the towers, which perhaps might have assumed a more spiral shape. The number of its minute beauties are astonishing.' pp. 160-163. Premature death has snatched this young, but skilful antiquary from his friends and from the arts. His imperfect work is edited in a very able manner by his friend Lord Aberdeen. The "Observations" are a collection of notes from different authors, and from actual survey, on the subjects enumerated in the title page. There appears no reason to question their general accuracy, and in its present form the publication will be found, we think, a convenient and useful vade-mecum for the antiquarian traveller. Art. XII. Portugal; a Poem, in two Parts. By Lord George Grea ville. Second Edition. 8vo. pp. 120. Longman and Co. 1812. NOTWITHSTANDING the diversities of styles and subjects, by which the writers of poetry are distinguished, they may all, we think, be conveniently arranged into two grand classes-the lovers of sense, and the lovers of sound. By the former party, no composition is thought worthy the name of poetry, which has not some pretensions to meaning. The mere circumstance of a man's writing in measured syllables, does by no means, they maintain, exonerate him from the duty of being intelligible. If even the musician is not tolerated, who links together a number of notes, without having any thing in view beyond the mere sequence, how much less is it to be endured, that language should be made to submit to a treatment so ignominious. They grant, indeed, that good sense and good poetry are far from being one and the same thing: they put as much faith as their rivals can do, in the power of imagination, and have not the slightest objection to see themselves well dressed. But then would any man, they ask, with his faculties in order, think of putting himself to the expense of decorations, before he has got something to adorn? To the men of epithets, however, all this seems to the last degree rigid and unfeeling. Would you cross-examine and brow-beat a tender couplet, they exclaim, as if it were so much law or logic? Genuine poetry, permit us to tell you, resembles the sun, and, like that luminary, will not bear to be searched too deeply. To insist so extravagantly on the importance of meaning, betrays a total insensibility to the "magic of expression." The grand charm of poetry consistsin the quality, not in the matter of the diction. On low and common occasions, indeed, it may be proper to regard language as the exponent of thought: but with the favourite of the Müse the case is widely different. "Dicere res grandes nostro dat Musa poeta." He sports uncontrolled in the regions of metaphor; he acknowledges no tutor save the inspiration of his own "big prolific bosom:" his object is to crowd every lustrous line" with verbal beauties; to instituté an aristocratic vocabulary; and to impart to his diction such an "exquisite" degree of polish and refinement, that, by means of such and such verbs, adverbs, nouns, adjectives, and participles, placed in such and such form and order, the understanding shall be carried away captive, while the ear is thrown into extacies. Now can any thing be more insufferable, than to set in judgement on us and ours, in the cold, unsparing spirit of criticism, to read on with a face of wonder, and gravely ask us, at every turn, what we would be at? Ye common-place creatures, we write for minds" congenial and susceptible"-not for you: nor will you ever be able duly to estimate our merits, till you have learned (O seri studiorum!) that taste has no greater enemy than reflection. A very cursory perusal of the volume before us, will be sufficient to ascertain in which of these contending classes its noble author must be included. He is, in truth, one of the most promising disciples of the Cruscan school, we have for a long time encountered; and from the circumstance of his poem having so speedily arrived at a second edition, we may conclude he has found no small favour in the bosoms of the congenial and susceptible" persons, who patronise that species of inditing. The Cruscan popularity, indeed, is seldom very longevous; but its admirers make up in fervour what they want in constancy: and it fortunately happens, that no sooner does one bubble break, than another distends itself, in its turn to vanish and be succeeded by a third. In the production it is our present good fortune to examine, every line is luminous and enchanting. With one step noon-tide,' and another glowing, we are led by faery forms through scenes, where faery fingers, shed Their twilight visions o'er the wanderer's head :' (p. 76.) At one time we are invited to scan' the curling surges,' at another to inhale the balmy breeze' now we thread the wildering maze in dubious darkness,' then again emerge into mild glows' and 'vertic beams: till at length In purple streaks the days last blushes sweep ;' and we are all at once startled with the questionWhat means that murky light That gilds with trembling ray the brow of night, We do not wish to be understood as insinuating that this is a precise outline of the gentle writer's plan. In the prismatic species of composition, method, it