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----------.............Of your parasite is a most precious thing, dropt from above, Not bred 'mongst clods and clot-pouls, here, on earth. I muse, the mystery was not made a science, It is so liberally profest to almost All the wise world is little else, in nature, But parasites, or sub-parasites. And, yet, I mean not those that have your bare town-art, To know, who's fit to feed 'em ; have no house, No family, no care, and therefor mould Tales for men's cars, to beat that sense; or get Kitchen-invention, and some stale receipts To please the belly, and the groin ; northose, With their court-dog tricks, that can fawn and ficer, Make their revenue out of legs and faces, Eccho my lord, and lick away a moth : But your fine elegant rascal, that can rise, And stoop (almost together) like an arrow, Shoot through the air as nimbly as a star; Turn short, as doth a swallow ; and be here, And there, and here, and yonder all at once; Present to any humour, all occasion: And change a visor, swifter than a thought ! This is the creature had the art born with him, Toils not to learn it, but doth practise it Out of most excellent nature: and such sparks Are the true parasitcs, others but their Zani's. BEN Jonson.

Studious to please, and ready to submit,
The supple Gaul was born a parasite;
still to his int’rest true, where'er he goes,
wit, brav'ry, worth, his lavish tongue bestows;
In ev'ry face a thousand graces shine,
From ev’ry tongue flows harmony divine,
These arts in vain our rugged natives try,
Strain out with fault’ring diffidence a lie,
And get a kick for awkward flattery.
Besides, with justice, this descending age
Admires their wond’rous talents for the stage :
Well may they venture on the mimick's art,
who play from morn to night a borrow'd part ;
Practis'd their master's notions to embrace,
Repeat his maxims, and reflect his face ;
With ev'ry wild absurdity comply,
And view each object with another's eye;

To shake with laughter ere the jest they hear,

Bay, can'st thou shumber mid these billowy vales,
Torn up to mountain summits by the gales,
When we are driv'n with close contracted sails,
In tempests tost
Then farewel, happiest wand'rer of the wave.
Thy lesser wings the whelm'ning storm shall
When our proud bark no human skill can save,
And all is lost I


* The Procellarius Pelagicus, or stormy Petrel, botter known to the mariner as one of “Mother Carey's chickens,” is a small bird about six inthes in length, and in the extent of its wings, thirteen. ... It is wholly black, except the covert of the tail, and vent-feathers, which are white ; the bill is hooked at the end; the nostrils tubul. lay its legs slender and long. In tuc Ferrol

* * *

To pour at will the counterfeited tear ;

Isles, this bird sometimes serves the purpose of a candle, by drawing a wick thro' its nostrils, from which it possesses the quality of o oil. It is seen all over the Atlantick ocean at the greatest distance from land. in tempests, of which it is said to warn the seaman by collecting under the stern of his vessel. it skims over the tops of the billows with incredible velocity. These birds are the “cypselli" of Pliny, which he places a

mong the apodes of Aristotle ; not becausc thoy,

wanted seet, but were Kazoroa.

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out of asics, other, but their Zuhio .

are the true?” BFN JONSON.

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And, as their patron hints the cold or heat,
To shake in dog-days, in Deccmber sweat.
- Johnson,

Live loath'd, and long,
Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites,
Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meck bears,
You fools of fortune, trencher-friends, time's flies,
Cap and knee slaves, vapours and minute-jacks |

f man and beast the infinite malady
ft you quite o'er.



-O'er the twilight groves and dusky caves,
Long-founding aisles, and intermingled graves,
Black Melancholy fits, and round her throws
A death-like silence, and a dread repose ;
Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene,
Shades every flower, and darkens ev'ry green,
Deepens the murmur of the falling floeds,
And breathca a browner horrer on the woods.

with eyes up-rais'd, as one inspir’d,
Pale Melancholy sat retir’d,
And from her wild sequettered seat,
In notes by distance made more sweet,
Pour'd through the mellow horn her pensive soul,
And dashing soft from recks around,
Bubbling runnels join'd the sound;
Through glades and glooms the mingled measure
or o'er some haunted streams with fond delay,
Round an holy calm diffusing,
Love of peace and lonely musing

In hollow murmurs dy'd away. COLLINS.

