Thy foul's quick sense of injury I know,
It's eager warmth to meet the boldest foe;
Strait wouldst thou, hurried by the dire alarm,
Devote the flanderer to thy manly arm-

"Draw, fcoundrel; 'tis an injured father's call—”
-My foul would triumph fhould the villain fall.

Envy not, foolish man, the pomp of kings;
For little freedom from their station springs;
Few private joys the greatest fovereign crown;
His ease the price he pays for high renown.
In a free country that mistakes it's fame,
Where impudence, and freedom are the fame ;
Say, muft it's monarch only from his mind
Root out the common feelings of mankind;
A mother's wrongs without emotion bear,
Child of her pangs, chief object of her care?
No fure; unerring nature takes his part;

And for his king bleeds every loyal heart.'

It frequently happens, after an author has exhausted his fire against perfons who are the immediate objects of his fatire, that he embraces the firft opportunity of bestowing a laudable portion of praife on the first worthy character that ftrikes his imagination.-Dr. Johnfon is complimented by this writer in the higheft ftrains of panegyrick; and we hope the reader will think with him, that the doctor is

-a nobly fingular, immortal man!

Whom nought could e'er divert from virtue's plan.' 14. The Poetical Retrofpect, or the Year MDCCLXIX. A Poem 4to. Pr. 25. S. Noble.

This Retrospect is any thing but poetical; it hardly deferves the name of a news-paper verfified. As a proof that our cenfure is not too fevere, take the beginning, where, if at any time, the poet, especially a young one, must be fuppofed to have exerted himself.

Aflift me ye Mufes, prefide o'er the verfe,
Nor blast a young poet's attempts to rehearse
The various events of the year fixty-nine,
Events well deferving in numbers to shine.
For tho' the loud trumpet of Mars did not found,
Nor the thunder of cannon were heard to rebound,
Tho' Britain was favour'd with Peace in her ifle,
And Plenty diffus'd her rich ftores with a fmile;
Tho' in fhort, ev'ry circumftance join'd in the state,
To preclude, in appearance, all matters of weight;
Yet, if we minutely examine the year,

We fhall find great tranfactions of moment appear;

Of

Of confequence greater than usually found,
When a nation's with peace and fecurity crown'd:
For whether the Fates with ftern malice poffefs'd,
Difpleas'd to fee England fo happily bless'd,
Or whether all nations, like mortals, enjoy
No happiness long without bitter alloy :
From what fource foever the evil arofe,

Great mifchiefs this year did the land difcompofe.'

15. Poems, by John Gerrard, Curate of Withycombe in the Moor, Devon. 410. Pr. 5s. Kearfly.

This gentleman 'prefents his works to the public with a laudable diffidence. Conscious, he fays, of their defects, he expeas not the voice of the impartial, and therefore only prefumes to folicit the candid, and befpeak fome allowance for the forward attempts of inexperienced years, and unmellowed judgment.'

Every perfon may undoubtedly be allowed to plead inexperience as an apology for deficiencies in the productions of his youth but inexperience is no excufe for publication. It is, on the contrary, a very substantial reason why he should keep his writings in his own poffeffion til: his judgment is fufficiently improved. Let him remember the advice of Horace.

Nonum prematur in annum

Membranis intus pofitis: delere licebit

Quod non edideris nefcit vox miffa reverti.

Whoever finds in himself an invincible inclination to fcribble, ought to have these excellent lines infcribed in capitals on his defk, or in fome confpicuous part of his ftudy; and this falutary memento might fave him the trouble of fome inward mortification, and unavailing repentance.

We would not be thought to apply these remarks to the author of his collection of poems. Mr. Gerrard we hope, will have no reason to regret his temerity. His poems may be allowed to ftand on the fame shelf with fome of the beft of his cotemporary bards.

This collection confifts of paftorals, elegies, odes, fonnets, epiftles, and other little pieces, which a poet of a tolerable genius might be fuppofed to write extempore.

16. A Turkish Tale. In five Cantos. 8vo. Pr. Is. Becket.

This Turkish Tale, as it is called, is neither more nor lefs than the facred hiftory of the fall of man verfified, with the addition of a new and imaginary character, upon whom the chief part of the catastrophe turns. Inftead of one, our poet fuppofes two females to have been originally created, Eve, and Vixen her fervant; for the neceffity of whofe creation, our poet accounts in the following manner :

• The

• The pair created, for Eve's aid
God next produc'd a waiting-maid.
I know there are who ftill believe
There was no woman elfe but Eve;
But if you'll truft my ancient tale
Reafon and truth muft foon prevail.
How could the unexperienc'd fair
Comb out her lovely flowing hair?
Unpractis'd quite in worldly ways,
Unaided, could fhe lace her ftays?
Could the adjust her morning gown,
Or even tye her apron on ?
Impoffible, it could not be !

The ladies muft in this agree.'

As Eve was formed of nature's choiceft ftores, fo Vixen was compofed of the coarfeft mould, and the devil foon got poffeffion of her; of courfe fhe was a very mischievous huffey.

