/:^-:^:Jr^4 'M^ W^ ^iV*te "^W- jf^'V' inn, u — c iiifs — V n^(u/:f^fi. „uM'***'^''-*''«****J*^^/,.„,, tiras;??sp?5« •■•-•' *-^-^'/"'ZaX.n .." ^5''^' IP-"''"" JO? JOMH MOOJRE, fuhliihH hj B.Crcjfy i- ^■.'' Staliiturj tUirt Mn'.i. icW. BEAUTIES OF DR. JOHN MOORE; SELtCTED TPOM THE MORAI, PHILOSOPHICAL AND MISCELtAM WORKS OF THAT ESTEEMED JUTHOR TO WHICH ARE ADDED, A N«w Biographical and Critical Account or THE DOCTOR AND HIS WRITINGS; >ND N O T E S, Historical, C'ussicalj and LyidanaUn-,, . By the Ur.v. F. niEyOST, ani. V. BLAGDOX, Es«. -«\.\,^<'^.'»— SECOND EDITION, CartfuUij corrected and considi.rably augmented. I'iorit'crb ut apes in saltibus iiieilia llbaiit. " Sic iios autoiuiii dcccrpiiiius auiea dicta." LONDON: VIUNTED FOtl E. CUOSDY AND CO. STATIOXl^RS COUXIT, PATERNOSTEU KOW. Bij J. G. BiDiiurd, George's Couit, CUrkcnieell, 180 J. Ont-F UBL iii pf> DEDICATIOX, ^"Xik^h JOHN JULIUS ANGERSTEIN, ESQ. SIR, THE greatest part of t/tis xuork zias u-riftcn dur' ing a temporary repose from the duties of my profes- sion, for which I xuas indebted to your liberal patro- nage, and is the result of my readings with a dear re- lation of your's,* whose impro-ccment I earnestly "wished to promote, and who has had, as well as my^ self many opportunities of knowing how justly, and faithfully, the foUoxdng sketches of Dr. Moore, are depicted. Under these considerations I have thought and felt it a duty to prefix your name to them, thoxtgh many xcill imagine, that in doing this, I only -wished to indulge my own pride. I prisume, Sir, to hope this offering will not be disagreeable to you; it having been rendered more perfect, and xoorthy of your notice, by the assistance of my friend and colleague, xcho holds a respectable situation in the republic of letters, and who has carefully watched over its grammatical propriity ; * John Auj^crslc'in, Fs], who, diuiitg his travels, hi/ his amiuble, and engaging numners, endeared hin:se!f to all those who had the plensitye of bis acq'uiiutance, and purticularh/ to the writer, who had the honouur of a more intiniLtc and Ioniser iiUcrcjurse uith him. a2 IV hut that riith iiour usual kind indulgence you ■will iicl' come it as a feeble though sincere token of those sen- timents of gratitude, for your past protection, and high regard, for your benevolent, and patriotic xir- tues, -which no circumstances, nor events, have ever teen, nor ever ivill be, able to eradicate from my bo- S0711. I have the honour to be respectfully, SIR, Your^ most humble, Most dutiful, > .■'Ind obliged Servant, FRANCIS PRF.VOST, Jidij 1st. 180S ADVERTISEMES^T TO THE SECOND EDITION. JlX preparing this publication for the press, it uas at first intended principally for the emhcUia'iment of the Liliraries of Gentlemen, and not onli/ for such as might be in possession of the volumiuous productions of the Author, but for those who might not be in- clined to purchase the rchole of the Doctor's works. For this purpose it was printed in two volumes, vnder the title of Moo Ri Ay A. On proceeding, hoiccLtr, the Editors xvere of opinion, that i/ the Sketches of Dr. Moore iccre calculated for the entertainment of adults, they were still better adapted to the information and improvement of the rising generation : for they may be considered as a combination of instruct ion anil amusement that the philosopher may peruse with grati- fication, and the superficial reader with delight. It was, therefore, resolved to publish the whole of the • matter in the small octavo edition, in a much cheaper and more appropriate form, for the use of schools AND YOUNG PERSON s i—Z^j/Zi ?/<« t/fTt', the cditors thought proper, as the work advanced, (o be more co- pious in their Notes and Illustrations ; and they falter- ed thc7nsehes that the Ijeauties of Dr. iMoioUB Would be found not only one of the inost vscj'nl, but the cheapest School Book which had been published for a number of years. — The event, indeed, has fully jus- tifcd their expectations ; fou the volvme k.\d VI ONLY BEEV rUBLISIIED A FEAT WF.EKS WHEN THE WHOLE EDITION WAS SOLD. That t/lis IVaS really the case (and that the assertion is not one of those contemptible artifices that are Jrequently re- sorted to for the purpose of circulating a publication •whose want of merit renders it vnKorthy of public pa- tronage) viay be ascertained by the most supcrfcial comparison of the present xoUnne with any copy of the first edition ; when it will be perceived, that in the pj^sent edition, the pages are considerably larger ; so that, although the additional notes are very consider- able in number, yet the whole is comprised in a xolume (^rather less size than that of the first edition. Great care has also been taken to expunge those passages zuhick were deemed objectionable in the former xolume; and every attention will in future be paid to obviate a similar complaint. %.* 2 he Volume just published by the editors of i/iis work, under the title of Flowers of Litera- ture, has no reference whatever to the series oj' Ana. above alluded to, and an edition of -tthich is nearly ready for publication. J'/^c Flowers of Litera- ture consist of selections Jrom all the best writers of 180i-2, and will be continued an n ually. The Editors have only to add, that the new- and ext€7isive Scries of Ana, which they havs now in the press, will be also adapted, like the present, to the .'iccotn?r,odation of' juvenile rcadcrSf under the title of Beauties; and if by this plan they can gne the feeblest aid to the inculcation of virtue, of science, and of unsophisticated religion, their object will he attained. vn FJUirjci:. W E need not inform our classical readers, that the books in ana (a Latin termination ad'opted in the titles of sonic works), arc collections of the most re- markable sayings or writings of persons of learning and wit ; nearly similar to what is commonly called table-talk : — but, in order to assign to those literary productions, which are in many respects extremely useful, the degree of merit they deserve, and which has sometimes been refused to them ; as weil as to justify the present undertaking, \\c will desire our readers to observe, that books under the name of Ana, which are more numerous in French than in English literature, although, perhaps, new in re- spect to their form and titles, arc nevertheless, as to their matter and composition, of a very old ditle. The Greeks, who were always considered as our masters in every polite art and science — the Greeks, so refined in and celebrated for their literature — far from disdaining, kindly welcomed, and highly es- teemed iho-e collections, wiien made v>iih care, taste, and discernment. Are nut Xv noph'ms books of the (It L'ds and sayings of Socratis, as weil as the dialogues of I'lalo, ^ucratiaiia'^ — lias not the most fastidious critic read w'th enthusia-in, tlii- Oiphica, the r/ij/tiiLi^onra, the /Eio/'itJi / — wlr. , IIumi, should the modern Ana, be looked upon, by the learned cf ^111 our Hge, as the contemptible productions Cif needy book-makers, or as tlie commercial speculations of people in trade ? In imitation of the Greeks, our infaliilde inodcls; and to favour a more extensive circulation of know- ledge among all ranks of society, we intend to pub- lish, if the present work should be honoured with the public patronage, an extensive series of -<4«cr, selected from the productions of the most renowned and lately deceased authors of this country as well as those of the continent. The preparation of this series having for some time formed the amusement of our leisure hours, the whole is in such a state of forwardness that the volumes will be speedily and successively j)ublishcd, with the addition of copious notes, by way of illustration or contrast, to certain passages from every respective author. We liave first presented our select extracts from the writings of Dr. Moore, thinking him the author who, from the great variety of his works, was more likely to pledse the man of taste, and the man of the world (for he has sketched the principal traits in the characters of those eminent personages, who flou- rished in the last century, as also ()f those tragi' comic actors, who have figured during the French revolution), — and both to amuse and instruct the British youth, 'ny tlie geographical and humourous accounts contained in his travels, of the most singu- lar ceremonies, and most famous cities in Europe. In our lab')urs we have had principally in view, not only the universal <>ducation of the rising gcne- : ration, but also the amusement of that class of readers, who by a limited fortune arc prevented from purchasing bulky and extensive publications IX like those of Dr. Moorc ■*; fluttering ourselves, that the man of rank, fortune^ anil taste, if Mooriana shouUl fall into his hands, \vc feol, from its perusal, a stront; desire to become 'more intimately ac- quainted with an author so conversant with men and manners, and so eminent for tiie benevolence of his heart, and the purity of his morals: and thus be ir- resistibly induced to purchase all his works, in order to place them in his library, on the same shelf with those of the most renowned authors of the last cen- tury: with Svwllcf, I'leliting, Johnson, C/testctJkiil, &c. &c. We cannot end tliis advertisement, without tender ' ing our most sincere thanks to Dr. Moore's rehili\cs for the liberal support they have given to our un- dertaking, by granting us leave to copy a masterly drawing of the Doctor, sketched at a time posterior tohis picture by L.awrcnce, by the bold and faithful pencil of W. Lock, jun. lilsq. a gemreman of inde- pendent fortune, well known for tbe ainiableness of his manners, and the generosity of his heart ; and renowned, among the dilettanti, for his early and almost instinctive talents, discernment, and taste, in the art of painting. Nor can wc refrain from ex- pressing our wish, which is that of the public, that Dr. Moore's respectable relatives may soon enrich our literature l)y the publication of some of his MSS. if he has left any, intended for the press. • Taken collectively, tlicy contain about ten thousand pases, of a large octavo edition ; the most iiislri:cti\ c and entertaining j;art ot" which wc have endeavoured to compress in 500. This diiij icas pid-Uihed, By the Rev. F. Prevost and F. Blagdou, Esq. Piice 5s. Boards, in One luij^e Vvlumc Duodecimo, TO BE CONTINUED ANNU-il-LYj PtOWEfiS of l^lTfRATURF, Or Ch AH ACTERV.STIC SKETCHES of Human Natuke and Modken ManniiKs, being Selections ftom the lattst and most £i».tepmfd Productions^ Foreign and D(;niestic> piibliMied in IfwU ft S.— To v.iiieii are add^-d li KCntTul View c>l' lilt! LtrePArvnu ol' the lent l«o Veurs, and Notes, Historical, Ciy»sical, Critical and Kxiilanalory. XI ACCOUNT Life and JVritings Dr. JOHN MOORE. A: .MOXGSr the numerous horde of writers of the last de- gener.ite century, wlio have attacked religion by their sarcasms ; morali'y, by their proiligacy ; and civil society, b\' their levelling principles — we feel an inexpressible satisfaction in presenting to the notice of our readers, an author wiio was a friend to religion and morality, a supporter of rational liberty, and an inveterate enemy to the excesses of unri;slrained licentiousness. What a pleasing and useful occupation would it be for us to unravel, and delineate, the whole tenor of a life consecrated" to the relief and instruction of human nature ; to present Dr. Moore, as a tender husband, an affectionate father, and a be- nevolent physician, and to otfer him to his countr^'men as a pattern of the highest excellence. But not having had the happiness of an intimate actjuaintance with him, our picture can be but an imperfect sketch of his character: we shall therefore content ourselves with mentioning the principal circumstances which relate to his lifo and writings; for we will leave to some of his respectable and atfectionate relatives, or bosom-friends, the heartlclt pleasure of recording the anecdotic details of his life ; and by this means coinpletcly gratifying the public cu- rintiity, which the present notice will pt-rhaps contribute to in- crease. Xll Dr. John Moore was the son of a clergyman, a native of Scotland * : i)aving lost his fatlier, when only five years old, he was lelt lo t!ie care of his mother t : a lady distinguislied for the strength of her understanding, and eminent for her piety, and benevolence of heart ; — sentiments which she early infused in the mind of her only child. After the necessary preparation of a grammar-school, young Mr. Moore being destined for tlie professipn of medicine, removed with his mother to Glasgovr^ ivas matriculated at the University, and placed under the care of an eminent pracytioner. He was at an early period, (in the seventeenth year of his age) thrown, as it were, upon thie world : and having obtained a suflicient knowledge of the practice of phy- sic, he left his native country, and passed over to the continent under the protection of the Duke of Argyle, Lieutenant-colo" ncl of a regiment of foot, which embarked for Flanders to serve under his Royal Highness William Duke o^ Cumberland {. At Maestrich, Flushing, and Breda, the subject of these memoirs attended the military hospitals there in quality of mate, and soon enjoyed much practice {. On the conclusion of the peace he re- turned to England. Having arrived in London, with the advan- tage of two years constant practice, Dr. Moore then thought pro- per to enter more deeply into the theory of medicine, and to avail himself of all the knowledge that could be obtained by af tending lectures in the British capital. At that period the French metropolis enjoyed and deserved the reputation of being the best * He was born in 1730, at Stirling, the ancient residence of the Scottish kings. His father, the Itev. Charles Moore, was one of the ministers of that town, and was greatly esteemed for the purity of his maimers, as well as for the amiableness of his dis- position. i She was a native of Glasgow, and the daughter of John An- derson Esq. i After having extinguished a domestic rebellion i>n Scotland by his gallant behaviour, and very meritorious couduclXit the battle ofCulloden, his Royal Highness had repaired to the continent in order to combat our foreign enemies, and, in 17-17, coin- inanded the allied army in Flanders. i His patients were very numerous in consequence of the un- fortunate battle of Lalleldt ; and he derived much instruction and information from the scenes of slaughter and calamity atten'd- ant on a sanguinary campaign. Xlll school in Europe ; Dr. Moore, therefore, set out for Pari», and at his arrival, having paid his rcspucis t>j the British ambassador, he was recognised and protected by Itis Excellency *, who ap- pointed him surgeon to his household. After two ycRrs resi- dence in Paris, during which he carefully attended the Eritijih , ambassador's fauiilj', and walked the hospitals of that capital, Dr. Moore having been invited by hb former tutor t, who was not insensible to the assiduity and improvements of his pupil, to enter into partnership with him, he left Paris, and returned to Glasj^ow, where he practised as a physician, till he liad attained his fortieth year. He then attended with the most anxious care through the whole progress of that lingering disease, a confuinp- tion, the bane of British youth, a young nobleman, James George, Duke of Hamilton, distinguished by briiliant personal advantages, and high endowments of mind; but he died in the fifteenth year of his age f . Tliis circumstance led, and i ecom- mended him to a more iutiaiatc connection with that noble family. • Lord Albemarle, who had known him in Flanders, and' who while he acted in the capacity of a General under the l>iike of Cumberland, was also Colonel of tiie Coldstream, of witiich Mr, M.had been surgeon's mate. ..