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(O Providence! how wondrous are thy ways!

LXXXIX.
Who would suppose thy gifts sometimes obdurate?) | This was no bad mistake, as it occurr'd,
Gave him, to lay the devil who looks o'er Lincoln,

The supplicator being an amateur;
A fat fen vicarage, and nought to think on.

But others, who were left with scarce a third, LXXXIII.

Were angry-as they well might, to be sure.

They wonder'd how a young man so absurd His jokes were sermons, and his sermons jokes;

Lord Henry at his table should endure; But both were thrown away amongst the fens;

And this, and his not knowing how much oats For wit hath no great friend in aguish folks.

Had fallen last market, cost his host three votes. No longer ready ears and short-hand pens Imbibed the gay bon mot, or bappy hoax:

XC. The poor priest was reduced to common sense, They little knew, or might have sympathised, Or to coarse efforts, very loud and long,

That he the night before had seen a ghost, To hammer a hoarse laugh from the thick throng. A prologue which but slightly barmonised

With the substantial company engross'd
LXXXIV.

By matter, and so much materialised,
There is a difference, says the song, "between

That one scarce knew at what to marvel most A beggar and a queen,”(1) or was (of late

or two things—how (the question rather odd is) The latter worse used of the two we've seen

Such bodies could have souls, or souls such bodies. But we'll say nothing of affairs of state),

XCI.
A difference “ 'twixt a bishop and a dean,"
A difference between crockery-ware and plate,

Bat what confused him more than smile or stare As between English beef and Spartan broth

From all the 'squires and 'squiresses around, And yet great heroes have been bred by both. Who wonder'd at the abstraction of his air,

Especially as he had been renown'd
LXXXV.

For some vivacity among the fair,
But of all nature's discrepancies, none

Even in the country circle's narrow boundUpon the whole is greater than the difference (For little things upon my lord's estate Beheld between the country and the town,

Were good small talk for others still less great)Of which the latter merits every preference

XCII.
From those who have few resources of their own,
And only think, or act, or feel; with reference

Was, that he caught Aurora's eye on his,
To some small plan of interest or ambition-

And something like a smile upon her cheek. Both which are limited to no condition.

Now this he really rather took amiss:

In those who rarely smile, their smile bespeaks LXXXVI.

A strong external motive; and in this But “en avant!” The light loves languish o'er

Smile of Aurora's there was nought to pique Long banquets and too many guests, although

Or hope, or love, with any of the wiles A slight repast makes people love much more,

Which some pretend to trace in ladies' smiles. Bacchus and Ceres being, as we know

XCIII.
Even from our grammar upwards, friends of yore
With vivifying Venus,(2) who doth owe

'T was a mere quiet smile of contemplation, To these the invention of champagne and truffles:

Indicative of some surprise and pity; Temperance delights her, but long fasting ruffles.

And Juan grew carnation with vexation,

Which was not very wise, and still less witty, LXXXVII.

Since he had gain'd at least her observation, Dully pass'd o'er the dinner of the day;

A most important outwork of the cityAnd Juan took his place, he knew not where,

As Juan should have known, had not his senses Confused, in the confusion, and distrait,

By last night's ghost been driven from their defensa And sitting as if naild upon his chair:

XCIV. Though knives and forks clang’d round as in a fray,

But, what was bad, she did not blush in turn, He seem'd unconscious of all passing there,

Nor seem embarrass'd-quite the contrary; Till some one, with a groan, express'd a wish

Her aspect was as usual, still-nol stern(Unheeded twice) to have a fin of fish.

And she withdrew, but cast not down, ber ese, LXXXVIII.

Yet grew a little pale—with what? concern?

I know not; but her colour ne'er was bigla On which, at the third asking of the bans,

Though sometimes faintly flush'd-and always ckar, He started; and perceiving smiles around

As deep seas in a sunny atmosphere.
Broadening to grins, he colour'd more than once,
And hastily-as nothing can confound

xᏟV.
A wise man more than laughter from a dunce But Adeline was occupied by fame
Inflicted on the dish a deadly wound,

This day; and watching, witching, condescending And with such hurry, that ere he could curb it, To the consumers of fish, fowl, and game, He had paid his neighbour's prayer with half a turbot. And dignity with courtesy so blending,

(2) “ Sine Cerere et Baccho friget Venus."

(1) “ There's a difference between a beggar and a queen; |

And I 'll tell you the reason why;
A queen does not swagger, nor get drunk like a beggar,

Nor be half so merry as I," etc.-L. E.

