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ansiver : " I always loved Nicolas; I At length, however, an obfcure inadmire Chan fort." A few days after, former was found to denounce him, and they met, and the master and the pupil Chamfort was carried to the Madelonembraced each other with tears.
Unable to obtain there the at. Nor was he deceived by his presenu tentions, and the occasional solitude that ment of his future fortunc. By the cares fome habitual infirmities imperiously reand interest of his friends it gradually quired, he conceived to profound a horTivelled to eight or nine thousand livres ror of imprisonment, that when he was a year ; but the greatest part of it con- suffered to return a few days after to his fitted of pensions, and the whirlwind of apartments under the custody of a guard, the revolution swept them away.
The he swore he would rather die man be day after they were fuppreffed, he went
immured anew. to see his fellow academician, Marmon in little more than a month the gentel, and found him lamenting the loss darme told him he had orders to carry that his children would suffer by the fame him back to a house of confinement.-decree. Chamfort took one of them upon Chamfort retired to a clofet, under the his knees : “ Come here, my little fel. prerence of making his preparations low," said he, - you will be a better tired a pistol at his head ; thattered the man than either of us. Some day or bones of the nose ; and drove in his right other you will weep over your father, on eye. Astonished at finding himself alive, Hearing that he had the weakness to weep and resolved to die, he took up a razor, over you, because he feared that you tried to cut his throat, and mangled the might not be so rich as himself.”
Aesh in the most dreadful manner. The That metcor that role in the French weakness of his hand made no change in revolution ; rushed through the political the resolution of his mind : he attempt. fyftem like a comct ; and disappeared in ed several times, in vain, to reach his the midst of the long surprise and uncafy heart with the same instrument; and admiration it excited--Mirabeau, in finding himfölf begin to faint, made a Thort, was the friend of Chamfort, and last effort to open the veins at his knees. often borrowed his pen. The most elo- At length, overcome by pain, he uttered quent passages in the Letters on the order a loud cry, and fell almost lifeless into a of Cincinnatus belong to the latter. He chair. was, indeed, his council upon all occa The door was broke open and surgeons lions; and when Mirabeau went to pass and civil officers foon repaired to the an hour with him, as was his custom in spot. While the former were preparing cht inorning, he used to call it going to dretlings for fo many wounds, Chamfort rub the post electrical head he had ever dictated to the latter the following truly met with.
Roman declaration : 4 I, Sebastian Roch The light emitted by this electrical Nicolas Chamfort, declare it was my inhead could not fail to shine in opposition tention to die a freeman, rather than to to the blasting rays of the mock fun of be carried back, like a flave, to a houfe liberty—of the felon Robespierre-to of confinement.
I declare, moreover, whom talents and virtue were alike ob- that if violence be used to carry me noxious.
thither in the state I ain in, I have still It was difficult, however, to lay hold on strength enough to finish what I have Chamfort. Frank, upright, decided, and begun.” independent of all parties, he had steered An hour or two after, he became pera steady course through the revolutionary feetly calın, and resumed his vfual ironistorm, openly profeiling an equal hatred cal manner. “ See what it is," faid he, of priests and nobles, and of Marat and to want dexterity ; an aukward man the rest of the men of blood. At the same cannot even kill himself." He then time that he was author of the laying, went on to relate how he had perforated ** Guerre aux chateaux, puix aux cbuil- his eye, and the lower part of his foremières," he explained by the appella- head, instead of blowing out his brains; rion of the fraternity of Cain and Abel, the scored his throat, instead of cutting it ; compulsive system of fraternization de- and scarified his aft, without reaching vised by the Jacobin Club.
