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himself; that, without a confidence in a God INDEX INDICATORIU S. who made, or an interest in the blood of the Norwic, when he fhall again carefully Son of God who saved and redeemed the examine the book to which he refers, will world, felf-destruction violates the first law find that Mr. P. has not omitted the confideof nature; and, to escape the miseries of ration of his arguments. Nowwie's criticism time, the devoted victim ruhes into the tor. also on the connexion of the verse is founded ments of eternity.

on a mistake. “ Put, were his mind conscientiously im- AN ENQUIRER wishes to know in what preiled with the sacred truths of religion; county SUTELEY is situateil. It is mentioned were he aisured that, by the resurrection of by Leland, Itin. I. 108, as a religious houle, Christ, his own is ascertained, he would then or perhaps a churcli, under the patronage of manfully rent the most impetuous torrent Thomas the first Earl of Rutland. of earthly misery, from the conviction that it We shall be much obliged to PASTOR must be transitory as the cloud that some CORVENSIS for any illuftrations he will f3., times darkens the brightest meridian fun; vour us with respecting the county of Salop; that his own depraved thoughts could alone and so, we are persuaded, will be the Editor constitute nuisery, and that trust in God must of the new edition of Camden's Britannia, alone secure triumph to himself."

whether addresled to him or our Printer. Mr. Rudd is vicar of Diddlebury, in

A Correspondent withes to be informed Corve-dale, Salop.

why the language of Wales is by some called

Welcb, hy of hers Weish. Which is best? 197. A Sermon on Repentance; preacbed tbe 5ib

To the first query of CURIOS US we an. Day of June, 1791. By ibe Rev. Tliomas swer"No."-To the second, he will scarcely Walker, Curale of Ear Grinsted, Suflex, obtain the same kind of answer from any two MR. WALKER 'has in this fermon, various publications, fome minutes of the and perpetual Curale of Crowhurst, Surrey. persons of whom he may ask it.

A CONSTANT READER, having seen, in delivered, we suppose, to a plain congregacion, a few plain and incontro. expence of building Westminster bridge, lo

contradictory as to differ from each other by verrible truths, in language perfe&tly

no less a fum than 170,7001. would be suited to their capacities, and, we hope; much gratified in being informed what the with proper effect. That he has a just real expence was. The expence of building sense of the bietlings derived from our Blackfriars bridge was 152,8401.; and as excellent conftitution, and a becoming Westminster bridge is not more than 200 attachment to his Sovereign, the follow- feet longer than Blackfriars, it probably did ing paragraph is a proof:-" Happy in not cost 70,00ol. more. living in a country where Religion is

A STUDENT OF THE INNER TEMPLE “ protected, whilst the little diftinctions is referred to "The Lawyer's Magazine." “ of non-essentials is tolerated. Happy

The “particular Statement" of a Care in " in having the sacred oracles in our

Surgery shall be used when J. A. J. sends i!. " native language entrusted to our care,

To satisfy the anxiety of EDMONTONIEN"and more happy in a Monarch, the $1.5; we mention that his communication

will be used; but to him and others we re" protector and defender both of civil

peat that it is an absolute impossibility even " and religious liberty." Happy climax!

LO ENUMERAT E every letter we receive: nor

need they suppose them loft if unacknow298. Rational Religion; or;7be Fairb of Man: ledged. They may reft with confidence on a Poem; in wbib is introduced a new Difooo the regularity of the Poft-office; and they very in Philofopty, viz. she Cause of Suspen

may also be assured that such articles as, in fion and Morion of obe Eareb and Planets.

our best judgement, we think most likely to THE close of 67 pages of bellmanish be of general utility or entertainment, will verses, where miniflry and majority, na regularly have precedence. It may be as well, ture and creature, corruption and seduc. however, to mention, that those which contain tion, monaftic and charact'riftic, rhyme, is subjests for the Engraver are fometimes on. “This be your creed, your only aim and end, avoidably under the necessity of being defer. To reverence God, and be to man a friend.” sed till prior engagements are fulfilled.--Mr.

Fell's “ Electrical Machine ;" BOSCOBES. LITERARY INTELLIGENCE. House; the “New Bridge over the Taase; The Royal Academy of IRELAND

Mr. ELDERTON's several communications; have received an anonymous letter, in.

with those from Mr. MossoP; E. R. of Darclosing a bank.note of 100l. value, to be lington; Lico; MONTIVAO US; L.H.; A.V.;

&c. &c. shall be used as fuon as poflible. divided into two prizes for dissertation.

