moral and consoling pleasure to sec, that in circumstances so unfavourable, such men can exist. Their patron, good as his motives are, it is our duty to correct; his impertinent and intemperate exag gerations of praise, must injure those whom he designs to serve. ART. XLIV. Poems, lyrical and miscellaneous. By the late Rev. HENRY MOORE, of Liskeard. 4to. pp. 153. IT is with mingled pain and pleasure, that we prepare to give our testimony to the talents and merit of an author, who was destined, by a singular and melan choly fate, to break forth upon the public ear, in all the pomp and harmony of song, just as the silent lapse of time had hurried him, in the evening of age, but the dawn of reputation, beyond "that bourne whence never traveller returns." Dr. Aikin, as editor, has prefixed the "few biographical memoirs" that could be obtained, or expected, of a man "whose lot it was, with genius, learning, and morals, to pass a life of almost total obscurity." Mr. Moore, we are informed, was the son of a dissenting minister at Plymouth, where he was born in 1732. He was destined for his father's profession; and after the usual course of school and academical education, his situation that seemed calculated to pro duce contentment and thankfulness, and although he had long suffered under painful and complicated bodily complaints, yet he was perfectly free from any disposition to repine. I never heard him utter a querulous expression. The composure and resignation of his mind seemed always undisturbed.His manners were singularly mild and gentle. He appeared utterly unconscious of posses sing any extraordinary powers: indeed, his behaviour indicated a greater degree of humility and distrust than I almost ever witnessed." I shall add, that both the trials he under went, and the sources of his consolation, are which, we cannot but feel, that though he strongly marked in his poems; in perusing suffered much, he was nobly supported. During the last summer," continues Dr. Aikin, "Mr. Moore put into the hands of the friend above referred to, a volume of MS. poems, which, with singular modesty, be requested him to shew to some person suffieiently conversant with productions of the kind, to judge of their fitness for the public "In 1755 or 1756, was elected minister eye. I was applied to on the occasion; and to a dissenting congregation at Dulverton in I trust the readers of these pieces will be conSomersetshire. In 1757, he removed to a vinced, that I could not hesitate in giving a similar situation at Modbury in Devonshire; decided opinion in their favour. In reality, where he continued till his final removal to Iscarcely ever experienced a greater and more Liskeard in Cornwall, which took place about agreeable surprise, than on the discovery of the year 1787. In these long periods of life so rich a mine of poetry, where I had not the he appears to have been almost totally lost least intimation of its existence. That the from the notice of the world; recollected, author should have passed seventy years of perhaps, by some of his fellow-students as a life almost totally unknown, was a circumyouth of promise; known by a few brother stance that excited the interest of all to whom ministers as a man of learning and critical ta- the poems were communicated; and we fents; but probably scarcely recognized by were impatient that, however late, he should two or three individuals for the splendid and enjoy those rewards of merit which had so cultivated genius, capable of shining in the long been withheld. In the mean time he highest ranks of literature, had fortune pro- was attacked with a severe stroke of the palduced him upon a theatre suited to his pow- sy, which, while it left his intellects free, iners. How he appeared in the latter portion capacitated him for every exertion. There was of his narrow course, to an intimate friend now no time to be lost. My offer of taking who was able properly to estimate him, will upon myself the whole care of the editorship best be shown in that friend's own words. was thankfully accepted; and a subscription He was probably led to adopt his retired was set on foot, which met with the warm and obscure mode of life, partly from the support of many, who were desirous that weakness of his constitution, the original in- all possible comfort should be supplied to firmity of which was distressingly increased cheer the helpless decline of such a man. by his studious and sedentary habits; partly But the progress of debility anticipated these from the singular modesty and diffidence of well intended efforts: he sunk tranquilly his disposition. Notwithstanding, however, under his disease, on November 2, 1902, he thus voluntarily withdrew from general having, however, lived to enjoy some satisfac society, when in company with any one with tion from the knowledge, that there were whom he felt himself at case, his conversa. persons whom he had never seen, who could tion was most agreeable and entertaining, en- regard him with cordial esteem and friendlivened with sprightly sallies and seasonable ship. As he lived in celibacy, and had un anecdotes. Although there was so little independent relatives, no other object remained for a subscription, than that of bringing for ward his posthumous work in an advantageous manner, secure both from loss and neglect." To analyse a volume of lyrical and miscellaneous poems, would be difficult, to characterize them will be easier to us, and more satisfactory to our readers. The moral and religious odes exhibit the conceptions of a saint, and the execution of a poet; the most fervent, rational, and amiable piety, varied and enlivened by faithful and animated sketches of nature, by apt and classical allusions to the history and poetry of antiquity, and, above all, by the "breathing thoughts and burning words" which impress on the scrolls of eloquence and poetry the stamp, the inimitable stamp, of genius. The lighter and miscellaneous pieces, are captivating by their harmony, elegance, and originality of sentiment.The subject matter of Mr. Moore's poems is such as the book of nature and of God, the treasures of learning, the