Eve complained to Adam, who rates Vixen roundly, and threatens to turn her out of Paradife, if fhe did not mend her manners. But this was far from her thoughts; on the contrary, the enters into a compact with the ferpent, who fhews her the forbidden fruit, which is fuppofed to be the grape, inftead of the apple, and to have the power of intoxication. The ferpent advises her to take three bunches, to give two to Adam, and reserve the third for herself. She fucceeds; and Adam being intoxicated, miftakes Vixen for Eve, and paffes the night in her arms. Poor Eve is in great diftress at the abfence of Adam; but meets him next day, when he informs her of his crime, and that he is now mortal, while fhe is still immortal. Eve, overcome by love, rather than part with Adam, eats the forbidden fruit alfo. They are driven out of Paradife; Mrs. Vixen wanders to the land of Nod, where fle is delivered of a daughter, who is afterwards married to Cain. The poem concludes in the following manner.

• From these two diff'rent fources flow,
The diff'rent tempers here below:
The bad derive their kindred blood
From Vixen; and from Eve, the good.
As from beneath fome fhaggy hill,
Two fprings of various kind diftill;
The one a healthful limpid ftream,
The other dark, of pois'nous steam,
While oft meand'ring thro' the plain,
They join, and difunite again,
And as in pool, or lake they meet,
The water naufeous grown, or sweet,

Re

Refreshes, or the health affails,
As one or t'other's force prevails.
So ftreaming thro' life's purple tide,
Virtue and Vice the fex divide;
And each, tho' blended oft and mix'd,
Becomes in ev'ry bosom fix'd,
According as their deeds proclaim

The origin from whence they came.'

Such is the plan of the Turkish Tale. The reader will perceive the verfification to be fmooth and polished, but not to have attained the force and fpirit of Swift or Prior, which is hardly now to be expected in the prefent old age, or rather dotage, of poetry. We only beg leave to fuggeft our doubts how far it is proper in a Chriftian country to handle a facred fubje&t, the foundation of our holy religion, in a lu dicrous manner.

17. A Word to the Wife. A poetical Farce, moft refpectfully addreffed to the Critical Reviewers. By T. Underwood, late of St. Peter's College, Cambridge. 8vo. Pr. 1. Noteman. Could we find any thing finart or poignant, or indeed the leaft indication of genius, in this production, we should very readily allow the author all the commendation he could reafonably defire: for no invectives fhall ever prevent us from giving to merit its proper tribute of applaufe. We are not af fected by the petulance of difappointed writers. We expect to be reviled by thofe, whofe productions we have been obliged to condemn. But in the prefent cafe, it is not in our power to fay any thing in favour of the author of this Poetical Farce. There is through the whole hardly one ftricture which is juft, or properly applied. His performance is verfification without poetry, and malevolence without wit.

18. A Dialogue of the Dead: betwixt Lord Eglinton and Mungo Campbell. 8vo. Pr. 1. Murray.

founded, is too well There have been few

The ftory on which this dialogue is known to have any thing faid of it here. more tragical events that have happened at any period. The unfortunate nobleman was no doubt a perfon of great merit, a lover of liberty and the conftitution; but perhaps too fond of a ftrict execution of the game-laws, an infringement of which will never be thought criminal in the eyes of men. The man by whofe hands he fell, feems to have been of a fierce and refolute fpirit, impatient of affront and indignity; perhaps the more fo, on account of the low ftation of life into which he was thrown. His exit was fuitable to his principles and character.

In all probability he would not have been condemned in this country. The one deferved a better fate, and the other a better fortune.

Lucian, the great father of humour, was likewife the inventor of this fpecies of compofition (dialogues of the dead) in which he has been moft fuccefsfully imitated among the mo derns, by Fontenelle and lord Lyttleton. Though we do not altogether condemn the execution of this piece, yet we appre hend it does not come up to the idea that should be formed of fuch a compofition. The author makes the two speakers retain, in the lower regions, the one all his haughtiness, and the other all his ferocity; nay, he seems to represent the characteriftic difpofition of each perhaps in ftronger colours than either difplayed it whilft alive. We cannot help thinking it would have been more natural, as well as more agreeable to our notions of the temper of men's minds, when they arrive at their state of eternal and unchangeable existence, to have drawn them converfing with more calmness; and to have represented them as feeing things in another light, and each repenting of that paffion which brought him to his untimely end. This at leaft would have conveyed a finer moral. That we are well warranted in our obfervation, will appear from the opening of the dialogue, fubjoined as a fpecimen of the whole.

Eglinton. Ha! Campbell!

• Campbell. You have nothing to fear, my lord, because it is not now in your power to do me an injury.

Eglinton. Infolent! I hope you died like a dog.

Campbell. No, my lord, I died like a man.

Eglinton. Surely, they hanged you.

Campbell, No.

Eglinton. Villains! Are there no reprisals for the lofs of

Campbell. Would there were !

Eglinton. How!

Campbell. The court that condemned me would in a fhort time honour us with their company.

Eglinton. So! It is very well, ftill-They took your fcoundrel life.

Campbell. No, my lord, I lived free, and died fo. The life they would have taken from me was my property, unforfeited, but by the defence of another fpecies of property, of which the laws and nature of society made me equally the mafter. That property, my lord, I would not give up to youMy life I would not refign to them-I died by my own hand. Eglinton. Confummate knave! He has cheated even the gallows.'

To the dialogue is annexed an abstract of the evidence and pleadings at the trial.