"O tell the extacy which now they fhar'd, Arm wreath'd in arm, and foul to foul conjoin'd!' A dreadful ftorm of thunder, lightning, and rain, comes on. Affrighted at perceiving the electric fire darting round Agenor, Fanny flies in terror, where ر -darkness wrapt The fullen pool.' Agenor hears a plunge in the contiguous ftream,' and flies to her affiftance. • with eager ftretch That hook the pool he fwam;' but on this brook, ftream, or pool, for it is diftinguished by each appellation, a different way Poor Fanny floated!-but at length, with voice In his dear arms, O let me breathe my last!" Agenor comes too late, and his forrow terminates in phrenzy. The ftory is by no means artificially conducted. A word, a fcream of Fanny's, to have informed Agenor where she was, would have been more confiftent with probability than the speech she makes while drowning, Theodorus, ftill under the guidance of Fancy, continues to depicture various scenes in warm and glowing, perhaps sometimes in glaring, colours. He invokes the Mufes; and celebrates their power in foothing or directing, in a proper manner, the turbulent paffions; and exciting and invigorating thofe of a more amiable nature. They descend in imagination before him. An ode is introduced, as fung by them, allufive to his fituation, the conclud ing image of which is prettily expreffed. Abfence, tho' it wounds, endears, Soft its forrows, fweet its tears; Pains that pleafe, and joys that weep, Trickle like healing balm, and o'er the bofom creep. Love and Sorrow, twins, were born On a fhining, fhow'ry morn, 'Twas in prime of April weather, When it thone and rain'd together; He who never forrow knew, Never felt affections true; Never felt true paffion's power, Love's fun and dew combine, to nurse the tender flow'r.' Cleone Cleone approaches, and Theodorus concludes the poem by comparing himself to a turtle, that, during the abfence of his mate, fooths his forrows by a foft confolatory fong; but at the fight of her, Then glad he gives his plumage to the breeze, And fprings along to welcome her return.' The author informs us that this poem was no hafty production, but the labour of three years. This, though certainly a compliment to the public tafte, renders its defects, however trivial, more juftly liable to critical observation. We have felected fome few paffages that we thought objectionable, and others might be added. The last line of the poem, for inftance, is by no means happily expreffed. To fpring along,' though defcriptive of speed, gives an inadequate idea of flight. It might, with propriety, be applied to the light bounding of a hare or greyhound, but not to the fmooth motion of a bird. In more than one place the author, poffibly with a view to give his ftyle a refemblance of Milton's, affects a ftudied negligence of the laws of verfification. Withdrawn, thus tuned th' enthufaft lay, And next appear'd, winding th' eventful avenue.' < In the first of these lines, enthufiaftic would have founded better than enthufiaft;' it would have conveyed the fame mean ing; and the epithet eventful' in the fecond, not only militates against metrical law, but injures the fenfe, as the * fact alluded to, Fanny's death, did not happen in or near the avenue. To aim at the imitation of Milton's beauties, is a laudable ambition; but to copy his harsh expreffions, and unpolished numbers, which doubtless proceeded not from defign but negligence and inattention, betrays a want of judgment. This fault, however, is feldom to be found in our author; he is more often tco ftudiously polished and ornamental. On the whole, there is confiderable merit in this performance; and the drawings of + Mr. Lawrence, which accompany it, are executed in a very picafing manner. Eugenius or, Anecdotes of the Golden Vale: an embellished Narrative of real Fact. 2 Vols. 12mo. 5. ferved. Dodsley. WE are indebted for this pleafing performance to the fame author who has often entertained us with obfervations dictated by good sense, and a cultivated tafte. We allude to old. See page 32. The author informs us that this ingenious artiît is now but fixteen years the the Spiritual Quixote, Columella, Euphrofyne, and fome other publications of fancy and good-humour: nor are the Anec-, dotes of Eugenius of lefs importance; for to fmooth the wrink led brow of care, to beguile the heavy hours of fufpence, or feduce the reflefs foul for a moment from its anxious folicitudes, is an important task, and one in which humanity would wish to be employed. 1 The chief opinion which the author endeavours to inculcate is, that the prefent age improves in many refpects; and that the manners of our cotemporaries are, at leaft, not altered for the worfe.' We have lately inclined to the fame opinion, in fubjects of literature; and perhaps, if the'vices and follies of the laft age are compared, in cumulo, with those of the prefent, they may prefent a more fhocking picture than we can now furnish. Avarice and hypocrify are certainly not among the latter. But let us hear our author: we can only find room for fome parts of his argument. Reafon has certainly gained ground, though deep learning may be upon the decline; many prejudices are worn off, and many abfurd cuftoms laid afide; our manners are evidently more polished, and I think not more corrupt, than in the days of our youth. If we have fewer foxhunters, we have fewer hard drinkers; if our country gentlemen live more in public places, they drink lefs in private parties, than heretofore. As to our statefmen, orators, and poets,-if we must defcend to particulars, without regard to party-though we have no Walpoles, Pulteneys, or Bolingbrokes, we have men not lefs honeft, not lefs able: we have a Th-low, a C-md-n, a N-th, a Charles F-x, and a fecond William P-tt. If we have not a Swift, an