Adag.-L

CIV.

As all must blend whose part it is to aim

Retired: with most unfashionable bows (Especially as the sixth year is ending)

Their docile esquires also did the same, At their lord's, son's, or similar connection's, Delighted with their dinner and their host, Safe conduct through the rocks of re-elections. But with the Lady Adeline the most. XCVI.

CII. Though this was most expedient on the whole, Some praised her beauty: others her great grace; And usual—Juan, when he cast a glance

The warmth of her politeness, whose sincerity On Adeline while playing her grand role,

Was obvious in each feature of her face, Which she went through as though it were a dance, Whose traits were radiant with the rays of verity. Betraying.only now and then her soul

Yes; she was truly worthy her high place! | By a look scarce perceptibly askance

No one could envy her deserved prosperity. |(Of weariness or scorn), began to feel

And then her dress—what beautiful simplicity
Some doubt how much of Adeline was real;

Draperied her form with curious felicity !(2)
XCVII,

CIII.
So well she acted all and every part

Meanwhile sweet Adeline deserved their praises, By turns-with that vivacious versatility,

By au impartial indemnification
Which many people take for want of heart:

For all her past exertion and soft phrases,
They err—'t is merely what is call’d mobility, (1) 1 In a most edifying conversation,
A thing of temperament and not of art,

Which turn'd upon their late guests' miens and faces,
Though seeming so, from its supposed facility; And families, even to the last relation;
And false-- though true; for surely they ’re sincerest | Their hideous wives, their horrid selves and dresses,
Who are strongly acted on by what is nearest. And truculent distortion of their tresses.

XCVIII. | This makes your actors, artists, and romancers, True, she said little—'t was the rest that broke

Heroes sometimes, though seldom-sages never; Forth into universal epigram; But speakers, bards, diplomatists, and dancers, But then 't was to the purpose what she spoke: | Little that's great, but much of what is clever; Like Addison's “ faint praise,” (3) so wont to damn, Most orators, but very few financiers,

Her own but served to set off every joke, Though all Exchequer chancellors endeavour,

As music chimes in with a melo-drame.
Of late years, to dispense with Cocker's rigours, How sweet the task to shield an absent friend!
And grow quite figurative with their figures.

I ask but this of mine, to- not defend.
XCIX.

CV.
The poets of arithmetic are they

There were but two exceptions to this keen | Who, though they prove not two and two to be Skirmish of wits o'er the departed; one Five, as they might do in a modest way,

Aurora, with her pure and placid mien; 1. Have plainly made it out that four are three,

And Juan, too, in general behind nove Judging by what they take, and what they pak In gay remark on what he had heard or seen, The Sinking Fund's unfathomable sea,

Sate silent now, his usual spirits gone: That most unliquidating liquid, leaves

In vain he heard the others rail or rally,
The debt unsunk, yet sinks all it receives.

He would not join them in a single sally.
C.

CVI.
While Adeline dispensed her airs and graces, 'T is true he saw Aurora look as though

The fair Fitz-Fulke seem'd very much at ease; I She approved his silence; she perhaps mistook
Though too well bred to quiz men to their faces, Its motive for that charity we owe
_Her laughing blue eyes with a glance could seize 1 But seldom pay the absent, nor would look
The ridicules of people in all places-

Farther. It might or it might not be so:
That honey of your fashionable bees-

But Juan, sitting silent in his nook,
And store it up for mischievous enjoyment;

Observing little in his reverie,
And this at present was her kind employment. Yet saw this much, which he was glad to see.
CI.

CVII.
However, the day closed, as days must close; The ghost at least had done him this much good,
The evening also waned--and coffee came.

In making him as silent as a ghost, Each carriage was announced, and ladies rose,

If in the circumstances which ensued And curtsying off, as curtsies country dame,

He gain'd esteem where it was worth the most.

(1) In French « mobilité." I am not sure that mobility is English ; but it is expressive of a quality which rather belongs to other climates, though it is sometimes seen to a great extent in our own. It may be defined as an excessive susceptibility of immediate impressions at the same time without losing the past; and is, though sometimes apparently useful to the possessor, a most painful and unhappy attribute.--" That Lord Byron was fully aware not only of the abundance of this quality in his own nature, but of the danger in which it placed consistency and singleness of character, did not require this note to assure us. The

consciousness, indeed, of his own natural tendency to yield
thus to every chance impression, and change with every
passing impulse, was not only for ever present in his mind,
but had the effect of keeping him in that general line of
consistency, on certain great subjects, which he continued
to preserve throughout life.” Moore.-L.E.
(2) « Curiosa felicitas.”—- Petronius Arbiter.

