self a friend and member of the Established Church, use his most strenuous efforts for the promotion of that subscription which is opened for assisting to carry into effect a plan for the erection of new Churches and Chapels, by uniting their influence and fortune for its upport: the former is in the power of the poorest individual; may every one who possesses the latter use it in this cause; they may rely on the assurance, they never cau exert it in a better. It is said, that the sum collected for the Cenotaph to the memory of the Princess Charlotte, has far exceeded the most sanguine expectations; and it appears to my mind, that a portion of it allotted to the building a free church would be more strikingly illustrative of the virtues and character of the deceased, and would prove more generally useful to the best interests of society, than any other method of disposing of it. I remain, Mr. Editor,

Your constant reader and Well-wisher, March 17, 1818.

E. R.

BIOGRAPHICAL REGISTER

OF

EMINENT PERSONS

RECENTLY DECEASED.

No. XXVII.

DOCTOR CHARLES BURNEY. HARLES

unwearied assiduity in this arduous profession. From the peculiar mortifications attendant upon this task, Dr. Burney was not exempt, although he toiled for so many years, and with so much success in this wearisome profession.

From this enervating profession the Doctor in 1812 totally retired, leaving in the hands of his son, the Rev. Charles Parr Burney, a charge which he had himself so long and so honourably exercised. In 1807, Dr. Burney entered into Holy Orders, and has resided since his retirement from the school, at his Rectory-house, at Deptford. There, in the continued prosecution of literary pursuits, were passed his latter years. Surrounded by the noble library he had collected, he enjoyed in the bosom of his family those pleasures which a cultivated mind can alone appreciate. There too, in the full vigour of manhood, with the promise of an extended life, he was summoned suddenly, but not unprepared to eternity. On Christmas eve, after reading to his family the sermon which he had prepared for the following day, he retired to bed in perfect health. Next morning, his servant, on entering his chamber, discovered that while dressing himself, he had been seized with an apoplectic fit, and was extended on the floor. lingered almost speechless till his dissolution on the Sunday following. The common consent,

He

King, Rector of St. Paul's, Deptford, Vicar of Hernhill, Kent, Professor of Ancient Literature in the Royal Academy, and Honorary Librarian to the Royal Institution, was the son of the late Dr. B. of musical celebrity. He was born in 1758, while his father resided as organist at Lynn, in Norfolk. At an early age he distinguished himself for his proficieney in classical learning; and as an assistant to Dr. Rose, at Chiswick, he perfected himself in those studies which in his later years acquired him the high reputation he so long enjoyed. On his marriage with Miss Rose the management of the school devolved upon him; and the best portion of his subsequent life was passed in the laborious duties of a schoolmaster for many years at Hammersmith, and afterwards at Greenwich. The eminence to which many of his pupils have risen in the pulpit, at the bar, and in the senate, bears strong testimony to his

scholar of the age. When Porson died, the palm became undisputed; and, though we have still left amongst us men, whom days of undivided toil, and nights of undiminished study, have rendered accomplished and profound, even by these the name of Burney will continue to be adduced, as of one who had reached the most emiueut literary ascendeucy. In his criticisms in the Monthly Review he has left admirable specimens of his talents and skill.

No man could endear himself to his friends more thoroughly than the subject of this sketch. His mind, stored with the richest treasures of antiquity, was equally attentive to the literature of the passing day, and the lighter ornaments of social converse flowed from him with a peculiar grace and playfulness. To the attainments of the scholar was added the polished carriage of the gentleman-and in his conversa

The Dragon Knight: A Poem, in Twelve Cantos. By Sir James Bland Burges. 8vo. 1818.

