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adversary's pieces, and the moves he had made, without once looking at the board himself.

In January 1775, he published the first of those speeches of Lord Chatham's, which are inserted in this volume. Of this speech, the wonderful powers of his memory, together with his having long accus

ted Phillidor, that he frequently played at three games of chess at the same time, without seeing either of the Boards. The following extract relates an account of as useful and retentive memory as either we have mentioned. It is from the life of HUGH BOYD. THE distinguishing qualities of his mind, were memory, clearness, and perspicacity. What he once heard, or read, he never forgot. He could repeat all the passages that he most admired, and these were of course very numerous, in the wri-it, used to say, that Mr. Boyd's retings of Demosthenes and Cicero, port was verbatim as it was spoken: but it is, if possible, still more exof Thucydides and Tacitus, of Bacon, Machiavel, and Montesquieu.traordinary, that after eighteen years

In Poetry, his favorite authors were Homer and Milton, and he could repeat several books of the Iliad,

and of Paradise Lost, from the beginning to the end. The speeches that he had heard in Parliament, or in the courts of law, he always remembered, not only in substance, but in the very form and phrase in which they were spoken. And even in familiar conversation, whatever interested his mind, never again escaped it.

tomed his mind to Lord Chatham's "peculiar elegance of style and sen"timent," enabled him to retain the most perfect recollection; and Lord Temple, and many others who heard

had elapsed, I have heard him repeat the greatest part of it. Mr. Boyd's mode of writing down speeches from memory, was altogether peculiar, and therefore deserves to be recorded. He never took any notes after attending a long debate in Parof the speeches he had heard; but liament, he would sup at a tavern

with some friends, return home at two or three in the morning, go to bed directly, rise about seven, and write down such speeches as he had most admired in the course of the

DRESS.

The strength of his memory, and debate, without once looking at any the clearness of his understand-of the newspaper reports to faciliing were such, that he could make tate his recollection. This is an arithmetical calculations of consideabsolute fact, which many of his rable length and intricacy entirely friends have often witnessed. in his mind; without taking down a single unit, he could in a short space of time multiply nine given figures, by other nine, and give the product; and in the same manner he could, in the course of an hour, resolve any question in the Rule of Three, or in Vulgar Fractions. In playing at his favorite game of chess, he would walk about the room, and while he was conversing with seeming attention on other subjects, dictate the moves to another person, It is a false and dangerous asserfrom being told the situation of histion, that single women at best pass

A DRESS too prudish conceals beauty; a costume too free prostitutes it. A Latin poet observes, I do not like Diana when dressed, nor Cytharena quite naked. One is destitute of voluptuousness; the other has too much.

OLD MAIDS.

their lives in a dull mediocrity, removed indeed from lively griefs, but unacquainted with real enjoyments. Spinsters may be daughters, sisters, aunts and friends, tho' they are not wives and mothers.

CALCULATIONS OF LOVE.

SENSIBILITY

in this age of refinement and egctism, is in the mouth of every one, and scarcely in the heart of any. In novels, rapid successions of events must be introduced to keep awake the languid mind. The most terrific scenes must be invented to kindle the least spark of feeling; and the epithet of intolerable stuff, is attached to the simple tale, that in former times would have drawn tears of sympathy from the eyes of the unlettered reader,

A good character is, like a gamester's money, very difficult to keep; and, when lost, still more difficult

USEFULNESS OF AN OLD WOMAN.

It is needless to address polite readers on the absolute necessity of prudential considerations in marriage. But though the worship of Plutus seems to be the established religion of the age, yet there are a few dissenters remaining who fancy that pure love will supply a good dinner. This rash conclusion is more the effect of ignorance than from any real dereliction of princi- to regain. ple, and proceeds from not knowing the value of money, and not from a Spartan renunciation of the comforts it procures. Suppose some lace-enveloped Lydia Languish, in the height of her paroxysm for poor Ensign Beverly, were compelled to assist the family caterer in the rotine of purchasing daily provisions, she would discover a great many inelegant articles to which she never affixed either value or importance that have operated as a constant drain upon the needful. If she understand the common rudiments of arithmetic let her subtract these essentials from the Ensign's pay and see how much will remain to be "the food of love."

EPIGRAM

ON my return, I found an old woman at a door where she seemed unable to gain admittance. I knocked for her. At last a man put his head out of the window. "Ah! it is this everlasting hag that wakes us: she will never die "

I was shocked at this brutal answer. "Madam," said I, “may I ask the reason of your coming home so late?"

