Ως χρονος εσθ' ηβης και βιοτοί ολιγος θνητοις. But my choice, my pursuit, my enjoyment on earth

was asked [From Ackerman's Repository of Arts, Fashions,' &c.] may weigh any weight from one to forty pounds.

FOR THE IRIS.

THE WAY TO LIVE.

Atticus (for that is my friend's name) was the son of regular and exemplary parents, who did their part in superintending his childhood, and in rightly forming his habits. As soon as he became possessed of the use of reason or judgement, (for I reckon little of the preceding period), he applied himself to this design of living while be lived, and of steering a course conformable to the combined relations of virtue and happiness. He meant not stoically to debar himself the enjoyments of life, but to crop them passing along as they lay beside him; not to make them the objects of his journey, or to dwell on them too long or too intensely. Taking then a comprehensive view into future consequences which was little to be expected at an age so green and tender, he saw at once the propriety of applying himself to the acquisition of information in its most general sense. He listened with deference to the precepts of his tutors, he sought for instruction by questions upon every point that occurred to him, and he imbibed, with a docility of a sacred and venerating cast, the great and lasting principles of religion which were addressed to him. He was at the same time obedient to his natural and adopted parents and instructors, and cherished a kind and ingenuous affection beyond that which duty requires. His general character, at this early period of his life, was marked by diffidence and good nature, a voracious appetite for reading, and a scrupulous care of the books which contributed, either in school or at leisure hours, to his improvement.

"

I

is called, early; and often repeats his conviction of the uselessness of single life, and the increased value and importance, as well as respectability, conferred on a man by marriage, in the relations of society. With the prospects then which he possessed, and at the age of two and twenty, whither did he direct his eyes?-To a lady distinguished for beauty and fairness of complexion-to the lineal representative of an ancient family known in the records of hereditary grandeur? to the heiress of vast possessions and untold wealth?—No. I feel a proud triumph in being able to assert, that my friend, in his choice of a consort, disregarded the petty considerations of worldly policy, and looked only to purity of heart, stability of principle, and ornament of mind. He made a de claration of his sentiments to a lady of this character, which, as he had been known and respected before his attentions presented him as an object of love, was accepted and returned.

