The old woman's wisdom encourages Walter:he confesses/ the fears he had felt; and is interrupted in the avowal by the entrance of the 'Squire, who comes to give him twenty guineas--the legacy of his uncle;-and offers him a house by the roadside to carry on his trade.

Goody, her dim eyes wiping, rais'd her brow,
And saw the young pair look they knew not how}
Perils and power while humble minds forego,
Who gives them half a kingdom gives them woe;
Comforts may be procur'd and want defied,
Heav'ns! with how small a sum, when right applied!
Give Love and honest Industry their way,
Clear but the sun-rise of Life's little day,
Those we term poor shall oft that wealth obtain,
For which th' ambitious sigh, but sigh in vain :
Wealth that still brightens, as its stores increase;

The calm of Conscience, and the reign of Peace.' P. 32.

Mr. Lofft has bestowed no exaggerated praise upon this poem in saying that it exhibits much of the clear, animated, easy. narrative, the familiar but graceful diction, and the change of numbers so interesting in Dryden.'

The Miller's Maid. This poem has the same power of versification as the foregoing; but the story is improbable. The discovery too nearly resembles the trick of novel-mongers. The next piece we must quote at length.

While thus I spin and sometimes sing,
(For now and then my heart will glow)
Thou measur'st Time's expanding wing:
By thee the noontide hour I know:
Though silent thou,
Still shalt thou flow,

And jog along thy destin'd way;
But when I glean the sultry fields,
When Earth her yellow harvest yields,
Thou get'st a holiday.

Steady as Truth, on either end
Thy daily task performing well,
Thou'rt Meditation's constant friend,
And strik'st the heart without a bell:
Come, lovely May!

Thy lengthen'd day

Shall gild once more my native plain :
Curl inward here, sweet woodbine flow'r 3-
"Companion of the lonely hour,

I'll turn thee up again." P. 59.

Market-Night.-Mr. Bloomfield sometimes deviates in this poem from his usual truth. A farmer's wife does not apostrophise the winds and the echo,-nor call upon the guardian spirits

that dwell

Where woods, and pits, and hollow ways,

The lone night-trav❜ler's fancy swell

With fearful tales, of older days-.' P. 64.

Every-day rhymers can write thus: but it is in such passages as the following we discover that the poet is delineating feelings which he understands.

• Where have you stay'd? put down your load.
How have you borne the storm, the cold?

What horrors did I not forbode.

That beast is worth his weight in gold.' P. 68.

The Fakenham Ghost.-A spirited little tale. A woman is followed by an ass's foal in the dark, and mistakes it for a spirit, The circumstance actually happened.

The next poem is the complaint of an old French Mariner, whose children have all been slain in the war.-Dolly, which follows, commences beautifully,

The bat began with giddy wing
His circuit round the shed, the tree;
And clouds of dancing gnats to sing
A summer-night's serenity.

Lines, occasioned by a Visit to Whittlebury Forest; addressed to my Children. This is a fine poem.

-

Thy dells by wint'ry currents worn,
Secluded haunts, how dear to me!
From all but Nature's converse borne,
No ear to hear, no eye to see.

Their honour'd leaves the

green

oaks rear'd,
And crown'd the upland's graceful swell;
While answering through the vale was heard
Each distant heifer's tinkling bell.

Hail, greenwood shades, that stretching far,
Defy e'en Summer's noontide pow'r,
When August in his burning car

Withholds the cloud, withholds the show'r.
The deep-ton'd low from either hill,
Down hazel aisles and arches green;
(The herd's rude tracks from rill to rill)
Roar'd echoing through the solemn scene..

• From my charm'd heart the numbers sprung
Though birds had ceas'd the choral lay:
I pour'd wild raptures from my tongue,
And gave delicious tears their way.
Then, darker shadows seeking still,
Where human foot had seldom stray'd,
I read aloud to every hill

Sweet Emma's love," the Nut-brown Maid,"

Shaking his matted mane on high

The gazing colt would raise his head;
Or, tim'rous doe would rushing fly,
And leave to me her grassy bed.' P.

.91.

