well done, but because it is such a record of barbarity and blood; such a terrible register of human folly and crime; and this is UNIVERSAL HISTORY.-Good God! where is even a ray of that wisdom that cometh from above? But I restrain my complaints-I bow in silence at what I cannot fathom.-Human wisdom is, I am sensible, but a few removes from ignorance. It becomes not the creature of a few days, who can see, and that very imperfectly, but a few links of an immense chain, to pronounce an opinion on a plan which only that whole chain embraces; to wait with patience, to trust with confidence, and to act with virtue, is the whole of man in the present state. As far as it is proper or possible in another, I doubt not but all difficulties will be cleared up, and all mazes fully unravelled.

Here let us stop, our reas'ning pride represt,

Act well our parts, and leave to Heaven the rest.

In the neighbourhood of Park-street and Berkley-square are several streets of still unfinished houses. They are the remains of, at least, an unfortunate speculation, and stand a monument of that rashness which, before it begins to build, does not count the cost. It is highly probable, however, that high as the terms were upon which the ground was purchased, had it not been for the palsying influence of war, the scheme would have answered, and those shells of habitations, which are now dropping into ruin, would have been the abode of many a wealthy family,

Before I attempt any description of Bristol, as it now is, I will give you a few "gleanings," of what it formerly was.

It is a very ancient place; some writers have asserted that it was founded about 380 years before Christ. It is certain that it was a place of some note under the Romans, but of the particulars of its history before the Norman conquest, we have little information that can be depended upon. That it has long been engaged in the slave trade, appears from the following passage, translated from an old life of Wulfstan, bishop of Worcester: "There is a town called Brickston, opposite to Ireland, and extremely convenient for trading with that country. Wulfstan induced them to drop a barbarous custom, which neither the love of God nor the king could prevail upon them to abandon this was the mart for slaves, collected from all parts of England, and particularly young women, whom they took care to provide with a pregnancy in order to enhance their value. It was a moving sight to behold, in the public market, rows of young people of both sexes, tied together with ropes, and daily prostituted and sold in the flower of youth and beauty. Execrable fact! Wretched disgrace! Men, unmindful of the affections of the brute creation, delivering into slavery their relations, and even their very offspring."

This shocking picture was drawn about the close of the eleventh century. Bristol has long

transferred its market to the West Indies; but change of place can make no difference in the moral turpitude, or the revolting consequences of this abominable traffic. We call ourselves an enlightened, a humane, a free, and a christian people, and yet we are deeply engaged in the slave trade!!! It is greatly to be lamented that Bishop Wulfstan has not left upon record the potent specifics by which he could control the cupidity of avarice, and arrest the power of a spirit which was proof against the pleadings of nature, the sentiment of loyalty, and the love of God.

Many have been the arguments and invectives which, both in prose and verse, have been poured forth against this execrable traffic. The follow ing, by the late Dr. Darwin, is full both of poetry and pathos. It is a passage in the Botanic Garden, and addressed to the legislators of our country;

"Hark! heard ye not that piercing cry,
Which shook the waves and rent the sky!
E'en now,
e'en now, on yonder western shores,
Weeps pale Despair, and writhing Anguish roars;
E'en now in Afric's groves, with hideous yell,
Fierce Slavery stalks, and slips the dogs of hell;
From vale to vale the gathering cries rebound,
And sable nations tremble at the sound!
YE BANDS OF SENATORS! whose suffrage sways
Britannia's realms, whom either Ind obeys;
Who right the injured and reward the brave,
Stretch your strong arm, for ye have power to save.
Thron'd in the vaulted heart, his dread resort,

Inexorable Conscience holds his court;

With still small voice the plots of guilt alarms,
Bares his mask'd brow, his lifted hand disarms;
But wrapp'd in night, with terrors all his own,
He speaks in thunder when the deed is done.
Hear him, ye senates; hear this truth sublime-
HE WHO ALLOWS OPPRESSION SHARES THE CRIME
No radiant pearl which crested fortune wears,
No gem that twinkling hangs from beauty's ears;
Not the bright stars which night's blue arch adorn,
Nor rising suns that gild the vernal morn,
Shine with such lustre-as the tear that breaks,
For other's woe, down virtue's manly cheeks."

The following poetical and spirited appeal to our feelings, connected with the same subject, is worthy the pen and the heart of its amiable authoress, Mrs. Hannah More:

"Perish th' illiberal thought which would debase The native genius of the sable race;

Perish the proud philosophy which sought
To rob them of the powers of equal thought!
Does then th' immortal principle within
Change with the casual colour of a skin?
Does matter govern spirit, or is mind
Degraded by the form to which 'tis join'd?

"No: they have heads to think, and hearts to feel,
And souls to act with firm though erring zeal;
For they have keen affections, kind desires,
Love strong as death, and active patriot fires;

All the rude energy, the fervid flame,

Of high-soul'd passion, and ingenuous shame :
Strong but luxuriant virtues boldly shoot

From the wild vigour of a savage root.

"Nor weak their sense of honour's proud control, For pride is virtue in a pagan soul;

A sense of worth, a conscience of desert,
A high, unbroken haughtiness of heart;

That self-same stuff which erst proud empires sway'd,
Of which the conquerors of the world were made;
Capricious fate of man! that very pride

In Afric scourg'd, in Rome was deify'd."

Bristol had very early a strong castle; it is said to have been built by Robert earl of Gloucester, a natural son of Henry I. in the reign of King Stephen. He was besieged in it by that prince before it was quite finished. Stephen was not able to take it, and was, some years after, imprisoned in it himself.

The opulence and trade of Bristol have always rendered it a place of importance, and it is no wonder that it has had a full share in the public events of our history. In the civil wars betwixt Charles I. and the Parliament, Bristol was alternately in the hands of the contending parties. On the 13th of July, 1643, the parliamentary forces, under the command of Waller the poet, were routed at Stratton. Waller, with only a few horse, escaped into Bristol. The victorious royalists immediately invested that city, and attempted to carry it by storm. The place being strongly fortified, and well supplied with provisions and military stores, the first assault was repelled with considerable loss on the side of the besiegers. At length Colonel Washington opening a passage for the horse, the suburbs were considered as no longer tenable; the parliamentary