The following lines were written by the late worthy Gilbert White, brother to Mr White the eminent bookseller, and author of the natural history and antiquities of Selborne, in the county of Southamp

ton.

ON THE DARK, STILL, DRY, WARM WEATHER OCCASIONALLY HAP

PENING IN THE WINTER AND SPRING MONTHS.

For the Bee.

Th' imprison'd winds slumber within their caves
Fast bound: the fickle vane, emblem of change,
Wavers no more; long settling to a point.

All nature nodding seems compos'd: thick steams
From land, from flood updrawn, dimming the day,
“ Like a dark ceiling stand:" slow through the air
Gofsamer floats, or stretch'd from blade to blade
The wavy network whitens all the field.
Push'd by the weightier atmosphere, upsprings
The pond'rous Mercury, from scale to scale
Mounting, along the Torricellian tube :
While high in air, and pois'd upon his wings
Unseen, the soft enamour'd wood-lark runs
Through all his maze of melody; the brake
Loud with the blackbird's bolder note resounds.
-Sooth'd by the genial warmth, the cawing rook
Anticipates the spring, selects her mate,
Haunts her tall nest-trees, and with sedulous care
Repairs her wicker eyrie, tempest-torn.
The ploughman inly smiles to see upturn
His mellow giebe, best pledge of future crop :
With glee the gardner eyes his smoaking beds:
Ev'n pining sickness feels a short relief.
The happy school-boy brings transported forth
His long forgotten scourge and giddy gigg":
O'er the white paths he whirls the rolling hoop,
Or triumphs in the dusty fields of Taw.
Not so the thoughtful sage. Abroad he walks
Contemplative; if haply he may find

What cause controuls the tempest's rage, or whence
Amidst the savage season winter smiles.-
For days, for weeks, prevails the placid calm.
At length some drops prelude a change: the sun
With ray refracted bursts the parting gloom;
When all the chequer'd fky is one bright glare.
With angry aspect scowls; down rush the showers
And float the delug'd path's and miry fields.

The following stanzas written by Thomson on the blank leaf of a copy of his seasons were sent by him to the good lord Lyttelton soun after the death of his Lucy.

The following lines found in a blank leaf of that copy of the Man of Feeling which belonged to Mr Granger, author of the Biographical History of England, it is believed were never in print. If you think them deserving a place in the Bee, they are much at your service

TO THE AUTHOR OF THE MAN OF FEELING.

W.

WHILST other writers with pernicious art,
Corrupt the morals, and seduce the heart;
Raise lawless pafsions, loose desires infuse,
And boast their knowledge gathered from the stews.
Be thine the task, such wishes to countroul,
To touch the gentler movements of the soul;
To bid the breast with generous ardours glow,
To teach the tear of sympathy to flow;
We hope, we fear, we swell with virtuous rage
As various pafsions animate the page.
What sentiments the soul of Harley move?
The softest piety the purest love';

Congenial virtues dwell in Walton's mind,
Form'd her mild graces, and her taste refin'd.
Their flame was such as heaven itself inspires,
As high, as secret as the vestal fires ;

But ah! too late revealed;-with parting breath,
He owns its mighty force, and smiles in death.
His soul spontaneous seeks her kindred sky,
Where charity and love can never die.

A SINGULAR ADVENTURE WRITTEN BY M

TO ONE OF

HIS FRIENDS.

I am going, dear friend, to intrust you with a dreadful secret, which I can tell no body but you. The marriage of Mademoiselle de Vildac with the young Sainville took place yesterday; as a neighbour I was obliged to be there. You know M. de Vildac; he has an inauspicious physiognomy which I always feared. I observed him yesterday in the midst of all these festivals: far from taking a share in the happiness of his son-in-law and daughter, the joy of the rest seemed to be a load to him. When it was time to retire, I was conducted to an apartment at the foot of the great tower. I had scarcely fallen asleep when I was awaked by an indistinct noise behind my head. I listened, and heard some body dragging chains, and who was descending softly some steps. At the same time a door of my chamber opened: the noise of chains, redoubled. He who carried them advanced towards the chimney; he approached some coals half extinguished, and said in a deadly voice, “Ah! how long it is since I have warmed myself!" I confefs to you my friend I was affrighted. I seized my sword to be able to defend myself: I opened gently my By the light which the coals gave, I perceived an old man chained, and half naked, with a bald head and a white beard. He held his trembling hands to the cinders. That sight moved me. Whilst I was considering it, the wood produced a flame: he had his eyes turned towards the door by which he had entered, and was abandoning himself to the most bitter lamentations. In a moment he kneeled down upon his knees, struck his head against the floor; and I heard him in the midst of

curtains.

sobs to utter, My God! O my God!" At that moment the curtains of the bed made a noise; he turned round with the greatest terror: "Is there any person, said he, is there any person in that bed?" • Yes, replied I, at the same time opening the curtains wide, but who are you!' His tears hindered him from answering me for a considerable time; at length he became more calm. "I am, said he, the most miserable of mortals. Perhaps I ought not to tell you more; but for these many years I have not seen a human being, and the pleasure of speaking to a fellow creature opens my mouth. Fear nothing: come and sit down beside the fire. Have pity upon me; you will soften the rigour of my fate in hearing my misfortunes." The fright which his first appearance had put me in, gave place to compassion. I arose and sat down beside him ; this mark of confidence 'gave him courage. He took hold of my hand and moistened it with his tears. "Generous man, said he, begin first by satisfying my curiosity, tell me how you came to lodge in this apartment, which has hitherto been uninhabited; what means that terrible din and unusual bustle which I heard this morning in the castle?" When I told him it was occasioned by the marriage of Vildac's daughter, he raised his hand towards heaven, " Vildac a daughter and married Just God! O make her happy!

but above all allow her to be ignorant of her father's Know then, benevolent stranger who I am

A crimes.

You speak to the father of Vildac

❤

of

the cruel Vildac.-But ought I to complain of him? Is there no one but a father to accuse him."

'What, cried I with astonishment, is Vildac your son; and does the monster imprison you here in such misery, load you with chains, and seclude you so long from th world?"

327 "Behold, replied he, in my sufferings, the fatal effects of self interestednefs. Feeling is an utter stranger in the hard and savage heart of my son. Insensible to the ties of kindred, he has lent a deaf ear to the cry of nature: in order to be the sooner in pofsefsion of my fortune he has loaded me with irons.

ses.

"One day he paid a visit to a neighbouring lord who had lately lost his father; he found him surrounded with his vafsals, busied in receiving rents and in granting leaThat sight had a dreadful effect upon the mind of Vildac. The thirst for receiving his patrimony had been devouring him for a long time past. I remarked at his return that he had a graver and more reserved countenance than usual. Fifteen days after, three men in mafks carried me off during the night. After having stripped me of every thing, they took me into this tower. I am ignorant of what means Vildac took to publish the report of my death; but I guefsed by the ringing of belis. and other mournful ceremonies, that he was celebrating my funeral. The idea of this ceremony plunged me into a most profound melancholy. I in vain afked, as a fayour, to be permitted to speak with Vildac: those who brought me food, looked upon me, no doubt, as a crimimal condemned to perish in this tower. I have now been here almost twenty years. I perceived, this morning, that in bringing me my morsel, they had fhut my door carelesly. I have waited till night to profit by their negligence; I do not wish to make iny escape, but a few paces of more liberty is always some consideration for a prisoner "

'No, cried I, you fhall quit this unworthy mansion; Heaven has sent me to be your deliverer :-let us depart immediately all is in silence. I fhall be your defender,

:

your support, and your guide. "

Ah, said he to me, after