4 Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer;
And, without sneering, teach the rest to sneer."

Pope on Addison.-L. E.

CXV.

cx.

And certainly Aurora had renew'd

CXIV. In him some feelings he had lately lost

A noise like to wet fingers drawn on glass, (2) Or harden'd; feelings which, perhaps ideal,

Which sets the teeth on edge; and a slight clatter Are so divine, that I must deem them real:

Like showers which on the midnight gusts will pas, CVIII.

Sounding like very supernatural water,

Came over Juan's ear, which throbb’d, alas! The love of higher things and better days;

For immaterialism's a serious matter; The unbounded hope, and heavenly ignorance

So that even those whose faith is the most great Of what is call’d the world, and the world's ways;

In souls immortal, shun thein tête-à-tête.
The moments when we gather from a glance
More joy than from all future pride or praise,

Which kindle manhood, but can ne'er entrance Were his eyes open ?-Yes, and his mouth too. The heart in an existence of its own,

Surprise has this effect— to make one dumb,' of which another's bosom is the zone.

Yet leave the gate which eloquence slips through

As wide as if a long speech were to come. CIX.

Nigh and more nigh the awful echoes drew, Who would not sigh A đi cày Kut-ostay

Tremendous to a mortal tympanum: That hath a memory, or that had a heart? His eyes were open, and (as was before Alas! her star must wane like that of Dian:

Stated) his mouth. What open'd next?-the doer. Ray fades on ray, as years on years depart.

CXVI.
Anacreon only had the soul to tie an
Unwithering myrtle round the unblunted dart

| It open'd with a most infernal creak, Of Eros: but though thou hast play'd us many tricks, Like that of hell. “Lasciate ogni speranza Still we respect thee, “Alma Venus Genetrix !" (1) | Voi che entrate!" The hinge seem'd to speak,

Dreadful as Dante's rhima, or this stanza;

Or—but all words upon such themes are weak: And full of sentiments, sublime as billows

A single shade's sufficient to entrance a
Heaving between this world and worlds beyond, Hero—for what is substance to a spirit?
Don Juan, when the midnight hour of pillows Or how is't matter trembles to come near it?
Arrived, retired to his; but to despond

CXVII.
Rather than rest. Instead of poppies, willows
Waved o'er his couch; he meditated, fond

The door flew wide, not swiftly,-but, as fly Of those sweet bitter thoughts which banish sleep,

The sea-gulls, with a steady sober lightAnd make the worldling sneer, the youngling weep.

And then swung back; nor close-but stood awy

Half letting in long shadows on the light, СХІ.

Which still in Juan's candlesticks burn'd high, The night was as before: he was undrest,

For he had two, both tolerably bright, Saving his night-gown, which is an undress';

And in the door-way, darkening darkness, stood

The sable friar in his solemn hood,
Completely “sans culotte," and without vest;
In short, he hardly could be clothed with less :

CXVIII.
But apprehensive of his spectral guest,

Don Juan shook, as erst he had been shaken He sate with feelings awkward to express

The night before; but, being sick of shaking, (By those who have not had such visitations),

He first inclined to think he had been 'mistake, Expectant of the ghost's fresh operations.

And then to be ashamed of such mistaking; СХП.

His own internal ghost began to awaken

With him, and to quell his corporal quakingAnd now in vain he listen'd ;-Hush! what's that?

Hinting that soul and body, on the whole,
I see—I see—Ah, no!—'t is not-yet't is—

Were odds against a disembodied soul.
Ye powers! it is the-the-the-Pooh! the cat!
The devil may take that stealthy pace of his!

CXIX.
So like a spiritual pit-a-pat,

And then his dread grew wrath, and his wrath berca, Or tiptoe of an amatory miss,

And he arose, advanced- the shade retreated; Gliding the first time to a rendezvous,

But Juan, eager now the truth to pierce, And dreading the chaste echoes of her shoe.

Follow'd, his veins no longer cold, bat heated,

Resolved to thrust the mystery carte and tierce, CXIII.

At whatsoever risk of being defeated : Again—what is 't? The wind? No, no,--this time The ghost stopp'd, menaced, then retired, until It is the sable friar as before,

He reach'd the ancient wall, then stood stone-stil. With awful footsteps regular as rhyme, Or (as rhymes may be in these days) much more.