^ t Dr. Gordon. This custom of partnerthip is very common in North Britain, and necessarily resul is t'roni the estensivenessof a practice, which, among other branches of medical science, em> braces tliat of midwifery. I How much Dr. Moon; was attached to this extraordinary young nobleman, may be collected from a note which is to be ■found in his Medical Sketches. After having recorded, as he had done on his tomb in the burying place of Hamillon, tlie surprising endowments of his ])atici.t ; and after ha\ing stated the reinark- ablo nature of a consumption which haifled all the eftbrts of modi- cine, he adds, with much genuine feeling : " 'I'hese particulars, *' no doubt, arc foreign to the purpose of my work, and will «' perhap? be cvitici'cd as improper. Let them. .A.t lliediiiance by whom he vras chosen to accompany liis brother, Douglas, Duke of Hamilton, in his travels, -who was of a verj sickly con- stitution. ])iit before we consicl«»r him as a traveller, our readers, perhaps, will hi' glad to know the merit of the subject of this memoir as a physician. He was not one of those important prac- titioners, who are positive in their prescriptions, who never doubt, \\lio understand the nature of every disease, and wlio have higli and entiuisia.«tic notions of the powers of medicine, and of their infallible sagacity in the application of these [lOwers. He cannot also be ranked among those cunning, un])rincip!ed and interested practitioners, who impose upon the weakness and credulity of the persons who employ them :• — men of seper- ficial knowledge, of a Considerable degree of shrewdness, aiid such a portion of impudence, as sets them above embarrassment' even when their ignorance and fraud are made manifest : — men who study the foibles of mankind — fatten on the fears, hopes, and caprices of the rich valetudinarian ; and scpieeze the last lin- " of sixteen years, I have never yet, without some s;'ch impro- " pfiety, been able to meniion this amiable young man. " Py ni(^ so heaven will have it, always mourn'd " And always honoured." * Such kind of quackery some people seem to invite, and they cannot be fully convinced of their physician's .«kill and attenti .n without it. " In a certain city of the continent," says Dr. IMoore, " I happened lo call upon a lady, who on account of a pain and slight swelling in her ancle had consulted a well-known physician, who also is accused by his brethren of much charlatanical parade in his practice, and couunands the admiration of his patients. lie had just left her when 1 entered. Siie told me lie had ordered a poultice of bread and milk to be ajiplied lo the part, and then giving her watch to her maid, she desi'ed her to take particular care tliat the poultice should be boiled e.\actly four minutes and u half, tor such were the express orders of ]Monsieur le Docieur. — O:: rr.y exriresiing my surprize at the minuteness of such orders, XV jjcring bhilling out ol" the feeble liarnJ ut tlie poor.— Such wcr«. not the principles ol' Dr. ilocic. — in it, then, surprising, that witU more ditlideut laodcsty on the efficacy of his profession, and more benevolent generosity titan are usuilly to be met with, he did not ainass a large lortnne in an honourable calling, >\hicb ha* enriched sO many of its votaries ? But his literitry pursuits, per- haps, reiideiod him averse from engaging in the hurry, bustle, intrigue, and subservience, ^^llicI^ attends London physiciat!.— Ne\erlheles.'4, il he has been outstript in the career of riches by luen of less sagacity and experience, and of far inferior talents and abilities, it may be proper to surmise, that by his literary writings, he has enjoyed more rational pleasure, tliough less pe- cuniary advantage, thar» those sons of care and labour, the prac- titioners of the metropolis, obtain fioman hard spring and a sicklj mitumn. Allhouglj ho had ppssed much of his life in Scotland, or oil the continent, yet, no sooner had lie returned from his tra- vels. Hiid settled in London with his family *, tlian he was con- luited and esteemed by his friends, and a numerous public, as a jiidicijnsand prudent physician ; as one who considers himself an afsisf'int to nature :— leaves her, when her power seems suificiont to perlorni her own cure, and assists her, wlicn too kchlc, by every means in his power. ludoed, in a medical work t wliich she fxclairaed, " Mon Dieu ! quclle-precisinn I. 11 ra!cu!e com.TJc un ange !" Is it by ridiculing such puerilities, I'lat Dr, Moore is supposed to have given .wmc oiiciice to a lew narrcuv-mindtd men ? or is it by l!ie disclosure of certain orcma, which ihey wish for the sake of their interest to conceal, and therelbre consider il as hijjh-trea- 6un to reveal f ♦ In the year 1778. t .Verficrt! Shc'.cJies, published in 1735, and dcdicatcil with liutij delicacy to ilic respectable W, Lock, Es^. They were hi XVI he publialted a few years after liis return from the continent, h? shewed Iiimself deserving of an extensive practice ; and provcdj hj tills masterly perforiirance, which was very favourably re- ceived, that he had kept always in view his entrance into the chamber of his patient, even while he was surveying the beauties ui nature in the most delightful parts of Europe. But, during his travels, Dr. Mixjre did not confine his admiration to inani- mate iMiture alone ; lie conversed much with men, and minutely observed their manners, i>ass(ons, and religious and poliiical pre- jadices. With a mind full of penetration and sagacity, he was happily placed in such a situation as to become one of the most instructive and entertaining writers of travels; for it must be acknowledged, that if the noble pupil *, being of a very delicate constitution, was happy in the choice of such a tutor, who had an extensive and experimental knowledge of medicine, and was also much acquainted with the continent ; the medical professor was fortunate in accompanying a handsome youth, deeply versed iu antiquity, with a taste for classical learning, and of the most amiable and engaging manners. Unlike those upstarts of for- tune, whose pride is equal to their ignorance, who think thenh. selves degraded by intimacy, and whose repulsive ^irs, perpetually writen for a near relation of him who had the health of a consi- derable detachment entrusted to his care at a very early period of liie. As to the matter, this work is to be regarded as a coinpila- tiuu, yet it frequently states and contrasts the different notions of various writers on the same subject, w ith much force. The Doctor's physic is also interspersed with pleasantries and anec- dotes which cannot fail to render it ])alatable to the generality of readers; for whom it appears to have been written, as much stedy seems to have been used to divesl it of all technical terms uud to reader it iateiligible to every capacity. * Douglas Hamilton, born July 25, 175tL Ho married Mas Biirrell, now Lady Exeter, iu 1783. Her grace obtained a di- vorce from him ia 1T94 ; and he himself died in 1800. He spent. XVll remind their travelling companions of the distance which cliance has put between them : unlike such characters, the youtli in ques- tion, though of the first rank, lived with his Doctor and friend, in a state of the most faniilar intimacy. Being greatly distin- guished, and kinlied in 1T7'.', and lins parsed tlirojigh nine editions, lie allcrwards published a continuation ot the jiame wcrk in two iwl- ditio:ial valurnrs, i-ntitkxl, .•! Vicuo of Society and Manncvs in hdt». XVlll ttavels • t!)roii;^ti France, at the critical and eventful period of the revolution, whicli, in ordinarv writers, would have exhibiteti little more than the occurrences detailed in old newspapers, give* us the reflections of his own enliglitened mind. It is a connected series of unexampled events, terminating in one dreadful catas- trophe. This journal will be advatilaucou.siy distingiiisiiod amongst contemporary memoirs, and enijiloyed by some future historians of France, as a fair and candid narrative of the public transactions of that country. The uicidenls of the wickedness, and follies of men, are coupled with acute observations, and aiter- ■nately interspersed with the pathetic, and enlivened by the hu- mourous. Having read the great book of life with attention and profit, and his mind being stored with useful knowledge, and elegant ^ Entitled, A Jimmal during a Resideiice in France, from, the beginning of August to the middle of December, 179-2; to which is added, an Account of the moat remtnkable events that happened at Paris, from that time to the death of the lute king of France ; published in 1794, with tliis appropriate epigraph : Opus opimum. casihus, olroT, pi'aiiij!, discors scditionihns, ipsa eliani pace stttum. — Tiicit. The Doctor accoiiipanii.'d Lord Lauderdale, whose healih did not permit him to ])ress lurward with rapidity. Hiey reached Dover in the beginning (.f August 1791', and sailed on the 4tli for CaUiis. After his arrival in Paris, the J)i'Ctor fre- quently visited tiio assembly. He was awoke about two o'clock of tiie morning of the lOtii of August, by the ringing of the tocsin, and alarmed at ten by the firing of the cannon : events that led to the overthrow of the monarchy. It was hi* fate also to wit- ness the murders, the crimes, and the barbarities of September 1792, when the atrocious machinations of ruffians, led by de- signing enthusiasl.s, dcitigcd Paris with innocent biood. The times being very critical, and rendcnoL' a residence in that ca- pital highly disagreeable, the Doctor and his irKnds thougiit proper to leave it. The most commfudable trait of Dr. Moore's journal is that spirit of discrimination, which, while it arraigiii and abominates the atrocitius of wicked demagogues, and their execrable instruments, still compassionates the nation at lart;e. literature, it may naturally be expected that Dr. j\l3ore at- tained a high degree of reputation as a novellUt, after having been distinguished as a true, and sagacious j)aiiUer of foreign manners. His norels • arc very different from those wonderful romances of llie present day, and particularly those which we have imported from Germany. Tlioy are not distinguished by singularity and inconsistency in their characters, by deep evo- lutions of events, by rapid conversions of fortune, or by scenes of complicated distress, and of unexpected deliverance. Dr. Moore, being endowed with more than an ordinary insight into human nature, and capable of describing its intricacies with discernment, bus employed much of the machinery of ordinary incidents, and presented them with many pleasantries, and stnikes ('f humour. His object in describing our domestic maniiers was tilways to correct and reform them. In his first romance, Zchi. CQ, t he seems to have wished to inculcate this iiiijiortant moral. • He has published three novels— teirtco, we believe in 1737 ; in 1790, EdunrJ, or vnrioits Views of Humtm iWitutr, tJifi from life and mnimcrs, chicjlii in Kn^land; and in 1800, ilordniint, being Sketches of Life, Characters, and Muinierf in various Countries ; including the Meaioirs of' a French I.udy of Qiialitif, in two vott. 8iv. t This Romance abounds with many interestins; eve ts. Its chief tendency is directed towards the education ot youth. It fully evinces the fatal effects resulting from uncontrolled pas- sion on the part of a darling son, and unconditional compliance on that of a fond mother. It relates tlic liic and adventuri/s of the only sou of a noble and wealthy lanuly in JJicilv. While drawiiig the character and sufferini;.>i ol ins hero, his external luagiiificeuce and internal misery, the author considere Iwiusclf employed in tracing '' the wiiidmgs of vice, and dciiueatmu the disgusting features of villa ny." I'his story is calculated r.