his heart. " At last," added he, “I
recollected Seneca'; and in honour of Se* War to the Leat, Peace to the cot
neca, I resolved to open my veins ; but
Seneca was a rich man; he had a warm age,
bath, and every thing to his with : I am
1796.] Original Letter of Sir George Saville. a poor miserable devil, and have none of $ 10 conquer and blefs the world.” I the same advantages. I have hurt-my- take conquering to bles, & cutting one Self horribly, and here I am still.” half of a nation's throats, to treat the
Not one of the multitude of wounds other with lenity, to be the most unchrila he had made was mortal. Strange as it tian thing in the world. Indeed, I have almay appear, they were even attended by ways thought, parcere jbjectis to be a very beneficial consequences. By giving vent foolish, as well as a very impertinent to an internal humour that had long saucy language, for man to talk to his preyed upon his constitution, they rc- fellow creatures. I do not know whether ftored him to a state of health hé had I kould add to the force of my argument, been a stranger to for years; and Cham.. by laying, likewise, fellow cbrstiuns, befort might now have been alive, if, when cause, I conceive, the great point of the his wounds were closed, the surgcons had Chritian religion was to teach us we are given issue to that humour by other fellow creatures. But they neglected the precau
But, indeed, where is the good of it? tion, and this amiable and courageous
Why can't one as well spare people character was soon after seized with a first? I am sure one inay spare more of mortal disease.
them, & with far less trouble. To (These anecdotes will be REGULARLY
talk of conquering prople, and of the divine CONTINUED, and the Conductor's re
principles of fire governnent, in the same quejl tbe alijtance of all persons who, by page, (nay, within four lines) makes one a recent residence in France, are qualıfied to communicate original and interest
To know whetker conquering (under ing fa&is.]
the saucy pretence of bleising) is good, only ask how you would like for France,
or Spain, or the Turk, if you please, to ORIGINAL LETTER FROM THE LATE
talk to to you? They would all biess you SIR GEORGE SAVILE.
their own way ; some with circumcision,
some with the inquisition. And to know [!Ve bave been favoured with the following whether it is Christian, jo to da to others as
letier by the gentleman to whom it was you would not be done to, is settled, as I fent, and wbo obferves that it is a true reinember, some where or other; so I fac fimile of the frank and liberal mind need not argue it. of the truly excellent writer..
Saving the few lines, p. 10, which alluded io, was preached before a regi- the above refers to, I like the Sermon ment of militia, and afterwards printed} well; but that cursed habit, imbibed,
very carly, of applauding successful geSir, Liverpool, Nov. 19, 1779 nerous highwaymen, leads one into terI
RETURN you the Scrmon with rible scrapes when one fets about to ma.
thanks. It has entertain’d and pleas’d nufacture such a warp with a Christian me much. I am inclined to think the weft. Charles the 12th must have been political part of it more consistently a devilish good" Christian. What pity "reated throughout than the religious. your Alexanders, &c. had not the same The question of obedience to unlawful advantages ! I think a Roman general commands is foundly laid dowo, & had not the greater triumph, unle's he had subject only to that fort of difficulty flain a certain number of men. TO which all political propositions are liable darken their splendour, I suppose the to from the pollibility of being over- number must have been increased for a itrained, & of putting cases which clever Christian triumph. shall drive you to abfurd conclusions, by And now having, I think, almost getting into extremes. Thus it will be writ a sermon likewise, I thank you once objected, “ Shall each common soldier judge more, & remain, fir, of a nice point of law ” Nevertheless the
Your obliged, and doctrine is right and found.
Obedient humble servant, But I do not so well like the application of Christian virtue, to enable a na
G. SAVILE. tion “10 darken the Roman Splendour, T. B. Bayley, esq.
ODE TU SOLITUDE.
DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY.
IT is vain ! and her spirit has fled;
Matilda has sunk in the tomb; Enllav'd by Custom's ruthless sway, The beauty of Nature lies mix'd with the dead: Lead me, calm spirit! to some ftill retreat,
Alas! how severe is the doom. Where Silence shares with thee the blooming As a lily that blows in the vale,
mead, Save when at distance heard, in cadence sweet,
That springs to perfection, and dies;
She bloom'd, and then fick’ned but thall we The village mintirel tunes his simple reed.
bewail? There, free from cares, from jarring passions free,
The grave of the pure is the path to the
fkies. Oft may I Atrike the lyre, sweet Solitude ! to thee.
