of fo great a hand. The fame fine language, imagery, and glowing expreffion; an equal, if not fuperior grandeur and fublimity of fentiment, as appear in many of his other works, muft be evident to the intelligent reader. How it fell into the editor's hands is not material to be recited; the wonder is, that fo masterly a poem is not to be found among Dr. Young's other works. As it stands the publisher gives it to the world, and if any one fhould doubt the genuineness of it, by calling on him, he may be favoured with a fight of the copy from whence this was reprinted.

As the fubject, independent of the beautiful variety contained in it, relates to the trade and navigation of this kingdom, fo effential to the ftability and happiness thereof, the edi tor flatters himself that he fhall merit the thanks of the public for refcuing from oblivion, a poem, which, in its importance, is not exceeded by any other of the learned doctor's inimitable performances.'

We have perused this noble Pindaric poem, as the editor calls it, at the expence of much patience as well as labour. Whether a work nuanimated by any real flame of poetry, is the genuine production of a celebrated author, deferves no great folicitude of enquiry. It feems, however, from the editor's advertisement, that this ode has been printed before, and we may fairly infer from thence that it would certainly have been joined with the reft of the doctor's pieces, had he thought it worth preferving; nor could indeed fo foon have been configned to oblivion, had the public received it, at its firft appearance, with any diftinguished marks of favour. In thefe days, alas! it is no uncommon thing to collect each uncorrected fcrap fuppofed to have been written by a popular author, and expofe them to the world without paying the leaft regard to the reputation of the dead.

Whatever great and deferved fuccefs the late Dr. Young may have met with as a fatirift, a dramatic author, or a moralift, his most fanguine admirers have been always ready to confefs that his lyric attempts have proved invariably contemptible and mean. The fea-piece, dedicated to Voltaire, is, perhaps, as fat and empty a performance as any in the English language.

Moft of the defects and inequalities which characterize the ftile and manner of the author of the Night Thoughts, are to be found in this Naval Lyric, but fcarce any of his beauties. Thofe epigrammatic turns which difgrace the ferious labours of the mufe, that bulk of words which overlays the infant fentiment, and that cloud of imagery in which objects are totally obfcured, or at least rendered indiftin&, are to be met with in almost every page of this performance. Sometimes we behold the author, who, like Satan in Milton

As in a cloudy chair, afcending rides

Audacious; but that feat foon failing, meets
A vast vacuity: all unawares

Flut

Fluttering his pennons vain, plumb down he drops
Ten thoufand fathom deep-

-Nigh founder'd, on he fares

Treading the crude confiitence, half on foot,
Half flying-

Such is, perhaps, the general character of Dr. Young's pieces, if we except indeed his fatirical writings and his three tragedies.

Nor is our Pindaric without fome fentimental defignations of its author. That fagacity which never failed to discover virtues in a coach and fix, and that ftrain of flattery which was never afhamed of its own fervility, are confpicuous throughout the whole.

No quotation that the limits of our undertaking permit us to infert, will ferve to afford our readers any adequate idea of this performance. To felect either the beft or the worst stanzas, were alike injurious to the fame of the author and the truft repofed in us by our readers. We fhall therefore difmifs this article, by obferving once more, that notwithstanding our Naval Lyric may be the genuine offspring of the doctor's mufe, it is certain he had disclaimed it in his life-time, as it is not inferted in the collection of his works made by himself, though apparently written foon after the arrival of George II. in this kingdom.

13. The Dramatic Works of Mark Anthony Meilan; confifting of Three Tragedies, Emilia, Northumberland, The Friends. As they were prefented to the Managers of both our Theatres, but rejufed. Published by way of an Appeal from the arbitrary Decifions of the Defpots of the Drama, to Candour and the Lovers of Theatrical Amusements, whofe Liberality fo amply aggrandizes thofe Defaulters. 8vo. 5s. White.

Mr. Mark Anthony Meilan has attempted in his angry Preface, which breathes the true fpirit of a difappointed author, to be very fevere on Meffieurs Garrick and Colman, for refufing fuch pieces as would have been difmiffed with contempt even by the manager of a company of ftrollers acting in a barn. From an advertisement at the end of this truly dull publication, we learn that our author is a kind of pedagogue, who undertakes, like his brother academy-keepers, to teach every thing: and we are certain, from perufing as much as we could of his fleepcompelling fcenes, that he is better accustomed to the collocation of Arabic numerals than English words.

All the poetry Mr. M. Anthony Meilan has ever read, is perhaps comprized in the following lines, which are not unknown to every young practitioner in arithmetic."

Multiplication

Is a vexation;

Divifion is as bad:

The Rule of Three

Doth puzzle me,

And Practice makes me mad.

We

Curs'd like Prometheus to endure the smart

Of guilt's keen vulture gnawing at my hearts
Fix'd like Ixion on the whirling wheel,

The last severities of fin to feel.'

We cannot omit one quotation more without doing great injuftice to the author.-In the following verfes his poetical powers are strongly characterized.They exhibit a conflict betwixt paffion and virtue, the terrors which haunt even the numbers, and repofe of vice, the refuge of the guilty mind to repentance, and its desire to corroborate that repentance in a blooming folitude, with a variety, and force of fentiment, and a harmony of numbers, which would have done credit to the author of Eloifa's poetical epistle to Abelard.

• O Pollio come, and bless my longing arms,
Ah! quit once more thy confort's blooming charms,
Return ah! no-'
-'tis kinder far to stay,

And every nuptial rite of love to pay.

I fhall relapse-ye guardian pow'rs descend,
And wretched Julia from his charms defend!
No more let me behold his finiling face,
No more admire his fascinating grace;
No more let whispering winds his vows repeat,
Or fancy paint him votive at my feet!