СХХ. Again through shadows of the night sublime,

Juan put forth one arm-Eternal powers! When deep sleep fell on men, and the world wore It touch'd no soul, nor body, but the wall, The starry darkness round her like a girdle

| On which the moonbeams fell in silvery showers, Spangled with gems—the monk made his blood curdle. | Chequer'd with all the tracery of the hall;

(1)

"genetrix, bominum divômque voluptas, Alma Venus !” Lucret. lib. i.-L. E.

(2) See the account of the gbost of the uncle of Pro Charles of Saxony, raised by Schroepfer: Karlwas Wollst du mit mir 7"--LE.

He shudder'd, as no doubt the bravest cowers shall we gather only the testimonies of such eminent

When he can't tell what 't is that doth appal. wits as would of course descend to posterity, and How odd, a single hobgoblin's non-entity

consequently be read without our collection; but we Should cause more fear than a whole host's identity.(1) shall likewise, with incredible labour, seek out for

divers others, which, but for this our diligence, could CXXI.

never, at the distance of a few months, appear to the But still the shade remain'd: the blue eyes glared, eye of the most curious." We propose therefore, lo And rather variably for stony death:

gratify our readers, by selecting, in reference to Don Yet one thing rather good the grave had spared,

Juan, a few of the chief
The ghost had a remarkably sweet breath.
A straggling curl show'd he had been fair-hair'd;

TESTIMONIES OF AUTHORS,
A red lip, with two rows of pearls beneath, beginning with the most courtly, and decorous, and
Gleam'd forth, as through the casement's ivy shroud high-spirited of newspapers,
The moon peep'd, just escaped from a grey cloud.

1. THE MORNING POST. CXXII.

"The greatest anxiety having been excited with respect to

the appearance of this Poem, we shall lay a few stanzas And Juan, puzzled, but still curious, thrust

before our readers, merely observing that, whatever its His other arm forth-Wonder upon wonder! character, report has been completely erroneous respecting It press'd upon a hard but glowing bust,

it. If it is not (and truth compels us to admit it is not) the

most moral production in the world, but more in the Beppo Which beat as if there was a warm heart under.

style, yet is there nothing of the sort which Scandal with He found, as people on most trials must,

her hundred tongues whispered abroad, and Malignity joyThat he had made at first a silly blunder,

fully believed and repeated, contained in it. 'Tis simply a And that in his confusion he had caught

tale and righte merrie conceit, flighty, wild, extravagant

immoral too, it must be confessed; but no arrows are level Only the wall, instead of what he sought.

led at innocent bosoms, no sacred family peace invaded; and

they must have, indeed, a strange self-consciousness, wbo CXXIII.

can discover their own portrait in any part of it. Thus The ghost, if ghost it were, seem'd a sweet soul much, though we cannot advocate the book, truth and jusAs ever lark'd beneath a holy hood:

tice ordain us to declare." (July, 1819.) A dimpled chin, a neck of ivory, stole

Even more complimentary, on this occasion, was
Forth into something much like flesh and blood; the sober matter-of-fact Thwailesism of the
Back fell the sable frock and dreary cowl,

II. MORNING HERALD.
And they reveal'd-alas! that e'er they should !
In full, voluptuous, but not o'ergrown bulk,

u It is hardly safe or discreet to speak of Don Juan, that

truant offspring of Lord Byron's muse. It may be said, The phantom of her frolic Grace-Fitz-Fulke!(2) however, that, with all its sins, the copiousness and flexibi

lity of the English language were never before so trium

phantly approved that the same compass of talent-'the APPENDIX.

grave, the gay, the great, the small,' comic force, humour, metaphysics, and observation-boundless fancy and ethereal beauty, and curious knowledge, curiously applied, have

never been blended with the same felicity in any other We bave been much puzzled how to put the reader, poem." who does not recollect the incidents of 1819, in pos

Next comes a barsher voice, from-probably Lees ession of any thing like an adequate view of the na- | Giffard. Es

Giffard, Esq., LL.D.--at all events, from that staunch ure and extent of the animadversion called forth by

and undeviating organ of high Toryism, the St. James's e first publication of Don Juan.

