it is not adviseable to break unnecessarily into the analogy of
the words in -ic. Catholic is indeed an allowed exception, but
apostolic is not; and many who read it apóftolic in that place, call
it apostólic when it occurs elsewhere.'

Critique. So lately as when Pope wrote, this word was
not distinguihed by the accent from crític:
But you with pleasure own your errors past,
And make each day a critique on the lait. Ef. on Crit. 1. 570.
Also, Not that my quill to crítiques was confin'd.

Johnson does not even distinguish these two words by the orthography, but spells both critick; which is surely a fault, confidering that they are now pronounced, as well as accented, differently.

* E láy, fubftantive :
That loit, he keeps his chamber, reads cláys.

B. Johnson, Epigr. xii.
Yet modestly he does his work survey,
And calls a finish'd poem an clay. Dryden, Verses to Ld. Rofc.
Happy the author whose correct essay
Repairs so well our old Horatian way. Rosc. Er.on Tran. Verse.
Fruitless our hopes, tho' pious our efáys. Smith.

Johnson says, “ the accent is used on either syllable.” But
I believe the accent here exemplified is now perfectly obsolete.'

• Pérfume, both verb and substantive :
Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great. 2 Hen. IV, Actii.
Three April pérfumes in three hot Junes burn'd. Shaks. Son. 104.
And in some perfumes there is more delight. Ib. 130.

But in the following passage we find the accent of the verb
placed as it now is used :
The canker blooms have full as deep a dye
As the perfúmed tincture of the roses. Shaksp. Sonnet 54.
And the substantive is so used by Milton :

Now gentle gales
Fanning their odoriferous wings, difpenfe
Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole
Those balmy spoils. --

Par. Loft, iv. 158.'
This is only a foort specimen of our author's lift, which is
curious and useful, and perhaps the first of the kind that has
been attempted.

Though we may probably differ from this learned writer in some points which he has discussed in this treatise, yet we freely applaud his performance in general, as calculated to do eminent service to English literature, by exhibiting a greater variety of critical observations on the pronunciation of our language, than we have met with in any former publication.

1

Eleanora;

1

Eleanora : from the Sorrows of Werter. A Tale, 2 Vols.

Small 8vo. 55. fewed. Robinson. T HERE is no work more captivating than the Sorrows of

Werter. Its warm animated language, the strong expressive feelings of a heart torn with anguish, and of resolution weakened by distress, allures with irresistible power ; with a power which we fear has sometimes led the reader of a congenial foul to a similar fate. On these and many other accounts, it is poison to a mind diseased ; and may contribute with the proud man's contumelies,' or the pangs of defpifed love,' to hurry a despairing wretch to the extreme verge. The volumes before us seem to be designed as an antidote to the poison ; but, like other antidotes, may come too late: they are certainly not dangerous ; and they possess a power of attraction by the same means, and in a degree little inferior, to the Sorrows of Werter.

The story is founded on a short fentence in the latter work: Werter, before his acquaintance with Charlotte, was attached to Julia ; and her sister Leonora fips of the intoxicating draught, under the guise of friendship. Fatal delufion! but though so often fatal, the phantom continues to allure and to betray. The unfortunate Leonora carries the wound in her heart, and it rankles amidst the gaieties of a court, and the splendours of a midnight ball. Werter is-supposed culpable in cherishing this fond delusion ; but he leaves her without an explanation. He retires to the fatal spot, where he sees Charlotte, and finishes his love only with his life. The event is communicated to Leonora, and snaps the thread, already weakened by the continuance of a violent, but hopeless, passion.

This is a short outline of the novel, which is related with much address, and an intimate acquaintance with the human heart. It is an interesting story; and the Episode of Bertha and Conrade, and the little History of Claude and Isabella, are extremely beautiful. We think we perceive a moral, which we wish had been more pointedly insisted on. Men are often faulty in appearing particularly attentive, without designing to become lovers; and on the other hand women are often too credulous. There is an attractive power which frequently hurries us beyond ourselves : it is a momentary delirium, a temporary intoxication, which, though in itself a fault if pussued, in the more serious moments, would lead to a crime more dangerous than the mode of conduct so generally tigmatized as difhonourable. In the situation of Leonora, the attentions of Werter were defensible; and the ought to have reflected, that her passion began before the death of Julia. May this guard some fond female against a too eały belief!

As we can extract the following pleasing allegory, with little violence to the fory, we shall insert it as a specimen.

• How many happy hours have we paffed in this bowerhours never to be recalled — with what winged speed ye flew ! --and now every leaf spoke to my heart.-The difpofition of the boughs, which hung neglected, or only caught up here and there by the tendrils of a vine which had made its way through the lattice—had something fo mournful, fo pathetically touching in their appearance, that I could not withstand the sensations they raised in me.--I was overpowered by the weight of my afflictions--why is it that forrow takes such ftrong hold upon me? Is' calamity to be my guide through life : -I am not naturally of a melancholy turn; there was a time when chearfulness danced before me- -Hope was on my right-hand and Contentment on my left. Igave myself up to their protection--we rushed giddily after our conductress.Through what flowery paths she led us! whatever we saw was worthy of our attention, every trifle amused us. At the altar of Religion we bowed our heads, our hearts hailed her as our superior patroness--we offered gratefully our vows at her thrine. She received our sacrifices, and smiled on us with that benignity which can exalt the human heart to such a pitch of sublimity. My friend, we met with Love; he reduced Chearfulness from us, and he supplied her place ;-at first we scarcely perceived the change ; but we had not wandered long, when the boy grew captious. Hope trembled and turned pale. She faw, and warned me of my danger : Love ftruck at her, and the fled, Contentment vanished. I would have followed, but with artful, with flowery bands he detained me. How soft, how gentle, he was then to me ;-but foon, what a tyrant did he become ! What would I not have given to have broken my fetters !-yet now—that Despair has driven him from my heart- am I more at ease ?Lam convinced we know not what is best for us, and our part is only to submit with resignation to the events which the Most High fhall judge we are capable of supporting.'

