unceasinglie for his Holie Spiritt to keepe themm fromm backslydinge.. Secondlie. The perill of those who have bene convertedd, after haveing for som time livedd inn openn sinn and rebellione-brandes plucked fromm the everlastinge burninge; and forr these he has speciall snares. He is perpetuallie forceinge upon there mindes the sinns off theire youthe, nott thatt they maie repente, butt thatt they maie doubt the powere and willingnesse of Christe to save them. Hee temptes them withe dreadfullie wickedd thoughtes; and this hee cann doe moore redilie and effectuallie with themm, fromm the powerr off theire former evill associations. Hee seduces them by the influence of theire olde companiones; by theire gibes and sneeres; by the ungodlie bookes they keepe throwinge inn theire way; and, above alle, by the force off theire former evill habitts, which, like a republicke of tyrantes, are ever tormentinge and oppressinge them. Yet, after alle, I conceive they are lesse inn dangerr thann the former, because they are more aware off the evil off their owne heartes, and crie more heartilie to God for helpe. Thirdlie. I shall trie to pointe out som off the hazardes off Christianes inn generall, whenne theye are growne up and come to mixe withe the worlde. Manie of these are manifeste. The hete of youthe has gone bye, and theye are becomme obliged to thinke muche off worldlie gaine, and strive to succede there business inn the worlde. And here Satann has themm att greate advantage; forr if conscience saies, "Love nott the worlde," Satann replyes," He thatt provideth nott forr his owne hath denyed the faithe, and is worse then an infidell;" and soe hee deceeves themm intoe the love off a worldlie monie-getting spirit. Hee telles themm too be wise as serpentes, and never to minde overreachinge and cheatinge theire neighboure, iff they cann doe itt without disgrace, forr there neighboure will cheate themm iff he cann; and soe he woulde faine persuade themm, they maye doe these things and yett be harmless ass doves. Hee calls covetousnesse, carefullnesse; selfishnesse, prudence; liberalitie, wastefullnesse; and soe hee lies, as hee ever did fromm the beginninge. Iff theye are inn the holie estate of matrimonie, and have the cares off a familie, hee thenn ledes themm too beleeve thatt these cares wille bee sufficient excuse forr neglectinge private self-examination and meditationne,and for muche abridginge secrette prayere. They alwaies have prayers inn theire families, for inn these matters the worlde cann see and take notice of them; soe if idleness keepes you inn bedd inn a morninge, orr fatigues wearie themm inn ann evening, they readilie make excuse forr omittinge or shorteninge secrette prayere, and thuss Satann againe triumphes over them. Whenne hee has gott themm thuss farr, hee soone makes them colde and listlesse, and theye become lukewarme. Fourthlie. I shalle attempte to shewe thatt even the aged Christiane is nott exempte fromm thiss greate dangerr of goeing backe; for tho' hee maie be less perilled bye the temptationes I have mentioned, stille hee has hiss share too fighte withe. Hee cannott engage his thoughtes onn Christe as he was wonte. Hee is soe distractede with doubts and fearfulnesse, hiss temper iss inn dangerr off becominge irritable and hotte. He is obstinate inn his prejudices, and the ennemie tryes to stele inn and lede him onwarde too self-conceite; and, then, increasinge: the chillnesse accompanyinge hiss yeares, he would persuade himm to love his bills and bondes better then Christe, and to followe all books within the narrow circuit of selfishnesse with greedinesse, and soe he would have him make shipwrecke off his faithe juste when he shoulde be sailinge intoo porte. I have now brieflie endeaendeavourede too shewe how alle Christians are inn dangere off fallingeawai, and bringinge shame onn the Gospell theye professe, ass introductorie too a more lengthened statemente off my thoughtes on thiss subjecte, inn whiche, with oute assuminge priestlie authoritie, I shalle contente myselfe withe pointinge out more particularlie the various perills the true followers of Christe are subjecte too, and shewinge how nothinge but the blessedde influences of the Holie Spiritt, soughte by constante and perseveringe prayere, cann preserve themm unblameable untill Christ his appearinge. Januarie 5th, 1652-1653. The author, a layman, never completed the treatise he appears to have projected; in consequence of which this, with other similar papers, was laid aside and never published. A. REMARKS ON SOME PASSAGES IN (To the Editors.) a London gentleman's acquaint- time I shall then enjoy an immunity from detection. And here, Gentlemen, let me beg of you not to endeavour again to rival the Magazine, in caricaturing the faces of your friends: let that ambition remain singular. The attempt in you is like purloining a copy-right. But to the pointthat I am little is true: the Hornbooks, from time immemorial, have been of small dimensions. I have not degenerated. My adversary's design to expel me from the republic of letters will, I presume, receive no sanction from the accusation that I am 66 a dirty grub of a book-worm." Was extreme neatness ever considered the characteristic of literary talent? Did not Franklin say that authors were called literary men because they always made a litter? Few London dandies have ever been admitted to the freedom of Parnassus. Is there not a street in the metropolis, originally honoured by being the residence of many of the fraternity, which still bears the name of "Grub Street?" In short, an expulsion from the republic of letters, on any or all these accounts, would absolutely depopulate the state. The qualifications for admission into this once respectable fraternity are certainly not so strict as to preclude those who labour under bodily infirmities; it is evident that even the grossest defects of the mind are no bar to the enjoyment of its privileges. The famed republic is now degenerated into a hospital for the reception of those infected with the cacoethes scribendi. Immured within its walls, they may, like other incurables, carry on their harmless amusements, (I use the word in Mr. Coleridge's sense,) without any danger of infect ing the public, except with a smile at their uncouth vagaries. But canamus majora: I am now engaged on such important topics as to be prevented On from taking