の [I extract the following lines from a Poem with which a Corres pondent has favoured me, entitled "THE SEER." B. B.] Now is the time, the peaceful hour, To stem th' assailing squadron's power- Grasp your blades and, fir'd with rage, And gleaming through the midnight hour, Let The fiery columns raise. geNow the spectres, rais'd from hell, And rushing on 'midst haggard death, battle's strife renew, Who dare the battl And, born to conquer or to die, Disdain to tremble, yield, or fly. Fall all around in death-like gloom, Soldier and chieftain, friend and foes: They fall to meet an early tomb, While faster still the life-blood flows, ON FALSE CANDOUR. Candour, which loves in see-saw strain to tellbomen 943 70-72 it 15 Of all the falsities which mankind adopt, either to feign virtues which they have not, or to conceal blots which they have, there is no one species of affectation so odious as False Candour. He who conceals his real opinion under this loathsome veil is like the general who, fearing to put forth manfully his whole strength, has recourse to a shifting system of manoeuvres. The professors of Candour are divided into two classes those who pretend to cloak what is true; and those who I are (as they express themselves) constrained to assert what is false. 1 The first class can often be recognized in those who, meeting you, will say, "I do not think our neighbour's affair so very bad; to be sure, no woman should admit any one in the absence of her husband; but then her case allows palliation:" Or, "Well, really I think there are uglier persons than our friend So-and-So," though he may happen to be one of those" boyob and ti!. }: s.lt ervoo ti 229mbord In whom all human beauties flourish fair, In his thick lips, flat nose, and flaming hair. Now these persons think, or pretend to think, that, by this mock liberality, they do a great service to the pers son mentioned; whereas, to defend a man from the imputation of imperfections which are palpable to every observer, is like a ruined spendthrift pretending to keep up his appearance, and to deceive his already-awakened creditors. If a man has faults, let them be borne, and let not the remedy, by an attempt at an excuse, become worse than the disease. 19309 For my part, I do not love to beat about the bush, when my object must be known; and, although there is no necessity for raking up a man's blemishes, it is still worse to expose them by an injudicious defence. The next class are those who say, "Well, really, I ust say that you are the most hideous personage must sorry I ever to say Y SU OTOT 100 of thing harsh, but the truth must be told." Then, if you mention it to a mutual friend, he will tell you, that the Candid gentleman is a erson who will speak his own mind. It is very well for Pope to write, 26 odw szor love to speak out all my mind, as plain ƒâ odr odd As honest.Shippen, or downright Montaigne, timbs bloga ngnow on sense, The truth is, that though politeness, in its modern has weakened the natural simplicity of manners, it has, at the same time, blunted the edge of bitterness; if it has destroyed the warmth of friendship and genuine kindness, it covers the coolness of indifference, and smothers the turbulence of animosity. of animosity. Conceive the disturbance which would be caused in female society if every one spoke that which lay nearest her heart. How many who thought themselves amiable, young, and beautiful, would be hailed by the complimentary appellation of an "Ill-natured old Crump." In a professor of Candour we never can distinguish whether they are friends; for on one side they are masked under whining hypocrisy ; on the other, under pretended independence. They are not not your real enemies, but those concealed under the appearance of friendship, who are so uncontrolled in their strictures. Gay has warned us against both parties in the couplet, An open foe may prove a curse, But a pretended friend is worse. And another eminent writer has enlarged on the idea in these lines, which serve as a conclusion to my paper : A Give me th' avowed, th' erect, the manly foe, B. P.S. My readers will perceive that I have kept to the Horatian maxim, "Servetur ad imum, &c.," for the same author furnished my motto and conclusion. THE CAPTIVE MINSTREL'S COMPLAINT. Shall I, amid my prison gloom, Doom'd here, unfriended and alone, My very keepers seem to me They've bound my limbs, they cannot bind And though they snatch'd my joys away, Like summer ray on wintry day It beams through clouds of sorrow's night. And though that beam is twice as fleet, Yet still, I trow, 'tis twice as sweet, To one o'er whose distracted soul The icy waves of sorrow roll. Yet e'en in hope there is some pain ; a man so cas'd in grief, |