uttered upon her death bed are so interesting as to constrain us to transcribe the following address to a companion, who was a dupe to the same false principles with herself. 6 'firm adherence to the doctrines we have despised! If, like them, I had 'been taught to devote the actions of every day to my GoD, and instead of encouraging a gloomy and queru'lous discontent against the present 'order of things, had employed my'self in a vigilant performance of the 'duties of my situation, and a scruIpulous government of my own heart • and inclinations, how very different would my situation now have been f Think of these things, Bridgetina, ' and if ever you should meet withbut I will not disturb the serenity of 'my soul by mentioning his name.---Yet why I carry not with me any ' resentments to the grave. Tell Val'laton, then, that as a christian I for "You tremble, my dear!' said Julia. Does it then so greatly shock you to see me thus? Ah, Bridgetina! could I indeed impress you with a 'sense of what my mind now feels, ⚫ should not die in vain. You see me now on the threshold of eternity that eternity, of which we have 'made a jest, but which we must acknowledge was never by an argu'ment to a certainty disproved; improbable we were taught to believe it, but impossible by mere man it 'could never be pronounced. I am now convinced, oh! thoroughly 'convinced, of its awful truth. I believe that I shall, ere the lapse of many hours, appear before the throne of God! that God whose will I have despised, whose providence 'I have arraigned, nay, whose verytion, that were the real seducers that being I have dared to deny ! Blessed be his mercy, that did not leave me to perish in my iniquity!' give him, and pray to GoD to turn 'his heart. If mine had been forti'fied by principle he never could have seduced it by sophistry. No; it was not he, it was my own pride, my own vanity, my own presump undid me. My strength fails. Fare'well, my poor Biddy! Nay, do not I have now hopes weep so much. of happiness more sweet, more precious, than aught the world can be'stow! Go home to your mother, my Biddy, and in the sober duties of 'our distempered brains dignified 'with the name of philosophy'." Vol. iii. p. 346–350. "After a pause, occasioned by want of breath, she thus proceeded. You 'believe Jesus Christ to have been a 'moralist and philosopher. Examine, I beseech you, the morality helife forget the idle vagaries which preached, and you will acknowledge its teacher could not lay the founda'tion of such a system in imposture. 'Well did he say of future teachers, By their fruits ye shall know them. What, my Bridgetina, are the fruits ' of the doctrines we have so unhappily been led to embrace? In me you behold them! In vain will you exclaim, in the jargon to which we 'have been accustomed, against the prejudices of society, as if to them were owing the load of misery which sinks me to a premature grave. Ah! no. Those prejudices, against which we have been accustomed so bitterly to rail, I now behold as a salutary fence, which, if I had never dared to overleap, would have secured my peace. Were those barriers broken down, and every woman encouraged by the suffrage of universal applause to act as I have acted, fatal, my dear Bridgetina, very fatal to society, would be the consequence! In my 'friends here, these dear friends whom Heaven has in mercy sent as ministering angels to smooth the path of death, see the fruits of a The principal heroine in these volumes is Miss Bridgetina Botherim, whose person is represented to be very ordinary, her mind inflated with conceit, and a victim to the opinions this work exposes. She obtrudes her favourite subject into every conversation in which she takes à part, and not having a single sentiment of her own, previous to every visit she commits to memory some portions from books of modern philosophy, which form the whole of her reasoning. A specimen of this lady's abilities we present to our readers; it is sufficient to notice the scene is the bay-field. "The glee of the rustics was soon still further animated on beholding Maria and her friends advancing in gay procession with a profuse supply of refreshments. Maria carried the goblet, which, like another Hebe, she presented to all around, and which was plentifully replenished from the pitcher borne by Henry. Harriet and Juliet took upon themselves the dis civilization miserable, an l wretched, ' and unhappy?' tribution of the bread and cheese, giving, at the desire of Mr. Sydney, a double portion to such as had left any Indeed, iny dear Miss Botherim," part of their family at home. Every rejoined Mrs. Martha, I have the face wore the appearance of cheerful-comfort of assuring you, that you ness and contentment. are very much mistaken. In the dwellings of the poor I am no stran Miserable wretches!' exclaimed Bridgetina; how doth the injusticeger. As fortune has not put it in under which you groan generate the spirit of virtuous indignation in 'the breasts of the enlightened !' 