means by which I could get rid of these importunate rascals: I walked on, thinking,

"Beatus ille est quid procul oppido."

But I was soon roused from my reverie, by a sweep with a soot-bag running against me, who, as regards my trowsers, fully completed what the scavenger had begun.

In this plight I turned homeward, heartily ashamed of myself, and cursing the author of this accident, when my progress was impeded by a great crowd, flocking round a shop-window: anxious to know what it was that had struck their attention so forcibly, I stopped likewise; and discovered that it was a print-shop, in the window of which was exhibited a new caricature of an Exquisite; upon whom, as he alighted from a coach, a ragged fellow had just sent a handful of mud, which was intended for one of his companions. His condition was similar to my own; and as soon as the gazing multitude saw my distressed habiliments, a loud laugh was raised against me; and, as I jostled through the crowd, I heard sundry coarse jokes cut upon my unfortunate person by the highly-amused rabble. But to add to my mortification, just as I had escaped from the crowd, I saw, on the other side of the street, Lady Emily and Miss Montague, whom I was obliged to cut, although I wished particularly to speak to them. I then looked at my watch; it was half-past five, and we dined at six: being at that time no less than a mile from home, and convinced that it would take me no little time to arrange my disordered dress, I hastily essayed to cross, but was prevented by a long train of coaches, which, after some time, passed by; but, as I was impatiently waiting on the pavement, I was witness to a sight which convinced me that many might meet with a worse fate than myself; for, as a poor imbecile old man was about to cross the road, he was knocked down by a cart which was driven furiously by, and the wheel passing over his leg, fractured it so as to cause amputation necessary. The sufferer was

conveyed to the hospital, and I walked hastily home, thoroughly disgusted with what I had seen, and reached my friend's house, at Portman Square, just as every one had despaired of my arrival in time for dinner; and, in answer to the many enquiries respecting my non-appearance at an earlier hour, I, at dinner, recounted my adventures, and joined heartily in the laugh that was raised against me.

RUSTICUS.

HOPE SPRINGS ETERNAL IN THE HUMAN

BREAST.

POPE.

What rank, what condition is there amongst men, which feels not the sovereign influence of hope? How numerous and inexhaustible are its sources! What pains, what sufferings, do we not cheerfully endure, while hope sheds over us its benign and encouraging smile!Stretched on the bed of sickness and misery, the wasted wretch fondly anticipates his recovery and restoration to his former enjoyments. For what reason does the sailor undergo so many hardships? The sweet hope of returning to his native land, blest with glory and riches, bears him up, as it were, and raises his drooping spirits in every danger. Hope reigns universally: it is not a blessing confined to one country only-it is a gift from heaven; the peasant shares his benefits equally with the monarch. It comes borne aloft on snowy pinions over the various troubles of this world, bringing, in its train, a fancied host of honours and riches; for, alas! they seldom prove real. The fond mother, with joyful anticipation, looks forward to the time when her new-born infant will prove a blessing and a comfort to her, as she is declining in the vale of years. It is this which dictates her exertions; this which solaces her during the many privations to which, for his sake, she subjects herself. Hope is the lamp which lights up the path of wretched mortals, during their sojourn in this transitory

D

world. It is divine hope which enables us to bear up against persecution, affliction, and adversity; which fluctuates in our breasts until the vital spark is fled.

"The dying sinner hopes to be forgiven,
Th' expiring Christian hopes to sit in heaven."

SPERO.

INTRODUCTORY TO A BOOK,

ENTITLED

A COLLECTION OF LOYAL POETRY."

Reader, whoe'er perchance thou art, revere
The spirit-stirring verse recorded here.
Awake! be firm! nor let th' indiff'rent look
Of lukewarm eye, peruse this sacred book.
Here nature's language, free from studied art,
Appeals, resistless, to each feeling heart;
Bids it, with firmness, meet th' impending shock
Of hostile arms; or calmly view the block,
Whene'er thy country, join'd in martial strife,
Or civil discord, needs thy proffer'd life.

