I now point out a more evident plagiarism.
“In that dread moment, how the frantic foul
Stares round the walls of her clay tenement."

"Till forced, at laft, to the tremendous verge,
At once the finks to everlasting ruin."

"Sure 'tis a serious thing to die! My foul
What a ftrange moment must it be, when near
Thy journey's end, thou haft the gulf in view!
That awful gulf no mortal e'er repafs'd
To tell what's doing on the other fide."

"Tell us, ye dead, will none of you, in pity
To thofe you left behind, disclose the secret?
Oh! that fome courteous ghost would blab it out
What 'tis you are, and we must shortly be.
I've heard that fouls departed have sometimes
Forewarn❜d men of their death-'twas kindly done
To knock and give the alarm-But what means
This ftinted charity-'Tis but lame kindness,
That does its work by halves. Why might you not
Tell us what 'tis to die? Do the ftrict laws

Of your fociety forbid your fpeaking

Upon fo nice a point ?—I'll afk no more.
Sullen, like lamps in fepulchres, your fhine
Enlightens but yourselves.-Well, 'tis no matter;
very little time will clear up all,

A

And make us learn'd, as you are, and as clofe."

Obferve now the fimilitude of the following poem by NORRIS.

THE MEDITATION.

"It must be done, my foul, but 'tis a ftrange,

A difmal and mysterious change,

When thou shalt leave this tenement of clay,

And to an unknown somewhere wing away;

When time fhall be eternity, and thou

Shalt be-thou know'ft not what; and live-thou know'st not how.

Amazing ftate! no wonder, that we dread
To think of death, or view the dead!
Thou'rt all wrapt up in clouds, as if to thee
Our very knowledge had antipathy.

Death could not a more fad retinue find,
Sickness and pain before, and darkness all behind.

Some courteous ghoft, tell this great secrecy,
What 'tis you are and we must be→→

You warn us of approaching death, and why
May we not know from you, what 'tis to die?
But you having shot the gulf delight to fee
Succeeding fouls plunge in, with like uncertainty.
When life's close knot, by writ from destiny,
Disease fhall cut, or age untie,

When, after fome delays, fome dying ftrife,
The foul stands shivering on the ridge of life,
With what a dreadful curiofity,

Does the launch out into the fea of vast eternity!

Lo, when the fpacious globe was delug'd o'er,
And lower holds could fave no more,

On loftieft boughs astonish'd finners stood,
And view'd the advances of the encroaching flood,
O'ertopp'd at length by th' element's increase,
With horror they refign'd to the untry'd abyfs.

THE NATURAL STATE OF MAN.

AS every other animal is in its natural ftate, when in the fituation, which its inftinct requires, fo man, when his reason is cultivated, is then, and only then, in the state proper to his nature. The life of the native favage, who feeds upon acorns, and sleeps like a beast in his den, is commonly called the natural state of man; but, if there be any propriety in this affertion, his rational faculties compofe no part of his nature, and were given not to be used. If the favage, therefore, live in a fitate, contrary to the appointment of nature, it must follow, that he is not for happy, as nature intended him to be.

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH

OF

WILLIAM GIFFORD, ESQ.

[Concluded from page 116.]

THIS perfon, who was foon found, was Thomas Taylor, Esq.

of Denbury, a gentleman to whom I have already been indebted for much liberal and friendly fupport. He procured me the place of Bib. Lect. at Exeter College: and this, with fuch occafional affiftance from the country, as Mr. Cookesley undertook to provide, was thought fufficient to enable me to live, at least, till I had taken a degree.

During my attendance on Mr. Smerdon, I had written, as I obferved before, feveral tuneful trifles, fome as exercises, others voluntarily, (for poetry was now become my delight) and not a few at the defire of my friends. When I became capable, however, of reading Latin and Greek with some degree of facility, that gentleman employed all my leisure hours in translations from the claffics; and indeed I do not know a single schoolbook, of which I did not render fome portion into English verse. Among others, Juvenal engaged my attention, or rather my mafter's, and I tranflated the tenth Satire for a holyday task. Mr. Smerdon was much pleased with this, (I was not undelighted with it myself;) and as I was now become fond of the author, he eafily perfuaded me to proceed with him, and I tranflated in fucceffion the third, the fourth, and twelfth, and I think the eighth Satires. As I had no end in view but that of giving a temporary fatisfaction to my benefactors, I thought little more of thefe, than of many other things of the fame nature, which I wrote from time to time, and of which I never copied a fingle line.

