I. All four couple both hands; the four gentlemen contre tchout letting the left hand go, and form a double crofs. II. The four gentlemen turn to the right, pass under the arm to their places. XIX. An Enquiry into the Nature, Rife, and Progrefs, of the Fevers most common in London, &c. By William Grant, M. D. 8vo. 5s. Cadell. When the readers of the metropolis are informed, that this article is in general executed with much ability, they will think it, we doubt not, worth a ferious perufal.Sydenham is the great guide by whom our author regulates his enquiry, and in the course of it, many observations will be found not only curious, but fome even enter taining on account of their whimsicality. XX. The female Monitor; to cubich is annexed a Treatife on Divorces, containing fingle Ladies. By a Clergyman of the very feasonabledvice to both married and Church of England, 12mo. is. 6d. Dixwell. We are at a lofs which most to condemn, the dullness, or the impudence of The Female Monitor; the defign is no lefs contemptible than the execution; and a scribbler must be wretched indeed, who makes himself equally reprchenfible as a man and a writer. POETICAL ESSAYS. The TEARS of the BRITISH MUSE. for me, No hope for me, in my lov'd native land, Lov'd native land-The land of Liberty? Should I alone of all the Sifter-Arts Be forc'd my antient honours to refign? A painful exile driv'n to foreign parts, With favage tribes, in favage haunts to pine ? Yet me the Picture hails her guide; my page The Sculptor's hand directs, my ftrains infcire: I form the Prince, the Patriot, and the Sage; And tune to lofty Hymns the facred lyre. What is Cæcilia's boasted Art to mine? Her fenfelefs founds, to my Cæleftial lays? To Reafon's rule 1 frame her touches fine, And higher fill her Diapafon raise. Why should I to my fifter Picture bend? Have Milton's Michael Julio's Gods outfbone ? Can Angelo's Laft Day with Young contend? Vies Paolo'st Cato with my Addifon? The trembling Arts long fear'd the Thunderer's nod, His awful brows lay unattempted long; Till deathlefs Homer dar'd defcribe the God, And Sculpture caught expression from the Song ! Of old, in fair Creation's youthful day, Ere man to venal arts had form'd his tongue, What vigorous Sense and Fancy bad him fay, Affifted by my powerful aid he fung. But fince the race are dwindled, fince their hours Are few and guilty on the darken'd earth, Corrupted hearts, falle tongues, and weaken'd pow'rs To cold and artificial Profe gave birth. In thofe first days I reign'd in gorgeous pride, And tow'red Memphis heard my lyre refound The Picture joyn'd, and Sculpture by her fide, To grace with emblem'd pomp the rites profound. Hai', antient Freedom, antient Glory, hajl! And hail, ye Suns, that bless'd my bright er days, [mail When Athens faw me cloath her chiefs in And bear them dauntless to the lifts of Praife! The Graces met me, by Ilyffus, wave. Old Tyber next pretents his ftately views, Till laft, where Albion's rocks the tempeft brave, [tish Mufe. I came, and fince am call'd the BriAnd from that time, that time, that happy Time [eyes, When Albion's fnowy cliffs firft met mine Than Mincius more or Arno's od'rous clime, My Camus now, and Ifis' bank I prize. Yet there, ev'n there, ev'n in those facred feats Rais'd to preferve the facred Mu ́e's lore, My trees neglected y eld but fickly sweets! The British Mufe pines on the British shore! • The reader will find an account of the picture of Julio Romano bere referred to, in Mexrefquieu's effuy on tafle. Rubens's bead of Cato, in the possession of the right boncurable the earl of. Meira. 1 Lucretius Lib. 1. v. 222. 08. 1771. reign. Save diftant gleams of Guelfo's glorious Long had I lain beneath the gloomy shade, But for those favourite Names, to whom I lent My skill, to whom my visions I convey'd, And led them forth, the nation's ornament! But chief, for that fam'd Line from Azzo fprung [pray'rs allow,) (Whom long may Heav'n to Britain's I oft appear'd, Germania's ftates among, And all unknown in Britain wander now! And muft I leave that race, for whom I chofe To twine the Chaplet of immortal Fame? For whom I cropt whatever Pindus shows, Or Peneus' bow'rs, or Pifa's honour'd stream? And must I Britain leave?