Read here, ye grave, and own with gen'rous smiles, While lives Matilda, or the rural Giles,

The Muses still support Britannia's Isles.

JULIA.

A

FLORA AND THE BOY.

A FABLE.

By a Lady.

BOY one morn into a garden stray'd,

Which Flora had adorn'd with sweetest flow'rs; Roses, azalias, lilies, pinks, display'd

Their various charms, their fascinating powr's : The little rogue delighted, view'd the rich parterre, And long'd to rifle every beauty there: But Flora, when she saw him thus dispos'd, Drew near, and wisely interpos'd;

She smiling said, "My little friend,

To one alone your choice must be confin'd;
Look round; select one to your mind,
Where balmy odours with rare beauty blend."
He quickly laid his hand upon a rose,

Whose charms might well his little heart engage,
When soon the thorns his rude attack oppose.
With indignation fir'd,

He from the lurking enemy retir'd,
And scornful, thus express d his idle rage:
"Go wither on thy stem, thou treach rous flow'r,
There pine and fade, neglected and forlorn;

I'll seek another rose in yonder bow'r,

Who fair, like thee, shall blow without one thorn." He ran to pluck one from the clust'ring store,

Each bow'r examin'd o'er and o'er,

As vainly search'd the garden round,

Alas! no rose without a thorn was to be found.

His heart beat high with rising pride,

That thus his wishes were deny'd;

(For he had never felt controul;)

At length a flood of tears reliev'd his swelling soul.

Flora, diverted at such childish grief,

Yet willing to encourage him, approach'd again:
"My son, (she said) your tears are vain,
But take my counsel, you will find relief;
Courage and perseverance never fail;
First o'r the thorns prevail,

Each difficulty you will then remove,
And gain the object of your love."

To this, each little student may compare
The hours of learning, often mixt with care;
Yet while the road to knowledge is in view,
With diligence its winding paths pursue;
And should some briars on the way appear,
Those will be conquer'd, if you persevere !
And having well employ'd your youthful hours,
Reap with advautage, time's most precious flowrs.

ON

READING THE WORKS

OF

William Cowper, Esq.

IS said, read Homer once, and you no more

'T'S

Z..

Can read; all other books appear so poor. But if the page of Cowper we peruse, Further to read will scarcely be of use. Boldly he claims the native rights of man, Each act to ponder, each event to scan. Clearly he shows what seems forgot forsooth! That custom, numbers, are no proof of truth. Unbrib'd, his judgement marks in letters clear, What men in general seem, and what they are. Howe'er conceal'd, and fene d from common view, Vice he detests, and gives to vice its due. And though weak men poor virtue disregard, Cowper defends, and shows her great reward. Ye British elders, show his works to youth, They'll lead to goodness, and they'll lead to truth: Not what is call'd so by a vicious age. But what is prov'd so by the sacred page. Great Homer wrote in strains sublime; 'tis true; But Cowper writes what Homer never knew.

Ah! luckless Cato! soon thy race was run,

Thine own imprudence brought thee to thine end; My brutes take warning, and those pleasures shun,

Which thus depriv'd you of your barking friend.
Men and men's gods bedeck'd the former's line,
Nature and her's, 'tis Cowper's to define.
Would you, my friend, true comfort here possess,
Early with Cowper's truths your mind impress.
Would you still more, a mansion in the skies,
His rules will teach you how to grasp the prize.
Hackney,

J. F.

2d June, 1801.

ELEGY

ON A SPANIEL LOST IN LONDON.

IS not the nodding plume, or sable hearse,

In simple strains, and soft elegiac verse,
O'er Cato's death I drop a plaintive tear.

bier;

The sober ev'ning meal had long been clos'd;

The watchman's cries throughout the street resound; Cæsar and Puss before the fire repos'd,

But through the house no Cato can be found.

'Tis thought, that when some friendly guests with

drew,

The silly beast rush'd through the op'ning door,
Forgot the comforts which by use he knew,
And hop'd to find that novelty had more.

Blind to futurity! he little thought

How vast the dangers of this wicked town; He was a prize, which cruel ruffians sought; His furry coat their horrid work would crown. 'Tis thought they stript him of his glossy skin, To make a covering for an Elfin's head: His cries and groans they valued not a pin. Laugh'd at his agonies, and left him dead. His mangled corpse, and others of his kind, Whom these ferocious murd'rers chanc'd to meet, In sufferings and in death thus sadly join'd, Were left to perish in a private street.

Literary Review.

The Substance of the Holy Scriptures methodised, and divided into Lessons, for the Use of Families, on a Plan not hitherto attempted to every Lesson is subjoined an appropriate Hymn; together with brief Notes, and various useful Tables. By the Rev. Edmund Butcher. Symonds. Il. Is.

TH

HIS work was published in twenty-one num⚫ bers-and is now completed. The first two or three numbers we noticed upon their apppearanc, and expressed our approbation of the plan on which it was conducted. Having examined it in its finished state, we particularly recommend it to the notice of the serious readers of our Miscellany.

That the BIBLE (the best of all books) contains some passages which are neither instructive nor proper to be read in families, cannot be denied. Mr. B. therefore, has omitted such parts-and has accompanied the portions selected with excellent reflections. The length of the sections for daily reading the pertinency of the hymns to the subjects read-together with the occasional short notes, by way of illustration, conspire to render this volume a most valuable present to all families who wish well to the cause of virtue and piety. We do not recollect to have met with a work more calcu lated to advance the best interests of mankind.

Milton's Paradise Lost, with the Life of the Author.
By John Evans, A. M.
To which is prefixed
the celebrated Critique by Samuel Johnson, L. L. D.
Symonds.

Il. 105.

HIS edition of PARADISE LOST, recommends

THIS

itself to our attention by the splendour of its engravings, and the elegance of its typography. This incomparable poem deserves all the ornaments with which it is in the power of art to embellish it. No expence has been spared for the purpose, and therefore the present volume is deserving of a place in every gentleman's library. The portrait of Milton is very fine-the manly features of his countenance are happily depicted--the cast of his physiognomy breathes the inspiration of poetry.

In his Life Mr. E. disclaims the idea of bringing forward any new materials-but professes to collect together the most interesting particulars respecting the poet, which have been already published. It is pleasing to behold them thus concentrated. They glow with the greater intenseness, and produce a more lasting impression on the memory.

Tears and Smiles, a Miscellaneous Collection of Poems. By Peter Pindar, Esq. West and Hughes.

TH

HIS truly original genius has here presented us with a few of his pieces, which are remarkable for tenderness and delicacy. There is an irregularity, both of sentiment and expression, in the. work before us. Julia; or, the Victim of LoveOrson and Ellen, a Legendary Tale-New and Old Ballads together with Odes, form the contents of this singular production. Of the many curious pieces, we transcribe the following lines: