to make use of licenses from which other poets have shrunk, and to produce verses that cannot but please, though offending against the strict rules of prosody: but Tennyson, though he has doubtless succeeded in relieving the monotony of blank verse, has too often done so at the expense of harmony and smoothness. This is partly owing to the contempt which he frequently shows for the more mechanical resources of poetry for its extraneous ornaments, which he apparently rejects as unworthy of himself. Melody of diction and splendour of versification have not unaptly been styled the "luxuries of poetry;" but while to constitute them its chief excellence would argue a meretricious and perverted taste, they are not to be denied their just importance, when coupled with poetical ideas and right morality. Mr. Tennyson seems too often to have adopted as a maxim, "Take care of the ideas, and the words will take care of themselves;" the result of which has been, that the former have been more than half spoilt by the carelessness of the language in which they are clothed. We have been so far drawn into a digression on the general merits and defects of Mr. Tennyson's style, that our limited space renders it necessary for us to postpone the conclusion of these remarks till our next number-when we hope to acquit ourselves of a taste far more pleasant to us and to our readers than finding fault, that of pointing out the chief beauties of the work before us, and its claims on the favour of the public. (To be continued.) Who is he that standeth yonder, not only "in fair round belly with good capon lined," but encased in a goodly garment of broad-cloth, with a smirking smile upon his lips, and a free-and-easy yet respectful demeanour towards every one, as at one time he presses a new customer to partake of his delicacies, at another confidently assures some youthful politician that ministers must go out, and anon pours into the greedy ears of an eager knot of listeners his various news; how my Lord Goitfast, who has just arrived as a new fellow, is the son of the Marquis of Spatterdash, that he has brought an unheard of sum of money with him, that he has unlimited "tick" at the various shops, and that his great-grand-mother was Chief Lady of the Robing Chamber to the Grand Duchess of Smellowisky? "Tis "Smirkall;" a mysterious personage, about whom strange things are rumoured; his origin and early history are, like those of many other celebrated personages, enveloped in mystery; he is alternately represented as the descendant of some time-honoured race, who by a slippery trick of fortune have lost their baronial halls, as some sleek friar, escaped from monkish thraldom, and dark hints have been thrown out, that he is an adept in cabalistic arts, a being endowed with supernatural knowledge. Whoever he may really be, he is an object of great respect among the new-comers, who consult him with a kind of awe, and woe betide the unlucky wight, who by word or deed has transgressed what Smirkall considers the proper limits of good-breeding; ere the day passes, the "heinous offence" is related with many useful, though perhaps not very flattering, comments to a large and highly-edified circle of lower boys, and a nick-name, that has remained attached to any one during his Eton career, has not unfrequently owed its origin to the sarcastic wit of our Knight of the SockBasket. See, yonder he stands, apparently absorbed in expatiating on the merits of some rare delicacy with an aristocratic name (for most of Smirkall's good things are called after the nobility of the land) to a little customer, but all the while he is casting his keen ferret-like eyes around, and, observing that "Mordaunt min." is walking with "Trevor," the Captain of the Boats, he assures some "particular friend" the following day, that he thinks he could name the steerer for this year's Eight, and invariably replies to the incredulously uttered question "who?" with, "never mind, Sir; we shall see, Sir; yes Sir." Would you know the history and lineage of any boy in this great school; would you know who is likely to be the Newcastle Scholar; the boy who will get the highest score at Lord's this year; the reason why "so-and-so" is so popular, and "so-and-so" cut by any particular set; in a word the why and the wherefore of everything that happens in this little world, go and ask Smirkall, and I will bet ten to one that he furnishes you will all due particulars, for he "Is Sir Oracle, and when he opes his mouth, MIMNERMUS, II. W. I. We, like the leaves in spring's deep-blossomed hours, Like them, still toy with youth's ambrosial flow'rs, We owe them good or ill-But night and day Of eld-that cuts the thread of Life away. And shortly doth the pride of youth remain, Ev'n as the Sun's fair light, that stretcheth o'er the plain. II. But when this hour of prime is left behind, Soon carking troubles eat away the mind. Ling'ring beneath some fell disease's blow There is no man on earth, who hath not many a woe CATO. LUCAN, B. II. 380-392. Such was his virtuous Life; such the ways of rough-hewn old Cato ; Studious the mean to observe; all his plans unbending to follow Each to its own due end; to obey the dictates of Nature; And to shew forth by his deeds, by the loan of his life to his country, Not for himself that he lived, but for all earth's infinite offspring. Sure 'twas a feast in his eyes, but to quell the requirements of hunger. That for his palace he took, which, with roof well-thatched and compacted, Best kept off winter's cold :-on his limbs, as princely apparel, Soul of strict honour too! Good and wise for the commonweal only. Ne'er did self-love play part, stealing into that patriot bosom, E'en throughout one short scene in the acts of Cato the Upright! C. B. B. THE VOICE OF NATURE. Through all the world unceasingly There rings a silent voice, "Rejoice with me, rejoice!" T |