CHARACTER OF PITT. (ROBERTSON.) The secretary stood alone. : modern degeneracy had not reached him. | Original, and unaccommodating, the features of his character, had the hardihood of antiquity. His august mind over-awed majesty; and one of his sovereigns thought royalty so impaired in his presence, that he conspired to remove him in order to be relieved from his superiority. No state chica nery, no narrow system of vicious politics, no idle contest for ministerial vic'tories, sunk him to the vulgar level of the great; | but over-bearing, persuasive, and impracticable, | his object was England, his ambition was fame.. | Without dividing, he destroyed party; | without corrupting, he made a venal age unanimous. France sunk beneath him. With one hand he smote the house of Bourbon, and wielded in the other, the democracy of England. The sight of his mind was infinite; and his schemes were to affect, not England, not the present age only, but Europe, and posterity. | Wonderful were the means by which these schemes were accomplished always seasonable, I always adequate, | the suggestions of an understanding animated by ardour, and enlightened by prophecy. I The ordinary feelings which make life amiable, and indolent, were unknown to him. No domestic difficulties, no domestic weakness reached, him; but, aloof from the sordid occurrences of life, and unsullied by its intercourse, he came occasionally into our system, to counsel, and to decide. I A character so exalted, so strenuous, so various, | so authoritative, | astonished a corrupt age- and the treasury trembled at the name of Pitt through all her classes of venality. Corruption imagined, indeed,| She-ka'når-rè. • Untractable. • Såv'er-int. and that she had found defects' in this statesman, talked much of the inconsistency of his glory, and much of the ruin of his victories; but the history of his country, and the calamities of the enemy, | answered, and refuted her. | Nor were his political abilities his only talents: | his eloquence was an era in the senate, peculiar, and spontaneous, familiarly expressing gigantic sentiments, and instinctive wis.dom; not like the torrent of Demosthenes, or the splendid conflagration of Tul·ly; | it resembled sometimes the thunder, and sometimes the music of the spheres. Like Murray, he did not conduct the understanding through the painful subtlety of argumentation; nor was he, like Townshend, | for ever on the rack of exertion; but rather lightened upon the subject, and reached the point by the flashings of the mind', which, like those of his eye, were felt, but could not be followed. Upon the whole, there was in this man | something that would create', | subvert', or reform; | an understanding, a spirit, and an eloquence, to summon mankind to society, or to break the bonds of slavery asun der, something to rule the wilderness of free minds with unbounded authority; something that could establish, or overwhelm empire, and strike a blow in the world, that should resound through the universe. | CLARENCE'S DREAM. (SHAKSPEARE.) SCENE - A Room in the Tower of London. [Enter CLARENCE and BRACKENBURY.] Brack. Why looks your grace so heav'ily to-day? | So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, | I would not spend another such a night, | Brack. What was your dream, my lord? I pray you, tell me. Clar. Methought that I had broken from the tow'er, And had embark'd to cross to Burgundy; | And, in my company, my brother Gloster, | Upon the hatches; thence we look'd toward England, | Methought that Gloster stumbled, and, in falling, O methought what pain it was to drown.! | All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea. [ 'Some lay in dead men's skulls.; and, in those holes Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept, (As 't were in scorn of eyes) | reflecting gems' | That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep,! And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by. I Brack. Had you such leisure in the time of death, ↑ To gaze upon these secrets of the deep'? Clar. Methought I had; and often did I strive Brack Awak'd you not with this sore ag'ony? O then began the tempest to my soul: | I pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood | The first that there did greet my stranger soul, | Brack. No marvel, lord, that it affrighted you- | I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it. Clar. O Brackenbury, I have done these things | For Edward's sake; and, see how he requites me!- Brack. I will, my lord. | [Clarence reposes himself on a chair. Sorrow breaks seasons, and repo'sing hours, | Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night., | Princes have but their titles for their glories An outward honor for an inward toil; | And, for unfelt imaginations, They often feel a world of restless cares. :| So that, between their titles, and low name, | There's nothing differs but the outward fame., TO THE URSA MAJOR. (H. WARE, JUN.) With what a stately, and majestic step | | stern, The other tribes forsake their midnight track, Thy long-appointed watch; but, sleepless still, Ages have witness'd thy devoted trust, | Join'd the high chorus; from thy radiant orbs | Ages have roll'd their course; and time grown grey;! |