The vitim of woe and despair,
Her foul now delights in its rest;
And roving with bliss thro’the regions of air,
Unites in the songs of the bleft.
ON MRS. RAINEY,OF GREENVILLE, COUNTY
OF DOWNE, IRELAND, the glade. Thither let Fancy lead her magic band,
By Dr. DRENNAN. And o'er my senses wave her soul-entrancing wand.
THE light of Memory, struggling thro' the Bu` when at eye the curfew's knell
Awakes to life the tenant of this tomb;
Reitores cach mild, majestic matron grace,
Dwells on the form, and lingers on the face ; And when from vilage ípire the solemn tull In strong delusion waits to hear her speak, Yields its sad tribute to the breathless clay ;
And sees the bloom just mantling o'er the cheek, As calm Reflection feals tipoi myful,
Her mind recals the varied lov: liness, The tear unmark'd tall take it, filent way; The power to warm, to harmonize, to bless ; And mournful oft I'll cull the violet's bloom, The tranquil conitancy in acting right, Heave the fad soothing ligh, and dress the clay
And the fine sense of elegant delight; cold tomb.
Her brưast by duty warm’d, by goodness grac'd, When Midnight spreads her blackeít robe,
While round it play'd the lambent flame of
Hers, every charm that could in courts prevail,
HIcr charm and choice to steal along the valc. And phantoms mock the fearful eye; 'Parent of all! wł je voice the winds chey,
Hers, the full swreiness of domestic life, The raving occan, and the black'ning turm,
The friend, the daughter, hifter, mother, wifi.
The wife--Othou whom most my four deYet stoop'ít to guide the sparrow on his way, And ihed'it thy mercy on the fruigsling In whom I liv'd, with whom my bliss ex
1:.cs, worm ! To thee, great God! to thee my voice I'll
In vain does Memory pierce this mortal gloom · Trembling I'll strike the lyre, and hymn thy Thy husband ftes, and only fees-the tomb.
boundless praise. Norwich.
UPON THE LOSS OF A FRIEND.
WHILST others wildly run in Pleasure's
And scorn pale Misery's sadly plaintive figh,
I wiep, unhceded victim of remorse, Miror, non bene convenire vobis !
Ah! whither, whither, shall the wretched
But now my bosom (we'l'd with easy mirth; Pair'd in wedlock, pair'd in lisc;
But now it flow'd with sympathetic joy ; Husband, luited to ihy wife:
Each sweeter from charm Friendship took its Worthless thou, and worthless she ;
birth : Strange it is ye can't agree!
Fool that I was ! such blessings to deftroy. Hackney, June 26, 1796. G.W.
And must one moment dafl the happy scene, And darken each fair prospect Hope has made ? Oh! that such pleasures I had never seen,
Or never known the bli sful vision lade!
And in the morning rises as befo:e:
O then retire, and weep! Their very u'CES
Soluce the guiltles. Drop the pearly flood On thy, sweet infant, as the FULL-BLOWN
rose, Surcharg'd with dew, bends o'er its neigha
b'ring BUD. And ah! that Truth some holy spell might
lend To lure thy wanderer from the syren's power; Then bid your souls infeparably blund, Like tw)
bright dew-drops meeting in a flower.
S. T. COLERIDGE.
ODE TO THE SPIRIT OF ANIMATION,
(Vide Darwin's Zoonomia, Vol. I.) Indited on a journey on horseback laft winter, and
travelling late at night. O THOU! whose presence none can trace
'Midst all the fons of ADAM's race,
Nor tell, or where, or when,
Of this trail house of men :
Nor let our union end.
