None in the world like thee! oh everywhere I miss thee, where of yore I sought and found ; Fairest, at all times, never half so fair As now, when for thy form I gaze around None in the world like thee! for me the spring But its sweet music palls upon my ear; None in the world like thee! I look around In vain to find thy likeness; thou wert given To sanctify my soul, and from the ground Exalt my low thoughts, telling them of heaven; For paltry were the heart, which, loving thee, Could faithless, sinful, or degraded be. I cannot sleep when beats the heavy rain, And the winds murmur through the midnight deep, The past crowds on my thoughts-I cannot sleep; And then thy voice-I list it in my dreams— A tuneless discord, which mine ear disowns; A rich, sad melody, by memory brought. Yes! I will walk in firmness-I will shake The world's pollutions from my thoughts, and be For thou wilt come to me at midnight deep, In holiest dreams, my troubled heart to still; And thou wilt chase my fears, and cheer my gloom, By pointing forth to happier days to come! To meet again!-without this hope, for me Death would be more than welcome; for life seems The flowerless desert, and the shoreless sea, Of which the melancholy madman dreams, When not a ray of hope beams, shooting fair Through the grey mists of his forlorn despair. To meet again!-till then a sad adieu !— With thee all joy and comfort disappears, And life grows dark and clouded on my view:Farewell! While wandering through this vale of tears, This one dear hope my spirit shall sustain, That we may meet again-may meet again! A TO THE RHINE. MAJESTIC stream! whose hundred fountains 'Tis not thy track, o'erhung with towers Far other ties, majestic river, I hear her lute's bland echo come River of rivers! unto me Thy lucid breast shall ever be A shrine with thousand gifts o'erflowing- A wild flower in her native glen, Far from the busy strife of men. Her pictured memory dwells with thee, VOL. XXIII. A MODERN PYTHAGOREAN.. 4 Y THE MARQUIS OF LONDONDERRY'S NARRATIVE OF THE WAR IN SPAIN AND PORTUGAL.* IN whatever light we may regard it, whether we look to the spirit-stirring events to which its progress gave birth, to the vicissitudes of good and evil fortune which attended it, to the brilliant talent and devoted heroism which it called into view, to the splendour of its consummation, or to the magnitude of the consequences which have arisen out of it, we need not hesitate in pronouncing the Peninsular war to be at once the most glorious and the most instructive contest in which this country has ever been engaged. It is to the Peninsular war, and to it alone, that Great Britain is indebted for the elevated situation which she now fills among the nations of Europe; and many generations must be forgotten, before the very memory of that war shall cease to operate in her favour. It was in the fields of the Peninsula that British soldiers first established for their day a reputation which they had enjoyed no opportunity of acquiring since the days of Blenheim and Malplaquet. It was for their gallant bearing at Vimeira, Oporto, Talavera, Salamanca, and Vittoria, that the nations of the continent first learned to regard them as made of the same stuff, and animated by the same spirit, with the heroes of Trafalgar and the Nile; and were no other benefits than these to be traced back to that memorable struggle, we should still consider the advantages as having been cheaply earned. But when, in addition to these, the proud consciousness comes on our minds, that we first taught Europe how the universal conqueror was to be beaten; that our laurels were earned in the ho liest and best cause which men ever fought to maintain; and that, but for our direct interference, Europe might have been at this moment in bondage -our recollections of six years of anxiety and suspense are mixed up with a sense of gratitude to a kind Providence, which, having given to us the power, moral as well as physical, to do as we have done, presented us with a fair field in which to exercise that power. It is a glorious reflection, that our triumphs have been obtained, not by the casting down, but by the raising up of oppressed nations; and that the brightest page in the military history of Great Britain, records a series of victories, every one of which was sanctified by the blessings and heartfelt congratulations of men, who looked to us alone for deliverance from a thraldom more intolerable than death. But it is not alone because of the addition to our national glory obtained, (and whatever adds to the true glory of a nation adds to its strength,) that we are disposed to look upon the Peninsular war as different in its character from all the other wars in which this country has in modern times ta ken part. Up to the commencement of that contest, England appeared to have forgotten that she had ever been, and still retained the capability of being, a great military nation. With a navy everywhere triumphant, and secure in her insular situation, she looked, not indeed with indifference, but certainly without duly