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A LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY.

This Paper is Published Weekly, and may be had of the Booksellers in Manchester; of Agents in many of the principal Towns in the Kingdom; and of the News-carriers. The last column is open to ADVERTISEMENTS of a LITERARY and SCIENTIFIC nature, comprising Education, Institutions, Sales of Libraries, &c.

No. 53.-VOL. II.

MISREPRESENTATION CORRECTED. [From a persuasion that our friend Mr. Hezekiah Treacle has

not acted towards his rib, according to equity, or conjugal obligation, we do not hesitate to assign to her retaliative epistle, the most prominent place in our Miscellany.-ED.] MR. SMITH,

SIR,-I do not know whether you are a married, or a single man, but if you have any regard for our sex, I shall expect to discover that regard, by finding this letter inserted in your Iris.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 1823.

charges he brings against me, I do not consider |
them worthy of an answer. With his shop
(thank God) I have done this long time. He
and his young men are the fittest to manage it.
I assure you, Mr. Smith, I never was brought
up to such matters. My husband received
£1000 with me, and I think that was a hand-
some thing. I never interfere with his shop,
and he ought to allow me to manage my own
domestic affairs. I am ashamed for him when
I observe what little matters he makes of im-
portance. The apples that he mentions, for
instance, were some nice pippins which I put
into his scrutoire, that he might have one after
dinner, as he is very partial to apples. With
regard to the other matters, perhaps he may
have seen occasionally little instances of omis-
sion, or inadvertency; but, let me ask any con-
siderate person, whether, in a family consisting
of twelve persons, and among them four small
children, every thing can be always in the most
orderly state?

You must know then, Sir, that I am the wife
of MR. HEZEKIAH TREACLE, who, on the 5th
of last November, sent a letter to one MR.
MEDIUM, Secretary to the Club of humourists
that publishes those papers in your Iris. Now,
Sir, I suspect that my husband is a member of
this club, though he keeps his being so a secret
from me; for I have seen a formal mysterious
looking man occasionally call at our house, and
have observed my husband talk with him apart.
This man, I suspect, is Mr. Medium, for about
the day on which Hezekiah's letter is dated, I With regard to any little defects in my dress,
recollect the person whom I take for Mr. Me- all my friends tell me, that to wear no whalebone
dium spent the evening at our house, but not in in my stays is the greatest; and which, I am
the parlour where I was, he was closetted with informed, makes me look like a sack of flour
my husband; and I never could learn what they with a string tied round the middle; yet to this
were doing, only that it was some particular I have submitted to please some whimsical
business. I remember now it was the 5th of notions which Hezekiah entertains about the
November, for I said to Hezekiah that he and order of nature, and the symmetry of the hu-
his friend might be contriving another gunpow-man figure. But, as soon as this letter appears
der treason, upon which he smiled, but made
no reply. However, little did I think that I
was the victim of their machinations.

We have taken the Iris from its commencement, and it is always served up with breakfast on Saturday morning, exactly at eight o'clock. I have reason enough to recollect this, as Mr. Treacle once chided a good servant so for bringing in breakfast without the Iris, that it was with great difficulty I prevailed upon her to remain with us longer.

After looking the papers over, and reading aloud to me what pleases him, Hezekiah leaves the number out till the next week, that the rest of the family may read it. He then carefully lays it up in his scrutoire. I remember, however, my precise man once took a number away with him, and though I often asked him what he had done with it, he always evaded my question. One day last week, however, I went to look for a receipt for some money which I knew I had paid, and which the tax-gatherer called for a second time, and I thought I would see if the number missing was put by among the others, when I found it carefully in its order; but what was my surprise and chagrin, when I found my husband's letter to Mr. Medium in it. But, Sir, though Hezekiah says he wrote this letter to attract my notice, yet he was so ashamed of himself, that he durst not let me see it. I so far overcame my feelings as to put the number in its place, and to say nothing to him; but resolved to send you a letter in reply, and trust me I will not shrink, but he shall have it to his breakfast as soon as his coffee is ready, on the morning of publication.

As to vindicating myself from the frivolous

in print, I will resume my whalebone, though
at the expense of this supposed symmetry.
However, it is time, Sir, that I gave you some
account of my husband, since he has been so
very particular in his account of me.

During our courtship the most agreeable thing
I observed in him, was, that I never knew him
to exceed the period of an engagement five
minutes; at the same time, he would not stay
after the clock struck ten, say what I would to
detain him. He once complained that our clock
was two minutes and a half too late. The ge-
neral topic of his conversation was the happiness
of a well regulated family, and he was very
severe in his remarks on the practice of keeping
irregular hours. He declared that he was never
out of his late master's house at a quarter past
ten during the whole time that he had lived with
him.

Now, Sir, I must tell you that I date all my husband's whimsical formalities to the influence of his late master's example and his over-nice rules. Well indeed do I remember this person! He was a little, spare, nimble man, always dressed in brown; he wore bright buckles in his shoes, and a little round hat, and he never was married! I could fill half a dozen numbers of your Iris with an account of the oddities of Peregrine Pimento, all arising out of his slavery to certain rules of method. From his exactness in weighing his groceries he got the name of Split-raisin. I cannot resist the desire I feel of giving you a sketch of this oddity of regularity. Mr. Pimento used to write down on a card the manner in which he intended to dispose of every hour in the week. He had a little book of aphorisms relating to order and method, which he

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called his golden rules. This little book commenced with a few lines of poetry, beginning "Order is heaven's first law." One of the first employments of a young apprentice was to write out for his own use a copy of these rules.

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If any one made application to Peregrine for his opinion of a tradesman whether he was trustworthy, the only answer he gave was "I consider him a very regular man, or "His business is conducted without method." The Dutch were great favourites with Mr. Pimento, for he had somewhere read that this people had so high an opinion of method, that for them to say of a man that he kept his accounts irregularly was the same as to say he had failed in business or was bankrupt.

