ed, if they give not in verdicts contrary Penn. “I can never urge the funda : to their consciences."

mental laws of England, but you cry, Recorder. “My lord, you must take Take him away, take him away! But it is a course with that same fellow,”

now order, since the Spanish Inquisition Lord Mayor. “Stop his mouth. Jai- hath so great a place in the Recorder's lor, bring feuters, and stake him to the heart. God Almighty, who is just, will ground.”

judge you all for thiese things." Penn. “Do your pleasure; I matter So far this curious tract. Aot your fetters !"

Both jury and prisoners were now Recorder. “Till now, I never under forced into the Baile-Dock, for non-paystood the reason of the policy and pru- ment of their fines, whence they were dence of the Spaniards, in suffering the carried to Newgate. These proceedings, Inquisition among them: and certainly it of course, aroused the attention of a nawill never be well with us, till something tion, justly jealous of the government of like unto the Spanish Inquisition be in such a profiigate and arbitrary prince as England."

Charles II. and indignant at the conduct * The jury were once more required of such a judge as Ilowel. Sir Thomas to give another verdict; Mr. Lee, the Sınith, about a century before, had conclerk, was also desired to draw up a spe- sidered the fining, imprisoning, and pu., cial one, which he declined; and the nishing, of juries, to be violent, tyrannical, Recorder threatened to have the jurors and contrary to the custom of the realm of * carted about the city, as in Edward England; while the celebrated Sir Mata III.'s time.” The foreman remonstrated thewllale, who had been chief baron of the in vain, that any other verdict would be a exchequer, and chief justice of the king's force on them to save their lives; and the bench, in this very reigs, observed, in his jury refused to go out of court, until Pleas of the Crown, p. 313, that it would obliged by the sheriff. On this, the court be a most unhappy case for the judge komediately adjourned until next morn- himself, if the prisoner's fate depended ing at seven o'clock, when the prisoners upon his directions, and unhappy also for were, as usual, brought from Newgate, the prisoner; as, if the judge's opinion and, being placed at the bar, the clerk niust rule the verdict, the trial by jury demanded, * Is William Penn guilty, or would be useless." not guilty?" Foreman. " Not guilty !" Edward Bushel, a citizen of London, * Is William Mead guilty, or not guilty?" whose name deserves to be handed down Foreman. “ Not guilty!" The bench be- to posterity with applause, immediately iny still dissatisfied, each of the jury was sued out a writ of Habeas Corpus. required to answer distinctly to his naine, Upon the return, it was stated, that he had wbich being done, and they proving been committed “ for that, contrary to unanimous, the Recorder spoke as fulo law, and against full and clear evidence bows:

openly given in court, and against the “I am sorry, gentlemen, you have folo direction of the court in matter of law, lowed your own judgments and opini- he, as one of a jury, had acquitted Wil. ons rather than the good and wholesome liam Penn and William Mead, to the advice that was given you. God keep my great obstruction of justice." This cause life out of your hands! But for this the was at length heard in the superior court fines you forty marks a-man, and courts; and, after a solemn argument (commands) imprisonment until paid." before the twelve judges, the above was

William Penn. “I demand my libero resolved “ to be an insuflicient cause for ty, being freed by the jury."

fining and committing the jury. They Lord Mayor. “ No, you are in for were accordingly discharged, and they your fines, for contempt of the court." brought actions for damages.

Penn. "I ask if it be according to Eleven years after this, William Penn, the fundamental laws of England, that hept the whole force of his capacious any Englishman should be fined, or mind to a great and noble undertaking. amerced, but by the judgment of his Having, in 1681, obtained froin the peers, or jury? since it expressly contra- crown the grant of a large tract of land dicts the 14th and 29th chapter of the in America, since named Pennsylvania Great Charter of England, which says, after himself, as a compensation for the “No freeman ought to be amerced, but arrears due to him as executor ļo his by the oath of good and lawful mien of father, he took over with bim a colony of the vicinage."

Quakers, and founded Philadelphia, or Recorder. " Take him away, take the City of Brethren, in allusion to their bin away; take him out of court," union and fraternal affection. After thus


establishing the beginnings of a future turned to his native country, and died at empire, and propounding a body of laws, Beaconsfield, in Berkshire, of an apothis truly great man, who reflects so much plesy, in 1718, at the age of seventylustre on the name of Englishman, re- four.



Me too, th' intenseness of the sultry beant Time-MIDSUMMER Noon.

