Mifs Vor. Certainly, elfe what would have been the use of giving the fête? Then the company; fuch charming eccentricity, fuch characters out of character. We had a noble Peer bowing for custom to his shop, and an Alderman turning over the mufic leaves for the celebrated Soprano; an orator's lady detailing her husband's three-hours speech in Parliament, and the orator himself defcribing how puppets are managed at the Fantoccini; we had grandmothers making affignations with boys, and the children of Ifrael joining the host of Pharoah.Oh! my dear Mifs Vortex, why don't you partake in these charming scenes? Ellen. My dear Mifs Vortex, fix fuppers would annihilate my fortune. Mifs Vor. Oh! true; I forgot your uncommon small fortune; but I don't think it much fignifies. I fwear people of fashion, in town, feem to do as well without money as with it. You might be fuccefsful at play-there are points to be learnt which certainly do not give you the worst of the game. Come, will you be my protegé? Ellen. Excufe me, coufin. I dare fay I ought to be covered with blushes when I own a vulgar detestation of the character of a female gamefter; and I must decline the honour of your introduction to the haut ton, till at least they have juftice on their fide. Mifs Vor. An uncommon odd girl, Nabob. Ellen. Heavens! to what ftate of abject degradation must fashionable fociety be reduced, when officers of police are as much dreaded by ladies in the purlicus of St. James's, as they are by cut-purfes in the wretched haunts of St. Giles's. Mifs Vor. For fhame, Ellen! to cenfure your own sex. Ellen. No, madam, I am its advocate; and in that fex's name protest an abhorrence of those women who do not confider any thing shameful but to be afham'd of any thing; whofe refemblance to nature and innocence exifts but in their na kedness, and to whom honour is only known as a pledge at a gaming table, [Exit, Mifs Vor. Did you ever hear, Nabob? Vortex. I did not hear a word fhe faid-I was thinking of my speech. Mifs Vor. A pert, Gothic, low-bred creature! But her contemptible fortune fuits uncommon well with her grovelling ideas. Vortex. Vortex. Don't you talk of her fortune-it always makes my poor head worfe. You know at the time I gave her five thousand pounds in lieu of what I call'd her expectations, I had in my hands. an enormous fum of her's. O dear! I'm afraid the doctor was right-ah! mine are certainly East India qualms-I wonder if giving her fifty thousand back again wou'd do my heart any good? Mifs Vor. What! my dear Nabob? I declare you quite fhock me. Vortex. Oh confcience ! Mifs Vor. Confcience! he! he! a thing so uncommon vulgar, a thing fo completely chauffêed; befides, you know very well, it is abfolutely impoffible to exift under 20,000l. a-year. Vortex. That's very true. Mifs Vor. Some people certainly do contrive to grub on with ten thousand, but how they do it is to me miraculous; then think of your intention of marrying me to the son of your great rival the Baronet; think of his borough. Vortex. Ah! very true.-Confcience, avaunt! I have made a motion on matrimony to Sir Hubert. Mifs Vor. And young Stanley's arrival Oh! what a sweet youth! Vortex. Oh what a sweet borough intereft! But I'm glad your heart is interested. Mifs Vor. Heart interefted! Lud, how can you suspect me of fo uncommon vulgar a fenfation. I trust my joy is occafion'd by ideas more becoming a woman of fashion.I am charm'd because his fortune is large, his family ancient; and because my marriage will render all my female friends fo uncommon miferable; and because I fufpect that Ellen met young Stanley at Spa, and that she dares afpire to Vortex. I wifh fhe were out of the house. Mifs Vor No-he shall stay to witness my triumph. Vortex. Shall stay.-I'm not to be contradicted, you know; my phyficians Mifs Vor. Certainly not, my dear Nabob; but I may recommend; I'm fure no phyfician would object to your taking advice. Ah! does Ellen love you as I do? will the liften to your speech as I intend to do? would the throw away thoufands for you in a night, as I do? Vortex. Very true! very true! [Exeunt. The The Epilogue is written by M. P. Andrews, Efq. M. P. and ASSISTANTS. From fuch a novel mode of epilogue-making, we might have expected a fuper-excellent production; but there is an old faw which, on the prefent occafion, croffed our minds with peculiar force: it is" that too many cooks will generally spoil the broth." ART. III. James, the Fatalift, and his Mafter: Tranflated from the French of Diderot. 