feelings of a warm heart, and the reveries of an active fancy, offer to the retired and contemplative man. His versification, evidently modelled on that of Dryden, is sonorous, rich, flowing, and majestic. In forming the measures of his odes, which are mostly of the pindaric or irregular kind, he displays the most exquisite taste and knowledge of harmony; his rhymes partake of the inaccuracy common to the last generation of versifiers; his sentences are sometimes intricate, from their length and parenthetical construction, a fault probably occasioned by the want of some friend to whom he might have read his compositions aloud; and he bas sometimes been guilty, like most of those, whose minds receive little other nourishment than such as is supplied by their own reading and meditations, of imitating and repeating him. self. Occasional imitations of other poets might also be pointed out, if the venerable author were now capable of profiting by our strictures. The "Ode to Spring," with which the volume commences, has the merit of novelty on a trite subject, which is chiefly procured by the moral reflections drawn from the prospect of universal reanimating and beauty, and the lively glance through nature up to nature's God." One ode, as a specimen of those on moral topics, which have all a strong resemblance to each other in diction, and the general tone of sentiment, we present en sky, Rive the tough oak, or dash th' aspiring tow'r; Thus earth-born heroes, the proud sons of The world's fair peace confound, Fill'd the loud echoes of the world around, The warriors where, who, in triumphal pride, throne : He sees the mighty ghosts of heroes stalk "Where old Euphrates winds his storied flood, The curious traveller explores in vain A nameless heap o'erspreads the dreary space, And wing her eagle flight To grandeur, fame, and bliss without a bound. Some worthy monument may still declare But with its firm foundation laid By just degrees, and with a daring grace, Which o'er the barrier leaps of added years, When the loud clarion's dreadful roll "The fall of Zion" is one of the sublimest prophetic denunciations we have met with; never surely was a picture of consummate horror so strongly drawn, and so artfully shaded, as the following: And famine wastes within. Ah! what a groan was there, As bursting from the bosom of despair! See o'er her famish'd babe the mother hang! Maternal fondness adding edge to woe, Keen as her childbed's agonizing throe. But, oh! my chill'd blood shudders at the sightResistless hunger gives a fiercer pang. Mother, forbear!-sun, hide thy trembling light! Blot out the deed accurst, eternal night!" The veil is indeed cast by the hand of a master! There is a happy boldness in the following metaphor of the "Ode on Divine Love:" "What tho' to Heaven's empyrial vault aspire Your gilded domes, with rival splendors crown'd! Soon, soon destruction, with her tongue of fire, Shall lick them from the ground." The much lamented loss of a young lady, to whom he was fondly attached, and soon after of a bosom friend, awoke the lyre of our poet to strains of the deepest pathos. His "Invocation to Melancholy" must touch a responsive chord in every human breast, which has once vibrated to the stroke of tender grief. The first verse contains a very judicious deviation from the rules of prosody, which this writer never lightly violates: "Dost thou thro' the glimmering glade, Beneath the moon's pale ray, With many a slow step stray?" An exquisite imitation of a celebrated passage of Virgil, occurs in this stanza: "All the long night he tells his plaintive tale Along the list ning vale, To ev'ry vagrant rill, His swelling sighs to her. Thee beautiful, thee cold, thee scornful maid: "Te dulcis conjux, te solo in litare secum, Gladly would we indulge ourselves in still more copious extracts from so rich a store. But we have done enough; the lovers of genuine poetry, and pure elevated virtue, will eagerly welcome this production, as offering in its moral eder SEWELL'S POEMS.-M'CREEDY'S PRESS. —SEYMOUR'S POWERS OF IMAGINATION. 591 what has long been a desideratum in the language. France still boasts the far inferior and almost antiquated works of J. B. Rousseau, in a similar walk; and it ART. XLV. Poems, by Mrs. G. StWELL, of Byfleet, Surrey. THIS elegant little volume, which appears to be patronised by a numerous and very splendid list of subscribers, consists of short miscellaneous pieces, exhibiting just sentiments in easy verse. High is not probable, that the British public will value less highly this, the first offering, and dying legacy of humble worth and bashful genius. Relict of the late Rev. George Sewell, Rector 12mo. pp. 283. poetic fancy, glowing diction, rich and varied harmony are of such rare occurrence, that their absence ought no more to excite disappointment, than the not finding pearls in every oyster. ART. XLVI. The Press; a Poe, published as a Specimen of Typography. By Joux M'CREERY, Liverpool. Thin quarto. THE singular humility of this titlepage cannot fail to excite the curiosity of our readers, who will ask with astonishment, what kind of poet he can be, who submits his numbers to the public eye, merely for the purpose of affording an opportunity of display, to the mechanical skill of the printer. Their surprize will be diminished on learning that, in this instance, the poet and printer are one and the same person, and that the author of "The Press," is the very man who, in his humbler capacity, has been instrumental in diffusing through the nation the rich intellectual stores of a Currie, a Roscoe, a Smythe, and a Shepherd. It is not wonderful that Mr. McCreery, animated by the encouragement of such patrons, should feel anxius to acquire for the Liverpool press, reputation for beauty and correctness f workmanship hitherto confined to hose of the metropolis. In the laudable pursuit of excellence a his art, our poetical printer engaged a course of laborious and expensive xperiments, by means of which he has length succeeded in preparing an ink hich, without fatiguing the eye by a 00 glaring black, gratifies it by a melw richness of tint