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From the ORATORIO of SAUL.

Compofed by Mr Handel.

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While yet the

tide of blood runs high, To God thy future life

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Publifhed by Alex. Hogg, No 16, Paternofter Row, London.

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REAT God! thou guardian of each
hour,

Thou guide of all my ways;
My morning eps confefs thy pow'r,
And night proclaims thy praife.

The fecret purpose of my foul
Is to thy wifdom known;
Thine eve directs walk by day,
And fees my lying down.

my

On ev'ry fide I find thy hand,

Where'er I turn my view;
And, 'ere my lips could fpeak my heart,
Thou, Lord, my meaning knew.

Vainly to trace fuch wondrous love,
My grov'ling reafon tries;
Fruitless attempt! my ftricteft fearch,
Th' amazing fubject flies.

Should hell infpire the blackened thought,
From thee my God to hide;
Where fhould a helpless mortal go,
In fecret to abide.

If I to heav'n direct my courfe,

There thy full glories fhine;

And hell's dark prifon feels thy arm,
And owns the wrath divine.

If with the mornings early light,
I feek the western sea;

There fhall thine hand detect my flight,
And difappoint my stay.

If favour'd with the ev'ning fhades,
I court the rayless night;
The gloom difpers'd, at thy command,
Shall yield me to thy fight.

Darkness and light, to thee the fame,

Fulfil thy great defign;

And funs, and fhades, before their God, With equal brightness thine,

Before that God, whofe piercing eye,
This curious frame furvey'd;
And in my embrio-ftate his skill,
In every part display'd.

Thy boundless thought contriv'd the scheme,
And each proportion plann'd ;
Before the clay, my future frame,
Was fathioned by thy hand.
How hall my tongue defcribe my
Or paint the love I bear;
Or court the num'rous thanks I owe,
For thy furrounding care!

foul,

Lefs num'rous are the countlefs fands,

That fwell the lengthen'd fhore;
And in the morning when I wake,
I find the number more.

Search me, O God! with strictest view,
Explore each fecret part;
Know the receffes of my Youl,

And frailties of my heart!

If error clouds my darken'd mind,
Remove the difmal gloom;
Conduct me with a Father's hand,
And bring thy fervant home.

ΤΟ THE EDITORS OF

THE NEW CHRISTIAN'S MAGAZINE.
Gentlemen,

THE following elegant lines were copied from a monument 111 Bristol cathedral, erected to the memory of a pious young clergyman, who departed this life in the year 1773. The depofiting them in your valuable, work, will doubtlefs please your readers, and will much oblige,

Your most fincere well-wisher,
November 4, 1783.
W. W

W embellish'd urn,

HEN worthlefs grandeur fills the

No poignant grief attends the fable bier : But when diftinguith'd excellence we mourn, Deep is the forrow, genuine's the tear. Stranger, fhouldst thou draw near this awful fhrine,

The merits of the honour'd dead to feek :The Friend, the Son, the Chriftian, the

Divine,

Let thofe who knew him, those who lov'd him, fpeak.

Oh! let them in fome paufe of anguish fay, What zeal infpir'd, what faith enlarg'd

his breaft;

How foon th' unfetter'd spirit wing'd its way, From earth to heav'n, from bleffing to be

bleft.

HOPE.

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Remember Death!

BY THE SAME.

HE drunkard doth himself refign,
To chearful friends and generous
wine,

The atheifts boaft that there's no God,
Nor heeds, nor fears his vengeful rod,
The gay ones riot in excess

Of earthly and uncertain blifs;
The avaricious lays faft hold
On all the tranfient charms of gold;
The tyrant with defpotic fway,
Makes man his beaft his will t'obey,
The murderer rolls in human blood,"
Thus finners fly in the face of God,
Whilft wisdom's voice in ev'ry breath,
Cries aloud, Oh man! prepare for death!

