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tion; and I dare say, we could pro- | cure a large subscription towards the support of the mission in our individual capacities. I pray that it may please God to bring this scheme into accomplishment, and that he may bless your labours with success. It can hardly, however, be expedient for you to go to Africa so soon as you mention, as you would, in that case, arrive during what is called the Smokes: it will be better therefore for you to wait till November or December. I cannot help adding, that much must depend upon the qualifications and dispositions of the missionaries, not only for their success among the natives, (according to the usual proceedings of Divine Providence,) but also for the friends we might raise for the general purpose of the establishment."

though they were not forward in manifesting that spirit which they accused him with neglecting to cherish. It was attacked by the Rev. Thomas Belsham, who published his review of this treatise, in a series of letters, addressed to a Lady.

At the general election in 1806, it was suspected that he would have found some serious opposition to his being returned for the county; but such was the popularity of his name and character, that his friends from every quarter rallied round him, and secured his seat. At the next general election, he declined standing for the county. This arose from his discovery of the offence which several had taken to some branches of his Parliamentary conduct; in addition to the offence which he had given them in 1806, in favouring the return of another candidate whom they disliked.

Hence, as the tide of public opinion was not promising to his success, he was unwilling to risk his hard-earned reputation on the precarious issue of an expensive contest. He now sits in the house as member for Bramber, in Sussex.

The wife of Mr. Wilberforce, is the daughter of Mr. Isaac Spooner, a wealthy and popular merchant of Birmingham. By this lady he has several children.

In connection with these amiable displays of a benevolent heart, Mr. Wilberforce has invariably manifested a strong attachment to the interests of Christianity. In the year 1797, he published a volume entitled “ A Practical view of the prevailing Religious System of professed Christians in the higher and middle classes in this country, contrasted with real Christianity." This work, as might naturally be expected, excited a considerable degree of interest, when it first made its appearance. Its circulation was both rapid and extensive; as several editions were sold during the first year. Shortly afterwards it was published in a less expensive form, for the accommodation of those benevolent individuals who thought it a work highly proper to be given away among the lower orders of society. In this shape its circulation was very considerable, many thousands being distributed through various parts of the country. The work in general consists of regular essays on almost every leading topic in divinity. The style is perspicuous, and forcible; never degenerating into meanness, and but rarelying influence than Mr. Wilberforce. rising into an elegance of diction. Its prevailing character is that of dignified simplicity, which is happily appropriate to the nature of the subject.

In his public character, he has in general shewn himself friendly to the measures of the ministry, but without furnishing his opponents with any just ground for accusing him with having surrendered his independence. As a senator, his opinions have always commanded much attention and respect, even among those who censured his conduct, in the support which he gave to Mr. Pitt during his long, popular, and occasionally reprobated, administration. Few men who have appeared in Parliament, occupying a similar situation, can boast of a more command

In private life, he is said to exhibit, in an eminent degree, that humanity and benevolence, which his opposition to the slave-trade might lead us The popularity which it acquired, to expect, and that piety, which his soon called forth animadversions and" Practical Views," are calculated to replies, in which the writers charged the author with that want of candour and moderation towards those who differed from him in sentiment, which they did not forget to amplify; al

enforce. To every benevolent institution, he has been the undissembled friend. Bible Societies, Sunday Schools, and Missionary Associations, have invariably found in him an able

advocate, and a liberal subscriber. His zeal for the propagation of Christianity seems to have increased with his years, without shackling his mind with the fetters of bigotry, or communicating an enthusiastic impulse to his exertions. In his person, Mr. Wilberforce is rather below the middle stature, and his body is of a slender make. His health is extremely delicate; and any extraordinary effort in public speaking, renders his constitutional weakness conspicuously apparent. But this bodily weakness has been more than compensated by that vigour of intellect, which on all occasions emanates from his spirit. His strength of mind may be fairly contrasted with the weakness of his corporeal frame; and the greatness of its powers, and the manner in which they have been employed, in behalf of the unfortunate slave, and in the cause of Christianity, will be mentioned with dignified gratitude, when the present generation shall be swept aside, and his spirit shall have mingled with beings of congenial feelings in the regions of immortality.

