The fcripture is indeed an unerring guide, and, while the poet follows it, he has nothing to fear. But we apprehend Mr. Addifon cannot be understood in a strict fenfe, when he affirms, that Milton" confined himself to fuch expreffions as may be met with in fcripture." He must mean to in. clude likewife fuch as are analogous to fcripture expreffions. For the affertion is not literally true; and if it be not taken in this extenfive fignification, whence that fear and trembling he fpeaks of?. but analogy in fentiment and expreflion is liable to much the fame objections as analogy in incident, which has been already confidered. As to the most orthodox divines, they are of no more credit and authority than the poet himfelf, any farther than they agree with the infpired writings.We have now examined what we could find in Addifon relating to our prefent inquiry, and we cannot fay, as much as we admire his celebrated criticism on Milton, that we are fatisfied with his manner of reafoning on this fubject.

But, notwithstanding what has been advanced, let it be remembered, that we mean not to debar the chriftian poet from all kind of machinery, provided he can contrive any probable method of introducing it, without making himself fo familiar with the Almighty. Excluding this liberty, let his imagination range through the whole extent of the creation.

Let him perfonify the inanimate parts of nature, give reafon and fpeech to the brutes, transport men by invifible means from one qua ter of the globe to another, raife the evil fpirits from their infernal manfions, and call down the benevolent angels from above. But when he paffes the bounds of created being, when an earthly gueft," he prefumes to enter into the heaven of heavens, when he approaches the throne of God, and takes upon him to deliver to us the fentiments and the language of his Creator, we cannot forbear thinking, that he aims to fnatch a grace, to which his religion forbids him to afpire, and his art cannot enable him to attain in a word, that he is guilty of a moral, no lefs than a poetical impropriety.

Upon the whole, it is not my intention to depreciate the advantages of facred poetry. I agree entirely with Mr. Geffner, that it is "the most energetic method" of conveying fentiments of virtue to the human mind, and of inspiring it with devout affections; but at the fame time I cannot but be of opinion, that this end is more effectually attained by the short excurfions of the lyric, than by the more daring flights of the epic mufe; fince the machinery of the latter, in the two poems we have ventured to examine, is liable to fuch apparent exceptions; and even fiction itself, when it is employed about the Divine Being, may, for no other reafon but because it is

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afs and I may retire under the hade of its trees when it fhall feem good unto us.

How ferene the heavens! how fine a day! how pure the air I breathe! well mounted as I am, I fhall arrive before dusk.

Whilft I uttered these words, befotted with joy, I looked kindly down upon my afs, and gently stroking him,

From afar I fee a troop of men and women mounted upon beautiful camels, with a ferious and difdainful air,

All clothed in long purple robes, with belts and golden fringes, interfperfed with precious ftones.

Their camels foon came up with me; I was dazzled by their splendor, and humbled by their gran

deur.

Alas! all my endeavours to ftretch myself ferved only to make me appear more ridiculously yain.

Mine eyes did measure them inceffantly; fcarce did my head reach their ancles; I was forely vexed from the bottom of my foul, nevertheless did I not give over following them.

Then did I wish that my afs could raise himself as high as the highest of camels, and fain would I have seen his long ears peep over their lofty heads.

I continually incited him by my cries, I prefs'd him with my heels and my halter; and though he quickened his pace, yet fix of his steps fcarce equalled one of the

camels.

In short, we loft fight of them, and I all hopes of overtaking them. What difference, cried I, between their lot and mine! Why are

they not in my place? or why am I not in theirs?

Wretch that I am! I fadly journey on alone upon the vilest and the floweft of animals; they, on the contrary.. happy they!. would blush to have me in their train; fo defpicable am I in their eyes!

Bufied in thefe reflections, and loft in thought, my afs finding I no longer preffed him, flackened his pace, and presently ftooped to feed upon the thistles.

The grafs was goodly; it seem. ed to invite him to reft; fo he laid him down: I fell; and like unto him who from a profound fleep awaketh in furprife, fo was I on a fudden awakened from my meditations.

As foon as I got up, the voice of thoufands came buzzing in my ears; I looked around, and behold a troop ftill more numerous than the former.

These were mounted as poorly as myfelf; their linen tunics the fame as mine; their manners feemed familiar; I addressed the nearest.

Do your utmoft, fays I, you will never be able, mounted as you are, to overtake thofe who are a-head of yog.

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Let us alone, fays he, for that the madmen they risk their lives; and for what? to arrive a few mi nutes before us,

We are all going to Babylon; an hour fooner or later, in linen tunic, or purple robes, on an afs, or a camel, what matters it, when once one is arrived nay, upon the road, fo you know how to amufe yourself,

You, for example; what would R 3 have

have become of you had you been mounted on a camel? your fall, fays he, would have been fatal. I fighed, and had nothing to reply.

