In Vict'ry's arms refign'd his willing breath,
And prov'd himself a mortal, by his death.
O'erwhelm'd with forrow, pierc'd with poignant grief,
His fplendid act could fcarcely give relief.
She fancied (whither cannot grief impel?)
Her hopes all per fh'd, when the hero fell.
Ere fharp affliction left her to repose,

Or Time the deep-inflicted wound could clofe,
Fame, borne on pinions of unwifh'd for speed,
Again compell'd the half-clos'd wound to breed,
Taught her a man illuftrious to deplore,
Whofe duft fleeps peaceful on a diftant fhore.
O'er realms obedient to Britannia's fway,
Whence Phoebus firft leads forth the fmiling day→→
He rul'd; by no unworthy paffion mov'd,
By all refpected, and by all belov'd:
Unblemish'd virtue in his bofom reign'd,
And honour unimpeach'd, integrity unftain'd.
Her mis'ries now in quick fucceffion flow:
Ere he could feel the keennels of this blow,
The fime dire monfler that the last conferr'd,
Increas'd his empire, by a dreadful third.
A man flie loft, by ali entitled great,

A mighty pillar of a mighty State;

Who, undifmay'd by Fortune's fickle frown,
Liv'd for his country's welfare, not his own.

To guard the State, when dark'ning tempefts lower'd,
Refiftlef eloquence in torrents pour'd;

To roufe our paflions, and our breasts inspire,
Join'd Rome's bright polifh to the Grecian fire :
Truth on his lips in manly accents hung,

And flow'd convincing from his matchlets tongue.
When ravag'd nations groan'd, when Europe bled,
And pale difeafe had ftretch'd him on his bed;
The world's difafters view'd, then deeply figh'd,
For Britain's fake, he liv'd, for Britain died!

Bereft! unfriended !—whither could fhe flce ?
Illuftrious Fox! the fondly turn'd to thee!
To thee the turn'd, with dark despair opprefs'd,
And funk, defponding, on thy faithful breast.

But

But fcarce thy powers, obedient to the call,
Could raise her fpirits, or prevent her fall;
Or thy fam❜d balfam to her wounds impart,
When Death, infatiate, fhook o'er thee his dart:
And, as exulting in Britannia's woe,

Still fhakes, ftill threatens, but delays the blow.
May Heav'n, beneficent, its mercy fend,
And o'er fo dear a life its arm extend!
Difpel his friends' affliction, Europe's fears,
And, till a future period, fave our tears.
But, fhould unerring Providence deem wise
To fnatch fo great a man from mortal eyes,
Though no proud tombs with pyramids fhall vie,
Or raise their lofty fummits to the sky,

His name fhall never from our breafts depart,
But make a monument each British heart:
Perchance a stranger, driven from his home
By ftern oppreffion, may furvey his tomb;
Who, by Misfortune's iron hand deprefs'd,
Shall fay, while forrow rends his penfive breaft,
"Here fleeps a Patriot's duft, his Country's friend:
Eternal bleffings on his fhade attend!"

T.

STANZAS ON THE MUCH-LAMENTED DEATH
OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE CHARLES
JAMES FOX.

WHAT need of sculptur'd stone to tell
That Fox is laid among the dead?
When every breaft with fighs fhall fwell,
And every patriot droop his head,
To feel that Britain's Champion fleeps,
That mute for ever is that tongue,
The voice for ever filence keeps,
On which enrapt attention hung!

That he who labour'd, e'en in death,
To make the long, long warfare cease,
And struggled that his latest breath

Might just proclaim-the World at Peace!

VOL. X.

The

Thy pen, O fweet hiftoric Mufe,

Shall dwell delighted on his worth;

And when a theme of truth 't would choose,
The name of Fox fhall give it birth!

Thou 'It tell that soft affections dwelt
Pre-eminently in his heart;
E'en the poor beetle's state he felt,
And in his cares he bore a part:

For wide the circle he would make,
Left he should crush him on his way,
And from his little life might take
A moment of his promis'd day * !

