by this misfortune, when the faithful Lenoncourt came to her affiftance, at whofe approach the farmer was obliged to stand in his own defence; and the found an opportunity, during the confufion, to escape, though the scarce had ran fifty steps, when at the above-mentioned place, where we found her, the funk down through weakness and fear. This poor girl's ftory was really moving, and not dating to go back to her mother, fhe knew nobody in the world who would fcreen her; befides, the doubt how the quarrel ended betwixt her lover and the farmer, increased her anguifh. The Chevalier and myself begged her to give herself no uneafinefs till we returned, and we went to Lenoncourt's parents, under the pretext of buying fome linen, from whom we enquired into the circumftances of the eve's adventure, and found them just as Angelica had informed us. A great many blows from the crowded populace, had been the only reward for the wicked farmer's behaviour and the mother's, for they were not accustomed at Paris to punish such crimes more rigorously. The young lover's grief was a fufficient proof to us of his forrow, concerning the lofs of his beloved, and we made the old people, his parents, confefs, they themselves were defirous of having their fon united to Angelica, provided she had not been without a fortune. We therefore offered them three thousand livres, as a portion for Angelica, if they would confent to their union, through which offer we gained their approbation without the leaft difficulty. After which, we took young Lenoncourt in our coach, and when we had concealed him in a room adjoining to Angelica's, we acquainted her with her approaching union to her lover. She reproached us for being fo merry at her troubles, and we afked her whether the chofe to hear her happiness pronounced from his own mouth? At which juncture, opening the door, Lenoncourt entered, • What an agreeable fcene was it for us to see the surprise of the amiable Angelica! the charming bashfulness of her approaching lover; the raptures in which he declared to her his happiness, and the virtuous modefty with which the opposed his tender embraces, induced us fecretly to long to be as happy as this virtuous couple, and a figh arifing in our breasts, informed us of our being unworthy to participate of a pleasure, which virtue alone is able to feel. The happy lovers proved to us in the most obliging words their grateful fenfe for our generous action, and we had never feen before our hearts in fuch pleafing raptures, amidst the greatest variety of debauchery, than we now beheld in thefe glorious glorious minutes. No repentance, no fecret reproach; but the contrary, the applause of our own confcience, rendered our joy perfect. How miferable are all our vicious pleasures, when compared to a single one, that rewards us for doing a meritorious act! What power muft the charms of virtue poffefs in our hearts! The libertine himself feels it, though faintly, fhould he peradventure forget to be vicious. We celebrated the nuptials a few days afterwards, between Lenoncourt and Angelica: every time they mutually embraced each other, they annexed a thanksgiving to us, of which we became the prouder, the more feldom it happened.' After this our hero is drawn in to marry an infamous woman, who betrays and abandons him. Being ftript of his eftate by the perfidy of his friends, he becomes acquainted with an Englishman, who perfuades him to put an end to his mifery by a brace of balls; but after he had set the example by murdering himself, the count is faved by his friend, another Englishman, and referved for better times. The king his mafter, informed of the injustice that had been done him, calls him to court, reinftates him in all his poffeffions, makes him his favourite, and gives him a complete triumph over all his enemies. Mean time, he becomes defperately enamoured of an English widow at the Hague, but leaves her to take poffeffion of his good fortune, appointing her to follow him, in order to their being married. However, before she arrives, he relapses into a moft violent paflion which he had entertained in his youth for his own coufin-german, the daughter and fifter of the two greatest enemies he has in the world; and on the very day they were to be married, he is furprised to find himfelf in his beautiful widow's arms. The count now makes a very foolish figure; but the author extricates him by one of his harlequinades, for his widow proves to be the wife of his dearest friend Mr. Worden, who had prevented him from murdering himself. Her defperate paffion for the count is, in the twinkling of an eye, transferred to her husband, they become very happy; and the count marries his coufin, after a variety of croffes and difappointments. Julia, the lady whom the count debauched in his youth, reappears; and her fhame being unknown to all except our hero and his friend, fhe lodges in his house, to the no fmall difquiet of Worden and the countefs, who is eaten up with jealoufy. A young captain, whom the count had taken prifoner in an engagement, and for whom he had conceived a great friendship, falls in love with Julia, and is upon the point of marrying her, when, by another of our author's happy harle O 3 quinades, the count. quinades, the captain is discovered to be the fon she had by The former is fo enraged with this discovery, that he draws his fword to dispatch his father; but the