Of the latter of these three powers, as a writer, Mr. W. possesses comparatively little; he seldom relieves his subject by familiar and colloquial illustrations; he is never ironical without being indignant, and he never relaxes into a playful humour.

In what may be considered as the tragic or serious poetry of their several works, Wordsworth may bear a comparison with Burke, but their eloquence is of different character: the imagery of Burke is more varied and dramatic, that of Wordsworth more intense and lyric: the one receives a coloured glare from his objects; the other reflects the pure light of his own mind. Only one short illustration can be given here. It is thus that W. deplores the convention of Cintra, and the reproach cast upon the country by it.

"O sorrow! O misery for England, the land of liberty and "courage and peace; the land trustworthy and long approved; "the home of lofty example and benign precept; the central orb to "which, as to a fountain, the nations of the earth' ought to repair, "and in their golden urns draw light!'-O sorrow and shame "for our country;-- for the grass which is upon her fields, and the "dust which is in her graves; --for her good men who now look 66 upon the day; and her long train of deliverers and defenders, "her Alfred, her Sidneys, and her Milton; whose voice yet 66 speaketh for our reproach; and whose actions survive in memory "to confound us, or to redeem!" P. 107.

It is however in reference to the spirit of philosophy which pervades this book, that the comparison may be most safely hazarded. A few sentences only are extracted from the very eloquent remarks on the influence of religion on the Spaniards, and as purified by suffering, which from page 109 to 118, are singularly striking and beautiful.

"Whatever mixture of superstition there might be in the re"ligious faith or devotional practices of the Spaniards; this must "have necessarily been transmuted by that triumphant power, "wherever that power was felt, which grows out of intense moral "suffering from the moment in which it coalesces with fervent ❝ hope. The chains of bigotry, which enthralled the mind, must "have been turned into armour to defend and weapons to annoy. "Wherever the heaving and effort of freedom was spread, purifi. "cation must have followed it." P. 114.

"Even the very faith in present miraculous interpositions, which "is so dire a weakness and cause of weakness in tranquil times "when the listless Being turns to it as a cheap and ready substi"tute upon every occasion, where the man sleeps, and the Saint, "or the image of the Saint, is to perform his work, and to give "effect to his wishes;-even this infirm faith, in a state of incite"ment from extreme passion sanctioned by a paramount sense of "moral justice; having for its object a power which is no longer "sole nor principal, but secondary and ministerial; a power added "to a power; a breeze which springs up unthought-of to assist the "strenuous oarsman;-even this faith is subjugated in order to be

exalted; and-instead of operating as a temptation to relax or to "be remiss, as an encouragement to indolence or cowardice; in"stead of being a false stay, a necessary and definite dependence "which may fail-it passes into a habit of obscure and infinite con"fidence of the mind in its own energies, in the cause from its own "sanctity, and in the ever-present invisible aid or momentary "conspicuous approbation of the supreme Disposer of things."

(P. 115, 116.)

Yet W. will not possess, or merit to possess, the popularity of Burke, who, being schooled in the House of Commons, always laboured to make himself intelligible to the lowest capacity. W. writes from the woods and lakes, and seems content to be understood and relished by a few like himself: his thoughts are great, but sometimes obscure; his genius is original, and therefore unaccommodating; his style is involved and uncouth, when not impassioned; and he resembles a man who limps till he has walked himself warm: hence the latter half of the pamphlet is better than the former, and he repeats, at the close, the thoughts of the beginning, with great improvement. The reader who grudges his time, may first begin at page 106; but when he has read the latter half, he will hardly choose to leave the former unread. The passages on the colossal but fragile power of Buonaparte, (p. 177); on the Spanish, as opposed to the French character, (p. 175); on the nature of enthusiasm, (p. 184); on the feeling of national independence, as opposed to civil liberty, (p. 165); on the unfitness of statesmen to sympathise with the people, from 138 to 138; and an abundance of

others, are singularly deserving attention.-In most instances the reader will think the sentiment correct, but in some he may deem it carried to excess: and at p. 134, where the author speaks of the consecration of passions, which, if not bad in themselves, are" in the calm of ordinary life rightly deemed "so;" and of their being corrected and embodied, till a "sublime moment of deliverance is to be originated;" he may be reminded, as the REVIEWER was, though the author probably did not intend it, of the Sicilian vespers. *

