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INDEX 

to    THE    THIHD    VOLUME. 
MISCELLANY. 


APAdE 
DAMS's,  Hon.  J.  Q.  inaugu- 
ral oraition  »'.  -  288 
— — —  speech  concemiogforeigh 

inimsters  266 

AA»ma%  T.  B.  disquisition  on  the 

philosophy  of  the  ancients  50$ 

Aikin,  Dr.  on  the  style  of  174 

Ancient  library  of  Alexandria      5,  58 
Art  of  reading  S27 

Arts»  progress  of  the  2S5 

Aram,  Eugene,  triid  of  468 

American  travellers,  essay  on  628 

Ba}ie»  Saurin's  account  of  16 

Beauty  and  virtue  526 

Bentley,  Dr.  Richard,  life  of  238,  296, 
339,  409,  454,  521,  561,  623 
Beattie's,Dr.  genius  &  writings  570,619 
Ben  Jooson  and  Cowper  303 

Bishop  of  Aleria,  account  of  177 

Bbil^s,  Dr.  writings  236 

Bhie-Stocking  club,  account  of        579 
BbmsandBloomfield^psrattelof    127 

Goif»per,  writings  of  631 

Correspondence  53 

Got^per  and  BvtttxB  67 

Cowper  and  Thompson  17 

dassick  chib,  accOniit  <$f  578 

Cumberfauad  466 

Chymistry,  modem  46f 

Ddbition  of  man  417 

Decision  of  character  582 

Devotional  poetry  175 

Dedications  24 

Domestick  pleasures  526 

Bsnhdiilb,  Sir  John,  poetf^  of  631 

Edipse  of  the  sun,  1806,  account  of  32/ 
Education,  academick  18 

Enigmatical  epitaph  402 

Falls  of  Niagara^  accounts  of    13,  458 
'Falsie  wit  528 

Fawcett,  Joseph,  account  of  525 

Vol.  m.  A 


Female  education  129 

Friendship  of  women  80 

First  Basium  of  Secundus,  ez^act 

from  359 

Franklin,  Dr.  on  the  literary  char- 
acter of  661 
French  prejudice                               S77 
Family  physician,  Ko.  5  9 
Ko,  6                    171 

Grecian  Daughlier  41/ 

OoldsmHli  and  Johnson,  anecdotes  348 
Goldsmith's  writings  63 

Grid's  works  62 

Howard,*  Rev.  Dr.  character  of        115 
Hudibras,  imitation  of  129 

Human  nature  358 

Inscription  on  the  monument  of 

Sir  William  Phipps  246 

Jortini  Dr.  character  of  Idt 

Liberal  arts,  es^ys  on  300,  41  # 

Literature  of  North  Carolina  355 

Love  and  ohividry  65 

Lavater,  Dr.  Hunter's  account  of    369 
Lucretius,  criticism  on  ^    358 

Literary  and  philosophical  intelli- 
gence     55,  109,  164,  221,  377,  390, 
447,  502,  558,  613, 
Literature  in  Italy,  present  state 
of  177,  228 

Method,  esSay  on  120 

Marmontet,  memoirs  of  131 

Mansfield  and  Chatham  418 

Medici,  farailv  of  80" 

Misfortunes  of  an  ill-directed  pas- 
sion for  literature  76 
Monitory  poems  and  proverbs  of 

Solomon  303 

Modem  scholars  175 

Miscellaneous  essay  529 

Monthly  catalogue  of  new  publi-  ^ 

cations  in  U.  S.  54, 106, 161,217,264, 

331,  387,  444,  499,  554,  610,  669 


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n 


INDEX. 


Kature  in  winter 


63 


Original  lettew  from  Europe,  1, 61, 113, 
169,  235,  281,  337 
Ori^nal  letter  from  England  403 

Ossian  and  Homer  417 

Our  country,  characteristlcka  of      579 

Publick  lotteries  630 

Pamell  and  Voltaire  17, 416 

Petronius  Arbiter,  eccentricity  of  236 
Pope  and  Gray  304 

Port  Folio  176 

Pope,  anecdotes  of  15,  468,  527 

Plane  tree  ,         63 

Protestant  churches  in  Boston,  di- 
gest of  the  rights  of  632 

Remarker,  No.  V,  19— VI,  69— VII, 
124— VIII,  185— IX,  243— X,  285 
XI,  343— XII,  399— XIII,  473— 
XIV,  518— XV,  567— XVI,  617 

Racine's  Britannicus,  La  Harpe's 
critidsm  on  345, 395,  461,  513 

Rousseau,  character  of  190 

Ruins  of  Thebes  or  Luxor#  580 


Salt  and  sulphur  springs,  tcemmt  of  399 

SUra,      No.  11,  15—12,  62—13,  127— 

14,  175—15,  235—16,  302— 

17,  357—18,  416—19,  466— 

20,  525—21,  576—22,  627 

Swift,  style  of  64 

Southey,  extract  from  357 

Swans  527 

Schools  of  painting,  and  masters      44^ 

Shakespeare's  mulberry  tree  65 

Sans  Souci  24,  79,  360 

Statement  of  diseases        56, 112,  168, 

224,  266,  392, 448, 504,  560, 616, 6^2 


Tacitus,  thoughts  on 
Translators,  on 
Taste,  on 

Vaniere's  predam  rusticum 
Voltaire,  writings  of 


172,  405 
302 
417 

41S 
627,  418 


636 


Westminster  school,  account  of 
Whether  the  world  will  ever  re- 
lapse into  barbarism  4 
Winter  evening  580 
Warburton  and  Drayton                    64 


POETRV. 


Ad  Julium,  academiam  pro  Mer- 

catura  linquentum  532 

African,  the,  by  Bowles  306 

Baucis  and  Philemon,  by  Swil^  363 

Cantata,  by  Prior  248 

Cave,  the  249 

Death  and  Daphnt  193 

Deus  3p5 

Erin  643 

Experience,  or  folly  as  it  flies  477 

Epistle  to  Theophilus  Parsons  305 

■          to  a  young  friend  137 

">         by  Cowper  307 

— —  to  Dolly  534 

Epitaph,  by  Prior  250 

Epigram,  by  J.  M.  Bewail  136 

Eulogy  on  laughing  250 

Fowler,  the  591 

/uneral  Hymn  249 

Tleld  Flower,  lines  on  the  536 

^ave,tlie  647 


Helrellyn  644 

Hymp,  by  Bums  307 

Herb  Rosemary,  to  the  42S 

J^ickdaw,  the,  by  Cowper  365 

Know  yourself,  by  Dr.  Johnson  195 

Listening  to  a  cricket,  lines  on  |53S  ' 

Lines,  written  after  a  storm  at  sea  535  • 

toW.  Cjun.  587 

—  on  a  melancholy  event  419 

—  on  the  death  uf  a  young  lady  248 
Lyre,  lines  on  the  646 

Monody  to  the  memory  of  General 

Knox  642 
Madoc,  extracU  from            26,  81, 136 

New-Year's  Address  645 

Ocean,  589 

Pairing  time  anticipated  82 

Prosopopoeia  Umbrae  135 

Paatpral  532 

Procellarius  Pckgicus,  to  the  420 


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INDEX. 


ill 


Parallels 
Poverty,  lines  to 


IPS,  365,  420 
583 


Solomon's  song",  version  of  the  8th 
chapter  of  194 

Smith's  poem  to  the  memory  of 
Philips  361 

Spnngy  verses  on  193 

Sonsct,  verses  written  tf  196 


Song 

Snow-drop,  lines  on  th« 
Story  of  an  apparition 
Shipwreck,  the 

Xfi^  /rivoraror  Kirraygoc 
Winter 


196 

536 

81 

136 

246 

436 


REVIEW. 


AdAins*s  undcrstandinpc  reader        498 
Akenside's  pleasures  onm:ig"ination375 
American  Annals,  by  Rev.  Ahiel 
Holmes,  vol  1  257,  371 

Bentley's  sermon  at  the  ordination 
of  Rev.  J.  Richardson  656 

Jfiographical  memoirs  of  lord  Nel- 
son 652 

Bowen's  tliscoursc  on  the  death  of 
General  Gadaden  104 

Bowditch's  chart  of  Salem  harbour  490 

Caine's  New- York  term  reports      367 
Carr's  northern  summer  262 ' 

Gary's  address  to  the  Merrimack 

Humane  Society  551 

Cliamock's  memoirs  of  Nelson        652 
Cheselden's  anatomy  of  tiie  human 
^  b«ly  376 

Christian  Monitor,  No.  I.  215,  495 

— No.  II.  406 

No.  Ill,  657 

Chart  of  Salem  and  Marblehead 

harbour  4pQ 

Chandler's  life  of  president  Johnson  92 
CoIKections  of  Massachusetts  His- 
torical Society,  \t)l.  VI.  21,^ 
Cock's  inaugural  dissertation  l^is 
Comj^te  justice  of  tJie  peace  653 
CuDen's  first  lines  of  the  practice 
of  physick                                      X58 


Davies'  sketch  of  the  geography 

of  Nortii-Carolina  264 

Dearborn's  oration  444 

Democracy  unvieled  376 

DoVs  famili?r  Jotters  256 

Drayton's  view  of  South-CaroKna  205 

Dunlap's  dramalick  works,  vol.  I.  550 

Edgrworth's  LeonoR^  436 

f  IKcot's  jourc;*!  ^,^g 


Elements  of  general  knowledge      160 
Eliot's  sermon  at  tJie  ordination  of 

Rev.  H.  Edes  iqq 

Emci-son's  discourse  before  the  fe- 
male asyhim  loi 
Enchanted  lake  of  the  fiiiry  Mor. 

grana  488 

Facts  and  observations  relative  to 

the  pestilential  fever  260 

Fessendcn's  original  poems  369 

First  settlers  of  Virginia  98 

Fleetwood,  or  new  man  of  feeling  159 
Foscari,  or  the  Venetian  exile  603 

Grammar  of  the  French  tongue      497 

Hardie's  account  of  the  fever  in 

New- York  2 10 

Hopkins's  life  152  * 

Holmes's  American  annals,  vol.  I.  257, 

XT  ^^1 

Home,  a  poem  552 

f 
Inqnir}'  into  the  law  merchant  of 

the  United  States  308 

Inquiry  into  the  present  state  of 

the  Ui>jc)n  6.55 

Joumai  of  Andrew  Ellicot  538 

Kctt's  elements  of  general  knowl- 

edp  ^  160 

KemUjrs  artillery  election  sermon  377 


Lay  of  the  last  minstrel 

Latlirop's  discourse  at  Springfield 
on  opening  the  bridj- e 

— ; illustrations*  und  reflec- 
tions on  Saul's  consulllr.g  the 
witch  of  Endor 

Leonora,  by  miss  Edge  worth 

Letters  from  Europe,dunng  a  tour 
through  SwltaerUnd  and  Italy 


546 

101 


313 
436 


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IV 


IKDEX^ 


L^  and  campaigns  of  Gen.Moreau  314 
Life  of  Rev.  Dp.  Hopkins  152 

Life  of  president  Johnson  92 

Lyman's  sermon  before  the  con- 
vention of  ministers  496 

Map  of  the  United  SUtes  345 

Sf  6inoir8  of  Richard  Cumberland  597* 
Memoirs  of  American  academy  of 

arts  and  sciences,  vol.  I.  28,  83,  197 
Michauz's  travels  to  the  west  of 

the  Alleghany  mountains  37S 

Modem  Philosopher^  or  terrible 

tractoration  497 

New- York  term  reports,  by  dunes  367 
Kofthem  Summer,  by  Carr  269 

Original  poems,  by  T.G.  Fessenden  369 

Phocion  on  neutral  rights  494 

Pliiladelphia    medicid    museum, 

vols.  I.  and  II.  599 

Pleasures  of  imagination  375 

Porter's  sermon  at  the  ordiniition 

of  Rev.  e.  LoweU  103 

Rees*  new  cyclopsdia,  part  I.  423, 485 
Report  6f  the  trial  of  judge  Chase   31 

Savage's  poetical  works  215 

Satire  of  Jorenal,  new  tf  aasUtitft  592 
Sabbath,  a  poem  323 


Scott's  lay  pf  the  last  minstrel  54^ 
Shade  of  Plato  262, 

Shepard's  election  sermon  '    377 

Sherman  on  the  trinity  9I9 

Snowden's  history  of  North  and 

South  Caroliiia  157^ 

dtrangford's    translation    of   the 

poems  of  Camoens  216 

Sullivan's  lectures  on  the  constitu- 
tion and  laws  of  England  438 
Sullivan's  map  of  the  United  States  325 
Supplement  to  Johnson's  dictionary  105 
Swett's  military  address                  442 

Translation  of  Camoens'  poems  216 
Travels  in  Louisiana,  translated  by 

John  Dtfris  649 

Trial  of  the  journeymen  boot  and 

shoe  makers  of  Philadel|ihia        609 

Understanding  reader  498 

Underwood  on   the    diseases  of 

children  370 

Unguiology,  brief  sketch  of  499 

War  in  disguise^  or  fraud*  of  neu- 
tral flags  47 
Webster's  4th  jQly  oration              44t 
Williams's  reports  of  cases  in  the 

supreme  court  of  Massachusetts  13ff 
Wortman's  political  inquiry  544 

Wreath  for  th4  Rev.  Daniel  Dow    661 


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THE 


MONTHLY    ANTHOLOGY. 


JANUARY,  1806. 


FOR    THE    ANTHOLOGY, 

TIk  •riffDa)  Ictteil,  ^rhkk  we  bave  fre<iuefltly  had  tbe  pleasure  of  comifiunkating  to  the  ^ubHck, 
have  been  ia  general  written  In  dSffbrent  •ituattons,  and  on  desultory  lobject*.  The  fUUNHng  ia 
ttw  begioaiDg  of  a  ttgolar  aeriet  of  letters  by  a  geatleman»  who  has  all  the  ituallties  which  taste* 
taiencs,  fortnae,  aad  Hbcrallty  da  give,  to  make  him  a  pleasant  traveller. 


LETTERS  FROM  EUROPE. 


JVb.  1. 


befuirture  from  America, „9tonn9  in  the  ocean,.Junar  rainbovf,.,8treig/iU  qf 
Gibraltar. .Jsiand  ^  Sicily. „U*tica„JJ/uiri  isiande.,xoa9t  qf  St.  Etiferrda 
^jarrivai  at  MtfdeM.,.quQrQntine. 


Port  of  Nmples,  Feb.  180S. 

Yov  wiOy  my  dear  friendt  partici-* 
pace  the  satisfiiction  I  feel  in  dating 
my  letter  from  this  place.  The 
dangers  and  haitishil>s  to  which  ships 
are  exposed  in  a  winter  passage  a-^ 
cross  the  ocean  have  been  this  sea^ 
son  uncommonly  numerous.  From 
the  period  of  our  departure  till  our 
arrival  here,  we  have  been  devoted 
to  the  fbry  of  successive  terapestSt 
with  only  short  intervals  of  good 
weather.  We  were  told  upon  our 
mrnval  that  we  were  not  alone  in 
misfortune,  that  the  winter  had  been 
Tery  tempestuous}  and  that  the 
shores  of  Europe  wen  covered  with 
wrecks. 

When  IB  die  lathude  of  the  Wes- 
tern  Isteidsy  a  most  violent  storm 
assailed  us,  which  continued  during 
two  days  with  unabated  violence. 
It  cleared  away  in  the  evening,  and 
I  was  witness  to  an  appearance  I 
had  never  before  seen.  The  fidl 
moon  was  comddend>ly  elevated  a« 
lore  the  horizon,  mA  her  ra3rs  oc-* 
cafuoned  in  the  heavy  cloud  that  was 

Vol.  in.  No.  1.     A 


subsiding  a  nunbow,  which  contin- 
ued in  the  most  perfect  state  for  half 
an  hour.  The  arc  was  entire,  but 
the  colours  fainter  than  those  pro-* 
duced  by  the  sun.  The  agitation  of 
the  waves  gradually  dying  away,  the 
splendour  of  the  moon,  the  dense 
clouds  on  which  this  bow  appeared 
with  majestick  elegance,  altogether 
formed  a  scene,  the  sublimity  of 
which  afforded  me  consolation  for 
the  storm  which  was  past. 

The  thirtieth  day  of  our  passage 
We  saw  the  streights  of  Gibraltar, 
the  pillars  of  Hercules,  and  the  for- 
midable rock,  which,  since  its  fa- 
mous siege,  must  be  deemed  im^ 
pregnable.  A  favourable  wind  gave 
the  Vessel  a  rapid  passage  tlirougk 
the  stfeights.  On  one  side  of  us 
were  the  shores  of  Europe,  on  tlie 
other  those  of  Africa.  Civilization 
and  barbarity  are  here  within  sight 
of  each  other  :  Even  the  ap]>ear- 
ance  of  the  shores  was  expressive 
of  the  different  characters  of  the 
two  regions  ;  the  Spanish  coast 
presented  to  view  green  delds,  white 
buildings,  and  smiling  cultivation  ; 


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lettehs  from  eitroph:. 


that  of  Barbary  looked  dark  and 
gloomy.  , 

After  f^ettin^j  ttim'  th^  stielghts 
wc  saw  two  Swedish  fri'^ates  with  a 
convoy  of  forty  or  fifty  sail  of  their 
countrymen.  *rhe  tfind  was  a- 
gaiiist  them,  and  from  what  we  af- 
terwards experienced  nuist  have 
continued  adverse  to  them  for  sev- 
eral days,  during  which  they  could 
not  advance.  The  current,  through 
the  streights,  runs  constantly  two 
or  three  miles  an  hour  ;  merchant 
vessels  and  hea.vy  ships  of  war  nev- 
er attempt  to  pass  cmt  of  the  strelghts 
with  a  conti'ary  wind,  though  some- 
times they  have  been  known  to  ex- 
j)orie!)ce  a  delay  of  tv.o  months. 

The  eveninf<  of  the  duy  we  pas- 
sed the  strcights  the  sky  was  cover- 
ed with  flying  clouds,  the  night  was 
obscure,  and  we  were  sailing  with 
a  gentle  breeze,  while  fhe  Sea 
was  remarkably  brilliant  ;  every 
little  wave  that  broke  looked  like  a 
bank  of  snow  reflecting  the  rays  of 
the  sun,  while  the  passage  of  the 
vessel  throngh  the  sea  made  the 
water  all  around  her  so  luminous, 
that  I  could  see  to  read  as  clearly 
as  by  day.  This  sparkling  appear- 
ance of  the  waves  is  said  to  denote 
an  approaching  storm,  though  af- 
terwards we  experienced  ^c  or  sIm 
days  of  the  only  line  weather  we 
had  during  the  voyage.  During 
the  night  the  vessel  had  gone  fifty 
miles,  and  in  the  moiTiing,  when  I 
came  upon  deck,  the  coasts  of  Spain 
were  four  or  five  leagues  distant, 
and  those  of  Africa  still  more*  The 
nwuntains  of  Grenada  seemed  to  be 
on  the  edge  of  the  coast,  and  the 
shining  appearance  of  their  distant 
summits  recalled  to  mind  the  splen- 
did aerial  palaces  of  romance. 

After  three  days  we  passed  by 
Cape  Tarolaro  on  the  island  of  Sar- 
dinia, and  twenty-four  hours  after- 
wards saw  the  island  of  Sicily  and 


tlie  singular  fnntastick  forms  of  k» 
capes  and  promontories.  We  tried 
in  vain  to  get  into  "Palermo  ;  the 
wind  was  fair  to  go  to  Naples,  and 
the  captain  bore  away.  Soon  after 
We  passed"  the  ishmd^tyf  -  IJutJcn^ 
which  is  in  the  route  from  Palermo 
to  Naples,  a  vessel  appeantd  behind 
us  of  suspicious  aspect.  Like 
frightened  children  in  the  dark,  to 
whom'ev^ry  (Object  is  a  sprite,  ev- 
ery vessel  we  f;a\y  was  a  Tripoli  tan 
pirate,  and  the  sight'  of  breakers 
was  lesfk  terridck  thaa  tliat  of  a  sail. 
I'he  ship  ih  question  sailed  better 
than  oursches,  and  was  gaining  fast 
upon  trs.  Every  one  of  the  crew  was 
anticipating  the  horrours  of  slavery, 
>v  heii  a  violent  sqirdfl  came  Upon  u^ 
so  suddenly,that  for  several  minutes 
every  one  expected  to  we  the  masts 
carried  away,  even  after  the  vessel 
was  put  before  the  wiad;  After  an 
hour,  during  which  we  had  changed 
our  couFse  and  were  going  with 
great  rapidit)>  the  squall  cleared 
away,  and  we  saw  no  more  of  the 
.vessel  which  had  alarmed  us.  This 
propitious  squally  tho«gh  it  threat* 
ened  us  with  destruction^  was  wel- 
comed with  great  cordiality.  How 
barl)aroits  is  the  state  o£  hjunon  na-- 
•  ture  !  The  sight  of  a  veaael,  on  the 
dreary  e^tpanse  of  the  sea,  oi^lght  to 
be  an  object  of  the  most  pleasing 
sensations,  and  in  moments  of  dan^* 
ger,  alleviating  the  solitude  of  hor- 
rour,  shoidd  inspire  us  with  hope 
by  knowing  that  others  are  partici- 
pating the  same  danger  ;  yet  such 
a  sight  is  deprecated  more  than  the 
wildest  fury  of  the  elements^  and 
wc  greet  the  howling  tempest  that 
separates  us  from  each  other. 

The  next  day  we  were  in  the 
mouth  of  the  bay  of  Naples,  but 
the  weather  was  cloudy  and  the  land 
could  only  be  seen  paiiially.  The 
captain  thought  himself  to  the 
>iorthward.of  the  island  of  Ischia* 


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1.KT1  ERS   FXtOM   hCITOTl:. 


iHcyu^h  he  was  to  the  southward  of 
Oatpra  ;  and  instead  of  running  as 
he  tHooght  into  the  bay  of  Naples^ 
J:vc  'was  runninj^  down  the   gulf  of 
iialcTno.    A  storm  came  on  towards 
ni^tit  of  the   most  funous    kind, 
BQcli  as  tiic  sailors  call  v^hite  tquaUn^ 
The  flashes  of  lightning  were  ex- 
tremely vivid,  and  the  utmost. cxer- 
lions  were  uscil  to  clear  the    land; 
The   next  day   the    Lipaii  islands 
i^ere  in  sight,   and  the   vessel  was 
tossed  alx>ut  on  mountainous  waves. 
1  have  observed,  that  the  seas  arr 
much  a/torUr,  according  to  the   sai- 
lors' expression,  in  the   Mediterra- 
nean than  in  tlie  ocean  ;  and  the 
only  advantage  of  a  storm  in  .  tlie 
former  is,  that   tlie  swell   subsides 
sooner  after, the  storm  is  past,     Ijut 
it  is  a  treacherous  sea  to  navigate, 
and   fraught   witn   more  perils  to 
navig^ajion  than  th^  oc^an.     \^iolent 
squalls  often  arise  very   suddenly, 
and  I  was  convinced  that  the  mode 
of  rigging  vessels  in  the   fashion  of 
poleacres  is  well  calculated  for  this 
sea.     The)'  are  enabled  to  drop  their 
sails  all  at  once,  when  a  vessel  with  a 
mast  in  three  pieces  might  be  dis» 
masted  before  she  could  take  in  sail. 
At  night,  wh^n   the  vessel  was 
not   more  tlian  four  leagues   from 
Strombpli,  I  obsen-ed  it  burning, 
It  threw  out  flames  to  the  height 
apparently     of  twenty   feet  ;    this 
Mould  last  a  few  mindtes,  and  thus 
\t  continued  tlie  whole  night  at  in- 
tenals.     During  the  day  it  appear- 
ed smoking,  but  owing  to  the  dis- 
tance and  the  light  I  could  see  no 
flames.     Whilst  beating  off  this  iatr 
and,  and  trying  to  regain  the  bay  of 
Naples,  another  storm  droyc  us  up- 
on the  coast  of  Calabria.     I  ^q  not 
know  any  Juno  that  I  Jiav^  offend-, 
^d,  but  i^olus  did  not  torment  the. 
Trojan  hero  more  than  myself,  and 
very  often  I  thought  of  Virgira  an-, 
cient  description  of  tlie  stpi-m.    , 
\f:u  £iins<iae  Notusqu  ruunt  crcbcrquc  procellis. 


The  vessel  wsjs  at  one  time  v  atcr- 
loggtd,  tlie  sails  were  torn  to  pieces, 
the  foremast  sprung,  and  with  only  a 
close  •reefed  foix:  top  sail,  we  tried  to 
keep  off  the  shore  ;  no  one  had  any 
Jiopc  tliat  we  should  heal)leto  do  this 
long,  and  every  preparatifjn  was 
made  to  be  i-eady  to  save  ourselves 
when  the  vessel  stiaick,  which  thro' 
the  whole  night  was  constantly  ex- 
pected. When  day  light  came  the 
shore  was  still  a  league  distant. 
The  gale  had  moderated,  and  the 
swell  began  to  lessen  ;  we  were  now 
near  the  bay  of  St.Eufernia.  After 
five  or  six  days  beating  about,  we 
again  foimd  ourselves  opposite  the 
bay  of  Naples,  in  tlie  same  place 
wiicre  we  had  been  more  tliaji  a 
fortnight  before.  The  weather  was 
pleasant,  but  the  wind  determined 
to  vex  us  to  the  last  moment ;  and 
though  we  were  only  two  hours  sail 
from  the  port,  we  did  not  arrive  till 
the  next  day.  My  pleasure  on  arri- 
ving was  much  increased  by  con- 
templating the  l>eauties  of  tliis  bay, 
of  which  description  has  so  often 
attempted  in  vain  to  give  an  idea. 

The  second  day  of  this  month 
the  vessel  was  anchored  within  the 
mole.  Though  we  had  made  a 
A\ inter  passage  of  sixty  days,  from 
a  country  perfectly  healthy,  the  in- 
genuity of  the  health-ofhce  thought 
proper  to  impose  a  quarantine  of 
twenty  days  upon  the  vessel.  Be- 
irxg  now  in  a  place  of  safety,  after 
having  escaped  so  many  dangers,  I 
consider  this  as  tlie  last  vexation  of 
t^ie  voyage,  and  endeavour  to  sup- 
port it  patiently,  as  it  will  soon  ter- 
minate ;  though  I  have  so  long 
enjoyed  the  society  of  the  captain 
and  mate  that  I  begin  to  grow  tired 
of  it.  The  latter  asked  me  the  oth- 
er day,  witli  a  silly  hesitadng  grin, 
io  guess  how  much  money  he  had 
spent  since  our  arrival.  I  confess- 
ed my  inability  to  fix  any  sum.. 
«  Why  we  have  been  here  only  ten' 


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EXTRACT  TMH  AUTftyit  Bl^OWlf^^S  WORKS. 


days,  and  I  have  spent  almost  a 
dollar/^  . 

The  first  day  after  oair  arriral  ttq 
were  besieged  with  beggars  of  eve* 
ry  sort.  They  come  off  in  boats 
and  surroiind  the  vessel.  One  mo? 
inent  a  capuchin  would  extend  his 
cowl,  and  in  a  submissive  attitude 
ask  our  charity  ;  hardly  rid  of  him, 
before  a  l^and  of  musick  would  be 


under  the  stem,  tiU  something.  w«| 
obtained  ;  the  serenade  finishedf 
a  woman  with  three  pr  four  nuseraT 
ble  children  would  be  screaming  fom 
something.  These  scenes  a^  sa 
new  tq  an  American,  that  We  ahraye 
gave  them ;  and  in  consequence 
were  so  surrounded  wkh  suppli-: 
cants,  that  we  were  oUiged  at  last 
to  refuse  our  charity  ahc^eth^r. 


WHETIfi;!^  THE   WORLD   WILL   RV£R  RELAPSE  INTO  BARBARISSf. 


CFiom 

MY  own  opinion  always  has  been, 
f  hat  the  pi*esent  state  of  illumination 
and  re^nement  will  be  succeeded 
by  second  darkness  and  Cimmerian 
night,  equally  gloomy  with  the 
cloud  ndsed  by  the  crush  of  the 
iRoman  empire.  The  reply  of 
those  to  whom  the  idea  was  sug- 
gested uniformly  has  been,  tm/roBsi' 
ble  ;  the  art  elf  printing  renders 
9uch  fears  groundless.  I  answer  : 
the  art  of  printing  itself  may  be- 
come exclusively  tie  engine  of  wick- 
edness, of  vice,  of  folly,  of  irreli- 
gion.  li  the  mshion  or  madness  of 
the  times  should  produce  a  relish 
for  corriiptcd  food,  we  maybe  filled 
with  writings  to  satiety,  yet  swallo^f 
nothing  but  poison  ;  what  infinite 
mischief  has  the  press  produced  in 
our  own  days  I  In  France,  the  ve- 
hicle of  every  crime,  it  has  been  the 
easy  propagator  of  Slaspheipy,  pi 
massacre,  of  aivarchy^  Whether  it 
shall  finally  be  a  blessing  or  a  (urs^, 
must  depend  on  the  taste  pf  ttian-^ 
kind  ;  and  if  that  taste  be  vitiatedj 
and  feeds  uppn  venom,  the.  more 
it  consumes  the  sooner  will  we  per- 
ish. The  nress  without  morats 
wdll  not  preserve  crnli^tion  ;  and 
ijninoriiUty^  will  ijaake  it  the  vehicle 
of  barbarism..* 

What  do  ^Wi  common  people 
no^  read  ?...T^ew«pa^era ;  and  what 


Df.  Artlmr  Ifofrmifli  1 

do  newspapers  contain  ?...&lse  news, 
false  principles,  false  morals,  en- 
deavoured to  be  impmssed  on  the 
publickby  contending  parties,  with- 
out  the  least  regard  to  truth,  to  vir- 
tue, or  publick  utility  \  and  who 
are  the  compilers  of  these  vehicles 
of  instruction  (the  only  lessons 
learnt  by  the  vulgar)  ?  pften  the  low- 
est, jdXiA  vilest,  and  most  ignorant  of 
naankind.  Socrates^  PhtOy  and  Arit 
stotle  taught  the  Athenian  people. 
The  people  of  London  are  taught 
by  the  compilers  of  newspapers, 
the  engines  of  the  mob  or'  of  the 
court. 

That  the  common  pcpple  otight 
not  to  be  taught  to  read,  as  is  said 
by  some,  is  jXistly  thought  a  mon- 
strous position,  yet,  it  jnight  be  feii- 
dercd  true?  if  ail  they  read  tend  t^ 
mislead  and  to  darken  t^erri. 

boes  tKe  pre^s  improve  their 
civiltEation  ?  that  press  which  pours 
forth  every  day,  for  the  improvc- 
incnt  of.  our  yoiun^  men,  the  scenes 
pf  a  brothel,  niustrated  with  draw- 
ings ;  and  for  its  maidens j  the  dc^ 
iusioT^  of  a  novels  ^  the  evidence 
of  a  trial  ^bt;  ^dultery  T  Qucr)\ 
whether  ihe  pt^bricat^rif  ipf  mpraU- 
ty  aud  religion,  numerous  as  they 
ire,  coun^rvsdl  the  advantage, 
which  Satan  derives  bx^in  ttie  art 
of  printing  ?  ...... 


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AVCUCXT  XtBBAKT  61?   AtEXAKb|llJ|. 


Supipoae  a  Tiadon  stxyuld  take  h 
in  their  heads  to  condemn  all  old 
systems  and  all  old  hooks,  because 
they  cpoudii  oM  sfstefns  ;  su|>- 
poM:  thcj  should  uichide  the  Bible 
in  the  nuB^bcr  ;  suppose  they 
ahooid  prevent  the  reprinting  of 
aM  pdreacDt  IcamiDgr  tad  iosigt 
that  iKithiD^  should  be  published 
except  their  own  new-£ingkd  doc- 
trimai>  and  that  these  doctrines 
fended  to  unhinge  aU  civilized  so- 
fiety.  Reader,  are  ray  suspicions 
vild  ?  know  then,  if  you  know  it 
oot  akeady,  they  wore  rcoliaed  in 
our  own  day ;  they  were  realized  in 
France  within  these  five  years*  ; 
they  were  realized  by  the  tyrant 
Robespierre  ;  by  Robespierre 
worse  than  Omar,  for  Omar  act- 
^  not  from  enmity  to  learning, 
but  from  fricaKlship  to  Mahomc- 
tanism. 

U  has  employed  the  whole  vig- 
fiir  of  the  French  nation  to  return 
f  Tlcse  ikeubet  vac  piibUrtteft  to  I79t« 


Iwwn  their  phrenzy  to  commoii 
sense  ;  but  nations  will  not  always 
recover  from  theii*  phrcTisles,  and 
in  progress  of  time  my  fears  may 
be  realized.  France  in  its  \vild 
deliriums  has  astonished  tlit 
World  ;  they  may  be  outdpne  by 
some  more  outrageous  fcvei;, 
which  may  finally  end  in  the  ex- 
tmction  of  light  apd  Kfc.  JIuman 
nattire,  insolent  and  presuniing  in 
its  own  strength,  spurning  the 
aids  of  divine  revelation,  and  even 
of  ancient  learning,  may  relapse 
after  convulsions  into  lethargy, 
and  till  the  impos^bihty  of  such 
pvents  be  proved  by  some  hotter 
argument  than  thq  invention  of 
printing,!  shall  evipr,  from  data 
afforded  by  the  history  of  modern 
times,  believe  their  probability. 
The  age  of  pretendipd  self  suflli 
cient  reaspp  will  become  the  age 
of  absurdity  ;  irreHgion  will  sitbr 
vert  all  government,  and  anarchy 
lead  to  barbarism. 


FOR    THE   jl.YTHOLOGT. 


THE  immense  archives  of  an- 
cient leftrmng  in  the  famous  libra- 
ry  of  Alexandria,  sinc^  the  publi- 
cation of  the  Latin  versioij  of  the 
Dynasties  of  Abulpha? agius,  have 
i;enera}ly  been   supposed  to  have 
been  destroyed  by  the  inconside- 
rate, infuriate  zeal  of  the  M^orpr 
etan  Arabs,  on  their  invasbp  of 
Alexandria  imdpr  the  command  of 
Ofnar,  and  "  every  scholar,  with 
pious  indignadon,  has  deplored  the 
irreparable  shipwreck  of  the  learn- 
ing, the   arts,  and  the  genius  of 
antiqfiity/*      If  Hamlet,  In    the 
ravings  of  hb  imagination,  did  90 
(brcc  hb  tkoaghts  tp  his  own  con- 
ceit, as    to  reason    hiniself  into 
1  belief,  that  he  could  trace  the  nt^' 
akdwkof  Alexmader,  t^l  he  found 


h  stopping  a  byngholc ;  tb^  world* 
with  (nsufferaljle  credulity,  anil 
without  troubling  themselves  to 
reason  at  all,  have  traced  the  parch<i 
inents  of  the  Alexapdi^n  library 
tin  they  found  them  distributed  by 
the  comniand  of  a;i  ignorant  fana-^ 
tick  to  the  four  tbousand  baths  of 
the  city,  and,  8u<:h  being  their  in-i 
credible  number,  that  six  month's 
were  scarcely  sufficient  for  the 
con$umption  of  this  precious  fuel. 
Many  writers  in  different  parts  of 
Etirope  have  lately  denied  the  au-. 
thcnticity  of  the  factj  which  b  in-. 
deed  marvellous.  I^  \7M  M.  K. 
Reinhard  published  a  dbsertation 
in  the  German  language,  in  which 
he  tittetopts  to  prove,  that  the  IL* 
brary  was  demolbhed  long  before 


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ANCIENT   UBfiART   Of    ALEXANDRIA. 


the  year  640,  the  umc  when  Alcx^ 
^idria  was  taken  by  the  Saracens. 
Jn  the  Spectateur  du  Nord,  for 
September  1798, 1  find  an  article 
pn  this  celebrated  library,  written 
\iy  som^  one  who  signs  himself 
V***»*,  whom  I  presume  to  be 
Volney,  the  celebrated  traveller 
into  Egypt,  and  who  confessedly 
avails  himself  of  the  materials  of 
M.  K.  Reinhard.  Thinking  that 
it  might  afford  some  amusement 
to  tlie  readers  of  the  Anthology,  I 
have  made  a  translation  from  the 
French  and  ^pw  send  it  to  you  for 
publication. 

Whatever  was  the  ulteriour  des- 
tination of  the  Alexandrian  libra- 
ry, we  may  ask,  Have  the  learned 
world  much  reason  to  regret  its 
destruction  ?  Gjbbon,  in  his  his- 
tory of  tlie  decline  and  fall  of  the 
Roman  eippire,  [Amcr,  edit.  vol. 
6,  page  368]  seems  to  answer  the 
question  in  the  negative.  «  I  sin-p 
cerely  regret,  says  be,  th^  mor^ 
valuable  libraries  which  have  been 
involved  in  the  ruin  of  the  Roman 
empire  ;  but  when  I  seriously 
compute  the  lapse  of  ages,  the 
waste  of  ignorance,  and  the  calamr 
ilies  of  war,  our  treasures,  rather 
than  our  losses,  are  the  object  of 
my  surprise.  Many  curious  apd 
interesting  facts  arc  buried  in  ob- 
livion ;  the  three  great  historians 
of  Rome  have  been  transmitted 
to  our  hands  in  a  mutilated  stat^ 
and  wc  are  deprived  of  rpany 
pleasing  compositions  of  the  ly  rick|> 
iambick,  and  dramatick  poetry  ^f 
the  Greeks.  Yqt  we  should  grii^tt: 
fully  remember,  that  the  n^iscjian- 
ces  of  time  and  accident  have 
spared  the  classiqk  wprks  to 
which  the  suffrage  of  antiquity  hacj 
adjudged  the  first  place  of  genius 
•and  glory  :  the  teachers  of  ^{j- 
cV<^nt  knowledge,  whp  arc  still.  c:Sf 
taAt,  had  perused  and  compare4 


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AKCIBXT   LIBRARY  OF   ALEXANDRIA* 


Aie^andria.  It  is  very-  probable, 
that  the  houses  of  the  patriarchs 
and  the  churches  were  ?ery  full  of 
these  writings  J  and  if  they  afford- 
ed fuel  to  heat  the  baths>  we  are  of 


opinion,  with  Mr^  Gibbon,  that 
tlicy  were  ultimately  devoted  for 
the  benefit  of  mankind. 

Sampsickramus. 


I*     A  SHORT  History  of    tme    tiBRARt  of  alf.xanbria,  beforr 

THE   INVASION    OF   THE    SARACENS. 


Alexandria,  almost  at  the 
commencement  of  its  foundation 
by  the  conqueror  of  India,  became 
^uent  and  powerful,  and  its  pro- 
gress was  still  more  rapid  imder 
Kis  royal  successors.  It  was  divi- 
ded into  many  quarters,  which 
were  like  so  many  towns.  One 
of  these  quarters,  the  Bnichion, 
situated  on  the  banks  of  the  sea 
Dear  the  grand  harbour,  included 
all  the  edifices  attached  to  tlie 
ba^cum,  or  palace  of  the  king, 
the  great  college,  and  many  oth* 
ers.  The  first  pf  the  Ptolemies, 
Lagiis,  did  not  confine  his  efforts 
to  render  Alexandria  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  and  commercial 
dries,  he  wished  that  it  might  also 
become  the  focus  of  the  sciences 
and  philosophy.  In  conjunction 
with  Demetrius  of  Phalaris,  an 
Athenian  emigrant,  tlus  prince 
established  there  a  society  of  wise 
men,  similar  to  the  modem  French 
academies  and  institutes.  He 
built  for  their  accommodation  that 
celebrated  museum,  which  was  an 
additional  ornament  to  the  Bru- 
cluon  ;  there  was  placed  that 
ponderous  library,  which  Titus 
livy  styles,  degaiai^  rcgum  curte^ 
ptt  egregium  ofiuM* 

Pbiladelphus,  successor  of  La^* 
gus,  seeing  that  the  library  of  the 
Bnichion  contained  four  hundred 
thousand  volumes,  either  that  the 
place  could  not  contain  a.  greater 
number,  or  that  he  was  ambitious 
for  a  similar  monument  to  eternise 
lus  own  name,  founded  a  second  li- 


brary in  the  temple  of  Serapis,  cal- 
led the  Serapion,  situated  at  some 
distance  from  theBruchion,in  ano- 
ther quarter  of  the  city.  These 
two  libraries  were  for  a  long  time 
called  the  mother  and  daughter, 
Caesar,  during  his  war  in  Egypt, 
burnt  the  royal  fleet  in  the  great 
bay  of  Alexandria,  and  the  fire 
communicated  to  the  Bruchion  j 
the  mother  library  was  consumed, 
and  if  any  of  tiie  manuscripts  were 
rescued  from  the  flames,  they 
were  probably  deposited  in  that  of 
the  Serapion,  which  in  future  can 
be  the  only  subject  in  dispute. 
Evergetes,  and  the  other  Ptole- 
mies, successively  augmented  the 
library.  Cleopatra  •  there  deposit- 
ed two  hundred  thousand  manu- 
scripts  of  the  Pergamean  library, 
with  which  she  was  presented  by 
Mark  Antony. 

Let  us  now  follow  the  traces  of 
the  existence  of  the  library.  Au-' 
lus  Gellius  and  Ammianus  Mar- 
cellinus  seem  to  intimate,  that  the 
contents  of  the  Alexandrian  library 
were  burnt  by  the  fire  in  the  time 
of  Cxsar.  The  first  declares  in 
his  Noctes  Attica, "  that  the  num- 
ber of  the  books,  collected  iniEgypt 
ty  the  Ptolemies,  was  immense,, 
amounting  e\xn  to  seven  hundred 
thousand  volumes,  but  they  were  all 
burnt  in  the  war  which  Julius  Cx- 
sar  waged  with  the  inhabitants  of 
Alexandria,  not  with  premeditated 
design,  but  by  the  soldiers  who 
were  perhaps  auxiliaries."  [Lib. 
6.  Cap.  ir.] 


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AK<^Sl9t  U&&AliT  OV  Xt^SXAKBKIAi^ 


AmMalitm  MtfceUintid,  in  the 
39d  book  ahd  lOtk  kha^tt^  of  hii 
history,  says*  *<  The  Serajj^ion  con- 
taxMid  atv  inestimable  library  of 
seven  hutidred  thousand  voluirieSy 
collected  by  the  industry  of  the 
Ptoiemies  and  %Umt  duHn^  tHe  war 
of  Alexandria,  when  thalf  cxtf  wds 
destroyed  by  the  dictator  Casar." 

But  both  of  the  historians  hare 
erred  on  the  same  point.  Athtni- 
anus,  in  the  co\xrse  of  his  rctittal, 
evidently  ctJnfounds  the  Scrapion 
and  the  Bruchion.  It  Is  clearly 
provedithatCMsat  destroyed  some 
Dulldfngsof  the  latter  only,  and 
aot  the  whole  city. 

Suetonius,  in  his  life  of  Oo- 
:fti!tian,  relates  that  this  einpcrour 
:Jent  copyists  to  Alexandria  to 
t^^r^cribe  a  great  number  of  books, 
tirhleh  he  wanted  for  his  libraty. 
*t1ie  librarjr  must  then  have  exist- 
ed a  long  time  after  Cxsar.  Be^ 
iddedv  we  know  that  the  Set^pion 
waanot  destroyed  until  the  )'car 
ttf  our  Lord  3^1  by  the  orders  of 
Theodosius. 

Without  doubt  the  librai^  suf* 
Ifered  considerably  on  the  last  oc- 
casion. But  after  this  It  still  ex- 
ited, at  least  in  part ;  which  we 
tinnot  doubt  on  the  testimony  of 
Orosiusj  who,  twenty^four  years 
afterwardS)  travelled  into   Alex- 


andria, ai|d  who  ^cdai'es,  thmt  be 
saw  th^r^i  ht  tnuK^  teinplen^  camm 
JUicd  Vfiih  boklcM^  the  re&gnet  of  the 
ancient  tiOrarirs.     It  is  worthi^  <*^ 
Remark,  that  this  authof^  as  well  as 
Seneca  in  his  treatise  DeTranqull-* 
itattt  Animi,  relate,  that  the  mim^ 
ber  of  volumes  burnt  by  Cxsar 
amounted  to  four  hundred  thou-* 
sand  ;  and  as  it  apvpears  that  the 
tbtal  mifnber  of  the  books  wa6  (mt 
seven  hundred  thousand,  there  i^^- 
iTiaiiit,  wkh  what  tiie^  were  abfe 
to  save  from  tlie  library  m  the  Bru-i 
chion^  at  most  but  three  or  ft>ttr 
himdred  thousand  to  compose  t)ut 
one  in  the  Serapion. 

The  veracious  OrOshJs,  in  4^1  Sf 
h  the  last  witness  we  have,  whtt 
testifies  to  the  existence  of  the  Ua 
brary  at  Ale^iandria.  The  nume- 
rous christian  writers  of  the  ihh 
and  sixth  centuries,  wRo  have 
transmitted  to  us  thwiy  useless 
facts,  do  not  say  one  wo^d  on 
this  important  subject.  Wtf 
have  then  no  mofe  certain  d9C^ 
ments,  respecting  the  fate  of  the 
Kbrary,from  415  until  636,  Or,aC' 
cording  to  some,  not  until  54«, 
when  Alexandria  ^a«  taken  by  the 
Arabs....a  period  of  ignorance,  itf 
barbarism,  of  Wars,  of  conv^lsionsy 
and  of  fruitless  disputes  between  a 
hundred  different  sects. 


2.    or  TtiE  libraut  bur*t  bt  th*  sabacbks. 


About  the  year  6f  our  Saviour 
$40  the  troops  of  the  caliph  Omar, 
under  the  command  of  Amrou, 
took  Alexandria.  F6r  more  than 
ten  centui4es  no  person  m  fitmipe 
imercgted  himself  to  know  what 
became  of  this  celebrated  library. 
At  kstt  about  the  year  I66O9  a 
teamed  Oxonian,  fedwardPococke^ 
who  h^  collected  in  two  jourriei 
to  the  East  many  Afabiim  manu* 
scripts,  made  known  for  the  fSrst 


dme  to  the  learned  World,  in  a 
latin  translation,  the  oriental  hlflto* 
fy  of  the  physician  Abu^haraghtsy 
from  whom  we  make  the  following 
extract...^*  Attfiat  time  lived  among 
the  Ntusselitnen  John  of  Alexandtia, 
who  was  mailed  fh&  gnMmimarhn^ 
and  who  es]^used  tiie  caiiseof  tha 
jacobite  christians.  He  liquid  «van 
at  the  time  when  Altarou^'Ebnol'Aft 
took  Alekandria.  He  attached 
hiittself  to   the  c6n<i\ler6r ;  and 


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mt  ikiitLj  piftsieiAit. 


Atnrbu,  Who  knew  the  progress 
which  John  had  made  in  the  seien- 
tes,  treated  him  with  great  re- 
spect, listening  with  mlich  eager; 
ness  to  his  philosophick  discoiirs- 
es,  which  were  altogether  new  to 
the  Arabians.  Amrou  wa6  him- 
self a  man  of  much  judgment  and 
penetration.  Heretained  this  learn- 
ed man  constantly  near  him .  Johrl 
fcaid  to  him  one  day  :  Thou  hast 
visited  all  the  magazines  of  Alex- 
andria, and  hast  set  thy  seal  upoil 
every  thing  which  thou  hast  found 
there.  Of  all  that  can  serve  thee 
I  request  nothing  ;  but  thou  canst 
reasonably  leave  us,  what  will  be 
useless  to  thee.  What  is  it  thou 
wishest  ?  interrupted  Amrou.  The 
philosophical  books,  replied  John, 
f<rhich  are  foUnd  in  the  royal  pal- 
ace. I  can  dispose  of  nothing,  said 
Amrou,  without  permission  from 
the  chief  of  the  faithfhl,  Omar- 
Ebno'I-Chattab.  He  then  wrote 
to  Omar  what  John  had  requested 
of  him,  to  which  Omar  replied,... 
As  to  the  books  thou  mentionest, 
if  they  accord  with  the  book  of 
God,  there  is  without  them  in  that 
book  all  that  is  sufficient  ;  but  if 
there  be  any  thing  repugnant  to 
that  book,  we  have  no  need  of 
them  :  order  them  therefore  to 
be  all  destroyed.  Amrou  upon 
this  gave  orders,  that  they  should 
be  dispersed  through  the  baths  of 
Alexandria,  arid  burned  in  heating 
them.  After  this  manner,  in  the 
j^ace  of  six  months,  they  were  all 
consumed.    Hear  what  was  done 


and  wonder.** — When  ihii  recital 
was  made  known  in  Europe,  its 
authenticity  was  admitted  without 
contradiction.  It  there  acquired 
full  credit,  and  in  the  opinion  of 
the  vulgar  it  passed  for  certainty. 

After  Pococke  we  had  the 
l;nowledge  of  another  Arabian  his- 
torian, who  was  also  a  physician, 
and  who  gives  nearly  the  same 
recital.  His  name  is  Abdollatif, 
who  wrote  about  the  year  1 200, 
and  of  consequence  a  little  before 
Abulpharagius.  We  are  indebted 
for  the  publication  to  professoi* 
Paulus,  who  made  it  after  a  man- 
uscript in  the  Bodleian  libraiy. 
We  here  insert  the  passage  irt 
question.  "  I  have  seen  also  the 
Portico  which,  after  Aristotle  and 
nis  disciples,  became  the  acadcm- 
ick  college,  and  also  the/college 
which  Alexander  the  Great  built 
at  the  satne  time  with  the  city,  in 
which  was  contained  the  superb 
library  which  Amrou  bin-El-A$ 
t-endered  a  prey  to  the  flames  by 
the  orders  of  the  great  Omar,  to 
whom  God  be  merciful.? 

As  this  little  narrative  quadrates 
with  the  character  for  ferocity  and 
barbarism,  which  the  christian  his- 
torians, particularly  tliose  in  the 
times  of  the  crusades,  attributed  to 
the  Saracens,  no  person  for  a  long 
time  thought  proper  to  call  it  in 
question.  On  tlus  point  we  shaj^ 
undertake  to  justify  the  caliph 
Omar,  and  his  lieutenant  Amrou  ; 
not  from  love  of  the  Saracens,  but 
from  love  of  truth. 

CTo  be  continued.] 


For  the  Monthly  jinthology. 


THE  FAMII.Y  PHYSICIAN. 


Ao.  5. 


I  AM  a  sincere  believer  in  the 
usefulness  of  doctors  and  physick. 
I  believe  that  diseases  may  be 
mitigated,  and  diseases  may  be  a- 

VoLIILNo.  I.    B 


verted  in  many  instances  by  prop^ 
er  management  ;  and  that  the 
proper  management  will  more  pro- 
bably be  discovered  by  men  yf\\i 


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10 


THE  VAKILT   PHTtlCYAK. 


devote  their  whole  attention  to  this 
business,than  by  the  sick  and  their 
nei,^hbours. 

I  am  however  aware,  that  ve- 
ry sensible  men  are  heretkks 
on  this  subject.  They  say,  the 
doctors  theorize,  instead  of  observ- 
ing nature  modestly  and  careful- 
ly ;  and  that  their  physick  often 
irritates  and  sometimes  destroys 
the  patients,  who  would  otherwise 
throw  off  their  diseases  more  easi- 
ly and  more*  certain  1  y .  Now  there 
is  some  truth  in  this  charge,  and 
I  will  join  them  in  the  opinion^ 
that  my  brethren  are  too  prone  to 
theorize.  This  is  not  peculiar  to 
them  ;  it  belongs  to  mankind  gen-* 
erally,  and  arises  from  indolencfe' 
and  an  impatience  to  appear  wise. 
All  knowledge  must  be  acquired 
slowly  and  with  difficulty.  The 
labour  becomes  too  tedious^  and 
men  are  ready  to  guess  at  the  truth, 
rather  than  wait  its  slow  and  |)ain- 
ful  developcment.  This  happens 
every  day  in  common  affairs  ;  and 
as  the  injury ,which  results  from  it, 
is  not  very  great,  it  is  disregarded. 
The  error  deservedly  arrests  at- 
tention, when  the  subjects  are 
great  principles,  either  in  physicks- 
or  morals.  It  is  remarkable,  that 
men  form  an  attachment  to  the 
vagaries  of  their  own  minds,  which 
is  oftentimes  stronger,  and  excites 
more  zeal,  than  a  simple  con^^ction 
of  real  truth.  This  circumstance 
aggravates  very  much  the  evils 
arising  from  a  ftilse  theory*  In 
oiir  profession,  men  grow  as  warm 
in  the  support  of  their  peculiar 
tenets,  I  had  almost  ssdd  as  the 
theologians;  and  as  the  sectarian 
in  feligion  hopes,  that  all  will  be 
damned,  who  do  not  worship  with 
him,  so  the  father  of  a  medical 
hypothesis  is  %villing  to  rejoice  if 
all  die,  who  are  treated  according 
to  principles  differing  from  liis 
own.     They  both  pei'suade  them- 


selves, that  charity  and  a  love  ^f 
truth  govern  their  hearts. 

These  things  must  be  so,  while 
human  nature  remains  what  it  is. 
Toil  and  trouble  will  ever  be  shun- 
ned. Society  indeed  renders  them 
more  tolerable  by  the  compensa- 
tion it  gives  for  them  ;  and  as  this 
advances  in  real  improvement,  the 
compensation  will  increase,  and 
of  course  the  labour  will  mora 
readily  be  procured.  To  correct 
our  errors,  we  must  trace  them  to 
their  source.  This  consideration 
has  induced  me,  tp  present  the  pre- 
ceding and  the  following  obser-^ 
vations  on  the  causes,  which  lead 
the  faculty  into  the  habit  of  the- 
orizing. 

I  have  lightened  the  censure^ 
"ivhich  is  thrown  upon  us  by 
spreading  a  part  of  it  on  the  broad 
shoulders  of  /loor  human  nature  ^ 
I  mean  to  charge  the  remainder 
to  a  fault  of  our  patients  and  their 
friends. 

The  importance  and  essential 
duty  of  a  physician,  is  t«  advise  the* 
sick  what  to  do ; — to  direct  their 
whole  conduct.  As  the  sick 
should  never  call  a  physician,  un- 
less they  have  more  confidence  in 
his  knowledge  and  judgment 
than  in  their  own  ;  so  when  they 
have  received  his  advice,  they 
should  follow  it  implicitly.  If  in- 
deed it  is  so  opposite  to  their  own 
settled  opinions,  as  to  destroy  that 
confidence,  then  the  modve  for 
following  his  advice  must  cease  to- 
operate.  But  the  patient  and  his^ 
friends  are  seldom  sadsfied  with 
the  advice  alone  ;  they  want  to 
know  the*name  of  the  disease,  the 
nature  of  the  case,  and  the  reasons 
for  the  mode  of  treatment.  In 
Shon,  they  Watit  to  be  taught  in 
half  an  hour,  and  that  too  while 
they  are  under  the  influence  of 
strong  feelings,  what  it  may  havo 
cost    the   physician    months    tsi 


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THE  FAMILY   PHYSICIAN. 


n 


learn,  and  might  employ  him 
hours  to  detail  ;  at  a  moment  per- 
haps, when  the  circumstances  do 
not  permit  him,  to  make  up  his 
own  opinion  decidedly  ;— and  he 
m  too  apt  to  think  his  reputation 
requires,  that  he  should  attempt 
to  gratify  them.  They  ask  only 
for  simple  reasons  and  simple  ex- 
planations, not  wishing  to  look  in- 
to the  arcana  of  our  art.  Now  sim- 
ple reasons  and  simple  explana- 
mons  are  precisely  what  it  is  most 
difficult  to  give  them,  and  most 
difficult  for  them  to  comprehend. 
Accordingly,  to  save  his  credit,  the 
«Ioctor  dre6ses  up  for  them  an 
explanation  in  unmeaning  words, 
from  which  they  fancy  they  under- 
stand a  kind  of  something ;  and 
from  the  habit  of  talking  nonsense 
to  others,  and  finding  them  satis- 
fied with  it,  he  gets  to  value  it 
himself.  Here  ds  the  stumbling 
block  on  which  he  falls. 

I  itnow  very  well  how  much 
these  remarks  may  expose  the 
faculty  to  the  wits,  who,when  their 
•wn  bones  do  not  ache,  are  not 
apt  to  spare  us.  fiut  it  is  certain- 
ly true,  that  a  man  may  be  learned, 
and  well  versed  in  the  practice  of 
physick,  and  yet  may  not  be  ready 
to  answer,  to  the  ignorant,  the  in- 
quiries above  stated.  For  my  own 
part,  I  should  think  well  of  any 
young  man,  who  plainly  refused  to 
do  it. 

There  are  several  reasons  for 
all  this.  One  great  one  is,  that 
while  all  the  world  talk  of  tlie  im- 
portance and  advantages  of  ex- 
perience, few  people  understand 
the  nature  and  extent  of  experi- 
«nental  knowledge.  We  are  all 
acquainted  with  the  phenomena, 
which  depend  j^n  the  pdnciple  jof 
gravitation.  But  if  these  phe- 
nomena were  iv>t  so  constantly 
ol)vious,  as  to  render  them  fam- 
iliar j  if  they  were  known  only  to 


the  learned,  and  one,  discoursing 
on  the  subject,  were  to  state  that 
it  is  found  by  experiment  when- 
ever any  body,  specifically  heavier 
than  the  atmosphere,  is  thrown  in- 
to the  air  it  falls  to  the  ground ; 
and  that  the  acquaintance  with  this 
principle  might  enable  us  to  con- 
struct many  useful  machines  ;— ^ 
of  one,  so  discoursing,  many,  not 
only  of  the  vulgar,  but  of  the  bet- 
ter informed,  would  inquire  why 
this  thing  was  so ;  and  tliey  would 
hardly  value  the  philosopher's 
knowledge  of  this  law  of  nature* 
nor  be  willing  even  to  credit  it,  if 
he  could-not  talk  nonsense  to  them 
about  the  causes  of  attraction,  ^c. 
The  truth  is,  that  the  knowledge 
of  the  law,  or,  as  it  is  sometimes 
called,  the  general  fact,  is  all  that 
k  wanted ;  and  this  may  be  just 
as  usefully  applied,  as  if  we  could 
imderstand  how  such  a  property 
is  impressed  on  matter. 

Let  us  take  a  similar  case  in  a 
science,  with  which  a  physician 
should  be  particularly  conversant. 
The  doctor  is  asked,  what  is  the 
principle  of  life,  and  the  inquirer 
expects  to  hear  of  some  essence 
or  quintessence,  or  of  something 
like  an  electrick  fluid,  of  which 
the  experimentalist  may  exhibit 
at  least  a  fleeting  sight.  He  an- 
swers, that  he  knows  not  what  life 
is  ;  that  he  knows  only  the  laws 
of  life.  He  explains  by  stating, 
that  living,  vegetable,  and  animal 
bodies  are  endued  with  certaui 
properties  and  poivers,  which  are 
not  found  in  dead  matter  ;  that 
these  are  attributed  to  the  princi- 
ple of  life  5  and  that  if  they  are 
discovesi^d,  although  the  other  be 
unknown,  the  object  of  the  medir 
col  pliilosopher  is, obtained.  Now 
such  an  answer  is  not  satisfactory, 
even  to  men  of  understanding,  who 
are  not  conversant  with  natural 
philosophy  ;    {;nd   they    will   be 


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IHU  TAKIifY  >aTSIpXAir. 


much  better  pleased  with  a  pre- 
tender, who  gives  them  an  hy- 
pothesis about  some  humour  floatr 
ing  in  the  blood,  or  throup;h  the 
nerves,  which  is  the  essential  spi- 
rit, or  animating  principle  of  living 
beings.  The  truth  is,  that  men 
who  are  unacquainted  with  such 
subjects,  are  more  taken  with  that 
philosophy,  which  represents  the 
world  as  supported  on  the  shoul- 
der of  Atlas,  who  sits  on  an  ele- 
phant, who  rests  on  a  tortoise,  &c. 
Many  learned  seekers  after  knowl- 
edge commit  similar  errours. 

I  have  stated  one  reason,  which 
renders  it  difficult  for  physicians,  to 
answer  the  scientifick  questions  of 
their  patients.  Perhaps  I.  have 
enlarged  too  much  in  the  illustra- 
tion of  this  reason  ;  but  it  is  a  fav- 
ourite subject.  This  reason  is  foun- 
ded on  the  presumption,  that  the 
physician  is  perfectly  able  to  give  a 
satisfactory  answer  to  one,  qualified 
to  understand  it.  There  is  a  diffi- 
culty of  another  kind,  which  like- 
wise may  exist,  while  the  physician 
is  perfectly  competent  to  the  ne- 
cessary explanation  ;  and  it  is  one 
which  many  persons  feel,  while 
they  do  not  clearly  recognize  it. 

The  practice  of  physick  is  an 
art ;  and  the  precepts  of  this  art, 
as  of  every  other,  are  drawn 
from  the  principles,  not  of  one  sci- 
ence only,  but  of  many.  The 
point  of  art  in  any  operation  is,  if 
I  may  so  express  myself,  at  the 
intersection  of  the  rules  or  lines, 
which  are  afforded  by  tlie  different 
principles,  on  which  that  opera- 
tion is  founded.  But  as  circum- 
stances vary,  the  point  of  inter- 
section shifts,  and  so  the  conduct 
of  the  artist.  Many  principles 
then  require  to  J}c  stated  and  ex- 
plained with  precision,  to  account 


for  one  little  operation.  Th« 
blacksmith  is  continually  perform^ 
ing  mechanical  and  chemical 
operations,  and  these  are  various- 
ly combined.  No  one  would  un- 
dervalue his  handicraft,  because 
be  could  not  make  his  employer 
understand  in  five  minutes  all 
those  scientifick  principles,  on 
which  his  operations  depend.  He 
indeed  is  not  required  to  under- 
stand the  sciences  on  which  hi« 
art  is  founded,  while  the  physiciah 
is.  But  the  difficulty  is,  not  that 
the  artist  does  not  understand  the 
subject,  for  I  am  now  supposing 
that  he  does  ;  but  that  he  cannot 
make  another  comprehend  at  once 
the  combination  of  principles* 
with  which  principles  individually 
the  inquirer  is  unacquainted.  It 
is  like  talking  to  a  blind  man,  who 
knows  not  what  colours  are,  of  the 
effect  of  a  mixture  of  colours. 

Now  I  have  been  writing  a  page 
to  persuade  men  that  tliey  are 
blind,  so  far  as  respects  subjects 
which  they  have  not  investigated  ; 
and  I  may  add,  that,  in  many  in-  . 
stances,  no  common  minds  can 
suddenly  flash  light  enough  on 
such  subjects,  as  to  make  them 
rightly  impress  their  torpid  organs 
of  sight.  If  I  have  succeeded  to 
persuade  my  readers,  that  their 
neighbours  are  thus  blind,  it  is  ag 
much  as  I  have  a  right  to  expect. 
It  is  hard  to  persuade  a  man,  that 
he  himself  does  not  see  every 
thing,  which  is  put  before  his  eyes ; 
although  this  happens  every  day 
to  every  man,  both  in  the  physical 
and  moral  world. 

The  limits  of  a  periodical  pub* 
lication  require,  that  I  should  post# 
pone,  for  tlie  present,  the  further 
consideration  of  this  subject. 

C. 


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f  ALLt  OP  XiAGABAi 


xt 


FOR  THE   ANTHOLOGY. 


Tli£  following  is  a  descriptiofi  of  the  famota  £aUt  of  Niagara,  writtca  by  a  genlkman  of  thit  tfat^ 
wha  vi»Ued  them  a  fevr  montlis  lincc  i  and  althoi^h  it  is  not  given  as  any  thing  new,  yet  K 
may  acrve  to  remind  some  of  your  readers,  that  no  man  ever  repented  a  visit  to  that  mighty 
cataract,  and  may  induce  them  to  go  and  behold  the  greatest  natural  curiosity  of  which  theif 
country  can  boost.  T. 

JOURNAL. 


Cbi/ifinvay^  Sefit.  4,    1805. 

After  a  hearty  breakfast  we  set 
off  (a  party  of  four)  provided  with  a 
guide  and  a  bottle  of  wiue^  to  fol- 
low tlie  footsteps  of  Volney  and 
Weld  to  the  falls  of  Niagara,  dis^ 
tant  about  two  ipiies.  The  day 
was  fine,  with  scarcely  a  breeze  to 
interrupt  the  smooth  expanse  of 
the  river  before  us.  The  distant 
noise  of  the  cataract  was  much  be- 
neath our  expectations,  and  all  we 
saw  of  the  fails,  for  half  a  mile,  was 
the  cloud  of  spray,  which  rose  a* 
bove  them.  This  foretold  some 
g^at  cause. 

Proceeding  onwards,  we  come 
to  a  view  of  the  rapids,  which  for 
half  a  ndle  above  the  main  pitch 
throw  the  immense  waters  into 
great  turbulence  and  foam.  As 
we  proceed,  the  banks  of  the  river 
gradually  become  from  five  to  fif- 
ty feet  aixjve  the  level  of  the  river. 
Coming  to  a  house  on  the  bank  of 
the  river  opposite  the  falls,  we  leave 
the  road,  aiid  descend  by  an  ex- 
ceedingly steep  path  to  a  rich  plain 
below  ;  now  entering  a  thick  wood 
and  shrubbery,  very  wet  and  mud- 
dy, we  pick  our  way  to  Table  rock, 
the  projecting  point,  where  stran- 
gers are  first  carried. 

Here  we  gaze  at  the  mighty 
sight  of  an  immense  river,  precipe 
itatimg  itself  one  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  perpendicularly  into  an  abyss, 
the  bottom  of  which  (owing  to  the 
•pray)  cannot  be  seen. 

Our  guide,  leaving  one  of  the 
party  on  Table  rock,  conducted  us 
a  imall  distau(^e  down>  which  gave 


us,  as  it  were,  a  profile  view  of  the 
rock,  on  which  our  companion 
stood.  We  were  terrified  and  as- 
tonished ;  we  beheld  a  flat  rock^ 
not  more  than  two  feet  thick,  and 
of  itself  projecting  ten  feet,  and  the 
rock  rinder  it  hollowing  into  cav« 
ems  to  the  water,  as  appeared  to 
us  fifty  or  sixty  feet  more  ;  we 
saw  oiu*  companion,  standing  al* 
most  in  air,  over  the  dreadful 
crags  below,  ready,  it  would 
seem,  with  the  rocks  themselves 
to  fsdl  1  Every  one  involuntarily 
cried  out  to  him  to  retire,  while 
the  guide,  smiling  at  our  unneces* 
sary  fears,  conducts  us  back  to  the 
further  bank  we  had  descended^ 
where  we  stopped  awhile  to  reno- 
vate our  moral  and  physical 
strength. 

Our  next  object  is  to  descend 
Simcoe's  ladder,before  we  arrive  at 
the  top  of  which,  we  have  to  pass 
down  the  steep  bank,  as  before,  and 
go  over  a  plain  nearly  the  same  as 
in  the  path  to  Table  rock. 

We  followed  the  guide  by  the 
ladder,  leading  down  a  rude  preci- 
pice, which  is  continued  along  for 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  the  falls,  and 
is  now  the  real  bank  of  the  river. 
Arrived  at  the  bottom  of  this  long 
ladder,  we  got  dovm  as  well  as  we 
could,  a  height  of  about  fifty  feet 
further,  descending  over  mounds 
of  earth,  bushes,  and  pieces  of  rock, 
tumbled  together  from  the  preci- 
pice above. 

We  are  now  nearly  on  a  level 
with  the  river  below  the  falls, 
which  are  a  quarter  of  a  mile  dis<« 


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H 


FALLS  OF  ^flAGARA. 


tant,  and- the  way  to  them  exceed- 
ingly rough  ;  but,  excepting  one 
pass)  not  dangerous.  This,  I  am 
oonidenty  rery  few  would  attempt 
in  any  other  place  than  this  ;  but 
the  scenes  around  are  so  grand,  as 
to  inspire  every  one  with  courage. 

When  we  had  come  within  five 
hundred  feet  of  the  falls,  we  stop- 
ped to  survey  the  objects  around 
us,  which  are  in  the  highest  de- 
gree grand  and  terrifick.  Above 
ws  hung  a  precipice,  an  hundred 
and  twenty' or  thirty  feet  high,  full 
of  loose  stones,  which  are  daily 
falling,  and  the  fioasibiHtyj  that  one 
may  fall  upon  you  in  passing,  in- 
spires the  mind  with  no  inconsid- 
erable degree  of  alarm.  Turning 
our  backs  to  the  precipice,  we  see 
before  us  (on  the  opposite  side* of 
the  river,  placed  on  a  perpendicu- 
lar rock  as  high  as  the  falls)  Goat 
bland,  dividing  the  falls  into  two 
great  sheets,  four  or  five  hundred 
feet  apart.  The  farthest  are  call- 
led  Little  falls,  and  the  other 
Horse-shoe  foils.  The  former  is 
j:alled  little,  only  in  comparison 
with  the  Horse-shoe  falls ;  and  not 
being  so  easy  of  access,  and  dis- 
charging less  water,  is  seldom  vis- 
ited by  strangers.  Then  looking, 
as  our  way  leads,  we  see  the  main 
fall,  tumbling  its  prodigious  waters 
into  the  bed  of  the  lower  river,  and 
running  ofF,wiWly  foaming  beneath 
a  cloud  of  spray  in  one  general  roar 
and  confusioDiiPagnificei^t  beyond 
description. 

We  now  proceeded,  the  spray 
wetting  us  more  and  more  as  we 
advanced,  and  the  rocks  becomit>g 
piore  slippery,  but  not  dangerous. 
Jkfore  we  arrived  at  the  caverns, 
about  one  hundred  feet  from  the 
falling  water,  where  we  took  our 
stand,  we  were  completely  drench^ 
^d  by  the  violent  beating  of  the 
^pray  against  us,  which,  driven  on 
by  the  forjous  rushing  wind,  tliat 


issues  out  of  the  horrid  cavertiv 
under  the  falls,  sometimes  hid  us 
from  a  sight  of  the  falling  waters 
and  even  from  each  other. 

Having  halted,  Mr.  B—  first 
cautiously  proceeded  to  get  under 
the  pitch,  and,  returning  after  a 
few  moments,  thinks  he  went  a- 
bout  twenty  feet  under,  but  was 
hid  nearly  the  whole  time  from  us 
by  the  spray. 

I  was  the  next  to  attempt,  a- 
midst  the  mighty  terrours  around, 
a  survey  of  these  caverns,  horrible 
as  death,  and  where  he  alone 
seemed  to  hold  empire.  Facing* 
the  whirlwind,  and  necessarily 
disregarding  the  pelting  spray,  I 
crept  as  fast  as  the  slippery  crags 
would  admit,  without  once  stop- 
ping to  tlank  of  danger.  I  went, 
as  well  as  I  could  judge,  fifteen  or 
twenty  feet  under,  or  beyond  the 
outer  edge  of  the  sheet.  I  durst 
venture  no  farther,  but,  reclining 
in  a  posture  between  sitting  and 
laying,  I  first  seized  a  small  stone 
to  bring  away  with  me,  an  eternal 
remembrance  of  the  place  I  took 
it  fi*om.  This  done,  I  paused  for 
a  few  moments. 

.....To  attempt  to  describe  my 
feelings,  or  to  particularise  each 
howling  horrour  around  me,  were 
vain'.  It  is  not  the  thousand  rivt 
crs  of  water,  that  tumble  from 
above... nor  the  piled-up  precipice 
of  slippery  crags,  on  the  top  of 
which  you  lay. ..nor  the  furious 
whirhvind,drivinglike  shot  thespray 
against  you,  threatening  at  each 
gust  to  throw  you  into  the  merr 
oiless  jaws  of  death  below...nor  the 
thundering  roar  of  the  cataract... not 
all  these,  that  bring  each  its  par- 
ticular terrour  ;  but  the  whole  of 
them  together,  striking  the  mind 
at  once,  appal  the  senses,  and  the 
weakened  judgment  gives  way  to 
the  idea,  that  the  rock  above,  which 
of    itjrif    supports    the    mighty 


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tiLVif. 


u 


tdiole,  hjLS  Ibosened  from  its  foun- 
dations and  actually  started  to 
crush  the  whole  below  ! 

— I   escaped    before    it     fell... 
uxm  found  my  companions,  and 


looking  up,  sa^,  half  Surprisedy 
the  hoary  rock  still  firm  oi*.  it* 
foundations,  amidst  this  seeming 
crush  of  worlds. 


I'OR  THE  ANTHOLOGY. 
SILVA. 

Sava  s^rit  fi^oodes.-OYID. 


Mh.  11 


POPE. 

^oti:  was  fond  of  imitating  the 
indents,  though  what  he  borrow- 
ed he  improved,  and  his  own 
thoughts  were  not  inferiour  to 
theirs.  Some  very  beautiful  lines, 
in  his  Elegy  to  the  memory  of  an 
unfortunate  young  lady,  he  seems 
to  have  imitated  from  Ovid  ;  and 
I  am  surprized  that  Dr.  Warton, 
in  his  excellent  edition  of  Pope's 
works,  has  not  remarked  the  re- 
semblance. I  shall  quote  both  the 
English  and  Latin,  that  the  read-> 
er  may  judge  for  himself. 

Wlul  caa  atone,  oh  !  ever- injured  shad^, 
Thy  Uix.  unpkkd,  and  thy  ritc«  unpaid  \ 
Bo  fiiead'i  com^aint,  no  lund  domestkk  tear 
neaed  thy  pale  ghott,  or  graced  thy  moumfo^ 

bier. 
By  ibrdgn  hands  tby  dying  eyei  were  closed. 
By  far^  hands  thy  decent  limbs  composed^ 
By  ferdgn  hands  thy  hamble  grave  adorned. 
By  ttrugen  hoaoared,  and  by  strangen  mourned^ 

Though  these  are  exquisite 
lines,  (for  no  man,  says  Hume,  can 
write  verses  with  equal  spirit  and 
elegance  to  Mr.  Pope)  yet  the 
following  passage  of  Ovid  unques- 
tionably supplied  the  materials. 

^  eeo  otc  lachryiiiafl  matris  morltura  videbtf, 

Bcc,  nea  qid  digltb  himina  condat,  crit. 
•fWtus  infcBx  peregrinas  ibll  in  auras, 
Kcc  posttot  artus  unget  arnica  manus, 
^npenubUDt  vokiercsbihumata  marinje. 

OTid*s  Epistles.  Ariadne  to 
Theseus.  lin.  119. 

It  has  been  the  fashioUi  of  late 
years,  to  depreciate  the  poetical 
*>em  of  Pope,  and  to  exalt,  in 


strains  of  lavish  encomium,  th^ 
mushroom  poetasters  of  the  day. 
A  writer,  who  with  tlie  rapidity  of 
a  Blackmore,  shall  finish  an  epick 
in  six  weeks,  attracts  the  admira-* 
tion  of  many,  who  consider  celeri- 
ty in  writing  as  a  proof  of  extraor- 
dinary genius.  The  reverse  of 
this  however  is  true;  and  the 
greatest  master-pieces  of  writings 
far  from  being  dashed  off  at  a  hit, 
have  consumed  a  very  considerable 
portion  of  time  in  their  composition^ 
Perfection  is  the  ro^ard  of  great 
labour,  united  with  great  genius. 
The  co-operation  of  both  can  alone 
ensure  success.  Without  genius, 
labour  would  be  dull  and  insipid  i 
without  labour,  genius  would  be 
absurd  and  extravagant.  Had  the 
AlCander  of  Pope,  an  epick  poem 
which  he  wrote  at  sixteen,  beeit 
preserved,  he  would  probably  have 
bego  deemed  a  great  poet  by  those, 
who  now  dispute  his  claims  to  that 
character.  These  genUcmen  re-« 
quire  originality,  at  the  expense  of 
whatever  absurdity.  They  prefer 
the  wilderness  to  the  garden, 
thofugh  the  latter  may  possess  all 
the  beauties  of  nature,  without  her 
deformities.  But  true  taste  ad-^ 
mires  nature  only  in  her  charms, 
not  in  the  gross.  Neither  poet 
nor  painter  would  describe  a 
quagmire,  nor  expose  to  view^ 
those  parts  of  the  person,  which 
decency  clothes.  Yet  nature  ha» 
claims  as  equal  to  what  is  conceal- 
ed, as  to  what  is  exiubited. 


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byCoogk 


i^ 


SlLtA. 


•  True  wit  ti  nattte  to  admitAge  drett/ 

tkot^  ragged  gypsy,  nor  a  tawdry 
Btrumpet.  High,  raasteriy  execu- 
tion is  what  constitutes  a  preemi« 
nent  writer.  He  exhibits  the  best 
thoughts,  exprest  in  the  best  man* 
ner.  When  he  borrows,  he  im- 
proves ;  what  he  imitates,  he  ex- 
cels. He  commands  a  certain  fe- 
licity of  style,  which,  though  sim- 
ple, is  highly  figurative,  which 
convinces  by  its  energy,  and 
charms  by  its  beauty.  Of  all  the 
ancient  poets  Pope  most  resembles 
Virgil.  He  has  the  same  correct- 
ness, the  same  majesty  of  num- 
bers, allowing  for  the  inferiority 
of  a  modem  language.  There  is 
•carcely  a  page  of  Virgil,  his 
Georgics  excepted,  in  which  We 
cannot  trace  him  imitating  or 
translating  whole  passages  from 
other  writers,  so  that  he  has  fewer 
pretensions  to  originality,  than  al- 
imost  any  poet  ancient  or  modern. 
And  yet  what  ancient  author  is  so 
universally  read,  or  affords  so 
much  pleasure,  Horace  perhaps 
excepted  ?  Pope  has  more  origi- 
nality than  Virgil,  but  less  than 
Dry  den.  Yet  who  reads  more  of 
Dryden  than  a  single  satire  and  a 
single  ode  ?  Pope  is  the  poet  of 
the  human  species,  the  favourite 
of  all  ages,  the  oracle  of  all  pro- 
fessions. Originality  I  Fiddledy 
diddledy. 

BAYLB. 

Batle  was  a  great  and  original 
genius.  I  believe,  that  it  is  not 
generally  known,  that  his  charac- 
ter is  admirably  drawn  by  Saurin^ 
which  I  doubt  not  will  be  more 
acceptable  to  many  readers  of  tlie 
Silva,  than  any  original  remarks  of 
the  present  writer.  *  He  was  one 
of  those  extraordinary  men  (says 
that  eloquent  preacher)  whom  the 
greatest  wit  cannot  recobcile  with 
l|jimself^  and  whose  opposite  quali- 


ties leave  us  toom  to  doubt,  wheth- 
er we  ought  to  look  upon  him  as 
the  best,  or  as  the  worst  of  met). 
Oh  the  one  hand,  he  was  a  great 
philosopher,  who  knew  how  to 
distinguish  truth  from  falsehood, 
who  could  at  one  view  perceive  all 
the  consequences  of  a  principle, 
and  discover  how  they  are  linked 
together.  On  the  other  hand,  he 
was  a  gtedt  sophist,  who  under- 
took to  confound  truth  witli  false- 
hood, and  knew  how  to  draw  false 
inferences  from  the  piincipled  he 
supported.  On  the  one  hand^  a 
man  of  learning  and  knowledge^ 
who  had  read  all  that  can  be  rcadi 
and  remembered  all  that  can  be 
remembered.  On  the  other  hand^ 
ignorant,  or  at  least  feigning  to  be 
so,  with  regard  to  the  most  com- 
mon things  ;  proposing  such  diffi* 
culties,  as  had  been  a  thousand 
times  answered,  and  urging  objcc* 
tionsj  which  a  schoolboy  could  not 
make  without  blushing.  On  the 
one  hand,  attacking  the  most  emi- 
nent meh,  opening  a  large  field 
for  their  labours,  leadinjg  them 
through  the  most  difficult  roadsf 
and,  if  he  did  not  vanquish  them, 
giving  them  at  least  a  great  deal  of 
trouble  to  vanquish  him.  On  the 
other  hand,  a  man  who  made  useJ 
of  the  worst  of  authors,  to  whom 
he  was  lavish  of  his  praises  ;  and 
who  disgraced  his  writings  by 
quoting  such  names  as  a  learned 
mouth  never  pronounced.  On  the 
one  hand,  free,  at  least  in  appear- 
ance, from  all  the  passions,  which 
are  inconsistent  with  tlie  spirit  of 
Christianity  ;  grave  in  his  discour- 
ses, temperate  in  his  diet,  austere 
in  his  manner  of  li\ing.  On  the 
other  hand,  employing  all  the 
strength  of  his  genius  to  overtlirow 
the  foundations  of  moral  virtue,  at- 
taicking,as  much  as;  lay  in  his  pow- 
er, chastity,  modesty,  and  all  the 
christian  Virtues.    On  the  one  side^ 


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•ILVA. 


rr 


appealing  to  the  throne  of  the  most 
severe  orthodoxy  5  going  to  the 
purest  springs,  borrowing  his  ar*- 
guments  from  the  least  suspected 
\mters.  On  the  other  hand,  fol- 
lowing the  paths  of  hereticks,  pro- 
posing again  the  objections  of  the 
andent  heresiarchs,  lending  them 
new  arms,  and  collecting  together 
in  our  age  all  the  errours  of  past 
ages.  May  that  man,  who  had 
been  endowed  witl^  so  many  tal- 
ents,be  acquitted  before  God  of  the 
in  use  he  made  of  them  I  May  that 
Jesus,  whom  he  so  often  attacked, 
hare  expiated  his  sins  !* 

I^ARKSLt   AtfO   VOLTAlRfi. 

The  story  of  the  hermit,  which 
Pamell  tells  in  Verse,  Voltaire  re- 
lates in  prose,  precisely  in  the  same 
order,  ia  his  romance  of  Zadig. 
Qucre,  which  is  the  plagiary,  or 
hare  they  both  borrowed  the  story 
from  another  ?  Voltaire  continued 
an  author  for  more  than  sixty 
years,  but  still  I  think  that  Pamell 
taust  have  been  his  senior.  Few 
have  written  so  well  as  Voltaire  on 
such  an  infinite  variety  of  subjects ; 
but  in  every  department  of  litera- 
ture he  has  been  excelled  by  some. 
His  immortality  would  have  been 
more  secure,  had  he  confined  his 
genius  to  any  one  species  of  com- 
position, though  his  temporary 
popularity  would  have  been  less 
extensive. 

COWPER   AKt>   THOMSOir. 

I  AM  astonished  that  any  one 
can  prefer  Cowper  to  Thomson. 
The  Task  is  indeed  a  poem  of  con- 
siderable merit,  exhibiting  an  orig- 
inal cast  of  thought,  and  a  strong 
imaghiation.  But  it  does  not  pos- 
sess the  same  interest  as  the  Sea- 
sons, nor  do  I  recollect  any  passa- 
ges in  it  eminently  beautiful. 
There  is  so  little  order  and  con- 
nexion   in   this   poem,  that  you 

Vol.  III.    No.  1.  C 


might  transpose  the  paragr^h?^  as 
you  read  without  injury.  The 
style  is  indeed  more  pure  and  clas- 
sical than  that  of  Thomson,  which 
abounds  with  gorgeous  epithets 
and  ill-sounding  compound  adjec- 
tives. But  the  latter  has  infinitely 
the  advantage  in  the  superiour  in- 
terest which  he  excites,  in  more 
vigour  of  conception,  in  greater 
tenderness  and  delicacy,  and  in  ev- 
ery poetical  embellishment.  I 
give  the  Seasons  an  annual  peru- 
sal, and  they  always  afford  me 
fresh  pleasure.  I  have  never  been 
able  to  read  the  Task  a  second 
time.  As  to  Cowper's  produc- 
tions in  rhyme,  if  any  man  can 
read  them  at  all,  I  shall  rather  ap- 
plaud his  patience,  than  imitate  his 
example.  He  seems  to  have  no 
ear  for  harmony,  so  that,  were  we 
not  acquainted  with  his  age,  we 
should  scarcely  suspect  him  of  be- 
ing a  moderh.  Though  there 
may  be  harmony  without  poetrv, 
there  can  be  no  good  poetry  with- 
out harmony.  The  want  of  this 
indispensible  requisite  constitutes 
the  principal  charge  of  Horace  a- 
gainst  Lucilius,  as  the  possesion 
of  it  in  a  pre-eminent  degree  gives 
to  Virgil  and  Pope  the  exalted  rank 
which  they  hold  among  the  poets 
of  their  respective  countries.  The 
satires  and  epistles  of  Horace  we 
probably  know  not  the  true  ilieth- 
od  of  reading.  We  cannot  at  pre- 
sent ^scover  in  them  that  harmo- 
ny, the  want  of  which  he  censures 
in  Lucilius,  and  which,  for  tliis 
very  reason,  they  must  undoubted- 
ly possess.  I  once  endeavoured 
to  read  Cowper's  Homer,  but  I 
found  it  an  herculean  task,  and  I 
was  no  Hercules.  It  may  possess 
every  other  merit,  but  certainly 
wants  the  power  of  keeping  its 
readers  awake.  The  first  lines  of 
the  Seasons  are  ridiculous,  as  they 
contain  absurd  imager)'.   Observe. 


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16 


SILVA. 


Come,  gentle  spring,  tttherial  mlldneit,  come  t 
And  firom  the  bosom  of  yon  dropping  cloud, 
while  muckrk  wak^  around,  vdled  Hi  a  shower 
Of  thadowiilg  roses.  Oh  ouf  pfarfn*  descend. 

I  quote  from  memory,  but  I  be- 
lieve correctly.  Now  reduce  this 
to  painting,  and  what  kind  of  pic- 
ture does  it  pVescnt  ?  ^  Sprteg,  an 
allegorical  personage,  is  described 
as  desccndttig  from  the  bosom  df 
a  drofifiing  cloud  (qtiere,  what  does 
the  cloud  drop  ?)  while  muaick 
tvakes  around.  What  musick,  vo- 
cal, or  ihstrtimental  ?  non  liquet^ 
veiled  in  a  ahbwer  of  shadowing 
ro9e8,  ff  Thomson  hatf  often 
written  as  ill  as  this,  there  would 
be  no  cohiparifeon  between  him  and 
Cowper.  But  at  presienti  as  a  p6et, 
I  think  the  lattex*  decidedly  hife- 
riour.  Though  he  may  possess 
lio  passage  so  faulty  as  theorte  judt 
quoted;  yet  he  seldom  rises  above 
the  level  of  mediocrity.  Notwith- 
standing that  the  style  of  Cowper 
is  unusually  chaste,  yet  is  there  a 
sombre  cast  of  thought,  which 
Jteems  to  pvoceed  fiom  a  mind  not 
altogether  soond  and  at  ease. 

ITDtJCATrioIJ'. 

EnucATiojf  has  bectf  grcatiy^ 
improved  in  this  country^  of  late 
years.  But  though  much  has  beeii 
done,  yet  much  remains  to  be  done. 
Our  litei^ary  discipline  is  well  cal- 
culated for  common  purposes,  and 
our  professional  men  are  little  in- 
ferioUr  to  those  of  other  coimtries 
in  the  knowledge  of  their  profes- 
sion. Bat  here  our  claihis  to  praise 
tnust  end.  Our  lawyers  are  mter6 
laW}'ers,  our  physicians  are  met^ 
physicians,  our  diVincS  afe  mere 
divines.  Every  thing  sftiells  of  the 
shop  ,and  you  will,  in  a  few  minutes 
conversation,  infallibly  detect  a 
man's  profession.  We  seldonfi 
meet  here  with  an  accomplished 
character,  a  young  tnan  offifte  ge- 
nius and  very  general  knowledge, 
the  scholar  and  the  gentleman, 
united.     Such  a  character  is  not 


uncomn>on  in  Eu^opc^bu^is  hcrC 
a  vara  avis  intexria.  Whence  prq-' 
ceeds  this  diiference  ?  From  the 
inferiority  of  education  among  uS- 
Our  schoolmasters  receive  a  merfe 
pittance,  and  are  consequeritty  men 
of  inferioUr  talents.  Every  maii, 
capable  of  instructing  well,  follows 
some  pr6fe>ssibn*or  business,  able 
to  support  hi'm^  *  A  preceptor, 
without  geniusj  can  never  inspire 
a  pupil  with  the  Jove  6f  learning.- 
Instead  of  reading  Virgil  and 
Horace  with  the  enthusiasm  of  an 
amateur^  and  of  explaining  them 
with  the  taste  and  acuteness  of  a 
Busby,  he  will  barely  require  a 
verbatim  translation,  and  a  knowN' 
edge  of  the  rules  of  gi^mmar. 
The  spirit  and  beauties  of  the  aur 
thol^  remain  without  notice  ;  and 
\frhat  has  never  been  taught  will 
seldom  be  discovered.  They  go 
to  college  with  6ut  a  sihattering  of 
leaming,  ai)d  often  leave  it  with 
still  less.  For  the  same  system  of 
economy  pervades  our  academick 
walls,  and  a  college  tutor  receives 
rather  less  than  a  Boston  labourer. 
Those,  who  are  qualified  for  noth- ' 
ing  else,  consequently  become  tu- 
tors, arid  bur  guides  to  Parnassus 
are  themselves  ignorant  of  the  road 
tliaf  leads  thither. 

The  schoolmaster^  of  Europe, 
particularly  of  Great-Britain,  arc 
amply  i-ewarded  for  their  laboui's, 
and  generally  consist  of  the  best 
scholars  in  the  kingdom.  The 
employment  is  honourable  arid  lu- 
crative, and  is  almost  always  re- 
warded with  some  distinguished 
Ccclesiasticaf  preferment,  the  pre^ 
ceplors  themselves  being  always 
clergyihen  of  the  establbhed 
chrirch.  I  shall  close  this  article 
with  the  character  of  Dr.  Sumner, 
master  of  Harrow-school,  drawn 
by  his  piipily  Sir  W.  Jones,  in  the 
preface  to  his  treatise  on  tersiaiJ 
poetry.  The  translatfon  of  course 
must   be  Very    infciiour   tQ  Ui^ 


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THE   REMARRfiR. 


15 


elegance  of  the  original  Latin. 
*  The  reader,  I  hope,  wilJ  par- 
don me,  if  I  cannot  here  resist  the 
temptation  of  extolling  the  \4rtues, 
of  this  most  Jearned  man,  who  was 
my  Intimate  friend,  ^d  of  express- 
ing just  son'ow  at  his  lamented' 
death.  He  was  a  man  of  distin- 
^xshcd  genius  and  integrity,  of 
admirable  temper,  polite  manners, 
jsnd  exqubite  learning.  He  pos- 
sessed, beyond  any  in^ructer  I 
ever  knew,  the  fecully  of  .commn- 
mcating  knowledge  ;  and  si^ch  was 
the  pleasantry  of  hfe  deportment, 
that  it  was  ^ilficult  to  delennine, 
whether  he  was  more  agreeable  to 
his  friends,  or  scholars.  In  Grey 
dan  and  Roman  literature  he  was 
profoundly  skilled;  and,  though  like ' 


another  Socrates,  he  ivTotc  little 
himself,  no  one  could  more  ably 
detect  the  faults,  or  point  out  the 
beauties  of  authors  of  every  des- 
cription. Had  fortime  destined 
him  for  the  bar  or  senate,  and  not 
confined  him  to  the  employment 
of  tuition,  he  would  have  yielded 
to  np  <Mie  in  eloquence,  which  is 
exclusively  cultivated  in  Great 
Britain.  For  he  possessed,  if  not 
in  perfection,  at  least  in  a  very  high 
degree,  all  tlie  accomplishments 
commendai>le  in  an  orator,  a  mu- 
sical vdice,  purity  of  language,  a 
flowing  style,  uniting  elegance  and 
wit  >vith  a  most  tenacious  memo- 
ry ;  in  a  word,  the  eyes,  the  coun- 
tenance, the  action,  not  of  a  player, 
but  of  another  Demosthenes.* 


FOR   THE  JjYTHOLOGr. 

THE  REMARKER,  M.  f. 

/)mrad  •peram  censoret,'  ne  fwd  retpidli^  [literarum]  Jefrimmti  saferH^'^SaHLCsiL 

SO  little  have  the  writers  of  our  mains  of  national  animosity  ;  and 
country  been  aacus»tqmed  to  the,  when  a  critick  among  ourselves 
rigour  of  a  critical' ti^^unal,  th.j^t,     has  sometimes  ventured  to  speak 


to  secure  a  comfortable  seat  in  some 
of  the  out-houses  belongjing  to  the 
temple  of  fame,  nothing  has  btee)i 
hitherto  necessary,  but  the  resolu- 
tion to  write,  and  the  folly  to  pubr 
lish.  While,  hoivever,  the  same 
T\Yodels  of  excellence  are  accessible, 
the  same  laws  of  taste  ai*e  promul- 
gated, and  tlie  same  language  js 
vernacular  on  l|ptK  jiides  of  the  At- 
lantick,  I  know  not  why  the  sen- 
tences of  criticism  should  not  be 
executedin  ail  their  pgour  on  these 
western  shores;  or  why  the  majes- 
ty of  the  republick  of  letters  should 
be  insulted  with  impunity  in  the 
remotest  pro vince5  ojf  the  empire, 
Every  man  of  reading,  yvhq  h^s 
watched  the  jealous  spirit  of  th^ 
times,  mus^  have  observed,  that 
whenever  an  American  work  is 
ccns^ured  in  the  journals  of  British 
criticism,  their  judgment  is  attrib- 
uted to  some  unextinguished  re- 


ip  a  tone  of  authority,  he  has  been 
set  down  for  a  conceited  imitator 
of  foreign  impenj^nence.  So  rare 
have  been  the  instances  among  us 
of*  manly  and  unprejudiced  critir 
cism,  that,  to  point  out  the  faults  of 
a  living  author,  instead  of  making 
him  grateful,  onjy  makes  him 
mad  ;  and  he  d^covers  all  the  fu- 
ry, which  is  felt  by  an  antiquated 
belle,  when  her  little  piece  unluck- 
iiy  espjes  a  gray  hair  among  the 
sable  honours  of  her  head,  and  in- 
nocently presumes  to  pull  out  the 
intruder. 
*  So  imperfectly  ha§  the  right  of 
criticism  been  attended  to  among 
us,  that  many  a  sober  chizen,  I 
doubt  not,  is  unable  to  distinguish 
between  the  privilege  of  finding 
fault  with  an  author,  and  the  wick- 
edness of  publishing  a  defamatory 
lil>el.  But  in  truth  this  right  of 
litcriiry  ccukurc  is  bestowed  upoa 


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^ 


THE  mSMAHKER. 


the  critick  by  the  author  him^jyf.. 
Every  n^au  who  publishes»  virtual-' 
ly  offers  a  chaUeoge  to  the  pub- 
lick,  or  at  least  courts  their  decis- 
ion. By  claiming  praise»  he  runs 
the  hazard  of  censure  ;  and  theyy 
in  whose  power  it  is  to  confer  t^e 
one,  have  undoubtedly  a  right  to 
adininister  the  other.  *  S'iis 
Teulent  avoir  en  nous  dea  admira- 
teurs,  il  faut  qu'ils  nous  permettent 
d'oser  ctre  leurs  juges»'  says  the 
charming  La  Harpe,  in  the  intro- 
duction to  his  Lycsum.  But  if 
*we  have  a  right  to  judge,  we  xnu$t 
liave  also  a  right  tp  laugh  ;  &r 
nothing  can  compel  us  to  read  with 
gravity  in  printf  what  would  have 
convulsed  us  with  merriment,  if  we 
had  heard  it  in  conversation.  If 
indeed  we  laugh  at  what  is  not 
laughable,  or  applaud  what  is  not 
commendable,  or  hiss  at  what  is 
Tkot  absurd,  we  run  the  common 
hazard  of  a^critick  in  the  pit,,  when 
he  has  clapped  in  the  wrong  place, 
and  is  suificiently  disgraced  by 
^ding  himself  alone.  ' 

It  is  plainly  no  violation  of  the 
laws  of  literary  courtesy  to  hold ' 
up  dulness  and  absurdity  to  the  de- 
rision of  the  publick  ;  for  it  has 
long  since  been  tacitly  agreed,  that 
if  an  author  has  a  right  to  be  dull, 
the  critick  has  a  right  to  be  severe. 
Common  equity  declares,  that  one 
aide  ought  not  to  claim  a  monop- 
oly of  privileges.  Nothing  but  the 
immunity  of  satirical  criticism  can 
impose  the  slightest  restraint  on 
the  vanity  of  authorship.  By  rid- 
icule too,  the  taste  of  the  publick 
is  insensibly  corrected  and  refined  ; 
for  many,  who  have  no  time  to  lis- 
ten to  a  reason,  are  always  ready 
to  join  in  a  laugh  ;  and  thousands^ , 
-who  undi^rstand  nothing  of  the 
principles  of  taste,  caA  see  an  ab- 
surdity when  exposed  by  another. 
How  far  it  b  lawful  to  distress  an 
mithor  by  ridicule  or  censure,  with- 
P4t  transgressing  the  laws  of  chris- 


tian benevolence,  I  am  not  casuist 
enough  to  determine.  I  will  give 
you  the  opinion  of  the  greatest 
master  of  moral  science,  as  well  o£ 
literary  discussion,  which  the  last 
age  produced.  **  As  it  very  sel- 
dom happens,  that  the  rage  of  ex- 
temporary criticism  inflicts  fatal  or 
lasting  wounds,  I  know  not  thai  the 
laws  of  benevolence  entitle  this  dis-» 
tress  to  much  sympathy.  The 
divenion  of  baiting  an  author  has 
the  sanction  of  all  aees  and  na- 
tions, and  is  more  lawnil  than  the 
sport  of  teizing  other  animals,  be- 
cause, fbr  the  most  part,  he  cornea 
voluntarily  to  the  stake,  furnished, 
as  he  imagines,  by  the  patron  pow- 
ers of  literature,  with  resistless 
weapons  and  impenetrable  armour, 
with  the  midl  ot  the  boar  pf  Ery-' 
manth,  and  the  paws  of  the  lion  of 
Nemea."  [Johnson's  Rambler, 
No.  176.] 

Authors  boldly  eneoimter  the 
silent  neglect  of  the  publick,  and 
at  the  same  time  complain  of  the 
opinion  of  an  individual,  and  im- 
agine themselves  outraged  by  the 
censure  of  a  reviewer.  While  they 
see  with  much  composure  their 
favourite  productions  quietly  de-r 
voured  by  the  moths,  those  mer- 
ciless reviewers,  who  have  no  more 
respect  for  a  polished  than  for  a 
clumsy  period,  and  make  as  hearty 
a  meal  upon  a  genius  as  upon  a 
dumce  ;  tiiey  will  take  instant  of- 
fence at  a  critick,  who  presumes 
to  separate  in  their  works  the  dry 
from  the  nutritious,  who  acciden- 
tally makes  a  wry  face  at  what  is 
nauseous,  or  involuntarily  rejects 
what  is  insipid.  It  is  a  common 
trick  of  incensed  authors  to  rail 
against  reviewers,  as  men  who 
have  impudently  set  themselves 
up  as  guardians  of  publick  taste, 
or  rather  as  a  band  of  literary  ex- 
ecutioners. Indeed  there  is  some 
show  of  reason  in  the  complaint, 
that  anonymous  reviews  arc  an  un- 


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mZ  KUCAJU»]l. 


just  assuinptioii  of  authority,  be- 
ciuse  they  in  some  measure  in- 
clude the  power  of  puruslilng,  as 
well  as  of  judging  ;  which  powers, 
ID  erery  free  state,  should  be  kept 
perfectly  distinct.  To  explain  this 
anomaly  I  will  attempt  to  give  you 
some  hints,  which  I  have  gathered 
from  Bayle,  who  was  long  a  dicta-. 
tor  in  the  repubUck  of  letfers. 

The  commonwealth  of  learning 
is  the  ooly  permanent  exaicnple  of 
pure  and  original  democracy*  In 
this  state,  under  the  protection  of 
truth  and  reason,  whose  authority 
akxne  is  acknowledged,  wars  may. 
be  carried  on  with  the  utmcxst  in- 
npcence,  though  not  always  with 
impunity  ;  for  here  every  ^lan  is 
soverdg  man  also  un- 

der the  j  '  every  other. 

The  laws  of  €:ivil  society  have  in 
BO  degree  abridged  the  indepen- 
dence of  the  state  of  nature,  as  to 
errour  an4  ignorance*.  No  man 
cm  be  yy^JlM^y^  by  the  social  com- 
pact from  hb  unalienable  right  to 
be  a  fool  ;  and^  on  the  other  side, 
every  man  retains  the  right  of  the 
twoiti,aDd  n^y  exercise  it  without 
a  commia^on.  <<  If  it  is  asked,*' 
ays  Bayle,  "why  the  civil  author- 
ity should  leave  every  one  at  lib- 
erty to  expose  the  mistakes  and 
IblUes  of  authors,  it  may  be  an- 
swered, that  to  criticise  a  book, 
tends  only  to  show,  that  the  au- 
thor does  not  possess  a  ce^ajn  de- 
gitei  o^kixyf  mge  or  of  talent. — 
Now,  as  an  aotfi^  may  enjoy  all 
the  rights  n^.  privileges  of  the 

community lives,  not;, 

withstandin  of  knowU 

.  edge  and  of  a$  his  re; 

patation,  as  lan  and  a 

good  sub  yealth,, 

does  not  i  ieas)^, 

Uemish,  *patIo|^ 

b  made  on  ine  majesty  of  the 
statoi  by  showing  to  the  publici; 
,  the  &ults  of  a  book/'     [Ba^'a 
Diet.  art.  Catius.  Is'ot^  D.l      /  \ 


If  then  the  conelative  rights  of 
publishing  and.  of  censuring  non; 
sense  remain  alike  unimpaired  by 
the  conventions,  and  established  by; 
the  immemorial  customs  of  8oci<« 
ety,  it  fpllows,  that,  if  every  writer 
of  a  book  may  publish  anonymous* 
ly,  the.  writer  of, a  review  cannot 
be  con^)eiled  to  deciare  himself;^ 
and,- as  the  object  of  criticism  ia 
not  persons,  butAvorks,  there  is  no 
cowardice  in  this  conc^k^nent. 
There  is  nothing- dishonourable  in 
firing  at  a  senseless  mark-  out  of 
an  ambush,  or  from  behind  a  tree, 
.  It  will  perhaps,  be  esteemed  a 
more  difficult  task  ^^  ma^itafn  th» 
expediency,  than  to  esta^ish  tba 
right  of  critical  severity^  in  the 
present  state  of  American  litera- 
ture. It  will  be  said)  that  our 
country  is  yoiingj  an^  tberefore 
her  infantile  productions  in  the 
field  of  lettersdeser\'e  rather  to  be 
cherished  by  th^  gentle  and  per* 
fumed  gales  of  flattery,  than  to  be 
checked  by  the  chills  of  neglect,  or 
beaten  dowp  by  the  blasts  of  angrjr 
criticism.  It  will  be  said)  that  our 
mos|:  sible  minds  will  continue  to 
shun  the  dangers  of  authorship,  if 
every  thing,  which  issijes  from  the 
press,  must  be  subjected  to  the 
unrelenting  severity  of  anonymous 
remark.  But  is  he  a  friend  to  the 
literature  of  his  country,  who. 
>rishes  to  excuse  it  from  examina- 
tion ?  Does  he  think*  that  the  ei^f' 
multiplication  of  feeble  works  will 
eventually  establish .  a  solid  basis 
for  our  future  fame  ?  No :  theever*^ 
lasting  oaks  of  our  forests  were  not 
raised  in  a  hot-^honse.  The  indul- 
gent remarks  of  candid  friends, 
the  simpering  smiles  of  kitchen- 
jcriticks,  the  pufHng  advertisements' 
pf  newspapers,  and  the  lullaby 
Strain^  of  poetasters,  will  never 
patroi)ize  the  growth  of  solid  leam- 
mg,  nor  confer  immortality  on  the 
authors  of  our  country.  We  have 
yet  tj^  Ipam,  tliat  to  write  correp^^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


ff 


•tHE  ilEMARUK. 


}f  ind^to  think"$cftaBIy  ought  to 
^  made  insepatt^le  habits;  if  then, 
when  a  poet  is  a  dunce,  vre  say 
that  he  is  a  gemus  ;  when  tm  oria* 
tor^alkft  fttstian,  ^c  say  that  he  is 
cjoqueift  ;  when  a  writer  is  sole- 
dstical,  we  say  that  he  is  a  little 
inaccurate  ;  or  when  a  book  is 
composed  in  a  Babylonish  <Kalect, 
we  excuse  it  because  it  is  Amer- 
icanize arc  only  feeding  children 
ivlth  sweetmcats,or  wrapping  them 
Tsp  warm  against  the  cold,  and  thus 
iaytng  the  ^undt^on  of  perpetual 
Tanity,  imbecility,  tod  idiotism. 

The  earliest  reviewst  whkh  ap- 
»e«red  in  Europe,  were  undoubt- 
•ediy  the  most  gende  in  their  ani- 
imadversiona.  ft  is  true  also,  that 
they  wefe  recotATOendcd  by  some 
of  the  most  celebrated  names, 
which  the  annals  of  literature  can 
lumish.  Bayle,  LeCIerc^asnage, 
iknd  8*Gravesande*  did  not  disdain 
to  be  editors  of  literary  journals. 
But  the  first  has  a\ways  been  cen- 
sured for  the  eiicvmiastick  strain 
of  hb  remarks,  and  the  others 
commonly  rp«^"f*terf  themselves, 
except  where  preju- 

dices   were  bare 

analyses  of  the  works,  wwch  they 
announced.  Since  that  time  the 
state  of  the  3f  letters 

has  essentia  Then  the 

literature  of  is  jiist  a- 

waking  from  us  long  i-epose  in 
the  cloisters  of  monks,  and  the 

•  Baylc  hepfi  the  NeitvclUs  A  la  J^em 
£tfB!ipte  Je  tcitrd^  in  1 684,  but  it  was  dis- 
contin\icd  in  1^7,  on  account  of  hit  ill 
health.  Bamage  de  Beanval  wrote  a  ae« 
quel  of  them  uodec  tl^e  r^ie  of  VW^nre 
d^s  ouvraegn  da  jl^avtfiu,  which  ccmuncDC- 
ed  in  1^87,  and  was  concluded  in  24  volt. 
r2nio.  in  1 709.  Le  Clerc  conducted  ih^ 
Sihlittihcque  U/averuUe  from  1086t6IC9S, 
95  roU.  Ifimo.  the  SiUi^th^re  Qfitk  UotA 
170.S  to  1718,  S8  Tolft.  12mo.  and^be 
BiU'Kt^ftu  Amiaitu  Uf  Mtdermt  fronk 
17)4  to  1727,  2d  vols.  ISnio.  S'Grave^ 
•ande,  the  celebrated  philosopher,  edited 
Ze  y«itntal  Lhf rain  frcm  1^13  to  W2i^ 


legends   of    popish    superstition. 
The  liberty  to  think,  and  the  dis- 
position to  write,  demanded  every 
stimulus    and    every    encourage  r 
ment.     Now  the  licentiousness  of 
the  press  has  become  a  greater 
evil,  than  its  inactivity,  and  instan- 
ces  of  superfetation  are  more  fre- 
quent than  of  sterility.     Then  the 
laws  of  fine  wjiting  were  imper- 
fectly established,   and  rarely  un- 
derstood ;  now  they  are  or  ought 
to  be  familiar  to  school  boys  and 
abecedarians.     Then  the  method 
of  conducting  literarj'  journals  wai 
to  be  ascertained  by  experiment, 
and  an  author  was  to  be  flattered 
into  a    quiet    acknowledgment  of 
their  privileges  ;  now  every   can* 
didate  for  fame  has  it  in  his  power 
to    consult  innumerable    preced- 
ents, statutes,  and  declarations  of 
criticism,  by  which  the  verdict  of- 
the  publick  and  the  sentence  ot 
the  reviewer  may  be  previously 
and  probably  conjectured.     Theh 
authorship    had    not    become  a 
trade  ;  plagiarism  ^as  not  practis- 
ed  with    unblushing  effrontery  ; 
nor  were  the   scraps  of  every  au- 
thor's scnitoire   swept  out  upon 
the  publick  ;   now  every  starvling 
pedant  writes  for  bread,  and   all 
that  is  necessary  to  constitute  an 
authgr  is,  the  industry  to  borrow 
or  to  steal  materials,  till  he  is  able 
to  swell  out  a  volume.     In  such  a 
state  of  things,  it  is  not  cnougli 
that  a  review  contains  an  analysis 
of  a  work,  for  some  M'brks  defy 
analysis  ;  neither  is  it  enough  cor- 
rectly to  state  the   subjects  of  a 
book,  for  that  might  be   done  by 
transcribing  the  table  of  contents  ; 
but  the  faithful   reviewer  is  dailj^ 
called  upon  to  detect  literary  thefts, 
to  expose  absurdities,  ]to  correct 
blunders,  to  check  the  contagion 
of  hlit  taste,  to  rescue  the  pub- 
lick from  the  impositions  of  dull- 
ness, and  to  assert  the  majesty  of 
learning  -and  of  tmth. 


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Tmi  HEKARCCm. 


in  stating  these  lofty  pretensions 
<^  the  criticky  we  had  almost  for- 
^jotten  the  claims  of  the  author. 
If  I  am  asked,  what  redress  can 
aa  author  obtain,  who  has  been 
ignorantly  criticised,  or  unmerci- 
fully castigated  ;  I  answer ;  the  re- 
dress of  an  author,"  who  deserves 
anr,  will  always  be  found  in  the 
"AJdntatc  decision  of  the  publick. 
*«  The  satire  of  Poi)e,*'  says  JohA- 
•on, «  which  brought  Theobald 
and  Moore  into  contempt,  drop- 
ped impotent  from  Bentley,  like 
the  javelin  of  Priam/*  Besides, 
the  name  of  an  author  will  always 
command  more  intrinsick  respect,"* 
thaa  that  of  a  critick.  The  fbr^^ 
incr  natundly  takes  rank  of  the 
iatler  in  the  cetemonial  of  litera* 
tune*  It  requires  less  ability  to 
detect  £aiilts,  than  to  avoid  them  ; 
but  even  if  it  were  not  so,  the  au* 
thor  should  remember,  that  he 
forercT  retains  the  right  of  primo* 
geaiture,  and  the  advantage  of 
pre-occupying  the  attention  of  the 
publick  ;  and  while  authors  may 
exist  without  criticks,  the  latter 
cannot  maintain  themselves  a  mp^ 
Bteoat,  if  writers  shouki  withhold 
the  customary  prey. 

As  to  the  herd  of  vain  and  dis- 
appointed authors  I  have  long  per- 
plexed myftclf  to  find  a  remedy  for 
their  chagrin.  I  can  recommend 
no  better  mode  of  avenging  them- 
selves on  the  criticks  and  on  the 
publick,  than  by  obstinately  refus- 
iog  to  publish  any  more.  It  is 
true  that  there  arc  many  incon- 
veniences, which  would  follow 
•o  decisive  a  measure  ;  for  the 
voHd  would  thus  be  deprived  of 
much  harmless  diversion,  and  per- 
haps some  of  the  brethren  of  the 
trpe  woi^  be  thrown  out  of  em- 
ployment ;  but  whenever  I  begin 
to  be  adarmed  by  these  solemn  con- 
«qucnces,  and  tremble  at  the 
rawing  tyranny  of  criticism,  I 
iad  myself  relieved  by  the  hu- 


mour of  the  following  poaaage  io 
Baillet,  with  which  I  wiU  close  the 
present  number. 

..."  L'in.convenfem  de  voh*  Ic 
monde  sans  Ikres  ne  sera  jamais 
a  craindre,  puisqu'  il  est  a  presuny 
er  qu'U  y  aura  toujours  plus  d'ecri- 
vains  que  dcgens  sages.  Ceux 
qui  remarquerent  que  S.  Augus- 
tin  exhortoit  fortement  toute  le 
ihonde  %  la  continence,  se  crurenc 
obliges  de  lui  rementrer,  qu'il  prit 
garde  aux  desordres  qui  ca  poii- 
voient  nsltre,  Sc  qui  se  chacun  vou- 
loit  garder  sa  virginity,  le  genre 
humain  periroit  en  peu  de  tem& 
S.  Augustin  se  moqua  d'^eux,  parc^ 
qull  savoit  Wen  qu'il  ne  seroit  ja- 
mais pris  au  mot,  &  qu'il  y  auroii 
toujours  assez  de  perspnnes  de  Tun 
8c  de  I'autre  sexe,  qui  ne  quilteroi- 
ent  pas  leur  part  des  plaisirs  du 
mariage.  Que  Ton  dbe  tout  ce 
qu'on  voudra  pour  la  continence, 
cela  n'emp^chera  point  les  enfan- 
temens  f  Ton  peut  aaaurer  ausai 
que  quelque  chose  que  I'on  disc, 
ou  que  Ton  &sse  coatre  les  auteursy 
rien  ne  sera  capable  d'empecher 
qu'ils  n'eufantent  Uvre  sur  livre. 
La  superfetation  eat  incomparable* 
ment  plus  fr^uente  parmi  eux  qne 
parmi  les  femnfes ;  car  combien 
de  fob  commencent41s  un  nou- 
veau  dessein,  avant  que  d 'avoir 
acheve  le  precedent.  Ainsi  Ton 
ne  se  doit  pas  allarmer  de  Icurs 
menaces ;  il  est  vrai  que  quand  ii^ 
voyent  qu'on  raahraite  Icurs  ccrits, 
ils  formcnt  le  m^me  dc&seiu  qu' 
Apollon  forma  lors  que  son  tils 
Phaeton  fat  tu^  d*un  coup  dc  £wi- 
dre  ;  je  vcux  dire  qu*ils  songent  k 
ne  plus  rcpandre  la  lumicrc  dan^i 
Tunivers  ;  mais  cela  ne  dure  pas, 
ils  reviennent  de  ccs  premiers 
mouvcmens  ,  8c  on  les  cmbarras 
seroit  un  pcu  si  on  les  dvficit  dans 
les  fonnes  d'exccuter  leur  menace, 
lis  aimeroient  mieux  qu*on  segou- 
vemat  h  leur  ^jjard,  comme  Ton  fit 
envers   Apollon,  qui  se  vit  tres- 


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SAKB  S^OCf/ 


humblemient  sU}>lie  de  De  lalsser 
pas  le  monde'dans  les  tenebresi 

NcTc  Tdit  tendm  indoccre  retnu^ 
flbpf  Uce  voce  rogimt. 

lis  seroient  m^me  ravis  qu'on  les 
en  pri&t  avec  rautorite  du  com* 


mandement  Sc  de  la  menade,  com- 
me  on  la  pratiqua  envers  ApoUon, 

•— —  Pfecibaiqiie  miiiM  ngma  idtfir  - 

[Baillet  Jugemena  des    Sqmvo^m. 
Tom.  4.] 


FOR    THE    jiATTHOLOGY. 
SANi  SOUCI. 

Stealing  and  ghrtag.tweett^  SHAKEiT. 


JVb.  I. 


The  nieatine^^hd  servility >of 
firyden's  hyperbolical  adulation, 
in  his  dedications,  has  been  severe- 
ly and  justly  censWred  by  DrJohn*- 
eon ;  but  the  encomiastic  language 
which  he  always' used  in  these 
compositions  was  rather  the  vice 
of  the  times,  thaii  of  the  triaii. 
The  dedication '  of  almost  every 
muthor  of  that  age  was  equally 
loaded  with  flattery,  and  some- 
times far  surpassed  any  of  Dry^ 
den's  in  extravagance  of  praise; 
Of  all  Dryden's  dedications,  the 
one,  from  which  we  made  the'fbl* 
lowing  extracts,  addressed  to  h6f 
royal  highness  the  duchess  Mary 
of  Este,  daughter  of  the  duke  of 
Modena,  while  ft  gives  abundant 
proofs  of  the  variety  and  luxuri* 
ance  of  his  fancy,  exhibits  the 
most  perfect  specimen  of  what  is 
called  the  celestial  style.  The 
duchess  was,  at  the  time  of  hei' 
marriage,  little  more  thsm  fourteen? 
and,  according  to  Macpherson,  of 
exquisite  beauty. 
«7b  her  Royal  Hig/tnesa  the  Duchess, 

<  MADAM, 

<  Ambition  is  so  fofrom  bcteg 
a  vice  in  poets,  that  it  is  almost 
impossible  for  them  to  succeed 
without  it.  Imagination  must  be 
raised  by  a  desire  of  ftme,  to  a 
desire  of  pleasing  ;  and  they,whom 
in  all  ages  poets  have  endeavour- 
ed most  to  please,  have  been  the 
beautiful  and  'the  great.  Beauty;* 
is  their  deity  to  which  thejr  sacri- 
fice, and 'greatnesses  their  guardi- 
an angel    which  protects  them. 


Both  these  are  so  emhientfjr  join- 
ed  in  the  person  of  your   Royal 
Highness,  that  it  were  not  easy  lor 
any  biit  a  poet  to  determine' which 
of  diem  outshines  the  other.     But 
I  confess.  Madam,  I  am  already 
biassed  ih  my  choice.     I  cati  easi<» 
ly  resign  to  others  the  prtd^  of 
your  illustrious  family,  and   that 
glory  which  you  derive  from  a 
long-continued    race   of  princes^ 
famous  for  their  actions  both   in 
peace  andwar  ;  I  can  give  up  to 
the  historians  of  your  country  the 
the  names  of  so  many  gienerals 
and  heroes  which  croud  thdr   an« 
nals  ;  and  to  our  own,  the  hopes 
of  those  which  you  are  to  produce 
for  the  British  chronicle.     I  can 
yield,  ^thout  envy,  to  the  nodon 
of  poets,  the  fiemiily  of  Ekte,  to 
which '  Ariostb  and    Tassd  have 
owed  their  patronage,  and  til  which 
the  world  has  owed  their  poets  ; 
but  I  could  not,  without  lAtreine 
reluctance,  resign    the  thfone  of 
your  beauty  to  another  hawd-   But 
with  whatsoever  vanity  this  new 
hontiur  of  being  your  poet  has 
iilled  my  mind,  I  cones'  tnysclf 
too  weak  for  the  inspiration  ;  the 
priest  was  always  unequal  to  the 
oracle  ;  the  god  within  him  was 
too  mighty  for  his  breast.     He 
tabbured  with  the^  Sacred  revela* 
tion,  and  there  wns  more'  of  tha 
mystery  left  behind,  than  divinity 
itself  tould  enable  MmfO  express. 
I  tanljut  discover  a  part  of  your 
excellendes  to  the  world  t;    and 
thattooaccerding^l^the  measure 


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sxit%  totttl 


15 


^ttif  own  weakness. '  tike  those 
who  have  surveyed  the  moon  by 
l^lasses,  I  can  only  tell  of  a  new  ai^ 
shining  world  above  us,  Sut  not 
relate  the  riches  and  glories  of  the 
place.* .  4  4  rf  •  Fortune  has,  indeed, 
but  rendered  justice  to  so  much 
ciedlenee,  in  setting  it  so  high  to 
]>ublick  view  ;  or  ratlicr  Provi- 
dence has  done  justice  to  itself,  in 
pladng  the  most  perfect  workman^ 
ship  of  heaven,  where  it  may  be 
admired  by  all  beholders.  Had 
the  suh  and  Stal*s  been  seated  low- 
er, their  glory  had  not  been  com* 
municated  to  all  at  once  ;  and  the 
Creator  had  wanted  so  much  of  his 
praise,  as  he  had  made  your  con- 
dition more  obscure  ;  but  he  has 
placed  you  so  near  a  crown,  that 
you  add  a  lustre  to  it  by  your 
beauty.  You  are  joined  to  a  prince 
who  only  could  deserve  you  i 
whose  conduct,  courage,  and  suc- 
cess in  war,  whose  fidelity  to  his 
loyal  brother,  whose  love  for  his 
country,  whose  constancy  to  his 
friends,  whose  bounty  to  hb  ser* 
▼ants,  whose  justice  to  merit, 
whose  inviolable  truth,  and  whose 
magnanimity  in  all  nis  actions, 
seem  to  have  been  rewarded  by 
heavoi  by  the  gift  of  you.  You 
are  never  seen  but  you  are  blest ; 
and  I  am  sure  you  bless  all  those 
who  see  you.'.  • .  ^<  Thus,  madam, 
in  the  midst  of  crowds,  you  reign 
IB  solitude  ;  and  are  adored  with 
the  deepest  veneration,  that  of  si- 
lence. It  is  true,  you  are  above 
idl  mortal  wishes  ;  no  man  desires  ^ 
impossibilities,  because  they  are 
beyond  the  reach  of  nature.  To 
hope  to  be  a  god,  is  folly  exalted 
into  madness  ;  but  by  the  laws  of 
our  creaticm,  we  are  obliged  to 
adore  him,  and  are  permitted  to 
love  him  at  human  distance.  It 
b  the  nature  of  perfection  to  be 
attractive,  but  the  excellency  of 
the  object  refines  the  nature  of  the 
Vol.  m.    No.  1.  O 


love.  It  strikes  an  impression  of 
awful  reverence  ;  it  is  indeed  that 
love  which  is  more  properly  a 
zeal  than  passion.  It  is  the  rap* 
ture  which  anchorites  find  in  pray- 
er, when  a  beam  of  the  Divinity 
shines  upon  them  ;  that  whicb 
makes  them  despise  all  worldlf 
objects ;  Bsad  yet  it  is  all  but  con« 
templation.  They  are  seldom 
visited  from  above  ;  but  a  single 
vision  so  transports  them,  that  it 
makes  up  the  happiness  of  their 
lives.' . . .  .<  But  all  my  praises  are 
but  as  a  bull-rush  cast  upon  a 
stream  ;  if  they  sink  not,  it  is  be^ 
cause  they  are  borne  up  by  the 
ciirrent,  which  supports  their 
lightness  ;  but  they  are  carried 
round  again,  and  return  on  the 
eddy  where  they  first  began.  F 
can  proceed  no  farther  than  your 
beauty ,and  even  oh  that  too  I  have 
said  so  little,  considering  the 
greatiKss  of  the  subject,  that,  like 
him  who  would  lodge  a  bowl  upon 
a  precipice,  either  my  praise  falls 
back  by  the  weakness  of  the  deliv^ 
ery,  or  stays  not  on  the  top,  but 
rolls  over,  and  is  lost  on  the  other 
ride/ 

la  a  tea  conve'rsadon,  at  thci 
house  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds^ 
speaking  of  Percy's  reliques  of  an- 
cient English  poetry.  Dr.  Johnson 
ridiculed  that  kind  of  writing,  by 
addressing,  extempore,  the  follow- 
ing stanzas^to  the  young  lady  that 
made  the  tea : 

I  pray  thee,  gentle  aennf,  dear* 

That  thoo  wilt  ^Tc  to  me. 
With  cream  and  aagar  tempered  weUt 

Another  dbh  of  tea. 

Mtf  fear  that  I,  my  gentle  maU, 

Shall  long  detain  the  cu^, 
When  once  «nto  the  bottom  I 

iUjrc  drank  the  Uqnor  up. 

YeHiear  at  Uwt  thli  monmltsl  toith« 

Nor  hear  k  with  a  frown. 
Thon  cantt  not  make  the  tea  m  ChS 

^  I  «MI  gilj^  It  dtWB. 


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t6 


BXTRACTS  FROM  MADO(*f. 


ihiV  ly 


POETRY, 


KZTIACTS   /kOM  « 

SOUTHErs   MADOC. 

AS  he  fpake,  I  fatr 
lite  clouds  bang  thick  amd  heavy  o'e^ 

the  deep  ; 
And  heavily,  upon  the  long 'flow  fwell, 
The  ve0el  lab^oured  on  the  labouring  fea. 
The  reef-p<»Dtf  sattkd  on  the  ihivering 

faS, 
At  fits,  the  fnciden  guO  howled  ominous, 
Anon,  with  unremitting  fury  raged  % 
High  rolled  the  mighty  billows,  and  the 

blaft 
Swept    from     their   i&eetM  fides    the 

fliowery  fbzm. 
Vain,  now,  were  all  the  Teamen's  home- 
ward hopes, 
Vain  all  their  flcill !  . .  we  drove  before 

the  Aorm. 
Tis  pleafant,  by  the  cheafful  hearth,  to 

hear 
Of  tempefts,  and  the  dangers  of  the  deep. 
And  paufe  at  times,  and  feel  that  we 

are  fafe ; 
Then  Uften  to  the  perilous  tade  again. 
Add,  with  an   eager  and  fufpended  foul, 
"U^oo  Terror  to  delight  us ;  ..but  to  hear 
The  roaring  of  the  raging  elements, 
To  know  all  human  SlIII,    all    human 

ftrength, 
Avail  not ;  to  look  rounds  and  only  fee 
The  mountain  wave  incumbent,  with  its 

weight 
Qf  buriUng  waters,o'er  the  reeling  bark,.. 
O  God^  this  is  indeed  a  dreadful  thing ! .  t 
And  he  who  hath  endured  the  horrour, 

once. 
Of  fuch  an  hour,  doth  never  heaf  the 

(lorm 
Ifowl  round  his^  home,  but  he  remem- 
bers it. 
And  thinks  upon  the  fuffcring  mariner ! 

And  now  the  orient   fky 
CioWed  With  the  ruddy  morning,  wnen 

the  Prince 
Came  to   the    field.    He  lifted    up  his 

voice. 
And  Hiouted,  Madoc  !  Madoc!  They 

who  heard 
The  cry,  aftoniflied,  turned  ;  and  when 

they  faw  ^ 

llitf  countenance  his  open  helm  diflbfed 
They  echoed,  Madoc  !  Madoc!  Through 

the  hoft 
Spread  the  miraculous  joy,^.  •  He  lives ! 

he  lives ! 


He  coi^es  hitfifelf  in  arms  !  . .  Lincoy^ 

heard. 
As  he  had  raifed  his  arm  to  (h-ike  a  fbew 
And  ibyed  the  ftroke,  and  thnifl  him  ofl!^ 

and  cried, 
Go,  tell  the  tidings  to  thy  countrymen^ 
Madoc  is  in  the  war !    Tell  them  his  Gga 
Hath  fet  the  White  Xing  free  !  Aflon- 

iihment 
Seixed  on  the  Azteca  ;  on  all  who  heard^ 
Amaaement.  and  difmay;    and   Madoc 

now 
Stood  in  the  foremoA  battle,  and  hit 

fword, . .  . 
His  own  good  fword, .  .  flafhed,  like  the 

'fudden  death 
Of  lightning,  in  their  eyes. 

The  King  of  Aztlan 
Heard  and  beheld,  and  in  his  noble  hearf 
Heroick  hope  arofe.    Forward  he  moved. 
And,  in  the  ibock  of  battle,  front  ta 

front, 
Encountered  Madoc.     A  Arong  Aatuiv 

ed  man 
Coanocot2in  Aood,  one  well  Vrho  kne^ 
The  ways  of  war,  and  never  yet,  in  fight, 
Aled  found  an  equal  foe.    Adown  hie 

back 
Hung  the  long  robe  of  feathered  royalty^ 
Gold  fenced  his  arms  and  legs ;  upon  hie 

helm 
A  fcntptured  fnalce  protends  the  arrowy 

tongue ; 
Around,  a  coronet  of  plumes  arofe. 
Brighter  than  beam  the  rainbow  huet 

of  light. 
Or  than  the  evening  glories,  which  the 

fun 
Slants  oVr  the  moving  many-colouredf 

Such  thetr  furpafling  beauty  ;  bells  oi 

gold  •^ 

Smbofled  his    glittering    helmet,    and 

#here*er 
Their  found  was  heard,  there  lay  th< 

prefs  of  war,  , 
And  Death  was  bufieA  there.    6ver  th<f 

breaft. 
And  o'er  the  golden  breaftplate  of  the 

King, 
A  feathery  cuirafs,  beautiful  to  ere, 
jLight  as  the  robe  of  peace,  yet  Aron^ 

to  fave  ; 
For  the    fliarp  falchion^s  baffled  edgtf 

would  glide 
From  its  fmooth  foftnefs.    On  his  artK 

•he  held 
A  buckleri  overlaid  with  beaten  goMk 


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EXTRACTS  FROM  MA DOC, 


«r 


ikfid  fo  lie  ftood,  guarding  his  thighs  The  deadening  force,  commnnicated,  p^ 

and  legs  Up  bis  fhinned  arm ;   anon,  upon  hi^ 
lik  bread  and  flioulders  alfio,  with  fha  helm, 

length  Crashing  it  came  ;. .  his  eyes  fhot  £re,  hU 
Of  his  broad  fliield.  brain 

Swam  dizzy,.,  he  recoils^  .he  r^els^  .agai^ 

Ofipofed  in  mail  complete.  The  club  defcends; 
ISCDod  Madoc  in  his  ftrepgth.    The  flfexi- 

ble  chains  That  danger  to  himfelf 

Gave  play  to  his  lull  mofcles,  and  dif-  Recalled  the  jLord  of  Ocean.     On  ht 

played  fprung. 

How  broad  hit  ihoulden,  and  his  ample  Within  the  falling  weapon's  curve  of 

breaft.  -    death, 

Small  was    his  ilueld,  there    broaded  Bhunnrog  JM  fruftrate  dim)  and  bread  to 

where  it  fenced  breaft 

The  well  of  life,  and  gradual  to  a  point  He  grappled  with  the  king.    The  pliant 
I^eflenjng  ;   (leel-flrong,  and  wieidy  in  mail 

his  grafp.  Bent  to  his  ftralning  limbs,  while  platei 

p.  bone  thofe  blazoned  taglets,  at  whofe  .  of  gold, 

%ht,  The  feathery  robe,  the  buckler's  ampli- 
Aloog  the  Marches,  or  where  holy  Dpe  fude, 

Through    Ceftrian    paAures  rojiu  his  Cumbered  the  Azteca,   and   fr«m   hif 

tamer  (beam,  arm. 

So  oft  the  yeoman  had,  in  days  of  yore.  Clenched  in  the  Briton's  mighty  grafp, 
Curiuig  his  perilous  tenure,  wound  th«  at  once 

bom,  ^e  dropt   the  impeding  buckler,  and 
And  warden,  from  the  cadle-tower,  run^  Let  fall 

out  The  ^unfaftened  clubj  which,  when  thf 
The  loud  a'»arnm*bell,heard  far  and  widtf.  Prince  belield, 

Upon  his  hehn  no  fculptured  dragon  fate.  He  thruft  him  off,  ;in4,  drawing  back, 
Sate  no  fantaftick  terrors ;  a  white  plume  refumed 

l«foddadabove,far-feen,  floating  like  foam  The  fword,  which  from  his  wrift  fuf^ 
•On  the  war-tempeft.    Man  to  man  they  pended  hung, 

^  flood.  And  twice  he  fmote  the  king  ;  twice 
The  King  of  Aztlan  and  the  Ocean  Chief.  from  the  quilt 

Of  plumes  the  iron  glides ;  and  lo  I  the 
King, 

,     ,  ,    ,  So  well  his  foldiers  Watched  tbpir  mouv 

hath  watched  arch's  need 

'^^  ™'^^  IJghtnings  of  the  fummer  g^akc;  in  his  hand'a  fpear, 
-That,  with  their  aweful  blaze,  irradiate  But  now  a  cry 

heaven,  .  ,    ,  ^        .  ,  fiurft  on  the  ear  of  MadOc,  and  he  faw 

Then  leave  a   bbcker  night  ?  fo  quick.  Through  opcHing  ranks,  where   Uric^ 

lo  fierce,  \^  conveyed 

na(hed   Madoc's  fword,  which,  like  the  ^        t;^^  ,^  j^j,  J^^^.^    Cricf,  then,an4 


Faft,  on  the  intervening  buckler,  fell 
The   Aztcca's  ftofle    faulchion.       Who 


ferpcnt's  tongue, 
3eemed  double,  in  its  rapid  whirl  of  light. 
jUnequal  arms !  for  on  the  Britifli  (hield 
Availed  not  the  gone  faiilcbionV  brittle 

edge. 
And  in   the    golden  buckler,  Madoc's 

fword 
fit  deep.    Coanocotzin  faw,  and  dropt 
The  unprofitable  weapon,  and  received 
JCs  ponderous  clii6, . .  that  club,  beneath 

whofe  force, 
Driven  by  his  father's  arm,  Tepollomi 
fhud  fallen  fubdued, . .  and  faft  and  fierce 

he  drove 


fliamc 
And  rage  infpired  him.    With  a  mighty 

blow 
He  cleft  Coanocotzin'shelm ;  expofed 
The  monarch  Aood  ; . .  again  the  tliun* 

der-ftroke 
Came  on  him,  and  he  fell.  . .  The  multir 

tude 
Forgetful  of  their  country  and  ihemi* 

felves. 
Crowd  round  their  dying  King.   Madodi 

whofe  eye 
Still  followed  llrieil,  called  upon  his  men^ 


in,-   «.  ^         •  u.  »ir  J         T-  And,  through  the  broken  army  of  the  foe* 


•tt*« 


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i$ 


MIlfMM  or  VBS 


THE  BOSTON  REVIEW, 

For  JANUARY)  1806. 


tnttm  leg!  tc  qoam  dO^enklniou  potui  umpUrU  jQcob  comttntanda,  qua  CThnenda,  ar* 
■«r.     Nam  ego  dicere  veram  anncTl.     Neqoe  luU  paticnttat  ceprebenduntura  quam  qaK 
laudail  mereotur.^— Pttoy.  r 


esdn^.  To  the  Memoirs  ia  pre* 
fixed  the  act  of  incorporation ;  and 
^so  the  statutes  of  the  Academyt 
a  list  of  memberSf  and  donors 
ivith  their  respective  benefactions. 
Then  follows  ^  pHiLoaopHicAi. 
DISCOURSE,  fiubHckly  addressed  to 
the  Academy  ^y  ^*^  ^rst  Pres^ 
dent,  the  fumottrable  James  Bow- 
DOiN,  Esq.  on  /Us  Jirst  election  tor 
that  office. 

