162 
Literary and Critical Proemium. 
offered to the public, the romance of The 
Cavalier is entitled to a place in the first 
rank. It is a production of the Waverly 
school, and is evidently the offspring of 
no mean disciple. In character, incident, 
and style, it bears no distant affinity to the 
legends of the unknown author; but it may 
be easily distinguished from them by an 
occasional awkwardness and want of polish, 
from which the original is completely free. 
The scene is laid in the time of the great 
rebellion ; and the character of the hero, 
Colonel Sydenham, afterwards Lord Fal- 
conridge, is touched witb a very spirited 
hand. The principal portrait of the adverse 
faction, is taken from Jonathan Snell, a 
puritan adventurer, and it is certainly 
drawn with great power, though in some¬ 
what exaggerated proportions. We 
augur very considerable success to these 
interesting volumes, which cannot be 
perused without impressing the reader 
with a conviction that they are the fruit of 
an ingenious and superior mind. 
We cannot speak, without feelings of a 
mingled nature, of Mr. C. Webb’s little 
volume, entitled Summer, and other 
Poems . We can praise, with great sin¬ 
cerity, the poetical fancy and the love of 
nature which pervade all his compositions ; 
and there is a tenderness and delicacy of 
thought in some of his smaller poems, which 
render them very pleasing. On the other 
hand, we have to complain of a want of 
correctness and good taste; and of an af¬ 
fected quaintness of style and phraseology, 
which, although it may for a while excite 
attention, cannot fail to be tiresome and 
repulsive in the end. For this reason, his 
shorter poems are those which we like best. 
On the whole, while we allow that Mr. W.’s 
performances are not of such a nature as 
to excite any high hopes of his future emi¬ 
nence, we are very sure that he by no means 
deserves the contemptuous treatment which 
he has received from some northern critics, 
who are apt to estimate literary labour, by 
any thing but its intrinsic merit. 
If any thing were wanting to convince 
the advocates of war of the horrors which 
attend such a system, we would recommend 
to their perusal The Personal Narrative of 
a Private Soldier 9 who served in the Forty- 
second Highlanders for Twelve Years dur¬ 
ing the late War . This little work has pro¬ 
bably made its appearance in consequence 
of the success which attended another pro¬ 
duction of the same kind, and which it 
seems to us to equal in interest and origi¬ 
nality. The writer is represented to be a 
Scotchman, who entered into the army 
when young, and who encountered all the 
disastrous horrors of the Walcheren expe¬ 
dition, and the accumulated dangers and 
privations of the Peninsular war. The 
miseries which the army suffered at this 
period seem almost incredible, and we feel 
[Sept, I, 
indignant that the amazing energies which 
our countrymen then displayed, should be 
employed in slaughter and destruction. The 
narrative contains many free reflections on 
the conduct of those in command, and 
many curious anecdotes illustrative of a 
soldier’s life. The style is Simple, and 
sometimes singular; and, on the whole, 
the narrative appears to us to bear the 
stamp of truth. 
We feel a pleasure in directing the atten¬ 
tion ofthe lovers of poetry to the second part 
of Poems for Youthj by a family circle. 
The reception given by the public to the first 
part of this work was very flattering, and its 
readerswill not,wethink,find any diminution 
of interest in the continuation now offered 
to their notice. A considerable portion of 
this delightful volume is occupied with a 
pastoral masque, entitled Amaryllis ; and 
the remainder consists of smaller pieces, 
from which we select, as an agreeable 
specimen, the following stanzas ; 
I’ll be a' fairy, and drink the dew, 
And creep thro" tlie honied flowers. 
And sleep in the violet’s tender blue ; 
And dance in the evening hours. 
My music shall be the soft low gales 
Which sigh thro’ the dark green trees, 
And heaven’s breath swell the gossamer sails- 
With which I swim the breeze. 
The glow-worm shall be my gentle light, 
And a lily’s cup my bed ; 
And I’ll warm me in the sweet moon-light. 
And on fallen roses tread. 
And ever fresh the grass shall grow 
Around my mystic ring, 
And little murmurs, sweet and low. 
Shall answer when I s-ing. 
And I will hold a fairy court, 
And call each slumbering lay. 
And wild and gaily will we sport. 
As the twilight fades away. 
Til be a fairy, and drink the dew, 
And creep thro’ the honied flowers, 
And sleep in the violet’s tender blue. 
And dance in the evening hours. 
We believe it is generally understood 
that this little volume is the joint produc¬ 
tion of several members of Mr. Roscoe’a 
family. 
If a congregation of horrible ideas and 
phrases can lay claim to the title of poetry, 
there could not be two opinions about The 
Last Days of Herculaneum , by Edwin 
Atherstone. The author seems to have 
racked his imagination for the most revolt¬ 
ing and disgusting pictures ; and to have 
exhausted the language in seeking for ap¬ 
propriate phraseology. 
--■“ Oh ! give me words— 
Spirits of horrors—from the tongues of hell; 
Such as the damned, to paint their agonies 
And terrors, can alone invent.” 
The whole work answers well to this in¬ 
vocation. Every successive page is loaded 
with increasing horror, storm and rain; 
-Ten thousand bolts 
Fall every instant.” 
With the general overthrow, the writer 
mixes 
