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bours and the duties, which the solemn rites of dissolution have broken. Return to exemplify resignation by obedience and to prove your trust in the loving kindness of God, by the use which you make of the blessings which remain, Return to lay to your hearts the warning lessous of mortality-to emulate the good deeds of those for whom you mourn-aud to wait, as they have done, in faith, charity and hope, all the days of your ap. pointed time. And let it be your prayer, that whenever your earthly change shall come, tears, as pure as those you have shed this day, may be wept by your families upon your own fresh graves."

ART. IV. Richmond, and its Vicinity. With a Glance at Twickenham, Strawberry Hill, and Hamp ton Court. By John Evans, LL.D. 12mo. pp. 294. Printed for J. Darnill, Richmond; and sold by Simpkin and Marshall, London.

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R. EVANS'S active pen has

of those little volumes that make our walks and rides interesting. Such a vade mecum appears to have been wanted by the visitor of Richmond, "Imperial seat of ancient grandeur— Rich diamond sparkling in a golden vale:" "Richmond that sees a hundred villas

rise Rural or gay."

The author has omitted nothing that belongs to his pleasing subject, and has introduced many anecdotes and reflections that tend to put the reader in good humour and to excite candour and benevolence.

We have room for only one extract, but that will be allowed to be a rich

one.

"The WAKEFIELDS, already mentioned as interred in Richmond church, are the Rev. George Wakefield, M. A. together with his sons, the Rev. Gilbert Wakefield, B. A., and the Rev. Thomas Wakefield, lately deceased.

"The Rev. George Wakefield was minister of this parish, as well as vicar of Kingston. The Rev. Mr. Bailey, of Langley, Derbyshire, gave him the livings, assigning this reason to his friend, who reproached him for not taking them himself, 'No,' says he, 'I am satisfied with my present situation. Now were I to go to Richmond, the KING would be my parishioner: I must consequently go to court. Then I shall be looking forward, of course, to a prebend or a

VOL. XIX.

4 c

canonry. As soon as I am settled in a stall, I shall grow uneasy for a bishopric, and then eager for a translation to a better. In due time LAMBETH will be the fond object of my wishes, and when I am stationed there, I must be miserable because I can rise no higher! Had I not then better be quiet in my present condition, than be always wishing, always obtaining, but never satisfied?' This anecdote is perhaps not to be paralleled in the annals of clerical preferment. The worthy divine was a truly Apostolic Bishop, having learned the lesson of Christian contentment.

"The Rev. George Wakefield has a monument with this inscription :—' The REV. GEORGE WAKEFIELD, eighteen years rector of St. Nicholas, Northampton, and nine years vicar of Kingston and minister' of this parish, died the 10th of February, 1776, aged fifty-six; and his wife in 1800. It is a plain tablet, in the chancel, and the record is an appropriate tribute of respect to his memory, for he appears to have been esteemed by his

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good sense, benevolence, and piety.

"The Rev. Gilbert Wakefield was renowned in the republic of letters. The' inscription on his monument is an epitome of the history of the deceased

"In the adjoining churchyard, at the east end of the chancel, lie the remains of GILBERT Wakefield, A. B., formerly Fellow of Jesus College, Cambridge, third son of George Wakefield, A. M., late vicar of Kingston and minister of this parish; he died September 9, 1801, aged forty-five. Simplicity of manners and benevolence of temper, united with emi-. nent intellectual accomplishments, greatly endeared him in private life. To the public he was known by high attainments in biblical and classical literature, and the honesty and intrepidity of his endeavours to promote the cause of truth and liberty. Sustained by the affection of numerous and estimable friends, as well as by the testimony of conscience, he endured with fortitude a state prosecution, and two years' imprisonment, for his REPLY to the Address of the Bishop of Landaff to the People of Great Britain. Returning from the county prison of Dorchester, with an unbroken spirit but impaired strength, and resuming his accustomed exertions, he sunk under them fourteen weeks after his enlargement, The expectation of immortality by the Christian covenant, and the remembrance of his conscientious life, enabled him to meet death with complacency! His loss, irreparable to his wife and children, was deeply regretted by all his friends and

relations.

"Thomas Wakefield, B. A., the mimister of this parish, erects this memorial of his brother's desert and his own affection.'

"MISS AIKIN, niece to the celebrated Mrs. BARBAULD, and author of several popular historical productions, penned the following elegant lines to his me

memory

"Friend of departed worth, whose pil. grim feet

Trace injured merit to its last retreat, Oft will thy steps imprint the hallow'd shade,

Where WAKEFIELD's dust, embalm'd in tears, is laid.

