owing to his own talents, and the fuperior difcipline of the Bri tish troops, which, at length, entirely put the balance of power into his hands, between the contending Soubahs, or Governors of provinces, fubordinate to the empire of Indoftan.

The revolutions related in this narrative, with their leading circumftances, though hardly known in Europe, beyond the India-Companies, difplay as much policy, and ftate intrigue, as employ the political cabinet of European Powers; "though of a different complexion.

The empire of Indoflan, too extensive to preserve its influence over remote and powerful provinces, affords continual opportunities to ambitious Generals, and afpiring Governors, of caballing againft their common Sovereign, and against each other, to elect and maintain independent fovereignties, which keep them all in a fluctuating state of warfare. In which general view, as well as by the particular circumftances attending the revolutions in Bengal, it greatly refembles, and this little hiftory in the reading naturally reminded us of, the empire of Rome in the times of its latter Emperors: when too unwieldy, and too corrupt, to retain its dominions in pofitive fubordination, their Prætors and Lieutenants of provinces, elected themfelves into independencies, and fupplanted each other by the bafeft arts of intrigue, as well as by open violence.

The conduct of Lord Clive is, in thefe Letters, fet in an exalted point of view; and the flourishing ftate to which he reftored the Company's affairs, from the difafter at Calcutta, fufficiently speaks in his favour here; as the particular honours conferred on him by the imperial court of Dehli, and the Lordship of the lands formerly rented by the India Company of the Soubah of Bengal, now conferred on him, fhew the opinion entertained of his management there.

Thefe Letters, in brief, contain much matter to entertain and intereft the Reader, in a part of the world which give them the additional recommendation of novelty.

N

Letters between the Honourable Andrew Erskine and James Borwell, Efq; 38. in boards. Flexney.

M

ESSRS. Erfkine and Bofwell are two juvenile Wi's, who have chofen to exhibit themselves in a little octavo, for the entertainment of the public. This honourable and ingenious duumvirate appear to be Officers in the army; young

1

men, fresh from North Britain, full of blood, full of spirits, and full of fun. Vive la bagatelie is their maxim; and away they fcribble, away they publifh; freely abandoning their names, and their fame, with the fruits of many an idle hour, to the morfure of criticifm, and the mercy of the wide world!

Promifing young Geniufes as they are, we would not, however, difcourage them by any feverity of animadverfion on their light and airy labours. They are pretty fellows in literature; and muft not be roughly dealt with. We fhall, therefore, add only this brief information, for the fatisfaction of our Readers, that the agreeable publication before us confifts of about thirty or forty fprightly Epiftles in profe and verfe, written, perhaps, on purpose to make a book, in order to inform the world, that there are fuch perfons as the Hon. Andrew Erfkine and James Bofwell, Efq; that they are men of wit, and men of letters and that they can amufe themselves and their Readers with an hundred and fifty pages about nothing, as well (no, pardon us, not quite fo well) as the facetious Author of Triftram Shandy. For example, Letter XXX.

"Dear BosWELL,

IT has been faid, that few people fucceed both in poetry and
profe. Homer's profe effay on the Gun-powder-plot, is
reckoned by all Critics inferior to the Iliad; and Warburton's
rhyming fatire on the Methodists, is allowed by all to be fuperior
to his profaical notes on Pope's works. Let it be mine to unite
the excellencies both of profe and verfe in my inimitable epiftles.
From this day, my profe fhall have a fmack of verfe, and my
verfe have a fmack of profe. I'll give you a fpecimen of both-
My fervant addreffes me in thefe words, very often.

The roll is butter'd, and the kettle boil'd,
Your Honour's neweft coat with greafe is foil'd;
In your best breeches glares a mighty hole,.

Your wafh-ball and pomatum, Sir, are ftole.
Your Taylor, Sir, mult payment have,, that's plain,
He call'd to day, and said he'd call again.

There's profaic poetry: now for poetic profe-Univerfal Ge-
nius is a wide and diffused ftream, that waters the country, and
makes it agrecable; 'tis true, it cannot receive fhips of any bur-
then, therefore it is of no folid advantage, yet it is very amufing.
Gondolas and painted barges float upon its furface, the country
Gentleman forms it into ponds, and it is fpouted out of the
mouths of various ftatues; it ftrays through the fineft fields,
and its banks. noutifh the moft blooming flowers. Let me fport
with this ftream of fcience, wind along the vale, and glide through

Ii 3

the

the trees, foam down the mountain, and fparkle in the funny ray; but let me avoid the deep, nor lofe myfelf in the vaft profound, and grant that I may never be pent in the bottom of a dreary cave, or be fo unfortunate as to ftagnate in fome unwholefome marfh. Limited genius is a pump-well, very useful in all the common occurrences of life, the water drawn from it is of fervice to the maids in wafhing their aprons; it boils beef, and it fcours the stairs; it is poured into the tea-kettles of the Ladies, and into the punch-bowls of the Gentlemen.

