hemfelves furnish, against thofe extravagances of theory which confounded the established maxims of reafon, wifdom, and experience, which alarmed the whole civilized world with the dread of barbarism, convulfion, and diffolution?" (p. 7.) The feparate parts of this fubject are handled with the utmoft ability and force in the body of the fermon; and, towards the conclufion, the preacher very fkilfully contrafts the progreffive nature of our Conftitution with the wild theories of per Sermon, preached before the Society incorporated by Royal Charter for the Benefit of the Sons of the Clergy of the Etablished Church of Scotland, in St. Andrew's Church, Edinburgh. May 22, 1801. By James Finlayfon, D. D. F.R. S. E. one of the Minifters of the High Church, and Profeffer of Logick in the University of Edinburgh. To which is added, An Account of the Obje&s and Conftitution of the Society. Published by the Defire of the General Meeting of the Society and the Subfcribers. IT gives us great pleasure to learn that a Society, fimilar to that in Eng-fection which have unfeitled other na tions. "The language of our Conftiland, for the Relief of the Sons of the Clergy of the Etablifhed Church, has tution," he tells us, "is the redress of been inftituted and fauctioned by Royaltion in good, but the remedy of exiftgrievances; we never think of perfec Authority in Scotland. The preacher, from 1 Cor. i. 21, undertakes to prove that the preaching of the Gospel has contributed, more than any thing elfe, to the progreflive improvement of mankind in knowledge, confolation, and virtue. 217. A Sermon, preached before the Honourable Houfe of Commons, at the Church of St. Margaret, Westminster, on Tuesday, June 1, 1802, being the Day appointed for a General Thanksgiving. By William Vincent, D.D. Subalmoner to bis Majefty, and Prebendary of Westminster. THIS manly, eloquent, and energetic difcourfe was heard, with the higheft fatisfaction, by a large congregation, and particularly by a molt relpectable attendance from the Honourable Houfe at the defire of which it was delivered. The text is of a general nature, "Doubt lefs there is a God that judgeth the earth," Pfalm lviii. 10; but the proof of it is particular, and is drawn from the great refults of the French Revolution, in overthrowing thofe very principles by means of which it was effected. Thefe principles the preacher undertakes to examine, as they affect the religion, the morals, and the political exiftence of fociety; and he thus anticipates the conclufion, which is very fully proved in the feparate divifions of the fermon. "If, in point of religion, the fame nation which tolerated Atheifin has been forced to acknowledge that there is a God that judgeth the earth; if, in regard to morals, they have been compelled to recall the law of divorce; if, in their political capacity, they have been driven to declare, in one of their laft public documents, that an equality of rights is an equality of mifery; what farther evidence can be required, than they ing evil." Our Conflitution has confequently "been in a progreflive ftate of the Great Charter to the Revolution. of improvement, from the ratification In a progreflive flate, becaufe we never boaft of perfection, either in our Conftitution itself, or is the Adminifiration which conducts it, or in the Parliament which advifes and balances the whole; but the Conftitution, though incomplete, is good; and the Parliament, though imperfect, is fill the voice, the guide, and the palladium, of the people: to this they look with confidence for the redrefs of grievances; and, while that confidence is unabated, the innovator will rear the ftandard of Sedition in vain. Our Conflitution knows nothing of innovation, or firft principles; the Revolution itself had no recourse to them; it neither regenerated nor retiored, but continued and preferved; and thofe great ftatefimen who effected it crowned and completed the code with the Bill of Rights. What more then have we to wifh at the prefent moment but that the rational liberty established at that period may never be facrificed to the refinement of theory, or polluted by the licentioufnefs of democracy?" (p. 31.) Such fentiments, fo expreffed, require not any panegyrick to exalt them; and we leave them to produce their own effect upon the minds of all competent readers. 