Now proudly spreads his leading-string of state,
And thinks to be a wretch is to be great!

"But turn, O Goddess, turn thine eyes, and view The darling leaders of thy gloomy crew.

Fail open-mouth'd N

*there behold,

Aping a Tully, swell into a scold;

Grievous to mortal ear: as at the place

Where loud-tongu'd virgins vend the scaly race,
Harsh peals of vocal thunder fill the skies,
And stunning sounds in hideous discord rise;
So when he tries the wond'rous power of noise,
Each hapless ear's a victim to his voice.
How blest, O Chiselden, whose art can mend,
Those ears N-
-e was ordain'd to rend.

"To Dullness' sacred cause for ever true,
Thy darling Caledonian, Goddess, view;
The pride and glory of thy Scotia's plains,
And faithful leader of her venal swains.
Loaded he moves beneath a servile weight,
The dull laborious pack-horse of the state;
Drudges through tracks of infamy for pay,
And hacknies out his conscience by the day.
Yonder behold the busy peerless peer
With aspect meagre and important air,
His form how gothic, and his looks how sage,
He seems the living Plato of the age.
Blest form in which alone thy merit's seen,
Since all thy wisdom centres in thy mien!
Here E- -x and Ale § (for senates fit)
-by the wise, in council sit.

And W.

Here looby G- -n, ག ་ -m' ever dull,
By birth a senator, by fate a f-1.

"While these, Britannia, watchful o'er thy state, Maintain thine honours, and direct thy fate,

How shall admiring nations round adore,

Behold thy greatness, tremble at thy power!
How Shebas come, invited by thy fame,
Revere thy wisdom and extol thy name!

"Lo! to yon bench++ now, Goddess, turn thine eyes,

And view thy sons in solemn dullness rise.

All doating, wrinkled, grave and gloomy, see

Each form confess thy dull divinity.

True to thy cause, behold each trencher'd sage
Increas'd in folly, as advanc'd in age.
Here Chr, ‡‡ learn'd in mystic prophesy,
Confuting Collins, makes each prophet lie.

Newcastle. † Harrington. Doubtless the first Marquis of Bute.

Essex and Argyle.

Willoughby. ¶ Grafton.

tt The Bench of Bishops.

‡‡ Chester.

**Grantham.

*Poor Woolston boldly Smallbrook there assailed,
Jails sure convinc'd him tho' the prelate fail'd.

"But chief Pastorius, ever grave and dull,
Devoid of sense, of zeal divinely full,
Retails his squibs of science o'er the town,

While charges, pastorals, through each street resound:
These teach a heav'nly Jesus to obey,

While those maintain an earthly Appius' sway.

Thy gospel truth, Pastorius, cross'd we see,†

While God and Mammon's serv'd at once by thee!

"Who would not run, speak, vote, or conscience pawn,

To lord it o'er a see, and swell in lawn?

If arts like these, O! S-k,‡ honours claim,
Than thee none merits more the Prelate's name.
Wond'ring, behold him faithful to his fee,
Prove Parliament dependent to be free,
In senates blunder, flounder, and dispute,
For ever reas'ning, never to confute.
Since courts for this their fated gifts decree,
Say, what is reputation to a see?

"Lo! o'er yon flood He§ casts his low'ring eyes,
And wishful sees the reverend turrets rise.

While Lambeth opens to thy longing view,
Hapless! the mitre ne'er can bind thy brow;

Though courts should deign the gift, how wond'rous hard,
By thy own doctrines still to be debarr'd;

For if from change|| such mighty evil springs,
Translations sure, Ö! He, are sinful things.

"These rulers see, and nameless numbers more,
O, Goddess, of thy train the choicest store;
Who ignorance in gravity entrench,
And grace alike the pulpit and the bench.

"Full plac'd and pension'd see H-r-o¶ stands
Begrim'd his face, unpurify'd his hands.
To decency he scorns all nice pretence,
And reigns firm foe to cleanliness and sense.
How did H-r-o Britain's cause advance,
How shine the sloven and buffoon of France!
In senates now how scold, how rave, how roar,
Of treaties run the tedious train-trow ** o'er;
How blunder out whate'er should be conceal'd,
And how keep secret what should be reveal'd!
True child of Dulness! see him, Goddess, claim
Power next myself, as next in birth and fame.

* The transcriber is not quite sure whether he is correct in his reading of this line, but he conceives the present form of words is fully adequate to satisfy the same.

