In those wide wounds, through which his spirit fled,

Shall flies and worms obscene pollute the dead.”

The practice of burning the dead, sanctioned by the example of the ancients, would relieve us from many difficulties, which our mode of interment has to encounter. The thought of leaving our friends to the loathsome devastations of corruption, equally reprobated by both ancients and moderns, would be anticipated by the ravages of the devouring element, to which they may be consigned. The fears of contagion from this quarter, now so prevalent in populous cities, would be dissipated by this summary process of prevention. After the fire has forestalled all apprehensions of this kind, we may preserve in urns all that can be preserved of our relatives and friends, and can a stronger motive attach us than a consideration of the identity of their dust? A man's sepulchre would then be in the bosom of his own family, a perpetual warning to his descendants, that all their labours and exertions, their hopes and disappointments, must finally terminate in the urn before their eyes, awaiting to receive the scanty accumulation of their bodies, after all those towering hopes and expectations shall be enjoyed, or disappointed. The surviving posterity would know with certainty that they inherited the dust of their ancestors; and the connecting link between the living and the dead, now too often destroyed by the appropriation of the grave yard to o her purposes, might be preserved entire for a series of ages. How much

more correspondent to truth, and at the same time with how much more justice, might the poet Gray, have penned the following lines, in his beautiful elegy, if the word urn had been substituted for grave!

"E'en from the urn the voice of nature cries;

E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires."

The poets of antiquity have availed themselves of the superstitious reverence, paid by their countrymen to the dead, and founded on it some of their most interesting fables. Allowing what we please for the embellishments of the muse, enough still remains to form a faithful picture of the times. The family urn was a home for their ashes, and none could endure the thought of becom ing exiles in death. No exertions were too arduous in the hour of battle to reclaim and restore to their country the bodies of the The thought of dying in a foreign land embittered the agonies of death, and nothing quieted such apprehensions more than an assurance from their surviving friends, that their ashes should repose in the urns of their fathers.

native

dead.

We fear not the stings of any literary Culex, when we assert, that the urn tended powerfully to nourish and preserve the patriotism of the ancients. This mortuary domicile partook of that reverence and love, which was felt for the paternal roof. The thoughts of emigration were not with them as amongst us, confined to the pain of a separation merely from living relatives and friends: the unity of death, if we may be allowed the expression, was broken and disturbed. were then to be deposited in a strange land, remote from those of their angestors. Hence when adverse for

Their ashes

tune compelled a separation, amongst the many melancholy lamentations excited by such events, we find an absence from the urn one of the principal causes.

The same enthusiastick reverence might be excited amongst us, were the same expedients adopted. Our mode of burial on the other hand applies an oblivious antidote to such feelings; and it is no uncommon thing to behold a man, who has recently attended the funeral, inquiring for the spot, where the remains of his father are deposited. One generation begins one grave yard, another generation another, until this strange disposition breaks up all recollection of former times. Many are as ignorant of their ancestors, as if they themeslves the accidental offspring of the elements. This gives

to presumptuous arrogance an opportunity of uniting its existence with great and venerable characters, and tracing from them a legitimate descent with no other foundation in fact, than the fortuitous similitude of their names. It likewise debars a man of unassuming merit from claiming the privilege of just genealogy, since the plough has past over the ashes, of his ancestors and what was once the spot where their identity might be discovered,is by the vicissitude of interment converted into a cornfield. Ancient poets have spoken of the River of Lethe, in terms of abhorrence, but we have substituted fact for their fictions; and though it has been and now is in our power to change the course of the stream, we have done every thing to deepen its channel and widen its surface. R.

DEPARTMENT III.
Miscellaneous.

I. Rudiments of Grammar for the English Saxon tongue, by ELIZABETH ELSTOв. London. 1715. 4to.

This grammar was printed with Saxon types, cut for the purpose, at the expense of Lord Chief Justice PARKER.

The learned lady who composed this work was born 1683. Under many disadvantages from humble birth and poverty, she made astonishing progress in literature, and became mistress of eight languages besides her own. Having with diffi. culty subsisted some time by keep ing a small school, she was, at last, countenanced by Mr. GEORGE BAL

LARD, and the wife of the Rev. Mr. CAPON, who kept a boarding school at Stanton, in Gloucestershire. They raised for her, among her friends, an annuity of 217. which Queen CAROLINE was pleased to continue till her own death; after which she was taken into the family of the Duchess dowager of Portland, as governess to her children; in which she died, May 30, 1756.

For other particulars of Miss ELSTOB, see NICHOLS' Anecdotes of BOWYER, p. 10, 48, 316,and 498.

Author of "Memoirs of British La dies who have been celebrated for their

writings or skill in the learned languages,

arts and sciences." 1752. 4to and 8vo. Mr. Bal

and reprinted in 8vo. 1775; lard was originally a stay-maker.

and Annotations of GIROLAM. GIOVANNI render the work more interesting.

