6i Literary and Cr 



fjiiided by. This trntli slionUl be a liint 

 to the aspirants of the day ; and, amongst 

 them, to Mr. Lockart. His versification 

 is often loose, and his riiimes weak; 

 secondary parts of speech, for instance, 

 after Scott's flow. Nor is liis plotting and 

 telling (he most efFeclive; *ie reader 

 wants fewer, but Jnore orderly, points: 

 revisal, revisal is his word of command. 

 "We meant to end with a word on taste ; 

 l)nt that, in a romance of terrors, is a 

 pinch above criticism. The Pilgrim is 

 pastime for a winter's hour at niciht. 



The Life of Ferdinand the 7tli, King of 

 Spain, by Michael J. Quin. This is a 

 translation from Don Dash, a Spanish 

 advocate, and is the second publication for 

 'which this barrister's passing journey dur- 

 ing the last year, through Spain, has 

 supplied him with matter. In these pages, 

 as well as in his Visit to Spain, there is a 

 labour of popularity and liberalism which 

 to lis passes very awkwardly. We are 

 not without some donbt, that the Fellow 

 of the Royal Society of Literature is at 

 bottom as thorough a Tory as ever repro- 

 bated aught change In any church or 

 state ; one of those philosophical Chris- 

 tians who are content to take the pair, as 

 a man takes his wife, for better, for worse, 

 to have and tojceep. Yet fain would we 

 Ijope it is not true, that " he would and 

 lie would not,'' or rather that " he would 

 Mot if he durst ;" and is, in truth, not a 

 yonng author groping his path, and beg- 

 ging for friends, only like another laureate, 

 to turn tail as soon as he shall have gained 

 a partial name. However, if there be at 

 this day a man, who can still doubt tlie 

 reckless turpitude and vain cruelty, the 

 worse than crimes, those heartless sins, 

 done as if in idleness, of Ferdinand VH. 

 lie will find in Mr. Quin's book a particu- 

 lar and consequent detail of baseness and 

 tyranny, such as must transport a slave, 

 and make the abhorrence of every bosom. 

 There is much court-story throughout the 

 volume, and the general reader will not 

 find it without novelty. Ferdinand VII. 

 King of Spain, an undutiful son, an un- 

 feeling husband, an indifferent father, and 

 such a friend as is the rush to the pool over 

 which the winds shake it, is a compoimd of 

 that mean, fatal character, half foci and 

 half knave; such as, perhaps, never was 

 exhibited to the sorrowful eyes of a peo- 

 ple, and the shame of his peers. 'Tis en 

 ill wind ; may some mend by the exam- 

 ple ! We shall be glad to learn, for the 

 reputation of the new society, ail royal 

 and still virgin, that Mr. Quin has some 

 claims for his fellowship besides the com- 

 position of the books we mention ; in 

 sooth, they arc badly written, aught but 

 classical. 



JIortE Jocosa, by J. Lunn. This writer 

 lias two pretensions ; as the author of a 

 "successful farce, to be very broad iu his 



itical Pro'einitim. [Feb. 1 ) 



jokes, and as a soldier, to be as bold as 

 free in bis gallantry ; and certes, in 

 these pages, he has upheld both. Accus- 

 tomed, in his red career, only to make way 

 and enact glory, by rough dealing and an 

 unsheathed sword ; and often only relieved 

 over many a wasteful scene, by some 

 strange perversion of nature's strong bean- 

 ties laid bare in desolation; perhaps there 

 may be some extenuation for the extreme 

 rudeness in some of these incidents. Still 

 it is questionless that the rhymes might be 

 as entertaining, and more pardonable. 

 We would commend Mr. Lunn without 

 qualification, if we could, for we arc sure 

 he is a companion of mirth and gentlemanly 

 education ; but it were an offence to 

 many an eye that reads ns, to read him 

 throughout. 'Tis not the manner but the 

 matter of the song, we pause to praise ; 

 his themes chastened, we were happy to 

 recommend Mr. Lunn, for certainly he 

 can write humourous poetry well. He is 

 far more a bard than Walcott, and has less 

 indecency than Swift : we only want a 

 tittle less to yield him a palm neither of 

 them has attained. 



St. Ronan's IVell, by the antlior of 

 " Waverly." The Scotch publishers VdU 

 lerly hit upon a puffing pretension, which, 

 whatever may have been its plausibility 

 or success, is, we fancy, by the work 

 before us, likely to be thrown back into 

 disuse, "rhus was it: they forwarded an 

 early copy to some favoured and friendly 

 editor, vvlio culled out its pretty passages, 

 and thus beguiled the press into general 

 commendation upon special provocatives ; 

 while the eager readers in town were for- 

 mally apprised, by daily advertisement, that 

 the new 7iovd shipped from Leith was wea- 

 ther-bound, while each morning ensured 

 a variation of the needle. But the stormy 

 winds do blow, do blow, do blow! This 

 game was played to an extremity, on the 

 subject of the present novel; but, when 

 the cards were dealt out, not an honour 

 turned^iip ! Nay, the trump was the 

 vilest — the deuce; and St. Ronan's Well 

 is immediately dubbed the worst, the 

 last in every sense, of the author's prolixi- 

 ties. For ourselves we stand not com- 

 mitted, and are free to say, the novel is 

 assuredly not the worst of the batch, and 

 yet far from the best : 'tis the third during 

 the year. 



In our list of new publications, vol. 51, 

 page 368, we mentioned the appearance 

 of Elementary llluslrutions of the Celestial 

 Mechanics of Laplace: Part the first, com- 

 prchending the First Book;'' but this work 

 appearing without an author's name, we 

 omitted to examine its pages or speak of 

 it in our Proemium, not being then aware, 

 that the same proceeded from the masterly 

 hand of Thomas Young, M.n. F.u.s. &c. &c. 

 until we perceived, lately, that the Doctor 

 bus acknowledged it, iu the Nautical Al- 

 uianuc 



