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Alfred's joyful meeting with Donald and his Caledonian troops,; whose apprehended destruction he had so feelingly deplored; and also by the discovery of Donald's early though subdued passion for Elsitha.

In the fifth book, the traitor Ceolph, burning with resentment on account of the violation of his daughter Emmeline's honour by one of the Danish chiefs, repairs to Alfred's camp, earnestly requesting his injured sovereign to doom him to the death which he both merited and wished. By the clemency of Alfred, however, he is spared to execute vengeance on the foe. In the early dawn of the day the Saxon warriors move forward, and, in the course of their march,--

· Passing the borders of the forest drear,
A shriek of female anguish pierced the ear,
And, starting from the shade, a figure wan,
With piteous plaint arrests the wondering van.
Loose flow'd her careless robe, her streaming hair
Floated, in ruffled tangles, to the air,

And on her livid cheek and haggard eye,

Throned in imperial state, sat Misery.

With voice by weeping choked, convulsed her breast,

The woe-lorn form the passing host address'd.

"O, see before you, humbled to the dust,

A victim sad of cruelty and lust.

When in the battle's doubtful shock ye join,
Think of the horrors of a fate like mine;

The curses of a violated maid

Shall nerve each arm, shall sharpen every blade.
For me conceal'd my lineage and my name-
Ah, once my country's glory! now its shame!--
One only way remains from deep disgrace
To clear the offspring of a noble race."-

She ceased-and instant in her struggling breast

Her fatal poniard sheath'd, and sunk to rest.' P. 156.

This injured female is the daughter of Ceolph. Fired by the sight of her sufferings, the troops of Alfred hasten to fall upon the invaders. The battle of Eddington ensues, which Mr. Pye describes with classic circumstantiality. The Danes are defeated; but Alfred counts the battle dearly won, by the death of Donald, who is slain in the heat of the engagement. The fall of night terminates the battle, and, with it, the fifth book of the poem.

In the sixth book, we find the Saxon army pursuing the advantage which they had gained, and blockading the Danish camp on Ashdown-hill. By the light of the moon, a body of Danes are seen hastening their flight over the adjacent plain. They are surrounded and taken prisoners, A youthful warrior, who was entrusted to their protection, is conducted into the

presence of Alfred, who generously assures him of safety; on which unexpected promise,

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Contending passions struggling in the breast,
Low sinks the youth, by fear and hope depress'd.
Edgar, as prompt to succour and to spare,
As the dread front of bleeding war to dare,

Caught the faint stripling ere he reach'd the ground,
And from his head the shining helm unbound.
Though on the lips was Death's pale ensign spread,
Though from the cheek the blooming rose was fled,
Though on the liquid radiance of the eyes,

The sable lash a silken curtain lies;

Yet o'er the brows, which, with the forehead, show
Like jet encircled in a bed of snow,

Flows in loose ringlets to the fresh'ning air

The soft redundance of the ambrosial hair,

And charms, of more than mortal grace, betray'd
The form and features of a beauteous maid.' P. 219.

This beauteous maid is Emma, the daughter of Guthrum the Danish chief-admiration of whose charms had for a time seduced Edgar into the service of the Danes; from which treason he was, as we have before observed, converted by his regard for the personal safety of Alfred. When Guthrum is apprised of the captivity of his daughter, he repairs to the camp of Alfred for the purpose of ransoming her. After sternly refusing the proffered gold, and apprising his suppliant that he will allow him but a short space to deliberate upon his choice of battle or unconditional submission, Alfred continues:—

For this sweet maid, whom Fortune's changeful hour
Has given a captive to my happier power,

Whether you yield to Concord's gentler charms,
Or dare the stern arbitrement of arms,

I pledge my faith her beauties to restore,

Free, and unransomed, to her native shore;
Or, if she fear o'er Ocean's wave to roam,

I am her parent, and my realm her home.' P. 225.

Guthrum is so much affected by the generosity of Alfred's purposes with regard to his daughter, that he yields to his mercy, and, together with his troops, adopts, by the ceremony of baptism, the Christian profession. A chorus of bards now advances to congratulate the Saxon prince on his victory; and the inspired druid again strikes the prophetic string, to celebrate the establishment of the university of Oxford, the personal freedom which the wise institutions of our Saxon ancestors se cured to the meanest citizen, the wide extent of British commerce, the union of Britain and Ireland, the happy life and mature death of Edward the son of Alfred, and-what a noble

summit to the climax! Mr. Pye's publication of Alfred, an epic poem in six books! This is a species of puff for which the writer is certainly entitled to a patent: it is altogether original, never having, to the best of our knowledge, been thought of by Bays, or any other wit.

Such is the argument of the poem before us; and our readers are now enabled to form a judgement of its general outline, in which we think the author's principal merit consists. As to imagination, he neither elevates the mind nor agitates the feelings. The character of Alfred contains nothing forcible or interesting-nothing which evinces the hand of a master; while his queen is a more common character than himself. Mr. Pye seems to have studied books more than the world: he vainly endeavours to make up the want of the language of passion by narration and epithets; and his poem contains little, very little, of true dramatic spirit. Mr. Pye appears also unfortunate in his determination to write an epic poem in rhyme; by the dire necessity of providing for which, he is frequently seduced into an unwarrantable phraseology. The quotation of a few instances will illustrate our meaning.

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O sire! O sovereign! let thy favouring breast
Propitious hear thy Donald's first request.' P. 45.
Again-

Fenced by whose sacred leaves, the royal brow
Mocks the vain lightnings aimed by Faction's blow.'