-.tlier to alTect llic reader, than warn liiin by exaiii|>lc. For it »s |j be hoped, that a character so atrocious as tiiat of Zeluco iiever existed ia lifej and is only to bo met with in the pa^es of a XX the inevitaiiie misery of vice, rcsuiting from tliose inward pang;f of sorrow, remorse, and terror, fvhiclt a vicious conduct Hever fails to produce, and from whicli tlie inost liardcncd viliaiii, in the niidst of the greatest worldly prosperity, is n(jt exempt. In his second novel, Edward, t lie lias reinlered truly interesting, on account of Iier good sense, and un'oonnded benevolence of heart, a Isidy who had neither beauty nor accomplishments to recommend her; and excited our niost lively interest in favour of his hero, who, in many trying situations, displays invariably an amiable and manly mind. — Dr. Moore's romances do not re- semble the n»odern ones, which have little merit, but that of ex- citing curiosity, and are thrown aside as soon as the reader's curiosity is gratified. The story, or fable, of bis performances must be considered n>?rely as a canvas on which this skilful ob- server of life and manners delineates, wiili an exquisite touch, and high cclouring, such moral pictures as are likely to excite the attention of his age and country. The last romance he pub- lished is chiefly of this nature.* AVe must then consider him novel. Many ( thcr characters are intio>luecd, and accurately des- cribed : as well as ma;iy maxims of moralily, illustrated by ob- servations sometimes new, and always ingenious, solid, and striking. t Edward is a foundling, like Tom Joaes, orii;inalU' brought up in a workhouse, whom chance places under tlie protection of a lady. By a natural series of events, he is finally brought to the tiiscovcry of his respectable and wealthy connection.', anri marries a bcautitnl and accoiuplisJied heiress, of wl'.om his wi- dowed mother is t'.ie guardian, and wlio in bis humbler fortiuie bad given him the preference tg suitors, highly reconmiended by rank, foi tunc, and merit. ' ', * Mcrdnunf. Sl- XXI ralhrr a» a nioralbt tlian as a novel-writer— as a j;igaciou8 mora- list, Dr. Moore has liuniuroiisly deliiit'ated, ami ndiculcil those weaknesses so coiiiiuon in tlie world; tiic affected apaliiy of the l.:sliion;ible, the rejxilsive vanity ol" titled Tools, and the cold iiiicnsibilitv of Jirandeur— as a benevolent moralist, he biis elo- quently' and warmly pleaded the cause of sutiering huinaiiity ; and declared himself a foe to ilie slavery that prevails in our colonics ; but, far ditfevent from those blind enthusiasts, who in a neighbouring country, have called themselves the li"iendi> oi tlic blacks, he has only implored for them protecting laws, a:id wisely advised not their sudden but their gradual eiuuncipaiiou — ai an enlightened moralift, he always had in view in his va- rious productiuns the inculcation of this moral ; — that upright- ness, integrity', and somewhat of an independent spirit, lead with more certainty, even to worldly prcsperity, than hypo- crisy, fraud and servility ; that independently therel'ore, of what will most assuredh/ take place in a future slate, no persofk of a cultivated understanding, and thorougli good sense will choose the three latter lines of conduct for his guide. Unprin- cipled or fanatic men have attempted to pulhaie (.-r justify all the crimes which the French revolution has produced, and which have de'ugcd with blood not only France but most of the, countries of Europe — but, although like a liberal-miudcd Eng- lishman, Dr. Moore first rejoiced at the destruction of despo< tism in France, in the hope that a fair and rational system of freedom would ultimately be established in a country so rich in genius and so fertile in fancy, yet he soon bitteriy inveighed against those scenes of injustice, hoTur and barbarity, that were acted in France, scenes which have d.sgraced the name of niers. In these are contained a variety of anecdotes and cir- ciiinslances which occurred to iiim in diil'erent parts vi F.urop*. All the characters of tliis novel are extremely well dcpicttd; wnd this is by far the best of the author's rontnntic public/t'.ious. xxn freedom and rov<,ltcd the heart of liuiniuii'y. He may hare been accused of partiality towards the French, he n>ay ha\c been suspected of a bias fur democracy ; for in tliese times of political convulsion, prejudices operate wirh unusual acriruonj- ; but the brain of idiutism alone, could surniise, and the tonj^ue of inalevolence propagate the report, that he who liad so just a sense of the blessings of a free govonmieiit, nourished the wish to see altered that well poised Itibric of frocdjui, Ireedom, wliicli was raised by. the wisdom and cemented by the blood of virtuous Britons, and tluis perhaps to occasion the fall of tlie altar and of the throne— with uhut acute feeling and atf'ecting expressions has he nut lamented the niisfortar.es ol the laniily of Bourbon, and the cruel fate of tlic dii^aified IvIarie Amoi- KETJF : " Philosophy," sach are his woids, •' may demonstrate " that in a far inferior wa!k of life, a wouian who loses her has- " band and her children, on^ht to command our sympathy in an " equal degree— when the voi-je of liuaianily has lepealcd all •'this, what does answer the hunjan heart, fiiivhiul to jis list " impressions; it takes a stronger interest in the di^tressc8 of a " Queen.—" — It is from men born with similar sentiments, that *' good monarchs may expect the most unshaken attachment " to their persons : lecause ibeir loyalty is noble and rsv- " tional— while those servile courtiers who adopt all their prejudices and abet all their caprices, at the least appeara*ce of their tottering authority soon ttn-n their bitterest enemies and become the most turbulent demagogues. Could the man who has traced the follo^vi^g energetic lines be suspected of a wish to see his native land under the guidance of ferocious republican counsels,— " 'the most shocking crimes," says tlie humar.e aiid virtuous sulject of these memoirs, when recording tiie massacres coromitled around him in the month of Scpteniher, 1792 ; " ;ha " most shockiiig crimes are at this uiomei.t -jierpetrating at the '<■ prison of the Abbaye — a thing unequalled m the records of '• wickedness !— They cill »hcui the Pcu^.'c— but (1 ey deierve XXUI *• no name by whicli any tliiut; \v]-.ich has the least relation t» "human nature can be signified — a set of monsters are niassa- " creing all the prisoners. — Tliey have been at this shocliing '• work during several liours! — It is now past twelve, and the " bloody carnage still goes on — what apology can be offered for " this violation ut' justice, hmnanity, and pulilic fiiilli ? A pri- "■ son ought to be tlic most sacred of all asylums : Its violation " is impiety : How came the citizens of this populous raetropolia " to remain passive spectators of so dreadful an outrage ? I ab- " hor writing any more about them. Wretches !" With a soul endowed with such virtuous and delicate sensibility, Dr. Moore could nut but fulfil with the most scrupulous exactness all the relative duties of life, an humane physician, a steady frici»d, an atfi-ctionate parent : the Doctor in the bosom of his family whose welfare he always had in •^iew, and who have by their KierJt and affection rewarded his parental solicitude, enjoyed all t'le pleasures in w liich liusband and father can particip;ite ; and he paid with resignali(^n his debt to nahire alter a lingering illness, leaving the example of a life of integrity ; and sons heirs of hii ■virtues and talents, who will, like hitu, consecrate them to tLc welfare of their native country-. Dr. Moore died at Richmond, on the 21st. of January, 100", in tlic 71st. J ear of his age.* • He married Miss Simpson, the daughter of a professor in divinity in the university of Glasgow. Ey this lady he has had a daughter and five sons. The daughter is unmarried. — 'Ihe sons are an ornamerit to their country in their various proies- sions — John h:ts attained the rank of Major Genor.il. J-ew officers have seen uii ri; service. He is of a modest unii.ssuniin-' character, humane, of scrupulous integrity, and more sjIh itoiis to deserve priise than to receive it. He is esteemed by Ins brother officers, beloved b3' his soldiers ; and has emineiitly dis- played in Corsica, as well as in £,i;y(.t a cool intrepidity, and an ardent zeal for the service^ — J.nues is a surgeon ol great «kdl and ability in Loudon, and au author as well siS ins father, bHv:iig XXIV pMnlislied trro profe5sional pamp}ik>ts.— Graham who entfred eariy into tlie navy, is now post caplain— he {lave a proof of Ins braver^', when on board the Melaiiipus of thirty-six t;iins, he ougaged and look the Ambuscade of forty, in October 1798, it being one of the squadron destined to invade Ireland.— Francis is tiie gentleman, who was lately employed in a diplo- matic Situatiui), and who has returned from the coatiiient.-— Cliarles, a young man of the most proiiiisiug talerils, and the most agreeable manners, alter having entered a lew years since, the honourable Society oi LnicoUi's-Iun, aa a student ot la**. luia been lately called to tlie bar. BEAUTIES OF im. JOHN MOOIRE. irriLiTV or books'', It can liai'tlly be conceived how life, short as it is, can be passed without many intervals of tedium, by tliose who have not their bread to earn, if they could jiot rail in the a'^sistance of our worthy mute friends the Books. Horses, hounds, the theatres, cards and the bottle, are all of use occasionally, no doubt ; but the weather may forbid the two first; a kind of nonsense may drive us from the third ; the associa- tion of others is necessary for the fourth, and also for the fifth, unless to those who arc already sunk into the lowest state of wretchedness and degrada- * If the following curious observations are just, our readers we trust, will be disposed to acknowledge that we have well de- served of them by offering this publication abridged and coin- jiriscd in a small compass. — "The siuallniss of the size of a " book," said tlie ingenious Robert Ilolkot, in liis Fhilobiblion , " is always its own commendation ; as, on the contrary, tlie large- "ncss of a book is its own disadvantage, as well as terror of " learning. In short a big book is a scare-crow to the head and " pocket of the author, student, buyer, and seller as well as a "harbour of ignorance. — Small books seem to pay a di!fi'''i^''ite " to the reader's quick and great understanding ; large books " to mistrust his capacity, and to confine his lime as well as hi* "intellect." . 2 tion: but the entertainment which books aftbrd, can be enjoyed in the worst weather, can be varied as we please, obtained in solicitude, and instead of blunting, it sharpens the understanding; but the most valuable efl'ect of a taste for reading is, that it often preserves us from bad company. For those arc not apt to go or remain with disagreeable people abroad, who arc always certain of a pleasant party at home. MEMBER OF PAllLI AMENT. Mr. Qvirk, the attorney, happened to call on Sir R. while he was revolving in his mind, at what time of life his son George had a chance to make a decent appearance : and he mentioned the circum- stance to him. Mr. Q. had on two or three occasions, been witness to young George's obstinacy in dispute, and perseverance in supporting a bad cause : on this foundation, he said, " There was reason to believe the young gentleman was possessed of very promising talents for the bar ;" but Sir R. insisted that George was by much too indolent for that profession, and, he feared, had no capacity sufticient for conducting any branch of commerce; *' We n;ust, therefore, think," added he, " of some kind of employment, which will give him little trouble, and require but a moderate extent of capacity." " You had best put him in parliament, then," ad- ded Mr. Quirk, " that gives little trouble, and has succeeded wonderfully with men of as moderiato ca- pacities as arc to be met with." ''"i Sir R. askeil his son, how he should like to be a member of the House of Commons ? On Mr. George's hesitating, 3Ir. Quirk adjoinctl, " It is a very honourable situation for young men who have nothing to do ; and it requires neither ap- plication nor study." " What docs it require, then?" said George. " It requires money to purchase a seat," answered Mr. Quirk. " Which I am willing to advance," said Sir R. " I believe the House meets at the hour of dinner," said George, "and some of the members make des- perate long speeches." " The young gentleman's remark is equally acute and just," rejoined the attorney, looking at Sir R. " Nevertheless I can assure him that any member may withdraw when he is tired, whether at the beginning, middle, or end of a speech." " Are you absolutely certain of that ?" added Mr. George. " Absolutely certain," replied Mr. Quirk, " other- wise who would be a member of parliament ?" " Not I, for one," answered Mr. George. " You need be under no apprehension of that sort ; for no strict attendance, as you dread, is required," said Mr. Quirk. " I should be glad to know what is absolutely requisite in a member of parliament ?" said George. " Only that you should be able to say Atje or No," said Sir R. a little angrily. " Will that satisfy you?" »9 4. "Very well, Sir," replied George, bowing to Iiis lather, " I have now no objection to being in par- iiament."* VAUIOUS EUROPEAN CIIARACTERS- TiiE Germans require very little variety; they can bear the languid uniformity of life with patience, even with satisfaction. Tlie French, though not celebrated for patience, are, of all mankind, the least liable to despondency. Public affairs never give a Frenchman uneasiness. If his mistress is kind, he celebrates her goodness and commends her taste; if she is cruel, he derides her folly in the arms of another. No people are so fond of amusements,. and so easily amused. The English view objects through a dark medium. They are much affected by the vexations of life, under which they are ready to despond. They feel their spirits flag with the repetitions of scenes which at first were thought agreeable. This stagnation of animal spirits, from whatever cause it arises, becomes * The following ludicrous double entendre which has been circulated as a fact, will not here be inappropriate. — ^The late Lord Stanhope, whose dress always corresponded with the sin- gularity of his manners, was once prevented from goin* into the Hoijse of Peers by a door-keeper who was unacquainted with his person : Lord Stanhope persisted in endeavouring to get inta the House without thinking to explain who he was ; and the door- keeper determined also on his part, made use of these words :— ' Honest Man, you have no business here. — Honest Man, you 'have no busini ss in this place," itself a cause of desperate resolutions, and debasing habits.