height, 64 diameters; distance, 4 diameters;" applied to the columns in Chapel of the basement story of the Bishop's Palace, Durham. 11. 10 diameters; distance, 54 diameters; applied to columns of arcade in Rochester Castle. IH. 13 diameters; distance, 9 diameters; applied to arches of choir of Canterbury Cathedral.” Additional. IV. 8 diameters; distance, & diameters; applied to arches in Dunchurch, Warwickshire. "Arched ailes." Saxon Architecture. V. Arches in the Nave of the Abbey church of St. Alban's. -Set up its distance (opening) in one diameter, diagonaled, in four parts, three of which give the height to springing of arch. VI. Arches in Nave of Gloucester Cathedral: distance, three parts; four give the height to springing of arch, VII. Arches in Nave of Durham Cathedral: distance, five parts; four give the height to springing of arch. Pointed Architecture. VIII. Arches in Nave of West

minster Abbey-church: distance, three parts; four give the height to spring ing of arch. IX, Arches in Nave of Salisbury Cathedral: distance, five parts; three give the height to springing of arch. X. Arches in Nave of York Cathedral: distance, seven parts; three give the height to springing of arch. XI. Arches in Choir of Abbey church, Bath: distance, eight parts three give the height to springing of arch. Saxon Architecture, XII. Door-way on North side of Steyning Church, Sussex: distance, ditto added gives the height to second line of square head. XIII. Door-way on South side of Chigwell Church, Essex: distance, two parts; two ditto give the height to springing of arch; one of which, divided in five parts, flat arch. gives height of XIV. Door-way in Pointed

Architecture.

Porch left of centre ditto of West front of Abbey-church of St. Alban's: distance, two parts; obe gives height to springing of arch; Live of the smaller parts give height of arch. XV. Door-way in centre Porch of ditto Church: distance, two parts; one divided into three smaller parts, four of which give height to springing of arch; four of ditto smal ler parts give height of arch. Saxon Architecture, XVI. Window East

front of Barfreston Church, Kent: distance, two ditto, which give height to springing of areh. XVII. Centre Window of West front of Durham Cathedral distance gives height to springing of arch, which, divided into two parts, give height of arch. Pointed Architecture. XVIII. East great Window of York Cathedral: distance, two parts; one gives height to springing of arch, two ditto height of arch.

From this plain and easy method, diameters and parts may be affixed to any subject; and from these examples it is as plain and easy to discover, that no positive proportions regulated the designs of our antient Architects, works of nearly the same date, Westminster and Salisbury, manifest such an extraordinary variation in their proportions. J. CARTER.

Mr. URBAN,ander i Sept. 5. in the Annals of English History CARCELY any female character in excites more our sympathy and commiseration, than that of the unfortunate Anne Bolein. When we recollect that she shone for a short in terval in the pomp of a Court, which was soon exchanged for a cell and a scaffold, the executioner and ✨ the axe, we are insensibly led to serious contemplation, and cannot fail to exclaim, "How little is elevated rank or regal greatness to be coveted! How much better it is to be good than great! How soon the bright morning of Prosperity ends in the gloom and darkness of Affliction!" The fatal instrument of her decapitation is yet exhibited to the Visitors of the Tower, and the last melancholy letter band still preserved in the Records of to the haughty Monarch her hus

the British Museum. After the awful catastrophe, what little deceney was shewn to her lifeless body! The most abject pauper in a Parochial work-house is allowed a coffin; but the headless remains of the departed Queen were said to be deposited in an arrow chest, and buried in the Tower Chapel, before the high altar. Where that stood, the most sagacious Antiquary, after a lapse of less than three hundred years*, cannot noW

deter

M

to time come under my observation, I have found few more interesting, or more deserving of notice, than the one entitled Edom O' Gordon; which is preserved in Bp. Percy's Re Hiques of Ancient English Poetry. Whatever may be the prevalent opinion with respect to the value and importance of performances of this nature; I am not at all ashamed to confess, that I never read this over without occasionally approaching somewhat to that state, in which Medea may be considered as being, when Euripides applies to her the epithet &pridaxpus. If this be a weakness, I am at least weak in high company; as we have it from good authority that the great Bentley “ never could read a touching story without tears in his eyes. serre,luben. ter erro. Closely allied to this surt of feeling was that which gave to the saying of + Sir Philip Sydney, that he never heard the old song of Percie and Douglas (Chevy-Chase), that he found not his heart moved more than with a trumpet."

rise

*Med. 899. The modern Lexicographers, to a man, render the word qui recens lachrymavit; which is not the true meaning. Hesychius approaches very nearly to the right signification. Αρτίδακρυς· εὐχερης πρὸς δάκρυον. + Spectator, No. 70.

