by a pond, upon which the young inhabitants of the neighbouring villages were failing up and down in fmall boats, ambitious of outftripping each other: on the other hand were the cottages to which they were directing their courfe at a distance, which, when contrafted with the statelinefs of the Caftle, ap peared as much inferior to it, as their poor inhabitants thought themselves to its noble owner. The fcene they witneffed melted the hearts of Emily and Frederick, and prepared them for foft impreffions. They converfed upon the pleasures a country life affords to thofe enamoured of nature's charms, and the great tendency fuch views as were now before them had to meliorate the heart, and make it expand with benevolence to all the human race, particularly to those who were in diftrefs; and what they were talking about, they actually felt. Emily, accompanied by Frederick, went from one cottage to another, inquiring kindly after every individual, relieving those who were in want, and comforting and affifting those who were in bodily diftrefs. Their condefcenfion and kindnefs had fuch an effect upon thefe cottagers, that they had not words wherewith to exprefs their gratitude, which they more forcibly fhewed by their tears. Emily and Frederick could hardly forbear weeping with pleasure and fatisfaction; fuch happiness as they now felt, would have been poorly exchanged for all the fenfual gratifications which it is in the power of man to receive. In returning to the Caftle, they entered a retired walk, and for fometime feemed entranced in thought; at length Frederick, impreffed with fo much love and admiration as made him unfit for reafoning, haftily, by his looks and gefture more than by his words, declared to Emily, in the most impaffioned manner, how much he loved and adored her. Joy and aftonishment, at this unexpected behaviour, fo much overpowered Emily, that, incapable of thinking the moft prudent way of receiving fuch a declaration, the fell into his arms and burst into tears, but they were tears of joy. The thought of the Earl's difapprobation, too foon checked in a great measure their felicity, and fo many paffions, joy, fear, and hope, operating in rapid fucceffion upon their minds, rendered them unable to speak while, walking to the Caftle, and it was with difficulty that Emily got thither. Inflead of being lulled to repose in balmy fleep, Frederick and Emily were, during the night, kept awake by a va riety of contending emotions. At times they were enraptured at the discovery they had made, at times almoft in defpair at the recollection of the infurmountable objections which the Earl would have to their union, and at times indulged the hope that his great regard for them both, would induce him to give his confent when he faw that his refufal would render them unhappy. It was near their ufual time of rifing till fleep put a stop to fuch reafoning. When Frederick awoke he was furprifed at feeing a card on a table at his bed-fide addreffed to him in the Earl's hand-writing. Having haftily broke the feal, you may guefs his feelings when he read as follows: SIR, Inftead of acting up to the opinion which from the character I had received of you I was led to entertain, I find that by your cunning and infinuating manner, you have been all along endeavouring to procure the affections of my daughter, and, I am afraid, have fucceeded too well; this is therefore to acquaint you, that you muft immediately depart from this houfe, and never enter it again. You need write no answer to this, as it would be returned unopened. Both my fon and daughter are ordered not to fee you before you go away, and my fon is prohibited from ever correfponding with you in future, (Signed) ALVA. Grief and indignation at the contents of this card rendered Frederick almoft fenfelefs, and it was a long time before he was able to get on his cloaths. He walked down tairs, fcarcely knowing what he was doing; but when he came to the lobby the fight of Emily's picture, which hung there, and was fmiling upon him, nearly deprived him of reafon. He opened the outer door, which he fancied founded moufnfully, but when he was going to clofe it again his breath nearly forfook him, and he trembled as he fhut it. He defcended the fteps of the outer ftair-he looked up to the windows for Emily or Bingley-no fuch persons were to be feen-all the world feemed to have forfaken him.