* COMPANIONS OU IRIENDS. They arc those accommodating persons whom some people of rank love to have constantly with them, for the purpose of applauding whatever they do or say; whose business it is to prevent disagreea- ble truths from reaching the cars of their patrons, and contribute to render them as weak, ignorant, and capricious as they themselves are abject, selfish, and perfidious. BEAUTY AND DEFORMITY. It is observable that women who have no preten- sions to beauty arc cither uncommonly accomplished and agreeable, or peevish and censorious. Those who have natural good sense and energy of charac- ter, perceiving that their only chance of pleasing is by the chcarfulncss of their temper and their ta- lents, arc at pains to exert the one and cultivate the other; and they become always more estimable, and often more esteemed, than the most beautiful women who rely on their beauty alone, liut those women * Cliarlcs the Fifth used to say that tlie Portugui-se appeared to be tnadiucn, and were so; the Si)aiiiards appeared to be wise, aiid were not; the Italians appeared to be wise, and were so ; the French appeared to be madmen, and were not. — That the Germans spoke like carmen, tlio Englisli like simpletons, ilic Italians like lovers, the Freucli like musters, and the Spaniards like Kings. n 3 who, while they arc devoid of beauty are also defi- cient in temper, and incapable of any exertion to please, are sure of being unhappy in themselves and peculiarly disagreeable to others. Beauty and de- formity thus operate on the characters of women, as riches and poverty affect those of mankind; beauty and riches being apt to lull the mind into indolence; deformity and poverty to instigate it te exertion. IGKORAKCE. It is much in favour of him who labours under a deficiency of knowledge to be sensible of his igno- rance. As when, by the sensation of hunger a man in a weakly state becomes sensible that his stomach is empty, it forms a favourable presumption, but when a man's stomach is empty, if he has the sensa- tion of its being full, he is certainly a good deal out of order. GREAT rORTUNES. When young men come into possession of them, before they have acquired any fixed and determined taste ; when every object of pleasure is placed within reach of the unambitious, all other pursuits are too frequently despised. A young man in this situation is prone to excess, he seldom waits the natural returns of appetite of any kind : his sensibility is blunted by too frequent enjoyments; what is desired to-day is loathed to- morrow; every thing at a distance, which bears the name of pleasure, is lui object of desire; when pre- sent, becomes an object of disgust: all amusements lose their relish. As age advances, caprice, peevish- ness and tedium augment, till the curtain is dropped, or rather, is pulled down by the impatient actor himself, before the natural end of the drama. INSEXSIBILITY, The most selfish villager has no conception of that degree of selfishness and insensibility to the feelings of others which exists . among the sons of luxury and sloth in capitals, where the heart is rendered callous by the daily exhibition of profusion contrasted with want, misery with mirth, and where people are so often the witnesses or accomplices of the ruin of friends or acquaintance. lIAPry SARCASM. A WRETCH who had a diabolical rancour against M. Desprcmeiiil, was in the beginning of the revolu- tion, accusing him of being an apostate from the cause of the people ; and concluded his violent har- rangue by a proposal, that as his person was not im- mediately in their power, they should turn his wife and children into the street, and burn his house. A person of presence of mind and humanity, who heard the shocking proposal, exclaimed, " That it would be no punishment to the real criminal, because 8 the house and furnliurc belonged to the landlord, his wife to the public, and that as for the children, they belonged to some of the best patriots in the company." This sarcasm, though believed neither by the speaker nor his audience, put them in a humour in- consistent with the horrid proposal, and saved the family of M. Despremenil from destruction. * CHARMS OF A DICTIONARY. TjiE Duchess of Brunswick has contributed to make reading very fashionable among the ladies of her court. One of them, whose education had been neglected in her youth, and had arrived at a very ripe age, perceiving that those ladies who were best acquainted with books enjoyed most of her royal highness's attention, resolved to apply herself to * Tlie above lucky stroke of humour saved a whole family from destruction ; the following we have heard recorded contributed to the advancement of a deserving officer. A very tall gentle- man was appointed to a small sliip, where his cabin was every way inconvenient. After applying in vain to liis friends to get him promoted, he at last wrote up to the Admiralty Board, hu- mourously setting forth his grievance, who remitted an order for his immediate removal to a larger ship, reciting the words of the petition to this effect :— " Whereas A. B. of his Majesty's ship " .. has informed us that having the misfortune to be six feet " three inches hii;h, and liis cabin being neither in height nor " length, above four feet six inches, he can neither lie, sit, stand, " nor even kneel at his devotions : this is therefore to certify, " that we appoint him to the — «— , a ship commodious for all " tiie above purposes." study, as reading was so fashionable at court, m Older that she might get to the top of the mode as speedily as possible. Slie imparted this resolution to theduclicss, requesting her highness to lend her a book to begin. The duchess applauded her design, and promised to send her one of the most useful books in her library ; it was a French and German dic- fionary. Some days after, her highness enquired how she relished the book. Infinitely, replied this studious lady; it is the most delightful book I ever saw. Tiie sentences are all short, and easily under- stood, and the words charmingly arranged in ranks, like soldiers on the parade; whereas, in some other books which I have seen, they are mingled together in a confused manner, like a mere mob. I am no longer surprised, added she, at the satisfaction your royal highness takes in study. PUBLIC scnooLS. I HAVE perceived a certain hardihood and manli- ness of character in boys who have had a public education, superior to what appears in those of the same age, educated privately. At a public sclmol, though a general attention is paid to the whole, in many particulars, each boy is necessitated to decide and act for himself. His repu- tation among his companions depends solely on his own conduct. This gradually strengthens his mind, inspires firmness and decision, and prevents that wave- ringimbccility observable in those who have been long 10 accustomed to rely upon the assistance and opinion of others. The young mind has at a pul)lic school, the best chance of receiving those sentiments which incline the heart to friendship and correct selfishness. A boy perceives that courage, generosity, and gra- titude convmand the esteem and applause of all his companions; he cherishes these qualities in his own breast, and endeavours to connect himself in friend- ship with those who possess them. lie sees that meanness of spirit, ingratitud-c, and perfidy arc the objects of detestation. He shuns the boys who dis- play any of these otlious qualities. Boys of high rank and great fortune are apt 16 imbibe false ideas of their own importance, which in those impartial seminaries will be perfectly ascer- tained, and the real merit of the youths weighed in juster scales than are generally to be found in a pa- rent's house. The young peer will be taught by the masters, and still more effectually by his comrades, this most use- ful of all lessons, to expect distinction and esteem from personal qualities only; because no other can make him estimable, or even save him from contempt. He will see a dunce of high rank flogged with as little ceremony as the son of a tailor, and the richest cow- ard kicked about by his companions equally with the poorest poltroon. He will find that diligence, genius, and spirit are the true sources of superiority and applause, both within and without the school. Thus the active principle of emulation being allow- ed full play, in the public schools of England, ope- rates in various ways, and always with a good eflect. 11 MUSEUM, iM.v NY individuals ill Germany have cabinets of natural curiosities, and strangers cannot pay their court better than by requesting to sec them. This would be an easy piece of politeness, if the stranger were allowed to take a view and walk away when he thought proper; but the misfortune is, that the pro- jirietor attends on these occasions, and gives the his- tory of every piece of ore, petrifaction fossile, wood, and monster that is in the collection. As this lec- ture is given gratis, he assumes the right of making it as long as he pleases ; so that requesting a sight of a private collection of natural curiosities is a more tjcrious matter than pjrsons arc aware of. MEN OF LETTEllS. Yor can scarcely believe the influence wliich this body of men have in the gay and dissipated city of Paris. Their opinions not only determine the merit of works of taste and science, but tiwy have considerable weight on the manners and sentiments of people of rank and the public in general, and consequently are not without effect on the measures of government. 'I he manners of the fashionable world have also an obvious efi'ect upon the air, the behaviour and the conversation of the men of letters, which in penCr.ll is polite and c- lenuiity of established forms, have not Leen aiwavs the most distinguished for real knowledge or genius ; though generally they are most admired by liie mul- titude, who are very apt to mistake that gravity for wisdom, which proceeds from a literal weight of brain, and muddiness of understanding. Mistakes of the same kind arc frequently made in forming a judgment of books, as well as men. Those wliich pro- fcss a formal design to instruct and reform, and c:u- ry on the work methodically, till the reader is lulled into repose, have passed for deep and useful perfor- mances : wliilc others, replete with original observa- tions and real instruction, have been treated as fri- volous, because they are written in a familiar style, *nd the precepts conveyed in a sprightly and indirect nifinner. Tiii: nun:lKr and magnitude of Gothic churches in the dirte.rent countries of Europe, form a pre- sumption that the clergy were not devoid of public •28 spiiil iri tliosc days. For if the powcifiil ccflrsia'?- tics Ii.'kI then bcc-n entirely actuated by motives of Self interest, they would have turned the excessive influence which they had acquired over the minds of their lellow-citizcns to purposes more immediately advantageous to themselves; instead of encouraging them to raise magnificent churches, for the use of the public, they might have preached it up as still more meritorious to build fine houses and palaces for the injmediate servants and ambassadors of God. But we find very few eccleiiastical palaces, in com- parison with the number of churches, which still remaitlTur the public Cohvenioncy. 1'hts fcUfficii'iit- iy shews the injustice of those indi&crimjnating iftti- rists, who assert that the clergy in all ages and countries have displayed a spirit equally proud and interested. BRITISH EDUCATION. 1 AM of opinion that no country but Great Bri- tain is proper for thd'education of a British subject who proposes to pass his life in his own country. He will there acquire those sentiments, that particular turn and taste of mind, which will make him prefer the government, and relish the manner;:, the diversions, and general way of living which picvail in England. He will there acquire that character which dis- tinguishc? Englishmen from the natives of all the other countries of Europe, and which once attained, however it mav bo afterwards embellished i.>r dt'- formed. can never be entirely oli'aced. 29 It is thought that l^y an parly foreign eilucatioti, all ridiculous English prejudices will bt' avoided. This may be true ; but other prejudices, perhaps as ridiculous, and much more detrimental, will be formed; — prejudices which may render the young people unhappy in their own country, and disa- greeable to their countrymen all tlie rest of their lives. Popularity in England is of real importance; and the higher a man's rank is, the more he feels tho loss of it. It may be lost by the affectation of French manners. The prejudice against them is oot confined to the lower ranks, but dill'used over the whole nation. Therefore, the earliest period of every Englishman's education ought to be in Eng- MARIE AXTOINETTE, QUEKN OF ERAKCE*. She loved to descend from the throne, that she might enjoy the comforts of society. Her natural impressions as a woman had more influence on her conduct tiian the artificial deportment dictated to her as a (jueen. However necessary the pomp of cti(juetro and the frigidity of reserve may be to high- born dulncss and insipid vanity, they were tasteless and fatiguing to a beautiful and lively woman, in- spired with the desire, and conscious of the power of pleasing. Her heart delighted in the cunfulencc ol • It is scarcely iieccs-ary toob5cr\c th.