Was then the lowly minstrel dear to thee? Seven winters cannot pluck from memory's store That storm of trouble bursting on his head, When the fiend came, and left two children dead! The native vigour of his mind arose, And, as new summers teem'd with brighter views, And claims a sacrifice; the deed is done- His young cheek even now is scarcely cold, Truth will be heard, and GoD will bless the song! Give not a foe dominion o'er your blood, Then, let the serpent die! this glorious prize Sets more than life and health before our eyes, I had proceeded thus far with the Poem, when the above fact became a power ful stimulus to my feelings, and to the earnestness of my exhortations. For beauty triumphs too! Beauty! sweet name, A glance warms age itself, and gives the boy For DEAD IS ONE MORTAL FOE OF HUMAN KIND? It is unnecessary to point out the several exquisite beauties of this passage. Those who feel them, need it not; and those who do not, could derive no advantage from it.-Give us the blind to instruct in colours, and the deaf in sounds, but let nothing be required of us, touching the man who is not sensible of the charms of these verses, except our pity. After various animated pictures drawn, both in foreign climates and in our own, of the devastation occasioned by this fell destroyer of beauty and of life, the poem at length concludes with the victory of the vaccine inoculation; a victory unstained with gore, That strews its laurels at the cottage door. P. 36. In this delightful labour of his Muse, Mr. Bloomfield has received no assistance from either his worthy and best friend Mr. Lofft or Dr. Jenner, but has depended entirely on himself for the notes subjoined, which are selected from Woodville on inoculation. Whatever the flowers of poetry could do to promote science, has now been done, and our poet has added another unfading wreath to those which he has before so deservedly obtained. Odd Whims and Miscellanies, by Humphry Repton, Esq. 2 Vols. Svo. 18s. Miller. 1804. Too many years had, we thought, passed over our heads, in serving the public, in our present occupation, to permit us to be surprised at any thing in the world of letters, and, least of all, at folly and nonsense, but we confess that our wonder has, in some measure, been excited, by the price charged by Mr. Repton, for his efforts in this way, as it seems to argue that folly and nonsense are become scarce, which we most seriously disbelieve.-Or, possibly, Mr. Repton may chop his logic in this manner :-" If the mechanic, who performs his work better than another, requires greater wages, why should not I, who have written more foolishly than most of my craft, demand a higher premium for my labour?" We trust, however, that this charge is merely an ODD whim, and not likely to prove general:-if not, we sincerely hope that the public will set their faces against the imposition, and persevere in it, although it should eventually occasion even the whole of this class of workmen, in the book line, to STRIKE. O giorno felice! Our nets are always out, and though we expect not, at every haul, to be blessed with shoals of the rarest fish, yet, when we pay so handsomely for our sport, we do entertain the idea of catching something better than minnows and miller's thumbs: such, however, has been our success in 'Squire Humphrey's Shallows; and we have not only had the mortification of being condemned to small fry, but, on examination, to the same as we once caught before*, and, committed again to the stream, with (as it now appears) a vain hope that they would improve. Here we shall quit our figure, but not without remarking that Mr. Repton is himself a bungling sort of a fisherman, and is probably angling with his minnows, for fish of a superior kind-gudgeons! The second volume contains a play, called " Odd Whims, or Two at a Time." In speaking of this, we have simply to confirm the truth of what the author has advanced in his prologue. "The *The first volume is composed of a number of puerile essays, published formerly ` with others, under the title of " Variety." Not being touched then, they are now served up again in a fresh dish, with a garnish---Crambe bis cocta. scenes and characters are old." After this, the Gods make Humphry poetical, and we are treated with "Poetic Miscellanies,” of which we shall give his own opinion, although we do not perfectly agree with him. From whom come these things? how are they directed? My prose is such prosing, 'tis fifty times worse. P. 134. We say that we do not perfectly agree with him, because we must do him the justice to own that we have our doubts whether his prose is worse than this. Though we have been far from taking much delight in these pages, yet we recollect the time when they would have afforded us no small share. We allude not