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From Mr. T. Broadbent, Treasurer of the Auxiliary Society for the Lynn District

Walsingham Circuit. Omitted in Sept. List
From Mr. John Forshaw, Treasurer of the Auxiliary
Society, for the Liverpool District

From Mr. Robert Spence, Treasurer of the Auxiliary
Society for the York District

A Friend, Donation. By Mr. Naylor

From Mr. Thomas Gillson, Treasurer of the Auxiliary
Society for the Newark Circuit

From Thomas Thompson, Esq. Treasurer of the
Auxiliary Society for the Hull District

£. s. d,

1942

105 9 0

120 0 0

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From Mr. George Osborn, Treasurer of the Auxiliary
Society for the Canterbury District
Canterbury/

Faversham

Deal
Rochester

Tenterden

From William Mawer and H. Holland, Esqrs. Treasurers of the Auxiliary Society for the Lincoln District

Spilsby Circuit

Alford ditto

From J. Bulmer, Esq. Treasurer of the Auxiliary Society for the London District

Joseph Bulmer, Esq. (Subscription)

Kentish Town Branch Society

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Deptford, Circuit, Rotherhithe Branch Society

25 17 8

Westminster

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City-Road

Do.

From Benjamin Sadler, Esq. Treasurer of the Auxiliary

Society for the Leeds District

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Knaresborough do.

60 0 0

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From Mr. John Bliss, Treasurer of the Auxiliary Society
for the Northampton District

From William Carne, Esq. Treasurer of the Auxiliary
Society for the Cornwall District

Penzance Circuit

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65 0 0

25 0 0

16 0 0

14 0 0

Falmouth ditto

St. Austle ditto

12 0 0 132 0 0

The Committee present their Thanks for the following acceptable presents to the Society: To Richard Fawcett, Esq. Bradford, for Articles for Missionaries: To Amicus, for a present for the Missionaries: To Mr. Thomas, Seminary, Portland Place, Cheltenham, for a present of books: And to a Friend in the Spalding Circuit, for presents for the children of the Mission Schools.

880

On the Insufficiency of Philosophy to render Mankind Virtuous?

AN IRREGULAR ODE.

I.

Come, Epictetus!* arm my breast
With thy impenetrable steel,

No more the wounds of grief to feel,
Nor mourn by others' woes deprest.
Oh teach my trembling heart
To scorn Affliction's dart;
Teach to mock the tyrant, Pain!
For see around me stand.
A dreadful murd'rous band,
I fly their cruel power in vain!
Here lurks Distemper's horrid train,
And there the Passions lift their flaming
brands.

Those with full rage my helpless body tear,
While these with daring hands
Against the immortal soul their impious
weapons rear.

II.

Where'er I turn, fresh evils meet my eyes,
Sin, sorrow, and disgrace
Pursue the human race!

There on the bed of sickness Virtue lies!
See Friendship bleeding by the sword
Of base Ingratitude!

See baleful Jealousy intrude,
And poison all the bliss that Love has stor❜d!
Oh! seal my ears against the piteous cry
Of Innocence distrest!

Nor let me shrink, when Fancy's eye
Beholds the guilty wretch's breast
Beneath the torturing pincers heave:
Nor for the num'rous wants of mis'ry grieve,
Which all-disposing Heav'n denies me to
relieve!

III.

No longer let my fleeting joys depend
On social, or domestic ties!
Superior let my spirit rise,

Nor in the gentle counsels of a friend,
Nor in the smiles of love, expect delight:

But teach me in myself to find
Whate'er can please or fill my mind,
Let inward beauty charm the mental sight;
Let godlike reason, beaming bright,
Chase far away each gloomy shade,
Till Virtue's heavenly form display'd,
And her divinest love possess me whole!
Alone shall captivate my soul.
IV.

