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of his master was not duly under- fell on his knees to the king, bem stoed; but since it was so abruptly seeching him that a herald might be rejected, he could do no less than say sent to the French ambassador from that the king knew well enough what him, bearing an accusation of falsity, to do.' De Luines arswered-We and a challenge for satisfaction ; but are not afraid of you.' Sir Edward, James, being of a quiet pacific dissmiling a little, replied, “If you had position, only made answer, 'that he said you had not loved us I should would think of it.' De Luines died have believed you, and should have soon after, and sir Edward Herbert given you another answer; in the was again sent ambassador to France. mean time, all that I will tell you more is, that we know very well what we have to do.' De Luines, upon this, starting from his seat,
MARRIAGE SETTLEMENTS. said, “By G--, if you were not JOHN marquis of Tweedale, who monsieur l'ambassadeur I know very wasthe last secretary of state for Scota well how I would use you.' Sir land, before that place was annexed Edward, also rising from his chair, to the secretaryship for the home said, that as he was the king of department, espoused lady Frances Great Britain's ambassador, so he Carteret, daughter of lord Carteret, was also a gentleman, and that his afterwards earl of Granville, several sword (on which he clapped his years lord lieutenant of Ireland, and hand) should give him instant satis- once president of the English privy faction, if he was pleased to take council. any offence.' To this the Frenchman This marriage was preceded by made no reply ; and Sir Edward the following singular circumstance. walked towards the door, to which It happened that these two nobleDe Luines seeming to accompany men met together at Florence, when him, Sir Edward said that, after their respective tours through such language there was no occasion Europe. Lord Carterét was then we to use such ceremony ;' and so de- married man. One day being in tamiparted, expecting to hear further liar conversation with each other, from him.
lord Carteret took occasion to ex He had afterwards a gracious patiate on the comforts of matria audience of the French king; after mony, which he forcibly contrasted which a court lord telling him, that, with the joyless state of a bachelor. after having offended the constable The marquis assented to the truth De Luines, he was not in a place of of his observations, but owned that safety, he gallantly answered, that he had never as yet seriously thought " he always considered himself in a of taking to himself a wife. Lord place of safety wherever his sword Carteret then told him, that though went with him.'
he had then no child, he bespoke The vindictive De Luines pro- him for a son-in-law. Whether he cured his brother with a train of offi- meant this declaration as jocular or cers (of whom there was not one', as otherwise, certain it is that the first he told king James, that had not killed child his lady brought him after his his man) to go as ambassador extraor- return to England was the very dinary to England, who so misrepre- daughter whom the marquis mara sented the affair, ihat sir Edward was ried about twenty years afterward, recalled; but on his return cleared up As the whole of lord Tweedale's real the affair to his honour. He however estate lay in Scotland, the marriage
articles between him and his lady cretion. When he had cast his eyes were drawn up by his solicitor in on that clause he instantly drew his Edinburgh, under the inspection of pen across it, and wrote upon the his lawyers there. The rough draft opposite margin these words : Not of the deed was transmitted to Lon- a shilling! , I have seen enough of don, for the perusal of lord Gran- the consequences of wives being inville. Among other usual clauses, dependent of their husbands ever to there was a stipulation for pin-mo- consent to my daughter's having a ney to the lady during marriage, right to demand pin-money. Let and a blank left for the specific sum her depend upon her lord, as every to be filled up at his lordship's dis- wife ought to do.'
ODE for the NEW YEAR, 1507. To sweep th' injurious boasters from the
main, By H. J. PYE, Esq: P.L.
Who dare to circumscribe Britannia's naval
III. WHEN loud and drear the tempests roar,
And see with emulative zeal When high the billowy mountains rise, Our hosts congenial ardour feel; And headlong 'gainst the rocky shore,
The ardent spirit that of yore Driven by the blast, the giddy vessel flies; Flain’d high on Gallia's vanquish'd Unguided, by the wild waves borne,
shore; Her rudder broke, her tackling torn;
Or burn'd lwy Danube's distant food, Say, does the seanian's daring niind
When flow'd his current ting'd with Gal. Shrink from the angry frown of fate?
lic blood; Does he, to abject fear resign'd,
Or shone on Lincelies' later fight; Th’impending stroke in silence wait? Or fir'd by Acre's tow'rs the Christian No-while he pours the fervent pray’r
Knight ; To Him whose tvill can punish or can spare, Or taught on Maida's fields the Gaul to Cool and intrepid ʼmid the sound
feel, Of winds and waves that rage around,
Urgʻd by the Briton's arm, the British The pow'rs that skill and strength impart,
The nervous arm, th' undaunted heart, Now in each breast with heat redoubled glows, Collecting,-firm he fronţs the threat'ning And gleams dismay and death on Europe's storm,
Not to Ambition's specious charm,
Is conquest bound-a Mightier Arm Dismay'd do Britain's hardy train
Than Earth's proud Tyrants can withAwait in doubt the threat'ning hour?