-Can I forget, While round her breast the guardian oceans roll, Her virtues, for the world's great pattern set ? Her honeft eye transparent to the foul? No-I can ne'er forget-forget to tell In Selma, when the feaft of fhells was high, Where for the flaming hearth whole forefts fell, How honour'd, how carefs'd, how blefs'd was 1! There many a nymph array'd in Beauty's fmile, And ftripling trim my gambols joy'd to lead Aerial harps were fweetly heard the while, Andwanton Pleasures folick'd o'er the mead. Next Tityrus me woo'd (a reverend name) Who tun'd his reed to many a courtly tale And Hawthornden's § fweet-piping Shepherd [vale! came, Whofe loves enchanted Ora's beauteous Then l'beral Nature did to † One impart All the could give to grace her fav'rite fon. His was each key that opes the human heart; Himfelf a Mufe-For he and I were one! Inter days, my prefence | Collins fought, He heard my voice, my Songs he made his own; My lyre he ftrung, my magic fire he caught, Yet ah-how quick the tuneful Spirit's Яlown! And many more me lov'd, and all admir'd From earliest time to Glory's latest stageThe Songs I fung, the Themes that I infpir'd, The praife of Gods could Gods and men engage. Shall thofe, my fifters, born on me to wait, My younger fifters, handmaids of the Nine, Shall they ufurp my throne, affect my state, My ftately port, and majefty divine? Should I, who fung to Gods and Heroes old, To Freedom's gen'rous fons e'er fue in vain? I fir'd with gallant-thoughts the § chieftain bold, [plain! Who pour'd his life on Chalgrove's fatal When the third Edward, borne on Virtue's car, Scal'd the steep road to Glory's radiant dome, At Crefly I maintain'd th’unequal war, And brought the warrior crown'd by Con- The Great of every age my pow'r adore, pi's field, Philip The lonely night my Odes repeating o'er, His breaft to deeds of noble daring steel'd! Who will not turn his eye,where ++Colin pays His funeral tear to generous Sydney's herfe? Who can but look, when Cowley frames the lays, And Hervey fhines all-glorious in the [verfe? Still Akenfide the gentle Haftings fings, And Mason finds a friend in D'Arcy still. Forbid it, Virtue, that the best of kings Alone fhould flight the Mufe's heavenly skill! Forbid it, gracious Heav'n, forbid it, Truth, Forbid it, Piety, forbid it, Fame, Forbid it, Fate, that Guelfo's royal Youth Should change for mimic fires my living flame! Yet, ev'n the favage tribes my influence own, Beneath th'impetuous Sun, o'er realms of fnow, From Zembla's fky to Delli's blazing throne-Ev'n on the Tenglio-bank my roses blow! My rapturous ftrain the chill Siberian chears. The Arab harks, and turns his flying fteed. Me, in his foreft, Chili's native hears, For me, the generous fons of Bastia bleed! For me, gay Light affumes its varying dyes, And Nature opes her bofom of perfume. I footh the Virgin's care, the Matron's fighs; And wake, to wond'rous life, the filent tomb. The flaughter of the Welsh bards by Edward the Firft. + See Offian's poems. Hampden. Chaucer. Drummonds ** Brutus. tt Spenfer. + Shakespeare. William Hervey died at Cambridge about the year 1642. He was lamented in a beautiful poem by Cowley. The The hags, that guarded Gloriana's reign, And is no place for me in Britain's isle? And joy and glory grew beneath my smile, And foft-ey'd Peace, and Freedom's matchlefs fong! Is there no hope for me-She faid no moreBut tears and fighs fupprefs'd the notes divine. All pale fhe fell upon the blighted shore. To heal her woes, O mighty George, be thine! EPITAPH en Mr. PowELL's Monument at Briftol. THE monument reprefents Fame holding a medallion with a profile of POWELL; over which is the following infcription. WILLIAM POWELL, Efq; Died the 3d of July, 1769, His widow caufed this monument to be Beneath the above figure are the following lines and fignature. BRISTOL! to worth and genius ever juft, To thee our POWELL's dear remains we truft; Soft as the ftream thy facred springs impart, That heart which ev'ry tender feeling knew, -All elfe a bubble or an empty name. Yet, I confefs, I'm always loth On feeing Mifs BURTON perform the Part of By a LADY. [will, Not a rover as Farquhar's light fancy could move : Whofe |