vifit from the fon of the Mogul, who had been driven from his father's territories by a back-ftairs Minifter, to whofe junto (the Prince faid) his father was an abject flave. We are now, faid Mr. S. on a serious impeachment, which an Hon. Friend of mine has pledged himself to bring forward; he thought nothing (hould be hidden from the Houfe. But he was forry to fee that Ministers ftood aloof. Having alluded to what had been fuppofed to have fallen from Mr. Dundas in a former debate, "That the latter part of Mr. Haftings's conduct ferved as an atonement for his prior mifmanagement;" Mr. Dundas rofe, and denied the affertion.

A

Mr. Sheridan then wished to refer to printed documents. He affirmed that Mr. Dundas had faid, that if he had at that time

belonged to the Court of Proprietors, he would alfo willingly have confented to a vote of thanks to Mr. Haftings. If he difapproved of Mr. Haftings's conduct, he would certainly never thank him for his demerits. Confidering, therefore, all these circumftances, he was of opinion, that people would naturally believe that the Right Hon. Gentleman (Mr. Dundas) had carried himself into power by profecuting one delinquent, and that he had retained his eminence by protecting another.

Major Scott warmly defended the conduct of Mr. Haltings; and faid that Major Browne would be in town in eight or ten days.

Lord North made a humourous speech on the occafion, in favour of the motion, and kept the Houfe in a roar. At length,

The Houfe divided, Ayes 73, Noes 140.

POE

TO WILLIAM PARSONS. Efq. By Mrs. PIOZZI.

WHILE

"HILE Venus infpires, and fuch verses you fing,

As Prior might envy and praife; While Merry can mount on the eagle's wide wing,

Or melt in the nightingale's lays; On the beautiful banks of this claffical stream

While Bertie can carelessly rove, Dividing his hours and varying his theme With Philofophy, Friendship, and Love;

In vain all the beauties of nature or art

To roufe my tranquillity tried; Too often, faid I, has this languishing heart For the charms of celebrity figh'd: Now footh'd by foft mufic's feducing delights,

With reciprocal tenderness bleft, No more will I pant for poetical flights, Or let vanity rob me of relt.

*The Slave and the Wrestlers, what are they' to me!

From plots and contention remov'd; + And Job with ftill lefs fatisfaction I fee,

When I think on the pains I have prov'd. It was thus that I thought in oblivion to drown

Each thought from remembrance that
flows;

Thus fancy was stagnant, I honeftly own,
But I call'd that ftagnation repose.

Now wak'd by my countryman's voice once again

To enjoyment of pleafures long past, Her powers elastic the foul fhall regain,

And recal her original taste :

Like the load ftone which long lay conceal'd in the earth

Among metals that glitter'd around, Inactive her talents, and only call'd forth When the ore correfpondent was found.

To Mrs. PIOZZI,

IN REPLY.

Written on the Anniversary of her Wedding, July 25, 1785:

THO' "footh'd by foft mufic's feducing delights,

"And blefs'd with reciprocal love," Thefe cannot impede your poetical flights,

For ftill friends to the Mufes they prove. Then fitting fo gaily your table around,

Let us all with glad fympathy view What joys in this fortunate union abound, This union of wit and virtù!

May the day which now fees you so mutually bleft

In full confidence, love, and efteem, Still return with increase of delight to your breast,

And be Hymen your favourite theme: Nor fear that your fertile ftrong genius can fail;

All thoughts of stagnation difpel: The fame which fo long has attended a Thrale,

A Piozzi alone can excell

Permit me, Druid, here to stray,

And ponder 'mid thy drear retreat; To wail the folitary way

Where Wildom held her hallow'd feat: Here let me roam, in spite of Folly's fmile, A penfive pilgrim, o'er each pitied pile. Poor ghoft! no more the Druid race Shall here their facred fires relume; No more their fhow'rs of incenfe blaze,

No more their tapers gild the gloom. Lo fnakes obscene along the temples creep, And foxes on the broken altars fleep. No more beneath the golden hook