The  learned  and  excellent  prer 
sident,  after  some  remarks  on  the 
social  affections,  and  their  opera* 
tibn  in  forming^  societies  of  varif 
OMs  desiicriptions,  observes,  in  the 
spirit  of  true  pliilosophy,  with  re* 
spect  to  the  American  FMioso/ifdcal 
Society,  which  had  been  previously 
formed,  and  the  American  Academy 
of  Arts  and  Sciences,  « it  Js  hoped» 
that,  as  optic  glasses,  by  collecting 
th^  solar  rays,  do  assist  and 
strengthen  tKe  corporeal  sight,  so 
the  ^wo  societies,  by  concentring 
in  a  proper  focus  the  scattered 
rays  of  science,  may  aid  and  in- 
vigorate the  intellectual:  benefit: 
ing  by  their  production?,  not  only 
Jhe  communities,  ipi  which  they 
are  respectively  instituted,  but 
America  and  the  world  in  genesal  i 
both  together  resembling  some  co- 
pious river,  whose  branches,  after 
^freshing  the  neighbouring  re- 
gion, unite  their  waters  for  tke  fer- 
tilizing a  more  extensive  country.** 

He  afterward  takes  a  cursory 
view  of  the  antiquities  of  America, 
and  of  natural  history,  two  of  the 
subjects,  to  which  the  inquiries  of 
the  Academy  are  particularly  di- 
rected by  the  actof  incorpora^tioiik'; 


4RTICLE   1. 

Memw's  of  the  American  Academy 
qf  Arts  and  Sciences.  Fof.  /, 
1785.  4to.  fifi.  56%. 

It  is  honourable  to  Massachusetts, 
that  in  the  yea*  1780,  in  the  midst 
of  the  memorable  war,  which  ter- 
minated in  the  establishment  of 
the  in4ependence  of  the  United 
States,  the  American  Academy  of 
Arts  and  Sciences  was  mcorpora- 
ted  by  her  enlightened  legislature. 
According  to  the  act  of  incorpor- 
ation, "  The  end -said  design  of  .the 
institution  of  the '  academy  is,  to 
promote  and  encourage  the  knowlr 
edge  of  the  antiquities  of  Ameri- 
ca, and  of  the  natural  history  of 
the  country  ^  and  to  determine  th.e 
■uses  to  which  the  various  natural 
productions  of  ]thp  country  may 
be  applied;  to  promote  and  en- 
courage medical  discoveries,  ix^ath- 
cmatical  disquisitions,  philosoph- 
ical inquiries  and  experiments  ; 
astrojnomical,  meteorological  and 
geographical  observations  ;  and, 
improvemcius  in  agriculture,  arts, 
manufectures  and  commerce ;  and 
in  fine,  to  cultivate  ^very  art  and 
science,  which  msiy  tend  to  ad- 
•'rance  the  interest,  honour,  dignity 
mnd  happines  of  a  free,  independ; 
cnt  and  virtuous  people." 

In  prosecuting  the  object  of 
their  institution,  the  Society  has 
presented  to  the  publick  in  this  vol- 
taSke,  the  first  fruits  of  their  leam- 
4Bdlaboura.  The  time,  that  has 
elapsed  since  the  publication,  will 
'»ot,  we  hope,  render  a  review  of 
|bc  comets  uacless  nor  uninter- 


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ASfERXCAtf  ACADEMT. 


fit 


Aodces  the  benefits,  which  the  pub- 
Ikk  has  deriyed  from  Harvard  Col- 
lege ;  pays  a  tribute  of  gratitude  to 
the  generous  benefactors  of  that 
institutiony  and  addres^ses  to  their 
c&embodied  spirits  the  effusions 
of  a  heart,  strongly  impressed  with 
fi  Tiew  of  the  great  and  extensive 
good,  ansing  froi^i  their  donations. 
Looking  forward  to  the  end  of  a 
century  fro^  the  declaration  of 
indepeiHience,  he  gives  a  character 
of  the  Academy,  to  which  he 
hopes  it  will  then  be  entitled  in  the 
mges  of  some  eminent  An\erican 
historian. 

The  liberal  spirit,  that  animates 
the  societ7,appears  in  the  following 
extract.  «iV?  ^^  society  is  formed 
Km  the  most  liberal  principles,and  jls 
of  no  sect  or  party  in  philosophy, 
it  wide  extends  its  ar/ns  to  en^brace 
fhc  sons  of  science  of  every  de- 
DomioatiQn,and  wheresoever  fouQd; 
and  with  the  warmth  of  fraternal 
affection  invites  them  to  a  philor 
sophical  correspondence :  apd  they 
may  be  assured,  their  communicar 
lions  will  be  esteemed  a  favour,  ^ 
and  duly  acknowledged  by  the  So- 
ciety." 

This  discourse  appears  to  How 
fixwn  a  mind,  correct,  reflecting, 
well  informed ;  and  from  a  heart, 
warm  with  benevolence,  patriotism, 
love  of  science,  and  engaged  in 
promoting  the  best  interests  pf 
society. 
Part  I.     Astronomical  anq 

MATHEMATICAL   PAPERS. 

/.  ^  method  of  finding  the  aU 
tkude  and  lan^tude  of  the  nona* 
gedmai  degree  of  the  ecUfitic  ;  with 
en  aft/tcndiry  containing  calcujationa 
from  eorreBfiondhig  astronomical  ob* 
iervalioTu^  for  determining  the  diff 
ference  of  meridians  between  Har- 
vard'Hall^  in  the  Umversity  of 
Cambridge^  in  the  commonwealth  qf 
Massachusetts^  and  the  royal  ob' 
tarvqtorics  at  C-'cenwitlh  and  Fftrii, 


By  the  Rev.  Jose/ih  ff^llardy  fireS" 
ident  of  the  Untversityy  and  corres* 
ponding  secretary  of  the  .American 
Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences, 

Previous  knowledge  of  the  alti- 
tude and  longitude  of  the  nonages- 
imal  degree  of  the  ecliptick  is  re- 
quisite in  determining  the  diurnal 
parallaxes  of  the  heavoily  bodies, 
belonging  to  the  solar  system,  in 
latitude  and  longitude.  Such  par^ 
allaxes  are  necessarily  used  in  de* 
ducing  the  longitude  of  places  from 
corresponding  observations  of  so* 
lar  eclipses,  as  well  as  in  various 
other  astronomical  calculations. 
The  late  learned  and  excellent 
president  of  our  university  has,  in 
this  memoir,  given  a  method  of 
finding  the  altitude  and  longitude 
of  the  nonagesimal  degree,  which 
he  thinks  is  not  only  different 
from,  but  to  him  easier,  if  not 
shorter  than  any  other,  with  which 
he  was  acquainted.  The  method 
is  explained  with  perspicuity,  and 
illustrated  by  an  example  and  suit- 
able figures  (  and  may  be  easiljr 
understood  by  those,  who  are  ac« 
quainted  with  the  stereographick 
projection  of  the  sphere,  and  sphe- 
rick  trigonometry. 

In  the  appendix,  rules  are  given 
for  calculating  the  difference  of 
meridians  from  corresponding  ob- 
servations of  solar  eclipses ;  and 
they  are  exemplified  in  determin- 
ing the  longitude  of  Cambridge 
from  the  celebrated  royal  obser- 
vatories of  Greenwich  and  PariSf 
Of  the  calculations  by  solar  and 
lunar  tables,  in  which  Mayer's 
were  used,  it  was  deemed  sufficient 
to  publish  .  merely  the  results,  or 
particular  elements,  requisite  in 
the  subsequent  parts  of  the  pror 
jcess.  The  principles  and  rules, 
stated  in  the  appendix,  are  well 
^exemplified.  It  was  evidently  the 
intention  of  the  author 4o  render 
this  method  of  finding  lor-^itud^ 


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MEMOIRS  OF  THB 


easy  to  the  apprehension  of  those, 
who,  not  having  made  m^^ch  pro- 
gress in  subjects  of  this  nature, 
^re  yet  disposed  and  qualified  to 
attend  to  them ;  and  it  may  with 
propriety  be  recommended  to  their 
perusal. 

The  longitude  of  Cambridge  is 
4educed,  from  observations  of  two 
polar  eclipses  and  one  transit  of 
mercury  over  the  sun's  disc.  The 
first  of  these  eclipses  happened 
Aug.  5,  1766;  the  other,  June  ^4, 
1778  ;  and  the  transit  of  Mercury, 
Nov.  5,  1743.  The  observations 
used  are  those  of  tlie  beginning 
find  end*  of  the  tw-o  eclipses  by 
Dr.  Maskelyne,  the  British  royal 
astronomer,  at  Greenwich  ;  the 
(Jieginuing  and  end  of  the  former 
J>y  Dr.  Winthrop  at  Cambridge, 
and  the  end  of  tlie  latter  by  the 
Rev.  Phillips  Payson  at  Chelsea, 
26*'  in  time  eastward  from  Cam- 
bridge, according  to  a  terrestrial 
measurement,  made  by  President 
Willard  and  Mr.  Payson  ;  and  the 
•observations  of  the  first  and  second 
ptemal  and  the  second  external 
contacts  of  Mercury,  at  the  said 
transit,  by  some  eminent  French 
astronomers  at  Paris  ;  and  the  sc^ 
cond  internal  and  external  contacts 
by  Dr.  Winthrop  at  Cambridge. 
The  mean  of  the  results  of  these 
calculations,  wliich  appear  to  have 
been  made  with  great  accuracy, 
gives  4h.  44^  SI*'  *  for  the  lon^i- 

•  On  the  60th  page  the  difTerence  of 
pncridians  between  Pans  and  Greenwich 
It  considered  as  9<  16^  in  time.  This  Is 
the  difference  according  to  the  Tables  of 
M.  De  La  Lande,  in  thp  second  edition 
of  his  Astronomic,  published  in  1771. 
But  later  observations  have  ^own  it  to 
be  9'  SO*'.  The  difference  therefore  be- 
ing called  9^20"  instead  of  9^  16^  the  a- 
bove  mean  refult  becomes  4h.  44'  29*. 
The  mean  of  the  three  results  in  the  Me- 
pioir  and  that  of  observations  on  the  so- 
lar eclipse  of  April  S,  179tl,i8  4h.  44? 
28*,  which  is  now  con*idered  u  tii*  Un' 


tude  of  Cambridge  in  time  ^vres^ 
ward  from  Greenwich. 

//.  jI  memoir  on  the  latitude^  of 
the  University  at  Cambridge :  l^ifh 
obeervationa  of  the  variation  and 
dip,  of  the  magnetic/:  needle.  ^y 
Samuel  WilUams,  F.A.  A.  JFToOU 
firofessor  of  mathematicks  and  naf'^ 
ural  philosophy  in  the  untvertitt/. 

This  memoir  contains  the  ob^ 
serrations    and    calculations,     bjr 
which  the  author  determined  the 
Jatitude  of  Cambridge.    For  this 
purpose  meridian  altitudes  of  th^ 
sun,  six  stars  near  the  equator,  and 
the  pole-star,  were  observed  in  the 
philosophy  chamber  In  Harvartl 
hall  with  an  astronomical  quadrant 
of  a  radius,  equal  to  2^  feet,  made 
by  Sisson.     The  meaft  of  the  re*- 
sults  from  observations  of  the  atari 
is  42*>  23'  28*'  north,    which,  he 
concludes,  is  the  true  latitude   t^ 
Harvard  hall. 

No  mention  is  made  of  the  firm* 
Bess  or  stability  of  the  floor,  on 
which  the  instrument  was  placed. 
It  is  however  of  great  importance, 
that  the  support  of  the  quadrant 
should  be  entirely  secure  from 
motion,  at  the  time  of  piaking  ob- 
servations of  this  kind. 

A  fe^v  facts,  relative  to  the  va^ 
Hation  and  dip  of  the  magnetick 
needle  at  Cambridge,  are  mention- 
ed at  the  close  of  the  memoir. 

///.  A  table  of  the  eguationa  to 
e^ual  altitudes^  for  the  latitude  of 
the  Umvcrsify  of  Cambridge^  42* 
2o'  28"  JV.  with  an  qccount  of  its 
construction  and  use.  By  ttie  Reru^ 
crend  Joseph  IVtUardj  I^resident  of 
tfie  University. 

The  importance  of  regulating  a 
clock,  that  is  to  be  used  in  making 
astronomical  *  obsei*vations,  or  de- 
termining the  rate  of  its  motion) 
is  well  known  to  astronomers.  In 
this  memoir  is  the  method  of  ac» 
complishing  this  purpose  by  oU 


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iiiEsic&ir  xcAJititt. 


€t 


lernng  equal  or  coircsponcfing  al- 
titudes of  xhe  sun,  which  is  gen- 
erally used  by  astronomers,   who 
have  not   an    observatory.      The 
reason  of  applying  a  correction  to 
^  middle  point  between  the  times 
of  the  forenoon  and  afternoon  ob- 
senradons,  in  order  to  obtain  the 
GTie  noon,  is  clearly  shown  by  a 
stereographick  projection.     Also 
the  manner  of  obtaining  the  equa- 
tion by  the  solution  of  two  spherick 
^tangles  is  e^cplained.     And  then 
Wales'  formula  for  determining 
this  equadon  is  given  and  exem- 
plified.    By  this  formula  the  table 
vas  constructed.     It  contains  the 
equations  in  seconds  and  thirds 
fcr  the  latitude  of    42<'   23'   28" 
Borth,  the  arguments  being  the 
half  interval  between  the  times  of 
Qibserration  and  the  sun's  longi-^ 
tade.      Small  equations  are  also 
sibjoined,  by  the  addition  or  sub- 
traction  of  which  the    equations 
hi  the  table  may  be   adapted  to 
any  northern  lautude  between  40* 
tS'  28**  and  44«»  23^  28^ 

IF,  ABtronGtrdcal  observational 
node  in  the  state  of  Massachusetts, 
tSy  Professor  Williams, 

The  observations  and  deductions 
tontained  in  this  memoir,  relate 
to  nine  lunar  and  four  solar  eclip-* 
ses,  one  transit  of  Venus,  and  two 
transits  of  Mercury.  Two  of  the 
hmar  eclipses,  namely,  those  of 
November  12,  1761,  and  March 
17,  1764,  were  observed  at  Walth^ 
am.  The  rest,  he  remarks,  were 
lil  that  could  be  observed  in  this 
part  of  America  from  Jan.  1, 1770, 
to  Jan .  1 ,  1 7 84.  The  obseiTadons 
of  four  lunar  and  two  solar  eclip-' 
les,  which  happened  within  this 
period  before  October  1 780,  were 
nsdde  at  Bradford.  To  view  the 
tolar  ecfipse  of  October  27,  1780, 
Irhich  arrested  much  attention,  a 
Mtkm  was  taken  on  the  east  side 


of  Long  Island  in  Penobscot  Bay, 
where  it  was  liearly  total.  Sev-' 
eral  gentlemen,  belonging  to  the 
university,  accompanied  Professor 
Williams,  whose  observations  he 
relates.  When  viewing  the  sub- 
sequent eclipses,  namely  three  of 
the  moon  and  two  of  the  sun,  he 
was  at  Cambridge,  and  some  otliei* 
gentlemen,  connected  with  the 
university,  were  associated  with 
him  on  these  interesting  occasions^ 
and  in  addition  to  his  own  he  has 
published  their  observations. 

The  transit  of  Venus  over  the 
sun  the  3d  of  June,  1769,  was  ob- 
served at  Newburyport ;  and  that 
of  Mercury  the  9th  of  Nov.  1769, 
at  Salem.  When  a  transit  of  Mer- 
cury happened  the  12th  of  Nov. 
1782,  Professor  Williams  being  at 
Cambridge,  he  and  two  other  gen-« 
tlemen  of  the  university  in  com- 
pany with  him  observed  this  curi*- 
ous  phenomenon.  Some  deduc- 
tions from  the  observations,  they 
made,  conclude  this  memoir,  which 
contains  many  important  facts^ 
ascertained  with  care  and  ability* 
To  be  contiiiuedi 


ART4  2. 

RefiOrt  of  the  tiial  of  the  Hon: 
Samuel  Chasey  one  of  the  asffo* 
ciate  justices  of  the  sufireme  court 
of  the  United  States^  before  the 
high  court  of  imfieachmentj  com- 
fiosed  qf  the  senate  of  the  United 
States^  for  charges  exhibited  c- 
gainst  him  by  the  house  of  reprc* 
sentativesy  in  the  name  of  them' 
selves  and  of  all  the  fieofile  of  the 
United  Statesy  for  high  crimes 
tnd  misdcmeanorsj  supposed  to 
have  been  by  Mm  committed ; 
ivith  the  necessary  documents  and 
official  fio/iersy  from  his  impeach* 
ment  to  final  acquittal.  Taken  in 
short  hand  by  Charles  Evans^  and 


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JU90E  chase's  triad. 


ifle  argumentB  qf  toufuel  revised 
by  them  from  his  mantiscrifit. 
Baltimore,  1805.  S.  Butler 
and  J.  Keating. 

Ik  ancient  times,  thef  offices  of 
king  and  judge  were  unked  in  tho 
same  person ;  and  it  is  certainly 
proper,  that  the  father  of  a  nation 
•hoald  be  the  steward  of  its  just- 
ice, to  dispense  it  among  the 
members  of  his  family.  But  ex-^ 
perience  proved,  that  the  union  of 
the  original  branches  of  govern-' 
ment,  in  the  same  person,  tended 
to  despotism,  and  that  a  magis-* 
trate,  with  such  prerogatives,  was 
too  apt,  in  the  plenitude  of  his 
power,  to  forget  their  legitimate 
object.  The  wisdom  of  most 
modern  legislators  has  therefore 
separated  the  legislative,  the  ex- 
ecutive, and  judicial  departments, 
to  the  end  that  their  systems  may 
be  <'  governments  of  laws,  and  not 
of  men."  Of  these  departments, 
the  most  vulnerable  is  the  judicia- 
ry, and  therefore  it  ought  to  be 
«nost  strongly  fortified  by  publick 
favour.  Any  wanton  attack  on  its 
ihdependence,  any  thing  malicious- 
ly contrived  to  intimidate  a  judge 
In  the  exercise  of  his  office,  or  to 
lessen  the  confidence  of  the  people 
in  his  wisdom  or  integrity,  is  a 
crime  against  .the  state.  This  of- 
fence assumes  a  more  terrific  form, 
"If  hen  it  is  committed  by  either  of 
the  co-ordinate  branches  of  the 
^vemment,  because  of  the  great- 
ness of  the  oppressor  and  the  ex- 
tensiveness  of  the  mischief.  A 
£rm  and  an  independent  judiciary 
is  the  greatest  security  against 
that  spirit  of  accommodation, 
which  varies  according  to  times 
and  political  occasions.  Tyranny 
inay  exist  under  any  form  of  gov- 
ernment. The  voice  of  experi- 
ence has  proclaimed  this  truth,  and 
Aould  warn  the  advocates  for  th0 


republican  system,  not  to  be 
confident  of  its  superior  excellence* 
For  whatever  may  be  its  perfectioo 
in  the  visions  of  theory,  we  kno'vr 
that  it  is  liable  to  be  disturbed  by 
the  whirlwinds  of  party  rage,  and 
that,  in  such  commotions,  the  ^reat 
and  the  good,  who  are  always  the 
most  conspicuous  objects  of  popu- 
lar envy,  are  the  first  victims  of 
popular  madness. 

No  event  of  a  domestick  nature 
has,  since  the  adoption  of  the  fed^ 
eral  constitution,  ^xcited   In  the 
United  States  a  more  universal  in-^ 
terest,  than  the  impeachment   of 
Judge  Chase.     It  is  not  for  us  to 
arraign  the   motives   of  the  tri-' 
umpbant  majority  in  the  house  of 
representatives,  who  voted  in  fav-^ 
our  of  that  measure.  But  whether 
the  charges  against   that  citizen 
were  well  founded,  or  Tthether  po- 
lidcal  intolerance,  rather  than   a 
regard  for  the  pure  administration 
of  equal  laws,  led  to  that  prosecu* 
tion,  will  appear  from  an  examine- 
tion  of  the  volume  before  us.    We 
would  however  confide  in  the  wis- 
dom and  integrity  of  the  constitut- 
ed authorities  of  our  country ;  and 
we  wish  to  believe,  that  their  con- 
duct always  results  from  patriotick 
principles,  far  exalted  id>ove  any 
views  of  private  interest  or  party 
rage. 

The  book  is  well  worthy  the  at- 
tention of  the  law  student,  as  it 
contains  an  exhibition  of  judicial 
proceedings,  and  much  learning  on 
the  law  of  impeachment,  and  as  it 
will  stand  as  a  precedent  for  future 
times.  The  course  of  proceedings 
at  this  trial  was  similar  to  that  in 
cases  of  impeachment  in  Great- 
Britain.  Great  formality  was 
observed  throughout  the  scene, 
suited  to  the  dignity  of  the  court, 
and  to  the  solemnity  of  the  occa- 
sion. After  the  reading  of  the 
articles  of  impeachment  and  the 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


JtDGE   CHASE'k   TfelAX. 


%3 


■Wiswcr  6f  the  respondent,  the  tnan^ 
a^rs  proceeded  upon  the  whole 
of  the  charges,  before  the  latter 
^as  permitted  to  enter  on  his  de- 
fence. When  the  evidence  was 
gone  through,  and  the  arguments 
for  and  against  the  prosecution 
closed,  the  question  was  put  to 
each  member  of  the  court  on  each 
article  separately.  We  shall 
briefly  analyze  the  articles  of  im- 
peachment and  the  respondent's 
answer.  The  importance  of  the 
subject  will  justify  the  attention 
which  we  shall  pay  to  its  exposi* 
tion. 

I.  The  first  article  charges 
Judge  Chase  with  arbitrary,  op- 
pressive, and  unjust  conduct  on 
the  trial  of  John  Fries  for  high 
treason,  before  the  circuit  court 
of  the  United  States  for  the  dis- 
trict of  Pennsylvania,  in  1 800  :  I. 
In  delivering  an  opinion  in  writing 
on  the  question  of  law,  on  the  con- 
struction of  which  the  prisoner's 
defence  materially  depended,  be- 
fore counsel  had  been  heard  in  his 
defence.  2.  In  restricting  the 
counsel  for  Fries  from  recurring 
to  such  English  authorities,  and 
from  citing  certain  statutes  of  the 
United  States,  which  they  thought 
fevourable  to  his  defence.  And  3. 
In  debarring  the  prisoner's  counsel 
from  addressing  the  jury  on  the 
kw,  as  well  as  on  the  fact,  which 
was  to  determine  his  innocence  or 
guilt.  In  consequence  of  which 
conduct,  Fries  was  deprived  of  the 
rijjht  of  a  fair  trial,  and  was  con- 
demned to  death)  without  having 
been  heard  by  counsel. 

II.  The  second  article  alleges 
against  the  Judge,  that  at  a  circuit 
court,  held  at  Richmond,  in  1800, 
on  the  arraignment  of  one  James 
Thompson  Callender^  indicted  for 
a  Hbel  on  John  Adams,  then  pres- 
ident of  the  United  States,  he  over- 
tuled  the  objection  of  one  of  the 

Voi.  IIL   No.  I.  E 


jury,  who  wished  to  be  excused 
from  serving  on  the  trial,  becausd 
he  had  niade  up  his  mmd  as  to  the 
publication. 

III.  For  not  permitting  the  evi-* 
dence  of  John  Taylor,  a  material 
witness  for  C?illender,  to  be  ^ivcn 
in,  because  his  testimony  would 
not  substantiate  the  truth  of  the 
whole  of  one  of  the  charges  in  the 
indictment,  although  it  embraced 
more  than  one  fact. 

IV.  For  manifesting,during  the 
whole  of  the  said  trial,  injustice^ 
partiality ,and  intemperance  :  I .  In 
compelling  the  counsel  for  tlie 
prisoner  to  reduce  to  writing  all 
questions,  which  they  meant  to 
propoimd  to  Mr.  Taylor.  2.  In  re- 
fusing to  postpone  the  trial,  on  aa 
affidavit  of  the  absence  of  a  materi- 
al witness  in  behalf  of  the  accused. 
S.  In  using  unusual,  rude  and  con- 
temptuous expressions  towards  the 
prisoner's  counsel.  4.  In  repeat- 
edly and  vexatiously  interrupting 
them,  so  that  they  wefe  obliged  ta 
abandon  their  cause  and  their  cli- 
ent, who  was  thereupon  convicted  ^ 
and,  5.  In  manifesting  an  indecent 
solicitude  for  the  convictioa  of  th& 
accused.' 

V.  In  awarding  a  capias,  instead^ 
of  a  summons,  against  Callender, 
whereby  his  body  was  arrested^ 
contrary  to  the  law  of  Virginia^ 
which,  according  to  a  law  of  the 
United  States,  should  have  regula- 
ted the  process^ 

VL  In  ruling  and  adjudging  Cal- 
lender  to  trial,  during  the  term,  at 
which  he  was  presented  and  in- 
dicted, contrary  to  the  law  of  Vir- 
ginia. 

VIL  The  seventh  article  al-s 
leges  against  Judge  Xhase,  .that 
at  a  circuit  court  of  the  United 
States,  for  the  district  of  Dela- 
ware, in  1800,  he  refused  to  dis-» 
charge  the  grand  jury  at  their  re- 
quest, though  they  had  fpund  ua 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


«« 


Jtr»«>  chase's  TRXAl^l 


kills  of^indictment ;  thst  he  stooped 
to  tlie  level  of  an  informer,  by  ob-^ 
serving  to  the  said  jury,  that  a  se- 
ditious temper  had  been  manifested 
&i  the  state  of  Delaware,  which  had 
been  inflamed  by  the  ptiblicatioi^ 
in  a  certain  paper,  called  the  «  Mir- 
for  of  the  Times  and  General  Ad- 
vertiser,'* and  that  he  at  the  same 
time  recomittended  to  the  district 
attorney  to  procure  a  file  of  the  pa- 
pers, and  select  from^  them  some- 
^iiBg  for  the  ground  of  a  prosecu- 
tion. 

VIII.  The^  eighth  and  last  ar- 
licit  charges,  that  at  a  circuit 
court  of  the  United  States,  for 
the  district  of  Maryland,  in  1803, 
he  delivered  to  the  grand  jury  an 
intemperate,  imflammator)',  and 
political  harangue,  with  intent  to 
excite  their  fears  against  the  state 
govemmentf  and  adso  that  he  de- 
livered to  them  indecent  and  exti'a- 
judicial  opinions. 

Judge  Chase,  havmg  been  sum-- 
vioned  to  answer  to  the  foregoing 
articles  of  impeachment,  appeared 
€>n  the  2d  Jtmuary,  1805,  before 
the  senate  of  the  United  States, 
^en  constituting  the  high  court 
ef  inopeachment.  The  senate 
assembled  in  their  usual  place  of 
2)Aeeting,  which  had  beea  prepar* 
cd,  in  an  elegant  style,  for  the  se8«> 
skm  of  a  court  of  justice.  Being 
informed  by  Mr.  Burr,  the  presi- 
dent, that  the  senate  were  ready 
to  receive  any  answer,  which  he 
had  to  offer  to  the- articles  of  im- 
peachment, Judge  Chase  moved 
to  be  allowed  un^  the  first  day  of 
the  next  session  of  congress,  to 
put  in  his  answer,  and  to  prepare 
himself  for  trial.  This  motion 
was  prefaced  by  a  speech  of  some 
length,  in  which  he  expressed  a 
desire,  to  prepare  an  answer  to 
the  articles,  which  should  contain 
a  view  of  the  whole  merits  of  his 
defence.  The  charges  embraced 
events,  which  happened  in  various 


parts  of  the  union,  and  at  distant 
periods  of  time.  As  the  answer 
must  disclose  the  whole  defence, 
and  as  the  defence  must  be  confin- 
ed to  the  matters  stated  in  the  an* 
swer,  much  time  was  requisite  for 
the  necessary  preparation.  He 
was  to  defend  his  name  and  his 
honour,  and  in  some  sense  tlie 
honour  of  the  judiciary.  The 
court  did  not  grant  the  request  in 
its  full  extent,  but,  in  consequence 
of  this  application,  the  4th  P'eb- 
following' was  assigned  for  receiv-^ 
ing  ittc  answei',  and  for  pi-oceeding 
on  the  trial. 

On  that  day,  Judge  Chase  pra-- 
duced  the  answer,  on  which  ho- 
meant  to  rely  for  his  justificatioil* 
It  contains  "  a  clear,  concise,  and 
authentick  explanation  of  his  con-- 
duct  and  of  his  motives,  support-* 
ed  by  such  a  statement  of  his 
proofs)  as  may  be  extensively 
read,  clearly  understood,  and  easi^ 
ly  remembered."  The  language  is 
glowing  and  nervous,  and  the  ar-* 
guments  urged  with  the  force  of 
a  strong  and  active  intellect.  If  it 
possesses  any  one  pre-eminent- 
tt'ait,  it  is  the  wonderful  fulness, 
with  which  the  respondent  repliea 
to  eveiy  part  of  the  charges^ 
which  allege  against  himy  either 
negl^ence  of  decorum,  or  turpi- 
tude of  heart,  in  the  exercise  of 
liis  ofScial  duty. 

It  will  be  impcBsible,  ih  an  a* 
bfidgment,  to  do  justice  to  this 
masterly  specimen  of  judicial  elo* 
quence.  But  as  we  have  present- 
ed ottr  readers  with  a  view  of 
the  charge,  we  shall  likewise  at^ 
tempt  to  draw  an  outline  of  the 
peply. 

.  I.  In  reply  to  the  first  article 
of'impeachnienty  the  respondent 
admits,  that  the  circuit  court  was 
holden  before  him  and  Richard 
Peters,  Esq.  the  district  judge,  it* 
April,  1800,  within  and  for  the 
district  of  Per.nsylvania.     At  tliis 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


iXJDom  class's  teiai. 


ilo^  Fdes  was  indicted  for 
treason,   and    the    oppion, 
ll^'U  the  subject  of  the  charge, 
>^^  to  the  counsel 

Jk*  ait  {Prisoner,  after  he  was 
tlfj^lii  into  court,  but  before  the 
*"^^  ^-^  was  impannelled  to  try 
lis  was  the  second  tiial 
fii»^  the  same  pf&nce.  At 
tIm  njal,  the  fects  were  fully 
^1  ioid  his  counsel  rested  their  , 
the  question  of  law, 
[i^which  tl\e  respon(3ent 
I  was  on  this  question  ; 
ymf^  li^iit^  resisting  and  prevents 
^  i'}ff  fgficd  toarce  the  execution 
ar  law  of  the  United 
'  levying  of  war  against 
Sta^s,"  according  to 
t.j^eaUDg  of  the  cons^tu- 
[Jyw)  s^mn  decisions,  by 
^'^crso^?^  Peters,  in  the 
land* JWitchell,  and 
jredeQ  s^d  Peters,  ip 
'.  F<ie*,L.tbe  prisoner,  in 
Dts  at  great  lengthy 
idie^eration  of  the 
i  pf^^  h^  been  adjudge 
become  a  pro- 
I  of  equal  or  in- 
With  the 
^<^d^  opinion,  the  res- 
f  ^  consid^ralaon, 
Iu9  own  words, 
^  9f  k  he  should 
[f^und,  even  had 
B  j|K^ei^n  as  doubt* 

>r  commu- 

th^  mc^n- 

t|i;Se  mentioned, 

„   ;    itfehhim- 

Mit^oraty  of  for- 

'ipd  considered  it 

^^'"^  ^uni^essa* 

l^hwas 

fiie.  pen- 

^,'biindred 

(ogv^de- 
tiuitthisor 

9X  fomfffSL^  of  the 


trial,  be  made  known  to  the  jurf, 
and  the  respondent  was  therefore 
further  influenced  to  make  tHs 
communication,  froiji  the  hope  of 
guarding  them  against  any  crro^ 
neous  impression  of  the  law,  sinct 
it  was  their  right  in  this,  as  in  all 
criminal  cases,  to  render  a  general 
verdict  of  acquittal,  which  could 
not  be  set  aside,  although  it  should 
be  contrary  to  law. 

The  respondent  admits,  that,  9t 
the  trial,  he  expressed  the  opinions, 
that  English  decisions  in  cases  of 
treason,  at  common  law,  against 
the  person^  the  king,  ought  not 
to  be  read  to  the  jury,  on  trials  for 
treason  under  the  constitution  and 
statutes  of  the  Umted  States  ;  thaik 
£ngUsh  decisions  on  thissubject, 
prior  to  the  revolution  in  1688, 
ought  to  have  very  little  influence 
in  our  courts ;  that  decisions  since 
that  period,  shewing  what  acta 
have  be^n  considered  as  a  construe* 
tive  levying  of  war  against  the  king 
;in  his  legal  capacity,  were  admis^ 
sible,  but  not  those  against  his  per^ 
son.  Those  opinions  however 
were  not  of  binding  authority  in 
this  country,  but  claimed  respect 
from  their  intrinsick  excellence, 
and  from  the  exalted  legal  estims;* 
tion  of  their  authors. 

The  respondent  insists,  that  it  Is 
thp  right  and  duty  of  the  court, 
"to  *decide  and  direct  what  en- 
dence,  whether  by  j*ecord  or  by 
precedents  of  <lecisions  in  courts 
erf"  justice,  is  pi'oper  to  be  admitted 
for  the  establishment  of  any  mat- 
ter of  law  or  feet.**  He  insists  al- 
so, that  he  can  be  called  in  ques- 
tion oiUy  for  the  correctness  of  his 
motives,  but  he  adouts,  that  cases 
may  be  supjposed,  where  a  judge 
may  have  delivered  ^<  an  opinion 
so  palpably  eiToneous,  unjust,  and 
oppressive,  as  to  preclude  the  pos- 
silnlity  of  its  having  proceeded 
from  ignorance  or  mistake.*' 

II.    In  reply  to  the  charge  90W 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


t3S 


JUDGE   chase's  trial « 


tsined  in  the  second  article,  rela- 
tive to  his  having  over-ruled  the 
objection  of  one  of  the  jury  to 
serve  on  the  trial,  the  respondent 
observes,  that  the  juror  wished  to 
be  excused, "  because  he  had  form- 
ed an  opinion,  that  the  publication, 
called  "  The  Prospect  before  us," 
from  which  the  words  charged  in 
the  indictment  as  libellous,  were 
said  to  have  been  extracted,  but 
which  publication  he  had  never 
seen,  was,  according  to  the  rep? 
resentation  of  it,  which  he  had  re- 
ceived, within  the  sedition  law." 
The  reason,  for  which  a  juror 
should  not  be  permitted  to  serve 
ion  a  trial,  is,  "  that  he  does  not 
stand  indifferent  between  the  par- 
ties." The  juror  in  the  present 
instance  had  neither  expressed  nor 
formed  an  opinion  as  to  the  facts. 
As  he  did  not  know,  whether  the 
contents  of  the  book  were  really 
such  as  had  been  represented  to 
him  ;  whether  they  would  on  trial 
be  proved  to  be  true ;  whether 
Callendcr  was  really  the  author  of 
the  book  ;  or  whether  he  wrote  it 
•with  that  evil  intent,  which  was  al- 
leged in  the  indictment,  he  stood 
indifferent  as  to  the  matter  in  issue 
in  the  legal  and  proper  sense. 

III.  The  evidence  of  John 
Taylor  was  rejected  on  the  follow- 
ing ground.  The  twelfth  charge 
in  the  indictment  contained  these 
"Words.  "  He  (meaning  President 
Adams)  was  a  professed  aristocrat ; 
lie  proved  faithful  and  serviceable 
to  the  British  interest."  Taken 
separately,  they  charge  Mr.  Adams 
"with  no  offence,  and  consequently 
could  not  be  indictable  as  libellous  : 
but  taken  together,  they  intend, 
that  Mr.  Adams,  being  an  enemy 
to  the  republican  government  of 
feis  country,  had  subserved  the 
British  interest  against  the  interest 
of  his  own  country  ;  an  offence 
jboth  moral  and  legal.    The  testi- 


mony of  Col.  Taylor  was  rejected 
on  the  ground,  that  his  evidence 
did  not  go  to  the  whole  matter 
contained  in  this  article.     Each 
count  in  the  indictment  contain e<l 
twenty  independent  charges,     or 
sets  of  words.    Though  one  sland* 
er  more  or  less  in  such  a  publica- 
tion as  "  The  Prospect  before  us,*' 
could  be  of  no  moment ;  yet  as,  on 
legal  principles,  a  plea  of  justifica- 
tion must  always  answer  the  whole 
charge,  or  it  is  bad  on  demurrer, 
and  as  the  same  rule  is  applicable 
to  evidence,  when  the  matter  may 
be  given  in  evidence,  without   a 
formal  plea ;  evidence,  which  went 
to  prove  only  a  part  of  an  entire 
and  indivisible  charge,  was  inad« 
missible,  and  therefore  the  testi- 
mony of  Col.  Taylor  was  rejected. 

IV.  Posterity  will  be  astonish- 
ed, that  it  was  made  an  article  in 
an  impeachment  against  a  judge, 
that  he  required  the  counsel  to  re- 
duce their  interrogatories  to  writ-* 
ing,  in  a  case  of  some  difficulty, 
and  for  a  more  accurate  observatbn 
of  them.  No  lawyer  could  ever 
doubt  the  right  of  a  judge  to  make 
such  an  order,  if  he  deemed  it 
necessary.  That  it  should  excite 
niurn\urs,  much  more  that  it 
should  be  the  ground  of  a  serious 
charge  against  the  respondent,  for 
misconduct  in  his  official  character, 
betrays  in  the  counsel  a  childish 
impatience  of  restraint,  and  must 
forever  be  recorded,  as  a  monument 
of  the  condescension  of  the  illus-. 
trious  majority  in  the  house  of 
representatives,  for  the  year  1804. 
If  the  court  is  the  proper  tribunal 
to  decide  all  questions  of  evidenccy 
it  is  certainly  the  duty  of  the  judg- 
es, to  use  great  deliberation,  when^ 
ever  the  i:orrect  decision  of  these 
questions  requires  the  application 
of  exquisite  legal  principles,  and 
great  subtlety  of  reasonii^g. 

It  is  one  of  the  specification«  in 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


JtJDGE  chase's  trial. 


5r 


this  ardcle  against  Judge  Chase, 
that  he  refused  to  postpone  the* 
trial  of  Callender.  The  continu- 
tfice  of  a  cause  does  not  depend  on 
the  arbitrary  will  of  the  court,  but 
on  fixed  principles.  Every  ap- 
plication for  a  continuance  must 
come  >vithin  those  rules,  or  the 
trial  must  proceed.  The  true  and 
only  reason  for  granting  a  contin- 
uance is,  that  the  party  accused 
may  have  the  best  opportunity, 
which  the  law  can  afford  him,  of 
making  his  defence.  Where  the 
ground  of  a  continuance  is  the  ab- 
sence of  witnesses,  it  is  a  settled 
rule,  and  made  necessary  to  the 
expeditious  and  happy  administra- 
tion of  justice,  that  the  application 
should  be  supported  by  an  afBdav« 
it,  that  the  testimony  wanted  is 
"  competent  and  materiaj,"  and 
that  there  is  <^  reasonable  expecta- 
tion of  procuring  it  within  the  time 
prescribed."  The  affidavit  of  Cal- 
lender did  not  state,  that  he  ex- 
pected to  procure,  at  the  next  term, 
such  evidence  as  he  wanted,  or  that 
he  should  obtain  the  attendance  of 
the  absent  witnesses,who  were  scat- 
tered over  the  union.  The  affidav- 
it was  clearly  defective,  and  it  be- 
came the  duty  of  the  pourt  to  rcr 
ject  the  application. 

After  perusing  the  trial  of  Cal* 
lender,  it  is  apparent  from  the  con- 
duct of  his  counsel,  that  they  were 
unwilling  to  be  tied  down  to  an  ob- 
servance of  the  rules  of  law.  It 
would  have  been  vastly  agreeable 
to  them,  and  very  much  for  the  in- 
terest of  their  client,  could  the 
cause  have  been  tried  by  a  mob, 
instead  of  being  heard  before  a  tri- 
bunal, whose  judges  well  knew  the 
rules  of  law,  and  had  the  virtue  to 
accomplish  the  duties  of  their  of- 
ficial station. 

In  concluding  his  defence  ag^inft  thofe 
cWjres,  contained  in  the  fourth  article 
•f  impcaduncpt,  he   dedttfs,  that  his 


whole  condu<5l  in  that  trial,  was  reflat- 
ed by  a  ftridt  regard  to  the  principles  6£ 
law,  and  by  an  honeft  defire  to  do  juIHce 
between  the  United  States  and  the  party 
accufed.  He  felt  a  fincere  wifh.on  the 
one  hand,  that  the  traverfer  might  eftab- 
li(h  hit  innocence,  by  thofe  fair  and. 
fufficient  means  which  the  law  allovt  ; 
and  a  determination  on  the  other,  that 
he  ihoHid  not,  by  fubterfuges  and  frivo- 
lous pretences,  fport  with  the  jufKce  of 
the  country,  and  evade  that  punifhment 
of  which,  if  guilty,  he  was  fo  proper  aa 
objedi.  Thefe  intentions,  he  is  confident, 
were  legal  and  laudable  ;  and  if,  in  any 
part  of  his  condudl,  he  fwervcd  from 
this  line,  it  was  an  error  of  his  judgment 
and  not  of  his  heart. 

V.  In  replying  to  the  fifth  arti- 
cle of  the  impeachment,the  respon- 
dent shews,  that  the  managers, 
who  febricated  the  article,  were 
guilty  of  a  matenal  oversight  in 
citing  the  law  of  Virginia,  on  which 
it  is  founded.  The  charge  is,  for 
awarding  an  erroneous  process  a- 
gainst  Callender.  But  by  the  stat- 
ute, it  is  left  in  the  discretion  of  the 
court  to  award  the  profier  procesM^ 
provided  it  will  bring  the  olFendcr 
to  answer  to  the  presentment.  The 
Judge  then  proves  incontroverti- 
bly,  that  in  issuing  a  capias,  his 
conduct  was  perfectly  con-ect. 

VI.  The  sixth  article  charges 
the  respondent  with  an  intent  to  op# 
press  Callender,  in  adjudging  him 
to  trial,  during  the  term  at  which 
he  was  presented  and  indicted.  But 
the  respondent  denies,  that  the  law 
of  Virginia,  to  which  this  article 
refers,  wan-ants  the  inference 
drawn  from  it ;  "  because  it  speaks 
of  presentments,  and  not  of  indict- 
ments, which  are  very  different 
things  ;  and  is,  as  he  is  informed, 
confirmed,  by  practice  and  con- 
struction in  the  state  of  Virginia, 
to  cases  of  small  offences,  which 
are  to  be  tried  by  tlie  court  itself 
upon  the  presentment,  without  an 
indictment,  or  the  intervention  of 
a  jury." 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


9U1I#B  €tfAS£^d  TRSAl. 


In  "^pMUQg  a  jodgm«nt  on  the 
character  of  the  majority  in  the 
^ouse  of  representatives,  who  vot- 
td  in  favour  of  the  impeachmenti 
posterity  will  inqiure^  wherefore 
Judge  Chase  was  selected,  as  the 
aole  object  of  this  Impeachment. 
He  was  but  ©ne  of  the  judges,  who 
constituted  the  courts,  in  which  the 
facts  took  place.  k&  thp  opimons 
expressed,  and  in  the  judgments 
rendered,  the  associates  of  Judge 
Chase  concurred  in  sentiment. 
The  tuVpitude,  if  any;,  atjtached  to 
both.  Why  were  acticms  regard- 
ed in  one  a$  venial,  while  they  were 
made  the  subject  of  a  criminal 
charge  against  the  other  ?  Was  it 
^cause  Judge  Chase  would  be  a 
more  splendid  victim  on  th#  Altar 
of  political  intolerance  ?  Or  was  it 
to  sooth  the  wounded  feelings  of 
the  principal  prosecutor  ?  In  the 
eye  of  irajKirtiai  minds,  remote 
from  the  scene  of  action,  and  free 
from  those  impediments,  which 
obscure  the  clearness  of  its  vision, 
tliis  selection  remains  a  record  of 
partiality. 

VII.  It  is  sufficient  to  shew  the 
futility  of  the  charges,  contained 
in  the  seventh  article,  to  observe, 
that  they  do  in  substance  amount 
to  this  ;  "  that  the  respondent  re- 
fused to  di^harge  a  grand  jury 
on  their  request,  which  is  every 
day's  practice,  and  which  he  was 
bound  to  do,  if  he  believed  that  the 
due  administration  of  justice  re- 
quired their  longer  attendance  ; 
that  he  directed  th^e  attention  of 
the  grand  jury  to  an  offence  ar 
gainst  a  sts^te  of  the  United  States, 
which  he  had  been  informed  was 
committed  in  the  district  ;  and 
that  he  desired  the  district  attor- 
ney to  aid  the  grand  jury,  in  their 
inquiries  concerning  the  existence 
and  nature  of  this  offence.  By 
these  three  acts,  each  of  which  it 
was  Ilia  duty  to  perform,  he  is  al- 


leged, <<  to  have  degraded  hb  higli 
judicial  functions,  iand  tended  to 
impair  the  publick  confidence  in, 
and  respect  for,  the' tribunals  of 
justice  so  essential  to  the  general 
welfare." 

VIll .  In  replying  to  the  eighth 
article,  the  respondent  avows  the 
poliucal  opinions,  which  he  14 
charg^  with  uttering.  He  theu 
adds  ; 


It  has  been  the  pradlice  in  this  coun^ 
try,  ever  fince  ibe  beginning  of  the  re- 
Yolutio^y  which  feparated  ut  from  Great 
Britain,  for  the  judget  to  ezprefs  froin 
the  bench,  by  way  of  charge  to  the 
grand  jury,  and  to  enforce  to  the  utmoft 
of  their  ability,  fuch  political  opinions^ 
«s  thev  thought  corre<^  and  urefixl. 
There  have  been  inftances  in  which  th« 
iegiflative  bodies  of  thif  country,  hav^ 
recommeoded  this  practice  of  the  judget ; 
and  it  was  adopted  ^y  the  judges  of  the 
fupreme  court  of  Xhe  United  States,  a» 
foon  at  the  prtftnt  judicial  fyjlem  wap 
.«ftabli(hed.  If  the  l^Hatureof  th«  • 
•United  States  conddered  ibis  pracflice  u 
.mifchievous,  dangerous, or  liable  to  abufe, 
they  might  hiva  forbidden  it  by  law  ; 
to  the  penalties  of  which,  fuch  judges 
as  might  afterwards  tranfgrefs  it,  would 
-be  juftly  iubje<5led.  By  not  forbiding  it, 
(he  legiilature  ha«  given  to  it  an  implied 
fandlion;  and  for  that  IcgiAature  topun- 
ifti  it  iiow  by  way  of  impeachment, 
would  he  to  convert  into  a  crime,  br 
an  ex  pod  fa<5lo  proceeding,  an  aA  which 
when  k  was  done  and  at  ail  times  before, 
they  had  themfelvcs  virtually  declared 
to  be  innocent.  Such  conducfl  would 
be  utterly  fubverfive  of  the  fundamen- 
tal principles  on  which  free  government 
refts  ;  and  would  form  a  precedent  for 
the  moft  fanguinary  ,aiul  arbitrary  per- 
iiecti^Qiu,  under  the  forms  of  law. 

He  then  with  brevity  examines  the 
political  opinions,  which  were  in- 
corporated in  his  address  to  the 
grand  jury,  and  in  a  satisiiictory 
manner  defends  them. 

The  close  of  the  respondent's 
plea  is  inexpressibly  solemn  and 
dlgnitied.  We  insert  it  as  a  spe*^ 
cimeQ  of  genujne  eloquence* 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


JVt^n  QllA6fc'ft  TftlAl. 


^ 


Thk  rrl^^ent  hm  now  laid  b^re 
tnift  honourable  court,  as  well  as  the 
time  allowed  him  would  pernut,  all  the 
eircumfhuices  of  this  cafe.  With  an 
humble  trurt  in  Providence  and  a  con- 
icioufnefs  that  he  hath  difcharged  all  hit 
otBcial  duties  with  juIHct  and  smpartial- 
ky,  Co  th«  heft  of  his  knov<riedge  and  »- 
^ilitiea  ;  aad  that  inteotionalty  be  hath 
committed  no  crime  or  mifdemeanour, 
^r  a^y  Tiolstion  of  th^  confHHitiod  or 
lawa  of  lri»  conntry — CoofidiRg  in  th* 
hnpartia)ityrU3<iepcndeDre,  and  integrity 
«f  ht«judgW,  and  that  they  wUl  patient-' 
ly  hear  aud  cunfcientioaHy  determine 
ihii  cafe,  without  being  influenced  by 
the  fpint  of  party,  by  popular  prejudice, 
^r  pcHiical  motives,  he  cheerfully  fub- 
mrt*  himfelf  to  thtir  decifioti. 

If  it  fhall  appear  to  this  Ixmofirabf^ 
court  from  the  evidence  produced,  that 
he  hath  adted  in  his  jjJicht  charadler 
with  wilful  injuflice  or  partiality,  he 
doih  not  wifh  any  favour,  but  exp^dU 
that  the  whole  ettent  of  the  puniftnnent 
permitted  in  the  conftitutiou  will  be  in-^ 
fli(fled  upon  him. 

If  any  par:  of  his  cffiehl  comlu<5b  (hall 
appear  to  this  honourable  cowrie  JlriiH 
j^ruy  to  have  been  illegal, or  to  have  pro- 
ceeded from  igrteranes  or  error  in  judg- 
ificnt  ;  or  if  any  part  of  his  eondodk 
fhall  appear,  although  illegal,  to  haT« 
been  irregular  or  improper,  but  not  to> 
have  flowed  from  a  depravity  of  beart, 
or  any  unworthy  motives,  he  feeU  coBi- 
fideot  that  thi§  court  wIM  make  allow* 
ance  for  the  imperfections  and  frailtic* 
incident  to  man.  He  it  fatitfied  that 
every  njember  of  thit  tribunal  will  ob- 
ferve  the  principles  of  humanity  and 
jaftice,win  prefume  him  innocent,  untit 
hi»  guilt  (hall  be  cdablifhed  by  legal  and 
credible  witnefles  ;  and  wiU  be  govem- 
•d  in  hit  decifion,  by  the  moral  and 
chrifHan  rule,  of  rendering  that  juftice 
to  this  refpondent,  which  ht  would  wi(b' 
to  receive. 

Thit  refpondent  now  (lands  not  mere- 
ly before  an  earthly  tribunal,  but  alfo  be- 
fore that  awftil  Being,  whofe  prefeocc 
filt  all  fpacey  and  whofe  all  feeing  eye 
more  efpecially  iunty^  the  temples  of 

^'iflice  and  religion.  In  a  little  time, 
baccufers,  his  judges,  and  himfelf  muft 
appear  at  the  Bar  of  Omnipotence, 
where  the  fecrets  of  all  hearts  ihall  be 
dirdofed,  and  every  human  being  fhaH 
aofwer  for  bit  deedt  oune  in  the  body, 
aod  Hiall  he  compelled  to  give  evidence 
tpih^  hirafelf  ia  the  pr^fcAC?  of  aiTea^ 


bled  untverfe.  To  hit  Cmaifcient  Xud)rer 
at  that  Awful  hour,  he  now  appeals  for 
•he  retflitude  aod  purity  of  his  conduc% 
as  to  all  the  xaatttrt  of  which  he  i»  thit- 
day  accufed. 

He  hath  now  only  to  adjut^  each 
member  of  this  honoul'able  court,  by 
the  living  GOi>,  and  in  his  holy  same, 
to  /-coder  impartial  juAicc  to  him,  acf^ 
carding  to  the  conditution  and  laws  6f 
the  United  States-  He  makes  this  fol- 
cmn  demand  of  each  member,  by  all  hii 
hopes  of  happinefs  in  the  world  to  come^ 
which  he  will  have  volnntarily  renounce* 
ed  by  the  oath  he  has  taken  ;  if  he  (halt 
wilfully  do  this  refpondent  injuftice,  or 
difregard  the  conllitution  or  laws  of  the 
tJnited  States,  which  he  has  folemtily 
fwom  to  make  the  rule  and  (landard  c/t 
lut  judgment  and  deciHoa. 

The  object  of  the  review  of  a 
book  IS  to  communicate  to  the  pub* 
lick  information  of  its  contents, 
and  to  pourtray  its  excellencies 
and  defects.  Milton  obsen-es, 
"  that  it  is  of  greatest  concernment 
in  tlie  church  and  commonwealth, 
to  have  a  \igilant  eye  how  books 
demeane  themselves,  as  well  as 
men."  From  regard  to  publick 
considerations,  we  always  look  on 
a  new  publication  with  jealousy, 
well  assured,  that  if  it  is  written 
for  immortality,  no  wound,  which 
it  can  receive  from  the  severity  ot 
criticism,  will  be  fatal  to  its  exist- 
ence. But  if  books  inculcate  evil 
and  peniicious  principles,  cither  in 
taste  or  morals,  "  since  they  doc 
contain  a  potencie  of  life  in  tliem 
to  be  as  active  as  that  soule  whostf 
progeny  they  arc,"  they  must,  a\ 
the  tribunal  of  criticism,  be  du\y 
informed  against,  and  prosecuted 
to  conviction  and  punisiiment,  as 
offenders  ag-ainst  the  peace  and  di le- 
nity of  the  commonwealth. 

This  trial,  the  course  of  the  pro- 
ceedings, the  examination  of  the 
witnesses,  and  the  arguments  for 
and  against  the  prosecution,  are 
woilhy  the  attention  of  all  the  cit- 
izens, but  more  particularly  of  the 


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40 


JUDGE   chase's   trials 


law  student.  To  him  we  recom- 
mend it,  as  an  authoritative  exhi- 
bition of  correctness  in  judicial 
proceedings,  dispkying  the  appli- 
cation of  principles  to  practice.  But 
the  book  is  printed  on  poor  paper, 
and  in. a  miserable  style  of  execu- 
tion. Frequent  and  scandalous  er- 
rours  occur  in  the  orthography.  It 
has  all  the  marks  of  hurry,  which 
no  necessity  will  palliate,  and  for 
which  the  editors,  considering  the 
dignity  of  the  subject,  and  the  ex- 
tensive patronage,  which  they  had 
obtained,  are  inexcusable.  We 
have  seen  the  first  volume  of 
Smithes  edition  of  the  trial,  which 
is  executed,  in  point  of  typograph- 
ical neatness,  with  much  greater 
care,  and  in  a  superiour  style.  In 
Evans's  report,  the  arguments  o^ 
the  counsel  for  the  respotident,  and 
in  Smith's  edition,  the  arguments 
of  the  managers  were  revised  and 
corrected  by  them  prior  to  their 
publication.  So  far  as  we  able  to 
judge,  by  comparing  the  Speeches 
of  the  respective  brators  in  the  two 
editions,  it  is  generally  true,  that 
in  both  they  have  been  reported 
with  fidelity.  Where  they  have 
been  revised  and  corrected  by  the 
orators,  many  of  them  are  worthy 
of  the  occasion,  and  do  honour  to 
the  taste  and  eloquence  of  our 
country.  To  those,  who  ate  con- 
versant in  courts  of  justice,  It  is 
well  known,  that  to  speak  elo- 
quontly  on  important  subjects, 
without  deep  premeditation,  re- 
quires the  highest  efforts  of  the 
human  intellect.  The  report  of  a 
speech  is  usually,  though  not  ne- 
cessarily, an  abridgment  of  it.  The 
reporter  is  solicitous  to  catch  the 
sentiment.  He  is  seldom  able  to 
exhibit  the  beauties  of  style  and 
manner.  He  can  preserve  the 
bones  and  sinews.  The  anatomy 
may  be  perfect,  but  the  delicate 
shades  of  complexion^    and   tlie 


graces  of  form  and  gesture  flr# 
gone. 

The  managers  on  the  part  of  thrf 
h6use  of  representatives,  were^ 
Messrs.  John  Randolph,  Rodney, 
Nicholson,  Early,  Boyle,  and  G* 
W.  Campbell.  The  counsel  for 
the  respondent  were,  Messrs.  Har-* 
per,  Martin,  Hopkinson,  Key,  and 
C.  Lee. 

The  replication  to  the  answer  of 
the  respondent,  filed  by  the  man- 
agers, on  behalf  of  the  house  of  re- 
presentatives, was  framed  frona 
the  form  of  the  replication,  which 
was  filed  in  the  celebrated  case  of 
Warren  Hastings. 

Mr.  Randolph  opened  the  caustf 
on  the  part  of  the  hduse  of  repre- 
sentatives in  a  speech,  in  whicl^ 
he  took  a  genend  survey  of  the 
charges.  We  naturally  expected, 
that  Mr.  R.  would,  in  this  speech, 
have  exerted  all  his  talents,  to  give 
the  most  clear  and  favourable  ap-' 
pearance  to  the  cause,  which  he 
supported!  We  expected,  that 
after  a  brief  and  clear  exhibition  of 
the  charges,  he  would  have  follow- 
ed the  respondent's  plea,  and  dis- 
played, what  is  styled  in  the  repli- 
cation^  ^  its  evasive  insinuations," 
and  "  its  misrepresentation  of 
fects  :"  and,  since  it  was  "  utterly- 
false  and  untrue,"  that  he  would 
have  stript  it  of  "  its  gloss  and  col- 
ouring." Much  time  having  elap- 
sed, since  ^he  subject  had  pressed 
on  his  attention,  it  would,  we  pre- 
sume, have  been  easy  for  him  ; 
and,  considering  the  novelty  of 
the  occasion,  it  would  have  been 
useful^  briefly  to  have  exposed  the 
law  of  impeachment*  But  his 
speech  is  extremely  barren  of  mat-" 
ter,  and  defective  in  argument. 
Even  in  its  revised  form,  it  has 
none  of  those  qualities,  which  con- 
stitute eloquence.  It  is  not  re- 
commended to  us  by  the  poor 
merit  of  splendid  declamation,  or  of 


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JlTBftK  CHASr/S   TRIAL. 


41 


ing^enious  sophistry.  In  fact,  the 
Sampson  seems  to  rise  up  among 
the  Philistines,  shorn  of  his  locks. 
The  following  passage  will  give 
an  idea  of  his  manner.  It  is  ani- 
mated^ but  the  sentiment  is  ex- 
tremely incorrect  and  paradoxical. 
Its  tendency  is  to  extend  impunity 
to  criminals,  by  dissolving  their 
counsel  from  the  observance  of 
the  salutary  maxims  of  the  law  in 
the  cooducL  of  their  trials. 

We  are  prepared  to  prove,  what  the 
respondent  has  in  part  admitted,  that  he 
•*  restricted  the  counsel  of  Fries  from 
citing  such  English  authorities  as  they 
believed  apposite,  and  cei-tain  statutes  of 
the  United  States,  which  they  deemed 
material  to  their  defence  ;"  that  the  pri- 
sooer  was  debarred  by  him  from  his  con^ 
stitutioaal .  privilege  of  addressing  the 
jury,  through  his  counsel,  on  the  law,  as 
well  as  the  fact,  involved  in  the  verdict 
which  they  were  required  to  give — and 
that  he  attempted  to  wrest  from  the  ju- 
ry their  undeniable  right  to  hear  argu- 
ment, and,  consequently,  to  determine 
upon  the  question  of  law,  which  in  a 
criminal  case  it  was  their  sole  and  un- 
questionable province  to  decide.  These 
last  charges  (except  so  far  as  relates  to 
the  laws  of  the  United  States)  are  im- 
pi^ediy  admitted  by  the  respondent.  He 
confesses,  that  he  would  not  permit  the 
prisoner's  counsel  to  cite  certain  cases, 
"because  they  could  not  inform  but 
might  deceive  and  mislead  the  jury." 
Mr.  President,  it  is  the  noblest  trait  in 
thU  inestimable  trial,  that  in  criminal 
prosectuions,  where  the  verdict  is  gener- 
al, the  jury  are  the  sole  judges,  and, 
where  they  acquit  the  prisoner,  the  judg- 
es, without  appeal,  both  of  law  and  fact. 
And  wliat  is  the  declaration  of  the  respon- 
dent bat  an  admission,  that  he  wished  to 
take  from  the  jury  their  indisputable 
privilege  to  hear  argument  and  deter** 
mine  upon  the  law,  and  to  usurp  to 
himself  that  power,  which  belonged  to 
them,  and  to  them  only  ?  It  is  one  of 
the  mo^t  glorious  attributes  of  jury  tri- 
al, that  in  criminal  cases  (particular- 
ly such  as  are  capital)  the  prisoner's 
counsel  may  (and  they  often  do)  attempt 
*•  to  deceive  and  mislead  the  jury."  It 
is  eiicntial  to  the  fairness  of  the  trial, 
that  It  should  be  conducted  with  perfect 

Vol.  111.   No.  I.  1^ 


freedom.  It  is  congenial  to  the  gener- 
ous spirit  of  our  institutions  to  lean  to 
the  side  of  an  unhappy  fellow  creature, 
put  in  jeopardy,  of  limb,  or  life,  or  lib- 
erty. The  free  principles  of  our  gov- 
ernments, individual  and  federal,  teach 
us  to  make  every  humane  allowance  in 
his  favour,  to  grant  him  with  a  liber- 
ality, miknown  to  the  narrow  and  ty- 
rannous maxims  of  most  nations,  every 
indulgence  n»t  inconsistent  with  the 
due  administration  of  justice.  Hence  a 
greater  latitude  is  allowed  to  the  ac- 
cused, than  is  permitted  to  the  prosecu- 
tor. The  jury,  upon  whose  verdict  thtt 
event  is  staked,  are  presumed  to  be  men 
capable  of  understanding  what  they  are 
called  upon  to  decide,  and  the  attorney 
for  the  state,  a  gentleman  learned  in  his 
profession,  capable  of  detecting  and  ex- 
posing the  attempts  of  the  opposite  coun- 
sel to  mislead  and  deceive.  There  is 
moreover  the  court,  to  which,  in  cases 
of  difficulty,  recourse  might  be  had.  But 
what  indeed  is  the  difficulty  arising  from 
the  law  in  criminal  cases,  for  the  most 
part  f  What  is  to  hinder  an  honest  jury 
from  deciding,  especially  after  the  aid  of 
an  able  discussion,  whetlier  such  an  act 
was  a  killing  with  malice  prepense,  or 
such  other  overt  acts  set  forth  in  an  in- 
dictment, constituted  a  levying  war  a- 
gainst  the  United  States — and  to  what 
purpose  has  treason  been  defmed  by  the 
constitution  itself,  if  overbearing^arbitra- 
ry  judges  are  permitted  to  establish  a- 
mong  us  the  odious  and  dangerous  doc- 
trine of  constructive  treason  ?  The  acts 
of  Congress  which  had  been  referred  to 
on  the  former  trial,  but  which  the  re- 
spondent said  he  would  not  suffer  to  be 
cited  again,  tended  to  shew  that  the  of- 
fence committed  by  Fries  did  not  amount 
to  treason.  That  it  was  a  misdemeanor, 
only,  already  provided  for  by  law  and 
punishable  with  fine  and  imprisonment. 
The  respondent  indeed  denies  this  part 
of  the  charge,  but  he  justifies  it  even  (as 
he  says)  if  it  be  proved  upon  him.  And 
are  the  laws  of  our  own  country  (at 
well  as  foreign  authorities)  not  to  be  suf- 
fixed to  be  read  in  our  courts,  in  justifi- 
cktion  of  a  man  whoss  life  is  put  in  jeo- 
pardy ! 

The  examination  of  the  witness- 
es followed.  In  this  interc*Ung 
part  of  the  work,  we  observe  great 
attention  paid  to  those  rules  of  evi- 
dcncc^  ami  maxims  of  conduct, 


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41 


JVVoi  CHASERS  TRlAr,^ 


which  arc  justified  by  the  authori- 
ty of  judicial  tribunals.  In  the 
trial  of  Warren  Hastings,  the 
managers  on  the  part  of  the  Com- 
mons contended,  with  persevering 
obstinacy,  that  they  ought  not  to  be 
bound  by  the  rules  of  legal  pi'o- 
ceeding,  which  are  observed  in 
other  cases,  and  before  inferiour 
tribunals.  The  Commons,  said 
Mr.  Burke,  disclaim  all  knowledge 
of  pleading  as  a  science.  They 
are  not  clerks,  but  j)lain,  simple 
laymen.  If  they  speak  the  lan- 
guage of  reason  and  plain  sense, 
they  are  not  bound  to  plead  tech- 
nically, or  to  speak  according  to 
the  terms  of  science.  By  the  con- 
sUtution,theLords  are  not  consider- 
ed as  learned  in  the  law,  but  merely 
as  Barons,  Swordsmen,  and  Cava- 
liers, with  whom  are  mixed  the 
Bishops,  and  it  would  be  proper 
for  them  therefore  to  judge  ac- 
cording to  the  principles  of  natu- 
ral justice,  and  not  according  to 
certain  narrow  rules  laid  down  in 
other  courts.  But  in  the  whole 
course  of  that  trial,  theirLordships 
acted  on  quite  different  principles, 
and  demonstrated  by  their  decis- 
ions, that  there  was  not,  in  their 
opinion,  one  rule  of  evidence, 
which  did  not  apply  to  the  House 
of  Lords,  as  much  as  to  any  infe- 
riour court  in  the  kingdom.  Mr. 
Burke  denied,  that  there  was  any 
Euch  thing  as  rules  of  evidence, 
and  contended  that  all  evidence 
must  vary  in  its  matter  and  in  its 
manner,  as  the  nature  of  each  case 
varied.  But  his  idea  was  ex- 
tremely incorrect  :  for  tlie  rules 
of  evidence  result  from  the  nature 
of  things,  and,  like  the  laws  of  na- 
ture, are  immutable.  By  these 
rules,  it  is  not  intended,  that  the 
same  evidence  will  prove  all  cases : 
they  respect  rather  the  quality 
and  degree  of  proof  necessary  to 
liubstantiate   a   fact.      That  oral 


testimony,  for  instance,  is  inr^ 
admissible  to  prove  the  contents, 
of  a  deed,  or  written  instrument, 
which  are  in  existence  ;  that  the 
copy  of  an  instrument  shall  not  be 
used,,  where  the  original  can  be 
produced ;  and  that  a  witness  shall 
not  be  permitted  to  testify,  unless 
under  the  solemnities  of  an  oath  ; 
are  rules  of  evidence,  which  cer- 
tainly are  founded  in  nature,  and 
can  never  vaiy  with  the  varieties 
of  legal  occasions,  or  be  dispensed 
with  by  any  tribunal. 

Mr.  Early's  speech  follows  the 
examination  of  the  witnesses.  It 
commences  with  the  following  ob- 
servation, which  we  find,  in  its  re- 
vised state,  in  Smitli's  edition.-— 
"  There  is  no  attitude^  in  which 
the  government  of  this  nation  can 
be  viewed,  more  completely  de- 
monstrative of  the  efficacy  of  its 
principles,  tlian  that,  in  which  it  is 
now  placed."  Whether  Mr.  E- 
thought  that,  at  that  time,  the  gov- 
ernment was  standing,  or  wallang, 
or  sitting,  or  sleeping,  we  know 
not  ;  and  how  the  attitude  of  a 
government  should  demonstrate  its 
firinci/iles^  is  a  little  mysterious. 
It  appears  to  us  as  difficult  to  com- 
prehend, as  it  would  be  to  ascer- 
tain, from  a  man's  gait,  whether  he 
were  a  Roundhead  or  a  Cavalier, 
Salliist  remarks  a  peculiarity  ia 
Cataline's  gait  f  "  citus  modo,  mo- 
do  tardus  incessus** :  sometimes 
walking  rapidly,  then  suddenly 
stopping  and  looking,  as  though 
he  feared  that  he  was  pursued. 
This  indicated  a  mind,  haunted 
with  the  images  of  former  crimes, 
and  loaded  uith  tlie  consciousness 
of  guilt.  But  the  use  of  this  rhe- 
torical figure  in  the  present  in- 
stance is  the  first  tirne  that  we  have 
seen  it  applied  to  a  body  politick  ; 
and  we  leave  it  with  this  one  ob- 
servation, that  its  use  lias  not  yet 
been  established  by  standard  au- 


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^XTDGX  CHASK's  Tllliltr 


41 


t"hority.  Mr.  E.*s  speech  abounds 
-witli  hyperbolical  expresaon  and 
superlative  epithet,  which,  like 
profane  and  idle  oaths  and  impre- 
cations in  common  discourse,  in- 
dicate a  poverty  of  invention  as 
well  as  a  corrupt  taste.  His  view 
of  the  subject  is  very  general. 
Something  Kke  an  argument  is  atr 
tempted  on  the  first  article,  but 
his  manner  throughout  is  loose 
and  declamatory;.       '  ; 

We  are  better  pleased  uith  Mr. 
(Campbell's  speech,  as  it  appears 
revised  in  Smiith^s  edition.  His 
style  is  plain  and  impressive,  with-* 
out  an  attempt'  ait  any  great  de- 
gree of  elevation.  He  confines 
himself  to  an  investigation  of  the 
conduct  of  the  respondent  at  the 
trials  of  Fries  and  of  Callender* 
His  \iew  is  general,  and  executed 
with  considerable  ability.  It  is 
vastly  superiour  -to  the  vapid  per^ 
Ibrmance  of  Mr.  Early.  Even  the 
freedom,  viith  which  he  treats  the 
respondent,  and  the  resentment, 
which  he  expresses  at  liis  coUp 
duct,  are  excusable,  because  tliey 
are  the  prerogative  of  animated 
.  debate. 

This  volume  nent  presents  us 
with  the  speeches  of  Messi*s.  Hopr' 
kinson.  Key,  Lcc,  Martin,  and 
Harper.  They  are  models  «f  fo^ 
Fensick  eloquence.  We  have  de- 
voted so  much  attention  to  the  an- 
swer of  the  respondent,  that  we 
must  be  content  to  give  our  opin- 
ion of  the  character  of  the  argu- 
ments for  and  against  the  proser 
cution,  without  minutely  analysing 
them,  and  without  the  insertion  of 
copious  extracts. 

The  defence  was  commenced  by 
J^lv,  Hopkinson,  the  introduction 
to  whose  speech  is  truly  eloquent 
and  impressive.  It  is  confined 
to  a  defence  of  tlie  respondent  on 
the  fii-Sit  article.     The  language  is 


dignified,  and  the  whole  oration  it 
not  unworthy,  for  its  excellent  sub- 
stance and  elegant  form,  to  be 
compared  with  some  of  the  cele- 
brated productions  of  the  Roman 
bar. 

Mr.  Key's  speech  is  confined  to 
the  second,  ihird,  and  fourth  arti- 
cles of  impeachment,  and  is,  to 
use  the  language  of  Mr.  Lee,  in 
the  style  and  maimer  of  an  «  ele- 
gant advocate  .f* 

Mr.  Lee's  speech  displays 
much  judicial  skill,  united  to  an 
ease  aiKl  simplicity  of*  manner, 
Which  are  highly  pleasing. 

Mr.  Martin  confines  his  partic- 
HJar  attention  to  the  fifth  and  sixth, 
after  a  survey  of  the  preceding  ar- 
ticles of  impeachment.  He  dis- 
cussefi  with  great  ability  the  rela- 
tive duties  of  judges  and  counsel, 
and  the  respective  rights  of  judges 
and  jurors.  He  incontestibly 
proves,  on  the  authority  both  of 
precedent  and  reason,  that  the 
right  of  the  coiut  to  decide  the 
Jaw,  is  the  same  in  criminal  as  m 
civil  cases.  He  demonstrates,  that 
the  process,  issued  by  the  respon- 
dent in  tlie  case  of  Callender,  was 
correct.  "  Two  highly  respecta- 
ble legal  .characters  in  Virginia, 
who  successively  held  the  office  of 
attorney  general  (Col.  James  and 
Gen.  Buooke)  were  applied  to  by 
one  of  their  deputies,  and  declared 
themselves  incapable  to  decide, 
what  ought  to  be  the  practice  ;  or 
in  other  words,  to  decide  in  what 
cases  a  summons  ought  to  be 
used,  and  in  what  cases  a  capias 
was  the  proper  process."  This 
point,  which  had  puzzled  the  Vir- 
ginia lawyers,  Mr.  Martin,  by  his 
luminous  investigation,  has,  we 
presume,  settied ;  for  which  serv- 
ice the  bar  of  tiiat  state  ought  to 
be  very  gi-ateful.  The  style  and 
manner  of  Mr.  Hopkinson  is  very 


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u 


3^0GX  Cdm^S  TRIAt* 


dissimilar  to  those  of  Mr.  Mar- 
tin. The  farmer  resembles  a 
majestic  stream,  flowing  with  silent 
grandeur  down  its  lofty  banks. 
The  latter  is  a  tcMTeilt^  which  bears 
down  all  before  it.  Mr.  Martin's 
conclusion  is  abrupt,  and  unequal 
to  the  preceding  parts  of  his  ora-* 
tion.  After  a  minute,  and  some- 
i¥hat  dry  discussion  of  at  point  of 
legal  practice,  extracted!  from 
statute  provision ^v  the  * '  orator 
ought  gi^dually  to  hare  descended 
from  the  height  of  legal  ^bstrac- 
tion^  and  relieved  the  mind  of  hb 
auditors  by  a  conclusion  of  a  mild^ 
er  and  more  dignified  form. .  . 

Judge  Chase's  defence  was  coii-* 
eluded  by  Mr.  Harper.  His 
speech  has  less  of  a  professional 
dress,  than  either  of  those,  which 
were' delivered  by  his  associates. 
It  is  calculated  for  an  assembly, 
which,  like  the  senate,  was  com- 
posed of  eminent  characters  from 
the  various  professions  in  society. 
The  distinguishing  trait  of  this 
speech  is  the  candour  of  the  ora- 
tor. He  boldly  meets  the  facts  in 
the  case,  as  they  had  been  related 
xxiost  to  the  disadvantage^^  of  his 
client,  and  satisfactorily  shews,^ 
where  the  witnesses  must  have 
been  tnistaken,  and  wherc  the  acts, 
charged  as  criminal  in  the  res- 
pondent, were  judicially  correct. 
Candour  is  the  legitimate  offspring 
of  a  magnanimous  and  liberal 
spirit.  So  much  does  it  gain  on 
the  hearts  of  men,  that  its  form  is 
often  artfully  assumed  even  for 
dishonest  purposes.  Orators  at 
the  bar  are  generally  unwilling  to 
yield  any  thing  to  their  antagonists. 
But  who,  that  has  any  experience, 
will  not  confess,  that  there  is  in 
almosi^very  cause  good  and  evil. 
It  is  a  departure  from  moi*al  puri- 
ty, to  attempt  to  give  to  wrong  ihe 
appearance  of  right.  When  an 
pratof   has   defended  his    client, 


where  his  conduct  admits  defence?  ?  ^ 
when  he  has  with  warmth  of  heart 
and  eloquence  of  language,  urged 
in  his  behalf,  whatever  is  consistent 
with  good  logick  and  truth,  he  has 
honourably  discharged  his  duty, 
and  ought  then  to  submit  to  the 
decisions  of  those,  wlio  are  invest* 
ed  with  the  authority  to  decide. 

In  assigning  to  conti'adictory 
testimony  the  grades  of  credit,  to 
which  its  se\'tral  pajrts  are  entitled^ 
in  elucidating  dark  passages,  and 
in  extracting  from  the  informal 
mass  the  forms  and  proportion  of 
truth,  are  among  the  most  difficult 
tasks  of  forensick  orators.  There 
was,  in  this  case,  much  occasion 
for  legal  discrimination,  jmd  of  this 
talent  Mr.  Harper  appears  to  be 
eminently  possessed.  His  lan- 
guage is  uniformly  dignified,  and 
sftrictly  within  the  limits  of  decent 
and  manly  expostulation.  He 
takes  a  general  view  of  the  whole 
subj ect  of  impeachment,  but  more 
•  particularly  confines  his  attention 
to  the  transactions  at  New  Castle 
in  Delaware,  atid  to  the  eighth 
charge. 

Whoever  reads  this  case  must  . 
be  sensible,  that  the  managers  had 
to  contend  with  complicated  em- 
barrassments. The  counsel  for  the 
respondent  were  from  among  the 
most  eminent  professional  charac-* 
ters  in  the  United  States.  The 
facts  contained  in  the  articles 
could  not,  with  all  the  jiuthority  of 
the  accusing  power,  and  with  all 
the  zeal  and  ability  of  the  man- 
agers, be  shewn  to  be  subject  of 
impeachment.  Strip  them  of  their 
technical  language,  reduce  ^hen> 
tb  the  "  simple  elements  of  their 
own  merit,"  and  what  will  ren>ain 
against  the  respondent,  which  in- 
dicates a  crime  ?  Feeble  as  >vas  the 
accusation,  it  derived  no  strength 
from  the  testimony,  after  a  most 
thorough  investigation  of  which, 


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KTS&I^  c^AssV^Ticixir; 


4i 


die  li^deies  of  xtnpesLdimeiit^iiecnfct 
cdtcrvsKShaway^  Skeayiaion  jof 
dic]fig|t»  &diBg  from  the  memo^ 
ly^i^acaiaceljrleanDga  trace  of 
ksMbf  nAd  «iry  existence. 

'  i|i(^lGchoIsoii  first  replies  on 
iSi/e  ptt  ttC  lise  prosecution.  Mia 
«jptfl^«TOt>orted  in  tJtdt  volume^ 
^oafftii^ttilliii^sQbtk  or  eloquecit* 
iLi^lmA  Jie  first  attempts  to 
pm^tfe^to  sastaki  an  kttpeach- 
id^i^ift- not  necessary,  that  the 
dUboi^^oiild  be  an  indicteble 
«}e»t|»|ilfb:was  fetremlofisly  con^ 
taAllq^jik*  counsel  for  the  pes- 
pot^|^l^*-3>e  rest  of  his  speech 
k  cyijbua  U».  an  examination  of 
tibe  JjJMJfiiii  speciications  under 
lhey»ij<dele  of  inipeffchment. 

htiJ|%jpi>jiih|taiice  awd'  manner,  to 

~  irpttft^the^prbi^uticM).. 

Ir^tiPOdtK^  tibeorators  to 

Pof^ur  iteaders^  and 

ft^d^^ring  passage 

wyNi^ps€ch>  a^a 

( sq^le  laid  manner.' 

t«t»Bialtf  a  £m  remarks 
^Tfifi  imprppricty  ^j| 

*   Ig^ia  •hit  «3if«ri 
iiiiii4  of   evert; 

t  hai<^e  at»^ 

r  ^tolme  Jur^oi  v^vs  •  '■  .It 

l*a«^  a>  dejiver 

^  . measures 

t|^tl^&i)  juiti-; 

F^<ifce  BtmoBt  loW 

il^.  Officer 

'*-*  Justice 

VW^jBSQCer' 


not  becoBfideditt' t&em  wkhconfidenoiL 
Will  Dot  the  juries  adopt  goUtical  preju- 
dices and  carry  them  home  with  them, 
ktid  decide  more  from  political  parties 
than  justice  ?  Justice  should  be  admin* 
istered  betweett  roan  afld  man  -vnthout 
any  distinction,  and  this  conduct  of  the 
respondent  goes  to  prcv^t  it.  Although 
books  have  been  prochiced,  and  a  nunv* 
ber  of  high  authorities  cited,  to  justify 
the.  delrvery  of  {Sblitical  charges,  I  must 
be  allo\red'to  enter  my  protest  against 
them  ;  but  no  instance  has  been  cited 
where  a  judge  has,  like  the  respondent, 
exclaimed  against  the  acts  of  the  govern- 
ment. When  we  look  at  the  charge, 
which  has  been  offered  in  evidence  by 
hnn,  We  find  him  ensuring  one  of  me 
most  important  acts  of  the  governmeat* 
I^allude  to  the  fepeaLof  the  judiciary  sys- 
tem ;  in  this  be  .censured  every  branch 
of  the  government.  I  am  not  about  to 
dispute  the  ri^Ht  of  Judge  Chase  in  hii 
]i)dividual  capadty  to  exercise  his  talents 
CO  prevent  fltty  measure  from  being  a* 
dopted.  Butxthat  right  cannot  apply  to 
the  case,  before  .the;  court.  He  cannot 
t>e  justified  in  d^eltvering  from  the  bench 
denunciations  against  both  fhe  measures 
.oF  the  tinited  States  and  the  state  in 
^hich  he  h^  the  court.  Nor  did  h^ 
itop  th^e.'  He  went  on  to  decl^ma- 
gainst  citizeps  of  the  f  tate^  for  being  m 
fi^vour  of  measures  which  he  deemed 
improper.'  Every  member  of  this  court 
tAust  know  that  state  jealousies  still  exist, 
and  it^  Oifgbt  to  be  the  anxious  care  of 
6very  itiuiy  tp  say  qr  do  ^lothing  csIcm* 
liMied  to  excite. . jealousies  between  th0 
United  $tates  i^nd  any  individual  state* 
Was  it  a  part  of  the  duty  of  the  judge* 
to  preach  up  against  the  acts  of  tho 
legislature  of  Maryland  ?  Assuredly  not* 
He  h^  no  ri^ht  to  thunder  anathenni 
against  th^  measures  of  any  aate. 
t 

Eitlier  the  reporter  has  been  very 
unjustyor  Mr.  Randolph  is  most  la- 
menj^ly  deficient  in  le^  science 
and  talents  for  the  folium.  Judging 
from  his  appearance  at  this  trid^^ii^ 
are  of  opiiiion,  that  he  is  well  cab 
culated  to  a(idre«5  a  mob^  or  eV6tf 
tQ^dtire  a  majorky  m  a  delibeij^ 
live  astiomfafy,  wboare  devote  UiT 
l^  will*  Hto  speech,  wh^ch  conr 
cludes^he  arguments  in  behalf  el 
the  prosecution^  is  a  declamatory 


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4i 


JtTDGB  CRASfi's  iTRlAll 


harangue)  in  which  the  pre-emi- 
nent traits  are,  his  lofty  esteem  of 
himself,  and  his  unbounded  hatred 
of  the  respondent.  In  his  man- 
her  Mr.  R.is  extremely  desultory. 
For  this  defect  he  apologizes,  by 
observing,  that  he  had  unfortu- 
nately lost  his  notes.  We  confess 
our  astonishment  at  his  apparent 
ignorance  of  a  prosecution,  which 
had  been  <<  instituted  at  his  instiga- 
tion,'* of  articles,  which  "came 
solely  from  his  pen,"  and  "  the 
meaning  of  every  word  of  which," 
he  confesses,  "that  he  felt  bound 
to  explain." 

On  tlie  1st  day  of  March,  1805, 
after  a  full  and  patient  investiga- 
tion. Judge  Chase  was,  by  the  de- 
cision of  the  high  court  of  im- 
peachment, acquitted  on  the  arti- 
cles exhibited  against  lum  by  the 
house  of  representatives.  Wheth- 
er it  is  ouj^  province  to  pass  a  sen- 
tence,, or  even  to  hint  an  opinion, 
on  the  innocence  or  guilt  of  the 
accused,  is  problematical,  lie  was 
acquitted  by  his  judges,  and  that 
most  honourably.  He  appears  to 
posse;ss  a  mind  a^nt,  lofty,  and 
overbearing.  But  who  may  more 
rightfully  assume  ;»n  imperial  voice 
and  gesture,  than  the  judges  and 
authoritative  expounders  of  the 
law  ?  In  the.  administration  of 
justice,  a  judge  must  he  ^eaf  to 
pity  and  friendship^  He  may  not 
listen  to  the  claims  of  blood  or  af* 
fection,  and  therefore  to  superficial 
observers  he  may  at  iimes  i)etray 
an  unfeeling  jtemper.  In  the 
C;oiu*se  of  his  official  duties,  he 
must  lay  the  bpavy  hand  of  justice 
pn  guilt,  which  sometimes  excites 
pity  even  l^  its  weakness^  B14 
^ver  is  the  duty  of  a  judge  more 
dj^ult  or  ungrateful,  than  tjther 
when  he  is  compelled  to  act  against 
popular  passion  and  prejudice,  or 
i^  seasons  of  political  fermentation, 
f  reedppi  from  blaxpe  at  such  tinges 


is  more  than  usually  falls  to  the 
lot  of  mortals :  since  he  b  liable  to 
err  even  from  an  excessive   desire 
to  avoid  mistake.     While  there- 
fore we  humbly  declare,  that  Judge 
Chase's  conduct  was,  in  every  ma- 
terial  act,  free  from   crime  ;     in 
some  respects  it  was  not  free  from 
fault.     We  allude  to  the  opinion 
which  he  gave  at  the  trial  of  Fries, 
which  was,  in  respect  of  the  timq 
and   manner  of  it,  a   novelty   in 
judicial  proceedings.    Mr.  Harper 
confesses  that  it   was  an  errour. 
The  honourable  Judge  was  him* 
self,  solicitous  to  expiate  his  mis- 
take with  a  generous   penitence, 
but  in  a  maimer  worthy  of  his  dig- 
nified station.     Let  not  the  vain 
and  presumptuous  man,  who  is  in- 
conscious  of  his  own  limited  pow^ 
ers,  exult  over   this  concession • 
I^et  not  the  personal  and  political 
enemies  of  Judge  Chase  presume, 
from  tliis  concession,  to  rank  us 
among  his  accusers.     But  let  them 
unite   with  us,  if  tliey  have   the 
^race  so  to  do,  in  deploring  the  im- 
perfecti^nsjwnich  are  incident  even 
to  great  and  illustrious  minds ;  and 
let  them  weep,  if  they  have  the- 
feeling  to  weep,  over  the  frailties 
of  the  human  character. 

It  is  impossible  to  read  this  trial 
without  mingled  emotions.  A 
judge  of  the  supreme  judicature 
x>f  the  nation,  venerable  for  his 
years,  for  his  integrity,  and  for  his 
publick  services,  arraigned  before 
the  .  most  august  tribunal  of  his 
eountry,and  charged  with  the  com-  ' 
mission  of  high  crimes  and  mis- 
demeanors, is  a  sublime  spectacle, 
on  which  illustrious  villany  may 
look  with  fearful  anticipation.  It 
is  lionourable  to  the  justice  of  a 
country,  that  it  should  contain  a 
tribunal,  for  bringing  to  punishr 
ment  criminal^  of  tlie  highest  or- 
der'. But  let  it  be  recollected,  that 
where  great  power  is  reposed,  it  i^ 


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46 


WAR   IK    DtSGUISlt. 


in  consequence.  This,  it  is  ti-uly 
said,  is  a  different  result  from  what 
ever  happened  in  all  .former  wars. 
Only  the  partial  stoppage  of  the 
French  commerce  by  the  superi- 
ority of  the  British  fleets  used  to 
produce  the  last  extremity  of  dis- 
tress to  the  people  and  govern- 
ment of  France  ;  so  that,  strong  as 
the  French  ever  were  on  land, 
«*  the  house  of  Bourbon  was  van- 
^  quished  by  the  masters  of  the  sea." 

He  accounts  for  this  strange  cir- 
cumstance by  ascribing  its  cause 
to  the  use  of  the  neutral,  flags.  If 
he  3upposes,that  the  great  mass  of 
the  cargoes  of  the  colonial  pix)duce, 
freighted  on  board  Ameiican  ves- 
sels is  not,  bona  fide^  the  property 
of  Americans,  we  believe  he  is 
grossly  mistaken.  American  cap- 
ital is  adequate  to  the  purchase  of 
these  pix>ducts,  and  this  is  what 
Englishmen  cannot  easily  be  made 
to  believe.  Nevertheless  the  pur- 
chase of  the  crops  of  Martinique 
and  Guadaloupe  by  American 
merchants  obviously  relieves  the 
French  planters  from  the  pressure 
of  the  war.  How  is  their  pros- 
perity retarded  or  obstructed,  if 
they  can  have  a  full  price  for  their 
crops,  the  superiority  of  the  Brit- 
ish navy  notwithstanding  ?'  It  is 
true,  not  a  French  merchant  flag  is 
Been  on  the  ocean.  But  as  the 
French  planter  owns  no  ships,  and 
is  interested  directly  only  in  the 
sale  of  his  rum,coflee,cotton,  sugar, 
&c.  if  the  neutral  will  buy  these 
articles  and  pay  for  them  at  a  good 
price,  it  is  plain  the  war  does  not 
feach  the  colony  to  cramp  its 
growth,  or  to  obstruct  its  supplies, 
•which  arc  abundantly  furnished  by 
neutrals. 

This  state  of  things,  which  is 
verified  by  the  most  ample  expe- 
rience, produces  no  little  disap- 
pointment and  vexation  to  the  bel- 
ligerent.    Hence,  as  the  British 


arms  and  our  commercial   gains 
mutually  obstruct  each  otlicr,  it  is 
extremely  natural,  that  angry    in- 
vectives and  recriminations  shoulcl 
ensue  between  the  American  and 
British  nations.     The  usual   pro- 
gress of  popular  passions,  when  so 
excited,  is  to  insult,  retaliation,  and 
war.     This  is  a  course,  which  it  i« 
incredible  the  g^veniment  of  either 
of  the  two  countries  should  wish  to 
pursue. 

Supposing  that  there  is  not  on 
either  side  a  dispositioa  to  fight, 
there  ought  to  be  a  mutual  wil- 
lingness to  argue. 

The  pamphlet  writer  proceeds 
to  examine,  I  st,  the  origin,  natm^, 
and  extent  of  whr.t  he  calls  the  e- 
vils  and  abuses  of  neutral  flags. 
2d,  the  remedy  and  right  of  ap- 
plying it.  3d,  the  prudence  of 
that  resort. 

Under  the  first  head,  ".  the  ori- 
gin, nature,  and  extent  of  the  e\il," 
he  premises,  "  that  a  neutral  has 
no  right  to  deliver  a  belligerent 
from  the  pressure  of  his  enemy's 
hostilities,  by  trading  with  his  col- 
onies in  time  of  war,  in  a  way 
that  was  prohibited  in  time  of 
peace."  Here  we  find  the  mar- 
row of  the  great  question,  at  pres- 
ent depending  between  the  bellig- 
erent and  neutral  nations. 

To  support  the  negative,  i.e. 
that  a  neutral  has  no  right  in  time 
of  war  to  any  other  trade  with  an 
enemy's  colonies,  than  what  is  per- 
mitted in  time  of  peace,  he  quotes 
at  length  the  opinion  of  Kir  Wil- 
liam Scott,  in  the  case  of  the  E- 
manuel,  Nov.  1799.  This,  he  as- 
serts, was  the  doctrine  of  the  war 
of  1756.  One  ofthe  leading  points 
decided  against  the  Dutch  in  that 
war  was,  we  believe,  that  French 
colonial  property  on  board  Dutch 
vessels  was  liable  to  condemnation ; 
in  other  words  that  free  ships  did 
not  make  free  goods.     That  tliey 


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17A&  IK  D18CUI81. 


4f 


ioy  IS  indeed  pretended  by  the 
French,  and  we  believe  only  by 
the  French,  or  those  under  their 
influence  ;  but  there  is  demon- 
strably no  ground  for  such  a  doc- 
trine, either  as  they  pretend  to  de- 
rive it  from  the  law  of  nations,  or 
from  a  just  regard  to  the  com- 
mercial advantage  of  neutrals.  By 
establishing  such  a  doctrine  the 
French,  wMle  inferior  at  sea,  would 
gain  much,  but  the  neutral  Amer- 
ican would  certainly  be  a  loser. 

If  the  principle,  diat  ^  free  ships 
make  free  goods,"  had  been  estab- 
Ushed,  as  was  vainly  attempted, 
twenty-five  years  ago,  neutrals 
would  have  been  deprived  of  im- 
mense pecuniary  advantages,which 
they  have  hitherto  enjoyed,  and 
would,  in  exchange,  have  derived 
&om  the  innovation  no  benefit,  to 
which  they  are  not  fully  entitled 
by  the  acknowledged  law  of  na- 
tions. By  the  operation  of  the 
laws  of  maritime  war,  the  com- 
merce of  belligerents  is  subject  to 
beavy  losses  and  expenses^  from 
which  neutrals  are  exempt.  This 
gives  to  the  latter  an  advantage 
over  the  former,  equal,  at  the  least, 
to  the  full  amount  of  those  losses 
and  expenses ;  or  it  drives  the  bel- 
ligerent merchant  from  the  sea, 
and  thus  leaves  to  the  neutral  a 
Tirtual  monopoly  of  the  whole 
commerce,  which  both  had  carried 
on.  It  in  effect,  therefore,  enables 
the  neutral  to  trade  with  the  bel- 
ligerent, without  the  possibility  of 
the  latter  bemg  an  equal  compet- 
itor ;  of  course  //  enadlea  the  neu" 
tral  to  tell  unusually  deavy  and  buy 
unuwaUy  cheafi.  He  sells  dear  in 
the  country  of  the  belligerent,  be- 
cause a  part  of  the  supply  is  cut 
off,  and  a  part  carried  at  an  ex- 
tremely dear  rate^  He  buys  the 
products  of  the  belligerent  cheap, 
because  a  part  of  the  usual  buyers 
withdraw  from  th§  mai:Tiet,  and 

Vol.  III.  No.  1.  Q 


and  others  cannot  afford  the  ftccus^ 
tomed  price.  Thus  the  insecuritjt 
and  increased  expense  of  the  bel* 
ligerent's  own  trade,  augment  the 
profits  of  the  neutral,  whose  trade 
is  safe.  But  if  free  ships  made 
the  goods  free,  all  the  commerce 
would  be  equally  iafe^  and  the  neu« 
tral  would  have  no  new  reward, 
but  simple  freight  (always  the  low- 
est of  mercantile  wages)  to  com- 
pensate him  for  the  various  incon« 
veniences,  to  whiph  the  war  expo- 
ses him  ;  that  is,  he  would  be  con- 
fined to  the  earnings  of  a  mere 
porter,  instead  of  superadding  the 
profits  of  a  merchant,  and  the  m« 
come  of  a  capitalist. 

We  have  great  doubts,  however,' 
whether  the  decisions  of  1756  af- 
ford any  very  clear  authority,  ei- 
ther for  the  present  British  princi- 
ples, or  for  the  claims  of  neutral 
nations.  The  state  of  things  now*, 
in  existence  is  totally  unlike  any 
thing  that  ever  was  in  1756,  or  in 
any  war  before  1 793.  Laws,  to  be 
of  any  use  or  authority,  must  be 
founded  on  their  adaptation  to  ex- 
isting circumstances.  The  con- 
troversy is  a  new  one,  because 
there  never  was,  till  1793,  any 
room  for  agitating  it.  Never,  till 
that  time,  were  France  and  her  al- 
lies stripped  of  all  active  com- 
merce, and  literally  banished  front 
the  ocean.  Of  course,  never  till 
then  were  they  obliged  to  use  th* 
aid  of  neutrals,  or  forego  entirely, 
the  benefit  of  their  colonial  com- 
merce. It  is  our  duty  to  state  the 
fact.  It  is  the  duty  of  others^ 
more  adequate  to  the  task,  to  draw 
from  it  the  proper  inferences. 

The  author  of  the  pamphlet 
proceeds  through  nearly  one  hun- 
dred pages,  to  enlarge  upon  the 
principle  of  the  war  of  1756,  and 
to  explain  and  vindicate  the  6on- 
*  duct  of  the  British  government, 
aud  the  decisiona  of  the  adinirait;|r 


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^Ak  ;fN  DXSGinss. 


courts.  We  have  not  room  to  cx- 
iibit  an  abstract  of  the  argument, 
^hich  nevertheless  we  recommend 
to  our  American  statesmen  to  pe- 
hise  and  confute.  We  have  al-- 
Veady  hinted  at  a  reason  for  ouP 
IbAearing  to  do  this.  We  believe 
the  ultimate  settlement  of  the  con* 
tSx)versy  will  depend  more  on  the 
actual  situation  of  the  parties  at 
the  present  day,  tfian  upon  the 
course  of  their  former  conduct  and 
opinions,  when  their  situation  wa^ 
exceedingly  dissimilar. 

The  author  supposed  fbaud  o!t 
the  part  of  netitf^ls,  in  ciovering 
enemy's  property,  to  a  nhich  great- 
er extent  than  American  mer- 
chants wHl  believe  is  the  fact.* 
Yet  he  undertakes,  p.  102,  to  say, 
that  his  conclusion  does  not  de- 
pend on  the  fact  assumed.     For 

•^  If  thfc  hostile  colonics  are  suppKetf 
^ch  ^  necessary  importSiand  their  pro- 
duce find»  its  way  to  market,  th«  enemy 
is  effectually  relieved  from  the  chief  pres- 
sure of  the  war,  even  though  both 
branches  of  the  trade  should  pats  into 
foreign  hands,  in  reality  as  well  as  in 
fbrm."  He  adds,  that  «  the  ptoduce 
ef  the  Wefl-Indies  sells  cheaper  at  pres- 
ent, clear  of  duti^,  in  the  ports  at  our 
gnemies  than  in  our  own.'*— P.  105. 

If  this  be  true,  we  cannot  see 
why  the  French  colonies  should 
inot  prosper  beyond  those  of  Eng- 
land. He  tells  us  this  is  the  fact  ^ 
and  repeats^  as  well  founded,  the 
boast  of  Bonaparte, 

*•  That  Guadafoiipe  and"  Martinique 
«re  flourishing  so  much  beyond  all  for- 
mer experience,  that  smce  17t9  they  barr 
doubled  their  po^ubuion.** 


•  There  it  probabfy  tome  thftftpfMenMtSotr, 
Md  «4feUinty  some  exancratioa  of  the  conduct 
of  nctitrals,  tn  ihh  part  of  the  pamphlet.  There 
Ik  also  im  evident  want  of  correct  infbrmatioa 
concernfne  the  consum^ion  of  ftigar  and  cotfec 
In  the  United  States.  Tlicae  errors  seem  to  bc 
less  excnsable,  because  acoirate  knowledge  was 
easy  to  l>c  procured,  and  it  is  admitted,  by  the 
%nter  hiiQftclf,^bat  uie  Ibrce  of.  hi>  main  aratjr 
m^ai  doci  not  dcpeo^  on  thdr  trutJu 


That  colonies  should  thrive  ^ 
produce  and  wealth,  because  the 
mother  country  is  driven  from  the 
sea,  and  abandons  them  to  shift  as 
they  can  \vithout  naval  protection,^ 
and  that  the  English  colonies 
should  droop  and  decline,  in  con-^ 
sequence  of  the  empire  of  the 
British  navy  on  every  sea,  is  cer-- 
tamly  a  strange  assertion.  The 
author  strenuously  insists,  that  this 
is  the  fact.  English  vessels  are 
exposed  to  the  pei'il  of  capture, 
and  to  war  freights  and  premiums, 
and  of  course  English  West  India 
produce  goes  deader  to  market 
than  the  products  of  the  enemy's' 
'colonies  in  neutral  vessels.  In 
tiih  way,  he  says,  the  commerce 
of  England,  in  West  India  pro-r- 
dncts,  is  every  where  obstructed, 
and  is  nearly  Idst.  But  he  insists^ 
that  the  tendency  of  this  system^ 
lo  augn^ent  and  man  the  marine 
of  France,  and  to  cramp  and  dis^^ 
courage  that  of  G.  Britain,  is  a  still 
tnore  disheartfenkig  and  urgent 
consideration. 

Having  in  detail  treated  of  the 
origin,  extent,  and  nature  of  the 
evil,  he  proceeds,  page  1 37,  to  con-' 
sider  "  the  remedy^  and  the  right  qf 
a/ifilying  it,'* 

«  If,"  he  continues,  «  neutrals, 
have  no  right,  but  through  our 
concession,  to  carry  on  the  colo^ 
nial  trade  of  our  enemies,  we  may, 
o/ia'  a  reasonable  noticey  withdraw 
that  ruinous  indulgence."  One  of 
the  chief  topicks  of  complahit  in 
America  has  been  the  condemna- 
tion of  our  vessels,  without  anv 
such  notice  of  their  being  liable  td 
condemnation.  Indeed,  if  Great- 
Britain  could  make  out  a  right  to 
seize  them,  it  appears,  that  h  hai 
been  exercised  with  an  unwari-an- 
table  pi'ecipitan(!:y  and  unnecessary 
harshness.  As  booty ,the  prizes  go 
to  the  captors  ;  and  even  if  the  gov* 
emmeutof  England  participated  i^ 


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^KK  IK  piSGUISK* 


fl 


Cic  proceeds,^!  cannot  he  supposed 
iobe  of  magnitude  enough  to  oper- 
fkte  as  a  motive  for  the  captures. 

'•  Nothing,**  says  the  author, 
«  can  be  more  advantageous  to  En- 
gland, than  the  suppression  .of  the 
fraudulent  commerce  of  neutrals. 
But  if  it  requires  a  breach  of  ju3» 
ticc,  let  us  inflexibly  abstain.'* 
These  are  honourable  sentiments, 
whether  the  author  really  feels 
them,  or  thinks  fit,  in  order  to  give 
force  to  his  reasQi^ng,  to  affect 
them. 

He  professes  to  think,  there  is 
no  doubt  of  the  British  right  to 
stop  this  trade. 

-*  Neutmi  shipi  (he  ohfierves)  when  taken 
in  a.  Jireci  voyage  to  or  from  the  hostile 
cooQtries  and  their  colonies,  or  in  a  trade 
i>etwcen  the  tatter  and  any  other  neutral 
cotmtry,  but  their  own,  have  been  al- 
vnyi  condemned  by  our  prize  courts, 
Iwth  in  the  last  and  the  prese|it  war. 
These  restrictions  can  be  warranted  by 
no  other  princii>le,  than  the  unlawfulneit 
pf  trading  with  the  colonies  of  a  belligeR- 
eot  in  time  of  war,  in  a  ^ray  not  permitr 
led  in  time  of  peace.** 

He  asks,  **  whether  it  is  possible  that 
neutral  states,  in  peace  and  amity  with 
Great-Britain,  sirmid  have  a  right  to  per- 
severe in  conduct,  which  may,  in  its  nat- 
ural coi»equences,  make  En^Und  a  ^svr 
iau  of  franu  /" 

Supposing  this  to  be  the  natural 
coDsequence,it  would  be  difficult  to 
prove^  that  a  neutral  has  any  such 
right  :  for  the  right.of  the  belliger- 
tnt  to  exist,  is  to  be  preferred  to  the 
right  of  neutrals  to  make  gain. 

«  With  what  intentioi),'*  he  nsks, "  did 
4be  enemy  open  his  colonial  ports  to 
neutrals  ?  The  single,  manifebt,  and  un- 
diisemblcd  object  was,  to  obtain  protec- 
tion and  advantage  in  the  war,  to  pre- 
serve his  colonisd  interests  without  the 
Hskxjf  defending  riiem,  and  to  sliieid 
himself,  in  this  most  Yulnerable  part,  from 
the  naval  hostilities  of  England." 

**  I  tee  not "  6e  continues,  ;*  how  any 
niod  can  doubt,  that  «  co-operation  in 
fuch  a;i  ^xptcUent,  by  pow$;r8  in  auutv 


Vith  England,  If  i  Violation  of  (he  duttw 
«f  neutrality." 

He  adds,  that  **  this  very  motive  icf 
4)pening  the  colonial  ports  if  avowed  la 
the  publick  instruments,  by  which  ther 
were  opened.  With  the  first  news  of  n 
4war  the  orders  of  the  mother  country  to 
open  t^ose  ports  are  dispatched,  as  df 
course.  Neutrals  can  shew  no  treaty,  06 
convention  with  the  enemies  of  Great- 
Britain,  as  a  title  to  these  privileges,  that 
:grow  out  of  war,  begin  and  end  with  it/ 

Page  183.  He  considers  the 
probsSftlity  of  a  quarrel  with  the 
neutral  powers,  in  consequence  qf 
Ae  resort  to  the  remedy  he  ha^ 
recommended,  i.e.  of  withdrawing 
:the  indulgence  hitherto  allowed  to 
this  trade  ;  and  he  endeavours, 
3dly,  to  vindicate  the  firudence  of 
the  remedy  by  shewing,  that  th^ 
neutral  powers  will  not  quarrei 
with  England  on  that  account.  H9 
firmly  believes  they  wilj  not,  be- 
cause he  is  sure  they  ought  no^ 
On  this  head,  the  writer  seet^l 
<^isposed  to  speak  of  the  Unite^ 
States  with  some  respect-  H^ 
thinks  the  Amewcans  are  a  saga*- 
cious  people,  who  will  Dot  fail  tp 
discern  Uieir  interest ;  that  they 
respect  justice,  and  therefore  wilj 
acquiesce  in  the  exercise  by  Great^ 
Bi;itain  of  her  ju^  rights,  as  a  belr 
Hgerent ;  and  that,  being  lovers  of 
liberty,  they  will  not  like  to  se^ 
France  lord  of  the  ;iayies,  as  weU 
Its  of  the  armies  of  Europe. 

^  But  (he  goes  op  to  si^y,  page  W^ 
kks  would  not  recommend  a  total  prohir 
bition  of  the  colonial  trade,  though  h^ 
maintains  the  rigbi  of  Great-Britain  to 
interdict  it  without  reserve.  We  might 
eitend  to  all  tl^  French  colonial  ports 
the  privileges,  enjpyed  by  Americans  at 
some  of  those  ports  in  time  of  peace 
(wl^ch  privileges  he  8peci6e8)  ;  nay,  we 
might  allow  such  an  intercourse  with  the 
colonics  of  Spain  and  Holland."  "  The 
farmers  of  America  would  in  that  cast 
find  the  same  market  for  their  produce, 
&nd  of  course  they  would  be  Jon  the  ^i^ 
/of  conciliation  and  peace/* 


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:« 


ITAR  IN  BXSOyiSI. 


But  titn  i  waf  ^th  tbe  neutral 
|K>wers,  bad  at  he  admits  such  a 
var  to  be,would  be  a  less  evil  than 
the  abuses  of  neutrality. 

^  Peace  widi  the  neatral  powers  it  more 
likely,  after  all,  (he  sap)  to  be  preserved 
by  a  firm  than  a  puiiUanimous  conduct.'* 

"  To  conclude  :  a  temperate  assertion 
ef  the  true  principles  of  the  law  of  war, 
in  rei^ard  to  neutral  commerce*  seems,  a^ 
iar  as  human  foresight  can  penetrate* 
gtioUial  tc  mr  fuUUk  m/et^ 

On  the  soundness  of  the  doc* 
trine  of  this  writer,  it  belongs  to 
the  ablest  American  jurists  and 
statesmen  to  pronounce  a  decision. 
-As  the  pamphlet  is  written  with 
considerable  ability,  and  no  little 
labour  of  research ;  as  it  is  thought 
by  many  to  convey  the  sense  of  the 
£nglish  government,  and  probably 
expresses  the  opinion  of  the  nation 
too,  it  is  obvious,  that  it  will  sig- 
nify nothing  on  our  side^to  attempt 
mxk  answer  either  by  sophistry  or 
invective.  Indeed  the  answer  will 
no  less  disgrace  than  disappoint 
America,  if  it  should  prove  defir 
dent  either  in  candour  or  solidity. 
."What  can  be  plainer,  than  that 
nations,  when  they  disagree,  must 
appeal  to  reason,  if  they  will  not 
resort  to  force  ?  If  they  do  not 
choose  to  fight,  they  must  nego- 
ciate  ;  and  if  they  negociate,  they 
must  argue.  Though  our  first 
anagistrate  assures  us,  that  reason 
is  the  umpire  between  just  nations, 
yet  with  his  unfortunate  and  very 
unphilosophical  antipathy  against 
the  British  nation  and  government, 
and  afiter  all  the  false  and  silly 
things  his  adherents  have  said  a- 
gainst  the  British  treaty,  negocia- 
tion  is  understood  to  be  the  last 
expedient,  to  which  our  adminis- 
tration will  think  of  resorting.  It 
is  palpably  clear  to  common  sense, 
that  it  should  have  been  the  first. 
For  had  an  attempt  been  made  to 
Begociate  when  the  British  treaty 


was  near  exiuiing ;  when  thi 
Britbh  cabinet  wished  to  make 
friends  ;  and  was  discouraged  to 
see  itself  without  any  ;  there  is  no 
doubt  the  dispute  might  have  been 
prevented.  At  any  rate,  it  would 
have  been  anticipated  ;  and  if  our 
merchants  had  anticipated  it,  they 
would  have  saved  some  milUons  of 
dollars^  which  have  since  been  cap- 
tured and  condemned.  Thus  it 
Is,  that  the  people  have  to  pay  for 
the  national  partialitieii  and  aver- 
sions of  their  rulers. 

If  our  administration  should  at- 
tempt to  frame  a  new  treaty,  thejr 
will  not  find  in  the  federalists,  we 
hope,  the  same  want  both  of  sens» 
and  principle,  that  fostered  and 
protracted  the  opposi^on  to  Mr. 
Jay's.  The  negociation,  it  must 
be  confessed,  will  be  attended  with 
great,  we  hope  not  insurmount- 
able difficulties;  and  ^o  man  of 
sense  will  expect  from  it  the  re*' 
covery  of  every  lucrative,  neutral 
advantage,  that  w©  have  at  some 
times  enjoyed,  Our  commercial 
and  political  situation  would  be 
much  mended,  if  it  vere  better  as- 
certained ;  if  our  merchants  knew 
what  was  safe,  instead  of  conjec- 
turing in  the  dark,  what  is  right, 
what  is  permitted,  or  what  will  be 
maintained. 

Great  Britain  post  certainly  is 
Inverse  tp  a  war  with  America. 
She  is  not  only  interested  in  our 
commerce  and  friendship, but  dear^ 
ly  concerned  to  conciliate  the  ex* 
erci^e  of  her  naval  supremacy,  if 
it  be  possible,  with  the  judgment 
and  conviction  gf  the  wise  and  able 
men  among  the  neutral  nations. 
Popular  clamour,  unsupported  by 
that  judgment,  will  soon  expire  ; 
but  the  serious  and  steady  censure 
of  the  wise  will,  in  the  end,  augr 
ment  the  hatred  and  resentment, 
naturally  engendered  by  her  pow- 
er, which  will  seek  all  opportuni- 


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CORRXSPOKDHNCB. 


^ 


6es  to  obstruct  its  energies,  and 
will  surely  find  some  at  last  to  sub- 
Tcrt  its  foundations.  Nothing,  we 
know  from  observation  and  expe- 
rience, proves  so  fatal  to  the  dura- 
tion of  any  sort  of  dominion,  as  the 
■wantonness  of  its  abuse.  Great- 
Briuin^sitHji^^  by  her  navy,  by  her 
insular  position,  by  her  liberty,  and, 
perhaps,  not  less  so  by  her  justice, 
vill  desire,  will  endeavour,  and 
(fughc  really  to  make  considerable 
saciiiict^,  rather  than  not  succeed 
to  gain,  in  favour  of  her  maiitime 
principles,  the  acquiescence,  if  not 
the  applause  of  the  w^cU  informed 


and  fair  minded  clasBCS  of  men  in 
the  neutral  states. 

The  American  re-impression  of 
this  pamphlet  is  executed  in  a  style 
of  great  typographical  elegance* 
and  prefaced  with  the  following 
short  notice. 

**  It  was  intended  to  hare  prefixed  t« 
thif  edition*  an  introduction  of  some 
length,  exposing,  in  a  succinct  manner, 
some  of  the  sophistries  with  which  this 
singular  work  abounds,  by  way  of  put* 
ting  the  reader  on  his  guard  against 
them  ;  but  as  it  is  now  proposed  to  fol- 
low it  shortly  with  a  formal  answer,  noth* 
ing  more  is  thought  necessary  here,  tham 
merely  to  appn^^e  the  reader  of  this 
circumstance.'* 


CORRESPOljnDENCE. 


WE  readily  inl«rt  the  ffl* lowing  note, 
■ot  becaufe  we  are  flattered  by  its  po- 
Iiceoef»,  hut  becaufe  we  think  it  fairly 
dofcs  the  controverfy,  in  which  we  have 
been  en^»ed.  What  the  writers  may 
gaia  by  Mifa  Adams's  (ilence  we  are  not 
■nxious  to  inquire,  fince  we  lofe  nothing, 
while  our  ftatements  remain  uncontra* 
di^ed  by  the  worthy  woman,  whole 
namewehaye  relii(fUntly  brought  before 
tlie  poblick. 

NOTE 
7*  the  Edihrs  •/  the  AntMogy, 

The  Authors  of  the  **  Compendious 
Hiftory  of  New  England,"  replied  to  the 
xerietr  of  their  work,  merely  to  defend 
thcmfelves  againft  falfe  charges  and  in- 
fcraatioQs, exhibited  againd  them,  which. 
U  they  remained  uncontradi(5led,nught 
liaTe  left  wron^  impre^on,^  on  t^e  minds 
of  iomt  of  the  readers  of  the  Anthology. 
They  had  a  rig^t  to  expedl  different 
treatment  from  a  body  of  men,  who 
doobtlefs  lay  claim  to  the  charadker  of 
gentlemen  and  chrifHans.  With  the  au^ 
thor  of  the  remarks  on  their  reply  they 
rmainly  can  have  no  controverfy. 
They  are  happy  that  his  pame  is  con- 
cealed from  then»  ^d  the  publick. 
They  envy  him  not  any  fatisfacflioq, 
which  he  may  now,  or  hereafter  feel  iii 
lefle^ng   on  this  tronfafStion. 

The  authors  of  the  Compendious  Hif- 
tory feel  no  relu<flance  in  refting  their 
rq«tation  with  the  publick,  as  to  the 
nauer  in  controverfy  between  them  and 
the  Reviewers,  on  the  fadls  already  pub- 
H(hfd.  If  Mifs  Adams  herfelf  has  any 
romplaint  againfl  them,  and  (hall  think 
•rtiiper  to  m^  it  known  to  them,  they 


will  afTuredly  liften  to  it  with  friendly 
attention,  and  promptly  do  what  in  them 
Ues  to  remove  it. 

With  the  Reviewers,  and  every  other 
anonymous  writer  on  this  fubje<ll,thcy  now 
take  a  final  leave.  ' 


Gentlemen,  Jan.  az,  i8o5. 

YOU  will  pleafe  give  the  incloCed  a  place  in  the 
Anthology  for  Taniury,  and  oblige 

Your  humble  fcrvti.        GILBERT  &  DEAN. 

OUR  C^elipgs  having  been  severely 
wounded  by  the  appearance  of  a  para- 
graph in  the  Monthly  Antboiogy  for  Decern' 
ier  last,  conceminjg  the  miscellaneous 
works  of  Col.  David  ^umphkeys,  and 
which  did  not  meet  our  eye  until  the 
latter  end  of  last  week,  we  beg  leavc^ 
through  the  mediup  of  your  Anthology, 
to  express  opr  gratitude  to  that  gen« 
tWman  for  the  humanity  which  first 
prompted  him  to  present  us  with  the 
work  ;  himself  having  discharged  every 
demand  for  paper,  printing,  &c.  and  the 
hberality  with  which  he  allows  us  the 
use  of  several  hundred  dollar^,  which 
we  have  received  from  the  subscribers  to 
his  work,  and  of  which  he  has  never 
drawn  a  single  cent — conftantly  evading 
It,  whenever  we  have  requested  to  be 
permitted  to  settle  with  him. 

Of  the  abilities  of  Col.  Humphreys, at 
j^n  author  or /oc/,  better  judges  than  eitl^ 
er  the  Editors  of  the  Antholo^y^  or  our- 
felves,  mud  decide.  As  a  fuldievy  and  a 
pairicty  he  hau  deserved  well  of  his  coun* 
try — and  as  a  man  of  Unevolenctt  he  will 
be  gratefully  remembered  by  many  ;  but 
by  none  with  more  respect  and  esteem, 
than  his  obliged  humble  serv.int9, 

CILBBRT  U  PEAN. 


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XNTILUGENCe. 

Samuel  F.  Fradford,  of  Philadelphia,  tt' 
preparing  to  put  to  prefs,  The  Works  of 
Samuel  Johnfon,  LL.D.  in  eight  voiumea 
octavo.  This  edition,  the  publiflier  af- 
ferts,  vrill  be  much  cheaper  and  warran- 
ted more  correA  and  more  beautiful, 
than  the  lated  and  be  ft  London  editions^ 

American  edition  of  HudihrJM. — ^The  fuh- 
fcribers  have  juft  put  to  prefs,  and  will 
have  ready  for  fale  in  the  fpring,  a  new 
(and,  they  believe,  the  firft  American) 
edition  of"  Huoibras  :  in  three  parts- 
written  in  the  time  of  the  late  wars--bjr 
Samuxl  Butler  :  With  annotations,  k 
complete  index,  and  a  fliort  life  of  tbi 
author."  It  will  be  printed  from  the  beft- 
Edinburgh  edition,  on  wove  paper,  with 
m  neat  type,  and  will  comaiu  about  thret 


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56 


tlTERAKY   INTBLLlCEt^CE,  £P*f. 


hundred  pages,  duodecimo.  To  add  sny 
thing  to  the  itierit  of  a  poem,  which  for 
•riginal  wit  and  genuine  fat  ire  the  litera- 
ry world  confiders  unrivalled  and  inim- 
itable, would  be  as  unnecefTary  as  it 
would  be  difficult. 

Wright,  GoootNOw,  &  Stockwell. 
Troy,  N.  Y.  Jan.  14,1806. 

Dr.  Cowdery  has  it  in  contemplation 
to  publiHi  a  pamphlet,  or  fmall  volume, 
to  be  entitled,  The  American  captives  in 
Tripoli,  containing  the  particulars  of  the 
capture  of  the  Philadelphia  frigate — a 
general  defcription  of  Tripoli,  with  the 
adjacent  country,  its  curiofuies,  &c.  and 
a  iketch  of  the  cufloms  and  manners  of 
its  inhabitants.  To  which  will  be  added, 
the  journal  at  length,  kept  during  his 
captivity,  and  kn  appendix  containing 
the  treaties  and  general  relations  between 
the  United  States  and  the  Barbary  pow- 
ers. Some  accurate  views  and  drawings 
will  be  attached  to  the  work. 

Mr.  Cuffiing,  of  Amherft,  Newhamp* 
{hire,  has  iiTued  propofals  for  continu- 
ing the  publication  of  The  Pifcataqua 
j^vangelical  Magazine.  This  work, 
which  was  publiHied  the  laft  year  at 
Portfmouth,  has  for  its  object  the  pro- 
motion of  religious  knowledge  and  evan- 
gelical piety,  particularly  among  the  com- 
mon people,  who,  it  is  believed,  ufually 
feel  the  greateft  interefb  in  works  of  tlus 
nature.  This  magazine  will  contain  ef- 
faysofamoral  and  religious  tendency, 
biographical  fkctches,occa(ional  illuftra- 
tions  of  fcripture,  accounts  of  remarka- 
ble providential  occurrences,  &c.  &c. 
It  will  be  publiHied  in  numbers  every 
two  months,  each  number  conuining 
mot  lefs  than  forty  pages  odlavo. 

Mr.  Jofeph  Scott,  author  of  the  mod- 
em geographical  di<5Uonary,  4  vols.  8vo. 
didkienary  of  the  United  Sutes,  &c.  &c. 
has  iiTued  propofals  for  publiHiing,  in  a 
neat  duodecimo  volume,  A  geographical 
•  defcription  of  the  State  of  Pcnnlylvania, 
Including  an  account  of  the  rivers,moun- 
taios,  trees,  animals,  foil,  climate,  difeafes, 
mineral  fprmgs,  ores  follils,  produce, 
fruit,  farms,  manufa<5kures,  publick  im- 
provements, roads,  canals,  bridges,  edu- 
cation, colleges,  and  academies.  Alfo,  a 
defcription  of  the  counties  ;  the  extent, 
lioundaries,  and  number  of  acres  in  each  ; 
the  rivert,  creeks,  &c.  and  number  of 
Hm^toTi  and  repreleatativeii  which  aach 


is  entitled  to  fend  to  the  general  afleitt^ 
bly.  With  an  alphabetical  lid  of  the 
townfliips  ill  each  county,  and  their  pa- 
pulation, according  to  the  cenfus  of 
]  800.  Illufb^ed  with  a  handfoma  map 
of  the  date. 


STATEMENT  OF    DISEASES, 

FOR    JANUARY. 

THE  weather,  during  the  first  part 
of  this  month  was  cold  and  clear* 
This  was  succeeded  by  milder  wea« 
ther,  with  rain  and  frequent  snows. 
Afterwards,  extreme  cold,  continued 
and  heavy  snow,  rain  with  violent 
winds  followed  by  a  perfect  calnit 
which  has  continued  through  the  lat- 
ter part  of  the  months  attended  with 
a  thaw,  and  a  very  moist  and  foggy 
atmosphere.  The  last  circumstances 
will  very  probably  influence  the  char- 
acter of  disorders  in  the  month  of 
February. 

Inflammatory  diseases  have  been 
most  prevalent ;  but  even  of  these 
the  number  has  been  small.  Among 
children  under  three  years,  there  has 
appeared  a  sevefe  catarrh  ;  in  those 
above  this  period,  peripneumony  ;  in 
adults,  pleurisy  and  peripneumony. 
All  these  diseases  have  yielded  readily 
to  the  power  of  medicine.  Very  few 
instances  of  fever  have  occurred,  and 
scarcely  any  of  severe  rheumatism. 
Apoplexy  has  been  unusuallf  com- 
mon. 


Editors*  Xotea. 


AMONG  the  few  bookfellen.  who  have  tranP 
mitted  to  us  for  our  notice  or  review  the  books 
which  they  have  pobliOicd,  wc  mention  with 
graticude  mcnira.  Riley  &  Co.  of  New-York.  We 
nope  they  will  not  accufe  m  of  neglect  In  not 
having  yet  noticed  any  of  the  numerous  voiun<es 
which  wc  have  Uicly  received  from  their  liber- 
ality, for  in  truth  the  pages  destined  to  revieva. 
In  leveral  of  our  late  numbers,  have  been  en- 
tirely filled  with  materials,  which  we  have  bad  t 
long  time  ou  liand. 

We  have  been  much  furprlfed  at  hearing,  that 
feveral  of  our  readers  believed,  that  the  remarks 
upon  Rev.  Dr.  Holmes  and  Mrs.  Warren,  in  the 
review  of  the  Hiliorlcal  Collections  in  our  Uft 
number,  were  farcaftick,  IIHherai,  and  dlfrcfpeft- 
ftii.  "^'e  certainly  never  intended  to  convey  fuch 
opinions,  and  we  know  that  a  critical  analyfis  of 
the  fentences  In  the  review  would  not  Ju(Hff 
fuch  a  conrtruction.  Perhaps  however  we  were 
obfcure  in  the  compofltion.  and  perhaps  foine 
of  our  friends  were  carelcfs  in  the  penifal.  Wri- 
ters are  not  always  perfpicuow,  and  rcaden  are 
aot  always  intellectual. 


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FEBRUARY,    1806. 


FOR    THE    JiJ^THOLOGY. 


ACCOUIfT   OF   THE   ANCIENT   LIBRARY   Ol^   ALEXANDRIA. 

CCoDCludcd.3 

3.    w#  critical  examination  of  the  recital  of  AbtUpharagiu9  and  Abdollatif 

As  a  story  is  not  absolutely  incon- 
testibk)  because  it  is  related  by  one 
or  two  witnesses,  some  have  doubt- 
ed this.  Renaudot,  in  his  history 
of  the  patriarchs  of  Alexandria, 
has  shaken  its  authenticity  by  say- 
ing, "  //«'#  recital  has  something  aus- 
/iiciousy  as  is  very  common  among 
(he  Arabians.*'  At  length  Querci, 
the  two  Assemani,  Villoisin,  Gib- 
bon, and,  in  the  last  place,  the  au-* 
thor  of  the  German  dissertation, 
have  all  declared  their  disbelief  of 
the  fact. 

Gibbon  remarks,  that  two  an- 
nalists, both  of  Egypt,  have  not 
said  one  word  of  a  circumstance 
so  remarkable.  The  first  is  Euty- 
chius,  a  patriarch  of  Alexandria, 
who  lived  there  three  hundred 
years  after  the  capture  of  the  city 
by  the  Saracens,  and  wlio,  in  his 
annals,  has  given  a  very  long  his- 
tory of  the  siege  and  of  the  events 
which  succeeded.  The  second  is 
El-Macin,  a  very  veracious  writer, 
author  of  the  history  of  the  Sara- 
cens, and  who  particularly  relates 
in  minute  detail  the  life  of  Omar 
and  the  taking  of  Alexandria.  Is 
it  to  be  conceived,  is  it  credible, 
that  these  two  historians  were  ij^- 
norant  of  a  circumstance  so  impor- 
tant ;  that  two  learned  men,  whom 
such  a  loss  would  have  greatly  in- 


>>  E  may  reasonably  suspect  that, 
since  Abdollatif  was  the  first  his- 
torian, Abulpharagius  had  seen 
t^iis  passage,  and  has  only  commen* 
ted  upcn  and  embellished  it  after 
his  own  manner.  Abdollatif  does 
not  relate  any  of  the  circumstances 
which  attended  the  destruction  of 
the  library  ;  but  what  confidence 
can  be  placed  in  a  writer  who  re* 
lates,  that  he  saw  what  we  know 
no  longer  existed  at  that  time  ? 
"  I  have  seen,  says  he,  the  portico 
and  the  college  which  Alexander 
the  Great  built,  and  in  which  was 
contained  the  superb  library."  Now 
these  buildings  were  placed  in  the 
Bruchion,  and  since  the  reign  of 
Aurelian,  who  had  caused  them  to 
be  destroy- ed,  that  is  to  say,  at  least 
nine  hundred  years  before  Abdol- 
ladf,  the  Bruchion  was  no  better 
than  a  barren  wilderness  covered 
with  ruins. 

Abulpharagius,  on  his  part,  pla- 
ces the  library  in  the  royal  fialace. 
The  anachronism  is  equally  appa- 
rent. The  royal  buildings,  being 
all  in  the  Bruchion,  could  not  have 
remained  at  that  time.  Besides, 
what  signified  the  royal  fialace  in  a 
country  which,  for  a  long  time 
before,  had  had  no  king8,and  which 
had  submitted  to  the  emperoura  of 
Ibe  east  ? 
.     Vol.  III.  No.  2.    H 


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ANCIKXT    LIBRARY    OF    ALEXAXDillA. 


terested,  should  not  have  made 
any  mention  of  it  ;  men,  v>\\o 
lived,  who  wrote  at  Alcxandiia, 
and  one  of  whom  (Kutychius)  at  an 
epoch  very  near  the  event  ;  and 
that  we  should  have  tiic  Rrst  infor- 
mation from  a  foreip;ner,  who  wrote 
siK  centuries  afterwards  gn  the 
frontiers  of  Media  ? 

Bcsides,Gibhon  further  observes, 
how  could  the  caIiph()mar,who  was 
himself  by  no  moans  an  enemy  of 
the  sciences,  have  acted  oh  this  oc- 
casion against  his  own  particular 
character,  while  he  hadonly^to  ex- 
cuse himself  from  such  an  act  of 
barbarism,the  sentiment  of  the  cas- 
uists of  theMussulmanlaw?  These 
declare  (see  the  third  volume  of 
the  Dissertations  of  Reland  on  the 
military  law  of  the  Mahontetans) 
«  that  it  was  unlawful  to  burn  the 
religious  books  of  the  Jews  or 
Chi-istians,  on  account  of  the  name 
of  God  which  they  contained,  and 
that  the  works  of  profane  science, 
of  historians  or  poets,  physicians  or 
philosophers,  may  be  lawfully  ap- 
pUed  to  the  use  of  the  faithful." 
This  decision  discovers  no  spirit 
of  Vandalism. 

To  these  reasons  Mr.  K.  Rein- 
hard  adds  his  own.  He  remarks, 
that  Eutychius  in  his  annals  (vol. 
ii.  page  3 1 6)  records  the  words  of  a 
letter,  in  which  Amrou  gives  an 
account  to  the  caliph  Omar  of  the 
taking  of  Alexandria,  after  a  long 
and  obstinate  siege.  I  have  taken 
the  city,  says  he,  sword  in  hand, 
and  without  previous  capitulation. 
/  cannot  describe  to  you  the  treas' 
urea  it  contains.  Let  it  suffice  to 
inform  youy  that  I  have  found  four 
thousand  /laiaces,  four  thousand 
baths^  forty  thousand  taxablt  Jews^ 
four  hundred  theatres,  twelve  hun^ 
dred  gardeners  selling  vegetables. 
Thy  Alussulmen  demand  the  pillage 
of  the  city  and  a  division  of  the 
sfioiC^.     Omar,  in  his  answer,  dis- 


approves of  tills  demand,  and  se* 
verely  prohibits  all  pillage  and  di- 
lapidation. 

We  observe,  that  Amrou,  in  his 
olTicial  relation  of  his  conquest, 
seeks,  as  is  the  custom  in  our  days, 
to  exaggerate  its  value  and  impor- 
tance. He  does  not  omit  a  bar- 
rack, nor  a  Jew,  nor  a  gardener. 
How  could  he  have  forgotten  the 
library  ?  He  whom  Abulpharagius 
^describes  as  a  friend  of  the  arts 
and  philosophy  ?  Could  he  have 
thought,  that  tl»is  celebrated  and 
ancient  monument  was  not  of  suffi* 
cient  value  for  him  to  have  taken  tlie 
trouble  to  render  some  account  of  it  ? 

El-Macin  also  records  the  letter 
of  Amrou,  nearly  iia  the  same 
words  ;  he  says  not  one  word  of 
the  library.  It  may  be  ebjected, 
that  this  letter  was  perhaps  never 
written  by  Amrou,  and  that  the 
two  histoiians  have  forged  it  :  but 
this  would  be  an  additional  reason, 
why  the  library  should  have  been 
mentioned,  had  it  remained  at  that 
time.  Would  they  both  have  o- 
mitted  an  article,  which  must  havo 
appeared  of  such  vast  importance 
in  the  eyes  of  learned  men,  inhab- 
itants of  Alexandria  ?  Would  they 
have  prided  themselves  of  appear- 
ing better  informed  on  baths,  and 
of  kitchen  gardens,  than  of  the  li- 
brary ?  But  if  the  letter  be  authen- 
tick,  as  its  contents  give  us  reason 
to  believe,  we  must  also  pay  some 
attention  to  the  answer  of  the  ca- 
lif, who  orders  them  to  spare  ev- 
ery thing  found  in  the  city. 

We  may  then  vnthout  much 
hazard  draw  the  conclusion,  that 
the  library  of  the  Ptolemies  no 
longer  existed  in  6\o,  the  time  of 
the  taking  of  Alexandria  by  the 
Saracens. 

We  will  adduce  still  further 
proof,  founded  on  two  writers, 
nearly  cotemporaries  of  Omar, 
One  of  theiDy  John  Philoponua 


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59 


(whom  Gibbon  and  others  have 
confounded  with  John  the  gi*am- 
inarian,  of  whom  Abulpharagiiis 
speaks),  says,  in  Ids  conimeiitar)^ 
on  the  Anuly licks  of  Aristotle, 
**  that  in  the  ancient  librarLs  there 
%cere  found  forty  dilferent  books  of 
theAnalyticks.'*  He  does  not  ex- 
pressly iTicntion  the  libraries  of 
Alexandria  ;  but  he  lived,  he  wrote 
in  that  city,  where  they  doubtless 
called  the  libraries  by  distinction, 
and  he  could  not  here  speak  of  a- 
ny  others.  We  know  beside,froni 
Athen-eus,  Strabo,  and  Plutarch  in 
his  life  of  Sylla,  that  the  writings 
of  Aristotle  had  been  very  careful- 
ly collected  for  the  library  of  tlie 
Ptolemies. 

But  if  there  still  remains  a 
doubt,  let  us  consult  the  master  of 
Philoponus,  Ammonius  Hermias, 
in  his  observations  on  tlie  Catego- 
ries of  Aristotle.  He  lived  at  A- 
!exandria,before  the  invasion  of  the 
Saracens.  "  Ptolemy  Philadel* 
phus  (says  he)  has  the  reputation 
of  having  made  great  exertions  to 
collect  the  writings  of  Aristotle, 
an*d  to  have  liberally  recompensed 
those  who  collected  his  produc- 
tions^ in  consequence  of  which 
many  fictitious  copies  were  brought 
to  him,  and  in  the  great  library 
there  were  found  forty  different 
books  of  the  Analy ticks."  It  is 
very  certain,  that  Ammonius  and 
Philoponus  both  here  refer  to  the 
Alexandrian  library  ;  that,  which 
the  former  calls  the  greats  being 
the  same,  which  Uie  latter  denom- 
inates the  QTicient  library.  They 
both  mention  it  as  a  thing  which 
had  been^  and  which  remained  no 
longer*  Wc  may  even  believe, 
that  tliey  allude  to  the  library  of 
the  Serapion  ;  for  Philadelphus, 
who  collected  with  so  much  care 
the  writings  of  Aristotle,  would 
doubtless  have  placed  them  among 
\  coUectioa  whigh  be  originated^ 


and  for  which  he  had  a  great  par- 
tiality. 

