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Mr. Honey born thought the mill would answer his purpose, in polishing brass nails; and, after much pro and con, I consented to sell it for eighty guineas, and take his bond bearing interest.

Upon examining my accounts, for the were very minute, I found I had lost in cash, two hundred and twenty-nine pounds! Add to this the loss of three years of the prime part of my life, when trade was prosperous, and at a time when I had no opponeut, I considered myself a sufferer of, at least, £1000.

I had drained the trade so much, to feed the mill, that I had but few goods to sell; the consequence was, I lost the customers.

This is speculation: it is, on a smaller scale, what befalls thousands; as the City of London can testify yearly. There is scarcely any thing so fatal to hopeful young tradesmen, as the desire of being rich too soon.

To engage in additional adventures, when a steady business demands caution, care, and capitul, is not the way to wealth. It is a lure held out, not by Fortune, but, by misfortune. It by no means follows that because one occupation prospers, a second must render the occupant doubly prosperous. Mr. Hutton as a seller of paper, was becoming rich; ⚫ he must needs become a maker of paper; he drained his pockets and his business, to-the very contrary of increasing riches. This is a usual occasion of failure; and could the history of the many "Whereas's" in the Gazette, be impartially written, the greater part would be found imputable to the enlarged desire of wealth. By these remarks we do not intend to repel industry, ingenuity, or a proper briskness and spirit in business: without those laudable qualities, Mr. Hutton must have continued a poor man, but he would have had more wealth, had he never coveted a paper mill.

Many men have made their fortunes by industry; and some have published their lives, ostentatiously for themselves, but unprofitably for the public. The garrulous old man before us, endeavours to instruct as well as to amuse; and those who have no objection to meet with some information among much gossip, may find in this volume a work to their minds. The History of the Birmingham Riots, is a melancholy instance of popular phrenzy let loose; the

mansion of Mr. Russell, unbuilt to this day, perpetuates the disgrace; but we have heard it said, that, the damage to the town of Birmingham by those riots never has been, or will be, compensated.

We have formerly acknowledged our satisfaction in perusing Mr. Hutton's accounts of his enviable Antiquarian Rambles : his perambulation of the Roman Wall; his inspection and reinspection of Bosworth Field, &c. Few men, at his years, could have executed these pedestrian undertakings, and fewer still conld have recorded them so well. His daughter's account of his latter days, shews that he retained this disposition for walking till his powers were reduced to complete inability. He died Sept. 20, 1815. Aged 91.

The following is a fair picture of the writer:

1778.

The man who possesses any branch of useful knowledge, may have customers enough to partake of that knowledge, provided he distributes it gratis. A mercer in Birmingham, who had purchased the stock of a shopkeeper in Dudley, and had followhaberdasher, and hosier, requested me to ed the various trades of bookseller, draper,

go over and value the stock. I cousented, but did not receive even thanks.

One of my services met with a better return. A decent country woman came one market day, and begged to speak with me. She told me, with an air of secresy, that her husband behaved unkindly to her, and sought the company of other women; and that knowing me to be a wise man, I could tell what would cure him.

"

The case was so common, I thought I might prescribe for it without losing my reputation as a conjurer. "The remedy is simple," said I. Always treat your hus band with a smile." The woman thanked me, dropped a curtesy, and went away. A few months after, she came again, bringing a couple of fine fowls. She told me, with great satisfaction, that I had cured her of the fowls in return. I was pleased with husband; and she begged my acceptance the success of my prescription, but refused the fee.

Those are Quacks who write up "no cure, no pay;" but, after having effected a cure, we doubt the propriety of the Physician's declining a fee.

We, however, offer the prescription, gratis, to whosoever can take the hint,

and make up the prescription properly.
Alas! for poor humanity! though the Doc-
for could cure a patient of one disease,
he could not cure himself of another.
Approaching extreme old age, he writes
There is an inconsistency in the character
of man. In youth he sets but a small
value upon his property, and is much in-
elined to spend it, while, having life be-
fore him, there is the utmost reasou to
save it for future use; but in old age, when
he cannot from the shortness of his day use
it, he is anxious to accumulate and keep it
I am strongly tinctured with this unphilo.
sophical bias; for though in early life I did |
not spend money because I had none, yet
I am now as willing to acquire as if my
date was that of Methusalem.