'Here,' wilt thou say, 'a high undaunted soul

That spurn'd at palsied caution's weak

controul,

A mind by learning stored, by genius fired,

In FREEDOM's cause with generous warmth inspired,

Moulders in earth-the fabric of his fame

Rests on the pillar of a spotless name!
For you who o'er the sacred marble bend
To weep the husband, father, brother,
friend,

And mutely eloquent in anguish raise
Of keen regrets his monument of praise,
May faith, may friendship, dry your
streaming tears,

And virtue mingle comfort with your sighs,

Till resignation, softly stealing on With pensive smile, bid lingering grief be gone,

And tardy TIME veil o'er with gradual

shade

All but the tender tints you would not wish to fade!

"I knew this excellent man, and he is deserving of the reverence of posterity. "The Rev. Thomas Wakefield has also a ueat monument, near the pulpit, with this appropriate inscription

"Reader-THIS MARBLE is sacred to departed excellence, and was raised by the parishioners of Richmond to perpetuate the name of THOMAS WAKEFIELD, B. A., who for thirty years was their minister, their guide, and their friend! If aptly thou art conscious of congenial virtue; if, like him, thou art pure, just, beneficent, liberal, and pious, upright with man and humble with GoD-reflect and rejoice, that while thy recompense is certain in heaven, thy memory shall be cherished upon earth! THOMAS WAKE FIELD was born the 18th of December, 1751, and died the 26th of November, 1806."-Pp. 79–84.

ART. V.-A Gazetteer of the most Remarkable Places in the World; with brief Notices of the principal Historical Events, and of the most celebrated Persons connected with them: to which are annexed, References to Books of History, Voyages, Travels, &c., intended to promote the Improvement of Youth in Geography, History, and Biography. By Thomas Bourn, Teacher of Writing and Geography, Hackney. 3rd ed. 8vo. pp. 984.

Too Insensibly, they form the national character. And in this view the aspect of the present times is peculiarly encouraging; a marked improvement having of late years taken place in the elementary books that are put into the hands of young persons.

100 much importance cannot be

ascribed to books of education.

To this pleasing change the late Mr. Butler (see Mon. Repos. XVIL 571) and his family, to which the present author belongs, have largely contributed. The works that have issued from this school, and they are numerous, are full of interesting information, and encourage a taste for literature, and inculcate the genuine feelings of humanity and just principles of morality and religion. There is scarcely a page in any one of these manuals that does not record some important fact, or relate some pleasing anecdote, or contain some "elegant

extract."

Mr. Bourn's "Gazetteer" is not merely occupied with longitude and latitude, with the names of kings and queens and ministers of state, and with notices of antiquity: he has enriched his descriptions with every kind of literary and biographical reference

subjoining in most cases his authorities. We give a few specimens, taken at random:

"BIRMINGHAM, a large town in Warwickshire. It is noted for its hardware and japan manufactories, and for the steam-engines made by Boulton and Watt. The Birmingham goods are exported in great quantities to foreign countries, where, in point of cheapness and show united, they are unrivalled.—WARNER'S N. Tour. In 1791, a tumultuous rising of the populace, in consequence of several festive meetings taking place on the anniversary of the demolition of the Bastille to celebrate that event, destroyed

two meeting-houses, and the dwellings of Dr. Priestley and other Dissenters.AIKIN'S Annals, I. 437; Dr. COOTE's Mod. Europe, I. 315.-Boulton, a cele. brated manufacturer and practical engineer, was born at Birmingham in 1728, and died there in 1809.-Supp. Ency. Brit.-Pratt, author of Gleanings, &c. &c., died at Birmingham in 1814.-Europ. Mag. LXVI. 414.-Hutton, the venerable historian of Birmingham, died at Bennett's Hill, near that town, in 1815, at the age of 92.-Mon. Mag. XL. 280; Gent. Mag. Sept. and Oct. 1815."

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BOSTON, the capital of Massachusets, North America. It is a flourishing town, containing about 3600 inhabitants, and was the birth-place of Franklin, in 1706, a philosopher who explained the theory of lightning, and promoted with the utmost zeal the spirit of opposition in the Americans, to the government of Great Britain.-Dr. COOTE'S Mod. Europe, 1. 118. When Franklin, by means of a kite, identified lightning with the electric fluid, he confessed that the moment in which he did so was, of all others, the most exquisite he had ever experienced. "Led by the phosphor light, with daring

-

tread,

Immortal Franklin sought the fiery bed; Where, nurs'd in night, incumbent tempest shrouds;

The seeds of thunder in circumfluent clouds;

* Evidently an erratum. Morse (Amer. Geog, 2nd ed. Lond. 1792) stated the population of Boston at 14,640; and Tudor (Letters on the Eastern States, Boston, 1821) assigns reasons why the town now" contains only 43,000 people," adding, "If the population within a square of thirty miles, including Boston, be counted, all of which has its centre of business in that place, and with which a very active daily intercourse is kept up, it would probably be nearly equal to that of any similar extent in the United States." ED.

Besieged with iron points his airy cell, And pierc'd the monster slumbering in his shell.

