rica with many thousand human bodies; you have been accessary to the departure of thousands of souls into the awful presence of their God.

How inconsistent has your conduct been with the religion which you profess, and the characters you ought to sustain. Instead of being the promoters, you ought to have stood forth the mediators between America and England; instead of tacitly or public bowing at the nod of the minister, because he is the minister of state, or crouching to the will of the king, because he was born a prince, you ought to have been urgent for peace and the prevention of bloodshed; and, instead of waving the banners of war, you should have presented the sheathed sword; had you so acted, you would have done well. Permit me, my lords, to ask you a serious question. Do you think, when you lay on the bed of sickness, that the minister or your sovereign can arrest the impartial hand of death? Can they assist you at the bar where you stand for trial? Will your vergers, your prebends, your canons, and your deans, screen you from the steadfast eye of the Judge? Can He who commanded us to love one another, and to bear with each others failings, approve your conduct, and regard you with a favourable presence? Can he commend those bloody principles which you have adopted? What was the motive that induced you to vote as you have voted? Was it for the furtherance of religion and truth, or for, the pleasure of an earthly king, who must appear at the same bar with yourselves, and answer for his

conduct without his herd of priests and fawning courtiers? Repent, my lords, while you have the power of repentance. Delay may be fatal. Be strenuous for peace, and prevent the further effusion of human blood. Abstract from your mind all thoughts of increasing grandeur, of the favour of kings, and the accumulation of wealth, and act so that you may be translated from a world of vanity to that place where you may, indeed, be priests unspotted and unblemished.

ONE OF THE PEOPLE.

Address of a Felon to his Child, on the Morning of his Execution. Written by Mrs. Opie, and respectfully

inscribed to the Philanthropic Society.

Poor Babe, that thro' this darksome grate
Survey'st yon crowd with curious eye,
If thou wouldst learn why thus they wait-
Know, 'tis to see thy father die!

To see how I that death shall bear

They deem for crimes like mine most fit;
Crimes urg'd by want, which many there
Were never tempted to commit!

A death, sweet innocent, for which
Thou'lt be, alas! one day revil'd ;
For with my guilt the rude of speech
Too often will reproach my child!

Poor outcast, whither canst thou turn?
Thy future fate adds pangs to mine:

I must my own offences mourn,
And fear, devoted babe, for thine!

For all thou canst from me receive
Is but a legacy of shame;
And, shouldst thou up to manhood live,
Thou'lt learn to curse thy Father's name!

But, while my guilt's to thee unknown,
Come, let me press thee to my breast,
Thou treasure without crime-my Son-
Thou only wealth I e'er possess'd!

Thou pledge of pure and faithful loves,
Image of one I still deplore;

Yet now her death a blessing proves-
She lives not, to behold this hour!
But from my arms, ah, wherefore fly-
Why do I court thy kiss in vain?

Whence spring those tears; what means that cry?—
Ah me!-thou fear'st my clanking chain!

Till now I felt not all its weight;

But soon they'll come, my limbs to free :--When I am summon'd to my fate,

My arms unchain'd may close on thee!

Then welcome, bitter hour of death:
Thou'lt be of some keen pangs beguil'd;

For, ere I yield my forfeit breath,
I closely may embrace my child!

And see, they come to take me hence!
My injur'd, precious boy adieu!

O, cruel world, for my offence

Wilt thou this child with horror view?

Ah, yes :—with me his hopes must die;
For who will take him to their care?

The prudent e'en his sight will fly,

Lest, with my blood, my guilt he share!

And soon to vice and mis'ry driven,

Unknown, or else disdained by worth:
Untaught, my child, the way to heaven,
Thou'lt yet be deem'd unfit for earth!

What words are these, that to my soul
A feeling like delight impart?—
That fear and agony controul,

And bind an almost broken heart?

They say a gen'rous few have join'd
(The pride of these enlighten'd times),
Poor outcast, orphan babes to find,

And save them from their parent's crimes?

To them instruction's page they ope,

To teach them to toil for honest fame,
And by their own good actions hope
To wipe away their parent's shame.

Blest men, a dying culprit's pray'r

Now seeks for you the heavenly throne;
For making thus our babes your care,
May heav'n reward you in your own!

They write from Leicester, April 29, that about twenty years ago, a young man, whose father was then governor of Antigua, was sent to one Mr. Brown, a merchant in London, who placed him in a dissenting academy, under Dr. Binnion, in Shropshire. This young man had a liberal allowance, but not sufficient for his ex

1

pences; whereupon he gave his soul to the devil by a writing; which Dr. Binnion coming to the knowledge of, he talked as was proper to the young man, but took the writing, and with wax fixed it to 1 John iii. 8. in his Hebrew and Greek bible, of Plantin's edition. Upon Dr. Binnion's death, Mr. Gee the non-conforming minister married his widow, and has the bible. On Tuesday, the 28th instant, a clergyman and another gentleman went to see it, and found it thus worded: "I do resolve, and will resign up my soul to thee at the end of twenty years hence, from this very day, August the 24th.

"Witness my hand,

August 24, 1704.

"JOHN HAMILTON."

And under his name a mark somewhat resembling a ragged staff, and written against it, "Never to be broken." It is said to be written in blood, but the letters are now pretty black, with a tincture of yellow. The young man left Dr. Binnion about three months after this, and Mr. Gee cannot tell what is become of him; but the term drawing nigh, he and others are inquisitive what will befal him next August.

To be seen, at Mr. John Symé's, Peruke Maker, opposite the Mews, Charing Cross, the surprising and famous Italian Female Sampson, who has been seen in several courts of Europe with great applause. She will absolutely walk,