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In the Hist. Gener. Ind. dec. i. lib. 9. c. 4. p. 296, says, that the old inhabitants of Cuba had a tradition that Noah's curse upon that son, from whom they descended, was that they should be rude, particoloured, and walk on foot, naked while those, whom he blessed, were to have cloaths, ride on horseback, &c.

CHRYSOSTOM-THEOPHYLACT-LACTANTIUS.

These writers contend, that the world is of the shape of a house, because Scripture calls it a tabernacle, and that it is impossible, that the sky can reach to the Antarctic pole, and southern and western regions! See Chrysost. Hom. 14 and 27 in Heb. 6 and 13 in Genes, and 12 ad pop. Antioch. Theophyl. in Heb. 8. Lucian. Firmian. iii, divin. Justit. c. 24.

MAIOLUS.

Maiolus in his Dies Canicul. i. Com. Colloq. 23. p. 520. et seq. et colloq. 18. P. 404. & seg. et p. 422. and Aloys. Cada must. Navigat. 55. say, that there are mountains of loadstone, which draw the nails out of ships, as in the story of Sinbad.

PENEDA-LEIRNUS LEMNIUS GEROPIUS

BECANUS JOHN BAPTISTA PIUS -

CELIUS CALGAGNINUS-AND STE

PHENS.

All these writers maintain that in the Mercator of Plautus, the versoria in the compass need not be confuted.

KIPPINGIUS.

In his Antiq. Roman. 1. 4. c. 4. p. 732. upon the following line of Horace: "Seu malis vetita legibus aleu-says, Alea, id est chartulis pictis! ludere. Thus, in a treatise upon Roman antiquities, making the Romans acquainted with playing cards!

JAMES THE FIRST.

In his Reg. Donun lib. 3. persuades his son, Hairy Prince of Wales not to play at chess, because it required close

attention, which was opposite to the principle of play, which ought to be relaxation, but to indulge in cards where chance prevailed, and there was no art or diligence requisite. An excellent piece of advice in education!

MALVENDA.

In his tract de Antich. ii. c. 15. maintains that, the whole sea is not only na vigable, but has been navigated.

CRANZIUS.

He says that in the north beyond Greenland, the sca becomes innavigable in a day's voyage, because "the ends of the world becoming dark before them, inmane abyssi burathrum reperitur."

JUSTUS LIPSIUS-BASIL. PONTIUS.

Say, that two-headed eagles exactly like those of the Romans, were effigiated in many houses and gates at Chili in Peru. They were idols.

BAPTIST. FULGORIUS-PETER MEXIA.

Say, that ships almost rotten with damp, have been found upon the tops of very high mountains, far inland. Fulgor, Rer. Memor. c. 6. Mexia in Sylea var. Lect. p. 2. c. 13. See also Alex. lib. 5. Gen. c. 9. Maiol. Colloq. v. 1. p. 6. § 18.

COLUMBUS.

Pet. Martyr. Dec. Nov. Orb. 1. i. says, that he had often heard Columbus say, that, when he lauded at Hispaniola, he had found Ophir.

GREGOR. LOPEZ.

He writes, that the people of Sophala, a place in the extremity of Africa, at the Ethiopian sea, abounding in gold mines, have books written in the Indian tongue, which say, that Solomon every third year fetched gold from thence; and that they have mines still called by his name.

PHALLUS.

It is singular, that this indelicate amulet of the Greeks and Romans was found suspended round the necks of the Mexcians. Rodin. Dæmon. l. 3. c. 15. Theatr. Vit. Human. v. 17. l. i. p. S114. So also the Indians adored the Phallus. NIMROD.

He is usually supposed to have been a hunter. But some Glossarists, Hugo, Laurentius, &c. render the passage in Genesis "Nembroth, a stout huuter in the presence of the Lord," an oppressor of men by the permission of God. Jo. Solorzani de Indiur. Jure, l. ii. c. xi. p. 209.

BARONIUS.

Sec

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ON THE

ORIGINAL POETRY.