218. A Letter to William Biker, Efq. ECandidate for the County of Hertford. By a Hertfordshire Freeholder. THERE is nothing in this letter which has not been fufficiently anfwered in Mr. B's Addrefs to the Freeholders, printed in our p. 706. Mr SWEET Harriett, afford me relief, And advife without fear or restraint, Let a heart, overflowing with grief, Pour its forrows in tender complaint. Thine aid to my fuff rings extend, Confolation no comfort will bring, The fatal distemper's conceal'd, Feels it's anguish with tenfold despair, That no more I must cherish the thought, And upbraid me with am'rous difguife; Nor reflects on it's fatentral. But tho' Love fhould my reafon control, Tho' her image poffeffes my foul, Yet I'll fly from reflection to you. When a thousand strong motives com bine, Can my heart it's indifference refume, Or tranquillity reafon allume? Will folitude bring me repofe, And anxious ren embrance remove, Can books, or can mufic, difc'efe Such charms as to dilipate love? Aud other fair charmers among, And my under attachment forget: To the prudent advice you bestow, MR. URBAN, A$ EDWARD. Oxford, Sept. 24. S every thing which relates to our late excellent poet Cowper cannot but be interefting to literary men; Ifend you the Epitaph, which is infcribed on a Monu ment erected to the memory of his amiable mother, in the chancel of Berkhanipftead Church, Herts; of which parith Mr. Cowper's father was many years the incumbent, and where alfo "The Bard of England” was born. J. A. K. Her love to him preferving ev'n in death, breath. Still was Ore ftudious never to offend, Defpifing state, with her own lot content, Her mind heroic midft the pangs of death. draw near, Oftay awhile, and thed a friendly tear; Thefe lines, tho' weak, are like herself, fincere." ELEGY, To the Memory of WILLIAM COWPER, Elg. T O thee, great Bard, each grateful The left fad tribute to thy mem'ry due: For the would cull the fweeteft flow'rs ['ands threw. of May, For thou waft dear alike to all the Nine, that burn," were thine, [Fafe. Still as we read, th' enraptur'd foul doth [glowing line; own, 'Tis Heav'n-born genius marks. each Tis Fancy hails thee as her fav'rite fon, Fraught with rich ftores from her exhauftless mine. To Virtue dear thy felf, in Virtue's praise, Oft as the theme thy fond regard did claim, Grac'd by the magic sweetness of thy lavs, Exalted higher feem'd her (potle's name. Religion too, fweet balm of ev'ry ill, Her doctrines pure thy tuneful strains imprefs'd, E'en with as fervent, with as fix'd a zeal, As ever fir'da Saint's or Martyr's breaft. ride But foon unafk'd he vaunts in royal strain These are his play-things-and he throws fleeves; And ever and anon with fcreaming voice While Vice and Folly felt thy keen rebuke, Dart from his eye; but foon that eye is Fix'd in deep gaze on Heav'n, and now on [head earth. Lank falls bis dark brown hair; for on his The wanton curl knows not to play its tricks. Now filent fad he droops, like ftudent pale, By watching wearied, couching his faint [Harts eye In ftealthy flumbers. Upwards foon he Swift, fwift he flies with wild irregular pace, As driv'n by Fury: then as thunder-fmitten, Or as outstript by fome thin-mantled Ghoft, Violent he stops, till with pale fhrivel'd hand [deep He ftrikes his forehead, like one labouring With vast concerns. "Ah! wretched, poor forlorn, [refolve?" Where art thou hurried? What thy great To thefe my questions answer none he [fteps, gives, While a weak female backward thins his As the light helm the veel tempeft-tott. Then will he stately rife upon his ftool, him life, Wretched existence! him with flaming And direful thunberbolt, he dares, refolv'd, As Briareus of old the mighty Jove, Soon to dethrone the tyranny of Heav'n. Oh! then he stops, and howls fo hideouswild, [him round. As fome damn'd fiend had fait engrafp'd Thou miferable man! if e'er the milk Of fympathy ftream'd quick within this breast, [flows While Nature figh'd for utterance, now it With female fof.nefs: Oh! had 1 but a PROLOGUE To The Merchant of Venice, acted at Reading School. Written by H. J. PYE, Efq. on the Occafion of a Play being performed at Reading, by the Gentlemen of Dr. VALPY'S School, for the Benefit of the Literary Fund. Spoken by Mr. EYRE. W