Thus disappointed in her worldly affections, she gives up to religion, and enters a convent, where, a short time after she has related the story, she dies.

There is a common-place tone about the story not at all to our heathenish English taste. We are stubborn enough to remain unmoved at all the mawkish sensibility and high-flown sentimentality of the heroine ; and are hard-hearted enough to affirm, we did not shed one tear during the whole of her melancholy recital.

CONRAD, and other Poems.

By T. A. TEMPLEMAN, LL.B. of Trinity College, Cambridge.

WE can pardon young gentlemen just escaped from the trammels of school, or a university, trying their pinions towards the ethereal skies. of immortality, although they are nothing better than " grey goose quills;" but when a grave Doctor of Laws, in spite of the critics, and heedless of the lash held up "in terrorem," dares to sin against the Muses and Graces, we really put on a grave face; for he cannot plead youth and inexperience, or the solicitation of friends, in abatement; the usual excuses the aspiring votaries of the Muses now-a-days offer, for sending forth to the world what they are ashamed to keep in their portfolios.

The learned author has certainly mistaken his talents, when he attempted epic poetry. It is common-place in design, and even inferior in point of execution. He has paid his court to one Muse with more success than to the others—the mirth-inspiring Thalia. The following proofs of his humourous poetry are, perhaps, as good as any thing in the volume:

"Tom once invited me to dine,

And taste some excellent port wine,-
He ask'd, and I embraced it.

A more exact man I ne'er knew;
His invite literally was true,-
He only let me taste it!"

"How is it kings and poets live so long

Within the annals fame puts forth to day?

"By his own works,' cries Tom,

the child of song

Survives his dust; how kings live I can't say.'

'O!' cries another, standing by the while,

"That poets by their works survive 'tis true:
"Their names we laud whilst we admire their style;
'But by their works survive not monarchs too?'

I know not,' cries the first; but pray explain.'
What!' cries the second, don't you truly know it,
'The king's and poet's fames survives the same?
'For 'tis the monarch's work to fee the poet.'

'Sure mortal never saw through eyes like thine,'
Cried William to an old coquetting lass.
The speech of Will, indeed, was mighty fine,
And very true, for they were made of glass.

ON GAS, THE BOXER.

"Death fought unfair with Gas; chance laid him low ;
When he was down, Death gave the fatal blow!”

THE EQUALITY OF FORTUNE.

FEW estimates are more erroneous than those which are formed as to the advantages of high birth, great inheritances, and the other external circumstances which are called the gifts of fortune. Doubtless they deserve to be prized for the influence which they confer upon their possessors; but the world is too ready to suppose that they comprehend all human felicity, and it is too apt to forget that, under the splendid guise of wealth and prosperity, there may lurk a secret inquietude, far worse to be endured than the cravings of poverty. Pomp and profusion can no more induce real comfort, than power can command tranquillity and ease.

If the frowns of fortune have doomed some men of talents to remain in obscurity, remote from the means of attaining knowledge, and surrounded by persons who could neither appreciate nor encourage the first dawnings of excellence, many a bright genius, on the other hand, has been spoilt by luxury and indolence; many have grown vain with the flatteries of interested admirers, or have frittered away invaluable endowments in the circles of frivolity and dissipation. But the seeming disadvantages of low station and mean employments, far from proving impediments to the greatness of some men, have, in reality, operated as tests of the genuineness of their high pretensions, and as exercises for developing the powers of their minds. Among the numerous uncertain traditions concerning the prince and father of Greek poetry, it is said that he was so poor, that his ballads, or poems, were his chief support. Hesiod, his great contemporary, was scarcely his superior in rank he was a shepherd, and, in the retirement of that peaceful life, he composed his poem on agriculture, which the courtly Virgil, according to his own confession, took for the model of his Georgics. The bonds of actual slavery could not resist the sallies of Æsop's genius, which not only procured his liberation, but caused his society to be sought after at the court of Croesus, who entrusted him with the high commission of consulting the oracle of Delphi. Well would it have been for sop, though not for the world, had he remained in bondage; for the freedom of his satires on the manners of the Delphians offended them so higlily, that, in order to dispatch him, they accused him of having stolen a sacred vessel belonging to the temple of Apollo; and on this charge, the poor man, who had raised himself to such a state of eminence, met his death, by being thrown from a high rock. Terence likewise was a slave, and was sold to Terentius Lucanus, a Roman senator; who, perceiving the brilliancy of his genius, gave him not only his manumission, but also a liberal education. His great abilities

