And the wide regions of the land, proclaim The Power Divine, that raised the mighty frame. What things soe'er are to an end referred, And in their motions still that end regard, Always the fitness of the means respect, These as conducive choose, and those reject, Must by a judgment foreign and unknown Be guided to their end, or by their own; For to design an end, and to pursue That end by means, and have it still in view, Demands a conscious, wise, reflecting cause, Which freely moves, and acts by reason's laws; That can deliberate, means elect, and find Their due connexion with the end designed. And since the world's wide frame does not include A cause with such capacities endued, Some other cause o'er nature must preside, Which gave her birth, and does her motions guide; And here behold the cause, which God we name, The source of beings, and the mind supreme; Whose perfect wisdom, and whose prudent care, With one confederate voice unnumbered worlds declare. ELIJAH FENTON. This author, who was very much respected by his contemporaries, and who translated a portion of the Odyssey in conjunction with Pope, was born May 20, 1683, at Newcastle, in Staffordshire; studied at Cambridge, which, owing to his nonjuring principles, he had to leave without a degree; and passed part of his life as a schoolmaster, and part of it as secretary to Charles, Earl of Orrery. By his tragedy of 'Mariamne' he secured a moderate competence; and during his latter years, spent his life comfortably as tutor in the house of Lady Trumbull. He died in 1730. His accomplishments were superior, and his character excellent. Pope, who was indebted to him for the first, fourth, nineteenth, and twentieth of the books of the Odyssey, mourns his loss in one of his most sincere-seeming letters. Fenton edited Waller and Milton, wrote a brief life of the latter poet,--with which most of our readers are acquainted,--and indited some respectable verse. AN ODE TO THE RIGHT HON. JOHN LORD GOWER. WRITTEN IN THE SPRING OF 1716. 1 O'er Winter's long inclement sway, At length the lusty Spring prevails; And swift to meet the smiling May, Is wafted by the western gales. Around him dance the rosy Hours, And damasking the ground with flowers, With ambient sweets perfume the morn; With shadowy verdure flourished high, A sudden youth the groves enjoy; Where Philomel laments forlorn. 2 By her awaked, the woodland choir To hail the coming god prepares; And tempts me to resume the lyre, Soft warbling to the vernal airs. Yet once more, O ye Muses! deign For me, the meanest of your train, Unblamed to approach your blest retreat: Where Horace wantons at your spring, And Pindar sweeps a bolder string; Whose notes the Aonian hills repeat.