ART. 26.-The amiable Tutoress; or the History of Mary and Fane Hornsby. A Tale for young Persons. 12mo. 2s. Boards. Hurst.

1801.

The moral of this tale is good. Two young ladies of Harleystreet had been educated, as it is called, by a French gouvernante, and, of course, could babble a little French, run over the keys of a harpsichord, make a sort of dawbing to be flattered as painting, but were totally unacquainted with real life, and every thing that might tend to enlarge their minds, improve their tempers, and make them good wives and good mothers. Their aunt, a sen sible woman, takes pity on their unhappy situation, when the eldest was fifteen, and the youngest fourteen years of age, carries them to her country-seat, and, by due attention, brings them to useful habits of reading, thinking, and exercise. As the tale is designed for young persons, greater care should have been taken of the style and language, both of which are faulty. The umbrageous shade of some wide spreading tree' may seduce young persons from the use of their native tongue, in which they should be taught to speak without affecting the hard words of a Johnson and a Gibbon, whose fatal influence on our language is every day more and more perceived in the compositions intended for youth.

ART. 27. Hints on the Education of the lower Ranks of the People; and the Appointment of Parochial Schoolmasters. Respectfully sulmitted to the Proprietors of Land in Great-Britain. By George Chapman, LL. D. 8vo. 6d. Cadell and Davies. 1801.

The object of the work is to encourage the establishment of schoolmasters in parishes-an object which deserves the attention of the legislature. We may observe, however, that it is in vain to appoint schoolmasters, unless inspectors are appointed by government to report every half year the state of their schools. Indeed, before this new plan is taken into consideration, it would be a desirable thing to have the actual state of the schools now established in different parts of the island examined into, that if in any district they have become sinecures, or are ill conducted, the funds may be applied to their original purposes.

POETRY.

ART. 28.-La Bagatella, or Delineations of Home Scenery ; a descriptive Poem. In Two Parts. With Notes, Critical and Historical. By William Fox, Jun. 8vo. 75. 6d. Boards. Rivingtons. 1801. Mr. Fox gives the following history of his poem.

It may, perhaps, amuse my readers to learn the history of the following bagatelle; which is, briefly, this :-It happened, that on a fine morning, in the early part of the last spring, having just recovered from the languors of an indisposition, I strolled forth through the fields that lie contiguous to my habitation; and, feeling greatly revived by the genial warmth of the air, and the fresh and blooming aspect of every object around me, I could not forbear, on returning

from my walk, to express myself in terms, perhaps too enthusiastic, of the beauties of the country, and the pleasantness of the scenery, over which I had rambled.

A lady, who was then visiting in my family, rallied me a great deal on the poetic fervour of my descriptions, but sarcastically lamented, that my labours should have been employed on scenes so entirely unworthy of the embellishment, which I had bestowed upon them; and concluded, by triumphantly asking, "What of sylvan, or of rustic beauty, could be any where found at a distance of not more than three miles from the metropolis, within the din of its noises, and the very smoke of its chimnies?"

Piqued by the severity of the observation, my spirit inwardly muttered, "Although, my fair friend, you despise now these homescenes, in the praises of which I am so lavish, yet I will, methinks, one day compel, even you, to allow, that they are not destitute of every attraction; and that, if to your eyes they can present no real verdure, you shall one day confess, that at least they "look green in song." P. iii.

The versification is smooth, and the whole temper of the poem pleasing. We copy the concluding passage, as the best.

Stranger, if e'er by this low verse allur'd
To these home-paths, and fresh green flowery meads,
Slight not the flowery meads, the russet paths,
For they are pleasant-they are dear to me.
What, tho' no mountain-height here lifts its head,
Wood-crown'd-whence the lone ruin'd abbey peeps,
That erst had shelter'd many a sainted maid,
Or where the castle's many-faned towers
Salute the early glimmerings of the morn?
What tho' nor classic Cam, nor Isis here,
Extend their laureat arms, nor proudly lave
Our streams, the haunts of Academus' sons;
Yet ever-bounteous nature, here the same,
Unfolds her stores. The common grass here scents
As pure as in the unfrequented vale.

The gently rippling stream here runs as clear
As other streams-the birds as sweetly sing
As forest birds, where no one lists to hear.
And this our homely well, and bubbling brook,
Tho' never honour'd yet by poet's song,
To me more grateful flow than stranger rills,

Whose sides no friend hath trod, and from whose banks
No kindly hand hath cull'd the flower, to say,

"Remember me!" and (might I dare indulge
A thought so vain) altho' unknown to Fame,
These humble walks now wind their modest course,
All unhistoric-unpoetic ground-
Yet hitherward, in other days, perchance,
Led by this pensive verse, some kindred heart
May heave a sigh for me-some love-lorn youth
May, as across th' old bridge he hangs his head,

To his companion whisper tenderly,
(Whilst I, a listening spirit, hover nigh)

"Twas here our village bard was wont to stray,
Muttering his fancies to himself aloud;
Here have I met him at the gray of morn,
When the fresh roseate breath of early spring
Wav'd o'er the daisied meadows, pacing slow
These paths along-and oft, at twilight hour,
On this low bench, by moonlight, did he sit,
Gazing, in pensive mood, on yon old tower.
And here it was, they tell, he wak'd the strain
That now hath hither lur'd our wandering way.
Then pause a moment, comrade, while I grave
('Tis all the tribute we can yield him now!)
On this, his favourite bench, his lowly name!"

P. 115..

We have omitted the notes to this passage. Indeed the book is unreasonably swoln with long extracts, that serve neither to elucidate the text nor inform the reader. There are above twenty pages in the Appendix extracted from Warton's Poems.

ART. 29.-Peace, a Poem; inscribed to the Right Honourable Henry Addington. By Thomas Dermody. 4to. 1s. 6d. Hatchard.

