suffered discouragements in the early part of their career, from which they have only recovered when fancy, and many of the finer sensibilities of the heart, have been lost to literature. We have got little in return for the mischief which criticism has thus wrought. In the case of writers like Mr. Montgomery some degree of harshness may even do good. They are not to be convinced of their want of judgment, of their errors against a classical taste, without hard blows. Their own spirits are bold and obstinate, and they must be grappled with by critics who have a kindred character; by reviewers who will crush and tread upon poet's hearts without the slightest concern, as long as poets may be supposed to indulge conceit and vanity, to the sacrifice of pristine truth and beauty. Mr. Montgomery would, probably, have hugged to the last the most dearly cherished of his literary errors, had not the darling been torn from his soul by the rough hands of unmerciful critics. His selfconfidence and hardihood were too great to let him suffer much from this treatment. On the contrary, he has to thank his most ungenerous reviewers for benefits conferred upon him, and which are sufficiently evident in the comparatively pure and better style of some of his later productious. But we never meet with a case in which some bold persevering mind has been improved by untempered, wrathful criticism, without deploring the fate of men like Keats. We say like Keats. The actual amount of harm done to that fine and tender writer himself, may be matter of doubt. But he was one of a class; and we question not that a vast amount of noble poetry is thus sacrificed to the delight which some men have in hunting genius back into the solitude of its own spirit. Talent, even of the highest kind, is not the determined, energetic thing which it is often supposed to be. It is not at all so certain as some people imagine, that a man of sublime thought will be as resolute to develope his ideas in the sight and for the use of the world, as he will unquestionably be persevering and earnest in maturing them in his own heart. Whether the mass of mankind be ever the better for men of genius, depends greatly upon the manner in which they are received at the outset of their career. If the critics could have carried their point, we should have had neither Coleridge, Southey, nor Wordsworth. They were too mighty for the antagonist; but how many more writers might we not have had, little, if at all, inferior to them, had the masters of criticism taken a more generous, a more comprehensive view of their profession! These remarks are naturally suggested by some allusions in Mr. Montgomery's well-written and very interesting preface. But we must now turn to the contents of the volume itself. The several poems of which it consists were written, says the author, "to portray, in a poetical form, somewhat of the creed and character, the duties and dangers, the hopes and fears, the faults, privileges and final destinies of a believer in the religion of Christ." This is an object befitting Mr. Montgomery's ability and character: but it is one attended by many difficulties; and even a partial fulfilment of the design deserves no ordinary measure of praise. There is something so wonderful and mysterious in the working of a spirit apprehending, and apprehended by, Divine love; something so tender, so human and yet so unearthly, in the profound experience of the | Christian heart, that of all the efforts of poetic genius, none can be nobler than those which tend to exhibit these things in the light of pure and fervent thought. Few writers would deserve the praise which we are ready at once to accord Mr. Montgomery. He has the grand ideal of the Christian life and mystery impressed upon his mind. The visions of heavenly forms, the sympathy of the soul with a world unseen, enters as an element into his poetic feeling. He strives with untiring patience to express what has thus been made manifest to him; and there are pieces and separate passages in this volume which forcibly convey the lofty meaning of the poet to the understanding of the reader. But while we give this praise, we should be dishonest in our criticism if we did not add, that a considerable portion of the volume is made up of verses which are either trite and common-place, or exhibit some of the worst faults of Mr. Montgomery's early style. What, for example, can a reader of any taste think of the following puerile and unintelligible lines? "The budding glories of a green-hair'd spring Dawn with bright verdure; and wild birds ope their wing, And sun-born gladness through the soft air glows, While the young breeze with laughing gush o'erflows." P. 313. In another stanza of the same poem the gurgling streams are described as making "liquid stanzas as they run In mellow whispers warbled to the sun." Now we cannot, for the world, understand how a whisper should be mellow, or how it should warble, and still less how a stream should gurgle and warble at the same time. Again having spoken of SHARPE'S LONDON MAGAZINE. lid is meant but how could the sun look