Art. 45. An attempt to explain a Punic Infcription, lately discovered in the Ifland of Malta. By John Swinton, B. D. This infcription is the fame with that mentioned by the Abbe Barthelemy, in the fupplement to the Journal des Sçavans for December 1761; and from which he deduced a new Phoenician alphabet. Mr. Swinton differs in his conjectures from the Abbè Barthelemy and M. de Guignes; who conceived the Phoenician alphabet to be almoft entirely Syriac. But as what is advanced on both fides on so obscure a subject, is, probably, after all, but mere conjecture, we must refer it entirely to the antiquarians. The Aftronomical and Mathematical Papers, will be confidered in our next, and conclude the Article. INDEPENDENCE, a Poem. Addreffed to the Minority. By C. Churchill. 4to. 2s. 6d. Almon, &c. IN NDEPENDENCE is, indeed, a glorious theme! But what is Independence? This our Bard fhould have told us: but this is not to be discovered from the poem before us. It is not our duty on this occafion, to define what it is; but we will venture to fay what it is not. Independence, then, is not the privilege of abufing a Lord, or of libelling a nation. It is not the privilege of fatirizing the vices of others, without blushing to expose our own. In few words, Independence is not the licence of faying and doing what we will, but rather, the power of saying and doing what we ought. The Stoics will tell us, and perhaps in this they are not wrong, that he only is truly independent, who is wife and virtuous. It matters not that we are free from the dominion of others; if we are not mafters of ourfelves, we are ftill dependent. But, our animated Bard laughs at thefe mufty precepts. His guide is uncontrouled Fancy. On he preffes towards the fummit of Parnaffus, (which, alas! he will never reach) and cares not whom or what he overturns in his way. He writes as if he was independent of the rules of decency, the dictates of truth, the principles of juftice, the laws of his country-and what, in a fon of Apollo, may be deemed fill greater prefumption, he writes as if he was independent of the rules of poetry. A favage kind of Independence this! And yet this is the Independence he claims. Hear him fpeak, we beg pardon! we mean, hear him fing, good Reader: Happy the Bard [tho' few fuch Bards we find] As As to the first line, it is evidently borrowed from an old head of a copy by which children are taught to write, and in the original ftands thus Happy the boy (tho' few fuch boys we find) Who well his writing, and his book, doth mind. But the fecond line of this couplet is much fuperior to that of our Author; for 'bove controulment, is certainly a most aukward phrafe, and fuch a one as the Compleat Penman would never have fuffered to escape him. The fentiment in the third quoted verfe, is truly admirable, and perfectly in character. Dares unabash'd in every place appear! It muft, undoubtedly, be a peculiar happiness to discard all sense of fhame, and to appear with unblufhing impudence in every place, and in every character, alike. Such a Bard, we are told, is no less happy in difregarding all diftinctions of political fubordination, than he is in difcarding the blufhes of modefty; and, confequently, When, fweeping forward with her peacock's tail, He views her with a fix'd contemptuous eye. The image of the peacock's tail, has a good effect in this place; but the paffage would have been infinitely heightened, had the Author, by way of contrast, given the Bard the reddening hopours of the turkey. But who are those who, we are told, Have bafely turn'd Apoftates, have debas'd And caus'd their name to ftink thro' all the land. An heavy charge this! and if there be fich a man, who has bafely turned Apoftate! who has debas'd the dignity of his office! who, like the Priests the fons of Eli, has difgraced the altar before which he ftood-if there be fuch a man, and fuch a Bard, it is, indeed, with the greatest propriety that he is faid to have caused his name to ftink thro' all the land. The elegance, the harmony, and eafe of the following verfes, page 3, are not, perhaps, to be equalled by any thing called veife in the English language: She gave them eyes, And they could fee-fhe gave them ears-they heard- Page 5, Can any thing in verfe be more elegant and harmonious than the following couplet; when the Author fpeaks of the cafual honours of birth? Had Had Fortune on our getting chanc'd to shine, Their birthright honours had been your's or mine. 'This is, indeed, to debase the language of thofe Maids who pour the genuine ftrain. In the fame page we meet with the following marvellous comparison between a Bard and a Lord: 6 • Obferve which word the people can digeft most readily, which goes to market beft, which gets moft credit, whether men will truft a Bard, because they think he may be juft, Or on a Lord will chufe to rifk their gains.' But what is this, Reader, you cry? Is it poetry? Cut it into lines of ten fyllables and try. Who goes to market beft? O beauty of elegance! O fweetness of harmony! Who goes to market beft? O glowing exertion! not of poetical, but of culinary fire! Yet, amidst this vernacular inelegance, this vulgarity of fentiment and diction, the following fcene of weighing a Lord against a Bard, must be allowed to poffefs an odd fpecies of whimsical humour, which will make the Reader laugh from very different motives: A BARD-A LOR D-let REASON take her fcales, 'Tis done, and HERMES, by command of Jove, Gods throng with Gods, to take their chairs on high, Whilft, in a kind of parliament below, Men ftare at thofe above, and want to know What they're tranfacting; REASON takes her ftand Juft in the midft, a balance in her hand, A man comes forth, of figure ftrange and queer; The Firft was meager, flimfy, void of ftrength, T With With legs, which we might well conceive that Fate In his right hand a paper did he hold, Each Goddefs titter'd, each God laugh'd, Jove ftar'd, Such was the Firft-the Second was a man, O'er a brown Caflock, which had once been black, 8 - With With fuch accoutrements, with fuch a form, Then (for fhe did as Judges ought to do, To fhew thofe briefs fhe had no right to fee) Nor think that here, in hatred to a Lord, Envy itself muft fmile at the very jocular manner in which the Bard has here drawn his own picture. The pleasantry with which he laughs at himself, might half incline one to pardon the liberties he takes with others, did we not perceive Vanity and Arrogance peeping through the mask of partial ridicule. Go on illuftrious Bard! thou art in the right road to Inde pendence. Indulge the reigning depravity of tafte: get deeper till in dirt; the Half-crowns will wash thee clean. Leave elegance and harmony to others: in thefe ftirring Times, they will not procure thee Six-pence-To ufe thy own phrafeology, They will not go to Market.' · |