Dost thou, say reader, with emotion feel
Thy liveliest interest in thy country's weal?
Dost thou her actions mark, her counsels scan,
And proudly claim the name of Englishman?
Dost thou exult (ne'er sure was better cause)
In Britain's commerce, and old England's cause:
Oh! art thou proud of her immortal name,
That sum and crisis of all human fame ?
Thou wilt, indeed, this little book revere,
The theme of all in life thou holdest dear.

When Britain's sons subject th' insulting foe,
With thrilling transport does thy bosom glow?
And when thou hast, with wond'ring fervor, read
Of how our sires have fought, our heroes bled,

Dost thou not grieve thy absence from the fight,
When freedom's children fought for freemen's right?
Oh! art thou proud inheritance to claim
In all their suff'rings, as in all their fame?
Hast thou mark'd England, from the very time
When the great Julius sought her western clime,
And forthwith left her (vain the darts he hurl'd)
Sole unsubjected spot of all the world?
Mark'd her in times of peace, in civil broil,
In wealth, in want, security, and toil;
When fell disgrace has been her bitter blight,
Or, as she stood on glory's tow'ring height ?
In all these changes did she seem the while
Thy heart's delight, thine own, thy native Isle;
At naming which the liveliest thoughts would come,
Of all that's dear to man, combin'd in home?

Does sound of George's name thy breast inspire With a clear, warm, enthusiastic fire,

That bids thee brave the sword, the foe, the stake,
Thy life to forfeit for thy monarch's sake?
If Slander durst at him her breath to vent,
Would'st thou the insult, as thine own, resent;
And stand, if Treason lurk'd around the throne,
Foremost, in his defence, as in thy own?

Yet while thou lov'st him thus with filial zeal,
The Royal Guardian of thy country's weal,
And hailest, e'en his name, with sacred awe,
Should he, though king, insult Britannia's law,
And, mad with splendor, or outborne by might,
Break through that hallow'd shrine, a Briton's right;
To harm the poorest peasant of the land,
Dar'st thou to snatch the sceptre from his hand,
And bid admiring worlds in wonder see,

A Briton's foremost wish is to be free?

Are these thy patriot thoughts, thou may'st indeed,
Aye, and thou wilt, with pride, this volume read;
And ev'ry page that fervor will impart,
Which ardent springs in ev'ry patriot heart.
In other climes if thou canst feel delight,
And be unconscious of a Briton's right;

If thou a country elsewhere wouldest find,
Where place or space could to thy captive mind
Supply, as England can, that peaceful home,
Where none who knows the name of foe dares come:
Oh! canst thou bid adieu to all that's brave,
Content to wear the chains that gall the slave :
If thou canst live, and bend the servile knee

In abject fawning to curst tyranny,

To aught, in fact, but Heaven, and Britain's throne, Of such, for such there are, if thou art one,

Oh

may these pages in thy breast inspire

A Briton's soul, a Briton's patriot fire,

And teach thee, whatsoe'er thy lot may be,

"To live a man, and breathe an air that's free."

HAROLD.

A DREAM.-AN ALLEGORY.

I dreamt I saw a lovely maiden's form
And face adorn'd with every virgin charm;
Resplendent o'er my couch it kindly bent
And honey'd accents, from a blissful tongue,
Were mingled in my dream: I thought I heard
Of joy, and love, and great beatitude;
And round my couch, a host of cherubim
Flutter'd, and call'd the maiden Happiness!"
I stretch'd my hand to reach the fancied form;
It fled my grasp: but, in its stead, I held
Another shape, curst, as was th' other blest:
Wan were its looks-lean, lank, and long its form;
And, darkly from their sockets, glar'd its eyes:
I sought to shake the loathsome figure off,
It held me still, retentive of its hold,
Whilst round my room ten thousand demons danc'd,
And, wildly laughing, shriek'd out" Wretchedness.”

A.