away when it had thus dropt its lid? If an author will deal in metaphor and imagery, every reader has a right to expect that they shall be in some degree intelligible. But what will any one say to the consistency of Mr. Montgomery's poetic reasoning, when, in the stanza just quoted, he describes the earth, in her dread anguish, seeming to say that her sun could not endure the sight of our Lord's crucifixion, whereas in the preceding stanza but one he exclaims which " fann'd their zealous fire," and which they "could not meekly bear? We may guess at the sense, but it is of "fire from heaven," and not of a burning pair, or of vengeance on fire, or of anything else on fire, that the simple Scripture narrative makes mention. Such are the offences against good taste, the obscurities, and even absurdities, which disfigure several of the pieces in this volume. We should not have noticed them, had they been the mere accidents of hasty composition; but they are the faults of a "Alas! vile earth an atheist proved." Now, this is true neither in poetry nor theology. The style which Mr. Montgomery has fondly adopted, to the injury of his genius and his reputation. We earth never proved an atheist, or a rebel; and Mr. Montgomery, in writing on subjects of this kind, ought indulge the hope that he will take our criticism in the to know, that to confuse the earth, or nature, with spirit in which it is written. Our object is to warn the moral world of man, is to pass over a most im-him against continuing to indulge in the use of portant distinction-" The creature was made subject to vanity not willingly." In the following we have a different specimen of the manner in which an author employs his metaphorical language Suspicion is the ice of prayer, That chills to death enwrapt desires; The fervour of adoring fires, That once of old made martyrs burn For doctrines love alone can learn."-P. 377. It is no Now let the thought which this stanza is intended to "Oh! never ape that burning Pair Whose vengeance seem'd on fire, We presume there is some mistake here, either in the unintelligible metaphor; in high-sounding words with- would have done better for both himself and his "should never be remembered by any one. It tells almost contemporaneous with the Great Fire, is neither how several persons were then tried for their lives, precise nor extended, and by no means bears out the and were found guilty of a design of killing the king, terrible picture drawn in Wilson's "City of the and destroying the government; and, as a means to Plague;"-indeed, our author often treats the event it, to burn the city; and that the day intended for with a degree of levity which is both unusual with him the plot was the 3d of the September then next, and and inexplicable, unless we remember that a sudden rethe fire did indeed break out on the 2d of that Sep-vulsion of feeling-the removal of imminent danger— tember." Many, after this, will be induced to ask, whether Pope be correct in declaring, that— "London's column, pointing to the skies, Like a tall bully, lifts its head-and lies." However, according to Pepys, the investigations made at the time afford no reason for doubting that the fire was accidental. The smoke arising from it was seen during six months afterwards. This calamity does not appear to have affected the human race only, for "the poor pigeons were loath to leave their houses, but hovered at the windows and balconies, till they burned their wings, and did fall down." The Lord Mayor, the civic king, seems to have been made the universal scape-goat: "all blamed him for the fire." Every hour, deputations waited on him to inquire what he had done, what he was going to do, and why he had not adopted the suggestions then first made to him, until the poor man was so completely bothered, that, Pepys says, he looked like "a fainting woman when he met him, and, more majorum in the corporation, declared, "he must go and refresh himself before he could do anything." The prevalent taste for music in those days may be estimated by our diarist's recital, that every lighter bearing away goods had, at least, a pair of Virginals amongst the cargo. Pepys found it expedient to follow the general plan, by removing his property to a place of safety, though his house was ultimately unscathed; and he draws an amusing picture of his Exodus, on a cart, to Bednall Green," clad in his "night shirt." When the fire was subdued, the town appears to have been inundated by a flood of sermons, odes, essays, and addresses, founded on the event; and pre-eminent amongst the littérateurs was Dean Harding, who gave vent to a sermon in which he elegantly and felicitously said, that "the city was reduced from a large folio to a decimo-tertio." The rents of the houses burnt were calculated at about 600,000%.; and some idea of the increase it made in the value of property may be formed from the statement of "Mr. Pierce's having let his wife's closet, and the little blind bedroom, and a garret, to a silk manufacturer, for 50%. fine, and 30l. per annum, and 40%. more for dieting the master and two 'prentices." Dean