His rankling bosom prejudice distain'd,

And Scotsmen scorn the breast where envy reign'd.'

The last line should have contained a proof of the Doctor's prejudice and illiberality, of which his visit to Scotland furnishes many instances: but, instead of confirming his assertion respecting Dr. Johnson, Mr B. only tells us,-which indeed is nothing to the purpose, that Scotsmen scorn the envious.'

These strictures may suffice to shew Mr. B. that his poem is capable of improvement.

Art 16. Our Country. A Poem. 8vo.

IS. Hatchard. 1804.

By such a subject as that which this poet has chosen, we are disarmed of all the feelings that are supposed to belong to our censorial office, and are induced to welcome the writer with the most perfect good nature: Cari sunt parentes, cari liberi, propinqui, familiares : sed omnis omnium caritats patria una complexa est. He who is not now alive to this noble sentiment of Cicero is altogether unworthy of the privileges and blessings resulting from the British Constitution. To the poet before us, no reproach of this kind belongs. His patriotism burns with a noble brightness; and he has endeavoured, by the effusions of his Muse, to inspire every Briton with reflections and sentiments suitable to the present state and exigencies of our Country. Writing from the heart, and with a true zeal in the important cause in which we are now embarked, his numbers are not destitute of force; and if we occasionally encounter a weak line or a bad rhime, we are made amends by the spirit and animation thrown over the whole.

The consequences which would result from the triumphs of the enemy are detailed in such a manner as to awaken our liveliest sensibilities, and to fix in the bosom of every Briton, if it were not fixed already, the determined resolution of conquering or perishing in the conflict; the determined resolution of not surviving the independence of his country. When France threatens to invade such a land as ours; to blot us from the list of Nations; to deprive us of all that gives dignity to the social state, and renders life valuable; there can , be but one sentiment pervading the community;-the citizen hastens to share each danger of the soldier, and prefers death to that scene of horror which must result from pusillanimity.

The ardor evinced by the volunteers, so honorable and so neces-
sary on the present occasion, is thus described by the poet:
But hark! what notes of glory strike my ear,

Fly through the skies, and cleave the trembling air!
To arms! to arms! ten thousand trumpets sound;
To arms! to arms! the echoing hills rebound:

A million heroes to their banners fly,

Resolv'd to conquer, or prepar'd to die:

High swell their breasts, high beat their generous hearts!
From their bright eyes indignant lustre darts!

Hark, with exulting shouts the valleys ring!

"Conquest or Death, our Country and our King!"

'Twas thus when Xerxes, glorying in his hosts

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Pour'd

Moy.

Pour'd the vain threat, and gave the futile boast;
The sons of Freedom rose in arms sublime,
And chas'd the vaunting tyrant from the clime.
Proceed, illustrious band! the world's applause
Promotes your vigour, and attends your cause.
Proceed and conquer. Though unus'd to wield
The massy sword, and tread th' embattled field;
Yet in your breasts a generous courage glows,
Superior far to what a foeman knows.
No thirst for rapine, and no in desire
Of false renown, your ardent souls inspire:
No! more enlighten'd, more exalted meeds,
Impel you forward to immortal deeds!
Ye go to save your King, your native land,

Your wives, your children, from a treacherous band.
Ye go your holy altars to defend,

From those who know no God, before no altars bend;
Hypocrisy's thin veil to pluck away,

T'expose a monster to the light of day.
Ye go to check profane Ambition's car,
To stay the horrors of incessant war.
Ye

go the nations of the earth to bless

With peace, with freedom, and with happiness.

These are indeed our sons! your sires would say,
Could they revive, and view this glorious day.

And late posterity your praise will sing;

'Twas thus, they'll cry, when virtuous George was King,
Our fathers arm'd, and glorying in their cause,

Preserv'd the throne, their liberty, and laws.

While through their veins a patriot 1apture rolls,
Beams in their eyes, and elevates their souls;

They'll teach their sons to imitate your deed:

For-British laws to fight, for British freedom bleed.'

Though the author sounds the trumpet of war, he is no ferocious spirit with patriotic courage he wishes to combine humanity: and he urges us to shew mercy to the vanquished and captive foe.

Art. 17. Esop's Fables, new versified, from the best English Editions. In Three Parts. By H. Steers, Gent. 8vo. pp. 213. 48. sewed. Harris, &c.

This version is intitled to approbation for the easy and familiar style, in which it is written, though sometimes the rhymes are not so correct as might be wished. The moral of the fable is in general well conducted, and affords either instruction or diversion, and frequently the union of both. We give as a specimen the application of the fable of The Mountains in Labour,' as appropriate to our situation and influence with authors.

Seek you to wield the epic pen,
And paint the feats of mighty men;
Take Homer for your constant guide.
Achilles must be drawn with pride,

Inexorable

Moy.

Inexorable in his

rage,
With valour that might hosts engage:
Ajax of brutal strength be found,
Dealing destruction all around:
Nestor, and wise Ulysses, join'd,
Whose councils sway the regal mind,
In eloquence must still be seen:
Thersites only, base and mean.
In history would you excel,

Great Ammon's worth and Cæsar's tell,
From Livy, Plutarch, take your rules;
Or should you from the modern schools,
Of warlike chiefs, your trophies raise,
Cornwallis, Sidney, claim your praise:
Mourn Riou's lot, and drop the tear
O'er gallant Abercromby's bier.'

The volume is dedicated to the Earl of Carlisle.