For ah! laft night, when all feem'd wrapt in death,
Clos'd every eye-the wind scarce drew his breath-
By fancy tortur'd as I flumbering laid,

Methought I saw his confort's mournful shade,
Grief and despair fat pictur'd in her eyes,
With terror ftruck-I trembling ftrove to rise.
To urge her wrongs, she told me here she came,
And bade me wake to infamy and shame!
With many a grievous figh, and gufhing tear,
To know infifted, if her lord was here.
He's mine, fhe cry'd, by every tie above,
My life, my foul, my husband, and my love!
Long, long detefted be thy fyren tongue,
With wily arts, and foft allurements hung;
Curs'd be the inchantment of thy Cyprian charms,
That wrefted Pollio from my widow'd arms.
Awake-restore him to my bleeding breast,
Awake-repent-can fouls like thine have reft!
Still, ftill the urg'd the wrongs I'd done her bed,
Till I awoke, and ftrait the vifion fled.

Witnefs, O earth! and ye bright hosts above,
I here renounce him, as my lord and love!

Lo! on the mountain's cloud-envelopp'd height
Lours the black ftorm, beneath the veil of night,
The livid lightnings flash from either pole,
And waters roar, and mutt'ring thunders roll:
Down rush the torrents with impetuous fway,
And bear the fubject cottages away:
The fimple fwain, awaking with furprise,
Finds all the profpect fade before his eyes,
And round his couch the gath'ring horrors rife,
Till driving with the ftream, he floats amain,
While tempefts howl, and Jove defcends in rain.
Such certain ruin waits the hapless maid,
By flatt'ring words, by faithlefs vows betray'd.
Be this our task to paint-the plaintive muse,
No prefent theme more lofty strives to chufe.
If thefe fad ftrains awake the tender figh,
And call the tear from Pity's melting eye,
If, timely warn'd they fave one eafy fair
From the fharp tortures of the last despair,
Well is the labour spent, and well the time
Bestow'd to build this pile of homely rhime.
Perhaps, in future days, the may aspire
To more exalted ftrains to strike the lyre;
To fing the progrefs of the regal line,
A race of heroes gen'rous and divine,

From whom our kings their ancient lineage claim,
And the long glories of the Saxon name;

But now fhe drops all more ambitious views,

And thus in fimple guife the moral tale pursues.'

}

The title-page of this poem is adorned with an elegant and highly finished copper-plate, defigned and engraved by Walker. 15. Cricket. An Heroic Poem: illuftrated with the Critical Obfervations of Scriblerus Maximus. To which is added an Epilogue, called, Bucks Have at Ye All. Spoken by Mr. King, at the Theatre Royal in Dublin, in the character of Ranger, in the Sufpicious Hufband. By James Love, Comedian. 4to. 15.

T. Davies

To the Members of the Cricket Club, at Richmond, in Surrey. • Gentlemen,

ment.

The following little Poem, which, near thirty years ago, was the effufion of a youthful mind, is re-printed for your amufeThe greatest circumftance, perhaps, in its favour is, that it is founded upon fact; and may ferve to entertain the true lovers of cricket, by a recollection of many particulars, at a time when the game was cultivated with the utmost affiduity, and patronized by the perfonal appearance and management of fome of the moft capital people in the kingdom.

If the admirers of a manly British exercise fhould, in a vacant hour, receive the leaft entertainment from this production, it will amply fatisfy the author's utmost ambition; who, as an inhabitant of Richmond, would ever be happy to contribute his mite to the pleasure of his friends and neighbours, and is their very obedient, and moft humble fervant, James Love.'

The

The fingular modesty with' which this poem is ushered into the world, ought to procure a favourable reception even to a lefs ingenious performance.

16. Eve's Legacy to her Daughters; a Poem in two Cantos; with her Epitaph: and Tirefias. 8vo. 15. T. Davies.

This performance is far above the common attempts at bur lefque poetry; and fuch of our readers as purchafe it in expectation of an innocent laugh, will not be difappointed.

17. An Epifile from the Princess Fa, at Naples, to the Countess of, in London. 4to. Is. White.

This Epiftle feems to be intended as a fatire on the institution of the Female Coterie: but as we have not the honour of being initiated in the myfteries of that elegant affembly, we cannot take upon us to determine with certainty concerning the justnefs of the author's infinuations. We hope, however, that they are entirely void of foundation; and would beg of the facetious gentleman to whom the Epiftle is addreffed, to record this our favourable opinion, that the Critical Reviewers may not be black-balled, if ever they should request being admitted as members of that gay and polite affociation.

18. An Elegy written in Covent Garden. 410. 15. Ridley. The scene of this Elegy might have been laid at Tyburn with as much propriety as in Covent Garden: for the fubject of it is the fate of pick-pockets. It is a kind of parody on the celebrated Elegy in a Church yard, but refembles the original neither in elegiac tenderness nor beauty of fentiment; and is rather an apology for the innocence, than a lamentation for the vices, of the lower clafs of the people

To escape an ignominious death is imputed in the following ftanza to a defect of education.

Full many a youth, fit for each horrid scene, The dark and footy flues of chimnies bear; Full many a rogue is born to cheat unseen, And dies unhang'd for want of proper care.' 19. The Love of Money, a Satire. 4to.. 2s. A very dull and illiberal performance, printed on a very ftiff paper, and fold (if any are fold) at a very high price.

Evans.

20. The Drunken News-writer, a Comic Interlude. 8vo. 6d. Smith.

A most impotent attempt at humour.

NOVE L S.

21. Sentimental Tales. 2 Vols. 12mo. 5s. fewed. Wilkie. If these two volumes, which we have endured the labour of perufing, fhould be weighed in oppofition to any work that can boaft the merit of affording the leaft inftruction. they would ap pear but as a few floating atoms which fall unheeded into the