Harding's effusion reminds us that it was a clergyman of the same name who preached a sermon against vaccination, whilst in its infancy, endeavouring to show that it was the antichrist mentioned in the Bible, and, moreover, very likely to infuse into mankind some of the nature and qualities of cows. The destruction of books was so great that there was a chance of Polyglottes and new Bibles being worth 40%. each." Pepys's description of the Great Plague, which was will often produce a paroxysm of unnatural laughter and hilarity, as in hysteria. His memoranda are extremely scanty, but he mentions a fact which we have seen corroborated; viz. that mercury, in one form or another, was used as the chief remedy for the attack. When that which had evidently been a plague pit was opened, in Poland-street, not many years ago, innumerable globules of quicksilver were to be seen amongst the relics of mortality. The only thing very noticeable in the Diary, respecting this terrible affliction, is an edict of the Lord Mayor, for people to keep within doors after nine at night, in order that the sick might be at liberty to go abroad for air and exercise. This militates against the notion that they were confined to their houses, under a guard, and not suffered to come out, on pain of death. His account of domestic life in that age is perhaps the most curious and interesting part of the volume. He visits the new Exchange, "and there drank whey, with much entreaty getting it for our money, and they would not be entreated to let us have one glass more." This would almost induce the reader to think that there was something in the "whey" which rendered the partakers of it too hilarious. His instructions in the "Art of Love" rival those of Ovid. A son of Sir G. Carteret was contracted to be married to the daughter of the Earl of Sandwich, and thus says our diarist : "Here I taught him what to do-to take the lady always by the hand, to lead her; and telling him I would find an opportunity to leave them together, he should make these and these complements, and also take a time to do the same to Lady Crewe and Lady Wright." But the excellent mentor's instructions seem not to have been attended to, for a little further on, he adds, "To church. Thence back again, by coach; Mr. Carteret not having had the confidence to take his lady even by the hand, coming or going; which I told him of when we came home, and he will hereafter do it." After infinite manœuvring he― "succeeded in leaving the young couple to themselves; and a little pretty daughter of my Lady Wright, most innocent, came out afterwards and shut the door to, as if she had done it, poor child, by inspiration; which made us, without, have good sport to laugh at." All ended happily, and Pepys records the events with more minuteness and care than he bestows on the Fire and the Plague. The lady had a fortune of 5,000l., then considered a large sum; and a jointure of 8007. per annum was looked upon as most liberal. The following is a curious instance of the convivial habits of the seventeenth century; but, within our own memory, somewhat similar absurdities have been prevalent at Oxford and Cambridge. During a supper | In what the "point" of so peculiar an incident could party, Lord Norwich, after giving a toast, had one of have existed, he does not give us the means of judghis teeth drawn, and it was considered a point of ing; but his was the culminating period of forced honour for every one present to follow his example. similes and affected expressions. Witness this renAt another jovial meeting, he,dering of a verse of the Psalms :— "Why dost withdraw thy hand aback, "and Pinchbecke, and Dr. Goffe (now a religious man) were present. P. did begin a frolic, to drink out of a glass with a toad in it. Lord Norwich did it without harm, but Goffe, who knew that sack would kill a toad, () called for sack, and when he saw it dead, says he, I will have a quick toad, and will not drink from a dead toad.' By that means (no other being to be found) he escaped the health." About 10 P.M. they rose from table and sang a song, and so home, in two coaches. Mr. Batelier and his sister Mary, and my wife and I in one, and Mercer (his wife's maid) alone in the other, and after being examined in Allgate (Aldgate) whether we were husbands and wives, home." The anxiety of the civic functionaries to ensure the morality of those entering their territories, is most amusing, and probably surprising to those of our readers who had preconceived notions respecting the times recorded. Poor Pepys's estimate of Shakspeare will meet with equal ridicule and surprise. He makes this note: "To Deptford, by water, reading Othello, Moore of Venice, which I ever heretofore esteemed a mighty good play, but having so lately read The Adventure of Five Hours, it seems a mean thing." So the "ineffectual fires" of Othello paled before the surpassing radiance of The Adventure of Five Hours. This reminds us, that in Dryden's day, Elkanah Settle was esteemed his superior-that Bentley has published an emendation (!) of Milton, and that the rivalry of John Wilkins