237 Poetry-The Villager's Lay, &c. One eye hath glanc'd; nor did thy wonders dart, That heavenly truth, the simplest Christian read, He sinks, and plunges to the depths of night! maze, Pour'd on philosophy, oh! immortal blaze; That harmony divine which rules the whole, Allar'd his reason, but left blank his soul. While his proud spirit in its rapturous flight, Bath'd in the region of the fount of light: From that warm source into his darken'd soul He felt no hallow'd emanation roll, He saw no Power, that with almighty will Gemm'd night's blue concave with transcendent skill, But knowing much-still less, as more he saw, Knew he the uthor of great nature's law; And though with him the circling spheres he trod, He spurn'd-believ'd not-knew not-prais'd not God. Fair azure vault when winter's northern blast A glist'ring robe of snows around had cast; Unknowing he to mark the comet's track, eye, Nor Newton's spirit led him through the sky, Nor in those regions drunk at learning's spring, Dar'd flutter vainly on presumption's wing. -Fair azure vault! simplicity's dear child, View'd stars as stars, that spangled o'er thy wild; And when the comet's awful splendour blaz'd, Would guide it safely past the flaming sun. Unknown to him, his systems and his name ; 238 When all the sons of God together sang- Flash'd new-born light in its created hour, -He view'd it, as the deep unfathom'd realm, DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY. FROM her cheek has fled the glowing hue, And her eyes have lost their heav'nly blue, Pale and inanimate, tell her dead: And her lips so late of ruby red, The ringlets roll on her breast of snow, Which erst with rapture was wont to glow, But never again will heave the sigh, To the grave she's borne by weeping friends, Nor glow with generous sympathy. And the bursting sigh each bosom rends ; Her spirit freed from its mortal clay, To elysian shades swift wings its way. Priestgate, Peterborough, J. R. EDWARD AND MATILDA, A Poem, in Two Cantos. BY T. N. Canto the First. HARD by the borders of a fragrant grove, 239 Poetry-Edward and Matilda, &c. Soarce had gay Sol in golden chariot driv'n Twice round the earth, through the blue vault of heav'n, Since first they dwelt in this their snug retreat, Canto the Second. WHILE through the cupola of lofty trees, The pallid moon appears as silver bright; And meditation dropt her soothing balm; The dismal screech-owl now began her noteThat rung discordant through her noisome throat; Still on Matilda Edward's mind was bent, Scarce had he enter'd at a gloomy wood, cry Could not be far, determin'd to descry; A pray'r to heaven's all bounteous throne he sent, Then grasp'd his sword, and boldly on he went, 240 Till an old ruin, open'd to his sight, And creeping ivy most delib'rate crawls A light that issued through the broken wall, "Oh! spare me, spare me," echo whisper'd round. Then swift as light'ning through the court he flies, And to a pond'rous door his strength applies, When in the corner of the hall appears, sprung. Soon he ascended to the topmost height, A vile assassin o'er a female form, Pierces his heart, and brings him to the ground: A sudden shiv'ring strikes his manly form, warm; His lips turn pale, his heart froze to its core, He sinks! he falls! and never rises more. LINES ON A SKULL, Brought from the Field of Waterloo, and placed in a Hermitage in Wales. In this lone spot, oh friend or stranger! Birth to its silent owner gave, We all are equal in the grave. 241 Poetry-Elegy on the late Beilby Porteus. The roses bloom, the circling laurels twine, Ah! wherefore say to him alone denied? Or rais'd your hatred when to Heav'n he cried smile? This silence hence, thrice happy envied lot, Thy classic page with purest precept fraught, Or from the future tear its dark disguise, • Westminster Abbey. 242 How then in sable weeds thy sons array'd Would weep their folly, and their crimes deplore; Too late, alas, that fruitless tribute paid, Yet, grandeur, hear, when o'er the dark unknown Then holy Truth, no longer spurn'd aside, With anguish wrung beneath her piercing frown, own, Or, as of late, repay him with a sneer? Ah! no, your high-born souls, no longer proud, Lest sin involve you in her fatal snare, SINGULAR FACT. MRS. Barton, who resides upon a farm in the parish of Mansfield, had for some time observed one of her hens to be in a lingering state: the hen dying a few days ago, curiosity prompted Mrs. B. to examine into the cause of its death; but in attempting to draw it, she took hold of a substance which she was unable to remove: one of her men being present, immediately took his knife and opened the fowl, when, to their utter astonishment, they discovered a large toad, which had grown fast to the side of the hen!! ARCHDEACON PALEY. In a stage coach, in which Paley was travelling from the North, was a petty tradesman from a town near the Archdeacon's residence, who gave himself airs, and expressed dissatisfaction at the accommodations on the road. On the arrival of the coach at a capital inn, the passengers were shewn into a large, well-furnished room, where every thing was too good for the most fastidious person to find the least fault. "This is tolerably comfortable," said the pompous passenger, “but after all it is not like home."