power of pleafing flows; and is pleafed himfelf precifely in that degree in which he ought, and no more. It is true that these two qualities of tafte, delicacy and correctness, mutually imply each other. No tafte can be exquifitely delicate without being correct, nor can be thoroughly correa without being delicate. But ftill a predominancy of one or other quality in the mixture is often vifibie. The power of del cacy is chiefly feen in difcerning the true merit of a work; the power of correctness, in rejecting falfe pretenfions to merit. Delicacy leans more to feeling; correctness more to reafon and judgment. The former is more the gift of nature; the latter more the product of culture and art. Among the ancient critics, Longinus poffeffed moft delicacy; Ariftotle, most correctnefs. Among the moderns, Mr. Addison is a high example of delicate tafte; Dean Swift, had he written on the fubject of criticism, would perhaps have afforded the example of a correct one. (To be continued.) fitancy and agitation, cried the youth, "No words, 'tis not a time: your money inftantly." "Hear me, young man, come on with me: I, you fee, am a very old man, and my life of very little confequence; your's feems far otherwife. I am named Sharp, the archbishop of York; my carriage and fervants are behind, but conceal your perturbations, and tell me what money you want, and who you are, and, on the word of my character, I'll not injure you, but prove a friend; here, take this, and now tell me how much you want to make you independent of fo dangerous and deftru&tive a bufinefs as you are now engaged in." "Oh! Sir,"replied the man, "I deteft the bufinefs as much as you; I am (faultering) but--but--at home there are creditors who will not ftay; fifty pounds, my lord, would, indeed, do what no thought or tongue befides my own can feel." "Well, Sir,"refumed the prelate, "I take it on your word, and, upon my honour, if you will compofe yourself for a day or two, and then call on me at------, what I have now given fhall be made up that fum; truft me, I'll not deceive you." The highwayman looked at him, was filent, and went To the Printers of the BOSTON MA off, and,at the time appointed, ac Gent. GAZINE, If you think the following Anecdote of Archbishop Sharpe will afford any entertainment to your Readers, please to infert it. tually waited on the archbishop, was leled magnanimity, enabled just to received, and by his almoft unparalaffute his lordship, that he hoped his words had left impreffions which no inducement of want of money could IT was his lordfhip's cuftom in his ever efface. Nothing more of him journies, generally to have a fad. dle-horse attend his carriage, that in cafe of fatigue from fitting, he might take the refreshment of a ride. In his advanced age, and but a few years before his death, as he was going in this manner to his epifcopal refidence, and was got a mile or two before his carriage, a decently dreffed, well-looking young man on horfeback, came Up, and with a trembling hand, and faultering tone of voice, prefented a piftol to his lordship's breaft, demanding his money. The archbishop, with great compofure, turned about, and looking stedfaftly at him, defired that he would remove that dangerous weapon, and tell him fairly his condition. “Sir----Sir---"with great he was heard for a year and a half, or longer, when, one morning, a perfon knocked at his grace's gate, and with a peculiar earneftnefs of expreffion and countenance, defired to fee him. The bifhop ordered the ftranger to be brought in; he entered the room where his lordship was fitting, but had fcarce advanced a few steps before his countenance changed, his knees tottered, and he funk, in an instant, almoft breathless on the floor. Proper means to revive him were used, and, at length on recovering, he requested his lordship for an audience in private. The apartment being cleared, "My Lord," faid he "you cannot have forgotten the circumftances at fuch a time and place; God and gra titude titude will never fuffer them to be obliterated from my mind. In me, my Lord, you now behold that once moft wretched of mankind, and now, by your inexpreffible humanity, rendered equal, perhaps fuperior in hap: pinefs to millions of mankind.