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permission, four or five times, to go his shilling with the marshal, with great vehemence declared, upon the honour of a soldier, that he had not the box, nor knew any thing of it; but that he would die rather than be searched. He was willing, however, to retire to the next room and defend his honour or perish in the attempt. The marshal, who before had his suspicions, was now confirmed in them; and, as the sword was to be resorted to, instantly prepared for the attack; but to his confusion, in drawing, he felt the box in a secret pocket. Stung with remorse at having wounded the honour of a soldier, he said, as he hastily left the room: “ Sir, I here, with great reason, ask your pardon, and hope to find it granted, by your breakfasting with me, and hereafter ranking me amongst your friends At breakfast, the Marshal said: “ Why, sir, could you refuse being searched?” “Because, Marshal, being upon half pay, and friendless, I am obliged to husband every penny. I had, that day, little appetite ; and as I could not eat what I had paid for nor afford to loose it, the leg and wing of a fowl, with a manchet, were then wrapped up in a piece of paper in my pocket. The idea of these being found there, appeared ten times more terrible than fighting the room round" “ Enough, my dear boy, you have said enough! Your name. Let us dine at Sweet's to morrow. We must prevent your being subjected again to such a dilemma."
At Sweet’s, the Marshal presented him with a captain's commission, and a purse of guineas to enable him to join the regiment. This exactly explains Wade's character. It does him honour. The poor officer, though evidently fond of fowl, was, it is still more evident, not « chicken hearted." By such extraordinary accidents does merit gain what it otherwise ought to have obtained.
Fielding being one day in the shop of Andrew Millar, the bookseller, in conversation with some others, he was observing, that though he allowed Scotchmen a good deal of acumen and learning, they had little or no humour, and were besides very credulous. This being denied by one of the party, Fielding betted him a guinea he would tell Andrew Millar, who had just at that time stepped into the back parlour, a story that no man would believe but himself. The wager being accepted, and Millar returned to his shop, Fielding very gravely asked his advice about setting up a coach. Millar, who knew his circumstances, at once exclaimed against the extravagance and folly of it. “ Nay, but,” said Fielding, “ you don't know how I intend to manage. This coach shall be ready at my office door, every morning at a certain hour, to carry the people who are brought before me as a police magistrate to their several destinations. Now, as I have, upon an average, five thousand people brought before me in a year, take the calculauon only at two shillings a head, ihat will produce 5001. a year; which will give me the convenience and eclat of a coach, and put 3001. a year in my pocket. Well, what do you think of my scheme?"
Millar seemed astonished for a while. At last, breaking out into a passion, he exclaimed, it was the silliest, maddest scheme he ever heard of: that he not only would expose himself to the world, but would likewise run the risk of catching all kinds of those disorders which rogues and vagabonds were subject to.“ Well, Andrew,” replied l'ielding, “ I shall consider of what you say ; in the mean time,” looking at the gentleman whom he had betted with very significantly, “ please to hand me over a guinea, which I believe you will acknowledge I have won.” The other admitted the wager won, gave Fielding his guinea, and they all enjoyed the laugh at Millar's expense.
But if, as colder breezes blow,
Prophetick of the waning year,
You hide, tho' none know when or how, The banks with speedwell towers are In the cliff's excavated brow,
And linger torpid here; gay, The oaks are budding; and beneath, Thus lost to life, what favouring dream, The hawthorn soon will bear the wreath, Bids you to happier hours awake; The silver wreath of May.
And tells, that dancing in the beam, The welcome guest of settled spring,
The light gnat hovers o'er the stream,
The Mayfly on the lake?
Approaching dearth of insect food ,
To isles and willowy aits you go, Come, summer visitant, attack
And crowding on the pliant bough, To my reed roof your nest of clay,
Sink in the dimpling flood : And let my ear your musick catch How learn ye, while the cold waves boots Low twittering underneath the thatch Your deep and ousy couch above, At the gray dawn of day.
The time when flowers of promise bloom, As fables tell, an Indian sage,
And call you from your transient tomb, The Hindostani woods among,
To light, and life, and love? Could, in his desert hermitage,
Alas! how little can be known, As if 'twere marked in written page,
Her sacred veil where Nature draws: Translate the wild bird's song:
Let baffled Science humbly own,
Her mysteries understood alone,
You came across the sea.
POOR BARLEY CORN:
FROM FARLEY'S BRISTOL JOURNAL. You sailed above the western main,
The following beautiful tribute to the geThe wind your charioteer.
nial virtues of our old English beverage, In Africk, does the sultry gale
likely soon to be known rather by memoThrough spicy bower, and palmy grove, ry than taste, was written in the days of Bear the repeated cuckoo's tale?
Charles II. and has probably remained in Dwells there a time, the Wandering rail, MS. to this day. Or the itinerant dove?
WHEN the chill north-east blows, Were you in Asia ? O relate,
And Winter tells a heavy tale, If there your fabled sister's woes When pies, and daws, and doobs, and crows She secmed in sorrow to narrate;
Do sit, and curse the frost and snows, Or sings she but to celebrate
Then give me ale. Her nuptials with the rose ?