DEATH OF GENERAL MOORE.

MORN broke the parting clouds of night,
And, dawning on the bloody fight,
Which dy'd Iberia's shore,
Mark'd as the vaunting Frenchmen fled,
Our valiant soldiers bravely led

To fame by gallant Moore!
Amid the battle's rage he flies,
And with a frown the foe defies,
By daring valour bore;
But, ah! he falls among the slain,
Although they fly with fear the plain,
Or yield to gallant Moore!

The warrior dies, but Fame shall tell,
Ere in the arms of Death he fell,

From France he laurels tore;
And English bands most grateful raise
Some stone to tell to future days,
The fame of gallant Moore !
January 23, 1809.

Adieu, blest soul, whose hasty flight away
Tells-Heaven did ne'er display
Such happiness to bless the world with stay;
Death in thy fall betray'd his utmost spite,
His shafts most times are levell'd at the
white;

He saw thy blooming ripeness Time prevent,
And envious grew, and strait his arrow sent;
So buds appearing ere the frosts are past,
Nipt by some unkind blast,

Wither in penance for their forward haste;,
Thus have I seen a morn so bright,

So deck'd with all the robes of light,
As if it scorn'd to think of night,
Which a rude storm ere noon would shroud,
Burying its early glories in a cloud:
The day in funeral blackness mourn'd,
And all to sighs and all to tears is turn'd.
But why do we thy death untimely deem,
Or Fate blaspheme?

We should thy full ripe virtues wrong,
G. W. To think thee young;

For the Monthly Magazine. [The poetry of John Oldham, once so popular that his collective works went through six editions, is now almost forgotten. Taste and morality will not sigh deeply for the loss. Yet, among the satires, there are lines which may deserve transplanting: and, among the Pindarics, there is one,, which carries the manner of Cowley to higher perfection than any other production of that pedantic school, and which may be thought to have served as a model for the Threnodia Augustalis of Dryden.-This poem, pruned into readable limits, is herewith recom mended for your insertion, and thus deserves to be gathered into an Anthology of British Odes. It describes a character of a scarce, not of an unreal class. The extravagance may diminish the credibility but not the ingenuity of the praise. If this smells of the lamp, it is of Aladdin's, which dispatched a genius on its owner's errands beyond the boundaries of nature.-The Ode is inscribed to the memory of Mr. Charles Morwent.]

BEST friend! could my unbounded grief but

rate,

With due proportion thy too cruel fate;
Could I some happy miracle bring forth,
Great as my wishes and thy greater worth,
All Helicon should soon be thine,
And pay a tribute to thy shrine:

The learned sisters all transform'd should be,
No longer nine, but one Melpomene:
Each should into a Niobe relent;
At once the mourner and the monument;
Each should become like Memnon's speaking
tomb:

Tosing thy well-tun'd praise ;

Nor should we fear their being dumb,

Fate, when thy forward gifts she told,
The brisk endowments of thy mind
Forgot thy tale of years, and thought thee old
Scorn'd in the bud to be confin'd,
Outran thy age, and left slow Time behind;
Which made thee reach maturity so soon,
And at first dawn present a full-spread noon;
So thy perfections with thy soul agree;
Both knew no nonage, knew no infancy:
As the first pattern of our race began;
His life in middle age, at birth a perfect man.
Let our just wonder next commence;
How so small room could hold such excel
lence;

Nature was proud when she contriv'd, thy
In thee she labour'd for a name;
frame,
Her curious hand here drew in straits, and
All the perfections scrawl'd on human kind
join'd
Teaching her numerous gifts to be
Crampt in a short epitome;
So stars contracted in a diamond shine,
And jewels in a narrow point confine
The riches of an Indian mine:
Thus subtle artists can

Draw nature's larger self within a span.

Nor were these fruits on a rough soil bestown,
Like gems in rugged quarries thickest sown;,
Good nature and good parts so shar'd thy
mind,

The Muse and Grace were so combin'd,
Twas hard to guess which with more lustre
shin'd.

