to commend him for his former attention to politics : at the Lame time he affects to ridicule Dr. Franklin for his electrical dexterities, and to admire his present political pursuits. We will venture, notwithstanding, to say, that neither of these ingenious Doctors were more innocenily, ingeniously, and, we believe, usefully employed, than they were in their phvfical researches: from which the honour, with which their names will descend to pofterity, will be derived; and not from their political productions or party pursuits.


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Sir Martyn, a Poem, in the Manner of Spenser. By William

Julius Mickle. 4to. 2s. 6d. Flexney.

This Poem was first published in the year 1767, and has gone through several editions under the title of the CONCUBINE; à title, which the author here lufpects to have conveyed a very improper idea both of the fulject and spirit of the Poem. For our part, however, we think it conveyed full as proper an idea of the subject, viz. the inconveniences and ill-effets of the libertine state of Concubinage, as the title it now bears; unless there be some covert meaning, we do not underítand, in the name of Sir Martyn*; on the advantage of which the author congratulates himself. But the title is of little inportance : the work itself, which is of singular merit, is of much more. The Reviewers of the month, indeed, found some fault with the compofition, on its first appearance; which appears to have induced Mr. Mickle to add a prefatory address, to the present edition, by way of explaining the design of the piece, to which the laid Reviewers, iç seems, did not sufficiently attend. Be this as it may, we, ourlelves cannot speak of. the prece in more candid and critical cerms than does the author himself,

* ke is an established maxim in criticisin, That an intereiting moral is effential to a good poem, "The character of the Man of Fortune is of the utmost importance both in the political and moral world; to throw, therefore, a jull ridicule, on the pursuits and pleasures which atten prove fatal to ihe important virtues of ihe Gentleman, nivst-af.. ford an interesting moral, but it is the management of the Writer which alone mutt render it striking. Yei, hou ever lie may have failed in attaining this, the Author may decently aflert, that to paint salle pleasure as it is, ridiculous and conteinptible, alike deftructive to virtue and to happiness, was, at leat, the purpote of his l'oem.

This, at least, might have been suspected, if, initead of giving his poem the name of its herą, the author had named it atter the heroine ; quiltened her Betty, and let her taken the name of ber matter. Rev.

G 2

66 It

" It is also an established maxim in criticism, That the subject of a poein should be One; that every part should contribute to the completion of One design, which, properly pursued, will naturally diffuse itself into a regular Beginning, Middie, and End. Yet, in attaining this Unity of the whole, the necessary Regularity must still be poetical, for the spirit of poetry cannot exist under the shackles of logical or mathematical arrangeinent. Or, to use the words of a very eminent, Critic, “ As there must needs be a connexion, so that connexion will “ best answer its end, and the purpose of the writer, which, whilft it şi leads by a sure train of thinking to the conclufion in view, conceals “ itself all the while, and leaves to the Reader the fatisfaction of sup

plying the intermediate links, and joining together, in his own " mind, what is left in a seeming poiture of neglect and inconnec$ tion.”

If therefore the delineation of the character of the Man of Birth, who, with every advantage of natural abilities and amiable disposition, is at once lost to the Public and Himself; if this character has its beginning, middle; and end, the Poein has all the unity that propriety requires : how far fuch unity is attained, may perhaps be seen at one view in the following Argument,

"After an invocation to the Gerius of Spenfir, and propofition of the Jubjeet, the Knight's first attachment to bis Concubine, bis levity, love ef pleasure, and dissipation, with the influence over hin chick on this five aj Jimes, are parts which und ubedly conftitute a ju! Beginning.

The offi47s of this injluence, exemplified in the different parts of a gero tleman's r. lative charactt,-in bis domestic clegance of park, gardens, and house-in his unhappiness as a lovor, a parent, and a nian of letters--belaviour as a maser 10 bis touumts, as a frienit, and a brother--and in bis feelings in bis lours of retirement as a man obirth, and a patriot, naturally complete the Middle, to which an allegorical catastropie furnijbes. the proper and regular Eric

“ Some re::lons, perhaps, may be expected for having adopted the manner of Spenter. To propose a general use of it weie indeed highly abfurd; yet it may be prelumed there are foine subjects on which it may be used with advantage. But not to enter upon any formal de fence, the Author will only fav, That the fulness and wantonness er description, the quaint Simplicity, and above all, the ludicrous, of which the antique phraseology and manner of Spenser are fo happily and peculiarly luiceptible, inclined bim to elieem it not tolely as the beit, but the only made of compofition adapted to his subject."

