Copy of a letter from J. Craw to Mr. Thomas Mair Merchant ia Edinburgh. SIR, . I hereby declare, that without your liberty, or my informing you ; I fubferibed and uttered feveral notes payable to you or the ' bearer, agreeable to and in form of one of thefe notes of this date, gi

January the ift, 1761. STROPHE. STILL muft the Mufe, indignant, hear, The clanging Trump, the rattling Car, And ufher in each opening Year. With Groans of Death, and Sounds of WaH O'er bleeding Millions, Realms opprefs'd, The tuneful Mourner finks diftreh'd, Or breathes but Noce

rrom Magdebourg of the 13th alt. they write, that they had already begun to make preparations for the next cam- p-iien ; that a gteat number of workmen were employed in making carnages for artillery, baggage-waggons, See. and that, a few days before, feveral pieces of canwn and

From the out Gazette, Jan Tfce King has been confer on William Bennett, High Sheriff of the County of Southampton, and William ; County Cumberland, the Honour Knighthood. Abwi hai.ty Off ice, Jan. 2 Rear Admiral Rcd'nev, Letter of the jift paft, gives an AcCdunt, thai his Majeft

Letters from Francfort advife, that the King of Pruflia had intimated to the King of Poland, that deeply aftefted with the deplorable cond ition of the Electorate of Saxony, which if made the theatre of war for a few years more, would be reduced fo low, that it could never recov

Paris, Dee. is. An Engl.lh ?• lan -f War and a Frigate are loft on the Coaft ol B.ttu.i). The Sh. P was pierce, tor -. Our- but .„ ly inn were found on board, and no ?? Ma n*lt was laden wnh Flanks, which have been uh n out. The Frigate, whi.b mounted __o Guns, had #4, Men on bo

Car> •'» fi'et cur ! fi, ?? c ?? i \m oally, Mac Ardel, f ?? Qucbe. ai.d R-jchel!.-. Arriv d, Atlialmx. the D :i.;i»t, Somen* at Bofton, the Suiar.nah. Poindtlv , ! *.th from this Port- at BiJdeion', the lVac*. Loverin ;, from Maryland | at Norway, the Pe.er and Anna, Wright, fr

Frequent in all th' humility of grief, Binding the cyprefs wicker round the turf Where who once poflefs'd it, lies inhum'd ? And wilt thou now thy lympatlietic figh, And tendernefs refute, when Britain feels A public lofs, when iron hearted Fate, Summons the great Bosca from the