Has sunk in languor, drained my nimbio

spirits, UNFIT for toil, unable to collect

Exhaled the health and marrow of my A fixed attention; pained to grasp the brain; thoughts

A heavier load of atmosphere appears That books present, or close pursue mine To press around me; painful 'iis to breathe, own;

An effort ev'n to lift che listless hand. Weak, weary, wretched, at the sultry hour Yet not alone with herds and flocks I share Of noon, I issue forth with nerves unstrung, Meridian feebleness. Ah! me, 'twere well, Half-lifeless, and unheeding where I stray, If this close air and burning sun sobdned Till, crossed the sun-burnt lawn, I reach at Only, my animal frame: but who can cell length,

The wretchedness, the loathing of my life, * With many a slow sad step, the sloping With its vain toils, vain pleasures, that bank,

attend Where the pale willow droops athwart the This Incubus of Day? who can recount stream;

All the sad thoughts he wakes within my Here, though I taste not gladness, will I breast. stretch

Time was, when, cager in life's joyous My languid frame, beneath the chequered

prime, shade,

This bosom knew no heaviness; gay PleaHaply to find a mitigated pain,

sure And lightened feel this burthen of myself, Danced like a blooming nymph before my Till day's meridian fierceness be o'er-past.

path, Now all is mute, and the right-downward And, pointing to her rose-bowers, beckoned beam,

me That browns the pasturage, and drains each 'To pluck their sweetness; ardent fancy flower

sketched, Of all its freshness, shrivelling up its leaves, With rainbow hues, upon the pendant veil Falls too on herd and cattle; round the That hid futurity, a brilliant scene, deer

Fields ever fair, and skies without a cloud; Lic faint beneath their beech-shades, while Then every nerve was thrilled with hope the flocks

and joy; Stand idly in the shallows of the brook, Or, if a transient sorrow claimed a tear, Fanning off insects with the slow-swung tail. It fell and vanished like an April shower; Where now are all the gambols of their And all again was sunshine, promise, peace : young,

Or, if I upward looked, lo! Glory sate The frisking antics of the morning hour? High on a rock, and cheered me to ascend, When midst the fresh and sparkling dew they To claim a niche within the marble fane leaped,

That crowned the steep; with glowing breast And the cool air breathed gladness! Now Ihcav'd the lark,

From the low vale, and bounded at her call, That with the sun had risen, and upward Like a young roe along the mountain side. sprung

These days no more of them-Oh! gone Joyous to heaven-gate, carolling her lay,

they are, Folds up her russet pinion, and withdraws, For ever gone. Even in the spring of life Languid and silent, to yon inmust grove. The rose-buds died. The curtain is drawn Such o'er all nature is cli' oppressive sway

up, Of noon-tide heat: ah! like the leaden And lo? the scene is sad reality.

mace or Tyranny, that numbs each heaven-born

that numbe each heavensboro And did I fondly weer, Ambition, crowned power,

With glad success, would compensation And levels low all energies of mind;

yield Or the yet heavier rule of dumb Despair,

For Pleasure's lie, for Fancy's vanished bliss That with its weight breaks doyn each in. Ah! envied few, ye comrades of my youth, Ward spring.

With whom I started in life's eager race,


And like whose glorious course mine might Alas! for hiin, who in this woe-fraught hoor, have proved;

Finds nought within to prop his sinking soul, Nor lingering, nor misled, with panting No secret flattery, no consciousness, hearts

That on the walks of life he is revered, You pushed right onward, while the loose. And named with honor by the sage and good Eoned mait

That might be something, echoing their Inhe-ded crossed your path; her syren song

praise, Assailed your soul, but soon, as from a rock, The mind in sweet soliloquy might say, Rolled back a wasted melody; for still “ Be of good cheer, 'ris but a passing cloud, Attention stedfast looked towards the goal, " Anon the sun will pour his radiance While Reason, with his wand, your chosen

bright, guide,

"And all once more will be serene;-the Dispelled Imagination's air-built fanes,

while An promises vi bliss to indolence.

« Endure." But how, if all the moral past Your toil is o'er, and yours is now the palm, Be but a blank, or worse ; if strong desire The shout of thousands, and the laurel To climb to honor have sustained defeat, crown;

If no soft welcome accent have approved Ah! envied When together we set forth, The cherished view that looked to future Yes! I was fresh and vigorous as you,

times, And mighi, like you, have speeded. Now And grasped the laurel of a century's growth; the ruce *

0! who can bear, when such the drear aco, Is run and lost, and I, unpraised, unknown,

count, Fullow inglorious ;--doomed to hide my Reflection's horror:-who, but feels, can tell! shaine

Then all the common places, which the Mics: the low crowds of mediocrity:

world Past is my pride, my honor among men. Pratt'es by rote, and thinks not from the In those ilu ive hours, when Cheerfulness

heart, Conducts Reflection, and bears up the heart; That life is brief, and full of cares; delight Placio, self satisfied, the mund will turn

A passing flower, that withers as it blows; Joward its contemplative eye, and smile; That wealth is worthless, since it cannot buy Then all looks glad and joyous, as creation, Tranquillity; that friendship is niose false, When fresh and fragrant from che summer And Wisdom's self most vain ; ---Vain every shower

wish It glitters in the sun: 0! then, the soul And each research of man, who toiling long,

Panting with ardor, big with confidence, Is baffled in pursuit, or may succeed • Deems it has giant powers, and wili achieve And grasp a shadow:-these and many more, Things yet untried by man: th' enthusiaso. The saws of Pedantry with frozen lips, glow

That lectures woe, are realized and felt, Burns in each vein, fire Aashes from the Felt with a pain acute it never knew,

What then remains, since all is worthless, The frame's incumbent weight seems light

vain, ened, raised,

Beneath a wise man's aim, a good man's hope, Expanded by an energy divine!

