fervant put into her hands a letter, which being known by the fuperfcription to be from Mr Maxwell, the immediately delivered it to Mrs Ingoldfby, who, to the atter aftonishment of both her auditors, read aloud the contents of it as follows:

MADAM,

THAT your heart is not at all interefted in the intended event, you have with that candour, which renders your char acter the object of univerfal admiration, frequently acknowledged to me; you will not therefore even wish to receive an apology for my releafing you from an unfuitable engagement: but as my heart ftill holds you dear, and your virtues and beauties will ever poffefs my mind with unalterable regard; fo I think it my duty to explain to you the motives by which I am influenced, in a conduct, which however cenfurable it may appear in the public eye, will, I am perfuaded, find a full juftification in your goodness of heart, and in the fenfibility of your worthy relations.

My long loft fon! my son, who I had for years refigned to Heaven, is reftor'd to me; and Providence, which has beflowed on me this confummate of happinefs, will not permit me to add to it a with which concerns myself.

But I have another explanation to make, in which I am to befpeak your forgiveness for an impofition, which how ever innocent with refpect to myfelf, I muft confefs to have been rather improper with regard to you. My real name is not Maxwell, which I affumed upon the supposed death of my fon, when I re

tired from my ufual place of refidènce, in a diftant part of the kingdom, to avoid the importunities of fome worthless and difagreeable relations; and this fecret I entrusted to only one friend in the metropolis, from whom my fon procured directions to his concealed and almoft forgotten father.

It is at the particular inftance of this son, that I take the liberty to inclofe an order on my banker for three thousand pounds, which I intreat you to accept as a fmall tribute of my gratitude, for your intended goodness to him; who, till he has the honour to disclose to you in perfon his real name, begs leave to fubfcribe himfelf, Madam,

Your moft devoted, obliged, and
Obedient fervant,

J. MAXWELL P. S. Let me intreat you to fuffer me to introduce my fon to you in the course of our morning's ride.

Before the three ladies could recover from the furprize which this extraordi nary epiftle had occafioned, the arrival of Mr Maxwell and another gentleman was announced; and as the former entered the room, he prefented his fon to Miranda; who, having uttered the words, 'My Monfon!' fell motionless into the arms of his father.

The conclufion of the ftory is obvious. He who held the welfare of his. fon in higher eftimation than his own happinefs, could have no objection to a match which heaven itself had ordained: and where worth, honour, beauty, virtue, and fortune, are united, happiness muft be the fure, the conftant attendant.

Nature affumes her fmiling form, Like ocean refting from a storm: From diftant India's pearly fhores, From myftic Egypt's latent ftores, Or where in Grecia's tuneful groves The graces wanton'd with the loves, Lo! Science comes, and takes her awful feat,

While Genius glides along, her queen's advance to greet. II. I.

The blooming wreath of rapturous praife,
Now weave with vari'd skill, and con-
fcious pride,

As when, near Pifa's laurell'd fide,
The Theban wove the living bays:

Of brow ferene, and port fublime,
Immortal Science, hail! To thee,
Bright with the spoils of ancient time,
We yield the crown, we bend the wil-
ling knee.

To thee the virtues all obedient rife,
And Truth with unveil'd face, and clear

unclouded eyes.

II. 2. "Ye fons of mirth, and fons of care, "I the bow'r of blifs prepare; "Near me ftream ambrofial show'rs; "Near me bloom immortal flow'rs: "Oh! Hither then your erring courfes "bend;

"Here Mirth's wild crew may haply find 66 a friend;

"Soon near my fide fhall Care forget to

"grieve,

And pining Melancholy dare to live." III. 3.

Thus Science fpake aloud-when, lo! By Fancy's eye were feen the facred choir,

That taught with vivid glow

The canvas first to shine, that wak'd the melting lyre:

And round and round their queen
they move,

Symphonious to the voice of Love.
Nor did in vain the thrilling dart
Of Mufic pierce the captiv'd heart,

WELCOME, Debtor ! in these walls

O, cares, and joys, and loves forego;

Approach; a brother Debtor calls,

And join the family of woe!

Did Fortune with her frowning brow
Thy late and early toils withstand ?
Or Slander ftrike the fatal blow,

Or griping Us'ry's iron hand?
Say, does a wife, to want confign'd,

While weeping babes furround her bed, Peep thro', and see the fetters bind Thofe hands, that earn'd their daily bread?

Does fhe in vain, on knees that bend,

The marble heart of wealth implore? Breathlefs purfue fome flying friend, Or beat in vain the closing door? Look up, and fhare our fcanty meal;

For us fome brighter hours may flow;
Some angel break these bolts of steel,
For HOWARD marks, and feels our woe.

THE SORROWS OF SUNDAY.
AN ELEGY.

