ar el \ \ Li, 7 a 7) i Wied 7 * z" i ies : Tes ! mh eo i, « | ee : i ar 9 } ’ i g% 4 i . x ' jo | ' i f n neg ies . | ont “aaa gating ee Sif D Gem 2 OUny/ Ene Z From an Orginal painting by- Ser Godtrey Kneller. in the pofrefiron of L ord Buchan THE BEE, OR LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER, CONSISTING OF ORIGINAL PIECES AND SELECTIONS FROM PERFORMANCES ' OF MERIT, FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC : A WORK CALCULATED TO DISSEMINATE USEFUL KNOWLEDGE “ AMONG ALL RANKS OF PEOPLE AT A SMALL EXPENCE, BY JAMES ANDERSON, LLD. f FRS. FAS. Ss. _ Honorary Member of the Society of Arts, Agriculture, &c. at BaTH ; of the Philosophical, and of the Agricultural Societies in Man~ CHESTER ; ofthe Society for promoting Natural History, Lonvon ; of the Literary and Philosophical Society, NEwcastte; of | the academy of arts, scienves, and belles lettres; Dijon; of the Royal Society of Agriculture andRural Economy, St PETERSBURGH ; ° correspondent member of the Royal Society of Agriculture, Paris; and author of several performances, VOLUME fFIPTEENLH EDINBURGH: He PRINTED FOR THE EDITOR M,DCC,XCIII—VOL. V. 3} COMMON PAPER. ee | OS. vitae a PH un Seo. Bx = (PR Ve, WHAT, ow .. Be pc A ak ieee se WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 4° 17% > i n vA . ta | Q Hae e) sl 3 an fl te | te iS) ht tel Pe tg ra lea! O =~) ee) With a portrait. Hewry ErskInE lord Cardrofs was the great grandson of John earl of Mar, lord high treasurer of Scotland, of whom an account has been given in this miscellany *. He was the son of David lord Cardrofs, by ‘Anne Hope, daughter of Sir Thomas Hope of Craighail, lord advocate of Scotland. His father was one of the seven Scottith lords who bravely and honourabiy protested against the deli- *® Vol. vii. p. 1 d VOL. XVII. A ; + ?. > i ‘ - ys 2 Jketch of the life of lord Cardrofs. Sept. 4. very of king Charles the first to the army of the Englith parliament, at Newcastle, in the year 1646; and he educated his son in the same principle of ho- nour and fidelity to the laws and personal engage- ments, without which no character can be respec- table. The subject of this’ fhort memoir was born at Cardrofs in Perthfhire, the family seat, antiently the rural residence of the abbots of Inchme-homoe. ‘The elementary part of his education was conduct- ed at Edinburgh ; and from thence he was sent to study at Leyden under the most eminent profefsors. Afterwards he travelled for some time on the con- tinent, but more witha view to acquire useful know- ledge, than to admire the splendour of courts, or partake of fafhionable amusements. On his coming of age in the year 1671, he re- turned home, and soon after married Katherine Stew- art, daughter of Sir James, and grand daughter of Sir Lewis Stewart, lord justice general of Scotland. The same year his father died, and from the politia cal complexion of the times, he was forced to take a part in the opposition to the arbitrary measures .of the Landerdale administration. On this account the fhare he had of the illegal and cruel opprefsion of the times, are fully set forth in Wodrow and Cruikfhanks, their narratives of those unhappy dis- putes; and are unnecefsary to be repeated in this — place. Itis sufficient to mention that for the bap- tism, of his son (afterwards earl of Buchan,) by a clergymam of the prefbyteriau communion, he was forced to pay a fine of great amount, and for suffers _— a ee 1793. jfketch of the life of lord Cardrofs. 3 ing the famous Mr Hugh Mackail and other preachers to officiate in his chapel at Cardrofs, he was confiscated, and forced to pay another fine of a thousand pounds sterling. His whole estate of Cardrofs was wasted, and his house occupied by a garrison for-eight years toge- ther, during the life time of his father § and now in the year 1679, it was again garrisoned, and him- ‘self committed a close prisoner to the castle of E- dinburgh, until he fhould pay a fine of three thou- sand pounds, immoderately laid beyond his power of present performance, that his person might be secured. In June of this year the king’s forces, on their march to the west, (the day before the duke of Monmouth came to them,) wheeled, and went out of their route, that they might quarter upon lord Cardrofs’s estate of Strathbroke, where they plun- dered and destroyed the corns and cattle of his tenants, and made. as great havock as the time would permit. After this, lord Gardrofs finding it impofsible for _ him.to live with safety or honour in his own coun- try, compounded for his fines, and engaged with those who settled on Charlestown neck in South Carolina, where he establifhed a plantation. From ‘thence a few years afterwards he and his people were driven by the Spaniards, many of the colonists being killed, and almost all their effects destroyed. Forced to return again to Europe, he took up his abode at the Hague,gwith his persecuted coun- 4 Jretch of the lifeiof lord Cardrofs. Sept. gy trymen, and obtained a command in the army of the states general of Hoiland ; from whence he came in the year 1688 with William prince of Orange, his son David Erskine attending him and comman- ding a company of foot. — . Lord Cardrofs raised a regiment of cavalry for the service: of the state, soon after his arrival in England, to the command of which he was appointed; and he acquitted himseif bravely and honourably under the command of general Mackay in Scotland, to perfect the good work of establifhing the throne of king William on the basis of rational law and parliamentary election. But lord Cardrofs’s health, which had been im- paired by his close imprisonment, and. the fatigues of his American plantation, sunk under the effects. of his military duties in Scotland, and he died at E- dinburgh in the year 1693, having only completed his forty-third year. The chief intent ‘of this’ slight notice concerning lord Cardrofs, is to suggest the reflection that ought to arise from the comparison of times that appear troublesome and hazardous, with those that have been truly dangerous and afflicting in former ages ; and to set forth the example of a virtuous man, who rather than disturb the tranquility of his country,’ and endanger that of his’ relations and friends, chose the hard alternative of seeking an asylum, on the other side of the Atlantic. There are times when it is impofsible for a wise man to operate with succefs in reclaiming his coun- trymen from inveterate prejudices ; and in such times 1793- onihe value and uses of the iarchtree; § for a man ofa philosophical turn of mind, and of strict and delicate virtue, the simile of Plato ought to be well considered. “¢ If one, says he, fhall observe a great company run out into the rain every day, and delight to be wet in it, and if he judges that it will be to little purpose for him to go and persuade them to come into their houses and avoid the rain, so that all that can be expected from his going to speak to them, will be that he fhall be wet with them ; woujd it not be much better for him to keep within doors, and preserve himself, since he cannot correct the folly 2” of others ? On THE VALUE AND UsEs oF THE LarcH TREE. Tr a traveller fhould come from a sttange country, _ and report that he nad there found a tree whose wood was nearly incorruptible; who fhould say, that un- der ground it would remain fer centuries firm, and at length acquire almost a metallic hatdnefs; that above ground, though exposed to the weather, it could scarcely be said ever to rot:-that if cut into plank after being thoroughly dried, it was neither apt to fhrink nor warp in any way: that no kind of worm was known to make any imprefsion on it for ages, if made into furniture; and that even the sea worm in tropical regions, so destructive to most other kinds of wood, did not affect it: that it resist- ed fire, so as scarcely ever to be put into a flame; and only consumed slowly in circumstances that 6 © on the value and uses of the larch tree. Sept. 4. were very favourable for combustion: that though light and soft, it was strong and elastic: that it was a tall and stately tree, of remarkably quick growth and elegant appearance : that it throve on ‘agreat diversity of soils, and ina variety of exposures, even in very cold ‘climates: that it bore seeds early, which germinated freely, and was easily propagated: that the verdure of its leaves was very vivid and pleasing : that its blofsoms were of a fine purple co+” lour in great adundance early in the spring, so as to make it one of the most beautiful ornamental trees that could any where be found; would not every one who fhould read this description pronounce it to be greatly exaggerated, and be satisfied that no one kind of tree could pofsefs such a great number of valuable pro- perties? Yet such we now know with certainty the *larix to be ; and that from facts establithed by unde- niable evidence, every one who examines this subject wich attention, must admit the whole without hesi- tation. That atree pofsefsing these valuable qua- lities, ought to be cultivated with care, ao one will deny ; but in a country where it has not come into general use, and where its qualities are of course not experimentally known, it may be of use, not only to specify a few of the facts’ which prove that it really does pofsefs the qualities above ascribed to t; but also to point out some of the many uses to which it may be applied; in order that by directing the attention of individuals to a subject of so much importance, care may, be taken to disperse it as ear+ ly as pofsible into all those parts of the ‘country where it would tend most effectually to promote \ 1793- on the value and uses of the larch tree, 4 the improvement of arts, manufactures, or agricul- ture in any way. The incorruptibility of this wood has been several times hinted in this miscellany and other perfor= mances ; but as the facts which prove this cannot be too generally known, there will be little harm in recapitulating some of these, and adding some others lefs generally known. Vitruvius mentions this wood as the best that had ever been known for rafters, and other parts of the wood work in buildings that required great strength; and attributes the perifhable nature of mo. dern buildings in his time, in a great measure to the want of it in the neighbourhood of Rome. The houses of Venice are well known to be built upon piles of larch wood, which have remained sound for many hundred years, and are now found to be so hard as to resist an edged tool almost like a petrifaction. Many of the pictures. of Raphael Urban are painted upon boards of larch wood, which are still perfectly entire. It is about three hundred years since he died. Had the wood either fhrunk or warped during that time, it is evident the paint- ings must have heen destroyed ; as must also hays, been the case had it been eaten by worms, These are a few facts that have been long known in Europe. The following have been more lately obser- ved, andare lefs generally known. ‘ [have in my gar- den, says M. le president de la Tour D’ArcuEs, in the year 1787, some rails, part of which are oak, and part of them larch wood. Therails were made in the year 1743, and only once painted. The oak has yielded Dy alae es ie 8 onthe value and uses of the larch tree. Sept. 4. to time, but the larch is still sound. They employ this wood at present in Provence, for making cafks. The chesnut of the Cevennes had supplied the place of the oak, and the larch now succefsfully supplies that of the chesnut. The finenefs of the grain re- tains perfectly the spirit of the liquor, and does not alter its quality. It has been employed for that use for time immemorial in the higher Dauphiné, from Sisteron even to Briancot. I have in my castle of | Tour d’Aigues, beams of twenty inches square, which are sound, though upwards of two hundred years old ; but trees of this size are now only to be found in places whence they cannot be transported. There are in some parts of Dauphiné, and in the fo- rest of Baye in Provence, larch trees which two men could not grasp, and more than twelve toises, (about seventy-five feet) in height.” Mem. R. Soc. Agri. Paris, 1787. Tt is not in France alone that this peculiarity has bgen observed. Dr Pallas, in the extensive travels he made throughout the Rufsian dominions, took no- tice of a kind of tumuli which were frequent in Kamtchatka, which were said to be the burying places of their ancestors, of immemorial antiquity. He caused some of them to be opened, to observe their contents, and found in the centre of each, the remains of one or more human bodies, whith had been deposited under something that had the appedr- ance of a roof, consisting of beams of larch wood, placed so as to join together at top, and spread wide below. These had geen afterwards covered to 4 great height with a large mound of earth, which 249 3. onthe value and uses of the larch tree. 9 had remained in that position till all tradition of their first erection had been lost. He found the larch wood there entire and uncorrupted, though every thing else of vegetable or animal origin was utterly decayed. After this example it may by some be deemed unnecefsary to mention others. But in a case of so much importance it is impofsible to have proofs too full; especially if they are of such a nature as can easily can be verified by private individuals, who can have no opportunity of examining the foundati- on of the houses of Venice, or exploring the tombs of Kamtchatka. Such are those that follow : In the garden of Mr Dempster, so long dis- tinguifhed for his respectable conduct in the Britifh parliament, a spire of young larix wood, not thicker at the root end than a man’s wrist, was found to have remained fixed in the ground as a hop pole summer and winter for five, six, or seven years, (the pre- cise number could not be ascertained,) without the smallest symptom of rotting being discoverable in it. Any other kind of wood I have seen, similarly circumstanced, would have been more decayed in six months than it was. See Beevol. p. . Alternate stakes of larch and oak wood having been tried to support the nets of a decoy in Lin- colnfhire, two sets of the oak had been worn out, as my informent afsured me, before any marks of decay appeared on the larch stakes: the experiment is still going forward. Ib. vol. p. Two gates were erected with wooden gate posts, one of the posts of each gate being made of the best VOL, xvii. B t 10 on the value and uses of the larch tree. Sept. hs foreign fir log, and the other of larch wood. One set of the fir posts is worn out, and another prt into their place at each gate; but the larch conti- nues still firm. This experiment also is still in its progrefs.. Ib, vol. : pages A trough for feeding hogs made of deal of larch wood had been placed beneath a large tree in the fields, where it had stood soaked in water and dirt for five or six years: on being scraped clean it was found to be perfectly sound ; and having been converted into another use, stood in a stable for se- -veral years longer without any mark of decay ; when the stable being taken down, the experiment was discontinued. Ib. vol. p. . “Tt resists, says Mr Ritchie, the Britifh chargé des affairs at Venice, speaking of larch wood, the in- temperature of the air, more than any other wood known in this country, and therefore it is much used for making outer gates, pales &#c. which are con- stantly exposed to the open air. Itis no lefs du- rable within doors ; and in some of the old palaces here, there are beams of larix as sound as when first placed there. In a word, wherever strength and durability are required, this is reckoned here the most choice and valuable wood ; and it may be appli- ad to a great number of uses*.” It would be unnecefsary to enumerate more proofs of the incorruptible nature and singularly valuable qualities of this wood, and therefore the remaining part of this efsay fhall be appropriated to an enu- * Memoirs of thé society of arts, London, vol. xi. £79 3+ on the value and uses of the larch tree. 1% meration of the principal uses to which some of it has either been already applied, or for which it may be employed in arts and domestic economy. = —_— Garden walls, rails, and other fences. We can form an idea of a thousand uses to which this wood could be applied with economy in rural af- fairs, could it be obtained in abundance. Garden walls are reared in this country at a great expence ; and even when reared, are liable to many accidents : but were larch wood tobe had in abundance, a wall capable of enduring for a great length of time might be e- rected, by placing some upright posts of a proper size at due distances, and nailing upon these boards of larch wood, till it fhould attain the height required. These walls, for fruit trees, would be infinitely pre- sferable to any other sort yet employed, as the nails could always be driven precisely in the place wanted ; and nails ofa much smaller size than are at present employed, indeed tacks of no large size would hold perfectly firm, so as to give room for a prodigious saving in the article of nails ;—-and if these tacks were made of cast iron, which they might eas: ily be, the saving here would be immense. It_is hardly necefsary to take notice that espa liers of this wood would be proportionally benefi- cial. . With regard to other fences, it is sufficiently ob- vious that all kinds of railing would be, of this wood, so much more durable than of any other kind known in this country, as to render fences of that sort eligible on many occasions where they cannot be had at present, Were we indeed to enter ¥2 on the value and uses of the larch tree. Sept. 4. on a computation of the national saving that would accrue from the use of dead fences, in place of living, by obtaining the ground that is lost en embankments: by the additional produce that would be obtained even on the flat fields near to a dead fence, and that which can be got fromthe ground exhausted by the roots of bufhes and hedge plants; and fhould we add to these, the being freed from the ravages of sparrows, wherever hedges are employed as fences for corn fields ; and the benefit the farmer would derive from being freed of the trouble of annually rooting out noxious weeds, the seeds of which are blown from plants that spring up in his hedges, which cannot be there extirpated ; the amount of it would be so great as to exceed any calculation that a man would at the present time venture to put down in figures. There can however be no doubt but several millions of people might be well supported upon the ground that in this island at present is lost and deteriorated by these means *. * To give some slight idea of the lofs that is thus sustained in Bri« tain, I beg leave to refer to the recollection of every person who has travelled in England, if he has not remarked that in a great many places, particularly in the richest counties the fences in general consist of a great mound of earth, frequently ten or twelve feet in breadth ‘at the base, stuck full of thorns, briars, brambles, ha- zle, and a variety of other brufh wood, beyond which is usually a ditch of about six feet more. Nor can the plough approach wi- thin lefs than three feet of all this waste ground on either side, which is besides rendered almost barren and uselefs by the roots of the trees spreading in it. This would make a border of twenty-two feet a- round every field thus:inclosed, that may be said to be totally annihi- lated for the purposes of hufbandry. From a field of five acres so inclo. sed, if you suppose two sides of it bounded by a road, there wonld:be i 993° on the value and uses of the larch tree. 13 A kind of dead fences have lately been introduced into practice in those parts of Scotland, where ex-- tensive plantations of Scots fir have been made; a lofs of three quarters of an acre nearly, or about one seventh part of the whole. Ifit were divided into gardens of a quarter of an acre each, the lofs would more than one half of the whole. But say, that instead of one seventh, which may be nearly the pro- portion wasted in the richest and best inclosed grounds in the king- dom, the real waste upon the whole of Britain thus incurred fhould rot exceed one twentieth part: as it is computed that there are a- bove fifty millions of acres in Britain, this would bring the waste ari- sing from this source to two millions five hundred thousand acres 5 and as the produce ef an acre of land well cultivated will maintain two persons for one year, the land thus wastetl:might sustain no few- er than five millions of persons!!! Phe Yate © ’ Nor is this the whole of the lofs acdHing to the nation from living hedges; the destruction that is dont hy ‘Sparrows upon corn fields surrounded by live hedges isimmense, and baffés all calculation. The labour too that is employed annually in making and repairing hedges, and the waste that arises from beasts breaking through such imperfect fences, if fairly estimated, would amount to a vast sum ; all of which may be accounted a real waste, and a dead draught from the wealth and industry of the nation. These defalcations are “not adverted to, because the abuses that give rise to them are of old standing,. and have crept into use imperceptibly. But there can be no doubt, that in small fields of rich land thus inclosed, the average produce that might be obtained from them, were the live fences en- tirely removed, and others of the sort recommended in the text sub- stituted in their stead, might be augmented at least one fouith more than it is at present ; and consequently the rent that could be paid for these fields would be augmented ina yet higher ratio. It behoves men of sense to advert to a circumstance of such immense impor, tance. Should the beauty of live fences be deemed an object of so much consequence by some, as to make them willing to forego some advan- tages for the pleasure of looking at them, that ‘beauty may by the help of our fences be obtained without lofs, by substituting fruit trees © er berry bufbes in lieu of the barren brufh now employed. Should i f PI) Vines jae" Ty ey rg onthe uses and value of the larch tree. Sept. 44 and where of course that kind of wood can be got at a small expence. The thinnings of these planta- tions which are cut out when the trees are the thick- nefs of a man’s leg and under, are cut into lengths of four or five feet, according to the height of the in- tended fence ; these are pointed at one end, and sawed streight acrofs at the other; they are then placed in a row at small distances from each other, and driven into the earth with a wooden mal- let, leaving their tops all of one height. Upon the top of these is fixed a lath of wood sawed, the fence be made of laxch supports, joined together by sawed boards about four inches broad, running horizontally, at the distance of six or eight inches from each other, the branches of a jargonelle pear or | an apple of any valuable.kind, might be trained, horizontally along these bars as if upon a wall; and if one tree was planted on one side the fence opposite to the interval between.two trees on the other side of it, the whole might thus be filled on both sides. This could easi- ly be done by means of lists and nails or tacks driven into the wood; but even these two articles of expence might be saved, if a thin piece of lath were nailed along the upper part of each bar, leaving a small o- pening of about a quarter of an inch between the lath and the bar. Thus might the branches be fastened to this lath by means of withy er willow twigs, and no nails whatever used. Should currants or other berry bearing bufhes be preferred, they might be fastened by a similar contrivance, and the tops be allowed to advance so far above the wood as to give it the appearance of a live hedge. In rich grounds abundant orchards might thus be obtained, and the waste occasioned by their roots be plentifully repaidby the fruit. The only other use that can be pleaded “for live hedges is for af- fording fire wood. But this could in all cases be much more econo~ mically obtained, where necefsary, by appropriating a patch of ground of a proper size for the farm entirely to that purpose, as has been very properly recommended by lord Kames, as a necefsary appendage ta every farm. ; See gentleman farmer. ly 1993- on the value and uses of the larch tree. 45 which joins the whole together. Thus it has a neat appearance, and is upen the whole a fence which has every thing that could be desired, were it suffici- ently durable. Were it made of larix, that quali- ty would be obtained, so that it would be quite complete. Those who live in countries-that are ‘already in- closed, are, upon the present plan of fences, subject- ed to no other lofses or inconveniences than those above enumerated: but where inclosures are not yet made, a man’s life-time must be nearly elapsed before live hedges can be made a sufficient fence ; so that it is impofsible to estimate the lofs, and trouble, and embarrafsment to which he is thus subjected *, * To plant hedges in a country where hedges already abound, is not an enterprise efimmense difficulty, because dead brufh in such 2 situation can always be obtained to make a temporary fence for its protection ; and because the hedge, on account of the fhelter it there obtains will advance with greater rapidity. The domestic animals too in such a country, not being occustomed to range so much at large as in open countries, the farmeris not subjected to so much trouble in guar- ding them against damage asin the other situation: but amanwho at- tempts first to rear hedges in an open country, where no trees or fhelter abound exposes himself to an innumerable train of vexatious anxie- ties; for which he can scarcely ever receive an adequate compensa- tion. Hence we see in every such part of the country many attempts of this sort that have proved abortive, where, after great sums of money had been uselefsly expended, the fields are left ina mangled and often deteriorated state, from the abortive operations that have been made uponthem. Men of sense, by whom alone eve- ry important improvement in a country must ultimately be carried forward, seeing these distrefsing evils before their eyes, are deterred from engaging in such ruinous enterprises, the country is left unenclo- sed; and thousands of conveniences must be foregoed, because of want of fences. By the mode here proposed, this great evil might be universally 26 letter from Senex. _ Sept. or to conceive an idea of the rapidity with TALS improvements would be carried forward on many oc- casions, were this conveniency put within his reach. One improvement, it is well known, accelerates ano- ther ; so that by stopping one, like poisoning a seed inembrio, you may stop many thousands of others for ages, that might have been going forward in an endlefs succefsion of accumulating progrefsion. Tt will be seen in the sequel, that larch wood may be reared in such abundance, and in such a fhort space o' time for this purpose in every pofsible si- tuatio:., that were men to set themselves seriously to rear it, there is no part of Britain that might not in ten or twelve years at farthest pofsefs the advantages that would be thus derived from it, along with many others that fhall be specified im some future number of this work. To be continued: a4 $ LETTER FROM SENEX. Sir, Yo the Editor of the Bee. Arter a long absence, J return again to my native land. The distrefs which opprefsed me when last I wroté to you, seemed ready to put a period to that ex- dstence which though productive of little joy we all removed in a few years; and a man, like Arielin the tempest, when- ever he found he had immediate occasion for an enclosure, could ob- tain it almost “* with a with.” ; ! £793. | letter from Senex, 17 are formed by an instinctive bias to wilh to preserve. I looked forward with a kind of solemn serenity to the near approach of that awful scene which await- eth all mankind. My physician, alarmed tor a life which his parriality had rendered dear to him, pufh- ed me away; make haste said he, before the ap- proach of winter fly to some warmer region, where the chilling blasts of December may not overpower your weakly frame. I hesitated; for whither to’ go I knew not—.No daughter was left to cheer the eve- ning of life, with those tender cares which it so much becomes her to minister to a father. To go .in the state of health I then experienced to a distant region among strangers, to me appeared a tafk more frightfulto encounter than death itself. Suffer methen, O my friend, I said, at least to diein peace. The ut- most that could be expected from all your anxious care and {kill would be only to prolong for a few moments more that brittle thread, which soon at all events must break. What avails it whether this fhall take place to day or tomorrow, or some months, or even years hence? All that life is worth the withing fon is gone, and were it not for the ideal pleasure of hol- ding converse at times with those who have gone before, and thus exalting the mind to a degree of happy enthusiasm, | fhould not have spirits to con- _ verse even with you; for all would then be a set- tled gloom, without one spark of day. Suffer me then to close my days in peace. and to indulge the sweet idea that when the scene is finally closed, my body fhall be deposited by you in the same grave with those I loved. VOL, xvii. y ie 98 Tetter from Sonex. . Sept. My friend was silent to these expostulaiious. The tear rolled’in his eye, but he answered me not 3. a few cays afterwards he returned with a chearful countenance. I have just received a letter (he said,) that you will be glad to see. It is from Ju- lia, (for so I fhall call her at present, ) and put it in- my hand. Julia was the intimate companion of my dear, dear, girl, who has now been long at her rest ; fhe was the greatest favourite beyond my own fami- by Lever had on earth Her absence, which the situ- ation of her family rendered necefsary, added not a little to the grief that overwhelmed me. She after- wards married a man of great worth in the Bahama islands. Our intercourse was thus in some measure suspended ; but fhe never forgot the friend of her youth, nor her aged father. She had heard how much. my health had beenimpaired. She had been afraid to write to myself; but fhe wrote to my friend, with the most engaging solicitude inquiring about the father of her friend. She had heard of the severe effects of the former winter: fhe dreaded those of | that which was to come. She praised the serenity and mildnefs of the climate in which fhe breathed. She thought if I could venture to come thither, it would be productive of the happiest effects. She dwelt upon this theme with a most engaging pro- lixity. She concluded by entreating my friend to prefs me, if still in life, and capable in his opinion of undertaking the voyage, to come there, where the winter.blasts were never experienced; and where the would take a particular pleasur. in performing those little afsiduities which the departure of her friend,... £793. tetier from Senex. t so cruelly deprived me of it would be to her, fhe said, a source of peculiar felicity ; as fhe would feel that in performing these pious offices, fhe would ob- tain the warmest approbation of that blefsed spirit, who could not fail to look down with particular complacency upon her, while thus employed. ‘‘ This thought is tome thesaid, highly consolatory. Deprive me not then, ihe kindly said, of the means of obtaining perhaps the most unmixed felicity that this earth can afford; for at the same time that | thafl thus be suifered to indulge the idea of gaining the approbati- on of the spirit of my departed triend, I {hall be sure of conciliating, in the most engaging manner, the tenderest affection ef my beloved hufband, whose soul delights in acts of kindnefs, and who doats up- on his Julia, merely because he is convinced that fhe takes pleasure in acis of tendernefs and piety.” There is a charm in female softnefs, which | think no human heart is capable of resisting. 1 felt its full force on the present occasion. My friend pref- sed me to obey this endearing call. ] wens My voy- age to London, for | could not undergo the fatigue of a journey by land, was pleasing. I had to wait enly a few days inthe metropolis before a vefsel sailed for zew Providence, in which I took my pafsage. I felt my health recover from day today. Before I landed my strength was already in some measure re- turned. I found my Julia, as [ had ever done, miidly placid, and innoceutly chearful. While the presented me with exultation to her hufband, the tear of re- collection started trom her cye. It was momentary. The good man, tenderly embraced me, He saw my 2° letter from Senex. Sept. h, heart was big with strong emotions, and hastened to present his son, a pleasing child of two years old, whose little prattle in a fhorttime called off our at- tention from thoughts that ought not perhaps to be too much indulged. In this delightful family, I have experienced a degree of felicizy that | believed had for ever been banithed from me; and having re- covered unwonted strength, | have now come back to settle some little affairs that the hurry of my de- parture, and. the uncertainty about my future des- tination prevented me from doing before I went. If it fhall please Heaven to grant health, I intend, to return thither, and bid an eternal adieu to this part of the world, where now I have scarcely the ap- pearance of a tie to bind me to it; for my friend the good doctor, who was so anxious about my fate, has himself paid the debt of nature before me. He was Strong and healthy : but all are subject to the ‘power of the grim tyrant; and of every man that breathes it may be truly said, that ‘* the place which now knows him will soon remember him no more.”! In my pleasing retreat, it was a great consolation to me that I had the satisfaction of reading your miscellany. Many copies of it circulate in that island, and I found one of them appropriated by my friend, He is much pleased with it, and means from time to time to contribute his mite, as he says, to the ge- neral store. Julia, though naturally chearful, has yet a cast of seriousnefs; aud the delights, as you will perceive by some exprefsiois above, in those kind of religious exercises, that carry the mind forward from this transitory world, into:the regions of spi- ' | , “793. - letter from Senest. an rits, where we hope to.meet with pleasures unmix- ed with those dregs of humanity which deaden them in this world. A nong a French collection of trans- lations from the German, many of which fhe used to read with pleasure, there was one piece in parti- cular, intitled des Solitudes, by the baron Croneck, which was so pertectly congenial to her turn of mind, that fhe used to read it with particular marks of delight. Indeed there is so much in it of that ten- dernef: which a delicate mind, highly susceptible of generous emotions, must often experience ; and so little of the dreary gloom of fanatical despair, that I conceive there will be found much of nature init, by all those who have formed in this world, any very pleasing connections that have been broken in the course of the ordinary events of life, that will make it very generally interesting. The hufband of Julia, observing the warm partiality of his wife for this piece, and fond of it at the same time himself, thought he would give her an agreeable. surprise by translating it for your miscellany, with- out letting her know of it. He therefore did this by stealth ; and gave me the translation just before I came away to communicate to you. I now discharge the trust reposed on me, by transmitting it to you, along with this letter ; and hope you will'find it cons venient to insert it early in your Bee. J| have some remarks to make on your miscellany, but at present fhall only say, that 1 am happy to find you adhere so strictly to your declared purpose of chastenefs, both as to morals and politics ; though on this last head, you have perhaps allowed yourself to be a 22 on borax. Sept. hy little drawn aside at times; but these I see are on- ly temporary wanderings, and of, trivial conse- quence. Continue to have your eye steadily fixed on promoting the general interests of humanity ; and firmly determine to follow truth through good re- port, and bad report, as Iam glad to see you have hitherte dove, and you have nothing to fear. The fourteenth volume had reached Bermuda before I ‘Jeft it, but I had seen only the thirteenth, for I was told just as 1 was stepping into the vefsel, that Dir Wells had that very morning received the fonrceenth gt ee Toiuine. Uitering my vest acknowieogement|t to your corresponae 1£ fo ois oO liging re= membrance of me, £ remain Nii esteem your sins ae . 3 eere ro London, dugust} SENEx*, BA 2O2. 5 Aw ~ On BORAX. For the Bee. The following letter from Patna was transmitted in apacket from Dr Anderson oi Wadras, dated the 28 February last. It contains a very dist nc: account of the formation of Borax; and gives a view of the natural state of some of the internal provinces in India, that will prove interesting to European readers. One of the most strik- img differences between Asia and Europe seems to be, that the for- mer has a much greater tendency .o produce natural saline concre- tions of various sorts than the iatter. Ifthe fact be admitted, it would prove an interesting disquisitiea to disccver the circumstan- ces that tend to produce this effect. * The translatiop above named is thankfully received, ‘and wiil be inserted with the earliest opportunity: 3793. on borax. 23 a goldsmith’s fhopman trying experiments with stamping with fhoe black, on wet paper iN some of his master’s puncheons. To CoRRESPONDENTS. ‘THE communication by an observer is received and fhall be attended to. ' Philomanthes wifhes to see some uciehronneiol questions inserted in the Bee. It is with much concern the Editor observes that the stu- dy of mathematics is so much on thedecline in this country at present, as to makeit probable thatcomplying with thisrequest would prove disa- greeable to a greatmajority ofhis readers. He knows’ nothing that indi- cates so much an approaching decline of useful knowledge in Britain as this does, and he would be gtad to see a neat disquisition by an able hand tending to explain the cause of this alarming neglect of the funda~ mental principles of all true knowledge in mechanics. May it not in part be ascribed to quackery in the mode of teaching it? *4* The engraver not having been able to get the plate ready that Joould have accompanied this number itis delayed till the next, rq= ther than to give it uow in an imperfect staie. 146 THE BEE, OR LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGNCGER, FOR WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER II. 1793. IVAN CZ ROWITZ, OR THE ROSE WITHOUT PRICKLES, THAT STINGS NOT, A TALE. Written sy wer Impertan Majesty. Translated from the Rufsiau language, for the Bee. The following little tale was given to the Editor by a gentleman of literary eminence in this place, who afsured him he might depend upon its being the performance of the august personage to whom it is ascribed, which he had accefs to know from particular circum.. $tances. The translation was made by the favour of a friend who is well acquainted with the language in which it is written. It is done with an elegant simplicity which the Editor considers as per- haps the rarest, and the most valuable literary acquirement. In the original the name of Hior, is a combination of letters so unusual in Englith that it wasthought advisable to change it into the more familiar name Jvan; Tsar a title of royalty, Zsaritsa the technical word denoting the Tsar's wife, and Tsarevitch that of their eldest son, aswell as a female exercising royalty, to adapt them to the Englith orthogrophy, are made Czar, Czarina and Cxarowits. Berore the times of Kij Knoese of Kieff, a Czar li, ved in Rufsia, a goo! man who loved truti, and VOL, xvii. E t "42. ~~ the rose without prickles, a tale. Sept. 14 wifhed well to every body. He often traveiled through his dominions, that he might know how the people lived ; and every where informed himself if they acted fairly. The Czar had a Czarina. The Czar and the Czarina lived harmoniously. The Czarina travelled with the Czar, and did not like to be absent from him. The Czar and Czarina arrived at a certain town built on a high hili in the middle of a wood, where a son was born to the Czar, and they gave him the name Ivan. But in the midst of this joy, and of a three days festivity, the Czar received the disa- greeable intelligence, that his neighbours do not live quietly,—make inroads into his territories, and do many injuries to the inhabitants of the borders. ‘The Czar took the armies that were encamped in the _neighbourhood, and went with his troops to protect the borders. The Czarina went with the Czar; the Czarowitz remained in the same town and house in which he was born. The Czar appointed to him seven prudent matrons *, well experienced in the education of children. The Czar ordered the tow. to be for- tified with a stone wall, having towers at the. cor- ners ; but they placed no cannon on the towers, be- cause in those days they had no cannon. The house in which the Czarowitz remained, was built of Si- berian marble and porphyry, and was very neat and conveniently laid out. Behind the palace were * The original word is Nyanya. These Nyanyas are generally old women appointed to look after children, The wet nurse in Ruf is Sormilitsa, from the werd Kormit, which signifies to feed. 1793- - ~—«the rose without prickles, a tale. 43 \ planted gardens with fruit trees, near which fith. _ ponds beautified the situation ; summer houses made in the taste of various nations, from which the view extended to the neighbouring fields and plains, ad-_ ded agreeablenefs to the dweiling. As the Czarowitz grew up, his female guardians began to remark that he was no lefs prudent and sprightly, than handsome. The fame of the beauty, wisdom, and fine accomplithments of the Czaro- Witz was spread abroad on all sides. A certain Han of the Kirguise Tartars, wandering in the desert with his Kibitkas,* heard of this, avd was anxious to see so extraordinary an infant ; and having seen him, he formed a wih to carry him away into the desert. He began by endeavouring to persuade the guardians to travel with the Czarowitz and him into the desert. The matrons told him with all pohtenefs, that it was impofsible to do this without the Czar’s permifsi- on: that they had not the honour of knowing my lord Han, and that they never pay any visits with the Czarowitz to strangers. - The Haa has not con- tented with this polite answer, and stuck to them closer than formerly, justiike a hungry person to a piece of paste; and insisted that the nurses fhould go with the child into the desert. Having at last re- * Kibitka is a sort of tent made ot matts which is used by the wandering Kirguise and other Tartar nations. It also means a kind of covered waggon used for travelling in Kufsia, Probably this last was the original meaning of the word among the Tartars, forthese waggons were originally their habitations. Whenthey afterwards adopted tents for that purpose, they probably gaye these their dwellings stil! the same name as formerly. Ledit. 44 the rose without prickles, a tale. Sept. tt. céived a flat denial, he was convinced he could not succeed in his intention by intreaties, and sent them a present. They returned him thanks,—sent his present back, and ordered to tell him that they were in want of nothing. The Han, obstinate and fixedin his resolution, consi- dered what was to be done? It came into his head to drefs himself in tattered clothes ; and he sat down at the gate of the garden, as if he were asick old man ; and he begged alms of the pafsengers. The Czaro- witz happened that day to take a walk in the gar- den; and observing that a certain old man sat at the gate, sent to afk who the old man was? They re- turned with answer that he was a sick beggar. Ivan, like a boy pofsefsed of much curiosity, alked leave to look at the sick beggar. The matrons to pacify Ivan, told him that there was nothing to be seen; and that he might send the beggar alms. Ivan wilhed to give the money himsclf, and ran off. The attendants ran after him; but the faster they ran, the faster the child set out, and got witbout the gate. Having run up to the feigned beggar, his foot catched a stone, and he fell upon his face. The beggar sprung up,—took the child under his arm, and set a running down the hill. A gilded rospoofki, (a kind of cart with four wheels,) trimmed with vel- vet, stood there:—he got on the rospoofki, and galloped away with the Czarwitz into the desert. When the guardians had run up to the gate, they found neither beggar nor child; nor did they s-e any traces of them. Indeed there was no road at the place where the Han went down the hill. Sitting on the ros- poofki, he held the Czarowitz before him with one 14903. thé rose without prickles, a tale. 4g hand, like a chicken by the wing, and with the o-. ther he waved his cap round his head, and cried three times hura! On hearing this voice, the guar- dians ran to the slope of the hill; but it was too late: they could not overtake them. The Han carried Ivan in safety to his camp, and went into his kibitka, where the grandees met the Han. The Han appointed.to [van his best Starfhi- na*. This Scarfhina took him in his arms, and car- ried him into a richly ornamented kibitka, covered with Chinese stuffs and Persian carpets. He set the child on a cufhion of cloth of gold, and tried to pa- cify him: but Ivan cried and repented he had run away from his guardians. He was continually afk- ing whither they were carrying him ? for what reason? to what purpose? and where he was? The S:arfhina and the Kirguise that were with him, told him many stories. One said that it was so ordained by the course of the stars ; another that it was better living there than at home. They told him all but the truth. Sceing that nothing could pacify him, they tried to frighten him with nonsense ; they told him they would turn him into a bat ora hawk, thatthey would give lim to the wolf or frog to be eaten. The Czarwitz was not fearful, and amidst his tears laugh. ed at such nonsense. The Starthina seeing that the elild had left off crying, ordered the table to be co- = vered. They covered the table and served the sup- per. The Czarowicz eat a little: they then present- "ed preserves and such fruit as they had. After supper they undrefsed him and put him to sleep. * Starfhina an elder-man, from Starij old. 46 the rose without prickles, a tale. Sept. 124. Next morning before day break, the Han gathered his grandees, and spoke to them as follows: *“ Let ** it be known unto you, that I yesterday carried “© off the Czarowitz Ivan, a child of uncommon * beauty and prudence. I with to know perfectly ** whether all is true that is said of him; and I am ‘* determined to employ every means of trying his ** qualifications.” The grandees having heard the the Han’s words bowed themselves to the girdle. The flatterers among them praised the Han’s con- duct, when he had carried off a child, nay the child of a neighbouring Czar: the mean spirited approved, saying, ** right lord Han, our hope, whatever you “« do must be right*.” A few of them who really loved the Han, fhook their’ heads, and when the Han afked them why they held their tongues, they told him frankly,:‘* You have done wrong in carrying ** off the son of a neighbouring Czar, and you can ** not escape misfortune, unle{s you compensate for ** this step.” The Han answered, ‘ Just so; you * are always discontented,’ and pafsed by them. He ordered the Czarowitz to be brought to him as soon as he fhould awake. he child seeing that they wifhed to carry him, said, ** Do not trouble your- selves, Ican walk. I will go myself.” Having come into the Han’s kibitka, he bowed to them all, first to the Han, and then to the rest on the right and left. He then placed himself before the Han with such * As I find I am unable to give a translation sufficiently exprefsive , wfthe sense of the original here, I fhall set it down with a literal translation. Tak na desha gofudar Han, kak inako bit kak tebe na serdtse prijdet; that is; So hope lord Han, how otherwise to be hora te you on the heart will come. is 1793- account of the Tauric ecp. 47 a respectful, polite, and prudent mein, that he filled all the Kirguise and the Han. himself with wonder. The Han however recollecting himself, spoke as fol- lows ; ‘* Czarowitz Ivan! they say of you that you “ are a wise child, pray seek me a flower,—a rose «¢ without prikles that stings not. Your tutor will ‘« fhow you a wide field: I give you a term of three “ days.”? The child bowing again to the Han said, ‘I hear,’ and went out of the kibitka to his own home. To be concluded in our next. Own THE DIFFERENT VARIETIES OF SHEEP IN A WILD AND DO- MESTIC STATE, REARED IN THE Russian Empire, AND BY THE PASTORAL NATIONS FROM THE FRONTIERS OF E.vROPE TO THOSE oF CurNa. Continued, from vol. xvi. p. 312. The fifth veriety. Ovis TAURICA. "Tuer is still a breed of fheep in the Crimea, (lately brought back to its ancient appellation of Tauride by her imperial majesty,) which even the wide range of Dr Pallas’s travels did not permit him to examine, but which he hopes to describe on his journey home from the new excursion he is going upon for the advancement of natural history in general, and the completion of his Flora Rofsica in particular; a splendid work executed by the learned academici- an, at the sole expence of her imperial majesty, who presents it tothe learned in Europe, as a mark of her attention to science, and its profefsors, 48 account of the Tauric /beep. Sept. 104 The doctor thinks it must be a variety of the ste- atopyga, or Boucharian {heep; but what we know for certain, and what makes it highly interesting is, that a valuable trade is carried on with its fkin; as it furnifhes the beautiful and high priced blue furs, in such great estimation as a winter drefs for the nobility of Rufsia, Poland, and other northern coun- tries. It is impofsible to pafs over the db/ue furs of the north, without calling to mind a race of fheep mentioned by Boethius and Sibbald, as inha- biting the island of Rona, and bearing a biue fleece, similar to what is so much prized here. It might be worth the curiosity, if not the inte- rests of your society, to inquire if any traces of the breed remain, on that or any other island of Scot- land*. * The ingenious writer is here led into a dilemma, from the equi- vocal meaning of the word Sue, in the Scottifh dialect of the Englith language, when applied to animals of this sort. Nothing is more com- mon than to hear country men talk of d/we horses ; but a horse li- terally of a blue colour, in the strict meaning of the word, was never I believe seen in this country: at least I know that I have seen thou- sands of blue horSes, as they are called; and these are all literally gray ; consisting of mixed hairs black and white: when it has a yeddifh glance, it is called iron gray.. The blue fheep of Scotland are precisely of the same sort. The fleece always consists of a mixture ef white and black hairs having a bluifh glance; as I have seen thou- sands of times. On the other hand, the blue fursof Taurica here mentioned, or at least some furs which I have seen, are of a bright blue colour strictly so called, exactly of the same cast with the blue cloths of Europe that have been dyed with indigo; and Iam convinced these have alt been so dyed,—and that there isno fheep to be found any where that are naturally of that colour: atleast Ihave never seen any such, or heard of any well authenticated factto make me believe that there are any such. The blue fheep of Rona mentioned by Boethius, I have ne 17993. of the Tauric, and other varieties of focep. 49 A secoud variciy of fheep meationed by the same authors, bearing « fleece composed of wool and hair, "is probably that which has lately drawn so particu- larly the attention of your society fur the meliora- tion of Britith wool, as I understand that the fine woolly down, which seems to surpafs every thing of the kind on your side Thibet, is hid by long hair which rises above it, and serves as a covering to the animal whilst deprived of its finer under coat; the festival of the island, must then be at iheep pulling, not at fheep /hearing as in England.* doubt were of the same kind with the fheep called blue at this day by the natives, of the kind above described, which are to be found in all the remote parts of Scotland Ihave visited, where large flocks of fheep are not kept, and where of course little attention is paid to * the breed. - Lait. * There is, I believe, no variety of fheepreared in any part of Bri- tain among which there may n t be found individuals wihtose ficece contains a mixture oi hairs; nor is there any county, or any breed a- moug which individual fheep may not be found that have no hair among the wool at all In some places however hairy wool 1s com- _ moon, and nearly universal, and in other places clean woo! is equally general, and a hairy fleece a rarity—In general, wherever the far- mers have been for a long time past attentive to the quality of their wool, the hairy sort is rare, because they have taken care not to breed from that kind ; and wherever no attention has been bestowed to the breed, hairy wool is very common. In Shetland, from what I have heard and seen, hairy wool is com- mon for no other reason than that they have hitherto bestowed no at- tention to their breed of fheep; but tortunately it is not universal, as some fine woolled fheep are still to be tound there that have no hairs at ali among their fleece. From all these facts, I am far from admitting, that hairy wool is a peculiar characteristic mark of distinc- tion of any one breed of ‘fheep whatever, though doubtleis in some districts, and in some particular flocks in these districts, that kind of fleece abounds much more than in others, Edit. * VOL, XVil.. G + $0 ofthe Tauric, and other varieties of fheep. Sept. 1] A third variety of fheep mentioned by the same old writers, and so much laughed at,-was one witha yellow fleece, and teeth of the colour of gold. But, Mr Editor, as we find two of the three varieties do exist in nature, it is but fair, before we condemn our venerable authors as fabulous, to see if it is pofsible to account for such a phenomenon from natural causes.* * In all the remote parts of Scotland and the isles, where fheep — have been in a great measure neglected, and allowed to breed pro. miscuously, without any selection, there is to be found a prodigious diversity of colours; and among others dun fheep,—or those of a brown- ish colour tending to an obscure yellow, are not unfrequent. These I have often seen; and these, I have no doubt, are the yellow fheep of Boethius. But a bright yellow fheep, resembling the clear yellow colour obtained on pure white wool by means of weld, I never saw or heard of ; and believe none such exist more than of the blue. When any variety ot these fheep becomes a favourite with a par- ticular person, those of that colour are selected to breed from ; and in this way it frequently happens that those oi one colour begin to pre~ dominate in one place more than another. It is for this reason, and to save the trouble of dying, that the poor people in the Highlands propagate black, and ruiset, and brown, and other coloured fheep, more than in any country where the wool is regularly brought to mar- ket. Inthe isle of Man a breed of dun fheep ‘s very common till this hour ; and I have been told fheep of the same dun colour, are common _ in the Crimea. ; Of all the variety of colours’ I have seen among these flocks, that of the silver grey, consisting of a mixture of pure white and black fila~ mentsis the most beautiful. Where the black is clear and fhining, and the white pure, it has a very fine lustre and brilliancy. Mottled fheep, consisting of spots o! different colours are to be found in Shetland. At Aisiabie park in Yorkshire there is a breed oi the mottied fheep which have been preserved there for a long while past asa curiosity. Tiey are descended from a ewe and ram thus marked, that came originally trom Andalusia in Sepa Their wool is very coarse BsiG, 9963. of the Tauric and other varieties of fheep 5 _ The learned zooiogist, Mr Pennant, mentions hava ing found at Athol houfe on his Scotch tour, the jaw of a foeep incrustated with gold coloured pyrites, a mineral abounding ina valley close by, where he thinks were fheep to graze, thew teeth night acquire the same incrustation. now Sir, I will venture to add, that if fheep were to be /o/ded in this pyritical valley, some ot the gold coloured particles might, without a miracle, adhere to their fleece, and produce acurious yellow glittering appearance which would not a little astonifh the vulgar, aid pofsibly transfer the story of the golden ficece from Colchis © to Athol. Di Pallas on reading over the rough copy of this “paper, made the following note at the bottom of this article. A yellowith glofsy tartar is found likewise on the teeth of the Kirguise fheep, and I think in all dry pasture grounds; but it is nothing like py- rites.* I think with Pennant, Mr Editor, that the fourth “variety mentioned by Boethius as inhabiting the island of Hirta, was very pofsibly the musimon or wild theep ; for he describes it as larger than the biggest he-goat, with a tail hanging almost to the * This remark of the learned doctor perfectly cointides with my own observations on this head. The teeth of the greatest part of fheep become black when aged, but many of them are yellowifh, though that tinze 1s evidently nothing pyritical; and is often seen on the teeth of fheep that feed where pyrites is rare, and vice versa. kedit. $2 . of foeep—Conclusion. ° Sept. 11, ground, and horns as thick and longer than those of an ox.* Conclusion. In the paper thus presented to the society for the melioration of Britifh wool, through the medium of the Bee, I have endeavoured to concentrate the whole of Dr Pallas’s observations on the flocks of the pastoral nations (a few learned inquiries excepted, of which I have only given the result, ) from the am- ple materials furnifhed by that liberal philosopher ; and I think we may draw the following conclusions from the whole. ist. That there is but one species of fheep, divided into acertain number of varieties, distinguished prin- cipally by the ¢az/ ;as the doctor has found that all the different species mentioned by authors propagate to gether an dproduce prolific descendants ; which refutes all idea of a specific diiference. * In the time of Boethius, men were very inaccurate observers of natural objects, and much dsposed to catc! at the marvellous ; on which account, their descriptions cannot be relied upon, as those of na- turalists in our day, when they speak of what they have seen. I have never found a fact except this here mentioned, which indicated, that the long tailed fheep were to be found, at an antient period, in Scot= Jand. The native, breeds of all the neglected parts of Scotland and the isles were certainly -ef the fhort tailed sorts. Wecan at this day almost trace every long tailed fheep that is now found in Scotland, from the southward. That breedscems to have been first reared in Eng~ land. It is in gencralof a larger size than the fhort tailed sort, Pofsibly some coarse fhaggy woolled breed, of the long tailed fheep, may have been brought to that islaad among the plunder from England, in some of the military expeditions so common in antient times ; and may have propagated their kind there till the memory of their first introduction was lost, Edit. 4 1793. of foeep—conclusion. 33 With regard to Wool. : 2dly, That the first variety of Pallas; the Tscher. _ kefsian or long tailed, are the best wool bearing /heep, carrying naturally an woolly fleece without admix- ture of hair in all countries where it has been found; except always in the extremes of heat and cold, which turn wool to hair in every variety of the ani- mal. _3dly, That next to the Tscherkefsian, the mixed _ breed he has named Boucharian, promises the greatest advantages with regard to fleece, if managed with ‘kill and attention by the able and industrious Europeans. This variety, the qth and last of our author, is dis- tinguifhed by a taz/, thick and fat above, but long _ and lean below, 4thly, That the Rufsian fae which . constitutes his 2d variety, distinguifhed by a fhort meagre ¢az/, are a small breed carrying wool of the very coarsest kind, only fit for the drefs of the northern peasants in a state of vafsalage; although climate, care, and _ pasture, seem to meliorate it very considgrably. sthly that the large fat ramped, or fat tailed theep, ' the variety reared from the frontiers of Europe, to those of China, by almost all the pastoral nations, and the whole of the Nomades ; and that which seems to be the most universally reared over the whole globe, as an article of food, from its size and fat- nefs, ranks the lowest with regard to fleece ; as it carries only a species of coarse wool mixed with hair, im all countries where it has been found : and even that very inferior fleece is so “matted together, as to 54 of fieep—conclusion. Sept. tr; be with difficulty carded, if ai all capable of that o- peration. However that last circumstance observed by Dr Pullas in the Kirguise fheep, may be “owing to some local cause. 6th/y, Tat a temperate climate is the most fa- vourable for the production of wool; as extremes of | both heat and cold have a tendency to convert it into hair, or at lease into a species of wool so extreme-= ly coarse, as not to be easily distinguifhed from it.* 8zhbly, That saline bitter pastures, have great in- fluence in augmenting the size of iheep, as well as in fattening them; ar the same time that such pas- tures have a particular tendency to produce the spe- cies of soft oily grease, which forms more especially on the rump and tail of the steatopyga variety of theep, and is different from suet, the kind of fat com- ‘mon to ruminating animals. gth/y, That leguminous Alpine plants, especially the astragali+, and a fhrub resembling the robinia * Ofthe effect of climate on the wool of fhe’p, more may be said than could properly come within the compafs of a note. Perhaps this may afford a subject for a separate difsertation. Some facts respecting this subject are ascertained with tolerable accuracy by experiment 5 ethers still are doubtful, and require further elucidation, so that Isus- pect we must here suspend our decision for a little. Edit. + With regard to the nutritious plants mentioned above by my learned friend, I can say nothing of the fhrub resembling a species of yobini., as he does not name it ; but I believe you have none of the genus to which he compares it. However, surely the mountains of Scotland must be well stored with Alpine plants in general, to which’ he attributes so much merit; and as ior the astragalr, which he single —_ — 2993- of foeep—conclusion. 55 caragana, when aided by a temperate climate and exercise, have a tendency to produre the largest sized domestic fheep the doctor saw in his travels, e- ven equal to the musimon or wild fheep, which lives and feeds like the flocks of the hills of Dauria, that resemble it so much in bulk. Bur that these piants have no tendency to torm the sofz oily fat mentioned above, which the doctor thinks is only produced by saline bitter pastures.* out, and that fheep choose for food in a state of nature, whilst their in- stinct is not counteracted by acquired taste, you have three species of it, viz. Astragalus glycyphillos, vr wild liquorice, A. arenarius, or pure ple mountain wilk wort, and A. uradensis, or silken astragalus. Arcticus. * The favourite food of the fheep according to the accurate remarks ofthe great Swedith botanist and his desciples, is the jestuca ovina, or fheeps fescue grafs, and on which they tatten very quickly. ‘his plant is common in dry pastures in Scotiand, and certainly could be still much more so by cuitivation. Z Plants hurtful to Sheep. After mentioning plants which are eminently salutary to fheep, it certainly will not be foreign tothe subject to point out those that are poisonous irom the same great authority. Many marfh plants are so. ist, As the anthericum ojsifragum,\or marth asphodel. 2d, The » equisetum, Or horse tail. 3d, The ranunculus Slammula, or leiser spear wort. 4th, The myo/otis aquatica, or water mouse ear; and sth, The kalmia angustifolia, and latifolia, the narrow and broad leaved kalmia, two American plants, the most deadly of all fleep poi- . Bons Of these poisonous plants, the first is very common in moorifh grounds all over Scotland. Ofthe 2d, you have 6 species of marth plants;but which is meant by the Linnzan school is difficult to gucis; howeyer theve 1s littiedanger of fheep meddling with what is hard enough to politli wood. The 3d. is common with you by the sides of dakes and ditches; but a Highland ‘ 56 of foeep—conclusion. Sept. 18. ‘rothly, That much depends on the care and kill of the fhepherd, to meliorate the fleece, augment the size, ard correct the form of theep, even to that of the horas, by pasture, exercise, and above all by the judicious choice of rams, on which much depends; as not alone beauty and other desirable qualities, but deformity and even disease may be propagated and handed down through many generations. tithly, And lastly, I think one might almost ha- zard an opinion from Dr Pallas’s information, that by care and attention to the fleece of lambs, of the Tcherkefsian, Boucharian, and Tauric varieties, from their birth to a certain age, a valuable fur trade might be carried on with the north and China, where they are in such high estimation with the rich and great, as a winter drefs, even more than our finest Siberian furs, at least in Rufsia and Poland. Nay even common fheep skins, however coarse, with the care and skill applied to every manufacture in Great Britain, would soon set at defiance all northern competition, and come to the widest mar. ket of any article of commerce ; as every peasant has an outer winter garb, and most of the superior clafs- es as a morning gown, have at least one fheep skin man’s blister, seems as !ittle tempting to fheep, as the joiner’s po- Jifher. The 4th is common on the sides of rivulets and lakes in Scatland. And asto the 5th, I hope it will never be brought over to Scotland, even for the botanic gardev, if we are to credit Linnceus, that several fo. ‘reign plants have planted themselves over a whole province,the seeds being carried by the winds from such gardens as they were introduced jato Jor curiosity. ‘Arcticus, #793. Sheep—conclusions 57 fhube coarser or finer in every northern country, wherein 'the climate requires furs. I must own however that | am speaking here, ¢! mean, with regard to the fabrication of fheep skins with the wvol on them in Great Britain,) with little or no knowledge of the subject ; as the price of wool, hides &c. there, must ditermine the expediency of the measure : but if I am to judge of the succefs of ‘one Britifh manufactory by that of another, with pofsibly 50 per cent against it, on the side of the Rufsians, my speculation w:ll not appear without some foundation. I allude to the curious article of iron purchased originally from this country, and afterwards sold here manufactured, after paying so many duties and charges on both sides the water, cheaper than the natives can aiford it; nay this is not confined to the finer articles, for even Britifh iron railing, is sold in Petersburgh cheaper aad nea er than it can be made in this city from the original iron, although the Rufsians have so great 4 sum in their favour, if all the charges are reckoned up, from the exportation of the rough, to the sale of the ma- nufactured iron. Surely I say, judging from~such an example of the wondertul effects of 1-dustry and fkill, one would think, that theep skins, the produce of Great Britain, might at least come to this market with the advantage which superior skill and drefsing would give them, over the native manufactortes, SS ee ee ; and that alone, in my opinion, were even the prices _ equal, would be sufficient to give them such a pre-= _ ference, as would send them through all the north ; VOL xv a t 58 on delays in the court of Sefsion. Sept. 11. ' for the durability of a pelice or fhube is a great ob- ject to the peasant, and indeed in a lefs degree to all clafses. whilst one half of the fheep skins manufac- tured in the north, are partly rotten when brought to market, being burnt up, I believe, by a quantity of calcareous earth (probably ina caustic state,) with which every pore ‘is filled. In fhort, it appears to me that a much better mode of drefsing, at least the common {theep skin furs, might be fallen upon, than what is at present practised in Rufsia; and that would give such a superiority to the new manufac- tory, as must be attended with a great sale; for I regard such an improvement, as areal desideratum in that branch of trade. ON THE DELAYS INCIDENT TO THE COURT OF SEssIon. To the Lord President of the Court of Sefsian. LETTER I1.* My Lorp, I; the interlocutors were reduced to two, upon each point, and all dispute upon counter-claims was pre- cluded, one might think it only remained to decide at once upon the justice of the pleas of the parties, and so terminate the dispute. But the case is quite o- therwise ; and there are many more bars in the way of a speedy decision. * Continued from vol. xvi. p- 280 1793« on delays on the court of Sefsion. 59 The party complaining of an interlocutor, must lodge his representation, or present his reclaiming * petition, within the space of a fortnight, otherwise the interlocutor becomes final. But there is no such necefsity to lodge answers within any given time. In the outer-house there is not even an amand im- posed ; but barely an order given, to lodge answers within ten days or a fortnight ;* and | have known the best part of a sefsion lost before sych an or- der could be enforced, by dint of repeated enroll- ments. A defender has usually nothing to gain by the ifsue of the cause, and when he happens to be res- pondent, delay ensues ; and it sometimes becomes a new question, whether the old one fhall proceed or not, besides giving rise to illiberal reflections be- tween the parties, as to the reason of the delay, and so producing ill humour and additional vexa- tion and expence through all the after stages of the cause. : An amand is by no means an adequate remedy ; and the ready compliance with the orders of the in- ner-house is justly ascribed, not tothe amand, but to your Lordfhip’s vigilance, and the fear of your dis- pleasure. ; An order to answer, will always be eluded more or lefs, until the respondent-is cut off, from even the hope of delay. And therefore I would humbly pro- * One honourable judge only, is in use to annex a penalty to his or- fier, and it generally proves unavailing. It goes tothe poor; and the talk ts invidious to insist upon its being paid. Be 60 on delays in the court of Sefsion. Sept. X« pose a regulation (like the act of sederunt 26th No- vember 171 5,) pre luding the pofs:bility of receiv- ing answers, unlefs they are lodged within fourteen days, and so sending the cause to be advised, as it then stands. I know not of any disadvantage that this would be attended with, unlefs to diminilh the emo- lument of the members of court, whom I formerly mentioned. And as every new regulation to save time has that tendency, it is surely worth while trying to makeup their lafs in some other way. If the endu- rance of a lawsuit coud be fhortened one half, the litigants could well afford to ‘pay double the fees of — court that they d» at prese t It is to be regrett:d, that in many cases of delay, no such remedy as I have proposed regarding ans- wers can well be devised. An ordei to condescend: to produce a material paper: to give in astate of ac- counts: to make up an order of rank'ng, and other orders of various kinds, often produce astonifhing de- lays, and it is very difficult to propose a remedy: but such orders fhall be the subject of a future let- ter. lam ec. LENTULUs. | ON VARIOUs WAYS OF MAKING MONEY, For the Bee. “God made man upright, but he hath found out many inventions. , I am an old domine, Mr Editor, who have toiled hard for fourteen hours a day, during forty years ee ee ete ee 17093. ways of making money. Gr past, in hopes of getting some little thing laid up for a sore heel in my old age ; but in vain: for af- ter having got my old \ig new drefsed, my clothes put into the best trim ] could, to make a few visits during the vacance, and a pair of new fhoes to car- ry me along the road, I find there is no danger that my pockets will be worn out with the weight of my purse. It was an old practice with my grandmother, who lived to a good old age, to try to discover her fortune by the sortes virgilhane ; that 15, when fhe wifhed to know what would be the result of any arduous in- terprise, fhe used to open her bible at random, and observe what was the first sentence that catched her eye; from the tenor of which fhe augured the succefs of her plan. Though I believe in no such heathen- ifh tricks, I learned such a practice of doing this when young, that I sometimes, even yet, do it by a sort of involuntary impulse. The sentence I have chosen as a motto turned up thus to me this morning, as I was meditating upon the plansT fhould adopt for bettering my fortune in future. But what on thinks |, can I fall upon for this purpose ? Now, , I had been so otten foiled in every at- tempt 7 had mad-, chat I could not think of any thing that had tye smallest prospect of succefs ; and I walked forward :uminating upon the subject, as I went to brevkiast with a worthy clergyman, who al- Ways receives me with great kindnefs on my an- nual circuit. At breakfast he kindly invited me to spend the day with him, observing that [ thould pe in time enough tomorrow to the place of my next 62 ways of making money. Sept. 11, visit. The invitation was too flattering for me to refuse it; and I, with much satisfaction to myself, consented. ' While my friend was fhaving, to accompany me in an excursion to see the improvements in his glebe, I took up a book to glance at. It was the eighth volume of your Bee ; and as chance would have it, the first thing that turned up to me there, was the letter of Juridicus to Mr Semple. (Bee vol. 8. p. 318.) which was exactly to my purpose. Verily said I to myself, this man hath found out one, and not one of the worst of the ‘* many inventions” for making money. What a dunce of a fellow am | that I fhould not have thought of this. You are right, said I, Mr Juridicus, for it is only two days since [ was hospitably entertained, almost with a royal profusi- on, by a man who lived in a stile of sumptuosity that T had never before witnefsed, whose generous C—-rs a very fhort time ago, thankfully accepted of two fhillings, or half a crown a pound, in full of all de- mands ; no doubt from the noble principle that they might enable him to live in future, not like a gen- tleman, which he did before; but like a nobleman, -which hé now does ! Great is the magnanimity and generosity of the Britifh nation!!! Well, but thinks J, this invention, excellent as it is, will not suit me. J] cannot get even credit for a good new coat; I must therefore think of some other in- vention, The thovght has not gone out of my head all day. In the course of my meditations, I recollec- ted that once upon atime, now a good while ago, we, poor devils of schoolmasters, thinking to get 1793- ways of making money. 