During his last illness Peregrine Pimento drew up an exact account of the manner in which he wished to be buried. He directed that his relations and friends should follow him to the grave;

not in the order of consanguinity, but according to his declared opinion of their character for method and punctuality. My husband Hezekiah was appointed to follow next to the body, and Mr. Pimento presented him with the original copy of his Golden Rules with his own hands on his death-bed; and Hezekiah prides himself more upon his old master's preference than many a nobleman does upon his title.

Hezekiah has so faithfully copied his master, that he sees but one virtue in the world-Order, and one vice-Disorder! Besides the Bible, the only books he reads, are, The Tradesman's Dictionary, A Treatise on Discount and Tare and Tret, and Interest Tables. The latter seems to please him much because he says the figures appear so methodically placed. I have several times heard Hezekiah say he once intended to study astronomy, but was deterred by observing the confusion in which the stars appeared to be placed; adding, that he could not see how any thing like order could be produced out of such confusion; for if his drawers and canisters were half as confused he should not have the courage to attempt to reduce them to method. He has so frequently read that chapter in the Bible to the family which contains the precept "Let all things be done decently and in order" that we can all of us repeat it without book. Hezekiah never gives any other opinion of a sermon than that "It was a very methodical discourse," and perhaps he will add "He has no doubt but the ininister is a very punctual man." Or should the sermon not be approved, "This preacher is utterly destitute of system."

But to give you an idea of my husband's particularities about the house would be impossible. As soon as the bell begins to ring eight at night, I have to despatch a servant to see if every thing be in its place, to save chiding when he returns from his shop. I have known him stand in the lobby calling for his top-coat when it was at his elbow, but the servant after brushing it had hung it on the wrong nail, and it is a maxim with Hezekiah, never to allow any thing to exist, except in its appropriate place. He has often threatened to have all the nails and hooks in the house labelled.

Last summer, my two youngest children having the hooping cough, Hezekiah took a cottage at a little distance from the town, and, as he said, to give his family an example of order from nature, he bought some ducks, and prepared a path for them to walk home unobstructed. In the evening he took great delight in observing the ducks come home in a line, one regularly behind another. On one occasion, however, it happened that one of the ducks saw a snail near the path, and left the line to pick it up. This so offended my husband, that he ordered the straggler to be killed, lest it should set a bad example to the flock. Nor has my favourite cat met a better fate. Hezekiah always requires his slip-pers to be placed side by side, in front of his arm chair, so as to be ready when he comes home, but puss in her play, happening to disturb their position, received so severe a correction, that the very sound of his feet made her leave the house. One morning as Hezekiah was going to the shop, he found puss at the house door, and imagining that she had been out all night, he ordered the youngest apprentice to drown her, for that she led a disorderly life. Not long ago, some friends spent the evening with us, and, among other topics of conversation, the bravery of the English soldiers was one, when Hezekiah maintained that all the superiority of English soldiers arose from the exact order kept up in their armies, and not from any superior bravery. In fine Mr. Smith, were I to tell you only a small part of my husband's singularities arising from his strange notions of order, I know not

when I should have done.

Reading a little time ago in your paper of a certain manner of deciding a man's propensities, by elevations upon the bones of the head; I applied to a person who has some skill in this science, to point out to me which were the bumps of method. At night when Hezekiah was asleep, I put my fingers to the place pointed out to me, where the bump ought to be found, and I certainly did perceive an elevation so great, that I thought he had let one of the tea canisters fall on his head, but on application of my hand to the other side of the head, I found a protuberance equally great.

The result of this examination, greatly confirms the truth of the science of Craniology, and will cause me to bear with the absurdities of my husband, with more patience.

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4 Clear, Systematic View of the Evidences of
Christianity. In addition to the important
historic matter, and valuable dissertation,
found in the most popular Evidences, the
present volume contains a collateral digest
of prophetic and historical evidence; a Scrip-
tural view of the Godhead; and a summary
of Mahometanism. With introductory obser-
rations on the popular causes of Infidelity.
BY JOSEPH MACARDY. 1 vol. 8vo. pp. 222.
London, 1823.

IT has pleased God, who at sundry times and
in divers manners spoke in time past unto the
fathers by the prophets, and who hath, in these
last days, spoken unto us, by his Son, Jesus
Christ, so to reveal himself in his Word, that
salvation might be within the reach of all his
intelligent creatures. Hence, without regard to
mental capacity, dignity of station, or circum-
stances of birth, "believe on the Lord Jesus
Christ, and thou shalt be saved," is addressed
to all without distinction, as the condition of
eternal life. The man who in simplicity, by
faith, receives this doctrine in his heart, and
suffers it to have its practical influence on his
life and conduct, requires no other proof of the
validity of God's Word, than the evidence of
its power within him. But the testimony of
such a man, and so arising, would go for no-
thing, in proving the authenticity of divine re-
velation, with one whose pride of intellect has
taught him to consider no evidence valuable
and irrefragable which does not demand, or
which will not endure, the test of recondite in-
vestigation.

