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(From Goldsmith's Deserted Village.)

(Oliver Goldsmith was one of the most distinguished poets this country has produced. He was born Nov. 1728, at Pallas, in the county of Longford. His father was a poor Clergyman, with a large family; but by the assistance of friends his son Oliver was sent to Dublin College, where in 1749 he took the degree of Bachelor of Arts. From his earliest years he had the greatest indisposition to regularity, and though much beloved by his companions and protected by his friends, could never be prevailed on to settle seriously to any profession. After trifling with several proposals, he went to Leyden to study physic; where he fell into the hands of sharpers, who fleeced kun of all his scanty supplies. In this forlorn condition be travelled through several countries of the Continent, often supported by his own music in the towns and villages through which he passed. He arrived in London' in 1756, in extreme distress, and betook himself to his pen for support. Being employed by the booksellers in several small works, he struggled through the wretched drudgery of a compiler. The beautiful novel of the Vicar of Wakefield, in which he introduced an account of his own wanderings, was the first of his works which raised him to reputation. He wrote this while under arrest for debt: and through the kinduess of his illustrious friend Dr. Johnson, who disposed of it for him for £60, he obtained his liberty. In 1765 he published his celebrated poem of The Traveller; and in 1769, the Deserted Village: from which we have selected the following beautiful extract. The Village Pasior is a faithful description of his elder brother. The latter poem carried his reputation to its height. He wrote also the Histories of England, Rome, and Greece, some Plays, and other prose works, which supplied him with ample means of independence, could he have added pru dence to his other valuable qualities. But such was his entire disregard to ecocamy, that he became involved in the greatest embarrassments; from which he was only released by his death, which took place in bis 45th year. Dr. Johnson has nemarked, that no man was more foolish when he had not a pen in his hand, or more wise when he had. The same great critic has recorded on his monument, that such were his powers of writing, he adorned every subject which he touched.]

Near yonder copse, where once the garden smil'd,
And still where many a garden flower grows wild;
There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose,
The village preacher's modest mansion rose.

A man he was to all the country dear,
And passing rich with forty pounds a year;
Remote from towns he ran his godly race,

Nor ere had chang'd, nor wish'd to change his place;
Unskilful he to fawn, er seek for power,
By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour;
Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize,
More bent to raise the wretched than to rise.
His house was known to all the vagrant train,
He chid their wand'rings, but reliev'd their pain;
The long-remember'd beggar was his guest,
Whose beard descending swept his aged breast;
The ruin'd spendthrift, now no longer proud,
Claim'd kindred there, and had his claims allow'd;
The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay,
Sate by his fire, and talk'd the night away;
Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done,
Shoulder'd his crutch, and shew'd how fields were won.
Pleas'd with his guests, the good man learn'd to glowy
And quite forgot their vices in their woe;

Careless their merits, or their faults to scan,
His pity gave ere charity began.

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
And even his failings lean'd to Virtue's side;
But in his duty prompt at every call,

He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt, for all
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries,
To tempt its new-fledg'd offspring to the skies,-
He tried each art, reprov'd each dull delay,
"Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way.

Beside the bed where parting life was laid,
And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismay'd,
The rev'rend champion stood. At his controul,
Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul;

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Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise,
And his last fault'ring accents whisper'd praise.

At church, with meek and unaffected grace,
His looks adorn'd the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway,
And fools, who came to scoff, remain'd to pray.
The service past, around the pious man,
With ready zeal each honest rustic ran;
Even children follow'd with endearing wile,

And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's smile
His ready smile a parent's warmth exprest,

Their welfare pleas'd him, and their cares distrest ;
To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given,
But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven.
As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form,
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal sunshine settles on its head.


[This little beautiful sonnet is reprinted from a small volume of Poems hy Thomas Carew, Esq. one of the gentlemen of the privie-chamber, and sewer in ordinary to his Majesty Charles I. Lond. 1640.' This elegant, and almost-forgotten writer died in the prime of his age, in 1639.].

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Monthly Retrospect of Public Affairs.

THE past month has been one of infinite political importance, in every point of view. A new reign has commenced. The nation has been occupied in paying the last tribute of mournful respect to the memory of our late revered Sovereign. The legislature has been anxiously engaged in preparing for an immediate dissolution of Parliament. The bustle which precedes a General Election has been setting conflicting opinions at work, in, every part of the country. Lastly, what we cannot state without blushing for the character of our countrymen, a most detestable plot has been just discovered, for carrying into efiect some of the most horrible of those principles, which we had hoped were confined to the theorics of those infamous writers, whom Parliament has been lately engaged in putting down. It will be our duty to notice these several events in their natural order.