stand, Lo! to his sons, with cheering voice,
The balance holds of human fate, Albion's bild Genius calls aloud;
Raises the low and sinks the great. Around hin valiant myriads crowd,
Exerting then in Europe's cause Or death or victory their choice :
Each energy of arm and mind, From ev'ry port astonishid Europe sees All that from force or skill the warrior Britannia's white sails swelling with the
Yet to th' Almighty Pow'r resign'd, Not her imperial barks alone
Whose high behest ali nature's movements
Where Nature's pencil lights her brightest
dies, ADDRESSED TO
And all Brazilia flames before our eyes. DR. THORNTON,
'Though o'er her head the southern whil On the Completion of his Temple of Flora, or Secure, behold! superb Streliteia wave; Garden of Naturi.
While amidst barren rocks and arctic snows
Fair Kalmia in refulgent beauty glows: OH! Bards of Athens! for your classic
Lo! Cereus, faithful to th' appointed house rage,
With glory's beams illumes the midnigie Or Rubens' fire, to warm the kindling page ;
hour; Then like those vivid tints my Song should
An fieecing booms! ere Phæbus darts its rays glow,
Wither'd i..y beauty, and extinct its blaze! And THORNTON's praise in noblest num
Nos so yon i've, on whose to'v'ring head bers flow;
An hundre: years their fost'ring dews have Fervent as his should roll the breathing line,
shet; The radiant colouring, and the rich design.
Not so the Glories that these leaves illume, Froin orient regions where the tropic ray lidosc spiendid tints for centuries shall Lights beauty's beams, aud pours the glowing
Fain would the MUSE each beautepus Plant To where th' eternal snows of winter spread,
rehearse, And ice-clad mountains rear their lorty head,
And sing their glories in immortal verse; Tby daring hand hath cuild the loveliest
But who shall paint thein with a pow'r like flow'rs
tbine, To deck delighted Albion's happier bow'rs; On each proud page in varied radiance bright, So lovely in their form, so brighit their hue,
'Tis in thy page those glories brightest shine! The Muse exalting feasts her raptur'd sight; And in such dazzling groups they charm tbe For ever fresh those flow'rs; for ever fair!
view! The rage of Envy and of Time shall dare.
The Muse astonish'd drops her feeble lyre, Around thy couch their branching cendrils
And battled Art gives way to Nature's fire; wave,
That fire is thinein every leaf it burns, And cast their fragrant shadows o'er tly. And imitacion's noblest efforts spurns. grave.
The mighty Work complete, through ALBIBeneath the Pleiads, taught by ther to
ON's bounds bloom,
Thy name is echoed, and thy fame resounds; While Fancy fondly drinks their rich per- Exulting Science weaves the deathless bays, fume,
And rival Monarchs swell the note of Praisa A second PARADISE our senses greets,
MAURICE, And Asia wafts us all her world of sweets. ToThornton loudly strike th' applausive
string, 'Mid desert wastes who bids an Eden spring,
ADDRESS TO A ROBIN, On canvass bids the glowing landscape rise,
On hearing it sing, October 30, 1805, Each plane fair blooming 'mid its native skies; Whether dark clouds the angry heav'ns deform
ROBIN, thy soft autumnal song Where round the Cape loud howls th’inces
How grateful to mine err!
Domestic bird, 'tis kind of thec sant storm ; Or Genius waving high her magic wand,
To cheer with rural minstrelsy Bids all Arabia's purple blooms expand;
The dull declining year.
To hail the blushing dawn.
Why, rosy-breasted minstrel, why Where the bright Lotos basks in floods of day; Alas! thou know'st not winter drear
Actune the merry strain? Or pensive wander by Columbian streams,
In snowy vest will soon ape,
With all his ruetul train.
The thought would marihy present jy, And crests that blaze with azure and with Mix with thy bliss a base alloy, gold:
And cloud chy cheerful day.
Oft fretful man with sad presage
Into the future pries: () would he anxious fears dismiss, And learn · Where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.'
JOHN WEBB. Haverbill, Nov. 4, 1806.
ADDRESS TO A BUTTERFLY. HAIL, loveliest of the insect tribe!
How beauteous to behold! Thy glitt'ring pinions charm mine eyes, Starr'd with bright beauty's brilliant dies,
And edg'd with beany gold.
In summer's frolic hour;
And gad from flower to flower.
Far from my garden stray, Lest my Horatio should espy Thy gilded form with wishful eye,
And mark thee for his prey. Gay insect, still pursue thy sport,
Be every gambol play'd; For Eurus soon, with frigid mien, Will sweep thee from the sunbright scenę
To dark oblivion's shade. Thus idly vain the gaudy fop
Consumes life's golden space; Thoughtless he hastes from fair to fair, Till Death approach, with brow austere,
And ends his useless race. Haverbill.