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There is an obliquity in some minds which inclines them from the admission of any thing like a truism with as much aversion, as they might once have manifested towards a difficult problem; as if the flight of time was of less importance, or the certainty of death less awful, because the tempus fugit" of the sun-dial, or the "all men must die" of the grave-stone, is in the mouth of every school boy. Does health, hope, happiness, money, power, or any other earthly good, lose either its value or its attraction, beAfter all I can perceive that Hezekiah is more cause of its common-place appreciation by the precise about the full and change of the moon. illiterate as well as the learned? Surely not. I therefore at such times put a little of Dr. Then why should the word of life contained in Henry's calcined magnesia into his rice milk, as the Holy Scriptures be slighted, merely because he always takes rice milk for his supper. At it abases the pride of intellect, and promises to the time of the last new moon, he was still more the rich and the poor, equal blessings. It is particular than before. He went through the sometimes an easy thing to despise the truisms whole house and complained that every thing of Christianity through life, but not unfrewas in confusion. As he looked rather wild Iquently, when driven at last to engage in the asked if he was unwell, and he complained that he had a violent pain in his head. I thought a few leeches applied to his temples would relieve him, and after some persuasion obtained his consent to send for the woman to attend with ten or a dozen. The woman did not come immediately; and she had only just got the last leech to take hold when the clock struck ten. Hezekiah hearing the usual hour of repose announced, arose and insisted upon going to bed, though his temples were covered with leeches; and when we offered to restrain him, he declared that we were conspiring to break all the rule and method of bis house. I at length succeeded in pacifying him, after much exertion, and I am happy to add that he has been much better since, and I hope this letter may have a good effect, and help to convince him that though method is

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vulgar, common-place affair of dying-then,
has the stout unbeliever confessed the import-
ance, and sought the consolation of those trite
maxims-those soul-cheering truisms which the
Word of God affords: and these instances, we
believe, would be much more frequent, did not
a dread of being seen in their last moments,
induce many an infidel to sculk out of the world
with a secrecy and meanness, more like a gaol
breaking felon, than becoming the exit of a
philosopher.

human, as well as archangelic intellects may expatiate, and which is fairly open to the candid investigation of the rational philosopher. This, indeed, has generally been the debatable ground upon which the advocate for Christianity and his Infidel opponents have met: and perhaps it is the only ground upon which they can meet with any thing like fair and equal advantages. We say it not to the praise, but the shame of the Infidel, that to his attacks, Christianity is indebted for so many unanswered defences, and unanswerable defenders; and we sincerely rejoice at every accession to their number, how much soever we may lament the necessity which calls them forth.

Of the different treatises on the Evidences of Christianity, distinctly so denominated, or as collaterally affecting the argument, not a few have been written by learned laymen, whose vocations have not subjected them to the stale and blatant imputation of being interested advocates, to the number of these we feel great pleasure in adding the work of MR. MACARDY.

The title-page, as quoted at the head of this article, contains a pretty fair exposé of the general contents of the work, the design of which is thus stated in the Introduction:

"My object in the present work has been-1. To produce a summary of real, substantial, indisputable evidence: and, 2. by arrangement and moderate compression, to digest and exhibit it in a popular form; so as not to be unworthy the perusal of the more erudite, and affluent; and at the same time, not to tax unreasonably, the leisure, or pecuniary resources, of readers in general."

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How far this object has been attained, it would be impossible to shew by any extracts which the limits and nature of our publication would admit. A peculiar, useful, and highly interesting, portion of the book, is that in which, by arrangement and moderate compression," a great number of scripture predictions, and historical allusions are placed in juxtaposition, with the records of the evident completion of the one, and of the authority of profane authors for the use of the other. Thus the scripture testimony of the Messiah and his own predictions, are shewn to harmonize with facts, and synchronize with dates in the writings of persons, not to be suspected of wishing to promote their credibility.

Of clear and striking predictions from the Old Testament, concerning Jesus Christ, with parallel passages recording their fulfilment in the person of the Saviour, Mr. Macardy has selected 48, at the conclusion of which he observes

"On merely glancing over these predictions, with their exact fulfilment in the Nature, Life, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus Christ, we involuntarily exclaim.-And are the Jews really in possession of this amazing, minute, and regular chain of prophecy? To which the reply must be, without reserve, or qualification.—THEY ARE. And we dare them to disclaim, or disprove, a single assertion. With their traditions and com. ments we have nothing to do; to the text of their Sacred Books alone, we adhere.

Amazing coincidence! the most cursory perusal of these predictions, with the recorded life of our Blessed Saviour, fills the mind with wonder, admiration, and gratitude! Truly the incomprehensible God has most graciously condescended to re

veal his will to his creature mau; and to confirm his commu. nications in a most satisfactory manner! The Christian besi. tates not to summon investigation, every external evidence of his religion is conclusive and incontestible; and the inosi extensive and profound research, but renders it more clear, and indubitable.

Impostare!-great indeed must be the subtlety of that im postor; who, whilst in the womb, watches the revolutions of empires, and appears exactly in the predicted season! Imposture-wonderful indeed, must be that embrio sagacity, which, conscious of the expectation of the Jewish and Heathen world, bursts the firtal bands, and emerges in the wished for moment! Imposture!-disinterested quality, why not still behold thee meek; patient; humane: studious of the comfort of those who revile thee; operating mercifully, and miracu lously, on those who persecute thee; and from a peculiar profundity of grace, and wisdom, predicting events, yet remote, unanticipated, and improbable? Would men only undertake a rational investigation of the evidences of christianity, these absurdities need not have been noticed,-They would soon see,

In the oracles of God, however, while the knowledge of salvation is so simple and obvious, and the joy of a believer, such as a stranger intermeddleth not with ;-yet there is in the HisTORICAL, PROPHETICAL, and ARGUMENTATIVE portions, a length, and depth, and breadth, and height of meaning, in which the highest that the most subtle, wealthy, powerful impostor, could no

more adapt his own life, to the fulfilment of such a series of

predictions, than he could predispose the minds of others, to jealousy, fear, confidence, attachment, revenge, and every other feeling necessary, on their part, to effectuate such various vicissitudes, and terminate in such a peculiar catastrophe. Even could wealth, and power, influence; and with subtlety, effect any coincidence; they are in themselves so negative, and generally disqualifying, that the imposture would be im

mediately detected.

In fact, the promised Messiah must have come into the world in the very place, at the precise time, and nuder exactly

similar circumstances, as Jesus Christ, if the predictions of the

Old Testament were to be fulfilled. His nature, birth, conversation, actions, safferings, death, resurrection, appearance amongst his followers, and ascension into Heaven; His sabse quent gift of the Holy Spirit, to enlighten, embolden, and

support his disciples; with the economy of the present Gospel, as penned and received by them, are all indispensable, essential parts, of the glorious plan of Human Redemption."