the delicacy of refinement, the polish of manner, and the humanity in feeling, to which it gives birth; while he ruled with an iron hand its excesses, and restrained, during the continuance of present impediments, the impetuosity and the fire which mark its character. "Let be," said he, till prudence warI have a friend advanced in years, whose life pre- rants and fortune favours, till the frame receives sents so much of the pleasing and the instructive, and strength, and the mind acquires vigour and confiexhibits a character so consistent with the purposes dence, the indulgence of the passion which I perfor which it is demonstrable the Creator bestowed it,ceive within me. The feeling will not be extinthat I shall conceive I am performing a not unaccep- | guished or impaired by the delay, nor lose any thing table office, in introducing it to public notice. When of either its brilliancy or ardour, while it is really the ways of living are so various, when so many increased in its resources, and improved by moderfalse lights are thrown out, and when an anomalous ation. Meanwhile frown not on the gentle emotions refinement in learning has perverted the right way, of nature, or the blandishments of life, only regard or offered in itself a new one, the man who points that while you encourage the suavity and gentleness, out the true and legitimate path, and establishes the you sink not in the effeminacy of love. I will means recommended upon sure, easy, and undevi- not blast," he added, "the formation of an attachating rules, does a service to society at large. In ment for some deserving object, even during the pethis, as in all other cases, examples are more effica- riod at which I am really subject to others, since The sober age of forty now stamped my friend's cious than precepts. it will refine my thoughts and stimulate my exertions; history; and behold him a man possessed of strength but I will forbear making any disclosure or declara- of body and vigour of intellect, and standing, as it tion of my love, till I am established in business, and were, in the very prime of life. He was the father have the prospect of competence before me." of a family which would generally be considered dwell with the greater minuteness on the sentiments large, but to which his industry was adequate, and and conduct of my friend in this particular, because which conduced to shed an additional lustre over his it is one on which it is most important that right character as a member of the community. It had opinions should be held. He now perceived, too, the been at once his greatest care and highest delight necessity of guarding against the attractions held out to train them in principles which he knew would seby the speculative and glowing plans of the moment, cure their permanent good; and the influence of his and against suffering his judgement to elope with the bright example continually before their eyes, gave an gay and gawdy objects which indeed flatter the ima-efficacy to his precepts, which alone they could not gination, and win the heart of youthful enthusiasm, have attained. The economy of his family was a but seduce the attention to shadows from the sub-model of good management, regularity, and prustantial realities of life. A man must live, and act, dence; no levity, no envy, no obstinacy, no waste of and make a respectable appearance in society, but he time, no squandering were found there. He was as need not glitter in the sun, or flutter about, or com- hospitable as he was discreet and domestic; he repose declamations. My young friend's situation was lieved, therefore, the train of business, by the occaone belonging to mediocrity; he saw it and profited. sional company of some friends, selected from those He had been put to an occupation which requires whom he could most approve. His manner of giving much mechanical labour, as well as intellectual ap- an entertainment was strikingly delicate, and worthy plication. He devoted, therefore, to the service of of admiration. His manners were always pleasing his employers, that proportion of his time which was and affable, and his mind being filled with the their due, and laid down the most prudent plans for choicest stores of classic elegance, and his taste the employment of those hours which were at his liberalized by the most gentlemanly sentiments, were own disposal. The study of the business in which diffused through all his actions with a delicacy and he was engaged, was his primary object, from which effect that invariably won the hearts of his guests. he suffered nothing to divert him next to that he His conduct was marked by a watchfulness to supply allowed himself to beguile the cares of life, by all their wants, and by an equal attention to their catching up the literary pleasures that floated round feelings with regard to any thing that was unpleasant his path. to them. He never pressed them with rudeness to Manhood came, and with it the steadiness, the firm-replenish their glasses to an excess that violated their ness, the consistency of character, and the habitual integrity of mind, which make a member of society, at this period, truly respectable. Atticus had now completed the institutional plans of youth; had laid the foundation of knowledge, and entered on a line of life which held out the prospect of independence, and turned to his own benefit the acquirements and the maxims which he had derived, while engaged in the service of his former masters. With a good business in his hands, and a heart overflowing with benevolence and love, he turned his attention to the subject which had long been nearest his heart, of calling some dear object by the name of wife. He had some time since formed an attachment, which, as founded on virtue, was deeply engrafted in his heart, but which, if fortune proved unpropitious, he intended not to disclose, relying on the energies of his nature to conquer it in his own soul, and resolving not to wound the peace of an innocent lady, by prematurely involving her in the same hopeless situation with himself. He was a sworn foe to the cold and calculating doctrine which advises to wait till fortune has principally realized the expectations of life; till the glow of passion is extinct, and till advancing years have cooled the temperament, and sobered the sensations of the breast. He cheerfully acceded to the maxim, that late marriages make early orphans; and he knew the difficulty with which, at the age of thirty, the tastes and habits of two persons accommodate themselves, and the affection of the husband is brought exclusively to centre in the wife He resolved to begin the world, as it

As his childhood grew, and his years exulted in having brought him with safety over the second climacteric of life, his ideas proportionately expanded; and while he congratulated himself on the direction which his early pursuits had received, he looked forward with new vigour, to plans proposed for the continuance of so laudable a system. He persisted in applying himself to the great and useful branches of learning; he attached himself to science, laid the ground-work of natural philosophy, and made the attainment of solid information his principal object. To this he intended to devote his labours, prior to any attempt at the ornaments of character, which require a prepared basis; and, like the gilded devices in the province of art, can not be stuck, with any firmness, upon a body that is not already

hard and solid.

