and iniquitous judgments of men, that he "a furious Jacobite, while one hope for
1
betook himself early in life to retirement," the Stuart line remained; and his poli-
propter iniqua hominum judicia, as he left" tics, always leaning towards defpotifm,
to be infcribed upon his tomb-ftone. If were inimical to liberty, and the natural
any thing could cure a man's anxiety, and rights of mankind. He was punctual in
render him different, about what is faid" his devotions; but his religious faith had
or thought of him, now or hereafter, it" much more of bigot-fiercenefs, than
would be thefe blind, abfurd, iniquitous" of that gentlenefs which the gofpel in-
judgments of men; who break riotoufly" culcates," &c.
forth into praise or cenfure, without regard
to truth or justice, but just as paffion and
prejudice impel.

Dr. Johnfon" feems, together with the "ableft head, poffeffed of the very beft "heart at prefent exifting;" fays one writer. "Never on earth did one mortal "body encompafs fuch true greatness and "fuch true goodness," fays another; who obferves alfo, that his Lives of the Poets "would alone have been fufficient to im"mortalize his name." How able his

bead, or (as a third expreffes it) what fupendous ftrength of understanding he might have, cannot be precifely defined; but it is certain, that this fupendous underfanding was not frong enough to force its way through the meaneft prejudices, with which it was once entangled. And for the very best heart, and fuch true goodness as one mortal body did never before encompass, this is the language of journalifts and periodical writers: let us hear the teftimony of thofe, who have always known him perfonally, and intimately.

Bifhop Newton, fpeaking of the above Lives of the Poets, fays, "that malevolence "predominates in every part; and that, "though fome paffages are judicious and "well written, yet they make not fuffici❝ent compenfation for fo much fpleen and "ill humour." An account of Dr. Johnfon, said to be written by the ingenious Mifs Seward, fets forth, that he was a man of very great parts, and of many good quali ties, which it is far from our intent to deny or detract from; but that his character was

་་

a very mixed, and (fhe might have added) a very imperfect, one. His writings are reprefented as excellent and fine, where not “difgraced, as in his criticifins, with the "faults of his difpofition. He had ftrong "affections," it is faid, "where literary envy did not interfere; but that envy "was of fuch deadly potency, as to load ❝his converfation, as it has loaded his biographic works, with the rancour of party violence, with national averfion, bitter "farcafm, and unchriftian-like invective. "He turned from the compofitions of rifing genius with a visible horror, which proved too plainly, that envy was the "bofom-ferpent of this literary defpot. "His pride was infinite; yet, amidst all "the overbearing arrogance it produced, "his heart melted at the fight, or at the "reprefentation, of difeafe and poverty; and, in the hours of affluence, his purfe was ever open to relieve them. He was

If this reprefentation be in any degree juft, and I have never heard of its being either difowned or contradicted, what are we to think of panegyrifts, who afcribe to him fuch true greatness and fuch true goodnefs, as were never before encompaffed by one mortal body?

The BOAS T.

Addreffed to Mifs

LET heroes boaft their battles won,
The laurels they've obtain❜d;
'Tis mine to boast, 'tis mine alone,
A nobler conqueft gain'd.
I've won fair's gentle heart,
I've gain'd the nymph I love:
What greater honour can impart,
What blifs fuperior prove?
Hard feem'd the conteft, but at laft
The yielding maid was kind;
A mutual paffion, the confefs'd,

Had long poffefs'd her mind.
Dear lovely girl, you ne'er will find

A flame more pure than mine,
An heart more grateful, more refign'd

To love's sweet will and thine.