"Having thus given you, in the most clear and diftinct manner, my fentiments of genius, I proceed to give you my opinion of the ancient and modern Writers; a fubject, you must confefs, very aptly and naturally introduced. I am going to be very ferious, you will trace a refemblance between me and Sir Wil liam Temple, or perhaps David Hume, Efq;

"A modern Writer muft content himself with gleaning a few thoughts here and there, and binding them together, without order or regularity, that the variety may pleafe; the anci ents have reaped the full of the harvest, and killed the nobleft of the game in vain do we beat about the once plenteous fields, the dews are exhaled, no fcent remains. How glorious was the fate of the early Writers! born in the infancy of letters; their task was to reject thoughts more than to feek after them, and to felect out a number, the moft faining, the most striking, and the most fufceptible of ornament. The Poet faw, in his walks every pleafing object of nature undefcribed; his heart danced with the gale, and his fpirits fhone with the invigorating fun, his works breathed nothing but rapture and enthufiafm. Love then spoke with its genuine voice, the breaft was melted down with woe, the whole foul was diffolved into pity with its tender complaints; free from the conceits and quibbles which, fince that time, have rendered the very name of it ridiculous; real paffion heaved the figh; real paffion uttered the most prevailing language. Mufic too reigned in its full force; that foft deluding art, whofe pathetic ftrains fo gently fteal into our very fouls, and involve us in the fweeteft confufion; or whose animating ftrains fire us even to madness: how has the shore of Greece echoed with the wildeft founds; the delicious warblings of the lyre charmed and aftonifhed every ear? The blaze of rhetoric then burft forth; the antients fought not by falfe thoughts, and glittering diction, to captivate the ear, but by manly and energic modes of expreffion, to rule the heart and fway the paffions,

"There, Bofwell, there are periods for you. Did not you imagine that you was reading the Rambler of Mr. Samuel Johnfonts or chat Mr. Thomas Sheridan himself was resounding the

praises

praifes of the antients, and his own art? I fhall now finish this letter without the leaft blaze of rhetoric, and with no very manly or energetic mode of expreffion, affure you, that I am,

Yours fincerely,

ANDREW ERSKINE."

From this fpecimen our Readers will form fome idea of the Honourable Mr. Erikine's manner; and if from thence they venture to guefs at the turn and ftyle of his friendly Correfpondent, James Bofwell, Efq; they will, probably guefs not very wide of the mark. The Gentlemen are kindred Geniuses; as like as the two Sofios in Amphytrion: or, rather, as we mean not a perfonal comparifon, as like as the twin-brothers in poetry, Meffrs. Beaumont and Fletcher, of the laft century.-Propitious be the omen to the jocund pair now prefent! may their friendship remain as inviolable, their fame prove as lafting, and their works make as many volumes, as thofe of the two celebrated Playwrights we have juft named!

Ꮐ

An Ode on St. Cecilia's Day, adapted to the ancient British Music: viz. the Salt-box, the Jews-Harp, the Marrow-bones and Cleavers, the Hum-ftrum or Hurdly-gurdy, c. With an Introduc&c. tion, giving fome Account of thefe truly British Inftruments. By Bonnell Thornton, Efq; 4to. Is. Becker.

TH

HERE is fomething fo peculiar even in the extravagancies of true genius, fomething fo feductive in its wildelt Aights and vagaries, that the fruits of its very diffipation are more efteemed by Readers of tafle, than the most elaborate lucubrations of plodding industry. We have a fingular infance of this in the little feu d' efprit before us, written fome years ago in the genuine fpirit of true English humour, and lately fet to music in as mafterly a ftrain as it was written. It is held, we know, by your double-refined and formal Critics, a kind of violation thus to fport with the fublime and tranfcendent beauties of the fine arts. The Mufes, however, like other modeft Ladies, tho' they blush more, are lefs offended, at a hearty fmack on their ruby lips, given them by a flushed and favourite Lover, than they would be at the formal falute of their quaint Admirers, coldly imprinted on their lilly-white hands. Quaintnefs and formality are almoft infeparable attendants on mediocrity of tafte; while thofe, who cannot do honour to the art they cultivate, by their genius, must shelter the poverty of their genius under the dignity of their art,

What an infult, cry the pedantic Verfifier and conceired Fidler, on the divine Cecilia and her feraphic ftrains! What li 4 a proz

a profanation of the fublime arts of poetry and mufic! to have her facred Odes burlefqued by paltry catches, and the voice of her own-invented organ mimicked by a wretched hurdy-gurdy, or drowned amidst the clattering of a falt-box, or the difcordant clanging of marrow-bones and cleavers! What an indignity to arts and fcience !-Very true, Sirs! Stand up for the honour of your profefion; you have nothing else for it: for, as before obferved, if you are no credit to that, you must make that, if you can, a credit to you. We would not advise you, however, to carry this predilection too far, left the world fhould begin to imagine you to be as much the mere tools and implements of your profeffion, as are your goofe-quills and fiddle-flicks. But, to give our Readers a fpecimen of this humourous performance.

RECITATIVE, accompanied.

The meaner melody we fcorn,

Which vulgar inftruments afford;
Shrill flute, fharp fiddle, bellowing horn,
Rumbling baffoon, or tinkling harpsichord.
AIR, to the Salt-box.

In ftrains more exalted the falt-box shall join,
And clattering, and battering, and clapping combine:
With a rap and a tap while the hollow fide founds,
Up and down leaps the flap, and with rattling rebounds,
RECITATIVE, to the Jews harp.

Strike, frike the foft Judaic harp;
Soft and fharp,

By teeth coercive in firm durance kept,
And lightly by the volant finger fwept.

AIR.

Buzzing twangs the iron lyre,

Shrilly thrilling,

Trembling, trilling,

Whizzing with the wav'ring wire.

AIR. After a grand Symphony accompanied with Marrow bones

and Cleavers.

Hark, how the banging marrow-bones,

Make clanging cleavers ring,

With a ding dong, ding dong,

Ding dong, ding dong,

Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong ding.

Reife your up-lifted arms on high;

In long prolonged tones

Let cleavers found

A merry merry round,

By banging marrow boacs.