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Not always wields the shaft of death
The god of song, in ruthless ire,
But oft exalts his tuneful breath,

And peaceful strikes the golden lyre.
Then vaunt not in the prosp'rous hour,
Nor let stern Fate thine heart appal;
If Fortune smile, or dark'ning low'r,
The same sad earth must cover all.
Attested by Mr. Proctor.

The TRANSLATION of this Ode by Master J. W. Hawkins, Renhold Vicarage, attested by the Rev. A. J. Crespin, entitles him to the SILVer medal.

Very good TRANSLATIONS were received from Master C. Metcalf, Wisbeach,

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SIR, AND DEAR COUSIN,

It is to you alone I address myself; it is from you alone I hope to find a refuge from misfortunes, too overwhelming for woman to bear. The Almighty has taken from me all that I held most dear upon earth, my beloved husband; you well know he was all the world to me. Eight days ago, he caused me to send for our son from school; when Maurice came to his bedside, he held out his hand to him, and having with difficulty given him his blessing, expired. With him. have flown all my days of peace and happiness. I am plunged into the most desolate state that ever wife or mother felt. Yet if I had suffered alone! but my poor son weeps beside me. Alas! he knows not yet how sad a thing it is to be left without a father. It breaks my heart as he presses my hand, and looks up in my face, and pronounces his father's name, while the tears roll down his cheeks. No one but a mother can know

such agony as this. Sometimes I fancy I can read in his countenance this piteous language: "Now, my dear mother, you alone are left to take care of me." Wherever I go, he follows me, and wipes the big drop from his eyes with my robe; when I would fain console him, my own sorrow prevents me, for it is he that occasions my grief. How shall I support him? my poor husband hath left me nothing, and my hands are too feeble for labour. Of whom then must I ask for aid, if not from your benevolence? My only hopes dwell with you-surely Heaven will dispose your heart to befriend a poor unhappy widow. Prove that the ties of blood which bind us are sacred. I will entrust my son to your care; all that you do for him, you will do for me, and for the memory of a man who loved you. What vigour and fortitude the Almighty has left me, I will exert to gain my own daily bread; but I am not in a condition to bring up my son properly. It will be a cruel sight when he parts from me, but I know how to yield to the dictates of necessity. Still there is one reflection that consoles me, I trust to the grace of a merciful God, and in the goodness of a benevolent friend. Be to my poor boy in the place of a father, and so forward his prospects in life, that he may one day contribute to soften the severity of my affliction. I cannot proceed-my tears, that moisten the paper, will sufficiently explain the feelings of my heart. In your hands rest my peace of mind, and the welfare of my son. The Almighty will for ever bless you for your bounty. He will reward you even in this world, for all that you may do in behalf of your two unhappy relatives. I remain, in the deepest and most inconsolable sorrow, &c.

Attested by Mr. Proctor.

ARTICLE XVIII.

CECILIA LA FORET.

TRANSLATION from the French, by Master C. Metcalf, Wisbeach, who is requested to send for the SILVER

MEDAL.

DEAR COUSIN,

IT is to you alone that I address myself; it is from you that I hope to receive assistance in misfortunes too

distressing for a female. God has snatched from me the treasure which I esteemed most dear on earth, my worthy husband. You know that all my affections were centred in him; eight days have elapsed, since he ordered me to recal our son from college; when Maurice approached his bed, he stretched out his hand to him, and had no sooner pronounced his blessing than he expired. With him are fled my days of tranquillity and happiness. Behold me plunged into the most afflicting condition that a wife and mother can experience. Yet if I suffered alone!—but at my side my poor son continually laments his loss. He is yet ignorant to how many misfortunes a young orphan is exposed. It breaks my heart when he clasps my hands, and, looking at me with tears in his eyes, pronounces the name of his father. None but a mother can form the least idea of these afflictions. At another time, I think I read these sad words in his countenance: " Now, my mother, it is your duty alone to support me." Wherever I go, he attends me, and is continually wiping from his eyes the tears which the sight of my mourning attire causes him to shed. When I would endeavour to console him, sorrow stops my utterance; for it is he who is the chief cause of all my grief. How shall I maintain him? my poor husband has left me nothing, and my hands are too feeble to endure labour. From whom then, if not from you, shall I seek assistance? It is on you alone that my hopes rely. The Almighty doubtless will dispose your heart to give relief to a poor unfortunate widow. Show that the ties of relationship by which we are united, are sacred. I resign my son to your care; whatever you shall do for him, you will do for me also, and for the memory of a man who had a great regard for you. I will employ whatever strength and spirits God has left me, to gain my livelihood by labour; but it is not in my power to educate my son in a suitable I deliver him up entirely to you. It will be hard to part with him, but I can obey the mandates of necessity. At the same time, the thought of trusting him to the protection of an all-kind Providence, and to the goodness of a generous relation, affords me comfort. Be unto him a father, and place him in a situation, in which he may one day mitigate my misfortunes. I can

