supper, say his prayers, and thank Heaven that he has not one single grain of romance or enthusiasm in his whole composition.

Jan. 27th. Escaped from the noisy crowd of the Corso, to the silent solitude of the Coliseum. Considering the depredations which have for so many ages been committed upon this pile, it is wonderful that so much remains. It must have been a noble sight, to behold this vast Amphitheatre filled with Spectators. The very lowest computation allows that it would certainly contain Eighty, thousand. HENRY MATTHEWS,

Henry VIII b. 1490; crowned 1509; d. 1547. Queen ANNE BULLEN to HENRY VII. 1 Senior ri

mé,

Your grace's displeasure and my imprisonment are things so strange unto m as what to write, or what to excuse I am altogether, ignorant. Whereas you send unto me (willing me to confess a truth, and so obtain your favor) by such a one whom you know to be my ancient professed enemy; I no sooner received this message by him, (a) than I rightly conceived your meaning; and if, as you say, confessing a truth indeed, may procure my safety, I shall, with all willingness and duty, perform your command.

But let not your grace ever imagine, that your poor wife, will ever be brought to acknowledge a fault, where not so much as a thought thereof preceded. And, to speak a truth, never prince had wife more loyal in all duty, and in all true affection, than you have ever found in Anne Bullen; with which name and place I could willingly have contented myself, if God and your grace's pleasure had been so pleased. Neither did I at any time so far forget myself in my exaltation or received queenship, but that I always looked for such an alteration as now I find; for the ground of my preferment being on no surer foundation than your grace's fancy, the least alteration, I knew, was fit and sufficient to draw that fancy to some other subject. You have chosen me from a low estate to be your queen and companion far beyond my desert and desire. If, then, you found me worthy of such honor, good your grace, let not any light fancy or bad counsel of my enemies withdraw your princely favor from me neither let that stain, that unworthy stain, of a disloyal (a) Duke of Norfolk..

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heart towards your good grace, ever cast so foul a blot on your most dutiful wife and the infant princess, your daughter. Try me, good king, but let me have a lawful trial; and let not my sworn enemies sit as my accusers and judges; yea, let me receive an open trial, (for my truth shall fear no shame,) then shall you see either my innocence cleared, your suspicion and conscience satis fied, the ignominy and slander of the world stopped, or my guilt openly declared. So that whatsoever God or You" may determine of me, your grace may be freed from an open censure, and, my offence being so lawfully proved, your grace is at liberty, both before God and man, not only to execute worthy punishment on me, as an unlaw ful wife but to follow your affection, already settled on that party for whose sake aan set whose name (b) I could some good while since have pointed unto your grace; being not ignorant of my suspicion therein. But, if you have already determined of me, and that not only my death, but an infamous slander must bring you the enjoying of your desired happiness, then I desire of God that He will pardon your great sin therein, and likewise my enemies, the instruments thereof; and that He will not call you to a strict account for your unprincely and cruel usage of me, at his general Judgement-seat, where both you and myself must shortly appear, and in whose judgement, I doubt not (whatsoever the world may think of me) my Innocence shall be openly known and sufficiently cleared. My last, and only request, shall be, that myself may only bear the burden of your grace's displeasure; and that it may not touch the innocent souls of those poor gentlemen, (a) who, as I understand, are likewise in strait imprisonment for my sake. If ever I found favor in your sight, if ever the name of Anne Bullen hath been pleasing in your eyes, then let me obtain this request; and I will so leave to trouble your grace any farther, with my earnest prayers to the Trinity to have your grace in His good keeping, and to direct you in all your actions.

From my doleful prison in the Tower, the 6th of May. (b)

Your most loyal and ever faithful wife,
ANNE BULLEN.

(a) Lady Jane Seymour.

Messieurs Norris, Weston, Breton, and Smeton, who were all (c) In 1536.

executed.

The Morning Hymn is written in imitation of one of those Psalms where, in the overflowings of gratitude and praise, the Psalmist call's not only upon the angels, but upon the most conspicuous parts of the inanimate creation, to join with him in extolling their common Maker. Invocations of this nature fill the mind with glorious ideas of God's works, and awaken that divine enthusiasm which is so nat ural to devotion. But if this calling upon the dead parts of nature is at all times a proper kind of worship, it was in a particular manner suitable to our first parents, who had the Creation fresh upon their minds, and had not seen the various dispensations of Providence, consequently, could be acquainted with those many topics of praise which might afford matter to the devotions of their posterity: I need not remark the beautiful Spirit of Poetry which runs through this whole Hymn, nor the Holiness of that Resolution with which it concludes.

nor,

Morning Hymn.