and assiduity were rewarded with the patronage of Scipio, Lælius, aud other learned and powerful Romans, with whom he lived on terms of familiarity. Modern history is even more replete than ancient with instances of men who, by the force of native talents, have emerged from the obscurity of their origin. Little did it enter into the conception of Justice Pawlet, when he set Wolsey in the stocks for getting drunk, and making a disturbance, that the same Wolsey would ere long retaliate as he did, when advanced to the dignity of Lord Chancellor. Yet his method of punishing the affront was beneath the dignity of his station; it was far too severe, and reflects no credit upon his magnanimity. He caused Sir Amias Pawlet to be brought before him, and, after a severe expostulation, confined him for five or six years in the Temple, before he would set him at liberty. Such austerity in one who springs from nothing, and advances in the world by his own address, is not half so becoming as the good-natured reminiscence of old times, which distinguished Pope Sixtus the Fifth, another great man, whom fortune could upbraid with little, " quæ non fecimus ipsi." His father being a poor vine-dresser, unable to support him, placed him with a farmer, where, at the age of nine years, he became a keeper of swine. When invested with the tiara, which he seems confidently to have expected long before there appeared any prospect of his wearing it, he still remained a facetious man, and enjoyed to dwell upon the freaks and adventures of his former condition, some of which bordered upon that species of wit which is termed roguery. When he was a cordelier, he borrowed money of one Father Peter, of a certain monastery, but omitted to repay him; and hearing on his elevation that the father was still alive, he summoned him to appear at Rome, and answer some charges which were to be brought against him. The good man, who was unconscious of guilt, repaired immediately to the holy city, and came before the presence of the sovereign pontiff, who addressed him thus: "We are informed that you have misapplied the revenues of your monastery, and we have sent for you to render an account of the matter." "Holy Father," replied the monk, "I think myself altogether innocent as to that charge.' "Consider well," said his Holiness," whether you have not indiscreetly lent money to somebody, and in particular to a certain cordelier, who came to you in the year The monk having considered a little, answered, "'Tis true, holy father; he was a great knave, who obtained that money on false pretences, and a promise to return it in a short time." "Well," said the Pope, "I am that very cordelier, and will now return the money according to promise; but I advise you never to lend any more to men of that coat, who, not being all cut out for Popes, are not likely to be in a condition to pay you again." The monk, astonished to find his cordelier in the person of the Pope, offered many apologies for calling him knave. "Never trouble yourself about it," said the Pontiff;" it might be true enough at that time, but God has furnished us with means to retrieve our past offences."

In later times, under our own free constitution, which is peculiarly favourable to the spread of education, and therefore to the intellectual equality of those who live under it, the capricious distinctions of fortune, as far as regards parentage and patrimony, are, in effect, counteracted: celebrity in every branch of the fine or the useful arts, and in every

department of the state, is held up as the object of general competition. Not to prate too freely about the humble origin of many ornaments of the age, whose names will be conspicuous in history, my purpose will be better answered by adverting to one of the topics of the day, namely, the meeting for erecting a monument in honour of the late Mr. Watt, who was, about sixty years ago, neither greater nor less than a mathematical instrument maker at Glasgow. "There were to be seen," as one of our journalists eloquently expresses it, "men of all ranks, and of every party and persuasion, assembled to pay a tribute of common respect to the memory of an individual, distinguished only by his talents and his virtues. The prime minister of the country presided; the leaders of opposition supported him; the presidents of scientific and learned bodies gave their sanction to the eulogies pronounced on Mr. Watt; and the associates of his labours and his leisure testified alike to his practical skill, his persevering activity, the simplicity of his habits, and the benevolence, of his heart."

