the map.

With regard to Canada, e very one knows, that, for four or five months of the year, all access to it is cut off by the ice; and for the other months, which are the lighteft, every ship must pass either by the gut of Can fo, or between Cape Breton and New foundland, or by the ftreights of Belleifle. The gut of Canfo is not above two or three miles over, and confequently one cruifer would prevent a fin, gle fhip's paffing that way. The paf fage between the easternmost point of Cape Breton, and the westernmost point of Newfoundland, is not fifty miles over; and therefore four or five cruifers ftationed there, would render it almoft impoffible for a fingle ship to pafs; and a fleet could not approach either of thofe paffages without being discovered by fome of our fishing veffels up on the banks, and intelligence thereof given to our fquadron at Louifburg. The only paffage then left is by the ftreights of Belleifle, and that paffage lies fo far north, that it can never be attempted but in the height of fummer; and, during that time, a man of war or two, with a small cruifer from Louifburg, ftationed at the fouth-west end of thofe ftreights, would probably intercept every fhip that attempted to pass, as the ftreights are not above ten miles over, but are above fixty in length.

Thus, Sir, we might, in two or three years time, by mere famine alone, reduce the French colony of Canada; especially if, at the fame time, all fupplies were in a great measure prevented from being fent to the colony of Miffi. fippi; which might be eafly done, by a few fmall cruisers stationed upon the north fide of the bay of Mexico, under the protection of our fquadron at Jamai ca: for in that bay, the air is almost constantly so ferene and clear, that no ship can pass within fome miles of another, even in the night-time, without being discovered; and this colony too would foon be reduced to the utmoft distress, if they had no fupply of provifions from France, or of ammunition for enabling them to get provisions for them felves.

I therefore think it evident, Sir, from the very nature of things, that if we had taken this method of beginning and profecuting the war, we might, in two or three years, have fo diftreffed their colonies upon the continent of North America, that they would have been glad to have furrendered to us their colony of Canada, in order to fave their colony of Miffifippi and their fugar iflands; for thefe too would have been reduced to great diftrefs, because our privateers would have fwarmed fo about them, that it would have been very difficult for them to get any fupply of provifions or ammunition: and thus we might, in a few years, have put a glorious end to the war, without any great expence, and without expofing our armies to the fatigue and danger of marching two or three hundred miles, by land, through a wild, defert, and impracticable country, to attack the forts which the French have lately built in America; and which, if reduced, could be of very little advantage to us, unless we likewife fubdued the colony of Canada itself. But, by our reprisals, we have given the French the alarm, fo that by this time I reckon they have fo well furnished all their colonies with troops, ammunition, and provifions, that we cannot propofe to reduce any of them by famine; and I believe we fhall now find it both difficult and expenfive to reduce any of them, especially Cape Breton, by force of arms. This will of course make the French lefs willing to agree to any reafonable terms of peace than they would otherwise have been; from whence any one may foresee, without being a conjuror, that a war is not only unavoidable, but that it will be an expenfive and a tedious war.

Thus we may fee, Sir, what an unfortunate fituation we have brought our felves into, by fhewing an extreme, and, I think, unneceffary concern, left any of the allies of France fhould look upon us as the aggreffors in the war; and as feamen will be fo much wanted in the profecution of the war, I fhall not, for fuch a reafon, be against doing, or for delaying to do, what will contribute to

wards

I am that bird which they combine

Thus to deprive of liberty;

my

And though my corpfe they can confine,
Yet maugre that foul is free:
Tho' I'm mew'd up, yet I can chirp and fing,
Difgrace to rebels, glory to my King.

My foul is free as is th' ambient air,

Which doth my outward parts include; Whilft loyal thoughts do ftill repair,

To 'company my folitude. What tho' they do with chains my body bind ? My King can only captivate my mind.

In fome copies of this poem the following stanza is inferted between the feventh and eighth : When once my prince affliction hath, Profperity doth treafon feem; And for to fmooth fo rough a path, I can learn patience from him. But now to fuffer fhews a legal part; (fmart. When kings want eafe, fubjects must learn to But this ftanza utterly deftroys the uniformity of the poem, and is inconfiftent with every other part of it. The defign of the whole is, to reprefent as benefits, what bad by his enemies been intended as punishments; and to fhew, that " Malice wants wit to effect its purpofe." But this fianza contains an acknowledgment, that Malice has effected its purpose upon him; that he fuffers; and that it is fit be fhould fuffer. For this reafon, and because it is not in all copies, it is omitted in this, either as compofed by the author, and afterwards rejected, or as interpolated by fome other. Gent. Mag.