It is now necessary to recur to the last branch of this most interesting subject,-the probabilities of the success of the Spaniards, as afforded by the actual condition of their armies, and the events of the last and present campaign: here some reference at least must be made to the campaign of Sir John Moore, and the several works whose titles form a text to the present observations. It may here be asked, why the title of Mr. Moore's narrative of that campaign, as well as some controversial pamphlets, have been omitted above. The reason is, that the REVIEWER does not altogether approve of the modern practice of reviewing a book per antiphrasin, that is, by taking no notice of it. Mr. Moore's work is avowedly a vindication of the late commander-in-chief, whose military conduct in that character has been arraigned; and nothing else. And it would be arrogance in an unprofessional man to pretend to appreciate what depends in so great a measure on technical knowledge: an incidental reference will still be made to that work.

The REVIEWER is well aware that a large proportion of the public are, at this moment of calamity (September), prepared to consider all that has been hitherto said in this article, either as absurd, or not to the purpose. Late events they may think

* It is remarkable that this horrid transaction is the subject of an ancient Spanish tragedy, in which the patriots, or Sicilians, are the heroes. The play has been revived and acted with effect in the pe ninsula, since the late troubles.

have given the lye both to professor Arndt's characteristic, and Mr. Wordsworth's assumptions. The latter gentleman, they may say, is both a poet and a philosopher, and such characters have in all ages been exposed to error, from their expecting in life what is true only in idea; they may add that his conceptions of the Spanish character are avowedly founded on the Spanish proclamations, and public manifestoes. These are indeed precious morsels of eloquence, displaying high moral principle, clear and enlightened notions of right and wrong, and a just sense of the atrocity of their infamous adversary, and of the sanctity of their cause; but we err in estimating the average degree of popular feeling from the master-pieces of eloquence, which proceed from superior minds. At all events, the enthusiasm on which Mr. W. has dwelt so long, has shewn itself to be transient and partial: for though some facts seem to prove the genuineness of the virtues ascribed to the Spaniards, other facts as decidedly disprove their universal extent, as for instance, subserviency of some of the higher classes to Buonaparte; the neglect shewn even by the patriots to the English; the quick surrender of Madrid; the frequent defeats of the Spanish armies, &c. &c.-A reflection or two will serve to correct and explain all that is true in this statement, in perfect harmony with the sentiments already maintained.

The old government of Spain, it is universally allowed, was one of the very worst in Europe. Now a government consists not merely in the king and his courtiers: it has a vast tribe of ministerial dependants, military, ecclesiastical, fiscal, judicial, and municipal: all these will therefore partake more of the character of the court, than of the nation. Thus considered, it is perhaps rather to be wondered at, that só large a portion of the ministry, nobility, and prelacy, should have remained faithful to their country, rather than to their apparent personal interests. But why has the patriotic spirit produced effects so little correspondent with its character?

For a very simple reason; virtue is spirit, and requires its material organ. This organ, or instrument by which it becomes subservient to practical purposes, consists (in reference to the present subject,) in a great mass and variety of acquired talents, of which military skill is one of the most momentous. Now the Spanish people, being abandoned by their government, and destitute of education, are far behind other nations in the mechanic arts, in acquired dexterity, and the œconomical arrangements of business. Besides the shiftlessness and inertness consequent on this situation, there are traits of national character which have accidentally had a fatal influence in the war. Thus the riddle is resolved: whatever pure and unorganized courage and virtue could effect, that the Spaniards have done; but where, in addition to the noble and heroic sentiment, an accession of talent and skill was requisite; there they have been lamentably deficient. While we deplore the effect, let us not misrepresent the cause. The defence of a city is the easiest of all operations, to a people who have little military skill, but strong patriotism; who can heroically see their houses undermined one by one, and with inflexible fortitude resolve to perish in their ruins, rather than yield: but the same thing would be utterly impossible to the cultivated, polite, luxurious inhabitants of a city, the seat of all the

arts.

The heroes of Saragossa would not perhaps have been able to form the line in the ranks of an army, and might have been among the first to flee from Rio-Seco, Medellin, or Belchite. What then? Shall we raise the vile mercenary, or savage Cossack or Tartar above the citizens of Gerona? The disas ters therefore which have occurred to the Spanish armies; the panic which, in repeated instances, appears to have diffused itself over the Spaniards when arrayed in the field, do not in the least arraign the correctness of those statements, which have represented the whole Spanish people as animated by one spirit of resistance against the enemy. There is a passive, as well as an active courage and heroism: and a nation which is