The gifts of fortune are often attended with most ruinous effects, which certainly are less perceptible among the ancient nobility and gentry, than among the immediate descendants of individuals who, by industry or genius, have founded their own fortunes. The latter, aware

that they shall reap the golden harvest of their fathers' toil, think only how they may disburse it with the greatest eclat. To get into gay society is something new for them; and, in the fulness of their purses, they care little about the cost. They are determined to figure in the fashionable scene; and if they cannot, by good dinners, costly entertainments, pecuniary accommodations, and the like, ingratiate themselves with people of the first quality, they will still possess-while their money lasts-abundance of attraction for the inferior, and especially for that detestable crew of needy, knowing, and fancy people, who are ready at all times to share the burthen of any gentleman, whose fortune appears too great to be endured. But the former are by custom fur

nished with the best education that able tutors and renowned universities can afford they are subject to the same discipline, and entered in the same lists of academical competition, which are common to those whose subsistence, in a great measure, depends upon conformity to the one, and success in the other. Their education is incomplete till they have been introduced to the best societies of Europe; they visit all that is curious, all that is beautiful, in the productions of nature and of art; they are taken to the sites and remains of ancient cities, to the scenes of those actions which are most famous in history-scenes which must kindle the loftiest and most generous feelings in every breast that is not utterly depraved. Through life, they have for associates friends. and relations, who pass through the same course of qualifications, and who, perhaps, have been distinguished in the service of their country. Their houses contain extensive libraries, valuable works of art, collections of curiosities, and, not seldom, philosophical apparatusses.They enjoy the intimate communications of men of science, who court their patronage, without which few inventions would be well received, or indeed generally known. For a motive to great actions, they have to sustain the credit of a long line of illustrious ancestors; and not only should they preserve their great name unsullied, but add to its honour, by the able discharge of those senatorial and other duties, which the

institutions of their country have imposed upon them. Such facilities of knowledge, such a daily collision of intellect, and such enobling prospects, are, I confess, the best gifts of fortune; but they are counterpoised by many circuinstances. How great must be the anxiety incidental to the maintenance of large establishments! how difficult must it be, under all the vicissitudes of times and seasons, to support the same appearance of grandeur! And yet, I fancy, there are comparatively few of the aristocracy whose stores of riches are sufficient to stand the shock of such casualties, without exhibiting symptoms of exhaustion. Custom has assigned to them a number of servants and retainers, who must be fed, and clothed, and supported, at all events; and whatever frugality may attend his lordship's table, if there is not plenty in the servants' hall, there is no peace: the thing will be noised about in every alehouse within a day's journey of the mansion. Though his possessions may be vast, and his title to them indisputable, it is very questionable whether they are really at his own command. Not only the direction of his household, but the management of his estates, is placed a little beyond his control. He must depend upon agents and underlings, who require a vigilant superintendance; the exercise of which has a strong tendency to engender habits of uneasiness and suspicion, and perhaps will gain for him the imputation of officiousness, and the annoying ill-will of his household. But by inattention and excessive liberality, his affairs are likely to get into confusion: he will then be kept poor, while his property is squandered away on undeservers; his house will be the scene of boisterous and wasteful jollisications; his name will be used without his privity for purposes of extortion and oppression; and his fame may be for ever blasted with the stigma of corruption, when, in truth, he is chargeable with no other fault than that of being too indulgent a master. Melancholy, indeed, was that piercing observation of the great Lord Verulam, who never was proved to have participated in the profits of that corruption which was carried on in his name, when, on his way to trial, he passed the room where his servants were sitting, and they rose at his presence: "Sit down, my masters; your rise has been my fall!" What honourable man is there, whom fortune holds but one grade above want, that would change his state for that of the Chancellor of England, on his way to be tried for corruption-who would not rather rejoice in a low estate and in insignificance, since to them belong ease and security, and where there is no responsibility but that which arises from our own actions?

After all, the real wants of human nature are so simple, that the means of gratification are withheld from few. Refinement and luxury may pamper the appetites, and create imaginary wants; but moderation gives a zest to the most homely fare, which renders it more palatable than the richest dainties; and contentment can lift the soul above the objects of ambition, and enliven the abodes of mediocrity with that heartfelt serenity, which rarely finds a place amid the splendours of a court.