-Indignation, however at the Earl's behaviour at the time rushed rushed upon his mind, and armed him with refolution to leave the caftle. He walked on with a pretty firm ftep till he was nearly out of fight of the houfe, when he turned to take a farewell look of that fpot which contained all that was dear to him. At this moment he felt fuch an agitation as fhewed that other paffions operated more ftrongly upon his mind than indignation, for he continued rivetted to the fpot, gazing at the Houfe for a long time, the real picture of defpair. He at length fet out without thinking in the leaft whither he should direct his courfe. It was a day equally beautiful with the preceding evening, that evening in which Frederick was fo much fatisfied with himfelf and all mankind; but the mind of Frederick was now changed, grief was the ruling paffion and nothing afforded the leaft pleasure. The fields looked gay without being obferved, a delightful profpect frequently prefented itself, but it did fo in vain, for the beauties of nature had now no charms, and it would have been more congenial to his mind, had nature worn a gloomy and terrific af pect. He ruminated upon this world and its inhabitants. He looked upon mankind as madmen, their infanity occafioned by baubles dug out of the earth denominated gold and filver, which occafioned diftinctions in fociety called titles and honours, to obtain which they facrificed the happiness of themselves, and thofe who fhould be neareft and deareft to them; virtue, talents, and every good quality being confidered of no confequence; and he thought that, now deprived of the object of his affections, it would be a difagreeable fituation to dwell for any length of time, among people guided by fuch trifles, and that it would be better to run the risk of vifiting that "undiscovered country, from "whole bourne no traveller ere returns to tell what's doing on the other fide." He was in this foliloquy when he came to the banks of a deep river, and he immediately refolved to leap into it, in order to put a period to all his troubles. He run to the edge of it with a wild and hurried ftep, and was juft going to plunge into the ftream, when a loud cry from fome perfon at a little diftance ftopped his progrefs, recalled him to himself, and broke the charm which had for fome time bound him. His conduct he immediately viewed in the moft 66 aggraving light, and he wondered at daring to do a deed, at the thought of which he now revolted with horror. Emily, Lord Bingley, and his own relalations rushed upon his mind, and the confideration of their virtues foon convinced him that all the world were not madmen, but that he himself had been one for fome time. In fhort, he again looked upon the world in the light he was wont to view it; only with a more heavy heart. He went to thank the perfon who, had done him fo much fervice. He was a day-labourer in the neighbourhood, who after the fatigues of the day, had been refting himself at the edge of the river, and from the fudden ftarts, difordered looks, and hafty fteps of Frederick, fufpected his intention, and had been the means of preventing it being put in execution, as already mentioned. Frederick rewarded the peasant for the great service he had rendered him, and it being now late, and finding himself much fatigued, he went to his cottage, where he lodged all night. He awoke in the morning completely cured of the phrenży occafioned by the Earl's letter, although the contents of the letter ftill wounded him in the moft fenfible manner. He found himself as far from his father's, as when he fet out from Alva Caftle, and after receiving some refreshment, he took a kind farewell of that man to whom he owed his life, and then repaired to the neigbouring village where he procured a conveyance to Belgrave House. He had refolved not to inform his friends of the caufe of his departure from the castle, and he was glad to find, that from his long refidence there, they had been for fome time expecting him, which rendered it unneceffary to enter into any explanation as to his fudden appearance. It was with great difficulty that Frederick could reftrain his grief fo far as to prevent his friends from obferving it. He, however, fucceeded, but being thus obliged to confine it to himfelf rendered him ftill more unhappy. The world now appeared to him as a dreary wildernefs, and every thing that formerly feemed chearful, now difpleafed him. Upon Emily his thoughts continually dwelt. She loves me, would he exclaim, I know fhew loves me, in that bleffed moment, when holding her to my heart, when blufhing the reclined her head upon my bofom, and confeffed her affection, what different afpect; his eye brightened, and he was all life and animation. In the meantime, however, altho' he faw the propriety of paying attention to the ftrict commands of the Earl to have no correfpondence with Emily, yet when he confidered that he was obliged to depart from the caftle without entering into any explanation of his intentions in confequence of the Earl's letter, he could not think of leaving her, probably for ever, without bidding her farewell. He accordingly wrote a letter, in which he expreffed the exquifite happiness he felt at the affurance of her regard;-explained the reafon why it would be proper, in future to pay the ftricteft attention