P. 88.

We are persuaded that the necessity of rhyme alone compelled Mr. Pye to introduce the awkward idea of a breast hearing. And what but the same cause could have betrayed him into the following tame tautology, which occurs in p. 46?

My fondness shall not dim thy warlike fire,
Or check that courage which it must admire.'
A similar instance strikes us again in p. 62:

• How horde succeeding horde, in countless band,
Spread desolation o'er the ruin'd land,

Swept o'er the cultured plains in sanguine flood,
And mark'd their course by carnage and by blood.'

Of passages which appear to us to be enfeebled by this radical defect we could gather a copious harvest; but we are confined within certain limits; and willingly forego the unpleasant task of multiplying quotations which critical justice compels us to mark with disapprobation. Before we conclude our article, however, we must be permitted to remark, that we were surprised to find, in the work of a translator of Aristotle's

Poetics, so many mixed and incongruous metaphors. The fol lowing passage is extremely faulty in that respect:

A sacred throne on Mercy's basis rear'd,
By Virtue foster'd, by Oppression fear'd ;-
To which thy guardian laws shall boast they gave
One power by aught uncheck'd, the power to save.'

P.

90.

Here the throne is first an inanimate substance reared on a basis; but, by the hocus pocus of our poet's language, it soon becomes a person, and is fostered, feared, and possessed of power. Mr. Pye's occasional attempts to put into metre the popular political phrases of the times frequently betray him into great incorrectness and a vitiated form of expression, which in the present cultivated age is almost unpardonable: for the remark of the elegant La Harpe is strictly just,- L'indulgence se mesure encore sur le temps où l'on a ecrit, et sur le plus ou moins de modèles que l'on avait. Quand une fois ils sont en grand nombre, les fautes ne sont plus rachetables qu'à force de beautés.'

ART. II.-Encyclopædia Britannica; or, a Dictionary of Arts, Sciences, and Miscellaneous Literature, &c. Illustrated with Five Hundred and Forty-two Copper-plates. The Third Edition, greatly improved. 18 Vols. 4to. 271. Boards. Lackington and Co.

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ART. III.-Supplement to the Third Edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica, &c. By George Gleig, LL. D. &c. Illustrated with Fifty Copper-plates. 2 Vols. 4to. 31. Beards. Lackington and Co.

FIFTEEN years have elapsed since the same hands, which have lately turned over the pages of the third edition of this Dictionary, with its Supplement, opened it on its earliest appearance. Various circumstances at that time prejudiced us against it; but we perused it with patience, with all the impartiality in our power, and were convinced of the general merits of the work. After another examination, we-have recurred to our former article in the 64th volume, O. S.; nor do we meet with a word there that, dying, we would wish to blot.' Whatever we have blamed has been since corrected. The changes in fifteen years must be of course numerous; and the additions, in an age of rapidly improving science, not

less so.

In that volume of our journal in which we considered the present work, and the improved edition of Mr. Chambers's Cy

clopædia published at the same period, we gave at some length our ideas of the utility of such an attempt-of its objects and execution. These remarks we need not repeat, and we perceive nothing that can at present be added. It remains only to speak of the improvements in the third edition, and of the merit of the two supplementary volumes.

It is singular that two works of the same kind, both of acknowledged desert, should have been undertaken by two individuals, and brought to no small degree of perfection, with very slight assistance, We allude to Mr. Chambers's Dictionary, and this before us. The latter was almost exclusively the labour of Mr. Macfarquhar, a printer. In its progressive editions, however, the assistants have been numerous and able.

In a collection so extensive and multifarious, a few mistakes, repetitions, and omissions, might surely be passed over without severity of censure, although the publication had from the beginning to the end been superintended by the same man; but they will be allowed to have been almost unavoidable, when it is known that, after the work was far advanced, it was committed to the care of a new editor, who, though he was in a great degree a stranger to the contents of the printed volumes, found no clue of his predecessor's which could guide him accurately through those to be compiled.

We beg it to be understood, that this observation is not made with a view to remove any share of blame from the second to the first editor; for Mr. Colin Macfarquhar, who conducted the publication beyond the middle of the twelfth volume, was a man whom few who knew him will be disposed to blame, and on whose industrious integrity those who knew him best must admit that it would be difficult to bestow too much praise. Born in Edinburgh of parents respectable, though not affluent, he was, at an early period of life, bound an apprentice to a printer. This profession gave him a taste for science and literature, or rather furnished him with opportunities of cultivating the taste which he derived from nature; and he soon became well acquainted with the most popular writers in natural history, and in natural and moral philosophy. When he opened a printing-house of his own, rectitude of conduct quickly recommended him to friends and to employment; and the unremitted prosecution of his studies eminently qualified him for superintending the publication of a new dictionary of arts, sciences, and literature; of which, under the title of Encyclopædia Britannica, the idea bad been conceived by him and his friend Mr. Andrew Bell, engraver. By whom these gentlemen were assisted in digesting the plan which attracted to that work so much of the public attention, or whether they had any assistance, are questions in which our readers cannot be interested. Suffice it to say, that Mr. Macfarquhar had the sole care of compiling the present edition; and that, with the aid of a very few literary friends, he brought it down to the article Mysteries, in the twelfth volume, when he was cut off in the forty-eighth year of his age by a death which, though not sudden, was perhaps unexpected. His career was indeed short; but of him it may be said

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