FASCINATION.

That serpents terrify birds, and to such a degree that the poor little victims flutter about and fall within their reach, I can readily believe; but to suppose that they possess any charm or power of fascination will scarcely be allowed by those who deserve the name of philosophers, or who search into the reason of things. The following occurrence towards the latter end of 1800, suggests an observation that will explain some circumstantial relations quoted in natural history:-A parrot belonging to my family, was entrusted to the care of a neighbour, during our retirement to a country house, and was placed, as usual, at the window. A dromedary happened to pass by, and stretching forth its long neck towards the parrot, affrighted the poor bird to such a degree that it fell off its perch upon its back, and remained a long time in convulsions. Why give an air of adventure and surprize? why plunge into a maze of inquiries? May not a common incident-a fright-produced by an object of terror, serve as a clue to the judgment? Would not this have been called fascination had the part of the dromedary been performed by the serpent?

LADY ARCHER, formerly MISS WEST, lived to a good age-a proof that cosmetics are not so fatal as has been supposed. Nature had given her a fine aquiline nose, like the princesses of the House of Austria, and she did not fail to give herself a complexion. She resembled a fine old wainscoted painting with the face and features shining through a thick incrustation of copal varnish.

Her ladyship was, for many years, the wonder of the fashionable world envied by all the ladies that frequented the court. She had a splendid house in Portland Place, with et cetera equal in brilliancy and beauty to, or rather surpassing those of any of her contemporaries. Magnificent appendages were a sort of scenery she gloried in-milkwhite horses to her carriage-the coachman and footman in grand, shewy liveries-the carriage lined with a silk calculated to exhibit the complexion,

&c. &c.

I recollect, however, to have seen the late Mrs. Robinson go far beyond all this in the rich exuberance of her genius; a yellow lining to her landau, with a black foot man, to contrast with her beautiful countenance and fascinating figure, and thus render both more

lovely. Lady Archer's house at Barnes Elms Terrace, was fitted up with an elegance of ornaments and drapery to strike the senses, and yet powerfully addressed to the imagination. She could give an insinuating interest to the scenes about her, which other eyes were viewing. Her kitchen garden and pleasure ground of five acres-the Thames running in front as if appertaining to the grounds-the apartments most tastefully decorated in the Chinese style-a fine conservatory opening into the principal apartment, with grapes, slow peaches, &c. at the end a magnificent sopha, with a superb curtain, all displayed with a peculiar grace, and to the greatest advantage. Much praise was due to the arrangements in her collection of green and hot house plants, the appellations of which she was well acquainted with, as also every thing relating to their history.

ADMIRAL SIR RICHARD HUGHES

was of an ancient family-ran away with Miss Sloane, descended from the family of Sir Hans Sloane; he was a midshipman with Sir Edward Hughes, who, by some mistake, put out the ejo of his friend with a fork, when about to transfix a cock roach. While ad-miral on the Halifax station, he surveyed the woods of Nova Scotia, and was introduced to the King on his return, and had an audience of two hours in the closet. He then became an admiral in the West Indies. He was a very handsome man, wore a ribbon over his eye, and was at once a poet, a musician, a well-informed man, and a most accomplished gentleman.

The late CAPTAIN HUGHES was the sou of an admiral and a baronet. This young man, heir to a good fortune, possessed of wit and humour, and undoubtedly had many of the best requisites for a gentleman. But one fault he had also, but it was a fault that precluded his advancement, ruined his constitution completely, cut his life short, and put a period to the hopes of his family and acquaintance.

Constant and habitual intoxication having at length endangered his life, a physician belonging to the fleet told him that if he persisted he would actually wear away the coats of his stomach. With a non-chalance that too strongly marked his character, he replied, "I thank you, Doctor, for your information, but in case of such an accident, which I find it difficult to provide against, it must work in its waistcoat."

Letter

encroached on yours with "screeching out prosaic verse," as poor Burns says. Will you offer my best respects to Miss Malliet, and tell Miss Hume and Miss Douglas that I look forward with pleasure to the time when I shall see them again, though I doubt it will not suit our friends so early as we talked. I am,

With sincerity and affection,

Very much your's
ANNE GRANT.

CONTENTMENT; or, if You Please, CONFESSION; by THOMAS PAINE. To Mrs. Barlow, on her pleasantly telling the author, that after writing against the superstition of Scripture religion, he was setting up a religion capable of more bigotry and enthusiam, and more dangerous to its votariesthat of making a religion of love.

O, could we always live and love,
And always be sincere,

I would not wish for heaven above,
My heaven would be here.
Though many countries I have seen,

And more may chance to see,
My little corner of the world*

Is half the world to me.

The other half, as you may guess,

America contains,

And thus between them I possess
The whole world for my pains.
I'm then contented with my lot,
I can no happier be,

For neither world I'm sure has got
So rich a man as me.

Then send no fiery chariot down
To take me off from hence,

But leave me on my heavenly ground-
This prayer is common sense.