-\t this aiticlc wns «rii- tcii during the iiuprisuinui-ui ot tliul uiifoitcuad priiiccs!! c> tt.c Tc iiplu D 3 30 Irienclsliip, and preferred that style of society where there was at least an appearance of equality. She distinguished people not so much by the various gra- dations and shades of heraldry, but as ihcy seemed more or less accomplished or amiable; and by this means mortally offended many illustrious persons of both sexes who had no pretensions of that nature. Fonder of ontortainmonts than her husband, she had often private suppers, where the usual topics of Parisian conversation, with all the vivacity and free- dom of the Parisian societies took place. This did not exist long without malignant inter- pretation. The prudes and duennas of the court, left out of the queen's parties, were offended. Had she been better able to support the languor of pomp and the slavery of etiquette, the eye of suspicion w ould have been lulled, or kept at a distance, the tongue of slander ever awed, and the gloom of for- mality removing all idea of pleasure, would have given the court the appearance of mere righteous- ness by being less gay. In a beautiful, sprightly, and unguarded -aoman calumny found an easy prey, and afterwards united with sedition, made a joint attack on the queen. She who seemed destined to give lasting peace and prosperity to France, was by malignity represented as the cause of public misery, and the determined enemy of the country. She fell at last the unfortunate and deeply la- mented victim of seditious assassins; but a generous firmness never forsook lier m her last moments, as well as in the most trying occasion ; of that firmness she gave a strong proof, when advised to withdraw tome time from Versailles, she answered, *' 1 am do 31 tcrmined never to forsake my husband: if the Pari- sians arc bent upon n>urdcriiig ino, I will die at the feet of the king * !" The annals of the unfortunate do not record any situation more dreadful than that of the unhappy Queen of France. The daughter of an empress, the sister of em- perors, the wife of a king lately considered as the most powerful in Europe, seems now more pre-emi- nent in wretchedness than ever she was in rank and splendor. She was not only a queen, but a beautiful wo- man; not oidy accustomed to the interested and ostentatious submission that attends power, but to that more pleasing attention and obedience which are paid to beauty. Fortune accompanied her friend- ship, and happiness her smiles. She found her wishes anticipated, and saw her very looks obeyed. How painful must now be the dreadful reverse ! Shut • Marie Antoinette exhibited an undisturbed circumspection «nd presence of mind in her answers to the most captious and in- sidious interrogatories, particularly when on the judge expressing furprise at her not knowing a person to whom she had rendered great services, she cahul^ replied : " It is possible for those who " confer favours to forget them, while those on whom they are " conferred find it impossible." Indeed the whole of her con- duct, from the moment of her confinement, tends to render tiiose tales wliich slander circulated to her prejudice with such avidity absolutely incredible : and the attachment, the fidelity and dig- nity which, in the most trying scenes, she manifested to her hus- band, her children, her friend:-, and her enemies, throw back a lu5tre on the imperial line from which she sprung brighter than that which she derived from it. up in a prison, surrounded with barbarians, wretches who rejoice in her calamity, and insult her sorrow! What has this most unl'ortunatc of women already suffered? What is yet reserved for her to endure? She has been shocked by the cruel murder of her most faithful servants and friends. She now suffers all the agonies of suspense — her heart throbbing from recent wounds, and her mind terrified, not for her own fate only, but for those of her sister, her hus- band, and her children. No ; the annals of the unfortunate do not record, nor has the imagination of the tragic poet invented any thing more dreadfully affecting than the misfortunes and sufferings of Ma- rie Antoinette, Queen of France ; and for ages to come, her name will never be pronounced without execrations against the unrelenting wretches who have treated her, and suffered her to be treated so inhumanly. LANDSCAPE PAINTING. The grand scale on which .ihe beauties of nature appear in Switzerland and the Alps, has b«?n consi- dered by some as too vast for the pencil ; but among the sweet hills and vallics of Italy her features are brought nearer the eye, arc fully seen and under- stood, and appear in all- the bloom of rural love- liness. Tivoli, Albano, and Frescati, therefore, arc the favourite abodes of the landscape painters who travel to this country for improvement ; in the opi- nion of some, these delightful villages furnish stu- dies better suited to the powers of their art, than even Switzerlanl itself. Nothing can surpas>s the admirable nssciublage of hills, mcadous, lakes, cUs- cadcs, gardens, ruins, groves, and terraces, which- charm the eye as you wander among the shades of Frescati and Albano, wliicii appear in new beauty as they are viewed from diti'erent points, and cap- tivate the beholder with endless variety. THE NAT UK A I, SON'. A PEIlso^' v.ho was struck with the symmetfr, vigour^ and address of a boy, who, with I. is school* fvllow, WMH jili^int^ »t t!i'lykyt| H^Hwd » )guti| lyt'tir his comrado, who ho was. The young lord, bursting into laughter, said, •« Vpu havo asked a questioji, Sir, very diCficuU to be answered; nobody knows who tho devil he b," Tho boy heard tho laugh, and suspecting some- thing insulting, walked up coolly to the young lord t '* May I request of your lordship to repeat what you. have just said," " All I have said," replied he in a set fling man- ner, '* is, that nobody knows what you are; you have the misfortune. Sir, not to be known." " And all I say in return is, that every body knows what V0'< are: you have the 7>iix/orC luic, \ny lord, tu be known." STREET ORATOUS. At Naples, they repeat, in a solemn raised v(.jir(»i and with great gesticulation, stanzas from variou* 34 Italian poets, adding occubional coininenlancj in {)I"OS0. At Venice, those mountebanks gain their liv(;li- liood by amusing the populace at bt. Mark's Place with wonderful and romantic bturica in piosc At Rome, those street orators sometimes enter- tain their audience with interesting passages of real history; one gave, f(jr iiistancc, a full and true at- covmt how the bloody iji-alhen emperor Nero set fire to the city of Rome, and sat at a window of his golden palace, playing vn a harp, while the town was in flames. After which the historian proceeded lo relate, how this unnatural emperor murdered his own mother; and then concluded by giving his au- dience the satisfaction of hearing a particular detail of all the ignominious circumstances attending the murderer's own death. This business of street oratory, while it amuses the populace, and keeps them from less innocent and more expensive pastimes, gives them at th» s^me time some general ideas of history. STATUES. liomt. Do not suspect me of affectation, when I tell you, that 1 have very great pleasure in contemplating the antique statues and busts. — It is a natural curiosity to see celebrated men, those whose talents and great qualities can alone render the present age an inte- resting object to posterity, and prevent its being lost like the dark ages which succeeded the destruction of the Roman empire, in the oblivious vortex oi S5 time, leaving scarcely a wreck behind. The hw^is and statues of a 2^/V^ and of a Frederic, those memo- rable men, will be viewed by succeeding generations ^vith the same regard and attention which we now bestow on those of Cicero and Ciesar. We expect to find somcthin2; peculiarly noble and expressive in features which were animated, and which we ima- gine must have been in some degree modelled by the sentiments of those to whom they belonged. It is not rank, it is character alone which interests po- sterity; we therefore give little attention to the busts or coins of the vulgar emperors. In the coun- tenance of Claudius we expect nothing mtu-e noble than the phlegmatic tranrpiillity of an acquiescing cuckold ; in Caligula or Nero, the unrelenting frown of a negro driver, or the insolent air of an unpiin- cij)led ruflian in power. But in the face of Julius we expect to find the traces of deep rcflecliun, miig- nanimity, and the anxiety natural to the man who had overturned the liberties of his native country; and in the face of JSIarcus Brutus we look for inde- pendence, conscious integrity, and a mind capable supposed to have followed — it prompted them to attempt the uniting, in one form, •the various beauties which nature had dispersed in many. Repeated efforts of this kind are imagined to have inspired some of the ancient sculptors with sub- limcr ideas of beauty than nature herself ever exhi- bited, as appears in some of their works which have reached our time. ^^'c^llust have a very high idea of the number of statues of one kind or other which were in old Rome, when we consider how many are still to be seen; how many have at difi'erent periods been carried away by the curious to every country in Europe; how many wore mutilated by the Gothic brutality of barbarians, 'and the ill-directed zeal of the early christians. Had tljey not been thus barbarously hewed to pieces, and buried (I had almost said) alive, we might have had several equal to the great masterpieces in the \a.~ tican. :natural tastf. I iTArrKXF.D lately to be at the Palazzo Pitti "^ith a person who is perfectly well acquainted witli Sill the })ictures of any merit in Florence. While he t^xplaincd the peculiar excellencies of Pirtro's man- ner, a gentleman in company (who, although he docs not pretend to the smallest skill in pictures, would rather remain ignorant for ever, than listen to th'e lectures of a connoisseur) walked on by himself into the other apartments, while I endeavoured to profit by my instructor's knowledge. When the other gentleman returned, he said, " I know no more of \rdinting than my pointer; but there is a picture in one of the other rooms which I would rather have than all those you seem to admire so much ; it is the portrait of a healthy handsome countrywoman, with her child in her anus. I cannot help thinking the colour very natural. The young woman's counte- nance is agreeable, and expressive of fondness and the joy of a mother o'er a first born. The child is a robust chubby-checked fellow, such as the son of a peasant should be." We followed him into the room, and the picture which pleased him so mucli was the famous Ma- donna dcUa Seggiola of Raphael. Our instructor immediately called out, " Iha .'" and ])ronounced him a man of genuine taste; because without pre- vious knowledge or instruction, he had fixed his ad- miration on the finest picture in Tlorcnce. But this gentleman, as soon as he understood what the pic- ture was, disclaimed all title to praise; " Because," said he, " although when I considered that picture simply as the representation of a blooming country wench hugging her child, I admired the art of the painter, and thought it one of the truest copies of nature 1 ever saw; yet I confess my admiration is much abated, now that you inform me his intention was to represent the Virgin IMary."— " Why so r" replied the Cicerone; " the Virgin Mary was not of higher rank : she was but a poor woman, living in a little village in Galiilce," — " No rank in life," said the other, " could give additional dignity to the per- .<;on who had been told by an angel from llea\ en, that she had found favour with God ; that her son should be called the Son of the Highest, and who herself was conscious of all tiic miraculous circumstances £ 38 ?Jtoiidi)ig his conception and birth. In the counlc- nancc of such a woman, besides comeliness, and the usual aficction of a mother, I looked for the most lively expressions of admiration, gratitude, virgin modesty, and divine love. And when I am told, the picture is by the greatest painter that ever lived, I am disappointed in perceiving no traces of that kind in it." — What justice there is in this gentle- man's remarks, I leave it to better judges than I pretend to be, to determine. THE SOrXH AND NOUTII BRITOX. " Do you really, in your conscience," said an Knglishman to a Scotchman, " imagine that the Forth is a finer river than the Thames ?" — " The Thames !" exclaimed the North Briton ; " why, my dear Sir, the Thames at London is a mere gutter in comparison of the Frith of Forth at Edinburgh." — " I suppose, then," said the Englishman, " that you do jiot approve of the view of Windsor castle ?" — " I ask your pardon," replied the other, *' I approve it very much — it is an exceeding pretty kind of a pros- pect : the country appears from it as agreeable to the sight as any plain flat country, crowded with trees and intersected by inclosures, can well do; but J own I am of opinion, that mere fertile fields, woods, rivers and meadows can never of themselves per- fectly satisfy the eye." — " You imagine, no doubt," said the Englishman,. " that a few heath-covered mountains and rocks embellish a country very much ?" — " I am precisely of that opinion," said the Scot; " and you will as soon convince mc that a 39 woman may bo completely boautilul with line eyes, good teeth, and a fair complexion, thougli she should not have a nose on her face, as that a landscape or country can be completely beautiful without a moun- tain." — " What do you think," saiil the English- man, " of the palace of St. James's ?" — " It is," ♦'xclaimed the Scot, " a scunilal to the nation; it is both a shame and a sin, tliat so great a monarch as tlic King of Scotland, England, and Ireland, with his royal family, should live in a shabby old cloister, hardly good enough for monks. The palace of llolyrood-house, indeed, is a residence tit for a king." — " And the gardens — pray what sort of gardens have you belonging to that palace?" said the Eng- lishman ; " I have been told you do not excel in those." — " But we excel in gardeners,^' replied the other, " which arc as much preferable as the creator is preferable to the created." — " I am surprised, however," rejoined the South Briton, '* that in a no country like yours, where there arc so many creators, so very few fruit gardens arc created." — " ^Vh)-, Sir, it is not to be expected," said the Scotchman, " that any one country will excel in every thing. Some enjoy a climate more favourable for peaches, emd vines, and nectarines ; but by G , Sir, country on earth produces better men and womert than Scotland." — " I dare say, none does," replied the other : " so as Erance excels in wine, England ill wool and oxen, Arabia in horses, and other coun- tries in other animals, you imagine Scotland excels all otiiurs in the human species." — " What I said, Sir, was, that the human species in no country ex-' celled those in Scotland." — " You will then permit me to observe," said the Englishman, " that men E 2 40 being its staple commodity, it must be owned tiiat Scotland carries on a brisk trade of exportation; you will find Scotchmen in all countiics of the world." — " So much the better i'or all the countries of tho world," said the Scotchman; " for every body knows that the Scotch cultivate and improve the arts- and sciences wherever they go. — But there are va- rious reasons," continued he, " for so many of my countrymen sojourning in London : that city is now in some measure the capital of Scotland as well as of England. Upon the whole, the advantages which England derives from the union are manifest." — " I shall be obliged to you," said the Englishman, " if you will enumerate a few of them." — " Has she not," resumed the Scot, " has she not greatly increased in wealth since that time ? Has she not acquired a million and half of subjects? Has she not acquired security? There is no door open now, Sir, by which the French can enter into your country : they dare as soon be d' as attempt to invade Scotland. Without a perfect union with Scotland, England could not enjoy the principal benefit she derives from her insular situation." — " Not till Scotland should be subdued," said the Englishman. — " Subdued !" re- peated the astonished Scot; " let me tell you, Sir, that it is a very strange hypothesis; if you are con- versant in history you will lind, that after the declino of the Roman empire, the course of conquest was from the 7wrt/i to the south." — " You mean," said the South JViton, " that Scotland would have con- quered England."