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too glowingly when he gave form and figure to the fallacious principles and simulating sentiments of the late EARL OF CHESTERFIELD"; who, certainly intended to make a SEDLEY of a STANHOPE : at the same time, it gratifics us to perceive the ear of a young writer, in the heydey of his imagination, thus open to every appeal of sober criticisin, and rather listening to, than turning from the voice of instruction' and propriety. He thought an antidote necessary to expell the poison of Chesterfield, and here it is-prepared in a very skilful manner. The Syften of Truth is here fully and permanently established upon the ruins of the System of simulation, and though we do not think there is the fame degree of impetuous fire, pointed passion, and seductive eloquence in the character of Carlisle, which are to be distinguished in that of Sedley, yet those who consider the blessings which beam upon society from affections more disciplined, vivacity more chastised, principles more correct, and pursuits more laudable, will not fail to dwell with delight on the contrast; and on rèflection wilh to imitate the Tutor of Truth rather than the Pupil of Pleasure. This work is, therefore, not so much to be recommended as a sparkling effusion of genius, kindling as it goes along—for in this reipect we prefer the former publication--but as an amiable effort of judginent and good sense, exciting the softer and gentle feelings of the mind; and pointing out the paths of honour, truth, and integrity in our dealings both with men and women, instead of those which frequently lead, as in the case of Sedley, to brilliant wretchedness, and dazzling ruin. It is in this view we think, with our author, that the work is a sequel worthy the hiftorý which gave it birth,

The dexterity of this writer in drawing characters, in aptly discriminating them from each other, and in marking their due proportions, has been acknowledged ever since the appearance of that book of characters called “Liberal Opi. nions, though we think nature more closely copied in • Shenstone Green'-The same talent is discernable in many. parts of The Tutor of Truth' especially in the character of Gabriel Hewson the classical pedant, whose manners, however common in life, are, we think, not usually found in books.—Perhaps Medway's character is a little outré, unless we allow that of Colonel Bath, in Henry Fielding's Amelia, to be naturally drawn; and then this of our author, is too close a copy.--Henry Hewson's humour too, is, in fomeKales, carried 100 far in others he serves as a very pleasant contrast to brother Gabriel. - Though the Marchionefs of

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N. puts one too much in mind of the lady who follows Sie Charles Grandifon, yet the different circumstances of temper, fortune, and constitution, atone for that (perhaps accidental) similarity; and we have feldom met more affecting claims upon our pity than presented themselves in the course of her correspondence. We wish a little more of that animating fervor of diction which this author has sometimes lavished upon a less amiable character, had been thrown in

to that of the lovely Lucia de Grey, who, notwithstanding · her gentle difpofition, lofcs, now and then, much of the interest which we wish to have for her, when she stands by the side of the ardent and unhappy Marchioness: but, perhaps, the peaceful, or even the impassioned scenes of virtuous life do not admit of that fervor of colouring which is proper to paint the agitated situations of vice and irregularity-all peace without, all harmony within; or else {uch kind of distress as demands the softening tear, and tender figh: unattended by those torrents of remorse and bursts of conscience which break from a heart whose affections are wild, enthufiaftic, yoluptuous or ungovernable. Upon the whole then, THE TUTOR OF TRUTH may be read by those into whole hands it might be hazardous to put the PUPIL OF PLEASURE.-The latter, it is true, strikes on the imagination of the reader like the flash of the lightning, but like that flash may chance--at leaft such has been the idea-to injurę wbile it astonishes: The former is as a generous stream, which, issuing from some unpolluted fountain, flows regularly along, displaying in its progress many an agreeable flower, opening various prospects, and festilizing as it goes. The one is as a hurricane which exhibits the hemisphere in a sudden blaze of momentary brightness changing as suddenly to proportioned gloom—while ihe other is as a calm wherein the face of the heavens is more uniformly inviting ; where the gale is more temperate, and which if it surprizes less, it satisfies more.

The limits of our Review do not allow us to extend these obfervations. Nor, indeed is it necessary to run the con, traft farther. We have been insensibly led to trace and to examine it with some accuracy, but we must defer any extract from the work itself to a future opportunity. S

Friendship the dernier Resource : a Poem. Addressed to a Gentle

mon-late of Cambridge. By a loung Gentlemen of the Mid-
die Tempe, 4to. 18. 6d. Evans,
4

This This is intended, we perceive, as an ethic epistle after the manner of Mr. Pope.- Alack, and a-well-a-day! Mr. Pope says

• Eye nature's walk, shoot folly as it flies,

And catch the manners living as they rise.'
Our young gentleman of the Middle Temple, says,

ic View nature's law, unravel nature's plan,

Regard a while the citadel of man.”
To which, we say,

* Laugh where we MUST, be candid where we CAN. The author of this Poem has really made some very pretty discoveries.- We always imagined that the bosom of pity was affectionate and warm, but our author has found out that

“Pity's cold as frost

Like sect it falls (he says) and soon as sleet is loft." Former poets have been accustomed to call the moon inconftant, fickle, and changing, but this innovating bard bestows upon her the epithet of FAITHFUL. Speaking of the contradictory qualities of women, who have long been privileged to cheat,' he offers to us one of the daintiest allusions that sounding nonfenfe ever assumed,

“ So stars join stars, to make each power more fierce,

Flash to confound, and penetrate to pierce.??
There's for you, reader !-- The frantic. line of that mad poet,
Nathaniel Lee,

Whose gods met gods, and joftled in the dark.
feems fober reason to this.
Treating of friends, he thus deplores their scarcity,

" Such Marcus is, yet Marcus is but one,

And unit be, and that's as good as none. In what school our author was taught arithmetic we do not know.---This inode of calculation at least appears. a little in-. acurate, for we do stoutly maintain that a unit is better than a cypher. Ergo, Mafter Marcus, though but one friend is better than none.