The second book in Mr. Macardy's arrangement treats" of the truth of Christianity, on evidence from profane writers." These authorities are less interesting from their novelty than their intrinsic value. The celebrated letter from Pliny to Trajan, and the Emperor's no less celebrated rescript, with other testimonies, tend to shew that the Christians of those times were

not bad subjects of the state, and that some of the measures against them were taken less from a conviction of their necessity, than from a desire to satisfy the people. Trajan, after commending the manner in which Pliny had proeeeded against the Christians, says, "These people are not to be sought for: but if they be accused, and convicted, they are to be punished, but with this caution, that he who denies himself to be a Christian, and makes it plain that he is not so by supplicating our gods, although he had been so formerly, may be allowed pardon upon his repentance. As for libels sent irithout an author, they ought to have no place in any accusation whatever, for that would be a thing of very ill example, and not agreeable to my reign." To a similar purport writes Adrian, only with more express reference to malicious informers." If then any one shall accuse, and make out any thing contrary to the laws, do you determine according to the nature of the crime: but, by Hercules, if the charge be only a calumny, do you take care to punish the author of it with the severity it deserves." Indeed, Adrian as well as Severus, both designed, according to historians, to have built a temple for Christ, and to have received him among the gods.

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fatuated Jews-in whom, I behold a people wholly abandoned to themselves-to their own perverse, inflexible passions. The divine radiance that occasionally gleams across the human mind is withheld, and they wander as sheep without a shepherd-as creatures uninfluenced by the Creator."

With the good disposition manifested towards the heathen, we cordially agree; while we think the Jews deserve the pity and sympathy, as well as the animadversions of Christians: and it is well known to be an unsettled point between good men, whether the Jews shall be first converted, and become the evangelizers of the world, or whether they will be left without, until the fulness of the salvation of the Gentiles has taken place. The operations of the societyfor promoting the conversion of the Jews, with which the venerable Mr. Simeon is connected, have been the subject of much ill-judged banter; but this, it will be perceived, has been from those quarters, where almost any thing that is evangelical is similarly treated.

Hunt's noble dramatic poem, which is founded on the chief incidents in the Emperor's life. The fourth book is devoted to "A scripture view of the Godhead;" in which that tremendously important subject is treated, in what the author deems "the only safe and reasonable manner;" that is, by adducing the parallel tests of scripture on the point, in connection; and thereby exhibiting the literal evidence of the holy word. All consecutive reasoning is abandoned, and the argument is left to its own weight on the mind of the sincere inquirer; and it is the author's opinion, that, from the divine records carefully and judiciously compared, the DIVINITY OF CHRIST, will be found an essential doctrine,-an integral part of Divine Revelation." So we think; and we would recommend to any person whose mind may be wavering on this subject, a careful and serious examination of Mr. Macardy's statement. While, however, we are well aware how much From the foregoing notice, and extracts, from damning ingenuity, the contemptible a work, the very nature of which precludes our pride, and the invincible prejudice" of creed-selection of those parts which are the most inmakers have tended to bring into disrepute, this teresting, we are persuaded that many persons as well as some other doctrines; nevertheless, will be induced for themselves to peruse a book, while we would deprecate every attempt of im- which we can most cordially recommend. There posing as infallible, dogmas and figments of hu- is an anecdotal attraction in the arrangement of man opinion, as comprehending that which is the matter, which will secure a perusal of the essentially incomprehensible, yet we do think it whole by almost any reader of ordinary reliis highly expedient such a consistency in words, gious inquisitiveness. should be given to the doctrines held and professed in every religious community, that not A perfect recollection of Mr. Macardy's sentiments on only the members themselves may have distinct this point enables us to refer to that part of the 'View' which embraces it; on treating of the objection, That the diffusion notions of their own belief, but that others also, of the Gospel is comparatively limited,' He says:- What to whom the fact is material, may be assured of are a few centuries compared with the duration of the universe? -A few generations, with doctrines, the duration of which is their orthodoxy. The Quakers, it is well known, to co-extend with the globe itself? The Supreme Governor have generally been inimical to human exposi- deals not rigorously with the unenlightened he will not exact tions of tenets commonly held by Christians-unjustly. The evidence of Christianity strengthens daily, and becomes more evident-more universal. When it shall please especially the Athanasian definition of the Tri-him, he will call new missionaries into action, those who are nity; in consequence of this, the Unitarians now dispersed throughout all nations, and amongst all people. have tacitly considered them as merging in their omnipotence-he will dispel their infatuation-send them forth opinions. Their professed dependance upon the influences of the Holy Spirit was proof enough to the contrary. We are glad, however, to see that an intelligent member of this highly respectable community has recently exculpated them from the above implication, by a satisfactory avowal of the opinion of Friends, that they hold, in common with other Christians, the great doctrine of the atonement.

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A brief and satisfactory abstract of the objec- In reference to the above important doctrine, tions of Celsus and Porphyry, the former an it is justly observed by Mr. Macardy, that the Epicurean, and the latter a Pythagorean philo- Arian heresy, which raged among the Eastern sopher, will be found interesting and instructive, Christians, finally merged in the Mahometan especially to those persons who may not have imposture and we know that Jews and Mosaccess to more ample extracts from these lems are held by Socinians as holding doctrines writers. They exhibit in their objections, all less repugnant to the truth, than the polytheisthe flippant quibbles, as well as all the bitter- tical and idolatrous heathens; hence they argue, ness of the enemies of the cross of Christ in that whenever the outcasts of Israel and the folour own times. They often, indeed, display a lowers of the Meccan Prophet, shall be conknowledge of the Scriptures, to which the shal-verted, it is much more likely to be to Unitalow antichristian jesters among us, have often very slight pretensions. It appears, as our author justly observes,

"That the Old and New Testament scriptures were as critically scrutinized by Porphyry, as by Celsus: And that both exercised their entire learning and ingenuity to bring them into contempt. Both were philosophers of great reputation with the heathen world, and possessed all the advantages to be derived from a life devoted to philosophic subtlety, and historical research. But, how far have they succeeded? No doubt their talents and arguments appeared formidable in their day, to many; but, when compared with the animating truths, and substantial virtues of the Gospel, they dwindle into obscurity, and perish in early oblivion.'