'What d'ye say, Miss?" said an old man, who imagined her eyes were directed towards him, though in reality she was stedfastly looking in Henry's face. What d'ye say, Miss,' repeated he, about any one's being 'miserable? ་ 'I say,' returned Bridgetina, that 'you ought to be truly wretched.' And why so, Miss? what has I 'done to deserve to be wretched? I 'works as hardly, and I gets as good wages, as any man in the parish; 'my wife has good health, and we "never lost a child. What should 'make me wretched ?' 'Miserable depravity!' cried Bridgetina, how abject that mind which can boast of its degradation! rejoice in receiving wages! no won'der that gratitude, that base and immoral principle, should be har'boured in such a breast!' Why, Miss,' returned the man, considerably irritated by her harangue, I would have you to know as bow that I don't understand be'ing made game of; and if you mean for to say that I have no gratitude, I defy your malice. I am as grate'ful for a good turn as any man living. I would go ten miles at midnight upon my bare feet to serve young Mr. Sydney there, who saved my poor Tommy's life in the smallpox: poor fellow, he remembers it still-don't ye, Tommy? Aye that 'a does; and if thou ever forgets it, *thou art no true son of thy father's.' "Here Mrs. Martha interposed, and by a few kind words allayed the resentment which the declamation of Bridgetina had enkindled. She then invited our heroine to walk with her, and as soon as they were out of hearing of the labourers, asked her what was her motive for thinking that poor man was so mi serable. And are not all miserable?' said Bridgetina, are not all who live in this deplorable state of distempered my power to do much towards removing their wants, I consider my'self doubly bound to do all I can to'wards relieving their afflictions. For this purpose I make it my business 'to enquire into them; and in the course of these enquiries I have 'found frequent cause to admire the 'order of Providence, in distributing the portion of happiness with a 'much more equal hand than on a slight view we could possibly ima gine. I question whether any lord in the land enjoys half the share of 'content and satisfaction that falls to 'the lot of that industrious labourer 'to whom you spoke. You shall, if you please, accompany me some evening to his cottage, which is one of the neatest and pleasantest little habitations you ever visited in your life. You may there, towards sun'set, see the poor man sitting in his nicely dressed little garden, and perhaps singing some old ballad for the amusement of his children, while their mother is preparing their sup'per.' Preparing their supper!' repeated Bridgetina. In that one expression 'you have given an ample description of the misery of their state. Preparing supper Yes, ye wretched 'mortals, the whole of the powers you 'possess is engaged in pursuits of mise'rable expedients to protract your exist ence. Ye poor, predestined victims of ignorance and prejudice! ye go for'ward with your heads bowed down to the earth in a mournful state of inanity • and torpor. Yet like the victims of Circe, you have the understanding left to give you ever and anon a glimpse of what ye might have been*. Whereever these poor wretches cast their eyes, they behold nought but cruel aggravations of their alliction. Suppose them at their homely 'meal, and that the sumptuous carriage of the peer, whose stately mansion rises on yonder hill, should pass 'their cottage.. When they behold my lord and lady lolling in the Godwin's Enquirer. 6 gilded coach which is conveying am insensible to the abundance of them home to the luxuriant repast, real ones that fall, alas! too freprepared by twenty cooks, what ef- quently to their lot. But in visiting fect will the grating sight produce in their afflictions, in advising and con'their tortured bosoms? Will not a soling them in their distresses, I con'sense of the inequality of their conceive that I conduce more effectu 'ditions wring their wretched hearts?ally to the alleviation of their mis-, With what horror and disgust will fortunes, than if I were to indulge they then view the smoking dish of myself in the most gloomy reveries, beans and bacon? Will not their or by exaggerated descriptions of 'mouths refuse to swallow the loathed their calamities excite in the wretchfood, which the thoughts of the tarts ed objects of my compassion the and cheesecakes that cover the spirit of discontent. Let us not great man's table has converted into bitterness? Will they not leave the untasted meal, and retiring to their bed of chaff, or at best of hen's feathers, spend the gloomy night in drawing melancholy comparisons betwixt the happy state of the peer ' and their own miserable condi'tion ?" And do you really believe all this, 'my dear?' said Mrs. Martha, laughing. How in the name of wonder 'did such strange notions come into 'your head? Be assured,' continued she, that these poor people see the 'equipage