Quickly thy penury fteals on every fide, 1. 304. The effect of fcripture is greatly destroyed by its being clothed in fuch kind of poetry; and though we mean not to be fevere on the author, we must offer it as our opinion, that it was no mark of prudence in him to give his effay to the public in fo incorrect and unfinished a ftate. Art. 53. Leith Hill: A Poem. 4to. PP. 44. 2s. 6d. Hookham. 1789. This poet profeffes to fhew his readers the beauties of Leith Hill*, and the furrounding country; and, doubtless, he thought them very clearly pictured in his own eye: but we have ftrained our fight to very little purpose. Every thing is buried in gloom and obfcurity. In other words, we are here prefented with a great deal of pompous and high-founding language, which leaves no diftinct impreffion on our minds. The author talks of the vafty circle formed by Suthrea, the fertile Berrocfire, Severnia with her central plains, &c.; and, while our dull comprehenfion is toiling after him, he springs from earth, or, to use his own language, On contemplation's pow'rful wing upborne, Volition fwift, he seeks the realms above, We readily, however, forgive him for this trip to the ftars, as it gains us fome intelligence which we, otherwife, might not have poffeffed. We were ignorant, till now, of the reason why those everbeaming fires,' inftead of being one great fun, were cut into little ftars. It is, fays he, Left darting fierce infufferable heat, Beyond what mortal bodies may endure, And worlds on worlds in flames celeftial melt.' Art. 54. The Abbey of Ambrefbury: a Poem. Part the Second. By Samuel Birch, Author of Confilia, &c. 4to. pp. 36. 25. Cadell, &c. 1789. Second parts are, generally, the fources of difappointment. In poetry, as in diftillation, the fpirit which paffes off firft, is found to be of a quality much fuperior to that which rifes in the latter part of the procefs. Juftified, however, by long experience, in adopting this comparison, we would not be understood as afferting, that it is applicable in all cafes. To fay the truth, we expected that the poem before us would have flood forth as a fplendid exception to it; but after perufing it, we are compelled to add, that it is not fo much fo as we flattered ourselves it might have proved. Mr. Birch muft forgive us if we offer it as our opinion, that the Second Part of the Abbey of Ambrefbury rather finks; at the fame time, we would not deny it merit, nor withdraw from Mr. B. the praise of an har * Situated in the vicinity of Dorking, in Surrey, and com manding the moft extenfive profpect in England; perhaps [adds the author] in Europe.' monious monious verfifier. The ftory contained in this fecond part, is affecting, and will afford pleasure to many readers; but we could have wished the tale had been more completely told, that more pains had been taken with the pathetic parts, and that fome profaic lines, and faulty rhimes, had been excluded. Driving a name to difpair,' and thought fit approve,' for thought fit to approve, cannot pleafe us; and as to pierc'd and breast, they have not the leaft femblance of rhyme. When now the moon had feal'd the mountain's brow And thed a feeming froft on all below;' is a couplet that, however defective in regard to its rhyme, will be admired; as Mr. Birch has there painted from nature, not from books. Moonlight often produces the appearance of a froft, and yet we do not recollect the poet who has before noticed it. We might poffibly, nevertheless, be mistaken, for our memories will not recall to us all that we have read; but whether we are wrong or not, we will take this opportunity of advifing poets to copy more from nature, and lefs from each other. Art. 55. Poetry, by Camifis. 4to. pp. 50. 35. Evans. 1789. We are quite puzzled with thefe gloomy and diftempered effufions; or, according to the author's expreffion, This fomething nothing can reveal.' We flattered ourselves with feeing fome vigorous fhoot of laurel drinking health' from the placid ftream of Cam or Ifis: but, inftead of this, the author has picked up a withered bough of cypress or owl's ivy;' and, after dragging it through the mud which formerly received the heroes of the Dunciad, prefents it to us as a nofegay. Talking of his miftrefs, Camifis exclaims: If I love her-I'm furely to blame; With a very trifling alteration, we would advise our readers to apply these lines to the book before us: Art. 56. "If they read it-they're furely to blame; If they buy it-they're more to blame ftill." Conway Castle; Verfes to the Memory of the late Earl of Chatham; and the Moon, a Simile. By James White, Efq. 4to. pp. 20. 2s. Dodfley. 1789 Mr. White tells us, that he has used a form of verification to imitate the elegiac measure of the Greeks and Romans. We know not in what the imitation confifts. If he imagines that he has given us alternately hexameter and pentameter lines, he is mistaken. So The beginning of the poem difcovers Conftance, the heroine, only daughter of Harewood's Baron, in a place o'erhung with rocks and frowning with horrid umbrage, in the power of two bloody ruffians; from whom he is refcued by St. GERMAINS and ANSELMO; but what purpose these ruffians had in view in taking her from the castle to this fpot, we are not informed. One line feems to point out their employer; but refpecting the motive, we are ftill in the dark. likewife likewife is he, when he calls his verfification a new-conftructed measure,' and talks of his novelty of metre.' He has brought forward no new verses, but he has ufed old ones injudiciously. The fact is, that of each of his ftanzas, the first and third lines are Alexandrines; the fecond and fourth are the common English heroic verfe, with a fhort fyllable added at the end; thus making each line of eleven fyllables. For instance: Thin vifions fleet athwart, and fudden voices ftrange And Thapes of martial mode their airy files arrange, These are licences of which a good poet avails himself but rarely; a frequent repetition of them would tire, even in poems where the verfes proceed by couplets: but here, where the folemnity of the former line is perpetually at variance with the jingling of the fubfequent one, our difguft is exceffive. The poem to the memory of Lord Chatham, contains fome good lines. The idea of a resemblance between the moon and a fashionable wife, is pleasant enough; but we think it is not quite new. We have fomewhere feen a Latin epigram, which turned on the fame thought. We do not, however, perfectly recollect the lines. Art. 57. The Grove of Fancy. A Poem. 4to. PP. 42. 