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from the path of virtue by the commission of adultery was shunned and abhorred by all who had the least regard for their own character: she was condemned to total exclusion from all intercourse in social life.

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"She who had renounced

Her sex's honour, was renounced herself
By all that prized it."

But, alas! that time is past.-Modern candour has insti tuted a new code of laws, and modern liberality, in defiance of all the positive commands of God, now finds excuses for every fault-palliations for every offence.

"Virtue is now seen publicly to associate with Vice. Females, who have no pretensions to chastity, are become companions for some of the most immaculate of their sex. Adulterers and adulteresses are permitted, in recompence of their offence, to enter together within the holy pale of matrimony, and thus to encourage others to gratify passions, which might else be considered as hopeless. And that nothing may be left undone to complete the conquest of prejudice, fashion is labouring, and apparently with great success, to obtain a general sacrifice of that modesty, which is the appointed guardian of female chastity.” (To be continued.)

Causes of the inefficiency of Fasts, a Sermon preached at the Octagon Chapel, Bath, on the Fast Day, Oct. 19, 1803: By the Rev. John Gardiner, D. D.

DR. Gardiner, the author of this eloquent discourse,


have done equal credit to the talents of the writer, and the judgment of the hearers who have requested their publication. Stimulated, no doubt, by many flattering testimonies of approbation, he lately published a volume of practical Sermons, preached before the respectable auditory of the Octagon Chapel, at Bath, of which he is the minister. In those excellent discourses, he appears as well in the character of the Parish Priest, as of the loquent Orator; and we know not in which of the characters, he most merits our approbation. We noticed the volume, almost as soon as it was published, desirous of contributing our recommendation of it, as well to the reader of taste, as the man of piety. We wish it to be generally understood, that, in our Review of Sermons,



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more particularly, we have always a regard to our younger brethren: for we are truly solicitous both to direct their judgment, and improve their taste: and it was with singular satisfaction we found in the perusal of this volume, that it was equally calculated for both purposes.

The Sermon now under our notice excited in our minds these reflections: Dr. Gardiner appears anxious that the Fasts prescribed by authority, should be observed with devout solemnity, that they may bring down the divine blessing and protection. He writes like a sound Divine, and a true Patriot. This discourse discovers, throughout every part, just reasoning and genuine piety. Our limits forbid us to make quotations. We shall conclude our account of it by observing, that, should a day of national humiliation be again appointed, we could wish to see a judicious abridgment of this discourse in a cheap Edition, to be distributed by the clergy in their several parishes, previous to the observance of the day. And we are fully persuaded, that, under the 'Divine bles sing, the Fast Day would, in consequence, be more uni versally and religiously observed.


The following are the Subjects for the Prizes given by the Representatives in Parliament for the University of Cambridge, for the present year.

Senior Bachelors.

Quid commodi, aut incommodi, e republica hominum nigrorum sive coloratorum inter occidentales insulas nuper constituta, derivari queat?

Middle Bachelors.

Quibus modis, & gradibus, civitates jam forentes, paulatim labare, inclinare et occidere soleant?





(Continued from page 118.)

Far other they who rear'd yon pompous shrine,
And bade the rock with Parian marble shine.
Then hallow'd Peace renew'd her wealthy reign,
Then altars smok'd, and Sion smil'd again.
There sculptur'd gold, and costly gems were seen,
And all the bounties of the British queen;
There barb'rous kings their sandal'd nations led,
And steel-clad champions' bow'd the crested head.
There when her fiery race the desert pour'd,
And pale Byzantium fear'd Medina's sword,
When coward Asia shook in trembling woe,
And bent appall'd before the Bactrian bow;
From the moist regions of the western star
The wand'ring hermit wak'd the storm of war
Their limbs all iron, and their souls all flame,
A countless host, the red-cross warriors came:
E'en hoary priests the sacred combat wage,
And clothe in steel the palsied arm of age;
While beardless youths and tender maids assume
The weighty morion and the glancing plume.
In bashful pride the warrior virgins wield
The pond'rous falchion, and the sun-like shield,
And start to see their armour's iron gleam
Dance with blue lustre in Tabaria's stream.--
-The blood-red banner floating o'er their van,
All madly blithe the mingled myriads ran:
Impatient Death beheld his destin'd food,
And hov'ring vultures snuff'd the scent of blood.
-Not such the numbers, nor the host so dread
By northern Brenn, or Scythian Timur led;
Not such the heart-inspiring zeal that bore
United Greece to Phrygia's reedy shore!

