FI

nourable fpirit, his ardent love, his unfhaken fortitude, we may be allowed to forgive the indiicretions of Albano, or if

we blame him for an error, to drop over his ashes the tear of sympathy and commiferation.

FOR THE EDINBURGH MAGVZINE.

THE LILY AND THE OAK.

A FABLE.

Written at Edinburgh, on the morning of the day appointed for the excifion of a tumour from the author's eye-lid.

Twho have their claffic page attir'd
HESE fages I have much admir'd,
With birds, and beafts, and trees, and flow'rs,
Endu'd with speech and reafoning pow'rs:
I've always found, upon review,
A moral worth attending to.-
A ftranger to their happy skill
And noble arts, yet with good will,
Would humbly follow as he's able,
Fram'd for himself the following fable.

In fnowy robes, a lily dreft,
For many days the border grac'd;
No lily chat e'er fmil'd in May,
Or fip'd the dews of early day,
Or yet embalm'd the ev'ning air,
Seem'd for long life to ftand more fair,
But flow'rs, like men, oft when fecure,
A fad reverfe of fate endure;
Some faid, that in an evil hour
A poifonous infect fmit this flow'r;
Whether by this, or midnight frost,
The tender flow'r its fplendour loft,
No more it wanton'd in the gale,
No more did balmy fcents exhale;
No more with joy, it lifted up,
To hail the morn, its filver cup;
And when the ev'ning fhades return'd,
Its fad decline thus penfive mourn'd:

Alas! and is this all? muft I
Refign all hopes of life and die?
Why did He, who fo largely pours
His bounty forth, deny to flow'rs
Like favours unto others giv❜n-
How dazzling bright the stars of heav'n-
How fwift are birds-the beafts, how
ftrong,-

The age of trees fo wond'rous long,
As muft enfure their happinefs-
But ah how fleeting is our blifs!
In vain our beauties we unfold,
In robes of filver, blue and gold;
Our fairest bells, our sweetest bloom,
Soon fade and find an early tomb.
I hop'd for days of pleasure here
With loving friends and neighbours dear;

Shall I no more pass focial hours
With roses, violets, gillyflow'rs,
And others which this fcene adorn?
How bleft with them to rife at morn,

Pleas'd with each other's lively bloom,
We bleft each other with perfume.
Muft I no more among them shine,
And all my hopes and joys refign!
Great Arbiter of Fate, grant me,
Thefe buds, which from my root arise,
A dying fire, the joy to fee
Unfold their beauties to the fkies.

No farther could the lily go
For bursts of keen parental woe.

Not far remote, a stately oak
Heard every word the lily fpoke.
For age, experience, this tree,
Had much deferv'd celebrity;
He ftrange viciffitudes had seen,
Yet cheerful, patient, and ferene;
Whatever wind or feafon came,

In fun and fhade was much the fame;
Whether with leafy honours crown'd,
Or when bereav'd, these ftrow'd the ground;
With firmness bore from age to age,
The winter's ftorms, the tempeft's rage.
In pity to the flow'r that mourn'd,
The oak the following fpeech return'd:
Poor drooping flow'r, thy griefs restrain,
Nor Providence Supreme, arraign,
Whofe paths are wife and good, tho' we
Their end fhould be denied to fee.
It ill becomes a favour'd flow'r
Such difcontented ftreams to pour;
Thy form, thy place, thy rife, thy fall,
He fix'd, who thee from duft did call;
Who these gay robes array'd thee in,
For which thou didst not toil nor fpin;
In finest foil he nurs'd thee up,

Each morn with dew refresh'd thy cup;
At noon-day fann'd thy fainting head,
Whilft thousand flow'rs that crown'd the
mead,

Or cloth'd the plains in early life,
Have fall'n before the reaper's knife;
Didft thou not fee the Snow-drop fade?
The Crocus number with the dead:
Thou must not count it a difgrace
To be in an afflicted cafe.

That heav'nly plant fair Sharon's rofè,
Was well acquaint with grief and woes,
Long e'er thine age he reach'd on earth,
The fragrant flow'r was set in death.

Without distrust, thy unblown buds
Refign to Him who cloathes the woods,
The earth, the skies, all nature's frame,
He has enough for thee for them.
See other flow'rs begin to bloom,
In radient robes with rich perfume,
Auriculus, Carnations blow,
And fragrant rofes yet fhall grow;
With these thy tender buds fhall share,
Our common parent's guardian care,
With languid eye and fickly bloom,
Why shouldst thou tremble at the tomb?
Since death is no remed'less thing,
Each winter's followed by a fpring;
Thefe finer juices of thy frame,

Go to the root from whence they came;
And when they're all collected there,
'Twill be thy gen'rous master's care -
To lodge thee in fome bleft alcove,
Whilft winter's wafting tempefts rove ;
This garden through;-but when no more
Fierce winter frowns, when rains are o'er,
A fun shall rise in glory.bright,
Each flumb'ring flow'r fhall call to light;
Then fields, and trees, and flow'rs fall fing,
In conftant bloom through endless spring.