A genius did thy whole comportment act,
Whose charming complaisance most every
heart attract,

Such a soft air thy well-tun'd sweetness
sway'd;

As told thy soul of harmony was made.
All rude affections that disturbers be,

Thos still wouldst make them vosal with thy That mar or disunite society,

layt

MONTHLY MAG. No. 182.

Were foreigners to thee:

Y

Love only in their sted took up its rest,
Nature made that thy constant guest,
And seem'd to form no other passion for thy
breast.

This made thy courtesy to all extend,
And thee to the whole universe a friend;
The strangers to thy native soil and thee,
No strangers to thy love could be:
Whose bounds were wide as all mortality;
Thy heart no island was disjoin'd,
Like thy own nation, from all human kind;

But 'twas a continent to other countries fixt,

As firm by love, as they by carth annext; Thou scorn'st the map should thy affections guide,

Like theirs who love by dull geography, Friends to whom but by soil they are allied: Thine reach to all beside,

To ev'ry member of the world's great' family; Heaven's kindness only claims a name more general,

Which we the nobler call,

Untoucht the other's string returns the moan,
And gives an echo to each groan.
Let female frailty in fond tears distil,
Who think that moisture which they spill
Can yield relief,

And shrink the current of another's grief; Who hope that breath which they in sighs convey,

Should blow calamities away;
Thine did a manlier form express,
And scorn'd to whine at an unhappiness;
Thou thought'st it still the noblest pity to
redress;

So friendly angels their relief bestow
On the unfortunate below:
Such nature in that generous plant is found,
Whose every breach with balsam does
abound;

And wounds itself to cure another's wound.
Nor didst thou to thy foes less generous

appear,

If any durst that title wear;

They could not offer wrongs so fast,
But what were pardon'd with like haste,

Which walks not earth alone, but is vouch- And by thy acts of amnesty defac'd;

safed to all.

Thou seem'st corrupted with the very power to please;

Only to let thee gratify,

Would bribe and pay thy courtesy ;
Thy kindness by acceptance might be bought,
It for no other wages sought;
No suitors went unsatisfied away,
But left thee more unsatisfied than they;
Brave Titus! here thy portrait find,
And view thy rival in a private mind:
Twas heretofore thy praise,

By acts of goodness to compute thy days.
Not measur'd by the sun's but thy own
kinder rays;

To think each hour out of life's journal lost,
Which could not some fresh favour boast,
And reckon bounties thy best clepsydras.
Yet to the happy might this goodness most
accrue }

Had he who wisht the art how to forget,
Discover'd its new worth in thee,
He had a double value on it set,
And scorn'd th' ignobler art of memory:
No injuries could thee provoke,
Thy softness always dampt the stroke,
As flints on feather-beds are easiest broke.
Be it not thought these godlike qualities
Could stand in need of votaries;
Which heretofore had challeng'd sacrifice.
Each assignation, each converse,
Gain'd thee some new idolaters;
Thy sweet obligingness could supple hate,
And out of it its contrary create;
Its powerful influence made quarrels cease;
And feuds dissolv'd into a friendly peace;
Envy resign'd her force, and vanquish'd
Spite

Became thy speedy proselyte;
Malice could cherish enmity no more;
And those, who were thy foes before,

Somewhat was to the miserable due ;
Thou could'st afflictions from another's breast Now wisht they might adore;

translate,

And foreign grief impropriate;

Whate'er mishap did a known heart oppress,
The same did thine as wretched make;
Like yielding wax, thine did th' impression
take,

And wore its sadness in as lively dress;

Conceive the tender care,

Of guardian angels to their charge assign'd,
Or think how dear to heav'n expiring martyrs

are;

These are the emblems of thy mind,

The only types to show how thou wast kind. So gentle was thy pilgrimage beneath,

A small misfortune scarce could reach thy Time's unheard feet scarce make less noise,

ear,

But made thee give in alms a tear; And when our hearts breath'd their regret in sighs,

Thine with their mournful airs would sympathize,

Throngs of like sighs from its fine fibres croud.

