of the gay, the happiest of the happy,-the unfortunate Marquis of Lenox.

Recollection was too fleeting, life too dubious, too fluctuating in the Marquis, when first he found he was yet in the land of the living, for him to connect his ideas, or utter any sound but sighs and groans. He soon perceived that he was in a small, but miserable place, encompassed with faces he had never beheld till that moment, while hoarse voices resounded in his ear, equally unknown to him. Alas! the only eye he could have seen with pleasure, dared not meet his; the only voice he could have found comfort in hearing, uttered not a word, lest the agitation, even of pleasure, should, in so weak a state, be death to him. Yet watching every breath the unfortunate youth drew, ready to echo every groan that burst from him, sat, hid by a curtain, his anxious, his affectionate uncle, Sir Edward Arden: and that the Duke of Aberdeen had yet a son, was rather owing to his natural sensibility, than his immediate affection.'

From the termination of this tale being designated only as the end of the second volume, we are induced to suppose that a prosecution of this joint undertaking is intended.

ART. IX. Malvern, A Descriptive and Historical Poem. By Luke Booker, LL. D. 4to. 3s. 6d. sewed. Rivingtons, &c. 1798.

W E have more than once had occasion to speak of Dr. Booker's literary talents; which, although not of the very highest order, are entitled to respect. It is somewhat extraordinary that, in the present instance, two poems on the same subject † should appear almost at the same time; particularly as Dr. B. seems to wonder that the beauties of Malvern had never before engaged a poet to invoke the Muses in their praise: but perhaps he may not be quite accurate in that supposition. We have seen a poem intitled Malvern Spa, in the fifth volume of Dodsley's collection, inscribed to Dr. Wall; in which, though it is not so copiously descriptive as the work before us, the virtues of the waters are celebrated, and much praise is bestowed on the salubrity of the air, and on the extensive and variegated prospects which the hills command. It should likewise be remarked that these hills are the scene, if not the subject, of Piers Plowman's Vision;—a circumstance which would encline us to believe that our early poets were not insensible to the enchanting scenery of Malvern. Leaving this discussion, however, as a matter of little consequence, we shall endeavour to appreciate the merit of the poem before us; and we are

*See particularly, M. Rev. Dec. 1787. "Highlanders," a poem.

appearance;

† Another poem on Malvern Hills has made its which we intend to take farther notice in our next Review.

of

happy

happy in observing that the descriptions are generally just and appropriate. We give the following extract from the opening of the poem:

Ye Mountains nobly prominent from far
Seen by your poet,-daily seen with joy-
Tho' vasty prospects-e'en to Cambria's hills,
He boasts, and tho' his comprehensive view
Be richly graced with Nature's rival charms,-
Water, and wood, and hill, and many a fane
With tower or spire,-You chiefly he admires,
Sublimely rising like the giant-clouds
Which eve assembles in the western sky,

When day's bright monarch, curtain'd round with gold,
His other hemisphere retires to bless.

As Athos o'er th' gean Sea, I mark.

You o'er the champaign, rear your shadowing form
Irregularly huge, august, and high:

Mass pil'd on mass, and rock on ponderous rock,
In Alpine majesty, -your lofty brows
Sometimes dark frowning, and anon serene,-
Wrapt now in clouds invisible, and now
Glowing with golden sunshine: now mid-way
Broad nebulous zone engirds you, like the belt
Of that resplendent star whose mighty orb,
Rolling thro' boundless space, the mine of night
Illumines; in his never-ceasing course
Attended by his moons of fainter light.

Not distant now, ye Mountains?' I admire
Your form stupendous; but (oft wish'd) approach
Early, while yet the noiseless village sleeps,
To gain your summit; season fit to rise
Above the level plain so high in air;
No burning sun now vapours grey exhales
From humid meads, enveloping the view:
No winds yon cottage chimney's curling smoke
Disperse, scarce e'en disturb. The slender stems
Of hare-bells blue are motionless and still:
The thistle-down assumes its silvery wing,
As if to wanton with the morning breeze,
But to the ground, unboyant, soon descends.
Tranquillity the elements pervades,

And Harmony the woods. No cloud obscures
The wide horizon's undulating line,

Where join'd seem earth and sky,-where axure mist

Veils the soft landscape melting into light,

* Malvern Hills are situated in the several counties of Worcester, Glocester, and Hereford. The two villages, great and little Malvern, are in the neighbourhood of the celebrated, copious, and charming spring. Rev.

-This winding path, close cropt by nibbling sheep
(Its end the summit)-now my steps pursue.
Keep earthward bent the eye,-forbearance wise,
Diminishing, by no impatient gaze,

Its pleas'd astonishment when sudden bursts
The full, the wide Circumference on its view.
-When shall forbearance cease?-my beating heart
Pants, like an eager steed, for liberty,

When sounds the trump, to rush into the war.-
-Now level treads the foot-the summit's gain'd-
"GREAT GOD OF NATURE!-these thy glorious Works!
"ALMIGHTY! thine this universal frame!"

Although some of these lines may be defective in harmony, and others may not be quite exempt from the charge of affectation and obscurity, yet they display poetic spirit, and accuracy of observation.

