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THE

Repository

OF

ARTS, LITERATURE, COMMERCE, Manufactures, Fashions, and Politics,

For OCTOBER, 1813.

VOL. X.

The Fifty-eighth Fumber.

EMBELLISHMENTS.

1. VIEW OF FORT GEORGE, UPPER CANADA

2. THE HINDOO JUGGLERS NOW EXHIBITING IN PALL-MALL

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ib.

6. PATTERNS OF BRITISH MANUFACTURES, WITH ALLECORICAL WOOD-CUT 244 7. PATTERNS FOR NEEDLE-Work.

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Persons who reside abroad, and who wish to be supplied with this Work every Mouth as published, may have it sent to them, free of Postage, to New-York, Halifax, Quebec, and to any Part of the West Indies, at £1 128. per Annum, by Mr. THORNHILL, of the Generat Post-Office, at No. 21, Sherborne-Lane; to Hamburgh, Lisbon, Cadiz, Gibraltar, Malta, or any Part of the Mediterranean, at £4 12s. per Annum, by Mr. SERJEANT, of the General Post-Office, at No. 22, Sherborne-lane; and to the Cape of Good Hope, or any part of the East Indies, by Mr. GUY, at the East-India House. The money to be paid at the time of subscribing, for either 3, 6, 9, or 12 months.

TO OUR READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS.

We earnestly solicit communications (post paid) from the professors of the arts in general, as well as authors, respecting works which they may have in hand. We conceive that the evident advantage which must accrue to both from the more extensive publicity that will be given to their productions through the medium of the Repository, needs only to be mentioned, to induce them to favour us with such information, which shall always meet with the most prompt attention.

W. G. is informed, that the Poetical Magazine has long been discontinued: his pieces will be returned on application to the publisher.

We shall be happy to receive the drawings alluded to by Mr. Gregson.

The highly interesting Memoirs of the celebrated Mozart are received, and will appear in our next.

Having received, through the kindness of Mr. Bennett, of Lloyd's Coffee-house, a drawing of the Military Columns intended to be erected at Moscow and Petersburg with the ordnance taken from the French during the last campaign, we shall next month present our readers with an engraving of these truly interesting monuments.

A Dabbler in Literature is assured, that The Debating Society shall have a place in our next publication.

Several poetical contributions are unavoidably deferred.

The Proprietor begs leave to remind such of his Readers as have imperfect sets of the Repository, of the necessity of an early application for the deficiencies, in order to prevent disappointment. Those who chuse to return their Numbers to the Publisher, may have them exchanged for Volumes in a variety of bindings, at the rate of 5s. per Volume.

THE

Repository

OF

:

ARTS, LITERATURE, COMMERCE,
Manufactures, Fashions, and Politics,
For OCTOBER, 1813.

The Fifty-eighth Kumber.

-The suffrage of the wise,

The praise that's worth ambition, is attain'd
By sense alone, and dignity of mind.

ARMSTRONG.

CONVERSATIONS ON THE ARTS.-By JUNINUS.

(Continued from p. 130.)

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MISS Eve. Do you know any || Warton, in his Essay on Pope, to have particulars of Sir John Suckling, been occasioned by the following the poet? circumstance: He was robbed by his valet de chambre; the moment he discovered it, he clapped on his boots in a passionate hurry, and perceived not a large rusty nail that was concealed at the bottom, which pierced his heel and brought on a mortification. His works, which were collected into one volume, consist of a few poems, chiefly songs, sketches, tracts, letters, and five plays.

Miss Eve. Will you give me a specimen of his songs?

Miss K. He was the son of Sir John S. comptroller of the household to King Charles I. and was born in 1609. He particularly cultivated music and poetry, and was universally allowed to be one of the most accomplished gentlemen of his time. In his youth he travelled on the Continent, where he made a campaign under the great Gustavus Adolphus: "and if his valour," says Langbaine, "was not so remarkable in the beginning of the civil wars, yet his loyalty was extremely conspicuous; for, at his of thee, kind boy, I ask no red and white, own charge, he raised a troop of horse for the king's service, so richly and completely mounted, that it is said to have cost him £12,000." But these troops and their leader distinguished themselves only by their finery. His death, which There's no such thing as that we beauty call, happened in 1642, is said by Dr. No. LVIII. Vol. X.

Miss K. Here is one on love.

To make up my delight,

No odd becoming graces,

Black eyes, or little know-not-whats in faces:
Make me but mad enough, give me good store

Of love for her I court,

I ask no more,

'Tis love in love that makes the sport.

It is mere cosenage all :

С с

For though some long ago Liked certain colours mingled so and so, That doth not tie me now from chusing new; If I a fancy take

To black or blue,

That fancy doth it beauty make.