TH

HIS is truly a tale of chivalry, and the fable is involved in considerable intricacy. The scene is laid in Asiatic Greece, and the story commences in the tenth century. Orosmanes, the youthful monarch of Mysia, enamoured by description of the Princess Chariclea, the heiress of Mæonia, leaves his court by stealth, consigning the state to the care of his mother, and, under an assumed name and station, is introduced to King Prothenor and his beautiful daughter. The brother of Orosmanes, the gallant Aracynthus, alarmed by his protracted absence, quits Mysia, also incognito, and is consequently engaged in many perilous adventures, one of which conducts bim to Caria, where he also meets with a goddess in the Princess Zapheria, and, without discovering his real rank, soon wins her affections. The sister of this lady, another exquisite beauty, is per secuted by an unknown suitor, who, from the device on his shield, is called the Dragon Knight. Aracynthus learn ing that his mother is surrounded by enemies, determines to return to Mysia, but at that critical moment is involved in an adventure, by the issue of which, though guiltless, he is mistaken for the Dragon Knight, loaded with obloquy, and pursued with execrations. The Princess Zapheria, equally unable to forgive or forget her unfortunate lover, becomes a traveller also. Aracynthus, in the disguise of an old squire, attends and protects her; and in the perform ance of this duty, is unexpectedly reunited to his brother Orosmanes, who Europ.Mag. Vol. LXXIII. Mar. 1818.

The

has left the court of Prothenor and Chariclea in despair, but by the persuasions of his friends returns to it with reviving hopes. In the sequel, it appears, that Chariclea, by her rigour, had inflicted more pain on herself than her lover, and that she only acts in conformity to a false vow which she had been compelled to take by her father, who had been himself deluded by some ominous prediction. father of Zapheria, on the contrary, sanctions her inclination for Aracyuthus. At this blissful moment, the lovers are again parted by the machinations of the Dragon Knight; who is, however, at length, baffled, detected, and imprisoned: but his life being spared, he escapes from his dungeon, and, with the assistance of a warlike Queen, or Usurper of Bithynia, returns to Mæonia with an army of invaders, fires the capital, and takes Orosmanes prisoner, Aracynthus, in attempting to liberate his brother, is precipitated into the same ruin. Various incidents occur. Zapheria and Chariclea both signalize their tenderness and fidelity, and the conclusion is conformable to poetical justice. It is to be regretted that Sir Bland Burges did not select a subject more worthy of his real and acknowledged talents. With all the disadvantages of a fable complicated with episodes, he contrives to interest and amuse even when he bewilders and perplexes. The execu tion is often as admirable as the plan is defective. The following extracts, in which the shameless Iphimedia is contrasted with the virtuous Zapheria, afford a fair specimen of the author's style and vigorous versifica Ji

tion.

"High on her sumptuous throne, in royal state,

By conquest crown'd, with flatt'ring hope elate,

Repos'd Bythynia's queen, Her splendid board

With all that luxury could crave was stor'd; The dulcet flute, the harp's enlivening note, Her ear with harmony enchanting smote, While intermingling voices sweetly sung The charms of Bacchus ever fair and young, Or her who, springing from the frothy main, O'er love and pleasure holds despotic reign.

"Above the rest, as foremost in her grace, On her right hand Hyperbius held his place, With ivy chaplet crown'd his scowling brows.

He bad the not unwilling chiefs carouse, And, as the cup with juice nectarcous

fraught

With air commanding in his grasp he caught,

To the great queen,' he cried, 'be pow'r, be praise!

To her, brave chiefs, the song triumphant raise :

Drain your deep goblets, and your toast proclaim

Her health, prosperity, and deathless fame!'

They heard him, and obey'd: with one

In its own hour, on her devoted head
An ample retribution heav'n will shed.
To that I leave her. Far beyond her pow'r,
Great though it be, my thoughts aspiring
tow'r.

To thee, now wafted to thy kindred skies,
To thee, my Aracynthus! they arise.
Oh! for a while celestial joys forego,
Let my torn bosom with thine influence
glow,

Call forth each virtuous energy, impart
A more than female courage to my heart,
Sanction the sacrifice I make for thee,
Aid me to hail thy Orosmanes free;
Then, at the hateful altar as I stand,
Brace ev'ry nerve, confirm my erring hand,
Direct this poniard to the deep retreat
Of ebbing life, let my last pulses beat
Faithful to thee: then to those realms above,
Where dwell immortal purity aud love,
Let thy approving spirit be my guide,
Alike in life or death thy constant bride!'
"She said. Her eyes in holy rapture
rais'd,

On heav'n, where lay her treasur'd hope, she gaz'd.

