The Sun.
London, England, 1814-09-14 00:00:00

THE SUN REVIEW.

(No. X XXiX

LARA, a Tale; pp. 93.—lAcQuLINt, a Tale.; pp. 81.—

_ • .1. RRAY, SW). piice 7s. Gd.
[Condaded from TILE SVN of Friday last

I-lad we not promised so often to notice the
appendage to Lens, entitled Jacqueline, we should
now have passed it over in silence. It is so
pretty, infantile, and fragile, that there is no
handling it without incurring the risk of its
crumbling. into pleCes.; and after contemplating
the kite so long as we haVe clone, there is little
pleasure to be derived from a dissection of its
tail4--(Ar . I.l.dGEas spells it tale)—composed, as
Usual, of many shreds of paper, twisted into
something like form, and strung together (I-Jea-:
yen bless the mark I) at measured distances.—
But, allons ! for the tender Jacqueline of-Rogers :
for wemay drop the disguise which the Authors
never seriously appropriated, and consider this
Poem as the production of the Writer of " The
Pleasures of Memory," as Lara is of the misan-
thrope Lord TINION, without his magnificence,
spirit, and generosity.
This delicate female, as if anxionsjto steal into
some notoriety with the world, which-her own
,beauty would scarcely attract, has appeared in the
train of a personage of considerable celebrity
among the present race of Poets The fame of
Lord, BIRON caused Lara to be read, and at the
end of Lara, no one could be so churlish as to
deny 'a few minutes time to, scan the unassuming
merits of.the fair Jacqueline. Thus
.tethrted to
waste the precious moments, we, we have perused
this mighty simple story, and had the invincible
resolution to simmer over upwards of 30 long
pages of short verse, -of the species of namby-
pamby. Yet were any one to ask us what great
faults we discovered in this Poem (for we must
call it so) we should say none ; and, again, were
it enquired 11.• hat blemishes occurred to us in our
sleepy progress .through its flowery way, w.e must
still answer, very few ! It has no great faults,
and few prominent blemishes : it has nothing to
rouse a strong passion-of dislike, or to excite
powerful distaste-4n truth, it moves no passion
at all ;—it is a disk of skim-milk—pure, unadul-
terated insipidity ;—tame, tiresome, and stupify-
ing, except where doggrel breaks the even current
of dullness.

The subject is opened by the flight of Jacque-
line from tier father's cottage in Provence ; and
it appi-irs, in the course of three Cantos, that the
young Lady adopted this prudent measure in con-
sevence of the wish of her Sire to force her, con-
trary to her inclination, to marry a Nobleman in
preference to her favoured and formerly approved
lover, D'Arcy. This is followed by some descrip-
tions IA the confusion and distress accasion*l by
this untoward event ; and the ultimate return of
the t-epentant (but for fear of accidents, married)
daughter, and the forgiveness of St. Pierre (the
father), and general happiness is the denouement.
It is not our intention to go regularly through
this trifle, either critically to point out errors, la,
boriously to follow the course of the tale (alias
tail) as aforesaid, or generally to display the style
and manner in wlich the whole is completed. We
shall merely remark upon one or two censurable
passages, and conclude with such extracts as may
display the best parts of the Author, and the ge-
neral sing-song prettiness of his work.
Within the first twenty lines •xe discover, that.
he is inclined to be as much indebted for useless
rhymes to the words " there" and " here," as
even the person whose Poem occupies the preced-
ing portion of the volume. We are told that,the-
-

Flies from her home, the humble spheie,
Of ail her joys and sorrows here—
where should they be ? this free employment of
worthless expL tives, ill places of note, is extreme-
ly reprehensible. He proceeds,—
Her father's horse of mountain stone,
And by a moloitain-vine o'evgrown.
At such an h.,ur in such a night,
So calm; so clear, so heavenly bright,
ho would have seen and not confessed
It looked as all within were blest
[There are a number of very useful lirle words
left out here.]
What will not woman, when she loves ?
Yet lost, alas, who can restore her?— . •
She lifts the latch, the wicket moves;
And now the world is all before her.

ln proceeding with the Poem, we find an an-
swer to the second of the querrics in the laStfour
lilies, viz. that when lost a woman can restore
herself ; but as for the first question, we are coin-
' • ''s .1 very unwillingly to take Mr. 11,0GEit's
an-
swer, to•wit,, that when woman loves, she will
eakcil aml move a wicket ! ! What a spirited
and successful cricketer !

, .
At page 101, we have two lines pretty closely
imitated froM the song of " Hush, baby, hush !"
and, in truth, any thing babyish offered too con-
genial temptations for plagiarism to.be resisted by
Mr.RooEtts. The song says— ,
Alas! he's gone and gone fpr ever,
Never shalt thou see him—never.
Hush, baby, hush! ,
Mr• ROGERS stlys-
But she and gone for ever!!
Na never shall they clasp her—never;
thief ;ntttato nomiye, of he for she, come pretty
much tb the same purpose, though not precisely
to the sane time. We dare not quote lines 68
.
and •they are barely decorous—anti turning
over to the next page, it is there stated as an ac-
complishment of Jacqueline's; and a proof of her
filial affection, thougul she did run away from her
Papa, that before T
She would lead him zebcre he-went,_
Charnt 'with, her converse while he leant, &c. • 7 -
which," .tve presume, ‘vas a great tleatliitiide-t• than
uad led tint where lie did tot p,-sut let