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ointment on his head, that may flow down his beard, even the Doctor's beard, and to the skirts of his coat, or cloak, &c.'

Now, verily, this may, to our friend R. D. appear to be tender mercy; but the Doctor, perhaps, would think it cruelty fufficient, were it in our Correspondent's power, as it seems to be in his will, to carry the sentence in:o execution : as, in order to receive the bonny laffie's favour, lowered down from the highest window of the highest house,' the unfortunate culprit must return to his own country!

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Art, IX. Monody on Major Andrè. By Miss Seward (Author of

the Elegy on Captain Cook). To which are added, Letters addressed to her by Major Andrè, in the Year 1769. 4to.

2 s. 6 d. Lichfield printed for the Author ; fold by Cadell, &c. London. 1781. ROM the elegant specimen of poetical abilities already ex

hibited by Miss Seward in her much admired Elegy on Captain Cook I (a character known to her, it seems, by fame only) our Readers will naturally expect a ftill higher gratification from her Monody on Major Andrè; a performance, in which, to the motives arising from public regard, are superadded others also, flowing from the tender fenfibilities of private friendship and personal esteem. Her former production abounds with Splendid and original imagery: in the present, animation and pathos are the predominant characteristics.

We mean not, however, to insinuate, that it is any way deficient in the embellishments of fancy; this, indeed, will appear from the following spirited lines with which the poem commences :

' Loud howls the storm! the vex'd Atlantic roars!
T'hy Gepius, Britain, wanders on its shores !
Hears cries of horror wafted from afar,
And groans of anguilh, mid the shrieks of war!
Hears the deep curses of the Great and Brave,
Sigh in the wind, and murmur on the wave!
O’er his damp brow the fable crape he binds,
And throws his * victor garland to the winds; ,
Bids haggard Winter, in the drear sojourn,
'Tear the dim foliage from her drizzling urn;
With fickly yew unfragrant cypress twine,
And hang the dusky wreath round Honour's fhrine.
Bids steel-clad Valour chace that dove-like bride,
Enfeebling Mercy, from his awful fide;
Where long the fat and check'd the ardent rein,
As whirld his chariot o'er th'embattled plain;
Gilded with sunny smile her April tear,
Rais'd her white arm, and stay'd th’uplifted spear;
Then, in her place, bids Vengeance mount the car,

And glur with gore th’ insatiate Dogs of War!-
I For our account of Miss Seward's Elegy, fee Rev. for June latt;
Victor garland. -Alluding to the conqueft by Lord Cornwallis.

Wish

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With one pale hand the * bloody scroll he rears,
And bids his Nacions blot it with their tears ;
And one, extended o'er th' Atlantic wave,
Points to his Andre's ignominous grave!

And shall the Muse, that marks the solemn scene,
“ As busy Fancy lifts the veil between,"
Refuse to mingle in the awful train,
Nor breathe, with glowing zeal, the votive strain ?
From public fame shall admiration fire
The boldest numbers of her raptur'd lyre
To hymn a Stranger ! --and with ardent lay
Lead the wild mourner round her Cook's morai;
While Andrè fades upon his dreary bier
And + Julia's only tribute is her tear?
Dear, lovely Youth! whose gentle virtues stole
Thro' Friendship's soft'ning medium on her soul!
Ah no!- with every strong refiftless plea,
Rise the recorded days she pass’d with thee,
While each dim shadow of o'er-whelming years,
With Eagle-glance reverted Mem'ry clears.

Belov'd Companion of the faireft hours
That rose for her in Joy's resplendent bowers,
How gaily shone on thy bright morn of youth
The Star of Pleasure, and the Sun of Truth !
Full from their source descended on thy mind
Each gen'rous virtue, and each taste refind;
Young Genius led thee to his varied fane;
Bade thee aik I all his gifts, nor ask in vain ;
Hence novel thoughts, in ev'ry luftre drest
Of pointed Wit, that diamond of the breast;
Hence glow'd thy fancy with poetic ray,
Hence music warbled in thy sprightly lay ;
And hence thy pencil, with his colours warm,
Caught ev'ry grace, and copied ev'ry charm
Whose transient glories beam on Beauty's cheek,
And bid thy glowing ivory breathe and speak.
Bleft pencil ! by kind Fate ordain'd to save
Honora's semblance from her g early grave.

