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his reputation stealing its way in a kind of subterraneous current through fear and silence. I cannot but conceive him calm and confident, little disappointed, not at all dejected, relying on his own merit with steady consciousness, and waiting, without impatience, the vicissitudes of opinion, and the impartiality of a future generation.-JOHNSON. After line 62, in the MS.

O'er place and time we triumph; on we go,
Kanging at will the realms above, below;
Yet, ah, how little of ourselves we know !
And why the heart beats on, or how the brain
Says to the foot, "Now move, now rest again."
From age to age we search and search in vain.

Page 11, col. 1, line 65.

Behold him now unbar the prison-door,

An allusion to John Howard. "Wherever he came, in whatever country, the prisons and hospitals were thrown open to him as to the general Censor. Such is the force of pure and exalted virtue!"

Page 11, col. 2, line 5.

Long with his friend in generous enmity, Aristotle's definition of Friendship, "one soul in two bodies," is well exemplified by some ancient Author in a dialogue between Ajax and Achilles. "Of all the wounds you ever received in battle," says Ajax, "which was the most painful to you?" "That which I received from Hector," replies Achilles."But Hector never gave you a wound?""Yes, and a mortal one; when he slew my friend, Patroclus."

Page 11, col. 2, line 7.

Do what he will, &c.

These ideas, whence are they derived; or as Plato would have expressed himself, where were they acquired? There could not be a better argument for his doctrine of a preexistent state.

L'homme ne sait à quel rang se mettre. Il est visiblement égaré et sent en lui des restes d'un état heureux, dont il est déchu, et qu'il ne peut retrouver. Il le cherche partout avec inquiétude et sans succès dans des ténèbres impénétrables. -Sa misère se conclut de sa grandeur, et sa grandeur se conclut de sa misère.--PASCAL.

Page 11, col. 2, line 23.

But soon 'tis past

This light, which is so heavenly in its lustre, and which is everywhere and on everything when we look round us on our arrival here; which, while it lasts, never leaves us, rejoicing us by night as well as by day, and lighting up our very dreams; yet when it fades, fades so fast, and, when it goes, goes out for ever,-we may address it in the words of the Poet, words which we might apply so often in this transitory life:

Too soon your value from your loss we learn!
Epistles in Verse, ii.

Page 11, col. 2, line 25.

like the stone

That sheds awhile a lustre all its own,

See" Observations on a diamond that shines in the dark." -BOYLE'S WORKS, I. 789.

Page 11, col. 2, line 40.

Schooled and trained up to Wisdom from his birth; Cicero, in his Essay De Senectute, has drawn his images from the better walks of life; and Shakspeare, in his Seven Ages, has done so too. But Shakspeare treats his subject satirically; Cicero as a Philosopher. In the venerable portrait of Cato we discover no traces of "the lean and slippered Pantaloon."

Every object has a bright and a dark side; and I have endeavoured to look at things as Cicero has done. By some, however, I may be thought to have followed too much my own dream of happiness; and in such a dream indeed I have often passed a solitary hour. It was Castle-building once; now it is no longer so. But whoever would try to realise it, would not perhaps repent of his endeavour.

Page 11, col. 2, line 42.

The day arrives, the moment wished and feared; A Persian Poet has left us a beautiful thought on this subject, which the reader, if he has not met with it, will be glad to know, and, if he has, to remember.

Thee on thy Mother's knees, a new-born child,
In tears we saw when all around thee smiled.
So live, that, sinking in thy last long sleep,
Smiles may be thine, when all around thee weep.

For my version I am in a great measure indebted to Sir William Jones.

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Page 12, col. 1, line 25.

'Suffer these litle ones to come to me!"

In our early Youth, while yet we live only among those we love, we love without restraint, and our hearts overflow in every look, word, and action. But when we enter the world and are repulsed by strangers, forgotten by friends, we grow more and more timid in our approaches even to those we love best.

How delightful to us then are the little caresses of children! All sincerity, all affection, they fly into our arms; and then, and then only, do we feel our first confidence, our first pleasure.

