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enough to purchase his copyright) albeit scrupulous of polluting our « why then, as I cannot hope for pages with mere insipid dullness, we many purchasers: they who do buy will exhibit a specimen or two. shall make up for those who do not.” How sweetly sir John warbles his Very well. Thank heaven, we have elegiack strains let the following not to sigh over the loss of half a declare: guinea, and we pity those who have. It is nothing less than a literary
“With horrour dumb, tho' guiltless, stood
Beside his dying friend, fraud to print a volume as this is
The hapless wretch who made the blood printed, many of its pages containing
Sad from his side descend !!! nothing more than what the author facetiously pleases to call an epi. "Give me thy hand; loved friend, adieu !" gram, of two lines! Perhaps our The generous sufferer cried ! knight hopes to soften the reader's 'I do forgive and bless the too;'
And having said it, died !!, indignation by the display of his own face as a frontispiece. We will ho- And Pity, who stood trembling near, nestly confess that his countenance Knew not for which to shed, is an accurate index of what the con So claimed by both, her saddest teartents of the volume must be.
The living or the dead !" Our next objection is, of course, to these contents. They are
Sir John has a charming felicity various in their nature as can be
in writing what he calls epigrams engendered by vanity upon folly: and impromptus. Ex. Gr. by vanity that thinks itself equal to
« EPIGRAM all, and folly that proves itself unequal to any. Sir John's muse is On the Author and Eliza frequently differ
ing in Opinion. like a train of gun-powder: it takes To such extremes were I and BET fire at every thing. If a lady wears Perpetually driven, a muslin veil, he tells her immedi We quarreled every time we met, ately, that “ little stars," meaning
To kiss and be forgiven." her eyes, were never made to shine
“ EP'IGRAM, through “misty skies,” meaning her veil. [p. 64) If he sees a fool in Upon seeing the dilapidated state of Bethlem
Hospital. a corner holding a broom (we do Well with the purpose does the place agree; not mean to say that sir John writes for even the very house is cracked, you with a looking glass before him) 'his
see.” muse tells us that his broom is « his wife, his child, his prize,” (p. 331 in reply to a Lady, who asked the Author
"IMPROMPTU, thus ingeniously connecting, at once,
what Childhood resembled. matrimony and the “ lucky lottery How like is childhood to the lucid tide office," and conveying a delicate
That calmly wanders through the mossy intimation that marriage is a prize. dell, If a lady wears a diamond cross up. Sweeps o'er the lilly by the margin's side, on her bosom, he is so enraptured,
And, as it kisses, murmurs out, Fare
well!” that his muse ambles through eight lines without any meaning at all.
“EPIGRAM, [p. 29] Nothing can escape him.
On the grave of Robespierre. No, not even Bedlam; for the sight Nay, passenger, don't mourn his lot; of its dilapidated walls reminds him if he had liv’d, why you had not." of a “cracked head," and at that moment a strange, unaccountable
“ EPIGRAM, sympathy suggested to him that his On winning a young Lady's Money at own might be prefixed to the present How fairly Fortune all her gifts imparts;
Cards. volume. Such and so various are the
We win your money, Ann, and you our topicks of this volume: and now,
* JÉU D'ESPRIT,
Of course, no maiden would like a Upon a very pretty Woman asking the Author ghost for a husband, so she his Opinion of Beauty,
“Sent forth a hideous shriek, and died !" Madam! you ask what marks for beauty pass:
And then comes the moral, which is: Require them rather from your looking
Fright not fond youths the timed fair;" glass !"
ends the story of Paul and Our readers should be informed
Rebecca. that each of these epigrams occupies We have often heard, that a poet's a page to itself! Whether this be
visions are very unlike those of comdone as illustrative of their own
mon men; and it must be so; for sir emptiness; or whether, from a high John has seen, mirabile dictu ! the sea and proud belief on the part of the « in a flutter.” (p. 50] How pleasant author, that even his own poetry it is to observe great things compared placed in juxtaposition with such with small: and what a lively image bright and dazzling irradiations of wit a cockney must have of the ocean, if would but obscure their glory, it is he has ever seen his own mother in not for us to decide. Certain it is, a flutter at the unexpected arrival of that they stand alone: and so stand
a guest to dinner just as the family ing, they remind us of a pig in a were sitting down to suet dumplings flower garden; more conspicuous in and sugar sauce. It is this happy art their deformity from their singleness. of illustrating the vast which bespeaks
At p. 14, there is a story of a cer the true poet. But sir John abounds tain maiden called Rebecca, who, as in these felicities of diction. At was very natural to maidens, and very p. 2, he tries to rear a feeling" in much like all young maidens, wished the mind of a nymph: at p. 5, 6 every to know who her husband was to be. bosom thrills colder than marble;' What did she do to find it out ?
