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of stupefaction, sensuality, and effemivacy, which are its worst and most fatal disease: they dispel apathy, foster a generous and energetic spirit, accustom the body to wholesome exercise and toil, and nerve the mind against the hour of adversity and privation.

It is well remembered that, when, at the close of the late reign, the celebrated Dr. Brown, in his “Estimate," represented this nation, as sunk into the lowest state of femine debility, the energy of Lord Chatham's administration, and the vigorous war which he carried on, electrified the kingdom, and raised it in a short period to a point of unexampled glory and renown, both for its wisdom and its heroism. Have we not seen similar effects from the late war? Compare the energy of the present race of males in all ranks of society, with the habits of those who predominated in society, during the peace, which followed the American contest! There is a vigour and hardihood in the rising generation, worthy of less luxurious times !

But how long we shall keep off the baneful effects, which commerce never fails at last to produce, I dare not inquire ! My imagination at least will never fail to be best pleased with the manners of ages approaching nearer to those of chivalry! For this reason I shall here venture to insert a poem, congenial to these sentiments, which has hitherto lain unnoticed among my papers.

Lines on the figure of a Warrior, dressed in Feudal

Armour, his shield adorned with an ancient heraldric coat; a Baronial castle in the lack ground, on the highest tower of which is displayed a banner, bearing the same insignia; drawn and presented to the author by the Rev. C. W.*

“ So shone th' heroic chief in days of old;
Fierce was his mien; his limbs of giant mould;
Beneath the load of cuinbrous armour light,
Active he bounded to th' infuriate fight;
Broad was his shield, with bold device imprest,
And on his helmet frown'd the grimly crest:
Yon moated castle's massy walls uprose
To frown defiance on his vassals' foes;
And o'er that shadowy forest's wide domains,
O'er these blue hills, and those extended plains, 10
O'er many a scatter'd vill, and many a town,
He ruld by right, by favour, or renown.

Ferocious days, and days of wild alarm,
Yet cheard by many a joy, and many a charm,
Which these degenerate times have lost.-For Power
Dwelt with the chief, who own'd the Feudal Tower!
Lord of the generous arts, that win command,
By noble counsel, or by valorous hand,
He knew no rivals in the dastard knaves,
Who spring to wealth from Lucre's base-born slaves; 20

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* One, who after one and thirty years of uninterrupted friendship, and after having buffeted with the rage of the yellow fever in the Atlantic, and having afterwards visited all the shores of the Mediterranean, and wit. nessed the horrors and the glories of the tremendous night, which was illuminated by the battle of the Nile, is returned safe to form one of the few props and comforts of the author's life.

Who

VOL. III.

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Who gain rich lands, and feed luxurious boards,
By the vile modes, which groveling Trade affords!
Perchance some Knight of more advontrous name
His spirit's generous envy might enflame,
One, on whose breast with more resplendent fire
Bcam'd the red cross, or growi'd the lion's ire;
Who rode with statelier grace the prancing horse,
Or couch'd his quivering lance with mightier force !
E'en tho' his heaving bosom swell'd with pain,
Aspiring wreaths of equal worth to gain,

30
Still in the grateful strife was glory mix'd,
And Virtue's wishes in his heart were fix'd:
No wealthy son of Commerce bade him bide
Beforé superior pomp his lessen'd pride,
Nor call'd him with insulting sneers to vie
In the mean race of arts he scorn'd to try :
Honour and rank and wealth he saw await
Toils of the wise, and actions of the great;
Nor mark'd, where'er before his aching eyes
Halls, mansions, castles, palaces, arise,
Wretches usurp them, who in darksome cells
Won their base spoils by Traffic's hated spells !

Rude was the pile, that from th' impendingbrow Of some steep rock upon the wave below Oft look'd with fearful grandeur; loud the blast Rav'd on its walls, and thro' its turrets past; Chill were its sunless rooms, and drear the aisles Along whose length the night breeze told her tales; Massive the walls, thro' which the genial day Strove with warm breath in vain to win its way: 50 But jocund was its hall; and gay the feast That spoke the genuine gladness of the breast, When rang'd its hospitable boards, along The warlike bands renew'd th' heroic song;

Or

Or told wild tales, or drank with greedy ear
Romantic ditties wbich the Minstrel-Seer
Tund to his harp, while, as with bolder fire
He threw his raptur'd hand across the wire,
With visions of new glory beam'd each eye,
And loud the gathering chorus rose on high; 60
Till shook the rafter'd roof, and every bound
Of the wide castle trembled with the sound.

Rough were the scenes, as was the master's mind,
Which Nature, bordering on th' abode, desigo'd;
Forests of age untold, whose unpierc'd wood
Ne'er to the labourer's echoing axe bad bow'd;
Soft lawns, which mid surrounding coverts spread,
By the wild tenants of the scene were fed ;
Deep dells, with fern and brake, and twisted thorn
Thick-matted, whence the hunter's shrill-ton'd born 20
Started thi elastic deer, which, stung with fright,
Swift as the viewless winds, pursued their flight;
Loud torrents, rumbling as they win their course
Thro' fretted rocks and winding banks by force;
Or rills, that murmurid music, as their race,
Thro' flowery vales, they ran with even pace.

When War's alarms no more around him rag'd, In sports amid these scenes the Chief engag'd; Sports, that became his hardy form When Light First 'gan to streak the flying mists of Night, 80 From bis rough couch he sprung; his bugle blew, And round him each impatient hunter drew; Then forth the steed of wondrous swiftness came, And thro' the woods he sought th' affrighted game; From morn to eve, woods, plains, and vales and hills With the loud echo of his voice he fills; No toil fatigues him, and no danger stays; Perils the zest of his amusement raise; 12

Then

Then home to gorgeous balls and blazing fires,
Weary, yet pleas'd with exercise, retires;

go
The feast is spread ; the war-clad walls along
Rings the glad converse, and rebounding song;
And when again the sable-mantled Night
Far o'er the sky has urg'd her heavy flight,
On the hard bed his giant limbs he throws,
And sinks serenely into deep repose !

O age of luxury! O days of ease! The restless, vigorous, soul ye ne'er can please! Within your stagnant lakes Corruption breeds, And on your flowers vile sensual Meanness feeds! 100 As when foul pests have gather'd in the sky And o'er the globe the death-charg'd vapours fly, Soon as the mighty Tempest drives his blasts, And thro' the lurid gloom his lightuing casts, Vanish the congregated brood of ills, And heath and sunshine all the landscape fills; So, when wan Indolence and timid Joy, The native spirit of the mind destroy, And fiends of Hell, and sprites of loathsome Pain, Self-love, Lust, Gluttony, and Hate, enchain; 110 The toils of war, the battle's thundering storm The sleepy current of the soul reform; The loaded bosom purge, and bid it flame With the pure throbbings of a generous fame, And light with hope, and airy with the fire Of blest Ambition, up to Heaven aspire!"*

* I had just finished this Essay, when I received the two following from a most valuable and respected Correspondent.

NO.

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