Addison, or a Pope, we have an H-rd, the W-rtons, and an H-yley, with many others not inferior to them; not to mention many female writers, fuperior to thofe of any age, ancient or modern. In point of taste and fkill in the polite arts, you will hardly difpute our fuperiority to the laft age; nor put even Pope's hero, Jervas, in competition with Reynolds or Gainfborough; or Hogarth himself with Harry B-nbury. Even our fair ladies, though fome few, with a noble contempt of the laws of decency as well as of chastity, have dif tinguished themselves in the annals of gallantry; and though they have too generally adopted the high ton of a bold mafculine air and ambiguous drefs; yet I question whether we have not in high life as many, or more examples of conjugal fidelity, maternal tenderness, and domeftic economy, as in the the former part of this, or in the latter part of the laft century. He oppofes the arguments drawn from the licentiousness of fome modern fashionable females, in the following manner. The Peerage of Great Britain, continues he, in conjunction with the Irish nobility, many of whom refide in England, amount, I believe, to near five hundred families: and our commoners of high rank, and poffeffed of capital fortunes, and who alfo figure in high life, are almoft innumerable. Now among thefe people of diftinction, who exhibit themselves on the theatre of the polite world, we hear of two or three ladies, in two or three years, perhaps, who from mere wantonnefs and love of variety, or from being unfuitably matched by their parents--and fometimes, I fear, from the ill ufage of their tyrannical mafters-violate their conjugal engagements, feparate from their hufbands, become the fubject of public fpeculation, and fill every news-paper with licentious anecdotes, criminal adventures, and trials for incontinency. But we hear nothing all this while, of the hundreds and thousands of virtuous wives, tender mothers, or dutiful daughfequeftered ters, who, in the Wives paths of life, discharge their duty in their feveral relations and departments without noife or oftentation. Neither are the trials of thefe few fair culprits, in this age, ftained with the guilt of poifoning or affaffinations; crimes fhocking to humanity, with which history abounds; and which have furnished the fubjects of tragedy, in earlier periods, in our own country, as well as in other parts of Europe, and amongst the ancient celebrated commonwealths of Greece and Rome.' Perhaps it is not difficult to draw the balance; but it will be augmented or diminished by the mind of the accomptant. Thofe who pafs cheerily through the vale of life, without feeling its diftreffes or bearing its burthens, will increase the favourable fum: while thofe who fink under disease, whose pain, either of body or mind, cats a gloomy fhade on their profpects, and feparates their minutes by imaginary hours, will form a different opinion. Truth, as ufual, muft lie between ; and when we weigh the facts in that balance, we think, with our author, that we have feen worfe times; but he must al'low us to add, that we wish for better. The ftory, in general, is fimple, pleasing, and tender. The author calls it an embellished narrative; it is not above truth; it is not ornamented with fplendid imagery, or refined by an affected delicacy; it feems to contain real facts in difguife. We We have read the anecdotes with pleasure: they fpeak to the heart; and the heart which can feel will applaud them. Many judicious remarks are interfperfed in the narrative, with which we generally agree; but we cannot take them from their proper place. The flower which ornaments a bouquet, from the combination or contraft of its colours with thofe which furround it, may not be particularly ftriking, when separated. Yet we cannot help tranfcribing our author's fentiments with respect to the poetical Milk-woman: we tranfcribe, because we wish strongly to enforce them. A fcene of this kind difcovered lately to the benevolent Mr. B. and that foul of fenfibility Mrs. H. M-re, the ingenious and virtuous Briftol milk-woman; whom they have nobly relieved, and placed above want, by the affiftance of lady B —, Mrs. M—t—gue, and other friends; and have left her in a fituation to court the mufes at her leifure. But as Apollo himself does not always ftring his bow,”—and as verfe, in this taftelefs age, is not always a marketable commodity, it would not be amifs, if Mrs. Yearfly had two ftrings to her bow, and (I speak it seriously) were inftructed to make cheesecakes and cuftards with her milk, as well as to make verses; in which cafe, any productions of her muse, which lay upon her hands, might be usefully employed in protecting the more lucrative productions of her oven.' Thefe volumes of our author are ornamented, like his other works, by the elegant pencil of Mr. Bampfylde,➡' arcades ambo:' a kindred tafte feems to have united them; and the labours of each reflect a luftre on the other. Paley's Principles of Moral and Political Philofophy. (Concluded, from p. 37.) AFTER having examined the relative duties both deter minate and indeterminate, our very candid and intelligent author confiders the duties to ourselves; that is, thofe duties which have our well-being for their object, and which unfortunately we are leaft attentive to. The regard to be paid to them is alfo of confequence to fociety in general, yet, in fome inftances they may not do any great injury to our fellow-creatures, though in all they are hurtful to ourfelves. Under this head Mr. Paley examines the Rights of Self-defence, Drunkenness, and Suicide. The Rights of Selfdefence are properly ftated, and no exigence is fuppofed by our author to juftify a perfon in taking another's life, but when life and perhaps chastity are in danger, and every method |