If  we  consult  natural  proba- 
bilities, we  shall  find  them  against 
the  recital  of  Abulpharagius  and 
the  existence  of  a  library  in  the 
lime  of  Omar  and  Amrou.  The 
books  of  the  ancients  were  written 
on  parchment,  or  on  leaves  of  the 
papyrus.  Those  of  the  library  of 
Alexandria  must  have  been  par- 
ticularly of  this  last  kind,  as  the 
papyrus  was  an  '  Egyptian  plant. 
Now  the  leaves  of  the  papyrus  were 
very  subject  to  dissolution  and  to 
insects,  particularly  in  the  warm 
and  humid  climate  of  Alexandria, 
so  that  it  was  necessary  frequently 
to  renew  the  copies.  Can  we  be- 
lieve, that  all  the  necessary  care 
could  have  been  given  to  the  prcs* 
ervation  of  such  a  library  after  the 
reign  of  the  Ptolemies,  in  the 
midst  of  wars,  of  insurrections 
that  prevailed,  and  during  which 
the  taste  for  sciences  and  letters, 
as  we  well  know,  declined  I  The 
manuscripts  in  parchment,  which 
probably  were  not  numerous,might 
have  lasted  a  longer  time  ;  but  all 
the  others  must  have  become,  after 
two  or  three  centuries,  food  for 
worms. 

Abulpharagius  does  not  deter- 
mine the  number  of  the  books, 
which,  according  to  him,  were 
burnt ;  but,  says  he,  they  served 
for  six  months  to  heat  the  baths 
of  the  city,  and  we  know  that  these 
amounted  to  four  thousand.  "Hear 
and  wonder  1"  adds  he.  It  is  in- 
deed an  object  of  admiration ;  booksy 
which  heat  foijr  thousand  baths, 
durmg  six  months.  A  wit  might 
observe,  that  Amrou,  having  taken 
the  city  precisely  in  the  month  of 
May,  there  could  not  have  been  a 
great  necessity  of  hot  water  in  tho 
baths  of  Alexandria.  The  vol^ 
umes  or  rolls  of  the  ancients  were? 
not  comparable  to  ours  in  folioi, 


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ANCIENT  LIBRA&T   OT   ALEXANDRll. 


and  the  number  of  those  burnt,  at 
the  highest  estimation,  could  not 
amount  but  to  three  or  four  hun- 
dred thousand  ;  the  daily  portion 
of  each  bath  must  have  been  very 
small.  What  strangle  materials 
for  heating  these  cauldrons— old 

parchments  and  rolls  of  papyrus  1 !     the  recital  of  Abuipharagius. 
There  must  have  proceeded  a  most 


exquisite  perfume  for  the  four 
thousand  baths,  and  the  whole  cit3r. 
These  two  ingredients  might  have 
well  given  an  insufferable  smoke^ 
but  could  not  serve  to  heat  water. 
This  last  absurdity  is  one  of  the 
reasons,  not  the  least  strong,  against 


4.     Conjee turea  on   the  ultimate  fate  qf  the  library. 


If  it  be  then  true,  as  it  appears, 
that  in  640,  the  time  when  Alex- 
andria  was  taken  by  Amrou,  the 
celebrated  library  no  longer  re- 
mained ;  in  what  manner  was  it 
dispersed  and  destroyed  after  4 1 5, 
when  Orosius  assures  us  he  had 
seen  it  ?  We  will  first  remark, 
that  Orosius  speaks  only  of  some 
cascB  which  he  saw  in  the  temples, 
and  not  of  the  library  pf  the  Ptol- 
emies, which  was  deposited  in  the 
Serapion.  Recollecting  also  the 
troubles  and  the  constant  wars,  of 
which  Egypt  was  the  theatre,  from 
the  time  of  the  first  Roman  em- 
perors, we  must  be  astonished,  that 
there  remained  any  traces  of  the 
library  in  posterior  times.  Under 
Commodus  the  temple  of  Serapis 
Buffered  much  by  a  fire,  but  with- 
out being  totally  destroyed,  when 
the  library  m\ist  of  course  have 
been  much  injured.  We  also 
know  the  devastations,  which  the 
malicious  genius  of  Caracalla  made 
in  Alexandria.  The  Museum  was 
demolished.  Under  Aurelian  the 
whole  of  the  Bruchion  was  des- 
troyed. This  emperor  took  the 
city  and  delivei'edit  to  the  plun- 
der of  his  soldiers. 

Th^odosius  the  Great,  at  last, 
stimulated  by  the  exhortations  of 
the  bishop  of  Theophilus,  reduced 
to  ashes  in  the  year  391  the  Sera* 
pis.  It  is  very  certain,  that  all  the 
buildings  attached  to  the  temple 
were  at  this  time  a  prey  to  the 
Aanaes.     The  destruction  of  the  li-- 


brary  must  then  be  imputed  to  the 
christians  ;  and  we  can  hardly 
doubt,  that  the  blind  zeal  of  the 
early  ages  induced  men,  lit- 
tle enlightened,  to  destroy  books 
and  monuments  which  they  thought 
might  perpetuate  or  remind  them 
of  the  worship  of  idols.  If,  after 
this,  any  portion  of  the  library  re- 
mained, it  is  probable  that  the  sec- 
ond Theodosius,  as  fond  of  books 
as  Ptolemy,  might  have  appropri- 
ated them  to  his  own  use.  If  af- 
ter this  any  thing  had  remained  at 
Alexandria,  what  must  have  be- 
come of  it  during  the  wars  which 
took  place  in  its  walls  between  Cy- 
rillus  and  Orestes  ;  and  during  the 
commotions  which  agitated  it  un- 
der the  emperour  Marcian  ?  It  ia 
very  probable,  that  there  were  thea 
Very  considerable  drafts  upon  it. 
The  monks  transferred  many  vol- 
umes to  their  monasteries  ;  the 
cmperours  of  the  east  toConstanti- 
nople,and  toother  cities,where  they 
established  schools.  There  is  then 
no  doubt  that,  towards  the  com- 
mencement of  the  ninth  century, 
a  large  quantity  of  ancient  books 
was  found  dispersed  throughout 
Egypt.  Leo  Afticanus  relates^ 
that  the  caliph  Mamou  sent  into 
Syria,  Armenia,  and  Egypt  many 
persons  with  a  commission  to  col- 
lect and  purchase  ancient  books, 
and  that  they  returned  loaded  with 
Inestimable  treasures. 

Further  let  us   recollect,  that 
under  HeracUus  the  Persians  took 


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BETTERS  FROM  EUROPE. 


01 


and  pillaged  Alexandria,  irhich 
thcjr  abandoned  a  short  lime  after- 
wards ;  then  came  the  Arabs,  who 
could  not  possibly  discover  there 


the  library,  unless  it  had  been  mi- 
raculously preserved,  of  which 
unhappily  we  have  no  record  in 
the  history  of  literature. 


FOR     THE     AK  THOLOG  Y. 

LETTERS  FROM    EUROPE. 


M.  2. 


KapleM„jafifiearance  of  the  strertSj  housea,  and  fico/ile,.Mra(la  Toledo,,,^ 
the  villa. ..suburb  qf  Kiaja. 


Naples  ranks  as  the  third  city 
in  Europe  in  point  of  size  ;  its  pop- 
ulation is   said  to  amount  to  six 
hundred  thousand,  but  more  prob- 
ably  it    contains    less    than   two 
thirds  that  number.     It  stands  at 
the  extremity  of  its  beautiful  bay, 
and  one  side  extends  nearly  to  the 
base  of  mount  Vesuvius.     It  is 
built  at  the  feet  and  on  the  sides  of 
several  hills,  the  highest  of  which 
rises  about  midway  between  each 
extremity,  and  is  crowned  by  the 
castle  of  St.  Elmo.     As  the  area 
on  which  the  city  is  constructed 
Is  not  very  extensive,  the  houses 
rise  to  the  height  of  seven  and 
eight  stories,  and  are  many  of  them 
very  large  and  magnificent.        « 
The   streets    are     remarkably 
clean,  having  a  descent  from  the 
lulls  mto  the  bay,  into  which  the 
rain  washes  all    the   dirt.     The 
pavement  of  them  is  the  finest  in 
the  world.     It  is  hewed  from  the 
bTa  in  square  pieces  of  equal  size, 
and  is  laid  in  mortar  ;    there  is  no 
sideways,  but  the  whole  street  is 
eren  as  a  fioor.     This  mode  of  pa- 
Ting  is  expensive  at  the  moment^ 
but  is  very  durable,  aa  there  are 
▼cry  few  carts  or  heavy  vehicles  in 
the  city. 

The  Btrada  Toledo  may  vie 
with  any  street  in  Europe.  Jt 
kneariy  a  mile  in  length  and  ter^ 
minates  at  one  end  in  the  Largo 
del  Palazzo,  where  the  royal  palace 
JB  moated,  and  in  the  other  in  the 


place  of  the  Spirito  Santo,  in  which 
there  is  a  colossal  e(|uestrian 
statue.  The  street  contains  sev- 
eral superb  palaces  of  the  nobility. 
I  reside  with  a  friend  who  has  a 
noble  apartment  in  a  palace  on  this 
street,  from  the  balconies  of  which 
I  take  great  pleasure  in  regard- 
ing the  crowds  with  which  it  is 
thronged.  The  carriages  ai^  very 
numerous  and  driven  m  :th  a  veloci- 
ty, which  seemed  to  me  dangerous 
and  unfeeling  to  the  crowd  on  foot ; 
though  I  amHold,  and  believe  it  to 
be  true,  that,  as  the  people  are 
aware  of  this,  they  take  care  to  get 
out  of  the  way,  and,  if  they  drove 
slower,  the  obstruction  would  be  so 
great  that  they  would  never  get  a- 
long.  The  population  of  this  city  is 
a  motley  mixture,composed  princi- 
pally of  beggars,  monks,  and  sol- 
diers. The  dresses  are  of  all  forma 
and  colours,  and  have  many  of 
them  a  whimsical  look.  This  fine 
street  is  disgraced  in  some  places 
l>y  being  made  a  market  place,  and 
the  stalls  obstruct  the  sides  of  the 
way. 

Some  of  the  houses  are  built 
of  lava  entirely,  others  have  only 
the  foundations  of  l^va  and  the 
walls  constructed  with  fragments 
of  softer  stone,  and  stuccoed  ;  they 
have,  all  of  them,  stone  staircases. 
The  floors  of  the  rooms,  even  of 
the  bedchambers,  are  laid  with 
tiles  or  bricks.  Each  story  is  in- 
habited by  a  separate  fitmily,  and 


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BILVA. 


^e  staircase  is  as  common  as  the 
street,  but  npt  always  so  clean. 
The  windows  open  down  to  the 
floor,  and  are  furnished  with 
balconies. 

The  strada  Kiaja  is  the  shortest 
communication  between  the  sub* 
urbs  of  that  name  and  the  city. 
This  street  was  formerly  obstruct* 
cd  by  a  high  hill,  which  one  of 
their  sovereigns  cut  through  ;  but, 
in  order  to  preserve  the  connection 
between  the  two  parts  of  the  city 
buiH  on  the  hiil,  an  arch  was 
thrown  across  from  one  side  to  the 
other,  over  which  the  street  passes 
forty  feet  above  the  pavement  of 
the  strada  Kiaja,  which  terminates 
»t  the  villa.  This  is  a  publick 
walk  upon  the  borders  of  the  bayi 
It  is  decorated  with  some  fountains 
(ind  statues  ;  among  others  the  eel* 
ebrated  Farnese  Bull.  The  group 
of  figures  which  surround  it  are 
principally  modern,  though  admi* 
rably  executed.  Below  the  villa 
is  the  suburb  of  Kiaja,  principally 
inhabited  by  fishermen.  The  fash- 
ionable ride  for  carriages  in  the 
evening  is  called  the  Corsoy  and 
extends  from  the  villa  down  to 
Pausilino.  It  is  more  than  a  mile, 
and  the  road  lays  all  along  the  edge 
pf  the  bay.     Towards  the  evening 


it  is  much  crowded  with  caniagesi 
that  drive  backwa^-ds  and  forward^ 
for  an  hour  or  two,  and  enjoy  the 
freshness  of  the  evening.  Some 
of  the  equipages  are  brilliant,  and 
the  ladies  are  fond  of  shewing 
themselves  and  criticising  each 
other's  dress  and  appearance. 
Nothing  can  be  more  delicious 
than  this  ride  on  the  borders  of  the 
bay.  In  our  country  we  should 
not  think  of  taking  an  excursion 
for  pleasure  in  an  evening  in  the 
month  of  March  ;  but  here  naukin 
clothes  may  be  worn  all  winter, 
and  the  want  of  fire  is  seldom  felt. 
The  streets  are  not  lighted  ^  a 
few  solitary  lamps  only  are  seen 
hanging  before  the  picture  of  the 
virgin.  The  footmen  behind  thq 
carriages  carry  torches,  and  people 
m  the  street  are  generally  preceded 
by  a  servant  witli  a  torch .  D  uring 
the  early  part  of  the  evening  the 
number  of  these  torches  illumi- 
nates the  streets  sufficiently,  and 
have  a  brilliant  appearance,  though 
the  spot  and  smoke  of  them  are 
very  inconvenient.  They  are  ob-^ 
liged  to  extinguish  them  before 
t^ey  pass  the  palace,  on  account  of 
the  cannon  which  are  kept  loaded 
before  it. 


FOR     THE    A^TTHOLOGY. 
SILVA. 

Sfargh  agreftes  tthi  SUvm /ronda^^HoKACZ, 


M.  12. 


GRAY. 

GRAY  has  had  his  full  share  of 
reputation,  as  a  poet.  Mason  says, 
that  he  was^one  of  the  most  learn- 
ed men  in  Europe,  and  was  skilled 
in  all  arts  and  sciences  ;  .  tliis 
Johnson  hoped  vas  true,  but  seems 
to  intimate  his  doubts.  Johnson 
is  supposed  to  have  had  great 
prejudices  against  Gray  ;  I  know 
PQt,  that  %h^   supposition  is  well 


founded,  for  Johnson  highly  complin 
ments  his  Letters  and  his  Elegy  ; 
but,  because  he  thought  "the  Bard" 
ridiculous,  forsooth,  he  b  preju- 
diced. Warburton,Walpole,  Gib-i 
bon,  and  Smith  have  praised  him, 
and  perhaps  justly  ;  but  Gray*s 
admirers  are  not  contented  wkh 
the  high  applause,  lavished  on  his 
name  ;  they  demand  for  their  Ut^ 
voftuite  univcraal  acdangtatio^i  ai  iC 


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tlL^A, 


«J 


lie  had  mote  tenderness  than  Ovid, 
more  martial  pomp  than  Pindar. 
I  hare  good  reason  to  think,  that 
in  his  Elegf  and  his  Bard  he  has 
been  very  much  indebted  to  the 
Italian  poets,  particularly  to  Celio 
Magno  and  Petrarch.  This  sub- 
ject I  mean  not  now  to  investigate, 
for  I  have  not  lebure  ;  and  per- 
haps I  might  not  flash  conviction 
on  the  idolaters  of  this  poet. 
Some  of  niy  friends,  whose  taste 
in  general  I  love,  think  differently 
from  me  ;  but  I  candidly  confess, 
I  think  the  severities  of  Johnson 
on  Gray  more  justifiable,  than  the 
encomiastick  adulations  of  Wake- 
field. 

THfe    PLANE   TREE. 

Th*  filatarms  of  the  Romans 
should  be  called  "  the  old  batche- 
lor,'*  for  it  never  united  its  branch- 
es with  the  tendrils  of  the  vine. 
Horace  calls  it  *'  caledsy'  and  Mar- 
tial "  vidtuiy**  for  the  grape  vines 
were  never  married  to  the  plane 
tree,  as  to  tlie  elm  and  others. 
Old  batchelors  also  love  to  drink 
much  wine  ;  they  grow  fot  from 
the  juice  of  the  grape,  and  delight 
in  constant  potations .  So  the  plane 
tree  was  nounshed  by  wine,  as  we 
leam  from  Pliny,  "  compertum  id 
maxime  prodesse  radicibus  ;  doc- 
uimosque  etiam  arbores  vina  pO' 
tare  ;"  «  it  was  found  to  be  very 
DutritiGus  to  the  roots  of  the  plane 
tree ;  and  thus  We  have  taught 
even  trees  to  drink  wine."  Ma- 
crotnus  and  Valerius  Maximus  at- 
test  the  same  fact.  An  old  batch' 
tk)r  is  a  mere  plane  tree. 

GOLDSMITH. 

Who  shall  be  compared  to 
Goldsmith  ?  His  verse  is  softer  to 
the  ear,  than  the  pearl  of  the  sea 
to  the  nerve  of  vidon.  When  I 
tm  tired  with  other  reading,  its  in« 
iue&ce  is  gentlet  like  the  silent 


approaches  of  rain  in  the  drought 
of  summer.  It  flows  as  the  vil-' 
lage  brook,  which  gives  a  pleasant 
sound,  and  makes  the  fields  green 
and  fruitful.  I  read  him  with 
more  pleasure  than  Pope,  for  I 
believe  he  has  more  exquisite  sen^ 
timent ;  more  of  pure  morals  ; 
and  more  of  that  nature,  which 
bursts  out  in  Thomson,  which 
finds  a  ready  entrance  to  every 
heart,  that  is  not  corrupted  by  fol-' 
ly,  or  rendered  callous  hf  a  city 
Ufe.  He  has  written  little  poetry, 
yet  that  Utile  is  like  beads,  strung 
in  holy  rosaries,  or  the  continuo\is 
vibrations  of  Uie  harp  at  midnights 
All  is  musical  and  material  in 
Goldsmith's  verses.  If  you  take 
away  any  thing,  you  injure  the 
whole,  for  the  little  palace  in  fairy 
land  was  made  of  precious  stones, 
aind  the  dwarf  jewel  in  the  corner 
was  as  necessary ,as  the  queen  dia-» 
mond,  shining  in  the  centre.  Gold- 
smith's histories  are  not  excellent* 
They  were  written  for  booksellers 
or  bread,  and  therefore  composed 
in  a  hurry,  without  reflection  or 
labour  of  research.  His  «  Vicar 
of  Wakefield"  is  well  known,  and 
his  "Chizen  of  the  World"  I  read 
with  more  delight,  than  the  «  Per- 
sian letters"  of  Montesquieu.  I 
am  afraid  that  his  volume  of  Es- 
says is  little  read  ;  but  they  con- 
tain a  full  harvest  of  sense  in  a 
style,  simple  and  easy,  without 
Swift's  nudity  of  figure,  and  with- 
out HaMrkeswoith's  ornamental 
decoration. 

NATtJRE    IN  WINTER. 

How  inexhaustible  is  nature, 
how  creative  pf  pleasure !  That 
man  is  not  ethereal,  who  can  look 
abroad  on  the  world  without  emo- 
tion, and  then  retires  into  the  lit- 
tle chamber  of  his  soul,  indiflerent 
•  and  careless  of  what  b  without* 
In  the  winter  I  caimot  loiter  in  puie 


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8lLrA. 


woods,  or  ciimb  the  nut-trees  as  in 
autumn,  yet  I  love  to  look  on  the 
elm  in  a  clear  and  cold  mornings 
when  the  boughs  and  branches  are 
hung  with  ice  diamonds,  which 
the  sun  makes  moat  curious  and 
beautiful.  Even  the  little  snow- 
bird twitters  a  short  note,  which  I 
like  ;  and  the  note  is  much  louder, 
when  he  pecks  the  spider  from 
under  the  eaves  of  the  wood-house, 
where  be  was  sleeping  and  dream- 
ing of  the  flies  he  had  caught  in 
the  past  summer.  I  am  not  ex- 
clusively attached  to  books  or  to 
natui'e ;  for  how  melancholy  should 
I  have  often  been,  if  I  could  not 
philosophize  with  Tully  on  the 
vanity  of  life,  or  soar  to  heaven,  in 
rapt  imagination,  with  Milton.  But 
'  I  should  be  a  brute  if  I  saw  tho 
slanting  sun  in  winter,  and  did  not 
admire  the  steadiness  of  his  conrse» 
though  his  warmth  was  feeble, 
and  his  dominion  transitory.  £- 
ven  in  this  northerly  month  of  Feb- 
ruary, I  remarked  that  the  currant 
bushes  were  a  little  green  in  the 
buds,  Sc  I  picked  a  small  flower,pur- 
ple  and  white,  from  a  bed  of  straw- 
berry vines,  where  the  earth  was 
warm  and  full  of  coming  fruitful- 
ness.  All  have  their  reveries.  I 
shelter  myself  with  Thomson 
and  his  robin,  with  Cowper  and 
his  minnows,  and  with  Burns  and 
the  family  bible. 

SWIFT. 

The  great  excellence  of  Swift 
is  his  manly  thinking.  His  style 
has  no  ornament,  but  is  close,  cor- 
rect, and  terse.  He  did  not  care 
for  figures  to  decorate  superficial 
thoughts  ;  he  well  knew  that  his 
deep  sense  in  pure,  easy  terms 
would  engage  the  head  and  heart 
of  every  thinking  reader.  He  is  a 
l^aia  gentleman,  who  tells  honest- 
ly what  he  believes,  and  his  belief 
was  adid  and  rational.    From  Bol- 


ingbrokc  he  acquired  no  splendour 
of  declamation  in  prose,  for  he 
probably  despised  it  ;  from  Pope 
he  did  not  learn  to  love  imagery 
and  sentiment  in  poetry,  because 
perhaps  he  thought  he  might  not 
equal  his  friend,  or  because  his 
Qimd  delighted  in  reflection,  more 
than  in  fancy.  He  resembled  Ar- 
buthnot  in  wit  and  sense,  yet  Ar- 
buthnot's  works  do  not  please  like 
the  writings  of  Swift.  Johnson 
has  praised  Arbuthnot,  but  it  is 
now  difficult  to  discover  the  rea- 
sons of  the  elogy.  The  rhymes 
of  Swift  have  been  often  praised^ 
but  never  beyond  their  real  merit. 
There  is  no  laborious  search  for 
correspondent  words  ;  no  altera- 
tion of  sense  for  the  convenience 
of  the  term  ;  but  all  the  rhymes 
are  musical,  and  the  sense  of  the 
whole  poem  is  connected  by  the 
perfect  regularity  of  the  individual 
parts.  If  Pope  and  Goldsmith 
are  studied  for  harmony  of  rhymcy 
Swift  should  be  added^  and  so 
create  a  triumvirate. 

WARBURTON      AND      BRATTOK. 

Warburton  Speaks  of  "  one 
Michael  Drayton."  A  g^t  may* 
mendon  a  dwarf  with  contempt* 
and  a  lion  may  despise  a  contest 
with  a  kid  ;  but  it  (Ud  not  become 
even  the  hierophant  of  England  to 
allude  obscurely  to  the  author  of 
"  Polyolbion"  •  and  "  the  Barons' 
wars."  Drayton  has  all  the  quunt« 
ness  of  Spenser.  He  had  an  eyet 
that  looked  carefully  and  curious- 
ly (HI  nature,  and  a  mind,  that  did 
not  despise  learning.  His  foicy 
was  creative  and  peculiar,  of  which 
his  description  oif  the  bosom  of  a 
fidr  lady  is  an  emin^it  example. 
Warburton  himself  had  a  towering 
imagination  ;  a  haughtiness  of 
character,  looking  high,  and  car- 
rying proclamation  of  importance. 
He  marched  in  his  episcopal  robe% 


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Vkt  •  cotkwal  in  fht  gArments  of" 
tntimph ;  and  his  demeanour  gave 
evideoce  of  an  uncontroied  spirit^ 
Mginating  in  the  consciousness  of 
unlimitfid  erudition,  and  of  a  high 
pboe  in  the  august  temple  of 
English  hierarchy.  But  Drayton, 
though  not  a  leriathan  in  literature, 
was  a  charming  poet  in  the  natural 
age  of  English  verse,  when  Chau< 
cer  was  read  ;  when  Spenser  was 
honoured  ;  when  Shakespeare  liv** 
ed ;  and  when  Sidney  played  at 
toamament  and  told  the  tales  6f  Ar- 
cadia. Burton  has  highly  praised 
lum,  and  the  learned  Selden  has 
written  notes  on  the  Polyoll^n. 
I  am  afraid,  that  we  do  not  ponder 
enough  on  the  poetick  pages  of 
English  bards,  who  wrote  curious- 
ly, but  most  pleasantly,  when  Eng- 
land was  young  in  letters.  We  do 
not  drink  at  the  foimtain,  where 
the  water  is  purest ;  we  do  not 
climb  to  the  top  of  the  tree,  where 
the  fruit  is  the  fairest ;  we  do  not 
ascend  to  the  summit  of  the  hill, 
where  the  prospect  is  widest  and 
the  air  most  sweet ;  but  our  indo- 
lence makes  us  grovel  below  ;  we 
gather  a  few  miits,  which  are 
ihriveUed ;  and  we  suck  in  tainted 
water,  which  had  corrupted  in  its 
course)  and  gives  no  nourishment. 

shakespkarb's  mulberry  trkb. 

O  Ji£  Gastrell  cut  down  the  mul- 
berry tree,  which  Shakespeare 
plimted  in  his  own  garden  at  Strat- 
ford. This  was  profanation  in- 
deed. The  legends  of  the  Catho- 
lick  church  teU  wonderful  stories 
about  bits  of  the  coffin  of  Jo- 
seph of  Arimathea,  and  the  house 
of  the  Virgin  Mary  at  Loret- 
ta.  What  miracles  might  not  the 
chips  of  the  mulberry  tree  have 
perfi^rmed  on  the  devout  minds  of 
the  worshippers  of  Shakespeare  ! 
Such  is  the  power  of  association, 
that,  in  very  flexible  fiMQciesy  we 

Vol.  UL  No.  3.    I 


may  eauly  beUeve,  ^at  the  most 
beautiful  thoughts  would  have  been 
produced  on  so  enthnsiastick  a  sub' 
ject.  We  might  have  had  from 
bards  of  purity  and  poetry  odea 
equal  to  "  the  dove*'  o£  Anlbreon, 
and  sonnets  superiour  to  ^<  the 
laurel"  of  Petrarch-  Gastrell  will 
hereafter  receive  no  mercy  from 
the  lovers  of  Shakespeare,  and  he 
will  and  ought  to  be  a  mark  for 
the  archers,  a  fit  subject  for  the 
keenest  shafts  of  the  satyrist.  The 
classical  traveller  visits  the  Tus-* 
culan  villa  of  Cicero,  and  no  longer 
finds  a  record  or  tradition  of  the 
spreading  plane  tree,  in  the  cool 
shade  of  which  Crassus  and  An-* 
tonius  discoursed  *'  de  oratore." 
In  like  manner,  when  the  pilgrim 
and  poet,  after  a  revolution  of  moro 
than  eighteen  hundred  years,  shall 
inquire  for  the  garden  of  Shake-* 
speare,  though  he  will  find  no  ves- 
tige and  hear  no  curious  tale  of 
the  mulberry  tree,  yet  his  righ- 
teous indignation  will  rejoice  at  the 
reflection,  that  perpetual  shame 
rests  on  the  name  of  Gastrell,  who 
unfeelingly  destroyed  in  full  luxu- 
riance the  hallowed  object  of  Shake- 
speare's cultivation <  No  peace 
shall  rest  on  his  tomb.  No  one 
shall  boast  a  lineage  from  tlie  Goth. 
Whenever,  in  coming  years,  the 
jubilee  of  Shakespeare  shall  be  kept 
with  pageantry  and  pomp,  with 
revelry  and  song  on  the  beoiks  of 
the  Avon,  the  names  of  those,  who 
love  the  poet,  shall  be  received 
with  welcome  and  gi*eeting,  but 
no  blessing  of  pleasant  remem- 
bi*ance  shall  descend  on  the  memory 
of  Gastrell,  and  his  name  shall  not 
mar  the  feast-time  and  merry  hoU 
iday  of  poetry  and  her  worshippers. 

LOVE  AWn   CBIVALRT. 

I  XEVER  believed  in  the  exist- 
ence of  a  golden  age,  when  shep- 
herds piped  under  trees^  and  when 


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MtVA. 


love  was  as  pure  a^  the  water  of 
the  brook  ;  but  I  have  sometimes 
imagined,  in  the  reverie  of  ro- 
mance, that  I  should  like  to  have 
lived  iy  the  feudal  ages,  «  when  all 
the  men  w^re  brave,  and  all  the 
Women  were  chaste."  The  times 
df  Arthur  and  the  khights,  of  Char- 
lemagne and  the  peers,  of  the  Vir- 
ginQueen,with  her  flower  of  chival- 
rv,  have  delighted  my  mind,  and 
entranced  my  imagination.  Love 
u\d  courage  then  gave  kisses  of 
union,  and  e\^ry  baron  of  virtue 
might  then  fight  for  a  lady  of  Ioat. 
Escutcheons,  blazoned  with  the 
heraldry  of  honour  and  purity,  and 
on  the  same  brass-glittering  shield 
were  seen,  and  ii\  curious  courte- 
sy, doves,  the  emblems  of  love,  and 
lions,  the  pictures  of  bravery. 
The  virgins  of  the  imperial  court 
were  noble  in  lineage,  renowned 
for  their  beauty,  and  beyond  the 
praise  of  poetry  for  their  virtue. 
The  gallant  knights  and  proud  no- 
bility were  famous  for  their  deeds 
of  conquest  in  defence  of  honour 
and  the  ladies.  In  the  time  of 
chivalry,  purity  was  the  glory  of 
the  women,  and  beauty  was  the 
sister  of  purity.  Then  was  the 
penod  of  real  love,  then  there  was 
a  true  language  to  tell  the  concep- 
tions of  congenial  souls  ;  but  gen- 
tlemen and  peers  exist  no  longer, 
and  where  are  the  damsels  of  the 
castle,  where  are  the  fair  ladies  of 
the  court  ?  In  the  room  of  chival- 
ry, there  is  interestedness,  there 
is  falsehood,  baseness,  infamy. 
When  a  man  now  talks  love  to  a 
girl,  he  is  thinking  of  her  land  and 
her  gold  ;  he  now  Seeks  to  grasp 
her  wealth,  or  gratify  his  lust.  But 
the  men  are  not  solely  to  blame. 
The  women  are  not  pure  ;  they 
are  not  lovely  ;  they  have  affecta- 
tion of  sentiment,  and  they  have 
fklseness  of  heart.  It  is  a  misera- 
ble age,  when  contracts  of  mar- 
riage are  deeds  of  bargain  and 


sale  ;  whert  FOfve  is  prostituted  t*^ 
venality  ;  when  the  awful  obliga- 
tions of  the  matrimonial  rite,  mu- 
tually given  and  i^cdvcd  in  the' 
presence  of  a  christian  minister 


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fAHALUX,   BETIV^EN  COWP£R  AND   BURNJJ. 


^r 


FOR  THE  AjYTHOLOGY. 

PARALLEL   BETWEEN^   COWPER   AND    BURKS. 

CProm  tHe  CcoMira  Llterarte  for  Movenber.  1805.] 


Ths  genius  of  Bums  was  morp 
sublime,  than  that  of  Cowper. 
Both-  excelled  in  the  familiar  :  but 
yet  the   latter  was  by  nature  as 


thing  with  a  poet's  eye,  and  cloth- 
ed it  with  a  poet's  tints. 

The  hearts  and  tempers  of 
these  bards  seem  to  have  been 
cast  in  moulds  equally  distinct  : 
while  Cowper  shrunk  from  diffi- 
culties and  was  palsied  with  dan- 
gers, we  can  conceive  Bums  at 
times  riding  with  delight  in  tlie 
whirlwind,  performing  prodigies 
of  heroism,  and  foremost  in  the 
career  of  a  glorious  death.  We 
can  almost  suppose  in  his  athletick 
form  and  daring  countenance,  had 
he  lived  in  times  of  bai'barism, 
and  been  tempted  by  hard  neces- 
sity to  forego  his  principles,  such 
an  one  ^s  we  behold  at  the  head 
of  a  banditti  in  the  savage  scenery 
of  Salvator  Rosa,  gilding  the 
crimes  of  violence  and  depreda- 
tion, by  acts  of  valour  and  gene- 
ro^ty  !  Li  Cowper,  on  the  contra- 
ry, we  view  a  man  only  fitted  for 
the  most  refined  state  of  society, 
s^d  for  the*  bowers  of  peace  and 
security. 

There  is  a  relative  claim  to  su> 
pcriority  on  the  side  of  Bums,  on 
which  I  cannot  lay  so  much  stress 
as  many  are  inclined  to  do.  I 
mean  his  want  of  education,  while 
the  other  enjoyed  all  the  discipline 
and  all  the  advantages  of  a  great 
publick  school.  If  the  addiction 
to  the  Muses,  and  the  attainment 
of  poetical  excellence  were  noth- 
ing more  than  an  accidental  appU- 
.cation  of  general  talents  to  a  par- 
ticular species  of  intellectual  oc- 
cupiition,  how  happens  it  that  a- 
jmong  the  vast  numbers  educated 
.  at  Westminster,  or  Eton,  or  Win- 
chester, or  HarrQWy  among  whom 
there  must  be  very  many  of  very 
high    natural    endowmpitsi   and 


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6S 


VARAlLBt  BBTirBBK  eoiPfSA  AlTD  BtnUTS. 


where  day  after  dayi  vnd  year 
fftfter  year,  they  are  habituated  to 
poetical  composition  by  e^ery  'ar* 
tifice  of  emulation,  and  every  ad« 
vantage  of  precept  and  example, 
80  few  should  attain  the  rank  of 
genuine  poets,  while  Bums  in  a 
claybuilt  hovel,  amid  the  labours 
of  the  plough  and  the  flail,  under 
the  anxiety  of  procuring  his  daily 
bread,  with  little  instruction  and 
few  books,  and  surrounded  only 
by  the  humblest  society,  felt  an 
irresistible  impulse  to  poetry, 
vhich  surmounted  every  obstacle, 
and  reached  a  felicity  of  expres- 
sion, a  force  of  sentiment,  and  a 
richness  of  iipagery  scarce  ever 
rivalled  by  an  union  of  ability, 
education,  practice,  and  laborious 
effort  ?  Thinking  therefore  that 
poetical  talent  is  a  bent  impressed 
by  the  hand  of  Nature,  I  canfiot 
give  the  greatest  weight  to  subse- 
quent artificial  circu^istances  ; 
but  yet  I  must  admit  that  in  the 
case  of  Bums  they  were  so  nnfa- 
vourable,  that  no  common  natural 
genius  could  have  ov<ercome  them. 
On  the  contrary,  there  were 
8ome  points  in  the  liistgry  of 
Bums  more  propitious  tp  the  bold- 
er features  of  poetry,  than  in  that 
of  Cowper.  He  wrote  in  the  sea- 
son pf  youth,  when  all  the  passions 
%vere  at  their  height ;  his  life  was 
less  uniform,  and  his  station  was 
more  likely  to  encourage  energy 
and  enthusiasm,  than  the  more 
polished  and  more  insipid  ranks, 
to  which  the  other  belonged.  In 
the  circles  pf  feshion,  fire  and  im- 
petuosity are  deemed  vulgar ;  and 
vith  the  roughnesses  of  the  hu- 
tnan  character  all  its  force  is  too 
often  smoothed  away.  An  early 
intercourse  with  the  upper  moM- 
ity  is  too  apt  to  damp  all  the  gen- 
^i-ous  emotions,  and  make  one 
ashamed  of  romantick  hopes 
jmd  sublime  concentions.    From 


blights  of  th)8  kind  the  eariy  sit- 
uation of  Bums  protected  him. 
The  htatha  and .  mountains  of 
Scotlandf  among  which  he  lived, 
braced  his  nerves  with  vigour,  and 
cherished  the  bold  and  striking 
colours  pf  his  mind. 

But  it  seems  to  me  vain  and  idle 
to  speculate  upon  education  and 
outward  circumstances,  as  the 
causes  or  promoters  of  poetical 
genius.  It  is  the  inspiring  breath 
of  Nature  alone,  which  gives  the 
powers  of  the  genuine  iMird,  and 
creates  a  ruling  prop^sityi  and  m 
peculiar  cast  of  character,  which 
will  rise  above  every  impediment, 
but  can  be  substituted  by  neither 
art  nor  labour.  To  write  melKf 
fluous  verses  in  language,  which 
may  seem  to  the  eye  apd  the  ear 
adomed  vrith  both  imagery  and 
elegance,  may  be  a  &cttlty  neither 
unattainable,  nor  even  uncommon. 
But  to  give  that  soul,  that  predom^ 
inance  of  thought,  that  ilhuninaer 
ed  tone  of  a  living  spirit,  whkh 
spring  in  so  inexplicable  a  man- 
ner from  the  chords  of  the  real 
lyre^  is  beyond  the  reach  of  mere 
human  arrangement,  without  the 
innate  and  very  rare  gift  of  the 
Muse.  That  gift  has  regard 
neither  to  rank,  station,  nor  richi 
cs.  It  shone  over  the  cradles  of 
Surry,  and  Buckhurst,  amid  the 
splendour  <5f  palaces,  and  the  lus* 
tfe  of  coronets  ;  it  shone  over 
those  of  Milton,  and  Cowley,  and 
Dryden,  and  Gray,  and  Collins, 
amid  scenes  of  fmgal  and  unos- 
tentatious competence  apd  medi- 
ocrity ;  it  fhbne  over  that  of 
Bums,  in  the  thatched  hovel,  the 
chill  abode  of  comfortless  penury 
and  humble  labour. 

If  there  be  any  who  doubt 
whether,  in  the  exercise  of  th2» 
gift.  Bums  contributed  to  his  owiv 
happiness,  let  them  hear  the  testis 
mony  of  himself.    <*  P©csy,**  saw 


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^HE  mrMAUKcm. 


6P 


Ix  to  Dr.  Moore,  «  was  still  a 
(kriin^  walk  for  my  mind  ;  but  it 
was  only  indulged  in  according  to 
the  humour  of  the  honr.  I  had 
usually  half  a  dozen,  or  more 
pieces  on  hand  ;  I  took  up  one  or 
other  as  it  suited  the  momentary 
tone  of  the  mind,  and  dismissed 
the  work  as  it  bordered  on  fatigue. 
My  passions,  when  once  lighted 
up,  raged  like  so  many  devils,  till 
they  got  vent  in  rhyme,  and  then 
the  conning  over  my  verses,  like  a^ 
^11,  soothed  all  into  quiet  !'*  In 
truth,  without  regard  to  happiness, 
or  misery,  the  impulse  of  the  true 
poet  towards  his  occupation  is 
generally  irresistible,  even  to  the 
neglect  of  all,  to  which  prudence 
and  self-interest  imperiously  dic- 
tate ids  attention.  Thus  placed 
in  the  conflict  of  opposite  attrac- 
^kns,  he  too  often  ^Is  a  victim  to 
the  compunctions  of  mental  re- 
{ret,  and  the  actual  stripes  of 
^rorkfly  adversity.  But  the  die 
It  ciat ;  even  the  misery,  which 


is  endured  in  such  a  cause,  is  dear 
to  I'im  ;  and  the  hope  that  his 
memory  will  live,  and  the  pictures 
of  his  mind  be  cherished  when  his 
bones  are  mouldering  in  the  ^ust» 
is  a  counterpoise  to  more  thaa 
ordinary  sufferings  ! 

I  do  not  mean  to  encourage  the 
idea,  that  the  imprudences,  and 
much  less  the  immoralities,  of 
Bums,  were  absolutely  insepara- 
ble from  the  brilliance  of  his  tal» 
ents,  or  the  sensibilities  of  his 
heart.  I  am  not  justifying,  I  onljr 
attempt  to  plead  for  them,  in  miti- 
gation  of  the  harsh  and  narrow 
censures  of  malignity  and  envy. 
I  call  on  those  of  dull  heads  and 
sour  tempers  to  judge  with  can- 
dour and  mercy,  to  respect  human 
frailties,  more  especially  when  re- 
deemed by  accompanying  virtues, 
and  to  enter  not  into  the  garden  of 
Fancy  with  implements  too  coarse, 
lest  in  the  attempt  to  destroy  the 
weeds,  they  pluck  up  also  all  the 
flow^. 


J^OJR    THE   JiJ^THOLOGY. 

THE    REMARKER. 

Tsaiatne  animh  edlestihvs  ir0  T  Vmcil. 

Can  heavenly  minds  such  high  resentment  show  ? 


ATo.  «. 


PtTStll, 


ONE  might  imagine,  that  the 
Boavoidable  calamities  of  Ufc  would 
sulBcienl}y  espercise  pur  philoso- 
phy, without  unnecessarily  adven- 
turing into  experiments  of  ps^- 
tience  ;  that  mankind  would  pre- 
fer the  improvement  of  their  plea- 
sures to  the  advancement  of  their 
pains  ;  that  there  \youId  be  more 
pupils  of  the  garden  of  Epicurus, 
than  disciples  of  the  tub  of  Dio- 
fcDes.  But  hourly  «;pcriencc 
confirms  the  uncertainty  of  calcu- 
lations in  morals  ;  and  though 
the  politician  may  prophecy  from 
incidents  the  motion  of  empires, 
»Ki  the  astronomer  determine  by 
pheaomena  the  visitations  of  com- 


ets,  there  are  np  diviners  in  eth« 
icks,  that  can  prognosticate  the 
inclinatiops  of  the  soul.  TepiperSf 
touched  by  the  sain^  $park,  ex* 
plode  into  ^  variety  of  directionst 
and  you  xpay  as  readily  assign  e 
pathway  to  the  hurricane  in  the 
wil^iemess,  as  regulate  the  conae* 
quencea  resulting  frpm  a  principle. 
Since  the  apottacy  of  our  par« 
ents,  and  the  entailment  of  their 
punishment,  it  has  been  the  busi« 
nesB  of  the  theologian  and  moralist 
to  alleviate  the  severities  of  oural^ 
lotment.  Precepts  have  accord- 
ingly been  poured  forth  on  the 
conduct  of  life,  till  their  sources 
txt  dry^  and  the  ^ffoir^  of  ^«  qiodt 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


n 


xuz  luucAsinjiu 


cm  essayist  unavoidably  restricted 
to  a  mere  repetition  of  the  senti- 
ments of  the  dead.  By  what  pros- 
elytes the  instructers  of  antiquity 
were  followed,  or  how  extensively 
their  humbler  representatives  are 
regarded,  it  would  deservedly  oc- 
casion the  community  a  blush  to 
relate.  That  so  much  labour  has 
been  employed,  and  so  little  achiev- 
ed, will  be  a  circumstance  of  hu- 
miliation to  the  vanity  of  under- 
talking  ;  and  the  calculating  portion 
of  mankind,  after  an  intimacy  with 
society,  will  rather  accept  a  profes- 
sorship for  the  regulation  of  the 
winds,  dian  fatigue  their  constitu- 
^ons  with  lecturing  the  insane. , 

To  those  unread  in  the  weak- 
nesses of  human  naturCf  these  sen- 
timents may  appear  the  offspring 
of  misanthropy  ;  too  prematurely 
delivered  to  be  correct,  and  too 
distorted  to  pretend,  in  any  degree 
to  a  relationship  with  truth.  That 
any  ^should  prefer  uproar  to  rule^ 
quarrel  to  quiet,  anxiety  to*  ease, 
supposes  an  eccentricity  in  choicCf 
too  unnatural  for  belief.  Admit- 
ting, as  moralists  have  degrading- 
ly  asserted,  that  selfishness  is  the 
principle  of  action  ;  few,  among 
the  provi4eBt,  wo^ld  sacrifice  their 
comfort  for  the  limited  satisfaction 
"of  disturbing  their  neighbours,  or 
the  whimsical  diversion  of  appear- 
ing disagreeable.  Were  the  feel- 
ings of  an  individual  illustrative  of 
^he  whole,  I  could  conscientiously 
pite  myself  on  the  occasion,  as  an 
authority  (n  point ;  for,  so  wedded 
am  1  to  convenicncy,  that  I  never 
draw  on  my  boots  after  dinner,  «fr 
stoop  down  to  buckle  my  shoe,  but 
T.  reflect,  that  I  am  abridging  the 
Amount  of  my  days.  Qmetude  is 
-the  essence  of  being  ;  and  he  is 
Ipoor  in  the  good  ^lings  of  this 
world,  who  has  never  rested  his 
legs  against  the  jambs  of  the  fire- 
place,  or  wiped  his  forehead  in  the 


shadei  after  the  &ti(ptte8  of  a  prom- 
enade. The  period  of  modern  ex- 
istence is  contracted  to  threescore 
and  ten,  and  they,  who  imbitter  the 
trifle,  are  equally  cruel  and  niad. 
Yet,  on  this  theme,  the  voice  of 
fact  is  as  melancholy  as  decisive* 
and  it  will  be  discovered,  that  the 
Remarker,  far  from  a^ravating 
the  disagreeable,  has  rather  qual- 
ified the  harsh.  There  are  some 
spirits  that  appear  to  agree  in 
nothing  but  to  disagree,  and  the 
moment  you  fall  within  their  influ- 
ence, you  must  be  possessed  of  the 
equanimity  of  Democritus  not  to 
be  disturbed  in  the  economy  oi 
your  temper.  They  seem,  as  it 
were,  bom  beneath  a  tempestuous 
quarter  of  the  moon,  when  the  ma-. 
ligner  aspects  of  the  firmament 
were  ascendant,  and,  like  the  dis- 
tempered period  of  their  nativityi 
to  be  propitious  to  eommotion  and 
portentous  of  ill.  The  more  you 
sacrifice  to  their  arrogance,  the 
more  their  perverseness  increaseSf 
and  not  to  struggle  with  the  stream 
is  to  be  buried  in  the  foulness  of  . 
its  bottom*  No  sense  of  propri- 
ety, no  feeling  for  delicacy,  no  ob- 
servance of  custom  ever  character- 
izes their  carnage*  The  polish  of 
etiquette,  the  gentleness  of  modes- 
ty, the  sweetness  of  affability,  with 
all  the  tender  courtesies  of  inter- 
course, are  wasted  on  them,  like  the 
refinements  of  the  Houybnhnms 
on  the  coarseness  6f  the  Yahoos. 

**  Let  Hwcolet  hfatMcIf  do  what  he  nuy, 
The  cat  wiU mew,  the  dog  wUl  harehit  dayJ>* 

They  remind  you  of  those  quad- 
rupeds, that  are  too  desperate  to  be 
domesticated,  too  wild  for  an  in- 
terchange of  reliance,  that  are 
turned  forth  to  howl  and  to  depre- 
date in  the  shadow  of  the  wilder* 
ness.  In  truth,  though  the  per- 
suasion may  seem  fancifol,  they 
further  appear  peculiarly  illustra- 
tive of  the  doctrine  of  transmigra- 


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TBE  ftSMARKSH; 


fi 


6ob,  and  many,  less  credukms  than 
lenjns,  might  be  readily  persuad- 
ed, that  some,  that  norw  travel  to 
tiKi  fro  on  two  ifg^y  seeking  whom 
they  may  annoy,  were,  in  aforetime, 
assisted  on  similar  excursions,  by 
fte  accommodatiiig  Dtimber  and 
celerity  of /bur,  I  remember  not, 
whether  Ae  system  of  transforma- 
tion of  beings  supposes  the  passage 
of  higher  natures  into  lower,  or 
lower  into  higher,  or  both  ;  but 
that  the  personages  in  question  are 
n^dtf  accomplishing  themselves 
for  that  which  is  here  conceived 
th^  primitive  condition,  none  will 
deny,  and  none  will  regret.  Vio- 
lent visitations  become  tolerable 
from  the  probability  of  their  short- 
ness, and  these  antidotes  to  enjoy- 
ment arc  only  endured,  for  the  pre- 
sent, thro'  the  soothing  expectation 
of  tlreir  returning  to  their  origin. 

Such  are  the  wayward  spirits 
that  rejoice  in  disturtNince  ;  whose 
home,  like  the  Sisterhood's  of  the 
Heath,  is  in  the  tempests  they  en- 
gemler.  But  every  principal  has 
is  siA>cyrdinate,  and,  though  we 
have  exposed  the  leaders  of  the 
Ihischief,  their  accessaries  remain 
to  be  noticed.  That  delicacy, 
#hich  excuses  petty  offences,  is 
•Dworthy  the  fidelity  of  Ae  mor- 
liist;  for  great  vices  originate 
iriHn  trivial  mttdemeanours,  and 
the  cahn  of  llbd^ty  may  be  rufiRed 
^  a  whisper,  tl^ntcted  with  the 
wracteraidM»4}6d,^ere  are  sec- 
,  who,  wanting 
tittack,  grat- 
'  sly  innuendo 
They  are 
tftCmeer,  and 
eb   satirize  witii  «  «MtpKment. 

Ma  never^iMili  bttt  they  ^mile. 
The  import  of  their  Ihi^h  is  a 
tt»»sm,  and  tt0  expirokm    of 

these  beings  tnore  disconsolate 
ittn  irintery  aadas  yoo  approxz« 


mate  the  chilness  of  theif  latitudes, 
you  perceive  your  mercury  sub- 
siding to  the  point  of  congelation. 
In  their  presence,  the  stream  of 
conversation  stiffens  as  it  flows,  and 
the  reluctant  observation  is  chilled 
in  the  delivery.  Should  circum- 
stances deny  them  an  opportunity 
to  annoy  you,  they  sit  folded  in  an 
angle,  hatching  the  solitary  egg  of 
ill-nature  ;  perfecting  mischief  in 
embryo  for  the  occasions  of  spleen. 
They  listen  to  falsehood,  ahd  lay 
in  wait  to  gather  scandal ;  they  de- 
light in  the  narrative  of  disappoint- 
ments, and  are  chagrined  at  the 
report  of  success.  Suspicious  of 
the  narrowness  of  their  capacities, 
thc^ perfection  of  another  cometh 
home  like  a  censure  ;  and  the 
more  perfect  the  character  exhib- 
ited, the  more  radical  their  hate. 
Were  they  endued  with  resolution 
to  execute  what  their  malignancy 
concerts,  their  station  would  be 
paramount  on  the  file  of  vexations ; 
but  to  torture  the  malevolent  with 
the  mortifications  of  impotence  is 
the  agency  of  providence  for  the 
security  of  the  virtuous.  They 
accordingly  contrive  sn'ares,  that 
they  want  courage  to  spread  ;  they 
construct  engines  for  disturbance, 
that  they  fear  to  discharge, 

**  And  Ibe*  like  ••  cowtrdi"  ia  their  •*  own  es- 

teenii 
Letting  I  dcre  not,  wait  npon  I  would. 
Like  tlie  poor  cat  l*t|ie  adage." 

These  constitute  the  secondary 
denomination  of  malcontents  ;  be- 
ings, less  destructive  in  their  ten- 
dency than  their  principals,  but  e- 
qually  distorted  in  disposition  and 
grain.  Ifi  -  by  the  moral  code,  the 
projection  of  an  injury  be  alike 
culpable  with  the  performance, 
they  incur  the  consequences  of  a 
crime,withoutthe  pleasure  of  com- 
mitting it.  They  sow  seed,  whose 
only  produce  is  disappointment 
and  shame.  They  fill  their  bos- 
oms with  bitterness,  and  waste 
themselvec  with  cursing  in  pii* 


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THE  REMARKEE. 


vate.  In  the  bustle,  attending  the 
tchievement  of  vicious  designs,  the 
accusations  of  conscience  may,  for 
a  season,  be  suspended  ;  but  to 
support  a  sedentary  existence  of 
low  machination  and  impotent  de- 
sire ;  to  wear  away  in^e  cool  lu- 
cubration of  iniquity  Md  spite,  is 
to  experience  the  labour  of  Sisy- 
phus, and  endure  tho  scourge  of 
the  Furies.  By  what  motives  such 
dispositions  are  actuated,  it  would 
puzzle  the  perspicacity  of  a  Hin- 
doo to  discover.  It  is  said,  that 
the  pain  of  excessive  pleasure  is 
delicious,  but  the  pleasure  of  ex- 
cessive pain  is  a  paradox. 

The  subject  matter  of  Remark' 
tr  Sixth  was  the  product  of  acci- 
dent, rather  than  research.  By 
this  conf'ission  it  is  not  tlie  inten- 
tion of  the  writer  to  apologize  for 
its  treatment,  but  to  introduce  the 
incident  that  awakened  liis  reflec- 
tions. That  which  is  casually  ac- 
quired may  be  leisurely  revolved, 
and  many  examples,  more  pat  tlian 
the  present,  might  be  exhibited  of 
the  felicities  of  chance.  There  are 
^ains  of  reflection  extending 
through  every  intelligence,  and 
when  a  spark  is  imparted  they 
hurry  to  explosion.  The  incident 
alluded  to  may  be  understood  from 
what  follows. 

Several  evenings  ago  I  received 
a  note  from  Mrs.  Equinox,  and 
my  yesterday  was  devoted  to  meet- 
ing her  wishes.  Many  months 
had  elapsed,  since  I  last  darkened 
her  doors,  and  many  years,  per- 
haps, may  revolve  ere  I  repeat  my 
respects.  As  we  had  heretofore 
parted  without  a  tear,  we  again 
even  encountered  without  a  smile. 
To  me  the  coalition  was  as  memo- 
rable as  an  eclipse,  and  the  gloom 
that  attended  it  not  dissimilar  to 
that  of  the  phenomenon.  There 
are  people,  who  arrive  and  depart 
without  exciting  a  reflection ;  there 
are  some,  whom  we  gaze  after 
iSrom  the  windowitill  they  fade  into 


nothing  ;  there  are  others  too,  UuA 
we  escort  to  the  threshold  with  a 
sensation  of  relief.  To  whiph  de-* 
scription  of  visitors  Mrs.  Equinox 
considered  me  as  pertaining,  I  have 
not  the  curiosity  to  inquire  ;  the 
opinions  of  the  disagreeable  are 
generally  less  distressing,than  their 
presence.  But,  such  is  my  regard 
for  the  lady,  if  accident  conducts 
her  to  my  door,  I  shall  feel  little 
compunction  in  securing  its  bolts. 

It  is  thought,  tliat  no  character 
is  sufficiently  corrupt  to  be  devoid 
of  a  virtue  ;  that  some  truth  majr 
reside  even  in  the  midst  of  deprav- 
ity. In  support  of  the  sentiment 
I  can  quote  the  lady  in  question, 
for,  to  do  justice  to  impudence,  she 
is  above  deception.  No  cover  is 
employed  to  secrete  her  deformi- 
ties, no  polisli  attempted  to  soften 
her  rudeness  ;  she  is  equally  neg- 
ligent of  appearances  or  arts,  and 
commits  outrages  on  society  with- 
out apology  or  shame.  If  there  is 
any  pleasure  in  exciting  alarm,she 
is  rarely  destitute,  t9o,  of  amuse- 
ment ;  for  every  one,  who  ven- 
tures within  her  influence,  is  gen- 
erally afflicted  with  an  ague.  Ter- 
ror is  considered,  I  believe,  as  apart 
of  the  subiirnc^  and,  as  it  is  proper 
to  feel  what  we  mean  to  impress, 
I  would  recommend  Mrs.£quinox 
to  the  cultivators  of  rhetorick.  If, 
after  a  lecture  or  so  from  her  la« 
dyship,  any  one  should  be  deficient 
m  representing  the  gratidy  he  may- 
be a  much  better  member  of  soci- 
ety, but  is  unquestionably  no  poet. 
I  have,  myself,  for  some  time  had 
a  tragedy  upon  the  stocks,  wluch, 
owing  to  the  incompleteness  of  its 
infernal  machinery,  I  liave  hitherto 
delayed  presenting  the  publick  ^ 
but,  since  the  vi^t  afofenamed, 
I  feel  so  adequate  to  every  thing 
tremendous,  2^at  I  now  calculate 
on  a  represcAt^on  in  the  course 
oftheseaa^  ^bejict  concluding 
vntb  a  cc^Cfr/^/unVf,  which  re* 
Uxisd  at  nrat  the  progress  of  my 


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n 


UttsCj  will  infallibly  command  the 
applause  of  the  house  ;  for  the 
principal  infernal  of  the  dramatis 
persons  is  immediately  taken  from 
mj  ferocious  entertainer.  If  the 
performers  are  not  remiss  in  con** 
eeiving  their  author,  my  number 
^mght9  is  as  certain  as  day.  One 
character,  well  defined,  has  sup-" 
t)orted  a  play,  and  I  challenge  all 
ttit  fallen  to  parallel  mine. 

The  countenance  is  considered 
by  some  as  a  pre&ce  to  the  char-* 
acter.  Htfw  far  the  doctrine  qf 
ftaturcB  Is  fallacious  or  firm,  the 
iDquisitive  or  idle  may  decide  for 
themselves  ;  neither  capacity,  nor 
leisure,  promote  my  remarks* 
However,  as  many  of  my  readers 
are  perhaps  students  of  the  txte^ 
rioury  a  rough  sketch  of  the  lady^g 
physiognomy  may  be  somewhat 
appropriate,  though  ever  so  imper* 
feet.  Attend,  then,  and  tremble  ! 
^^jiamquam  antatii  nKmlaiMc  horret,  tocenque 
udplun. 

Between  two  optick8,more  fiery 
than  intelligent,  imagine  a  thin 
partition  of  nostri],more  censorious 
than  wise  ;  to  a  mouth,  rather  ex-^ 
travagantthan  liberal, an  expression 
more  ferocious  than  brave  ;  to  an 
elevated  forehead,  more  wrinkles 
than  iniagination  ;  to  an  acumina« 
ted  chin,  more  severity  than  deci-* 
sion  ;  imagine  features  to  frighten 
children  from  their  playthings,  or 
convert  dairies  to  cut^e  ;  imagine 
that  which  you  wish  least  to  be-* 
hold,  and  her  portraiture  is  yours. 
But  the  history  of  her  deformities 
concludes  not  with  her  counter 
nance.  Nature,  in  every  passage 
of  its  performance,  is  incomparably 
uniform  ;  and  her  ladyship  is  as 
unique  in  uglfaiess,  as  the  Graces 
in  beauty.  To  extend  then  this 
^ead-Mze  to  %Jull4ength  ;  conceive 
of  a  figure,  neariy  five  fbet  eleven, 
ikinny,  faded,  aiki  Coarsei  angular 

VoUIII.  No.8,    K 


in  its  outline  as  a  diagram  in  trigo<> 
nometry,  and  as  uncomfortable  to 
contact  as  the  edges  of  a  bureau  ; 
conceive  of  soniething  between  a 
woman  and  a  man,  with  the  roughJ 
ness  of  the  one  and  the  sex  of  the 
other  ;  a  being  ^hom  the  women 
must  disown  and  the  men  disavow  ; 
and,  should  you  still  fail  of  hei' 
likeness,  call  up,  to  assist  your 
conception,  the  weird  sisters  of 
Shakespeare  ;  for,  like  them,  she 
is  indebted  to  a  petticoat  for  the 
testimony  of  her  sex.  In  fine^ 
imagine  a  woman,  every  property 
of  whose  nature  is  at  enmity  with 
love,  who,  in  ar  scarcity  of  her  kind^ 
would  be  the  most  puzzled  for  a 
panner,  and,  though  you  believe 
me  romancing,  you  will  posses^ 
Mrs.  Equinox  to  the  nicety  of  a 
fraction. 

Thus  much  for  the  disposition 
and  appearance  of  this  unconifort-* 
able  lady,  my  Interview  with  whom 
remains  to  be  decribed.  To  dis- 
cuss the  enormities  of  society  is 
the  office  of  the  essayist,  in  the 
performance  of  which,  accommo-' 
dation  is  delinquency.  To  em-» 
ploy  lenitives  as  a  recipe  foi  abuse, 
or  to  solicit  violence  by  entreaty, 
is  like  indu4ging  a  diseased  man  to 
facilitate  his  cure.  Should  the  Re-« 
marker  be  considered  therefore  as 
too  profuse  of  his  caustick,  let  the 
tender-hearted  be  instructed,  that 
more  are  injured  by  forbearanco 
than  correction.  This  affecting  « 
to  do  something,  and  executing 
nothing,  i%  relinquishing  tlie  rod 
to  the  children,  and  making  a  mock- 
cf y  of  discipline.     But  to  the  lady. 

On  approaching  the  mansion  of 
Mrs.  Equinox,  agreeably  to  her 
note  and  disagreeably  to  my  wish" 
es,  I  experienced  a  foreboding,  re- 
sembling that  of  a  truant  retui-ning 
to  hi$  tutor,  and  involuntarily  per«^ 
formed  several  evolutions    ab4^ut 


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74 


TDE   HfiMARieCll. 


the  premises,  tvithout  arriving  at 
her  door.  But,  finally  recollecting 
that  there  was  no  avoiding  the  vis- 
it, and  feeling  that  the  apprehen- 
sion of  diffkiilty  was  worse  than 
the  encounter,  I  sufficiently  rallied 
my  spirits  to  elevate  the  knocker. 
The  noise  of  its  fall  was  like  the 
knell  of  my  joys.  The  morning 
was  cold  and  blue,  and  the  winds 
sang  mournfully  in  the  key-hole. 
I  felt  as  if  attending,  in  the  char- 
acter of  chief  mourner,  the  funeral 
©f  the  whole  family  of  the  Agree* 
ables.  Luckily,  at  my  entrance, 
no  one  was  in  the  parlour,  and,  re- 
membering that  genuine  courage 
derived  accessions  from  reason,  I 
was  beginning  to  argue  myself  in- 
to magnanimity,  when  Mrs.  Equi- 
nox appeared.  What  before  has 
been  hinted  of  our  meeting  I  will 
not  enlarge  upon  ;  suffice  it  that 
we  encountered  without  a  smilC) 
for  wc  had  parted  without  a  tear. 

To  love  or  hate  at  first  sight  is 
accounted  whimsical,  yet  much  of 
a  character  may  be  gathered  from 
a  glance*  Of  the  correctness  of 
prepossession,  I  could  produce 
Mrs.  Equinox  as  an  instance,  for 
in  a  moment  you  are  persuaded 
that  sbh  is  possessed  with  a  famil- 
iar. The  composure  of  her  first 
salutation  resembles  that  tranquil- 
lity in  the  heavens,  which  is  the 
precursor  of  a  tempest,  and  yon 
may  read,  even  in  her  countenance 
•  at  fest,  the  inclemency  of  her  tem- 
perament. The  day  of  my  visit, 
imfortunately,  was  rather  dirty  im- 
der  foot,  and,  forgetting  in  my  ag- 
itation to  nmke  use  of  the  scrapev, 
I  unwittingly  traced  the  carpet 
with  mud,  from  the  entry  to  the 
fire-place.  From  ladies  less  punc- 
tilious in  their  household  than  my 
hostess,  such  a  clownish  manceu* 
vrc  might  have  produced  a  reproof, 
and  to  one  of  her  susceptibility  the 
iUfaccmetU  of  a  kiddcfTnimtcr  was 


ample  matter  for  invecfivr.  Ac^ 
cordingly,  with  features  divided 
between  simpers  and  frowns,  and 
tones  set  at  variance  by  raillery 
and  spite,  concealing  and  betray- 
ing a  desire  of  revenge,  she  imme-* 
diately  proceeded  to  open  an  attack. 
"  You  have  been  particularly  un- 
fortunate in  selecting  your  road, 
sir,  or  the  ways  are  much  fouler 
than  I  was  led  to  suppose.  Why, 
you  are  lumbered  with  mud  like 
a  wheel  from  the  mire,  and  youf 
heels  are  as  heavy  as  a  plough- 
man's in  spring.  Here,  Mary, 
Mary,  for  the  love  of  neatness, 
come  hither,  or  we  shall  be  buried 
alive.  The  gentleman,  I  believe, 
imagines  that  we  Were  created 
merely  to  rub  and  to  clean.  Here 
have  I  been  sleeving  and  driving  to 
make  thingi  as  they  should  bey 
and  the  first  recompence  of  my  in- 
dustry is  dirt  and  disgrace."  Un- 
luckily, the  tongue  of  Mrs,  Equi- 
nox being  suspended  in  the  mid- 
dle, her  vocal  abilities  were  just 
double  her  neighbours,  and,  on  oc- 
casions as  interesting  to  hussies  as 
the  present,  her  utterance  remind- 
ed you  of  the  running  down  of  a 
jack.  Sensible  that  apologies 
would  only  aggravate  her  elo- 
quence, I  was  silently  about  retir- 
ing to  disencumber  ray  boots,  when 
my  ears  were  accosted  by  tihe  full 
pathos  of  her  pipe.  «  For  geod- 
ness-sake,  stand  still,  sir,  or  return 
in  your  track  ;  your  shifting  about 
only  widens  the  grievance.  Be- 
cause the  room  is  a  dirt-heap,  must 
you  make  it  a  kennel  ?  I  protest, 
such  proceedings  would  put  a  saint 
out  of  patience.  I  will  say,  siAcs 
the  commencement  of  my  house- 
keeping, I  never  witnessed  the 
like,  and,  if  this  be  the  conse- 
quence of  receiving  a  visit,  I  de- 
sire, for  the  future,  to  meet  com- 
pany abroad."  Thankful  that  anf 
track  was  yet  £iyourabI&  for  rt^ 


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TBK  REMARKSIU 


fs 


treat,  I  gladly  proceeded  in  quest 
of  tbf  door,  and,  while  busied  iu 
removing  the  cause  of  affront,  very 
nearly  concluded  on  effecting  my 
•scape.  But  it  was  written  in  my 
horoscope  that  the  day  should  be 
foul,  and  I  disconsolately  returned 
to  the  scene  of  my  sufferings. 

The  season,  preceding  the  arri- 
val of  dinner,  was  principally  de- 
voted to  peevishness  and  slander. 
The  attendants  either  did  what 
they  should  not,  or  did  not  what 
they  should.  One  thing  was  bad- 
ly executed,  and  another  omitted. 
This  servant  was  stupid,  and  that 
servant  perverse.  Every  incident 
was  piwiuctive  of  errour,  and  ev- 
ery errour  of  regret.  Characters 
were  pecked  to  pieces,  like  the 
jack-daw  in  iEsop,  and  reputations 
dispersed  as  lightly  as  feathers. 
It  was  hinted,  that  such  a  lady  was 
addicted  to  cordials,  and  that  hoops 
-were  in  fashion  with  some  folks 
for  ^ore  reasons  than  one  ;  that 
the  complexion  of  the  Miss  May^ 
thorns  were  purchased  at  the 
colourman's,  and  that  the  teeth  of 
the  Ivories  never  grew  in  their 
heads.  But  her  strictures  concluded 
not  here.  The  whole  line  of  my 
ancestry  next  passed  in  review. 
My  great  gra^dsires  and  grandams 
found  littlp  grace  in  her  sight,  and 
jny  uncles  and  aunts  were  disj^ra- 
gcd  by  p4rs.  I  was  cautioned, 
from  the  &te  of  my  parents,  to 
learn  wisdom  in  time,  and  instruc- 
ted that  the  downfal  of  our  house 
bad  proceeded  from  inattention  and 
pride.  Her  method  of  determin- 
iqg  the  merits  of  characters  was 
peremptory  and  expeditious  ;  for 
she  listened  to  no  counsel  for  the 
accused,  and  her  decisions  were  re- 
li^Qved  al^ve  the  reapl)  of  amend* 


ment.  Dinner,  generally  conduc- 
ing to  cheerfulness  and  content,  I 
conceived  that  her  ladyship  might 
presently  relapse,  and  that  a  little 
good-humour  would  yet  lighten  the 
scene.  But  the  sequel  of  my  visit 
brought  nothing  but  gloom.  The 
repast,  instead  of  operating  in  the 
way  of  an  emollient,  only  aggra- 
vated her  disorder  to  a  fiercer  ex- 
cess. Every  thing  again,  as  be- 
fore, supplied  a  cause  for  com- 
pUdnt,  and  I  found,  that  it  was  c- 
qually  as  impracticable  to  stop  her 
mouih  with  a  feast,  as  to  affect  her 
obstinacy  with  an  argument. 

Thoroughly  exhausted  by  this 
time  with  the  entertainment  I  had 
witnessed,  I  anxiously  awsdted  an 
opportunity  to  retire,  and  immedi- 
ately upon  the  removal  of  the  cloth 
and  the  circulation  of  th^  glass 
pretended  an  appointment  and  es- 
caped the  concern.  As  the  dwel- 
ling of  my  entertainer  retreated  be- 
hind me,  the  countenances  of  ob- 
jects rcgathered  their  smiles,  and, 
comparing  the  scene  I  had  left 
with  the  evening  around  me,  I  fer- 
vently reflected,  that  harmony  was 
the  worship  of  angels  and  discord 
the  diversion  of  devils. 

Such  are  the  tempers  that  un- 
naturally contribute  to  the  disaster 
of  society ;  who  tend  at  the  sources 
of  pleasure  to  make  turbid  their 
streams  ;  and,  not  satis^ed  witli 
sipping  the  cup  of  bitterness  alone, 
infuse  the  draught  of  their  neigh- 
bours with  disappointment  and 
dregs.  But  far  from  these  and 
their  influence  be  the  fortunes  of 
my  friends  ;  may  their  cups  ever 
flow  with  the  juice  of  Anacreon, 
and  their  brows  ever  beam  with  * 
wreath  of  his  clusters. 


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H 


V18rORTUK£6  or  AN  1L1-DIEECTE» 


To  the  Editors  qf  the  Anthology, 


OENTLEMENi 


f  preaent  ttropg^  fou  to  the  pqhllclc  an  duy,  trafuteted  firom  the  Decade  PhQoiophlqiie.  Th» 
•ufajcct  b  interesting  ;  the  original  is  elegant  in  compotition,  and  the  version  i«  worthy  off  tho 
original.  These  confideratioM  should  induce  every  one  to  devote  an  half  hour  to  reading  \K 
flowly,  and  examining  seriously  the  truth  of  its  reflections.  But  if  soch  reasons  wiH  not  exdte  at* 
fention,  particularly  from  your  fair  friend* ;  I  may  excite  their  curious  dfligence  by  hinting,  naiv*« 
fDcnt,  that  their  sex  is  mere  interested  in  the  pleasure  they  wiU  receive*  than  perhaps  thef 
night  otherwise  imagine.  As  an  honourable  cavalier,  however,  secrecy  It  a  knlght*s  duty  bi 
matters  of  tpist.  Were  I  even  authorized  to  tell  all  that  I  know,  I  would  not,  from  m%^ 
tjves  of  policy,  make  use  0/  the  extent  of  my  powers  ^  and  should  I  be  continu|dly  impor<! 
toned  to  make  a  full  declaration,  1  shall  speak  darl^y,  as  in  4  parable  of  the  East,  that  whea 
the  nymphs  of  Hhidostan  were  requested  to  adorn  with  the  moit  beautifca  sfcnibt  the  public^ 
gardens  in  Delhi,  one  of  the  lovely  yirgins  of  the  city,  having  done  her  part  of  the  doty  in  thf 
foft,  early  twilight,  charged  the  bbxls  of  the  morning  not  to  carol  the  name^f  b^,  who  had 
planted  the  wUd  rose  from  the  woods  of  Arabia  in  the  flower  walk  of  fUfi<,  the  mMt  beant|r 
fttl  quarter  In  the  metropolis  of  India. 

ICISrORTUNES  OF  AN  fLL-DIRECTED   PA8S|0N  FOR  LITERATX^RB. 


AS  I  was  Strolling  last  summer 
in  the  valley  cm  the  north  pf  Montt 
martrci  I  sjaw,  under  a  cluster  of 
plms,  planted  on  the  declivity  of 
p.  hill,  at  the  side  of  a  fountain,  a 
young  man,  whose  melancholy  and 
eerious  aspect  announced  an  aiRic- 
^ed  or  jealous  lover,  He  had  a 
book,  which  he  opened)  shut,  openr 
cd  and  shut  again,  alternately. 
Passing  near  enough  to  perceive 
that  he  was  heading  poetry,  and, 
fiecyph^ring  at  the  head  'of  the 
page,  Mirciaaiuy  I  doubted  not  but 
this  was  the  poem  of  the  unfortu* 
|iate  M alfilatre,  and  imagined,  that 
the  reader  might  well  be  a  poet, 
Vho  tool^  a  lesson  from  the  work  of 
a  man  with  whom  he  appeared  to 
eympathise  in  misery. 

I  left  hjm  and  continued  my 
ramble.  An  hour  after,  I  passed 
by  the  same  spot  :  the  young  man 
was  no  longer  there  ;  but  I  per- 
ceived a  paper  in  the  plape  where 
I  had  met  him.  Let  us  sec,  said. 
1  to  myself ;  it  is  perhaps  a  love- 
Jetter  from  his  mistress,  or  some 
eHusion  of  his  muse,  It  was  neir 
ther,  but  a  letter  from  a  friend. 

I  read  it ;  it  appeared  to  me  less 
fr?  FPrJ^  oi  a  man  of  wit,  which 


now  might  be  neither  extraordina^ 
ry  nor  original,  than  of  a  man  of 
sense,  which  is  more  rare  and  more 
useful.  It  contained  wise  couivi 
sels,  applicable  to  many  young 
men,  who  believe  themselves  capa« 
ble  of  every  thing,  because  they 
hav^  their  heads  crammed  with 
phrases  ;  and  I  believe  I  shall  do 
the^i  a  service  in  publishing  this 
letter,  from  which  they  may  derive 
considerable  advantage. 

<  I  answer,  my  young  misan- 
thrope, to  the  epistolary  deplama^i 
tion,  which  you  have  addressed  to 
me  against  those  who  have  not 
done  justice  to  your  love  and  your 
talents  for  the  belles  lettres.  Yotj 
call  those  people  barbarians  :  they 
have  said  nothing  but  what  is  rea- 
sonable. I  think  I  see  your  brow 
contract  at  these  woi^s  \  but  calm 
yourself  and  listen. 

*  If  you  were  guided  by  the  im-» 
perious  genius,  which  estranged 
Malfilatre  and  Gilbert  from  a  use- 
ful an^  modes^  profession,  and 
caused  the  first  to  d}e  of  hunger^ 
and  the  second  in  a  hospital,  \ 
should  pity  you  for  having  beeq 
bom  under  a  star  so  inauspicious, 
and  )  shpuld  not  attempt  to  oppose 


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rr 


fB  irresistible  inclination,  by  coun* 
sels,  of  which  I  should  feel  the 
impotence  ;  but  I  think  there  is 
yet  time  to  make  you  listen  to 
reason. 

*■  If  any  one  kpows  you  well, 
it  is  myself,  who  have  been  with 
yott  from  early  life.  You  have 
been  occupied  with  useful  studies, 
nature  has  endowed  you  with  tal* 
entSf  you  writ45  poetry  agreeably, 
your  prose  is  easy,  you  have  taste 
and  learning,  and  your  imagina* 
Ckm  is  brilliant  ;  you  are,  at  five 
and  twenty,  an  interesting  young 
man,  and  of  distinguished  merit. 
But  permit  me  to  say,  that  I  see 
not  in  you  the  real  essence  of  ge* 
Pius  ;  it  it  genius,  however,  that 
you  flatter  yourself  you  possess, 
and  you  mistake  for  it  ebullition 
and  transports  of  fancy. 

*  Bold  ideas,  which  shed  a  brlK 
fiant  light  on  a  whole  generation  ; 
great  conceptions,  which  command 
the  admiration  of  contemporaries 
and  of  posterity  ;  creations,  in 
9horlf  of  the  beautifal  and  true, 
are  not  within  your  dominion  ; 
you  cultivate  with  success  known 
plants,  but  you  have  never  discov-r 
ered  new  ones.     You  write,  I  al- 


cieties  ;  but  never  will  they  give 
you  a  reputation,  which  is  wafted 
beyond  your  cx>untry  or  the  age 
in  which  you  live.  It  is  only  for 
a  reputation  of  this  kind  that  one 
ought  to  devote  himself  exclusively 
to  letters.  Glory  then  takes  the 
place  of  fortune.  But  to  lose  for* 
tune,  without  acquiring  glory,  is 
too  complete  a  deprivation.  You 
nm  this  risk,  my  dear  friend,  by 
your  literary  infatuation,  which 
fnakes  you  regard  simple  and  use* 
fill  occupations  with  disdain  antl 
aversion. 

<  You  are  enraged  against  men 
in  office,who  have  little  confidence 
in  the  capacity  of  those  who  make 
a  trade  of  authorship.  You  will 
not  suffer  the  talents  of  a  man  pf 
letters  to  be  regarded  as  excluding 
those  of  a  man  of  business.  In 
your  fury  against  such  a  heresy, 
you  had  nearly  gone  back  to  the 
dduga  to  seek  facts  which  might 
refute  it.  You  cite  Moses,  who 
made  laws  and  canticles  ;  David, 
who  knew  hpw  to  reign  and 
compose  odes  ;  Solomon,  who 
was  the  wisest  of  kings  and  the 
most  wanton  of  poets  ;  Xen- 
ophon,  Demosthenes,  Cicero,  Sen* 
eca,  Machiavel,  Bocace,  Bacon, 
and  in  France  de  Thou,  who  drew 
up  decrees  and  composed  history  ; 
Richlieu,  who  overthrew  tyranny, 
cannonaded  Rochelle,  and  wix>te 
tragedies  in  secret ;  Bemis,  who 
was  a  niinister  and  a  love-sick 
poet ;  Turgot,  who  abandoned  the 
dryness  of  calculation  for  pretty 
verses  ;  Necker,  who  formed  an 
alliance  between  eloquence  and 
arithmetick  ;  Calonne,  who  wrote 
like  a  literary  man,  and  governed 
like  a  statesman  ;  Mirabeau,  whq 
united  in  the  highest  degree  the 
magick  of  oratory  to  the  depth  of 
political  investigation. 

<  Do  not  these  men,  you  exclaim^ 
after  this  paultitude  of  q^Qtat;o;i9| 


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•N   A  PASSION   FOK  LITEKATUKS. 


do  not  the»c  men  directly  confute 
those  savages,  who  maintain  the 
incompatibility  between  the  culti- 
vation of  Icttei's  and  the  honourary 
professions  in  society  ?  Do  you 
believe,  that  a  man,  who  can  com- 
pose a  book,  pannot  also  write  an 
official  dispatch  ? 

<  Yes,  my  friend  ;  Thomas,  who 
was  a  writer  of  a  certain  rank,  was 
unable,  when  he  was  secretary  to 
M.  de  Praslin,  to  write  a  tolerable 
letter  of  business.  There  is  some 
difference  between  an  academy  and 
a  statesman's  office.  Academick 
speakers  know  not  how  to  reason 
with  simplicity  ;  they  make  fine 
phrases,  as  a  dancing  master  dis- 
plays beautiful  steps.  Literature 
with  men  of  busmess  is  an  excel- 
lent accessory  to  the  education, 
which  is  necessary  for  them ;  but  it 
ought  not  to  be  the  principal  part 
of  it.  We  ought  to  be  able  to 
express  ourselves  with  elegance 
and  purity  ;  but  wj  ought  not  to 
W?ply  this  talent  to  things  of  a  friv- 
olous or  uninteresting  nature.  If, 
for  example,  you  direct  your  abil- 
ities towards  objects  of  positive 
and  substantial  uuiity  ;  if,  instead 
of  inventing  romantick  scenes,  and 
of  abandoning  yourself  to  meta- 
physical delusions,  you  seize  hold 
pf  an  abstruse  questioui  and  un- 
folding its  difficulties  you  shew  it 
in  a  clear  point  of  view,  which  fa- 
cilitates the  decision  of  it,  you  will 
inoke  a  profitable  use  of  your 
knowledge  and  your  pen.  Noisy 
acclamation  will  not  strike  your 
^r,  but  you  will  gain  the  approba- 
tion and  esteem  of  men  of  sound 
vnderstanduig. 

*  These  are  the  men,  whose  suf- 
frage and  support  a  young  man 
pught  to  seek,  I  am  not  surprised 
^t  your  distress,  and  the  despair 
»rhich  results  from  it.  To  what 
^nd  are  your  verses,  your  roman- 
iJ§§»  your  comedies,  or  your  mprai 
§nd  |)hilosophi9al  essays  i   These 


are  blossoms,  which  yield  no  fi^t. 
It  is  wheat,  that  is  most  necessary 
for  you.  Cultivate  it  then  in  your 
ground. 

<  Employ  your  talents  only  for 
solid  acquisitions  ;  a  field  of  com 
is  more  valuable  than  a  parterre. 
Determine  upon  a  profession  ;  it 
is  by  a  profession  that  one  takes 
his  station  in  society.  I  would  not 
wish  you  to  make  an  absolute  di- 
vorce from  your  Muse,  but  I  ad^ 
vise  you  to  treat  her  as  a  friend, 
whom  one  visits  when  he  has 
nothing  of  more  importance  to  do. 

<  A  woman,  who  is  amiable  and 
artless,  afiectionate  to  her  husband 
and  children,  is  preferable  to  the 
nine  nymphs  of  Parnassus.  En- 
deavour to  merit  such  a  treasure  ; 
but,  I  repeat  it,  you  will  not  obt^ 
her  imless  you  fix  upon  a  profes- 
sion. An  unsettled  man  is  a  su- 
pernumerary in  the  world.  A  man 
of  letters,  who,  with  subordinate 
talents,  seeks  for  glory,  is  a  false 
Jason,who  attempts  with  a  wretch* 
ed  skiff  the  conquest  of  the  gol- 
den fieece.  He  is  a  sleep-wajker, 
who  wanders  in  the  region  of 
dreams;  rouse  yourself,  my  friendi 
depart  from  this  airy  region,  and 
enter  into  that  of  realities,  where 
the  man,  who  rears  and  supports  a 
family,  is  considered  of  impor- 
tance by  his  fellow  creatures.' 

I  embnice  ycu,  L.  F. 
The  lessons  contained  in  this 
letter  are  not  new,  but  it  may  not 
be  amits  to  repeat  them.  If  they 
were  observed^  there  would  be  few- 
er follies,  and  literature  would 
number  as  her  sons  only  those 
vho  arc  bom  to  honour  her.  It 
WQuld  ngt  be  disgraced  by  tliosc 
libellers  of  party,  who,  not  being 
able  to  obtain  a  reputation  by  their 
own  merit,  endeavour  to  obtain  it 
by  attacking  that  of  others.  These 
weak  and  brittle  minds  imagine 
they  lessen  the  admiration  of  cou- 
temporaries  for  this  enlightened 


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ige.  Re^on  will  always  make 
their  efforts  prove  abortive.  Such 
attempts  are  hoar-frost,  which 
fells  on  the  roof  of  the  pantheon 
and  is  dissipated  by  a  single  ray  of 
the  sun. 

It  is  only  idleness,  and  the  want 
•f  a  useful  and  laborious  profes- 


sion which  places  the  pen  in  the 
hands  of  so  many  individuals,  who 
are  so  little  qualified  to  guide  it^ 
Hence  they  learn  to  be  scribblers 
and  fabricators  of  libels,  as  people 
without  a  trade  and  without  a  home 
become  owners  of  false  money  and 
highway  robbers.  V.L* 


FOR    THE    ANTHOLOGY. 
SANS  SOUCI- 


SteaHog  and  giving  iwe^s. 
AugU9tll8* 

Augustus,  who  loved  Virgil 
and  Horace,  used  to  place  himself 
between  the  two  poets  at  table. 
Virgil  was  asthmatick,  and  Horace 
had  weak  eyes.  The  emperour 
used  to  say,  jestingly,  ^  Ego  sum 
inter  suspiria  et  lacrymas  ;"  I  am 
between  sighs  and  tears. 

A  blind  man^a  idea  of  Ught, 
M.  Rohault  wished  to  Commu* 
Bicate  the  idea  of  light  to  a  blind 
pupil ;  after  a  long  and  elaborate 
discourse,  when  he  hoped  he  had 
in  some  measure  succeeded,  he 
was  asked  this  question  by  the 
Uind  man,  ^  Is  not  Ught  made  of 
the  same  materials  as  sugar  ?'' 

Hoftf  to  be  bafifiy. 
How  much  it  would  conduce  to 
our  happiness  to  be  select  in  our 
Iriends  and  books ;  to  choose  them 
both  for  their  good  sense  and. 
knowledge  ;  to  be  contented  with 
a  small  but  certain  income ;  to 
have  no  master  and  few  servants  ; 
to  be  without  ambition,  envy,  ava- 
»ice,  or  a  law-suit  j  to  preserve 
<mr  health  by  exercise,  instead  of 
medicine  ;  to  love  and  hate  only 
on  just  grounds  i  and  to  enjoy  life 
without  effort. 

Professed  musicians  are  gener- 
^7  ignonoity  unprudeot,  aad  fool- 


SHAKESP. 

ish  people  away  from  their  instru- 
ments ;  a  musician,  after  a  con^ 
cert,  should  be  treated  like  his  in- 
strument, put  into  a  case  and  cai'« 
ried  home. 

Pedanta. 

«  I  hate,"  says  Montaigne, 
<<  those  scholars  who  can  do  noth« 
ing  without  their  books."  In  fact^ 
those  men  have  no  knowledge,  but 
can  tell  you  where  some  may  be 
found.  They  serve  as  itidexea  to 
good  authors.  They  will  tell  you, 
that  in  such  a  chapter  of  Cicero  or 
Quintilian  there  isa  good  thought* 
Science  is  a  sceptre  in  the  hands 
of  some  men,  and  a  bauble  in  those 
of  others. 

Philosophers  and  poets  sport 
with  the  follies  of  mankind,  trades* 
men  make  an  advantage  of  them, 
and  players  both  sport  with  them 
and  profit  by  them. 

Folli^. 
Of  all  the  definitions  of  folly, 
that  given  by  M.  Bailli  has  not  the 
least  merit.  "  Folly  is  the  tyran- 
ny that  visible  objects  exercise 
upon  our  imaginations.^ 

Ufe. 
The  progress  of  it  may  be  com- 
pared to  a  play  <  Act  1.  State  of 
mnocence.  Act  2.  The  passions. 
Act  3.  Love  of  study.  Act  4.  Am- 
bition.   Act  5 .  Peyotion  and  quiets 


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Friendshifi  of  nvomen. 
Women  are  more  constant  in 
friendship  than  men,  for  these  rea-* 
sons :  the  temperament  of  women 
Is  more  cold,  and  therefore  less 
likely  to  change  or  fly  off  from  an 
object,  to  which  they  are  once  at- 
tached. The  same  coolness  of 
constitution  renders  them  more 
subject  to  timidity ;  and  so  they  ad- 
here to  objects  of  affection,  be- 
cause they  are  fearful  of  losing 
what  they  value. 

^ScaUger. 

Scaliger  used  to  say,  that  he 
could  not  comprehend  the  causes 
of  three  things  ;  the  interval  of 
an  ague,  the  motion  of  the  sea, 
and  the  nature  of  his  own  me- 
mory. 

Medici, 

The  family  of  the  Medici,  most 
probably,  took  their  rise  from 
some  ancestor,  who  was  an  emi* 
Dent  fihysictan^  as  they  still  bear  in 
their  arms  the  device  of  five  pills. 

Etymology  of  Decrefititude, 
The  comparison  of  human  life 
to  the  burning  and  going  out  t)f  a 
lamp  was  familiar  with  Latin  au- 
thors, as  we  know  by  the  terms 
«<  stnes  decrefiiti,^*  A  lafnp,  just 
about  to  expire,  was  said  dccrefare^ 
to  cease  to  crackle.  Hence  met- 
aphorically, persons  on  tlie  verge 
of  the  grave  were  called  decrepit 
men. 

SoUtude. 
It  is  an  observation  of  Seneca, 
that  we  should  mix  company  and 
retirement,  in  order  to  make  them 
both  pleasant  by  change.  The 
'''^ish  always  to  be  alone  shows  the 
temper  of  a  wild,  ferocious  ani- 
Jnal,  carries  with  it  the  dismal 
darkness  of  the  tomb.  The  effect 
^  such  a  disposition  of  mind  is 


well  described  by  ati  ancient  phi^idA 
<*  Gor  suum  edens,"  eatkig  his  own 
heart.  Absolute  singleness  is  the 
character  of  the  Deity  only  ;  but 
man  is  too  feeble  and   depsndent 

to  subsist  by  himself. 

* 

Swift  was  invited  by  a  rich 
miser  with  a  large  party  to  dine  ; 
being  requested  by  the  host  to  re- 
turn thanks  at  the  removal  of  the 
cloth,  uttered  the  following  grace  s 

Thanks  for  tbis  mtecTe  !-^his  &  no  tetf. 
Than  to  cat  manna  fai  the  wOderncsa. 
Where  raging  hunger  rdgnM  wc*ve  found  cdtef. 
And  seen  that  wondrotts  thing  a  piece  of  beef. 
Here  chimneys  smoke»  that  never  srookM  before* 
And  we*ve  all  atci  where  we  shall  cat  nvaore. 


Aristippus  was  very  fond  of 
magnificent  entertainments,  and 
loved  a  court  life.  Dionysius 
asked  him,  in  a  sarcastick  manner, 
the  reason,  why  philosophers  were 
seen  often  at  the  gates  of  princes^ 
but  princes  never  at  the  doors  of 
philosophers  ?  «  For  the  same 
reason,"  replied  the  philosopher^ 
"  that  physicians  are  found  at  the 
doors  of  sick  men,  but  sick  men 
never  at  the  doors  of  physicians.** 

Sonnet  on  a   Sonnet^  by  Lopez  de 
Vega. 

CapricSoiu-4  sonnet  needs  must  ha^ ; 
I  ne'er  was  put  to*t  before-^  sonnet  r 
Why  fourteen  versa*  must  be  spent  upon  If^' 

Tb  good  howcrer  t*have  coaqucr'd  the  flaC 
•uve. 

Tet  shall  I  ne^  find  rhymes  enotgh  by  hatf; 

Said  I»  and  found  myself  r  th*  midst  o*  tJift 
second^ 

If  twke  four  venes  were  but  fairly  reckon^ 
I  should  turn  back  on  th*  hardest  part,attd  laagh« 

Thfts  Us  with  good  soccessi  tMnk  fve  scribbled* 
Add  of  the  twice  seven  lines  clean  got  o*er  ten  % 
Counge  !  another*ll  finish  the  fmt  triplet  % 
Thanks  to  the  Muse,  my  work  begins  to  shorten* 
See  thirteen  lines  got  throogbt  Aiibhlet  by 
dribblet; 
•Til  done,  count  haw  you  wlUr I  wan^t  tkCTC% 
ffvrtfca. 


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POETRY. 


SXTBACT   FROM  SOUTBXy's 

MADOC. 

-.THSRE  WIS  not,  on  that  day,  a  speck  to  ttain 
The  tsdre  heaven ;  the  blated  Son,  aIooe» 
In  Boapproachable  divioitr. 
Careened,  rtjoklng  in  his  fields  of  Ught. 
Bow  heaatiftal,  beneath  the  bi^ht  blue  iky. 
The  hOioaM  heave  !  one  glowing  gieen  expanse* 
live  where  along  the  bending  hne  of  shore 
tech  hoe  it  thrown,  as  when  the  peacockH  neck 
AwQBkes  Ua  prondest  thit  of  amethyst, 
Emhathed  hi  emerald  glory.    All  the  flocks 
Of  Ocean  are  abroad :  Uke  floathig  foam, 
The  sea-guUs  rise  and  hXX  upon  the  Waves; 
With  long  pfotnidcd  neck  the  cormorants 
Wlag  their  far  flight  aloft,  and  round  and  round 
ThefloTcra  wheal,  and  gire  their  note  of  joy. 
b  was  a  day  that  sent  into  the  heart 
L  aunacr  feeling  :  even  the  hisect  swarms 
From  their  Cark  nooks  and  coverts  itsued  forth. 
For  one  day  of  existence  more,  and  joy  \ 
The  soitary  primrose,  on  the  bank, 
SccBMd  now  as  though  It  had  no  cauM  to  mourn 
Itt  bieak  autumnal  birth  ;  the  Rocks,  and  Shores 
And  everiagthig  Mountafais,  had  put  on 

The  aBUe  of  that  glad  sunshfaie, ..  they  partook 
The  BBivcmd  hlcasJag. 


TEUX  STO&Y  OF  AN  AFFARtTIOH. 

By    Gay. 

iCIPnCKS  (whose  ttxeogth  of  argoac&t 
makes  out. 
That  wisdom's  deep  faiqiflrlei  end  hi  doubt) 
Hold  this  assertion  positive  and  dear. 
That  sprites  are  pure  dehisfons,  raii*d  by  ftar. 
■ot  tbst  fsmM  ghost,  ¥rhich  hi  prsssgfaig  sound 
CaOM  Brutus  to  PhiUppi*s  fatal  ground, 
liar  can  Tl>erfajj  Gracchus*  goary  shade 
These  evusidabfing  disputants  persuade* 
iBaight  they  with  smBes  reply.  Those  tales  of  oUI 
By  viekmary  priesu  were  made  and  told. 
Ch,  might  some  ghost  at  dead  of  night  appear, 
lad  nuke  yon  own  convicUon  by  your  fear  I 
I  know  your  sneers  my  easy  faith  accuse, 
WWch  with  such  idle  legends  scares  the  Muse  | 
kit  think  not  that  I  tell  those  vulgar  sprites, 
whfch  frighted  boys  relate  on  whiter  nights, 
■sw  cleanly  milk-maids  meet  the  fairy  trafai, 
fcw  heedless  hofscs  drag  the  cUnkIng  chain, 
J^-roamhig  ghosts,  by  saucer  eye^ulls  known, 
«c  common  spectres  of  each  country-town. 
**•  I  aich  fables  can  Uke  you  despise, 
Jtd  langh  to  hear  these  nune-taveotcd  lies. 
^  has  not  off  the  fraudful  guardian's  fright 
CeapaUM  hfan  to  rcstaes  an  orphan's  rightf 

Vol.  UI.  No.  2.     JL 


Andean  we  doubt  that  horrid  ghosts  ascend. 
Which  on  the  conscious  murderer's  steps  attend  | 
Hear  then,  and  let  attested  truth  prevail  } 
From  faithful  lips  I  learnt  the  dreadful  tale. 

Where  Arden*!  forest  spreads  its  Ifanits  wide. 
Whose  brancMng  paths  the  doobtfhJ  road  divklfl» 
A  traveller  took  his  solitary  way, 
When  low  beneath  the  hills  was  sunk  the  day. 
And  now  the  skies  with  gathering  darkness  looTg 
The  branches  rustle  with  the  threatened  shower  | 
With  sudden  blasts  the  forest  murmurs  loud. 
Indented  lightnings  cleave  the  sable  cloud. 
Thunder  on  thunder  breaks,  the  tempest  roars* 
And  heaven  discharges  aU  its  watery  stores. 
The  wandering  traveller  shelter  sacks  in  vain. 
And  shrinks  and  shivers  with  the  beating  rata  t 
On  his  steed's  neck  the  slackened  brklle  lay. 
Who  chose  with  cauttous  step  th'  unceruhi  way  % 
And  now  he  checks  the  rein,  and  lialts  to  hear 
If  any  noise  foretold  a  vfllagc  near. 
At  length  from  far  a  stream  of  light  he  sees 
Fxtend  its  level  ray  beneath  the  trees ; 
Thither  he  speeds,  afld,*as  he  nearer  came. 
Joyful  he  knew  the  lamp's  domestick  flame 
That  trembled  thro'  the  whidow  j  cross  the  way 
Darts  forth  the  barkhig  cur,  and  stands  at  bay. 

It  was  an  ancient  lonely  house,  that  stooa 
Upon  the  borders  of  the  spactous  wood  ; 
Here  towers  and  antique  battlemenu  ariae. 
And  there  hi  heaps  the  mouldered  ruUi  lies. 
Some  lord  this  maaston  held  hi  days  of  yore. 
To  chace  the  wolf,  and  pierce  the  foamtog  boar  | 
How  changed,  alas,  from  what  It  once  had  been  I 
Tb  now  degraded  to  a  publkk  tan. 

Straight  he  dismounts,  repeau  hb  loud  corn- 
mandsi 
Swift  at  the  gate  the  ready  landlord  stands ; 
With  frequent  cringe  he  bows,  and  begs  excuse^' 
His  house  was  lull,  and  every  bcdta  use. 
What,  not  a  garret,  and  n^  straw  to  spare  I 
Why  then  the  kitchen-fire  and  elbow -chah- 
Shall  serve  for  once  to  nod  away  the  night. 
The  kitchen  ever  is  the  servants'  righi. 
Replies  tlic  host  i  there,  all  the  fire  around. 
The  Count's  tir'd  footmen  snore  upon  the  ground* 

The  maid,  who  listen'd  to  this  whole  debate. 
With  pity  learnt  the  weary  stranger's  fate. 
Be  brave,  she  cried,  you  stiU  msy  be  our  guest^ 
Our  liaunted  room  was  ever  held  the  best  s 
If  then  your  valour  can  the  fright  sustata 
Of  rattltag  ciirtatas,  and  the  dtaktag  cbata  | 
If  your  courageous  tongue  have  power  to  talk. 
When  round  your  bed  the  horrid  i^ost  shall  walks 
If  you  dare  ask  it,  why  it  leaves  Its  tomb  j 
I'll  see  your  sheets  weU  alr'd,  and  shew  U»e  room. 
Soon  as  the  frighted  maid  her  talc  had  told, 
The  stranger  enter'd,  for  his  heart  was  bold. 

The  ilamsel  led  hhn  throogh  a  spacious  hal^ 
Where  ivy  hung  the  halfiici&alkhcd  waU : 


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83 


FOETRT. 


the  fircqufnt  I«ok'd  behind,  and  chan£*d  herbov 
While  fancy  tipt  the  candle's  flame  with  blue. 
And  now  tliey  gain'd  the  winding  sUirs*  axccnt. 
And  to  ihe  lonesome  room  of  terrours  went. 
When  all  wa«  ready,  swift  rttir'd  the  maid. 
The  watch -ligbU  burn,  tuck'd  warm  in  bed  wm 

laid 
Tlic  hardy  stranger,  and  attends  the  sprite 
Tdl  lus  accostom'd  walk  at  dead  of  night. 

At  first  he  hears  the  wind  with  hollow  roar 
Shake  the  loose  lock,  and  fwing  the  creakhig 

door  i 
yearer  and  nearer  draw*  the  dreadful  sound 
Of  rattling  chains  that  dragg'd  upon  the  grouad: 
\\'heii  lo,  the  spedre  came  with  horrid  stride, 
Approadi'd  the  bed,  and  drew  the  curtains  wide  1 
(ii  human  form  the  giuatful  phantom  stood, 
Expos'd  his  mangled  bosom  dy*d  with  blood. 
Then,  sUcnt  poioliag  to  his  wounded  breast. 
Thrice  wav'd  liis  hand.     Beneath  the  frkbted 

guest  ' 

The  bed-cord$  trembled,  and  wfch  shuddering 

fear, 
Sweat  chUlM  hU  limbs,  high  rote  hU  bristled  hair ; 
Then  muttering  hasty  prayers,  he  manoM  His 

heart. 
And  cried  aloud :  .<ay,  whence  and  who  thou  art  i 
The  stalking  ghost  with  boUow  voice  replies. 
Three  years  are  counted  since  with  mortal  eyes 
i  saw  the  sun,  and  vital  sir  rc»pir*d. 
Like  thee  benighted,  and  with  travel  tlr*d, 
'Within  these  walls  I  slept.    O  thint  of  gaki ! 
See,  still  the  plaaks  the  bloody  mark  retain. 
Stretch'd  on  this  very  bed,  from  sleep  I  sUrt« 
And  sec  the  slccl  impending  o'er  my  heart  > 
Ihc  barbarous  hostc^s  held  the  Hfted  knile. 
The  floor  ran  purple  with  my  gutblng  liiie. 
My  treasure  now  they  s&eae,  the  goklen  spoil 
They  bury  deep  beneath  the  grass-^owH  soil. 
Far  in  the  common  field.    Be  bold,  adse. 
My  yteps  shall  lead  thee  to  the  secret  prise ; 
Tliere  d^  and  find ;   let  that  thy  caie  reward* 
Call  loud  00  jiutice,  bid  her  not  retard 
To  punish  murder ;   Uy  my  ghost  at  rest : 
S^  shall  with  peace  secure  thy  nigiiu  be  blest  i 
And,  when  beneath  these  boaids  my  bones  are 

found. 
Decent  iutcr  them  la  soac  sacred  ground. 

Here  ceas*d  the  ghost.    The  stranger  springs 
from  bed, 
And  boldly  follows  where  the  phantosh  led  : 
The  half-worn  stony  suirs  they  now  descend. 
Where  passages  obscttre  their  arches  bend. 
Silent  they  walk  i  and  now  through  groves  they 

Mow  through  wet  meads  their  steps  fanprint  ^e 

grass. 
At  length  amidst  a  spacious  field  tfiey  cane : 
'Fberc  stops  the  spectre,  and  asceads  in  flame, 
Aroas'd  he  stood,  no  bush  or  brier  was  foond. 
To  teach  his  morning  seaich  to  find  the  ground*. 
What  could  he  do  ^  the  night  was  hideous  dark. 
Fear  shook  his  joints,  and  nature  dropt  the  mark  ; 
With  thit  he  starting  wak'd,and  raised  his  head. 
But  found  the  golden  mark  wiu  left  in  bed. 

What  Is  the  sUtrsman*s  vait  anbItiou9scl)iemCf 
But  a  short  vision  and  a  golden  dream  ? 
Fower,  wealth,  and  title,  elevate  his  hope  $ 
lk.«rakc»i  but,  fov  a  garter,  fiadf  a  ro^ 


FA1R1N&-TIMK   AllTfCIFATI^»/ 

A  fable.     By  Cow/ier, 

I  SHALL  not  ask  Jean  Jacquu  Ronsseao,* 

If  birds  confabnlate  or  no  i 

TIs  clear  that  they  were  always  able 

To  hold  discourse,  at  least  in  fable ; 

And  cv*n  the  child,  who  knows  ne  better, 

1  ban  to  interpret  by  the  letter, 

A  story  of  a  cock  aiui  bull. 

Must  have  a  most  uncommon  skvU. 

It  chanc'd  then,  ou  a  wUitcr's  day. 
But  warm  and  bright,  and  cahn  as  May, 
The  blrdji,  conceiving  a  design 
To  forestal  sweet  St.  Valentbie, 
In  manv  an  orchard,  copse,  and  grove, 
Aitscmhfcd  on  affairs  of  love, 
AnU  with  much  twitter,  and  moch  chatter^ 
Bc);an  to  agitate  the  matter. 
At  leni;th  a  Bulfinch,  who  could  boast 
More  years  and  wisdom  than  the  mo»t. 
Entreated,  o^jcnin^  wide  his  beak, 
A  moment's  liberty  to  speak  ; 
And,  silence  publickly  cnjoin'd, 
Ddiver'd  briefly  thus  his  mind. 

My  friends  !    be  cautious  how  ye  treat 
The  subject  upon  which  we  meet  j. 
I  ftar  we  shall  have  winter  yet. 

A  Finch,  whose  tongue  luiew  no  control. 
With  golden  wing  and  satin  pole, 
A  last  year's  bird,  who  ne'er  nad  tried 
What  marriage  means,  thus  pert  replied. 

Methioks  the  gentleman,  quoth  she. 
Opposite  in  the  apple-tree. 
By  bis  good  will  would  keep  us  single, 
1  ill  yonder  heav'n  and  earth  shall  nUngle, 
Or  (which  is  likelier  to  befai) 
Till  death  exterminate  im  all, 
r  marry  without  more  ado. 
My  dear  IMck  Redcap,  what  lav  you  ' 

tHck  bqird  and  tweedlfaig,  ogliag,  bridKagy 
Turning  short  round,  struttiog  and  fcidcHng^ 
Attested,  glad,  his  approbation 
Of  an  immediate  conjugation* 
Their  sentiments  so  weU  expressed* 
Influenced  mi|:htUy  the  rest. 
All  palr*d,  and  each  pair  built  a  nest. 

But  though  tlie  birds  w«re  thcs  in  baste» 
The  Idves  came  on  not  quite  so  last. 
And  destiny,  that  sometimea  bean 
Ail  aspect  stem  on  men's  affaitt. 
Not  altogether  sa^l'd  on  thdrs. 
The  wind,  of  late  breath'd  gently  fortB» 
Now  shifted  east  arid  east  bv  north  -, 
Bare  trees  and  shrabs  but  ill,  you  know. 
Could  shelter  tkcm  from  rain  or  snow, 
Stepplnj'  Into  tlicir  nests,  they  paddled, 
Themsc.vcs  were  chill'd,  tlieii  epgs  were  addledf 
Soon  ev'ry  father  Msd  and  mothtr 
Gijew  quarrelsome,  and  peck'd  eacb  otliCS» 
Parted  without  the  least  regret. 
Except  that  they  had  ever  met. 
And  leam'd,  in  future,  to  be  wlser« 
Tnao  to  neglect  a  good  adviser. 

ItistructioTU 

MiMcs  t  the  tale  that  I  relate 

This  lesMn  seems  to  earr>'— 
Choose  not  atone  a  proper  matCt 

Bot  proper  time  to  marry. 


•  It  war  one  of  tSe  vihtmslcal  speculations  tf 
this  philosoplier,  that  all  fables  which  ascrBw 
reason  and  speech  to  animals  should  be  withheld' 
from  children,  as  being  only  vehicles  of  decep- 
tion. But  what  chUd  was  ever  deceived  by 
them,  or  caa  be,  agadnst  the  cvidcatc  «f  bft 
seQic»l 


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MEMOIRS   07  THK   AMERICAN    ACADEMY. 


a 


THE  BOSTON  REVIEW, 

For   Fkhruary,  1806. 

librrai  tuuoi  leg!  &  qaani  diKgentLaime  potul  annotavi,  quae  comtnuttnda,  qw«  eximenda,  v* 
kitnrer.  Nam  ego  Okere  vcrum  aMucvi.  Ncque  ulli  pacicntiiu  rcpreiiaidunUir.  ouam  otJt 
■aximc  l^iulari  mcrcotttx.— Winy.  »  'i         h-» 


ARTICLE    I. 

Afemoira  of  the  utmerican  Academy  • 
of  Art9   and  Scieficrs,      Vol.  L 
1785.      4/0.  /ifi.  568. 
rCoat]naed.J 
F.    Some   select   aatronomica!    oh* 
Mervationa  made  at  CheUea^  latitude 
42*  25',  and  26"  in  time  east  of  the 
utuvertdty  at  Cambridge,     Jiy  the 
Rev.  PhUafi»  Pay  son  J  F,  A.  A, 

The  astronomical  observationst 
bcre  selected,  arc  those  of  several 
emersions  of  Jupiter's  first,  sec- 
ond, and  third  satellites  in  1779  ; 
three  solar  eclipses,  namely,  in 
June,  1778,  October,  1780,  and 
Aprii,  1782;  two  lunar  eclipses, 
Dameiy,  in  May,  ir79,  and  Novem- 
ber, 1780;  and  the  transit  of 
Mercury  in  November,  1782. 

VL  Observation  qf  the  transit 
^  Mercury  aver  the  sun^  Mro,  12, 
1782,  ai  Ijiswich.  My  the  JRev. 
Manasaeh  Cutler^  F.A.A. 

The  gobg  of  the  clock  was 
carefully  examined,  and  the  times 
of  all  the  contacts,  except  the  first 
external,  were  determined. 

VII,  A  memoir^  containing  ob- 
kervations  of  a  solar  eclifise^  OctO" 
her,  27,  1780,  made  at  Beverly  : 
Also  of  a  Imiar  ecUflse^  March  29, 
1782  iofa  solar  eclifisey  April  12, 
and  of  the  transit  of  Mercury  over 
the  sun*s  disc,  November  .12,  the 
9ome  year,  made  at  the  firesident*s 
house  in  Cambridge,  By  the  Rev. 
Josefih  IViUardf  ftr^dent  qf  the  «- 
niversity. 

Beside  his  own  observadons  the 
iUthor  of  this  memoir  fumishw 


us  with  those  of  some  other  gen* 
tleraen,  who  accompanied  him  in 
attending  to  these  phenomena. 
And  having  corresponding  obser- 
vations of  the  first  of  the  said  e- 
clipscs  at  Beverly,  Chelsea,  Pe- 
nobscott-Bay,and  Pix>\idence  in  the 
state  of  Rhode-Island,  he  subjoins 
their  differences  of  longitude,which 
he  had  deduced,  and  consequently 
their  longitudes  from  Cambridge, 
that  of  Chelsea  relatively  to  Cam- 
bridge being  kno^vn.  Hence  it 
appears,  that  the  longitude  of  Bev- 
erly eastward  from  Cambridge  is  1' 
11"  in  time  ;  that  of  Penobscott- 
Bay  9'  15"  ;  and  that  of  Provi- 
dence 1'  7"  westward. 

From  the  times  of  the  contacts 
of  Mercury  at  the  said  transit, 
president  Willard,  using  Mayer*s 
solar  tables,  and  De  La  Landc's 
tables  of  Mercury,  calculates  the 
angle  of  Mercury'i  apparent  Way 
with  the  ectiptick,  the  time  of  the 
^cliptick  conjuncdon,  the  errpur 
of  the  tables  in  the  latitude  of  Mer- 
cury at  that  time,  which  appears 
to  be  5"'.98  in  defect.  He  also  de- 
duces the  place  of  Mercury!s  as* 
cending  node,  and  calculates  it 
from  the  tables  ;  whence  it  ap- 
pears, that  the  latter  differs  from 
the  former  1'  34"  in  excess. 

VIII,  Obaervations  qf  a  solar 
eclifisey  October  27,  1780,  made  at 
Si,  John's  Island,  by  Messrs,  Clarke 
and  JVright,  In  a  letter  from  Mr, 
Josefih  Peters  to  Caleb  Gannett^ 
A,M,  Rec.  Sec,  Amer,  Acad, 

These  observations  were  made 
at  a  place  called  Cltarlotte-town^ 
which,  according  to  Mr.  Wrighft 


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84 


MEMOIRS  OF  THE 


determination,  is  situated  in  46® 
13'  of  north  latitude,  and  62<>  50' 
of  west  longitude  from  Greenwich, 
In  this  account  it  is  stated  on  the 
authority  of  a  gentleman,  belong- 
ing to  Yarmouth-Jebouge-Har-r 
bour,  on  the  western  coast  of  No- 
va^Scotia,  that  this  eclipse,  which 
excited  great  attention  in  this  part 
of  the  country,  was  total  there  for 
•  moment* 

IX,  0b9crvation$  of  a  9olar  e^ 
C&><tf,  October  27,  1780,  made  at 
the  university  in  Cambridge,  Com* 
mttnicated  by  Caleb  Gannett^  A,M, 

The  observer^  of  this  eclipse  at 
Cambridge  were  the  Rev.  Profes- 
sor Wiggleswprth,  Mr.  Gannett, 
imd  the  Rev.  John  Mellen.  They 
did  not  perceive  the  beginning  of 
the  eclipse,  but  noted  very  partic* 
lilarly  the  disappearance  and  reap* 
pearance  pf  various  spots,  which 
Vere  then  visible  on  the  sun,  and 
the  end  gf  the  eclipse.  And  these 
may  be  compared  with  other  cor-r 
^responding  observations ;  some  at- 
tention having  been  paid  to  th^ 
passage  of  ^e  moon's  limbs  over 
^olar  spots  by  ipost  pf  the  ^strour 
Qmers,  who  observed  the  eclipse. 
The  quantity  of  the  ellipse  Uiey 
^stin^at^  at  \  1^  digits, 

X,  An  olfaervation  qf  a  solar 
fcH/taej,  October  27,  |786,  at  Prov^ 
idence,     By  Joaefih  Brovme^  Esq. 

The  beginning  of  the  eclipse 
was  not  seen,  bvit  the  times,  when 
the  moon's  limb  first  touched  cer» 
fain  solar  spots,  were  ascertained, 
imd  that  of  the  ei^d  lyas  noted  bv 
^hree  observers.  By  measure 
with  a  micrometer  Mr.  Bfown  dc» 
^ermined  the  quantity  of  th^  ^j 
^lipse  to  }^  abput  i  1 V,^  djgltfi. 

XL  ObnervatimiM  of  $he  solar 
fcSfise  of  the  ^Tthtf  October j  1780, 
piods  as  Mvfftortj  Rhode^Isiand^by 
;M(^^  4e  Qranehtfin^     Trttn^f^ts^ 


from  the  Jf/reneh^  and  eommtmkat^ 

ed  by  the  Rev,  President  IVUlard. 

By  these  observations  times  are 
determined,  when  limbs  of  the 
sun  and  moon,  and  the  sun's  horns 
passed  over  the  vertical  and  hoii- 
zontal  wires  of  a  telescope,  and 
when  the  eclipse  ended,  at  a  sta- 
tion on  Goat-Island  in  41*  SC  30* 
of  northern  latitude. 

M.  de  Granchain  also  observed 
the  lunar  eclipse  of  the  11th  of 
November,  1780,  at  the  same 
place.  And  the  memoir  contains 
his  observed  times  of  the  begin^r 
ning,  immersion,  and  emersion  of 
certain  spots,  and  the  end. 

XIL  Jn  account  qf  the  obser-* 
vations  made  in  Providence^  in  the 
state  of  Bhode^Islandy  of  the  eclifise 
(f  the  sun  J  vjhich  happened  the  23rf 
day  qf  April^  1 1%  \,  By  Benjamin 
West  J  Esq,  F,A.A, 

The  quantity  of  the  eclipse  and 
the  time  of  its  end  were  determin-^ 
ed.  And  Mr.  West  calculated  the 
moon's  diameter  from  the  magni* 
tude  of  the  eclipse  and  the  length 
of  the  chord,  joining  the  cusps  at 
the  time  of  greatest  obscuration. 

XIII.  Account  qf  the  transit  ^ 
Mercury^  observed  at  Cambridge^ 
JSTovember  12,  1788,  By  James 
Winthropj  Esq,  F,A,A, 

Observations  of  this  tranrit  by^ 
Judge  Winthrop  are  contained  in. 
Professor  Williams*  account  of 
t})ose,  which  w^ire  made  by  him- 
self and  others.  But,  in  the  me^ 
moir  before  us,  the  author  gives  ^ 
more  particular  relation,  with  some 
additional  fects  and  remarks. 

XIV,  Observations  of  an  ecUpse 
^  the  mosnj  March  29,  1782,  and 
^  an  ectipse  of  the  sun^  on  the  \2t^ 
qf  Aprils  following,  at  Ips^nch,  lat, 
42<>  38*30*.  By  the  Rev.  Manas^ 
*eh  Cutler^  P.  A.  A. 

Hclative  to  the  Iwar  «<Jipse, 


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AMBKICAK  ACADEMY. 


B$ 


tiie  beginning,  immersion,  and  e- 
mersion  of  several  spots,  and  the 
end  were  observed,  and  the  times 
of  the  phenomena  respectively  de- 
terniined. 

Of  the  solar  eclipse  the  begin- 
ning and  end  were  seen,  and  the 
times  noted  by  Dr.  Cutler,  and 
two  other  gentlemen,  who  observ- 
ed in  company  with  him. 

jr.  On  the  extraction  of  roots. 
By  Benjamin  JVest,,  Esq,  F,A,A, 

The  author's  design  in  this  per- 
formance we  shall  give  in  his  own 
words.  "  What  I  chiefly  aimed 
At  was,  to  render  the  method  of 
txuucting  the  roots  of  the  odd 
powers  easier,  and  less  burthen- 
some  to  the  memory  ;  and,  I  think, 
I  have  not  failed  in  my  attempt. 
The  method,  followed  by  Ward^ 
and  others,  is  excellent,  but  is  at- 
tended with  too  much  difiRculty  in 
getting  the  divisors  \  especially 
{op  learners,  who  are  not  acquaint- 
ed with  the  reason  of  the  rules. 
That  difficulty  I  have  stiiven  to 
remedy  in  the  following  work." 

Dr.  West  here  gives  the  inves- 
tigation and  exemplification  of 
rules  for  extracting  the  third,  fifth, 
and  seventh  roots  ;  and  observes, 
that  similar  methods  may  be  found 
for  extracting  the  roots  of  the  even 
powers,  and  that  he  has  not  met 
with  an  instance,  where  the  ap* 
proximation  is  not  as  rapid  by  his 
rules,  as  by  those  of  Ward. 

It  may  be  seen  by  looking  into 
Ward's  Algebra,  in  his  "  Young 
Mathematician's  Guide,"  that  in 
the  process  of  forming  theorems 
for  extracting  the  roots  of  simple 
pr  pure  powers,  the  equation  im- 
inediately  preceding  each  theorem 
is  of  the  affected  quadratick  kind, 
f  representing  the  part  of  the  root 
to  be  found  or  the  unknown  quan- 
tity. But  instead  of  solving  this 
rq^ia^p  \x\  th^  usual  mmmer^  and 


thus  obtaining  a  rule  for  finding 
the  remainder  of  the  root,  the  au- 
thor deduced  his  tlieorem  by  mak- 
ing the  unknown  quantity  itself  a 
part  of  the  divisor.  Hence  arises 
the  difficulty,  which  learners  exj>e- 
rience  in  find'mg  the  divisors  in 
tliis  metliod.  The  excess  of  this 
difficulty  above  the  degree  of  it> 
which  belongs  to  the  common 
method  of  extracting  the  square 
root.  Dr.  West,  we  think,  has  a- 
voided  in  his  rules,  which  he  ob- 
tained, as  an  algebraist  will  readily 
perceive,  by  a  process  differing 
from  that  of  Ward  in  the  solution 
of  the  aforesidd  equations,  which 
are  treated  as  affected  quadratick 
equations. 

In  a  similar  manner  a  general 
theorem  for  the  extraction  of  roots 
may  be  investigated,  from  which 
these  and  other  particuKir  rules  are 
easily  deduced  by  only  substituting 
particular  for  general  and  distin- 
guishing quantities.  But  the  gen- 
eral rule  of  approximation  for  the 
extraction  of  roots,  which  we  pre- 
fer to  any  that  we  have  seen,  was 
discovered  by  Dr.  Hutton,  and  is 
in  his  arithmetick,  and  in  the  Math^ 
ematical  Text^Bookj  used  in  the 
University. 

XVI,  A  new  and  concise  meth* 
od  of  cow  fluting  interest  at  six  fier 
cent,  tier  annum.     By  Philomath, 

This  memoir  contains  two  con- 
cise rules  for  computing  the  inter- 
est of  any  principal,  expressed  in 
pounds  and  parts  of  a  pound,  for 
any  time,  expressed  in  months  and 
parts  of  a  month,  at  the  rate  of  6 
per  centum.  They  are  obtained  by 
contracting  the  operation  for  find- 
ing the  answer  to  a  single  exam- 
ple, stated  in  compound  propor- 
tion. The  conclusions  however 
depend  on  general  principles,  and 
their  truth  is  sufficiently  apparent. 
These  rules  are  not  given  as  new 


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M 


zjifrnnt  t«OM  Emofm. 


discoyerieft,  but  probably  with  a 
wiew  to  extend  the  knowledge  of 
them,  and  to  shew  their  truth. 
And  to  fiicilitate  their  application 
tables  of  decimal  parts  of  a  pound 
mnd  of  a  month,  with  the  manner 
of  deducing  the  intei'est  at  anjr 
other  rate  from  that  at  6  per 
cent,  are  annexed. 

XFII,  Several  way*  of  deter' 
mhwtg  what  mm  is  to  be  insured 
on  an  adventure^  that  the  whole  in' 
ttrett  may  be  centered.  By  Mer* 
cator. 

Three  methods  are  here  given. 
The  first  is  said  to  be  most  com- 
mon. It  is  Uierefore  probables  that 
the  last  is  less  extensively  known. 
For  we  think  no  person,  acquaint- 
ed with  this,  would  ever  make  use 
of  that.  To  extend  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  last  method,  and  to 
show  its  advantage  relatively  to  the 
others  by  coqtiparison  we  suppose 
to  have  been  the  object  of  the  com- 
jnunication. 

7(1  be  contintitd. 


ART.  4. 

Ijettiv  from  Eurofie^  during  a 
tour  through  Switzerland  and 
Italy y  in  the  years  1801  and 
1802,  by  a  Native  qf  Pemt&yl' 
^ania,  Philadelphia,  1805,  Bar^ 
tram.  3  1/0/9.  bvo.  Pricr  £6,50. 

EvRRT  traveller,  when  he 
breaks  from  the  comforts  of  his 
own  home,  and  is  beginning  to 
estrange  himself  from  the  blesv 
Ings  and  habits  of  his  country, 
creates  himself,  at  once,  a  kind  of 
hero  of  adventure.  His  fancy  is 
chivalrous  in  its  wanderings,  and 
is  already  blazoning  in  the  ilts 
and  tournaments  of  the  sublime 
passions  of  men.  He  rushes,  with 
all  the  impetuosity  of  vain  enter- 
pi8e>  into  the  romance  of  liici  be* 


cause  every  thing  is  new,  strange, 
and  confused.  All  his  foimer 
anxieties,  duties,  and  habits  he 
leaves  at  the  sill  of  his  own  door, 
and,  as  he  departs  from  it  into  dis- 
tance, he  amuses  the  weariness  of 
his  many  footsteps  with  the  new 
motion  of  physical  change,  and 
enlivens  the  solitude  of  his  mind 
with  the  strange  operations  of 
moral  alteration.  That  our  au- 
thor is  eminently  of  this  character 
and  spirit,  we  shall  have  occasion 
to  show  hereafter. 

The  book  is  two  stout  volumes, 
anonymous  in  the  title  page  ;  but 
we  find  that  tanity  gets  the  better 
of  the  author's  prudence,  and  he 
grows  so  charmed  with  himself 
Uiat  he  cannot  help  hinting  to  the 
eager  world,  in  the  second  volumet 
who  he  is.  It  is  dedicated  to  a 
Mr.Hamilton,"  of  the  woodlands,** 
partly  on  account  of  his  **  lib^ 
eral  application  to  horticulture.'* 
No  book  was  ever  less  wanted,than 
the  Pennsylvanian's,  and-  none 
ever  deser\'ed  type  and  paper  less. 
But  hear  his  reason  for  publish- 
ing ;  "  he  is  the  first  Ameiican,wl.o 
ever  wrote  his  travels."  His  colum' 
bianismg  are  sufficient  credentials 
to  prove  to  Us  whence  he  came, 
and  whither  he  is  going.  "  Debe- 
mur  nos  nostraque  morti." 

We  will  now  perform  a  little  of 
our  itinerant  duty  with  our  litera- 
ry traveller.  We  should  not  be 
able  to  follow  him  in  very  close  suc- 
cession, however,  if  the  path  had 
not  been  so  well  trodden  before 
him,  for  his  own  track  is  so  faint, 
that  we  are  half  the  time  out  of 
Mght  of  our  guide. 

The  Pennsylvanian  beg^s  now 
to  show  himself  the  hero  we  de- 
scribed. He  drives  off  full  tilt 
along  the  gay  "  Boulevards  de 
Paris,"  and  in  his  erratick  ardour 
he  declares  to  us,  that "  he  happilf 
missed  running  over  any  body  h 


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S7 


the  Rae  St.  Dennis,  or  on  the 
Pont  neuf  ;"  and  he  rattles  the 
.  reader  to  Basil,  tho\igh  distant 
from  Paris  some  hundred  miles, 
in  the  hurry  of  one  short  letter. 

From  Basil  he  proceeds  to  Zu- 
rich, and  from  Zurich  to  Berne. 
Though  Berne  is  the  capital  of  all 
the  Si^iss  cantons,  and  has  so 
much  to  intercst  the  traveller,  our 
author  has  not  said  a  word  on  the 
peculiar  neatness  and  style  of  this 
city,  nor  even  informed  us,  wheth- 
er th6  French,  or  German  lan- 
guage is  spoken  here.  He  says 
nothing  of  the  cathedral,  which 
is  the  most  imposing  and  solemn 
Gothick  pile  in  Europe  ;  nor  of  the 
western  part  of  the  city,  which 
hangs  so  strangely  so  many  hun- 
dred feet  over  the  rushing  torrent 
of  the  Aar.  The  following  para- 
graph contains  every  xrord,  our 
author  says  of  Berne.  "  The  next 
morning  we  rose  with  the  lark, 
before  the  easy  cits  had  left  their 
beds,  breakfasted  on  the  banks 
of  the  Aar  on  a  loaf  of  bread 
smd  bottle  of  wine,  and  brandish- 
kig  our  oaken  staffs  went  on  again 
with  fresh  spirits  for  Thun." 

We  next  find  our  guide  at  AI- 
tiMf,  the  capi^  of  the  canton  of 
Uri,  situated  nearly  on  the  Lake 
»fthe  four  cantons.     The  next  ob- 


beneath.  It  wa^  in  these  soloma 
and  silent  recesses  of  nature,  that 
the  Swiss  heroes  held  their  secret 
revolutionary  meetings  for  the 
freedom  of  their  country.  It  was 
along  these  cliffs  and  glens,  that 
the  wild  Tell  leapt  after  the  thin 
and  fleeting  form  of  liberty. 

The  reader  is  now  carried 
through  the  picturesque  valley  of 
Schoellenen,  without  knowing  it  ; 
and  he  is  transported  over  the  stu- 
pendous uTiountain  of  St.  Gothard 
by  the  most  turgid  swell  of  con- 
ceited description.  Those,  who 
have  not  experienced  the  hard- 
ships and  terroursof  the  Alpine 
regions,  will  tnow  nothing  of 
them  in  the  heroicks  of  the  Penn- 
sylvanian,  though  he  may  feel 
them  in  the  lines  of  Pope. 


-AC  lint  tfie  towering  Alps  we  try« 


Moaat  o*cr  the  rocks,  and  teem  to  tread  the  «kf « 
Tti'  eternal  ino%rt  appear  alreadf  paft. 
And  the  ftrtt  clouds  and  moontaizu  leem  tke  last  i 
But  these  attained,  we  tremble  to  surrey 
Tlie  growing  labours  of  the  length'ned  way  9 
ffli*  Increasing  prospect  tires  our  laboring  eyesv 
MBs  peep  e*a  hils,  and  AJpa  on  Alps  arise. 

We  now  leave  these  sublime 
altitudes,  where  we  have  over- 
looked the  world,  and  descend 
from  that  cold  elevation,  where  wc 
forcibly  felt  oar  proximity  to  the 
other  planets,  to  the  smooth  sur- 
face of  the  lake  Maggiore,  and 
the  still  plains  of  Lombardy, 
^  diis  patriis  Italoque  cxlo.** 

The  writer's  first  letter  on  Italy 
(Let.  6)  begins  with  the  differe&t 
modes  of  travelling  in  that  cotm- 
try,  by  vohure,  (better  known 
there  by  the  name  of  vctturino) 
brocache,  and  post.  He  does  not 
appr9ve  of  traveiling  by  post, 
which  is  indeed  the  only  mode^  by 
which  a  gentleman  can  travel 
with  any  convenience  or  advan- 
tage in  this  country,  on  account 
of  ^  being  obliged  to  travel  ^th  % 
lacquey,"  or  in  other  words,  with 
a  couritr  avant.    Thisi  however. 


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ii:tT£its  FROM  tvnotZs 


is  not  the  case ;  for,  if  travellers  do 
not  speak  Italian,  they  can  gener- 
ally make  themselves   current,  in 
any  part  of  Italy,  with  a  very  mod- 
erate share  of  theFrench  language. 
We  have  now  to  pass  through 
the  old  states  of  Milan,  Lodi,  Par- 
Hta,Modena,  and  Bologna,  then  uni- 
ted under  the -futile  title  of  the  Cisal- 
pineRepublick,and  since  denomina- 
ted the  kingdom  of  Italy.  But  of  the 
political  changes  and  oppressions 
of  these  dukedoms  he   says  noth- 
ing, and  the  reader  is  not  even  in- 
formed, that,  by  the  articles  sign- 
ed by  Melas  after  the  victory  of 
Marengo,    Buonaparte    was    ad- 
nutted  to  Milan  with   triumphal 
entry,  and  placed  over  the  whole 
of  subjugated  Lombardy   (except- 
ing the  Venetian   state)  from  the 
Alps  to  the  Appenines,  and  from 
theAdriatick  to  theMediterranean. 
We  now  meet  our  guide  at  Flo- 
rence, and  our  cuiiosity  is  highly 
excited  to  have  all  the  interesting 
objects  of  "Firenze  la  bella,"  point- 
ed out  to  us.     We  regret,  that  the 
limits  of  a  review  preclude  our 
filling  up  the  deficiencies  of  our 
author's  letter  on  this  city.     How 
cold  and  stupid  must  he  be,  who 
has  gazed  on  the  figures  of**  Dai/ 
mnd  Mghtf*  and  of  "  Morrdng  and 
Evening  Twilight  ;**  resting  on  the 
tombs  of  Julio  and  Lorenzo  of 
Medici,  not  to  mention  more  than 
their  mere  names  and  place ;    who 
could  view  these,  without  behold- 
ing the  splendour  of  Day  break- 
ing from  a  body  of  marble,  or 
without   feeling    his  whole    soul 
overshadowed  with  the  thick  and 
impenetrable  darkness  of  JVighi  ; 
or  who  would   not    perceive  his 
sight  was  dimmed,  and  that  light 
was*  mysteriously   stealing    away 
from  every  surrounding  object,  in 
the  effect  of  the  figures  of  7W- 
Ught  !   These  are  the  powers  of  a 
genius  so  bright,  so  mysterious^ 


and  so  dark,  as  that  of  MichaeL 
Angelo  ! 

In  his  letter  on  Florence,  our  au- 
thor has  said  little  of  this  intellec- 
tual prodigy  ;  little  of  the  bright 
Gallileo  ;  nothing  of  the  intricate 
MachiavelU;  &  nothing  of  the  dark 
spirit  of  Dante,  who  declares  to  us, 
he  will  often  make  holy  visltationa 
on  the  still  banks  of  the  Amo. 
We  think  also,  as  our  author  is  an 
American,  (and, "  for  that  reason,*' 
troubles  his  countr>'men  with  his 
travels)  he  might  have  done  more, 
than  merely  to  mention  the  name 
of  Araericus  Vespucius,  and  tho' 
no  sarcophagus,  proudly  fretted 
with  tlie  histoiy  of  his  enterprises, 
contains  his  bones,  still  he  ought 
to  have  entered  the  church  of  San- 
ta Bourgona,  where,  on  a  rough ^ 
tombstone,  is  this  incription  : 
8.  Aniaigo  Vctpudo  lubque  amkih  XXXTH. 

Mr.  S.  here  speaks  of  that 
strange  order  of  men,  who  seem 
to  have  descended  from  the  ancient 
Troubadours,  and  who  call  them- 
selves ImfirovtMaiori^  and  quotet 
Dr.  Moore  upon  them  ;  but  as 
neither  the  Doctor,  nor  himself, 
has  -given  a  specimen  of  their  pow- 
ers of  impromptu^  we  will  subjoin 
the  following  courteous  address. 

Di  Btrtolo,  e  dl  Baldo,  nimtre  BgB«, 
Colmo  dl  sel,  di  probita,  dl  onore 
alia  tna  ^tria  accretd  an  gran  t^endofC 

Amplo  dl  meate,  e  multo  pta  di  core* 
Hon  ti  pone  in  fgofnento  alcon  pen  11to» 
E  di  protpen  torte  egni  favore 
acoevi  ognor  aensa  inarcail  0  CigBo. 

Of  the  Florentine  Gallery,  tho*  ^ 
instituted  by  Cosmo,  finished  by 
Lorenzo,  and  protected  by  the  suc- 
ceeding families  of  the  Medici,  our 
author  gives  no  history.  Of  its 
splendid  treasures  he  does  not 
think  xouch,  though  still  among 
them  are  the  beautiful  antiques  of 
the  young  Apollo ;  the  head  of  A- 
lexander,  sighing  liter  other  worlds 
to  conquer  ;  and  the  Roman  alave. 


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tfetTftlt^  F&Oll  fiUROPH.' 


«9 


trtid  Is  $tiU  listening.  Among 
the  pictures,  ai*c  the  Holy  Family 
©f  Corrigeo,  the  yomig  St.  John 
of  Raphael,  a  Maddalena  of  GuidO, 
and  the  Venus  dF  Titiani  These 
are  mentioned  by  Mr.  S.  merely 
ms  articles  in  hb  hotch-potch  cat-* 
llogue.  As  the  corridors  of  this 
gallery  arc  replete  with  chronologt' 
iati  specimens  of  the  fine  arts,  and 
aa  its  saloons  contain  still  so  many 
exquisite  pieces  of  the  classical 
painters,  we  woiild  recommend  the 
leader  to  consult  «  Saggio  Istorla 
dcUa  Galleria  di  Firenze,^'  8vo.  3 
Irois.  and  a  more  modem  descrip-' 
ticm  in  French,  printed  at  Florence, 

We  leave  Florence  for  Siena^ 
laid  though  the  country  to  this  city 
is  so  picturesque,  We  hear  nothing 
of  it.  At  Stiena,  oUr  traveller 
•*  siaid,  iMlc  hU  horses  were  feed*' 
if^Sy*  and  makes  not  an  obsertation, 
except  tills  Very  sensible  one,  «  the 
Cathedral  has  a  Unsey^^tvooisey  afi^ 
feorance^  He  now  passes  along 
Ibe  stbl  and  retired  legions  of  Bal- 
sena  and  MontipftscOne,  without  a 
fingle  remark,  though  the  poet 
kere  recommended  so  strongly, 
this  pleasant  and  sweet  retreat  from 
the  cookshopB,  and  noise,  and  dust 
of  the  city. 