On his lov'd image as repos'd her thought, Her speaking features its reflection caught, A more than human grace her form assum'd, A chaste and holy fire her eyes illum'd; She look'd as if, her painful ordeal o'er, She had already reach'd the blissful shore, Where hopes and fears no longer pang the

breast,

But all is transport, certainty, and rest.”

The Balchelor and the Married Man; or, The Equilibrium of the Balance of Comfort: A Novel. 3 vols.

In this agreeable novel, the question so often agitated in society, whether it be wiser for man to exist in the single or the married state, is exhibited in the attractive form of narrative, and resolved in that manner which is, we presume, most satisfactory to all but unamiable readers. Although there is not much novelty in the subject, the author has contrived to introduce considerable variety in the examples and illustrations of the arguments pour et contre. The story, though simple, is well constructed. The characters unfold themselves naturally and with grace; the dialogue is impregnated with a certain dramatic spirit, a quality always precious, and unquestionably most rare in a novel writer.

This work offers a grateful succedaneum to those who have been sated with sentiment or exhausted by romauce, and by its simplicity and sprightliness is well calculated to beguile the dullness of a winter evening, and to

lend a zest to the bright hearth, the bubbling urn, and the social fireside.

A Summary Method of Reading, upon the Principles originally discovered by the Sieur Berthaud. Arranged and adapted to the English Language, illustrated by Plates, by Mrs. Williams. 12mo. 1817.

In examining this meritorious work, we have been compelled to renounce our prejudices to theorists and to systems. Nothing can be more judicious than the application of Berthaud's principles, which the author has not only

illustrated but extended; and from the

testimony of many who have been long engaged in the laborious duties of edu cation, we are authorized to recom

mend this little volume, as not only calculated to facilitate the acquisition of our language to foreigners, but as offering to the schools of Bell and Lancaster whatever is wanting in their methods of instruction, to render them susceptible of practical and general utility.

be a certain introduction. The charge, however, is greatly exaggerated; but, even allowing its truth to a certain extent, may we not ask whether Shakspeare is not guilty of a similar fault? Yet, who looks on his immortal works with other feelings than those with which all men of true taste view a naked statue? It may seem venturous to bring Massinger's name into such author of the Essay on his Writings, competition; but Dr. Ferrears, the mentions him as not often much inferior, and sometimes nearly equal, to that wonderful poet:" and many tic's opinion, and atone for the grossare the passages which justify the criness, for which the age, rather than the poet, is accountable.

However difficult it may be to conis published in the hope of assisting tend against prejudice, this selection in its removal, and of bringing the hibiting some of the beauties which poet into greater estimation, by exadorn his pages, without offending the mishes them. eye with the indecency which bleGreat care seems to

pp. 304, 8s.

Come, but one verse.

Twelfth Night, Act ii. Scene 4.

WHOEVER reads the plays of Philip Massinger must concur in the surprise expressed by Dr. Ireland, that the geDius which produced them should have obtained, since his own age, so little notice in the world. For the gradual removal of this reproach on our taste we are indebted to Mr. Gifford, who has rescued them for ever" from the teeth of time," and has cleared them from the obscurity with which they were enveloped by their former editors. Still, however, the enjoyment of Massinger's beauties is confined to the literary few his name indeed begins to be more popular, and the idea of his excellencies is certainly advancing; but the ribaldry and looseness with which his plays are supposed to be interspersed, operate as a spell of exclusion from many libraries, into which their undoubted merit would otherwise

tion of others depends more upon their connexion with the scene.

In order

to render the latter more intelligible, an argument, as simple and unadorned as possible, is prefixed to each play. To this one of the most interesting scenes is added; so that the reader may not only relish the beauties of the poet, but become acquainted with the subject and conduct of his dramas, and with the style and manner in which they are composed.

:

The editor observes, that he is far from asserting that the present pub lication contains all that is worth selecting on the contrary, he freely acknowledges that much that would grace it is omitted. This arises from two causes; the limited size of a work of this nature, and the impossibility of separating many of the most admirable passages from the scenes in which they are coutained. But we feel convinced, that the readers of this selec tion will seek farther enjoyment in the perusal of the plays themselves, and we anticipate the time when to be well acquainted with Massinger will be nearly as common as it is now to have an intimate knowledge of his immortal contemporary.