The writer was remarkable for uniting one of the lowest occupations in life with great literary attainments. Though a tailor by trade, he was author of several works of much celebrity, was a member of the Academy at Florence, and was admitted to the friendship of all men of genius and learning in that city. He was born in 1408, and died in the 65th year

of his age. His dialogues, which

are in the manner of Lucian, have been translated into Latin, French, and English.

V. Certain fruitful sermons, by HUGH LATIMER, Bishop of Worcester. London. 1635. 4to.

This worthy prelate was a celebrated preacher at Court, in the reign of Edward VI. when there were no sermons but in the principal churches, and upon some particular fasts and festivals: it is probable that they drew the attention of the people, as much for their rarity, as the reputation of the preacher.* We are informed by Dr. HEYLIN, that such crowds went to hear LATIMER, that the pulpit was removed out of the Royal Chapel into the Privy Garden.† Artless and uncouth as his sermons appear to us, yet such was the effect of his preaching, that restitution was made to the king of very considerable sums of which he had been defrauded. As a specimen of the quaintness of his manner, we refer to his sermon on John i. 19. which is divided in allusion to a pack of cards.‡ Bishop LATIMER was a zealous

*GRANGER'S Biographical History of England, Vol. 1. p. 97.

+ History of the Reformation, p. 57. See Fox's Acts and Mouuments, p. 1571, edit. 1492.

promoter of the Reformation, and on the accession of Queen Mary, he and Bishop RIDLEY were sentenced to be burnt at Oxford, in 1555. In STRYPE'S " Memorials of CRANMER," is a picture of him with a staff in his right hand, a pair of spectacles hanging at his breast, and a bible at his girdle. This venerable prelate, worn out with labour, old age and imprisonment, walked thus equipped to the place of execution. When he was chained to the stake, two bags of gunpowder were fastened under his arms, the explosion of which, presently put an end to his life. "While he was burning, a large quantity of blood gushed from his heart as if all the blood in his body had been drawn to that part."

VI. APOLLONIUS PERGAUS de sectione rationis, edit. BARROW. London. 1675. folio.

We refer to this work merely to introduce the following translation of the prayer of Dr. BARROW from the preface.

66

Geometry knows no limits, and even human sagacity can discover numberless new truths: but theu, O GOD, perceivest them all at one view, without any chain of deduction, or tiresome length of demonstration. In other subjects, our intellect possesses but little power: like the imagination of brutes, it seems only to dream of some uncer. tain objects, concerning which there are almost as many opinions as there are men. But in mathematical truths, there is an universal agree-. ment; in them the human mind seems capable of something great and wonderful. Thee, therefore, I rejoice to love. To thee I look up, ardently longing for that day,

*Turner's History of Remarkable. Providences.

when thy immense and most holy benignity shall enable me to understand not only these, but far more numerous and important truths,

with a mind purged from errour and prejudice, and without this successive and laborious effort of thought."

MRS. MONTAGU TO LORD KAMES.

MY LORD,

"I AM rejoiced to find I have pleased Mrs. Drummond and your Lordship in the epargne; but you have disappointed ine terribly about my notable letter on the subject of ornament. I was in hopes it would have given occasion to a paper war between us. I imagined you would laugh at me, quarrel with me, rally me, confute me, and do every thing but what no disputant ever does with his antagonist, convince me; but instead of that, you are mighty silent, and mighty civil; and you put my letter quietly in your pocket; and very politely say, you may hereafter put some of my conjectures into your Elements of Criticism: but the muses forbid that my reveries, like poor maggots in amber, should there lie so conspicuously preserved ! * Your Lordship never mentions Dr. Gregory, or any of my Edinburgh friends. I hope they are all well. I often think of the agreeable society I enjoyed in Scotland, with great pleasure, and as great desire to return to it.I will chide your Lordship for exposing my nonsense to Mr. Fergusson. I don't remember what I said; but as I admired the work, I suppose my observaVol. V. No. VII,

2 U

again. You tell me I am stately and reserved, like an actor performing a capital part in a capital play. Your Lordship is mistaken; I am like a puppet acting a foolish part in a foolish puppet-show. What does any one hear or say, think or do, read or know, in a London life, worth communicating.* ** Lord Lyttelton desired me, when I last saw him, to beg of your Lordship, who is such a judicious and accurate critick in stile, not to read the first edition of his History; as the second will be more correct, and he is ambitious of appearing in the best light to your Lordship. I don't understand all this delicacy. If I were to make a book, I should not care for all the criticks that are, or were, or ever should be. I like the play of Every Man in his Humour. Authors should be free to make blunders, and criticks to expose them. If I had lands in Parnassus, I would not inclose them with wall, pale, sunk fence, or chevaux de frise. I would resolve to write a book this moment, if I thought

* Mrs. Montagu's Essay on the Genius and Writings of Shakespeare, was not then published it did not appear till 1770. She was known however as the writer of some of the best dialoguesin Ld. Lyttel ton's Dialogues of the Dead, printed in 1762.