"I have been to take care of a sick person; but, as I have already sat up too nights, they are afraid I shall fall asleep, and have sent me away." "They should have let you sleep at the house that employed you." "I feared lest I should be troublesome. At my chan-age, Sir, we are not sufferable but in cases of the most urgent necessity; yet there is no tenderness but in women, there is no attention but in old women. The young ones are constantly occupied in taking care of themselves. As for me, I divide myself into four parts when I am nursing one that is sick I have an

On a dissatisfied man..
STILL restless, still chopping and
ging about;
Still enlarging, rebuilding and making

a rout;

Little Timothy outre as it may appear,
Builds up and pulls down again ten

times a year:
With this altering rage, poor dissatis-
fied elf,
What a pity it is he dont alter himself.

THE EMERALD.

down, make me become pale, and even indisposed.

"A sick person never constrains himself with an old woman."

eye to every thing. I do not fear that the dreadful pangs of approaching want of sleep will weigh my eye-lids dissolution. Young, she is beautiful; old, she is good: one grateful word over-pays her. Old women are fit for a number of things which young ones are incapable of performing, either from ignorance, or because they will not take the trouble. An old woman is never tired of any thing. I am old, Sir, and I know my value in society.

I

I felt that this woman knew exceedingly well the utility of her age. Still the door was unopened. knocked again, but no answer was made. At this moment a man arrived from the house that the old woman had quitted. "Ah, Mrs. Thompson, are you here yet!" cried he: "your patient wants you again; he will have none but you; I beg you will return." The good old woman returned. I saw that she was not destitute of information; she was highly pleased that the sick person had sent for her again. I went with her, in order to have little further talk on the subject.

a

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

Our poetical department is enriched with the favor of a valuable correspondent. We admire his protean tal

ents, and shall receive his communica tions with pleasure.

EMILIUS has thrown his arrow at a

noisy tribe. If he gets the company of Babblers on him, it would be better he were in Babel.

THE THEATRE will be opened on Monday evening. We shall keep an eye on the stage, and are promised much valuable assistance in swewing

....... the very body of the times Its form and pressure,

In pursuing the same system the last year, we unexpectedly gave offence to the whole empire of the theatre, and armed against ourselves both the monarch and his people. Under its present establishment, with two or three heads, like the Lacedemonian Republic, we shall be in danger of injury if we should unfortunately be suspected of using "paper bullets of the brain."

"Women," said she to me," are men's nurses. I heard it once told to an old officer, whom I'nursed during sickness, that after the battle of Rosbach, the general, who had many wounded soldiers, and few people to take care of them, determined to to make nurses of all the loose females that follow the army, and told them that they would do well to behave properly. Well, Sir, the greatest part of them became steady, industrious, and attentive; they took care of the soldiers as if they We anticipate again some difficulties had been their children, and saved of this sort, as we know the tender nature of that pride which is inspired by three parts of them: A woman is a consciousness or a fancy of talents.-often praised, but never sufficiently While our remarks however, are foundvalued. When a man sees a wo-ed in truth and dictated by candor we man, what ought he to see in her ? shall pay little attention to individual His nurse, his guardian, his mis- capriciousness, anxious only to repay the liberality of our patrons with cortress, his wife, his unceasing friend, rect observations on the interesting subhis comforter in sickness; the be-jects of the drama. ing that gives him his first life, that The Editors respectfully request the affords him his first food, that is the loan of all rare publications and new creator or promoter of every pleas-works of merit-They promise to use ure he enjoys during his life, and them carefully and return them within whose tender attention can alleviate any limited time.

POETRY.

FOR THE EMERALD.

To *****

An imitation of Secundus.
THE urchin Love had drawn his bow,
In act, my girl, to pierce thee thro',
But when he saw that brow so fair,
Those flowing locks of auburn hair,
Those eyes quick glancing, mild, yet
bright,

Beaming forth their liquid light;
And that breast, where joy reposes
Between two little hills.of roses;
All enchanted with thy charms,
He threw away his useless dart,
Flew in transport to thy arms,
And sunk enraptur'd on thy heart,
Gave thee kisses o'er and o'er,
Choicest kisses of his store,
Gave thee too, each winning grace,
Of form, of feature, and of face,
That, all lovely you might prove
The unconquerable power of love.
And ah! he swore by every God,
Swore by his mothers myrtle rod,
That your bosom should remain
Free from love's delicious pain...
Can we wonder then, thy kiss
Thrills with such delicious bliss!
Can we wonder that you prove
Averse to lovers and to love?