BY PETER PINDAR, ESQ. "The intended Annibilation of Sunday's harmless amufements, by Three or Four most outrageously - zealous Members of Parliament, gave Birth to the following Elegy. The Hint is borrowed from a fmall Compofition intituled "The Tears of Old MayDay."

M'

ILD was the breath of Morn: the blushing sky

Receiv'd the lufty youth with golden

may;

walls:

Venus, in tabernacles, make her bed;

And Paphos find herself amid St Paul's.
Avaunt, Hypocrify, the folemn jade,
Whe, wilful, into ditches leads the
blind:

Makes, of her canting art, a thriving trade,
And fattens on the follies of mankind!
Look at Archbishops, Bishops, on a Faft,
Denying hackney-coacbmen e'en their
beer;

Yet, lo! their butchers knock with flesh repaft;

With turbots, lo! the fishmongers appear!

"The pot-boys howl with porter for their bellies;

The bakers knock, with cuftards, tarts, and pies;

Confectioners, with rare ice-creams and jellies;

The fruiterer, lo, with richest pine fupplies!

"In fecret, thus, they eat, and booze, and nod;

In public, call indulgence a damn'd evil: Order their fimple flocks to walk with God, And ride themselves an airing with the Devil."

RESIGNATION.

AN ELEGY.

fobbing;

Confenting freely, that my fav'rite day

May have her tea and rolls, and hob and nobbing.

"In footh, the Lord is pleas'd when man is bleft;

And wifheth not his bleffes to blockade: 'Gainft tea and coffee ne'er did he proteft, Enjoy'd, in gardens, by the men of trade.

gloomy fhade,

'Midst unfrequented woods and moffy cells,

Opprefs'd with Love, I court the Mufe's aid, For there the Mufe with Contemplation dwells.

Sweet Solitude, thou nurfe of fond defire, I'll live with thee, and thro' the lingering day

ΤΟ

To Emma's praife I'll ftring my warbling

lyre,

And chafe the gloomy thoughts of care away.

There, unmolefted by the grov'ling throng, That haunt the mansions where the great refide,

Unfeen, unknown, thro' life I'll steal along,

Far from the fons of luxury and pride.

Tho' Fortune's fmiles did ne'er my cot adorn, Tho' unnumber'd round my dwelcares ling wait,

Tho' ftript of comfort in life's earliest morn,

Unmov'd I feel the stern decrees of fate.

Enough for me that when this life is past, To happier realms my foul shall joyful rife;

And when the grave receives this form at laft,

Shall tafte of blifs exalted in the kies.

ON FAME.

A SONNET.

BY WILLIAM ASHBURNHAM, ESQ. AY, what is Fame? a brilliant empty fhade,

Like vapours painted by the breath of

morn,

Which chill the mountain's brow, (in clouds array'd)

And ftarve the head their glitt'ring robes adorn.

Ah! what avails the flowly moving hearse,

The fhrine that eulogy is wont to raife;

The fplendid tomb deck'd with funereal verfe,

The fhout of millions, or the peal of praise ?

O what is Fame! enroll'd in glory's page, Purfu'd with vigour, and with ardour fought;

For which in ev'ry clime, and ev'ry age, The poet labour'd, and the hero fought.

"Tis oft a bubble, that through æther flies, That fports awhile, evaporates, and dies. Mary Queen of Scots on leaving France.

A SONNET.-By the Same. ALLIA, farewell!-thou pleasing,

G. bleft abode !

Scenes of my youth, fo gay, so fair, so dear!

My primrose path was once with flow'

rets ftrow'd ;

Bright fhone the eye-now glift'ning

with a tear.

THE fay

Something about—or not about the play— Good fubject ours! rare times! when Speculation

Engroffes every subject of the nation. To ferve the ftate-Jews, Gentiles, all are willing,

And for the omnium venture their last shilling:

Nay, fome fubfcribe their thousands to the loan,

Without a single shilling of their own.
Be this their Speculation, profess
To fpeculate in one thing only-Dress:
Show me your garments, Gents and Ladies
fair,

I'll tell you whence you came, and who you

What, lovely, charming Kitty-how d'ye do?

Come-fee my puppy?'" No, Harry, to see you!"

You're vaftly welcome-you fhall fee my ftud,

And ride my poney:'-" Harry, you're too good.'

Zounds! how it freezes! Fly was my Sancho's fire:

• Mifs, would you fee'" Harry, I'd wish to fee the fire."

That's your true breeding; that's your flaming lover;

The Fair may freeze, but he is warm all

over.

HOUSE OF LORDS, Dec. 2.

with, and fupported by Government, which contained doctrines directly hoftile tending to alienate the minds of the peoto the fpirit of our Conftitution, and ple from their affection to it. As this was no Party queftion, no subject of difcuffion, for he was fure no man in that House would rife to defend the doctrines Ff

it