As a specimen of the poem itself, we shall give our readers the description of the Cave of Discontent; of which an elegant design by Taylor, engraved by Grignion, ornaments the Ut e-page of the prelent çdition.

“.Deep in the wyldes of Faeric Lond it lay ;

Wide was the mouth, the roofe all rudely rent;
Some parts receive, and some exclude the Day,

For deepe teneath the hill its caverns went:

The ragged walls with lighining leend ybrent,
And loathlie vermin erer crept the flote:



Yet all in fight, with towres and castles gent,
A beauteous lawnskepe role afore the dore,
The which to view fo fayre the Captives grieved fore.
All by the gate, beneath a pine shade bare,

An owl-frequented bowre, fome tents were (pred;
Here fat a Throng, with eager furious stare

Rattling the dice; and there, with eyes halfe dead,

Saine drou fie Dronkards, looking black and red,
Dozd out their days, and by the path-way green

A sprightlie Troupe still onward heedleffe fped,
In chace of butterflies alert and keen;
Honours, and Wealth, and Powre, their butterflies I ween.
And oft, difguftfull of their various cares,

Into the Cave they wend with sullen pace;
Each to his meet apartment derrly fares :

Here, all in ragy, in piteous pligh- most bace,

The Dronkard litis; there, tenc with foul disgrace,
The thriftlefle Heir; and o'er his reeking blade

Red with his Friends heart gore, in woefull cace
The Duellist raves ; and there, on vetchie bed,
Crazd with his vaine pursuits, the Maniack bends his head.
Yet sound his gloomy cell, with chalk he scrawls

Ships, coaches, crownes, and eke the gallow trec ;
All that he wishd or teard his ghaftlie walls

Present him still, and mock his miserie.
And there, felf-doomd, his curled selte to.flee,
The Gamefter hangs in corner murk and dread;

Nigh to the ground bends his ungratious knee;
His droopiny armes and white-reclining head
Dim feen, cold Horror gleams athwart th' unhallowed shade.
Near the dreare gare, beneath the rified rock,

The Keeper of the Cave all haggard fact,
His pining corse a reitleile ague Thook,

And blistering fore: did all his cai kas frert :

All with himnelte he seemd in keen debate;
For still the muscles of his mouthe he drew

Ghailly and tell; and fill with deepe regrate
He lookd him round, as if his heart did rew
His former deeds, and mournd full fore his fores to view.
Yet not Hiin elfe, but Heavens Great King he blamd,

And dared his wisdom and his will arraign ;
For bold y he the ways of God blasphemd,

And of blind governaunce did loudly plain,

While vild Selie-picy wouid his eyes distuin ; As when an Wolfe, entrapt in village ground,

lo dread of death ygnaws his limb in twain, And views with scalling teares his bleeding wound: Surb tierce Selfe-pity Itill this Wights dire portaunce crownd.


Near by there food an hamlete in the dale,

Where, in the silver age, Content did wonne ;
This now was His: yet ali mote nought avail,

His loathing eyes that plice did ever shun;

But ever through his Neighbours lawns would run,
Where every goodlie fielde thrice goodlie seemd.

Such was this weary Wight all woe-begone;
Such was his life; and thus of things he deemd;
And fuchlike was his Cave, that all with forrowes teemd."

We cannot own ourselves fond of imitations of Spenser; and yet, in the particular case before us, we think Mr. Mickle's reasons for adopting such imitation fully sufficient. We would, nevertheless, caution poets of inferior talents how they follow liis example.