*  S  UfrsCaKtiAts,  et  prfamm  Mitifnn  in  hohu&i 
0eiectat,  d  le  polf  k,  atrqrfhitqae  roUmm, 
K  faedit  caupooa,  remitioum*  lie  jubebo.** 
ftorat 

We  are  now  in  the  ancient  cap-" 
hal  of  the  world,  and  seem  forever 
to  have  lost  jqmx  guide  among  ru- 
ined temples  and  lallbg  monu-* 
niems.  We  sometimes  see  him 
learfng  against  a  tottering  colunm, 
and  sometimes  catch  him  gliding 
through  the  broken  archer  of  huge 
tqueducts  ;  and  so  do  we  the  lean 
and  cold-blooded  priest,  or  the  fat 
and  sweltering  capuchin.      Here 

Vol  III.  No.  3.    M 


again  is  the  same  fulsome  inflatioil 
of  the  writer's  style  ;  and  because 
his  subject  is  more  sublime,  he 
thinks  he  must  become  more  tur-* 
gid.  It  will  be  too  fatiguing  to 
us,  and  too  uninteresting  to  out* 
readers,  to  trace  the  heavy  and 
Gotiiick  feet  of  oiir  author  through 
the  solemn  and  dark  ruins  Of  im- 
perial Rome,  Wev  will  not  pro- 
fane its  deep  gloom  and  awful  as* 
semblage  of  stupendous  objects^ 
by  here  holding  commtinicm  with 
him. 

of  St*  Peter's  he  has  said  much^ 
and  much  incorrectly.  In  his  his-* 
tory  of  it,  he  asserts,  that  it  was 
three  hundred  years  in  building  \ 
it  was  but  one  hundred  and  six. 
Instead  of  its  being  begun  in  1450| 
in  the  time  of  pope  Nicholas  fifth, 
it  was  commenced  under  Julio 
second,  in  1506^  by  Bramante,  on 
the  spot  where  the  first  christiaii 
church  Was  built  by  Constantine. 
Bramante,  in  the  sublimity  of  his 
genius,  so  projected  8t.  Peter's^ 
that  the  most  perfect  of  the  an- 
cient temples,  the  pantheon,  could 
be  sustained  by  this  solid  super- 
structure of  christian  faith.  That 
is,  that  the  dimensions  of  this  ca- 
thedral Should  be  proportionable 
to  the  dimensions  of  the  pantheon 
for  its  dome. 

But  the  lines  of  Brattlante,  be* 
ing  reduced  by  the  succeeding  ar- 
tichects  of  St.  Peter's,  the  dome 
iiras  consequently  reduced  a  few 
feet  in  diameter,  and  in  1588  Do- 
menico  Fcmtana  hung  this  bright 
hemisfihere  over  that  world  of  ar- 
chitectural beauties.  The  colon- 
nade, which  was  afterwards  added^ 
(and  which  our  author  calls  a 
«  sweeping  forest  of  300  columns**) 
is  the  splendid  work  of  Pemini. 
We  must  now  confess,  that  we 
have  no  sympathy  in  a  single  de- 
scription of  Mr.  S.  at  Rome,  and 
we  can  remain  with  bim:  there  no 


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#d 


liETTERS   FROM   Et^ROPE. 


longer.  He  evidently  has  a  soul, 
which  can  reflect  no  brightness  in 
the  full  splendour  of  St.  Peter's, 
and  wiiich  can  feel  no  melancholy 
in  the  fading  glory  of  the  Colis- 
Geum. 

Tivoli,  the  ancient  Tibur,  was, 
p  obably,a  deserted  city  in  the  time 
of  Augustus,  as  it  was  built  some 
hundred  years  even  before  the 
time  of  RomuUis.     Horace  says, 

MIM  non  jam  repa  Rttma, 
Sed  vacuum  Tibur  placet. 

Mr.  S.  speaks  of  Tivoli,  as  if  its 
peculiarity  consisted  in  its  having 
once  been  a  splendid  city,  and  not 
in  the  classical  remembrance  of 
the  sweet  retirement  of  Hwace, 
where  he  spent  such  meny  times 
with  Maecenas  ;  nor  in  the  splen- 
dour and  magnificence  of  the  vil- 
la's of  Lucuiius  and  Adrian.  Ho- 
race thus  speaks  of  it. 

Tihur   argoeo  positum  colono. 
Sit  meoB  sedes  utiaam  scncctae. 

On  tae  modern  Frescatti  and 
the  ancient  Tusculum  our  travel- 
ler is  wholly  silent,  tliough,  on  its 
hills  was  the  "  Superni  villa  can- 
dens  Tusculi,  of  Horace,  and  there 
Cicero  enjoyed  his  "  Dies  Tuscu- 
lanos." 

We  are  now  fast  approaching 
the  end  of  our  journey,  having  to 
trace  a  distance  only  of  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles  to  Naples. 
Here  we  have  sometimes  to  move 
wit|i  a  slow  and  solemn  step, 
through  the  gloomy  ranges  of  se- 
pulchral monuments,  overhung 
with  the  mists  of  the  campagna^ 
and  sometimes  to  saunter  listless- 
ly along  the  mellow  fields  and 
through  tlie  ethereal  expanse  of 
the  ager  Felix. 

Naples,  as  a  city,  has  every 
thing  to  interest  and  please  the 
traveller,  whether  his  sight  he  con- 
fused with  the  moving  column  of 
men,  which  struggles  through  the 
Toledo,  or  whether,  as  he  wanders 


along  the  Chlaia,  his  eye  ilepostes 
on  the  smooth  and  quiet  surfaces 
of  its  bay,  or  is  elevated  by  the 
dark  and  lofty  promontory  of  Mi- 
senum,  or  brightened  by  the  blaz- 
ing summit  of  Vesuvius.  If  he 
be  a  traveller  of  pleasure,  at  Na- 
ples his  whole  senses  may  enjoy 
the  fullest  repletion.  His  eye 
may  forever  move  through  now 
tracts  of  delighttul  vision,  in  its 
environs  ;  his  ear  may  be  filled 
with  the  softest  sounds  of  Neapol- 
itan musick  J  his  odour  will  be  in 
the  fragrant  breezes  from  the  ag^ 
Felix  \  and  his  touch  will  be  in 
the  sweetest  state  of  delectation  in 
the  universal  contact  of  the  softest 
and  purest  atmosphere* 

If  he  be  a  scholar,  in  its  neigh- 
bourhood he  will  find  himself  in 
the  fairy  land  of  classical  poetry  ; 
and  the  ideal  regions  of  ancient 
romance  will  now  have  the  visible 
locality  of  the  Baian  coast.  He 
will  now  ascend  th«  moontaiOf 
wheit:  ^neas  piously  placed  the 
bones  of  his  companion  MisenuS} 
after  his  battle  with  Triton. 

**  At  phu  JEneas  ingentl  mote  lepnlclinim 
Imponiit,  fuaqae  anna  Tiro,  rennmque«  to- 

bain  que, 
Monte  fubaereo,  qui  nunc  Mlienum  ab  Hlo 
Dicitus,  etoraumq^  tenet  per  tccuU  noioca.* 
Viigil. 

Having  now  seen  performed  the 
funeral  rites  of  Misenus,  he  de- 
scends the  promontory  with-fineas, 
passes  the  temple  of  Apollo,*  and, 
in  order  to  consult  the  Cumoean 
sibyl,t  enters  with  him  her  re- 
sounding cavern. 

*•  At  pltM  .fintaa  arcea,  qoibiM  altoa  A|)ollo 
Prauidct,  horrendaeque  procul  accreta  dbyUs, 
Antnimimmane  petit.**  lb. 

Having  consulted  the  prophetess, 
he  commences  with  iEneas  his  de<* 


«  Tbe  walk  oT  this  temple,  which  staiid  neat 
the  entrance  of  the  cave,  are  attn  entire. 

f  The  cave  of  the  aibvl  is  to  the  eastward  of 
the  lake  of  Avernus.     ft   may  be  passed,  with 
much  ditl«ulcy^  to  tbc  cod  ivbat  it  tnsl 
tftcica* 


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LBTTKTiS  FROM  CUROPE. 


91 


scent  to  htVty  and  his  visitation  of 
Eiysixtm. 

**  Hk  locof  est  partes  abi  se  via  findit  !n  ambaa, 
Dextcra  qine  Ditia  magnl  sub  nuenia  tendit ; 
Hmc  iter  Byvcan  Dobb.  lb. 

Here  he  finds  U  ie^(f  (TAvernoy 
formerly  surrounded  hy  a  deep 
forest,  which  Agrippa  leteUed. 
The  poets  here  made  the  entrance 
of  hell,  as  appears  by  Virgil. 

■«  Spdonci  aha  fuft,  Tastoqiieiminanis.hiata* 
Scrapea  tuta,  lacu  nigro  nemorumque  tencbris: 
— — ^— i^-  dixerunt  nomine  Avenuim.** 

lb. 

Having^  now  passed  through  the 
bomours  of  the  infernal  regions, 
he  sooQ  enjoys  the  silence  and 
beauty  of  the  Elysian  fields. 

••  Hb  dennim  cacactb, 
Dcrcoere  locot  loetoi,  et  amaena  vlreta 
TOTtaoatortiin  oenMrum,  ae4e»que  beataa. 
Larsbi' tuc  campos  Kther  ct  luodne  vcstit 
Forpareo.'*  lb. 

But  our  author  is  above  classical 
aUusioHt  and,  of  course,  is  silent 
on  these  subjects  of  pleasant  in« 
quiry. 

We  shall  now  conclude  our 
travelling  remarks  with  the  Penn- 
sylvanian's  description  of  the  eter- 
nal functions  of  Vesuvius,  and 
urith  that  of  Pliny  the  younger. 

We  approached  the  crater,  a  hill 
of  ashes  and  pummice  fttonei,  near 
enough  t9  bear  tb«  great  pot  boil^  produc- 
ing a  tonad,  that  exactly  resembled  the 
May  rf  a  eauUrm,     P.  198.  vol.  ii. 

.  "  Jam  pomices  etiam  nigrique  et  am- 
busti  et  fracti  igoe  lapides  indderant. 
fanerini  e  Vesuvio  monte  pturibus  lods 
latiisnmB  flammae  altaque  incendia  reluc&> 
bam,  quoram  fulgor  et  daritms  tenebris 
Aoctis  excitabatur.  Jam.  dies  alibi,  iliic 
JK>z  omnibus  ooctibus  nigrior  densior* 
que."  C,  Plin.  Tacito. 

Having  now  marked  out  a  few 
of  the  sins  of  ombsion,  in  our  au- 
thor, we  shall  expose  to  view  a  few 
of  his  sins  of  commission. 

There  b  no  kind  of  writing, 
whicii  at  first  thought  pleases  morei 


or  in  project  seems  easier,  than  that 
of  travels  ;  and,  consequently,  ev- 
ery man,  who  has  travelled,  thinks 
he  has  a  rij^ht  to  become  autlior. 
Most  of  the  requisites  of  fine  v  ri- 
ting  are,  however,  here  necessary, 
from  the  simplest  narration  to  the 
fiilness  and  splendour  of  figurative 
description.  The  mind  must  here 
observe  closely,  and  without  pre- 
judice, and  we  must  relate  with 
correctness  and  elegance.  We 
must  be  coiTect  concerning  facts  ; 
and  we  ought  to  be  elegant  on  that, 
which  is  already  elegant.  The 
book,  which  is  now  before  us,  is 
not  only  destitute  of  every  such 
principle  and  rule,  but  exhibits  to 
us  the  most  ludicrous  and  striking 
carricature  of  the  grace  and  digni- 
ty of  a  well-formed  work.  When 
the  turgid  answers  for  the  sublime ; 
modern  sentimental  conceit  for  na- 
tural and  unaflfected  passion  ;  and 
hard  words  for  peculiar  idestfl,  the 
Pennsylvanian  will  be  thought  a 
good  writer.  We  subjoin  a  few 
examples  of  our  author's  style  and 
manner  to  prove  the  impartiality 
of  our  remarks.  For  the  clear  and 
perspicuous  the  following  (so  crow- 
ded v>\x\\  light). 

An  illuminated  cross  is  suspended  m 
the  air,  beneath  the  dome  of  St.  PeterV  ; 
'wben  the  symboVick  refulgence  creates  sub- 
h'me  effects  of  light  and  shade,  glittering 
upon  the  gilded  ceiling,  running  into  ob- 
scurity in  the  recesses  of  the  chapels,  dy 
ing  away  in  the  dome,  and  fading  by  de- 
grees on  the  sides  of  the  nave  in  the 
xueaJhr  and  -weaker  reflections  of  diagonal 
raJtatioH,     P<  269.  V.  tL 

Again. 

A  briiliant  orange,  melting  into  a  pea- 
green  of  the  most  vivid  transparency, 
was  richly  irradiated  from  behind  a  ridge 
of  mounuins  upon  the  distant  horizon, 
empurpled  with  the  fairy  tinge  of  aax 
Italian  atmosphere.    P.  279.  vol.  iu 

We  cannot  refrain  from  extrac- 
ting the  following  sinking,  mock- 
hcroick  sentiment. 


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§f 


CHAKDiLIJl^S    LtVB  Q» 


I  taw  the  fu^  go  down  oo  the  cmm* 

bling  walls  of  the  villa  of  AdriaQ-^«A^, 
fit  10  oclocA  at  might,  as  I  sit  in  a  lai'ge 
room,  scantily  bung  with  the'  scrawls  of 
wandering  travellers,  I  hear  the  roar  of 
the  Anio,  and  my  tvimdavft  rattU  with  % 
lising  blast.-—//  reminds  me^  that  I  am 
iiioiu — five  thousand ^iles  from  my  own 
iiresidc—rThe  thought  is  serious — it 
•tQps  my  rtsmU'tngprn.     ?.  948.  vol  ii* 

But  our  author  does  not  stand 
charged  merely  with  having  viola- 
ted the  laws  of  writing  ;  he  is 
8tLl  more  criminal  by  his  forgery 
of  words.  This  is  a  crime  so  a-« 
trociouS|  that  we  can  receife  no 
inotion  for  the  arrest  of  judgment, 
and  no  petition  for  the  extension 
of  pardon.  If  the  following  are 
pot  words  of  his  own  formation, 
they  are  tndianismsy  with  which  we 
are  nqt  acquainted  ;  from  their 
length  we  should  tj^ke  them  for  the 
names  of  Indian  roots.  «  Swamp* 
^d  ;"  *«  Insurrectionary  ;"  "  im-» 
portunacy }"  "  romantically  j"  &c. 

The  laughable  application  of  the 
following  terms  brings  strongly  to 
our  mind  the  manner  of  a  quack's 
prescription.  «  Sinister  ray  ;** 
*«  cubick  cottages  ;"  "  transfixed 
waves  ;"  «  spii^  protuberances  ;" 
«  monotony  of  silence  ;'*  "  hillocks 
of  the  Appenines  ;**  "  rainbow 
of  a  nave  j"  "  inimitable  taste  of 
time." 

From  the  advertisement  of  the 
book  we  should  be  led  tp  think, 
that  Mr.  S.  was  some  great  politi-^ 
cal  and  literary  personage,  and  that 
he  intends  again  to  appear  to  the 
publick  in  letters  on  England  and 
France.  But  we  warmly  advise 
the  Pcnnslvanian  to  retire  "  to  the 
Woodlands  of  Mr.  Hamilton,"  his 
>I»cenas,  where,  "  throvgh  the 
loopholes  of  retreat,"  he  may  see 
the  swollen  and  dropsical  carci^of 
his  work  heaped  on  the  fua^ral 
pile  of  corrupt  literature. 


aitT.  s. 
77ie  life  of  Satmiel  Johmon^  it.  d, 
th^  Jirat  firendent  of  King* 9  cofm 
UgCy  /iewyork,  Coniazning  mam^ 
interesting  anecdotes  ;  a  gtnertd 
view  qf  the  state  qf  religion  and 
learning  tnConnectic^t^  during  the 
former  fiart  qf  tfie  last  century  j 
and  an  account  qf  the  institution 
and  rise  of  Yale  collegey  Cormec-^ 
ticut  ;  and  of  Xing^s  (novf  Co^ 
luTnhiaJ  college^  J^'etvyork.  By 
ThomafB,  Chandler^  DJi^ormeV'* 
ly  rector  of  St.  John's  churchy 
EUzabethtoitm^  ^,  J,  JTo  fvMci 
is  addedf  an  afifiendixj  containing 
fn(iny  original  letters  to  Dr,Johnm 
son.  New  York.  Swords,  1805, 
12mo.    pp.  308. 

Cajllimacbus,  the  learned  E« 
l>rarian  of  Ptolemy  Philadelphus, 
king  of  Egypt,  considered  by  all 
antiquity  as  the  prince  of  elegiack 
poets,  judged  of  a  book  from  its 
sis^e  and  the  number  of  its  pages  ac« 
cording  to  the  following  rule,wUch 
he  deemed  infallible...that  the  lar^« 
er  a  book,  the  mpre  nonsense  it 
contained.  The  author  of  the 
work  before  us,  penetrated  no 
doubt  with  the  most  perfect  con^ 
viction  of  the  truth  of  the  opinion 
of  Callimachus,  has  taken  a  most 
commendable  precaution,  and  bj 
making  his  volume  of  a  Tery  xoodn 
erate  size,  discovered  great  defers 
enpe  for  the  opinion  of  the  pubUck. 
We  think  that  Dr.  Chandler 
deserves  no  common  praise  for 
making  the  life  of  Dr.  Johnson  tm 
consist  of  only  one  hundred  aini 
fifty-five  pages,  iipd  the  appendix^ 
containing  letters  to  Dr.  JohpsoQ 
fVom  bishop  Berkeley,  archbishop 
Seeker,  bishop  Lowth,  and  others, 
of  fifty-fthree  pages,  in  these  bad 
Umesy  when  the  literary  wor^ 
seems  to  he  threatened  with  beinff 
overwhelmed  by  the  number  anq 
imd  size  pf  th^  voluxxic;^  whi^( 


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tES8I«Kirt  JORKSOir. 


•9 


CondnQally  ifisue  ttom  the  press, 
called  lives,  mcmoirsy  the  corres- 
pondence, &c.  Sec.  of  men  and 
women,  boys  and  girls,  philoso- 
phers and  fools. 

The  object  of  modem  Uograph- 
ers  seems  to  be  only  to  make  of 
tbehr  heroes  giants-;  stretching 
them  out,  to  3ie  very  "  crack  ctf 
doom,"  over  an  insufferable  num- 
ber of  pages.  Such,  in  fact,  has 
been  the  daring  and  extensive  man- 
ii£u:ture  of  books  of  this  kind  in 
England,  and  such  the  alarming 
Vid  inordinate  consumption  of  pa- 
per, that  an  ingenious  mechanick, 
by  the  name  of  Neckingerf.  has 
lately  erected  a  mill  at  Camberweli 
fcr  the  refiroducdon  of  this  valuable 
article. 

Dr.  Samuel  Johnson  was  bom 
of  respectable  parents  at  Guilford, 
in  Connecticut,  the  14th  October, 
1696.  His  great-grand-father  Ro- 
bert, came  from  Kingston  upon 
Hull,  in  Yorkshire,  and  was  one  of 
the  first  settlers  of  New-Haven, 
f^ot  the  year  1637,  and  is  said  to 
have  been  of  the  same  &mily  with 
Johnson,  the  associate  of  Robert 
Brown,  the  father  of  the  Brown- 
ists.  Samuel  Johnson,  the  subject 
of  this  memoir,  early  discovered 
•o  unconquerable  desire  for  the 
acquisition  of  knowledge,  and  in 
ins  eleventh  year  wias  sent  to  the 
school  at  Guilford,  to  prepare  him* 
self  for  the  college  then  at  Say-« 
biook,  which  he  entered  at  four- 
teen, and  received  a  degree  of  ba- 
chelor of  luts  in  1714.  In  the 
succeeding  ^ear,  much  discontent 
waa«xdtcd  among  the  Scholars  at 
the  college  at  Saybrook,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  ignorance  and  total 
Incapacity  of  the  govemoors  to  ^ 
6>rd  them  any  useful  instruction, 
9nd  the  scholars,  in  rapid  succesr 
aon,abandonedthe  college,  Those, 
MoDging  to  the  towns  on  Connec** 
tim  river,  fissooiatod  imdcr  the  ^ 


rection  of  Messrs.  Woodbridgt 
and  Buckingham,  ministers  of 
Hartford,  who  were  trustees  of  the 
college,  and  who,  desirous  of  ob- 
taining a  removal  of  the  college 
from  Saybrook  to  Weathersfieldt 
in  their  own  neighbourhood,  in- 
duced Messrs.  Williams  and  Smith 
to  establish  a  collegiate  school  at 
Weathersfield,  to  which  the  young 
gentlemen,  above  alluded  to,  im* 
mediately  resorted.  Those,  who 
bdonged  to  the  towns  on  the  sea- 
shore, put  themselves  under  the 
tuition  of  Mr.  Johnson  at  Guilford. 
This  academical  schism  called  loud- 
ly for  legislative  interference,  and 
accordingly, when  the  general  court 
convened  in  October,  1716,  an  act 
was  passed  for  establishing  the  coU 
lege  in  New -Haven,  and  Mr.  John- 
son was  unanimously  chosen  one 
of  the  tutors,  where  he  resided  but 
a  short  time.  The  disaffection  of 
the  scholars  to  their  instmcters  at 
Saybrook,  their  consequent  disper- 
sion, the  dissentions  between  the 
two  parties  at  Weathersfield  and 
New-Haven,  which  occasioned  for 
some  time  much  disturbance  ia 
the  colony,  and  the  final  com-* 
promise,  which  ended  in  the  peace- 
ful establishment  of  the  college  at 
New»Haven,  are  minutely  detailed 
by  Dr.  Chandler,  and  constitute  an 
interesting  part  of  the  work  before 

We  have  thus  seen,  at  Saybrook, 
the  evils  (irising  in  consequence  of 
placing  boys  under  the  direction  of 
unskiU^l,ine£Kcient  instructers,  the 
rebellion  there  excited,  and  the 
<lis8olution  of  the  college.  Even  in 
our  days  we  experience  the  mourn- 
ful consequences  of  the  insufficien- 
cy of  the  system  of  education  a- 
dopted  in  the  much  boasted  schools, 
colleges,  and  academies  of  N.Eng- 
land. Our  school^masters,  pre- 
ceptors, and  tutors,  are  too  fre- 
4}uently  incompetent  to  discharge 


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94 


chandler's  life  Of 


their  important  duties,  fraught  with 
higfc  responsibility.  They  are  of- 
ten men  without  manners,  and 
without  learning  ;  who  need  "  put 
no  enemy  in  their  mouths  to  steal 
away  their  brains  ;"  who,  with  O- 
thello's  drunken  lieutenant,  will 
say,  thb  is  my  right  hand,  and  this 
is  my  left.  Deeply  impressed 
with  the  importance  of  some 
immediate  and  radical  change  in 
our  system  of  education,  particu- 
larly as  it  respects  the  instructers 
of  the  Latin  and  Greek  languages, 
at  our  academies  and  colleges,  we 
cannot,  on  this  subject,  here  omit 
inserting  the  declarations  of  Gil- 
bert Wakefield,  whose  observations 
apply  >vlth  ten  fold  more  forpe  to 
this  country,  than  to  England  ; 
most  sincerely  wishing,  that  the 
opinions  of  a  man,  so  distinguish- 
ed for  science  and  classical  learn- 
ing, may  have  9ome  effect  upon 
our  men  of  wealth  «nd  influence, 
and  persuade  them  to  offer  such 
aalaries  to  teachers  of  youth  as 
shall  induce  men  of  understanding 
and  learning,  to  undertake  what  at 
best  must  be  an  ungracious  task. 

« I  cannot  but  lament  that  inun^ 
dation  of  dreadful  evils,  which  are 
let  in  Upon  society  by  the  tribe  of 
unprincipled,  or  ineffective  schools 
masters.  The  majority  of  young 
Tnen,  who  go  to  college  after  fin- 
ishing their  education  at  school, 
scarcely  know,  with  tolerable  ac- 
curacy, even  the  first  rudiments  of 
the  languages. 

^<  Can  imagination  represent  to 
herself  a  more  melancholy  case, 
than  that  of  an  ingenuous,  enters- 
prising  youth,  wasting  his  time  and 
blasting  his  hopes,  in  a  seminary 
of  one  of  those  ignorant,  heedless, 
insipid  teachers,  with  which  the 
kingdom  is  overrun  ?  *  I  have 
kept  my  son,'  said  the  mayor  of 
one  of  the  first  towns  in  this  king- 
dpw,  <  six  or  seven  years  with  thjs 


feilow  K— ,  learning  Latin  and 
Greek  all  this  time  ;  and,  now  he 
is  come  home,  I  find  him  unable 
to  construe  a  prescription,  or  ex- 
plain the*  inscriptions  of  the  galli* 
pots.*  In  my  humble  opinion  this 
enormous  usurpation  of  stupidity 
and  impudence  ought  to  be  made 
a  national  concern. 

«  To  suffer  the  rising  generation 
to  be  thus  abused  beyond  all  recov- 
ery from  any  future  process,  what 
is  it  but  to  blot  the  afiring  from  the 
year  ?  For  my  own  part,  I  look 
upon  the  generality  of  these  pre- 
ceptors as  robbera  of  hofie  and  o/r- 
/lortufttty,  those  blessings  for  which 
no  compensation  can  be  made.  I 
cherish  liberty,  I  think,  with  a 
warmth  of  attachment  inferiour  to 
no  man  ;  but  I  should  rejoice  to 
see,  I  confess, '^some  restiictions  in 
the  cfwe  before  us.  Men  of  ac- 
knowledged qualifications  should 
be  appointed  to  examine,  with  a 
scrupulous  and  conscientious  ac* 
curacy,  the  competency  of  all  those 
who  undertake  the  teaching  of  the 
learned  languages;  and  none  should 
be  allowed  to  exercise  this  arduous 
office,  but  those  who  could  endure 
thcjiery  trial.  Society  would  be 
benefited  beyond  measure,  and  no 
real  injury  be  done  to  the  individ«> 
ual .  Men  should  leam^ov  be  taught^ 
the  knowledge  of  themselves ;  nor 
should  he  aspire  to  adorn  the  mind, 
who  is  fit  only  to  trim  a  periwig  ; 
or,  in  the  vain  attempt  of  acquir* 
ing  science,  leave  uncultivated  the 
capabilities  of  a  commendable  shoe* 
maker, 
AU  quit  tlidr  iphere,  and  rash  (nto  the  tklei.* 
In  March,  1720,  Mr.  Johnson 
was  ordained  as  a  congregational 
minister  at  West-Haven,  in  the 
twenty-fourth  year  of  his  age. 
From  early  life,  even  while  at  col- 
lege, he  had  been  opposed  to  ex- 
tempore prayer.  He  had  also  an 
early  dislike  to  the  independent  or 


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FmESIDEKT   jOHKSaW. 


95 


congregational  form  of  church  gov- 
ernment. In  the  prosecution  of 
his  studies,  he  very  soon  began  to 
doubt  the  validity  of  presbyterian 
ordination,  avowed  his  perfect  con- 
Tersioa  to  episcopacy,  and  declar- 
ed that  he  could  hnd  no  way  of  re- 
conciling his  conscience,  while  he 
neglected  the  practices  of  the  an- 
cient church.  He  accordingly 
took  an  affectionate  farewcl  of  his 
people  at  West-Haven,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  Boston,  in  company  with 
Messrs.  Cutler  and  Brown,  the 
former  president,  and  the  latter 
tutor, of  New-Haven  college  ;  both 
of  whom  had  also  been  converted  to 
episcopacy , proposing  to  embark  for 
l^Dgland  to  obtain  holy  orders  in 
the  church,  where  they  arrived  on 
the  15th  of  December,  1722  ; 
whence  they  immediately  proceed- 
ed to  Liondon,  and  were  politely 
received  by  Dr.  Robinson,  the 
bishop  of  London,  and  the  society 
for  pix)pagating  the  gospel.  Mr. 
CuUer  was  ordained  to  take  charge 
of  the  new  church  in  Boston,  and 
Mr.  Johnson  to  take  care  of  the 
church  at  Stratford  in  Connecticut. 
The  former  also  received  from 
the  colleges  of  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge the  honours  of  a  degree  of 
Dr.  in  divinity,  and  Mr.  Johnson 
of  master  of  arts.  Having  taken 
leave  of  their  friends,  they  em- 
barked for  America  in  July,  1723, 
and  Mr.  Johnson  arrived  at  Strat- 
ford to  take  charge  of  his  little 
flock,  consisting  of  about  twenty 
families,  by  whom  he  was  joyfully 
received. 

Mr.  Johnson^'s  conversion  to  the 
episcopal  church  ;  the  particular 
books  which  he  read,  which  assist- 
ed to  promote  that  conversion  ; 
the  commotion  that  in  consequence 
was  excited  in  the  colony  of  Con- 
necticut ;  the  conference  with  the 
trustees  of  the  college,  and  Gov- 
croour  Sahonstall)  Sec.  Sec.  are  all 


amply  detailed  by  Dr.  Chandler^ 
and  include  many  *  traits,  which 
must  afford  interest  and  amuse^* 
inent  to  the  lovers  of  ecclesiastical 
history. 

In  the  month  of  February,  1729, 
Dr.  Berkeley,  then  dean  of  Deny 
in  Ireknd,  arrived  in  America,  and 
resided  two  years  and  an  half  in 
Rhode-Island.  «  As  his  coming 
to  America,  (says  Dr.  Chandler) 
had  an  important  effect  upon  the 
religion  and  learning  of  the  coun-' 
try  ;  and  as  Dr.  Johnson  always 
considered  the  period  in  which 
bishop  Berkeley  resided  in  this 
country  as  one  of  the  most  inter- 
esting periods  of  his  life,  it  may 
not  be  amiss  to  give  a  nu>re  par- 
ticular account  of  that  extraordin- 
ary person,  and  of  the  business 
that  brought  him  hither,  than  has 
probably  been  laid  before  the  .^- 
mcrican  reader  in  one  view." 

On  comparing  the  sketch  of  the 
life  of  Bishop  Berkeley  in  the  work 
before  us,  with  the  life  in  Dr.  Ai- 
km's  general  biography,  we  find  it 
to  be  generally  correct,  though  the 
latter  is  more  full  and  satisfactory  ; 
but  wherever  we  are  made  ac- 
quainted with  the  life  of  this  cel- 
ebrated gentleman  and  scholar,  we 
are  most  profoundly  impressed 
with  the  highest  admirati<Sn  of  the 
disinterestedness  of  his  character, 
cif  his  learning,  his  christian  char- 
ity,his  discernment,  and  patriotism* 

At  the  period  of  Mr.  Johnson's 
conversion  to  episcopacy,  the 
church  of  England  had  scarcely 
any  existence  in  Connecticut.There 
were  thirty  families  at  Stratford, 
chiefly  from  England,  under  the 
care  of  Mr.  Pigot,  the  intimate 
friend  of  Dr.  Johnson,  and  who  no 
doubt  was  very  instrumental  in 
producing  his  conversion.  Mr. 
Johnson,  while  minister  at  Strat- 
ford, frequently  made  excursions 
into  the  neighboring  towns,  and 


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eiCAirDLBR^^  lift  tf 


jireached  with  peculiar  success  ; 
the  episcopal  church  making  very 
irisible  progress  in  Connecticut  ; 
and  in  the  year  1736,  upon  inqui<> 
ry,  there  were  found  to  be  no  less 
than  seven  hundred  farnilies  In  the 
colony.  Great  acquisitions  were 
afterwards  made  to  the  church  by 
the  wild  enthusiasm  intfodiitea  by 
Mr.  Whitfield,  and  propagated  by 
his  followers*  Mr.  Johnson  pub" 
Kshed  tracts,  in  defence  of  the 
church,  which  involved  him  in 
tnuch  controversy  ,particularly  with 
Mr.  Dickenson  of  Elizabethtown, 
in  New-Jersey,  and  Mr.  Foxcroft 
of  Boston.  These  controversies 
reach  down  to  173(^  and  are  de- 
tailed at  much  length  by  Dr. 
Chandler.  These  publications 
Were  much  approved  of  in  Eng- 
land, and  obtained  for  Mr.  John- 
son, in  1 743,  from  the  university  of 
Oxford  a  degree  qf  Doctor  in  di» 
vudty. 

Dr.  Johnson  had  two  sons,  who 
Were  educated  at  Yale  college,  for 
whom  he  composed  a  compendi- 
um of  logick,  including  metaphys- 
icks,  and  another  of  ethieks,  for 
their  better  instruction  in  these 
studies  ;  which  Were  piinled  to-* 
gether,  in  an  octavo  volume  by 
Dr.  Franklin,  for  the  use  of  the 
college  in  that  city^  then  about  to 
be  erected,  and  of  which  Mr^ 
Franklin  was  one  of  the  most  ac-* 
tive  promoters. 

In  1734  the  trustees  of  Ncw- 
Tork  college  unanimously  elected 
t)r.  Johnson  president,  who  accept** 
ed,  but  with  great  reluctance.  For 
the  history  of  the  establishment  of 
the  college,  in  the  city  of  New- 
York,  whose  charter  was  granted 
fai  October,  1754  ;  the  violent  ex- 
position which  arose  among  the 
trustees,  respecting  what  denom- 
ination of  christians  ahould  pre- 
dominate in  the  government  and 
immediate  direction  Qf  the  college ; 
the  violent  clamour  in  consequence 


excited  in  the  province  and  leg^!^ 
lature  of  New-York  ;  the  vigorous 
exertions  made  by  Mr.  Johnsan  to 

Eromote  the  interests  of  the  sem** 
lary  ;  the  benefactions  it  receiv- 
ed, &c.  &c.  we  refer  our  readers  to 
the  work  itself. 

In  1763  Dr.  Johnson  resigned 
the  office  of  president,  and  Vent  to 
his  peacefbl  retreat  at  Stratford, 
whcte  he  passed  the  remainder 
of  his  days  >  not  however  in  in- 
glorious ease*  He  resumed  the 
charge  of  his  old  mission,  and  was 
again  kindly  received  by  the  peo-« 
pie  of  Stratford  in  character  of 
their  minister,  in  1764,  upwards 
of  forty  years  after  he  had  first  en-* 
tered  into  this  relation  with  them. 
He  entered  into  the  controversy 
between  the  Rev.  Mr.  Apthorp  and 
Dr.  MayheW,  on  the  subject  of  m 
American  episcopate,  and  wrote  a 
short  vindication  of  the  society  fot 
propagating  the  gospel.  "  On  the 
morning  of  January  6,  1722,  the 
most  glorious  epiphany  he  ever 
beheld,  he  conversed  with  his  fam- 
ily on  the  subject  of  his  own  deathf 
with  the  greatest  cheerfulness  and 
serenity^  He  expressed  his  wish- 
es that  he  might  resemble,  in  the 
manner  of  his  death,  his  good 
friend  the  bishop  Berkeley,  whon^ 
he  had  greatly  loved^  and  whoso 
exit  he  had  ever  esteemed  happy^ 
Heaven  granted  his  wish  ;  for  sqpn 
after  he  had  uttered  tliese  wordsy 
Uke  the  good  bishop,  he  instant 
taneously  expired  in  his  chair^ith- 
out  the  least  struggle  or  groan  ; 
so  tliat  he  tnay  rather  be  said  tct 
have  been  changed  or  translated^ 
than  to  have  died.*^  Two  days  af- 
ter, his  remains  were  interred  in 
the  chancel  of  Christ  church,  Strat- 
ford, where  a  handsome  monu- 
ment has  been  erected  to  his  mem- 
ory. 

Thus  lived,  and  thus  died,  a 
man,  the  narrative  of  whose  lifb 
involves  much  interesting  ancc*^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


IPRESIDEITT  JOHNSOir. 


97 


dote  ;  who  was  respectable  for  Iiis 
understanding  and   his    learning, 
and  still  more  pre-eminent  for  su- 
avity of  manners,  and  the  benevo- 
lence of  his  heart.     The  great  Ra- 
dne,  the  father  of  the  French  dra- 
roa,  after  having  exalted  the  glory 
6f  his  genius  to  the  utmost  limits 
allotted  to  humanity,  regretted,  at 
the  age  of  thirty-eight  years,  that 
he  had  done  every  thing  for  the 
World,  and  nothing  for  his  God. 
Czsar,  at  the  same  age,  lamented, 
on  the  tomb  of  Alexander,  that  he 
had  yet  done  nothing  to  secure  to 
bimself    durable  renown.      This 
passion  for  human  glory  conduct- 
ed the  conqueror  of  Pompey  to  ac- 
tions which  should  be  disdained  by 
a  noble  heart,  and  it  was,  on  the 
contrary,  at  an  advanced  age,  by 
^tempt  of  glory,  that  the  author 
of  Andromaque  elevated  Racine  a- 
bove  himself.    Very  different  from 
these  men  was  the  character  of 
Dr.  Johnson.     His  whole  life  was 
active,  vigilant,  and  efficient  in  the 
service  of  his  Maker  ;   in  magni- 
fying the  holy  office  of  a  clergy- 
nun  ;   in  reclaiming  the  vicious  ; 
m  quickening,  to  a  sense  of  their 
ooty,  the  negligent  and  careless  ; 
in  influencing  the  ignorant  ;    in 
•trengthening  and  confirming  the 
serious  and  religious  ;    in  visiting 
the  sick,  feeding  the  hungry,  and 
<^oathing  the  naked.     Private  vir- 
tues  arc  the  more  sublime,  as  they 
4)  not  aspire  to  the  approbation  of 
others,  but  only  to  the  testimony 
of  onc*s  own  conscience  ;   and  the 
conscience  of  a  good  man  is  of 
aorc  ralue  to  himself,  tlian  the 
praisci  of  the  universe. 

As  we  have  already  protracted 
wr  review  to  an  immoderate 
taigth,  we  will  only  give  the  fol- 
lowing extract  from  our  author  as 
» favourable  specimen  of  his  style 
■od  manner. 

Vol.  HI.  No.  3.     N 


While  the  Dean  refided  tt  Rhoif-IJUnd, 
he  compofed  his  Aldplrony  or  Minute  Pbi^ 
lifopber  ;  written  by  way  of  dialogue,  in 
the  manner   of  Plato.    The  defigo  of 
it  was  t«  vindicate  the  Chnftian  religion, 
vti  anfwer  to  the  various  objections  and 
cavils  of  atheifts,  libertines,   enthufiafts, 
fcoroers,  criticks,  metaphyficians,  fataliftj, 
9Xidfceptuh.      In  the  advertifement  prefixed 
to  ihefe  dialogues,  the  author  aflSrms,  that 
he  was  **  well  aifured  one  of  the  moft  no* 
ted  writers  againft  Chriilianity  had  de« 
dared,  he  had  found  out  a  demonfiratkm 
againft    the  being   of   a    God.**       Mr. 
Johnson,   in  one   of  his  vifits  to    the 
Dean,  converting  with  him  on  the  fubjedk 
of  the  work  then  in  hand,  was  more  par- 
ticularly informed  by  him— that  he  him- 
felf  (the  Dean)  had  heard  this  ftrange  de- 
claration, while  he  was  prefent  in  one  of 
the  deifi'ual  dubs ^  in  the  pretended  charac^ 
ter  of  a  learner — that  Collins  was  tha 
roan  who  made  it — and  that  the  JanorJlra» 
tiom  was  what  he  afterwards  publifhed,  in 
an  attempt  to  prove  that  every  adlion  \% 
the  effeQ  of  fate  and  necejjltyy  in  his  book  en- 
titled,   A  Fbilofopbical    Inquiry    concerning 
Human  Liberty,     And,  indeed,  could  the 
*  point  be  onceeftabliflied,  that  every  thing 
is  produced  by  fate  and  necenity,it  would 
naturalljr  follow,  that  there  is  no  God,  or 
that  he  is  a  very  ufelefs  and  infignificanc 
being,  which  amounts  to  the  fame  thing. 
As  this  ftrange  anecdote  deferves  to  be 
inore  generally  known,  a  place  is  given 
it  in  this  memoir. 

When  the  Dean  was  about  leaving 
America^  Mr.  JoMNsoN  made  him  his 
final  vilit.  As  he  retained  a  ftrong  affec- 
tion for  Yale  College^  the  feminary  \xk 
which  he  was  educated,  and  N^rith  which 
he  had  been  otherwife  conne^ed,  he  took 
the  liberty,  on  this  occafion,  to  recom- 
mend it  to  the  Dean's  notice ;  hoping  that 
he  might  think  proper  to  fend  it  fome 
books,  and  not  expe^ing,  or  aiming  at 
any  thing  further.  But  within  two  yeare 
from  that  lime.  Dr.  Bbrkblkv,  aOia-d 
by  fcveral  gentlemen  who  had  fubfcribcd 
money  for  Ins  intended  college  at  Bermuda^ 
fent  over  a  valuable  colle^ftion  of  books, 
as  a  prefent  to  Yale  College.  It  amounted, 
including  what  he  had  given  before,  to 
near  one  thoufand  volumes,  of  which  tvf 
hundred  And  fxty  vrere  in  folio,  and  very 
large.  The  coft  of  this  colle<ilion  could 
have  been  little  lefs  ih^wfve  hundred  pounds 
ferlincr.  At  or  about  the  fame  time  he 
tranfmitted  to  Mr.  Johnson  a  deed,  tn 
which  b«  coi»vcy«d  to  that  m)kQg»  1^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


98 


THE   FIRST  SETTLERS   OF   VIRGINIA  f 


fnrtn  in  Rhode- T/hndjCon^ding  of  nitrety 
fix  acre?.  The  annual  intereft  of  it  was 
to  be  divided  betweea  three  bachelors  of 
arts,  who,  upon  examination  bv  the  redl- 
or  of  the  coirege,  and  a  minifter  of  the 
Church  of  England,  (hould  appear  to  be 
the  beft  clujpiol  fcbotars ;  provided  they 
would  refide  at  college  the  three  years 
betweea  their  bachelor's  and  mafler's  de- 
grees, in  the  profeciuion  of  their  ftudies; 
and  ttie  forfeitures,  in  cafe  of  non-refid- 
ence,  were  to  be  given  in  premiums  of 
books,  to  thofe  that  performed  the  bcft 
cxercifes. 


ART.    6. 

The  first  settlers  of  Virginia^  an 
,  historiccd  norvcly  exhibiting  a  view 
of  the  rise  and  ftrogress  of  the 
colony  at  James  Tovm^  a  picture 
of  Indian  mannersy  the  counte- 
nance of  the  country^  and  its  na- 
tural  productions.  The  second 
edition^  considerably  efilarged. 
New- York.  Printed  for  I.  Riley 
8c  Co.    1806.    /i/i.  28i. 

Novels,  which  are  founded  on 
historical  incidents,  are  little  a- 
dapted  to  interest  the  attention  and 
affect  the  imap;ination,  from  the 
recollection,  which  will  mtrude  in- 
to the  mind,  of  the  real  extent  of 
the  facts,  and  the  consequent  con- 
viction, which  will  be  induced,  that 
the  rest  is  fiction.  But  any  one, 
who  is  acquainted  with  the  early 
historv  of  Virginia,  will  not  only 
feel  this  embarrassment,  while 
reading  the  novel  before  us,  but 
will  often  be  disappointed  by  the 
pecollection  of  having  before  read 
the  same  events,  narrated  in  pre- 
cisely the  same  language* 

In  a  historical  novel  we  look  for 
historical  facts,  as  the  basis  of  the 
story  ;  btrt  we  know  not  by  what 
right  an  author  avails  himself  of 
the  labours  of  others  in  this  more 
than  in  any  other  kind  of  compo- 
Mtidh,  wilh^ut  acknowledging  his 
•bligatsons.  Near  the  ^lose  of  his 


book,  Mr.  Davis  *  refers  his  read- 
ers to  Smith,  Purchas,  and  others. 
How  far  he  is  indebted  to  themy 
not  only  for  incidents,  but  for  par- 
agraphs and  pagesy  we  cannot  as- 
sert ;  but  by  the  evidences  of 
plagiarism,  which  we  will  adduce^ 
we  cannot  repress  the  suspicion, 
that  it  is  greater  than  u  can 
prove.  We  will  present  our  rea- 
ders with  a  few.  extracts  from  the 
life  of  Smith,  in  Belknap's  «  A- 
merican  Biography,"  and  direct 
them  to  the  pa;^'es  of  "  The  first 
settlers  of  Virginia,**  in  which  they 
are  generally  copied  verbatim. 

-  Proceeding  np  tbe  fircr,  another 
company  of  Indians  appeared  in^  arsit*^ 
Their  chief,  Apamatica,  holding  in  on» 
hand  his  bow  and  arrow,  and  in  the  oth- 
tr  a  pipe  of  tobacco,  demanded  the  caufc 
ef  their  coming ;  they  made  figns  of 
peace,  and  were  hofpitably  recoved.** 
Amir.   Stog,  p.  2a^.^£irjl  StitUri.  p.  \^ 

The  paragraph  following  this 
in  the  novel  is  a  little  varied  fr«m 
the  Biography. 

««  They  proceeded  down  the  river  i9 
Kecoughtan,  where  the  natives,  know- 
ing the  needy  state  of  the  colony,  treat- 
ed them  with  contempt,  offering  an  ear 
•f  corn  in  exchange  for  a  muiket,  or  a 
fword."  Amer.  Biog, p,  26i.^J^irfi  5<K 
Ifcrj,/.  21. 

The  five  paragraphs  which  sue- 
ced  this  in  the  novel,  are  a  little 
varied  from  the  Biography. 

Compare  p.  265  of  the  Biogra- 
phy, "  The  Indians  astonished,*' 
he.  with  pages  26,  and  27  of  the 
novel. 

•«  Powhatan  the«  fct  fach-  a  price  om 
his  com,  that  not  more  than  four  bufli- 
els  could  be  procured  ;  and  the  necefl»' 
ry  fupi^ies  could  not  have  been  had,  if 
Smith's  genius,  ever  ready  at  invention, 
had  not  hit  on  an  artifice  which  proTed 
Cuccefsful.  We  had  fccreted  fome  triflet, 
and  among  them  a  parcel  of  Um  Umdt^ 

♦  Wc  Icarii  the  name  of  the  author  from  tht 
extracts  from  reviews,  md  ftoflitlle  Idttat  pr 

i&td  te  tlie  iwvcU 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


AN   HISTORICAL    NOTEL, 


9^ 


which,  feeraingly  in  a  carelefs  way,  he 
glanced  in  the  eyes  of  Powhatan.  The 
bait  canght  him»  and  he  earaeftly  deHr- 
cd  to  purchafe  them.  Smith,  in  his  turn, 
xaifed  the  value  of  them,  extolling  ihem 
as  the  moft  precioui  jewels,  refembling 
the  colour  of  the  flcy,  and  proper  only 
for  the  nobled  fovereigns  of  the  uni- 
▼erfe.  Powhaun's  imagination  was  all 
an  fire  ;  he  made  large  offers.  Smith 
infided  oa  more,  and  at  length  fuffered 
kimfelf  to  be  perfuaded  to  take  between 
two  and  three  hundred  buflieU  of  com, 
for  about  two  pounds  of  blue  beads.** — 
Amer.  Bicg.  fp,n^5,  Ftrfi  SettUrt, pp, 
62-3. 

««  Having  finiflied  the  neceffary  buE- 
nefe  of  the  feafon,  and  dif patched  the 
iitop,  another  voyage  of  difcovery  was 
undertaken  by  Capt.  Smith  and  fourteen 
others.  They  went  down  the  river  in 
an  open  barge,  in  company  with  the 
Chip,  and  having  parted  with  her  at 
Cape  Henry,  they  crofled  the  mouth  of 
the  bay,  and  fell  in  with  a  clufler  of 
iflands  without  Cape  Charles,  to  which 
they  gave  the  name  of  Smith*s  Ifles, 
which  they  ftill  bear."  Blog,  p.  277.  Firfl 
Stttiert,  p,  63. 

«  Smith  having  ftuck  his  fword  into 
a  ftingray,  the  fi(h  raifed  its  tail,  and  with 
Its  (harp  indented  thorn,  wounded  him 
in  the  arm.  The  wound  was  extremely 
painful,  and  he  prefently  fwelled  to  that 
degree,  that  they  expe^ed  him  to  die, 
and  he  himfelf  gave  them  orders  to  bury 
him  on  a  neighbouring  ifland.  But  the 
fargeon  fo  allayed  the  anguifli  and  fwell- 
ing,  that  Smith  was  able  to  eat  part  of 
the  fifli  for  his  fupper.  From  this  oc- 
currence, the  place  was  di(Hnguiihed  by 
fhe  name  of  Stingray-Point,  which  it  ftill 
bears.**  Bieg.pp.  279-80.  Flrjl  SettUn^ 
^65. 

••  AU  things  being  prepared  for  the 
ceremony  of  coronation,  the  prefent  was 
brought  from  the  boats  ;  the  bafon  and 
ewer  were  depofited,  the  bed  and  chair 
were  iet  up,  the  fcarlet  fuit  and  cloak 
were  put  on,  though  not  till  Namonuc 
had  aifured  him  that  thefe  habiliments 
would  do  him  no  harm  ;  but  they  had 
great  difficulty  in  perfuading  him  to  re- 
ceive the  crown,  nor  would  he  bend  hit 
knee,  or  incline  his  head  in  the  leaft  de- 
gree. After  many  attempts,  and  with 
adhial  preffing  on  ^s  {boulders,  they  at 
laft  made  him  ftoop  a  little,  and  put  it 
on.  Inftantly,  a  fignal  being  given,  the 
men  in  the  boats  fired  a  volley,  at  which 
Ihe  fflooarch  (brted  with  horrour,  ix»- 


aginmg  that  a  defig^  was  forming  to  de* 
ftroy  him  in  the  fummit  of  his  glory  j 
but  being  aHured  that  it  was  meant  as  a 
compliment,  his  fear  fubdded,  and  in  re- 
turn for  ih^  baubles  of  royalty  received 
from  King  James,  he  dedred  Newport  to 
prefent  him  his  old  fur  mantle  and  deer 
flcin  ihocs.*'  Biog.  pp.  286-7.  Firfi  Set- 
tiers,  pp,  74-5. 

«*  The  Aipplies  procured  by  trading 
being  infufficient,  and  hunger  very  preff- 
ing.  Smith  ventured  on  the  dangerous 
project  of  furprifing  Powhatan,  and  car- 
rying off  his  whole  ftock  of  provifions. 
This  Indian  prince  had  formed  a  iimilar 
deiign  refpc^ng  Smith  ;  and  for  the 
purpofe  of  betraying  him,  had  invited 
him  to  his  feat,  promifing  that  if  he 
would  fend  men  to  build  him  a  houfe, 
after  the  Englifli  mode,  and  give  him 
fome  gfuns  and  fwordt,  copper  and  beads 
he  would  load  his  boat  with  com.** 
BHg>  /.  292.    Firfi  Setilerstp.  77. 

But  excepting"  the  sentiments 
excited  by  observing  so  many 
unaccountable  instances  of  unac- 
knowledged transcription,  we  con- 
fess that  we  have  perused  this 
novel  with  pleasure.  Many  parts 
of  it,  for  which  we  are  exclusive- 
ly indebted  to  Mr.  Davis,  are  high- 
ly ingenious  ;  and  if  he  had  add- 
ed a  few  prefatory  remarks  ex- 
pr«ssing  his  frequent  obligations 
to  others,  not  only  for  incidents, 
but  for  many  of  the  paragraphs, 
in  which  they  are  narrated,  we 
might,  with  the  exception  of  a 
few  passages,  have  given  it  our 
entire  approbation. 

To  the  novel  is  affixed  a  pom- 
pous «  memoir  of  the  author,"  the 
pcinisal  of  which  has  probably  fuiv 
nished  to  him  far  higher  gratificar 
tion,  than  it  will  give  to  any  of  its 
readers. 

We  cannot  quote  any  part  of 
'the  story,  but  in  justice  to  Mr. 
Davis,  and  to  give  our  readers  a 
specimen  of  his  style,  we  will  sub- 
join a  few  extracts,  which  will  lose 
nothing  in  being  detached  from 
•  the  work. 

The  party  encamped  at  evening, 
rottod  a  cyprefs,  which  invited  them  t» 


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!()• 


sliot's  ordination  servon. 


repofe,  after  the  fatigue  of  their  march. 
The  cyprcCi  i»  in  the  firft  order  of  A- 
mericaa  trees.  Its  majeflick  (lature,  the 
(Uteiinef»  of  its  trunk,  lifting  its  cum- 
brous branches  towards  the  ikies,  the  deli- 
cacy of  its  colour,  and  the  texture  of  its 
leaves,  fill  the  mind  with  raiugled  emo- 
tions of  pleafure  and  of  awe.  From  its 
mighty  branches  hang  (^reamers  of  long 
mo5,  which  float  in  the  wind  ;  and  o^ 
its  lofty  top  the  eagle  builds  his  neft,and 
the  ftork  finds  a  reeling  place.  /.  53. 

The  roocking-btrd  is  the  fweeteft 
i^orifter  of  the  feathered  race,  without 
excepting  even  the  nightingale.  While 
it  pofTe&s  the  power  of  imitating  the 
notes  of  other  bird*,  it  equals  that  charm- 
ing fongfter  in  the  peculiar  melody  of 
its  own  drain. 

But  the  mocking  bird  mingles  a^on 
with  its  fong,  and  its  meafured  move- 
menu  accompany  and  expreft  the  fuc- 
ceifion  of  its  emotions.  Its  prelude  is 
to  rife  flowly,  with  expanded  wings,  and 
foon  fink  back  to  the  lame  fpot,  iu  head 
hanging  downwards.  Its  adUon  now 
correfponds  with  the  varied  nature  of  its 
mufick.  If  the  notes  are  briik  and  lively^ 
it  defcribes  in  the  air  a  number  of  cir- 
cles, eroding  each  other  ;  or  it  afcends 
and  defcendi  continually  iq  a  fpiral  line. 
If  they  are  loud  and  rapid,  it  with  equal 
briiknefs  flaps  its  wings.  Is  its  fong  un- 
equal ?  It  flutters,  it  bounds.  Do  its 
tones  fpften  by  degrees,  melt  into  tender 
drains,  and  die  away  in  a  paufe,  more 
charming  than  the  fweeted  muQck  ?  It 
^ntly  diminidies  its  acftion,  glides 
fipoothly  above  its  reding  place,  till  the 
wavings  of  its  wings  begin  to  be  imper- 
ceptible, at  lad  ceafe,  and  the  bird  re- 
inains  fufpended  and  motionleis  itt  the 
•ir."  /y.  54-5. 

ART.  7. 
p4  %ermon  preached  in  Prcrvidencej 
at  the  ordination  of  Prv.  Henry 
Edea^  J.  M.  July  17,  A,  D. 
1805.  By  John  £i'io%  I),  D,  /)«/»- 
tor  qf  the  Mw  jVorth  Church, 
Boston. 

Vh\  autem  saplenHa  cum  rellglone  Inteparablll 
iicxa  coheerct,  utrumqae  verutn  ease  sccaae 
cat ;  quia  et  in  coleiido  aapcre  debemua,  Id 
car  ftcirc,  quid  nobbi  et  auomode  sit  colendum« 
et  in  Mpiendo  colere,  id  eat  re  et  actu,  quod 
kierlmua,  inplere. 

Laet,  de  vera  salient,  tap,  3^ 

Prpvidencc,     Carter,    pfu  40. 


Ordination  discourses  seldoa^ 
fail  to  interest  the  hearers  for 
whose  particular  benefit  they  are 
intended.  The  occasion  naturally 
leads  them  to  recur  to  past 
scenes,  to  recollect  past  instruc- 
tions, and  to  view  with  anxiety 
and  hope  their  opening  prospects. 
There  is  indeed  a  combination  of 
circumstances  favourable  t^  both 
the  eloquence  of  the  speaker  an4 
the  feeUngs  of  the  auditory.  The 
sermon,  however,  which  is  the 
subjept  of  our  present  remarks,  in- 
dependently of  time,  place,  and 
incident,  is  an  excellent  perform- 
ance. It  is  judicious  and  appro- 
priate :  rich  in  sentiment  ;  brii^* 
liant  in  remaik  ;  serious  and  evan- 
gelical. Yet  it  is  not  faultless. 
The  learning  of  its  author  is 
sometimes  unnecessarily  display- 
ed. Its  method  is  not,  as  it  ought 
to  be,  so  lucid,  as  to  be  plainly 
perceived  by  the  careful  hearer 
without  the  aid  of  either  promise 
or  recapitulation.  Its  transitions 
are  not  easy  ;  iu  wit  is  obnoxious 
to  misapprehension,  and  therefore 
may  possibly  exasperate  :  and 
some  of  its  similies  are  so  confus- 
ed and  so  trite,  as  to  serve  neither 
for  illustration  nor  embellishment ; 
for  then  only,  when  sparingly  and 
aptly  used,  are  rhetorical  figures 
'<  like  apples  of  g^ld  in  baskets  of 
silver." 

The  sermon  is  founded  on  Luke 
X.  18.  Afler  some  general  rq- 
roarks,  explanatory  of  the  text,  Dr. 
£.  tracesihe  progress  of  Christian- 
ity in  the  world.  He  then  ably 
describes  the  duty  of  its  preach- 
ers, and  indicates  the  various 
meaps  by  which  their  mission 
may  be  most  success^lly  accom- 
plished. With  pointed  satire  and 
with  holy  zeal  he  combats  the 
sneers  and  doublings  of  the  unbe- 
liever on  the  one  hand  ;  and  on 
the  other  he  forcibly  descants  ujk 


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LATHROP'S   DISCOUHS*. 


101 


•n  the  injuries,  which  pure  Chris- 
tianity sustains  from  the  false  fer- 
Tours  of  ignorant  and  fanatical  ex- 
horters,  who  mar  the  beauty  of 
rtlig^on,  who  clothe  that  angel  of 
peace  in  a  demon's  dress,  and  un- 
der the  pretence  of  piety  seek  on- 
ly a  support  in  their  idleness,  and 
a  cloak  for  those  disorders  of 
which  they  are  the  occasion. 
After  exposing  these  opposite 
evils,  and  showing  them  to  be  ex- 
tremely injurious  to  the  progress 
of  undefiled  religion,  he  concludes 
▼ith  the  usual  addresses  to  the 
candidate  and  the  church.  To 
the  first  he  is  affectionate,  to  the 
last  respectful. 

The  charge  by  Rev.  Dr.  La- 
throp  is  paternal  and  instructive  ; 
and  the  right  hand  of  fellowship 
by  Rev.  l3r.  Kirkland  contains 
hints  on  the  exercise  and  display 
of  christian  charity,  on  which 
christians  of  every  name  would 
do  well  to  meditate. 

ART.  8. 

A  dUcourte^  delivered  at  Sftring^ 
Jield^  Oct.  30,  1805.  On  occasion 
of  the  completion  and  ofiening  of 
the  great  bridge  over  Connecti^ 
cut  river^  betivcen  the  towns  of 
Sfiringfield  andlVest^S/iringJieid. 
By  Joseph  Lathropj  D,  D.  pastor 
of  the  church  in  West -Spring Jield. 
2d  edition,  Springfield,  (Mas.) 
H.  Brewer,    pp.  16. 

The  first  object  of  this  discourse 
is  to  exhibit  the  wisdom  and  be- 
nevolence of  God  in  adapting  the 
earth  to  the  habitance  of  men. 
The  author  then  shows  it  to  have 
b«;n  the  design  of  the  Deity,  not- 
withstandmg  what  is  done  for  us, 
that  we  should  do  something  for 
ourselves.  He  lastly  very  happi- 
ly uses  the  occasion  for  suggest- 
ing several  reflexions  of  immense 
importance.     He    refreshes    the 


mind  with  proofs  of  God*s  exist- 
ence. He  displays  the  nature  and 
duties  of  civil  society.  He  shows 
the  superiority  of  civilized  to  sav- 
age life.  He  remarks  upon  the 
necessity  of  subordination,  labour, 
and  union  in  a  community,  and  of 
a  firm  and  stead]^  government  to 
the  prosperity  of  a  people.  He 
speaks  of  the  advantages  of  divine 
revelation,  and  closes  with  a  strik- 
ing summary  of  the  a  priori  argu- 
ments in  favour  of  a  future  state. 

Dr.  Lathrop  is  a  w liter  who  is 
always  filled  with  his  subject,  anrf 
who  gives  to  every  subject  he 
touches  a  high  degree  of  interest. 
His  style  is  simple,  perspicuous, 
and  forcible.  He  communicates 
much  matter  in  an  easy  manner, 
and  performs  more  than  he  prem- 
iss. We  regret  that  so  good  a 
sermon,  as  the  one  we  have  des- 
cribed, should  not  be  impressed 
on  better  paper  and  with  a  better 
type,  and  that  its  punctuation  and 
orthography  should  be  sadly  im- 
perfect. 

ART.  9. 
A  discourse  delivered  before  the 
members  of  the  Boston  Female 
Asylum^  Sept.  20,  1805,  being 
their  Jifih  anniversary.  By  WiU 
Ham  Emerson  ^minister  of  the  first 
church  in  Boston.  Russell  & 
Cutler.  1805.  pp.ZQ.  Text. 
Matt.  xxiv.  13. 

This  discourse  is  introduced  by 
a  text,  which  is  perhaps  more  ap- 
propriate to  the  circumstances  of 
this  charitable  institution,  than  any 
other  in  the  whole  compass  of  the 
sacred  writings.  The  delicacy 
and  elegance  of  the  compliment  it 
conveys  must  have  been  peculiarly 
grateful  to  the  members  of  thw 
society,  and  have  excited  a  degree 
of  expectation,  which,  we  dare  to 
say>  was  not  disappointed  in  thq 


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;oj 


EMEBI0N*8   DISCOURSE. 


progress  of  the  discourse.  The 
connexion  of -the  text  is  well  illus- 
trated and  applied  ;  the  observa- 
tions follow  fronfi  it  without  labour 
or  constraint. 

Though  the  Female  Asylum  has 
been  generally  approved,  still  there 
are  some  benevolent  and  judicious 
men,  who  have  been  doubtful  of  its 
ultimate  tendency,  and  have  there- 
fore been  less  unreserved  in  their 
commendations,  than  our  author. 
We  do  not  say  that  he  has  been 
immoderate  in  its  praise  ;  but  we 
suggest  to  his  consideration,  whe- 
ther he  has  not  expressed  himself 
with  too  little  caution,  when  he 
compares  to  the  avarice  and  envy 
of  Judas  the  motives  of  those  per- 
sons "  who  may  persist  in  con- 
demning the  desigp  of  this  institu- 
tion ?"  The  friends  of  the  Asylum, 
however,  have  found  in  the  preach- 
er an  eloquent  advocate,  and,  but 
for  the  exceptions  just  mentioned, 
an  enemy  might  almost  be  made  a 
convert. 

The  word  ^  reciprocity"  is  hard- 
ly admissible,  and  the  phrase  "  em- 
pyrean heavens"  is  rather  above 
the  heads  of  common  audiences. 

We  extf act  the  following  spec- 
imen of  tlie  writer's  style  and  man- 
ner. 

The  fubjcift  alfo  fuggcfls  a  fine  IcfTon 
cm  the  effe<5t  of  commendation.  How 
fweet  is  the  voice  of  praife  !  It  is  necef- 
fary  to  the  young,  it  is  exhilirating  to 
the  old.  There  is  none  fo  high  as  to  be 
above,  and  none  fo  low  at  to  be  beneath 
Its  influence.  To  repofe  under  the  fliade 
of  the  laurel,  we  fee  the  fhident  wafting 
his  confUtution  before  the  lamp,  the 
Aatefinan  denying  himfelf  cafe,  and  the 
vi(ftorious  general  braving  death  in  a 
thoufand  forras.  Let  us  however  dif- 
tinguirti  the  applaufe  of  the  fickle  mul- 
titude from  the  calm  approbation  of  the 
wife  and  go«d.  The  firft  it  unworthy 
the  purfuit  of  man  or  woman,  the  laft 
Is  an  ornament  of  grace,  of  which  the 
moft  moded  chriftian  is  permitted  to  be 
load  ;  it  it  a  crown  of  glory,  which  the 


humbled  chrifUan  may  be  proud  to  wetr. 
This  alone  it  genuine  honour  ;  it  it  the 
-  natural  and  well  ripe  fruit  of  genuine 
worth.  It  it  fometimet  in  pofleflion  of 
the  humble  cottager,  at  well  at  of  him 
who  figuret  in  the  walks  of  publick  life. 
Thit  is  that  good  name  ^vbUb  u  hftier  thorn 
^ecious  ointment^  and  raiber  U  he  cbefem 
than  great  rkbeu  To  a  perfon  confdiotts 
of  merit,  whofe  adUont  are  guided  by 
wifdom,  and  terminate  in  private  happi- 
neft,  publick  utility,  and  the  honour  of 
religion,  how  grateful  the  commendation 
of  a  difcerning  friend  !  It  it  like  the  pre- 
cious ointment,  which  was  wont  to  moift- 
en  the  head  of  the  Hebrew  pried,  and 
to  perfume  hit  facerdotal  vedmeots.  Or 
it  may  be  likened  to  the  dews,  which 
copioufly  defceoded  on  the  hills  of  Her- 
mon,  quickening  the  progrefs  of  vegeta- 
tion, and  clothing  them  with  luxuriance 
and  beauty.  It  is  at  once  the  dimulut 
and  the  reward  of  beneficence.  And  it 
is  a  reward  which  we  cannot,  without 
doing  violence  to  the  bed  feelings  of  the 
heart,  refrain  from  bcdowing.  A%  like 
begets  like,  love  begets  love.  It  is  im- 
podible  to  behold  a  high  degree  of  na- 
tural beauty,  and  be  filent  in  its  praife. 
It  is  equally  impoflible  to  witnefs  an  z€t 
of  fincere  generofity,  and  not  feel  a  fen- 
timent  of  complacence  for  the  agent.  It 
it  immaterial  whether  the  a^ion  be  done 
for  our  advantage,  or  that  of  our  neigh- 
bour. Jefus  would  have  commended  a 
fimilar  adHon  in  Mary  performed  for 
any  other  man  ;  and  he  would  have 
praifcd  the  fame  deed  performed  for  him 
by  any  other  woman.  What  a  beautiful 
encomium  it  here  paid  by  our  mader  to 
his  worthy  friend  !  Who  will  henceforth 
doubt  if  love  of  honour,  within  moder- 
ate limits,  may  be  judified  ?  It  is  mani- 
fed  that  Chrid  here  faniSUfies  a  defire  of 
glory,  and  confecratet  it  to  the  praifHce 
of  virtue.  Veriiy  1  fay  unto  you,  wherrv^ 
er  tbu  gofPel  ^U  be  preached  tbrougbout  tht 
nvh^ie  vj»rid,  there  Jhall  aJJo  ihity  tbat  this 
vfman  hath  done^  be  told  for  a  tmemorial  etf 
her,  Blefled  Jefut !  We  thit  dav  help  to 
make  thee  a  true  prophet.  In  thefe  endt 
of  the  earth  we  veri^  thy  words.  Yet, 
thou  excellent  woman,  who  anointedft 
with  precious  ointment  the  holy  faviour 
of  the  world,  at  the  di dance  of  eighteen 
centurietfrom  thy  death,  we  publiih  thy 
beneficence  with  joy  and  gratitude. 
Though  no  datue  it  ere^ed  to  thy  fame, 
thy  bounty  ihall  yet  be  had  in  everlading 
remembrance  :  without  the  aid  of  brafs. 


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FORTER*S  ORDINATION   4ERMo!f. 


105 


tliy  diart^lcr  will  ererj  where  bt  dear. 
HTbcreTcr  the  gofpel  of  our  falvation 
Ihall  be  made  known  ;  wherever  it  {liall 
carry  peace  to  the  turbulent,  and  light  to 
ihofe  in  dirknefs  ;  wherever  it  (hall  offer 
pardon  to  the  penitent,  and  immortality 
to  the  good,  there  ihall  thy  lovely  name 
be  n>are  fragrant  than  the  perfumes,  and 
iby  memory  precious  at  that  of  the  jufl ! 


ART.  9. 

d  9ermon^  fireached  at  the  ordina^ 
tion  of  Rrv,  Chartva  Lowell  to 
the  pastoral  care  qf  the  west 
church  and  congregation  in  Bos^ 
toHjJan,  1,  1806.  By  Elifihalet 
Porter^  pOJitor  of  the  first  church 
in  Rojcbury,  Annexed  are  The 
charge^  by  Professor  Ware  ;  and 
right  hand  qf  felloivshi/iy  by  Mr. 
Buckminster,  Boston ;  Belcher 
k  Armstrong. 

The  chief  entertainment  of  an 
ordinatioo  sermon  is  to  be  found  in 
the  addresses  at  the  close.  The 
preceding  matter  resembles  the 
half  hour,  which  is  spent  in  the 
drawing  room  before  dinner  :  it  is 
irksome  ;  but  a  good^atured  and 
civil  man,  if  he  does  not  attend  to 
it  with  delight,  will  endure  it  with 
patience,  sensible  that  a  half  hour, 
•*  though  it  may  be  tedious,  can- 
not be  long,^  and  that  the  feast* 
which  is  to  follow,  will  compensate 
him  for  his  mental  fatigue.  Mr. 
Porter  b  an  entertainer  who  de- 
serves our  thanks  ;  for  whilst  he 
has  interested  and  pleased  us  in 
the  conclusion  of  his  discourse,  he 
is  neither  long  nor  dull  in  the  in- 
troductory part.  His  text  is,"  Sanc- 
tify them  through  thy  truth  ;  thy 
word  is  truth  ;**  and  the  two  di- 
f  i^ons  of  his  subject  are,  "  I .  It  is 
by.  means  of  truth,  that  God  sanc- 
tifies mankind.  2.  The  word  of 
Cod  is  the  truth,  by  which  this 
itnportant  purpose  is  effected." 
The  three  extracts  which  follow 


^re   favourable  specimetii  of  his 
manner. 

I  will  not  assert,  that  the  knowledge 
of  the  truth  and  the  practice  of  right'' 
eousnets  are  inseparably  connected ;  an4 
much  less,  that  the  latter  is  always  in 
eiact  proportion  to  the  former.  But  it 
is  a  fact,  which  I  believe  will  not  be  de-* 
aied,  that  they  have  been  associated  in  m 
manner,  which  could  not  have  been  the 
result  of  accident.  A  history  of  the  pro- 
gress and  state  of  reli<4l^is  knowledge, 
in  the  various  ages  and  countries  of  the 
world,  would  be  found  a  valuable  indet 
of  their  state  of  moral  improvement. 

To  search  the  scriptures,  in  order  to 
acquaint  ourselves  With  their  meaning, 
is  our  indispensable  duty.  When  we  en- 
gage in  this  employment,  we  must  take 
with  us  our  reason  and  conscience.  l'he»e 
are  essential  to  our  understanding  the 
writtea  word  of  God.  Without  their 
light  and  aid,  we  cannot  proceed  a  step 
in  interpreting  the  sacred  scriptures ;  but 
shall  be  led  into  crrour  and  absurdity^ 
by  the  first  metaphor,  or  £gurative  ex^ 
pression  that  occurs. 

The  successor  of  a  Mayhew  and  a 
Howard  ou';ht  not  to  content  himself 
with  low  attainments  in  knowledge  and 
goodness.  This  fiock  have  been  accuse 
tomed  to  substantial  food,  and  mu^t  noC 
be  fed  with  chaff.  They  will  require 
knowledge  and  understanding ;  or  in 
other  words,  doctrines  and  precept«« 
founded  on  plain  seriptore  and  coramoa 
tense.  * 

The  charg^e,  by  Professor  WarCf 
is  such  as  we  should  expect  from 
the  decent  and  correct  mind  of  its 
author.  It  is  destitute  of  oma« 
ment,  and  contains  little  novelty. 
But  as  ornament  would  be  mis^ 
placed  in  an  authoritative  exhorta- 
tion, and  novelty  could  not  be  ob- 
tained, without  deviating  from  the 
model  which  St.  Paul  has  given, 
these  circumstances,  we  think,  en- 
title it,  not  to  censure,  but  praise. 
In  the  following  passage,  Mr. 
Ware,  without  insisting  on  any 
doubtful  qualifications,  points  out^ 
in  concise  terms,  the  endow  mcnts, 
which  a  candidate  for  ordination 
ought  to  possess.  We  give  it  as 
a  specimen,  not  only  of  his  style. 


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104 


fcOWEN*S  oiscotnsB^ 


but  of  his  moderation  and  good 
tense. 

The  miniftry,  Which  you  hare  receiv- 
ed yourfelf,  you  will  be  careful  alfo  to 
commit,  as  you  ihall  be  called  io  provi- 
dence CO  that  fervice,  only  to  faithful 
men,  who  give  fatisfatSbory  evidence  of 
a  found  underdanding,  of  competent 
knowledge,  of  pure  morals,  of  unquef- 
tionable  piety,  and  of  unbleniiflied  rep- 
utation. 

The  light  hand  of  fellowship,  by 
Mr.  Buckminster,  is  the  splendid 
performance  of  a  young  man  of 
genius.  The  following  simile  was 
received  by  the  auditory  with  a 
murmur  of  applause  ;  and  we 
doubt  not  it  will  afford  a  high  grat- 
ification to  the  reader. 

Is  there  not,  amidft  all  the  varieties  of 
difcipline  and  faith,  enough  left  us  in 
common  to  preferve  a  unity  of  fpint  f 
What  though  the  globes,  which  compofe 
our  planetary  fyflem,  are  at  fometimes 
nearer  than  at  others,  both  to  one  anoth- 
er and  to  the  fun,  now  eroding  one  an- 
other's path,  now  ccHpGng  one  another's 
Irght,  and  even  fometimes  appearing  to 
our  fhort-fighted  vifion  to  have  wander- 
ed irrecoverably,  and  to  have  gone  off 
into  boundlefs  fpace  ;  yet  do  we  not 
know  that  they  are  ftill  reached  by  fome 
genial  beams  of  the  central  light,  and 
continue,  in  their  widefl  aberrations,  to 
gravitate  to  the  fame  point  in  the  fyf- 
tem  f  And  may  we  not  believe  that 
the  great  head  of  the  church  has  always 
difpenfed,  through  the  numerous  focie- 
tics  of  chridendom,  a  portion  of  the 
healing  influences  of  his  religion  ;  has 
beld  them  invifibly  together,  when  they 
have  appeared  to  be  ru(hing  fartheft 
afunder  ;  and  through  all  the  order  and 
confufion,  conjundtion  and  oppofition, 
progrefs  and  decline  of  churches,  has 
kept  alive  in  every  communion  a  fu- 
preme  regard  to  his  authority,  when 
clearly  known,  as  a  common  principle 
of  relation  to  him  and  to  one  another  I 

In  the  extract  which  follows, 
Mr.  B.  has,  with  a  few  masterly 
strokes,  drawn  the  true  characters 
of  the  great  May  hew,  and  the  vir- 
tuous Howard. 


Surely  the  de(k,  whtre  fuch  men  M 
Mayhew  and  Howard  have  flood,  is 
privileged  above  the  common  ^aih  of 
publick  inflru(5tion. — Of  Mayhew  we 
have  heard  and  read  only,  but  enough 
to  know,  that  poflerity  will  bear  and 
read  of  him  alfo.  They  will  be  corioiM 
to  learn  more  of  that  intrepid  fpirit, 
which  nothing  could  deprefs  ;  of  that 
vigorous  underflanding,  which  broke  fo 
eafily  the  little  meihes  which  were  fpread 
to  entangle  it.  However  they  may  hef- 
itate  to  follow  him  in  all  his  f pecula- 
tions, they  will  never  hcfitate  to  admire 
his  noble  attachment  to  his  country,  its 
liberties,  its  churches,  and  its  literature  ; 
they  will  not  beinterefted  to  depreciate 
the  independence  of  his  virtue,  the 
manlinefs  of  his  piety,  and  the  undiflem* 
bled  love  for  the  caufe  of  his  Redeemer. 
Howard  we  have  feen  ;  and  who  that  has 
feen  him  has  forgotten  the  patriarchal 
iimplicity  of  his  chara(5ler,  united  with  s 
tendernefs,  which  would  have  been  ad- 
mired even  in  a  brother  ?  "Who  that 
knew  him  is  not  eager  now  ta  afliire  us,^ 
that  h^  had  ingrafted  the  moft  fublime 
virtues  and  honourable  accomplifliments 
of  his  predeceffor  on  the  found  and  na- 
corrupted  flock  of  his  own  integrity  f    > 

In  the  last  extract  we  have 
marked  a  word,  which  appears  to 
us  to  be  incorrectly  employed. 
As  Mayhew  and  Howard  only 
stood  in  the  pulpit,  other  publick 
instructers  ought  not,  in  the  same 
sentence,  to  have  walka  assigned 
to  them. 

ART.    10. 

A  dUcourae  delivered  at  the  request 
qf  the  jimertcan  revolution  »o- 
a>/t/,  before  that  wciety^  and  the 
state  society  of  the  Cincinnati^  on 
the  death  of  Gen.  Christopher 
Gadsden^  Se/it.  10,  1805.  By 
A^athaniel  Boweny  A,  M,  rector 
if  St,  Michael* Sy  and  member  qf 
the  American  revolution  society. 
Published  at  the  request  of  the 
two  societies,  Charleston.  W. 
P.Young,    fifi.  22. 

There  are  various  defects  in 
this  discourse.     The  style  is  to# 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


itPfttM^Kt  to  jottirsoM^s  mtnoffkur. 


lot 


liiiterted.  In  the  composition  of 
the  sentences,  there  are  too  many 
members  and  useless  adjeodvesi 
Two  or  three  instances  of  bad 
grammar  are  discoverable*  The 
felativest  t/tat  and  wfdchy  are  too 
often  elliptlcally  omitted,  and  the 
ibrmer  is  sometimes  tised,  when 
the  latter  should  have  been  prefer* 
red,  both  on  account  of  perspicuity 
9fid  euphony*  We  are  willing  to 
believe  ^nf  thmg  commenda" 
lory  of  Gen.  Garden,  but  the 
generality  of  readers  tirotild  have 
been  more  pleased  with  a  biog-' 
raphical  narratlcmi  than  loose  eu-* 
logy  in  the  b«dy  of  the  discourse, 
lod  ^jointed  historical  facts  in 
the  notes.  From  the  present 
work  the  future  historian  can  glean 
Bothing  ;  and  no  funeral  orator  of 
m  illustrioas  statesman  or  renown^ 
fd  commander  will  consider  it  as 
a  model  for  eloquence  or  cnco« 
mium. 


ART.  11. 

J  iufifilement  to  JohnsonU  English 
Dictionary s  By  Qeorge  Msuon* 
Re'printed  fit>m  the  London 
Quarto  edition.  New  York,  for 
I.  Riky  &  Co.    8vo. 

Mr«  Mason  has  unquestionably 
produced  a  very  useful  work, 
Irhich  ire  recommend  to  all  the 
(rc^rietora  of  Johnson^s  dictiona- 
|ry.  We  are  sorry  to  find  in  his 
pre£Bu:c,  that  he  has  treated  the 


great  luminary  of  his  age  whh 
disrespect,  atid,  we  believe,  with 
injusUce.  He  talks  of  Ma  inaccus 
raciesj  qf  hU  vatiotu  mamMten* 
eiea  with  /ttmae{fy  qf  fda  toant  qf 
diligence  J  qf  the  natrcttmeaa  qf  hi9 
tnteiHgencef  qf  his  mistakes f  qf  hi^ 
negligence^  and  dejiciency^  qf  hi: 
highly  ridiculous  observations. 

The  dictionary  of  Johnson  is  a 
stupendous  work,  considered  as 
the  production  of  one  man  ;  and 
has  been  regarded  by  the  best 
judges,  as  superiour  to  the  French 
lexicon  of  the  forty  academicians* 
According  to  Garrkk^s  compii« 
ment, 

He  has  beat  forty  French^  and  mil 
beat  forty  more. 

The  genius  of  Johnson  ought  not 
to  have  been  degraded  to  the 
mechanical  drudgery  of  such  % 
work,  though  no  man  living  couI4 
have  executed  it  so  well.  It  was 
Hercules  cleansing  the  Augean 
•tables,  the  most  arduous,  and 
least  glorious  of  his  labours.  The 
task  of  Mr.  Mason  was  compaiy 
atively  easy.  He  had  only  to  picl^ 
up  what  might  have  dropped  ot 
been  overlooked  by  the  laJ>ouring 
hero.  The  task  Was  performed 
by  the  removal  of  the  filth.  Noth- 
ing remained  for  Mr.  Mason  but 
the  light  labours  of  the  broom- 
Mr.  Mason,  in  his  attack  on  the 
Doctor,  reminds  us  of  Shake- 
speare^B  <<  flea  op  the  lip  of  • 
Uon." 


VoLIII.Ko«9<    9 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


i06 


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lerj  in  the  different  parts  of  the  United  States  to  fend  us  bj  tbe  earlieft  op' 
portunittes  fpoft  paid)  notices  of  all  books  <wbich  they  have  lately  publijbed, 
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States  ;  and  confequently  the  only  one  that  can  be  ufeful  to  the  publick  for 
purpofes  of  general  reference.  If  authors  and  publiftfcrs  wll  therefore  con^ 
fent  to  communicate^  not  only  noticeSf  but  a  copy  of  all  thoir  publications^ 
fuch  ufe  mif^bt  be  made  of  them  as  would  promote^  »whai  all  unite  in  ar^ 
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jRar.  19mo.  D.  Carliile,  for  John  ^eft, 
^  ^(lon. 

Underwood  on  the  dife^fin  of  chil- 
dren.    8vo.    Bofton,  David  Weft; 

Paley's  View  of  the  evidences  of  thp 
chriftian  religion.  Third  American  e- 
dition.  8vD.  XX  Carlifle,  fofr  John  We% 
3ofh)n. 

Chaptairs  Oh^miftry.  8vo.  Bpftoii, 
^omas  it  Andrews. 

Abridgement  of  Morfe's  Geography. 
I  vol.  1 2mo.   Boflen,  Thpmas  &  Andrews. 

Baxter's  mtfcellahies,  ccmutining,  Call 
to  the  Unconverted — Walks  in  Solitude 
r*-«nd  Dying  Thoughts.  1  vol.  J2<nO. 
^IliUfl^phi^,  Woodw«»d. 


ripPOSKP   TO     BK     KTBLlSVIp     IT    9V9f 

•caimoK. 
The  particular  communion  of  the  Bap* 
tift  churches  explained  and  vindicfted. 
Two  tra^,  publi^l^  originally  by  the 
author  in  1789  and  1794 :  togedier  with 
an  appendix,  containing  obfervatioiirand 
arguments  on  the  prefeot  (late  of  coo- 
troverfy  refpedsng  that  fubje^.  Bf 
Thomas  Baldwin,  d.  p.  1  Smo.  about  800 
pages.  Price  to  fubfcribers  1  dollar 
bound.    Bofton,  ^ianning  &  Loring. 

A  voluine  of  fermons  oo  intereftin^ 
fubje^b.  By  Sir  Henry  Moncrieff  Well- 
wood,  Bart.  D.p.  and  r.a.s.  Edinburgh, 
and  fenior  chaplain  in  ordinary  in  Scot- 
land to  hit  royal  highnefs  the  prince  of 
Wales.  8vo.  between  S  and  400  pa^et. 
Price  boupd  and  lettered  1,75.  Harti6z49 
Conn.  Lincoln  &  Gleafon. 

The  Village  Dialogues.  By  the  eml- 
penUy  pious  and  R^v.  Roland  Hill,  of 
I/>ndon.  Thefe  dialogues,  thirty-four 
in  number,  are  on  a  variety  of  intereftmg 
fubjeifts,  and  efpecially  the  ilave  trade. 
S  vols.  12mo.  about  350  pages  each,  fiii» 
paper.    Philadelphia.     Woodward. 

A  nf?w  work,  entitled.  Political  World, 
or  an  inquiry  refpeaing  th^  rights  am) 
dutifis  of  the  peopk  of  all  countries.  Bj 
Elihu  Palmer.  The  fubjea  of  this  work 
will  be  prefented  to  the  piiblick  under 
fonr  g^eral  divifiont,  including,  1.  ^ 
pbilofophick  developement  of  the  monX 
conftitution  and  eflinitial  rights  of  ha<- 
man  exiftence.  2.  The  belt  fneaos  of 
preferving  thefe  rights  under  the  tafhl* 
ence  of  corredt  political  tiftabliihmeBti, 
tn  this  part  of  the  work  a  particular  dif- 
cuflion  of  the  czcellenpies  and  defe^  of 
the  American  conftitutions  will  be  pre- 
fented. S.  The  conne<aion  between  civ, 
il  and  ecdefiaftical  defpotifm.  Under 
this  divifion  pf  the  fubjea  it  vrill  be 
proved,  that  until  church  and  ftate  (haU 
be  feparated  in  their  rcfpedlive  empires, 
and  their  rights  and  boundaries  roariced 
with  di<Vina  and  difcriminate  precifion, 
it  will  be  impoflible  to  place  republican 
liberty  upon  any  folid  or  durable  foun- 
dation. 4.  An  anticipated  view  of  tho 
moral  and  fcientifick  confequences  refutt- 
ing  from  the  uniyerfal  e&ibliibment  of 
liberty,  together  with  anfwers  to  the  for- 
midable obje<5tions  whicb  have  been  ad- 
vanced againft  the  perfeaable  nature  of 
maurand  the  triumphant  reign  of  re- 
publican virtue  over  the  whole  eartl^ 
ifmo.  pp.  S50,  Price  |x>uiid  1  dpUaf. 
Keif-Yor^^ 


Digitized  By 


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HfTXLLIGENCE. 


109 


A  edOe^&^n  of  pCiUfl)  and  hymn  tttQ«s, 
taken  principally  from  a  celebrated  work, 
Jttdy  pablifliea  in  London,  and  ufed  at 
tbe  chapel  of  tke  Lock  Uofpical,  &c.  To 
Wfhick  will  be  added  fome  of  tbe  mod  far 
voarite  tunes  at  prefenc  in  ufe  in  the  U- 
aitcd  States.  This  work  will  be  adapted 
for  kmr  Toices  and  organ  for  the  pub- 
Jick  worikip.  As  the  foil  harraonyt  or 
thorough  baft,  is  annexed  to  the  treble, 
in  fiaaU  notes,  it  will  be  e<}uaUy  calcu- 
lated for  the  piano  forte  with  one  or  two 
voices.  The  whole  work  will  contain 
about  900  pages  folio,  including  a  titl^ 
p^e,  index,  Si.  The  firft  number,  of  8 
pages  folio,  engrared,  will  be  publidied 
the  I  ft  of  March,  and  continueid  month- 
Ij.  Price  to  fubfcribcrs  $0  cents,  to  non- 
tohTcriberB  75  cents.  Qofton,  C.  Oraup- 
oer,  pobliiher. 


The  Man  of  FeeHng,  a  sord,  by  H. 
Mc  Keuzle,  Efq.  author  of  the  Man  of 
the  World,  &c.  with  an  account  of  thtf 
author  s  life,  neyer  before  puhlifhed.  1 
voL  8vo.  price  1  dol.  Richmond,  Vir. 
S.  Grantland. 

A  new  mufical  work,  entitled  The 
Harmonick  Magaaine.  To  be  publiflied 
in  numbers,  femi-monthly,  and  to  con- 
tain fele^ions  from  the  coropofitions  of 
the  mod  celebrated  mudcians  in  'Eu- 
rope, together  with  American  original 
compofitions.  Each  number  to  contain 
32  pages  quarta  A  title  page  and  in* 
dez  to  be  given  with  the  volume.  Pric^ 
S  dollars  per  annum,  or  50  cents  per 
number.  Sal^m,  Ma^.  S.  Holyokei 
p)ibUihcr. 


l^TTELLIGEKCE. 


A-  benottfiil  Stertttypt  Prayer^Booi,  in 
doable  colamns,  ISmo.,  with  large  face 
oinion  letter,  on  S64  plates,  was  publiih- 
ed  by  the  Univerfity  of  Cambridge,  £ng. 
iahr  S  ;  and  fince  then  an  8vo.  £Dgli& 
Teftaacnt  in  long  primer.  The£e  are 
the  firft  fmits,  we  tmft,  of  many  excel- 
kot  prodndions  of  this  kind,  which  may 
be  cxpeded  to  proceed  from  that  prefs. 
We  are  happy  %o  hear,  that  the  Univer- 
ityof  Oxford  has  adopted  the  fame 
plan  of  printing ;  and  that  preparation* 
are  now  making  there  to  begin  a  new 
Odavo  edition  of  the  Welih  Bible  in 
fkercotype,  of  which  the  Society  for 
promoting  Chriftian  Knowledge  has  en- 
gaged twenty  thonfand  copier.  A  Ste- 
notype  Pocket  Bible,  in  WelOi,  of 
twenty  thouiand  copies,  had  been 
previoully  undertaken  for  the  Britifli 
•ad  Foreign  Bible  Society,  by  the  Uni- 
verfity of  Cambridge. 

The  Bookfellers  have  agreed  to  re- 
print Dr,  y^Smfi>M*j  E>t^Jk  P$iUi  with  the 
addition  of  Cbmucrr^  Spenfir^  and  the  oth- 
er early  poets,  as  weU  as  the  mod  eminent 
of  thofe  poets  who  have  died  lince  Mr. 
Jdmfms  feries  doTed.  The  whole  will 
form  a  complete  body  of  EogliHi  poetry. 
The  early  poets  vrill  be  colledfced,  and 
the  additiood  lives  wnCten  by  Mn  AUn- 
mdcr  Chmim€rs. 

A  new  edition  of  Dr,  Jiibnfintx  works, 
being  the  fourth  fince  his  death,  is  alfo 
in  theprefs,  and  will  appear  in  the  early 
part  of  the  winter.  This  has  forat  ad- 
(  ao4  illnllrativo  not^ . 


It  is  in  the  department  of  ancient 
claflicks,  that  the  emulation  of  the  Geo* 
man  literati  appears  chiefly  to  be  ftimu» 
lated.  Many  hiave  come  forth  from  the 
fchool  of  Heyne.  The  edition  of  JJomert 
Jliad^  by  Frofeflbr  Wolf,  who  prefixed 
an  elaborate  colle<5tion  of  proofs,  deduce 
ed  from  internal  and  external  circum* 
Aances,  that  aii  the  poems  afcribcd  to 
Homer  were  not  written  by  the  fame 
hand,  has  excited  great  attention  in 
France,  where  it  has  been  oppofed  by 
the  leaumed  Reviewer  ef  the  hillorians 
of  Alexander  the  Great. 

The  doubts  which  have  been  darted 
in  England,  on  the  authenticity  of  the 
four  celebrated  orations  fuppofcd  to  have 
been  delivered  by  Cicero  after  his  return 
from  exile,  and  which  had  been  refuted 
by  Gefner  in  his  lectures  before  the 
Royal  Society  at  Gottingen,  from  1753 
to  1759,  were  revived  by  Mr.  Wolf,  whp 
reprinted,  in  1801,  the  arguments  on 
both  (ides  of  the  queftion,  with  his  ob- 
je<^ons  to  thofe  of  Geiher,  and  intima* 
tions  that  the  authencity  df  another  Ci- 
mous  oration  of  Cicero  might  be  difput- 
ed.  Accordingly,  in  the  following  year, 
he  printed  the  oration  pro  MarcdU^  with 
an  tntroduddon,  and  commentary,  main^ 
taining  it  to  be  fpuripus.  Thele  eflays, 
which  we  apprehend  to  have  been  mere- 
ly fportive,  threw  the  publick  ccnfors  of 
literature  into  no  fmall  perplexity  and 
conftemation  ;  and  they  fcem  to  hav^ 
thought  Wolf,  like  Antteus,  to  be  inviiH 
pbl^  on  the  foil  from  wl^ch  lie  TpruAft 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


€10 


INTELLIGENCE. 


At  length,  Wormius  ventured  to  encoun- 
ter him  on  Danifh  ground  :  and  printed 
another  edition  of  the  controverted  ora- 
tion, with  annotations,  in  which,  ftep  by 
ftep,  he  gravely  refuted  M.  Wolf,  proba- 
bly much  to  the  amufement  of  the  lat- 
ter, whofe  only  view  it  thought  to  have 
been,  to  indulge  his  humour  at  the  ez- 
penfe  of  perfoos  who  prided  themfelvet 
on  the  reputation  of  fupcriour  criticifm. 

The  new  edition  of  Tacitus^  with  Ru- 
pcrti's  Commentary,  <publi{hed  (at  the 
late  Leipzig  fair)  by  Dieterich,  is  merely 
a  compilation,  printed  with  bad  types  on 
coarfe  paper.  At  the  fame  time,  M. 
Fritfch,  of  Leipzig,  publiOied  an  edition 
of  the  younger  Fiiny'j  works,  edited  by 
fichafcr  ;  and  alfo,  of  Propertitts^  by  Mr. 
Kninol  of  GielTen.  The  former  is  an 
improvement  of  Gefner*s  edition  ;  and 
U  printed  with  excellent  types,  on  fine 
paper  :  but  the  latter  is,  in  the£e  refpedls, 
much  inferiour  to  Heyne*8  Tibullus. 

Mr.  Wool!  has  in  the  prefs.  Biograph- 
ical N^moirs  of  the  late  Dr.  I.  Wart  on, 
with  a  fele^ion  from  his  poetical  works, 
and  an  eztenfive  literary  correfpondence 
between  eminent  perfons,  left  by  him  for 
publication. 

J.  C  Davie,  Efq.  has  in  the  prefs,  Trav- 
els in  South  America,  in  a  feries  of  let- 
ters to  the  late  Mr.  Yorke,  of  Taunton- 
Dean. 

Mungo  Park,  with  his  companions, 
who  failed  from  Portfmouth  a  few 
months  ago,  having  touched  at  the  if- 
lands  of  M.  Jago  and  Goree,  arrived  at 
Kayay,  on  the  river  Gambia,  on  the 
14th  of  April,  whence  they  were  to  pro- 
ceed in  a  few  days  into  the  inieriour  of 
Africa.  The  heat  was  at  that  time  fo 
cxceflive,  that  the  thermometer  was,  in 
the  middle  of  the  day,  100  degrees  in 
the  Hiade,  and  frequently  three  hours  af- 
ter funfet  it  continued  from  82  to  92 
jdegreet. 

Mr.  Humboldt  is  beginning  to  pub- 
lifli  the  refults  of  his  late  travels,  with 
an  affe(5Vation  that  deferves  to  be  repro- 
bated. He  begins  with  fome  ezpcnfive 
numbers  of  botany,  and  thence  proceeds 
to  fome  other  numbers  of  zoology  and 
geology,  promiling  that  he  will  conde- 
fcend  alfo  to  give  to  the  publick  an 
mkridgfj  account  of  his  travels,  adapted 
to  general  reading.  His  condefcenfion 
does  not,  however,  terminate  here  :  for 
he  tells  the  world  that  he  may  probably, 
in  a  few  years,  publifli  a  full  account  of 
Im*  travels,  but  that  the  akrid^ed  account 


may  fatisfy  curiofity  till  he  has  letfure  t« 
gratify  it  fully  ! 

Mr.  Irving,  author  of  a  work  on 
Englifli  Compofition,  and  of  the  Lives 
of  the  Scotti(h  Poets,  is  engaged  on  a 
Life  of  the  celebrated  George  Buchanan. 

The  emperour  of  Ruffia  propofet 
forming  an  in(Htutioo  at  Peterlburg  for 
the  purpofe  of  improving  the  navy* 
which  is  to  be  called  the  Marine  Mufe- 
unL  In  this  inftitution,  leflans  in  all  the 
fciences  neceifary  to  be  known  by  a  fea- 
officer  will  be  given.  It  will  publi  ih  a 
fort  of  journal  upon  every  fubjedt  that 
concerns  the  marine.  There  will  be  ax- 
tached  to  the  mufeum  a  library,  and  a 
colledUon  of  natural  hiftory,  which  will 
be  eonftantly  open  to  the  (Indents.  The 
eftabU(hroent  is  to  be  under  the  direc- 
tion of  the  minifter  of  the  marine,  and 
the  members  are  to  wear  a  uniform  like 
that  of  the  marines. 

General  Alexander  Palitzyn  has  tranf^ 
lated  into  the  RufHan  language  the  Voy- 
age of  Lord  Macartney  to  China,  which 
will  be  accompanied  with  very  fine  plates. 

M.  Dupuis,  of  the  In(Htute,  has  read  a 
curious  memoir  on  the  phoenix.  He  d&- 
mondrates  that  this  celebrated  bird  nev- 
er exided.  It  was  (lated  to  return  at  pe- 
riods of  1481  years  ;  but  writes  very 
confiderably  relative  to  this  duration. 
Herodotus  relates  many  wonderful  things 
concerning  the  phoenix  ;  Pliny  fpeaks  of 
its  reprodudUon  ;  Tacitus  informs  us, 
that  it  repairs  to  Heliopolis  to  die.  U 
was  confecrated  to  the  fun.  One  of  the 
times  of  its  appearance  occurred  during 
the  reign  of  Sefoftris,  1 328  years  before 
our  era.  Horns  Apollo  and  Nonnus  ai^ 
ftrt  that  it  was  an  emblem  of  the  fun, 
and  one  of  the  names  of  that  luminary. 

A  fociety  has  been  ellabliflied  at  Ber- 
lin, whofe  objedb  is  to  fend  midionaries 
every  year  to  Africa,  and  efpecially  tD 
that  part  of  it  inhabited  by  the  negroes, 
that  with  the  light  of  chriAianity  they 
roav  di^ife  fome  tindhire  of  our  arts, 
and  fow  feeds  of  a  more  refined  civiliza- 
tion. Two  miiTionaries  have  already  fat 
out  for  Guinea. 

A  variety  of  valuable  antiquities  have 
been  difcovered  in  The(raly.  Among 
them  are  the  buds  of  Ariftotle  and  Ana- 
creon,  a  large  (latue  of  Ceres,  with  a 
coin  of  Lyfimachus,  and  fome  remarka- 
ble pillars.  A  Greek  MS.,  containing  9 
commentary  of  Nicephorus  on  the  an* 
cients,  and  the  ancient  Greek  church  ^ 
was  ^covered  at  th^  fame  timt. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


IXT£LLIG£i7eE. 


in 


The  raTtarches  2rt  Pompeii  are  contin- 
wei  with  great  fuccefs.  The  queen  of 
Naples  has  been  with  the  royal  family  to 
tnfpedl  them,  and  ia  her  prefence  was 
difcorered  an  ancient,  edifice,  in  which 
were  found  vafes  of  the  greatefl  beauty, 
oedaU,  muficai  indniinentt,  and  what 
is  o{  more  value  than  all  the  reft,  a  beau- 
tiful bronze  (latue  reprelentingHercule* 
knHog  the  celebrated  hind  of  mount 
Meaolus.  The  compofition  and  dedgn 
of  thJU  ^ronp  are  perfc<Et.  In  the  fame 
bic'Idiag  have  likewife  been  found  fome 
extremely  beautiful  paintings,  among 
vhich  one  reprefening  Diana  farprifed 
by  Aifteon  is  particularly  didinguifhed. 
The  colonring  of  Diana  is  equal  to  any 
thing  that  Titian  ever  produced.  The 
queen,  it  is  faid,  intends  to  have  this 
ftnu^ure  repaired.  She  has  likewife  or- 
dered the  chevalier  Venuti  to  fuperin- 
teod  at  Rome  the  execution  of  a  work 
u  marble,  alabafter,  and  metal,  reprtfent- 
iag  Pompen  in  miniature.  The  cheva- 
Ker  has  already  executed  a  ilmilar  per« 
formance,  reprefenting  the  temples  of 
Psftum,  which  is  m  the  pofTeifion  of 
the  queen. 

At  the  town  of  Fiefolc,  near  Florence, 
abeaottfal  amphitheatre  has  been  dif- 
eovered,  and  the  greateft  part  of  it  clear- 
ed from  the  rubbifli.  It  is  fuppofed 
that  h  would  contain  at  lealt  30,000 
periboa. 

•■«« 

Nentrai  J2^£<f.— The    editor,    having 
TCcdved  letters  from  feveral  perfons  of 
dtfitn^ion    in  Philadelphia,   Baltimore, 
aad  B»fion,  mod  of  whom  are  perfonally 
■nkmiwn  to  him,  adviftng  him  to  repub- 
lilh  his  numbers  on  neutral  rights  in  a 
Bore  permanent  form,  and  their  advice 
having  been  backed  bv  that  of  fome  of 
the  noft  refpe^bkble  of  his  friends  in  this 
pUce,  makes  the  following  reply  to  all 
thefe  applications  at  once.    His  circum- 
fiances  are  not  fuch  as  to  enable  him  un- 
iffifted  to  carry  on  a  work  through  the 
pre(s  of  the  magnitude  this  would  be, 
BO'  would  pmdence  juIHfy  the  attempt, 
without  the  fnpport  of  a  fubfcription  to 
K  leafl  an  indemnifying  amount.    The 
fbbjed  is  becoming  in  fome  degree  trite, 
ind,  to  borrow  from  a  letter  before  me, 
piblick  curiofitT,  alwap  capricious  and 
ealily  wearied,  is  fomewhat  abated  for 
reading  performances  of  this  nature.    Aa, 
however,  the  numbers  which  have  ap- 
peared in  this  paper,  and  which  are  in  a 
tbteoC  preparation  to  appear,  will,  when 
the  Cms  it  complet«d|  ^tford  at  leaft  « 


more  extensive  view  of  the  fnbje^,  in  alt 
its  afpe(fls,  than  any  publication  that  has 
yet  iilued  from  the  prefs ;  the  editor  i* 
ready  and  even  defiruus  to  comply  with 
the  requefls  with  which  he  has  been  hon- 
oured, if  a  fubfcription  for  that  purpofe 
can  be  filled.  And  that  the  experimenc 
may  be  fairly  made,  he  offers  the  follow- 
ing  propofals :— The  numbers,  with  thofe 
to  come,  (hall  be  remoulded,  revifed,aod 
corredked,  and  form  a  firft  part ;  a  par- 
ticular anfwer  to  fome  of  the  fophjfma 
of  War  in  Difguife,  will  form  a  fecond 
part ;  and  a  colleifHon  of  all  the  official 
documents  and  memorials  which  have 
appeared,  having  relation  to  the  fubjedl, 
fhall  be  added  by  way  of  Appendix  ;  fa 
as  to  put  the  purchafer  in  pofTeifion  of 
a  book  to  which  he  may  at  any  time  re- 
fer for  all  the  information  he  may  de- 
fire  on  a  quefUon  of  fo  great  national 
moment.  As  it  is  not  practicable  to  af- 
certain  what  the  hze  of  the  book  will  be, 
it  is  not  eafy  to  fix  upon  the  price,  k 
is  poffible  it  may  extend  to  a  volume  o£ 
400  or  perhaps  500  pages,  and  it  will  be 
afforded  at  the  ufual  price  of  a  work  of 
fuch  a  fize.  To  be  put  to  prefs  as  fooa 
as  the  appearance  of  the  fubfcription  li(k 
wUl  juOify  it.  W.  COLEMAN. 

[N.  r«ri  Evening  P^,] 

We  have  received  from  Philadelphia 
a  profpectus  of  a  new  periodical  paper, 
to  be  calkd  The  Hour,  b^  Thomas  Time- 
keeper ;  to  be  published  every  Monday, 
and  will,  for  the  moft  part,  be  devoted  t« 
topicks  immediately  eonnedted  with  the 
Hour;  embracing  politicks,  arts,  fciences^ 
and  polite  literature  ;  and  incloding,  in 
8  more  efpecial  manner,  a  review  of  the^ 
new  books,  magazines,  repoAtories,  and 
various  journals  of  the  United  States.  It 
will  confift  of  eight  large  ocraVo  pages* 
elegantly  printed.  The  price  4  dolhira 
ptranniim. 

Rev.  Samuel  Auftin  and  Mr.  Ifaiah 
Thomas,  jun.  have  iflued  propofals  for 
publifhing,  by  fubfcription,  llie  com- 
plete Works  of  the  late  Rev.  Prefident 
Edwards  of  New  Jerfey,  in  eight  o^vo 
volumes  of  about  five  hundred  pages 
each,  price  fourteen  dollars,  bound. — 
The  publick  are  now  in  pofifeflion  of 
thefe  works,  but  in  feparate  volumes  and 
imperfe^  ^itions.  It  was  thought  a 
tribute  of  refpedl  due  to  this  great  and 
amiable  theologian,  that  it  would  be 
promotive  of  the  literary  reputation  of 
our  country,  and  efToBtially  fuhfecve  cht 


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118 


IfBDlCAL   llEl'Oll't^ 


tatifc  of  ti^th  Slid  piety  in  general,  to 
coUedb  thefe  works  and  publilfk  tbem  un- 
der one  entire  impredlon.  Since  this 
plan  was  proje<£ted,  a  fimilar  one  hat 
been  fermed,  and  the  execution  of  it  is 
sow  in  confiderable  fonfeardnefs  on  the 
other  iide  of  the  Atlantic.  But  fr«n  the 
late  increafe  of  taxes  impofed  br  the  Bri- 
tifh  government,  and  other  incidental 
caufes,  books  imported  from  £ngland 
cannot  be  afforded  hj  bookfellers  as 
cheap  as  thofe  which  are  printed  here. 
Befides,  it  is  to  our  reproach  to  fufiSn*  the 
works  of  a  man  of  fo  much  celebrity  and 
ftich  uncommon  attainments,  a  man  who 
{lands  on  the  height  of  eleyation,  as  a 
lnetaphy^cian,a  theologian,  a  difcrimin<« 
ating  cafuift,  and  an  experimental  chril^ 
tian,  to  Want  that  patronage  in  his  own 
country  which  they  have  abroad. 

The  Plays  of  William  Shakefpcare,. 
t?ith  Johnfon  and  Steevens*  notes,  aug- 
mented by  Ifaac  Reed,  are  now  publi{h-< 
in^  by  Meflrs.  Riley  &  Co.  of  New  York, 
and  Maxwell,  &c.of  Philadelphia.  This 
fird  complete  American  edition  will  be 
contained  in  feventeen  roluities  crown 
Odtavo,  printed  in  a  ftyle  eminently 
beautiful  on  a  nfie  cream-coloured  woven 
paper,  under  the  immediate  dire<5bioo 
ftnd  fuperintendance  of  an  editor,  allifled 
by  feveral  men  of  letters. 

SytUnUtmi  IVwh, — ^Mr.  Francis  Ki- 
chok,  of  Philadelphia,  propofes  to  re- 
print the  works  of  Dr.  Sydenham,  in  two 
volumes  odlavo,  price  about  three  dol- 
lars fifty  cents.  Alany  phyfidant  hava 
been  confulted  on  the  fuDJedlt  who  <kmi* 
cur  in  recommending  their  publlcatioiL 
They  will  be  publiihed  with  notest  tn* 
tended  to  render  them  more  ufefiil  to 
the  American  (hidcnt  of  medicine,  hj 
^njamin  Ruih,  M.  D.  Profeflbr  of  Med- 
icine in  the^  univeriity  of  Pennfylvania. 
As  the  expenfe  of  publi^ng  thele  works 
will  be  confiderable,  and  the  fale  not  ea- 
tenfive,  they  cannot  be  undertaken  with^ 
out  a  profpe<^  of  fuccels  ;  all  ph3rficiana 
therefore  who  are  inclined  to  encourage 
the  publication  of  them,  are  defired  to 
tlfe  their  intereft  among  their  medical 
friends,  and  to  transmit  the  names  o# 
JubTcribers  to  F.  Nichols,  T.  Dobfon,  J. 
Omrad  &  Co.  and  S.  F.  Bradford,  book- 
rdlert,  Philadelphia  {  or  h>  White,  Bur- 
ditt,  &  €o.  Bofh^n. 

Mr.  Samuel  Pleafantf,  jnn.  of  Rich- 
*'»<>nd,  Virginia,  is  preparing  for  the 
prefs.  Part  I.  of  the  lecond  volume  of 
toe  Revifed  Code,  containing  a  colledion 
if  fach  a<^  of  the  geoeral  aiTfaibly  af 


Virginia,  of  a  publici:  and  perfnaHeit 
nature,  as  have  been  pafled  fmce  the 
year  1801,  together  with  thofe  of  the 
fame  nature,  which  iprere  omitted  in  the 
laft  edition  of  that  work,  from  1793  ta 
]  801  indnfive,  with  notes  of  reference 
to  former  and  fubfeqaent  ftatates ;  fo 
which  will  be  added  an  appendix  and 
copious  indax.^ 

DEATHS    IN   BOSTON 
From  ThurfJajt  Jan.  16   to    Tbmfi 

day^  Feb-  13,  as    reported    to    tbt 

Board  of  Health* 

Male.  Fan.  Ck. 
Accident  1 

ConAimptioQ  4*5      9 

Debility  1 

liropfy  I 

*  Fever,  nervoof  6      s 

Old  age  S      4 

PeripneumoDy  I 

Suddenly  S       1 

Unknown  S  \i 


Total 

•  ProbaUf  focotrcA. 


18     15     !• 


STATEMENT  OF  DISEASES 
Foa  FcaauART. 

AT  the  commencement  of  Febro* 
ary  the  weather  was  cdd  for  tbtf 
mod  party  and  ibmetiroes  attended 
with  fnow.  Afterwards,  a  doady 
atmofphefe,  fudden  changes  to  warm 
weather,  which  quickly  diflblved  the 
(hows,  and  then  as  ftiddenly  beeame 
cold.  From  abotit  the  middle  of 
the  month  it  has  been  uniformly 
mild  ;  the  fnow  has  di&ppcaredy 
and  vegetation  commenced. 

The  acute  difeafes  of  the  month 
have  been  fewer,  than  might  have 
been  expeded  from  the  great  varia- 
tions of  temperature,  which  have  ex-, 
ifted.  In  the  return  of  deaths  (which» 
by  the  way,  is  deficient  and  incorrect^ 
but  better  than  none)  we  find  icarce- 
ly  any  acute  difeaies  named.  The 
truth  is,  that  moft  of  thofe  diforderst 
which  recuited,  were  cured  by  mcd^ 
icine.  Among  thde  may  be  enume* 
rated  a  few  ca(es  of  pneumonic  ia» 
Hammation,  of  rheumatifin,  of  ca* 
tarrh,  and  foroe  of  typhoa  mitioff 
followed  by  long  protradcd  conva^ 
kiceoce.  Chronic  complaints  foro^ 
at  prefent  much  the  ku){eft  propof^' 
tioB  of  difeaif. 


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THE 


MONTHLY   ANTHOLOGY. 


MARCH,  1806. 


^SSk 


FOR    THE  AJ^THOLOGY. 
caieiNAL    LETTKE8    YHox    svaoft. 


JVb.  8. 


PomBfio....Palaee  qf  Queen  Joan.,..Tomb  qf  Virgiitt..Grotto  qf  FomU/ios 


BsLOw  the  tafiiib  of  Kiaia  Is 
fituated  the  villagt  of  Posilipo. 
The  coontry  houses  here  are  a 
cod  retreat  during  the  heat  of 
sommer.  They  are  built  against 
the  hill  of  Posilipo,  composed  of 
tupa  and  volcanick  substances,  and 
their  wails  are  washed  by  the  wa^ 
tcrs  of  the  bay,  which  hcf  e,  flowing 
against  the  base  of  the  hill,  leaves 
no  room  for  a  carriage  way  beyond 
Posilipo  ;  afterwards  there  is  only 
a  narrow  footpath,  in  traversing 
which  the  passenger  is  often  wet 
by  the  spray.  Sir  William  Ham- 
flton  had  a  house  here,  where  he 
used  to  retire  and  enjoy  the  cool- 
ness of  the  evening.  They  are 
mere  occasional  dwellings  ;'  the 
tpBct  is  so  circtimscribed,that  there 
is  DO  room  for  gardens  ;  some  of 
them  liave  a  terrace  with  a  few 


ofthe  night  console  them  for  the 
lassitude  they  are  tortnented  witl^ 
during  the  fervid  heat  of  the  day* 
One  of  these  casinos  was  pointed  out 
to  me,  as  having  been,  a  short  time 
before,  the  residence  of  an  English 
nobleman,  whose  eccentricities  a- 
mused  theNeapolitans.  He  always 
dressed  in  the  most  effeminate  man- 
ner,the  neck  and  bosom  of  his  shirt 
edged  with  fine  lace  and  open  like 
a  child's.  He  dined  at  eight 
o'clock,  the  Italians  dine  at  two  ; 
and  making  his  servants  take  the 
lights,  he  would  go  and  work  in 
his  garden  by  candle  light. 

Close  by  Posilipo  the  ruined 
palace  of  Queen  Joan  projects  into 
the  bay.  This  was  the  spot,  in 
which  that  barbsux>us  queen  com« 
mitted  thoso  licentious  and  cniel 
acts  which  history  attributes  to  her. 
The  building  is  very  large,  and  not 
80  far  ruined,  as  to  prevent  be^ 
ing  repaired.  It  affords  shelter  to 
fishermen  and  their  boats.  While 
strolling  amid  its  ruins,  reflecting 
on  the  scenes  of  blood  and  licen* 
tiousness  which  had  formerly  been 
acted  within  its  walls,  the  sight  of 
a  fisherman,  coming  JFrom  some  of 
its  obscure  apartments,  started  me 
from  my  reverje,  as  though  I  had 
seen  one  of  the  ghosts  of  its  an- 
cknt  inhabitants. 

Below  Posilipo  arc  the  extensive 


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lU 


LETTERS   FROM  EUROPE^ 


ruins  of  the  villa  of  Luctillus.  It 
is  now  called  Scuola  di  Virgilio. 
From  these  ruins  is  one  of  the 
most  extensive  views  about  Na- 
ples. You  see  Vesuvius,  the  bay, 
the  islands  of  Capreac,  Ischia,  Pro- 
chyta,  cape  Misenus,  Baix,  Su:. 

There  is  a  winding  path,  be- 
tween the  Kiaja  and  Posilipo,which 
ascends  the  hill  to  some  houses 
and  a  church,  situated  near  its 
summit.  When  arrived  here,  a 
peasant  conducts  you  through  Helds 
of  vines  and  groves  of  fig  trees  to 
a  rude,  romantick  spot,  of  rather 
difficult  access,  and  points  you  .to  a 
little  ruin,  shadowed  by  trees,  and 
overgrown  with  wild  flowers  and 
ivy,  the  name  of  which  cannot  be 
mentioned  without  emotion.... how 
much  then  must  be  felt  in  seeing 
the  tomb  of  Virgil  !  The  lower 
part  is  of  a  square  form,  the  upper 
pait  conical.  In  the  inside  are 
some  remains  of  stucco.  There 
are  four  openings,  one  of  which  is 
quite  overgrown  with  bushes.  It 
is  built  on  the  edge  of  a  precipice, 
near  the  entrance  of  the  grotto, 
and  the  thick  growth  of  the  bushes 
prevented  my  seeing  the  carriages 
rolling  over  the  pavements  thirty 
or  forty  yards  below  my  feet  ;  the 
noise,  reverberating  in  the  grotto, 
led  me  to  discover  its  vicinity, 
though  I  could  not  see  it. 

Nothing  is  certain  ;  and  the  de- 
scendants of  that  being,  to  whom 
Apollo  gave  the  chaff,  have  exci- 
ted doubts  in  the  mind  of  the  clas- 
sick  pilgrim,  whether  this  is  the 
real  tomb  of  the  poet.  They  have 
ti'ied  to  prove,  that  his  ashes  repose 
on  the  other  side  of  the  bay.  The 
reasons  for  believing  this  to  be  his 
tomb  are  founded  on  constant  tra- 
dition, and  that  its  form  and  con- 
struction agree  with  the  descrip- 
tion given  by  Donato,  in  his  life  of 
Die  poet. 
Opposite  the  tomb  a  small  mar- 


ble slab  is  inserted  in  the  rock  with 
two  Latin  lines,  inscribed  to  the 
memory  of  Sannazaiius.  But,  ai 
Dupaty  observes,  "  a  rage  for 
antithesis"  has  led  the  author  to 
praise  him  so  extravagantly,  that 
we  deny  him  even  the  share  of 
merit  which  he  really  possessed. 
'  Nothing  can  exceed  the  beauty 
of  the  view  from  thb  place 
tlirough  the  branches  of  the  trees^ 
The  bay,  a  part  of  the  city,  the 
mountain,  and  the  coast  on  the  oth/- 
er  side,  are  partially  discovered. 

.^.I  must  endeavour  to  give  you 
some  idea  of  the  grotto  of  Posi- 
lipo,  one  of  the  most  extraordinary 
objects  around  Naples.  I  shall 
quote  you  its  history  from  a  short 
manuscript  work,  upon  the  an*- 
tiquities  of  Pozzuoli,  given  me  by 
an  Italian  gentleman.  <<  It  is  not 
certainly  known  at  what  time  this 
grotto  was  formed.  It  existed  in 
the  time  of  Augustus,  ^nce  Strabo, 
his  cotemporary,  speaks  of  it  dis- 
tinctly. Sonw  think  it  to  have  been 
the  work  of  LucuUus,  because  Plu- 
tarch,hisbiographer,says  one  of  his 
most  pleasing  employments  at  Na- 
ples was  to  pierce  thro'  mountains. 
This  grotto  was  very  narrow  in  the 
time  of  Alphonzo  I.  of  Arragon^ 
who  made  it  much  larger  at  each 
end  ;  and  after  this,  Don  Pedro  dl 
Toledo  paved  it,  and  left  it  in  its 
present  state." 

Turning  to  the  left,  after  passing 
the  suburb  of  Kiaja,  the  road  enters 
the  grotto,  cut  through  the  hill  of 
Posilipo  to  maintain  the  connection, 
without  passing  over  it,  between 
Baix,  Pozzuoli,  and  the  city.  The 
entrance  is  extremely  picturesque 
The  hill  being  cut  away  presents 
to  you  a  perpendicular  wall  a  hun- 
dred feet  high,  above  which  the 
summit  is  crowned  with  pines  and 
various  shrubs,  and  luxuriant  fes- 
toons of  ivy  are  hanging  dovm  the 
sides  of  the  rock    The  passage  i» 


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CHARACTZR   OF   RET.  »R.  HOWARB. 


!15 


about  thirty  feet  in  width  and 
nearly  a  hundred  in  height  at  each 
€nd,  in  order  to  admit  as  much 
fight  as  possible 9  but  it  slopes  away 
to  the  centre,  where  it  is  not  more 
than  eighteen  feet.  It  is  nearly  a 
mile  in  length  ;  and  at  the  entrance, 
%rheR  you  look  through  the  other 
aperture,  appears  diminished  al- 
most to  a  point,  like  the  effect  pro- 
daced  in  looking  through  an  in- 
verted telescope.  As  the  rays  of 
Hght,  admitted  at  the  extremities, 
would  not  reach  the  middle  of  the 
passage)  about  one  third  the  dis» 
tance  is  seen  by  an  opening,  m^ 
clining  upwsutis  about  thirty  feet 
above  the  entrance,  through  which 
a  firesh  supply  of  light  is  admitted 
to  the  centre.  Carriages  general* 
ly  go  provided  with  torches,  but  it 
,  is  difficult  to  drive,  as  the  distant 
light  dazzles  the  sight,  and  makes 
il  impossible  to  see  any  object, 
when  in  the  middle  of  the  grotto. 
The  first  time  I  passed  thro'  it 
I  was  in  a  chair  with  a  friend,  who 
fortunately  held  the  reins  ;  for  I 
could  have  paid  no  attention  to  th« 
horse.  My  admiration  was  excited 
by  the  romantick  appearance  of 
the  entrance*    The  %ht9  admitted 


at  the  other  extremity,  so  effectu- 
ally dazzled  my  eyes,  that  I  coukl 
not  see  the  carriages  which  were 
driving  rapidly  by  us,  much  less 
the  peasants  on  foot,  whose  hal- 
looings  were  blended  with  the  re- 
verberated noise  of  the  wheels  on 
the  pavements.  I  had  passed 
through  the  obscurity  of  the 
grotto  and  emerged  again  into  the 
open  air,  before  I  could  arrange 
my  sensations.  In  warm  weather 
the  coolness,  which  is  felt  imme- 
diately on  entering,  is  refreshing, 
and  the  passage  through  the  grotto 
becomes  very  pleasing.  There  are 
many  openings  on  each  side,  closed 
with  gates,  which  lead  into  exten- 
sive caverns,  formed  by  cutting 
stones  used  in  building.  In  one  of 
these  openings,to  wards  the  centre  of 
the  grotto,  a  hermit  has  his  gloomy 
cell,  and  there  passes  his  life,  con* 
templating  in  silence  a  skull,  by 
the  feeble  light  of  a  lamp.  The 
peasants  bestow  their  charity,  and 
receive  his  blessing ;  the  luxurious 
man  of  the  world  is  driven  by  his 
hermitage  with  velocity,  while  the 
noise  of  the  wheels  does  not  dis* 
turb  his  meditations. 


For  the  Aktholoot* 


CHARACTER 

Of 


REV,   DR.    HOWARD, 


Thb  distinguishing  feature  of 
Dr.  Howard's  character  was  good 
sense.  He  thought  with  aocuracy, 
and  reasoned  with  clearness.  This 
was  the  style  of  his  publick  dis- 
courses, which  were  always  solid 
and  judieious.  As  he  was  not 
gifted  by  nature  with  a  mellow  and 
harmonious  voice,  as  there  was  no 
frenzy  in  his  eye,  no  enthusiasm 
either  in  his  heart  or  head,  and  as 
he  had  no  proud  confidence  in  his 
own  elocution,  he  did  not  ac- 
l^re  the  repuUtion  oH  a  popvUar 


preacher.  But  there  was  not  any 
thing  offensive  in  his  delivery,  ar- 
tificial and  disgusting  in  his  tones  ; 
his  emphasis,  though  not  forcible^ 
was  just  ;  and  there  was  such  per- 
spicuity in  his  language,  so  much 
novelty  or  importance  in  his  ideas, 
that  he  seldom  &lled  to  command 
the  attention  of  an  auditory. 

Is  not  such  a  mode  of  preaching, 
on  the  whole,  the  most  useful  I 
The  admirers  of  eloquence,  who 
go  to  a  church  as  to  a  theatre,  for 
the  sake  of  having  their  passioiui 


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tl5 


CHARACTEa  BW  aSV.  B&.  HOWAaO. 


xnovedi  and  who  think  that  a  ser- 
mon  is  not  good,  unless  it  inspires 
them  either  with  mty  or  terroury 
will  condemn  the  discourses  of  Dr. 
Howard  as  cold  and  unaffecting. 
But  when  it  is  considered  of  what 
materials  christian  congregations 
»re  composedi  this  censure  will 
appear  unjust.  Those  who  attend 
publick  worship  are  commonly 
the  most  decent  and  virtuous  part 
of  the  communit]r.  They  are  pa* 
reaotSy  who  lead  to  the  house  of 
God  their  children,  whom  they 
have  trained  up  in  the  habits  of 
prder  and  decorum.  It  is  the  du^ 
ty  of  a  minister  to  confirm  such 
persons  in  the  good  practices, 
ivhich  they  have  already  learned, 
to  exhort  them  to  persevere  in 
them,  and  daily  to  make  new  im^ 
provements  in  virtue  ;  to  instruct 
the  young  in  the  obligations,  with 
which,  from  their  want  of  years 
fmd  experience,  they  are  not  yet 
|u:quainted,  and  to  point  out  to 
them  the  danger  of  yielding  to 
temptation  ;  to  fil)  the  minds  of 
the  hearers  in  general  with  adontr 
tion  and  gratitude  to  God,  the  au* 
thor  of  every  perfect  gift,  and  with 
respect  and  affection  to  Jesus, 
through  whom  we  receive  the 
phrisdan  religion  ;  and  to  warn  all 
to  prepare  for  death,  to  avoid  the 
punishments,  and  to  qualify  them* 
selves  for  the  happiness,  of  a  fu-' 
ture  world.  These  are  important 
and  interesting  themes  ;  but  to  disr 
play  them  with  advantage  it  is  not 
necessary  to  have  recourse  to  the 
language  of  passion,  or  vehement 
gesticulation.  A  different  senti-i 
inent,  it  is  confessed,  prevails 
among  many,  both  preachers  and 
liearers.  The  former  deal  in  bold 
figures  and  hyperbolical  descrip* 
tions.  They  address  a  congrega* 
tion  of  sober  christians,  as  if  they 
were  an  assembly  6f  heathens,  or 
a  band  of  thieves  and  murderers. 


Their  doctrine  descends  not  like 
the  dew,  but  like  the  rain  in 
a  storm  ;  their  voice  is  not  small 
and  soft,  but  it  rolls  like  thunder^ 
or  roars  like  a  whirlwind*  They 
paint  the  character  of  the  vicious 
man  with  blacker  strokes  of  de- 
pravity, than  those  with  which 
Milton  has  drawn  the  character  of 
Satan ;  and  they  represent  the 
Supreme  Being,  as  hating  the 
work  of  his  own  hand%  as  fired 
with  anger,  and  armed  with  ven^ 
geance.  The  hearers  listen  with 
admiration  of  the  wonderful  ora« 
torical  powers  of  the  speaker* 
Though  their  bosoms  are  agitated 
almost  to  agony,  yet  they  are  at 
the  same  time  charmed ;  for  there 
are  many  men,  who  are  never  so 
much  delighted,  as  when  objects 
of  terrour  are  by  luminous  and 
expressive  language  rendered  visi- 
ble to  their  eyes.  The  effect  of  sucli 
preaching  sometimes  is,  that  the 
hearers,their  mental  sight  being  ac- 
customed to  none  but  glowing  cel- 
ours,are  too  much  inclined  to  consi- 
der the  common  and  easential  duties 
of  life,  which  are  best  performed 
with  cfdmness  and  moderation,  as 
not  sufficiently  splendid  to  be  of 
any  value.  Religion  they  suppose 
to  be  something  more  than  humble 
reverence  of  God,  love  to  Christ, 
justice,  sincerity,  and  benevolence  j 
apd  it  is  never  so  highly  prized  by 
them,  as  whep  it  partakes  the  most 
largely  of  enthusiasm. 

To  such  an  impassioned  kind 
of  eloquence  the  temperate  Dr. 
Howard  could  not  attaiii  ;  and 
frofn  our  knowledge  of  his  senti- 
ments we  pan  say,  he  would  not 
have  attained  it,  if  he  could.  But 
though  he  was  never  fervent,  yet 
such  was  the  goodpess  of  his  heart 
and  his  affectiop  to  his  friends, 
that  he  was  sometimes  pathttick. 
We  particularly  recollect  two  oc» 
caaipna,  in  w|uch  tbe  auditories 


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•  RAKJiCTEa  or  EEV.  DR.  HOWARD. 


iir 


ffttt  much  moved  by  the  simt>le 
pftthos  of  his  voice  and  language. 
One  was  at  the  funeral  of  Rev.  Dr. 
Clarke,  whose  sudden  death  every 
one  bewailed.  The  other  was  at 
a  pablick  commencement^  when 
lus  long-tried  and  faithful  friend, 
the  firesident  of  the  university,  lay 
dangerously  sick.  On  both  these 
occasioDs,  diough  there  were  other 
performances,  and  by  men  y^o 
were  commonly  esteemed  more 
doquent  than  he,  yet  the  tide  of 
grief  rose  to  its  height,  whilst  he 
was  praying. 

This  effect  was  in  part  produced 
bf  the  unaffected  simplicity  of  his 
chancter.  When  Dr.  Howard 
appeared  to  be  moved,  every  per:* 
son  believed  that  he  was  reiedly 
moved.  Any  event,  which  so 
good  a  man  lamented,  was  a  sub^r 
ject  of  lamentation  to  all  good 
men  :  it  was  impossible  therefore 
to  resist  being  drawn  with  him 
into  the  same  current  of  grief. 
Sm^icity  distinguished  Pr.  How* 
ard  oQ  these,  and  pn  all  other  oc- 
casions. He  never  covered  his 
mind  with  the  vam|sh  of  art ;  he 
never  pretended  to  more  feeling, 
knowledge,  or  virtue,  than  he  pos:* 
teased  ;  but  w|th  manly  plainness 
be  exhibited  his  sentiments  and 
character,  such  as  they  existed. 

This  freedom  from  affectation 
was  probably  one  of  the  causes  of 
the  taciturnity ,which  was  regretted 
by  his  friends.  The  duke  de  la 
Bochefoucauh  observes,  that  nq 
man  ever  opens  his  moi^th,  unless 
prompted  by  vanity  ;  aiid  though 
we  do  not  entirely  assent  to  the  re« 
inarkf.^for  Rochefoucault  is  the 
litirist  of  human  nature,  and  dis* 
poacd  to  exaggerate  all  its  foibles 
«d  vices,...yet  we  arc  compelled 
to  grant,  that  niany  of  the  speeches 
which  we  hear  are  dictated  by 
noity  and  affectation.  Of  this 
tnith  Dr.  £[oward  was  scDsible ; 


and  this  led  him  often  to  be  silent. 
He  did  not  choose  to  speak  of  him* 
self ;  he  had  no  ambition  to  wotuid 
the  feelings  of  his  neighbour  b^ 
a  smart  reply  or  a  witty  sarcasm  9 
for  flattery  and  compliments,  eithef 
serious  or  sportive,  he  was  totally 
unqualified  by  his  sincerity  ;  hit 
exemption  from  prejudice  pre- 
vented him  from  railing  against 
the  opinions  of  otfiers,  because 
they  differed  from  his  own  ;  hi$ 
civility  rendered  him  unwilling,  by 
needless  contradiction,  to  offen4 
those  who  were  present ;  and  his 
prudence,  his  benevolence,  his  re? 
Ugion,  forbade  him  to  slander  the 
absent.  We  have  cut  off  so  many 
of  the  usual  topicks  of  conversa* 
tion,  that  few  are  left  for  the  candid 
Howard.  The  subjects,  which  he 
preferred,  were  science,  literature^ 
politicks,  morality,  and  theok)gy  ; 
and  when  he  spoke  on  them,  he 
was  listened  to  with  pleasure.  But 
he  was  not  always  grave  and  scif 
entifick  ;  for  he  sometimes  enliv- 
ened conversation  with  a  sprightly 
sally  ;  and  he  frequently  charmc4 
the  benevolent,  by  defending  the 
reputation  of  a  brother,  when  un* 
generously  attacked.  He  was  si« 
lent,  but  never  absent  in  company ; 
he  listened  with  attention  to  wha^ 
others  said  ;  and  a  pleasant  smile 
often  niarked  his  approbation  of 
the  observations  of  his  friendsf 
particularly  of  the  young,  who  ret 
quired  this  encouragement. 

Of  humility,  the  peculiar  virtue 
of  the  christian,  he  was  an  eminent 
example.  No  grace  of  the  mind 
is  so  often  affected  as  humility. 
There  are  men,  who,  under  the 
name  of  foibles,  accuse  themselves 
of  feelings,  which  they  secretly 
hope  every  one  will  regard  as 
amiable  weaknesses.  There  arc 
others,  who,  that  they  may  enjoy 
the  satisfaction  of  speaking  of 
themselves,     even    acknowledge 


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119 


tHAHACTER  OP  RET.  DR.  HOWARR. 


their  vices.  There  are  others, 
•who  humble  themselves  with  so 
;much  stateliness,  and  condescend 
with  so  much  dignity,  that  it  is 
manifest  that  they  think  them- 
selves supcriour  to  those  who  are 
in  their  presence.  In  fine  there 
arc  others,  who  write  long  jour- 
nals of  humility,  to  be  read  after 
their  death,  and  which,  though 
they  are  dictated  by  vanity  and 
egotism,  are  designed  to  possess 
the  minds  of  those  who  peruse 
tliem  with  an  exalted  idea  of  their 
sanctity  ;  for  they  confess  in  gen- 
eral terms,  that  they  are  the  vilest 
of  men  ;  whilst  they  are  careful 
not  to  specify  the  particular  acts 
of  folly,  meanness,  and  insincerity, 
which  are  known  to  their  contem* 
poraries.  The  humility  of  Dr. 
Howard  was  not  of  this  spurious 
sort ;  he  never  mentioned  either 
his  virtues  or  his  faults  ;  but  it 
was  evident  at  the  same  time  to 
ail,  who  were  intimately  acquaint- 
ed with  him,  that  he  had  a  humble 
sense  of  his  own  talents  and  mor- 
al attainments. 

His  humility  was  sincere  ;  and 
sincerity  was  the  soul  of  all  his 
virtues.  He  did  not  join  in  senti- 
ment with  those,  who  think  that  a 
good  cause  may  sometimes  be 
promoted  by  stratagems.  A  sub-  ' 
terfuge  and  deceit,  an  equivoca? 
tion  and  a  lie,  were  in  his  view 
equally  criminal.  For  the  sake 
bf  obtaining  the  approbation  of 
men,  and  promoting  his  worldly 
interest,  he  did  not  profess  .to 
esteem  what  he  really  despised. 