-"Very unlike home, indeed, Sir," said Paley. 243 Destruction of the Caxton Printing-office. DESTRUCTION OF THE CAXTON PRINT ING-OFFICE BY FIRE. (With an Engraving.) ON Tuesday, January 30th, 1821, a most dreadful fire broke out in the Caxton Printing-office, Liverpool, which, in a few hours, reduced this lofty and extensive pile of buildings to a heap of ruins. The fire was first publicly discovered about one o'clock in the morning; and the alarm being given, some of the people employed on the establishment, and who lived on and near the premises, were roused from their beds. These immediately gave notice to others who lived in the vicinity; and all, with the utmost expedition, hastened to the awful spot, to render all the assistance in their power in extinguishing the flames. The engines were instantly called; but, unfortunately, they had been previously conducted to another fire which had just happened in the northern part of the town; so that nearly an hour elapsed from the first discovery of the fire to the time of their arrival. The fire first appeared in a small apartment in the north-west end of the composing-room. This apartment contained old type, and sundry stores of various kinds, together with waste proofs, and was only occasionally visited. Here it is probable that it remained a considerable time, preying upon such articles as lay within its range, until it had acquired strength to burst forth into one general blaze. From this room the flames ascended to the rooms above, which were filled with books, sheets, and numbers; and in less than an hour the upper stories exhibited an extended volume of flame. The men, on entering the building, hastened first to the press-room, in the northern end of which they discovered fire falling from the small room above, in which it probably originated. They then ascended the stairs, and attempted to enter the composing-room, but this was so completely filled with smoke and fire, that they were compelled to retreat, without being able to secure some valuable manuscripts which lay on different frames, where they had been working on the preceding day. The fire then communicated from room to room in its descent, until the whole building about three o'clock presented nothing but a bed of fire, or an imbodied flame. 244 About three o'clock the roof fell in This event was announced by the mounting fire, which rose to a tremendous height above the building, carrying into the air flakes of burning paper, which whirled around in a most awful manner, and apparently setting the whole firmament in a blaze. The windows at this time were wholly demolished by the fire; so that the current of air which the apertures admitted, gave new vigour to the flames, and augmented the conflagration. The engines unhappily arrived too late, either to extinguish the fire, or to preserve any part of the building, the devouring element having obtained such an ascendancy, as to bid defiance to all opposition. In the meanwhile, as the fire increased, the various floors successively gave way, imparting in their burning descent an additional stimulus to the flames, which seemed to triumph in their acquisition of new combustible matter. The spectacle, at this time, was dreadfully sublime. The paper in the air appeared like balloons on fire; and a considerable part of the town was illuminated with the light that the flames emitted. The burning fragments were whirled in various di rections, covering the ground with the memorials of desolation, to an extent of nearly two miles. About four o'clock a large portion of the eastern wall fell in with a horrid crash; but this, instead of deadening the fire, gave a new momentary impulse to the flames, which, gathering round the materials, retained their wonted vigour, and thus gained an opportunity of issuing from the sides, and pouring the fiery inundation without any ob struction. The men who managed the engines, on finding that all efforts to extinguish the fire were unavailing, turned their attention to the adjacent buildings, pouring streams upon them, to prevent a communication of the contiguous flames. Many of these were so close to the burning pile, that had the walls near them fallen in that direction they must inevitably have been involved in the common wreck. These walls, however, providentially stood, until the fire had abated, and the wind being favourable for the preservation of the contiguous cottages, not one of them was set on fire. The direction of the wind, during the conflagration, was nearly south, 245 Destruction of the Caxton Printing-office. 