witness a reprefentation of this kind, written by one Andrieno, and called Original Sin; from which, rude as it was, he is faid to have formed the first draught of the plan of Paradife Loft. "Thofe were poetical allegories: but I confine myself to fuch as are in profe, and affume fomething of the hiftorical form. John Bunyan, an unlettered, but ingenious man, of the laft century, was much given to this way of writing. His chief work is the Pilgrim's Progrefs; wherein the commencement, procedure, and completion of the Chrif tian life, are reprefented allegorically,, under the fimilitude of a journey. Few books have gone through fo many editions, in fo fhort a time, as the Pilgrim's Progrefs. It has been read by people of all ranks and capacities. The learned have not thought it below their notice: and among the vulgar it is an univerfal favourite. I grant the ftyle is rude, and even indelicate fometimes; that the invention is frequently extravagant; and that in more than one place it tends to convey erroneous notions in theology. But the tale is amufing, though the dialogue be often low and fome of the allegories are well contrived, and prove the author to have poffeffed powers of invention, which, if they had been refined by learning, might have produced fome. thing very noble. This work has been imitated, but with little fuccefs. The learned Bishop Patrick wrote the Para ble of the Pilgrim: but I am not fatisfied, that he borrowed the hint, as it is generally thought he did, from John Bunyan. There is no refemblance in the plan; nor does the bifhop fpeak a word of the Pilgrim's Progrefs, which I think he would have done, if he had feen it. Befides, Bunyan's fable is full of incident: Patrick's is dry, didactic, verbote, and exceedingly barren in the invention*.

"Gulliver's Travels area fort of allegory; but rather fatirical and political, than moral. The work is in every body's hands; and has been critici fed by many eminent writers. As far as the fatire is levelled at human pride and

folly; at the abufes of human learning; at the abfurdity of fpeculative projectors; at thofe criminal or blundering expedients in policy, which we are apt to overlook, or even to applaud, becaufe cuftom has made them familiar; fo far the author deferves our warmeft approbation, and his fatice will be allowed to be perfectly juft, as well as exquifitely fevere. His fable is well conducted, and, for the most part, confiftent with itself, and connected with probable circumftances. He perfonates à fea-faring man; and with wonderful propriety fupports the plainnefs and fimplicity of the character. And this gives to the whole narrative an air of truth, which forms an entertaining contraft, when we compare it with the wildnefs of the fiction. The style too deferves particular notice. It is not free from inaccuracy: but, as a model of eafy and graceful fimplicity, it has not been exceeded by any thing in our language; and well deferves to be ftu died by every perfon, who withes to write pure English. Thefe, I think, are the chief merits of this celebrated work; which has been more read than any other publication of the prefent century. Gulliver has fomething in him to hit every tafte. The ftatefman, the philofopher, and the critic, will admire his keennefs of fatire, energy of defcription, and vivacity of language: the vulgar, and even children, who cannot enter into thefe refinements, will find their account in the story, and be highly amufed with it.

"But I must not be understood to praife the whole indifcriminately. The laft of the four voyages, though the author has exerted himfelf in it to the utmoft, is an abfurd, and an abominable. fiction. It is abfurd: becaufe, in prefenting us with rational beafts, and irrational men, it proceeds upon a direct contradiction to the most obvious laws of nature, without deriving any. fupport from either the dreams of the credulous, or the prejudices of the ignorant. And it is abominable: because it abounds in filthy and indecent images; because the general tenor of the fatire

is

is exaggerated into abfolute falfehood; and because there must be fomething of an irreligious tendency in a work, which, like this, afcribes the perfection of reafon, and of happiness, to a race of beings, who are faid to be deftitute of every religious idea. But, what is yet worse, if any thing can be worfe, this tale reprefents human nature itself as the object of contempt and abhorRace. Let the ridicule of wit be pointed at the follies, and let the fcourge of fatire he brandifhed at the crimes of mankind: all this is both pardonable, and praifeworthy, because it may be done with a good intention, and produce good effects, But when a writer endeavours to make us diflike and defpife, every one his neighbour, and be diffatisfied with that Providence who has made us what we are, and whofe difpenfations towards the human race are fo peculiarly, and fo divinely beneficent; fuch a writer, in fo doing, proves himfelf the enemy, not of man only, but of goodnefs itfelf; and his work can never be allowed to be innocent, till impiety, malevolence, and mifery ceafe to be evils.

