12. The Point of Honour. A Novel, 2 Vols: 12mo. 65, Noble,

HIS novel is of the fee-faw kind, but the balance at laft refts in the point of honour. A gentleman falls in love with a lady, who is forced to marry another man. Now, reader, tho' we have often obferved that violent love is a kind of fmallpox of the mind, and confequently neither man nor woman can be twice infected with it, yet this

again; and his last state is worse than his firit, for

love

ena

moured than ever. Well the former dearee becomes a widow. Now the balance nods from honour to affection, from affection to honour at laft it fettles at honour. The widow, however, falls into a confumption and dies, and leaves her fortune to our hero. Fat Difficulty, in the fhape of the fmall-pox, interpofes between him and his fecond flame, who happens, like him, to be very delicate in point of honour. Then Love, in the shape of the goddess Hygeia, or Health; for you know, reader, fem

Nec Deus interfit, nifi dignus vindice nodus;

reftores the bride to her wonted bloom and charms; and that happiness is the refult, is as fure as that three and two make five. We should enlarge further upon this publication, had we not repeatedly analyfed the fame facts and characters.

13. The Orphan Daughters. A moral Tale. z Vols. 12mo. Pr. 65. Noble. JOLI ILO

This novel is, properly, a lecture upon female prudence. The ftory is fimple and unaffected, and the event juft and natural.

14. Memoirs of Lydia Tongue-pad and Juliana Clacket. 12mo, 6 d. Coote.

These Memoirs might have been more properly filed Sermons, had not the preachers mounted the roftrum in mafquerade. The whole, from beginning to end, is a ftring of mifnomers, and yet they contain fome agreeable chit-chat-Have we not feen fome publication of this kind, if not the very same, before in French, or fome other language?

2000 bradyP 15. Curtain Leatures; or Matrimonial Mifery difplayed. In a Series of interefting Dialogues, between married Men and their Wives, in every Station and Condition of Life. 8vo. Pr. 3 Cooke. We imagined, at firft view, that this was a republication of that facetious poet and publican Tom Ward, who wrote A Set

of

of Nuptial Dialogues, The London Spy, and many other works, which about half a century ago were the delight of the minor bards and politicians. But the piece before us is fpick-and-span new, accommodated to the prefent times, and by no means inferior to the labours of that great original. Our author feems to have mounted the profefforial chair of matrimony, and is fo very expert in his lectures, that it is impoffible to diftinguish his fex by his ftile or manner; we therefore give him the male, gen der on mere hazard. brim edi to xog

To be ferious: many married couples in the middling ranks of life, after the honey-moon is over, may profit by this publication. The author has with abundance of juftice expofed thofe prevailing follies and humours in both fexes, which, were they removed, might render the matrimonial yoke light, if not agreeable. We could with, however, that one or two of his dialogues had been omitted, as we do not fee any virtuous purpose they can ferve. That between a political barber and his wife is, we think, very happily imagined; and we shall give an extract from it, as a warning-piece to the amazing number of Quidnuncs who swarm in this metropolis.

4

ง

Wife. And fo because provifion's dear,
You fpend your little all in beer:

And lofe your precious time in drinking,
Inftead of lab'ring on, and thinking,
How we our wretched plight may mend-
Hufband. I tell you, Sufan, that the end
Of all our meeting and debate,

Wife.

Is to reform and help the state;
For when provifions once are cheap,
We the great benefit shall reap;
We, therefore, all those points difcufs,
Which are of greatest ufe to us.

Alas, you know we cannot feed
On converfation—if I need
A dinner will your wife debates
Provide for me and mine the cates?
No-tho' your wifdom is profound,
Hunger will me and mine furround.

Hufband. Once more I bid you, on the pain
Of my difpleafure, to refrain

Nor longer talk for talking fake,

...But my opinion humbly take;linan'a 'kon sack and

Now prithee liften, child, and you
May be a politician too;

}.

Which will a fure provifion grant,
Of all you wish and all you want ;
You know Lord Chatham's zeal to ferve
The nation, will not let us starve;
You know, while Camden holds the fea!,
No doubt remains of public weal;
And that all proper care is taken,
To give us beef and beer and bacon;
The India Company, they say,
*Muft for their acquifitions pay:
Suppose one million, two or three,

That's fomething fure for you and me :

When this is paid, why, money's plenty;

Come-let the thought of that content ye M

Befides, a dividend so large, dotnet

Will foon be made, as to discharge "i yolukorti
Each honeft owner's private debts,

And then I reckon my receipts:

There's three pounds three, for two new wiggs
Made long ago for Squire Higgs:

1

Item, d'ye fee, a twelvemonth's fhaving:
This money's furely worth the having :
Then Doctor Jones, and Thomas Brookes,
Have long been debtors in my books::
All thefe-nay do not think I mock,
Will pay when they divide the stock.