There Gaul's proud knights with boastful mien advance,
Form the long line, and shake the cornel lance;
Here, link'd with Thrace, in close battalions stand

Ausonia's sons, a soft inglorious band;

There the stern Norman joins the Austrian train,
And the dark tribes of late-reviving Spain:
Here in black files, advancing firm and slow,
Victorious Albion twangs the deadly bow:---
Albion still prompt the captive's sword to aid,

And wield in freedom's cause the freeman's generous blade!


Ye sainted spirits of the warrior dead,
Whose giant force Britannia's armies led!
Whose bickering falchions, foremost in the fight;
Still pour'd confusion on the Soldan's might ;
Lords of the biting axe and beamy spear,
Wide conquering Edward, lion Richard, hear!
At Albion's call your crested pride resume,
And burst the marble slumbers of the tomb!
Your sons behold, in arms, in heart the same,
Still press the footsteps of parental fame,
To Salem still their gen'rous aid supply,
And pluck the palm of Syrian chivalry!---
When he, from tow'ry Malta's yielding isle,
And the green waters of reluctant Nile,

The Apostate chief,---from Mizraim's subject shore,
To Acre's walls his trophied banners bore;
When the pale desart mark'd his proud array,
And desolation hoped an ampler sway;
What Hero then triumphant Gaul dismay'd?
What arm repell'd the victor renegade?
Britannia's Champion!-bath'd in hostile blood,
High on the breach the dauntless SEAMAN stood:
Admiring Asia saw th' unequal fight,~

E'en the pale Crescent bless'd the Christian's might.
O day of death! O thirst, beyond controul,
Of crimson conquest in the Invader's soul!
The slain, yet warm, by social footsteps trod,
O'er the red moat supplied a panting road;
O'er the red moat our conq'ring thunders flew,
And loftier still the grisly rampire grew.
While proudly glow'd above the rescued tower
The wavy cross, that mark'd Britannia's power.
Yet still destruction sweeps the lonely plain,
And heroes lift the gen'rous sword in vain.
Still o'er her sky the clouds of anger roll,
And God's revenge hangs heavy on her soul.
Yet shall she rise;---but not by war restor'd,
Not built in murder ;---planted by the sword.
Yes, Salem, thou shalt rise: thy Father's aid
Shall heal the wound his chastening hand has made;
Shall judge the proud oppressor's ruthless sway,
And burst his brazen bonds, and cast his cords away.
Then on your tops shall deathless verdure spring,
Break forth, ye mountains, and ye vallies sing
No more your thirsty rocks shall frown forlorn,
The Unbeliever's jest, the Heathen's scorn;
The sultry sands shall tenfold harvests yield,
And a new Eden deck the thorny field,---


F'en now perhaps, wide waving o'er the land,
The mighty Angel lifts his golden wand;
Courts the bright vision of descending pow'r,
Tells ev'ry gate, and measures ev'ry tow'r ;
And chides the tardy seals that yet detain
Thy Lion, Judah, from his destin'd reign.

And who is He? the vast, the awful form
Girt with the whirlwind, sandal'd with the storm?.
A western cloud around his limbs is spread,
His crown a rainbow, and a Sun his head;
To highest Heav'n he lifts his kingly hand
And treads at once the Ocean and the Land
And hark! his voice amid the thunders roar,
His dreadful voice, that time shall be no more!
-Lo! cherub hands the golden courts prepare,
Lo! thrones are set, and every saint is there:
Earth's utmost bounds confess their awful sway,
The mountains worship, and the Isles obey;

Nor Sun nor Moon they need,---nor day nor night;---
God is their temple, and the Lamb their light;
And shall not Israel's sons exulting come,"

Hail the glad beam and claim their ancient home?
On David's throne shall David's offspring reign,
And the dry bones be warm with life again---
Hark! white-rob'd crowds their deep Hosannas raise,
And the hoarse flood repeats the sound of praise;
Ten thousand harps attune the mystic song,
Ten thousand thousand saints the strain prolong;
Worthy the Lamb! omnipotent to save,

Who died, who lives, triumphant o'er the Grave!"


A SERMON preached at St. Asaph, at the Ordination of the Right Reverend the Lord Bishop of St. Asaph, on Wednesday, Sept. 21, 1803, by HENEAGE HORSLEY, A. M. Prebendary of St. Asaph, and late Student of Christ Church, Oxford. Published by his Lordship's command, 4to.

The TRYAL of the SPIRITS; a seasonable Caution against Delusion. In three Discourses, addressed to the Congregation assembled in Christ Church, Bath, by the Rev. CHARLES DAUBENY, Minister of Christ Church, Bath. 8vo.


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