Ah! can her smile, and unavailing praise,
Those prostrate forms, her mute adorers raise?
Can glory cheer the grave, * or bid one tear
Relieve the bursting heart of dumb despair?
Or close his eyes, who left on Battle-plain
To linger, envies his Companions slain?
Or stay that female Fiend, the night hath sped
To pierce the dying, and to spoil the dead?

Thou Sun! that didst this Morning's pompsurvey, The burnished Field, the Battle's proud array, Now view the tragick change, the woeful price. Of Glory's sad, and sumptuous sacrifice! Behold, where'er thy blazing eye may ken, An offered host, and hecatombs of men! Then leave to night and darkness Europe's grave, For happier scenes-beyond the western wave!

* "Nunc levior cippus non imprimit ossa,

Laudat Posteritas-nunc non e Manibus illis,

Nunc non e tumulo fortunatâque favillâ

Nascuntur Viola!"

An Irishman, on being asked what was meant by Posthumous Works, replied, "Posthumous Works I take to be the Works a man writes after he is dead." Now if it be true of Fame, that "just what we hear we have;" and this was the observation of no common mind, then it follows that we can give no better account of posthumous fame, than the Irishman gave of posthumous works; namely, that posthumous fame is that fame which a man hears after he is dead!

Ah! when will Kings, grown honest, cease to dress In gorgeous garb Destruction and Distress? When Subjects, rendered wise, deny to war Its pride, its pomp, its gaze-attracting Car. O in what woe-warned, time-taught, happier age, Shall War be blotted from th' historic page? When Men, indignant, shall erase from fame The Conqueror's splendid villanies and name; When sceptered Plunderers shall their Murders rue And cease to spoil the many for the few. Ne'er doth Hypocrisy so foul appear,

*

As when she teaches Kings to feign a fear,

From all the preambles, and perorations to any procla mation of War, one would be led to suppose that Kings and Emperors were universally the most peace-loving, inoffensive, forgiving, and yet injured and insulted Beings under Heaven, But their neighbours have never so much cause to tremble for their safety, as when Kings announce to them, that their own is in danger. The late Emperor of Russia was mad; but madmen sometimes start a good idea. He proposed a plan for making wars less bloody, shorter, and less frequent. It was simple, and if adopted, would prove efficacious. He re commended that the Potentates of Europe should meet and settle their respective differences by single combat! The most notorious piece of Hypocrisy, "de la Guerre," on record, is to be found in the conduct of the Emperor Charles the Vth, when he sacked Rome, and took the Pope prisoner. This royal Juggler beat his Infallible Antagonist, even at his own weapons; for he pretended to feel most extreme sorrow for the victory; he forbad the ringing of bells; he even went into

Excuses finds, and prompts their royal Breath
To plead with Eloquence, the cause of Death;
Beneath their ermined velvet hides the Paw,
And spring elastic of the Tiger's Claw;
With milk of mercy smoothes each honied word,
But in the flesh of thousands sheathes their Sword!
O'er tombs and deserts then let Conquerors reign,
And wield a shadowy sceptre o'er the slain;
Their Peace a Solitude! * where friends nor foes
Are left, their crimes to flatter or oppose.

mourning, and caused processions to be made in Rome, and prayers to be offered up in all the churches, that it would please the Almighty, in his good time, to permit him to release his Holy Prisoner, But amidst all this outward appearance and show of contrition, he winked at the shocking excesses committed by his army in the Capital of the Pontiff; nor did he release him until he had acceded to his demands ! "Servetur ad Imum." That such a thorough-paced Impostor as this should begin by deceiving others, and end by deceiving himself, is not to be wondered at; the transition is not an uncommon one. The retirement of this Royal Pantimoroumenos to the Monastery of St. Justus; his intrusions on the repose of a few poor Monks; his inflictions of voluntary flagellations on himself; and lastly, that climax of his absurdities, the celebration of his own obsequies, before his death, and the solemn rehearsal of his funeral; these were but the natural and consequential parts of such a character; and surprize me no more than acts of cruelty and revenge in a Nero; or of resignation and forgiveness in a Socrates.

"Ubi Solitudinem faciunt, Pacem appellaut."

B b

The Prince who knows and guards a Nation's

rights,

Who Peace, with all her Sister-Arts, invites,
Who deems it,-unseduced by Courtier Knaves,
More glorious far to rule the Free, than Slaves,
Who strives much less t'increase his wide domain,
Than the true good of all his realms contain;
He builds, more firm than brass, or Parian stone,
Not o'er our graves, but in our hearts, his throne!
There reigns unarmed, more safe, and more
renowned

Than Cæsar, by twelve Legions compassed round.

But soon I close awhile the lengthened strain, Should Varius smile, I have not sung in vain; Long since too large, I ween, if wretched stuff, My Page hath swollen ;-if not,-'tis large enough; Though some small pains it cost, we dare confess It might have been made larger, with much less. * Not like Pelides armed to take the field,

A quill thine only spear, a rag † thy shield,

* Those who dislike a Book for being small, do not reflect, with how much less pains the Author could have made it larger. Perspicuous brevity in writing evinces as great a knowledge of that art, as good foreshortening does of the art of Painting. I by no means presume to hope that this is an excellence of writing that I have attained; but we may be allowed to admire what we cannot reach; and even to give rules to others, which we cannot exemplify in ourselves.

Walpole quotes this line from Fletcher,-the Idea is

Before tribunals destined to be led,

And what is worse, to be condemned, unread; For hope not thou to rout Enchantments, Knights, Dwarfs, Curses, Monsters, Castles, Spectres,

Sprites;

Or please, with modest truth, a sensual herd,
T'Anacreon, or Ambrosio preferred;
Or charm those ears, that love the style profane
And balderdash, of some French Sceptic's † brain;

*

quaint. He says of Authors "The Goose lends them a Spear, and every Rag a Shield."

* Why does not Mr. Moore write something fit to read? He has powers.

† I have some charity for the Infidelity of a Frenchman, who forms his notions of Christianity from the mummery and masquerade of Popery. But that French Sceptics should find disciples in England, is rather extraordinary; and still more so, that these disciples should plume themselves upon their conversion. But as a little learning makes a man a Sciolist; so, a smattering in Philosophy makes him an Infidel. Freethinkers, nine in ten, are not those who think freely, but rather those who are free from thinking. This is a glorious liberty, truly, to be proud of; and which is enjoyed in common with the brutes. As men of pleasure, by attempting to be more happy than any man can be, become more miserable than most men are; so Infidels, by affecting to be wise beyond what is permitted to man, are, in fact, more blind and ignorant than the multitude they despise. To walk in darkness, rather