Hence, loathed Mclancholy,
Of Cerberus, and blackest midnight born,
In Stygian cave forlorn,
*Mongst horrid shapes, and shricks, and fights un-
Find out some uncouth cell,
Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous
And the night-raven fings;
There under Ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks,
As ragged as thy locks,
In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.

Come, pensive nun, devout and pure,
sober, freadfast, and demure,
All in a robe of darkest grain,
Flowing with majestick train.
and sable stole of cypress lawn,
Over thy decent shoulders drawn.
come, but keep thy wonted state,
with ev'n step and musing gait,
And looks commercing with the skies,
Thy rapt soul fitting in thiric cyos i
There held in holy passion stils,
Forget thyself to martle, till
with a ful, leadeo, downward cast,
You fix than on the carth as fast.


oh winter, ruler of the inverted year, :
Thy scatter'd hair, with fleet like ashes fill'd, -
Thy breath congeal’d upon thy lips, thy checks -
Fring'd with a beard made white with other snows :
Than those of age, thy forehead wrapt in clouds,
A leafless branch thy sceptre, and thy throne
A sliding car, indebted to no wheels,
But urged by storms along its slipp'ry way,
I love thee, all unlovely as thou seem'it,
And dreaded as thou art 1 Cowper.

When Frost and Fire with martial powers engag’d,
Frost, northward, fled the war, unequal wag'd 1
Beneath the pole his legions urg'd their flight,
And gain’d a cave profound and wide as night. |
O'er cheerless scenes by Desolation own'd,
High on an Alp of ice he fits enthron'd
One clay-cold hand his chrystal beard sustains,
And scepter'd one, o'er wind and tempest reigns;
O'er stony magazines of hail, that storm
The blossom'd fruit, and flowery Spring deform.
His languid eyes like frozen lakes appear,
Dim gleaming all the light that wanders here.
His robe snow-wrought, and hoar'd with age ; his

A nitrous damp, that strikes petrifick death.
FAME. to
Open your ears; for which of you will flop s

The vent of bearing, when loud Rumour speakst
I, from the orient to the drooping west,
Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold
The acts commenced on this ball of earth :
Upon my tongue continual slanders ride;
The which in every language I pronounce,
Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
I speak of peace, while covert enmity,
Under the smile of safety, wounds the world :
And who but Rumour, who but only I,
Make fearful musters, and prepar’d defence r
whilst the big year, swoll'n with some ether grief,
Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war,
And no such matter Rumour is a pipe
Blown by surumises, jealouties, conjectures :
And of so easy and so plain a stop,
"That the blunt monster with uncounted heads,
The still-discordant wavering multitude,
Can play upon it. SHAK.
Fame, the great ill, from small beginnings grows.
swift from the first ; and every moment brings
New vigour to her flights, new pinions to her
Soon grows the pigmy to gigantick size :
Mer feet on earth, her forehead in the skies :
Enrag’d against the gods, revengeful earth
Produc’d her last of the Titanian birth.
swift in her walk, more swift her winged haste
A monstrous phantom, horrible and vast i
As many plumes as raise her lofty flight,
so maily piercing eyes enlarge her fight i



------------------------- * ~ * * * * *

*** * * * *------a - " ---------422 POETRY. or of -- o !... . . ** * o * * * Millions of opening mouths to Fame belong; * . Northou, though learn'd, his homelier thoughts

And every mouth is furnish’d with a tongue :
And round with listening ears the flying plague is

She fills the peaceful universe with cries;
No slumbers ever close her wakeful eyes.
By day from lofty towers her head she shews:
And spreads, through trembling crowds, disastrous

With court-informers haunts, and royal spies,
This done relates, nor done she feigns; and min-

gles truth with lies. Talk is her business; and her chief delight To tell of prodigies, and cause affright.