And tell thy grief for our each grief aloud;
Such is the secret sweet conspiracy,
We may between two neighbour lutes descry;
If either by unskilful hand too rudely bent,
las soft complaint in pensive murmers vent,

Or planets gliding in eternal poise;
Life seem'd as calm as its last breath;
A still tranquillity so husht thy breast,
As if some halcyon were its guest,
And there had built her downy nest;
As that unspotted sky,

Where Nile does want of rain supply,
Is free from clouds, from storm is ever free
As that smooth sea,

Which wears the name of Peace,
Still with one even face appears;
And feels no tides to heave it from its place,
No waves to alter the fair form it bears;
So

So thy unvaried mind was always one;
And with such clear serenity still shone,
As caus'd thy little world to seem all tem-
perate zone.

In thee extremes were join'd;
The loftiest and the lowliest mind:
Thus tho' some part of heaven's vast round
Appear but low and seem to touch the ground;
Yet 'tis well known to circle in the spheres,
And truly held to be above the stars.
Thou stoodst at once secure

From all the flattery and obloquy of fame,
Its rough and gentler breath were both to thee
the same :

Nor this could thee exalt, nor that depress

thee lower;

Less the heaven dreads that it should fired be
By the weak flitting sparks that upwards fly;
Less the bright goddess of the night
Fears those loud howlings that revile her light;
Than thou malignant tongues thy worth
should blast,

Which was too great for envy's cloud to
overcast ;

'Twas thy brave method to despise contempt; And make what was the fault the punish

ment:

So clouds, which would obscure the sun, oft
gilded be,

And shades are taught to lend him pageantry;'
So diamonds, when the envious night
Would shroud their splendor, look most
bright,

And from its darkness borrow light.

Fand Pleasure, whose soft magic oft beguiles
Raw, unexperienc'd souls,

And with smooth flattery cajoles,
Could never ensnare thee with her wiles,
Or make thee captive to her soothing smiles;
In vain that pimp of vice essays
To draw thee to her warm embrace.
Thy prudence still the Syren past,
Without being pinion'd to the mast;
Thou didst such ignorance over knowledge
prize,

For thus to he unskill'd is to be wise;
Virtue alone thy actions guided here,
Thou by no other card thy life didst steer;
No sly decay would serve

To make thee from her rigid dictates swerve:
Tay love ne'er thought her worse;
Because thou hadst so few competitors,
Thou could'st adore her when ador'd by none,
Content to be her votary alune ;
Thy generous loyalty

Would ne'er a mercenary be,

But choose to serve her still without a livery;
Fet wast thou not of recompence debarr'd,
But counted honesty its own reward;
Thou didst not wish a greater bliss to accrue,
For to be good to thee was to be happy too;
The secret triumph of thy mind

Which thou in doing well didst always find,
Ware heaven enough, were there none else
design'd.

Thou wast a living system, where were wrote ́
All those high morals which in books are
sought,

Thy practice did more virtues share
Than heretofore the learned Porch e'er knew,
Or in the Stagyrite's scant erhics grew ;
Devout thou wast, as holy hermits are,
Who spend their time in extacy and prayer;
Which in a blush their lives consume;
Modest as infant roses in their bloom,
So chaste, the dead are only more,
Who lie divorc'd from objects and from

'power;

So pure, that if blest saints again could be
Taught innocence, they'd gladly learn of thee.
Thy virtues only thus could fairer be
Advantag'd by the foil of misery;
Thy soul, which hasten'd now to be enlarg'd
And of its grosser load discharg'd,
Began to act above its former rate
And gave a prelude of the unbody'd state:
So dying tapers, near their fall,
When their own lustre lights their funeral,
Contract their strength into one brighter fire,
And in that blaze triumphantly expire;
So the bright globe that rules the skies,
Altho' he gild the air with glorious rise,
Reserves his choicest beams until he dies.
The sharpest pains thou didst with courage

bear,

Beholders seem'd more indispos'd than thee,
And still thy looks so unconcern'd didst wear;
For they were sick in effigy ;

Like some well-fashion'd arch thy patience
stood,

And purchas'd firmness from its greater load; Those shapes of torture, which to view in paint

Would make another faint,

Thou could'st endure in sharp reality,

And smile to feel what others shriek to see:
Those Indians, who their kings by torment

choose,

Could ne'er thy sway refuse;

If he deserves to reign who suffers best,
Had those fierce savages thy patience view'd,
Thy claims had been confest,
They with a crown

Had paid thy fortitude,

And turn'd thy death bed to a throne.