From early infancy land was my favour. ite object, and though a thousand pounds in the stocks may be as productive as a thousand in laud, yet I should despise the one, and grasp at the other. My desire, like a bottomless pit, cannot be filed. This year closed with purchasing the manor of Woonton, joining my own in Hereford

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There labell'd draw'rs display their spicy row
Clove, mace, and nutmeg; from the ceiling low
Dangle long twelves and eights, and slender

rush,

Mix'd with the varied forms of genus brush ;
| Cask, firkin, hag, aud barrel, crowd the floor,
And piles of country cheeses guard the door.
The frugal dames came in from far and near,
To buy their ounces and their quarterns here.
Hard was the toil, the profits slow to count,
And yet the mole-hill was at last a mount;
Those petty gains were hoarded day by day,
W th little cost, (nor chick nor child had they);
Till, long proceeding on the saving plan,
He found himself a warm, fəre-handed man;
And being now arriv'd at life's decline,
Both he and she, they form'd the bold design,
(Although it touch'd their prudence to the
quick),

To turn their savings into stone and brick.
How many a cup of tea and pinch of snuff,
There must have been consumed to make
enough!

At length, with paint and paper, bright and
gay,

The box was finish'd and they went away.
But when their faces were no longer seen
Amongst the canisters of black and green,
-Those well known faces, all the country
round-

'Twas said that had they levell'd to the ground
The two old walnut trees before the door,
The customers would not have missed them

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The few ideas that travel, slow and dull,
Across the sandy-desert of her skull,
Still the same course must follow, to and fro,
As first they travers'd three-score years ago;
From whence, not all the world could turn

them back,

Or lead them out upon another track.
What once was right or wrong, or high or low,
In her opinion, always must be so;-
You might, perhaps, with reasons new and pat
Have made Columbus think the world was flat,
Or, when of thought and controversy weary,
Have got Sir Isaac to deny his theory;
But not the powers of arguments combin'd,

antiently, a sprightly wit, of the pre-
sent day, in its intercourse with human
nature, will find much to supply matter
for Essays on morals and manners, whe-
ther in Rhyme, or Prose. Perhaps,
they may be thought most pointed in
Rhyme; perhaps they may be the longer
nevertheless, openings
remembered;
should always be left for repentance,
for the change which usually accompanies
a few additional years of life. We
would not recommend inflexible severity
in punishing the flippancies, or the in-
advertencies, or the false estimates of

Could make this dear good woman change her things, which time will be not only

mind,

Or give her intellect the slighest clue,
To that vast world of things she never knew.
Were but her brain dissected, it would show
Her stiff opinions fastened in a row ;
Rang'd duly, side by side, without a gap,
Much like the plaiting on her Sunday cap.
In these verses the reader will readily
discover the speaking pencil of an ar-
tist, directed by the keen eye of obser-
vation. Whoever has once entered the
much containing premises of a country
shopkeeper, finds all his ideas renewed,
and may easily fancy that he knows the
place, of which this picture is the por-
trait.

best qualified to cure, but will also be most effectual in curing.

Miss T. traces Prejudice into a variety of forms; it adheres to the young, to the old, to the infidel, to the devout, to the indifferent, and to the benevolent. After Prejudice she places Experience; and the experience of life, she illustrates by the following simile:

A tatter'd cottage, to the view of taste,
In beauty glows, at needful distance plae'd ;
Its broken panes, its richly ruin'd thatch,
Its gable grac'd with many a mossy patch,
The sunset lightning up its varied dyes,
Form quite a picture to poetic eyes ;
Aud yield delight that modern brick and board,

afford.

Nor is it difficult to find the counter-Square, sound, and well arrang'd would not parts of his worship the Mayor, and Mistress Mayoress: we have them now, "in our mind's eye," and the reader recollects them among his old acquaint

ances.

