controverfial performances. I have often wifhed, and wish it now more than ever, that you were in parliament, where, in my opinion, your coolness, gravity, and impartiality, would greatly contribute to calm if not to cure those animofities. Virgil feems prophetically to have pointed at you, in his defcription of a perfon qualified to footh and moderate popular tumults. Thefe are the lines, which will perhaps be more intelligent to us both in Dryden's tranflation, than in the original: If then fome grave and pious man appear, They hush their noise, and lend a listening ear; He fooths with fober words their angry mood, And quenches their innate defire of blood I am not very fuperftitious; but I am perfuaded that, if you were to try the Sortes Virgiliana, you would open the book at the very place. That incomparable and religious prince, king Charles the first, confulted them with great faith, and to his great informa tion. There is one thing which I would rather know, than all the contending parties in Ireland fay or write. against each other, and that is, your real fentiments upon the whole; but all that I know of them is, that I shall never know them; fuch is your candour, and fuch is your caution. The celebrated Atticus feems to have been your prototype. He kept well with all parties, fo do you; he was trufted and confulted by individuals on all fides, fo are you; he wrote fome hiftories, fo have you; he was the most eminent bookfeller of the age he lived in, fo are you; and he died immensely rich, and fo will you. It is true he was a knight, and you are not, but that you know, is your own fault; and he was an epicurean, and you are a ftoic. For the next feven weeks, pray direct your pacquets to me at Bath, where I am going next week, as deaf as ever your friend the dean was, and full as much, though not fo profitably, Your friend and fervant, Pray make my compliments to your friend Mr. Bristow, when fee him. you London, Jan. 4, 1763. MANY thanks to you for your letter, many thanks to you for your almanack, and more thanks to you for your friend Swift's Works, in which laft, to borrow an expreffion of Cibber's, you have outdone your ufual outdoings; for the paper is whitish, and the ink is black My worthy Friend, h. I only wish that the margin had been a little broader; howeyer, without flattery, it beats Elziver, Aldus, Vafcofan, and I make no doubt but that, in feven or eight hundred years, the learned and the curious in thofe times, will, like the learned and curious in thefe, who prefer the impreffion of a book to the matter of it, collect with pains and expence all the books that were published ex Ty. pographia Faulkneriana.—But I am impatient to congratulate youupon your late triumph; you have made (if you will forgive a quibble upon fo ferious a fubject) your enemy your foot-ftool; a victory which the divine Socrates had not 3 influence Influence enough to obtain at An EPITAPH, by Dr. PERCIVAL. Athens over Ariftophanes, nor the great Pompey at Rome, over the actor who had the infolence to abuse him under the name of Magnus, by which he was univerfally known, and to tell him from the Aage, Miferiis noftris Magnus Mag-nus es. A man of lefs philofophy than yourself, would, perhaps, have chaftifed Mr. Foote corporally, and have made him feel that your wooden leg which he mimicked, had an avenging arm to protect it; but you fcorned fo inglorious a victory, and called juftice and the laws of your country to pu nish the criminal, and to avenge your caufe. You triumphed ; and I heartily join my weak voice to the loud acclamations of the good citizens of Dublin upon this occafion. I take it for granted that fome of your many tributary wits have already prefented you with gratulatory poems, odes, &c. upon this fubject: I own I had fome thoughts myself of infcribing a fhort poem to you upon your triumph: but to tell you the truth, when I had writ not above two thousand verses of it, my mufe forfook me, my poetic vein stopped, I threw away my pen, and I burned my poem, to the irreparable lofs not only of the prefent age, but alfo of lateft pofterity. I very seriously and fincerely wish you 2 great many very happy new years, and am Your most faithful friend and fervant, I like your meffenger, young Dunkin, mightily: he is a very fenfible well-behaved young man. To the Memory SYLVIA of A chearful companion; real Philofopher, Obedience to God, Conformity to Nature, and Benevolence to Man; with unaffected indifference to Profit, Power, or Fame, mingled in all companies, her native fimplicity of manners; and was careffed by the profligate, by her good example. was untainted by Bigotry, fhe fteadily maintained PaffiveObedience and Non-refiftance, without becoming a Partizan in Politics. fhe lived; and died a Martyr.* to flatter the Vanity of the for it is erected not to a WOMAN, a SPANIEL.+ *To the apprehenfions of canine madness; fee Dr. Percival's Moral Tales, pag. 62. vol. ii. † A monument, in Lord Temple's gardens at Stowe, fuggefted this infcription. O 2 POETRY. POETRY. ODE for the NEW-YEAR, Written by W. WHITEHEAD, Efq. GAIN imperial Winter's fway A Bids the earth and air obey, Throws o'er yon hoflile lakes his icy bar, Enough of flaughter have ye known, O find another foe! And hear a parent's dear request, 1777. Who longs to clafp you to her yielding breaft. What change would ye require? What form Ye fond enthufiafts, break the charm, And let cool reason clear the mental eye. True liberty has fix'd her throne, Where law, not man, an equal rule maintains: United, let us all thofe bleffings find, The God of nature meant mankind. Let all lie buried in oblivion's flood, ODE ODE for his MAJESTY'S BIRTH-DAY, 1777 D' D Written by W. WHITEHEAD, Esq. RIVEN out from Heav'n's etherial domes, And spreads her baleful influence far: Corroding every blifs, and fharp'ning every care. Nor with thy prefence blaft the light Of that aufpicious day, which Britain gives to joy. But come, thou fofter deity, Not more fair the star that leads Enough of war the penfive Mufe has fung, Than hoftile fields and fcenes of blood; If happier hours are on the wing, Wherefore damp the coming good? If again our tears must flow, Why forestal the future woe? Bright-ey'd Hope, thy pleafing power Every anxious thought beguiles, Dreffes every face in fmiles, Nor lets one tranfient cloud the bliss destroy EPILOGUE to the Tragedy of SEMIRAMIS. Spoken by Mrs. YATES. ISHEVELL'D ftill, like Afia's bleeding Queen, 0 3 No, No, beauteous mourners!-from whofe downcaft eyes-- When gen'ral plaudits fpeak the Fable o'er- O could the Mufe one fimple moral teach! From fcenes like thefe, which all who heard might reach!- Go fearch, where keener woes demand relief, Go-while thy heart yet beats with fancy'd grief; The blefs'd effufion of fictitious woe! PROLOGUE to the WORD TO THE WISE, performed for the Be nefit of Mrs. KELLY and her Children. By Dr. JoHNSON. Spoken by Mr. HULL, THIS a wored Prom the HIS night prefents a play, which public rage, Or right, or wrong, once hooted from the flage. To |