Subtle, but who, with better luck than the housekeeper in the play,
marries the old gentleman, and after an odd adventure at a masquerade,
buries him in the Abbey Church, Bath. It is pleasantly told, and there
are in it many genuine touches of humour. Miss Mitford has next Little
Miss Wren, a beautiful trifle for old and young; and last is the Count
of Trionto, as deep a piece of Italian romance as need accompany one of
Mr. Martin's designs.

The poetical pieces, which are numerous, are of a less lugubrious cast
than usual. Mr. Kenney, the playwright, has a rustic plaint:

Dear Tom, my brave free-hearted lad,
Where'er you go, God bless you!
You'd better speak than wish you had,
If love for me distress you.
To me they say, your thoughts incline,
And possibly they may so;
Then, once for all, to quiet mine,
Tom, if you love me, say so.


--All this is mighty pleasant for a plaint, and just such as Mr. Kenney
would write on one of the garden-seats of the Tuileries, or in the
green-room of the little theatre in the Haymarket. The lines on a young
collegian and his "dearest Lily," are equally playful:

Farewell to the hound and the cover,
Farewell to the heath and the glen!
But when _Term_ and the _Little-go's_ over,
He'll be with you, dear Lily again.