exerting herself, upon the progress of French domination from one end of Europe to another. If she stirred at all, it was not with men, but with money; and her resources were frittered away, in the vain attempt to get that effected by means of hirelings and foreigners, which her own sons, at one-half the cost, and in one-half the time, would have done much more effectually. We are sanguine enough to believe, that the issues of the Peninsular war have been such as to convince our rulers, in all time coming, of the impo licy, as well as the utter insufficiency, of the subsidising system. Whenever this country shall again be called upon to gird on the sword, may she do so, not as an ally, but as a principal; and if her strength be but directed by men capable of guiding it aright, no war in which she may engage will be of long continuance. It was simply because we persisted in acting wholly on the defensive during fifteen years, that after fifteen years of hostilities *A Narrative of the War in Spain and Portugal, by Lieut-Gen. the Marquis of Londonderry. London. Quarto. Colburn. 1828. the prospect of peace was as remote from us as ever; whereas we no sooner took the field in earnest, as our fathers were accustomed to do before us, than the happiest results followed. May we never forget the great political les son which this important fact is calculated to teach. Such being our ideas on the subject of the Peninsular war, it was with no common interest that we opened the Marquis of Londonderry's volume, in which he records events of which he was an eye-witness, and details operations in which he was himself a prominent actor. He served in Sir John Moore's army, as a general of brigade, in which capacity he commanded a regiment of German, and a regiment of English hussars; and with Lord Wellington he filled the important and confidential situation of adjutant-general. Now, it is hardly necessary to add, that an officer discharging the latter office, must necessarily have had access to information such as few, besides the commander-in-chief himself could possess, indeed, we are dispored to believe, that, with the exception of the commander-in-chief alone, and perhaps of the quarter-master-general, no man in the army could tell so much, or hear more of what was going on, than the adjutant-general. Thus favoured by circumstances, Lord Londonderry naturally stands forth as a mark for the bitterest and most severe criticism. The public expects, and has a right to expect from him, much more than from an ordinary writer, however talented; and it is as creditable to himself, as we are sure it will be satisfactory to others, to be told, that their expectations will not be disappointed. We have no hesitation to say, that we have read nothing descriptive of any portion of the Peninsular war at all to be compared, in point of interest and important information, with the volume now before us. It is a plain, straightforward tale, told without affectation and without reserve; and the style is always easy, sometimes eloquent, and never slovenly, the descriptions, whether of natural scenery, or the movements of corps or armies, are uniformly clear and perspicuous, whilst the remarks here and there hazarded upon passing events, are judicious as well as forcible. On the whole, this narrative bids fair to take its place among the few works which are destined to survive the age in which they were compiled, -and will doubtless be read a century hence with the same interest with which we read it now. Lord Londonderry's narrative, properly so called, includes a space of something less than four years; beginning with an account of the campaign under Sir John Moore, and ending with a description of the siege and capture of Ciudad Rodrigo. To this, however, is prefixed an introduction, in which the causes that led to the appearance of a British army in the field of continental warfare, are explained, and a brief but lucid view taken of the Military and Political condition of the Peninsular nations prior to their invasion by the French. We consider this as a very valuable portion of the work; for though it throws little additional light upon facts already known, it brings them all within the compass of a single glance, and enables the reader to embark with the livelier interest in the personal narrative which succeeds. We cannot do better than follow, in our analysis, the example which the gallant writer has set in the work itself. Seldom have nations fallen to the depth of moral and political degradation, in which, from the year 1803 up to 1807, the sister kingdoms of Spain and Portugal were involved. With governments at once feeble and corrupt,-a despicable nobility, and a wretched clergy, it is no wonder that the affairs of both were mismanaged; or that the one became, in point of fact, a mere tool in the hand of France, and that the other was glad to purchase, by heavy contributions, an insecure neutrality. At the court of Madrid, Godoy, the Prince of Peace, the favourite of the king, and the Paramour of the queen, caused everything to be done, not for the public good, but for his own private aggrandisement; whilst at the court of Lisbon, the confessor for the time being was equally influential in turning the undivided care of his master to the aggrandisement of the church. Under such heads, what could be expected from the people of either country ?