63 a small fund for our widows, collected our mites, and put them into the hand of a good man, to attend our interest in parliament on that businefs; but this worthy man, after hearing how things went above, and no doubt agreeing in opinion with your corres= pondent Thunderproof, that that house was ‘* no better than it fhould be,” judged that fhould the mo- ney be laid out there, it would only be ‘* like butter _ in the black dog’s hafs,” and wisely thought it might be much more beneficially applied to another purpose ; so, after having lodged the money safely, in his own pocket, he set out for the land of promise; where, by the help of our mutes, it has proved to him a land . overflowing with milk and honey. Yea, verily said I again to myself, this is alsoone of the ‘* many inventi- ons,” for making money, that man. hath found out, and a good invention too. One thought brings on another. ReForm said I to myself, is an excellent word for collecting gulls toge- ther ; and as no kind of reform, you know, can be brought about without money, and money cannot be applied without somebody to collect it. Now, might not a man who has a tolerable noddle for inventions, contrive to sound an alarm,—point out in strong lan- guage the necefsity of a reform of one kind or other, it matters not what ;—invite people to afsociate, indis-~ tricts, in cities, in parifhes, for this purpose ;— get himself appointed secretary, to whom all collections must be sent ; and then, ifthe sums levied be abun- dant, - - he is a dunce indeed who does not know what to do with it. I then recollected the afsociation about the bill of rights, and remember 64 ways of making money. Sept. tls that considerable sum; were cuilected for thar pure pese in our parifh; but what became of them I know not, for I was not so much interested in that businefs as the other ; but p-rhaps some of your rea ders can tell. J recollect also many other collecti- ons for reforms of various kinds Would not this be an excellent invention for me, to try if I could be made secretary general to some reforming society ? Can you help me to such a thing, Mr Editor? It you can, I will eadeavour to b: friend you when I| go to Ameriea. Bur I fear 1 must get a better coat, and a new wig before I can put in my claim; for a poor looking fellow, lik: the apothecary in Hamlet, ex- cites alarms at the very sight of him: and how to get my belly up, and my cheeks blowsy, I know not: so that | f-ar, however excellent the invention may be for others, it will not altogether suit my circumstances, After having tired myself with writing the a- bove, and ruminati:g upon it, I took up a bouk to amuse myselfa little It was travels in North Ame- rica by a P. Campbell In the course of my read- ing, I met with the following anecdote, which fhews that this same invention is also known in America. Whether these our obedient children have learnt it from us, their loving parents, I (hall not take it upon me to say; bui if they have learnt it from some of our emigrants, they are not unapt scholars, I trans cribe from the 312th page of that book, ‘+ It however revived in my mind a story I was told that happened in the Jersic., much about the time I was there, and seemed well authenticated, of 4493: ways of making money. 65 | aset of religious enthusiasts, who were in use of afsembling in a certain house of worfhip in the neighbourhood of Elizabeth Town, and whose tenets ran much on the notion of the devil being fond of money. This article in their creed was admitted by all, as also that he made much more use of money to bribe Christians, than Indians ; which was clear from the former being greater worfhippers of the Golden Calf, than the latter, wholly owing to his machinations. A wiser head than the rest suggest- ed the idea of bribing the devil himself with money, to prevent his working on the pafsions of any of their sect. The scheme was highly applauded, and approved of as the best that could be devised ; and the projector of it himself, requested to set about collecting sums of money, adequate to the businefs, which he had the humanity to do without losing much time, lest the devil fhould be at work on them . in the interim ; and to inforce his arguments, he told them thateach man’s fhare fhould be placed to his own account; and as they all knew the devil was nct to be put off with a trifle, he hoped they wotld contri- bute accordingly. ** Conttibutions went on liberally ; and no inconsi- derable sum was collected, with which he went off, to bribe the devil, as already said, with the consent and approbation of all concerned, ; but whether he found him worse to please than he expected, and did not get his businefs effected, was not known when I was there ; but so it was, that he had not return. ed, though he had then been two or three months away upon that businefs.” VOL Xvii. i + 66 reading memorandums. . Sept. 11. Now Sir, could I meet with a set of fanatics, my long lanthern-jaws would accord very well with the character I fhould there have~to act. But the mise- ry is, that nature has thrown into my countenance such a dah of facetious humour, that I cannot for my life afsume these hypocritical grimaces for two minutes together ; so that here also I fhould be foil- ed. The upfhot of the whole is, that I suspect I am not one of the men who have ** found out many in- ventions” tomake money; so that I fear I must remain - even as God made me, upright and poor to the end of the chapter: and IJ much doubt I fhall never visit the land of promise, which overfloweth with milk and honey ; nor have! any ambition to visit Botany Bay ; so that for aught I can see, I must even re-~ main as I began - d c ~ eee, A ‘Poor DomINeE. Aug. 20+ 1793. : \ - READING MEMORAND UMS. Let us give up our fig leaved theories, and betake ourselves to the continuation of the experimental system of the great Roger Bacon, and his mote for- tunate succefsor the lord of Verulam. The result of this noble and satisfactory system will be the increase of human happinefs, and the confefsion of every reasonable soul, that to be\busy, © and useful, and virtuous, and pious, is to be happy . and truly beneficial to society, for which we were — originally intended by our bountiful, Creator. | bet POETRY. Sir, To the Editar of the Bee. _ none of the early volumes of the Bee I was pleased to see some re- marks on pastoral poetry ; and_was in hopes these might have been continued, but regret that they have not. I agree with the writer. t of these inthinking that there are very few good specimens of pasto- ral poetry existing, and that these few are to be found chiefly among the rustic compositions of the unlettered muse; for there only we meet with nature free from affectation, the great*kane of modern , pastorals. I beg leave to send youa specimen of pastoral poetry, that pleased me very much; and willbe glad it you give ita place in the Bee. It is perfectly devoid of those nauseating com-.~ mon places that that so frequently recur in almost every eclogue of modern times. I need hardly add that it is taken from the poems of Rowley, with the orthographya little modernised. A. she ; Tue Hay Fietp, A moral eclogue. Woutpst thou see nature pure and unarray’d? Visit the lowly cottage of the hind; — His art (if any) home-spun and rough made, Disguises not the workings of his mind. To thee whom simple nature’s lore can charm, These words I send, heard late in yillage-farm. Man. But whither fair maid do ye go? Oh where do ye bend your way ? I will be told whither ye go, 4 I will not be answered nay. Woman. I go to the dale, down to Robin and Nell, To help ’em at making of hay. Man Sir Robert, the parson, has hired me there, ‘ Come, come, let us hasten away ; [cheers] a Weill work and we’ll sing, and we ‘ll make mepry 4 As long as the long summer’s day. — Woman. How hard is it always to work? ; How full is our sad state of care ? “Lady Bridget who lies in the kirk, as Deckt with jewels and gold, Was of the same mold ;-— Why than ours was her fortune more fair ? Man. Lo, our good priest is at the gate. , Ever ready to counse! his neighbour, He'll tell why, whilst some are so great, We are dogm’d without ceasing to labour, Str Rogert the priest [meditating alone] The sultry sun is in his mid career; A seed of life from ev’ry beem he theds: a * Yet. while his piercing rays the grafs make sear, See! the sever’d flowret withers o’erthe meads! J - Lost its rich fragrance! lost its vermeil bloom !— When sever’d by death’s dart, such is the gen’ral doom: PRIEST. Man. PRIEST. a poetry. Mi: Sept. 11, All-a-boon, Sir priest! all,a-boon ! hey * I beseech thee now say unto me, Why Sir Geoff’ry the knight, with his lady so bright, So rich and so happy fhould be, Whilst myself and my mate, in wretched estate, Must in labour and drudgery all our days waste; Yet never of plenty or honours fhall taste ? Turn thine eyes round upon this new mown lee ; With look. attentive view the wither’d dale ; Here to thy question thou’lt fit answer see ; This faded flow’r suggests a moral tale. Late. freth it blow’d, it flourified and did well, Proudly disdaining the fhort neighb’ring green ; Yet now its pride is humbled;—lo! where fell Its faded glories on the sun burnt plain ! Did not its gaudy look, whilst it did stand, To pluck it im its prime move some dread hand ? Such is the way of life :—the’ great’ man’s wealth Tempts ruffian violence his peace to wound : If thou art blefs’d with bread, content, and health, ’ Believe the truth,—none is more happy found. ‘Thou workest ?—well can that a trouble be? Sloth more would tire thee than the roughest day; Couldst thou the inmost soul of man but see, Full well thou’dst be convine’d of what T say. But let me hear thy way of life; and then Hear thou from me the liyes of other men, I rise up with the sun, Working the live long day ; And when my work is done, I tune some roundelay ; I follow the plough-tail With a jug of good ale. On ev’ry holiday With the Minstrils am I seen, Chearful, footing it away, With maidens on the green: But oh! I wifh to be more great Tn honour, title, and estate. Hast thou not seen a tree upon a hill, Whose tow’ring branches to the fkies ascend ? Hast thou not'seen it by the roots up-torn, When some fierce tempest earth and heav’n doth rend? While lowly thrubs that in the vale delight, Unhurt, unfhaken bide the pelting storm ? Such is this world’s estate :—the man of might Tstempest chaft ; his woe great as his form: Thys.') now a low fhrub ofsmaJl account, Wond’st fiercer feel the wind, ifhigher thou cond’st mount, | £793 the solitudes: 6g THE SOLITUDES. Communicated by Senex. In compliance with the request of our respectable correspondent Se- nex, we do not hesitate to insert the following reflections, though sensible that to some of our readers they will not be altogether ac- ceptable: but to such as have had the tender ties of friendfhip and gongenial feelings disunited by death, and other crofs acci~ dents ot life, so as to give the susceptible mind that serious cast which looks forward to a state of future existence, as to a resting place, where care and sorrows fhall be for ever banifhed, it will ex- cite a voluptuous flow of tender ideas which are ineffably plea- sing. Sotrrary fields where nature is silent, buried in dismal horror! burning plains where melancholy dwells! fright- ful rocks! hide the world from my view; my wearied soul sighs for repose. The universe, my heart, every thing is like a desert :—all is calm like the tomb. O thou, my lyre! who by thy harmonious sounds canst tender peace to the soul! thou who wert wont to sing the fleeting sorrows of my youth! thou art now silent, and liest neglected in the dust: still make these savage wilds resound with thy tender plaints! And thou, spark of eternal light, O Sun! conceal thy sad rays: here all is frightful ! . What majestic divinity Machi slowly from the hill, with dow ncast eyes, and plunged in a deep reverie? Her beau- ty fhines through her sadnefs; her forehead is crowned with cyprefs; the zephir gently waves her flowing hair : fhe advances slowly with a celestial serenity ; the deserts even become beautiful at her approach. She resembles the inhabitants of Olympus, or thee, O fair Amelia. Young | man, know the muse destined by heaven to console ten- ly 70 ~ the solitudes. Scpi, 1%. der hearts. Not her who sighed formerly the weak com- } plaints of Ovid, and the soft griefs of Tibullus, but the who, fuli of sublime gravity, animated the immortal nights of the Britifh bard. Come O muse! animate mealsoin my turn. But alas! you fly from me. - - - + Agreeable error! return. - - - I stili find myself alone in the midst of the gloomy plains.—The muse has disappeared. But would fhe have consoled me !—me whom wisdom herself cannot ‘console. Wisdom! earthly wisdom, what art thou? An illusi- on of a few instants: a pompous dream where the ideal Irus is seated on the throne of kings; but when Aurora, from the bosom of the blufhing clouds descends upon the smiling earth—whén the darknefs is dis- pelled,the dream flies away and leaves only a beggar in place of a king; in the place of a sage, nothing but a fool. Like to those despicable warriors who before the battle insult the fugitives, and menace the enemy from afar ; wbut who, whien he is near, know only to tremble and to fly ; thou darest to brave the evils to come, and in thy pride to boast that thou wilt conquer grief. But alas! thou Wiest at the aspect of misfortunes present. The sage discovers then what he is - - - a man; that which he will be - - - - - vunanimated dust. Unanimated clay! . + . ; Andthou, O lovely Se- rena! art thou then no more than dust! . . » The tender tears of friendfhip will awaken thee no more! Thy sleep will endure till the sound of the'last trumpet fhall afsemble us again. ‘Thou sleepest* . . . No, thou dost not sleep. -Elevated above the luminous clouds, £793: the solitudes. "t thou lookest down upon this earth,—thou hearest my moan. It touches thee. . . But thy compafsion hath nothing of dolorous. It is altogether celestial, Yes, thou livest ! . . «. It is I who am dead . . . Dead to the blandifhments of pleasure . . . Dead to the love of glory which formerly excited me to wake in silence by the light of the nocturnal lamp, surrounded by the wri: tings of those immortal sages, who still, even after their decease, instruct the earth —They still live, and I am no more.—When! Ovwhen fhall come that dread hour; the hour of verité, which {hall free my soul from this bo- idy of dust! Wast solitude! then I fhall gently repose up- on thy bosom, forgotten in the peaceful earth—May no inscription warn the traveller who I was! but may some young man, whose heart is susceptible of the most tender emotions, one day fhed atear upon my grave . . .. Let the rest of mortals remain ignorant of the value of my heart; the soul enlarged from its prisen fhall take its flight into the heavens. Inhabitants of the celestial spheres! invisible compani- ons of men! ye whom heaven has destined to watch over virtue! Angels! Genii! what name fhould I give thee? Perhaps touched with my grief, at this moment you sur- round me.—You count my tears,—you communicate one to the other the emotions with which they inspire thee—E- therial substances ! speak,—Is not Serenaamong yon? That tender friend whom death hath snatched from me, is fhe not now charged by heaven to be my tutelar Angel? Ce- lestial spirit! O divine Serena, no longer refuse to unvail thyself to my impatient desires. This earthly and mor- ‘wal eye, cannot, it is true, perceive thy aerian body. Come, neverthelefs, render thy beauty visible to my per- ception. Appear in this desert; and let thy presence be- €ome to me a heaven. ‘ 42 an inscription. Sept. 18. _ But cease! O my soul to bewilder thyself—Let not 4 rafh flight carry theé into the regions of delirium! It is enough to agitate and deceive thyself.—Uselefs desires, disappear. May tranquil wisdom descend and take thy place in my afflicted heart! -. . . Repose accompa- nies wisdom. ‘Thou, whom the hearts of celestial spirits callest by a name unknown on the éarth, but whom men formerly called Serena! Happy soul! thou no longer feel- est the disappointments of humanity» Separated from us by an immense interval,—placed above the inconstant scenes of this life, thou livest now in a world where thé limits of joy and of grief never interfere,—where vice and virtue are never confounded,—where tears never mix with pleasure,—where the excefs of voluptuousnefs no more be- comes a poignant grief. O world! what art thou? A deceitful theatre. What are the different states of man? Parts which providence has distributed to them as if to try them. Happy is he who has well performed his part! Death draws the cur- tain. Anew theatre awaits us, where the greatest parts will be acted by those who have worthily filled the lefser ones on this earth. The world has not known thee, O Serena! nor what ought to be the greatnefs of thy part! To be continued. a SIR To the Editor of the Bee. JT am neither a scholar nor a cellector of curiosities; but as 1 have often, in the course of my travels through Scotland, which I usually visit once a year, been enter- tained and instructed by your Miscellany, which frequent- ly falls in my way; I am willing to contribute my mite 1993- an inscription: 23 for the entertainment of others; in return for the favours Thave received from them. If you think the following inscription, which pleased me from its plain ‘simplicity, will be agreeable to your readers, it is much at your ser- _vice ; and in that case I fhall think the trouble I have taken in transcribing it abundantly repaid. It is written on a plain slab of white marble placed in the front of a building erected by a taylor for charitable purposes in Stirling. What struck me as a singularity in this case, is that Iam informed the gentleman who wrote the inscrip-_ tion has dedicated a great part of his time to the perfec- ting military engines of destruction. How he can recon- cile his theory with-his practice I pretend not to say. : He is not a clergyman as I am afsured; for if he had, the _ase, you know, would not have beenuncommon. Above the inscription is the figure of a large pair of tailor’s scif- sars. A Riper.” InscRIPTION. [Place of the scifsars. ] In order to relieye the distrefs of useful members of society, the ground within this wall, with the adjoining hospital and lands for supporting it, were given to the tradesmen of Stirling, in the year 1530 by Robert Spit- tal who was taylor to king James the fourth of Scotland. He likewise gave part of his wealth for building useful bridges in this neighbourhood. Forget not, reader that the scifsars of this man do more honour to human nature than the swords of conquerors! VOL. xvii. . + 74 the Indian cottage, @ tale. Sept. 1l~ THE INDIAN COTTAGE, A TALE. Continued from page 38. When the Englifhman had done eating, the paria presented him With a coal to light his pipe, and having also lighted his own, he made a sign to his wife who,brought, and set upon the mat, two cups made of the fhell of the cocoa nut, and a large calabafh full of punch, which fhe had made duying supper, of water, arrack, and the juice of the sugar cane. While they smoaked and drank alternately, sdys the doctor to the Indian, ‘ I believe you are one of the happiest men I have ever met, and consequently one of the wisest. Permit me to ask you some gnestiohs. How are you so calm in the midst of such a terrible storm? You are fheltered only by a tree,: and trees attract lightening.’ ‘* New ver, replied the Indian, has the lightening struck the banian fig tree.’? ‘ That is very curious, replied the doctor ; the reason must be, that this tree, like the laurel, is pofsefsed of negative electricity.’ “ I do not understand you, rejoined the paria; but my wife believes it is because the God Brahma ‘one day fheitered himself under its foliage: for my part, [think that God having given the banian fig tree in these stormy climes, a very close foliage, and arched branches to fhelter the hu- nan species from the tempest, he does not permit them to be struck with lightening under its covert.” * Your answer is very pious, re~ plied the doctor; thus it is your trust in God that gives you tranquillity af mind: A good conscience gives more courage and calmneis of mind than the most extensive views of science. Tell me, I pray you, of what cast are you; for you are not of any of those of the Indians, since no Indian will have any intercourse with you. In my list of the learned casts that I was to consult on my route, I never observed that of the parias. In what district of India is your pagoda?? “ Every where replied the paria: my pagado is the universe. Zadore its author at the rising of the sun, ard I blefs him at its setting. Instructed by mis- " fortune, I never refuse my alsistance to any one more unhappy than myself, Lendeavour to render happy my ‘wile acd child, and even my — so 3793> the Indian cottiite a ‘taile. , "5 cat and my dog. LTawait death at the termination of life as a sweet sleep at the ciose of day.” ‘ From what book have youdrawn these principles?’ said the doctor. ‘ From that-of nature, replied the In- dian; I know no other.” ‘ Ah! that is a great book, said the Eng- lifhman: but who taught you to read it?? “ Misfortune, replied the paria; being of a cast reputed infamous in my own country, unable to be an Indian, I have made myself a man; rejected by society, Lhave fled for refuge to nature.” ‘ But in your solitude you have at least some books?’ replied the doctor. ‘ Not one, said the paria. ’ Ican neither read nor write.” ‘ You have sayed yourself the uneasinels of many a painful doubt, said the doctor, rubbing his forehead: for my part, I have been sent from England, my native country, in search of truth among the iearned of many nations, with a view to enlighten them, and to render them happier; but after many vain researches, and very grave disputes, I concluded that the search for truth is folly, because when one has found it, he knows not to whom he can impait it without making himself many enemies. Speak to me with sincerity, are * not you of my opinion.’ “ Though I am only anilliterate person, replied the paria, since you permit me to give my opinion, I fhall give it frank- ly; Ithink that every man is obliged to seek the truth, forthe sake of his own happinefs; otherwise he will be covetous, ambitious, addicted to superstition, wicked, and worthlefs; nay even a cannibal, according to the prejudices, or the interest of those with whom he has been bred up.” The doctor, who was still thinking on the three questions which he had proposed to the chief of the pandicts, was charmed witli the pa- ria’s answer. -‘ Since you believe, says he tohim, that every man is ; obliged to seek the truth, tell me what means one ought to use in or- er to find it; for our senses deceive us, and our reason bewilders us still more. Reason is quite different in different persons; and, I be- lieve, it is at bottom only the particular interest of each of them: this [take to be the cause why it is so variable in the world. There are not two religions, two nations, two tribes, two families; what am ‘Isaying? there are not two individuals that think exactly alike. With what sense ought one then to search for trut ahs if even the understand- ing cannot be of service in the-investigation.’ ‘ I believe replied the paria, that it is with simplicity of ese, The senses and the judge- ment may be beguiled; but a simple, a sincere and honest heart, though it may be deceived, never deccives.” ~ * Your answer is profound, said the doctor. One must search after fruth with his heart, not with his understanding. Men all fecl in the ‘ 6 the Indian cottage, a tale. Sept. it! . same mariner ; and they reason differently, because the ptinciples'o” truth are founded in nature, but the consequences which they deduc® from these depend upon theirown interest. It is with a single heart there- fore that one ought to seek for truth : for a single heart never pretend$ to understand, or to believe, what it does not. It never afsists to impose upon itself, nor afterwards to impose upon others; thus a single heart far from being weak, like that of most men seduced by their different interests, is strong, fitted to investigate truth, and to preserve it when found.’ ‘ You have exprefsed my idea much better than I could ‘have done myself, replied the-paria. Truthis like the dew of-heaven, to pre- serve it pure, one must gather it with a pure cloth and put it in a clean vefsel].”” is © It is very well said, honest friend, replied the Englishman, but a still more difficult question remains to be solved. Where must one seek truth? A single heart depends on ourselves, but truth depends on others. Where fhall we find it, if those who surround us are seduced by their prejudices, or corrupted by their ‘nterest, as they generally are? I have travelled among various nations; I have ransacked thei¢ libraries; I have consulted their learned men; and I have found noz thing but contradictions, doubts, and opinions, a thousand times more yaried than their languages. Iftherefore truth is not to be found in the most celebrated depositaties of human knowledge, where fhall we go to seek it? What putpose will it serve to have a single heart a~ mong men who have a false ‘understanding and a corrupt heart? “ [ fhould suspect the truth itself, replied the paria, ifit depended upon men, if T received it by their means only; it is not among them that one must seek it; itis in nature. Nature is the sourse of all that exists. Her language is not difficult to be understood, and variable, like that of men in their books. Men make books, but nature makes things. To rest the foundation of truth on a book is as if one founded it ong picture, or on a statue, which can prove interesting only to one coun- try, and which the hand of time alters every day. Every book is the work ofa man, but nature is the work of God.” ‘ You areright, re- plied the doctor; nature is the source of natural truths: but where is .for example, the source of historical truths, if it be not in books. How fhall we do then to afgure ourselves at present of the truth of an event that happened two thousand years ago? Those who have transmitted jt to us, were they free from prejudice, and party spirit? Had they @ single heart? Hiesides even the books that transmit them to us, do not they stand in need of transcribers, of printers, uf ommentators, of bd = ta m ms = — = 2 fe aE aS eee es eee > ROS nh” ‘ 9793: the Indian cottage, a tale. Wy 3 franstators? And these people, do they never alter the truth in a _ greater, or lefs degree? As you well observe, a book is only the work ofa man. It is neceisary then to-give up all historical truth, since it tan reach us only by men liable to error.’* ‘* What connection, said: the Indian, has the knowledge of past events with our happinefs? The history of what is, is the history of what hath been, and of that which hall be hereafter?” © Very well said the Englithmar, but you will grant that moral “ truths are necefsary tohuman happinefs. How, then fhall we find these in nature. There the animals make war upon, kill\and devour each other ; evgn the elements are at war with each other ; will notmen fact inthe same manner?’ Oh no! replied the good paria, but each man will find the rule of his conduct in his own heart, if his heart be single. Nature has there implanted this law, “ Never do to others, what you ‘would not wish them to do to you.” * It is true, replied the doctor fhe has regulated their interests with regard to each other; but religi- ous truths, how fall we discover them among the different traditions, fand the different modes of worlhip which divide the nations?’ “ In nature, too, replied the paria: if we cénsider her with a single heart, we willsee God there, in his power, in his wisdom, and in his good- nefs; and as we are weak, ignorant, and miserable, we have here a- bundant reason to engage us to adore him, to pray to him, and to love him, during our whole life, withowt disputing.” — | ¢ Admirable! rejoined the Englifhman ; but, at the same time, tell me, when one has discovered the truth, ought it not to be imparted to others ? If you pubiith it, you will be persecuted by evast number of q ‘people whg live by maintaining the contrary error, by maintaining ' that this error itself is the truth, and that whatever tends to dés. troy it is itself erroneous.’ ‘ “Tt is necefsary, replied the paria, to impart the truth to those who havea single heart, that is to say, to the virtuous who are in quest of it, and not to the wicked who reject it. Truth is a choice pearl, and the wicked a crocodile who cannot admit it into his ears, because he hasnone. If you throw a pearl before a crocodile, instead of adorn- ing himse!f with it, he will devour it, or he wil! break his teeth upon it, and through fury fall upon you.’ ‘ I have unly one objection to make, said the Englifhman: it follows as a,consequence from what you have said, that men «re condemned to crror, though truth be ne_ cefsary to their happinefs; for since they persecute those who tell it = them, who is the teacher that will dare to instruct them? “ THe sai | 2 » ’ : ¢ 58 the Indran cottage, a tale. Sept. i, replied the paria, who himself persecutes men in ‘order to instruct thems misfortune.” ‘ Ha! for once, pupil of nature, replied the Englifhman, Ifancy you are mistaken. Misfortune throws men inte superstition. It casts down the heart and spirit of a man. It renders @ man unfeeling and mean spirited.- Men are unhappy in proportien as they are low, credulous, and mean,’ “ Because they are not unhappy enough, replied the paria; misfortune resembles the black mountain of Bember in the confines of the burning kingdom of Lahore, while you ascend, you see before you barren rocks only ; but when you are got to the summit you see the fky ever your head, and at your feet the king- dom of Cachemire.”” ‘ Charming. and just comparison, oie the deci: in life indeed each has his mountain to climb. Yours, virtuous hermit, must have been very rugged, for you are raised to an elevation far above all the amen I have everknown. You have then been very unhappy, have you ?? (The philosopher then enquires why his cast was so much detested in - India, and receives answers that fhow at once the extreme absurdity of the reason, and the misery to which the outcast parias are reduced jm consequence of these grdundlefs prejudices. He then thus pro- ceeds.) : ‘ But, says the doctor, how did you find the means of subsistence, Deing thus rejected by alisociety?’ “ At first, said the Indian, I said to myself, if every body i; thine enemy, be thou thine own friend. Thy misfortune is not above the powers’ of man.. However heavy be the rain, the little bird receives only one drop at a time. I strayed in zhe woods, and along the banks of rivers seeking food; butI there most frequently found nothing but some wild fruits, and I had reason to be afraid of ferocious beasts. Thus I became sensible that nature had made almost nothing for a solitary individual, and that fhe had connect. ed my existence with that society which pufhed me from its bosom. ‘“*T then frequented the desolated plains, of which there are many in India, and Ithere alwaysmet with some vegetable or other, fit for food, shat had survived the ruin of those who had cultivated it. I travelled, in this manner, from province to province, afsured of finding every where, from the wreck of agriculture, the means of subsistance. "When I -found the seeds of any useful plant, I sowed them again; saying, if it do not bencfit me, it may be of service to others. I found myself lef, miserable, seeing I could do some good. There was however one thing that I pafsionately desired: that was to enter into some cities. I ad- mired at a distance their ramparts and towers, the prodigious con- course pf yefsels in'their rivers, and of caravans upon their high ways, — 1703. index indicatorious. \ 79 loaded with merchandize, which were always arriving from every point of the compafs ; the warlike troops which came from the far- _thest provinces to mount guard there, ambafsadors with their nume- rous retinues, arriving from distant nations to notify happy events, or | in order to form alliances. I drew as near as I was permitted their outlets, viewing with astonifhment the columns of dust raised by so ma~ ny travellers, and felt my heart thrill with desire, at hearing the con. fused din of great cities, which in the neighbouring plains resembles the murmur of the waves breaking on the fhore of the sea. I-said to my- self; an afsemblage of men, from many different states, who have put into one common stock their industry, their riches, and their joy, must " make acity a delightful abode. But if I may not enter it by day, ‘what hinders me to enter it during the night? A weak silly mouse, who has somany enemies, goes and comes where fhe pleases, by the favour of the darknefS: fhe pafses from the hnt of the cottager, to the palace of the prince. To enjoy life the light of the stars suffices Ler; and why mustI have that of the sun?” To be continued. InDEX INDICATORIUS. A lady who designs herself Isabella, sent to the Editor long a. ~go a warm euligium on mifs Jean Wood, daughter of the late gover- nor Wood of the isle of Man; an effusion which though highly beco- ming in private, might not, the Editor supposed, have been altogether agrecable to the relations of the deceased lady. It is prefaced with this modest apology; “‘ nor will any one, I hope, be offended at a young woman, for being grateful to an amiable but deceased friend.” She closes the character thus, “ At the age of 26 the died universally beloved. She wasa dutiful daughter, an affectionate sister, a kind mistrefs, a faithful and unfhaken friend, and as Dr Blacklock says, Enough of life is given When fame and virtue grace its close.” Scratch-Crown favours the Editor with an extract from the Lady’s Magazine for 1785, giving an account of the origin of the ballad of Befsy Bell and Mary Gray ; which as it is by no means authenticated and is contradicted by other accounts, could not be inserted. He embraces the same opportunity of transmitting an oration in praise of benevolence—a subject on which so much has been said dhat little new can be expected, Itis therefore better adapted to 2 ‘ R85 to correspondents. Sept. 186 private circle of young persons than for the public. The following fhort extracts are given as a specimen. “ He (the benevolent man) hears of the distrefses of others with a , secret joy; but it is the “ joy of grief.” Or to speak without a figure his heart meits for their misfortunes, while his soul is enraptured at the glorious opportunity of relieying them, and he flies with an ala- “crity not to be described to pour the balm of relief and consolation into their wounds. “It is not forthose misfortunes alone which are in his power to allevi- ate that he feels;"neither does he confime himself to one particular country, religion, or complection. He hears of the unjust imprison- ments in despotic lands; of the cruel mafsacres committed by the ambitious Rufsian upon the followers of Mahomet; of the wretched slavery of the unfortunate Africans, and gives to their misery all he can, a tear.” f To CoRRESPONDENTS. The verses by a Constant Reader are received. In attempting to disguise a hand that probably would never have been recognised by the Editor, this communication is rendered nearly illegible. It is not certain if it can be all made out. The Editor has received several very long papers on the subject of France, for which he considers himself as indebted to the writers for their kind intentions; but he would be much more obliged to them, if they would turn their thoughts to diterary subjects instead of politics, which he believes to be the most unprofitable of all studies, in the way it is usually viewed by inexperienced writers. Could young men be persuaded that government is a practical art, of which no adequate knowledge can be obtained but by a painful ascertaining of innum=ra-~ ble facts, that are exceedingly intricate to be unravelled; and that all speculative theories on that subject, tend only to bewilder the ima- gination, confound the judgement, andlead to the most dangerous errors, they would then be exceedingly fhy in offering the first thoughts that occur to them onthis head to the public. Among o- ther good effects, it would save the editor of this miscellany a great deal of trouble in reading many papers which he must have the morti- fication to be obliged to reject ; which he can afsure his readers is a very painful part of his office. Wide is the field.of science, and innu- merable the opportunities of displaying talents in the augmentation of knowledge in its various departments, were we disposed to exercise them properly. ee The Editor has also received several poems of considerable length and not des+itute of merit, written in the Scottith dialect, of which he is sorry he cannot avail himself; for unlefs it be very. short pieces,; the respect he bears for those of his readers, who cannot understand that dialect, forbids him to insert them. He will try to make some fhort extracts from these in the indew izdicatorius. 147 THE BEE, ,OR 7 LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGNCER, FOR WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 18. 1793. IVAN CZ AROWITZ, OR THE ROSE WITHOUT PRICKLES, THAT STINGS NOT; , A TALE. Weurten by HER ImperraL Mayesry. Coutinued from p. 47. Iw the way he met the Han’s daughter, who was married to the Sultan Briuzga, (harping, faultfind- ing person.) This man never laughed himself, and could not bear that an other fhould smile. The Sul- tana on the contrary was of a sprightly temper, and very agreeable. She seeing Ivan said to him; *¢ Welcome Ivan, how do you do? where are you ** going.” The Czarowitz answered ; ‘ By order of your father the Hau, I am going to seek the ‘rose without prickles, that stings not.? The Sultana Fe- litsa, (that was her name,) wondered that they fhould send a child to seek such a rarity, and taking a sin- ‘eere liking to the boy, fhe said tohim: ‘* Czarowitz VOL. XV.i. L 54 82 =the rose without prickles, a tale. Sept. 18, «* stay a little, I will go with you to seek the rose “ without prickles, that stings not, if my father will “© give me leave.” Ivan went into his kibitka to dine, for it was dinner time, and the Sultana went to the Han to afk leave to go with the Czarowitz, to seek the rose without prickles, that stingsnot. The Han did not only not give her ITeave, but strictly for- bade her to go with the child to seek the rose with- out prickles, that stings not. Felitsa having left the Han,persuaded her hufband Sultan Briuzga, to stay with her father the Han, and went herself to the Czarowitz.’. He was very happy to see her, and begged her to sit down beside him, which fhe did, and said, ‘* The Han has forbid me to go with you, *« Czarowitz, to seek the rose without prickles that “* stings not ; but I will give you good advice ; “< pray do not forget, do you hear, do not forget ‘* what I tell you.” The Czarowitz promised’ to remember. ‘* At some distance from hence, (con- ‘* tinued fhe,) as you go to seek the rose without ‘* prickles, that stings not, you will meet with peo- “ ple of very agreeable manners, who will endea- “¢ your to persuade you to go with them ; they will, “* tell you of a great many entertainments, and that ** they spend their time in innumerable pleasures; do “‘ not believe them; they lie; their pleasures are ** false, and attended with much wearinefs, After ‘* them you will see others, who will still more 1 ‘* earnestly prefs you on the same subject ; refuse i ‘¢ them with firmnefs, and they will leave you. ‘© You will then get into a wood; there you will ‘* find flatterers, who by agreeable conversation, \ 1793. the rose without prickles, a tale. 83 ‘© and every other means, will endeavour to draw you *¢ out of your proper way ; but donot forget that you “* have noching to do buat to seek one flower, a rose. ** without prickles that stings not. I love you, and ‘6 will send my son to meet you, who will help you to find the rose without prickles that stings ‘© not.” Ivan having heard the words of Felitsa, afked her; ‘ Is it so difficult to find the rose with- ‘out prickles that stirigs not?? ‘* No, answered ** the Sultana, it isnot so very difficult to an upright ‘¢ person who perseveres firmly in his intention.” Ivan afked if ever any body had found that flower? ** I have seen, said Felitsa, peasants and tradesmen, **_who have as happ:ly succeeded in this pursuit, as *¢ ‘nobles, kings, or queens.”” The Sultana having sail this, took leave of the Czarowitz. Then the Starfhina his tutor led him to seek the rose with- out prickles that stii/s not; and for this purpose Jet him out at a wicket into a large game patk. On entering the park, Ivan saw a vast number of roads.. Some were streight, some crooked, and some full of intricate windings. The child did not - ‘kiow which way to go; but on seeing a youth com» ing towards him, he made haste to meet him, and afk who he was? The youth answered, ‘¢ I am Raf- ** sudok, (judgement, ) the son of Felitsa ; my mo~ ** ther sent me to accompany you in your search “© for the rose without prickles ;that stings not.” The.Czarowitz thanked Felitsa with heart and lips, and having taken the youth by the hand, infor- med himself of the way he fhould go. ‘Rafsudok aid with a chearful and afsured lock, ‘* Fear nought $4 the rose without prickles, a tale. _ Sept. 18, ** Czarowiiz, let us go on the streight rood, where ** few walk, though it is more agreeable than the ~* others.” ¢ Why donot all kcep the streight road ?” said the Czarowitz:’ ‘* Because, replied the youth, “* they lose themselves, and get bewildered in the o- thers.” In going along, the youth fhowed Ivan a very beautiful little path, and said, ‘* Look Czarowitz, ‘¢ this is called the path of the nonage of well dis- ‘* posed souls. It is very pretty, but very fhort.” They pursued their way through a wood into an agreeable plain, through which rana rivulet of clear water. On the banks they saw troops of young people. Some were sitting on the grafs, and others were lying under the trees. As soonas they saw the Cz:rowitz, they got up and came to him. One of them with. great politenefs and insinuation of, manner addrefsed him, ‘‘ Give me leave, said he, | “to afk you, Sir, where you are going? Did you «¢ come here by chance ? Can we have the pleasure ** of serving youin any thing? Your appearance ‘s fills us with respect and friendfhip; and we are ra- ‘¢ yifhed with the number of your brilliant accom- -¢* plifhments.” The Czarowitz recollecting the words of Felitsa, replied, ‘I have not the honour ‘ co know you, and you also are unacquainted with ‘me; I therefore attribute your, compliments to * your politenefs, and not to my own merits: J am * going to seek the rose without prickles, that stings ‘ not.? Another of the company joined the © con- verSation, and said, ‘‘ Your intention is a proof of ‘¢ your talents ; but oblige us so far as to favour us ‘with , ur company a few days, and to take a 1793. the rose without prickles, a tale. 85 _ # fhare in the inimitable pleasures which we enjoy.” Ivan told them that he was restricted to a time, and that he could not delay lest he fhould incur the Han’s displeasure. They endeavoured to persuade him that rest was necefsary for his health, and that _ he could not find a place for this purpose more con- venient, nor people more inclined to serve him. — It is impofsible to conceive how they begged and per- suaded him. At length the men and women took each other by the hand, and formed a ring about Ivan and his conductor, and began to leap and dance, and hinder them from going further; but while they were whitling themselves about, Rafsudok snatch- ed Ivan under his arm, and ran out of the ring with such speed, that the dancers could not catch hold of them. Having proceeded farther, they came to Lentyag Murza (the sluggard chiet, ) the chief governor of the place, who was taking a walk with his houfhold. He received ]van and his conductor very civilly, and afked them into his lodging. As they were alittle tir- ed they went in with him. He desired them tositdown on the divan ; and laid himself down by them on down pillows covered with old fafhioned cloth of gold. His domestic triends sat down round the walls of thecham- ber. Lentyag Murza then ordered pipes, tobacco, and coilee to be served. Having understood that they did not smoke nor drink coffee, he ordered the carpets to be sprinkled with perfumes, and afked lvanthe reason of his excursion into the game park. The Czaro- Witz answered, that by order of the Han he was in quest of the rose w:thout prickles that stings not. se a . $6 the rose without prickles, a tale. Sept 8. Lentyag Murza was amazed that he could undertake such an arduous attempt at so, early an age. Ad- drefsing himself to Ivan, ‘* Older than you, said he, ‘are scarce equal to such a businefs ; rest a little; *« dont nroceed farther; I have many people here, ‘© who have endeavoured to find out this flower, but ‘¢ have all got tired and have deserted the pursuit.” One of them that were present then got up and said: «© T ‘myself more than once tried to find it; but I “tired of it, and instead of it, 1 have found my ** benefactor Leeityag Murza who supplies me with ** meat and drink.” In the midst of this conversa- tion Leentyag Murza’s head sunk into a pillow and he fell esleep. As soon as those that were seated about the walls of the room, heard that Leentyag Murza began to snore, they got up softly. Some of them went to drefs themselves, some to sleep; some took to idle conversation, and some to cards and dice. During these employments some flew in- to a pafsion, others were well pleased ; and upon the faces of all were marked the various situations of their souls. When Leentyag Murza awoke, they again ga- thered around him, and a table covered with fruit was brought into the reoom. Lentyag Murza remaitied among his pillows, and from thence afked the Czaro- witz, who very earnestly obseryed all that pafsed, to eat. Ivan was just going to taste what was offer- ed by Lentyag Murza, when his conductor pulled him gently by the sleeve, and a bunch of fine grapes which he had laid hold of, fell out of his hand and was scattered upon the pavement. Recollecting him- 1393- ox the value and uses of the larch tree. 87 » self immediately he got up, and they left Loentyag Murza. * * To be continued. ON THE VALUE AND USES OF THE LARCH TREE. Continued from p. 16. Hop poles. : Hop poles are only wanted in certain districts; but. - where they are wanted, it is a matter of very se- rious concern to be able to obtain them at a small expence; nor can any wood be named that can be put into competition with larch wood for hop poles.. From the accidental experiment by Mr Dempster, it appears that no wood ean be half so durable. It seems to me probable, that a set of larch poles would outlast three or four sets at least - of afh poles; and. as larch can be reared every where so as to admit of their being had at every . place where they can be wanted, free of expence of carriage, (which cannot be tHe case with ath poles,) they could probably be afforded in all cases at lefs than half the original cost of ath poles, and in many cases at lefs than one) fourth of © that cost. The saving on this article, therefore, in these circumstances is obvious. * This description of Loentyag Murza accordsso much with the manners of some of the Rufsian nobility that it is allowable to suppose her majesty took the picture from some one of them, 88 on the value and uses of the larch tree. Sept. tté \ Shafts for carts. * Carts consisting only of a pair of fhafts joined firmly together to support the load, and connected with the wheels, are wanted for the transporting of many kinds of goods. In these carriages, strength, durability, lightnefs, and cheapnefs, are the requisites chiefly wifhed for ; and for these purposes, no kind of wood yet known equals the larix. At present such carts ate much in use about Leith, and over all Scotland, for transporting grain, stones, metals, cafks, and merchant goods of all sorts, and a vari- ety of country uses. No material has yet been found that answers the purpose so well as small spars of Norway fir; but this, though light and cheap, is neither strong nor durable. Larch wood is now coming forward in great a- bundance in every part of Scotland; but being as yet young, and the tree beautiful, and the quality of the wood little known or adverted to, few persons. can think of cutting any of them down. It happened, however, some years ago, that the lord chief baron of the exchequer for Scotland had occasion to cut out some young larches that stood in the course of a road he wa smaking for a drive through his plantations.’ These trees were beautiful ; and being of a proper size for the purpose, he ordered two of them to be made into fhafts for a cart. Their superior excellency above all others was soon perceived ; and the people in that neighbourhood are now ready to purchase larch trees of a proper size for that use at a very advan- ced price. So :t will be with regard to all the ars — 2793- on the value and uses of the larch tree. 89 ticles above enumerated as soon as their real value fhall be experimentally ascertained. Small wood for country houses. It is of much importance for the proprietors of land in every remote and unimproved part of the country, to be particularly attentive to supply the wants of the poorer clafses of the people; for what- ever renders their situation more comfortable, tends to attach them to their native spot,—to incourage their industry,—to awaken hope, and add energy to all their exertions; which are the only sure means of promoting improvements on his estate, and thus adding to the value of his property. Let no one therefore despise as trivial, any cir- cumstance which tends to ameliorate the sitna- tion of this humble but very useful clafs of pzople. The want of proper wood, at a cheap rate, for making comfortable huts for the poor, is an incon- venience severely felt in many parts of Britain. This has been in part remedied in many places in Scotland already, by the numerous plantations of firs which have been there made within the last twenty or thirty years; and the proprietors of these estates, begin already to feel the good effects of it. Larch spires pofsefs every valuable propetty of fir; but by being greatly more durable, and much lefs apt tocatch fire than fir wood, they would of course be proportionably more useful for these pur- poses. VOL, xvii. M t 99 on the value and uses of the larch tree. Sept. 18. Hay rakes This is an article of universal consiitpalie and the demand for them must be for ever increasing. At present it is only in a few places that wood for making these can be reared ; and even where the wood is the best and cheapest, the expence of mak- ing rakes of ath or willow, is much greaterjthan they could be done for of larch ; and they are also much more perifhable : and as larch wood can be had eves ry where, the charge of the carriage of rakes from one part of the country to another, which is often considerable, and greatly enhances the pace of that article, might be entirely saved. Larch wood is as light and as tough as the best willow, and infinitely lefs apt to split; for that rea- son it would be much better for the head of the rake than willow: and ath is too weighty, or if made of crop wood, greatly too brittle for the purpose here wanted. Larix too if planted close together grows pefect- Fy streight and smooth in the bark, having only small branches that could be easily fhaved off. If it Were planted properly, and duly cared for, in a good soil and situation, the trees would attain the pros per size for hay rakes in from six to eight years from the time of planting. Were the thick end cut off for the head of the rake, the remainder would Ge fit for the handle; the small point being cut off for light railing and other purposes to be after men- tioned. Such spires could be afforded at a very small price ; and the time expended in making the rakes would not perhaps be one half of what is necefsary at (2793- - on the value and uses of the larch tree. 9t present. 1 will not attempt to state the saving on } this article ; nor to estimate the difference that would arise from the superior durability of these rakes : but when it is adverted to that the larix scarcely — fhrinks at all after it has been once dry, and that hay rakes at present are often rendered uselefs in 2 very few days, merely because of the fhrinking of the wood, the saving here must -be obviously very great. : Sneads or handles for sythes. The same peculiarities that render larix good for hay rakes, point it out as the most proper of all sub- stances for sneads or fhafts for sythes. From the na- ture of the growth of this tree, it becomes suscep- tible of one advantage for this purpose that no o- ther wood pofsefses. By a very little attention it might be easy to select such spires as had branches springing out from the stem, at the places where the fhort handles are required, and in the position that is necefsary for that purpose: this would save 2 considerable expence of iron work in mounting the sythe. ‘The branches of the larch often spring from the stem nearly at right angles. The only thing that would be wanted to render these perfect, would be to make these branches thick enough, by fixing u~ pon these snags a piece of turned wood, as is done for the handles of hedge fheers, to be grasped in the hand of the mower, What gave me the first idea of this improvement was, the seeing some sneads that had been,made of a piece of fir lath plained, in which was stuck into two neat mortoises made in the snead for that purpose, two fhort handles of t 92 on the value and uses of the larch tree. Scpt. 18. fir also; but it is evident that the natural branches would be firmer and sehaget for that purpose that the others. Small railing, cages for poultry, ben coops, &c. The small points cut off from the spires in mak- ing hay rakes &c. need not be lost. These, if cut to an equal length, between three and four feet, and stuck into the ground at regular distances, having their points received above into a sawed lath of thé same wood, pierced with holes of a proper size for receiving them, would make a neat and ‘cheap small railing, which would be found extremely convenient on innumerable occasions. Or, they might be easily worked on the same plan, into cages for poultry, or into the spars of hen coops, which would be neat, cheap, and durable. Under-draining damp ground The small twigs and lefser branches, would also, on account of their incorruptibility, furnifh the best material that ever yet has been discovered, for fil- ling up.open drains in damp grounds ; and thus would prove an effectual means of promoting one of the greatest improvements that ever can take place i in many parts of Britain. At present there are innumerable extensive tracts of damp weeping clays, which are in a great measure uselefs to the farmer because of the difficulty of finding cheap materials for filling opendrains; and which, ifsufficiently drained, would be at once rendered of mere than four times their present value. Other kinds of brufh wood, even where these can be had, are of such a perifhable na- ture, as to answer this purpose very imperfectly. 1793. on the value and uses of the larch tree. 93 Even where stones can be had for this use, which is only in few places, these do it in an imperfect man- net; and are extremely expensive: and whete these materials are wanting, and strong heath cannot be had, which next to the larch is the most incorruptible of ali our woody plants, the draining of such lands is intirely impracticable. But in every situation in Britain, the larix could be reared with ease ; so that in a very few years, the branches of it could be had in plenty for the important purpose now under consideration. This will appear a trifling matter to some; but to those who have well considered the subject, it will be deemed an object of great nation- al importance. Draining peat mofses and extensive bogs. Larch bruh would be peculiarly convenient for the purpose here enumerated, because, on account of the softnefs of the ground, no wezghty material can be brought upon it. From this circumstance no better expedient has been yet devised tor closing these drains than that of setting the dried sod of the surface in the bottom, so as to leave a kind of trian- gular opening. This answers the purpose for a hort time ; but as it soon closes, this must be consi- dered as a very impericct expedient. Even heath where it could be had, would be Jefs proper here than in firmer fields; as the drains must often, on account of the softnefs of the ground, be made of too great a width for that kind of material. Larch bruth therefore is the best, and indeed the on- ly known substance that can be economically applied fer this purpose on a éarge scale. ¢ 94 on the value and uses of the larch tree. Sept. 18, | Making roads in swampy ground. From the same peculiarity in the larch that we have so often had occasion to notice, the branches and brufh wood will supply an object that has been a great desideratum in many places, a sure founda- tio’ for a firm road through bogs, mofses, and swampy grcunds. Heath is almost the only mate- rial we have yet discovered in Scotland for: this purpose; but on account of its small size, it is by no means so proper for that use as could be withed; and were it even better than it is, there are many situations in which heath cannot be had. But there are none where larch brufh could not in a fhort time be obtained; so that by means of this valuable af- sistant, roads may be opened through many parts of Britain, that have hitherto been thought impaf- sable. To make a road in such cases, after making a ditch on each side of as great a depth and width as can be conveniently made, and. with the materials, such as they are, raising it somewhat above the ordinary level, the whole fhould be covered with a thick bed of larch branches laid lengthwise acrofs the road ; and then firm materials, of sufficient thicknefs, laid above it. Nothing can make a better road than this ; and few roads would be more durable. Fire wood. ,. ; It may seem surprising that I fhould here men- tion larch as proper for fire wood, after having said that it is scarcely combustible. Experience however has discovered that this seeming incongruity may be reconciled. Larch wood, in large solid pieces, can scarcely be made to burn; but the small twigs and brufh may be consumed. These twigs, howe- | 1793. on the value and uses of the larch tree. 95. ver, burn much more slowly than the brufh wood of © other trees ; which by getting up into a blaze, are. suddenly consumed, and require a continual feeding and great attention to get a fire of a moderate equa- bility of heat. For this reason bru/b wood is en- tirely rejected for firing, wherever billets can be ob- tained at a moderate expence ; but larch bruh burns more slowly, and affords a heat nearly as equable as billets of other wood. It is only of late, and in a very few places in Scotland, that the people have had an op- portunity of remarking this peculiarity of the larch ; and though this use of it would not have readily oc- curred as obvious to a speculative inquirer, it was very soon discovered im practice, by the few trials that were made of it. It has, been found to be so s . - . . much more valuable for this use ina district south of the Tweed in Scotland, where coal is at a great dis- tance, and fuel of course scarce, that the people are ready to buy it at a much higher price than bruth of any other kind. This circumstance has induced a geutleman of eminence in the literary line, to aban- don the planting of firs almost entirey, which he be- gan with chiefly for firewood, and to substitute larch in their stead. All the uses of the larix above mentioned ar, intended to fhow what benefits may be derived from a plantation of larch trees, at a very early period of their growth ; and to demonstrate that under judi- cious management, a man may, even within the fhort space of five or six years from the time of planting, in many situations, begin to draw profit from these plantations ; but when the wood is allowed to ate tain mature age and perfection, there are still other 96 on delays in the court of Sefsion. — Sept. r&. and pethaps more important uses to which it may be then applied, of which the following is a brief e+ numeration of such as occur to me at the presents To be continued. ON THE DELAYS iNCIDENT TO THE COURT OF SEssIon. Continued from p. 60. To the Lord President of the Court of Sefsion. ; LETTER III. My Lorp, Tue waste of time in a law suit is like the squan- dering of money : It is continual and irreparable. A month’s time is allowed to a party to make his ap- pearance in court. A fortnight more is consumed by the outgiving and enrollment. And efter the pleading of the cause, the lord ordinary,seldom de- cides even the relevancy, but generally appoints a condescenience, either of the facts that the pursuer undertakes to prove in support of his action, or of those the defender fotinds upon in his defence, Ten days are commonly allotted for this purpose ; but they extend to a fortnight, before the cause appears in the roll. Another fortnight elapses in the making of answers ; and the like space is e- qually necefsary both for replies and duplies: nor can lefs than a fortnight well be allowed to the ‘lord ordinary for advising the whole of these papers, Thus a period of three or four months is consu- med before the first interlocutor is pronounced. In other words, a whole winter sefston 13 necefsary £793. on. delays in the court of séfsion. 97 for bringing the ‘partics to joim-ifsye in the cause, even though neither party fhould occasion undue delay. . But the fact is, that the tardy party’ in place ae% a fortnight, will often take six weeks or two months at a time, to give in‘his paper ; and wiil procure Te~ peated delays, under various pretences, in spite of continued inrollments. Even the party whose interest it is to expedite, _ will often delay his own cause, froin the prefsure of other busicefs ; or from indolence, or the difficulty _ of procuring or arranging that sort of evidence which he wifhes to. found upon. And when a cause grows bulky from Tength of time and length .of writing, it becomes burden- some to the judge also, who cannot but feel a re- luctance against sitting down to consider a variety of long and perplexing papers ; and to unravel the facts, and turn up and apply the law to them. _If this be the case at the commencement of the action, and before an interlocutor allowing a proof or appoint- ing a production; what must happen when a cause grows tiresome upon all hands, by being brought un- der review again and again and again; and that too either when one question is started after another, and followed out with the same lengthened and per- severing obstinacy ; or, when the whole points that can be brought forward are blended together, so as, to make the cause more burdensome, and to increase the confusion ; and render the case still the more jnextricable. VOL, xvil, N y 98 wild horses in Siberia. Sept. 18, It is in vain to think that the vigilance of an ore dinary, will ever be sufficient to remove such com- plicated causes of delay. Besides that anartful party is often able to influence the pafsions and prejudices of the judge in the way of creating confusion, for — the purpose of procuring time, or misleading the judgement. . Nothing fhort of necefsity will ever compel parties to forgo every attempt of that kind, and prevent the judge from indulging them in any des gree. Indeed the beauty and excellency of forms is, not only to constrain the parties, but also to fet- ter the judge himself, without influencing his opi- nion ; and so to free him as it were from the weak- — nefses, and errors of human nature. But how that can be accomplifhed.in the present case, is a matter that must probably be left to your lerdfhip’s own conside- ration. I fhall however submit what occurs to me upon the subject in a future letter, and I remain &e. LENTULUs. Se NOTICES OF THE WiLD HORSES IN SIBERIA, We can have no idea of the natural faculties of animals which we have been accustomed to see only in a domestic state ; for there, depending upon man for a liberal supply to all their wants, they have no occasion to exercise their natural talents ; and thesq appear to be entirely obliterated. 1793> wild horses in Siberia, 99 These reflection: are occasioned by a communicati- on of a correspondent from the province of in the southern parts of Siberia. He saysthereis nothing . in that province which he thinks will be so acceptable to the people of Britain as the history of the wild horse, a noble animal that is found in the extensive plains of Southern Siberia, in considerable numbers. He warns me that m~ readers may suspect he ex- aggerates here: but he afsures me he does not ; and says if he does he can be corrected by some persons now living in Britain, who know the facts as well as him. The wild horse, he says, though a gregarious animal, does not go in promiscuous flocks like cattle or fheep; but each male chooses for himself a certain number of females, with whom alone he afsociates during the whole year, beating off every other male which of. fers to approach them. The strongest of course has the best haram ; and the weaker are obliged to go without any : But when he has once fixed himself, he defends his own property, never attempting to incroach on that of another. The battles that are fought for the females at the beginning of the sea- - son ate furious, and often prove fatal to one of the parties; but when the victory is once decided, the weakest never afterwards that season disputes for superiority. The horse, when he has once obtained his females, governs them with despoti¢ authority. Whenever he calls upon them they must obey, otherways they are ‘punilhed severely; and the mares are so sensible, 1c0 wild horses in Siberia. —Septs 18 of this, that they discover every symptom of the most perfect obedience to their lord and master. His government however is founded on love; and his authority is exercised, rather for the protection of his subjects, than their injury. The great enemy they have there to dread is the wolf ; and if the horse did not take care to keep them close together, so as to receive the benefit of his protection, they would be soon exterminated. It is the foals only that the wolf ever attacks ; and against his attacks they are much upon their guard. When they see any appearance of danger, the horse gives the call ; aad they all instantly gallop up to him. ~The foals are then put all together; and the mares laying their heads together above ‘the foals, form a circle all round with their heels outward, ready to strike their enemy if he approaches. The horse in the mean time remains without the circle to be ready to attack wherever the danger fhall be greatest. One wolf dares never make the attack by himself. When» they come up, the horse. gallops round his family, trampling to death every one he can reach, or tearing them with his teeth; and so strong is his bite whea thus enraged, that they frequently have been known, with a single gnabh of their teeth, to break the back of a wolf and kill him entirely. It seldom happens that the wolves prevail inthis contest; and they so much dread the power of this noble ani- imal, that they seldom «make the attack unlefs. when hey are much piached for hunger. This breed of horses, though nimble and active, not of a very large size. The hunting of these -4993- . crofsing different breeds of fheep. 10% horses, which is only attempted by the natives for catching them alive, especially the young ones, is at~ tended with difficulty and danger ; and must not be attempted without due precautions. EFFECT OF CROSSING DIFFERENT BREEDS OF SHEEP. SIR, To the Editor of the Bee. T sewn you enclosed a sample of wool, which I have just now clipped from a ewe fheep, which was one year old last April, bred of ajewe I bought of Mr John M‘Donanald of Burrodale near Fort William, and got by a tup of the Leicesterfhire breed. The ewe was a little narrow bécked creature with horns,—her face and legs black, not above eight pounds a quarter when fat, and cost me only 7s. Her fleece which did not weigh above two pounds, was mostly hair of 2 brown or grey colour, not worth above 4d. a pound. She had two of these lambs at a birth, and as fhe could not make them fat, I kept them to try what improve- ment the crofs with a Leicesterfhire tup would make; ‘and indeed it has exceeded my most sanguine. ex- pectation.,. As to their wool you can judge of it by the sample; and their form I think very good. They havea streight flatback,—are without horns,——mottled faces and legs, and seem very hardy and much in- clined to feed. They being almost fit for the butch- er now, although they have had but poor keeping. When thoroughly fat, they will weigh fifteen oc sixteen pounds a quarter. If you think, Mr Editor, the above information will be of any service, either to the members of the > f02 reading memorandums. Sept. 18, society instituted for the improvemeut of Britith wool in Scotland, or to the stock farmers, you are at liberty to make what use you think proper of it. Yours, t&. Ancroft, near Berwick Joun Nisbet. upon Tweed, Sept. 7. 1793- : P. S. They are in my pofsefsion, and may be seen by any person that will call upon me.- IN ** Along with this letter was sent a specimen of ve- ry pretty wool, perfectly free from hairs of any sort, and fine and soft. The points of it had a slight brown- ifh tinge, probably contracted from the soil on which it had been pastured ; for the roots of the wool were of a very fine white. The specimen will be kept at the Bee office for the sake of any person who may with to see it. This is one strong in- stance of the benefits that may accrue from judici- ously crofsing different breeds. Edit. READING MEMORANDUMS. Notutne can support the soul in all its distrefse® but a confidence in-the Supreme Being; nor can a steady and effectual magnanimity flow from any other source, nor this confidence be otherwise ac- quired than by prayer and meditation, and acting from a conscientionsnefs of the divine favour £793: character of profe/sor G. Stuart. 103 DE VIRO CLARO ATQUE ERUDITO GEORGIO STUART, L.L.D. ZITERARUM HUMANIORUM IN ACADEMIA EDINENSI PROFESSORE, NUPER DEFUNCTO. Doleant Muse! Corruit inge:s columna lingue Latine ; Occidit vir magnus in republic literarum : Quo quis flebilior? seu consilum respicias, Sive scientiam, sive amicitiam, Sive leporis atque facetias, Sive animum liberum atque rectum. Multa multis benefecit, preecipue juventuti Studiose atque egene ; quorum multos Gratuitd erudivit, atque ad vite conditionem Haud poenitendam evexit. Mores hominum acriter inspexit, Et feliciter depinxit. ' Quid magis elegans, quid veritati magis consentaneum, Quam quas exprimere solebat imagines virorum claroram 3} Quis auctores Latinos animosius digniusve explicavit ? Quis antiquitates Romanas clarius illustravit ? Quis elegantias felicius elicuit, Aut difficultates discufsit ? Opus contexuit magni laboris atque pretii, Supplementum scilicet atque additamentum Thesauri viri clarifsimi Roberti: Ainsworth, uod, summo cum literarum detrimento, Cautione et timiditate bibliepolarum, eheu! est interiturum. Modicas industria atque curd comparavit opes ; Quibus in villa sua prope Muiselburguim, Viginti fere annos, nec turpem nec injucundam transegit Senectutem. Novem supestuit liberis; in eis filie, Insigni literarum ornamento : Nec non amantifsimz usxori, uicum annos LI conjunctiisime vixerat. Decefsit tandem decimo quarto kalendas Julias, MDCCXCIII; ? ; Anno etatis sue octogesimo, ‘ Omnes aniri dotes integerrime retinens, Magnumque sui desideriuim apud omnes suas Relinquens. 2 fo4 tndex indicatorius. Sept. 18, Imwpex INDICATORIUs. % r TZ. S. sends a poem in Scottifh verse which is intended to fhow that there is nothing incongruous in the measure there adopted for serious disquisitions. It is greatly too long for this miscellany, besides - being more of a metaphysical cast than is suitable to its plan; a few of the stanzas are selected as a specimen of it. Kind night has gi’en the eard a soakin’, The sun will soon set her a-smokia’, On Arthurs seat the fkies are rokin’ Like Sauney’s bonnet, What wad ye think my muse but [without] jokin’ To croon a sonnet ? Aurora wi’ a silent pace But quick, climbs up the east fie’ s face, \While heavy, I the windings trace To this hill head ; But perseverance maun take place O’ wings an’ speed, Sae wi’ a’ good that men attempt : Nae wise pursuits frae toil exempt: But Pll no halt tho’ limbs fhould cramp, Till on the crown, Its fools an sluggards ease can tempt Short to sit down, ° ‘ Aw now that I hae reach’d your height Sweet hill! nae thing presents my sight, P the country round, if I mind right, That’s no been sung ; Cumming * has round ye wing’d his flight Nor can be dung. , Auld Reekie’s bard + ah! o’er soon set, Has sung the Firth o’ Forth sae neat ; Its warse than mad to imitate Sic matchlefs strains 5 We fhort syne tried to crown the fleet ue )Ah ! what remains? To heav’n my muse! then turn your eie. ‘There Phebus verges frae the-sea. Sf he comes wast, or east row we It makes no which? Good e’en says he ta land o” tea An’ India rich. * Author of a poctical description of Edinburgh. + Ferguson. ios index indcatorius.’ Poor Scotia too maun hae her flare, For sic is his paternal care ‘ ‘Wha governs here an’ every where, Nor aught misguides, Frae meanest worm, to that erand sphere grand sphere That time divides. TO% The bard then entering into a metaphysical disquisition about the lowest stages of organization, he proceeds, To ca’ this life, I wad be faith ; An’ yet it’s plain it is no death: Petreficates, concretions baith, Claim some relation Unto, and seem not far beneath Weak vegetation. This namelefs something, some degrees Short of kind lite, call’t sympathies, Attractions or antipathies, P Or gravitation, Its God’s word living (if ye please,) Through a’ creation. This is the first fhort stage frae death : Next’s vegetation, fhort 0’ breath : Far fhort of reason, they fa’ baith. Man has them a* In ae life which brings him aneath A meral law. Sae as we rise, still death above, We rise in wisdom, pow’t, and love : For that’s our life. As on these move, We nearer draw >. Perfection’s mark: T’were vain to prove This is the lav. The poet proceeds to give many good moral advices, and religious opinions, which our limits prevent us from specifying. with the following stanza. Adiew, my scrap o’ rough Scots rhyme, I dare nia say that ye’re sublime, Or that ye hae sae well kept time As L intendit, But wha thinks droll’ry is your crime, May try to mend it. yoL. XVil. ° He concludes 106 tadex indicatorius. Sept. 18. Another poem written in'a more elevated strain, has been transmite ed by a correspondent to whom the readersof the Bee have been in- debted for many valuable articles, requesting that, as the performance of a promising young man, it may be inserted in the Bee; so that it is with great reluctance the Editor finds himself obliged to decline it ; both on account of the subject, on which he wifhes not to en= large, and its great length which éxceeds the limits appropriated to poetical exercises. He‘cannot however omit the ‘following excerpts as a small specimen of the work. It is entitled Modern France After having taken a very extensive survey of the present state of France; and in glowing colours depicted many: scenes with which the public have. been distrefsed for a great while past, he addrefses himself to the present rulers thus, ; Yet think not, ye who ride upon the wings Of mobifh praise, and tread the thrones of kings, Your daring souls fhall long their flights And still‘enjoy the honours they. adore. Short.is the favour of the fickle crowd ; Often it changes as an April cloud. Now high in air see guilty Marar rise ; Now pierc’d by female hands the caitif dies : Fayette already in the dungeon’s gloom, Laments his sad reverse and early tomb; Whilst fam’d DumourreR wanders o’er the world, Despis’d, unnotic’d, as a bubble hurl'd. And he who grasp’d at boundle{s sway, Custing, Dragg’d unlamented to the guillotine ; Brissot degraded : Manure stab’d by those Of his own city, where he sought repose: ConporcekT whoere while the Senate sway’d Wanders like Cain, of ev’ry one atraid : {Payne in a quarry hides his trembling head * ; And blood stain’d ORLEANs soon himself must bleed ; Marer and SiMONVILLE in prison sav’d, And BournonviLte, by those they oft had brav’d, Fierce Danton, tho’ the fav'rite of the hour, Arm’d with unbounded dictatorial pow’r, May fret his day upon the murd'rous stage, But fall he must beneath the people's rage ; Unlefs, perchance, the people he enslave, For nought but slavery can the tyrant save. * The whole city of Paris is built above an inimense excavation formed by digging #tones for ages past ; in these Payne it is “aia now conceals himself. ; ‘ 2493.» index indicatorius. ro» ' Deluded people! who prefer the rule Of perjured traitors, of the knave and fool! What tho’ their heads encircles not a crown? Their brows still wear the caitifs sullen frown. And tho’ a monarch’s name not grates the ear, From blood stained tyrants.you have more to fear, Who all from base subjection rais d to pow’r Brandifh the scourge, and every good devour. . These lines are spirited ; but whether just or not the reader is left to decide. At any rate the above it is hoped will be deemed enough on this subject. : ’ ‘ One who stiles himself a Hermit, sent long ago the following lines, with several others of the same stamp, which, not having had leisure to continue our index indtcatorius at the time, were laid aside; they now come in their turn to afford some amusement in this hurlo thrume- bo collection of scraps. “ The hermits consolitary reflection to the poorer clafs of his brethren of mankind on his accidentally seeing in q news paper a descrip- tion of the female drefses on a late occasion.” Wanity of vanities sayeth the preacher, Than him, was never a better teacher. Another mentions sepulchres tho’ painted, As with corruption inward strongly tainted ;, And a good bard of old talking of female drefs, | We all well know thus did himself exprefs, _ * In days of old when Kenneth ruled the nation, ‘ “* When trews and Highland plaids were much in fafhion, ** Maids did not fence their breasts with bones of whales, ** But even as nature taught they wore their taiis, * The scope of all love tales and am’rous charms, “Isto have Meg claspt naked in our arms.” Thus naked Meg as far these toys exceeds, As pure devotion heaps of uselefs beads ; ‘Which must just comfort yield to th’ honest poor, ; Those guidy trappings who cannot procure, The more that of this gem, they’re always sure. One day a cock perhaps these toys to scorn, In place of one pick’d up a barley corn ; Which clearly fhows that what best nature suits, Is known by instinct to the very brutes. Tinmedintely tvvadded the folowing addrefs to the Editor of she Bees ¢ 7 208 the Indian cottage, a tale. Sept, vB. ' The comic and pathetic here you find, yey Which never’fail to influence the minds And tho’ on different subjects hints you see, Allow me yet one thought upon the Bee. Its not suppos’d the Bee can food extract From ev’ry fhrub and herb her view may attract; . And tho’ the gardner plants for her profuse, She’s the best judge of what is fit to choose ; t And some as uselefs surely must refuse. By this is meant, that what’s above inclos’d The Bee will use as fhe fhall be dispos’d: Ox if the whole fhe chooses to reject, The hermit is dispos’d not to reflect. As nothing here he hopés is said amifs, Allow him only farther to say this: If the is pleased to admit his song, He’ll give her hints quite fhort as it is long. But if refus’d, and mov’d the hermit’s moan, He'll swear the Bee’s turn’d to a perfect drone; Or tho’ that he fhould never better thrive Drives him unwilling to some other hive. Not you to tire with any further chat, The subject far exceeds the lady’s cat. The one pathetic, and the other comic, The long deserves as well’s the fhort laconic. In thort4s-to the rest he’s quite indifferent ; She’ll do with them as seemeth most convenient « ‘To read and burn or put in at her pleasure Now or at any time when most at leisure. Several other pieces of the same stamp have been received which “are omitted. THE INDIAN COTTAGE A TALE. Continued from p.79 Ir was in the invirons of Delhi that I made these reflections. They emboldened me so much, that I entered that city in the eve- re by the gate of Lahore. I first hurried through a long solitary et, formed to the right and left, by houses, with terraces in front, seemed by arches, under which are the fhops of various kinds oF * merchandise At due distances, | met with gteat caravanseras strongly bolted, and vast bazarsy or market places, where the most profound silence reigned. Approaching the interior parts of the ci- 3993. the Indian cottage, a tale. : 199) ty, Icrofsed the magnificent quarter of the Omrahs, situated along the river Gemma, full of palaces and gardens. There every thing resounded with the musical instruments and songs of the bayaderes, who were ‘dancing by the light of flambeaux on the banks of the river. I presented myself at the gate of one of the gardens in order to enjoy so aggrceable a sight; but I was pufhed back by slaves, who, with the blows of their batons, kept off such wretches as me. Removing from the quarter of the great, I pafsed several pagodas, where a great number of unfortunate creatures, prostrate on the ground, were abandoning themselves tosorrew. Smade haste to fhun the» Sight of these monuments of superstition and of fear. Farther on, the piercing cries of mollahs, proclaiming to the fkies the watches of the night, apprised me that I was at the foot of the minarets of a mosque. » Near by were the factories of the Europeans, with their pavillions and - their watchmen, crying incefsantly, kaber dar! take care of yourselves. I next went along the side of a great building, that I knew to be 2 prison, from the clanking of chains, and the groans of the prisoners. Soon after I heard thricks of pain that proceeded from a vast hospital, out of which came at the same time carts loaded with dead corpses. Travelling along, Imet rabbers and house-breakers flying along the streets, and patroles of the watch running after them; groups of beggars who, in spite of the blows of the rattan, were begging at the gates of the palaces of the great, some of the off-falls and- remains of their feasts; and every where those unhappy females who are public siguiltones order to procure the means of subsistance. .In (hort, after a long walk in the same street, I arrived at an immense square which surrounds the fortrefs inhabited by the great Mogul. This square was | filled with the tents of the rajahs or nabobs of his guard, and their regiments, distinguifhed from each other by flambeaux, colours, and }ong canes adorned with cow tails of the kingdom of Thibet. A large trench filled. with water, and fenced with artillery, as well as the square, ran quite round the fortrefs. By the light of the fire belonging to the guard I considered the towers of this castle, which rose to the clouds and the extent of the ramparts, the length of which was lost inthe horizon. I fhould have wifhed much to enter it ; but some great.» “korahs or whips hung upon posts removed every desire of setting my foot in it. I therefore stopped at one of its extremeties, near some black slaves, who Permitted me to rest myself beside the fire round whieh they were ‘seated. Thence I considered the imperial palace ; ° and said to myself, is this then the abode of the happiest of the Cc) a the Indian cottage, a tale. Sept. 18. sons ot men ? Is it to obtain his favour that so many priests of diffe- Tent religions preach obedieitce to him; for his glory that so many ’ ambafsadors arrive; for his treasures rise sO many provinces are, ex- hausted ; for his pleasure that so many caravans travel; and for his security that so many armed men watch in silence during the night ? * While I was making these reflections fhouts of j joy filled the square ; and T saw pafs eight camels adorned with splendid trappings. | learned that they were loaded with the heads of rebels which the generals of the great Mogul had sent him from the province of Decan, where one of his sons, whom he had made. governor of it, had been ~ carrying on a War against him for three yeafs. A little after arrived, at full speed, a courier niounted on a dromedary. He came with the: néws of the lofs of a city on the frontiers of India, by the treason of its governor delivered up to the king of Persia. Scarcely was this cou- rier past when another, sent by the governor of Bengal, came in with the news, that some Europeans, to whom, (for tha benefit of trade,) - the emperor had granted leave to establifh a factory at the mouth of the Ganges, had there built a fort, and had made themselves masters ofthe navigation of that river. Some moments after the arrival of these two couriers, there came out of the castle an officer at the head of a detachment of the guards. He had the Mogul’s ovder to go in- to the quarter of the omrahs, and to bring three of the chief of them, loaded with chains, accused of holding intelligence with the enemies ofthe states The evening before he had caused to be arrested a mollah who in one of his sermons had spoken favourably of the king of Per- sia, and had plainly said that the emperor was an infidel, because, con- trary to the law of Mahomet, he drank wine. In fhort it was affirm, ed that he had caused to be strangled, and cast into the Gemma, one of his wives and two captains of the guards, convicted of having been concerned in the rebellion of his son. While I was reflecting on these tragical events, a long column of fire burst suddenly from the kitchens of the seraglio; its volumes of smoke mixed with the clouds, and its yed light thone bright upon the towers of the fortrefs, its trenches, the duare, the minarets of the city, and extended as far as the horizon. Immediately the great kettle drums, the karnas or great hautbois of the guard, sounded the alarm with a terrible noise ; squadrons of ca= valry spread in the city, forcing the doors of the ake. near the castle / and compelling with heavy lafhes of korahs, their inhabitants to rug to afsist in extinguifhing the fire. I experienced myself too, how .2793- the Indian cottage, a tale. ATE a to the little is the neighbourhood of the great. The great are like the fire, which scorches even those who throw incense - into it, if they approach too near it. I withed to make off; but all the entrances of the square were fhut. It had been impofsible for nie to get out of i it, if ithad not been, that, by the providence of ‘God, the place where I was happened to be hard by the seraglio. As the veunuchs were carrying off the’ ladies on elephants, they facilitated -my escape; for'if the guards every where by the lafhies of their whips obliged people to come to the relief of the castle, the elephants -by the blows of their trunks, forced them to get out of their way- Thus, one while pursued by the one, and as oft pufhed back by the other, I got out of this terrible chaos; and by the bright fhining light ofthe conflagration, I gained the other extremety of the suburbs, where, in some wretched ‘hovels, far from the great, the inhabitants in peaceful repose, rested from all their toil. There I began to re- cover my breath I said to myself, “* Well then I have seen a city! T have seen the residence of the sovereign of the nations. Ah! how few sovereigns are not themselves slaves! ,Even in the time of repose they are the slaves of voluptuousnefs, ambition, superstition, and ava- ‘rice: even when asleep, they have reason to be afraid ofa crowd of wretches and rogues with which they are encompalsed ; robbers, beg- @ars, coustisans,-incendiaries, and even ‘their soldiers, their nobles, and their priests. What must acity be then during the day ? The evils to which man is subjected, increase with his enjoyments. How much 3s the emperor to be pitied then in whom they are all united! He has season to dread civil and foreign wars ; and even the mcans of his de- fence, and of his consolation, his generals, his guards, his mollahs, his wives, and his children. Tie ditches and ramparts of his fortréfs cannot defend him from the phantoms of superstition; nor can his elephants with all their trappings, keep at a distance, or drive away cares. For my partI fear nothing of thaf sort; no tyrant has any power over my body, or over my mind. I can serve God according ° to my conscience, and I have nothing to dread from any man, if I tor- ment not myself: in truth a paria is lefs miserable than an emperor. While I was speaking these words the tears rufhed into my eyes, and falling on my knees I thanked heaven, which in order to instruct me to bear misfortunes, had fhewn me distrefs more intolerable than my wn. i Ta be continued, ee aa rf2 slight notices of Toulon. Sept. 18. , SLIGHT NOTICES OF TOULON. © oe OULON is the finest naval arsenal in France ; and perhaps the’ most Boxiptete one in the universe: its fortifications towards the sea are so __ Strong, and the accefs into the harbour so narrow, and so well defen- ded by batteries of heavy cannon, as to make it be deemed-neariy im- pregnable on that side. Towards the land the fortifications, ti.0” not so formidable, ate strong, and capable of withstanding a powerful attack, But-the greatest strength of the place - consists in the nature of the ground that surrounds it ;. whichis every “where so difficult as to rén- der any approach to it acrinely hazardous. It is situated in a valley surrounded by high’ grounds on the west, north, and partly on the east; which are at such a distance as, one ex- cepted, not tocommand the town. The only accefs to this valley from the westward is by two narrow defiles, through one of which pafses the road to, Marseilles, and the other to-Aix. These defiles are com= manded by high ground strongly fortified, which may be easily defen- ded’against a much superior force. ‘ Supposing these pafses to be carried; the plain in which the ap- ptoaches to the town must be macée, is open on the south to an arm of the sea which forms what they call the outer harbour, Where the wa- ter is so deep that ships of war can lay their sides close to the fhore $ and itis commanded on the north by some strong batteries erected up- on the face of the northern hills, so that the afsailants must be flanked both onthe right and onthe left until these batteries be silenced, and the hips commanded by a superior force. Towards the east the valley is more open. ‘Throughit pafses the Yoad to Nice; and- though the ground is there in some places swam- .py and unfavourable for military approaches, yet in the year 1747 when it WaSlast besieged, this appeared to be its weakest side, on which account a strong regular fort has been erected upon an emi+ nence that commands at the same time the entrance to the towa, and éven the town itself, whose naval arsenal is within the range of its guns, and ape to them, so that till that fort be taken no.approach ean be made’to the town on that side; and as the saiety of that town depends on the pofsefsion of that fort, every device has been adopted to render itimpregnable. This is the fort AZa/gve mentioned in Lord Hood’s dipatches as being put under the command of the gallant cap- tain Elphinston. On this side too the town has the additional detence of mines, which extend to the distance of more than a mile from its walls. ERRATUM. In page 41 introduction near the bottom some words have been ac- eidentally misplaced ; it ought to be read “ Tsaritsa, the technical word denoting the Isar’s wife, as well as a female excercising roygl- ty, and Tsarevitch, &e. , ’ : | “48 oy ile a . \;

on varieties of domestic animals. 115 spect of size, q alities, appearence, natural instincts and faculties Between the largest sized mastiff dog for example, and the smallest lap dog, wien both are well fed, and at full growth, the difference is not, Ishould suppose, lefs than as ten to one of absolute weight. The hound, properly so called, pofsefses the sense of smelling in the highest perfection, so that he purfues his game invariably by the scent. The gaze bound on the other hand, is perfectly destitute of that ,* and pursues it invariably by the eye only ; whence his name. The pointer and the spaniel though both pof- sefsing the sense of smelling in great perfection, as well as the hound, are endowed with instincts very sense in regard to the discrimination of game, different ; and exercise the sense of smell each ina Way peculiar to itskind. The pointer and the thep- herd’s dog can be each taught their lefson in their own stile with equal facility ; but the one can never be brought farther than to act by a sort of mechani- cal impulse, steadily to one point, while the other can be taught to act in some measure like a reason- ing animal, who 1s authorised to vary his conduct as circumstances require ; and does so accordingly in sOme cases with a cautious discretion, that exceeds * Here a distinction takes place, somewhat analogous to what is ob~ served to take place among men, with respect to the discrimination of musical sounds. A mam may have the sense of hearing sufficiently acute, yet be totally destitute of az ear for music. The grehound too potsefes, I-believe, the sense oi smelling in some cascs sufficiently , strong, yet is not able by that means to trace his game. ; 116 on varieties of domestic animals. Sept. 25. even some of the human’ race*. Some varietics of . dogs take to the water easily, while others avoid it with much care: Some only houl like the hound, others bark almost incefsantly, as the lap dog ; others like the grehound seldom let their voice be heard ; and others, are entirely mute. To enumerate all the di- versities would be tiresome ; but this slight fketch ought to be sufficient te’ make one hesitate in admit- ting, without proof, that such prodigious diversities fhould all have been the progeny of one common pa- ‘rent. . id , Were these diversities only casual and apt tovary, it might be more easy for us to give faith to the hys potheses ; but this is not the case. Experience hath fully proved, that any one breed may be kept pers fectly uncontaminated for any length of time, with all its distinctive peculiarities entire, merely by pre- * Of the sagacity of dogs many instances might be adduced; but none that I have ever met with can equal the toliowing instances of the sagacity of a fhepherd’s dog ; the owner himseli having been hang. ed some years ago for sheep stealing, the. follpwing facts, among o thers respecting the dog, were authenticated /by evidence on his trial. When the man intended to steal any sheep, he did not do it himself, but detached his dog to perform the businesS. With this view, under pretext of looking at the fheep, with an intention to purchase them, he wentthrough the flock with his dog at hisfgot, to whom he secretly gave a signal so as to Jet him know the individuals he wanted, to the num- ber of perhaps ten or twelve, out of a flock of some oundreds; he then Went away, and from « distance of severaimiles sent back the dog by himseli in the night time, who picked out the individual sheep that had been pointed out to himn,—separated them from the flock, and drove them befo.e him by himself, for the distance of ten or twelve tailes till he came up with his master, towhom he delivered up his charge. F ‘ , F 3793- on varieties of domestic animals. 1ty venting an intermixture by copulation. Nor is this all: it is also known that if such intermixture be per- mitted, the descendants will undoubtedly be a mixed breed, evidently participating of the qualities and ap- pearences of both its parents. Between'a hound and a grehound, a mongrel breed is obtained which pof- sefses the sense of smelling, though in a lefs degree than the one, and the faculty of fleetnefs in a lefs de- . gree than the other, of its parents; and its whole ex- ternal appearance evidently indicates at first sight, the compound of the stock from whence it has descended. ‘The same thing is observable in every other mon- grel breed: and after the distinctive qualities have been thus blended together, it dees not seem’ pofsible ever to separate them, so as to obtain once more a breed from that progeny, whicli fhall pofsefs the original qualities of either of the pareats pure, This may be indeed nearly effected, by crofsing re- peatedly with @ pure individual, of the unmixed breed through many generations ; by which means the qualities which were once eguadly blended, will become so unequally mixed, as that one of them fhall not be discernible ; just a- an equal mixture of milk and water might, by frequent additions of pure Water, have the miuik so much diluted as to be totally imperceptible, ' Now, im this last case, whether is it more natural for me to suppose, when | see the two fluids, milk and water, perfectly distinct, that these fluids were o. riginally separate and distinctthings, or to believe that — both the milk and the water had been the same thing sriginally, and by some wonder‘ul procefs, of which { ; 118 on varieties of domestic animals. Sept. 25+ we had seen no example, but much the reverse, had spontaneously separated, and in time become two dis- tinct fluids, both of which we are sure, inevitably to lose, if ever they fhall be suffered to mix together again? The production of distinct breeds of animals, is equally contradictory to the whole of the experi- ence we have had in the breeding of domestic ani- mals. It is easy for us when we please to adulte- rate any breed; bnt it totally exceeds onr power af- ter such adulteration to recover the pure breed a- gain. If, with a view to enlarge our ideas on this head, we go to vegetables, in regard to the varieties of which, philosophers entertain nearly the same opini- ons, we fhall find among those that are called varie- ties very great diversities, so as to constitute several distinct clafses. In one clafs, for example, among which may be ranked the common potatoe, we find that plants ob- tained from seeds are disposed to sport infinitely ; and none of the progeny can ever be expected to be found exactly of the same kind with the parent stock ; so that if that stock be not propagated otherwise than by seeds, it will be lost never to be recovered.* Ma- ny plants belong to this ciafs, as pinks, ‘carna- tions, &c. / Another clafs of plants, which are equally stiled warzeties are not liable to sport, or indeed to inter- mingle at all in breeding, but continue to propagate their own kind by seeds without variation. No i * See Bath society papers, vol. vi. 1793- on varieties of domestic animals. 11g man I believe ever had a white pea from a gray, Or a gray froma white. If white pease perfectly un- mixed with gray are sown, it is well known the whole of the produce will be white, and so of gray : many plants also belong to this clafs. A third clafs, like that of animals, may be raised by seeds either pure and unadulterated, or mixed and of a mongrel breed, at pleasure. Cabbages afford a noted instance of this sort: white or red cabbages may be reared from seeds without degenerating, for any length of time, if the two kinds be kept at a great distance from each other; but fhould a white cabbage be allowed to perfect its seeds in the neigh- bourhood of red cabbages producing seeds at the same time, a mongrel kind would rise from these seeds, which would not be pure white, nor distinct red, but a pale red compounded of the two. Early and late cabbages; which are very distinguifhable from each other in several respects, besiies earlinefs, are adulterated in the same manner. Savoys in like manner may be blended thus also with cabbages or other greens. In fhort, the peculiarities affecting this clafs of plants, are precisely similar to those affecting different breeds of dogs, and other animals ; so that when once a mongrel breed has been obtained, there -is no recovering the true sort, but by a frefh impor- tation of uncontaminated seeds, though the mongrel sort may be preserved as long as you please by pro~ pagating it by itself. The inference I would draw from these facts, (and other clafses of plants might be named) is, that since we find naturalists have overlooked some very 420 + on varieties of domestic fiieralias oe ty obvious peculiarities of plants, which affect those di versities that have been called warzeties, they may have in like manner overlooked other peculiarities that may occasion striking diversities among ani- mals, which have been called varieties : and as this subject has never yet been thoroughly investigated, it behooves us to be cautious in admitting general conclusions. With regard to dogs, which as being well known to every one, are a fit object for illustration, we, see, that let a small lap dog, and a large mastiff be fed with the same food and tended with the same care, the one discovers no symptoms of increasing in size or diminifhing it more than the other. Let them be carried from one country to another, they e- qually preserve their original distinctive qualities, without any fartler change than the climate may perhaps produce; which equally seems to affect all the varieties of this animal. Never was there adopted an hypothesis more truly absurd than that of Buffon in this respect. Nor was there ever made such 4 barefaced attempt to try how far the credu- lity of mankind could lead them astray in deference to a great name, in direct contradiction to facts which fall immediately under the cognisance of every man who pleases but fo open his eyes, and look right before him, as in those bold and unfounded afsertions which he has ben pleased to make, with regard to the trans formation of dogs, from one variety into another. Yet these opinions have been inadvertantly transcribe ed many times by ‘learned naturalists, without one symptom of doubt or hesitation, - 2793+ on varieties of domestic animals. = 12% The fhepherd’s dog Me Buffin considers as the pa- rent-stock from which all the different varieties have been produced, by a change of climate, education, food, and other circumstances. ‘* This animal (he «© observes.) still ‘continues pretty nearly in its ori- ‘« ginal state among the poor in temperate climates. «« Being transported into colder regions, he becomes ‘* smaller, as among the Laplenders ; but becomes “ more perfect in Iceland, Rufsia, and Siberia, «s where the climate is lefs rigorous, and the people * more civilized.” But if there is a difference in the dogs of these countries, it can scarcely be owing to the cause afsigned, as the climate of Lapland i is as mild as that of a great part of Siberia, and the inha- bitants perhaps more civilized. «© The fhepherd’s dog, (he farther observes), if transported to temperate climates, and among pco- ple entirely civilized, such as England; France, or Germany, becomes divested of his savage air, his pricked ears, his long thick hair, and from the influence of climate and education will become a ‘* bull-dog, a mastiff, a beagle, or 2 hound.”—— But if this were the case, whence fhould it hap- pen that we in Britain have the race of thepherd’s dogs in as grea’ perfection as any where else, and the mastiff, bull-dog, haund, &c. in equal perfec- tion; andcan preserve the breeds of each of these kinds as distinct from one ancther, as if they had been bred in the most distant corners of the earth ? ** The hound, the ter ier, and smali-spotted set. '** ting-dog, he considers as of the same family; and ** afserts, that they are often all produced at the “Vou xVil. . Q + 122 on varieties of domestic animals. Sept. 25. same litter, although the bitch thould have been «‘ covered with only one kind of dog.”’- I ask the reader, if ever he knew asingle instance where this happened ? ‘© The hound, (he farther observes), if transport- “« ed into Spain or Barbary, where the hair of all ‘* animals becomes soft and long, will be converted «¢ into the land and water spaniel ;— and when these ‘* are again brought back to Britain,” instead of re- turning to their former state of a hound, ‘* they be- “‘ come tne small fhagged dog.” But who does not know, that spaniels continue to be bred in Bri- tain for ages without degenerating in the smallest de- gree? ' We have seen above, that the mastiff, bull-dog, beagle, and hound, to which may be added the terri- er and small setting-dog, are all produced in Britain trom the fhepherd’s dog transported from cold cli- mates ** But this mastiff dog, (he observes), * when carried to the north,” deserts his original fa- mily, and ‘* becomes the large Danifh dog ;—and ‘+ when transported to the south, becomes a grey- ‘* hound. The same transported into Ireland, the ‘* Ukrain, Tartary, Epirus, and Albania, becomes the great wolf-dog, known by the name of the ‘* Irifh dog, which is the largest of all dogs.” Taus he makes the fhepherd’s dog, when transport- ed from the north to Britain, become a mastiff ; and that again, when remanded back to the north, instead of returning to its original state of a fhepherd’s dog, becomes a large Danilh dog ;—which again brought back to Britain, its original country, instead of a 1793- » on varieties of domestic animals. 123 _miastiff, becomes a greyhouad; which by another change of climate, scarce perceptible, is metamor- phosed into the large Irifh dog.—These surprising. transformations might figure very well in Ovid, but do not tally quite so well with the character of a phi- losophic natural historian. ** The bull-dog, (he farther goes on), when trans- ** ported into Denmark, becomes the little Danifh «* dog ; and this little Danifn dog, sent into warm ** climates, becomes the Turkifh dog without hair.”” In the last paragraph, we saw the mastiff in a morthern climate encrease in size, and become the large Danifh dog :—here his brother the bull dog, by a like change of place, dwindles into the small Danith dog.—How it fhould happen, that the same change of climate fhould produce changes so diame- trically opposite, remains to be explained. ——When this little Danifh dog, however is sent back to milder climates again, he does not recover his former size, or grow larger, like the mastiff; but by another metamorphosis, altogether as extraordinary, be- comes the naked Turkifh dog. The hound, the - full brother of this mastiff, we saw on a former oc- casion, when carried ‘to the warm coast of Barbary, got a coat of longer hair, and became a spaniel ; this one loses his hair entirely. Can any thing be more contrary to reason, expe- rience, aod facts that every man has before his eyes every day in his life, than the above hypo- thesis ! It is humiliating for the pride of man, who plumes himself on the superiority of reason to re« 124 the rose without prickles, a tale. Sept. 256 mark this.—And it is mortifying for modern philo- sophy which affects to be founded on experience and accurate Observation of facts alone, to point out such things: but truth ought im all cases to be adher- ed to. To be continued. IVAN CZAROWITZ, OR THE ROSE WITHOUT PRICKLES, THAT STINGS NOT, A TALE. ~ Written sy HER Imperiat Mayesry. Continued from p. 87, and concluded Not far from this they spied the house of a peae gant, surrounded by several acres of well cultivated ground, on which were growing several kinds of corn, as rye, oats, barley, buck wheat, &c. Some of this corn was ripening, and some only springing up. A little farther they saw a meadow on which horses, cows, and fheep were grazing. They found the landlord with a watering pan in his hand, with wich he was watering the cucumbers and cabbag- es set by his wife The children were employed in clearing away the uselefs weeds from among the gar- den stuffs. Rafsudok addrefsed them : ‘‘God be with you good people !”” They answered, ‘thank you young gentlemen ; ; ’and they made a distant bow to the Cza- rowitz as to a stranger; butin a triendly manner they adarefsed Kafsudock : ‘ Be so kind as to go in- ¥793- thetrose without prickles, a tale. 225 to our dwelling ; your mother the Sultana loves us, visits us, and does not neglect us.?* Rafsudok con- sented and with Ivan wentintotheyard. Inthe middle of the yard there stood an old and lofty oak, under which was a broad and:clean scraped bench, with a table before it. The landlady and her daughter-in- law spread a table cloth, and placed on the table 2 bowl of butter milk, and another with poached eggs : they set down also a difh of hot pancakes, soft boil- ed eggs, and in the middle a good bacon ham. They brought brown bread, and set down to every one 2 can of sweet milk ; and by way of desert, presented freth cucumbers, and cranberries, t with honey. The landlord prefsed them to eat. The travellers, who were hungry, found every thing excellent, and during supper talked_with the landlord and landlady, who told them how healthily, happily , and quietly they lived, and in all abundance, suitable to their condition ; pafsing their time in country work, and ‘overcoming every want anddifficulty by industry. After supper they spread on the same bench mats, and Rafsudok and Ivan put their cloaks on the mats. The landlady gave to each a pillow with a clean pillow- slip ; so they lay dowa, and being tired they soon fell asleep. ti * May not this have been meant asa disguised fketch of the august painter herself, who is said tobe very condescending and kind to such of her subjects as are industrious, particularly in the line of agri- €ulture. ; +The berries named is kluickva, but asI dont know the Englih pame Ihave substituted cranberries, brusnika. 126 the rose without prickles, atale. Sept. 25; In the morning they got up at day break, and having thanked their landlord, who would have no- thing for their lodging, they pursued their journey. Having got about half a mile, they heard the sound of the bag pipe. Ivan wanted to go nearer; but Rafsudok hinted that the bagpipe would lead them out of their way. Curiosity got the better of Ivan, and he went up to the bagpipe ; but when he saw the mad pranks of disfigured drunkards staggering about the piper, he was terrified, and threw himself into the arms of Rafsudok, who carried him back to ; the road. Having pafsed through a grove they saw a steep hill. Rafsudok told Ivan that the rose with- out prickles that stings not grew there. Ivan, op- prefsed with the heat of the sun, grew tired; he be- gan to fret, —said there was no end to that road, how far it is! and afked if they could not find a nearer way. Rafsudok answered, that he was carrying him the nearest way, and that difficulties are only “to be overcome by patience, The Czarowitz in il humour cried out ; perhaps | fhall find the way my- self,--waved his hand, doubled his pace, and separate ed himself from his guide. Rafsudok remained behind and foliowed slowly in silence. The child entered a market town where there were few who took notice of him, for it was a market day, and every body was engaged in busi- nefs in the market place. The Czarowitz wander- ing among carts and noisy traders, began to cry. One person, who did not know him, pafsed by, and secing him crying said to him: ‘* Have done crying eine a siee 24793- the rose without prickles, a tale, 127 you little whelp, without you we have noise enough here.”? At that very moment Rafsudok had overta- ken him. The Czarowitz complained that they had called him whelp; Rafsudok said not a word but conducted him out of the crowd. When Ivan asked him why he did not talk with him as for- merly, Rafsudok answered, ‘* You did not,ask my *¢ advice but went to an improper place, and so dont “* be offended if you did not find the people to your’ ** mind.”? Rafsudok withed to prolong his speech when they met a man, sot over young, but of an agreeable appearance, surrounded with a great many boys. As Ivan was curious to know every thing, he called one of the boys, and asked who the man was. ‘* This man is our master, said the boy, we ‘* have got our lefson aud are going to take a walk *, ‘‘but pray where are you going?”? The Czarowitz told him that they ‘were seeking the rose without prickles, that stings not. ‘I have heard, said the ** boy, from our master, an explanation of the rose *‘ without prickles, that stings not. This flower ** signifies nothing more than virtue. Some people “‘ think to find it by going bye ways; but nobody “can get it unlefs he follows the streight road ; and “ happy ishe that by an honest firmnefs can overcome “all the difficulties of that road. You see before * The Czarina may be supposed here also to allude to one of her own favourite institutions, that of free schools over all her dominions, on a plan equally simple and comprehensive, which my informant says has been attended with the happiest effects. i arm promised an account of that useful institution which fhall be laid before the readers of this mork. Edit. a28 the rose without priokles, a tale... Sept. 25. §* you the hill on which grows the rose without pric- *‘kles that stings not; butthe road is steep and full ** of rocks.” Having said this he took his leave and went after his master. Ivan and his guide went cement to the hill, and founda narrow and rocky track on which they walk- ed with difficalty. They there met an old man and woman in white, both of a respectable appearance, who stretched out their staffs to them and said, ‘* support yourselves on our staffs and you will not ‘*stumble.”” The people thereabouts told them that the name of the first was vehi and, of the other Truth. Having got tothe foot of the hill, leaning on the staffs, they were obliged toscramble from the track ' by the branches, andso from branch to branch they gotat length to the top of the hill, where they found the rose without prickles that stirgs not. They had no sooner pulled the flower, than ‘music was heard in a neighbouring temple; and it was e- very where spread abroad that the Czarowitz Ivan at so tender an age had found the rose without prickles that stings not. He made haste to the Han with the flower, and the Han dismifsed him to the Czar. The Czar was so well pleased with the: arrival of the Czarowitz and his succefs, that he forgot all his anxiety and grief. The Czar, the Czarina and all the people became daily more fond of the Czarowitz, because he daily advanced 14 vir- tue. Here the tale ends, and who knows better, let him tell another. 2903. @ vision. 165 a Sir, ‘To the Editor of the Bee. It wilt give me pleasure if this fhort paper fhall ap- pear to you worthy of a place in your useful mis- cellany. A STRANGER. A VISION. Durinc the troublesome times of the last century, a gentleman of the royal party was obliged from some private businefs, to travel into a distant part of the country. Being overtaken by a violent storm, he took fhelter under the hospitable roof of a friend, with whom he had been familiarly acquaint. ed in the early period of life. After a comfortable refrefhment, and a fhort account of what had befal. len him since the time of their separation, he turn- ed the conversation to politics, and exprefsed with much force and animation, his apprehensions of the to- tal destruction of Great Britain. Benevolus, (for such was the name of his kind entertainer,) heard him with pleasure, ‘and joined in execrating those scenes to which they had been constrained to bear witnefs. But, added this good man, I am per- suaded, that all will yet be well,—ihat from the a. narchy and confusion which now desolate our bor- ders, there will arise a constitution more perfect than has ever fallen to the lot of any people. Upon seeing astonifhment spread itself on the countenance of his guest, he proceeded to check the doubt which had begun to rise in his mind. ** Although I am not the dupe of superstition, hor apt to be deceived by the creatures of imagina- VOL, XVii.- R t 170 @ vision. Sept. 25 tion, yet the circumstance which I am _ now to re- Iate, made a deep an indelible. imprefsion on my mind. One evening a few weeks ago, I was me- ditating on the distracted and melancholy state of the nation. My thoughts were insensibly carried farther. I considered the condition of man under the various forms of government which have exist- ed. I viewed him groaning under the yoke of des- pctism. I saw the inhabitants »fa large country, the slaves of one insignificant fellow creature, com- pelled to receive his will as a law, forced to obey the most tyrannical mandates. I beheld the inno- cent man dragged from his family, denied an oppor- tunity of vindicating himself from the accusations of his enemies, perifhing under the stroke of the exe- cutioner. I beheld the good citizen, who by ho- nest industry, had gained a competent fortune, de- prived of the fruit of his labours, and thrown with- out a friend upon a hard hearted world. ‘¢ Tired with this thocking picture, I turned to one of an opposite kind. I saw a people uncontrolled by authority a prey to unbotinded licentiousnefs. My blood froze with horror. Thousands fell butchered at the pleasure of a demagogue. Virtue hid its head. Every thing sacred was trampled under foot. ‘*{ thought on Sparta. Its harfh restraint ill suited to the nature of man, far lefs to the manners of the present time, filled me with disgust. I looked on Athens the seat of the arts. There continual fac- ijons raged; merit and patriotism were the infalli- ble conductors to ignominy and ruin. Rome, the inistrefs of the world, struggled with internal dif. _ 9 Oe ee 1793+". a VISION. 17r sention. ‘They who started the friends of the plebei- ans, allured by the prospects that flattered ambiti-: on, too often betrayed their cause, and joined ifsue. with their cruel opprefsors. «My spirits were now sunk in the deepest dejec- tion. Is man, I exclaimed, born tobe the sport of misery ;—must the social union be cemented only by blood ? » “The weight that hung over my mind overcame me, and] fell into a profound sleep. While wrap- ped in it, a female more beauteous than the daugh- ters of men seemed to stand before me. Sweetnefs beamed from her countenance ; music flowed from her tongue. After casting on me a look of ineffa~ ble mildnefs, the thus broke silence. The angel of liberty, O mortal, has coue fron heaven to soothe thy troubled soul, to wipe from thy breast the im~ prefsions made by the past, by fhewing you what is yet tocome. Long, employed in higher regions, have I resisted the prayers ot the sons of the dust, and deigned not to look on this terrestrial scene. But ere long, will I return to thy happy land, and pour down upon its inhabitants the richest of my blefsings. Guided by my influence, its monarch hall no longer wifh to sway the sceptre of opprefsion. His will be the delightful tafk of defending and pro- tecting his subjects, as a father the children of his love. The nobles, under whose rod thy ancestors were humbled, hall forget their haughty insolence, and guard alike the rights of the sovereign and the people. The commons, conscious of their dignity, fhall lift their voice,—thall guard by their wise de- : erees the happinefs they enjoy, hall give to the ne-~ 172 on the value and uses of the larch tree. Sept. 25. eefsities of the state from their inexhaustible trea sures. In every prayer, that ascends to heaven, those in every clafs will pour forth their gratitude, that it has been given them to live under a Britifh constitution. Those mighty nations to whom this island now appears contemptible, will regard it with wonder and envy,—will admire and with for that pro= sperity, for that true liberty, which they will long be unable to attain. While thankfulnefs warms the breasts of Briti/b subjects, 1 will be their friend and protector: but if in the height. of their glory, they murmur and repine; if duped by att, they listen to those who would wifh to destroy them, soon will I leave them forever,—soon will they be plunged in calamity from which they never will e- merge.” _ While I was striving to throw myself at the feet of the goddefs I awoke, Fuly 11. 4793+ _ Cives. On THE VALUE AND USEs OF THE LarcH TREE. Continued from p. 16. For making dwetling houses. Me Harte in his efsays on hufbandry, enumerates many of the uses to which this wood is applied in Carniola and Carinthia, where the larch tree a- bounds ; but none of those he mentions, conveys such a delightful idea of the benefits we might de- rive from it, did it here abound, as his description of a C«rniolian cottage, and the conveniencies the inhabitants derive from this wood when compared 4793. on the valué and uses of the larch tree. 173 with the hovels that the poor people in many parts ot Britain, are obliged to content themselves with. A Carniolian cottage, which may last without standing in need of any repairs for centuries, is thus reared. A beam of larch wood is squared and laid lengthwise in a small trench, made where the wall is to be reared, as far as the wall is meant to ex- tend. Another beam of equal length is also squa- red, though of somewhat smaller dimensions, intend- ed to form the top of the wall. Ocher beams are then squared and cut into equal lengths, the height of the intended’ wall. Upon each of these beams which are intended to stand upright close by the side of each other,.and thus form the wall, are cut a tenon at each end, and into the beam at bottom are cut mortoises, to receive these tenons at proper dis- tances, and corresponding mortoises in the beam which is to be put at top. The uprights are then put into the mortoises in the sole beam, and leay- ing a blank for the door; and cutting the uprights at a proper height for windows, the top beam is put on above, and the whole’ driven down tight. Thus is formed one of the walls. The others are com- pleted after the same manner with wonderful neat- nefs and facility. Couples of the same wood are then placed on the walls to formthe roof; and the whole is lathed over, and covered in with cingles of the same wood. The work is then finifhed. In a little time there oozes out from the pores of the wood, a kind of juice, at first brownifh, which gradu-lly be- comes black. This serves as a kind of varnith, which at the same time fills up all the small cran- pies so as to cement the whole into one mafs, which 174 on the value and uses of the larch tree. Sept. 25. is equally impervious to rain and wind: nor is it in danger of catching fire; for if a flaming billet were laid upon the roof, it would not be inflamed, but would resist fire till the billet was entirely consumed, I can form no idea of an habitation that could be obtained at a small expence for a poor man, which could in any degree be compared with this one. Flooring, joisting, &e. Enough has been said already to prove that no wood known in this part of the world, is so proper as the larix for joists, rafters, and beams of every sort, where strength, lightnefs, and durability are wanted in build ngs. In all these points of view it is much preferable to any kind of fir; and being a quicker grower, and more easily reared, 1t ought to be af- forded at least as cheap as fir wood. When sawed into deals, it is still in a higher de- gree to be preferred for flooring, because it. fhrinks much lefs, and is not nearly so liable to be set on fire; not to mention its greater durability: so that there is no reason to doubt, but as soon as it comes to be sufficiently known, it will be invariably sub- stituted instead of fir for these purposes. Windows, and doors, coach pannelling, &c. Safhes for windows are the most expensive part of an ordinary dwelling house at present, because no durable material has yet been discovered, of which the soles of the windows, especially, can be made, so that they stand in need of frequen: repairs. In old times these were made of oak ; but experience has discovered that oak when exposed to the vicifsitudes of weather, is as perifhable as fir; which last, as. 1793- 02 the value and uses of the larch tree. 175 being cheaper, is now invariably applied to that use. The larix on account of its incorruptibility is precisely the thing wanted; and because it neither fhrinks, nor warps, nor splits, it is rendered pecu- liarly proper for doors and other pannelled works, where neatnefs and closenefs are required, especial- ly in such situations where great thicknefs or weight would be improper. It is therefore superior to ma- hogony, and every other known wood for pannelling coaches, and other light thin works of the same kind. . Machinery. It is of so much consequence for the true going of machinery, to have it made of wood that will not warp, that the operators find themselves in general re- duced to the necefsity of making these forthe most part of mahogony ; the price of which being thus enhan- ced, from the great consumption of this article, it becomes a heavy additional charge to the cxpence of erecting extensive manufactures. But as larch wood fhrinks and warps lefs than mahogony, and is strong- er and more durable, while it’ may be afforded at lefs than one tenth of the price, whenever it comes into general use for this purpose it will be a great national advantage. Barrel staves. Much money is sent out of Britain annually for barrel staves, and heading, which as soon as larch wood becomes common, will no longer be necefsary ; as itis in every respect better calculated for that purpose than any other known wood in Europe. Wot only in regard to diminithing the first cost will 196 onthe value and uses of the larch tree. Sept. 24. this be a great saving * ; but a much greater benefit will be derived from the diminution in regard to leakage that this will produce; for as the kinds of wood that have been hitherto employed for this pur- pose, are more liable to be affected by the vicifsi- tudes of the weather than it is, the leakage in larix cafks will be greatly lefs than in others. For these reasons, in regard to valuable liquors especially, the benefit be derived from larix cafks would be immense. l¥ ever the herring fifheries be allowed to go for- ward in Scotland, this will be an important improve-~ ment to them ; as it might be reared in the Highs lands im immense quantities, at scarcely any ex- pence. Ship building. In regard to fhip building, larch wood pofsefses advantages above all others, that ought to render it almost an object of idolatry to the Britifh nation. It is establifhed upon very good authority, that it resists the worm much more in warm climates than any other European wood. It is much more du- rable than oak, —vis lighter, and fhrinks much when used as plank, so as to require lefs caulking,— is lefs apt to fly icto splinters during an engage- ment, and lefs liable to take fire. These qualites point it out as superior to Britith oak itself for plank for fhip building ; and as it can be reared on any soil, * On account ofthe lefs price of larix than other staves, the saving to a porter brewer, including tuns and cafks, on first entering upon businefs in London, would not be lefs than several thousand pounds, 3. on the value and uses of the larch tree. 13% a almost i any situation, and grows much. more fapidly than any other kind of wood, fhuuld ever the culture of this tree become as general as it ought to be, it will render this nation wholly independent of all others for the important article of fhip timber. For although bended ribs, and kneed joints are efsen- tial articles in the timbers for the constructi- on of vefsels on the plan universally adopted at present, yet a time may come, and is probably at no great distance, when it will-be found that crook- ed timber is not in the smallest degree requisite for the construction of vefsels for any purpose whate- ver ; and if ever that time does come, it will be discovered also, that the timbers as well as the plank may be made entirely of larch wood. At Archangel in Rufsia, where this timber abounds, we are informed that no other wood is employed for fhip buildiag, and that also at Venice, according to Mr Rritchie Britifh resident there*. Many other uses to which this timber might be applied could be here enumerated; but the above are sufficient to convince every one, that if the larch tree can be reared easily, and grows with rapidity in this country, it ought to become an object of u- niversal attention ; and that the culture of it fhould be pufhed forward as quickly as pofsible ; for eve- ry moment of delay must be a retardment of the prosperity of this country. Ina future paper! fhall beg leave to offer a few remarks on the mode of rearing this’ timber, and the benefits that may be de- rived from it as aa object of cukure, # Memoirs of the soceity of arts London, vol. vii. VOL. xvii, s oa POETRY. PRONE 2S ; RE ene era i Fase PLEASURE, A FRAGMENT: Ay ‘ Dea saeva potentibus herbis. VIRc. —Envious of mankind ; When blefs’d with equal rule their virtues rise, And blofsom and produce the fruits cf love, Concord and friendfhip and serene delight; By fiends deputed, envious of mankind, : ‘Th’ offspring of luxury, ‘alse pleasure speeds To blast the beautious'scene. In gay attire She comes with winning gesture, and her speech Flows sweetly musical. O bar your ears Against the dire enticement: nor allow’ Her thrilling jay to gain and steep your hearts Tn the lewd extacy. Whoever yeilds To the soft dittied strain, fhall rue, ere long, With sore contrition: or, all sense of right Raz’d from his soul, fhail glory in a fhape © Transform’d to brutal. For the witching song Lures the free spirit from her lofty course And tow’ring progrefs ’mid aerial tracts, Dathes and soils her plumage, that erewhile. Shone like th’ Arabian phoenix, in the mire’ And tilth of sordid pafsion. Then adieu, The lib’ral aim! Corruption, festring deep, Grapples.with canc’ring fang, the heart that heaves | Reluctant, soon in ev'ry cell and pore ? | To gufh with livid venom.—In those days The pleading eye of Pity ; Mercy’s smile: » Trath’s lofty fore ead chaliengingthe storm, , | That on its marble, like the breath of even, Sighs ineffectual ; Fortitude that prasps A mountainoak, aud marches firm athwart The fury of a flood ; th’ ingeriuous bluth That tinges with unbitten glow, the cheek Of meek eye’d Modesty; and th’ attracteve grace Of sprightly Temperance, no longer charm ; Th’ empaision’d breast ; nor gain deserv’d applause Nor kindle sympathetic fires ; nor wake The with to imitate, and win like charms, And clothe the soul with honour. All-those arts | That tend t’ enoble and refine the mind, 4 | Languifh neglected. ‘Thou informing power! ‘i Thou genius of affecting song : thou soul Of ev’ry gen’rous art! by whom aloné, : | ; : poetry). 139 The heatt while melted is enlarg’d, released Prom grov’ling bondage, fill’d with daring might ; © virtue! when the tainted breast nor feels t Thy grandeur, nor thy lovelinefs; but seeks Ti frivolous, the dazzling, and the vain ; Adieu the manly thought, th’ intrepid mind ; An@ thou, fair Liberty, adieu !—Awake, Ye sons of song, wake from th unfeeling trance, And hurl the lightning ot bold verse! Defend The fane of holy freedom! for I deem Whate’er of pleasing or sublime adorns Or elevates the tuneful lay, depends On that protecting power. Whenservile fear Hangs on the drooping spirit, when restraint Bars from the loveliest, sublimest theme ;-— Bars from the praise of virtue; and when pride, Exalted, insolent and vain, requires Th’ applauding strain ; enervated and mean Creep the cold numbers. Sweep the mighty lyre Undaunted, and the sons of other times our song fhall venerate, and write your name High in the zecord of immortal fame. JULIANA. eee ee ga ee Se Verses TO A Lapy, Wiru tHe GenTLE SHEPHERD. Fair lady this affecting lay peruse, ‘i The genuine offspring of the Doric muse: .. The muse erewhile on aledonia’s plains That charm*d the forests with mellifluent strains. Copious and clear where Leven glides along: Where Tweda listens to the fhepherd’s song : Where Spey impetuous pours his rapid tide ; Or in the valley of Commercial Clyde: By winding Forth, or by the silver Tay, Warbling the welcomed the return of May. Cold now the hands, extinct the heavenly fire That waked to extacy the living lyre. No more the energy of song prevades Our silent valleys and forsaken glades ; No more the green hill and the deepening grove Resound the longing, langtid voice of love. For Hamilton the loves and graces mourn ; And tuneful muses weep at Ramsay’s urn. * 10 the solitudes. Sept, 25% THE SOLITUDES. Continued jrom p.72 and concluded. Createp for sorrow and tears, we wander here below in the midst of fhades, in a night without stars, It is beyond the tomb that day lightens. To what givest thou the name of pleasure, unhappy mortal? Observe narrow- ly the dazzling scenes of life,—thou wilt only see a cloth on which error has thrown colours without brightnefs : the fool adwnires it, the sage considers it with indifference ; sometimes it amuses him but it never deceivés him... . Fut does not humanity offer more eminent pleasures ? are they all like those of the frivolous young man, or of the prince without merit. No, sweet pleasures, confidents.of virtue, follow the steps of the retired sage, who, too great for the confusion of the earth, pafses his days in the bot- tom of a peaceful valley, far from the tumult of cities, in the arms of a tender wife. Transported with joy, when the morning animates the meadows, he slowly traverses the smiling groves: animated with a secret gaity, he contemplates the flowers, which seem to smile upon him : insensibly the objects around lead him to the throne of the Creator. In his religious and profound contemplati- on, his soul darts beyond this criminal globe. His af- fectionate spouse presents herself before him; they em- brac: tenderly ; tears of joy run down their glowing cheeks. The invisible argvls who surround them, see with a celestial joy that God has permitted man to taste a felicity almost equal to their own. . »-.+In the evening, when a copious dew has moistened the fields, he again wanders out into the valiey, his eyes raised to the £793 the solitudes. qt star of night,--who, serene and calm as his heart, casts her gentle rays on him. At last he takes his lyre,—he sings the praise of the almighty, and his accents spread afar, acrofs the darknefs and the silence of the forests. A se- cond time Doris comes to find him in the valley: calm as a fine evening, and’ serene as the summer’s night, they return to their rural habitation and fall asleep in the midst of repese. Thus slept Adam in the arms df his innocent wife, whilst, guarded by angels, inhabited delicious Eden. . . . « * Where fhall I find the plea. sures which I have been painting ? Where is the wise man happy ? and how long does his felicity endure ?- Alas! we may perhaps soon see him bathing, with his tears, the the tomb of his beloved wife. Spring no longer flourifh- es for him; his lyre is become mute; he detests the light of day—the fhades of night increase his grief; he sighs, he withes for the moment that will unite his athes to those of his dear Doris. But if heaven fhould spare him : if tears of sorrow never bath’d his eyes, would he be insensible to the misfor- tunes of others,—to the misfortunes of his friends ? Would he see with an indifferent eye virtue in distrefs? Ah! if he has a feeling heart, how can he be happy here be- low ? and if he has not, how can he take the name of wise, Alas! for one happy incident, how many scenes of sorrow there are in the stage of life! There a furious warrior destroys the master pieces of an artist, who thought to live to immortality : the villager sees all his hopes rise in the smoke of his consuming cabin. In vain in his despair does he raise his innocent hands.to heaven. ‘The timid virgin is cruelly snatched from the arms of her mother by licentious soldiers ; fhe implores the afsistance of her lover but her lover isno more. He quitted her to seek glory in the fields of war. He has there fallen ; and in dying he ia) - _ the solitudes. ‘Seot. 25, still pronounced the loved name of lis mistrefs, She feels her heart inflamed by a sublime despair: a dagger snatches her soul from thé earth, and her body from infa- my. The soul darts to heaven ; the body falls without be+ ‘ing profaned ; a peaceful tomb incloses it. . . . In better worlds, her soul will find that of her young lo. ver, But what pleasure hast thou, unhappy young man, in tracing this picture of crimes and of sorrows? Alas! hast thou not enough of evils of thine own? why increase them with foreign ills, which thy imagination stl] heightens ? What is become of those sweet and smiling images which youth and hope presented to you inan agreeable back ground! Those brilliant visions of a happy futurity have disappeared. . . . The ideas which made thy hap- pinels are difsipated like the dream of the summer’s night. Thy youth pafses : time will soon have devoured the last moment of it, Already thy days of sicknefs and distrefs are come. Thou wilt pafs the rest of thy days in a sad servitude; and thou wilt die unknown. Fools will pals — without emotion near the tomb where thou wilt repose.— But when wilt thou repose? How many days poisoned with chagrin and melancholy await thee still ! Who knows even, if fate in anger may not snatchthy lyre from thee? thy lyre, the last and sweetest consolation of thy life: . . Adieu, my friends! dont refuse me the last marks of friendfhip : grant me a few tears. Sweet, deceitful hope! Liberty which Ihave lost and which has cost me so many tears! Adieuw . . Ye groves who hear my plaints, if ever’a young man of sensibility comes to wander under your fhades, tell him (whilst your silence will have thrown him into poetic reveries, atid a secret emotion fhall have laid hold of his heart) tell him that a young man came also to repose and 3793. the solitudes. 143 weep in these places. . . . O thou who waikest with a slow pace, absorbed in deep thought, listen to the low voice that speaks to thee from afar, “ On that tender mofs which thou tramplest at present wjth thy ivot, reposed, thought, and sighed, a young man, to whom nature had granted, as to thee, an upright tender soul, susceptible of the most sublime enthusiasm. If thou lovest virtue, thou art his friend; give him your regret. His life pafsed here _in silence and obscurity, as thou seest this rivulet flow. Now his spirit dwells in happier worlds.” Ah! when thou fhalt occupy thyself with these thoughts, may a religious and compafsionate tear run slowly down thy cheek! may thy heart, sensible and big with sighs, rise !—Ah, mayest thou pofsefs his lyre and a better fortune ! In the mean time glide on ina gentle lauguor, O my hours! cenduct soon this soul to the regions of bieised spirits, among whom Serena is ready to receive me. O death, wifhed for end of human miseries, come! _ But what voice rises in the bottom of my heart? . .~ « Banith the criminal wilhes of the impatience of mortals ; thou complainest wretch, thou cailest on death, and why a ‘To behappy. . . .-. It is the desire of nature ! + - - “Itis too great for the earth. Mortal! oe the tomb be happy ; but on this side, be wise. Thou seest millions of thy jcliows suffer, and dost thou think thyself alone worthy to be happy? Lhou fhalt beso; Wait with patience. Let affliction correct thy heart. Cares are for vice. Suffer! Serena sees thee, and blefses thy suffer- ings.” Immortal voice of my concience, I will obey thee; 1 with to feel and suffer my misiortune. Slavery reigns here below; liberty dwells in the regions of Serena. ... - - I with to repose here, where the noise of a profane tad troubles me not. O solitudes, receive me into in bs i inch a a ” +! Y44 new improvements. Se ept: 250 your bosom, that your prefound. caim may pafs into my soul! Here nature sleeps; all is calm except this spring” which descends murmuring from the top. of “that savage rock. I will not disturb this vast repose by criminal complaints; I will be silent, but I will thed tears. Ah! without tears where fhould I find a mitigation of my sor- rows? Thus religious patience, peaceful in sadnefs, sits on a marble tomb, and supports the weight of grief! —=—=aK*KK=*=*={__=_=z_zx_=x_K==]]K]===q===>>—>->~L—L"L=L("="["SSSS>>>S>>s>S>EES==" NEW IMPROVEMENTS. By his last dispaches from Gothenburg, the Editor has received intelligence of some very important improvements’ there in domestic economy, chiefly respecting the saving of fuel in’ that northern climate. These are, 1. an improved kiln for drying malt, &ce. This kiIn is so constructed as, 3, To save a great proportion.of fuel: as not much more than half the quantity that is usually required will per- form the same work. 2. There is no pofsibility of setting it on fire ; so that all the houses connected with such a kiln are perfectly safe in this respect. 3.. The malt, or any thing else thus dried cannot be affected with the smoke of fuel in the smallest degree ; so that it is a matter of indifference whether that fuel be peat or coal, or wood, or bruth of any kind; all of which may be used indifferently. 4. This kiln 1s so constructed as to act at the same ‘time as a kind of stove at pleasure duringcold weather, so’ as to: prevent the cold from operating as a check to the progrefs of malting, Gc. in cold regions. £993: new unprovementse T45 5. It also admits of being loaded and unloaded at a smaller expence than in buildings of the usual construc- tion. My informantsays thisis not a mere theoretic idea ; for he hasseen it actually carriedin part into execution, where it has been found to answer perfectly, in, as far as has been tried ; he has also seen the whole of the drawings, by means of which he understands the principle, and thinks when fully executed it is so simple as not to be liable to be put out of order, and must be very lasting; so that he conceives it to be a very material improvement. 2. An improved baker's oven. This is merely an extention of the principle applied a. bove, adapted to the form of an oven, and pofsefses all the advantages above stated ; wz, saving of fuel; preservati« on of the bread pure and uncontaminated either by the smoke or afhes ofthe fuel. It admits moreover of having the heat raised or moderated at pleasure, so as to adapt it precisely to the purpose required at the time. No contrivance, our informant thinks, has ever yet been evented equal to these two for drying all kinds of green vegetables, or evaporating moisture for any purpose in arts. In the kiln the evaporation can be carried on as slowly as may be wanted ; and itmay be easily so construc- ted as either to have the benefit of the rays of the sun, or the fhade, as may be most requisite 3 and in the oven the exsiccatjon can be pulhed as far es can be necefsary for a- ny purpose. In both cases a contrivance is, adopted for carrying off the damp air as it arises from the substances * drying 3. An economical chamber stove. This is merely an improvement of the chamber stove already in universal use in Sweden, which, he thinks, might be introduced with great propriety among the poor in Britain, where much fuel is spent unnecefsarily. These VOL. xvii, T + i 146 “a new improvement in the art military Sept. 25, are very elegantly formed of stone ware, for the apartments of the rich, and are an ornamental piece of furniture. But were the principle of this improvement explained, and illustrated by drawings, it could be constructed of brick at a small expence for the poorest cottage, so as te render these much more comfortable habitations than they are at present, with a very small consumption of fuel. Our informant adds that he has no doubt but the inven- ter would be ready to communicate the drawings of all the three to any person who enclined to purchase them, at a reasonable price. A NEW IMPROVEMENT IN THE ART Mutirary.' - Tue following paragraph lately appeared in the news papers. ‘‘ Theart of war has undergone a total change within these few years. Battles are no longer decided by horse and foot, but by artillery. the mounted artillery have, by their rapid movements, gained several important advantages to the French. ‘The Germans have adopted this improvement ; both Hefsians and Hanoverians have orse artillery with the army.” Few people know what is meant by the phrases moun- ted artillery and horse artillery, and therefore are at a log to understand the purport of this paragraph. The follow- ing explanation will probably be acceptable to them. Several years ago a gentleman, a native of Scotland, {he was neither trained a matrofs, nor bred at the acade- my of Woolwich] discovered an ingenious device by which he was enabled to remove the effects hitherto experienced from: what has been called the recoz/ of cannon when fired. By this means a gun carrying a ball, not exceeding foar pounds, can be fired upon a litter, supported between two Rerses, without being kt down; and guns of a larger 5703. a new improvement tn the art military 144 size, without any wheel carriages, carried «iso on a kind of litter, by a greater number of horses, can be let down and fired on any ground, and quickly taken up again and carried off if need be. It-is these pieces that are distin- guifhed by the above terms. This invention was first offered to be discovered to the board of artillery in Britain many years ago; but altho’ the late general Roy, who had seen the experiments | made with these guns, and understood the principle on which they were constructed, greatly approved of them, yet the noble duke at the head of the ordnance board persisted in rejecting them; because, in his opinion, nobo- dy but a profefiona/ man could understand the principles of artillery!!! _ The inventor was afterwards in France ; when he com- municated the secret'to la Fayette, who grasped at it as ‘a discovery of the utmost importance ia the art of war, to whoever fhould first avail themselves of it. From Fayette ‘Dumourier, as 1 may say, inherited it ; and it was chiefly to cas circumstance that he himself attributed the deci- sive victory he obtained at the battle of Jemappe, without which he was confident that all his efforts would have proved vain. Every advantage the Frenchhave since gained in the field, the allies have been conscious could be ascribed to no other cause ; as the French troops were in every other respect greatly inferior to those opposed to them. Having gained pofsefsion of some of these kinds of artil- lery, the sllies, it now appears, have adopted them. It docs not seem that Prince Cobourg has thought they fhould be rejected though not invented dy a profefsional man, And he wilinow be able to fight the French with their own weapons, and thus meet them on equal terms. This invention could be applied to some other uses, which, in the present situation of things, if adopted, might probably prove in a very fhort time decisive of the war. £48 , bbe Indian cottage, a tale; Sept. 25. THE INDIAN COTTAGE, A TALE. P Continued from page 111. * Ever since that time I have frequented only the suburbs of Delhiy Thence Isaw the stars enlightening the abodes of men, and confoun- ded with their fires, as ifthe fky and the city were only the same domain- When the moon poured her beamsupon the scene, I perceived other co- jours than those of the day. I admued the towers, the houses, and the trees, at once silvered and covered with fhades, which I saw reflected toa great distance on, the waters of the Gemma, I traversed at liberty the solitary and silent quarters of the city which then seemed wholly my own. Meanwhile mankind would have refused me a handful of Tice, so odious had religion rendered me. Not being able therefore ta find the means of subsistence among the living, | sought it among the dead; I went to the tombs to eat the victuals presented by the pious relations at the graves of the deceased. “ Jn those places J loved to méditate. I said to myself, “ Here is the city of peace: here power and pride disappear; innocence and vir- tue ate safe : here all the cares and fearsof life are dead; even the fears ot death are forgot. ‘[nis is the inn wherethe traveller takes up his lodging for ever; and here the paria finds a place of repose.” During suck meditations, I despised the world, and thought death a thing to be desired. I considered the east, where each moment a mu]- titude of stars were rising, Although their destinations were un. known to me, I perceived that they were connected with those of the human race, and that nature which had caused to afsemble, for the relief of their wants, so many objects that they never see, had no lefs attached to them those that fhe presents to their view. My soul therefore ascended the fkies with the stars; and when Aurora began to join to their sweet and eternal brightnefs, her rosy tints, I be- lieved myself at the gates of heaven. But as soon as her fires gilded the spires of the pagodas I vanifhed like a fhade ; I went away to repose niyself far from men, in the fields, at the foot of a tree, where the birds with their songs lulled me asleep.” ‘Sensible and unfortunate man, said the Englifhman, your story is very offecting. Believe me the most part of cities fhould be seen only 4 3793-- the Indian cottage, a tale. 149 by night. After all nature has beauties belonging to the night, which. are not lefs charming than those of the day; a famous poet, a coun- ‘fryman of mine; has made them his sole theme in one of his works. ‘But tell me, how did you find means ‘co render yourself happy during the day.’ “ T. was a good deal rained to be happy during the night, replied the Indian. Nature resembles a fine lady, who during the day exhibits the beauties of her face only to the public, and who during the night un- veils all her charms to her lover. Butif solitude has its enjoyments, ‘it has also its privations. To the unfortunate, solitude seems a calm harbour, whence he can yiew the pafsions of other men blow over without being disturbed by them; but while he congratulates him- self on his own unruffled tranquillity, time hurries him along its current. We can never cast anchor in the river of life ; it carries a- Jong with equal rapidity, the man who struggles against the stream, 2s it does him who sufiers himself to be carried along, the wise as well as the foolith ; and both arrive at the end of their days, the one after having abused life, and the other without haying known how to enjoy it. I did not with to be wiser than nature, nor to find my happinefs beyond the limits fhe has prescribed to man. I wilhed above all things to gain a friend to whom I might communicate nry ‘pleasures and my pains. 1 sought one long among my equals; but I found only persons actuated by envy. Meanwhile I found one, sen- sible, grateful, taithful, and inaccefsible to prejudice ; indeed he was not one of the human species,— it was this dog that you see, They had exposed him, when a little whelp, at the corner of a street where he was ready to die of hunger. I was touched with pity for the poor creature; I reared him, he attached himself to me, and be- came my inseparable companion.—That was not enough, I wanted 2 friend more unhappy than a dog ; one acquainted with all the evils of human society, and who might afsist me in supporting them; one, who fhould desire only the blefSimgs of nature, and with, whom I might enjoy them. It is only by fhelteripg each other mutually, and uniting their branches, that two tender young trees resist the storm. Providence crowned my desires in giving me a virtuous wife. It was in the source of my misfortunes that I found that of my happinefs. *€ One night that! was at the burial place cf the brahmins, I perceived by the light of the moon, a young female brahmin half covered with _her yellow veil. Atthesight of a woman of the kindred of my ty- fants, I started back with horrgr ; but returned through compafsion ‘356 the Indian cottage, a tale. Sept. 2%. when I observed how fhe was employed. She was setting avelsel, with ‘some victuals, upon a hillock, which covered the afhes of her mother, ’who had lately been BUR alive, along with the corpse of her father, according to the practice of her cast; and fhe was burning insence there, to recal her fhade. The tears rufhed into my eyes at seeing a person more unhappy than myself. I said to myself, alas! I am bound with the bouds of infamy, but thou with those of glory. At least T live undisturbed at the foot oi my precipice ; thou still tremblest on the verge of thine. The same destiny that hascarried offthy mother, threa- tens one day to carry off thee also. Thou hast received only one life, and thou must die two deaths. Ir thy own death does not cause thee go down tothe grave, that of thy hufband will drag thee thither though still alive. I was weeping, and fhe was weeping. Our eyes bathed in tears met each other, and spoke like those of the unfortu- nate; fhe turned away hers, wrapt herself in her veil, and retired: The following night, I returned to the same place. She had set a greater store of provisions on her mother’stomb. She had judged that I stood in need of them ; and as the brahmins often poison the victuals they place on the graves of the dead, to prevent the parias from eat- ing, to fhow me that I needed be under no apprehension of danger in using her’s, fhe had brought fruits only. I was affected by this mark ef humanity ; and in order to testify the respectI bore to her filial offer- ing, instead of taking away her fruits) I added flowers. ‘Uhese were poppies, to exprefs the fhare I took in her grief. The following night I saw, with j Joy, that the had approved my homage ; the poppies were watered; and fhe had set at a little distance from the tomb a new bas, ket of fruits, Pity and gratitude gave me courage: yet not daring to speak to her as a paria, for fear of fhocking and displeasing her; I at- tempted, asa man, to exprefs to her all the affection which fhe caused to spring up in my soul According to the practice of the Indies, to “make myselt understood, I borrowed the language of flowers, Tothe poppies I added marigoids*. The following night 1 found my pop. pies and marigolds well watered: The night after, I became still boider ; I added to the poppies and marigolds, sumach, which tanners use to dye their leather black, as the exprefsion of my humbje and unhappy pafsion. Next morning after the dawn, [ran to the tomb. but T saw the sumach quite withered, for it had not been watered, * The same word signifies either marigold or care. 1793. the Indian cottage, a tale. 15L The following night trembling I pat down a tulip; its red leaves and black heart exprefsed the fires which consumed mine. Next day I found my tulip in the same state with the sumach. I was greatly dise treised ; however on the morrow I brought a rose bud with its prickles, “as the symbol of my hopes, accompanied with many fears. But what was my despair when with the first return of the early dawn, I saw my rose bud far from the tomb ! [thought I fhould have lost my reason ,Whatever might happen I resolved to speak to her. Next night as soon as fhe appeared, I threw myself at her feet. But I was quite de- prived of the powers of utterance while I presented my rose. She re- plied, “‘ Unfortunate man, thou talkest to me of love, whilst in 2 fhort time I fhall be no more.. Like my mother I must accompany to the funeral pile my hufband just now dead. He was advanced in years: I was wedded to him when a child: adieu ! retire and forget me: in three days nothing will remain of me but a httle afhes.”” While speak- ing these words fhe sighed. For my part, pierced with grief, 1 said to her, ‘ Unhappy Brahminefs, nature has bruken asunder the bandS that united thee to society ; break instantly those of superstitior also. You can do this by taking me for your hufband.’ “* What, replied the weeping, fhould I escape death to live with thee in thy disgrace! Ah» if thou lovest me, leave me to die.” ‘ God forbid, cried I, that I fhould draw you from the evils into which you are about to plunge yourself enly to plunge you in mine: dear Brahminefs, let us flee to the depth of the forest, it is much safer to trust to tigers than to men. But that God in whom I trust, he will not forsake us. Let us flee: love, the night, thy unhappy situation, thy innocence, every ‘thing favour us. Let us make haste, unfortunate widow, already the funeral pile is preparing for thee, and thy dead hufband calls thee thither. Poor fallen vine, support thyself on me, I fhall be thy palm tree’ Here Sighing fhe cast a look on her mother’s tomb, then towards heaven, and letting one of her hands fall into mine, with the other the took my rose. Instantly I took hold of her arm, and we set out. J threw her veil into the Ganges, to make her relations think that the had drowned herself. We travelled several nights along the banks of the tiver, concealing ourselves in fields of rice by day. At last wearrived in this part of the country, which war had formerly laid waste. I pierced into the heart of this wood, where I built this hut, and plane ted a little garden. ‘We live here very happily ; I revere my wife like the sun, and I love her like the moon. In tiis solitude we are to each ether all the werld. We are indeed despised by the world, but as 152 \ tecorréspondents. eg Sept. 234° we have a mutualesteem for each other, the praises I give her, or those I receive from her, seem sweeter than the applause of a nation.” ‘Speaking these words he cast a look on his child in the cradle, and another on his wife who was fhedding tears of joy. * To be continued. To CoRRESPONDENTS. Tue communication by Cyiticws is thankfully received ; and fhall - be inserted with the first convenience. It is rather longith. The same thing will apply to Aldegoriea, with this difference, that it is fuorter. ; The observations of a City Traveller, are also received. It would be well if all travellers would make as good use of their opportunities of observation. It is a great many months since ” E. sent notice that he was to transmit an efsay on a day specified ; the day is long since past. Lest it may have been sent and lost by the way, the Editor takes this mode of informing him that it has never come to his hand. It probably often happens that the Editor is thus accused vf neglecting correspon- ents without aky blame on his part. The elegant translation of Lomonolsot’s beautiful oraticn on Peter the great is received, and fhall appear as soon as circumstances will ermit. "The Editor acknowledzes with fame on his part, that he had very inadvertently mislaid the first communication by H. £. having put it by till he fiould get an opportunity of making the necefsary in- quiries; which not having been abie to do very soon, it entirely escap- ed his notice. His second favour ts received. The seeds inclosed are not in the least of the nature of the Botany Bay plant which was mis- taken for a pine. Those sent were often brought trom India and Chi- na before botany Bay was discovered. They are employed for the purpose of marking linens in the east Indies, and make a very durable black stain that does not burnthe cloth. It is an object well wor- thy of farther illustration. - It is amazing this fruit in quantities never fhould have been brought to Europe as an article of traffic, for it might certainly be apphed to some valuable uses in arts. ‘ . 7? : . . #4 * The plate that accompanizs this number is the fourth in the series of Rufsian weep &c. and is doscribed, Bee, vol. xv1, p. 312. Fic. 1 and 2, horas of agogrus, or wild goat. Tig. 3, hora of the Siberian Ibex. 148 THE BEE, OR LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGNCER; FOR WEDNESDAY, OcTOBER 2. 1793 THOUGHTS ON WHAT IS CALLED VARIETIES, OR DIF= FERENT BREEDS OF DOMESTIC ANIMALS, SUGGEST= ED BY READING DR PALLAS’s ACCOUNT OF RUSSIAN SHEEP. : Continued from p. 124. Ox the other hand. Is there any thing inconsis~ tent with that wisdom and beneficence so universal- ly conspicuous in the system of this universe, or any thing that contradicts the general experience of mankind, and the facts that fall under his observa- tion, in adopting the hypothesis, that a diversity of animals may have been originally formed with discriminative faculties and propensities fitted for the various purposes required of them in the gene- tal system, and separated trom each other, though not by unsurmountable barriers, yet by such pecu- liar propensities as might serve to preserve the kinds sufficiently distinct to answer all the purposes ree VOL, XVii. v t 154 on varieties of domestic animals. Oct. %. quired ofthem? The different breeds of dogs, for ex- ample, though not prevented by any physical bar- rier from intermingling, are yet so distinctly sepa- rated from each other by certain peculiarities, as na- turally to induce one clafs to afsociate together, in a state of freedom, in preference to others. .The hound, for example, would naturally afsociate with other hounds who pursued the game, at a slow pace, by the sense of smelling, in preference to any o- ther clafs of dogs. Should a grehound encroach upon this_pack, he would so often destroy the game, and eat it before their approach, that they would -find it necefsary for their own preservation to drive him away, or tear him in pieces. Grehounds would as naturally afsociate with other grehounds for the same reason of mutual convenience; and so of other varieties. Thus would a distinction be formed, which in a state of nature would tend to preserve the several breeds uncontaminated. This purpose would be still strengthened by the acquain- “tance formed by. the young of each tribe, with the mother and. others of the same kind, with whom they were accustomed to afsociate from their infancy, and with whom we know they preserve habits of in- timacy and kindnefs through life. These few par- ticulars, without taking notice of many others, (as the size, which alone would effectually prevent ma- ny of the breeds from ever intermingling, ) are suf- ficient to fhow, that ina state of nature, the diffe- _aent varieties of the same species of animals might be preserved distinct perhaps for ever. In fhort we do actually know of two instances where the breeds 1793: on varieties of domestic animals. E55 of two pure varieties of animals have bcen preserv- ed since the creation of the world till the present hour, distinct from all others of the same kind, and uncontaminated in a wild state, merely by the pe-~ culiar instincts with which they are naturally en- dowed. These are the wolf and the fox, which though ranked by Buffon, and most other natura~ lists, as distinct species, are now proved, by the most decisive experiments, conducted under the eye of the ingenious Mr John Huater of London, to be only varieties of the dog kind, which may be brought to intercopulate with others of the same species, and by that means produce a mongrel breed, participating as usual of the qualities of both parents, and equal- ly prolific as others of the same kind.* In regard to fheep, the varieties of this useful clafs of animals seem to be considerable, and theic natural propensities so discriminated as to be admi- tably calculated for adapting them to different situ- ations on this globe, so as to make them a very Us niversal inhabitant of it: and these are so diversi- fied as to habits and imstincts, as to preserve the principal breeds very distinct, if left in a state of mature. The argali, strong, active, nimble, de- lights to live among rocks and inaccefsible places ; while the large sluggifh breed of fheep, such as those * Vide Philosophical Transactions, Anno, 1792, and miscellaneous efsays by Mr John Hunter, 4to 1793. London. The same able natu- ralist has obtained a prolific breed between the common cow and buffalo; which affords another proof of the fact specified in the text, This will be more particularly mentioned in a future paper. - : 156 on varieties of domestic anunats. Oct. 20 that have been taken into keeping by our country- man, Bakewell, could never ascend these steeps, but are well calculated to consume the produce of the fertile plains ; there is therefore no chance that these two breeds would ever intermingle, if left entirely to themse!ves. The /ast of these two varieties has indeed been long domesticated by man, as being utterly incapable of withdrawing itself from his sway, though the first has been able to preserve its independence till the present hour in some of the mountainous and least inhabited districts on the globe. These two are perhaps the most Opposite exe tremes of the varieties of fheep ; others are separated by lefser distinctions. The small nimble light bo- died fheep like those of Shetland, being capable of undergoing much travel, are fitted for open hilly astures, where a wide range is necefsary before y they can pick up a scanty subsistence ; these are therefore to be found chiefly in barren regions, thinly inhabited by man, where of course they enjoy afreedom approaching towards the state of wildnefs ; ; while the weightier fat rumped fheep of Asia, require a richer pasture, and plants of more luxuriant growth. Thus the different breeds would naturally separate from each other ; ; and being once separated, that desire which all gregarious animals, at least, have to afsociate with those of their acquaintance in preference to all o- thers, would keep them so distinct as never to be in danger of losing the breed, while left to them, selves. oh es | 1793- on varieties of domestic animals. 157 It is unnecefsary here to pursue this disquisition through a more minute investigation of particulars. But it is of importance to take particular notice of a: very ingenious remark of Dr Pallas, as it tends to fhow the immense powerconferred upon man by the creator for the melioration of the objects put within his reach, and adapting them for the particular purposes he may _ have in view for his own emolument ; if he chooses, by a patient steadinefs of conduct, to properly avail himself of those faculties that heaven has conferred upon him; and accounts for some particular diversi- ties of animals not before enumerated. Dr Pallas in the foregoing efsay has brought to- gether many facts which tend to fhow, that although any one vartety of domestic animals, if kept free from intermixing with any other variety of the same species, will in general, propagate the same kind with littie material change, yet that if from unknown or ac cidental causes, an individual fhall be produced pof- sefsing some unusual peculiarities, that individual has - a tendency to produce others resembling itself in a certain degree, even in its individual peculiarities ; so that if a male and female fhould at the same time be met with, which both pofsefsed the same kind of individual peculiarity, these, if made to breed: together, will produce a distinct breed, which will, by hereditary descent, render in some degree permanent, that peculiarity which was at first acci- dental; and this effect will be rendered the more certain, if care be takenvat all times to separate from the breeding stock those individuals which chance / 258- om varieties of domestic animals. Oct. 26. to pofsefs the distinguifhable peculiarity in a lefs eminent degree than the others, . Now, although every breed of animals preserves in general its distinguifhing peculiarities with little variation, yet these accidental deviations when con- joined with the peculiarity of their becoming in some measure hereditary by a careful selection, put it in the power of an attentive observer, to make prodi- gious improvements upon the domestic animals that are under his immediate care, and thus give room to permanent changes that never could have been experienced if the animals had continued in a state of nature. Let us suppose, for example, that the breed of fheep of which a man at first obtained pofsefsion, contained in general some hairs among the wool, and that he found these hairs were not fitted for the par- ticular uses he meant to make of that wool. He would soon observe that the fleece of some transient individuals in the flock containad lefs of that hair than the others. These individuals he selects to breed from. The wool of all their descendants of course contains much ‘efs hairsin it, than the gene- ral mafs of the original fheep. Here then is one amelioration in consequence of attention, that never could, have taken place in a wild state, because the peculiarty of the individual fheep would have been soon blended with the general mafs, and lost in consequence of a promiscuous intercopula- tion. A purer wool being thus obtained; by the same kind of attention continued, thotgh another transi- -3793- on varieties of domestic animals. 159 ent individual might in time appear, perhaps with a more hairy fleece than the improved parent stock, it would of course be banifhed fromthe breed ; and when another individual, with still purer wool might be produced, this one being again selected to breed from, occasions an additional refinement. In this way it might happen that in course of time, by a con- tinued care, a fheep might at last be found, among the wool of which there were no hairs at all; and this also being selected would afford a breed with wool entirely free from hair, unlefs upon an acci- dental individual, which would of course be separa~ ted from the breeding stock whenever it appear. ed*, * A singular instance of the powerful tendency that animafs in a state of nature have to preserve the separate varieties distinct, o¢- curs in regard to the Shetland breed of theep, so justly celebrated for the unequalled softnefs of its pile, and brilliancy of its colour. In the Shetland isles, though the fheep are not entirely in a wild state, they are so nearly so, as scarcely to deserve the name of a domestic animal, and suffer no other effect from the care of the owner than those which tend to deteriorate the breed ; yet in spite of these efforts to debase it, continued for ages, there are still remains of that breed tolerably pure in that place. The measures that have been taken to debase it are as under: 1. Foreign breeds, producing hard coarse wool, have been often in- troduced into these isles. But the nimble active native theep, fre. quenting in geneyal the more desolate wilds at the greatest distance from the dwellings of the natives, in some measure withdraw them- selves from the others, like the Tartar Nomades from the Rufsian peae sants, and thus get the breed only partially debased by accidental stragglers. 2. Asthe natives scarcely look at their fheep save once a year, and do not fheer the wool, but gather it.szpon the heath as it falls from the animal ig handfuls, they have had no opportunity of remark- 160 on varieties of domestic animals. — Oct. %- By a similar procefs, the colour, the jinene/s, the length, the softnefs, the crispine/s, the lanknefs, or any Other peculiarity of wool might be greatly im- ing the great improvements that may be made by a selection of the best sort for breeders; and therefore have never attempted to make such a selection, 3: In consequence of their ignorance of this peculiarity they have bestowed no care in the choice of their rams, so that no other rule has been adopted in the choice of rams but a kind of necefsity. At the time of castrating the ram lambs it often happens that one or both the testicles have not then desce ded into the scrotum, so that the gelding of such being more difficult and dangerous than the othefs, -to save that trouble and avoid that danger, all these ridgelingss, as they are called, are left to be rams, without regard to the quality e their wool or other properties. 4. But they do not stop here. Though the natives are ignorant of the powerful tendency with which animals are naturally endowed to pérpetuate the peculiarities of the parents by breeding, they know well that if the same individual once carries a fleece of fine wool, it will continue to do so all its life; and as the finest of that weol is much prised,—when any person finds a lamb having a very fine fleece, he is anxious to preserve the property of it to himself as long as pof- sible: but as thg theep are allowed to roam very much at large, they have observed that. the rams are in much greater danger of straying from the parent flock at the rutting season than the castrated fheep ; and as these stragglers are often ndt recovered to the owner, he thus loses the fine fleece which he values somuch. To guard against this dreaded evil, he is at great pains to see that all the ram lambs that have fine fleeces be carefully geldeds Thus does he yerify in good. earnest the old fable of Esop, and actually kills the goose for the sake of its golden egg: There isnot perhaps upon record such a striking instance to be found of the powerful tendency of nature to preserve 2 breed, in spite of the efforts of art to destroy it, as this very case af- fords. The conduct of these persons however appears to be so very extraordinary, that while I thus state it with impartiality, Iam for- ced to appeal to thousands of people now living for the truth of it, lest jt might be supposed to be a mere fabrication of my own. 1793: on varieties of domestic animals. + 166 proved, and considerable alterations be made in the fhape, appearance, and other peculiarities of the fheep> without the smallest alteration of the parent breed? or intermixture with others. In this way lefser va~ riations may be produced, which may constitute a kind of artificial varieties of fheep. And it is pro- bable, that this circumstance being observed has giv- en rise to Buffon’s notion, that a// the varieties we perceive in thé same species must have been obtained in time from one individual. But it deserves here to be well remarked, that ‘variations of this sort, ne- ver could have taken place zm a state of nature, so as to produce any thing like a general change. In re- gard to this particular we may truly say, that ‘ all is the gift of industry ;” for without the fostering hand of man, the blefsing which heaven intended for him would have been lost. The distinguifhed particular would have been suffered to die with the individual, as its peculiarities would immediately have been blended promiscuously in the general mafs.* * Should it ever happen, that the beaver fhall come under the power of man, it is not impofsible, but the fur of that animal might, by attention and selection, be greatly meliorated. In its present state there are many long and stiff hairs, interspersed through the fine soft fur of that animal, which must be separated from that fur, before it can be applied to any use. This isa very troublesome operation, and the best méthod that has hitherto been adopted for effecting this, is to allow the Indians to wear these furs as garments, until the stiff hairs, which loosen hefore the fine fur, gradually disappear; by this procef, the fine fur is nrach worn also. But were men enabled to select such beavers for breeding apart, as chanced to have lefs of this hairy in their fleece than usual, it would gradually become thinner, and by the same care continued, might ia time perhaps entirely disappear. But the beaver seems to be too thy an animal to afford any probability VOL. xvil, x t 162 on delays in the court of Sefsion. Oct. 2. ON THE DELAYS INCIDENT TO THE COURT Or SESssION. To the Lord President of the Court of Sefsione LETTER Iv. My Lorp, Tr might be too violent a change to fhorten the in- ducie or days of citation, and alter the méde of bring- ing an action into court by tabling, calling, outgiv= ‘ that it ever can be domesticated, and therefore we are not to look for eny improved varieties of this, more than of other wild animals. The same mode might be taken to improve the wool of the vicuna, a small species of the camel tribe, which affords the fine wool called laine de vigogne, or vigonia wool, which also abounds with coarse hairs like that of the beaver; and as this animal can easily be domesticated, and is known to live in the cold climate of Aranjuez in Spain, could its fleece be once purified from the hairs that now de- base it, that creature might in time become a valuable addition to the stock of domestic animals in Europe. This mode of improvement may be applied to vegetables, as well as to animals; with great benefit to the public, and advantage to indivi- duals. Having observed that the different plants of the sarte Kinds of kidney beans vary from each other exceedingly, in regard to their pro- lificacy, I was very desizous of saving some seeds this season from some of the most and of the least prolific plants in the same bed, to sow them apart, and observe the result ; but unfortunately, they were gas thered without my knowledge, so as to mar the experiment for a year. Having mentioned this circumstance, with regret; to a very attentive gardener, he afsured me that the same circumstance had struck him long ago, and that he had tried the experiment, and said it neven failed that the seeds produced from the most prolific plants always af- ferded by much the most abundant crop, though there was even a- mong these a considerable diversity in particular plants; but by & 2793- on delays in the court of Sefsion. 163 ing, return, and inrollmest. As our habits and attention are formed to these, it will perhaps be bet- ter to preserve them unaltered. But if a condescen~ dence be not lodged within a fortnight, I think the cause fhould go to be advised as it stands; and that the same thing may safely take place as to answers, replies, and duplies. The clerks and their afsistants might be ordained to mark the date of lodg- ing on each of these papers ; and there fhould be an absolute prohibition against receiving one pa- per of them after the fourteenth day is run. If such a regulation were made, these papers would no more be received after the days, than a represen- tation could after the interlocutor becomes final. The debate fhould be pretty full when it comes the length of duplies, which ought, I think, to be the last ‘paper allowed of. But here a difficulty occurs. The respondent often makes some production along with his duplies ; and it would be laying the conde- scender under a disadvantage if he were not to see the constant selection in this way, he thinks perhaps the produce might be prodigiously augmented. I had occasjon to take notice, Bee vol. vi. p. 96. that another at- tentive gentleman, had, by the same mode of selection, obtained a vat Tiety of pease much more early than the common ; and no doubt by an equal degree of care, other valuable peculiarities might be in- — creased. Another gentleman of my acquaintance having about a dozen yearS ago thus selected some ears of wheat of a peculiarly fine quality, has ob" tained a.variety, which by a continuance of the same care , now yields him a crop which he is confident, in equal circumstances, will be ia : general worth two guineas per acre more than if he had taken his seed atrandom. ‘This opens up a wide field for the attentive and industri-™ 948 im prover ! ; 164 on delays in the court of Sefsion. Oct. 2. production before it goes to be advised. To remedy this, both parties might be ordained to bring for- ward their facts, and make their productions, along with their condescendence and answers: and all new productions after the answers are lodged, m»ght be absolutely prohibited; and if any new document fhould afterwards come to the knowledge of either party, it might be produced along with a representa- tion or an answer, as the case may be. I would not have the days to stop even for the recove- ry of a paper out of the hands ofa third party; ndr m- deed to admit of any interruption more than the re- presenting days: for if they are once found capable of interruption, things will soon revert into their old channel of delay. And if a party be thus taken fhort by a strict adherence to rule, the benefit can be reserved to him of any action he may choose to bring afterwards, upon the uarecovered deed. In the case of orders to produce a writing, it is obvious that the time for production cannnot in'every case be limited toa fortnight. The document may not always be athand. It may be in the East or West In- dies, or perhaps a-mifsing or lost. Such orders must therefore be left to the discretion of the judge, that he may allow a week or a year, to produce it, as most expedient. But after the time allowed by him is once expired, I would not have it in the power of the judge himself to give any renewal of the order; but only to reserve action to the party supposed to suffer from the want of the deed. When litigants are once aware of such precision, they will bestir themselves i 1903. art of life,—in cultivation of habits. 165 much more than they wouid, if any renewel could be hoped for. it is no uncommon thing, to have the one party ordained to produce a writing that is favourable for the other. In sucha case the party ordained, ‘may 40 doubt elude the order till the time expires ; but still J would not put it in the power of the judge to renew the order, but, let the cause goto be advised as it stands, so as the judge may give an interlocutor, ac- cording to the circumstances of the case, either pre- suming against the party ordaimed, for not producing, or reserving action to the other party, for exhibition and consequences. Perhaps in this instance the prin- ciple of necefsity and precision is carriedtoo far. if so, the proposition can no where be safer than under your Lordfhip’s consideration. I fhall afterwards have occasion to mention several things that are equally worthy of your notice, as equally requiring a remedy, and not more easily provided for. ~ I am &c. . LEntTUutUus. FRAGMENTS OF LORD BACON. Art of life, in the cultivation of such habitudes, as ' terminate in an amiable, tranquil, and respectable old age. For the Bee. Continued from vol. xvi. p. 169. *** * Tn rney years, (reckoning from the attain- ment cf man’s estate,) a man may have a deep gust of the world, know what it is, what it can afford, and what it is to have been a man, 166 = art of life,—in cultivation of habits. Oct. 2, Such a latitude of years holdeth a considerable cor= ner in the map of genera! history, especially if we count that only which is fully authentick, and fitted by the multiplicity of annals, to let us truly see the character of our kinde in that of our forefathers. Thus a man may have a fhort epitome of the whole course of time in the daves of his own life, and clears ly see that he hath but acted over again the drama of his predecefsors, and what sort of thing living will be’ in all ages to. come. In every stage or period of a man’s pilgrimage u-+ pon earth, he looketh intently and with eagernefs u- pon some fhining point at a distance, and is ballanced in his progrefsion by some weight of glory, or phan- tasm of pleasure, that cometh upon’ his imagination, his memory, or his judgement, and guideth his energy, or his ambition, or his prudence. At the termination of these vistas, he figureth to himself, and setteth forth in romantick and gawdy fiction, places of rest and quiet delight, where he fhall turmoil himself no more with the pursuit of the vain and transient objects of hu- man ambition, but enjoy the calm delights of retires ment from bustle and businefs, speculate upon the past, and prepare for the prize that he flatters him, self with at the end of his career. This is an admirable ordination of eternal provi- dence, in the spurring of a man’s journey, in the steep and asperous roads through which he hath to pafs o: to climb, in the eventful course from the crag dle to the grave. No sooner hath he artived by the direction of a’ brilliant point, to that which he supposed to bea seat 1793. art of life,—in cultivation of habits. 167 of rest, and of quietnefs, than another point, and one (perhaps) still more brilliant and fascinating than the former, is presented to his view. He again prefses fors ward, and wonders at himself that he fhould have mistaken a bench upon the road for a magnificent and comfortable inn. Now as man is a lazy animal, in common with all other creatures, this activity and predominancy of his imagination giveth him the mastery of every thing upon earth, and singularly distinguifheth him from the brutes, which is beautifully described by Longinus in his treatise concerning the sublime. s¢ We are well afsured (sayeth he) that nature hath not intended man for a low spirited or ignoble being: but bringing us into life, and into the midst of this wide universe, as before an immense multitude afsem- bled at some heroick solemnity, that we might be spectators of all her magnificence, and candidates high in emulation for the prize of glory, fhe has implant. ed in our souls an unextinguilhable love of every thing that appeareth divine beyond our comprehen- sion.” + Certainly therefore it is of high account in this our art of life, to change the object, but not to sub- due the principle of this ambition, which: fer wise purposes hath been implanted in our nature. But as the vigour of our bodies and the energy of our ima- gination and memory decline, to cultivate the de- lights that arise from reflection and judgement, and te be chearfully entertained with the view of others + Longinus de Sublim. §; xxxivs . xs.) 368, art of life.—-in cultivation of habits. -Octi 2. younger than ourselves deceiving themselves inno- cently, agreeably, and perhaps usefully, as we ours selves had done heretofore. It is to the defect of this desireable quality and ha- bitude, that most of the troubles of declining years, may be imputed ; and certainly there can be no better way of eschewing them, than by calling forth our im- _ proved powers of reflection and judgement, to the cultivation and pursuit of such things as do not fhock or interfere with those that occupy the ambition of our more active competitors, to culitvate acquain- tance with worthy young men, especially those whose fa- thers we have esteemed, and to cherish them in all hoy nourable advances in the paths we have been forced by infirmity of nature to relinqui/b. To delineate the most proper occupations for de- clining years, would be vain and foolifh; without due consideration being had to the employments of youth, and of manhood, in the particular case to which we would direct our admonitions ; and there= fore these must vary according to the infinite variety of fortune, genius, former occupation, climate, go-, vernment, and custom. But certaiaiy there can be nothing better for attaining such habitudes as termi- nate in an amiable, tranquil, and respectable old age, than the disentangling of ourselves, as we have alrea- dy said, from such objects of ambition as are incom- patible with our growing weaknefs of body, and at- taching ourselves to such as may fully exercise the. powers of our memory and judgement, and produce that gentle agitation of body and of mind, in exerci~ tation and study, that is’ most conducive uato general sanity and coafort, ~ 1793- art of life,—in cultivation of habits. 169 On this occasion Icannot do better than cite a paf- sage which Cicero hath put into the mouth of the el- der Cato, that deserveth as much attention for its so- lidity and good sense, as it doth praise for the beauty and accuracy of stile in which it is delivered. *s If, sayeth he, petulance or lust be vices more frequent among young men than old, yet all young men are not infected with them, but such only as ‘want proper talents ; so it is with that sort of distem~ per which you call dotage ; which is indeed the dis- ease of old men, but to whieh all old men are not subjected. Appius was for some years quite blind, and yet he managed a family of four sons grown up, and five daughters, with abundance of relations and -elients, who depended upon him. He kept his mind always in order, and though his vigour decayed, yet his senses never failed him. He preserved to the last moment his character and his authority: every body looked up to him as became their station: his slaves feared, his children revered, and all who were a- bout him loved him. Ina word he kept up the.old discipline, and did honour to the Roman name, by preserving the. manners of his family untainted. Thus it is, that old age may maintain a graceful su. periority, if it be prudently jealous of its prerogative: if on all occafions it maintains its rights : if it never sneaks and gives way, but keeps up a manly spirit to the last: for as I approve some qualities of age in a young man, so a youthful spirit is very commend- able in men of years, for which they preserve this, ~ VoL. xvii, ¥ + ‘ 170 -art of life,—in cultivation of habits. Oct. ¥ - though the body may feel the effects of age, yet the mind stands out of its reach. «© At this very instant, I am Antal in writing - the seventh book of my-antiquities, and.am actually making large collections from such old records as may serve my purpose. I likewise review, and ‘sometimes touch afre(h the orations I have former- ly made in the capital causes wherein I have beea concerned. I still kept up my stock of knowledge in the augurial pontifical, and civil law, and have time enough to read a great deal of Greek be- sides. ‘¢ T constantly use the Pythagorean method for the exercise of my memory, and every evening run o- ver in my mind whatever J] have said, heard, or ‘done, that day. These are the exercises of the un- derstanding ; and in these as in a chariot, the soul takes the air. While I am capable of these, I do not give myself much concern about the “decay of my body ; I am always at the command of my friends when I am able; I attend the service of the. senate frequently, and distinguith in debates, where- in a man compafseth more by strength of judgement, than he can do elsewhete by strength of arms. But fhould it ever prove my misfortune to be confined to my bed, and be thereby rendered incapable of going through these employments, yet the very thoughts of what I would do if I were able, would console me. But thanks to Heaven, I have no rea- so to apprehend any such thing ; I have been a bet- ter hufband of my time than so, for let a man be but ie £73) ont of li, ifey—in cultivation of Babits. 542 constantly. exercised in labours like these, and he will not soon find the breaches of age. Years will steal upon him insensibly ; he will grow old by degrees and without feeling it ; nay, when he comes tb break at last the house will crumble gently, and fall down _so slowly as not to give him any great uneasinefs.” Thus has the master of Roman eloquence delight- fully examplified in Cato, the advantage that arises from continuing those exercises of the memory and judgement, in which manhood had formerly been oc- cupied, without the dangerous fervor of, imaginati- on, or too much activity either of body or of mind ; and although every man in ‘age must be regulated in his’ amusement, by the bent of his genius, and the fund of his former experience, yet in the inno- cent, healthful, and useful occupations of agricul. ture and gardening, it would seem that every man, let his condition have been whatsoever, will find great €ontentment and advantage ; and it is in the uniform variety united to simplicity that much of this plea. sure consists, as the cultivated mind will evidently perceive in the affectionate reception which he giveth ‘to the unadorned and simple description of the Co- tycian swain, the old man of virgils tv Georgic, with which I fhall conclude my present lucubration.* # Now where with stately towers Tarentum stands, And deep Galesus soaks the yellow sands, I chanc’d an old Corycian swain to know, Lord of few acres, and these barren too; Unfit for theep or vines, and more unfit to sow: _ * The latin quototion is omitted om account of our general read~ ers, and the translation by Dryden, is substituted in its place, Edit, 172 on the generation of fifbes: Oct. 2. Yet lab’ring well his little spot of ground, Some scatt’ring pot herbs here and there he found : Which, cultivated with his daily care, And bruis’d with vervain, were his frugal fare. Sometimes white lilies did their leaves afford, With wholesome poppie flowers to mend his homely board For late returning home he sup’d at ease, And wisely deem’d the wealth of monarchs lefs, i Than little of his own, decause his own did please. To quit his care, he gather’d first of all, In spring the roses, apples in the fall: And when cold winter split the rocks in twain, And ice the running rivers did restrain, He stript the bears foot of its leafy growth, And, calling western winds, accus’d the spring of sloth. He therefore first among the swains was found, To reap the product of his,labour’d ground, i And squeese the combs with golden liquor crown’d. His limes were first in flower, his lofty pines, With friendly, fhade, secur’d his tender vines. For ev’ry bloom his trees in spring afford, An autumn apple was by tale restor’d ; He knew to rank his elms in even rows, For fruit the grafted pear tree to dispose : t And tame to plumbs the sournefs of the sloes, With spreading planes he made a cool retreat, To fhade good fellows from the summer’s heat. . INTELLIGENCE FROM INDIA. in the xi. volume of the Bee, p.89.was given 4n account of some very singular facts respecting the generation of fifhes in India, which _ appeared so extraordinary as to require farther elucidation before they could be admitted as certain. The Editor indeed has recei- ved letters since that time from’persons who said they had been in India, flatly contradicting the whole account. The fol-~ lowing communication from Madras, received by the King George East Indiaman, will afford some satisfaction to our readers on’ this very curious subject. i The other subjects mentioned in this communication are-equally cu- rious and interesting. 1793 on the generation of fifbes. "73 FARTHER ELUCIDATIONS RESPECTING THE SUDDEN GENERATION OF FISHES IN INDIA, FROM A COR- RESPONDENT aT Mapras. | For the Bee. WE were not surprised at reading your paper on the generation of fifhes,-we every day hear similar ac- counts ; but when we endeavour to trace them to their source, vain is the attempt, Like many other stories they have pafsed current so long as to be believed ; and the great quantities of small fith that are found during the monsoon so universally over the tace of the country, and on such elevated spots-as are never overflowed by riversor reservoirs of water, seemingly give probability to them ; and the appearance of fith'of considerable magnitude, two or three inches long, that are caught in streams from high grounds, induce ma- ny to believe that they must have fallen from the heavens; for no fish could have existed there be fore. ‘ . That fifh are found wherever there is standing or running water, and frequently on very high ground, is most true; but that fifh are fourd on the tops of houses,,1 must have occular demonstration to believe. The instance you mention as oceurring at St. Thomas’s Mount, was not I believe on the ‘top of 2 house, but on the high ground there, which equally astonifhed those that saw it. Mankind are fond of the marvellous, and always improve such stories. I have not paid much attention to this subject, but believe there is nothing wonderfyl in what we gene~ 294 on the generation of. “A bes. Ott. dr rally see. During the monsoon, the torrents of rain are so heavy, that there is a stream of running water over the whole face of the country; the grafs, that then grows lusuriantly, keeps up an inch or more of running water on the highest grounds. From the eagernefs with which I have seen fith endeavour to ascend running streams, and from having frequently ‘seen them make their way through wet grafs, I am convinced that all the fifh of any magnitude, that ap- pear at the commencement of the rains, come from the sea by the rivers, that are soon filled; for none I believe are correct enough as to time, to say that thete was not water running into the sea, by which they might ascend; and that it is only after having got to the highest grounds that the fifh are caught in nets plated at the bottom of the descending streams. The natives believe that these immense quantities of fifh are produced from the eggs of fith deposited in the mad; and they afsert that they mud of any tank, if put in water, will produce fifh. Some mud that has been brought me gives great probability to this opi- nion ; for it is full of eggs.. I have forwarded a lit. tle to your correspondent ia London. They say that these eggs are not destroyed although exposed to the burning rays of thé sun for months.* I am trying some just now taken froma tank that has been dry % This is a very curious fact, and deserves to be ascertained with care. The mud is not yet come to hand, but when it does experiments thall be tried with it. In the mean while we are to hope that our Correspondents in India will prosecute this subject. Edit. oe * 3793° Jifees caught on trees. 176 above fix weeks. If it succeeds I have no doubt that what I have/sent will produce fith ; for I hope you will receive it before the period of our monsoon. It is not necef.ary however to suppose that the eggs are exposed to much heat, for as the mud dries, it cracks, andthey may be preserved in the fifsures: It is -pofsible also, that the fifh may bury themselves in the soft mud, when they deposit their eggs; for our freth water fifh can live in little water, and even in mud. The filh that are generally caught in the paddy (rice) fields, are not confined to one species. I have hada list of above twenty given me, that are known to those I spoke to; most of which are frefh water fith.t _ But this mode of producing fifh will not aécount for their sudden appearance of considerable size at the very commencement of the rains; I must therefore still believe they come from the sea. Fith are fre. quently carried to tanks and put in wells ; as the na- tives know they are useful in purifying wee by de- vouring the filth. ids 3 a singular fifh caught on trees. I was in hopes of sending you along with this, ade- scription of a fith, a species of pike, that will lefsen your astonifhment at the idea of finding fifhin the highest situatiors, when this-is found on the tops of trees. This specics ef pike has been discovered by a lieutenant Dalderff a very ingenious Dane, and learn~ ed in all the branches oi aturai history. This fith, with the afsiftance of two hooks on its breast fins, makes a dart through the stream of water falling from the leaves and running down the trunk of the padmira, . i This list will prove very acceptable. Edi‘. 246 legerdeytain with serpents. Oct. 2 borafsus flabeliiformis ; and there maintaining itself by its hooks, it makes similar darts against the descend- ing stream, in search of insects, till it reaches the top. This is all the information I can give you at pre- sent on the subject -of fifh, I will endeavour soon to ascertain what I have proposed. | 4 curious specres of legerdematn respecting serpents. To thow you how easily a person my be deceived, Iwill, give youan anecdote of myself. Soon after my ar- rival here, when I was amused by the slight of hand tricks, tumbling, rope dancing &c. in which a pasti- cular cast of natives are very expert ; these people, who carry about snakes, and pretend to have authori- ty over them, came to’ me and told me that they would catch, by the power of music, as many snakes as | chose. I was a good deal surprised at what they said, and resolved to putit to the test. One of them went a little way from the house, playing on a . pipe and uttering incantations, saying that if the snake would come to him he would treat it well, give it butter milk, and send it to the mountains where it would not be molested; he then pretend- ed to look very attentively at a hole, still conti- nuing to play, and louder ; when by and by he saw a snake, and catiou sly introducing his hand, brought ont a large cobra de capella, coliber naga. In this way he caught two or three close by the honse. I then carried him to different parts of the garden; and he caught so many that I at last thought I had proof positive. Soon after I had brought them to the house, Dr Anderson came home: and on hearing 1 what I believed, in .consequence, he desired me to 1493. reading memorandums. 144 tolook at their mouths, when lo all their poisonous fangs had been pulled out, and the little poison that was in their mouths was of a whitifh colour and harmlefs, from the milk diet the snakes had been fed on, instead of that high red colour it is of when in their native state. The fellow then confefsed, when we threaten- ed to kill all his snakes as dangerous, that he had deposited most of them in different parts where he thought it was likely I fhould go. Some wild ones however he caught that were not of a poisonous na~ ture ; but that is easily done, for if a snake is seen, by siezing it by the tail with one hand, and running the other close.to the head, they can secure the most dangerous with safety. Now the opinion of fith be- _ing charmed by music is very ancient, and as much believed as that of fith falling from the heavens. Aan Be READING MEMORANDUMS. > Ler us pay an absolute submifsion to the will of God, in all the dispensations of his providence, and to all the rules of natural and revealed religion, without endeavouring vainly to discover the reasons of his determinations, or prying into final causes, most of _ which, to our limited capacity, are inscrutable. It is our businefs to live virtuously and happily in the world, and not to attempt the discovery of how or when it was formed into its present situation. This is a tree of forbidden knowledge, the.search after which has discovered the nakednefs of all our phile. gophers. VoL. xvii, Zz LITERARY OLLA. No. x For the Bee. Gray the Poet,—.A dialogue concerning Youth, To D***d Mette, [LRREKK g —‘ The insect youth are on the wing, Eager to taste the honied spring, . And float amid the liquid noon: Some lightly o’er the current fkim, Some thew their gaily. gilded trim, Quick glancing to the sun. * To contemplation’s sober eye, Such is the race of man: And they that creep and they that fly, Shall end where they began.’ , Alike the busy and the gay, But flutter thro’ life’s little day, : In fortune’s varying colours drest : - Bruth’d by the hand of rough mischance, Or chill’d by age their airy dance, They leave, in dust to rest,’ ’ These, (nephew!) with other charming lines of the excellent Gray, were sent inclosed in a letter to his ace complifhed and beloved young friend Wesr, the son of _ the lord chancellor of Ireland, But “ Azs, sun was set,”? his spring was gone, before the letter arrived at his resi- dence in Hertfordthire ; and he died [ believe on the firs¢ of June, the same day that brought me into the world ; so that if I believed in the metempsychosis, I might be foolith enough to imagine that I am the very person to whom this pretty little copy of verses was addrefsed. When I was sitting in my garden under the fhade of a weeping beech of singular beauty, which spreads its fo- liage over an area of near four hundred feet in circum- ference, admitting the light agreeably without the scorch- ing or glaring rays of the sun, I had in my hand the life 9503. literary olla, No. % 179 and the lettets of the elegant author of the immortal ¢- egy in a country churchyard. Ah! said I, happy Wal- pole, happy West, to have had such a. man for your fel- low traveller, friend, and preceptor ; but I also‘had a Gray for mine.’ Then I thought of the dear and amiable young man whom duty had pointed out to my attention, and I conceived the design of writing a treatise concer- ‘ning the nurture and legitimate happinefs of youth: and T resolved to send it to you, on account of your age, and “destination, your love and respect for me, and on account ‘of your excellent father. I have cast it in the mould of a dialogue, in what I “with to make a chaste imitation of the ancients; and I have made Gray the chief speaker, and Walpole and West ‘(the admirets of Gray,) the prolocutors in dialogue va the poet. Figure them then to yourself as walking together in the garden of Walpole, the young men ardent ia argument, and the sentimental poet hovering over their debate, mode~ tating it by his philosophy, and firing it with the sacred ‘flame of his towering genius. West. How delightful is this vernal day and swéet retirement on the banks of the imperial Thames ; “‘ Tho’ deep yet clear, tho’ gentle yet not dull; _Stfong without rage, withous o’erflowing full.” I imagine Gray, by tuning his pipe to itso often, has been afsimulated to it, as we generally are to what we -admire. genet Walpole. Sentimental young rogue: I see what kind of sport you are thinking of on the margin of this river. You are f/bing for a compliment in immortal verse from Gray, when he fhall have finifhed his apprenticefhip to . the muse on the Thames, and set up in businefs for him- self, 180 iterary olla. No. x. Oct. 2 2 West. By no means, Horace, and to give you the re- ply valiant, I super-add inthe words of the same poet of the Thames, that I was thinking of our placid and agree- able situation here, while Stanhope * is thundering in the senate, and Spain trembling through all her borders. Oh happinefs of sweet retir’d content ! To be at once secure and innocent. Gray. Bravo! young courtiers: but as the morningis’ yet early, what would ye think of resuming the conversa- tion of yesterday, on the proper training and employment of youth; and how they lead to honourable manhood, and venerable old age ? Walpole and West. With all our hearts; we only wiihed to play alittle prelude, to your pleasing solo. Gray. In spite of your merriment gentlemen I will be serious. We hed determined yesterday, as you may remember, by an unanimous opinion, that the capital end of a good education was to form a reasonable, useful, and benevolent man ; and that the most proper and efficatious method of leading young people to what is reasonable, useful, ° and benevolent, was to inspire them with confidence and awe towards the great intelligent author of nature. Valpole. We did so; but you must also recollect that I entertained some doubt concerning the means to avoid chatechistical rote, metaphysics, or superstition, in begin- ning too early with the grand foundation of religion. West. My fears do not lye upon that side, but rather upon the other. Gray. I would have children gradually and familiarly, * Stanhope earl of Chesterfield (April 1739) agitating the house of lords. : 4793: literary olla, No. x. 181 and endearingly induced to draw consequences from ana- logy, favourable to the fear of God, and = admiration of his wisdom and goodnefs. A child knows that a house, a statue, a picture, or a piece of furniture, did not make itself: he knows it from observation ; and let us fhow him what we will, if he re- marks badbGiaicy and regularity i in it, he will not fail to afk who made that? ; This disposition is natural to all children, and this dis- position, judiciously cherified, and improved will natu- rally open their minds to as rational and extensive a know- ledge of God as it is pofsible for weak mortals to obtain. Not:.ithstanding the pride and nonsense of false phile- ssophy, and scholastic theology, I maintain that in this respect young people are more upon a par with their el- ders than we are willing to allow. It appears also to me, that the only way by which we can exclude that superstition or personification of unknown causes, to which mankind, from the powers of reflection co-operating with fear, are so subject, is by substituting the first principle of rational religion in its stead. If we say, that such a notion is too sublime for a child, Id say it is too sublime for him to whom Sir Isaac Newton were as a little child. But the early imprefsion being properly made, it will always carry along with it the af- sociate idea of divine intelligence, and will lay a foundati- -on for the unfolding understanding to receive proper in- struction, and for the inquisitive youth, to direct his at- ‘tention more to the ultimate properties of nature by ob- servation, and experiment than by theorising on seconda-’ ry causes; and thus he will be early taught to set his foot upon the first step of the ladder of the illustrious Lord Ba- €0N. To be continued. * 382 anecdote, pete AN ANECDOTE. A Frew years ago, a woman who rented a snug house in Dublin, alarmed: the neighbourhood with a strange story -of a ghost, drefsed as a female in black robes, that opened the curtains of her bed, surrounded by an fllumination like lightening, and with a countenance labouring under some heavy burden, beckoned the woman to follow her. The person haunted, called intwo relationsto sleep with her next night ; but they were also equally frightened with groans and an uncommon noise, and left the house next day: The occupier of the house still persisted. that fhe was hot only haunted, but threatened by the ghost; and to this fhe made the most solemn oaths, as well as impreca- tions, and accordingly took lodgings in a neighbouring street. The story having gone abroad, hundreds were daily drawn by curiosity into the street where the haunted house was: and it becoming the subject of conversation every where, Mr Nolan, so well known for his poetical and political abilities, took up a sporting bet, that he wwould suffer himself to be locked up in the house one whole night, without the company of any human being. About nine o’clock he went, and was fhut up; but for the sake of defence against any improper practices, he took with him a dog and acaseof loaded pistols, and was not re~ leased till six o’clock next morning, when he was found by his companions The following elegant stanzas will best fhow the situa- tion of his mind during the time of his vigils. Suffice it to say, he saw no ghost, though he heard a great deal of noise ; and loudly threatened to thoot the first one whe fast asleep. 2793. anecdote. 183 fhould approach’him, whether ofthis world or ofthe other. This discreet ghost desisted, and the people got rid of their fears in that neighbourhood. ae ee STANZAS, WRITTEN IN A HAUNTED ROOM. Tr from the cearments of the silent dead, es Our long departed friends could rise anew ; Why feel a horror, or conctive a dread, To see again those friends whom once we knew? * Father of All! thou gav’st not to our ken, To view beyond the athes of our grave; ?Tis not the idle tales of busy men _ That can the mind appal.—The truly brave, ‘Seated on reason’s adamantine throne, » + Gan place the soul, and fears no ills unknown. ©! if the flinty prison of the grave Could loose its doors, and let the spirit flee, Why not return the wise, the just, the brave, And set once more the pride of ages free ? Why not restore a Socrates again? : Or give thee, Newton, as the first of men? In this lone room where now I patient wait, To try if souls departed can appear, " O could a Burgh escape his prison gate, oe Or could I think Latouche’s form was near. J Why fear to view the fhades which long must b¢ ’ Fj Sacred to freedom and to charity ? - A little onward in the path of life, And all must stretch in death their mortal frame; A few (hort struggles end the weaiy strife, : And biot the frail memorial ot our name. ‘Torn from the promontory’s lofty brow, fa time the rooted oak itseli lies low. ORO x84 —_ the Indian cottage, a tale. | Oct. 26 THE INDIAN COTTAGE, A TALE. Continued from page 152, and concluded. ArTeER this conversation, the paria took leave of his guest, and left him to his repose, retiring with his wife and his child’s cradle into a little adjoining apartment. Next morning the doctor was early awaked by the singing of birds, having their nests in the branches of the Indian fig, and by the voice of the paria and his spouse repeating together their morning prayer. ' He arose, and was much vexed when upon the paria and his wife opening their door to with him good morning, he saw that they had no other beds in the hut, except the conjugal couch; and that they had sat up all night to yield it to him. After they had saluted him, they made haste to get ready his breaktast; mean time he took a turn in the garden. He found it, as well as ‘the hut, enciycled with arches of the Indian fig, interlaced in such a manner that they formed ‘a hedge impervious even to the eye. He perceived only above their foliage the surface of the red rocks, which formed the vale, all around him. From these descended a little spring, which watered this little garden, planted without any regular plan. One saw there intermixed mangoustans, oranges, cocoa trees, and other vegetables, all loaded with fruits ‘or flowers: even their trunks were covered with them. The betel twined around the arched palm, the pepper around the man- goustan. The air was perfumed with their fragrant sweets. Tho’ most of the trees were still in the fhade, the first rays of the morning already fhone upon theirtops. One saw there colibris sparkling as rubies and topazes, while the Bengal birds and those of the Sema Soule, and five hundred other voices, conce aled under the dewy’ leaves on their nests, formed a delightful concert. The doctor was walking under these charming fhades undisturbed: by thoughts suggested either by learning or ambition, when the pa. ria came to afk him into breakfast. ‘ Your garden is a paradise, said the doctor ; I find no fault with it except its smallextent. Were lin your place, I would add a bowling green and extend it farther into the forest.” ‘‘ Sir,replied the paria, the lefs ground one occupies, he easier he is concealed; a leaf is enough for a nest to the fly bird.” Saying these words they entered the cottage, where they found in a #793. the Indian cottage, a tale. 185 corner, the paria’s wife suckling her child. She had served up the breakfast. After a silent repast, the doctor was about to take his leave : the Indian says to him ‘“* My guest, the plains are as yet over~ flowed with yesterdays rain; the roads are impafsible. Spend this day with us.” ‘ I cannot, answered the doctor, my attendants are too numerous.’ “ Isee, replied the paria, you are in haste to leave the country of the brahmins, to return to that of the Christians, whose re- ligion makes all men live as brethren.” The doctor rose with a sigh. Then the paria made a sign to his wife, who with downcast eyes, and without uttering a word, presented to the doctor a bafket of flowers and fruits. The paria in her name says to the Englifhman, **Sir, excuse our poverty, we have neither ambergris, nor wood of aloes . to perfume our guest, according to the custom of India. We have only flowers and fruits ; but I hope you will not contemn this little bafket filled by the hands of my wife. There are neither poppies nor marygolds ; but jefsamins, mougris, bergamots, by their duration, sym- bois of our love, the recollection of which we will cherifh when we fhall See you no more.” The doctor took the bafket, and said to the paria, ‘I cannot be too grateful for your hospitality, and I cannot expreis in a suit- able manner the esteem I have for you: accept this gold watch ; it was made by the most,famous watch maker in London; itneeds to be wound up only once a year.’ The paria replied, ‘‘ We have not the least occa- sion for a watch. We have one that goes continually, and is never out of order; itis the sun.” ‘ My watch strikes the hours, added the doctor.’ “ The birds chaunt them, replied the paria.” ‘ At least, re- plied the doctor, accept these coral beads to make red necklaces for your wife and child.’ “ My wife and my child fhall never want red necklaces, replied the paria, so long as my garden fhall produce Ango- la peas.”* ‘ Take then these pistols to defend yourself from robbers in this your solitary retreat.’ “ Poverty, says the paria, is a rampart which keeps robbers at a distance; the silver ornaments with which your arms are decorated would serve to attract robbers. In the name ot God who protects us, and from whom we expect our reward, do not rob us _ of the price oi cur hospitality.”” *‘ Meanwhile, replied the Enghihman, I would wifhthat you would retain some memorial of me.’ “ Well; replied the paria, since you with it, I will venture to propose an exchange ; give me your pipe, and take you mine; whenI fhall smoke with your’s, I thall remember that an European pandect has not disdained to accept the hospitality of a poor paria.”” Instantly the doctor gave him his Englith leather pipe, whose head was of yellow amber, and VOL, xvii. AA + 1 86 the Indian coltage, a tale. Oct. 2, _ received in return that of the paria, of which the tube was of bamboo, and the head of baked clay. , Then he called upon his servants who were all benumbed with the cold of the night, and after having embraced the paria, he moun- ted his palanquin. The paria’s wife, bathed in tears, stood alone at the door of the kut holding her child in her arms; but her hufband accompanied him to the fkirts of the forest, loading him with bene- dictions, ‘ May God be your reward, said he, tor your goodnefs to- wards the unfortunate. May he accept my life as a sacrifice for yours. May he conduct you safe to England, that land of learned men, ahd of friends, who seek the truth all over the world to promote the hap-. pinefs of mankind.’ ‘The doctor answered, ‘ I have travelled over half the globe, and have seen every where error and strife ; I have found truth and happinefs in your cottage alone.” Saying these words they parted in tears. The'doctor was already pretty far advanced on the plain, and he still saw the good paria at the foot of a tree, ma- king signs with his hands to bid him adieu. The doctor on his return to Calcutta embarked for Chandernagore, from whence he set sail for England. On his arrival at London he sent the ninety bales of manuscripts to she president of the royal society, who deposited them in the Britith vauseum, where the learned are employed to this day in making’ of them translations, indexes, eulogiums, criticisms, and pamphlets. As for the doctor, he kept for himself the three answers of the pa- ria respecting truth; he smoaked often with his pipe; and when any one afked him what he had learned most useful in his travels, he an- swered, ‘It is necefsary to seek truth with a single heart free from prejudice: that we can find it only in nature ; and that we ought to communicate it to the virtuous alone.” To which he added,‘a good wife alone makes a man happy.’ 1793° “ist of East. Indiamen for 1794. 184 East INDIA SHIPPING FOR THE YEAR 1794. The following hips taken up by the honourable East India Com- . pany for the ensuing season were stationed as under, by a court of directors held at the India house, on wednesday the 2 inst. CoasT aNp Bay. Tons. Captains. To be a-float. To sail. Thetis 804 J. Nutt. 1g Oct. 24 Nov. Lord Camden 775 N. Dance. Do. Do. Phoenix 800 A. Gray. Do. Do-; Dutton 761 P. Simpson. Do. Do. Melville castle 806 J. Haldane. Do. Do. Manthip 812 J. Lloyd. Do. Do. General Goddard 799 W: T. Money. 3 Nov. 8 Dec.' Queen Soi M. Craig. Do. Do. Rockingham 796 Hon. H. Lindsey. Do. Do. Airley castle 813 C. Stewart. Do. Do. Rose 801 J. H. Dempster. Do. Do- Asia 816 J. Davy Foulkes, Do. Do.. Lord Hawkefbury, 803 J. Barclay Do. Bo. Efsex 793 J. Strover. Do. Do, BomsBay AND CHINA. Bridgewater 799 W. Parker. Albion got W. Wills, True Briton 1198 H. Farrer, Mapras anp CHINA. Dublin 736 W. Smith, Ig Oct, 24 Now, Carnatic 1169 J. Corner, Do. Do. Lord Macartney 796 J. Hay. Boddam 1021 J. Jones. St HELENA AND CHINA. D. of Buccleugh 1182 Thomas Wall. ; BENGAL AND BENCOOLEN Europa 772 A. J. Applegarth. St HELENA AND BENCOOLEN Earlof Wycombe 655 John William Wood. Bomsay. Duke of Montrose 76z Joseph Dorin. Sir Edward Hughesg57 Robert Anderson. Raymond 793 Henry Smedley. Ditto, CONDITIONALLY, Woodford 1189 Charles Stewart } ‘ 183 index tndicatorius. Oct. S. - i Cuina. i Tons. Captains. Sulivan . 876 Robert Pouncy. Ponjborn 804 _ James Thomas. Nottingham 1152 John Barfoot. Middlesex 852 John Rogers, Alfred t198 James Farquharson. Canton t198 Thomas Brettell. Taunton castle xz08 William Studd. Ocean’ 3198 Andrew Patton. Ganges 784 Joseph Garnault. Walpole 774 Henry Churchilk ¥ King George 779 Richard Colnett. BEencaL. Contractor, 777 John Bartlet. Valentine 79° Iver M‘Millan. Bufbridge 771 —-——— Genera! Elliot 800 Robert Drummond. j a InpEx InpICATARIOUS. Continued from p. 80. ‘A VERY young author, it is presumed, sends an epitaph upon a mouse, a subect unfortunately chosen, after the beautiful little poem by Burnseon that subject: It would perhaps be cruel to refuseit a place altogether: to compound the matter, the two first, and the two last lines, which are not the worst in this composition, are subjoined, “ © mouse! thou didst a better fate deserve, A heroe’s glorious death, a heroe’ s praise. Forsaken, breathlefs now thy body lies, A prey to death, to worms a sacrifice.” 4. G. F. @. obligingly sends several scraps, of which the Sloeae are excerpts. To make a cheap red ink, he desires that the red flowers of the corn poppy may be gathered, boiled in water, and a little gumarabic added to the composition He answers a query in a former number of the Bee, inquiring 2 reason why Highland persons who learn to speak the low country lane guage, always speak it with the Englifh accent, though they learn it in- Scotland, by saying first, they may learn it from books written in En- glifh, and second, from the Englifh troops who are billeted in pri vate houses, in places where there are no castles or barracks. Neither 193: index indicatorius. 189 _ of these wjll be admitted as valid reasons. The greatest part of the persons who thus learn the Briti/b language, as he properly enough in this case calls it, never learn to read it at all; and few are the Enclith soldiers billeted in that way in comparison of the Scotch, who every where surround them. The following verses, written. in the true ballaa stile, (though somewhat limping at times, ) is the best part f this collection. Verses written on an orange When Heaven,and earth were all at anne (By ancient bards ’tis told, By bards the sons of warlike Greece, Who tun’d the lyre of old:) Fell discord with a wrathful look, Beheld the total quiet ; And streight a dire resolve fhe took, To breed above a riot. Amidst the goddefses "tis said, _ A quarrel to foment, The goldon fruit inscrib’d the laid, ** Unto’ the fairest sent.” ; Each claim’d the gift; fell strife arose Amongst the heavenly fair ; Now first the goddefses were foes; Now wrathful frowns they wear. But here no quarrel can arise, And discord I defy ; Since goddefses nor woman’s eyes, Can with my Delia’s vie. Then, fair one, condescend sans cholar, Accept the tribute of the muse ; Golden, alas! alone in codour. But love, not discord to infuse. Tis sweeter far tian gold, I trust, » Hence Delia iearn tow better (Compared with trifics,) is the alluring dust, And know, “‘ all are not gold that glitter.” A correspondent from the Isle of Skye, who signs himself _X. W desires that the following lines copied from a monument in the church of Slate in that island, may be preserved in the Bee. They are gaid to have been written by the late lord Littleton. 3 190 index indicatorius. Oct, 2s To tHe Memory or Sir James M‘DonaLp Bart, Who.in the flower of youth Had attained to so eminent a degree of knowledge In the mathematicks, philosophy, languages; © And in every branch of useful and polite learning, As few have. ever acquired ina long life Wholly devoted to study ; Yet to this erudition, he joined What can rarely be found with it, Great talents for businefs ; ‘Great propriety of behaviour ; Great politenefs of manners. His eloquence was sweet, correct, and flowing, ’ His memory vast and exact, 5 His judgement strong and acute, All which endowments, united With the most amiable temper, And every private virtue, va Procured him, not only in his own country, But also from foreign nations, The highest marks of esteem. In the year of our Lord, 1766, the 2§th of his life, After a long and extreme illnefs, Which he supported with admirable patience and lina He died at Rome. There, notwithstanding the difference of religion, Such extraordinary honours were paid to his memory, As had never graced that of any other Britith subject In any foreign land, _ Since the death of Sir Ph lip Sidney. The fame he has left behind him Is the best consolation to his afflicted family, And to his countrymen in this isle ; For whose benefit he had planned many useful improvements, Which his fruitful genius suggested, And his active spirit promoted, Under the sober direction of a clear and enlightened understanding, . Reader bewail our lofs, And that of all Britain ! 1793. index indicatorius; 19% In testimony of her love, And as the best return fhe can make To her dear departed son, For the constant tendernefs and affection Which, even to his last moments, He fhewed for her, His much afflicted mother, The Lady Margaret M‘Donald, | Daughter to the earl of Eglinton, erected this monument, 1768. A correspondent who stiles himself one of the people, thus begins 2 very long paper dated 1st October 1792. i “* One would have thought that the late horrible transactions in a neighbouring nation, would have cooled in some degree the rage in this country; oratleast that the democratic, or as they affect tocall themselves the patriotic party, would have felt the blush of contrition for the dire ef- fects of their levelling principles.” But this he alleges has not been the case.—“* What efforts do they still make, continues he, to delude the people? Is it not enough that they have degraded the first nation in Europe into a state of barbarism, disgraceful to humannature , but must they also labour to plunge this country likewise into the same gulph of misery ?” This writer proceeds with much zeal nearly in the same strain to the end of his paper; of which it is hoped the foregoing extract is a sufficient specimen. Poverty sends a very elaboratepaper to the Bee on the subject of smuggling. He justly reprobates these illicit practicesas being destructive to the trade, and industrious exertions of honest men, and calls upon every friend to their country to lend their aid in checking it. He observes that the officers of excise and customs execute the law so partially as to take care not to discourage smugyling too much, as that would plainly curtail their emoluments, He also suggests that landed men too often encourage smugglers because of the ad- vanced rent these freebooters sometimes are able to give for land. But this every sensible iandlord knows is so precarious that it is only a small proportion of these, we hope, who, from this motive, tend to cherifh smugglers. After a great many hints tending to check this evil, he concludes by proposing that respectable persons throughout the whole country fhould form themsélves into societies for the:purpose of giving informations concerning it, and checking the practice. This we fear can never be expected, Tnadeed v.ere is only one radical j ° 192 to correspondents. Octs 2 cure for smuggling, and that is to moderate the duties, so as to ie the hope of gain not to be such as to counterbalance the lofs likely to be incurred. This, and nothing else will ever put a stop to it. To CoRRESPONDENTS. Taz favour of Emendator is received. After returning thanks to this correspondent for the obliging manner in which he writes, the editor afsures him that his hints fhall hdve all dué attention bestow- ed upon them; though he -does not say that all the emendations he proposes will be adopted. Where the public is concérned which con- sists of persons of tastes infinitely varied, it is impofsible that the wifhes of any one can be entirely gratified, because attention must be paid to the wifhes of others. Philomanthes withes, for example, that mathematical questions fhould make a considerable part of the work, in which he is supported by the intelligent Pappus, whose letter is hereby acknowledged, and which will be laid before the public when room can be spared for it. Euphranor complains that too great a proportion of the work is ap- propriated to serious subjects, especially those respecting agriculture, So that too little room is left for tales and entertaining anecdotes; while loudly calls for more on the subject of agriculture : ‘You fhould teach us,!says he, how to sow, how to reap, how to manure our ground; so as to derive the greatest profit from it and leave all light summer reading to other trifling performances ;’* without seeming to advert that the Editor would thus deviate entirély from the plan he proposed to the public at the commencement of his work, to which, as in duty bound, he has ever endeavoured as much as pofsible to adhere. ee ae 150 THE BEE, LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER, FOR Wepnespa¥, OcToBER 9. 