modern, has been derived from accidents perfectly infignificant in themselves, and which owed their confequence merely to the adventitious circumftances of time, place, or occasion.

The bravery of that renowned war rior, the redoubted Achilles, as well as that of his still nobler and braver (because not invulnerable) adverfary, the gallant Hector, would never have reached our ears, if there had not happened to be a man born at Chios, Rhodes, Smyrna, Colophon, Argos, Salamis, or Athens, who from the lofs of his fight was deprived of any other means of obtaining the fine qua non of thofe, and indeed of all times, by any other method but that of chaunting forth the military exploits of the aforefaid heroes, in ftrains at once so sweet and fonorous, that they will in all probability be trumpeted down to our lateft pofterity, even till the last trump fhall filence all the Heralds upon earth.

The fame of thofe perfons already mentioned, as well as of all the illuftrious perfonages recorded in the Iliad, was alfo in a great measure owing to the romantic fpirit of thofe old-fashioned times, in which they had the advantage of being born. For if Madam Helen were alive at this day, and were to elope, as formerly fhe did, with Enfign Paris, her flight might, perhaps furnih a paragraph for the Morning Poft, but would not even roufe her Captain Manelaus to challenge her paramour to fingle combat, or fo much as inspire any of our ballad mongers to bewail her mifhap to the tune of the Lady's Downfall, So greatly are we improved of late in good fenfe, politenefs, and the true mode of fcavoir vivre, that thofe little peccadilos which our formal ancestors made fuch a fufs about, are treated by us, their wifer pofterity, merely en bagatelle.

The unlucky wife of Menelaus, then, is gibbeted to perpetual infamy, and hung up as a folitary fcare-crow for fchoolboys to hoot at, only for the fame of fence which my Lady, and Mrs. A, B, C, D, and fo on from Alpha to Omega, have committed, without leaving any records of their tranfgreffions, except what may be found in the Archives of Doctors Commons. Alas, poor Helen!

But tho' this fair Lady has been rather unkindly treated, by being handed down NOTE.

The names of the Seven Cities that claim the honour of Homer's Nativity,

to us as a fingle inftance of conjugal infidelity, I am apt to believe that Homer was a much more fingular character than Helen, and that there has been a greater fcarcity of fuch Poets, then of fuch wives, in all times, I ask pardon of my own, and every body elfe's Grandmother. As I have ventured thus boldly to fuppofe that there have been fome frail Dames whofe faults lie buried with them, I can as readily believe, that there have been many bright and fhining examples of conjugal and maternal virtue, in the fofter fex, whofe-" good has been interred with their bones."And though Arria and Portia had for ages ufurped the first female form in the temple of Fame till, Lord Lyttleton, in his elegant Dialogues of the Dead, with the justice of Minos, made these haughty Dames give place to, and own the fuperiority of, the mild Octavia: I am convinced there are alfo many others whose virtues might claim precedence, or, at least, an equal rank with either of those heroines

"Full many a gem of purest ray se

rene,

"The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear;

"Full many a flower is born to blush unfeen,

"And waste its sweetness on the defart air."

One proof is worth a thousand affertions; I fhall, therefore, relate a little ftory, which has been handed down by tradition in an Irish family of my ac quaintance; for, alas! that nation has not yet been bleife! with an Homer or a Tacitus to record its heroic deeds.

At the time of the late Civil Wars, about the year 1640, there lived in the county of Kilkenny, in Ireland, a Gentleman, of the name of Pansfield, who was defcended from an English family that had received a grant of fome lands in that country from Queen Elizabeth, which their induftry had improved to a good eftate. Some time before the era I have mentioned, this Gentleman had married the beautiful Elvina Butler, a near relation to the Ormond family, endowed with every grace and accomplishment that fuited her high birth. fpite of all the fair Elvina's charms, Mr. Pansfield was not happy in the poffeffion of them, nor fuffered her to be fo. He was diffatisfied at her not having children, and, while he indulged him

Yet,

felf

felf in the lowest amours, affected to be jealous of her fpotlefs conduct, and pure affection: thus were they fituated, when the fatal event of the Irish maffacre took place, in which fo many English Proteftants were deftroyed. The native Irish had naturally an averfion to all the English fettlers, but their general diflike was heightened into a peculiar hatred for Mr. Pansfield, from the unkindness of his treatment to his amiable wife.