Some account of the celebrated Julian, usu

ally denominated "the apostate," follows, which, interesting as it is, we must pass over. This personage has recently become an object of interest with the poetical public, in consequence of the publication of Sir Aubrey de vere

rianism, than to the faith of Trinitarians. Even if this supposition was unquestionable, it would by no means follow that they had become Christians :

"I have abandoned the nsual track," says our author in his Introduction," and designedly treated the Jews with appropriate animadversion. I readily grant that the present generation cannot be called the murderers of the human nature of the Messiah; but, behold their general spirit-their obstinacy their averseness to inquiry-their determination to retain the badge of ignorauce and perfidy, that has so long adhered to them! If we must sympathize, let us extend our charity to the unenlightened Heathen-to those who are in Nature's darkness-who most auxionsly look for a Divine Revelation-who are contending for intelligence with invincible difficulties-who have never despised their supreme benefactor; nor proved themselves the most interested, obstinate, inhuman of men! I shall never advocate persecution; it is revolting to all the feelings of my soul: but, I would expose the obstinately malevolent to general execration; and, should they still persist in offensive practices, I would consign them to posterity with an indelible brand of merited infamy. This remark I

apply more to the pestiferous infidels of the day, than to the in

H.

He will convince the Sanls, that it is hard to contend against to declare their own obstinacy and guil-to expound and illusthe diffusion of evangelical truth, righteousness, and concord,

trate their own prophetic records-and to manifest a zeal for equal to that of their illustrious kinsinan-equal to their present stupidity and perverseness! What idolatry--what imposture, shall be able to withstand so formidable an attack? Or what part of the habitable earth can escape the multifarions movement? This is undoubtedly their destiny; and white they seem

to pursue the devious wanderings of their own disordered fancy,

and to prove an astonishment, a proverb, and a by-word, among all nations,' (1 Deut. xxviii. 37) they are placing themselves as lights to illuminate, and evangelize all the descendants of Adam!"-Book v. ch. ii. sec. vi.-ED.

WRITTEN ON HEARING OF THE DEATH OF CANOVA, THE SCULPTOR.

Canova is dead!-and the hand that hath wrought
Such Promethean wonders is nerveless and cold:
And the mind once so pregnant with beautiful thought,
No more shall those visions of beauty unfold.
His eye and his hand were creation to forms,
Which, developed iu marble, shall bear Lis proud name,
Through the conflicts of empires, o'er anarchy's storms,
To the records of art in the Temple of Fame.
For tasteless, ungifted, cold, dumb, and alone,

His heart, who con gaze without feeling's wild strife
On figures, smote, as by enchantment, from stone,
Into all bat the warmth and the motion of life.
And what, though the captions would wither the bloom
Of his fair reputation with slanderous breath,
Yet the pilgrims of genins shall honour his tomb,
And rescue his name from oblivion and death.
Had he lived in an age when the Roman was free,
Ere the tyrant or priest placed their feet on his neck;
Ere a race, sprung like fungi from Liberty's tree,
Saw their history a dream, and their grandeur a wreck ;-
Then haply with names blazon'd high had he soar'd,
For whom its green chaplets Antiquity twined;
Whose temples and friezes have more been adored
Than e'en the divinities which they enshrined.
But the past so enchanting, how vague is the theme!
As the sculpture, when broke, is a fashionless block;
And the suture, howe'er a Colossus we deem,
Is a statue of time in eternity's rock.
Canova is dead! and let Italy sigh

O'er the artist-the last of her high-boasted names; "Canova is dead ?--No, he never shall die!" Each work of his chisel in triumph exclaims.

36

THE ROMAUNT OF LLEWELLYN; (Continued.)

CANTO I.-PART IV.
LXIX.

And THOU, whose bright dark eye perchance may see,
Perchance may read, this lay of tender pine ;—
Oh, my sweet friend!-howbe disdainfullye
That word thou hear, yet am I friend of thine!
Thyself did yield that name, dear ladye mine;—
And we were friends!—And, spite of all that's past,
Friends are we still,-and shall be to the fine
Of this poor life;—though many a bitter blast,
May blow on thee or me, and many a cloud o'ercast
LXX.

The sunshine of our days.-Yet, come whate'er
Fortune may please, or providence, to send ;-
Blow, on my life's frail bark, or foul or fair,-
Nathless, I shall be to the last thy friend!
And many a soul-breathed prayer to heaven I send
That thou mayst never know sneh agonies,-
Mayst never feel such griefs, as oft-time rend
Mine heart, and sink my soul,—giving sad sighs
To my perturbed breast, and hot tears to mine eyes.
LXXI.

Forgive me, my sweet friend, I do beseech thee,
For that, unweeting, I have caused thee pain;-
Suffice it, that my present pangs shall teach me
The awe which trembles lest I wound again!
Never to err, no mortal may attain ;-
But, to forgive is aye an angels part
Then may I seek forgivnness not in vain ;
An erring mortal I while thou still art
No less than angel in thy kind, forgiving heart!
LXXII.

And if, as it may be, thine eyes peruse
This page tear blotted, at such hour of night
As reigneth now, then mayst thou not refuse
The tribute of a sighe to what I write :-
Yea, teares may flow, ne flow without delight!
Sighes sweetly breathed from breast so fair and pure!
Teares silently ydropt from een so bright!-
Ah me,-how well appaid all I endure!

