We could even have pardoned Mr. Wooll, if he had circumscribed the range of his choice within stil narrower bounds; since of more than thirty pieces which he has culled, scarcely any can be ranked among poems of the first order. As he is pleased to bestow on the Dying Indian' the expres sion of inimitably characteristic,' we shall give it entire: THE DYING INDIAN. The dart of Izdabel prevails! 'twas dipt On heedless hunters; where ananas bloom Thrice in each moon; where rivers smoothly glide, I feel the venom busy in my breast; Approach, and bring my crown, deck'd with the teeth 1 mark'd the spot where they interr'd this traitor, Thy much lov'd mother from the desart woods, 1 go! great Copac beckons me! Farewell!' We add the Ode to Music,' on account of its brevity and classical flavour: "Queen of every moving measure, Of those, whom death, or absence parts, Q_4 The The Ode to Fancy' is not devoid of spirit: but most of the other effusions are correctly tame, and excite little emotion.Ranelagh-house, a satire,' is not an unhappy imitation of Le Sage's manner, and agreeably enlivens the general gravity of the volume. We shall transcribe a few sentences, which the author of le Diable Boiteux would not have disclaimed: That pert young fellow with a black ribbon round his neck. in a fustian frock with very short skirts, and a very broad brim'd hat in an affected impudent cock, is a Templar, who having read all the modern comedies and farces, the Spectators, Dryden's prefaces and dedications, and having once squeez'd out a prologue to a play that was damn'd, sets up for a critic and a wit. His cat-call is generally heard the first in the pit; he is the Coryphæus of those unmannerly disturbers of the public. He is the most despicable thing that ever disgraced humanity. He rises at twelve at noon, saunters to son.c coffee-house till one, dresses and has dined by four, then to the coffee-house again, after that to the play for two acts, after that takes a round through all the bagnios and brothels in Covent Gar den, kicks whores, and gets drunk with arrack punch, staggers home at three in the morning, quarrels with the watch, and breaks lamps. Hæc est vita solutorum. And this is a compleat and exact journal of that kind of animal, which by the bye pretends to have a soul, called a Templar. One of the ladies he is talking to is extravagantly fond of cats and lapdogs; a large hound that she hugs and kisses all day, has the honour to lie with her all night. She is a lady of great benevolence to the brute creation. She at this time carries a squirrel in her pocket, and if you observe, has just put in her finger, that the dear little favourite may give her an amorous bite. The other is a prodigious devotee, and a great reader of Thomas à Kempis: she has had thoughts of retiring from the world into some grotto in a desert, and to carry nothing with her but a lamp and a death's head: I wonder to see her here, but I suppose she comes to make grave reflections on the vanity of all pleasures and earthly amusements. She constantly frequents a church in the City, where there is a handsome young lecturer, who preaches prettily, has a graceful lisping delivery, and abounds in the most smart antitheses, most elegant and ingenious conceits, and the best turned periods imaginable. He never frightens his fair audience with the mentioning any of my fraternity, but, if I may so say, strews the path to Heaven with flowers. But hold a little: by Proserpine, I spy yonder the very man I am speaking of; 'tis he with a smooth round face, and a neck cloth so white and so well plaited under his florid double chin. He preach'd last Sunday in a silk gown, with a lawn handkerchief in his hand, and a fine diamond ring upon his finger, upon this well chosen text;And why take ye thought for raiment?" He bows so well, and flatters so smoothly, and has so little spirit of honesty, that he will certainly be a dean.' Of the letters, many which are trifling, or merely complimen tary, and some which relate to transactions that can no longer interest interest the public, might have been spared. Others, however, afford amiable views of character, or affecting sentiments, and form a valuable part of the publication. Dr. W.'s own letters, almost entirely addressed to his brother, are in general remarkable only for their affection. Though we have scarcely left. space for additional extracts, we cannot deny ourselves the gra tification of transcribing two or three of the most impressive of these epistles: Sir, DEAN SWIFT TO AT LYNN. London, Dec. 26, 1711. That you may not be surprized with a letter from a person ut terly unknown to you, I will immediately tell you the occasion of it. The Lady who lived near two years in your neighbourhood, and whom you were so kind sometimes to visit under the name of Mrs. Smyth, was Mrs. Aon Long, sister to Sir James Long, and niece of Colonel Strangways. She was of as good a private family as most in England, and had every valuable quality of body and mind that could make a lady loved and esteemed; accordingly she was always valued here above most of her sex, and by the most distinguisht persons. But by the unkindness of her friends, and the generosity of her own nature, and depending upon the death of a very old Grandmother, which did not happen till it was too late, she contracted some debts that made her uneasy here, and, in order to clear them, was content to retire unknown to your town, where I fear her death has been hastned by melancholy, and perhaps the want of such assistance as she might have found here. I thought fit to signify this to you, partly to let you know how valuable a person you have lost; but chiefly to desire that you will please to bury her in some part of your church, near a wall, where a plain marble stone may be fixed, as a poor monument for one who deserved so well, and which, if God sends me life, I hope one day to place there, if no other of her friends will think fit to do it. I had the honor of an intimate acquaintance with her; and