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HAPPY, highly favour'd maid,

From the noife of folly fled,

Like the filver-pinion'd dove,
To the land of peace and love.
Not a moment would't thou stay,
When thou heard 'ft thy Saviour fay,
"Rife, may fair one, come away."
Knowing, if thou didit repair
To holy folitude and pray'r,'

He who call'd would meet thee there.
In retirement thou shalt know
Joys religion can bestow.
She thall of them all partake,
Who could earthly joys forfake;
Youthful pleafures who could fly,
(Crackling thorns that blaze and die;}
And in bloom of beauty thew'd
How to quit the world for CoD.
In the fill fequefter'd hour
Gay delufions tempt no more.
Pride and envy foon are dead,
Wantonnefs and folly Aed.
In whofe places we may fee
The lovely grace humility,
As at Bethle'm the was 'py'd,
Waiting by the manger's fide:
Charity from heav'n defcending,
Hand and heart to all extending
Innocence as noon, day bright,
All array'd in lily white:
Wifdom born and bred on high,
Guide of mortals to the fky,
Still, with fweet, tho' penfive look,
Mufing on the mystic book.
All of thefe we feek in vain
In the bufy hum of men.

They thun the mad fantastic croud,
Giddy, thoughtlefs, light, and loud.
In the mind preferv'd fedate,
Meek, and quiet, they are met:
And in bofoms, fuch as thine,
All with beams united thine.

Let the world in funcering tone
Ridicule and ceafure on,
'Till in men and angels fight
Death and judgment prove thee right,
And manifeft to ev'ry heart,
Thou hast chofe the better part.
Happy, highly favour'd maid,
From the noife of folly fled!

IN

ACADEMICUS.

GRATITUDE TO GOD FOR PROVIDEN

Ο

TYAL MERCIES.

God my heart to thee afcends,
Its maker and its king;

And owns thy goodness far tranfcends
The praifes I can bring:

My fcanty praifes, Lord, how mean!
How defpicably poor!
For all the gifts thy bounties bring,
And make my cup run o'er?

While many of thy dearest faints,

And better far than I,
Pour out their piteous fad complaints,
And pierce us with their cry!

While in their fouls th' invenom'd darts
Of bitter anguish lie,

Or cruth'd by mifery, their hearts
Groan their laft gafp and die;

Lord! what am I, my God, my King!
That I thy grace thou'd prove!
Should tune a chearful note and fing
Thy previdential love!

Lord what am I, or what are mine,

That thou fo kind fhouldft be; Shouldt lavish all thefe gifts of thine,

On fuch a wretch as me!

O'er dimpling waves my little bark,
Thy gentle fpirit bears,
Protects from adverfe ftorms my heart,
And keeps my head from cares.

O! may this head to know thy will
Continually improve!

O may that heart be fervent ftill,

And flame with heav'nly love! Thus gliding down life's gentle stream May I advance to thee; "Till fafe I launch with heart ferene, On vaft eternity.

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RELIGION.

O what fequefter'd lone retreat,
Lov'd nymph, doft thou direct thy feet.
Far diftant from the noify crowd,
The great, the bufy and the proud;
Doft thou refide in cavern boar,
With fages vers'd in myftic lore?

Ah no! The friend of God and man,
Far, far fuperior is thy plan;
"Tis thine to footh the widow's figh,
Tis thine the orphan's tear to dry:
To raife diftrefs's drooping head,
To give the naked cloaths and bread.
When forrows o'er the mind prevail,
Thy balm celeftial fhall not fail;
Thy faithful fervants, after death,
Thou crown'ft with glory's lafting wreath.
Still, fill difplay thy facred art,
And warm and animate the heart.

CONTENT.

AIL, fweet content! whofe magic pow'r

HAIL,

Can blunt misfortune's keeneft dart,
And when black fkies with tempeft lour,
Serene and chearful guard the heart,*
All gracious, hither urge thy way,
And make my breast thy dearest cell
My mind protect from dire difmay,
And round me fpread thy potent spell.
Inftead of pride, which now confumes,
And wears my fpirits by her cares,
At fancied flights fall idly fumes,
The victim of her peevish airs.

Good humour then ftill, blithe and free
Defpifing pomp and hating ftrife,
Shall crown with gay hilarity

The circling periods of my life.
Inftead of envy's baleful train,

That mourn amid fair plenty's ftore;` If heaven's funshine, or its rain, Pour greater at a neighbour door:

Benevolence, with heart humane, Wishing all happy as herself, Shall then extract from thy rich mean, Gold far more precious than mere pelf. S. PG.

S

LITUDE.

