Art. XL. A fupplement to the account of an amphibious bipes, by John Ellis, Efq; (art. XXII.) being the anatomical defcription of the faid animal, by Mr. John Hunter, F. R. S.'

As this defcription is minute, and fome account of the characteristics of the amphibious bipes was given in our last Review, it may be fufficient for the majority of our readers, to refer to that article for information on this fubject.

II. Edge-Hill, or the Rural Profpect delineated and moralized. A Poem. In Four Books. By Richard Jago, Ą. M. · 4to. Pr. Ios. 6d. Dodfley.

HIS poem contains a description of the environs of a hill much noted for its extenfive and delightful profpe&t, and diftinguished by being the fcene of the first battle in the civil wars of Charles I,

The opening of the poem exhibits beautiful imagery in fmooth and harmonious numbers :

< BRITANNIA'S rural charms, and tranquil fcenes,
Far from the circling ocean, where her fleets,
Like guardian spirits, which round Paradife
Perform'd their nightly watch, majestic ride,
I fing; from that fam'd hill, whofe lofty brow
Salutes thy province's contiguous bounds,
Fair feat of learning! May the social claim
Invite thy mufes from their cloifter'd fhades,
To rove with me along the funny ridge,
And, with their graces, harmonize the strain,
In numbers not unpleafing to thy ear,

*

O WILLOUGHBY! accuftom'd to their notes!'

We cannot help thinking, that the fubfequent comparison of the profpect from the top of the hill to an inland fea, is unfuitable to a country diverfified by fuch a variety of objects.

The fummit's gain'd! and, from its airy height,
The late-trod plain looks like an inland fea,
View'd from fome promontory's hoary head,
With distant shores environ'd; not with face
Glaffy, and uniform, but when its waves
Are gently ruffled by the fouthern gale,
And the tall mafts like waving forests shew,

Such is the scene! that, from the terrac'd hill,
Whofe fides the Dryads, and the Wood-nymphs drefs.
With rich embroidery, falutes the eye,

* Oxford,

Ample,

Ample, and various; intermixture sweet
Of lawns, and groves, of open, and retir'd.
Vales, farms, towns, villas, caftles, diftant fpires,
And hills on hills, with ambient clouds enrob'd,

In long fucceffion court the lab'ring fight,

Loft in the bright confufion.'

In the following paffage the author has fallen into the anticlimax; the words by heav'nly mechanism would have been placed with more propriety at the clofe of the description.

So He ordain'd,

Who form'd the fluid mafs of atoms fmall,

The principles of things! who moist from dry,
From heavy fever'd light, compa&ing close
The folid glebe, by heav'nly mechanism,
Stratum on ftratum, in concentric lines;

Who fpake, and difcord's jarring tumult ceas'd!
Who will'd, and chaos into order rose!'

Amongst the names of many eminent perfons celebrated in this poem, the author, in his excurfion along the river Avon, is particularly copious in the eulogy of Shakespeare, the conclufion of which is agreeably poetical.

From their bright seats aerial sprites detain'd,

Or from their unfeen haunts, and flumb'ring fhades

The fairy tribes awak'd, with jocund step,

The circled green and leafy hall to tread:

While, from his dripping caves, old Avon fent.

His willing Naiads to their harmless rout.'

The repetition in the following paffage is uncommon, and introduced in a graceful and eafy manner.

Hence WARWICK, fair
With rifing buildings, COVENTRY's tall fpires,
And KENELWORTH! Thy ftately castle rose,
Which still, in ruin, strikes th' admiring eye.
Around the beauteous landscape, bald and fair,
(Fit ornament for nature's finish'd scene)
His arch magnificent th' horizon bends.

• Now yet again, with accurate furvey,

The level plain, hills rifing various, woods,
And meadows green, the fimple cot, and towns,
Nurs'ries of arts, and commerce! WARWICK, fair
With rifing buildings, COVENTRY's tall fpires,
Magnificent in ruin KENELWORTH!

And ftill more diftant fcenes, with legends ftrange,

And finoky arts, taught in the dusky schools
Of TUBAL'S fons, attentive let us scan,

And all their charms, and myfteries explore.'

It is no fmall encomium on this author to fay, that, in feveral parts of his performance, he has imitated with great ad. drefs two of the most eminent poets in the English language. The celebrated author of the Seafons has these strongly an mated and emphatic lines;

And now, ye lying vanities of life,

Ye ever tempting, ever-cheating train,

Where are ye now, and what is your amount?'

Which are thus imitated by Mr. Jago:

• What art thou, grandeur! with thy flatt'ring train Of pompous lies, and boaftful promises?

Where are they now, and what's their mighty fum ? ›

2

The episode of Lydia and her blind lover is written with tenderness and fimplicity; though we think, that the ignorance which the lover fhews of the perfon of his mistress is, confidering the conversation in which they were engaged, carried beyond the bounds of nature.

At length, again the wish'd-for day arriv'd.

