The hafty fpoufe of JUNO faw
With beard prolix, and famish'd jaw,
Dare to tranfmigrate, and become
A BULL, for that enormous fum,
Would not the jealous God appal
The wretch in fome new fhape, or call
The herald MERCURY at once,

To ferve him like that PHRYGIAN dunce,
That jobber in the stocks of old

Whole touch turn'd every thing to gold?
And would not MERCURY himself
Look fharp, and tremble for his pelf,
Soon as the ISRAELITE he found
With folemn pace go lowing round,
Contriving ev'ry bafe device

To raise the stocks, and mend their price,
Could hear how oft' the monster tries,

To furnish us with new allies,

With peace how often to regale us-
And victories can never fail us-

How oft' a finking State he faves,

By friendly aid of winds and waves?

Oh! treacherous BULL, from hell deriv'd,

Worse than e'er Phalaris contriv'd,

Thou, that for curfed gold can't find
Such methods to diftrefs mankind,

And feed a nation's hopes in vain,

To fell thy bargain out again!'

In the fame file of painting are the Bear and the Lame Duck. But, perhaps, the moft exquifite picture in the whak piece is the Birth of the Taxes.

But turn, my gentle Mufe, nor deign
To dwell with that unhallow'd train;
Thy kindred bards demand thy fong,
To them thy grateful notes prolong,
Who quitting BATH's ador'd retreat,
Her frolic fports, and paftimes fweet,
And purer joys which verfe inspires,
Sufpend their foft harmonious lyres,
* To-day all haftening to attend
The groaning of their much-lov'd friend,
A Lady whofe exalted station
Demands their utmost veneration,
And whofe unmerited distress

Their pity and regret no less;

For me, I must acknowledge fairly,

I vifit at her house but rarely,

She always has fo large a crowd

Of well-bred men, who talk fo loud,

*The twenty-fifth day of November laft, at which time thi

poem was written.

Yet

Yet do I feel most truly for her,
And look upon her cafe with horror,
'Tis now, as fhe herself has reckon'd,

Five months, and upwards, fince the quicken'd,
And every moment, as 'tis faid,

Is waiting to be brought to bed;

Poor foul! what forrow and vexation

She fuff'red through the whole gestation!

And now but very ill fuftains

The thought of her approaching pains;
So many children the has had,

And most of them turn'd out fo bad,

Have quarrell'd with her dearest neighbours,
And marr'd her honeft tenants labours,
Their darken'd dwellings fill'd with ftrife,
And grudg'd them every joy of life,
Kept fuch a prodigal retinue,
Their wages eat up her revenue,
And all at fuch a shameful rate
Encreas'd the debt on her eftate,
The thoughts of adding to the number
Deprive her of her balmy flumber;
The fame MAN-MIDWIFE who, I hear,
Attended at her Couche last year,
Speaks like a fenfible phyfician,
And shakes his head at her condition ;
A ftubborn acrimonious humour,
Which daily haftens to confume her,
Corrupts her pancreatic juices,
And choler without end produces,
And when upon her brain 'tis pitch'd,
"Twill make her talk like one bewitch'd;
That when, in hopes fome good to do her,
The Doctor puts a queftion to her,
And thinks, perhaps, that change of diet
Might help to keep her fpirits quiet,
Or purgatives her heat affwage,
She'll fly into a dreadful rage,
And all the answer fhe'll bestow
Is-Aye, Aye, Aye, or No, No, No.

Such fymptoms make her friends begin
To think there's fomething wrong within,
That needs must take before the fummer
The use of all her members from her,
Which in a broken conftitution
Muft foon bring on her diffolution.

Then fay, Oh! fay, ye learned leeches,
Whofe fashionable doctrine teaches
That infants bear no mark nor fign
Of things for which their mothers pine,
And evils which affli& the parent
Are never in the child inherent,

Say,

Say, from this lady fo affected
What progeny can be expected?
For me, (although 'tis rarely found
That poets are for truth renown'd)
I'll boldy venture to fuppofe

She'll bring with ftrong convulfive throws
Some ill-fhap'd brat, of mien moft horrid,
With marks of blood upon it's forehead,
An odious imp, whofe bleared fight
Abhors the window's chearful light,
Will fquint at every human foul
And long to fconce him on the poll;
Will pine for ev'ry thing it fees,
E'en for a bit of dirt will teaze,
And rather than that bit refuse,
Will eat it from a ploughman's fhoes ;
Long of his half-pence to unload
The meanest traveller on the road;
A horse, a carriage, or a fervant

Will tear and shatter every nerve on't,
And fight of every little tit

Will give it a convulfion fit;

And when the nurfe has cloath'd and fed it

With pap, fhe borrows on the credit

Of Doctor LOAN, whofe famous tickets

Kill knawing worms, and cure the rickets,
And given it a charm the locks

Securely up in velvet box,

Which makes it neither purge nor vomit,
Nor caft the leaft corruption from it,
I truft she'll bring her baby forth,
And much commend its parts and worth,
Will smile with joy and admiration,
And call the monfter-SPECULATION.

