The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository Part 190

G.o.ddess of FREEDOM from on high behold us, While thus we dedicate to thee our lays; Long in thy cause hath principle enroll'd us, Here, to thy name, a monument we raise.

Thus then combining, heart and voice joining, Sing we in harmony to FREEDOM's praise.

Here ev'ry gen'rous sentiment awaking Zeal that inspir'd our patriots of yore; Each pledge of Freedom giving and partaking, Join we our bleeding country to restore.

Thus then combining, heart and voice joining, Send the shouts of LIBERTY from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e.

SONNET.

Pleasant it is awhile to linger here, Amid the woodlands, listening to the breeze, That bathes my throbbing temples, to mine ear, As fitfully it sweeps along the trees, Moaning not immelodious. Sacred shade!

I would fain dwell in your most dark recess, Far from the din of folly, where distress, With dim eye, never more should ask the aid Not mine to grant. Here would my jaundic'd heart Soon heal and harmonize: but I again, Perforce, must sojourn in the haunts of men.

Loth from these lonely, lovely scenes to part, Alone, in crowds, my solitary breast Would fain, by apathy, be chill'd to rest.

_NEW-YORK: +Printed by JOHN TIEBOUT, No. 358, Pearl-Street, for THOMAS BURLING, Jun. & Co.+ +Subscriptions+ for this +Magazine+ (at 6s. per quarter) are taken in at the Printing-Office, and at the Book-Store of Mr. J. FELLOWS, Pine-Street._

THE NEW-YORK WEEKLY MAGAZINE; or, Miscellaneous Repository.

+Vol. II.+] _Wednesday, June 21, 1797._ [+No. 103.+

DOMESTIC FELICITY.

"Retirement, rural quiet, friends.h.i.+p, books, Ease and alternate labour, useful life, Progressive virtue, and approving Heav'n!"

THOMSON.

Retired from the busy scenes of the world, in a village near H----, lives Lucretia, with her daughters, Emma and Maria. Emma is in her eighteenth year; her person is elegant, and her mind enriched with every accomplishment that can adorn or endear the female character: Maria, who has only completed fourteen, to a beautiful countenance, joins the more fascinating charms of a well-improved understanding. Lucretia is an affectionate mother, who uses every endeavour to inspire her daughters with such sentiments of religion and virtue as will be conducive to their present and future happiness. She has once moved in the higher circles of life; but, though misfortunes have eclipsed her former grandeur, they have brought that felicity which _fas.h.i.+onable Folly_ never knows. It gave me infinite pleasure to hear her address her daughters--"My dear children" said she, "never reflect that your family was once great in the esteem of the world; it will only create ambitious thoughts, and destroy inward peace, which is an inestimable blessing.

I can a.s.sure you, that happiness is no attendant on the great, nor could I ever find real pleasure in high life. Never did I experience that simple, but substantial felicity, which is always easily obtained, till Providence humbled my fortunes. May you ever submit to its dispensations! Heaven is best able to judge what is proper for us. It is one of my chief comforts, to believe that things are not governed by chance; but are under the direction of an All-wise Being. Never forget, that virtue is the greatest happiness, and innocence the highest accomplishment!--To witness the sweet content that smiles on every face, the n.o.ble disgust they manifest against the follies and amus.e.m.e.nts of the _Little_ Great, and the dissipated manners of the age, is truly admirable!" A tender esteem unites the two sisters; and Lucretia, who is a sensible and accomplished woman, contributes all in her power to increase harmony and love. The frivolous conversation that disgraces our _well bred_ companies, never engages them. The tale of virtuous distress excites the tear of sympathy; at the recital of any magnanimous action, a kindred emulation fires the bosom; but, at the deed of infamy, the abhorrence they feel is sufficiently marked in each expressive countenance. If the happy fire-side is any where enjoyed, surely it must be in such a family as this; where social converse, enlivened by female sweetness, cheers the wintry night! Where the art of disguising sentiments, and feigning what they never feel, is utterly unknown; where fastidious compliments never approach; and none are entertained at the expence of another's feelings.--Ye, who glitter in Fas.h.i.+on's splendid sphere, enjoying all that luxurious Wealth can give; whose days are one continued round of diversions, and for whom invention is wearied to contrive new pleasures; say, do you ever experience the happiness of such a family as I have thus faintly endeavoured to describe?