Elvina had been brought up in the Roman Catholic religion. Mr. Pansfield had banished her Confeffor, and forbidden any Priest to enter his house. This was an aggravation of his former offences, and roufed the uncharitable zeal of bigotry fo highly against him, that he was marked for one of the first victims that was to be facrificed to the honour of their boly faith. They therefore determined to fet fire to his house at midnight, and deftroy him and all his Proteftant domeftics in the flames: Yet they wifhed to preferve Elvina; and for that purpofe fent a Prieft in difguife to warn her of fome approaching danger, and advife her on fome pretence or other to quit her houfe, that night.

The unfortunate Priest who was fent upon this embaffy, was met and difco vered by Mr. Pansfield, before he could make known his errand to Elvina. The enraged husband, either ftung with jealoufy, or affecting to be fo, fell upon the miferable Ecclefiaftic, and beat him fo unmercifully, that he died of his bruifes in a few days after; his fury then vented itfelf on his unhappy wife, whom he turned out of his houfe, and confined in a little fummer alcove in his garden, without any food except bread and water. Her imprisonment, however, was not of a long duration; for the night after, the door of her gaol was thrown open by the fame hand that fet fire to the dwelling-houfe, which the beheld in flames. Her lamentations for the unhappy fate of her undeferving hufband, whom he supposed to have perifed in the conflagration, filled the air, and affected even the hearts of those who planned his deftruction. "Her foul re fufed comfort," and the determined to devote the remainder of her days to forrow for his death, and to remain a voluntary prifoner, even in the very place to which his unjust and mistaken refentment had confined her.

The troubles that then raged through

all parts of Ireland, made her unhappy fituation lefs remarkable than it would have been in a calmer season, and the was fuffered to indulge her forrows alone, unmolefted by foes, and unaffifted by friends.

Those of her domeftices who had efcaped the flames, fled to distant parts for fafety, and but one faithful fervant only remained to fhare her miferies, for the had now fcarce any thing elfe to fhare; her lands were plundered, and her cattle ftolen; fo that the produce of her garden, and the milk of a cow, were all the fubfiftence that now remained to her and her attendant.

On the third night after this dreadful event, as fhe was fitting almost drowned in tears, the perceived, by the light of the moon, a man enter her little cell, whofe figure refembled her husband. Impreffed with the idea that it must have been his ghoft, the fell upon her knees before him, and folemnly protested the innocence of her pait life, and entreated his forgiveness for having, even involuntarily, offended him. But what was her furprize and joy, when he told her that he had escaped the horrid death his enemies defigned for him, and that he had remained for the last three days hid in the cave of Dunmore, which was about a quarter of a mile from his late dwelling houfe! He added, that he had fubfifted, during that time, upon the petrified water which hung round the cave; but no longer able to bear the agonizing pangs of hunger, he had refolved to meet that death he could not in his prefent fituation fhun; that he was then in her power, and that if the wifhed for vengeance on him fhe might give him up a facrifice to his foes.

With transport, far exceeding all defcription, fhe caught him in her arms, renewed her vows of love and duty to him, and inftantly flew to bring him fuch relief as her poor condition could furnish. They palled that night together, to her the happieft the had ever known, and at the dawn of day he retired again to his cave; at noon fhe vifited his lonely dwelling, and brought with her the beft fupply her fcanty means could yield; and he returned to her embrace at night.

Thus paffed several months in this anxious and clandeftine commerce together, when, to their mutual forrow, Elvina found herself with child. This additional circumftance of distress abated not her fond attention to her adored husband,

husband, though it rendered her daily attendance on him more difficult, and painful. Through rains, through fogs, through frofts and fnow, fhe daily waited on him, and nightly lighted up her neat abode with the bright fmiles of chearful innocence.

In the midft of this mixed fcene of happiness and woe, Elvina became the mother of a female child, a young Elvina, and both her joys and cares were doubled. The lovely infant drew its nourishment from that foft bofom which had denied herself almoft the neceflary fupport of life to cherish its loved father, who was now become the tenderest, best of husbands; as was Elvina, fpite of her distressful circumstance, the most con. tented of wives.

Two years and more had elapsed before Elvina's fituation became an object of attention, even to her nearest friends; the dreadful fcene of the maffacre was long fince over, but Ireland was ftill rent with inteftine commotions; the Royalifts and Parliamentarians were but new names for Perfecutors and Perfecuted; and each fide exchanged those titles, as their parties rofe, or fell.

But, notwith tanding the forms which had then overwhelmed that wretched land, Mr. Pansfield might have appeared again upon the ftage of life, and claimed his inheritance, if the death of the Priest whom he had facrificed to his illfounded fufpicion, had not subjected him to a criminal profecution, which he was certain would not only take place, but be carried on with the utmost malevolence againft him; particularly as the Royalifts, who were moftly Roman Catholics, were then in poffeffion of all the places of trust and power.

