(The wrath of Winter from the bleak north-east,)

Thine utmost suff'rings in the coldest day

A period terminates, and joys repay. Perhaps e'en now, while here those Full many a bark rides down the neigh

joys we boast,

b'ring coast, Where the high northern waves tremendous roar,

Drove down by blasts from Norway's icy shore.

thou,

The sea-boy there, less fortunate than Feels all thy pains in all the gusts that

blow;

His freezing hands now drench'd, now dry, by turns;

Now lost, now seen, the distant light that burns,

the tide.

On some tall cliff uprais'd, a flaming guide, That throws its friendly radiance o'er His labours cease not with declining day, But toils and pleasures mark his wat'ry

ence goes,

When the cheer'd heart forgets fatigues and cares,

And drowsiness alone dominion bears.'

BLOOMFIELD.

These thoughts filled my mind till I had reached the village of N-, where memory reminded me of the fate of poor Jane S, the daughter of a respectable innkeeper there. It may form a lesson for the female mind; and although many men may laugh at the story, and ridicule me for introducing it, still it must interest every feminine breast that is not callous to the sufferings of its own sex; and I am proud of my country in this particular: for, notwithstanding all the witty effusions against the scandal, illnature, and other ill qualities of the women of this isle, I would fain inquire where is the country upon earth, whose females can boast of so much real modesty, real affection, and true charity, as the blooming females of Great Britain. Ever may these be their characteristics; ever may their breasts glow with these sensations, the best that human nature can

feel.

Jane S, at the age of nineteen, was as pleasing a female as the eye would wish to gaze on; she had not, perhaps, all the dazzling beauty of more polished dames, but there was a diffidence in her manner, an unassuming benevolence in her countenance, that was far preferable to it.About this time a young man

came to reside in the village as the foreman to a large manufactory; he possessed a fine person, and a remarkably insinuating address, which made his company much sought; and in his pleasurable parties he frequently used the house of Jane's father: this led him into the company of the unsuspicious fair one, to whom he soon paid his addresses, and at length solicited her hand. She, loving him as she did, with all the fervour of true affection, easily promised for herself; but her father was not so easily persuaded. He very properly recollected that this young man was a total stranger; who, or what his friends were, was totally unknown; it was indeed ascertained that he was a native of a northern county, but there was altogether such a degree of mystery about him, that, added to a report which had been circulated, of his having already got a wife and family in some distant part of the kingdom, induced him to give a positive denial. Madly infatuated, poor Jane listened to the persuasive language that fell from the villain's tongue, left her father's house, was united to him, and continued to reside in the same place, though unnoticed by her father or her friends. The motive which evidently had induced her husband to this conduct, was that of her being the only daughter of a man he knew to possess considerable property, some of which he hoped to obtain. Two years elapsed, and Jane had brought him two children; when positive inteligence reached her father of the residence of the wife and children this miscreant had deserted; he immediately journeyed to the place, and discovered them in a state of the most abject

misery, partly supported by the parish, and partly by the poor woman's labour. During his absence, this fiend in human shape having already found he should not be able to obtain any money from Jane's father, and dreading a prosecution now that he knew the abode of his deserted wife was discovered, left poor Jane pregnant of her third child, after having plundered her of every thing he could, and it is supposed got off to America, for he has never since that time been heard of.

Jane's father, on his return, found his daughter in a dreadful state of anguish. He instantly took her back to his own home, where every thing has been done to alleviate her sorrows; but the wound is too deep ever to be healed: she is like an early flower blighted by the bitter blast; and the only solace of her anguished moments is to hang over her unfortunate infants, down whose unconscious cheeks often fall her tears of agonized sensibility. Her miserable situation brought to my memory these lines :

But, ah! on Sorrow's cypress bough Can Beauty breathe her genial bloom? On Death's cold cheek will passion glow? Or music warble from the tomb ?'

JUNE.

5. The election for Yorkshire closed, when Mr. Wilberforce and lord Milton were declared duly elected.

14. The decisive battle of Friedland fought between the French and Russians, in which the latter lost above 30,000 men, and 80 pieces of cannon.

22. An armistice concluded between Russia and France.

24. The conference between Bonaparte and the emperor of Russia on a raft in the middle of the Niemen.

29. The return of sir Francis Burdett for the city of Westminster celebrated, on which occasion sir Francis rode in lofty from his house to the Crown and Anchor tavern in the

Strand.

a

JULY.

7. The duchess of Brunswick landed at Gravesend.

16. The emperor of Russia arrived at St. Petersburgh, after having concluded the peace of Tilsit.

26. Bonaparte arrived at St. Cloud, having returned from the army in Poland.

AUGUST.

29. Orders issued to detain ail Danish vessels, and send in all ships of that nation.

SEPTEMBER.

7. The city of Copenhagen surrendered after a bombardment of three nights, and the English fleet and army took possession of the fleet and arsenals of Denmark, and of the city of Copenhagen.

12. Intelligence received from lieutenant-general Whitelocke that an attack made by the British troops on the town of Buenos Ayres having completely failed, a convention had been entered into to evacuate South America within two months on condition that all the prisoners should be restored.

18. The powder-mills at Feversham blew up, and six men and three horses were killed.

5 A

:

THE setting sun proclaims departing day,

The bleating flocks returning to their fold,

And evening twilight comes, whilst Sol's last rav,

Tinges the ring clouds with brightest gold.

The mild serenity of evening air,

The mind to silent contemplation leads,

And all around smiles Nature's bounteous, care,

Whilst beauteous verdure clothes the lovely meads.

Then how delightful pleasant 'tis to stray,

Amidst yon Gothic ruin'd stately pile,

Where once pale Superstition held her sway,

And Sorrow echo'd through the length'ning aisle.

Blest Fancy aids us, whilst we call to mind,

Its inmates, long since number'd with the dead,

Yon frowning turrets now with ivy crown'd,

Those gloomy cells with waving moss o'ergrown,

Might once confine a warrior re nown'd,

Or echo'd to a penitential's moan.

The vaulted chapel that was once so grand,

That echo'd with the pealing organ's sound, Where once the pious monk, with uplift hand,

Or bent in meek devotion to the ground.

But now, alas! in ruins all are seen, And scatter'd fragments burst upon the sight,

Whilst nought is heard but the dread raven's scream,

Or birds ill-omen'd hov'ring thro' the night.