wished to give you an idea of the magnitude of the creation; I have endeavoured to inspire a fondness for a science which is equally useful and agreeable. A few leisure moments have been sufficient to give you a knowledge of the result of numerous observations, toils, and travels; and there is a pleasure in so easily sharing the advantages of enterprizes so laborious. Let us express our gratitude to those intelligent observers, those men of profound genius, who pry into the secrets of nature, and endeavour to remove the veil which conceals her! And may my feeble efforts, by giving an additional excitement to your curiosity, more deeply impress upon your hearts that truth, to which I have repeatedly called your attention; namely, that there is a superior power, possessed of infinite wisdom, who comprehends all at one view, and whose ample beneficence extends, from the worlds scattered through the immensity of space, to the insect too small to be discerned by the human eye. There is a God; internal feeling leads us to conjecture his existence, and the study of nature confirms it. There is a God, my children; this belief embellishes life, and, to the virtuous man, proves a certain consolation under every misfortune, and in the pangs of death. There is a God, and the universe exists only for the exercise of his goodness." Matilda; or, The Welch Cottage. A Poetic Tale. By the Author of The incidents of this artless story are not destitute of interest, and the poetry is distinguished for many natural beauties. Memoirs of the late Mrs. Robinson, written by herself. With some Posthumous Pieces, 4 vols. 12mo. 11. Is. Phillips, Hurst, cnd Carpenter, 1801. Of the authority of these memoirs no person can doubt, who has carefully perused Mrs. Robinson's productions; and the propriety of giving them to the world is sanctioned by the solemn injunction of a dying parent, and the promise pledged by her child, the editor, at a moment so truly affecting. Such a work, if complete, and faithfully written, would have been highly useful to society, and particularly to a sex, on whose virtues or vices, on whose strength of mind, or excessive sensibility, so vast a portion of human happiness or misery depends. But we have to regret both, that the writer seems not to have supplied us with the right clue for exploring those "labyrinths of vicissitude" in which she was involved; and that the clue, such as it is, breaks off at too early a period, even at the entrance of those mazes through which we vainly expected to wander. From an attentive perusal of that part of the memoirs which is evidently the genuine production of Mrs. Robinson's pen, but which reaches only to the fifty-second page of the second volume, we have, however, little difficulty to believe that her character has not been fairly represented, and that she has, in various instances, been the victim of ingratitude and calumny. Of her connection with the Prince of Wales, and the unexpected dissolution of that connection, we shall give her own account, after observing, that her husband's marked indifference, and repeated ill-usage, had destroyed all love and esteem in her bosom, and that her royal lover had, in the course of an epis tolary correspondence, which lasted several months, made many vain attempts to be favoured with an interview: "At length an evening was fixed for this long dreaded interview. Lord Malden and myself dined at the inn on the island between Kew and Brentford. We waited the signal for crossing the river in a boat which had been engaged for the purpose. Heaven can witness how many conflicts my agitated heart endured at this most important moment! I admired the Prince; I felt grateful for his affection. He was the most engaging of created beings. I had corresponded with him during many months, and his eloquent letters, the exquisite sensibility which breathed through every line, his ardent professions of adoration, had combined to shake my feeble resolution. The handkerchief was waved on the opposite shore; but the signal was, by the dusk of the evening, rendered, almost imperceptible. Lord Malden took my hand, I stepped into the boat, and in a few minutes we landed before the iron gates of old Kew palace. The interview was but of a moment. The Prince of Wales and the Duke of York (then Bishop of Osnaburg) were walking down the avenue. They hastened to meet us. A few words, and those scarcely articulate, were uttered by the Prince, when a noise of people approaching from the palace startled us. The moon was now rising; and the idea of being overheard, or of his Royal Highness being seen out at so unusual an hour, terrified the whole group. After a few more words of the most affectionate nature uttered by the Prince, we parted, and Lord Malden and myself returned to the island. The Prince never quitted the avenue, nor the presence of the Duke of York, during the whole of this short meeting. Alas! my friend, if my mind was before influenced by esteem, it was now awakened to the most enthusiastic admiration. The rank of the Prince no longer chilled into awe that being, who now considered him as the lover and the friend. The graces of his person, the irresistible sweetness of his smile, the tenderness of his melodious yet manly voice, will be remembered by me till every vision of this charming scene shall be forgotten. "Many and frequent were the interviews which afterwards took place at this romantic spot; our walks sometimes continued till past midnight, the Duke of York and Lord Malden were always of the party; our conversation was composed of general topics. The Prince had from his infancy been wholly secluded, and naturally took much pleasure in conversing about the busy world, its manners manners and pursuits, characters and scenery. Nothing could be more delightful or more rational than our midnight perambulations. I always wore a dark coloured habit; the rest of our party generally wrapped themselves in great coats to disguise them, excepting the Duke of York, who almost universally alarmed us by the display of a buff coat, the most conspicuous colour he could have selected for an adventure of this nature