All the chocolate too, that my lord set before 'em, Sweet were the strains, as odorous gales that blow O'er fragrant banks, where pinks and roses grow. The peer was quite ravished, while close to his side Sat Lady Bunbutter, in beautiful pride! Oft turning his eyes, he with rapture surveyed Oh! had I a voice that was stronger than steel, Should talk a great deal, but they never should eat : You may spend all your lifetime in Cateaton Street, You may go to Carlisle's, and to Almack's too; So when we had wasted more bread at a breakfast Than the poor of our parish have ate for this week past, I saw, all at once, a prodigious great throng Just to follow the employments and calls of the day; For whether some envious god had decreed And I left all the ladies a-cleaning his coat. MRS THRALE. MRS THRALE-afterwards Mrs Piozzi-who lived for many years in terms of intimate friendship with Dr Johnson, is authoress of an interesting little moral poem, The Three Warnings, which is so superior to her other compositions, that it has been supposed to have been partly written, or at least corrected, by Johnson. This lady was a native of Wales, being born at Bodville, in Caernarvonshire, in 1740. In 1764 she was married to Mr Henry Thrale, an eminent brewer, who had taste enough to appreciate the rich and varied conversation of Johnson, and whose hospitality and wealth afforded the great moralist an asylum in his house. After the death of this excellent man, his widow married Signior Piozzi, an Italian music-master, a step which Johnson never could forgive. The lively lady proceeded with her husband on a continental tour, and they took up their abode for some time on the banks of the Arno. She afterwards published a volume of miscellaneous pieces, entitled The Florence Miscellany, and afforded a subject for the satire of Gifford, whose Baviad and Maviad was written to lash the Della Cruscan songsters with whom Mrs Piozzi was associated. The Anecdotes and Letters of Dr Johnson, by Mrs Piozzi, are the only valuable works which proceeded from her pen. She was a minute and clever observer of men and manners, but deficient in judgment, and not particular as to the accuracy of her relations. Piozzi died at Clifton in 1822. The Three Warnings. The tree of deepest root is found Least willing still to quit the ground; 'Twas therefore said by ancient sages, That love of life increased with years So much, that in our latter stages, When pains grow sharp, and sickness rages, The greatest love of life appears. This great affection to believe, Which all confess, but few perceive, If old assertions can't prevail, Be pleased to hear a modern tale. When sports went round, and all were gay, On neighbour Dodson's wedding-day, Death called aside the jocund groom With him into another room, And looking grave-You must,' says he, "Quit your sweet bride, and come with me.' "With you! and quit my Susan's side? With you!' the hapless husband cried; "Young as I am, 'tis monstrous hard! Besides, in truth, I'm not prepared : My thoughts on other matters go; This is my wedding-day, you know.' What more he urged I have not heard, His reasons could not well be stronger; So Death the poor delinquent spared, And left to live a little longer. 19 51 Mrs Yet calling up a serious look, His hour-glass trembled while he spoke- And grant a kind reprieve; Well pleased the world will leave.' What next the hero of our tale befell, He chaffered, then he bought and sold, Nor thought of Death as near: He passed his hours in peace. Brought on his eightieth year. Half-killed with anger and surprise, 'Tis six-and-thirty years at least, And you are now fourscore.' 'I know,' cries Death, 'that at the best, I seldom am a welcome guest; But don't be captious, friend, at least; I little thought you'd still be able To stump about your farm and stable : Your years have run to a great length; I wish you joy, though, of your strength!' 'Hold!' says the farmer; 'not so fast! I have been lame these four years past.' 'And no great wonder,' Death replies: 'However, you still keep your eyes; And sure to see one's loves and friends, For legs and arms would make amends.' An allusion to the illegal warrant used against Wilkes, which was the cause of so much contention in its day. The REV. THOMAS MOSS, who died in 1808, minister of Brierly Hill, and of Trentham, in Staffordshire, published anonymously, in 1769, a collection of miscellaneous poems, forming a thin quarto, which he had printed at Wolverhampton. One piece was copied by Dodsley into his Annual Register, and from thence has been transferred -different persons being assigned as the authorinto almost every periodical and collection of fugitive verses. This poem is entitled The Beggarsometimes called The Beggar's Petition-and contains much pathetic and natural sentiment finely expressed. The Beggar. Pity the sorrows of a poor old man! Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your door, Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span; These tattered clothes my poverty bespeak, Yon house, erected on the rising ground, (Hard is the fate of the infirm and poor!) Oh! take me to your hospitable dome, Keen blows the wind, and piercing is the cold! Short is my passage to the friendly tomb, For I am poor, and miserably old. Should I reveal the source of every grief, If soft humanity e'er touched your breast, Your hands would not withhold the kind relief, And tears of pity could not be repressed. Heaven sends misfortunes-why should we repine? A little farm was my paternal lot, Then, like the lark, I sprightly hailed the morn; But ah! oppression forced me from my cot; My cattle died, and blighted was my corn. My daughter-once the comfort of my age! My tender wife-sweet soother of my care! And left the world to wretchedness and me. Pity the sorrows of a poor old man! ously perused the Greek poets and historians. In his nineteenth year, Jones accepted an offer to be private tutor to Lord Althorp, afterwards Earl Spencer. A fellowship at Oxford was also conferred upon him, and thus the scholar was relieved from the fear of want, and enabled to pursue his favourite and unremitting studies. An opportunity of displaying one branch of his acquirements was afforded in 1768. The king of Denmark in that year visited England, and brought with him an eastern manuscript, containing the life of Nadir Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your Shah, which he wished translated into French. door, Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span; Oh! give relief, and Heaven will bless your store. SIR WILLIAM JONES. 'It is not Sir William Jones's poetry,' says Mr Southey, 'that can perpetuate his name.' This is true: it was as an oriental scholar and legislator, an enlightened lawyer and patriot, that he earned Sir William Jones. his laurels. His varied learning and philological researches he was master of twenty-eight languages-were the wonder and admiration of his contemporaries. Sir William was born in London in 1746. His father was an eminent mathematician, but died when his son was only three years of age. The care of educating young Jones devolved upon his mother, who was well qualified for the duty by her virtues and extensive learning. When in his fifth year, the imagination of the young scholar was caught by the sublime description of the angel in the tenth chapter of the Apocalypse, and the impression was never effaced. In 1753 he was placed at Harrow School, where he continued nearly ten years, and became an accomplished and critical classical scholar. He did not confine himself merely to the ancient authors usually studied, but added a knowledge of the Arabic characters, and acquired sufficient Hebrew to read the Psalms. In 1764 he was entered of University College, Oxford. Here his taste for oriental literature continued, and he engaged a native of Aleppo, whom he had discovered in London, to act as his preceptor. He also assidu Jones executed this arduous task, being, as Lord Teignmouth, his biographer, remarks, the only oriental scholar in England adequate to the performance. He still continued in the noble family of Spencer, and in 1769 accompanied his pupil to the continent. Next year, feeling anxious to attain an independent station in life, he entered himself a student of the Temple, and, applying himself with his characteristic ardour to his new profession, he contemplated with pleasure the 'stately edifice of the laws of England,' and mastered their most important principles and details. In 1774, he published Commentaries on Asiatic Poetry, but finding that jurisprudence was a jealous mistress, and would not admit the eastern muses to participate in his attentions, he devoted himself for some years exclusively to his legal studies. A patriotic feeling was mingled with this resolution. Had I lived at Rome or Athens,' he said, 'I should have preferred the labours, studies, and dangers of their orators and illustrious citizens-connected as they were with banishment and even death-to the groves of the poets or the gardens of the philosophers. Here I adopt the same resolution. The constitution of England is in no respect inferior to that of Rome or Athens.' Jones now practised at the bar, and was appointed one of the Commissioners of Bankrupts. In 1778, he published a translation of the speeches of Isæus, in causes concerning the law of succession to property at Athens, to which he added notes and a commentary. The stirring events of the time in which he lived were not beheld without strong interest by this accomplished scholar. He was decidedly opposed to the American war and to the slave-trade, then so prevalent, and in 1781 he produced his noble Alcaic Ode, animated by the purest spirit of patriotism, and a high strain of poetical enthusiasm. He was appointed one of the judges of the supreme court at Fort William, in Bengal, and the honour of knighthood was conferred upon him. He married the daughter of Dr Shipley, bishop of St Asaph; and in April 1783, in his thirty-seventh year, he embarked for India, never to return. Sir William Jones entered upon his judicial functions with all the advantages of a high reputation, unsullied integrity, disinterested benevolence, and unwearied perseverance. In the intervals of leisure from his duties, he directed his attention to