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“ 'The rebels shall fly,
As with shouts we draw nigh,

And Echo shall Victory ring ;
Then safe from alarms,
We'll rest on our arms,

And chorus it, “ Long live the King !” This is poetry to the purpose,-no Long live Great George,” (Dr rambling about groves and doves, lips Boyce, 1730.) and sips; no raving about sobs and sun- - God preserve his Majesty,” (Dr flowers, and “ victory's moon;" but Blow, 1699.) proper words in proper places, and It is painful to pass over the poetry adapted to the capacity of volunteers. which gave force to those fine meloThe whole corporation of the Pierides dies. But Here's a health to our King could not have done it better.

has an irresistible claim on our comThis is followed by a long and wor- memoration, from its having been a thy list of

favourite of Swift, a name “unmusi“ Great George is King,” (1745.). cal to Volscian ears.” The poetry is

“ Here's a health to our King," first-rate in its style. (1700.)

“ Here's a health to the King,
And a lasting peace;
May the factious (the Whigs) be hanged,
And Discord cease!

“ Come, let us drink it while we've breath,
For there's no drinking after death ;
And he that will this health deny,
Down among the dead men let him lie.

Down, down, down, down! (ad libitum.) Yet it has competitors, and Dr Blow's renowned catch may rely on immortality, if such can be gained by pithiness of conclusion.

“ God preserve his Majesty,
And for ever send him victory,
And confound all his enemies!

..-Amen!"No, 11., written in 1700, has all the merits of the Augustan era. It is true, terse, triumphant, and Toryish.

“ Here's a health to the King, who has said from his throne,
That his heart is true English, as well as our own.
“ And the Church, fixed by law, is resolved to maintain
Through the course of his life, and the course of his reign.
“ Thus we need not to fear any danger to come,

While our arms rule abroad, and our King reigns at home.”
But Harrington's Round distances all the rest. The sentiment is as old as
the days of Alfred, and the phraseology was probably copied from the Runic.
It is the true sublime.

A Toast for the Enemies of Ow England.

“ Cobweb breeches, hedgehog saddles,
Jolting horses, stony roads,
And tedious marches, (in æternum.")

The volume must now be left to its triumph, but a parting glance will fall from time to time on some fragment of touching and resistless captivation. What can be more native than the fine naval contempt of the beginning of Fight on, my boys"

Ye rakes and ye beaus, that wear the red clothes,
Come fight for your country, and conquer your foes ;
For the old British tars, they never fear'd wars ;

So fight on, my boys, we shall beat them," &c.
The close of Jeremy Clarke's (1700) Song on“ St George,” is worthy of a
Greek epigram.

" All the world can't shew the like Saint.
All the sacrifice that we expend,
Is to drink fair, and to deal square,
And to love our friend."

No. 43.-" Come, my lads," should stand beside it in the Anthologia. It was written on a Spanish war.

Who cares a puff for France and Spain,

Soup maigre in alliance !
They'll soon be hang'd, as cross the main ;

We give them bold defiance.
“ The Monsieurs want some English beef;

Some pudding would delight them;
We'll fill their bellies, ease their grief ;

And afterwards we'll fight them.” This is incomparably British ; at once brave and benevolent, contemptuous and charitable. The idea of first feeding and then killing, could not have occurred to any other than a great nation, equally beef-eating and belligerent; the spirit of agriculture and ambition could go no farther.

The praise of beef is, however, a subject at once so national and individual, that we are surprised at the editor's moderation, (to give it no more invidious name,) in limiting the glories of the matchless nutriment of British heroism to a single song. That one is, however, an apotheosis–The renowned “Roast Beef of Old England,” (Leveridge, 1730.) 'The words have all the grace of fiction, and all the accuracy of history.

“ King Edward the Third, for his courage renown'd,
His son, at sixteen, who with laurels was crown'd,
Ate beef with their armies, so never gave ground !

Oh the roast beef of Old England, &c.
“ The Henrys, so famous in story of old,
The Fifth conguer'd France, and the Seventh, we're told,
Establish'd a band, to eat beef and look bold.

Oh the roast beef, &c.
"When good Queen Elizabeth sat on the throne,
Ere coffee and tea, and such slip slop, were known,
The world was in terror, if c'er she did frown.

Oh the roast beef,” &c. The fortunate celebrity of the song almost prohibits quotation; and the Laus Kitcheneri must close ; yet the “ British Grenadiers" “ detains the spirit still," and the reader shall have the parting delight of a few couplets from a composition whose mythology and music might have given new ardour to the troops of Leonidas, or reversed the fates of Chæronea. It is Greek in the highest degree, and breathes of a scholarship that must have made the author a phenomenon in the Guards.

The British Grenadiers.

« Some talk of Alexander, and some of Hercules,
Of Conon and Lysander, and some Miltiades,
But of all the world's brave heroes, there's none that can compare,
With a tow row, row, row, row, row, to the British Grenadiers.