'Tis not the meat, but 'tis the appetite Makes eating a delight;

And if I like one dish

More than another, that a pheasant is.
What in our watches, that in us is found,
So to the height and nick
We up be wound,

No matter by what haud or trick. His plays were performed at the private house in Blackfriars, where Apothecaries' Hall now stands. Miss Eve. Will you repeat another of Suckling's songs? Miss K.

Why so pale and wan, fond lover,

Prythee why so pale?

Will, when looking well cau't move her,
Looking ill prevail?
Prythee why so pale?

Why so dull aud mute, young sinuer,
Prythee why so mute?

Will, when speaking well can't win her,
Saying nothing do't?
Prythee why so mute?

Quit, quit for shame-this will not move,
This cannot take her:

If of herself she will not love,

Nothing can make her,

The devil take her!

Here is another of his sonnets on love:

Dost see how unregarded now

That piece of beauty passes?' There was a time when I did row

To that alone,

But mark the fate of faces:

The red and white works now no more on me,
Than if it could not charm, or I not see.

And yet the face continues good,
Aud I have still desires,

And still the self-same flesh and blood,

As apt to melt,

Aud suffer from those fires.

Oh! some kind power, unriddle where it lies, Whether my heart be faulty, or her eyes!

She ev'ry day her man does kill,

And I as often die;

Neither her pow'r then nor my will

Can question'd be;
What is the mystery?

Sure beauty's empire, like to greater states, Has certain periods set and hidden fates.

Shakspeare, just before his death, began a sonnet, which he left unfinished, in this manner:

One of her hands one of her cheeks lay under,
Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss,
Which therefore swell'd and seem'd to part
asunder,

As angry to be robb'd of such a bliss:
The one look'd pale, and for revenge did long;
The other blush'd cause it had doue the

wrong.

Out of the bed the other fair hand was

On a green satiu quilt, whose perfect white Look'd like a daisy in a field of grassThus far Shakspeare.

Miss Eve. Suppose we try to finish this sonnet. I will for amusement offer a prize for a competition of poets. The decision will divert us at some future time.

Miss K. Suckling thus continued it:

And shew'd like unmelt snow unto the sight.

There lay this pretty Perdue safe to keep
The rest o'th' body that lay fast asleep. ·

Her eyes (and therefore it was night) close laid,

Strove to imprison beauty till the morn; And yet the doors were of such fine stuff made, That it broke through and shew'd itself in

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knew its place, and the bounds of || among the trees of growth and verdure not to be expressed. They are acquainted with all the utmost mysteries of sound, and are possessed with the very soul of harmony. Art is their's in all its charming notes, its blandishments and graces. Whatever Nature can boast in her wild licentious charms, îs governed by them. The winding vales, the streams and groves breathe magic at their command. The nightingale and dying swan. seem to complain to gentle zephyrs, whispering through the trees; whilst a thousand airy songsters warble to the measured fall of high cascades, which by intervals sink

darkness were determined, before man was formed of the ground and the Almighty breathed into him a living soul. An immeasurable duration before this, the unlimited Creator had made and peopled milfions of glorious worlds: the inhabitants of that which I am describing, stood their probation, and we confirmed them in their original rectitude. They are exempt from all evil, blest to the height of their faculties and conceptions, and privileged with immortality. Their residence may properly be called the enchanted world: whatever you have heard fabled of fairy scenes, of vocal groves, and palaces risinging into a deep silence, after a to magic sounds, is all real here, grateful pause, shrill recorders and and performed by the easy and na- silver trumpets sound, while harmtural operations of these active spi-less thunders roll above and break rits. I have in an instant seen pa- with a glorious solemnity. Still laces ascend to a majestic height, the blissful tempest rises and swells sparkling as the stars and transpa-the mind to sacred grandeur and rent as the unclouded æther. I seraphic elevation, till subdued and might describe them like the court-melted into softness by the meloly prophet: "Their walls were fair colours, their foundations sapphire, the windows of agate, and the gates of carbuncle." Their materials are all glittering and refined, not, like the earthly globe, dark and heavy. These ætherials are the nicest judges of symmetry and proportion, and by the disposition of light and shadow, and the mixture of a thousand dazzling co-portioned their shapes! their aspect lours, form the most charming prospects. They have such a command and knowledge of the powers of nature, that, in an instant, they raise a variety of sylvan scenes, and carry their perspective though verdant avenues and flowery walks, to an immeasurable length; while living fountains cast up their silver spouts, and form glittering arches" ders."

dy of tuneful reeds, warbling lutes, and sweet enchanting voices of the Lydian strain. The language of this charming region is perfectly musical and elegant, and becoming the inhabitants, who are fair and rosy as the opening morn, clear as the meridian light, and fragrant as the breath of jessamine or newblown roses. How exquisitely pro

how transporting! how gentle, how charming, beyond all the race of mortal men! never did the eyelids of the morning open on such perfection, nor did the sun, since it first journeyed through the skies, behold such beauty; nor can human fancy, in its most inspired flights, conceive such amiable won,

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