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and publishing these Tales ; but we can safely aver, that they are full of cbscenity, whether “ evidently designed" or not: and apparently calculated to “ infiame the passions.”

Something of this Writer's ideas of decorum may possibly be gathered from the following Stanzas, which we quote as a specimen of his Poetry; being some of thofe few verses in this collection of ribaldry, which will bear our citation.

How oft has Boccace been translated

And blunderd ;
And Jean Fontaine affaffinated,

And plunderd?
Where is the land where Boccace and Fontaine
Have not in effigy been Nain?
Fontaine they imitate and turn,

Boccace they represent and render,
Just as the figures made to burn,

Are like the Pope and the Pretender.
Why mayn't Bandello have a rap?

Why mayn’t I imitate Bandello?
There never was a Prelate's cap

Lestow'd upon a droller fellow.
Like Trifram, in mirth delighting;

Like Tristram, a pleasant Writer;
Like his, I hope, that Trittram's writing

Will be rewarded with a mitre.
The Author of Tristram Shandy is doubtless much obliged
to this Writer, who could find no other good quality in him,
to entitle him to a Bishoprick, than his pleasantry : it is cer-
tainly a pleasant reason for his promotion ; and, if it takes,
we may no doubt expect to see reverence and gravity ex-
changed for mirth and drollery, and a House of Convocation re-
semble Comus's Court. It may be presumed also that the whole
bench of Bishops will change their titles, and be less formally
addressed, as the Right jocular Fathers in Fun, &c. When this
revolution happens, also, which our Author perhaps may think
a change devoutly to be wished, it cannot be supposed but
that he himself, if already a Divine, or inclined to enter into
holy orders, will, for the same good reason, be invested with
a higher dignity than even his friend Tristram. For if he,
who knew how to intimate his ideas imperfectly by asterisms,
be promoted to a mitre, certainly the consummate genius,
who is capable of expressing himself on the most delicate oc-
casion, in plain German, cannot hope for less than to be
promoted to the metropolitan see.

But

Gg3

But to be serious. We have no objection to innocent mirth, nor to any writings calculated with decency to promote good humour and chearfulness; holding hypocrisy in as utter detestation as our Author. But we cannot agree to call the very loose and indecent freedoms he has taken, a ludicrous liberty, neceffary to any good, or even innocent purpore. He has one advantage, however, over most other Writers that fall under the censure of our Review, and that is, we are generally able to bring proofs, from their Writings, of the truth of what we aflert; whereas we must, in the present case, desire our own word to be impliciily taken, in juftification of our censure, being absolutely too much ashamed for the Writer, and having too much respect for our Readers, to stain our paper with the necessary procfs to support it.

Our Author has thought proper to give this paultry Publication a pompous form, and to usurp the negligent and selfsufficient air and style of a master, in talking about critics and their censures. But if it be true that want of decency argues want of sense, and we see no reason in this performance to think the contrary, these airs of fuperiority and importance are all affectation. We know not, indeed, any Itronger characteristic of unmanliness and folly, than a person's indulging himself in obscenity, either in writing or conversation.

Those of our Readers, who may ever happen to read these abominable Tales, will not be surprized that we have been led to treat the Writer with severity, and his Work with the indignation and contempt it deserves.

Konk

MR

The first Volume of a new Translation of Homer's liiad, adapted

to the Capacity of honest English Roast Beef and Pudding Eat-
ers. By Caustic Barebonesta broken Apothecary. To
which is prefixed, some small Account of the abovejaid Mr.
Barebones himself. 12mo. 25. 6d. sewed. Marriner.
R. Barebones is a Genius, in the current sense of the

word; a star of the first magnitude in the Shandean Constellation. If we may credit his own story, he was formerly an Apothecary, but had too much honesty and humanity to thrive by the Gally-pot; and consequently broke. In these fad circumstances, remembering how kind the stars had been to Tristram, he determines to dig in the bottom of the

Shanden

A Real Name. 13 nidges.

Shandean mine ; and, in the same manner, to try whether by throwing up dirt he could not come at gold. Sore afraid we are, however, on the account of poor Mr. Barebones, that this mine is now exhausted; or, if not, that it is difficult for a new adventurer to hit upon the right vein. Nay, it would be inhuman not to sympathize with this unhappy Skeleton, when we have his own unquestionable word for it, that he was ruined by the integrity and fimplicity of his heart. None of tho e arts did he practise by which his brethren of the mortar thrive; no mixture of chalk and water did he vend for pearl-julep, nor fought he to be in emlonpoint himself, by emaciating his patients. Long did he struggle to live upon these generous principles, but alas !

