and perfons which might irritate the minds of fuch of our companions as are in a great measure unknown to us; and as to those with whose history and connexions we are well acquainted, we muft, from the very nature of that acquaintance, know what fubjects and what perfons would, if brought on the carpet, excite irksome emotions in their minds. 1 am not aware of one facrifice that is exacted by the attention to this civility which I recommend, except that of abufing our neighbours; and I will venture to say, that if any one in company have a fancy fo fplenetic as not to furnish out a reasonable share of lively converfation, without being exercised in detraction (for the nicest touch of ridicule on abfentees is detraction) the general good humour of the party will not be one jot the worse if that gentleman carry the obfervance of civility fo far as to hold his tongue for the day.

There is one error into which really well difpofed perfons are apt to fall, that I must notice before I lay down my pen, because they offend against my idea of civility with the best intentions in the world, and greatly hurt, even if they do not exafperate, their friends by doing that which they labour at with a view to pleafe them. What I allude to, is the prevalent cuftom in little private parties to bring up for fubjects of bitter animadverfion and cenfure, those persons who are on ill terms with fome one in company. It is generally thought that by thus examining, condemning, and executing a man's enemies, you pay your court to him perfonally; but a diligent obferver of the human mind will know that exactly the contrary happens:

P 2

happens:-1, who have been injured, cannot help retracing in the filent involutions of my thought, all the wrongs I have fuftained, when you by your animadverfion forcibly imprefs on my attention the perfons at whose hands I have fuffered; and confequently, all the uneafinefs, all the irritation which my temper undergoes from fuch a retrospect, is wholly occafioned by your abfurd, ill-timed abuse of those perfons. It is true 1 do not at first confound in one sentiment of disgust him who has injured and him who has thus unintentionally afflicted me; but where the fame thing is often repeated, one cannot help in fome measure connecting the two ideas fo far as to feel difpleafed, though we may not know why, at our of ficious partizan; and thus it often falls out, that what was intended to conciliate efteem, becomes the first step to a coolness, if not a breach between friends. It can never be pleafing to a man to hear his enemy's name mentioned, though it be difrefpectfully; and my readers will be most obfervant of civility, if they do not even communicate to one apothecary that his competitor is dead.

X.

No. 27.

Ego apis matutina

More, modoque.

Or like the morning bee

Ho

That flies from flower to flower and culls their fweets.

HE following poem is founded on the imprisonment

THE

of Mary Queen of Scots, in the castle of Lochlevin, in Scotland. It is an epiftle fuppofed to have been written by her to Kirkaldy of Grange, who really was what he is here reprefented, a man of fincerity and character. The incidents to which the poem alludes are admirably related in Stuart's Hiftory of Scotland; and any one of my readers who may be unacquainted with them, will not mifpend his time if he should take the trouble to 'perufe that narrative.

AN EPISTLE

FROM

MARY QUEEN of SCOTS, to KIRKALDY of Grange

Leagued as thou art with those who feal my doom, Hear once my voice! and leave me to the tomb. Hear from thefe hateful walls a captive Queen;

Think what that captive is, and what has been.

What tho' thy numerous vassals crowd around,
Tho' fierce to arms the rattling trumpets found,
Thy patriot foul no mean emotion knows,
And what thy confcience feels, thy lips disclofe :
'Tis Scotland's welfare only fills thy breast-
Pride, Envy, Fear, and Intereft arm the reft.

Ah, hapless Queen! whofe memory ftill remains,
Each wrong retraces and each pang retains:
My dreams of youth Parifian pomp recals,
And joins the Louvre to Lochlevin's walls:
Now paints the time, ere Francis ceas'd to live,
Ere this unconfcious heart was taught to grieve,
When bleft in love, ador'd by generous France,
Joy fill'd my foul and beam'd in every glance;
When troops of gallant knights on bended knee
No prize demanded but one fmile from me :
When all was fplendor, all was grace around,
And polish'd wit the gay caroufal crown'd.
But now-ah cruel! all the pageants fade,
And the black contrafts rife in horrid fhade!
The gallant knights, the pomp, the joys decay,
And Scotland's Lords appear in fierce array:
On Carberry's plain the grifly bands I trace,
Bands pledg'd and fworn to work a Queen's disgrace;
Still to my eyes my fainting troops appear,

And till thy parley vibrates in my ear:
Still in my mind (Ah! loft to thee)' is borne

The firm affurance by Kirkaldy fworn.

Heav'ns!

Heav'ns fhall Kirkaldy, whofe untainted name Upholds in diftant realms the Scottish fame, Whofe faith unbroken ftrong reliance-draws, And gilds with luftre ev'n a Murray's cause ; Shall he, forgetful of his plighted word, Point at a captive Queen his conq'ring fword? Oh! ftill your knightly faith, your pledge observe, Nor crush with fetters her you fwore to ferve.

Grant that the bond your curfi associates gave,
No clouds of error caft o'er Darnly's grave;
Grant (tho' abfolv'd by Scotland's rigorous laws,
And crown'd, infidious, by his Peers' applaufe,}
That in fufpicious eyes Earl Bothwell food
Difgrac'd, and tainted with his fov'reign's blood;
Grant ev❜n that I, by amorous fancy led,
Sought, uncompell'd, a reeking traitor's bed,
Grant all the flanders of this monstrous time,
Ev'n that myself was confcious of the crime-
Yet was a compact fworn on Carberry's field,
By all acknowledg'd, and by me fulfill'd !
Alone, unfriended, Bothwell left the plain,
His penitence, his paft acquittal vain.-
Thine ears, Kirkaldy! heard my chilling word;
Thy eyes departing faw that hated Lord;
Led thro' my foldiers by thy honour'd hand,
Fearless I pafs'd to Morton's treacherous band,
Smil'd as with false respect he bent his knee,
And fear'd no treach'ryfor I trusted thee.

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