Art. 45. An attempt to explain a Punic Infcription, lately difcovered in the Ifland of Malta. By John Swinton, B. D.

This infcription is the fame with that mentioned by the Abbè 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 almost entirely Syriac. But as what is advanced on both fides on fo obfcure a fubject, 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. K-n-k

INDEPENDENCE, a Poem. Addressed 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 privi lege of fatirizing the vices of others, without blushing to expofe our own. In few words, Independence is not the licence of faying and doing what we will, but rather, the power of faying 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 ourselves, we are still dependent.

But, our animated Bard laughs at these 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 ftill greater presumption, 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]
Who, 'bove controlment, dares to fpeak his mind,
Dares, unabafh'd, in every place appear-

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 moft 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 fenfe of fhame, and to appear with unblushing impudence in every place, and in every character, alike. Such a Bard, we are told, is no lefs happy in difregarding all diftinctions of political fubordination, than he is in difcarding the blushes of modesty ; and, confequently,

When, fweeping forward with her peacock's tail,
Quality, in full plumage, paffes by;

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 ho nours of the turkey.

1

But who are those who, we are told,

Have bafely turn'd Apoftates, have debas'd
Their dignity of office, have difgrac'd,
Like Eli's fons, the altars where they stand,

And caus'd their name to ftink thro' all the land.

An heavy charge this! and if there be fuch a man, who has bafely turned Apoftate! who has debas'd the dignity of his office! who, like the Priefts 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 ease of the following verfes, page 3, are not, perhaps, to be equalled by any thing called verfe in the English language:

She gave them eyes,

And they could fee-fhe gave them ears-they heard-
The inftruments of ftirring, and they stirr'd.

Page 5, Can any thing in verfe be more elegant and harmonious than the following couplet; when the Author speaks 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 debafe the language of thofe Maids who pour the genuine frain.

In the fame page we meet with the following marvellous comparison between a Bard and a Lord:

• 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 LORD-let REASON take her scales,
And fairly weigh thofe words, fee which prevails,
Which in the ballance lightly kicks the beam,
And which, by finking, we the Victor deem.

'Tis done, and HERMES, by command of Jove,
Summons a fynod in the facred grove,

Gods throng with Gods, to take their chairs on high,
And fit in ftate, the fenate of the sky,

Whilft, in a kind of parliament below,

Men ftare at those above, and want to know

What they're tranfacting; REASON takes her stand

Juft in the midit, a balance in her hand,
Which o'er and o'er the tries, and finds it true;
From either fide, conducted full in view,

A man comes forth, of figure ftrange and queer;
We now and then fee fomething like them here.

The First was meager, flimfy, void of ftrength,
But Nature kindly had made up in length,
What fhe in breadth denied; erect and proud,

A head and shoulders taller than the crowd,

He deem'd them pygmies all; loofe hung his skin
O'er his bare bones; his face fo very thin,
So very narrow, and fo much beat out,
That Phyfiognomists have made a doubt,
Proportion loft, expreffion quite forgot,
Whether it could be call'd a face or not;
At end of it howe'er, unblefs'd with beard,
Some twenty fathom length of chin appear'd;
REV. Oct. 1764.

T

With

With legs, which we might well conceive that Fate
Meant only to fupport a fpider's weight;
Firmly he ftrove to tread, and with a stride
Which fhew'd at once his weakness and his pride,
Shaking himself to pieces, feem'd to cry,
Obferve, good people, how I fhake the sky.

In his right hand a paper did he hold,
On which, at large, in characters of gold,
Distinct, and plain for those who run to fee,
Saint ARCHIBALD had wrote L, O, R, D.
This, with an air of scorn, he from afar
Twirl'd into REASON's fcales, and on that bar,
Which from his foul he hated, yet admir'd,
Quick turn'd his back, and as he came retir'd.
The Judge to all around his name declar'd;

Each Goddefs, titter'd, each God laugh'd, JovE ftar'd,
And the whole people cried, with one accord,
Good Heaven bless us all, is that a Lord!

Such was the First-the Second was a man,
Whom Nature built on quite a diff'rent plan;
A Bear, whom from the moment he was born,
His dam defpis'd, and left unlick'd in fcorn;
A Babel, which, the pow'r of art outdone,
She could not finish when she had begun;
An utter Chaos, out of which no might
But that of God could strike one spark of light.

Broad were his fhoulders, and from blade to blade
A H- - might at full length have laid ;
Vaft were his bones, his mufcles twisted strong,
His face was short, but broader than 'twas long,
His features, tho' by Nature they were large,
Contentment had contriv'd to overcharge
And bury meaning, fave that we might spy
Senfe low'ring on the penthoufe of his eye;
His arms were two twin oaks, his legs fo flout
That they might bear a manfion-house about,
Nor were they, look but at his body there,
Defign'd by Fate a much lefs weight to bear.

O'er a brown Caffock, which had once been black,
Which hung in tatters on his brawny back,
A fight moft ftrange, and aukward to behold
He threw a covering of Blue and Gold.
Juft at that time of life, when man by rule,
The Fop laid down, takes up the graver fool,
He started up a Fop, and, fond of fhew,
Look'd like another Hercules turn'd Beau.
A fubject, met with only now and then,
Much fitter for the pencil than the pen;
Hogarth would draw him (Envy must allow)
E'en to the life, was Hogarth living now.

8.

With

With fuch accoutrements, with fuch a form,
Much like a porpoise just before a florm,
Onward he roll'd; a laugh prevail'd around,
E'en JOVE was feen to fimper; at the found
(Nor was the cause unknown, for from his youth
Himfelf he ftudied by the glafs of Truth):
He join'd their mirth, nor thall the Gods condemn,
If, whilft they laugh'd at him, he laugh'd at them.
Judge REASON view'd him with an eye of grace,
Look'd thro' his foul, and quite forgot his face,
And, from his hand receiv'd, with fair regard
Plac'd in her other scale the name of BARD.

Then (for fhe did as Judges ought to do,..
She nothing of the cafe beforehand knew
Nor wish'd to know, the never ftretch'd the laws,
Nor, bafely to anticipate a cause,

Compell'd Sollicitors no longer free,

To fhew thofe briefs fhe had no right to fee)
Then the with equal hand her scales held out,
Nor did the cause one moment hang in doubt,
She held her fcales out fair to public view;
The LORD, as fparks fly upwards, upwards flew,
More light than air, deceitful in the weight;
The BARD, preponderating, kept his flate:
REASON approv'd, and with a voice, whose found
Shook earth, fhook heaven, on the clearest ground
Pronouncing for the BARDS a full decree,
Cried-Those must honour Them, who honour Me,
They from this prefent day, where'er I reign,
In their own right, precedence fhall obtain,
MERIT rules here; be it enough that Birth
Intoxicates, and fways, the fools of earth.

Nor think that here, in hatred to a Lord,
I've forg'd a tale, or alter'd a record;
Search when you will (I am not now in fport)
You'll find it regifter'd in REASON's court.

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 Independence. Indulge the reigning depravity of tafte: get deeper ftill in dirt; the Half-crowns will wash thee clean. Leave elegance and harmony to others: in thefe firring Times, they will not procure thee Six-pence-To ufe thy own phrafcology, They will not go to Market.'

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Churchill