Chorus-But of all, &c.
None of your ancient heroes e'er saw a cannon-ball,
Or knew the force of powder, to slay their foes withall;
But our brave boys do know it, and banish all their fears,
With a tow row, row, row, row, the British Grenadiers.

But our brave, &c.

Whene'er we are commanded to storm the palisades,
Our leaders march with fusees, and we with hand-grenades,
We throw them from the glacis about our enemies' ears,
With a tow row, row, row, row, the British Grenadiers.

We throw them, &c.

The God of War was pleased, and

great Bellona smiles,
To see these noble heroes of our British isles;
And all the Gods celestial, descending from their spheres,
Behold with admiration the British grenadiers.

And all the Gods celestial, &c.

Then let us crown a bumper, and drink success to those
Who carry caps and pouches, and wear the louped clothes ;
May they and their commanders live happy all their years,
With a tow row, row, row, row, to the British Grenadiers !

May they and their commanders,” &c. It is almost superfluous to say, that Nassau, or the innumerable « God those words are set to the most animated Save the Kings," “ Electors,” Empeand manly melodies. The vigour of the rors," &c.” Hooding out yearly from verse implies it. Though excellence of the German school, to our noble meall music is its appropriateness, no man lody? The old English composers have will suppose that words like these are fully established their claim to distincconveyed to the ears of the earth in Sici- tion; and when Doctor Kitchener, in lianas and affetuosos. But for boldness, the fulness of years and publication, loftiness, and a direct connexion of shall descend to the elysium of paintenergy of sound, with energy of sense, ers, poets, and musicians, we predict they certainly have no superiors in the that the shades of Blow and Green, whole chronology of music. All the Purcell and Leveridge, will be waiting continent has been labouring to pro- at the entrance, deputed to lead him to duce a God save the King, and all its the softest seat, and overwhelm his efforts have failed. What are the brows with the greenest laurel. Five Henri Quatre, the Wilhelmus von

“ At dubium est, habitare Deum sub pectore nostro ?
In cælumque redire animas, cæloque venire ?
Utque sit ex omni constructus corpore mundus,
Ætheris atque ignis summi, terræque, marisque,
Spiritum et in toto rapidum qui jussa,” &c.

The Exhibition at Somerset-House. In this age of absurd scepticism, it But the execution, partially beautiful, has become the fashion to doubt the is partially embarrassed and unnatuvalue of Exhibitions, as auxiliaries to ral. Phæbus sits in the centre, touchthe progress of the Arts. But we ing his lyre, but with the face of a fat should first doubt the value of com- milkmaid. The Sun is by his side, a petition, of publicity, of purchase, of clumsy reservoir of light; and the the comparison of styles, of public floating gatherers of the radiance seem criticism, and of the assurance of a perplexed between the double service fair trial of merits. An exhibition on of filling their urns, and sailing round the scale of that at Somerset-House their ring. The Sun lies beside Phecomprehends all those advantages; bus, like a beer-barrel. Light and and to its annual display may be at- the God of Light should not have tributed at once the increased popular been disjoined. feeling for the Fine Arts, and the in- No. 22.- The Dawn, by Fuseli. creased general excellence of the Bri- The subject is suggested by the lines tish School. Exhibitions do not cre- in Lycidas, ate genius; but they cherish it; they “ Under the opening eye-lids of the morn, give it the immediate power of attract. What time the gray fly winds her sultry ing the public eye; they render it su- horn. perior to cabal, and place in the first A youth is asle on the foreground. rank the man who deserves to stand The air is filled with rolling mists; in the first rank, without delay, and the grass is deep and dewy; a long without difficulty. The English School Pyrainidal flash of pale purple shoots has now thrown all those of the con- up from the verge of the horizon. tinent altogether out of competition. The youth is profoundly asleep, and The French is learned, accurate, la- the general expression of the picture borious, and meagre; the Italian, dry, is touching and true. loose, and feeble ; the German, a No. 34.John Knor remonstrating compound of the French and Italian ; with Queen Mary on her intended marthe English, in its vigour and simpli- riage with Darnley. city of conception, its adherence to This is one of the most spirited picnature, and its command of colouring, tures in the room. Knox, with the has had no superior since the days of Bible in his hand, and in an action of Titian.

great force, bends towards the Queen. In the present Exhibition, there His countenance is remonstrative and are about a thousand pictures. The imperious. At the opposite side of great majority are portraits. These the picture stands Erskine, leaning are, of course, almost beyond observa- over Mary in an attitude of conciliation. Of the others, I mention only tion. Mary sits at a table, with her those which catch the general eye. head supported by her hand. She is

No. 21.- The Solar System, by in tears, and the youthful freshness of Howard. This artist has distinguish- her countenance forms a striking coned himself by the study of the more trast to the withered and acrid phyfanciful parts of fable, ancient and siognomy of her persecutor. But modern. His Pleiades, a delicious Mary's face is the chief failure of the composition, first brought him into picture. It altogether wants the ronotice; and he seems never to have mantic and lofty beauty that tradition exceeded that early effort. His Solar has given to the Queen. The breadth System represents the planets by male of the cheek is rustic and heavy, and and female figures, floating in a circle the colour is neither the flush of inround Phæbus, and drawing light in dignation, nor the floridness of early urns from the Sun. The conception beauty.* The details of the furniture is from Milton,

and architecture are minute and ac“ Hither, as to their fountain, other stars curate ; but the subject is, on the Repairing, in their golden urns draw light.” whole, repulsive. Mary's sufferings