One of the stanzas of this little poem, wedged in under the circumstances that it is, appears to me to be so exceedingly beautiful, that I cannot refrain from attempting its translation both in Latin and Greek. It will be for your readers, Mr. Urban, to decide how far I may have succeeded in this attempt. Of the poem at large I may say something op a future occasion. A set bag bak Some account of the subject. of this Ballad may be found in Abp. Spotswood's History of the Church of Scotland, p. 259. where we are told, that, among other enormities, the ruffian Gordon, having sent to summon the house of Tavoy belonging to Alexander Forbes, was, by reason of the absence of her husband, refused admittance by the Lady of the house: in consequence of which it was set on fire by Gordon and his party, and herself, her children and servants, in all twenty-seven persons, burnt to death. The stanza in ques tion is supposed to be uttered by her on seeing her little son on the point of being suffocated by the smoke.

O'GORDON, stanza 21,

I wad § gie a' my gowd, my childe,
Sae wald I a' my fee,

For ane blast of the Western wind,
To blaw the reek frae thee.

Mr. URBAN, Rumsgate, Sept. 9. As a Friend to Literature of every S you have always shewn yourself

kind, I flatter myself you will insert in your valuable monthly publication the following observations, which, if I am not mistaken, are calculated to promote its interest.

As nothing has a greater tendency to excite study and emulation among the younger Members of a University than the institution and endowment of Scholarships, it was a fortunate circumstance for the University of Cambridge, that when the Subscribers to the erection of a Statue in honour of the late Mr. Pitt found they had a surplus from their Subscriptionmoney, they immediately determined to apply it to the institution of a Scholarship in that University where Mr. Pitt had been educated, and that it should be called, after his name, the Pitt Scholarship. This plan has been happily carried into execution; and if we may judge from the circumstance of there having been seventeen Candidates for the Premium attached to the Scholarship at the only election which has yet taken place, it promises to be of essential service to the cause of Literature. When an example has been set, if it is a good one, it naturally excites a desire to follow it; and perhaps I am far from being the only person who, on this occasion, has had his attention drawn from Cambridge to Oxford; and as the late Mr. Fox, the great political rival of Mr. Pitt, was educated at this latter University, and distinguished himself there, and afterwards, by his fondness for, and cultivation of, classical learning, has been led to wish, that the Friends and Patrons of the University of Oxford would avail themselves of this circumstance, and call on those Noblemen, Gentlemen, and Clergy, who had their education at Oxford, to shew their regard for their Alma Mater by imitating the example set at Cambridge, and by entering into a Subscription for the institution and endowment of a Scholarship, to be called the Fox Scholarship. The

benefit that would result to classical

learning from such an institution, weighs much more with me than the honour that would accrue from it to the memory of Mr. Fox, though this circumstance, I should hope, would have a very beneficial effect in pro

moting the Subscription, and creating every, surviving Friend (and I trust a Fund for the Scholarship; as surely

there are many) who retains and feels an affection for his memory, and those many amiable virtues aud, pleasing qualities which endeared him to all who had the happiness of knowing him, will be willing to embrace this, opportunity of honouring the man after death, to whom during life they professed an attachment. I here allude to his personal, not his political friends; for the honour'resulting from such a Scholarship I would wish to arise from the circumstance of Mr. Fox's acknowledged taste for, and skill in, Literature; not from his political sentiments or conduct, which have no connexion with the object. in view, and about the merit of which there naturally subsists a difference and variety of opinion, whereas there is no person who can deny his claim to the distinction of an elegant Scholar.

