Not as on prim parade he cheats the world ;
But flying, snapped his lance, his standard furled ;
While breathing Skeletons, and bloodless dead,
To fell Pursuers point the Road he fled;
Stripped of his Trappings, Plumes, and glittering

Gear,
Dearth in his van, Destruction in his rear;

are raised to support Taxes, rather than Taxes to support Wars. Poverty has been usually considered a Peace-maker; if so, ne ought to be the most pacific Nation on Earth! The second cause is the overgrown and preposterous Salary annexed to the office of the Commander, during the continuance of the War; “Pendente Lite." The Evil of this system Government might have been taught, I presume, by the temporizing conduct of General Howe, in the American War. A Modern Fabius whose private reasons for delay were far more cogent, than his public ones.

“ Cunctando restituere rem.” See the Anecdote of the Emperor of China and his Physicians, page 42 The moral will apply to more cases than one. I have the highest respect for Lord Wellington's talents and courage, and I believe that the acclamations of a grateful People would be considered by him as bis highest reward; “ Præter laudem nullius avarus ;” and yet I was sorry to see it publicly stated, that he derives solely from his office of Generalissimo in Portugal an income of Thirty Thousand per annum. If this statement be incorrect, it should be refuted; it is very bad “hoc dici potuisse,” but if we are obliged to add, “et non potuisse refelli”- this is worse.

I would have every man, who undertakes so hazardous and resporsible a Task as the Command of an Army, amply re. warded. But it should be after he had completed his work.

Reft of his Pomp, and fallen his famished steed,
While Vengeance follows, with the Tiger's speed;
Forsook by Friends, and bunted down by Foes,
Through Afric's sands, or Russia's solid snows,
Where erst the Czar, to cool him, tempted forth
To fight the frost, the Madman * of the North !
Could I the wasted Land a Desart show,
In nothing fertile, but in sights of woe;
Point where, behind that veil by Glory spread,
Contagion tends the dying, midst the dead,
Teach Men the Conqueror's f blood-stained name

to hate, Ere dire experience makes them wise—too late ;

* At Pultowa, Charles the twelfth experienced a terrible defeat, and lost the fruit of many splendid Victories. Peter the Great was accustomed to say, “ My Brother of Sweden fancies himself an Alexander; but he shall not find me a Darius.

† “ They err who count it glorious to subdue

By Conquest far and wide, to overrun
Large Countries, and in Field great battles win,
Great Cities by assault; what do these Worthies ?
But rob and spoil, burn, slavghter, and inslave
Peaceable Nations, neighbouring, or remote,
Made captive, yet deserving freedom more
Than those their conquerors; who leave behind
Nothing but ruin, wheresoe'er they rove,
And all the flourishing Works of Peace destroy.
Then swell with Pride, and must be titled Gods !
Till Conqueror Death discovers them scarce men,
Rolling in brutish Vices, and deformed,
Violent or shameful Death, their due reward."

That Fame, doomed soon to perish, and to fade,
Un'wept, 'mid ruins which itself hath made;
Then-might I string the Minstrel's * Harp, to tell
The Clash of Arms, the rushing Battle's yell ;

* Mr. Scott's Flodden Field is justly considered the best description of a modern battle extant. l'repeat my convictions that Mr. Scott can write better than he has hitherto done. The danger is, that he will exhaust his muse, before he finds a subject worthy of her. Mr. Scott's popularity bids fair to overwhelm us with an host of imitators. Would modern Poetasters have the resolution to strip each thought as it arises, of every ornament of expression, dress of language, and har. mony of numbers; if they would muster up courage to ask themselves these formidable questions ; Is this idea just, convincing, or beautiful; is it pregnant with meaning, and is it new in its conception, if not in its application; in short, is it worth while to say it at all ? If the Genus irritabile would de termine to deal thus plainly with themselves, it is amazing how many good consequences would ensue. We should have very little Poetry, but that little would be good. “ Pauca, sed illa Rosas." Were this plan adopted, all those who sit down suddenly to write, for the worst of all reasons, because they have nothing to do, would as suddenly, for the best of all reasons, conclude, because they have nothing to say. The next good consequence would be this, that Criticism would cease, and that Critics would be changed into useful members of Society. For these Gentlemen who give so full an account of all other Persons, but who are neither able, nor willing to give any account of themselves, would then find it necessary to comply with the pressing invitatioos they would receive 10 take a salta water excursion in his Majesty's Navy. They might

Аа

That Work begun at morn, and closed at eve, Foul work, that years of Peace may not retrieve.

What time the stricken Tents, at peep Vanish, like snow, before the solar ray,

of day

there continue, as at present, to shift with the wind; nor would their occupation, nor their residence, undergo any very material change, as their hand would still be against every man, and their Head Quarters - The Fleet !

Again-as abortions usually give more pain than vigorous and healthy births, so it is extremely possible that some of our modern Rhimers take more paios to write ill, than a Gray or a Shakespeare took to write well. My plar would not only exempl them from these pains, but would snatch them from that purgatory and hell of Authors, Publication, and Criticism.

Publication indeed may be compared to Matrimony; those who think the most lightly of it before-hand, are usually those who have cause to think the most seriously of it afterwards. Those who publish in haste commonly repent at leisure. The very

Pen which now furnishes the precept, may in all probability hereafter supply the example. “In Utrumque paratus." I shall conclude this note with a short quotation from Gibbon, on the state of Genius and Literature, during the decline and fall of the Roman Empire; leaving the application of this passage to the good sense of

my

Readers. “ The beauties of the Poets and Orators, instead of kindling a fire like their own, inspired only cold and servile imitations : or if any ventured to deviate from those models, they deviated at the same time from good sense and propriety. The Provincials of Rome, trained by an uniform, artificial, foreign education, were engaged in a very unequal competition with those bold ancients, who by

And axe of Pioneer alarms the wood,
Whose Oaks descending instant span * the flood !
While Flocks and Herds in wild confusion run,
And headlong speed, the march of War to shun ;
Scared by the banners red, and clarions shrill,
And bugles, answered quick from hill to hill!
Both far and near they fy the gathering din,
Ere the confronting Legions close them in.

Yon heights reflecting far the Horsemen's f mail,
Yon steel-bright forest, winding through the vale,
Yon magic Arch, # the work of hands unseen,
Their Midnight task, that strides the deep Ravine,
That Roar from signal-gun! that sullen sound
Of ponderous iron wheels,g that shake the ground,
That dusty Whirlwind from the Charger's hoof,
These warn the Sons of Peace to stand aloof.
With horrid haste while distant Nations fly
But to behold each other, and to die!

expressing their genuine feelings in their native tongue, had already occupied every place of bonour. The Name of Poet was almost forgotten, that of Orator was usurped by the Sophists. A Cloud of Critics, of Compilers, of Commentators, darkened the face of learning, and the decline of Genius was soon followed by the corruption of Taste."

* To make the Military Bridges.
+ Cuirassiers, who are enveloped in armour.
# To facilitate the passage of Artillery.
& The Tumbrils,