difgrace of many late hiftorical compofitions which their fond authors are eager to pass on the world as models of compofition.

What can the fober Reader think of the following paffage? The diffolution of abbies in England, and the fequeftration of their landed property had pledged the great, who fhared their spoils, to fupport every measure which might fecure the precarious tenure, and fruftrate the importunate probability of reftitution.'

There is not only a want of fimplicity and precifion, but, if we miftake not, there is a defect of grammatical accuracy in the following quotation:

The death of Charles the Firft fhowed how far the power of the people was formidable: the giddy conduct of his irrefolute fucceffor was a comment on the useful leffon, and convinced more fully the inefficacy of the regal power when opposed to the spirit of outrageous faction. The two extremes of authority and fubmiffion gave not leisure to decide the interefting fubjects of controverfy. Such a period was no time to carry with a high band a change in religion.'

We feldom point out thofe minutia that relate to style; but when an author appears to be above the ordinary class of writers, there is no defect too trifling to be noticed; for his errors may be copied, when his excellencies cannot be attained.

ART. VII. Florio: a Tale for Fine Gentlemen and Fine Ladies; and, the Bas Bleu; or Converfation. Two Poems. 4to. 35. Cadell. 1786.

66

HE ingenious writer of these Poems (Mifs More) has often captivated our hearts with tales of a charming fadnefs," and won our warmest approbation by ferious leffons of moral wisdom. She now attempts, with equal fuccefs, the ftrains of fprightly and good-humoured fatire. Of her muse it may be truly faid, Circum præcordia ludit; for, with Horatian gaiety, the entertains while the chaftifes.

In the first of these pieces, our Poetefs exposes the bad effects of modern modes of education, and the tyranny of fashion; and humouroufly ridicules the learning, opinions, and taste of a modern fine gentleman. In a pleafing tale, fhe reprefents thefe follies as fubdued by a tender paffion, and, with admirable effect, contrafts the charms of nature and fimplicity against thofe of Bon Ton.

This amufing poem abounds with brilliant paffages, which even retain much of their luftre when taken out of their proper places in the piece; an unequivocal proof, in our judgment, of fuperior merit.

The

The following is part of the character of Florio:
Poor FLORIO, at the ardent age
When youth fhou'd rush on Glory's stage;
When Life fhou'd open fresh and fair,
And Hope advance with fmiling air;
Of youthful gaiety bereft,

Had fcarce an unbroach'd pleasure left;
He found already to his coft,
The fhining glofs of life was loft;
And Pleafure was fo coy a prude,
She fled the more the more pursued.

But FLORIO knew the WORLD, that Science
Set Senfe and Learning at defiance;

He thought the world to him was known,
Whereas he only knew the Town;
In men this blunder ftill you find,
All think their little fet-Mankind.

Though high renown the youth had gain'd,
No flagrant crimes his life had ftain'd;
No tool of falsehood, flave of paffion,
But fpoilt by CUSTOM, and the FASHION.
Tho' known among a certain fet,

He did not like to be in debt;
He fhudder'd at the dicer's box,
Nor thought it very heterodox

That tradefmen fhou'd be fometimes paid,
And promifes be kept when made.
His utmost credit, as a finner,

Was that he fometimes fpoilt a dinner;
Ever, by fyftem, came too late,
And made his choiceft parties wait;
Yet 'twas a hopeful indication,
On which to found a reputation:
Small habits, well purfued betimes,
May reach the dignity of crimes.

His mornings were not spent in vice,
'Twas lounging, fauntering, eating ice:
Walk up and down St. James's Street,
Full fifty times the youth you'd meet:
He hated cards, detefted drinking,
But ftroll'd to fhun the toil of thinking;
'Twas doing nothing was his curfe,
Is there a vice can plague us worse ?'

The prefent rage for extracts and beauties is thus pleasantly ridiculed:

He ftudied while he drefs'd, for true 'tis
He read Compendiums, Extracts, Beauties,
Abregés, Dictionnaires, Recueils,
Mercures, Journaux, Extraits, and Feuilles :
No work in fubftance now is follow'd,

The Chemic Extract only's fwallow'd.

He

He lik'd thofe literary cooks

Who skim the cream of others' books,
And ruin half an Author's graces,

By plucking bons-mots from their places;
He wonders any writing sells,

But thefe fpic'd mushrooms and morells;
His palate these alone can touch,
Where every mouthful is bonne bouche.
Of each new Play he faw a part,
And all the Annas had by heart;
He found whatever they produce
Is fit for conversation-use;

Is ever ready for display;

A page would prime him for a day :

They cram not with a mafs of knowledge,
Which fmacks of toil, and smells of college,

Which in the memory useless lies,

And only makes men-good and wife.'

The notion of ftudying the claffics at the opera, is an admirable thought, well purfued in thefe lines :

*Pleas'd, to the opera they repair,
To get recruits of knowledge there;
Mythology gain at a glance,

And learn the Claffics from a dance :
For tho' they never car'd a groat,
How far'd the vent'rous Argonaut,
Yet, pleas'd, they fee MEDEA rise
On fiery dragons to the skies:
For DIDO, tho' they never knew her
As MARO's magic pencil drew her,
Fond as the was, and broken-hearted,
Her pious vagabond departed;
Yet, for DIDONE how they roar !
And Cara! Cara! loud encore.'