1793. ON THE MOST STRIKING AND CURIOUS PHENOMENA OF NATURAL HISTORY. By ArcTICcUuUs. *« The fool says in his heart “ there is no God:” And none but a fool would say so. For the Bee. Me Epriror. "W anst the frantic Gaul glories in the name of Athiest, and the French senate thakes with loud ‘ap- plause, these flighty shallow statesmen forget a wise maxim of their favourite Machiavel, so strongly re- commended to the study of their rising generation, who says, ‘¢ That whenever the religion of a state fallsinto diss ** regard and contempt, it is impofsible for that state ‘* to continue long.” | Surely, ofall the species of phrenzy and fanaticism, which have as yet afflicted human nature, and God VOL, XVii, Bb ¢ 194 curious phenomena in matural history. Oct. Gs ' knows it has suffered enough from the different moe difications of those distempers, the present mania is the most alarming; as ‘no protefSion of faith can save | the unhappy victims from the murderous fraternity, who dance like wild Sybels round the tree of blood, baptising it in that crimson fluid, with the fair name of liberty. To turn then the thoughts of your readers from scenes of so much horror, and to raise their minds to that Supreme Being,’so much despised by yout more than Gothic neighbours, to whom I apply the motto of my paper, I fhall give a few of the most striking outlines of a subje&t, the best calculated of all others to raise admiration, whilstit is one of the most amu- sing that exists to a rational being,——I mean the woz~ ders of the creation. Yt has been with much pleasure that I have ob- served some occasioral little extracts in the Bee, from the history and ‘instinct of the larger animals : put there are still other branches of natural history, which offer, like the one you have already taken up, a wide field of innocent and instructive amusement. ‘The branches I allude to, are those of zmsects, with the history, habits, and something like instinct of plants , subjects which are as rich in curious matter and entertainment, as any in the whole range of hu« man knowledge. As a beginning then to such papers in your useful miscellany, I give here an introductory fketch, com- ‘piled from authors, on botany and entomology; which if not new to the learned few, who make these a ——— 1793. curious phenomena in natural history. Ips. branches a study, it will probably be so to the larger part of your readers, or to what is commonly un- derstood by the word public, for which popular efsays are invented and calculated ; er at least fhould be go, in every periodical publication of the nature of the Bee. In taking 2 general view of natural history, the first thing that strikes us, is the wonderful order and arrarigement of the creation. Every species of ani- mai and plant is supported on the particular aliment allotted to it by the Supreme Being, lest the one fhould deprive the other of its food, and introduce confusion into the beautitul system; and in fact there is no plant hitherto discovered, which does not afford food to some animal, and which in its turn does not uire its particular food of soil, vein only exception to this general rule of nature, is the lord of the creation, MAN, who has been al- _ lowed a much wider range than any other animal ; although even he is circumscribed in some degree, and will be poisoned by productions which afford wholesome food to some other link of the chain; but still the positive afsertion of holy writ is per- fectly just, ‘‘ that every thing was made, either di- rectly or indirectly, for the use of man,” as even his potson becomes his medicine, when judiciously eme pleyet. ¥ Entomology lf we look still more minutely into the admirable system of the universe, how much will we be afhamed at our occasional peevifh complaints, against the nu-. merous swarms of reptiles and insects, which surround - 196 curious phenomena in natural history. Oct. Oe us in certain seasons ; as we will find that every one of them has its tafk afsigned to it for the general good. - Not to dwell on the more evident destination of “birds, beasts, and fifhes, of prey, to clear the earth of all kinds of dead carcases, which would otherwise cerrupt the air and water, there are myriads of m- sects, destined to consumeé every thing animal and vegetable, which has ceased to live: and they are so true to their trust, that they even dispute the pof- sefsion of the objects committed to their care, with maz, when he attempts to appropriate them ; so that the lord of the creation is obliged to employ all the resources of his superior faculties, to invent means of keeping at a distance so minute and insignificant an enemy, every time he seizes on its destined food. But as this necefsary, not wanton usurpation of man, on the food of insects, is continual, his clothes, and indeed every thing he makes use of from the ani- mal and vegetable kingdoms, coming within the de- scription, he is obliged to be incefsantly on his guard, to keep off the right owners, which makes the study of insects anecefsary branch of economics ; as it ig difficult to guard against an enemy you Scarce know by sight, and of whose stratagems, hiding places, metamorphoses, &c. you are perfectly ignorant. This incefsant warfare between man and insects, for his clothes, provisions, furniture, &c. (which by the bye, you fortunately know little about in the happy island, comparatively with what is felt on the three continents), 1s not without its use in the beau- tiful system of nature ; as nothing tends so much to force men to cleanlinefs and care of his property, nay 1793- _ curious phenomena 7 in nabeal history. 1907 even persons precautions so necefsary- to health and comfort, in either hot cr cold climates. i It is only to be regretted, that the progrefs hither- to made in this branch of natural history, does not as yet furnifh us with sufficient means of defence against the different species of musca or flies, curculis or weavils, dermestes or feather-eaters, phalena or moths, &c. &c. which destroy our provisions, corn, ' clothes, furniture, and peltry, &c. although I make no doubt but another generation will pofsefs what we are deficient in; if naturalists pursue their inquiries in entomology, with the same ardor they have done of late years ; disregarding the common-place sneer at what is wittily called moth-hbunting: but the un- thinking beau or belle, who makes the remark, little suspects that the moth is the declared enemy of all their finery, and the very insect on which they fhould make war, if they with to preserve their elegant trap- pings. I cannot conclude these general hints on insects hostile to man, without particularizing two which are much more worthy the enmity of Britons than the nibblers of their clothes; I mean the TEREDO sia- valis, or calamitas navium, a dangerous enemy to the navy of England, pietcing the bottom of thips, and taking up its abode there, with the Canruaris navaits, an insect which finds means to pierce the hardest oak, whether in a {hip or other building. I have in my collection, a piece of petrified oak from the Pritifi island of Sheppey, pierced in every direction by the teredo navalis, which seems to contradict the opinion of that destructive worm’s heing brought to us from 198 curious phenomena in natural history. Oct. 9. the Eaft Indies ; as in all appearance and probability, the piece of oak in question was pierced by it in Sheppey, long before a pafsage round the Gape was found to the Ett. But man will do well, even for his own villi safety, to make himself acquainted with the nature and maneelivres of a much more minute enemy than any hitherto mentioned, the acaRi sirones, which by lodging in his fkin, gives him the loathsome disease called the itch: and as this is the very same insect which spoils his flour, and turns his cheese to pow- der, under the well known name of mites, by re- maaining ignorant of its history, and mode of attack, he may get the itch in his own pantry ; nay even at -his own table, without going to the higher lands of the north in quest of it: at least we know that the helplefs infants of the indigent are often innoculated for the disease, by powdering their groins with spoiled flour, instead of white lead, or lycopodium, to pre- vent excoriation from the urine. This insect, which the plains of Rufsia can dis- ‘pute the pofsefsion of, with all the mountaineers of Europe together, the microscope fhows to have eight feet, with a few hairs on the back, and to be exactly the mite of cheese and flour, as said ae bove *. : * Perhaps this opinion of our ingenious correspondeat will be dis-- puted. May not the old proverb be here applied, “like is an ill mark.” We know the itch is readily communicated by the touch; but I have neverheard of it being communicated by mity cheese. Edit, 17936 curious phenomena in natural history. 199 Now, a mote speculative man than your corres spondent, might hazard a conjecture, that the gaat milk cheese, so favourite a food with both the A- cart, and the inhabitants of mountains; may in some measure account for the superior prevalency of the itch in those regions ; if the fact is true, which I must own I doubt, from my observations in one of the flattest countries of the world, and which certain- ly does not yield, as hinted above, in that respect, to® any elevation above the level of the sea, which the barometer can point out, whilst one of our Rufsian pustles would hold half 4 dozen of your’s in its cir- cumference. Man may likewise dtaw great advantages, as well as security, from the study of insects ; for, to pafs over the well known and valuable silk-worm, the cochineal, lac, and gall insects, &c. he might even save alight, upon some occasions, by naturalizing the cu- rious’ CICADA dZanternaria of Sursnam ; an insect something resembling a locust, which carries a na tural lanthorn on its head, sufficient to light you ‘about the streets the darkest night in winter. In fhort, was one only to hint in pafsing, ¥ Ian doing, at the multitude of striking and curious phe~ “nomena in the history of insects, it would swell a paper to a volume ; as it would be impofsible to pafs unnoticed, the showers of blood, related as prodigies by even grave historians, which we now know to have proceedéd from the excrement of a flight of the comma butterfly (cadum of Linneus) ; the no lefs Sinister presage of the sea turned to blood, caused by myriads of the red monoc (monucuLus pulex); the 200 curious phenomena in natural history. Oct. ge alarm occasioned by the jasamine hawk moth (sPHinx atropos), crying like an infant, and bearing the fis gure of a death’s head on its back, &c. &c:' But to return to my subject, viz. the important tafe afsigned to insects, in the beautiful economy of nature, I must remark, that the Almighty has not confined his otders and agents merely to the destruc tion of matter which has ceased to live and vegetate ; for he has likewise provided against dangerous luxu- riancy in either the animal or vegetable kingdoms, and set bounds to excefsive multiplication of any particular ‘species, by admirable checks of different kinds, which will of course be pointed out by others, — in the prosecution of a subject of wiich{I have only un- dertaken to give a rough out-line, to excite rather than satisfy curiosity. I {hall just observe, in finifhing my fketch on insects, that our fields and gardens are more particularly exposed to those charged with this last commifsion, (via. to prevent excefsive multiplica- tion of any particular vegetable), for that purpose myriads of crysomella, curcults, phalena, &c. have received orders, aud like the former clafs, charged with the destruction of dead matter, are so dilligent, that growing vegetables are with difficulty guarded against them by all the ingenuity of man, at leaft be= fore their transmigration ; for it is in the state of ca- terpillars, or larve, that insects are most to be dreaded ; although the genus of gryllus is sufficiently destructive in its perfect state of a fly, particularly the terrible GRYLLUs migratorius, or locust of scripture, which still occasionally lays waste certain countries, | whilst it furnithes constant food to the naked savages : 1793. mn art of life. 291 of others, who wait its periodical arrival as Euro- peans do a thoal of herrings* ; however, it is impof- sible not to observe even in public calamities, the goodnefs of the creator, who renders his occasional instruments of punifhment to one portion of the hu- man species, constant blefsings to another. In a second letter, I fhall finifh my fketch as far as intended by q ~ ARCTICUs, FRAGMENTS OF LORD BACON. Art of life. , Cotaed from p- 172. and concluded. * * * € As it is characteristick of the human na- ture, in distinction from all others, to be inquisitive, fanciful, and religious, so in the subject matter of religion itself, it is of the nature ‘of man to be ine definitely various and whimsical, and since it is con- ceded by the .aost rigid and self afsuming orthodox divines, that our Saviour came not to annull the ob- ligations of natural religion, but to fulfil and direct them to our everlasting happinefs, so it is no small part of the art of life, to prepare in old age for death, without harafsing either ones self or others, with modes of faith, which, as to the main point of happinefs either here or hereafter, is declared by the founder of our religion to be of no account. * We are told that John lived in the wildernefs on Zocusts and wild honey. VOL. xVil. ca } ~ 202 art of life. Oct. 24 " Now, as ever since the days of the emperor Con- stanstine, the church has been intimately united to the state, and supported by its authority, it is the part of a prudent man to enjoy his religious thoughts in private, and sacrifice his cock unto Esculapi- us. 5 Death may be cota pared unto a mathematical point, which is in itself nothing but a termination 3 and therefore it becomes a wise and a good man, ra- ther to reflect in old age upon what is past, than what is to come, seeing that no material change can be wrought either upon his pep or upon his understanding. He will do well to make himself Fee to his relations and domestics, if he has any ; and if not to those who are near unto him, and minister unto his necefsities in the feeblenefs of his condition. He will do well to meditate upon the manifold comforts and mercies of his past life, and to solace himself with the company of contemplative and worthy persons, who may, without gloom or super- stition, converse with him upon the satisfaction that arises from the satiety of human pursuits, as rela« ting to the objects of sensual desire, and of the hap- py state that is created by intellectuak curiosity, and meditation ; and resignation to the ordination of nature to which he is soon about to be subjected in deéth. Having long accustomed himself to the habitudes that make old age amiable and respectable, and now’ finding the infirmities and weaknefs of his body to increase, addicting himself to frequent prayer to the, ee on stagnation in businefs. 293 father of spirits, he will be ready meekly to surren- der his life unto him who gaveit. “ Non jam se moriens difsolvi conqueratur, Sed magis ire foras, vestemque relinquere ut anguis Gauderet, prelonga Senex aut Cornua Cervus. End of the fragments of lord Bacon, on the art of life. AN INQUIRY INTO THE CAUSE. . OF THE PRESENT STAGNATION IN BUSINESS. Ir is common enough for individuals to over-trade themselves : companies sometimes do the same; but for a nation to over-trade itself, has scarce been ap- prehended before ; yet as the symptoms are precisely the same as in the case of an individual when over- trading himself, we need seek for no other cause for the present distrefs in the trading part of the nation; for the amazing extent to which trade was carried on by the Britifh merchants, was a good deal of it upon fic- ticious stock, for such is paper currency when ever it is ifsued beyond what there is a real deposit of property for the value. The very form of the pro- mifsary notes in circulation proves this, for they are all for value received, which is-supposed to be the deposit, to answer the credit of the notes. But ‘where (in too many cases) was the deposit, when it came to be-called for? This thews the bad effe@s of 204 on stagnation in busine/s. Oct. Qe an unlimited ifsuing of paper currency.*. It’ may augment the imaginary stock of a nation, to any a= mount, while the real stovk remains just the same, ° or is perhaps daily decreasing by a losing trade. As allover-trading has got the name of speculation ; that is a person speculating upon an imaginary profit, that is to arise to him atsome distant period, from the goods he is buying; and what has given so great encou- ragement to speculation is, the long credits given on goods bought up for the export trade, twelve months commonly. It is true if the merchant pays ready mo- ney, he gets a discount of 73 per cent. This is one way of raising the interest of money from 5 per cent. the legal, to 73 per cent. for somuch every merchant pays who takes the credit. But how prejudical high i in-~ terest is to the export trade of a country may be seen by the following example. Suppose an Englifhman and a Dutchman, have each a 10001. lying at interest in their respective countries ; they meet and agree to employ this money in a joint venture, to 2 foreign market, and call in their “money that they may buy to the best advantage. Af- ter eighteen months, they have their returns: the net proceeds amount to just 2150 1. The Dutchman finds * Does not the ingenious writer here use the phrase pap-r currency in too loose and indefinite a sense. The writer here seems to confound what is commonly called wind bills with real bills granted for goods received, in the usual course of businefs, which ought surely to be dis- tinguifhed from this. Tt does not seem that any well founded censure can be applied to the discounting of real bills ; and it was owing to the want of this accommodation that the best manufacturers have suffered so severely. No good reason seems yet to be afsigned, why the practice of discounting these hillsthould have met with obstruction. Edits ‘ ‘ £993: on stagnation in businefs. 205 he has made 301. more than if he had suffered his money to continue at interest for the time ; but the Englifhman has not a penny more than just the in- terest of his money, so will probably return his mo-= ney to interest again, while the Dutchman has encou- ragement to continue the trade. But suppose ano- ther merchant buys at the same time, and takes the credit: as he pays 71 per cent. more for his goods, though sold equally well with the others, his net proceeds do not exceed the original cost, and as his bills falls due, six months before he has his re- turns, he is obliged to put off the time, by the help of bills of accommodation, which cannot be supposed “to stand him lefs than 3 per cent. as they would be to renew twice in the time; so that he loses just as. much as the Dutchman gains, supposing all other cir- cumstances equal. yoy _ And so far the higher rate of interest and the long credit is against the export trade. To save this, so many merchants got into the trade of ifsuing pro- mifsary notes, instead of cafh, in their payments : and thus trading upon an imaginary stock, no wonder if they extended their businefs beyond all rule of pru- dence, and at the same time engrofsing all the trade to themselves, as they had such an advantage over the ‘merchant who was trading on real stock, as the out. lay of the money must be reckoned. by him as an _ article-in the cost of his goods, viz. the interest the money would have brought him in the time, if he had not employed it in trade ; whereas the others lay out no money, though they seem still to buy for ready money. The multiplicity of daha banks, there- } “206 | on stagnation in businefs. _ Oct. Q. fore, has been the chief cause of the present distrefs | on the trading part of the nation: their credit being by so many failures rendered doubtful, has withdrawn at once the imaginary stock furnifhed by them for “the carrying on of trade. It is a difficult matter to restrain an improper use of credit without hurting credit itself, which is so ne- cefsary for the carrying on of an extensive businefs ; but perhaps the following proposals might fasten the private banking within proper bounds. Let there be a charter bank establifhed in every considerable trading town in Britain, whete a capital ‘of 100,000 1. could be employed to advantage in the banking businefs, upon the following conditions. 1. That before they ifsue any notes for circu- lation, they fhall lodge four fifths of the capital stock contained in their charter in government’s hands, at 3 per cent. for the security of the holders of their notes, andat thesame time this deposit be admitted as a compensation for the stamp tax ; sothat their notes or bills be free from that tax, in the same manner asthe _ motes of the bank of England are: that the 4 per cents. fhall be taken at par for the whole or any part of the deposit money ; for which reason each of these banks fhall be allowed to take in of that stock to the amount | of four fifths of their charter capital, either by pur- chase at the market price, or by giving stock for them at such rates as they can agree with the stock- holders. 2. That the remaining fifth to lie in the bank, be employed in no other trade but the purchase of either bullion or bills of exchange. 1793- on stagnation in busines. 204 3. That no single person or trading house. fhall hold more than 5000]. stock in any one of these banks (except the bank of England, who may hold a fourth of the capital stock in any of them, if they chuse. ) This article may be understood chiefly for those that fhall be erected south of the Tweed; for as the revenue,in Scotland is mostly, if not all, collected to Edinburgh, to be transmitted from thence to the’ treasurey, if the three charter banks in Edinburgh could agree to unite into one, this united bank in Es dinburgh might be allowed the same privilege to, hold the fourth of the capital stock in all the char- ter banks erected in any place in Scotland. 4. That the first twelve persons who thall sub. scribe for a thousand pounds or upwards, {hall act as: directors, till the capital stock is filled up, and for this purpose may apply for a charter, fix the amount _of the capital, and as soon as they have obtained their. charter, advertise on what terms they will give. stock for the 4 per cents. But the subscription money to be lodged either in the bank of England, or bank : of Scotland, and to be employed no otherwise but in - buying up 4 per cents. till the whole capital contained in the charter be filled up. 5. To prevent the pernicious practice of stockjob- _ bing, that no person subscribing to any of these banks, fhall be allowed either to sell or transfer any part of his stock in the bank, until twelve months after the date of the charter; and even after this, all sales of these bank’s stock, fhall be by public sale, after 208 on stagnation in busine/s. Oct. 0: _a_fortnight’s advertisement in the nearest newspa- per. 6. That as soon as’the capital is made up, and the deposit placed in government’s hands, the inte- rim directors {hall appoint a meeting of the propri- etors, to chuse their directors, and settle the plan fer carrying on their businefs to the best advantage. Lastly, As touching the deposite in government’s. hands, fhould such a run be made on any of these banks as the cafh in bank is not sufficient to answer, it thal) be lawful for them to ‘draw on the exche- queér to the amount of one fourth part of their depo- sit money ; and if this be not sufficient to answer the run made on them at tHe end of six weeks, they may draw another fourth part, and so on till the whole of the deposit money be drawn out; but in the mean time they fhall cease from ifsuing notes till the whole of the deposit money be paid into the ex~ chequer again, with legal interest for the time it has been out ; and if they be not able to do this in twelve months; reckoned from the time of their first draught, their charter fhall be forfeited, and the company dif- solved. 4 And if at the game time there be a law made for- bidding any promifsary notes to pafs in circula- tion under §]. sterling in value, the charter banks would in 2 great measure remove the tempta- tion to private banking, as any person who had, stock for that purpose, might be 4 proprietor in the charter bank most convenient for him; or if his stock was so large he might be a proprie- tor severals just as suited his businefs best, and as , { ee 1493- _ 6 stagnation in busine/s.. 209 the forbidding the circulation of premifsary notes under 51. value, would subject the whole of the private banker’s circulation to the stamp tax, it would atleast circumscribe their businefs so far as to prevent a few failures amongst them putting a. stop to the trade of the nation again. The trading part of the nation wants a supply of real stock to carry on their trade with, instead of the fictitious stock furnifhed them by the. private banks, which» is now evanifhed all at once; and it is only the stock- holders or public creditors that can furnifh them with this ; for amongst the landed men at an average, there are as many borrowers as lenders, and stich of them as are in condition to lend, commonly prefer Janded security t2 a merchant’s bond ; but the public creditors have the stock to lend, and certainly may do it greatly to their own advantage, for they cer- tainly would make rather better than 5 per cent, for the stock that now only yields them four, and as to any tise in the stocks, it is more than probable, that the bank stocks would rise much faster than the four per cents. The greatest hazard is that they fhould tize too suddenly above the real value, like the South Sea, for which reason I propose forbidding the transferring them for a twelyemonth, by which time the real value may be better ascertained than it can be by any preceding calculation; and fhould only twenty millions of the four per cents be taken in that way, it would be a saving 209,000]. a year to go- vernment, in reducing the interest one per cent, on so much of the public debt, and I am persuaded the YoL. xv ll. DD t ; 210 on the cotton manufactures. Oct. §. imaginary stock furnifhed by the private banks, a- mounted to much more than thatsum ; then consider how much safer it would be for the nation to be trading on real than imaginary stock. | $$$ ON THE PROGRESS AND EXTENT OF THE COTTCN MANUFACTURES OF BRITAIN. Wirnour entering minutely into an investigation of all the arguments above, far lefs into a discufsion of the practicability of the plan of the bank proposed, there seeins to beno room for doubting, that the general principle afsumed by. this writer, is well founded, viz. that our manufactures were pufhed to an extras vagant pitch in point of extent, and that owing to this circumstance alone, sooner or later, a stagnation in respect to sales must have been experienced, which could not fail to produce effects somewhat similar to those which have been lately experienced. And though certain circumstances might have tended to retard or to accelerate this catastrophe, yet in the train we were in, this was certainly unavoidable ; and if so perhaps the sooner the check was experi~ enced, the lefs severely it will be felt in the end. The opinion here given, is grounded on the follow- ing authentic document. The select committee of the house of commons ap- pointed to take into consideration the state of the ex- port trade from great Britain to the East Indies, 5793. on cotion manufactures. 21 ' upon the cotton manufactures of this country, in their report dated 4th Feb. 17,3, state the following facts, with a view to exhibit a comparative view of the progrefs of the cotton manufactare in Britain, and . the extent of sales of Indian piece goods. Years. Value of Pounds Value of cot- piece-goods weight of ton goods ma- sold by the cottonimpor- —_uufactured company. ted. in Britain in 1771 £- 1,435,475 2,677,042 pounds 1772 1,653,912 5,390,685 Sterling. 3. 3,797,508 3,297,501 ae 1,815,008 5.816, 363 5 1,609,597 6,841,354 6 1,621,797 - 6,380,705 4 1,660,892 7,401,671 8 .. 1,663,069 7,393,044 9 747,020 4,790,016 ~ 1980" 1,257,868 7,§64,629 I 850,703 5,198,778 2 1,287,110 11,811,781 *3. ' 1,443,046 7,816,645 £.3,200,003 4 3,055,722 11,482,083 3:959,000 5 1,560,847 18,400,384 6,000,000 6 1,570,217 19,475,020 6,599,909 ” | 1,439,043 23,250,268 9,599,030 8 1,202,871 20,467,436 9 1,229,360 32,576,023 0 1,752,356 31,447,605 179 This account comes no lower down than 1790, but we all know that the cotton works were greatly ex- tended in the years 1791 and 1792, so that by reason- ing from analogy from what has gone before, we cannot compute that the quantity of cotton wool im- 212 on the cotton manufactures Oct. Qs ported in 1792 could be under 40,000,000 libs, nor. that the value of cotton goods manufactured from it. could be lefs than 15,co0,o00 ]. but if in the course of ten years, the value of this branch of manufacture rose Irom two to fifteen millions, and if our exer- tions to extend it farther and farther continued, it is easy to see, that a time must soon come, when that progrefsive extention must be stopped ; especially when we advert that other nations were at the same time availing themselves of those very machines which had given us that temporary advantage, and thus supplying themselves with this commodity. Yet so blind were many persons, that they believed, as it fhould seem, that this businefs never could be o~ ver-done, and from the amazing rapidity of its pro- grefs for some years past, they augured that its progrefs would be accelerated in time to come with~ outend!! : While this subject is under review, it may not prove unsatisfactory to the reader to see an accu- rate account of the places from whence we obtained the raw materials for this extensive manufacture, which the above named committee have enabled us to do. ‘These areas under: An acconnt of the quantity of wool cotton ditt ed into Great Britain, between the sth of January 1794 on the cotton manufactuses. 213 1790, and the sth of January 1791; distinguifhing ‘the countries from whence imported, England. Soutland Aggregate lib. weight lib. weight in libs Denmark & Norway, 69,000 65 | Germany, - - % 418 ' 505845; Holland, - - - 1,146,033 99,500 A. Flanders, - - 517,974 2,254,420 F. Flanders, - - - 499,913 France, - - - -~ 3,964,637 3,360 | a Portugal, - - - ea nes +4 11,533 8,570,314 Spain, = - - - 104,520 600 Y. Italy, - - - - 364,309 12:920¢ 494349 Venice, - - - 12,000 Purkeyy =. - - 6) - 41422,872 4,422,872 Ireland, - 5.431 23,646 United States of ‘A { 376,655 merica, - 345,492 2,08 Remaining cafonies ditto, - wh) aA Serjo82 os 35,.954 Anguillaa - - 2775354 13,599 Antigua, - - - 361,337 552134 Barbadoes, - - 893,283 - 524,770 Dominica, - - 426,329 Grenada, - - - 3;037,206 973,372 p 14,100,246 Jamaica, - . 3,382,164 617,279 Montserrat, - -. 213,379 Nevis, - - - 10,213 St. Kitts, - - - 784,621 251,262 St. Vincents, - - 1,141,173 69,707 Septal as: -.- ~~ £43,436 nan Foreign W. Indies, 168,068 114,182 Africa, = Sa = * 5,699 | yO A he 434,823 Allother parts, - 1 134 Total. 28,579,243 2,868,462 33,447,605 ary "on forest trees: r Oct. 9: HinTs RESPECTING SOME USEFUL KINDS OF FOREST TREES, NOT GENERALLY KNOWN IN THIS COUNTRY. t \< Communicated by a correspondent in Manchester. 1. Luz iron oak, which thrives three times as fast as the common Englifh oak, and is equally beautiful. This oak is sold by Mr Lucombe of Exe- ter, and is the oak on which he grafts the Lucombe oak. 2. Populus Greca or Athenian poplar. . This pop- lar is of the quickest growth of any tree we know, especially upon a gravelly soil, and therefore the most profitable in the neighbourhood of Manchester, for the purpose of making boxes, where duration is “not necefsary. And it is the most ornamental deci- duous tree we are pofsefed of, because it is the first in leaf, and the last in going out of leaf, and its leaves never are insected nor blighted; its bark is of the most beautiful silver colour. It is propagated by layers and suckers. 3-Betuta, fol. rhombeo, ovatis, acuminatis, duplicoto, serratis: This Ilaminformed isthe most useful and pro- fitable tree in North America; it is calied the black _birch. It thrives equally well in this climate, and is a most desirable tree in plantations of ornament and fhade, being one of the first in leaf in the spring, and has a beautiful bark. POETRY. —ooooS————— OOS 35°00 wwowo°w=x34.aas.'’] For the Bee. : Ji Dr Anderson thinks the following version from Pindar, which was made as a college exercise, worth inserting in the Bee, it is much at his service. ee Great Jove supreme, thy mighty hand Wings the swift lightning thro’ the iky ; The seasons roll by thy command, The winged hours incefsant fly. While these the sacred games renew Me, with the various sounding lyre, - They send the glorious strife to view, And all my soul with raptures fire. Crown’d with succefs a friend returns, With joy exults cach generous soul : How ev'ry breast with ardor burns To hear how swift he reach’d the goal} Thou mighty son of Saturn old, Thou o’er mount Etna tow’ring high, The load of Typhon, giant bold, ~ That dared to afsault the fky Presidest still: receive the song, Which to the graces ever dear, Shall to the victor’s praise belong, On all his virtues beeming clear. For see on Psaumis’ glowing car Glad vict’ry smiling, swiftly flies, With olive crown’d, and seen afar, To raise with honour to the tkies Fair Camerina, blest abode, His native city far renowa’d, Where first the rapid car he rode; His every with with joy be crown’d } The bounding steed, his eye delight, And social pieasufes glad his soul, Fair peace attend him day and night, And ev’ry anxious care controul ! No falschood e’er fhall stain my song: Experience, test of ev’ry deed, Clymenus’ son trom scofling tongue Oftaunting Lemnian ladies treed. 216 eer t \ * ai é poetry. Oct. 9. The viét’ry gain'’d, with glowing wheels . In brazen armour dazzling bright, A conscious pride the hero feels ; Hypsypile stands in his sight. To her when called to wear the crown, He cries exulting ‘‘ 1 am he! Altho’ my head be hoary grown, But this in youth we sometimes see. My heart and hand with equal speed, : If this can merit any praise, Conceive and execute the deed deserving of immortal lays. Mica. THE VISITOR. To nature, on earth, a fhort visit we pay, That visit, at longest, no more than a day; We rise in the morning with tears in our eye. Says nature, and gives us a rattle, “ dont cry.” We sit down to breakfast, ’tis gone in a trice, And well we remember our mother’s advice ; The tears from our eyes we wipe off too soon, And play the farce pastime through all the forenoon. With a fhort grace, ifany, we sit down to dine; At the feast we forget that the day will decline. Tis declining already, for if you can see, Tho’ you told the clock twelve, mark the hand ! that’s at three. Over coffee and tea how we trifle and prate, ‘ *Till ev’ning, and then, who'd have thought it so late ? Says nature, “ arise, make your bow, and away, My chaise at the door and the driver wont stay.” Reluctant we enter, the reason I know, We are not quite sure to what inn we fhall go: Inn! that’s not the word, and we know it too well, For homeward we go, and are going to dwell. °° And are we quite sure we will dwell at our ease? And fhall we reside just as long as we please ? That, that is the point, but where’er we retire, The lease of our dwelling will never expire. Mankind are the visitors, warn’d at the thought, At your visit behave as such visitors ought. £793- account of Persian cotton. =~ ar7 AN-.ACCOUNT OF PERSIAN COTTON, Communicarep By ArcTicus- Being atranslation of a paper presented to the royal econo- _ mucal society of St Peterfourgh by Mr GENTLEMEN, Attow me to have the honour of presenting to ‘you some grains of cotton seed. This seed is gathered prin- Cipally in Persia, and is bought in the markets, from the peasants, who bring it in small packets, from half a pound to two or three pounds. It is even difficult to collect any quantity of it; and it cost the person who jfurnifhed me with this sample, a great deal of time and trouble to col- lect three poods, which cost him nearly 3000 rubles. The sale of this seed is not unknown at Smyrna ; but what you see here, gentlemen, was bought from Boucha- tian merchants trading with Rufsia, and itis besides of a superior quality to what is found commonly at Smyrna, _from whence the French obtained it tormerly to culti- vate in their colonies, as well as the Maltese, who have also reaped so much advantage from it among their rocks, that it is to be feared their sweet orangés, so famoas, and which were very lucrative to them, will soon disap- pear, although the only production of traflic, till within these few years, of their burning and barren rocks, to givé place to another kind oj cultivation as useful, and a great deal more profitable. The Portuguese have sent this seed to Brazil, where ¢ts cultivation has had a wonderful succefs, in a climate and soil perfectly adapted to its production, so much so, ¢hat in a few years, the piant, by the constant and conti- nued attention of her ministers, flourifhed so well that it VOL" XVII. EE Tt 218 account of Persian cotton. © WO ethis may be compared with the golden fleece of the Greeks. It is this, gentlemen, that has induced me to give you this information, and to lay before you the great occasio- pal, though important consequences, that result from the researches of men who reflect, who discover, and who communicate. It may be afked what is my conclusion fidm this fact ? There itis. The Portuguese nation, formerly born down by a balance of trade quite against her, had drained all her treasures. France, Germany, Holland, and especially England, pofefsed them, if we may be allowed the -ex- prefsion, before ever they had sent them from America, and from the east coast of Africa. Her gold was found every where ; it was even in my time the most common: current specie over all Great Britain, and in all her colo- nies. From ove end to the other of England all payments were generally made in moidures of Portugal; they a- bounded even when guineas were rare, and really d:ficult to be get; but in proportion as that nation embraced more and more the cultivation of sugar, and especially , of cotton, the balance of ttade has taken a change. She now pays the manufactures\of the north with these new raw productions ; and their a2 by little and little dimi- nifhed, and finally disappeared entirely from foreign coun- “tries. And I maintain, that, if it were allowed to me to enter into a like detail, to fhow that this seed is more precious and more useful to them than their mines of gold and of diamonds, and perhaps will make her directly fhut up for ever both the one and the other, and never to set a foot on the banks of the Gambia, or at Mosambique ; but to pursue afsiduously the-two cbjects of which I have been speaking. It would be then that they might with truth sing their Togus aurt, their Tagus with golden sands. Such ate the inestimable fruits of industry, and of the 1493 literary olla, No. x: 219 useful researches of true philosophérs, which conduct men to their solid happinefs, in their industry, in their labours, for which their creator has formed and destined them. The Rufsian empire contains climates «nd soils perfect- ly proper for this cultivation. I declare to you, gentle- men, that if I had the means, I fhould be even jealous to see any one going before'me in putting the first hand to it. Iam with a very profound respect, Gentlemen. Ge. SS LITERARY OLLA.: No. &- For the Bee. Gray the Poet,—A dialogue concerning Youth. Continued from p. 181. _ Walpole. I see you are a close and faithful. disciple of Locke ; but may it not be plausibly objected to his sys- tem, that he begins with that which ought to be the final purpose and finifhing stroke of education. : Gray. think not. I rather conceive that the objec- tion-arises from an incorrect view of the subject. The very vocable exprefsive of instructing young peo- ple (1 believe in most languages,) is explanatory of Mr Locke’s system, and of my meaning. Education is in its significant analysis, a leading, or a drawing forth of the elements of reason, for the establifhment of a reasonable, useful, and benevolent creature, in a prudent and respecta- ble member of human society. By observing the discourse and actions of children, it may easjly be perceived that they begin to exercise the faculty of combining their ideas, of comparing, one with the other the objects of their immediate attention, and arranging these things accarding to the design they have concieved, Such is the first effort of reason, which is nothing more than the faculty of arranging. 220 iiterary olla, No. x. Oct. 9# If it so happens that children are defective in their combinations, this defect generally arises from their want of attention to some intermediate idea which their eagernefs made them lose sight of, though it is often an idea very simple in its nature, and much within the ex- tent of eir capacities. This is the important moment | to suggest this idea to them, and they will speedily, of their own accord, correct their reasoning. In this manner, in my opinion, children may be taught ‘toe. by reason. g with them. We too much under- value the capacities of,children, and too highly over-rate our own : Suppose a child to be scrawling un some paper, and that he makes an attempt at drawing the likenefs of a man and a house. He draws the man out of all proportion to the house, Take him out of doors, and let him see his error. He then begins to lay things together, and attempts to make these objects proportionate. How many results he may be made to draw from so simple an accident! and how much may not his rational faculties he enlarged by judi- cious management ! The next step, with respect to a child ; and this you will think very strange, is to give him an idea of govern- ment; and I would give it him thus. He has a little 'mefsage to go,and as a reward for his going it properly, I give him a bit of cake. A stronger boy ravithes it from him, and he comes to complain. I call the other boys together, and I inquire into the truth of the matter. It is proven; and then I make the boys, in their turn, say whether they think the robber ought to be, punifhed. They all agree that he robbed the child ; and I punifh the delinquent : but not till two days ai- terwards, that it may be done seriously andcalmly, without the appearance of revenge. The boy who was robbed comes » 7993+. Iiterary olla’ No. x... i See himself to intercede, and I greatly commend him ; but £ do not mitigate the punifhment of the dilinquent. ' The whole of this operation teaches the boy and his compani- ons the nature of justice, and the benefit ofgovernment, or at least gives them the ideas of power and. protection, of good and evil, duty, authority, and obedience. West. Jam very much struck with the simplicity and. . force of this reasoning, and it agrees with my own expe- Fence. : In the summer of the year 1737, being then of Christ Church Coilege, | pafsed some weeks most agreeably at a gentleman’s house in the country, who hada fine young family ef children, of whose education both he and his wife took a singular and most succefsful direction. I remember I was highly pleased with their manner of teaching them the principles of duty, good conduct, and benevolence. - JT fhall mention +a few of the occasions on which they artfully infused important good principles into their chil- dren. One of their children had, in spite uf repeated injuncti- ons, climbed up a tree in a dangerous situation, close by the river. When fawning on his mother,’aud prefefsing tender Jove to her, the said “ No no, dont talk to me any more of your love, if you loved me you would obey me, and not make me unhappy by exposing yourself to danger.” Again. Another of her children havinz got himself into an out-house, locks the door upon himself, and cannot open it again; he remains there two hours in agony, and is relieved by a beggar boy, who palsing by, goes in ie the window and lets out the child. He runs home in transport, but for some time forgets his deliverer. The father afks him how he got out? ‘Who Jet him out? and where is the beggar? You little 222 literary olla Nox, °°». Ob. @% rascal, will you endeavour to do nothing for the poor beg- gar. Then the. heart of the little boy is all on fire to do something for his benefactor, and he begs a dinner for him, and something for covering his nakednefs in the ri- gour of winter. Will you give up your own dinner then to day for the beggar? Yes, oe to-morrow too, and the day after to- morrow too, papa! This wasa fine lefson. Leta child be born in whatever sank of life he may, we cannot fog often remind him of the miseries of life, and the vicifsitude of fortune, or too often inculcate the lefsons ot gratitude and of benevolence. Again. One cf the girls was particularly fond of trappings and drefs. One day her mother, after having chid her for this fol- ly, orders a fine saddle and furniture to be put upon an afs ; and bringing the girl that way, fhe tells her that fhe has got a fine little pad to fhow her, and produces the afs in gala. Dear mama! that a’nt a horse! that’s nothing but the milk afs, mama. O no my dear, it was the milk afs in the morning, but mow you see | have made it a fine pad by putting this saddle and furniture opon her. It’s fue clothes you know mifs, that distinguifhes you from the poor girls in the vil- lage, and soif they had your fine clothes they would be fine mifses too, woud’nt they? The girl saw the force of © the ridicule immediately, and not long after the force of the argument. These are, I think, sristak lefsons that are not above the capacity of children, and may, when the occasions offer, be succefsfully raised in order to inspire them with a love of rae and to deter them from the practice of vice. Walpole. Gentlemen, your system is good, and your il- lustrations are admirable; but how will you contrive ts $793. a squib, "223 get your plan put in execution? At the age when young people of fafhion do the physical world and the beau- monde the honour to beget and produce sens and daugh- ters, they, theillustrious parents, are too busy with the duties ofa court, of the ridotto, the opera, the card table; and the pleasures of social intercourse, to have any leisure for su- ‘perintendins the education of children ; so that they wisely make use of the noble privilege of peerage to decide the merits of the question 4y proxy, without heating or attend- ing to the arguments. A party always comes in the way to prevent them from attending to the nursery -. Vive la jeunefse ! Vive la joye! Vive le beaumonde ! > A squib from the American Gazette. AN APPEAL FROM THE LEGS TO THE HEAD. FOR A MORE EQUAL PARTICIPATION OF RIGHTS AND PRIVILEGES. Sheweth, Tuat the legs coming into the world at the same time, and often before the head, the latter cannot, in point of birth, claim any greater privilege than the former. That the legs have been always of the utmost importance and utility to the bead, conducting it to and from ali ‘places of businefs, profit, and pleasure, and were the first who razsed it to its present exalied station. < That in armies, the legs have been occasionally found 2 “grand specific against gunfhot wounds, bruises, dislocations, and even death itself, by running away with the headto a place of safety ; witnefs a laté great example, where the legs, by the wonderful and almost unprecedented powers of their swifinefs, saved little fhort of four thousand magna- nimous, freeborn Frenchmen. That in many particular clafses of life, the legs actuali iva “and Lona 4de, support the head alteigedine as in couriers 245. 2 sZuih. » Ot 9: enairmen, running footmen, dancing-masters, cOrn-cutters, penny postmen, and rope dancers. ‘Lhat in consequence of thése, and many other similar’ benefits, of which they are to the head- They conceive they ought no longer to submit to those base offices which are afsigned them. That it is an hardfhip, an injustice, and a degree of slavery, incompatible with the rights and privileges of free-bcrn legs, daily to be obliged to wade through muck and dirt, suppurting the whole weight of the head, who of- ten sits up in lazy state, curled, bedizened, and bepow- dered. That the legs are entitled to some nobler capacity, some more clevated situation. “That having nerves as well as the head (the pretended seat of intelligence, ) their opinions ought not only to be ta— ken, and their will consulted, but all the arrears due te their bixth and long services, fully and completely allow. ed them. That-for this purpose, and availing themselves of the present fopsy turvy disposition of the world: they demand, claim, and insist, thatthe present position of mankind (which they have arrogantly enjoyed now near six thousand years) be instantly fhifted, and that all men in future be obliged \ tostand upon their heads, instead of their legs, an elevation which the legs conceive they have been long smce fully entitled to by the laws of rotation, and which they like-. wise conceive to be most likely to produce that equality of representation, which fhould always be preserved by members of the same body. Signed by, and in behalf of himself, and the afsociate legs of Great Britain and [reland, April the first, World turned up-side down. Bandy leg walk. Lec Bait THE YELLOW GUM PLANT OF BOTANY BAY. THE BEE, LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER, FOR Wepnespay, OcToser 16. 1793. DEscRIPTION OF A SINGULAR PLANT FROM BOTANY BAY. ; With a figure. Tue plate that accompanies this number, exhibits a representation of one of the most singular vegetable productions that has been discovered in our late set- tlement in New South Wales. The stump is peren- nial, but the leaves and seed stalk are annual. The perennial stump rises to the height of six feet ot thereby, is of a conical fhape, and hard consistence ; but whether it be internally of a fibrous texture like wood, my information does not enable me to say. On the surface it is covered ail over with blind # wart like tubercles or excrescences, somewhat resemb-= ling the protuberances of pollards, that swell out be- low the place where the tree has been cut over ; but from these no stems ever fhoot forth. There oozes out from the whole of its surface a great abundance of a viscid juice, of a yellowifh colour, which accumu. lating in the hollows, becomes a semifluid concretion VOL, XVii. FF 2 ' t 228 — description of a Botany bay plant. Oct: 16: of a gummy nature, which the natives make use of for nearly the same purposes.as we might do tar; employing it as a kind of cement for joining pieces of wood together. But though they be often much pinched for want of food, I do not find that ever they have been observed to eat it, The qualities of this gummy substance have not, that I know of, been ascertained by any chemical analysis, or economical experiments. It seems not to be in the smallest de- gree of an inflammable nature : for though it is very common in those parts for the natives to set fire to the dry grafs that at certain seasons covers the whole surface of the ground, and though by that means these stumps that grow up among it are in general so scorched as to have afsumed a black and smoky appearance, yet they never seem to have actually taken fire, or to have suffered any material injury from that cause. ; The leaves are broader and more rigid than any kind of grafs known in Europe, but they are neither so stiff nor so thick as the finest of the aloe tribe. The flower stem is solid, not tubulated nor jointed. It is of a firm, woody, fibrous consistence, very tough and elastic. It rises to the height of six feet or more, and is quite straight, and smooth on the surface ; it is therefore employed by the natives fdr fhafts to ‘their darts, and other purposes of that sort. I fhould think that some of these rods must have been brought to Britain. But none of them that I have heard of have as yet reached Scotland. On the top it sup- ports a panicle containing secds, the whole panicle not unlike in appearance to that of the elymus are~ OO 1793: on the best mode of carrying burdens: 229 naria; but its botanical characters I have not been able to ascertain. é The Europeans there commonly distinguifh it by the name of the yellow gum tree. Some se@ds that were sent to the Botanic garden here under that name, have vegetated. The plants have at present exactly the appearance of a kind of gtafs, not having as yet discovered the rudiments of any kind of a stump rising above ground. . se BURDENS. For the Bee. "Traveriers of learning and refined taste are, by the publifhing of their discoveries and observations, con- tinually furnifhing instruction and amusement to men of letters and philosophical speculation ; whilst men in a more humble situation, such as I, to whom the description of a painting, the dimensions of a statue, or the analysis of a piece of ore, can afford no enter- tainment, must confine their observations to the rud- ‘er and more common objects that occur in society, and elude the attention of those more accomplilhed per- sons. Confined, however, as our range must be in our humble sphere, we may perhaps sometimes have it in our power to suggest to the public overlooked trifles that may in Some degree promote the welfare ef man. In this view, I fhall send to the Bee my observa- ‘tions in a journey to London, on a very common ob- ‘ject. 230 on the best mode of carrying burdins. Oct. 16: The porters in Edinburgh, and I suppose through- out Scotland, when carrying a burden on the back, stoop forward, and pafs the belt to which the weight is appended, over the top of the head; by which means, if the burden is nearly of as great a wéght as the body would be able to bear, the head must be much hurt, and health of course impaired. Practice how- ever renders them insensible of the inconvenience ; and as men usually do, they follow implicitly the - custom handed down to them from their parents, without ever thifking of the advantage or even pof- _ sibility of any other method of carrying their bur- dens. On the same principle, another equally absurd and still more pernicious practice is continued by the ba- kers in Scotland. Their apprentices, usually at first young boys, carry the bread to their customers o- ver the whole town, on a board resting solely upon the head, withaut any thing that can in the smallest degree alleviate the prefsure on that tender part of the body, still more tender inthose growing youths than in up-grown men. Hence it is evident that ei- ther their constitutions must be impaired, or lefs work can be done than there would, if a better man- ner of doing it were adopted. A person that never saw or heard of any other mode of procedure, is not much struck with these absurdities, as they are ren- dered familiar by habit, and an improvement on them does not readily suggest itself. This istalso the case in regard to many other articles of domestic economy; for a person travelling through the country sees in an infinite number of particulars a different practice pres 1793: on the best mode of carrying burdens. 231% vail in-one. county from that which is followed in another, without any attending circumstances that could authorise a difference, the one of which is much better than the other, and prevented from be- ing made universal, merely by ignorance and esta- blifhed custom. Such ignorance ought to be removed ; and on that account I am eager to mention the practice that prevails in London in carrying burdens, by whigh not only the danger of injuring the health of the labourer is removed, but also a man can with ease carry a burden a half heavier than he could by the Edinburgh mode; it is simply thus ; ; ” A firm cufhion stuffed with straw in the form of a erescent, the two horns joined by a piece of belt, is put on the fhoulders, the joining belt, being pafsed over the forehead to prevent the whole from slipping off. The cufhion being as deep as the height of the head and neck, the whole weight of the burden rests upon it, and of course ultimately on the thoulders, whilst the man stands nearly erect, (the position in which he has the most carrying strength,) and the head remains unhurt. This very simple and effica- cious instrument, the London porters call a knot; and in my opinion it ought to be recommended to all persons carrying burdens, and particularly to the baker’s apprentices. But if the porters in London alcavee more judge- ment than those of Edinburgh, the Leith carters on the other hand excel those of London ina still higher degree ; for there can be no doubt, that a single man with a poor horse not worth ten pounds, anda light Leith cart, will perform as much, I would even ven- 232 on varieties of domestic animals, — Oct. 16. ture to say more work, in a day, than a lubberly London carter with his huge waggon and three hors= es like elephants, can do; as could be easily demon- strated were it not for taking up too much of your room. It is by thus comparing the practice of the people in one part of the country, with that of another, in things that are common to both, that the mind of a sensible man is enlarged by travelling ; and in this way it may prove useful even to Edinburgh dug. 1793. A City TRAVELLER, \ THOUGHTS ON WHAT IS CALLED VARIETIES, OR DIFa= FERENT BREEDS OF DOMESTIC ANIMALS, SUGGEST- ED BY READING DR PALLAS’s ACCOUNT OF RUSSIAN SHEEP. Continued from p. 161. "Turse observations may tend to explain in some measure the cause of a fact that has been often noted, but never, that I know of, accounted for; viz. that animals in a wild state, preserve in general, a great uniformity of cclour, and are little ~diversified in appearance, whereas among domesticated animals, a much greater variety is observable in the colour and appearance of the individuals of the same kind. This phenomenon I think may be thus explained . when an individual of an uncommon colour or ‘p. pearance chances to be produced, especially for the first time, among a race of domestic animals, which before that period were generally uniform, it would 2993- on varieties of domestic animals 233 be looked upon, as a great curiosity, it would of course be valued—preserved with care—and its de- scendants, if bearing marks of the same sort, also pre-~ served. A male and female of this kind being onc® obtained, this diversified breed would be perpetuated ; and these afterwards intermingling with others, would destroy the uniformity of appearance of the wild breed. Another diversity of colour or appearance, being in the same way selected, this also would oce casion frefh room for new diversities. By a si- milar mode of selection, continued forages, some persons fancying one variety, and some another, it. must at last happen that the diversities will become so numerous, as that the original breed can scarcely be distinguifhed from the others. Now, although similar accidental diversities of an individual, sometimes occur in a state of nature, these, for the reasons above afsigned, are quickly lost; and the general breed continues unvaried. That such diversities sometimes do occur among wild ani- ‘mals, is well known by every collector of natural curiosities. I have myself seen a blackbird, rT. meruda, of a milk white colour, that was fhot in a wild state, I once saw a rook mottled black and white, exadtly like a magpie, among a great flock of others. I have seen a tame white mouse ; and a whole nest of young mice were once brought to me, consisting of ten or twelve, which were either white or mottled, and I think few or none of them were entirely of the ordinary mouse colour. This I presume had heen the progeny of a mouse probably pure white, with a mate of the usual colour. If among this nestling, VOL. XVile GG 234 ‘on varieties of domestic animals. Oct. 16. there were a male and a female pure white, there. is little room to doubt but a breed of white mice, might have been procreated, if these had been fhut up to- gether. IT was at that time so much hurt by the ra- vages of mice, that I was glad to get them all de- stroyed, so that mo experiment was made of it ; I have since regretted it was not done; and this fhows exactly what may be expected to be done among do- “mestic animals, and what does actually happen among wild animals, in cases of this kind. Probably no marks of tde white black bird, or of the pied rook, “were preserved among the progeny, or they would be soon absorbed in the general mafs. ! Another circumstance that may occasion a diver- sity among domestic animals, which has not been much attended to, though individuals must have, on many occasions, remarked it is, that though the family likenefs, if you please, or the distinguifhing peculiarity of the breed, will sometimes be totally wanting in owe individual of the breed, yet there is a tendency to revert to it; and it will often happen that the progeny of that accidental* variety, will re- semble the parent stock more than the immediate pa- yent himself. A man, for example, who, from a casu- al individual deviation, bears no resemblance to his father, may have a child that is the exact picture of its grandfather. In like manner a horse, which has been casually black, though descended from a breed, the general colour of which is white or grey, may %* We call accidental such citcumstances as we capfiot account for in matters of this sorte Se 1793. oz varieties of domestic qnimals. . 235 produce a grey or white foal, even from a black mare. Instances of this kind sometimes occur; but these are matters not worth pursuing farther at pre- sent. Gy din The diversities that man may thus artificially pro- duce in the animal creation, may be not unaptly compared to many of those produced among vegeta- | bles, by attentive observation and careful selection, nearly of the same kind. It often happens, that the leaves of a tree or plant, from the operation of some cause that eludes our search, become either wholly or in part blotched, or stained with stripes of white or yellow or red, in various ways. If plants having these peculiarities are multiplied, cither by parting the roots, by cuttings, by buds, or by layers, as the na- ture of the plant admits, the peculiarities are often preserved, without variation, for any lengthof time ; and thus a new variety is produced, which never would have propagated its kind so as to perpetuate it, but for the attention and care of the cultivator*. In this manner are our nurseries and gardens filled * It frequently happens among plants, that a single branch or twig only is thus blotched in the parent stock, while all the-rest of the plant retains its original colour ; and it is well known that if the col- oured branch, and'‘that of the natural hue, be both separately propagat- ed. they each for the most part retain the colour and qualities of the parent branch from which they were taken. The diversities in this respect are various. I haye just now ‘in my pofsefsion, a plant of the scarlet Lychnis vulgo, ticanis Chalcedonica, obtained from seeds, a variety of a white colour. This if propagated by slips, preserves its variety ; but at the present time it is in flower, and having several stems, one of these has fhowed itself of a red col- our, though it is only a branch from a larger stem, all the other flowers of which are white. 236 on varieties of domestic animals. Oct. 16. with striped and blotched leaved plants, as our ‘court yards are with poultry of various colours, which never are preserved, while they are in a wild state. Thus dees man produce varieties both in the animal and vegetable kingdoms, that are differcnt from those diversities that nature had ~ originally formed ; but these are ‘of a lefser kind, and though differing in certain respects from the parent stock from which they sprang, they still re- tain the general habitudes and appezrance of the pa- rents, and may rae be recognised as their descend- ants. In another manner man has it in his power to diversify the breeds of animals, (and of some vege- tables) to suit the purpose he has in view. All the varieties of any one species of animal are seldom to be found naturally in one place. One kind prevails in one region of the world, and another kind in an- other district ; and so of a third or fourth, or any indefinite number. Each of these pofsefs certain pe- culiar characteristic qualities, which may render one breed much more proper for one purpose than an- other is*. To select from all this diversity, that par * I here speak as a practical improver, without hesitation or doubt; for in whatever way the philosophical question about the varieties of domestic animals may be finally solved, there can be no doubt, but that the practical farmer may safely trust to €ach breed propagating its kind in preference to that of another. Let the philosopher argue as long as he pleases to convince him that all the varieties of horses are the same, and that therefore it is of no consequence to him what kind he breeds from, seeing culture, food, and care, have produced all the diversities ; the plain farmer knows, that the man who wastoexpect to have a horse that would excel in the race, by breeding from a hea- vy Flanders mare and stallion, would be little better than a bedla- 1793. on varieties of domestic animals. 237 ticular breed which pofsefses in the most eminent de- gree the qualities he wants, opens up to the atten+ tive econome a wide range for observation and expe- riment. But if all this were done, his progrefs does not stop here. He may find, after he has examined them all, that certain peculiarities which might be useful to him, are not to be found in the highest degree pof- sible in any one of these. He may observe that if the carcase of one were mended in’ certain respects, by being blended with that of another, it would be better than either; and so of fleece, hardinefs &c. &c: so that by crofsing one breed with another, a mong- rel kind might be produced, that would be more be- neficial to him than that of either of the parents. Thus may he mix and compound them as it were at pleasure ; and in this way he may produce another diversity of breeds, that nature never would have produced without his intervention, Thus does it appear that animals, if left to breed by themselves in a wild state, would naturally pre- serve the varieties distinct and separate from éach o- ther, so as seldom if ever to produce any new va- rieties, and that of course if there had been originally but one only of each species, the probability is that that one kind would never have deviated into a great mite. Here therefore I with to put philosophical subtleties, which © may have a tendency on some occasions to confound the understand- ing, entirely out of the question, and refer to plain matters of fact. A- pout po/sibilities, our limited knowledge forbidsus*to pronounce; here a probability, which may be as ten thousand to one, is, for every practical purpose, to be considered as a certainty. 238 | on varieties of domestic animals. _ Oct. 16; diversity of kinds. And though after they come under the power of man, he may produce certaia lefser va- riations, that may be deemed a kind of varieties ; yet as these his artificial productions, are never any thing else than either small modifications. of a par- ticular breed, which still retains its general qua- lities distinct, or an evident compound of two kinds already known, we may in general conclude: that as certain breeds of sheep, we will say, which are placéd at a great distance from each other, and distinguifhable by very striking peculiarities, are to be found in si- tuations where the hand of man can scarcely be sup- posed ever to have had a preceptible fhare in altering them by culture, there have been originally aconsider- able number of varieties of this useful species of ani- mal, which were endowed with different qualities, in- stincts, powers, and propensities; and that it behoves us now to ascertain, by careful observation, and ace curate experiment, the distinguifhable peculiarities of each variety, if ever we hope to draw the utmost pofsi- ble benefit from the rearing of it. . The p actical inferences from the whole of this investigation then are: That there are to be found dispersed over this globe, many varieties of every species of useful domestic animal : that the particular distinguifhing peculiarities of each cannot be known, until they fhall have all been examined by persons of fkill ; and accurate comparative trials made, to as- certain all these peculiarities : we can never therefore say that we have reached nearly the ultimate per- fection that this department in economics is natural- ly susceptible of, till this thall first have been done. — £73. on Ditrieties of domestic animals: 239 If this were once done, it would not be a matter of very great difficulty, to judge with a probable degree of certainty, of the means of producing a mongrel breed that fhould tend to augment the pecu- liar qualities that were wanted at the time*. And if both these improvements were effected, the ultimate degree of perfection in any one respect can * It has been often afserted with great positivenefs, and ‘is very generally believed, that an infertile breed of animals produced be- tween two distinct speties of animals, as the mule procreated be- tween the horse and the afs, or the jumarre between the cat- tle tribe and the horse, pofsefs qualities that render them much more valuable than either of the parents by themselves; certain qualities in- deed that seem to be sui generis, and not mereiy a compound of those ‘of the two parent animals. I pretend not to say that this is certain, but if it be, it may afford reason to believe that mongrels, producéd between two varieties of the same species, may in some respects pof- sefs not only the compounded qualities resulting from a mixture of the two, but some other peculiarities superadded, that may render them still more serviceable to man. In confirmation of this opinion, I have, since the above was written, met with the following remark, in a book entitled a general view of the agriculture of the county of Middlesex, drawn up by Thomas Baird, for the consideration of the board of agriculture and internal improve- ment. ” Speaking of the improvements by the celebrated Mr John Hunter at Earls court, in the parifh of Kinsington, he says p. 42. “ This gentleman has at present a very beautiful little cow froma Bufaloe and an Alderny cow. This animalis in some measure kept for her beauty: and what adds toit, /be is always plump and fat, avhether in summer or winter, and upon much lefs food than would be sufficiect to support a beaft of the same sixe of the ordinary breed. I do not find that fhe exceeds in quantity of milk, but the quality is very good, andit is certain fhe tan be emi at much lefs enemies than an ordinary cow of the same sixe.” Ifthis thould be a general rule, and not a particular exception to it, it would be a very beneficial improvement indeed, Farther ex+ periments must ascertain this point. : 240 on varieties of domestic animals: Oct. 16. only be attained by a continued careful and uninter- rupted attention to the individuals of the. breeding stock, that with a distinguifhing cye every valuable peculiarity which accidentally arises, may be instant- ly siezed and perpetuated, and every hurtful singula- rity, be carefully banithed from the breeding flock: Among the females this is of great use ; but among the males, the importance of it is proportionally gteater : for a female can only rear one, of at most two young in a season, so that the flock is either be- nefited or hurt to that amount by her progeny 5 but above an hundred may in some cases spring from a single male, and of course the flock will either be de- teriorated or improved in the same ratio, by a judici- ous choice of the male ar the reverse.* % No attempt that I know of has ever been made in practice to ob- tain the improvements that might be gained under the two first heads, unlefs the trials now making by the society for improving Bri- tifh wool; and those made by some enterprising individuals, as War- ren Hastings Esq, Sir Joseph Banks, Mr John Hunter, Thomas Johnes Esq, M. P. and a few others, who have of late imported from distant regions some valuable domestic animals not hitherto known in this country, not for the purpose of being led about as a fhow, to amuse an idle curiosity, but for the purpose of propagating their breed, and thus giving room tor comparative experiments between these and other animals of the same Kind, may be so called ; and the alterations that have been made by importing horses sata England, and breeding from them, which give ample encouragement to follow a similar plan for i improving oth r breeds of domestic animals. With regard to the last mode of improvement, that by selection “ only of the best individuals of the same kind, and breeding from these, the practice of Mr Bakewell, all of whose experiments are reducible to this clafs, abundantly fhows the amazing lengths to which improve- ments may be carried by this kind of attention continued for a long time- This man, whose name will long be mentioned with respect among agvicultural improvers, raised his flock by this means ~ . » ~ e “ge » a 1793+ curious phenomena in natural history 241 - ON THE MOST STRIKING AND CURIOUS PHENOMENA OF NATURAL HISTORY. Byg ARcTICUs. Continued from p. 201. Botany Is the other subject I proposed as a source of amuse- ment to your readers ; and in fact, the order, ar- rangement and laws of the vegetable, are not lefs admirable than those of the animal, kingdom. Here the wonder and astonifhment of man is equally rais- ed, on seeing somethiwg like instinct, governing the movement of plants, which have their regular hours of sleeping and waking, like animated beings, with a certain degree of sensibility, and even predilection for particular objects, positions &c. How are we astonifhed likewise at the wonderful provision made for the dispersion of seeds, when we see that to alone in the course of a few years to such a degree of superiority a- bove others, that spirited farmers in his neighbourhood seeing the benefits that would accrue to them from pofsefsing a superior breed thus improved, as early as pofsible, hired the use of some of his rams for one season only, at great prices. I have been credibly informed that for one particular ram has been drawn .t the rate of ONE THOU; SAND POUNDS STERLING, in one season. Foreigners will, from hence, with astonifhment perceive the energy which the hope of gain inspires in a free nation, where personal property is entirely secured by the mild protection of the law impartially administered. This ought to be considered as a lecture in political economy of infinite importance. ** He that hath ears to hear let him hear,” that his understanding may be enlightened } - VOL. XVile HH f 242 curious phenomena in natural history. Oct: 16. 138 genera something like wings are given, to faci- litate their being carried by the winds to distant perts. The seeds of 2y more are darted to a great distance from elastic seed vefsels. 50 genera which require dufg for their cultivation, are furs nifhed with little hooks by which they adhere to the Coats of animals, and are carried to their place of a- bode, where they find the required soil. 193 genera are planted by beasts and birds, often pafsing through them with little detriment to their vegetats ing powers, particularly the berry and stone fruit kinds ; even man himself, plants some of the last, in 2 rich soil, independent of his labours in the field ot garden. It is in this manner that frefh dung will fill the eleaneft ground with plants, which pofsibly had just been rooted out with much labour, and it is likewise thus, that oats will be sown in a field of rye by 4 flight of larks, to confirm in appearance the fhort lived ridiculous hypothesis of the transmutation of grain, which has had its supporters like every cate reverie of the human brain. Other seeds, like those of a species of century, aré covered with erect bristles, and thereby havea sort of creeping motion, insomuch that no art can confine them in the hand, sleeve, or bosom. The seeds of the equisetum or fern, present a most curious phenomenon when viewed through a microscope on a piece of paper, as they are'seen to leap over minute obstacles, so as to he taken for cheese mites, by those unacquainted with the curi- ous fact. Nothing but the walls of a barn can pre- 1793- curious phenomena in natural history. 