The Shrine of St. WERBURGH, a View of The subjects proposed are, “the forma: BRISTOL, &c. &c. Shall appear in our next; astion of a plan of national education," with Mr. MILNER on “Pagan Antiquity;" and “the means of employing the in- ANTIQUARIUS SECUNDUS; Original Anec" dulry of the people of Ireland." dotes of "Hasion Cook," &c. &c. &c.


S O N N E T, In Laura's verse, than in the grove, TRANSLATED FROM PETRARCH. Ev'n on the night The loft her love; ALONE Cald, pensive, through deserted from that bir de les tablety Slowly, with measur'd step, Iwandering go;

Or who, that heard you once complain, My eyes intent to Thun each path that leads

But liftens for tbe founds again? Where printed funds the human footsteps In life's

fair prime depriv'd of reft ;

Yet who, that sees that gentle breast

That hears thee tell, in truth-taught lays, No other refuge left, but, in despair,

“ How full of grief have been thy days; To shuu the world's discernment I retire; But would that magic verse forego, Since now in Pleasure's train no part I hear, Could filence ease thy weight of woe.

My outward mien betrays my inward fire, Yet to the Mufe since pow'rs belong, Methinks, henceforth the mountains, groves,

For such the force of sacred song, and plains,

To calm Misfortune's troubled mien,
And rivers, know my melancholy mind,

And give the “ patient smile ferene ;
But only there, to all beside untold ;

« Till, by its bleft and chearing ray, And yet, what savage track unsought re

“ The clouds of sorrow fade away :" mains,


O may the Nightingale and thee However iude, but Love my haunts will

Still Thare our tender SYMPATHY, And he and I alternate converse hold ?

Which, join'd to thy responsive strain, $. D.

May steal from both “ THE THORN •

S 0 N N E T,


WRITTEN IN AN ALCOVE IN KENSING. 'tis not love, what passion rules my



FT as of good, why flows such poison from the dart?

Who bids the Itorms arise, and rains descend, If bad, the torment why do I approve ?

Remembrance fondly dwells on such an hour,

Once pass'd (ah, never to return!) in this ree If with my choice I love, then why com

[pervade, (ment ? With thee, whose breast may calm content If not with choice, how fruitless to la.

Serene and placid as yon silent glade : O living death! O most delightful pain!

Concenter'd there, may ev'ry virtue meet! Thy power subdues, tho' i deny consent.

That thro' life's storms, which, frequent and Thus, like some fragil bark by adverse winds severe, Expos'd to sea, when no skill'd pilot steers, Bring chilling, wint'ry blasts on all below, Contending pallions sway my sout by Ne'er may'st thou shed of grief the bitter turns;

tear, It seeks for knowledge, fatal error finds, Or pine in anguish and unpitied woe! Nor knows itself, or what'it hopes or fears; Up'ield hy hope, may thou be evey bleft Freczes in summer, and in winter with the bright sunshine of a peaceful breaft! burns. S.D.

T. T. S.

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*HE following lines are from the pen of

Mr. Prate, author of the celebrated
poem of Sympathy.

NIGHTINGALF, &c. &c. &c.
OH, if thy pensive Muse can tell
The story of her woes so well;
If thus the anguish of thy lyre
Can more than mirth's say notes inspire ;
If more of gentle pleasure lies
In the soft magick of thy fighs ;
If, as thy plaintive tale we heir,
More wisdom fows with ev'ry tear,
Than ever joy's extatic pow'r
To foliy brought in rapture's Hour :
If thus thy tunelul griefs impart
A charm that melts, and mends the heart;
And if, as found the trembling strings,
Thy Poilomel more softly fings

HAT tho', with recollection fond, I

The calm indifference I once pollest,
And hid my memory recall the place,

Where no aft:eting care niy foul diftreft :
Since but my former joys the pains increase
Which Love's Warp dart hath kindled in

my heart; Nor can they bid my rankling torments cease, Nor banish from my mind its present

smart. Not ev'n the men whom Fate's all-ruling band

[to burn, Hal doomid o'er now, protracted fires Such pity from the foeling heart demand,

Asthey who love, but meet no kind return. Such are the torments I am doom'd to prove, The agonizing pangs of Nighted love.



that year.