never before attained. lis presswork is likewise remarkable for s smoothness and evenness of colour1g, though the common, not the French, ress, has been employed. The type, hich is the same used by Bulmer, in Boydell's splendid Shakspeare, is an exremely good one, formed on the Bas kerville model, though inferior to the delicate fineness of Figgins's best letter. This pattern work is likewise adorned by emblematical wooden cuts of superior excellence. A clear and satisfactory statement of the controversy respecting the origin of printing is subjoined to the poem; as likewise, a somewhat violent declamation against the paper taxes, and the act by the which a printer is obliged to subscribe his name at the beginning and end of every work. The intentions of the legislature, in framing this regula tion, might perhaps afford cause for reprehension; but certainly the obligation of marking their works has enabled this class of artizans, to make known to the world in general, their names and respective merits, with which only authors and booksellers were previously acquainted. Mr. McCreery is not a man to be ashamed of working under the public eye, as his present production sufficiently evinces, nor ought he, therefore, to be the first to exclaim against the revival of a practice, universal among the early and eminent printers, and alone capable of again elevating that into a liberal art, which, for some time past, has sunk into a mere mechanical trade. The sentiments of our author are free and manly; his verse is smooth and correct, and certainly reflects honour cn one whose opportunities for the cultiva tion of literature must have been snatched, with haste and difficulty, from more important and lucrative avocations. T. XLVII. The Powers of Imagination; a Poem, in three Parts. Written at the Age of Sixteen. By Miss CHARLOTTE SEYMOUR. 4to. pp. 130. THIS poem possesses three irresistile claims to be indulgently reviewed, imely, the youth and sex of the author, and the lovely portrait which is prefixed: at the same time we are bound not to violate our implied engagement with the public. We shall therefore confine our selves to the expression of regret, that the friends of this young lady should possess so little common sense as to encourage a publication which, we are sure, the author herself, when her taste and judgment shall be a little more matured, will wish that it had been con fined within the circle of her family and intimate acquaintance. ART. XLVIII. The Temple of Nature; or, the Origin of Society: a Poem, with plis sophical Notes. By ERASMUS DARWIN, M. D. F. R. S. 4to. pp. 300. DR. Darwin, like Lucretius, has endeavoured to blend in his poetical works the grave features of philosophy with the mutable graces and smiling charms of imagination. In a considerable degree he has succeeded; and his " Economy of Vegetation," and "Loves of the Plants," will attract notice for the splendid digressions and similes which they contain, long after the philosophical reveries upon which they are based shall be forgotten. The distinguishing characteristic of Dr. 'Darwin's poetry is picturesque description, conveyed in remarkably harmonious language, but weakened in its effect by the very slight interest which the general plan is calculated to excite in comparison with that of particular passages. The author himself indeed has compared his "Loves of the Plants" to a series of paintings connected together by a festoon of ribbands, a description which may also be applied with perfect justice to the "Economy of Vegetation," and the work at present before us. The "Temple of Nature" consists of four cantos, the first of which treats of the origin or production of life; the second of the transmission or re-production of life; the third relates to the progress of the mind; and the fourth investigates the necessary connexion between good and evil. The philosophical system here displayed and illustrated in the notes, scarcely differs, in any respect, from what has been already published in the former works of the same author, and is therefore, for the most part, a mere repetition of dubious or misapplied facts. The verse abounds with stanzas, and even whole passages, closely imitated from the "Botanic Garden," and is strikingly deficient in those brilliant si miles and personifications which constitute the most valuable portion of Dr. D.'s poetry. As in the Newtonian system the motions of inanimate matter are explained by the laws of attraction and repulsion, so Dr. Darwin considers the phenomena of vitality to be ultimately attributable to contraction or the shortening of a fibre on the application of a stimulus, and its gradual re-extension when the stimulus is removed. There is this slight difference, however, between the two theories, that Newton did not proceed a step without rigorous demonstra tion, whereas Dr. Darwin does not bring a single argument, or even analogy, in support of his hypothesis. Having formed a contractile fibre by the succes sive application of minute particles of matter to each otler, he supposes its extremities to unite and thus produce a ring; a multitude of rings united form a tube, which, by the process of assimilation, forms a living animal. Or to use the author's own words, "In earth, sea, air, around, below, above, Rings join to rings, and irritated tubes cubes; And, urg'd by appetencies new, select, From living tubes, which have thus acquired "appetencies new," he supposes the microscopic animalcules and vegeta bles to be produced without the interven tion of either solitary or sexual genera tion. At length in some of the larger of these living tubes two kinds of organic particles begin to be formed, the one en dowed with " nice appetencies," and the other most conveniently with " apt propensities:" in consequence of which, whenever they arrive within the sphere of each other's attraction, they unite, and strange to say, produce a living being similar to that of which they composed a part; and thus commences the process of solitary generation. In this manner are formed the leaf-buds in vegetables, and thus "The male polypus parental swims, |