On my removing to Exeter College, however, my friend, ever attentive to my concerns, advised me to copy my tranflation of the tenth Satire, and prefent it, on my arrival, to the Rev. Dr. Stinton, (afterwards Rector) to whom Mr. Taylor had given me an introductory letter: I did fo, and it was kindly received. Thus encouraged, I took up the first and second Satires, (I mention them in the order they were tranflated) when Vol. I. No. 4.

W

my friend, who had seduously watched my progress, first started the idea of my going through the whole, and publishing it by subscription, as a means of increasing my means of subsistence. To this I readily acceded, and finished the thirteenth, eleventh, and fifteenth Satires: the remainder were the work of a much later period.

When I had got thus far, we thought it a fit time to mention our defign; it was very generally approved by my friends; and on the first of January, 1781, the fubfcription was opened by Mr. Cookesley at Ashburton, and by myself at Exeter College.

So bold an undertaking so precipitately announced, will give the reader, I fear, a higher opinion of my conceit than of my talents: neither the one nor the other, however, had the smalleft concern with the bufinefs, which originated folely in ignorance: I wrote verses with great facility, and I was fimple enough to imagine that little more was neceffary for a tranflator of Juvenal! I was not, indeed, unconscious of my inaccuracies: I knew that they were numerous, and that I had need of fome friendly eye to point them out, and fome judicious hand to rectify or remove them; but for thefe, as well as for every thing elfe, I looked to Mr. Cookesley, and that worthy man, with his usual alacrity and kindness, undertook the laborious task of revising the whole translation. My friend was no great Latinift, perhaps I was the better of the two; but he had taste and judgment, which I wanted. What advantages might have been ultimately derived from them, there was unhappily no opportunity of ascertaining, as it pleased the Almighty to call him to himself by a fudden death, before we had quite finished the first Satire. He died with a letter of mine unopened in his hands.

This event, which took place on the 15th of January, 1781, afflicted me beyond measure.* I was not only deprived of a moft faithful and affectionate friend, but of a zealous and everactive protector, on whom I confidently relied for fupport: the fums that were still neceffary for me, he always collected and

* I began this unadorned narrative on the 15th of January, 1801: twenty years have therefore elapfed fince I loft my benefactor and my friend. In the interval I have wept a thousand times at the recollection of his goodness: I yet cherish his memory with filial respect; and at this distant period, my heart finks within me at every repetition of his name.

it was to be feared that the affiftance, which was not folicited with warmth, would infenfibly ceafe to be afforded.

In many inftances this was actually the cafe: the defertion however, was not general: and I was encouraged to hope, by the unexpected friendship of Servington Savery, a gentleman who voluntarily ftood forth as my patron, and watched over my interefts with kindness and attention.

Some time before Mr. Cookefley's death, we had agreed that it would be proper to deliver out with the terms of subscription, a fpecimen of the manner in which the tranflation was executed:* to obviate any idea of felection, a fheet was accordingly taken from the beginning of the firft Satire. My friend died while it was in the prefs.

After a few melancholy weeks, I refumed the tranflation; but found myself utterly incapable of proceeding. I had been fo accustomed to conne& Mr. Cookefley's name with every part of it, and I laboured with fuch delight in the hope of giving him pleasure, that now, when he appeared to have left me in the midst of my enterprise, and I was abandoned to my own efforts, I feemed to be engaged in a hopeless struggle, without motive or end: and his idea, which was perpetually recurring to me, brought fuch bitter anguish with it, that I fhut up the work with feelings bordering on distraction.

To relieve my mind, I had recourfe to other purfuits. I endeavoured to become more intimately acquainted with the claffics, and to acquire fome of the modern languages; by permiffion too, or rather recommendation, of the Rector and Fellows, I also undertook the care of a few pupils: this removed much of my anxiety respecting my future means of fupport. I have a heart-felt pleasure in mentioning this indulgence of my college; it could arife from nothing but the liberal defire inherent, I think, in the members of both our Universities, to encourage

Many of these papers were distributed; the terms, which I extract from one of them, were these: "The work fhall be printed in quarto, (without notes) and be delivered to the Subfcribers in the month of December next.

"The price will be fixteen fhillings in boards, half to be paid at the time of fubfcribing, the remainder on delivery of the book."