"The Tale of a Tub, at least the narrative part of it, is another allegorical fable, by the fame mafterly hand; and, like the former, fupplies no little matter, both of admiration and of blame. As a piece of humourous writing, it is unequalled. It was the author's firft performance, and is, in the opinion of many, his beft. The ftyle may be lefs correct than that of fome of his latter works; but in no other

part of his writings has he difplayed fo rich a fund of wit, humour, and iro nical fatire, as in the Tale of a Tub. The fubject is religion: but the allegory, under which he typifies the reformation, is too mean for an argument of fo great dignity; and tends to produce, in the mind of the reader, fome very difagreeable affociations of the moft folemn truths with ludicrous ideas. Profeffed wits may say what they pleafe; and the fashion, as well as the laugh, may be for a time on their fide: but it is a dangerous thing, and the fign of an intemperate mind, to acquire a habit of making every thing matter of merriment and farcafm. We dare not take fuch liberty with our neighbour, as to reprefent whatever he does or fays in a ridiculous light; and yet fome men (I wish I could not fay clergymen) think themfelves privileged to take liberties of this fort with the moft awful, and moft benign difpenfations of Providence. That this author has repeatedly done fo in the work before us, and elsewhere, is too plain to require proof. The compliments he pays the Church of England I allow to be very well founded, as well as part of the fatire, which he levels at the Church of Rome; though I wish he had expreffed both the one and the other with a little more decency of language. But, as to his abuse of the prefbyterians, whom he reprefents as more abfurd and frantic than perhaps any rational beings ever were fince the world began, every perfon of fenfe and candour, whether prefbyterian or

not,

not, will acknowledge it, if he know any thing of their hiftory, to be founded in grofs mifreprefentation. There are other faults in this work, befides thofe already specified; many vile images, and obfcene allufions; fuch as no well-bred man could read, or endure to hear read, in polite company."

In the remaining part of this very entertaining differtation, we have a character of the nations who introduced the feudal government and manners; an account of the crufades, chivalry, rife of modern literature, Don Quixote, Robinson Crufoe, Sir Charles Grandifon, Clariffa, Gil Blas, Roderick Random, Jofeph Andrews, Tom Jones, Amelia, &c. &c.

The attachments of kindred, and illuftrations on fublimity, are the fubjects of the two following differtations; they do honour to the author's tafte and feelings; but for these we must refer our readers to the work itself. We fhall, however, conclude this article with our author's character and account of Robinson Crufoe:

"Of serious romances, fome follow the hiftorical arrangement; and, inftead of beginning, like Homer and Virgil, in the middle of the fubject*, give a continued narrative of the life of fome one perfon, from his birth to his establishment in the world, or till his adventures may be fuppofed to have come to an end. Of this fort is Robinfon Crufoe. The account commonly given of that well-known work is as follows:

"Alexander Selkirk,a Scotch mariner, happened by fome accident which I forget, to be left in the uninhabited island of Juan Fernandes in the South Seas. Here he continued four years alone, without any other means of fupporting life, than by running down goats, and killing fuch other animals as he could come at. To defend himself from dan ger during the night, he built a houfe of ftones rudely put together, which a gentleman who had been in it (for it was extant when Anfon arrived there) defcribed to me as fo very fmall, that one perfon could with difficulty crawl in, and stretch himself at length. Sel

kirk was delivered by an English veffel, and returned home. A late French writer fays, he had become fo fond of the favage ftate, that he was unwilling to quit it. But that is not true. The French writer either confounds the real ftory of Selkirk with a fabulous account of one Philip Quarl, written after Robinfon Crufoe, of which it is a paltry imitation; or wilfully mifreprefents the fact, in order to juftify, as far as he is able, an idle conceit, which, fince the time of Rouffeau, has been in fashion amongst infidel and affected theorists on the continent, that favage life is moft natural to us, and that the more a man resembles a brute in his mind, body, and behaviour, the happier he becomes, and the more perfect. Selkirk was advised to get his story put in writing, and published. Being illiterate himself, he told every thing he could remember to Daniel Defoe, a profeffed author of confiderable note; who, inftead of doing juftice to the poor man, is faid to have applied thefe materials to his own ufe, by making them the ground-work of Robinfon Crufoe; which he foon after published, and which, being very popular, brought him a good deal of money.

"Some have thought that a lovetale is necessary to make a romance interefting. But Robinson Crufoe, though there is nothing of love in it, is one of the most interesting narratives that ever was written; at leaft in all that part which relates to the defert ifland: being founded on a paffion ftill more prevalent than love, the defire of self-prefervation; and therefore likely to engage the curiofity of every clafs of readers, both old and young, both learned and unlearned.

"I am willing to believe, that Defoe fhared the profits of this publication with the poor feaman: for there is an air of humanity in it, which one would not expect from an author who is an arrant cheat. In the preface to his fecond volume, he fpeaks feelingly enough of the harm done him by thofe who had abridged the first, in order to reduce the price. The injury, fays he, which these men do to the pro

prietors

prietors of works, is a practice all honeft men abhor: and they believe they may challenge them to fhow the difference between that, and robbing on the highway, or breaking open a houfe. If they cannot show any difference in the crime, they will find it hard to fhow, why there fhould be any difference in the punishment.' Is it to be imagined, that any man of common prudence would talk in this way, if he were confcious, that he himself might be proved guilty of that very dishonesty which he fo feverely condemns?

out a fpirit of piety and benevolence: it fets in a very ftriking light, as I have elsewhere obferved, the importance of the mechanick arts, which they, who know not what it is to be without them, are fo apt to undervalue: it fixes in the mind a lively idea of the horrors of folitude, and, confequently, of the fweets of focial life, and of the bleffings we derive from converfation, and mutual aid: and it fhows, how, by labouring with one's own hands, one may fecure independence, and open for one's felf many fources of health and amusement. I agree, therefore, with Rouffeau, that this is one of the best books that can be put in the hands of children. The ftyle is plain, but not elegant, nor perfectly grammatical: and the fecond part of the story is tirefome."

