Confols, an old Stock-Broker, very vich, arrives in the village, accompanied by his clerk Policy, to whom he leclares, that his immenfe wealth rather makes him miferable than happy, and that he is refolved to part with fome of it to relieve the neceflities of the unfortunate. He enters the cotrage of George Howard, by whom he is kindly treated and relieved, Howard fuppofing him in diftrefs. In the mother of Howard, Confols finds a loft daughter, who, having been privately married to the father of Charles Merton, is involv. ed in diftrefs by his having neglected her, and married again. From thefe circumstances many interesting fitua tions arife. Merton becomes acquainted with his father's turpitude by means of a letter fuppofed to have been written with his dying hand, recommend. ing Mrs H. and her fon to his care. George Howard, incenfed at Merton's conduct to Mary Woodland, to whom he is himself ftrongly attached, challenges him: they meet, but are prevented fighting by an old fervant, who was in the fecret, and declares them to be brothers. Merton receives the hand of Emma Harvey, whilft Mary Woodland bestows her's on George Howard, and thus the piece concludes. This Comedy is the avowed production of Mr. ALLINGHAM, Author of two pleafant and popular After-pieces, called Fortune's Frolics, and 'Tis all a Farce. The conftruction of the Piece is fimple, and of genuine English growth; the incidents are pleafing and probable; the diction is, for the most part, natural and appropriate, often pathetic and brilliant ; and the fentiments are moral, manly, and impressive. The characters are well drawn; and, though poffeffing not very ftrong claims to originality, there is yet fomething like novelty in the parts of Tandem and Confols. Some good remarks on the subject of duelling occurred in one part of the piece; and in another the following paffage was much applauded: Emma Harvey, thinking very differently from her mcther, who views their distress with an eye of defpondency, comforts herfelf thus: Old age views only the dull and gloomy fide of the landscape, where nodding rocks and dreadful precipices threaten the timid traveller with deftruction; but my youthful fancy fees a delightful path, bedecked with fraggrant fhrubs and beauteous flowers, through which the Cherub Hope leads the pleased wanderer to happiness and joy." The performers throughout exerted their beft talents; the Piece was received with general approbation, and has fince continued to draw crowded houfes. The Prologue was fpoken by Mr. Dwyer, and the Epilogue by Mifs Mellon; but in neither did we discover any striking excellence. POETRY. TO THE EDITOR OF THE EURO- SIR, IN the poetical department of the XXXIXth volume of your Mifcellany, I endeavoured to give the Englith reader fome idea of "The Kifles of Joannes Dellius Rufticius, furnamed the Hermit."I have lately amufed myfelt in tranflating "The Tears" of the faine Author; a work written under peculiar circumstances of forrow. Thole readers who felt themselves interested in his affection for Julia, will not, I flatter myfelf, refuse to drop the tear of fympathy over the following Elegies. That learned comzentator Fuzzillius Bumguitus, whofe ingenious annotations were mentioned, and fome of them quoted, in my traníation of the "Bafia," informs us, that Joannes Dellius Rufticius, in the following Elegiac Poems, breathes no. thing more than the genuine feelings, of his heart. "It is a fimple tale of private woe (fays he); or, rather, the effufions of a mind under the preffure of calamity. It is, alfo, a tale of truth (continues cur venerable Critic); for neither in the order of infertion, nor in the emotions expreffed, is there a fingle deviation from that principle." A work written in the hour of affliction, under the fole hope of alleviating its effects on the heart, cannot be fuppofed See from February to May (inclufive) for 1801. to contain any adventitious ornaments to captivate the imagination. Of its language I have only to observe, that if it should not poffefs that elegance and harmony which characterises the productions of our first-rate Bards ; let the reader call to mind the following lines, from a poem, of which (Dr. Johnson says), “There is not a more fublime, or more elegant, funeral poem to be found in the whole compals of English literature. "Grief, unaffected, fuits but ill with art, Or flowing numbers with a bleeding heart." TICKEL, on the Death of Addison. I am not unmindful, Sir, that, amidst the almost unexampled fcenes of general calamity which now overwhelin Europe, tew are the individuals whole ftories are fufficiently interefting to attract public attention; and that the individual fufferings of one who exifted five hundred years fince cannot expect much fvmpathy. However, Sir, as the impreffion of national calamities often paffes away with the battle, or the ftorm that gave it birth, I am willing to hope that, during the paules which the Genius of Nations makes in her tale, there may yet be found fome moments, wherein the following Elegies may be perufed, without lefening the ftock of patriotifm, or stealing too much