336 
_ © Theodric is, in truth, no other than 
an involuntary. Macheath, and Constance 
and Julia are the dear charmers with either 
of whom he could be happy were the other 
away, yet the death of both of whom he is 
made to occasion.” 
Nor can we forbear to join in the 
sweeping censure, that in the execution 
“all is tame and languid; we are left 
to gather the characters of the leading 
personages from vague generalities ; 
and there is no sign of individuality 
by which any one of them may be dis- 
tinguished from numerous counterparts 
in every insipid novel?” ‘ 
But to the still more sweeping con- 
clusion, relative to the minor lyrical 
2 “A : : 
pieces, “ that such languid praise as 
could honestly be given to the very best 
lines in the volume, would be no com- 
pliment,” &c., we cannot give the same 
unqualified assent. There are three or 
four of these that are beautiful ; and of 
“ The Last Man” we should, perhaps, 
almost speak more favourably than even 
the Edinburgh Reviewer. The gene- 
rality, however, even of the lyrical 
pieces, are totally unworthy of the re- 
putation of Mr. Campbell :—of the au- 
thor of “ Lochiel,’ ‘‘ Hohenlinden,” 
“ The Exile of Erin,’ “The Mariners 
of England,” and, still more than all, of 
that.fine original ode, or epic song, which 
we were surprised not to find mentioned 
by either of the reviewers in their retro- 
spective commendations (but which the 
French critic, it will he seen has not 
forgotten)—“ Tie Battle of the Bal- 
tic.” This last is a composition so 
original, so spirited, so enthusiasti- 
cally poetical, and so finely modulated, 
with a boldness and richness of ca- 
dence, at once so complete, and, in 
some particulars, so perfectly without 
all precedent, that we have often won- 
dered how the ear that could have sug- 
gested it, should have betrayed, in any 
other species of verse, its want of per- 
ception for that happy combination of 
proportion and expressive variety which 
constitutes the basis of all metrical har- 
mony. 
We ought to notice, before we. quit 
the subject, that essentially as the two 
reviewers disagree in many particulars, 
the result, fairly considered, and strip- 
ped of all prejudices and glosses, is 
that, in the judgment of both, this vo- 
lume is by no means equal to the ex- 
pectations that had been raised by Mr. 
Campbell’s former productions. Such 
also is the opinion of the foreign 
critic already alluded to, as will be seen 
in the following translation. from the 
Philosophy of Contemporary Criticism—No. XLIV. 
[May 1; 
Revue Encyclopédique, part 74, vol. 25, 
p. 426. 
“* Mr. Campbell is, without doubt, one 
of the first English poets of ourage. When 
about twenty, he pnblished his ‘‘ Pleasures 
of Hope,’”—a work of superior merit, full 
of nerve, grace and feeling, which, by the 
rhythmus and the order of its verse, belongs 
to ancient poetry, and, by its philosophy, 
to modern. He afterwards produced 
“* Gertrude of Wyoming,” a composition, 
perhaps, rather feeble, and in which the 
action sometimes languishes, but the ele- 
gance and feeling of which will ensure at- 
tention. But the celebrity of Mr. Camp- 
bell rests upon his minor poems. ‘“ Elisi- 
dor,” ‘* Hohenlinden,” ‘“ The Mariners of 
England,” “ The Batile of the Baltic,” are 
all replete with beauties of the first order. 
“ O*Connor’s Child” is a charming production, 
which one would be tempted to attribute 
to a female pen. If it be true, as Lord 
Byron says, that Campbell is too laboured 
in his general style, we cannot find that, 
fault with the work in question, which ap- 
pears to be the production of a deep im- 
pression, clothed by an ardent and creative 
genius. But will the volume of poems 
which Mr. Campbell has lately published 
add to his fame? We think not. His first 
steps were thesteps of a giant ; he commen- 
ced by a chef-d’euvre, which raised great ex- 
pectations, but which he has not realized. 
The reputation of this poet rests entirely. 
upon his fugitive pieces. In these he 
shines superior. But his first work. (with 
which M. Albert de Montemond has en- 
riched French literature) led us to expect 
something more extensive and important; 
and the volume before our eyes does not 
yet contain the chef-d’wuvre for which we 
have been looking. The poems in this 
third volume of Mr. Campbell’s are, never- 
theless, not below his other productions. 
His “ Theodric”’ possesses elegance and 
interest; the verse is soft and melodious ; 
the stanzas upon the “ Rainbow”’ are di- 
vinely harmonious; his lines to ‘‘ Kemble” 
are full of eloquence and warmth; his 
elegy upon the “ Death of the Princess Char- 
latte’ inspires grief and mourning ; and his 
“* Hymn to Greece’ proves how much the 
love of liberty also animates the soul of 
Mr. Campbell. We might quote two or 
three passages, unworthy of the songster of 
“ Gertrude’;” but all the rest of the poems 
merit the highest praise.”* 
It cannot but be admitted that M. F. 
Degeorge, who (according to the good 
custom noticed by one of our corre- 
spondents in the present No. of the 
M.M.) signs his name to the article, has 
been sufficiently liberal in his praise 
upon this occasion; and that French 
criticism cannot, from this sample at 
least, be henceforth accused of looking 
upon our English literature with the 
eyes of enyious detraction. ’ 
Torics 