Ale, that the absent battle fights, I would inquire how journeying long, And forms the march o' the Swedish The vast and pathless ocean o'er,
drem, You ply again those pinions strong, Disputes the prince's laws and rights, And come to build anew among
What's gone and past tells mortal wights, The scenes you left before ;
And what's to come.
Ale, that the ploughman's heart upleaps, Free let her talk the live-long day,
And equals it to tyrant's thrones, Or wisely grave, or sweetly gay,
Joy will pervade my inmost soul,
Rapture's deep tide will o'er me rolly Ale, that securely climbs the tops
And melt my breast to love.
Of the wild choral lays in spring,
The lark and linnets song ;
Faint are the pleasures they inspire,
My fair one's prattle I require
To charm me all day long.
One purs, the other barks;
Why then should man with lordly sway, Wine's emulous neighbour, if but stale, On women's tongues embargo lay? Ennobling all the nymphs of water,
Fie, fie, conceited sparks ! And filling each man's heart with laughter, Vain ye may be of sense profound, Hah! give me ale.
And say, with folly they abound
But, can ye talk so well!
Loud is your speech, as cataracts deep, Occasioned by a lady's being offended at Or night gales hoarse from rocky steep her lover's mentioning that, in general,
Or dull ill-omened knell: women, were inclined to loquacity. Whilst lovely woman's accents glide ILL-NATURED wits, conceited, vain,
Smooth as the stream's unruffled tide, To thoughts sarcastick give the rein,
Melodious as a rill; On lovely women's tongue :
Care flies at her mellifluous voice; Poor shallow things, whose tunelesg souls, Ye cynicks! can I then rejoice Seraphick musick ne'er controls,
If her sweet tongue lies still? By angels sweetly sung.
How deaf to musick, dead to taste, What if the check of roseate hue,
Are those who'midst such pleasures chaste And fine dark sparkling eyes I view, Unjoyous ever sit! And shape by beauty made;
To forests drear let them be sent, And mind with wisdom amply blest, And ever kept in banishment, Could these give rapture to my breast, Till they regain their wit.
1f-dumb my charming maid ?
WITH BRIEF CHARACTERISTICKS. Drowned by shipwreck, off Memel, Colonel Pollen, only son of the Rev. George Pollen, of little Bookham, in Surrey. He was in the 33d year of his age, and, possessing a fine and vigorous understanding, highly improved by education, and by his extensive travels, there is no doubt, if he had returned to his native country (as he was attempting to do when this dreadful accident put a period to all his hopes) he would have proved a distinguished ornament to it. In 1796, on his coming of age, he opposed the interest of the Duke of Norfolk, for the representation of the populous borough of Leominster, which he carried by a majority of one. He afterwards raised a regiment of fencibles at his own expense, for the service of government, and attended with it on its being ordered to Halifax, in Nova Scotia ; but for several years he has been constantly travelling on the continent. At St. Petersburgh, he married one of the daughters of Sir Charles Gascoigne (sister to the countess of Haddington, now married to
Mr. Dalrymple) who was with him when the wreck took place, but who appears to be happily saved.
At Elynhill, Staffordshire, in the 86th year of his age, John Brotherton, labourer, a native of the parish of Cully backey, Ireland During eighteen years of his youth, he served his country in the grenadier company of the 37th regiment, and fought with that corps in the battle of Minden. Boldness and intrepidity strongly marked the countenance of Brotherton. There was something noble in his whole appearance. An anecdote illustrative of the care of Divine Providence, deserves to be recorded in this account. Immediately on his leaving his native cottage to enter the army, Brotherton took with him a small Bible, determined to make it the constant companion of his marches. Previous to an engagement, he put the book upon his breast, between his coat and waist-coat, a practice to which be once owed the preservation of his life. In an action fought in Germany, while the 37th regiment was engaged in close quarters with the enemy, he received a thrust from a bayonet directed against his breast; the point of the weapon, after piercing his belt and coat, passed through the cover of the Bible, and perforated 52 of the leaves. This book now remains in the possession of one of his brothers.
In October 1807, at his residence in Maryland, in the 73d year of his age, Mr. Benjamin Banneker, a black man, and immediately descended from African parents. He was remarked in the circle of his acquaintance, by his correct and gentle manners, and known among scientifick men as a mathematician and astronomer. In early life, his acquirements were confined to the common elements of instruction ; but afterwards, assisted by such books as chance threw in his humble path, and guided by his genius alone, he acquired a competent knowledge of the higher branches of learning. Mingling the calm pursuits of science with the active occupations of husbandry on his own lands, he devoted much of his time to study and contemplation. To no reading was he more attached than to that of the Holy Scriptures. Mr. B. was the calculator of an Ephemeris, adapted to and published for many years in Maryland, and the adjacent states. At his decease he bequeathed his library and several manuscript tracts on his favourite studies, to a friend, who, it is hoped, will lay before the publick such of the latter as may be found worthy of its attention, and thus rescue from oblivion the memory of this modest and interesting child of African
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