to the writing, but to the pretty pictures which are here and there stuck into these volumes, and, but for the price, would make them a very desirable present to young masters and misses, at Christmas. These specimens of art are all "drawn by H. Repton"-Harriot Repton, most likely, one of Humphry's daughters, and in all probability daubed over, as we have them, with water colours, by some one of the little Reptons, whose genius seems to keep pace with that of their honoured papa. 66 These trifles," as Mr. R. calls them, are dedicated to the Right Honourable Wm. Windham, with the high compliment, that he, as a man of genius, knows the value of trifling," and will, of course, esteem this work accordingly. Letters written by the late Earl of Chatham to his Nephew, Thomas Pitt, Esq. (afterwards Lord Camelford) then at Cambridge, 5s. Payne. 1804. FOR these unadorned and affectionate letters, composed to warn, admonish, instruct, enlighten, and convince the reason of a youth at college, the public is indebted to that able and eloquent statesman, Lord Grenville, who publishes them with the entire concurrence of the present Chancellor of the Exchequer, to whom they are dedicated. "They are," says the noble editor in his preface, "few in number, written for the private use of an individual, during a short period of time, and containing only such detached observations on the extensive subjects to which they relate, as occasion might happen to suggest, in the course of familiar correspondence. Yet even these imperfect remains will, undoubtedly, be received by the public with no common interest, as well from their own intrinsic value, as from the picture which they display of the character of their author." P. vii. viii. "What parent,” continues this acute, learned, and elegant writer, “anxious for the character and success of a son, born to any liberal station in this great and free country, would not, in all that related to his education, gladly have resorted to the advice of such a man? What youthful spirit, animated by any desire of future excellence, and looking for the gratification of that desire, in the pursuits of honourable ambition, or in the consciousness of an upright, active, and useful life, would not embrace, with transport, any opportunity of listening on such a subject, to the lessons of Lord Chatham? THEY ARE HERE BEFORE HIM. Not delivered with the authority of a preceptor, or a parent, but tempered by the affection of a friend, towards a disposition and character well entitled to such regard." P. xii-xiii. Differing from the Earl of Chatham, Lord Grenville, with taste and judgment, reproves the too favourablé opinion entertained by the Earl, of the political writings of Bolingbroke; and vindicates, with spirit, the integrity of Clarendon, which the noble author of these epistles unjustly distrusts. More might be observed on this admirable preface, but we hasten to the work which it is its object to introduce, and we cannot better speak the praises of these letters and shew their qualities and perfection in a fuller view than by extracting from them, in the greatest degree that our limits will permit. The first letter is without date; the second is from Bath, Oct. 12, 1751, and the last from St. James's Square, Oct. 27, 1757, four months after the Earl was restored to the situation of Secretary of State, by the irresistible appeals of the people, which prevailed entirely over the court intrigues that had displaced him. Of this circumstance, however, and of the vicissitudes of his political life, its splendour and its glory, these writings convey no information. On all subjects, except the improvement of his nephew's mind and heart, and some few domestic trifles, they are totally silent. In the third letter we find this excellent advice: "You are already possessed of the true clue to guide you through this dan gerous and perplexing part of your life's journey, the years of education; and upon which, the complexion of all the rest of your days will infallibly depend: I say you have the true clue to guide you, in the maxim you lay down in your letter to me, namely, that the use of learning is, to render a man more wise and virtuous; not merely to make him more learned. Macte tuâ Virtute; Go on, my dear boy, by this golden rule, and you cannot fail to become every thing your generous heart prompts you to wish to be, and that mine most affec tionately wishes for you. There is but one danger in your way; and that is, perhaps, natural enough at your age, the love of pleasure, or the fear of close application and laborious diligence. With the last there is nothing you may not conquer: and the first is sure to conquer and enslave whoever does not strenuously and generously resist the first allurements of it, lest by small indulgen |