is well known, is one of the last and lowest considerations. The action of the poem before us is quite remarkable for its simplicity. Expressed in the imperative style, it is concisely this-walk up hill-sit, or throw yourself down-and look about you. If the sun happen to be setting, so much the better. In the present instance, the effect produced by the last beams of day, was truly strik ing, and was not a little calculated to produce the CHAIN of feelings here attempted to be described' Of this chain, be it now our privilege to produce' a few characteristic links. And first of all for the imagery, which is scattered with a very profluent hand throughout the performance, and in the management of which the noble author evinces singular adroitness. The poem opens with the following address to Lusia, which the author is supposed to declaim (gratis anhelans!) as he ascendeth the mountains of Cintra. "Lusia! while musing on the wayward fate Which rules the scale of Europe's doubtful state, 6 Its fondest dreams, its warmest prayers with thine." p. 3. In ordinary cases, we should not hesitate to affirm that such a refusal would be very practicable. To convert a heart, especially an ardent one, into a rope walk, appears at first sight a business of considerable difficulty. But nothing is insuper able to a true metaphorical contriver: and, in the present emergency, the effect produced' by the dexterous application of the spark, cannot be too warmly admired. Indeed the influence of this agent appears to be much more extensive than has usually been suspected. Witness the lines following. And by that SPARK which patriot feelings rear Sacred to virtue, and to memory dear, Which calls each nobler passion into play, And warms the dawn of genius into day, Points through fair valour's paths to fame and joy, And forms the hero, while it fires the boy." p. 76. Who would have thought it?-A monument, a trumpet, a sun, a finger-post, a mould, and a faggot. O brave spark! We read moreover, of ties Which prompt the dreams of youthful enterprize.' and are assured that The world may yield to calm regret a part though this last couplet is perspicuity in the abstract, come pared with a burst at p. £2. Beats there the heart which ne'er hath own'd that flame The soul which ne'er hath felt a genial RAY Its buxom greetings on the morning gale?' What the noble author can have intended by representing a ray glowing to a drum and trumpet, or starting at a bugle, it would be as difficult for us to conjecture, as to reconcile the period with the commonest rules of syntax.-But the most arduous effort at the metaphorical, perhaps, is in the following passage, where the personification of Lisbon as a figure, is finely blended with the description of it as a place. Eastward I turned, where Tejo's glimmering stream In melting distance owned the dubious beam. Whilst her white SUMMITS mocked the rude command Of the dark HILLS that fence her distant strand ! !' p. 8. Another poetical practice in which our author considerably excels, is that of alliteration. There are not a few passages, indeed, which depend for their effect entirely on the judi cious disposition of this auxiliary force, and every page of the poem is more or less indebted to it. We have favouring floods,' and heathy hills,' and 'balmy breezes;' 'pomps' alternately pious' and 'ponderous; fair fights,' "heavy hearts,playing passions,' foul forms,' and green greet ings, with fifty more. The following are examples more at length. • Marked you yon moving mass, the dark array Of yon deep columns wind its sullen way, 'Low o'er its barded brow, the plumed boast Glittering and gay of France's wayward host?' p. 57. - their birthright now No longer blazoned on each manly brow. p. 37. • Shall prophet fancy weave the fairest wreath From letters pass we on to words, and here we observe a complete system of favouritism. Among the verbs, the following are distinguished with peculiar attention. To own: To gild: look around Where Nature owns but the horizon's bound.' P. 20. a part Of the pure flame that fires the soldier's heart, No! let the chastened glance of hopes like thine And GILDS her lowering front with brightest ray.' To scan: (To examine nicely.' DR. JOHNSON.) from the brow Of that lone hill, he SCANS the plain below. p. 17. SCANS the wide surface of the level main.' The admirable adaptation of these verbs to their respective situations, must be obvious to the most careless observer. Among the nouns in power, two of the most useful and respectable are glow and blush. Thus we read of westering blushes,' and of the volleying lightning's glow.' Addressing the sun, the poet opineth, that to fancy's eye he well might seem To view fair Nature's face with lessened glow. p. 56. And, a little before, animadverting on the conduct of the same luminary, on an iniportant occasion, he says— The unwilling sun, from out his heathy bed Sought with dark BLUSH the empyrean's breast, And peiled in PURER air his conscious crest.' pp. 55, 56. We observe also a considerable number of nouns, which are incessantly called upon to do the duty of adjectives. Yet sweet it is, when faery hands have wrought |