William, on his imperial throne at York His sword unsheath'd appears, which none beside 1 Fitz-alain lowly knelt, And kiss'd his iron-hand, then slow arose, Whilst all the barons shouted, "Live the King!", We cannot say that Mr. B.'s repeated alliterations have any charms for our ears: as, for instance, in the following lines: Now flickering fast with foam. The sea-fowl flew." Whose brows might better a blue bonnet grace.' The "Vision of Pearce Plowman" cannot supply finer examples. NOVELS. Art. 19. Bleddyn; a Welsh National Tale. By W. S. Wickenden, the Bard of the Forest, Author of "Count Glarus, of (Switzerland." 2 Vols. 12mo. Baldwin and Co. - Do we live to congratulate our readers on the resuscitation of Welsh bards, to encounter, alas, once more not sharp English swords but the sharp and cruel pens of English reviewers? We trust, however, that we shall be more merciful to the race of Llewellyn and Taliessin than the weapon of the first Edward. Indeed we feel somewhat awe-stricken on this occasion, and the prophetic denunciation of "The Bard" is ringing in our ears; "Weave the warp and weave the woof, We We must be careful what we say, lest we come in for a share of the poetical curse either of the living authors or the dead, be anathematized by Mr. Wickenden, or his Meg Merrilies' witch Mabil, and our name be finally thrown into some diabolical conjuring well, with which, we are told, the superstitions of the principality abound. We trust, however, that the occasion will not call for that severity of criticism which might render us amenable to the laws of the old Cambrian mythology, the race of land or water spirits, wild Druid bards, blasted trees, and haunted caves, with the dirges of Llewellyn still borne by the winds "o'er the desart sands." On the contrary, the romantic sound of the Bard of the Forest,' and 'Author of Count Glarus, of Switzerland,' will of itself be sufficient to disarm the critic of half his terrors, and our arrows recoil on ourselves blunted with the potent charms and witchery of such names. Why should we not have more national tales? → something of the old British stamp! The Scotch have their national tales, the Irish have theirs, and the French, Dutch, and Flemish. - We ought, indeed, to add something of prose to old Chaucer's Canterbury verse. So Mr. W. thinks: : but we suspect that the difficulty consists in discovering a genius equal to the task of delineating the habits and manners of a people, rather than in finding an author, like Mr. W., eager and confident enough to make the attempt. He has not, by any means, altogether failed in it but such an undertaking requires powers of no common order; and these Mr. W. certainly does not command. He manifests no exquisite knowlege of life and character; no broad and deep acquaintance with the force and origin of human passions; no antiquarian or national research into the genius and records of the people, "with native power, and learned skill," to combine his various and conflicting materials into one harmonious and picturesque view. Yet all these, with much more, are essential to the writer of a truly national tale: such as perhaps Sir W. Scott and Miss Edgeworth alone can boast. Though deficient in these higher requisites of a novelist, and in the prouder claims of authorship on the leading passions and feelings of his readers, Mr. W. will still be found to possess merit and awaken interest sufficient to entitle him to regard. In his "Count Glarus, of Switzerland," some specimens of his poetry were interspersed, with descriptions, particularly from rural life, of no ordinary kind; displaying a reality and a freshness of life for which we may in part account by the author's residence in the forest, where, devoted to a country life, he is more indebted to the smiles of nature and the muse than to the factitious charms of art or for tune. His poems, and the descriptive portions of his novels, are thus the more simple and natural, though wanting in other qualities not easily to be given up: but his poetry, like his novels, is deficient in dramatic interest, incident, and pathos, The Tale of Bleddyn' is too slight and irregular to preserve a just and well sustained interest: the characters are ill defined and unequal; unequal; and the story is altogether of too flimsy and commonplace a texture to add interest to the representation of local scenes and manners. Its merit therefore lies rather in the times and circumstances in which the scene is placed, than in the nature of the tale itself. The period chosen is the civil war of Charles I.; and the hero is a Cambrian chevalier of the first order, and aide-decamp to Prince Rupert. We have consequently a fine loyal tone of politics running through the whole of it; and the republicans are not merely Roundheads, and Saints, but the latter appellation is often made a convertible term with that of devils. A tolerably animated account is given of some of the battles, with the various characters of the leaders; and the fatal encounter of the armies at Naseby is well told, marking also the impetuous temper of Prince Rupert. Art. 20. Maurice Powell. An Historical Welsh Tale of England's Troubles. 3 Vols. 12mo. Baldwin and Co. Ecce iterum! a Welsh novelist. - In Maurice Powell we have a cavalier of the old stamp; a military hero, like Dalgetty, of the Gustavus-Adolphus school, displaying his military courage and skill in aid of the civil wars of England, criticizing the manœuvres of Prince Rupert, and lauding Bishop Laud and King Charles. He is of a very hot temperament, and very nearly puts an end to Cromwell's hopes of the protectorship, by knocking him on the head in battle. In order that we may have a good account of his genealogy, he is not born until the conclusion of the first volume then he sleeps and idles away his time through the second; and he fights desperately, until he gets married, in the third. So much for the hero! The subordinate personages are of still less attractive metal, mere men of straw, both grave and witty; aping, like their master, the accomplishments of some of their progenitors in the Waverley line. The incidents are not much more new or surprizing; the old battles are fought over again, and thrice the slain are slain. The author's heroines, also, are of a very lumpish and unkneaded sort of clay, incompetent to animate the dull and lifeless beings by whom they are surrounded. Though, however, the interest of the story sadly droops, the language and narrative are less objectionable; being interspersed with occasional good descriptions, historical anecdotes, and pleasing and amusing remarks. Yet these merits cannot redeem the deficiencies of the work, nor preclude its author from the salutary advice which we offer, to devote his time and talents to objects that may better reward his exertions. POLITICS. Art. 21. A Letter to the Fundholders; containing a Plan for the Reduction of the National Debt, &c. By a Templar. 