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which the various subjects connected with the duties of tradesmen are handled in the body of the work. The advice given is indeed good, and, if it be carefully followed, may make an honest and induftrious thopkeeper ; but the reward of such a character is not renown, or the pinnacle of fame. Amusing Recreations ; or a Collection of Charades and Riddles on
political Characters, and various Subjects. Dedicated to Lady Onsiowy. By Mrs. Pilkington. 12mo. Is. Vernor and Hood. 1798.
From the dedication of this collection, we learn that it obtained the approbation of lady Onslow, who is probably a better judge of such compositions than the Critical Reviewers. The political conundrumis, we apprehend, are beyond the capacity of the readers for whom the work is intended, but may suit children of a larger growth. Elements of Geography ; containing a concise and comprehenfive View
of that useful Science as divided into Afironomical, Physical, or Natural, and Political Geography, on a new Plan; adapted to the Capacities of Youth, and designed for the Use of Schools, and private Families. By Jedidiah Morse, D.D. Embellished with Maps,
35. 6d, Bound. Stockdale. This is an useful school-book. The compiler had in view the improvement of his countrymen; and he is therefore particularly diffufe in his description of America ; but, from the increasing importance of that part of the world, this cannot be considered as a blemish in the work. The general accounts of the system, of the component parts of the earth, and of the political and religious state of mankind, are well adapted to the rising generation.
POETRY. Greenfield Hill: a Poem, in seven Parts. By Timothy Dwight, D.D. 8vo.
35. 6d. Button. It is always with pleasure that we announce the success of the polite arts, wherever it occurs; and, when America discovers an excellence in the literary walk, it is with an unfeigned fatisfaction that we make the communication to the public.
Greenfield Hill, a beautiful spot in Connecticut, is the subject of the Trans-atlantic Muse, who proves her powers in descriptive poetry to be beyond the flight of a vulgar wing.
We shall select the beginning of the poem in support of our opinion.
• From southern isles, on winds of gentleft wing,
Sprinkled with morning dew, and rob’d in green,
Life in her eye, and music in her voice,
Lo spring returns, and wakes the world to joy!
Forth creep the smiling herbs; expand the flowers;
New-loos'd, and bursting from their icy bonds,
The streams freth-warble, and through every mead
Convey reviving verdure ; every bough,
Full-blown and lovely, teens with sweets and songs ;
And hills, and plains, and pastures feel the prime.
• As round me here I gaze, what prospects rise!
Etherial ! matchless! fich as Albion's fons,
Could Albion's ifle an equal prospect boaft,
In all the harmony of numerous fong,
Had tun'd to rapture, and o'er Cooper's hill,
And Windsor's beauteous forest, high uprais’d,
And sent on fame's light wing to every clime.
Far inland, blended groves, and azure hills,
Skirting the broad horizon, lift their pride.
Beyond, a little chasm to view unfolds
Ceruleau mountains, verging high on heaven,
In misty grandeur. Stretch'd in nearer view,
Unnumber'd farms falute the cheerful eye;
Contracted there to little gardens ; here outspread
Spacious, with pastures, fields, and meadows rich;
Where the young wheat it's glowing green displays,
Or the dark soil bespeaks the recent plough,
Or flocks and herds along the lawn disport.
• Fair is the landscape ; but a fairer still
Shall foon inchant the soul-when harvest full
Waves wide its bending wealth. Delightful talk !
To trace along the rich, enamellid ground,
The sweetly varied hues; from India's corn,
Whose black’ning verdure bodes a bounteous crop,
Through lighter grass, and lighter still the flax,
The paler oats, the yellowish barley, wheat
In golden glow, and rye in brighter gold.
These foon the fight fall bless. Now other scenes
The heart dilate, where round, in rural pride
The village spreads its tidy, snug retreats,
That speak the industry of every hand.' Having no reason to doubt the veracity of the reverend bard, we shall exhibit a part of his prospect for the admiration of our readers.
• How bless’d the fight of such a numerous train
In such small limits, tasting every good
Of competence, of independence, peace,
And liberty unmingled; every house
On its own ground, and every happy swain
Beholding no superior, but the laws,
And such as virtue, knowledge, useful life,
And zeal, exerted for the public good,
Have rais'd above the throng. For here, in truth,
Not in pretence, man is esteeem'd as man.
Not here how rich, of what peculiar blood,
Or office high; but of what genuine worth,
What talents bright and useful, what good deeds,
What piety to God, what love to man,
The question is. To this an answer fair
The general heart secures. Full many a rich,
Vile knave, full many a blockhead, proud
Of ancient blood, these eyes have seen float down
Life's dirty kennel, trampled in the mud,
Stepp'd o'er unheeded, or puth'd rudely on;
While merit, rising from her huinble skiff
To barks, of nobler, and still nobler size,
Sail'd down the expanding stream, in triumph gay,
By every ship faluted.' As it is natural for every man, to cherish in his heart the amor patria, we applaud the enthusiasm of the following apostrophe.
• Hail, O hail
My much-lov'd native land ! New Albion hail !