I mark'd the faint roses her features forsaking, And convulsively caught at her bosom
Jast sigh; I mournfully view'd, with a sorrow heart
breaking, The last spark of lustre that beam'd in her
eye. O'er her pale trembling lips while with wild
horror stooping, To catch, thought distracting ! my Ellen's
last breath, She smil'd-then alas! like a fair lily droop
ing, Serenely she sunk on the bosom of death. Burst, burst beating heart,--for tranquillity Shall cheer thy sad cell, or its throbbings
reprove : O why was affliction sermitted to sever Such souls, and to rob me of Ellen and
love! When the dark gloomy shadows of eve are
descending, Each night to her cold silent urn I'll repair; While the winds that howl round me, my sad
ness befriending, May kindly re-echo these notes of despair. There there on her grass-cover'd grave will
I languish, 'Till death a repose to my sorrows be
given; Then the heart that now futters, forgetting
its anguish, Shall fly to the arms of my Ellen in heaven. Nov. 11, 1906.
LINES Afournfully inscribed to the Memory of Miss
E. M. C. WHAT happiness once did the moments
soft pleasures Each day as they pass'd to my bosom im
part; I smil'd as I gaz'd on the world and its trea
sures, For it held all I valued--the girl of my
to bis injant Son, while sleeping.
(FROM THE FRENCI.) SLEEP, sleep in peace, seraphic boy,
Thou tender pledge of love sincere!
And now their only solace here!
Ierer down thy cherub face,
Pleas'd have I oft our little babe cafess'd,
And view'd him smiling at his mother's
Sieet infant!-cause of many a painful tes,
And dry thy tears in her caresses: Can we forget thy fond endearing look, Thy little heart may ev'ry ill deride Or what in play thy tender fingers took? When to her bosom clasp’d, or cradled by her
O no! each thing reminds us now with pain; side.
Our darling's gone, and all our hopes are yain.
No more each parent sees thy sportive ways;
No more, alas! thy little toys can please;
All, all on earth does our poor infant leave
Consign’d is Peter to the silent grave! Thy country's miseries bewail:
But yet, dear boy, quith innocence shall rise
Thy infant spirit to its rative skies.
Oct. 3, isoo.
EDWY. Thy infant memory, to bla:
The sweetness of any dawning mind; No dread of future storms thy breast an
DESCRIPTION OF A GOOD WIFE, nys, Or with envenom'd sting its happiness de
From Proverbs, ch.31, v. 10. stroys.
MORE precious far than rubies, who can Sleep, smiling innocence ! secure;
find May Heav'n's sustaining arm be near,
A wife embellished with a virtuous mind? And aid thee calmly to endure
The evils which await thee here! In her securely, as his better part, O may thy heart a conscious peace acquire,
Her happy husband cheerful rests his heart.
With such a lovely partner of his toil
His goods increase without the need of spoil.
Well pleas'd she labours, nar disdains to cuii
Rich as the merchant's ships that crowd the
strands, WHEN first, sweet girl! you touch'd the
She reaps the harvest of remotest lands. trembling string,
Early she rises, ere bright Phæbuis shines, I heard with rapture the harmonious lay;
And to her damsels sep'rate tasks assigns. But when you join'd your gentle voice to sing, Refresh'd with food, her hinds reneir their Enchanted quite, my soul dissolv'd away.
toil, Who could such harmony unmoved hear? And cheerful haste to cultivate the soil.
The force divine of such melodious strains If to her farm some field contiguous lies, Would banish grief, suppress the starting rear,
With care she views it, and with prudence And sweetly charm away the fiercest pains.
And with the gains which Heaven to wisdora Ten thousand beauties p'ay upon your cheeks,
grants, Your lovely eyes dart forth seraphic tire;
A vineyard of delicious grapes she plants While each kind glance, more sweet than
Inur'd to toiis, she strength and sweetness tongue can speak,
joinsFills ev'ry bosom with a soft desire.
Strength is the graceful girdle of her loins. How in sweet slav'ry could I spend my days With joy her goodly merchandise she views, With you, my soul's ador'd! and when I And otë till morn her pleasing work pursues. prove
The swindle twirls obedient to her tread;
She feeds the hungry and relieves the poor.
Nor frost nor show her family molest,
For all her household are in scarler dress'd:
Resplendent robes are by her husband worn. To the Memory of the infant Son of Mr.
Her limbs tine purple and rich silks adorn. EATON, apothecary and surgeon-dentist, late
For wisdom fam'd, for probity renown'd, of Highgai.
She sits in council with bright honour crown'd. WHAT trouble does this chequer'd life To weave rich girdles is her softer care, prepare!
Which merchants buy, and mighty monarchs A child is gone, each parent's tender care.