Thomson's House at Richmond. 



[Feb, I, 



pleasing retiienient, and allured by the music of the nightingale,— which warbled in soft 

 unison to the melody of his soul,— in nnatfected clieerfiilncss, and genial, though simple, 

 ele'anee, lived James Thomson. Sensibly alive to all the beauties of Nature, he painted 

 then- images as they rose in review, and poured the whole profusion of them into his 

 inimitable 'Seasons.' Warmed with intense devotion to the Sovereign of the Universe, 

 —its flame glowing throughout all his compositions,— animated with unbounded bene- 

 volence, with the tenderest social sensibility, he never gave one moments pam to .iny 

 of his fellow creatures, save by his death ; which happened at this place on the y7th of 

 August, 1748." 



From this liaimt of the Muses the gardener took lis to a large stimmer-house, in the 

 corner of which was another table belonging to Thomson, on which he finished the 

 " Seasons.'' If had a capacious drawer, but the whole was old and decayed, evidently 

 affected by the humidity of the atmosphere. It was small and oblong, like a chamber 

 dressing-table. The grounds, though not large, are kept in admirable order, enriched 

 and adorned with trees from the most distant part of the world. Among other choice 

 exotics, the acacia and sassafras trees, with the silver cedar and the lofty rcdais of 

 Lebanon, commanded our admiration. It is a paradisaical spot. Well may the poet 

 have here listened by the hour, even till midnight, to the song of the nightingale in 

 Richmond Gardens. Delicious were our recollections of the bard. Being a fine simi- 

 mer's morning, when every object is beauty to the eye, and every sound music to the 

 ear, — his conclusion of the '' Hymn to the Seasons'' rushed upon my mind : — 

 L cannot go 



Where Universal Love smiles not around. 



Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their suns. 



From seeming evil still educing good, 



And better thence again, and better still, 



In infinite progression. But I lose 



Myself in Him,— in light inelfable 



Come then, — expressive silence muse his praise! 



At this distance of time (seventy-four years ago,) it is impossible to ascertain the 

 particulars of Thomson's last illness and dissolution. All row known is, that the poet, 

 walking homewards from the metropolis, took boat at Hammersmith, by which he 

 caught cold, when a fever produced a fatal termination. He lies buned in Richmond 

 Church, about half a mile from the house where he expired ; and the Earl of Buchau 

 has fixed up a brass plate near the hallowed spot of interment, with a g'.owing eulo- 

 gium to his memory. 



For the Monthly Magazine. 

 ANECDOTES of DIPLOMACY ; communi- 

 cated by a ci-devant ambassador, 

 now resident at Brussels. 



MARIA LOUISA. 



WHEN Napoleon, in the year 

 1809, entered Vienna as a 



conqueror, he chose the beantiful cas- 

 tle of Schonbrunn, near Vienna, for 

 his residence on the occasion. One 

 morning, after breakfast, to gratify his 

 curiosity, he proceeded to take a 

 general survey of the apartments, 

 which bad been deserted, some weeks 

 before, 