of my lord and lady with the same indifference that they behold the flight of a bird; and would as soon think of grieving at the want of wings as at the want of a carriage. Were you to follow that lord and lady to their banquet, you ⚫ would soon be sensible that it was at their luxuriant feast, and not at the 'cottagers supper, the spirit of repining and discontent was to be found. At night, when tossing on their separate beds of down, they might very probably be heard to envy the sound sleep of the peasant; while the contented cottager, in the 'arms of his faithful wife, and surrounded by his little babes, enjoyed the sweets of sound and uninterrupted repose. And so,' said Bridgetina, 'your religion, I suppose, teaches you to be callous to the miseries of the poor? r?' God forbid !' returned Mrs. Martha, but my understanding teaches me to discriminate betwixt the natu⚫ral evils that are incident to poverty, and the fantastic and imaginary ones which have no existence but in the dreams of visionaries. It is one of the blessings belonging to a life of labour to be exempted from the disquietude of fancied ills. You * mistake me, however, if you think I 'forget, my dear Miss Botherim, that LXII. A CHARGE delivered to the Clergy of the Diocese of Durham, at the ordinary Visitation of that Diocese, in July, 1801. By SHUTE, BISHOP OF DURHAM. HIS Charge has too long escaped us, and has now been so widely circulated that our extracts may be the more concise. His Lordship's avowed design is to "show the necessity of cultivating the pure princi ples of the Gospel, and of studying the means of promoting-a truly spiritual religion," which he thus defines: "Spiritual religion is a sincere devotion of the mind to God: an humble resignation to all his dispensations; an universal and unvaried obedience to his will. That this is very far from the religion of the world, very little experience is necessary to discover, and it is certainly no breach of charity to assert. Yet we know that it ought to be the rule of every Christian's conduct; that it is the surest source of every thing most dear and permanent in earthly happiness, and the only security for happiness hereafter. To cultivate it above all things in ourselves, and to promote in others by every faculty of our minds, is our bounden duty. It must therefore be always a concern of the highest interest in a conscientious Pastor to obtain both these important ends." p.3, 4. In order to recommend objects of so high importance, his Lordship states what appear to him the principal impediments to this "pure and undefiled religion," namely, "want of faith," (that faith which works by love)" the fear of singularity" and reproach—“prejudice"-" worldly mindedness," &c. Having thus stated and animadverted on the chief impediments to true religion, this venerable Prelate proceeds to state what appear to him the principal means of cultivating in the Clergy, and of promoting it in those committed to their charge, and they are briefly the following: To found all our religious opinions on the scriptures-"To consider faith as the beginning and end of all religion"-To urge the necessity of personal sanctification, and especially that newness of spirit, and rectitude of heart, which constitutes the new birth, and is the source of every spiritual comfort here, and all our hopes hereafter." p. 17. 66 Toward the end of this charge his Lordship has the following pointed and animated address, with which we close our extracts. "Whatever is declared in scripture, you are bound to preach; whatever is peculiar to christianity, and essential to salvation, must be constantly laid before your Congregations, and enforced upon their minds, whether they will hear, 'or whether they will forbear;' such principles and such doctrines are-indispensable subjects of your instruction and your exhortation; whether preached by Papist or Puritan, Conformist or Non-conformist; the choice of them is not matter of discretion; for woe to them who preach not the Gospel, the whole Gospel, undimi nished and undisguised." p. 21. LXIII. A SERMON preached at Durham, July 21, 1801, at the Visitation of the Right Reverend the Lord Bishop of Durham. By ROBERT GRAY, B. D. Prebendary of Chichester, &c. HIS Sermon may be very properly connected with the preceding Charge, and the object of it is "to illustrate the connection between Literature and Christianity." The text is Matt. xxviii. 