As he advanced from this period to the third stage of life described by Shakespeare, and which is the bridge standing between boyhood and adult life, he first felt the gentle alarms of our nature, which startle the unsuspecting boy, and puzzle him with reflections on the cause of so strange an influence as that which he acknowledges in the company of the other sex. He did not forbid access to its first approaches, though he investigated the claim which it had to the entire possession of his mind. When he saw it, as I conceive it truly is, a feeling justified by nature in its origin, and entitled to respect by the designs for which it had existence, but requiring the controul of reasou, and subservient to custom, the laws, and sound prudence, he determined to cherish

taste, or put their health in jeopardy. The words with which he was in the habit of prefacing his bounteous repasts, were generally such as these :—" Gentlemen, I have invited you from personal esteem to enliven my board this evening, and my efforts will be directed to making it as thoroughly pleasing to you as possible. Liberty is the watchword here; every gentleman must consider himself at perfect ease, and take as much as he pleases, without exercising any compulsion on his neighbour. I shall be happy to propose any number of toasts and sentiments in succession, and assist in the circulation of the joke and the circulation of the bottle, as long as reason justifies us. Some constitutions are suited to take more" than others, and I should wish all to be satisfied; but when our entertainment has reached a certain height, you must excuse me if I omit to drink to the toasts that may be proposed. I will sit resolutely at your head, and partake in your mirth, and my cellars shall be at your service to the utmost extent; only as I mean to make you free agents here, you must be so kind as to leave me in possession of the same freedom." I need not say that this conduct procured him the admiration and love of his guests.

Atticus is now, ordinarily speaking, in the decline of life; he has lost the great and overwhelming strength of manhood, and the sportiveness of youth; but he retains all his faculties, his senses are unimpaired, his constitution is sound and healthful. Having been uniformly temperate, for he never remembers being in a state of intoxication, his frame is vigorous, and his brain unclouded, and he seldom

feels the symptoms of illness or decay. His senility exhibits more of the calm and quiet stillness of the evening of life, than the records of real existence generally afford. He still, however, lives to active purposes, displays the same observance of method in his actions, and relaxes in none of the higher duties of social-intercourse.

Such a man, who has spent his life in the constant employment of time, in the performance of important trusts, and with an uniform attention to the dictates of conscience, may well be said to have lived up to the designs of his MAKER, and to have existed to some purpose. Had he been cut off in the very prime of his days, his life, though short in the numeral proportions of time, would have been remembered as one long in virtue, and have been proposed as an example to some who, in the course of an extended existence, spend two years with as little to mark them as one, and fall into the grave at last, leaving nothing to preserve their memory among their descendants.

Bene vivere vivere bis est,

DOMINIC.

THE POVERTY OF GENIUS.

THE Spaniards say, that poverty is not in itself a vice, but that it borders very closely upon one,' our poet has gone farther, he tells us

Poverty is the only vice we own.'

The truth is, that if poverty be not criminal, it frequently excites those who have not fortitude to withstand temptations, to be guilty of crimes in order to alleviate their distresses. It too often prevents men of real genius succeeding in those pursuits for which they seem destined by nature; whilst it eclipses the most brilliant virtues, and may be considered as the grave of the greatest projects. It stifles in their very birth the noblest ideas, and covers with contempt the finest sentiments of the soul; for the greatest and most shining parts are thereby often interred among the living, or rather buried alive in the obscurity of distress. What light can issue from a taper, enclosed

in a clouded lanthorn?

Dum dives loquitur, verbum Salomonis habetur.
Dam pauper loquitur, tunc barbarus esse videtur.