SIR William Jones, for fince the publication of this work, he has received the honour of knighthood, has prefented to the public, in this work, a further fpecimen of his extenfive and critical knowledge of the Arabic language.

He is now on his paffage for India, and from the ideas which we have formed of his character, and from the opportunities which we have had of contemplating with admiration his exquifite tafte, his extenfive and diverfified erudition, we may venture, without incurring the cenfure of rafhnefs, to prefage, that his conduct, in the character of a judge, will render him even a greater ornament to his country.

In the course of next winter, in his advertisement, he teaches us to expect the preliminary difcourfe, and notes, which will contain authorities and reafons for the tranflation of controverted paffages. In these annotations, Sir William will elucidate the obfcurities of the text, and propofe emendations. He will direct the reader's attention to the beauties of these poems, and point out their defects, and will explain, by a variety of citations, the images, figures, and allufions. In the mean time, he invites the learned, in every part of

Europe, to favour him with their ftrictures and annotations, during the fummer.

This difcourfe and thefe notes will undoubtedly contain a vaft fund of knowledge, and the expectations of thofe literary men, who are fond of Oriental ftudies, may undoubtedly expect the highest entertainment from Sir William Jones's known acutenefs and accuracy in treating fuch fubjects; but we are apprehenfive left his station at India fhould delay this publication.

As thefe remarks will be rather orna mental, than effential, to this work, we fhall prefent our readers with the Poem of Amriolkais, which stands the first of this collection.

THE POEM OF AMRIOLKAIS. THE ARGUMENT.

"THE poet after the manner of his countrymen, fuppofes himself attended on a journey by a company of friends; and, as they pafs near a place, where his miftrefs had lately dwelled, but from which her tribe was then removed, he defires them to ftop awhile, that he might indulge the painful pleafure of weeping over the deferted remains of her tent. They comply with his requeft, but exhort him to fhow more ftrength of mind, and urge two topicks

of

of confolation; namely, that he had before been equally unhappy, and that he had enjoyed his full thare of pleafures: thus by the recollection of his paffed delight his imagination is kindled, and his grief fufpended.

He then gives his friends a lively account of his juvenile frolicks, to one of which they had alluded. It feems, he had been in love with a girl named Onaiza, and had in vain fought an occafion to declare his paffion: one day, when her tribe had ftruck their tents, and were changing their ftation, the women, as ufual, came behind the reft, with the fervants and baggage, in carriages fixed on the backs of camels. Amriolkais advanced flowly at a diftance, and when the men were out of fight, had the pleafure of feeing Onaiza retire with a party of damfels to a rivulet or pool, called Daratjuljul, where they undreffed themfelves, and were bathing, when the lover appeared, difmounted from his camel, and fat upon their clothes, proclaiming aloud that whoever would redeem her drefs, muft prefent herfelf naked before him.

They adjured, entreated, expoftulated; but, when it grew late, they 'found themfelves obliged to fubmit, and all of them recovered their clothes except Onaiza, who renewed her adjurations, and continued a long time in the water: at length fhe alfo performed the condition, and dreffed herself. Some hours had paffed, when the girls complained of cold and hunger; Amriolkais, therefore inftantly killed the young camel on which he had ridden, and having called the female attendants together, made a fire and roafted him. The afternoon was fpent in gay converfation, not without a chearful cup, for he was provided with wine in a leathern bottle; but, when it was time to follow the tribe, the prince (for fuch was his rank) had neither camel nor horfe; and Onaiza, after much importunity, confented to take him on her camel before the carriage, while the other damfels divided among themselves the lefs agreeable burthen of his arms, and the furniture of his beast.

He next relates his courtship of Fathima, and his more dangerous amour

with a girl of a tribe at war with his own, whofe beauties he very minutely and luxuriantly delineates. From there love-tales he proceeds to the commendation of his own fortitude, when he was paffing a defert in the darkest night; and the mention of the morning, which fucceeded, leads him to a long defcription of his hunter, and of a chafe in the foreft, followed by a feaft on the game which had been pierced by his javelins.

Here his narrative feems to be interrupted by a form of lightning and violent rain: he nobly defcribes the fhower and the torrent, which it produced down all the adjacent mountains; and, his companions retiring to avoid the ftorm, the drama (for the poem has the form of a dramatic paftoral) ends abruptly.

The metre is of the firft fpecies, called long verfe, and confifts of the bacchius, or amphibrachys, followed by the first epitrite; or, in the fourth and eighth places of the diftich, by the double iambus, the last fyllable being confidered as a long one; the regular form, taken from the fecond chapter of Commentaries on Afiatic Poetry, is this; "Amatorp uellarum mifer fæpe fallitur "Occellis nigris, labris | odoris, nigris co

mis."