fore you can kill him. What good man will ever come again under my roof, if I let my floor be ftained with a good man's blood? 6. The negroes feeing his refolution, and being convinced by his difcourfe that they were wrong, went away afhamed. In a few days Murray ventured abroad again with his friend Cudjoe, when feveral of them took him by the hand, and told him, they were glad they had not killed him; for as he was a good meaning, innocent man, their god would have been very angry, and would have spoiled their fishing. THE AFRICAN CHIEF.* SEE how the black ship cleaves the main, High-bounding o'er the violet wave, 3. A Chief of Gambia's golden fhore, 6. His wife by nameless wrongs fubdu'd, His bofom's friend to death-refign'd, K 2 The * Captured in arms, fighting for his FREEDOM, and inhumanly murdered by his conquerors, in the island of Hifpaniola, 1791. The finty path-way bath'd in blood, 7. Stung by despair, he fought the plain, 8. Firft of his race, he led the band, II. If later deeds quick raptures raise, Or the far greater WASHINGTON, 12. If thefe command thy generous zeal, 13. Oh mourn the loft difaftrous hour 15. Let forrow bath each blushing cheek * LEONIDAS. DIALOGUE BETWEEN MERCURY AND A MODERN FINE LADY; SHOWING THE FUTILE ENGAGEMENTS AND PURSUITS OF A MODISH WOMAN. Mrs. Modifb. INDEED, Mr. Mercury, I can not have the pleasure of waiting upon you now. gaged, abfolutely engaged. I am en If Mercury. I know you have an amiable, affectionate hufband, and feveral fine children. But you need not be told, that neither conjugal attachments, maternal affections, nor even the care of a kingdom's welfare, can excufe a perfon who has received a fummons to the realms of death. the grim meffenger were not as peremptory as unwelcome, Charon would not get a paffenger once in a century. You must be content to leave your husband and family, and pass the Styx. Mrs. M. I did not mean to infit on any engagements with my husband and children. I never thought myself engaged to them. I had no engagements but fuch as were common to women in high life. Look at my memorandum, and you will fee I was engaged to the play on Mondays, balls on Tuesdays, routs on Saturdays, and to card affemblies the rest of the week for two months to come; and it would be the rudeft thing in the world not to keep my appointments. If you will ftay for me till the fummer feafon, I will wait on you with all my heart. Perhaps the elyfian fields may be lefs deteftable than the country in our world. Pray have you a fine theatre, pleasant gardens, and elegant affemblies there? I think I fhould not dislike drinking the Lethe waters when you have a full feason: Mer. Surely you could not like to drink the waters of oblivion, who have made pleasure the bufinefs, end, and aim of your life! It is good to drown cares; but who would wash away the remembrance of a life of gaiety and pleasure ? Mrs. M. Diverfion was indeed the bufinefs of my life but as to pleasure, I have enjoyed none fince the novelty of my amufements has worn off. Can one be pleased with feeing the fame thing over and over again? Late hours and fatigue fatigue gave me the vapors, fpoiled the natural cheerfulness of my temper, and even in youth wore away my youthful vivacity. Mer. If this mode of life did not give you pleasure, why did you continue in it? I fuppofe you did not think it very meritorious.. Mrs. M. I was too much engaged to think at all. Thus far indeed my manner of life was agreeable enough. My friends always told me diverfions were neceffary; and my doctor affured me diffipation was good for my fpirits; my husband infifted that it was not. And you know one loves to oblige one's friends, comply with one's doctor, and contradict one's husband. And, besides, I ́ was ambitious to be thought du bon ton. define it. Mer. Bon ton! What is that, madam? pray Mrs. M. O Sir, excufe me; it is one of the privileges of the bon ton never to define or be defined. It is the child and parent of jargon. It is--I can never tell you what it is; but I will try to tell you what it is not. In converfation it is not wit; in manners it is not politeness; in behavior it is not addrefs; but it is a little like them all. It can only belong to people of a certain rank, who live in a certain manner, with certain perfons, and who have not certain virtues, and who have certain vices, and who inhabit a certain part of the town. Now, Sir, I have told you as much as I know of it, though I have admired and aim-ed at it all my life.. Mer. Then, madam, you have wafted your time, faded your beauty, and destroyed your health, for the laudable purposes of contradicting your husband, and being this fomething and this nothing called the bon ton. Mrs. M. What would you have had me do?'. Mer. I will follow your own mode of inftructing. I. will tell you what I would not have had you do. I would not have had you facrifice your time, your reason, and your duties, to fashion and folly. I would not have had you neglect your husband's happiness, and your children's edu cation. Mrs. M. As to the education of my daughters, I' fpared no expenfe. They had a dancing mafter, mufic mafter, drawing mafter, and a French governefs to teach them politenefs and the French language. Mer Mer. So their religion, fentiments and manners were to be learned from a dancing mafter, mufic mafter, and a chamber maid! Perhaps they might prepare them to catch the bon ton. Your daughters must have been fo educated as to fit them to be wives without conjugal affection, and mothers without maternal care. I am forry for the fort of life they are commencing,, and for that which you have juft concluded. Minos is a four old gentleman, without the leaft fmattering of the bon ton, and I am in a fright for you. The beft thing I can advise you, is to do in this world as you did in the other; keep happiness in your view, but never take the road that leads to it. Remain on this fide Styx; wander about without end or aim; look into the elyfian fields, but never attempt to enter into them, left Minos fhould push you into Tartarus. For duties neg lected may bring on a fentence not much left fevere than erimes committed. PART OF THE SPEECH OF PUBLIUS SCIPIO ΤΟ THE ROMAN ARMY, BATTLE OF THE TICIN. BEFORE THE THAT you may not be unapprized, foldiers, of what fort of enemies you are about to encounter, or what is to be feared from them, I tell you they are the very fame, whom, in a former war, you vanquished both by land and fea; the fame from whom you took Sicily and Sardinia ; and who have been thefe twenty years your tributaries. 2. You will not, I prefume, march against thefe men with only that courage with which you are wont to face other enemies; but with a certain anger and indignation, fuch as you would feel if you faw your flaves on a fudden rife up in arms against you. 3. But you have heard, perhaps, that, though they are few in number, they are men of itout hearts and robuft bodies; heroes of fuch ftrength and vigor as hething is able to refift. Mere effigies; nay, fhadows of men wretches, emaciated with hunger and benumbed with cold! bruised and |