The poets have very fancifully conceived that the muses are virgins, because they are generally so poor, that they have not portions to recommend them to husbands. As a proof of this, Homer was compelled to go about the streets, and recite his verses for bread. Plautus, the comic poet, got his livelihood by turning a mill-stone. Xilander, the Greek, sold his notes upon

Dyonisius Cassius for a mess of pottage. Sigismund Gelenius, Lelius Gregorius, Giraldi, Ludovicus Castelvetre, the bishop of Userius, and many more, died in indigent circumstances. The famous Agrippa ended his days in an hospital. Paul Borghese, the Italian poet, knew fourteen different trades, and could not get bread. Michael Cervantes, the ingenious author of Don Quixote, died for want at Seville, where his tomb may still be seen. Cardinal Bentivoglio, the ornament of Italy and the Belles Lettres, did not leave enough to bury him. Vaugelas, the great French genius, lived at Paris in the hotel of Soissons, whither he had retired, as to an asylum, to avoid his merciless creditors. The divine Milton was obliged

*

to sell Paradise Lost for ten pounds. Dryden, one
of the most sublime poets this or any other country
ever produced, felt the effects of poverty. Otway,
our greatest tragic genius after Shakespeare, lived
and died in the utmost distress; and Lloyd departed
this life in the Fleet.

Many others might be enumerated, amongst the
first rate geniuses, who, notwithstanding their merit,
their capacity, nay their virtues, have perished liter-
ally for want, surrounded by the greatest misery.

How shall we reconcile this with that celebrated
thought of Varro, Dii laboribus omnia vendunt, faci-
entes Deus adjuvet?' Might we not rather say with
Brutus, Oh! virtue, I cultivated thee as a divinity;
but, alas! I find thou art nought but an empty
sound.'

I think I have read somewhere, that the reason why
we more readily assist the lame and the blind than a
poor man of genius, is, that every one is sensibly
affected with the apprehension of those calamities;
whilst few, if any, are in the least dread of the
accidents incident to merit.

Feb. 21st. 1822.

PETER KLAUS.

ZENO.

The Legend of the Goatherd.-Rip Van Winkle.

The following legend is offered to our readers, not
only on the score of its intrinsic merit, but as being
the undoubted source from which Geoffrey Crayon
drew his hip Van Winkle.

ing's Popular Tales, page 327, where it is followed
This story of The Goatherd is to be found in Büsch-
by a second legend on the same subject; both have
reference to the celebrated Emperor Frederick Bar-
barossa, who, in fact, is the subject of many a winter's
and the same source. According to this primal story,
tale amongst the Germans, but all springing from one
the Emperor once took refuge, with a party of his
followers, in the Kyffhäusen mountains, where he
still lives, though under the influence of magic. Here
table, supporting his head on his hands, and in a
he sits, with his friends, on a bench before a stone
state of apparent slumber. His red beard has grown
through the table down to his feet; while his head
nods and his eyes twinkle, as if he slept uneasily or
were about to wake. At times this slumber is inter-
rupted, but bis naps are, for the most part, tolerably
long, something about a hundred years' duration. In
his waking moments, he is supposed to be fond of
music, and amongst the numerous tales to which his
magic state has given rise, there is one of a party of
musicians, who thought proper to treat him with a
regular concert in his subterranean abode. Each was
rewarded with a green bough, a mode of payment so
offensive to their expectations, that upon their return
kept the bough only as a memorial of the adventure,
to earth, all flung away his gifts, save one, and he
without the least suspicion of its value; great, how-
ever, was his surprise, when, upon showing it to his
wife, every leaf was changed into a golden dollar.

But even the first tale of the Emperor's prolonged
slumber can hardly be deemed original; and perhaps,
to speak it fairly, is nothing more than a popular
version of The Seven Sleepers, not a little disfigured
by time and the peculiar superstitions of the country.
It is, indeed, surprising how small a stock of original
matter has sufficed for all the varieties of European
legend; the sources are remarkably few to him who
has sufficient knowledge of the subject to follow up
the various streams to their fountain head; and it is
a task which, if ably executed, might prove both
curious and instructive.