HILE SHAKESPEARE'S plaftic pencil to your eyes Bids the majestic tow'rs of Venice rifeScenes to the British Mufe appropriate long, The fav'rite objects of dramatic fong; (For, here in dreadful pathos, wildly great, Hethrill'd the foul with DESDEMONA's fate; Here gentler OTWAY taught the tear to flow At the fad tale of BELVIDERA's woe.) Surely a British Audience must deplore The wreck of ancient glories, now no more ! [the deep Where now the daring prows, that plough'd From Acre's trophied wall to Calpe's fleep, To the light breeze the fail of Commerce gave, [wave? Or fwept the faded Crefcent from the Sunk, funk, alas! in dire Oppreffion's hour, The abject valfals of a foreign pow'r ! zone Omens of better hope and happier fate, ALBION, on thy commercial empire wait: Thy royal merchants, not intent alone Treasures to bring from Earth's remoteft [wind, Bright Science waft with ev'ry fav'ring Spread Virtue's love, and meliorate mankind. [form Their barks, in peace, the hardy feaman A living bulwark 'gainst the battle's storm. Induc'd by them, ftrong Agriculture's arm Cloaths all our fields in verdure's livelier [pride, Our forefts wave with more luxuriant Our fertile uplands richer harvests hide : Stout Labour digs the metal from the mine, While Skill and Induftry the mafs refine; Defence and plenty to our fields afford, And forge alike the coulter and the fwordThe real arts of Alchy my untold, And ev'ry bafer fubitance turn to gold. charm; In the juft choice by wife BASSANIO made, This folemn truth the Poet's pen convey'd Silver and gold, of fultry clime the birth, By gen'ral ufe ftamp'd with ideal worth, Are but the figus of wealth-Iberia pines In poverty amid Potofi's mines; While the rude ores our Northern monutains yield Open to manly toil an ample field, With ev'ry produce, drawn from ev'ry The glorious prize, where Faith and Honour And wealth Is strict Integrity's reward. Hence learns commercial creditto command, With one flight touch of her etherial wand, More treasures than in Ocean's cayers lie, Or Earth's exhauited entrands can fupply! Y EPILOGUE. OU, who fo oft before affembled here, With ready hands beftow'd the kind relief, And fhar'd your comfort with the íons of grief; You-well I know-your charity to raise, No beggar's cant require, nor courtier's phrafe, In feeling minds unvarnish'd truths prevail, Tonight I plead the cause of injur’d mind: Of mind, whose bright and heav'n-afpiring flame Is doom'd to languish in its earthly frame, Extinct its blaze, and chill'd its gemal glow, The fport of envy, and the prey of woe. Hope fwells my bofom-on each face I read, [ceed. The claims of starving Genius mutt fucLong had our Ifle, for virtuous deeds re nown'd, Awak'd the wonder of the nations round; The fons of valour to their native shore; fight [dome Not fuch the Scholar's fate-no fpacious Supplied the Child of Science with a home; Tho' fraught with genius, 'twas his hapless lot To toil for empty praise, and be forgot: He funk, at laft, the victim of despair, Swift from thine impious hands the poifon throw: [thy breath, Bear, bear, thy fate, till Heav'n demand Drink not-the vial's drugg'd with double death: [gain, 'Tis gone the searching ftreams the vitals And every finew is convuls'd with pain; Life can no more futtain the unequal fight, He dies--and Bristol's glory fets in night. Bleft be the man, who first in Learning's [maid, Stretch'd forth his arm to fave the fainting Rais'd her pale form, upheld her drooping [bread: head; Gave, what the world denied a little Whofe comprehenfive mind, with noblest (To make his bounty lafting as his fame) I come this night your charity to court. Her fav'rite toil, her wonted rafk renews; And refcued Genius is heríelf again. To the Memory of THOMAS CHATTERTON, 1 mark thy Mofe; her Gothic lyre Well faits the legendary lay; White, darting from her eyes of fire, She beams a vifionary day: Bright as the magic torch the early gave, There, as the taught thee to behold Great Ella's griefs, or Juga's tears; Poet fublime; although no frulpturʼd urn, No monumental bult thy athes grace; An Epifle from the Rev. RICHARD BRERE- late Bishop of Glocefter. W HEN you, my Lord, to town repair, Nay, fure I owe you much, aye more A wife who, Heaven ftill in her eye, Hence too the grateful Mufe would raife |