The  sincerity  and  uprightness 
of  his  mind  led  him  to  inquire  af- 
ter truth  with  diligence,  and  to 
pursue  it  with  impartiality.  The 
result  of  his  careful  investigation 
was,  that  he  saw  reason  to  reject 
the  theological  system  of  Calvin  ; 
pnd  though  at  the  time,  in  which 
be  entered  on  his  ministerial  life> 


the  religious  opinions  that  he  a- 
dopted  were  much  more  unpopu- 
lar than  they  are  at  present  ;  yet 
he  was  not  deterred  by  this  con- 
sideration from  openly  declaring 
what  he  believed.  The  creed 
which  he  thus  early  embraced,  he 
saw  no  cause  afterwards  to  change^ 
but  he  persevered  in  it  to  the  last. 
We  presume  not  to  say  that  he 
had  discovered  the  truth  ;  but  of 
tl.ii  we  have  not  any  doubt,  that, 
blessed  by  his  Maker  with  a  clear 
understandmg,  he  exerted  himself 
to  obtain  it,  with  industry  and  pa- 
tience, humility  and  devotion.  To 
those  who  are  disposed  to  appeal 
to  the  authority  of  intelligent  and 
virtuous  men,  in  support  of  their 
opinions,  the  authority  of  Dr. 
Howard  might  with  force  be  urg- 
ed. But  on  this  species  of  arguk 
ment,  which  is  seldom  brought 
forward,  except  by  those  who 
cannot  produce  any  better  proof, 
no  stress  ought  to  be  laid  ;  be- 
cause  experience  shows,....though, 
before  we  become  acquainted  with 
the  actual  state  of  human  life,  wo 
are  ready  to  suspect  the  contrary, 
....that  wise  and  good  men  are  not 
confined  to  any  particular  system 
of  religious  faith. 

The  candour  of  Dr.  Howard 
equalled  his  love  of  truth.  He  was 
not  only  indulgent  in  his  thoughts, 
and  tolerant  in  his  conduct,  toward 
those  who  differed  from  him  in 
opinion,  but  he  also  treated  them 
with  respect  and  kindness.  The 
religious  sentiments  of  christians, 
however  erroneous  tliey  might  be, 
and  their  ceremonies  and  modes 
of  worship,  however  superstitious 
they  might  appear,  he  maintained 
ought  always  to  be  treated  with 
decency  ;  and  he  neither  allowed 
in  himself,  nor  did  he  approve  in 
others,  a  sarcastick  and  irreverent 
way  of  speaking,  of  objects,  which 
any  sincere  believer  might  deepi^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


CHARACTER  Of  RJfcV.  ttH.  «OWAR»« 


U# 


ttcred.  For  this  Catholicism  he 
Was  entitled  to  great  praise  ;  be- 
cause the  temptations  to  an  oppo* 
lite  practice  are  Tery  powerful  ; 
ind  nothing  is  more  common  than 
to  hear  christians,  especially  those 
who  esteem  themselves  wiser  or 
more  holy  than  their  neighboursf 
charge  each  other  with  absurdity, 
wperstiticxi,  fanaticism,  or   hei> 

CSV- 

The  spirit  of  Dr.  Howard  ren- 
dered him  averse  to  such  unchar' 
kable  thoughts  ;  for  mildness 
reigned  in  his  heart.  Gentle  by 
nature,  by  habit,  and  by  religion, 
be  could  not  express  severity, 
which  he  never  felt  ;  gall  could 
lot  fiow  from  his  tongue,  for  there 
was  none  in  his  constitudon.  His 
temper  was  sweet  and  amiable  ; 
and  his  good  sense  forbade  him  to 
embitter  it  with  bigoted  and  ma- 
lignant invectives.  His  soul  was 
calm  ;  and  what  motive  had  he  to 
disturb  its  tranquillity  with  the  fu- 
nous  storms  of  uncharitable  zeal  ? 

This  well  regulated  temper  in- 
ipired  him  with  constant  cheerful- 
ness. Though  reserved,  he  was 
not  solemn  ;  though  serious,  not 
gloomy.  The  peace,  which  dwelt 
in  his  heart,  appeared  in  his  coun- 
lensDce,  in  traits  which  no  art  can 
counterfeit. 

That  such  a  man  was  dear  to 
his  friends  will  readily  be  believed  ; 
nd  he  was  so  friendly  in  his  dis- 
position and  behaviour,  that  many 
were  bound  to  him  by  this  afiec- 
iBonate  tie.  His  parishioners  lov- 
td  him  as  a  brother,  or  honoured 
him  as  a  father  :  for  they  knew, 
that  he  had  engaged  in  the  minis- 
try &om  pure,  disinterested,  and 
pious  motives  ;  that  he  discliarg- 
cd  all  its  duties  with  diligence  and 
fidelity  :  that  he  rejoiced  with 
them,  when  they    rejoiced,  and 


wept  with  them,  when  they  wept, 
The  affection,  which  they  felt  for 
him,  never  suffered  any  interrup- 
tion ;  but  as  old  age  approashed, 
and  he  advanced  toward  heaven,  he 
became  more  deeply  fixed  in  their 
hearts,  like  a  tree,  whose  roots  pen- 
etrate still  &rther  into  the  earth,  in 
proportion  as  its  branches  rise  in 
the  air.  He  was  dear  to  his  brethren 
in  the  ministry,  who  always  wel- 
comed him  with  smiles  of  compla- 
cence. He  was  dear  to  all  his 
fellow-citizens,  who  admired  his 
good  sense,  and  venerated  his  pat- 
riotism, his  integrity,  his  bevo- 
lence,  and  his  sanctity.  As  a  kind 
master,  a  tender  husband,  and  m 
most  indulgent  parent,  he  was  in 
particular  dear  to  his  family.  That 
he  was  dear  to  God  we  have  rea- 
son humbly  to  believe  ;  for  the 
character,  which  he  possessed^ 
must  have  been  formed  by  habit- 
ual devotion,  by  piety  which  filled 
his  heart,  and  whence,  as  from  a 
copious  fountain,  flowed  all  the 
virtues  which  he  practised. 

The  reader  will  learn  with  plea- 
sure, that  this  good  man  enjoyed 
as  much  felicity,  as  usually  falls  to 
the  lot  of  mortals.  His  days  were 
passed  with  usefulness,  an  approv- 
ing conscience,  and  the  blessing  of 
heaven  ;  and  though  he  was  some- 
times sick,  and  sometimes  afflict- 
ed, yet  tlie  edge  of  bodily  pain 
was  blunted  by  patience,  and  the- 
force  of  mental  anguish  was  weak-' 
ened  by  resignation.  A  constitu- 
tion naturally  delicate  was  pre- 
served to  old  age  by  Qare  and  tem- 
perance ;  and  to  a  world  of  un- 
mingled  joy  he  at  length  passed^ 
through  the  valley  of  death,  with- 
out experiencing  many  of  the 
horrours,  which  sometimes  over-: 
shadow  the  dismal  region* 


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190 


AK    S8SAY     OK     IIKTHO0. 


Wc  hope  ftdne  of  our  gty  retden,  mth  whoa  oicthod  and  diflaeit  are  almott  wjmoAbMon,  «tl 
be  detonred  by  Its  title  Aron  tile  foUowine  paper.  They  will,  we  think,  find  mich  of  that  itaa* 
tfo^ned,  nlaiilf ,  and  dlgniicd  tenae  which  we  aee  hi  the  phlloaophical  ^iMafi  of  «be  agaa  of 
Anne  and  the  fim  Oeoc|e»  whkh  aitithoili  and  uietafriior  h«T«  of  tots  •hooit  aaetsod* 
OdlBbaDWUof. 

jrOR    THE    JMTHOLOQY. 


Method  is  despised  hy  some* 
«nd  its  utility  exaggerated  by  oth* 
•rs.  Many  writers  consider  rulf* 
as  shackles  of  genius.  Others 
believe  them  a  great  assistance; 
but  they  choose  them  so  injudi- 
ciously, and  multiply  them  to  such 
excess,  that  they  render  them  use- 
less and  even  pernicious.  All  are 
equally  in  the  wrong  :  the  former 
for  undervaluing  method,  because 
they  are  noi  masters  of  a  good 
one  ;  the  latter  for  believing  it  ne- 
cessary, when  they  understand 
none  Uiat  is  not  very  defective. 

A  Work*  without  order,  may 
succeed  by  its  details,  and  place 
its  author  among  the  good  wri* 
ters  :  but  a  better  arrangement 
Would  render  it  more  worthy  of 
success.  In  matters  of  reasoning, 
it  is  impossible  that  the  light  should 
be  diffused  equally  over  all  the 
parts,  if  method  is  wanting  ;  in 
things  of  amusement,  at  leasts  it  is 
certain,  that  every  thing,  which  is 
not  in  its  place,  loses  some  part  of 
its  beauty.  But  without  loitering 
in  all  these  discussions,  let  us  de« 
fine  method,  and  the  necessity  of 
it  will  be'  demonstrated.  I  say 
then,  that  method  is  the  art  of  re- 
conciling the  greatest  perspicuity 
and  the  greatest  precision  with 
«11  the  beauties,  of  which  a  subject 
is  susceptible. 

There  are  writers,  who  know 
not  how  to  confine  themselves 
within  their  subject.  They  lose 
themselves  in  digressions  without 
number,  and  they  find  themselves 
again,  only  to  repeat  what  they 
4ad  said :  it  teems  as  if  thy  be- 


lieved, that  hy  rambles  and  tepeiW 
tions  they  might  supply  the  things 
which  they  know  not  how  to  say« 
Othets  change  their  style,  without 
consulting  the  nature  of  the  sub* 
ject  which  they  treat.  They  pique 
themselves  on  their  eloqu^K:ef 
when  they  ought  to  be  contented 
with  reasoning.  They  give  yoa 
an  analysis,  when  they  ou^ht  te 
give  a  description  ;  and  theu*  ima« 
gination  grows  hot  and  grows 
cold,  almost  always  in  the  wrong 
place. 

That  we  may  not  wanikr  in  the 
course  of  a  work,  and  that  w« 
may  say  every  thing  in  its  premier 
place  and  express  it  convenientlyt 
it  is  absolutely  necessary,  to  em* 
brace  our  object  in  a  general  view# 
Obscurity,  when  it  is  rare,  ^  may 
proceed  from  inadverta^ce  i  bttl 
when  it  b  frequent,  it  arises  certain* 
ly  from  the  confused  maimeTf 
in  which  we  «eiee  the  subject  of 
which  we  treat.  We  judge  Ddl 
weH  of  the  proportions  of  eac^ 
part,but  when  we  see  the  whole  at 
once. 

Poets  and  orators  early  felt  tii0 
utility  of  method.  Among  tliaiBi 
accordingly,  it  made  the  moat  nm 
pid  prog^ss.  They  had  the  ad* 
vantage  of  making  trials  of  their 
productions  upon  a  whole  people  t 
witnesses  of  the  impressions  tbef 
made,  they  had  opportunist  m 
observing  what  was  wanting  fai 
their  works. 

The  philosophers  had  not  the 
advantage  of  the  same  admom* 
tbns.  Thinking  it  below  them  tb 
write  for  the  muhitude,  they  made 


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h,  for  a  long  time,  a  duty  to  be  un-  that  unity  of  action  is  necessary^ 
intelligible.  Frequently  it  was  Other  observations  discovered  oth« 
nocbin^  more  than  a  fetch  of  their  er  nil  us,  and  the  poets  had,  con- 
cerning method,  ideas  so  exacts 
that  it  was  reserved  fdr  them  to 
give  lessons  to  the  philosophers. 

Although  their  rules  are  the 
fruit  of  experience  and  reflexion f 
some  writers  have  combatted 
them,  as  if  they  were  only  old  pre* 
judices.  They  have  thought  to 
establish  new  opinions  by  reviv* 
ing  the  errours  of  the  first  artists, 
and  restoring  the  arts  to  their  ori- 
ginal barbarity. 

It  is  not  to  render  service  to 
genius  to  disengage  it  from  sub- 
jection to  method.  It  is^  for  themy 
what  the  laws  are  to  a  freeman. 

Poems  will  please,  only  in  pro- 
portion as  these  rules  are  observed. 
If  we  find  attractions  in  episodes, 
it  is  because  each  of  them  is  one  ; 
and  by  consequence  separated 
from  the  work^  with  which  it  is 
not  connected,  has  its  beauty.  All 
together,  they  compose  a  poem  in 
which  are  beautiful  things,  but 
make  not  a  beautiful  poem  :  in 
fact,  if,  descending  from  details  to 
details,  we  perceive  not  unity  in 
any  part,  the  entire  work  will  be 
but  a  chaos.  All  the  parts,  then, 
ought  to  form  a  single  whole. 

The  rules  are  the  same  for  elo- 
quence ;  but  wliilc  experience  guid- 
ed the  orators  and  poets,  who  cul- 
tivated their  arts  without  affecting 
to  give  precepts,  the  philosophers 
wrote  in  a  method  which  they  had 
not  discovered,  and  of  which  they 
believed  they  ghve  the  first  les- 
sons. They  have  composed  trea* 
tises  on  rhetorick,  on  poetry,  and 
on  k>gick«  Without  being  poets 
or  orators,  they  have  known  the 
rules  of  poetry  and  eloquence,  be- 
cause they  have  sought  for  them 
in  models,  where  the  examples 
were  to  be  found.    If  they  had  been 


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IR^ 


AK  SfS^T'OR   SfSTRpD.^ 


possessed  early  of  ,  equal  models 
Qf  philosophy*  they  would  not 
have, been  so  slow  in  acquiring  the 
a/'t  of  re^uling.  It  is  because  they 
hs^ve  l)een.  deprived  of  this  aid, 
that  tliey  have  inserted  in  their 
logick  so  few  of  ^isefiil  things  and 
sp  many  subtilties.  i 

;  The  method,  wfhich  teaches  ^  to 
make  a  whole>  is  common  to  all  i 
kinds.  It  is,  above  all,  necessary . 
io  works  of  re^sonhig,;  for  the 
attention  diminishes  in  propprtion 
as  it  is  divided,  and  the  mind  seiz* 
es  nothing,  when  it  is  distra9ted 
by  too  great  a  number  of  objects. 

.  But, the  unity  of  action  in  works 
ipteuded  to  interest   us,  and  the 
unity  of  object  m   such  as    are/ 
composed  to  instruct  us,  equally 
demand,  that  all  the  parts  among 
themselves    should    be  in  exitct 
proportion,   and  that,  subordinate . 
the  one  to  the  others,  they  rels^te  ^ 
£^1  to  the  same  end.    By  this,  uni-, 
ty  brings  us  to  the  principle  of  the 
greatest  connexion  of  ideas  j  up- 
on this  it  depends.     In  truth,  this 
connexion  bemg  founJ,  the  begin- , 
lUBg,  the  end,  and  the  intern^edi- , 
ate  pwuts,.  are  determined  :  every , 
thing  which  ^terp  the  proportions 
i^  cut  off^  and  we  can  no  longer  i 
lop,  or, displace  any  thing,  without , 
iajury,  ^  the  connexion    or  the 
pleasurp^ 

.  To  discover  tliis    connexion  it , 
is  necessary  to  fix  our  object,  \m« . 
til  we  can  determine  the  principal 
parts  of  it,  and  comprehend  them, 
all  in  th^  general  dfvisictfi.    We 
must  avoid  divisions  merely  arbi- 
trary, and  even  prclimioary  divi-. 
sions,  by  which  we  decoiiipese  ai^T 
object  in  all  its  part^  ;  the  mind 
of  the  readeF  would  be  fat%ued 
from  the.  first    entrance  of  the 
T^rk  'r  things    which   would  be 
most  essential  to  him  to  retain*, 
would  ^e^ape  him,  aa4  th^precau^ 
tions,  which  the  author  should  have 


taken  to  makelirmself  understoedr 
would  often  render  him  uninteUi-* 
gible.  To  begin  by  dividons 
without  number,  to  make  a  ^at 
shew  of  method,  is  to  bewilder 
ourselves  ki  an  obscure  labyrinth 
in  order  to  arrive  at  the  light* 
Method  never  proclaim^  kself  less,, 
than  when  there  is  most  of  it. 

The  beginning  of  a  work,  then> 
cannot  be  too  simple,  nov  too  en- 
tbely  disengagedfrom  every  thing 
which  occasions  any  difficulty. 

The  general  division  being  madcr 
we  ought  to  search  for  the  order 
in  which  the  parts  contribute  the 
most  to  diffuse  upon  each  other* 
light  ^nd  attraction.  By  this,  aH 
will  be  in  the  greatest  coimcxionr 

Afterwards  each  part  should  be 
considered  in  paiticnlar^  and  suIk 
divided  as  often  as  it  includes  ob-^ 
jects,  eapb  of  which  can  constitute 
a  little  'whole.  Nothing  sbould.be 
admitted  into  these  subc^visions^ 
which  can  alter  the  unity  of  them> 
aitd  the  parts  kno^  no  other  order^ 
than  that  which  is  lindicated  by  a. 
gradation  the  mpst  obvious.  Iiv 
works  composed  to  interest  us,  it 
is  the  gradatioix  of.  sentim^it ;  in 
otliers  it  is.  the  gradation  of  en* 
dence.  But  to  conduct  ourselveft. 
surely,  ic  is  necessary  to  know  how 
to  choose  atndiigiour  ideas,  wbkJi 
preset  themselVes^ :  the  ehoice  i» 
necessary^  that  we  may  adopt  no-; 
thmg^  whick  continbutes  not  to  the 
strictest  oonnexiott  o(  ideas.  Ev^ 
ery  thing  that  is  not  attached  to 
the  subject  we  treai^  ought  to  be 
rejected ;  even  thmgs  wiiich  ha«ei 
sttme  coAnexjon  with  it,  desenroi 
not  alwayji  to  be  employed.  Xluik 
right  bekmga  only  to  those  thingsr 
which  caa  connect  themselves  ^ 
most  sensibly  t»  the  end  which  we. 
propose. 

The  subject,  and  the  end,  are 
the  two  points  x&  vieir^  whick 
ougHt  to  rebate  uoh.   Tbui^whca 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


AV  ESSAY  6V  MtTflOD- 


tsi 


ah  Id^  occurs,  we  have  to  consider 
whether,  bein^  connected  with  our 
subject,  it  developes  It  in  relation 
to  the  end,  for  which  we  treat  it ; 
and  whether  it  conducts  us  to  that 
end  by  the  shortest  course. 

In  taking  our  subject*  for  the 
bnly  fixed  point,  we  may  extend 
ourselves  indifferently  on  aH  sides. 
Then,  the  farther  we  raTt;ible,  the 
less  the  details,  among  which  our 
thoughts  wander,  have  relation  to 
ohe  another  ;  we  no  longer  know 
Where  we  are  to  stop,  and  we  ap- 
*pc9t  to  Undertake  sc\'eral  works, 
without  accomplishing  any.  But 
when  we  have,  for  a  second  poinV 
fixed,  an  end  well  determined, 
the  road  is  marked ;  every  step, 
cbhtiibutes  to  a  still  greater  devel- 
opement,  and  we  aniVb  at  th6  <k>ii« 
4p]||imoQ  without  having  ever  gone 
i>ut  of  our  way.  If  the  whole 
work  has  a  subject  and  an  end, 
every  chapter  has  equally  both  the 
Ane  and  the  other  ;  and  so  has  ev- 
cfjr  section,  tod  every  phrase.  It 
Is  the'rcforc  necessary  to  pursue 
the  satne  conduct  in  the  details. 
By  this",  thf  work  win  be  one  in 
ike  whole  ^nd  in  every  part,  and 
in  ^  be  in  the  greatest  posMble 
"ps&e^oti.  By  cdpforming  to  the 
^Ad^le  of  the  gitatest  connfex- 
Jhil^'t  work  win  be  reduced  to  the 
llp^ft^M  tititn&er  of  chapters,  the 
t  to  the  smallest  humber  of 
AS,  the  sections  to  the  small* 
er  of  periods,  and  the  pe* 
Sl'^^^'th^  smaUtst  number  of 

tare   aQ  objects  ilrc'con- 
^'thefotmauon  of  a  dngle 
Ra^'^TMsis'tlrei'eaaofajit  is  so 
""^d  tfe  to  p^  H^tj^  ftoxn 
Mfe  to  anothfef .  **  Wte  arc, 
f1^'  <Hir  greatek  Wtfctrt%ion^ 
E  66tiditfcted  hf  so  Ac  sort  of 
We  dt^ht  ttcfcfor0 
tly  io  '^fttdttvtf  doteelves^ 
1^  WO  msqr  not  go  put  of  the  sub- 


ject we  have  thosen.  It  is'neces- 
sary  to  give  so  much  more  atten- 
tion to  this,  beeaiise  always  in  com- 
bat with  ourselves  to  prescribe 
limits  and  to  overleap  them.  We 
think  ourselves  authoi4zed,  under 
the  smallest  j>retext,  in  our  gre^lt- 
est  departures.  It  often  seems, 
that  we  are  more  curious  to  she^ 
that  we  know  a  great  deal,  than  t« 
make  it  appear  we  know  well 
those  things  we  treat. 

Digressions  are  not  permitted, 
but  when  we  find  not  in  the  sub- 
ject, on  which  we  write,  material^ 
Jto  present  it  with  all  the  advantages 
*we  desire.  Then  we  look  else- 
where for  that,  which  it  does  not 
afford  ;  but  it  is  with  the  design 
to  return  to  it  soon,  and  with  the 
hope  of  diHTising  ofer  it  more  light 
and  ornament.  Digressions  and 
episodes  ought  not  therefore  ever 
to  make  us  forget  the  principal 
subjecL  They  roust  have  in  that 
subject  their  beginning,  their  end, 
and  they  must  incessantly  return 
to  it  A  good  wiiter  is  like  a  tra- 
veller, who  has  the  prudence  never 
to  quit  his  path,  except  to  entetr 
again  with  accommodations  prop- 
er to  enable  him  tp  continue  Jm 
journey  more  happily.  A  great 
.work  is  to  be  coasidened  like  a  dis- 
course of  a  few  pages,  or  periodsi; 
for  the  method  is  the  same  for  the 
one  and  the  other^  » 

We  tsAf  Iabour,on  the  diffcreht 
parts  of  af  work,  according  to  the 
*o«fer  in  which  we  have^stributcH 
them ';  and  li^e  may  also,  when  thj5 
ptoi  hW  -been  well  digested,  ^ss 
Ittdifitrently  from  the  commence- 
in^t  to  the  end,  or  to  the  middle, 
and,  instead  of  subjecting  ourselveis 
tb  any  order,  consult  only  the  im^ 
Imlse  or  inclination,l?bich  prompts 
im  to  seixe  themoirienti  in  which 
^  are  more  prcpaared  to  tareat  of 
tpne  part  than  another*        =    ^  - 1 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


lU 


THlb  KBMA&XEft. 


There  is  in  this  conduct  a  lib- 
erty, which  resembles,  without  be- 
ing a  disorder.  It  relaxes  the 
mind  by  presenting  to  it  objects 
always  different,  and  leafes  it  at 
liberty  to  resign  itself  to  all  its 
vivacity.  Nevertheless  the  subor- 
dination of  the  parts  fixes  the 
points  of  view,  which  prevent  or 
correct  all  digressions,  and  which 
recal  ua  continually  to  the  piinci- 
pal  object.  We  should  employ  all 
aur  address  to  regulate  the  mind, 
vithout  depriving  it  of  Its  liberty. 
Whatever  order  men  of  talents 
discover  in  their  works,  it  is  rare 


that  they  subject  themselves  to  it, 
when  they  study. 

It  remains  to  treat  of  the  differ* 
ent  kinds  of  works*  For  there  are 
three,  in  general ;  the  didactick, 
the  narration,  and  the  description : 
for  we  reason,  we  relate,  and  we 
describe.  In  the  didactick  we  lay 
down  questions  and  discuss  them  ; 
In  narration  we  expose  facts^  true 
or  imaginary,  which  comprehends 
history,  romance,  and  poems  :  In 
description  we  paint  what  we  see, 
and  what  we  feel,  which  belongs 
particularly  to  the  orator  and  to 
the  poet. 


fOR     THE    AJ^THOLOGY. 
REllllARKER. 


Ab.  r. 


e.«i 


Trbre  is  a  word  on  every  one's 
tongue,  to  limit  the  meaning  of 
which  however,  by  an  indisputable 
definition,  seems  scarcely  less  dif- 
ficult, than  to  "  tell  you  where 
fancy's  bred.**  It  is  ta^c  ;...6ome- 
thing  about  which  every  one  talks, 
because  nobody  is  willing;  to  be- 
lieve he  is  ignorant  of  what  all  the 
rest  of  the  world  knows.  Yet, 
'When  curiously  examined,  it  ap- 
pears to  be  something  so  aerial  and 
volatile  in  its  nature,  ihat  it  can 
scarcely  be  grasped  by  the  meta* 
physician,  and  which,  at  the  sight 
of  the  chains  of  logick, 
•prcadi  lit  Ilglit  wln^  tnd  ia  a  mofncat  pick 

The  principles  by  which  it  is 
regulated  ar?  Ulippoacd  to  be  ai  va- 
riable, aa  its  nature  is  mysterious. 
Not  <^ly  does  the  taste  of  every 
age  apparently  differ  ;  but  }^  pvr 
ery  nation  of  the  sfune  ^^,  and  I 
had  almost  said  in  every  individual 
of  the  same  nation,  does  this  Pro- 
teus assume  new  ibrms,  and  frol- 
ick  in  new  caprices.  That  taste 
bas  AQ  law  is  commonly  supposed 
to  be  on^  of  |;hose  universal  aofl 


wMlmdim  FnU^mtitf  Hoa.  / 

indisputable  truths,  which,  like  the 
maxims  of  the  schools,  must  e- 
qually  silence  the  cavils  of  the  ig- 
norant and  the  wise. 

Still,  however^  there  are  some 
difiiculties  attending  the  common 
opinion  of  the  mutability  of  tastet 
which  seem  to  me  almost  to  make 
heresy  pardonable.  We  believct 
after  all,  that  taste  is  a  woixl  of 
some  significance.  We  even  as- 
cribe to  its  influence  ail  that  is 
beautiful  and  lovely  in  art^  and  tl  o' 
its  nature,  like  the  musick  of  Aii- 
el,  is  unseen  and  incomprehcnsi** 
ble,  yet  we  cannot  forbear  to  hear 
its  harmony  above  and  around  us. 

But  if  (he  opinion  we  mention  is 
correct,  these  conclusions  are  all 
fallacious.  If  taste  be  thus  lawless 
and  capricious,  he,  who  calls  hinir 
self  the  man  of  taste,  has  little  cause 
pf  self  complacency.  Hisassump- 
tiop  pf  some  fixed  principles  of 
judgfnent  is  perfectly  gratuitous  ; 
apd  if  we  refuse  to  concede  them, 
there  are  no  statutes  oF reasoning 
on  which  he  can  extort  our  belief. 
T9  ta)k  of  th^  capons  of  criucisn^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


THE  KZlf  AUKXH. 


|3S 


0k  this  suppodtton,  is  unmeaning 
and  ridiculous  ;  for  what  is  the  val- 
ue of  piinciples,  the  application 
of  which  depend  on  something 
which  is  thus  arbitrary  and  muta- 
bk  ?  The  critick,  if  there  is  no 
ftandard  of  taste,  is  only  the  legis- 
lator of  caprice,  and  the  lord 
i^haocellor  of  whim.  The  praise, 
which  he  and  the  world  give 
to  the  writings,  which  taste  has 
embalmed  and  consecrated,  is  pue- 
rile and  groundless  ;  our  admira- 
doD  is  all  traditionary  and  inherit- 
ed,  and  we  only  repeat  raptures 
already  a  thousand  years  old. 

To  say,  however,  there  exists  no 
standard  of  taste,  seems  little  less 
than  to  affirm,  that  there  are  no 
common  feelings  in  our  nature,and 
nothing  similar  in  the  construction 
of  our  minds.  ,  It  does  not  require 
much  philosophy  to  perceive,  that 
beauty  exists  in  the  mind,  and  not 
in  the  object  of  its  contemplation. 
It  b  then  obvious  that,as  the  grand 
and  prominent  appearances  of  ex- 
temal  nature  do  not  change,  if 
there  were  an  essential  diversity 
in  our  relish  for  them,  it  could  a- 
rise  only  from  the  variety  and  mu- 
tabilicy  of  our  perceptions.  But 
the  rose  is  as  sweet  to  you  as  to 
me.  We  differ  not  in  our  wonder 
at  what  is  sublime,  or  our  delight 
in  what  is  beautiful  in  nature  ; 
though  there  is  not  equality  in  our 
ktilmgMf  there  b  no  dbcordance. 
If  dioi  ^f  pleas- 

ure sre  unequal, 

we  must  oeueve,  mai  there  are 
tooie  common  principles  of  judg- 
ing of  the  perfection  of  those  arts, 
wincil  profess  to  imitate  the  obf- 

KttuX  produce  our  perceptions. 
J  grant  any  identity  in  the  for* 
BadoD  of  our  minds,  can  we  for- 
bear to  conclude,  that  mankbd 
most  retain  these  principles  as 
loog  1^  pature,  which  it  19  t)ie 


province  of  poetry  and  painting  to 
depicture,  and  the  passions,  which 
it  is  their  province  to  analyze  and 
unfold,  remain  invariable  and  the 
same  ? 

But  this  conclusion  is  not  mere- 
ly authorized  by  speculation.  It 
b  only  on  the  supposition  of  a 
standard  of  taste,  that  we  can  ac- 
count for  the  £act,  that  there  are 
principles  of  judging,  which  have 
continued  permanent  and  estab- 
lished. The  origin  of  these  prin- 
ciples will  not  account  for  it,  for 
that  is  just  what  we  should  sup- 
pose it  would  be  on  the  tiieory 
we  advocate.  La  g6nie,  says  La 
Harpe,  a  considere  la  nature,  & 
Tembellie  en  I'imitant,  des  esprits 
observateurs  out  considere  le  g6n- 
ie,  &  out  devoile  par  analyse  le  se- 
cret  de  dcs  merveilles.  That  wc 
should  acquiesce  in  tiie  principles 
thus  collected,  that  the  decisions 
of  criticism  in  one  age  should  be 
submitted  to  and  affirmed  in  another 
cr,  b  surely  inconsistent,  with  any 
other  supposition,  than  that  thef 
are  founded  on  the  constitution  of 
our  common  nature.  It  b  unnecr 
essary  to  attempt  to  prove  that 
there  is  such  acquiscence,  for  whp 
will  deny,  that  Longinus.and  Quin- 
tiiian  are  arbiters  of  elegance  now. 
equally  as  among  the  ancients,  and 
that  whatever  was  sublime  or  beai^« 
tiful  to  them  continues  so  to  us. 

It  is  however  in  taste,  as  it  is,  in 
some  degree,  in  i^iorals  ;  though 
its  general  and  essential  principles 
are  immutable  and  unquestionable^ 
vet  their  application  to  individu4 
mstances  is  not  a  little  fluctuating. 
We  shall  accordingly  be  told  of  th^ 
opposing  sentiments,  and  still  ag- 
itated controversies  among  men  of 
taste  ;  and  that  deep  fixed  as  these 
principles  may  be,  they  do  not  sc* 
cure  even  criticks  from  deceptiot). 
We  8ha)l  be  tpld  gf  t)ic  su<;ceas  9( 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


iih 


TltB   R^if ARKC&: 


iU^  Ibrgery  of  Sigoniire,*  and  re- 
ihihded  that  a  boy  of  eighteen,!  in 
the  eig^hteenth  century,  when  the 
Idolatry  of  Shakespeare  was  at  it^ 
height,  successfully  imposed  Vor* 
ligern  on  Parr  and  half  the  En- 
gli&Ii  nation,  as  a  genuine  relick  of 
the  bard  of  Avon.  If,  indeed,  in 
the  days  of  Cicero,  they  disputed 
on  the  nature  of  Atticism,  and  the 
orator  was  accused  of  a  style  vitia- 
ted and  Asiatick  ;  if  Seneca  and 
Tacitus  arc  pronounced  the  cor- 
niptors  of  Roman  taste,  and  Fon- 
fenelle  in  France,  and  Johnson  and 
Gibbon  in  England,  receive  a  sini- 
Har  sentence  from  criiicks  of  no 
▼tilgar  rank,  he  must  be  a  strong- 
Herved  controversialist,  who  will 
issert  that  the  philosophy  of  taste 
Ss  completely  understood.  Still, 
because  their  application  is  not  un« 
isrring,  it  is  no  proof  that  principles 
are  not  fixed,  and  if  this  diversity 
can  be  accounted  for,  tlie  theory 
irill  remain  unshaken. 

The  Common  nodon  of  the  na- 
ture of  taste,  that  it  is  an  ong;inal 
knd  distinct  faculty,  or  rather  a 
certain  indefinable  instinct,  which 
discriminates  by  feeling  and  de- 
cides by  impulse,  is  not  perhaps 
¥cry  philosophical.  >Ve  will  not 
lindertake  to  puzzle  our  readers 
and  ourselves  with  a  metaphysical 
refutation  of  the  opinion  from  the 
ponstiuction  and  laws  of  the  mind. 
The  palpable  ^ct,   th^t  taste  is 

Siatured  and  perfected  by  expe? 
ence,  as  it  accounts  for  the  pro- 
duction of  it  on  principles  exactly 
analogous  to  that  of  all  the  other 
powers  of  the  mind,  Js  of  itself 
aufRcient. 

The  fact,which  is  here  assumed^ 
^li  I  presume  be  conceded,  but, 
to  destroy  the  possibility  of  doubt, 
I  win  produce  a  proof  as  decisive 

'  «  The  zxkthOr  dt  the  tract,  De  CoixtAlaflone, 
fM»""T  printed  among  the  worU  of  Cicero. 


.  as  it  is  indisputable.  Sir  Jbs^tii 
Reynolds*  relates*of  himself,  ;hat 
at  his  first  visit  to  the  Vatican  he 
walked  about  it  for  a  long  time. 
Surveying  with  delight  the  variou* 
paintings  which  adotn^d  it  ^  tiJl 
at  length,  after  he  had  been  fa- 
tigued by  the  toil  of  admiration; 
he  inquired  of  his  guide  for  the 
works  of  Ragaclle,  and  was  coollj 
informed,  that  the  first  paintings 
he  had  been  shown,  and  wliich  he 
had  passed  by,  almost  without  ex- 
amination, were  the  works  of  that 
surpassing  genius,  who  is  to  An- 
gelo  what  Virgil  is  to  Homer.  /  He 
adds,  that  he  was  by  no  means  in- 
duced to  dispute  the  justice  of  the 
sentence,  which  had  so  long  given 
Raffaelle  his  rank  ;  but  suspect- 
ing his  own  judgment,  he  sat  down 
to  the  study  of  his  works,  and  at 
length  disciplined  his  mind  to  ac* 
quiescence  in   the   decision. 

If  it  be  granted  then  that  taste 
is  factitious,  it  is  placed  on  the 
same  foundation,  as  the  other  facul- 
ties of  the  mind,  and  the  varieties 
of  taste  are  to  be  explained  on  pre- 
cisely the  same  principles,  as  the 
varieties  of  reason  and  judgment. 
We  might  as  well  say,  that  morals 
are  baseless  an4  fortuitous, because 
men  dispute  on  them,  as  to  say, 
that  taste  has  no  laws,  because  all 
do  npt  assent  to  them.  Indeed  we 
have  here  a  foundation  for  what, 
after  all,  we  find  true  in  fact,  for 
greater  permanency  in  the  decis« 
ions  of  taste,  when  once  made,  than 
in  those  of  reason  a|id  judgment. 
For  the  passions,  pn  the  delinea-i 
tion  and"  colouring  pf  which  so 
much  of  the  influence  of  poetry 
and  elegance  depends,  are  infinite* 
ly  less  variable  in  their  operations, 
than  the  judgment  and  reason.  W  q 
accordingly  6nd,that  while  systems 

•  Life  hj  Malone.     Ttils  account  b  quoted 
from  memory,  but  b,  I  believe,  fubtUaUaDf 


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«v-rf-  ^ 


ff  recop4ipf  science  fade  away  and 
are  forgotten^  >the  language  of  na- 
ture and  of  passion  is  eternally  the 
same.  The  philosophical  theories 
Qf  the  ancients  are  now  neglected, 
©r  regarded  only  for  the  beauties 
9f  the  style  in  which  they  are  con- 
'^/sjed  ;  but  their  poetry  and  ele- 
^u^Qce  sti}l  find  an  echo  in  every 
^ttast,  tl^  creations  of  their  fancy 
1^  still  warm  and  breathing  with 
life,  still  sparkling  and  ruddy  with 
^dec^ying  youth. 
jt  It  would  be  easy  to  enumerate 
iMDe  of  the  secondary  causes  of 
the  diversities  of  taste,  such  as  the 
dififerent  degrees  of  original  sensi- 
iHUtyi  and  U)e  accidental  associa- 
%^  of  peculiar  situations.  But  I 
kllt^S9iFt^Spt;JiUi  Rcmarker  is  al^ 
TtJUir t^MTp^^Wi  suspected  of  be- 
IWbMke]?  l^vig'breQthed  ;  ^  and 
^me  of  our  Juveo^la  will  begm  to 
cxdaim  i^gaiost  this  indefatigable 
4esceQdant  of'Orestea.  l>et  me 
^y  observe,  that  I  an>  far  from 
^^lteI]4ing  f^r  s^  standard  so  rig- 


orously limited,  as  to  exclude  f con 

the  list  of  fine  writers  Seneca  oij 
Tacitus,  Fontenelle  or  Gibbon  j^ 
still  less  for  one  which  \vould  es^ 
^lude  any  fcUchy  of  ii^vention,  or 
frolick  of  fancy,  because  it  deparu^ 
from  its  laws,  or  which  would  c^n^ 
onize  feebleness  and  triviality,  ^^ 
cause  they  do  not  offend  them.  Tho 
fine  arts  iiave  some  beauties,  &uc^ 
i^s  the  French  call  Jine^aesy  which,f 
fron>  accidental  circumstances,  arq 
more  or  less  praised  in  difierent 
ages,  but  their  grand  and  essential 
beauties  are,  I  believe^  regi^lated 
by  law^,  as  invariable  as  nature  it-', 
self.-r-To  me  this  is  not  merely  ^ 
question  of  curious  speculation  ; 
for  if  I  doubted  the  existence  of  ^ 
standard  of  taste,  I  should  lose^ 
^uch  glow  while  I  read,  apd  alJ| 
trembling  when  I  write ;  I  ahoul^ 
Ipse  too,  while  I  meditate  the  grea^, 
Qiastera  of  taste,  ^U  tl^^  C9inp}a* 
cency,  wli^ch  arises  frp^  |hc  whif*. 
per  of  vanity,  that  I  may  hereafter 
be  worthy  to  prai^  thei^. 


FOR    THE  4J^TH0L0GY, 
SILVA. 

Ufmft  Uder  vartai  nutrttttr  Sifjrs  coiymtiatm^.tloH0 


M.  U. 


StrltKS   AND   BLOOMFIKLD. 

Tbxsb  two  poets  appeared  near-* 
If  at  the  same  tkne.  Both  com-' 
toed  tlie  dkadyantagcs  of  low 
VMh  and  the  want  of  'educatioi^ ; 
flSd  tha  p«wers'of  both  expanded 
vnssisted  by  the  genial  warmth  of 
pitnma^  tttl  they  exeited  the  at^ 
teMion,«a)dpiit>curedtiie  ^tout  oi 
tJie  publickv  But  here  ^he  resem-^ 
Uaoce  ceastfSi  Bkx>mfiekl  bias  al-< 
ieady.oudiv«d  hi6  repQtatk)n  ;  but 
ll»  rawtatioD  ofii  B^vn*  «till  in^ 
ereaaed,  thougk  hn  wa^bhntelf  the 
eaose  of  Im  miierablei  end.  His 
geoniSyfdU  of  ftre  and  feeling,  made 
m  forger  hb  ftnble^  We  thought 
enly  oiwtlieVitii  ef  M  .we  rtunesiw 


bered  the  man,  it  was  to  fegreC^ 
that  fortune  had  not  been  moroii 
prot)itious,  and  saved. ham  from 
those  temptadohs,  which  he  wbh 
unable  to  reakt.^  The  adirocotea 
of  Bloomfield  advance,  that  the 
narrow  cell  of  a  cobler's  st^ll  i^  leae 
propitious  to  theexpansion  of  ge^ 
nlus,  than  the  open  fields,  where 
the  mind  is  easily  di^wn  by  (he 
beauties  of  natuxe  t^  leave  tfav 
plough)  and  walk  in  her  fiowefyt 
peiths*^  vfiiut  hifi  poems  exhibit  Mf 
proof  ef  a  mind  eqqal  ta  condeiv*4 
in^  tbotfe  beauties,  which  abpmid 
in  Burds.^  The  applause  of  ))i» 
fellow  apprentu^s  for  «  few  happ^ 
i^mee  might  qasily  iead  ;idDa  t» 


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lit 


«ilVa. 


rf?c  his  leisure  moments  to  writ- 
ing verses  ;  and  without  possess- 
ing that  genius^  of  whose  power 
We  hear  so  much,  and  see  so  little, 
he  might  produce  a  poem,  which, 
considering  the  disadvantages  un- 
der which  he  laboured^  would  pro- 
duce surprise.  The  hand  of  pat- 
ronage would  be  extended  J>y  those, 
who  are  desirous  to  bring  forward 
talents  and  merit  ;  and  the  voice  of 
criticism  would  be  silenced  by  a 
reference  to  his  former  circum- 
stances. But  comparative  merit 
cannot  be  allowed  in  the  republick 
of  letters.  Authors  must  be  final- 
ly judged  by  their  works  alone. 
The  few  beauties,  which  we  find 
in  Bloomfield)  cannot  palliate  his 
feults.  A  momentary  gleam  may 
burst  through  the  thick  darkness  ; 
.  but  the  prospect  is  gloomy,  and  we 
are  eager  to  quit  the  dreary  scene. 
Should  his  genius  be  as  prolifick 
ILS  was  Rhea,  Saturn  is  as  insatia- 
ble as  ever  to  destroy  the  off- 
spring as  soon  as  bom  ;  and  no  de- 
ceit will  now  save  a  favourite  pro- 
duction from  his  ruthless,  tooth. 
The  genius  of  Burns  struggled 
agahftt.  paverty  and  the  insolence 
of  petty  office  ;  but  rose  superiour 
to  every  obstacle.  We  labour 
^h  pleasure  through  a  barbarous 
glossary,  that  we  may  fully  relish 
bis  beautie*:.  We  learn  his  lan- 
guage and  become  his  country- 
man, that  we  may  enjoy  the  inno- 
cent pleasures  of  the  cotter's  Sat- 
utdAj  night. 

HUDIBRAS. 

The  excellence  of  thb  work  is 
BO  longer  questioned.  The  seal 
of  merit  hals  been  affixed  to  it  by 
the  hand  of  time  ;  and  few  are  so 
hardy,  as  to  question  his  decrees. 
Every  one  would  be  thought 
acquainted  with  it,  yet  I  doubt, 
wt^ether  it  ever  produced  suffi- 
«ientiaterest  to  spoil  a  dinner  for 


its  greatest  admiref «    Tbmi^h  fbtf 
of  the  flashings  of  genius,  and  the 
observations  of  an  acute  under- 
standing, it  wants  interest  to  keep 
attention  alive«      The  novelty  of 
language    soon    wears  off.     The 
unexpected  resemblance  between 
dissimilar  objects^  and  the  peculiar 
mode  of  viewing  them,  at  first  de- 
lights, but  soon  fiitigues  ;  and  we 
look  in  vain  for  incidents,  upoftr 
which  to  rest  our  wearied  imagin- 
ation.     We  find  ourselves  lost  m 
a  wilderness  of  flowers  ;  and  when 
satiated  with  admiring  their  singu- 
lar form^  and  varied  tintsi  we  re- 
flect, that  we  are  not    trancing 
towards  the  end  of  our  loumef  ; 
our  guide,  instead  of  relieving  ua 
by  pointing  out  the  object,  to  which 
we  should  be  advancing,  only  pre- 
sents us    with  a   fresh  nosegay. 
This  want  of  interest  can  but  in 
part  be  attributed  to  the  local  sub- 
ject of  the  work.     The  satires  of 
Swift  and  Pope  afford  us   great 
pleasure  in  the  perusal,  though 
Dennis  and  Wood  are  known  to 
us  but  from  these  authors.    And 
though  the  characters  of  the  En- 
glish revolutio|i  are  uncommon^ 
and  such  as  are  rarely  exhibited 
upon  the  theatre  of  the    world, 
yet  the  same  desire  of  overtumng^ 
•very  thing  established  by  age  ltd 
the  French  to  imitate  the  English 
in  their  revolution  ;  and  when  ev- 
ery thing  of  importance  had  been 
overthrown,  to  turn  their  seal  to 
things  of  no  consequence.    We 
therefi>re  find  many  observations 
in  Hudibras,  which  may  with  pro- 
priety be  applied  to  the  scenes* 
that  have  lately  been  exhibited  id. 
France.    Much  therefore  ofth» 
want  of  interest  in  this  poem  my0Lt 
be  attributed  to  iu  radical  defect 
paucity  of  incidents  and  to  its  be- 
ing unconnected.    The  judgment » 
of  Johnson  has  corrected  the  critic, 
cism  of  Dryden^  wba  thought  the^ 


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fitiVA^ 


\i9 


work  would  have  been  improved 
by  beroick  metre.  But  it  may 
still  remain  a  doubt,  whether  the 
same  talents  and  judgment  differ- 
ently employed  might  not  have 
produced  a  more  interesting  pic*' 
turc  of  the  manners  and  conduct 
q{  the  ^uiaticka  of  the  English 
revolution. 

IMITATION   OF   HUDIBRAS. 

JoHKsoM  says  in  his  life  of  But-* 
Icr,  «  Nor  even  should  another* 
BuUer  arise,  would  another  Hu- 
dibras  obtain  the  same  regard." 
But  neither  this  prediction,  nor 
the  £ite  of  all  their  predecessors 
lost  in  the  same  path,  can  deter 
many  from  seeking  immortality 
by  following  the  same  footsteps^ 
Without  possessing  the  genius  of 
l^utler,  which  illumbies  every  page 
of  his  works,  his  imitators  assume 
his  dress,  and  think,  tmder  the 
name  of  tiudibrastick  verse,  they 
may  conceal  poverty  of  thought 
and  grossness  of  language.  But 
as  it  is  easy  to  ape  the  trifling  pc 
culiarities  of  great  men,  it  should 
be  remembered,  that,  as  great 
qualities  seem  more  conspicuous 
by  the  neglect  of  trifles,  every 
thing  is  wanting,  where  those 
qualities  are  not  to  be  found.  The 
paintings  of  genius  will  attract  ad- 
miration, whether  they  modestly 
display  their  beauties  in  simple 
colours,  or  are  tricked  off  in  a 
court  dress  ;  but  a  splendid  frame 
must  draw  the  eye  of  observation 
from  a  mere  daub.  Familiar  lan^ 
l^age^  neglected  verse,  and  low 
imagery,  are  not  sufficient  to  bring 
to  our  minds  the  muse  of  Butler. 
We  may  without  effort  be  induced 
to  glide  down  the  sileiit  stream  of 
modem  poetry,  where  we  are  only 
guided  by  industrious  imitation. 
But  over  a  rugged  road  some  su- 
periour  power  must  lead  us,  or  we 

Vol.  in.  No.  3.        R 


shall  not  be  induced  to  follow- 
This  mode  of  writing  may  be  suc-^ 
cessfully  used,  where  we  "mean  to 
satirize  on  objects  tnean  alid  tem«» 
porary*  We  may  caricature, 
though  we  can  hardly  draw  a  pic-* 
ture,  in  Hudibrastick  verse.  The 
passing  follies  of  the  hour  may  be 
ridiculed  in  this  verse  i  and  we  are 
pleased  to  see  an  author  succeed 
in  holding  up  to  derision  in  it  cha-' 
racters  who,  with  the  bad  princi-» 
pies  of  the  day,  endanger  our  civil 
and  political  safety.  But,  not  con-» 
tent  with  rendering  to  Caesar  the 
things  that  are  Casar^s,  many  of 
our  criticks,  with  more  patriotism 
than  judgnfient,  so  surcharge  with 
flattery  every  American  publican 
tion,  as  to  disgUst  even  our  vitia-« 
ted  palates.  We  were  led  to  this 
remark  by  lately  seeing  in  our  pa- 
pers a  selection  frotn  the  Port  Fo- 
lio upon  Detnocracy  Unveiled  ;  in 
which  Mr.  Fessenden  is  ranked 
before  ButJcr,  and  has  Churchill 
and  the  first  English  satirists  pla- 
ced by  his  side.  We  could  not  but 
regret,  that  so  useful  an  author, 
and  one  who  has  afforded  us  so 
much  pleasure,  should  thus  have 
his  feelings  injured  by  injudicious 
praise.  He  seetns  not  to  have  cast^ 
a  look  at  imtnortality  ;  but  to  have 
been  content  with  having  merited 
the  applause  of  his  country,  and 
of  his  own  heart,  for  promoting 
the  cause  of  virtue  and  of  good 
government. 

ySMALE    EDUCATiOir. 

Could  one  of  our  pious  ances- 
tors, who  first  landed  on  these 
shores,  by  somd  magkk  spell  be 
raised  from  the  grave,  where  he 
had  reposed  for  years,  his  aston- 
ishment, at  the  present  manners  of 
our  lacUcs,  would  no  doUbt  be  very 
great.  He  would  no  longer,  as  in 
his  day,  find  ladies  employed  in 


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130 


SlLVAr 


domestick  occnpations,  in  the  ar- 
rangement of  the  household,  in 
heedle  ^ovk,  &c.  but  he  would 
find  the  use  of  the  distatt*  almost 
tin  known  to  them,  and  that  the 
knowledge  of  fashions  had  suc- 
ceeded to  the  knowledge  of  domes- 
tick  economy.  Should  he  exam- 
ine, whether  they  had  acquired  the 
accomplishments,  to  which  they 
boast  tiicir  time  had  been  devoted, 
Le  would  find  their  knowledge  of 
musick  sufficient  to  make  them 
unwilling  to  play,  but  in  the  par- 
tial hearing  of  thoiy  own  family  ; 
he  w^ould  sec  them  fond  of  danc- 
ft)g,  but  unable  to  move  with 
grace  ;  pleased  with  poetry,  but 
confining  their  admiration  to  the 
daily  effusions  of  the  newspapers  ; 
io  eni^ptured  with  romance,  as  to 
devour  every  novel  placed  before 
tlicm  ;  making  perhaps  an  unu- 
sual effort  to  paint,  and  producing 
ivhat  is  deemed  exquiwte  by  them- 
selves and  firiends,  becatise  at  the 
first  view  any  one  may  know  for 
"What  it  was  designed  ;  discarding 
the  decent  dress  of  thcii^  ancestors 
for  ridiculous  fashions,  imponed 
from  abroad  ;  and  much  more  at- 
tentive at  the  playhouse,  than  at 
church-  With  such  a  picture  be- 
fore him,  he  might,  without  being 
deemed  a  skeptJck,  doubt  the 
boasted  superiority  of  our  present 
mailners  ;  whether  the  solid  qual- 
ities of  his  day  had  not  been  ex- 
changed for  mere  tinsel  to  catch 
the  eye  ;  and  wliether  women 
■were  now  more  useful  members 
of  the  community,  than  fbrmerty. 
Should  he  then  observe  our  morals, 
which  were  formerly  preserved  by 
strictness  of  authority,  now  left 
exposed  to  tlie  rude  buffets  of  the 
world,  without  one  established 
principle  to  guide  them  amid  the 
quicksands  of  passion,  or  to  guard 
them  against  the  ccJntagion  of  cor- 
rupt examples,  imported  with  our 


fashions  ;  and  that  they  h^i  to 
look  to  feeling  alone  for  assisst-* 
aUce,  I  treml)le  lest  his  doubts 
should  be  rerrioved,  and  the  ver* 
diet  be  given  in  favour  of  hb  own 
age.  Though  wc  could  not  deny 
the  justice  of  this  decision,  no  one^ 
I  believe,  would  wish  to  bring  back 
the  manners  of  that  age,  when  the 
mistress  was  little  more  than  an 
upper  servant  in  her  own  house, 
and  her  ideas  not  raised  above  that 
'condition.  In  the  first  settlement 
6f  this  country,  the  men  were 
wholly  occupied  in  obtaining  a 
bare  subsistence  ;  and  the  aid  of 
the  female  was  necessary  to  add  to 
their  hard  fare  a  few  of  the  com- 
forts of  life.  Custom  continued 
what  was  commenced  from  neces- 
sity, even  after  an  intercourse  with 
other  nations  had  introduced  more 
iit)eral  ideas.  Most  men,  rivetted 
to  old  habits,  were  imwilling  to 
see  their  wives  and  daughters  em- 
ploy that  time  in  impro>'ing  their 
minds,  which  they  thought  ought 
to  be  occupied  in  domestick  em- 
ployments. These  prejudices  are 
now  nearly  removed  ;  women  are 
raised  from  their  station  in  the 
kitchen  to  a  rank  in  society  ;  but 
no  means  are  taken  to  prepare 
their  minds  fb»  their  new  situafton. 
The  infant  is  sem  to  school,  be- 
cause the  avocations  of  the  mother 
wiU  not  permit  her  attention  to  it. 
At  school,  its  mind  is  first  opened  ^ 
but  instead  of  hanng  goodness  in- 
stilled into  it,  and  made  a  part  6f 
its  constitution,  it  receives  the 
knowled:4:e  of  evil,  from  which  tht, 
female  mind,  not  designed  for  the 
bustle  of  the  world,  should  be  kept 
as  long  as  possible.  At  different 
schools  she  remains  nine  or  ten 
years,  learns  to  read,  to  anarwer  by 
rote  such  questions  in  geography 
&s  the  common  school-books  con* 
tain,  and  perhaps  may  be  enabled 
to  cast  up -a  shopkeeper's  mcCQunt* 


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H1EM0IH$  Of  MAnJIOIfTEV 


m 


from  ber  dancing  master  shf  |ias 
iiot  even  learnt  to  walk  ;  and  erp 
«he  is  a  mother,  the  little  musick 
she  raay  have  acquired,  is  quite 
forgotten.  But  is  her  mind  now 
prepared,  and  has  her  educaiioa 
fitted  her  for  acting  her  part  in  so- 
ciety ?  or  are  women  born  without 
minds,  and  only  designed  to  con- 
tinue the  species  ?  If  so,  we  ouj!;ht 
to  have  a  tribunal  of  mariiages, 
that  by  crossing  the  breed  the  race 
might  be  improved.  But,  without 
recurring  to  such  monsters  as  Ca- 
tharine and  Elizabeth,  history  and 
our  own  experience  inform  us, 
that  woman  has  ever  possessed  ^ 
mind  fine  and  delicate  ;  and  al- 
though its  texture  may  frequently 
be  destroyed  by  education  in  its 
infancyy  that  she  was  designed  for 
the  companion,  not  for  the  servant 
of  man.  This  mind  then  should 
J>e  culcivatedi  she  should  be  taught 
to  think  as  well  as  to  read.  For 
many,  with  a  laudable  desire  of 
knowledge,  but  undirected  in  the 
means  of  obtaining  it,  feed  with 
avidity  on  whatever  books  chance 
throws  in  their  way,  and  tliink  they 
have  stored  their  minds,  by  lodg- 
ing tlie  principal  ideas  in  their 


memories.  But  not  knowing  how 
to  use  their  knowledge,  it  is  of  no 
more  service  to  them,  than  treas- 
ure is  to  the  miser,  who  ahvays 
keeps  il  fast  locked,  and  fears  to 
look  at  it  himself.  She  who  only 
reads,  instead  of  useful  and  nutri- 
tiou*  herbs  and  flowers,  will  collect 
nettles  and  weeds,  and  at  best  will 
only  obtiiin  useless  trash.  If  she 
really  wishes  to  improve  her  mind, 
she  must  be  willing  to  study,  and 
thoroughly  to  undersUuid  cveiy 
thing  she  undertakes  ;  and  shp 
will  not  then  in  vain  request  the 
direction  of  her  fiiends.  She  may 
do  this,  without  neglecting  those 
exteriour  accomplishments,  which 
give  a  captivating  and  irresistible 
dignity  to  the  female  person.  She 
may  be  able  to  participate  in  all 
our  joys,  and  alleviate  all  our  cares; 
temper  our  awlour  with  modera- 
tion, and  ejcite  our  dormant  be- 
nevolence mto  action.  She  woul4 
then  neither  be  regarded  in  the 
degraded  state  of  a  housekeef)er, 
nor  as  a  pretty  toy  to  be  admired.; 
but  as  our  best  companion,  for 
which  God  and  nature  designed 
her. 


FOB    THE  AJ^THOLOGY. 


UTftACTs  rmoM  memoim  of   >iakmont£l,  writtkv  bt  himself. 


Makmontiil  informs  us  tliat 
he  was  bom  at  the  small  town  of 
Bort  in  the  Limosin,  of  which  he 
gives  a  beautiful  portrait  : 

« Borty  seated  on  the  Dordogne 
between  Auvergne  and  Limosin, 
presents  a  fearful  picture  to  the 
first  view  of  the  traveller,  who,  at 
a  distance,  from  the  top  of  the 
mountain,  sees  it  at  the  bottom  of 
a  precipice  threatened  with  inun- 
dation by  the  torrents  that  the 
storms  occasion,  or  with  instant 


annihilation  by  a  chain  of  volcanick 
rocks,  some  planted  like  towers  on 
the  height  that  commands  th^ 
town,  and  others  already  hanging 
and  half  torn  from  their  base.  But 
Bort  assumes  an  aspect  more  gay, 
as  these  fears  are  dissipated  and 
tlie  eye  extends  itself  along  tlie 
valley.  The  green  and  woody- 
island  that  lies  beyond  the  town, 
embraced  by  the  river,  and  anima- 
ted by  the  noise  and  motion  of  a 
milli  is  filled  with  birds.    On  thp 


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MEMOIftS  OF  MARMONTEL. 


banl^s  of  the  river,  orchards,  mea- 
dows, and  com  fields,  cultivated  by 
^  laborious  people,    form  varied 

!>ictures.  Below  the  town  the  val- 
ey  opens,  presenting;  on  one  side 
m  extensive  meadow  watered  by 
continual  springs,  and  on  the  oth- 
er fjelcjs  crowned  by  a  circle  o^ 
hills,  whose  gentle  slope  forms  a 
pleasing  contrast  with  the  opposite 
rocks.  Farther  on,  thjs  circle  is 
broken  by  a  torrent  which,  from 
the  mountains,  rolls  and  bounds 
through  forests,  rocks,  and  preci- 
pices, till  it  falls  into  tlie  Dordogne 
by  one  of  the  most  beautiful  cata-* 
Tacts  of  tlie  continent,  both  for  the 
volume  of  water,  and  the  height 
of  its  fall  ;  a  phenomenon  which 
only  wants  more  frequent  specta- 
tors to  be  renowned  and  admired. 
It  is  near  this  cataract  that  the  lit- 
tle farm  of  St.  Thomas  lies,  where 
I  used  to  read  Virgil  under  the 
shade  of , the  blossoming  trees  that 
surrounded  our  bee  hives,  and 
where  their  hon^y  afforded  me 
such  delicious  repasts.  It  is  on 
the  other  side  of  the  tpwn,  beyond 
the  mill,  and  on  the  slope  of  the 
mountain,  that  the  garden  lies, 
%vhere  on  welcome  holidays  my 
father  used  to  lead  me  to  gather 
grapes  from  the  vines  he  himself 
had  planted,  or  cherries,  plums, 
and  apples  from  the  trees  he  had 
grafted.  But  the  charm  that  my 
native  village  has  left  on  my  mem- 
ory arises  from  the  livid  impres- 
sion I  still  retain  of  the  fii*st  feel- 
ings, with  which  my  soul  was  im- 
bued and  penetrated,  by  the  inex- 
pressible tenderness  that  my  par- 
ents shewed  me.  If  I  have  any 
kindness  in  my  character,  I  am 
persuaded  that  I  owe  it  to  these 
gentle  emptlons,  to  the  habitual 
happiness  of  loving  and  being  lov- 
ed. Ah !  what  a  gift  do  we  re- 
ceive from  heaven,  when  we  are 
^lesscd  with  kind,  affectionate  par? 
fnts ! 


<  I  also  owed  much  to  a  certain 
amenity  of  manners  that  then  dis- 
tinguished my  native  place  ;  and 
indeed  the  simple  gentle  life  we 
led  there  must  have  had  some  at- 
traction, since  notliing  was  more 
rare  than  to  see  the  natives  desert 
it.  Their  youth  was  instructed, 
and  their  colony  distinguished  itself 
in  the  neighbouring  schools  ;  but 
they  returned  again  to  their  town, 
like  a  swarm  of  bees  to  the  hive, 
with  the  sweets  they  had  col- 
lected.' 

Marmoptel  is  to  be  regarded 
as  the  immediate  cause  of  the 
great  change  i^hich  has  taken 
place  in  the  dramadck  world  ;  of 
simplicity  in  declamation,and  truth 
in  the  costume  of  the  theatre. — ^  I 
had  (says  he)  long  been  in  the  habit 
of  disputing  with  Mademoiselle 
Clairon,on  the  manner  of  declaim- 
ing tragick  verses.  I  found  in  her 
playing  too  much  violenpe  and  im- 
petuosity, not  epough  suppleness 
and  variety,  and  above  all  a  force 
that,  as  it  w^s  not  qualified,  was 
more  a-kin  to  rant  than  to  sensibiN 
ity.  It  was  this  that  I  endeavour* 
ed  discreetly  to  make  her  under- 
stand. «  You  have,"  I  used  to  say 
to  her,  ^  all  the  means  of  excelling 
in  your  art ;  and  great  as  yon  are, 
it  would  be  easy  for  you  still  to  rise 
above  yourself,  by  managing  more 
carefully  the  powers  of  which  you 
are  so  prodigal.  You  oppose  to 
me  your  brilliant  successes,  and 
those  you  have  procured  me ;  you 
oppose  to  me  the  opinions  and  the 
suffrages  of  your  friends  ;  you  op- 
pose to  me  the  authority  of  M.  de 
Voltaire  :  who  himself  recites  his 
verses  with  emphasis,  and  who 
pretends  that  tragick  verses  re- 
quire, in  declamation,  the  same 
pomp  as  in  the  style  ;  and  I  can 
only  answer  I  have  an  irresistible 
feeling,  which  tells  me  that  decla- 
mation, like  style,  may  be  noble, 
ma^estjck,  tragick,  with  simpiici^ 


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MEMOIRS  07  MARMOKTEL. 


133 


tf  ;  that  expression,  to  be  lively 
and  profoundly  penetrating,  re- 
quires gradations,  shades,  unfore- 
seen and  sudden  traits,  which  it 
cannot  have  when  it  is  stretched 
and  forced."  She  used  to  reply 
fometiraes  with  impatience,  that 
I  should  never  let  her  rest,  till  she 
had  assumed  a  familiar  and  comick 
tone  in  tragedy.  "  Ah  I  no,  Ma- 
demoiselle," said  I,  **  that  you  will 
never  have  ;  nature  has  forbidden 
Jt ;  you  even  have  it  not,while  you 
are  speaking  to  me  ;  the  sound  of 
your  voice,  the  air  of  your  counte- 
nance, your  pronunciation,  your 
gestures,  your  aldtudes,  are  natu- 
rally noble.  Dare  only  to  confide 
in  this  native  talent,  and  I  dare, 
warrant  you  will  be  the  more  tra* 
gick." 

<  Other  counsels  than  mine  pre- 
vailed, and,  tired  of  being  impor- 
tunate without  utility,  I  had  yield- 
ed, when  I  saw  the  actress  sudden- 
ly and  voluntarily  come  over  to 
my  opinion.  She  came  to  play 
Roxane  at  the  little  theatre  at  Ver- 
sailles. I  went  to  see  her  at  the 
toilette^  and,  for  the  first  time,  I 
found  her  dressed  in  the  habit  of  a 
sultana  $  without  hoop,  her  arms 
half  naked,  and  in  the  truth  of 
Oriental  costume  x  I  congratula- 
ted her.  ^  You  will  presently  be 
delighted  with  me,"  said  she.  «  I 
have  just  been  on  a  journey  to 
Bourdeaux  ;  I  found  there  but  a 
very  small  theatre  $  to  which  I 
^"^  obliged  to  accommodate  my- 
self The  thought  struck  me  of 
'educing  my  action  to  it,  and  of 
making  trial  of  that  simple  decla- 
mation you  have  so  often  required 
of  me.  It  had  the  greatest  success 
^cre  :  I  am  going  to  try  it  again 
l»ei*,  on  this  little  theatre.  Go 
•od  hear  me.  If  it  succeed  as 
*cll»  &rewel  my  old  declamation." 

*  The  event  surpassed  her  ex- 
psctatiQu  and  mine.    It  was  no 


longer  the  actress,  it  was  Roxane 
herself,whom  the  audience  thought 
they  saw  and  heard.  The  aston- 
ishment, the  illusion,  the  enchant- 
ment, was  extreme.  All  inquired 
where  are  we  ?  They  had  heard 
nothing  like  it.  I  saw  her  after 
the  play  ;  I  would  speak  to  her  of 
the  success  she  hM  just  had, 
«  Ah !"  said  she  to  me,  ^  don't  yon 
see  that  it  ruins  me  ?  In  all  my 
characters,  the  costume  must  now 
be  observed  ;  the  truth  of  decla- 
mation requires  that  of  dress  ;  all 
my  rich  stage-wardrobe  is  from 
this  moment  rejected  ;  I  lose 
1200  guineas  worth  of  dresses; 
but  the  sacrifice  is  made.  You 
shall  see  me  here  within  a  week 
playing  Elrctre  to  the  life,  as  I 
have  just  played  Roxane." 

*  It  was  the  Elcctre  of  Crcbillon. 
Instead  of  the  ridiculous  hoop, and 
the  ample  mourning  robe,  in  which 
we  had  been  accustomed  to  see 
her  in  this  character,  she  appeared 
in  the  simple  habit  of  a  slave, 
dishevelled,  and  her  arms  loaded 
with  long  chains.  She  was  admi- 
rable in  it ;  and  some  time  after- 
ward, she  was  still  more  sublime 
in  the  Electre  of  Voltaire.  This 
part,  which  Voltaire  had  made 
her  declaim  with  a  continual  and 
monotonous  lamentation,  acquir- 
ed, when  spoken  naturally,  a  beau- 
ty unknown  to  himself;  for  on 
seeing  her  play  it  on  his  theatre  at 
Femcy,  where  she  went  to  visit 
him,  he  exclaimed,  bathed  in  tears 
and  transported  with  admiration} 
«  //  r*  not  I  who  vn'Ote  that^  *ti8  she: 
she  has  created  her  part  .'"  And 
indeed,  by  the  infinite  shades  she 
introduced,  by  the  expression  she 
gave  to  the  passions  with  which 
this  character  is  filled,  it  was  per- 
haps that  of  all  others  in  which 
she  was  most  astonishing. 

<  Paris,  as  well  as  Versailles,  re-i 
cognised  in  these  changes  the  truo 


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M4 


WBMOIES  or    MAftMOKTEt. 


tnigick  accent,  and  the  new  degree 
of  probability  that  the  strict  ob- 
servance of  costume  gave  to  the- 
atricai  action.  Thus,  from  that 
time  all  the  actors  were  obliged  to 
jabandon  their  fringed  gloves,  their 
Toiuniinous  wigs,  their  feathered 
liats,and  all  the  fantastick  apparel, 
that  had  so  long  shocked  the  sight 
«f  all  men  of  taste.  Lekain  him^ 
self  followed  tlic  example  of  ma- 
demoiselle Clairon  ;  and  from  that 
moment  their  talents,  thus  perfec- 
tedf  excited  mutual  emulation,  and 
were  worthy  rivzds  of  each  other,* 
Mkrmontel  speaks  thus  of  an 
iaterview.with  Massillon  : 

<  In  one  of  our  walks  to  Beaure- 
gard, the  country-house  of  the 
bisho{M*ick,  we  had  the  happiness 
to  visit  the  venerable  Massillon. 
The  reception  tliis  illustrious  old 
man  gave  us,  was  so  full  of  kind- 
ness, his  presence  and  the  accent 
of  his  voice  made  so  lively  and 
tender  an  impression  on  me,  that 
the  recollection  of  it  is  one  of  the 
most  grateful  that  I  retain  of  what 
passed  in  my  early  years. 

<  At  that  age,  when  the  affeo» 
tions  of  the  mind  and  soul  have, 
reciprocally,  so  sudden  a  commu- 
nication, when  reason  and  senti- 
ment act  and  re-act  on  each  other 
with  so  much  rapidity,  there  is  no 
one  to  whom  it  has  not  sometimes 
happened,  on  seeing  a  great  man, 
to  imprint  on  his  forehead  the  fea- 
tures that  distinguished  the  char- 
ILCter  of  his  soul  and  genius.  It 
was  thus  that  among  the  wrinkles 
of  that  countenance  already  decay- 
rd,  and  In  those  eyes  that  were  soon 
to  be  extingubhed,  I  thought  I 
could  still  trace  the  expression  of 
that  eloquence,  so  sensible,  so  ten- 
der, to  sublime,  so  profoundly  pen- 
etrating, with  which  1  had  just  been 
enchanted  in  his  writings.  He 
|)ermitted  us  to  mention  them  to 
liim,  and  to  offer  him  the  homage 


of  the  religious  tears  they  hai 
.made  us  shed.' 

The  origin  of  M armontel's  cel- 
ebrated Tales  does  him  great  cred- 
it. He  had  procured  the  ap- 
pointment of  Editor  of  the  Mer- 
cure  Francois  for  Boissy,  a  man  of 
letters  in  distress  ;  Boissy  found 
himself  unequal  to  the  task  of  sup- 
porting the  publication,  and  appU- 
ed  to  Marmontel  for  his  frieodly 
aid  : 

<  Destitute  of  assistance,  finding 
nothuig  passable  in  the  papers  that 
were  left  him,  Boissy  wrote  me  a 
letter,  which  was  a  true  picture  of 
distress.  ^  You  will  in  vain  have 
given  noe  the  Mercure,"  said  he ; 
^  this  favour  will  be  lost  on  me, 
if  you  do  not  add  that  of  coming  to 
my  aid.  Prose  or  verse,  whatever 
you  please,  all  will  be  good  from 
your  hand.  But  hasten  to  extri- 
cate me  from  the  difficulty  in  whicli 
I  now  am  ;  I  conjure  you  in  the 
name  of.  that  friendship  which  I 
have  vowed  U>  you  for  the  rest  of 
my  life." 

*  This  letter  roused  roe  from  my 
slumber  ;  I  beheld  this  unkappf 
editor  a  prey  to  ridicule,  and  the 
Mercure  decried  in  his  hands, 
should  he  let  bis  penury  be  seen. 
It  put  me  in  a  fever  for  the  whole 
night ;  and  it  was  in  this  state  of 
crisis  and  agitation  that  I  first  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  writing  a  tale. 
After  having  passed  the  night  with- 
out closing  my  eyes,  in  roHiag  in 
my  fancy  the  subject  of  that  I  hs?e 
entitled  Alcibiadcj  I  got  up,  wrote 
it  at  a  breath,  without  laying  down 
my  pen,  and  sent  it  off.  This  tsk 
had  an  unexpected  success.  I  bad 
required  that  the  name  of  its  au- 
thor should  be  kept  secret.  No 
one  knew  to  whom^to  attribute  it ; 
and  at  Heh'etius's  dinner,  whene 
tlie  finest  connoisseurs  were,  they 
did  me  the  honour  of  ascribing  it 
to  Voltaire,  or  to  Montesquieu.' 


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133 


POETRY. 


ORIGIjVAL,  Quaixi  vldeOr,  par  est ;  et  me  Narcis»ii»- 

amavit. 

For  the  Anthology.  C»tcraqueutde.mi;  quifinmi«t,o«€»- 

dere  cccii 

PROSOPOPCEIA  UMBR.E.  ""  '"^f^rm. ''"^''^  n«P»«-«- 

_.    _.  .             .         «.      .  Seu  formam  a»pici»,  non  me  Ccpbei* 

jEmcla  Dli,  DiYis^e  piior ;  Diva  ip»a  \\t^                                        3(> 

futura,                                     ^  Pulcbrior,aul  blando  vatefdilecta  Phaoni, 

Me  nui  perpctuum   tcnebrw  damnasset  5^^  ^apit  aitonitum  generis  te  finua  ve- 

»P*<^*       .    .  tosti  ;                                     ^ 

Jaa  Dew  a    pnmi  cre»cemi»  ongioe  Ante  fui,  quam  tempo.  ««t^  tcofleccara^ 

mundi,  tangit 

Qamn  soli,  radios  et  cali  accenderit  ignei.  i^^^^^  Mllertit  honot ;   mihi  Cvadua, 

Uh  ego  Kixn   cerrem   imitatnx  corpont  fratre 

mobra,                  ., .     .  .            *  Com  Ditido,  et  magni  dtbcBt  praecmdia 

CdettiMiQC  numca ;  mik  ultima  Tar-  mundi,                                      35 

.       tara  parent,  Natur»  in  taiebri»  penltms  pemt^que. 

Fintoinsqiie  domus,  Atlantaique  recesstn.  repos^ta 

N«iproaT05qn«ra«,primamveabongi-  D^^ecu  esse  ocatit  per  mt  moitaiaU» 

ne  gcntem,  ultr^ 

Ipa  tero  membns  semper  redeuaubus  Sivt  e»  mirator  renim :  mirabere  noitrai. 

*^^'                                         ,  Kempe  triumphatum  Ponti  de  rege  w- 

A^ce  mibi  propno  Tireft  reparaatur  ab  perbo 

^^*-                          ,.              ^^  Praesidio  uniut  nortro  qvit  nticit  ?    ego 

Cant    Titam,  queit  vitam  adimo ;     mi-  \ciu%                                          40i 

tricta  prwtant  Sostinui  cunctos,  quum  t«,  Romane,  U- 

Qveuego  quotidie  exequias  et  nmera  ^^^^ 

dfsco.  Iflustrem  ex  tuto  iacolis  dnm  conficb 

Maxima  naturae  popuHt  arcana  retexi,  bostem.                                          ^ 

^dcraqne  et  T^ti  laqueata  palatia  cccU.  y^^^^  ^Hter  molem  dypei  •eptcmplicit 

Adman,  astrorumque  cboros  mortalibus  umu 

oclis.                                            15  Oppofuit  ducibns  Teucritque  nientibo* 

Qood  tenebrx   luces,  quod  lux  optata  Ajax. 

^     tenebraa  2t  tamen  huic  pugna,  si  verum  quxrts^ 

Exapnat,  nostntim  est ;  requierarpraebe-  j„  -jl^                                        45 

mus  amicam  pi^  ja^^,  „e,^j .  clypeum  nempe  illc; 

Omibtts  altera©  recreuites  fngore  ter-  ^^  memet 

^7'       ...                        .  Ho8tib\is  objeci ;    et  quod  plus  mirerisr 

Qoin  et,  dum  mgnt  citbem  circumvolo  inermem. 

pennis.  jjg^.  virtus  haec  una  niea  est.    Scit  Flai^ 

MBMnxm    qnicmiqae    wen»   d«ct«qae  ^^^  ^^^^ 

Mtf runt                                       «0  gj  n„T,j  ^^  ^^j^,  multum  debere,  Vitdli 

ftfljdii,    ingemi    cnodimt.  mommeBCU,  g^j  Marius,  fusU  Numidis,  captoque  Jis- 

viamque  g^rthl                                         5Q 

Afectant  liquid©  super  aurea  sidcra  cccto.  Quinducibusmagnostetitignorationostrv 

P«r  me  pytamidftm  qudndam  fostigia  q^jq,  -^^^  V\ciM,  qui,  classem  educerc 

mensus  ^^j 
udtor  esseThales;  perme,qui  fulmiae 

**;^P»«-,.                      .^.    .    ,.  .  r30..«  Seu  formam,' ete. /cnir«CWr^. 

Fnpt  Alexandri    patren,  •iU   judicis  [25..«  sibiiudices/etc  Fabula«if/irf 

itaemas  fedt.  Kfc  me  torn  crtdwe^flem,  [38,.  c  sive  es,*  etc.  Virtvi, 

[52...*  Quos  inter  Kiciat/  &c    ViE. 

[t4* ..« per  me,'  &c    Dimosthsnm*  -^/i*.  /i^.  X,  cap.  12. 


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1S6 


Poetry. 


Dum  p«vet  Actzim,  magico  containing 

victum 
Credens  roriflu*  vultumintabescereluna, 
Cccropias  afflixit  ope$,qua5  Martiacorda 

SB 

llomulidum  «imiU  fac«ret  trepidare  tu- 

multu,  ^  ^ 

Docti  animos  nisi  ^rmassct  sollertia  Gralli. 

Quid  rcferam,  quantos  ubus  mortalibu* 

sBgris, 
Quot  pecori  prPMtem  ?   Qtiis  non  um- 

bracula,  quis  non 
iiadivit  gratas  platani  potantibiu  um- 
bras ?  60 
Munere  qui*  no«tro  Phxbcam  lampada 

nescit 
Villosx  silva  caudae  prohibere  Sciurum  ? 
Quin,  quibus  usque  pedum  Titan  defen- 

ditur  umbra. 
Umbripedes  popuH,  qua  Sol  violentior 

arva 
JEthiopAm  rccu  dcipectat  cuspide,  nos- 
trum ^  ^5 
Agnoscunt  meritum.    Quin  et  decus  ad- 

dimus  illi» 
Quidquid  Apellasi  gaudent  animisse  co- 
lores.^, 
Utque  artis  pan  nunc  tantum,  sic  decuit 

oHm 
Tota  mihi,  ad  radios  quum  circumscri- 

bcre  solis 
Humanam  docui  propria  sub  imagine 
formam.  70 

Sed  uceo  ;   ne,  quod  reprehendit  Tul- 

liuB,  omnes 
Falsx  glorioix  videar  scctaricr  umbras. 
•••  L« 

[71  ...«  TuUius.'— Or*/,  in  Piume, 


EXTRACT     FROM     SOUTflKT  9 
"  MADOC." 

MAID  of  the  %o\6Kti  locks,  Szt  ottier  lot 

May  gentle  heaven  assign  thy  happier  Iov«, 

Bhie-eyed  Senena  I  .  .  They  loitered  on, 

Alodg  the  urindlngs  of  the  grassy  shore. 

In  such  free  Interchange  of  inward  thought. 

As  the  calm  hour  Intrlted  i  or  at  timet. 

Willingly  silent,  Ibtening  to  the  bird 

Whoie  one  repeated  melancholy  note* 

By  oft  repeating  meUnchoiy  made. 

Solicited  the  car  ;  or  gladlicr  now 

Harkeniiig  that  chearful  one,  who  knonrtth  all 

1  he  long  of  all  the  vilnged  choristtrs. 

And,  in  one  sequence  of'  melodious  sounds. 

Pours  all  their  music.     But  one  wilder  straifl 

At  fits  came  o'er  the  water ;  rising  now. 

Now  with  a  dying  fall,  in  sink  and  swell 

More  cxquintely  sweet  than  ever  art 

Of  man  evoked  from  instrument  of  touch. 

Or  beat,  or  breath.     It  was  the  evening  gale. 

Which,  passing  o'er  the  harp  of  Caradoc, 

Swept  all  its  chords  at  once,  and  blended  all 

Their  music  into  one  conttouoos  flow. 

The  solitary  bard,  beside  his  harp 

Leant  underneath  a  tree,who«e  spreading  bought 

With  broken  shade  that  shifted  to  the  breesCv 

Played  on  the  wavlhg  waters.    Overhead 

There  was  the  kafy  murmur,  at  his  foot 

The  lake's  perpetual  ripple,  and  from  far. 

Borne  on  the  modulathtg  gale,  was  heard 

The  roaring  of  the  mountahi  cataract. . . 

A  blind  man  would  luve  loved  the  lovely  q>oC. 


l^or  the  Monthly  Anthology* 


I^rom  3erjaU*s  Poenu*. 

The  following  Speech,  for  substancej  was  actually 
made  by  a  noted  gamester  In  N.H.  on  obtaining 
a  verdict  against  the  unanimous  opinion  of  the 
judges,  by  tampering  with  the  Jury. 

WE  CM*  and  shwJUd,  stirr'd  our  stumps. 
But  z — ds  f  they  put  us  to  our  tmmff. 
They  held  cwti^curds,  led  tuit  beside, 
With  aU  four  b^mmrt  on  their  side. 
They  play'd  the    deuce  !    but   wc    more 

brave 
Ftnest'd  on  hearts^  and  playd  the  Inave. 
We  better  knew  the  paei  to  ^^ 
And  won  the  game  at  but  by  trichs  / 


SHIPWRECK. 

^Written  in  1802.] 

WIKTBR,  clad  In  rUde  array. 
Held  his  empire  o'er  the  day ; 
Chill  the  sleety  north-east  blew. 
High  its  surges  ocean  threw. 
Now  they  lash  the  sandy  shore. 
Whitening  on  tke  rocks  they  roar. 
Late  the  syren  southern  gale 
Wanton'd  in  the  swelling  sail ; 
Late  secure  the  vessel  roVd 
O'er  the  wave,  that  gently  movM. 
The  mariners  eJtdlting  view 
The  dim-discovered  mountains  btoe. 
Then  the  storm  began  to  lour, 
Fiocdy  beat  the  sletty  shower^ 


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»OKTRT. 


m 


VUly  howl  to  iMaen'd  wind*. 

To  direct  oo  frkadlf  lifht 

(ahntncw  thraosii  the  gloom  of  tSf^ti 

tut  the  lamp,  that  erst  so  sure 

HarhM  die  coarse,  thick  Humt  obasnre. 

flow  fact  oaavailiag  care 

Tlddf  to  hdplcas,  wild  dcs|»air. 

Looder  now  tlM  tempeit  tavci« 

B||bcr  twcd  tho  hcavtaig  waves  i 
jbw  they  daah  the  liecble  sUff 
^Va  the  craggy*  pointed  cliff « 

Raw  iaoenda  the  dytag  groan  |... 

lloaght  aTalta  the  widowl  moao« 

Maoght  the  tear  by  pity  shed 

O'er  the  nOcka  of  the  dead. 


Ay  free,  aff  hin%  your  story  tell* 

When  wi*  a  boson  erony  s 
But  stQl  keep  something  to  yoorfti 

Ye  scarcely  tell  to  ony. 
Conceal  yonrsel  as  weel*s  ye  can 

Frae  critical  disseetlon } 
Bat  keek  thro'  eT*ry  other  man* 

wr  shatpoed  slf  taispeetlon. 

f. 

tfnt  aacred  lowe  e*  weel-plac'd  lordg 

Lmcoriantly  Indtdge  It ; 
But  never  tempt  the  Illicit  tore, 

Tho'  naethhig  should  divulge  It  | 
I  wave  the  quantum  o*  the  sin  & ' 

The  hasard  of  concealing ; 
But  Och  f  It  hardens  a'  wlthta. 

And  petrifies  the  feeling  I 


tnSTIJS  TO   A  TOUKO   FRIEKD. 


By  Sunia. 


1. 

1  LANG  hoe  tbooght,  my  yoothfti'  IHcndt 

A  iometldng  to  have  sent  you, 
IW  k  skoold  aerve  nae  Ither  end 

Ihan  Jnat  a  kind  memento ; 
Bat  how  die  sab)ect  theme  may  gang. 

Let  tkAe  and  chance  dctermlno  i 
fmlkasn  It  may  totn  out  a  Sang  a 

fnh^ai  turn  ont  a  Sennoo. 


IM  try  the  world  soon,  my  lad, 

Aa«,  Aadicw  dear,  beUeve  me, 
TcH  find  manklhd  an  uaco'  t^uad, 

And  mockle  they  may  grieve  ye }    ' 
ttar  cnc  and  trouble  set  your  UMughtb 

Vm  when  your  end's  attained  i 
AM  a*  your  vleira  may  come  to  nougliCs 

WhcwevYy  ncrre  la  strained. 


taw. 


l%9p.Mf»  men  asc  vfllafaia  ^i 

*Ifee  ital,  harden'd  vricked, 
Wkihae  oie  check  but  homa 

Astaafisw  restricted  s 
B«i  Otf^  mankind  aie  unco  weak, 

An'mieu  be  trusted  s 
VttLF  the  waTertog  balance  shake« 

ad  HMlyr^ht  adjusted  I 

4. 

Bttey  wbe  Uf  in  Feitnne^  strife^ 

IMkfice  we  should  na  censare« 
ite«a  ik>  Ivpertant  End  of  life 

9m  diMlly  may  answer : 
^^m  may  ^  aii  honest  heart, 

^w^^Mftlth  hewty  stare  hhn  \ 
*Vi  IMF  tnfc  n-nKbof*!  pnvts 

iMit  nee  eap^  m  apoK  Mn, 


Tb  catch  Dame  Fortune's  goUen  sm8% 

Assiduous  wait  upon  her ; 
And  gather  gear  by  ev'ry  wile 

That's  lustify'd  by  Honour  i 
Hot  for  to  hUe  it  In  a  hedge* 

Nor  for  a  train-attendant : 
But  for  the  ^orious  prlvUegd 

Of  being  Independent. 

a. 

The  fear  o*  Hdl  H  a  hangman's  wUp* 

To  baud  the  wretch  In  order ; 
But  where  ye  feel  yoor  Honour  grip* 

Let  that  ay  be  your  border : 
It's  slightest  touches.  Instant  pause..*  ^ 

Debar  a'  side-pretences ; 
And  resolutely  keep  It's  Uws* 

Uncaring  consaquencca. 

f. 
Hie  great  Creator  to  revere* 

Must  sure  become  the  Creature  j 
But  still  the  preaching  cant  forbear* 

And  ev'n  the  rigid  feature  i 
Yet  ne'er  with  Wits  prophaoe  to  rangf» 

Be  complaiiance  enteaded }  / 

An  atheist-laugh's  a  po<w  exchange 

For  Deity  oCended  t 

10. 
When  renting  round  tai  Pleaiurf  ^  ting* 

Religion  may  be  blinded } 
Or  if  «he  gie  a  random  sting. 

It  may  be  little  minded  ; 
But  when  on  Llle  we're  tempest-dilv^ 

A  conadence  but  a  canker—* 
A  correspondence  fin'd  wi'  Hcav'n 

is  sure  a  noble  anchor  1 

11. 
Aiieu,  dear  amiable  youth  f 

Your  heart  can  ne'er  be  wanting  f 
May  Prudence,  Ferrttude,  and  Trudi 

ErtA  your  brow  undanntlng  I 
In  ploughman  phrase,  **  God  send  yon  IftOd^ 

Still  dally  to  grow  wiser  t 
And  may  ye  better  reck  the  rede* 

Than  evct  did  th'  edvkcr  I. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


I3§ 


Williams's  hei^orts  of  casea 


THE  BOSTON  REVIEW, 

For    MJRCH^     1806. 


bUrarer.      Nam  ego  dkcrc  verum  ascucvi. 
maximc  laudari  mcroHur.—— Pliny. 


uinotavi,  quz  cmnmntanda,  qoc  escimenda,  iK 
Ncquc  uUi  pati«abiiM   rcprchcoduntttr,  quam  o#^ 


ART.  13. 
Kefiortn  fif  casea  argued  and  dc^ 
termined  in  the  aufireme  judicial 
court  of  the  state  of  Massac hu^ 
^uettH  from  ^efit,  1804  to  June 
1805,  both  incltiszx*e.  By  Fs- 
phr^m  IViiitanis,  Esq,  Vol,  I, 
8t'o.  ///?.  570.  85  bound.  North- 
ampton, published  by  S.  &.  E. 
Butler.     1805r 

We  congratulate  the  ptiblfck  on 
the  appearance  of  the  present  work ; 
the-  first-fruits  of  the  ofiice  of  re- 
porter, fately  established  by  author- 
ity of  the  legislature.  In  arbitrary 
goveninients,  where  the  people 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  Jaws 
but  to  obey  them^  a  work  of  tJiis 
kind  would  be  highly  useful,  tho' 
hardly  to  be  expected  ;  for  decis- 
ions and  precedents,  like  acts  of 
the  legislirture,  limit  the  power  of 
rulers  and  judges  :  but  that  a 
free  people,  whose  boast  it  is,  that 
they  are  governed  by  httcs  and  not 
by  men^  should  be  totally  iudiff^r* 
tnt  to  what  passes  in  their  courts 
of  justice  is  a  thing  we  ahould 
hardly  credit,  on  less  evidence  than 
that  of  experience.  What  should 
we  think  of  the  legislature,  if  our 
statutes  were  to  be  found  only  in 
the  books  of  the  secretary's  office  ? 
Would  it  not  be  deemed  a  most 
criminal  violation  of  the  rights  of 
the  people  ;  the  most  obvious  of 
which  is,  that  of  knowing  the  laws 
by  which  they  are  governed  ?  And 
yet  a  moment's  reflexion  will  serve 
to  convince  us,  tliat  k  is  no  less  so, 
that  the  decisions  of  our  courts 


of  justice  shoukJ  crist  only  in  the 
breasts  of  the  judges,  Or  ita  the 
lumber  of  a  clerk's  ofiicc. 

TIi€  law  of  this  commonwealth 
may  be  divided  into  two  heads  } 
the  statute  and  the  common  law  : 
and  this  latter  is  properly  distin- 
guishable into  two  kinds,in  respect 
to  the  source  from  which  ft  fs  de- 
rived ;   namely,  what  we  had,  be- 
fore  the  revolution,  adopted  from 
the  English  law,  and  such  general 
customs  or  usages  (for    we  ac- 
knoXvIedge  no  ftarticular  one^)  as 
have  prevailed  in  this  state,  and 
have  acquired  the   force  of  law> 
thoupjh  they  make  no  part  of  the 
English  system  of  jurisprudence. 
Of  r)ur  stiitutes,  nmch  the  greatest 
number  are  privajtc    or  special ; 
and  of  those  which   regard  the 
whole  community,  a  considerable 
number  refer  to  the  organization 
of  the  government.     They  arc  of 
a  political,  rather  than  a  civil  na- 
ture. •  Of  those  which  prescribe 
rules  of  civil  conduct  to  the  citi- 
zens,   rules    for  making  and  ex- 
pounding contracts,  principles  of 
decision  on  the  questions  daily  ag- 
itated in  our  courts  of  justice,  the 
number  V9  small  ;   indeed,  it  roay 
be  a  question,  whether  our  system 
of  jurisprudence  would  suffer  an 
injury  by  their  total  repeal.    Be- 
sides, the  exposition  of  statutes 
necessarify  belongs  to  the  judicial 
courts.     The    sphit,  rather  than 
the  letter  of  the  law,  is  what  wc 
are  bound  to  regard.      Plowdc© 
compai*es  an  act  of  the  legislature- 
to  a  autr    The  words  are  onlj  the 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


l!f   THE   SVPRSME   JVDICIAL    COURT. 


1J» 


Kuak,  or  shell  •',  the  sense  or  mean- 
ing is  the  kernel  or  soul  of  the  law. 
It  is  the  business  of  the  courts  to 
strip  off  the  hwsk.  He,  therefore, 
who  would  understand  the  mean* 
ing-  of  the  statutes,  must  carefully 
study  the  judicial  constructions, 
which,  from  time  to  time,  ha^'e 
,been  put  upon  them* 

But  the  maxims  and  rules  of 
the  common  law  greatly  exceed 
those  prescribed  by  statute,  both 
in  Dumber  mnd  importance  ;  and 
pf  these*  judicial  decisions  furnish 
the  oniy  evidence.  What  is  the 
common  law  of  this  state  ?  A  pe- 
rusal of  the  records  of  the  English 
courts  of  justice,  books  of  reports, 
the  treatises  of  the  learned  sages 
of  the  profession,  preserved  and 
handed  down  froi^  the  times  of 
highest  antiquity,  w^ll  furnish  the 
answer  as  it  respects  that  paxt  of 
our  lavs,  which  we  have  borrowed 
from  the  English  ;  bu)L  how  is  the 
line  to  be  drawn  between  what  we 
have  adopted  fit>m  the  English 
law,  and  what  has  been  rejected  as 
inapplicable  ?  Our  po^stituuon  fiir^ 
Irishes  us  with  a  rule  on  the  sub- 
ject.  Whatever  has  "  been  adopt- 
ed, used,  and  approved  in  the  prov*- 
ince,  colony,  or  state  of  M^tssachu- 
setts  Bay,  and  usually  practised  on 
in  the  CQurts  of  la^w,"  exicepting 
such  parts  «  as  are  repugnant  to 
the  rights  ai)d  liberties  contained 
i;i  the  constitution,"  is  law  here. 
But  how  shall  we  be  enabled  to  ap- 
ply this  rule  ?  where  shall  We  look 
ipr  the  evidence  of  this  adofition^ 
usagcy  and  a/ifirobation  y  the  evi- 
dence of  what  has  been  the  usual 
practice  in  our  courts  of  law  ?  We 
have  no  books  of  reports  ;  no  ev? 
idence  of  oiu*  judicial  decisions  } 
no  treatises  of  learned  sage^  of  the 
profession.*     History  is  of  great 

*  At  Rome  the  Opinions  of  the  Jwru* 
tmmhit  called  the  rupmta  prudetdvm^  were 
of  great  weight ;  and  a  coosiderable  par^ 
tf  the  Roo^aii  Uwit  fbiiA4e4ttpoo  th«i3^« 


use  in  explaining  laws  ;  but  no 
one  has  taken  the  tix>uble,  with 
reference  to  this  subject,  to  exam- 
ine the  history  of  tlie  state,  from 
its  settlement  to  the  revolution. 
The  legal  customs  and  usages, 
which  have  spnuig  up  among  us, 
have  JX^ycv  been  rolkcXed^  In 
short,  our  common  law  is  truly  au 
unwritten  law.  It  is  merely  oral,  or 
communicated  by  word  of  mouth* 
It  rests  altogether  on  micertuin 
tradition^ 

There  is  some  uncertainty  and 
contradiction  in  judicial  decisions, 
compiled  even  by  eminent  lawyers, 
judges,  and  reporters  appointed  by 
authority,  and  preserved  in  print. 
But  will  tliere  not  be  a  thousand 
times  more  uncertainty  and  con- 
tradiction ;  or  rather,  will  there  be 
any  certainty,  any  uniformity,  in 
decisions  never  committed  to  writ^ 
ing  ?  What  would  be  thp  i:ondition 
of  our  statute  law,  if  it  rested  soler 
ly  on  the  memory  of  the  members 
of  tlie  legislature  ?  And  what  should 
occasion  a  difference  in  favour  of 
judicial  decisions,  which  are  the 
proper  and  only  evidence  of  those 
laws,  which  are  ratified  by  the  tacit 
consent  of  the  people,  when  they 
depend  on  the  memory  of  lawyers, 
or  even  of  the  judges  who  pro- 
nounced them.  It  is  not  an  easy 
task  to  become  thoroughly  ac-> 
quainted  with  the  principles  of  the 
English  law.  It  is  a  task  of  much 
greater  difficulty,  to  become  mas- 
ter of  the  law  of  this  common-* 
wealth.  Our  statutes  are  probably 
worse  penned  than  th^  British  ; 
and  we  have  no  phart  to  direct  us 
in  the  search  of  our  legal  customs 
and  usages.  Our  law  does  not  de- 
serve thp  name  of  science.  Our 
judges  cannot  know,  if  they  would, 
wjih  apy  good  degree  of  certainty, 
the  points  which  have  heretofore 
been  decided.  Is  it  then  wonder- 
ful, that  they  should  pursue  the 
easier,  but  mpre  dangeraus  courw 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


IM 


WILLIAMS'6  RfiPORTft  OF  CA^Eft 


of  deciding  all  questions  according 
to  the  inipi*essions  on  their  own 
minds,  at  the  moment ;  and  then 
substitute  their  own  private  opin- 
ions in  the  place  of  law  ?  Such 
eidges  cannot  be  said  to  declare  the 
w  ;  they  make  it.  Like  arbitra- 
tors, they  make  their  award,  and 
deliver  their  own  opinions. 

Some  have  imagined,  that  the 
records  furnish  all  the  necessary 
information  on  this  subject.  It 
may  be  observed,  in  the  first  place, 
that  our  records  are  far  from  be- 
ing as  perfect  as  they  ought  to  be. 
The  business  is  intrusted  to  clerks, 
often  incapable,  and  too  often  rep 
miss  in  the  performance  of  the  du- 
ties of  the  oiSce.  But  admitting 
the  records  to  be  framed  and  kept 
in  the  best  possible  manper,  sdll, 
ftom  the  nature  of  the  thing,  they 
furnish  but  little  evidence  of  our 
legal  customs ;  because  they  rare? 
\y  contain  a  strfficient  statement  of 
rile  facts,  on  which  the  decision  is 
fjrounded,  and  never  the  argu? 
ments  and  reasoning  of  the  court. 
We  have  niade  these  brief  ob- 
servations, as  an  introduction  to  the 
consideration  of  the  work  before 
us.  We  trust  there  are  few  of 
pur  readers,  who  are  not  equalr 
ly  with  us  ^mpr^sscd  wjih  the 
conviction  that  the  design  of  tliis 
work  is  highly  important  ;  that  it 
is  one,  which.  If  welP  executed, 
promises  more  publick  utility  than 
any  measure  pur  government  has 
l^dopted  since  the  formation  of  the 
constitution.  A  correct  history  of 
"what  passes  in  courts  of  justice  is 
of  incalculable  advantage.  With 
a  single  exception,  It  is  the  best  of 
all  books.  It  perpetuates  the  lar 
bours  and  sound  maxims  of  wifee 
and  learned  judges.  It  serves  to 
make  the  path  of  duty  plain  before 
the  people,  by  making  the  law  a 
knovm  ruie  of  conduct ;  and  for  the 
same  reaspn,  it  diminishes  lifig^- 


tion.  It  has  a  tendency  t»  limit  . 
the  discretion  of  judges  ;  and  con- 
sequently, increases  liberty.  Where 
there  are  no  fixed  established  max- 
ims of  law,  the  citizens  are  in  the 
same  situation  as  farmers,  whose 
lands  are  not  divided  by  any  mon- 
uments or  known  bounds^  They 
will  be  very  likely  to  go  to  law,  and 
Tcry  unlikely  to  obtain  satisfactory 
decisions.  Maxims  of  law  are  like 
landmarks. 


How  for  the  work  before  us  b  cal- 
culated to  answer  these  valuable 
ends,wQ  shall  hereafter  have  occa- 
sion to  consider. 

With  regard  to  vrhat  is  the  best 
method  of  reportpg,  we  are  sensi- 
ble that  a  diflfcrence  of  opinion  pre- 
vails among  those,  most  conver- 
sant with  the  subject.  Some  have 
been  careful  to  state  the  facts  at 
great  length,  to  insert  a  Ml  copy 
of  the  pleadings,  the  arguments  of 
the  counsel,  as  diffusely  as  they 
were  delivered  at  the  bar,  the  cases 
and  authorities  cited  and  relied  pn^ 
and  the  opinions  of  the  judges,  at 
full  length  ;  while  others  have  giv- 
en a  very  abridged  state  of  the  case, 
together  wjth  the  mere  point  de- 
cided ;  omitting  not  only  the  ar- 
guments of  the  bar,  but  the  most 
of  the  reasoning  of  the  court.  It 
is  obvious  to  remark,  that  each  of 
these  methods  has  its  advantages 
and  disadvantages.  They  are  ex- 
tremes ;  and  in  this,  as  in  every 
thing  else,  "  in  medio  tutissimus 
ibis."  Prolixity  fatigues,while  ex- 
treme  brevity  leads  to  obscurity. 
But  there  is  a  conciseness,  which 
is  no  enemy  to  perspicuity,  and  a 
prolixity,  which  confounds,  instead 
of  enlightening.  Perhaps  it  is  not 
in  the  power  of  a  reporter  to  say 
just  jnough  for  some  readers,  with- 
out saying  too  much  for  others. 
But  we  are  decidedly  of  opinion, 
that  iftodern  reports  are,  in  gen«« 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


tlf  Tlt£  8UP11KMB  itTDlCIAL  COTt)lT. 


141 


ft!,  too  prolix.  Expunge  from 
them  every  thing  not  material  in 
the  statement  of  fiBM:ts;  everything 
from  the  argumentg,  which  does 
ftot  bear  on  the  question  ;  and  ev- 
ery thing  given  for  the  reasons  of 
the  decision  which  is  wholly  fbr« 
.  flgn  and  irrelevant,  and  many  a 
flKe  folio  would  dwindle  into  a  du* 
Wedmo.  The  eight  or  ten  volumes 
of  Vesey  jun.  would  be  reduced  to 
two  or  three  ;  Dallas  would  be  re* 
duced  one  half ;  Wallace*  to  a 
few  pages  ;  Cranch  would  make 
No.  I,  of  Vol.  I.,  and  Root  would 
entirely  disappear.  But  our  read- 
ers must  n«t  conclude  from  what 
we  have  said,  that  reports  may  not, 
in  our  judgment,  be  too  concise. 
We  arc  not  believers  in  the  "  short 
cuts  to  knowledge."  In  reports  it 
is  indispensable,  that  all  the  mate* 
liad  hcts  be  correctly  stated,  the 
pieaifings,  when  the  case  turns  up- 
on them,  the  judgment  of  the 
court,  and  the  outlines  of  the 
grounds  or  reasons  ol  the  decision. 
Nothing  trifling  or  impertinent 
should  be  inserted,  and  nothing 
material  omiUed. 

Of  the  qualifications  of  a  report- 
er, thei*e  can  be  but  one  opinion. 
'He  must  possess  industry  to  col- 
lect suitable  materials,  judgment 
to  select  and  arrange  them,  and 
great  accuracy  in  every  thing.  In 
a  word,  that  is  the  best  book  of  re» 
ports,  which  contains  the  greatest 
number  of  cases  upon  important 
pmts,  in  which  the  reasons  and 
gtounds  of  the  decisions  are  so 
dearly  set  down  that  they  cannot 
easily  be  mistaken  $  and  he  b  the 
best  reporter,  whose  works  ap- 
proach the  nearest  to  this  standard. 

Mr.  Williams,  in  a  very  modest 
ind  well  written  preface,  which 
••• 

*  Rtportt  of  Cases  adjudged  io  the 
cvcvit  covrt  of  the  United  Sute*,  for 
the  thira  circnit« 


prepossessed  us  in  his  favour^  and 
led  us  to  anticipate  something 
good,  appears  to  have  been  fully 
aware  of  the  difficulties,  with  which 
he  had  to  contend,  and  of  the  ad* 
vantages  and  disadvantages  of  the 
diflcrent  methods  in  use  of  report* 
ing  cases.  It  seems  to  have  been 
his  endeavour  to  avoid  the  extremes 
of  prolixity  and  brevity.  Where 
he  deemed  the  points  new  and  ab« 
struse,  he  professes  to  be  copious. 
In  cases  of  less  importance,  and 
especially  in  matters  of  practice, 
he  aipis  at  conciseness.  Not  hav- 
ing the  materials  for  reports,  with 
which  his  office  furnished  himt 
submitted  to  our  inspection,  we  are 
unable  to  determine  whether  he 
has  omitted  any  case  which  ought 
to  have  been  given  to  the  publick. 
But  we  have  no  hesitation  in  sayw 
ing,  that  some  of  those  selected 
might  have  been  spared,  without 
any  Injury  to  the  work.  For  ex* 
ample,  what  must  foreigners  think 
of  the  state  of  our  jurisprudence, 
when  it  is  thought  necessary  twice 
to  state,  as  solemn  decisions  of  our 
supreme  court,  that  an  administra'* 
tor,  and  an  individusd  in  his  own 
right,  cannot  join  in  prosecuting 
an  action  ?  [p.  104,  480.]  That 
an  action  ybr  money  had  and  receive 
ed  does  not  lie  for  a  surety ,who  has 
paid  the  debt  of  his  principal  ?  [p, 
1 3f .]  Who  ever  supposed  it  did  ? 
A  reporter  should  always  bear  in 
mind,that  it  is  only  cases  of"  weight 
and  difficulty"  that  should  be  re-* 
ported. 

Some  of  the  cases  are  spun  out 
to  a  most  unreasonable  length,  and 
contain  matters  which,  for  the  hon^ 
our  of  the  state,  we  think,  should 
never  have  appeared  in  print.  If 
individuals  will  use  or  rather  abuse 
the  liberty  of  the  press,  in  publishi 
ing  what  disgraces  them  and  us  in 
the  judgment  of  our  neighbours 
and  of  foreigners,  it  cannot  be  heljH 


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143 


WILLI Alifs's  REPORTS  OF   CA6E8 


rd  j  but  Mr.  W.  is  an  officer  of  the 
government,  and,  as  such,  bound  at 
sdl  times  to  consult  its  honour.     A 
reporter,  like  a  witness,  should  re- 
port nothing  but  the  truth ;  but  he 
is  not  bound  to  state  all  that  passes 
in  court.     We  shall  not  much  re- 
gret it,  if  foreigners  should  be  dis- 
posed to  question  his  correctness, 
"When  he  states,  that  the  first  law 
officer    of    the     commonwealth 
persevered     in     an    attempt     to 
file  a  plea  in  abatement  [Martin  v. 
the  Commonwealth  in  errour,  p. 
353]  after  several  general  impar- 
lances, and  after  a  plea  in  bar  had 
been  pleaded  at  a  former  term.    If 
there  is  any  principle  of  law  well 
established  in  our  courts,  it  is,  that 
8  plea  in  abatement  cannot  be  re« 
ccived  in  another  term,  after   a 
general  imparlance.    We  are  at  a 
loss  to  understand  what  the  attor- 
ney-general means  by  saying,  <'  that 
the  court  of  exchequer,  to  which 
tn  appeal  from  the  admiralty  lies, 
has  not  judiciary  power.     No  writ 
of  errour  lies  to  that  couit."  [p.873.] 
Some  of  the  pases  in  this  voK 
^me  are  so  v^ry  /larticular  in  their 
&cts  and  circumstances,  that  they 
cannot  operate  as  precedents  on 
other    occasions.      They    should 
have  been  omitted.    It  seems  w^ 
are  indebted  to  the  grand  jury  for 
the  county  of  Plymouth  for  one 
needless  report.    [Commonwealth 
¥. O'Hearsey,  p.  1 37.]     The  attorr 
ney-general  drew  the  indictment 
•gainst  his  own  opinion,  put  of  re-, 
Mfiect  to  the  grand  jury.     Possibly 
the  reporter,  following  thq  attor- 
ney-general's example,  inserted  it 
in  his  collection^  against  his  better 
judgment.      Uy   this  means,    we 
ppor  reviewers  have  been  obliged 
to  peruse  it  much  against  ours. 
We  cannot  but  think  that  the  poor 
culprit  has  conducted,  in  this  busi- 
ness, with  the  most  propriety.  He 
confessed  the  facts,  and  left  it  to 
the  court,  without  troubling  thcip 


with  counsel,  in  so  plain  a  case,  tt 
declare  the  laws.  We  hope  all 
concerned  will  profit  by  this  ex- 
ample. 

We  are  also  of  opinion,  that  the 
arguments  of  some  of  the  judges, 
in  the  case  alluded  to,  [Martin  ▼. 
the  Commonwealth]  as  well  as  ia 
many  others,  might  have  been  cclj^ 
densed,  with  advantage  to  the  pw?^ 
lick,  and  without  doing  any  inju- 
ry to  the  arguments  themselves. 
"We  are  not  agreeably  impressed 
with  "  wordy  eloquence"  from  the 
bench  ;  still  less,  with  attempts  at 
eloquence  without  success.  As 
the  style  of  laws  should  be  concise, 
plain,  and  simple,  so  decisions  of 
courts,  which  declare  the  law, 
should  be  neither  diffuse,  tumid, 
nor  rhetorical.  The  language  of 
judges  should  correspond  with  tlie 
dignity  of  the  office,  and  with  the 
majesty  of  the  subject.  Great  or- 
nament is  as  ill-becoming  in  the 
style  of  a  "  reverend  judge,"  as  a 
black  gown,  turned  up  with  pink, 
(the  dress  of  the  federal  judges)  is 
unbecoming  his  person. 

We  believe  that  there  is  a  style 
apd  manner  peculiarly  fitted  to  the 
bench.  An  eloquent  harangue  at 
the  bar  or  in  the  senate  would  be , 
unseemly  from  the  mouth  of  a  ven- 
erable judge.  The  sages  of  the 
law,who  are"legibus  patriae  optime 
inslituti,"who  may  justly  boast  of  the 
"  viginti  anpoiiim  lucubrationes," 
should  not  for  a  moment  be  sus- 
pected of  sacrificing  precision  to 
the  harmony  of  periods.  Lord 
Mansfield  was  a  scholar  and  an  or- 
ator ;  but  his  eloquence  at  the  bar, 
in  the  senate,  and  on  the  bench, 
were  as  much  unlike  each  otlier,  as 
the  eloquence,  of  which  we  com- 
plain, is  imlike  either. 

After  all,  we  are  not  enemies  to 
true  eloquence.  And  when  our 
judges  shall  have  taken  as  much 
pains  in  forming  opinions  in  the 
cases  before  them  as  Lord  Males'; 


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in  ttt*  %\iT1itUZ  iUDlCJtAt  cot«t. 


us 


field  altffay  did,  and  shall  have 
spent  as  many  years  in  the  acqui- 
^on  of  polite  and  elegant  litera- 
tttpc  as  he  did,  we  shall  not  object 
to  their  being  as  eloquent  upon  the 
bench  as  his  lordship.  It  will  no 
doubt  subject  us  to  the  "  suspicion 
of  dulness,"  yet  we  shall  not  scni- 
fle  to  declare,  that  in  a  judge  we 
prefer  labour  to  genius^  and  pains- 
taking to  ingenuity- 

Among  other  instances  of  pro- 
fijdty  that  occur  in  these  reports, 
may  be  niendoned,the  case  of  Smith 
T.  Bowker,  [p.  76]  which  occu- 
pies nearly  six  pages.  By  the 
▼ay,  the  defendant  is  called  Josefih 
VkdJotham  ;  which  is  the  true  name  ? 
We  think  sormething  like  the 
following  would  hare  comprized 
crery  tl^g  material  in  the  case. 
If  we  are  correct  in  this,  it  shews 
how  much  might  have  been  gained 
hj  a  judicious  abridgment  of  many 
of  the  cases  in  this  volume- 

«*  This  was  trespass  for  taking 
the  plaintiff's  cows.  A  case  was 
stated  for  the  opinion  of  the 
court,  in  substance,  that  the  pres- 
ent plaintiff  had  before  made  a 
promissory  note  to  one  Sweetser, 
who  purchased  a  writ  of  attach- 
ment thereon  against  the  plain- 
tiff, calling  him  of  Orange,  in  the 
county  of  H.,  instead  of  Athol,  in 
the  county  of  W.,  his  true  place  of 
abode.  Service  was  made  by  J.S., 
deputy  sheriff  of  H.  county,  that 
he  had  attached  a  hat,  the  property 
of  A.  S.  named  in  the  writ,  and 
left  him  a  summons  for  his  ap- 
pearance. This  summons  was  left 
at  th»  dwelling  house  of  the  plsdn- 
dff  in  Athol,  in  which  town  he  has 
•Iways  lived.  There  was  no  ap- 
pearance, and  judgment  was  ren- 
dered, by  defisiult,  at  the  first  term, 
ami  execution  issued  and  directed 
to  the  sheriffs,  &c.  of  W.  and  H. 
on^ties,  describing  the  parties  a»- 
in  the  writ  of  attachment^  and  was 


delivered  to  the  defetidatit,  A 
deputy  sheriff  in  W.  cotmtyi 
who,  by  virtue  thereof,  took 
the  cows  mentioned  in  the  declara- 
tion, and  sold  them  to  satisfy  the 
execution.  For  the  defendant  was 
cited  Crawford  v-  Satchwell,  3 
Stra.  1218.  The  court  was  clear- 
ly of  opinion,  that  the  defendant 
was  not  a  trespasser.  He  was  jus- 
tified by  his  precept  in  doing  what 
he  did.  Smith  should  have  ap-^ 
peared  and  pleaded  the  Wrong  ad- 
dition of  place  in  abatement.  By 
not  doing  sd  he  waved  the  mis- 
take, and  he  now  comes  t6o  late  to 
avail  himself  of  it.  Judgment  for 
the  defendant.** 

Simfnons  &c.v.W.C.Apthorp  8cc, 
[p.99]  petition  for  a  review,  or  new 
ti-ial.  The  case  is  not  long,  but  it' 
might  have  been  shorter.  It  would 
have  been  sufficient  to  state,  as  in 
the  margin,  that  k  was  determined 
by  the  court,  that  on  stich  petitions; 
the  petitioner  f  hall  be  confined,  on 
the  hearing,  to  the  allegations  m 
the  petition. 

The  case  of  Hall  v.  Hall  [p.  10 1  ] 
i*  too  trifling  to  merit  insertion^ 
The  decision  is  also,  to  say  the 
least  of  it,  questionable.  It  was 
probably  made  without  any  consid- 
eration. We  think  the  oath  of  a 
witness  to  prove  payment  as"  high*' 
and  better  evidence,  than  the  bare 
receipt  of  a  collector  of  taxes. 

Clap  V.  Joslynin  review  [p.  129]. 
The  circumstances  of  this  case 
were  very  particular,  and  such,  it 
is  to  be  hoped,  as  will  never  hap- 
pen again.  It  was  unnecessary  to 
state  them.  All  that  seems  use- 
ful to  mention  is,  that  in  this  case 
the  court  settled  it  as  a  rule  of 
ptactkef  that  in  an  action  of  re-^ 
view,  granted  by  the  court  under 
the  statute,  tlie  court  may,  on  a  rule 
ta  shew  cause,  quash  the  writ  for 
want  of  notic6  to  the  advecse  party, 
of  the  application  for  a  review  >  or^ 


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144 


UriLtlAMS^S  &BPORT8  Of  CASKS 


the  court  may  then  hear  the  par- 
ties on  the  merits  of  the  petition 
for  a  new  trial. 

Walker  &c.  v.  Maxwell,  [p. 
104.]  In  this  case  two  new  ques- 
tions were  decided.  1st,  that  the 
allegation,  by  a  defendant  who  be- 
longs to  another  state  in  the  union, 
that  the  debt  for  which  he  is  now 
sued  has  been  attached  in  his  hands 
as  garnishee  by  process  of  foreign 
attachment  in  hb  own  state,  at  the 
suit  of  a  creditor  there,  ...that  all  the 
firoceeding%  m  the  foreign  attach^ 
ment  were  purnumt  to  the  statute 
in  «t«cA  */a/e,  is  not  sufficient.  The 
statute  should  have  been  set  forth, 
that  the  court  might  see  whether 
the  proceedings  were  authorized 
by  it  or  not.  3d,  that  amendment 
may  be  allowed,  after  argument  on 
demurrer.  We  have  called  these 
new  points  ;  the  second  was  not  a 
new  question,  being  the  same  that 
was  decided  in  Holbrook  v.  Pratt, 
[p.  96]  but  the  decision  was  nrw, 
being  directly  contrary  to  the  for- 
mer one. 

This  case  occupies  twelve  pages, 
little  less  than  a  fortieth  part 
of  the  volume,  and  costs  every 
reader  10  cents,.,  a  great  deal  more 
than  it  is  worth.  It  was  not  ne- 
cessary, to  state  the  pleadings  ; 
that  part  printed  in  italics  «nd  the 
substance  of  the  rest  would  have 
been  sufficient.  There  is  nothing  in 
these  records  of  pleadings  so  excel- 
lent as  to  merit  insertion  at  length. 
It  is  but  justice  to  Mr.  W.  to 
say,  that  his  statements  of  fitcU 
seem  much  more  correct  than 
those  drawn  up  by  the  counsel, 
which  are  often  stuffed  with  im- 
pertinent  matter ;  and  in  some  in- 
stances so  erroneous,  as  to  require 
correction  by  the  reporter. 

Other  examples  might  be  giv- 
«  of  statements  and  reports  un- 
necessarily prolix.   There  arc  also 


cases  where  the  statements  are  kn 
complete.  But  we  shall  leave  it 
to  the  sagacity  of  our  learned  rea« 
ders  to  discover  and  point  them 
out.  On  this  subject  we  shall 
barely  mention  some  slight  inac-^ 
curacies  in  the  case  of  Harris  v» 
Clap,  &c.  [p.  308]. 

It  would  appear  from  many  parC» 
of  the  report  that  the  judgment 
was  at  law  and  not  in  equity,  Ani 
yet  the  chief  justice  speaks  (p. 
319,330)  of  the  surety  conung 
into  the  court  as  a  court  of  eqxiity 
for  relief. 

The  four  judges,  who  were  of 
opinion  for  the  plaintiff,  agree  that 
the  interest  on  the  award   shall 
commence  at    the    expiration  of 
120  days  from  the  acceptance  of 
it   in  the  common  pleas,  .which 
was  1st  Tuesday  January    1798  ; 
and  yet  the  interest  appears  to 
have  been  cast  from  the  13th  June 
179S,the  time  of  commencing  the 
suit  on  the  bond.     The  judges  do 
not  seem  to  be  agreed  as  to  the 
time,  from  which  interest  mighi  be 
computed  on  the  penalty.     Tliach- 
er  J.  fixes  on  one  himdred  and 
twenty  days  after  the  judgment  on 
the  award,  as  the  penod.    Sewall 
J-  (we  think  with  more  propriety) 
fixes  on  the  demaQd,  that  is,  the 
commencement  of  the  suit  in  the 
case  before  the  court.     It  would 
seem  that  the  judgment  was  at  law. 
The  debt  adjudged  to  the  plaint^ 
was  85000  the  penalty  of  the  bond, 
and  2U0O,55  cents,  as  damages 
for  the  detention  of  the  debt ;  and 
yet  the  true  measure  of  damages 
seems  to  have  been  declared  to  be 
the  penalty  and  interest  on  it  from 
the  commencement  of  the  suit. 
What  but  equity    prevented  the 
plaintiff  from  recoveringyiii/  mter^ 
^tj  viz.  S3035  ?    The  defendant 
did  not  ask  equity.    We  have  not 
looked  inta  thb  point.    Perfaapt 


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IK   THE  SUPREME   JUDICIAL   COURT. 


J  45 


courts  of  law  assume  the  right  of 
limiting  interest  to  the  equity  of 
the  case.  The  doctrine  may  be, 
that  the  penalty  is  forfeited,  and 
that  the  court," in  their  discretion, 
give  9uch  damages^  and  no  more, 
for  the  detention  of  the  debt,  as  the 
plaintiif  shall  have  sustained.  The 
one  sluliing  usually  given  in  Eng- 
land seems  to  imply,  that  some 
damages  must  be  given,  and  that 
less  than  the  whole  interest  may 
be  given.  It  has  not  been  usual 
here  to  give  any  damages  for  the 
detention  of  the  penalty  of  a  bond, 
and  the  framers  of  the  statute  of 
I  March,  1799  [III.  p.  29]  do  not 
Beem  to  have  conceived,  that  inter- 
est might  be  given  on  the  penalty 
or  damages  for  the  detention  of  it. 

\Vc  were  singularly  struck  with 
the  case  of  Porter  v.  Bussey.  [p. 
436.]  No  reason  is  given  for  the 
decision,  but  we  are  favoured  with 
a  very  good  argument  of  one  of 
the  learned  judges  against  it.  We 
cannot  say  what  our  opinion  might 
have  been, if  we  had  been  favoured 
with  the  reasons  of  the  court.  At 
present  we  incline  to  the  opinion 
of  the  judge,  who  dissented. 

Doubtless  other  cases  besides 
those  mentioned  will  occur  on  a 
careful  perusal  of  this  volume,  in 
which  the  critical  and  learned  rea- 
der may  be  inclined  to  think,  that 
tJic  facts  have  not  been  clearly  and 
concisely  stated,  and  the  grounds 
of  the  decision  perspicuously  re- 
ported. But  they  are  not  very  nu- 
merous, nor  are  the  defects  per- 
haps very  important.  We  think 
.the  greatest  crrour  is  on  the  side 
of  prolixity.  The  author  has  too 
often,  we  believe,  "  yielded  to  infe- 
riour  sense,  and  doubted  hb  own  ;" 
a  fault  not  very  common  at  the 
present  day,  and  which  the  re- 
porter will  probably  menrl,  if  he 
continue  to  follow  the  trade  of  an 
author.     At  the  beginning  cf  the 

Vol.  III.  No.  3.     T 


work  we  observed  a  small  impro- 
priety, which  the  reporter  seems 
himself  to  have  corrected  at  an 
early  stage.  We  mean  the  des- 
cribing of  the  action  immediately 
after  the  names  of  the  parties  z 
thus,  '*"  Debt.  This  was  an  action 
of  debt."  "Assumpsit.  This  was 
an  action  of  assumpsit,"  Sec.  But 
there  is  another  redundancy,  which 
runs  through  the  whole  work.  We 
allude  to  his  always  naming  the 
judges  who  concurred  in  the  opin- 
*  ion  stated.  We  think  the  publick 
ought  to  know,  what  judges  decid- 
ed ;  but  we  are  of  opinion,  that  tliia 
knowledge  would  be  better  com- 
municated by  stating,  in  general 
terms,  that  the  unanimity  of  the 
court  is  to  be  understood  in  every 
case,  where  a  difference  of  opin- 
ion is  not  expressly  stated  ;  and 
where  all  the  judges  did  not  at- 
tend, at  any  term,  or  in  any  partic- 
ular cause,  a  short  note  at  the  be- 
ginning or  end  of  such  teim  or 
cause,  as  the  case  may  be,  would 
have  saved  a  great  number  of  very 
unnecessary  repetitions. 

Where  a  judge  adds  nothing  to 
the  grounds  or  reasons  of  the  de- 
cision, it  seems  quite  unnecessary 

to    state    that  Mtcch  justice 

thought  the  plaintiff  was  entitled 
to  judgment,  and  not  the  defend- 
ant. It  would  be  sufficient  simply 
to  say,  that  such  justice  or  justices 
concurred. 

It  has  appeared  to  us,  that  Mr. 
W.  is  not  particular  enough  hi  his 
method  of  clung  staJi^s.  In 
some  instances  we  are  left  to  con- 
jecture what  statute  was  intended. 
The  dat^  of  our  statutes  is  geiier- 
ally  given,  but  tlie  titles ,  being 
sOnutimes  omitt'jd,  and  several 
having  been  enacted  on  the  same 
day,  considerable  time  is  sometimes 
required  to  finil  the  one  referred  to. 
We  readers  expect  that  authors 
will  spare  no  puins  to  promote  our 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


ue 


wittiAMs's  nftponi-s  of  cxst* 


case  and  convenience.  It  would 
have  been  easy  for  Mr.  W.  to  have 
referred  to  the  vohime,  pag^e,  and 
even  sectiwi  of  the  act.  \Vhen 
he  has  done  this,  we  have  found 
mir  labour  considerabrly  lessened. 

The  learned^  judges  [in  p.  60, 
61,  Stc]  speak  of  the  statutes  of 
Edward  the  thhd,  and  James  the 
iirst,  relating  to  the  office  of  justice 
of  tlie  peace.  Either  they  or  the 
reporter  should  have  hi  formed  us, 
"What  particular  statutes  were  inten- 
ded. During  the  long  rtign  of  the 
former,  no  less  than  three  hundred 
and  eighty-six  statutes  were  made. 
It  is  possible  the  judges  refer- 
red to  Edward  III.  anno  I,  c.  16, 
2  c.  6,  4  c.  2,  9  c.  5,  18-  stat.  II.  c. 
3,  18  Stat.  IV.  34  c.  1.  James  I. 
anno  7,  c.  5,  21  c.  12.  Tne  same 
remark  applies  to  some  other  En- 
glish statutes  alluded  to  hi  the  \vork. 
The  references  to  the  very  few 
authorities  cited  are  generally  cor- 
rect ;  bat  what  book  does  the  au- 
thor mean  by  I.  Wm.'s  Abr.  427, 
[cited  in  p.  50]  I  Does  he  mean  I. 
P.  Wm's  Rep.  p.  429,  or  Wm.'s 
Dig.  of  the  Stat,  law,  whkh  is  in  a 
single  volume  in  our  edition  ? 

We  have  observed  altio  a  loose 
method  of  quoting  passages  from 
statutes,  See.  These  qtiotations,  in 
our  opinion,  should  be  exact.  The 
author  is  not  obliged  to  take  any 
more  than  what  he  deems  appo- 
site ;  but  he  should  cite  literally. 
And  though  pvrhaps  the  variations 
in  this  voiume  are  not  very  mate- 
rial,  yet  tIc  condemn  the  practice 
as  leading  to  errour. 

On  a  careful  perusal  of  this  voi- 
time,  but  not  with  any  particular 
view  to  find  errours  in  gram- 
mar, or  errours  of  the  press,  we 
have  discovered,  as  we  conceive,  a 
number,  not  noted  by  the  author 
In  his  errata.  Some  of  these  we 
mhall  subjoin  to  our  report.  They 
mp%  sufficiently  numieix)us  to  prove> 


that  our  authors  and  printers  arr 
too  negligent,when  they  appear  be- 
fore the  tribunal  of  the  publick.  To 
the  haste  with  which  the  work  ap^ 
pears  to  have  been  prepared  for  the 
press,  and  run  throxigh  it^s  no  doubt 
to  be  attributed  many  of  these  uiis-' 
takes.     But,  we  think,  the  pul>lick 
Would  have  gained  more  in  cor* 
rectne'js,  tlian  they  would  have  lost 
By  delay,  if  the  piibircation  had  been 
deferred  a  few  months.     We  caa 
assure  our  readei*s,  that  we  have 
not   wished  to  find   errours.     Ir 
would  have  given  us  more  pleasure 
to  have  pronounced  the  work  fault" 
less.     Mr.    W.   is  a  lawyer,  and 
ftx>m  his  notes   it   would  appear, 
that  he  is  iio  mean  one.     We  con^ 
sider  these  notes  as  judicious,  and 
useful  in   illustrating,  and   some- 
times  ciyrrecthig  the   text.      Wc 
wished  to  meet  with  them   more 
frequently.      Professional  gentle- 
men are  greatly  indebted  to  Mr. 
Douglas  for  his  learned  and  care* 
ful  notes  in  his  very  excellent  re* 
ports.     When  the  decisions  of  the 
King^s  Bench,  with  lord  Mansfield 
at  the  head  of  it,  admit  of  illustra- 
tion and  correction  from  notes  of 
a  reporter,  no  court  in  this  coun^ 
try  can  complain  of  this  freedom 
taken   with   their  detei-minations. 
It  has,  besides,  the  sanction  of  Mr. 
Justice  Foster's  opinion  and  ex- 
ample. 

It  is  not,  perhaps,  expected  that 
we  should  review  the  decisions  and 
opinions  of  the  court,  contained  ia 
this  volume.  This  task  will  b^ 
wndeitaken  by  the  several  mem- 
bers of  the  profession,  labouring  in 
their  vocation,  by  the  publick,  bf 
our  judicial*  tribunals,  and  we  hope 
by  the  learned  judges  themselves. 
Decisions  in  this  state  have  beeit 
hitherto  so  little  regarded,  that,  we 
have  no  doubt,  some  of  these  will 
be  questioned  ;  and  that  succeedr 
ing  judges  will  go  upon  broader 


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TW-THE  SUTK»ME   XtTDICIAL   COURT. 


lif 


^gitnmd,  than  that  avowed  in  Eng- 
land, where  it  is  held,  that  judges 
are  bound  by  determinations  pro- 
viously  and  solemnly  made,  where 
the  same  points  come  again  in  liti- 
-gadon ;  except  where  the  decisions 
.arc  Tno9t  evidently  -contrary  to  rea- 
-san,  mamfcatly  absurd  or  unjust,  or 
<learly  contrary  to  the  divine  law. 
It  would,  perhaps,  be  going  too  far 
to  say,  that  any  of  the  judicial  opin- 
ions recorded  in  tins  volume  are 
-deserving  of  these  harsh  ^lithets  ; 
and  yet  we  will  venture  to  predict 
that  some  of  them  will  be  found 
incorrect  ;  and  that  tliey  will  nei- 
ther receive  the   sanction  of  suc- 
ceeding judges,  nor  the  approba- 
tion of  the  sages  of  the  law  in  the 
other  states.     We  will  venture  to 
include  in  this  number  the  decision 
[Bartlett  V.  Knight,  p.  401]   con- 
trary to  a  former  one  in  this  state, 
that  a  judgment,  brought  from  an- 
other state  in  the  union,  has  not  the 
same  effect   here,  which  it  would 
have  had  if  used  in  the   state  in 
which    it    was  recovered.*     The 
reasoning  of  the  learned  judges  (if 
It  merits  to  be  called  reasoning)  in 
support  of  their  ojMnion,  cames 
little  weight  with  it.     The  contra- 
ry was  decided  in  the  circuit  court 
of  the  U.  S.  in  Pennsylvania  [Arm- 
strong V.  Carson's  Ex'rs.   2   Dall. 
Rep.  302].     We  think,  with  Mr, 
Justice     Wilson,    that     whatever 
doubts  there  might  be  on  the  words 
of  the  constitution,  the  act  of  con^ 
gress    has     effectually     removed 
them,  having  declared  in    direct 
terms,  that  the  record  shall  have 
the  same  effect  in  the  court  into 
which  it  is  carried,  as  in  the  court 
from  which  it  was  taken.     We  are 
the  more  dissatisfied  with  this  de- 
cision, because  it  aeem*  to  savour 
of  a  spirit  of  disunion.      It  hafi 


#  The  Chief  Jttftke  and  Jostke  Straqf  wcff 


some  appearance  of  a  preference 
(which,  we  fear,  is  unjust)  of  our 
judicial  proceedings  to  those  of 
the  other  states  in  the  union. 

We  cannot  subscribe  to  some  of 
the  opinions  expressed  in  the  case 
of  Foster  v.  AblK)t  Adm'r.  [p.  234.] 
We  think  the  facts  of  the  .case  fur- 
nished a  complete  bar.  What  do 
the  learned  judges  mean  by  a  de- 
x:ree  of  insolvency  ?  If  they  mean 
a  decree  of  cUstiibution,  do  they 
intend  to  assert  that,  till  tltts  decree 
is  made,  a  creditor,  whose  claim  is 
rejected  by  the  commissioners,  and 
who  does  not  prosecute  by  way  of 
appeal  according  to  the  statute, 
may  sue  at  common  law  I 

Nor  csx\  we  yield  our  assent  to 
the  decision  in  the  case  of  Fales  v. 
Thompson,  [p.  134]  on  the  point 
that  the  assignees  of  a  bankrupt 
are  not  entitled  to  come  in  and 
prosecute  a  real  action  commejio- 
^d  by  the  bankrupt. 

In  a  -case,  circumstanced  as  that 
was,  wp  incline  to  the  x>pinion  that 
the  deed  of  Asa  Thompson,  the  fa- 
ther, was  fraudulent  as  against  the 
plaintiff. 

Other  decisions  might  be  men- 
tioned as  exceptionable  ;  but  wp 
forbear  entering  further  into  the 
subject.  If  the  learned  judges 
should  be  disposed  to  think,  that 
we  have  alreaidy  gone  too  far,  we 
trust  that  we  shall  have  their  for- 
giveness, when  they  consider  that 
we  have  differed  less  in  opinion 
with  the  court,  than  they  have  dif- 
fered from  each  other.  We  can  as- 
sure them,  3Lhat  the  observation* 
we  have  made,  have  not  proceeded 
from  a  de^re>  on  our  part,  to  dcr 
preciate  their  (earning  or  talents, 
for  which  we  have  the  most  cordi- 
al respect ;  npr  with  a  view  to  lesr 
sen  the  value  of  Mr.  W/s  labours ; 
for  we  believe,  they  will  prove  ad» 
vantageous  to  the  publick,and  hon- 
ourable,  w^    p^cerely  wish    w^ 


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148 


WILLIAMS^   11KP0X.TS   OF   CASES 


CQuld  add  profitable,  to  him  ; — ^but 
principally,  that  wc  may  have  an 
opp'ortunity  of  expressing  our  sin- 
cere conviction,  that  our  system  of 
jurisprudence  is  radically  defective, 
and  that  we  shall  never  Tiave  any 
thoroughly  examined  and  well-di- 
gested determinations,  decisions 
■which  will  stand  the  test  of  time 
and  serve  as  permament  and  fixed 
rules,  so  long  as  the  judges,  the 
depositaries  of  our  law^  are  wan- 
dering through  the  state,  without 
any  fixed  or  permanent  place  of 
abode. 

The  old  proverb  that  a  "  rolling 
stone  gathers  no  moss"  is  not  more 
true,  than  that  a  court,  constantly 
in  motion,  settles  and  establishes 
no  principles  of  law.     When  the 
principal  business  of  a  court  is  to 
travel  and  to  retail  the  law  in  every 
county  town,  is  it  reasonable  to  ex- 
pect deep  research,  nice  discrim- 
ination, or   copious  discussion  on 
legal  questions  ?    Let  our  readers 
figure  to  themselves  our  supreme 
judicial  court  in  session  at  Lenox, 
for  example.    Questions  of  law  and 
trials  of  fact  are  blended  together 
on  the  docket.     Amid  the  tumult 
and  bustle  necessarily  incident  to 
trials   by  jury,   counsel  occupied 
and  teased  with  clients,  witnesses, 
&c.  it  is  easy  to  see  how  questions 
of  law  will  be  argued,  even  by  em- 
inent counsel.     The  judges,  long 
absent  from   their    families,    can 
hardly  be  supposed  to  be  perfectly 
at  ease  in  their  minds.    Denied  all 
access  to  books,  «nd  fatigued  with 
the  labours  of  the  day,  and  liable, 
from  their  situation,  to  constant  in- 
terruptions, they  cannot  so  much  as 
have  an  opportunity  of  communi- 
cating their  sentiments,  or  of  hear- 
ing one  another's  reasons.  On  Sat- 
\irday   morning    they   must   pro* 
nounce  judgment.      Under  such 
circumstances  is  it  not  cruel  to  ex- 
mct  an  opinion,  and  ridiculous  to 


,  expect  a  matured  and  well-digest- 
ed one  ?  The  first  thoughts  which 
occur  to  a  sensible,  and  if  you 
please  to  a  learned  lawyer,  on  legal 
questions,  may  be  reasonable,  we 
grant ;  but  they  may  not  be  «o  rea- 
sonable, «o  just,  as  after  thoughts. 
The  conjectural  positions  of  natu- 
ral reason,  if  not  fortified  by  prec- 
edents, if  not  confirmed  by  ele- 
mentary writers,  or  if  they  are  not 
the  result  of  much  previous  study 
and  patient  investigation,  are  al- 
ways to  be  distrusted.  A  judge 
should  think  reasonably,  but  he 
should  think  and  reason  as  one 
"  long  accustomed  to  the  judicial 
decisions  of  hi^  predecessors."  He 
should  be  well  vei*sed  in  history, 
and  especially  in  the  history  of  the 
constitution,  laws,  manners,  and 
-customs  of  his  own  country. 