PETER KLAUS was a Goatherd of Sittendorf, and

tended his flocks in the Kyffhäusen mountains; here he was accustomed to let them rest every evening in muster of them; but for some days he had remarked a mead surrounded by an old wall, while he made his that one of his finest goats always disappeared some time after coming to this spot, and did not join the flock till late watching her more attentively, he observed that she slipped through an opening in the wall, upon which he crept after the animal, and found her in a sort of cave, busily employed in gleaning the oatgrains that dropped down singly from the roof. He looked up, shook his ears amidst the shower of corn that now fell down upon him, but with all his enquiry could discover nothing. At last he heard above, the stamp and neighing of horses, from whose mangers it was probable the oats had fallen.

Peter was yet standing in astonishment at the sound of horses in so unusual a place, when a boy appeared who by signs, without speaking a word, desired him to follow. Accordingly he ascended a few steps and passed over a walled court into a hollow, closed in on all sides by lofty rocks, where a partial twilight shot through the over-spreading foliage of the shrubs. Here, upon a smooth, fresh lawn, he found twelve knights playing gravely at nine-pins, and not one spoke a syllable; with equal silence Peter was installed in the office of setting up the nine-pins.

At first he performed this duty with knees that knocked against each other, as he now and then stole a partial look at the long beards and slashed doublets of the noble knights. By degrees, however, custom gave him courage; he gazed on every thing with firmer look, and at last even ventured to drink out of a bowl that stood near him, from which the wine exhaled a most delicious odour. The glowingjuice made him feel as if re-animated, and whenever he found the least weariness, he again drew fresh vigour from the inexhaustible goblet. Sleep at last overcame him.

Upon waking, Peter found himself in the very same enclosed mead where he was wont to tell his herds. He rubbed his eyes, but could see no sign either of dog or goats, and was, besides, not a little astonished at the high grass, and shrubs, and trees which he had never before observed there. Not well knowing what to think, he continued his way over all the places that he had been accustomed to frequent with his goats, him he saw Sittendorf, and, at length, with hasty but no where could he find any traces of them; below steps he descended.

The people whom he met before the village, were all strangers to him; they had not the dress of his acquaintance, nor yet did they exactly speak their language, and, when he asked after his goats, all stared and touched their chins. At last he did the same almost involuntarily, and found his beard lengthened by a foot at least, upon which he began to conclude that himself and those about him were equally under the influence of enchantment; still he recognised the mountain he had descended, for the Kyffhäusen; the houses too, with their yards and gardens, were all familiar to him, and to the passing questions of a traveller, several boys replied by the name of Sittendorf.

With increasing doubt he now walked through the village to his house: It was much decayed, and before it lay a strange goatherd's boy in a ragged frock, by whose side was a dog worn lank by age, then entered the cottage through an opening which that growled and snarled when he spoke to him. He had once been closed by a door; here too he found all so void and waste that he tottered out again at the back door as if intoxicated, and called his wife and children by their names; but none heard, none answered.

In a short time, women and children thronged around the stranger with the long hoary beard, and all, as if for a wager, joined in enquiring what he wanted. Before his own house to ask others after his wife, or children, or even of himself, seemed so strange, that, to get rid of these querists, he mentioned the first name that occurred to him; "Kurt Steffen?" The bye-standers looked at each other in silence, till at last an old woman said; He has been in the churchyard these twelve years, and you'll not go there today." "Velten Meier?" "Heaven rest his soul!"

replied an ancient dame, leaning upon her crutch; "Heaven rest his soul! He has lain these fifteen years in the house that he will never leave."

The Goatherd shuddered, as in the last speaker he recognised his neighbour, who seemed to have suddenly grown old; but he had lost all desire for farther question. At this moment a brisk young woman passed through the anxious gapers, carrying an infant in her arms, and leading by the band a girl of about fourteen years old, all three the very image of his wife. With increasing surprise he asked her name: "Maria!"" And your father's?"-" Peter Klaus! Heaven rest his soul! It is now twenty years since we sought him day and night on the Kyffhäusen mountains, when his flock returned without him; I was then but seven years old."

ter's arms.

that it commemorates the death of some chieftains,
slain at a battle in Scotland, probably the one fought
anno. 1037, in the reign of Duncan, at Drumilaum,
now Drumlaw, in Fifesbire, where his general
Banquo, defeated Sweyn King of Norway, and slew
many of his chiefs. It is related in the Rerum
Scoticarum Historia Georgii Buchanani, lib. vii.
This, to me, is confirmed by the text itself. Hi
fere primores gentis erant; reliqui facile ad naves com-
pulsi. Bancho magna pecunia cœsorum sepulturam
vendidisse dicitur, quorum sepulchra aiunt adhuc in
Now Sir, the Emona
Æmona insula ostendi.'

