Our souls, my friend! which once sup- Nowa must return to you, plied

And sure apologies are due, One wish, nor breathed a thought be- Accept then my concession; side,

In truth, dear in fancy's flight, Now flow in different channels; I soar along from left to right, Disdaining humbler rural sports, My Musė admires digression. 'Tis yours to mix in polish'd courts, I think I said 'twould be your fate And shine in Fashion's annals.

To add one star fo royal state, 'Tis mine to waste on love my time, May regal smiles attend you; Or vent my reveries in rhyme,

And should a noble monarch reign, Without the aid of Reason;

You will not seek his smiles in vain, For sense and reason (Critics know it)

If worth can recommendyou. Have quitted every amorous Poet,

Yet, since in danger courts abound, Nor left a thought to seize on.

Where specious rivals glitter round, Poor LITTLE! sweet melodious bard; From snares, may Saints preserve Of late esteem'd it monstrous hard,

you; That he who sang before all,

And grant your love or friendship He who the lore of love expanded,

ne'er By dire Reviewers should be branded, From any claim a kindred care, As void of wit and moral.*

But those who best deserve you. And yet, while Beauty's praise is thine, Not for a moment may you stray Harmonious favourite of the Nine,

From Truth's secure unerring way, ; Repine not at thy lot ;

May no delights decoy; Thy soothing lays may still be read, O'er roses may your footsteps move, When persecution's arm is dead, Your smiles be ever smiles of love, And Critics are forgot.

Your tears be tears of joy. Ştill I must yield those worthies merit, Oh! if you wish that happiness Who chasten with unsparing spirit, Your coming days and years may bless, Bad rhymes, and those who write

And virtues crown your brow; them;

Be still, as you were wont to be, And though myself may be the next, Spotless as you've been known to me, By critic sarcasm to be vext,

Be still as you are now. I really will not fight them.t

And though some trilling share of Perhaps they would do quite as well, praise, 'To break the rudely sounding shell, To cheer my last declining days Of such a young beginner;

To me were doubly dear : He who offends at pert nineteen,

Whilst blessing your beloved name, Ere thirty, may become, 1 ween,

I'd wave at once a Poet's fame, A very harden'd sinner.

To prove a Prophet here.

These stanzas were written soon after the ap-
pearance of a severe Critique in a Northern
Review, on a new pubhcation of the British ON A DISSATISFIED MAN.

+ A Bard (Horesco referens), defied his Still restless, still chapping, and reviewer to mortal combat: if this example becomes prevalent, our periodical Cinsors must

changing about; be dipped in the River Styx, for what else can still enlarging, rebuilding, and maksecure them from the numerous host of ileir enraged assailants ?

ing a rout;

Little Timothy, outre as it may appear, In Winchester Church Yard. Pulls down, and builds up again, ten Here sleeps in peace a Hampshire times a year!

grenadier, With this altering .rage, poor dissa- Who caught his death by drinking tisfied elf,

cold small beer; What a pity it is he can't alter himself soldiers beware from his untimely fall,


And, when you're hot, drink strong, or

none at all.


In Lymington Church yard. Friendship changes not with storms, Nor vanishes with clouds ;

Here turn'd to dust, Oh! what a pity, Partakes not hues in fancy's forms,

Lies the body of Nicholas New City

N. B. His name was Newtonn but Nor wraps dispair in shrouds: Friendship is a star so dear!

that would'nt rhyme. So lasting and so bright! It passeth death's eternal sphere,

Eyigrams. And shines in endless light. Friendship, breathing from the heart, The Derivation of an Epigram. Is like a twin-born flame!

We call it, sir, an Epigram, That, though it sometimes glows, Because 'tis like a PIG aud RAM; apart,

'T'is like a RAM-it sometimes BUTTS, In essence is the same !

And upon vice derision puts; Beauty fades in sick decay,

'Tis like a Pig, whose Tail, my friend, And fortune's sway is brief,

In general, in a POINT does end!
But friendship points the happy way
From woe, and yields relief.


The poor have little-beggars none

The rich too mueh-enough not one.
The Church Vard.



Oh ! dried be the tears which o'ersha. A heart to mercy as to zeal inclined,

dow the rays As well a gentle as a prudent mind; Of thine eyes so bewiching and heaStill free to pardon, cautious to offend,

venly bright; A tender parent, and à faithful friend : Cast them off with a smile, then with All parts perform'd, she willingly with


rapture I'll gaze drew,

On those orbs which like planets Left the grieved world, and bid her illume the dull night.

friends adieu. Ah thou! (if spirits of regard or know, The sigh of friendship, or a daughters


Lines by “M. C.” in our next. Mix'd with those tears that wash the “ Bacchus" will not suit the Miscelsacred shrine,

lany. “Amicus," and “G. R.” are Accept the tribute of a grateful line ! under consideration. No. 6, Vol. I.---July 14, 1824.

