tinguish the address to a disappoint- by the sons of the lord Darsy: its ed, or rather a forsaken lover, forsaken lover, chief merit is its curiosity. which has, we think, a turn of passion that is new, upon a very thread, bare subject. "I'm so farre from pittying thee, "Thy wearing willow doth imply, "I doc defie both boughe and roote, O willow, willow, doe thy worst, "I have spent all my golden time, "And now alas it is too late, The "Symptoms of Love," p. 246, is another very pretty song, and there are many scattered through the volume which have considerable elegance of expression, or a quaintness rendered venerable by antiquity, and which, like the grotesque carving on a gothick nich, has a pleasing effect, though irreconcilable with the strict rules of taste. These praises apply chiefly to the songs and minor pieces of lyrical poetry. The only ancient ballad, actually connected with history and manners, which Mr. Evans's labours have presented to us for the first time, is the Murder of the Wests, Among the poems which are de servedly inserted, we cannot help remarking that entitled "The Felon Sow and the Freeres of Richmond," as belonging to a class of compositions which has been but slightly discussed by our antiquaries; we mean the burlesque romance of the middle ages with which, doubtless, the minstrel and tale-teller relieved the uniformity of their heroick ditties. In these ludicrous poems, which are a kind of parody upon the metrical romances, churchmen and peasants are introduced imitating the knightly pastimes of chivalry; and their awkward mishaps and absurd blunders, must have been matter of excellent mirth to the doughty knights and gallant barons who listened to the tale. Thus, in the case before us, the felon sow was the undisturbed tenant of the woods of Rookby, and the romantick banks of the Greta. Her size and ferocity are described with great emphasis. The lord of Rookby, a man of humour, gave her to the friars of Richmond, provided they could catch her. Friar Middleton sets off with two wight men at musters, to pos sess himself of the prize. They compel the sow to take refuge in a lime-kiln, where they hamper her with cords from above. But the fe lon sow breaks forth upon them, routs the escort, reduces the friar to conjuration out of his breviary, and at length to betake himself to a tree, Friar Middleton and his companions return in evil plight to the convent; and the warden, to redeem the disgrace, hires two bold men at arms to follow forth the adventure of the sow: they enter into solemn indentures to "bide and fight" to the death, and the warden on his part becomes bound to say masses for their souls if they miscarry. The men at arms, more successful than friar Middleton, vanquish and kill the felon sow; and the convent sing "Te Deum" merrily, "that they had won the beast of price." "If you will any more of this, In the Friery at Richmond written it is, This tale, which possesses some portion of Cervantick humour, resembles the tournament of Tottenham [See Percy's Reliques, vol. ii.]in which the peasants of a village are introduced imitating all the solem nities of a tournament, and battering each other's heads with flails, as knights did with long swords and maces. Another remarkable example of this class of comick romances, is entitled the "Hunting of the Hare." A yeoman having found a hare sitting in the common field of a village, announces his discovery to the inhabitants. The peasants, resolving to course her, bring to the spot their great yard dogs and mastiffs, "with short shanks and never a tail." The confusion and disarray which follow the congregating of this ill-assorted pack is described with great humour: the ban-dogs, more addicted to war than sport, fall foul of each other; their masters are gradually involved in the quarrel, and poor puss steals away, leaving her enemies engaged in a grand scene of worrying and wrangling. This poem, has never, we believe, been printed. We could add largely to these examples, and show that low romance formed a distinct style of composition during the middle ages: but we have already exceeded our bounds, and must dismiss Mr. Evans's publication, which, always curious, has been greatly improved by his personal taste and labour. The next articles in our title, which are allied in subject to the Collection of Ballads, are two editions of the same work; Dr. Aikin's well known collection of songs, with the preliminary essay. Mr. Evans, it seems, from his preface, considered Dr. Aikin to have given up any intention of reprinting his collection. "The many years which have elapsed since the publication of the last edition, seemed to leave no hope that Dr. Aikin could be prevailed on to gratify the pub. lick by a revision and enlargement of his work. He had declined the task in the prime and vigour of life, and he might now think it unbecoming his years, to engage in a republication of these nugæ ca nore. Turpe senilis amor, the doctor might exclaim, and though he might be pleased those of Percy, Ellis, and some other sito see his volume ranged by the side of milar publications, yet he has abandoned the friendly office of revision to other hands." "As inquiries were still from time to time made after it among the booksellers, the editor was asked the question, whether he had any intention of reprinting