Amusements in Retirement, 240; DARWIN. "In the American war, Boston was taken by the English, and retaken by the Americans. On the 1st of June, 1813, Captain Broke, in a frigate called the Shannon, captured an American frigate called the Chesapeake, after a short but bloody conflict, off the port of Boston.AIKIN'S Annals, II. 410.-70. 33. W. 42. 25. N."

"WALTHAMSTOw, a pleasant village in Essex, about 4 miles N. E. from London. Dr. Cogan, who first directed the attention of his countrymen to the possibility of recovering persons apparently drowned, and, in conjunction with Dr. Hawes, founded the Humane Society, died here in 1818."

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POETRY.

ON THE DEATH OF MRS. GEORGE KENRICK.

And is it thus, and is it thus

We're doomed thy sainted form to see?

O desolating thought for us!

O sweet and blessed sleep for thee!
Thy heart is still-but ours are torn-
Thou art in heaven; and we forlorn.

Thy virtues like a crown of light,

Beamed in full glory round thy head;
We never deemed a thing so bright
Could die so soon-and thou art dead.
Thou, dead! and we are left alone
'Neath overpowering grief to groan.
And whither, whither shall we turn

From sorrow that hath pierced us thro'?
We meet with none but those who mourn,
And vainly ask for comfort too!

We weep-they weep-but hearts that bleed
Far other consolation need.

Angel! when from her throne above

She looks upon our cell below,

"Twould break her bliss, 'twould wound her love
To see us thus desponding. No!
We'll bear it all-as 'neath her eye,
That now regards us from the sky.

And if some bursting tear should stray

Down our pale cheeks-some struggling sigh

Break forth-we'll wipe that tear away,

That sigh subdue, and smilingly
Look up to heaven and feel we share
Her bliss unutterable there.
Thou gentle Spirit! in thy course

There were no rocks, no ruggedness-
Nor strife, nor sorrow, nor remorse,
But all was pleasantness and peace ; .
For all was calmest virtue. Thou
Ne'er gav'st our hearts a grief, till now.
Not long ago thy blue eyes met
The fading sun, when evening spread
Its hues of light-He never set

More calmly, than upon thy bed
Of death thou sinkedst, when thy even
Waned, and thy spirit flew to heaven.
The autumnal flowers look smiling on-
There's life and joy in field and wood;
Yet she who waked their smiles is gone-
We wander forth in solitude!

Mock not our woes, sweet flowers—but hear
And sympathize with our despair.

Despair? O no! 'tis thoughtless,—vain—
In every flower and field and tree

We'll trace that lovely smile again,

Which beamed upon them, Saint! from thee.
Yes! stars and flowers and all that's fair
Thy image holds, thy name shall bear.

Some star that's brighter than the rest,
Some flower whose fragrance never dies,
Shall blend them with thy memory blest,
Shall consecrate thy obsequies,

And hourly as we think of thee
These shall thy sweet memorial be.

Sept. 23, 1824.

B.

A PARAPHRASE OF THOMSON's "HYMN."

The Seasons as they change, O Lord!
Thy boundless power and love record,
And speak thy skill divine!

Thy presence dwells in all we see ;
The rolling year is full of Thee;
And all the earth is thine.

Forth in the Spring Thy beauty goes
And o'er the face of nature throws
Thy tenderness and love;

Wide flush the fields, the softening air
Breathes balm and fragrance everywhere,
And lifts the soul above!

Then all the Summer's charms arise;
We see reflected from the skies
Refulgent heat and light!
Thy sun, from its exalted sphere,
Shoots full perfection through the year,
And charms the raptured sight.
In Autumn, too, Thy bounty shines,
In golden fields, and cluster'd vines,
And all its produce gives :
With plenty loads the fruitful ground,
And spreads one common feast around
For every thing that lives!

In Winter, awful dost Thou grow,
And storms and tempests, as they blow,
Majestic darkness cast!

Tis then we hear Thy whirlwinds roar,
And see the humbled world adore,
And feel Thy northern blast!
Mysterious round! what force divine,
What might and majesty are Thine!
What vast, surprising skill!
Such love and harmony appear,
That, though we trace them every year,
Thy wonders charm us still."

Yet, wandering oft with thoughtless gaze,
Unconscious, man the scene surveys,
Nor marks Thy mighty hand;
Nor sees Thee in the changing years,
Nor deems that the still varying spheres
Revolve at Thy command!

He sees profusion in the Spring;
Sees Summer all its ardour bring,

And Autumn's produce given;
He hears the Winter's blast resound;
Sees Nature's glories strew the ground;-
Yet looks not up to Heaven!

Nature attend! join every soul
Beneath the sky, from pole to pole,
In adoration join !—
And ardent raise one general song
Ye gales, which sweep the earth along,
And breathe a strain divine!

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