at p. 6, the moon is converted into a Why
lamplighter, for she “trims up her
waning lamp:” p. 101, the night“ Rebecca heard the gossips say,
ingale is called a “dark warbling • Alone from dusk till midnight stay
bird;" but whether the author means Within the church porch drear and dark, Upon the vigil of St. Mark,
to say that she warbles in the dark And, lovely maiden you shall see
when the moon shines (for the first What youth your husband is to be." line says that this luminary “be
spangled the murmuring wave") or Well, she did so. And what happen- whether he would express a very ed? Oh! something very horrible. singular, but no doubt a poetick idea, What was it? Patience, and you shall that she sings dark, is really beyond hear. There was a roguish scout," our comprehension. At p. 209, sir ycleped Paul, who slyly guessed what John indulges his philological erudishe was going to do at « St. Stephen's tion with the use of “captivations." church;" so, when poor Rebecca had Thus far we have done due ho. stood till midnight, and had under
nour to sir John's language: let us gone a reasonable quantity of “ wild
now consider his sentiments. He fears,” « cold blood,”.." fast pulses,". wanted to picture a lady's modesty and had heard a sufficient number of and beauty. What did he do? Read “screech owls” and “ bats," Mister and learn: Paul dressed like a ghost, “all so grin," did rise up from a grave “I looked the fragrant garden round
For what I thought would picture best “unlucky knave," and Thy beauty and thy modesty; cried,
A lilly and a rose I found, “ Fair maiden come with me, With kisses on their leaves imprest, For I your bridegroom am to be."
I send the beauteous pair to thee"
N.B. These occupy a page to
Some encomiastick lines to themselves!
young lady begin thus: He saw a fool in a cottage. It was
“Oh formed to prompt the smile or tear, a tempting subject, and down he sat
At once so sweet and so severe.” to write as follows:
But the following is in sir John's “LINES Written in a Cottage by the seaside (in happiest vein of humour: which the author had taken Shelter during
“LINES, a violent Storm) upon seeing an idiotick Youth, seated in the Chimney corner, ca Written en badinage, after visiting a Paper ressing a Broom.
Mill near Tunbridge Wells, in consequence 'Twas on a night of wildest storms,
of the lovely Miss W, who excels in When loudly roared the raving main, Drawing, requesting the Author to describe When dark clouds showed their shapeless the Process of making Paper, in Verse. forms,
Reader ! I do not wish to brag; And hail beat hard the cottage pane, But, to display Eliza's skill,
I'd proudly be the vilest rag Tom Fool sat by the chimney side,
That ever went to paper-mill. With open mouth and staring eyes; A battered broom was all his pride, Content in pieces to be cut; It was his wife, his child, his prize? Though sultry were the summer skies,
Pleased between flannel I'd be put,
And after bathed in jellied size.
Though to be squeezed and hanged I hate, And still he laughs the hours away. For thee, sweet girl ! upon my word,
When the stout press had forced me flat, Alas ! I could not stop the sigh,
P'd be suspended on a cord;
And then, when dried and fit for use,
Eliza ! I would pray to thee,
If with thy pen thou would'st amuse, God bless thee, thoughtless soul! I cried; That thou would'st deign to write on me.
Yet are thy wants but very few: The world's hard scenes thou ne'er hast Gad's bud ! how pleasant it would prove tried;
Her pretty chit-chat to convey, Its cares and crimes to thee are new.
Perhaps be the record of her love,
Told in some coy, enchanting way. The hoary hag," who crossed thee so,
Did not unkindly vex thy brain; Or, if her pencil she would try, Indeed she could not be thy foe,
On me, oh! may she still imprint To snatch thee thus from grief and pain. Those forms that fix th' admiring eye,
Each graceful line, each glowing tint. Deceit shall never wring thy heart,
And baffled hope awake no sighs; - Then shall I reason have to brag,
Become a treasure rarely known.”
There is more than jest in this; 'Till Fate shall bid thy reason bloom In blissful scenes of brighter day."
and our knight has had proofs of
being “cut up," both in literary and After all, here was a subject other courts. At p: 94, he presents which a mind possessing true ge us with a translation of a German nius, might have made something of song, from which we easily gather It is sir John's praise, that he can that he does not know the language. make nothing of any thing.
The following lines,
* It is generally believed by the peasants of Devonshire, that idiotcy is produced by the influence of a witch.
Und wüsten wir, wo jemand traurig läge, him are acquainted with that; for Wir gäben ihm den wein, *
his epigraph, it is as follows: he translates, with spirited elegance, Non ulla Musis pagina gratior, which deserves admiration, thus, Quam quæ severis ludicra jungere
Novit, fatigatamque nugis If any one is mournful found,
Utilibus recreare mentem, One sip shall make bim dance!!! p. 94.