-—" Sir," replied the other, " I think the English as brave a nation as ever existed , and therefore I will not sny that the Scotch are braver; but 1 am sure, that rather than submit, they 41 would try to subdue the EnjilUh, and you will admit that thfi trial would be no advantage to either coun- try." — " Although I am fully convinced/' said the Englishman. " how the experiment would end, I should be sorry to see it made." — " Yet, Sir, there are people of your country, as I am told, w ho endea- vour to exasperate the minds of the inhabitants of one part of Great Britaiu against the natives of the other, and to create dissensions between two coun- tries whose mutual safety depends on their good agreement; two countries whom nature herself, by separating them from the rest of the world, and en- circling them with her azure bond of union, seems to liavc intended for one." — " I do assure you, my good Sir," said the English gentleman, " I am not of the number of those who wish to raise such dissension. I love the Scotch ; I always thought them a sensible and gallant people." — " You are a man of honour and discernment," said the Caledonian, seizing him eagerly by the hand; " and I protest, without pre- judice or partiality, that I never knew a man of tlij^t charAcler who was not of your way of thinking." FLOnEN'CE Is unquestionably a very beautiful city. Inde- pendent of the churches and palaces, some of which are very magnificent, the architectvire of the houses in general is in a good taste, the streets are remarkably clean, and paved with large broad stones, chiselled so as to prevent thf horses from sliding. This city is divided into two unccpial parts by the river Arno, over which there are no less E 3 ¥2 than four bridges in bight of eacli other. That called the Ponte Delia Trinita is uncommonly ele- gant: it is built entirely of white marble, and orna- mented with four beautiful statues, representing the four seasons. The quays, the buildings on each side, and the bridges, render that part of Florence through which the river rum, by far the finest. The mimber of inhabitants in Florence is cal- culated by some at eighty thousand. The streets, squares, and fronts of the palaces are adorned with a great number of statues; some of whom by the best modern ma.sters, Michael Angelo, BandincUi, Donatello, Giovani di Bologna, Benvenulo, Cellini^ and others. A taste for the arts must be kept alive, independent almost of any other encouragement, in a city where so many specimens are continually be- fore the eyes of the inhabitants. Florence has been equally distinguished by a spirit for commerce and for the tine arts — two things ivhich are not always united. Some of the Floren- tine merchants formerly were men of vast wealth, and lived in a most magnificent manner. One of them, about the middle of the fifteenth century, built that noble fabric, which, from the naniC of its founder, is still called the Palazzo Pitti. The man was ruined by the prodigious expence of this building, which was immediately purchased by the Medici family, and has continued ever ^incc to be the residence of the sovereigns. The gardens belonging to this palace are on the declivity of an eniinence. On the summit there is a kind of fort, called Belvedere. From this you have a complete view of Florence, and the beauteous vale of Arno, in the middle of wixich it stands. The prospect is bounded on every side by an anipliitlicatrc of fertile hills, adorned with country houses and gardens. Society seems to be on an easy and agreeable foot- ing in Florence. Besides the conversaziones which tliey have here as in other towns of Italy, a number of the nobility meet every day at a house called the Casino. This society is pretty much on the same looting witli the clubs in London. Tiiey meet at no particular hour. They play at billiards, cards, and other games, or continue conversing the whole evening. They are served with tea, coftee, lemon- ade, ices, or what other refreshment they choose. Women as well as men are members of this club. The opera at Florence is a place where the people of quality pay and receive visits, and converse as freely as at the Casino above mentioned. On the evenings on which there is no opera, it is usual for the genteel company to drive to a public walk immediately without the city, where they re- inaiii till it begins to grow duskish. 'J'lio Jews arc not held in that degree of odium, or subjected to the same humiliating distinctiona liore in Florence, as in some otiicr cities in Europe. Some of the richest merchants arc of that religion. Few cities in Europe of the same size as Florence a (lord so fine a rield of amusement to those who are fond of churches, palaces, public buildings, 6cc, But the lovers of architecture will be shocked to find seve- ral of the finest churches without fronts, which, ac- cording to some, is owing to a real deficiency of mo- ney ; while others assert, they are left in this condi- tion as a pretext for levying contributions to finish them. The chapel of St. Lorenzo is, perhaps, the fine'^l and most expensive habitation that ever was 44 re;ir(^d for the (load. It is encrusted with precious stones, and adorned with tlic workmanship of the best modern sculptors. — Some complain that it has a gloomy appearance. There seems to be no impro- priety in that, considering what the building was intended for. The statues which ornament the streets and squares of Florence amount to about one hundred and fifty; many of them of exquisite workmanship, and admired by those of the best taste. Churches, and palaces, and statues are no doubt ornamental to a city; and the princes are praise- worthy who have taken pains to rear and collect them; but the greatest of all ornaments are cheerful happy living countenances. The taste is not gene- ral ; but there arc some people, who, to a perfect knowledge and unaffected love of the fine arts, join a passion for a collection of this kind, who cannot without uneasiness see one face in a different style, and whose lives and fortunes are employed in smoothing the corrosions of penury and misfortune, and restoring the anginal air of satisfaction and cheerfulness ro the human countenance. Happy the people whose sovereign is inspired with this species of xcrtu ! UTILITY OF TIIAVELLING ABROAD, Park. TiiEiiE are so many resources at Paris, that it always requires a great effort to write letters of any considerable length from such a place. But now that I have resolution to take up my pen, I shall en- deavour to clear the debt for which you dun me so unmercifully. I own I am surprised that you should 45 rc(|nirp my opinion on the iif^cs of forciiin travel, after in-rusing (as you must have done) thecliulogucs lately ])ulilishe(l by an oniinont divine, eciiially dis- tinguished for his learning and taste. After a young man has employed his time to ad- vantage at a public school, and has continued his application to various branches of science till the :ige of twenty, you ask what are the advantages he is likely to reap from a tour abroad. lie will see mankind more at large, and in num- berless situations nnd points of view in which they cannot appear in England, or any ono country. 'By comparing the various customs and usages, and hearing the received opinions of different countries, his mind will be enlarged. He will be enabled to correct the theorolicnl notions he may have formed of human nature, by the practical knowledge of men. By contemplating their various religions, laws, and governments, in action, as it were, and observing the effects they produce on the minds and charac- ters of the people, he will be able to form a justcr estimate of their value than otherwise he coidd have done. lie will see the natives of other countries, not as he sees them in England, mere idle specta- tors, but busily employed in their various charac- ters, as actors on their own proper stage, lie will gradually improve in the knowledge of c/iaracfer, not of Englishmen only, but of men in general;* ho • ^VIloovcr admits tluii lliis line,— • '• 'iliL' piopvr study ol' mankind, u man," rDiit.iiii^ just and solid si-nse, ni\is( ackiiowli^dgc tlic utility >>f tiavclling; lor il mny be safely afTirnicd tliat a man learus ttt 4a •^ili frasc to be dtH-civcd vitlicr b\ llic varjiisli wicff whic'li men are aj)t to heighten their own actions, or ihe clarii colours in which they too often paint those of others. He will learn to distinguish tl»e real from the ostensible motive of men's words and beha- viour. Finally, by being received with hospitality, conversing familiarly, and living in the reciprocal exchange of good oflices with those whom he consi- ders as enemies, or in some unfavourable point of view, the sphere of his benevolence and good will to his brethren will gradually eidarge. His friendships extending beyond the limits of his own country, will embrace characters congenial with his own in other nations. Seas, mountains, rivers are geogra- phical boundaries, but they never limited the good will or esteem of one liberal mind. As for his man- ner, though it will probably not be so janty as if he had been bred in France from his earliest youth, yet that also will in some degree be improved.* know the world better by a few years travelling than he can by a number of years spent at home. At home his faculties often sleep ; abroad they are always awake. The great variety of cha- racters that pass through his hands keeps his parts continually in exercise. He is perpetually studying, even without thinking he is studying. lie lives much in a little time. He acquires experience early and with ease. Every pore lets in new light on his mind. He finds a tone, a change of countenance, a sudden word to be surer indications of a man's inside than long set speeches or laboured dissertations. Thus those who are pe'~ culiarly gifted by nature will gain much by travels. * Politeness is not one of the cardinal virtues ; but it is the very first of those of Ihe second order. It is Vlie younger sister of humanity ; and contributes infinitely to the happiness of So- ciety. In a certain degree it resembles mercy. " It ist^ice blessed : it blesseth liira that gives, and him that takes," Every one feels a pleasure in giving pleasure to others j and wlvit pleasei all the world more than poUteucss. 47 A young man of fortune, by spending a few years ■abroad, will gratify a natural and laudable curiosity, and puss a certain portion of his life in an agreeable manner. He will form an -acquaintance with that boasted nation whose superior taste and politeness are universally acknowledged; w-hose fashions and language are adopted by all Europe; and who in science, in power, and commerce are tlie rivals of Great Britain. He will have opportunities of ob- serving the political constitution of the German em- pire — that complex body, fo-rmod by a confederacy of princes, ecclesiastics, and free cities, comprc«- liending countries of vast extent, inhabited by a liardy race of men, distinguished for solid sense and integrity, who, without having equalled their sprightlicr neighbours in works of taste or imagina- tion, have shewn what prodigious efforts of applica- tion the human mind is capable of in the severest and least amusing studies, and whose armies exhibit the most perfect models of military discipline. A'iewing the remains of Roman ta5?tc, he will foci a thousand ■emotions of the most interesting nature; while those whose minds are not Hke his, stored with classical knowledge, gaze with tasteless won- der, or phlegmatic indifi'erence; and exclusive of those monuments of antiquity, he will naturally de- sire to be acquainted with the present inhabitants of a country which at different periods has produced men, who, by one means or another, have distin- guished themselves so eminently from their coteni- poraries of other nations. At one period, having subdued the world by wisdom and fu'mncss of their councils, and the disciplined vigour of tlieir armies, 48 Rome, became at once the scut of t.'ini)irc, learning, and the arts. Lastly, by visiting other countries, a subject of Great Britain will acquire a greater esteem than ever for the constitution of his own. Freed from vulgar prejudices, he will perceive that the blessings and advantages which his countrymen enjoy, do not flow from their superiority in wisdom, courage, or virtue over tlic other nations of the world, but in some degree from the peculiarity of their situation in an island; and above all, from those just and equitable laws which secure property, that mild free govern- ment which abhors tyranny, protects the meanest subject, and leaves the mind of man to its own ex- ertions, unrestrained by those arbitrary, capricious, and impolitic shackles which confine and weaken its noblest endeavours in almost every other country in Europe. This animates industry, creates fertility, and scatters plenty over the boisterous island of Great Britain, with a ])rofusion unknown in the neighbouring nations, who behold with astonish- ment so many British subjects roaming discontented through the lands of despotism in search of that happiness which they have a much better prospect of enjoying in their own country. Coclum non animum mutant qui iransmaie currunt, Slrciuia nor excrcet inertia, iiavibus atque Quadrigis pctinius bene vivere. Quod pclis, liic est.