Page 12, col. 1, line 27. he reveres

The brow engraven with the Thoughts of Years; This is a law of Nature. Age was anciently synonymous with power; and we may always observe that the old are held in more or less honour as men are more or less virtuous. "Shame," says Homer, "bids the youth beware how he accosts the man of many years." "Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honour the face of an old man." Leviticus.

Among us, and wherever birth and possessions give rank and authority, the young and the profligate are seen continually above the old and the worthy: there Age can never find its due respect. But among many of the ancient nations it was otherwise; and they reaped the benefit of it. Rien ne maintient plus les mœurs, qu'une extrême subordination des jeunes gens envers les vieillards. Les uns et les autres seront contenus, ceux-là par le respect qu'ils auront pour les vieillards, et ceux-ci par le respect qu'ils auront pour eux-mêmes.-MONTESQUIEU.

Page 12, col. 1, line 39.

Like Her most gentle, most unfortunate, Before I went into Germany, I came to Brodegate in Leicestershire, to take my leave of that noble Lady Jane Grey, to whom I was exceeding much beholding. Her parents, the Duke and Duchess, with all the Household, Gentlemen and Gentlewomen, were hunting in the park. I found her in her chamber, reading Phædo Platonis in Greek, and that with as much delight as some gentlemen would read a merry tale in Boccace. After salutation, and duty done, with some other talk, I asked her, why she would lose such pastime in the park? Smiling, she answered "I wist, all their sport in the park is but a shadow to that pleasure which I find in Plato."-ROGER ASCHAM.

me;

C

Page 12, col. 1, line 44.

Then is the Age of Admiration

Dante in his old age was pointed out to Petrarch when a boy; and Dryden to Pope.

Who does not wish that Dante and Dryden could have known the value of the homage that was paid them, and foreseen the greatness of their young admirers?

Page 12, col. 1, line 67.

Scenes such as MILTON sought, but sought in vain : He had arrived at Naples, and was preparing to visit Sicily and Greece, when, hearing of the troubles in England, he thought it proper to hasten home.

Page 12, col. 1, line 68.

And MILTON's self,

I began thus far to assent. . . to an inward prompting which now grew daily upon me, that by labour and intent study, (which I take to be my portion in this life) joined with the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave something so written to aftertimes, as they should not willingly let it die.-MILTON.

Page 12, col. 2, line 46.

'twas at matin-time

Love and devotion are said to be nearly allied. Boccaccio fell in love at Naples in the church of St. Lorenzo; as Petrarch had done at Avignon in the church of St. Clair.

Page 13, col. 1, line 2.

Lovely before, oh, say how lovely now!

Is it not true, that the young not only appear to be, but really are, most beautiful in the presence of those they love? It calls forth all their beauty.

Page 13, col. 1, lines 46, 47.

And feeling hearts-touch them but rightly-pour
A thousand melodies unheard before!

Xenophon has left us a delightful instance of conjugal affection.

The King of Armenia not fulfilling his promise, Cyrus entered the country, and, having taken him and all his family prisoners, ordered them instantly before him. Armenian, said he, you are free; for you are now sensible of your error. And what will you give me, if I restore your wife to you?-All that I am able.-What, if I restore your children?-All that I am able.-And you, Tigranes, said he, turning to the Son, What would you do, to save your wife from servitude? Now Tigranes was but lately married, and had a great love for his wife. Cyrus, he replied, to save her from servitude, I would willingly lay down my life.

Let each have his own again, said Cyrus; and when he was departed, one spoke of his clemency; and another of his valour; and another of his beauty and the graces of his person. Upon which Tigranes asked his wife, if she thought him handsome. Really, said she, I did not look at him.-At whom then did you look?-At him who said he would lay down his life for me.-Cyropædia, L. III.

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hour of his distress. Sir John Moore, when he fell from his horse in the battle of Corunna, faltered out with his dying breath some message to his mother; and who can forget the last words of Conradin, when, in his fifteenth year, he was led forth to die at Naples, "O my mother! how great will be your grief, when you hear of it!"

Page 13, col. 2, line 69. 'dust to dust'

How exquisite are those lines of Tasso!

Le crespe chiome d' or puro lucente, E' l lampeggiar d'ell angelico riso, Che solean far in terrà un paradiso, Poca polvere son, che nulla sente.