TO THE EDITOR.

SIR, I have been favoured through the medium of the Iris, with a Criticism upon my Lectures, by one of my auditors, who has substituted for his name the term 'PHILANTHROPOS.' With your permission, I beg leave to inform your correspondent, through the medium of the same Miscellany, that on the most careful examination, I can find no analogy between I am open to conviction, and always prefer truth to the spirit of his strictures and his signature. But as victory, if he thinks proper to give his real name and address, he is at perfect liberty to point out to the insula' where these chiefs were buried, is the pre-public all the obscurities, and the false Philosophy The Goatherd could contain himself no longer; "I sent Inch-Colme, or Columb's Isle, situated at the which he observed in my Lectures, reserving to am Peter Klaus," he cried, "I am Peter Klaus, and I take CEMOR. E. none else," and he snatched the child from his daugh-æstuary of the Forth. myself however, the liberty of replying; and if I All for a moment stood as if petrified, I NA N.' to be the identical spot, but corrupted to cannot demonstrate the truth of the philosophy I have till at length one voice, and another, and another, ex- Inch-Colme. The ARON.' can only mean the advanced, I hope I shall find no difficulty in acknowexclaimed, Yes, this is Peter Klaus! Welcome, Forth, as the River Carron runs by Stirling. I neighbour!-Welcome after twenty years!' ledging my obligation to your correspondent, for would read, FARON,' as being its true name. pointing out my errors. I also suspect that by DINGLIESH E,' is meant the distinguished chief who carried the REFA ON,'-Refain, or great military standard of the Danes, as we find Alfred the Great captured one from them. It is likely that the Scottish cognomen of Dalgleish is derived from the above name. This alteration of names has been prevalent in every language-I will only give a few of rivers from the Latin.-Scotland, Glotta, now the Clyde Lutea, the Lochty Taichus, the Teith. England, Avus, the Ouse: Sabrina, the Severn: France, Matrona, the Marne Ligeris, la Loire. Spain, Iberus, the Ebro. I could refer your readers to many others. Buchanan afterwards relates the appearance of the three Weird Sisters to Macbeth; they were no doubt beautiful, and of no common appearance. fœminas forma augustiore quam humana,' so that Mr.

TO THE EDITOR.

The philosophical adventure on the Horizontal Moon, with which he has charged me, and which forcibly struck him as original, is by no means mine. It appears in many Scientific works of the first celebrity, and if any deference is due to authority, the opinion which he is combating is DR. BREWSTER'S.

SIR, The inscription of Mr. Jeremy Antiq. in your last number, has pleased as well as puzzled me a good deal. I have, from early youth, devoted much time to the prosecution of that delightful study. Many a time and oft,' have I pored over an old inscription, till I could scarcely discern a single letter, endeavouring to find out the proper connection between each sentence,-to ascertain the probable meaning,- -or else, if unable to do this, giving a loose run to my imagination, in order to supply a lamentable hiatus, that now and then (as if on purpose) appeared to vex me. This has been done, con amore, and no one, but a professed antiquarian can conceive the exulting joy which arises, when the efforts of perhaps weeks are crowned with success. Jeremy Antiq.'s supposition in note d, is probably doubt but society may thus derive considerable benefit

correct.

March 4th, 1822.

Yours,

TO THE EDITOR,

"That melancholy bell

Proclaimed his funeral.'