(Printed and Published by F.Tt ash, Oxford.


horrors of a prison., After he had Select Biography.

got over this embarrassment he

had a great desire to travel; and “No part of History is more in- it is a circumstance worth recordstructive and delightful than the Lives ing, that he had so strong a proof great and worthy Men.”

pensity to see different countries, BURNETT.

inen, and manners, that even the

necessity of walking on foot could LIFE OF DR. GOLDSMITH.

not deter him from this favourite This gentleman was born at pursuit. His German Aute, on Elphin, in the county of Ros- which he played tolerably well, common, in Ireland, in the year frequently supplied him with the 1729. His father, the Reverend means of subsistence, and his Charles Goldsmith, had four sons, learning procured him a favourof whom Oliver, was the youngest. able reception at most of the reli· He studied the classics in Mr. gious houses he visited. He him:

Hughes's school; and on the 11th self tells us, that whenever he apof June, 1714, was admitted a proached a peasant's house, he sizer, in Trinity College, Dublin. played one of his merry tunes, During his . continuance at the and that generally procured him University he made no great dis- not only a nights lodging, but play of those shining abilities subsistance for the next day. which afterwards so distinguish- He had not long arrived at edly marked his genius. In Fe-Geneva, when he met with a bruary, 1749, two years after the young man, who became pos* regular course of things, he ob- sessed of a considerable income, tained the degree of Bachelor of on the death of an uncle, and to Arts. In 1751 he visited Edin- whom Dr. Goldsmith was recomburgh, having previously turned mended as a travelling companion, his thoughts to the profession of As avarice was the prevailing physic, and attended some courses principle of this young man, it

of anátomy in Dublin. At Edin- cannot be supposed he was long burgh, he studied the different pleased with his preceptor, who -branches of medicine under the was of a contrary turn of mind. respective professors in that Uni- Dr. Goldsmith, during his resi. versity. His thoughtless, though dence at the college of Edinburgh, beneficent disposition soon involv- had given marks of his rising ed him in difficulties; and having genius for poetry, which Switzermade himself responsible for the land greatly tontributed to bring debts of another person, a fellow-to maturity. It was heré he student, he was obliged abrupt- wrote the first sketch of The Fra-Iy to leave Scotland to avoid the veller, which he sent to his brother


The pro

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Henry, a clergyman in Ireland, The Good-natured Man was who, despising fame and fortune, acted at Covent Garden Theatre, retired with an amiable wife to pass in the year 1768, and succeeded, a life of happiness and obscurity. though in a degree inferior to its “A man he was to all the country merit; many parts of it exhibit the dear,

strongest indications of our auAnd passing rich at forty pounds a thor's comic talents. year.""

logue to it, which is excellent, was Our poet and pupil soon separa- written by Dr. Samuel Johnson. ted and the former being satisfied In 1773, the comedy of She with travelling, bent his course to- Stoops to Conqueror the Mistakes wards England. His situation of u Night, was acted at Covent was not much mended on his arri-Garden Theatre.

This piece was, val in London, at which period the by some writers, considered as a whole of his finances were reduced farce; even if so, it must be ranked to a few halfpence.

among the farces of a man of After having surmounted many genius. difficulties he at last became a lit- The last theatrical piece the tle more settled, and in 1759 pro- Doctor produced was The Grumduced several works, particularly bler, a Farce, altered from Sedley. a periodical publication, called It was acted first in 1773, for The Bee, and An Inquiry the benefit of Mr. Quick, but it into the Present State of po- was acted that night only, and lite Learning in Europe. He was never prinied. also became a writer in The Pub- He had been for some years, at lic Ledger in which his Citizen different times, affected with a vioof the World originally appeared lent stranguary, which contributunder the title of Chinese Letters. ed to imbitter the latter part of His reputation rapidly increased, his life, and which, united with the and at length was fully established vexations he suffered upon other by his publication of The Travel- occasions, brought on a kind of ier, in the year 1765. His Vicar habitual despondency. In this of Wakefield followed his Travel- condition he was attacked by a ler and his History of England nervous fever, which, in spite of was followed by the performance the most able medical assistance, of the comedy of The Good- terminated in his dissolution on natured Man, all of which contri- the 4th of April, 1774, in the 45th buted to place him among


of his first rank of the poets of these His remains were deposited in times.

the burial ground of the temple,

where he had resided some time, • Deserted Village..

anil a monument has since been


erected to his memory, in West- the Doctor, embellished with liteminster Abbey, at the expense of rary ornaments; underneath which a literary club to which he belong- is a tablet of white marble with ed. It consists of a large medal- the following Inscription, written sion, exhibiting a good likeness of by his friend, Dr. S. Johnson.


Of The Inscription on the Tomb of


This Monument is raised

To the Memory of
Poet, Natural Philosopher, and Historian :
Who left no species of Writing untouched;

Unadorned by his Pen,
Whether to move laughter,

Or draw tears ;
He was a powerful master

Over the affections,
Tho' at the same time a gentle tyrant;
Of a genius at once sublime, lively, and

Equal to every subject;
In expression at once noble,

Pure, and delicate,

His memory will last
As long as Society retains affection,

Friendship is not void of Honour,
And Reading wants not her admirers.
He was born in the Kingdom of Ireland,
At Fernes, in the Province

Of Leinster,
Where Pallas had set her name,

He was educated at Dublin,

And died in London,

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