9 Throw the is rafit sturtsum stryfe, TH

THE following poem, which appears not Throw the the viçall breith of lyfo

altogether deltitute of poetical merit, Is him bereft, did with the beir : was transcribed frona a black-letter sheet, Quhen gallow pin, or cutting knyfe, printed, as I conjecture, at Edinburgh, by R. Suld stranglit the, and saift my deir. Letzprevitz, in 1567, and may possibly be throught worthy of a place in your interesting

Ungraitfull grome, fic recompenice Miscellany. The subject, as I take it, is the Was not condigne to chyne offence, murder of Henry Stewart, commonly called With glowing gunne that man to teir, Lord Darnley, second husband to Mary From doggis deith was thy defence : Queen of Scots, which was perpetrated in

To the lic mercie schew my deir.

J.R. O cursit Cain, O hound of Hell, THE COMPLAINT OF SCOTLAND.

O bludie bairne of Ishmaell,

Gedaliah quhen thow did steir, ADEW all glaidnes, sport, and play,

To vicis all thow rang the hell,
Adew, fair weill, baith nycht and day,

Throw cruell murther of my deire
All thingz that may mak mirrie cheir,
Bot fich rycht soir in hart, and lay,

g Allace my deir did not foirfite, Allace to graif is gone my deir.

Quhen he gaif pardone vnto the,

Maist wickit wretche, to men finceir
My lothsum lyfe I may lament, Quhat paine he brocht, and miserie,
With fixit face, and mynde attent,

With reuthfull ruine to my deir.
In weiping wo to perfeueir,
And asking still for punischement,

Bot trew it is, the godly men,
Of thamehes brocht to graif my deir.

Quhilk think na harme, nor falset ken,

Nor haicrent dois to vtherz beir, g Bot long allace I may complainc, Ar fonest brocht to deithis den; Befoir I find my deir againe,

As may be sene be this my deir.
To me was faithfull and inteir,
As turtill trew on me tuke paine :

Thairfoir to the I fay no moir,
Allace to graif is gone my deir.

Boc i traift to the King of Gloir,

That thow and thyne fall zit reteir 9 Sen nathing may my murning mend, Zour campz with murning mynd richt soir, On God maist hie I will depend,

For cruell murther of my deir.
My cairfull cause for to vpreir :
For be support to me will send,

q O nobill Lordis of rennan, Althocht to graif is gone my deir.

O Barronis bauld, ze mak zow boun

To fute the feild with fresche effeir, My hauie hap, and piteous plycht, And dintis douse, the pryde ding doun Dois peirs my hart baith day and nycht,

Of thame that brocht to graif my Jeir. That lym nor lyth I may not fteir, Till sum reuenge, with force and mycht,

Reuenge his deith with ane aflent, The cruell nurther of my deir.

With ane hart, will, mynde, and intunt,

In faithfull freindschip perseneir: 9 This cureles wound does greif me soir, God will zow fauour, and thame schent, The lyke I never felt befoir,

Be work or word that New my deir. Sen Fergus first of me tuke steir, For now allace decayis my gloir,

9 Be crous, ze Commouns, in this cace, Throw cruell murther of my veir.

In auenture ze cry allace,

Quhen murtherars the swing fall beir,
O wickit wretche infortunat,

And from zour natiue land zow chace, O fauage seid in faciat,

Unles that ze reuenge my leir.
Mycht thow not, frantik fule 1 forbeir
To Na with dart intoxicat,

a Lat all that fische be trapt in net, And cruellie deuoir my deir.

Was counsall, art, part, or reset,

With thankfull mynd and lartie cheir,
Wa worth the wretche, wa worthe thy Or zit with helping hand him met,
Wa worth the wit, that first began, [clan,

Quhen he to graif did bring my deir.
This deir debait for to vpiteir,
Contrare the lawis of God and man,

Defend zour King, and feir zour God, To murther cruellie iny deir.

Pray to auoyde his feirfull rod,

Left, in his angrie wraith austen, 9 Throw the now lawles libertie,

Ze puneist be, baith euin and oil,
Throw the mischeif and crueltie,

For not reuenging of my deir.
Throw the fals men thair heidis vpbeir,
Throw the is baneift equitie,

And do not feir the number small, Throw the to graif is gone my deir.

