stance he gave a striking proof, in an alcove with a bench, a little way from his house, so painted, that at a distance it passed, with an unsuspecting gazer, for a real one. On advancing more closely to it the illusion was perceived, and, as a motto, appeared the words, Invisibilia non decipiunt; "The things unseen deceive us not." Yet, so far was he from gloominess of temper, he was fond of innocent sports and amusements; and not only instituted an assembly and bowling-green in the parish of which he was Rector, but frequently promoted the gayety of the company in person. Endowed with an uncommon wit, never was that wit more successfully pointed than against those who testified any contempt for decency or religion. His extempore epigram on M. de Voltaire, who happened, in our Author's presence, to throw out a few idle sneers at Milton, and the allegorical personages of Sin and Death, is well known. Young thus addressed him; Thou art so witty, profligate, and thin; Of his sensibility we may likewise judge from an ecdote recorded of him in his clerical capacity. One nday, when preaching officially at St. James's, ading every effort to command the attention of his olite auditory ineffectual, pity for their infatuation ot the better of decorum, and, seating himself back the pulpit, he burst into a flood of tears. Towards the close of his life, sensible of his still-inreasing infirmities, he suffered himself to be in a kind of pupilage; for he considered that at a certain time of life the second childhood of age demanded its wonted protection. His son, whose juvenile follies were long obnoxious to parental severity, was at last forgiven, and, a few legacies excepted, succeeded, by will, to the whole of his father's fortune. This great and good man, (having previously ordered all his papers to be burned) after having performed all that man could do to fill his post with dignity, regretted by all, full of years, and loaded with honours, breathed his last on the 5th of April, 1765. Those who know how much our Author comprised in a small compass, and who recollect that he never employed his pen but on subjects of importance, with such the irreparable loss of his manuscripts will be ever regretted; more especially when it is considered that he was the particular friend of Addison, whom he occasionally assisted in the Spectator, and, excepting the late Dr. Pierce, Bishop of Rochester, was the only surviving genius of that incomparable group of authors who rendered the reign of Queen Anne illustrious in the annals of literature. VERSES TO THE AUTHOR. Now let the Atheist tremble, thou alone When guilty Sodom felt the burning rain, But tell me, oh! what heav'nly pleasure, tell, But thou art best delighted to rehearse 15 20 O thou hast pow'r the harden'd heart to warm, Magd. Col. Oxon. 25 30 T. WARTON. TO A LADY, WITH THE LAST DAY. MADAM, HERE sacred truths in lofty numbers told, The prospect of a future state unfold; To boundless orbs, and bids her fearless soar, IO 15 Thus did the Muses sing in early times, So the rich soil of India's blooming shores, 20 25 Where serpents lurk, by flow'rs conceal'd from sight, Hides fatal danger under gay delight. These purer thoughts from gross alloys refin'd, 39 With heav'nly raptures elevate the mind: Not fram'd to raise a giddy, short-liv'd joy, Whose false allurements, while they please, destroy; 35 Firm, solid bliss, for ever great and new, The more 'tis known, the more admir'd, like you; And all the glories of your sparkling race, 49 |