N. B. Our readers have formerly feen another copy of this poem, ascribed to a loyalist of our own country. [x. 278.]

To the Lords of the A- Y. [45.] My Lords,

'T

IS the humble opinion of us the courtmartial,

(A court of all courts most surely impartial !) That A- L BG his utmost did not

To engage and adjudge him for that to be hot. But to palliate his crime, with def'rence we fhew, In our fentence, diftinctions quite subtle and new: That 'twas prov'd he ne'er fhew'd any tokens of fear,

(And how the plague could be-fo far in the rear!)
That clearly to us he appear'd in this light,
Not a coward-but only damn'd backward in
fight.

Or, more clear to refine it, we've fhewn in effect,
To be backward in fighting-is but a neglect.
And tho' we've condemn'd him, for mercy we pray,
Left bis cafe be our cafe at fome other day.
By a young lady of fifteen.

On Mr PITT's being indifpofed with the gout.
An IMPROMPTU

For be to Putt's activity a foc.

LY, Gout, and feize the lazy Papal toe,

Ye gods! he afks no more than firm to fland: Give him a foot, he'll fix the tott'ring land.

(

Extract from a poem on the barbarities of the French, and their favage allies and profelytes, on the frontiers of Virginia. By Sam. Davies, A. M.

Ong had a mungrel French and Indian brood
Our peaceful frontiers drench'd with Bri-

tifh blood.

There Horror rang'd, and her dire enfigns bore,
Raw fcalps her trophies, ftiff with clotted gore;
The heart and bowels fmoking on the ground,
Still warm with life, and mangled corpfes round.
There buzzards riot, and each rav'nous fowl,
And all the monsters of the defert howl,
And gnaw the naked bones; there mix in fight,
Like Gallic tyrants, for their neighbour's rights
See yonder cottage, once the peaceful feat
Of all the pleasures of the nuptial state.
The sturdy fon, the prattling infant, there,
And fpotlefs virgin, blefs'd the happy pair.
In gentle fleep, undreaming ill, they lay;
But oh! no more to fee the chearful day.
Mad with the paffions of an Indian foul,
The tawny furies in the thickets prowl,
Thro' the dark night, and watch the dawn of
To fpring upon their unfufpecting prey. (day,
The musket's deadly found, or murder's fereams,

Alarm the flumb'rers, and break off their dreams.
They start, and struggle, but in vain the strife,
To fave their own, a child's, or parent's life,
Or dearer ftill, a tender bleeding wife.
Now mingling blood with blood, confus'd they
And blended in promifcuous carnage lie. (die,
Brains, heart, and bowels, fwim in ftreams of gore,
Belmear the walls, and mingle on the floor.
Men, children, houfes, cattle, harvests, all,
In undiftinguishing deftruction fall.
Th'infernal favages lift up the yell,

And roufe the terrors of the loweft hell:
Suck the fresh wound, in bloody puddles fwill,
And thence imbibe a fjercer rage to kill.
From the raw fcull the hairy fcalp they tear,
And the dire pledge in favage triumph wear.

But fee! on Mononghala's fatal banks,
Blood flow in larger ftreams, and thicker ranks
of heroes fall. Unfortunately brave,
Braddock alone was honour'd with a grave;
A hafty grave, in confternation made,
And there, uncoffin'd and unfhrouded, laid.
There Halket, Shirley, there a numerous band
Of brave Virginians, (oh! ay native land!
How great thy lois! yet greater thy renown
To call these brave heroic fouls thy own).
Ah! there they fell, to wolves and bears a prey,
Or human favages, more fierce than they.
Some lifeless; wounded fome; fome feek to fly,
There men and feeds in common ruin lie;
In vain; the feulking favages fortake
Their thickets; and their thirft of blood to flake,
Like furious lions, rush into the field,
To butcher thofe not mercifully kill'd.
Now direr terrors o'er the wounded fpread,
They envy now their fellow foldiers dead. -
For fimple death, or death by hands of men,
Was now a privilege they with'd in vain.

Now

Now horrid fhrieks, and dying groans and cries,
Mix'd with wild fhouts of Indian triumphs rife :
Tygers and bears felt pity at the found, (round.
And wilds, and vales, and mountains trembled
The dying now just ope' the closing eye,
And tawny murd'rers hov'ring o'er them fpy.
The ear juft ftopt in death perceives their yell,
And trembles left it be the cry of hell.
The wounded feel the blow that ends the ftrife,]
Extinguishing the faint remains of life, (knife:
And kindly leaves them fenfelefs to the fcalping
Infernal weapon!- Death o'erfpreads the plain
With heaps of carnage: play'rs and tears are vain.
Loud cries for mercy vengeance but provoke,
And fupplicating hands but tempt the stroke.
The bended knee but stoops to take the blow,
As hell itself, implacable's the foc.
There tofs'd in heaps, or scatter'd o'er the plain,
Naked, unburied, lie the mighty flain.
The foil is with their blood luxuriant grown,
And still their bones lie whitening in the fun.
There birds of prey long fed, and wheel'd their
flight;