scientific objects, and established a society in Calcutta to promote inquiries by the ingenious, and to concentrate the knowledge to be collected in Asia. In 1784, his health being affected by the climate and the closeness of his application, he made a tour through various parts of India, in the course of which he wrote The Enchanted Fruit, or Hindoo Wife, a poetical tale, and a Treatise on the Gods of Greece, Italy, and India. He also studied the Sanscrit language, being unwilling to continue at the mercy of the Pundits, who dealt out Hindoo law as they pleased. Some translations from oriental authors, and original poems and essays, he contributed to a periodical established at Calcutta, entitled The Asiatic Miscellany. He meditated an epic poem on the Discovery of England by Brutus, and had matured his design so far as to write the arguments of the intended books of his epic, but the poem itself he did not live to attempt. In 1789, Sir William translated an ancient Indian drama, Sacontala, or the Fatal Ring, which exhibits a picture of Hindoo manners in the century preceding the Christian era. He engaged to compile a digest of Hindoo and Mohammedan laws; and in 1794 he translated the Ordinances of Menu, or the Hindoo system of duties, religious and civil. His motive to this task, like his inducement to the digest, was to aid the benevolent intentions of our legislature in securing to the natives, in a qualified degree, the administration of justice by their own laws. Eager to accomplish his digest, Sir William Jones remained in India after the delicate health of Lady Jones compelled her departure in December 1793. He proposed to follow her in the ensuing season, but in April he was seized with inflammation of the liver, which terminated fatally, after an illness of one week, on the 27th of April 1794. Every honour was paid to his remains, and the East India Company erected a monument to his memory in St Paul's Cathedral. The attainments of Sir William Jones were so profound and various, that it is difficult to conceive how he had comprised them in his short life of forty-eight years. As a linguist, he has probably never been surpassed; for his knowledge extended to a critical study of the literature and antiquities of various nations. As a lawyer, he had attained to a high rank in England, and he was the Justinian of India. In general science, there were few departments of which he was ignorant: in chemistry, mathematics, botany, and music, he was equally proficient. With respect to the division of his time, Sir William Jones had written in India, on a small piece of paper, the following lines: Sir Edward Coke: Six hours in sleep, in law's grave study six, Four spend in prayer-the rest on nature fix. Rather: Seven hours to law, to soothing slumber seven, The poems of Sir William Jones have been collected and printed in two small volumes. An early collection was published by himself, dedicated to the Countess Spencer, in 1772. They consist of a few original pieces in English and Latin, and translations, from Petrarch and Pindar; paraphrases of Turkish and Chinese odes, hymns on subjects of Hindoo mythology, Indian Tales, and a few songs from the Persian. Of these, the beautiful lyric from Hafiz is the most valuable. The taste of Sir William Jones was early turned towards eastern poetry, in which he was captivated with new images, expressions, and allegories, but there is a want of chasteness and simplicity in most of these productions. The name of their illustrious author 'reflects credit,' as Campbell remarks, 'on poetical biography, but his secondary fame as a composer shews that the palm of poetry is not likely to be won, even by great genius, without exclusive devotion to the pursuit.' *As respects sleep, the example of Sir Walter Scott may be added to that of Sir William Jones, for the great novelist has stated that he required seven hours of total unconsciousness to fit him for the duties of the day. An Ode, in Imitation of Alcaus. What constitutes a state? Not high-raised battlement or laboured mound, Not cities proud with spires and turrets crowned; Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride; With powers as far above dull brutes endued As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude; But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain, And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain: And sovereign Law, that state's collected will, Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill; And e'en the all-dazzling Crown Such was this heaven-loved isle, Than Lesbos fairer, and the Cretan shore! Shall Britons languish, and be men no more? Those sweet rewards, which decorate the brave, 'Tis folly to decline, And steal inglorious to the silent grave. A Persian Song of Hafiz. Sweet maid, if thou wouldst charm my sight, Boy, let yon liquid ruby flow, Oh! when these fair perfidious maids, In vain with love our bosoms glow: Can all our tears, can all our sighs, New lustre to those charms impart? Can cheeks, where living roses blow, Where nature spreads her richest dyes, Require the borrowed gloss of art? Speak not of fate: ah! change the theme, |