For the Emerald.

THE SPORT OF VENUS.

From the Latin.

ONCE, Venus designing some source of bliss,

X.

new

Invented, with frolicksome hand, the sweet kiss ;

Temper's juice of ambrosia, with magical art,

Then with nectar infus'd, bedew'd every part;

Then adds part of that honey, which Love by deceit

Once robb'd the poor bees of, tho' stung for the feat;

Then the fragrance of violets, carefully chose,

And full many a spoil, from the summer's fair rose.

These make up the kiss, all so sweetly combin'd,

And that kiss on the lips of my Cloe you'll find.

X.

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Selected for the Emerald.

[THE SUBMLIMITY OF THE SACRED WRITINGS defies imitation or paraphrase. They have a simplicity, a grandeur, an eloquence, peculiarly their own, and seem to contain, by their singu larly admirable style, internal evidence of inspiration. The bold and important truths they disclose, unincumbered with lofty sounds or superfluous epithets, come with full force to the heart, while every circumstance is enumerated that can allure, council or intimidate.

From these circumstances alteration speakens, and even the thoughts, accompanied by the harmony of verse, a generally less impressive than when arrated with the simplicity of cepiration Book of Job, as it is on of the most impresive histories the Bible, and of such poetical cast by some to be deemed a moral allegory, has been the subject of frequent version, and the attempt has been repeatedly made, to determine whether the language of poetry or sacred writ was better suited to inAspire the variety of emotions which this story creates. Without meaning to insinuate a preference, we offer the following version of the 28th Chapter, as one of the best that has ever appeared; and we speak of it in no common terms of approbation. It is at once bold, beautiful and sublime; and while it displays the tremendous power of the Almighty, obliges us forcibly to realize the truth. that no one can

"Stand the substitute of Providence." We feel confident it will be often adve: ted

to, and perused with pleasure by juditious and intelligent minds, and are happy to preserve it in the Emerld. It would be difficult to select the beauties of a production in which every line is poetry. Yet our readers will feel the electric force of many peculiar expressions, and the happy adaptation of epithets and the style of lofty interrogation has a force and dignity suited to the subject. We acknowledge it is long, but we sincerely wish there was more of it; and we have chosen to present it entire rather than break the connection. It is a treat for the lover of poetry which he cannot always procure, and a recompence for any time or labor that shall be bestowed in its perusal. Though selecte l it is rare, and we believe will now for the first time meet the eye of our readers.....Emer. Ed'rs.

The XXVIIIth Chapter of JOB, paraphrased.

WITH quick vibrations of ætherial flame,

The voice divine from forth the whirlwind came.

t

The skies in undulation shook around, And Jon and nature trembled at the sound.

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With wings the breeze, with balm the dew supplies?

did the music of according spheres, Or shouts of angels, ever reach thy ears? Who fix'd the barriers of the lawless main,

Where foaming to the beach it roars in vain ?

Obsequious to their God the waters stand,

Heap'd on themselves, high o'er the threaten'd land :

Billows the voice omnipotent obey'd, Thus far, ye seas-here your proud waves bestay'd.

Didst thou appoint the day spring to be born,

Or pour out genial light on infant morn? Didst thou mark where the golden sun should rise,

Or teach the dawn to paint the orient skies?

Who feeds the blaze of unexhausted day, [away? That drives detected guilt confus'd Gav'st thou the wave o'er peopled wastes to flow,

Or hast thou search'd the chrystal depths below?

There hast thou seen my wond'rous strata spread,

Or billows gurgling from their oozy bed, Know'st thou how new born winds their pinions try,

Or

where, inchain'd the slumb'ring tempests lye?

Say, when didst thou substantial night behold,

Or see the gate to death's drear courts unfold?

Did e'er thy eyes his gloomy reign invade,

Or hast thou walk'd in his tremendous shade;

Where ghastly forms in pompous horrors wait,

And howling woes support the dreadful state?

Declare, to thee are earth's dimensions known,

Who o'er the measur'd globe has The mighty axis, and the burning zone?

stretch'd the line,

Or steer'd the sun thro' each illustrious sign?

Who laid the corner stone, what potent hand?.

Or say, where plac'd, earth's stable columns stand?

Who, when the morning stars in consort rise,

Know'st thou the region of immortal day,

Where dazzling beams in sportive glo

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ries play? Know'st thou the cave where gloomy vapours dwell;

Or genuine night's inhospitable cell? Art thou indeed by deep experience

sage,

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