AN EXTRACT FROM

The VILLAGE, a POEM.
By the REV. G. CRABBE.

away,

Without the forrows of a flow decay;
I, like yon wither'd leaf, remain behind,
Nipt by the froft and fhivering in the wind;
There it abides till younger buds come on,
As 1, now all my fellow fwains are gone;
Then, from the rifing generation thruft,
It falls, like me, unnotic'd to the duft.
Thefe fruitful fields, these numerous flocks
I fee,

Are others' gain, but killing cares to me;
To me the children of my youth are lords,
Slow in their gifts, but hafty in their words
Wants of their own demand their care, and
who

Feels his own want, and fuccours others too?
A lonely, wretched man, in pain I go,
None need my help and none relieve my woes
Then let my bones beneath the turf be laid,
And men forget the wretch they would no
aid.

Thus groan the old, till by disease oppreft,
They taste a final woe, and then they reft.
Their's is yon house that holds the parifh

poor,

Whofe walls of mud fearce bear the broken door ;

There, where the putrid vapours, flagging,

play,

And the dull wheel hums doleful through the

day;

gentle fouls who dream of rural eafe, There children dwell who know no parent's

Whom the smooth stream and smoother

brand.

Nor yet can time itself obtain for these
Life's lateft comforts, due refpect and cafe;
For yonder fee that hoary fwain, whofe age
Who, propt on that rude ftaff, looks up to fee
Can with no cares except its own engage;
The bare arms broken from the withering tree;
On which, a boy, he climb'd the loftieft
bough,

Then his firit joy, but his fad emblem now.

He once was chief in all the ruftic trade,
His fteady hand the straiteft furrow made;
Full many a prize he won, and still is proud
To find the triumphs of his youth allow'd;
He hears and fmiles, then thinks again and
A tranfient pleasure fparkles in his eyes,
fighs:

For now he journeys to his grave in pain;
The rich difdain him; nay, the poor difdain;

care,

Parents, who know no children's love, dwell
there;

Heart-broken matrons on their joyless bed,
Forfaken wives and mothers never wed!

Dejected widows with anheeded tears,
The lame, the blind, and, far the happiest
And crippled age with more than childhood-
fears;

they!

The moping ideot and the madman gay.

Here too the fick their final doom receive, Here brought amid the fcenes of grief, to grieve;

Where the loud groans from fome fad cham-
ber flow,

Mixt with the clamours of the croud below;
Here forrowing, they each kindred forrow fcan,

And the cold charities of man to man.
Whofe laws indeed for ruin'd age provide,
And strong compulfion plucks the fcrap from
pride;

But fill that fcrap is bought with many a figh,
And pride embitters what it can't deny.

Some jarring nerve that baffles your repofe;
Say ye, oppreft by fome fantastic woes,
Who prefs the downy couch, while flaves ad-
vance,

With timid eye, to read the diftant glance;

Who with fad prayers the weary doctor teaze
To name the nameless ever-new disease ;
Who with mock patience dire complaints en-
dure,

Which real pain, and that alone can cure ;
How would ye bear in real pain to lie,
Defpis'd, neglected, left alone to die?
How would ye bear to draw your late breath,
Where all that's wretched paves the way for
death?

Such is that room which one rude beam di-
vides,

And naked rafters form the floping fides; Where the vile bands that bind the thatch are feen,

And lath and mud is all that lie between ;

Save one dull pane, that, coarfely patch'd,

gives way

To the rude tempeft, yet excludes the day:
Here, on a matted flock, with duft o'erfpread,
The drooping wretch reclines his languid
head;

For him no hand the cordial cup applies,
Nor wipes the tear that ftagnates in his eyes;
No friends with foft difcourfe his pain be-
guile,

Nor promife hope till fickness wears a fimile.
But foon a loud and hafty summons calls,
Shakes the thin roof, and echoes round the
walls;

Anon, a figure enters, quaintly neat,

All pride and bufinefs, bustle and conceit;
With looks unalter'd by thefe fcenes of woe,
With speed that entering, fpeaks his hafte
to go;

He bids the gazing throng around him fly,
And carries fate and phyfic in his eye;

A potent quack, long vers'd in human ills,
Who firft infults the victim whom he kills;
Whofe murd'rous hand a drowsy bench protect,
And whofe moft tender mercy is neglect.