Should'st thou desert thy friend?
Whilft I am cold and wet :
SONNET. As one, whom the dark phantoms of the
nicht, Troubling his wilder'd phantasy, have led
Amid the dim damp mantions of the dead, Or from some pre-ipice's giddy height Abrupily thruit; when moming's orient ray
Wakes him to lafety, loves to ponder o'er
The vision'd terrors terrible no more ;
Hope fed my wounded bosom, sulkn Care
Sat on my brow, and fieruly sad De pair Courted to rest within his dark abode ; The sad lyre echoed then the penfive song, Yet sooth’d the wearying hours that lingering layg'd along
; I'll ply the then with ale and gin,
And many a dish I'll get. But mark, when fill'd, no pranks like those Which learned Doctor DARWIN shows,
Who says, that when thou’t fuil, . Thou’rt apt to play men inany a trick, And frisk' about, and tuis, and kick,
Juit like a mad town-bull.
And I on is pull'd to pieces:
Nor one on lun, er leares.
ON A LATE CONUBIAL RUPTURE
IN HIGH LIFE. I
SIGH, fair injur'd stranger ! for thy fate ;
But what thallfi, hs avail thee'? thy pour heart, 'Mid all the “ pomp and circumstance” of state,
Shivers in nakedness. Unb ade1}, "Itart Sad recollections of Hope's garish dream,
That thap'd a feraph turin, and nam’dit Love, Its hues gay-varying, as the orient beam
Varies the neck it Cytherea’s dove. To one !ft accent of domestic joy, Poor are the shouts that ibake the high
arch'd dome; Those plaudits, that thy public path annoy, Alas! they tell thec---Thou rt a wretch as
RE ĆE I PT
cake at Bath.) Written by the late Mujor Drewe, of Exeter. No more I heed the muffin's zest,
The Yorkshire cake, or bun,
To make a Sally-Lun.
What the full pint contains,
In youthful virgin's veins.
The wall-tree's rounded nut?
In thy clean pastry put.
In chryftal shrine immur'd;
Forth springs the warrior bird?
And combai's sanguine hour;
And on the butter pour.
Fam'd China's faireit pride :
But seek thou, first, for neatrels' sake,
The Naiad's crystal stream;
And o'er the surface gleam.
Which cooks, not poets use,
And thro' the mass diffuse. Then let it reft, disturb'd no more,
Safe in its steady seat, Till thrice Time's warning bell liath ftruck,
Nor yet the hour compleat.
By no stern rulc confin'd;
Each Sally-Lun be twin'd.
To me, thy power divine;
The wondrous work consign.
When to a hapisy ear it fpeaks,
Once, charming was my waking hour,
board pread out its ever-sparkling hoard ; When friends and filial Cherubs (mild, And of its thom each care beguild. NA!.--Wake me not, O CRUEL SWEEP, For I only wake to weep. Sept. 22, 1796.
TO A CHIMNEY-SWEEPER.
Nor raise these aching lids to weep !
Thy clario'i loud I hate to hear,
How fad it seems, when slumbers fly,
País on, pass on, thou Jing'ring child,
TO THE LILIES OF THE VALLEY.
By the Riv. J. BIDLAKE, of Plymouth.
W!o wafie unscen, unknown,
With down-calt, pensive tye,
And ever-nıusing heads ! Ah! when I view your meek, your humble
mien, And all your highly breathing fragrance taste,
How bloeds my fad’ning soul,
For unprutected worth!
For in your short-liv'd charms
Are pictur'd well its fate. For ye, ere yet the morning's rising gale Shall wing its early course, may ccafe to greet
With the sweet brca h of love
The wakeful wanderer's way.
Us helpless victims shield
From the unpitying grave, Then come, my Anna's faithful boom deck : For ever there true worth, true wisdom dwell.
Congenial to your state,
Soft in that heaven rest.
While ye more fragrance tatte
Than in your native beds.