I have not, Mr, Urban, suggested this proposal of a Scholarship at Oxford in consequence of any partiality I feel for that University, since the fact is, that I never was a Member of it; but, as I understand that there are fewer Scholarships at Oxford than at Cambridge, it seems much to be regretted, that advantage should not be taken of such an opportunity of increasing the number.ndlagte

I am not without hope, that as your Magazine is so generally read, what I have thus ventured to suggest to the attention of the publick may meet the eye of some person or persons of rank and character, who have a sufficient regard for the interests of learning, and in particular for its promotion in the University of Oxford, to induce them to take an active part in this business, and to set on foot a Subscription for the institution of the Fox Scholarship, to which I shall readily and liberally subscribe.

A FRIEND TO LITERATURE.

.

to remove an error from any mistaken mind, I shall never deem misspent the committing it thus briefly to paper.

"Hear it, ye Senates, hear this truth sublime,

He that allows oppression, shares the crime." DARWIN.

"And so, Sir, you defend Duelling: then you defend what human laws forbid, and what God abhors: you defend what is disgraceful to mankind, and destructive to every thing that is good; what is the bane of society, happiness, and honour- and the contempt of religion, liberty, and law. 'Tis a madman's judgment, and a fool's revenge. But why, Sir, do you defend it? Because (you say) it is the refuge of injured honour. Sir, I deny it. Instead of being the refuge, it is the fatal rock on which that honour splits for ever; it aggravates, not repairs the injury. But what is honour? Honour is the tie of friendship, love, and society-the sacred barrier betwixt man and man. And this, when injured, (you say) demands the most rigid satisfaction. Sir, I allow it; nor do I think any satisfaction Honour may ask too much for Honour to give but that staking life to life-killing or being killed-can repair injured reputation, common sense absolutely denies. Let us put the case. I am your friend I injure you-I will even say intentionally and grossly, by which I forfeit my own honour, and injure yours; you call me out-measure the distance-level, and kill me. Pray, Sir, how do you feel yourself? Is any thing added to your repulation-any thing to your peace of mind - any thing to your satisfaction? Little, I fear, in the opinion of the worthy, and as little in your own. Well; but suppose I only injure you unintentionally, or you only imagine I injure you (as indeed is most generally the case)-down with the pistols again-and down with your friendwhom the next day you find to have been more truly your friend than you were aware of. Sweet consolation! But suppose in either of the cases it had been your lot to fall; you would, to be sure, have the delightful satis faction, when expiring, to think on my ensuing life of misery-to think that I should still live to be stigmatized as the injurer and murderer of my

friend the pest of society-and the abhorrence of mankind. You would indeed, I say, have that satisfaction; but that would be a poor satisfaction to the wife who had lost a tender husband to the little babes who had lost a good father-and to the society that had lost a valuable member. Such is the satisfaction of the Duellist: such is the reparation for an injury the law would have quietly and justly repaired. Law! (then you say) why there are many injuries the Law observes not; and if it did, could I cowardly wait for its slow operations? Suppose a man insults my wife, daughter, or friend? These, Sir, are arguments easily started, and what thoughtless boys argue over a glass of wine. Sir, they are easily answered. If the Law deems any injury too trivial to observe, does it follow you should punish that injury with death? I think not. The operations of the Law are indeed slow, particularly when glanced on by the haste of hotheaded revenge. But then the wife, the daughter, and the friend: aye, that must be answered. Why, Sir, I would live to defend them--not die to leave them unprotected nor kill the wretch that injured them, for then even the revenge, you seem so fond of, would be at an end. I say, Sir, I would live to see them righted. But how would you right them? Certainly, Sir, by some other means than standing for a villain to shoot at me. But now we will suppose that I am the aggressor, and that I received the challenge; for I perceive you think to catch me tripping in that quarter. Well then, Sir, I say I would refuse it. What, in all cases? Yes, in all cases: for even was I pal pably the aggressor, and a villain, one would think that common remorse would withhold me from aggravating my crime by deliberately murdering him I had offended or that some remaining spark of honour would prompt me rather to live in disgrace, or die by the just sentence of the Law; for assuredly the halter of the executioner is an honour when compared to the pistol of the Duellist. But had I accidentally injured, or given occasion for a supposition of offence when none was intended, assuredly would I refuse the challenge -come to an explanation and even could I not convince him of bis error,

:

I would