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the writings of his apostles, glow with the luxuriance of eastern metaphor!*

As to what regards the poem itself, I have not many things to remark. The groundwork of the plot occurs in the second volume of the Chronicles of Sir John Froissart, chapter the twenty-sixth; but I have not been at all solicitous to adhere closely to historical facts. I have indeed taken great libérties with the de tail, and varied from it, as much, and as often, as it seemed convenient. Whatever circumstances I have used, will be found among the notes, in the excellent translation of Bourchier, Lord Berners, first published in 1523.

A remarkable passage occurs in the Memoir of the late Re. verend and excellent Henry Martyn, chaplain to the East India Company, and missionary at Dinapore, which I recommend to the particular notice of my Readers. “ Since 1 have known God." He says, “ in a saving manner, painting, poetry, and music have “ bad charms unknown to me before. I have received what I i

suppose to be a taste for them; for religion has refined my

mind, and made me more susceptible of impressions from the “ sublime and beautiful.” It would be an inaccurate and uncharit. abte inference to affirm that the condemners of poetry, have no religion: but it is perfectly correct to say, that true religion is the very soul of genuine poetry!

The few obsolete words and phrases, which may be noticed, have not been introduced wantonly, or without consideration. Whenever they are met with, they have been thought to express something more than the words in common use, and therefore to be redeemed from undeserved obscurity. I desire not to give an appearance of antiquity to my labors, but to catch the inspiration of the olden times; and occasionally pass into circulation the

pure and sterling coin, which has been so long, and so culpably neglected. In one respect, it is true, I have departed willingly from the practice of the elder dramatists. In their productions, the line which a preceding speaker has left unclosed, is generally terminated by the one that follows: and at least this custom has been almost universally adopted by modern writers. But I confess there is to me, something ridiculous in the observance of it. A dying hero has but an unseemly post assigned him, who must wait to close the line with his existence; and methinks the ago

• As for example, in Shakespeare's Play of “ King John," Act 4, Scene S. Arthur, leaping from the walls, exclaims : 3

nies of a breaking heart, correspond not easily with syllabic niceties! Where besides is the advantage? If I may trust to my own notions of harmony, or credit the assurance of my ears, the verse may flow as smoothly with a broken line beginning and concluding a speech, as if continued regularly to the end. In fact, do all we can, the lines are necessarily broken ones; and it is but in few instances that the ear, by any effort, can convey the sound to the next speaker. What is superfluous, therefore, may be discarded; and I trust I shall be acquitted as well of presumption, as of a propensity to innovation merely for its own sake. It is, I believe, a fashionable doctrine of the day; but I disclaim all part in it.

- And now, since the sails of my little vessel are set, her tackling complete, the anchor

« O me! my uncle's spirit is in these stones:-
• Heaven take my soul and England keep my bones!" (Dies,

Where it is to be noted, besides, that not only is the line up at the death-in fox-hunter's phrase, but a very capital rhyme, (to continue the metaphor) blows the note of triumph over the fallen! It is the absolute “ Who, oo whup," of a Fox chace!

weighed, and the wind blowing freshly from the shore; as one unaccustomed to the ocean, yet delighted with the swelling of its waters, and with a heart bounding like the wave, I bid them --launch into the deep!

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THE HEIR OF FOIZ.

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