mother interpofing, the receives the thruft, and the wound proves mortal; a catastrophe formed by the wantonnefs of imagi nation, without any inftruction or moral attending it. The count at last retires from the world, and becomes more happy than ever. Such is the plan of this motley, inconfiftent piece. The defign of the author is to furprise; and he seems to think that his picture receives the greater relief, from the blackness of the ground on which he lays his colours. No chearful ray breaks into the narrative; the hero's most exalted pleasures are furrounded with gloom and melancholy, and every transaction of his life is embittered with remorse. As to the translation, though it abounds with foreign idioms, yet, in fome places, it is expreffive, and well executed. IN VIII. Poems. By Dr. Dodd. 8vo. Pr. 5s. N a fhort advertisement the author informs the public, that moft of the poems in this volume are juvenile performances; and the reft, the mere amufement of vacant moments, never fuffered to intrude upon more important hours, or to interrupt better and more useful occupations. He therefore very modeftly intimates, that he lays no great ftres upon them, nor builds any hope of encreasing reputation upon their bottom. Yet as many of them have appeared in public, and are scattered through different mifcellanies (fome probably in the Chriftian's Magazine, where they are likely to be buried in oblivion) he was willing, he fays, to collect them together; and the rather, because he was thus enabled to pay a debt of filial affection, and to leave behind him a little memcrial of himself, with those who love him. As the doctor affects to speak of this collection with fome degree of indifference, it is surprising he should make choice of it as a memorial. It would furely have been more politic, as well as respectful to his friends, to have offered them, for this laudable purpose, the productions of fome of thofe important hours in which he was better and more usefully employed. When he tells us, that he is thus enabled to pay a debt of filial affection, the reader is not to suppose, that he has either published his father's manufcripts, or a poem to his memory, or printed these poetical pieces at his request. No: The fact is this he has infcribed this volume to his parents, the Rev. Mr. Mr. William, and Elizabeth Dodd, as an affectionate monument of their merit, and of his love.' But as his worthy parents, he fays, enabled their fon to far better pursuits, than this idle trade, and efpecially as they have now been dead many years, this infcription might have appeared with more propriety in a volume of fermons, or in the author's Reflections on Death, than at the head of tales and fonnets, the trifling productions of youth. The following are fome of the principal pieces in this collection: An Hymn to good-nature. This introdutory performance naturally befpeaks the reader's lenity.-An Epistle from the African prince when in England, in 1749, to Zara at the court of Annamaboe, and Zara's An wer. There are several tender and affecting sentiments in these epiftles.—A Day in Vacation at College, a mock-heroic poem; in grave irony; not replete with humour.-A Letter to the Author of Triftram Shandy; a rebuke very suitable to the character of a grave divine. The 18th book of the Adventures of Telemachus tranflated from the French, in tolerable heroic verfe.-Four Odes of Pindar, not tranflated by Mr. Weft-Sufpence, an Ode, written while waiting for the coming of a lady. As the author's imagination feems to be more than ufually animated on this occafion by the conflict of hope and fear, we shall present our readers with this performance. • Shall I write-or ftill tormented, Yonder firit-no, here contented, Plead, and mingle foul with foul: Doubt is death to Helle's fea. Watch! thou dotard time, move fafler; Dull machine-unlike thy mafter, Clicking even ever more! All is hurry-expectation, Panting, trembles in my breast; Since I held her hand-vexation. Thrice ten hundred minutes pafs'd! But oh rather come, release me From my foul-bewildering fear! . Shall my hand, thy foft hand preffing, Sure-fhe would not mock my smårt! Spark divine-lord man's proud boast: Hourly makes him quit the coast. And thy dread companion doubt! Send him to his proper station, Lords, kings, minifters, or court, Where the fons of expectation Fall of place and promise short: Send him to the bishop's palace, Where the poor lean curate fcouts: Client nine years law-fuit doubts; E O, White's, or good Sir P*. Vain, alas, my fond providing, See, ah fee-he haunts me here; And with fneers my cares deriding, Will the come; I fly to meet her: Hence, vain mufe, your rhymes I threw : Sure fhe's true! The following verfes, occafioned by a present of a moss rofe-bud, from Mifs Jackson of Southgate, are pretty. The flightest of favours beftow'd by the fair With rapture we take, and with transport we wear; But a MOSS-WOVEN ROSE-BUD, ELIZA, from thee, A well-pleafing gift to a monarch would be: -Ah! that illness, too cruel, forbidding fhould ftand, And refuse me the gift from thine own lovely hand! With joy I receive it, with pleasure will view, Reminded of thee by its odour and hue; "Sweet rofe! 1.t me tell thee, tho' charming thy bloom, 'Tho' thy fragrance exceeds Saba's richest perfume; 86 Thy breath to ELIZA's hath no fragrance in't; And thy bloom is but dull to her cheek's blushing tint. |