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cold wintry blaft by providing them with the softest leather gloves. Every gentleman's library is also indebied to him for the neat binding of his books, for the sheath of his sword, and for cases for his instruments; in short, not to be tedious in mentioning the vari. ous uses of leather, there is hardly any furniture or ucenfil of life but the Sheep contributes to render it either more useful, convenient, or ornamental.'

The present state of the wool-trade is thus summarily exhibited:

• The reason why the farmer or wool-grower became regardless of his wool, was not from a despair of selling fine wool, but from his being enabled by the improving state of his country (arising from its increased commerce, riches, and luxury) to make the flesh of the sheep a principal object of attention; a larger breed of sheep was therefore adopted, which naturally produced a coarser kind of wool; but finding the natural feed of the country would not maintain this new sort, he had recourse to artificial grasses and turnips, which latter is found very injurious * to wool, but the farmer still made as much money from his feece as he did before, though sold at a less price, because of the increased quantity of it; and this is still the language of every farmer of the West of England, who finds his coarse wool fell as readily as his fine formerly did; for to one man who buys a coat of fine wool, there are ten at leaft who buy inferior qualities.'

Hence our author infers that, were Spain to adopt our improve. ments in agriculture, and to exert a spirit of commerce, their wool would degenerate in the same manner as with us. His reasons against the exportation of raw wool, appear cogent:

• A good trade, fully encouraged at home, becomes the best possible encouragement to the woolgrower, who, generally speaking, is also a farmer. The subject is much misrepresented by those who affert that a foreign market, in our present tite of improvement, would benefit che wool grozver. It should always be taisen into the same argument, that on every 20s. worth of wool sent abroad, there is above 6os. worth of labour taken from the community, who in lieu of that deprivation must sublift on jomething, and that must ultimately fall on the landbolder. No circumstances can justify the ftep but a great redundancy of wool at home, and when such a cafe happens, it is time enough to seek it. Let us for instance suppose, that half our next year's growth of wool is exported, and it arises to double the price, what is the consequence? the manufakturer receives his order from the merchant on the usual terms, but finds, from the great advance of wool, he shall not save himself, he must therefore decline the order, unless he can get such a price of the merchant as to insure him fome proft, (a little advance upon an article of manufacture will

* I have heard an eminent woolftapler say, that the effects of turnip feeding are so pernicious to fine wool, that he can diftinguish it while drawing it apart in his fingers, from its acquired harthness. This is a very serious consideration.'


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turn the current of a trade, though no such effect happens on such articles of life as corn, sugar, groceries, &c. which must be bought) lhe merchant not having this in his power, returns the order to his agent abroad, and the clothier remains without a trade, accumulating a heavy stock of materials made at a dear rate: his first step to save bimself and family from ruin, is to discharge bis work-folks, of which any manufacturer of consequence employs from 500 to a 1000. In consequence of this loss of trade from rise of wool, many 100,000 people are thrown out of bread, the effect of which is uni. versal distress and discontent, and God knows where the evil would end! The first object of the mob would be to procure the names of those who voted for the exportation of wool, and their lives would be probably the sacrifice! and the next fiep would be a numerous emigration to that country to which the wool was conveyed, which no doubt would be glad to receive them; as was actually the case with the Brabanters under their Duke Wenceslaus in the 14th century; with the Dutch upon the introduction of the Spanish Inquiflion; with the French under Louis the 14th, upon the revocation of the edi&t of Nantz; and in Spain under Ferdinand, upon his compulfion of the Moors to change their religion, &c. &c. Furtber, if á lesser exportation takes place than the half, or even so much as to distress the manufakturer, and induce him to lessen his trade from a doubt of advantage, the evil will be nationally felt, more or less, according to the circumflances and extent of the evil.

To this may be added, that, as the growth of wool and that of grain interfere, both cannot be cultivated for exportation. Corn is entitled to the preference; as, by undertaking to supply foreigners, we insure plenty for ourselves :- but employment is as necessary as food; therefore we ought not to part with wool, before it is work, ed up into some form for use.

