Who dared your rudely-painted limbs oppose Of Edward dared four monarchs to the fight; Say, holy Shades, did patriotic heat In your quick hearts with quicker transport beat Than in your sons, when forth, like storms, they pour'd, With Hawke who conquer'd, or with Wolfe who bled? Not so the patriot chief, who dared withstand The base invader of his native land; Who made her weal his noblest, only end; Ruled, but to serve her; fought, but to defend; Crowns with true glory and with spotless fame, Here let the Muse withdraw the blood-stain'd veil, Dear is the tie that links the anxious sire Nor wants firm Friendship holy wreaths to bind But not th' endearing springs that fondly move Not all the ties that kindred bosoms bind, Are half so dear, so potent to control These ties, that bids him for his country fall. Nor yet doth Glory, though her port be bold, She ne'er disdains the gentle vale of Peace, Where heaven-taught minds to woo the Muse resort, Where youths court science, or where sages teach; Bishop Butson. THREE ANECDOTES. SHENSTONE. SHENSTONE, the poet, was one day walking through his romantic retreats, in company with his Delia (her real name was Wilmot): they were going towards the bower which he made sacred to the ashes of Thomson. "Would to heaven," said Shenstone, pointing to the trees, "that Delia could be happy in the midst of these rustic avenues!" He would have gone on, but was interrupted. A person rushed out of a thicket, and, presenting a pistol to his breast, demanded his money. Shenstone was surprised, and Delia fainted. " Money,' said he, "is not worth struggling for: you cannot be poorer than I am. Unhappy man!" said he, throwing him his purse, "take it, and fly as quick as possible.' The man did so. He threw his pistol into the water, and in a moment disappeared. Shenstone ordered the foot-boy, who followed behind them, to pursue the robber at a distance, and observe whither he went. In two hours time the boy returned, and informed his master, that he followed him to Hales-Owen, where he lived; that he went to the very door of his house, and peeped through the key-hole; that, as soon as the man entered, he threw the purse on the ground, and, addressing himself to his wife, "Take," said he, "the dear-bought price of my honesty;" then placing two of his children, one on each knee, he said to them, "I have ruined my soul to keep you from starving;" and This tale of immediately burst into a flood of tears. distress greatly affected Shenstone. He inquired after the man's character, and found that he was a labourer, honest and industrious, but oppressed by want and a numerous family. He went to his house, where the man kneeled down at his feet, and implored mercy. Shenstone carried him home to assist at the buildings, and other improvements, which made himself so poor; and, when Shenstone died, this labourer bedewed his grave with true tears of gratitude. NELL GWYNN. The early part of the life of Eleanor Gwynn is little. known. Having a very pleasing voice, she used to go. from tavern to tavern, to amuse different companies with songs after dinner; this procured her an engagement at Drury-lane, where king Charles first saw her. She had her influence over him till not many hours before he died, for he begged the duke of York" to be mindful of poor Nell!" She resided at a splendid house in St. James's square, the back room of which, on the ground floor, was (within memory) covered with looking-glasses over the chimney was a beautiful picture of herself; in another room was that of her sister. In this house she died, in the year 1691, and was pompously interred in the parish church of St. Martin's in the Fields; Dr. Tennison, the then vicar, and finally archbishop of Canterbury, preaching her funeral sermon. The sermon was afterwards brought forward at court by lord Jersey, to impede the doctor's preferment; but queen Mary having heard the objection, answered, "Well! and what then? This I have heard before, and it is a proof that the unfortunate woman died a true penitent, who through the course of her life never let the wretched ask in vain.". THE DIFFERENCE OF AN OATH. The oath used among the Highlanders in judicial proceedings under the feudal system contained a most solemn denunciation of vengeance in case of perjury, and involved the wife and children, with the arable and the meadow land of the party who took it, altogether in one abyss of destruction. When it was administered, there was no book to be kissed, but the right hand was held up while the oath was repeated. The superior idea of sanctity which this imprecation conveyed to those accustomed to it, may be judged from the expression of |