3 vol. 155. boards. Robinfons. 1797. HAD this novel been an original, we should have confidered it as an unfuccefsful imitation of the worst part of Sterne-as it is, we are at a lofs to know for what purpose it was written-for what purpose it was published- -or for what purpose it has been tranflated. The author's intention (if he has one) is to attack, by the force of ridicule, the doctrine of predeftination; in making James, an egregious fatalift, relate the hiftory of his amours, which, through three tedious volumes, are interlarded with defultory, uninterefting episodes; and the end of the third volume leaves the reader just as wife as the beginning of the first. ART. IV. Love at First Sight: A Novel: From the French; with Alterations and Additions. By Mrs. Gunning. 5 vol. 15s. fewed. Lowndes. 1797. THE title-page of this novel informs the public, that it is a tranflation from the French; and, indeed, the frivolity of its incidents, and the ridiculous romance of its love-tales, favour much of a bad French writer. The plot cannot be delineated, for none exifts; it is a mafs of affectation, abfurdity, and improbability, neither interefting nor amufing. One fpecimen we fhall give of the unnatural monftrofity of the characters:-The hufband husband of the heroine is represented as fenfible, affectionate, and humane, loving his wife to idolatry, and giving up every ambitious view to live in happiness with her yet this fond husband, this godlike man, centers all his love upon his eldest fon, merely because he is his eldeft; exults, in the moft brutal manner, on the death of his other children; and acts unkindly to his wife whenever another is born. Nay, he goes fo far, that he banishes his only living child (except the favourite) the moment it comes into the world ;—and yet, all this time, he loves, and is beloved!-Can any thing be fo unnatural?-The prepofterous idea which the title of the book conveys, however it may be true in particular inftances, certainly does not warrant a writer to ground the plot of his book upon it in such a manner, as to make every one of his heroes or heroines fall in love at firft fight :-but this is the cafe in this admirable production; and, to complete its abfurdity, the leading lady of the story becomes enamoured even ofa man's name ! If this were the genuine work of Mrs. Gunning, we fhould be apt to exclaim- Lord, mend her invention !' as it is a translation-we fay-Lord, mend her taste!' ART. V. Wives as they Were, and Maids as they Are: A Comedy, in five acts: performed at the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden. By Mrs. Inchbald, pp. 96. 25. Robinfons. 1797. SOME inaccuracies in our former account of this Comedy, we beg leave to correct by the following ftatement: ART. VI. Sonnets, and other fmall Poems: By T. Park. pp. 120. fine paper, fmall 8vo. 5 plates, 6s. boards. Sael. 1797. WITH us all is polish and neatness: sublimity and force we have loft. Our affections are polished, our poetry is polifhed; our mufic and our buildings are the fame. What Duff faid of Mufic, may be well affirmed of our poetry : "It is much to be regretted, that our modern mafters in this art have, in general, endeavoured to render their compofitions pleafing to the ear, rather than affecting to the heart." Pope, in this kingdom, began that polifh of poetry, which detracted much from his merit as an original, and fet up that burnishing taste which has degenerated the English mufe: The following Sonnet will prefent a fair specimen of this gentleman's powers: TO THE REV. MR. MASON. Brother of our poetic eagle, Gray, Thro' whofe twin-foul, with fancy's fplendent fires, Science and virtue blend so warm a ray, That Envy's felf reluctantly admires. By thee, whose praise has wak'd far other lyres, Be my wild carol with acceptance crown'd; |