The happiest realm, that, round his circling course,
The all- searching fun beholds. What though the breath
Of Zembla's winter shuts thy lucid streams,
And hardens into bráss thy generous soil ;
Though, with one white, and cheerless robe, thy hills,
Invested, rife a long and joyless waste;
Leafless the grove, and dumb the lonely spray,
And every pasture mute: what though with clear
And fervid blaze, thy summer rolls his car,
And drives the languid herd, and fainting flock
To seek the shrouding umbrage of the dale ;
While mari, relax'd and feeble, anxious waits
The dewy eve, to fake his thirsty frame :
What though thy surface, rocky, rough, and rude,
Scoop'd into vales, or heav'd in lofty hills,
Or cloud-embofom'd mountains, dares the plough,
And threatens toil intense to every swain :
What though foul calumny, with voice malign,
Thy generous fons, with every virtue grac'd,
Accus’d of every crime, and still rolls down
The kennellid stream of impudent abuse:
Yet to high heaven my ardent praises rife,
That in thy lightsome vales he gave me birth,
All-gracious, and allows me still to live.'
P. 13. From these specimens of American poetry, the reader, we think, will derive pleasure; and, when we inform him that they are not the only meritorious passages in the poem, he will probably be defarous of perusing the whole.
Epifle in Rhyme, to M, G. Lewis, Esq. M. P. Author of the
Monk, Castle Spectre, &c. With other Verfes. By the same
Hand. Svo. 15. Lunn. 1798.
The author of this epistle undertakes to vindicate the morality of the Monk, and lavishes praise upon the Caftle Spectre. To us Mr. Lewis's romance appears the vigorous production of a depraved imagination ; and his play we deem excellent only in pantomimic ftage effect. The present writer, however, muft not be considered as indifferent to the morals of the public; for he pretends to have discovered a dangerous tendency in The Stranger. This is extraordinary in one who appears as the apologift for defcriptions of gross lewdness; but he has accounted for it by faying that the Stranger contains French morality.
The poetry of the epistle poffeíses great merit. Our extract will now the author's
Say, oft as night and silence o'er the earth
Draw their clofe veil, and give reflection birth,
Is not a spirit, good or ill, confeít,
In ev'ry virtuous, ev'ry guilty breaft?
Does not a voice, that will be heard, pervade
The inmost soul in deep retirement's shade?
Does it not calm of innocence the fear?
Does it not yell to prosp'rous vice, “ Despair !"
Why then forbid the poet's art to give
Corporeal shape to what all feel who live?
No mind so firm but oft recurs in thought,
To all the priest and all the nurse have taught;
Mem’ry acknowledges the forms of air,
And ev'ry goblin finds acquaintance there.
Not so the monstrous brood that shock belief,
Palm'd on the town by Morton and O'Keeffe ;
Who, still with nature and good sense at ftrife,
Profanely stile their figures drawn from life :
Ev'n Boaden's ghost is surely full as good
As Holcroft's characters of Aesh and blood,
To which, throughout the year, no day goes by,
But gives in ev'ry lineament the lie.
Soon shall fome wag, to set opinions right,
Describe the nymphs of Billingsgate---polite,
Soft sentiment from lips of butchers roll,
Or with a tender turnkey melt the foul !
Since valiant taylors, on the stage let loose,
Rouse all the lion rampant-in the goose !
And gen'rous Jews unsparingly dispense
Pure chriftianity and vital pence!' P. 6.
Poems on various Subjects. By Mary Ann Chantrell, of Newington
Butts. 8vo. 25. 6d. Simmons, 1798. There is nothing better in this volume than the Address to the Subscribers.
• When Fancy to me her affistance first lent,
To amuse my own thoughts was my only intent;
The wish of a few partial friends have prevail'd,
O'er the vanity their foothing flattery affail'd;
Yet, ere I consented in print to appear,
'Twas requisite courage hould teach me to bear
The laugh of the critic, the sneer of contempt,
With ridicule's smile at the foolis attempt.
Arm'd with resolution, at length I presume,
To publish these trifles, nor ligh at their doom.
But let me serious, nor longer provoke,
The contempt of my friends by attempts at a joke.' P. v.
We may also observe, that there is nothing worse.
The Warning, a poetical Address to Britons. To which is added,
a Report of the Proceedings of the Whig Club, at their Meeting, May 11, 1798, in a poetical Epistle from Henry Bumpkin, in Town, 10 his Brother in the Country. Svo. Is. 6d. Hatchard. 1798.
Of this very dull and very loyal piece a short specimen will be sufficient.
" What are the blessings, Britons, we can boast,
That tempt the av'rice of the Gallic host?
For think not they will bring you freedom here,
But death and robb’ry they import elsewhere :
Indeed those tools, the cannon and the sword,
To freedom rarely better times afford;
'Tis not their aim, your wealth, your homes, and land,
Will be requir'd, to glut the hungry band;
Nor is this all, where'er they plant the foot,
They cut prosperity up by the root.'
The Egotist : or, Sacred Scroll. A familiar Dialogue between the
Author of the Pursuits of Literature and Oétavius. 8vo. Is. Od. Murray and Highley. 1798.
This is an attempt to ridicule a malignant work; but it displays little ability.
DR A M A. Cambro-Britons, an Historical Play, in Three Ads. First 'per. formed at the Theatre Royal, Haymarket, on Saturday, July 21, 1798. With a Preface. Written by James Boaden, Ejq. Author of Fontainville Forest, Italian Monk, &c. &c. 8vo. Robinsons. 1798. The march of troops up the mountains, the bards cursing them