Page 14, col. 1, line 9.

He goes, and Night comes as it never came! These circumstances, as well as some others that follow, are happily, as far as they regard England, of an ancient date. To us the miseries inflicted by a foreign invader are now known only by description. Many generations have passed away since our country women saw the smoke of an enemy's camp.

But the same passions are always at work everywhere, and their effects are always nearly the same; though the circumstances that attend them are infinitely various.

Page 14, col. 1, lines 27, 28.

Such as the heart delights in-and records
Within how silently-

Si tout cela consistoit en faits, en actions, en paroles, on pourroit le décrire et le rendre en quelque façon : mais comment dire ce qui n'étoit ni dit, ni fait, ni pensé même, mais goûté, mais senti. Le vrai bonheur ne se décrit pas.ROUSSEAU.

Page 14, col. 1, line 67.

That House with many a funeral-garland hung

A custom in some of our country churches.

Page 14, col. 2, line 22.

Soon through the gadding vine, &c.

An English breakfast; which may well excite in others what in Rousseau continued through life, un goût vif pour les déjeûnés. C'est le tems de la journée où nous sommes le plus tranquilles, où nous causons le plus à notre aise.

The luxuries here mentioned, familiar to us as they now are, were almost unknown before the Revolution.

Page 14, col. 2, line 50.

With honest dignity,

He, who resolves to rise in the world by Politics or Religion, can degrade his mind to any degree, when he sets about it. Overcome the first scruple, and the work is done. "You hesitate," said one who spoke from experience. "Put on the mask, young man ; and in a very little while you will not know it from your own face."

Page 14, col. 2, line 52.

Like HAMPDEN struggling in his Country's cause, Zeuxis is said to have drawn his Helen from an assemblage of the most beautiful women; and many a Writer of Fiction, in forming a life to his mind, has recourse to the brightest moments in the lives of others.

I may be suspected of having done so here, and of having designed, as it were, from living models; but, by making an allusion now and then to those who have really lived, I thought I should give something of interest to the picture, as well as better illustrate my meaning.

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This very slight sketch of Civil Dissension is taken from our own annals; but, for an obvious reason, not from those of our own Age.

The persons, here immediately alluded to, lived more than a hundred years ago, in a reign which Blackstone has justly represented as wicked, sanguinary, and turbulent; but such times have always afforded the most signal instances of heroic courage and ardent affection.

Great reverses, like theirs, lay open the human heart. They occur indeed but seldom; yet all men are liable to them; all, when they occur to others, make them more or less their own; and, were we to describe our condition to an inhabitant of some other planet, could we omit what forms so striking a circumstance in human life?

Page 84, col. 2, line 60.

and alone,

A prisoner, prosecuted for high treason, may now make his defence by counsel. In the reign of William the Third the law was altered; and it was in rising to urge the necessity of an alteration, that Lord Shaftesbury, with such admirable quickness, took advantage of the embarrassment that seized him. "If I," said he, "who rise only to give my opinion of this bill, am so confounded that I cannot say what I intended, what must be the condition of that man, who, without any assistance, is pleading for his life?"

Page 14, col. 2, lines 65, 66.

Like that sweet saint who sate by RUSSELL's side
Under the judgment-seat.

Lord Russell. May I have somebody to write, to assist my memory?

Mr. Attorney General. Yes, a Servant.

Lord Chief Justice. Any of your Servants shall assist you in writing anything you please for you.

Lord Russell. My Wife is here, my Lord, to do it.STATE TRIALS, II.

Page 15, col. 1, line 6.

Thrice greeting those who most withdraw their claim, See the Alcestis of Euripides, v. 194.

Page 15, col. 1, line 10.

Lo, there the Friend,

Such as Russell found in Cavendish; and such as many have found.

Page 15, col. 1, line 16.

And, when her dear, dear Father passed along, An allusion to the last interview of Sir Thomas More and his daughter Margaret. "Dear Meg," said he, when afterwards with a coal he wrote to bid her farewell, "I never liked your manner towards me better; for I like when daughterly love and dear charity have no leisure to look to worldly courtesy."-ROPER'S Life.