Oh! tell from early youth to age,
In Liberty's great cause he toil'd;
Record it on thy fairest page,

Her facred veft he never foil'd!

Tell too, when wounded forrow fought
Some friendly hand to lend relief,

His ready wine and oil he brought,
And gave a pitying tear to grief!

M. B. D.

SONNET ON CHARLES JAMES FOX.

NAT. XIII. JAN. MDCCXLIX.DENAT. XIII, SEPT.
MDCCCVI,

FOX, thou haft liv'd! The helm in our bleft days

Of funshine and of calm, thou didst not take : But, when the tempeft made the firm earth fhake, And gloom and horror reign'd; this be thy praife, That, in no hour to liften flattering lays,

That fteerage boldest pilots dar'd not make, And who long govern'd haften'd to forfake, Thy hand accepted:-thence thy country pays, With love and veneration, that firm zeal, That life, a victim to the public weal,

* See the beautiful eulogy fo juftly pronounced by Mr. Sheridan, on the humanity of his friend Mr. Fox, in the Houfe of Commons.

That

That spirit, active, comprehenfive, kind,

That energy, on renovated base

Which fix'd the rights of juries-and the race

Of Afric liberates-and fought the world in peace to

bind.

Sept. 16, 1806.

C. L.

TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE C. J. FOX,

ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S PRINCIPAL SECRETARIES OF

STATE.

BY MR. BELFOUR.

F bright renown, if ancestry, or power,

IF

Or grandeur, wealth, could stay one circling hour;
Or learning, wit, or elocution fave

Th' auguft poffeffor from the filent grave;
This mighty Statefiman, long a nation's pride,
Much prais'd, and juftly valu'd, had not died.
For, Reader, in his nature were combin'd
A foul exalted-an enlighten'd mind;
A heart in friendflips and affections warm,
And talents that e'en apathy might charm:
Nay, on his eloquence perfuafion hung,

"And truths receiv'd came mended from his tongue."
While all in private life that men hold dear,

And all in public ftations they revere,

Manners refin'd, and taste, and knowledge great,
The love of Freedom, and Oppreffion's hate;
In Senates with a patriot's fire to glow,
The will to fofter worth, and fuccour woe:
Thefe, with the godlike zeal rude War to cease,
And blefs his country with the joys of Peace,
To Fox belong d:-but envious that his name,
On earth, should be immortaliz❜d by Fame,
Proud Death, in triumph, bore his peerless prize,
To endless glory, under happier skies.

Sept. 17, 1806.

1

FATHER

FATHER THAMES.

[From the General Evening Poft.]

MR. EDITOR,

Millbank, O. 22d, 1806...

ALTHOUGH a confiderable period has elapfed fince I first perceived that a confpiracy was brewing against me, it has ever been my practice, as I glide quietly along, and generally exhibit a Smooth furface, to fhow by my forbearance that I wish to keep an even courfe. This meeknefs, and the placidity of my difpofition, you must allow, have for a long feries of ages (however they may diflike my appearing at their public dinners) been of infinite advantage to my neighbours on both fides.

In this prudent and laudable course it is probable that I might have continued till my enemy fire had devoured me, had it not been for a circumftance that has, I must confefs, confiderably ruffled me, and which I fhall now detail with all the brevity that perfpicuity will admit.

You, Sir, know perfectly well that I am the happy poffeffor of a large and generally clear eftate in Water, which, by a legal fiction, in the adjacent Hall, is termed land. It is feldom that fiction enters our Courts; however, in this inftance, I am counted a great Land-holder in Middlefex and other counties; though, as I obferved, the very reverse of this is the fact; for the Banks on my fides, and a much broader bottom beneath me than many Country Banks poffefs, are Water-holders: and, to whomfoever those may belong, it is plain, except when the tide is low, that they cannot keep above water; which adverting to the tide, you know, is contrary to the received opinion refpecting thofe that have funk their landed property. This is further demonftrable by our faying, when a gentleman's affairs are profperous, that they will hold Water; and ftill further, when a tradefman, who has

been