But cross the mead to take a nearer ken,-
Where all the magic of the vision, then?
The picturesque is vanish'd, and the cye
Averted, turns from loathsome poverty;
And while it linger's e'en the sun's pure ray
Seems almost sullied by its transient stay.
The broken walls with slight repairs emboss'd,
Are but cold comforts in a winter's frost ;
No smiling, peaceful peasant, half refin’d,
There tunes his reed on rustic seat reclin'd;
But there, the bending form and haggard face,
Worn with the lines that vice and misery

This kind of picturesque description
is this lady's forte. She reasons well,
in rhyme; but she describes, better.
She moralizes in the shape of argument;
but her morals drawn from character
are more forcible, and less exposed to
retort, or contradiction.
She intro-
duces also religious sentiments, correct,
indeed, but deriving little advantage
from the tags of rhyme; of which the
continuation of this very Essay on Pre-
judice may be quoted, in proof: though
managed with spirit and address, min-To fairy visions and elysian meads,
Thus vulgar, cold reality succeeds.
gled with well directed casuistry.

The follies and the vices of mankind, furnish inexhaustible themes for the Satirist; with little, or no knowledge of those exposed by Horace and Juvenal,

trace.

Thus fades the charm by vernal hope supplied
To every object it has never tried;

There are some exquisite touches of Who cannot renature in this poem. collect a something analagous to these pathetic lines?

-My dear indulgent father, how he strove
To train and win me by his patient love;
Endur'd my froward temper, and display'd
A kiud forbearance that was ill repaid!
To thwart my little pleasures ever loth,
They yielded much, he and my mother both :
I was a sickly one, and all her skill,

And all her pity came when I was ill;

I can remember how she was distrest,

Oh, he would give the gaudy trappings all,
For a brown wainscot or a whited wall!

Felix, at length, while groaning with ennui, All in a breath, bethought him of the sea, -Ah! that was it !-chok'd up with hills and trees,

Who could exist! he panted for a breeze.
So, off he sped forthwith, and travelling post,
Like a king's messenger, he seeks the coast.

And took more thought for me than all the From yon steep hill, descries with ardent glee,

.rest ;

And what a sweet relief it seem'd to be

To lay my aching head upon her knee : Then she would moan, and stroke my sickly cheek,

And I was better while I heard her speak.

This, again, is picture: it calls up the delusions of the eye, by its influence on the mind. Little different is the following; a character but too frequently found among our young men of family and fortune.

How happy they, whom poverty denies
To execute the projects they devise!
But Felix, well supplied with evil's root,
Endur'd the penance while he pluck'd the
fruit.

-He sold his house, relenting all the while;
And built his cottage, quite in cottage style.
Each rural ornament was quick bespoke;
And down they came, all fresh from London

smoke.

The tasty trellis o'er the front is seen,
With rose and woodbine woven in between;
Within, the well-paid artist lays it out,
To look ten times more rural than without;
The silver paper, or the stucco'd wall,
Are here discarded-'tis enchantment, all.—
Arcadian landscapes, 'neath Italian skies,
Profusely glow,' and Alps o'er Alps arise; '
In bright relief Corinthian columns stare,
Intwin'd with leaves that grow by magic there;
And there you sit, all safe and snug at home,
And gaze at Spain and Turkey, Greece, and
Rome.

Ab, there he sits! poor Felix, sits and yawns,
In spite of paper trees and painted lawns.
-It did at first, when all was fresh and new,
While people wonder'd, for a day or two;
But always, always, that eternal view!
Yes, there they are! behold it when he will,
The dancing shepherds, always standing still;
The mountains glowing just the same as ever,
And there the rising sun, that rises never;

The first blue strip of horizontal sea;
Again 'tis lost for many a weary mile,
He thirsting to behold it all the while;
At length bare bills bespeak his near advance;
-Now straight before him rolls the wide ex-
panse;

The road, with sudden turn and steep descent,
Reveals it to him to his heart's content;
But so abrupt and near, it seems as though,
Himself, and chaise, and all, to sea must go.
And now the crowded lodgings searching
through,

For one to suit him, with a fine sea-view,.
He's forc'd, at last, though not for want of
cash,

To take a shabby room and single sash ; Where 'twixt two sloping roofs, there just may be

A slice triangular of rolling sea;
A narrow stint, and there he sits alone;
Refresh'd with zephyrs from the torrid zone,
And watching all the morning, scarce can fail
[ery,
To spy a passing oar or distant sail:
'How pleasant,' then, in languid tone, he'll
To sit and see the boats and ships go by!"

