The Sun.
London, England, 1826-09-29 00:00:00

flfl

PRICE 7D.

LITERATURE.

POETICAL SKETCHES, &c. ; by At4ate A. Warts.
We have been induced to notice this little book
from the modest and unobtrusive nature of its contents.
While stimulants in every —especially the more ima-
ginative—department of literature are unspatingly.adopt-
ed ; it is delightful to meet with an author who trust-
ing to feeling as his oracle, comes forward with a 'vo-
lume of artless, impassioned, and healthful poetry.
Mr. Alaric Watts, though he appears to have model-
led his style of thought upon the school of Words-
worth, (whom he has evidently studied with the en-
thusiasm of a kindred genius) has yet paid an almost
equal attention to the rapid, vigorous, and concentrated
versification of 'Byron ; so that blending the,. matter
of one, with the manner of the other ; thinking like
Wordsworth, and expressing himself like Byron, no
wonder that he has produced a volume calculated for
lasting admiration. There is scarcely, indeed, in
the whole compass of our modern poetry, a work
of richer promise than these " Sketches ;" it is
not that they are dyed all over with the deep
glowing tints of a versatile fancy, or fraught with a
certain restlessness of thought—the necessary co Ripa-
thon of the poetic temperament ;—these, though suf-
ficient, perhaps, for the purposes of a sober notoriety,
would scarcely have fixed them in the high situation
which they now hold among works of the imagination,
but for the perfect downright sincerity that breathes
through them. Mr. Watts has adopted no popular
or impressive themes to ensnare the better judgment of
his readers—he has fought no battles, and murdered
no bravos in his pages—all is quiet and unassuming,
and calculated not so much to take the heart by storm
and shock it into astonithment or passion ; as to win
its way to the feelings, noiselessly, and almost imper-
ceptibly, like the stealing course of some summer rivu-
let. In the poetry of the present day—however elo-
qoent,,and sometimes even impressive in its character
—there is too much of generality, and too little of in-
dividual feeling. Nothing is easier than to complain
of a broken heart or wounded sensibility (even Mr.
JohnWilks, junior, of bubble notoriety, can do this, and
poetically too), these are matters of course ; it isin fact
taken for granted, that the hearts--as well as the heads—
of such versifiers shouldbe cracked ; but to impress the
mind of the reader with a strong sense of individual
suffering and melancholy in the writer " hic labor hoc
opus est." All this, and more than this, Mr. Watts
has successfully accomplished, and convinced us, did
we need additional proof, that genuine sensibility is
only to be found the nearer it approaches to the sim-
plicity of nature. In making our selection from Mr.
Watts's pages, we shall commence—as its importance
deserves—with a sketch of Mount Blanc, as beheld born
the valley of Chamouni. The poem is as sublime as
its subject :

CHAMOTJNI.—A SKETCH ON THE SPOT.
The lips that may forget God in the crowd,
Cannot forget him here, where he has built
For his own glory in the wiIderness.—WOHDSWORTII.
'Tie night ;—and Silence with unmoving wings
Broods o'er the sleeping waters;—not a sound
Breaks its most breathless hush. The sweet moon flings
Her pallid lustre on the hills around,
Turning the snows and ices that have crowned—
Since chaos reigned—each vast and searchlees height,
To beryl, pearl, and silver;—whilst, profound,
In the still, wavelese lake, reflected bright,
And, girt with arrowy rays, rests her full orb of light.
The eternal mountains momently are peering
Through the blue clouds that mantle them ; on high
Their glittering crests majestically rearing,
More like to children of the infinite sky,
Than of the daulal earth. Triumphantly,
Prince of the whirlwind ! Monarch of the scent !
Mightiest where all are mighty !—from the eye
Of mortal man half hidden by'the screen
Of mists that moat his base from Arve's dark, deep ravine,
Stands the magnificent Montblanc ! His brow
Scarred with ten thousand thunders,—most sublime,
Even as though risen from the world below
To mark the progress of Decay: by clime,
Storm, blight, fire, earthquake injured not ! Like Time,
Stern chronicler of centuries gone by,
Doomed by a heavenly fiat still to climb,
Swell and increase with years incessantly,
Then yield at length to thee, most dread Eternity !
Hark! There are sounds of tumult and Commotion
Hurtling in. murmurs on the distant air _
Like the wild music of a wind-lashed ocean,
They rage, they gather now !—Yon valley fair
Still sleeps in moonlight loveliness, but there
Methinks a form of horror I behold
With giant-stride descending! 'Ti: Despair,
Riding the rushing avalanche ; now rolled
From its tall cliff,—by whom—what mortal may unfold ?
Perchance a gale from fervid Italy
Startled the air-hung thunderer ; or the tone
Breathed from some hunter's horn ; or, it may be,
The echoes of the mountain cataract, tin-own
Amid its voiceful snows, have thus called down
The overwhelming ruin on the vale.
Howbeit a mystery to man unknown,
'Twas but some Heaven-sent power that did hrevail
For an inscrutable end, its slumbers to snail.