He therefore, at Elvina's earnest requeft, fubmitted to his fituation, and waited for more favourable times to make his fecond entrance into the world. Mean while, fhe was ftrongly importuned by many of her relations to quit her folitary abode, to fue for the recovery of Mr. Pansfield's fortune, and to live as became her ftation in the world.

In answer to their folicitations, fhe pleaded the vow fhe had made, at her hufband's death, of remaining a reclufe, in that spot which fhe had chofen, for the remainder of her days. Her friends were at length wearied out with her obftinacy, and left her to enjoy her folitude in peace. Mr. Pansfield's next

heir took poffeffion of his eftate, and allowed his fuppofed widow fome trifling pittance, with the poffeffion of her be loved retreat to dwell in.

The part of the country in which the lived, was almost uninhabited; she was therefore totally free from the reftraint of prying eyes; and cuftom had rendered the life they led lefs irksome than could well be imagined, both to Mr. Pansfield and Elvina; their apprehenfions with regard to his fafety every day grew lefs, and in the winter months he but feldom visited his former afylum in the cave.

When they had paffed about three years in this retirement,

"The world forgetting, by the world forgot,"

it happened that a Priest of a neighbouring parish, travelling over the plain of Dunmore, near Elvina's dwelling, in the winter, was overtaken by a violent fall of fnow, and fought for fhelter beneath her roof. He entered without ceremony, and, to his amazement, found Mr. Pansfield, the young Elvina and her mother, feated by their little fire. A fight like this would have affected any heart that was not rendered callous by bigotry. To fee even an enemy fallen from a happy ftate, and patiently fubmitting to misfortune, would foften even the moft obdurate mind, that was not tainted with the true Catholic zeal for vengeance upon heretics.

A defire of revenge, which he called juftice for his brother's blood, immediately poffeffed the Prieft; he thought proper, however, to stifle his refentment at the time; and on Elvina's imploring him on her knees to conceal the dif covery he had made, he promised fecrecy; and, when the form was over, departed, leaving his canting peace and benediction behind him.

That there is no faith to be held with heretics, is one of the tenets of the Mother Church, and our pious Priest was too good a fon to infringe his mother's precepts. He, therefore, fet out directly to the next Juftice of the Peace, and gave information against Mr. Pansfield, for the murder of the Priest whom he had killed on the day preceding the night in which his houfe was fet on fire; and not only directed the Juftice to the place where the culprit might be found, but became a voluntary convoy to the She

riff,

riff, and led him to poor Elvina's little peaceful cottage, before the break of day. They inftantly feized on Mr. Pansfield, who was incapable of making the leaft refiftance, while his lovely and diftracted wife, fnatching up her infant in her arms, fet forward with him to the County gaol. They lay there for fome months; and though during that time Elvina's friends and family made all the interest in their power to fave her husband's life, he was condemned to die at the following affizes.

Elvina had never quitted her husband during his confinement, but lay or fat by him, night and day, on the ground in his wretched cell. On the day preceding that which was fixed for his execution, he brought the young Elvina to her father, and bade him blefs, and take his leave of her. She then took the infant by the hand, and led her out of the prifon to a friend's house, to whofe care The bequeathed her darling child, and after many fond adieus returned to her husband's dungeon, with an air of more than common dignity and compofure; then feating herself by him, and taking his hand in hers, fhe thus addreffed him:

My Pansfield, you must die; the laws have doomed you; and tho' no malice armed your hand against the unhappy man whofe death you are answerable for, the laws of God require atonement: life for life is due; and may your mild fubmiffion to the ftroke of juftice, expiate the crime for which you are to fuffer, and all your other offences! Confidered in this light, Death is a little fine we pay for an exceeding great reward, an happy immortality - -But wherefore fhould the mode of paying that fmall penalty be rendered ftill more irksome to us, by being made the public gaze, the mark of vulgar fcorn, and leaving infamy entailed upon the innocent objects of our love?

Being compelled to die by the vile hands of common executioners, can it appear a voluntary act of expiation, or be received as an atonement for our crimes? I do not think it can. Let us ourselves inflict the punishment we have deferved, and by fo doing, prove our own fenfe of justice. The means are in my hands, I'll give them into yours. But first, this last embrace.Now let me try the weapon." Then drawing forth from its fheath a long fharp knife, which the Irish call a fkeen, fhe plunged it in her snowy bofom, funk ex

piring by her husband's fide; who inftantly drew the fatal fteel, and ftruck it to his heart.