Travels through Spain and Portugal, in 1774; with a fort

Account of the Spanish Expedition again Algiers, in 1775: By Wajor William Dalrymple

. 4to. 7s. 6d. Almon. There is Tomething so pleasing in the relations of voyagers and travellers, that we do not wonder at the success of publications of this nature ; even when they contain nothing new but the manner of relating them. We do not mean the relations of your liderary voyagers, whose itineraries are fabricated by fire fide-travellers at home, who manufacture descriptions of piaces they never visited, converse with people they never law, and invant incidents and accidents that never happened, but in their own imagination. Major Dalrymple’s tra els have, be dle th d authenticity to recommend them, the advantage of relating a tour, feldon taken by English travellers. A Chart of his route is prefixed to the work, by which it appears that he fet out from Gibraltar, palling through Ronda, Ofsuna, Cordova, and Anduyer, to Madrid: from whence he travelled to Corunna and Ferrul, pasting through Avila, Salamanca, Zamora, Astorga, and I ugo. From Corunna, he returned to Gibraltar through Portugal, by the way of Oporto and Lilbon, re entering Spain at Bajados, and palling thence through Seville and Cadiz., to the place from which he fet oui. Of the incidents, that befell our traveller in this tour, there are few worth relating, as the reader may conclude from his thinking proper to record the following, which lieppened to hiin ai Temblequer.


“ Here the posada * was baci; but it afforded us an adventure, very fimilar in its nature, to that of Don Quixote and Maritornes; our fair-one was not quite so ugly as Cervantes's; but she was fully as amoroully inclined. We got a quarter with a recess, wherein two beds were placed ; as it was extremely hot, and the recess ítunk of all kinds of bad smells, I drew the mattrats off the platform, and placed it in the middle of the floor; now it happened that our quarter was a pallage rooin, at one end of which was a little apartment, raken up by a Calazero, going with an empty chaile to Toledo; he retired early to reit, and se were not long after him: at what hour the devil disturbed the repoie of the Calazero, I cannot deterinine; but in the midit of a moit profound fleep, I was awaked, and almost crushed to death, by an amazing weight falling across me; fo foon as I could speak, I roared out luftily, for an initant, when I was relieved from my burthen, and faluted by a hollow and deep-toned voice, with Perdon V. M. Cavallero, which was repeated several times; I was too much Aurried to think of Spanith execra:ions ; but I cused moit heartily in English-at lait, recollecting myelt, I asked, Que quiere V. M. ? Nada, replied the voice, Voi a mi quarto Siñor. Va V. M. al Demonio, says I, and then turned myfelt to fieep; when i was again disturbed by naked foot, which gave me a lap in the face ': Quien es, fays I, loudly; a female voice replied, Hu-jh.. I then, in a lower, and more gentle tone, alked, Quiere V. M. algo? at the fame time putting my hand out of bed, to teel whether it were a substance or a shade, that had accosted me; I perceived a glimmering light coming towards me, held out by the witch of Endor, in a yellow petticoat. The girl was fairly caught, and all the powers of eloquence c':uld not prove the contrary. The picture was a good one: the old beldamn, with a thin, trivelled, yellow countenance, and clamorous voice, expofing, by the dim light of a halt extinguished lamp, Maritorne’s charms, which were concealed by the Thite only; with such a Mift, and such charms! the matter fitting up in bed, endeavouring 10 vindicate his conduct; and the servant, awaked out of his Sleep, with a blue hanıkerchief tied about his head, in amazement at the icene: It being now three o'clock, it was in vain to reit again, so we fed our cattle, the Calazero his mules, and at four we set out'; the latter fuiled in his intrigue, of which I had only the reputation. Thus, we left the poor disappointed girl to be feverely lectured by the jealous Jezabel hér miilreis, who was fo old, that the had quite forgot the time when she used to play the same pranks. Sport on, ye amorous Caitiliars ; nor lec the ill-judged caution of a gloomy Englishman deprive you of thole transports he cannot enjoy."

Of the King and Court of Madrid our traveiler gives the following defcription.

" I was several times at court, during its residence here: all the royal family dine publicly in feparate rooms; and it is the etiqurite to

Posada or Inn. By this being said to be fimply bad, it must hare been comparatively tolerable; our traveller's contant complaint being against the badness of the Inns: his encountering of which he was fo lingwarly unlucky as to inect several times with the worst in the wo.ld.

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