ADDISON.

These are thy glorious works, Parent of good!..
Almighty! Thine this universal frame

Thus wonderous fair

Unspeakable

-

Thyself how wonderous then! who sit'st above these heavens

To us invisible, or but dimly seen

In these thy lower works; yet these declare
Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.
Speak ye! who best can tell, ye sons of light,
Angels for ye behold Him, and with songs
And choral symphonies, day without night,
Circle his throne rejoicing: ye in Heaven!
On Earth! join all ye Creatures

- to extol

Him first, Him last, Him midst, and without end.
Fairest of Stars! last in the train of night,

If better thou belong not to the dawn,

Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn
With thy bright circlet, praise Him in thy sphere,
While day arises, that sweet hour of prime.
Thou Sun! of this great world both Eye and Soul,
Acknowledge Him thy greater sound His praise
In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st,
And when high noon hast gained, and when thou fallest.
Moon! that now meet'st the orient sun, now fliest
With the fixed stars, fixed in their orb that flies
And ye Five other wandering Fires! that move
In mystic dance, not without song, resound
His praise, who out of darkness called up light.
Air! and ye Elements! the eldest birth
Of nature's womb, that in quaternion run
Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix,

-

And nourish all things, let your ceaseless change
Vary to our great Maker still new praise.
Ye Mists! and Exhalations! that now rise
From hill or steaming lake, dusky or grey,
Till the Sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold,
In honor to the world's great Author rise
Whether to deck with clouds the uncolored sky,
Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers
Rising, or falling, still advance His praise.

His praise, ye Winds! that from four quarters blow
Breathe, soft or loud: and wave your tops, ye Pines!
With every Plant! in sign of worship wave.
Fountains! and ye that warble, as ye flow,
Melodious Murmurs! warbling tune His praise.
Join voices, all ye Living Souls! ye Birds!
That, singing, up to heaven's gate ascend,
Bear on your wings and in your notes His praise.
Ye that in Waters glide! and ye that walk
The Earth and stately tread, or lowly creep,
Witness if I be silent, morn or even,
To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade,
Made vocal by my song, and taught His praise.

Hail, Universal Lord! be bounteous still
To give us only good; and if the night
Have gathered aught of evil, or concealed,
Disperse it! as now light dispels the dark.

MILTON.

Satirical Wit.

Trust me! this unwary Pleasantry of thine will, sooner or later, bring thee into scrapes and difficulties, which no After-wit can extricate thee out of. In these sallies, too oft I see, it happens, that the person laughed at considers himself in the light of a person injured, with all the rights of such a situation belonging to him; and when thou viewest him in that light too, and reckonest upon his friends, his family, his kindred, and allies and musterest up with them the many recruits which will list under him, from a sense of common danger 'tis no extravagant arithmetic to say, that for every ten jokes, thou hast got a hundred enemies; and, till thou hast gone on, and raised a swarm of wasps about thy ears, and art half sturg to

death by them, thou wilt never be convinced that it is so. I cannot suspect it in the man whom I esteem, that there is the least spur from spleen, or malevolence of intent, in these sallies. I believe and know, them to be truely honest and sportive; but consider fools cannot distinguish this, and knaves will not; and thou knowest not what it is, either to provoke the one, or to make merry with the other: for whenever they associate for mutual defence, depend upon it! they will carry on the war in such a manner against thee, my dear friend, as to make thee heartily sick of it and of thy life too.

1

Revenge, from some baneful corner, shall level a tale of dishonor at thee, which no innocence of heart or integrity of conduct shall set right. The fortunes of thy house shall totter-thy character, which led the way to them, shall bleed on every side-thy faith questioned thy works belied-thy wit forgotten thy learning trampled on!: To wind up the last scene of thy tragedy Cruelty and Cowardice, twin-ruffians, hired and set on, by Malice, in the dark, shall strike together at all thy Infirmities and Mistakes the best of us, my friend, lie open there! and trust me, when, to gratify a private appetite, it is once resolved upon, that an innocent and a helpless creature shall be sacrificed, it is an easy matter to pick up sticks enow, from any thicket where it has strayed, to make a fire to offer it up with.

STERNE

The Beggar and the Divine.

In some good books one reads of a Divine ?
Whose memorable case deserves a line;
Who, to serve God the best and shortest way,
Prayed, for eight years together, every day,
That in the midst of Doctrines and of Rules,
However taught and practised by the Schools,
He would be pleased to bring him to a Man
Prepared to teach him the Compendious plan.

He was himself a Doctor, and well read
In all the points to which Divines were bred;
Nevertheless, he thought, that what concerned
'The most illiterate as well as learned,