That blessed balm could well each festering heart-
wound cure!

LXXIII.

They tell me, that the hand of maladie

Hath somewhat blanch'd thy cheek,-the ruby ta'en
Some deal from thy sweet lip,-and given thine ee
A softer fire!-Ali, soon may every pain
Depart, and health and peace return again
To soul and eye, and lip, and cheek, and brow!
For, I did weep to think upon the wane

Of health in thee, heart's mistress mine ;- and now
The thought agen doth bid most bitter tears to flow!
LXXIV.

And yet, if thou should die,—and hope with thee,—
Nay, saw I thee in shroud and oaken chest,-
No idle teare should tremble in mine ee,-
By no vain sighes were agonie confest!
For poor I deem the woe, that is exprest
By sighes and teares!—the heart that deeply feels,-
In the which despair her derne abode hath drest,—
Will burst or e'er one groan, one tear reveals
The saered. silent, searing sorrow it conceals!
LXXV.

Nor now would I profane thy much-loved name,
Ne idly breathe it to the mocker's ear ;-
For, though thou reckless be, or much me blame,
The world at least, I trow, shall never fleer.-
Thy baughte disdain,—but not the unfeeling sneer
Of weetless wights,-I bear as best I may!
For well,-too well,-I wote of jest and jeer,-.
The taunt of insolence,-and, worse than they,
Falsehood, which can itself like sympathye array ?
LXXVI.

For, 'tis of olden time the worldlings' way,
To mark the eye that speaks the inward gloom,-
Even as the tigress couches for her prey;-
And, when they deem they have an abject, whom
They safely may o'erbear,-even such they doom
To scorn and scoffs of most injurious kind ;-
And many a gentle wight hath ample room
To rue that e'er the feeling of his mind
Pierced the concealing screen it should have kept behind.

LXXVII.

Low in my bosom, then, for ever dwell
The tender, deep-hid secret of mine heart;—
(Nor ever leave its sad and silent cell,)--
How much I loved, and how unkind thou wert!
For little would it boot me to impart
How thou didst change, unmindful of thy vow ;—
And if, in pride's despite, there sometimes start
A solitary teare,—or, on my brow,
Some while sit anguish brooding,—or the hectic glow,
LXXVIII.

For one brief moment, on my cheek ;-yet soon
The ruffled brow I smoothen, aud I check
The tear, and then 'tis past!-As o'er the moon
Fleet the swift clouds, nor leave behind a speck ;
Even so, at such a time, athwart my cheek
Flit the dark shadows of the thoughts below,
And hastily are gone!-And then I deck
My face in feigned smiles, and show as though
This heart a stranger were to long, life-wearing woe!
LXXIX.

Yet, when departed is the heartless crowd,-
Then, for feign'd joy doth real wee atone;—
Then come convulsive throbs, and singults loud,
The gush of anguish, misery's mutter'd moan,
The tear unseen, the sigh unheard, the groau
That bursts in secret from long-pent-up grief,
Which waited but the moment when alone,
To break its barrier for a season brief,
Lest the full heart should brast for lack of this relief.
LXXX.

EMELIE ;-there is torture in the name!
EMELIE;-there is madness in the thought!
Madness and love are feelings much the same,
When hopeless passion hath the brain o'erwrought,
And the soul to waste and desolation brought
By over-musing ;-even as life and light
Were wellnigh quench'd for aye, and nothing mote
Agen avail the sorrow-stricken sprite,-
But all were sunken now in ever-during night!
LXXXI.

Yes;-I have mused on thee until I brought
Madness wellnigh to the o'erlabour'd brain ;—
And when I would untwist the thread of thought.
And throw away what was of thee,-'twas vain!
So closely twined in every varied skein,-
So with each chain of feeling linkt thou art,—
That, long as life and thought to me remain,
Or one fond wish inhabits in this heart,-
Of them for evermore thy memory shall be part!
LXXXII.

What, though thou art now but as a once-dreamt dream!
A vanish'd vision! a lost angel-form!—
Still to fond fancy's eye thy glories gleam
Upon me, even as when they first did warm
My breast with purest passion, and alarm
My soul with hopes and fears till then unknown!
For, though I erst had sigh'd at beauty's charm,
And somewhat own'd its power,-I've bow'd to none,
Save her, whose thrall I am, till life and all are gone!
LXXXIII.

When first we met, enraptured beyond measure,
Deeply enamour'd, hoping, fearing, sighing,—
The thought of thee was as a secret treasure,
Deep-hid within my breast! Now hope's a-dying,-
Athwart my heaven of joy dark clouds are flying,-
And all around the gathering tempest lowers ;-
To distant thunders mutter'd groans replying,
A horrible discord wild anguish pours,--
And grief unspeakable this hopeless heart devours.
LXXXIV.

For there hath been a struggle, a wild war
The pride of man and deep-fixt love between!
'Tis hard to say, or e'er we've tried, how far
The haughtiest heart will bear from scornful een!
Yet do I hate thee not;-though I have been
The victim of thy fleeting smiles, and known
What 'twas to bask in love's delightful sheene,—
Then far away, like some base thing, be thrown,
As if I ne'er had call'd one smile of thine mine own!
LXXXV.

Enough!-It was a dream, and it is gone!
And though, what time thou didst my suit repel,
Some deal too harshly thou hast dealt with one,
Whose only crime hath been, he loved too well,—

Still must I on the dear delusion dwell,-
Still hold thy loved idea to my soul!-
There shall it lie, the inmate of a cell

Deep, dark, and silent!-It shall be the sole
Delight I have in life, while years on years shall roll
LXXXVI.

