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The promise, like the pipe, inlays,
And, by the mouth of faith, conveys

What virtue flows

From Sharon's Rose.
Thus think, and smoke tobacco.
In vain th' unlighted pipe you blow;
Your pains in outward means are 80;

Till heavenly fire

Your hearts inspire.
Thus think, and smoke tobacco.
The smoke, like burning incense, towers,
So should a praying heart of yours,

With ardent cries,

Surmount the skies.

Thus think, and smoke tobacco.
Glasgow, September, 1812.

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[From Mr. Elton's Tales of Romance.]
THE moon had sunk in clouds; a storm was nigh,

And eddy leaves came scattering on the blast;
The merchant round him turn's an anxious eye,

As yet scarce half the forest length was past;
While mingling with the gloom a deeper dread,
The passing thunder rollå in murmurs o'er his head.
The steed shook wild his ruffled mane; around

The oak trees old rock'd roaring in the gale;
And pines their branches stoop'd with crashing sound;

Drear clos'd the darkness on the lightning pale;
When through the forest breaks a light from high
Shone distant, as it seem'd, a watch-tower in the sky.
With livelier cheer the traveller wound the glade,

Till climbing slow the dark hill's hanging steep,
Th’ illuminated turrets he survey'd,

Whose light had glimmer'd thro' those forests deep;
Beneath a stately castle's walls he stood,
That, flank'd with lofty towers, o'ertopp'd th’ ior wood.
Beside the gate was hung a brazen horn;

The pediment was grav'd with golden scroll;
“ Here food and shelter wait the wretch forlorn,

“ Who owns the treasure of a grateful soul.",
The merchant to his lips that horn applied,
The hollow mountain-glens re-echoed far and wide.
Straight quivering streaks illume the granite walls,

From many a gliding torch reflected bright;
Shrill ring the gates; expand the tapestried halls,

And blooming pages guide his steps aright;
With busy hands disrobe the way-worn guest,
And lave in tepid streams, and clothe in downy vest

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Up sprang the trav’ller when the morning broke,

And left the chamber with a beating breast;
The Duke encountering smil'd, and gracious spoke,

And ask'd if sweet his fare, if soft his rest;
Basilius bow'd the knee, but frankly said,
How that his breast was scar'd, and terrified his bed.
Stern smild his host, and led him where a room

Was rich with painting, gold, and ebony:
Without the casements roses wreath'd their bloom,

And woodbines droop'd in cluster'd canopy:
Its blossom’d boughs the myrtle green entwin'd,
And orange-trees with sweets impregnated the wind.
Rare needle-work the colour'd hangings wove,

The silken scene did loyal Joves display:
Knights in their helmets wore the gage of love,

Or at the feet of damsels courteous lay:
But all was stilly gloom; what seem'd a bed
Rose underneath an arch, with sable pall o'erspread.
Unseen the harp is touch'd; the whilst they taste

The luscious fruit, and drink metheglin sweet,
Slow to the Merchant's thought the moments waste,

Till rose the Duke in silence from his seat;
That sable pall he rais'd, and pointing stood;
The azure conch blush'd red-it was the stain of blood!
Then pray'd the trembling merchant to depart,

The gorgeous misery sicken'd on his brain;
The mystic drinking-skull; th’ embalmed heart,

The purple borror of the secret stain! “ Lo! here,” Onulphus cried, “ my bridal bower! " And here my consort clasp'd her guilty paramour. “ Like thee, my guest, he caught the roving glance

« Of Rosimund, and lur'd her to her shame; “ I saw; I found them in their sinful trance,

“ And quench'd in blood the barb'rous ingrate's flame; " It is the will of heaven that I should be “ The still-avenging scourge of her inconstancy. " This carbuncle that on my finger glows

“ Was once a living serpent's precious eye: * Thus did an Arab sage his night's repose

“ Requite, of necromantic potency: “ For still, when woman's faith would go astray, * This modest jewel pales its bright and sanguine ray." " And still, whene'er her thoughts to vice incline,

“ That cup is brought to med'cine her offence; " And tears of rage then mingle with her wine,

“ Would they were chang'd to tears of penitence! “ I may not dare, till she be chaste and true, “So warn’d by holy dreams, remit the penance due. " Now go in peace!” he said, and clasp'd him round

With courteous arms; the gates unfolding rang;
A barb with golden bit there paw'd the ground,

The grateful Merchant to the saddle sprang
Pensiye he left the castle walls; but thence
He bore a wiser heart, and former innocence.



By Bradford & Inskeen, Philadelphia.
Elements of Chemical Philosophy. By Sir Humphrey Davy, L. L.D.
Self-Indulgence: a Tale of the Nineteenth Century.
Marian: a Novel, in two volumes.

Memoirs of the Life and Character of the late Rev. George Whitefield, of Pembroke College, Oxford. Illustrated by a variety of Interesting Anecdotes. Originally compiled by the late Rev. John Gillies, D. D. Minister of the Col. lege Church of Glasgow First American, from the London edition. Revised and corrected with large additions and improvements. By Aaron Seymour, author of “ Letters to Young Persons."

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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, a Romaunt; and other Poems. By Lord Byron. Author of English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. 1 yol. 24mo. on fine paper. Price 75 cents.

By Isaac Pierce, Philadelphia. The Philosophy of Experimental Chemistry. By James Cutbush, Professor of Chemistry, Mineralogy, and Natural Philosophy, in St. John's College. Memoirs of the Columbian Chemical Society. vol. I. 8vo.

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The Theory of Agreeable Sensations, in which the Laws observed by Nature in the distribution of Pleasure are investigated.

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Memoirs of the Public Life of John HORNE TOOKz, Esq. Con

taining a particular Account of his onnexions with the most eminent Characters of the Reign of George III. His trial for Sedition, High Treason, &c. With his most celebrated Speeches in the House of Commons, on the Hustings, Letters, &c. By W. Hamilton Reid. 8vo. pp. 192. London. 1812.

[From the Quarterly Review, for June, 1812.] THIS is the only Life of Mr. Tooke we have yet seen. It is a miserable performance, below contempt as to style, information, and talent. We think it somewhat discreditable to the Jacobin school, that they have not been able to produce a better account of a person, who, with all his faults, was in this country their principal ornament and support. A good memoir upon this subject would be a useful accession to our stock of biography, literary and political. When we speak of a memoir, we, of course, do not mean a large quarto, or two large quartos, for with such it is said we are threatened-tked out with declamations and histories about the American war-dissertations

upon the author of Junius' diatribes' upon the French revolution, and the speeches of the Attorney General and Mr. Erskine but a book resembling this before us in size, and in nothing else-in which credit shall be given to the reader for a general acquaintance with the history of the last fifty vears--in which therefore the main subject will not be overwhelmed by a mase of extraneous matter,-in short, a life of Mr. Tooke, in which Mr. Tookę shall be the principal feature, and in which all that is material to be known of this extraordinary man shall be dili. gently collected, clearly arranged, and fairly related. We feel it the more necessary to give this warning, because it has been very much the practice of late years, under pretence of writing VOL. I. New Series.


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