they are right upon the whole, they justly claim our most tender allowances and charity. But even many of these also, we had better leave to themfelves, and the good providence of God, than attempt to reason them out of their errors, and inftruct them better; unless from fome particular circumstances, we are pretty fure of fuccefs. It requires a great deal of prudence and addrefs to deal with people under deep prejudices, and of a naturally enthusiastic temperament, fo as at once to preserve their zeal for religion, and cure them of their abfurdities. One principal thing here, I think, is to endeavour to rectify their notions about the use and importance of reafon in religion; and, if poffible, convince them, that there is a real difference between reafon as fuch, and the corruption of reason, and that they put the latter for the former. And yet if this is not done with caution, it is much but you draw upon yourself fome reproachful epithet, and be esteemed no better than an heretic as the reward of your Chriftian compaffion; and fet them but the farther from the hope of recovery to juster sentiments.'

Thefe obfervations are certainly very juft, for reafon has nothing to expect from bigotry but reproaches.

Vectis. The Isle of Wight: a Poem in Three Cantos. By Henry Jones, Author of The Earl of Effex, Kew Gardens, &c. 4to. 2s. 6d. Flexney.

POETICAL paintings, when executed with any degree of

merit, have a charm for the imagination, which is founded in the love of nature;-that love is very powerful, particularly in fenfible hearts and cultivated minds; and Mr. Jones's defcriptive poem cannot fail of giving pleasure to readers of that cast.The Ifle of Wight, from its romantic and agreeably wild fituation, afforded him an opportunity for the happiest descriptions: and thus, in general, he gives us an idea of its beauties:

Thou little world, divided from the great,
Where pleafute fports, and plenty rules in ftate,
Where nature in her richest robe is dress'd;
Tranfparent robe! distinguish'd from the reft:
Thy fummer mantle, o'er the mountains thrown,
That blue ætherial gauze in Eden known,
For paradife would call that garb its own,
Adorns thy hills, thy valleys, and thy fhore,
And tho' it seems to hide, reveals thee more:
Here hills, here vallies, in perspective rise,
That blend at diftance with the meeting skies,
In perfect union to the painter's eyes.

A a 3

}

Thy

Thy fummers revel with ferenest pride,
Thy filver feas roll murmuring near thy fide,
The fmootheft feas thy peaceful fhores now lave,
And Halcyons flumber on thy fliding wave;
Ceres and Flora blefs thy teeming vales,
And load, with fragrance fweet, the paffing gales;
Far off on Ocean's Imiling face they play,
And thy rich treasures to the pole convey;
Thy fragrant breath now lulls the enamour'd deep,
All nature's paffions on its furface sleep;
Thy crystal firmament now fhines ferene
Around the filver throne of night's pale queen;
Now golden gems with living luftre glow,
Reflected from the liquid glafs below,
A mimic heaven in that bright mirror lives,
That mocks the true, yet all its fplendor gives;
At equal distance in the deep as fky,

As far from mortal reach from mortal eye;
Enjoy'd with fovereign tranfport by the fight,
For beauty fhines with double charms by night:
Here bounteous nature to her purpose true,
Beftows her beauty and her picture too :
Her picture here the muft with pride furvey,
Her fmiling likeness in its beft array.

The inverted landfcape of rocks and verdure reflected in the ocean has a happy effect in the following expreffive lines: Lo white inverted rocks up-grown with green,

Their waving verdure in the ocean feen;
The downward trees with gentle bendings move,
Obedient to the gale, that breath of love,
Soft whifp'ring to the trembling leaves above;
The magic picture charms the gazer's eye,
That feems to mingle with the ftars and sky;
The ftars and fky their mimic luftre lend,
And with the rocks and verdure feem to blend;
Where pleafing fhadowy fhapes ferene and pure,
In darkness vifible, in light obfcure,

With doubtful certainty inchant the fight,

Like the dim neutral dufk that mingles day with night.

}

In the third canto, the mention of Carisbrooke-Castle, where Charles the First was confined, naturally leads the Author to expatiate on the sufferings of that unfortunate prince, for whom, in our opinion, he expreffes a greater regard than is consistent with the poetical principles of freedom. But without any farther attention to that part of his performance, we fhall only take one more view with him, in this delightful island, and then quit the fcene:

Look round, fee art and nature in their pride,
The neighbouring Newport and the foreft wide;
The royal foreft rich with rural dies,

Beneath the caftle's foot fee Carifbrooke rife;

Delightful

Delightful village, mentioned oft by fame,
That to the lofty fortrefs gives its name;
That feems to flide adown the adjacent hill,
The trees, the steeple and the houses fill
With pleafing glad alternatives the fight,
That mingle moral gloom with nature's light:
From fractur'd battlements and broken walls,
Where horror's curtain o'er the fancy falls.
Oh! fee what pleafing landscapes fhine from far,
In contrast to the guilt of civil war;

A continent out-fpread to pleasure's view;
For ever beautiful for ever new,

Where nature triumphs in her genial toil,
Who fafter can produce than war can spoil:
How plenty there with pleasure joins the hand,
Smiles on the fea and fwells upon the land;
Lo! Afhy Down, where angels oft might play,
As erft at Eden in their bright array;
Appears at diftance to the longing eye,

A paradife juft fallen from the sky.