Now tell me, gentle readers, does not this fair Hibernian dame, in nobleness of foul, by far surpass your Arria's and your Portia's? They died for husbands who had lived for them, and who alfo would have died to fave them. But my Elvina fhewed greater fortitude, even in her life, than they did in their deaths; she unrepining bore the harshest treatment from the man the loved, and afterwards preferred want, mifery and death, to wealth, to pleasure, and to life, without him. Yet no Hiftorian has blazoned her fame; no Poet, excepting an old Irish Harper, fung her praife! Luckless Elvina! not to have had thy virtues painted to fucceeding times, by fome abler pencil than that of an Irish Minstrel bard, or he whofe rude hand has now firft recorded thy virtues, recited from the traditionary tale in the family, and placed them under the lowly fhed of a fixpenny Magazine! Account of the Waterman, or, the Fir of Auguft.

A

New ballad opera of two acts called The Waterman, or, the First of Auguft, was performed at Mr. Foote's theatre, the 8th of August for the first time: the characters of which were, Tug, Mr. Bannifter. Bundle, Mr. Wilfon. Robin, Mr. Weston. Mrs. Bundle, Mrs. Thompson. Wilhelmina, Mrs. Jewell.

The ftory of the piece is fimply this. A gardener at Batterfea, honeft Bundle, is married to a termagant, who, by going with her goods to London market, has caught the town airs: in confequence of which fhe has given her daughter a hard name, Wilhelmina, in imitation of modern romances, and bred her up in affestation and falfe knowledge. A waterman, Tug, honeft and blunt; and a gardener, young Robin, made up of coxcombry and foppishness, pay their refpective addreffes to her. The first is favoured by the father, the latter by the mother; and, as" the grey mare is the better horfe," the game of cross-purposes is kept up for fome time, the girl now fiding with her father, and now with her mother. At length they find they have both been deceived by her, and after an explanation, the fairly tells them the will marry neither of the parties they

re

recommend, until one or other of them has done fomething to deferve her. The waterman in confequence of this declaration, rows for the coat and badge, wins them, and by that means obtains the girl. The gardener retires to marry Kitty Carrots, the mother is at length reconciled, and the piece concludes happily to all parties.

To criticife the literary merit of a ballad opera, with the fmalleft degree of feverity, would be abfurdity in the extreme. Such pieces are for the most part mere channels of conveyance to mufical found; and if there is nothing very ridiculous, obfcene, or improbable, in their fable or characters, they enfure an exiftence, provided the airs are tolerably pleafing. This is, in a general fenfe, the line to go by in paffing judgment on fuch compofitions as The Water

man.

The overture was pretty, but the reft of the mufic to this piece is rather a collection of pleasing airs than a new compofition. The favourite ballad tunes of Mr. Dibdin's compofing, which have been fung at the different public gardens, together with a few felect airs from different operas, form the whole of it, and taken all together, it has a confiderable fhare of merit. Some of the most favourite fongs we have inserted.

(For Songs in this Piece, Jee the Poetry.)

To be adjudged the 26th of Jan. 1775.

The improvement must have been begun fince the 25th of July 1765, at which time these premiums were firft offered.

Every claimant, at the time of his claiming, is to lay before the fociety the quality of the bog before reclaiming, the feveral methods he fhall have taken to reclaim it, and the depth and breadth of the drains he fhall have made: no perfons fhall be entitled to any premium, unless the depth of the bog before reclaiming fhall have been at least four feet from the furface to the bottom of the bog, and two feet after reclaiming, nor fhall any perfon receive more than one premium for the fame ground; every thing else alike, renters of land shall have the preference.

To entitle a claimant, to any of the foregoing premiums for the reclaiming of bog, so as that it may be in tillage or meadow, it must be made to appear to the Society, that the reclaimed bog has produced a crop of corn, or hay, or potatoes; and that the faid bog, before reclaiming, was not worth more, nor would fet to a folvent tenant for more than three fhillings yearly, per acre.

The society have engaged themselves to continue premiums to the fame amount, for the encouragement of reclaiming bog, for every year, to the year 1775, inclufive; and the premiums for reclaimed bog which fhall be in tillage or meadow the 25th of January 1776. in the year 1775, will be adjudged on

For the future, all claims of premiums from poor renters of land, for reclaiming bog, mountain, or moor, are to be lodg ed with the affiftant fecretary on or before the third Thursday in December, in every year, and no fuch claim fhall be received for that year after that day that all the faid claims be then referred to the committee for agriculture, who are then to meet thereon, and have power to fubdivide themselves into committees for each province, and to adjourn from time to time, but to close their report before the last day of January immediately following, fo as to lay it before the Zzz

foc