But, ah! what means this impious pride,
Which heav'nly hosts deride!
Within myself does Virtue dwell?
Is all serene and beauteous there?
What mean these chilling damps of fear?
Tell me, Philosophy! Thou boaster, tell:
This god-like, all-sufficient mind,
Which, in its own perfection blest,
Defies the woes, or malice of mankind
To shake its self-possessing rest,

"An eminent Stoic Philosopher}

Is it not foul, weak, ignorant, and blind!

Oh man! from conscious Virtue's praise Fall'n, fall'n!-what refuge canst thou find!

What pitying hand again will raise

From naked earth thy grovelling frame! Ah! who will cleanse thy heart from spot of sinful blanie?

V.

But, see! what sudden glories from the sky
To my benighted soul appear,

And all the gloomy prospect cheer?
What awful form approaches nigh?
Awful yet mild as is the southern wind
That gently bids the forest nod.
Hark! thunder breaks the air, and angels
speak!

"Behold the Saviour of the world! behold
the Lamb of God!"

Ye sons of pride, behold his aspect meek!
The tear of pity on his cheek!
See in his train appear

Humility and Patience sweet,
Repentance, prostrate at his sacred feet,
Bedews with tears, and wipes thea with her
flowing hair!

VI.

What scenes now meet my wond'ring eyes!
What hallow'd grave,

By mourning maids attended round, Attracts the Saviour's steps? What heart-felt wound

His spotless bosom heaves with tender sighs?
Why weeps the Son belov'd, Omnipotent to

save?

But, lo! He waves his awful hand! The sleeping clay obeys his dread command. Oh Lazarus, come forth!-"Come forth and see "The dear effects of wond'rous love! "He at whose word the seas and rocks remove, "Thy Friend, thy Lord, thy Maker weeps for thee!"

VII.

Thy walls, Jerusalem, have seen thy King
In meekness clad, lament thy hapless fate!
Unquench'd his love, tho' paid with ruthles
hate!

O lost relentless Sion-Didst thou know

Who thus vouchsafes thy courts to tread. What loud Hosannas wouldst thou sing! How eager crown his honour'd head! Nor see, unmov'd, His kind paternal woe! Nor force His tears, His precious blood for the to flow !

VIII.

No more repine, my coward soul !
The sorrows of mankind to share,
Which He, who could the world control
Did not disdain to bear!

Check not the flow of sweet fraternal love,
By heaven's high King in bounty given,
Thy stubborn heart to soften and improve,
Thy earth-clad spirit to refine,
And gradual raise to love divine,
And wing its soaring flight to heaven!

Printed by T. CORDEUX, 14, City-Road, London.

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THE

METHODIST MAGAZINE,

FOR DECEMBER, 1820.

BIOGRAPHY.

To the Editor of the Methodist Magazine.
DEAR SIR,

The following abridgement of the life of that great and good man, Sir MATTHEW HALE, I have thought would be profitable to many of your readers. I am, Sir, yours respectfully, Kingsland, Feb. 11, 1819.

D. WATSON.

Some Account of the Life and Death of Sir Matthew Hale, Lord Chief Justice of England.

Matthew Hale was born at Alderley, in Gloucestershire, on the 1st of November, 1609. Great care was taken of his education, and his guardian intended to breed him to be a divine; and being inclined to the way of those then called Puritana, put him to some schools that were taught by them; and in the 17th year of his age, sent him to Magdalene-Hall, in Oxford, where Obadiah Sedgwick was his teacher.

He was an extraordinary proficient at school, and for some time at Oxford. But the stage-players coming thither, he was so much corrupted by seeing many plays, that he almost wholly forsook his studies.

The corruption of a young man's mind in one particular, generally draws on a great many more. So he, being now taken from his studies, and from that gravity of his deportment, which was formerly eminent in him, far beyond his years, became entangled in many of the vanities incident to youth, but still preserved a great probity of mind. He loved fine clothes, and delighted much in company; and, being of a strong, robust body, he was a great master at all those exercises that required much strength. He also learned to fence, in which he became so expert, that he worsted many of the masters of that art: but as he was exercising himself in them, a circumstance occurred that gave some hopes of better things.

VOL. XLIII. DECEMBER, 1820.

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