**. Dr. Yiden.

There is a tall long-sided dame,
(But wond’rous light) yeleped Fame,
*That, like a thin-camelion, boards
Herself on air, and eats her words:
Upon her shoulders wings she wears
Like hanging sleeves, lin'd through with ears,
And eyes, and tongues, as poets lift,
Made good by deep, mythologist.
With these she through the welkin flies,
And somctimes carries truth, oft lies;
With letters hung like eastern pigeons,
And Mercuries of furthest regions,
Diurnals writ for regulation -
Of lying, to inform the nation;
And by their publick use to bring down
The rate of whetstones in the kingdom.
About her neck a pacquet-male,
Fraught with advice, some fresh, some stale,
of men that walk’d when they were dead,
And cows of monsters brought to bed;
of hail-itones big as pullets eggs,
And puppies whelp'd with twice two legs;
A blazing-star seen in the west,
By six or seven men at leatt.
Two trumpets she does sound at once,
But both of clean contrary tones;
But whether both with the same wind,
Or one before and one behind,
We know not ; only this can tell,
The one sounds vilely, th’ other well;
And therefore vulgar authors name
"Th' one Good, the other Evil, Fame.


FA1 RY L.A.N. D.

THERE, must thou wake perforce thy Doric quill; .
"Tis Fancy's land, to which thou sett'st thy feet,
where still, 'tis said, the Fairy people meet,
Bcpcath each birken shade on mead or hill.
There, each trim lass, that skims the milky fiore,
. To the swart tribes their creamy bowls allots ;
By night they spit round the cottage-door,
While airy minstrels warble jocund notes.
There, every herd, by sad experience, knows
'How wing’d with fate, their elf-shot arrows fly "
when the sick ewe her summer food foregoes,
Or tretch'd on carth, the heart-smit heifers lie.
&ch airy brings awe the untutor'd swain :

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Sweet scented flower who'rt wont to.
bloom -
On January's front severe,
And o'er the wint'ry desert drear
To waft thy waste perfume !
Come, thou shalt form my nosegay now,
And I will bind thee round my brow,
And as I twine the mournful wreath,
I'll weave a melancholy song,
And sweet the strain shall be, and long
The melody of death.

Come fun'ral flow'r', who lov'st to dwell
With the pale corse in lonely tomb,
And throw across the desert gloom
A sweet decaying smell. o
Come press my sips, and lie with me •
Beneath the lowly alder tree,
And we will sleep a pleasant sleep,
not a care .." dare intrude
To break the marble solitude,
So peaceful, and so deep.

And hark the windood as he flies

Moans hollow in the forest trees,
And sailing on the gusty breeze
Mysterious musick dies. -
Sweet flow'r, that requiem wild is mine,
It warns me to the lonely shrine,

The cold turf altar of the dead;

Mv grave shall be in von lone spot,

Where as I lic by all forgot,

A dying fragrance thou wilt o'er my ashes shed.

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Volume I. Part I. of The Wew Cyclopedia, or Universal I)ictionary of Arts and Sciences, formed usion a more enlarged filan of arrangement than the Dictionary of Mr. Chambers ; comprehending the various articles of that work, with additions and improvements; together with new subjects of biography, geografhy, and history ; and adafited to the firesent state of literature and science. By Abraham Rees, D. D.; F. R. S., editor of the last edition of Mr. Chambers's Dictionary, with the assistance of eminent frofessional gentlemen. Illustrated with new filates, including mafis, engraved for the work by some of the most distinguished artists. First American edition, revised, corrected, enlarged, and adafited to this country, by several literary and scientifick characters. 4to. Price of the half volume to subscribers $3. Philadelphia, printed by R. Carr for Samuel F. Bradford. :