243 vent the escape of the bearded or hygrometer oat, which twists itself out of the glume, and makes off, to the great ease of the Dalcarean peasant, its great cultivator, who is spared the trouble of threfhing it; but he must take cate to fhut the barn door, of his oats may stray to that of his neighbour: We see the very minute seeds of 14 genera of mfsoes, fungi, byfsus, and mucor, which float in the air like atoms, carried by the winds to all kind of Situations, even the tops of walls, houses &c. to take pofsefsion however only of such spots as are uns occupied, and which probably would even have re- mained barren, had not these lowly grovellers, which Linnzus calls the dabourers of the vegetable kingdom, prepared the ground for plants of a su- perior rank, protecting and watering them at. the $ame time, during their tender infancy; nay even the vegetable nobles, the proud trees of the forest, owe similar obligations in their tender years, to these same protecting and fostering plants, which inattentive man often treats with contempt, and re gards as a nuisance, with the no lefs useful insects and reptiles. Nature employs still other means for the necefsa- ry dispersion of seeds ; as rivers transport them from one province to another, whilst the sea wafts thom from their native, to foreign thores. Of the ex- istance of both these modes of conveyance, the in- defatigable Linnzeus, was convinced by his own acs curate observations. He found for example many Al- pine plants in Lapland, carried and planted by rivers thirty-six miles distant from their natural place of 244 curious phenomena in natural history. Oct. 16. growth, and some foreign plants, as the German cen+ tury, and the veronica maritima, brought and planted by the sea on the fhores of Sweden. Linnzus brings likewise some facts in proof of his general doctrine of the dispersion of seeds by the winds ; vzz that the Ca nadian erigiron or flea bane, was dispersed from the botanic garden of Paris over all Europe, the antir- ghinum minus, or lefser toad flax of Bauhin, from that of Upsal over the whole province, as were the datura or thorn apple, the cotula or may weed, and the American gnaphalium or cudweed. But nature has made as curious, wise, and effectu» al arrangements, for the preservatzon, as for the dispersion of seeds. A few of these we fhall likewise just hint at as a subject of admiration and wone der. Eighty-six genera of plants, whose situation, on the bare sea-fhore, exposes their seeds to become the prey of fifhes and birds, the almighty has hid from them in seed vefsels so exactly resembling /bel/s, that they escape notice and destruction, being confounded with the millions of real fhells scattered upon the fhore. As an example of this curious fact, the seed vefsels of the medicago or medick, the salicornia or marth sampire, and the salsola or glofs wort, resemble the cockle so exactly, that they pafs unnoticed with that fhell. Other means of preservation comes. from the facul- ty given to some plants of hiding their seeds in the ground, such as the subterraneous trefoil and lathy- rus, with the arachis or ground nut &c. whilst the seeds of others are preserved 2 most astonifhing 4493. curious phenomena in natural bistory. | 245 time in the ¢arth, without losing their vegetatiag powers; examples of this fact we See in the thistle, and the lobellia or cardinal flower, which have been known to remain in the ground twenty years -with- out injury, and the hypecoon forty, whilst the seeds of the melon, of cafsia, and of sensative plant, retain their vegetating powers for forty or fifty years. In fhort it would be endlefs to point out the won- derful ways that providence takes to preserve from extinction every species of plant, as even the very animals are made subservient.to this great end ; as those who feed on fruits and seeds, hide them in the ground, where they often take root by the ne~ gligence, forgetfulnefs, or death of the owners. Thus the squirrel, the mouse, the jay, &c. plant muts; and many insects plant corn, and other seeds. I fhall now finifh my second letter with a fhort note on the sleep of plants. The vigil and repose of plants, one of the most curious subjects in natural history, merits some slight notice here, qualities pofsefsed in 2 most emi« nent degree, by what have been called the solar plants; more particularly by that subdivision of them named Lguinoxial, which observe more re- gular hours, and are lefs affected by the state of the atmosphere, than either the tropical, or meteo-~ rical, the other two subdivisions. The great Linnzus, found the hours of opening and fhutting of the equinoxial plants so exact, that he composed a sort of garden clock from them, suf 7 245 a vegetable clock and barometer. ~Oet. 16: ficiently accurate for common purposes, which any of your readers may pofsefs, by setting the twelve following plants in a row in the order here set down, all of which are either indigenous or naturalized in Great Britain, and seven of them grow wild in Scotland, which I have distinguifhed by the letter (S.) before the hour indicated in the margin.—If£ the sketches given in these two letters excite. your correspondents to treat the subjects hinted at, it will give pleasure to imp. corps of Noble Cadetsin St. Pete use. | December i 79+. ARCTICUs. CE eS eee —— A VEGETABLE GARD.N CLOCK WITH TWO VEGE= TBLE BsROMETERS. Hours . of As there are but ten of the Eqninoxial pening plants which open at stated hours, the two or ~ first on the ‘ollowing list, are taken from Shutting hose which /hut at a given hour. Shut at LEnglifh Names. Linnean Names. 1 Proliferous pink. Dianthus prolifer. 2. Marsh sow thistle. Sonchus palustris. Open at S. . 3. Yellow goats beard. Tiagapogon pratense: - 4 Yellowdevils bit. Leontadon autumnale, S S. 5 Common sow thistle. Sonchus oleraceus. bs) s Spotted hawk wecd. Hypocheris maculata. 6} Narrow leafedbuthy Averactum umbella- ditto. tum. : » Broad leafed ditto. Mveracium sabaudum: 8 Narrow leafed ditto. Meracium auricula. 5 (Smoota dityo. FT pocheris glabra. { Carolina mallow. Malva Car oliniana: ————— 7793: _ curious facts, -a4y open at Enghfp Names. Linnean Names. S.. io Garden letuce. Lactuca saliva. Alpine bastard hawk mM weed Crepis alpina. 12 Blue flowered alpine. Sonchus alpinus. To this curious vegetabie time piece, a couple of vegetable barometers may be added, which act upod Similar principles, and are likewise sufficiently ac- curate for the gardener and farmer. The first baromes ter is the African mary-gold, or CALENDULA pluvialis. If the African mary-gold opens not its flowers in the morning about seven o’clock, you are sure to have rain that day, except it is to be accompanied with thunder. The second barometer is the Siberian sow thistle, or sonciius Sibericus. If the flowers of the Siberian thistle keep open all hight, you are sure of rain next day. TWO CURIOUS FACTS RESPECTING NATURAL HISTORY. SIE. To the Editor of the Bee. Your correspondent M. has mentioned a pretty cu- rious phenomenon, in vol. 13 p. 286 of the Bee, which you have explained in the.most satisfactory manner. I will beg leave to add a similar fact, to which, though I had it from the most undoubted au. thority, some years ago, I could not give the full afsent of my mind, till I read the above paper. It will serve, at least, to corroborate your, opinion. A knife found in the heart of a growing tree. Two men in Kofs-ihire being employed, sawing some large fir trees, observed a long black streak in ene of the planks, pretty near the center, where, 248 curious facts: Oct. 16, on examining into the cause, they found, to their.no small surprise, a large &nife inclosed, of a kind very much used in this country of old, which could not be accounted for, but in the manner you mention. It will no doubt, be urged as an objection to the truth of this, that, as iron is of a corrosive na- ture, the knife would have been consumed with rust, during the very long time it must have lain there ; it was however, far from that, though a good deal rusted. I suppose it would have continued to rust, till the tree closed about it so as to exclude the air, but afterwards, that it would not consume any more. This however, is but a conjecture. 4. much more wonderful faet than the above (to me at least) fell under my own observation a few days ago, which I would willingly see inserted in the Bee, if you thought it might serve any good purpose ; or, if there is any thing new to you in seeing Muscles in the heart of solid stone. A gentleman in one of the most northern parifhes in this county having occasion to burn some lime, was carrying the dime stone from an adjacent island; in the sea, below flood mark. Upon breaking the stones, to prepare them for the kiln, they were found to contain several living muscles, some of them about the size of French beans. I was on the spot, saw the phenomenon, but could not explain it. I need not mention the queries that would occar to a superficial naturalist, like myself, upon seeing the above. I have only further to add, that every mus- cle, at whatever distance it was from the sea, had a communication with it, by a very small hole quite through the stone. Iam, ir, Th, R. eutherland, May, 93. ’ , | POETRY. THOUGHTS SUGGESTED B¥ READING, LINES ADDED By Mr Hastines to Mukie’s Lusrab. For the Bee. Tw the tenth book of the Lusiad of Camoens, the goddefs predicts to Gama the future conquest of the Portuguese in India. After detailing the heroic actions of Pacheco, fhe laments his fate in the following pafsage, to which Mr Hastings, continuing the predictions to his own times, added the succeeding lines, whieh are distinguifhed by inver- ted commas. The additional thoughts are marked with single com - mas. The lofty song, for palenefs o’er herspread, The nymph suspends, and bows the languid head ; Her faultering words are breath’d in plaintive sighs. Ah! Belisarius! injured chief, fhe cries, Ah! wipe thy tears ;—in war thy rival see, Godlike Pacheco falls despoiled like, thee ; In him, in thee, difhonoured virtue bleeds, And valour weeps to view her fairest deeds : Weeps o'er Pacheco where forelorn he lies, Deep in the dungeon’s gloom, and friendlefs dies, ** Yet fhrink not, gallant Lusian, nor repine “* That man’s eternal destiny is thine! ** Where’er succefs th’ adventrous chief befriends, ** Fell malice on his parting step attends; * On Britain’s candidates for fame await, ** As now on thee, the stern decrees oi fate. “Thus are ambition’s fondest hopes o’erreach’d ; “ One dies imprison’d,—and one lives impeach’d.” * And, let ambition’s hopes be thus repaid, « * Tic kind philanthropist indignant said. * Ambition! cursed pest of human kind, * Whose cruel vot’ries, impotent and blind, * Still hope, through guilt, tranquillity to gain ; * Butin its stead find only grief and pain. * Vaily they try their guilty heads to hide * Amid the dazzling glare oi pomp and pride ; * Stern nature still aiserts her sov’reign sway, . “ Nor dare they her dread pow’r to disobey. VOL. XVII. Bk ep ee + a 250 poetry. Oct. 16. “Death bath murder’d sleep,” they cry, ‘ With frantic gesture, glaring eye, * As starting from their troubled couch they rise— ** See! see! the struggling innocent!—it dies !” \‘ The mother who till now hung o’er her child ‘ With anxious hope, and trembling fear, ‘ Now rolls her eye with chilling horror wild, * And marks the horrid scene—-without a tear ‘Her hufband’s mangled corse pollutes the plain © Which by his toil was fertiliz’d in vain. * Her all is gone, ‘ And the, poor helplefs innocent is left alone. ‘Incapable of thought, a while the stands, “With drooping head, and folded hands, * Then starting from her trance, fhe rapid flies, © And plunging im the deep indignant dies. “If such the scenes which recollection brings “Dearly is bought the pomp and wealth of kings |” ‘ And though ambition’s mignions this may Giory call _ * Shall justice fheath her sword, nor let it on the dazzling'culprit fall.’ TimotHy Harrerain. ———————— SSE ee -THe Drum. I nATE that drum’s discordant sound, Parading round, and round, and round ; To thoughtlefs youth it pleasure yields, And lures from cities and from fields, : , To sell their liberty for charms . Of tawdry lace and glittering arms; And when ambition’s voice commands, To march, and fight, and fall in foreign lands. J I hate that drum’s discordant sound, * Paitading round, and round, and round. To me it talks of ravag’d plains, And burning towns, and ruin’d swains, And mangled limbs, and dying groans, And widow’s tears and orphan’s moans; And all that misery’s hand bestows To fill the catalogue of human woes. - Vs a THE WAY TO GROW RICH. Two tradesmen, in converse, were striving to learn,” a What means to make use of great riches to-earn; . A friend who sat near them atlvis’d with a smile, \ * Live on half of your incomes, and live a long while? y , BIOS" _ kiterary olla. No. x. 251 LITERARY OLLA. No. x. For the Bee. Gray the Poet,—A dialogue concerning Youth. Conunued from p, 181. Walpole. Your principles, gentlemen, are just, and your reflections excellent ; but give me leave to say, that your plans of education are better adapted’to people of fortune and eminence, than to the public at large. Much has been talked and written concerning a code of education ; but this would be incompatible with a free go- vernment, and would require in every different case, a dif- ferent mode of application to the situation, capacity, and genius of the subje-t. By what means then do ye think it pofsible to- establifh and diffuse among the people, modes of education productive of useful knowledge and of virtue ? ' Gray. My plan is not above the reach of people of the middle station and fortune; and were it once establith- ed as the best for them, it would soon be adopted in the schools for the people at large. Europe, and particular. ly our country, swarms with societies for the incour age- ment and improyement of sciences, arts, manufactures, and every thing that can either amuse ér enrich the public ; but I never heard of a society for the improvement of this most important of all public works, the formation of good and useful citizens. _ A society of this nature once judiciously formed, would lead to thousands of the same nature, and to the general adoption of a system for the improvement of the human mind, in knowledge and virtue, without entrenching on the freedom of families in the management of their chil dren, 252 literary olla, Nox. WT TAL. ' It hath always been my opinion, that, next to a well poised and well administered government, a virtuous insti- tution of youth, is the most effectual method of giving ef- ficacy to the laws, and prosperity to the state. Indeed, I might well have given it the first place, if I had not made the art of government so much my study, as to foresee the practicability of a system of government | being arranged so.as to produce the effect desired, without the interposition of the legislative power, or the invasion’ of the sacred right of domestic authority, The formation of a brave, well organised, and good citizen, ought to begin indeed from his first origin ; for it is impofsible that the spawn of enervated luxury can grow into any thing that can be fit for great occasions, The mind cannot act in a feeble body forthe great and | energetic purposes of society, Nerves, but not the nerves of modern tone, are supereminently required, and you must make your pupil a man, betore you can think of making him good or great, The next step towards the preparation of the man of my system, is the exposure of his body to the greatest pofsible number of harmlefs excitements, and his mind, through that only medium, to the greatest pofsible number of elementary imprefsions, whereby the first is strengthen. ed, and the latter informed experimentally with nature and sentiment. I would have my pupil nursed by a robust, sensible, talkative mother, if he has one, and if not, by a nurse chosen for such qualities. He ought to walk | without help: if he is properly trained, in his eartiest in- fancy, and, by €xposure to various little accidents, he will gather acquaintance with all the objects that are a- _ bout him, be able to keep himself out of the way of mis- chief, and to help himself on a great many little occa- sions, ; 1793- literary olla Nowx. j 2 Leg "It is the want of institution which occasions the ’ despi- cable helplefsnefs of our modern noblefse. Accustomed from the cradle to do every thing by proxy, they afsume’ this privilege of peerage throughout the whole of their existence ; they cannot buckle their own fhoes, fhave their beards, put on their cloaths, act in their own busi- nefs, keep their own accounts, pay their own debts, or . even be at the pains to continue their own families: All is to be done by proxy, all through the media of valets, frizeurs, gentlemen of the chamber, attornies, chaplains, or , Stout [rithm an. ’ ‘Children educated in crowded hospitals, where, from their number, and the mercenary unconcernednefs of their attendants, they are notexcited by various objects and , events, or by the novelty and variety of conversatiun, are in general powerleis, helplefs, and dull in their concep- tions. The faculties of the mind, as well as of the body, be- come paralytic by disuse. The ear is provided with mus- cles of erection, and I have known individuals who could prick up their ears like an afs; but almost all of us have lost this faculty by. early ligature, or by disuse. My next maxim, relating to education, is, that it fhould be suited to the climate, government. and religion of the cquntry,. and to the probable situation of the individual in that country. po After the years of infancy, therefore, my pupil is gra. dually formed by his nurture to the general scope of his future life ; without permitting, however, aay extraordi- nary marks of genius to escape unnoticed, whereby his parents or guardians may be enabled to regulate the quan- tity and quality of his intellectual food. . If he is the child of a great nobleman, and solitary in the family, let his father generously take ithe charge of ? 254 titerary olla, No. x. Oct. 16, two or three children of his friends or neighbours, of the same age, and put them under the tuition of a gentleman, . fit at once to perform the part of a father, a friend, and preceptor ; for it is with concern that I am obliged to remark, that men of our condition, who have the, gifts of fortune, and have not been bred, like us, in the school of adversity, have seldom any thing but wealth to fitthem for those important functions. . . . My pupils, thus situated, are to appear constantly at the family table, or in the public rooms at meals, They are to be encouraged in the fharpest and most critical at- tention to the virtues, oddities, and aukwardnelses of each other, and to excite and improve each other by innocent and gay exercises of this sort, so that their capacities may be continually strengthened; For wit, humour, and ster- ling good sense, cousist in little more than a conception, more or lefs rapid, of the minute and characteristic rela- tions of things, exprefsed with more or lefs gaiety, con- trast, velocity, or correctnefs. As my pupils advanced, I would have them sent to public schools, but under the same eye and tuition, and that private fhould be judicious- ly mixed with public education, so as to do no more than to hold up as it were the chins of my pupils till their feet touched the ground. I would have them taught to labour by themselves; I would have them inspired by the love of virtuous ame and the admiration of illustrious characters. I would rather see the tears standing in their eyes, when they read or recited the stories of the death of Bru- tus, Cato, Helvidius Priscus, Arulenus Rusticus, Thrasea Peetus, and of Arria, than melting with the fictitious and enervating sorrow of a love novel, or gaping at the ridi- culous immensity of a fairy tale. I would have them trained to an uncontaminated appetite for truth, exercis- £793: literary olla, “No, x. 255 ing itself in the careful collection of intricate but useful information, and to fear nothing so much as to be outdone by their clafs fellows. This mode of education I would continue, accompany- ing it with the manly exercises of wrestling and the chace, until their bodies and their minds were fully invigora- ted. They fhould not leave the schools till fifteen, nor the - colleges until twenty-one; and four years more I would ‘allot for the study of politics, the belles lettres, beaux ‘arts, and ‘to foreign travel. To the present mode of education may be imputed the frivolity and indecency of our women, and the want of learning and public spirit among our men. Our women are educated in general more upon the oe of governefses, opera girls, or fortune hunters, than of wives and mothers. They are taught, with, or without genius or fortune, to speak a language for which they have little or po use in this country, and which leads to the expensive fopperies on/y of a great and respectable nation, whom we venture to call perfidious, because it withes to oppose the the tyranny of a nation that would usurp the freedom not only of her own distant subjects, but of the nations of Europe and of Asia. They are taught, with or without genius, to play on musical instruments, to sing, and to dance a minuet, which their countrymen in general have either not abili- ties or taste enough to dance with them. All these accomplifhments are attempted to be taught - within the compafs of three or four years; and the plain girl, with five hundred pounds fortune, is educated in the ‘game manner with the beauty who has five thousand. 256 Uiterary olla. No x. Oct. 16. Useful needle work, and the occupation’ of the lovely daughters of king Alcinous, with the economy of a table, the history of their country, their father and mother’s fa- mily, and those illustrious women who have adorned their sex, and blest their families with examples worthy of imitation, are considered only as secondary objects. The education of our men is quite of a piece with that of our womesi ; all the pursuits of a wonderful Chrichton are crowded into the compafs of a few years, during which time there is little or no discipline te correct the natural sloth and idlenefs of youth; neither are they war- ned against the effeminate practices of young men, at the critical age of puberty, which exhaust the vigour of man- | kind, and wither the stems of families. They are taught to consider money, acquired by any ptofefsion, however mean or grovelling, nay even by ga- ming, by rapine, fraud, and murder, as the only roads to distinction, in a country become altogether venal, and that venality even sanctified by the monstrous nature of the constitution of the nation itself. " From schools and colleges, the young man goes abroad, or fixes in a profefsion. If he goes abroad raw_and un- principled, he goes not like the wise Ulyfses, to study the manners and _laws of natieas, more polifhed than his own, but the opera girls, and fopperies and fafhions of o- ther countries, which have the same tendency in all ages, ' and in all cotntries. If he fixes in a profefsion, he carries along wyiele him the idlenefs and difsipation of our seminaries of learning. He scorns to labour a lifetime for an honest progrefsive acquisition of profit, but boldly ventures to cast the for- 9) tune of his lifetime on,a single dye. Indeed, who will | labour for a lifetime, when he thinks he can gain it in” half an hour. 1793- ‘> on salt duties. i Bem He sees also, that, in this country, the acquisition of a fortune wilt tanctify, or at least conceal, every villainy, and that it matters not much whether four thousand pounds a year are acquired as a reward of the virtues of a Chatham, or for starving a million of Gentoos on the o~ ther side of the Ganges. Letrer From Mr Fraser or Lovar, RESPECTING SALT DUTIES. Ir gentlemen of family and fortune were totutn their attention ,. to things of equal importance with that which forms the subject of the following letter, we fhould soon feel the beneficial effects which would result from it; but idlenefs is not the best school for reflecti- on, nor wealth and power the most likely means of increasing wise dom or knowledge. It is not therefore surprising that matters of - this sort fhould often elude the notice of men of rank; nor is it to be wondered at that the effurts of men who move in an inferior rank to introduce these to the notice of the public, fhould sometimes be overlooked, seeing it often happens that designing men contrive to mislead those of higher rank, under specious pretexts of public Spirit, the fallacy of whose reasoning they are not able to detect. It is very doubtful if more hatm to the people has not originated in plans suggested by self interest, thowgh pretending to aim at no- thing else than the public good, than from all other sources put to- "gether ; and as this has been frequently remarked, it has cooled the zeal with which men in power listen to such proposals, From these considerations, the editor of this humble miscellany, who has fre- quently exérted his feeble efforts to turn the attention of the pub- lic to this important subject, is by no means either hurt or surprised at the little effect it has produced ; (for small is the number who know him so well as to be able to perceive that his personal inte- yest can in no respect be affected by it ;) but he is so firmly convin- ced of the benefits that would result from an elucidation of this subject that he fhall omit no proper opportunity of bringing it into view. On this principle he thinks the following letter deserves to _be wel! considered. In the follow ng number he proposes to submit tojthe publica memorial on the same subject originating in a .espec= VOL. XVITs KK t a53 on salt duties. Oct. 16 3 . table source, which will more clearly explain some circumstances that are only hinted at here, that are very little known by the pubs lic. , To Tue Freenoupers or THE County or Inverness. ‘¢ T-wave the honout to transmit the inclosed, which as convenor you will please to lay before the fhire at the first_or Michaelmas head court, as it may throw some- light on a subject which deeply interests the well-being arid presperity of Scotland; and as measures of public u- tility fhould be cooly deliberated, they require steadinefs and zeal ia their purswit. : “ } had the honour to addrefs the fhire on the sub- ject of the coasting coal duties—I have now to solicit your attention to the consideration of those on salt 5 so as to procure, through the solicitation of your member in parliament, or other legal mode, such an arrangement or commutation of the duties on salt, as may enable meat salted cr smoked, and fifh:cured wet or dry, on the coasts of the kingdom, to find their way to the home market of our cities and manufacturing towns, cured in the whole- somest and best manner, for the use of the poorer as well as the richer inhabitants. -©* Such an arrangement duly obtained will further open ° that which has hitherto been locked up, ho matter by what oversight, and will complete the circulation which must arise from the coasting commerce of this kingdom— Coal and lime will go morth,.and’salted and cured: meats and fifh come south in return; the numbers of seamen will be increased, filheries and cattle-raising promoted. - “Tt can hardly be too often inculcated, that.the coasting trade i is the first stage in. the nursery, for forming of. sea- men. -Old:seamen naturally become fifhermen ; and their children, taught by example, thick of getting: their Bredd rS «Ad vY 1793. on salt duties. 259 on the water: It is not so easy to lead plouzhmen or herdsmen to become seamen or fihermen. “ T have a few words more to mention on the subject vof salt. At Learne, in Ireland, I have seen large cu- bic chrystalized salt, made there by means of Scots capi- tal, Scots workmen, with Englifh rock salt, and as much } xith sea water as would difsolve that rock salt. Ihis at pre- sent would be an illegal transaction in Scotland, yet, if made legal, would not only open the cvasting trade and fifheries, but bring food cured in the wholesomest and best manner to a home market, and be the means of re- lieving the effects of season and climate in a northern la- titude pretty generally, and, in times like these, the dis- trefses of the grazier in the more northern parts, and the operative mechanics in the southern; for when there is no demand for cattle, and they are fat, they may be salt- ed and cured various ways, which with their hides and tallow may be sent to market. And. in times of stagna- tion and distrefs of manufacture, the operative people, by means of salted meat and fifh, with their vegetables, will do very well. Ina times of prosperity they will be, ena- bled to bring their goods to market on easier terms. “ The Canadian is permitted to freeze what he cannot support with winter provender, and that way carries it to market. Salt of a proper quality is requisite to do the same thing in this climate ; and as the law stands at pre- sent, any Britith subject may supply the French general Santerre, but may not relieve the necelsity of the poorer inhabitants of Leith or Edinburgh on the east coast, or the operative manufacturers of Glasgow or Paisley on the west coast of this kingdom. (Signed) A, Fraser, Lovat,” 260 letter from the king of Prufsia to Voltaire, Ort. 166 Sir, ‘ ‘Tothe Eduor of the Bee. A copy of the following letter was in the pofsefsion, of a deceased friend of mine. I believe it is not in any pub- lication of the late king of Prufsia’s works ; but if you think it worthy of a place in your Bee, it is much at your service. 1 am Sir, with great respect, yours &c. J. F. Copy of a letter from the king of Pru ta to Viltaire.—1460. I have received with pleasure two letters from you at one time. Prithee confefs, has not my. large pacquet of poetry appeared ridiculous to you? I fancy myself like Thersites, who attempis to compete with Achilles. I hope in your next to have a criticism upon what I have written, as you used formerly to let me have when I was a poor private inhabitant at Rheinsberg ; where the un- fortunate Keiserling, whom I regret, and fhall ever re- gret, gave you his tribute of praise. But Voltaire is be- come a courtier, and he can now part with nothing but. praise, and truly this may be the least dangerous trade of the two. Think not however, that my poetical self-suffi- ciency can be offended with your corrections ; I have not the folly to think that a German is capable of fhining in French poetry. Be so kind then as not to spare me, I know it is very pofsible to write better than I have done ; but then I fhould be glad co be told how. Are you not of my opinion, that writing verse well is a good introduction to writing prose well? will not this render the style more energetic, particularly if the writer is on his guard not to loxd his prose with epithets, cir. cumlocutions, or too poetical weer i 1793. letter from the king of Prufsia toVoltaire. 26% I am enamoured with philosophy and verse. When I speak of philosophy, 1 mean neither geometry nor meta- physics ; 3 the former, though sublime, is not made fora man who is to mix with society. I leave this to some dreaming Engliihman ; iet him govern the heavens as he will, I am contented with the planet which I inhabit. As for metaphysics they are as you have jusily termed them a bladder filled with wind. Every journey through these Tegions exposes the traveJler either to the precipice or the abyfs ; and I am persuaded that nature has not for- med us to guefs at her secrets, but rather to follow im- plicitly the plan fhe proposes. Let us draw all the ad- vantages from life that it is capable ot affording, and not trouble our heads, whether we are acted upon by superior agents, or directed by our own free will. If however I may venture to hazard my sentiments upon this subject, it appearstto me, that our pafsions and circumstances ever determine us. It you go still higher, I confefs my igno- rance. I well know that by my will I am drawn to write verses, whether good or bad; but I am ignorant whether there may not be some external compulsion in the case. Ifit be so, I am. displeased that this compul- sion does not make them more agreeable, Don’t be surprised at my ede upon war: these are, { afsure you, my sentiments : You must distinguith the statesman from the philosopher ; and you ought to know that we may make war from reason ;' may be po- liticians from duty, and philosophers from inclination, Men are never placed in this world according to their choice. From hence it appears, that there are so many bad coblers, bad priests, bad statesmen, and bad monarchs jn the world. Yours dc. de, ' Faeperick. 262 \ k gndes indicatorius, Cet. 16, Inpex InpicaTortovs. Continued from p. 192. W. M. favoured the Editor long ago with some imitations of the stile and manner of writing adopted by the translators of the Englith Bible, which he did not think would prove acceptable to many of his tea- ders. Along with this came some detached remarks, of which the following is a specimen. , * Inorder to understand the beauties of an author, it is necefsary _ to be in a situation somewhat like to that in which he was, and ime prefsed with ideas somewhat similar to those which he had when he wrote. If this be admitted, there is not a proof more demonstrative of the depravity ef those men’s minds who slight the bible, “ Happinefs and misery are pretty equally blended together in human life : there is as much of the former as may reconcile us te life, and as much of the latter as may preserve us from too much ate tachment to it, ' © Those men who are somewhat callous in their feelings, enjoy life with an equanimity of mind which renders it perhaps as agreeable to them as it is to uthers of more acute sensibility ; for though they may not be susceptible of so much pleasure from many smail incidents that daily occur, they are equally invulnerable by those of an a tye “ Perhaps the pleasures of manhood and youth are in like manner nearly equally balanced. In youth, while the pafsions are all alive, the imagination lively, and the sensations acute, the happinefs that is sometimes experienced is exquisite; but the miseries that are suf- fered before it has learnt to combat, far lefs to conquer the ills of life, are equally acute. In manhood the happinefs is of a more temperate and rational kind, arising from the succels of plans digested with care, the fidelityof persons whose characters have been investigated with a cautious circumspection, and the consciousnefs of obtaining the good will of those who merit esteem; but the very caution that guards against the exquisite miseries of youth, allays in like.manner the raps trous sensations of pleasure of which it was so extremely susceptible.” Aristides complains of the partiality that some masters {how to one apprentice in comparison of another, with regard to the instructing them ia their-calling. ‘f It is well known, he ‘says, that it isin oe 1993. 3: index indicatortus. . . 263 3 very maste?’s power to give what kinds of work he pleases, to his ser-: vants in trade; of consequence his opportunity to opprefs some and raise up others, who may have cringed in order to curry favour, is great: and I am sorry to add, this power, by the vain or the wicked master, is oftety abused.’’ He then uses many mofal arguments to difsuade them from following such a ptactise. But where a man is so wicked as deliberately to adopt such an iniquitows practice, argu- ments drawn from the beauty of moral rectitude will probably be lit- tle regarded. I would therefore add that few things can more di- rectly tend to hurt the master’s own interest. An unjust conduct is soon observed, and rever fails to. procure the ill will of the injured person, and the contempt alike of him and the person who profits by the partiality ; none of them, therefore can ever have his interest at heart, and the difference that is between the forced services of one who secretly despises his master, and the cordial alacrity of one whe esteems him, is infinite. There is another evil however that too often is experienced by ap- ptentices respecting masters, that this corresponde:t has totally over- Jooked. It is the carelefsnefs with:-which.the masters too aften in- Struct their apprentices in their respective vocations, and. even the care with which some of them conceal the most important secrets of their businefs from their apprentices, from a jealousy that they may come to rival themselves-in businefs. This is such. a direct breach of one of the most sacred confidential compacts, asto daserve the severest punifhment of the law wherever it can be proved; for it is a species of robbery committed upon a hélplefs individual under trust ; and is of a. nature infinitely more atrocious ‘than that of robbing on thé high- way. Thisis an evil which is. now become very common, espe cially in businefses where high apprentice fees are paid that it well deserves to be adverted to. : _ The following effusion, called a reveree of a ci-devant, (that is gentle Englith reader, a late) country. dorzize, (I follow the ae is given verbatim. ' “ Latin is, on all hands, considered as the handmaid of science in. the three liberal piofefsions. It has the sanction of antiquity orf jtsside; and it still continues to be the favourite language of the jearnedin Europe. It pofsefses a beauty and an energy peculiar to itself. With irresistible force it strikes the mind, and leaves impref- sions which the hand of time cannot efface. At the court of Augus tus; the patron of learned merit, Latin was:both spoken and writtest 264 _ to correspondents. Oct. 165 with an ease and elegance which no language either, antient or mo- decn Qu. is the writer acquainted with all these) ever attained. The few authors of the Augustan age, (an era sacred to fine writing,) who have survived the wreck of ages, and who are thoroughly refined in the furnace of time, bear ampie testimony to this afsertion. The writings ot Virgil, Horace, Cicero, and Livy, are models which we can neither excel nor equal. ‘Chey are monuments of antient literature, with which fortune has honoured the labours of industry, of taste, and of genius; and which, in her goodnefs, the has deigned to transmit to us as objects worthy of our praise and admiration. a TO CORRESPONDENTS. The second favour of Criticus is received: As are also the two com- munications by Mica, and the communications by Aristides—all of which fhall be duly attended to. The critique by Trath Lover is too severe,—but with a little soft- ening fhall have a place. Y A Reader, if at all inserted, must find a place in the Index Indica- . tors. ‘5 The remarks by Mica fhall appear when a corner can be spared which will snit them: If the performance figned Pematef, be intended for irony, it is not sufficiently pointed to answer the purpose.—TIf it be serious, it is too absurd for publication. The printed communication, signed Exstache de S: Pierre de la Val, does not pofsefs so much originality as would be required to intitle it toaplace asarepublication. — pes The additional remarks by 4 Rider are received, and fhall appear with thé firft conven ency. The favour by Extractor fhould have been sooner acknowledged,— but it was overlooked, having slipped unobserved between the folds of another paper: A Correction. ; The Editor is much obliged to R. J. for cotrecting an error respec= ting the little filh which was figured, Bee, vol. 15. p. 153. which is there said to be a non-defcrip,—though this. obliging correspond-' ent says it has been described by Gmelin, in his excellent edition of the works of Linnzus, under the name of Perca Polymna, and has been figured by Blosch, Tab.325, and Klein, Tab.2. F.8.—As the Editor is ‘so profefsed naturalist, and has no opportunity of consulting the best books on that subject, he does not pretend to guard against mistakes of th.s kind, as he must, in uncommon cases, rely upon the information of others. But where he is misled at any time, he will always be ready tocorrect his mistakes. Indeed it isno part of his plan to teach natural history scientifically —though’ it be entirely compa- tible with it to throw in siight notices on this subject occasionally, that may have 4 tendency to excite the attention in a certain degree to this Important branch of science, | THE BEE, OR “LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER, FOR WepNESDAY, OcTOBER 23. 1793. SeeeeeeeeeoeoeoeoeoeoeEeomoaoeaoaoaoanaAnc) ooo ORATION To THE MEMORY OF PETER THE GREAT, DELIVERED BEFORE THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCES AT ST PETERS- BURGH,.ON THE 26 OF APRIL 1755, THE ANNIVERSAY RY OF THE CORONATION OF THE EMPRESS ELiza- BETH, BY Micuaet LomonossorrF. Translated from the Rufsian tanguage, For the Bee. : hough no species of composition isso disgusting as orations consist. ing of fulsome panegyric on living princes, in swoln and hyperbo- lical language ; yet when truth forms the basis of such orations, under the influence of genius guided by firm rectitude of mind, it may perhaps be accounted the most interesting and agreeable mode of conveying historical information in regard to important transac~ tions. In this light the following oration may be deemed a valu- able morsel of Rufsian history. Yo read with satisfaction an animated oration, it isnecefsary we fhould put ourselves in the place of the speaker, that we may be able to enter into the views which animated him at the time, To do this on “WOL, XVil, be 4 266 oration of Lomonofsoff. Oct. 236 the present occasion, we ought to advert that the situation of Lomo- _-mofsoff was extremely difsimilar to our own. Wein Britain have been long accustomed to enjoy the protection of a steady govern- ment so entirely, that we have scarcely an idea of the miseries that those experience who have been exposed to the ravages of a- narchy and misrule. Lomonofsoff from his infancy, had been wit- nefs to the horrors which originate in unstable government ; and had been exposed to the innumerable evils to which unprotected indigence is perpetually subjected in such a case: Yet stimulated by the amazing powers of his own mind, he had struggled against difficulties, that to almost any other man would have been insur- mountable, and: at last had the happinefs tosee tranquillity restor= ed, the industrious citizens protected, and himself rais¢d from the -dregs ofthe people to enjoy a-most distinguifhed place in the couns. cils of his sovereign. In these circumstances, an excefs of gratitude would not have been anunpardonable failing ; and if this panegy- ric had been even extravagant, it could scarcely be condemned. Those who are best acquainted with the history of the princefs he served, will be the most disposed to join with the orator in his just praises of that amiable potentate. But it isthe actions of Peter, the father of his protectrefs, that attract ’ the principal attention of the orator, and form the chief subject of this animated oration. With a ‘bias no lefs ‘natural than just, the mind of Lomonofsoff dilates with wonderful pleasure on the exerti- ons of Peter. ‘Lomonofsoff fixed his mind steadily on Peter trom his birth ; he knew that he had been reared up in ignorance, and educa- ted in error: He saw him/in early youth afsailed by prejudices on every side, while the impenetrable gloom of ignorance, put it out of his power to distinguith the true road from those crooked paths into which his false guides were perpetually drawing him aside. He saw the hero groping his way with an unconquerable perseve~ _ yance, and at last tearing asunder the thick vail that had overfhaded the kingdom for ages; and at length bursting forth into the effulgence ofglory. Was it a wonder if the man who had, himself, experienced a similar struggle, fhould appreciate the merit of the person who had overcome these difficulties in more animated strains than those who never having experienced the trials, can have no idea of the merit of having overcome them. It was these great ideas filling the mind of the philosopher which rais- ed his language to that unwonted elevation, so conspicuous tow ards ial 5 2493: oration of Lomonofsoff: 209 the close of this oration; and it wasthat unaffected piety, which trying occasions never fail so excite in a great mind, that gave to the whole that dignified humility, which constitutes the surest, ba« sis of true pathos in composition - In reading this little performance, I have often been at a lofs whethet mest to admire the orator, or the hero who forms the subject of the ration. When I view the son of the poor fifherman of Archangel, without teachers, without books, surrounded by men little better informed than the fithes they caught; when I see him tofsed from hand to hand, through a vast vicifsitude of scenes in the lowest spheres of life, which had no common resemblance but the diffi culties that they all equally presented against the acquisition of knowledge. When I see that man.at last bursting through the gloom like the sun in the firmament, and delivering an oration fraught ‘with a variety of the most important knowledge in scien- ces and arts, my veneration for the man is little fhort of idolatry. I bend myself before thee illustrious Lomonofsof: Thy genius I ad- mire; but it is the rectitude of thy mind, and the mild beneficence ofall thy views which I adore. When fhall a gemius arise to do _ thy memory justice! Lomonofsoff alone was capable of esti- mating the genius of Peter; for he also had overcome impofsibili- ties. The record of the actions of Peter remain; and these, to the discerning mind will ever prove his best eulogium. The writings, of Lomonofsoff are preserved. In future times, these - will turnith a copious subject for admiration to persons yet unborn! I bend before thee illustrious Lomonofsoff! It is impofsible to say how much I venerate thy name! ORATION. ! Ix celebrating the most sacred unction and corona- tion of our most gracious sovereign,* we see, heare * This was Elizabeth the youngest daughter of Peter the great, by Cathrine his belaved queen. From the death of Cathrine in the year 4727, tiil the accefsion of Elizabeth in the year 1742, the Rufsian empire had been exposed to a variety of distrefses under the cruel sway of the imperious Biron, (of whose wonderful history a thort abstract is given, Bee vol. 6 p. 13s.) and other intriguing statesmen and favou~ tites, under a rapid succefsion of weak princes, till at length by a well concerted effort, the partizans of Elizabeth effected a revolution, with- Gut bloodfhed in ome night, by which the infant Joha was set aside, 268 ofation of Lomonofioff. Oct« 235 ers, the same divine condescension to her, and to our ¢ommon country, at which we wondered in her birth, and in the attainment of her patrimonial rank. Her birth was made conspicuous by signs foretelling regen ey; her accefsion tothe throne by an unseen power from on high; and the joyous afsumption of her father’s crown, by miraculous victories from the hand of the Lord. Did any one entertain a doubt whether po- tentates on earth are appointed by Heaven, or whe- ther they attdin dominion by chance, the birth of our great sovereign is sufficient to convince him, see- ing that fhe was then chosen to rule over us. It is neither the doubtful guefsings of astrology founded © on the conjunction of planets, nor other changes and appearances dependent on natural causes, but evi- dent intimations of divine providence, that serve-as proofs of this afsertion. Peter’s most glorious victo- ry over his enemies at Poltowa happened in the same year with the birth of his great daughter ; and Eli- zabeth on entering the world, met the conqueror éntering Moscow in triumph. Is not the finger of Heaven here obvious? Do not we hear with the ear of imagination, a voice proclaiming, “ Behold, and Anne of Mecklenberg his mother, who acted as regent in his name, and Elizabeth establifhed on the throne. Under her reign Rui- “cia once more attained a stability of government somewhat of the same nature it had experienced during the latter part of the reign of Peter; but with the favourable difference of a gentler ad- ministration and lefs severity in executing the laws, so that the people experienced a degree of happinefs they never had formerly enjoyed ; and the empire attained adegree of respectability among neighbour- ‘ing nations which it had lost for many years ny the cruel anarchy that had there prevailed, 1793: ‘oration of Lomonofsoff. 269 behold a consummation of that prosperity promised by prediction.” Peter triumphed, having conquered his foreign enemies, and eradicated rebellion; Elizabeth was born for like triumphs. Peter having restore ed a crown to its lawful master,* marched into the city of his ancestors — Elizabeth entered into human society, that fhe might afterwards recover the crown ofher father. Peter having preserved Rufsia from dis« memberment, dispelled gloomy terror, secured safety and joy: Elizabeth saw the light, that by fhedding on us the rays of comfort, fhe might disperse the dark. nefs of our griefs. Peter led a numerous train of prisoners subdued inore by magnanimity than by the sword: Elizabeth excluded herself from the womb that fhe might enslave the hearts of her sub- jects, by humanity, meeknefs, and liberality. How wonderfully, O hearers! is the council of God here manifested: birth and victory, deliverance to the mother, and safety to the native country, birth-day rejoycings, and military triumphs, swadling clothes, and victorious laurels, the first voice of infancy and joyous acclamation. Did not all these foretell to the new born Elizabeth, her father’s virtues, her father’s empire.t : * The reinstatement of the king of Poland who had been deposed by Charles xii, ~ + After Charles xii. of Sweden had obtained a seriesof the most ase tonifhing victories over the armies of Peter, without having even re- ceived any considerable check, he began to dream that he was invin- cible; and disregarding the obstacles that Peter threw in his way, made an attack on his army at Pultowa, against such a powerful and well situated army as it was impofsible to overcome. ‘After performing ao | aration of Lomonofsoff- Oct. 23: In the acquisition of this empire, our joyous re~ tmembrances will never cease to celebrate how much Almighty Providence supported her heroism. Our heroine, actuated by his spirit, and sustained by his strength, has secured safety and renovation to the Rufsian nation; to its well deserved fame ; to the: mighty works and plans of Peter; to the, intimate peace of our souls; and to the general prosperity of a distinguifhed part of the world. To save one ins dividual is a great matter; how much more the sale vation of a whole people. In you, my dear couns try, in you we see the example! Provoked by the mutual quarrellings of our ancestors, by their injuss tice, robberies, and fratricides, God had subjected you to a foreign tongue *, and on your body torn with cruel wounds had imposed heavy fetters. Ap- peased by your groanings and lamentations, he raiss ed up to you valiant chiefs, deliverers from slaves ry and wearinefs. These having collected your scats ‘tered members, restored and advanced your formet strength, majesty, and fame. The great Elisabeth, elevated by the divine influenée, to the throne of het prodigies of valour that seemed to exceed human powers, Charles heré suffered a total defeat, which so intirely destroyed his little army, as rendered him iacapable from ever after doing any thing. effectual in the field, and freed the empire of Rusia trom the cruel ravages of this furious madman. This memorable battle was fought on the 8 of July 1709. * Alluding to the conquest of Rufsia by the Tartars, and Poles, and Swedes, who had succefsively, for a period of two hundred years before the reign of Peter the Great, subjected Rusia to the mest hue Wiliating state of servitude. 29933 oration of Lomonofsoff. . 272 father, has saved the Rufsian people from no lefs 2 misery ; but in a more surprising manner *. As in- ternal deseases are most fatal, no danger nursed in the bosom ofa state is more dreadful than foreign invasion, External wounds are easier healed than internal injuries. Yet if we compare the liberatie on of Rufsia from the devastation of barbarous foe reign arms, with that wondérful deliverance from lurking internal confusion, wrought by the hand of Elisabeth, we fhall find the contrary. In healing our external wounds, the ficids and floods were no lefs impurpled with Rufsian than with Tartarian blood: but in these happy days, our gracious Elie sabeth, ina fhort space, has eradicated deep rooted evils without our ioils, and has healed our sick country, as with a word full of divine influence, ** Rise upand walk, rise upand walk Rufsia; fhake ** off your doubts ; full of joy and hope, be gay, be * happy, and be exalted.” It is the remembrance of the satisfaction that we then felt, hearers, that paints such images in our thoughts. But these are more animated when we reflect, that we are delivered not only from oppref. * The panegyrist alludes to the revolution in 1742, after the death of the emprefs Anna Ivanowna, Biron and his party placed the infant prince Iwan on the throne, in prejudice to the right of Elisabeth daughter to Peter the great. Elisabeth deposed Iwan without effue sion of blood, except what was spilt on the scaffold, which was incon~ siderable, if we compare it with the notions formerly entertained of ' the ferocity of the Rufsian people This princefs was so averse to blood that fhe abolifhed ali capital punithment; a plan of government which is pursued by the Great Catherine. 27% oration of Lomonofroff. Oct. 23. gion, but from dispite. What did the world say of us before our delizerance? Do-not their wotds still’ echo in our memories? ‘ Rufsians, Rufsians, you have forgot Peter the Great; You are wanting in gratitude for his services. They don’t raise his daughter to the throne: She is deserted, and they don’t afsist; fhe is despised and they don’t revenge.” O what fhame and derision! But our incomparable heroine has done away reproach from among the sons of Rufsia, and has justified them to the world. Our good will was not wanting, but her magnani- mity restrained. Onur zeal was not deficient, but fhe abhorred bloodfhed. To our cowardice must not be attributed what was the council of God; who was pleased in this manner to manifest his power, to fhow her fortitude, and to increase our veneration and our happinefs. Such mercies has the Most High secured to us by the advancement of great Elisabeth to the throne of her progenitor! But what is to day’s festival? The crown and con- summation of all. God crowns her wondrous birth ; he crowns her glorious accefsion ; he crowns her un- affected virtues ; he has crowned her with his grace § he has encouraged her with hopeful joy; he has blefsed.her with love sounding victories ; with vice tories similar to her progrefs to the throne; for, as her internal enemies were subdued without bleod, so her foreign foes were overcome with small lofs. Our sovereign arrays herself in purole ; is conse- crated to dominion, is crowned, and afsumes the globe and sceptre. The enraptured Ruofsjans fill 3993+ on Epicurus. 2972. the air with fhouts and acclamations. The enemy trembles and grows pale; they bend themselves, and turn their backs to the Rufsian legions : They hide themselves in marfhes, behind rivers and mountains ; but the powerful hand of Elisabeth every where ops prefses them, and it is oly from her generosity that they receive respite. How evident our afsurances of happy dominion ; we now wonder at its actual existence. After the example of her great progeni- tor, fhe grants crowns to sovereigns, gives quiet to Europe by her peaceful arms, secures the Rufsian succefsion. Gold and silver flow from the bowels of the earth for her own use, andfor the public ad- vantage. Her subjects are relieved from burdens ; the earth is untainted with Rufsian blood, at home and abroad ; the people multiply, the revenues ine crease, justice is regulated, arts are planted,—every where lovely peace, and times emblematic ot our so- Vereign, uninterrupted reign. To be continued. > ‘ : SKETCHES OF THE PorTICO IN THE GARDENS oF Epi. CURUS. For the Bee. To Foannes Amadies, Fune 12 1793. “ Etsi me vario jactatum laudis amore, Irritaque expertum fallacis preemia vulgi, Cecropius suaveis expirans hortulus auras Florentis viridi Sophie complectitur umbra.” Or the portico in the gardens of Epicurus! Yes Amadies however paradoxical this may appear, I VOL. ¥VII, MM < t ang on Epicur its. Oct.” 232 have seen it and am able to describe it, since I sure veyed it this morning with Epicurus himself, who deigned to visit me in an airy dream. For my sieep « Was airy light, from pure digéstion bred “ And temperate vapours bland, which th’ only soung “ Of leavesand fuminy rills, ‘Aurora’ s fan “Lightly dispers’d, and the thrill matin song “ Of birds on every bough ;”——-— ’ f had walked out earlier than usual at the fra- grant, cool, and pleasant time when every herb, and fruit, and flower was glistening with dew. A charming stillnefs animated by the music of the groves inclined me to the most chearful and pleasing contemplation of the beauties of nature, and when the Sun began to beam more fiercely on me than was agreeable, I retired to the fhade of my summer house, and seated myself on a torse of straw in the niche ef Epicurus, which I had chosen by accident. I was tired, and soon afterward I fell asleep. The Jast sound I heard in sweetly descending into the arms of the papaverous power, was the twittering of the swallow. Ah how delightful was ‘this mid-way hovering between the worlds of activity and rest ! Ah how delightful and happy were it to believe this to be an authentic emblem of approaching death te him who has not lived invain! I dreamt, and I saw as ] though: adva:.cing towards me on the ver- dant meadow near the obelisk dedicated to the ge- nins of ancient times, a venerable old man leaning on a staff that seemed to be oj maple. > His mantle was white, and app-ared tobe of the fis . nest.woollen, Sweetly smiliog and placid was his” : eee Sn ea at ’ 2793- on Epicurus. 255. countenance, and-down unto his girdle was his beard of grey, that yielded to the breeze as he walked for- ward to salute me. By-the trick of his face, and my remembrance of seals and statues, I knew him to be the antagonist of Zeno. I was overawed, but | was not afraid. - In silence I bowed to him, and he saluted me by my name. Ascanius, said he with a smile beyond the power of a Guercino or a Rheynolds to exprefs, I am come to visit you on your birth day, and to thank you for not listening to the calumniators of my life, my wri- tings and my character. From your ewn happy experience, you are able to sit in judgement on my judges, and to know that dirt, affectation of apathy, maceration of body, ob- stinacy in opinion, and the imputation of mutability and pafsion to the infinite and eternal spirit of the u- niverse, are not the ways to reform mankind, and to make them conformable to the eternal and beautiful order of nature, pofscfsing their bodies in healthful vigour by the rational use of all their faculties, and their souls in tranquillity by the practice of vir- tue. ; I came forth into the world at atime when the wealth of nations founded on free government, and the subdivision of useful employment, had long af- forded leisure for fanciful inquiry. I had a strong‘propensity to rational curiosity my= self, and 1 withed to promote it in others.—Af- ‘ter much study and contemplation, I founded .a ' school, and finding it impofsible as an honest man to 296 on Epicurus. Oct. 23. adopt the superstition of India and Egypt, which had gradually become so popular in Greece, I en- tered as it were into the recefses of my own unso- phisticated understanding, and applied the rules of common reason and sense to the pedantry of the . schools and the snpetstition of the people. When I taught tnat superstition had its origin in fear, I taught nothing that has not been evinced by the everlasting experience of mankind. When I re- ee the universe as infinite and eternal, I fhow- ed it in no other light than it must be Jooked upon for ever by those who consider the infinite power and duration of the spirit by which it is animated and directed. If I held the tendency of matter to be e- qual in all directions, and finally convergent no where, I taught only what must necefsarily follow from the infinity of worlds. If that nothing im the uni- verse was quiescent, on similar principles founded on the infinite activity of the spirit wherewith matter is universally pervaded and actuated. When I sportively yielded to the doctrines of Moschus, of Leucippus, and Democritus, that all nature was ina constant state of deperition and renovation, but final- ly inexterminable in its principles, I taught that which seemed at the same time to be most conforms able to wisdom and the eternal spirit of the uni- verse. . I did not consider the world and worlds as mae chines that required to be mended and renewed in their primary, or inferior and secondary movements, but 4s an infinite whole without error, emanating and acting uniformly from and with and around qn 1793. on Eptcuruse “259 infinite and intelligent spirit, whose nature and pro- pensity it was, and is, and ever will be, to connect wisdom and happinefs with order, and to blefs and make happy continually in the order of wisdom and conformity to universal nature. All these speculae tions are to me now as the playful mimickries of - children, or the wandering dreams of the contem- plative Hermit. But heaven has not deceived us. ‘Truth and reason with us are purged of doubt and error, but are the same in substance as when they were dimly seen, through the grofser medium of ters restrial organs. I lived and [ taught in a garden, not that I might pafs my days in indolence and pleasure, but that I might habituate myself, and my disciples to the lef- sons and admonitions of nature, and live ivochnie J on her simplest productions. I did not abstain from the use of animal food, like the superstitious Indians, or the self macerating disciples of Zeno 3 or from blood, like the Egyptians who, fond of flefh, made a compromise with the fool- ifh superstition of the Indians; but I lived upon cakes made of maize, and drank from the living fountain, improving and enjoying without intem- perance all the cultivated fruits of the earth, and using wine only in the feasts of friendfhip and com- memoration of the illustrious dead. ‘* Occupavimus te Fortuna atque cepimus, omnets aditus tuos intercludere, conavimus, ut ad nos adspirare non pofses.”™ 1 taught that the desire of, pleasure or happinefs wes the * Tusc. quest 5. 278 on Epicurus. Oct. 23, prime mover of the human frame and of the human mind, ‘and that in the pofsefsion or enjoyment. of real and permanent pleasure the chief happiuefs of man did consist, and I endeavoured to prove. that this pleasure was in the absenee of bodily pain, and in the presence of mental tranquillity by virtue. That sacrifices, and ceremonies in the temples, abnegations and macerations of body, or dejectiens of spirit in cloystered retirement, were of no avail for the favour of the God of the universe, nor any thing fhort of sincere confi- dence in his wisdom and goodnefs and benevolence towards our fellow crea‘ares, For these doctrines, and the abuse which was made . of them by some o my followers, I was railed at by the stoicks whom I railed not again, because I knew that in there austere pretences to superior vir- tue, and in the pride of their performances, they disdained my principles, which were founded on the weaknefs of human nature, and its improvement by rational and attainable purposes. " The doctrines of my garden, led to no lefs_ puri- “ty of manners than those of the Portico, but they led to them as an effect of my principles, and not as a foundation for spiritual pride, and philosophical ostentation. My disciples were temperate and cor- rect in their manners, but they were gay and chear- fal. Virtue and happinefs were with them insepa- rable; and I taught them to believe that they could not subsist asunder. 1 could never believe or teach that the world was disturbed by Demons, but rather that it was uniformly governed with perfect wisdom, | ; i A 2793" on Epicurus. 27g - But in a manner ultimately inscrutable to the wis- dom of man, though discoverable every where, ts faint but beautiful traces of the glorious system”. Having said thus, he paused, and I, though full of admiration and respect, was able in broken accents thus to addrefs the venerable man. . ~ O excellent and injured Epicurus! Thou hast now amply discovered that virtue did not deceive thee upon earth, but is the never failing triend of man. - I also desire to be fully persuaded that all rational beings were formed for each other and that bearing with them is a branch of justice and a source of hap- pinefs ; that mistakes are involuntary, and the ulti« mate affections of the heart almost always unknown: that health of body and peace of mind, which consti- tute supreme happinefs, can consist only in virtue producing in the body absence from pain and irrita~ tion by temperance, and in the mind tranquillity, by the love of order and by confidence in the perfectron of the Supreme Being and of the universe. Ah why fhould i suffer the little affair of glory to disturb me when I reflect how all the things that I admire {hall be involved in oblivion and in the vast immensity of eternal duration. \ How empty the noisy echo of applauses ; how _ fickle and injudicious the applauders ; how narrow the bounds within which our praise is coofined ; and that the earth itself, nay all that the finest glafses can © descry in the firmament, 1s but as a point im the infi- pity of nature! 280. on Epicurus: . Oct. ass Yes Epicurus, I also desire above all things to keep myself from distraction and from uselefs de- sires, to retain my freedom, and to consider every thing as a man of courage, as a man, as a citizen, as a poor and fallible mortal; that the world is in continual change, that this life is seated in opinion and will quickly pafs away never to return, while virtue and happinefs being seated in the soul must be eternal like itself. ‘ While I was thus speaking, T found myself drawn involuntarily to my Portico in the summer house, that I might fhow to my visitor the statues of Lu- cretius Carus, of Pomponius Atticus, of Horace, and of Gafsendi ; but in moving along methought I struck my foot upon a stone and fell to the ground, which awakened me in trepidation from my _ pleasing dream. I started up suddenly from my place, and beheld with great confusion betore my face, the statue of Epi- curusin the nyche where I had fallen asleep. As soon as I had recovered myself I went away with pleasing alacrity to afsist in the sowing of my tur nip. Felix ille animi divisque simillimus ipsis Quem non mendaci resplendens gloria fuco Sollicitat, non fastosi mala gaudia luxus: Sed placidos sinit ve dies, et paupere cultu Exigit inocu tranquilla silentia vite. 2793+ on delays in the court of Sefsion. 28 ON THE DELAYS INCIDENT TOTHE COURT Or SEssion. ‘Continued from p. 172. . To the: Lord Prestdent of the Court of Sefvion. pigtt © Letter v. _ My Lorp, Oor ancient laws and regulations, however vene- _ rable, cannot in every particular be well adapted to the manners and situation of the present day. Butas all human institutions admit of being modified, some of them 2re moulded by time and usage, into the form required, andothers requirea direct alteration, toanswer the-change of times. A gradual alteration has taken place in the mode of pursuing and defending an ac- tion. Unnecefsary procefses are no longer raised, to vex and harafs an opponent in place of aiding vor securing the recovery of the debt; and dilatory and unavailing defences are justly considered as un- - becoming the practitioners ; who are also in use to concert matters with each other, as to the time and manner of proceeding in the cause: but although, ‘by these means, a good deal of the former waste of ‘time is saved, much more must be done in order to attain the desirable object of cutting off as far as may be all unnecefsary delay. In nO one instance, is it more difficult to do so than in the case of an appointment to make up astate .VOL, Xvil. NN t 7 i ee ee ’ 282 on delays in the court of Sefsion, Octs23. and order of ranking. Such a state must be lodged Before the cause can proceed, bur yet the. common a- gent cannot lose bis cause, by not preparing it a- gainst the day afsigned to him; and although he were to forfeit his office, still his clerk or his friend might be elected, and he enjoy the profits, through acontinuance of the same_ favour and countence of his brethren, by means of which hé first obtained it. He might also find means to have a fine or a pe- nalty dispensed with, and even though the fine thould be rigourously exacted at first, the common ‘relaxation of it would soon take place. It is or ought to be a favourite object of new re- gulations to reach evils of this description. ~Atithe same time it is scarcely pofsible to suggest an -ade- quate remedy. What I would submit to your lord- ‘hip is, that the creditors fhould: be subjected sto; a lofs for the neglect of their agent, and that the clerks of court fhould have afee, (for example) of 2per cent on the fund of division, and also that a new fee ‘of the same amount fhould be due to them as often.as the common agent fhould fail to obtemper a renew- ed order for lodging the state. As such a forfeiture would embroil the agent with | the cretlitors, ,he would be careful neither to suffer . the lofs himself, nor by subjecting them to it, to in~ cur their displeasure. And from ‘the constitution ‘ “of the court, (not to mention the character of the members,) there can be no ground to) fear that the clerks and the practitioners could connive togethes in ‘such a case, ; 1793: ~— on delays in the court of Sefston. 283 In a procefs of ranking and sale, delays occur, previous to the order to make up the ‘state, one of which is not extracting the decreet of certificati~ on. It is not easy to compel the common agent to take out tke extract; but the interlocutor or de- creet itself may be made fima/ in two, three, or four weeks, as may be thought expedient ; and a regula- tion ought also to take place against opening it up — _on slight pretences, such as are admitted of at pre- sent, or indeed on any occasion fhort of minority or inability to act. This appears to be necefsary for bringing forward the creditors to produce their in- terests in proper time. . Other delays occur after the state and order is lodged. It always contains objections against num- bers of the zuterests or grounds of debt produced for the creditors. And before the procefs can tra- vel round the different doers, for these several cre- ditors, to have the objections answered in succefsi- on, not weeks or months only, but, whole se/sions are sometimes consumed. Almost an equal space - elapses in the making of duplies, and perhaps half the time may be taken as the medium for lodging replies ; but this letter is already too long to follow the subject farther, and therefore I hasten to close it, being &c. 3 LENTULUS. | 284 62 tthid sae in aeer ye >, Oct-26 ON IMPROVEMENTS IN ARTILLERY. * - Si, Io the Editor of the Bee. For two. reasons, I thank you for inserting in your useful miscellany, page 73 of this volume, the in- scription which] sent you from Stirling. The first is, because it is am example of that simplicity, which, in my opinion, ought to be in all such in- scriptions. And the second is, because it, conveys 2 most important truth to the lovers of mankind, and to the lovers of warfare. As I respect the author of it for these two reasons, I resolved to see him when I went to Glasgow, in order to hear his de- fence to my charge, which is in the following words in the same page: ‘* I am informed that the gentle- man who wrote the inscription has dedicated a great part of his time to the perfection of military engines of destruction. How he can reconcile his theory with his practice, pretend not to say.” When I urged this argument at some length, he said to me: ‘* yours is a common opinion both with the vulgar and the learned; but it is very far from being well founded.” And he then not only read to me the fol- lowing pafsage from one of his efsays on war, but he allowed me to take a copy of it. ‘¢ Those persons who have had the greatest know- ledge in military affairs have remarked, that victory is almost constantly obtained by producing unexpected danger. From which it follows, that besides the advantage of using a powerful gun, the using it in situations where it is not looked for, will contribute f 5793s on improvements in artillery. 285 greatly to. the succefs of afsailants. And, it is a pleasing reflection, that the more the art of killing men in battle is improved, the, fewer men are kil- \Ied ; as appears by comparing the list. of the killed and wounded in modern, with that in ancient battles, when the numbers of the combatants were equal. “‘ This remarkable event’ has arisen from the use of gun powder in war, and from the improve- ments of mufkets and field pieces, which have made the following changes in the mode of fighting. . ‘* Before the invention of fire arms, the comba- tants in battle had foot to foot, and fhield to fhield, so that he that fled, was almost certain cf death, or of wounds ; but in modern battles, the combatants are so seldom near each other, that in general flight produces safety. Tn the ancient engagements, personal enmity was almost unavoidable, because every one saw his adversary ; which, joined to the practice of killing _or selling the prisoners, produced an obstinacy in the ancient. battles very different from that in the modern, in which the distance and the smoke, hin- der the combatants from knowing each other, and in which all the prisoners are treated with the utmost humanity. ‘« The armies of ancient times were arranged in deep columns with narrow fronts. But, since the improvements on mufkets and field pieces, ar- mies have been arranged in long thin lines; so that the battle is never. general at the same time, nor consequently the flight, This makes it dangerous to pursue; because there are always parts of the ~ -. 286 on improvements in artillery. Oct: 23, army which are in good order, and which would come upon the flanks or the rear of the victor. “« Tt was inthe flight, that the greatest part of the men were killed in former times; and the slaugh- ter was chiefly effected by the expedition of the cavalry. But now, their pursuit is quickly checked ;' because a cannon ball is thrown to a much greater distance than an ancient. mifsile wea- pon; and with force enough to kill many men at once, though defended by the strongest thields, and by coats of mail made of iron. “¢ The cavalry, in their pursuit, must go through 2 country that is open, or that has narrow pafses, or that is full of trees. In the first case, the can- non balls reach to a great distance, and, bounding from place to place, produce haveck, and confusi- | on. In the second case, light-field-pieces are plac- ed in the narrow pafses, where every ball is ef- fective ina powerful manner, by acting upon a deep column. In the third case, iron balls knock splinters from the trees, by which the men and horses are destroyed, or thrown into disorder. And, in every case, when the cavalry come near, they are large marks for constant fhowers 6f case- fhot, from guns which can be defended for a long time, and by a few men, in such situations ; while, in the mean time, the vanquifhed troops will have got far to the rear, and have had time to recover their order, and their courage. ‘© Thus the inventions which were thought to be the most destructive in war, have saved many lives, and produced much humanity. And, thus, every improvement in field pieces, will not only £793? on the pholas., 287 give victory to ‘the army which first uses ‘it ; but, after the improvement is generally known, it. will diminith the carnage in battles,’’ _ The above words, it is well known, were printed in an efsay which was presented to the Duke of Rich- mond in the year 1788; and many copies of it were presented, to the frieads of the author Phat, ‘* every improvement in field pieces will give vic- ‘‘ tory to the army which first uses it,’’ has been lately proved, by the armics’of France, to the con- viction of Europe. That ‘* after the improvement is “* generally, known, it may diminifh the carnage in “¢ battles,”, must be the prayer of every lover of the human kind, in every age, and in every country. Praying sincerely that it may be so, I am_ re- -spectfully, Sir, Your most obedient Servant A RIDER. Sir, To the Editor of the Bee. Your correspondent Th. R. from Sutherland states a fact well known in the natural history oftestaceous a- ~ nimals, but from the similarity of fhapeI suppose he has mistaken the species of fhell fifh found inthe stone, which I am apt to think was notamuscle as des- cribed by him, but a pholas, the history of which at ‘considerable length he will find in La Conchyliologie de Mr D‘Argenville, and figured in plate 26 fig. K. of part first, and plate 7 fig. S. of part second. It is also described in Pennant’s zoology vol. 4. p. 77, and called by him pholas parvus, and a figure given ‘plate xt. fig. 13. Shells of this species are frequent- ly met with in Scotland, and are found in great “quantities at Toulon in Provence, and at Ancona in' 988 on the pholas. * Octe 232 Italy, where tkey are found in the hardest stones, but most.commenly in marble, which is broken with large hammers to come at the fith, which is reck~ oned a great delicacy. It would not suit your miscel. lany to enter more at large into the! history of this eurious fith; hall therefore, only farther observe that T have often found stones that had been preforated by pholades, deprived oftheir first inhabitant, whose place was supplied by other fhell fith, such as ‘oys- ters, ‘muscles, fc. probably! forced from their na- tive beds by storms, when very yoting, and by a hea vy swell of the ‘sea driven’ into the deserted habita- tion of the pholasy where they continue to encreasé in size till they completely fill the original excava- tion.’ The pholas is also described by Rondelet lib. ‘'t. p. 4g. Lister hist. anim. Anglia, p. 172. Ale drovandus de testaceis lib. 3. » Muctarium Batfourt- — ani t$c. (8c. By the by mentioning this last author brings to my remembrance what Mr D’Argenyille says when giving a history of the mest famous. ca- binets of mat. hist. in Europe, which you {hall have in his own words. , ** Le fameux cabinet. d’André Balfourianus mes decin, se voit dans la bibliotheque publique de la ville d’Edinbourg capitale d’Ecofse ; c’est une com- posé de tout ce qu’on peut voir de plus rare en chaque genre, den juger par le livre imprimé que nous cn avons, sur tout depuis qu’on y a joint le cabinet de Robert Sibbaldus medecin, qui en a fait present 4 Ja ville, A condition de le rendre publique,” Can you tell, Mr Editor, where this famous collec- tion is nowkept; I should like to have a peep at it. Z. —..—3—WVWU0BDOEDO0OWOK—wO0O0O0OnwoqOoOOOOO . POETRY. Sir, ; To the Editor of the Bee. By inserting the following ode in the Bee, you will oblige your most obedient servant, A. A. OpE TO AURORA, Farr smiling goddefs of the dawn, That o’er the dew-bespangled lawn Serenely beam’st with rosy eye, All beauteous in the dappled fky ; Soon as thou cheer’st the mountain’s height, .Purpling afar the orient wave, Abath’d the sable power of night Shoots with increasing speed to dark Cimmerian cave; Lo, startied by thy hostile beam, Night's terrors fly the heavenly gleam ; And fire eyed forms and spectres pale Flock fearful to the cavern’d dale. So when fair science beams along, The gloom of ignorance pro‘ound, Aghast withdraws her blackening throng ; And beauty, order, truth, triumphant smile around, Dimm’d by thy roseate lustre, fly The nightly squadrons of the fky ; Save when the radiant queen of love * Displays her emulous gem above : Anon fhe fhines with peerlefs light, The brilliant harbinger of day, Till streaming glorious on the sight, i Bursts from the golden wave Hyperion’s flaming ray. Wak'd by thy smile creative, glows The landscape vivid as the rose : The fieids their goodliest tints unveil, And fragrance floats upon the gale. To thee the, woodland pours its strains: Mid solitude’s enchanting sway The lark, the songster of the plains, Mounts from her lowly nest, and trills her matin lay. Pleas’d the industrious peasaut eyes Thy oluth, and to his labour hies; Thou, murdeious slumber dost controul, A.dwak’st the vigour of the soul. * Venus, sometimes the morning, and sometimes the evening star. About the time of her greatest elongation from the sun, fhe is so bright as to centinue visible, when to the west of him, tillhe rise; and to a tharp eye even when he’is far above the horizon, VOL. xvii. 00 t 290 poetry. Oct. 24, » On sicep-chain’d health thou steal’st amain: But slowly fhines thy lingering ray To him, that on the bed of pain At even laments the night, at morn bewails the day, And slow’s thy welcome to the wight That haplefs toils the tedious night ‘Tempestuous through the wintry wild, Where horror roams, Gorgonian child : . And to the storm tofs’d wretch, forlorn Amidst the darksome ocean’s roar, Who, by the boisterous waters born, Dreads the unpitying strand, or rude basaltic fhore; Long, long in Thetis’ caverns lost, Thou quitt’st Lapponia’s guilelets * coast, ~ And Nova Zembla’s icy plains, Or where the Oby + sleeps in chains: Long mourns in Greenland’s snow-clad cave The Troglodyte thine absence drear; Till o’er th’ Ulumin’d arctic wave Thy saffron robe he spies, and hails the vernal year. When Chaos held his throne of old Where frightful desolation scowl’d, And o’er the monstrous waste profound Night brooded horrible around ; ‘Thy cheering light, full sweet, I ween, Upspringing broke the midnight gloom ; ‘ And o’er creation’s varied scene Dispers’d its orient hues, and bade all nature lenis And*sweet thy face, when first it glow’d . On Eden's heavenly prime, and sow’d Bias With glittering pearis the garnith’d ground, And balmy odours breath’d around, Or sweeter still, with pure delight When soft eyed cherubs hail’d thy ray ; And, spoiling death, the lord of might Victorious burst the tomb, and sought the realms of day. Well may the muse, with rapturous voice, In thy transporting charms rejoice: Oft from Parnafsus’ flowery swell, Enchanted as by magic spell, She views thy kindling form divine Disporting in the eastern fky ; And borrows oft, to grace her line, The roses of thy cheek, and radiance of thine eye. Peterhead, May,'1'793: AA t. * Concerning the blest innocence of the Laplanders, see Linngus’s preface tovhis Flora Lapponica, / A river of Siberia. $ The farther cerrespondence of this writer will prove very at- ceptable. - *» —— 3793. memorial of the E. of Galloway on salt duties. 29% MEMORIAL of the Earl of Galloway and others, to the Right Honourable the Lords Commifsioners of His Majesty's Treasury, dated London April 15. 1783. | Saewetu, That attempts have been lately made in Scot- land, to salt beef and pork to a considerable extent, both for use of fhips in their voyages, and for exportation to foreign markets: And if*reasonable encouragement is held out to such as may think proper to carry on this branch of trade in Great Britain, it might in time prove very beneficial both to the landed and commercial inte- Tests thereof ;. because the farmers and graziers would then have stronger inducements to raise and fatten cattle and hogs, when they could at all times find a good and ready market for them; and the merchant would not al- ways be under the necefsity of either importing these ar- ticles from Ireland, or sending his fhips to that kingdom, not only for a supply to his correspondents abread, but also for the very provisions requisite for the use of his fhip during her voyage. Neverthelefs, as the laws stand _at present relative to the duties upon salt,and to the draw- backs upon the exportation of salted provisions, it appears absoluteiy impracticable, that any attempts made in Great Britain to cure beef and pork for exportation, or for the use of thips during their voyage, can be attended with succefs to those who may engage in such a businefs. And, if such is the fact, which will appear by the following ob- servations, it is equally impofsible, that the farmer or gra- zier can have suflicient encouragement to raise and fatten cattle and hogs, because he would not find a ready mar- ket for them, fhould he increase his present quantity to any considerable extent. ‘ 292 memorial of the E. of Galloway on saltduties. Oct. 23. That, either owing to inattention, or some other cause, Scotland, as the laws stand at present, is not even upon a footing with England in the article of curing beef and pork for exportation, in two very efsential points, vs, 1. That in England, the drawback of five fhillings per. barrel is teceived upon the exportation of a barrel contai- ning 32 gallons of well cured beef or pork, whether it is cured with Englith or foreign salt separately, or with a mixture of each 3 whereas in Scotland, no such drawback, or any drawback whatever indeed, is allowed upon such a barrel, unle/s cured with foreign salt alone; nay, what is more remarkable, no beef ur pork cured with a mixture of salt, can, as the law at present stands, be exported from Scotland, even without the bounty or drawback, and even although the Scots salt used therein has paid the equalizing duty with England. It is true, the commifsioners-of the customs, upon application, generally permit such to be exported ; but they never, andit is pre- sumed cannot allow the drawback of five fhillings per bar- rel on the exportation of provisions so cured with a mix- ture of salts. Now, this hardthip will appear particularly distrefsing to Scotland, when it is considered, that in or- der to cure beef and pork properly to stand a warm cli- mate, it is efsentially necefsary that it fhould be first rub- bed wih small or home-made salt, as is the universal practice in Ireland, and lie in the pickle thereof from ten to twenty days, in order to draw off the blood and other superfluous juices, which is called pining; for, of great or foreign salt was used in this part. of the procefs, the juices of the provisions would be so much exhausted by the strength thereof, and they would thereby become so dry and hard, that they would be unfit almost for use, at least for sale in a well supplied market. - After being so rubbed and pined with small salt, the provisions are taken out of | : 1793. memorial of the E. of Galloway on salt duties. 293 the stecps, and then packed away with great salt in cafks “proper for exportation ; and those conversant in the bu- ‘sinefs, know how necefsary great or foreign salt is for this purpose. 2. In England, a proportional drawback — is allowed of two fhillings and sixpence upon the exporta- tion of half-barrels; whereas in Scotland no drawback is allowed upon any casks under the size of thirty-two gallons, even although tue beef or pork therein is cured with foreign sait alone,-.a hardfhip obvious and well known to those conversant in the businefs, many half “barrels being wanted for the convenience of stowage, and the supply of the West India islands. , That the memor alists do not mean to insinuate, that even if Scotland was put upon a footing with England in these two particulars, any attempts made there to cure provisions for exportation, or for the use of fhips during their voyages, will be attended with succefs, while the salt duties, and bounties or drawbacks on salted beef and pork, remain as they at present are; neither can such at- tempts be attended with succefs in England, as will be evident from the following considerations : First, Atthe time of the Union, the duty in Eng- land upon home made salt was only 3s. 4d. per buthel of 56 lib. and wpon foreign great salt only 6s. 11d. per buthel of 84 lib. and, at that period, the drawback paid in England, upon the exportation of beef or pork pro- \perly cured, was 5s. per barrel of thirty-two gallons wine measure; which article was, by the 8th article of the Treaty of Union, extended to Scotland, upon paying at the custom-house of exportation, the’ equalizing duty with Engiand on Scots salt used in curing such provisions. Now, as it takes about a buthel of home made salt, and nearly half a bufhel of foreign great salt, to cure a barrel 294, memorial of the E. of Galloway on salt duties. Oct. 23;- of beef or pork properly for exportation, and for the pickle to fill it up when fhipped, the duties thereon, ac- cording the above mentioned rate, wou!d be about 6 s. od. By this drawback, therefore, of 5s. per barrel, there was about 1 s. gd. paid’to the revenue on each barrel export- ed,®provided the proportions of home-made and foreign salt were used as above. If there was a greater propor- tion of home-made salt used than above mentioned, the duty to the revenue would be lefs, and vice versa. At . present, however, the duty on home-made salt is §s. yer bufhel of 56 lib. and upon foreign great salt 10s. qd. per — bufhel of 84 lib; the amount of which duty, in the above proportions. used curing a barrel of beef or pork, is tos. 6d.; while, at the same time, the’ drawback upon exportation is no more still than 5s. Here, then, is an e- vident disadvantaye » 3s. gd. per barrel, which a per- son wh cures bee or pork in Britain now labours under, more than. he did before the late duties in 1780 and 1782 were laid upon _ It. 2. The very heavy duties necefsary to be paid down up- on foreign salt, before it can be removed from tlhe King’s cellars, is another very great disadvantage and discourage- ment to any person who cures beef for exportation in Great Britain. This duty, as stated above, is now about tos. 4d. per buthel of 84 lib.; so that’ the proportion thereof, being half-a- bufhel as above mentioned, used up- on each barrel of salted beef or pork, is 5s. 2d. besides the duty upon a buthel of home-made salt also used there- in, to be paid before it can be removed from the salt- pans; making in all* fully one-fourth part of the whole value of each barrel of beef or pork when ready for mark- | et. This requires a great stock to be employed in such a businefs, even if the whole duties were to be drawn back at exportation, which deters a Britith merchant from 1793. memorial of the E. ef Galloway on salt duties: 298 engaging in it; especially when he considers, that'in Ire-’ land no duty whatever is paid upon Irifh made salt, only 33d. per bufhel on Britith, and 41d. per bufhel on foreign great salt; and on exportation of the provisions from . thence, the merchant pays a farther duty of one fhilling per barrel for beef, and 1s. 6d. for pork, ail Irifh money. The advantage, therefore, that the Irith has over the Bri- tifh merchant, is, in this respect, so evident, that it is un- necefsary to say any thing farther upon it. 3. Peter was about seven feet high. | 1793- oration of Lomonofsoff. 307 represent his image lively to our memories, this is testified by whole cities and kingdoms, who, actuated by his fame, flocked to meet him, and to wonder at a face worthy of a great monarch, and characteristic of his great actions. Shall ] take my beginning ' from the firmnefs of his spirit? But his unremitting watchfullnefs, without which it was impofsible to have performed actions so great and so numerous, affords us a proof of this. I proceed then to an .e- numeration of them, well knowing it is easier to en- gage in the commencement than to attain the end; and, that this great man cannot be better praised than by him who {hall distinctly and truly delineate his labours: if to delineate them be pofsible ! As much then as my ability and the fhortnefs of time allowed will permit, I fhall mention his more important labours, then represent the difficulties to be overcome in perfecting them; and in the end mark the virtues that in such undertakings sustained him. This wise monarch foresaw that to execute his great plans, it was necefsary to extend every kind of knowledge in his empire ; and to increase the number of people fkilled in the sciences, as well as to multi- ply artizans and tradesmen. His fatherly attention in this respect I formerly hinted at ; which, were ] to describe circumstantially, this subject alone would exceed the bounds of my discourse. Like the swift winged eagle, he flew round the European nations, and excited, partly by his commands, partly by his own powerful example, numbers of his subjects* to relinguifh for a while their native country, and t 408 oration of Lomonofsoff. Oct. 265 convince themselves by. experieace how great advane- tages arise to the individual and community irom a curious scrutiny of foreign countries. The wide gat.s of Rufsia were then thrown open: "twas then that the sons of Rufsia, like the flux and reflux in the extensive ocean, departing to seek knowledge in the various sciences and arts, and returning loaded with experience, books, and foreign engiwes, flowed, through her ports in unremitting motion. It was then that due respect, im the sacred person of Peter, _ clothed in purple and crowned with laurels, was paid to mathematical and physical knowledge, for- merly reckoned witchcraft and necromancy*, What advantage of every kind was derived to us from the arts encircled with such rays of Majesty, 1s.maniics- ted by the plenteous profusion of varied convenience, of which, before the time of the great enligntener of Rufsia, our ancestors were not only deprived, but of which they had even no conception. How many useful articles, which were formerly brought into Rifsia with much difficulty, and at a great expence, are now made at home ; and serve not only to obviate our own wants, but supply also the necefsities of distant nations! Ihe neighbouring nations vaunted formerly that Rufsia, an extensive and powerful kingdom, could neither make war, nor carry on trade without their afsistanee: that in itself it had * Lomonofsoff himself among his other acquiremets was a greas proficient in mathematical knowledge ;_ on which subject he has left Several treatises that are much esteemed. 17935 oration of Lomonofsoff. 309 not even iron* to repell an enemy ; far lefs other me. tals for coining money. This reflection vanifhed at the appearance of Peter. The bowels of the moun. . tains are laid open by his powerful and industrious hand: metals teem from them, and distribute theme selves, not only to the inhabitants, but are sent to strangers as restitutions of the loans received from them. The hardy troops of Rufsia turn against their enemies, weapons dug by Rufsian hands from Rufsian mountains. | Of the establifhment of a regular force, so necef- sary for the protection of the state, for the safety of the individual, and for the uninterrupted prosecu-. tion of grand designs at home ; of this establifhment, I say, how great care had our great monarch, what anxious struggling, what attentive search after all means conducive to this end! When at all this we cannot sufficiently wonder, how is it pofsible to ex- prefs it in words! The progenitor of our wise hero, that great prince Alexis Michaelowitzt, of blefsed me- mory, amid many other famous actions, laid the foun- dation of a regular army = and the advantages obtained by its means in his fortunate campaigns in Poland; and provinces recovered to the empire, sufficiently testity * This is a very curious historical fact which hitherto had escaped Moy notice. + Alexius was the son of Michel Federowitz, under whose reign the Rufsians were first able to make head against the Poles, and thus to afsume somewhat the appearance of an independent empire. Adex- ius was a good prince, made many good laws, and added to the pro- sperity of Rufsia. Theodore, who succeeded him, was the immediate predecefsor of Peter. 310° oration of Lomonofroff. Oct. 30. how far he succeeded. But all his'endeavours were extinguifhed with his life. Old irregularities re- turned ; and the strength of the Rufsian army con- _ sisted more in its numbers than in its fkill. How much it afterwards decayed is sufficiently fhown by uselefs campaigns against the Turks and Tartars ; but chiefly by the unbridled and destructive muti- nies of the Strelets, originating in want of discipline. In such circumstances who could have conceived that a boy of twelve years old, debarred from go- vernment, and only protected from malice by the prudent care ofa loving mother ; amid uninterrupted terrors, amid pikes, amid swords drawn on his rela- tions, on his friends, and on himself; fhould have begun to establifh a regular force, the power of which his enemies soon after felt ; felt and trembléd; and at which all nations now wonder*; who could have * Theodore, though a weak and effeminate prince, had the judge, ment to perceive that a vigorous mind was alone fitted to govern the kingdom of Rufsia in its then distracted state. _He perceived symp- toms of these active talents in the boy Peter, who was only his half brother, and therefore on his death bed recommended to his nobles to ‘ choose him for their sovereign, in preference to Iwan his own full . brother. But his sister Sophia willing to exercise sovereign sway un~ der the name of the simple Iwan, fuund means to place him upon the throne, and put to death all who were related to Peter, whose power fhe dreaded. ‘The Strelitzes, a set of troops under no proper disci- pline, were the tools fhe employed on this occasion, whose power and insolence became so great as to throw the empire into the most dread- ful distrefses. To check these excefses, which exceeded her power, Sophia found it necefsary to admit Peter an equal fharer tothe throne with Iwan; but to strengthen her own power fhe determined to marry prince Gallitzin. Peter found means to counteract this plan, ba- nifhed Gallitzin to Siberia, and confined Sophia herself to a monastery. 2793+ oration of Lomonofsoff- grt thought that from a boyifh, as it seemed, amusement, such serious, such important consequences fhould have arisen? Many seeing a few young men with their young master, exercising themselves with dis minutive arms, concluded that this was only an in-= significant amusement ; and therefore these new le- vies were named playfellows. Others pofsefsed of more penetration, and remarking in his youthful countenance, 2 blooming heroic boldnefs, his eyes filled with acute intelligence, and in his acti« ons, majestic activity, reflected how brave a hero, how great a monarch, Rufsia in him had to expect. But to levy many and numerous legions, foot and horse; to provide them with clothing, with pay, with arms, and with warlike necefsaries ; to teach them the use of arms, to establith field and besieging artillery, in which a great knowledge of geometry, mechanics, and chemistry is required ; but above all, to furnifh all the departments with experienced He continued to reign jointly with Iwan, from 1689 to 1696, when, by the death of Iwan, Peter became sole monarch of Rufsia. Itis te the struggles during this period the orator here alludes. Even while his power was thus circumscribed, though his best friends were cut off, and his education was studiously neglected by the arts of Sophia ; even in these circumstances, at that very tender age, he laid the plan of overturning the power of the Strelitzes, who like the Pretorian bands at Rome, or the Janifsaries in Turky, did nearly whatever they pleased in Rufsia. With that view, he selected a num- ber of the most promising youth nearly of his own age, and formed a mock army of these to go through the exercise with them, like boys in sport, which was taught to them by foreigners who were acquain - ted with the regular military descipline in other parts of Europe. Thus was formed the rudiments of that army which soon after crufh « ef the Strelitzes, and became so formidable te others. 912 oration of Lomonofsoff. Det. 36 commanders ; to execute all this, seemed in reality ‘an impofsibility,- because the want and deprivation of power in the sovereign had extinguilhed the last hope and probability: what then was the conse« ‘quence? Beyond the public expectation, in opposi~ tion to the difbelief of those who ‘had lost hope, and in spite of the intrigues and murmurs of malice it- self, the new legions of Peter unexpectedly marched _ and excited in the faithful sons of Rufsia joyful hope ; in the discontented, terror, and in both asto- nifhment. Impofsibilities become pofsible by extra- ordinary afsiduity, and above all by unheard of ex. ample. The senate of Rome, when beholding Tra- jan standing before the consul for the acceptance of this dignity, exclaimed, ‘“‘ By this you are greater, by this you are more majestic.”” What exclamations, what clapping of hands are due to Peter the Great for his unaffected condescention. Our fathers saw; they saw their crowned sovereign, not amongst the number of candadites for the consulate of Rome ; but amidst his fellow soldiers: not demanding honours of the Romans; but conducting the exercises of his own subjects. You beautiful plains you happy fields, which beheld-so wonderful a spectacle ! O how you enjoyed the friendly enmity of legions trained by a sovereign, conducting and subordinate ; com- manding and obedient! O how you wondered at sieges, defences, and surrenders of embattlements, not undertaken for present profit, but for future glory; not for the subjection of the rebellious, but for the encouragement of friends. We, reflecting on past years, represent to ourselves the love and eee ' 3793 oration of Lomono/soff- 313 ardent zeal with which the incipient army -was at- tached to their sovereign, when they beheld him in their own ranks, at the same table, partaking of the common fare 5 when they saw his face covered with the Same sweat and dust; when they saw that he differed in nothing, except that in exercise he was the most afsi- duous, the most expert. By such extraordinary exam- ple, keeping pace with his subjects in promotion, this wise sovereign demonstrated, that monarchs can in ho way so much advance their own majesty, the glory, and height of their own dignity, as by similar condescension.* The Rufsian.army grew strong by this encouragement, and in a twelve years war wich the crown of Sweden, as well as afterwards in many other expeditions, filled the ends of the universe w th the victorious thunder of its arms. .True the first engagement at Narva was unsuccefsful ; but the su- periority of the enemy, and retreat of the Rufsiaas, have, from malice and pride, to increase their glo- ry, and magnify our defeat, been much exaggerat~ ed beyond the truth. The Rufsian troops were only of two years standing ; the enemy disciplined and in- * In every transaction of Peter’s life, when nearly examined, we dis« gover the amazing stretch of that man’s mind. Before his time it was reckoned an indelible disgrace for any man in Rufsia to serve in the army under a man whose father had occupied a lower military rank than the father of the person whom he was tocommand. This was an insuperable bar to military discipline and a regular army. Peter saw at once that the only effectual way. to de away all this, was to go into the army himself in the lowest station, and to obey with due submifsion every officer who was placed above him; as, what he did, no other person could think was difhonourable. Thus did he at once, by a no- ‘ble self command, abolish a custom that no law however severe could have abrogated without the most violent struggles. VOL. xVil. RR t \ 4 314 ovation of Lomonofsoff. Oct. 30. nured to war. Although difsension took place among our commanders, and a cunning spy communicated to the enemy all the circi.mstances of our camp ; and although Charles xii. by an unexpected attack, pre- vented our army from being put in order of battle ; however on retreating, the buldnefs of the enemy was so far checked as to disable them to continue the action and pursue the victory. The Rufsian guards and no smail part of the other troops remain- ed in good order ; and it was only for want of their leaders, whom Charles having called to treat of peace, had detained prisoners, that they were with- held from falling on the enemy. The guards there- fore and the rest of the army withtheir arms and baggage, colours flying and drums beating, return- ed into Rufsia. That this defeat proceeded more from these unfortunate circumstances, than from wart of fkill in the troops of Rufsia ; and that the army of Peter even in its infancy was able ‘to beat the veteran troops of his enemies, wes fully proved the following summer, by many signal victories*, To be continued, } The Orator goes here farther than Peter himself is known to have done, ‘or it is well known that great man used to console himself after’ a defeat by observing that there was no reason to be discouraged, for that by every defeat they acquired additional military fkill, so -that by perseverance their enemies in time would teach the Rufsians to beat themselves; and this in fact he effected, ° - 1493. on delays in the court of Sefsion. 31g ON THE DELAYS INCIDENT TO THE COURT OF SESSION. Continued from p. 283. To the Lord President of the Court of Sefsion. LETTER VI. 4 My Lorp, Many people imagine it is in the power of the judge, if he chuses, to give a speedy decision ; and many more think the practitioners could procure an immediate judgement, if it were not their interest to protract the suit, and keep it long depending in court. This, however, is like the notion of the negroes, that monkeys could speak if they inclined, and that they only observe silence in order to avoid being obliged to work. To finifh a law-suit soon, would contribute much to the ease and comfort of the judge; and, contrary to the received opinion, it would also tend. to the profit of the practitioners, as giving life and spirit to businefs, and much encouraging the number of suits: Bit upor, the present footing of things, all the efforts of a party, joined with the coucurrence of an atteutive and discernin. judge, cannot prevent delays. Nay, farther, the ripe and proper decision of a cause is in _ its nature a matter that requires a good deal ot time; _and of course a law-suit mus be tedious after ali the _thange that can well be veutured ou, or ought tu be 316 — on delays in the court of Sefsion. — Oct. 38. made, of the present forms of procedure. But much valuable time and money may surely be saved by such alterations, as fhall be previously examined by your Lordfhip, and sanctioned by your knowledge and penetration. In a state of interests and order of ranking, there | may perhaps be objections made against 6, 8, io, 12, or tiore of the interests produced for the creditors ; for the common agent thinks it his duty to notice every defect that he can discover. It is in vain to think that all these objections can be answered thro’ the medium of as many different agents, in the course of a fortnight. But if each objection were separately stated, they could all be answered in that space ; and by the sim- ple operation of printing the state and order, the matter would be accomplifhed at once, at the addi- tional expence of a few pounds ; as by that means each creditor, or his doer, could have full accefs to the state for the whole of the time. And it would only farther be necefsary, that the common agent fhould Keep each reply separate, so as each creditor might take up to the cne relating to his own case, when lie had occasion to represent to the Lord Ordinary, or to reclaim to the court. The very same means would empower such of the other creditors as chose to object against the state and order, to do so within the same space of time. And by this simple regulation of making each objection | a separate question, much time and interférence would be saved. The clerks aiid their afsistants would na-_ turally fall into the practice of not leading up any —— 1793. on delays in the court of Sefsion. 319 more of the procefs to cach agent than the zterest of his own employer. Or, if necefsary, a regulation would be made, that the rest of the procefs thould . remain in the clerk’s hands, to be inspeéted there, du. ring the time of making answers and duplies. After all the objections are adjusted, there is often time lost in preparing the scheme of division. Such is the tedious nature of a procefs of ranking and sale, that the common agent does not always continue e- qually anxious to pufh it on toa conclusion. Weeks, or even months, may sometimes pais before a remit is obtained to an accountant to prepare the scheme; and when it is obtained, it does not limit a time within which the scheme must be made up and pro- duced. A new fee to the clerks of court, of so much per cent. is rather an extraordinary remedy, and not to be often resorted to; yet [ must own that no other effectual regulation presents itself in the present in= stance, for compelling the common agent to apply for and obtain the necefsary remit, and the accountant employed by him to make up and produce the scheme, within such precise time as may be deemed reason- able ; and one space of time (suppose a month or six weeks), may safely be fixed, in all such cases ; for a few days more will serve for framing and calculating a dong scheme, than would serve for a a fhort one. I am, &c. LENTULUs. 318 on the woollen manufacture. Oct. 30 - : « ConsIDERATIONS, ON THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE) MANUFACTURE OF WoOL IN GeEAT BRITAIN. * 4 Written a few years ago. For the Bee. Tae advantages that have, accrued to these kings doms, from the introduction of large machines for spinuing cotton, are. so numerous and so conspicus ous, as to render any encomiums. on such machines vunnecefsary; yet it may be proper to mention one or two circumstances, that have: not, been generally até tended to: they have served to convince the publi¢ of what vast service the use of machines is, in car- rying on great works, and have fully demonstrated the futility of every argument, adduced with a de- sign to fhow that they tend to diminifh the number of hands employed in any manufacture, or lefsen the profits of the industrious labourer: If any one yet retains such an opinion; let him examine the coun- ties of Lancaster, Chefhire, Derby, Nottingham &c. where such machives have been most generally establifhed, and he will find his suspicions totally without foundation ; the number of hands employed in.the cotton works being increased beyond credibi- lity, and the earnings’ of, the industrious, both men and women, raised much higher than they used to be. These are facts which admit not of dispute ; and if the spiuning cotton by cugiues on a large scale, has - 14793: on the woollen manufacture. 287 been productive of such’ general good, how much more benefit will arrise fromthe preparing and spinning wool by a like method! I fhall endeavour to point out some of those advantages, leaving the reader’s mind to furnifh many others, which the space Tallow myself will not permit me to enlarge upon. ¢ 1. Cotton being an article of foreign growth, may be imported by any other commercial nation, as the French, Spaniards, €§c. in any quantity required, whenever they thall haveintroduced such machines as have been already used in England; and that at- tempts tg obtain and ‘introduce’ them into foreign ‘countries have been made, is well known ; but wool, which is peculiarly the growth of this’ country, and ‘considered the staple commodity of it, can hardly be worked to advantage elsewhere, if, by increasing the consumption of'it in our own manufactures, a stop is put to the practice of smuggling it into other coun- ‘tries, by which illicit practice only, foreigners have been enabled to undersel us in distant markets. 2. The land holder would be greatiy benefitted by ‘the introduction of large machines in the manufac. ‘ture of wool ; for as the demand for that article may reasonably be expected to increase as much, at least, ‘as that for cotton has done, the breeding of fheep will ‘Increase, ‘and the value of land rise in the same propor ‘tion. The whole’ nation will indeed be benefitted in ‘a mode distinct from the enlargement of its com- -merce ; for from the quantity of fheep bred, provisi- -ons wil! be lowered, and from the cheapnefs at which ‘all woollen goods may be manufactured, they will 320 on thé woollen manufacture. Oct. 36. be brought at lower rates to market. Thus every individual in this country will find the advantage resulting to the whole kingdom, from such a wise and truly politic measure. The laudable attention which the society institu« ted at London for the encouragement of arts, has constantly paid to the promoting the manufactures of these kingdoms, deserves the highest commenda- tion, and has been attended with the most beneficial effects. Happy would it be, if that society were in such circumstances, as to enable them to offer 2 premium of sufficient value, to stimulate the inges nious meehanics of this country, to perfect a machine equally well adapted to the preparing and spinning wool, as those iv use in the cotton works are to the preparing and spinning that article; but whoever hall be fortunate enough to complete such an en- gine, will richly merit a reward far beyond the ay bilities of the society to grant, After having considered various modes of raising a sufficient sum of money to reward the person who fhall produce sucha machine as will effectually an- swer the intention required, I beg leave to suggest the expedient of an adequate premium being offered for it by parliament, as was formerly done for the discovery of the longitude, or any other manner as to their wisdom fhall seem more proper ; and as there is every reason to believe, that the first hint of machines for spinning a number of threads of — wool, cotton, tc. by one hand, at one time, origi- nated with the socicty for encouragement of arts, see the first volume of their transactions page 33. it 1993° on the woollen manufacture. = - 32 may be presumed if that body, afsisted by the advice of other able mechanics, were to superintend the working such machines as may be produced, till their merits were fully ascertained, and the compa- rative excellence of one over the others, decidedly proved ; it is, I say, to be presumed, under such circumstances, this most desirable end, might, in the compafs of a few years, be obtained, to the uni- wersal benefit of this country. The parliament have already bestowed rewards on ingenious persons for their discoveries ; but no object hitherto brought be- fore them, whether considered with respect to mag- nitude or utility, has been in any degree comparable with this now mentioned ; the reward therefore fhould be proportioned accordingly : and if it succeeds, there is not, adoubt but the staple trade of these kingdoms, will receive from it such benefit, as will eternize the memory of those who proposed it, or in any degree contributed to the bringing it to perfecti- on*, D. G. * The great object pointed at in the above disquisition is now ac- complifhed. A machine for spinning wool is now going in Edinburgh, and performs its work much better, than it ever could be done by hand. ¢ _ Add to this that the socjety instituted of late for the improvement ef Britifh wool, by turniag the attention of the nation to this impor- ‘tant branch of economics, promises to effect the happiest improvements. When this society first hinted that as fine wool might be reared in Scotland as in Spain, some manufacturers in the south of England sneered atthe proposal. The fact is now ascertained experimentally beyond a doubt ; and I have just now in my pofsefsion as fine wool of the fhert Spanifh sort reared inScotland, as perhaps any that ever came out efSpain. ‘the only perceptible difference in the quality of this wool VOL: xvil. $s + 322 reading memorandums. ene 303. READING MEMORANDUMS. In the course of human life, weaknefs will always. happen. / ' 4 From Malborough’s eyes the streams of dotage flow, “ And Swift expires a driveller and a fhow.” There is certainly more virtue in discharging vee ry burdensome and painful duties with the strictést fidelity, tha in merely actiug from the wicca of an ardent affec tion. Fealousy, of all the pafsions baneful to the peace of mortals, 1s the hardest to conquer, and its affects the most difficult to be eradicated. With jealousy no peace can dwell, or joy inhabit. In every part of the globe, it is, to its unfortunate victims, the aie enemy of happinefs. rae ; from the Spanifh is, that it seems to be softer to the touch: whether this be only accidental, a little time wul fhow. Other advantages that will result from the institution of this society will be developed from time to timé in this work. The only thing now wanted to render this improvement of general utility, is to adopt some plan by which work-men may be instructed in the manner of working and taking care of this machinery, so as to enable those who may encline to begin in various parts of the country, to find persons qualified’ to direct them, and in- struct others in the different branches of the busines. A plan of this sort we understand has lately been laid before the.honourable trustees for improving arts, manufactures, and fifheries in Scotland. And, as few objects « can be more deserving the attention of the board than this is, it can scarcely be doubted, but they will consider it with at- tention, and bestow ypon it that encouragement which it fhall be found to deserves i } \ Edit. POETRY. Sir, '_ Io the Editor of the Bee. y The following lines were written by the late worthy Gilbert White, brother to Mr White the eminent bookseller, and author of the na- tural history and antiquities of Selborne, in the county of Southamp- ton. ON THE DARK, STILL, DRY, WARM WEATHER OCCASIONALLY HAR- PENING IN THE WINTER AND SPRING MONTHS, e For the Bee. Th’ imprison’d winds slumber within their caves Fast bound: the fickle vane, emblem of change, Wavers no more ; long settling toa pvint. All nature nodding seems compos'd: thick steams From land, from flood updrawn, dimming the day, * Like a dark ceiling stand :”” slow through the air Gofsamer floats, or stretch’d from blade to blade The wavy network whitens all the field. Puth’d by the weightier atmosphere, upsprings The pond’rous Mercury, from scale to scale Mounting, along the Torrjcellian tube : While high in air, and pois’d upon his wings Unseen, the soft enamour’d wood-lark runs Through all his maze of melody; the brake Loud with the blackbird’s bolder note ‘resounds. —Sooth’d by the genial warmth, the cawing rook Anticipates the spring, selects her mate, Haunts her tall nest-trees, and with sedulous care Repairs her wicker eyrie, tempest-torn. The ploughman inly smiles tosee upturn His mellow glebe, best pledge of future crop : With glee the gardner eyes his smoaking beds : Ev’n pining sicknefs feels a fhort relief. The happy school-boy brings transported forth His long forgotten scourge and giddy gigg : O’er the white paths he whirls the rolling hoop, Or triumphs in the dusty fields of Taw, Not so the thoughtiul sage. Abroad he walks Contemplative; if haply he may find ‘ What cause controuls the tempest’s rage, or whence Amidst the savage season winter smiles.— . For days, for weeks, prevails the placid calm, * ; At length some drops prelude a change: the sun ; With ray refracted bursts the parting gloom ; When all the ehequer’d fky is one bright glare. With angry aspect scowls; down ruth the fhowers And float the delug’d path’s and miry fields, 324 poetry. Oct. 30. ¢ Sir, Zo the Editor of the Bee. ws "Phe following stanzas written’ by Thomson on the blank leaf of a co- py of his seasons were sent by him to the good lord Lyttelton soon after the death of his Lucy. ‘ Go little book, and find our friend, Who nature and the muses loves; Whose cares the public virtues blend With all the softnefs of the groves. A fitter time thou canst not chuse His fostering friendfhip to repay ; 4 Go then, and try, my rural muse, To steal his widow’d hours away. / SiR, To the Editor of the Bee. par The following lines found in a blank leaf of that copy of the Man of Feeling which belonged to Mr Granger, author of the Biographical History of England, it 1s believed were neverin print. If you think them deserving a place in the Bee, they are much at your service, : W. To tae Avutuor or THE Man or FEEtinc. ’ Woartst other writers with pernicious art, Corrupt the morals, and seduce the heart ; Raise lawlefs pafsions, loose desires infuse, And boast their knowledge gathered from the stews. Be thine the tafk, such wifhes to countroul, To touch thé gentler movements of the soul ; ‘To bid the breast with generous ardours glow,’ ‘To teach the tear of sympathy to flow ; We hope, we fear, we swell with virtuous rage As various pafsions animate the page. j What sentiments the soul of Harley move ? - The softest piety the purest love ; Congenial virtues dwell in Walton’s mind, Form’d her mild graces, and her taste refin’d. Their flame was such as heaven itself inspires, As high, as secret as the vestal fires ; But ah! too late revealed ;—with parting breath, He owns its mighty force, and smiles in death, His soul spontaneous seeks her kindred fky, Where charity and love can never die.’ P 7 ‘ as 4993: a singular adventure. 32 A SINGULAR ADVENTURE written By M TO ONE OF HIS FRIENDS. I am going, dear friend, to intrust you with a dreadful secret, which I can tellno body but you. ‘The marriage of Mademoiselle de Vildac with the young Sainville took place yesterday ; asa neighbour I was obliged to be there. You know M. de Vildac; he has an inauspicious physi- ognomy which I always feared. I observed him yester- day in the midst of all these festivals: far from taking a fhare in the happinefs of his son-in-law and daughter, the joy of the rest seemed to be a load to him. Wher it was time to retire, 1 was conducted to an apartment at the foot of the great tower. I had scarcely fallen asleep when I was, awaked by an indistinct noise behind my head. . I listened, and heard some body dragging chains, and who was descending softly some steps. At the same time a door of my chamber opened: the noise of chains, redoubled. He who carried them advanced towards the chimney ; he approached some coals half extinguifhed, and said in a deadly voice, “ Ah! how long it is since I have warmed myself!” I confefs to you my friend I was afirighted. I seized my sword to be able to defend myself: I opened gently my _ curtains. By the light which the coals gave, I perceived an old man chained, and half naked, with a bald head and a white beard. He held his trembling hands to the cin- ders. That sight moved me. Whil® I was considering it, the wood produced a flame: he had his eyes turned towards the door by which he had entered, and was aban- ening himself to the most bitter lamentations. In a ‘moment he kneeled down upon his knees, struck his head against the floor; and I heard him in the midst of 326 a singular adventure. Oct: 36% sobs to utter, “ My God! Omy God!” At that mo- me‘t the curtains of the bed made a noise ; he turned sound with the greatest terror: “ Is there any person, said he, is there any person in that bed?” * Yes, replied I, at wee same time opening the curtains wide, ut who are you!’ His tears hindered him from answer- ing me for a considerable time; at length he became ‘more calm. “ I am, said he, the most miserable of © mortals. Perhaps I ought not to tell you more; but for these many years I have not seen a human being, and ‘the. pleasure of speaking toa fellow creature opens my mouth. Fear nothing: come and sit down beside the fire. Have-pity upon me ; you will soften the rigour of my fate in hearing my misfortunes.” The fright which his first appearance had put me in, gave place to compafsion. I arose and sat down beside him ; this mark of confidence gave him courage. He took hold of my hand and moiste- ned it with his tears. “‘ Generous man, said he, begin first by satisfying my curiosity, tell me how you came to lodge in this apartment, which has hitherto been un- inhabited ; what means thatterrible din and unusual bustle which I heard this morning in. the castle ??? When I told him it was occasioned by the marriage of Vildac’s daugh- ter, he raised his hand towards heaven, “ Vildac a daugh- terand married - - - Just God! O make her happy! but aboye all allow her to be ignorant of her father’s crimes. Know then, benevolent stranger who I am - .- - You speak to the fatherof Vildac - - - of the cruel Vildac.—But ought Ito complain of him? Is there no one but a father to accuse him.” ‘What, cried I with astonifhment, is Vildac your son; and does the monster imprison you here in such misery, load you with chains, and seclude you so long from the world ?? : ’ 1793 a singular adventure. 327! “ Behold, replied he. in my sufferings, the fatal effects } of self interestednefs. Feeling is an utter stranger in the hard and savage heart of my son. Insensible to the ties of kindred, he has lent a deaf ear to the cry. of nature : in order to be the sooner in pofsefsion of my fortune he has loaded me with irons. ““ Qne day he paid a visit to a neighbouring lerd who had lately lost his father ; he found him. surrounded with his vafsals, busied in receiving rents and in granting lea- ses. That sight had a dreadful effect upon the mind of Vildac. ‘The thirst for receiving his patrimony had been devouring him for a long time past. I remarked at his return that he had a graver and more reserved counte- mance than usual., Fifteen days after, three men in mafks carried me off during the night. After having strip- “ped me of every thing, they iook me into this tower, [I am ignorant of what means Vildac took to publith the report of my death; but I guefsed by the ringing of bells and other arecil ceremonies, that he was celebrating my funeral. ‘he idea of this ceremony plunged me into a most profound melancholy. 1 m vain afked, as a fa- vour, to be permitted to speak with Vildac: those who brought me food, looked upon me, no doubt, as a crimi- nal condemned to perifh inthis tower. I have now been here almost twenty years. I perceived, this morning, that in bringing me my morsel, they had thut my door carelesly. 1 have waited till night to profit by their ne- “giligence ; 1 do not with to make my escape, but.a few paces of more liberty is always some consideration for a prisoner.” . ; ‘No, cried I, you fhall quit this unworthy mansion: Heaven has sent me to be your deliverer :—let us depart immediately : allis in silence, I hall be your defender, your support,.and your guide.’ “ Ah, said he to me, aiter ‘ 928 a singular adventure: Oct: 305 | a moment’s reflection, this kind of solitude has much al- tered my principles and my ideas. I have long ago re- — signed myself to my fate; why fhould I then quit this. precstul abode, to expose myself again to the vicifsitudes of ‘lve world ?—My lot is cast : I thal] die here.” ‘ Are you dreaming, teplied Je come, we have-not a | moment to lose; the night is advancing.’ “Your zeal moves me: but I have only a few days ty live ; and liberty gives me but little temptation. Why | fhould I go to enjoy it only for a few days, and difhonour | my son all the rest of his life, which may otherwise be long and prosperous?” ‘ He has difhonoured himself.’ “ Ah! what has his young daughterdone? that young in- nocent is now in the arms of her spouse. I fhould cover- both with disgrace, and render the remainder: of their lives miserable ; Ah, if fate but permitted me to see her, to fold her in my arms, and to bathe her with my tears !— But I am talking to no purpose. I never fhall see her ! Adieu :~-the day beginsto break, we fhall be heard, there-_ fore I will return to my prison.” - - -\ ‘ No, said I, taking hold of his arm} I will never suffer you to depart; long confinement has weakened. your spirits - - - it — is my duty to give you courage, and lend you afsistance, We will endeavour to conceal who you are: in the interim my house, name, and fortune are at your service ; but first let us secure liberty. The world will be igno_ rant who you are; and the crime of Vildac may be™ concealed 5 . therefore what have you to fear ?? “ No- thing, I am affected with gratitude :—-I admire your — benevolent disposition ; 3 yet all your entreaties are in vain,—I cannot follow your advice.” ‘ Well, if you — rather choose that I fhould leave you here, and go to the governor of the province, I-will lay before him your ~ 1793% @ curious adventure. 329 whole story, come with an armed force and retrieve you from the hands of your barbarous and unnatural son.’ _“ Take care that you do not reveal my secret, allow a wretch to die here who is unworthy ‘of seeing the day light ;—I once committed a crime which just heaven has ordained that I fhould expiate; the most horrid, most inhuman deed. - - + Turn your eyes towards that door, and behold upon the wainscoat and.upon the wall, _ faint traces of blood. . That blood was once my father’s ; you see before you his afsafsin. Like Vildac my ungo- vernable ambition overcame me. - - - Ah, my ima- gination still paints him before my eyes -, - there he -stretched out his bloody arms towards me; he wifhed to stop my polluted hands ; he falls, oh frightful image, oh despair.” At the same time the old man fell down upon the _ ground, tore his hair, and was in dreadful convulsions ;, I saw he dared not to look me in the face; I remained motionlefs for a while. After some moments of silence we thought we heard a noise. The day began to break 5 he arose. ‘‘ You are penetrated with horror, said he, adieu, I thall go up to the tower, from whence I thall never more return,” I remained for a while mute and motion- lefs : every thing I had seen and heard in this castle im- prefsed my mind with horror - - -_ therefore the ' sooner I left it the better. I am preparing to go and stay in another of my estates, for I can neither see Vil- dac nor live near him. O, my friend, how is it pofsible that the human race can produce such. unnatural mons- é ters. This adventure happened in Provence towards the be- ginning of this century ; before it was printed it was found necefsary to disguise the names. . VOL. XVII. no t botscae ‘memorandum by Dr Walker. is Oct. 30. As many young gentlemen are just now about to sail for India, the following directions are inserted at this time. ( A MEMORANDUM given by Dr Walker, profefsor of natural history, Edinburgh, to a young gentleman going to India, with some additions. ’-r: To be provided with a good Farenheit’s thermome- ter, inclosed in a glafs tube, that can be laid in water, for taking the heat of the sea in different latitudes, and espe- cially for taking the heat of springs in India wherever you can meet with them. E 2. To be careful to pick up at sea, all sea-weeds and _ marine animals that come within reach of the thip, and to dry and preserve them in paper or otherwise. 3. To be attentive to all birds that-are to be seen fem the fhip; to mak the Englifh or other names by which they_are known among the sailors, and the latitudes where they' first appear and disappear. - 4. Tokeep a regular journal from day to day, including the above,. and all other observations in natural history that may occur,—particularly any remarkable appearances in the weather, respecting the winds, rains, thunder and lightning, calms, tornadoes, whirlwinds, or waterspouts.’ 5. To notice the alterations in the colour of the sea, and if pofsible the causes from whence they, proceed ;. espe- cially the colour proceeding from minute animals, with a description of these animals. 6. On approaching the Cape of Good Hope, the Cape pigeons, or pintado birds, are numerous: it would be worth while, if opportunity offers, to preserve one or two of them by stuffing their fkins, and to mark at what di- 1793. memorandum by Dr Walker, 331 stance from the Cape they are first see, and when they first disappear. '. 7. The head, jaws, or teeth, of the different species of fharks that may be caught upon the voyage to be perser- ved: (8. Also the different: flying fithes. g- It is much to be withed, that one of the small fithes which always accompany the blue fhark, called the pilot- §th, might be caught and preserved. 10. Wherever the cable or sounding line is used, it fhould be carefully examined when hove into the fhip, as there are frequently found curious animals adhering to both. 11. Between the Cape and Madagascar, and in other parts of the India voyage, various sea-animals can be ea- sily taken on board, such as what the sailors call Portu- guese men of war, and others, to be preserved, if pofsible, in paper or in spirits. 12. If the thip touches either at Madagascar or the island of Johanna, there are many curious fofsils, plants, and animals which may be preserved. 13. At Bombay many interesting articles may be ob- ‘tained, which are there articles of commerce from Surat and the Gulph of Persia :—Drugs, the different gums and resins, the largest pearl oysters, or mother of pearl, and tortoise fhells : the sandalum album, or white sandal wood, and ebony : the fine red Persian ochre, called at Bombay Indian red; the fins of the zebra, Persian lamb-dkins, jackall, leopard, panthers, and other Asiatic: quadrupeds ; also the horns, and if pofsible the heads, of the different antelopes and gazelles. 14. At Bombay, Madras, and Calcutta, to collect spe- cimens of every fofsil even of the most common, that come within reach. To visit often the thops of the lapi- 4332 memorandum by D, Walker. Ogi, 30. daries, where all the finest lethidia, chalcedony, cornelian, onyx, sardonyx, avate, mocho, dc. are cut in great quan- tities, and sold very cheap. 15. To inquire at Madras concerning the new cochi- neal discovered by Dr Anderson, and to preserve and send home, the species of grafs on which it feeds. 16. At Calcutta to preserve good specimens with the flower, of all the important plants ot the country, and as much of their history as pofsible. § 1>. To be attentive especially to all the productions of China which may be brought there, whether fofsil, vege- table, or animal. 18. To collect at Calcutta, fhells, corals, corallines, spinges, and other fine marine productions which are brought there from all parts of India. 19. To collect all the fine insects, wherever they oc- ‘cur. Fine collections are to be purchased at an easy rate. I fhould particularly reeommend preserving them in paper books, in preference to preserving them loose, or upon pins. The frefh insect may be placed in folds of paper, and prefsed for a day or two with a sufficient weight, when they will be dry and sufficiently prepared ; even those which have been preserved on pins, when put for two minutes in spirits, may then be prefsed and dryed in the same manner. 20. To inquire particularly at Calcutta concerning the great quadruped, called by the Englith, a bufalo, but by the natives the arnee*. It does not come lower upon the Ganges, than’ about the plain of Plafsey. It is said to be . about fourteen feet high, and is a superb animal, whose * See an account of this animal Bee vol, xii, p. 193. 1793. memorial of the E. of Galloway on salt duties. 333 history is as yet unknown in Europe. As also every particular that can be learned concerning the chittigong cows, whose tails are used as fly flaps in India 21. To pick up as often as you can find them, fixins of all quadrupeds, especially those animals noted for any valuable peculiarity ; being very careful to mark down as Many particulars respecting their natural history as you can learn, and the uses that are made of them in economy or arts. These skins if dried, and laid back to back with some ground pepper between them, and a few small grains of ‘camphor, may be easily brought safe to Europe. ADDITION TO THE MEMORIAL ON THE SALT DUTIES BY THE E. oF GALLOWAY &c. omitted in our last, from p. 299. From the foregoing state of facts it, appears that the duty, payable to the revenue on a barrel of beef or pork in England, is, at the present time, For one bufhel of home-made salt, £. ¢ 5 0 One- half ditto of foreign salt, - O 5 Total, — —- 0 On a barrel of Irifh beef or pork : ates Internal duty on home-made salt £.000 On % buthel of foreign salt, at 42d. per buthel, - - © 0 22 : Total, — —---0 0 — ’ tes Difference, -- f£.0 9 113 , $34 memorial of the E. of Galloway on salt duties. Oct. 30 | if for home consumption, in both countries, ~or for thip provisions, no duty or drawback being allowed on them. E ; Trifh beef, if brought to England, pays a duty of one fhilling per barrel on exportation in Ireland ; and, say, one fhilling more for freight: At that rate, a barrel of I- rith beef can be afforded in England, 7s, 11d. cheaper than a barrel of Britith cured beef~the prime cost of the meat being supposed the same. A Britith barrel of beef contains 32 gallons ; an Irith ‘barrel ony 28: therefore, if equally well packed, the Bri. tith barrel will contain 28 lib. more than the Irith barrel: which, at 3d. per lib. is 78. -An Irith barrel of beef, therefore, may be afforded for fhips provisions, at the rate * of 16s. 113d. cheaper than an Englith barrel of ditto, sup- posing the frefh meat had cost in both cases threepence per pound, ‘ Irifh beef imported into Britain, pays no duty to the Britifh revenue; but a barrel of Britith ditto pays 10s, ad. And as there remains in the barrel, about half-a buthel of salt after the beef is taken out, which is good for culi- nary purposes, the duty on which would be at, least 2s, 6d. The Britith revenue, at this rate, loses 12s, 8d. for every barrel of Irith beef and pork imported into Britain, or consumed in fhips provisions, which it would have drawn if Britifh salt-meat had been used in its stead. We thus may be said to have given a bounty of 125. 8d, on every barrel of Irith beef consumed by Britith subjects, with a view to give them a monopoly of this branch of trade a- gainst ourselves. j ie “i It has been fhown (page 214) that about 156,000 bar- rels of Irifh beef and pork are annually consumed in Bri- tain; and, computing fhips provisions to equal that, it 1793. index indicatortus. 338 would be 312,000 barels per annum; the bounty of which amounts, at the above rate, to 197,600]. per annum: What good reason can be afsigned, why Britain fhould sa- crifice so much for reprefsing her own agriculture and ma- nufuctures ? INDEX INDICATORIUS. T. K. sends a pretty elaborate efsay on education, which our room did not permit us to insert. Among other particulars he ob- serves, that “‘ A man without education is like a watch without wheels, for it is impofsible he can fill any station of life without it.” And again, ‘‘ How does an ignorant person look in a learned company? He looks like a fool without either sense or judgement ; for he does » tot know what they are speaking about, &c.” I know few words the meaning of which are lefs generally understood in Scotland than rpu-= cation. In general it seems to be applied, as here, to what is commonly called Zearning, which in its turn is almost as much wrested from ‘its original meaning, and is now almost exclusively applied to the ac- quisition of foreign languages, a thing which in itself, deserves not ° the name of learning; but is merely a scaffolding by means of which knowledge may be attained. Were Ito give a definition of learning, 1 fhould call it the acqui- sition of knowledge ; and were I to specify what education fhould per- form, it would be to put a person in the right train of acquiring wsefud knowledge. In that sense the acquisition of language may have its fhare. But much useful knowledge may be attained without that ; by consequence a man may have obtained a very good education without having been taught any other language than his mo- thertongue. A man of sense never will look like a fool, unlefs when he departs from his real character, and attempts to afsume another, and then he does not look like a fool only, but actually is a fool in that instance. No one will ever be blamed by persons of common sense for not knowing things that his situation ir life and circumstances did not put within his reach; but he may be blamed for acting fooliflly if he attempts to learn what his circumstances do not put within his reach, and what if he had at- tained, by having deprived him of the means of earning a proper sub- sistence, has rendered him a dependent, and consequently a mean and despicable animal. How many men may be found in Scotland who have got what fools call a good education, who have been thus t= ¥ 336 » index: indicatorius. 1 Octs. 308 totally deprived of the means of earning a suitable subsistence, and rendered miserable through life, who, if they had acquired a proper education, that is to say, had been insttucted ina businefs suited to their station and circumstanees, might have acted a becoming part in life, aad been very useful members of society. ; To THE READERS OF THE BEE. Peru. Tue Editor has a rare. opportunity of receiving intelli- gence from Peru, by means ef a literary gentleman going thither at present, and after a fhort stay there, to return hither, by whose means authentic information may be received relating to interesting objects in that country. The Editor intends to make npa memorial specifying particularly, such objects there, as occur to himself that . are only imperfectly known herve, and require farther elucidation ; and will be glad to insert in it such farthe1 particulars as may appear in- teresting to his readers. Any hints that fhall be transmitted to him in — two weeks from this date, post paid, fhall be duly attended to. .. ,/ Botany Bay. He has a similar opportunity to Botany Bay. Hints for that quar- ter of the world, also fhall have all neceisary attention paid to them. Nookta Sound. . - A similar opportunity occurs also to Nookta Sound at the present time, by the favour ofa gentleman who has made botany and natural histo- ry, a particular study; so that’ any memorandums on these subjects will have a good chance of procuring satisfactory elucidations. Bengal, Madras, China, &c. As the East India fhipsare soon to sail from Britain, he can have op- portunity of receiving elucidations respecting any particluar object that may be peculiarly interesting to particular readers from almost any European settlement in those quarters, and will be glad to lend his aid in forwarding such memou's or queries as they fhall think pro- pet to transmit tohim. But he requests that these queries may rather respect particular objects that are already in part known, than gene- ral questions, which seldom he finds lead to any active research. * 4 * To those readers ofthe Bee, by whose encouragement and punctual payments, the Editor has been enabled to carry on the work, his best thanks are due. But to others.who seem to forget that an extensive circulation, without punctual returns at short periods, is only a source of embara/sment, instead of ‘profit, he must take this oppor- tunity of ance more reminding them that the price of the work was put very low entirely.on the faith of having regular returns, and that both injustice to himself, and his other readers, he wul be put under the painful necefsity of charging the price to them ata higher rate, as formerly advertised, which he hopes they will prevent by a more punctual attention to this trifling matter, as it must.be to them. 2 ; : EV Roties ; a HISTOR!CAL CHRONICLE. WEDNESDAY SEPTEMBER 25. Foregien. Retrospective view of the political state of France. A ut the governments which sprung up in Europe on thé downfall of the Roman empire, were founded on the model of an army. The chief, un- der whatever name he was known, with the advice of his council; in other words, the general in a council of war, on extraordinary occasions were vest- ed with uhlimited authority ; and on ordinary occasions the authority of the chief was undisputed. The great body of the people were bound implicitly to obey. When the men were put into cantonments, as we may say, dur- ing peace, and thus withdrawn from the immediate power of the chief, each chieftain exercised unlimited authority over those of the district where he presided. By degrees, as a change of circumstances took place in the pro- grefs of society, this system of government also suftered a change. Univer- sally, the people, properly so called, acquired more power,—their persons and property were better secured, and their exertions of industry respected. In England, this progrefs, from a peculiarity of circumstances, was greater than in any other country; which has given rise, byslow degrees, to that constitu- tion of government which is so justly and universally admired., In France the people had not been so effectually secured from the power of the cheif- tains. But for near two hundred years past, the privileges of the people had been gradually becoming more and more respected, and their industry encou- ‘taged. Under Colbert, and several other ministers, the importance of the industry of the people, and the good policy of encouraging tliem, were well understood. The greatest bar the mionarchs felt in their attémpts to encourage indus- try, was the great power and privileges of the grandees; and various were the devices adopted to moderate that power: but of late the most efficati- ous was thought to be the dread of the bastile, and /ettres de cachet, which » gave to the prince a summary power of checking them when he pleased. This, to them, was therefore an object of dread, and just apprehension. The late unfortunate monarch, had the interest and happinefs of his people more at heart than perhaps any other monarch that ever sat ypon that throne, H. tv alone excepted ; but his indolence of disposition did not allow him to take those decisive measures which were best calculated to effect his pur- s. That beneficent dfsposition made him choose a minister who was ob- Moxious to his nebles, because a stranger and a plebeian, which excited secret VOL xvii, a ¢ + f historical chronicle. disgusts, of the consequences of which he was not aware. Mr Necker, a good man, anda greet arithmetician, but in regard to knowledge of the grand springs of political actions, perhaps one of the weakest of men» felt that great obstructions arose to his views of augmenting the prosperity of the people, from certain local stipwhations that had been made with the inhabitants of particular proyinces, when they were annexed to the crown. ‘These privileges had been always respected by the prince, and could not with safety be infringed ; but they had given rise to many political abuses, which he saw no pofsible way of removing. Artful men, who knew his weak side, sugested the idea of calling a meeting of the strates. That minister, believing that the beneficence of the proposals he fould make would be so universally recognised, and the utility of his plans so obvious, as | easily to induce the deputies of the people when afsembled in the sTATEs to acquiesce in them, he approved the proposal, and advised the king to adopt it. No sooner was this determination known, than all the active spirits in the mation were set at work, to contrive plans each for their own agerandizement ; for the effecting of which they trusted to their in- fluence in the great popular afsembly about to be opened, These, as in e- very case of this sort, were by each man kept secret; and many of them can never be so much as guefsed at, being concealed under various disguised veils. Many good and well meaning men not foreseeing the secret influ- ence of these sinister views, seriously rejoiced, in the prospect of thus getting many evils, that were obvious, removed. But soon did the minister see that ~ all his fine theories were swept away as obwebs before the rising breeze; and the others when too late have been fatally convinced of their error. No sooner did the national afsembly feelits power, than it went far beyond the bounds he had prescribed to it. The most artful persons among them, aware of the power of the nobility, and fearing to attack it directly, while the regal authority was unimpeached, began with attacking, by means of a popular insurrection, the 4a stile, knowing that in this attempt the nobility would secretly concur with the people. This being once done, and the ar- my bribed ‘rom its allegiance, the regal power received a decisive blow it never could recover; and the grandees in vain then attempted to restore © what they themselves had inadvertantly contributed to pull down. They could then be safely attacked; their privileges were at first curtailed; and soon after, their whole order was annihilated. Here once more, a number of good men like the worthy but fhort sighted © minister, saw that they had contributed to let loose an innundation whose eee extent could not be foreseen, and whose progrefs could not be upposed ; and numbers repented when too late. .The innundatign went forward. In vain did they opp°s¢ toit an Utopean constitution which pretended to stop the pros s ” TAY , st M ose historical chronicle. iii “grefs of men with unlimited power in their hands, by a sct of words imply- ‘ing authority where no power of enforcing obedience was given. This “constitution was received with universal applause ; because it set bounds to the ambition of no one, and was declared by the unanimous afsertions of a whole people to be eternal. The national ajsembly by that deed, was vo- luntarily difsolved, because the leading men in it had no doubt of becoming such in the convention, that was instantly to be called. Here again, intheir and the very first act. of this convention was ution, which a few months betore they hac “turn, they were disappointed ; to annihilate that eterzial constit sworn to preserve. Hitherto Lrserty had been the only boon that was sought by the peo- ple; but now the new word equality was added to it: a wood of mystexi- ‘ous import, which startled a few weak minds at first; and therefore it was explained away, till the time fhould come when it might be adopted in the most unequivocal sense of the word. The king was at first deposed, > then imprisoned,—then tried as a culprit, and brought to the block.—Milli- ons now saw that they had let loose a torrent which threatened to sweep away every thing they deemed valuable in society; but where was the ‘power to stopit? If a murmur was heard, the strong arm of power instantly crufhed the pretended culprit: .An attempt was at last made by those who had long been the most-active agents of what they called reform, to stem the torrent which they themselves had contributed to render all powerful. They found it irresistible ; and they were sweeped away before it, as the o- ‘thers in succefsion had been. The natural consequence of anarchy, a pure despotism, is now fully es- tablithed in France. A second constitution was offered and rejected. A third has been substituted and received in its place. By that constitution the na- tional convention fliould have been annihilated; but, under the pretext that the nation is in a state of danger, it has, like Oliver’s parliament been conti-~ ‘hued, in order to screen despotism from appearing to open view. Indeed “there is but one party in that convention at present; and that party is of course armed with the most absolute power, which is exercised with a rigi- dity of despotic authority of which no paraliel can be produced in the an- nals of Europe. Emifsaries are sent out to every quarter with full autho- rity to imprison or put to death every one they suspect of incivism, and to confiscate their property. They have absolute power to summon every indi- vidual to take the ficld when they please, The sytem of equality, so long 4 disavowed, is now establified by the Jaw itself, which declares that money “qhust be taken from the rich to support the poor: that bakers must sell bread ‘at a certain limited price avowedly bclow prime cost, taking their chance of Gndemnification from the state ; and lastly. that farmers must not take be- yond a limited very low price for their corn, whatever it'may have cost oF ‘ * * vy 3 ie oe Ae iv _ bistorical chronicle. : them, and without any promise of indemnification whatever. Such are the principles 6n which the ruling powers of France at present conduct themselves$ and such are the mece/sary consequences of the doctrine of liberty and equli- zy. Ofthese consequences, Mr Paine, the former apostle of these doctrines isnow made feelingly sensible. Present state of France. At present the whole power of that undivided despotic authority, is em- ployed to make a convulsive exertion, to try if they can free themselves at once, from the encroachment of inimical powers. Every future conside- ration, is postponed for the safety of the present hour; and where aiZisat stake, under such a pure d spotism, si may be expected that the preparations will be astonifhingly great. Since our last, the arms of the ominal republic have been succefsful in reducing the city of Marseilles to their obedience. But Zow/on, in want of provisions, and probably dreading the same fate, has entered into a negociation with Lord Hood, and has put him into poisefsion — of that important place, and arsenal, to be held by him in the name of Lou- is xvi1. till peace fhall be res'ored. Lyons is threatened, but not yet besieg- ed. The insurgents in Vendée are said to have been frequently defeated ; but these accounts are contradicted. In Rousillon the Spaniards have ale no considerable progrefs ; and though the Piedmontese have entered the dis- trict vi Mount Blank, yet their progrefs hasbeen inconsiderable ; and, in as ee far as can be collected from the imperfect accounts that reach us, it seems probable, that in the zzterior of France the patriotic army, in consequence 4 of these exertions, has been able to make head against the insurgents, so as rather to have gained than lost ground since our last. ; It is evident however from various applications to the national convention, that provisions are scarce, and famine in various places is much apprehend= ed. Rouen was lately in the most prefsing want; and a decree has just been pafsed, ordering the gardens round Paris to he cultivated at the nation al expence. Whata dreadful idea does this give of the universal opinion of the insecure state of pro;erty near that eity !!! ‘ Duke of York’s army. But the object that the rulers of France*seem to have had most at toon has been tocut offthe duke of York’sarmy before Dunkirk. For this purpose ; prodigiousexertions have been made, since heseparated from the main amyl Great bodies of troops have been drawn from the armies of the Moselle, the Rhine, and every quarter withinreach‘or this. grand enterprise’ These troops 7 7) 2 to the number of 120,000 men, as some accounts, probably much exaggerad} ted state, attackinghimon all sides, aided by the gun boats, and vigorous sal-_ lies from the garrison of Dunkirk, put his little army on the 8th, oth, and xoth of this month, into the most perilous situation ; so that, forced to abans | don about thirty-two pieces of battering cannon, and considerable stores, he , ot Gm { historical chronjcle. y only thought of making good his retreat to Ostend; which at one time, it seemed very doubtful if he would be able to effect. At thatcriticalmoment, General Beaulicu flew to theiraid; and upon the 8th attacked the French near Lisle, and obtaineda complete victory, asitwas first said, dispersing them with a great slaughter, and taking about thirty pieces of cannon. This has enabled the Duke of York’s army to recover from the dismay into which they had beenthrown. Asecond victory wassaid to be obtained by Beaulieu; butla-: ter accounts render this doubtful; and it is now known, that the French ‘have obtained pofsefsion of Ypres, the "Dutch having been driven back to Bruges ‘and Ghent, and thus will indeavour to prevent a junction between Beau- lieu and the duke of York’s army, which at the present moment appears to be in a situation -extremely perilous. Onthe r1sth, the Duke's army was encamped at Thoroute, a small village between Dixmude and Baugesy in ‘hourly expectation of being attacked. During the course of these operations, many attacks have been made up- on the French lines near Wifsemburg on the Rhine by the Prufsians, who have not yet been able to force them. In the mean while Strafbourgh is said to be ina state of i insurrection ; and Quesnoy has been obliged to sur- ‘render prisoners of war to the victorious arms of the prince of Saxe Cobourg, who took pofsefsion of iton the 13th. It is also reported that St Quentin surrendered to him without resistance: and that on his way from thence to besiege Cambray he also took a valuable convoy going for that place of ‘200 waggons otf provisions, and 14 of ammunition, besides 700 head of cattle and 200 horses. aie The French having weakened their forces towards Savoy to oppose the . Marseilloise, they now aiso talk of withdrawing their arms from before Nice, that they may have the benefit of these troops to forward their ope- ' rations in Provence. It is scarcely to be doubted that they will try if pofsible to recover Toulon from the Englith and the royatists. P Naval affairs. Tn consequence of the surrender and disarming of seventeen French fhips of the line, and seventeen frigates, in the harbour of Toulon; the whole ‘naval power of the French in the Mediterranean must be, for the present, totally annihilated: and their commerce in those seas, unlefs from the ports that submit to_the combined powers, entirely cut of. This must prove ; culiarly distrefsiug tu the inhabitants of the southern provinces of France, where the large towns of Marseilles, Aix, Avignon, Lyons, &c, containing much people, and the country producing little corn, depend upon foreign supplies for about three fourths of their subsistence. - Our ficet in the channe! under lord Howe has hitherto done nothing of. consequence ; he is still lying at Torbay, and collecting all the force he can from every quarter, as if he dreaded the attack of @ superior foe. It is in- i . : ‘ Wir . _ bistorteal chronicle. deed reported that the French fleet, consisting of 33 sail of the line, is im th channel; but no person has yet seen them. The nation in general do not}? Jook upon Lord Howe’s conduct at present with a favourable eye. Time will | discover if he has had sufficient reason for this scrupulous caution. From the representations that are given to the convention of the State of Brest, it woud seem that they are under great apprehensions that neither the officers of the navy, nor the people of that place, are tofbe depended upon; and ‘fhould it happen that the insurgents in Vendée in imitation of those of Tous Jon, fhould apply for the aid of Britain in support of Louis xv11, and fhould @ navy appear before Brest of superior force, and a negociation be conduc. ted with equal moderation as that entered into by lord Hood, it does not seem beyond the bounds of pofsibrlity that Brest might be delivered up on nearly the same terms with Toulon. But so long as Gaston, whose views seem to be at least doubtful, fhall have the principal sway im those parts, a steady unanimity on this head needs perhaps not be expected. 