Man? Art. 18. Great Cry and Little Wool; or the Squads in an Uproar 3 or the Progress of Politics; or Epistles, poetical and picturesque. Written by Toby Scout, Esq. a Member of the Opposition; and edited by Peter Pindar, Esq. Parts 1. and II. 4to. 16. 6d. each. Walker.

A lady, on being asked by Dr. Parr her opinion of his famous Spital sermon, instantly gave it by repeating the first words of the sermon itself," Enough there is, and more than enough." In like manner, if we were called to decide on the merit of this satirical lucubration, we should repeat the first line of the title-Great cry and Little Wool. The satirist, of all other writers, should take care,

Ne

Peccet ad extremum ridendus, et ilia ducat.

We feel for squire P. P. who has afforded us so much genuine enter tainment; and if we now take the honest freedom of telling him that Pindarus dormitat, it is not with a view to discourage him, but to prevent his thinking (which every writer is apt to do when his reputation is up,) that any thing from his pen will be acceptable. Courts, favourites, ministers, and the panders of power and state-intrigue, are regarded as fair subjects of satire; and those who cannot obtain high stations have a gratification in laughing at those who fill them. To this modern Aretine,

"Satire is no more difficile

Than to a blackbird 'tis to whistle;"

and the expectations, which were raised in certain individuals by the illness of the King, are ridiculed much after P. P's old manner, in the first part: but when, in the second part, he follows Mr. Pitt into his late retirement (or supposed retirement) from state intrigue, to the humble study of military tactics; when he attempts to involve the Minister in derision by telling us that his feats as a soldier consisted in

⚫ killing a ram cat, attacking a dung hill, taking a bog-house by storm, stabbing an old sow, putting a score of oxen to rout, rending the stump of a tree, and cutting off the head of a mushroom.' we try in vain to laugh, and we only perceive that to be absurd is not always to be witty.

P. P. deals about his love and his hatred, his compliments and his sarcasms with a liberal hand. One of the Epistles is devoted to the subject of the Pss of W6, and the stanzas are elegant and flattering. As the prime part of this production, we shall extract the Epistle entire for the gratification of our readers:

OFRIENDSHIP, thy sighs I revere !

Sweet balm on the heart that has bled!
O LOVE, what a treasure thy tear!
A rich pearl on the tomb of the dead.
How d'ye relish this flight? rather rare,
And sublime for the lead of these days!
And now let me talk of a FAIR,

Sweet object of pity and praise.

TO BLACKHEATH when the messenger came,
And announc'd the small hopes of a cure,
He expected a smile from the DAME,
With a purse for his news, to be sure.

When she put her white hand to her pocket,
He thought some rare gift would appear.
Ah! her handkerchief only !-She took it,
SWEET MOURNER, to hold a fond tear;
· A tear to which FRIENDSHIP gave birth,

And Love, of the PASSIONS the QUEEN;
Pure pearl! had it dropp'd to the earth,
In treasure how rich it had been !
When he said that the LITTLE and GREAT,
That KINGS, like their subjects must die;
She look'd up with a visage so sweet,
Bade farewell, with so tender a sigh!

Her fate is uncommonly cruel

Yet a lustre she casts on her race-
By the LORD, COUSIN NIC, she's a jewel,
And her heart is as fair as her face.

But SCANDAL has always her mud,
At MERIT, poor MERIT, to throw;

Of ink has for ever a flood,

To blacken a bosom of snow!

Sweet STRANGER! from splendor withdrawn,
On Wisdom and Charity bent,

TO HEALTH, and the breeze of the lawn,
To the cottage of PEACE and CONTENT.

• COUSIN

COUSIN NIC, with the subject I'm fir'd

Yes! I've really drunk deep of the stream;
Yet a Goose must be really inspir'd,

When the VIRTUES and LOVES are the theme.'

P. P. by profession is a satirist, but his forte is the soft and pathetic.

Mo-y. Art. 19. An instructive Epistle to John Perring, Esq. Lord Mayor of London; or the Proposal of an Address of Thanks to the Right Hon. Henry Addington, for his great and upright Conduct when Prime Minister. By Peter Pindar, Esq. 4to. IS. Walker. Mr. Addington would not be displeased with such an Address as P. P. has prepared; for while it neatly compliments him, it finishes with a sting in its tail against those who have succeeded him in office. Perring and Peter being both Devonshire men, the poet concisely sketches and contrasts their respective destinies :

If P. P. should suspect that our diminished civility to his verse may be a source of disappointment, we hope that it will be sterling disappointment; which will give him good interest in his future intercourse with the Muse.

Art. 20. Il Fiore della Poesia Italiana, &c. i. e. A choice Collection of Italian Poetry of the 18th Century, to which are prefixed some Historical Notices of the Poets, whose Writings compose it. The whole selected and compiled by G. B. Cassano, Professor of Languages and Italian Literature. 2 Vols. 12mo. 10s. 6d. Boards. Dulau and Co.

Among the various departments of literary traffic which have been earried to an unreasonable extent, is that of cutting the production of eminent writers to pieces, and serving up the garbled morsels under the title of Flowers, Anthologies, Spirit, Beauties, Selections, Extracts, &c.; and this species of book manufactory is least of all pardonable, when exercised on obscure or uninteresting materials. Taste and judgment are alike requisite to enable us to cull with profit and discernment from the multiplied store of literature and science. The object of the present collection is perhaps too limited to afford much gratification to the accomplished votaries of the muses. During the last century, Italy was not fertile in poets of the first order. She

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boasts