The treasures of the grove fhall fall, Time triumphs o'er each biafted oak,

Whole power at length shall cinth the ball. Led by the wrinkled power with gladden'd mien,

Gigantic Ruin treads the weeping scene.
No more the bards in strains fublime

The actions of the brave proclaim,
Thus refcuing from the rage of Time

Each god-like deed approv'd by Fame. Deep in the duft each lyre is laid unftrung, Whilft mute for ever stops each tunelul

And barter darknefs for the rich illumes That give your huge folemnity a fmile. Ye limpid fhcets, that trickle thro' the grove

O'er banks of pebble! hail, delightful itreams,

Where Nature dictates ev'ry thought to rove,
The lover's rapture, or the poet's dreams.
In vain ve fwell! the foaming eddies round
Involv'd in duik, your ringlets claim no
charm:

Yet as you rush across the rural ground,
Indulge my fancy with a foft alarm.

Ye lovely herds, be gone to flumb'ring folds; Sweet reft! that knows no horrid pangs of thought!

No confcious guilt difturbs your happy holds,

Nor luft of pow'r-that pow'r fo dearly bought!

And you, ye choir, whofe Hallelujahs ring

In floating wa bles thro' the early breeze, Cease your loud fonnets, till the day fhail Spring,

And feek repofe in yonder awful trees. This grey-clad fcene, remote from common view,

Where by yon gliding brook and tufted

bow'r

March 14.

W. THOMAS.

Suppofed to be fpoken by a BIRD to a YOUNG GENTLEMAN about to de prive her of her NEST.

PIT That rend my anxious breaft;

the tears of plaintive woe,

Before this hour I knew no foe,
To rob me of my neft.

But now, alas! what doom awaits

From thofe mifchievous hands;
No more the fweet, the jocund mates
Shall meet in merry bands;

But general mourning fill the choir;
The warbling fongfters ceafe;
A fhock fo fudden, and fo dire,
To rob us of our peace.

Ceale

Ceafe then, rafh youth! fuch favage deeds,
And learn a nobler aim:

No hunger's calls, no preffing needs,
Can justify thy claim.

Struck with the all-refulgent ray
Of Truth's benignant pow'r,
He left the bird to fing her lay,
And charm the heav'nly bow'r.

THE SOCIAL FIRE.

W

Hen beating rains and pinching winds
At night attack the lab'ring hinds,
And force them to retire-

How fweet they pals their time away
In fober talk, or ruftic play,

Befide the Social Fire.

Then many a plaintive tale is told
Of those who, ling'ring in the cold,

With cries and groans expire.

The mournful itory trikes the car,
They heave the figh, they drop the tear,

And blefs their Social Fire.

The legendary tale comes next,
With many an artful phrafe perplext,
That well the to. gue might tire;
The windows thake, the drawers crack,
Each thinks the Ghott behind his back,
And hitches to the fire.

Or now perhaps fome homely fwain,
Who fann'd the Lover's flame in vain,
And glow'd with warm deure,
Relates cach ftratagem he play'd
To win the coy difdainful inaid,
And eyes the Social Fire.
To thefe fucceed the jocund fong,
From lungs lefs musical than trong,
And all to mirth aspire;
The humble root returns the found,
The focial Can moves briskly round,
And brighter burns the fire.

Oh! grant, kind Heav'n, a ftate like this,
Where fimple ignorance is blifs;

'Tis all that I require:

Then, then-to fhare the joys of life,
I'd feek a kind indulgent wife,
And bless my Social Fire.

EPITAPH

On a DEISTICAL WRITER. ENEATH this fod a daring Author lies, Who Heav'n's protection in his works denics;

B

For novel fyftems rack'd his fruitful brain;
For Reafon ftrove, but ftrove, alas in vain.
Thus dreaming on, to self-concent allied,
He liv'd in folly, and in ignorance died.

On a YOUNG LADY expreffing her partiality for the WEEPING WILLOW.

FAR let the weeping willow reft!