Persuaded that the views of Dr. Anderson are as public spirited and liberal as those of this nameless writer, whoever he may be ; when he so freely animadverts on a respectable known character for difference in opinion, we leave to his reflection what an cager opponent might make of the following paragraphs:

• Wherever Agriculture greatly flourishes, and lands are highly cultivated and enclosed, it is impossible to raise fine clothing wool. The loss of Spanish wool is not so much feared by us, from any embargo Spain may lay upon it, as from the consequences of a better Government, encouraging arts, and improving their husbandry, and the cultivation of their lands. This event may not be so distant as we may suppose ; and in this case, where Mall we obtain fine wool, unless we can rear is ourselves?

• This is another reason why we should, by all the means in our power, endeavour to cultivate the growth of fine wool in our own jlland.'

That is, we should, by all the means in our power, endeavour to perform what has been previoufly declared an impoflibility!


Art. 23. Sonnets from Sbakespeare. By Albert. 8vo.

pp. 76.
25. 6d. Debrett.

1791. To manufacture poetry from the poetry of Shakespeare, is no difficult atchievement. Having such divine materials, the production of beaucies seems almost inevitable : but to make our immortal bard less beautiful than he is in himself, is an undertaking entitled to no thanks; and to attempt to augment his beauties would be deemed the very acme of poetic presumption. The writer, who here affumes the signature of Albert, is not so vain as to think of the latter; and it is no more than justice to own, that, in his transposition of the language of Shakespeare, and in the exposition of his sentiments in the connet form, he has shewn some degree of taste and elegance. The sonnets have unequal merit. The following, from the wellknown passage in Twelfth Night, act 2, scene 4, Sbe never told her love, &c. we transcribe as a favourable specimen :

• Ah! how I mourn the doubly hapless maid,

The pangs of hopeless paflion doom'd to prove,
By her own heart too good—too soft-betray'd,

Who can't conceal--and dares not tell-her love.
Oft have I seen her-would you ak her tale?

It was a blank- her love she would not speak;
But like a worm, the let concealment pale

Feed on the beauties of her damak cheek:
Thought, flow consuming, prey'd upon her form,

A green and yellow hue her charms o'ercast,
Like Tome fair flower that links before the storm,

Crope in its bloom by the inconstane blast;
Yet food like Patience, hopeless of relief,
Mute-sadly smiling-monument of grief!

These fonnets are 40 in number. The original passages of the
poet, from which they are taken, are subjoined.' The greater
number of them have already appeared in the Gazetteer and Morning

Moo-y. Art. 24. For the Year 1792. To the Academicians. Bad Pictures

placed in a good Light. By Sir Solomon Gundy, LL, D. F.R.S. F.A.S. R.A. et M.P. 4to. pp. 18. is, 6d. Ridgway.

If, according to this imicaior (OʻImitatores, Servum Pecus!) of
Peter Pindar, the exhibiting painters, of the year ninety-two, were
but a bad set, we may venture to hint, that few of our poets, of the
same period, have much claim to a higher character :-" D'ye
underitand me now *}" Sir Solomon !
Art 25. Elegy written in a London Church-yard. 4to. 15. Bell,

Oxford - street. 1792.
A not inelegant tribute, on the plan of Gray's elegy, to the me-

• See p. 22. of Sir Solomon's pamphlet.


mory of Edwin, who has so often set the theatre in a roar. The epitaph has

a lame and impotent conclusion."
• No farther seek his praise or blame to scan

Or prais'd or pilied - Edwin was a man.' In one of the stanzas of the elegy, man also rhimes to scan. In the fame ftanza, the more than virtuous are exhorted to go and fin no more; which, to the more than virtuous, is superfluous advice.

