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stated, that at the very period when he was enjoying the liberal favours of sir James Bland Burges, another source of bounty was opened to him in the kind attention of Mr. Pye, and the gentlemen who compose the acting committee of the Literary Fund society. An account of the proceedings of that liberal body with regard to the applications made in behalf of Dermody, and of the attention and kindness paid him by many of its distinguished members, is contained in the following letter; with which the author has been favoured by the reverend Mr. Yates of Chelsea-college, their amiable and learned secretary.

To Mr. Raymond, Chester-street,
Grosvenor-place.

" SIR,

"YOUR request respecting the particulars of the late Mr. Dermody's applications to the Literary Fund, being made after that

gentleman's decease, appears not to violate the standing regulation of the society, which requires that no disclosure or publication of name and circumstances should be made that may tend to wound the feelings of any beneficiary. I have therefore applied to Dr. Thomas Dale, one of the registrars, who has obligingly assisted me in examining the records of the fund.

"On the 15th May 1800 the following application from Mr. Dermody was laid before the committee; but a decision upon the case was deferred until Henry James Pye, esq. who had transmitted it, should be present.

SONNET,

ADDRESSED TO THE SUBSCRIBERS OF THE
LITERARY FUND.

FRIENDS of the muse! who, soft as heav'n's own dew,
The secret balm of noiseless bounty shed,

And, still to Genius as to Pity true,

Nurse the pale bay that withers on her head:

Oh! may a young advent'rer woo your aid,
Young, but undaunted in pursuit of fame;
Though, deep sequester'd in oblivious shade,
Rumour's loud tongue has scarcely caught his name?
Trust me, not void of sympathy his breast,
The finer movements of the mind to feel;
And ev'n when by innum'rous evils prest,
His timid sense those evils would conceal,
Did not your gen'rous band before him rise,
Who bless the hapless bard, unseen by vulgar eyes.

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"THE author of the preceding lines " (produced more for an introduction, than ⚫ for a specimen of poetical talent), having lately encountered many unforeseen and ' inevitable difficulties, not excepting even the distresses of a prison, and being at present unconscious of any other source whence he might expect immediate relief, ⚫ most humbly submits his case to the benevolence of those gentlemen who constitute 'the Literary Fund; sensible that they will "not deny to youthful emulation the re

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quisite assistance which may forward its

' attainment of celebrity more worthy of 'their future notice.

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"Had this excellent institution been of a more early date, inspired Poesy' would not so soon have lost her Collins, nor the literary world have wept in mysterious 'wonder over the disastrous fate of Chatter'ton. Individual patronage, however muni'ficent, must appear casual and confined, ❝ when compared to the liberality of a fund open to the appeal of every embarrassed 'child of Merit, unbiassed by the narrow 'views of party, and unalterable through • deviation of sentiment or critical opinion.

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"Should my encomium appear im'pertinently diffusive, the warmth of my 'admiration must plead for my apology; "nor could a refusal of my own personal application, if unworthy of redress, alter in the least my veneration for a society so truly philanthropic.

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"As my distress, though urgent, may ' be only temporary; and as I expect a work

⚫ of mine to appear shortly, which will give a 'more copious account of my life; I hope

the omission of a signature will not be ⚫ deemed culpable, or admit of exception; but in such case, the gentleman who has 'humanely undertaken to lay my paper 'before the board, will have the additional goodness to supply the necessary informa• tion.

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"I presume to copy another piece < (the shortest I can find), that it may some manner have the distinguishable traits of a poet's petition.'

SONNET,

AFTER READING PETRARCH'S LIFE.

ENAMOUR'D bard, whose constancy alone
Would call forth fame though tuneless were thy lyre;
Ah, with what harmony of plaintive moan
Did'st thou still watch and nurse thy Vestal fire!
By Vaucluse' springs methinks I meet thy shade,
Thy gentle shade so innocent of blame;
Still mourning for the loss of that dear maid,
While each low echo murmurs Laura's name.
VOL. II.

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