8vo. 2s. Pickering. 1822. It must be admitted that this learned Templar is sufficiently enthusiastic in his admiration of his Majesty's ministers; and he talks ; of of Whigs and Radicals with a fluency of indignation which, we should think, nothing but long and steady attendance in debating societies could have produced. We present our readers with a sketch of his plan in his own words: The first part of my plan would be to do away with the present sinking-fund, on which subject I will enter more fully presently: I then would transfer all the stocks to the 3 per cent. consols, at the market price of 801.; but would not suffer the holders of the 3 per cents., or the 4 per cents., to lose any thing by the change; they should receive in bonuses the full amount of the difference between the stocks. This would of course be no saving to the nation, but would cost us a few millions in capital: it would, however, be necessary for my next arrangement, which is to reduce the present nominal amount at which the 3 per cent. consols are to be paid off, to the real value at the present market price, viz. 80l. This measure, though it would be productive of the greatest national good, would injure no one -no fundholder would lose one sixpence of the real capital which he now possesses. Our total unredeemed debt now nominally amounts to 794,980,4817., the real value of which, if it consisted entirely of 3 per cents., would, at the present market-price, be worth 633,984,485l.; but as the prior reduction which I have mentioned before, of converting the 3 and 4 per cents. to 3 per cent., would cost us some millions, I will take the real value of the debt of the country, at the market price of 80%., to amount to 640,000,000Z.*, and to this sum I would immediately reduce the capital, and should be surprised to hear that it would be productive of loss to any individual; this, however, as it does not take any thing from you, would be productive of no immediate relief to the nation; the interest you would receive by funding at 80%. would be 4 per cent.; this I would reduce to 3 per cent.; and you will observe that the redeeming price of the 3 per cents. would then be 80%., bearing an interest of 3 per cent., which would be 21. per annum, instead of 4 per cent., which is 37. per annum. The interest of 640,000,000l., at 4 per cent., amounts to 25,600,000l. The interest on the same sum, at 3 per cent., amounts to 19,200,000l. The relief, therefore, which the nation would receive from this measure would be 6,400,0007., which is the total loss of the fundholders.' This contribution from the fundholders is to be accompanied, according to the scheme of the author, by a proportionate contribution from the other members of the community; and he calculates that 100,000,000l. might easily be raised within four years from the three professions, land-holders, manufacturers, merchants, bankers, miners, and tradesmen. The following is the reduction of taxes which he proposes: * *.640,000,000l.; perhaps this sum is rather too little, I would wish, however, to attract your attention to it.'. • Salt The author gives some hints to his friends, the other members of the Constitutional Association; and, after having abused the sinking-fund, he relapses into his vehemence against those who are in opposition to his Majesty's government. MISCELLANEOUS. Art. 22. Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life, a Selection from the Papers of the late Arthur Austin, 12mo. pp. 430. 10s. 6d. Boards. Blackwood, Edinburgh; Cadell, London. 1822. We have heard it asserted that this publication owes its birth to the prolific author of "Annals of the Parish," &c. to whose two recent productions we have paid attention in p. 72. of this Number: but, as we have no sufficient evidence that such is the fact, we have not ventured to include it in the article above mentioned. The volume before us contains a series of Scotish stories, often displaying a religious cast, some of which may certainly be termed interesting; and they have the advantage of being short. The charm of a simple story, however, is broken by aukward efforts at fine writing, and we wish in vain that this undeniable truth had been more present to the writer's mind. From the example of the highly gifted author whom he professes to hold in the utmost reverence, and of whose portraitures he seems occasionally emulous, he might have attempted at least to borrow a happy and unaffected ease of description and congruity of diction; though he might have despaired of following such mighty footsteps in the career of invention and fancy. That great master would not have introduced in his sketch of a rustic beauty, the Lily of Liddesdale,' the "purple patch-work" of the following passage; nor would his delicacy of taste have permitted him to tarnish the simplicity of the delineation by blessed voices whispering affection beneath the greenwood tree,' or 'chords within her heart that dimly told her that heart might one day have its own peculiar and overwhelming love.' Amy Gordon had reached her nineteenth summer — and as yet she knew of love only as she had read of it in old border songs and ballads. These ancient ditties were her delight — and her silent soul was filled with wild and beautiful traditions. In them love seemed, for the most part, something sad, and whether prosperous or unhappy, alike terminating in tears. In them the young |