Thus far the Oak, and all the while
The Lily heard, then with a smile
Addrefs'd the venerable tree:
Kind friend, I'm much oblig'd to thee;
Thefe facred fentiments exprefs'd,
Have footh'd to peace this anxious breast:
No more envious I repine,

Nor quarrel with the will divine;
I kifs the rod, beneath it bow,

I bless my God ;-kind friend, adieu.

Thus, far from home, the rustic stranger fung,

While clouds of death upon his eye-lid hung,
On the eventful day to chear his heart,
Till Ruffell, mafter of the healing art,
Should come
to cut, with well-directed

knife, The fore that lours upon the fprings of life. Ed. Mag. March 1797.

O Coventry! who all the produce knows
On nature's variegated lap that grows,
Of tow'ring genius, and of feeling foul,
O come, thou canft my anxious fears con-
troul :

Thy prefence all the fympathies will pour,
Of friend and brother in the trying hour.
O Anderfon! of vaft capacious mind,
Of philanthropic heart, of tafte refin'd,
For genius, learning, far is spread thy fame,
I've oft with heart-felt joy pronounc'd thy

name;

Sure thou wilt come, affuredly I know, The Mufe's darling is a friend in woe. But chief let Him, who all things can con troul,

By whom this eye-ball and thefe planets roll,

Be prefent, and on this great business smile, And all my fears and all my cares beguile. He, with a word, difarm'd collected forms, And heal'd difeafe in all its wretched forms. He pour'd bland day on eyes in darkness feal'd,

O may he come, and fo I fhall be heal'd!→→→→ My Ruffell guide in his attempts to cure, What knife to wield, what healing balm to pour;

Fresh laurels add to his well-earned fame, That I, in health, for him may bless thy

Mr James Ruffell.

Dr Robert Anderfon.

Illum'd his wrinkled brow; a ftaff his guide,

His wafted form low bending to the earth.

"I fpoke-he deeply figh'd; on days long paft

A gleam of recollection feem'd to dwell; A mournful hesitating look he cast,

"O fatal was the time, when o'er thè land,

Which erft fupported many an humble fwain,

Monopoly ftretch'd forth its grasping hand, The lord-like tenant of a wide domain.

"Still does too faithful memory difclofe, As oft' thefe alter'd fields I wander o'er, Where the fmall decent village-farm arofe, The modeft neighbour of the humble poor.

"Where from the low roof'd barn toward the street,

The well-ftraw'd yard before the windows fpread,

From cold and pining want a fnug retreat, Where the fmall household flock fecurely fed.

The focial chain is broke-the link is gone.

"Proud property now lords it o'er the plain;

Behold the painted chariot roll along,
The wealthy mafter of a menial train,

well.

Behold the well-ftock'd yard, though

far withdrawn,

Left it offend Refinement's nicer eye,
To yield precedence to the turfy lawn;
Does it not ev'ry luxury supply?

"E'en the fleek horfes fhow their maf

ter's wealth;

Here man alone seems deftin'd to repine;
Broken alike in fpirit, and in health,
I almoft with their ftate for me and mine.

"How happy once the careless life I led! Long pafs'd-yet ftill to weeping mem❜ry dear,

When fweet content with ev'ry moment fled, That brought that wing'd-that clos'd the rolling year:

"My path was humble, but that path I

trod

Without a hope, without a wifh, to climb; Thankful receiv'd each bleffing Heav'n bestow'd,

And felt, but mourn'd not at the flight of time.

"Happy my fmiling family to view, Around me labour, and around me play, When darkness from the dewy fields with drew,

When grateful twilight brought the clofe of day.

"Then liv'd our ancient lord; content at home,

Amid his friends and tenants to refide, No weeping eye in winter faw him roam To diftant fcenes of luxury and pride.

“Ah little know the gay unthinking

"Look at these rags! and need I tell

the reft!

Their ancient lord, their benefactor gone, Our fwains by petty tyrants were opprefs'd, And foon oppreflion brought their ruin on.

"Our rents exacted by a rigid hand, Our flender wealth by adverfe feafons drain'd,

Monopoly bid high for all our land;
And what for us but pining want remain'd?

