Man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes." This is generally understood to have been meant ironically, as if he had said, Indulge all the pleasures to which your corrupt affections or natural inclinations lead, for he adds: " but know thou," be assured of this, "that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment.' (see Orton's Exposition. Vol. v. p. 141.)

The next Song, Sir, by Dr. Dalton, a Doctor in Divinity, begins (p. 63.)

Preach not me your musty rules,

Ye drones that mould in idle cell;
The heart is wiser than the schools,

The senses always reason well.

Here, again, Sir, the Poet and the Divine are at variance with scripture, there we are told, that "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: Who can know it?" (Jeremiah xvii. 9.) And if, by the senses, we are to understand not reason, but the animal appetites, which I suppose is the meaning, then again the Poet is at variance with the Apostle, who says "Walk in the spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the flesh. For the flesh lusteth against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh and these are contrary the one to the

other: so that ye cannot do the things that ye would." (Gal. v. 17.) The song proceeds:

If short my span, I less can spare

To pass a single pleasure by.

Which, if not literally false, so long as pleasure does not interfere with duty, yet, as it stands here, is evidently part of a system reprobated by some of the foregoing observations.

To this song you have annexed a Note: This and the following short piece are taken from the writer's alteration of Comus, by which he has certainly given more force to the voluptuous doctrine than Milton would have approved, yet has displayed a fine taste and uncommon talents for compositions of this kind." After what you have said before upon the subject of taste, (see p. 16.) and upon Milton's "lax morality" and "sophistical arguments,' (p. 181, 184.) I think, Sir, you have here written your own condemnation of the song in question, and of the following one, by the same author, and from the same piece, beginning "By the gaily-circling glass". It (p. 64.) ends with

Soon, too soon, the busy day

Drives us from our sport and play.
What have we with day to do?

Sons of care! 't was made for you.

Surely these ideas are inconsistent with the

habits of one (however cheerful) who gives to his daily duties the 'attention requisite, and who feels himself accountable to his Creator and Judge for the use which he makes of his time, as well as of all other talents intrusted to his management ?

The next Song, "Busy, curious, thirsty Fly!" (p. 64.) is amongst the Drinking Songs in the first volume of my Collection, with a third verse, which I found attached to it in some collection, and a fourth then first added. It deserves the praise you have bestowed upon it.

The next, by Fawkes, in imitation of Anacreon, "When I drain the rosy bowl," (p. 65.) contains the usual ingredients of an Anacreontic, the Nine,-Bacchus-Venus-&c. It casts a ridicule on sober counsels", it recommends the disgraceful jollity which leads to intoxication as the means of sweeping away our sorrows and getting rid of that time as a dull companion, which is one of our most valuable treasures; and it represents the quaffing of the sparkling wine, with its accompaniments, as what sets the true value upon "life's rural scene, sweet, sequester'd, and serene." How ill applied are these epithets to any scene filled with the disgusting restlessness and noise of Bacchanalians, or with

the uncheering dulness of men, who, by present or habitual sottishness, have stupified their senses! And what a contrast is here to the true and rational enjoyment of rural scenery! I cannot forbear in this place inserting a passage from Cowper's TABLE TALK on the corruption of poetry:

In Eden, ere yet innocence of heart
Had faded, poetry was not an art ;
Language, above all teaching, or, if taught,
Only by gratitude and glowing thought,
Elegant as simplicity, and warm
As ecstacy, unmanacled by form,
Not prompted, as in our degen'rate days,
By low ambition and the thirst of praise,
But natural as is the flowing stream,
And yet magnificent-a God the theme!

That theme on earth exhausted, though above
"Tis found as everlasting as his love,

Man lavish'd all his thoughts on human things-
The feats of heroes, and the wrath of kings:
But still, while virtue kindled bis delight,
The song was moral, and so far was right.
'Twas thus till luxury seduc'd the mind

To joys less innocent, as less retin'd;

Then Genius danc'd a Bacchanal; he crown'd
The brimming goblet, seiz'd the thyrsus, bound

His brows with ivy, rush'd into the field
Of wild imagination, and there reel'd,

The victim of his own lascivious fires,

And, dizzy with delight, profan'd the sacred wires.
Anacreon, Horace, play'd in Greece and Rome

This Bedlamart; and others nearer home.

Lines 584, &c.

To this I will add, from THE MINOR MINSTREL, By William Holloway, an

ANACREONTIC

ON NEW PRINCIPLES.*

"I said of laughter it is mad, and of mirth what doeth it."

ECCLES. ii. 2.

Fill the nectar-sparkling bowl;
Wake the raptures of the soul
Dissipate foreboding fears;
Banish all the train of Cares!
Spread, Euphrosyne, the feast!
Welcome every jocund guest!
Music, yield thy sprightliest strain ;
Love, assume thy tenderest reign;
Beauty, arm'd with flames and darts
Rouse our passions, fire our hearts!

Come, my boon companions! now
Twine your roses round my brow!
Join with me the sportive ring;
Lightly dance and cheerly sing:
Gaily chase the fleeting hours:
Strew the rugged path with flow'rs;
Tell me, Youth is best employ'd,
When convivially enjoy'd:

* However unpleasant the truth may be, we venture to assert, that the most enchanting of our Anacreontics have a tendency only to cherish Infidelity, and promote sentiments inimical to the principles of Christianity.