Thocht ze he few, on God ze call,

With faithfull hart, and mynde finceir, Throw the ma Kingz than ane dois ring,

He will be ay zour brasin wall, Throw the all tratourz blyithelie fing,

Gif ze with speid reuenge my deir. Throw the is kendlic ciuill weir, Throw the murther wald heir the swing, Remuse all Luggische fewth away,

Throw the to graif is gone my deir. Lat lurking inuy clene decay,



with gore,

Gar commonn weill zour baner beir, No garden trim, no harvest thies bepeath, Ard peace and concorde it display,

Butiad the transport cutsthe Stygian waves, Quhen ze pas to reuenge my deir.

There Cerb'rus howls ; and crowds, with Withrobbing sych I to zow fend

locks obscene,

[freams : This my complaynt with dew commend, Dim-visag's fhadows, haunt the dreary Defiring zow all, without feir,

Oh, happier far, a cottager ferene, Me pure Scotland for to defend,

'Midit a lov'd race to'woo life's lateit Sen now to graif is gone my deir.

gleams! TIBULLUS, ELEG. X. LIB. I.

Toply, with tender sons, the shepherd's cares,

Home-welcom'd to the housewife's even. OLD was that moital, who the cavern'd

ing blaze,

[kn'd, Be this my lot ! thus long, with hoary hairs, (His kindred mouli) to falchions first re

Lingering to sing the tales of antient days. Then flaughter role, and fields were stain'd

Peace, calm my syivan reign with long reAnd fates more rapid ravag'd human-kind.


[iteers :

Thou first the furrow broke with Tab'rins Yet, exercis'd alone on savage foes,

Hence blooms the orchard, hence the vintage Once innocently blush'd the huncer's dart;


[years. Mis-taught by gold, it plung'd in human woes, With mellow'd hoards to glaiden diftanto And pierc'd a brother's, for a monster's heart.

Then Ihine the ruftic arms, and toiling Mare ; When beechen bowls the temp'rate sideboard Carousing (wains from festive groves repair,

A canker'd pile the warrior's weapons lie:crown'd,


And homeward with their lated household No fiends of havock o'er the champaign

hie. No battlements, nor gloomy fortress frown'd; And safe the thepherd number'd in his But fufter wars this halcyon rest presents ; ; foid.

Th’invaded fair with wild reseatment

burns ; Ah, tranquil days! no tumults then were

Her livid cheek and shatter'd locks laments; known ;

While, self-condemn’d, the fiery lover My heart had Autter'd at no trumpet's call;

mourns. Nor doom d, as now, the vot'ry of renown, Met hostile lances menacing my fall.

Soon cease the soft reproaches of desire,

And Love fits arbiter between the foes:But ye, the Guardian Powers, that view'd Yet know, hard-hearted wretch, such favage benign


(caure. My sportive childhood in the peaceful cell, Invokes down heavenly vengeance on thy Your care extend ! nor scorn the wooden Mrine,


. From beauteous limbs to strip the filken veft, Where Jong your holy spirits deign'd to

Toloose her treffes, Lore's deceitful thare;

To force a tear, be all: and, youth thrice. Fair Virtue bloom'd; while humble Zeal


[fair. allora

Whose rising rage can melt the mournful The sculptur'd patron of lier poor abode ; Wien ratefulgoblets from the vintage pour'd, Harrass’d on distant plains with spears and Or vaten garlands, reconcil'd the god.


Let ruffian-bandsthe spoils of love forego; Then a few wafers on his altars strew'd,

Peace, crown'd with bearried garlands, walks For pray'rs indulg'd, by pious han-ls were

our fields, given;

And thy white lap with ripend fruits o'erA'virgin child the nectar'd comb bestow'd,


HARTAGER. And simple homage gain'd the smiles of Heaven.

THE DYING AFRICAN. Avert, ye Gods, the winged javelin's wound!

TRETCH'D on the ground the panting Your shrines a porker, myitic gift I shall

Slave was laid, stain ;

(crown's, White-rod’l, my brows with myrtle-chaplets Faint mov'd his pulse; his glistening eyes wer

Around his temples fining breezes play'd; I'll pay the solemn honours at your fane.

dim ; So speed my peaceful vows !-War's tro. Wither'd and feeble was each toil-worn limb: phied (poils

(tled line : While thus unheeded fuking to the grave, Ye champions reap, and break th' embal- No heart to mourn him, and no hand to save, Sing me o'er mirthful cups your dang'rous Ainid his frequent figlis and lab'ring thides, toils,

[wine. These faltering accents from his lips arole: And stain the board with mimic camps in

“ With joy I hate to yield my vital Thro' fields of bloodshed why solicit death?