THE VILLAGER'S LAY.

A POEM. BY PALEMON.
Canto I.

SPIRIT of rural Verse, who dost appear
As Flora garland-dight, or smiling May
Personified; such as the opening year

In coronal of her own flowers bids stay,
To meet the budding Spring upon its way,
Or hail young Summer in her crown of roses;
Aid me to picture forth in wild array,
E'en what each simple pictur'd scene discloses,
For I, a simple bard in rude essay,
Nor Doric reed inspire, nor sweet Theorbo
play.

Remember'd Village! scene of earliest joys, Where sportive childhood trifled with its toys, Where village friends, that nectaréan cup Prepar'd, which childhood rapt'rously drinks up;

Then as the Schoolboy mark'd the Summer nigh,

Young hope sprang sparkling in his eager eye;
Creative fancy drew the beauteous spot,
And o'er its scenes hope's meteor-splendours
shot,

When holiday and sweet vacation lent,
From school or home the season to be spent
In absence short; but promised long before,
Soon as his memory told the school-task o'er.
Joyful the way! and with what new delight
He heard the bells-the steeple mark'd in sight.

Till there arriv'd, how glad the youngster's breast,

When Friendship welcom'd him, and smiles

carest.

Those days are past, but scenes of time and If once enjoy'd, fond memory will retrace; place Warm fancy's eye lights at its genial power The splendid sunshine of lite's morning hour, Roves through gay scenes, and pleasantly de

tains,

From joys ideal from the mind's real pains, With youth's fresh crown the brow of age adorns,

Whose blooming fragrance hath surviv'd its thorns.

Come, Inspiration! come, expand, inspire The pregnant bosom with poetic fire. Come, and from scenes unvisited of long, Transfuse their beauties through my wanderIn Britain's vales, sweet poesy! 'tis thine ing song. To lead the song-0 lead this song of mine! Still stray with me, and still, benignant maid, To thy own votary give indulgent aid; May Heaven's own power my youthful fancy guard,

And virtue lead me to her own reward!

Farewell, ye scenes, where busy toils of trade
The gentler rounds of social life invade;
Where clouds of smoke recumbent blot the day,
Or yield reluctant to the morning ray;
Where beauty fades ere on the hopeful cheek,
Celestial Hebe sees her roses break;
And health, though courted, or by arts beguil'd,
To linger still and bless her darling child,
The mother sees, while tears suffuse her eye,
Affrighted hence, to fairer regions fly;
While convalescence holds a dubious strife,
And nature trembles through the springs of
life.

Hard is his lot condemn'd by hopes of gain,
To chase a phantom with incessant pain;
To barter bliss and every dearer sweet,
Where health, contentment, and affections
meet.

Or, if in fortune's sun he faint or thrive,
Successes tempt him, and misfortunes drive,
Still he pursues, and wealth alone inspires ;
Till the warm breast forgets its native fires,
Repress'd and faint, by long laborious cares
Of mind or body, each alike impairs :
And as the weight increases, more deprest
Enfeebled nature labours through the breast;
He sighs and pines, still courteous of relief,
But hides the cause of all his hopeless grief.
If his ambition in the chase of wealth
Disdains an off'ring at the shrine of health,
More arduous he than Providence design'd,
In prompt exertions to outstrip his kind;
Nature in all, tenacious of her laws,
Ordains a bound where o'erwrought strength

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But just supplied, now wavering to expire
The lambent taper of life's fading fire.
Farewell, ye scenes! ye sickly scenes, farewell!
Where all but calm contentment loves to dwell;
Ye homes of luxury, where arts divide
The wreath of science with contemptuous pride.
And all of wealth, or pleasure, charms the
breast,

True happiness alone the absent guest.