Madly it bursts along,—even as a river
That gathers strength in its most tierce career;
The black and lofty pines a moment quiver
Before its breath, but as it draws more near,
Crash—and era seen no more! Fleet-litoted Fear,
Pale as that'white-robed minister of wrath,
In silent wildirment her face (loth rear ;
• And baring gazed upon its blight and scathe.
' Flies with the swift Chamois from its death dooming path.
The idea marked in italics reminds us of a aimilar
is),
Tdheescr,i,bvvedakblyn,gthDe
one is Collins—whom, by the bye, Mr. Watts, in his!
rPa6meat,""thoughaskijetch
resembles—of f ( e.ar we
Melancholy moments
~ '
. throwing nn-
self on the ‘, ridgy steep of some Toole hanging rock
to slee."
is highly. Miltonic in its syle. of versification , ' a'style'
more
ek
it
rather unusual with Mr. Watts )vho 'thing but
. . is any but
ambitious, either in the manner or matter of his
)Etna" i
poetry. " S another elaborate and
luxuriant,
composition, and so also is the ~ Broken
Heart"
which, in addition to the
charms of stle h the Still
higher one—to which we • ' as
_ just now all
uded f deed
—o
inaividual. melanchol
y. With these e • arks'
cursory rem
we take our leave of Mr. Watts, remising that ii; as
report says, he be preparing another vol um of oeiti,,
similar in beauty and Lustre v, ,
bilail
the resent ' r"
eto p ,
hail their appearance -
with unequivocal satisfaction-

(From the Liverpool Courier of Wednesday.)
This morning the brig Monarch, Captain Mondell,
arrived here. It will be recollected, that this vessel was
taken by the Brazilian squadron some time ago, for at-
tempting to violate the blockade of Buenos Ayres. The
following is an account of the manner in which Captain
Mondell succeeded in regaining possession of his vessel.—
It appears, that after being condemned at Monte Video,
eprae-master and twenty-five men, seven of whom were
soldiers, were put on board the Monarch, for the purpose
of navigating her to Rio. • Previously, however, to sailing
from Monte Video, Captain Mondell had succeeded in se-
creting some arms under the bed of the mate, who, with
his cook, had been left on board the brig. iThen within
about 200 miles of Rio, Captain Mondell commenced
putting in practice his plan for the recovery of the vessel,
and having, with the assistance of the mate and cook, suc-
ceeded in overpowering the prize-master and the watch at
that time upon deck, he, by threats, obliged him to call up
the hands from below, singly; and as each man came up,
he was seized by Captain Mondell and delivered to the
coohuk,s taken
wlipinioned and fastened him to the
by surprise, scarcely any resistance
bmwoaal
stt e-
roffered,ina gn d
s T .
with the exception: of one black, who appeared
very loth to surrender without . some fighting. The
Brazilians being all secured, Captain Mondell was anxious
to dispose of them as quickly as imitable; but as their
number was too great to render it safe to trust them in a
boat with their hands at liberty, unless at a considerable
distance from the brig, Captain Mondell taik the precau-
tion of placing the long-boat in slings, and into`. this, after
putting on board a stock of provisions, a compass, and
their clothes, he put the Brazilians, their arms being still
pinioned, with the exception of one. The boat was then
lowered into the -water' and the remaining seamen was
put on board, with his hands at liberty, and a ..knife, for
the purpose of setting his comrades at liberty. By this
means sufficient time was allowed for the Monarch to
gain such a distance from the boat as to render vain any
attempt on the pert a the Brazilians to re-capture
Two of the Brazilians, one of whom is an officer, volun-
teered to come with Captain Mondell; and with these two,
and his mate and cook, he has succeeded in bringing the
vessel safe into this port.
The brig Stag, one of the British vessels seized by the
Brazilians, sailed from Monte Video two days before the
Monarch. Captain Mondell is of opinion that Captain
Lashley would try to re-capture her.. a•