on the 23d of April, 1795, judgment was pronounced by the Lords on the charges, most of them' severally, and Mr. Hastings was acquitted of them all.*

The unprecedented duration of the trial, was an evil, wherever the fault lay, of an enormous extent, both as it bore upon the public and Mr. Hastings, but it was more especially grievous to the latter. The expences to the public of this trial amounted to more than 100,000l.; and Mr. Hastings' law expences to more than 60,000l. In consideration of the latter, and of his services, the East India Company voted him an annual pension of 4000l. for twentyeight years and a half, amounting to 114,000l. of which the company gave him 42,000l. in advance, and lent him beside 50,000l. And it is just to observe, that the company took other measures to declare their belief of his innocence.

Mr. Hastings is said to be a good architect and engineer. His literary attainments are certainly very extraordinary for a man who passed more than thirtythree years of his life in active scenes of business in

* Twenty-nine were the greatest number of peers who voted on this occasion. On the first article of the impeachment twentythree voted not guilty, and six guilty. On two of the articles the vote of not guilty was unanimous. The Lord Chancellor pronounced the judgment in the following words, "Warren Hast"ings, Esq. I am to acquaint you that you are ACQUITTED "of the ARTICLES of IMPEACHMENT, &c. exhibited against you by the House of Commons, for High Crimes and "Misdemeanors, and all things contained therein, and you are "discharged, paying your fees."

1799-1800

PP

such

such a service as that of the East India Company, and who entered their service before he was seventeen. Mr. Hastings is now in the 66th year of his

age.

We shall conclude this memoir with the following elegant specimen of Mr. Hastings' poetical powers. It is a rare instance that a man unites in his own person, various talents, in so great a degree of excellence. This beautiful imitation of the OTIUM Divos of Horace, is said to have been written while on his passage to England, in 1785.

For ease the harrassed seaman prays,
When equinoctial tempests raise

The Cape's surrounding wave;
When hanging o'er the reef he hears
The cracking mast, and sees or fears,
Beneath, his watʼry grave.
For ease the slow Mahratta spoils,
And hardier Seik erratic toils,
While both their ease forego;
For ease, which neither gold can buy,
Nor robes, nor gems, which oft bely
The cover'd heart, bestow.

For neither gold nor gems combin'd
Can heal the soul or suffering mind.

Lo

where their owner lies:

Perch'd on his couch Distemper breathes,
And Care, like smoke, in turbid wreaths,
Round the gay ceiling flies.

He who enjoys, nor covets more,
The lands his father held before,

Is of true blifs possess'd;

Let but his mind unfetter'd tread,
Far as the paths of knowledge lead,

And wise, as well as blest.

No

Lest printed lies his fame destroy,

Which labor'd years have won;
Nor pack'd Committees break his rest,
Nor avarice sends him forth in quest
Of climes beneath the Sun.

Short is our span; then why engage
In schemes for which man's transient age
Was ne'er by fate design'd?

Why slight the gifts of Nature's hand?
What wanderer from his native land
E'er left himself behind?

The restless thought and wayward will,
And discontent, attend him still,
Nor quit him while he lives;
At sea, Care follows in the wind;
At land, it mounts the pad behind,
Or with the post-boy drives.
He who would happy live to-day,
Must laugh the present ills away,

Nor think of woes to come;
For come they will, or soon or late,
Since mix'd at best is man's estate,

By Heav'n's eternal doom.

To ripen'd age CLIVE liv'd renown'd,
With lacks enrich'd, with honours crown'd,
His valour's well-earn'd meed.

Too long, alas! he liv'd to hate

His envied lot, and died too late,
From life's oppression freed.
An early death was ELLIOTT's doom;
I saw his opening virtues bloom,
And manly sense unfold,

Too soon to fade. I bade the stone

Record his name, 'midst hordes unknown,

Unknowing what it told.

To thee, perhaps, the Fates may give,

I wish they may, in health to live,

Herds,

Herds, flocks, and fruitful fields;
Thy vacant hours in mirth to shine;
With these the Muse, already thine,
Her present bounty yields.

For me, O SHORE, I only claim,
To merit, not to seek for, fame,
The good and just to please;

A state above the fear of want,

Domestic love, Heaven's choicest grant,
Health, leisure, peace, and ease.

FINIS.

T. Gillet, Printer,
Salisbury Square, Fleet Street.

On Saturday the 30th of November will be published,
In two Volumes, 8vo. Price 14s. in Boards,

LETTERS FROM ITALY,
BETWEEN THE YEARS 1792 AND 1798;
Containing a View of the

REVOLUTIONS IN THAT COUNTRY, From the Capture of NICE by the French Republic to the Expulsion of PIUS VI. from the Ecclesiastical State: Likewise pointing out

The matchless Works of Art which still embellish PISA, FLORENCE, SIENA, ROME, NAPLES, BOLOGNA, VENICE, &c. &c.

Who

With Instructions for the Use of

INVALIDS AND FAMILIES

may not choose to incur the Expence attendant upon travelling with a COURIER.

BY MARIANA STARKE,

Author of The Widow of Malabar, The Tournament, &c.