filled Pope with rage and envy. Bentley "amends" that magnificent passage in Milton "And e'en our tortures may, in length of time, thus: “And, as is well observed, our tortures may Become our elements." Shade of the immortal Johann Von Houkmicrouki! this transcends even thy "Essay on Cheesecakes." Macbeth is "a most excellent play for variety," says Pepys; which recals to our recollection the critical acumen of the old gentleman who tortured Charles Lamb by pronouncing his favourite and most carefully manufactured soup "pleasant." The epitaphs people inflict on departed friends add another evil to the many miseries of dying, and the ill-expressed and worse-conceived praise which authors experience, might almost deter a sensitive man from writing. However, it is some comfort to find that Shakspeare was not totally unappreciated in the age succeeding The Diary exhibits the Duke of York as twice quoting our immortal bard in Pepys's hearing; although that worthy being evidently accepted the axioms as original. Neither does he increase our opinion of his literary abilities by the following mem:— "He (Mr. F.) read, though with too much gusto, some little poems of his that were not transcendant, yet one or two very pretty epigrams; among others, of a lady looking in at a grate, and being pecked at by an eagle his own. that was there." And hide it in thy lap? Oh stretch it forth, and be not slack Most people will accept as a proof of good sense that which our diarist looks at in quite a contrary light:"Good sport with one Mr. Nicholls, a prating fellow, that would be thought a poet, but could not be got to repeat any of his verses." We adduce the following as specimens of the credulity of the age: "Discoursed with Captain Enwin about the East Indys, where he hath often been, and, among other things, he tells me how the King of Syam seldom goes out without 30,000 or 40,000 people with him, and not a word spoke nor a hum or cough in the whole company to be heard. He told me (what I remember he hath once done before) that every body is to lie flat down, at the coming by of the king, and nobody to look upon upon pain of death." him And a little further on: musicall sounds made by strings, mighty prettily: he told me that, having come to the number of vibrations proper to make any tune, he is able to tell how many strokes a fly makes with her wings (those flies that hum in their flying) by the note which it answers to in musick during their flying." "Mr. Hooke made me understand the nature of Charles II. puzzled the Royal Society by inquiring, why, when a live carp was put into a vessel full of water, the water did not overflow. Several ingenious treatises were written to account for such a phenomenon! And, finally : "Mr. Batelier told me how, being with some others at Bordeaux, making a bargain with another man, at a tavern, for some clarets, they did hire a fellow to thunder (which he had the art of doing on a deal board) and to rain and hail (that is, to make the noise of), so as did give them a pretence of undervaluing the merchant's which was so reasonable! to the merchant, that he did wine, by saying, this thunder would spoil and turn them, abate two pistoles per tun for the wine in behalf of that." Here is a hint for wine-merchants! The editors of Beckmann's History of Inventions, give us a proof that the existing race has not degenerated in ingenuity: George IV. had a very rare wine, which, for a length of time, he omitted to call for; consequently, his domestics were induced to make rather too free with it, and when he suddenly ordered it to be served up at a dinner party the following day, they were horrified at finding only two bottles left. What was to be done? They applied to a famous chemist, and he, on receiving a sample of the liquor, furnished them with an imitation of it, which was drunk and enjoyed, without suspicion, at the royal table. A review of the whole volume leads to many valuable conclusions. It corroborates the axiom, that "human nature is the same all the world over, and at all times." They who feel inclined to pass a harsh judgment on Pepys's age, will find ample induce ments for a change in their opinion; but they who | contend for the "good old days" will be inclined to suppress the passages we are about to quote: "I found one of the vessels laden with Bridewell birds in a great mutiny, and they would not sail-not they; but with good words, and cajoling the ringleaders into the tower, wherein, when they were come, they were clapped up in the hole, they were got very quietly, but I think it is much if they do not run the vessel aground." These Bridewell birds were chiefly poor men who had been impressed under circumstances which would now be most unequivocally condemned. "A fisher boy told us he had not been in a bed the whole seven years since he came to prentice, and hath two or three years more to serve." And our author, having had a difference with some watermen about the amount of a fare, says-"Therefore I swore to send them to sea, and will do so." The naval service then was by no means a model. The ignorance of