* * The character of Dr. Rees' Cyclopedia, as far as the volumes have been published, is so well known from the various English Reviews, which are regularly received in this country, that it would seem in a degree impertinent for us to enter into a formal examination of its merits. It will be more decorous in the young criticks of the New World, though to some members of the republick of letters (which like other republicks has its jacobins) it may appear slavish, to bow with deference to the judgment of the literary veterans of the Old Continent, who have, with few exceptions, expressed their warm approbation of the general execution of this work; and to this opinion we do, after an attentive perusal of the most important articles, very cheerfully subscribe. We shall therefore confine our remarks chiefly to a comparison of the American with the English edition, and to the correction of such typographical and other errors, as we have been able to detect in elther. And here we take pleasure in imparting to our readers, how much satisfaction we felt on the first view of the American edition, at the decisive and honourable testimony which it bore to the flourishing state of the arts of firinting and engraving in our country. It is one of the few American editions, which, we can with truth say, is not surpassed by the English. Nor will we restrict our commendation to the mechanical execution of the volume before us; we have found useful additions made to some of the articles, which we shall take notice of in another part of our Review. But here commendation must stop ; for, to adopt an old sentiment, though we love our countrymen much,

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we love truth more ; and truth compels us to declare....that this American edition of the Cyclopedia appears to be, at least in respect to the original editors of its in some degree, a literary fraud. How far the publisher, Mr. Bradford, holds himself responsible for the contents of this edition, we do not know ; but we must say, that the manner in which it is to be conducted, judging from the present half-volume, throws no trifling weight of responsibility upon the gentlemen in this country, who superintend the editorial department ; a responsibility, which we hope has not been the only motive for keeping their names from the publick. Strong as this language may appear, we trust the impartial reader will be satisfied, that it is not stronger, than is warranted by the facts, which we shall presently exhibit. The prospectus informs us, that the English edition is published under the direction of Dr. Rees, the learned divine, whose name the work bears; and that he is assisted by about forty other distinguished European literary gentlemen, whose names are given to the publick, and who therefore stand pledged for the faithful execution of the work, and (what is of not less importance) for the firinciples maintained in it. | Such is the work which the American publisher recommends to his subscribers ; a work, “the execution of which (to use the language adopted by him) is guaranteed by the respectable names,” which he gives to the public from the English advertisement. Not content,however, with servilely cofiying the London edition, he promises, with a very commendable spirit of patriotism, “amendment and addition in those parts, “at least, which relate to the United States,” and informs us, that “he “has engaged the assistance of gentlemen, whose talents and celebrity “do honour to their country, and will essentially enrich this important “work.” These were the editor's fromises, and they were probably dictated by patriotism as well as interest, and, we have had the charity to believe, were made with the sincere intention of sulfilling them. Yet (it is painful, but we must make the inquiry) how have these promises been fulfilled : Why, either by the most unfortunate misconception of the nature of his undertaking, or, what we are ioth to believe, by a most daring disregard of his word, he presents the first half-volume to the publick almost without a single claim to patronage on the principal ground, upon which it had been recommended ; we mean,....that it was to be a work guaranteed by the authority of Dr. Rees and his able coadjutors. The American editors must know, that it is not a work thus guaranteed ; it is not a work resting upon the reputation of able and responsible European literati, who have not been afraid to give their names to the publick, as a pledge for the faithful performance of their undertaking. It is not, in short, “Dr. Rees' Cyclopedia,” but the Cyclopedia of Drs. X, Y, and Z, of Philadelphia, New-York, &c. So far is it from being Dr. Rees' work, that we can point out parts of it, which are palmed upon the publick as his, that are directly in contradiction with what that gentleman has published in his own edition; sentiments which that learned divine, we venture to say, would not only disown, but would think it his duty to counteract by all the justifiable means in his power. No, this edition is the work of unknown and irresponsible “literary scientifick characters” (we take Mr. Bradford's word for the literature and science of tile gentlemen) in our own country.

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