1814.] OCCUPATION OF A DAY. 411 more violent the fatigue, the better my spirits for the rest of the day; and then, my evenings have that calm nothingness of languor, which I most delight in. To-day I have boxed an hour-written an ode to Napoleon Buonaparte copied it-eaten six biscuits-drunk four bottles of soda water 1-redde away the rest of my time— besides giving poor [? Webster] a world of advice about this mistress of his, who is plaguing him into a phthisic and intolerable tediousness. I am a pretty fellow truly to lecture about "the sect." No matter, my counsels are all thrown away. April 19, 1814. There is ice at both poles, north and south-all extremes are the same-misery belongs to the highest and the lowest only, to the emperor and the beggar, when unsixpenced and unthroned. There is, to be sure, 1. The following is one of Byron's bills for soda water :Lord Byron to R. Shipwash, 27 St. Albans St. a damned insipid medium-an equinoctial line-no one knows where, except upon maps and measurement. "And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death."' I I will keep no further journal of that same hesternal torch-light; and, to prevent me from returning, like a dog, to the vomit of memory, I tear out the remaining leaves of this volume, and write, in Ipecacuanha,—“ that "the Bourbons are restored!!!"-"Hang up philosophy." 2 To be sure, I have long despised myself and man, but I never spat in the face of my species before-"O fool! "I shall go mad." 3 I. Macbeth, act v. sc. 5, line 22. ARTICLES FROM THE MONTHLY REVIEW. 1. POEMS, BY W. R. SPENCER. Art. VII. (VOL. 67, 1812, PP. 54-60.) Poems by William Robert Spencer. 8vo. IOS. Boards. Cadell and Davies. 1811. THE author of this well-printed volume has more than once been introduced to our readers, and is known to rank among that class of poetical persons who have never been highly favoured by stern criticism. The "mob of gentlemen who "write with ease" has indeed of late years (like other mobs) become so importunate, as to threaten an alarming rivalry to the regular body of writers who are not fortunate enough to be either easy or genteel. Hence the jaundiced eye with which the real author regards the red Morocco binding of the presumptuous "Littérateur;" we say, the binding, for into the book itself he cannot condescend to look, at least not beyond the frontispiece.-Into Mr. Spencer's volume, however, he may dip farther, and will find sufficient to give him pleasure or pain, in proportion to his own candour. It consists chiefly of " Vers de Société," calculated to prove very delightful to a large circle of fashionable acquaintance, and pleasing to a limited number of vulgar purchasers. These last, indeed, may be rude enough to expect something more for their specie during the present scarcity of change, than lines to "Young Poets and Poetesses," "Epitaphs upon "Years," Poems "to my Grammatical Niece," "Epistle from "Sister Dolly in Cascadia to Sister Tanny in Snowdonia,” etc. but we doubt not that a long list of persons of quality, wit, and honour, "in town and country," who are here addressed, will be highly pleased with themselves and with the poet who has shewn them off in a very handsome volume : as will doubtless the "Butterfly at the end of Winter," provided that he is fortunate enough to survive the present inclemencies. We are, however, by no means convinced that the Bellman will relish Mr. S.'s usurpation of a "Christ"mas Carol;" which looks so very like his own, that we advise him immediately to put in his claim, and it will be universally allowed. With the exception of these and similar productions, the volume contains poems eminently beautiful; some which have been already published, and others that are well worthy of present publication. Of "Leonora," with which it opens, we made our report many years ago (in vol. xx. N.S. p. 451): but our readers, perhaps, will not be sorry to see another short extract. We presume that they are well acquainted with the story, and therefore select one of the central passages "See, where fresh blood-gouts mat the green, 'Come, spectres of the guilty dead, "Forward th' obedient phantoms push, Earth shakes his thund'ring hoofs beneath, "Swift roll the moon-light scenes away, The dead does Leonora fear? Oh God! oh leave, oh leave the dead !'" Such a specimen of "the Terrible" will place the merit 1.] SPENCER'S POEMS. 415 of the poem in a proper point of view: but we do not think that some of the alterations in this copy of Leonora are altogether so judicious as Mr. S.'s well-known taste had led us to expect. "Reviving Friendship" (p. 5) is perhaps less expressive than "Relenting," as it once stood; and the phrase, "ten thousand furlowed heroes" (ibid.), throws a new light on the heroic character. It is extremely proper that heroes should have "furlows," since school-boys have holidays, and lawyers have long vacations: but we very much question whether young gentlemen of the scholastic, legal, or heroic calling, would be flattered by any epithet derived from the relaxation of their respectable pursuits. We should feel some hesitation in telling an interesting youth, of any given battalion from Portugal, that he was a "furlowed hero," lest he should prove to us that his "furlow" had by no means impaired his "heroism." The old epithet, "war-worn," was more adapted to heroism and to poetry; and, if we mistake not, it has very recently been superseded by an epithet which precludes "otium cum dignitate" from the soldier, without imparting either ease or dignity to the verse. Why is "horse and horsemen pant for breath" changed to "heave for breath," unless for the alliteration of the too tempting aspirate? "Heaving" is appropriate enough to coals and to sighs, but "panting" belongs to successful lovers and spirited horses; and why should Mr. S.'s horse and horseman not have panted as heretofore? The next poem in arrangement as well as in merit is the "Year of Sorrow;" to which we offered a tribute of praise in our 45th vol. N.S. p. 288.—We are sorry to observe that the compliment paid to Mr. Wedgewood by a "late traveller " (see note, p. 50), viz. that “an Englishman in journeying "from Calais to Ispahan may have his dinner served every "day on Wedgewood's ware," is no longer a matter of fact. It has lately been the good or evil fortune of one of our travelling department to pass near to Calais, and to have journeyed through divers Paynim lands to no very remote distance from Ispahan; and neither in the palace of the Pacha nor in the caravanserai of the traveller, nor in the hut of the peasant, was he so favoured as to masticate his pilaff from that fashionable service. Such is, in this and |