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Or on food were your thoughts placed,
66 And this other is still more curiously elegant."
“ Ask me no more where Jove bestows,
Ask me no more whither doth stray
Ask me no more whither doth haste
Ask me no more, if east or west
“ And where will you find a sweeter pastoral, than this sylvan dialogue between a shepherd and a nymph ?”
“ Shep. This mossy bank they press’d. Nym. That
Cho. Here let us sit and sing the words they spoke,
Till the day breaking their embraces broke. Shep. See, love, the blushes of the morn appear,
And now she hangs her pearly store,
(Robb’d from the eastern shore,) 'th' cowslip's bell, and rose's ear: Sweet, I must stay no longer here.
Nym. Those streaks of doubtful light usher not day,
But show my sun must set; no morn
Shall shine till thou return;
Shep. If thine eyes gild my paths, they may forbear
Their useless shine. Nym. My tears will quite
Extinguish their faint light. Shep. Those drops will make their beams more clear,
Love's flames will shine in ev'ry tear.
Cho. They kiss'd and wept; and from their lips and
Their joys and sorrows meet ;
Shep. The winged hours fly fast, whilst we embrace ;
But when we want their help to meet,
They move with leaden feet.
The day for ever from this place.
Shep. Hark! Nym. Ay, me, stay! Shep. For ever.
Nym. No, arise,
Cho. Neither could say farewell, but through their
eyes Grief interrupted speech with tears supplies.” “ Carew possessed naturally but little humour; but there is a dignified, pleasing, sly gravity in the lines upon Lord Chief Justice Finch, on paying his addresses to Lady Anne Wentworth. It possesses, moreover, Benedict, what you so much admire, a sort of classical air, which, by the way, is rather a stiffishness of manner than an excellence.”
“ Read the poem,” said the Bachelor, and the Nymph read,
“Hear this, and tremble all
Usurping beauties, that create
In love's free state ;
Hark how the stern law breathes
Forth amorous sighs, and now prepares
And braided hairs;
The golden age returns,
Love's bow and quiver useless lie;
Astræa hath possest
An earthly seat, and now remains
That guest contains :
ONE morning, after a long debate in the House of Commons on the Catholic question, the Nymph and the Bachelor fell into conversation in reading the report of the speeches in the Morning Chronicle. “ I think,” said she, “ that none of the orators venture to touch the marrow of this important subject."
“ How! what do you mean ?" replied Benedict, anticipating, from the tone in which she had made the remark, something paradoxical," what other marrow is there in the subject, than that the law as it stands deprives millions of their undoubted political rights ?”
“ The law as it stands, you ought rather to say, prevents those millions from disturbing public affairs, merely because such is the state and circumstances of their minds, that they can neither reason nor exercise their judgment like other men.-There can be
no emancipation of the Catholic but by himself.--He should show that he is as free a moral agent as the rest of the species, before he can hope that they will permit him to take a part in their common affairs.”
“ In what way,” said the Bachelor, “ are they to do this ? I am sure in all things the Roman Catholic shows himself as much a man, and as good a subject, as any other Christian.”
“ He does no such thing,” replied the Nymph, somewhat fervently, at hearing her beloved repeat this stale assertion. " In the first place, he acknowledges a power to reside in other men, which, were he in a condition to exercise his judgment freely, he would feel himself obliged to confess is not consistent with human nature. I mean the priestly remission of sin ;-and, moreover, in believing the irrational doctrine of transubstantiation, he denies the evidence of his own senses. Now, what sort of confidence should we be disposed to give to a person, who asserted that he was intrusted with supernatural powers, and maintained that fire was ice,-treating with contempt the opinion, that supernatural power can never be possessed by man, and asserting that all deserved eternal perdition who did not believe that the fire which he called ice, in despite of the sensations of touch and vision, was ice ?"
" But not to grow polemical,” interrupted the Bachelor,—“ those sort of absurdities are mere speculative opinions, and as such have probably as little influence on the conduct of the Catholic as any theoretical dogma whatever has on that of the more philosophical Protestant. It is therefore hard, that