imperfect a state, that I hesitated much as to printing it; but I think it will be interesting to those who loved him, and even afford some amusement to others. The Poetry comes next; of which the first six or eight pieces, being the works of a Boy or Youth, will need no other apology; they shew what he then was. In the lines, p. 2, she to whom they are addressed, earnestly entreated me to omit two stanzas; but to this I could not agree. Great allowance will of course be made for the ardent affection of a Son, and the strong language of a youthful poet; and with such deductions, forty years intimate acquaintance authorizes me to assert that the character is correct. Abradates and Panthea was written for the golden medal at Winchester College, and was by many thought certain of success. Its failure is alluded to in the letters, and was conducive to his future excellence. In Eliza's Urn, in the character of Calista (p. 313), and in some letters in the beginning of the year 1811, he alludes to a Sister who was most dear to him, and to all who knew her. One of these, (himself no mean judge of human nature), said of her," A purer Spirit never inhabited a female form." "Ye that e'er lost an angel, pity me." Misled by the internal evidence, I have given a wrong title to the lines in p. 43. From a letter of his, it appears, that they were not appropriated to any particular person. As specimens of his skill in criticism, and of his depth of thought and variety of learning, the remarks on Mr. D. Stewart's Essays are given entire ; with large extracts from his Review of the Tableau de la Litterature pendant le dix-huitieme Siècle. The Theological Tracts will speak for themselves. Had I thought they needed an apology, they would not have appeared here. That every sentiment and expression is correct and clear, I will not take upon me to assert; but my judgment misleads me greatly if the fundamental doctrines of Christianity are not therein ably illustrated, and eloquently inforced. That on Humility is unfinished. Others were intended to follow, but The Letters having been written for those only to whom they were addressed, it was difficult to extract such parts, as could with propriety be printed; yet some of them seemed too good to be omitted, and others, it is hoped, will give pleasure to those partial Friends, to whom they are now offered, as well as his other Works, with an humble hope and fervent prayer, that his example and precepts may "turn many to righteousness." J. B. THE JOURNAL. My dear Father, On board the Apollo, Thursday, My Journal begins on the fourth day from the time of coming on board, so I must go back a little, that I may begin from the beginning; begging you by anticipation to excuse all the bad writing and worse composition which may be expected from an inválid, recounting his little adventures amidst noise, and inconvenience, and növelty. Of the parting at Widley, I will not say much. It was very trying; for the Lins had been most unwearied in their kindness, and leaving Widley, was leaving England, and with it all that is dear to me. We put off on Monday 29th October from the Sally-port, in a little boat, and got. to the Camilla, which soon brought us to Spithead, where the Apollo was lying. The day was very fine, and every thing favourable. Happily for us, Captain Taylor came on board just as we were lying alongside, so every thing was quickly arranged; our luggage got safely in, and we seated in the captain's cabin, which is elegantly fitted up, and was then delightfully warm, the sun having lain upon it for some time. This was about one o'clock. Some trea sure was expected on board, which arrived soon afterwards; and we began to unmoor. Soon after sun-set we weighed anchor; but it was now become bitterly cold, and I began to feel the severities of a sea life; for the cabin has neither fire nor stove, the wind was northerly, and the stern of course turned away from the sun. Captain T was very civil and obliging, but the day was of course a busy one, and he could pay little attention to us. At last, about seven o'clock, dinner was announced. This was served up in an apartment immediately adjoining the cabin, which is lighted principally from the deck. It is about the same size as, or somewhat larger, than the cabin but not fitted up, except that there are chairs and tables. About one third of it is parted off by a slight screen, and there my Uncle's cot and mine are hung. The captain sleeps in the other part, which serves also as the room for dinner, breakfast, &c. So we dined; and in the evening drank coffee, and went to bed. But the cold, the noise, the rolling of the ship, &c. made it impossible for me to sleep, and a dreary night it was; the weather was rather squally, the sea rough, and the tumult of hoisting and lowering the sails, as circumstances made necessary, ceaseless. In the morning I found myself (as might be expected) fatigued and disposed to sickness. My Uncle too (though he had slept well enough) felt the swinging of the ship. However, we got up, and managed to get our cloathes on, and mounted upon deck. In spite of an adverse breeze that obliged us to tack during the night, we had run so far down Channel, that the Isle of Wight was out of sight. Over the lee beam (to use the new lingo that I hear) the white cliffs of Dorsetshire were visible, and if I had been possessed of strength and spirits to enjoy it, |