Page 15, col. 1, line 29.

Her glory now, as ever her delight! Epaminondas, after his victory at Leuctra, rejoiced most of all at the pleasure which it would give his father and mother; and who would not have envied them their feelings?

Cornelia was called at Rome the Mother-in-law of Scipio. "When," said she to her sons, "shall I be called the Mother of the Gracchi?"

Page 15, col 1, line 62.

And such, his labour done, the calm He knows, At illa quanti sunt, animum tanquam emeritis stipendiis libidinis, ambitionis, contentionis, inimicitiarum, cupiditatum omnium, secum esse, secumque (ut dicitur) vivere ?-CIC. De Senectute.

Page 15, col. 2, line 3.

Watches his bees at hiving-time;

Hinc ubi jam emissum caveis ad sidera cœli Nare per æstatem liquidam suspexeris agmen, Contemplator.-VIRG.

Page 15, col. 2, line 21.

Immoveable-for ever there to freeze!

She was under all her sails, and looked less like a ship incrusted with ice than ice in the fashion of a ship.-See the Voyage of Captain Thomas James, in 1631.

Page 15, col. 2, line 41.

Lo! on his back a Son brings in his Sire,

An aet of filial piety represented on the coins of Catana, a Greek city, some remains of which are still to be seen at the foot of Mount Etna. The story is told of two brothers, who in this manner saved both their parents. The place from which they escaped, was long called the field of the pious; and public games were annually held there to commemorate the event.

Page 15, col. 2, line 45.

From harp or organ!

What a pleasing picture of domestic life is given to us by Bishop Berkeley in his letters! "The more we have of good instruments the better: for all my children, not excepting my little daughter, learn to play, and are preparing to fill my house with harmony against all events; that, if we have worse times, we may have better spirits."

Page 15, col. 2, lines 53, 54.

And with assurance sweet her soul revive In child-birth

See the Alcestis of Euripides, v. 328.

Page 15, col. 2, line 57.

Who lives not for another.

How often, says an excellent writer, do we err in our estimate of happiness! When I hear of a man who has noble parks, splendid palaces, and every luxury in life, I always inquire whom he has to love; and, if I find he has nobody or does not love those he has-in the midst of all his grandeur I pronounce him a being in deep adversity.

Page 16, col. 1, line 1.

O thou all-eloquent, whose mighty mind Cicero. It is remarkable that, among the comforts of Old Age, he has not mentioned those arising from the society of women and children. Perhaps the husband of Terentia and "the father of Marcus felt something on the subject, of which he was willing to spare himself the recollection."

Page 16, col. 2, line 14.

And stars are kindling in the firmament,

An old writer breaks off in a very lively manner at a later hour of the night. "But the Hyades run low in the heavens, and to keep our eyes open any longer were to act our Antipodes. The Huntsmen are up in America, and they are already past their first sleep in Persia."

Before I conclude, I would say something in favour of the old-fashioned triplet, which I have here ventured to use so often. Dryden seems to have delighted in it, and in many of his poems has used it much oftener than I have done, as

for instance in the Hind and Panther1, and in Theodore and Honoria, where he introduces it three, four, and even five times in succession.

If I have erred any where in the structure of my verse from a desire to follow yet earlier and higher examples, rely on the forgiveness of those in whose ear the music of our old versification is still sounding.

1 Pope used to mention this poem as the most correct specimen of Dryden's versification. It was indeed written when he had completely formed his manner, and may be

supposed to exhibit, negligence excepted, his deliberate

and ultimate scheme of metre.-JOHNSON.

2 With regard to trissyllables, as their accent is very rarely on the last, they cannot properly be any rhymes at all: yet nevertheless I highly commend those, who have judiciously and sparingly introduced them, as such.-GRAY.

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EVERY reader turns with pleasure to those passages of Horace, and Pope, and Boileau, which describe how they lived and where they dwelt ; and which, being interspersed among their satirical writings, derive a secret and irresistible grace from the contrast, and are admirable examples of what in Painting is termed repose.