manner.

say no more; my tears, which moisten this paper, bear sufficient testimony of the feelings of my heart. In your hands are placed my repose, and the happiness of my son. God will for ever bless your generosity. He will recompense you, even in this world, for the kindness you shall have conferred on two unfortunate relations. Impressed with the most profound grief of an unfortunate widow, I am,

Attested by his Father.

CECILIA LAFORET.

ARTICLE XVIII.

TRANSLATED by Miss Agnes Docker, aged 11 years on the 21st December, 1811.

MY DEAR COUSIN,

Ir is to you only that I address myself; and it is from you that I hope to find succour from misfortunes too severe for a woman. God has taken from me all that I held most dear upon earth, my worthy husband. You know he was all to me. It is eight days since he desired me to send for our son from college; when Maurice came near his bed, he took hold of his hand, and had scarcely given him his blessing when he died. With him have for ever fled my days of happiness and repose. Behold me plunged into the most desolate state for a woman and a mother. Yet if I suffered alone!. but close by me my poor son sighs. He does not yet know how unfortunate a poor orphan is. He breaks my heart; while looking at me he presses my hands, and, shedding tears, pronounces his father's name. There is none but a mother can form an idea of these pains. I think I read in his face these sorrowful words: "Now, my dear mamma, it is you only that can support me." Wherever I go he is always with me, and he wipes his eyes, full of tears, on my gown. When I wish to console him, my grief stops me, as it is he who causes my greatest sorrow. How shall I nourish him? My poor husband left me nothing, and my hands are too weak to work. From whom then shall I seek help if it is not from you? It is in you alone that I repose my

hope. God without doubt will dispose your heart to help a poor unhappy widow. Show that the bonds of kindred which unite us are sacred. I resign my son to you; all that you do for him you do for me, and for

the memory of a man who loved you. What strength

and courage God has left me I will employ to gain my livelihood by working; but to raise my son to a respectable condition is not in my power. 1 resign my. son to you entirely. It will be cruel for me to see him go out of my own hands, but I must yield to necessity. However, a thought consoles me; it is that I entrust him to the goodness of a beneficent Creator, and to the bounty of a generous relation. Be to him what his father was, and put him in such a situation as to be able one day to lessen my grief. I cannot say any more-my tears, which blot this leaf, show you sufficiently what my heart feels. You hold in your hand my comfort, and my son's happiness. God will always bless you for your generosity. He will recompense you, even in this world, for what you shall have done for two unfortunate relations. I am, with the most profound grief, the unfortunate

CECILIA LAFORET.

Attested by Mr. Joseph Perry, Paragon, Paradise Fields, Hackney.

Other good TRANSLATIONS were sent by

Master Joseph Catlow, aged 13 years 10 months, Attercliffe.

Attested by Mr. Fieldsend.

Miss E. Sutcliffe, aged 14 years 9 months,
Attested by Mr. W. Sutcliffe, her uncle.
Master H. Leach, aged 133, Wisbeach,
Attested by his mother, Mrs. A. Leach.

Miss M. A. Aldersey, aged 144, Homerton,

Attested by Mrs. Batt.

Miss Mary Greaves, aged 14, Hackney,

Attested by Mrs. Batt, governess, Wertemberg-house Academy.

Master J. W. Hawkins, aged 15, Renhold Vicarage, Attested by the Rev. A. I. Crespin.

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