Then, looking behind me, how great was my furprife to fee men, women, and children following us a foot, fome finging, others fkipping on the tender grafs; their poor backs bowed under their burdens.

Then cried I, tranfported beyond myfelf, They go to Babylon as well as I and is it they who rejoice? and is it I who am fad? when on a fudden my oppreffed heart became light; and I felt a gentle joy flow within my veins.

Ere we got in, we overtook the firft party; their camels had thrown them; their long purple robes, their belts, and gold fringes interfperfed with diamonds, were all covered with mud.

Then, ye powerful of the earth, even then it was I perceived the littleness of human grandeur; but the juft eftimation I made of it, did not render me infenfible to the misfortunes of others.

Of the encouragement to agriculture, arifing from the potion of a paternal inheritance; extracted from a letter written by the rev. Mr. Comber, of East Newton, Yorkshire.

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Think I remember the natural Horace to celebrate, more than once the happiness of him who "paterna arat jugera."

Surely found philofophy is per

fectly at accord with this poetic fentiment, for reflections on thẹ obligations we have to a parent who has tranfmitted to us a comfortable inheritance, are certainly very likely to ftimulate us to take at leaft equal pains to tranfmit it entire, and in as good condition, to our pofterity; and if our parent has been a good husbandman, and left us the inheritance in a fruitful, ftate, we have one of the ftrongest inducements to continue that induftrious culture, viz. the fear of shame. If he was no good hufbandman, we have a motive almoft as ftrong, viz. Ambition; that it may be juttly faid, "this chief exceeds his father's fame.”

If an intercourfe of mutual tendernefs betwixt the father and the fon has been preserved, the nobleft kind, of inducement will actuate us, vix, a defire that every thing inherited may appear a mo nument of the kindness of the parent; and the gratitude of the child. If the ancestor and fucceffor havelived together upon the inheritance, a much stronger motive ftill to good agriculture will arife hence; for, as Mr. Pope rightly observes in fome part of his collection of letters, we cannot miss even an old ftump, with which we have long been acquainted, without fome degree of regret,"

In the place then which we have lived in long with a parent, who affectionately loved and was loved by us, we cannot view an object which will not awake the memory. of fome tender scene, and make us. love, and therefore cultivate to the utmost of our power, the ground which fuggefts fuch pleafing and inftructive melancholy.

Such

Such encouragement is it to agriculture, and confequently fuch advantage to the ftate, that men poffels an inheritance derived from their parents, and on which thenfelves and parents have lived!

I know a courtier, a man of taste and letters, who, though generally confined by the nature of his employment in and about town, yet endeavours every fummer to bring down his eldest fon from Westminster-fchool to his country-feat, poffeffed and lived upon by his ancestors for feveral generations," that he may learn to love it," as he expreffes himfelf.

And furely it is reasonable to fuppofe, that the heirs of fo many ancient families would not have mortgaged, or even feld, their paternal eftates to discharge debts of gaming, &c. if they had been taught to love their country-feats by fpend. ing as much of their infancy, childhood and youth at them, as was confiftent with the scheme of a liberal education.

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this ruftic retirement: but now, that he has feen it, he wonders if Tully, when abfent from Rome, is any where else. Tully anfwers, Ego verò cum licet plureis dies abefje, præfertim hoc tempore anni, et amanitatem hanc et falubritatem fequor: rarò autem licet, Sed nimirum me alia quoque caufa delectat, que te non attingit ita.-A. Qua tandem ifta caufa eft?-M. Quia, fi verum dicimus, hæc eft méa it hujus fratris mei germana patria. Hinc enim orti ftirpe antiquiffima fumus. Hic facra, hie gens, jorum multa weßigia. Quid plura? Hanc vides villam, ut nunc quidem eft, lautiùs ædificatam patris noftri ftudio; qui, cum effet infirma sva. letudine, bic fere ætatem egit in literis. Sed hoc ipfo in loco quum avas viveret, et antiquo more; parva effe villa ut illa Curiana in Sabinis, me feito effe natum. Quare inc nefcio quid, at latet in anime, as fenfu meo, quo me plus hic locus fortaffe delectt: fiquidem etiam ille fapientiffimus vir, Ithacam` ut' via■ret, immortalitatem fcribitur repudiasse,-A. Ego verò tibi iftam juftam caufam puto, cur buc libentiùs venias, atque hunc locum, diligas. Quin ipfe vere dicam, Sum illi, ville amicior modò factus, atqué buie omni folo, in quo tu ortus et procreatus es: movemur enim, nefcio quo pa&to, locis ipfis in quibus eorum quos diligimus, aut admiramur, adfunt veftigia.'

That is, "I run hither both for health and delight, when I can steal any number of days, efpecially at this feafon. This is too feldom in my power. But I have another caufe of delight, which does not touch you." Atticus enquires, " Pray, what can that be?" Tully

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