And now, haught empress of my mind, awhile
I bid farewell!-It may be that we meet
In peace as erst; and thou agen mayst smile
In kindness,- bidding this poor heart to beat
In dolour deep no more.-And, well I weet,
Hope is the staff that I must walk withal!
Take life sooner than take what makes life sweet;
Here is a heart that death mote ne'er appal,
So be I die thy liege, and own accepted thrall!

THE WEARIED BACHELOR.

Sitting a few evenings since, with my feet cased in a pair of woollen slippers, and rested on a polished fender, whilst my arms were extended over those of an easy chair, to take in as much warmth as possible from the blazing fire, I was aroused froin a deep rumination by the friendly salute of "good night," as my antique housekeeper retired, at her usual early hour; which, with a like return from her fellow-servant, threw me into a very different train of thought to what occupied me a few moments before. And who would be a bachelor? exclaimed I to myself, to sit the lonely nights away moping like a pelican of the wilderness, without a fellow-mortal to join in the social comforts of life!-But, such being my lot, I wished to be resigned; yet, the more I endeavoured to console and to reason myself into reason, I only grew the more intemperate and out of humour. In vain I tried to allay my rising passion in the new novel "The Entail; " not even the ludicrous description of the Lairds first visit to Guzy Hipel, at the Plealands, moved a muscle of my face; but as I waded further in the volume, I grew still more peevish, and at last threw down the book just as the clock struck nine.

At that moment the door opened, and Jenny brought in the tray, hid by the folds of a snowwhite napkin, upon which was laid a dish of oysters prepared for my supper. Such punctuality and cleanliness, would, at any other time, have made me exclaim in favour of a single life; but, now my regret was, that I had no partner to share the grateful meal, or press another fish upon me!

Whilst commencing my repast, with but a slender appetite, my friend Goodwill was announced" He had taken the liberty of calling," as he said, "at that unseasonable hour, to inform me of the marriage of an intimate acquaintance."-Could any thing have been more unfortunate! At the exact moment I had so composed myself as to begin supper, to be thus thrown, as it were, on the very shoal from which I so narrowly escaped!

Plainly seeing the vexation his news occasioned, he unmercifully rallied me on my dreary, uncomfortable lot." Jenny having brought an additional plate, knife, and fork, for Goodwill, with as much alacrity as if he had been originally expected, and being in no humour to take a joke, or retort upon my friend, I went on with my meal as sullenly as the most determined solitaire.

By degrees our conversation improved; and anecdote followed anecdote,* to the amusement

*The following anecdote of the late G. Cooke, was related amongst others; and which, if true, reflects much credit upon the hero of "the sock and buskin,"

of both; many were certainly of the Saturnine order, and not a few bordered something on Munchausen's marvellous. Nevertheless, with the assistance of a little aqua vita, the tediun of the evening was happily beguiled.

Thus a few hours were rescued from painful cogitation; but, my friend had no sooner departed than the gloom and pangs of bachelorship again oppressed and distracted my soul After a momentary pause, I involuntarily exclaimed,—I must and shall marry! Matrimonial scenes are represented to my mind's eye in such delightful perspective!-so sweet-so sociable so fascinating! Why should I procrastinate? Why defer the realization of that tranquillity and enjoyment which invariably arise from cultivated minds in hymenean association? Nay, my affections are already fixed; the subject already introduced; importunity alone necessary! I believe Selina loves me; the embarrassment perceptible in her indifference expresses much; I'll address her,-declare the intensity of my passion,-and have my proposal accepted, or obtain a decision, and select else

where !

MY DEAR SELINA,

How cruel your indifference; how distracting your procrastination. To Maids and Bachelors the days of youth are fleeting; the prime of life dangerous; and lonely old age dreadful!

DINNER ENGAGEMENTS.

I have at this moment (Jan. 27, 1823) three dinner engagements for next week, and one for the week after; all fairly engraved, with the blanks filled up, (in the office phrase) arranged on my library mantlepiece, and staring me in the face for one half of the day. The frequent sight of them has begotten very odd, and (what will appear very ungrateful) even cynical reflections; which, however, being of a mixed nature, may amuse during this season of festivity:when dinner invitations are flying about on all sides, like the snow which has lately feathered the earth with white.

Sincerely speaking, then, I hardly ever accept of a dinner invitation, especially if it be on a partly-engraved card, without some little dash of capriciousness in my feelings-and I will tell you why.-In the first place, I know it will be a formal affair: in the second place, I know it will be an expensive affair; and in the third place, I am almost as certain that it will be a comfortless affair. However, to set aside hypothesis and speak of facts. The day arrives. dress

Pray call a coach, and let a coach be called.

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fortunately, GRACE is said. Every cover is
contemplated with the greedy eye of hope; for
I find that there is just about the same stimulus
in the first coup d'œil of a dinner, as there is in
the taking up of a hand at whist. We hope, in
the former, to see plenty of ragouts, stews, and
well-tickled-up dishes-in the latter, plenty of
trumps, and leading kings and queens.
ever, the servants deploy-the covers are re-
moved-and the prospectstands confessed.'
But scarcely an ejaculation, a compliment, an
encouragement to do justice to the liberality of
your host, ensues-as,