1801.

The careless production of a man of genius.

• Hark! the loud cannon from the Julian tow'r,
With harmless thunder scares the midnight hour!
Th' illumin'd domes their mimic stars display,
And Thames' blue breast reflects a softer day!
Again, majestic river! on thy tide,

In splendid state, shall anch'ring navies ride;
Again, shall Rapture hear, thy banks along,
The seaman's whistle join the shepherd's song;
And sun-burnt Commerce waft, with patient smile,
The wealth of worlds to her distinguish'd isle.
Lo! where the woe-worn widow, trembling stands,
And lifts to heav'n her supplicating hands;
Lo! where the virgin, thrill'd with doubt severe,
In modest anguish, hides the trickling tear!
Mourners, look up, and live! infectious air,
Nor prison'd want, nor comfortless despair,
Could from your sailor's faithful soul remove
The stubborn ties of duty and of love.

Yes! he shall come, with fond, assiduous care,
To soothe your sorrows, or, at least, to share;
The manly strength, which oft, with lion-force,
Thro' Death's dire breach could urge its dauntless course,
Once more shall for your helpless age provide,
And shield you from the coward-taunt of Pride!

Methinks, escap'd, by chance, from thousands slain,

Proud of his wounds, and triumphing in pain,

;

Fame-fed, awhile forgetful he is poor, I see the soldier ope his native door! The latch, by him untouch'd for many a year, Leaps to his hand-and oh! what scenes appear! The wond'ring wife, approaching from afar, Scarce knows his face, deform'd with many a scar; The tott'ring grandsire, tho' his eye-sight fail, Feels the superior sense, within, prevail; The ready stool his prattling tribe prepare, Their wild black eyes upturn'd with dubious stare; Aside the knapsack's hairy wonder thrust Or, from the polish'd musquet rub the rust. Then fledg'd with down, the hurrying moments fly O'er many a question, many a quick reply, Fell siege, and fatal storm, and ambuscade, In dying embers on the hearth pourtray'd; 'Till wearied toil, to needful rest withdrawn, Adjourns th' unfinish'd story to the dawn.' Mr. Dermody promised much in early youth. We wish to see his powers employed upon subjects more worthy, and of more permanent interest.

P. 8.

ART. 30.-Ode to Peace, To which is added, The Negro's Appeal.

By John Henry Colls. 4to. 15. Longman and Rees. 1801. Twelve lines in a quarto page! A profitable mode of printing to the author and the reader. The one fills his book the sooner, and the other finishes it the sooner.

ART. 31.-Union; a Poem. In Two Parts. Part I. 12mo. 2s. 6d. Chapple. 1801.

Poems upon these temporary subjects rarely survive the interest excited by the subject, even if they ever rise into notice. In this little volume there are no striking merits; but we are surprised to find in its even mediocrity so odd a passage as the following. He

tells the lambs of Eden

You never more shall thrust your snowy
On the soft lap of such a mistress Eve.”

sides

P. 9.

ART. 32.-The British Parnassus, at the Close of the Eighteenth Century; a Poem, in Four Cantos. By Alexander Thomson. 4to. 55. Longman and Rees. 1801.

We have been amused by the odd phrases and whimsical rhymes of this good-natured poem.

King Alfred, too, lately has met with a bard,
Who has thrown on his actions an epic regard;
It is Cottle, not he whom his Edda made famous,
But Joseph of Bristol, the brother of Amos,
With a simple, yet pleasing expression, who sings
The hardships endur'd by this best of your kings.

It should seem that this same is an epical year,
Since two other songs are about to appear:

Not one of them built upon outlandish dreams,
All the three are devoted to national themes;
For fanciful Burges election has made

Of the splendid achievements of Richard's crusade,
Resolving the force of his talents to try on
That chivalrous prince, with the heart of a lion:
And Ogilvie, he who presum'd to display
The terrible scenes of the last awful day,
That vet'ran in verse, who was author of Rona,
Means yet to contend for the epic corona;
And for this noble purpose, a theme has selected,
On which Pope already an epic projected;

That fabulous theme of invention the soil,
The arrival of Brutus in Albion's isle.

Nor must I forget (for perhaps he's your neighbour)
To praise the anonymous author of Gebir.’· P. 33.

George Dyer too here, that benevolent spirit,
A station deserves, for his ode-writing merit,
As a sample whereof, on which no one can trade ill,
You may take his Asteria rocking the cradle.

And tho' last, not the least, lo, where Bowles now appears!

While his lyrical bark to that region he steers,

Where Hope soothes his sorrow with views allegoric,
And Spenser revives in his fancy so Doric.'

P. 39.

A century hence this poem will be a valuable catalogue raisonné of the perishable poetry of the present æra. Nine tenths of the works which it praises will then be dead, with no hope of a joyful resurrection.

ART. 33.-A Rainy Day, or Poetical Impressions during a Stay at Brighthelmstane, in the Month of July 1801. By James Boaden. 4to. 25. Egerton. 1801.:

Magnificent nonsense.

Nature sitting on her rocky throne, '

'Her verdant bosom swept by gales of joy,

And Ocean laving in his emerald waves

Her ivory feet, while sportive sun-beams glance
Their amorous desire.' P. 2.

1

See yonder tribe of glowing innocents
Rising, like seraphs from the mystic wave,
Purer and full of soul. P. 2.

O chance, thou curious frolic principle,
To whom once sages (falsely term'd, ascrib'd
Their and all other being-I must smile
To see thy freaks exemplified eva here.
Two houses catch the eye upon the shore,
'By landlords kept, with names ordained to meet,
Bacon and Hogsflesh-Does it not exceed
Contrivance far? Thus have I seen full oft