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moderate grief of his lady, who could no longer hear calamity prophesied to befal her son.

The time at last came, and August was the inauspicious month in which young Dryden was to enter into the eighth year of his age. The Court being in progress, and Mr. Dryden at leisure, he was invited to the country-seat of the Earl of Berkshire, his brother-in-law, to keep the long vacation with him, at Charlton, in Wilts: his lady was invited to her uncle Mordaunt's, to pass the remainder of the summer. When they came to divide the children, Lady Elizabeth would have him take John, and suffer her to take Charles; but Mr. Dryden was absolute, and they parted in anger; he took Charles with him, and she was obliged to be content with John.

When the fatal day came, the anxiety of the lady's spirits occasioned such an effervescence of blood, as threw her into so violent a fever, that her life was despaired of, till a letter came from Mr. Dryden, reproving her for her womanish credulity, and assuring her that her child was well, which recovered her spirits; and in six weeks after, she received an eclaircissement of the whole affair. Mr. Dryden, either through

fear of being reckoned superstitious, or thinking it a science beneath his study, was extremely cautious of letting any one know that he was a student in astrology; therefore did not excuse his absence, on his son's anniversary, to a general hunting-match Lord Berkshire had made, to which all the adjacent gentlemen were invited.

When he went out, he took care to set the boy a double lesson in the Latin tongue, which he taught his children himself, with a strict charge not to stir out of the room till his return; well knowing the task he had set him would take up longer time. Charles was performing his task, in obedience to his father; but, as ill fate would have it, the stag made towards the house, and the noise alarming the servants, they hastened out to see the sport. One of them took young Dryden by the hand, and led him out to see it also; when, just as they came to the gate, the stag, being at bay with the dogs, made a bold push, and leaped over the court-wall, which was very low, and very old; and the dogs, following, threw down a part of the wall, ten yards in length, under which, Charles Dryden lay buried. He was immediately dug out, and, after

six weeks' languishing in a dangerous way, he recovered: so far, Dryden's prediction was fulfilled.

In the twenty-third year of his age, Charles fell from the top of an old tower, belonging to the Vatican at Rome, occasioned by a swimming in his head, with which he was seized, the heat of the day being excessive. He again recovered, but was ever after in a languishing and sickly state.

In the thirty-third year of his age, being returned to England, he was unhappily drowned at Windsor. He had, with another gentleman, swam twice over the Thames; but, returning a third time, it was supposed he was taken with the cramp, because he called out for help, though too late. Thus, the father's calculation proved but too prophetical.

CAPTAIN THOMAS JAMES, OF BRISTOL.

THE following poems are transcribed from the " Strange and dangerous Voyage" of this excellent old seaman, "in his intended discovery of the North-West passage into the South Sea, in the years 1631 and 1632.” The circumstances under which they were written

would alone render them curious, even to those persons who cannot pardon the mannerism of that age. But it is hoped, there are many readers who are capable of understanding the strain of fine and manly feeling which is breathed in them.

"The 30th of this month of September, (says he,) we thought would have put an end to our miseries; for now we were driven amongst rocks, shoals, over-falls, and breaches round about us, that which way to turn we knew not, but there rid amongst them in extremity of distress. All these perils made a most hideous and terrible noise in the night season; and I hope it will not be accounted ridiculous, if I relate with what meditations I was affected, now and then, amongst my ordinary prayers; which I here afford the reader, as I there conceived them, in these few ragged and torn rhymes.

Oh my poor soul, why dost thou grieve to see
So many deaths muster to murder me?
Look to thyself, regard not me; for I
Must do (for what I came) perform or die.
So thou mayest free thyself from being in
A dunghill dungeon, a mere sink of sin;

And happily be freed, if thou believe
Truly in God through Christ, and even live.
Be therefore glad; yet e'er thou go from hence,
For our joint sins, let's do some penitence,
Unfeignedly together :-When we part,
I'll wish the Angles joy, with all my heart.
We have with confidence relied upon
A rusty wire, touched with a little stone
Incompassed round with paper, and alass,
To house it harmless, nothing but a glass;
And though to shun a thousand dangers, by
The blind direction of the senseless flie;

When the fierce winds shattered black night assunder,
Whose pitchy clouds, spitting forth fire and thunder,
Hath shook the earth, and made the ocean roar,

And run to hide it in the broken shore.

Now thou must steer by faith, a better guide,
"Twill bring thee safe to heaven against the tide
Of Satan's malice. Now let quiet gales

Of saving Grace inspire thy zealous sails.

The other and far finer poem was written upon his leaving the dismal island where he had wintered, and which he called "Winter's Forest," but which now deservedly bears his own name. "And now the sun was set, and the boat came ashore for us; whereupon we assembled ourselves together, and went up to take the last view of our dead, and to look

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