For violets soft, and daffodils, sweet flow'rs,
The soil sharp thorns and prickly thistles pours.
Ye shepherd swains, the crystal fountains shade,
Let mournful cypress deck the flow'ry glade,
With verdant leaves the lonely pastures strew,
By Daphnis claim'd, these sacred rites are due.
For him a tomb with hands obsequious raise,
And let these lines record his lasting praise :
"Here I the lovely blooming Daphnis lie,
"In woods renown'd-renown'd above the sky:
"The fairest flocks I kept; delightful care!
"Yet I beyond that beauteous flock was fair."

MENALCAS.

Oh bard divine! as sweet thy tuneful strains,
As sleep to hinds fatigu'd in flow'ry plains;
Or to the thirsty swain cool bubbling streams,
When pastures glow with summer's sultry beams.
Not on the pipe great Pan excels your song,
Nor with his voice more charms the rural throng;
You, happy boy, consign'd to endless fame,
Next sacred Pan the heav'nly bays shall claim.
Now to the skies let me your Daphnis raise,
And crown his merits with alternate praise,
For Daphnis' love demands my sweetest lays.

MOPSUS.

What happier task can you, dear youth, pursue?
For to the boy these tuneful notes are due ;
These notes, admir'd by all the sylvan train,
And Stemicon approved the moving strain.

MENALCAS.

But see, fair Daphnis mounts with glad surprise
O'er clouds and stars, above the lofty skies;

}

Hence pleasure reigns thro' all the fields and shades,
And charms great Pan, the swains, and sylvan maids.
On flocks no more the wolves shall lurking prey,
Nor secret foils the timid deer betray;

Dire scenes of blood no more infest the groves
For peaceful days the heavenly Daphnis loves.
The desart hills in joyful raptures sing,
The rocky wilds to heaven in concert ring;
A God! a God! the forests shout around,

The groves, the banks, repeat the pleasing sound.
Oh! hear your swains, and four bright altars view;
To Phœbus two, and two fair youth to you;
Two frothing bowls of new milk you shall share,
And two rich jars of oil, our yearly care.

The feast we'll crown with Bacchus' purple stores,
Like Nectar pure from Chiar's flow'ry shores;
In winter, round the fire we'll sacrifice ;—
In cooling shades, while summer warms the skies,
Here shall Damoetas sing melodious strains,
And Lyctian Ægon charm the list'ning swains;
Alphesiboes lead the dance along,

And skip like satyrs in the chearful throng;
Both when the nymphs our solemn rites we pay,
And when glad victims round the fields convey;
While boars hills top, while fish the water love,
While painful bees for fragant thyme shall rove,
While locusts on the silver dews shall feed,

So long your honor, name, and praise shall spread.
To you the hinds their sacred rites shall pay,
And solemn vows proclaim your heavenly sway;
As Bacchus' self, and Ceres, you shall share
The yearly tribute of each shepherd's prayer.

MOPSUS.

What gifts, great favourite of the tuneful throng,
Can recompence thy sweet, thy heav'nly song?
Not southern gales soft dying on the trees,
Not shores resounding with the gentlest seas,
Not streams which through the pebbly valley play,
Can charm the soul like thy enchanting lay.

MENALCAS.

But this small pipe I first on you bestow,
Which played poor Corydon's sad am'rous woe;
The same that warbled with a tuneful air.
Ho! are these Melibus' flocks declare.

MOPSUS.

And this small hook I give you in return,
Clear brazen studs its tap'ring length adorn;
In vain Antigenes to gain it strove,

And he, dear youth, deserv'd each shepherd's love.

Refulgent summer disclosed a brightening prospect all around, and with joy we viewed the laughing world. In the morn we imbibed the blissful fragrance; in the mid-day hours reclined under the shady grove; and in the evening tasted the sublimity of darkening nature. Oft we visited the surrounding cots-oft we held pleasing converse with

the humble sons of contentment, and were not unfrequently struck with admiration at the depth of their reasoning, and the ardent, yet untutored sagacity of their minds. We one morning entered the cot of

Arlonda; a variety of old mathematical instruments lay in every corner. Arlonda divested himself of a kind of severity which dwelt on his forehead when first we entered the dwelling, and soon displayed wonderful powers of mind: treating on history and astronomy, his knowledge expanded, and burst out like the torrent*; he even expatiated with such warmth, that his imagination outstepped the bounds of human ken; the poor gentleman descanted on history and the planetary system till his mind became

A true portrait of the author of " Modern Europe." The work to which we allude may fairly be ranked amongst the best historic productions now extant. It is written with much animation, and forms a learned and suitable continuation to Gibbon's Roman Empire. It is besides a work that embraces a vast field for political and moral disquisition. Our author was certainly a very eccentric character. He was educated for the law, and in this profession distinguished himself; but finding that it interfered too much with his literary studies, he left Grey's Inn, and retired to a snug villa situate on the banks of the Esk. It was here he composed several valuable treatises, and some beautiful pieces of poetry. His was a genius of no common ability. His reasoning and his descriptive faculties were of the first order. His writings are distinguished by a fund of erudition, an elegance of diction, and a flowing emanation of genius. Russell died about ten years ago, and for seve ral years prior to his death seemed to labour under symptoms of mental derangement, similar to those which added unhappiness to the poet Cowper.

totally immersed in speculative error: with difficulty we calmed his distemper. We afterwards learned that astronomy, history, and poetry, often called forth the energy of his mind in such a manner, that in his flights of fancy every thing fell prostrate before him, amongst the rest the instruments appertaining to the sciences.

"Yet patience, labouring to beguile his care,
"Seems to raise hope, and smiles away despair."

THE FISHERMAN

Dwelt in a little hovel by the river side; patience was pictured in his features, indolence in his gait, industry in his front, and in his eye anticipation. Unacquainted with letters, unskilled in artifice, save in the line of his profession; mild in his nature, though a natural advocate for liberty. He had a wife and three little ones. Mary was thrifty as well as faithful; by spinning she procured some few luxuries, but then her "humble wishes never learned to stray." It was her sole pride to nourish with tenderness her infants; to have a clean hearth, a sparkling fire, and at church to appear decent. Oh! cursed ambition, was it not for thee we should all of us travel placidly through the valley of life; war would cease to devastate, and angelic peace wanton on the plain.