was never 80 sensibly touched with any one's death as with hers; neither did I ever know a person, of either sex, with more virtues or fewer infirmityes; the onely one she had, which was the neglect of her own affairs, arising wholly from the goodness of her temper. I write not this to you at all as a secret, but am content your town should know what an excellent person they have had among them. If you visited her any short time before her death, or know any particulars about it, or of the state of her mind, or the nature of her disease; 1 beg you will be so obliging to inform me; for the letter we have seen from her poor maid, is so imperfect, by her grief for the death of so good a lady, that it onely tells the time of her death; and your letter may if you please be directed to Dr. Swift, and put under a cover, which cover may be directed to Erasmus Lewis, Esq. at the Earl of Dartmouth's Office at Whitehall. I hope you will forgive this trouble, for the occasion of it, and give some allowances to so great a loss, not onely to me, but to all who who have any regard for every perfection that human nature can possess; and if in any way I can serve or oblige you, I shall be glad of an opportunity of obeying your commands. I am, &c. J. SWIFT.' FROM DR. JOHNSON TO DR. WARTON. March 8th, 1754. • Dear Sir, I cannot but congratulate you upon the conclusion of a work (the Adventurer) in which you have borne so great a part with so much reputation. I immediately determined that your name should be mentioned, but the paper having been some time written, Mr. Hawkesworth, I suppose, did not care to disorder its text, and therefore put your eulogy in a note. He and every other man mention your papers of Criticism with great commendation, though not with greater than they deserve. But how little can we venture to exult in any intellectual powers or literary attainments, when we consider the condition of poor Col lins. I knew him a few years ago full of hopes and full of projects, versed in many languages, high in fancy, and strong in retention. This busy and forcible mind is now under the government of those who lately would not have been able to comprehend the least and most narrow of its designs. What do you hear of him? are there hopes of his recovery? or is he to pass the remainder of his life in misery and degradation? perhaps with complete consciousness of his calamity. You have flatter'd us, dear Sir, for some time with hopes of see ing you; when you come you will find your reputation encreased, and with it the kindness of those friends who do not envy you; for success always produces either love or hatred. I enter my name among those that love, and that love you more and more in propor. tion as by writing more you are more known; and believe that as you continue to diffuse among us your integrity and learning, I shall be still with greater esteem and affection, Dear Sir, and most humble servant, SAM. JOHNSON.' In a subsequent letter, Dr. Johnson thus forcibly reverts to the same distressing subject: • What becomes of poor dear Collins? I wrote him a letter which he never answered. I suppose writing is very troublesome to him. That man is no common loss. The moralists all talk of the uncer tainty of fortune, and the transitoriness of beauty; but it is yet more dreadful to consider that the powers of the mind are equally liable to change, that understanding may make its appearance and depart, that it may blaze and expire.' Mr. Harris, author of Hermes, &c. communicates the following anecdote: • An An English Officer, who maintained a post with a small force against the whole Spanish army, and thereby preserved one of the richest provinces in Portugal, had sent him for a present from the Government five-and-twenty moidores, with a lame excuse that the necessities of the Government would not permit them to send more. The Officer, with a becoming magnanimity, returned the money, adding that he was sorry for the necessities of the State, and that, if they pleased, there was the like sum of money of his, at their service, in the hands of his agent.' The reader will likewise peruse with satisfaction two excellent letters of Single-speech Hamilton, and have his curiosity awakened by the names of Chancellor Hoadly, Dr. Young, Lord Lyttelton, Bishop Lowth, Sir William Blackstone, Bp. Warburton, Horace Walpole, Jo. Toup, Mickle, Garrick, Colman, and other distinguished personages, who bear their part in this portion of epistolary intercourse. Notwithstanding the reasons which the editor alleges in his concluding note, we could have wished that he had not altered the distribution of his materials, but had exhausted his first and second divisions in the first volume, and reserved the whole of the correspondence for the second. Though in this and some other respects he might have acquitted himself more to our satisfaction, we cannot hesitate to affirm that his labours have contributed an interesting accession to English literature, relative to a man whom the English Literati have so long loved and esteemed. The volume is illustrated by a head of Dr. Warton, a sketch of his monument in Winchester Cathedral, and a fac-simile of his hand-writing. ART. II. A Treatise of Mechanics, theoretical, practical, and descriptive. By Olinthus Gregory, of the Royal Military Academy, Woolwich. 2 Vols. 8vo.; and a Vol. of Plates. 11. 16. Boards. Kearsley. 186 IN N the Principia of Newton, the part preceding the sections contains a few propositions relative to Equilibrium, and to the Impact of Bodies: but that great author professes not to treat of Mechanics *; and therefore the Laws of Motion, the composition of Motion, the property of the Lever, &c. are but concisely discussed. Roger Cotes was the author of three small works, on the rectilinear descent of Bodies, the motion of Projectiles, and on the motion of Bodies in a Cycloid; and he so well executed these parts, that we regret that he did not take a wider range, * "Cæterum mechanicam tractare non est hujus instituti.” Emerson |