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Such is our correspondent's opinion, and much may be said on both sides. Our own opinion is, that Allan is right throughout that he has made her cheek-bones broad, because she was a Scottish Bcauty, and because coins (better authority than vague tradition) give Mary the characteristic outlines of her country's physiognomy—and that Allan has not painted the Queen as in the full glow of natural passion, simply because he had adopted Dr M‘Crie's belief, that, throughout the whole of this scene with Knox, she was acting a part. The picture of Archbishop Sharpe's death, however, is still the best that has been painted from the History of Scoiland. C. N.

are less forgatten than her errors, if Enchanter is offering the cup, the lashe had any errors beyond those of dy shrinks from him, and a whole inexperience, and the natural im- host of fauns and satyrs are gambolpulses of a confiding and loving heart. ling round them both. This picture is

The Scotch Novels have made the inferior to the Una of the saine artist, Covenanters distasteful to the multi- though the manner is remarkably and tude, and, sincere as they might have injudiciously similar. The lady is a been in their conventicles, the art- feeble and heavy figure, with a counteist should look to other times and nance totally the reverse of captivamen for the most popular exercise of tiug. Comus is colossal, and thrown his genius. The days of Scottish mag- into an attitude of awkwardness and disnificence and chivalry, her court ce

tortion. But the surrounding groups lebrations, her huntings through her are highly animated, their general copicturesque and mountainous districts, louring luxuriant, and the depths and the adventures of the Bruce, the Wal- green alleys of the forest painted with lace, and the Montrose, offer a suc- a rich and verdurous beauty. cession of subjects of the richest cha- No. 261.-L'Improvisatrice, by Picracter to an aspiring national artist. kersgill ;-A rising artist who seems to The world are weary of the bitter mix- possess a peculiarly fine conception of ture of politics and religion.

female loveliness, one of the rarest faNo. 78.- Portrait of the Duke of culties of painting. The poetess is York, by Phillips.-- The Duke is young and handsome, her dress is Itapainted in the full robes of knight- lian, her hand is resting on a guitar, hood, the likeness is striking, and the and her large eye and glowing countearrangement of the robes at once state- nance, fixed upon a brilliant

southern ly and graceful. Phillips is one of our sky, are full of inspiration. first colourists, and he has exhibited No. 272.-Shakespeare's Jubilee ; all his powers on this picture. with portraits of the performers of Co

No. 131.-Portrait of the Duke of vent-Garden, by Sharp.- This picYork, by Wilkie-This picture is of ture represents its groups forming a the Cabinet size. The Duke is look- procession to the temple of Shakeing over some papers. The light is speare. The arrangement is tasteful. thrown from a window behind the fi- But the merit of a work of this kind gure, and the Duke's costume, and the is to be looked for in the fidelity of the furniture of the apartment, are admi- likenesses ; and here lies the weakness rably treated. But the face has es- of the picture. The portraits are tracecaped Wilkie, and the resemblance is able in general with difficulty, and in lost in a mass of a heavy and feature- some instances they completely evade less shade.

No. 151.–Arthur Lord Capel de- No. 135.- The Parish Beadle, by fending Colchester, in 1648, by Coo- Wilkie.—The Beadle is arresting, an per. This artist has obtained repu- Italian boy with a monkey; the whole tation by painting battle-pieces of ca- family of adventurers are following valry. He has spirit and general fi- him in great indignation; the father, delity to nature and costume. But if a pale, nervous, strong-featured gipsy, he be emulous of the fame of Wou- is on the point of attacking the Beadle; vermans, he must follow him in the the mother is in the full tide of scoldselection of a noble and generous class ing. A youth behind leads their bear; of the horse. Cooper's horses are, al- two boys of the rabble hooting at the most without exception, the rudest Italians, complete the group. Wilkie models of their kind; the short hack- has done nothing since his Rent-day, ney, or the rough and crabbed moun- guperior to this picture. The story is tain horse, with more vice than blood, told with perfect clearness, the characand more hair than sinew. His hea- ters are fully sustained, and the covier chargers are mere dray-horses. In louring is probably the happiest effort this picture his knights are stately, of his pencil. though clumsily mounted, and the at- Canova's Danzatrice is the princitempt to express the stirring business pal sculpture, and is unworthy of his of the time is nearly a failure. His name; it curiously combines the vulbattle was the composure and gravity garity of a rustic, and the affectation of a pageant.

of an opera girl. No. 196.-Comus, with the Lady in the enchanted chair, by Hilton.The Haydon's misfortunes have been Vol. XIV.


the eye.

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