beauty of his epithets. In other poets, if you are, endeavouring to recollect a passage, and find that a single word still eludes you, it is not impossible to supply it occasionally with something equivalent or superiour. But let any man attempt this in Gray's poetry, and he will find that he does not even approach the beauty of the original. Like the single window in Aladdin's palace, which the grand vizier undertook to finish with diamonds, equal to the rest, but found after a long trial, that he was not rich enough to furnish the jewels, nor ingenious enough to dispose them, so there are lines in Gray, which criticks and poets might labour forever to supply, and without success. This wonderful richness of expression has perhaps injured his fame. For some times a single word, by giving rise to a succession of images, which preoccupy the mind, obscures the lustre of the succeeding epithets. The mind is fatigued, and retarded by the crowd of beauties, soliciting the attention at the same moment to dif. ferent graces of thought and ex, pression. Overpowered by the blaze of embellishment, we cry out with Horace, "parce, Liber! parce! gravi metuende thyrso." Hence Gray, more than any other lyrick poet, will endure to be read in detached portions, and again and again.

Another characteristick of Gray, which, while it detracts something from his originality, increases the charm of his verse, is the classical raciness of his diction. Milton is the only English poet who rivals him in the remote learning of his allusions, and this has greatly restrained the number of their admirers. For my own part, I know not how the other sex can ever attain toa clear perception of the general meaning or individual beautiesof some of his

odes. It requires such a degree of previous learning as few of our own sex acquire; yet without something of classical knowledge and taste, it is impossible to feel the peculiar force and beauty of Gray's terms and images. The meaning of the word rage in this line of the Elegy, a poem which all profess to relish and admire,

Chill penury repressed their noble rage,

cannot be understood without re verting to a common use of the word ogy among the Greeks, to which Gray refers, signifying a strong bent of genius. The Progress of Poesy is peculiarly full of allusions to the Heathen Mythology. The sublime imitation of Pindar in the description of the bird of Jupiter in the second stanza, is almost worth the learning of Greek to understand.

The last perfection of verse in which Gray is unrivalled, is the power of his numbers. These have an irresistible charm even with those, who understand not his meaning, and without this musical enchantment, it is doubtful whether he would have surmounted the ignorance and insensibility, with which he was first received. His rhythm and cadences afford a perpetual pleasure, which, in the full contemplation of his other charms we sometime forget to acknowledge. There is nothing surely in the whole compass of English versification to be compared in musical structure with the third stanza of his ode on the Progress of Poesy. The change of movement in the six last lines is inexpressibly fine. The effect of these varied cadences and measures is, to my ear at least, full as great as that of an Adagio in musick immediately following a Rondo; and I admire in silent rapture the genius of that man, who could

so mould our untractable language as to produce all the effect of the great masters of musical composition. If the ancient lyricks contain many specimens of numerous verse equal to this, we need no longer wonder that they were always accompanied with musick. Poetry never approached nearer to painting,

than verse does in this stanza to the most ravishing melody.

The length which this number has reached precludes the Remarker from instituting as he intended a parallel between Collins and Gray, to show still more decisively the beautics and defects of the latter. It may be reserved for another place.

In the portraiture of deep and tragick passion, men may possibly excel women; but surely it is a fact, and no fancy, that women understand better, and pencil out more gracefully, those finer and more fugitive impressions which come under the description of sentiment. Even the countrymen of Rousseau are apt to recommend some of their fair writers, as the best models of the sentimental style. They find in them more truth, nature, gentleness; less of exaggeration and mannerisin; sensibilities less morbid, and language refined without bordering on effeminacy.

It would be a very interesting inquiry, whether this power of susceptibility in the female mind, a power made up, as we have mentioned it to be, is original, or formed by circumstances? We certainly do believe it to be in a great measure original; and yet there many things in the situation of women, in the ground which they occupy in society, that seem to assist nature in the production of the effect described. Their conscious inferiority of personal strength must

are

of itself dispose them to a cultivation of the finer and lovelier feelings; and this disposition is much aided by their exemption from those employments which hackney the minds of the other sex, and have a tendency to wear down all the minuter feelings. In consequence, too, of their domestick life, that reciprocation of social kindnesses, which is only a recreation to men, is to women in some sense a business. It is their field duty, from which household cares are their repose. Men do not seek the intercourse of society as a friend to be cultivated, but merely throw themselves on its bosom to sleep. Women, on the contrary, resort to it with recollections undistracted, and curiosity all alive. Thus, that which we enjoy and forget, keeps their attention and their feelings in constant play, and gradually matures their perceptions into

instinct.