Let others chuse another plan,
I mean no fault to find,
The true theology of man
Is happiness of mind.

T. P.

The AMOR PATRIÆ, or PATRIOTISM. The deficiency of patriotism and the defection of patriots, when all the passions of a corrupted empire figure on the stage of politics, are generally complained of. It should, however, be recollected, that those who maintain the rights of the people, expose themselves to the vengeance of kings and ministers, and that while they are lending their experience, eloquence, knowledge, and capacity, to consolidate the liberties of their country, they have only the prospect of a limited fame (evil re

sleep

'Mid rustling leaves and fountains mur muring,

Still must thy sweeter sounds their silence keep,

Nor bid a warrior smile, nor teach a maid to weep.

Not so in ancient days of Caledon,

Was thy voice mute amid the fatal crowd,

When lays of hopeless love or glory won Aroused the fearful, and subdued the proud.

At each according pause was heard aloud Thine ardent sympathy, sublime and high,

Fair dames and crested knights attentive bow'd,

For still the burthen of thy minstrelsy Was knighthood's dauntless deed, and beauty's matchless eye.

O, wake once more! how rude soe'er the hand

That ventures o'er thy magic maze to stray,

O, wake once more! though scarce thy skill command

Some feeble echoing of thine earlier lay:

Though harsh and faint, and soon to die

away,

And all unworthy of thy nobler strain, Yet if one heart breathe higher at the sway, The wizard note has not been touched

in vain,

Then silent be no more! Enchantress wake again!

Sweet Teviot on thy silver tide,

The glaring bale-fires blaze no more,

No

No longer steel-clad warriors ride
Along thy wild and willow'd shore.
Where'er thou wind'st by dale and hill
All, all is peaceful, all is still,

As if thy waves, since Time was born, Since first they roll'd their way to Tweed, Had only heard the shepherd's reed,

Nor started at the bugle horn. Unlike the tide of human time,

Which, tho' it change in ceaseless flow, Retains each grief, retains each crime, Its earliest course was doomed to know. And darker as it downward bears, Is stain'd with past and present tears. Low as that tide has ebbed with me, It still reflects to memory's eye The hour my brave, my only boy Fell by the side of great Dundee. Why, when the volleying minstrel play'd Against the bloody Highland blade, Why was not I beside him laid? Enough! he died the death of fame, Enough! he died with conquering Græme.

walwrkin

February 17, 1810.

LORD NELSON.

I visited Lord Nelson relative to my History of the War. On the Neapolitan subject he was as impetuous in language as in gesture, two or three times clapping his hand on his sword, and once drawing it half out. When he had calmed himself on his questionable conduct in that business, I directed the discourse to the battle of the Nile, and becoming tranquil, he drew on a sheet of paper, a sketch of the positions, and entered minutely into a description of his manœuvres. I thought the sketch curious, and begged to be allowed to bring it away.*

A MODERN MAZARINADE. Cardinal Mazarine retired for a time from the helm of state, but it was only to devise the means of evading odium, and by his underhand encroachments and machinations to render his power more secure. The adroitness displayed by the wily churchman in those, his systematic attempts, seems to have been copied, in some measure, by Mr. Pitt, when he permitted his friend Mr. Wilberforce to move for a specious inquiry into his own conduct!

* Of this curious document we have judged it worth while to present our readers with a fac-simile, perhaps the most accurate ever made; and it is just to say, that we are indebted for its perfection to Mr. I. GREIG.

The DUCHESS of PORTLAND. On the proposal of parliament to purchase the Bulstrode papers, her Grace, with characteristic public spirit, addressed the following handsome letter to the Speaker, which is now printed from the original :

To the Right Hon. Arthur Onslow,
SIR,

As soon as I was acquainted with the proposal you had made in the House of Commons, in relation to my father's collection of manuscripts, I informed my mother of it, who has given the Duke of Portland and me full power to do therein as we shall think fit; though I am told the expense of collecting them was immense, and that if they were to be dispersed they would probably sell for a great deal of money, yet as a sum has been named, and as I know it was my father's, and is my mother's intention that they should be kept together, I will not bargain with the public. I give you this trouble, therefore, to acquaint you that I am ready to accept of your proposal on condition that this great and valuable collection shall be kept together in a proper repository, as be called by the name of The Harleian an addition to the Cotton Library, and Collection of Manuscripts.

lieve that I do not consider this as a
I hope you do me the justice to be-
sale for an adequate price; but your
idea is so right, and so agreeable to
what I know was my father's inten-
tion, that I have a particular satisfac-
tion in contributing all I can to facili-
tate the success of it.
I am, Sir,
Your most obedient, humble Servant,
M. CAVENDISH PORTLAND,
mother of the late and grandmother
of the present Duke of Portland.
April 3, 1753.

PERSIAN VERSE translated into
ENGLISH PROSE.

I saw my moon-like beloved in the wounded her hands, but she only garden, gathering roses; the thorn smiled. I asked the cause of her laughter; in answer, she cried, the rose from envy of superior charms has wounded hands. my