3 As a strong detachment from lord Hood’s squadron may be soon expected home, it may be reasonably thought that fhould the present tempest be weathered without.any material damage, the operations in the channel will be carried on with greater vigour than heretofore. Britain has derived hi- therto scarcely any aisistance in her naval operations either from the Ruf- sians or Dutch, and none irom the Portuguese ;—and though the Spaniards haye a numerous squadron in the Mediterranean, we have heard of nothing | they have done. Lord Hood commands on that station no lefs than 20 Bri- tifh fhips of the line; besides the Romney of 50, and Dolphin of 44 guns, 16 frigates and sloops of war, and 2 firefhips; in all 40 fhips of war; a force that one would think, even independent of the Spanifh fleet, much more ‘than could be wanted in those seas. TLe following is the declaration of the inhabitants of Toulon, and ise con~ ditions on which they agreed to put lord Hood in pofsefsion of that place. ' Declaration made to Adm. Lord Hood. The General Committee of the Sections of Toulon having read the procla- mation of Admirai Lord Hood, Commander in Chief of his Britannic Majesty’s squadron, together with his primary declaration; and, after having commu- nicated these two papers to all the citizens of the town of Toulon, united in sections. Considering that France is torn by anarchy, and that it is impofsible to exist longer a prey to the factions with which the country is agitated, with- out its total destruction: Considering that the southern departments, after having made foag ef- forts to resist the op prefsion of a party of factious men, who have conspired to ruin them, find themselves drained and deprived of all resources to anni- hilate this coalition of the evil- disposed : ; Considering, in thort, that determined not to submit to the tyranny of a Convention that has sworn to ruin the nation, the people of Toulon, ard those oY Marseilles, would rather have recourse to the ea of a ‘loyal 4 historical chronicle, vii ople, who has manifested the desire of protecting the true Frenchmen a- fgainst the anarchists who wish to ruin them: F Declare to Admirai Hood, I. That the unanimous with of the inhabitants of Toulon, is to reject a consti tion which does not promote their happinefs, to adopt a-Monarchic Govern ent such as it‘evas originally by the Constituent Afsemb‘y of 1789; and in consequence, they have proclaimed Louis XVII. son to Louis XVI. Kine, and have sworn to acknow!edge him, and no longer suffer the despotism of the tyrants which at this time govern France. Il. That the white flag thall be hoisted the instant the Englith squadron anchors in the road of Toulen, and it will there meet the most friendly re- ception. ; III. That the thips of war now in the road will be disarmed, according to Admiral Hood’s withes. IV. That the citadel and the forts of the coast fhall be provisionally at the disposal of the said admiral; but for the better establifhing the union which ought to exist between the two people, it is requested that the gairi- son fhall be composed of an equal number of French and Englifh, and that neverthelefs the command fhali devolve to the Englith. V. The people of Toulon trust the Englifh nation will rurnifh speedily a force sufficient to afsist in repelling the attacks with which they are at this moment threatened by the ariny of Italy, which marches towards Toulon, site by that ot General Carrxavu, who directs his forces against Mar- eilles. VI. That the people of Toulon, full of -onfidence in the generous offers of Admiral Hood, trust that all those who held civil and military employ- ments fhall be continued in their places, and fhall not be annoyed in their Tespective occupations. . VIL. That the subsistence and succours of every kind, of which Toulon stands so much in need, will be aisured to the inhabitants by the combined fleet of the powers coalesced. VIII. That when peace will have been re-establifhed in France, the fhips and forts which fhall be put into the hands of th Englifh fhall be re- stored to the French nation, in the same state they were in when the inven- tory was delivered. It is according to this declaration, if approved by Admiral Hood, that the Toulonese will regard themselves, with good heart and will, as belonging to the Englifh and the other powers coalesced, and by whose succour wili be brought about that peace after which an have panted so long. (Signed BEAUDEAL, President, and 28 of the principal inhabitants. Lord Hood was put into pofsefsion of the town on the 28 Aug. when he immediarely delivered the following proclamation. PROCLAMATION By the right bon. Samuet Lorp Hoop, wice admiral of the red, and com- er in chief of his Britannic Majesty’s squadron in the Mediterra~ nean, &c. &e. Whereas the sections of Toulon have, by their commifsioners to me, made a solemn declaration in favour of monarchy, have proclaimed Louis xvit. son of the late Louis xvi. their lawful king, and have sworn to acknow- ledge him, and no longer suffer the despotism of the tyrants which at this _ “time govern France, but will do their utmost to establifth monarchy, as ac- cepted by their late sovereign in 1789, and restore peace to their distracted and calamitous country. - - viii. historical chronicle. - 7 I do hereby repeat;'what I have already declared to the people of the. 4 South of France, that I take pofsefsion of Toulon, and hold it ia trust only. for Louis xvir. until peace fhall be re-establifhed in France, which I hope | and trust will be soon.” Ve Given on Board his Britannic Majesty’s (Hip Victory. of Toulon, the 28th of August 1793. (Signed) ~ HOOD. A memorial has been presented to the court of Swed Mr Keene, \ambaisador from the court of Great Britain, desiring that Sweden wilk not permit any British fhips that mzy be captured and brought into the Swe- dith ports to be sold, but that it would give orders to release the fhips, cargoes, andcrews ; and thatthe enemy’sfhips may not be permitted to remain in the Swedifh harbours. The duke regent has complied with this request; afsuringshis Britannic majesty that the most vigorous orders will be given for that purpose, stili farther to cement the harmony betwixt the two courts, so advantageous to both. POSTSCRIPT. Edinburgh Sept. 24th, by the last accounts from the combined army, our fears for the safety of the troops under the command of the duke of York, | are in a great measure removed. It now seéms to be pretty certain that he has advanced towards Menin to forma junction with Beaulieu,—that these two generals had attacked thé French there, and obliged them to retire; and that in several other places, the French parties had been beat back with considerable iofs; and every thing resumed its wonted appearance (in that army. ; i Letters are in town also, specifying that General Carteaw had advanced towards Toulon, with a view to attack it; and for that purpose had occu- pied some of the adjacent heights, and begun to fortify them,—that captain | Elphingston had made a sally with the troops under hiscommand, consisting of Britith, Spanith, and French, and had beat back Carteau with the lofs of all his artillery, &c. But this news is not so well authenticated as to be considered as certain. It now appears, that the fleet which, in the channel, had been mistaken, by the cautious Howe, for the Brest squadron, was only a Dutch flect of imerchantnien under convoy of some’ fhips of war. Whether this phantom being vanifhed, lord Howe will think it prudent to slip‘ his spring cables and put to sea, or if he will be detained there by another phantom of the same kind, it is not easy te say. ; So far is the French squadron at Brest from being dreaded, that it would seem probable they are now planning a revolution of the same kind with that of Toulon. An emigrant who made his escape in a boat from Brittanny, says, that when he left that place difsentiou prevailed so much in Brest, that a great part of the sailors refused to act; and that a vefsel Hearing a flag of truce had been sent off from that harbour before he leit it; but what the in- tentionof it was, he could not with certainty say. It is probably this cir~ cumstance which has given rise to the report which has prevalled in Lon~ don, for some days pest, that proposals had been received by lord Howe, from the people of Brest, of the same tendency,with the overtures from Tou- lonto,lord Hood; but that lord Howe, from she superabundance of his cau- tion had thought it necefsary to receive instrit¢tions from London before. he could venture to determine how he fhould act on this singularly difficult and critical occesion- All this wants confirmation. But the reports respece ting Brest in the national convention, give some countenance to the story. There alsoit has peeliikated that the insurgeuts in Vendée instead of being’ beaten, continue to wax stronger and stronger every day. ~ r SS ! eS RT SR ST ES eR ET ES SRE HISTORICAL CHRONICLE. Sa t - ) WEDNESDAY OCTOBER 16. > Foreicn. Retrospective view of the progre/s of the'allied armies, &c. , HEN the Duke of Brunswick invaded France, it seems to have been the decided opinion of the allied powers, that nothing more was wanted for establifhing royalty in France than to bring together an armed force that might serve as a rallying point to give countenance to the Royalists, who they imagined would rise in great bodies, and effect a revolution without trouble or much bloodfhed. But if such were their expettations, the event fhowed they were miserably deceived; and indeed the measures adopted by the Duke were the best calculated to throw bars in his way, that could have been conceived. The manifestos he publifhed were so insulting, and so utterly the reverse of being conciliatory, that they rather served to unite than to disjoin the party he opposed; and by imprefsing the favourers of the royal cause with a mean opinion of those who pretended to support it, de- terred them from declaring their sentiments, or coming forward in his sup- port, lest they fhould be abandoned to their fate by the capriciousnefs of men who seemed to be so little capable of judging rightly, or of acting stea- dily in their support. The event fhowed that they judged rightly in this respect; and the con. duct of the allies to Fayette completely annihilated every expectation they could have formed from that quarter. These events, with the gasconading manifesto publifhed bythe Duke at ¢he moment he found himself obliged, from sicknefs and: want of provisions, to make a precipitate retreat before an army led on by an active general, who > knewjthat nothing could save him from destruction but succefsat that moment, completely removed any remains of confidence in the allied powers, that had been suffered to exist till that period. Every person who seemed to be within the reach of danger made haste to abandon a cause that was suppor- ted by men who seemed to be so little capable of affording them protecti- on. In consequence of this, the secret abettors of royalty were eager to, come forward in support of the Republican cause, in order to remove suspi- cions that they thought must prove destructive to them; and all who were unfixed in their principles were induced to espouse the democratical cause, and heartily to co-operate in itssupport. By these means Dumourier was enabled to make a winter campaign, which, for brilliancy of succefs, was unequalled in the annals of past times. In a few months he over-ran the VOL, XVII, b a x baron chronicle: whole of the Netherlands; invaded Germany ; ; got the command of the Scheldt and the Rhine; and making the most vigorous exertions, to enter Hol- land, properly so called, he boasted that even Britain and the most remote parts of Europe fhould be subjected, and that nothing fhould stop the pro~ grefs of the French arms, but the total annihilation of royalt very where. To give some appearances of reality to these threats, Savoy was invaded, and part of its territories annexed to the dominions of France. Switserland» Spain, Naples, were threatened an# overawed ; and the pontiff of Rome him- self insulted in his own palace. Such succefses intoxicated the people; and the national convention seeming to believe that nothing was impofsible yor them to accomplifh, made a decree, offering fraternity qnd support to those persons of all nations who fhould attempt to overturn royalty, and es- tablith republicanism in its stead. _ During this paroxysm of republican ardour, they judged it proper, as an ex™ ample for all nations, to bring their own king to the-block, after a trial, which, from the singularity of the circumstances attending it, not lefsthan the xules of jarisprudence there, practically avowed, has no parallel in history. By these violent proceedings, Holland, Britain, Spain, Portugal, and Sar- dinia, were driven to join the alliance that had been before entered into be- tween Austria and Prufsia, to reprefs the power of France. By a vigorous and joint exertion, the arms of France received a decisive check at one mo- ment, through every point along the utmost extent of their whole conquest in the north. In one week they were repulsed in almost every place; and with a rapidity still greater than their conquests had been made, they were driven from every one of their new conquests, Mentz alone excepted, and confined once more to the limits of their own proper territories on that side» During the fhort space the French had been in pofsefsion of these new ' conquests, the people there had had time to. appreciate the vaine of that new kind of government they wifhed to establith in place of all others, and were in general so much disgusted with it, that they were still more unani- mous in concurring with the allies to expel the French from their territories, than they had lately been to invite them thither, which greatly facilita- ted the operations of the campaign at thisperiod. But when the allies came in their turn to invade the territories of France, these considerations no lon- ger operated in the same manner;-but in their stead, other considerations be- gan to operate on men’s minds, which produced a resistance that retarded the rapidity of their conquests in a considerable degree. So long as the allies were only re-conquering their own provinces, few so- ber minded men, even in France, could view their exertions as iniquitous, or entertain a well founded jealousy of their designs; but the moment they invaded the tervitories of France, the case was changed. It is well known that the amor patrie, iufluences mankind in a very strong degree, so that however much individuals may differ in lefser points, they » historical chronicle. xi generally feel their minds so much irritated against any power that makes a direct attack upon the territories of their native country, that the first impulse they feel is an indignant desire to oppose them; nothing therefore tends so much to allay civil discords as such an attack, nor can any other means be devised equally powerful to unite different parties in a state where discord hegins to prevail. The allies seérn either not to have ad- verted to this human propensity, or they have believed themselves so power- fal as to think that they might with safety disregard it. Insteaa of endea- vouring to conciliate the good will of such persons in France as might be seriously anxious for the restoration of peace and good order in that distract- ed country, thejr conduct has been such axto give them reason to dread that the chief object these allies had in view, was a dismemberment of the king” dom, by obtaining such a footing in it as might put it in their power at any future period to subject the people of France to whatever regulations they fhould please to dictate ; and the dismemberment of Poland affords at present but too striking an example of the use that may be expected to be made of such a power. ‘That such considerations have occurred to sensible mea in France there can be no doubt; and there can be as little doubt that this hhas produced an ardour and unanimity in opposing the allies, that never would have been experienced had no such jealousy against their views ex- isted—Whether such a jealousy has entered into the mind of such of the allies as can han have no interest in the dismemberment of France, so as to cool their exertions in the cause, we have no authority as yet to say. But it is so natural to expect it fhould, that we can scarcely suppose it ean have been entirely overlooked. It is not at all improbable, but the capture of Dun- kirk was held out to Britain as a bait to keep her quiet in the mean time. The failure of that enterprise has occasioned an indignation, which among a high spirited people, may produce a temporary spurt that may keep the o- ther object out of view for some time. : That the views of Austria and Prufsia with regard to conquests in France, are such as they do not dare to avow even to their allies, seems scarcely to admit of a doubt, otherways their proceedings have been such as to contra-~ dict all the dictates of prudence and of common sense. Had they had no si- nister object in view, would they not have made aclear and unequivocal declaration at the first, before they set a foot upon the territories of France, Gpecifying, in the most direct terms, the precise object they had in view, and in a candid and open manner inviting all honest Frenchmen to unite in freeing their country from that opprefsive despotism which now threatens to destroy it; reqesting them to make haste in establifhing such a government as fhould be calculated to preserve the person of individuals from danger, and their property from insult ; declaring at the same time that they had no, - other object in view than to contribute to the establifhment ofsuch a go- vernment «5 fhould seem to be calculated to preserve the internal: tranquilli- ty of the kingdom, and to give to foreign states such q reasonable security sii historical chronicle. as may be expected from a government whieh is pofsefsed of such stability as to give room to expect that the dictates of sound sense, unawed by the turbulence of faction, could be carried into execution in all cases. That ia the meantime they would adopt such a mode of government in regard to such places in France, as fhould chuse to put themselves under paix protec. tion, as fhould convince the inhabitants they had no other object in view but the protection and happinefs of these inhabitants, and their own security.” Had this been done, and had their conduct beén such, upon the first tri- als, as to give a reasonable ground to believe their profefsions were sincere, there s little room to doubt but they would have experienced a very difte- rent reception in France fom what they have done ;—and there are good reasons to believe, that in that case, the war might have been at an end before this time. All these >ings «re so plain, that to a man of such penetration as the Prince de Cobours, bh y could not have been overlooked. But so far have they been from adopting this candid mode of conduct, that they have proceeded invariably ‘© wrest such places from France, by mere force, as they have been able to master, preserving in the mean time the most pro- found and suspicious silence with regard to their future views.. And when the piaces have been conquered éy force, instead ofregarding the remonstran- ces of Mozsieur, who wifhed that a conduct of this kind fhould be adopted, these remonstrances have met with the most mortifying neglect, and a my- sterious proclamation has been ifsued, offering only security of person and property to those who submit quietly to the dominion of the allied powers, while the places fhall remain in their pofsafsion, The object of Austria and Prufsia in regard to these particulars, seems to be by no means inexplicable, and the consequence, of these apparent #iews in protracting the war is obvious; but there is another particular respecting the conduct of these powers during the currency of the present war, that baffles all conjecture to account for. . The aim of every belligerent power is, to weaken its opponent as much as pofsible; and as nothing tends so. much to relax the vigour of execution, as to excite a distrust in the persons who. must be employed in high military departments, it is the most obvious duty of every power at war with another, to let no.circumstance escape, that can tend to excite distrust of the generals employed. But never was there a war in which this could have been so easily and efectually practised as the present: Nor was there ever an instance known, in which a belligerent power had been so careful to avoid making use of this obviously favourable circumstance, asthe present. Austria and Prufsia have indeed done as much to prevent this kind of treachery in their enemies, as every other warring power we have known, would have done to ‘encourage it. Fayette no sooner came over to them than he was thrown into prison, where he has been guarded ever since with the utmost care. And Dumourier has been treated in such a manner as to deter any other man in similar circumstances historical chronicle. . Slit _ from thinking of following his example. In the actual circumstances of the case, this is a conduct the most impolitic that can be conceived ; for, since the national convention have found it suited their polity to put every gene- ral to death who was not succefsful, thus intending to compel them to fight with the most determined bravery, it was surely the interest of their op- ponents to disarm them if polsible of that fury, by offering them a safe asy- lum whenever they might find their position so dangerous as to render it prudent in them to change sides. This would have not only. tended to disarm their enemies of that fury, which may prove so destructive, but it would _ have had the farther effect of making all the republican generals so exceed- ingly suspected, that the convention would have been afraid of entrusting power completely into any hand for one moment, the consequences of which : distrust in cases of critical military operations are obvious. By pursuing an " opposite conduct, the allies have enabled the national convention to cut off the heads of one general after another, in the firm conviction that as, long as the allies fhall adhere to this mode of conduct, they fhall be able at least to arm their generals with desperation. All these considerations are so obvious, that one must believe the allies have some very powerful motive for this wonderful conduct, which is altogether inexplicable. As to their ‘detestation of the moral turpitude of this conduct, it is ridiculous to think this could have any weight in fuch a case. Toulon, and the southern parts of France. _ Britain has happily adopted a more explicit mode of couduct at Toulon. Her declarations have been candid and explicit; and it is to be hoped the will adopt fuch a mode of conduct as to fhow unequivocally that fhe is sincere n these declarations. Should that be the case, it is very probable the example ay prove infectious; and that the whole fouth of France may thus be in- uced to unite and restore tranquillity to that distracted kingdom, fo as to mit of a speedy peace upon such terms as may promise a lasting tranquillity, hich may enable that country to afsume once more that weight in the po- itical scale of Europe, which it is our interest at least fhe never fhould lose. e French are at prefent making every polsibie exertion to regain that im- ant place; and the Britifh and Spaniards are equally active in preparing ‘o defend it. A little time will discover \whiclr will prove succefsful. In mean while, it is easy to foresce, that if the French fhall not there suc= , Marfeilles and Thoulouse will be obliged to adopt a similar revolution - re ith that of Toulon, were it only to preserve them from famine. Thoulouse indeed said to be already in the hands of the Spaniards ; but this wants ronfirmation. Lyons is still besieged. On the western coasts Bourdeaux is ftill said to he in a state of insurrec- ion; but no decisive measures secm to have been adopted: And from what san be learned, the royalists in Brittany still seem to be rather gaining thun Bhi - xiv _ biforical chronicle. ) losing ground. Nothing respecting the state of Brest has transpired since} our‘last. Ai ' The French are said to have abandoned Nice, and to have been defeated} in Picdmont. . But nothing certain is known respecting them. The allies on the northern frontiers have been in general advancing sincefi our last; several victories have been gained by them, but nothing of deci-f" _ Sive consequence. |, : DOMESTIC. ae Lord Howe still keeps his station at Torbay. He sailed, but was beat back in a few days by contrary winds. ; Jervis, supposed to befor the West Indies; the land forces to be commanded by Sir Charles Grey.—The conquest of all the French islands is the supposed object of this armament. f A violent commotion took place at Bristol last week, to quell which the military were obliged to fire. On this occasion between 30 and 4o personsft were unfortunately killed. The caufe of this disturbance was the continua tion of a toll upon a bridge and fome other places, after the term was eX mf / pired when the public believed the tolls by act of parliament ought to have been taken off,—the mob insisting that the tolls fhould be removed, andi 2 ‘the commifsioners to whom this was intrufted refusing to do so.—The trust-}., ees at last publifhed a state of their accounts, from which it appeared that a the whole fum authorised by parliament had not been levied. The magis: trates having agreed to make up this deficiency to the trustees, the tolls com.| plained of have been taken off, and tranquillity restored 5. but unfortunatelyf not till after many unhappy perfons had suffered. qi ; . America. H The inhabitants of New York have adopted several resolutions, approving in strong terms of the conduct of the president Wafhington, for his strict at. h tention to preserve the most rigid neutrality on the present occasion. Gene-§™ ral Wafhington’s anfwer to that addrefs is strongly exprefsive of his fatisfacsy tion at obtaining the approbation of thefe respectable citizens of a conductf. which: he believed to be efsentially necefsary for promoting the welfare olf ¢ the united states. Citizen Genet, the French plenipotentiary in America, has been very ac. F tive in his endeavours to induce the people in America to declare for France| and has on that account been discountenanced, as it fhould feem, by Mr Wath, ington. Gezet addrefses a long letter to Mr Wathington on this subject, da. ted New York, 13th Auguft, 1793, to whch the president, by means of Jeffetfon fecretary of state, declines to give any anfwer, on the footing of it being unformal, as all papers addrefsed to the president fhould be transmitte¢ -t0 the secretary of state. 3 at A historical chronicle. . xv a ere MISCELLANEOUS. The late General Custine was about to be acquitted by the Revolutionary ribunal;"but Roberspierre sent some of his emifsaries to that *Tribunal tell them, that if Custine was not executed on the following day, the pads of the jury fhould be carried about on pikes—This had the desired ef- ct.—After the exécutioner had struck off his head, which was bald, he bok it by the ear, and fhewed it to the people, who set up an immoderate out of laughter. Anecdote.—When Field-Marfhal Freytag was taken prisoner at Rexpoede, e French Hufsar who feized him, perceiving that he had a valuable watch, id, “ Give me your watch ;” The Marshal instantly complied with the emand of his captor. A fhort time after, when he was liberated by the allantry of General Walmoden, and the French Hufsar had become a pri~ bner in his turn, the latter with great unconcern, pulled the|Marthal’s ‘atch out of his pocket, and presenting it to him, faid, ‘‘ Since fate has ned against me, take back this watch ; it belonged to you, and it would ot be so well to let others strip me of it.” Marfhal Freytag admiring this principled conduct of the Sans Cudlote, ‘ho did not know him, took back the watch, and immediately after pre- ented it to the Frenchman, saying, “‘ Keep the watch: it fhali not become nine, for I have been your prisoner.” The late violation of private property in Paris, by the seizures of the aifse d’Escompte, and the East-India House, contributed greatly to the @ounter-revolution in Toulon. The merchants finding all security contemn- d and outraged, abandoned at once the interest of the plunderers, and inrew themselves for safety into the hands of the Englifh, who will no doubt ehave to them with that generosity which such unlimited confidence de- ands. | ‘The costly effects seized on by the imperial Government, when M. de Se- fmonville and Maret were arrested, and which were attached to their splen- lid embaisy, have beed carried to Vienna, where they are at present depo- “app They turnout to be of immense valve, and consist of the following ticles : _ Two very magnificent state carriages—the private instructions of the a- bove two gentlemen—two cafkets, belonging to the late French King, valu- ed at two millions of florins; among other precious jewels, is the famous @orilliant called the Regent—two other cafkets, with jewellery—a table ser- vice of gold, for twenty persons—200,000 Lous d’Ors in gold and bills of ex- fehange—a large quantity of gold tapestry, Jace, &c. All these articles his mperial Majesty has promised to take care of. Ay! EXTRAORDINARY ROBBERY- § A Gentleman, who was pafsing up the east sideof Hatton Garden, about five *clock on the afternoon of Sep. 20, heard indistinctly frequent cries of mur- der! accompanied with groans, which at length appeared to him to proceed rom the inner rooms of one of the houses. No answer being returned to his repeated knocks at the door, he procured a ladder from a glazier’s ser- fant, who was pafsing by, and both afsended toa window, where they 2- in heard the cries, but the latter person was so much alarmed that he re- ed to be the firs, in entering the houfe, and it was necefsary to descend he ladder, to change their position. After this interruption, they and soma bther persons searched every room in the house, in which they found neither _ mhabitants nor furniture. 5 siti historical chronicle. At length in a cellar in the yard, over which was a locked grating, they discovered a youth of about 18 years of age, bound hands and feet, and while they were releasing him, the police officers, who had been sent for, arrived. Tt appeared, that the young man, who is collecting clerk to Mefs. Lubbock, had gone to the house with a bill upon the owner, who is in tht country. The door was opened to him by two men, who immediately siezed, rifled his pockets of his cafh and notes, bound him, and locked him into the cellar; after which they maade their escape over the garden wall, promising to re- turn and release him at ten at night. He was happily released without in- jury than from his alarm, and taken in a coach immediately to Mefs. Lub- bock’s. , The Dutch, in their accounts of their late retreats, attribute them to the check received by the Duke of York and General Freytag, and to their be- ing left with only 7000 men to guard a vast extent of country, while the — French were 30,000. They say they fought with great bravery. They had three lieutenant colonels killed. Prince Frederick of Orange, Prince Chris- tian of Denmark, and Major-general Wertensleben, wounded—and Major- general Gravemoer is wounded and taken prisoner, after having his horse — fhot under him. M. Maletherbes, one of the official defenders of the late King of France, it is said, has just been arrefted as a suspicious person. Deseze, another defender of the unfortunate monarch, has been obliged to fly, and it is thought he is come over to England. It is said that Bailie, the firft mayor of Paris, has been arrested at Melun, and is on his way te Paris. Prince Waldeck was the other day incompany with some officers of Condé, - reconnoitring near Lauterburg the, French line, and met with a French picket also of officers. The officers of Condé saluted first, and then the — Prince, which was returned by the French with the hands only, without pul- ling off their hats. i L The Prince began a conversation with them.—They were extremely po- lite—said their army was very ftrong; that their preparations for defence were excellent; that every thing they wanted was brought them with the greateft willingnefs; but that instead of money they had only affignats. During this conversation Prince Waldeck dropped one of his gloves, which was immediately taken up and returned to the Prince by a servant of 2 French colonel. The Prince gave this servant three ducats, which he thank- fully accepted, alleging, that there was not fo much ready cafh in the whole regiment. After which Prince Waldeck said to the French colonel, that he was surprised he could put himself at the head of such men. The French officer replied, ‘* We fight for our native country, and deem it an honour to command such men; but with you it is quite different.” All on a sudden they were apprised that they were in conference with the Imperial General Prince Waldeck ; upon which they immediately pulled off their hats, fhowed him all poGible refpect under the moft flatteriag expref- sions ;—clapped spurs to their horses, and exclaimed, * Adieu, Mr General ; in the field of battle we fhall see one another again!’ A few days since an Englith gentleman chanced to be standing with a Dutch merchant on the quay of Rotterdam, when an American vefsel enter-"__ ed the port— There,” faid Mynheer, pointing to Milfs Yanky, ** that is — what we fhould be doing instead of wasting our dollars and spilling our — blood.” a 3 ¢ HISTORICAL CHRONICLE. ———. WEDNESDAY NovEMBER 6, : ForEIcn. Warlike operations. tnce ourlast the military operations in France-haye been vigorous tho’ “nothing decisive on the frontiers of France has yet happened. On the one hand the French having used’ every effort to augment their army near Lisle, attacked the allied army under the Prince de Cobourg on the 16th and r7th last, withso much vigour asto compel him to raise the siege of Maubeuge, and to retreat beyond the Sambre. The lofs on either side du- ring this severe conflict is not yet known; but it must have been conside- rable. Prince Cobourg’s army is not broken. The retreat was effected- in good order, and none of the artillery lost. He now occupies a strong position it is said in the neighbourhood of Mons. This gives a check at least to the progrefs of the allies there in the mean while. The French have at the same time made another vigorous effort to enter Austrian Flanders on the west ; Furnes, a small defencelefs place near Dun- kirk has been taken, Newport has been summoned to surrender to a body of troops said to be ten thousand strong, and has been saved for the present merely by the effect of the inundations made on the surrounding country ; Ostend and Bruges are both threatened by the same body of forces, and such preparations as are capable of being made for defending such defence- Jeis places are going forward with alacrity, though it seems pretty evident that if the enemy are able to keep the field, and no superior force can be brought against them there, these towns could not make great resistence. Several bomb veisels, gun boats, and frigates are brought before Ostend to afsist in the defence, fhould it be necefsgrv. On the other hand while the army on the Rhine was weakened to forward these undertakings, General Wurmser attacked the formidable lines of Wefsenburgh, which he completely carried, and thus got an entrance into the territories of France on that quarter; an object which, for many months past, the Prufsians have in vain attempted to effect, and which might pro- bably have baffled their utmost efforts during the campaign, but for the circumstance above stated. Landau is said to have already surrendered ; and by the last accounts Strafburgh was said to be upon the point of surren- dering 3 but this wants confirmation. Whether the French have acted wise- ly in thus admitting the enemy into their comparatively defenceiefs frontier on the east,in order to give a check to the progrefs of the enemy upon the VOL, XVII. ¢ t Ee seu 4 Rviil historical chronicle. north, which amidst so many strongly iortified places must have. beena t best but slow, we pretend not at present tosay. It is perhaps of more con- sequence for them at present to gain an apparent victory than we are aware of, Time will fhow. ; In the interior of France the troops of the national conteneest seem, if, § pr the accounts that reach us can be believed, to have met with considera- ble succefs. Lyons opened it gates to them on the gth ult. after the gar-~ rison had to the number of 30,000 men secretly made its escape from thence. They have been pursued, and by the account o! the republican ge- nerals most of them have been cut to pieces. By the same accounts the royalists in Vendée have sustained several defeats. The Spaniards, they say, have been also repulsed in the lower Pyrenees, and the’ Savoyards driven out of Piedmont. But these reports are of doubtiul authority. Surmises likewise are abroad that general Conclaux has left the army near Toulon, and taken refuge among the Englifh in that place. But neither 1s this in- . formation to be relied on. , But it is altogether certain that the national convention irritated by the defection of the Lyonoise, and the obstinate defence they made when be- sieged , have pafsed a decree to raze that city to the foundation, and: not to J leave one stone upon another, except a few houses belonging toa select numbet of true sams culottes. This severe decree, unexampled in the his- tory of past times, unlefs it be by the decree of the Athenians to raze the city of Lesbos, and put to the sword the whole of its inhabitants, men, women, and children, which was next day reversed by that giddy pe-pie, be put in competition with it. This seemsto have been done with a view to please the Parisians, who have long looked upon Lyons as a sort of rival to Paris And there is little reason to suspect that it will not be carried into effect. The city of Lyons before the present trouble was sup- posed to contain not lefs than 150,000 inhabitants, and was the most opulent | manulacturing town in France. , The queen of France. Had not the world been long prepared for the event, by a series of atro- cities fast succeeding each other, im an uninterrupted series for a long while past, the murder of the queen of France would have exciied the most lively” 4 sensations Of horror. In the present state of things, it has been considered — as little more than an ordinary event. She, poor woman, is at length at her rest, and beyond the power of farther outrage. Her son and daugh- er yet remain, probably to afford another. and a still more unexampled in. \ stance of the wonderful lengths to which the wickednefs of the human heart can be carried when uncurb’d by asense of moral rectitude, religion, F orthe law. The following is a succinct account of the mock oe by which, they disgraced the sacred forms of justice, historical chronicle. xix id CoNDEMNATION AND EXECUTION OF THE QUEEN OF FRANCE. The decree of the Convention, ordering ‘that her tral fhould come on within eight days, was implicitly obeyed by the Revojutionary Tribunal. The trial took placeon the 15th ult. ‘The following is an extract of part of the proceedings: ACT OF ACCUSATION, OR INDICTMENT. Martz ANTOINETTE stands charged, ast, With having dilapidated and lavifhed the finances of the nation, in concert with the execrable Calonne, by causing to be transmitted to the Emperor several miliions, wiich still serve to carry on the war’ with France. : 2dly, With having, in imitation of Brunehaud, and De Medecis, who also called themselves gueens of France, conspired against the liberty of the French nation. gdly, With having sought to starve the people in 1789. 4ithly, With having excited the murders of October 5. and 6. sthly, With having, in concert with Bally and da Fayette, caused the patriots-to be butchered inthe Champ de Mars. 6thly, With having prevailed upon the Swifs to fire on the people on the toth of August. qhly, With having, like another Agrippina, forgotten that fhe was a mother, in order to commit incest with her son. . Marie Antoinette heard the reading of the act of accusation, without - seeming to be in the least moved. [Here the interrogatory began.] President—“ What is your name?” Queen—“ Marie Antoinette, of Lorrain and Austria.” : President—“ Your quality.” Queen—* I am the widow of Louis Capet king of the French,” [Here the witnefses were called in.] Laurent Lecointre, the first witnefs, formerly chief of division of the nae tional guard of Versailles, and at present a member of the Natiénal Con- vention, related the historical occurrences ot the sth and 6th of October ; and from his relation it. appeared, that the ci devant gardes’de corps, or life-guards, were th: first aggrefsors. Lecointre spoke also, though not as an ocular witnefs of the nocturnal riot which was occasioned Oct. 3. at Versailles by the late king’s life-guards in the hall of the Opera. ‘“ Marie Antoinette,”’ said he, “ repaired to that banquet :—fhe applauded the con- _ duct of the guards: fhe also visited the regimentof Nafsan and the chaf- seurs of Trois Eveches, who were quartered in the Orangerie of the Gardens of Versailles,” ae, historical chronicle. hr ~ Queen—* I repaired, I must own, with my hufband and his children té the hall of the Opera-house; but I did not sée that the national cocade was trod under foot. It is false thet I ever spoke to the soldiers of the regiment of Nafsau, or to the chafseurs of Trois Eveches.”’ President—* What did you say to the life guards when you appeared. at that orgy >?” Queen—* I applauded that banquet, because it was to nae produced the . union of the life guards with the national guards.” - Public Accuser—“ Have you not held secret councils at the house of the ci-devant Duchefs of Polignac—Councils at which the ci-devant French ptinces afsisted, and in which, after having discufsed the fate of the empire, you gave yourself up to the infamous pleasures of debauchery.” Queen—“* All the state affairs were discufsed in council, and no where else. Ihave no knowledge of the rest of this afsertion.” Public Accuser—“ Are not Thouret, Barentin, and de Espremenil, the authors of the articles of the declaration of June 23.2” ; Queen—‘* The ministers in place alone composed the council at that time.” Fudge—* Did not your hufband communicate his designs to you, when he invested the hall of the representatives-of the people with troops ?” Queen—‘ My hufband reposed his confidence in me; he communicated to me the speech which he was to have made on that occhsion. He had in other respects, no bad intentions.” FJudge—* Why did troops of the line invest Paris and Werdanices ld Queen—* For the sake of general safety.” Judge— What use have you made of the immense sums which you have been entrusted with? Queen—* No endrmous sum has been entrusted to me; the accounts of my household will prove what use has been made of all I have re- ceived.” Fudge—* How did the family of the Polignacy who were so poor at first, grow so rich 2” b o hairokis That family held offices at court, which were very lucra« tive.” ' ‘Many other questions were afked, and answers given in the same re- collected manner, which our limits prevent us from particularising. The fo! owih» may fhow of what nature the evidence was that was hin “against her. ou sulon,ci-devant judge of the Revolutionary Tribunal—* All the facts bs dateal in the act of accusation are of such public notoriety, that it is unecefsary to spend time on them: If my fullest conviction can be of any weight, I will not hesitate to affirm, that I am fully persuaded that’ this woman is guilty of the greatest crimes; that the has always conspired ~ historical chronicle. xxi Against the liberty of the French people. The following is a circumstance ‘which I have to relate to you:—On the roth of August, I was present at the siege of the Chateau of the Thuilleries. I saw under the bed of Marie Antoinette full or empty bottles, from whichI concluded that fhe had her- “self distributed wine to the Swifs soldiers, that these wretches in their in toxication, might afsafsinate the people.” Roufsillon then declared, tha* his intention, and that of the other patriots, was, after having inflicted jus- tice on the Etat Major of the Swifs guards, to proceed to the Convention, ta sacrifice the royal family, who had taken refugethere. ‘ We met (ad- ded he) Brifsot and Guadet, who conjured us not to commit that political erime ; I say, political crime, for it can never surely be a crime in morals to ridthe earth of tyrants.” When the mock forms of justice were gone through, the Tribunal de« clared the widow Capet guilty of having Leen accefsary to and having co- operated in different maneuvres against the liberty of France ; of having entertained a correspondence with the enemies of the republic ; of having participated in a plot tending to kindle civil war in the interior of the re- publ ic, by arming citixens against each other. When the sentence was read to the queen, fhe cast down her eyes, and did not again lift them up. ‘‘ Have you- nothing to reply upon the deter- mination of the law? said the president to her. ‘ Nothing,” fhe replied. “ And you officious defenders ?”’ ‘* Our mifsion is fulfilled with respect te the widow Capet,” said they. Sentence of death was then pafsed upon her, and the next day, viz Wed- nesday 16th ult. fhe was guillotined, at half past 11 o’clock in the forenoon. The whole armed force in Paris was on foot from the place of justice te the place de la Revolution. The streets were lined by two very close rows of armed citizens. As soon as the ci-devant queen left the Conciergerie, to ascend the scaffold, the multitude which was afsembled in the courts and the streets, cried out brave, in the midst of plaudits. She had ona white loose drefs, and her hands were tied behind her back. She looked firmly round her or all sides. She was accompanied by the ci-devant Curate of St Landry, a constit utional priest, and on the acataled preserved her natural dignity of mind. When laid hold of by the executioner, fhe was observed to faintly smile, and submitted to her execution in the most pafsive manner: but at the moment, not a fhout or murmur was heard among the immense multitude ~ that surrounded. Three young persons who dipped their handhercheifs in her blood, were immediately arrested. Fronson de Coudray and Chaveau de la-Gards, the pleaders for Maric Antoinette, were, by order of the Committee of General Safety, put in ” > , ee ; Pam va Ce xxii historical chronicle pes state of arrest, before sentence was pronounced —The order $qys that this is a measure of general safety; that the arrest fhall last only 24 hours and that every attention fhall be paid to these prisoners. Some accounts state that the queen was acquitted by the Tribunal, but that a sanguifary mob seized, upon the unhappy qucen and murdered her ! We mere-y state this rumour, though we donot think it weil authenticated; but in fact, the execution of an_unjust sentence by reguiar forms is as re- pugnant to humanity as the most savage outrages of a lawlefs mob. , DoM, STIC The government of Britain have at icagth declared by the following man- ifesto, what are the objects they wih ultimately t. attain by the present wat. Perhaps had this been publifhed many months ago, and had it been accompanied by another to the same effect by the other allies, the effusion of much blood might have been prevented It is hoped it may not still be too late to be of some service. Briti/h manefisto. Whitehall Octuber.29. 1793- The following Declaration has been sent, by his majesty’s command, to the commanders of his majesty’s fleets and armies employed against ’ France, and to his majesty’s ministers residing at foreign courts. The circumstances, in consequence of which his majesty has found him- self engaged in a defensive war against France, are known already to all Europe. The objects which his majesty has proposed to himself from the commencement of the war are of equal notoriety. To repel an unprovoked aggrefsion, to contribute to the immediate defence of his allies, to obtain for them and for himself a just indemnification, and to provide, as far as circumstances will allow, for the future security of his own subjects, and efall the other nations of Europe ; these are the points for which hism:- jesty has felt it incumbent on him to employ all the means which he derives from the resources of his dominions, from the zeal and affection of his people, and from the unquestionable justice of his cause. But,it has become daily more and more evident how much the internal situation of France obstructs the conclusior of a solid and permanent treaty, which can alone fulfil bismrsjesty’s just and salutary views for the accom- plifiment of these important objects, and for restoring the general tranquil- lity of Europe. His majesty sees, therefore, with the utmost satisfaction, the prospect, which the present circumstances’ 2fford him, of accelerating the return of peace, by making to the well disposed part of the people of France, a more particular declaration of the principles which animate him, of the objects to which his views are directed, and of the conduct which it is his intention to persue. With respect to the present situation of affairs, the events of the war, the coafidence reposed in him by one of the most considerable cities of France, and, above all, the with which is manifested almest universally in that country, to fiud a refuge fron: the tyranny by which it is now overwhelmed, render this explanation on his majesty’s part a prefsing and indespensable duty: and his majesty !cels additional satisfac- tion in making such a declaratiin, from the hope ot finding, in the other powers engaged with him in the common cause, sentiments and views per- tectly comformable to his own. From the first period, when his most christian majesty Louis the xvr. had called his people around him, to join in concerting measures for their com- mon happineis, the king has uniformly fhewn by his conduct the sincerity ef his withes for the succefs of so difficult, but at the same time, so interes- ting an undertaking. His majesty was deeply afflicted with all the misfora ? historical chronicle. xxiil _fanes which ensued, but particularly when he perceived more and more evi~ dently that measures, the consequenves of which he could not disguise from himself, must finally com;el him to relinquifh the friendly and pacific system which he had adopted. | he moment at length arrived whtn his majesty saw that it was necefsary for him not only to defend his own rights and those of his allies, not only to repel the unjust aggrefsion which he had re- cently experienced, but that ail the dearest interests of his people imposed. upon him a duty still more important, that of exerting his efforts for the preservation of civil society itselt, as happily establithed among the nations of Europe. The designs which had been profefsed of reforming. the abuses of the go- vernment of France, of establifhing personai liberty and the rights of pro- perty on a solid foundation, of securing to an extensive and populous coun- try, the benefit of a wise legislation, and an equitable and mild administra- tion of its laws, all these salutary views have unfortunately vanifhed. Ia their place has succeeded a system destructive of all public order, maintain- ed by proscriptions, exiles, and confiscations without number, by arbitrary imprisonments, by matsacres, which cannot even be remembered without horror, and at length, by, the execrable murder of a just and beneficent so- vereign, and of the illustrious princefs, who, with an unfhaken frmnefs, has fhared all the misfottunes of her royal consort, his protracted sufferings, his cruel captivity, his ignominious death. The inhabitants of that unfor- tunate country, so long flattered by promises of happineis, renewed at the period of every fre, crimé, have fourid themselves plunged into an abyfs of uvexampled calamities; and neighbouring nations, instead of deriving a new security for the maintenance of general tranquillity from the establi- meut of a wise and moderate government, have been exposed to the repeat- ed attacks of a ferocious anarchy, the natural and necelsary enemy of all public order. They have hadto encounter acts of aggrefsion without pretest, open violations of all treaties, unprovoked dec!arations of war: in a word Whatever curruption, intrigue, or violence could effect, for the purpose so openly avowed of subverting all the institutions of society, and of extending over all the nations of Europe, that confusion which has produced the misery of France. 7 This state of things cannot exist in France without involving ail the sur- rounding powers in one common danger, without giving them the right, without imposing it upon them-as aduty, to stop the progrefs of an evil which exists"only by the succefsive violation of all law and all property, and which attacks the tundamental principies by which mankind is united in the bonds ot civil society.— His majesty by no means disputes the right of France to reform its laws. It never would have been his wifh to employ the influence of external force with. respect to the pasticular forms of go- vernment to be establifhed to an independent country. Neither has he now 7 that with, except in so far as such interference is become efsential to the - + SRS A ‘xxiv biftorical chronicle. — babes coe Security and repose of, dther powers. Under these circumstances, he de. mapds from France, and he demands with justice, the tefmination of a System of anarchy, which has no force but for the purpose of mischief, unable to discharge the primary duty of all government, to reprefs the dis- orders, or to punifh the crimes which are daily encreasing in the interior of the country, but dispasing arbitrarily of the property and blood of the in- habitants of France, im order to disturb the tranquillity of other nations, and to render all Europe the theatre of the same crimes and of the same misfortunes. The king demands toat some legitimate and stable govern- ment fhould be establifhed, founded on the acknowledg+d principles of uni- versal justice, and capable of maintaining with other powers the aceustom- ed velations of union and of peace. His majesty wifhes ardently to be ena- - bled to treat for the re-establifhmeut of general tranquillity with such a government, exercising a legal and permanent authority, animated with the with for general tranquillity, and polsefsiug power to enforce the observancé ofits engagements. The king would propose none other than equitable and moderate conditions, not such as the expences, the risques, and the sacrifi- ‘ces of the war might justify, but such as his majesty thinks himself under the indispensable necefsity of requiring with a view to these considerations, and still more to that of his own security, and of the future tranquillity of Europe. His majesty desires nothing more sincerely than thus to terminate a war which he in vain endeavoured to avoid, and all the calamities of which, as now experienced by France, are to be attributed only to the am- bition, the pérfidy, and the violence of those, whose crimes have involved their own country in misery, and disgraced all civilized nations. As his majesty has hitherto been compelled to carry om war against the people of France collectively, to treat as enemies all those who suffer their property and blood to be lavifhed in support of an unjnst agegrefsion, his ma~ jesty wonld see with infinite satisfaction the opportunity of making excep- tions in. favour of the well-disposed inhabitants of other parts of France, as he has already done with respect to thase of Toulon. The King promises, on his part, the suspension of hostilities, friendfhip and (as far as the the course of events will allow, of which the will of man cannot dispose) secu rity and protection to all those who, by declaring for a Monarchical Govern- ment, fhall fhake off the yoke of a sanguinary anarchy, of that anarchy which has broken all the most sacred bonds of ‘Society, difsolved all the re= Jations of civil life, violated every right; confounded every duty, which uses the name of liberty to exercise the most cruel tyranny, to annihilate all pro- perty, to seize on all pofsefsions, which founds its power on the pretended consent of the people, and itself carries fire and sword through extensive pruvinces, for having demanded their laws, their religion, and their lawful - Sovereicn. B th Nie It is then in order to deliver theniselves from this unheard of opprefsion, to put an end to a system of unparallelled crimes, and to restore at length tranquillity to France, and security to all Europe, that his Majesty invites the co-operation ‘of the people of France. It is for thes¢ objects that he calls upon them to join the standard of an hereditary Monarchy, not for the purpose of deciding, in this moment of disorder, calamity, and public dan- ger, on all the modifications of which this form of government may here- aiter be susceptible, but in order, to unite themselves once more under the empire of law, offporality, and of religion; and to secure at length to their own country, external peace, domestic tranquillity, a real and genuine li- betty, a wise, ’thoderate, and beneficent government, and the uninterrupted enjoyment of all the advantages which can cantzibute to the happinefs and prosperity of a great and powerful nation. ; Pi INDEX. Cart’s fhafts of iarch 88 | Apven TuRE,asingular one, 325] Character of George Stuart 103 Amadeis Johannes, letter to on City traveller on the best mode Epicurus 273| of carrying burdens 229 Anecdote of Dr Franklin 26—of Cives, a vision by 169 Mr Nolan 182 | Cloek vegetable, 246 Animals domestic, on the varie- Consumption of milk inLondon 39 ties of, 113,-153-232 | Correction 264. Animal! precreated between an Ai- to Correspondents,40-80-152-192-264. derney cow and a bufalo, note 239 Cottage Indian, a tale, 35-74-2108 Appeal humorous from the legs to 148-134 the head aoe 223 Cotton, account of Persian 217 Apprentices, particular grievances Cotton manufactures in Britain, of 262 Arcticus, on the White Sea fifhe- rigs 2g—-on the most striking and curieus phenomena in na~ tural history, 193—Account of Persian cotton communica- on the progrefs and extent of 270 Country houses, small wood for of larch ee 8 Delays in the court of sefsion, observations ony 58-96-262-281-315 Description of a singular plant ted by 237| from Botany Bay 227 Aristides’s observations on appren- Dialogue concerning youth 178- ” tices 262 2199251 Art of life in cultivation of habits Discoveries respecting caoutchouc 299, Dog, fhepherd’s, remarkable in- stances of its sagacity, note 116 Domestic animals, varieties of, &c. 165,-201 Artillery, improvements in 146,-284 Bacon, fragments by, artof lifer65-201 Baker’s oven, animproved one 145 thoughts on 1 13-153-232-why Banks in Scotland, progrefs of 33] of different colours accounted Barometers, vegetable 246] for ee ore Barrel staves of larch 175 Draining damp grounds with larch 92 Borax, whee found 22 | Durability of the larch tree ,ex- » Botany Bay—description of a sin- amples of gular plant from eae) || Dwelling houses of larch me Botany Bay, notices concerning 336 East Indiamen for 1794, 187 Botany, some curious remarks in 241] Education, observations on 335° Buffon, his theory respecting dogs Entomology, some curious ree controverted 121 marks on 195 Burdens, on the best mode of car- Epicurus, sketches of the portico ‘ ‘1 el 229] in the garden of 273 Businefs, inquiry into the cause of Fire wood, of larch 4 ’ the present stagnation in 203 | Fifheries on the White Sea, some : Caoutchouc, discoveries respect- account of 29 ing, 299—directions for ce, Fifhes, on the generation of certain menting pieces uf ditto 300| kinds in India “+ 373 Cardrofs, lord, memoirs ef, with Fifhes caught on trees 175 a portrait 1| Flooring, joisting &c. of larch 174 Card 40 ; VOL. XXii. > ~ xxvii Forest. trees, hints some Fragments by Bacon, art of life, respecting 201 Franklin Dr. anecdote of 26 Frazer of Lovat, letter from on salt laws, Galloway, memorial of the earl of, on salt duties 291,—addi- tion to ditte Generation of certain fifhes in India, thoughts on Gray the poet, a dialogue con- cerning youth, 178-219-251 Habits, on the cultivation of 165 Hand’s patent leather, notice of 299 Hay rakes of larch 90 Hedges, destructive tendency of, 12 Helianthus annuus or sun flow. er, on the uses of -Hen coops of larch History, natural, on the most striking phenomena in 193-241 Hop poles of larch 87 Horses wild in Siberia, notices of 98 Hints respecting some forest trees, 214 Improvements new 144 Improvement of the woollen manufacture in Britain, ob- _servations’ on 318 Improvement in the military art 146 Index indicatorius 79-104~-188-262- Za, 333 172 32 g2 index. 214] 165- ay” ae ) ‘ —hop poles, $7,—fhafts for. . carts 88,—small wood for country houses 89,—hay rakes g0,—sneads or handles for sythes 91,—small railing, ca-~ ges for poaltry, &c. 92 — underdraining damp ground 92,—draining peat mofses and extensive bogs 93, — making roads in swampy ground 94 fire wood ib.—-dwelling hous- es 172,— flooring, joisting, &c.174,—windows &c. ib. . machinery 17 5—barrel’staves, ib,—thip building 176 Latin language, encomium on 263 Learning, remarks on 335 Leather patent, notices of 299 Legerdemain, curious, respec- ting serpents Legs, their humorous appeal to the head 223 Lentulus on the delays in the court of sefsion 58-96-162-281- ee) Letter from Senex 16,—from Mr Frazer of Lovat on salt duties, 257,—from the king of Pruf- sia to Voltaire Literary intelligence 2a Literary olla No x 178-219-251 Lomoncfsoff, his oration on Pe- ter the Great 265 305 176 260 335 | London, consumption of milk in 39 India, notices concerning 336 | Lovat, letter from on salt laws 257 Indiamen for 1794. 187 | Machinery of larch 175 fndian cottage atale 35-74-108-148-| Malt kiln, notices of 144 184 Inquiry into the cause of the present stagnation of businefs 203 Inscription : 73 Inscription to the memory of Sir James M‘Donald, 190 Tnsects hostile to man 197 Intelligence from India 172 Ivan Czarowitz a tale, by. the emprefs of Rufsia 41-81-124 - Kiln tor drying malt, notices of 144 Knife found in the heart of a tree Larch tree, uses of 5,—garden’ walls, rails, and fences of 11, 247 Manufactures, cotton in Brita‘n, on the progrefs and extent of, 210 M ‘Donald, Sir J. to the memo- ry of Meynoirs of Henry lord Cardrofs with a portrait Memorandum by Dr Walker on the objects of natural his- wey 330 emorial of the earl of Gallo- way, on salt duties 291 addi+ tion to ditto 333 Military art, improvement in 146-2384 Milk, consumption of in London- 39 Money, ways of making 60 4 index. Nh xxvii Muscles found insolid’stones © 248] Frazer of Lovat ~ 257 Natural history, two curious Salt duties, memorial of the E. facts respecting 247] of Galloway, concefning 291 Natural histery,on the moststrik- addition to ditto _ ' 333 ing phenomena in 193-241 |Seeds, on the various ways of Nisbet John, onthe effects of ~ dispersing them 241—of pre- crofsing the breeds of fheep 1o#| servation 244 Wolan Mr, anecdote of rz | Senex, letter from 16 Nootka sound, notices concern- Se ‘pents, curious legerdemain re- ing 336] specting 176 Notices of wild horses in Siberia 98] Sesamum orientale, on the uses of 32 Notices of Toulon 112] Sefsion, court of, on the delays in 58,. Oration to the memory of Peter 96,-162,-281,-315 the Great by M. Lomonof- Sheep, effects of crofsing the dif- soff. 265,-305| ferent breeds of 10r Ovis Taurica, account of 47 |\Shecp, on the varieties of, rear- Pallas Dr his account of Rufsisn ed in Rufsia 47 fheep 47| Thoughts suggested by ditto 113,. Thoughts suggested by ditto 113,- 153,-232 153, 232|Shepherd’s dog, remarkable in- Persian cotton, account of 217| stances ofits sagacity,note 116 Peru, notices concerning 336) Shetland fheep, singular manage- Peter the Great, oration to the memory of, by Lomonofsoff 265,- ment of +: Ship building of larch ~ 176 395} Siberia, notices of wild horsesin 98 Phenomena, the most curious in Singular adventure 325 natural history 193,241 | Sketches of the portico in the Pholas, observations on 287} the garden of Epicurus 2 Plants, varieties of, observations Sketch of the life of Henry lord on 118] Cardrois, with a portrait It Poor domine, on various ways of Solitudes, 69,-Pmo making money 60) Squib 223 Progtefs and extent of the cotton Stagnation in businefs, an inquiry manufacture in Briatin - 270} into the cause of CmZDe Progrefs of the banks in Scotland 38) Stove, new improvement in 145 Prufsia, king of, letter from to Stranger, a vision from 169 Voltaire, 260) Stuart George, character of 103 Pumps for acids, directions for Sun flower, on the economical making 301] uses of 32 tothe Readetsofthe Bee 304,-336}]Sythes, handlesof, of larch gt Reading memorandums. 66,-102,-| Tales,—The Indian cottage 35,-74,_ 177,-322| »108,-148,-184. Ivan Czaro- Rider, an inscription from 73— witz, o¢ the rose without pric- on improvements in artillery 284] kles that stings not 41,-81,-124 Roads, making in swampy Toulon, slight notices of 132 ground of larch wood 94| Trees, Forest, hints respecting 214 Rose without prickles that Value and uses of the larch cree, stings not, a tale 41,-81,-124] observations on 5,-87,-172 Rufsian theep account of the va- Varieties of domestic animals, _sieties of 47| thoughts on , 113,-153,-232 Thoughts suggested by do. 133,-£53,-|. Vegetable clock and barometer 246 232) Vision 169 Rufsia Emprefs of, Ivan Czaro- Voltaire, fetter to frem the king =~ witza tale written by 41,-81,-124.! of Prufsia . 260 Salt laws, a letter op, from Mr pn, SAMMUT i 3 64 RXV index. ee the Walker Dr, memorandum by on \to a Lady with the Gentle Shepherd ray “natural history ’ 330 | Mao of feeling, tothe author of 324, Ways of making money 60| Mica, a version from Pindar by 215 White Sea fitheriés, some accountof 29 Modern France ? 106 Wincows, doors &c, of larch 174. Ode te Aurora, 289 Woollen manufacture, considera- | Orange, verses written on one 189 tions o» theimprovement of in« | Orphan f 28 Britvin 313 Pindar, version from 215 / Yellow gum plant, from Botany | Pleasure, false, a fragment * 138 Bay described, with a plate 227 Rowley, a poem by 67 Youth, a dialogue concerning 178- |Stanzas written in a haunted : 219-251 | room, , 183 POETRY. Thomson, verses by, tolord Lyt- leton 24. Aurora, ote to + 289 : , to the Author of the manof feeling 324 Thoughts on lines added by Mr Drn 25q! Hastings to Muckle’s Lusiad 249 F.jse pleasure x fragment, 138 | Verses written on an orange _ 189 Haitbrain’s additionto Mr Has- | Verses on dark, still, weather in ings’s li he Lusiad [isaanantek hey? 323 =: MF Hathtnas'e rs anaed te 749 Verses in the Scottith dialect 104. Muckien Busse 249 , Verses to a lady with the Gentle 1 Haunted room, stanzas writtenin 18 ia Pind 139 Hay field, a moral eclogue fapice LOM ET OUD SATA Ss 215 Bermit’s rennctods 107 | Virgil, translation from 172 Juliana, false pleasure a fragment, WNigiior 216 by; ' 138 'Way to grow rich 25@ END OF VOLUME , FIFTEENTH. DIRECTIONS IO THE BINDER. Pace Puace the portrait of Lord Cardrofs to face — — r The yellow gum plant from Botany Bay, —_ _ — 227 The plate of horns that accompanied No. iv. of this volume belongs to volume xvi. ’ Place the index after the chronicle at the end. Place the contents after the title. wy ——— Sao CONTENTS OF VOLUME | PIFTEENTH. Pace. | Sketch of the life of Henry lord Cardrofs with a portrait, - On the value and uses of the Letter from Senex, - = ~ 16 On Borax, = - - - = = 22 Anecdote of Dr Franklin - 26 Literary intelligence from Ruisia, 2« White sea ifihheries, ib | | On the hel anthus annuus or sunflower, -- - ~ 32 The sesamum orientale, = ib The Indian cottage, a tale trans- lated fromthe French, - 35 A view of the progrefs of the banks of Scotland, - ~ - 38 Pace | The Indian cottage, a tale, - 108 1 | Slight notices of Toulon, - 112 | Thoughtson what is called va- larch tree, - = - - = 5] rieties of domestie animals, suggested by reading Dr Pallas’s account of Rufsian fheep — — = 113. Ivan Czarowitz or the rose without prickles, concluded 124 On the value and uses of che larch tree, = = == 132 The solitudes, concluded, - 140 New improvements, - - 144 A new improvement in the art military, - - - - 146 Consumption of milk inLondon 39 | The Indian cottage, a tale, - 148 Acard, - » - - 40 | To correspondents; = = - ib | Ivan Czarowitz, or the rose without prickles that sting | not, ataley - - - = 41 Account of Rufsian thee the Tauric fheep, -~ - 47 Conclusion, - = = = 52 On delays incident to the court of sefsion, letter 11, =. 58 On various ways of making money, ag Reading Memorandums, - 66 The solitudes, - - = = 69 Aninscription, - = = = 72 ‘The Indian cottage, a tale, - 74 Index indicatorius, = = - 79 To correspondents, - - = 80 Ivan Czarowitz, or the rose without prickles, a tale, - 81 On the value and uses of the larch tree, - = ~ = = 87 On the delays incident to the court of sefsion letter 111, - 96 Notices of wild horses in Si- beria, - - - = = = 98 Some notices concerning fheep 101 Reading memorandums, - 102 Character of profefsorG. Stuart 103 Index indicatorivs, - - « 204] To correspondents, - = 152 Thoughts on what is called varieties of domestic ani- mals, suggested by reading Dr Pallas’s account of Rufsian theep. - - =. 153 Ondelays incident tothe court of sefsion, letteriv. - - 162 Fragments by Bacon,—art of life in cultivation of habits, 165 fntelligence from India, on the generation of fifhes, &cz + 172 Reading memorandums, = - 177 Literary olla, No,x. - - 178 Anecdote, = = -. « The «Indian cottage,a tale, concluded, - 2 = = 184 List of the East Indiamen for 1794. m+ Hh Pain ES Index indicatorius, =~ « IB To Correspondents, - 192 On the most striking and cu- rious phenomena in natu- ral bistory by Arcticus, - 193 Fragments by Lord Bacon,— Art of life concluded, = 204 An inquiry into the cause of the present stagnation of buses, = 2 a = « 203 A vision, = = a ~ 129 - - 183 - t contents. ‘ 3 d ‘On the progrefs and extent of | . caoutchouc, = = = © 299 the corton manufactures of To aders of the Bee, = 304- Britain, - - = = ~ 210°] Oration to the memory of Hints respecting somé forest | Peterthe Great,by Michael trees) - = See A amy | monofsoff, continued, - 305 Account of Persian cotton, - 217 | On delays incident to the Literary olla, No. x,—dia- court of sefsion; letter v1, 315 logue concerning youth,» 219 | On the improvement of the ms A squib, - + - ~ = = 223 | woolléfmanufacture, » 313 Description of a singular plant Reading Memorandums, - 322 from Boteny’ Bay, with a | A singular adventure, = ~- 325 plate - 227 | A memorandum given by Dr On the best mode of cartying Walker to a gentleman burdens 229 | . going to India, ~ - 330 Thoughts on shi is called | Addition to the memorial of varieties of domestic ani- _ the éarl of Galloway on mals, concluded - 232 the salt duties, - - = 333 Qn the most striking and cu- Index indicatorius, -_- = 335 rious phenomena in natural | To the Readers of the Bee - 336 history - ~ 241 | Historical Chronicle A vegetable clock, with two vegetable barometers - 246 Two curious facts respecting - ae POETRY. a natural history = (= 249 : bp ee et a ee f sag REO x.—dialogu: i] rhe ginny ‘easel iii ae concerning youth, - - 251 Letter from Mr Frazer of Lovat logue,, - = =.- «= = 67 False pleasure a fragment, - 133 _ respecting salt duties 257 : Copy wt Tae Sie the King tl pine dias with ee wn of Prufsiato Voltaire 260 : , - Index Indicatorius ss 262, oe from Pindar, - - 215 To correspondents s 264 € visitor, = = - = 216 Thoughts suggested by rea- ding lines added by Mr Has- tings to Muckie’s Lusiad, 249 TneDrum, - - = = - 250 | | Oration to the memory of Pe- { i : The way togrowrich, - = 1d | | 1 | | ter the Great, by Michael Lomonofsoff, - -- = 265 Sketches of the Portico in the Gardens .of Epicurus, 273 On delays incident to the Court of Sefsicn Letter v, 282 Oni improvements inartillery 284 Onthe pholades, = ~- -. 287 Memorial of the E. of Gal- + loway on salt duties, - 292 New discoveries respecting Qde to Aurora, > = = - 289 On the dark, still, dry, warm weather, occasionally hap- ing in winter, = - 323 Verses by Thomson, = = 324 To the puthor of the man of feeling, =~ 27 a ib tue LO. RK FOR ss: ————_ Sense MUS: (t Se ae Ss present pr erees