that should mark the adept; his method, I fay, was to enter in his common-place book, every night on his returning home, what he heard in company, during the day, whether good or bad, true or falfe, wife or foolish, decent or indecent, proper or improper to be reported; with the author and fubject of it, and the time of uttering; duly marking the mode and tone of voice with which it was uttered. Then pour out the whole collection on the public, in a volley, without ever reflecting whether the perfons who are thus hauled into notoriety, and forced to make up part of a literary olio, against their will and knowledge, and often to their great furprife and confufion, will be pleafed or difpleafed with your purloining their fecret thoughts and unguarded expreffions, and forcing them to walk the ftreets and meet strangers, as I may call it, in a mental nightcap and banyan. Such conduct may produce mifchief, excite quarrels, fet irreconcilable enmities between friends, and kindle active animofities between ftrangers; it may blacken the memory of the dead, and embitter the peace of the living. But what of that, my fon? Why Thould you care? You are an antiquary, and are only labouring in your vocation. Some may be weak enough to call fuch conduct a vio lation of the laws of hofpitality; fome may term it a literary grand larceny, fome may call you fool, others rafcal; nay, fome may be fo abfurd as to kick your b: but what of that? Despise it all, and confider that you are only an antiquary, and labouring in your vocation.

PHILO BOROMICUS.

LINES

WEITTEN BY THE ELDER CAPTAIN MORRIS, ON VISITING
THE HOUSE IN GRAFTON STREET, FITZROY SQUARE,
BELONGING TO THE LATE MAJOR-GENERAL KNOX, WHO
WAS DROWNED ON HIS PASSAGE TO HIS GOVERNMENT
OF JAMAICA, THE VESSEL IN WHICH HE WAS EMBARKED,
HAVING FOUNDERED IN A STORM.

"Much he admir'd the place, the person more.”
PARADISE LOST.

[Original]

KNOX while forrow o'er the land is fpread
For thee, untimely number'd with the dead,

Dear to thy Sov'reign, to thy country dear,
While all who knew thee name thee with a tear;
Accept my feeble praife; 't is all I can,

Who only from the manfion judge the man? 2.
Here genuine elegance of tafte. I hud,

A true criterion of the master's mind;
The fimple, and the beautiful unite

To captivate the heart, and charm the fight;
In ev'ry object excellence I fee

But all, alas! are loft, in lofing thee.

Thy bright example hath conviction wrought';
I feel the truth of what I long have thought;
That all are vulgar who their riches waste,
And none but men of worth are inen of tafte.

ODE TO THE BRAIN.

From the Morning Poft.]

YSTERIOUS fource, and feat of fenfe,

Whence all our whimfies fpring,

Tnow prefume, with bold pretence,

Thy energies to fing.

The poets' celebrated fount

(Whate’er its title be),

That fprung from old Parnaffus' mount,

Was but a type of thee.

1

Thou art the true Pierian well, :
From which great Honier drank,
And all those bards that fince excel,
Throughout the claffic rank.

Thy infpiration Maro crown'd
With everlasting fame;
Hence lyric Horace lives renown'd;
Hence Milton's epic name.

Hence Shakspeare ftill fupremely fhines
In the dramatic sphere;

Hence flow'd the fweet defcriptive lines
That fung the circling year.

Hence Pope and Prior charm by turns ;
Hence Goldfith's polifh'd lays;
And hence, lamented Scottish Burns!
Thy recent claim to praise.

To thee, too, fentimental fource!
Each lofty fon of profe

His tale's effect-his moral's force

His varied beauties owes.

Plutarch and Tacitus of yore

Thy vifions did illume;

With many a fam'd historian more,

Down to the day's of Hume.

Nor lefs indebted to thy aid

Is Eloquence confefs'd;

From thee the learns to roufe, perfuade,
And rule the human breast.

Thou taught'ft Den ofthenes's tongue
To lead the Grecian throng;

From thee those pow'rful periods (prung,
That Cicero roll'd along.

When British Fox pours forth the tide

Of argument fo clear,

Thou art the intellectual guide

That governs its career.

Philofophy

Philofophy, led by thy light,
Her deep researches makes;
Aftronomy her boldeft flight
Beneath thy guidance takes.

Great Newton hence, on eagle wing,
Through boundiefs fyftems foar'd;
Hence learned Locke each hidden spring
And maze of mind explor❜d.

When Painting leads Tafte's raptur'd eye
Her mimic fcenes among;
When Mufic wakes the symphony
Of foul-entrancing fong;

Thy nervous influence alone

The zeft, the pleasure gives;

And Painting's tint, and Mufic's tone,
From thee its charm receives.

But, ah! if Melancholy's clouds
Obfcure the mental fun-

If round thy feat diftemper'd crowds
Of wild conceptions run;

Then Genius, Judgment, Fancy, fink
In the tremendous gloom,

And Madneís rends each focial link,
Regardless of her doom!

Dromore.

T.S.

THE LAWSUIT.

CALENUS, when his purse was light,
Got twenty guineas as a loan,
Swearing he would repair his plight,
And pay me ere a week was gone.
A year went off-the lawyer Aulus

Perfuades me to commence a fuit,
Crying, "The rafcal fha'nt cajole us,
The ftory cannot bear dispute !"

But,

But, lo! this paper war has lafted

Longer than Homer's fiege of Troy;
Ten times my debt has Aulus wafted,

And ten times more would fain destroy.

Now fince I'm not so rich as Clive,
Nor yet for Neftor's age defign'd,
I'll quit the combat while alive,

Nor force my heir to purchase wind.

Calenus at the triple tree

Ought furely his fuccefs to tell:
But Aulus no fufficient fee

Can hope for-till he reaches H-!

Novus

THE

THE COURT OF DEATH.

[From the New Joe Miller.]

HE fupreme tyrant Death lately held a grand court,
Of difcafes and doctors the awful refort;

Here appear'd parfons, fextons, and grim undertakers,
All th' attendants of death, down to epitaph-makers;
When the fov'reign deftroyer being plac'd on the throne,,
To th' affembly his will and high pleasure made known:
"My friends and fupporters! I've call'd your attend-

ance,

Knowing well that on you I may place my dependance;
For though kings on the earth, and their minifters still
War will ever purfue, and bring grift to my mill;
You, at all times and feafons, in peace and in war,
Or for pleafute or pay, daily drag to my bar

Those poor wretches who come within reach of your claws,
Whom you force to obey my immutable laws.
But with grief I announce, that in London refides.
One who laughs at our threats, and our projects derides;
ISAAC SWAINSON his name-a true friend to mankind,
And a foe to all those who with us are combin'd:
But why need I go farther? for each of you well knows
The accurfed preparer of SYRUP DE VELNOS.

Yoll,