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Gentleman's Magazine:

AND

Historical Chronicle.

From JANUARY to JUNE, 1819.

VOLUME LXXXIX.

(BEING THE TWELFTH OF A NEW SERIES.)

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LONDON: Printed by JOHN NICHOLS and SON,
at Cicero's Head, Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street;
where LETTERS are particularly requested to be sent, POST-PAID
And sold by J. HARRIS (Successor to Mrs. NEWBERY),
at the Corner of St. Paul's Church Yard, Ludgate Street;
and by PERTHES and BESSER, Hamburgh. 1819.

THE IPHIGENIA OF TIMANTHES,

The subject of the NEWDIGATE Prize at Oxford for 1819.

FANCY! fair, radiant, goddess of the Speechless her lips, yet resolute her eye,

In mute appeal for mercy to the sky:
E'en such a look sad Pity's self might

wear

skies,

Rob'd in the rifled rainbow's thousand dyes;

Thou, that of Eld so rapt Timanthes' view,
Reard'st the sad group his daring pencil
drew;

Say in what mould of unessential light
The vision'd pageant pass'd before his
sight;

What forms of veriest wretchedness up-Deep

rose,

In spectral train, and what, and which he
chose;

Bid pilfering Time again restore his prey,
And check the sacrilege of dark Decay.
First, where the foremost shed the pitying
'tear,
In sober sorrow stands the priestly seer;
Ulysses by, in unavailing woe,
Could almost dare to deprecate the blow;
And sorely Ajax proves his bosom wrung,
As passion'd pity thunders from his tongue,
While sorrow chasten'd Menelaus sighs,
His heart's full anguish gushing at his
eyes;

This is the throe that bleeding bosoms bear,
The scorpion-sting of desolate despair.

In sadder, stiller, prominence of pain, The silent princess proves resistance vain; Her conscious spirit owns the the godhead there, And chill conviction chains the tongue of prayer. Fixte and forlorn, in terror's breathless calm, Her big soul palpitates with mad alarm;

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It taught Diana's savage soul to spare.

But mark that form! amid the group
of grief,

In dumb distraction tow'rs the warrior
chief;

in his heart the father yearns to

spare,

But all the King repels the impulse
there;

Not his a struggle for the vulgar eye,
The dim eclipse of fearful majesty.
Consummate art! 'twas thine to veil his
woe,

To draw from Pity twice her wonted throe;
-Twas thine to shroud a monarch mortal's
face,

Ye mists, that from the valleys crowd,
The mountain hoary top enshroud,
Or on the tufted woods repose,
Till with fresh warmth all æther glows,
While thro' a flood of radiance wide,
The landscape smiles on every side!

YE zephyrs bland, at opening day

That on the rippling waters play!
Ye cheerful gleams of dawning light,
That chase the hovering shades of night,
O'er Ocean's level surface spread,
Gild the tall promontory's head,
Then, kindling with the Sun's first beam,
Shed lustre on the silver stream,
That glides in silence thro' the vale!
Ye flowers, which balmy sweets exbale,
And as ye blossom fresh and fair,
Perfume the circum-ambient air!
Ye meads, bright glistening with the dew,
Which decks each herb with verdure
new!

That grief might blend with grandeur and
with grace.

This! Aulis! this! we owe thy piteous
tale,

Of kings and princes turu'd in horror pale.
The deep tradition smote Timanthes' heart,
Till genius kindling call'd the aid of art,

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HYMN FOR SUMMER*.

1

Ye bending crops of full-ear'd corn,
Which many a gentle slope adorn,
Still waving like the restless deep,
As the light airs your surface sweep!
Ye fleecy flocks! ye lowing herds!
And
ye melodious singing birds,
That joyous hail the season gay,
Sporting on many a leaf-clad spray!
Glad influence join with one accord,
And teach me to confess the Lord!
Oh while I

I still adore,
Of blessings, may the rip'ning store
HIM who bestows my daily food,
And satisfies my soul with good!
Le So may my renovated joy,

To his just praise my song employ;
Nor be forgot the nobler prize,
His mercy sets before my eyes,
A crown of endless bliss above,
In the pure realms of Peace and Love.
June 1819.
M. CHAMBERLIN.

* Sequel to the Hymn for Spring See Gent. Mag for May last, p. 465.

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108

FIRST PART OF THE EIGHTY-NINTH VOLUME.

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WE are called upon, as usual, at the close of a Half-yearly Volume,

to open a new Season of our Literary Theatre, by a Prefatory Address. Of course, we must adopt a language suited to the occasion, and a costume adapted to the times. We must do what is indispensable in such situations-make fair promises, and be sure to keep them. We must summon confidence to appeal to the past, as a probable pledge of the future.

3

"11

"The object of Philosophy," says Stewart, "is to ascertain the Laws which regulate the succession of events, in order that, when called upon to act in any particular combination of circumstances, we may be able to anticipate the probable course of Nature from our past experience, and regulate our conduct accordingly." We know what has been ( repeatedly said about Plebophobia; but we are not convinced that the alarm is unsound. We think that there is one leading cause of our public vexations too extensive population. Our very virtues and also our vices augment the evil. This paradox is explained by Franklin. Industry and frugality, with an easy means of acquiring subsistence, are the leading causes of increasing population. But our manners are luxurious; and how much manners influence States, is evident from Switzerland and other countries, where there is not a greater sum expended in subsistence than ought to be consumed. Scotland, where the necessaries of life are as dear, or dearer than in London, yet where the people of all ranks marry, is a proof how manners operate on the numbers of a country. Thus we see how both rich and poor countries co-operate in the process of overstocking Nations and how much luxurious habits tend to render provision for the poor more difficult. ́ ́

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