- Our late Sovereign, George III, expired at his Castle of Windsor on Saturday evening, the 29th of January, at thirty-five minutes past eight o'clock. Our readers are of course all aware, that since. November, 1810, his late Majesty was incapable, from the visitation of a mental disease, of carrying on the functions of Government. The high duties of the sovereignty were therefore performed in his father's name, by the Prince of Wales, now our most gracious King. The bulletins of the physicians, during the last nine years, are the only authentic records of his late Majesty's retirement from the concerns of the world. From these it appears, that, though in the earlier stages of his malady he was subject to paroxysms which excited the most alarming apprehensions, his life, during the last six or seven years, has been one of tranquillity, though of mental aberration. In the solitude of his apartments in Windsor Castle, and in the still deeper solitude of his blindness,

Presented with a universal blank
Of nature's works,'

he was surrounded only by kind and faithful attendants, who administered every comfort to his situation, whilst they exercised that unvaried reserve upon all important subjects, which was necessary to preserve their afflicted Monarch's repose. If the late partner of his Throne visited him in his affliction, (and the mournful duty of those visits was never neglected,) it was not to speak the language of affectionate kindness, but to gaze in silence upon his sorrows, and to see that as far as the skill and care of man could relieve them, they wore


soothed and mitigated. In the hour of national foreboding, when the success of military ambition seemed almost complete, the stedfast heart of the patriot King was aroused not by his people's fears ;—in the glorious day of triumph, when every foe lay prostrate at the feet of England, and the struggles of twenty years were at length repaid, the pious King, whose prayer had ever been uplifted for his people's safety, joined not in the hymn of thanksgiving, and bowed not before that Power, from which alone he had looked for succour. In the periods of domestic happiness, or domestic misery, his mind was equally unconscious. The blooming Heiress of the British Crown received not his blessings on her union;-nor did her untimely removal draw from his eye that sacred tear which he would have shed for her loss. His spirit has fled without the consciousness that the beloved partner of his Throne had gone before him to the house of all living;'-he was finally spared the pang which a father feels when his son, in the vigour of youth and health, precedes him to the grave.

The first signs of decay in the constitution of his late Majesty appeared about two months before his death. His strength rapidly declined within the fortnight preceding that event. He expired without the slightest pain, at the time we have described; unvisited by any glimpse of returning consciousness. His affectionate son, the Duke of York, was with him in his last moments.

Our present gracious Majesty George IV. was, on the day after his Royal Father's demise, pleased to make the following declaration in Council:--

'I have directed that you should be assembled here, in order that I may discharge the painful duty of announcing to you the death of the King, my beloved father.

"It is impossible for me adequately to express the state of my feelings upon this melancholy occasion, but I have the consolation of knowing, that the severe calamity with which his Majesty has been afflicted for so many years, has never effaced from the minds of his subjects the impressions created by his many virtues, and his example will, I am persuaded, live for ever in the grateful remembrance of his country.

Called upon, in consequence of his Majesty's indisposition, to exercise the prerogatives of the Crown on his behalf, it was the first wish of my heart to be allowed to restore into his hands the powers with which I was entrusted. It has pleased Almighty God to determine otherwise, and I have not been insensible to the advantages which I have derived from administering in my dear Father's name the Government of this realm.

The support which I have received from Parliament and the country, in times the most eventful, and under the most arduous circumstances, could alone inspire me with that confidence which my present station demands.

The experience of the past will, I trust, satisfy all classes of my people, that it will ever be my most anxious endeavour to promote

their prosperity and happiness, and to maintain unimpaired the religion, laws, and liberties of the kingdom.'

His Majesty was proclaimed with great state in London, on Monday the 31st of January; and has since been proclaimed in all the Cities and Boroughs of the United Kingdom. The ceremonial by which the accession of a new Sovereign is announced to the people, is a proper acknowledgment of the constitutional maxim that the King never dies.' The public ceremonies of the accession recalled us to a proper sense of our duty to the State. While we felt as men for the departure of our late venerable and virtuous Monarch, we rejoiced that the succession was uninterrupted, and that it had descended to a prince who, in administering the government for his revered father, has ever manifested the most filial love and respect. Considerations such as these obviate the imaginary inconsistency of such an union of joy and sorrow, and teach us to regard the pageantry of the occasion, as a proper tribute of the duty and the loyalty we owe.'

His late Majesty was interred in the Royal Tomb at Windsor, (erected by himself) on Wednesday evening the 16th of February. The solemnities were conducted with the most affecting propriety; and the utmost facility was afforded to all ranks of people, to wit ness and assist in the national tribute of sorrow and respect. The remains of the Duke of Kent were interred also at Windsor, on the Saturday preceding.

-It is usual for the Legislature to meet immediately on the death of a reigning Monarch. The members of both Houses accordingly assembled immediately on the demise of our late Sovereign, to take the oaths of allegiance to his present Majesty. The Houses then adjourned till the day after the funeral. On that day the following Message from the King was presented to the House of Lords, by the Earl of Liverpool. A similar Message was sent to the House of Commons:


The King is persuaded that the House of Lords deeply participates in the grief and affliction of his Majesty, for the loss which his Majesty and the nation have sustained by the lamented death of the King his father.

This melancholy event imposing upon his Majesty the necessity of summoning, within a limited period, a new Parliament, the King has taken into consideration the present state of public business, and is of opinion that it will be, in all respects, most conducive to the public interest and convenience to call the New Parliament without delay.

The King, therefore, recommends to the House of Lords to concur in such measures as may be found indispensably necessary to provide for the exigencies of the public service during the interval which must elapse between the termination of the present session, and the opening of a new Parliament.

On the day that the Parliament met, the dreadful news arrived from France, that the Duc de Berri, the son of the heir apparent to the Throne, had been assassinated on the 13th inst. This victim of political fanaticism expired on the following morning. The wretched murderer is a man in low life; desperately attached to the party of the late usurper.

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