We have admittance to Horace at all hours. We enjoy the company and conversation at his table; and his suppers, like Plato's, "non solum in præsentia, sed etiam postero die jucundæ sunt." But, when we look round as we sit there, we find ourselves in a Sabine farm, and not in a Roman villa. His windows have every charm of prospect; but his furniture might have descended from Cincinnatus; and gems, and pictures, and old marbles, are mentioned by him more than once with a seeming indifference.

His English Imitator thought and felt, perhaps, more correctly on the subject; and embellished his garden and grotto with great industry and success. But to these alone he solicits our notice. On the ornaments of his house he is silent; and he appears to have reserved all the minuter touches of his pencil for the library, the chapel, and the banqueting-room of Timon. "Le savoir de notre siècle," says Rousseau, "tend beaucoup plus à détruire qu'à édifier. On censure d'un ton de maître; pour proposer, il en faut prendre un autre."

It is the design of this Epistle to illustrate the virtue of True Taste; and to show how little she requires to secure, not only the comforts, but even the elegancies of life. True Taste is an excellent Economist. She confines her choice to few objects, and delights in producing great effects by small means: while False Taste is for ever

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sighing after the new and the rare; and reminds us, in her works, of the Scholar of Apelles, who, not being able to paint his Helen beautiful, determined to make her fine.

An Invitation-The approach to a Villa described-Its Situation-Its few Apartments-Furnished with Casts from the Antique, &c.-The Dining-room-The LibraryA Cold-bath-A Winter-walk-A Summer-walk-The Invitation renewed--Conclusion.

WHEN, with a REAUMUR'S skill, thy curious mind
Has classed the insect-tribes of human-kind,
Each with its busy hum, or gilded wing,
Its subtle web-work, or its venomed sting;
Let me, to claim a few unvalued hours,
Point out the green lane rough with fern and flowers;
The sheltered gate that opens to my field,
And the white front thro' mingling elms revealed.
In vain, alas! a village-friend invites
To simple comforts, and domestic rites,
When the gay months of Carnival resume
Their annual round of glitter and perfume;
When London hails thee to its splendid mart,
Its hives of sweets, and cabinets of art;
And, lo, majestic as thy manly song,
Flows the full tide of human life along.

Still must my partial pencil love to dwell
On the home-prospects of my hermit-cell;
The mossy pales that skirt the orchard-green,
Here hid by shrub-wood, there by glimpses seen ;
And the brown path-way, that, with careless flow,
Sinks, and is lost among the trees below.
Still must it trace (the flattering tints forgive)
Each fleeting charm that bids the landscape live.
Oft o'er the mead, at pleasing distance, pass
Browsing the hedge by fits the panniered ass;
The idling shepherd-boy, with rude delight,

Whistling his dog to mark the pebble's flight;
And in her kerchief blue the cottage-maid,
With brimming pitcher from the shadowy glade.
Far to the south a mountain-vale retires,
Rich in its groves, and glens, and village-spires;
Its upland-lawns, and cliffs with foliage hung,
Its wizard-stream, nor nameless nor unsung:
And through the various year, the various day,
What scenes of glory burst, and melt away!
When April-verdure springs in Grosvenor-

square,

And the furred Beauty comes to winter there,
She bids old Nature mar the plan no more;
Yet still the seasons circle as before.
Ah, still as soon the young Aurora plays,
Tho' moons and flambeaux trail their broadest blaze;
As soon the sky-lark pours his matin-song,
Tho' Evening lingers at the masque so long.

There let her strike with momentary ray,
As tapers shine their little lives away;
There let her practise from herself to steal,
And look the happiness she does not feel;
The ready smile and bidden blush employ
At Faro-routs that dazzle to destroy;
Fan with affected ease the essenced air,
And lisp of fashions with unmeaning stare.
Be thine to meditate an humbler flight,
When morning fills the fields with rosy light;
Be thine to blend, nor thine a vulgar aim,
Repose with dignity, with Quiet fame.