Notwithstanding the attention we have fhewn to this defcriptive poem, we are fenfible that there are in it many weak lines and exceptionable paffages, which, for the fake of the better parts, we forbear to cenfure in particular.

Poems, chiefly Paftoral, By John Cunningham. 8vo. 4S. DodЛley.

OME of the poems that appear in this publication have

SOME

come under our review in detached pamphlets, and we have found occafion both to cenfure and approve the Author. His principal merit seems to lie in the paftoral way when he attempts ethics or philofophy, he finks under the weight of his themes, and his efforts are feeble or uncouth ;-but nothing can be prettier than the following paftoral effays, or rural defcriptions;

CONTENT: a Paftoral.
I.

O'er moorlands and mountains, rude, barren, and bare,
As wilder'd and weary'd I roam,

A gentle young fhepherdefs fees my defpair,

And leads me-o'er lawns-to her home.

Yellow fheafs from rich Ceres her cottage had crown'd,
Green rushes were ftrew'd on her floor,

Her cafement, sweet woodbines crept wantonly round,
And deckt the fod feats at her door.

II.

We fat ourselves down to a cooling repast:

Fresh fruits! and fhe cull'd me the beft:
While thrown from my guard by fome glances fhe caft,
Love flily ftole into my breast!

I told my foft wishes; the fweetly reply'd,

(Ye virgins, her voice was divine!)
I've rich ones rejected, and great ones deny'd,
But take me, fond fhepherd-I'm thine.
III.

Her air was fo modeft, her aspect fo meek!
So fimple, yet fweet, were her charms!
1 kifs'd the ripe rofes that glow'd on her cheek,
And lock'd the lov'd maid in my arms.
Now jocund together we tend a few sheep,
And if, by yon prattler, the ftream,
Reclin'd on her bofom, I fink into fleep,
Her image still softens my dream,

IV.

Together we range o'er the flow rifing hills,
Delighted with pastoral views,

Or reft on the rock whence the streamlet diftils,
And point out new themes for my mufe.
To pomp or proud titles the ne'er did aspire,
The damfel's of humble descent;

The cottager, Peace, is well known for her fire,
And shepherds have nam'd her CONTENT.

The VIOLET.

I.

Shelter'd from the blight ambition,
Fatal to the pride of rank,
See me in my low condition
Laughing on the tufted bank.
II.

On my robes (for emulation)
No variety's impreft:

Suited to an humble station,

Mine's an unembroider'd vest.

III.

Modeft tho' the maids declare me,

MAY in her fantastic train,

When PASTORA deigns to wear me,
Ha'nt a flow'ret half so vain.

A LANDSCAPE.

I.

. Now that fummer's ripen'd bloom
Frolicks where the winter frown'd,
Stretch'd upon these banks of broom,
We command the landscape round.

II. Na

II.

Nature in the prospect yields

Humble dales, and mountains bold, Meadows, woodlands, heaths,—and fields Yellow'd o'er with waving gold. III.

Goats upon that frowning steep,

Fearless, with their kidlings brouse!

Here a flock of snowy sheep!

There an herd of morly cows!
IV.

On the uplands, every glade
Brightens in the blaze of day;
O'er the vales, the fober shade
Softens to an evening grey.
V.

Where the rill by flow degrees
Swells into a cryftal pool,
Shaggy rocks and fhelving trees
Shoot to keep the waters cool.
VI.

Shiver'd by a thunder-stroke,

From the mountain's mifty ridge,

O'er the brook a ruin'd oak,

Near the farm-houfe, forms a bridge.
VII.

On her breaft the funny beam

Glitters in meridian pride;

Yonder as the virgin stream
Haftens to the restless tide:-
VIII.

Where the fhips by wanton gales

Wafted, o'er the green waves run.
Sweet to see their swelling fails
Whiten'd by the laughing fun!
IX.

High upon the daified hill,

Rifing from the flope of trees, How the wings of yonder mill Labour in the busy breeze! X.

Cheerful as a fummer's morn

(Bouncing from her loaded pad)
Where the maid prefents her corn,
Smirking, to the miller's lad.
XI.

O'er the green a feftal throng
Gambols, in fantastic trim!
As the full cart moves along,
Hearken-'tis their harveft hymn!