The polished and fascinating ingenuousness of his Royal Highness's manners contributed not a little to enliven our promenades. He sung with exquisite laste; and the tones of his voice, breaking on the silence of the night, have often appeared to my entranced senses like more than mortal melody. Often have I lamented the distance which destiny had placed between us: how would my soul have idolized such a husband! Alas! how often, in the ardent enthusiasm of my soul, have I formed the wish that being were mine alone! to whom partial millions were to look up for protection. "The Duke of York was now on the eve of quitting the country for Hanover; the Prince was also on the point of receiving his first establishment; and the apprehension that his attachment to a married woman might injure his Royal Highness in the opinion of the world, rendered the caution which we invariably observed of the utmost importance. A considerable time clapsed in these delightful scenes of visionary happiness. The Prince's attachment seemed to increase daily, and I considered myself as the most blest of human beings. During some time we had enjoyed our meetings in the neighbourhood of Kew, and I now only looked forward to the adjusting of his Royal Highness's establishment for the public avowal of our mutual attachment." This relation, as well as the subsequent details, it may be necessary to remark, are not taken from the memoirs written by Mrs. Robinson, but from a letter addressed in 1783 to a valued and sincere deceased friend, who, at the period of these events, resided in America: "Previous to my first interview with his Royal Highness, in one of his letters I was astonished to find a bond of the most solemn and binding nature, containing a promise of the sum of twenty thousand pounds, to be paid at the period of his Royal Highness's coming of age. "This paper was signed by the Prince, and sealed with the royal arms. It was expressed in terms so liberal, so voluntary, so marked by true affection, that I had scarcely power to read it. My tears, excited by the most agonizing conflicts, obscured the letters, and nearly blotted out those sentiments, which will be impressed upon my mind till the latest period of my existence. Still, I felt shocked and mortified at the indelicate idea of entering into any pecuniary engagements with a Prince, on whose establishment I relied for the enjoyment of all that would render life de sirable. I was surprised at receiving it; the idea of interest had never entered my mind: secure in the possession of his heart, I had had in that delightful certainty counted all my future treasure. I had refused many splendid gifts which his Royal Highness had proposed ordering for me at Grey's and other jewellers. The Prince presented to me a few trifling ornaments, in the whole their value not exceeding one hundred guineas. Even these, on our separation, I returned to his Royal Highness through the hands of General Lake. "The period now approached that was to destroy all the fairy visions which had filled my mind with dreams of happiness. At the moment when every thing was preparing for his Royal Highness's establishment, when I looked impatiently for the arrival of that day, in which I might behold my adored friend gracefully receiving the acclamations of his future subjects; when I might enjoy the public protection of that being for whom I gave up all, I received a letter from his Royal Highness, a cold and unkind letter-briefly informing me, that "we must meet no more!" For the unexpected change in his Royal Highness's affection no reason is given, or even hinted at; but Mrs. Robinson most solemnly declares, that she was totally ignorant of any just cause for so sudden an alteration; and the obscurity which involved that event has, we understand, never been satisfactorily elucidated. Her final separation from the Prince took place in the year 1781. Several of the posthumous pieces, particularly the Progress of Liberty, and the Savage of Aveyron, may rank with the most successful of her poetical compositions, in animation, sentiment, boldness of imagery, and luxuriance of description. The fragment of Jasper is a chef d'ouvre of exquisite sensibility. The most callous to the agonies of disappointed love will not read it without emotion. When we consider the unhappy marriage of Mrs. Robinson, her unprotected situation, her tender youth, and the magnitude of the allurements which accelerated her first deviation from virtue, we cannot help exclaiming ; "Say, ye severest, 66 What would you have done?" The severe malady under which she laboured for nearly eighteen years; the base ingratitude of many to whom in the sun-shine of her prosperity she had rendered important services; the pecuniary embarrassments, from which she was scarcely ever, during the whole of her long illness, exempt; the benevolent temper, filial piety, and maternal tenderness, for which she was constantly distinguished, must, to use the language of the editor, "disarm the sternest, soften the most rigid, and awaken pity in the hardest heart." ORIGINAL ORIGINAL POETRY. ODE ON THE SUSCEPTIBILITY OF A POETIC MIND. "I would not wish thee not to weep; "There is strange pleasure in affection's tears." SOUTHEY. WHEN the Sun's broad disk, ascending, Throws around a purple stream, O'er every blade, And leafy shade, O'er every mountain crest and lowly del!, How glows the bosom of the SON OF SONG! How dear the visions, that, at Fancy's spell, Before his mental eye in quick succession throng! And, oh! how sweet, what time the nightfall shrouda How sweet, how passing sweet delight, Struggling through the sable clouds, Yet not the morning dew, that hangs A charm so sweet can boast Can pour such transport o'er the soul Of Poet, rapt in musings high Can so inspire delicious pangs- AS THE BRIGHT, FULL ORB'D TEARS, THAT TREMBLING ROLL SONNET TO A YOUNG LADY OF THE NAME OF CHRISTIAN, FAIR Christian, if a Christian fair, more dear, Though Saints were Christians once, as Christians hear, Whose Saint thou art. Oh! be not, Saint, severe; Let the next sabbath be my hallow'd day, And all thy kisses be accounted grace. AN |