begged him to keep the adventure a fecret, as indeed he might have been fufficiently difpofed to do, of himself. ture from fome pealants, Theander, mounting his horfe, went immediately to vifit his friend.. Cleonimus gave him Cleonimus returned to Babylon, but an account of the affair, but concealed made no mention of what had happened. the circumftances by which it had been Next day, as foon as he was dreffed, be occafioned. Theander could not penewaited on Aftiages. Your purpofe, faid rate into the mystery, but rejoiced to he, has failed of fuccefs, and the men fee his friend fafe. He went next to whom you employed as minifters of fee Aftiages, who was fo confounded at your malice, have received a different what had been faid to him by Cleonimus, reward from what they expected. I that he hardly knew his brother again. might without fhame or forrow avenge The traitor confidering that his guilt myfelf upon you; but I fhall be fatis- could not remain always concealed, refied with convincing you of the base folved to be firft with Theander. With nefs of your conduct. Refiect, Aftiages, this view he reprefented the intimacy, that a man of your profeffion knows between Cleonimus and me in the blackmore honourable means of ridding him- eft colours. He told him, that his dif felf of an enemy. In regard to The honourable intercourse with me was not ander, I am willing to reftrain my re- unknown to him, and that his friendfentment, and not cover his brother fhip for a man who was fo bafely impos with merited difgrace. Cleonimus, as ed upon him, rendered him ridiculous in he ended these words, left Aftiages, the eyes of the whole city. without waiting to hear his reply. We had already heard of this adven C (To be concluded in our next.) ९ POETRY.' ODE TO THE MORNING. HILD of the light, fair morning hour, I come to woo thy cheering pow'r, While ev'ry flow'r that fcents the ho I woo'd, once lover-like, the mantling morn, For the fky-woven veft of the Eve, And the tears of the iky are lefs mild. To the fair-Flow'r the tears of the sky, As the fun-beam at day-dawn were dear; Ah! marvel we not it fhould die, On the bofom of Phebe the Fair. The Cowflip that blooms unconfin'd, Tranfplanted may pine, when immur'd; For to vary what foil is affign'd, Not an oak nor a fhrub ere endur'd. On the virues fo wont to rely, Such a heart what deceit could enfnare! Ah! marvel we now it fhould die, On the bofom of Phebe the Fair. It's fpice gave the breath of the West, And the tulip it's velvet in vain, And the rain bow fo lavishly dreft, Thofe tints that no art can retain : Will no feafon these fadings repair. When o'er the land fad fuperftition threw Her gloom, and ting'd Religion with her hue, Voltaire arofe;wit's polifh'd shafts he fped, The loves and graces hover'd o'er his head; And Rome's free spirit fir'd a fervile age. E'en And piercing Boulanger † with ken profound, Drag fuperftition from her ancient ground. Buffon converges reafon's fcatter'd rays, And o'er his country fheds th' effulgent blaze. With talents wild, eccentric, yet refin'd, Raynal ftill charms, the friend of human kind. Prophetic Freret's § philofophic page, Foretells the wifdom of the prefent age. T'enlighten man, here fam'd Helvetius wiit, And deck'd his system with exuberant wit. Whil D'Alembert with every fage com bin'd, Pours the full tide of fcience on mankind. Here Bailly read with keen difcerning eye, ** The facred volume of th' expanded sky, Call'd down the ftars to vindicate old time, And 'ftead of fables gave us truths' fublime, Hail, fhades rever'd! in wisdom's paths you trod, "And look'd thro' nature up to nature's God." Hail Gallia's pride! my mufe in ardent lays, Fir'd by the theme, attempts to fing your praise ; While Liberty records each facred name, Your grateful country gives you deathlefs fame. Yet fhall the Mufe her flowing frain prolong, (May Gallia's fons applaud the plaintive fong) In noble minds the love of mercy reigns, But dire revenge a Nation's glory stains. Indignant Britain, hears a Monarch's groan Worn down by grief;-hurl'd from a fplen did throne. O fave a captive Prince, deprefs'd by woe! Preferve meek Bourbon from the menac'd blow. Reftore an infant to his fond embrace ! Call'd for, by Britain, and by Freedom's voice. * Effai fur l'Origine des Connoiffances Humaines. + L'Antiquité devoilée. Hiftoire Philofophique des Indes. Who This celebrated Author, in one of his Philofophic Differtations, written above fifty years ago, exprefsly fays, that before the end of the prefent century, part of the enormous wealth of the Clergy would be applied to the exigencies of the State. || Esprit de l'Aftronomie indienne, which carries us back to a very remote period, 3,299 years before the commencement of the prefent æra. ** Encyclopedia. Who with huge scythe, and defolating hand, Sweep truth and genius from their native land; While each his fcroll of folemn nonfenfe brings! To fix the fate of kingdoms, and of kings! Fashion! thou bufy, empty, restless thing, Divine fimplicity of humble birth; Where various fhops on various follies thrive, "Beaux, banish beaux-and coaches, coaches drive :" While to Hyde-park this titled tribe are flocking, To walk in boots-or ride in filken ftocking. View the proud manfion of acknowledg'd taste, A tomb of luxury 'midft a weedy wafte; While many a Chatterton expires for want! Who never knows the fearful guilty night, A thousand guineas But greets, without a blufh, returning light. Simplicity, who quaffs the mountain breeze, O, Fafhion! delegate of tafte and wit, peaches "Tempora mutantur!" say the thinking few! Yet fome great fouls on gain so keen are fet, They'll eat a cat to win a trifling bett! While fome, in worst:d hofe and shabby fcratch, Rile fifty miles to fee-a boxing match! Though few, but to obtain fome fecret end, Would cross the threshold to relieve a friend! As Pope, the prince of Satire, once Or rather, blushing, leave the bibles out, Yet to Hyde Park on horseback they reThough all November's biting blasts are pair, there! Prepofterous Fashion! Imp of dangerous art, Who bids Philanthropy forfake the heart; That Who, when the * learns the way grown prudent, To live content on Forty pounds a day! Cries, vulgar! wretched! what, his horfes gone! His giants, jockeys, grooms, and phaeton! Where epicures confume what folly caters; No bawling catches and no catching balls, Sweet fcenes! of dancing. finging, eating, drinking, Of every rational delight,--fave" thinking! Ye beauteous Dames! the boaft of modern times, Who ape the French,-yet foudder at their crimes; And foaming mountains fwell th' infuriate space; She braves the vaunting banners, dy'd in blood, That wave infulting o'er th' indignant flood, While, with anfullied Fame, her bofom glows, A dauntlefs Bulwark 'gainst an Hoft of S when fome goddefs, from the ethe rial height Defcending, wraps in clouds her beauty's blaze, She hides from mortals the refulgent light, Left they fhould perish, as they fondly gaze. 'Tis thus, in kind relief, the veiling fhade Softens that bloom, thofe eyes fuffufing fire, Left, dazzled as we look, too lovely Maid, We fink in faint delirium, and expire! Yet the fweet influence of thy fhaded eye, The charming languifh of a face fo fair; Thy modeft blush, like the mild morning fky, Thy timid glance, thy meek retiring air, Such tenderness to all thy beauties give, That only with a trembling heart we live! THE |