† A Prelate noted for writing spiritural pastorals and temporal charges; in the one he endeavours to serve the cause of christianity; in the other, the mammon of a ministry. M.S.

herlock.

Hare.

A noted sermon preached on the 30th of January on this text, "Woe be unto them that are given to changes, &c." M.S.

¶Horatio, meaning Horatio Walpole, afterwards Lord Orford.

** This is apparently the word in the manuscript. I presume it means the catalogue.

"Silence! ye senates, while enribbon'd Y-e,
Pours forth melodious nothings from his tongue;
How sweet the accents play around the ear,
Form'd of smooth periods, and of well-tun'd air!
Leave, gentle Y-e, the senate's dry debate,
Nor labour 'midst the labyrinths of state;
Suit thy soft genius to more tender themes,
And sing of cooling shades and purling streams;
With modern sing-song murder ancient plays,
Or warble in sweet ode a Brunswick's praise;
So shall thy strains in purer dullness flow,
And laurels wither on a Cibber's+ brow.
Say, can the statesman wield the poet's quill,
And quit the senate for Parnassus' hill?"
Since there no venal vote a pension shares,
Nor wants Apollo Lords Commissioners?

"There W-n and P-, Goddess, view,
Firm in thy cause, and to thy Appius true.
Lo! from their labours what reward betides,
One pays my army, one my navy guides.

"To dance, dress, sing, and serenade the fair, Conduct a finger, or reclaim a hair;

O'er baleful tea with females taught to blame,
And spread a slander o'er each virgin's fame;
Form'd for these softer arts, shall H-y§ strain
With stubborn politics his tender brain?
For ministers laborious pamphlets write,
In senates prattle, and with patriots fight!
Thy fond ambition, pretty youth, give o'er,
Preside at balls, old fashions lost restore.
So shall each toilet in thy cause engage,
And H-y shine a P-re of the age.

"Behold a star emblazon C-n's coat,
Not that the knight has merit but a vote.
And here, O Goddess, numerous Wrongheads trace,
Lur'd by a pension, ribbon, or a place.

"To murder science, and my cause defend,
Now shoals of Grub-street garreteers descend;
From schools and desks the writing insects crawl,
Unload their Dulness, and for Appius bawl.

"Lo! to thy darling Osborne turn thine eyes,
See him o'er politics superior rise,
While Caleb feels the venom of his quill,
And wond'ring ministers reward his skill.
Unlearn'd in logic, yet he writes by rule,
And proves himself in syllogism— f—l.
Now flies, obedient, war with sense to wage,
And drags the idea through the painful page.
Unread, unanswer'd, still he writes again,
Still spins th' endless cobweb of his brain;
Charm'd with each line, reviewing what he writ,
Blesses his stars, and wonders at his wit.

Winington and Pelham.

* Younge.

+ The Poet Laureat.
§ Harvey.

Il Portmore.

"Nor less, O Walsingham, thy worth appears,
Alike in merit, though unlike in years.
Ill-fated youth, what stars malignant shed
Their baneful influence o'er thy brainless head,
Doom'd to be ever writing, never read?
For bread, to libel liberty and sense,

And damn thy patron weekly with defence?
Drench'd in the sable flood, O, hadst thou still
O'er skins of parchment drove thy venal quill;
At Temple ale-house told an idle tale,
And pawn'd thy credit for a mug of ale.
Unknown to Appius then had been thy name,
Unlaced thy coat, unsacrific'd his fame;
Nor vast unvended reams would Peel deplore,
As victims destin'd to the common-shore.

"Dunce to Dunce in endless numbers breed, So to Concanen see a Ralph succeed;

A tiny witling of these writing days,

Full-fam'd for tuneless rhimes and short-lived plays.
Write on, my luckless bard, still unasham'd,

Tho' burnt thy journals, and thy dramas damn'd;
"Tis bread inspires thy politics and lays,
Not thirst of Immortality or praise.

"These, Goddess, view the choicest of the train,
While yet unnumber'd Dunces still remain ;
Deans, critics, lawyers, bards, a motley crew,
To Dullness faithful, as to Appius true."

"Enough," the Goddess cries, "enough I've seen,
While these support secure my son shall reign;
Still shall thou blund'ring rule Britannia's fate,
Still Grub-street hail thee Minister of State!"

UPON THE SCOTAKS.