—Spain and Portugal became the most contemptible nations in Europe; so contemptible indeed, that instead of wondering at the feeble efforts which they afterwards made to resist the aggressions of Buonaparte, it ought rather to be with us a matter of surprise, that they ever dreamed of opposing him at all. But though such was the case among the higher classes,-though the nobility were sunk to the lowest pitch of degradation, though the clergy were avaricious and domineering,-though every department in the state was mismanaged, though the few soldiers which remained were without pay, without clothing, without arms; and the officers, taken from the dregs of the people, were not ashamed to wait as menials, in their uniforms, behind the chairs of their superiors ;-though all this was true to its utmost letter, we nevertheless agree with our author in opinion, that" it would not be easy to point out, in any quarter of the world, a nobler or a finer race of men, than those who cultivated the vine on the banks of the Ebro, and led their long strings of mules from one end of the kingdom to another." The true nobility of Spain, in other words, the real old and noble Spanish character, must be sought for among the peasantry alone. These, and especially the muleteers, retain all that proud sense of honour, that promptitude to take fire if an insult be offered, and that readiness to avenge it, which once animated all ranks in this unhap py country; and if, when brought into the field as soldiers, they rarely stood the shock of battle, their over throw is to be accounted for, not by supposing that the men themselves were deficient in courage, but by believing, what was the fact, that the officers were almost all spiritless, and many of them positively disaffected. As we have already hinted, Spain may thank, not her own exertions, but the exertions of Great Britain, for her deliverance from a foreign yoke; for though among the people the elements of true valour always existed, there was no one to collect or unite them; and hence they never found an opportunity of efficiently displaying themselves. The reader cannot have forgotten, that Godoy, alarmed at last by the overthrow of the Bourbon dynasty at Naples, and apprehensive that schemes might eventually be devised for his own destruction, acceded, in the year 1807, to the popular wish, of abandoning the ruinous alliance which Spain had so long maintained with France. With this design a secret treaty was entered into, to which the Baron Strogonoff, the Portuguese Am. bassador, and himself, were parties, the object of which was to organize a defection by Spain and Portugal from the French interests, at a moment when Napoleon should be engaged in opposing the Emperor of Russia in the North. Into this treaty it was proposed that England should be admitted, and that at an appointed time, France should be invaded on the south by a Spanish army, whilst a force of British troops should land somewhere on the eastern coast, and threaten Pa ris. With his usual precipitancy, however, Godoy betrayed the whole plot, by publishing certain extravagant proclamations long before any definite arrangements had been made; and thus a project, which, if properly matured and vigorously acted upon, might have led to the most splendid results, fell to the ground. Buonaparte was at once awakened by this abortive display of rancour, to a full sense of his danger. He disco vered abundant evidence of the treach ery of his ally in the palace at Berlin; and he determined from that moment that the houses of Bourbon and Bra ganza should cease to reign. It is not necessary for us to enter into any minute detail of those acts of consummate treachery and villainy, by which Napoleon proceeded to carry his resolution into effect. Availing himself of the divisions which existed in the bosom of the Royal family of Spain, he brought all parties to appeal to him as an arbitrator and judge, and he kept matters so nicely balanced between them, that each strove to ob tain a superiority of its rival by the extent of confidence which it reposed in his honour. At the same time, Spain was prevailed upon, by promises of aggrandisement to the Prince of Peace, to become a party in that infamous treaty, which decreed the dismember. ment of Portugal; and all that could be collected of Spanish troops, were so arranged as to support the force alrea dy assembled about Bayonne for the occasion. Lord Londonderry has given a con cise and spirited description of the march of the army of observation of the Gironde, through Spain and Por tugal, upon Lisbon; and he has drawn a lively picture of the embarrassment into which the Court of Lisbon was thrown, when, after acceding to every proposition on the part of France and |