The remaining poems are only not so good as those which we have noticed, because they are not so long. The Epigram upon the Translation of the Farmer's Boy into Latin is well pointed. We quote the concluding poem: its spirit and freedom are truly original.

" THE WINTER SONG.

Dear Boy, throw that icicle down,
And
sweep this deep snow from the door :
Old Winter comes on with a frown;
A terrible frown for the poor.

In a season so rude and forlorn
How can age, how can infancy bear
The silent neglect and the scorn
Of those who have plenty to spare?

• Fresh broach'd is my cask of old ale,
Well-tim'd now the frost is set in;
Here's Job come to tell us a tale,
We'll make him at home to a pin.
While my wife and I bask o'er the fire,
The roll of the seasons will prove,
That Time may diminish desire,
But cannot extinguish true love,

O the pleasures of neighbourly chat,
If you can but keep scandal away,
To learn what the world has been at,
And what the great orators say;
Though the wind through the crevices sing,
And hail down the chimney rebound;
I'm happier than many a king

While the bellows blow bass to the sound,

• Abundance was never my lot:
But out of the trifle that's given,
That no curse may alight on my cot,
I'll distribute the bounty of heaven;
The fool and the slave gather wealth:
But if I add nought to my store,
Yet while I keep conscience in health,

I've a mine that will never grow poor.' P. 117.

We hope, and believe, that the success of this volume will equal that of the Farmer's Boy; as we are sure that its merits are not inferior. The manner in which that poem has been received is honourable to the public taste and to the public feeling. Neglected genius has too long been the reproach of England. To enumerate the dead would be useless; but it is not yet too late to mention the living, whose merits have in vain appealed to the public. We allude to a self-taught man, as humble in his situation as the Farmer's Boy,' whose genius has been admitted, and whose profound learning in the antiquities of his own country will be acknowledged and regretted when it is too late-Edward Williams, the Welsh bard.

ART. VIII.-The Statistical Breviary; showing, on a Principle entirely new, the Resources of every State and Kingdom in Europe. Illustrated with stained Copper-plate Charts, representing the Physical Powers of each distinct Nation with Ease and Perspicuity. By William Playfair. To which is added a similar Exhibition of the ruling Powers of Hindustan. 8vo. Large Paper 75. 6d. Small Paper 5s. Boards. Wallis. 1801.

A

THIS will be found a useful little abstract for those who wish to acquire some knowledge of what the Germans call statistics. In the preface, the author points out the importance of this study: but when he asserts that geography is only a branch of statistics, he seems, like many other writers, to magnify his own subject; for all his statistical topics only form a portion-a small portion of the common books of geography. Nor will our author, it is presumed, be so bold as to assert that his Statistical Breviary includes a summary of geography. The ridicule of the financial system, in the preface, is very just; and nothing can be more preposterous or wicked than to encourage vice in order to swell the revenue, since the first and most essential duty of every government ought to be to watch over the public morals. But, as justice and utility are reciprocal, it has always been found that an administration which encourages corruption and depravity is suicidal; because the very corruption of the people renders them bad and discontented subjects, eager for any change that promises to gratify their propensities, and certainly never impressed with any reverence for their corruptors. To these considerations it may be added, that a revenue viciously acquired, according to the vulgar proverb in common life, is usually wasted in useless or nefarious pursuits.

Mr. Playfair's tables are engraved on copper, and exhibit in a very clear manner the extent, population, and revenues, of the principal European nations. But, in some instances, more regard might have been shown to accuracy; and, after recommending the work in general, we may be allowed to point out some corrections and improvements."

The retention of Poland in the tables is not only absurd, after the annihilation of that kingdom, but has caused several errors in the calculations relative to the three governments which have divided it. It was ludicrous to observe those who pretended to be ardent friends of liberty and mankind loudly exclaiming against the partition of Poland; while the people of that country were such miserable slaves, that they could not possibly exchange their government for a worse. ficence itself, that of Austria excellent, that of Russia greatly for the better, because the many tyrants are awed by onewhen compared with the Polish aristocracy.

That of Prussia is bene