* If they, who througli the vent'rous dcean range, Not their own passions, but the climate, change. Anxious through seas and lands, to search for rest. Is but laborious idleness at best. 49 JUBILEE Is a cciemoiiy evidently in imitation of the Ilo- inan secular games whicli «ere cxhibitctl every hun- dredth year in honour of the gods.* They lasted three days and three nights; they were attended with great pomp, and drew vast numbers of people to Rome from aK parts of Italy and the most distant provinces. Boniface the Kighth recollecting this, determined in the year 1300 to introduce something analogous, which might immortalise his own name, promote the interest of the Roman Catholic religion in gene- ral, and that of the city of Rome in particular. He invented a few extraordinary ceremonies, and declared ihe year 1300 the tirst jubilee year, during which he assured mankind that Heaven would be in a particular manner propitious in granting indul- gcncics and remisj^ion of sins to all who should come to Rome, and attend the functions there to be per- formed at this fortunate period, which was not to occur again for a hundred years. 1 his drew a great concourse of wealthy sinners to Rome; and the ex- traordinary circulation of money it occa'-ii>ned wa'S strongly felt all over the pope's dominiiMi";. Clement the Sixth, regretting that these advan- tages shouUl occur so seldom, abridged the period, and declared there would be a jubileo every fifty years; the second was accordingly celebrated in thtf year 13jO. • TTie Carmen Sfculare of Horace was compos.il on orcasion of those celebrated by Augustus in tlic year ol Koine, 730. V 50 Sixtus the Fifth iiiiaginiim; that tlic space was still too long, once more retrenched the hall"; and ever since lliere has been a jubilee every twenty-fifth year. It is not likely that any future pope will think of shortening this period ; for instead of the wealthy pilgrims who flocked anciently to Rome from every quarter of Christendom, most of those who come now arc supported by alms during their journey, or are barely able to defray their own cxpences by the strictest a-conomy; and his holiness at present is supposed to derive no other advantage from the uncommon fatigue he is obliged to go through on the jubilee year except the satisfaction he feels in reflecting on the benefit his labours confer on the souls of the beggars, and other travellers, who resort from all corners of Italy to Rome on this blessed occasion. The states which border on the pope's dominions suffer many temporal inconveniencies from the zeal of the peasants and manufacturers, the greater part of whom still make a point of visiting St. Peter's on the jubilee year. The loss sustained by the coun- tries which such emigrants abandon, is not balanced by any advantage transferred to that to which they resort, the good arising in the whole being entirely of a spiritual nature. The greater number of pil- grims come from the kingdom of Naples, whose in- habitants arc said to be of a very devout and very amorous disposition. The first prompts them to go to Rome in search cf that absolution which the second renders necessary ; and on the year of jubi- lee, when indulgences are to be had at an easier rate than at any other time, those who can afford it, gc- Dcrally carry away such a stock as not only is suffi- 51 cicnt to clear old scores, but w ill also serve as an iii- tlcmiiitying fund for future transgressions. IGNOUANCE OF PHYSICIANS. Alas ! how is it possible that physicians should avoid mistakes ? If the ablest mechanic were to at-, tempt to remedy the irregular movements of a watch, while he remained ignorant of the structure and manner of acting of some of the principal springs, would he not be in danger of doing harm instead of good ? Physicians arc in the situation of such a mechanic ; for although it is evident that the nerves are tiie organs of motion and sensation, yet their structure is not known. Some anatomists as- ^»ert they are impervious chords; others, that they are slender tubes, containing a fluid. But what the nature of this (luid is, whether it servos only to nou- rish the nerves themselves, or is the medium by which they convey feeling and tlie power of motion to other parts, is not aicertained even by those who argue for its existence; far less is it explained in what manner ideas, formed within the brain, can, by the means of solid chords, or by a fluid contained in tubes, communicate motion at pleasure to the legs and arms. We arc ignorant why the will, which has no influ- ence over the motion of an animal's heart, should fnul tlie feet obedient to her dictates; and we can no more explain how a man can move one leg over tlie other by volition or the mere act of willing, than liow he could by the same means move Ossa on the Olympus. The one happens every moment; tin; i- 2 52 other would be considered as a miracle; but they arecfiuaily unaccountable. WJiile parts so infinitely essential to human life are not understood, instead of being surprised that so many diseases baffle the skill of the physician, we have more reason to be astonished that any can be alleviated or cured by his art. ENGLAND. Let me address to the empty declaimers of oppo- sitionthe following eloquent eulogy on England, pro- nounced by Mirabeau in the French national assem- bly. " England is ruined, you say; ah! great God! what dreadful news! Where ov by what means is England destroyed ? By what earthquake or convul- sions of nature has that famous island been swallow- ed up I That abounding theatre of great action, that classic ground of liberty. No— En;Tland still flou- rishes for the eternal instruction of the world ; Eng- land developes every species of industry, and traces every source of human prosperity." IGNORANCE. Those whose importance and wealth arise from oppressive privilege, or enjoyment of sinecure ofiicv-s, wish every abuse to remain -sacred and untouched, and fear nothing so much as the difi'usicn of know- 53 Icdgo. They consider the exorcise of reason as a curse to the lower classes of society ; and execrate philosophy and philosophers as the disturbers of the peace of mankind. They quote in support of these assertions the criines of the French Revolution. By the same tr-iin of reasoning, they might endeavour to prove that lamps and candles, and all the inventions by which men have contrived to obtain light and dissi- pate darkness are pernicious to society, because house- breakers and murderers make use of dark lanterns. Because the patriotism of many Frenchmen at the beginning of the revolution, to reform abuses, and obtain a free constitution, has failed of success, is mankind never fo make a 5-imilar attempt again, but rather to combine in establishing despotic govern- ments of Herculean force to crush the Hydra de- mocracy wherever she tries to rear her savage head? As the spirit of freedom in France has been perverted to the most wicked purposes, is the spirit of passive obedience and slavish submission to be alone cherish- ed in every country, and honoured by every go\crn- mcnt, for the tranquillity of the human race? Com- pletely to secure the peace of all the governing pow- ers, would it be expedient to grant it the authority in times of alarm, to oblige all suspected persons to wear fetters, since nobody can deny the wisdom and justice of putting madmen and murderers in chains? GENEVA, AS IT WAS. The situation of Geneva is in many r spects as happy as the heart of man could desire, or his r a 54 imaginalion conceive. 1'he Rliono, rusliing otit lA the noblest lake of Europe, flows through the middle of the city, which is encircled by fertile fields, culti- vated by the industry, and adorned by the riches and taste of the inhabitants. With these advantai^cs, the citizens of Geneva en- joy freedom untainted by licentiousness, and security unbought by the horrors of war. The great number of men of letters who either are members of the place, or have chosen it for their residence, the decent manners, the easy circum- stances, and humane dispositions of the Gencvois in general, render this city and its environs a very desirable retreat for people of a philost)phic turn of mind, who are contented with moderate and calm enjoyments, have no local attachments, or do- mestic reasons for preferring another country, and Mho wish in a certain degree to retire from the bustle of the world to a narrower and calmer scene, and there for the rest of their days l^ucere sollicil-.e jucunda oblivia vitiv. In swfct oblivion, blissful biilni. The busy cares of life becalm. ^ Here the amusements of life are few in number, and of a moderate kind ; the hours glide along very smoothly, and though they are not always quickened by pleasure, they are unretarded by languor, and un- ruffled by remorse. As education here is equally chcxip and liberal, the citizens of Geneva of both sexes are remarkably well instructed. 1 do not imagine that any country » 53 in the world can produce an cijual number of ijcrsons' (taken witliout election from all degrees and professions) with minds so much cultivated as the in- habitants of Geneva possess. The democratical nature of their <;overnment in- spires every citizen with the idea of iiis own impor- tance: he perceives that no man in the republic can insult or even neglect him with impunity. There is not, I may venture to say, a city in Europe where the minds of the people are less inuh-r the influence of superstition or fanatical enthu- siasm than at Gonc'va. Its clergy in gcn'cral are men of sense, learning, and moderation, impressing upon the minds of their hearers the tenets of Christianity with all the graces of pulpit elofpience, and illustrating the efficacy of the doctrine by their conduct in life. The people of every station in tliis place attend sermons and the pid)lic worship witli remarkable punctuality. The Sunday is honored with the most respectful devotion iiuring the hours of divine service ; but as soon as it IS over all the usual amusements conunence. The pui)lic walks are crowded by all degrees of p(>ople in their best dresses. The different societies, and what they call circles, assemble in the houses and gardens of individuals: they play at cards and at l)o\vls, and have parties upon the lake with music. The iiiglii'r classes of the citizens have country houses adjacent to the town, where they pass one half of the year, 'i'hese houses arc all of them neat, and some of them splendid. One piece of magnifi- cence they possess in greater ])criection than the most superb villa of the gieatest lord in any other &6 part of the world can bo;l^t, I mean the prospect", wliicli almost all of tbcm command — the gardens and vineyards of the icpuhlic — the Pays dc V'and— Gc- n«!va with its lake — innumerable country scats — cas- tles and little towns around the lake — the vallies of Savoy — and the lofty mountains of the Alps, all witliin one sweep of tiie eye. The state keep in pay a garrison of six hundred mercenaries, who mount guard and do duty every day. But they do not trust the safety of the repub- lic to these aloflc ; all citizens of Geneva are soldiers. As they receive no pay, and as the officers are their fellow-citizens, it cannot be imagined that these troops will perform the manual exercise and military evolutions with the exactness of soldiers who have no other occupation, and who are under all the rigour of military discipline. Nevertheless they make a respectable figure in the eyes even of disinterested spectators, who are, how- ever, but few in number, the greater part consisting of their own parents, wives, and children. So I dare swear there are no troops in the world who, at a review, are beheld with more approbation than those of Geneva. Like a free state it is exposed to party rage, and the public harlnony is frequently interrupted by poli- tical squabbles. There arc some politicians of Geneva who deride, themselves, the little military establishment of the republic, and declaim against the needless cxpence of keeping the fortifications in repair. Were I a member of the republic, I should have no patience with these discouraging inal-contcnts, 57 who endeavour to embitter a source of real en- joyment. It must be acknowledged, however, that the most solid security Geneva has for its independency is the mutual jealousy of its neighbours.