1

MONTHLY CATALOGUE.

· PO E T RY. The Difoanded Subaltern : an Epifle from the Camp at Lenham.

Second Edition. Is. 6d. Flexney.
E

in volume lvi. page 148. It is now enlarged and improved.

Rational

We gave some account of this very pleafing performance

Is. 6d,

Rational Amusements, being a Colle&tion of Original Miscellanies,

8vo.

Earle. This is one of those milk and water productions of which little can be said, either good or bad: we meet with nothing strikingly defective, much less particularly beautiful. Being consequently very ill calculated to afford food for criti. cism, we shall dismiss it without farcher notice. The Paphiad; or, Kensington-Gardens. 4to. 15.6d. Harlowe.

The principal design of this poem is to praise the duchess of Devon ihire, to whom it is dedicated. The author first introduces us to the aerial attendants of Venus, who are summoned to appear before their mistress at the Paphian court. The following description of the bower, the goddess, and those at. tendants will, we apprehend, please the reader, notwithstanding the construction of the verbs in some of the concluding lines is not ftrictly grammatical.

• In the sweet shade of Paphos' fragrant wood,
A secret bower of cluster'd myrtles stood :
Across the dome two breathing woodbines twine ;
The rose, the jessamine, their essence join
To feast the senle ; here, springing ever new,
The modest lily, and the violet blew :
All Flora's beauties grac'd the sacred grove,
Where gentle Venus held the court of Love.

High on a throne, of beaten roses made,
The smiling queen her airy troops survey'd :
Close by her side the blooming Graces ftood,
Her form with wonder, and with envy

view'd ;
Though fair each maid, her beauty, beaming far,
Flah'd like a planet o’er each meaner star.
A flowery wreath her golden ringlets grac’d,
The myftic ceftus bound her taper waist;
Each charm, just shaded by the purple vest,
Through the thin veil transparent stood confeft;
And so contriv'd, that what might seem conceal'd,
Shone itill the more luxuriantly reveald.

• Beneath a fhade her iv'ry chariot stood;
With purest gold the burnish'd axle glow'd ;
Loose, and unharness’d, few the milk.white doves,
Sport in the air, or wanton with the Loves.

• The little archer by his mother fat :
His guards attend in all the

pomp

of state ; Gay on the vines their golden quivers hung,

Untipt their arrows, and their bows untrung.' Venus informs her court, that since the time when Paris beHowed on her the golden apple, her votaries had considered her in a very improper light, as the tutelary divinity of luft, noc of virtuous love : that, to vindicate her character, and convince

them of the contrary, she was determined to depute a LIVING
belle as her vicegerent below.

• She fhall preside o'er every mortal feene,
And fix her standard as the Paphian queen :
Let her my graces, pleasures, smiles retain ;
The humble virtues too shall fwell her train.
She must have rank; be noble in her birth;
(The orld, we know, contemns untitled worth :)
She shall assuage this rage of lust below;

Each, to be fair, muit then be virtuous too.'
To execute this design she proposes an expedition to Ken.
fington-gardens. She and her suite accordingly take their in-
visible Aand under a large tree, and Venus describes the cha-
racter of the British beauties as they pass in review before
them. Some are censured, but the generality highly, and the
duchess, superabundantly praised. Venus declares, that her
charms, had the made her appearance on mount lda, would
have exceeded those of all the three contending goddesses
united, and that her virtues would have reclaimed Paris, and
• saved the fate of Troy. The prize is accordingly bestowed
on her, and the celestial powers summoned to attend the
'new-made deity,' of whom we are just afterwards told that

immortality is not her own.'
The conclusion, indeed, of this poem is not equal to its be-
ginning, which, though not always correct, is elegant and pleaf-
ingly fanciful. When the Graces and Loves assemble round
the duchess, the image, instead of being beautiful, is truly lu-
dicrous.

• None want a place for each a beauty found ;
Fearless they circle, and adhere around.
A smile in rapture plays about her face,
Whilst to her bofom steals a tempting grace :
She gathers numbers as she moves along,
And in herself becomes a moving throng.
(All this unseen by every mortal eye,

For Paphian acts are all a mystery.)'
The following vindication of the duchess against the 'tooth-
less prudes,' who are supposed to have arraigned her conduct,
ftands in the same predicament.

• Know then, ye sputtering, spiteful, cattish race,
That envy ever brings its own disgrace:
If from her height she stoop'd in freedom's cause,
Her patriot zeal deserv'd a world's applause ;
Nor meanly dare her character to scan :

Know-Liberty the lov'd—not Carlo Chan.'
The introduction of the burlesque title Carlo Chan, turns to
jest the defence that seems to have been very seriously in-
tended.

Pittua