Here no state-chambers in long line unfold,
Bright with broad mirrors, rough with fretted gold;
Yet modest ornament, with use combined,
Attracts the eye to exercise the mind.
Small change of scene, small space his home
Who leads a life of satisfied desires. [requires,
What tho' no marble breathes, no canvas glows,
From every point a ray of genius flows!
Be mine to bless the more mechanic skill,
That stamps, renews, and multiplies at will;
And cheaply circulates, thro' distant climes,
The fairest relics of the purest times.
Here from the mould to conscious being start
Those finer forms, the miracles of art;
Here chosen gems, imprest on sulphur, shine,
That slept for ages in a second mine;
And here the faithful graver dares to trace
A MICHAEL'S grandeur, and a RAPHAEL'S grace!
Thy gallery, Florence, gilds my humble walls;
And my low roof the Vatican recalls!

Soon as the morning-dream my pillow flies,
To waking sense what brighter visions rise!
O mark! again the coursers of the Sun,
At GUIDO's call, their round of glory run!
Again the rosy Hours resume their flight,
Obscured and lost in floods of golden light!

But could thine erring friend so long forget
(Sweet source of pensive joy and fond regret)
That here its warmest hues the pencil flings,
Lo! here the lost restores, the absent brings;
And still the Few best loved and most revered
Rise round the board their social smile endeared?
Selected shelves shall claim thy studious hours;
There shall thy ranging mind be fed on flowers !!
There, while the shaded lamp's mild lustre streams,
Read ancient books, or dream inspiring dreams;

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And, when a sage's bust arrests thee there,
Pause, and his features with his thoughts compare.
-Ah, most that Art my grateful rapture calls,
Which breathes a soul into the silent walls;2
Which gathers round the Wise of every Tongue,
All on whose words departed nations hung;
Still prompt to charm with many a converse sweet;
Guides in the world, companions in retreat!

Tho' my thatched bath no rich Mosaic knows,
A limpid spring with unfelt current flows.
Emblem of Life! which, still as we survey,
Seems motionless, yet ever glides away!
The shadowy walls record, with Attic art,
The strength and beauty which its waves impart.
Here THETIS, bending, with a mother's fears
Dips hier dear boy, whose pride restrains his tears.
There VENUS, rising, shrinks with sweet surprise,
As her fair self reflected seems to rise!

Far from the joyless glare, the maddening strife, And all the dull impertinence of life, These eyelids open to the rising ray, And close, when Nature bids, at close of day. Here, at the dawn, the kindling landscape glows; There noon-day levees call from faint repose. Here the flushed wave flings back the parting light; There glimmering lamps anticipate the night. When from his classic dreams the student steals,3 Amid the buzz of crowds, the whirl of wheels, To muse unnoticed-while around him press The meteor-forms of equipage and dress; Alone, in wonder lost, he seems to stand A very stranger in his native land! And (tho' perchance of current coin possest, And modern phrase by living lips exprest) Like those blest Youths, forgive the fabling page, Whose blameless lives deceived a twilight age, Spent in sweet slumbers; till the miner's spade Unclosed the cavern, and the morning played. Ah, what their strange surprise, their wild delight! New arts of life, new manners meet their sight! In a new world they wake, as from the dead; Yet doubt the trance dissolved, the vision fled! O come, and, rich in intellectual wealth, Blend thought with exercise, with knowledge health; Long, in this sheltered scene of lettered talk, With sober step repeat the pensive walk, Nor scorn, when graver triflings fail to please, The cheap amusements of a mind at ease; Here every care in sweet oblivion cast, And many an idle hour-not idly passed.

No tuneful echoes, ambushed at my gate, Catch the blest accents of the wise and great. Vain of its various page, no Album breathes The sigh that Friendship or the Muse bequeaths. Yet some good Genii o'er my hearth preside, Oft the far friend, with secret spell, to guide; And there I trace, when the grey evening lours, A silent chronicle of happier hours!

When Christmas revels in a world of snow, And bids her berries blush, her carols flow, His spangling shower when Frost the wizard flings; Or, borne in ether blue, on viewless wings, O'er the white pane his silvery foliage weaves, And gems with icicles the sheltering eaves;

2 Postea verò quam Tyrannio mihi libros disposuit,

mens addita videtur meis ædibus.-CIC.

3 Ingenium, sibi quod vacuas desumsit Athenas,
Et studiis annos septem dedit, insenuitque
Libris et curis, statuâ taciturnius exit

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