But to escape from this polluted scene, Yet soon, too soon, the paroxysm subsides

To burst ibe toil, and Aed, Rash mind! In sad despondence: now the powers collapse

forbear, And sink in lassitude, while all around

Think of the mandate, “ Tarry till I call;" The scene is darkened, and the languid eye

Endure unto che end; wait, wait th' appointed Perceives no beauty in the earth or heavens,

time, Nor aught to be desired-ielights 110 more

Nor rush unlicenced to the judgment-throne, Or man or woman: scicace, pleasure, For can'st thou tell what lies across tbe.

wealth, All the pursuits, the uses of this world, .


And were it worse than all thy sufferings here, Seem weary, Aat, unprofitable, stale:

Say, can'st thou flee from that? Ah! now, no more complacent musings

Back to thy sheath, detested poniard! No, spring From self-inspection ; discontent, despair, discontent, desvair.

. Though all this world be weariness, though Jis sole results; while imperfection stains,

hope Or seems to stain, all objects and all toils, Of gladness be from me for ever fled, But most of all, in the sad sufferer's mind,

My sole sad prospect but to to:ter on Whate'er had sprung from his inventive

Some joyless years, and sink into the grave; brain,

Yet will I bend me to th' awards of heaven, And once seemed fair and faultless. With a Nor wrest its high prerogative, to say, blush,

When I have borne enough: dark are God's Viewing his own creation, in disgust.. .

ways, He blots the canvas, or destroys the page.

Yet not less wise, because unscarchable.





In each affliction he decrecs, design

SONG. There is, and doubtless that design is good :

Tune "Humours of Gler." In this depression even I now sustain,

How fresh is the rose in the gay dewy This weariness of life, this hate of self,

morning, May mercy be at work. And be it so! That peeps with a smile o'er yon eastern hill. Look, look, my soul, on thy polluted self, How fair is the lily, our gardens adorning, Nor think thou gazest with a jaundiced eye, And fresh is the daisy that blooms by the rill : What now thou loath'st is thou, is very But Mary, the rarest, the fairest, sweet thou!

Aower, Self-fattery glossed thee in thy brighter That ever adorned the green banks of the hours,

MAIN,* Now first thou kat'st, now first thòu know'st, Compar'd with this beanty, the eglantine thyself.

bower, Know and amend, that when the hour shall The rose, and the lily, how trifling and vain !

come, That brings thy lawful summons to be gone,

How lovely her bosom, where friendship and Thou may'st de part with dignity and hope.

feeling Lo! the wide field of Piety extends,

Still heave for misfortune the dear tender The field of Virtue, fair beneath thy feet: .

sigh; Act well thy part, and smooth thy wrinkled

How sweet are her looks, ev'ry beauty rebrow,

vealing ;

And kiss the rod, and do the will of Heaven;

And mild is the lustre that beams in her eye.

"; The blush of her cheek still out-rivals AuSoon will a few short years of sorrow pass, And bliss, long siglied-for, will at length be

When beauty and music awake the young

i thine, Far richer bliss than this low world could

And sweeter her smile than the smile of

and yield, Than wish could seek, than fancy could con- ,

sweet Flora,

When cowslips and daisies bedeck the gay ceive


And, 0, lovely maid! may thy beauties still ON THE RETURN OF SPRING.


Unnipp'd by the blast of Misfortune's rough CAN I lovely nature sce, ♡ In all her pristine gaiety,


May Virtue attend thee, thy goodness te And ev'ry hill and dale between,

nourish, Cloth'd again in cheerful green?

And no rullian hand the sweet blossom assail ! Can I view the shady bow'rs,

May Fortune's best smiles, lovely maid, Deck'd again with varied flow'rs ?

never leave thee, Flow'rs enamelling the glade,

Through life's fleeting scenes as thou joar. That bud to die, and bloom to fade?

ney'st along, Can the rose its pride resume,

And curst be the villain would seek to deAnd breathe around its sweet perfume?

ceive thee, Extend its beauteous leaf anew,

Or offer thy virtue and innocence wrong! With velvet touch, and crimson hue?