To similar causes the softer sex owe their exquisite acquaintance with life and manners; their fine discernment of those smaller peculiarities of character which throw so much light and shade over the sur

face of ordinary society. Of the deeper varieties of the mind they know little, because they have not been accustomed to watch its movements, when agitated by the vexing disquietudes of business, or plough ed up into frightful inequalities by the tempests of publick life. It is human nature in a calm, or ruffled only into gentle undulation; it is the light restlessness of the domestick and the social passions; it is the fire-side character of mankind, which forms their chief study, and with which of course, they are perfectly intimate.

Consider also that class of domes tick occupations which concerns the care of children. Peace be to those wretched votaries of dissipation, if indeed they can find peace, who, all selfishness, resign their offspring to fortune, apparently not as pledges, but as presents. Of these we say nothing but with respect to the majority of the middling classes, there can be no question, that, either as mothers, or elder sisters, the female sex are infinitely more conversant with children than with the other. Trace the effects, naturally produced on their minds by this sort of society, for surely it may be honoured with that appellation. What habits of quick and intelligent observation must be formed by the employment of watching over interesting helplessness, and construing ill-explained wants! How must the perpetual contemplation of unsophisticated nature reflect back on the dispositions of the observer a kind of simplicity and ingenuousness! What an insight into the native constitution of the human mind must it give, to inspect it in the very act of concoction! It is as if a chemist should examine

-young diamonds in their infant dew.'

Not that mothers will be apt to indulge in delusive dreams of the perfection of human nature and human society. They see too much of the waywardness of infants, to imagine them perfect. They neither find them nor think them angels, though they often call them so. But whatever is bad or good in them, they behold untrammelled and undisguis ed. All this must, in some degree, contribute to form those peculiari ties in the female character, of which we are attempting to follow out the natural history.

The same peculiarities may, in part perhaps, be traced up to the system of European manners, which, allows to women a free association with the world, while it enjoins on them the condition of an unimpeachable strictness of conduct. However loosely the fulfilment of this condition may be exacted in some countries of Europe, the system is still pretty extensively acted upon; and it doubtless tends to produce in the sex a habit of circumspection, an alarmed sense of self-respect, and a scrupulous tenderness of that feeling, which is to conscience what decorum is to virtue. But these qualities seem to be intimately allied with delicacy of perception and of mind. In fact, in the western world, bienséance has become (if we may use a very hard and workmanlike term) the professional virtue of the fair, and it is therefore that they excel in it. On the whole, if it should be asked, why women are more refined than men? it may be asked in return, why civilized men are more refined than barbarians? It is society which has polished the savage: It is the task of presiding over the society of society, the more civiliz. ed part of civilized life, which has so highly polished, and thrown so fine a finish over the women.

Is it not then wonderful to hear some men wonder, that female minds should be so quick of comprehension on common subjects, and yet so much averse to profound disquisition; so intelligent, so susceptible of impressions, in familiar discourse, and yet, in politicks so dull, in metaphysicks so tasteless? They wonder at all this as inconsistent; but the wonder and the inconsistency would be, if the matter were otherwise. We are all adroit at that which we have practised; and these sagacious wonder ers may as well consider, why many a sage, who has mines of thought and magazines of information, sufficient to supply the intellectual commerce of a kingdom, should yet be miserably clumsy and stupid at the retail traffick of ordinary chit chat; or why many a philosopher who can determine to a minute the curvature of a comet's path, should be utterly unable to curve his own person into a tolerable bow. From these, however, or any of the preceding remarks, it were strange to conclude, that women are to be repelled from the severer studies, as if ignorance were the first of female qualifications. The remarks would rather justify an opposite conclusion. Providence has clearly assigned to the one sex the forensick, to the other the domestick occupations; and before so obvious a difference of destination can be overlooked, not only must all right principles and feelings be abandoned, but the essence of things must

almost be changed. Till this crisis occurs, women will be the tutelary powers of domestick and social enjoyment; and so long, if there be any truth in the foregoing reflections, they will retain their present agrémens. To embellish their minds, therefore, with an ampler furniture of knowledge would only confer on them the means of decorating with additional effect their proper sphere; for the muses can never, of themselves, be at war either with the graces or with the virtues.