20, “Lo! I am with you always," &c., which the preacher applies to the influence of the Holy Spirit accompanying the Gospel, and the arrangements of divine Provi dence by which it was introduced and spread. Mr. G. particularly considers the progress of literature, both previous and subsequent to the promulgation of Christianity, as highly favourable to its interests, and from thence forcibly infers that the same religion can have nothing to fear, but much to hope, from the cultivation of learning and the spread of useful knowledge. "As to the influence of the diffusion of learning on the lower classes of society, it is to be observed, that if an insiduous spirit of seduction, which accommodates its designs to every condition and circumstance, has endeavoured to mislead the minds of the inferior ranks of society to subjects beyond the sphere of their intelligence, the evil consequences which have resulted will not afford any argument against the conveyance of that information, which is adapted to their station; while it tends to raise their minds to those considerations, in which their eternal welfare is involved, and which should be equally the concern of every rank. Superstition and disaffection to civil government strike their deep roots, and spread their baneful shade, chiefly where ignorance prevails. In these united realms it is apparent that reli gion and moral virtues are found to flourish, in proportion as efficacy has been given to the original intention and discipline of those institutions, which were tramed by ancient wis dom for the promotion of real knowledge; and which embraced, in the extension of a liberal policy, and by the erection of schools of gratuitous instruction, the interest of the lowest classes of society. If we look, for instance, on the prominent distinctions of the remoter appendencies of the empire, it is obvious to remark, that the country which has been long emi nent for industry, sobriety, and peaceful manners, has been chiefly noticeable for that information, which is afforded to every rank; and that intelligence, by which its lower orders are characterized, more, perhaps, than those of any other nation: while in a division, where from im 238 provident conduct, and a disgraceful disregard of the regulations, made by the ancient legislature, the provisions for general instruction have failed, or been defeated, the unhappy people have been deluded by the agents of a malignant superstition, or the profligate advocates of infidelity, to disorders and crimes, which cannot be reviewed but with horror and disgust. "If an enquiry were prosecuted with more minute detail, it would generally be found that the local habits are most commendable, and religion and the laws most respected, where early and sedulous instruction is communicated through its ancient and legitimate channels. "It is only by instilling the true principles of religion with effectual and universal regard to the spiritual improvement of men, in the form of sound words, and with some reference to their progress in general knowledge; it is only by giving efficacy to the spirit and intention of ancient institutions and endowments, and by availing ourselves of every increased advantage, that the people can be secured from the contagion of those mischievous opinions, which are circulated under every deception, and intermingled with every species of publication; or armed against the seductions of those beguilers of un'stable souls,' who multiply their seceding sects by a delusion, which exhibits the most melancholy proofs of the extension of enthusiasm and ig norance. 6 "It is from want of those just convictions of the true nature and principles of religion, which were formerly engraven on the mind with the first rudiments of knowledge, and blended with every communication, and which, as the means are now facilitated, might be impressed with more general and efficacious instruction, that men are carried away with every blast of vain doctrine,' and deluded by every species of sophistry. Christianity, instilling its simple truths into the uncultivated understanding, and unfolding its sublime wisdom to those, who by their intellectual attainments are enabled to estimate its excellency, must afford the best and only security against those deceptions, which are daily engendered by human folly and human wickedness; and teach its enlightened disciples, while they follow the discoverics of reason and true philosophy in their widest range, to bring every thought and imagination in just subjection to the wisdom of him, who was a light to lighten the world'." p. 27-29. CENCE. LXIV. THE ISLAND OF INNOA Poetical Epistle to a Friend. By PETER PINDAR, Esq. Part I. O thee, my FRIEND, amid that peaceful ISLE Where bounteous NATURE blooms with sweetest smile; Where never WINTER, on his northern blast, Howls on the hill, and lays the valley waste; O'er a pale sun, the cloud of horror throws, And buries NATURE in his vast of Diffusing health and plenty, as they play; Where the rich treasures of the Pine reside, And orange-branches bend with golden pride; Where from the boughs of odour, mingled notes Of rapture warble from a thousand throats; And blest, from vale to vale the cooing dove Wings with his mate, and teaches man to love; TO THEE, I yield the MUSE's artless line, And envy all the blessings that are thine. The occasion and design of the Poem are explained in the following Note on the first line. To thee, my Friend.)—A gentleman, whom the Author of this Poem met by the merest accident, on a small |