Thou who amidst the deathful field, By godlike chiefs alone beheld, Pleading for him the youth who sinks to ground: And decks thy altar still, though pierced with many a wound ANTISTROPHE. When he whom e'en our joys provoke, The fiend of Nature join'd his yoke, And rush'd in wrath to make our isle his prey; O'ertook him on his blasted road, And stopp'd his wheels, and look'd his rage away. That bore him swift to savage deeds, Thy tender melting eyes they own; To thee we build a roseate bower, Thou, thou shalt rule our queen, and share our monarch's throne! ON THE DEATH OF THE POET THOMSON.' I. In yonder grave a Druid lies Where slowly winds the stealing wave! II. In yon deep bed of whispering reeds That he, whose heart in sorrow bleeds, III. Then maids and youths shall linger here, To hear the woodland pilgrim's knell. IV. Remembrance oft shall haunt the shore When Thames in summer wreaths is drest, And oft suspend the dashing oar To bid his gentle spirit rest! 1 This ode on the Death of Thomson seems to have been written during an excursion to Richmond on the Thames. "Collins had skill to complain." Of that mournful melody, and those tender images, which are the distinguishing excellencies of such pieces as bewail departed friendship or beauty, he was almost an unequalled master. ? The harp of Æolus, of which see a description in Thomson's Castle of Indolence. SAMUEL RICHARDSON. 1689-1761. SAMUEL RICHARDSON, who may be said to be the inventor of the mode English novel, was the son of a carpenter in Derbyshire, and was born in 1689. From the limited means of his father, he was restricted to a commonschool education, which is very apparent in the structure of his composition. He early exhibited, however, the most decisive marks of genius, and was re 1 Thomson was buried in Richmond church. 8 Thomson resided in the neighborhood of Richmond some time before his death markably partial to letter-writing, and to the company of his young female friends, with whom he maintained a constant correspondence, and even ventured, though only in his eleventh year, to become their occasional monitor and adviser. "As a bashful and not forward boy," he relates, "I was an early favorite with all the young women of taste and reading in the neighborhood. Half a dozen of them, when met to work with their needles, used, when they got a book they liked, and thought I should, to borrow me to read to them; their mothers sometimes with them; and both mothers and daughters used to be pleased with the observations they put me upon making." In this exercise, doubtless, we may see the germ of the future novelist. At the age of sixteen he was put to the printer's trade, which he chose be cause it would give him an opportunity for reading. At the termination of his apprenticeship, he became a compositor and corrector of the press, and continued in this office for nearly six years, when he entered into business for himself. By his industry, punctuality, and integrity, he became more and more known, and his business rapidly increased; so that in a few years he obtained the lucrative situation of printer to the House of Commons. He did not, however, neglect to use his pen, and frequently composed prefaces and dedications for the booksellers. He also published a volume of "Familiar Letters," which might serve as models for persons of limited education. In 1740 he published his first novel, "Pamela," which immediately attracted an extraordinary degree of attention. "It requires a reader," says Sir Walter Scott, "to be in some degree acquainted with the huge folios of inanity over which our ancestors yawned themselves to sleep, ere he can estimate the delight they must have experienced from this unexpected return to truth and nature." Truly original in its plan, it united the interest arising from well-combined incident with the moral purposes of a sermon. Pope praised it as likely to do more good than twenty volumes of sermons; and Dr. Sherlock recommended it from the pulpit. In 1749 appeared Richardson's second and greatest work, «The History of Clarissa Harlowe," which raised his reputation at once, as a master of fictitious narrative, to the highest point. Dr. Drake calls it "perhaps the most pathetic tale ever published." The admiration it excited was not confined to his own country. It was honored with two versions in French, and Rousseau declared that nothing ever equal, or approaching to it, had been produced in any country. As, in the character of Clarissa, Richardson had presented a picture of female virtue and honor nearly perfect, so in 1753, in the "History of Sir Charles Grandison," he designed to give a character which should combine the elegance of the gentleman with the faith and virtues of the Christian. "This, though not indeed so pathetic as his former work, discovers more knowledge of life and manners, and is perfectly free from that indelicacy and high coloring which occasionally render the scenery of Clarissa dangerous to young minds."1 In 1754 he was elected to the post of master to the Stationers' Company, a situation as lucrative as it was honorable. For some years previous to his death he had suffered much from nervous attacks, which at length terminated in an apoplectic stroke, which proved fatal on the 4th of July, 1761 No character