Ye fairer scenes, ye rural beauties, hail, Where healthful breezes fan the charming vale; Where lovely scenery in perspective lies, And simple art with simpler nature vies! Here, while remember'd scenes the wand'rer

views,

Life's earliest sports and pleasures he renews. Each wood, each tree, each meadow, tells a tale

Of young adventures in this peaceful vale,
When oft at morn he sought with eager breast,
To scare the greenfinch from her mossy nest:
Or, when with furze the common was o'ergrown,
He mark'd the linnet's offspring for his own;
And ling'ring lov'd her curious note to hear,
The prompt announcer of the vernal year.
Joys like its flowers, its butterflies on wing,
Fled-but returning with returning Spring,
E'en now sequester'd in this calm retreat,
The mossy bank presents a friendly seat,
Where I, remote from every noisy town,
Poor, independent, and recluse, sit down.
End of Canto First.

THE

IPHIGENIA OF TIMANTHES, A Poem:

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The Subject for the Newdigate Prize, at
Oxford, for 1819.

By the Author of Genius, a Vision.
FANCY! fair, radiant, goddess of the skies,
Rob'd in the rifled rainbow's thousand dyes;
Thou, that of Eld to rapt Timanthes' view,
Rear'd'st the sad group his daring pencil drew;
Say in what monld of unessential light
The vision'd pageant pass'd before his sight;
What forms of veriest wretchedness uprose,
In spectral train, and what and which he
chose;

Bid pilfering Time again restore his prey,
And check the sacrilege of dark Decay.

First, where the foremost shed the pitying tear,
In sober sorrow stands the priestly seer;
Ulysses by, in unavailing woe,

Could almost dare to deprecate the blow;
And sorely Ajax proves his bosom wrung,
As passion'd pity thunders from his tongue;
While sorrow-chasten'd Menelaus sighs,
His heart's full anguish gushing at his eyes;
His is the throe that bleeding bosoms bear,
The scorpion-sting of desolate despair.
In sadder, stiller, prominence of pain,
The silent princess proves resistance vain;

Her conscious spirit owns the godhead there, And chill conviction chains the tongue of pray'r.

Fix'd and forlorn in terror's breathless calm,
Her big soul palpitates with mad alarm;
Speechless her lips, yet resolute her eye,
In mute appeal for mercy to the sky:
E'en such a look sad Pity's self might wear;
It taught Diana's savage soul to spare.
In dumb distraction tow'rs the warrior chief:
But mark that form! amid the group of grief,
Deep in his heart the father yearns to spare,
Not his a struggle for the vulgar eye,
But all the King repels the impulse there;
The dim eclipse of fearful majesty.
Consummate art! 'twas thine to veil his woe,
To draw from Pity twice her wonted throe;
'Twas thine to shroud a monarch mortal's face,
That grief might blend with grandeur and
with grace.

This! Aulis! this! we owe thy piteous tale,
Of kings and princes turn'd in horror pale.
The deep tradition smote Timanthes' heart,
Till genius kindling call'd the aid of art,
And o'er the dread, stupendous, perfect whole,
Outpour'd its full magnificence of soul.
Britain! thy genius owns no rival claim,
If once it ask eternity of Fame;
Thine be the task to bid a father slay,
And "Jephthah's Vow" shall bear the palm
away.

DRUNKARDS AND IDOLATERS. Which is the greater sin, and which the least; Which finds the sharper, which the milder rod; To turn God's glorious image to a beast, Or turn the image of a beast to GOD?

ON THE TRANSIT OF VENUS,

AND THE

Nuptials of his Majesty George III.

IN THE YEAR 1761.

[By a Student of Trinity College, Dublin.] To far distant climes whilst Astronomers run, For a prospect of Venus approaching the sun: (Since such a phænomenon rarely appears, But once in a hundred and twenty-two years:) If they had made Harwicht the place of their stay,

They might see a bright Venus arise from the

sea;

And scarce a degree of her orbit begun,

'Till she at St. James's was joined with the sun. How needless, ye sages, to take such a scope, To sail to St. Helen's, or Cape of Good Hope? How needless abroad for such prospects to roam!

Behold a more glorious conjunction at home!

* Two Astronomers were previously sent out to take their station at the Cape of Good Hope, to observe the Transit in the Southern Hemisphere.

The place where her Majesty landed; which is about sixty miles from London.

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Front Elevation of the Blind Asylum Chapell. Liverpool ?

Published by Henry Fisher Caxton. Liverpool Nov 30, 1812.

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