After having looked into every nook and corner for Friendship, where, reader, doft thou think he finds her? ---But thou wilt never guess; and so we, upon the authority of our author, will inform thee, that the lady Friendship, after being lulled to reft by droning village flies, was discovered, “ in a rustic garb,” on a bed of STABLE STRAW." If thou hadft looked after her for twice seven years, we question

whether

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whether thou wouldest have thought of looking for the fair lady in that litter.

The two last lines of the poem merit and meet with our hearty concurrence.'

“ When he with men and things is conversant long,

May founder judgment, point a BETTER song." Amen to that sweet prayer! The only hope of seeing which come to pass, however, is gathered froin perceiving here and there a pretty thought harmoniously expressed; as in the following lines for instance,

“ Friendship, more pure than Cynthia's virgin light,
Soft as the morn, and quiet as the night,
As autumn calm, and more than woman fair,
Fresh as the spring, and yielding as the air,
As courage bold, and more than grandeur great,
Fixt as the earth, and permanent as fate;
Not aw'd by pow's, nor yet by interest fway'd,
In candour dreit, and finpleft truth array'd
Not prone to stoop, for humble to commend,
In meanest things she seeks the noblert end.”

Poems ; by a Young Nobleman of distinguished Abilities, lately

deceased, 4to. 2s. 6d. Kearlley.

These Poems, by a young Nobleman, mark his imputed character too strongly to be thought spurious; and yet confidered as genuine they will never reflect any honour upon his memory. Certain it is they have traces of genius ; and yet they are in no sense of the word, Good Poems : and indeed, the shocking indecency of fome, leads us to believe that, instead of being published by a friend, they were raked up by fome inveterate cnemy, whose malice survived the existence of its abjeet : at any rate the pretended friend would have performed a more confiftent part had he committed the manuscript to the flames. We select, as a specimen of his Lordship's poetical abilities, part of a performance called “The State of England in the year 2199.

" And now through broken paths and rugged ways,
Uncultivated regions, we advanc'd
To'ards fam'd Augusta's towers, on the Thanies
(Whofe clear broad it ream glides smoothly thro' the vale)
Embank'd, and ftretching o'er the level plain,
For many a mile her gilded fpires were seen,
While Britain yet was free-alas! how cha g’d,
How fallen from that envy'd ht; what tim

Sle

She rul'd the subje&t nations, and beheld
The Spaniard crou h beneath her spear, and all
The Gallic lillies crimson'd o'er with blood.
Extinguish'd are their glories, and her fun
That once enlighten'd Europe with his beams,
Sunk in the West, is set, and ne'er again
Shall o'er Britannia spread his orient rays !
These were my thoughts whilft thro' a falling heap
Of shapeless ruins far and wide diffus'd,
Paul's great cathedral, from her solid base,
High tow'ring to the sky, by heav'n's command.
Amidst the universal walte preferv'd.
Struck my altonith'd view! a fabric huge,
Of nobler structure than e'er Babylon,
Or glorious Rome with her marbled walls
Cou'd boast in days of yore; before the Goth
With barbarous hand, and uncontrouled fway,
Crush'd furious her magnificence, and swept
Temple, and tow'r, down to the ground. For not
The fam'd Pantheon, or the fculptur'd dome
Of

great Semiramis, nor holier Fane
Of once infpir'd Judea, to the eye
Of speculative wonder, did present
A more admir'd, or admirable view !
On this fair object my fix'd eye was kept
In pleasing meditation, whilft my guide,
A poor ematiate Briton, led me on
Through fireets, and squares, and falling palaces,
(Where here and there, à habitant was seen)
To where stood once amongft the peopled town
Th’ Exchange of London; where the golden streams
Of vivid commerce from the trading winds
Levant and Ponent, north and south effus'd,
Were in a centre fix'd : where ev'ry day
Ten thousand merchants, learned in the art
Of nursing, and improving wealth, convenid,
To settle on the wide and stable base
Of liberty, and public good, their own
And happy England's welfare.-- Then the pride
Of che commercial world, whose trade spread on
From southern Orelan, to the banks
Of cold Eltotiland, from sultry climes
And freezing regions, over distant feas
Brought gather'd wealth, and Afian treasures home!
Now onward we proceed into a field
O'ergrown with rank and noisome weeds, and beze
The honest Briton wiping from his eye
The starting tear, in broken fobs of grief,
And mingled indignation thus exclaim'd
• In this unwholfome fen, by the foul toad,

And

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