WOODVILLE.

COMPa.s.sION.

Compa.s.sion is an emotion of which we ought never to be ashamed.

Graceful, particularly in youth, is the tear of sympathy, and the heart that melts at the tale of woe. We should not permit ease and indulgence to contract our affections, and wrap us up in selfish enjoyment. But we should accustom ourselves to think of the distresses of human life, of the solitary cottage, the dying parent, and the weeping orphan. Nor ought we ever to sport with pain and distress in any of our amus.e.m.e.nts; nor treat even the meanest insect with wanton cruelty.

It has been objected, and it is to be feared with some reason, that female conversation is too frequently tinctured with a censorious spirit, and that ladies are seldom apt to discover much tenderness for the errors of a fallen sister. No arguments can justify, no pleas extenuate it.

To insult over the miseries of an unhappy creature is inhuman, not to compa.s.sionate them is unchristian. The worthy part of the s.e.x always express themselves humanely on the failings of others, in proportion to their own undeviating goodness, and by that gentle virtue are prompted to alleviate the distresses of the unfortunate and wretched; it prevents us from retaliating injuries; and restrains our severe judgments and angry pa.s.sions.

[[Source:

"Thoughts on Conversation" in Hannah More, _Essays Princ.i.p.ally Designed for Young Ladies_ (1777). "True Meekness" (p. 247, no. 83) is from the same source.]]

The _WANDERINGS_ of the IMAGINATION.

_BY MRS. GOOCH._

(Continued from page 395.)

The _HISTORY OF LLEWYLLIN._

"In the town of Glamorgan, Madam, I drew my first breath of life; but my entrance into the world was marked by the deprivation of its first blessing. As I never beheld the day (of which I can only form a very imperfect idea), I am the better reconciled to my unhappy destiny. One keen regret alone embitters my existence; and although I must not repine at the dispensations of Providence, nor arraign the justice of the Most High, I feel to its full extent the misery of having never been blessed with the sight of my daughter, whose piety has sustained my drooping years, and almost taught me to forget that I have a wish ungratified."

At that moment a string of the harp which stood in its usual corner, snapped aloud, and Julia taking it under her arm, withdrew with it into her own apartment, seemingly rejoiced at a pretext to leave the room, that she might conceal by retiring the visible emotion that began to overspread her feeling countenance.

The old man requested her to put it in proper order, and continued his story.

"As it was impossible for me to be brought up to any business in the town where we lived, and as my love of music had from my earliest years surpa.s.sed every other inclination, my father proposed sending me to London in my nineteenth year, that I might try in the musical world whether my abilities were sufficient to ensure me there a quiet and comfortable independence. But before he could adopt any measure that he thought likely to succeed, I had, without his knowledge, accepted the offering of a heart born to pity and to love me. A niece of my father's resided under our roof; her unceasing a.s.siduities and advances which I could not fail to comprehend, drew from me a sentiment hitherto unknown, and influenced every future action of my life. My cousin was young, and, I have heard, handsome. 'Tis probable, that had my situation been different, we might never have been united; but the pleasure she took in describing the objects around me, and that tender compa.s.sion she so evidently felt for my hapless infirmity, soon disposed my heart to the warmest grat.i.tude, and to that a more tender pa.s.sion soon succeeded. The result of this attachment soon made a visible alteration on the person of my cousin; and our intercourse, which had been long suspected, was at length discovered. An immediate marriage was the consequence; but the day that gave life to my Julia, deprived her mother of it.

"About this time, while we were yet uncertain whether I should go, and as my father's house was a continual memento of my late sad loss, Mr.

David Evans visited our town, and as he excelled on the harp, took pleasure to instruct me. I devoted my time to his lessons, and their practice; but my studies would have been soon interrupted by his departure, had not Sir Herbert Williams arrived with his family at an estate he had lately purchased between Swansea and Glamorgan, and insisted on Evans taking up his residence in his house.