The  study  of  New-England  an- 
tiquities, if  wc  may  he  allowed  the 
expression,  is  a  necessary  qualifi- 
cation of  a  New-England  judge. 
We  recollect  having  been,  a  few 
years  ago,  strongly  impressed  with 
its  importance  on  reading  Hazard's 
Historical  Collections.  It  is  well 
known,thatin  New-England  much 
greater  regard  is  shewn  to  pro- 
bates and  letters  of  administration 
brought  from  the  neighbouring 
states,  than  is  allowed  by  the  En- 
glish law,  or  by  tlie  laws  and  usa- 
ges of  the  other  states  in  the  union. 
We  have  found  our  courts  admit- 
ting executors  and  administrators 
to  sue  here  on  the  authority  of  let- 
ters obtained  in  other  states,  tho' 
we  do  not  recollect  that  we  ever 
heard  th^m  explain  the  origin  of 
this  deviation  from  the  English 
laws. 

It  appears  from  the  journal  of 
the  commissioners  of  the  united 
colonies,  19th  of  the  7th  month, 
1 648,  [II.  Hazard,  1 24, 1 35]  «  cer- 
tain propositions  were  commended 
by  the  commissioners  to  the  con- 


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lU  THE  SUPREME   JUDICIAL    COURT. 


U9 


sideimtidil  of  the  general  courts  of 
the  several  colonies,"  which,  as  far 
as  relates  to  our  present  purpose, 
weft,  "  that,  for  the  more  speedy 
and  free  passage  of  justice  in  each 
jurisdiction,  wills,proved  and  certi- 
fied in  one  of  the  colonies,  without 
delay  be  accepted  and  allowed  in 
the  rest :  and  that  administration, 
granted  in  the  colony  to  which  the 
intestate  belonged,  being  duly  cer- 
tified, be  in  force  for  the  gathering 
io  of  the  estate  in  the  rest  of  the 
cojonies,"  By  returns  of  the  com- 
missioners, it  afterwards  appeared, 
that  all  the  general  courts  had  as- 
sented. Would  it  not  have  been 
dedrable,that  the  legislature  should 
have  made  provision  for  publishing 
eii  the  old  lavfs  of  the  province, 
rather  than  the  firivate  acts  passed 
since  the  revolution  ?  It  is  appre- 
hendcd,that  the  knowledge  of  these 
is  absolutely  necessary  to  a  thor- 
cragh  understanding  of  what  is  now 
considered  as  the  common  law  of 
this  commonwealth. 

On  perusal  of  this,  volume  of 
reports  we  were  forcibly  struck 
with  the  small  number  of  cases 
and  authorities  cited.  Those  of 
our  own  courts  do  not  exceed  ten, 
and  those  from  the  English  books, 
probably,  fall  short  of  one  hundred. 
Both  lawyers  and  judges  seem  to 
be  sparing  of  authorities,  and  lib- 
eral of  declamation  and  reasoning 
upon  general  principles.  In  this 
particular  the  ^work  unfortunately 
resembles  Root's  reports.  Decis- 
icms,  which  rest  altogether  on  the 
good  sense  of  the  judges  who  makfy 
^c  ought  not  to  say,  who  ftrO'> 
wjawf  them,  will  be  of  little  use. 
They  do  not  make,  whr.t  was  un- 
certain before  a  permanent  rule, 
^  a  rule  implies  something  bind-^ 
iog,  something  which  is  to  be  fol- 
lowed. In  such  cases  the  suc- 
ceeding judge  will  be  too  apt  to 
decide  a^  his  predecessor  did,  that 


is,  according  to  his  own  private 
sentiments  j  and  thus  we  catmot 
expect  to  have  the  scale  of  justice 
even  and  steady.  It  will  waver 
with  every  new  judge's  opinion. 

It  would  give  us  pain  to  find  ev- 
idence in  these  reports,  that  our 
learned  judges  are  unfriendly  to 
the  use  of  precedents  ;  because  it 
would  indicate  a  greater  reliance 
on  their  own  abilities,  (and  we  ac- 
knowledge they  are  great)  than 
any  men,  in  our  opinion,  are  justi- 
fied in  entertainingj  We  are  far 
from  yielding  a  blind  obedience  to 
authorities.  There  are  casesy 
which  do  not  require  them,  and 
there  are  decided  cases,  which 
weigh  little  against  clear  and  solid 
principles  of  reason.  But  it  is  well 
known,  that  the  rules  respecting 
contracts,  which  furnish  a  great 
branch  of  civil  business,  are,  in 
general,  tl^  same  in  this  and  most 
European  countries,  being  most- 
ly derived  from  the  civil  law.  We 
ought  to  avail  ourselves  of  their 
decisions.  It  is  safer  for  the  wi^ 
scst  judge  to  lean  on  the  matured 
and  well-settled  opinions  on  such 
questions,  than  on  his  own  private 
judgment.  We  are  pleased  with 
lord  Ken  yon 's  sentiments  on  this 
subject.  "  Those,  who  are  confid- 
ent m  their  own  superiour  abilities," 
says  that  sound  lawyer  and  able 
judge,  "  may  perhaps  fancy  that 
they  could  make  a  new  system  of 
laws,  less  objectionable  than  that 
under  which  they  live.  I  have  not 
that  confidence  in  mine  ;  and  am 
satisfied  by  the  decisions  and 
series  of  decisions  of  great  and 
learned  men,  on  the  rules  of  law  i 
and  it  is  my  duty,  as  well  as  my 
inclination,  to  follow  arid  give  eff 
feet  to  those  rules."  The  same 
great  judge,  speaking  of  lord 
Hardwickeobservesjthat  hisknowK 
edge  of  the  law  was  most  extraor-t 
dinary  ^   ths^t  he  had  been  train^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


IS% 


'WILLI^MB  8  RElOmrS  OF  CASSl 


nsp  Tcry  carljr  in  the  pursuit,  and 
had  the  greatest  industry,  as  well 
as  abilities,  and  in  short  was  a 
consummate  fnaster  of  the  profes- 
sion. Yet  he  observes,  "  it  was 
tiot  the  practice  of  this  great  judge 
to  give  his  opinion  on  a  sudden  ; 
tmt  after  mature  consideration,  and 
after  hearing  all  that  could  be  said 
lor  and  against  the  point  in  ques- 
tion.*** 

Judges,  who  do  not  avail  them- 
•selvcsof  the  "  light  and  assistance*' 
t>f  former  precedents,  will  be  often 
4bund  diifering  in  opinion.  In  the 
course  of  nine  months,  and  in  the 
trial  of  little  more  tlian  one  hun- 
4)red  causes,  we  have  observed  a 
dflference  of  opnion  on  the  bench 
in  no  less  than  fifteen  instances. 

In  the  King's  Bench,  during  a 
period  of  thirteen  years,  every  rule, 
order,  judgment,  and  opinion  was 
tinanimous.  Tliis  gave  weight  to 
the  decisions,  certainty  to  the  law, 
and  infinite  satisfaction  to  the  suit- 
ors. How  honourable  to  the  law, 
and  we  may  add,  to  the  judges  1 
They  were  all  men  of  unquestion- 
able abilities,  and  some  of  them,  as 
lawyers,  not  infeKourtolord  Mans- 
field himself.  But  all  were  ^  long 
personally  accustomed  to  the  ju- 
^cial  decisions  of  thdr  predeces- 
sors ;*'  all  felt  themselves  bound 
*y  them.  No  one  thought  him- 
self at  liberty  to  "decide  according 
to  his  owH  private  judgment,  but  ac- 
cording to  the  known  laws  and  cus- 
toms of  the  land.**  This  extraor- 
ifinary  unanimity  affords  the  high- 
est evidence  of  their  industry  as 
mc]\  as  candour.  Lord  Mansfield 
^Ihiding  to  itj  says,  ^  it  never  could 

*  if  onr  )odget  have  objectiom  to  the 
pase  of  Ett^b  authorities,  there  does  not 
0eem  to  be  any  reason  why  they  thould 
put  avail  themselves  of  American.  We 
(do  not  recollect  to  have  met  with  a  sin- 
gle quotation,  either  by  the  bench  or  at 
iibe  bfr,  from  Soiltvan's  LaadTitlft. 


have  happened,  if  we  did  not  t* 
mong  ourselves  communicate  our 
sentiments  with  great  freedom; 
if  we  did  not  form  our  judgmcnti 
without  any  prepossession  to  firtt 
thoughts.**  Too  many  of  our  ju- 
dicial opinions  are  nothing  but/ri/ 
thoughts. 

If  the  present  volume  of  reporti 
8lK>uld  be  less  esteemed  in  the  oth- 
er states,  than  those  of  Mr.  Dallas, 
we  think  it  will  not  be  on  account 
of  any  superiority  of  Mr.  D.otcf 
Mr.  W.  as  a  refiorter :  and  we  are 
very  unwilling  to  admit  that  the 
judges  of  Pemisylvania,  and  espe^ 
cially  of  the  comnnon  pleas,  (of 
which  court  there  are  some  excel- 
lent decisions  in  Dallas)  are  men 
of  superiour  ablKties  to  the  judgci 
of  our  supreme  court.  If  the  de* 
cisions  of  the  former  should  be 
deemed  superiour,  it  must  be  as* 
cribed  to  the  favourable  advantt^t 
under  which  they  were  made.  In 
that  state  questiotts  of  law  are  prin- 
cipally decided  in  Philadelphia,  anrf 
trials  of  fact  and  issues  of  law  are 
not  mixed  up  together  as  with  us. 
The  mention  of  Dallas's  rcporU 
reminds  us  of  a  liint  to  Mr.  AV. 
suggested  by  the  perusal  of  the 
volume  before  us.  We  have  ob- 
served in  a  few  instances  expres- 
sions which  it  would  have  been  well 

to  have  avoided,  some  of  them  pc' 
culiar  to  New^England.  Wc  have 
no  doubt  Mr.  W.  has  taken  pains 
on  this  subject ;  and  we  think  the  \ 
worki8,in  thisrespect,  more  correct 
than  any  legal  work  yet  published 
in  this  state.  Instead  of  summing 
up  to  the  jxiry,  Mr,  W.  speaks  of 
charging  the  jury  ;  for  evidence 
produced,  by  the  prosecutor,  he 
speaks  of  endence  produced  b/ 
government  ;  for  first  count  in  the 
indictment,  in  some  instances,  he 
B9ysj  Jlrtt  charge  in  the  indictment^ 
he  uses,  exceptions  madcy  inrtcad 
oitakeny  to  a  plea  ;  motiop  rej^ 


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IK  THB  Stl^llEMS  JUDrclAL    COVKt. 


t^. 


ci,  fer  motion  did  not  prevail ; 
hdding  a  term  of  tlie  court,  for  ses- 
won  ;  letters  of  guan^anship  set 
€ddey  for  revoked  or  ann uiltd ;  pass- 
ing a  decree,  for  making  a  decree. 
We  imagine  the  foregoing  expres- 
«ons  will  seldom  be  met  with  in 
correct  legal  wiitings.  But  our 
great  objection  to  this  work,  as  far 
as  Mr.  W^  is  responsible  for  it,  is 
ks  bdlk.  Its  size  is  unreasonably 
swelled  by  large  type  and  large 
margin.  By  expunging  all  unne- 
cessary matter,  compressing  what 
ought  to  be  compressed,  using  a 
type  similar  ta  that  «sed  iii  5ie 
4iODdon  edition  of  Barrow's  re- 
ports, 2d  edition,  the  work  might 
have  been  compiized  within  some- 
thing le&6  than  half  its  present 
bulk.  It  might  have  been  pub- 
lished as  the  ^rst  fiart  of  volume 
Jirtt^  to  the  great  saving  of  the 
purse  and  time  of  purchasers  and 
readers. 

This  work,  though  "  sent  to  its 
account  with  all  its  imperfections 
on  its  head,"  (and  they  are  not  a 
few)  We  nevertheless  recommend 
to  the  profession  and  to  our  read- 
ers. We  sincerely  hope  Mr.  W. 
will  persevere.  We  wish  him  a 
double  portion  of  the  spirit  of  pa- 
tience and  labour.  He  already 
possesses  judgment  and  accuracy 
of  thinking  ;  and  we  will  venture 
to  assure  him,  that  he  will  in  due 
l5me,  if  he  faint  not,  inherit  the 
reputation  of  an  excellent  repor- 
ter. Let  him  always  bear  in  mind, 
and  let  it  animate  him  to  use  dou- 
ble diligence,  that  the  man,  who 
employs  his  time  and  talents  in 
transmitting  to  posterity  with  ac- 
cnracy,  precision,  and  true  judg- 
ment, a  history  of  cases  of  weight 
ind  difficulty,  is  a  real  benefactor 
to  the  publick  :  And  surely  there 
Bever  was  a  time,  when  such  la- 
bours, however  they  may  be  apprc- 
ckud,  were    so   much   &^ed* 


They  cannot  do  all  the  good  thcjr 
ought  J  but  they  will  do  much* 
The  legislature  must  do  the  rest. 
We  Fwspectfully  entreat  that  hon- 
ourable body  to  consider  %he  ju-' 
diciary  as  an  object  of  much  the 
greatest  importance  of  any  confi- 
ded  to  thek  care.  We  believe  it 
IS  in  their  power  to  lay  the  foun-* 
datioH  of  a  system  of  juiisprudencey 
which  in  a  few  years  may  evea 
equal  that  of  Great-Britain.  To 
accomplish  this,  it  is  indispensable 
that  the  trial  of  facts  and  law  be 
separated.-  The  former  should  b« 
in  each  county,  and  the  latter  in 
one,  or,  at  most,  in  two  or  three 
stated  places.  There  is,  in  the 
nature  of  things,  no  more  reason 
why  questions  of  law  should  be  de-' 
terminetl  in  each  county,  than  that 
the  statutes  should  be  framed  and 
enacted  in  each  county.  County 
tines  have  nothing  to  do  with  ei- 
ther ;  and  it  is  just  as  proper  that 
the  legislature  should  be  ambulato- 
ry, as  that  a  court,  nof  of  trialj^ 
but    of   law,  should  be   so« 

Let  the  legislature  shorten  their 
own  sessions,  and  apply  the  saving; 
to  the  sQpport  of  the  judiciary. 
The  people  would  be  every  way 
gainers.  In  England  the  jucUciary 
costs  the  nation  a  large  sum  ;  but 
not  half  so  mueh  as  it  is  worth  s 
the  legislature...nothing.  In  thi» 
fltate  the  legislature  costs  the  state 
a  large  sum,  the  judiciary  ...a  mere 
ti*ifie.  It  is  time  to  abuidon  the 
expectation  of  law  from  a  court  of 
pie-poudre.  Letfiot  this  institu- 
tton  of  reporter  be  suffered  to  lan- 
guish and  4^C)  ^^P  wsjoi  of  eikx)ur- 
agement.  Let  the  legislature 
strengthen  the  ^  things  that  ate 
ready  to  perbh."  We  may  th^n 
look  forward  through  the  numfl* 
iation  and  gloom  of  the  present 
time  to  the  period,  when  our  ju-* 
dicature  shall  lift  up  its  head  amon^ 
the  states  ^  and  when  our  judicial 


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155 


tlF«     or     DR.   HOPKIKS. 


decisions  shall  become  the  envy  of 
our  neighbours,  and  the  admira- 
tion of  the  world. 

Since  the  publication  of  this 
volume  the  publick  liave  sustained 
a  great  loss  in  the  death  of  the 
venerable  Judge  Strong.  His  in- 
integrity  never  was  called  in  ques- 
tion. He  was  a  sound  lawyer,  and 
well  versed  in  the  most  dry  and 
.  least  attractive  branch  of  the  pro* 
fession...the  doctrine  of  pleading. 

Errata  not  noted  by  the  author. 


P.  3  1.35 
]6«     28 


483 
S3 


S9 


42 
45 


%' 


read  21 


for  "  26  February, 
February. 

14,  after  ••  county,"  strike  out  the 
six  following  words. 
4,  for  •*  constitution"  read  con- 
struction. 

29,  for  **  prima"  read  primae.** 
20,  the  sentence  following  is  unin- 
telligible. 

58,  margin,  expunge  the  wo»d  "  taken." 
87  L21,  for  **  this  meedng"  read  their 

meeting. 
92    20,  for  **  diversion"  r.  diverting. 
101,  margin  at  bottom  and  index  ^deceit** 
for  "  an  action  brought  against 
him   for   the   articles,"  r.  for  an 
action  brought  against  Ynmfor  the 
pties  of  the  articles. 
1 04,  margin,  for  "promisser"  r.  promitsee. 

134  1. 24,  and  margin,  for  "February  27" 

r.  February  26. 

135  29,  for  «*  June  28,  1801"  r.  June 

23,  1800,  (prokaUy,) 
152,  note,  last  line,  for  "March  10,1784,- 

read  February  6,  1784. 
198,  margin, "  Particular  statutes  of  in- 
solvency" would  be  more  proper 
than  **  Statutes  of  bankruptcy." 
See  V.  Acts  of  Cong.  sec.  61  p.8I, 
flOl  1.28,  for  "  account"  read  decree. 
802    28,  for  "  plead"  read  pleaded. 

4,  for  •Huiministrator"  r.  executor. 

15,  and  index  "  Statutes  of  Common' 
wealth;*  for  "  19th  June"  read 
20th  June. 

25,  for  "no  statute*^  read  a  statute. 

34,  for  "  exigences"  r.  exigencies. 

20,  for  "  are"  read  were. 
1 ,  for  "  were"  read  was. 

10,  the  sentence  following  is  in- 
correct. 

34,"pre8cripiion"i8  not  the  proper 
word. 


203 
S04 


807 
S62 
MU 
S86 


427 


430      2,  for  «*  were  «wom   r.  were  no* 

sworn. 
445     1 3,  for  **  was  sufficient"  r.  was  not 

sufficient. 
454       1,  dele  semicolon  after  "  contest- 
ed."   There  are  many  errcurs  in 

the  punctuation. 
460       6 ,  for  "9th  section"  r.  10th  secttoo. 
475     32,  for  "  afford"  read  offend. 
495     17,  "  Judgment   arrested,"  quere 

de  hoc. 

Index. 
«  Courts,**  1. 5,  for  "  objection  may  be  ta* 

ken"  r.  objection  may  be  made. 
"  Dedaralionr  for  "  had"  r.  bad. 
"  Evidence^*  1. 1,  for  "indorscr"  r-indoneck 
"  Joinder  in  action,**  for  "  180"  r.  48a 
"  iV>v  triai,**  1. 4, 5,  for  *^539."  r.  530,541. 
«  Revi^  4,"  for  "  157"  read  16a 
"  Statutes  of  the   Commonvoealtb  1786,  J^ 

7  (References),**  for  "  443"  r.  158. 

It  is  possible,  that  the  copy  of 
the  statutes,  &c.  cited  and  referred 
to,  which  we  have  used,  may  be 
incorrect  ;  for  very  few  of  our 
publications,  not  even  excepting 
the  statutes,  have  any  prctendons 
to  correctness. 

ART.  14. 
Sketches  qf  the  life  qf  the  late  Eeu, 
Samuel  Hopkins,  D,  D.  pastor  (f 
the  first  congregational  church  in 
J^ewporty  written  by  himself ;  in- 
terspersed with  marginal  note* 
extracted  from  hh  private  diary: 
To  which  is  added,  a  dialogue,  by 
the  same  hand,  on  the  nature  and 
extent  qf  true  christian  submis- 
sion ;  also,  a  serious  address  to 
prqfessing  christians  :  closed  by 
Dr,  Hart's  sermon  at  hisfunerai 
With  an  introduction  to  the  whole 
by  the  editor.  Published  by  Ste- 
phen West,  D.  D,  pastor  of  the 
church  in  Stockbridge.  Hart- 
ford, Hudson  &  Goodwin.  1805. 
pp.  240. 

Nothing  but  the  celcbiity  of 
Dr.  Hopkins's  name  would  have 
induced  us  to  give  that  attention  to 
thes^  memoirsj  which  is  common- 
ly expected  of  reviewers  j  fiw:  «« 


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hopes  and  fears  are  simUai^  tothosa 
of  Dr.  Hopkins. 

These  sketches  are  introduced 
by  some  proper  remarks  of  the  ed-» 
itor,  written  m  a  much  better  style, 
than  any  other  part  of  the  volume^ 
The  facts  b  Dr.  Hopkins's  life,  as 
in  the  life  of  every  stiidious  inan, 
are  few.  We  learn,  that  he  was 
bom  Sept.  17,  1721,  and  died  Dec* 
30,  1803  ;  that  he  was  admitted 
into  Yale  college  at  the  age  of  six-* 
teen  ;  that  he  resided  much  in  the 
family  of  President  Edwards,  with 
whom  he  studied  divinity  ;  that  he 
was  settled  first  at  Housatonock, 
1743  ;  that  he  Was  dismissed  in 
1769,  by  the  advice  of  a  council, 
on  account  of  the  deficiency  in  his 
pecuniary  support  ;  that  he  was 
afterward  invited,  after  much  oppo- 
sition, to  settle  at  Newport ;  that 
his  enemies  were  at  length  recon-* 
clled  to  his  sentiments  J  that  he 
was  ordained  there  April  11,  1770, 
and  continued  with  this  people, 
through  many  difficulties  and  dis« 
couragements,  till  tlie  day  of  his 
death. 

These  tnemoirs  contalti  also 
some  domestick  anecdotes,  and, 
what  will  be  more  interesting  to 
the  theological  reader,  some  ac** 
cotmt  of  the  controversies,  in  which 
the  Doctor  tras  engaged.  As  he 
has  given  his  name  to  a  laf ge  and 
respectable  class  of  christians  in 
the  United  States,  it  may  not  be 
uninteresting  to  our  readers  to 
hftve  a  regular  list  of  the  Doctor's 
pubUkations.  The  principal  ben<* 
cfit,  which  he  is  supposed  by  his 
friends  to  have  conferred  upon  the 
science  of  theology,  may  be  stated 
in  the  words  of  the  fond  editor  of 
this  little  volume. 

To  Do6koT  Hopkins  afc  we  indebted 
for  a  better  uoderfbtnding  of  the  deliga 
and  end  of  what  are  generally  termed 
ti^t  means  o/grace^  and  their  ufe  and  appli* 


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1 14 


iitB-^o^.  D«.  n0§tiim,. 


tatrofk  tfr  tit^  rtfpeB  hmpemUnt^  trnfn^trt-i 
id  ftmnersy  than   was  before   had.      His 
difcerning  mind,  in  the  early  part  of  his 
publick  miniflry,  difcovcred  a   roanifeft 
hiconfiftcncy  in  the  exbortaticm  and  direc 
Hens  given  t9  unhelie^trs  by  eminent  divinet,- 
with  the   doffrina  they  pubiickly   taught 
and   ftrenuoufly    maintained.     Though 
the  doctrine  of  the  total  moral  depravi- 
ty and  corrupiioa  of  the   human  heart 
ttas  clearly  taught,  and  forcibly  urged 
by  Calviniftick  divines  ;   s^nd,  ctear  evi- 
«knce  produced  from  the  litoly  fcriptur**, 
that  aU  the  exercifas  of  the  natural  heart 
—all  the  doings  and  ferviccs  tjf  unregen- 
erate  linncrs,  were,  not  only  unaccepta- 
ble, but  hateful  in  the  fight  of  God ;  yet 
tbfucb  doings  and  feri*ic€s  did  the  Unrcgen- 
erate  find  thcnrfelves  exhorted  and  urg- 
ed ;  and  this  as  the  appointed  way  to  obi- 
tain  the  favour  of  God  aud  converting 
grace.      Though  the  do^rinet  were  juU 
atid  fcriptural,  the  enlcrtatknt  naturally 
operated,  rather  againft,  than  in  favour 
of   the   finii«r'8    fenlible   coiiticlioD  of 
fhcir     ufh.     By  attending  tD  the   Doe- 
tor's  writmgs  on  this  iniporunt  fubje^, 
it  foon  became  obvious,  that,  as  the  holy 
fcriptures  require  the  immediate  exercife 
<ff  god\f  forrow  and  repentance,  fipner* 
9i  no  defcription  are  e^fer  to  be  exhort- 
ed to  any  oth«r  doingSy  or  fuppofed  dit- 
ties, thaA  fuch  as  imply  love  to  God*  and 
holinefs. 

No  unin{]piired  divine,  before  Do^Htor 
Hbpkins,  had  ever  fct  this  fubjeiSl  in  » 
proper  and  fcriptnrai  light.  And  the 
ben,efit  derived  to  the  cbri(Uan  clule, 
fipva  \\U  writings  on  this  intere;Aing  and 
important  fubjedk,  is  fulficient  to  com- 
peiifate  the  ftudy  and  kbuurs  of  a  whole 
Kfe.    P:9, 

The  first  publicatfcn  of  Dr.  H. 
vras  three  sentione,  entitled,  "  Sin 
through  divine  interfiofdiioftj  an  ad* 
vantage  to  the  imivene^  and  yet 
this  7¥)  excwtefor  sin  or  encourage'*^ 
TnetH  tit  itr  \7S9.  These  had 
a  second  edition  in  Boston  1773, 
and  one  in  Edinburgh  about  the 
sviie  tin)^.. 

In  the  year  1765- wa«  puh&hecl' 
w  An  mquiry  concerning  the  firom-^ 
i^8  of  the  gotiflelj  Whether  any  of 
them  are  made  to  the  exercises  and 
doings  c^fieraonft  in  an  imregenerate 
$tiUe  i     Containing  ranarh  on  two 


9&rmm9ypubU9ked  ty  t>t.  Mayhul^ 
(^  Boston,**  A  reply  was  made 
to  this  book  by  Mr.  Mills,  a  c^-' 
vinistick  minister  in  Connecticut* 

fa  lf€^t  a  fertrion  ^ich  T  pfeachcrf 
ift  the  old  (buth  mceting--houf<ft  in  Boftotf 
was  pubiifhed  at  the  defire  of  a  number 
of  the  hearers.  The  title  •#  it  it,  ••  Tk 
importance  and  ^eaffity  of  eBrtJUatu  ma- 
JiJeriag  Jcfui  Cbrifi  in  iht  extent  of  fas 
hi^h  and  gUrious  chariSerl*  The  text 
Hebrews  iii.  1 .  H^  was  compofed  witir 
a  defi^  to  preach  ft  in  Bolfen,  as  I 
exf>e<^ed  foon  to  ^  there,  vnder  a  coik 
viaion  that  the  docfMoe  of  thtf  divinity 
of  Chriil  was  much  negledted,  if  not  dif-' 
believed  by  a  number  of  the  miniftert 
in  Bofton. 

In  the  fame  year  I  pnblif^ed  two  f^- 
mons,  one  from  Romans  vit.  7.  the  ethtf 
froirt  John  i.  13.  contatnfog  6xty-fivef 
pages  in  a  fmall  comprehenfive  type.  A 
fccond  edition  of  thtffe  fennons  wtt 
printed  in  17^3. 

In  the  year  17^9  1  puW!fhed mr  a*- 
(W«t  to  Mr  Mills  of  one  hundred  eigh- 
ty four  pagCT»  oiSkavo,  on  a  fmall  compre- 
henfive type.  The  followiiig  was  the  li-* 
tie  of  it^  •*  Itbe  true  fiate  and  charaSUr 
of  the  unre^eneraUi  fitipped  of  all  mif" 
ftprf.ntation  and  difgwifr-^^^l  believe 
this  book,  with  what  wis  afterwardr 
pabfiihed  Oft  the  ^ne  fubyea,  was  the 
meant  of '  fpreading  and  giving  mncll 
light  and  convidKoa,  with  refpe^t  to  the 
real  character  and  doings  of  the  unre-^ 
generate  ;  and  has  in  a  great  meafilrr 
put  a  ftop  to  exhorting  the  nnregenerate 
tedo  duty  in  order  to  obtain  regeoeri- 
tioo,  which  was  very  common  aflBoajf 
preoeheFB  before  iftiat  tim«»     P*  ^5. 

The  bold  positions,  contained  in 
these  works  of  Dr.  Hopkins,called 
forth  remarks  frorti  several  of  that 
class  of  divines,  Virho  chose  to  b» 
called  moderate  calvinKts.  We 
prefer  to  relWe  the  progress  of  the 
controversy  in  the  tmanectfed  sim- 
plicity, and  self-complacency  of 
the  Doctor's  own  language. 

In  ifie  latter  end  of  the  year  I7flft  •' 
beginning  of  1 770,  Mr.  William  Hart  si 
Saybrook  publiflied  a  dialogue,  under 
the  following  title,  *«  Brief  remarks  on  a 
number  of  falfe  pofitions,  and  dangeroos 
mtaw9,  wluek  at«  ^nsidA^g  in   ^^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


tmt  :or  -Bft.  ffpvfciKf. 


ridsS 


dcourfos  Jju^iv  pubJiihed,  wrote  by  Dr. 
Whitaker  aod  Mr.  Hopkius."  And  fooa 
jiter  there  was  a  fmall  pamphlet  pub- 
Cihed,  which  was  doubtlcfs   written  by 


iitradted  andipd  the  loflueaee  deficpcd  ; 
and  probably  had  a  contrary  efFe^  m 
the  iflue.  ' 

This  occafioned  my  writing  remark* 
on  thofe  publications  ;  efpeciaily  the  dia- 
4ogiie,  with  the  following:  title.  **  Afur 
MUi/ver^MS  M  Mr,  HarCt  late  diaUgu^^ 
ui  a  letter  to  a  fr'uud^  This  was  •  pub- 
lifljed  in  «he  fpring  of  1770,  containing 
only  thirty  one  pages,  to  which  I  did 
not  attempt  particularly  to  vindicate  the 
do<ftrines  I  iiad  publifhed-;  but  rather  to 
ihow  the  uofairoels  and  difingenuity  of 
Mr.  Hart,  and  his  falfehoods,  and  iclf- 
contradt<£lions,  in  what  he  had  written. 

Mr.  Mills  did  not  make  any  reply  to 
my  anfwerto  him.  But  as  I  had  alTerted 
in  that  anfwer,  that  vn regenerate  iiAner* 
do  not  do  any  duty,  Mr.  Ihimmen.way. 
(new  Dr.)  having  before  pubLThed  eight 
iermous  to  eflablini  the  conirary,  wrote  a 
book  of  one  hundred  twenty  leven  p^- 
^^  Oiflavo,  againft  me  and  my  po(ition« 
^nd  publiflied  it  in  the  year  1772.  Tl^ 
year  before,  the  above  mentioned  Mr. 
Hart  wrote  a  pamphlet  againft  Prefi- 
4ent  Edwards' pi  niertation  on  the  nature 
of  true  virtue,  in  which  he  repeatedly 
mentioned  my  uame  and  writings  with 
dHapprobation.  And  about  the  fame 
time,  Mr.  Molet  Mather  (now  Doaor) 
fmbliiheii  a  piece  in  which  he  condemn- 
ed fentimeots  found  in  Prelident  £d« 
wards*,  Dodlor  Bellamy's  and  my  wril- 
iogs. 

As  I  was  fcnfible  the  difference  be- 
tween me  and  thefe  authors  originated  in 
OUT  different  ideas  of  the  nature  of  true 
hotinefs,  in  1773  I  publifhed  a  book  of 
two  hundred  twenty  pages,  o<Skavo,  con- 
taining, ••  An  emfuiry  into  tht  naturt  of 
Hrue  Minefs  ;  wi/A  am  af>f*nJix**  in 
which  I  anfwered  the  publications  above 
mentioned.  That  on  the  nature  of  true 
faolinefs  had  a  fecond  edition  of  one 
thoofand  five  hundred  copies,  in  tht 
year  1791.  Mr.  Hart  and  Dodlor  Math- 
er wrote  no  more.  But  DoAor  Hem* 
menway  published  retnarks  on  ray  an» 
fwer  to  him,  in  1774,  contaioti^  on« 
hundred  fixty  fix  pages,  o^avo.  But  u 
•little  or  nothing  wat  in  this  added  to 
what  was  contained  in  his  firft  book,  and 
It  contained  perfonal  reflexions,  and  too 
much  heat  and  baughtineft  ;  til  which 
he  confcfTed  to  me  afterwards  in  a  per- 
fonal Interview,  T  did  not  think  it  worth 
while  to  take  any  publick  notice  of  it. 
And  1  believe  it  was  not  much  read,  and 
had  but  little  influence  on  the  mvoAk 
of  any.    i^.  100. 


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19< 


UK.  eocs's  rHAuocrmAL  DittsmrATzoir. 


The  other  works  of  Dr.  HopV 
Idns  are,  "  A  dialogue  concerning' 
the  slavery  of  Africans^  Vc  1776, 
reprinted  by  the  Abplition*Society 
in  New^York,  1785,  with  an  ap^ 
pendix  by  the  author.—^ — •^^An  en^ 
guiry  concerning  thefvXure  state  (^ 
those  %t>ho  die  in  their  sins**  pvo.  pp. 
400. 1783.  ■  System  o/DoctrineSy 
l5*c.  2vols.  8vo.  pp.1244.  17^3. 
For  this  the  author  unexpectedly 
yeqeived  nine  hundred  dojlars. 
•<  Ufe  ofSi4sannah  Anthony  ;  do,  of 
J^s,  Osborn^*  This,  we  believe 
is  a  complete  li^t  of  the  works  of 
Pr.  H.  published  in  his  lifetime. 
In  the  present  volun^e  however 
arc  contained  two  tracts,  which 
•were  probably  ^^teemed  worthy  of 
preservation. 

The  first,  entitled  <«  A  Dialogue 
between  a  Calvinist  and  a  Semi* 
f^vinist,**  proves,  to  the  perfect 
conviction  of  the  Semicalvinist, 
that  he  ought  to  be  willing  to  be 
damned.  After  the  doctiine  is 
proved,  the  advantages  of  it  are 
summed  up  by  the  OSvinist  in  the 
loiiowing  words : 
f 

It  it  ftutcd  te  •nltrgv  tli«  mind  of  thf 
fhnfHaa,  and  co  extend  his  ideas  and 
thoughts  to  obje^  which  ar^  great  and 
immense,  and  to  wake  up  the  feelinga 
and  eiercHes  of  didotereOed  benevo- 
lence, of  fqpreme  love  f  Ck>d,  and  r^ 
gard  to  the  general  good,  which  fwaj- 
lows  up  aod  forgets  his  o^n  perfonal  in»> 
tereft,  as  nothing,  ia  coniparifon  ^th 
thefe  grand  obJM^.  This  ^ill  help 
him,  in  the  heft  and  eafiei^  manner  to 
diftingoiOi  between  true  religion  and 
falfe  :  and  to  obtain,  and  maintain  th^ 
evidence  in  his  pwn  mipd,  that  he  it  a 
Iriend  to  God*  and  has  that  benevo(eoce 
in  which  holineis  does  fununarily  confift. 

This  will  prepare  him  to  acquiefce  ip 
the  eternal  deftry Aion  of  thofe  whp 
perifli,  and  even  to  rfjoice  in  it,  u  noc 
ceflary  for  the  glory  of  Qod,  and  thf 
grcateft  good  of  the  whole,  in  the  ezer- 
cife  of  that  difinterefted  beneyoleocet 
which  makes  him  to  be  willing  to  be  one 
^  that  0aful ,  wretched  number,  were  thit 
l^f^cCary  tQ  anfwer  thefe  fndf.     i*.  16^ 


We  have  lately  read  of  a  curiom 
fact  respecting  the  alligators  of  the 
Missisippi,  that,  in  the  fail)  they 
swallow  pitch  pine  knots,  which 
remain  in  their  stomachs  duiing 
their  wintry  torpor,  and  probably 
are  chosen  on  account  of  their  dif« 
i|cult  digestion  to  keep  the  coats 
of  the  stomach  fropi  collapsing. 
If  any  plain  honest  christian  wish- 
es to  exercise  his  intellectual  diges- 
tion,  and  prevent  the  evil  effects  of 
religious  security  an^  torpor,  we 
recommend  this  tract,  as  contain* 
ing  as  knotty  a  point,  as  he  will 
probably  find  among  the  stores  of 
theological  nutriment,  which  the 
ingenuity  of  polemicks  has  pro- 
vided. 

The  second  traqt  i$  an  address 
to  christians  upon  the  signs  of  the 
times.  Many  great  and  good  men 
.  have  imagined,  that  thej^  had  cer- 
tainly expls^ecji  the  prophecies  of 
scripture ;  but  we  a^  inclined  still 
tp  believe,  notwithstanding  the  la* 
hours  of  Dr.  Hopkins,  that  no 
prophecy  of  scripture  is  of  any  pri- 
vate interpretation. 

A  discourse  by  pr.  Hart  of 
Prestont  upon  the  death  of  the  exf 
cellent  subject  of  these  memoirif 
concludes  the  volume. 

We  are  sorry  to  say,  that  th^ 
style  pf  Dr.  H.,  in  tliese  posthur 
mous  works,  is  too  often  incorrupt, 
vulgar,  and  colloquial.  Instances 
of  false  grammar  are  not  rare,  and 
the  coinage  of  sych  Y^ord^  as 
itinerate^  and  reluctate^  add$  npth» 
ing  to  the  copiousness  pr  purity  of 
the  English  language. 

ART.  15. 
An  inaugural  Hissertatipn  on  respU 
ration.  Subpfiitfed  to  the  pufdck 
exafninqtion  of  the  Faculty  if 
Physiekf  under  the  authority  of 
the  trustees  of  Columbia  college^ 
in  the  state  of  JSTewjfork^  the  Hi, 
Rev,BeniaminMoore^DJ),  fireS' 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


nrOWDEN's  RIITORT  OF   AMERICA* 


1S7 


ident  ;  Jhr  the  degree  of  Doctor 
of  Phynck^  on  the  15fA  day  qf 
MvemSer,  1805.  By  Thomas 
Cock^  citizen  of  the  state  of  Kev>» 
York.  New-York,  printed  by 
T.  8c  J.  Swords.     1805. 

Ik  an  inangnral  dissertation  wp 
look  not  for  novelty,  but  we  have 
aright  to  expect  accuracy  ;  and 
our  opinion  of  the  candidate  for 
collegiate  honours  is  drawn  from 
the  principles  and  sentiments  he 
has  adopt^.  The  author  of  the 
dissertation  before  us  has  evidently 
given  some  time  to  the  investiga- 
tioDof  the  subject  which  he  dis- 
cQsses,  and  the  work  contains  u^e- 
fol  information.  We  regret,  that 
it  is  not  marked  by  that  accuracy 
which  wc  arc  authorized  to  expect, 
and  which  in  scientifick  works  b 
peculiarly  necessary. 

The  only  opinions  which  arc 
new  to  us,  or  to  the  medical  world 
in  gencrah  are  those  quoted  from 
Mr.  Davy.  We  regret,  that  we 
have  not  had  the  good  fortune  to 
see,  and  cannot  procure  the  works 
of  Mr.  Davy.  The  opinion,  that 
azote  as  Well  as  oxygen  is  absorb- 
ed by  the  pulmonick  blood,  we 
•arely  cannot  controvert,  and  so 
&r  as  speculation  will  authorize  us 
ve  art  disposed  to  subscribe  to  it. 
The  other  opinion,  adopted  from 
Davy,  cannot  be  so  easily  admits- 
ted.  This  is,  that  air,  or  the  mix- 
ture of  oxygenous  and  azotick 
gasses,  not  oxygen  and  azote  which 
iom  the  b^kse  of  air,  is  received 
into  the  blood.*  Dr.  Cock  has 
<}aoted  no  experiments  which  con- 
irm  this  opinion,  and  it  is  not  so 
plausible,  as  to  command  assent 
unsuj^rted  by  facts. 


•  htWi  MckdyMr.  Dtvy^opinloiiF  W^ 
ntesa^d  k  to  tnm  Dr.  Cock*i  tfinmitlon; 
«K«  fcfeicacc  to  Tbomiwoa  and  Bottoclr  htm 
Wmtomipect.tlutMr.  D.  bcUerct  only,  tlu| 


ART  16. 
ne  history  of  JVorth  and  South 
America^  from  its  discovery  to 
the  death  of  General  Washings 
ton.  By  Richard  Snowden.  2 
vols,  12mo.  Philadelpliia.  Jacob 
Johnson.     1805. 

Thx  author  of  the  above  mcn« 
tioned  work  observes  in  his  pro- 
face  that,  ^  In  what  relates  to 
South  Amedca,  Dr.  Robertson's 
History  has  been  implicitly  fbl- 
lowed.  His  arrangement  of  the 
subject,  his  chronological  order, 
and  bis  very  style  have  been  adop^ 
ted,  ^  ^^  l>^9t  that  can  be  chosen. 
To  condense  his  details,  to  intro- 
duce only  the  most  prominent  and 
characteristick  events,has  been  the 
principal  effort,  and  invariable  pur« 
pose  of  the  epitomizer  :  endeav- 
ounng,  as  he  progressed,  to  pre- 
serve unbtt>ken  the  connexion  aM 
continuity  of  events  ;  and  in  the 
ivhole,  to  present  the  reader  with 
a  brief,  but  interesting  view,  of  one 
of  the  most  important  xras  in  the 
annals  of  the  world.'* 

The  author  appears  to  have  been 
considerably  successful  in  the  ex** 
ecution  of  hb  proposed  plan.  The 
History  commences  with  the  dis- 
covery of  America  by  Columbus, 
and  relates  the  formidable  difficult 
ties  be  was  obliged  to  encounter  ; 
the  talents  and  perseverance  which 
he  ci^hibited  in  combating  those 
difficulties  ;  and  the  ungrateful 
and  ungenerous  returns  which  the 
Spanish  nation  made  to  his  eniK 
nent  services.  It  relates  the  suc<^ 
ceeding  discoveries  of  the  new 
world  ;  the  conquest  of  the  Mex^ 
ican  and  Peruvian  empires  ;  and 
<:oncludes  with  their  entire  subject 
tion  to  the  kingdom  of  Spain. 

The  second  volume  begins  with 
relating  the  conjectures  which  have 
been  made  respecting  the  peopling 
of  America ;  it  gives  the  ch^cte^* 


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tm 


irtTi«s  or  cviAMf^s  wifttyt  twtm 


x>f  the  Indiamiattvcs  ;  the  state  of 
the  British  colonies  at  the  termina'- 
tion  of  the  French  war  ;  of  theu* 
4kttercation  with  the  parent  counr 
iry  ;  it  proceeds  to  give  a  getwral 
.AtaechiQf.tbe  An^eiican  war^  and 
tiie  acceptance.of  the  federal  coa- 
#titutioB  ;  it  inserts  the  &reweU 
.adki^ess  of  Cenerai  Washington, 
4a  1796  »  and  concludes  with  a 
description  of  his  person^ 

Though  this  work  is  acompila- 
4kin  almost  entirely  in  the  words 
pf .other  authors,  it  contains  much 
iMeiul  miortxkBX^  for  those  read- 
ers* wU  have  boC  time  tP  peruse, 
|ikd  eaaoot  tas^y  ploc^r)b  larger 


NOTICES 

iCifMis^  JJnea  ^  the  PtaftUe  qf 
Phy9kk.  By  WiHiam  CuUen^ 
M.  D,  tfc.     WUk  praetieml  and 

'  €XfUtaHUor\f  note&f  by  John  Rothm 
eramf  Jl£  D,  New  York  s 
Printed  \^f  L.  NichoUa>  for  L 

-  SUey&Co. 

WE  are  rejoiced  to  see  Cul|eB 
jgk  m  ifirraRT  ^tteiioan^dress.  Per* 
imps  his  i^eneial  correctness,  his 
^DOootrovertiUe  practice,  and  his 
fHqMraUeled  popularity,  entitle  him 
40  aiDse  elegant  habiliments  than 
Ams  in  which  he.  here  appears 

It  is  tmneeessary  to  reeorameod 
-CoHeafs  pnu^tice  of  physick  to  the 
-MBuaal  of  phyaiciana.  We  Ten* 
mre  to  advise  the  medical  tyro  t» 
<#x  all  the  pMcticai  patt  of  the 
irork  firmly  in  his  memory.  He 
•«rill  find  ittore  advantage  fcom.be* 
ing  tkiorougfaly  possessed  of  it^ 
Ihiin  liN>m  nianing  through  a  hunt 
idred  of  your  Oarwims  and  Bed- 
^^•tfl^  and  others  like  themu  The 
ijaipqrf  of  sposs^  an4  coUapse,  m^ 


^^cli  Cullen  prided  Mmself  as  the 
greatest  effort  of  his  genius,  is  £aJ- 
len  with  many  more  theories,  and 
m41I  he  followed  by  others  innume- 
rable, till  physicians  return  to  Hip« 
pocrates,  and  learn  to  ohserre  na- 
ture, before  they  reason  on  her  op* 
etations.  The  loss  of  this  theory 
does  not  afibct  the  practice  of  Cul* 
len,  which  remains  a  model  of  ei^ 
cellence. 

The  edition  be&Mre  us  is  execute 
ed  with  a  good  types  on  tolerable 
p^>er,  and  is  about  as  free  from 
typograpliical  erroiu^  as  Amer» 
lean  editions  of  medical  worl^ 
generally  arc.  This  work  was  fofb 
jnerly  printed  in  four  vdumes, 
^en  compressed  to  two,  and  now 
the  printer  ha*  contrived  to  com* 
pel  the  whole  into  a  single  volume. 
JHence  tjse  type  sf>pears  verj 
crowded,  and  the  nqites  are  in  s 
character  so  small,  as  barely  to  be 
legible.  It  is  copied  from  Rotheiv 
am^s  edition.  That  by  R^  is  ia> 
ter,  and  the  notes  are  more  appro- 
priate, though  fewer  in  number. 
Bosquillon,  the  French  translator 
of  CuHen,  has  given  very  copious 
and  valuable  notes  on  this  work 
These  would  be  a  considerable  so* 
quisition  to  English  medical  liters* 
ture.  They  would  enhance  the 
value  of  Dr.  Culien's  book,  and  at 
the  same  time  posses  the  advan* 
tage  of  affording  a  comparative 
■view  of  French  and  English  med 
icine. 

We  have  been  informed,  that  it 
is  contemplated  to  publish  this 
work  at  Worcester.  It  is  desira* 
hiey  that  it  ahouU  appear  in  a  style 
•uiled  to  th^  meiAs  o(  the  weak, 
and  to  the  extensive  cmulatioa 
insured  it.  The  aherstion  of 
names  of  medical  simples  and 
compounds,  to  those  of  the  last 
Cdihbur^  phartnaC!(;^)^dii  or  db« 
Mnsatory,  would  increase  the  yal* 
ue  of  the  bocki  And  save  studcbtt 


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Hottex  Of  oodiriii^  ftntti^ow. 


U9 


^  kbour  of  referring  to  oki  phar-^^ 
Biacopeias. 


fUHvood  j  or  J  The  J^<rt»  Mm  of 
Feeimg,  By  William  Godwin, 
In  two  -volumes.  New  York  : 
trinfed  for  I.  Riley  k  Co.  N^. 
i,  City-Hotel.     1805* 

Tbough  the  first  talents  are 
iecessary  to  the  production  of  a 
good  novel,  wrhfngs  of  this  spe- 
cies are  contmually  attempted. 
Why  that  which  is  arduous  should 
fce  rentured  on  in  commofi,  or  this 
track  of  literature  be  travelled  by 
crowds,  it  is  difficitlt  perhaps  satis-' 
&ctorily  to  settle.  Were  authors 
restricted  by  the  pentiry  of  their 
calling  to  a  fewness  of  tliemes, 
some  cause  would  appear  Ibrthcfr 
abounding  in  fable  :  hot  topicks 
tn  letters  bekig  numerous  and  free, 
it  is  hard  to^accotmt  for  their  £Bincy 
for  one.  Every  description  of 
Itteratit  and  of  no  description  too, 
counsellors  and  clergy,  statesmen 
and  ladiesi  book-idlers  afid  beatx^ 
aome  without  brains  and  some 
with,  as  if  smit  by  enchantment, 
couch  the  qtrill  for  ronlance^ 
Bteedihg  nuns  atid  bloodless 
corses,  vacant  €astles  aUd  peopled 
caverns,  blue  flames  and  White, 
red  flames  and  green,  damsels 
and  knights,  duennas  and  squires, 
friars  and  devils,  with  death's-heads 
and  cross4K>nes  to  boot,  dance  the 
hay  through  their  works,  as  though 
desciiption  were  crazed. 


tiK  «Mn 


Ttie  tflnes  liiite  becfl, 
ftn   oiic»  tli€  IB 


lai  llwrca&cod ;.  tat  now,  ihtj  tile  mtjOO, 
Vkh  tventy  nortsU  Binrdef%  on.tbelr  ttowwug 
iad  pofb  M  Cirom  our  itMb.  SfUK£9« 

Among  the  multitude  that  af* 
imx  \JbM  department  of  wrsting^ 


though  less  ghostly  thaA  his  com^ 
panions,  Mr.  Godwin  is  cc^spic-^ 
ttous.  From  the  refined  reveries 
of  Political  Justice  he  turned  hit 
attention  to  the  manufacture  of 
stories.  How  well  he  succeeded 
in  thts  ^shionabla  eftiplOymetit 
Cakb  WilUams  and  St.  Leon 
honourably  show.  The  first  is  • 
treasure  aitaOngat  !*6bbi8h  of  its 
order,  and  the  second^  notwith-^ 
standing  the  declaration  of  Horace, 

^odCttn4u«  Mtefidli  wM  tie,  kiGr«4alot  otfl* 

con^ues  to  be  a  &voiirtte  a&ioof 
the  majoitty  of  readers^  But  uni^ 
form  excellence  is  attakiable  \ff 
no%e  ;  and,  m  the  pcribimalMo  fae^ 
fore  us,  Mr.  Godwki  has  felled* 
Whether,  the  pkn  of  this  novel 
is  unfavourable  to  thcgcnkis  of  its 
writer,  or  his  former  prodactbn* 
have  exhatisted  hit  vein,  or  wiiat 
has  contributed  to  his  present  mis^ 
Carriage,  it  is  liot  ezpresaiy  our 
business  to  say.  But,  were  w« 
caUed  to  accorunt  for  the  feihiret  wo 
have  defected,  We  should  conceive 
that  Mr.  G.  had  mistaken  hb 
province  ;  that  the  gallantries  of 
Paris,  and  the  exploits  of  coUtgkiis^ 
were  Unsuitable  materiak  for  the 
aOthor  of  Falkland,  and  the  tre-^ 
mendoos  Bethiem  OabOf . '  The^ 
ai»e  depositions  that  seelh  destine 
ed  for  the  herotck  alone,  that  at*' 
tain  to  objects  elevated  wkh  dig^ 
nity  and  easey  but  ^  discover  ae 
gracefolnetB  in  stoopfeg  to  kffkks* 
On  the  mountains  of  Swh2ei1and^ 
in  the  cotnAiunity  «fn>bbers,  with 
every  thing  chivsdrous,  Mr.  Cod'' 
wm  appears  eonsemtiatiely  at 
home  :  Bttt,  in  deiwencBiig^o  pet' 
xf  ehonrcterseaid-  pas4kms,lh  the' 
management  of  a  teteni^tete^  or  the 
manoeuvre  of  a  love-matter,  ht  apt* 
ly  retninds'on^  of  Hferctrtcs  at  the^ 
distaff.  It  might  be  obstiryfcd  <rf 
him,  as  of  aome  fimncr  geniny 
that  he  isouid'aettlptiire  haroee'iA 


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NQTICX  Ot    t^TT*%  SLSKEKTS. 


marble,  but  wanted  art  to  carve  a 
head  on  a  nut-^sheli. 

The  leading  defects  in  the  New 
Man  of  Feeling  are,  violent  nieta«» 
phors,  long-winded  reflections,  and 
declamatory  sentiment.  .Fleet** 
wood  seems  possessed  of  all  the 
foibles  of  our  author,  with  very  few 
of  his  excellences*  On  those  oc-* 
casions,  where  he  used  to  be  in- 
structive or  entertaining,  he  ap-* 
pcfars  here  to  be  irrelative  or  tedi* 
ous  ;  where  he  was  formerly  eleva- 
ted or  moving,  he  seems  how  to 
be  fulsome  or  puerile.  He  b  fre^ 
quently  so  inflated  with  the  efifer-^ 
vescence  too  of  his  hncy,  that  he 
resembles  new  beer  in  the  labours 
of  refinement*  He  is  continually 
sighing  at  the  v^t  with  a  sad 
string  of  ah8...»ahs»...ahs  !  !  !  or 
poppmg  ofl*  in  foam  with..«.good 
God  !...just  heavens  !...and,  poor 
Mary !  You  must  first  be  contented 
to  remove  the  froth  from  his  sur-* 
face,  before  you  taste  of  his  spirit, 
or  you  may  be  frosted  to  the  eyes 
in  the  exuberance  of  his  head*  To 
afford  our  readers  an  example  of 
the  true  sublime  and  pathedck,  we' 
quote  the  following  soliloquy  of 
the  Aw  Man  of  Feeling  : 

Shall  t  go  to  nly  wi(^,  and  confront 
her  with  this  new  evidence  of  her  guilt  } 
l^o,  I  will  never  speak  with  her,  never 
•^e  her  more.  It  is  k  condescension  un- 
worthy of  an  injured  hOsband  ever  to 
admit  his  prostitiited  consort  into  hi« 
presence!  k  is  as  if  God  should  go  down 
and  visit  Satan  in  his  polluted,  sulphu- 
rous abodes !  How  from  my  inmost  soul 
I  abhor  her  !   HoW  I  will  hold  her  up  to 

the  abhorrence  of  the  woHd  ! How 

I  should  Kke  Co  see  her  torn  with  red-hot 
pincers  1  ■  'To  vrhat  a  height  I  have 
lovedf  hsr !   No,  no,  no,  no,  no'-v^ever  ! 

IS  this,  gentle  readers,  be  not 
rbetorick  run  mad,  then  have  we 
no.  skill  in  criticism.  Another  ob^ 
jection  to  Fleetwood  is  the  fashion 
ot  its  episodes.     They  seem  to 


break  out  unnaturally  from  thd 
body  of  the  work,  and  wear  the  ap* 
pea  ranee  of  excrescences,  rather 
than  branches.  We  are  told  a 
kind  of  cock-and'buU  story  about 
a  Whimsical  Utile  bOy,  who  trav- 
elled, nobody  knows  how  fio*,  and, 
in  fact,  nobody  cares,  to  introduce 
himself,  forsooth,  to  Louis  the 
fourteenth.  Now  this,  certainly, 
is  a  very  singular  afi*air,  and  for 
that  reason,  unquestionably,  very 
pretty.  But  Mr.  Godwin  should 
remembet-,  that  he  is  not  compos- 
ing for  the  entertainment  of  nurs- 
eries* Our  author  too,  ever  will-* 
ing  to  take  up  any  threads  but 
those  of  his  story,  diverted  him- 
self so  loiig  in  the  mill  at  LyonSf 
that  we  began  to  suspect  him  to 
be  occupied  by  the  spinning  out  of 
other  matter  than  silk.  For  a  doz- 
en pages,  or  more^  we  heard  noth- 
ing but  the  rattling  of  9Vf{ft9^  chil- 
dren scampering  for  broken  twisty 
and  the  trampling  of  a  mill'horset 
who  gave  spring  to  this  hubbub* 
On  the  whole ;  there  b  very  little 
in  these  volumes  that  reminds  one 
of  Mr.  Godwin,  Excepting  his  Wsit 
to  Rufiigny  and  ids  name  on  the 
title. 


EUmenia  of  General  Jtnovftedge^in^ 
troductory  to  uaefid  books  in  the 
firincifxU  brandies  ^  Uierature 
and  scienter  designed  t/d^y  Jbf 
the  junior  students  in  the  urn" 
veraitieSy  and  the  higher  classes 
in  schools.  By  Henry  Ketty  B.  D, 
fellow  and  tutor  of  Trinity  Col" 
lege^  Oiford.  Philadelphia,MaX'« 
.  well,  for  F.  Nighols,  iPhiiadcl- 
phia,  and  J.  A.  Cummingsi  Bos- 
ton. 1803.  2  vok.  lano.  jM^ 
d50  each. 

This  is  among  the  few  bookl 
which  merits  the  currency  whith 
it  has  found.    Mr.  KeU  indeed  i* 


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MOIITHLT    CATALOG 0S. 


161 


not  a  man  of  superlative  talents,  but 
k  does  not  require  very  transcend^ 
ant  powers  to  accomplish  all  that 
he  proposes.  His  design  is  to  give 
a  survev  of  the  general  objects  of 
knowledge,  which  he  reduces  un- 
der the  following  classes  :  Relig- 
ion, language,  history,  philosophy, 
poiite  literature  and  the  fine  arts, 
Mid  the  sources  of  national  pros- 
perity. We  were  at  first  apjjre- 
hcDsive  that  we  were  sitting  down 
to  the  examination  of  another  at- 
tempt "  to  show  a  royal  path  to 
geometr}'  ;**  and  we  give  Mr.  Kett 
his  highest  praise,  when  wc  say 
Wir  suspicions  were  unjust.  '  He 
has  not  debaned  the  dignity  of  lit- 
erature, by  making  superficial 
knowledge  of  it  more  easy  ;  he 
only  gives  his  youthfiil  reader  a 
tiev  of  the  objects  and  present 
state  of  science,  and  admits  him 
to  see  at  a  distance  its  ^<  goodly 
prospects,"  and  hear  its  «  melo- 
dious sounds,"  without  conceal- 
ing or  diminishing  the  diHiculties, 


which  must  be  overpassed  before 
he  can  completely  enjoy  them.  - 
The  American  edition  is  re- 
markably neat,  and  we  examined 
it  with  unmingled  pleasure,  till  we 
met  the  following  passage,  which 
is  inserted  in  a  note  on  the  chapter 
on  the  Greek  language. 

The  English  fcadcf  mnrt  make  a  due  allo^rancd 
for  Ujc  cxAgccrated  praiic  of  a  credulou*  claoiH 
cal  pedant,  who  wem*  to  believe  all  the  idle  «to- 
riea  which  the  Grecian  writcn  relate  of  their 
countrymen.  If  the  celebrated  Romance*  of  Mrs. 
Raddiffe  had  been  written  by  a  Republican  u# 
Athena,  they  would  probablf  have  held  the  firac 
rank  in  ancient  literature. 

Thatcublinne  moralist,  and  profound  scholar^ 
Mr.  Godwin,  la  equally  liberal  or  hia  praise  of  the 
language,  literature,  and  tlrtuc*  of  the  Roman*. 
8ce  Godwfai's  inquirer.  £ditor. 

We  want  words  to  express  our 
indignation  at  the  unexanipled  im- 
pertinence of  this  intrusion  on  Mr. 
Kett.  Its  a^urdity  and  imbecil- 
ity does  not  at  all  apologize  for  its 
insolence  ;  and  if  the  works  which 
are  reprinted  in  this  country  are  to 
be  thus  polluted,  our  hopes  from 
the  growing  utility  of  our  press 
must  be  at  oacc  relinquished. 


MOJSTTBLY    CATALOGUE 
Of  Xfiw  Publications  in  the  U-  States,  for  March,  1806. 

tem  bona,  cant  ^fm^vn  mediocrli,  font  nuda  phira.<i*MAftT. 

^Cy  We  cannot  too  often  refieat  Molicitations  to  authors^  printerg^  and 
bookieilersy  in  the  different  parts  of  the  United  States^  to  send  us  Ay 
the  earliest  opportunities  (post  paid)  notices  qf  all  books  %vhich  they 
have  lately  published^  or  which  they  intend  to  publish^  The  list  of 
Jfruf  Publications^  ^c.  contained  in  the  Anthology  is  the  only  list 
Vfithin  our  knowledge  published  in  the  United  UtaleSy  and  consequently 
the  only  one  that  can  be  useful  to  the  pubtick  for  purposes  of  general 
reference.  If  authors  and  publishers  mil  consent  to  communicate^  not 
only  notices^  but  a  copy  of  all  their  publications^  such  use  might  be 
made  <f  them  as  would  promote^  nvliat  all  umte  in  ardently  wishing^ 

'  the  general  interest  qf  Atnerican  literature^  and  the  more  extensive 
circulation  of  books. 


mw  WORKS. 

HirroRT  of  the  Rife,  PirogreA,  and 
Termination  of  the  American  Revolu- 
tion; interfperfed  with  bioflrraphical, 
political,  and  mond  ObfervauosM.     lo 

Vol.  111.  No.  3.     W 


three  volnmet.  By  Mrs.  Mercy  War- 
ren,  of  Plymouth,  (NfaC)  Vols.  I.  and 
n.  8vo.  I  ft  vol.  pp.  44b,  Sd  Tol.  412. 
Boflon  :  Printed  by  Manning  &  Xx)nng9 
for  £.  Larkin.     1805. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


162 


JIOXTHLT     eATA£OQUJi. 


.  The  firfV  Sopplcmcnt  to  the  Philadel- 
phia Medical  aud  Phyfical  Journal,  col- 
feifted  and  arranged  by  B.  Sniiih  Barton, 
Prufelfor  of  M.ttcria  Medica,  Natural 
H:ftjry,  and  Botany,  in  tiie  Univcrfity  of 
Penulvlvania  8vo.  Philaddphia  1806. 
A  Sv^^Ti  of  Geometry  and  Trip^onom- 
etry  ;  together  with  a  treaiife  on  bur- 
Tcyii):  ;  teaching  variou*  ways  of  tak- 
h\};  chc  furvey  of  a  licld,  alio  to  protract 
the  fame»  and  lind  the  area.  Ukewife 
revitan.^uiar  farrcying  ;  or  an  accurate 
picthoii  of  calcuU'iiuj^  the  area  of  any 
field  ariihmerically,wuh(nit  theneceOtty 
of  plotting  it.  To  the  wKoIe  arc  added 
fcveral  mathematical  labletj,  nccellary 
for  folving  qncftlons  in  trt;^r,>non>etry  and 
furveving  ;  with  a  pariicular  «xplana- 
tion  (if  thole  tables,  and  the  manner  of 
%ii\n^  them.  Compiled  from  various  au- 
thors, by  Alrcl  Flint,  A.  M.  Hartford. 
JJncoln  &  Gleafoii. 

No  85  of  A  new  atid  complete  Ency- 
clop<Tdia,  or  univetfal  diaionary  of  arts 
and  fciences.     4to.     New  York. 

The  An^erican  Gardener's  Caknder  ; 
adapted  to  the  cliniatei  and  feafon-  of 
the  United  States,  containing  a  complete 
account  of  all  the  work  nccelTary  to  be 
done  in  the  kitchen  garden,  fruit  garden, 
orchard,  vineyard,  nnrfery,  pleafure- 
ground,  flower  garden,  greeii-houle,  hot- 
honfe,  and  forcing  frames,  for  every 
month  in  the  year.  To  which  are  annexed, 
extenfive  caralog^ne»of  thediflEcrent  kinds 
of  plants,  which  may  be  cultivated  eiTher 
lor  ufe  or  ornament  in  the  feveral  de- 
partments, or  in  rural  economv  ;  divided 
into  eighteen  alphabetical  clalie*,  arcord- 
rng  to  their  habits,  duration,  and  modes 
cif  culture  ;  with  explanatory  introduc- 
tions, marginal  marks,  and  their  true 
I.innxan  or  botanical,  as  well  an  EngHfli 
pames  ;  together  with  a  copious  index  to 
the  Iwdy  of  tbc  work.  By  Bernard 
M  Malion,  nurfery,  rc»dfman,andflorift, 
Philadelphia.  Price,  full  bound,  3,50; 
Philadelphia.     1^06. 

A  Compendious  Dictionary  of  the  Eng- 
lifli  langua;?e,  in  which  five  thoufand 
.  words  are  added  to  the  number  found  in 
the  heft  Englifli  compends  ;  the  ortho- 
graphy is  in  fome  inft^nccs  corrected, 
the  pronimciation  marked  by  an  accent, 
or  other  fuitable  direction  ;  and  the  defi- 
nitions of  many  words  amended  and  im- 
proved. To  which  are  added,  for  the 
benefit  of  the  merciiant,  the  (ludfiDt  and 

ihe  traveller, 

I.  Tahles  of  the  moneys  ef  moft  of  the  comwer- 
cial  nations  in  the  worhl,  with  the  value  cxprdflcd 
la  fterUng  and  cent*,    il.  TablMof  wdghttaod 


mc.iAues  *nclcnt  and  vnoA'sn,  wUfc  tb<  pro^oc* 

tlon  bctv  en  iho  Jcvti-tl  Wcluhts  ufcd  in  the  prin- 
c*4i  cities  of  Kuropc.     lit.    I  be  divttioiis  oi  time 

AH  .»«!■'  tlv  Jt\Nb,  Creeks,  and  Ronui'.*,  y^itli  A 
r;ih;f'cxlii'.Mii  ;Mbf  Roii.au  manner  of  fating. 
IV  An  u»;ui»l  Im  ot  the  put-oflfico  in  ths.  U:-iir4 
S'^N-b.  wMJi  uic-  It.ttc^  ani:  covnf'.crs  in  vh.c  'l.cj 
af  rcn-<i«ivcU  fitua'ci',  ar  d  the  dUt.ircc:  of  c*ch 
ftu;i.  the  hat'of  ;'cvf  nin  .:  I  V  The  )  i;n  bcr 
of  in;  ahitants  ii^  ihe  U.  htat©<.  v.ilh  the  .  n.oi.nt 
ol  rxp'Tls.  VI  Nt^v  anti  i:  tcrtliuiec  .  ■  v  :>-^|- 
C.il  '..x'.'.cn  (i  rcmarL.jhIc  r\\n'.$  nd  UiicOv  e.  ic». 

By  Noah  Webfter,  Ffq.  From  Sidrfer 
Prefs  for  Hudfon  &  Goodwin,  Hartford, 
aiid  Increafe  Cooke  A.  Co.  New-Haven. 
1  'Jmo.  pp.  408.      1 1^06. 

A  C(5l lection  of  the  F.lTays  on  the  Sub- 
jca  of  Epilcopacy,  which  originally  ap- 
l^cared  in  the  'Albany  Ceminel,  and 
wUich  are  afcribed  principally  to  Rev. 
Dr  Lin^,  Rev.  Mr.  Breafley,  a.  d  Tbok 
Y,  How,  Efq.  With  additional  note* 
and  ftmarks.  New  York.  T.  St,  J. 
Swords.      1  dol.     \h06. 

.\  Paftoral  Letter  from  the  Right  Rev. 
Thomas  John  Cbgget,  D.  D.  bifliop  of 
the  Proteftant  Epifcopal  Church  io  Ma- 
ryland, to  the  clergy  and  congregation  of 
the  faid  church.  *  New  York.  T.  &  *. 
Swords.     1 806, 

An  abridgment  of  Henry  on  Pnyer, 
confifting  of  a  judicious  coHedlion  of 
feripiures,  proper  to  the  fcveral  paru  of 
the  duty,  with  an  effay  on  the  nature 
and  duty  of  prayer  ;  to  which  are^  an* 
nexed  fome  forms  of  prayer.  Ey  a  com- 
mittee of  the  North  Confociation  of 
Hartford  County.  Hartford,  Lincoln  & 
Glcafon.     50  cents. 

Familiar  Letters,  to  the  Rev.  Johtji 
Sherman,  once  p*ftor  of  the  church  m 
Mansfield,  in  particular  reference  to  hi* 
lat«  antt-f rinirarian  Treatife.  Ey  Danict 
Dow,  paftor  of  a  church  in  ThompfoD, 
Connedlicut.  Hartford.  Lincoln  and 
Glealon.     1806.     *i5  cents. 

llluftraiions  and  Refleckions  on  the 
ftory  of  Saul's  coufulting  the  witch  of 
Endor.  A  difcourfe,  delivered  at  Weffc- 
Springfield.  By  Jofeph  Lathrop,  D  D. 
paftor  of  the  brft  church  in  faid  town. 
8vo.  pp.  20.  Sp/iagfield,  (Matt)  (L 
Brewer.  180«. 

A  new-year's  fermon,  preached  at 
Lee,  January  1,  1804.  By  Rev.  Alvan 
Hyde,  paftor  of  the  church  in  Lee. 

A  difcourfe  .before  the  Society  for 
propagating  the  Gofpel  among  the  In- 
dians and  others  ia  North  America,  de- 
livered Nov.  7^  180J.  By  Jofeph  Eck- 
1^,  D.  D.  Minifter  of  the  Old  South 
Church  in  Bofton.    £.  Lincoln. 

A  fermon,  delivered  at  Lenojt,  (Mafi!> 
Eebruary  20th,  1806,  being  41m  day  oji^ 
tbc  eiecuuoa  ^f  £pHnW  ^^^^^^^t  V^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


motttttr  eATirootnr. 


•t«s 


•rd,  A.M.  paftor  of  the  church  irt  Leitok. 
Price  12^  cents.     Stockbrul^e.    Heimaa 

'  A  difcotiHe,  delivered  at  HiiUbofougJi, 
Neivhampfhire,  by  Rev.  Stephen  Cha- 
pio  ;  being  his  iirA  after  ordiuarion.  8vo. 
Amherd.     ioleph  Culbing. 

A  dtfconrfe  dehvered  at  firooklinc, 
S4ch  Nov.  1805,  tie  day  which  complet- 
ed a  century  from  the  incorporation  of 
the  town.  By  John  Pierce,  A.  M.  the 
fifth  mioifter  of  Brooklise.  Cambridge. 
W.  Hilliard. 

Fofcari  ;  or  the  Venetian  exile,  a  tra- 
gedy, in  five  adi  By  John  B.  White, 
E{q.  8yo.  Price  50  cents.  Charleftoo, 
<S.  C.)     ^806. 

The  Pifcataqua  Evangelical  Magazine, 
No.  I  of  tlie  2d  Vol.  »vo.  pp.  46.  12 
ceott.     Aroherft.     J.  Cafliing. 

New  Colle^ion  of  Spiritual  Songs, 
ttio(Hy  original.  By  Rev.  Coleman  Pen- 
dleton.    Raleigh,  (N.  C.)    J.  Gales. 

The  complete  Valentine  Writer,  for 
both  fezes.  Baltimore.  Fryer  and 
Clark.     1806. 

Th«  Laws  paired  at  the  lad  feflion  of 
the  general  afiembly  of  Virginia.  Rich- 
aMtnd.  Samuel  Plealants,  jun.  1806.* 
**Who  (hall  be  govcrnour,  Strong  or 
Sullivan  f  or,  the  iham-patriot  onmaik- 
•d  ;  being  an  eipofition  of  the  farallv 
lucceftful  arts  of  demagogues  to  exalt 
f  hemfelves,  by  flattering  and  fwindling 
the  people  ;  in  a  variety  of  pertinent 
fiacts,  drawn  from  facred  and  profane 
hi(b>ry.     8vo.  pp.  50.     Boftpn.     1806. 

The  Bofton  lelf-ftylcd  Gentlemen  Re- 
viewers  reviewed,  By  the  author  of  the 
Science  of  San^iity  ;  and  that  truly  ori- 

final  produ<5lion  analytically  delineated. 
y  a    Berean.      Svo.      BritileborougH, 
(Ver.)     William  FefTend^. 

An  Exhibition  of  FaifVs,  fupportcd  by 
documents,  for  the  information  of  the 
militia  officers  of  the  flate  of  Maflachu*- 
lettf  ;  containing  a  ftatement  of  the  cau- 
fes  which  led  to  the  arreft  of  Captain 
Jofeph  Loring,  jun.  8vo.  pp.  96.  37^ 
cents.     Boflon,  David  Carliile. 

NIW    KD1T20N9. 

Sermons  of  John  Baptid  MalBllon 
and  -Lewis  Bourdaloue,  two  celebrated 
French  preachers.  AIfo,a  fpiritual  par- 
aphrafe  of  fome  of  the  pfalms,  in  the 
form  of  devout  meditations  and  prayers, 
by  J.  B.  Muflillon.  Tranflated  by  Rev. 
Abel  Flint,  paftor  of  the  churcb  in  Hart- 
ford, l^mo.  i^p.SlO.  1  dol.  Hartford, 
lincolA  &  deaTon. 


The  Iaj  t*f  the-Ltft  Mtnfh^,  ftpoeA, 
by  Walter  Scott,  with  noie>,  &c.  1  vol. 
-IVmo.  extra  boardi,  pp. '2^0.  fine  hot- 
preH'cd  paper.  I  dol.  New  York,  llaac 
Riley  ik  Co.     1806. 

1  he  Free-Mafbn's  Monitor,  or  illuf- 
trations  of  malonrv,  in  two  parts.  By^ 
1  homas  Smith  Webo,  pail  mafler  of  Tem- 
ple Lodge,  Albany,  &c.  \*2mo.  Boiloa, 
printed  for  H.  Culliing,  Providence,  &c. 

War  in  Difgrnie,  or  the  frauds  of  ihe 
neutral  fla^^.  bvo.  Charleftoii,  (S.  C) 
-E.  Morford.      1806. 

An  Anfwer  to  War  In  Difgiiife,  by  ah 
American  fhtelman.  8vo.  Charlcftoa. 
Morford.     1 806. 

War  in  Dilg^ife,  &c.  2d  edition,  fa 
1 3mo.  boards,  pp.  2'iH.  fine  paper.  75 
cents.     New  York.     Riley  &  Co.     1806. 

Tlie  Infirmities  and  Comforts  of  Old 
Age.  A  re»mon  to  aged  people.  By 
Joleph  Lathrop,  D.  D.  paftor  of  the  Brit 
church  in  Wtft-Springlicld.  Sd  edition. 
Springfield,  (Maff.)     H.  Brewer. 

The  Seraphical  Young  ii  hep  herd,  being 
a  Very  remarkable  accotint  of  a  ydung 
Shepherd  in  France,  who  attained  to  an 
uncommon  and  evangelical  knowledge  of 
the  true  God  andlefui  Chrift ;  tranllat«d 
from  the  French,  with  notes  by  CCaley, 
jun.     18mo.    dU  cents.    Boflon,  J.  WeA. 


TN    THE    PtCSS. 

Letters  to  a  Young  Lady  on  a  Covrfe 
of  Englifh  Poetry.  By  John  A i kin,  M. 
D.  1  'Jmo.  fine  woven  paper.  Boftoh. 
Munroe  and  Francis. 

The  firft  numl^er  of  Madoc,  a  poem, 
by  Robert  Southey.  Fine  woven  pa- 
per, large  8vo.  Bofton.  .  Muuroe  & 
Francis. 

OfDan's  Poems.  2  vols,  with  plates. 
New  York. 

Letters  to  Rev.  Mr.  Auflin  on  Infant 
Baptifm.  By  Daniel  Merrill,  A.  M.  paf- 
tor of  the  church  of  Chrift  in  SedgwicTc 
l^mo.     Bofton.     Manning  &  Loring. 

The  Cxih  and  laft  volume  of  c/r- 
tVn^s  Fxpofition  of  the  Old  Teftament. 
Charleftown.     S.  Etheridge. 

The  fecond  edition  of  the  Tirft  Num- 
ber of  the  Chriftian  Monitor,  a  relig- 
ious periodical  publication,  by  **a  focicty 
for  promoting  chriftian  knowledge,  pi- 
ety, and  charity.**  12mo.  pp.  192. — 
Bofton,  Munroe  &  Francis. 

Apology  for  Infant  Baptifm  and  the 
ofual  •  modes  of  baptizing.  By  John 
Reed,I).  D.  paftor  of  a  church  and  con- 
gregatioi^  in  Bridgewater.  In  which 
Work  the  objedlions  and  reafoniogs  of 
Rev,  Daniel  Merrill,  ind  the  princiifal 

Digitized 'by  ^OOQ IC  "" 


164 


KOHTHLT   eATALOOUS. 


Baptift  writers  «re  c6ofidtred  and  an-* 
iwered.     1 2mo.  pp.  270.     Bofton. 

The  New  HampHiire  Latin  Grammar  • 
corapreheoding  all  the  necelTary  rules  in 
orthography,  fyntax,  and  profody ;  with 
explanatory  and  critical  notes.  By  John 
fimith,'A^»  profeflbr  of  the  learned  Ian* 
guaget  at  Dartmouth  College.  Second 
edition,  with  large  additions.  12mo. 
Bofton.     John  Weft. 

Paley's  Moral  Philosophy.  8vo.  J. 
*WeQ,Bo(lon. 

The  fulfilling  of  the  Scriptures  de* 
lineated.  By  Rev.  Robert  Fleming. 
Charleftown.     S.  Etheridge. 

The  Spirit  of  the  Publick  Journals,  or 
the  beauties  of  the  American  newfpa- 
pers.  The  firft  No.  to  appear  in  April. 
Baltimore.     S.  Bourne. 

The  third  volume  of  Scott's  Com- 
meotary.  Philadelphia.  W.  W.  Wood- 
ward! 


yaoposiD  TO  bk   ruBLtssio    bj    s(7B« 

SCtlPTION. 

A  cheap  edition,  highly  improved  and 
much  enlarged,  of  the  original  work,  en- 
titled, Nature  Difplayed  in  her  Mode  of 
teaching  language  16  Man  ;  or  a  new 
and  infallible  method  of  acquiring  a  lan- 
guage in  the  /liorteft  time  poiEble,  de- 
duced from  the  analyfls  of  the  human 
mind,  and  confequently  fsited  to  every 
capacity.  Adapted  to  the  French. '  By 
K.  G.  Dufief,  of  Philadelphia.  9  voU. 
large  8vow    Fjne  paper.    Pricf  to  fub- 


feribers  5  dols.  in  boards.  PbtladdpMi. 
John  Watts.  Subfcriptions  received  lA 
Bo(h>n  by  J.  Gourgas. 

The  Family  Ezpofitor  abridged,  ac- 
cording to  the  plan  of  its  anthor,  tho 
Rev.  Philit>  Doddridge.  In  two  vols. 
8vo.  By  S.  Palmer.  To  this  edition 
will  be  prefixed  a  portrait  of  Dr.  Dod- 
dridge, and  an  account  of  his  life  and 
writings.     Hartford.  Lincoln  &  Gleafon. 

I'he  Dodlrine  of  the  Law  and  Grace 
unfolded.  By  John  Bunyan,  author  of 
the  Pilgriin*s  Progrefs.  To  the  above 
will  be  added,  Grace  abounding  to  the 
■  Chief  of  Sinners,  being  a  faithful  account 
of  the  lifie  aud  death  of  Mr.  John  Bun- 
yan. Inone  vol.  12mo.  pp.  SOa  Price 
to  fubfcribers  87-(  cents  bound.  Boftoa. 
Manning  &  Loring. 

An  entire  new  work,  entitled.  The 
Hiflory  of  Wyoming,  or  the  county  of 
Luzerne,  in  Pennfylvania,  from  the  firft 
fettlement  in  176S  to  1806.  By  Abra- 
ham Bradley,  £fq. 

Vidlor,  or  The  Independents  of  Bohe* 
mia,  a  grand  romantick  play,  as  perform- 
ed with  great  applaufe  at  Providence  ; 
and,  Rudolph,  or  The  Robbers  of  Cala- 
bria, a  grand  romantick  melo-dramai 
withchorulTes.atf  performed  laft  wyiter 
at  New  York  with  unbounded  applti  fe. 
Written  by  John  Turnbuli,  late  of  New 
York,  now  of  Charlefton  theatre.  Fine 
paper.  1  dol.  to  fubfcribers  ;  1,87  to 
nonfubfcrib^rs.  p^iarledop,  S.  C.  Wqi. 
Young. 


IJ\rTELLIG£.YCE. 


Mr.  Grahame,  author  of  The  Sabbath, 
^  pofUJi  has  jufl  finifhed  a  new  volume  of 
poems,  )9rhich  will  fpeedily  be  published. 

A  Second  Colleton  of  Letters  to  a 
Young  Clergyman,  bv  the  Rev.  Job  Or- 
ton,  is  nearly  ready  ior  publication. 

A  Life  of  Jlomney  the  painter,  from 
the  pen  of  Jiayley,  will  fliortly  appear, 
and  will  be  accompanied  with  ft  variety 
of  engravings. 

The  (ixth  voluine  of  the  General  Bio- 
graphical D!<5lionary,  by  pr.  Aikin,  Mr* 
Morgan,  Sec.  w^Ich  hafl  fnet  with  a 
temporary  djclay,  is  gone  to  the  prefs. 
It  is  condudied  by  the  fapie  writers  with 
thofe  of  the  preceding  volumes  ;  hut  the 
Spanifli  and  Portugupfe  literary  biogra- 
phy will  be  given  more  at  l»r^e  by  a 
gentleman  peculiarly  acquainted  with 
that  department. 

A  profpeAus  of  two  periodical  works 
has  been  iffued  at  New  York,  the  fif  A 


entitled,  The  Cotitinent  ef  Sttrofe,  er  the 
Parit  Correfpoadctit  ;  aud  the  fccond, 
IS Avurique  du  N^td^  ou  Le  Corrrfpondcnt 
dts  Miats  Unit,  In  the  firfl  part  of  the  pro- 
pofed  work  will  be  comprehended  a  brief 
analytical  account  of  ^f  the  produdions, 
in  every  branch  of  literature,  fciencc, 
and  the  ^rts,  which  may  appear  on  the 
continent  of  Europe,  exhibiting  fuccelT- 
iyely  to  view  the  progref*  and  ftate  of 
knowledge,  in  France,  Germany,  Ruflja, 
Sweden,  Denmark,  Holland,  Spahi, 
Switzerland,  and  liaIy.^To  each  num- 
ber will  be  fubjoiucd,  important  /late 
papers,  Paris  price-currents  of  merchan- 
dize, and  other  yfeful  commercial  intelli- 
gence.-— The  various  articles  will  be  ar- 
ranged under  the  general  heads  of  phy- 
fical  and  mathematical  fcicnces ; — ccop- 
cmy  and  ufeful  arts  ;— morals  and  poli- 
ticks ;,^hiftory  and  biography  ; — fine 
arts  ;— 'general  hiflory  of   literature.-r^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC' 


LTTERART   AND   PHXLOSOFMIOAL   IKTELLIGEXCB. 


i6$ 


.  BoA  SB  mecount  will  be  ^ven  of  every 
•rticle  as  wilt  render  it  ealily  underftood, 
and,  in  fuch  a  manner  as  to  briug  into  a 
fmalt  compaft  the  moft  valuable  ideas 
and  interefb'ng  fad^s,  in  every  depart- 
ment of  fcience  and  the  belles-lettres, 
and  to  make  known  to  the  people  of  the 
United  States  the  producStions  of  men  of 
geniu«  and  talents  in  Europe.  As 
a  fui table  htrm/wffioM  to  this  work, 
the  Editor  propoCes  to  give  a  CaUUogut 
rmfimne^  of  Greeks  Latin.,  Engtjfiiy  FrcHih^t 
Spaaijb^  and  Julian  6eUj,  felevSted  from 
the  beft  biblio^aphical  and  periodical 
works  that  have  appeared  in  France* 
and  which  will  prefent  a  brief  retrofpedl 
of  the  literature  and  i'cience  of  pafl 
years.  A  good  catalogue  of  books  io 
foreign  languages  is  much  wanted  by 
men  of  letters  in  America,  many  of 
whom  are  unable  to  make  a  proper  lelec- 
tion  from  a  want  of  a  fuitable  means  to 
guide  their  choice*  The  Editor  has 
fpared  no  pains  in  making  a  CQlle«flion, 
with  a  particular  view  to  the  United 
States  ;  and  he  indulges  the  hope,  that 
the  profeflbrs  of  unrverfities,  colleges, 
and  academies,  the  members  of  learned 
focietiet,  and  the  lovers  of  literature  and 
the  arts,  in  general,  will  find  in   the 

numbers  of  the  Continent  0/  Sitrofie^  or  tbf 
fans  Cnrreff^ndtnt^  much  ufeful  bibliogra^ 
phical  intelligience,  and  valuable  infor- 
mation in  all  the  various  branches  of  hu- 
man knowledge,  and  that  they  will  hon- 
our the  prefent  undertaking  with  their 
patronage  and  fupport.  The  fir(l 
work    will  be  printed  in  Englifli,  and 


ufcfbl  commercial  informatioo  will  bt 
added.  A^  this  work  will  be  publifhe4 
in  the  French  language,  by  H,  CarUat,  at 
Paris,  American  authors  and  publiihcra 
will  have  an  opportunity  of  having  their 
prodtidtions  made  known  throughout 
Europe  :  for  which  purpofe  it  will  bt 
neceilary  to  make  early  communications 
of  them  to  J/uM  RiUy  \^Co.zi  NewYork, 
by  whom  arrangements  will  be  mad* 
relative  to  both  works,  for  the  convc* 
nience  of  fubfcribers  in  every  part  of  th« 
United  States.  The  fecond  work  will  b« 
compril'cd  in  numbers  of  about  32  paget 
o<^vo,  and  publifhed  tnontbly  at  PaHt, 
at  25  cents  epch.  (^  Subfcriptions  re* 
ceived  at  the  Anthology  Office. 

The  long  expetSked  Tour  of  Colonel 
Thornton  through  various  parts  of 
France,  a  fplcndid  work,  which  has  been 
nearly  three  years  io  hand,  ib  now  nearly 
ready  for  publication.  It  will  be  com- 
prifed  in  two  volumes  imperial  quarto, 
illuflrated  by  about  ei^ty  beautiful  en* 
gravings  in  colours,  by  Mr.  Scott  and 
other  artiftb,  from  original  drawings,  de- 
fcriptive  of  the  country,  cuftoms,  and 
manners  of  the  people,  taken  by  the  in- 
genious Mr.  Bryant,  who  accompanied 
the  Colonel  ezprefsly  for  that  purpoie. 
This  tour  was  performed  during  the  ceP- 
fation  of  hoftilities,  toward  the  concio* 
fion  of  the  year  1 802,  and  the  route  be* 
ing  entirely  different  from  that  ufiially 
taken  by  Engliili  travellers,  no  fmall  de- 
cree of  information  and  intereft  is  expedl- 
pd  to  refult  from  the  perufal  of  the  work. 
To  ^hefporffman  in  particular  it  cannoc 
fail  to  prove  highlv  gratifying,  as  we 
have  no  account  whatever  of  the  (late 
pf  fporting  in  that  country.  Another 
edition  of  the  work  will  appear  at  the 
fame  time  in  royal  quarto,  with  the 
platen  uncoloured. 

Mrs.  Opie's  Simple  Tales  are  in  a  (bitf 
of  forwardnefk. 

Letters  to  a  Young  Lady,  from  the 
pen  of  Mrs.  Weft,  have  been  pubiiflied 
in  England. 

In  the  £le<5lora1  Library  at  Munich 
have  been  difcovered  the  Four  Gofpe!s,\ 
and  a  liturgy  of  the  eleventh  century, 
in  fmall  folio,  on  iine  white  parchment, 
wfitten  ip  a  beautiful  difbnift  charader, 
and  in  the  highed  (late  of  prefervation. 
They  are  very  fplendidly  bound,  and 
ornamented  nvith  precious  ftones  and 
pearls :  the  clafps  are  of  gold,  and  they 
are  lettered  on  the  back  with  ivory. 

A  Secret  Hi  (lory  of  the  Court  of  St. 
Clovidi  in  a  S^^  of  Letters  from  a  Gca^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


m 


hVtttiKM  AK*   fiiit6%oPHicAL  x*nrfctti<i*»c«. 


tfbnftfl  an  iPirll  to  k  Kobl^tnto  in  Lotf- 
4oD,  will  a|ipear  immediately. 

The  univcrfal  and  heartfelt  tribute  of 
^pt6t  which  has  been  paid  to  the  me- 
iDory  of  the  late  lamented  Lord  Nelfun, 
hu  communicated  it«  influence  to  the 
iMiinters  and  poets  ;  and  many,  very  ma- 
«y,  have,  ever  lince  we  had  the  advice 
•f  hif  death,  been  exerting  all  their 
^wer»  to  perpetuate  hi»  praife  and  im- 
fltOrialiie  hU  fame.  They  began  with 
toiixing  marks  of  their  regret  with  the 
Illuminations  for  his  brilliant  vidlory,  in 
^hich  the  blazing  windows  bore  teftr* 
monj  to  the  feelings  of  the  inhabitants, 
**  in  wordi  that  blaze,  and  thoughu  thai  burn." 

It  muft  be  acknowledged,  however, 
tbat  fome  of  the  infcription^  were  more 
^milar  to  readings  in  Wc(tmio(ler-Ab- 
bey,  than  to  the  tranfpareocies  of  a  re- 
joicing-night. 

Jean,  the  artift,  of  Newman  ftrect,  cx- 
liibited  a  traiifparency  of  Britannia,  with 
the  ufual  iniignia  of  Fame,  the  vicfloriet 
of  the  gallant  Admiral,  and  on  the  weil 
fide  an  ura,  witli  the  followiug  infcrip- 
tion  : 

•»  FrttannU,  vldor,  ever  muft  deplore 
Her  darling;  Hero,  Nelson,  now  no  more  !»• 

The  infcrtption  at  the  houfe  of  Mr. 
Abraham  Goldlmid  was  peculiarly  ap- 
propriate and  intelligent.  Between  two 
cordons  of  lamps,  iu  tranfparent  letter*, 

<*  1  rcjokc  for  my  couBtry,  but  mourn  for  my 
fricod.** 

But  fetting  afide  thefe  little  effiifions 
pf  the  hour,  we  6nd  that  feveril  great 
'Works  are  in  hand  on  the  occafion. 

Meifrs.  Boydells  intend  having  a  very 
cmpital  pi^reengraved  in  the  firft  Oyle  in 
commemoration  of  the  event,  but  we  be- 
lieve have  not  yet  entirely  arranged  the 
plan,  though  it  will  be  laid  before  the 
|>ublick  in  a  few  days. 

Mr.  Wea  and  Mr.  Heath  have  llpr 
fKHineed  and  advertifed  their  plan. 
.    Mr.  Copley  has  dated  that  he  intemk 
painting  a  large  pi(5ture  on  the  fame  fub^ 

We  have,  befide  thefe,  mtny  advertife- 
jtents  fr^m  other  artifts  who  intend 
fvbKOiing  memorials  on  a  fmaller  fcale, 

"Mr.  Orme  has  advertifed  an  engrav- 
ing from  A  pi<Sture  to  be  painted  by  Mr. 
Craig  ;  and  Mr.  Ackermann,  we  have 
iMen  told,  will  almoU  immediately  pub- 
lifli  a  highly-fbliked  graphick  record  Of 
the  AdmiraPt  vidhnies,  &c.«  furmounted 
With  a  naval  trophy  m  booeur  of  his  me- 
«Mrtr|r. 


The  Honourable  Mrt.  Dtmeriiai  p^ 
fented  to  the  Corporation  of  the  City  fC 
London  a  marble  Buft  of  Lord  Ivt^uon, 
which  is  to  be  plact-u  on  an  elegant  n-.;ir- 
b!epedeftal,aiid  depoiitcd  in  tne  Coua* 
cil-Chamber  at  Guildtiall. 

la  kUut  a  month's  time  Meffrs.  Eoy- 
dtHls  will  pubiilh  a  portrait  ot  Lord  Na- 
fon,  which  ib  now  engraving  bv  LarlofB, 
from  a  pidurc  painietl  by  ?>tr  WiltiaH 
Becchey,  and  prelenltrd  to  the  Corj)orj|- 
tion  ot  tJie  Citv  ot  Loudon  by  the  lat« 
Alderman  Btiyoell. 

We  faw  this  pi<£lure  loon  after  it  wai 
finiflted,  aud  thought  it  oi.c  ot  ti.e  hi.«ft 
that  Sir  William beechey  ever  j.aiiuttt.-*- 
It  is  a  molt  fpirited  and  anmuitd  lot' 
trait, marked  with  m  W  and  appjtpnkie 
charader,  but  not  painted  to  bt  vit-tved 
upwards  ot  tCventy  teet  above  the  eye, 
and  at  that  height  we  were  very  niuch 
mortified  to  lee  it  exhibit td  lu  the 
Council-Chamber  at  GujIchiUl,  where  it 
is  placed  immediately  over  the  leat  of 
the  Lt)rd  Mayor.  But  jiitticc  to  the 
memory  of  our  famenied  Hero  dcnaids 
its  removal  to  a  iituation  nearer  the  e>e; 
for  here  the  whole  portrait  appt;»is  of 
one  tone  of  colour,  aitd  the  honourable 
fear  in  the  Admirarsforehcjid, which  was 
a  remarkable  mark,  is  entirely  lolt  'i  he 
portrait  of  I.ord  Rodney,  which  is  Co 
paiuicd  that  it  would  adniit  of  beiu^ 
placed  at  a  greater  height,  is  about 
twelve  feet  from  the  eye.  'i  he  lituatioo 
of  the  two  portraits  n<ight  be  changed, 
and  Lord  Neifon  put  iu  tlu;  place  now 
appropriated  to  Lord  Rodney,  and  ^kt 
^,Ju. — Lond.  Month,  KctrbJfeS. 

Advices  recently  received  from  Naples 
contain  further  detaib  relative  to  the  un- 
rolling of  the  manul'cripts  dilcovered  tt 
Herculaneum.  Lleven  perlon^  are  it 
prefent  employed  in  unrolling  and  copy* 
ing.  The  manufcripts  hitherto  inff>e^ 
ed  amount  to  about  MU,  eight  of  whicii 
have  already  been  interpreted  and  iranf- 
mitted  to  the  minifler  beratti,  that  they 
may  be  examined  by  the  Academy,  and 
ordered  to  be  printed.  Thefe  man6icript« 
are,  fix  of  Epicurus,  entitled,  ii  ^,  t^ 
0>co  ,  On  Nature.  Another  ib  by  Phi- 
lodemus  \  its  title  is,  xat^  rnt  Ofyn,  Ob 
Anger.  The  eighth  wants  both  tbte 
title  and  name  of  tbe  author.  It  treats 
of  nature  and  the  worihip  of  the  godi. 
The  next  four  are  almoft  entirely  ex- 
plained ;  bu^  they  have  not  yet  been 
tranfmitted,  becaufe'Mr.  Hayter  and  iWe 
Abb^  Foti,  of  the  order  of  St.*  Bafil,  joint- 
tjF  Art  to  Aipcriottiid  tbcir  ptibiicatiob* 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


LITKRART   AND    f BltOSOPSlCAL   INT^LllOtyCE. 


»6» 


Thf  Ahh4  Foli   has  firfl  to  collate  the 

coj».eH  with  the  ori^naU,  to  Tiipjily  what 
itaeceJAry^aad  to  traiin^ie.  Mr.Hayrer 
cMli-c-  after  him,  alrers  what  he  thinks 
jr.»per  in  the  fupplement*  and  tranOa- 
tian>,  and  delivers  the  copy  to  M.  Fo(i,to 
W  a^iii  tra  ifcribcd.  The  dday  occa- 
fiitacd  hy  \f  r.  Hiyrer  in  his  labours,  it 
the  mfai  yf\\y  ihefe  manufcripts  have 
mot  yet  '>«en  feat  e-ther  to  the  Academy 
or  the  Ml  isf!?r.  Their  title-*  are  as  fol- 
low :  one  on  log^ck,  entitled  On  the 
S^rens^h  of  Arguments  drawn  frofhAnal- 

/*  r»..  Treat ife  on  Vices  and  the  coii" 
ir-^ry  V'rtttcs —  I,"  '^'>'rl.  On  Death. 
Thefe  three  works  are  by  Philodemiis. 
The  author  of  the  fourth  is  Poliftratus  ; 


^xoyn   rtrx  e 


■OKwr;^-  a   h 


'ly^X^ 


r- .  —.»'•::.  X-* '*^^«  *'.«»,  On  unreafonable 
Cf>n*^mpi  ;  that  is,  of  ihofe  who  dcfpife 
tr-jc'l'r  *  what  others  commend  ^ — 'I'his 
nxAnufrript  is  the  leaft  damaged,  and  ma- 
ny naTa^es  of  it  arc  abfolutely  untouch- 
ed The  other  pafyyti  are  in  a  great  part 
by  Ph?f  'demu'^  ;  they  treat  of  rhctorick, 
of  pnerry,  and  of  morality.  The  publi- 
ca*"K>n  of  iSefe  manufcripts  cannot  take 
phre  with  all  the  expedition  that  could 
Dewtfhrxl,  a^  the  originals  are  to  be  en- 
friTcd  b.-fore  they  arc  prefenred  to  the 
p'jHijck.  This  procefs  requires  much 
tiric  and  money,  and  the  want  of  the  lat- 
ter Will  conGderably  retard  the  publica- 
tion. M.  Rofini.bifliop  of  Piizzuoli,^to 
wKo-Ti  the  puhlick  is  indebted  for  the 
fragment  of  Philodemus  on  Mufick,  it 
t*^*  perfon  appointed  by  the  Court  of 
N-r»le»  to  fuperintend  the  engraving  and 
the  pjb!ic?-f)on  of  thefe  manufcripts. 

A  diflirgui(hed  man  of  fcience  at 
N2p<e>  h^3  publiflied  an  account  of  a 
Tifit  he  paid  to  Pompeii  fince  the  late 
rj^Mrches  ordered  by  the  Queen  of 
Saples — The  principal  particulart  of 
kt4  ftarement  are  as  follow  : — **  In  a 
fcvch  l^egun  about  fcven  years  ago  was 
difcovered  the  capital  of  a  pilafler,  which 
Was  fufpevfled  to  be  the  lateral  front  of  a 


•^The  pafTagc  which  ferrts  for  «Qtrmc4 
it  twelve  palms  lopg,  and  ten  wide.  It 
leads  to  a  court,  the  walls  of  which  ar4| 
covered  withftaccoof  various  colour«.*r« 
The  capitals  and  cornices  arc  in  good 
prefervation ;  and  I  there  obferved  4 
rofe,  which  is  a  mailer*piec<  both  of  d*«. 
fign  and  execution.  All  the  apartments 
are  decorated  with  beautiful  painting*, 
on  a  red,  blue, and  yellow  ground.  You, 
there  fee  likewife  detaciied  columns,  with 
flowers,  candelabras,  an^  ornaments,  ia 
the  bc(l  Ayle.  To  the  left  are  t,wo  apart* 
ments,  which  were  probably  thofe  of 
the  maOer  aitd  miftrei's.  Ibe  pamter 
gave  a  free  Icope  to  his  imagination  ia 
all  the  pidlures,  which  I  beheld  with  in« 
expreffible  delight.  JNuthing'  can  h% 
VAOTC  pleafiug,  among  others,  tlian  .4, 
dance 'of  perfons  in  maiks  ;  and  noihin|p 
more  graceful  than  a  little  bird  pecking 
at  a  balket  of  figs.  In  the  centre  of  tba 
court  is  a  ciflern,  the  implwviMm  of  the. 
Romans.  On  a  marble  pcdeHal  i^  > 
young  Hercules  feated  gn  a  hind  of 
bronze.  I'heie  two  pieces,  one  of  whicli 
weighs  about  twenty  pounds,  and  the. 
other  forty,  are  of  the  moft  6ni{lie4 
workmanfliip.  The  water  fell  from  the 
mouth  of  the  hind  into  a  beautiful  couch 
of  Grecian  marble.  Behind  the  pedelUI 
wa)  a  table,  the  ydtow  feet  of  whicli 
reprcfeut  the  claws  of  an  eagle. — Thefe 
perfe<5^  works  have  likewife  beci| 
conveyed  to  the  Mufeum.  A  lateral 
corridor  on  the  right  lead^  to  a  fecon4 
court,  which  was  furr^nded  by  piazzaa, 
as  is  proved  by  the  o^igonal  columne 
covered  with  ftucco.  In  one  of  the  a«» 
partments  are  obferved  two  Bacchantee 
holding  tbyft, — Above  the  window,  to; 
the  right,  is  a  paii^ting  of  Europa,  of 
great  beautv  ;  (he  is  quite  naked,  and  ir 
feated  on  the  bull,  which  it  plunging 
into  the  fea.  Beneath  is  a  young  mam 
carrying  a  baCket  o(  fruits  :  he  is  raifing^ 
himlelf  on  tiptoe  ;  and  this  attitude  re« 
quired  of  the  artifl  a  fVrongly  marked 
ezpreiHon  of  the  mufcular  fyOan.  Qm 
the  oppofite  fide  a  beautiful  female  dan« 
eer  excites  admiration  :  (he  is  holding 
and  flrikin^  two  cymbals  ;  Ker  ▼eil'^ 
which  floats  behind  her,  protfucet  a  very 
fine  efFedt  On  proceeding  into  thead*- 
joining  hall,  the  firQ  thing  that  flruck 
roe  lyas  a  magnificent  pavement  of  x\m 
mofl  precioois  African  marbles.  The 
ceiling  reprefents  Venn <  between  Mare 
and  Cupid.  In  this  hall  were  Anind  l^ 
fmall  idol  of  bronze,  a  gold  vale  weifb« 
loe  tia-ee  ooocflii  a  gold  coin,  and  twelve 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


16S 


MEDICAL    BRPORT.— TOT*8. 


^hef»  of  eopper,  with  the  cffiory  of  Vef*. 
pafiaa.  In  the  hall  to  the  left  fragments 
of  piAures,  painted  on  wood,  half  car- 
bonized, were  diftlnguiniable  :  they  were 
Inclofed  in  a  kind  of  niche«  :  this  wai 
the  bed  chamber ;  eight  little  columns 
by  which  it  was  fupported  may  ftill  be 
feen  :  they  are  of  bron2e,  and  to  their 
iummits  ftill  adhere  fome  pieces  of  gild- 
ed wood,  which  probably  formed  a  can- 
opy. On  the  lateral  wall  were  painted 
two  pricfts  With4ong  beards,  and  cloth- 
td  in  robe*  of  blue  and  green  :  they 
have  been  removed  to  the  Mufeum. 
The  kitchen  contained  a  great  quantity 
of  utenfib,  moftly  of  iron  inlaid  with 
151  vcr  in  inconceivable  perfe<5t?on.— 
But  what  moft  ftruck  me  were  five  can- 
delabra* painted  in  frefco  on  a  ground 
of  an  e«remely  brilliant  yellow  :  I 
icarcely  knew  how  to  leave  the  room 
which  contained  this  mafter-piece  of 
tafte  and  elegance  :  they  are  fupported 
bv  fmall  figures,  whofe  attitude,  drefs, 
Mnd  drapery,  ire  fo  exquifitely  graceful, 
that  they  might  ferve  as  models  to  all 
the  belles  in  the  world.  In  this  houfe, 
as  in  mod  others  of  the  ancients,  you 
Und  no  window  opening  towards  the 
Areet.  I  was  ftruck  with  the  fragments 
of  a  chariot  which  is  ftill  remaining  in 
the  coach-houfe  :  you  may  perfedlly 
diftinguifti  the  wheels  and  the  brafs  or- 
fuments  of  the  chariot  itfelf. — Ciofe  to 
the  habitation  is  feen  a  door  that  con- 
dtt6b  to  another,  and  which,  to  judge  by 
its  exterior,  will  not  furni(h  fewer  beau- 
ties whenever  it  (hall  be  permitted  to  be 
opened.*' 

Mifs  Edgeworth  will  publifti  early  in 
January  a  new  work,  in  two  volumes, en- 
titled Leonorz.^'Lon,  Montb.  Mag, 

DEATHS  TnTbOSTON, 
^frwn  Friday  f  FeL  20,  /•  Tburfday^  March 
20,  a$    reported  f   the  Board  of  Health 
kj  tbi  Sextom, 


^ 

Male.  Fern. 

Ch. 

Accident 

1 

Cancer 

Childbed 

CoUc,  bilidus 

1 

Ooofufnptioa 

Propfy 

1 

Drowned 

1 

Fever,  biltout 

1 

8 

Fits 

Oldftge 

1 

Voknown 

4 

ts 

IS 

%\ 

13 

STATEMENT     OF    DISEASES,   ' 
From  Feb,  20/^  to  March  20/^. 

THE  weather  Of  the  paft  month  haf 
been,  for  the  moft  part,  cold  and  unplea- 
fant.  This  is  to  be  attributed  to  the 
prevalence  of  rough  north-eafttrly  winds, 
which  have  existed  through  the  montb, 
almoft  without  intermiflion. 

**  No    gently-breathing   breeze   prepares   the 
spring  ;•* 
but  nature   has    again  invefted   herfelf 
with  her  wintry  robe. 

To  the  north-eafterly  winds  may  be 
afcribed  innumerable  catarrhs,  fome  of 
which  have  been  fo  fevere  a-»  to  demand 
medical  aid.  Pneumonic  inflammation 
has  been  common,  but  not  fatal.  Belides 
thefe  inflammatory  difeafcs,  there  havt 
been  fome  cafes  of  cynanche  tonfillarii, 
and  we  are  informed  that  the  cynanche 
maligna  exifts.  Typhus  mitior,  which 
was  prevalent  in  the  autumn  and  did  not 
entirely  difappear  during  the  winter, 
feems  again  to  have  become  frequent. 

Some  time  fince,  we  remarked  **  that 
vaccination  was  fcarcely  heard  of.**  It. 
is  with  forrow  that  we  repeat  this  remark. 
— People  think  that  phyficians  arc  eager 
to  propagate  this  difeafe  for  their  own 
advantage.  This  is  a  very  miftaken  no- 
tion ;  for  the  faculty  rather  receive  injury, 
than  profei&onal  emolument,  from  the 
vaccinating  practice.  A  fpirit  of  phi- 
lanthropy has  excited  great  exertions  for 
the  diffufion  and  prefervation  of  this 
pradkice  ;  yet  the  time  may  cume,  when 
that  fpirit  will  be  extinguiftied  by  the 
prejudices  of  fome,  and  the  cold  indiffe* 
fence  of  others. 


Editors'*  Mtet, 

THE  continuation  of  the  review  of  the  Trans- 
aCcions  of  the  Academy  unlbrtunatoly  was  not 
prepared  in  season  for  the  present  nunribcr. 

We  should  be  proud  to  number  the  Authoft 
of  the  EsMy  on  Method  and  the  Character  of 
Dr.  Howard  among  the  regular  contributor*  to 
the  Anthology.  It  makes  us  nobis  carior  to  be 
allowed  to  unite  with  oun  the  productions  of 
minds,  stored  as  theirs  are  with  the  riches  of  ripen- 
ed thought,  and  ample  and  digested  knowledge. 

The  verses  of  L.  are  classical  and  ingenious. 

We  should  be  pleased  to  be  frequently  indebted 
to  the  writer  of  the  beautiful  lines  on  Shlpvirfcclt. 

We  do  not  precisely  understand  A.  B.'s  design. 
If  he  means  to  quarrel  with  the  Reviewer  of  the 
sermon  In  question,  he  Ukm  an  odd  method,  bf 
coinciding  with  htm  In  opinion  {...If  with  the 
Writer,  he  cannot  escpect  that  we  shosld  mske 
our  work  the  Uicatic  of  Ch«  ilspace* 


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fki 


MONTHLY   ANTHOLOGY. 


APRIL,   1806. 


J^On    THE  AJVTHOLOGT, 


avLl^litAL      LEfTERS      FROM      tVROtH^ 


M.  4i 


Island  qf  J/uida„Jake  qf  Agnano,„grotto  del  Cane,„bath9  qfSt,  (rermain* 


The  lake  of  Agnano  is  one  of 
the  objects  which  is  pointed  oiTt  to 
the  curiosity  of  a  stranger.  It  is 
about  four  miles  frdm  Naples.  Af- 
ter passing  the  grotto,  there  is  a 
house  on  the  road  side,  where  a 
guide  is  taken  to  conduct  him  to 
the  lake,  and  the  grottcJ  del  Cane. 
The  man  was  instantly  ready,  and 
Was  bringhig  as  usual  a  torch  and 
a  dog.  The  poor  animal  was 
toeagre  and  feeWe,  and  was  unwil- 
lingly dragged  along.  I  had  no 
wish  to  see  him  tortured,  and  in- 
sisted upon  his  being  released,  and 
his  actions  seeitied  to  me  more 
Expressive  than  words  codid  have 
been.  When  the  man  let  go  the 
i*ope  which  Was  round  his  neck  he 
did  not  immediately  run  away,  but 
looked  up  at  us  and  seemed  to 
wonder  how  he  had  escaped  his 
accustomed  torture ;  he  continued 
thus  till  we  drove  off,  and  then 
turned  slowly  round  and  returned 
to  the  house. 

The  guide  got  tip  behhid  the 
carriage  and  we  soon  turned  off  to 
the  right.  After  passing  for  some 
time  beautiful  fields  highly  culti-^ 
vated,  we  descended  a  hill  and 
came  in  si^ht  of  the  lake,  surfoun- 
dtA  by  hills.  It  b  a  beautiful 
piece  of  water,  about  half  a  mile  io. 

Vol.  III.  No.  4.     X 


circumference.  There  were  va*- 
lious  species  of  wild  fowl  sporting^ 
on  its  surface.  They  appeared  to 
be  conscious  of  the  security  they* 
enjoyed,  for  they  suffered  me  to 
come  close  to  thetn  without  dis- 
composing themselves.  The  sur- 
face of  the  lake  is  soihetimes  al- 
most covered  w?th  them.  It  forma 
a  part  of  the  territory  devoted  to 
the  htmting  pleasures  of  the  king^ 
and  no  vulgar  sportsman  ever 
dares  disturb  the  tranquillity  of 
the  place.  As  the  king  seldonk 
htmts  here,  the  birds  live  unmo- 
lested, and  multiply  continually. 
Nothing  could  be  fliore  pictur-< 
esque  tham  this  lake  surrounded 
by  hills  ;  ks  snoooth  scm^ce  waa 
unruffled  by  the  slightest  breeze^ 
the  wild  ducks  Were  Swimmings 
and  diving  in  perfect  security  $ 
there  were  no  houses  to  be  seen^ 
a  few  goats  Were  reposing  under 
the  shade  of  son^  trees  on  one 
Side,  and  except  these  there  was 
nothing  to  interrupt  this  delicious 
solitude,  which  i*ecalled  to  my 
mind  the  fabled  tranquillity  of  the 
golden  age. 

On  the  side  of  one  of  these  hills 
is  situated  the  grotto  del  Cane. 
This  is  only  a  hole  in  the  side  of 
the  luH,  closed  with  a  gate.    It  is 


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170 


LETTERS     FROar    EUIkOPB. 


not  capable  oF  containing  more 
than  half  a  dozen  people.  The 
bottom  is  jTuiddy,  covered  with/  a 
vapour,  destructive  to  animal  life. 
The  c;m<\^  prepares  himself  with 
two  [ightqd  torches  to  shew  the 
effect  ;  the  moment  that  one  of 
them  h  brought  within  a  few  in- 
ches of  the  bottom  it  is  instantly 
exiint^ulshcd.  The  vapour  docs 
not  rise  above  a  foot  from  the 
SU)  m<;t;,  and  is  confined  to  a  part 
of  the  cavcr  The  experiment  of 
tiic  torch  is  sufiicient  to  exemplify 
the  eftects,  but  a  number  of  dogs 
are  kept  to  gratify  the  miserable 
euriosity  of  ti-ose  who  choose  to 
sec  their  sufierings^.  The  animal, 
after  being  held  a  minute  in  the 
Qave,  is  thrown  into  strong  con-- 
\uIsions,  and  would  soon  empire  if 
sivfTercd  to  remain  ;  but  as  hi^ 
loriure  must  be  repeated  tq  gratify 
the  next  traveller  who  comes,  he 
i^  taken  out  before  he  is  quite  dead 
and  thrown  into  the  lake,  where 
he  soon  recovers.  From  this  ef- 
fect upon  dogs,  the  hole^  for  it  i» 
nothing  else,  receives  its  name. 

A  little  distant  from  tlie  grotto 
del  Cane,  and  on  the  border  of  the 
lake,  are  tlie  sweating  baths  of  St. 
Qerinuin.  These  are  some  low_ 
buildings  constructed  over  crevi- 
ces in  the  earth,  through  which 
hot  sulphureous  vapours  arise, 
which  are  considered  of  great  ser- 
vice in  many  disorders.  The  sick 
ftom  some  of  the  hospitals  at  Na-- 
Ijlca  are  occasionally  brought  here, 
^d  placed  for  some  hours  in  these 
]X>oms.  The  walU  and  floors  are 
covered  with  sulphur,  nitre,  de- 
posited by  the  vapour  in  ^le  most 
bcautifnl  forms.  The  vapour  is 
QOrilinually  flying  out  in  diff*erent 
places,  and  some  of  the  rooms  are 
^  hot  as  to  occasion  immediate 


This  circular  valley 4d  the  centre 
of  which  is  situated  the  lake  of  Agna-^ 
no,  is  without  doubt  tke  crater  of  an 
extinguished  volcano^  The  appear- 
ance of  the  sides  evidently  denotes 
this,  and  these  vapours  are  rem^ 
nants  of  its  ancient  volcanick  state. 
The  sra  niiMt  be  very  remoto^ 
when  tliis  crater  was  in  a  burning 
state,  as  no  record  of  it  is  found 
in  history,  and  the  sides  of  it  are 
now  covered  witl^  a  fertile  soil  ; 
and  to  effect  this  process,  nature 
requires  the  aid  of  many  centuries^ 

On  my  return  from  visiting  the 
lake,  as  it  was  a  fine  afternoon,  f 
did  not  return  immediately  to  the 
city,  but  rode  down  to  the  shore> 
which  is  about  two  miles  from  the 
grotto.  On  the  left  was  the  pro- 
montory of  Posiiipo,  and  to  tha 
right  the  beach  extends  towards 
Pozzuoli#  In  front,  and  but  a  short 
distance  from  the  shore,  is  the 
island  of  ^isida  ;  this  is  a  mere 
rock,  of  small  circumference,  rising 
almost  perpendicularly  out  of  the 
water ;  it  contains  a  small  fort.  It 
is  £^  place  where  vessels  perform 
quarantine  and  unlade  their  car- 
goes, when  they  come  from  any 
country  where  contagious  diseases* 
prevail.  The  directors  of  the 
health  oflice  will  not  permit  themt^ 
to  come  within  the  mole  of  Naples^ 
and  they  are  obliged  to  remain 
here  forty  or  sixty  days,  and  some* 
times  for  a  longer  period. 

It  is  a  pleasing  ride  from  the 
beach  to  the  grotto,  and  a  commoa- 
excursion  in  the  afternoon.  Oa 
netuming  through  the  grotto  to- 
war<ls  evening,  if  the  servant  is  not 
provided  with  a  torch,  it  is  the  cus- 
tom to  purchase  at  a  houss  close 
by  the  entrance  a  little  bunch  of 
bark  stripped  from  the  grape  vinesji- 
which  bums  long  enough  to  li^ht^ 
)^  thcougjii  the  i^tto* 


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THE     FAMILY     PHYSICIANV 


Ul 


FOR    THE    AJ^THOLOGY. 


FAMILY    »ITS»CIAt«. 


JVo.  6. 


IN  ittf  last  number,  as  jnay  be 
remembered  by  a  few,  I  admitted 
that  gcDtlemcn  df  the  faculty  are 
too  fond  of  indulging  in  theoretical 
speculations.  After  remarking 
that  all  mankind  were  prone  to  the 
the  same  lazy  habit,  I  stated  some 
causes  which  pardcularly  led  phy- 
sicians into  it.  The  reasons  there 
stated  were  founded  upon  a  pre- 
sumption that  th)^  Doctors  knew 
the  truth,  hat  cottld  not  make  it 
tntelligible  to  others.  But  we  are 
still  more  strongly  induced  to  talk 
fionf^nse,  when  we  are  unable  to 
Ynake  an  explanation  satisfactory 
to  ourselves.  For  how  shaU  we 
avow  this  to  the  patient,  and  thus 
authorize  him  to  doubt  our  omnis* 
cience.  Explain  we  must  ;  and 
here  agaiin  if  others  are  sfidsfied 
vith  out  sophistry,  which  they 
may  easily  be  made  to  be,  we  are 
apt  to  feel  contented  with  it  like- 
wise. 

L#et  it  not  be  supposed  that  I 
%rcL  making  a  precious  confession 
of  the  ignorance  of  the  faculty. 
Doubt  not,  gentle  reader,  that  we 
are  stored  with  science.  But  our 
knowledge  is  still  progressive. 
We  shall  not  for  a  century  to 
come  know  what  plants  will 
spring  up  in  a  garden,  when  we 
kiiow  not  what  seed  has  been 
sown  in  it ;  nor  shall  we  sooner 
than  that  be  able  to  assign  to 
every  vegetable  its  true  place  by 
seeing  its  first  germination,  or  by 
viewing  a  single  leaf.  The  sci- 
ence of  phy  sicks  is  embarrassed  by 
its  relation  to  facts  ;  it  has  not 
yet  approached  so  near  to  pure  in- 
telligence  as  mathematicks. 

Our  patients  lead  us  to  adopt 
64$e  doctrine  not  only  by  oblig- 


ing us  to  talk,  but  also  by  hurry- 
ing us  to  act.  We  must  do  some- 
thing, at  least  so  the  Doctors  com- 
monly think,  or  we  shall  be  dis- 
placed, not  by  the  more  kno\ung, 
but  by  the  more  daring.  Under 
such  circ;um6tances  the  medical 
man  discovers  that  Ms  rtpiuation 
depends  not  so  much  on  his  itral 
acquisitions,  as  evidenced  in  las 
practice,  as  upon  keeping  up  a 
good  face,  and  talking  wtIL 

But  it  is  asked,  what  all  tliis 
leads  to  ?  Must  the  patient  detail 
his  complaints  and  then  receive 
his  orders  without  any  explanation 
of  his  situation,  without  any  inti- 
mation of  the  importance  of  Lis 
disease,  or  of  the  probable  course 
of  it  \  Must  no  good  lady  follow 
the  Doctor  to  the  door  to  ask  what 
he  really  thinks,  and  kindly  to  sug- 
gest her  own  remarks  \  I  answer 
that  I  propose  not  such  seycre 
restrictions.  If  principles  are 
straight  lines,  as  practice  is  never 
governed  by  one  principle  alone, 
so  the  line  of  practice  is  variously 
inflected.  The  anxiety  of  the  sick 
and  their  friends  must  be  attended 
to,  and  even  their  cuiiosity  grati- 
fied when  it  can  easily  be  done. 
But  if  a  physician  is  employed,  in 
whom  a  proper  confidence  is  re- 
posed, he  should  be  allowed  his 
own  time  to  form  and  to  express 
his  sentiments  ;  or,  at  least,  the 
patient  and  his  friends  should  only 
give  him  occasional  opportunities 
of  makingexplanatiohs,without  im- 
posing on  him  an  absolute  necessity 
of  so  doing.  The  physician  at  the 
same  time  should  feel  bound  to 
state  every  thing  within  his  know^ 
ledge,  of  which  the  communica- 
tion  can  benefit  the  patient.        C. 


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in 


THOUGHTS  ON  TACITUS. 


FOR    THE    MONTHLY  AJ^THOLOGY. 


THOUGHTS     ON     TACITUS. 


^tm%ra  vtti,  *l  li/ci,  0  titretttm  ipivrnt  tantam  mihi  ajinmi  ^clyf^atem^  mi    hUr   fr^td" 

fyos  emrminum  fruetut  mamerem^  qtiod  met  im   strefiht r«. 

fiompcmumtur Tacitut   Dial  de  CraL  12. 

Jlot  woodi  ind  groves  ind  solitary  places  to  me  afford  sensations  of  a  pure  delight.  It  is  there 
J  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  a  poetick  imagination  ;  and  among  those  pleasures  It  Is  not  the  least 
fhat  they  ve  pursued  lar  from  the  noise  ^nd  bustle  df  the  Forl4*  Murphy's  Trans. 


THE  silent  recesses  of  poetry 
are  the  residence  of  pure  hearts 
and  cultivated  minds.  Folly  and 
vice  do  not  disturb  by  their  intem- 
perance or  criminality  the  distant 
retreat  of  the  poet ;  and  leisure  is 
always  to  be  found  for  strengthea* 
ing  the  foundations  of  pietyy  and 
invigoradng  the  germinations  of 
:genius.  Nature  affords  continual 
subjects  for  the  experiments  of 
fancy,  and  her  admirer  always  de- 
lights to  exercise  his  mind  in  such 
pleasant  recreations.  He  is  sur- 
rounded by  scen|es,  which  may 
gratify  the  fullest  exuberance  of 
imagination  ;  and  before  him  are 
scattered  thopsands  of  objects, 
•which  by  som^  peculiar  attribute 
give  new  incitement  to  the  play- 
someness  of  fancy.  Remoteness 
from  ncdse  and  dissipation  is  to  the 
pure  lover  of  poetry  approxima- 
tion to  beauty  and  tri^th.  As  he 
lias  receded  from  vice,  he  has  ad- 
vanced towards  purity  ;  and  if  he 
has  left  the  pomp  and  prodigality 
of  a  Roman  metropolis,  he  lives 
in  the  coolness  and  greenness  of 
the  valley,  communing  with  his 
own  spirit,  or  conversing  with  those 
illustrious  intelligences,  who  are 
imiiiortal  in  their  writings.  Se- 
cedit  animus  in  loca  pura  atque 
innocentia,  fruitui*que  sedibus  sa- 
cris.  "  Free  from  those  distrac- 
tions, the  poet  retires  to  scenes  of 
foiitude,  where  peace  and  inno- 
f^cc  reside.    In  those  haunts  of 


contemplation,  he  has  his  pleasing 
visions.  He  treads  on  consecrated 
ground.'' 

Tacitus,  in  the  Dialogus  de 
Oratoribus,  has  in  the  person  of 
Maternus  described  in  finished 
composition  the  beauties  and  the 
charms  of  poetry.  He  has  cxhib* 
ited  them  in  the  strength  of  truth 
and  in  the  elegance  of  fiction  ;  and 
he  has  added  new  power  to  his 
picture  by  contrasting  them  with 
the  disgust  and  deformity  of  the 
practice  of  law  and  publick  decla** 
mation.  This  however  was  not 
the  particular  object  of  Tacitus. 
It  only  serves  as  a  most  beautiful 
introduction  to  the  general  sub- 
ject to  be  afterwards  fully  dis- 
cussed, the  causes  of  corrupt  elo- 
quence. We  are  indeed  highly 
indebted  to  the  Roipan  historian 
for  such  a  dialogue,  and  perhaps 
we  ought  not  to  regret,  that  he  has 
discoursed  more  upon  oratory, 
than  poetry.  Yet  Tacitus  might 
have  entered  farther  into  the  de- 
scription of  the  elegance  of  verse 
and  the  felicity  of  the  poet.  He 
might  also  have  opposed  the  se- 
renity of  silence  apd  the  attractions 
of  retreat  to  other  causes  of  dis- 
quietude, than  the  perplexity  of  law 
and  the  tumults  of  eloquence.  An 
orator,  whose  heart  is  bursting 
with  ambition,  and  whose  cheek  is 
bloated  with  declamation,  and  a 
^awyer  besieged  with  complaining 
clients    and  tormented  VUh  con- 


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TtfOVORTS  bN  TACITUB. 


ITS 


tradictory  statements  and  testi- 
mony, are  ipdeed  far  removed  from 
the  tranquillity  and  cheerful  devo- 
tion of  the  worshipper  of  nature  ; 
but  the  avaricious  merchant,  the 
wily  s|>eculator,  and  the  idle  genr 
tleroan  '«ire  also  the  fit  subjects  for 
the  experiments  of  spleen  and  the 
tortures  of  disappointment.  The 
miserable  beings,  who  haunt  the 
publick  and  private  places  of  dissir 
padon,  like  thin  ghosts  of  depart- 
ed reality,  are  far  from  the  sweet 
complacency  of  rural  scenery  and 
the  endless  delights  of  varying  nar 
ture.  Look  at  the  sad  counte- 
nances of  some,  and  -remark  the 
malignant  joyfulness  of  others, 
who  are  occupied  in  schemes,  in 
folly,  in  riot,  in  nonsense,  and  wick- 
edness,...and  then  wonder  at  their 
wishes  and  pursuits.  With  such 
beings  the  poet  has  no  sympathy. 
He  hates  their  melancholy  and 
thdr  turbulence.  He  flies  from 
their  contact,  as  the  traveller  from 
a  storm,  and  is  glad  that  he  knows 
their  folly  only  by  instinctive  averr 
uon  ;  and  he  rejoices  that  the  silent 
contagion  of  their  complaints  nev- 
er i^ects  the  salubrity  of  his 
groves,  fmd  tliat  he  hears  their  tri- 
umphs and  huzzas  only  by  the 
gentle  undulations  of  distant  noise, 
which  softly  flow  to  his  retreat. 
If  from  necessity  he  is  sometimes 
obliged  to  be  present  at  scepes, 
which  his  poetry  and  purity  reject, 
he  sighs  for  his  clear  sky  or  shady 
woodwalk,  and  exclaims  in  the  lan^ 
guage  of  Matemus,  Me  vera  dut- 
ches, ut  Virgilius  ait,  Mus9,  remo- 
tum  a  sollicitudinibus,  et  curis,  et 
necessitate  quotidie  aUquid  contra 
animum  faciendi  in  ilia  sacra  illos- 
que  fbntes  ferant.  «  But,  as  Vir- 
gil sweetly  sings,  me  let  the  sacred 
liluses  lea^  to  their  soft  retreats, 
their  living  fountains  and  melodi- 
ous groves,  where  I  may  dwell, 
remote  from  care,  master  of  my- 
self, and  under  no  necessity  of  do- 


ing every  day  what  my  heart  con- 
demns." 

No  one  will  depy  the  felicity  of 
the  poet  thus  situated,  for  his  cher- 
ished recess  is  far  from  the  tu- 
mults and  strife  of  the  world,  and 
yet  if  inclination  prompt,  he  may 
taste  in  fiill  luxuriance  the  various 
blessings  of  society.  Virgil  some- 
times left  his  retreat  and  honoured 
the  capital  of  the  world  with  his 
presence  ;  he  was  welcomed  at 
the  banquets  of  Augustus,  and  at 
the  theatre  he  received  the  ap- 
plauses of  the  Roman  people^ 
Testes  Augusti  epistoljc,  testes 
ipse  populus,  qui  auditis  in  tlieatro 
versibus  Virgilii,  surrexit  univefr 
BUS,  et  forte  prxsentem  spec- 
tantemque  Virgilium  veneratu$ 
es,  sic  quasi  Augustum.  "  To 
prove  this,  the  letters  of  Augustus 
are  still  extant  ;  and  the  people, 
we  know,  hearing  in  the  theatrfe 
some  verses  of  Virgil,  when  he 
himself  was  present,  rose  in  a  body 
and  paid  him  every  mark  of  homr 
age,  with  a  degree  of  veneration, 
nothing  short  of  what  they  usually 
offered  to  the  emperour."  Yet 
such  scenes  were  not  congenial  to 
the  purity  and  elevation  of  hia 
mind.  He  rather  loved  his  green 
shades  and  sequestered  walks  ;  he 
admired  loneliness  and  cool  tranr 
quillity,  where  the  heart  may  find 
utterance  for  devotion,  and  poetry 
may  soften  the  passions  to  mel- 
lowness. 

Rura  mihi  et  riqui  placeant  in  vallibu^ 

amnet, 

Flumina  amem  silvasque  ingforias 

O  qui  me  geli^it  in  vallii>ut  Hzmt 

Sisut,  et  iogenti  ramonun  protegat  um- 

bri  !  Geor.  2.  485. 

Oh  may  I  yet,  by  fame  forgotten,  dwell 
By  gushing  founti,  wild  wood,  and  sha4if 

pyry  ddl ! 

Hide  me,  some  God,  where  Hxmus'  valea 
extend 

And  boundless  shade  and  solitude  de- 
fend. SoTHi»v 


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17% 


THOrOHTS   OK   TAClTUf. 


In  hit  tilk  near  Naples,  Virgil 
enjoyed  all  the  quiet  and  silence 
he  loved.  He  was  lired  of  the 
brawls  and  civil  contentions,  which 
had  so  long  agitated  the  Roman 
commonweaHh.  Poetry  he  adori- 
ed,  and  with  the  fullest  inspiration 
of  the  Muses  he  composed  his 
Geprgics  and  part  of  the  jEneid 
in  the  pleasantness  of  retirement* 
Ht  there  loved  to  muse  on  the 
mellowness  of  the  landscape,  to 
study  the  curious  economy  of  his 
bees,  and  to  revel  in  the  ransack 
of  Troy,  and  luxuriate  in  the  fu* 
jture  splendour  of  lulus.  Such 
■was  Ihe  lovely  mind  of  the  poet, 
ihat,  though  he  vras  equal  to  the 
most  dignified  elevation  in  heroick 
poetry,  he  continually  adverts  to 
nature  and  her  analogies.  We 
accompany  Jloeas  to  hell  with  su- 
))lime  feeling,  and  with  great  in- 
terest are  we  present  at  his  com- 
bat with  Tumus,  yet  how  do  we 
love  to  linger  on  the  tranquil  inlet, 
retreating  from  the  boisterous  or 
^ean  on  the  African  shore  ;  and  is 
It  not  most  pleasant,  like  Meli* 
bcus,  to  talk  of  liberty  and  rural 
life  with  fortunate  old  Titynis,  re- 
IDubans  sub  tegmine  fugi.  Study  the 
biography  of  Virgil,  read  his  Ec- 
logues and  Georgics,  and  you  will 
6nd  how  much  his  mind  was  de- 
voted to  the  poetry  of  nature  and 
ks  consequent  felicity.  He  is  con- 
linually  delighted  with  the  fruits 
pf  his  own  farm,  the  shady  beech, 
the  curling  vines,the  hour  of  even- 
ing, the  high  rock,  the  young 
gheep,  and  the  wood-rpigcon.  With 
such  scenes  and  ohjects  before 
tiim,  his  fency  was  fertile  and  his 
pictures  were  true.  His  reflec- 
tions and  remarks  are  perfectly 
correspondent  They  have  all  the 
fteanty  of  truth  and  all  the  loreli- 
ness  of  morals.     It  seems  as  if 


the  purity  and  innocence  of  natmt 
were  fitted  necessarily  to  escita 
feelings  of  goodness  and  send* 
ments  of  piety.  Virgil,  from  his 
single  objects  or  his  landscapes, 
loves  to  glide  gently  into  morals ; 
the  tale  is  told,  and  the  applicatiai 
is  known  ;  the  picture  is  complet* 
ed,  and  its  virtue  is  irresistible ; 
the  poet  has  instructed  like  t 
preacher,  and  the  preacher  hat 
charmed  like  a  poet. 

Such  subUme  effects  were  part* 
ly  owing  to  his  retirement  from 
the  nonsense  and  business  of  the 
world.  He  fled  from  tlie  stupid 
admiration  of  the  crowd,  and  tb« 
incessant  din  of  parasites  and  fodii 
to  the  tranquillity  of  his  villa  ami 
the  pure  musick  of  nature.  Herfe 
he  passed  his  hours  as  his  verses 
have  celebi^ated,  and  enjoyed  sueh 
felicity  as  Matemvis  has  eulogized, 
Ac  ne  fortunam  quidem  vatum,  et 
illud  felix  contubcmium,coinparare 
timucrim  cum  inquieta  ct  anxil 
oratorum  Tita :  licet  illoacertamint 
et  pericula  sua  ad  consulatus  etex* 
crint,  malo  securum  ct  aecretum 
Virgilii  secessum,  in  quo  tamen 
neque  apud  divum  Augnstum  gra* 
tia  caruit,  neque  apud  popuhna 
Romanura  notitia.  «  If  we  now 
consider  the  happy  condition  of 
the  true  poet,  and  that  easy  com' 
merce  in  which  he  passes  his  titne, 
need  we  fear  to  compare  his  sitaa* 
tion  with  that  of  the  boasted  oH* 
tor,  who  leads  a  life  of  anxiety, 
oppressed  by  business  and  over* 
whelmed  with  care  I  But  it  is  said, 
his  contention,  his  toil,  and  danger, 
are  steps  to  the  consulship.  How 
much  more  eligible  was  the  soft 
retreat  in  which  Virgil  passed  hii 
days,  beloTfed  by  the  prince,  and 
honoured  by  the  people  I** 

QUIKTILIAIC* 


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SllTJi. 


krs 


FOR     THE    AXTHOLOGY. 
SILVA. 


Aa.   ii. 


•  ti  ««  foTie  nofinunquam  tetnpys  ^ohpiastpie  nit    loaiirafmnevlas  htas  tD^nonerr,  petiium 
imfHratvmque  vttvmys  ;    ut  in  hgtndoy  qux   pridem    icierint^  km  ejpemrntur  quasi 


im^nt!gataqu4 

ttioMir 


mam    it    quid    him    remttum   ia  Iktfri*    at,    quin  iJ   tamen    cbrnpluuvH 

i\.  Gellius,  Prsf.  in  Ngct.  Att. 