And for his preface, it plainly shows, We have three reasons for be- that he thinks the present volume lieving that sir John will consider us something very good. It is written as having unfairly treated him: and with rank affectation of timidity; but heaven defend us from an action at the cloven foot is perceptible. We, law! These reasons are, first, his however, have done what we felt to vanity; secondly, the epigraph to his be our duty; and we have expressed volume; and, thirdly, his preface. our real and unbiassed opinion of For his vanity, all who have read the author and his book.
FROM THE UNIVERSAL MAGAZINE.
THE SONS, OR FAMILY FEUDS. A Tragick Play. In Five Acts. By T. Jones. 1809
THERE is nothing which sur nation to poison herself; so in she prises us more, in the course of our comes, with a cup of poison in one literary function, than that perpetu. hand and a taper in the other, neally recurring phenomenon, an au cessary, we imagine, to light the cup thor pertinaciously writing without to her mouth. But madam Almira one qualification for composition. A is far from greedy, and she is very man who knows nothing of painting, anxious to share this delicious cofnever attempts to present a picture fee cup of arsenick with a friend of to the publick; nor does he, who is hers called Olivia, who, however, ignorant of the gamut, presume to has no partiality to such drams, and, compose an air. But an author is therefore, is not to be found. It was restrained by none of these delica- very allowable, therefore, in Almira cies of mind. They who can, and to drink it all herself, since she they who cannot write, all strive could find no friend to drink with and do their best
her. Who would not do the same? To make as much waste paper as the rest. Before she swallows this delightful
dose, she talks a little to herself; our Mr. Jones, who has heard, we author herein showing his deep presume, of a certain Shakspeare, knowledge of human nature, by thought he could write a play. It making a woman talk, even at the
a most unlucky thought for point of death. Thus she bursts himself, and for us too. That it was forth: unlucky for himself, we have little doubt he will confess when he gets
“Ha! my soul would burst its in his printer's bill: and that it was very confines !-gone! Olivia fled !-Oli!! unlucky for us, need not be told; for Almira is undone.-Two brothers lost we have read his book. One speci- MAYHAP!” men will suffice for a display of Mr. Jones's powers of writing tragedy. Mayhap as how it may be so. But A laciy, called Almira, has an incli. then you should have waited to see,
The literal meaning of these lines is,
“ ånd knew we where one sorrowing lay,
To hin wee'd give some vine."
and not be in such a hurry. Well. After she drinks she exclaims:
“ I faint; my head runs round, My eyes grow dim, and every object fades; Now may the demon of destruction long
“I yield, my heart is clogged: 'Tis over now."
Faith, and it's time we think: but And when the demon catches On it was not all over, for she goes on we shall be glad to meet with Mr. (a woman will talk to the last, if it Jones again. Success to the race. is to nobody but herself:).
FROM THE MONTHLY REVIEW.
Annals of Great Britain, from the Ascension (Accession) of George III. to the Peace
of Amiens. 3 vols. 8vo. 1478. boards. Edinburgh. WE cannot avoid remarking, in disjecta membra of the man of limine, that this work begins with imagination and genius are apparent; the epoch at which a historian, who and if we cannot pronounce that he is solicitous to found his narrative is likely to be distinguished, either on official and genuine documents, for comprehensive knowledge, or would desire to bring it to a close. for profound research, he may pro So long as the recollection of dis.. mise himself success, in a more puted points is fresh in the publick elaborate performance, from the memory, and so long as the principal popular qualifications of animation actors or their immediate descen- and elegance. dants are alive, and liable to be The arrangement of this producaffected, either in feeling or in for- tion is extremely simple, being a tune, by explicit disclosures, it is in narrative, in forty chapters, of the vain to expect that the records of principal events of the present reign, authentick information will be open to the end of 1801; and the chapters ed to the literary investigator. Ac. are not classed into books, although tuated, probably, by this impression, this eventful period appears to us to the author of the present volumes be characterized by circumstances has been led to publish them in the sufficiently distinct to furnish conunambitious shape of Annals, and to spicuous marks for subdivision. forego all claims to the reputation The time preceding the American of a finished history. In adopting war, that war itself, the subsequent this cautious determination, we think interval of peace, and finally, the that he has acted judiciously; but contest with France, might each with satisfaction we add, that in thus have supplied separate heads of disleaning to the negative side, we are cussion, and have presented to the influenced more by the unfitness of philosophick observer the materials the subject for history, on account of of distinct and appropriate reflecits recency, than by an apprehension tions; yet the author has not only of inadequacy on the part of the forborn to attempt these general writer; since, imperfectly as the views, but has even abstained from present design is executed, enough dwelling on any protracted event has been performed to show that the till it was brought to a close. Conauthor, with due pains, would be fining himself strictly to the plan of equal to higher productions. In the « Annals;" he is even accustomed to midst of haste and inaccuracy, the break off his narratiye of a course
* What an amusing thing it must be to see the lady's head describing a circle, and the lady herself running after it!