to the Earl's unpleasant order, and why, in this inftance, he had tranfgreffed it; affured her of his unalterable attachment ;but as there were no profpect of the obftacles which ftood in the way of their union being ever removed, recommended to her to look upon him as if he never had been. This letter he got forwarded to Emily by a fervant of the castle in whom he could confide, whose relations lived near to Belgrave House. in our next.) extacy did I feel! Why, Oh! why at that L O from Bellona's crimfon car At length the panting Steeds un- At length the Thunder of the War In feftive fhouts of Peace is drown'd; Yet as around her Monarch's brow, Britannia twines the Olive Bough, Bold as her Eagle-eye is caft On hours of recent Tempest past: 'Thro' the rude Wave and adverfe Gale, When Free the fpread her daring Sail, Immortal Glory's Radiant Form, Her guiding Load-star thro' the Storm; Directed by whose golden ray, Thro' Rocks and Shoals fhe kept her steady way; "My Sons," he cries, Guerdon claim, "Unfoil'd my Parent Worth, unstain'd their Sovereign's Fame!" "C can Honour's Albion! tho' oft by dread alarms, Thy native Valour has been tried, Ne'er did the luftre of thy Arms Shine forth with more refulgent pride, Than when, while Europe's Sons dif may'd Shrunk recreant from thy mighty aid; Ufelefs the danger and the toil, While on Marengo's fatal Plain, Faithful to Honour's tie, brave Auftria bleeds in vain. Not fir'd by fierce Ambition's flame, To fuccour and protect his nobler Aim. His Guardian Arm, while each Hefperian Vale, While Lufitania's vine-clad Mountains hail, Their Ancient Rights and Laws reftor'd, The Royal Patriot fheaths th' avenging Sword; By Heaven-born Concord led, while Plenty fmiles, And fheds her Bounties wide to bless the Sifter Ifles. THE NEW YEAR, AN ODE, IME, always on the fwift career, T Hath flung behind another Year, And ufher'd in the New; What's past's no more-and what'sto come "Tis doubtful who may view! Where all our thoughts are bent. The wretch who deats on treasur❜d ore, Th' ambitious man will say: Shall bend and own my fway. Comparifon our guide; And learn what Heav'n deny'd. Whence fpringsthepow'rful thought? Some unexpected chance, our dreams Of temp'ral blifs, and high-built schemes, May ev'n turn to nought. When fancy leads him, a mistaken wight! For the Edinburgh Magazine. LOVE:-AN ODE. "OW fweet the commerce of delight, Fair climes, adieu! where late I fondly H That fympathetic spirits move Aray'd, Led by the charmer Hope o'er fairy ground, Snatch'd at the laurel leaf, my brows to fhade, And grafp'd a thorn,-with thorns 'tis compas'd round. Farewell the ramble 'mid thofe claffic bow'rs That Helicon's tranflucent waters lave; Farewell the fongs of the Pierian pow'rs, And all the vifionary hours they gave; The ftarv'd poetic crew that round my board Neceffity, in legions, caus'd to prefs; Reflection ftrips them, in delib'rate hour, Yet reafon yields her joys of humbler kind: And smiling, chase corroding care away. Pow'r of the placid mien, that poets fcorn, To every breast that knows her, joy she brings, How sweet the myftic ties unite, Youth's mutual breaft in magic Love! Love, firft, beft boon of lib'ral Heaven, Cement of earth and skies above; To men and feraphs only given, Thofe, chafte too long; thefe, flame in Love! Spark of the altar-topping flame, That fumes before the throne of God, Sweet remnant of the garden's bliss, And raise the thought, by steps; to Hea ven: By thee the grofs-grown heart refin'd, Thro' union, more ethereal grows.- Let wisdom teach my tender age, The Love more pure, the Love more juft. So let the Love I bear my fair, Sublime my foul to higher Love; Thus may we, link'd in bofom, here, Foretafe the blifs of Love above. Oma. For the Edinburgh Magazine. SONG. "HE bloom o' youth's on Nancy's cheek Whither within the shepherds calm fo- Tove fparks faftly in her e'e; journ, Or all beneath the palaces of Kings. Oh! then, fince we have long her voice defpis'd, Let us, my friend, endeavour now to find The path of common fenfe, fo little priz'd, So much neglected by the fcribbling kind. Then, when the fit of writing verse is o'er, When the delufions yield to reafon's sway, When bufinefs our attention calls once more, And rags depart, and hunger flies away; With thee life's dear delights I yet may prove, To thee my full heart tell its joys profufe; Fortune, with fmiles fhall all my toils approve, And my foul blefs the day I left the Mufe. Bristo Port, 12 Jan. 1802. Ed. Mag. Jan. 1802. 'Her auburne locks, fae fmooth an' fleek, I own hae quite enchanted me: Her cottage ftands by yonder hill; My way lies thro' yon lonef me g ove, No a' thae join'd will frighten me; I'll tak' my plaid, an' out I'll rove; An' then I'll fee the lafs I love! Her een are like twa blobs o' dew, Her breaft is o' the lily' hre, Her face is fairer than the morn : Then |