willing," (p. 211.) it seems that there has been some difference between Lady M. W. Montagu and Sir W. Young; but if the lady was anxious to disown the former, the latter is not a song, I think, for a lady, or any one, to be anxious to

avow.

The next, "When first I sought fair CÆLIA's love," (p. 212.) is both profligate and profane. "Corinna cost me many a prayer," (p. 213.) is unprincipled and coarse.

"Take, oh take those lips away", (p. 214.) the description is of too sensual a nature.

The Song "On a Lady's Girdle.” (p. 216.)

conducing to our Virtue and Perfections to descend upon us indeed from Heaven. Yet not from that Heaven where the Sun and other Luminous Bodies move, but from Above. (For this peculiar Energy some have attributed to that Word Above.) They come down from Him, who dwells in those that (according to a known distinction in use with the Jews) are called the Highest Heavens. Even from Him, who is truly stiled the Father of Lights, as he created and constituted those Lights and their Influences."

Should it be said that this doctrine of the influence of the stars is now exploded, and may therefore be admitted in poetry as a harmless play of the fancy, yet I cannot but think that the frequent repetition of such expressions has a bad effect upon some minds. And there is a blameable levity in attributing, though in jest, to stars or such like imaginary causes those high powers of superintendence and government, which we know belong only to one Supreme Being.

contains insinuations of a very voluptuous and pernicious kind.

"Go, lovely Rose!" by Waller, (p. 216.) is given in the third volume of my Collection, with an additional verse by the late amiable and lamented Henry Kirke White, which gives it greater value.

"If truth can fix thy wavering heart," by Garrick, (p. 217.) is not bad; but there appears to me to be something too light in the last verse in mentioning" Heaven and Sylvia” together, wishing them to "grant his suit."

The Song, "All my past life is mine no more," by Rochester, (p. 219.) where he says,

If I, by miracle, can be

This livelong minute true to thee,

'Tis all that heaven allows.

is both profane and profligate.

To this Song, and the others beginning in p. 129. 199. 201. 223. 240 and 241 by the Wits of Charles the Second's days, I must add the lines upon this subject from Cowper's Table Talk; where, giving a sketch of the History of Poetry, he mentions the age of Puritanism and the succeeding one of licentiousness :

When Cromwell fought for power, and while he reign'd
The proud protector of the pow'r he gain'd,

Religion harsh, intolerant, austere,

Parent of manners like herself severe,

Drew a rough copy of the Christian face
Without the smile, the sweetness, or the grace;
The dark and sullen humour of the time
Judg'd ev'ry effort of the muse a crime;
Verse, in the finest mould of fancy cast,
Was lumber in an age so void of taste:
But, when the second Charles assum'd the sway,
And arts reviv'd beneath a softer day,
Then, like a bow long forc'd into a curve,

The mind, releas'd from too constrain'd a nerve,
Flew to its first position with a spring

That made the vaulted roofs of pleasure ring.
His court, the dissolute and hateful school
Of wantonness, where vice was taught by rule,
Swarm'd with a scribbling herd, as deep inlaid
With brutal lust as ever Circe made.
From these a long succession, in the rage
Of rank obscenity, debauch'd their age;
Nor ceas'd, till ever anxious to redress
Th' abuses of her sacred charge, the press,
The muse instructed a well-nurtur'd train,
Of abler votaries to cleanse the stain,
And claim the palm for purity of song,
That lewdness had usurp'd and worn so long.

Line 610, &c.

"Swain, thy hopeless passion smother," (p. 221.) is far too warmly descriptive.

"Love's a dream of mighty treasure", (p. 223.) gives a very false and degrading picture of love.

"Chloe's the wonder of her sex," (p. 223.) This vicious song is included in the censure drawn (p. 268.) from Cowper's Table Talk. On the merits of the Song, "Pretty Parrott,

say, when I was away", (p. 224.) I am sorry I cannot agree in opinion with you, Sir. For I think, it less "merits preservation", than oblivion, for the ideas to which it leads.

"Why will Delia thus retire,” (p. 225.) treats serious things lightly; and the last stanza but one adds to levity a lesson decidedly immoral and pernicious :

All the morals that they teach us
Never cured a sorrow yet:
Choose among the pretty fellows

One of humour, youth and wit.

In "O clear that cruel doubting brow!" (p. 227.) I object to the sentiment

-Jove but laughs at lovers' oaths,

And lovers' perjuries."

the song is light throughout: it casts a discredit on real virtues, and profanely jests upon a serious oath.

The Song, "When Orpheus went down to the regions below," (p. 228.) I consider as a libel upon "Connubial love", and one of those songs which tends to set marriage in an unfavourable point of view; a view of it which is the cause of much unhappiness in the world. Some may say, the whole Song is a mere joke. To me it appears a very bad one, and bids fair to have upon some minds such effect as I have

described.

To this it adds a ludicrous idea of what is most serious, the place of punishment for the wicked: besides the introduction of a heathen deity, as presiding in such place.

The same may be said of the next, ❝ Vain are the charms of white and red," (p. 228.) as far as relates to the effect upon the married state.

The next "Chloe brisk and gay appears," (p. 229.) with two others soon following, "Celia, hoard thy charms no more," (p. 232.) and "Celia, too late you would repent;" (p. 234.) come all under the far too frequent, but (I think) just charge of profligacy.

"Say, lovely dream, where could'st thou find", (p. 238.) has in the second verse

In heav'n itself thou sure wert drest

With that angel-like disguise.

The Songs at pages 240 and 241 are noticed before, see p. 268.

In these two Songs, "She loves, and she confesses too" and ""Tis now, since I sat down before" but especially in the first, Honour is spoken of in very disparaging terms. What is called Honour by many persons is certainly a phantom, a noisy nothing, a stalking shade (p. 240.) and a principle of pride. (p. 242.) But there is an Honour, likewise, which is "an