While forth the milk of human kindness flow'd, An healing stream, warm from his inmost heart !


While Content my path illumes,
Far hence, Ambition, stretch thy plumes !

Hence lucre's base defire! he cries:
But thou conversing with the skies,
In robes of white unblemish'd faith, appear :

Let angel Piety be near!
And on Monæda's rugged land

Let Charity complacent stand,
Essential grace of heavenly birth,
Pattern of Godlike worth on earth,
Her many-colour'd wing unfold,
The shivering pilgrim rescue from the cold,

Bid Hunger feed, and modest Want be bold !
Oh! teach me thụs to imitate the plan
Of Deity himself transform'd to man!

Nor vain his prayer :-For, from their bright abode,

Cherubic Piety appear'd,
And spotless-cinctur'd Faith her forehead rear'd,
And loveliest Charity before him stood :
They came, and on Monæda's sea-beat shore,

Want of its sting beguild,

While pining Hunger † (mild,
The Chriftian graces throng'd his dome around,

Benevolence her liberal zone unbound,
And open'd wide, to all, his hospitable door.

By thee, O Wilson, check'd, impell’d, refin'd,
Was form'd young Stanley's I generous mind;

Thy fostering hand the noble youth

Conducted thro' the paths of truth,
To virtue's towering height,
(Whence beams her radiant light)

* Ptolemy calls the Ile of Man Monoda, quafi Mona Remota, to distinguish it from Mona, Anglesey.

+ The Bishop appropriated half his income for the use of the poor of the Isle of Man, feeding and cloathing all the poor of the iland, though his whole income never exceeded five hundred pounds a year.

# The Rev. Thomas Wilson, while curate of Winnick, was tutor to Lord Strange, son of the Earl of Derby, , a very promising young nobleman, who died at Lilbon while on his travels, in the twenty-first year of his age..


Tutor'd by thee, to climb the arduous steeps of fame

His bofom caught the kindred flame;
By thee, with noblest fentiments infpir'd,

By thee, with patriot emulation fir'd,
With talents that a sinking state might fave;

But to its fatal aim, how true !

Unseen the mortal arrow flew,
And sunk the work of wisdom to an early 'graves

Why fainter glow's poetic fire ?
Why jars with diffonance the lyre?

I see the blum of shame arise,
Upon the ethereal muse's cheek;
From holy truth's indignant eyes
I see the flash of


Where were ye, powers angelic ! fay
Where from your facred office did

When Oppreffion's iron rod #
Dar'd to affiet the man of God?
If pure Religion's felt muft feel
The rack of Perfecution's wheel,

If-woe and sufferings be her dower,
Who shall escape the giant hand of Power ?

Or say, bright effences above ?
is such the hard condition of our birth?

Thus do ye try the faints on earth,
Thus with Affliction's touchstone Virtue proves
That from her fiery trial she may brighter thinë,

Exalting human nature to divine.

ye stray?

So Wilson flione. The mifts of dark disgrace
Rais'd'envious to o'er hade his face,
Flew, like some night-born vapour's floating streamg

Before the solar warmth, and Itrong meridian beam. * For his ftrenuous exertions in favour of church discipline, the Bifhop was fined by an arbitrary governor, himself in gol. and his two Vicars-General in 20l. each ; on refufing to pay this fine they were fent to the prison of Castle Rufhin, where they were confined two months, till they appealed to King George the First, and his Council, by whose fentence they were honourably acquitted.

N. B. A Vicar-General, in the Isle of Man, is an office fimilar to a Bishop's Chancellor in England.

The whole of this transaction, the author is informed, will be related in his Life, to be prefixed to his Works, now printing by fubscription, in two Vols. 4to.


Mazy, but just, are all the ways of heaven !
Tho' often merit seems to shrink aghaft,

Expos'd to Fate's tempestuous blast;

Yet on its head, e'en in this world below,
From heaven's high King superior blessings flow.

To thee, pure subject of my fong! were given
His choiceft favours: thine were length of years,
Each joy which felf-applauding conscience bears;
Reflection's golden-imag'd train,

Which banish every mental pain,
While in pity to frail man,

By thy example taught, and precepts fage,
To thee was stretch'd life's narrow span,

Protracted to a Patriarch's age.
At placid eve, e'en like the gently setting fun,
Tby finish'd course of earthly pilgrimage was run ;

When like a ripen'd sheaf of corn,
Mature in heavenly works, thou to thy grave was borne;

Deftin'd completion of thy birth,

Thy mortal part mix'd with its parent earth,
Tho' dead the man, no death the saint shall find,
But in the living page inspire mankind :

Celestial truth shall from his alhes rise,
On Jeffe's facred branch aspiring to the skies."

Emma Corbett; or, The Miseries of Civil War. Founded on

fome recent Circumstances which happened in America. By the Author of the Pupil of Pleasure, Liberal Opinions, Shenstone Green, &c. &c. In 3 vols. 12mo. Price 7s. 6d. Baldwin.