Oh!

* Bloody scroll.—The Court-Martial decree, signed at Tappan, for Major Andrè's execution.

+ Julia.--The name by which Mr. Andrè addrefled the Author in his correspondence with her.

# All his gifts.-Mr. Andrè had conspicuous talents for poetry, music, and painting. The news-papers mentioned a fatiric poem of his upon the Americans, which was supposed to have stimulated their barbarity towards him.-Of his wit and vivacity, the letters subjoined to this work afford ample proof.—They were addressed to the Author by Mr. Andrè when he was a youth of eighteen.

§ Early grave.-Miss Honora S. to whom Mr. Andrè's attach. ment was of such fingular conftancy, died in a consumption a few 5

months

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Oh! while on * Julia's arm it sweetly smiles,
And each lorn thought, each long regret beguiles,
Fondly the weeps the hand which form’d the spell,
Now shroudleis mould’ring in its earthy cell !

But sure the Youth, whose ill-ftarr'd passion strove
With all the pangs of inauspicious Love,
Full oft deplor’d the fatal art, that stole
The jocund freedom of its Master's soul!

While with nice hand he mark'd the living grace
And matchless sweetness of Honora's face,
Th' enamour'd Youth the faithful traces blelt ;
That barb'd che dart of Beauty in his breast;
Around his neck th'enchanting portrait hung,
While a warm vow burit ardent from his torgue,
That from his bosom no succeeding day,

No chance should bear that talisman away.' The image of Valour chacing his dove-like bride, &c. if the epithet enfeebling, applied to Mercy, be excepted, is fingularly beautiful. It must, however, be observed, that the general idea is not altogether new, as will be obvious to any one who recollects the firIt stanza of Collins's Ode to Mercy.

If there be any part of this ingenious poem to which we would object, it should be the anathema against General Wathington. If we impartially examine the conduct of the American Chief towards his unfortunate prisoner, we shall find, that he could not, consistently with the established rules of military law, have acted otherwise than as he did. Besides, it does not appear, that he had any absolute authority to mitigate the severity of the sentence which is complained of; and even fupposing that he had, there might have been reasons why it would have been neither safe nor prudent to have exercised such discretionary power. We think it would have given a better turn to the poem, and have placed the character of the gallant Andrè in a more distinguished point of view, to have adhered strictly to well-authenticated facts, and to have represented his judges, at the same time that they were compelled by the unrelenting necessity of military justice to condemn the criminal, venerating the man, and sympathizing with the sufferer.

The Letters subjoined to this performance were written at the age of eighteen. They exhibit a picture of an amiable and ac

*

months before he suffered death at Tappan. She had married another Gentleman four years after her engagement with Mr. Andrè had been dissolved by parental authority.

Julia's arm.-Mr. Andrè drew two miniature pictures of Miss Honora

Son his first acquaintance with her at Buxton, in the year 1763, one for himself, the other for the Author of this poem.

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complished mind. To gratify our Readers' curiosity we shall lay before them the following:

· London, O&tober 19, 1769. " From the midst of books, papers, bills, and other implements of gain, let me lift up my drowsy head a while to converse with dear Julia. And first, as I know she has a fervent wish to see me a quilldriver, I must tell her, that I begin, as people are wont to do, to look upon my future profeflion with great partiality. I no longer fee it in so disadvantageous a light. Instead of figuring a merchant as a middle-aged man, with a bob wig, a rough beard, in fauffcoloured cloaihs, grasping a guinea in his red hand; I conceive a comely young man, with a tolerable pig-tail, wielding a pen with all the noble fierceness of the Duke of Marlborough brandishing a truncheon upon a sign-post, surrounded with types and emblems, and canopied with cornucopiæs that disembogue their stores upon his head : Mercuries reclined upon bales of goods ; Genii playing with pens, ink, and paper;-while, in perspective, his gorgeous vessels * launch'd on the bosom of the filver 'Thames,” are wafting to distant lands the produce of this commercial nation-Thus all the mercantile glories crowd on my fancy, emblazoned in the most refulgent colouring of an ardent imagination-Borne on her foaring pinions I wing my flight to the time when Heaven shall have crowned my labours with success and opulence. I fee sumptuous palaces riling to receive me- see orphans, and widows, and painters, and fiddlers, and poets, and builders protected and encouraged; and when the fabric is pretty nearly finished by my shattered pericanium, I caft my eyes around, and find John Andrè, by a small coal fire, in a gloomy compting house in Warnford Court, nothing so little as what he bas been making himself, and in all probability never to be much more ihan he is at present.