Chronicle, still flourishing, but now better known to Cantos I. and II. appeared in London, in July,

London readers by its daily title of The Standarda 819, without the name either of author or bookseller, I a thin quarto; and the periodical press immedi

III. ST. JAMES'S CHRONICLE. tely teemed with the “judicia doctorumnecnon u of indirect testimony, that the poem comes from the per liorum." It has occurred to us, that on this occa

of Lord Byron, there is enough to enforce conviction. The

same full command of our language, the same thorough on we might do worse than adopt the example set

knowledge of all that is evil in our nature, the condensed 1 in the preface to the first complete edition of the energy of sentiment, and the striking boldness of imagery'unciad. We there read as follows:-"Before we all the characteristics by which Childe Harold, the Giaour, esent thee with our exercitations on this most de

and the Corsair, are distinguished-shine with kindred

splendour in Don Juan. Would we had not to add another ctable poem (drawn from the many volumes of our

point of resemblance, in the utter absence of moral feeling, Iversaria on modern authors), we shall here, ac

and the hostility to religion, which betray themselves in rding to the laudable usage of editors, collect the almost every passage of the new poem! But Don Juan is, rious judgments of the learned concerning our

alas! the most licentious poem which has for many years

issued from the English press. There is, it is true, nothing et : various, indeed---not only of different authors,

so revolting in its plot as the stories of Manfred and Pari. t of the same author at different seasons. Nor sina ; neither is the bero so repulsively immoral as Childe

(0)
- Shadows to-night

for Don Juan'," said he, on one occasion, “this Greek busiHave struck more terror to the soul of Richard,

ness, its disasters and mismanagement, have farnished me Than could the substance of ten thousand soldiers,” etc. with matter for a hundred Cantos. I do not intend to write

Rich. III. till next winter, then I may possibly finish another Canto. 2) There can be little doubt that additions to this poem | There will be both comedy and tragedy ; my good countryald have appeared in rapid succession, but for the un men supply the former, and Greece the latter." On another lely fate of the noble and highly-gifted author. A short occasion he playfully remarked, “ that he would continue le previous to his last illness in Greece, Byron, in con. Don Juan to one hundred and fifty Cantos, if the public sation with friends, occasionally alluded to his inten would have patience; adding that “twenty-two cantos of continuing the story of Don Juan. "Talk of subjects were ready for the press."-P. E.

llarold, or the Giaour; but, with equal laxity of sentiment, writers who have had their day and sank into oblivion; bat there is much more of voluptuous description, unattended, in highly-wrought interest, and overwhelming passion, he is in the present case, by the retributive suffering and renal himself alone. Here is the basis of his fame, and we could remorse which cast the veil of their dark shadows over the wish that the structure stood uncontaminated with that le gross sensuality of Lord Byron's other heroes."

vity and pruriency wbich the less scrupulous may laugh at

to-day, but which has no claim to the applause of judicioas The fourth on our list is The New Times, con

or moral contemporaries, or of impartial posterity." ducted in those days by a worthy and learned man, Sir John Stoddart, LL.D., now Chief Justice of

As the Editor of the Journal above quoted thought

fit to insert, soon after, certain extracts from a work Malta. IV. NEW TIMES.

then-(and probably still)-in MS., entitled Lord

Byron's Plagiarisms, he (the Editor) will not think u The popularity of the opera of Il Don Giovanni, in all

it indecorous in us here to append a specimen of the probability, suggested this poem, The hero is the same, and there is no obvious improvement in his morality. He has

said work—which is known to have proceeded from the same spirit of intrigue, and the same unrestricted suc no less a pen than that of cess. The work is clever and pungent, sometimes reminding us of the earlier and more inspired day of the writer,

VII. ALARIC A. WATTS, ESQ. but chiefly charaeterised by his latter style of scattered ver "A great deal has been said, at various times, about the sification and accidental poetry. It begins with a few easy originality of Lord Byron's conception, as it respects the prefatory stanzas relative to the choice of a hero ; and then characters of the heroes and heroines of his poetry. We details the learned and circumspect education of Don Juan, are, however, disposed to believe, that his dramatis print under his lady mother's eye. Lord Byron knows the addi. are mostly the property of other exhibitors, although he may tional vigour to be found in drawing from the life ; and his sometimes furnish them with new dresses and decorations, portraiture of the literary matron, who is, like Michael Cas --with 'sable bair,' "unearthly scowls,' 'a vital scorn' af sio, a great arithmetician, some touches on the folly of fe. all beside themselves,--and such additional improvemet! male studies, and a lament over the henpecked husbands as he may consider necessary, in order to enable them to who are linked to ladies intellectual,' are obviously the make their appearance with satisfaction to himself, an results of domestic recollections."