Meanwhile fome goffips that attend it
Outrageous to the devil would fend it,
Will reprobate the odious creature,
And militate 'gainst every feature,
And when the nurfe begins to cram it,
Will one and all confpire to damn it:

With might and main will crowd and clamber

To get into the inward chamber,

And should they gain admittance there,
(For ought I'll venture to declare)
Might take the baby in their arms,
And hit upon fome fecret charms,
Some latent Je ne fai quoi, or grace
Which hitherto they ne'er could trace,
Might kifs the monster and carefs it,
And try in fome new mode to dress it,
And then declare it looks fo fmugly
'Twas frange they ever thought it ugly,

Might call it Pretty dear, and Honey,
And o'er a gridir'n count its money;
But though they chang'd its drefs and name,
Its nature would remain the fame,
Would fill defy their best endeavour,
And fquint as horribly as ever.

But nurfe (as all have done before)
Will fet her foot against the door,
And spite of all the pains they take
To tafte the caudle and the cake,
Will find no kind of inclination

To let them in, on-SPECULATION.'

The fame chaftifed pleasantry and eafe, the fame dry humour and claffical elegance and allufion, which have in general distinguished Mr. Anftey's performances, are confpicuous in the prefent: and if, perhaps, it had been lefs diffufive and more attentively finished, it might have been no way inferior to the happieft production of his exquifite pen.

C.r.-t.

To which are

ART. XIII. Remarks on Johnson's Life of Milton.
added, Milton's Tractate on Education. Small 8vo.
fewed. Dilly. 1780.

A

2s. 6d.

Prefatory Advertisement to this publication informs us, that the following Remarks are a small part of a work lately given to the Public, wherein occafion is incidentally taken to exhibit fome inftances of the manner in which Milton's character has been treated by fome of his former biographers and others. About the time that fpecimen was clofed, Dr. Johnson's New Narrative was thrown in the way of the editors, and could not be overlooked without leaving fome of the more candid and capable judges of Milton's profe-writings to fuffer by the illiberal reflections of certain (perhaps well-meaning) men, who may be led to think that truth, judgment, and impartiality are fmall matters, when contrafted with what Dr. Johnson's admirers have thought fit to call, an inimitable elegance of ftile and compofition. Our countrymen are certainly interested, that wrong reprefentations of the character of fo capital a writer as John Milton fhould be corrected, and properly cenfured; and therefore as the work from which the following Remarks are extracted may fall into the hands of very few of the numerous readers of Dr. Johnson's Prefaces, we hope the public will approve of our republishing thefe ftrictures on the Doctor's account of Milton, in a form to which may be had an easier and more general accefs.'

The acrimony with which Dr. Johnfon has permitted himfelf to treat the character of Milton is well known. Those parts of his Narrative which feemed to be more particularly ob

* Memoirs of Thomas Hollis, Efq; 2 vol. 4to, of which an account will speedily be given in this Review.

noxious

noxious were pointed out, fo far at least as the nature of our work and the limits affigned to each individual article would admit of, in the Review for Auguft 1779. The present Writer takes a larger field. He enters into a minute and ample vindication of the injured bard, not without recrimination on his learned historian. If, perhaps, he may be less acrimonious, his Remarks are not without a due portion of asperity: he has certainly given his antagonist a Rowland for his Oliver.

He enters into the detail of Dr. Johnfon's particular malevolence to Milton, from its first appearance to its confummation in the history of his life. It first appeared, as this Writer tells us, in his connexion with Lauder, the mean calumniator of Milton's poetical fame. What fhare Dr. Johnfon had in that dirty bufinefs, will at this diftance of time be perhaps difficult to difcover. Charity, however, inclines us to hope that his share was not fo great as this Remarker feems willing to attribute to him.

That part of Milton's conduct, on which Dr. Johnson lays confiderable ftrefs, and which fome of his warmeft admirers have thought reprehenfible, is his attachment to Cromwell. What is advanced on this fubject by the prefent Writer seems to be a reasonable juftification of him.

Milton's attachment to Cromwell has been imputed to him as a blot in his character long before it was taken up by Dr. Johnfon; who, to give him his due, has made the most of it in a small compass. Milton," fays he, "having tafted the honey of public employment, would not return to hunger and philofophy; but, continuing to exercise his office under a manifeft ufurpation, betrayed to "his power that liberty which he had defended."

66

It is hardly neceffary to apprize a reader of Milton's profe-works that his ideas of ufurpation and public liberty were very different from thofe of Dr. Johnfon. In the Doctor's fyltem of government, pablic liberty is the free grace of an hereditary monarch, and limited in kind and degree by his gracious will and pleafure; and confequently to controul his arbitrary acts by the interpofition of good and wholefome laws, is a manifeft ufurpation upon his prerogative. Milton allotted to the people a confiderable and important share in political government, founded upon original ftipulations for the rights and privileges of free fubjects, and called the monarch who fhould infringe or encroach upon these, however qualified by lineal fucceffion, a tyrant and an ufurper, and freely configned him to the vengeance of an injured people. Upon Johnfon's plan, there can be no fuch thing as public liberty. Upon Milton's, where the laws are duly executed, and the people protected in the peaceable and legal enjoyment of their lives, properties, and municipal rights and privileges, there can be no fuch thing as ufurpation, in whofe hands foever the executive power fhould be lodged. From this doctrine Milton never fwerved; and in that noble apoftrophe to Cromwell, in his Second Defenfe of the People of England, he fpares not to