Paid by the parish for attendance here,
He wears contempt upon his fapient fneer;
In hafte he feeks the bed where mifery lies,
Impatience mark'd in his averted eyes;
And, fome habitual queries hurried o'er,
Without reply, he rushes on the door;
His drooping patient, long inur'd to pain,
And long unheeded, knows remonftrance

vain;

He ceafes now the feeble help to crave

Of man, and mutely haftens to the grave.

But ere his death fome pious doubts arise, Some fimple fears which "bold bad" men defpife;

Fain would he ask the parish priest to prove
His title certain to the joys above;
For this he fends the murmuring nurse, who
calls

To raise the hope he feels not, or with zeal
To combat fears that ev'n the pious feel?

Now once again the gloomy fcene explore,
Lefs gloomy now; the bitter hour is o'er,
The man of many forrows fighs no more.

Up yonder hill, behold how fadly flow
The bier moves winding from the vale below;
There lie the happy dead, from trouble free,
And the glad parish pays the frugal fee;
No more, oh! Death, thy victim larts to hear
Churchwarden lern, or kingly overfeer;
No more the farmer gets his humble bow,
Thou art his lord, the best of tyrants thou!
Now to the church behold the mourners

come,

Sedately torpid and devoutly dumb;
The village children now their game fufpend,
To fee the bier that bears their antient friend;
For he was one in all their idle fport,
And like a monarch rul'd their little court;
The pliant bow he form'd, the flying ball,
The bat, the wicket, were his labours all;
Him now they follow to his grave, and ftand
Silent and fad, and gazing, hand in hand;
While bending low, their eager eyes explore
The mingled relicks of the parish poor:
The bell tolls late, the moping owl flies
round,

Fear marks the flight and magnifies the found;
The bufy priest, detain'd by weightier care,
Defers his duty till the day of prayer;
And waiting long, the crowd retire diftreft,
To think a poor man's bones fhould lie un-

bleft.

OCUL Chundes Gofaul, a Bramin of

vant to ask how he was: he brought me
for answer that Gocul was in a dy
ing ftate, as he had been all the preceding
night; and whilft I was at breakfast one
of his dependants came to tell me he was
dead. I went to fee him foon after, and
found him covered with a fheet. I then
enquired if either of his wives (for he had
two) would burn with him; but nobody
there could inform me. I defired one of
his dependants to let me know if either of
them refolved to burn, that I might be pre-
fent: this was about eight o'clock laft
Wednesday morning. At ten o'clock the
Corps was carried to Collyghaut, a lit-
tle village about a mile higher up the creek,
and about 2 miles from Calcutta.
tween twelve and one o'clock the fame
day, Mr. Shakespeare, who had an esteem
for Gocul, whofe nephew Joynerain Go-
faul is Mr. Shakespeare's Banian, called on

Be

me to let me know that Gocul's first wife

Tarrynell was refolved to burn. We accordingly went together, and reached Collyghaut in time, where Gocul lay on a pile of Sandal wood and dry ftraw, about four feet from the ground, on the banks of the creek, almoft naked. His wife, we were told, was praying on the edge of the creek, where we were informed her children (two boys and one girl) one of the boys seven years, the other five, and the girl thirteen months old, were prefent with her and Kif tenchurn, Gocul's eldest brother: that at first fight of her children, the ftrong ties of human nature struggling with her refolution, drew a tear from her; but the foon recovered herself, and told her children.