it; accompanied with the intimation, that, as the copy-right was expired, should he decline the business, others would be ready to undertake it. Conscious that the Essays were the juvenile attempts of one whose taste was by no means matured, and whose critical knowledge was circum scribed within narrow limits, the editor be given to the publick with all its imperwas unwilling that his book should again fections on its head. He was obliged, therefore, to declare, that if it were reprinted at all, it should be with many material alterations, corresponding to his own change of taste and opinion in various points during so long an interval. stances, although he perhaps should not now "Under these almost compulsory circum 1 have chosen for the first time to appear as the collector of productions, the general strain of which is more suitable to an earlier period of life, yet he thought he might, without impropriety, avail himself of the opportunity of making a new and much more extensive selection of compositions which will not cease to be favour. ites with the lovers of elegant poetry, whatever be the vicissitudes of general taste." In the singular predicament of reviewing two rival editions of the same work, and without pretending to give a decision against Mr. Evans, although we think he has treated Dr. Aikin with somewhat less attention than his age, situation, and talents perhaps demanded, we can. not regret that we are possessed of both editions of the book, and trust that (as the old song runs) "the world's wide and there's room for us all." We are particularly glad to have an opportunity of comparing Dr. Aikin's original ideas upon the subject of song writing, with those which he has since adopted. His four essays upon songs in general, upon ballads and pastoral songs, upon passionate and descriptive songs, upon ingenious and witty songs, are now blended into one general essay; but we love the classical turn of these little discourses so well, that we are glad they are preserved in their original state. Such directions and rules of composition, whether in their separate and detailed, or in their new moulded shape, were never more necessary than at the present day. The marriage between Harmony and "Immor tal Verse," has, like fashionable wedlock, frequently made some very ill-matched pairs; and we suspect that Poetry must soon sue for a separate maintenance The ladies, who ought, in common charity, to feel for her situation, are those who aggravate her hardships; for it is rare to hear a fair songstress utter the words of the song which she quavers forth. But where taste and feeling for poetry happen to be united with a sweet and flexible voice, it is scarcely possible to mention a higher power of imparting and heightening social pleasure. We have heard Dr. Aikin's simple ballad: "It was a winter's evening, and fast came down the snow," set by Dr. Clarke, sung with such beautiful simplicity as to draw tears even from the eyes of reviewers. But the consideration of modern song opens to the critick a stronger ground of complaint, from the degeneracy of the compositions which have been popular under that name. Surely it is time to make some stand against the deluge of nonsense and indecency which has of late supplanted, in the higher circles, the songs of our best poets. We say nothing of the "Nancies of the hills and vales." Peace to all such! let the milliner and apprentice have their ballad, and have it such as they can understand. Let the seaman have his "tight main-decker," and the countess her tinseled canzonet. But when we hear words which convey to every man, and we fear to most of the women in society, a would venture to avow; when we sense beyond what effrontery itself hear such flowing from the lips, or addressed to the ears, of unsuspecting innocence, we can barely suppress our execration. This elegant collection presents, to those who admire musick, a means of escaping from the too general pollution, and of indulging a pleasure which we are taught to regard as equally advantageous to the heart, taste, and understanding. Both editions are considerably enlarged by various songs extracted from the best modern poets, and in either shape the work maintains its right to rank as one of the most classical collections of songs in any language. SPIRIT OF THE MAGAZINES. MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF PRINCE EUGENE, OF SAVOY, WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. [Continued from vol. 4. p. 336.] 1708-AS I was sure that Marlborough could make no arrangements but what were excellent, I went the day after the battle of Oudenarde to see my mother, at Brussels. What tears of affection did she shed on beholding me again with some addition of glory! I told her, however, that Marlborough's portion seemed greater than mine, as at Hochstett. The joy of revenge had some share in that, occasioned by our victory. She was glad to see the king humbled, who had left her, for another woman, in his youth, and exiled her in his old age. It is remarkable that in hers, she married the duke d'Ursel, without assuming his name. Nobody knew this; it could not have been a match of conscience or convenience, but probably of ennui and idleness. The fifteen days which I thus passed with her, were the most agreeable of my life. I parted from her with the more pain, as