How

Que ça est bon, ah, goûtez ça! No: nothing of the kind. The mulligitawney soup smokes-the fish breaks in flakes:—they begin to challenge. To challenge!-good heavens, what sort of challenging is this!-What eye sparkles-what bosom burns-what weapon is drawn! In other words, there is a whisper here, and a nod there, and an elevated arm in a third place, as indications of a wish to drink wine with a lady. The dame consents. The challenge is accepted. What frigidity, formalIity, and folly :-and, then, the little wine that covers the bottom of the lady's glass, is to furnish the means of acceptance of all challenges, through a succession of attacks. You may fight in-law with such a simple weapon. a father, son, uncle, nephew, cousin, and sonBut the goes on-and, at last, goes off. A soft, or a gruff voice just lets us know that ten words

dinner

arrive at the porch of mine host precisely one half hour after the time specified-which proves my thorough good breeding.—I mount, am announced, bend both head and body* in my saluNo, this will never do!-prose is dull, cloy- tations to the host and hostess; sit down, say have been said for grace: and now, you would ing, does not at all convey the tender passion- not a word-all being silent-look at the fire, think the parties would begin to unbend; to love! The muse is sprightly, prepossessing, unfurl my cambric banner, (alias, handkerchief) show how the pheasants, and partridges, and unfettered; O for a Castalian draught, to assail make a gentle nasal sound in consequence, remy wily fair one with parnassian energy! turn the said handkerchief into my pocket, look round, now at the portrait of the mistress of the house over the fire place, and again at the fire-balance my legs in a pretty crossed attinent, the surface of convivial gaiety is frozen. tude, and cover my knees or lap with my hat. Another half hour moves slowly on'-in spite of sundry knocks and sundry arrivals-and at length DINNER IS ANNOUNCED.

O be kind-my charming fair!—
Tease me not with vain pretence;
Try and prove my plighted care,
Love how pure, and how intense!
Love and truth like mine will stand,
Ev'ry test that you command.
Sweet, how sweet, it is to prove
Kindred happy!-Friends sincere!
Still more sweet is hallow'd love,
Verging to the silv'ry hair;
Midst a group affection true-
Offspring of the waning two!
Mark the weak, old, fearful maid!-
See the bach'lor grey with crime!—
Lonely and unwept they fade,-

Blotted from the scroll of time!-
Strangers hir'd their limbs to turn;
None the dirge of death to mourn!
Come then come, Selina fair!-

Tease no more with vain pretence;
Trust and prove my plighted care,-
Love how lasting, pure, intense!
Let us at the altar meet,

And our earthly bliss complete!
(To be continued.)

and deserves narrating were it only merely to shew that, amidst all his follies, extravagances, and imperfections, the sparks of generosity were occasionally kindled in his bosom :

When he was in Liverpool some years since, and had to perform the character of Richard, he was no

where to be found the hour arrived for the curtain to

rise, but no Cooke made his appearance, to the great dismay of the inanagers, who in vain sent scouts in every direction to obtain some tidings of this erratic being. Fortune, however, led one of the actors, on

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woodcocks, and teal, had contributed to set their good humor afloat. But no: it is all rigid frost and ice, like the Serpentine at this mo

And then, what-in my opinion-greatly conthe cloth on the table. Why, Sir, you fancy tributed to these icy sensations, is, the keeping yourself at a repast on the summit of the Shreckis before you; and the eyes of the mistress are herhorn, or Wetterhorn. An expanse of snow kept sedulously fixed on it, lest some unhallowed drop of port or claret should sully its virgin tation. Give us again, Mr. Editor, the brown, purity. Away with all this silly and sickly affecglossy, warm, harmonizing tint of the wellrubbed mahogany table. Let us have no frigid and formal covering of a table-cloth, after the half of the quizzical formality in parties to the viands have taken their departure. I attribute

What a sound to the gourmand and epicure To me, alas, a sound of no particular gratification!--for I see clearly what is to follow. The mistress approaches me be pleased to hand down Mrs. I obey: what a melancholy procession! We move slowly down stairs, as hush' as if it were a soldier's funeral. And here, Mr. Editor, I shall take leave to mention a very glaring and a very general error, which prevails, I think, on most occasions, but which, I submit, should be corrected forthwith. It is retention of that damask sur-tout. Neither host this that the master of the house leads the way nor hostess is aware of the unbecoming backby taking the lady of the most consequence under his arm; and, on reaching the dinner ground to the dessert which the cloth affords. room, instead of seating her by himself, either Did Van Huysum, or De Heem, ever paint on the right or left, bids her walk up to the top their fruits on a white background? I trow, not. And now comes one of the most grievous parts of the table. In consequense, the whole arof my tale one of the most melancholy portions rangement is marred. It is like clubbing a regi- of my meditations. Just, peradventure, as the ment. Instead of attending, like a faithful knight, the damosell entrusted to your care, wine, just as a fair neighbour vouchsafes to sever conversation is beginning to circulate with the you are obliged to take up a different position. her lips, and put her life into her eyes, by The mistress of the house graciously calls you kindred discourse, the mistress addresses her towards her-and you come, in consequence, in contact with the lady first led down. Now this female guests with 'would you like another is confounding the principles of all social order: glass of wine (knowing she would not, and wishof all faithful attachments; and incipient whis-ing her not to take it) or a slice of cake? And then on receiving the negative on all sides-she bends forwards, the chair recedes, she rises-and with her the female guests-and, away they go, to play the game of mum chance, in a desolate drawing room, till the gentlemen' come up.'

onset.

his way to the theatre, through White-Chapel, where,
to his astonishment, he perceived the hero in a pawn-
broker's shop! The manager, on receiving this in-pers, just bordering as it were, on sonorous
formation, immediately repaired to the spot, and found declarations, are hence suppressed at the very
Cooke lying on one of the shelves ticketted, nor would
he stir until the sum for which he had pledged himself However, we are all about to be seated-and,
was discharged! He afterwards told, that, being on
his road to the theatre, at the time a distress was
levying upon a poor tenant whose appearance affected
him, he took the bailiffs with him to a pawnbroker,
and actually pawned himself for twenty pounds, the
amount of the debt!

⚫ Note especial. The pink of fashion, in a bow, or salutation, is only a nod➡a sudden drop or bob of the head-as if, in the case of children's toys, it were occasioned by pulling a secret wire. It is literally, now,

'All nodding, nid, 'nid, nodding,' &c.

:

+ I cannot but observe, and lament in observing, the too general omission of this decent and imperative ceremony. But, more especially, when said, should it be attended to. Not even its general brevity can always secure it from the indecent interruption of some magpie chatterer.

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