"My younger children cannot earn their bread,

Nor aught these aged wither'd hands can fave;

In vain for us the plains with plenty fpread, The country blooms a garden and a grave

"Perhaps, 'tis true, that he who wealth commands,

By the large efforts of expensive toil,
May cloathe with livelier grain the waving

lands,

Depriv'd of these their friends, the meaner poor,

Untaught, unfed, by hopeless toil deprést, Shall tread the path of honest fame no more:

"Bound by no tender tie, their native

fpot

Soon fhall they quit, to them each place the fame,

In diffipation live, and die forget,

Nor leave a child who bears its father's name!

"And fhould the country's population fail,

Far diftant be the melancholy day!

How little will the hoards of wealth avail

To prop the baseless pile that finks away!

"Ye fons of fortune, hither turn your eyes,

Do not reject the suppliant's folemn pray'r
Till all too late, by fad experience wife,
Ye curfe the evils ye are doom'd to fhare.

"As your's the pow'r, be your's the will

to fave,

Let proud monopoly opprefs no more, Nor let them fink neglected to the grave, Who liv'd your father's humble friends of yore. "Your

"Your fmile fhall foon its wonted pow'r impart,

Like funbeams o'er the weeping landscape thrown,

The emanations of a noble heart
Not born, nor beating for itself alone,

STATE

Official Documents of the Négociation for Peace between Great Britain and France; as prefented to the two House's of Parliament.

M.

[Continued from p. 149-]

DELACROIX affected to treat any deviation from the treaty of peace concluded between France and that country, or any reftoration of territories acquired under that treaty to France, as quite impracticable. He treated as equally impracticable any attempt at reftoring the ancient form of government in the Seven United Provinces. He talked with an air of triumph of the establishment of a National Convention at the Hague, and with an affectation of feeling, that by it the caufe of freedom had extended itself over fuch a large number of people. He, however, was ready to confefs, that from the great lof fes the Dutch Republic had fuftained in its colonies, and particularly from the weak manner in which they had defended them, it could not be expected that his Majefty would consent to a full and complete reftitution of them, and that it was reafonable that fome should be facrificed; and he asked me if I could inform him how far our views extended on this point?-I said I had reason to believe that what his Majefty would require, would be poffeffions and fettlements which would not add either to the power or wealth of our Indian dominions, but only tend to fecure to us their safe and unmolefted poffeffion. You mean by this, faid M. Delacroix, the Cape and Trincomalé? I said, they certainly came under that defcription; and I faw little profpect of their being reftored to the Dutch. M. Delacroix launched forth on this into a most laboured differtation on the value of the Cape of Good Hope, which he did not confider at all as a port de relache, but as a poffeffion which, in our hands, would become one of the most fertile and most productive colonies in the Eaft; and, according to his eftimation of it, he did not fcruple to affert, that it would ultimately be an acquifition of infinitely greater importance

"E'en in the humble peasant's low-roof'd cell

Once more fhall plenty then her fcenes expand, While ev'ry grateful breast with pride shall fwell,

To hail the faviours of a drooping land !''

to England than that of the Netherlands to France; and, if acquiefced in, fhould be reckoned as a full and ample com pensation for them.

He added, "If you are mafters of the Cape and Trincomale, we fhall hold all our fettlements in India, and the islands of France and Bourbon, entirely at the tenure of your will and pleasure; they will be ours only as long as you chufe we fhould retain them. You will be fole mafters in India, and we shall be entirely dependent upon you." I repeated to him, that it was as a means of defence, not of offence, that thefe poffeffions would be insisted on; and that, if the matter was fairly and difpaffionately difcuffed, he would find that they afforded us a great additional fecurity, but no additional power of attack, even if we were difpofed to difturb the peace of that part of the world. If these, and perhaps fome few other not very material fettlements belonging to the Dutch, were to be infifted upon, and if he would be pleased to ennumerate all we should still have to reftore to them, while they had nothing to reflore to England, it was impoffible not to confider the terms on which his Majefty propofed peace to Holland as generous and liberal.

M. Delacroix was not at all disposed to agree with me on this point; and faid, Holland, ftript of thefe poffeffions would be ruined; he then held out, but as if the hint had juft croffed his mind, the poffibility of indemnifying the Dutch for their loffes in India, by giving them a tract of territory towards the Meufe, (1 could not find out whether he meant Aix-la-Chapelle, Liege, or the countries of Juliers and Berg,) and hinted, that if this was not to be done, an additional fugar island might, perhaps, be ceded to the Dutch Republic. I told him all this might become a fubject of future difcuffion; and I concluded, that if we could agree upon the most effential points, the treaty would not break off on these secondary confiderations.

Our converfation had now been extremely long, and M. Delacroix ended by faying, that, although he had taken

upon