That Felix " soon posted back no wiser than he came," will easily be supposed: and from his failure this sprightly moralist takes occasion to recominend an interesting study of a higher class; that of the mind. This is the purport of her book; and in this we wish her

success.

It must be acknowledged, that this heroic Essayist has well armed herself with weapons of no ordinary keenness. Those who might parry the thrust of a rapier, or ward the blow of a broad sword from a master's hand, will scarcely know how to fence with the polished needles of this sharp reprover. They wound not dangerously, but deeply; they pierce, She deals out but they do not cut. her acutest points with little reserve; and

pricks both cons and non-cons. She encounters, with an adroitness, not often seen, and very rarely equally felt.

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How far the good old vicar, whose Velvet Cushion lately delighted the religious world, would express his approbation of some very spirited lines, may be doubted: perhaps, we might again hear him saying: Seventy years acquaintance with myself has taught me not anxiously to search out each other's nakedness; but rather to approach the faults of others backwards, and throw the mantle over them."

"I think, my dear," said the good lady, "you seem almost to cast an eye of reproach on that page of adinirable versification:"

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never more

filled up, towards the close of life; and this might well enough be expected, from what we know of his latter days, With a mind more at ease, his person followed the ordinary course of nature; and this he was, at the time of his decease. We consider the original of this bust, as a cast after his death; the head has received the chief attention of the sculptor; and herein we conclude he was guided by nature. That this bust existed, in its place, soon after the poet's departure, appears from Dugdale's "Antiquities of Warwickshire," 1656, who gives a plate of the monument. It is also mentioned by Langbaine, 1691, who pronounced it his "true effigies." -The rest, we shall give in Mr. Britton's own words.

Were I not fully satisfied with the ge nuineness of the Bust, and the talents of the respective Artists, I should certainly never have sacrificed my own time, or trespassed on the attention of the public, by publishing the print now announced. But Shakspeare, like the ignis fatuus, often leads man out of the plain beaten path, and tempts him into those regions where art and nature seem to struggle for ascendancy, and where a surrounding mirror shows him all his own passions, as well as those of the whole human race. thing authentic of such a man, and that comes before us in an un"questionable shape," is valuable and interesting; and his Bust at Stratford is certainly of this class.

Every

Fronti nulla fides was truly applied as a proverb, than to Portraits of Shakspeare, such as we have usually seen thein, We have never believed that the Portrait prefixed to the first folio, could be that of the man who wrote the first play, to say no more, in the book. It wants intelligence, spright-out of a block of soft stone; and was ori The Bust is the size of life; it is formed liness, suavity, command; the Chandois picture is little better, and has no external evidence in its favour, as the former has. We have seen many other "Shakspeares ; but, none of them traceable to any authority. On the other hand, we know not how to agree with Mr. B. that the poet never sat for his picture; if he did not employ a first rate artist, yet he must have had among his theatrical painters, more than one hand capa-state above one hundred and twenty years, ble of delineating his features, though roughly.

On this supposition, that general likeness of Shakspeare may be account ed for, which has prevailed since his time. The portrait before us, is not decisive evidence to the contrary; for it shews the bard somewhat fatter, and

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ginally painted over in imitation of nature. The bands and face were of flesh colour, the eyes of a light hazle, and the hair and beard, auburn; the doublet, or coat, was scarlet, and covered with a loose black gown, or tabard, without sleeves; the upper part of the cushion was green, the Such appear to have been the original under half crimson, and the tassels gilt. features of this important, but neglected or insulted bust. After remaining in this

Mr. John Ward, grandfather to Mrs. Siddons and Mr. Kemble, caused it to be "repaired, and the original colours preserved," in of Othello. This was a generous, and ap1748, from the profits of the representation parently judicious act; and therefore very unlike the next alteration it was subjected to, in 1795. In that year, Mr. Malone caused the bust to be covered over with

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