time from the performance of important duties, and more ufeful purfuits. IF nought but Fancy charms thee, Reader, fy! [ing fhell! Fly the dull founds of Grief's unvaryAh! Fancy never deigns to loiter nigh The gloomy cave where Sorrow's doom'd to dwelli The fated child of flow-confuming woe, In artlefs ftrains his mournful tale fhould fing; [flow, And, whilst he bids the plaintive numbers Strike, with the fofteft touch, the foothing ftring. The sky-lark's note, as, proud, the foars in air, [pair. Would ill exprefs poor Philomel's de ELEGY 1. Confined to bis Bed, in Confequence of an Accident which befel him very early in Life, the Author bewails his unhappy Situation. WITHIN a chamber's melancholy space, Behold a victim of Misfortune lies! Around his couch, fee many a grief-full face! [Pity rife! And, oh! what pray'rs from Love and Forbear, my friends, to weep! forbear! {own: Restrain, alas! each unavailing tear, To know thy forrows aggravates my And leave me, leave me, to lament alone! forbear! clofe the door! O leave me to repofe! -The weeping train, with ling'ring Heps, depart; [woes, now, in fecret, will I mourn my And vent the anguish of my bleeding And heart. mind, One little moment, from itself away! * This was written before the Preliminaries of Peace were signed. Come, plains! And all the anguish of my bofom tell. Farewell, ye verdant hills! ye blooming [fo pure! Ye fhadowy woodlands! and ye airs Farewell, ye village-maids! ye villagefwains! On the dear margin of my native Dure! Ah! parent Dure! no more I hear thee flow! [wave! My eyes no more behold thy waters No more, to 'fcape the fun's meridian glow, [lave! I plunge, delighted in thy ftream to Farewell, ye banks! where oft, at morning's dawn, [born child; I fought the rofe of fpring the firitOr, loitering o'er the daify-mantled lawn, Cull'd each fweet flow'ret for my gar land wild! Farewell, ye birds, on freedom's wings that rove! [brood; Ne'er did this hand moleft thy callow Ne'er hang the limed-twig in the vocal grove, [food! Nor pluck the berry Nature meant thy Farewell, my play-mates, in the meadow green! [there, My lov'd companions! ftill affembling 'Tis mine no more to fhare each sportive fcene, [care! With agile feet, and heart devoid of Ready Hymen foon faften'd the tie Ever bleft be the date of that year! Many fummers roll'd on full of joy ; Many winters that never were drear: And oft-times or a girl or a boy Gave delight to the date of the year. Bred in harmony, virtue, and truth, Happy faces around me appear; And the grateful affections of youth Prove a balm to the date of the year. While old friends, full of fenfe, taste, and knowledge, Sweeten life with attachment fincere; And the ftories of fchool and of college Seem improv'd from the date of the years Thus I've liv'd till my hair is grown TO THE SPRING. BY THE REV. R. HENNAH. WITH ว unfkill'd hand of late and feeble fting I fung the daily, harbinger of fpring; Whole head inclining to the folar ray, Greets the lone traveller on his weary [plain; way. Then filence reign'd o'er all the wat'ry Winter ftill check'd each little warbler's train: [ter'd vale; Mute was the grove, and mute the shelNo mingled concert floated in the gale. But now another fcene arrefts the ught; The helds look gay, the woods are all delight: From every hedge the felf-taught fongfters cheer, With hymns of gratitude the coming year. The linnet carols o'er the furze-clad hill; The blackbird's notes the neighbouring [throng, vallies fill; Penfive and flow, among the tuneful At intervals is heard the wood-dove's fong; And far above, deep buried in the fky, The lark's clear notes come foftened from on high: While Echo, to her favorite rocks retir'd, fpired. Thefe fcenes I'm deftin'd now to mourn, And o'er the world doom'd to wander; Yet ftill my thoughts will fondly turn When o'er my head rude billows roll, When loudly peals the awful thunder, And lightnings thwart twixt pole and pole, I'll think on thee when far afunder. And thrice adieu, dear lovely maid, To leave thee finks my bofom under A weight of grief, which nought can aid, Since now I'm forc'd from thee afunder. The birds fweet warb'led thro' the glade, And Finglen's ftream did gently mur mur, While on its fragrant banks we ftrayed, But now, alas! we're torn afunder: Enraptur'd, of't I've view'd thy charms, Admir'd thy lovely form with wonder, Thefe now may grace a rival's arms, When I am far from thee afunder. When lonely defert wilds I roam, While upon diftant fhores I wander, Reflection there will feal the doom My fears prefage when we're afunder. But may kind Angels, lovely fair, And he who wields the rolling thunder, Protect thee with unerring care, When thee and I are far afunder. And tho' on earth we must no more, But diftant from each other wander, May Heaven direct us to that shore, Where we thall meet, and never funder. Greenwich, 1803. B. N. ON THE DEATH OF A MUCH LAMENTED YOUTH, WHO DIED JUNE 11th, 1797. Written in 98. ND art thou gone, dear youth, thy early bloom Lies wither'd e're it well began to blow, Voy. XLIII. APRIL 1803. The 17th July, 1800. THIS lofty fpire, these ancient walls, |