any farther notice of the London gentleman's charges.. I have serious thoughts of publishing an entirely new system of metaphysics. For this reason, I have entered very deeply into the studies of those interminable mysteries. I have not yet quite determined what opinions I shall embrace. Betwixt Berkley's hypothesis that there is no such a thing as matter, and Spinoza's scheme that every thing is matter, I am inclined to believe that it is no matter which side I take. one point I am fully determined: that whatsoever my system may ultimately be, my opinions shall be delivered, agreeably to the modern plan, in a style which will defy all criticism, and be utterly unanswerable, by being utterly unintelligible. Metaphysics being, according to the etymology of the word, things above nature, should, like other airy beings, be.invested with clouds, and I intend to inrobe mine in clouds so thick, as 'to' baffle all attempt at discovery. In this point, as in many others, I shall stand in direct opposition to Locke, and the writers of the old times, who have taken away all the interest of this science by revealing its mysteries in plain language, and adapting them to the capacities of beardless boys, and spinsters of fifteen. Many things, you know, Gentlemen, owe all their importance to their indistinctness: the instant they condescend to vulgar understandings, they lose their dignity. I hope to be able to render my volumes almost as obscure as those of the Caledonian orator, which, if I can effect, there will be no doubt of my popularity. I am a great admirer of Mr. Hamilton's new system of education, which, I have no doubt, is a relic of the ante-diluvian schools, and in use before the cumbrous appendage of grammar was ever heard of. I think, however, it is sus ceptible of many improvements. I cannot see a sufficient reason why, instead of drilling our scholars through the Greek language for the protracted space of a whole month, we do not endeavour the mastery of all the dialects of the world in the same space. I am convinced the same measure of success would attend both attempts. To make this practicable, Dr. Murray's late book on the "Oriental Languages" will be of incalculable service. His admirable reduction of all words to a few simple sounds is indeed the royal road of languages. On this road, new-modelled under the superintendence of our grammatical Macadams, and with the assistance of the steam-coaches which are to be invented, I expect we shall soon be whirled through the several parts of speech of the dialects of the universe, with as much rapidity as we are now conveyed through its geographical limits, and with as little remembrance of their precise situations. The poor flying words will be quite distanced, and remain at a respectful and admiring remoteness. My principal speculation yet remains to be told. It is the erec tion of a steam-engine for the manufactory of thought. I intend to establish it in London, as in that metropolis the scarcity of the material is felt more acutely than in other places. It is presumed that an article, quite good enough for the demand of the market, may be procured in this manner. Its want of clearness will be no objection. Authors may be supplied from this reservoir, more expeditiously than in the present manner; and, in particular, the monthly miscellanies may be sure never to be dried up, a misfortune to which they are miserably liable at present. Much needless expense in paste and scissars will thus be avoided, and the usual quantum of letter-press easily procured, without the aid of paragraphs from antiquated newspapers, containing anecdotes without interest, and reflections without point. I might enlarge on the advantages of this speculation, but I study brevity, which I sincerely wish were the case with many contributors to periodicals, as the only study of theirs likely to benefit their readers. SIMON HORNBOOKIUS. POETRY. ON SEEING MY INFANT DAUGH- My gentle lady, fear not here The golden locks that shade thy brow, Undreaded then the angry bow, That made me what ye see me now, But for thee the hour that's fled, 2 R B. THE DREAD OF HELL.* They said they saw it passing by, Which there is wont to be. They marked, they said, its sullen flight, They gazed in horror at the scene- It passed that messenger of woe- It made no pause, it made no stay, No more the gloomy spectre past-- But if thus potent fancy be, There is a dark abyss, more drear Than Etna's gulph of flame; Yet, strange to say! few think with fear Though thousands of their race must be And, yet still deeper shame! The worm--the worm that dieth not- Those prison-vaults beneath; O man! e'er thou art banish'd there, Think o'er those scenes of black despair! The former part of this poem is allu. sive to a strange tale of a party of Englishmen having seen the sight in question, when lying off the coast of Sicily. It is at tended with such remarkable circumstances, that, for our own part, we can scarcely tell whether a man would be more chargeable with credulity for believing it, or incredulity for rejecting it. WHY IS SPRING DELIGHTFUL? O! WHY is Spring so dear to me, Dizen'd in all her gayest flowers? Why love I nature's revelry, Flaunting amid her fairy bowers? Why doats my spirit on the scene, The freshness of the meads, the trees? Why love I thus the pearl-sown green? Why drink in gladness with the breeze? Is it because my life, like this, Has been bestrew'd with joy-bright And ev'ry varying scene of bliss Spite of the clouds of woe that rise, Like yonder sun 'mid Summer skies? That Sol's bright radiance pleases most. The eagle may defy the storm, And place her firm-built nest on high; The swallow, with her fragile form, Takes refuge in a milder sky. "Tis thus I seek the vernal ray : Its genial influence can warm Oft sinking 'neath the wintry storm. new, And I was gay as Summer flowers That glisten in the morning dew. And, ah! it tells of that blest clime, Where fairer, purer beauties glow, Where flow'rets bloom, unhurt by time, Unchang'd by all the ills below. There everlasting freshness reigns, And richest odours breathe around; Sweet peace broods o'er the happy plains, And love, and joy, and rest are found. With thoughts like these my bosom thrills- I see a God of sov'reign love, A. G. L. THE FRAILTY OF YOUTH. 1 press'd the flower at morn--alas! Ah! dreadful thought that youth must fade, In fullest, freshest bloom, |