Extra from an authentic Letter relative to
an HINDOO WOMAN's burning herself
alive with her deceased Husband, dated
Calcutta, July 25, 1779.
Gour, Gofaul,haracter as a their father was dead, and the was going
merchant and a man of integrity was very to die with him; that they must look up to
refpectable amongst Europeans, and ex- their uncle, pointing to Kiftenchurn, who,
ceedingly fo with every native of this with his fon Joynerain beforementioned,
country who had any knowledge of him; would be both father and mother to them;
for he maintained a great many poor daily and that they must therefore obey them in
at his houfe, and in the neighbourhood the fame manner as they would Gocul and
where he lived; and he extended his gene- herfelf if living. Then turning to Kiften-
rofity to many Europeans, by lending them churn, fhe enjoined him, and recommend-
money when in diftrefs. He was Gover-ed him to enjoin Joynerain (who was then
nor Verelft's Banian; and from that at Dacca) to be fathers and protectors to
circumftance, I believe, you can con-
her children, and committed them to their
firm all I have advanced in Gocul's fa- care.

vour.

Gocul had been confined to his room
The holy stranger to thefe difmal walls;
And doth not he, the pious man, appear,
about a fortnight by a fever and flux: I fre-
He, "paffing rich with forty pounds a year?"quently vifited him in that time, but did not
Ah! no, a fhepherd of a different stock,
And far unlike him, feeds this little flock;

A jovial youth, who thinks his Sunday's talk

As much as God or man can fairly afk;
The reft he gives to loves and labours light,
To fields the morning and to feafts the night;
None better skill'd, the noify pack to guide,
To urge their chace, to cheer them or to

chide;

Sure in his fhot, his game he feldom mift,
And feldom fail'd to win his game at whift;
Then, while fuch honours bloom around his

head,

Shall he fit fadly by the fick man's bed

apprehend his diffolution was fo near, till
laft Tuesday morning, the 20th inft. when
on fending to enquire after his health, my

fervant informed me he was removed from
his own house to the banks of a creek that

runs from Collyghaut (a place held facred
by the Hindoos, and where the water is
taken up that is ufed in adminiftering oaths
to Hindoos in and about Calcutta) into the
river Ganges, as you know is customary
with them, in order to die in or near that
river, or fome creek that runs into it.

Early the next morning I fent my fer

This done, fhe left her children, and advanced towards the funeral pile, which was furrounded by a vaft concourfe of people, chiefly Bramins, about eight or ten feet from it, fo that there was a free paffage round the pile. Mr. Shakespeare and had a perfect view of the following scene. I were in the front of the circle, and

As foon as fhe appeared in the circle, I thought he was fomewhat confufed; but whether from the fight of her husband laying dead on the pile, or the great crowd of peopleaflembled, or at feeing Europeans among them, for there were two befides Mr. Shakespeare and myself, I cannot tell: however, the recovered herself almoft inftantaneously. She then walked unattend

ed gently round the pile in filence, ftrew-compofed, not in the leaft flurried, ex-
ing flowers as fhe went round; and when cept at firft for an inftant of time, as before
the had nearly compleated the third time, obferved; but went through it deliberately,
at Gocul's feet fhe got upon the pile with- with aftonishing fortitude and refolution.
out affiftance, ftrewed flowers over it, and
then laid herself down on the left fide of
her husband, raising his head and putting
her right arm under his neck; and turn-
ing her body to his, threw her left arm
over him; and one of the Bramins raised
his right leg, and put it over her legs with-
out a fingie fyllable being uttered. They
being thus closely embraced, a blue fhawl
was laid over them, and they were not feen
afterwards by any body. Some dry ftraw
was laid over the fhawl, and then fome
light billets of Sandal wood were put on
the ftraw; but altogether not fufficient to
prevent her raifing herfelf up, throwing all
off, and entirely extricating herself from
the pile, if he had repented, or from feel-

ous ceremony, may be very ftrong induce-At night attack the lab'ring hinds, undergoing fo painful and horrid a religi-WHEN beating rains and pinching ments to their continuing this practice.