ships' captains is thus recorded:-" Some of our flagmen in the fleet did not know which tack lost the wind, or kept it, in the late engagement." The system of impressment was infamous in the extreme, as we could easily prove, had we space to do so. But fancy such an apparition as this of a captain in the Royal Navy! "Met Mr. Daniell, from the fleet, all muffled up, and his face as black as the chimney, and covered with dirt, pitch, and tar, and powder, and muffled up with dirty clouts, and his right eye stopped with oakum." The picture which Pepys exhibits of his own domestic life is well worthy of notice. "I find my wife troubled at my checking her last night, in the coach, with long stories out of Grand Cyrus, which she would tell, though nothing to the purpose, nor in any good manner." This inopportune display of recondite learning reminds us of having been once questioned by a young lady, at a ball, respecting our opinion of the Ptolemaic theory. The following gives us some notion as to who was master in Pepys's house :: "Great dispute with wife, and resolved all on having my will done, without disputing, be the reason what it will; and so I will have it. [And] My wife having dressed herself in a silly dress, of a blue petticoat uppermost, and a white satin waistcoat and white hood (though I think she do it because her gown is gone to the taylor's), did, together with my being hungry, which always makes me peevish, make me angry." It appears, also, that the worthy lady learnt to play on the flageolet! Minerva discarded the pipe, on observing how her features were distorted whilst playing on it. Could Mrs. Pepys have been destitute of a looking glass? Finally, we will annex a few of the diarist's opinions respecting his contemporaries. "At dinner we talked much of Cromwell. All say he was a brave fellow, and did owe his crowne he got to himself as much as any man that ever got one." The House of Commons is a beast not be understood, it being impossible to know before-hand the issue of any small, plain thing, there being so many to think and speak to any business, and they of so uncertain minds, and interests, and passions." The Duke of Buckingham said to the Lord Chancellor Whoever was against 66 the Bill was led to it by an Irish understanding,' which is as much to say he is a fool." A pretty compliment for our Hibernian brethren! And thus he alludes to General Monk-" The Duke of Albemarle is a blockhead." We have not room enough for further extracts, though there are many of the greatest interest, which we should like to introduce. The work is well worth the perusal of every one who wishes to form a correct notion of the important and interesting period during which Pepys lived. We have merely to thank the editor for placing it before the public: his notes are of little value, and he has left much unnoticed which he ought to have thrown light upon. An industrious and erudite man would have turned out such materials in a very different style. As it is, we are only indebted to Lord Braybrooke for introducing us to a pleasant and instructive friend. The punctuation of the volume is excessively bad, and it abounds with clerical errors, the effect of inefficiency for the task undertaken. In these days, when the aristocracy engage so prominently in literature, they must not complain if we regard them merely as "authors," and measure out to them the quantum of praise and blame which is accorded to unknown and untitled writers. Indeed, as the former have everything in their favour-leisure for composition and opportunity for revision-as their lucubrations are not disturbed by the voice of an importunate and no longer confiding landlady, or the necessity of rocking a child's cradle with one hand, whilst they wield the pen with the other as they have not to make their memory serve instead of a library, nor to tremble at the summons for " copy"-they have no right to expect more than strict justice, they have no pretext for claiming indulgence. We doubt whether the existing influx of lordly writers into the paths of literature has been any benefit to the reading community. It has caused a great laxity in criticism, the result of which has been a slovenly style of composition, an absence of correctness in details, and a want of originality and research, which place the Addisonian age in many respects above the present. The volume before us is an instance of the truth of these observations. THE TOWN.' IF the question had been raised in the literary world, of who was the fittest man in Britain to write a book about London, with the above title, there can be little doubt that Leigh Hunt would have been elected by universal suffrage. The circumstances of birth, education, residence, and society, made London dear to Leigh Hunt in early life; and subsequent travels, tastes, studies, and habits, have confirmed the predilection. This huge wilderness of brick-this mighty maze of streets, is to him a fair garden, stocked with immortal amaranths and unfading roses, (1) "The Town. Its Memorable Characters and Events." By LEIGH HUNT. 2 vols. post 8vo. Smith & Elder. |