WEET companion of the mufe,
Lovely Solitude, appear;

All thy calm content infufe,
Soften anguish, banish care:

Lead me, O majestic queen,
Through the aromatic scene.
Nature's copied here by art,
Joyful we the fraud confefs,
Yet fo clofe performs her part,
'Tis but nature's better dress;

Solitude, here fix thy feat,
Here in Cowley's foft retreat.
Teach me all the healing pow'rs,
Of each plant and every trees
Say how fhort-liv'd are the flowers;
Bring the moral home to me.

Did me fleeting life defpife! Make me humble, make me wife. Stretch me on the verdant mead, Where the murm'ring river flows, Where the elm expands her thade, And each rifing beauty blows; There I'll lay in peace of mind, "Empty greatnefs, fall behind," Pride within thy humble cell, Never yet uprear'd her head; Solitude, with thee I'll dwell, Pride with me is long fince deed. Cold to pleasure, deaf to praife, Here I with to end my days.

LIST

1

LIST OF NEW BOOKS,

WITH REMARKS.

DIVINITY, MORALITY, &c.

ART. 1. A Charge delivered to the Clergy of the Archdeaconry of St. Alban's, at a Vifitation bolden May 22, 1783. By the Rev. Samuel Horfley, L. L. D. F. R. S. Published (with additions) at the Request of the Clergy. 4to. 35.

T

HIS learned and excellent writer, after an introduction full of refpect for the clerical function, enters upon the difcuffion of, and points out in a masterly manner, but with a true Chriftian fpirit, the mistakes, mifconftructions, and evil tendency of Dr. Priestley's Hiftory of the Corruptions of Chriftianity. Having done this, Dr. Horley concludes with the following candid declaration: "I feel no fatisfaction in detecting the weakneffes of this learned writer's argument, but what arifes from a confciouf-, nefs, that it is a difcharge of fome part of the duty which I owe to the church of God. It is a mortifying proof of the infirmity of the human mind, in the highest improvement of its faculties in the prefentlife, that fuch fallacies of reafoning, fuch mifconftructions of authorities, fuch diftorted views of facts and opinions, fhould be found in the writings of a man, to whom, of men in the prefent age, fome branches of the experimental fciences are the most indebted.20

ART. II, The Beauties of Methodifm, felected from the Works of the Rev. John Wesley, A. M. 12mo. 2s. 6d.

An excellent half crown ordinary for the; lovers of incoherent nonfenfe. We know the frequenters of the foundery love to be up and doing; and as this favory fpiritual treat from works of boneft John's preparing, it cannot but, it must be, fuitable to dainty palates.

ART III. A Sermon on Matthew v. 18. By Henry Dimock, M. A. Vicar of ChippingNorton, and late of Pembroke College, 4to. Is.

In this difcourfe is an emendation of a text in Ezekiel xxvii. 17. According to our

English verfion, the prophet is made to fay, "They (the Tyrians) were thy merchants; they traded in thy market wheat of Minnith and Pannag, and honey, and oil, and balm.” The author fuppofes Minniib and Pannag to be a corrupt reading; and would fubftitute in their place Zith, Upbag; the text he would, then render" They traded in thy market wheat, the Olive, and the Fig, &c." Which articles of trade the writer thinks were the commodities of Canaan; and fit fubjects of commerce with Tyrian met

chants.

ART. IV. Vicarious Sacrifice: or, the reality and importance of Atonement for Sin by the Death of Cbrift, afferted and defended, against the Obj ions of Dr. Priestley. By R. Ellie, A. B. 8vo. 2s. 6d.

That the corruptors of Chriflianity are not fuffered to adminifter their baneful poi fon, without fufficient antidotes being at the fame time pointed out by the faithful labourers in the vineyard of their mafter, muft be, in our opinion, afcribed to the fpecial grace of God, and his providential care in the prefervation of his church. Chrift has here, we fee, raised up another advocate to fupport the facred truths of his gofpel; which we think Mr. Elliot has done with a fpirit, perfpicuity, and fome ftrength of

argument.

ART. V. A New Tranflation of St. Paul's Epifle to the Hebrews, from the Original Greek, with explanatory Notes. By Samuet Hardy, Rector of Little Blakenbam, in Saffolk, and Lecturer of Enfield, in Middlesex, 8vo. Is. 6d.

This author is too whimfical for a faithful tranflator, or juft expofitor. He dif covers much prejudice, little candour; and in fome parts of his tranflation the original meaning of the text is either obfcured or perverted.

CHRO

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