< Tres

I am aware that there are persons in Manchester well able to instruct me, both in Philosophy and Elocution; but as it is universally acknowledged, that in teaching Elocution, example is infinitely superior to precept, and as PHILANTHROPOS appears extremely anxious for my improvement, if he will oblige me, by going through the illustrations in any of my proposed Lectures, in that accurate and elegant manner which is so necessary to set off a public lecture, (and to which I have no pretensions,) I will cheerfully and willingly become his auditor, and I have little

R. P. B.

from the effects of his example.

I am, yours, &c.

It is matter of regret that Mr. Jer. Antiq. has not
stated where the inscription was found, whether
copied from stone or from metal,-if the letters were
much defaced, or if the periods (·) marked in his
copy, were in the original. Antiquarians know, that
all ancient inscriptions are in Uncial or Capital letters,
without stop or break between the words. My opinion
on the subject is, that these points are the remains of
letters, but effaced by the injuries of time, and I
SIR. In reading over your valuable miscellany,
shall prove this, by shewing that the addition of such
which by the by you will please to accept my best
letters will give the real meaning. Information of
wishes for its success, I was surprized to find (in
this kind often saves much trouble, and furnishes a
page 5) mention made of the Bells of St. Ann's being
clue towards the elucidation of the mystery. It may
not be desirable to give in detail the labour it has cost subjected to perpetual silence, on account of their
once ringing a welcome peal in honor of the Pretender.
me, to translate this very curious inscription. Let it
suffice, that I at last found it buried deep mid Hy-peal of bells, I have been led, by the singularity of the
Never having heard that the Church ever possessed a
perborean snows.'

History brought to recollection

In days of yore, when time was young, And birds conversed, as well as sung,'

that the seas which 'girt our favoured isle,' were infested by bands of Danes and Norwegians, who also formed establishments in many of the smaller isles, where their descendants remain to this day the Isle of Man, for instance. The inscription may be, either Danish or Norwegian, but more probably Icelandic, from the peculiar endings of some words(you may consult Mackenzie and Henderson on this point). It will, however, occupy too much room in the Iris, to give an entire translation, I can only add,

circumstance, to make particular enquiry respecting
them, and am informed, that the said Church never
had more than one bell. I imagine the welcome peal
would be rung, if ever rung, when his army arrived
here; now it is a curious circumstance, that at the
time when the first division of the rebel army came
to Manchester, they marched into the Square, and the
said bell was tolling a mournful peal for the soul of the
Rev. Joseph Hoole, who died November 27th, 1745,
several of the officers came to the grave side, took off
their bonnets, and behaved with the greatest attention
and decorum.

Chorlton, March, 1822.

W. H.

T. LONGSTAFF. 52, Dale-street, March 7th, 1822.

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

The Essay on Eloquence-Sea Stories, No. 4;—and several other favours, intended for this week, are unavoidably deferred until our next

We feel obliged to E. V. for his very polite letter, and shall be happy from time to time to insert his commanications.

The Poem by Beppo, is not rejected.-From the number of anonymous articles we receive, it is impossible to satisfy the wishes of every writer, as we must claim the privilege of selection.We are not at all fastidions.-There are many passages in the poem which please us, and the whole, with a little alteration, would suit our pages. If the writer will favour us with a call, or establish a confidential intercourse, so as to ensure the remainder of the Poem, we shall insert it.

Various explanations of the inscription in our last, have been received; which, for obvious reasons we postpone until next week.

The lines' To a gossipping Apothecary,' will be thought per

sonal.

Comunnnications have been received from Julia.-Alberto.-
Polidore.-A Thinker.-S. W.-P. W. H.-T. T. L.—A
Reader, and J. B.

The communication from Liverpool, in answer to the in-
seription in our last, has been returned to the Post-office,
as the writer did not pay the postage.

Manchester:

Printed, Published, and Sold,

BY HENRY SMITH AND BROTHERS
14, St. Ann's-Square.
Sold also by the Booksellers.