"In the course of the ensuing summer many gentlemen who visited that delightful spot, were pleased to bestow the highest encomiums on my performances: they proposed my making the tour of England, and held forth the most flattering promises of liberal patronage and support.

A subscription was, at the close of the season, raised by them; and Evans who wished for (though he did not absolutely want) money, sold me at a moderate price the harp now in my possession, having another which he preferred to it.

"I quickly sallied forth as an adventurer, and for some time succeeded beyond my expectations. I was admired, courted, and caressed; but the novelty at length dissipated the charm, and I was no sooner, according to my own ideas, established in one place, than I found it was become necessary to remove to another. I wandered from town to town during an interval of thirteen years. Sometimes I re-visited _Glamorgan_; but my vanity had been too much flattered by the past, and my hopes too much raised by the expectation of the future, to allow me to doubt for a moment that fortune would not pour into my lap, and that it would be always time enough for me to lay by a sufficient provision for the support and comfort of my old age.

"I repaired at length to London, and displayed my talents there; but, to my utter astonishment, I played for more applause than gain. Here my sun of glory would have probably sat, had not the Count d'Adhemar, at that time Amba.s.sador from the Court of France, become, unsolicited, the most liberal of my patrons. On his discovering that my circ.u.mstances were not adequate to the expences of my existence, and, as he was pleased to add, to my merit, he deputed me the bearer of a private letter which he addressed to the Queen, who failed not at _Versailles_ to distinguish his recommendation with marks of her most zealous approbation. I had the honour to attend her Majesty, and to give her some lessons on her favourite harp. She was particularly charmed with the sweetness of the Scots ballads, which were unknown in that kingdom; nor did some of the old Welsh ditties fail to delight her ear. She vouchsafed in commiserating my infirmity, to alleviate its anguish, and soon gave me a preference over the French masters, under whose instructions she had not made the proficiency to which her brilliant talents were fully competent. In this situation I should have probably remained, had not envy, that loves not merit, darted its smooth-tongued venom on a creature whose only offence was misfortune; an offence the more dangerous, as in her generous heart it superseded every other consideration.

"The Queen ordered her Treasurer to give me a rouleau of fifty Louis-d'ors, and condescended to say that she was so well satisfied with the instructions I had given her, that she dismissed me against her inclination, and did so only in compliance with the discontent of my compet.i.tor, who found himself mortified that a foreigner, and particularly an Englishman, should have obtained her protection to his prejudice.

"But my pride had received a wound that was not to be healed in France.

For my disgrace various might be the causes a.s.signed, and perhaps the only real one concealed compliment to Monsieur ------. I determined therefore to return to Glamorgan, and found on my arrival there that Evans was lately dead; and from some hints that had been dropped by Sir Herbert Williams, it appeared probable that it was his wish for me to succeed him. Of this I was informed by Julia, who had been frequently noticed by Sir Herbert and his son, Mr. Williams, who sometimes called in at my father's house, and heard Julia with pleasure touch the harp, which she accompanied with a voice sweet and melodious, though not powerful.

"A few days after my return, Sir Herbert sent for me, and I was of necessity accompanied by my daughter. He enquired into my story; and on finding me disgusted with travelling, which could not afford to me the smallest share of that satisfaction experienced from it by the rest of mankind, he proposed my settling at Swansea; and from the double motive of compa.s.sion for my situation, and his having been accustomed by Evans to the enjoyment of music, he immediately settled on me an annuity of fifty pounds for my life, and gave me the apartment that had been occupied by my predecessor.

"In the following year my father died, and Julia remained unprovided for. I knew not how to dispose of her; and to send her to London, where she had no friends, was repugnant to my feelings. She was young, susceptible, and, I was told, handsome; add so these, her affection for me would not allow the idea of our separation, and she took up for the present her abode at a friend's house, in Swansea, and employed herself with such work as Sir Herbert's housekeeper chose to give her, more for the disposition of her time than for any emolument she could derive from it.