Wife. I grieve to think you are fo blindag Choos
To your own int'reft-and unkind

A

01. T

To your poor children, as to lofensy
Your time in idle fearch of news;
But well the confequence I fee,
A fatal day to you and me;
The parish for my babes must carve;
I'll feek my fate, and you may starve.'

16. Corfica, an Ode. 4to. Pr. 6d. Ridley...A This ode is very pretty and poetical. The author is fired with a juft indignation of the attack made by the French upon the brave Corficans, and celebrates their love of liberty with a warmth becoming their caufe. The laft ftanza gives us the following encomium upon Paoli. cila prat

Warrior, whose heart, averfe to blood,

Still triumphs in a nation's good!

Statefinan, whofe frown, with terrors fpread th
Rolls thunder on corruption's head;

Whole

Whose smile is—virtue's field!
Sage, who alike with watchful zeal
Unruffled plan'ft the public weal
In council, and the field

Teach polifh'd Britain-to be free;

Teach her to think, to act-like thee;

Like thee the fofter bands of concord proved, buA And all her gen'rous fons imbibe their country's love.

a

rasque O sunl T 17. Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce a Poem,ByGeorge Cockings, Author of War, an Heroic Poem: from the Taking of Minorca by the French, to the Reduction of Manilla by the Englifh. 8vo. Pr. 15. 6d. Cooke, but al

Mr. Cockings is one of thofe irregular poets, who, in their attempts to foar above the clouds, ufually fink into the bathos. In his introductory lines he informs us, that he has lately fung, • Vaiq &

The British bold huzzas, the favage yells,

The flaming havoc of difploding fhells

The mould'ring walls, the batt'ring cannons roar,
And heroes drench'd in patriotic gorey?
Great Britain's fulminating terrors hurl'd,

Thro' ev'ry quarter of the wond'ring world."

This is found, if not fenfe; it is picturesque ; it is a poetical imitation of the din of war,

"Of gun, drum, trumpet, blunderbufs, and thunder."

But Mr. Cockings foon defcends into a more familiar ftile. For when he comes to speak of the rules and orders of the Society for the Encouragement of Arts, he says,

And that there may no partial favour be,
They've made and ratify'd a sage decree ;
When the Society fhall congregate,
On matters of importance to debate,

No father of a youth, who claims a prize,

Shall present be when'er they fcrutinize.'

And a little after, he defcribes a machine, for the flicing of turnips, in the following manner

For quick dispatch, its parts are form'd fo well,

None ever yet the fame cou'd parallel, biz borc
Into the refervoir ten bufhels throw,

With fuch voracious speed the turnips flow muinoons qu
Thro' ev'ry fection of the culter'd bafe, sted

"

The work's completed in five minutes fpace.mn• Ush
The whole machine's of fuch a fimple frame,
That children may be trufted with the fane, brud de

Here

Here Mr. Cockings is as low as the bottom of Fleet-ditch; and here we leave him."

18. Flights to Helicon or, Petites Pieces, in Verfe. By G. P. Touley. 8vo. Pr. 2s. 6d. Fr. Newbery.

This volume contains a variety of little pieces on different occafions; fome of which are puerile and incorrect, and others tolerable. The bard mounts his Pegafus in Bentinck-ftreet, Soho; and from thence takes his flights to Helicon. But as he may probably be difappointed of the honours he expects at the court of the Mufes, we would advife him to poftpone his aerial journeys to Greece, and ftop at Marybone; especially as that is a place which he has condefcended to celebrate in the following lines;

Near where Augufta's lofty turrets rife,
Whofe gilded spires seem loft within the fkies
A little village stands, to all well known,
And call'd, for many ages,-Mary bone.

Since Cooper's Hill, her Denham's praife obtain'd,
And Windfor Foreft, Pope's attention gain'd;
Be mine the task this humble spot to trace,
From its firft rife, down to its prefent days,
&c.'

Here fome of Mr. Toufey's pieces have been fung with applaufe. Here he may look up to the orchestra, and imagine that it is the temple of Apollo and the Mufes, or the temple of Fame; and he may think himself amply rewarded for all his labours, if he can only be nominated the laureate of the garden.

19. Poems on Several Subjects. 8vo. Pr. s. 6d. Johnson and Payne...

This poet is equally a ftranger to us as to himself; to us, if he thinks we are to be influenced by a very pretty copy of verfes, addreffed to the Reviewers, prefixed to his poems; and to himself, by thinking that his poetical talents require to be recommended through fuch a compliment. At the same time, we do not mention him as poffefing much originality of compofition; but we have known writers who have risen to confiderable reputation, from far more contemptible commencements in poetry than those exhibited in the fpecimens before

us.

This collection begins with a paraphrafe upon the Lord's Prayer, which is very prettily executed; we find only one line in it which is glaringly reprehenfible:

For who againft thy judgments can withstand ?

The