By a natural and easy transition, the author passes from Malvern to the neighbouring country, and gives a pleasing account of the surrounding scats, &c. This part of the poem is interspersed with many generous and truly patriotic sentiments. The following landscape is described in bright and glowing colours:

From scenery so luxuriant to depart

Loath is the Muse, tho' tempted now to plume

Her wing for range more ample. Cambria's Heights,
Where the bright sun declines, burst on the view,
All forms assuming, bold-abrupt-grotesque,
O'erlooking glens sequester'd,-vallies rich,
Meandering rivers, and the ocean wide,-
Castles dismantled, with their mossy towers,
And abbeys, on whose ivy-vested walls
Sits Ruin sad-mocking the pride of kings,
And warning of its end an heedless world.
O'er those lorn scenes where princes gaily stray'd,—
Bloated, now crawls at eve the squalid toad.
Around those lengthening ailes, where choral sounds
Monastic rung, the screech owl's horrid cry
Doleful as wailing ghosts, now nightly meets
The startled ear: while, round and round, the bat
Her solitary flight maintains,—now seen,
Now lost in murky shades, where no pale ray
Shoots from the waning moon.———
With all their wild diversity, nor thine,
Exuberant Hereford! (whose favour'd plains
Boast their four harvests in the circling year *)
Must the rapt Muse allure.-One cursory glance
Around she casts, but stoops not yet her wing,

-But Cambrian scenes,

*The Hay, the Corn, the Hop, and the Fruit Harvests: the

latter for Cyder and Perry. Rev.

And

And on no distant mountain seeks repose.

Not Abberley's, nor Clee's, nor Wrekin's aught
Her flight impedes; nor Dudley's, faintly seen,
With reverend Ruins crown'd, most ancient deem'd
Of mouldering castles in Britannia's isle ;

Nor, Cawney! thine, near my lov'd home, but hence
Full many a league: nor Clent, tho' boasting trees
Planted by LYTTELTON the Great and Good;
The Christian Faith's Defender, Poet true,
And Orator resistless for the weal

Of his immortal Country :-O'er thy top
Conspicuous Lickey! she her flight pursues,

And thine, Edge-Hill, by CHARLES's hapless fate
Renown'd, and sung in JAGO's tuneful strains.'

The first book concludes with a celebration of the Plain and Battle of Tewksbury, and of the Vale and Battle of Evesham. The second book is chiefly occupied in the description of Worcester; which, we fear, the majority of readers will deem somewhat tedious: particularly that part which treats of the manufactures carried on in that city.

In the 3d book, the author returns to Malvern, and, as might be expected from the purity of the air, grows more poetical. The subject of this book is chiefly the medicinal virtues of the Malvern Spring. The following lines are spirited, and convey advice which, perhaps, is neither new or uncommon, but which deserves more attention than it may possibly receive:

O Health! how lovely on the virgin cheek
Thou sit'st, assuming oft a higher bloom
Which Virtue lends-not gives, requiring soon
The evanescent Blushes she imparts!

-How beauteous These, resulting from the Soul,
And, like the Soul's etherial essence, pure,
Swift flying e'en from Rapture's eager gaze!
With such compar'd-how spiritless and dead
The borrow'd tints of Dissipation's Train!
Inferior as the taper's feeble light

To the round splendent Moon.-O impious They
Who, at their midnight orgies, Health's clear tide
Contaminate, and then her exil'd blush
Supply by Art disgustful!--Know, ye Fair!
That, to the Sex your blandishments wou'd win,
The faded countenance where Nature plants
Her snow-white lilies has superior charms
To Art's false roses,-fatal to yourselves;
But, on the hearts ye seek to captivate,
No tender wound inflicting.-

-Vain deceit !

E'en fools deride it, and the wise abhor.

-Ye thoughtless Flutterers o'er Destruction's gulph!
List to the warning voice of Truth, that calls

From deathful Pleasure to celestial bliss.

-Ere

-Ere the seductive Spoiler steal away

Health's remnant bloom, Oh, quit the Syren's haunts;
Her snares alluring fly, while yet remains

To fly the power; else soon, of Life bereft,
Stretch'd in the loathsome Tomb unwept ye lie.
Hither retire; and duly morn and eve,

As ye contemplate the surrounding scene
Of wonders, let your orisons arise

To HIM who made it, and a richer world
Has in reserve for Virtue.'

In closing this article, we would observe that the author appears to possess that enthusiastic love and admiration of the beauties of nature, which are generally the concomitants of a virtuous and feeling mind; and that on all occasions he ex-. presses a strong sense of the importance of religion and morality. We may therefore safely recommend his work, as capable not only of affording rational pleasure, but of imparting instruction and improvement.

ART. X.

ENEA-ПITEPOENTA; Or, the Diversions of Purley. By John Horne Tooke, A. M. late of St. John's College, Cambridge. 2d Edition. 4to. 3 Vols. 21. 2s. to Subscribers. Vol. 1. only now published. Johnson. 1798.

IT

is very remarkable that the real nature of LANGUAGE should have remained unknown during so many centuries as have passed, and have seen it little understood. This deficiency has not arisen from a want of writers; almost every philosophical author, from the earliest ages of Greece to the present hour, having either incidentally or systematically considered the subject.-PLATO composed a long, an claborate, and a most erroneous dissertation on that very part of grammar, in which an acuter mind was destined to discover the truth, more than 2000 years after the Cratylus, or Dialogue on Etymology, was published.-The Scholar of Plato, ARISTOTLE, an incomparably superior philosopher, actually promised, in the commencement of his Analytics, to explain the nature of signs but he contented himself with an ineffectual attempt, contained in a very few sentences of another work: yet it was a promise which he was bound to perform, in order to render his celebrated doctrine of syllogisms complete. Had he laid this foundation rightly, that doctrine would perhaps have been a master-piece of the human mind, in respect both of ingenuity and utility,

All the succeeding metaphysical writers, of all the different schools, including LEIBNITZ in his "Lusus Hanoverienses" have been satisfied with copying each other's mistakes.-Rai

mond