Extract of a Letter from a Gentleman | reconciled to the ufe of oxen; and the in Suffolk, on the comparative Uti-following reafons determine me to prefer Uti-them greatly to horfes :lity of OXEN and HORSES in Huf- Firit; They are kept at much lefs expence. Mine never eat corn or meal of bandry. any fort. During the winter, they are kept in good order for work upon straw, with turnips, carrots, or cabbages; for

ing found the expence of horfes very great, one peck of bran a day to each ox, whilst I determined, fomewhat more than two in conftant work. When my straw is fiyears ago, to make trial of oxen, and nifhed, and the fpring advances, they eat bought one pair. At that time, I am al-hay; and if they work harder than commoft certain, there was not an ox worked mon in the feed time, they have bran bein this county; on which account my fide. When the vetches are fit to mow workmen added much to the trouble of and give them in the ftable, they have nobreaking them, by their obftinate preju- thing elfe. After the day's work in the dices against the ufe of them. fummer they have a small bundle of hay to eat, and stand in the ftable till they are cool, and then turned into the pafture.

"

LAW AND EQUITY.

It is not meant, therefore, as is faid before, that the magiftrate should ever difpenfe with law, or act against it; but only,

USTICE," the miftrefs and queen of JUSTICE, Jall the virtues," the bafis of all focial that he fhould, as far as he can, temper virtue as well as happiness, the very corner- it with lenity and forbearance, when the ftone on which fociety is built-this very letter is found to run counter to the Spirit. juftice, if exercised too rigorously, would For inftance; our ancient Saxon laws nooften be found, amidst the combinations minally punished theft with death, when and entanglements of human affairs, even the thing ftolen exceeded the value of to border upon injuftice; infomuch that twelve pence: yet the criminal was perthe civilians have established it into a mitted to redeem his life with money. maxim, that "extreme juftice is extreme But, by 9 Hen. I. in 1109, this power of reinjuftice," fummum jus fumma injuria. demption was taken away: the law contiIt fhould feem, therefore, that the ma- nues in force to this very day; and death giftrate, to whom the execution of juftice is the punishment of a man who fteals is committed, muft not only do justly, but above twelve-pennyworth of goods, al(in the language of the Prophet) alfo love though the value of twelve pence now is near mercy. I do not mean, that he should forty times less than when the law was ever act otherwife than the laws direct, or made. Here the fpirit is abfolutely outat any time difpenfe with the right execu- raged by the letter: and therefore might tion of them; but only, that he be go- not a Juftice, when a delinquent of this verned therein, as often as he can, by the fort is brought, endeavour to foften the Spirit rather than the letter of them. For rigour of this law; or rather to evade it, in the law, as well as in the gospel, the by depreciating the value of the thing letter frequently killeth; as when any fta- ftolen, by fuffering the matter to be comtute, from a new and different fituation of promifed between the parties, and, where things and perfons, gradually brought on the character of the offender will admit of by courfe of time and change of manners, it, inftead of pursuing the feverities of enforceth proceedings different from, or, justice, by tempering the whole procedure it may be, contrary to, the true original in- with mercy?-This, and fuch like modes tent and meaning of it. The office, there- of acting, may be faid indeed to be ftrainfore, of a magiftrate, a Juftice of Peace ing points; but, unless fuch points be for inftance, fhould be in part a kind of a ftrained occafionally, magiftrates muft of petty chancery; a court of equity, as well ten act, not only against the fpirit of the as a court of juftice: where a man, al-laws, but against the dictates of reafon, though purfued by law, may yet be re- and the feelings of their own hearts. dreffed by reafon, fo often as the cafe will Sir Henry Spelman took occafion, from admit of it; and that will be as often as this law, to complain, that "while every the Spirit of any law or ftatute fhall be thing elfe was rifen in its value, and found to clash with its letter. "become dearer, the life of man had continually grown cheaper."