Fate paus'd awhile with wonder struck,
And turned again the dreadful book;
And hop'd she had mistook,

And wisht she might have cut another line;
But dire Necessity
Soon cried 'twas thine,

And bad her give the blow of destiny;
Strait she obeys: the vital powers grow
Too weak to grapple with a stronger foe;
Life's sapt foundation every moment sinks;
Each breath to lesser compass shrinks ;
Last panting gasps grow weaker each rebound,
Like the faint tremblings of a pausing sound;
And doubtful twilight hovers o'er the light,
Ready to usher in eternal night;

Yet

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IN

Go, happy soul, ascend the joyful sky
Prepar'd to shine with your bright company
Go, mount the spangled sphere
And make it brighter by another star;
Yet stop not, 'till thou art swallow'd quite
In the vast unexhausted ocean of delight;
Delight, which there alone in its true essence
is ;

Where saints keep an eternal carnival of bliss,
And spread regales of joy,
Which fill but never clay;

Where pleasures spring for ever new,
Immortal as thyself and boundless too.

PROCEEDINGS OF LEARNED SOCIETIES.

ROYAL SOCIETY OF LONDON. N the second part of the Philosophical Transactions for 1808, Dr. HERSCHELL has published Observations on a late Comet, made with a View to investigate its Magnitude, and the Nature of its Illumination.

The comet, which we have lately observed, says Dr. Herschell, was pointed out to me by Mr. Piggot, who discovered it at Bath the 28th of September; and the first time I had an opportunity of examining it was the 4th of October, when its brightness to the naked eye gave me great hopes to find it of a different construction from many I have seen before, in which no solid body could be discover ed with any of my telescopes.

In the following observatious, my attention has been directed to such phenomena only, as were likely to give us some information relating to the physical condition of the comet: it will therefore not be ex. pected that I should give an account of its motion, which I was well assured would be most accurately ascertained at the Royal Observatory at Greenwich.

The different parts of a comet have been generally expressed by terms that may be fiable to misapprehension, such as the head, the tail, the coma, and the uncleus; for in reading what some authors say of the head, when they speak of the size of the comet, it is evident that they take it for what is often called the nucleus. The truth is, that inferior telescopes, which cannot show the real nucleus, will give a certain magnitude of the comet, which may be called its head; it includes all the very bright surrounding light; nor is the name of the head badly applied, if we keep it to this meaning; and since, with proper restriction, the terms which have been used may be retained, I shall give a short account of my observations of the

comet, as they relate to the above-mentioned particulars, namely, the nucleus, the head, the coma, and the tail, without regarding the order of the time when they were made. The date of each observation, however will be added, that any person who may hereafter be in possession of more accurate elements of the comet's orbit, than those which I have at present, may repeat the calculations in order to obtain a more accurate result.

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Oct. 4. 1807. Ten-feet reflector. The comet has a nucleus, the disk, of which is plainly to be seen.

Oct. 6. 1 examined the disk of the comet with a proper set of diaphragms, in order to see whether any part of it were spurious; but when the exterior light was excluded, so far from appearing larger, as would have been the case with a spurious disk, it appeared rather diminished for want of light; nor was its diameter lessenel when I used only the outside rays of the mirror. The visible disk of the comet therefore is a real one.

Oct. 4. I viewed the comet with dif ferent magnifying powers, but found that its light was not sufficiently intense to bear very high ones. As far as 200 and 300, my ten-feet reflector acted very well, but with 400 and 500 there was nothing

Lained,

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