before him, he had long very much dreaded the pains of death, but to his own great comfort, this dread he completely overcame. The sacrament had been frequently administered to him during his confinement, and he received it for the last time a few days before his death. About the time of his departure, as his Curate was standing by his bedside, he requested him to read the 71st Psalm, which was no sooner done, than he took him by the hand, and said, with great mildness and composure," If this be dying, "Mr. Sims, I had no idea what dying was before;" and then added, in a somewhat stronger tone of voice, "thank God, thank God, that it is no worse." He continued sensible, after this, just long enough to take leave of his children (a son and a daughter) who being both settled at no great distance, had one or other been very much with him since the loss of his dear companion, and had done every thing in their power to alleviate his sorrows and to comfort him; and, on the morning of the Epiphany, he expired, without a groan or a sigh." And when Jacob had made an end of commanding his sons, he gathered up his feet into the bed, and yielded up the ghost."

APPENDIX.

(No. I.)

Written at a Seat, under some sequestered Oaks, in a natural Wilderness, near Gestingthorpe.

A MONASTIC ODE.

SOLITUDO quam dilecta !
Hinc in cœlum via recta.
Procul est insanitatis
Et theatrum vanitatis.
Plebs si sævit, hic sedebo,
Et quæ suprà sunt videbo.
Mecum angeli cantabunt,
Cæli Dominum laudabunt.
O si semper sic sederem,
Mundi turbas nec viderem !
Me dum tollent angelorum
Grex ad Paradisi chorum ;
Et, ut sanctus eremita,
Dulci requiescam vitâ.

The same in English, by the Author.

HAIL, Solitude! how sweet thy shade,
For holy contemplation made!

Far from the world, no more I see
That stage of sin and vanity.

While nations rage, my ravish'd sight
I lift to realms of peace and light,

And

And hear celestial voices sing
The praise of their IMMORTAL King,
Here would I sit, to peace consign'd,
And leave a troubled world behind,
Till Angels waft me hence, to rest
In Paradise among the blest;

With hermits there to taste of bliss,

Who walk'd with God in shades like this.

WILLIAM JONES.

Gestingthorpe, Sept. 26, 1792.

The foregoing verses having been sent to a friend, then at Brighthelmstone, the following reply to them, in the same Latin and English measure, was received by the return of the post.

HEU quam debiles querelas!
Tune gemis, tune anhelas?
Tune, miles Christianus,
Detrahis invictas manus,
Æmulusque monachorum,
Oblivisceris laborum?

Estne tempus dormitandi,

Otiumque efflagitandi,

Hostium dum turmæ ingentes,

Improbe superbientes,

Acriter fideles premunt,

Signa tollunt, clamant, fremunt?

NON PER SYLVAS, SED PER CASTRA,

NOBIS ITER EST AD ASTRA,
Te, Supremus Dux Salutis,
(Vestibus cruore imbutis *,)

a Apoc. xix. 13.

Esai. lxiii. 1, 2, 3.

Advocat

Advocat commilitonem ;
Præbet Spiritûs mucronem,

Et post pugnam, (quam pugnare
Turpe et fædum recusare,)
Brevem pugnam, licèt duram,
Monstrat gloriam futuram.

In English, by the same.

ALAS, in what inglorious strains
My once heroic friend complains!
Wilt thou, a gallant vet'ran, yield,
And, still unconquer'd, quit the field?
Enamour'd of monastic ease,

Say, dost thou pant for shades like these?
Is it a time to seek repose,

When, all around, insulting foes,
A furious, rash, impetuous throng,
Eager for combat, rush along,
Their banners raise with hideous cry,
And truth, and God himself, defy?

Not through the silence of the groves,
Which pensive meditation loves,
But through fierce conflicts and alarms,
The din of war, the clang of arms,
And all the terrors of the fight,
The Christian seeks the realms of light.
Foremost amidst th' ensanguin'd flood,
(His sacred vestments dipt in blood)
On thee thy Saviour casts his eyes;

66

My fellow-soldier, hail!" he cries. Consign'd to thee by his command The sword of truth adorns thy hand;

a Ep. D. Paul, ad Ephes. vi. 16.

He

He bids thee wield it on the plain,

Bids thee his own great cause maintain,
And, after one laborious day,

To endless glory points the way.

GEORGE HENRY GLASSE.

Brighthelmstone, Sept. 29, 1792.

(No. II.)

GULIELMUS JONES amicissimo suo

charissimæ sororis obitum lugenti.

Luctuosi

Gemitibus tuis respondent suspiria mea. quod scripseris ab alio prius acceperam, maximo quidem cum dolore. O si quidquam solatii ex verbis meis accederet! Amici enim loquela morentis animi medicina. Si per ægritudinem liceat, fac tecum recogites, quæ sæpius cogitavisti. Abiit, non periit: mortalis desideratur, immortalis reperietur; ex infirmâ validam, fragili æternam, caducâ beatam habebis. Quotidianis laboribus, ut anteà, te exerceas: mens variis negotiis occupata non vacat dolori. Tempus novas cogitationes afferet; at super omnia Fides, et nobiscum DEUS. Interiit, quæ habuit te fratrem observantissimum, diligentissimum, piissimum: at restant plurimi, quibus te salvo est opus. Vivas, valeas, et perdures; non oblitus amicorum, qui nec obliviscendus.

No.