AMONGST the people who inhabit Hungary the Scotaks must be included, of whom geographers have till now made but little mention. The Scotaks live in seventy-five villages, in the district of Zemplin. They are of Sclavonic origin, and appear to be between the slaves, the Ruceniaks and the Polish; but differing from them in their dialect, manners and customs. The men and women have almost all white hair, it is very rare that an individual with black hair is seen. They generally live together in a patriarchal manner. The father gives the management of his house to one of his sons whom he thinks most capable of that office, and the others respect his orders, even though he be the youngest in the family. Their principal employment is keeping sheep. They buy them every year

in Transylvania and Moldavia; feed them during summer, and in the autumn sell them at the market of Hannussalva, or in Bohemia, Moravia, or Silicia. Many of them are waggoners, and carry wine and leather to Poland, Russia, Prussia, and Austria. A full-grown man very seldom gets on horseback to drive a carriage; this is confided to the boys in order not to overload the horses; white-headed children who are scarcely taller than the sill of the saddle, are capable of managing with great dexterity six or eight horses. In these teams there is always a white horse, that the driver may see him better in the dark. The Scotaks very seldom unite themselves with other people or tribes; they preserve their own language and take care not to introduce foreign idioms.

FALSE OR TRUE; OR, THE JOURNEY TO LONDON.
(An original Tale by MRS. OPIE.)

"WELL then, Ellen, all is settled," said Sir George Mortimer to his niece and ward; "and you are resolved to go to London by the mail from W- next Monday."

"Yes, dear uncle, it is the quickest conveyance; and as I am only to stay a month I shall like to lose as little time as I can in travelling."

"Oh! certainly; to lose twelve hours of such delight as awaits you, Ellen, would be shocking indeed!"

"Oh! but it is not only that, it will be less trouble, and less expense you know; and I shall want all my money for London; and as my aunt lets her maid go with me, and Mr. Betson, the attorney, will take care of me, I do not see why I should not go by the mail."

Nor I neither, my dear; but, Ellen, I suppose you have written to desire your cousin Charles Mandeville to meet you at the inn?"

"No, indeed, I have not," Ellen replied, deeply blushing, "for I wish to surprize him; besides, I should not like to take the poor youth out of his bed so early in a cold May."

"A great hardship, indeed, to force a healthy young man of one and twenty out of his bed in a spring morning, at five or six o'clock."

“Oh! but if I should give him cold! you know he often has a bad cough."

"Poor delicate creature! I am glad you have so much consideration for him."

"Nay, I am sure Charles is not delicate; he looks very manly, and has a fine healthy colour."

"Then why should he not get up to meet you?"

"Oh! but I wish to surprize him. I tell you he will be so surprized, and so delighted!"

"No doubt; well, well, silly girl! have your own way." And Ellen having sent for places in the W— mail, ran to talk to her aunt and cousins on the only subject uppermost in her young and confiding heart; namely, the joy of a first visit to the metropolis, and of the delight which her unexpected presence there would occasion her dear, Eur. Mag. June, 1823.

dear Charles: for Ellen, though she had a fine understanding, had a heart even too fond and too confiding, and she was only eighteen. Charles Mandeville, who, at the age of five and twenty, was to come into possession of a handsome fortune, had finished his classical studies under the tuition of a country clergyman in the village where Sir George Mortimer resided, and thence had had an intimate and frequent intercourse with Sir George's family, which had ended in a tender attachment between him and his cousin Ellen Mortimer, whose mother was his father's sister. Not that any thing like an engagement existed between them; that Sir George had positively forbidden. He had represented to them that they were as yet too young to know their own minds; and that, as Mr. Mandeville could not marry till he was of age, it would be better to prove the strength and reality of their attachment by absence, and by mixing with the world. The young lovers would have talked of eternal constancy, and declared their hearts were unalterably fixed on each other if he would have allowed them to do so; but he forbade it, assuring them that their rhapsodies would not carry conviction to his mind, as he had known many a passion, which the retirement of a village had created, vanish away in the va ried intercourse and pleasures of busy life. And very soon was absence the great test of affection to prove that of Charles Mandeville, for his guardian wrote to tell him it was time for him to enter himself at Lincoln's-inn. As Mandeville's father had been a strict dissenter he had forbidden his son to be educated at College; therefore instead of going to Cambridge he received the private tuition which I have mentioned, and was then to commence his legal studies, as intellectual pursuit of some sort was wisely deemed necessary for him during the years that were yet to come of his long minority. But a young man, who knows that

Q