|

has written a panegyric upon folly: Montaigne has faid fine things upon ignorance, which he fomewhere calls" the fofteft pillow a man can lay his head upon:' and Cardan, in his Encomium Neronis, has, I fuppofe, defended every vice and every folly. It is aftonifhing to me, that no one has yet done juftice to impudence; which has fo many advantages, and for which fo much may be faid. Did it never ftrike you, what fimple, naked, uncompounded impudence will do? what ftrange and aftonifhing effects it will produce? Aye, and without birth, without property, without principle, without even artifice and address, without indeed any fingle quality, but the as frontis triplex," the front of threefold "brafs."-Object not folly, vice, or villainy however black: these are puny things: from a vifage truly bronzed and feared, from features mufcularly fixed and hardened, iflues forth a broad overpowering glare, by which all these are as totally hid, as the fpots of the fun by the luftre of his beams. Were this not fo, how is it, that impu dence fhall make impreffions to advantage; fhall procure admiffion to the highest perfonages, and no questions afked; shall suffice (in fhort) to make a man's fortune, where no modeft merit could even render itself vifible? I ask no more to infure fuccefs, than that there be but enough of it: without fuccefs a man is ruined and undone, there being no mean. Should one ravage half the globe, and destroy a million of his fellow-creatures, yet, if at length he arrive at empire, as Cæfar did, he thall be admired while living as an hero, and adored perhaps as a god when dead: though, were the very fame perfon, like Cataline, to fail in the attempt, he would be hanged as a little fcoundrel robber, and his name devoted to infamy or oblivion.*

Pray, what do you think the elder Pliny fuggefts, when he affirms it to be "the prerogative of the Art of Healing, that

fician, is inftantly received as fuch?" any man, who profeffes himself a phyHe certainly fuggefts, that fuch fort of profeffors in his days, like the itinerant and advertising doctors of ours, had a more than ordinary portion of that bold, selfimportant, and confident look and manner, which, with a very little heightening,, may juftly be called impudence. And what but this could enable a little paltry phyfician, of no name or character, to gain fo mighty an afcendency over fuch a fpirit, as that of Lewis XI. of France? Read:

Mean while, it must be carefully noted," that the magiftrate has no power to decide Fortescue has a remarkable paffage conaccording to equity, when it is oppofed cerning this law. "The civil law," fays to written and pofitive law, or ftands in he, "where a theft is manifeft, adjudged contradiction to it: no, not even the Judge," the criminal to reftore fourfold; for a much lefs the Juftice. It is a maxim," theft not fo manifeft, twofold: but the ubi lex non diftinguit, nec nos diftinguere" laws of England, in either cafe, punifh debemus; and again, judicandum ex legibus," the party with death, provided the thing « non de legibus: and an ancient pronounced "ftolen exceeds the value of twelve pence. it very dangerous for a Judge to feem more But, is not this comparison between Civil humane than the law. The danger con- and English law aftonifhingly made by a fifts in its opening a latitude of interpre- man, who was writing an apology for the tation, and thereby giving room to fub- latter againft the former? What?-is it tlety and chicanery, which, by gradually nothing to fettle a proportion between weakening, would in time destroy the au- crimes and punishments? and fhall one man, thority and tenor of law: for, though who fteals an utenfil worth thirteen pence, "all general laws are attended with in- be deemed an equal offender against fociety, "conveniencies, when applied to parti- and fuffer the fame punishment, with ano"cular cafes; yet thefe inconveniencies ther, who plunders a house, and murders are justly supposed to be fewer, than all the family. "what would refult from full difcretio"nary powers in every magiftrate." Hume.So that the difpenfation of equity A PANEGYRIC UPON IMPUDENCE. feems referved, and with good reafon, not to the Judge who is tied down by his rules, but to the law-giver or fupreme

legiflator: according to that well-known maxim, ejus eft interpretari cujus eft condere.

He that has but impudence,

To all things has a fair pretence.

*Father Mafcaron obfeived from the

pulpit," that the hero was a robber, who "did at the head of an army, what a highwayman did alone."

"I am a pirate," faid one of that order to

ORATORS and men of wit have Alexander the great, " becaufe I have only a
frequently amufed themfelves with
maintaining paradoxes. Thus, Erasmus

fingle veffel: had I great fleet, I fhould be a conqueror."