-But oh! my dear Honora!-it is for thy fake only I wish for wealth.--You say she was somewhat better at the time you wrote last. I must flatter myself that she will soon be without any remains of this threatening disease.

• It is seven o clock-You and Honora, with two or three more select friends, are now probably encircling your dressing-room fireplace.- What would I give to enlarge that circle! The idea of a clean hearth, and a snug circle round it, formed by a few fincere friends, transports me. You seem combined together against the inclemency of the weather, the hurry, bustle, ceremony, censoriousness, and envy of the world. The purity, the warmth, the kindly influence of fire, to all for whom it is kindled, is a good emblem of che friendship of such amiable minds as Julia's and her Honora’s.-Since I cannot be there in reality, pray imagine me with you; admic me to your conversationès ;—Think how I with for the blelling of joining them!--and be persuaded that I take part in all your pleafures, in the dear hope, chat e'er it be very long, your blazing hearch will burn again for me. Pray keep me a place ;- let the poker, tongs, or shovel represent me ;-But you have Dutch.tiles, which are infinitely better;-So let Moses, or Aaron, or Balaam's Ass be my representative

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• But time calls me to Clapton.-I quit you abruptly till to-mor. Tow: when, if I do not tear the nonsense I have been writing, I may perhaps increase its quantity. Signora Cynthea is in clouded majefty.—Silver'd with her beams I am about to jog to Clapton upon my own ftu'mps ;-Muling as I homeward plod my way--- Ah! need I name the subject of my contemplations!

Thursday I had a sweet walk home iaf night, and found the Claptonians, with their fair guest, a Miss Mourgue, very well - ivy Sillers send their amiries and will write in a few days,

• This morning I returned to town It has been the finest day imaginable-A folemn mildness was diffus'd throughout the blue horizon ;

-Its light was clear and distinct rather than dazzling; the serene beams of the autumnal fun!-Gilded hills, ---variegated woods, -glittering foires, -ruminating herds, - bcunding flocks,-all combined to enchant the eyes, expand the heart, and " chace all sorrow. but despair”- In the midst of such a scene, no lesser grief can prevent our sympathy with nature- A calmness, a benevolent disposition seizes us with sweet insinuating power. -The very brute creacion seem fenfible of these beauties;—There is a species of mild chearful-. nels in the face of a Lamb, which I have but indifferently expressid in a corner of my paper, and a demure contented look in an Ox, which, in the fear of expresiing still worse, I leave unattemped.

· Business calls me away-I must dispatch my letter, -Yet what does it contain ?.

No matter

-You like any thing better than news.-Indeed you never cold me so, but I have an intuitive knowledge upon the subject, from the sympathy which I have constantly perceived in the taste of Julia and Cher Jean.-What is it to you

or me,

If here in the City we have nothing but riot,
If the Spital-field Weavers can't be kept quiet,
If the weather is fine, or the streets should be dirty,

Or if Mr. Dick Wilson died aged of thirty ?

But if I was to bearken to the versifying grumbling I feel within me, I should fill my paper, and not have room left to increat that you would plead my cause to Honora more eloquently than the inclosed letter has the power of doing.-- Apropos of verses, you desire me to recollect my random description of the engaging appearance of the charming Mrs.

Here it is at your service-
Then rustling and bufling the Lady comes down,
With a faming red face, and a broad yellow gown,

And a hobbling out-of-breath gait, and a frown, • This little French cousin of ours, Delarife, was my sister Mary's play-fellow at Paris. His sprightliness engages my fitters exiremely. Doubrless they talk' much of him to you in their letters.

• How sorry I am to bid you adieu! Oh let me not be forgot by the friends most dear to you at Lichfield !- Lichfield! Ah! of what magic letters is that little word compos'd !-- How graceful it looks when it is written! Let nobody talk to me oí its original meaning

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