246 though somewhat inclined to the west; | cles, which had been deposited in a and, happily, it did not blow with any considerable degree of violence. Issuing from any other quarter, the flames must have been driven immediately on some contiguous houses; in which case their destruction would have been inevitable. But although it was sufficiently strong to carry the flame through the broken wall on the eastern side of the building, as no houses were on the opposite side of the street in that direction, their energies were spent without communicating with any other combustible matter. The light which the flames emitted was so strong, as to resemble day; and even to render the most diminutive objects visible. The room in which a man, living in Tranmere, slept, was so illuminated, that he got up to discover its source; and from its brilliancy he was enabled distinctly to discern by his watch the hour of the night. The place in which he lived, is in Cheshire, on the opposite side of the harbour, about two miles distant from the conflagration. The heat also was too intense to be borne, except at a considerable distance. Many panes of glass in houses adjacent were broken with its excessive violence; and from the upper parts of the flaming ruins, the molten lead streamed around, and lodged in shining spangles on the clothes of several who approached near the fire to rescue from its destructive power such articles as could be secured." The flames continued to rage with undiminished violence from the moment they gained the ascendancy, until nearly five o'clock, when, having exhausted the combustible matter which lay within their reach, they gradually declined, and occasionally became mixed with smoke that arose from a bed of fire distributed over the bottom of the building, surrounded by cracked and broken fragments of walls, that only gave variety to the forms of desolation. From this vast pile of buildings, filled with type, printing-presses, numbers, books bound and in boards, together with stereotype, engravers' tools, copperplate-presses, paper, and stores of various kinds connected with the extensive trade carried on by Mr. Henry Fisher, the proprietor; the only articles of consequence that have been preserved are, the copper-plates, and about a thousand reams of paper. These arti store room on the bottom floor, the men rescued at the risk of their lives. In this room they continued while the floors and roof above them successively gave way, and until the melted type descending through the crevices of the chambers, dropped, like rain, upon their clothes, and the paper they were preserving. Being thus compelled to retreat, the remaining mass of this vast property, amounting to an enormous sum, of which, at present, no accurate estimate can be formed, was involved in the common destruction. The account books, which were in a detached building, have been preserved. The vestiges of this vast property still lie buried in the heaps of rubbish that involve the remains of Caxton Buildings, which was one of the largest publishing establishments in this kingdom, and perhaps in the world. The property rescued from the flames, and taken from the contiguous buildings which were thought to be in imminent danger, was partly carried into the houses of the neighbouring inhabitants, who readily opened their doors on this disastrous occasion, and partly piled in the streets, protected by a guard of soldiers until a place of safety could be found, to secure it from the depredations of any who might have mingled with the vast crowds of people assembled to witness the catastrophe. The fire continued burning during the whole day, and on the ensuing night occasionally blazed with renewed violence. Both by night and by day the soldiers were continued, to guard the ruins, and to prevent the thoughtless from approaching too near to the hanging walls, until Thursday the 8th of February. The fire, though apparently nearly smothered, still continues to burn; and on the attempts that have been made to remove the rubbish, the heat has been too intolerable to be borne; and fire still begins to glow in many places as soon as the air is admitted. The occasion of this calamity we have no means of tracing in a decisive manner. The various rooms having been warmed with steam from a boiler without the building, no fire was known to exist in the parts where it began. The men quitted their work about seven in the evening, and left every thing secure; and about eight, a man appointed for the purpose, went |