* To touch the soul by tender strokes of art,

• To raise the genius and to mend the heart,' Are, faith Mr. Pope, the motives which first urged the tragic muse to tread the stage. But, surely these motives do not more warmly urge the muse of the theatre, than that pathetic muse of narration who, with less pomp and equal pathos, raises the genius and mends the heart in the closet. The language of the first indeed hath every advantage which can be derived from fcenic decorations, and from oral delivery : the aids of which united, are frequently fufficient to hide a thousand blemishes, no less than to set off a variety of beauties. On the other hand, as the muse of narration

* The Bishop died at the age of ninety-three.


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depends more on the charms of silent eloquence, and hath not one extrinsic ornament to illumine the dead lettered page, (which without any dazzling, is submitted to the reader) her task is proportionably difficult. So too is her honour more diftinguished, when she is, by the force of natural fenfibility, tender strokes of art,' which the poet speaks of, able to surmount obstructions, and vie with a rival trick'd off in all the allurements of the drama. The tragic muse adorned in her paraphernalia, resembles some mighty Sultana, dressed forth for public spectacle, with every feature taught to attract, and

every motion disciplined to seduce. The muse of narration is like some more humble fair, who is, literally,

" When unadorn'd, adorn'd the most.' Clad in the native robes of truth and simplicity, her beft attire,' she appeals unoftentatiously to the human heart. No public triumphs, no obftreperous shouts belong to her, One tear shed in PRIVATE is, she thinks, of more value than them all. She flies from the loud huzzas' of the mob; The shrinks from the acclamations of an audience, and takes refuge unheard and unseen, in many a tender bolom : that is her proper mansion, and from thence she breathes the eloquence, which, though not vociferous, is sweet, and though not vain, is victorious,

We are led into these remarks by a perusal of the performance, which is the subject of the present article. It is beyond all lines of comparison the chef-d'ouvre of the ingenioys writer; and we assert this, without detracting in any degree, from the merits of his former compositions, or recanting a single syllable that hath, either by us, or others, been said in their favour. But we shall not close so decisively, without more explicit reasons given for, our commendation. To be ingenuous then, we prefer this to every prior effort of our author, not only as it is, abundantly, a more affecting, but as it is a more amiable producțion ;' it will have the merit of making the finest passions, depictured in their utmost force, move at the command of virtue :' love does not here appear as a wanton but as a cherub. The intrigue of the novelift is wholly rejected; it is nature which here speaks to to our senses; it is truth which here dictates to pity, and is heard.

The actual, tho' extraordinary, fa£ls which serve as a foun. dation to this superstructure, do indeed, as the author observes, faften so strongly on the human feelings, that a heart must be very obdurate not to be penetrated. To anticipate the incidents of the piece, by relating them in abridgement, would not be very acceptable : for we could not do it without lessening the force of those interesting surprises, and affecting turns of sentiment and adventure; which, gradually unfold themselves in the progress of the work : and yet; as some sort of analysis is; officially, expected of us; the public purveyors of literary entertainment, it may



proper to luggest that, the History of Emma Corbett is built upon real and recent circumstances.

The fate and fortunes of Mrs. Ross, form the basis of this beautiful fabric, than which nothing was ever more fortunate, or more feasonable. Fortunate, because Otway him. self exhibits nothing more truly tender, and seafoniable; because the common calamity of the times gives to the political traits which are blended with the pathetic, of the characters, a most remarkable propriety.--It is, in truth, not without admiration we observe the address with which the author hath interwoven all the circumstances of our national miseries, with the tenderest incidents and deareft interests of private families, fuffering under those miseries.

The press hath, for several years, echoed the groans of the nation; and, under every form of publication, teemed with works on the civil broils which fubfift between us and our colonies. The pro, and con, have been agitated with redoubled, and, alas, with unavailing opposition on both fides. But parties collect and diffolve rage, and are silent without regard : and we read of the general ravages of war, confidered merely as an affair of state, with little or no emotion. If we are inderd to feel, and to be made sensible of our dan.: gers or our distresses, they must both be brought home to us : they must be displayed, with all their horrors, as they tear up the tendernesses, and dismember the comforts and supports of private life : they must shew the domestic anguish of lacerated relations, and of the house 'set against itself,' as well as draw the portrait of that æra when

“ The fons against the fathers stood,

And parents Thed their children's blood." This task then was reserved for the author of the volumes before us. - It is not often that an oppor sunity offers of effecting this. An age' might elapse and furnish nothing so auspicious or so suitable as the present instance ; and the author was determined not to let it elude an attention, which, indeed, appears to be unremittingly fixed on, the happiest incidents living as they rise,' for, as in morals, the Earl of Chesterfield's Letters had been the butt of general and precepe tual criticism, till the world was tired of such kind of cenVol. XI. M m


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