And favage beafts carous'd and howl'd by night.
Oh fatal spot! with thee be nam'd no more
Canne, Pharfalia, wash'd with Roman gore:
There men with men, here hellish furies fight,
Riot in flaughter, and in blood delight.—

PROLOGUES and EPILOGUE to Douglas. PROLOGUE I. Spoken at Edinburgh. IN of came when Fredian word,

N days of claffic fame, when Perfia's lord

Flourish'd the ftate of Athens; small her ftore,
Rugged her foil, and rocky was her shore,
Like Caledonia's. Yet fhe gain'd a name
That flands unrivall'd in the rolls of fame.

Such proud pre-eminence not valour gave,
(For who than Sparta's dauntlefs fons more brave?)
But learning, and the love of every art,
That Virgin Pallas and the Mufe impart.

Above the reft the tragic Mufe admir'd, Each Attic breaft with nobleft paffions fir'd. In peace their poets with their hero's fhar'd Glory, the hero's, and the bard's reward. The tragic Mufe each glorious record kept, And o'er the kings fhe conquer'd, Athens wept' Here let me cafe; impatient for the scene, To you I need not praife the tragic queen. Oft has this audience foft compaffion fhewn, To woes of heroes, heroes not their own: This night our feenes no common tear demand, He comes, the hero of your native land! DOUGLAS, a name thro' all the world renown'd, A name that roufes like the trumpet's found! Oft have your fathers, prodigal of life,

A Douglas follow'd through the bloody ftrife; Hofts have been known at that dread name to yield,

And, Douglas dead, his name hath won the field.
Liften attentive to the various tale,
Mark if the author's kindred-feelings fail.
Sway'd by alternate hopes, alternate fears,
He waits the teft of your congenial tears.

* See the Perfai of Aschylus.

If they fhall flow, back to the Muse he flies,
And bids your heroes in fucceffion rife;
Collects the wand'ring warriors as they roam;
Douglas affures them of a welcome home.

PROLOGUE II. Spoken at Covent-Garden.
N ancient times, when Britain's trade was arms,
And the lov'd mulie of her youth, alarms;
A godlike race fuftain'd fair England's fame:
Who has not heard of gallant PIER CY's name?
Ay, and of DOUGLAS? Such illustrious foes
In rival Rome and Carthage never rose!
From age to age bright fhone the British fire,
And ev'ry hero was a hero's fire.

When powerful fate decreed one warrior's doom,
Up fprung the phoenix from his parent's tomb.
But whilft thefe generous rivals fought, and fell,
Thefe generous rivals lov'd each other well.
Though many a bloody field was lost and won,
Nothing in hate, in honour all was done. (peers,
When PIERCY wrong'd, defy'd his prince or
Faft came the DOUGLAS with his Scottish fpears;
And when proud DOUGLAS made his king his foe,
For DOUGLAS, PIERCY bent his English bow.
Expell'd their native homes by adverse fate,
They knock'd alternate at each other's gate;
Then blaz'd the caftle at the midnight-hour,
For him whofe arms had fhook its firmeft tower.
This night a DOUGLAS your protection claims;
A wife! a mother! Pity's foftest names:
The ftory of her woes indulgent hear,
And grant your fuppliant all fhe begs — a tear.
In confidence the begs; and hopes to find
Each English breaft, like noble PIERCY's, kind.
EPILOGUE.

AN
With comic wit to, contradict the ftrain
Of tragedy, and make your forrows vain.
Sadly he fays, that pity is the beft,

Epilogue I afk'd; but not one word

Our bard will write. He vows, 'tis moft
abfurd

The nobleft paffion of the human breast:
For when its facred streams the heart o'erflow,
In gushes pleasure with the tide of woe;
And when its waves retire, like those of Nile,
They leave behind them such a golden foil,
That there the virtues without culture grow,
There the sweet bloffoms of affection blow.
These were his words:-void of delusive art
I felt them; for he spoke them from his heart,
Nor will I now attempt, with witty folly,
To chase away celestial Melancholy,

EPIGRAM.

AS dame Religion, in the shade,

Deep-mufing hung her facred head,
Approach'd the Mufe, and thus began:
Since I delight, you blefs the man,
Too long thus fep'rately we ftood;
Come, let us mix our common good;
Let Sion and Parnaffus jon,
Mine be thy weight, my fire be thine.
Agreed: the maids together roam,
And both live friendly in one Ho ME.