Such scenes alone, as meliorate the heart,
T'exclude all bad examples from our play,
Plots which corrupt! and maxims which betray!
Licentious manners strictly to forbid,

And welcome worth, and honour in their stead!
To live in error, since the world began,
Has been th' inevitable lot of man:

If then that none unblemish'd you can find,.
Be to our failings, generously kind;
By your applause be all our fears allayed,
At your command, we blossom or we fade!
But hold! a star upon our dawn appears,
To chase our doubts, and dissipate our fears!
Since she has blest these shores, each drooping flow'r
Revives again, to bloom with double power;
Long may she live, each virtue to impart,
And prove a source of joy to every heart!
Hail to the day; which welcom❜d to our coast,
The statesman's model, and the soldier's boast;
Propitious hour, when Erin's friend appear'd,
By Prince and People, equally revered!
They, patriot like, each seifish aim withstood,
And gave their Country's pride, for India's good!
Since he has deign'd our efforts to befriend,
We cannot fail to conquer in the end :
Then let it be our object to beguile

Each drooping moment, by the Drama's smile,
By tales of woe, to win th' attentive car,
Excite to joy, or claim the pearly tear;
T'expose each folly clearly to our eyes,
And by such lessons, teach us to be wise;
The charms of virtue boldly to proclaim,
And point to all, the envied road to fame!
Το you, with anxious hope, we trust our cause,
Cheer us with smiles, and greet us with applause;
While deep engrafted in our breasts shall live,
The dear remembrance of the boon you give."

P. 82.

ART. XVI: On Gun-shot Wounds of the Extremities, requiring the different Operations of Amputation, with their After-treatment: establishing the Advantages of Amputation



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on the Field of Battle to the Delay usually recommended, &c. &c. &c. with four explanatory Plates. By G. J. Guthrie. 8vo. 384 pp. 12s. Longman and Co. 1815.

THE treatise before us is evidently the result of thought and experience, the style is clear and good, and the knowledge which it will impart to the student in military surgery must be very considerable. With some opinions however of Mr. Guthrie, we may not wholly coincide, though with a man of so much science and experience we should with hesitation differ. In his chapter upon the amputation of the limb at the hip joint we see much to admire and commend, though perhaps he may call our courage into question, as we confess ourselves not sufficiently bold to feel a desire of witnessing its performance. We could add a successful case which has happened within our own knowledge to the list of Mr. Guthrie, where the operation was performed by a very skilful and eminent surgeon at Stafford. The man recovered, and lived six months, dying at last of a fever, apparently unconnected with the wound. We need not however hint to Mr. Guthrie that to the exhaustion of the constitutional powers this very fever, a typhus as we believe, might justly be traced. A case indeed could very rarely occur in which we could wish to see the operation performed, and in no case should we ever expect to see the patient survive a year, even though the wound itself should be totally healed.

Mr. Guthrie strongly recommends immediate amputation in all doubtful cases among the recently wounded. In this we are inclined to agree with him much farther than his cotemporaries would allow. We consider it the most safe, and certainly the most merciful mode of proceeding. The preservation of a limb, could we be sure of preserving it, which would entail suffering and pain upon a poor soldier through the remainder of his days, can be no act of mercy; especially when amputation would certainly restore him to the enjoyment of an easy and comfortable life, at the expence only of a limb. A limb is indeed most precious, but we doubt whether both in domestic and military surgery, it is at all to be put into competition with ease and health. The following are Mr. G.'s observations on the case.

"After other battles, in which I have had the care of fractures of the femur, the success has not been so great, but they were generally under less advantageous circumstances; and from the sum of knowledge thus acquired on many occasions, I am induced to believe, that in this injury, amputation ought to be a more frequent operation than it is at present; and I think I am borne out in this supposition by the above statements, and by the general opinion of by brethren formed during the peninsular war.

"I think

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