arbiter and disposer of their fate, I will award to them; but for the villain and the adulterer

The perjured and the simular man of virtue—

the proud, the ambitious, and the murderer I shall

"Leave such to heaven

And to those thorns, that in their bosoms lodge

To prick and sting them.—

But soft! I see one coming, that often hath beguiled you of your tears-the fair Ophelia'

"The several parties now make their respective appeals, and Shakspeare finally summons them all before him by his agent Ariel, for whose introduction he prepares the audience by the following soliloquy :

"Now comes the period of my high commission :
All have been heard, and all shall be restor❜d,

All errors blotted out and all obstructions,

Mortality entails, shall be remov'd,

And from the mental eye the film withdrawn,
Which in its corporal union had obscur'd
And clouded the pure virtue of its sight.

But to these purposes I must employ

My ready spirit Ariel, some time minister

To Prospero, and the obsequious slave

Of his enchantments, from whose place preferr'd

He here attends to do me services,

And qualify these beings for Elysium

Hoa! Ariel, approach my dainty spirit!

"(Ariel Enters.)

"All hail, great master, grave Sir, hail! I come

To answer thy best pleasure; be it to fly,

To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride

On the curled clouds-to thy strong bidding task
Ariel and all his qualities-

"Shakspeare.

«Know then, spirit,

Into this grove six shades consign'd to bliss
I've separately remov'd, of each sex three;
Unheard of one another and unseen

There they abide, yet each to each endear'd
By ties of strong affection: not the same
Their several objects, though the effects alike,
But husband, father, lover make the change.

Now though the body's perished, yet are they
Fresh from their sins and bleeding with their wrongs;
Therefore all sense of injury remove,

Heal up their wounded faculties anew,

And pluck affliction's arrow from their hearts;
Refine their passions, for gross sensual love
Let it become a pure and faultless friendship,
Raise and confirm their joys, let them exchange
Their fleeting pleasures for immortal peace:
This done, with speed conduct them each to other
So chang'd, and set the happy choir before me.'

"I have the whole of this puerile production, written in a schoolboy's hand, which by some chance has escaped the general wreck, in which I have lost some records, that I should now be glad to resort to. I am not quite sure that I act fairly by my readers when I give any part of it a place in these memoirs, yet as an instance of the impression, which my mother's lectures had made upon my youthful fancy, and perhaps as a sample of composition indicative of more thought and contrivance, than are commonly to be found in boys at so very early an age, I shall proceed to

transcribe the concluding part of the scene, in which Romeo has his audience, and can truly affirm that the copy is faithful without the alteration or addition of a single word :

"Romeo:

"Oh thou, the great disposer of my fate,

Judge of my actions, patron of my cause,

Tear not asunder such united hearts,

But give me up to love and to my Juliet.

"Shakspeare.

"Unthinking youth, thou dost forget thyself;
Rash inconsiderate boy, must I again

Remind thee of thy fate? What! know'st thou not
The man, whose desperate hand foredoes himself,
Is doom'd to wander on the Stygian shore
A restless shade, forlorn and comfortless,

For a whole age? Nor shall he hope to sooth
The callous ear of Charon, till he win

His passion by repentance and submission
At this my fixt tribunal, else be sure

The wretch shall hourly pace the lazy wharf
To view the beating of the Stygian wave,
And waste his irksome leisure.'

Gracious powers,

"Romeo.

Is this my doom, my torment-? Heaven is here
Where Juliet lives, ana each unworthy thing
Lives here in heaven and may look on her,
But Romeo may not: more validity,
More honourable state, more worship lives
In carrion flies than Romeo; they may seize
On the white wonder of my love's dear hand,
And steal immortal blessings from her lips,
But Romeo may not; He is doom'd to bear
An age's pain and sigh in banishment,

To drag a restless being on the shore

Of gloomy Styx, and weep into the flood,

Till, with his tears made full, the briny stream.'
Shall kiss the most exalted shores of all.

"Shakspeare.

"Now then dost thou repent thy follies past? "Romeo.

"Oh, ask me if I feel my torments present, Then judge if I repent my follies past.

Had I but powers to tell you what I feel,

A tongue to speak my heart's unfeign'd contrition,
Then might I lay the bleeding part before you :
But 'twill not be something I yet would say
To extenuate my crime; I fain would plead
The merit of my love-but I have done-
However hard my sentence, I submit.
My faithless tongue turns traitor to my heart,
And will not utter what it fondly prompts;
A rising gust of passion drowns my voice,
And I'm most dumb when I've most need to sue.

"Shakspeare.

"Arise, young Sir! before my mercy-seat
None kneel in vain; repentance never lost
The cause she pleaded. Mercy is the proof,
The test that marks a character divine;

Were ye like merciful to one another,

"(Kneels.)

The earth would be a heaven and men the gods.
Withdraw awhile; I see thy heart is full;

Grief at a crime committed merits more

Than exultation for a duty done.

"(Romeo withdraws).

"Shakspeare remains and speaks—

"What rage is this, O man, that thou should'st dare

To turn unnatural butcher on thyself,

And thy presumptuous violent hand uplift

Against that fabrick which the Gods have rais'd?

E

Insolent wretch, did that presumptuous hand
Temper thy wond'rous frame? Did that bold spirit
Inspire the quicken'd clay with living breath?
Do not deceive thyself. Have the kind Gods
Lent their own goodly image to thy use
For thee to break at pleasure?—

What are thy merits? Where is thy dominion?
If thou aspir'st to rule, rule thy desires.
Thou poorly turn'st upon thy helpless body,
And hast no heart to check thy growing sins:
Thou gain'st a mighty victory o'er thy life,
But art enslaved to thy basest passions,
And bowest to the anarchy within thee.

Oh! have a care

Lest at thy great account thou should'st be found
A thriftless steward of thy master's substance.

'Tis his to take away, or sink at will,
Thou but the tenant to a greater lord,

Nor maker, nor the monarch of thyself." "

There are some good lines in this juvenile effusion; and though it cannot rank with Pope's "Ode to Solitude," nor with some of the early compositions of Milton and Cowley, it at least deserves praise for harmony of versification and correctness of ideas.

Shortly after this, he was removed to Westminster School, as his old master Kinsman intimated his intention of retiring from a station the duties of which became too laborious for his increasing age and infirmities. He passed his examination before the master, (Dr. Nichols) in a manner highly reputable to himself, and to his late instructor; and he was admitted accordingly. Here, among his associates, were the Earl of