MODERN   SCHOLARS. 

THERE  is  hardly  a  surer 
inark  of  the  degeneracy  of  modern 
Iheralure,  than  the  inordinate  at-* 
tention  which  is  now  paid  to 
bibliography.  The  knowledge  of 
dtle  pages  has  succeeded  to  the 
knowledge  of  subjects,  and  to  as- 
eertuin  the  year  of  an  editio  firin-i 
eepM  is  now  thought  of  as  much 
knportance  and  divides  the  learned 
SA  seriously,  as  to  settle  the  true 
JtAX  of  the  birth  of  Chri^st.  ^irc 
m^  aH^d  /toasts  inverdre^  magna 
fmr»  eruditionrs  €9C  ;  but  to  know 
«*er^  a  tiling  may  be  found  is 
▼cry  consistent  with  ignorance  of 
^hat  may  be  found  there.  It  is 
well  worth-  inquiry  whether  the 
Hmumerable  literary  journals  of 
the  present  age  have  promoted 
Ae  cause  of  real  learning.  Cer^ 
tain  it  is,  that  the  race  of  laborious 
scholars  is  nearly  extinct.  Bo-' 
chart  may  perhaps  be  said  to  have 
been  revived  in  Bryant  ;  Walton 
«nd  Castell  in  Kennicot^  Bent** 
ley  in  Wakefield,  and  more  than 
tae  scholar  of  the  old  school  fn- 
Siir  William  Jones.  But  these  meiv 
are  now  dead  !  Where  now  are 
th«  universal  scholars^  who  can 
loast  of  being  the  legitimatB 
aoccessors  of  Selden,  Grdtnis,  L# 
Clerc,  Vossius,  and  Baylc  ?  What 
wonderfully  cro^vded  and  compre- 
hensive minds  I  Alas,  we  are 
iardly  competent  to  the  republi- 
cation of  their  works.  Damnosa 
^nid  non  imminuit  dies  i 


DEVOTIONAL   POETRY- 

If  I  understand  Dr.  Johnson's 
remarks  on  this  subject,  in  his  life 
of  Waller,  he  means  only  to  aajr 
that  the  private  exercises  of  n 
pious  mind  are  not  susceptible  of 
a  poetical  dress,  because  if  they 
are  expressed  at  all  they  must  be 
expressed  in  language,  which  has 
been  appropriated  to  passions  less 
sacred.  Hence  mo  Jt  of  the  sacred 
poetry  of  Dr. Watts  may, by  the  oc- 
casional substitution  of  the  names* 
of  mortal  beauties,  be  converted 
ihto  love  songs  and  canzonettas. 
But  when  JohnsoA  goes  on  to  ^y,' 
that'  the  **  enlargement  of  ouf 
comprehension,  or  the  elevation 
of  our  fancy  is  rarely  to  be  hoped 
from  ihetrical  devotion,  because 
whatever  is  great,  desirable,  o* 
tremendous  Js  comprised  in  the 
name  of  the  Supreme  Being,** 
surely  he,  miist  have  forgotten  tlie 
sacred  poetry  of  Bavki,  and  the  su* 
blime  prayer  of  Habakkuk^  which 
you  cannot  read  without  breathing 
ihort  with  rapture.  •*  Omnipo^ 
tence,  he  says,  cannot  be  exalted.** 
True  ;  but  its  operations  may  be 
described,  and  our  conceptions  be 
made  to  approxknate  toward  what 
we  can  never  fully  embrace^ 
«  Infinity  cannot  be  ampUfied."^ 
Neither  can  it  1^  ki  strictness  coiU'' 
prehended  ;  but  the  mind  may  be 
filled  witli  iUustrations  of  a  subj^ 
which  it  cannot  completely  gra)^« 
^  Perfection  cannot  be  improved,'^ 
But  it  may  be  6Qnt^)»pli4<;4f  9(A 
admired,  and  x\m  is  all  which  devo« 


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SILVA. 


tional  poetry  alms  at  accomplish* 
ing.  Surely  the  morning  hymn  of 
Adam  and  Eve  in  Milton,  Thom- 
son's hymn  on  the  seasons,  and  the 
devotional  pieces  of  Mrs.  Barbauld 
ve  sufficient  to  rescue  English 
Ycpse  from  the  censure  of  Johnson, 
when  he  says,  "  that  all  attempts 
to  animate  devotion  by  pious  poe- 
try have  miscarried."  The  true 
reason  of  these  miscarriages  I  sus- 
jfect  is  this  ;  that  the  finest  poets 
have  not  been  the  most  devotional 
Christians,  or  the  greatest  saints 
have  not  been  the  best  poets. 

LITEKARV   ANECDOTt. 

It  is  curious  to  observe  what 
confusion,  uncertainty,  and  con-^ 
tradiction  involve  one  of  our 
most  noted  literary  anecdotes. 
"VVho  has  not  heard  the  famous 
story  of  the  student  at  one  of  the 
English  universities,  who  was  re^ 
quired  to  write  a  theme  upon  the 
miracle  at  Cana,  and  having  de- 
layed his  task  till  he  was  in  danger 
of  being  punished  for  his  negli- 
gence, rescued  himself  by  the  fol- 
lowing impromptu. 

The  modest  water  taw  Its  Go4  and  bloihed. 

The  truth  is,  that  this  is  a  literal 
▼ersion  of  the  last  line  of  a  latin 
epigram  of  Crashaw,  the  first  col-* 
lection  of  whose  poems  was  pub* 
lished  in  1646.  The  line  alluded 
to  is  the  following. 

Lympha  pudka  Deum  vidit  &  crabuk. 

-  This  veiy  epigram  was  after- 
wards translated  by  Aaron  Hill, 
one  of  the  heroes  of  the  Dunciad> 

and  passed  for  an  origiiHd« 

t 

When  Christ  at  Cana*s  feast  by  power  divine 
Inspired  cold  water  with  the  warmth  of  wine. 
See  i  cried  they,  while  In  reddening  tide  It  gnsh*d 
tlw  bashful  itrcim  hath  lico  UiXJod  aad  Uoihad. 


DR.  AIKI5. 
It  was  said  by  Aikin  of  the  late 
Dr.  Enfield,  tltat  he  was  perfect 
master  of  what  may  be  called  the 
middle  etylc.  If  any  living  author 
may  claim  the  honour  of  succeed- 
ing to  this  character  it  is  Aikin 
himself.  His  «  letters  to  his 
son"  should  be  in  the  hands  of 
every  young  man,  upon  hb  en- 
trance into  the  world,  in  preference 
to  Little's  poems  ;  and  his  «  let- 
ters to  a  young  lady  upon  a  course 
of  English  poetry"  are  worth  at 
least  as  much  as  any  bonnet  in 
Cornhill.  There  is  a  chastencss 
of  sentiment,  a  susceptibility  of 
poe  ical  beauty,  a  coolness  of  ded* 
sion,  and  a  liberality  of  mind  dis- 
co^  ered  in  every  line  of  this  en- 
gaging writer,  which  show  the 
influence  of  literature  on  a  mind, 
which  perhaps  bears  no  very  ori- 
ginal stamp,  but  b  solid  enough 
to  take  a  polish,  and  pure  enough 
to  reflect  rays  of  genius^  and  of 
tastt' 

^^ 

^ORT   FOLIO. 

The  editor  of  this  work  de- 
serves the  thanks  of  his  country- 
men for  his  perseverance  in  the 
ungrateful  task  of  disciplining  the 
taste  of  a  money -getting  age.  I 
will  ventufe  to  say  that  the  literary 
history  of  modem  times  does  not 
Ornish  a  more  honourable  instance 
of  a  miscellany  devoted  exclusive- 
ly to  elegant  literature,  and  relying 
for  support  on  the  intellectual 
sympathy  and  lettered  generosity 
of  a  people,  whose  literary  exports 
are  so  few,  and  so  unprofitable, 
and  who  will  long  find,  I  fear, 
that  the  balance  of  trade  is  against 
them*  We  were  glad  to  see  this 
popular  work  assume  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  year  a  more  graceful 
and  convenient  costume.  If  it 
would  retain  the  admiration  of  the 
elegantium  fonuarum  spcctatorcs, 


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PRKSBUT  STATE  OF  LITBRATUEB)  IcC.  XV  XTALT. 


I7f 


let  it  exhibit  no  wanton  airs,  no 
wicked  looks,  no  Cjrpiian  gestures. 
Mille  habet  arnatus  ;  let  lis  be  al- 
ways authorized  to  add,  miUc  dc' 
center  habet, 

BISHOP*  OP  ALERIA. 

I  WAS  long  puzzled  to  know  who 
was  the  bishop  of  Aleria,  mention* 
cd  in  Johnson's  prefisice  to  Shake- 
speare, as  the  father  of  conjectural 
criticbm.  I  have  since  foimd  that 
his  name  was  John  Andrew,  that 
he  was  secretary  of  the  Vatican  li- 
brary, and  was  employed,  at  the 
first  introduction  of  printing  into 
Rome,  in  revising  manuscripts, 
writing  prefaces  and  dedications, 
and  correcting  proofs.  Pope  Paul 
II.  appointed  him  to  the  bishop- 
rick  of  Aleria  in  the  island  of  Cor- 
nea, where  he  died  in  the  year 
1493.    ^  The  republick  of  letters 


b  indebted  to  him  for  on  edition 
of  Livy  and  of  Auhis  Gellius, 
printed  at  Rome,  in  &Uoy  1469  ; 
of  Herodotus  in  1475  ;  and  of 
Strabo,  printed  at  Venice,  in  folioy 
in  1472  ;  he  also  edited  the  epis- 
tles of  Cyprian,  and  the  works  of 
St.  Leo." 


PUNNING   EPIOBAM. 

Trb  foUoNving  epigram  was 
written  by  Sannazarius,  upon  the 
erection  of  two  bridges  over  the 
Seine,  by  Jucundus  or  Giocondoy 
who  was  afterwards  joined  with 
Raphael  and  San  Gallo,  after  the 
death  of  Bramante,  in  superintend- 
ing the  erection  of  St.  Peter's.  The 
point  cannot  be  preserved  in  En- 
glish. 

Jucundus  geminos  fecit    tibi,  8equ«iU| 

pontes  : 
lore  tnum  potit  banc  ^SxMXt  pwti/Um^ 


ACCOtJXT  OP  THE  PEXSKNT  STATS  OF  UTERATV&B  AND    THE  A&Tt 

IN  ITALY. 

Collected  ia  •  tow  ttuough  tb^  coontry  la  1803,  by  M.  Fcmew. 

From  the  Monthly  Magazine^ 


THE  lateness  of  the  season  and 
other  circumstances  obliged  me 
to  use  greater  expedition  on  my 
return  through  Italy,  than  I  had 
intended.  I  have  not,  therefore, 
been  able  to  make  all  the  inquiries 
I  wished  into  the  state  of  the  liter- 
ature and  the  arts  in  upper  Italy. 
The  few  notices  which  1  shall  now 
communicate  compose  my  whole 
collection. 

I  know  not  whether  you  have 
heard  of  the  new  Academia  Ital" 
iana.  It  has  existed  about  two 
^ears,and  has  this  peculiarity,  that 
It  has  no  fixed  place  of  residence. 
Ks  members,  among  whom  are 
the  most  celebrated  literati  in  ev- 
ery  department  of  wcicncc,  and 

Vol.  III.  No.  4.     Y 


many  of  the  first  artists,  are  dis- 
persed throughout  all  Italy,  tt 
has  likewise  foreign  associates  ia 
France,  England,  and  Germany, 
whose  number  was  at  first  fixed  at 
foi-ty,  but  which  is  now  intended  to 
be  augmetited  to  an  hundred.  The 
present  president  of  the  Academy 
is  Count  Vargas,  who  Is  known  to 
the  publick  by  his  Saggio  sull'  Efi" 
fiigramma  Greco^  and  other  literary 
labours.  He  now  resides  at  Na- 
ples. I  called,  at  Siena,  upon  the 
secretary,  Sachetti,  who  carries  on 
the  conxspondence  of  the  Acade- 
my, and  superintends  the  publica- 
tion of  its  Transactions,  in  order 
to  inquire  more  minutely  into  the 
constitution  and   objecta  of  this 


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♦?f 


J!RfR¥1P  ^^rf>  Of  i|TWATu|i?i  4«» 


0ocicjy,  whiph,  j|  B^i^rf  time  pre- 
ti9Vis  tp  iw  depaimr?  ftpro  Rpmp, 
^i4  me  %  Ui9np^r  i«  ej^ec^  n^  ^ 

,  I  sp^^t  t>fp  dftyi  ai:  %j>a,  sm^  . 
Va3  employed  tlve  grc^^f t  p^?t  of 
Ibat  Unte  in  vi^wir^  tbe  Stenese 
school,  with  which  I  hact  feefgre 
Kut  an  imperfect  acquakitance.  Its 
finest  nias^er-piec^  bjavfi  fortii- 
tiat»:Iy;  been  preserved  froja  the 
tempest  of  the  revolution,  probajt 
filjr  hec^i^e  in  Fr^ce  thi?  schoo^ 
i£i  ies3  knp^  than  it  deserves  to 
be/  ^  saw  m  the  churches  i^  gre4 
iiuna^rof  exquisite  pictures  by 
^altha^^  PeVuzzi,  Sodena,  Caso^ 
lani,  9M  others,  which,  }n  colour* 
^S  ^d^  expression,  far  excel  the 
works*  of  the  Florentine  school,  of 
the  same  l»erx>dt  The  mannerists 
of  tills  scfiooi,  however,  \^gkk 
yv^  ]^ca«]iini,  an^  Vmk,^ 
since  their  titne,  it  has  funushed 
no  productions  of  merft*  I  cojobl 
not  procure  a  sight  of  the  cele-^ 

Umtd  ^dQQ%  paipt^9  in  12?U 

by  Guido  di  Siena,  which  ens^Udd 
the  Sienese  to  dispute  with  the 
Florentines  the'  inerik  of  tiieir 
Cimabue  m  the  pestora^on  of 
painting  ;  for  the  church  of  St. 
Dofnenicoy  ^here  It  fbrmerlj 
]iung,  wa^  destroyed  by  the  late 
fi^rthquake,  and  the  pictures  have 
bc^en  reipoved  fix>ip  it  tp  ^  place 
lo  which  I  coidd  not  obtaia  admitr 
tance*  The  paintings  ei^cuted 
by  Pinturkcbib,  apd  by  Rafuel 
d'Vrbiuo  in  bis  early  youth,  whi^h 
arc  placed  in  the  library  adjoining 
the  cathedral,  were  mu^h  mor^ 

Steresting  to  me  tha^  the  floor  oif 
e  latter  figured  by  Bei^cafumL 
If  wkh  diesp  productions  yoii 
compare  those  of  Pinturipchio's 
pencil,  ajone,  the  superrority  of 
Rafkera  genius  immediately  ap^ 
peart*  The  gaUer^  of  Span- 
jsocchi  and  Saracirvi  are  Ukewise 
vorthgi^,  g£  notice  »  thi^  cpntai^ 


Wany  good  ^pi^s  by  $iff>e«| 
pa^i^rs,  together  with  fOWip  ^api- 
t^  pno^Mcti^nf  of  Qfii^v  ikliools. 

At  lieghqjT^  J  \f *»  »»!W  QuripM» 
to  see  the  library  of  Q^^et^p  Pog-. 
giali,  a  man  of  letters,  and  the 
propriet9V  hiriv^e^  .^e  is  a  mem* 
tier  ^f^|>^  A.ca4exay  of  FlQ^i^^pe, 
aa4QI^  pC  the  ppepft  9ie^4^^  Crusr 
cqnti,  He  is  9^i:\y-  qi^CHl^  ii^' 
^ndeavou^ig;  to  ^^  to  th^  r^put^t 
tion  of  the  Ut^ratur^  pf  bjia  l^tiv^ 
cp^yitry,  by  editiftpa  ^  cl^^K 
works,  fC)folttpL^g  elcgaixc^  fWi 
th^  otiTi^  correcln^s.  for  tjaj^ 
piilVfpose  he  devp^  ^wp  ^%  i^ 
th^^  ^eek  to  the  co)i%tio9  of  v^^»f^ 
scripts  an4  e^ly  e^liuons,  ipr 
whiph  b^  but  <bur  aa^^g^|i» 
I^<>gg^li>  lfl?Wyi  wfeujb  <<Q^$ai9| 
lOtWfX  voluqi^St  i^  yi^nyalf^  ^j 
^Y  in  Italy,  ^  igeU  pi  the  apqieDti 
Ofid  i»r^  ^tipfii^  of.  ^taljpui  AUtbQ«!% 
as  in  those  which  are  more  mod- 
ern and  elegant.  There  is  not 
a  book  in  it  which  is  not  distiiw 
goiah^  eitim  ^  ^a  ]»r^fc  <^l* 
rectnessj  or  by  some  other  typo* 
graphical  excellence.  How  little 
K  wants  of  being  complete,  appears 
from  the  catalogue  of  the  books 
which  are  still  wanting,  and  whose 
fium^r  an^ofots,  to  alboot  aso. 
He  besides  pos^^sqs  a  cot^sidera^ 
ble  coUection  of  ma^qsGript8,whJx:h^ 
with  the  early  ediUonS|  qccupjf 
anoither  ap^qneAt ;  a^opg  tbesCf 
he  shewed  me,  as  the  tnost  pr^^ 
cioi|s  artri:^e  ip  th<^  ooH^xU^p,  a 
ra^pijcripti  copy  of  D^(e,  o^ 
porp^ment,  which  he  con^^rs^ 
9fie  oi(  the  i^ost  s^p^ient,  an^  pi^ 
babiy  contemporary  with  t^  auf 
tbor.  Poggiaji  has*  a  design,  of 
pi:int£ng  this  wof^^^^  whiQh  €;optajbQf 
a  great  nnmber  ii  passages  that 
vary  cons^en^ly  from  t^e:  ordinal 
ry  v^rsioi^s,  and  would :  cl^^  up 
many  obscurities ip  JDantef  tpgetk* 
er  with  the  mi^rc^i  copam^tary; 
with   which,  it  i^,  accompani^ 


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«rrs  4K  irti/tw 


cnf 


td^y  acquired  in  thirty  years 
spent  in*  coikction  ahd  stady,  is  as 
itnifue  as  his  Hbhu'y.  He  men^ 
tioned  that  he  had  tame  idea  of 
pubHsfaiii^f  at  one  time  orothei'} 
a  bibtiof^raphy  of  itaban'  titeraCiire. 
Poggiaitt  iidk  amjiinctian  ivitk  fdur 
other  members  of  the  Acad^myr 
9f  FltirdBce,  has,  ^r  several  years^ 
been  edlecting  materials  f6r  a  new 
edition  of  the  great  Diuoniario  delin 
Cntacih  and  he  shewed  i;pe  a  whoid 
chest  iuU  of  piBperBy  which  con* 
Udned  spoils  taken,  fior  tlnit  pm> 
pose,  from  a  multitude  of  authors 
both  ancieiit  and  nioctera.  H^ 
himself  wasi  unable  ^o  say  whenr 
this  new  e<tition  would  appeal^. 
The  prescfnt  state  of  wSkkts  in  Ita-< 
ly  is  too  imfaroitrable  to  large  and 
expeoatve  pubfibatioi^,  but  lie 
thinks  that  the  want  of  Buch  a 
work,  whic  h  is  universally  expe> 
riehced,  woidd  procure  a  consider* 
aUe  dediaad  for  it  The  Farna^to 
Xf^tH^ha^  whieb  appeiared  at  Leg^* 
bom,  twelve  years  ago,  in  fifty 
pocket  volum,e» ;  the  collection  of 
the  MfveiUeri'  Iftfikmiy  in  twenty 
ive  volume^  octavo,  and  the  nvioH&s 
of  Machiavelli,  in  ^  volun&es  octa- 
VO)  besides  many  other  \(orks  of 
aneient  Italian  authors^  yiory  elo*> 
gantly  printed  at  the  sanoie  piaee^ 
w^re  edited'  by  PoggiaU,  ane  are 
regarded  as  the  most  coftect  edir- 
tions.  Witii  respect  to-  IVJaphiar 
yellif  who  is  his  favourM^  author,- 
be  told  me,  that  he  imended  tQf 
publish  another  splendid  edition, » 
inferiour  in  no  respect  to  Didot's 
or  Bbdooi's,  and  then  he  could  die 
happy. 

Tiie  impreteion  prodtlcejl  by 
the  cathedral  of  SK*na)  togetl>er- 
with  the  BuHisterio  and  tlic  haiig^ 
in^  tower,  situated  in  a  remote 
and  solitarj^  spot,  where  you  scaix:e- 
ly  meet  a  human  creature,  is  sin^ 
gmku*  and  striking.  *  The  spectator 


invites  BmselftiiUiapdrted  into 
another  age,  or  into  a  country  of 
the  East.  The  decepticm  wafe 
heightened  by  the  unexpected 
^ight  of  a  train  of  ten  or  twelve 
ioad^^ameki  which  J^assed  just 
at  the  mdmaitt,when  we  Were  letf\B- 
ing  the  cathedral  tb  |*o  to  the  Bath 
ttstetto.  .Ab6ut  a  Jeague  fsom 
Sjfena  a  <ok)ny  of  these  animals 
has  be^n  estabUshed,  where  thef 
propagate,  anid  are  emjrfoyed  is 
^tarrying  burdc-ns.  In  the  catho* 
dralof  Siena,  among  the  multi* 
tude  of  large  ^cttii^s  which  de* 
collate  the  walls,  I  found  only  ctoe 
go6d  piece,  by  Perin  dd  VagJi  a 
in  the  rest  Are  scarcely  worth 
looking  at 

The  pnuMihg-estabBsfasnent^  of 
the  Typdgn^hvcal  Sodety  of  Pi^ 
is  a  recent)  but  appar^tly  a  stxc^ 
oessful  institution.  The  works 
printed  at  it  are  (Qstingtusfaed  by 
the  beauty  of  the  letters,  the  gbod* 
ness  of  the  pitper,  Und  the  ycorrect-' 
ness  of  the  impressiotK.  As  » 
proof  I  need  only  jnehtibn  the  new 
edition  of  Gesarotti's  Works,  of 
whieb  nine  volusn.es  were  printed 
when  J  was  at  Pisai  The  tentlf 
will  contain  the  Academick  Dis- 
courses of  the  author,  which  Were 
pever  before  published.  Rpsina, 
a  man  of  letters,  who  conducts 
this  establishQient,  gave  me  ^e 
first  sheets  of  the  volume.  The 
discoursed  , are  written  with  great 
ejoc^uence  as  well  as  elejgance/ 
Among  the  living  authors  of  Italyy 
Cesarotti  is,  without  dispute,  one 
ol*  those  wlio  possess  the  greatest 
talents  and  the  mo;5t  polished  taste. 
The  Society  hfts  announced  splen- 
did fuiio  editions  of  the  four  first 
classick  poets  of  Italy,  Dante)  Pc 
trurpa,  Ariosto,  and  Tasso.  The 
number  of  subscribers  w^s  com- 
plete, but  they  had  not  yet  com- 
menced printing.  I,  however,  saw- 
a  pi*oo&  sheet  of  Dante,  with  wh#si^ 


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180 


paxssinr  statb  cy  umATumx  a«i> 


works  th€f  be{^.  The  paper 
and  impression  were  very  beauti* 
fiili  but  the  form  appeared  rather 
too  long  in  proportion  to  the 
breadth.  The  collection  will 
form  twelve  volumes,  each  of 
which  wilt  cost  three  sequins  (about 
1/.  10#.  English,)  and  the  works 
of  each  author  will  be  accompani* 
cd  with  his  portrait,  engraved  by 
Morghen.  It  is  now  the  fashion 
to  prut  the  name  of  each  subscri* 
ber  on  the  Ititle  of  his  copy,  and 
that  method  will  be  followed  with 
this  work.  The  Society  likewise 
prints  a  literary  journal,  which 
seldom  pronounces  any  opinion 
where  it  cannot  praise,  and  mere? 
1y  inserts  a  notice  or  extracts. 
The  greatest  part  of  the  works  of 
which  it  treats  are  foreign,  and 
principally  Frenph  ;  the  literature 
of  France  being  now  exclusively 
cultivated  in  Italy.  The  native 
productions  are  so  £ew,  that  a  iour^ 
T)al,  devoted  only  to  Italian  htera-* 
ture,  could  scarcely  be  supported, 
especially  if  it  were  obliged  to  ap-i 
pear  regularly  at  stated  periods. 

•  At  Florence  I  could  not  stop 
longer  than  four  days  ;  and  what 
are  four  days  in  a  city  which,  next 
to  Rome,  contains  the  mpst  nu<^ 
merous  and  the  most  precious 
treasures  of  the  arts,  and  where 
four  months  would  scarcely  be 
sufficient  to  survey,  with  proper 
attention,  all  that  is  worthy  of  no- 
tice ?  I  immediately  relinquished 
the  idea  of  seeing  every  thing,  and 
c<mfined  myself  to  the  most  capital 
works  and  the  first-rate  artists  re- 
siding in  that  city.  The  Palazzo 
Pitti  is  now  scarcely  worth  th^ 
trouble  of  going  to  see  it.  The 
French  carried  off  between  sixty 
and  seventy  pictures,  and  among 
them  all  the  good  pieces  \t  con-r 
tained.  In  the  Gallery  I  missed 
not  a  single  article,  either  statue 
•rpictik;e,  excepting  the  Venus 


de  Medici.  The  two  statues  of 
the  family  of  Niobe  (the  second 
daughter  and  the  son,  who  lies 
dead  and  extended  on  the  groiuid,) 
together  with  other  pieces  which 
had  been  removed  to  Palermo, 
had  recently  been  brought  back, 
and,  to  my  great  joy,  I  found  them 
in  their  former  places;  The  stat* 
uary,  Santarelii,a  native  of  Rome, 
who  had  resided,  for  the  last  ten 
years,  at  Florenct,  is  one  ollkthe  a- 
blest  artists  In  his  line.  He  likewise 
imbosses  portraits  in  wax,  and  his 
success  in  taking  likenesses  pro-, 
cured  him  abundance  of  employ- 
ment during  the  war.  He  has  like- 
wise much  talent  for  mechanicks. 
At  the  house  of  Fabre,  a  pupil  of 
David*s  school,  who  obtained  some 
distinction  in  the  last  exhibition  of 
the  Academy  of  Rome,  before  the 
death  of  Ba&seville,  and  has,  since 
that  period,  constantly  resided  at 
Florence,  I  saw  an  historical  pic- 
ture, the  subject  of  which  is  taken 
from  Alfieri's  Tragedy  of  Saul, 
and  represents  a  vision  of  that 
king,  tormented  by  his  evil  con- 
science. It  would  be  difficult  to 
discover  the  subject,  without  some 
explanation  ;  but  the  artist,  in  ex, 
cusc  of  himself,  says,  that  he 
ohose  this  circumstance  at  the 
particular  desire  of  Alfieri,  who 
had  much  m^re  talent  for  the 
composition  of  a  tragedy,  than 
of  a  picture.  I  never  observed  in 
any  modem  painter  such  a  per- 
fect execution  of  all  the  parts,  such 
a  masterly  disposition  of  the  co- 
lours ;  and  in  the  mechanical  part 
of  his  profession  Fabre  is  indispun 
tably  as  accomplished  an  artist  as 
can  possibly  exist.  The  plan  and 
ground  of  the  picture,  which  com-s 
prise  a  good  deal  of  landscape,  are; 
so  exquisitely  beautiful  with  regard 
to  the  disposition,  colours,  and 
proportions,  that,  excepting  Rein^ 
hart,  I  know  no  l^dscapCTptgint^r 


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ISl 


who  could  excel  it.    The  same 
commendation  may  be  given  to  all 
the  Qtker  subordinate  parts  of  tho 
]iiece,  but  does  not    apply  to  the 
principal  object :    for  accuracy  in 
the  details,  brilliancy  in  the  colour- 
ing^, and  the  highest  degree  of  per- 
fecdon  in  the   execution,  are  not 
sufficient  to  form  a  good  dramatick 
picture  :    and   those   are    almost 
the  only   good  qualities  of   this 
piece.     The  composition  is  patch- 
tdj  the  action  theatrical,  the  ex- 
pression   overcharged,    and    the 
style  has  the  usual  faults  of  the 
French  school  ;    the  figures  are 
invariably  muscular,  the  drapery 
precisely  folded  into  a  thousand 
small  plaits,  and  the  light  thrown 
vpon  the  most  brilliant  colours,  so 
that  the  eye  has  no  repose,  except- 
ing in  the  landscape.      The  car- 
Bation  resembles  ivory,  and  the  na- 
ked parts  arc  daubed.     The  tone 
of  the  whole  is  much  too  glar- 
ing and  lively  for  a  grave  subject. 
At  the  same  artist's  I  saw  several 
£iis  portraits,  in  which   his  great 
mechanical  merit  is  ably  displayed. 
Among  these  were  the  portraits  of 
General  Clarke,  who  commands  at 
Florence,   and  of  the   Queen   of 
Etniria,  both  striking  likenesses. 
Fabre  possesses  a  beauti&l  ancient 
portrait,  which  he  attributes  to  Ra-» 
pbael,    and  six    admirable    land^ 
scapes,  two  by  Caspar,  two   by 
Poussin,  and  two  by  Annibal  Ca^ 
lacci,  which  are  all  in  the  highest 
preservation,  and  are  alone  a  sufV 
fident  inducement  to  visit  the  art- 
ist. Another  French  painter,  nam-r 
cd  Desmareas,  likewise    deserves 
the  traveller's  notice.     He  belongs 
also  to  the  French  school,  but  a 
greater  contrast  cannot  exist  thai^ 
between  him  and  Fibre,  and  it  is 
interesting  to  see  the  former  im- 
mediately after  the  latter.      Fabre 
has  neither  invendon  nor  fire  ;  his 
whole  ai:t  is  mechanical,  and  he 


aims  only  at  neatness  and  perfec- 
tion, with  which  he  charms  the 
eye  of  the  amateur.  Desmarez 
possesses  the  talent  of  invention, 
fire,  and  energy ;  he  is  partial  to 
grave,pathetick,andtragick  scenes, 
and  his  colouring  is  suitable  to  the 
gravity  of  his  subjects,  but  it  is 
rude,  inaccurate,  inharmonious 
and  rather  repuiuve  than  agreea- 
ble to  the  eye.  He  has  more  taU 
ent  than  art.  If  both  agree  in  any 
point,  it  b  in  tliat  which  they  de** 
rive  from  their  common  school ;  in 
the  theatrical  disposidon  and  over- 
charged expression  of  the  postures 
and  attitudes^n  which  consists  the 
real  essence  of  the  French  school, 
and,  .perhaps,  generally  of  the 
French  manner  of  considering  na- 
ture. Desmarez,  however,  incon- 
testably  possesses  a  genius  for 
dramadck  painting,  and  a  creative- 
ima^inadon,  of  which  Fabre  is 
destitute  ;  only  it  is  a  pity  that  he . 
has  been  spoiled  by  his  school. 
All  the  composiUons  I  saw  at  his 
house,  consisting  principally  of 
small  sketches,  painted  in  oil,  were 
of  tragick  subjects ;  for  instance, 
the  death  of  Lucretia,  the  death 
of  Virginia,  the  death  of  Cesar, 
&c.  a  dying  Cato,  as  large  as  life, 
tearing  his  bowels  out  of  his  body, 
is  a  truly  horrible  figure,  which  he 
executed  for  Lord  Bristol,  and  had 
almost  completed ;  but  as  that  ec- 
centrick  Mscenas  of  the  arts  is 
now  dead,  he  will  scarcely  find 
another  customer  for  it.  This  tlie 
ardst  himself  apprehended  when  I 
brought  him  the  unexpected  ac- 
count of  his  Lordship's  death  from 
Rome.  It  was  late  before  Desma- 
rez embraced  the  profession.  The 
revolution,  which  has  otherwise 
been  so  prejudicial  to  the  arts, 
brought  them,  in  him,  a  worthy 
pupil.  Before  the  revolution  he 
was  secretary  to  the  French  em- 
bassy at  Stockholm,  and  practised 


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ffASSEKT.tTATS  OT  firrSBjOlTRB  AITB 


•tbiftklMMra  htWa  JDcvm amuae** 
Vieot  I  but  when  he  loft  that  posty 
ka<to^p«lad  hunaelf  to  the  aft  with 
4110I1  asal  a]l4  suocesa,  that  he  baa 
wrivod  at  this  dtg^e  of  pex&ctaoa 
atk  the  aosst  difficult  of  its  branches. 
He  ia  aalU  ia  the  prune  of  lifet 
aothal  probafaiy  bis  talents  mmf 
Dot  yet  be  completeiy  develo^d. 
lieliveacnftirelfHibts  aiily  has  a 
ciiltimtedt  mdettandio^y  gravky  of 
.oharaotefyand  yet  great  vhiacity  in* 
oooveffsatiofi.  I  ahouid  rather  have 
takei^  tbisartist  for  aa  Italnn  tban^ 
a  FrencJifnaw,  and  to  me  bis  ac- 
yiatntaan^  was  eaitremely  intev- 
«linga  You  nay  be  sore  I  did 
^oioottt  to /visit  our  worthy  ooun-^ 
tvyiDaft^DoaFi^i{^)o<Hackert.  He 
4aQs- not  indeed  raside  bere^  as  he 
did^at  N^^los^in  a  royal  mansion, 
Iwt  he;  has  handaome  and  spaoious 
afiartinoota  in  a^  pakce  ;.  and  the 
great?  numbor  of  his  works,  some 
jttat^eguo,  others  half  finished  or 
ciflBfdeted^  proves  him,  notwitb- 
fltondiny  Hs^iacreasmg  agt^^to  be 
0ie  same  active  and  in^strious 
artis*  that  be  has  been  aA  his^  life. 
Thnoui^fa  the  immense  muhittide 
of  I»ece8i  whkb  he  has  contiauatly 
ifkhand,  hisart  has  at  length  be^ 
Gome-purely  aaechanical.  Htick- 
oil  composes  lintle  ;  he  has  enjoy- 
ed the  felicity  of  residing  the  bttst 
part  of  his  life  in  a  country, where* 
nature  is.  so  h^hly  picttiiresque 
that  the  artist  may  produce  a  fine 
picture  by  only  copying  the  views, 
aad  filling  up.the  fore-^roond,  not 
so  miKzh  from  his  own  invention 
as  from  studies  after  nature*  Of 
this  description  are  most  of  Hack- 
ert'a  pieces.  To  the  poetry  of  the 
art  he  never  attained.  His  land- 
saapes  arepoetick  only  in  the  same 
degree  aanatui^,  which  he  copied, 
po68essed«|>oetick character.  His 
distances  are  in  general  fine,  and 
have  the  genuine  tone  of  an  Ital- 
ian ciim»|e^    Almost  all  his  mid- 


dle cproMnds  are  Aow  of  a  imifbili 
bright  greent  and  his  fort-grounds 
of  a  pale  blmah  gfeen  tolout*, 
wbidi  not  rarely  destroys  the  haiw 
mony  .of  the  back-grounds.  The 
fignrer  commonly  introduced  into 
htt  pictures  are  the  shepherds* 
shepherdesses,  herdsmen,  and 
cattle  of  those  countries  where  be 
found  his  origimd^  ;  but  the  ladies 
and  gentlemen,  with  whom  he  was 
£re^ently  obliged  to  decorate  the 
landscapes  which  he  i>aiBted  at 
Naples  for  the  kii^g,  are  intdersii 
ble^  Hackert  was  just  employed 
^pon  three  landscapes,  destined 
for  Wdmer,  ail  of  whkh  werp 
about  half  finish^.  It  Was  the 
latter  end  of  July  ^hm  I  saw  him,, 
and  yet  he  asfiured  me  that  alir 
thner  wookt  l;>e  sent  off  to  Weimcr 
in  September.  Two  jt>f  tbesn,  ar 
View  near  Rome  from  |thc  Vilhi 
Madama,  over  Pont  Molle^  of  the( 
Sabine  Mountains,  illuminated  by^ 
the  setting  Sun  ;  and  andtlier  c^ 
Hcaole  and  the  Vale  of  Amcv 
near  Florence,  are  for  the  Duke' 
of  Weinier,  and  the  third  for  aa^ 
Englisb  gentleman  residhi^in  that 
town.  Of  the  other  numerous* 
paintings  of  this  artist,  whieh  I 
saw,  I  shall  say  nothing.  A  per*- 
son  can  scarcely  look  at  all  Uax^k.- 
ert's  painting  in  two  Hours  ;  they" 
fin  two  spaaous  r<'<^^  <^^  forpi 
a  small  gallery.  The  spectator 
would  be  induced  to  believe,  that 
they  are  the  productions  ef  severw 
al  persons,  though  they  arc  the 
labour  of  hb  hands  alone.  I  can-* 
not,  however,  deny,  that  Hackert's 
whole  sysu^m  has  something  of 
the  air  of  a  manufactory. 

I  should  like  to  say  a  few  word^ 
concerning  the  master-pieces  of 
modem  spulpture,  the  statues  of 
Michael  Angelo  Buonarotti,  in  th« 
Capella  del  Deposit!,  the  architect 
tecture  of  which  is  the  work  of  the 
same  artist.    But  when  a  perspti^ 


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il  is  ^xacdf  tUs  wUkh  mmB(i%  tm 
au^paeat  th«  acfaniratioiiof  tb«M 
"WOrk^  :  you  admive  thoir  mafpi^ 
tu<i%  tbclr  orig^naJ^ciiaractejr ;  bv^ 
you  93t%  a8lQBi&h«d  ;a^«he  gigaoticl^ 
mind  wkkh  could  creau  auch% 
worid.  No  artist  has  dasfilaydl^ 
himsetf  m  his  works  with  such 
trutht  such  strength,  and  such  uni- 
foroiity,  a»  Miehaal  Aagislo.  Ho 
^Yory  where  appears  tho  sauo,  but 
<ixUy  at  different  naomeius  and  po«r 
nods  of  his  Ufe.  Thus^ibr  ezaai^ 
pkfl  in  the  cielin^  of  ScxUia'« 
cha^iel)  ho  nppeai»>Bi  the  flower  o^ 
hiff  g^iius  ;  «vtbe  Last  J:wdgiaciir 
be^  a  vig^rooa  okk  sniiv  futt  o£ 
profouadexpetieneo  and  maturat 
energy^ ;.  but:  the  bkM8oi»  of  hi^ 
gjenius  hasc  faded)  and  yoUr  nay 
perceive  tha;k  hiS'  ait  gfowsr  oUV 
with  himv  Lasti)s  is  has  two  pi&i* 
tur^  m  the  Pauline  chapel>  w» 
viaw  hftos,  together  wUh  Yoa  aity  ia 
tho  woalBiese  and  decrepitude  oC 
hoary^  ago»  But  while  I  ant  8p«ok>* 
ingi  of  the.  artiat^  I  vua  the  risk  06 
forgetting  has  works.^  I  iateaded 
t0  say  aoraething  coacemiBg;  ther 
Four  Perieda  of  the  Day^  andhi» 
figure  of:  Gdu]iao0de  Medici  (who, 
in  the  Hioraing  of  Ule,  was^  phiag-* 
ed  iaio)  the  gloomy  empioe  o£ 
death,)  which,  for^the  Uvxng.«nd 
speaking  expn'essKm'ie  the  poiii^ 
tidQ  and  attitude)  ia^  inkpitahle^ 
Qn  the  earoGfihagus  at  his  feet,  lie 
tbertwQ  e^^iqiiLiitt,  figures,  Aurora^ 
and  I  Cropnaculo.  The  fermer. 
shews  that.  Michael-  Angelo  waa 
aensiUe  to.  female  beauty,  and 
knew  perfectly  well  how  to  ex- 
press k  ;  but  beauty  of  a  su- 
blQnti  of  a  grare  character:  Tfte, 
cbarming;  fine  of  Aurem  ia  ani-^ 
neated  l^  fUkexpceesien^of.'  md** 
ifturhoty,  which  imparts  to  it  a; 
moving  interest.  The  body  and 
limbs  of  this  figure  are  exquisitely 
formed  and  disposed.  In  the 
bosom,  howefer,  Michael  Angelo's 


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\u 


PElKSBirr  STATt  e»  l.rtBll*ttJMl,  8cc.  IN  ITALt. 


idea  of  female  bcautf  docs  not  ap^ 
pear  founded  on  the  most  perfect 
model ;  for  in  this  figure,  as  well 
as  in  that  of  Nighi,  the  bosom  is 
faulty  ;  the  two  hemispheres  are 
placed  at  too  great  a  distanCei  and 
their  form  is  not  handsome.  But 
so  much  the  more  bold,  powerful, 
and  masculine  is  the  broad  chest 
of  Crepusculo,  who,  as  well  as  Day, 
is  throughout  of  a  f^gantick,  co- 
lossal nature,  cnergetick,  and  won- 
derful, such  as  Michael  Angdo 
alone  knew  how  to  create.  I  can- 
not say  much  in  commendation  of 
Night,  though  muck  celebrated  by 
poets.  Considered  impartially, 
she  Is  a  huge  caricature  on  woman, 
presenting  disagreeable  forms  snd 
striking  disproportions,  whether 
you  examine  her  unnaturally  long, 
flat  body,  (Usfigured  whh  folds  and 
wrinkles ;  or  the  leg,  which  is 
inuch  too  long  for  the  thigh  ;  or 
the  ugly  bosom,  ot  the  ungraceful 
position  ;  in  which  last  quality  5he 
is  rivalled  by  Day,  her  companbn 
on  the  tame  sarcophagus.  Night 
has  been  praised  because  her  sleep 
is  so  perfectly  natural ;  the  ex- 
pression of  tlie  tiace  is  certainly  a 
true  representation  of  a  person  in 
sound  sleep  ;  but  who  sleeps  in 
such  a  constndned  posture  ?*  Next 
to  the  original  magnitude  of  these 
figures,  the  manner  in  which  they 
are  executed  demands  the  admira- 
tion of  the  conncnsseur,  and  the 
study  of  the  artist.  The  figures 
are  not  quite  finished  in  many 
partS)  and   still  cleave  here  and 


•  That  tboe  four  figvret  ate  intended  to  rep- 
resent the  four  timet  of  the  day,...Dajr  and 
Miehr,  Anrora  and  'rwUlcht,...we  are  ihiormed 
oiuy  by  tradieion }  and  It  should  be  observed, 
that,  with  Ihe  ejcception  of  Night,  who  b  asleep. 
none  of  the  figures  luve  any  charactcristick  te 
ctoflnii  inch  •  mppottttoa. 


there  to  the  rude  block  of  marble 
which  serves  for  their  basis  ;  but 
where  they  are  finished,  the  chisel 
has  been  employed  with  wonderful 
ability.  Michael  Angelo  knew  not 
how  to  paint  ih  marble  likeCanova, 
but  how  to  sketch  and  to  model 
with  the  chisel.  All  the  parts  on 
which  the  light  falls,  and  which 
are  exposed  to  the  view,  are  finish- 
ed in  the  highest  degree,  almost 
to  a  polish  ;  on  the  contrary,  in 
those  which  recede  into  the  shade, 
or  are  otherwise  withdrawn  from 
the  view,  the  chbel  is  perceived 
%vithout  any  farther  polbh«  No 
neglect  appears  in  the  form,  which 
is  every  where  equally  perfect  and 
complete,  but  merely  in  the  puts 
which  are  concealed  ;  thb  negli- 
gence however,  ovinces  the  genius 
of  a  master.  This  liberty  taken 
by  Michael  Angelo  with  the  ine- 
characal  portion  of  his  art,  this 
evident  OMitempt  for  everything 
superfluous  (for  whatever  is  not 
essential,  and  at  most- can  only 
please  the  eye)  gives  to  his  execu- 
tion (hat  solemn  grandeur  and 
boldness,  that  lofty  and  haughty 
character,  which  are  peculiar  to 
his  productions.  But  I  must  part 
from  you,  ye  sublime  creations  of 
the  sublimest  genius,  who  sheds 
a  lustre  upon  the  age  of  modem 
art ;  I  must  leave  the  sanctuary 
which  incloses  you,  perhaps  for 
ever.  Adieu,  ye  noble  forms  I 
never  may  the  rude  hands  of  bar- 
barians drag  you  from  your  native 
home  !  And  thou  sublime,  divine 
genius  !  drop  a  spark  of  thy  fiery 
spirit  into  our  enervated  art,  and 
inspire  it  anew  with  more  solemn, 
more  grand,  aad  more  manly  con- 
ceptions. 

To  be  continued. 


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tMs  KtUkuktlk* 


idi 


I'OR    THE  AJ^THOLOGY, 

REMARKER. 
^hannl«M  milth  and  salutary  wo.  JoHNiotr. 


m.  8* 


It  b  the  opinioD  of  some  per- 
sons by  no  means  deficient  in  good 
sense  and  respectability,  that  the- 
atrical representations  are  injuri- 
ous to  the  morals  of  a  people.  Im- 
prest with  this  conviction  they  op- 
posed the  establishment  of  a  thea- 
tre in  this  town^  and  now,  in  many 
instances,  abstain  from  attending  it. 

Prejudices  of  this  nature  arise 
from  a  narrow  education  and  ig- 
norance of  the  world  ;  since  no 
civilized  people  ever  existedj  a- 
xnong  whom  the  dramatick  muse 
was  not  a  distinguished  favourite^ 
whose  smiles  have  been  codrted, 
and  whose  labours  have  been  ap* 
plauded  by  the  best  and  wisest 
men  of  all  nations. 

It  would  be  superfluous  to  recur 
to  the  sages  of  antiquity,  and  in- 
form the  reader,  that  Socrates  and 
Cicero  were  in  the  habit  of  attend-* 
ing  theatrical  exhibitions,  the  lat- 
ter of  whom  Was  bound  by  the 
closest  ties  of  intimacy  and  affec- 
tion to  the  eelebriated  Roscius.  It 
might  plausibly  be  objected,  that 
these  men,  though  virtuous  and 
wise,  were  yet  pagans,  and  conse- 
quently not  obliged  to  lead  the 
strict  exemplary  life  which  chris-f 
tianity  requires.  It  ill  becomes 
those,  who  have  embraced  the  gos- 
pel, to  encourage  by  their  pres- 
ence the  idle  amusements  of  a 
wicked  world,  and  to  sit  listening 
for  hours  together,  amidst  a  pro- 
miscuous crowd,  to  the  studied  hu- 
mours and  fictitious  distresses  of 
buffoons  and  mimicks.  But  if  it 
can  be  shown,  that  the  great 
teachers  of  christian  morality,  and 
defenders  of  christian  doctrines^ 

Vol.  m.  No.  4.     Z 


have  not  only  attended,  but  vmtteh 
plajrs,  it  will  follow,  that  theatres 
are  by  no  means  so  dangerous  as 
bigotry  and  ignorance  apprehend. 
Addison,  Young,  and  Johnson 
Were  tiot  mch,  who  would  know- 
ingly have  encouraged  immoral- 
ity, or  have  lessened  the  influence 
of  religion. 

The  first  of  these  writers  wrot<i 
in  defence  of  revelation,  and  was 
not  less  distinguished  by  his  piety 
than  his  literature.  6ince  the  in- 
vention of  letters,  tio  mortal  authoi* 
ever  produced  so  wonderful  an  efJ 
feet  on  the  morals  and  manners 
of  society.  He  brought  philoso- 
phy from  the  libraries  of  the  learn- 
ed, and  introduced  hct*  at  tlie 
toilettes  of  ladies.  During  the 
publication  of  the  Spectator,  na- 
tional improvement  became  visible, 
conversation  took  a  more  inter- 
esting and  edifying  turn,  dulness 
ahd  iifipeHinence  fled  before  the 
mighty  magician^  and  even  infidel** 
lly  lost  a  portion  of  her  audacity, 
and  grew  more  modest  and  unas-^ 
sUmiog.  Now  thk  great  sage  not 
only  attended  plays,  but  in  the 
immortal  work  alluded  to,  which 
was  expressly  written  (or  the  reli- 
gious and  moral  improvement  of 
a  nation,  frequently  discusses  the- 
atrical subjects,  and  passes  nume- 
rous encomiums  on  his  contem- 
porary dramatists-  Nay,  he  wrote 
plays  himself,  and  his  tragedy  of 
Cttto,  whilst  it  increased  his  repu- 
tation as  a  writer,  in  no  respect 
diminished  his  authority  as  a  moral 
and  religious  instructor. 

Dr.  Young  was  distinguished 
by  a  reli^ous  sensibility,  wiacli 


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ISO 


rAz  REM^AnrkB. 


bwdcred  on  cnthuahoitv.  Yet 
chnitkiiv  and  clergyman  as  he 
was,  he  thought  it  neltlier  incon- 
sistent with  his  profession,  nor 
derog,*tory  from  his  dig^nily,  to 
write  plays.  His  Uevengc,  one 
of  the  noblest  productions  in  our 
l^inguage,  will  reuitiin  au  ever- 
lastuig  monument  of  hi»  genius, 
and  will  be  read  and  acted  as  long 
as  that  lajiguage  shall  Ui  uiider- 
stood. 

If  any  iian  of  the  last  century 
stands,  eminently  high  in  his  re 
%ious>  HKiraJ,  and  literary  char- 
acter, that  man  is  Dr.  Samuel 
J^ihnsoa.  This  great  moralist, 
notv.'Ithstanding  the  strictness  of 
his  principles,  was^  fond  of  the 
tframa,  and  was  the  intimate  friend 
•f  David  Garrick.  He  would 
probably  have  writLen  many  plays, 
bad  hi<i  Irene  succeeded,  but  on 
t\\i:  \\\  success  of  this  piece  turned 
his  attcnilon  to  other  departim:nt&. 
of  iitci'ature. 

Let  none  thcrefoi'e,  who  do  not 
surpass  the  moral  and  religious 


worth  of  i^ldison,  Yotrag<  ani 
Johnson,  mveigh  agidnst  the  ini" 
moral  tendency  of  dramatick  ex-- 
hibkions.  The  charge  is  not  true 
at  the  present  day,  and  were  Jere^ 
my  CoiUer  to  rise  from  the  grave, 
he  might  justly  ridicule  the  insip- 
idity, bi^t  could  pot  truly  arraign 
tilt;  morality  of  th^  modem  draim^ 
Unfounded  censures  of  this  nature 
ought  to  be  confined  to  the  monks 
of  the  cli^ibter,  or  the  fanaticks  of 
the  tabernacle-  As  Johnson  exr 
presses  it  in  my  motto,  *  harmless 
mi4'th  and  salutary  wo'  are  at  pres- 
ent the  mnocent  offspring  of  the 
theatre,  and  I  have  sometimes  ex- 
IK'riencedas  much  ediiBcation  from 
a  good  play  as  from  a  good  ser- 
mon. But  sh9uld  the  play  chance 
to  be  some  modem  novelty,  of  no 
intrinsick  worth,  yet  still  I  can  de- 
rive  much  amusement  fit)m  the 
talents  of  the  mere  distinguished 
performers,  the  broad  farce  of 
Twaits,  the  chaster  humour  of 
Bernai'd,  and  the  buskined  dignKy 
and- electrifying  enei;gy  of  Cooper*^ 


THE   SLAVE    OF    DISCONTENT. 


'nanUAted  for  the  AntMiogf  from  La  Dect^b 


We-  sometimes  meet  in  the 
world  those  pleasant  originals, 
whose  part  here  below  seems  in- 
tended to  serve  only  for  the  amuse- 
ment and  instruction  of  thdr  fellow 
creatures.  I  have  jugt  made  an 
slcquaintance  with  a  being  of  this 
nature.  His  history  might  fill 
volumes  ;  but  as  I  have  neither 
the  time  nor  inclination  to  write,  t 
shall  content  myself  M'ith  offerihgp 
only  a  slight  sketch  of  his  charac- 
ter. 

Giacomo  Delia  Rocca  was  bom 
in  Italy  on  the  banks  of  the  Tiber, 
and  not  £ar  distant  from  the  most 


celebrated  city  in  the  universe.^ 
He  was  most  uncommonly  prone 
to  be  dissatisfied  with  every  thiug 
aroimd  him .  At  the  age  of  twentf 
he  made  an  examination  of  every 
different  government,  without  be-^ 
ing  able  to  discover  one  to  which 
he  could  accommodate  himself. 
This  throne  was  fbunded  on  the 
ruins  of  liberty,  that  was  tottering 
to  its  fall  ;.  on  a  third  was  seated  8^ 
vicious  prince  r  in  another  mo- 
narehyr  there  were  too  many  wise 
institutions ;  farther  on,cvery  thing 
seemed  to  him  in  disorder.  In 
oUe  republick  mdies  only  vftst  cs^ 


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THE  3LAn  or  DiSCOirrEIfT. 


isr 


teemed  ;  In  another  all  was  dis- 
simuladon  ;  this  was  composed 
only  of  speculators  ;  that  of  proud 
supercilious  nobles  :  and  as  to  all 
the  others  it  was  difficult  to  deter- 
mine what  tJiey  were.  Though 
he  had  a  clviice,  and  thoi^h  the 
forms  of  government  were  very 
Tarious,  yet  S.  Delia  Rocca,  from 
these  circu^nstances,•^ras  not  more 
happy.  Sole  heir  of  an  immense 
fbrtuDe,  he  was  highly  caressed 
by  his  parents,  wbo,observing  with 
anxiety  the  gloomy  and  discontent- 
ed characterof  their  son,  proposed 
that  he  should  trareL 

But  alas  here  \vas  another  eno*- 
Jbarrassment  i  what  climate  could 
find  attractions  for  him  who  was 
hOTti  under  the  mild  skies  «f  Italy, 
in  the  bosom  of  tliat  country,  the 
nursery  of  the  arts,  on  tliat  fertile, 
favoured  soil  !  He  might  indeed 
seek  for  other  men  in  order  to  com- 
pare them  with  his  fellow  countiy- 
mcity  to  gain  experience  and  know- 
ledg^e  of  human  aature  ;  but  to 
seek  a  country  more  blessed  by 
the  orb  of  day,  more  caressed  by 
nature  !  . .  . .  this  would  be  mad- 
ness. No  matter  ;'it  is  the  wish 
of  S.  Delia  Rocca  to  travel  :  it  is 
indeed  the  only  means  of  diverting 
his  mind.  His  parents  agree  to  it^ 
and  consent  to  the  departure  of 
their  son. 

To  what  country  shall  he  go  ? 
This  is  not  easy  to  dedde  upo». 
To  England?  There  the  weather 
is  too  cold,  the  atmosphere  is  thick* 
cned  with  fog  ;  there  they  bum 
coal  ;  the  people  are  so  independ- 
ent, that  they  can  insult  you  with 
impunity  ;  in  that  country  they 
live  on  fiesh  ;  a  most  horrible  re- 
past for  S.  Delia  Rocca*  No,  we 
will  not  go  to  flngland. 

Shall  we  to  the  North  ?  Then 
we  should  perish  with  cold.  I  will 
not  hear  of  Scandinavia.  Prussia 
Sfi  too  military.    In  Germany  there 


is  too  much  ceremony.  The  ice  of 
theNonhi;.  melancholy  and  danpcr- 
ons.  The  Heh  eliiai  is  not  jHjlished 
cnoui'h,  Batana  is  a  low.nmrshy 
coaintry.  The  lar  of  Briibant  is 
damp,  thick,  and  unhealthy.  In 
Turkey  the  women  are  condemned 
to  seclusion,  or  only  permitted  to 
appear  veiled.  Poland  is  a  flat,uni^ 
form  country,  ^nd  S.  Delia  f^occa 
loves  variety.  All  that  might  have 
determined  him  for  this  lastcountry 
is,  that  his  mother  possessed  a  great 
estate  there.  But  interest  was  not 
his  inducement  for  travelling,  and 
in  this  respect  all  countries  were 
indifferent  to  Iiim.  Assailed  by  a 
thousand  desires,  he  sees  only  a 
tiresome  iinifonnlty  in  the  happi- 
ness he  enjoyed  :  a  mild,  temper 
j*ate  cfimate  was  necessary  to  Gia- 
como,  where  there  was  a  variety 
of  seasons  ;  a  land  inhabited  by  a<* 
miable,  lively,  graceful,  sensible 
women,  and  by  men  of  an  affabili- 
ty of  mRnncrs,  whose  occupations 
were  varied,  and  to  whom  the  ennui 

of  life  was  unknown Behold 

then  S.  Delia  Rocca  in  the  road  to 
Paris. 

HowjBvcr  teeming  with  pleasures 
is  this  theatre  of  wonders,  it  is  yet 
incompetent  to  fulfil  the  wishes 
of  a  madman,  %vhose  misfortune  is 
an  eternal  desire  of  novelty.  The 
women  were  not  such  as  his  iroa« 
gination  had  painted  them  :  there 
was  to  much  assurance  in  their 
air  ;  no  modesty  bowed  down  their 
heads  ;  they  possessed  the  talent 
of  smiling,without  the  inclination  ; 
of  being  absent  from  design  ;  of 
lookeig  upon  one  object  without 
perceiving  it,  only  to  contemplate 
another  to  which  their  eyes  were 
not  apparently  directed ;  of  listen- 
ing,without  hearing ;  of  welcoming 
with  kindness  thoae^for  whom  they 
fck  only  disgust ;  one  held  negU* 
gently  to  her  eye  an  opera  glass, 
for  which  she  had  no  need  ;  an- 


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las 


THE  SLAVE  OF   DISCONTENT. 


Other  supported  the  gaze  of  the 
beholder  with  an  air  of  ignorance 
that  she  was  the  object  of  con* 
tcmplalion,  and,  in  order  to  shew 
a  delicate  hand,  knew  how  to  re*- 
move  a  lock  of  hair  which  in  no 
way  incommoded  her ;  in  short, 
thp  eyes  of  this  one  would  have  ap- 
peared entirely  lifeless, without  the 
fire  of  voluptuousness,  or  the 
lightning  of  envjr  ;  and  the  red 
and  white  had  replaced  on  her 
complexion  the  roses  and  lilies. 
He  did  not  tell  me  under  what  as- 
pect he  beheld  the  men,  or  what  he 
thought  of  tliem  ;  all  that  I  know 
is,  that  he  soon  embarked  for 
America, 

The  war  had  just  ceased,  and 
the  new  world  oftercd  to  tlie  old 
m  form  of  government  which  pos- 
sibly might  satisfy  S.  Delia  Rocca. 
But  he  carried  also  into  this  coun- 
try his  melanchply  character.— « 
Life  appeaned  to  him  only  a  mo^ 
ment,  tediously  prolonged  ;  the 
air  was  always  too  thick  or  too 
sharp ;  the  foliage  had  not  variety 
enough  of  shades  ;  the  morning 
was  scarcely  different  from  the 
evening,  and  one  day  constantly 
resembled  another.  Be8ides,they 
might  have^  formed  inuch  better 
laws  at  Philadelphia ;  the  people 
had  not  sufficiently  profited  by 
their  lessons  of  experience  ;  they 
ought  to  have  better  consulted  the 
manners  and  relations  of  the  state. 
As  to  the  country,  it  was  in  vain 
that  the  striking  beauties  of  an 
immense  view,  varied  by  the  lux-, 
tiiiant  hand  of  nature,  offered 
themselves  to  his  eye.  It  was  not 
for  him  that  bloqmed  the  enamel 
of  the  meadows,  that  the  birds 
warbled  their  songs  of  melody,  that 
the  flowers  exhaled  their  perfumes, 
or  the  rivulets  meandered  through 
verdant  plains. 

I  shall  not  follow  our  discontent- 
pd  fiicud  through  all  his  travels, 


and  the  reader  will  permit  me  to 
leave  him  to  pay  a  viat,  alone,  to 
the  East  and  West  Indies,  and  to 
Africa,  that  he  might  there  disap. 
prove  of  whatever  was  done,  blame 
all  customs,  all  institutions,  find* 
ing  that  the  man  of  nature  was  too 
savage,  and  that  civilized  people 
were  too  far  removed  from  nature. 

After  aP  absence  of  ten  years, 
he  returned  to  Europe  ;  and  ar- 
rived just  at  that  period,  when  the 
division  of  Poland  took  place,  three 
portions  of  which  had  been  made 
without  its  consent.  The  esUtes 
of  our  travel ler*s  mother,  situated 
in  a  palatinate  of  the  centre, 
were  divided  into  three  lots,  and 
each  of  them  confiscated  ;  one  by 
the  empress  of  Russia,  who  was 
not  enriched  by  it ;  another  by  the 
king  of  the  Romans,  who  had  no 
expectation  of  advantage  from  it ; 
and  the  third  by  the  king  of  Prus- 
sia, who  rendered  justice  only  to 
his  ancient  subjects.  Here  cer- 
tainly was  sufficient  to  ofiend  a  far 
moi*e  gentle  disposition  than  that 
of  S.  Delia  Rocca.  But,  by  ^  ><>" 
conceivable  contradiction,  he  was 
only  moderately  affected  by  it, 
and  as  he  saw  nothing  more  than 
an  abuse  of  the  generality  of  in- 
stitutions, and  being  most  singu- 
larly whimsical,  he  consoled  him- 
self by  arguments  that  would  have 
discouraged  any  ptlier  being  but 
himselfi  '^  Had  I  to  contend  with 
but  ouc  crowned  head,"  said  he  to 
himsel£^  '^  I  would  hazard  a  few 
remonstrances  ;  but  to  complain 
to  three  different  princes,  one  of 
whom  might  send  roe  into  Sibe-^ 
ria,  another  imprison  me,  and 
the  third  make  me  a  proposition 
to  enter  his  army....I  find  that 
either  of  these  rewards  is  not 
worth  the  trouble  that  I  should 
give  myself  in  obtaining  them.'*— 
Therefore  he  remained  quiet. 

This  diminution  of  his  (ortuoe> 


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THB   SLAVE   OF   BISCONTENT. 


183 


teemed  to  render  hira  more  rea- 
sonable. What  was  the  cause  of 
his  reconciliation  with  mankind 
would  have  been  for  others  a  mo- 
tive for  renouncing  all  connexion 
with  them.  But  he  learns  that 
the  most  powerful  nation  of  the 
world  has  suddenly  changed  its 
govemment,and  is  desirous  of  giv- 
ing itself  new  laws.  Here  is  a 
fine  opportunity  for  a  visionary 
reformer  of  constitutions,  in  whose 
eyes  all  are  bad  or  imperfect  ! 
S.  DelU  Rocca  suffers  it  not  to 
escape,  and  behold  liim  anew  irt 
the  capital  of  this  regenerated  peo- 
ple. He  mingles  among  schem- 
ers, he  examines,  he  approves^  he 
comments,  he  adopts.  But  the 
work,  in  which  he  has  been  assist- 
ipg,  is  soon  replaced  by  some 
other.  His  labour  commences 
anew  :  and  this  project  has  the 
late  of  the  first ;  that  is  to  say,  it 
i^  adopted}  overthrowni  and  re- 
placed. 

Whilst  he  mmgled  in  what  did 
not  concern  him,  those  things 
which  ought  to  have  occupied  bim 
were  disposed  of  without  his 
knowledge.  To  be  brief,  his  large 
fortune  is  annihilated.  The  blow 
had  been  felt  as  far  as  his  native 
country,  and  his  estates  no  longer 
belonged  to  him  in  consequence  of 
a  measure,about  which  it  had  been 
forgotten  to  ask  his  advice. 

The  resuh  of  this  event  was 
very  happy,becau8e  it  obliged  him 
to  call  into  exercise  his  resources 
and  his  talents  to  gain  a  subsist- 
ence. He  soon  contracted  the 
habit  of  era  ploy  inent,  and  this  habr 
It  dissipated  the  ennui,  which  till 
then  had  overwhelmed  him.  Every 
moment  being  occupied,  there  re- 
Tmav>ed  no  time  for  him  to  blanje, 
or,  like  too  many  other  idlers,  to 
regulate  the  state. 

Having  followed  all  the  periods 
of  tl^c  revolution  of  the  country 


that  he  inhabited,  he  had  remark- 
ed that  he  had  in  no  one  of  them 
discovered  a  single  being  content-) 
ed  with  himself  or  with  those 
around  him.  At  first  loud  excla-< 
mations  wrre  uttered ;  then,frozen 
by  terror,  all  where  hushed  to  sin 
lence,  and  driven  to  concealment  ^ 
was  there  a  change,  they  inveighed 
against  it  ;  was  it  followed  by 
another,  they  complained.  At 
length  order  appeared  on  firm 
foundations,  property  was  secured 
and  respected,  the  adversa^;y  was^ 
deprived  of  the  means  of  injuringi^ 
the  inclination  only  remained  to 
him.  The  fugitives  were  recalled^ 
and  the  honest  man  retired  to 
his  evening's  rest,  without  being 
tormented  by  the  recollection  o^ 
the  past,  or  fear  of  the  future. 
Very  happily  for  S.  Delia  Rocca,^ 
and  without  doubt  for  the  people 
in  the  bosom  of  whom  he  livedo 
this  new  order  of  things  coincide^ 
with  his  ideas.  But  what  was 
his  astonishment  at  the  sight  of 
these  men,  who  had  ardently  de- 
sired the  reestablish ment  of  order^ 
and  of  those,  to  whom  it  restored; 
tranquility  I  Some  shook  their 
heads,  others  shrugged  their, 
slioulders,  a  third  appeared  to  sup^ 
press  something  even  while  he 
approved,  a  fourth  spoke  n;»yst^eri- 
ously,  and  without  explanation. 

Impatient  of  these  ifii  and  these 
andfy  S.  Delia  Rocca,  having 
become  a  man  of  gallantry  since  ho, 
had  inhabited  a  couptry  famed  for 
the  reign  of  the  fair  sex,  cultin. 
v^ted  the  society  of  the  la-, 
dies.  It  was  quite  another  thing  !^ 
The  old  foupd  not  the  French  o( 
the  present d^y  sufficiently  gallant;, 
the  young  complained  of  the  re-v. 
forms  that  were  wished  to  be  in-v^ 
troduced  among  some  very  agrees-^ 
ble  customs,  that  had  come  into, 
vogue  within  the  last  seven  oj^. 
eight  years. 


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190 


CRAmXCTZR  or   9.  J.  ROUSSI^AtJ. 


S.  Delia  Rocta  finish^  bj  con« 
eluding;,  both  from  hia  experience 
mnd  observations,  that  man  was  an 
animal  very  difficult  to  please  ; 
who,  in  the  midst  of  real  bless^ 
ings,  was  always  occupied  about 
some  imaginary  good.  Giaco- 
faoj  judging  hy  the  spectacle  be- 


fore him  how  ridiculous  he  must 
himself  have  appeared  at  the  tim* 
he  was  so  continually  censuring 
every  thing  around  him,  corrected 
himself  of  his  follies  ;  and  thus 
the  discontent  of  others  has  effec* 
tually  cured  his  own. 

J.   D.   MUSSET-PATItAr* 


CHAftACTER  OF  ROUSSEAU. 


RorisE  AtJ  has  been  too  often  ex^- 
tolled  as  a  philanthropist.  Mr. 
Burke  said  of  him,  that  he  loved 
his  kind  and  hated  his  kindi-ed. 
The  exposure  of  his  children,  by 
whatever  sophistry  It  may  be  ex- 
cused, is  an  indelible  blot  on  his 
humanity  ;  and  in\'alidates  all  his 
pretensions  to  philanthropy.  For, 
can  that  philanthropy  be  genuine, 
which  is  founded  on  the  extinction 
of  the  parental  affections  ;  and 
which,xvith  more  than  savage  bru- 
tality, forsakes  the  poor  innocents 
it  brings  into  the  vorld  ? 

Every  page  of  Rousseau  glows 
with  the  captivations  of  that  senti- 
mental luxury,  of  which  he  is  so 
great  a  roaster  ;  and  which  he  ar- 
rays in  all  the  blandishments  of 
eloquence.  Hence  the  source  of 
that  admiration,  which  his  writings 
have  so  universally  excited.— 
Though  his  judgment,  as  a  philo^ 
a'ophcr,  was  not  profound  ;  yet 
his  tase  was  so  exquisite,  that  he 
strews  flowtfrs  in  the  most  rugged 
way,  and  interests  the  passions 
iand  the  fancy,  in  the  investigation 
of  the  most  abstract  propositions. 
This  is  his  great  excellence. 

In  his  new  Eloise,  the  interest 
consists,  not  so  much  in  the  diverr 
sity  or  the  combination  of  the  in- 
cidents, as  in  the  beauty  of  the 
sentiment,  and  the  magick  of  the 
diction.  The  picture  of  JuUa  is 
highly  finished  ;  but  it  leaves  on 
the  mind  more  impressions  of  re^ 


From  Fdlowtt<^  CItfiftUo  I>ai!o(b|ibf. 

spectthan  of  tenderness,  of  admir* 
ation  than  of  love — At  times  she 
appears  an  heterogeneous  mixture 
of  apathy  and  passion,  of  prudence 
and  of  coquetry.  In  some  situa* 
tions  she  wants  tenderness,  in 
others  firmness ;  and  she  is  often 
less  governed  by  the  Warm  im- 
pulses of  affection,  than  by  the 
abstractions  of  philosophy. 

His  Emilius,  though  marked  by 
the  illuminating  touches  and  the 
oiiginal  conceptions  of  genius,  yet, 
considered  as  a  system,  is  more 
conspicuous  foritssingulaiity  than 
its  truth.  It  pourtrays  a  system 
of  education,  which,  if  it  were  uni- 
versally adopted,  would  keep  the 
human  species  in  a  state  of  per- 
manency between  light  and  dark- 
ness, between  savage  baibarity  and 
civilized  refinement.  It  would 
counteract  the  moral  and  physical 
improvement  of  man,  the  pro- 
gress of  knowledge,  and  the  p»ro« 
ductiveness  of  industry. 

Though  Rousseau  had  little  be- 
neficence, yet  his  writings,  breath* 
ing  nothing  but  the  reciprocal  love 
and  kindness  and  confidence  of  the 
Golden  Age,  contributed,  by  their 
wide  diffu^on  and  their  enchanting 
ekx)uence,to  render  humanity  fath-  - 
ionable  ;  and  they  have,  at  least, 
this  meritf-^that  no  man  can  well 
Hse  from  reading  them,  without  * 
feeling  a  higher  respect  for  his 
species. 

Thate^em?  and  febrile  sen* 


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V9l 


mkiAxjy  which  was  the  characleris" 
tick  peculiarity  of  Rousseau,  while 
It  proved  the  origiaof  ma&y  of  his 
lyiiaeries,  was,  perhaps,  a  priiici" 
pal  source  of  his  greatness.  It 
imparted  a  singular  delicacyi  fresh-' 
Dess,  aad  animation  to  every  page 
of  his  writings.  His  feelings,  in 
wiiatcver  channel  they  flowed, 
ru3lied  on  with  a  resistless  impet' 
uoaity  ;  but,  in  the  end,  they  made 
a  wreck  of  his  understanding. 
His  judgment  waa  lost  in  the  un- 
remitting turbulence  of  his  sensa*^ 
lions  ;  and  in  some  intervals  of  in- 
sanity, he  exhibited  the  melancho- 
ly prospect  of  genius  crumbling 
into  ruins. 

Tlie  language  of  Rousseau  was 
always  a  faithful  mirror  of  what. 
Was  passing  in  the  heart ;  which 
90W  thrilled  with  rapture,  and  now 
caged  with  passion^  Of  his  style, 
the  peculiar  characteristick  is  exu^ 
berance  of  imagery ;  profusion, 
without  distinction  of  lustre.  It 
often  resembles  a  landscape,  in 
which  there  is  a  great  assemblage 
ef  beautiful  forms,  without  any  in- 
termediate spots  of  barrenness  ; 
but  without  any  objects  of  a  strik- 
ing and  prominent  grandeur ;  and, 


in  the  contemplation  of  which,  the 
eye  ts,  at  last,  satiated  by  the  uni-^ 
ibrmity.  Yet,  highly  coloured  a« 
is  the  eloquence  ^  Rousseau,!  bc-f 
lieve  that  the  generality  of  readers 
would  peruse  his  works  with  lea» 
relish,  if  they  were  less  adorned^ 
And  it  must  be  confesaed,  that  the 
ornaments,  with  which  they  are. 
embellished,  are  not  the  frippery 
and  patchwork  of  a  paltry  artisty 
but  the  rich  copiousness  of  an 
highly  saturated  imagbation  ;  and 
they  often  possess  a  charm,  of 
which  even  the  apathy  of  the  cold-^ 
est  critick  can  hardly  be  insenublc 
to  the  fascination.  He  who  wish-. 
es  to  perfect  himself  in  those  deli^ 
cacies  of  language  or  curious  felici-' 
ties  of  phraseology,  which  impress 
a  palpable  form,  a  llviog  entity  oi» 
the  fleeting  tints  and  sensations  of 
the  heart,  should  carefulfy  analyse 
the  genius  of  the  style  of  Rousseau  ^ 
should  search  into  the  causes,  from 
which  result  the  beauty  and  spkn*^ 
dour  of  hiB  combinations ;  and  en-^ 
deavour  to  extract  fi'om  an  atten** 
trve  perusal  of  the  Eloise  and  the 
EmiliUs,  a  portion  of  that  taste  by^ 
which  they  were  inspired^ 


]»&.     FARR*S     CHAKACTKH     OT 

DR.  JORTIN, 


A$  to  Jortih,  whether  I  look  back 
fb  his  verse,to  hisprose,to  his  critical 
or  to  his  theological  works,there  are 
few  authors  to  whom  I  am^  so  much 
indebted  for  rational  entertainment 
or  for  solid  instruction.  Learned 
he  was,  without  pedantry.  He 
was  ingenious,  without  the  affecta- 
tion of  singularity.  He  was  a  lov- 
er  of  truth,  without  hovering  over 
the  gloomy  abyss  of  skepticism, 
and  a  friend  to  frec4nquiry,  with- 
out roving  into  the  dreary  and 
^thless  wiWs  of  latitudinaiianism. 
ii«  had  a  heart  which  never  dis- 


graced the  powers  of  his  under-- 
standing.  With  a  lively  imagina- 
tion, an  elegant  taste,  and  a  judge- 
ment most  masculine  and  iiost 
correct,  he  united  the  artless  and 
amiable  negligence  of  a  school- 
boy. Wit  without  ai  jiature,  and' 
sense  without  eflbrt,  he  could,  at 
will,  scatter  upon  every  subject  ; 
and  in  every  book,  the  writer  pre- 
sents us  with  a  near  and  disflfitet 
view  of  the  real  man. 

His  style,  though  inartiflciid,  i$- 
Bometimes  devated  :  though  fe- 
miliar^  it  is  never  mean  i  a&(i  tho* 


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1^3 


CltARAcTtR  Olr  bit.  JORTIX. 


employed  upon  various  topicks  of 
theology,  ethicks,  and  criticism,  it 
Is  not  arrayed  in  any  delusive  re- 
t^emblance,  either  of  solemnity, 
from  fiainatiCal  cantv-of  profound^ 
Bess,  from  scholastick  jargon,...of 
pi^eciaion,  from  the  crabbed  fbr- 
aialiues  of  cloudy  philologists,.. .or 
9f  refinement,  from  the  technical 
babbie  of  frivolous  connoisseurs. 

At  the  shadowy  and  fleeting  re- 
putation,which  b  sometimes  gain- 
ed by  the  petty  froUcks  of  literary 
Vanity,  or  the  mischievous  strug- 
gles of  controversial  rage,  Jortin 
never  grasped.  Truth,which  sonle 
men  are  ambitious  6f  seizing  by 
surprize  in  the  trackless  and  dark 
recess,  he  was  content  to  overtake 
in  the  broad  and  beaten  path :  And 
in  the  pursuit  of  it,  if  he  does  not 
excite  our  astonishment  by  the  ra- 
pidity of  his  strides,  he,  at  least, 
secures  our  confidence  by  the  firm- 
»css  of  his  step.  To  the  examin- 
ation of  positions  advanced  by  oth-» 
er  men,  he  always  brought  a  mind, 
which  neither  prepossession  had 
seduced,  nor  malevolence  polluted. 
He  imposed  not  his  own  conjec- 
tures as  infallible  and  irresisdbie 
truths,  nor  endeavoured  to  give  an 
air  of  importance  to  trifles,  by 
dogmatical  vehemence.  He  could 
Support  his  more  serious  opinions, 
without  the  versatility  of  a  sophist, 
the  fierceness  of  a  disputant,  or 
the  impertinence  of  a  bufibon.... 
more  than  this.... he  could  rclin* 
gtdsk  or  correct  them  with  the  calm 
and  Jteady  dignity  of  a  writer,who, 
•While  he  yielded  something  to  the 
arguments  of  his  antagonists,  was 
conscious  of  retaining  enough  to 
Command  their  respect.  He  had 
too  much  discernment  to  confound 
difference  of  opinion  with  maligni- 
ty or  dulness,  and  too  much  can- 
dour to  insult,  where  he  could  not 
Ijcrsuade.  Though  his  sensibili- 
ties Were  neither  coarse  nor  slug- 


gish, he  yet  Was  exein^t  fnm# 
those  fickle  humours,  those  rank' 
ling  jealousies,  and  that  restless 
waywardness,  which  mea  of  the 
biightest  talents  are  too  prone  to 
indulge.  He  carried  with  hini, 
into  every  station  in  which  he  wss 
placed,  and  every  subject  which 
be  exploi*ed,  a  solid  greatness  of 
soul,  which  could  spare  an  ink* 
riour,  though  in  the  offensive  form 
of  an  adversary,  and  endure  an 
equal  with,  or  vrithout,  the  sacred 
name  of  friend.  The  importance 
of  commendation,  as  well  to  bid 
who  bestows,  as  to  him  who  claims 
It,  he  estimated  not  only  with  jus- 
tice, but  with  delicacy,  and  there- 
fore he  neither  wantonly  lavished 
it,  nor  withheld  it  austerely.  But 
invective  he  neither  provoked  nof 
feared  ;  and,  as  to  the  seventies  of 
contempt,  he  reserved  them  for  oc- 
casions where  alone  they  could 
be  employed  with  propriety,  arid 
where,  by  hbnself,  they  always 
ucre  employed  with  effect. ...for 
the  chastisement  of  arrogant  dun- 
ces, of  censorious  sciolists,  of  in- 
tolerant bigots  in  every  sect,  and 
unprincipled  impostors  in  eve^ 
profession.  Distinguished  in  va- 
rious forms  of  literary  composi- 
tion, engaged  in  various  duties  of 
his  ecclesiastical  proTessioi*,  and 
blessed  with  a  long  and  honoura^ 
ble  life,  he  nobly  exemplified  that 
rare  and  illustrious  virtue  of  char- 
ity, which  Leland,  in  his  reply  to 
the  letter-writer,  thus  eloquently 
describes.  "Charity  never  mis- 
represents ;  never  ascribes  ob- 
noxious principles  or  mistaken 
opinions  to  an  opponent,  wliich  he 
hmi self  disavows  ;  is  not  so  earn- 
est in  refuting,  as  to  fancy  positions 
never  asserted,  and  to  extend  its 
censure  to  opinions,  which  loill 
perhaps  be  delivered.  Charity  is 
utterly  averse  to  sneeringj  the  most 
despicable    species    of    ridicukt 


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rOKTRT* 


19S 


that  most  despicable  subterfuge  of 
an  impotent  objector.  Charity 
never  supposes,  that  all  sense  and 
knowledge  are  confined  to  a  par- 
ticular circle,  to  a  district,  or  to  a 
country  :  Charity  never  condemns 
and  embraces  principles  in  the 
same,  breath  ;  never  firofeMes  to 
confute,  what  it  acknowledges  to  be 
just,  never  presumes  to  bear  down 
an  adversary  with  confident  asser- 
tions ;  charity  does  not  call  dis- 
sent insolence,  or  the  want  of  im- 


plicit submission  a  want  of  com- 
mon respect." 

The  esteem,  the  affection,  the 
reverence  which  I  feel  for  so  pro- 
found a  scholar,  and  so  honest  a 
man,  as  Dr.  Jortin,  make  me 
wholly  indifferent  to  the  praise  and 
censure  of  those,  who  vilify,  with- 
out reading,  his  writings,  or  read 
them.  Without  finding  some  incen- 
tive to  study,  some  proficiency  in 
knowledge,  or  some  improvement 
in  virtue. 


POETRY. 


For  the  Anthology. 


▼ERSES   OH  SPRINO. 

AGAI>I  the  ftrength  of  Wlnttr  fiOli, 
Mi  niflaa  forces  diMppear, 
And  now  the  dowoy-piolooM  galet  • 
Loose  ftom  Ills  grasp  xbt  joaxhM  year. 

Retumine  Spifng  wirh  ttoU  eye. 
Her  irfrgta  bpMm  coM  with  dew. 
Bids  (Mr  anrndant  graces  fly, , 
And  nature's  faded  charms  i 


Again,  amid  the  darkening  grove^ 
It  heard  Che  venial  voice  of  Joy, 
Agaia  the  mag^  powers  of  love 
'^hOr  solUy  winiUog  aru  employ. 

Wkh  merry,  heart,  and  cheetM  song 

Th^  ploaghmaa  treads  the  hUckening  field, 

PeHghted  as  he  moves  aloog 

To  coont  what  loture  harvests  yldd. 

TV  impatient  sailor  leaves  the  shofe» 
Adveacoring  on  the  watery  waste, 
Undaoitad  hears  the  sorges*  mar 
And  leaflcas  bfsva  tha  howling  blase 

Tea,  spring  retoms ;  but  wanting  now 
Tlie  joyi  which  earlier  yean  have  known. 
The  snnny  smOe,  the  micrond4d  brow. 
Which  marked  the  Spring  of  Life,  have  Sewn. 

H*««M«,  April  11,  1805. 

.   VoHILNo.4.    2A 


nEATir     AKD     DAPRKE. 

To  an   agreeable  young  lady,  but  eSc 
tremely  lean. 

By  Swift. 

DEATH  went  nimi  a  solemn  day 

At  Pluto's  hall  his  court  to  pay : 

The  phantom,  haying  humbly  kisC 

Hb  gri«Iy  monarch's  sooty  fitt. 

Presented  hfan  the  weekly  bills 

Of  doctors,  fevers,  plagues,  ana  pills. 

Pluto,  observing  since  the  peace 

Tlie  burial -article  decrease. 

And,  vext  to  see  afialrs  miscarry, 

DeclarM  in  council,  Ddth  must  marry} 

Vow'd  he  nd  longer  could  support 

Old  bacheloin  about  his  court ; 

The  Interest  of  bis  realm  had  need 

That  Death  should  get  a  numerous  breed} 

Young  Deathllngs,  who,  by  practice  made 

Proficient  In  thdr  father's  trade. 

With  colonies  might  stock  around 

His  large  donUniont  nnder  ground. 

A  consult  of  coquettes  below 
Was  call'd,  to  rig  hhn  out  a  bean  t 
Prom  her  own  head  Megasra  takes 
A  periwig  of  twisted  snakes  i 
Which  in  the  nicest  fashkm  curfd 
(Like  toupets  of  thl<i  upper  world), 
Wth  flour  of  sulphur  powder*d  welt. 
That  graceful  on  his  shoulders  fell  ^ 
An  adder  of  the  sable  kind 
In  Hne  direct  hung  down  behfaid  s 
The  owl,  the  raven,  and  the  bat, 
Cltthb'd  fora  fcatha  to  his  hat  | 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


ry4 


y9JITSY> 


Hi*  coat,  M  luvrtr*!  Tclvtr  flail,' 
Bcqacath'd  to  Pluto,  corpiC  and  all. 
But,  loth  hto  person  to  expose 
Baro,  Ultc  a  carcaM  pkkt  by  crow*, 
L.  Uwy«r  o'er  hh  iMnda  and  faoe 
Stuck  artfiiHy  a  parciinocnt-ca«c. 

Thua  fumkhed  out,  he  •cot  liis  traia 
To  take  a  bpusc  In  Warwick-lane ; 
The  **  faculty,"  his  humble  friends, 
A  compllmeiital  mejsjige  lendu  : 
Thek  presMeat  hi  •cartel  g«iwa 
Hatangu*«l,  and  welcom'd  him  to  town. 

But  Oe«tli  hid  buskien  to  dkpatch  •, 
Hla  mind  was  ninning  on  hit  match. 
And,  hearbiit  much  of  Daphne's  fame. 
His  **  majesty  of  tenors*'  came. 
Fine  as  a  colonel  of  the  guards. 
To  vWt  where  she  sate  at  canU  : 
She,  as  be  came  Into  the  room. 
Thought  him  Adonis  In  hi»  bloom. 
And  now  her  i»eart  with  pleasure  jumps  > 
She  scarce  remembers  what  is  trxmips  i 
For  such  a  shape  of  skin  and  bone 
Was  neves  seeo,  except  her  own ; 
Charm'd  with  hh  eyea,  and  chin,  and  snout. 
Her  pocket-glass  drew  slUy  out  j 
And  gtew  enamour^  with  iter  phiz, 
A«  just  the  coimtcrpart  of  hfc. 
She  darted  many  a  private  -glance. 
And  freely  made  the  ftnt  advadce  ; 
Was  of  her  beauty  grown  so  vain. 
She  doubted  n«t  to  win  the  vmidtu 

Nothing  Bhe:thovght  could  sooficr  gala  bin&r 
Than  vrith  her  wit  to  entertain  him. 
She  ask'd  about  Ynfg  fciends  below  ; 
ThU  meagre  fop,  that  battcf'd  beau  : 
Whether  some  laU  departed  toast* 
Had  got  galUnts  among  tltt  ghoiU  I 
If  Chloe  were  a  sharper  stiU 
As  great  a*  ever  at  quadrille  f 
(The  ladle*  there  must  need*  be  rook*  ; 
For  cards,  we  know,  arc  Pluto's  boojt*  I) 
If  Florimel  had  found  her  love. 
For  whom  she  Uang'd  herself  above  i 
How  oft'  a  week  was  kept  a  ball 
By  Proserpine  at  Pluto's  halll 
She  fancied  those  Eiysikn  shades 
The  svtreetest  place  for  masquerades : 
How  pleasant,  on  the  banks  of  Styx, 
To  troll  it  in  a  coach  aod  sis  t 

Vrhat  pride  a  female  heart  Inflames  ! 
How  endless  0C  ambitkm'^  aims ! 
Cease,  haughty  nymph ;    the  Fates  decicer 
Death  must  not  be  a  spon»c  for  thee  : 
For,  when  by  chance  the  meagre  ihade 
Vpon  thy  hand  hb  finger  laid. 
Thy  hand  a*  dry  and  cold  as  lead, 
Hb  matrimonial  spirit  fled  ; 
He  felt  about  tils  heart  a  damp. 
That  quite  extlngulsk'd  Cupid's  lamp : 
Away  the  ArlgHtefl  spectre  scuds, ' 
And  leavct  my  lady  !a  the  audt* 


For  tht  AmM^. 

VERSION   OF     TH*   8TH    CHAFIMC 

OF  Solomon's  soKa. 

en  that  thoa  vrert  Uke  bim  «>o  dfcw 
Life  from  the  same  maternal  breast. 

No  crimson  should  my  cbcek  imbue. 
When  I  thy  llpt  in  sccitt  piot. 

Bomt  I'd  pcrsuafle  thee  to  vctum,    I 

With  me  dorocftiek  bliss  to  prove, 

>^  here  from  my  mother  I  would  leanr 

To  keep  thee,  all  the  lore  of  love. 

Thy  Up  should  rich  delicious  wine. 
My  own  pomgcanate  vintage,  taste  ; 

On  thy  left  hand  my  head  recline. 
And  tliy  right  arm  enfold  my  waist. 

When  «uch  a  heaven  of  bliu  we  sharcr 
ShouMl  sleep  exhausted  nature  seiae. 

Maid*  of  Jerusalem,  forbear 
To  wake  my  love  untfl  be  please. 

What  stranger  from  the  wilderness 
Comes  leaning  on  her  love  f    the  mai* 

Wliom  once  1  rais'd  with  chaste  carest 
Beneath  the  citron's  spreading  shadfc. 

Within  that  comocrttci  grote 
Thy  parent  first  enataracM  her  driU* 

There  first  the  pledge  of  ihiuoiii  V>ty^ 
Gaa'4  on  her  mothei^  ftco  Md  m^N^ 

Set  me  a  signet  on  tWae  ar«n. 
And  on  thy  heart  my  toaagc  Ift 

The  spell  would  drive,  wMi  potent  dniVr 
The  fiend  of  ^alooiy  away. 

The  cruel  fiend,  greedy  •■  death. 
No  art  can  soothe,  noflhttery  tiaci 

Whose  eyes  ait  btomShg  coal*,  whote  bitatfr 
A  scorchfaig,  all  detourtog  P 


LoTe  ever  tSeorand  < — , — 

No  floodt  can  quench  hk  hUM«ly  1%^; 

No  wealth  corrupt  Mb,  for  he  ifiiMV 
The  sordid  w^fiMCMt  fxtm  hk  d|hU 

Our  Uttle  shter  nraet  ind  f idiv 

Her  boMm  lite  the  tefint  toft. 
Wait*  till  the 


Swell  thd 


e  goi^e  vernal 
MlliUii,ttid( 


CBLOI. 

CBloe  new-marTy*d  look*  on  men  no  mmfi 
Why  thcB  if»  pUlfi  fef  what  a|ie  toflk'*  ^'^^^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


VOSTHT. 


19S 


H«w  leautiful  it  ni^ki  ? 

WOW  caate  cUll  evening  oo,  and  twUigbt  grajr 
Ibdin  her  »ober  livery  all  thingt  clad  ; 
tOcncc  aecompnktf  ;  ^or  bust  «nd  kM, 
They  to  thdr  gratty  conch,  that  to  cMr  neiti 
Wore  alonk  {   all  bot  the  wakeful  nlshtfaigale  ; 
She  all  n%iit  long  her  amorooi  4eKant  fung ; 
eOence  w««  pleaa'd }  now  gkMr'd  the  firmanent 
Wkh  JIviDg  aapphin  t  Hetpemi,  thai  kd 
The  starry  host,  rode  brightest,  till  the  mooa 
UsiOK  iB  ciooded  majesty,  at  tength 
ilpparent  qiicon,  unveUod  her  peerless  Ilghc, 
AaA  o*ct  the  dark  her  silver  mantle  threw. 

MiLTOF. 

As  when  the  moon,  refulgent  lamp  of  night ! 
O'er  heav'n'sdear  asure  ipreods  her  sacred  light, 
When  not  a  breach  disturbs  the  deep  serene* 
lod  not  a  ckmd  o'ercaats  the  solemn  scene  ; 
Around  her  thione  the  vivid  planeu  roll. 
And  stars  annnmber'd  giM  the  glowing  pole, 
©•er  the  dark  trees  a  ycflowtr  verdure  shed. 
And  tip  with  silver  ev'ry  mountain's  head  ; 
Then  shine  the  vales,  the  rocks  in  prospoct  rise, 
A  food  of  glory  bursts  from  all  the  skies : 
The  consckraa  swains,  rejoicing  in  the  sight, 
Cye  the  bkie  vanlt,  and  ble»  the  useful  light. 

Pipe's  Home  a. 

How  beantflal  is  a^ht  1 
A  dewy  It cahncss  fills  tfte  siknt  air» 

No  ndst  obscures,  no  little  cknid 

Breaks  tlsc  whole  sacae  oi  heaves  : 
In  fnU-orb*d  glory  the  majestick  moon 

AoUs  throogh  the  dark  blue  depths. 

Beneath  Saer  steady  ray 

The  desert  ciccle  spreads. 
Like  the  Toood  ocean  gkded  with  the  sky. 

iiow  beastiliil  is  night  1 

SOUTBKV. 


rNnSI     SEATTON. 

By  Dr.  Johnson, 

(Mt  Lasdcon  AngQcantmi  4uictom  et  emenda- 
tum.) 

LEXICON  ad  finemloiigo  loctamloe  tandem 
Icaliger  nt  doxit,  tenuis  pertsfus  opells. 
Vile  IndignatQs  ftndlnm,  m^afqne  molefta^ 
iBgemk  epoius,  fcribendaqtie  lexlca  m^n^ig^^ 
IHmnstis,  poeaam  pro  pqeob  omnibus  ^^m. 
me  qoldem  rede,  fubUmis,  doftos  et  acer, 
t^^em  decuit  maK>ra  fequl,  majoribus  aptum, 
^  vctcrum  modo  £ida  ducwB,  modo  ft^mfai 

vatom, 
J^rat  et  qukqold  virtm,  fkpleatia  quicqatd, 
Blxerat,  impeiliqae  tkes,  ca^ue  meatus, 
l^riuoayit  aahaa  kdmtm  f^lTcrct  orbca. 


fallimur  exemplis }  temere  fibi  turb  a  fcholarvfn 
Ima  tuas  credit  pcrmittl  Scaligcr  bit. 
Quifque  fuum  norit  modulum  ;  tibl  priine,  virb- 
nim 
•  Ut  ftudiis  i>crcm,  aut  anftm  par  efle  querells, 
Hon  mihi  forte  datum  ;  lent!  lira  teguinis  obfiut 
FrigDia,  »eu  nimium  longo  jaculfle  vetcmo, 
Stve  mihf  mentem  dederit  natnn  minorem. 

Te  AerIK  functma  eara,  vocnmque  lakbris 
Tuto  ekidatem  fpatBs  Ikpfentia  dia 
Excipit  snhereis,  ars  omnli  flaudtt  amico, 
Lkiguarum^ue  oraoi  terra  dlfcordla  coocon 
MoltipUci  reducem  cbcum  fonatore  magiltrum. 

Me,  penfi  immuab  cum  jam  mihi  redder,  inaiMs 
Defidix  flors  dura  manet,  graviorque  iabore 
TriAli  et  atra  flulcs,  et  tanlz  tsedia  vitae. 
Nafcuntur  curis  cone,  vcxatque  dolorum 
Impo/tuna  cohors,  vacuae  mala  fbmnia  mentis. 
Nunc  damoia  juvant  nodurnae  gaudia  menfae,    . 
Nunc  loca  fola  placeot  -,  fruftra  te,  toame,  m. 

cumbens 
Alme  voco,  impatiens  noAis  metuenfiiue  did. 
Omiria  fcrcuiro  trefridas,  ckipnsD  omnia  iairo,  .i 
Si  qua  ufquam  pateat  melloris  fiemita  vitc. 
Nee  quid  agam  inverilo,  meditatos  grandia,  cogor 
Notior  ipfc  mihi  ficil,  incnitumque  fiiteri 
fcAuM  et  ingenlam  vano  ft  robore  jactans. 
Ingcnium  nifi  materiem  dodrina  minlArat, 
CcOat  inops  renmi,  at  torpet,  fl  marmoris  abfit 
Copia,  Phknad  tecunda  potentia  coeli. 
Q^qidd  agam,  quocunqne  ferar,    cenitlbas 

obftat 
Res  angufta  doml,  et  macrae  penaria  mentis. 

Non  rationis  opa  anhnas,  nunc  parta  recenftas 
Conf)}idt  aggdias.  et  fe  miratur  in  fllis. 
Nee  iibi  de  gazs  prvOns  quod  poilulat  ufus 
^  Sommns  adeffc  jubet  cdia  domfautor  ab  arcc ; 
Non  operum  fcric  ferlem  dtnn  computat  sevl, 
Prsctcritii  frtthur,  tetos  aut  ruralt  honores 
Ipfc  fol  judex,  adae  bene  munera  vitas ; 
Bed  fua  regna  videns,  loca  node  filentla  hrte 
Horret,  ubt  vane  fpedes,  anibneqae  Aigaces, 
St  rerum  volitantTare  per  Inane  figurae. 
Qjxid  fadamf  teiMbrlfiie  plgram  damnart  tfe- 
nectam 
Keftat  i  an  acclngar  ftodils  gravlorlbus  audax  f 
Aut  hoc,  flnioAim  eft,  tandem  ooraleslca  poC- 
camf 


TRANSLATION. 

from  Mar^y^  Lffic  of  Johnfiai. 


KNOW    YOURSELF. 


{AfterievlABff  and  o^nj^t  ^ 


the  SaiBfli  Lcft- 


WHEN  ScaHger,  whole  yean  oTiaboor  paft» 
Behdd  hh  Lexicon  complete  at  left. 
And  weary  of  his  talk,  with  woodbine  oycs. 
Saw  from  words  ptt'd  oa  vrords  a  fabtick  rift. 
He  curs*d  the  Indaftf y.  Inertly  ftroag. 
In  creeping  toll  that  eoald  perfift  so  long. 
And  If,  enrag'd  lie  cried,  Heav*n  meant  to  *«A 
Iti  kaeneft  fcniMnce  •»  the  guiUf  bead. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


196 


POETRY. 


The  dradscrf  of  words  the  damnM  would  know, 
Doom'd  (o  write  Lexlcoiu  io  endldi  woe.« 

Yet.TOD  lud  cause,  great  Genius,  to  repent ; 
*«  You  loft  good  days  that  might  be  better  fpent ; 
You  weU  might  grudge  the  hounof  ling>ring  pain. 
Ami  view  your  learned  labours  with  difd^. 
To  yon  were  giv*n  the  Urge  expanded  mhid. 
The  flame  of  genha,  and  the  tafte  refined. 
*Twas  yours  on  eagle  wings  aloft  to  foar^ 
And  amIdJt  rolling  worlds  the  Great  Firft  Csoft 

explore  j 
To  fix  the  Kras  of  recorded  time. 
And  live  In  cr*ry  ape,  In  ev*ry  dime  ; 
Record  the  chlcfc,  who  propt  their  country's 

caufc ; 
Who  founded  empires,  and  eftabUfhM  laws ; 
To  learn  whate*cr  the  tage  with  virtue  fraught, 
Whate^  the  mnfc  of  moral  wlWom  taught. 
Thefc  were  your  quarry;  thcfe  to  you  were 

known. 
And  the  wocld's  ample  volume  was  your  own. 

Yet  wam*d  by  me,  ye  pigmy  wlu,  bewaret 
Kor  with  immortal  Scaliger  compare. 
Forme,  though  his  example  ftrlke  my  view. 
Oh  I  not  for  me  his  foot&eps  to  purfiie. 
Whether  firtt  nature,  unpropitious,  cold. 
This  clay  compounded  in  a  ruder  mould  ; 
Or  the  flow  current,  loit'ring  at  my  heart. 
Mo  gleam  of  wit  or  fancy  can  impart ; 
Whatc'er  the  caufe,  from  me  no  numbers  flow. 
Ho  vifioos  warm  me,  and  no  raptures  glow. 

A  mind  like  8caUger%  (Upeciour  ftUl, 
Mo  grief  could  conquer,  no  misfortune  chUl. 
Though  for  the  n^xe  of  words  his  native  (Ucs 
He  feena'd  to  quit*  'twas  but  ag.iin  to  rile  ( 
To  mount  once  oMre  to  the  bright  fpurce  of  day. 
And  view  the  wonderp  of  th'  stlterift  way. 
The  love  of  fame  his  gen'roos  bofom  ftr'd ; 
Sach  feiencc  haU'd  him,  an4  each  mufo  infpir'd. 
for  1^  the  taq»  of  lemming  trim'4  the  bays, 
And  nations  grew  harmonious  in  his  praile*         * 

My  talk  perform*d,  and  all  my  labours  o*er. 
For  me  what  lot  ha'*  fortune  now  hi  ftore  i 
The  llftleik  wUfluccecds,  that  worft  difcafe. 
The  rack  of  indolence,  the  fluggUh  eafe. 
Care  growf  on  care,  and  o'er  my  aphing  brahi 
Black  melancholy  pours  her  morbid  train. 
Mo  khid  relief,  no  lenitive  at  handy 
I  feek  at  nridnight  clubs,  the  fodal  band ; 
But  midnight  dubs,  where  vrit  with  noift  coo* 

Where  Comus  revels,  and  where  wine  Inljpircti 
Del%ht  no  more :  I  fieek  my  kmdy  bed. 
And  call  on  deep  to  Ibothe  my  langukl  head. 
3ut  fleep  from  thefe  (ad  lldi  flies  far  away  ; 
I  mqarn  ail  night,  and  dread  the  coming  daf. 
Exhaufted,  tir'd,  1  throw  my  eyes  around. 
To  find  Come  vacant  fpot  on  daflkk  ground  { 
An(\  loon,  vain  hope  I  I  form  a  grand  defign  } 
Languor  fuceeeds,  and  all  my  pow*ndedine. 

^  8fe  Scaliger'f  epigram  on  the  fame  fub^, 
communicated,  without  doubt,  by  Dr.  Johoion. 
ecat.lffg.i74»,p.».  » 


If  (deaoe  open  not  her  rtcbdk  vtin. 

Without  materials  all  our  toil  is  vain. 
A  form  to  rugged  ftone  when  Phidias  gives, 
.  Beneath  his  touch  a  new  creatton  lives. 
Remove  his  marble,  and  his  genfaa  dies ; 
With  nature  then  no  breathtaig  ftatue  vtei. 

Whatc'er  I  plan,  1  SeA  my  pow*facoafiBM 
By  fortune's  frown  and  pcnurf  of  mind. 
I  boitt  no  knowledge  gleanM  with  toO  aad  ixife. 
That  bright  reward  of  a  well-aded  life. 
1  view  myftif,  while  realbn's  feeble  light 
Shoots  a  pale  gUmmer  through  the  g^^omof 

night, 
Whne  pafiions,  error,  phantoou  of  the  bniOv 
And  vain  opbikms  fill  the  dark  domain ; 
A  dreary  void,  where  tears  with  grief  comhin'd 
Wafte  all  withbi,  and  defolate  the  mhid. 

What  then  rcmabis  t  Muft  I  In  flow  decBoe 
To  mute  Inglorious  cxSt  old  age  refign  I 
Or,  bold  ambition  kindling  hi  my  hreaft. 
Attempt  (bme  arduous  laik!    Or,  were  it  beft 
Brooding  o'er  Lexkons  to  pals  the  day, 
And  hi  that  labour  drudge  my  life  away  i 


For  the  Anthology, 

WRITTEN    AT   SUNSET. 

WET  with  the  tears,  whkh  cveidng  wecpe, ' 
The  closhig  flower  conceals  her  breast. 
Secure  the  vernal  waihler  sleeps. 
The  virice  (tf  love  and  joy  supprest. 

Ere  long  shall  night  assume  her  sway. 
Reposing  nature  on  her  arm 
Blot  the  lart  purple  flush  of  day, 
Dissolve  the  twilight's  lingering  charm. 

And  thus  the  transient  joys  of  life 
Fade  on  Attention's  sober  eye, 
nil  vcxt  no  more  w  1th  various  strife 
IMan  learns  to  slumber  or  to  die. 

H»o»oo*,  April,  1806. 
%  And  learn  with  equal  eas^,  to  sleep  or  die. 


BOKO. 


DOR|in>A*k  sparkling  wtt  and  eyes. 

United,  cast  too  fierce  a  light. 
Which  bhues  high,  but  quickly  dies, 

Patas  not  the  heart,  but  hurts  the  sight. 

Love  Is  a  calmer,  gentler  joy. 

Smooth  are  his  looks,  and  soft  his  pace  i 
Her  Cupid  Is  a  black-guard  boy. 

That  runs  his  link  f^U  bi  your  face. 

Dot  SIT. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


197 


THE  BOSTON  REVIEW, 


For    jiPRIL,     1806. 


Ubrnm  tnam  legl  8c  qiuiQ  dil^^eiitlidme  potui 
bitrarer.      Nam  ego  dkere  venim  anaevi. 
:  laudjui  mcrentor.— — PliDy. 


annocavl,  que  comnratandt,  que  esteioidt,  ar- 
Ncque  ulli  patkoclus  rqwchcndontur  quam    qui 


ARTICLE    1. 

[Concluded.] 

Afemaira  of  th^  American  Academy 
of  Art9  and  Scienoea.  Vol,  I, 
1805.     4to.  pp.   564. 

Part    IL      Physical    Papers. 

/.  Observations  ufion  an  hyfioth^ 
eais  for  aotving  the  fihenomena  of 
iight^  with  incidental  observations^ 
tending  to  shew  the  heterogeneous* 
ness  of  lights  and  of  the  electrick 
flidd^  by  their  intermixture^  or 
union  J  with  each  other.  By  James 
Bowdoinj  Esquire^  President  of  the 
American  Academy  of  Arts  and 
Sciences, 

The  celebrated  Dr.  Franklin  ob- 
served, that  he  was  mtich  in  the 
dark  about  light.  And  it  must  be 
acknowledged,  that,  notwithstand- 
ing the  great  progress  we  have 
made  in  opticks,  many  difficulties 
still  remain  relative  to  the  nature  of 
fight,  or  the  manner  in  which  vis- 
ion is  produced.  It  is  well  known, 
that  modem  philosophers  have 
proposed  two  hypotheses  for  the 
purpose  of  explaining  this  point. 
In  one,  adopted  by  Huygens,  Eu- 
ler,  and  some  others,  an  extremely 
subtile,  elastick  fluid  is  supposed 
to  penetrate  all  bodies,  and  to  fill  all 
space ;  and  vibrations,being  excited 
in  it  by  the  action  of  luminous 
bodies,  are  propagated  to  the  eye, 
and  produce  in  that  organ  the  sen- 
sation of  vision  in  the  same  man- 
ner, as  pulsations  of  air  produce  in 
the  organ  of  hearing  the  sensation 
of  sound.    According  to  the  other 


hypothesis,  maintained  by  Sir  Isaac 
Newton  and  others,  light  consists 
of  particles  of  matter,  extremely 
minute,  which  being  projected  or 
thrown  off  from  luminous  bodies 
in  every  direction  by  a  repulsive 
force,  and  reflected  by  opaque  bo- 
dies, produce  the  sensation  of  vi- 
sion by  impulse  on  the  eye. 

The  hypothesis,  on  which  the 
author  of  this  Memoir  remarks,  is 
contained  in  some  queries,  propos- 
ed by  Dr  Franklin,  and  is  m  sub* 
stance  the  same  as  tlie  former  of 
the  two  preceding  ;  to  which  the 
observations  may  be  considered  as 
objections,  or  arguments  in  favor 
of  the  other. 

In  one  part  of  the  reasoning  in 
form  of  quenes  relative  to  the  pro- 
duction of  light  in  various  instances 
by  motion,  on  supposition  that  the 
hypothesis  of  vibration  is  true, 
more  seems  to  be  assumed  than  is 
granted  in  the  hypothesis.  It  does 
not  appear  to  be  inferable  from  Dr, 
Franklin's  statement,  nor  from  any 
other,  that  we  recollect  to  have 
'seen,  that  every  kind  and  degree  of 
motion  in  the  elastick  fluid  is  sup« 
posed  or  admitted  to  be  productive 
of  the  sensation  of  vision  ;  nor 
does  this  ^em  to  be  a  necessary 
consequence.  Jn  the  theory  of 
sound,  though  the  vibratory  agen- 
cy of  the  air  is  clearly  ascertained, 
yet  it  is  not  supposed  that  every 
kind  and  degree  of  motion  in  the 
air  produces  the  sensation  of 
sound. 

The  author's  ideas  respecting 
th^  heterogeneousness  of  light  ati4 


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MEMOltlS  OF   Tin 


dfthe  clectiickfltild  may  be  well 
Jeamed  from  tlie  following  extract, 
it  being  noted,  that  he  uses  fire  in 
it  as  synomimous  with  liijht. 

«  Electricity  and  fire. differ  in 
many  respects,  and  in  some  they 
4kgFee  »  as  hath  been  siiewn  in 
Dr.  Fr,ankHn*9  letters  on  elec- 
tricity. So  far  as  they  agree  in 
.Xheir  effects,  their  nature  may  be 
presumed  to  be  alike  :  or  rather, 
Iron)  that  agreement  and  simili- 
tude 'Of  eJSects,  I  tliink  it  may  be 
inferred,  that  they  are  mixt  with, 
and  g^erally  do  accompany  each 
other  ;  and  tliat  each  produces  its 
,own  effect  at  tlie  time  of  their 
joint  operation.  The  effects  of 
electricity,  similar  to  those  of  fire, 
being  produced  by  the  fire  mixt 
Yiith  it ;  and  the  effects  of  ^re^ 
resembling  those  of  electricity,  be- 
4ng  produced  by  the  electricity 
mixt  with  that  :  the  compound 
taking  its  name  from  the  predom- 
inant princ^>le." 

Is  it  not  more  probable  that 
^pne  fluid,  operating  in  different 
modes  and  circumstances,  produ* 
M&  those  diflerent  effects  ? 

II.  Observations  on  lighty  and 
$he  waste  (^  matter  in  the  stm 
Mnd  Ji'Xt  starsy  occasioned  by  the 
constant  efflux  <^  light  from 
4hem  ;  with  a  conjecture^  profios^ 
^d  by  way  ^  ^uery^  and  suggest^ 
^ng  a  Tttcanj  by  which  their  sever- 
fil  systems  might  be  Jireserved 
from  the  disorder  and  final  rxdn^ 
40. which  tluiiy  seem  Uable  by  that 
,w^aste  qf  matter^  afid  by  the  law 
4^  gravitation^  By  James  Bow*' 
jioia^  HsguirCf  Presidetit  qf  the 
tdmerican  Academy  qf  Arts  juad 
^^ciences, 

I>t.  Franklin  had  made  som« 
objections  to  the  Newtoniaii  doc- 
trine of  light  on  the  ground,  that 
•I'hiiMRe  mw>t.  conaequentijr  be  a  mo- 
ineAlum  «i:  force  in  the  particles 


of  light,  and  a  waste  in  the  i 
of  the  sun,  V^hich  do  not  accord 
with  experienoe  and  obsenration. 
Mr.  Bowdoin  endeavours  to  re- 
move these  ol>jections.  Accord- 
ingly the  "  Observations  on  Light" 
in  the  former  part  are  calculated 
to  show,  that  the  inference  relative 
to  the  motion  or  momentum  of 
light  is  not  just,  and  of  course  the 
objection,  raised  on  it,  unfounded. 
In  the  other  part,  after  some  good 
observations  on  the  waste  of  mat- 
ter in  the  sun  by  emission  of  lights 
the  hypothesis  is  introduced,  which 
is  announced  with  so  much  mod- 
esty and  caution  in  the  title.  The 
author ,apparently  well  apprized  of 
the  difficulty  of  supporting  it  with 
evidence,  merely  proposes  it  as  a 
query,  or  subject  of  consideration. 
That  wonderful  phenomenon,  the 
ring  of  Saturn,  which  appears  to 
tlie  planet  like  a  vast,  surrounding, 
luminous  arch,  suggested  the  idea 
of  conjecturing  tljat  a  hollow 
sphere  or  orb  might  encompass 
the  several  systems,  which  com- 
pose the  visible  heavens.  This 
surrounding  orb  is  supposed  to  be 
fitted  by  its  structure,  and  the 
properties  of  gravity,  repulsion  of 
light,  &c,  with  whifth  it  is  furnish- 
ed to  stop  tjie  rays  of  light,  reflect  • 
tltem  to  tiie  source,  whence  they 
emanated,  and  thus  prevent  loss  or 
waste  of  any  matter  within  it,  and 
preserve  the  magnitude  of  the  sup 
and  stars ;  and  also  to  serve  as  a 
counterbalance  to  the  mutual  grav- 
ities of  the  systems  and  bodies,  in- 
closed by  it,  thus  contributing  to 
the  preservation  of  their  relative 
distances,  and  the  pix>Iongation  of 
their  regular  motions. 

The  Iblkjwing  remark  shows, 
that  the  author  was  not  insensible 
_to  the  weight  of  objections.  "  To 
this  hypothesb  objections  may  be 
made,  and  such  as  might  prove  it 
to  be)  like  many  an  one  which  ha^ 


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AMSBICA*    ACAftSMT. 


t3t 


preceded  it,  a  mere  ph^nophical 
reverie." 

UJ,  Ohacrvationt  tending  to 
provty  by  phanomcna  and  tcrifiturcy 
ike  eadHtence  of  an  orbj  which  «i/r- 
TDundM  the  whole  vidblcy  material 
system  ;  and  which  may  be  necet^a* 
ry  to  fireaerve  it  from  the  ruin,  to 
wthich^  vithout  wuch  a  counterbal" 
ancej  it  9ee7na  liable  by  that  urdversat 
firittcifUe  in  matter j  gravitation^  By 
•Barnes  Bo^vdoin^  J&tq,  President 
•f  the  jlmcrican  Academy  qf  Art9 
and  Sciences, 

In  this  Memoir  i»  adduced  the 
cvideiice,  on  which  the  author  de* 
pends  to  support  his  hjrpothe^  of 
an  aIl<«UTTOunding  orb. 

^  The  evidence  is-«-«phoenomena 
and  scripture. 

^  The  phcenomena  are— the  lu^ 
minous  girdle  in  the  blue  expanse, 
called  the  Milky  Way  ;  other  lu- 
iimioiis  appearances  in  it ;  and  the 
expanse  itself.'' 

With  respect  to  the  Milky  Way, 
objection  is  made  to  the  opmion, 
that  its  appearance  is  occasioned 
by  the  blended  light  of  stars  f  and 
k  is  observed,  <<  the  phoe^menon 
strikes  us^  as  it  may  be  supposed^ 
■Qch  a  luminous  ginUe  would 
stiike,  if  its  light  were  reflected 
from  the  concave  sur&oe  of  a  &r 
distant  orb ;  ta  which,  en  the  hypo- 
thesis assumed,  it  had  been  pro-r 
pelled  from  the  numerous  systems 
which  the  orb  enfolds.'' 

Quotations  are  given  from  Fer^ 
g:uaon  and  Smithy  containing  some 
•baeiTations  on  the  milky  way» 
and  descriptions  of  some  whitish 
^lota  or  iuminoin  appeanmces  m, 
the  hearens.  And  it  la  obsenred*. 
<*  From  these  phcenomena  it  scema 
Boc  tmprobablB,  that  the  Mi&f 
Way,  lAd  those:  lucid  spots,  are 
partaofacoDcavsci)ody  or  od>,  ai 
the  same  nature  with  some  of  tiie 
•cber  heareniy  bodied ;  and  wiiose 


bght  transmitted  to  us,  es^btta 
those  phenomena,  according  to 
the  laws  and  circumstances,  which 
regukte  it." 

Sir  Isasic  Newton's  explanation 
of  *^  th^  blue  concave  expanse^ 
which  surrounds,  and  appears  t» 
limit  viable  nature,"  b  considered 
as  unsatisfactory.  The  «opinion 
relatively  to  thb  phcrnomenon,  en-^ 
tertained  by  this  author,  and  hia 
ground  for  supporting  it,  may  be 
seen  in  the  following  extract. 

^  Nattire  is  simple  and  unifiornt 
in  Us  operations.  From  the  same 
cause  follow  like  effects ;  and  these 
indiizate  the  same  cause.  Bodies 
of  every  kind,  through  the  medi^ 
um  of  light,  produce  their  respect^ 
ive  phcenomena,  and  these  demon* 
strate  the  reality  of  those  bodies. 

**Fn>m  these  principles  we  infer 
the  reality  of  those  terrestrial  bo« 
dies,  which,  by  reason  of  thdr  situ^ 
ation  and  distance,  can  only  be  the 
objects  of  sight:  and  from  the 
same  principles  we  also  infer  the 
Fealky  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  the 
planets,  and  fixed  stars.  If  thi* 
last  inference  be  just,  is  it  not 
equally  just  to  infer,  from  the  same 
principles,  the  reality  of  the  blue 
circumaniJ}ient  expanse  :  that  isf 
that  it  is  a  real  concave  body,  en^ 
compassing  all  vis&le  nature  ?" 

After  the  statement  of  s«ch  cv" 
idtncciki  finrourof  an  orii  smround*' 
ing  the  visible  universe,  as  seeom 
to  him  to  be  deducibie  from  nature 
al  phceaomena,  farther  light  !• 
sougitt  in  the  sacred  scriptureBv 
His  own  words  express  his  sott^ 
mcnts  on  the  propriety  of  recut^ 
ring  to  this  source  of  information* 

*^  In  regard  te  the  subject  m 
hand,  there  seems  to  be  a  happf 
cninciriepne  between  phasnomemi 
and  scripture ;  and  therefore  io 
fvrthcr  evidence  of  soch  an  cnlif 
and  in  evidence  of  several  other 
orbs  sinular,  and  concentriilt  te  if, 


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MEMOIRS 'OF     TBB 


we  may  recur  to  scripture  :  sev- 
eral passages  of  which  appear  ap- 
plicable to  that  purpose. 

*'  It  seldom  happens  that  natural 
philosophy  is  made  to  borrow  as- 
sistance from  thence  :  but  though 
scripture  may  not  be  intended  to 
instruct  us  in  the  philosophy  of 
materiai^nature,  it  may  neverthe- 
less give,  and  be  intended  to  give, 
some  hints  of  its  constitution,  or 
general  system." 

The  passage,  first  adduced  as 
evidence  of  the  author's  hypothe- 
sis, is,  he  observes,  ^  a  remarkable 
one,  and  may  serve  in  some  mea- 
sure to  elucidate  the  rest."  «  It 
U  God  that  builded  hU  atoriea  in  the 
heavcna*** 

From  the  preceding  extracts, 
some  idea  may  be  formed  of  the 
hypothesis  of  an  all-surrounding 
orb,  the  g^und  on  which  it  rests, 
and  the  author's  view  of  certain 
phoenomena.  This  hypothesis  is 
proposed  for  consideration  in  a 
manner  well  calculated  to  engage 
the  attention,  and  secure  the  can- 
dour of  the  reader.  We  have 
been  entertained  in  the  perusal, 
though  our  ideas  do  not  coincide 
with  the  author's  in  all  his  reason- 
ings and  conclusions.  By  enlarg- 
ing the  powers  of  telescopes  and 
extending  our  views  into  the  celes- 
tial regions,  we  find  new  evidence 
in  fiivour  of  the  opinion,  that  the 
lucid  appearance  of  the  milky  way 
and  some  other  parts  of  the  etheri- 
al  expanse,  arises  from  the  blend- 
ed light  of  stars,  and  new  reason 
to  doubt  the  reality  of  a  solid  sur- 
rounding orb.  Observation  and 
theory  render  it  probable,  that  suf- 
ficient  provision  is  made  for  pre- 
serving the  harmony  of  the  mo- 
tions in  the  various  systems,  which 
compose  the  universe,  without  the 
supposed  external,  endotiDg  coun- 


terbalfoice.  But  if  we  cannot  dts« 
cover  sufficient  reason  to  admit 
this  supposition  as  a  constituent 
part  of  the  fabrick  of  science,  we 
think  it  merits  a  respectable  place 
in  her  collection  of  curious  hy- 
potheses, formed  by  eminent 
men. 

IV»  An  account  of  a  very  un" 
common  darknesM  in  the  states  qf 
Mw'England^  May  19,  1780.  By 
Samuel  WilUamB^  A.  M.  HoUia  Pro^ 
feasor  of  Mathematicka  and  PMlosO' 
fihy  in  the  University  at  Cambridge^ 

The  extraordinary  darkness  of 
the  1 9th  of  May,  1780,  cannot  be 
easily  forgotten  by  those  who  ob- 
served it.  We  are  happy  to  see 
an  account  of  that  phoenomenon 
preserved,  which  we  think  will  be 
read  with  no  small  interest  by  the 
lovers  of  natural  knowledge.  The 
facts,  which  Dr.  Williams  had 
been  able  to  collect,  are  related 
with  clearness  and  the  general 
principles  of  the  explanation  ap- 
pear to  us  to  be  satisfiictory. 

According  to  this  statement,  the 
unusual  darkness  began  between 
10  and  1 1  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
and  continued  till  midnight  ;•— 
from  the  accounts  received  the  ex- 
act boundaries  of  it  could  not  be 
determined,  but  it  seemed  to  have 
extended  through  the  New-Eng- 
land states.  There  was  some  va- 
riety in  the  appearances,  the  de- 
gree of  darkness,  and  probably  ia 
the  duration  at  different  places  ;— 
<<  in  most  parts  of  the  country  peo- 
ple were  unable  to  riead  common 
print ;  determine  the  time  of  day 
by  their  clocks  or  watches  ;  dine, 
or  manage  their  domestick  busi- 
ness without  the  light  of  candles  ;'* 
the  colour  of  the  clouds  appeared 
to  be  a  mixture  of  fiunt  ned,  yellow 
and  brown,  ahd  hK>st  other  objects 
appeared  to  be  tinged  with  yellow  ; 
thunder  was  heard  in  the  mom* 


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AMERICAN   ACADEMY. 


301 


ing,  and  rain  fell  in  small  showefs, 
■which  appeared  to  be  thick,  dark, 
and  sooty,  VLpd  on  the  surface  of  it, 
when  received  in  vessels,  as  well 
as  on  that  ipf  rivers,  &c.  a  light 
scum  was  observed,  which  on  ex- 
amination was  found  to  be  the 
black  ashes  ot  burnt  leaves  ;  in 
some  places  the  vapours  seem-> 
ed  to  Ve  ascending  ;  "  in  most  de- 
scendiiig  ;  and  in  all  very  near  to 
the  surface  of  the  earth  ;"  "  the 
a/i/ieara?ice  and  effects  were  such 
as  tended  to  make  the  prospect  ex- 
trenifrly  dull  and  gloomy  ;  candles 
were  lighted  up  in  the  houses  ; 
the  birds  having  sung  their  even- 
ing songs,  disappeared  and  became 
silent  ;  the  fowls  retired  to  roost ; 
the  cocks  were  crowing  all  around 
as  at  break  of  day  ;  objects  could 
not  be  distinguished  but  at  a  very 
little  distance,  and  every  thing 
borfe  the  appearance  and  gloom  of 
night/' 

A  general  view  of  the  cause  of 
this  wonderful  darkness  is  exhibit- 
ed in  the  following  extract. 

**  It  is  well  known  that  in  this 
part  of  America,  it  is  customary  to 
make  large  fires  in  the  woods,  for 
the  purpose  of  clearing  the  lands 
in  the  new  settlements.  This  was 
the  case  this  spring,  in  a  much 
greater  degree  than  is  common. 
In  the  county  of  York,  in  the  west- 
em  parts  of  the  state  of  New- 
Hampshire,  in  the  western  parts 
of  this  state,  and  in  Vermont,  un- 
commonly large  and  extensive 
fires  had  been  kept  up.  •  Tlie  peo- 
ple in  the  new  towns  had  been 
employed  in  clearing  up  their 
lands  in  this  way  for  two  or  three 
weeks  before  ;  and  some  large  and 
extensive  fires  had  raged  in  the 
Woods  for  several  days  before  they 
could  be  extinguished.  In  addi- 
tion therefore,  to'what  arises  from 
evaporation,  and  those  exhalations 
which  are   constant   and  nnturalj 

Vol.  III.  Ncr.  4.         2B 


a  much  larger  quantity  of  vapour 
arose  fix)m  those  large  and  numer- 
ous fires  which  extended  all  a- 
round  our  frontiers.  As  the  weath- 
er had  been  clear,  the  air  heavy, 
and  the' winds  small  and  variable 
for  several  days  ;  the  vapours  in- 
stead of  dispersing,  must  have 
been  rising  and  constantly  collect- 
ing in  the  air,  until  the  atmos- 
phere became  highly  charged  with, 
an  uncommon  quantity  of  them» 
floating  near  the  surface  of  the 
earth."  ^ 

To  this  account  is  annexed  some 
information,  principally  taken  from 
the  English  Philosophical  Trans- 
actions, respecting  instances  of  ex- 
traordniary  darkness,  which  in 
former  times  had  been  observed  in 
America. 

K  An  account  of  the  effects  of 
tightnijig  on  two  houses  in  the  city 
of  Philadelfihia,  By  the  Hon.  Ar^ 
thur  Lee,  Esq,  F,  A.  A, 

The  lightning,  which  produced 
the  effects  here  described,  happen- 
ed in  the  summer  of  1781.  One 
of  the  houses  was  unprotected  by , 
a  conductor  j  and  the  copper  poin^ 
of  the  conductor  of  the  other  ap- 
peared, on  examination,  to  have 
been  melted,  at  some  preceding 
time,  into  a  form,  resembling  that 
of  a  button.  The  lower  end  of  this 
conductor  was  about  two  feet  be- 
low the  surface  of  the  ground.  In 
eacli  case  the  fluid  appeared  to 
have  passed  through  a  considera- 
ble extent  of  the  building  by.  one 
or  more  bell-wires,  which,  though 
melted  in  some  parts,  answered 
the  purpose  of  conducting  the 
charge  ;  the  falling  however  of  the 
fused  metal  on  the  floor  occasion- 
ed the  burning  of  holes  in  it.  The 
course  and  efl'ecls  of  the  lightning 
in  one  of  the  houses  is  particular- 
ly marked  by  a  figure. 

In  some  remarks,  suggested  by  ' 


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the  facts  he  had  related,  Mr.  Lee 
justly  observes,  that  belUwires  in 
a  house  *'  ought  always  to  be  dis- 
posed with  a  view  to  the  possibili- 
ty of  their  becoming  conductors.'* 
And,  ^  that  the  points  of  conduc* 
tors  should  be  examined  from 
lime  to  time.^ 

FL  An  account  of  the  effects 
^f  Ughtfdng  on  o  iargc  rock  in 
GlouccatcT.  By  the  Reverend  Eli 
Forbe: 

The  tunc^  when  lightning  pro- 
duced the  effects  here  descri- 
bed, was  the  lath  of  March,  1782. 
The  content  of  the  rock  above  the 
ground,  on  which  the  discharge 
was  made  near  the  top,  is  almost 
ten  fcct.  The  lightning,  having 
broken  off  about  20  pounds  of  the 
lock,  and  beside  cracked  it  in  sev- 
eral directions  to  a  small  extent, 
was  divided  into  three  parts,  which 
passed  off  in  different  directions, 
each  producing  effects,  that  were 
▼ery  strOdng.  Dr,  Forbes  appears 
m>  have  examined  these  effects 
with  close  attention,  and  to  have 
de8crS>ed  them  with  great  accu- 
racy. He  has  illustrated  them  by 
a  figure.  They  were  indeed  ex- 
tra^tlinary. 

It  is  very  much  to  be  wished, 
that  whenever  lightning  strikes  an 
€lbject  on  the  earth,  some  person, 
who  lives  near  it,  would  examine 
the  visible  traces,  and  communi- 
cate all  the  facts,  which  he  can 
ascertain,  to  the  Academy  or  some 
other  society,  that,  if  valuable,  they 
may  become  publick,  and  may  be 
applied,  as  bs  as  ther  nature  will 
admit,  to  the  purpose  of  improv- 
ing our  knowledge  on  this  high- 
ty  important  subject. 

VIL  An  account  qf  a  very  CU' 
rious  apfiearance  qf  the  electrical 
Jtidd^  produced  by  raiaing  an  elec* 
tricai  kite  in  the  time  ^f  a  thunder^ 


ehower.      By    Lodtnmi    Baldwin, 
Esq.  F,  A,  A, 

In  tills  experiment,  performed 
in  the  summer  of  1 77 1 ,  an  elec- 
trical kiie  was  elevated  to  the 
height  of  some  tall  trees,  or  per- 
haps somewhat  above  them,  at  a 
time,  when  the  upper  edge  of  a 
highly  charged  cloud,  rising  from 
the  north-west,  had  reached  the 
altitude  of  55*  or  €0».  Col.  Bald- 
win was  soon  surrounded  with  the 
appearance  of  a  fiery  atmosphere, 
or  bright  flame  of  fire,  with  some 
faint  flashes,  visible  to  himself  and 
other  persons  at  a  smaH  dbtance. 
This  electrical  phenomenon  con- 
tinued to  increase  and  extend  it- 
self till,  the  cloud  having  nearly 
obscured  the  heavens  about  the 
zenith,  the  kite  was  drawn  down. 
The  experimenter  however  was 
subjected  to  no  inconvenience  but 
surprise,  and  a  degree  of  debUity> 
which,  he  thinks,  that  surprbe 
might  po8si>ly  have  occasioned. 

VIII.  Ohaervatiome  and  conjee* 
tterea  on  the  earthquakes  of  Ah»- 
England,  By  Prqfeasor  fVil-* 
Barney  F,  A,  A. 

The  design  m  writing  this  trea- 
tise and  the  plan  of  it  are  exhib- 
ited in  the  following  extract,which 
is  the  first  paragraph  of  it. 

^  In  looking  over  some  of  the 
histories  of  New-England,  I  ob- 
served, that  the  religions  turn  of 
mindjwhich  distinguished  the  first 
planters  of  New -England,  had  led 
them  to  take  notice  of  all  the 
earthquakes  which  happened  m 
the  country  after  their  arrival. 
Several  of  thtm  seemed  to  be 
pretty  well  described  ;  and  in 
some  of  their  phenomena  there 
seemed  to  ^  an  agreement.  As 
several  of  these  accounts  were 
contained  in  writings  but  little 
known,  I  thought  it  might  be  of 
some  senice  to  pliilosophy,  if  a 


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AMKmiCAV  ACADEMY. 


20^ 


particular  account  of  them  could 
be  collected.  This  is  what  I  have 
attempted  in  the  following  treatise. 
In  the  Jiru  fiart  of  it  I  have  set 
down  the  most  particular  accounts 
1  could  find  of  their  phenomena. 
The  second  contains  observations 
and  remarks  upon  their  Agreement 
and  operations.  In  the  ttdrd^ 
conjectures  are  proposed  as  to 
their  causes  :  and  in  the  fourth^ 
some  general  reflections  are  added 
as  to  their  nature,  use,  and 
effects." 

In  the  first  part,  Dr.  Williams 
gives  a  narrative  of  the  principal 
^ts  relative  to  the  earthquakes  in 
New-England,  from  1$38,  when 
the  first  happened,  which  was  ob^ 
served  by  our  ancestors,  after  their 
landing  at  Plyniiouth,  to  17«3  in^ 
elusive.  Five  of  these  were  much 
greater  than  the  reat  ;  namely 
the  earthquakes  of  1658,  1658, 
1663,  ir27,  and  1755  ;  the  last  of 
which  was  the  greatest. 

In  the  observations  and  remarls 
it  is  said,  that  all  the  earthquakes 
which  have  happened  in  this  coun- 
try, are  of  the  same  kind,  having 
an  itndulatory  motion  ;  that  their 
general  cQurae  is  nearly  from  the 
north-west  to  the  sputh-east  ;  that 
their  origin  was  probably  at  a  con^ 
siderable  (Ji$tanct  from  NewrEng- 
land  in  a  northrwestem  direction  ; 
that  "  tp  the  south-west?  they  have 
several  times  reached  as  fur  as 
Maryland ;  but  never  so  far  as 
Vir^nia  or  Carolina  ;  to  thd  north«> 
east,  they  have  been  bounded  by 
M'jvarSco:ia  ;  having  never  been 
fdt  much  further  than  Halifcuc  ; 
from  the  unknown  land^,  at  the 
north-west,  they  hav.c  gone  off 
souji-cttst  into  the  Atlantrc  :  their 
extent  this  way, being grpater than 
We  are  nble  to  trace  on  either 
point  of  the  compass,'' — that  as 
ixT  as  can  be  gathered  from  the 
accounts,  it  seems  probable,  that 


most  of  the  great  shocks  have 
reached  to  much  the  same  places : 
the  small  ones,  indeed,  liave  not 
had  such  an  extent ;  being  felt 
only  in  different  provinces  and 
towns,*V-that  there  are  no  facts, 
by  which  the  velocity  of  these 
earthquakes  can  be  determined^— 
that  the  intervals  of  time  between 
their  occurrences  are  very  une- 
qual and  irregular,  and  that 
earthquakes  seem  to  have  no  con- 
neciioii  with  any  thing  4hat  falls 
under  our  observation.    / 

With  respect  to  the  causes  <^ 
the  earthquakes  of  New-England, 
it  is  inferred  from  the  facts  before 
stated,  that  they  "  have  been  pro- 
duced iqr  something  which  has 
moved  along  under  the  surface  of 
the  earthf*  "  What  thus  moved 
junder^  and  hove  vp  the  surface  of 
the  earth,  was  probably  a  strong 
rlaatick  vafiouvy** — *<  a  fluid  of  th« 
same  nature  as  that  which  is  now 
called  inflammable  air** 

In  the  opinion  of  this  author 
^  the  contents  of  the  earth  will  ao- 
count  for  the  origin^  and  the  struc* 
ture  of  it  will  account  for  the  mo- 
tion and  direction  of  a  subterra- 
neous vapoiw." 