Antient and modern love are thus contrafted :

In that bleft age, for honour fam'd,
Love paid the homage beauty claim'd;
Not that infipid, daudling Cupid,
With heart fo hard, and air fo ftupid,
Who coldly courts the charms which lie
In Affectation's half-clos'd eye.
Love then was honeft, genuine paffion,
And manly gallantry the fashion;
Yet pure as ardent was the flame
Excited by the beauteous dame;
Hope cou'd fubfift on flender bounties,
And Courtiers gallop'd o'er two counties,
The Ball's fair partner to behold,
Or humbly hope, fhe caught no cold.
But mark how much Love's annals mènd!
Shou'd Beauty's Goddess now defcend;

Ол

On fome adventure fhou'd she come,
To grace a modifh drawing-room,
With radiant eye, and heavenly air;
What Beau would hand her to her chair?
Vain were that motion which betray'd,
The goddefs was no earth-born maid;
If noxious FARO's baleful fpright,
With rites infernal rul'd the night,
The group fo bent on play and pelf,
VENUS might call her doves herself.'

The eulogy on good-nature-but we meant rather to give a tafte of this entertaining poem to excite curiofity, than to gratify it by large extracts: for the reft, we must therefore refer our Readers to the piece itself.

The Bas Bleu is in the fame ftrain, but has fewer beauties.

ART. VIII. Poems, by Helen Maria Williams. 12mo.

6s. fewed. Cadell. 1786.

2 Vols.

ISS Williams is already known to the Public, as the writer of the Legendary Tale of Edwin and Eltruda, an Ode on the Peace, and an hiftorical poem, entitled, Peru; pieces which have very juftly obtained her no inconfiderable thare, of reputation. Thefe poems are now republifhed, after a careful revifal, with corrections and improvements: and to these the Author has added feveral others, of at leaft equal merit; of which the principal are, An American Tale; A Hymn to Senfibility; An Epifle to Dr. Moore, on his View of Society and Manners in France, Switzerland and Germany; Part of an irregular Fragment found in a dark Paffage in the Tower; Queen Mary's Complaint; and Euphelia, an Elegy.

Several of these poems (particularly the two firft, and the two laft, in the preceding lift) are ftrongly marked with the characters of fimplicity, tenderness, and harmony. In the Irregular Fragment the Writer rifes, on no feeble wing, into the regions of fancy and paffion. The piece has fo much merit, that we cannot deny ourselves the fatisfaction of presenting it to our Readers entire; after premifing, that it is founded on the idea of an apartment in the Tower, fhut up for ages, in which are asfembled the ghosts of all thofe whom hiftory relates to have been murdered in that ftate prifon, and of a murdered royal family, whose story is loft in the lapfe of time.

Part of an IRREGULAR FRAGMENT, found in a Dark Passage
in the Tower.
I.

Rife, winds of night! relentless tempests rife !
Rush from the troubled clouds, and o'er me roll;

In this chill paufe a deeper horror lies,

A wilder fear appals my fhudd'ring foul.

'Twas

'Twas on this day *, this hour accurst,

That nature starting from repofe
Heard the dire fhrieks of murder burst-
From infant innocence they rofe,

And fhook these folemn towers!
I fhudd'ring pafs that fatal room
For ages wrapt in central gloom;—
I fhudd'ring país that iron door

Which Fate perchance unlocks no more;

Death, fmear'd with blood, o'er the dark portal lowers.
II.

How fearfully my step refounds

Along thefe lonely bounds:

Spare, favage blaft! the taper's quiv'ring fires,
Deep in thefe gath'ring fhades its flame expires.
Ye hoft of heaven! the door recedes-
It mocks my grafp-what unfeen hands
Have burst its iron bands?

No mortal force this

gate unbarr'd
Where danger lives, which terrors guard
Dread powers! its fcreaming hinges clofe
On this dire fçene of impious deeds-
My feet are fix'd!-Difmay has bound
My ftep on this polluted ground-
But lo! the pitying moon, a line of light
Athwart the horrid darknefs dimly throws,
And from yon grated window chafes night.-
III.

Ye vifions that before me roll,

That freeze my blood, that shake my foul!
Are ye the phantoms of a dream?
Pale spectres! are ye what ye feem ?

They glide more near

Their forms unfold!

Fix'd are their eyes, on me they bend-
Their glaring look is cold!

And hark!-I hear

Sounds that the throbbing pulfe of life fufpend.
IV.

"No wild illufion cheats thy fight

"With fhapes that only live in night

"Mark the native glories fpread

"Around my bleeding brow!

"The crown of Albion wreath'd my head,

"And Gallia's lilies + twin'd below

"When my father shook his fpear,

"Her baffled hoft recoil'd with fear,

"When his banner fought the skies,

"Nor turn'd their fhrinking eyes: --

*The anniversary of the murder of Edward the Fifth, and his

brother Richard, Duke of York.

t Henry the Sixth, cro:vned when an infant, at Paris.

"Soon