profit, or at least amusement, to the public, Sooth to say,

there are few people better adapted to play the part of a Lord Burleigh himself never shook his head more Corsair than his lordship; for he is positively unequalia! sagely than

by any marauder we ever met with or heard of, in the ex

tent and variety of his literary piracies, and unacknowledged V. THE STATESMAN.

obligations to various great men-ay, and women toon " This is a very large book, affecting many mysteries, but ing as well as deceased." possessing very few; assuming much originality, though it bath it not. The author is wrong to pursue so eccentric a

The next Weekly Journalist whom we hold it proflight. It is too artificial ; it is too much like the enterprise per to quote is The Champion-in other words. of Icarus ; and his declination, or, at any rate, that of his Thomas Hill, Esq., the generous original patroo of book, will be as rapid, if not as disastrous, as the fabled Kirke White and Robert Bloomfield, so eloquently tumble of that ill-starred yonth."

lauded by Southey in his Life of the former of these We pass to The Literary Gazette, edited then, as poets—then proprietor of now, by William Jerdan, Esq. of Grove House,

VIII. THE CHAMPION. Brompton; who is sure of being remembered here

«Don Juan is undoubtedly from the pen of Lord Byres: aster for his gallant seizure of Bellingham, the assassin

and the mystery in the publication seems to be nothing but of Perceval, in the lobby of the House of Commons, a bookseller's trick to excite curiosity and enhance the sale: 1) on the 11th of May, 1812 ; and the establishment of for although the book is infinitely more immoral than tk the first Weekly Journal of Criticism and Belles

publications against which the prosecutions of the Society

for the Suppression of Vice are directed, we find nothing Lettres in England.

it that could be likely to be regarded as actionable. A1E VI. LITERARY GAZETTE.

bar of moral criticism, indeed, it may and must be arrain

ed; and against the process and decrees of that court, « There is neither author's nor publisher's name to this subterfuges appealed to will be no protection. Other writers. book; and the large quarto title-page looks quite pure, with in their attacks upon whatever mankind may or sucht only seventeen words scattered over its surface: perhaps we reverence, make their advances in partial detail; Lord Byron cannot say that there is equal purity throughout; but there proceeds by general assault. Some, while they war agande is not much of an opposite kind, to offend even fastidious religion, pay homage to morality, and others, while the criticism, or sour morality. That Lord Byron is the author subvert all morals, cant about religion: Lord Byros there is internal proof. The public mind, so agitated by plays at once all the force and energy of his facalties, the strange announcement of this stranger, in the newspaper the powers of poetry, and the missiles of wit and ridica advertisements, may repose in quiet; since we can assure against whatever is respectable in either. There is our readers that the avatar so dreaded neither refers to the course, a good deal of miscellaneous matter dispersed return of Bonaparte, nor to the coming of any other great through the two cantos, and though in those parts white national calamity, but simply to the publication of an ex. affect to be critical, the wantonness of wit is sometis ceedingly clever and entertaining poem. Even when we more apparent than the sedateness of impartial judgment : blame the too great laxity of the poet, we cannot but feel a and though the politics occasionally savour more of calle high admiration of his talent. Far superior to the libertine stic misanthropy, than of that ardent patriotic cathesiacom he paints, fancifulness and gaiety gild his worst errors, and which constitutes the charın of that subject-upon both no brute force is employed to overthrow innocence. Never topics, on the whole, we find mucb more to comment was English festooned into more luxuriant stanzas than in to censure." Don Juan. Like the dolphin sporting in its native waves, at every turn, however grotesque, displaying a new bue and

| Among the Monthly critics, the first place is de a new beauty, the noble author has shown an absolate con to the venerable Sylvanus Urban. trol over his means; and at every cadence, rhyme, or construction, however whimsical, delighted us with novel and

IX. GENTLEMAN'S MAGAZINE. magical associations. The style and nature of this poem Don Juan is obviously intended as a satire upon some appear to us to be a singular mixture of burlesque and pa. | the conspicuous characters of the day. The best frien thos, of humorous observation and the higher elements of the poet must, with ourselves, lament to observe abil poetical composition. Almost every stanza yields a proof so high an order rendered subservient to the spirit of of this; as they are so constructed, that the first six lines delity and libertinism. The noble bard, by employin and the last two usually alternate with tenderness or whim. genius on a worthy subject, might delight and inst In ribaldry and drollery, the author is surpassed by many mankind; but the present work, though written with

ommend than

a new beadans; and at everschied us with noves

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