25. Lo! more than tenfold night around! Hark! the death-bell's iron found! While fick'ning Hope turns pale with fear, She falls! fhe finks! the trembling air Clofes and hides the dreadful WHERE! But when Young paints Heav'n's blissful courts, The fymphonies of choral fkies, From Raphael's golden lyre that rife, And twice ten thoufand gates thrown wide, Enrapt Enrapt I hear! the Heav'n defcry; I hear-and, how I long to die!' The laft line will, probably, affect different readers, in different ways. Art. 58. Matilda, an original Poem, in Seven Cantos. By Mr. Beft. 4to. pp. 52. 2s. 6d. Stalker. 1789. It is a common practice with modern verfifiers, to exclaim against the rage of critics. Mr. Beft joins in the cry; and thus loudly calls on the tuneful Nine: Shield me, oh, fhield me! from the critic's rage.' Happily for him, the emotions which he has excited in us, are very different from thofe of rage; or we fear that the fhy ladies, whofe protection he implores, would afford him but little affiftance. Mr. B. divides his poem into feven cantos. Perhaps he can give some reason, with which we are at prefent unacquainted, why a tale confifting of nothing, though spread through 980 lines, fhould require to be divided into cantos; and why the number of divifions fhould be feven. However this may be, it would be unpardonable in us not to give our readers fome little infight into their contents. In canto ift, we learn how happy Mr. Beft was, When, bleft with thee, oh Lyttelton! I ftray'd, The park's much-fam'd inviting hills befpread!' We are alfo introduced to Matilda, whofe fine-turn'd shape with Medicis might vie;' as the goddefs of Beauty is familiarly termed. We find too that fhe had a father," And he, with caution, watch'd her tender years, That nothing vile fhould taint her young ideas.' But, alas! in the 3d canto, Love comes in, and makes difmal confufion, not with Matilda only, but with our poor poet alfo. • Thou now, alas! mak'ft me, thy votary, pine For fweet Corinda, virtuous and divine!' We pity him, but we must attend to Matilda, who meets with Caftalio just arrived from Italy, Where he had gain'd that ease, that fweet addrefs, Which ever will the cultur'd mind imprefs, Which ever muft o'er pedantry prevail, Tho' it may thunder claffics thick as hail.' We have been in many ftorms, but nothing like this. Mercy on our heads! Claffics, and perhaps Dutch editions! this is pitiless pelting, indeed! But Mr. Beft remarks, in continuation, that • Our All-wife Creator, fure, defign'd We should our manners form as well as mind, Just like his own, and all the faints in heav'n!' And fo Matilda fell in love; Yes, yes, the dear Caftalio! e'er must prove She faid-all nature flood attentive round, And love triumphant, rocks and woods refound.' This reminds us of the Irishman's echo; but let us proceed: In the 4th canto, Matilda has an interview with Caftalio, and in fpite of all her father's inftructions, refolves to elope as foon as night comes. Night comes in the 5th; and the elopement takes place. The good old father fets out in purfuit of his daughter; but Time had filver'd o'er his fcanty hair; A raging fever therefore feiz'd his frame, Nine days he linger'd with the dread disease, The tenth, when midnight darkling fpread it's gloom, With filent ftride grim Death pac'd round the room.' In the 6th canto, after finding that Caftalio had not only betrayed her, But grew quite cold towards her he had betrayed;' Matilda urges him to marry her: Pity my forrows, footh the heartfelt groan, And in the lawful way make me your own.' Her request, however, makes little impreffion on Caftalio; as we learn in the 7th canto, from a dialogue between his fervant and the lady: And is he fafe arriv'd! fhe eager cry'd. Arriv'd! no, no! he favagely replied; But I am come, his orders to obey, And know, that here you muft no longer ftay:- From hence yourself and maid muft inftant hie.' What was to be done? Matilda fcolds, fwoons, and fets off in purfuit of her betrayer. Her journey happens in a most dismal night, till he comes to a decent church: there, as the fits on a timeworn bench, the tempeft ftills-the moon glimmers-a coldness seizes her-fhe fees a ghoft! It was her father's, who happened to reach the fame church, and there died. In course, she dies too! As for Caftalio, Mr. Beft does not know what became of him, but he fuppofes that he will Soon leave the world with a detefted name.' Such is the plan of Matilda; and fuch is its execution. Surely then the author very aptly terms it An original Poem.' Art. 59. Half an Hour after Supper: an Interlude, in One A&t. As performed at the Theatre Royal, Haymarket. 8vo. pp. 22. 15. Debrett. 1789. The intention of this little piece is to point out the dangerous confequences, especially to young women, of poring over the fentimental trash of modern novels. We hope, for the fake of the moral, that, on the ftage, it poffeffed fome little intereft; of which, we are forry to fay, it is totally deficient in the clofet. Art. 60. As it should be; a dramatic Entertainment, in One A&. fidered |