could be freer from vice of every sort, or more perfectly irreproachable, than Richardson. In all the duties of morality and piety he was the most regular and exemplary of men. As a writer, he possessed original 1 Drake's Essays, vol. v. p. 53. genius, and an unlimited command over the tender passions; yet, owing to the prolixity of his productions and the poverty of his style, his works are continually decreasing in popularity. How few now read "Clarissa," ol "Sir Charles Grandison!" How important, then, is style to the preservatior of literary labor! In 1755 was published a curious volume with the following title:"A Collection of the Moral and Instructive Sentiments, Maxims, Cautions, and Reflections, contained in the Histories of Pamela, Clarissa, and Sir Charles Grandison." From it we make the following extracts: MORAL SENTIMENTS. BENEFICENCE. The power of doing good to worthy objects, is the only enviable circumstance in the lives of people of fortune What joy it is in the power of the wealthy to give themselves, whenever they please, by comforting those who struggle with undeserved distress. Nothing in human nature is so God-like as the disposition to do good to our fellow-creatures. Such is the blessing of a benevolent heart, that, let the world frown as it will, it cannot possibly bereave it of all happiness; since it can rejoice in the prosperity of others. CALUMNY, CENSURE. No one is exempt from calumny. Words said, the occasion of saying them not known, however justly reported, may bear a very different construction from what they would have done had the occasion been told. Were evil actions to pass uncensured, good ones would lose their reward; and vice, by being put on a foot with virtue in this life, would meet with general countenance. A good person will rather choose to be censured for doing his duty than for a defect in it. CHILDREN. There is such a natural connection and progression between the infantile and more adult state of children's minds, that those who would know how to account for their inclinations, should not be wholly inattentive to them in the former state. At two or three years old, or before the buds of children's minds will begin to open, a watchful parent will then be employed, like a skilful gardener, in defending the flower from blights, and assisting it through its several stages to perfection. EDUCATION. Tutors should treat their pupils, with regard to such of their faulty habits as cannot easily be eradicated, as prudent physicians do their patients in chronical cases; rather with gentle palliatives than harsh extirpatives; which, by means of the resistance given to them by the habit, may create such ferments as may utterly defeat their intention. Neither a learned nor a fine education is of any other value than as it tends to improve the morals of men, and to make them wise and good.1 A generous mind will choose to win youth to its duty by mildness and good usage, rather than by severity. The Almighty, by rewards and punishments, makes it our interest, as well as our duty, to obey Him; and can we propose to ourselves, for the government of our children, a better example? FRIENDSHIP. The more durable ties of friendship are those which result from a union of minds formed upon religious principles. An open and generous heart will not permit a cloud to hang long upon the brow of a friend, without inquiring into the reason of it, in hopes to be able to dispel it. Freely to give reproof, and thankfully to receive it, is an indispensable condition of true friendship. One day, profligate men will be convinced that what they call friendship is chaff and stubble, and that nothing is worthy of that sacred name that has not virtue for its base. GENERAL OBSERVATIONS. The man or woman who will obstinately vindicate a faulty step in another, seems to indicate that, in like circumstances, he or she would have been guilty of the same fault. All our pursuits, from childhood to manhood, are only trifles of different sorts and sizes, proportioned to our years and views. We must not expect that our roses will grow without thorns; but then they are useful and instructive thorns, which, by pricking the fingers of the too hasty plucker, teach future caution. THE GOOD MAN. A good man lives to his own heart. He thinks it not good manners to slight the world's opinion; though he will regard it only in the second place. A good man will look upon every accession of power to do good as a new trial to the integrity of his heart. A good man, though he will value his own countrymen, yet will think as highly of the worthy men of every nation under the sun. A good man is a prince of the Almighty's creation. A good man will not engage even in a national cause, without examining the justice of it. How much more glorious a character is that of the friend of mankind, than that of the conqueror of nations? 1 And surely happiness, duty, faith, truth, and final blessedness, are matters of deeper and dearer interest for all men, than circles to the geometrician, or the characters of plants to the botanist, or the affinities and combining principle of the elements of bodies to the chemist, or even than the mechanism (fearful and wonderful though it be) of the perishable Tabernacle of the Soul can be to the anatomist."- Coleridge |