(That melancholy tree)

Nor forrow ever be thy guest,¡

Or find a home with thee.

glacis.

FEBRUARY 25,

Garden, for the benefit of the widow

of the late Mr. Henderson. On this occafion Mrs. Siddons, to testify her respect for the deceased, came to Covent-Garden and performed the part of Belvidera, and spoke a prologue written by Mr. Murphy. Mrs. Abington performed Lady Racket in Three Weeks after Marriage. The whole of the pit was laid into the boxes, and there was one of the molt numerous and brilliant audiences that have been feen this season.

March 4. Mrs Siddons appeared for the first time in Hermione in the Diftreffed Mother, for her own benefit, at Drury Lane.

9. The Captives, a Tragedy by Dr. Delap, was acted at Drury-Lane. The scene is on the coaft of Scotland, near the Orkneys; and the fable is founded on fome of those events which tradition relates, confisting of depredations committed by the Kings of Scotland on the Princes of the Ifles, and their attendant circumstances. Such a King was exhibited in Conal; he was the tyrant of the tragedy; two of his victims were Eregon, and Malvina, the wife of Eregon, for whom be entertains a paflion. The brother of Conal, who is named Everallan, is a prince of moderation and virtue, but is provoked to arms by his brother's oppreffion, and defeats him in battle. Conal being deferted by the remnant of his army, meets with Eregon; they fight, and are both flain. Malvina is a witness of this event, and becomes a fpeechleis mourner for fome time over her husband's body; but at length burfts into a violent grief, and ftabs hertelf. We shall not go minutely into the fable; but of the incidents we muft obferve, that many of them poffefs intereft : of this description are Eregon's first interview with the King; his being fent by royal command, while his character is yet unknown, to Malvina, to relate the account of his own reported death; her reception of him, and Eregon's fituation upon being furprised by the King, who receives Malvina in his arms, under the belief that she is lamenting

her dead husband

The imagery is chiefly from the fchool of Offian, but not given in the exa& idiom;— fuch imagery however being in ftrict accordance with nature and the locality of the fcene, was attended to with pleasure.-The diction was dressed with appofite expreffion, but was not abounding with fublimities, or fancies of extraordinary brightness: at the fame time it must be admitted that it cannot be charged with poverty of ideas.

The tragedy was well dreffed-the habit of Mr. Kemble was according to the stile of the ancient Scots; but as it had no fimilar drefs to keep in countenance, its peculiarity was objectionable.

The tragedy upon being given out for a fecond night was received with difapprobation. The houfe was divided in opinion, but the ayes had it! tho' after the third night the piece was withdrawn.

The following are the Prologue and Epilogue.

PROLOGUE.

By THOMAS VAUGHAN, Efq. The Speaker Mr. BANNISTER, jun. in the Character of a diftreffed and disappointed Poet, peeping in at the door, looks round the house.

ARE you all feated-may I venture in ? [Noise behind.

Hufh-be quiet-ftop your unfriendly din→→→→ Whilft I-with more than common grief opprefs'd,

A tale unfold-just bursting from my breast. [Advancing, points to the Pit doors. But first-are both your pit doors fhut, I pray?

Or noife will drown my strictures on the play.

[Noife from front boxes, opening doors and call

Do you hear-how very hard my cafe is— ing places] Instead of bravo, bravo-places-places— [mimicking.

Your feat, my Lord, is here-your La'ship's

there :

Indeed it quite distracts both hard and play'r. Truce then with your confounded clank of And tell these fair disturbers of our ease, keys, At church, perhaps, 'tis no fuch mighty But bere-quite vulgar to be out of time. crime, Again-why fure the devil's in the clown, [Neife from front boxes repeated Do pray, Sir Harry, knock that fellow down.[printing.

And you, ye Gods-it were a dreadful shock, If thrown from thence--a Critic's head is rockthe pit.

So keep your centres, and my bus'nets know; I am a hard, as thefe my 4ts will flow.

[Pulling out plays from each coat buket. But then the managers-aye! there's the curfe

Which makes us patient bear the fad over

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