-What could Cato do against a world,

A base degenerate world ? At last he fell, pitiably fell, and was reduced to beggaryWhat now was to be done? To live with every virtue in a depraved age, was imposible; and yet to eat, was absolutely neceffary: Mr. Barebones therefore determines to give up the inferior virtues, and accordingly Modesty and Decency are here sacrificed at the shrine of Hunger. O cruel dilemma! O ever to be lamented sacrifice! Our hearts bleed within us while we think of this good, this virtuous man, bringing with reluctance those beautiful victims to the altar of that voracious Savage. Behold the danger of once deviating from the path of virtue! The honest, the worthy Mr. Barebones is now become the lowest and moft obscene of all human creatures. The Gods and Heroes of Homer, in the language of this Apothecary, might teach fcurrility to Water-men; and the dialect of his mortal and immortal Ladies, would raise a blush on the boldest cheek in Covent-Garden.

If we mistake not, this Author has before now smarted under our critical rod; with such low virulence has he bespattered us in the account of his life.- No abuse, however, from Mr. Barebones shall change our pity into resentment. We most sincerely wish him that dinner which he declares he wants; and that we may help him to one or two more than he could otherwise procure, we shall make the following favourable quotations from his book.

The interposition of Pallas between Agamemnon and Achilles, in the first book, is thus comically translated :

Had
you

but seen Achilles fret it,
I think you never could forget it.

A fight fo dreadful ne'er was seen,
Ee lweat for very rage and spleen:
Long was hc balanc'd at both ends,
When reason mounted, rage descends ;
The last commanded, Sword lug out;
The first advis'd him not to do't.
With half-drawn weapon fierce he stood,
Eager to let the General blood;
When Pallas, swift descending down,
Hit him a knock upon the crown:
Then roar'd as loud as the could yelp,
Lugging his ears, 'Tis I, you whelp.
Pelides wonder'd who could be
So bold, and tuin'd about to see.
He knew the brightness of her eyes,
And loud as he could baws, he cries,
Goddess of Wisdom ! pray what weather
Has blown your goat-skin doublet hither?
Howe'er thou com't quite opportune,
To see how basely I'm run down;
Thou com't molt a propos incog.
To see how I will trim this Dog :
For by this rusty blade, his life
Or mine shall end this furious strife.
To whom, reply'd the blue-ey'd Pallas,
I come to save thee from the gallows ;
Thou’rt surely either mad or drunk,
To threaten murder for a punk :
Prithee now, let this passion cool,
For once be guided by a Fool:
I flew like lightning from above,
Thy dreadful fury to remove;
For white-armd Juno bid me say,
Let Rcalon now thy passion (way,
And
angry

be another day:
As droll and farcical is Jove's reply to the request of The-
tis, in the same book.

Then answers he who rolls the thunder,
I'm much amaz'd, and greatly wonder,
That you should thus attempt, with tears,
To set my Rib and me by th' ears ;
This, by my soul! will make rare work!
Juno will raie me like a Turk.
You surely know, and have known long,
The D- -i cannot match her tongue;
To Troy, I'm sure, I wish full well,
She ne'er forgets that tale to tell :

But

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But get you gone, left the should fee;
Your suit, depend, shall granted be.
With head (observe) I'll give a pod,
That cannot be revers’d, by G-d:
The Thunderer then his noddle shakes,
And Greece, like city.custard, quakes.
Thetis, well pleas'd the Greeks to fouse,

Dives under water like a goose. As Jupiter guessed, so it happened ; Juno falls upon him with all the virulence of tongue, and roafts him in the language of a genuine modern spouse.

'Tis mighty civil, on my life,
To keep all secrets from your Wife:
Is this the method, Mr. Jove,
You take to thew your Wife your

love?
Pray, who's that brimstone-looking Quean,
With whom you whispering was seen?
Perhaps your'e fet some secret talk,
And I'm impertinent to ask.
Is there a Wife 'tween here and Styx,
Like me would bear your whoring tricks?
But goodman Royster! I'd have you know,

Tho you are Jove, I still am Juno! Thus Mr. Barebones improves upon the fimilies of his Author :

As when a bonfire, with a noise,
is kindled by the parish boys ;
It catches first the straw, then rushes,
And seizes on the dry furze bushes;
Which causes such a dev'lish glaring,
That half the fools i'th' town Itand Itaring.
Just so the Grecians' polish'd shields
Darted a glaring round the fields.
For noise and order to the fight
They look'd like wild-geesc in their flight;
Who, as they light upon the ground,
With gabbling make the air resound.

Thus num'rous and confus'd they seem,
Before they reach'd Scamander's stream:
And, as they haftend to the shore,
They made the very Welkin roar.
Thick as the flowers adorn the land
Upon the river's bank they ftand;
Or, thick as leaves upon the trees,
Before they feel th' Autumnal breeze;
Or swarms of fies that find a crop
Of sugar in a Grocer's shop.

Agamemnon's

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