it was probable that we should not see each other again. On the last day of my visit the troops from the Moselle arrived. We were then as strong as the French. I sent eight battalions to reenforce Marlborough's corps, which covered Flanders. I left the rest to cover Brussels, and rejoined him at the camp of Elchin. He, Ouverkirke, and myself, agreed upon sending a strong detachment to lay waste Artois and Picardy, and thus compel Vendome to leave his camp. Vendome, who guessed our intention, remained immovable. I proposed the siege of Lisle; the deputies of the states-general thought fit to be of a different opinion. Marlborough was with me, and they were obliged to hold their tongues. The siege was committed to me, while Marlborough was to cover it against the army of the duke of Burgundy. The latter with 60,000 men, encamped near Pont des Pierres; and I with 40,000, after investing the city, took up my head quarters at the abbey of Loos, on the 13th of August. The brave and skilful Boufflers, with a garrison of sixteen battalions, and four regiments of dragoons, cut out plenty of work for me. The job, so far from being easy, was a dangerous one; for Mons was not in our possession. My first attack on fort Cateleau was repulsed; the works undertaken the same day to drain a large pond which was in my way, also failed. I ordered epaulements to be made, for the fire of the place annoyed us to such a degree, that a cannon-ball carried off the head of the valet of the prince of Orange, at the moment when he was putting on his master's shirt. It may easily be supposed that he was obliged to take another, and to remove his quarters. I opened the trenches, and on the 23d the besieged made a sortie, when lieutenant-general Betendorff, who commanded there, was taken prisoner. Boufflers treated him exceedingly well. The festival of St. Louis, which he celebrated with three general discharges of all his artillery, cost us some men. In the night between the 26th and 27th, the besieged made a terrible sortie; I gained the post of the mill of St. Andrew; Boumers retook it; and I there lost 600 men. Marlborough sent me word that Berwick having reenforced the duke of Burgundy, the army, now 120,000 strong, was marching to the relief of Lisle. The deputies of the statesgeneral, always interfering in every thing, and always dying of fear, asked me for a reenforcement for him. I went to his camp to offer him one. He said: "Let us go together, and reconnoitre the ground between the Deule and the Marck." After we had examined it, he said: "I have no occasion for one, I shall only move my camp nearer to your's." Vendome proposed not to lose a day, but instantly attack the army of observation, and the besieging force. "I cannot," said the duke of Burgundy; "I have sent a courier to my grandfather to inquire his pleasure." Conferences were held at Versailles, and the king sent his booby Chabillard to his grandson's camp. He went up with him into the steeple of the village of Sedin, to view our two armies, and he decided against giving us battle. I cannot conceive how Vendome could forbear running mad; another, with less zeal, would have sent every thing to the devil; and he, a better grandson of a king of France than the other, took the trouble, the day before, to go so close to Marlborough's position to reconnoitre, that he was grazed by a cannon-ball. I had returned to Marlborough's camp to be his volunteer, if he had been attacked. But (while I think of it) a Chamillard, that is, in one word, a VOL. V. young prince of no character, and an old king who had lost his, were quite sufficient to fill Vendome's heart with rage. He was obliged by them to retreat, as if he had been beaten. I continued the siege, sure of not being interrupted, and took the redoubt of the gate of Flanders, and some others; but after three hours fighting for one of the most essential, I was driven back, and pursued to my trenches. I scarcely stirred from them, having the king of Poland and all my young princes at my side; for it was necessary to set an example, and to give orders. I ordered two assaults to facilitate the taking of the covered way; always repulsed, but a horrible carnage. Five thousand English, sent me by Marlborough to repair my losses, performed wonders, but were thrown into disorder. We heard the cry of Vive le Roi et Boufflers! I said a few words in English to those brave fellows who rallied round me; I led them back into the fire; but a ball below the left eye knocked me down senseless. Every body thought me dead, and so did I too. They found a dung-cart, in which I was conveyed to my quarters. First my life, and then my sight, was despaired of. I recovered both. The ball had struck me obliquely. Here was another unsuccessful attack; out of 5,000 men, not 1,500 returned, and 1,200 workmen were there killed. Being prevented for some time, by my wound from interfering in any thing, I left the command of the siege to Marlborough, who delivered his to Ouverkerke. He effected a lodgment in a tenaillon on the left; but a mine baffled the assault and the assailants. Marlborough countermined some of them, and took all possible pains to spare me trouble on my return. He was obliged to eat in publick, in order to cheer my army, and returned to his own. The chevalier de Luxembourg deceived me by introducing ammu |