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the Cenate to thank chofe who had voted for him, said to one of chem, noted for having a remarkable ugly countenance, « Sir, I have great reason to be thankful to my friends in g. neral, but I confess myself under a particular obligation to you for the very remarkable countenance you have thewa me on this occasion.”

Answer, by J. Whitcombe, to his own Question, inferte:

.. . January. Qua : ;. REFORE I give the folution, it is necessary to point

out the error made in the composition of the question, viz. in not mentioning that the leffer segment of the bale lould be nearest the perpendicular, which being ada mitted, the answer will be as follows :

: CONSTRUCTION.

• DRAW AC the
given base, which di-
vide at B in the given --
ratio : then, on AB
the greater segment,
-10 chains, describe
(per Simpson's Geo: i protest
metry V. 22.) a seg-

А
в

с ment of a circle which will contain an angle equal to the given one = 10 16° 12', and from E, the centre thereof, let fall the EG, and at Cere&t CD I to AC, and from where it meeets the periphery of the circle produced as at D ;' daw DA and DB, then will DAC be the required triangle. ..more

CALCULATION. · Draw EA, EB, and ED, which evidently will be all equal, as being radius of the same circle ; allo draw aD # 19 AC; then in the isosceles. A AEB there is given Ab = 10 chains, and the 4 AEB = twice the given one 32° 24', to find EA = EB = 17,9216 + and EG =

S2

17,21.

17,21. Then on the A EaD there is given ED = 17,9216, and aD = 9 chains, to find a E = 15,5 nearly. Then EG - E = G = DC = 1,71 chains nearly,

and ưBC? + DC? = BD, the length of the walk, = 4,35 + chains, from whence the areas may easily be determined.

Answer, by Robert Hafel, of Bristol, to W. Gale's Question,

inserted January 6. . ::: SUPPOSE 12 his years, half is 6 X 22 = 132 + 16

= 148 – 4 = 144 square root, of which 12 is his

age.

*** We have received the like answer from Joseph Gritton, of Dorchester ; W. Kite, of Stockland; John Quant, of Hinton St. George; and Thomas Wilson, of Falmouth.

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AQUESTION, by J. Whitcombe, of Plymouth.

BY a quadratic I fain would know
-D The value of x and y below. *
* Givenx + y + x 4 = 17,375.

y + XX • 4 = 45,5

A QUESTION, by. J. Gritton, of Dorchefter. ONE day last autumn as I was walking in the fields near

Dorchester, I observed a cloud moving towards me, I took the 6 of its altitude 40°, and by observation found the distance of its shadow on the ground (it being in a direction between me and the sun) 95,875 yards, and also the sun's alritude 45. From these daca I demand the height of the cloud.

POETRY,

P 0 E T RY.

A POETICAL EPISTLE by Mr. ISAAC, HAWKINS

BROWNE to HIMSELF, not in his Works,
W E LL, this poetic itch creeps on,

VV Dodley adopts you all his own.
Firft, Phæbe gave the luckless hint;
Now, your epistles flare in print;
This week on every stall they lie ".
Display'd, the next beneath a pie;
Instead of purple and the coif,
Curll prints your works, and writes your life,
If Mævius scribble, 'tis to feed
A bard inspir'd by daring need :
But having wherewithal to dine.
What vengeance damns thee to the nine?
You write to please a task indeed!
Taste differs, just as men who read :
This loves an easy line, and that'
Deems all that is not glaring, Aat.
Some, wit and thought can scarce endure
Swift is too vulgar, Pope obscure ;
Whim, weather, envy, party, fpite, .
Sit heavy on the tribe that write;
Sad lot of authors ! vain your toil !
Away with all your midnight oil !
Your charity to human kind!
Who holds a taper to the blind ?
A poet, wrapt in song sublime,
Suits not our sublunary clime ;
Few are endued with eagle eyes,
To mark his progress through the kieś; .

And

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And when he wings his lofty flight,
He perishes from vulgar fight.

Yet spite of folly or caprice.
---Suppose ('tis but hypothefis)
- Your mule could win her way to praise, -

And Chesterfield approve the lays;
Now sudden wreaths your temples crown,
Proclaim'd a poet-about town,

Thee, toasts admire, and peers carefs ; ;
*Frail and Fallacious happiness!
Peers treat their poets as their whores,
Enjoy, then turn them out of doors ;
For wit (if always in your power)
Is but a cordial for an hour;
Shown like a freth imported apel
Awhile you set the town agape,
Beaux, belles, and captains form a ring,
To see the new facetious thing

shu
This happy minion of the nine,
We wonder when he means to fhine; : ,
Fool! would you prattle, tete'a fete,
With all the fair, and all the great;
Mark whom their favours are bestow'd on,
Cibber, and Heidegger, and Boden.
Poets are arbiters of fame;
True, but who loves or fears a' name? ;
Is it for fame, Sir, - - .
For fame, that - - - =- *
Such hate a poet, or despise ; ..
Their prospect in oblivion lies.
Search far and wide where virtue dwells,
In camps, or colleges, or cells.
Heroes alike, and bards, inftead:.
Of panegyric, figh for bread.
Or call forth all the powers of fable,
Describe a statesman juft and able,
Who, skill'd in play, disdains to pack,
What will you gain ? the butt of fack?
Let Colley sing, in numbers meet,
Our leagues, and wars, and Spithead Neet;
Satire be tbine, a flowery field,
Yet has a serpent oft conceal'd.
A jury finds his words in pript,
But Curlls interpret what is meant,

Grant

Grant it were fafe, not Olham's storm
Of satire could a soul reform.
To curb the time, can poets hope,
Peter buc lneers, though lash'd by Pope.
Woold you from.dice or pox reclaim. in
Brand this or that flagitions name:
What boots it sharpers or intriguers ?
But ak, were Chartres, Oldfield, beggars !
No, born for modern imitation,
Worthies that throve in their vocation. . .
Not e'en thy Horace, happy bard,
Was by the barren muse preferr'd,
While yet a friend to freedom hearty,
Ao honet, but a starving party.
He passed for bat a simple wretch,
And lov'd his boule and a catch :
He deem'd himfelf no very wife man,
Nor aim'd at better than exciseman;
To breeding had such poor pretence,
Most thought he wanted common fenfe.
Nor courtly Athens, though polite.
As Paris, could improve the wightt
Where'er he pass’d, the mob was eager
To laogh at le grotesque a figure.
Yet Horace o'er the sparkling bowl,
I grant, had talents for a droll ;
And hence, though sprung from dunghill carth,
He pleas'd the courtiers with his mirth;
Next wisely ventur'd to renounce
His principles, and rose at once,
Rose from a bankrupt to the sum
Of human happiness--a plomb!
Then drank, and revell’d, and grew big,
Yet still an awkward, dirty pig
Lo! then the people felt his gall,
'Twas “ Sturdy beggars, d-nye all !"
Mindless of others love or spite,
He car'd not, fo he pleas'd the knight'; -
And wrote, and wrote, as was the falhion,
To praise the knight's adminiftration,
Nay once, all worldly zeal so warm is,
He wrote in praise of ftanding armies. o 2
Sach arts. your pazzling Horace grew by ra
Such might have sais'd an arrant booby.

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