breith; Enfoughthe drives us toth'infernalcaves : With joy I view the lifted hand of death:








run ;

Soon thall my fufferings Ay before his arm, SONNET TO CHARLOTTE SMITH." And this toin heart shall taste th' eternal

WRITTEN ON READING HER SONNETS. calın. Ne'er from my mind I yet have chas'u the F thee, sweet plaintive Bard, o'er whofe hour,


fair face Which doom'd me, forrowing, to the tyrant's Fortune hath spread the sickly tints of Grief, Snatch'd me for ever from my much-loyd Whilft Poesy, thy sorrows keen to chase, Thore,

more. In strains enchanting brings thee kind reAnd hade my decp-pierc'd bosom hope no Twas then the ruffians from my clofe em An emblem meet my search far-roving finds brace

Amid the infant spring's firtt-opening Dash'amy fond wife,and tore my clinging race; flowers ; 'Twas then they spurnd my parents from The snow-drop trembles in the rufting their knees,

(feas ; Droups its fair head, all wet with chilling And scofling dragg’dl me to the whitening showers. Forc'd me from heaven's fair light, and wholesome air,

Its simple form, in rudeft season born, To close and noisome prisons of despair ;

More lovely far does seem to Fancy's eye : The fick and dying strewidth'infected ground, How piteous then, this flower should bear And ceaseless groans were heard to mumur

the scorn round

(to sweep

Of ev'ry suriy storm that pafles by ! [how Ah! would the thundering storm had burst, How far more piteous furly storms ihould The guilty vetřel from the weltering deep!

'Gainst thee, whole long is echo to thy woe! Amid the tempelt's howl and swelling wave,

Nov. 1.

T. Joyful I'd leap'd upon the op'ning grave.-Here, in the scorching of a fiery sun,

EPITAPH ON TWO YOUNG MEN, WHO My lours of woe cheir weary course have


RookshiLL, DEC. 23, 1790. Here my faint limbs have borne the bloody

Bx MR. HAYLEY. Here have 1 sunk beneath the tyrant's larh : But Aill , while rolling on the parched land, R

EADER! this ftone solicits not thy tear; I felt the tortures of his ruthless hand :

neem not this sudden stroke of Heaven Soft sons of luxury, I coil'd for you,

severe ; To grace your feast, and swell your empty

But juftly bear upon thy heart imprest
Thew :

This aweful letton which the dea! fuggeft : The rich ingredients of your costly boards, The rich may need (if Itaia'J by worldly Our sweat, our pangs, our misery affords :


[healthy lite; Think, think, amid your heaps of needless Slow death's repentant pangs to purchase food,

[blood : The virtuous pour require no chal’ning rod, How much is tainted with your brother's Lightning may waft theny to the thrvae of Mid hours of frolick hear this feeble moan;

God! Let my shrunk ghost arise, and starile at my

EPITAPHON AND BY HIMSELF groan. Oh, is among the guardians of your laws,

IN A COUNTRY CHURCUYARD. Sonie nobler son of feeling pleads our cause,

'ER the proud tomb let martial banners

wave, First in our prayers Thall rise the sufferer's

And giorious emblems decorate the grave; friend :

[ful eye, Th' litoric genius trace with gol.en pen, While those who view his hopes with scorn

And raise to gods the richi, wlocid--but meni To pangs of gult we leave, and infamy.-

Tranınıit to future times the titled oame,
I well remember, when the robber-train

And bid the offspring emulate their fame.
Led me on deck, I caft across the main
A wistful look :- Ah, if ye ever knew

Thicle, Grandeur ! are oby works, but ibis A sigh which anguish from your bosom

Requires no Muse its virtges to pourtray; drew,

Alks of the good alone the righ sincere, Think then on me! my joys for ever loft !

And on the new-laid in the pitying lear My wife, my children, and my native coast !

Of benwho, piouily adresling Heaven, My early years, in feats of glory 1peat ! My friends, my sports, my hours of calm Hope with their own bis ins may be forgiven.


Fairy Camp, June 20. content,

(more! Burst on my sinking soul." He spoke no


Hisquiv'ring lips had lost their wonted pow's 1
His eyes were fix’ul he feebly moy'd his Is not the lily nor the role,

Which to adorn thy features meet;
His pulle no longer beat! his Spirit filed! 'Tis not the beauties thate d.oli,
$. S. Nor is's thy similes so fuft and sweet;


Our conftavit hlethings

thall his steps attend, O

pour clay


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