* POLITICAL BLINDXESS. TifE records of the world do not afford a more striking example of tlic sliort-si^htedncss of those celebrated for the most penetrating judgment than the following speech of Mirabcau in the national assembly, contrasted w ith all the scenes of the French revolution. " How honourable will it be for France that this great revoluti«)n should be accomplished without offence and without crimes! Some of the most consi- derable states have not been able to obtain liberty but * With the most extreme sorrow the Editor must inform the reader, who might be a stranger to the political events of the last five j'ears, that tliis security no lonn;cr exists. The indepen- dence of his native city is no more. " Geneva presents," saj-s a late French traveller, " to tlie obscrvw an interesting spec- " tacle ; notwitlistand'uig Iwr re-union to France, she has been " able to preserve a peculiar character ; or if I may so express " myself, a peculiar physiognomy wJiich renders lier still worthy " of the attention of a pliilosopher. She resemljles that fabulous " stream, whose waters preserved their purity even in the " midst of the sea." What a confession from the moutli of a Frenchman ? How glorious for Geneva ? But if lujr union to France cannot be entirely effected, why attempt it ? How guilty is the government, which has wantonly de])rived that small repuljlic of her most in\aluable adxantage; her freedom aud jiulcpeudciKe.'~-F. t*. 58 at tliccxpciico of tlic most precious blood. England untlcivvtnit a whole age of civil \vais and convuUions before she had her laws confirmed. America herself did not enjoy that inestimable blessing, liberty, until after many desperate and bloody battles. And we have the happiness to see a revolution of the same nature brought about by the union of enlightened minds with patriotic intentions. Our battles are mere discussions ; our enemies have pardonable prejudices; our victories, so far from being cruel, will be blessed by the conquered themselves." Mirabeau himself did not live long enough to be a witness or a victim of the cruellest of these scenes of anarchy or bloodshed, so contrary to his expectations, which soon followed. — A noblesse de- graded and driven into exile — a clergy massacred — the most distinguished deputies brought to the scaffold — a tribunal of assassins, the instruments of a thousand murders — and instead of liberty and eqality, a despotism which rendered the whole in- habitants of France equalli/ slaves — the hopes of many millions of men miserably blasted. The friends of rational freedom who had beheld its beginning in France, saw then its degeneracy with disappointment, grief, and horror. GENEROSITY. It is an error to imagine that men in the lowest rank of life are unsusceptible of heroic and gene- rous sentiments. All who are susceptible of cu- ibusiasm are capable of being actuated by them. It is the minions of fortune, those who have bccu 59 pampered from their iiifuncy, by llie liaiuls of luxury, and early accustomed to every kind of profusion, V hose minds sink into torpor for want of exertion ; it is such as those that are UTore likely to be unsus- ceptible of generous sentiments. riRMNESS. An Englisii sailor was tricul for a robjjery lie had committed on the highway While his doom was pronouncing, he raised a piece of rolled tobacco to his mouth, held it between his teeth till he heard the sentence of death pronounced upon him. lie then bit olfa piece of tobacco, and began to chew it with great unconcern ; Sirrah, said the judge, piqued at the man's inditlerence, do you know that you are to be hanged iu a short time?— So I hear, said the sailor, squirting a little tobacco juice from his mouth. —Do you know, rejoined the judge, where you will go when you die? — I cannot tell indeed, an't please your honour, said the sailor.— Why, th«rn, cried the judge, with a tremendous voice, I will tell you: you will go to hell, you villain, and there be burnt to all eternity. — If I should, replied the sailor, with perfect tranquillity, I hope, my Lord, 1 shall be able !o bear it. ILL-IATED MUKDEnKK. A y.vTiVF. of Berlin, had accompanied some of liis companions to the house of a fellow who as- sumed the character of a fortune-teller; and having 60 '^sobligcd him, by expressing a contempt of his art, the fcUow, out of revenge, prophesied, that this man sliould die on a scafiold. 'J'his seemed to make little impression at the thuo, but afterwards recur- red oiten to tliis unhappy creature's memory, and became every day more troublesome to his imagi- nation. ---At length -the idea hautited his mind so in- cessantly, that he was rendered perfectly miserable, arid could no longer endure life. lie would have ^:)Ut himself to death with his own hands had he not been deterred by the notion, that Ciod Almighty never forgave suicide; He resolved therefore to commit murder; that he might be de- prived of life by the hands of justice; and mingling a sentiment of benevolence with the cruelty of his intention, he reflected, that if he murdered a grown person, he might possibly send a soul to hell. I'o avoid this he determined to murder a cliild, who could not have committed any sin, but dying iu iimocence would go immediately to heaven. lie actually murdered an infant of his master's. Sucii was the strange account this infatuated creature gave on his trial; and thus the random prophecy proved the cause of its own completion. LCUIS THE SIXTEENTH. From all I have iieard of that ^lonarch, he is a man of integrity, devoid of ambition, but with an imcommon share of indolence; w4iosc disposition is better than his understanding; and his understanding superior to his conduct : whose inclinations are na- turally benevolent; whose opinions arc generally 61 just, but whose actions arc sometimes improper, "be- cause they are influenced by those who possess less rectitude than himscU'. Tiic whole reign of Louis, has been a reign of mo- deration. He has always manifested a desire to meet the wishes of his subjects. I am persuaded that none of his ancestors had so just a claim to the epi- thets which the public and historians have affixed to their names, as the unfortunate Louis XVI. has to that of Loui)i le trap bun. Terror has acted a principal part since the be- ginning of the French Revolution. Terror prevented sympathy from appearing in the faces of many v. ho felt it in their hearts for the unfortunate monarch, during his process, and terror at last pronounced the sentence of his death. Thus did the French nation, who had endured the cruelties of Louis the Eleventh, the treachery of Charles the Ninth, and the tyranny of Louis the Fourteenth, condemn and execute for the pretended crimes of cruelty, treachery, tyranny, the mildest, must just, and least tyrannical prince that ever sat on their throne. The whole of his behaviour in the last and dismal scene of his life shews a manly and christian resig- nation, to a fate which he thought inevitable, and pro\cd tliat his hopes were removed from earth to hcttven*. • Ixmjs XVI. displayed in his last will a degree of Christian resignation which equals, and a dciirncy and tenderness of sen- timent which surpasses any thing recorded of tiic most celebrated /niutyrs of the Roman church, G 6'2 JOHN' BULL. "Whex my honest friend is in a choleric humour, he will not spare his best friends and nearest neigh- bours. — If his own sister Peg should shew a disposi- tion to forget old squabbles, to live in friendship with her brother, and should declare that all who renounced his friendship were her enemies, and resolve to conquer by his side, or if that should fail, to die hard along with him — No, d n ye, says John, none of your coaxing; you be d dl you are farther north than I — K«»op your distance. — And so ho falls a pelting Peg with her own snow balls ; and then turning from her he attacks Lewis Baboon, Lord Strut, Lord Peter, and dashes their soups maigre, alios, and maccaroni, full in their teeth. ARTIST S MODESTY, A PAiMTEU and great connoisseur whom the King of Prussia, Frederic the Great, had disgusted by rejecting some pictures of his recommending, said, speaking of the King, the man imagines, be- cause he can play on the German flute and has been praised by a parcel of Poets and Philosophers, and has gained ten or a dozen of battles, that there- fore he understands painting; but fighting battles is one thing, and a true knowledge of painting is another, and that he will find to his cost. 63 DESPOTISM AXD ANARCHY. Of all the evils which have attended the FrencU revolution, the most important to mankind in ge- neral, is perhaps that it weakens the indignation which every liberal mind naturally tVels foi despo- tism, and inclines them to submit to the awful tran- quillity of methodised oppression, rather than risk such scenes of anarchy and carnage as have been exhibited lately in France. Yet it ought to be remembered that despoti-jra, though less savage, is more hoj)eless than anarchy, which contains within itself the seeds of its own destruction ; whereas, the pillars of despotism, being artfully arranged for the support of each other, as well as of that of the general fabric, may stand for ages. Besides, every nation is not possessed of the im- petuosity of the French, which at the first sensation of freedom has hurried them headlong into excesses without any rational object. Like the lunatic who makes use of his liberty in attacking every body around and fighting fuiiously, till his strength being exhausted, he is again brought back to his fetters. MISTAKEN VANITY. Those who have had the curiosity to visit the houses of Princes and villas of nobilit}^ may have remarked with what ostentation and pride the house- keeper and servants conduct strangers through m:ig- G 2 6'4. iiificont apartments: they enjoy the admiration of the visitors, and swell with self-importance in pro- portion to the richness of furniture. They are not," however, more grossly mistaken than those proprie- tors, who, deriving ail their importance from the ^anie quarter, think it amounts to a great deal. MODEST LETTER. The following translation of some fragments of a letter from Rouyer, a member of the Convention, to the unfortunate Louis XVI, found in an iron chest, concealed in a cavity of the wall of the pa- lace ; affords one of the strongest proofs of sel^ sufficiency and presumption that has been recorded in history or fable since the days of Phaeton. March 179?. " SIRE, " Deeply concerned for the misfortunes of my country, I have also reflected on her innumerable > resources; I have sounded her wounds, and calcu- lated her force. " I have a secret which will within two months heal her wounds, dissipate her alarms, annihilate her dangers, and restore to France the tranquillity vhich has fled from her, and the dignity, which be- comes her ; and to the crown the public love which renders it secure, and the splendor which adorns it. " Sire, if you place the whole power of the state in my hands, I engage to rc-c^^labiish peace within, importance from without, general felicity and the royal authority. 65 " I will reveal to you what your Ministers con- coal, and I will instruct you iu what they are igno- rant. " I am so well acquainted, Sire, with our force, that on contemplating the enemies which threaten us, I can scarcely suppress a sentiment of pity. " I have thrown my eyes on all the courts of Europe, and I am certain of being able to force them into Peace. '* I shall enjoy in silence the fruit of my counsel* —Satisfied with the general prosperity, I shall direct the gratitude to your Majesty." The above letter is truly a curiosity of its kind ; and could not have been written but by a Frenchman in a delirium of vanity. DEER HUNTING IN SPAIN, Is conducted in the following manner:— a groat number of peasants are ordered to form a circle, embracing a considerable extent of ground in which herds of deer abound, by the people advancing, the circle gradually becomes more narrow, and the deer arc driven into a defile, where his Majesty and attendants are waiting in ambush; and as the terri- fied animals run past, he has the honour of killing or wounding them till he is tired. ** Is this hunting?" said an English Gentleman to another who gave him the account.— He answered parodying the lines of Pope — »It is, alas ! too clear, lis but the daughter of some hundicd deer." O 3 66 rOIlTRMT. " Could you not give a little expression to that countenance ?" said a gentleman to an eminent English painter, who shewed him a portrait that he hud just finished ; "I have made that attempt ftl- leady," replied the painter; " but, what the pic- " ture gained in expression, it lost in likeness; and • " by the time there was a little common sense in the *' countenance, nobody knew for whom it was inten- »* ded. I was obliged, therefore to make an entire " new picture, with the face perfectly like, and •' perfectly meaningless, as you sec it." PHYSIOGNOMY DECEITFVI,, An English gentleman happened once to sit by a, foreigner of his acquaintance at the opera, when a certain nobleman, who at that time was a good deal talked of, entered. He whispered him: " That is Lord ," " Not surely the famous Lord ," said he. " Yes ," said the Englishman, " The very jame." " It will be acknowledged," continued the foi'eigner, " that the respectable figure he makes in the senate, must be entirely owing to instruction; for hi.s countenance completely vacant, indicates a deficiency of natural abilities," LOUIS THE WELL BELOVED. The death of him who at the beginning of his Toign had received that appellation, was heard -iX 67 Paris with satisfaction rather than sorrow. The ceremony, usual in times of public danger to make a procession of the shrine of St. Genevieve^ was performed during the hist illness of Louis XV. He expired notwithstanding. When his death was an- nounced in a certain company, one observed that the procession of the shrine seemed to have lost its effi- cacy. " What happier eflcct could it have produced r" j-aid another; " Is he not dead?" mauat, Is said to love carnage like a vulture, and to delight in human sacrifices like Moloch, God of the Ammonites. No Republican of Greece or Rome, ever shewed more contempt for the ornament of dress. He stands much in need of it. For as nature has not been partial to liiin in point of look he would be excu- sable in endeavouring to conceal her unkindness by any auxiliary of that sort. Marat is a little man of a cadaverous complexion, and a countenance exceedingly expressive of his disposition ; to a painter of massacres, Marat's head would become inestimable. Such heads arc rare in England, yet they are sometimes to be met with at the Old Bailey. The only artifice he uses in favour of his looks, is that of wearing a rou