The scene of this elegy is Covent-Garden church-yard, where the comic head of Edwin rests. Adieu! thou

Paffime of genius--made in Fancy's game.' Reviewers have often enjoyed thy more than comic powers! Moog. Art. 26. Monody written at Marlock, October 1791. By the Rev. W. L. Bowles. 4to. pp. 20.

is. 6d. Dilly. 1791. In poetry, the judicious union of moral sentiments with descrip. tions of nature is always highly pleasing. It is this circumstance which diffuses an inexpressible charm over that universally admired production of Thompson's muse, The Seasons. Among the small pieces, which have peculiar excellence in this way, may be mentioned Dyer's Grongar Hill. Of the same kind, is the Monody before us.

The poet appears to have viewed the romantic scenery of Matlock with a mind disposed to melancholy mufing; his pen live contemplations are expresied in verse, which at once discovers a lively fancy and a correct taite, and which will not fail to awaken similar feelings in every kindred bosom. He thus addresses the Derwens:

· Thee, quiet stream ! with other thoughts I view,
Like Peace, a hermit in some craggy dell
Retir'd, and bidding the loud throng farewel,
I see thee ftill thy peaceful course pursue,
Making such gentle music as mighe cheer
The weary passenger that journeys near.

Such are che songs of Peace in Virtue's shade,
Unheard of Folly, or the vacant train
That pipe and dance upon the noon-tide plain,
Till in the dust together they are laid ;
But not unheard of him, who fis fublime
Above the clouds of this tempestuous clime,
li's fir and Itrife, to whom more grateful rise
The humble incense, and the still imall voice
Of those that on their pensive way rejoice,
Than thouts of thousands echoing to the skies,
Of songs of triumph pealing round the car
Of hard Ambition, or the Fiend of War,
Sated with flaughter-Nor may I, sweet stream,
From thy lone banks and limits wild depart,
(Where now I meditaie my pensive theme)
Without some mild improvement on my heart
Pour'd sad, yet pleasing: fo may I forget
The crosses and the cares that sometimes fret
Life's smootheft channel, and each with prevent
That marrs the filent current of Content!'




Two other small, but beautiful, pieces are added, entitled, The African,'-and · On leaving a Place of Residence.' Art. 27. The Discarded Spinster ; or a Plea for the Poor, on the Impolicy of Spinning Jennies. A Poem.


pp. 29. 60. Brooke. 1791.

These verses are written under a strong persuasion that the machines, which have been introduced for abridging labour, whatever advantage they may have afforded to the manufacturers, and even to the labouring poor of large towns, have been exceedingly detria mental to the circumjacent country; which has, by these means, been deprived of its usual supply of labour. The author is also of opinion, that, by means of British machinery, manufactories will, in a few years, (to che ruin of British commerce,) be established ia countries, where such establishments would otherwise have been inpra&icable. On this latter argument, he thus expatiates :

The Poor are with you always." Spare a text
With no dark terms, or myftic points perplext,
And give it place upon the score of gain,
Tho' every text per contra you disdain.
“ The Poor are yours for ever," and their toil
Ever remains a rich productive soil ;
Not so th’inventions of the changeful day,
Which rise like vapours but to pass away.
Labour is a pofleffion, an estate,
Fruiiful as Tempe, permanent as Fare,
Trade's other sources are but casual drift;
Mere quicksands, which cross currents fink and lift,
Is the muse righe?-

To Reason's cheque apply;
Or let the files of past experience try! -
Whence, fairly posted, lo! th'eventual fum
Decides at once to what your JENNIES come:
Which though just now confin’d to Britain's iile,
And Britain, like a dotard, o'er them smile,
A smile of deep ingratitude to those
On whose poor labours her rich commerce rose,
Juf now, tho' her’s-yet smuggled the next tide,
May spin for SPAIN, and half the world beside.
And thus, like Jilts who, when they change their man
Still plunder him they Ay from, all they can,
Smuggled off with the in to some foreign coaft,

Leave Britain to lament her Commerce loft.' The writer's versification, though not excellent, appears to us better than his argument. The utility of machines has long been established in theory, beyond all reasonable controversy * ; and it is now fally confirmed by experience in those manufactories, in which the machines of the greatest power for abridging labour have been ured.

See our account of a sensible vindication of machines for shortening labour. Rev. vol. lxii. p. 224.

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