The task was LYDIA'S! to unbind, alone,
The filken bandage from his guarded eyes;
Which ere the loos'd, her speech fhe thus address'd :
'Dear youth! my trembling hands but ill effay
This tender task, and, with unusual fear,
My flutt'ring heart forebodes fome danger nigh.
Difmifs thy fears, he cried, nor think so ill
I con thy leffons, as need now be taught
To hail, with caution, the new-coming day.
Then loose these envious folds, and be thyself
The first, beft object of my longing eyes.

Ah! there's my grief, the mournfully replied;
'Tis not for thee, but for myself I fear.

'Tis true our breasts with mutual passion beat;
But then, alas! 'tis true thou ne'er haft known
Thy LYDIA by that subtle sense, through which
Love chiefly gains a paffage to the heart.

That fenfe! which foon may fhew thee many a maid
Fairer than LYDIA, tho' more faithful none.
And may fhe not cease then to be belov'd?
May the not foon, ah! foon be spurn'd afide,

For fome new charmer? Can I bear that thought?
For this I figh; for this my restless fears

New terrors form. And canft thou then, he cried,

Want

Want aught that might endear thee to my foul?
Art thou not excellence? Art thou not all

That man cou'd wifh? goodness, and gentleft love?
Can I forget thy long affiduous care?

Thy morning-tendance, fureft mark to me
Of day's return, of night thy late adieu ?
Do I need aught to make my blifs compleat,
When thou art by me? when I press thy hand ?
When I breathe fragrance at thy near approach,
And hear the fweeteft mufic in thy voice?
Can that, which to each other sense is dear,
So wond'rous dear, be otherwise to fight?
Or can fight make, what is to reafon good,
And lovely, feem lefs lovely, and lefs good?
Perish the fenfe, that wou'd make LYDIA fuch!
Perish its joys, those joys however great!
If to be purchas'd with the lofs of thee.
O my dear LYDIA! if there be indeed
The danger thou report'ft, O! by our love,
Our mutual love, I charge thee, ne'er unbind
These helpless orbs, or tear them from their seat,
Ere they betray me thus to worse than death.

• No, heav'n forbid! she cried, for heav'n hath heard Thy parents pious pray'rs, and many a friend, Ev'n now affembled, waits to speak his joy, And mingle looks of cordial love with thine. And fhou'd I rob them of the facred blifs? Shou'd I deprive thee of the rapt'rous fight? No! be thou happy; happy be thy friends; Whatever fate attends thy LYDIA's love; Thy hapless LYDIA !-Haplefs did I say?

Ah! wherefore? wherefore wrong I thus thy worth? Why doubt thy well-known truth, and conftant mind? No, happiest she of all the happy train,

In mutual vows, and plighted faith secure!

So faying, the unloos'd the filken band;

When thus the youth. And is this then the world
In which I am to live? Am I awake?

Or do I dream? Or hath some unknown pow'r,
Far from my friends, far from my native home,
Convey'd me to these radiant feats? O thou!
Inhabitant of this enlighten'd world!
Whofe heav'nly softness far tranfcends his shape,
By whom this miracle was first atchiev'd,
O! deign thou to instruct me where I am;
And how to name thee by true character,

Angel,

Angel, or mortal! Once I had a friend,
Who, but till now, ne'er left me in distress.
Her ftep was harmony, at which my heart
With transport flutter'd; and her gracious hand
Supplied me with whate'er my wifh cou'd form;
Supply, and transport ne'er fo wifh'd before!
Ne'er, when fo wanted, yet, so long denied!
Ah! did I leave her in that darkfome world?
Or rather dwells fhe not in these bright realms,
Companion fit for fuch fair forms as thine?
O! teach me, if thou canft, how I may find
This gentle counsellor; when found, how know
By this new fenfe, which, better still to rate
Her worth, I chiefly wish'd. The lovely form
Replied, In me behold that gentle friend,
If ftill thou own'ft me fuch. O yes, 'tis fhe,
He cried; 'tis LYDIA ! 'tis her charming voice!
O! speak again; O! let me prefs thy hand :
On these I can rely. This new-born sense
May cheat me. Yet fo much I prize thy form,
I willingly would think it tells me true.'

The battle of Edge-Hill is describ'd in the following manner;
As pent-up waters, fwell'd by fudden rains,
Their former bounds difdain, and foam and rage,
Impatient of restraint; 'till, at fome breach,
Outward they burft impetuous, and mock
The peasant's feeble toil, which strives to check
Their headlong torrent; fo the royal troops,
With martial rage inflam'd, impatient wait
The trumpet's fummons. At its sprightly call,
The airy feat they leave, and down the steep,
Rank following rank, like wave fucceeding wave,
Rush on the hostile wings. The hostile wings,
Unable to fuftain the furious shock,

Give way, and foon their safety seek in flight.
They, with augmented force, and growing rage,
The flying foe purfue, and ftrew the field
With mangled carcafes. But too fecure!
And deeming as of vict'ry cheaply gain'd
O'er daftard minds, in wordy quarrels bold,
But flack, by manly deeds, t'enforce their claim;
In chace, and plunder long they waste the day,
And late, of order negligent, return.
Mean while the center, by bold Essex led,
A cool, experienc'd chief! with the rough shock

Unmov'd,