---Oh! my Lord (tears for a while preventing his utterance) 'tis you, 'tis you that have faved my body and foul; 'tis you that have faved a dear and much loved wife, and a little brood of children, whom I tendered dearer than my life; here is that fifty pounds; but no where, never shall I find a language to teftify what I feel. Your God is your witness, your deed itfelf is your glory, and may heaven, and a thousand bleffings, be your prefent and everlafting reward. I was the younger fon of a wealthy man; your lordship knew him, I am fure. My name is; my marriage alienated his affections, and my brother withdrew his love, and left me to forrow and penury. My diftreffes---but your good heart already knows them. A month fince my brother died a batchelor, and intertate; what was his has become mine, and by your aftonishing goodness am I now at once the moft penitent, the moft grateful, and most happy of my ípecies." Poetical Effays, for November, 1783. Elegiack and confolatory Tho'ts He gently flumbers to eternal reft : facred to the memory of Lieut. Around his bed, in vain phyficians Michael Knies, who died at Port Royal, Martinico, February 1783. EAR honour'd fhade! if con Dcious fenfe remains Of Friendship's ties, on Æthers happy plains: If ftill thou know'ft that once we liv'd, we lov'd, Then be this verfe, infcrib'd to thee, approv❜d; Not fuch as flattery pays at ev'ry grave, But pure affection for the good, the brave. ftand, Ye lovely ifles! by conftant fummer crown'd, Where tepid (uns and radiant skies are found. Say for what end is deckt th'enamel'd mead With fragrant herbage, and with tufted feed ; If bright Hygeia, thence withdraws her (miles, And fierce Meme fis, roams the Indian ifles. VII. Would Gracious Heaven my ardent with attend, No more fhould dews or cooling fhowers descend; The cloud capt hill, the humble vally fade, And beafts, not men, like tenants of the shade. "Recal the thought---fome gentle "fpirit fays, But now alafs! on earth's indulgent "Nor with thy friend, on times tem breaft, peftuous feas. "Lament To dine, to breakfast, and to sup, How foon they'l eat a fortune up! But not a friend fincere and true, You'l find among the fpunging crew; Reverse the fcene, and fhut your door, Give out that you're reduc'd and poor; All further intercourse will ceafe With you, and those who've eat your geefe ; As cats from falling houses fly, Thus Bubble at his feftive board Would dub him oft a generous fellow ; Lord, how on Saturdays the fifh, oil, He fees that friendship flies the places, Where boon companions, fhew their faces. Ye men of wealth hence wildom learn, And in your choice of guests dif cern Between the man of real merit, The Spirit of Contradiction. HE very fillieft things in life, Create the moft material ftrife. What fcarce will fuffer a debate Will oft produce the bittereft hate, It is, you lay---I fay, tis not, Way you grow warm, and I am hot; Thus each alike with paffion glows, And words come firft and after blows. Friend Jerkin had an income clear, Some fifteen pounds or more a year, And rented on the farming plan, Grounds at much greater fums per ann. A man of confequence no doubt, Sing a good fong, and drink his ale. Herair not bad, but rather vain; A charming housewife, ne'er the lefs, Tell me a thing the could not drefs, Soupe, hafhes, pickle's, pudding, pies, Nought came amiss, she was so wife. For the, bred twenty miles from town, Had brought a world of breeding down: And Cumberland had seldom feen No! Miftrefs Jerkin was her name; E She could harangue with wondrous grace On gowns, and mobs, and caps, and lace. Such was our man and wife, Once on a time, the season fair, Here Sally, take away my gun, Done, what, my love! your wits are wild, Starling, my dear, they're thrushes child; Nay now but look confider wife, Pray for take back your dirty word, And marr the powers of contradic tion. Peace foon enfu'd, and all was well, It were imprudent to rebel ; Or keep the ball up of debate, Against the arguments of weight. A year roll'd on in perfect ease, 'Twas as you like, and as you please, 'Till in its courfe and order due, Came March the twentieth, fifty two, Quoth Sally, this is charming life, No tumults now, no blows, no ftrife. What fools we were, this day last year, Lord! how you beat me then my Again the felf fame wrangle rofe, |