Let lordlings exult in their titles and treasure, Can the airy zephyrs bring

Where courts and where grandeur extend New graces to the youthful spring,

their proud blaze, Without recalling to my mind,

And proud city-beauties may listen with A maid as fair, but far less kind?

pleasure, A maid as fair, for nature's charms

While poets as venal re-echo their praise ; Are centred in her circling arms;

No man shall now boast of the city or palace, Her cheeks the rose's hue eclipse,

Bedecked with their beauties, a gay gilded And all its perfume 's in her lips.


For now there's a fairer adorns qur green val. But far less kind; for mark how frec

leys The spring extends her charity; L'ispensing sweetness o'er the ball,

'Tis Mary, sweet Mary, the flow'r of the

Bestows a smile alike on all.
Why then should'st chou refuse to bless,

Ballytrisna, Co. Antrim. John G&Tiy. Since thou can'st please with so much less ?

* The principal river in county Antrim, I ask not half so much of thee;

is called the Main. It rises in the northern Bestow a smile alone on me,

part of the county, and falls into Lough D. .



MR. THOMAS MEAD's, (SCOTT-STREET, are told; when the engine is to be put

YORKSHIRE,) for Methods of Muking together, the arms should be taken frors Circular or Rotative Steam Engines, the spindles, and the solid one fixed into upon an entire new Principle.

that which is hollow, which, with their IUE principle of this invention is not respective pistons, and small circular

1 confined io engines of any particular plaies, are to be placed in one of the shells. form, but it consists in making use of and the other placed over them: the two inoveable pistons in such a manner sheils are then to be fastened together, what they alternately revolve, or move with screws or otherwise, so as just to ad. round their axes or centres, as we shall mit the pistons with their respective endeavour to explain, as well as we are plates and spindles to turn round in their able, withɔat the help of figures. There respective chambers nearly steam-tigbe; are iwo circular plates or shells of metal, the arins may then be made fast on the similar in their construction, having their spindles, and the engine erected. Die insides made very correct. Each of these rections are now given for fixing the macircular plates or shells, has a fanch chine, which being done, and ready to and semicircular cavity formed for the be set to work, the steam is permitted to reception of the pistons, which are af- enter by one of the pipes into the steam. terwards described, and a recess or hol chamber, where, by its elasticity, it will low part formed round its centre, for a press or act upon both pistons nearly sinall circular plate to turn in. Near alike ; and, as one of the pistons is stopa the edge of each recess is a small groove ped or held fast, the steam cannot pass running quite round; in the bottoin of into the other pipe that way, but will each groove is placed a metallic ring, and force the other piston round with its small the reinaining part of the groove is fitted circular plate, spindle, arm, and friction. up with packing or wadding, which ring wheel, and put the fly in motion, and and wadding may be moved with screws continue it. A similar effect may be going through each shell, and may be produced with a concave globe, or sphere, turned on the outside of the engine after having within it two moveable semicira it is put together at any time, to make the cular leaves, as substitutes for the pissmall circular plates work steam-tight. tons, with packings at their edges, and On the outside of each shell, at its cen- united in the centre or axis of the globe tre, is a hollow pipe for the reception of with hinges, and having each of them spindles. One of the circular plates has an axis passing through the globe to two holes, to which pipes are fitted, one receive the arms and friction-wheels, to convey steam into the shells, the other and with holes, pipes, &c. for the admisto conduct it from them into a condenser sion of steam. Engines on this principle wherever it may be required. The figures may be made of every size, and may be attached to this specification exhibit the put in motion by air or water as well as parts already described, and also two steam. The invention may be applied pistons with grooves round them, to ad. to engines for extinguishing fire, or for mit of a wadding and two small circular raising or forcing water to any height, plates, to which the pistons are con- and for other purposes of practical uti. nected, or made fast. One of the spindles lity, referred to is made hollow, to receive the other, which is solid, and passes through MR. EDWARD SHORTER's, (WAPPING,) it. Two arms are fastened to the spina for an Apparatus for Working Pumps. dles, and each arm near its extremity M r. Shorter, in describing his invene carries a wheel, called a friction-wheel; tion, says, he fixes at the stern or aftera fly or regulating wheel, fixed to one end part of a vessel, an axis nearly parallel of a moveable axis, having in its front, to the horizon, and in a fore and aft dia opposite to its axis, a groove running rection, so that one of its extremities across its diameter, for the reception of inay be within board, and the other, vize the friction-wheels, which wheels, when the aftermost extreinity, shall either be the pistong are put in motion, work in it, without board, or so placed as to admit of and give motion to the fly-wheel, and the fixing of an external apparatus on it, other machinery which may be con- intended to produce a rotatory motion in nected with it. All the parts being de. the said axis, by means of which the scribed and shewn in the drawings, we pump or pumps of any description may

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