And yet, after all, there must be an original susceptibility in the female mind, which no education can give, and which hardly any could entirely destroy. Suppose a country, in which all the feebler and more ricketty males should be carefully culled out, and instead of being committed to the river, as they would have been in Sparta, should be cooped up in drawing-rooms, secluded from publick affairs, forbidden the gallery of the House of Commons, devoted to the household deities, and in all respects subjected to those laws of conduct, which opinion has, in this country, imposed on women. There can be no rational doubt, but that this order of beings would make a considerable approach to the female character; but surely it would prove but a sorry concern. They would turn out, it is much to be feared, a mere corporation of tailors ; sad men, and worse women.

AURORA.

AURORA was complaining to the gods, that, although she was much praised by men, she was little beloved or visited by them, and least

by those, who loudest sang her praises. "Do not grieve about thy lot, (said the goddess of Wisdom,) is it not the same with me? and then (continued she) look at these

who slight thee, and at the rival whom they prefer. Behold them, as thou passest, floundering in the embrace of laziness, and decaying body and mind; and hast thou not friends, not adorers enow? The whole creation worships thee: all the Flowers awake and cloth them. selves by thy roseate beam in new and bridal beauty. The choir of birds welcome thee, and seem wholly intent on varied arts to charm thy transient presence. The laborious peasant and the industrious sage never disappoint thee; they quaff, from the cup thou offerest, health and strength, repose and life: doubly pleased that they enjoy thee, undisturbed by the prating crowd of sleepy fools. Dost thou consider it as no blessing, that the unworthy are never seen among thy admirers? To be worshipped without profanation, is the highest prize of love among gods and men.

Aurora blushed at her thoughtless murmurs. Let every beauty aspire to her fortune, who equals her in beauty and innocence.

THE OFFSPRING OF MERCY:

AN ORIENTAL TALE.

WHEN the Almighty was about to create man, he summoned before him the angels of his attributes, the watchers of his dominions. They stood in council around his hidden throne. "Create him not," said the angel of Justice," he will not be equitable to his brethren, he will oppress the weaker."-"Create him not," said the angel of Peace," he will manure the earth with human blood, the first born of his race will be the slayer of his brother.""Create him not," said the angel of Truth," he will defile thy sanctuary with falsehood, although thou shouldst stamp on his countenance

thine image, the seat of confidence." So spake the attributes of Jehovah : when Mercy, the youngest and dearest child of the Eternal, arose, and clasping his knees, "Create him, father," said she, " in thy likeness, the darling of thy loving kindness. When all thy messengers forsake him, I will seek, and support, and turn his faults to good. Because he is weak, I will incline his bowels to compassion, and his soul to atonement. When he departs from Peace, from Truth, from Justice, the consequences of his wanderings shall deter him from repeating them, and shall gently lead him to amendment." The Father of all gave ear, and created man, a weak faultering being; but in all his faults the pupil of Mercy, the son of ever active and ameliorating love !Remember thine origin, Oh man ! when thou art hard and unkind towards thy brother, Mercy alone willed thee to be, Love and Pity suckled thee at their bosoms.

THE VINE.

On the day of their creation the trees boasted one to another of their excellence. "Me the Lord planted," said the lofty Cedar, "strength, fragrance, and longevity he bestowed on me."-"The goodness of Jehovah fashioned me to be a blessing," said the shadowy Palm; "utility and beauty he united in my form."

The Apple Tree said,

like a bridegroom among youths, I glow in my beauty amid the trees of the grove." The Myrtle said, "like the rose among briars, so am I amid other shrubs." Thus all boasted, the Olive, the Fig Tree, and even the Fir. The Vine alone drooped silent to the ground. "To me," thought he, "every thing has been refused; I have seither stem,