Under  the  head  of  general  re- 
flections on  earthquakes,  it  is  ob- 
served, "  U"  we  are  right  in  our 
conjectures  on  the  causes  of  earth- 
quakes, we  may  conclude,  that  the 
gldje  always  has  been,  and  will  be 
subject  to  such  ^concussions,"— * 
that,  *'  nolv.itlistanding  all  their 
tenible  effects,  earthquakes  seem 
to  he  a  necessary  consequence  of 
such  laws  of  nature,  and  powers 
in  matter,  as  are,  upon  the  whole, 
greatly  bej>eficial  to  thu  globe,"— 
that  "  these  extensive  and  power- 
ful  agitations  tend*  to  Weaken  the 
attrac'iion,  loosen,  the  parts,  and 
open  the  pores  of  the  earth  ;  and 
thtis  to  fit  and  prepare  it  for  the 
purposes  of  vegetation,  and  for  thi^ 


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204, 


MEMOIRS   OF   THE   AMERICAN   ACADEMY. 


various  kinds  of  produce  that  are 
necessary  for  the  support  of  an- 
imal life,"-^that  "  we  have  no 
way  to  form  any  rational  con- 
clusions as  to  the  time  when  an 
earthquake  will  happen,  from  any 
inferences  founded  on  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  nature  and  operations 
of  their  causes  ;  nor  can  we  re* 
ceivc  much,  if  any,  help  fi-om  any 
firecedififf  wgTifi,"— that  "  it  must," 
however,  "be  supposed,  that  earth- 
quakes (like  all  other  events  that 
depend  on  natural  causes)  are  sub- 
ject to  certain  and  determined 
Jaws  and  rules,  which  are  in  them- 
selves constant,  regular,  and  har- 
inoniousy— whether  these  laws,  or 
this  regularity,  be  known  to  us  of 
not  ;" — that  "  it  ^yas  no  doubt 
with  a  view  ultimately  to  moral 
fiuT^ioses,  that  the  laws  of  nature 
were  first  established  :  and  noth; 
ing  can  be  better  adapted  than 
niany  of  their  operations,  to  awak- 
en and  direct  the  attention  of  man- 
kind to  the  supreme  governour  of 
the  world,"— and  that  «  of  his  fa- 
vour mpitals  may  be  sure,  so  long 
as  they  maintain  a  steady  regard 
to  the  rules  of  virtue." 

We  could  with  pleasure  make 
much  larger  extracts  from  this 
very  valuable  Memoir,  did  we  not 
fear,  that  the  present  article  would 
then  be  too  long.  Earthquakes 
inake  most  awful  impressions  on 
the  mind,  i^nd  excite  an  ardent  de- 
sire to  be  particularly  acquainted 
with  the  nature'and  effects  of  those 
of  our  own  country,  to  which  we 
are  exposed.  Wc  have  perused 
the  account  before  us  with  much 
isatisfaction.  It  contains  many  im- 
portant facts,  many  ingenious  con- 
jectures, many  excellent  reflec- 
tions. 

IX,     An  account  of  West-River 
^Jount^m^   and  the   appearance  qf 


there  having  been  a  volcano  in  it. 
By  Daniel  Jones ^  Esq, 

West-river  mountain  is  in  the 
state  of  New-Hampshire,  on  the 
eastern  bank  of  Connecticut  river, 
opposite  to  the  mouth  of  West- 
river.  Mr.  Jones  is  of  opinion, 
that  there  has  been  an  eruption  on 
the  south  side  of  this  mountain 
about  eighty  yards  from  the  top. 
Some  people  in  the  vicinity,  hop- 
ing  to  find  gold,  have  there  dug  to 
the  depth  of  seventy  or  eighty 
feet.  "  The  external  parts  of  the 
hole  are  entirely  rock,  and  in 
many  places  much  burnt  and  sof- 
tened. There  are  small  holes  in 
various  places  of  the  rock,  where 
they  dig,  like  the  arch  of  an  oven, 
and  the  rock  seems  to  be  dissolved 
by  heat  ;  the  cinders  and  melted 
dross  adhere  to  it,  and  hang  down 
in  drops  like  small  icicles,  some- 
thing resembling  in  colour  the 
cinders  of  a*  furnace,  or  black 
glass,  and  it  }s  so  fastened  to  the 
rock,  that  It  appears  as  if  it  was 
originally  part  of  the  same."  . .  . 
"  At  the  mouth  of  the  hole,  there 
was  blown  out  melted  dross,  which 
stuck  to  the  rocks  ;  and  in  the  hole 
were  found  various  pieces  of  stone, 
which  appeared  to  be  dissolved  by 
fire,  and  the  sidpsof  the  rock  black- 
ened by  fire  ;  so  tliat  this  hole 
must  have  been  filled  ^p  since  the 
eruption  took  place."     ' 

Such  are  the  prpdpal  appear; 
ances,  observed  on  the  mountain, 
Which  seemed  to  indicate  that 
there  had  beep  volcanick  eruptions. 
And  great  qiiantities  of  stone,  fall- 
en or  thro\vn  from  the  mountain, 
are  thought  to  furnish  evidence  of 
explosions  or  violent  agitations. 

Beside  the  evidence,  that  arises 
from  the  present  appeai-ance,  there 
was  also  information  from  some 
old,  credible  people,  who  had  livecl 
opposite   to   the    mountain,  that 


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MIATTON's   view  of   SOUTH-CAROLINA. 


'205 


there  had  been  frequent  explosions 
in  it,  and  emissions  of  fire  and 
smoke.  The  last  explosion,  that 
the  author  recollects,  happened,  as 
he  observes,  about  five  or  six  years 
before  the  date  of  this  account, 
Nov.  2,  1783.  The  noise  resem- 
bled that  of  an  earthquake,  and  the 
earth  trembled  considerably  where 
he  was,  at  a  distance  of  four  or 
five  miles. 

X.  An  account  ofcrufitiona^  and 
the  present  afifiearance  in  West" 
River  Mountain,  By  Mr,  Caleb 
MejcoTuier, 

IVIr.  Alexander  observed  ap- 
pearances on  this  mountain  simi- 
lar to  thosei  described  by  Mr. 
Jones  in  the  last  Memoir.  He  is 
however  of  opinion,  that  there 
have  been  eruptions  of  fire  at  two 
places. 

According  to  information,  that 
had  been  received,  explosions  had 
been  heard  as  loud  as  the  report 
of  a  cannon  ;....at  other  times 
they  had  been  heard  at  the  distance 
of  fourteen  or  fifteen  miles  ;...that 
violent  eruptions  of  fire  had  been 
observed  several  times,  when  the 
flame  ascended  to  a  great  height 
in  the  air. 


ART.   17. 

w4  viev>  of  South  Carolinft^  as  rf^ 
sfiects  her  natural  and  ciruil  con- 
cerns. By  John  Drayton,  1802, 
Charleston,  W.  P.  Young.  8i/o. 

\  vol.  fi/i,  252,      ' 

Works  of  this  nature  havp  been 
so  multiplied  in  Europe,  from  the 
importance  which  every  one  be^ 
lieves  his  own  city  and  district  to 
possess,  and  are  produced  with  so 
Jittle  labour,  that  it  is  necessary  to 
guard  against  the  introduction  of 
pus  evil  into  our  own  country.    A 


few  tables  of  probable  population, 
of  weather,  imports  and  exports, 
with  descriptions  of  the  publick 
buildings,have  swollen  the  account 
of  a  commercial  town  into  a  huge 
quarto  ;  and  as  the  authors  of 
such  works  convey  so  much  in- 
formation to  the  publick,  they" 
think  themselves  licensed  to  neg- 
lect every  ornament ;  though  even 
novels,  at  present  deemed  the 
meanest  articles  in  the  shop  of  lit- 
erature, are  supposed  to  be  adorn- 
ed with  the  beauties  of  language, 
and  variety  of  incidents.  Statis- 
ticks,  as  they  aflford  the  only  means 
of  judging  correctly  of  the  pros- 
perity of  a  country,  of  its  rise  and 
decline,  are  extremely  useful ;  and 
though  they  will  not  admit  all  the 
beauties  of  imagery,  do  not  refuse 
all  ornament.  A  work  of  this 
kind  should  contain  much  new  in- 
formation ;  and  facts  should  be 
so  well  authenticated  as  to  support 
the  conclusions,  that  are  drawn 
from  them.  We  hope  our  readers 
will  be  able  to  judge  from  the 
following  account,  how  far  Mr. 
Draytox^  has  succeeded  in  these 
points. 

We  shall  forbear  to  speak  of 
the  inelegapce,  if  not  impropriety 
of  the  title  ;  and  shall  only  ob- 
serve, that  it  is  sufficiently  general 
io  include  every  thing  that  can  be 
said  of  South-Carolina.  Our  au- 
thor divides  his  work  into  three 
chapters,  the  first  of  which  con- 
tains the  geography  and  natural 
history  of  South^Carolina,  which  is 
again  subdivided  into  "  situation, 
and  by  what  authority  ;  discovery, 
and  name  j  face  of  the  country  ; 
mountains  ;  climate  ;  diseases  ; 
rivers,  lakes,  and  water  courses  ; 
minerals,  springs,  cascades,  and 
natural  curiosities  ;  productions 
vegetable  and  animal."  Of  these 
our  author  treats  in  their  order, 
and  prefixes  to  tlie  whole  a  short 


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U06 


J)BAYTOK*S  VIEW  0» 


iDtroduction,  turgidt  obscure,  and 
full  of  forced  epithet^.  In  speak- 
ing of  the  fece  of  the  coiintry,  he 
divides  S.CaroUna  into  three  di* 
visions  ;  the  upper,  above  the  falls 
^f  the  rivers,  contains  9450  square 
miles.  The  middle  and  lower,  di- 
vided from  each  other  by  the  sand 
hills,  contain  U510.  The  coun- 
try rises  gradually  from  the  sea 
for  eighty  miles,  and  is  an  exten- 
sive plain,  except  where  intersects 
ed  by  water,  producing  nothing 
but  pines,  and  thence  denominated 
pine  barren.  These  pine  barrens 
are  devoid  of  underwood,  being 
frequently  burnt  for  the  purpose 
of  producing  early  spring  pastur- 
age* Upon  the  numerous  creeks 
itnd  rivers,  which  divide  this  plain, 
are  rich  and  fertile  savannahs,  al- 
most the  only  lands  cultivated  in 
the  lower  division.  The  best  rice 
plantations  are  made  on  these 
marshes,  where  the  tidei^ows,  but 
above  where  the  salt  watjer  rises. 
They  require  no  manure,  and  are 
inexhaustible.  He  neglects  how- 
ever to  inform  us,  that  some  gen^ 
tiemcn  have  converted  their  salt 
marshes  into  rice  plantations,  by 
raising  dykes  for  the  exclusion  of 
the  salt  water,  and  bringing  in  a 
trough  or  canal  fresh  water  iHom 
the  river  above.  After  a  few 
years,  these  are  found  equally  pro^ 
ductive  with  the  fresh  marshes. 

The  middle  country  resembles 
the  lower,  the  banks  of  the  rivers 
being  alone  profitable  to  cultivate. 

The  upper  country  is  diversified 
like  trie  northern  states  into  hill 
and  dale  ;  but  its  mountains  seem 
to  raise  our  author  from  the  hum- 
ble style,  he  had  before  used.  He 
Carries  us  to  the  top  of  the  table 
mountain,  and  after  stating  it^ 
height  at  3168  feet,  the  highest 
mountain  in  the  state ;  and  showr 
ing  us  on  one  side  the  lover's  leap 
$00  feet  perpendiculari  he  mcnr 


tions  the  mountdns,  that  nay 
thence  be  seen  in  the  various  di- 
rections, and  adds,  ^  To  the  east 
and  south-east  the  eye  may  range 
without  any  other  control,  th^ 
what  the  unerring  laws  of  nature 
ha^e  ordained  in  the  curvature  of 
the  globe.  Thirty  fiurms  or  more 
are  hence  dutinguished  by  the  na- 
ked eye  at  any  one  view ;  the 
mountsons  wind  along  in  elevated 
majesty,  and  roaring  cataracts, 
leaping  from  rock  to  rock,  hasten 
down  their  ddea  to  ran  vttfa  more 
gentle  Btreama  along  the  vales  be« 
low."  When  "  elevaited  for  above 
thes|Aereof  hnmoi  Ufe,"  as  he 
afterwards  expresses  himseif,  ^bf 
the  cloods,  whkh  sweep  below 
him,"  he  discovers  thirty  forms  or 
more,  we  can  only  compare  hira 
to  the  hawk,  who,  striviog  to  soar 
above  the  towering  eagle,  is  drawn 
from  Ins  lofty  light  to  sets  some 
lUtk  Urd  below.  The  rest  of  his 
description  it  extremely  fmerik. 
He  represents  the  cliraate  of  the 
vUppcr  country  as  foie  and  wholes 
some  ;  but  says  that,  firom  the 
great  quantities  of  stagnant  waters 
in  the  )ower  parts  of  the  state 
producing  many  reptiles  and  in- 
sects, ^  it  is  not  surprising  that 
the  hot  months  should  be  chequer- 
ed with  sickness."  We  regret 
that  neither  here,  ^r  under  the 
head  of  diseases,  he  has  given  us  a 
table  of  births  and  deaths,  for  his 
account  U  much  (tpo  general  to 
remove  the  common  impression, 
that  the  climate  is  extremely  un- 
friendly |Lo  the  constitution  of  the 
whites.  The  table  of  diseases 
may.  give  an  idea  of  the  destroying 
angePs  form  ;  but  not  of  the  ex- 
ertions of  his  powers.  After  de- 
scribing the  dreadful  whirlwinds 
and  hail  storms  that  are  experienc- 
ed in  this  state,  he  attempts  to 
prove,  that  they  owe  their  origin 
(0  the  aituati<»i  of  South  Carolina 


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socrra-cASOLfifiu 


wr 


in  the  temperate  tooit^  near  the 
tornd.  He  shovild  first,  however, 
have  proved  to  us,  that  these  dread* 
ful  scourges  were  not  feh  in  anf 
other  shmtion ;  and  then  we  might 
be  disposed  to  fisten  to  his  argo« 
ment.  Nor  would  he  hare  thoaght 
the  climate  of  that  state  peculiarlf 
variable,  because  the  therxnometer 
has  Taried  83*  in  one  season ;  if 
he  had  known  that  it  had  been  in 
Maine  ^(f*  below  the  cypher  in 
winter,  and  at  near  an  100*  above 
it  in  summer.  He  gives  an  opki- 
ion,  that  the  cfimate  amdiorates ; 
but,  sensible  that  he  does  not  pro- 
duce sufibient  authority  to  support 
the  opinicHi,  he  seems  cautious  in 
risking  It.  Hb  tables  of  weather 
are  only  of  the  extremes  of  heat  and 
eold,fbr  ten  years  from  1750,  and 
eight  3rears  from  1791,  and  of  rain 
for  7  years  from  1795.  By  which 
it  appears,  that  in  the  above  years, 
the  thermometer  was  but  once 
above  96*,  and  seldom  bek>w  22* 
above  the  cjrpher  ;  and  that  the 
ram  in  the  above  years  varied  from 
42,9  to  75,4  inches.  Our  author 
passes  from  climate  and  ^seases 
to  rivers,  &c,  ;  but  he  treats  with 
no  more  respect,  the  bread  and 
extensive  Savannah  and  Santee, 
than  he  does  the  minor  streams  of 
Ashley  and  Edisto.  The  tides  ex- 
tend op  the  rivers  about  80  miles ; 
but  in  the  Santee  not  more  than 
15.  On  the  coast  they  rise  from 
6  to  lOfeet,  but  are  much  influenc- 
ed by  the  wind.  Nothing  but  the 
desire  of  mentioning  every  thing, 
could  have  induced  our  author  to 
speak  of  lakes;  a  pond  of  less  than 
a  mile  in  circumference  being  the 
only  thing  resembling  them  in  the 
state.  Rfteen  pages  are  employ- 
ed upon  fossils,  minerals,  &c^  when 
as  Q^ny  lines  would  have  decribed 
the  whole.  He  speaks  at  length 
of  some  mammoth  bones  deposit- 
^  in  the  Chai'leston  museum,  and 


upon  the  authority  of  Mr.  JcfTer- 
son  decides  them  to  be  similar  to 
those  fotmd  in  Siberia,  and  then^ 
with  much  faigenuity,  conjures  up> 
Srst  the  theory  of  the  zones  having 
exchanged  places  from  the  moving; 
of  the  ecfiptick ;  then  Mr.Buffon'i 
theory  of  the  earth's  having  at 
first  been  fluid  from  heat,  and  hav- 
hig,  in  the  true  spirit  of  qnixotlsmy  ' 
combatted  these  theories  to  his 
own  satisfaction,  he  at  leng&  dis- 
covers that  they  only  «  spring  from 
the  bram  of  a  fertile  imagination.'* 
Not  contem  with  this  vktory,  he 
itpeaks  of  the  theories  of  other  nat- 
uralists, and  of  the  ice  islands  of 
St.  Pierre,  loaded  with  bears  and 
elephants  j  but  having  already  ex- 
hausted his  own  ingenuity,  he 
leaves  us  in  doubt,  to  overturn 
these  theories  ourselves,  if  T9t  e  are 
so  disposed.  Mill,  building,  and 
lime  stones,  ochres,  asbestos,  and 
slate  are  found  in  the  upper  par€» 
of  the  state  ;  and  he  wishes  that 
we  should  think,  that,  besides  iron 
and  lead,  they  possess  gold  and  siU 
ver,  yet  concealed  in  the  earth. 
His  botanical  catalogue  is  fuU, 
though  he  himself  tells  us,  it  is  not 
complete  ;  but  his  account  of  ani- 
mals is  only  a  short  list  of  names. 
Our  author  divides  his  second 
chapter  into  political  and  rural 
economy,  which  he  subdivides  Into 
^  population,  militftry  force,  ten- 
ures, value  of  estates  and  build- 
ings, agriculture,  manu£xcturcSf 
inland  nav^;atiQ0t  roads,  and  cora- 
merce."  Under  the  head  of  pop- 
ulation he  gives  a  long  and  unin* 
teresting  account  of  tlie  lodVuns, 
their  wars,  &c. ;  and  with  regard 
to  the  early  white  and  negro 
population  the  only  facts  estab- 
lished are,  that  white  popula- 
tion decreased  till  1734,  that  in 
1765  there  were  40,000  whitt-s, 
and  90,000  blacks,  end  that  in 
1800  there  were  1 90,^5$  whites. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


SOS 


daatton's  view  of 


149,336  blacks  in  South-Carolina. 
6ince  however  Mr.  D.  wrote,  the 
prohibition  against  the  importation 
of  slaves  has  been  taken  off ;  and 
in  the  years  1804  and  1805  there 
were  13,000  negroes  imported 
into  Carolina.  He  states  the  ef- 
fective militia  at  35,785,  of  which 
number  1743  arc  cavalry,  regular- 
ly armed,  trained,  and  uniformed. 
Lands  are  holden  originally  by 
grant  from  the  state,  and  now  con- 
veyed by  simple  deed.  Th  eir  val- 
ue must  of  course  vary  very  great- 
ly in  tliis  state.  Tide  swamp,  the 
best  land  for  rice,  is  woith,  if  cul- 
tivated, from  870  to  890  per  acre. 
The  income  of  the  planter  is  still 
more  unequal,  some  possessing 
880,000  and  others  only  840  per 
annum.  Our  author  then  passes 
to  agriculture,  a  subject  which  he 
seems  to  understand  much  better, 
than  any  other  in  his  book  ;  and 
though  what  he  says  upon  it  might 
have  been  comprised  m  one  third 
the  space  it  now  occupies,  much 
information  respecting  the  culture 
of  rice  and  cotton,  the  staple  arti- 
cles of  South-Carolina,  may  be  ob- 
tained by  those  unacquainted  with 
the  Southern  states.  A  table  is  ad- 
ded to  show  the  different  modes  of 
planting  rice  in  South -Carolina, 
Spain,  Egypt,  Sumatra,  and  China. 
He  is  particular  in  describing  the 
machines  for  preparing  those  ar- 
ticles for  market ;  but  does  not 
give  sufficient  praise  to  the  mw 
gin  for  cotton,  and  water  mill  for 
rice  lately  invented  ;  probably  be- 
cause they  are  as  yet  used  but  by 
few  persons.  To  the  reasons, 
which  he  gives  why  indigo  is  less 
cultivated  now  than  formerly,  he 
might  have  added,  that  its  prepara- 
tion is  extremely  unwholesome, 
even  to  the  negroes.  Nor  does 
he  inform  us,  that  oil  is  contained 
in  the  cotton  seed,  and  that,  tho' 
at  present  thrown  away,  yet  by 


experiment  it  has  yielded  a  gallon 
of  oil  to  a  bushel  of  seed.  At  the 
close  of  the  article  upon  agricul^ 
ture,  he  speaks  of  slavery  ;  and 
though  our  feelings  revolt  at  the 
attempt  to  justify  slavery,  yet  we 
must  have  the  candour  to  allow, 
that  he  has  represented  the  con- 
dition of  the  slaves  in  Soutli-Curo- 
Ima  without  prejudice.  An  ab^ 
horrence  of  slavery  has  led  us  to 
depict  the  wretched  negro,  groan- 
ing undier  the  task  of  an  inhuman 
overseer,  but  we  shall  subjoin  his 
account  of  them,  which  we  believe 
to  be  correct.  "  They  are  work- 
ed by  certain  tasks,  wliich  are  not 
unreasonable,  and  when  they  are 
diligent  in  performing  them,  they 
have  some  hours  of  the  day  to 
themselves.  Hence  they  are  en- 
couraged to  plant  for  their  own 
emolument,  raise  poultry  for  their 
own  use,  or  for  sale  ;  and  are  pro- 
tected in  the  property  which  they 
thus  acquire.  With  good  masters 
they  are  happy  and  contented,  and 
instances  are  known,  where  they 
have  declined  an  offered  freedom. 
It  is  prohibited  by  law  to  work 
them  more  than  certain  hours  in 
the  day,  during  different  portions 
of  the  year  ;  and  their  owners  arc 
liable  to  a  penalty,  if  they  do  not 
feed  them  in  a  suitable  manner. 
Should  they  treat  them  cruelly 
they  are  amenable  to  tlic  laws." 
He  might  have  added,  that  the 
fear  of  becoming  infanK)Us,  a  much 
more  powerful  motive  than  any 
positive  law,  obliges  the  gentle- 
men of  Carolina  to  whom  the 
greatest  part  of  the  slaves  belong, 
to  treat  them  with  humanity.  He 
is  correct  in  saying,  that,  without 
negroes,  part  of  South-Carolina 
must  still  have  remained  deep 
swamps  and  dreary  forests.  The 
manufactures  of  So utli -Carolina 
deserve  not  the  little  that  our  au- 
thor says  of  tlicm.     Of  the  canals 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


or  SOCTH^CAROLlHAv 


S09 


he  mentions  the  Catawba  and  San* 
tee  have  alone  been  commenced, 
and  the  latter  is  the  only  one  yet 
6nished.  The  Santee  canal  was 
begun  in  1793,  and  finished  in 
1800,  at  an  expense  of  about 
150,0001.  sterling  ;  and  in  the 
spring  of  1804  there  had  been  no 
dividend  *,  but  a  hope  was  enter* 
tained,  that  the  following  year 
they  should  divide  1  per  cent. 
Both  these  canals  received  en^ 
couragement  from  the  legislature. 
No  one  who  has  ever  travelled 
hi  South  Carolina  can  believe  our 
author's  account  of  the  roads  a* 
gainst  the  evidence  of  his  senses, 
which  pronounce  them  infamous. 
Nor  under  the  present  existing 
laws  can  they  possibly  be  better  ; 
but  the  traveller  will  join  with  him 
in  hoping,  that  the  day  will  come 
when  bridges  shall  be  more  fre- 
quent, than  thev  are  at  present  ; 
and  that  the  spirit  of  the  people 
will  allow  tolls  to  be  imposed.  Un- 
der the  article  of  commerce  he 
gives  a  great  number  of  tables  of 
imports  and  exports  at  different 
periods.  His  third  and  last  chap- 
ter is  divided  into  <<  Histories ; 
government  and  laws  ;  revenue  ; 
civil  divisions  ;  cities  and  towns  ; 
religion  i  charitable  societies  ;  lit- 
ierature  ;  modes  of  living ;  charac- 
ter and  diversions."  His  first  ar- 
ticle is  a  list  of  tl^  different  ac- 
counts of  South -Carolina,  that 
have  ever  been  published.  From 
the  Constitution  he  passes  to  the 
Wyesuet  which  he  represents  as 
jSoi^risbing.  It  is  derived  princi- 
|if^ly  Irofti  direct  taxes,  and  from 
fpe  iiiteipit  of  a  paper  medium 
'  d  of  the  debt  due  from  the 
^tatfi^.      His  account  of 

I M  long,  but  unintercst- 

ibg.  Cedrgetown  and  Beaufort 
■re  mere  Tillages,  and  the  other 
'towns  he  itMltbot  have  not  a  col- 
iK:tiim  of  mdottn  hotttes*    From 

Vol.  ni.  fJo.  4.     2C 


religion ,  of  which  he  says  only  a 
few  words,  he  passes  to  charitaj^le 
societies,  of  which  the  South-Car* 
olina  for  the  support  of  the  fami- 
lies and  the  education  of  the  chil- 
dren of  unfortunate  deceased  mem- 
bers, and  the  orphan  house,  are  the 
most  important.  The  article  of 
literature  should  have  been  en- 
titled education,  for  under  it  he 
speaks  of  nothing  but  schools  and 
colleges,  which  are  not  in  a  nour- 
ishing state.  The  South -Carolina 
college  at  Columbia  was  liberally 
endowed  in  1801  ;  and  the  ques- 
tion will  soon  be  determined,  whc- 
the  mind  is  capable  of  close  appli- 
cation to  study  in  that  climate  ; 
or  whether,  equally  enervated  with, 
the  body,  it  cannot  there  be  trained 
to  exertion.  In  delineating  the 
character  of  the  Carolinian,  our 
author  has  wholly  failed.  In  na 
state  in  the  union  are  the  manners 
of  the  different  classes  so  various  ; 
but  in  Mr.  D.'s  description  we 
perceive  not  the  marked  distinc- 
tion between  the  gentleman,  edu- 
cated in  Europe,  who  to  polished 
manners  unites  an  hospitality  un- 
known in  the  old  world  ;  and  the 
white  savage  of  the  borders,  who 
to  his  own  cunning  has  added  the 
fierceness  and  cruelty  of  his  neig:h- 
bour,  the  sable  aboriginal.  Nor 
do  we  see  a  middle  class  with  the 
want  of  feeling  of  the  lower  orders, 
and  the  pride  of  the  upper  j  or  the 
young  men  of  Charleston  immerg- 
ed  in  dissipation ,  and  instead  of 
imitating  the  urbane  manners,  and 
improving  by  the  conversation  of 
their  fiithere,  wasting  their  time 
in  foolish  revels  and  boyish  mis- 
chief. 

We  have  examined  this  work 
in  the  owler  of  its  arrangement, 
and  must  conclude,  that,  consid- 
ering the  opportunities,  which  our 
snthor  had  for  years  of  collecting 
loaita^ialsi  that  iie  has  afforded  ub 


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310 


BAmOIE's   ACCOUKT   OT 


very  little  infotTnation.  He  seems 
impressed  with  the  idea,  that  it 
was  necessary  to  write  on  every 
subject  connected  with  South-Car- 
olina, and  that  all  were  of  equal 
importance.  But  if  we  should 
grant  for  the  moment  that  his.  in- 
formation was  worth  publishing, 
we  would  confine*  him  to  those 
subjects  to  which  he  8eem6  com-* 
pelent,  and  to  those  tables  which 
may  serve  hereafter  as  useful  doc- 
uments. Instead  of  throwing 
light  upon  his  subject,  he  ft-equent^ 
Jy  rendei's  it  obscure  by  attempt- 
ing to  show  his  learnings  Hi« 
langU4ge  is  sometunes  incorrect. 
Be  is  constantly  used  for  ar^,  and 
substantives  receive  a  gender,when 
Ihey  are  not  meant  to  be  person!* 
fied.  Hi^  style  is  sometimes  obf 
scurc,  and  frequently  turgid,  par- 
ticularly when  he  aims  at  the  sub- 
lime. We  shaU  conclude  our 
review  with  a  quotation  from  his 
description  of  the  Cata\*ba  falls. 
.«  They  are  situated  a  little  above 
Rocky  Mount ;  and  the  approach 
to  them  is  over  hills  which  line 
the  sides  of  the  river.  On  either 
side  the  rocks,  are  piled  Dfxin  a 
wall  of  many  feet  high,  and  hills, 
rising  above  thenL  in  sharp  conical 
summits,  nod  over  the  rupture  be- 
low. Now  the  Catawba  is  arrest- 
ed in  its  course,  and  from,  a  width 
of  one  hundred  and  eighty  yards, 
tliis  river  is  forced  by  the  hills  and 
rocks  on  either  side  to  shoot  down 
the  gulph  in.  a  channel  of  only 
ninety-five  yards  wide^  Collecting- 
its  watei*s,  impetuous  and  noisy,  k 
thunders  down  the  fails ;  tumbling 
.over  massy  rocks^  and  foaming 
from  shore  to  shore  ;  wheeling 
its  large  whirlpools^  and  glancing 
from  rock  to  rock  with  maddening 
fury.  Nor  ceasing  its  troubled 
%vavesy  until  it  has  overleaped 
twenty  falls  in  the  distance  of  two 
and  aa  half  xniles}  and  has  precip- 


itated from  its  height,  a  depdi  of 
ninety  feet.  Here,  below  Rocky 
Mount,  it  begins  to  subside  v  and- 
spreads  over  a  channel  three  hun- 
dred and  eighteen  yards  wide  ; 
but  is  THii  composed.  For  miles 
belowy  rocks  are  scattered  in  its- 
way  ;  at  times  irritating  its  waters^ 
and  provokiAg  the  rapidity  of  its 
streanv.  So  a  preud  and  haughty 
disposition  cannot  bear  control  , 
but  rushes  onward  ^vith  unabating 
violence,  scorning  all  opposition 
which  is  surmountable,  repossess- 
ing its  tranquillity  by  slow  degrees  i 
and  becoming  again  incensed  with 
whatever  risi^  in  its  way." 

AUT.  18; 

jin  account  of  the  malignant  Jrver^ 
which  fircvailcd  in  the  city  of 
J\rt"w- Yorky  durifig  the  autumn  of 
1305.  Containing^  1.  The  pro- 
ceedings of  the  board  of  health  to 
prevent  the  introduction  qf  ma- 
Hgnant  fever,  2.  TheriiCiPro- 
gressy  and  decline  of  the  late  epi-^ 
demick.  3.  An  account  of  the 
Marine  and  BeUervue  hospitals^ 
luhh  the  number  qf  patients  re^ 
ceivedy  anct  dieatha  which  liave 
occurred^  at  each  of  these  eata-- 
b&slnnentSy  during  the  sickly  sea^ 
son,  4.  Record  of  deaths^  Ufc^ 
^c,  5.  Opinion  of  several  end'^ 
nent  physicians^  respecting  the 
cause  of  maUgnant  fever ^  in  sev* 
trai  different  parts  of  the  United 
States,  6,:  The  situation  qf  the 
convicts  in  the  state^prison^  with 
respect  to  health  during  the  last 
sttnuner,  7.  Desultory  observa-- 
tions  and  reflections.  8.  The 
various  modes  qf  cure  adopted 
in  the  maUgnant  fever.  By 
James  Hardie,  Sro.  pp,  196. 
New-York,  Southwrck  k  Hard- 
castle.     1805. 

IT  is  well  known  that  a  diTcrsi* 
ly  of  opimoQ  has  preyailed  amons. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


TlCa  MAUONANT  VEV^a. 


2U 


|>hysicians  Tcspecting  the  origin, 
nature,  and  treatment  of  Yellow 
l-^cvcr.  The  question  has  been 
agitated  an  a  manner  not  the  most 
•calm  and  dispassionate,  among 
fpentleraen  of  the  faculty  ;  at  the 
same  time,  many  of  their  fellow 
citizens  have  chosen  their  sides, 
and  their  co-opemUon  hasjiot  tend- 
ed to  diminish  thp  zeal  and  ani- 
mosity, vvith  which  the  -controver- 
sy has  been  supported.  It  has 
thus  been  rendered  unpleasant  for 
those  who  sought  truth  only  to 
canvas  the  subject. 

From  one  jwirty  we  are  told,  that 
the  disease  has  been  owing  to  the 
£Jth  of  our  cities^  and  to  the  nau- 
seous exhalations  from  our  docks ; 
and,  in  some  instances,  they  have 
even  pointed  to  the  particular 
heaps  of  dirt,  in  which  the  poison 
has  been  generated.  They  seem 
almost  to  have  seen  the  miasmata, 
with  so  much  familiarity  do  they 
talk  of  them. 

The  other  party  consider  all  this 
as  an  unjust  charge  of  the  evil  to 
a  country  too  new  and  pure,  and 
*madulterated,  and  fieaceabk^  to  be 
the  mother  of  a  disease  so  strong- 
ly n^arked,  and  of  wliich  the  char- 
acter is  so  malignant.  They  con- 
sider the  reputation  of  the  countiy, 
and,  in  many  instances,  of  the  par- 
ticular city  in  which  they  reside, 
as  injured  by  the  suggestion,  that 
this  disease  is  of  domestick  origin ; 
and  these  considerations  do  not 
make  them  listen  'with  the  more 
patience  to  the  statements  and  ar- 
guments of  their  adversaries. 

As  facts  have  been  stated  by  the 
different  parties,  they  have,  often- 
times, been  so  coloured  by  the 
prejudices  on  both  sides>  that  it 
has  become  almost  impossible  to 
discover  their  true  complexion. 
Meanwhile,  to  guard  against  the 
great  calamity,  the  judicious  have 
.cndeav^ttred  U>  remove  aU  those 


things,  charged  as  the  domestick 
sources  of  the,  disease,  xviid  at  the 
same  time  to  subject  to  qxiaranline 
all  persons  and  things ,  coming 
from  suspected  places,  at  <:eriain 
seasons. 

Such  has  been  the  conduct  oT 
the  legislature  of  the  state  of 
New  York.  They  have  authoris- 
ed the  establishment  of  a  board  of 
health,  in  their  metropofis,  with 
powers  to  guard  against  every  sup- 
posed source  of  the  disease.  ^  The 
powers  of  this  board  appear  to  be 
ample ;  and  it  caiuiot  be  doubted 
that  they  must  feel  disposed  to 
use  every  exertion  to  save  them^ 
selves  and  their  fellow  citizens  from 
this  common  scourge.  Notwith-r 
standing  their  efforts,  the  disease 
did  prevail  there  the  last  autumn. 
During  its  prevalence,  the  board 
of  health  was  necessarily  the  cen- 
tre of  information,  respecting  its 
origin  and  progress.  The  book 
before  us  was  writteo  by  the  sec- 
retary of  that  board.  It  was  sure- 
ly in  his  power,  probably  more 
than  in  any  other  man's,  to  com- 
mand all  the  materials  for  such  a 
work.  If,  therefore,  ^e  has  not 
told  the  truth,  the  whole  truth, 
and  nothing  but  the  truth,  his 
ciime  must  be  considered  nothing 
less  than  perjury. 

We  know  not  the  character  of 
Mr.  Hardie,  nor  have  we  looked 
for  information  on  this  subject 
from  any  other  quarter,  with  which 
his  may  be  compared.  For  the 
present  we  must  rely  on  the  gen- 
eral complexion  of  the  work,  aa 
the  ground  of  an  opinion.  From 
this  we  are  induced  to  believe,  that 
Mr.  H.  is  exceedingly  well  quali* 
fied  for  the  task  he  has  undertaken! 
and  that  he  has  executed  it  with 
accuracy  and  impartiality. 

The  first  chapter  of  this  work 
contains  an  account  of  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  board  of  he^th,  at 


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212 


HABDIE  8  ACCOUNT  OF 


New  York,  of  the  powers  with 
which  they  were  lit  vested,  and  of 
the  measures  they  adopted  to  pre- 
vent, and  afterwards  to  restrain 
and  mitigate  the  disease.  In  this 
chapter,  therefore,  we  find  an  ac- 
count of  the  first  appearances  of 
any  alarming  cases  of  fever  ;  and 
it  also  informs  us  of  the  extreme 
caution,  with  which  the  board  pro- 
ceeded, before  they  gave  &  publick 
alarm,  as  well  as  6f  their  fidelity 
in  reporting  truly  the  existence 
of  danger,-  when  that  was  duly  as- 
certained. From  that  time  they 
published  faithful  reports  ;  and 
while  the  rich  were  warned  to  re- 
move from  the  city,  an  asylum 
Was  opened  for  the  poor.  The 
propriety  of  such  conduct  needs 
Yiot  be  displayed. 

It  appears  that  the  first  case, 
which  was  called  yellow  fever  by 
any  person,  occurred  on  the  8th  of 
June.  From  the  9th  to  the  24th 
of  July  three  other  cases  occurred, 
which  vfrere  believed,  by  many,  to 
be  of  the  same  nature.  The  first 
case,  which  was  acknowledged  by 
both  parties  to  be  yellow  or  malig- 
nant fever,  was  that  of  James 
Dougherty.  This  occurred  on 
the  24th  of  July,  and  was  followed 
by  a  few  cases  in  August ;  but 
the  disease  was  not  epidemick 
till  September  5th.  Respect- 
ing Dougherty,  It  appeared,  that 
he  was  at  the  quarantine  ground 
on  the  3d  or  10th  of  July.  This 
gives  room  for  suspicion,  that  he 
contracted  his  disease  there  ;'but 
on  August  7th,  it  is  asserted  by 
the  health  officer, «  that  no  case  of 
yellow  fever  has  existed  either  at 
the  hospital,  or  on  board  the  ship- 
ping at  the  quarantine  ground 
since  the  first  of  July  hist,  except 
those  sick  persons  who  have  been 
sent  from  the  city  of  New  York." 
If,  as  was  afterwards  asserted  by 
Dr.  Hosack,  there  Iras  ^n  almost 


unlimited  intercourse  between  th% 
quarantine  ground  and  the  city^ 
it  must  have  been  practicable  to 
detect  the  health  officer,  had  his  as- 
sertion been  unfounded.  If  it  was 
true,  we  must  inquire  whether 
those  persons  sent  from  the  city 
really  had  the  yellow  fever,  and, 
if  they  had,  whence  its  origin. 

We  had  intended  to  examine 
the  evidence  on  this  subject  at 
large,  but  this  would  lead  us  too 
far  for  the  limits  of  a  review.  To 
state  the  evidence  with  sufficient 
precision,we  must  copy  a  great  part 
of  the  work  before  us.  To  this 
therefore  we  refer,  and  it  should 
be  consulted  by  every  man  inter- 
ested in  this  subject.  The  evi-* 
dence  is  far  from  sufficient  to  de- 
cide the  general  question  in  con- 
troversy ;  but  we  believe  that 
every  impartial  reader  will  agree, 
that,  in  this  caacy  the  domestick  or- 
igin of  tha  yellow  fever  is  render- 
ed most  probable. 

We  cannot  pass  over  this  chap- 
ter, without  noticing  a  very 
handsome  communication,  which 
it  contains,  addressed  by  Dr.  Sir 
James  Jay,  to  the  board  of  health. 
In  this  he  proposes,  in  order  to 
ascertain  facts,  and  to  narrow  the 
ground  of  controversy,  that  the 
board  should  adopt  the  following 
method.  "  Desire  the  leaders  of 
each  party  to  give  you  in  vfriting 
^n  accurate  Matory^  or  description 
of  yellow  fever,  mentioning  parti- 
cularly those  fiecuHar  symptoms 
attending  its  commencement,  pro- 
gress, and  termination,  which  dis- 
tinguish yellow  fever  from  any 
other- fever.  These  descriptions 
of  yellow  fever  will  be  a  kind  of 
standard  for  you  and  other  gentle* 
men  to  judge  by,  of  all  doubtful 
cases  that  may  subsequently  occur. 
When  you  have  obtained  such  a 
history  fh)m  each  party,  whcnev* 
er  a  suspicious  case  appears,  let  a 


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THE   MAUONAHT   rCV£lt. 


211 


physician  of  each  party  visit  the 
patient,  and  if  they  disagree  as  to 
the  disorder,  let  them  give  ^ou  an 
•account  of  the  symptoms  attending 
the  case  ;  from  whence,  by  com- 
paring it  with  the  standard,  you 
may  be  able  to  judge  whether  it  is 
yellow  fever  or  not  ;  and  whether 
the  sick  person  should  be  remov- 
ed, or  not,  to  the  marine  hospital.** 
Practitioners  will  see  difficulties  in 
this  plan,  and  that  it  could  not  at 
once  be  carried  into  effect  in  the 
most  perfect  manner ;  it  would 
however  be  gradually  improved, 
and  is  certainly  worthy  to  be  adopt- 
ed. Wherever  medical  men  wish 
to  attain  truth;  they  might  in  this 
method  succeed  ;  at  the  same 
time,  the  lovers  of  controveray 
would  be,  in  some  measure,  re- 
strained by  the  limits  they  would 
prescribe  to  themselves. 

The  second  chapter  contains  an 
address  from  the  board  of  health 
to  the  citizens  of  New  York,  dated 
Nov.  13.  This  gives  a  general 
account  of  their  proceedings,  and 
of  the  Extent  of  the  late  disease. 
It  displays  feelings  and  principles, 
which  do  them  honour. 

The  contents  of  the  3d  and  4th 
chapters  arc  sufficiently  expressed 
in  the  title.  The  documents  they 
contain  are  very  valuable. 

In  the  5th  chapter  we  have  the 
"  o|Hnions  of  several  eminent  phy- 
aicitfis  respecting  the  cause  of 
malignant  fever,  in  several  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  United  States." 
The  first  article  is  a  letter  from 
Dr.  Pardon  Bowen,  of  Providence, 
giving  an  account  of  the  fever, 
which  prevailed  there  the  last 
summer.  After  detailing  the 
£akcts,  this  very  respectoble  physi- 
cian infers,  *<  that  the  fever  was 
the  yellow  or  malignant  fever,  and 
that  it  had  its  origfn,  or  stood 
aoniehow  or  other  conneoted  with 
one  or  all  three**  of  certain  vessels 


he  had  mentioned.  We  refer  in- 
quirers to  the  letter ;  but  we  beg 
them  to  attend  to  the  *'  extremely 
offensive  bilge  water,"  which  made 
some  workmen  in  the  neighbour- 
hood sick,  causing  some  of  them 
to  vomit  ;  and  which  was  ^  par- 
ticularly offengive"  to  some  per- 
sons who  "  had  been  much  accus- 
tomed to  the  smell  of  bilge  water.** 
We  do  not  mean  to  support  the 
opinion,  that  the  ytllow  fever  de- 
rives its  origin  from  the  filth  of 
our  cities.  Were  we  advocates 
for  its  domestick  origin,  we  should 
not  think  it  necessary  to  adopt  this 
opinion.  But  justice  requires  us 
to  remark,  that  in  this  instance, 
at  Providence,  the  bilge  water  may 
as  fairly  be  suspected  to  be  the 
source  of  the  disease,  as  any  con* 
tagion  imported. 

The  second  article  in  this  chap- 
ter is  a  communication  from  Dr. 
Hosack,  which  had  been  publish- 
ed in  the  Morning  Chronicle.  In 
this  that  gentleman  refutes  some 
calumnies,  which  it  would  seem 
had  been  thrown  out  against  him. 
He  also  declares  that  the  events  of 
the  last  season  tend  to  confirm 
tHe  opinion  he  had  held, — viz. 
"  that  the  yellow  fever  is  not  the 
product  of  our  own  soil  or  climate, 
but  is  always  introduced  from  a- 
broad**  He  says  the  intercourse 
between  the  quarantine  ground 
and  the  city  was  ahnost  unlimited, 
but  he  does  not  state  how  the  dis- 
ease was  introduced  into  the  quar- 
antine ground  ;  and  from  the  work 
which  is  under  review  we  arc  led 
to  suppose,  that  there  was  not 
any  cause  for  a  belief  that  the 
quarantine  ground  was  infected 
from  abroad.  Dr.  H.  however 
adds,  that  "  it  is  unnecessary  for 
him  to  go  into  details  ;  that  a 
clue  to  the  investigation  of  the 
facts  upon  this  subject  is  in  the 
possession  of  the  proper  authority, 


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fil4 


hardie's  account  of  the  maligmakt  fbver. 


&c.'*  Till  we  learn  to  what  cir- 
cumstances Dr.  H.  refers,  our  final 
judgment  upon  this  matter  must 
Y^  in  some  measure  suspended. 
In  the  mean  time  we-  cannot  read* 
ily  believe  that  Mr.  Hardie  could 
be  ignorant  of  any  important  facta 
upon  this  subject ;  nor  can  we 
more  readily  suspect  that  any  man 
in  his  situation  would  attempt  to 
conceal  facts,  which  must  inevita- 
bly  be  brought  to  light  at  a  future 
period. 

Dr.  Hosack's  communication  is 
followed  by  a  letter  from  Dr.  Stu- 
art of  Grenada.  This  letter  states 
some  facts  respecting  the  fever, 
which  prevailed  in  Grenada  in 
179S,and  expresses  his  conviction, 
that  that  disease  was  imported 
from  BouUam  in  the  ship  Hankey. 
Dr.  Stuart  may  have  formed  cor- 
rect opinions  respecting  the  origin 
of  that  disease,  but  surely  his  let- 
ter does  not  prove  that  the  yellow 
fever  is  always  imported  either 
into  the  West-Indies,  or  into  this 
country. 

The  fifth  chapter  is  concluded 
by  an  extract  from  «  a  view  of  the 
climate  and  soil  of  the  United  States 
pf  America,"  by  C.  F.  Volney. 
In  this  the  subject  of  yellow  fever 
is  considered  in  a  general  way,  and 
the  Frenchman  is  seen  in  the  dis- 
cussion of  it ;  but  the  extract  con- 
tains many  important  remarks. 
Mr.Volney  is  decidedly  of  opinion, 
that  the  yellow  fever  may  and  ac- 
tually does  arise  in  the  United 
States. 

The  sixth  chapter  contains  a 
lettier  from  Richard  L.  Walker 
^d  N.  I.  Quackenbos,  physcians 
of  the  state  prison  of  New- York,  to 
the  board  of  inspectors  of  that  in- 
stitution. In  this  letter  it  is  stated, 
that  two  cases  of  yellow  fever  oc- 
ipurred  in  that  prison  in  the  month 


of  August,  one  of  them  attended 
with  the  black  vomiting.  The 
writers  add,  "  it  deserved  to  be  re- 
niarked,  that  the  circumstances  of 
the  cases  preclude  all  suspicion  uf 
their  having  infected  one  another^ 
or  of  the  disease  having  arisen 
from  any  foreign  or  contagious 
source.**  These  cases  deserve  to 
be  thoroughly  investigated.  We 
hope,  that  the  believers  in  impor- 
tation at  New-York  will  strictly, 
but  candidly  inquire  into  thb  mat- 
ter. It  is  presumed,  that  the  phy- 
sicians to  the  state-prison  would 
readily  assent  to  such  an  inquiry, 
as  it  would  not  imply  any  doubts 
of  them,  except  such  as  arise 
from  the  fallibility  of  all  men. 

Chapter  seventh  contains  "  de- 
sultory observations  and  reflec- 
tions." These  do  much  credit  to 
the  author,  and  will  be  found  ia« 
teresting  to  readers  in  general,  as 
well  a^  to  the  faculty.  In  this 
chapter  we  are^  told  that  among^ 
more  than  twenty  persons,  exposed 
to  James  Dougherty,  no  one  "  re- 
ceived the  least  infection  or  con- 
tagion ;'*  and  several  analogous 
remarks  are  made. 

The  eighth  apd  last  chapter  on 
modes  of  cure  is  a  valuable  addi- 
tion to  the  work. 

To  our  imperfect  analysis  we 
add,  that  the  perusal  of  this  work 
has  afforded  us  much  satis&ction, 
and  we  recommend  it  to  general 
attention. 

Should  unfortunately  any  of  our 
cities  be  again  visited  by  this  ma* 
lignantdisea^  we  earnestly  solicit 
persons,  who  may  have  similar  op- 
portunities for  information,  to  pub- 
lish similar  works  ;  and  to  re- 
member, that  fidelity  and  accu- 
racy  in  the  investigation  and  state- 
ment of  &ct8  will  stamp  on  their 
productions  the  highest  valu^. 


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NOTICE  OV  THE  •HEISTIAK  SfOKITdK. 


%t% 


NOTICES. 

Tke^  Christian  Momtor  z  a  reiig* 
iouM  pcriodicfU  work.  By  a 
society  for  promoting  christian 
knovUdgCy  fdetyj  and  charity, 
JVb,  \,  Boston.  Monroe  U 
Francis,    pp.  190. 

Amoko  the  peiiodfe&l  publica' 
tjoos  of  the  day,  there  has  been 
wanting  one,  which,  without  regard 
Id  sect,  should  consult  the  edifica- 
tion of  christians  in  general.  To 
encourage  a  work  of  this  sort,  we 
learn  that  a  society  was  formed  in 
the  coarse  of  the  year  past,  which 
has  presented  to  the  publick  its 
incipient  efforts  in  the  little  book 
before  ns^  It  consists  of  exhorta** 
tions,  prayers,  and  meditations 
suited  to  persons  of  various  coi^ 
ditions  in  various  circumstances. 
The  sectary  who  loves  nothing 
wikicb  does  not  breathe  a  spirit  of 
party  will  find  nothing  here  either 
savoury  to  his  taste  op  provoking 
his  malevolence.  Equally  remote 
from  bigotry  as  from  enthowasm 
the  Chrmtian  Monitor,  we  are  toldi 
numbers  among^  its  supporters  and 
friends  believers  of  diverse  theo« 
logical  tenets.  It  has  no  features 
of  a  controverdal  character.  It 
designs  to  strengthen  that  faith 
which  is  the  pillar  of  morals,  to 
brighten  that  hope  which  gilds  the 
]»ospect  of  futurity,  and  to  ani- 
inate  the  labours  of  that  love,which 
ia  the  beginning  and  end  of  the 
gospel.  It  insinrcs  ^e  feeble  con- 
vert with  oourage,  and  pours  grace 
from  its  lips  into  the  ear  of  penif 
teoce.  It  especially  calls  the 
jonmg  to  the  work  of  religion  in 
the  morning  of  life,  that  they  may 
be  saved  the  pangs  of  a  bitter  re- 
pentance^  and  the  unavailing  tears 
•f  those  who,  though  ;bey  repentf 


arc  yet  never  made  whole.  It  im- 
plores a  plentiful  stream  for  the 
thirsty,  and  a  guide  for  the  mourn-' 
ing  pilgrim.  It  prays  for  the 
generations  of  men  which  are 
passing  away,  and  for  the  children 
of  God  who  are  hastening  to  the 
grave. 

Whilst  we  tiiQS  applaud  the  pur^ 
pose  and  spirit  of  the  work,  we 
dare  not  give  our  unqualified  ap« 
probation  of  the  present  number. 
The  matter  is  good  ;  but  the  man-* 
neris  in  numerous  instances  de- 
fective. The  thoughts  are  impor-^ 
tant  and  striking  ;  but  m  the  ex-» 
pression  and  in  the  style  there  is 
an  air  of  negligence  and  abrupt-* 
ness.  The  prayers  are  often  be- 
gun and  closed  as  though  the  au- 
thor wa»  in  haste.  Its  worth  has 
gratified  its  friends,  and  pleased 
the  publick  ;  but  its  excellence  is 
not  so  conspicuously  manifest  as 
to  silence  the  opposition  of  its  en- 
emies, or  the  clamours  of  criti- 
cism. We  are  satisfactorily  in- 
formed that  this  valuable  tract  is 
undergoing  some  desirrsable  a- 
mendments,  that  it  will  shortly 
appear  from  the  press  of  Mun? oe 
and  Francis  in  an  improved  form^ 
and  that  the  Society  under  whose 
patronage  it  is  published  will  pn>* 
ceed  with  alacrity  in  their  pious 
design. 


The  poetical  works  of  Rkhard 
Savage.      With  the    life  qf  the 

'  author,  New-York  :  Wm.  A» 
Davis.     Ii05. 

Perhaps  no  poet  of  equal  pre-^ 
tensions  is  so  little  read  as  Richard 
Savage  :  many  remember  his  mis- 
fi>rtunes,but  few  mentbn  his  verses. 
Why  it  has  so  fallen  out  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  say.  Pope  commended  his 
muse  and  Johnson  pronounced 
turn  a  gcniusi  and  one  would  sup- 


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316 


KOTICBS  or  SAVAGC*S   WORr»— «0AMOKKs'  FO£MS. 


pose  the  suffrages  of  such  men 
were  a  sure  indication  of  his  dura'* 
ble  renown.  But,  if  the  Bastard  . 
be  Excepted,  there  is  little  now 
that  he  is  recalled  by  beside  the 
Epigram  on  Dennis  and  the  Biog** 
raphy  of  his  Friend.  Among  the 
wits  of  his  day  he  was  as  brilliant 
and  ragged  as  Apollo  could  wish, 
and,  though  his  life  was  irregular, 
his  muse  was  correct.  Poor 
Savage  !  in  the  melancholy  rec« 
ords  of  that  description  of  gentle- 
men denominated  bards,  thy  histo- 
ry is  mournfully  pre-eminent,  and, 
though  thy  song  may  be  neglect- 
ed, thy  errors  will  be  remembered 
for  a  humiliation  to  genius. 

Thb  edition,  enriched  with  John-* 
son's  life  of  the  author,  is  correctly 

Eut  out  of  hand,  but  its  typography 
I  so  diminutive,  that  it  appears  to 
have  issued  from  the  press  of  the 
Pigmies. 


PocTM/rom  the  PoriugucBe  ofLueM 
De  Camoensj  with  remarks  on  hm 

'  liff^  \Sfc,  ^  By  Lord  Viscount 
Strang  ford,  1  vol.  12mo.Phiia« 
delphia.    Maxwell.  . 

The  life  of*Camoen8  was  a  Kfe 
ef  continual  hardship  and  danger  ; 
^et  he  was  encouraged  by  the  in- 
spiration of  the  Muses,  and  hi^  was 
often  blessed  either  by  tlie  gentle 
smiles  or  the  pensive  remembrance 
bf  the  fairest  ladies  of  hi^  love, 
tike  Ovid  he  was  driven  into  ex- 
lift  for  love,  but  sonnets  and  can* 
zonets  cheered  and  delighted  him. 
He  was  shipwrecked  in  the  East 
Indies,  but,  like  Cesar  in  Egypt, 
he  saved  his  life  by  swimming 
with  one  hand,  while  with  a  noble 
spirit  of  literature  he  bore  up  his 
"  Lvaad"  with  the  other.  Hie 
epuLck  poem  is  known  to  the  En- 
gluh  reader  by  the  translation  of 
Mickkt  who  has  made  us  ac- 
quainted with  a  variety  of  beauties. 


which  are  not  to  be  found  in  the 
original,  even  by  the  palriottck 
researches  of  the  Portuguese.  The 
minor  poems  of  Camoens  now  at- 
tract admiration  and  applause, 
which  they  never  before  received. 
We  have  not  read  the  originals^ 
and  tlierefore  cannot  ascertain  their 
value,  but  report  says,  that  in  Lis- 
bon those  only  are  highly  esteem- 
ed for  their  simplicity,  tenacious- 
ness,  and  delicacy,  which  have  for 
their  subject  the  beauties  of  nature^ 
or  the  feelings  of  love.  Lord 
Strangfbrd's  poems,  if  we  may- 
judge  from  the  Portuguese  coup- 
lets, which  arc  interspersed  thro* 
the  volume,  arc  themselves  orig- 
inal, for  they  bear  no  resemblance 
to  the  pretended  architypes. 
Grace  and  defiance  are  the  char* 
acteristicks  of  these  canxons  and 
sonnets.  They  are  vrritten  by  a 
noblcmuifWho,  with  the  polish  and 
rkse  of  a  court,  has  evidently  unit* 
ed  the  strength  and  dignity  of  lit- 
erature. They  are  on  a  variety 
of  subjects,  such  as  are  easily  sug- 
gested to  a  lover,  a  poet,  and  a 
wanderer  4  and  most  are  composed 
withtheardour  of  passbn,  wrought 
into  refinement*  and  with  the 
sentiments  of  nature,  p6lish-% 
ed  into  elegance.  The  noble 
lord  however  frequently  ofiendt 
against  purity  and  delicacy.  We 
o]^en  admire  ^e  chams  of  hk 
love  songs,  tnd  we  often  lament 
that  such  poetry  was  written.  This 
little  volume  is  intended  toberead« 
during  th^  intervals  of  other  piea^ 
•nres  and  pumiitt ;  and  when  the 
ladies  rise  from  t^  harpsichord^ 
or  return  from  their  walk,  they 
ere  often  attracted  by  the  aonnett 
of  loitfStangford,  which  lie  oo  the 
easy  so&or  the  pleaagnt  paritoor 
window.  We  know  not  what  re» 
roedy  to  offer ;  for  when  impropri- 
ety b  decorated  by  the  cbsjins  of 
delightfiil  poetry  \  when  indebcacf 
of  allusion  is  almost  evanescent  in 


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MOMTfiLT   CATALOOtS. 


Sir 


the  refinement  of  elegant  phrase* 
ology  ;  and,  when  the  criminality 
of  passion  is  superficially  conceal^ 
cd  by  the  fashionable  embroidery 
or  delicate  needle  work  of  fancy 
or  sentiment,  who  will  regard  any 
bterdiction  of  perusal  ;  who  will 
receive  any  counsel  for  discrim* 
inatioh  ? 

If  therefore  licentious  poetry  is 
l^ad,  moral  poetry  must  be  read 
also  ;  indelicacy  must  be  manful* 
ly  opposed  by  purity  ;  the  conta- 
gion of  Little  must  be  neutralized 
by  Thomson  ;  and  where  we  are 
iittracted  into  false  sentiments,  vi- 
cious feelings,  and  impure  thoughts 
by  the  refined  fascinations  of 
Strangford,  1  we  must  be  recalled 
to  truth,  to  sobriety,  to  virtue,  and 


religion  by  the  authority  of  Cow« 
per. 

These  remarks  chicfiy  apply  to 
the  poems  on  love,  its  operations, 
and  analogies.  The  sonnets  on 
other  subjects  are  full  of  chaste 
nature  and  true  sentiment.  Strang- 
ford  certainly  will  receive  the  son-* 
net  wreath  of  English  poetry  from 
the  youngest  of  the  Graces.  He 
has  made  us  a  most  beautiful  pre- 
sent of  early  leaves  and  vernal 
flowers  ;  and  though  the  spring 
fly  has  often  corroded  the  green 
leaf,  and  the  worm  lurks  in  the 
musk  rose,  yet  purity  may  throw 
these  away,  and  accept  only  the 
tender  sprigs  and  new  flowers, 
which  ^row  in  the  valley  or  hf 
the  running  waters. 


MONTHLY    CATALOPUE 

Of  New  Publications  in  the    U.   States,   for  Afril,  1806. 

8ont  bona*  nuit  quiedam  meiNocrU,  sunt  mala  plura.— 44ART. 


NIW   WORKS. 

SiiMONS  on  various  Subjedb,eTangeli- 
eil,  devotional,  and  practical,  adapted  to 
the  promotion  of  chriftian  piety,  fiamily 
itiigion«  and  yovtbful  virtue.  By  Jofeph 
lothrop,  D.  D.  pafktf  of  the  §ri  church 
tn  Weft  Springfield.  8vo.  pp.  408.-» 
Worcefter,  Hatah  Thomas,  }un. 

Rstet  atnd  Orders  of  the  Court  of 
Common  Pleas,  called  the  Mayor's  Court 
•f  the  City  pf  New  York,app»rovcd  29th 
March.  1806.   New  York. 

•  Ofafervatlons  on  the  impreflment  of 
American  feamen,  by  the  officers  of 
(hipe  of  war,  and  vefTeU  commiifioned 
by,  and  a^ing  under  the  authority  of 
Chreat-Britain ;  with  a  few  remarks  on 
the  dotftrina  of  non-exportation.  To 
which  is  added  a  oorre^  lift  of  imprelT- 
ed  feamen.  By  a  citizen  of  Baltimore. 
BiKltmiore.    Boobin  &  Murphy. 

•  A  Geographical  Di^onaiy  of  the 
9aitcd  States  of  North  America  ;  con- 
taiaing  a  general  defcription  of  each  ftate» 
the  population,  noftiber  of  acres,  foil,  pro* 
fkidttOBs,  natural  cupofitieiif  &c  ;  a  def- 
cri^tion  of  the  rivers,  lakes,  mineral 
iyriagiytnimatains,  maaufadhtres,  tra4e/ 

Vol.  III.  No.  4.     2D 


and  commerce  ;  with  a  Aiccimf^  accotml 
of  the  Indiana,  Michigan,  and  upper  and 
lower  Louifiana  tert-itories.  Likewife 
the  populations  of  thofe  counties,  towns, 
&c.  which  have  been  ascertained  by  xh6 
cenfus  of  1800.  To  which  is  added  ai 
defcription  of  more  than  1000  places,  not 
noticed  in  any  former  geographical  work* 
£mbelli(hed  with  a  map  of  the  United 
States.  Br  Jofeph  Scott,  author  of  the 
United  States  Gazetteer,  &c. Philadelphia. 
Jacob  Johnfon,  )  2mo.  1 906.     1  Yol. 

The  American  Farrier,  adapted  for 
the  convenience  of  the  farmer,  gentle^ 
than,  and  fmith,  being  a  fure  guide  to 
prevent  and  cure  all  maladies  and  dif- 
tcmpers  that  are  incident  to  horfes  of 
what  kind  foever  ;  and  alfo  for  the  dif- 
eafes  incident  to  cattle.  By  Auguftuf 
Franklin.    Fredericktown,  Maryland. 

The  celebrated  fpeech  of  the  Hon. 
John  Randolph  on  the  non-importatioa 
refolution  of  Mr.  Gregg.  New  York. 
Riley  &  Co.  Svo. 

The  Juvenile  Bxpofitor,  or  Sequel  of 
the  common  Spelling  Book.  1.2mo.  New 
York,  Daniel  D.  Smith. 

Maflkchu(kt9  MiKtia  Laws,  pnbliflte^ 


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218 


MOXTHLT    CATALOGUE. 


under  the  infpe<^on  of  the  Adjutant 
General  of  the  Commonwealth,  with  the 
New  Militia  AA,  pafled  March  1806. 
Price  25  cents.  Bofton.  Thomas  & 
Andrews. 

A  difcourfe,  delivered  in  the  Prefljy- 
terian  church  in  Wall-ftreet,  March  2.Sd, 
1806,  at  the  requeflof  a  fociety  of  Tadie*, 
tnftltuted  for  the  benefit  of  poor  widows 
with  fmall  children.  By  R«v.  Dr.  Miller 
doler.     New- York. 

The  Newport  Female  Evangelick.  Mif- 
cellany,  No.  1.  8vo.  pp.  16.  12  cents. 
Newport,  Rhode  Tlland.  I«06.  Office  of 
the  Nfewport  Mercury. 

A  funeral  fermon:  on  the  death  of  the 
Honourable  Paul  Muniford.  By  Jodiua 
Bradley,  a.  m.  paftor  of  the  fecond  Bap- 
tifl  church  in  Newport.  Publiiladby 
rejueft.  Newport,  R.  F.  Farnfworth^ 
1805.     8vo.  pp.  46. 

.  Aa  oration,  delivered  in  the  fecond 
Baptifl  church  in  Newport,  on  the  4th 
of  July,  A.  D.  1805.  By  Noah  Bi/bee, 
jun.  Publiflied  at  the  requeft  of  the 
author*!  friends.  Newport,  R.  I.  Office 
of  the  New|)ort  Mercury.  1805.  pp.  42. 
quarto. 

A  fermon,  preached  at  the  funeral  of 
Mir.AlJiel  JLootnis.  By  Mtoies  Warren, 
A,  M.  of  South  Wilbraham.  Springfield, 
H.  Brewer. 

A  fermon,  by  Mr.  Peter  Jay-  8vo» 
pp.  23.    Bofloni  £.  Liacelo. 

NRW    EIUTIONS. 

The  four  firft  volumes  of  PTowdcn's 
Hidorical  Review  of  the  State  of  Ireland. 
Firft  American  edition.  8vo.  Philadel- 
phia.    McLaugi>lin  &  Graves. 

The  Elements  of  Euclid.  By  Robert 
Simpfon,  M.  D^  Emeritus  Profeilbr  of 
Mathematicks  in  the  Univerfity  of  Glaf» 
gow.  Svo.  Price  2,50.  Philadelphia, 
Matthew  Carey. 

The  6th  vol.  of  EaftV  Reports.  Bal- 
^mfore,  Peter  Byrne. 

Ailronomy  explained  upon  Stir  Ilaac 
Newton  8  principles,  and  made  eafy  to 
thofe  wlio  have  not  ftudied  mathematicks* 
&c.  &c.  By  James  Fcrgufon,  F.  R.  S.-. — 
Svo.  Price  3,50.  Philadelphia,  Mat- 
thew  Carey. 

A  complete  Concordance  to  the  Holy 
Scriptures  of  the  Old  and  New  Tefta« 
roents :  or,  a  diiStionary  and  alphabetical 
index  to  the  Bible  ;  very  ult:ful  to  all 
chridians  who  ferioufly  read  and  ftudy 
the  infpired  writings.  In  two  parts. 
-  Containing,  1.  The  appellative,  or  com- 
■son  words  in  fo  full  and  lar;ge  a  manner 


that  any  verfe  may  be  readily  found  hf 
looking  for  any  material'  word  in  ir.  In 
this  part  the  various  fignifications  of  the 
principal  words  are  given,  by  which  the 
true  meaning  of  many  paflage»  of  fcrip- 
ture  is  (hewn  :  An  account  of  feveral 
>ewini  cudoms  and  ceremonies  is  alfo 
added,  which  may  ferve  to  illuftrate  ma- 
ny paflages  of  fcripture.  2.  The  proper 
names  in  the  fcripture.  To  this  part  is 
prefixed  a  table,  containing  the  fignifica* 
tron  of  the  words  in  the  original  langua- 
ges from  which  they  are  derived.  To 
which  is  added  a  Concordance  to  the 
book  called  Apocrypha.  The  whole  di- 
gefted  in  an  eafy  and  regular  method. 
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American  edition.  8vo.  Boards  8,50  ; 
fliccp  9,50  ;  calf  10  dollars.  Philadel- 
phia.   Kimber,  Conrad,  &  Co. 

The  firft  number  of  Madoc,  a  poem, 
by  Robert  Southey.  Svo.  pp.  56.  fine 
woven  paper.  .S8  cents.  Bofton.  Mun- 
roe  &  Francis. 

The  Maritime  Law  of  Europe.  By 
M.  D.  A.  Azunt,  htte  fenator,  &c. 
I'ranflated  from  the  laft  Paris  edition. 
2  volumes  Svo.  Price  to  fubfcribers  3 
dollars  a  volume.  New  York,  Ifaac 
Rilay  &  Co. 

Letters  to  a  Young  Lady  on  a  Courfe 
of  Englifli  Poetry.  By  J.  Aikin,  M.  IX 
12mo.  pp.  230.  Munroe  &  Francis,  Bof- 
ton.  Thomas  &  Whipple,  New buryport. 

The  Fulfilling  of  the  Scripture*;  oran 
efi*ay,  fliewing  the  exadt  accompliflimenf 
of  i\vi  word  of  God  in  his  works  per- 
formed and  to  be  performed,  for  con- 
firming of  believerst  and  convincing 
atheifts  of  the  prefent  day.  By  Rev. 
Rjubert  Fleming,  paftor  of  a  ehorch  in 
Rotterdam.  1  vol.  8va  pp.  394^—^ 
Cl^rleftown,  Samuel  Etheridge. 

7-he  Principles  of  Religion,  as  profefl^ 
ed  by  the  fociety  of  Cbriftians,  ufuall]^ 
called  Quakers ;  written  for  the  inft ruc- 
tion of  their  youth,  and  for  the  informa- 
tion of  ftrangers.  By  Henry  Tuke. 
From  the  London  copy,  with  corre^on» 
and  additions  by  the  author.  New  York, 
12mo.  pp.  150.    Collins  &  Co.  3  dols. 

Le(1ie*s  Hiort  and  eafy  Method  with 
the  Deifts,  by  which  the  certainty  of  the- 
chriftian  religion  is  explained  by  infalli* 
ble  proof  from  four  rules,  which  are  in- 
compatible with  any  impofture  that  ever 
yet  fias  been,,  or  poffibly  can  be.  ISmo. 
Baltimore,  Dobbin  &  Murphy. 

A  iliort  and  plain  Expofition  of  the- 
Old  Teftament,  with  devotional  and  prac- 
tical refledlionf,  for  the  tiCe  of  familiea* 


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21t 


By  the  hte  R^.  loh  Orton,  S.  T.  D. 
publiihed  from  the  author's  manufcripts. 
By  R.  Centleman.  Worccfter.  Thomas, 
jun.  6  voU.  8vo. 

Orton's  Kxpi)fition  of  the  Old  Tcfta- 
ment.  6  vols.  Bvo.  Bofton,  Etheridee 
&  Blift. 

Thoughts  on  the  Trinity,  by  George 
Mmac  Huntingford,  D.  D.,  F.  R.'s.  8vo. 
25  cts.     Boflon,  Enlign  Lincoln. 

Fables  for  the  Indies,  by  Edward 
Moore.  To  which  are  added,  Fables  of 
Flora,  by  JLanghoroe.  12mo.  Havcr- 
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The  New  Uoiyerfal  lietter  Writer 
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a  Tery  copious  and  valnable  Euglifh 
l>i<aionary.  By  the  Rev.  Thomas  Cooke, 
A-  iVf.  1  vol.  ISmo.  I  ^ol.  fine  woven 
paper.  S.  Etheridge,  Cbarlettown,  and 
Thomas  &  Whipple,  Newburyport. 

The  Engliih  Nun,  or  the  Sorrows  of 
Edward  and  Loiiifa,«  novel.  New- York. 

Human  Prudence  ?  or  the  art  by 
which  a  man  or  woman  may  be  advanc- 
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CO  real  grandeur.  Adapted  to  the  gcn- 
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Ifma  75  cents  bound.  Dedham  Her- 
man Mann.     1806. 

Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  Lord  Nelfon. 
To  which  is  prefited  an  engraved  fron- 
tifpiece,  reprefenting  the  battle  of  Tra- 
falgar. J  2mo.  pp.  46.  Bofton,  W.Normao. 

IN    THB    PltE8«. 

Fergnfon's  Ledlures.  2  vols,  of  letter 
prefs  8va  and  1  of  plates  4to.  Phila- 
delphia, Matthew  Carey. 

The  5th  and  laft  vol.  of  Piowden*8 
Hi(h>rical  Review  of  the  State  of  Ireland. 
8vo.  woven  pap<;r.  Philadelphia.  Mc 
Laughlin  &  Graves. 

ProfeiTbr  Smith's  Latin  Grammar.-— 
ISmo.    Bofton,  John  Wed. 

Simpfon*8  Algebra.  Philadelphia, 
Mitthew  Carey.  « 

Eaft  s  Crown  Law.  2  vols.  Bsdti- 
more.    Peter  Byrne. 

6aunders*8  Reports,  with  notes  bv  Ser- 
geant Williams.  2  vols.  Baltimore, 
Peter  Byrne. 

Underwood  on  the  difeafes  of  chil- 
dren.   8vo.    Bofton,  David  Wefl. 

Chaptall's  Cherairiry.  8vo.  BoAoOi 
Thomat  &  Andrews . 


The  rd  and  laft  volume  of  Mrs.  War- 
ren's Hiftory  of  the  Aweric^i  Revolu- 
tion.    8vo.     Bcfton,   Kben.  Larkio. 

Pal<»y'8  Philofo]*hy.  6vo.  BoAon, 
JohH  Weft. 

■    Burdcr*s    Village    Sermons.       12mo» 
Boflon.     E.  Ivincohi.  - 

No.  11.  of  the  ChrilHan  Monitor,  1 2ino. 
Bofton,  Munroe  &  Francis. 

Mrs.  Chapone's  Letters  on  the    im- 
provement of  the  Human  Mind,  addref- 
•  fed  to  a  young  lady.     1 2mo.     Portland, 
Daniel  Johnfon. 

Pope's  Homer*s  Iliad.  S  vols.  1 8mou 
Bollon.    Edw.  Cotton. 

The  Poems  of  Ollian,  tnmflated  by 
Macpherfon  into  £«gli(h  verfe.  2  vols, 
with  plates.     New  York. 

Life  of  Bonaparte  to  the  battle  of  Auf- 
terlitz,  an  original  compofition.  Balti- 
more, Warner  &.  Hanna. 

rtOPOSED     TO     BE    PRINTED     BT    SUB- 
SCRIPT  ION. 

Two  Treatifes  of  Government.  By 
John  Locke.  In  the  former  treatife  the 
falfe  principles  of  Sir  R.  Filmer  and  his 
followers,  in  fupport  of  the  divine  right 
of  kings,  are  dete6bed  and  overthrown.  - 
The  latter  is  an  eflay  concerning  the  true 
original  extent  and  end  of  civil  govem- 
meat.  Ornamented  with  a  Ukenefsof' 
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bers,  bound,  2,25.  Salem,  Barnard  B. 
Maccanuhy. 

The  Works  of  that  celebrated  orator 
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don edition.  8vo.  4  vols.  pp.  500  each. 
Price  2  dots,  a  volume,  in  boards.  Bof- 
ton.  John  Weft  and  Oliver  C.  Greeoleaf. 

The  Sacred  Mirror,  or  Compendious 
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a  faithful  narration  of  all  the  principad 
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TeOaments,  from  the  creation  of  the 
world  to  the  death  of  St.  Paul.  With  a 
continuation  from  that  period  to  the 
final  defhiidUon  of  f  erufalem  by  the,  Ro- 
mans. Defigned  for  the  mental  improve- 
ment of  youth,  and  particularly  adapted 
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pious index,  not  contained  in  the  En- 
glifti  edition.  12mo.  pp.  SOa  Price  to 
fubfcribert  1  dollar  bound.  Bofton,  S. 
R  Parker. 

The  Trial  of  Virtue,  a  facred  poem  : 
being  a  paraphrafe  of  the  whole  book  of 
Job,  and  defigned  as  an  explanatory 
comment  upon  the  divine  original.    la- 


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terCperCtd  with  critical  nocet  upon  a  va- 
riety- of  its  paflaget.  In  fix  partt.  To 
which  it  annexed,  a  diflertacion  upon  the 
book  of  Job.  Bv  Chauncy  Lee,  a.m. 
paftor  of  a  church  in  Colebrook,  Con. 
18  mo.  pp.  200*  Price  bound  to  fob- 
fcribers,  75  cent*.     Hartford,  Con. 

Thomion's  Seafont.  With  Dr.  John- 
Ion*!  life  of  the  author.  8vo.  1  vol.  pp. 
about  SOa  Embelliihed  with  four  en- 
gravings, defcriptive  of  the  four  reafooi. 
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£ne  paper,  elegantly  bound, .'?,  50.  lied- 
bam,  (MaC)  Herman  Mann. 

The  life  of  the  Rev.  John  Wefley,  A.M. 
To  which  will  be  prefixed,  a  compre- 
benfive  hiftory  of  the  Wefiey  family  : 
and  an  appendix,  exhibiting  the  rife, 
progrefs,  and  prefent  dale  ^f  the  Metb- 
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price  to  fubfcnbers,  bound»  lt50 ;  to 
pon-fubfcribers  1,75.  Baltimore.  Dob- 
bin &  Mnrphv. 

Anhiflorical  View  of  Herefies,andvin« 
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Mc  Farland,  a.m.  minifter  of  the  gofpei. 
Concord,  New-Hampfliirt.  Price  1  doU 
lar.    Concord,  N.  H.  George  Hough. 

The  pious  Country  PariHiioner.  Be- 
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A  treaiife,  entitled,  Aures  Sententiie  : 
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tbe  whole  prai^ce,  autbocity,  and  duty 
of  juftiees  of  the  peace,  with  corre^ 
forms  and  precedents  relgtiog  thereto. 
]  vol.  8vo.  pp.  45a  By  a  geatlemam 
oC  tbt  (HTofi^&op.    fxiio$  !•  f^Uoib^^ 


2  dols.  Portfinoittli.  Cbtrlca  Fierce  aod 
S.  Bragg,  jun. 

A  pamphlet,  entitled,  a  plain  political 
Catechiim  :  intended  for  the  ufe  of 
fchools  in  the  United  States,  by  Rev. 
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Richardfon. 

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the  bed  European  authorities,  Amplified 
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BoAon,  Uri  K.  HilL 

A  new  work,  entitled,  life  and  Adven- 
tures  of  James  OHara,  well  known  ia 
Philadelphia,  New  York,  and  tbe  princi- 
pal places  in  the  United  States  and  eUe- 
where,  having  travelled  over  a  greit 
part  of  the  globe.    Philadelphia. 

parrAaiNO  roa  the  pikss. 

Zollikofifer^s  fifty-two  fermons  on  the 
dignity  of  roan,  and  the  value  of  tbe  ob- 
je^s  principally  relating  to  human  hap- 
pinefii.  2  vols.  8vo.  WorceAer,  Ifaiab 
Thomas,  jun. 

Lathrop's  S^rmoos  on  various  impor- 
tant fubje<fU,  adapted  to  the  promotion 
of  chriAian  piety,  family  religion,  and 
lamilv  virtue»^being  the  three  volumes 
whicn  have  long  been  before  the  publick, 
with  confiderable  additions.    WorceAer. 

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the  pra^ee  of  medicine  (  to  which  is 
prefixed  a  conoife  hlAory  of  the  oow-pof^- 
^orceAer,  L  Thoipas,  jun. 

Tooke*s  Pantheon  epitoqoisad^-iyeTflf 
X  comprduoiWe  hiAory  of  the  heathen 
gods-— decorated  with  upwards  of  SO  en* 
gravings,  and  impreffied  oo  a  beautiftil 
wove  paper.    WorceAer,  L  Thomas  juat 

Schrevelius'  Greek  Lexicon  will  be  put 
to  prefs  in  thecourie  ef^thefuonmerfaod 
finiAied   with    all    poffiblf   difpatcbj«i-i 


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LITERARY    AND    PHILOSPPHICAL   INTELLIGENCE. 


221 


Ij\TKLLIC;EJ\rCE. 


J^xtraff  9/  a  Utter  from  a  gentleman  in  Cam^ 
bridge  Unlverjity  {^England)  to  one  of  the 
e£tors  of  tit  Anthology^  dated  February 
6,  1806. 

I  AM. glad,  t)iat  you  are  a^vely  em- 
ployed in  promoting  a  fpirit  and  tafte 
for  polite  literature.  In  encouraging 
and  efie<£ling  this  obje<5l,  I  am  certain 
that  in  your  country  in  particular,  men 
of  letters  will  conduce  mbre  to  the  real 
happinefs  and  comforts  of  fociety,  than 
in  acrimonious  difquifition^  on  theology 
or  poJiticks.  You  cannot  too  often  in- 
culcate to  your  countrymen  a  truth,  of 
which  too  many  of  them  appear  regard- 
Jelj  :  **  Didicili^  fideliter  artes,  emollit 
mores  ncc  finit  effe  fcros.**  From  thefe 
we  may  hope  that  the  thrifty  economy 
of  the  (peculator  and  merchant  may  in 
time  be  exacted  into  the  liberality  of  the 
gentleman  and  fcholar.  Herbert  Marlh 
has  not  publiihed  his  fermons  :  in  which 
Ke  perhaps  ads  wifely,  as  the  clamour 
would  be  very  great,  and  fuch  it  the  na- 
ture of  the  champions  in  the  oppofite 
caufe  that  St.  Paul  himfelf  could  not 
quiet  them.  I  am  glad  that  the  great 
learning  of  H.  Marlh  has  at  length  n>ft 
fome  reward  in  a  place  on  the  civil  lift 
of  £.500  per  annum.  Your  complaint 
on  the  exceflive  deamefs  of  books  is  very 
juft,  and  much  felt  in  England.  The 
printers  and  bookfdlert  conHder  noth- 
ing but  themfelves,  and  have  the  power 
to  do  as  they  pleafe^— I  do  not  at  present 
recoiled  any  late  work  which  I  have 
read  with  to  much  pleafure,  as  **  The 
Iaj  of  the  laft  Minftrel,**  a  poem  de- 
fenptive  of  Border  mannert,  which  in 
many  places  feems  to  me  to  contain  the 
true  fpirit  of  fong.  The  author  is  a  gen- 
tleman, whofe  ancefVor»  were  the  adorv, 
and  who  bimfelf  now  lives  on  the  fcene 
of  hts  ftory. 

Mr.  Hayley,  wifiithat  aAlvc  philan- 
thropy wMcli  marks  everv  adion  of  hit 
ftfe,  has  addrefled  the  ffiuowing  circular 
letter  to  the  pcrfons  who  have  honoured 
the  intention  of  raifing  a  puMick  monu- 
ment to  Cowper  by  entering  their  namet 
c»  the  lift  of  fubfcribers  : 

**  Gntttude  sad  Intaf^rfty  feem  to  require  from 
sne,  St  thb  time,  ao  adoreA  to  the  fovouren  of  a 
p««n,  which  I  propoCcd  to  the  pobUck,  m*  tribote 
flltse  to  A  dsparted  ohjcA  of  national  eftpem  and 
alTcdioo.  To  publUh  a  Milton  in  three  quarto 
▼<3liimes  (inclnding  all  the  MainrfcH|>ts  of  Cowper 
rdatlRg  to  MUCQQ,  at  ttM  price  of  fix  gulBCMf  wtf 


a  propofal,  that,  with  extenfive  encooragenCfft, 
m^hc  have  gratified  the  wifhes  of  Cowper'a  ar- 
dent adniirert,  and,  in  rendering  a  figna)  and  juii 
honour  to  him,  mi{;ht  alfo  have  honoured  the  tafte 
of  an  enlightened  and  a  liberaJ  nation. 

**  'niough  the  Gjgnature  of  rcveral  moft  rrfpeA- 
.  able  iiame>  feemedto  afford  an  honourable  {anc^ 
tlon  to  my  firft  idea  ^f  a  poblick  Monument  fbrmy 
litcrarv  friend,  yet  I  am  now  diTpoied  to  reliiH 

auifh  that  idea  ;  and  I  acealoufly  fuUdt,  not  only 
lofe  who  have  befriended  it,  but  the  pubHck  at 
large  to  co-operate  with  me  in  a  new,  and  differ- 
ent, rrark  of  regard  to  the  memory  of  the  pocC| 
on  a  pUn,  whicn  I  haiten  to  explain,  and  to  re- 
commend to  their  favour. 

**  Since  the  publication  of  my  firft  propofal,  • 
favotirite  godfon  and  namelake  of  Cowper  hat 
had  the  mluortune  to  become  an  orphan  at  an 
early  age.  It  haa  occurred  to  me,  that  1  may 
improve  the  tribute  of  general  refped  to  the  me- 
mory of  the  poet,  by  converting  hb  manuferipta, 
relating  to  Milton,  not  into  marhle,  but  Into  a  lit- 
tle fund,  to  Affift  the  education  and  futnre  ettab* 
liAiment  of  this  intcrcftine  orphan.  I  am  confi.' 
dent  that  no  tribute  of  twpcA  to  Cowper**  me- 
mory could  be  more  truly  accepubic  to  hit  pure 
and  beneficent  mind  than  what  I  now  propofe ;. 
and  I  feel  a  pleafbre  in  believing,  that  I  may  grat- 
ify many  of  hii  admfarera  by  affording  tbcm  an 
opportunity  of  purchafing  the  pofthumou^  poetry 
mmy  frleiid,  and  of  indulging,  at  the  f^me  t1me». 
their  feeUnga  of  tendemeft  and  benevolence  to* 
ward!  an  orphan  particularly  endeared  to  th« 
departed  poet. 

'*  It  is  therefore  my  prefent  biteittlon  to  print, 
not  a  Milton  In  three  vokjmes,  but  the  Latin  and 
Italian  poema  of  Milton  tranflated  bv  Cowper 
(With  all  that  remahv  of  hia  proJeAed  difftrtatlona 
on  Paradife  Lott)  In  one  handfome  quarto,  at  tb« 
price  of  two  guineaa. 

••  I  cheriih  a  langidne  hope  that  the  liberality 
of  the  publick,  and  a  general  wi(b  totesufy  af- 
fectionate refpect  to  Cowper'a  memory,  in  a 
manner,  that  will  appear,  I  tnifl,  pecul'uriy  foltcd 
to  the  tendernefs  and  the  beneficence  of  his  char- 
ader,  may  render  fuch  a  Tubfcriptioo  aa  I  have 
now propofcd.  in  ibme  degree  adc^uaisi^ftthe de* 
finUe  oDied  in  vieVv.  ^^ 

••  To  tbofe  who  have  honouied  roe  with  their  • 
names  for  higher  funps  on  my  former  plan.  It  ii 
my  duty  to  fay,  that  the  perfona  who  have  paid 
their. money  to  the  relt>eaive  bookfellers  men- 
tioned in  the  firat  propofal,  are  at  liberty  to  n> 
fume  the  whole,  or  what  portion  of  it  they  think 
proper. 

»•  If,  on  the  contrary,  they  generoufly  devote 
the  whole  fum  (fublcribed  toward*  a  Monument 
for  Cowper)  to  the  orphan  god -child  of  the  poet^ 
I  think  It  right  to  allure  them,  that,  whatever 
may  be  raifi«  by  the  prefent  application  to  their 
liberaHty,  will  be  veiled  in  two  tnifteea,  i^amuel 
Sa3i:h«a«d  lo^  Sargent,  efiauires,  membera  of 
parliament,  for  the  boiefit  of  the  Orphan,  whom 
f  have  mentioned.  ^,  «-v«ij^ 

Feb.  4,  iftXS.  W.  HAYLET. 

Pelpham,  near  Chkhefter. 

•♦  Cowper'a  tranflaOonafrom  the  Latin  and  Ital- 
ian poemTof  Milton  arc  already  ''•2£«^./2 
the  prdi,  from  the  copy  that  includea  hia  Uteft 

**'?^^Vona  Inclined  to  befriend  the  puWloi. 
tkm  h2rE?ecommended  to  their  favour,  ^the 

KSSs  to  N?r.  Johnfon  of  St.  Paul'.  Church  Yard, 
oa  to  Mr.  Evans,  Paii-Maii.  .«<v»jNft»«- 

••rSliwho  have  made  their  «^j^e  pay, 

Uwmatplcafta^**'. 


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222 


I4TERART    AND    PHILOSOPHICAL   IKTELLIGEXCR. 


Mr.  Carr,  who  ha«  already  favoured 
the  world  with  his  Stranger  in  France, 
and  with  hit  Travels  round  the  Baltic, 
lia«  lately  made  the  T»ur  of  Ireland^  and  ii 
now  preparing  an  accouot  of  that  almod 
Mukaown  country  which  he  intends  to 
publifh  under  the  title  of  tbe  Stran- 
GKR  IN  Ireland.  The  work  will  make 
one  elegant  volume  quarto,  fimilar  to  the 
X^orthem  Summer,  and  will  be  embellifhed 
with  a  variety  of  engravings  by  Mcd- 
LAMo  from  drawings  by  Mr.  Carr. 

Mr.  Walter  Scott,  author  of  the 
Poem  of  the  Lay  of  the  laft  Minftrel,  it 
preparing  an  edition  of  the  long  negleiSbed 
works  of  John  Dryden. 

The  following  details  relative  to  the 
arts  at  Rome  are  given  by  one  of  the 
moft  dilliuguiOied  fcientiiick  men  of  that 
city. — **  We  cannot  boaft  of  many  literary 
produ^ions,  but,  to  make  amends,  great 
pains  are  taken  for  clearing,  cieandiig, 
and  better  preferving,  the  ancient  monu- 
ments of  architecture.  His  Holinefs  has 
greatly  promoted  this  part  of  the  art,  one 
of  the  moft  interetllng  of  antiquity.-* 
The  architedk  and  the  antiquary  will  ac- 
quire new  fubjeAs  of  erudition,  and  new 
works  and  new  engravings  will  be  rend- 
ered neceflary.  The  Works  of  Dcfgo- 
detz,  a  new  edition  of  which  is  about  to 
be  published  by  M.  Carlo  Fca,  will  derive 
an  immenfe  advantage  from  thefe  la- 
bours, and  will  become  almofl  entirely 
new.  How  dtfTerent  from  what  we  have 
been  accuflomed  to  behold  it,  will  ap- 
pear that  celebrated  Pantheon,  hitherto 
almoft  unknown,  though  the  mofk  beau- 
•tiful  of  ancient  edifices,  and  in  the  beft 
prefervation  I  The  Flavian  Amphithea- 
tre, or  Colifeum,  will  be  cleanfed,  and 
the  publick  will  have  accefs  to  it,  as  to  a 
mufeixm.  The  Temple  of  the  Sybil  at 
Tivoli  ha^  been  repaired  ;  and  the  two 
arches  of  Septimius  Severus  and  of  Con- 
ftantine  have  been  cleared  of  the  earth 
which  covered  them.  The  column  of 
Antoninus  has  beea  cleancdaiid  is  no  lon- 
ger covered  with  duft.  The  fuppofed 
Temple  of.  Vefta  at  Rome,  on  the  Tiber, 
as  well  as  the  neighbouring  one  of  Fortw 
ma  Firilit^  will  be  cleared  of  the  rubbifh 
in  which  they  ha?c  been  as  it  were  bur- 
ied ;  and  the  interior  of  them  will  be 
cleaofed.  Thus  by  the  exertions  of  his 
Holinefs,  ancient  Rome  will  be  expofed 
to  view,  and  modern  Rome  will  be  em- 
bfelliflied.  Kor  has  the  Holy  Father  for . 
gotten  the  nfof^  celebrated  of  the  modern  . 
buildings,  the  fmall  circular  temple  ered^- 
ed  in  1502,  after  the  dcfigns  of  the  il- 
iuftrious  Braxnante  Lazaeri,    under  the 


aufpices  of  Ferdinand  the  CatholickKiog 
of  Spain.  It  fell  into  ruins  fome  years 
lince,  not  from  age,  but  in  confequeoce 
of  the  lat«  troubles.  It  was  fold,  in  or- 
der that  its  precious  materials  might  be 
removed  :  but  his  holinefs  has  refolvcd 
to  repair  it  in  a  flyle  of  great  elegance. 
In  a  (hort  time  M  Carlo  Fea  will 
fpeak  of  all  thefe  new  undertakings 
in  the  fecond  volume  of  Mifcellanies, 
which  he  has  particularly  devoted  to 
what  relates  to  the  refearches  now  car^ 
rying  on,  exclulive  of  what  will  be 
faid  in  his  Illuftrations  of  Defgodctt— 
M^  Guattani  will  likewife  treat  of  them 
in  a  new  journal  which  M.  Carlo  Fea  is 
about  to  undertake.  The  former  gentle- 
man is  at  prefent  engaged  on  the  Se- 
quel to  the  Unpubliflied  Monuments 
in  which  will  be  found  many  interefting 
particulars.  The  Mufeum  of  the  illuf- 
trious  Cardinal  Borgia  has  palTcd  into 
hands  by  which  it  will  not  be  ncgled- 
cd.  His  nephew,  the  prefent  pofleffo^is 
a  man  of  information,  and  has  a  deep 
fenfe  of  the  glory  which  the  Cardinal 
acquired  for  his  family  by  this  unique 
colle<5li«n.  He  continues  the  engrav- 
ings which  his  uncle  intended  to  have 
executed  from  drawings  of  the  moft  re- 
markable obje<5U  in  the  Mufeum.  He 
has  communicated  the  Mexican  Manu- 
fcript  to  M.  Alexander  von  HumboWt, 
and  has  permitted  him  to  make  ufe  of 
it  for  his  work  :  but  he  is  thwarted  in 
his  noble  defigns  by  the  pretenfioof  of 
the  Prcpagamia,  The  Cardinal  made 
that  fociety  his  heir,  but  bequeathed  the 
Mufeum  and  other  legacies  to  his  fami- 
ly. He  unfortunately  made  ufe  of  tbe 
expreifion,  **  My  Mufeum  which  is  at 
Velleiri  ;**  and  the  Propaganda  claim  a 
right  to  every  thing  that  happened  to 
be  at  Rome  at  the  moment  of  the  Cardi- 
naPa  death,  though  the  articles  incon- 
tedibly  formed  part  of  the  Mufeum.— 
By  a  fecond  fatality  the  Coptic  inflni- 
mcnts,  for  which  M.  Zoega  has  juft 
completed  the  defeription,  were  among 
the  obje£U  that  had  been  broui:hC  to 
Rome.  This  important  work  cannot 
therefore  be  publiHied  till  after  theded- 
fion  of  the  procefs,  unlefs  the  two  par- 
tips  come  to  a  previous  arrangements — 
Two  learned  Sicilians,  the  Chevaliers 
Landolini  and  Serrini,  have  refided  for 
fome  time  at  Rome.  The  former,  who 
has  already  evinced  fuch  seal  for  the  an- 
tiquities of  his  country,  is  ftill  engaged 
in  refearches  at  the  Theatre  of  Syra- 
cufe  ;  and  we  are  indebted  to  him  for 
the  rcccni  difcovery  of  two  fine  flatues, 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


LIT£RARY    AND   PHILOSOPHICAL   INTfeLLlGtJCCt. 


)tJ 


an  iBTcuUpius  and  a  Venui,  which, 
however,  are  not  fo  beautiful  at  has  been 
averted.  He  is  at  this  moment  writing 
a  Memoir  on  fome  infcriptiom  found  at 
the  Theatre  of  Syracufe.  The  Cheva- 
liar  Sirini  is  endeavouring  to  difpufe  of 
hiii  coHciftion  of  yolcanick  produvftious, 
and  is  preparing  for  a  tour  in  the  north  '* 

M.  Lartioue  has  at  length  completed 
a  large  and  beautiful  map  of  America  in 
relief.  The  mountains,  ifland<(,  and  the 
tints  of  the  fea,  are  all  exhibited  in  a 
manner  mofl  capable  of  intereQing  thofe 
who  make  geography  their  ftudy. 

Rev.  Ifrael  Worfley,  who  has  lately 
•fcaped  from  France,  is  about  to  pubiim 
in  one  volume,  fmall  o^flavo,  an  Account 
of  the  State  of  France  and  its  Govern- 
ment during  the  lafl  Three  Year*,  parti- 
cularly as  it  has  Relation  to  the  Belgic 
Provinces  and  the  Treatment  of  the 
£ngli(h. 

Mr.  Duppa  has  in  the  prefs,  and  will 
publiflv  early  in  the  fpriug,  a  life  of  Mi- 
chael Angelo-  Buonaroti,  compriUng  his 
charadber  as  a  poet,  painter,  fculptor,  and 
architect. 

Mr.  Bigland  has  in  the  prefs,  and 
nearly  ready  for  publication,  Letters  on 
Natural  Hiftory.  The  obje<ft  of  this 
work  is  to  exhibit  the  view  of  the  wif- 
dom  and  goodnefs  of  the  Deity,  fo  emi- 
nently difplayed  in  the  formation  of  the 
uoiverfc,  and  the  various  relations  of 
utility  which  inferiour  beings  have  to 
the  human  fpecies.  It  is  calculated  par- 
ticularly for  the  ufe*  of  fchools,  and  for 
youth  in  general  of  both  fexes,  and  will 
De  illudrated  by  upwards  one  hundred 
engraved  fubjetfb.  The  fame  writer  has 
recently  publifhed  a  fecond  edition  of 
his  Letters  on  Ancient  and  Modern 
Hiftory,  in  ocfbavo,  which  forms  a  hand- 
fome  library-book,  with  an  elegant  en- 
graving of  the  author. 

Avariety  of  Lives  of  Lord  Nelfon  have 
been  announced,  from  the  price  of  Hx- 
pence  to  one- hundred  guineas.  The  three 
mod  conliderable  are,  that  bv  Meflrs. 
Art  HO  a  and  CLaitKx,  and  that  under 
the  patronage  of  the  new  Earl,  and  an- 
other from  the  houfe  of  Mr.  Bowyer  of 
Pall  Mall.  Each  of  tkem  claims  the  re- 
commendation of  original  materials  ;  and' 
a  far  as  the  fubjedk  itfelf  is  fulceptible 
of  noveltv  of  illuftration,  they  all  Appear 
ft)  be  entitled  to  the  patronage  of  the 
publick. 

A  moft  valuable  colledHon  of  EafTem 
ifeRS.,  tRe  property  of  Major  Oufcley, 
brother  of  Sir  William  Oufeley,  was 
Wrought  to  £ogland  by  the  laft  Bengal 


fleet.  The  number  of  Ara^c,  Perfiitay 
and  Sanfcript  books,  amounts  to  nearly 
fifteen  thoufand  volumes.  Beiidtt  tbeitf 
there  are  vad  coUe^ions  of  natural  hif» 
tory  and  mineralogy,  and  a  great  many 
botanical  paintings  executed  in  the  mou 
accurate  manner.  The  quantity  of  ad-* 
ditional  ouriotitiee  and  momimcnts  i* 
very  great.  There  are  many  portfoiioe 
of  immenfe  iize,  containing  mythological 
paintings  of  great  antiquity,  ipleadidly  il- 
lumiuated,  and  coUet^ed  from  all  partv 
of  Hiodoftan,  from  I'hibet,  Tartary^ 
China,  Ceylon,  Ava,  &c.  I'o  thefe  are 
added  feveral  idols  of  (lone,  metal,  wood« 
and  other  materials.  There  is  alfo  a  ca- 
binet of  the  mod  rare  medals,  gems,  and 
other  antif^ucs.  The  treafure  is  ftilL 
farther  enriched  with  a  complete  feries 
of  the  coins  flruck  by  Mahometaa 
princes  fince  the  reign  of  Timour,  ind 
with  fpecimens  of  armour,  horfe  fumi^ 
ture,  (words,  f pears,  bows  and  arrows^ 
and  all  the  weapons  ufed  in  Periia,  India, 
and  other  countries  of  the  £a(h  The 
Major  has  alio  executed,  on  the  fpot,  in 
various  parti  of  India,  original  draw- 
ings. He  has  alfo  brought  home  mu(i^ 
cal  iudruments,  and  icverai  hundred 
tunes  fet  to  mu(ick  by  hirofelf,  from  the 
voice  of  Perilan,  Caflimerian,  and  Indian 
lingers.  The  iituation  of  Major  Oufeley, 
as  Aid-de-Camp  to  the  Nabob  of  Oude, 
gave  him  great  advantages  for  procuring 
(uch  commodities ;  and  his  acquilitions, 
added  to  thofe  of  bis  brother.  Sir  W^ 
Oufeley,  who  already  polTcffes  eight 
hundred  Arabic,  Periian,  and  Turla(h 
MSS.,  will  form  a  more  fplendid  collec<^ 
tion  than  any  that  is  pofTeHed  in  Eu- 
rope. 

Mr.  Kidd  propofet  to  publiffi  a  neW 
edition  of  Homer,  with  collations  of  ma- 
ny maoufcripti  never  before  examined. 

One  of  the  moft  intimate  friends  of 
Winkelmann,  the  celebrated  German  an- 
tiquary, named  Berendis,  lately  dcceafed, 
left  among  his  papers  feveral  letters  of 
that  celebrated  man.  Thefe  have  been 
publi(hed  by  Gothe,  who  has  added 
various  pieces  of  his  own  compoHtionv 
in  which  he  end^vours  to  place  the 
charadter  of  Wiokelhiann  in  a  new  light 
as  a  writer  and  as  a  man,  by  delineating 
him  in  themoft  remarkable  circum(lance» 
of  his  Kfe.  Gounfeller  Wolfe,  of  Halle, 
has  enriched  this  volume  with  a  very' 
curious  piece  on  the  literary  and  philolo- 
gical (hidies  of  Winkelmann.  Laflly,  pro^ 
UiTor  Meyer  has  contributed'  a  well* 
written  Hiftory  of  the  Arts  in  the  lad^ 
Century,  which-  condudef  the  work,  ttf 


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tu 


ME0ICAL   REl»0!lT. 


Whsdl  OailM  hM  tliottglit  ^t  to  icive  the 
tide  of  •*  Winkeimman  and  hit  Age." 

M.  fchonberger,  of  Vienna,  one  of 
tkc  irft  iModfeape-paittters  of  the  age, 
'  kaa  recently  been  engaged  in  a  tour  of 
the  moft  pi<!hirefque  parts  of  Switzer- 
land and  Ital^.  His  prododliont  are 
principally  diftingitiihed  for  the  happy 
arrangement  of  the  objedks,  for  the  ef- 
Ie6b  of  the  perfpe<5Hve,  and  the  beauty  of 
the  colouring.  This  ableartiftisas  well 
known  in  France  as  in  German jr,  by  his 
beautiful  pieces,  id  the  exhibition  of 
J  804.  Thefe  were,  a  View  of  the  Envi* 
rons  of  Baise,  near  Naples,  at  fun-rife  ; 
the  Ikll  of  the  Rhine,  near  Schaffhaufen  ; 
and  the  Cafcades  oJFTivoli,  by  moon«» 
tight  :  performan(^es  in  which  the  touch 
and  the  native  graces  of  Claude  le  Lo- 
rain were  difcoverable. 

A  new  and  complete  edition  of  the 
Works  of  the  celebrated  Franklin  will 
ipeedily  make  its  appearance  in  Eng- 
land, le  will  embrace  tiot  only  all 
fbat  is  contained  in  former  editions,  but 
Kkewife  much  new  matter  tranfmitted 
Irxpre&ly  for  the  work  from  America, 
Bedde  a  corretfl  likenels  of  the  vener- 
able philofopher,  it  will  contain  eight 
engravings  of  fcientifickfubje<5b,ezecuted 
by  Mr.  Lowry. 


rrATBMENT    OF     DIBEASBS, 
F/tM  March  20  t6  Aprit  20. 

THE  weather  during  the  latter  part 
of  March  was  cold  and  tempefhious. 
The  winds  mod  commonly  north-ealler- 
ly,  and  often  accompanied  with  fnow. 
The  commencement  of  April  brought 
milder  weather  and  feme  eafl  winds. 
Afterward  the  wintry  north-wed  return- 
id,  and  prevailed  to  the  end  of  the  month. 
On  the  whole,  the  ead  wind  has  exifted 
Ufs  frequently  than  ufual,  and  the  wea- 
ther has  been  colder. 

An  epidemic  catarrh  attended  with  fe- 
Vere  febrile  fymptoms,  of  {hort  duration, 
hasbeen  quite  common.  Slight  inflamma- 
tory affe^ons  of  the  throat,  and  violent 
ones  of  the  lungs,  have  appeared  ;  and 
fheumatifm  hai»  occafjonally  occurred. 

Toward  the  clofe  of  March  an  uncom- 
mon difeafe  appeared  at  Medfleld,  the 
fymptoms  of  which  we  (hall  record  with 
«•  much  accuracy,  as  our  information 
will  Admit.     Aay  thiog  further  on  thif 


fubje^  will  be  rcceitred  with  pTelftirf 
from  thofe,  who.  have  feen  the  difeafe. 
It  is  faid  that  one  or  two  cafes  of  the  fame 
nature  appeared  in  Bodon.  The  fubje<^ 
were  children  between  the  ages  of  eigh^' 
teen  months  and  two  years.  Thofe,  who 
could  explain  their  feelings,  faid  they 
were  attacked  .with  a  numbnefs  in  one 
arm,  fucceeded  by  violent  pain  in  the 
head,  naufea  and  vomiting,  throbbing  of 
the  carotid  arteries,  and  rednefs  of  the 
eyes.  In  feme  of  the  cafes,  there  was 
ereat  pain  in  the  domach  and  bowels, 
back, and  limbs.  The  tongue  was  white, 
the  pulfe,  in  this  dage,  very  hard  and 
quick.  After  thefe  a<Stions  had  continued 
a  few  hours,  they  gradually  fubfided. 
T^e  arterial  adHon  cfpecially  became  very 
feeble,  fo  that  the  pulfc  in  the  wrid  could 
fcarcefy  be  felt  ;  though  the  vibration 
of  the  carotids  dill  appeared.  Slight 
fpafms  took  place  in  fome  in  dances. 
Petechia  appeared  on  various  parts  of  the 
body.  At  lad  the  vital  and  morbid  ac- 
tions difappeared  one  after  the  other,  the 
pulfe  became  imperceptible,  a  deathlike 
torpor  fucceeded  and  laded  fome  hours, 
after  which  the  patient  funk  into  th« 
arms  of  death.  The  duration  of  the  dif- 
eafe was  generally  from  1 8  to  SC  hours, 
Of  eight  or  nine  patients  afTedled,  only 
one  recovered,  though  the  mod  adlivc 
pra^ice  was  employed.  Infpedlion  of 
the  bodies  of  4  of  the  difeafed  difcovered 
nothing  very  remarkable.  The  veffels  of 
the  brainand  iu  membranes,  efpecially  the 
pia  mater,  were  fomewhat  turgid  with 
blood  ;  the  domach  and  intedinal  canal 
flightly  inflamed.  Mediield  is  a  village 
18  miles  from  Bodon.  It  contains  800  in- 
habitants, and  is  confidered  healthful. 
In  the  lad  autumn,  many  cafes  occurred 
of  the  autumnal  fever,  but  it  was  not  un- 
ufually  fatal.  No  peculiar  local  cauTe 
has  been  dete<lled,  which  can  pofliblv  be 
confldered  the  fource  of  this  difeafe. 
The  patients  were  within  a  fpace  of  two 
miles  ;  but  there  was  no  reaibn  to  think 
the  difeafe  was  communicated  from  one 
to  another.  In  one  indance,  two  of  the 
stffedted  were  of  the  fame  family.  We 
have  related  the  fa<5b,  and  leave  others 
to  fpeculate  upon  them. 

The  appearance  of  fmaU  p^x,  in  this 
town  and  a  neighbouring  one,  during 
this  month,  has  produced  a  large  number 
of  cafes  of  vaccination  ;  fo  that  there  it 
fcarcely  a  phyiician  in  town,  who  hasr 
liot,  at  prefent,  fome  patients  with  the 
difeafe. 


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THE 


MONTHLY    ANTHOLOGY. 


MAY,     1806. 


ORIGINAL  LETTERS  FROM  EUROPE. 


JV'o.  5. 


J^ozzuoii„Jhe    So{faterra,„Monte   Jsruovo...Lakc   of  ^vemut... Ruins  of 
£aix,.,BathM  qf  J\/ero,.,Cafie  Miaenua.^Elysian  fieida. 


1  MUST  carry  you  once  more 
through  the  grotto,  to  see  the  en- 
virons of  Pozzuoli,  abounding  with 
Tarious  interesting  objects.  It  is 
necessary  to  leave  the  carriage  at 
Pozzuoli,  and  take  a  mule  or  a 
boat,  according  to  the  object  you 
have  in  view. 

PozzuoH  is  a  small  town,  about 
five  miles  fromNaples  ;  it  is  at  pre- 
sent a  place  of  little  consequence, 
though  the  ruins  of  its  ancient  edi- 
fices attest  its  former  importance. 
As  the  works  of  nature  demand 
precedence  of  those  of  art,  I  shall 
give  you  some  account  of  the  val- 
ley of  Solfaterra,  situated  about  a 
mile  from  the  town.  After  ascend- 
ing gradually  the  greater  part  of  a 
mile,  the  road  descended  a  little 
and  entered  the  valley.  This  is 
an  ancient  volcanick  crater,  about 
half  a  mile  in  circumference.  The 
bottom  is  composed  principally  of 
sulphur  in  a  crude  state.  If  you 
take  up  a  stone  and  let  it  fall  upon 
the  ground,the  hollow  sound  which 
is  returned  is  a  proof  of  the  cavity 
beneath,  and  makes  you  tremble  at 
your  situation.  It  is  surrounded 
by  rugged  rocks,  except  at  the  en- 
trance, which  exhibit  the  action  of 
fire  to  which  they  have  been  ex- 
posed, and  in  many  different  places 
the  smoke  is  seen  climbing  up  their 

Vol.  III.  No.  5.     2E 


summits.  At  the  extremity  of  the 
valley  a  building  is  elected  for 
making  allum  ;  and  the  boilers 
are  heated  by  the  natural  fire  of 
the  place.  The  hot  vapour  and 
steam  here  issue  through  the  crev- 
ices with  violence  and  noise:  .  o 
one  unused  to  these  scenes  these 
"workmen  did  not  appear  in  a  safe 
situation  ;  but  habit  subdues  fear, 
and  the  workmen  have  no  more  idea 
of  danger  than  if  they  were  working 
at  a  common  fire.  I  saw  many 
beautiful  specimens  of  native  siilr 
phur,  and  many  christalizations  cf 
sulphur  and  nitre  ;  but  they  are 
so  liable  to  be  destroyed  by  the 
moisture  that  I  did  not  think  it 
worth  while  to  bring  them  away. 

In  the  neighbourhood  of  Pozzuoli 
are  the  ruins  of  an  ancient  amphi- 
theatre of  great  extent.  Tv/o  sto- 
ries of  it  yet  remain.  In  a  garden 
in  the  town,  an  ancient  temple  was 
discovered  a  few  years  since,  be- 
neath the  surface  of  the  earth.  Ex- 
cavations were  made  by  order  of 
tlie  court,  and  the  temple  was 
cleared  of  the  dirt  and  rubbish  in 
which  it  was  buried  ;  all  the  movea- 
ble objects  were  transported  to  the 
museum  at  Poriici.  The  antiqu-i- 
rians  have  decided  that  it  was  ded- 
icated to  Jupiter  Serapis.  Tlie 
external  waJls  were  square,    and 


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•22& 


LETTERS   FROM   EUROPE. 


against  them  are  a  number  of  small 
chambers,  twelve  or  fifteen  feet 
square,  destmed  %f>  the  pnests. 
The  altar  in  the  centre  was  encir- 
cled with  superb  granite  columns, 
the  greater  part  of  which  are 
thrown  down.  The  temple  was 
formerly  filled  with  water  to  the 
height  of  seven  or  eight  feet,  and 
the  lower  part  of  these  columns 
pi^sent  the  same  appearance  as  a 
piece  of  wood  which  has  been,  in 
the  sailor's  piira»e,  honey -combed. 
The  worms  have  bored  iholes  in 
the  granite  four  or  five  inches  in 
depth,  some  of  them  big  enough 
to  insert^  a  finger.  When  it  is 
considered  that  granite  is  one  of 
the  hardest  species  of  stones,  these 
holes  must  cerUiinly  be  esteemed 
a  singular  cmioslty. 

Aixes  seeing  the  ruius  about 
Pozzuoli,  I  took  a  boat  to  cross  over 
to  the  coast  of  Baix.  Some  ruin- 
ed piers  which  project  into  the 
harbour,  are  vulgarly  called  the 
Bridge  of  Caligula,  but  are  supposr 
ed  io  be  the  ruins  o£  the  ancient 
mole.  I  landed  near  Monte  Nuovo, 
which  is  on  the  edge  of  the  water 
between  Pozzuoli  and  Boxx^  This 
mountain  is  about  a  mile  in  cii'- 
cunvfcrence,  and  two  hundred  feet 
perpendicular.  It  rose  up  on  the 
night  of  the  29th  of  September, 
1538,  after  a  succession  of  earth- 
quakes. It  buried  a  village  and 
separated  the  lake  of  Avernus. 
Its  surface  is. barren,  producing  on- 
Jy  a  few  shrubs,  and  coarse  grass. 
Behind  the  Monte  Nuovo  Is  the 
Lake  Avernus  inunortalfzed  in  the 
sixth  book  of  the  -^neid.  The 
gloomy  wood  tlrat  formerly  sur- 
rounded it,  that  pestilentfal  aii*, 
which  was  fatal  to  the  birds  who 
flew  over  it,  no  longer  exist,  ex- 
except  in  the  description  of  the 
poet.  I  cannot  give  you  a  better 
accomii  of  it  than  in  the  words  of 
manusciipt,before  quoted  :..."  The 
lake  of  Avernus  is  an  object  inter- 


esting to  the  naturalist,  the  poct^i 
the  historian.  It  is  the  crater  of  a 
volcano,  fi-lled  whh  \fater,  which 
was  sounded  by  admiral  Mann  and 
found  to  be  600  feet  in  depth  • 
Aristotle  calls  it  one  of  the  proi- 
gies  of  this  kind  that  existed  on 
the  earth.  The  ancient  Grecians 
made  it  their  hell,  imagined  it  to 
be  surrounded  with  four  rivers, 
and  gave  llieni.  names  of  rivers  in 
their  own  country.  The  Romans, 
wkh  VirgH  at  their  hcad,.fiftUowc4 
the  same  idea.  They  called  the 
Lucrme  Lake,  Cocytus  ;  the  Lake 
of  Fusaro,  Acheron  ;  the  baths  of 
Nero,  or  rather  the  subterranean 
source  of  them,  was  Phcgethon  ; 
and  lastly,  the  waters  in  the  ob- 
scure chambers  at  the  bottom  of 
the  lake  of  Avernus,  common] j 
called  the  Grotto  of  the  Syl»i 
were  the  Styx.  What  Homec 
says  of  the  Cimmerian  regions,  in 
tlie  travels  of  Ulysses,  relates  ac- 
cording to  Dacier  and  the  other 
criticks  to  the  environs  of  Avernus* 
Strabo  had  anciently  the  same 
opinion.  In  the  obscure,  gloomj 
wood,  that  formerl)F  surrounded 
this  place,  .£neas  gathered  the 
golden  branch  that  procured  him 
admittance  into  the  infernal  re- 
gions*" In  the  neighbourhood  arc 
a  great  many  ruinsr  among  which 
are  those  of  Gums. 

At  some  distance  fix>m  the 
Monte  Nuovo,  towards  Baia&,  are 
the  baths  of  Nero.  The  beach  is 
here  interrupted  by  some  rocks 
and  ruined  walls  which  project 
into  the  sea.  Among  these  the 
steam  and  vapour  is  continually  is- 
suing from  the  boiling  pool  below, 
whieli  is  at  the  extremity  of  a 
dark,  narrow,  winding  Gave«  To 
descend  to  this  boiling  water,  re- 
quires a  violent  effort  ;  it  is  neces- 
sary to  strip  to  the  skin,  and  even 
then  possess  considerable  resolu- 
tion to  penetrate  in  the  dark,  al- 
most  stifled  with  the  heat   and. 


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a-ETTBRS   FROM  BUR<yp». 


227 


<team.  A  fellow  is  always  ready 
with  a  bucket,  in  which  he  puts 
two  or  three  eggs,  and  going 
into  the  cave,  dips  it  into  the  pool 
below,  and  by  the  time  he  returns 
into  the  open  air,  the  eggs  are  suf- 
ficiently boiled.  I  eat  an  t^^ 
cooked  in  the  water  from  this  nat- 
^jffsA  cauldron  i  the  man  who  went 
down  appeared  to  be  much  exhaust- 
ed by  the  exertion,  I  entered  the 
jcave  a  little  way  to  experience  the 
-effect.  At  first  I  could  walk  up- 
right, without  any  inconvenience 
from  the  vapour  which  passedover 
my  head.  After  three  or  four 
ysurds,  it  was  necessary  to  stoop  a 
iittle  ;  and  in  progressing  farther  I 
went  upon  my  hands  and  knees,  till 
the  vapour  growing  hotter  and  hot- 
tec,  I  was  glad  to  turn  round  and 
escape  into  the  open  air.  This 
boiling  water  is  not  confined  to  a 
small  spot ;  even  on  the  beach,  un- 
der the  rocks  for  several  yards,  if 
you  scrape  away  the  sand  a  few  in- 
ches on  the  very  edge  of  the  water 
of  the  bay,  the  hole  is  filled  with 
boiling  water.  Near  these  rocks 
there  is  a  bathing  rooix\  with  an 
arched  ceiling,  on  yvhich  some  of 
the  stucco  is  stiU  remaining.  This 
Is  said  to  have  been  part  of  the 
palace  of  Nero,  and  was  probably 
supplied  from  the  boiling  source 
just  described. 

I  now  returned  to  the  boat,  and 
and  being  roired  a  short  distance, 
was  landed  at  Baiie.  Ancient  Ba- 
ix  is  now  covered  with  the  sea,  the 
highest  parts  of  a  fewbuilcfing^s  only 
remain.  Three  oi  these  are  very 
remarkable,  and  are  called  Tem- 
pio  di  Venere,  T^mpio  di  Mercu- 
no,Tempiodi  Minerva;  but  these 
names  are  given  vdthout  founda- 
tion, and  the  antiquarians  suppose 
them  to  have  been  anciently  Ther- 
mae. The  Temple  of  Mercury  is 
circular,  and  lighted  by  an  opening 
from  the  top  ;  the  earth  now  rises 


to  within  a  few  feet -of  the  cornice. 
A  very  strong  reverberation  is  pro- 
duced, by  striking  the  ground  with 
a  slick,  and  a  whisper  against  the 
wall  is  distinctly  heard  on  the  other 
side.  The  little  ruin  called  the 
Tempio  di  Venere  is  the  jnost  beau- 
tiful I  have  ever  seen.  It  is  of  an 
octagon  form,  overgrown  with  ivy, 
and  is  extremely  picturesque. 
These  and  some  other  shs^cless 
ruins  are  all  that  remain  of  an- 
cient Baix.  This  beautiful  coast 
has  experienced  the  most  extraor- 
dinary changes  from  the  violent 
earthquakcs,with  which  it  has  been 
ravaged.  Under  the  wall  of  a  large 
castle,in  a  very  commanding  situa- 
tion, arc  placed  a  few  Habitations, 
the  inhabitants  of  which  cultivate 
the  vineyards  situated  among  the 
ruins,  and  this  is  all  the  population 
of  modem  Baix.  What  a  re- 
verse !  Even  in  the  most  luxurious 
days  of  ancient  Rome,  this  place 
became  a  proverb  from  the  sensu- 
ality and  debauchery  of  its  inhabi- 
tants, the  beauty  of  the  climate,  and 
those  fascinating  shores,  once  the 
theme  of  the  poets  and  the  resort  of 
the  dissipated.  The  corruption  of 
Baix  was  a  theme  of  perpetual  satire 
with  the  moralists,  among  whom 
Martial  says  that  the  most  virtuous 
matron  in  Rome  would  be  convert- 
ed into  a  perfect  Messalina  in  tliis 
dangerous  residence.  Seneca  as- 
serts that  it  could  not  be  the  resi- 
dence of  any  person  possessed  of 
any  principle  of  virtue,  and  Cicero 
was  reproached  for  having  a  villa 
in  this  neighbourhood. 

No  longer  the  haunt  of  pleasure 
and  dissipation,  the  coastof  Baix  is 
strewed  with  hiins  ;  earthquakes 
have  destroyed  its  temples  and  pa- 
laces, but  the  delicious  climate  still 
remains,  and  the  landscape  is  still 
beautiful  and  picturesque. 

Again  embarking  I  lefl  Baix 
and  landed  on  the  other  side  of  the 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


228 


PRESENT  STATE  OF  LITERATURE 


Castle.  At  every  step  some  ruin 
is  to  be  seen  ;  one  is  pointed  out,  as 
being  the  tomb  of  Agrippina,  mur- 
dered by  her  infamous  son  :  but 
there  is  no  authority  for  this  sup- 
position. A  little  farther  on  are 
the  cente  camerclle^  or  the  prisons 
of  Nero.  These  are  narrow  subter- 
ranean gallerics,which  are  tliought 
to  have  supported  some  terrace. 
There  is  nothing  in  their  con- 
struction to  justify  the  idea  of  their 
having  been  prisons. 

After  gaining  the  summit  of  the 
hill,  the  guide  conducted  me  into 
the  fiisciene  mirabile.  This  is  a  vast 
reservoir,  under  ground,  about 
seventy  feet  in  depth  ;  the  roof  is 
supported  by  square  pillars  cover* 
ed  with  stucco,  ^vhich  are  as  entire 
as  if  they  had  been  just  constructed. 
This  immense  reservoir  was  for- 
merly filled  with  water,  though 
for  what  particular  purpose  is  not 
known.  It  is  generally  supposed  to 
have  been  for  the  Roman  fleet,  sta- 
tioned at  Miscnum.  The  water  has 
encrusted  these  columns  with  a  sub- 
stance of  excessive  hardness  ;  it  is 
half  an  inch  in  thickness,  and  is  ca- 
pable of  receiving  the  most  beau- 
tiful polish.  It  is  manufactured  into 
various  little  ornaments, 

from  this  hill  is  seen  the  pro- 


montory of  Misenum,  the  Mare 
Monte,  and  the  Elysian  Fields,  in 
which  are  the  ruins  of  ancient 
tombs.  This  view,which  the  pen- 
cil alone  can  give  any  idea  of,  does 
not  need  the  additional  interest, 
which  their  classick  names  excite, 
to  chain  the  admiring  stranger  to 
its  beauties.  The  most  interesting 
classick  recollections  here  unite 
with  the  fantastick,  the  wonderful, 
and  beautiful  appearances  of  na- 
ture to  excite  altemately  the  most 
delightful  sensations,  or  plunge 
the  mind  into  the  most  pleasing 
reveries.  Every  foot  of  these  pla- 
ces is  classick  ground,  and,  before 
viewing  them,  looking  into  some 
of  the  Roman  poets,  adds  vivacity 
to  the  sensations  they  excite ; 
above  all,  every  one  ought  to  read 
the  sixth  book  of  the  -£neid  before 
he  makes  this  excursion. 

The  pleasure  of  the  traveller,  in 
viewing  these  scenes,  is  interrupted 
and  partly  destroyed  by  the  number 
of  beggars,  which  surround  him. 
The  number  of  poverettos  and 
miserabiles  who  are  haunting  your 
steps  seem  like  the  ghosts  of  the 
ancient  inhabitants,  and  society 
appeared  to  me  to  be  more  ruined 
than  the  buildings. 


ACCOUNT   OF   THE   PRESENT   STATE   OF    LITERATURE   ANp    T^E    ARTS 

IN     ITALT. 

[Concluded  from  p.  184.] 


ON  our  arrival  at  the  frontiers 
of  the  Italian  Republick,  at  Scari- 
er, kisini,  situated  on  the  summit  of 
the  Appenines,  we  began  to  be 
tormcntetl  by  customhouse-offi- 
cers. In  tht  Roman  and  Tuscan 
territories  little  ceremony  had 
been  niade  respecting  our  passes 
and  trunks,  but  in  the  Republick 
we  were  treated  with  such  suspi* 


cious  severity,  that,  in  spite  of  all 
the  inconveniences  to  which  we 
were  subjected  by  this  conduct,  it 
frequently  appeared  perfectly  ludi- 
crous. I  had  a  parcel  of  books 
in  my  trunk,  and  had  not  the  least 
idea  that  they  could  give  any  um- 
brage ;  but  tllfey  causedtis  a  thou- 
sand vexations,  which  continued 
from  the  moment  \vc  entered  the 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


AXD   THE  -hn-Wa  INMTALT. 


S2f 


Repttbiick  till  we  reached  the  foot 
of  the  Splii^cn,  where  its  juris- 
diction terminates.  When  the 
books  were  discovered,  I  \^  as  told 
that  my  trunk  must  be  scaled  up 
till  we  arrived  at  Bologna,  because 
the  strictest  orders  had  been  issu- 
ed to  suffer  no  books  to  enter  the 
territories  of  the  State,  without 
the  precaution  of  sending  them 
sealed  to  Bologna,  where  they 
would  be  returned  to  me  after  they 
had  been  rerised.  When  I  ex-> 
pressed  my  surprize  to  tlie  custom- 
house-officer, and  added,  that  I 
should  have  expected  such  a  pro- 
ceeding in  the  Papal  dominions, 
but  not  in  the  Italian  Republick, 
he  replied  very  frankly,  "  Yes,  it 
should  be  so  ;  but  at  present  we 
are  more  afraid  of  books  than  of 
the  Pope."  At  Bologna,  notwith- 
standing all  my  remonstrances, 
my  books  were  declared  to  be 
merchandize,  and  in  that  city,  as 
well  as  at  Parma  and  Milan,  I  was 
obliged  to  pay  duty  for  them  as 
such.  During  all  this  time  I  was 
never  master  of  my  trunks,  for  in 
all  the  towns  through  which  we 
passed,  they  were  detained  at  the 
custom  house.  In  this  blessed 
nepublick  all  the  regulations  rela- 
tive to  travellers  are  calculated 
only  to  harass  and  extort  money. 
In  the  Parmesan,  which  is  now  a 
French  province,  we  experienced 
the  same  vexatious  treatment  as 
to  our  trunks,  passes,  &c. 

Our  residence  at  Bologna  was 
»  short,  that  I  could  only  visit  the 
Gallery  of  Sampicri,  where  many 
<>W  impressions  were  renewed, 
h)  this  city  Italian  literature  still 
njMntains  th^  prepondei'ance,  and 
I  found  only  two  booksellers  who 
I  *oW  French  works.  At  Modena, 
^arma,  and  Milan,  the  trade  in 
French  books,  and  probably  the 
^udy  of  French  literature,  is  at 
ie^  on  a  par  with  the  Italian.  At 


Bologna  I  met  with  a  few  moro 
books  in  the  Bolognese  dialect,  for 
my  collection  of  the  various  dia- 
lects of  Italy. 

At  Modena  there  are  few  works 
of  art  worthy  of  notice,  since  the 
ducal  collection  has  been  remi^ved 
from  the  palace. — At  the  library, 
which  is  admirably  arranged,  and 
is  particularly  copious  in  historical 
works,  I  spoke  with  the  Padres 
Pozzetti  and^Scotti,  who  jointly 
perform  the  office  of  librarian^ 
which  was  before  held  by  T^ra- 
boschi,  and  his  predecessor,  Mura- 
tori,  alone.  The  manuscripts  oc- 
cupy a  spacious  apartment.  A- 
mong  other  curiosities  I  saw  a 
beautiful  copy  of  Provcn9al  Poems^ 
containing  pieces  by  143  different 
poets.  At  a  bookseller's  in  this 
place  I  found  two  new  works, 
which  considerably  interested 
me.  One  of  these  was  an 
Italian  Translation  of  Kotzebue'9 
Misanthropy  and  Repentance* 
and  the  other  an  Exposition 
and  Examination  of  Kant's  Philc* 
sophy,  by  Francesco  Soave.  Out 
of  curiosity  I  bought  the  latter,  a 
pamphlet  of  only  108  pages,  fifty^ 
two  of  which  are  occupied  with 
the  Exposidon,  and  the  remainder 
with  the  Examination.  Upon 
closer  inspection  I  found  that  what 
the  author  calls  his  Exposidon,  is 
nothing  more  than  a  scanty  ex* 
tract  from  that  of  Villars.  In  his 
Dedication  to  the  Vice-President 
Melzi,  he  says,  that  he  undertook 
this  examination  of  a  Systemic 
which  is  beginning  to  extend  itself 
in  Italy,  only  vrith  a  view  to  warn 
and  caution  youth  against  study n 
ing  it ;  for,  says  he,  in  another 
place,  it  has  been  forbidden  even 
in  Germany  by  several  Govemi 
ments,  and  has  been  ill-received  by 
almost  all.  After  this  it  may 
easily  be  conceived  how  his  ex-» 
amination  and  refutation  are  con^ 


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MO 


PRESENT  STATE  OT  LXTEEATURK 


ducted.  It  does  not  appear  that  M. 
Soave  has  understood)  or  taken  in 
A  proper  sense,  a  single  sentence 
of  liis  author  ;  and  even  what  is 
most  intelligible  is  distorted  and 
placed  in  a  ludicrous  light.  I 
was'  informed,  when  too  late,  that 
this  Italian  Anti -Kan list  resides  at 
Modena,  where  he  is  teacher  of 
philosophy  at  the  CoUegio^  or  JJceo 
•/Vaztona/r,  otherwise  J  should  have 
made  a  personal  acquaintance  with 
bim.  Soave  has  long  been  esteem- 
ed in  Italy  as  a  man  of  talents. 
He  is  the  author  and  translator  of 
eeveral  works,  and  has  written  a 
Grammatica  Ragionata  diUa  Un* 
gua  JtaUanoy  which  is  accounted 
the  best  Italian  Grammar  extant, 
though  it  is  rather  a  sketch  than 
a  complete  work  ;  likewise  a  col- 
lection of  Novcld  Morally  in  two 
volumes,  each  containing  eighteen 
tales  which  are  narrated  with  great 
case,  and  are  in  high  estimation 
fcr  the  elegance  and  purity  of 
their  style.  He  has  likewise  writ- 
ten a  System  of  Logick  and  Meta- 
physicks,  after  the  manner  of 
Locke  and  Condillac.  Among 
his  translations,  that  of  Virgil's 
Georgics  is  much  esteemed.  He 
has  likewise  render dd  into  his  nsu> 
tive  language  the  Idylls  of  Gesner, 
and  the  Abstract  of  Locke  on 
the  Human  Understanding,  by 
Wynne. 

At  Parma  I  found,  to  my  re» 
gret,  that  the  beautiful  Corregios 
which  I  saw  there  ten  years  since, 
were  gone.  I  was  unable  to  ob- 
tain admission  to  the  pieces  by 
Corregio,  which  were  found  in  an 
apartment  in  a  nunnery,  and  which 
Bodoni  made  known  in  a  splendid 
work,  with  a  description  by  Ghc- 
rardo  de  Rossi,  of  Rome.  Bodoni 
would,  however,  have  procured 
me  access  to  them,  had  not  the 
t»nly  person  that  can  entei*  the  con- 
vent  whenever  he    pkasQs,   the 


French  Prefect,  who  is  a  friend  of 
Bodoni's,  been  indbposed.  The 
designs  for  the  engravings  of  Bo- 
doni's work  were  sketched  by 
Vieyra,  a  Portuguese,  in  a  few 
hours.  Another  artist,  of  the 
name  of  Trcvisani,  is  at  present 
employed  by  the  French  Prefect 
in  taking  copies  of  them  in  oil. 
At  the  Academy,  which  now  con- 
tains nothing  but  the  prize-pieces 
of  young  artists,  I  heheld,  on  a 
small  scale,  the  effects  of  French 
repacity,  which  we  experienced  at 
Rome  in  a  much  greater  degree. 
AH  the  antique  statues  which  for- 
merly stood  in  the  hall  of  the  A- 
cademy,  and  those  dug  out  of  the 
subterraneous  ruins  of  Velleji, 
stood  packed  up  in  chests,  ready 
to  be  sent  off  to  Paris.  Am5ng 
them  were  some  busts  of  Emper- 
ors, and  figures  with  most  exqui- 
site draperies. 

Bodoni's  printing-office  at  Par- 
ma is  a  curiosity  which  no  travel- 
ler ought  to  omit  seeing:  The 
proprietor  himself  is  a  man  of  the 
utmost  politeness,  cordiality,  and 
good^nalure,  with  whom  you 
feel  the  same  freedom  in  the  first 
minute  as  with  an  old  friend.  His 
acquaintances  know  perfectly- well 
how  to  take  advantage  of  his  dis« 
position  to  serve  every  one.  When 
any  of  them  has  produced  a  pal- 
try poem,  a  discourse,  or  any 
worthless  trifle,  the  kind  Bodoni  is 
easily  prevailed  upon  to  print  it  ; 
and  thus  a  great  quantity  of  trash 
passes  through  his  presses,  and  is 
purchased  at  high  prices,  on  ac- 
count of  the  beautiful  type,  by  the 
collectors  of  works  of  his  printing. 
His  splendid  editions  of  the  Latia 
Classicks  are  in  less  estimation 
than  the  Italian,  because  they  are 
not  very  correct.  Didot  has  de* 
tected  a  number  of  very  gress 
errors  in  his  Virgil.  Of  hb  Ital- 
ian authors,  the  works  of  Tasso^ 


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AlfD   THE   ARTS   IN   ITALT. 


3^! 


Aminta^    and     the    Gierusalemma 
Ubermtay    edited    by    the     Abate 
Serassi)  are  in  high  repute    for 
their  correctness.     His  Petrarca 
deserves  the     same    commenda- 
tion.    On  the  contrary,  the  admi- 
i^le  Roman  edition  of  Dante,  by 
Padre  Lombardi,  is  justly  prefer- 
red to  Bodoni's,  which  was  edited 
by  Monsignor  Dionisi,  of  Verona. 
Dionisi    ought    perhaps  to  have 
been  more  capable  than  any  other 
person   of    producing  a    correct 
edition  of  the   Divina    Commediay 
for  he  devoted  about  thirty  years 
of  bis  life  almost  entirely  to  the 
study  of  Dante,  and  there  is  not  a 
manuscript  in   Italy,  not  an  early 
or  a  rare  edition,  which  he  has  not 
collated,  for  the  sake  of  the   dif- 
ferent readings.     But  instead  of 
taking  one  of  the  best  editions  for 
his  ground  work,  and  then  judi- 
ciously selecting  the  best  readmgs, 
he  has,  according  to  his  caprice, 
composed  a  Pasticcio  of  them  all, ' 
and  produced  a  text  that  has  no 
other  authority  than  the  taste  of 
Monsignor  Dionisi,  which    none 
can  certainly  allow  to  be  genuine. 
Padre  Lombards,  during  the  eigh- 
teen years  be  was  employed  on  his 
Dante,   likewise  collated  most  of 
the  MSS.  and  early  editions  ;  but 
posessing  more  judgment,  he  se- 
lected the  Mdobeatina  edition  for 
his   groundwork.     He   gives  his 
reasons  for  rejecting  or  admitting 
certain  readings,  which  are  almost 
always  judicious,   and,  in   conse- 
quence of  fortunate    conjectures, 
which  he  afterwards  found  con- 
firmed by  MSS.,  has  amended  the 
text  where  it  wanted  correction. 
On  this  account  Bodoni's  Dante  is 
in  less  request,  while  his   Tasso 
and  Petrarca  are  caught  up  with 
avidity.    He  defers  his  intended 
cditiui  of  Ariosto,  which  the  ama- 
teurs have   long  been  anxiously 
expecting; ;  he  says  he  is  afraid  of 


^  undertaking  a  work  of  such  mag* 
nitude,  in  six  volumes,  and  various 
sizes.  He  has  an  idea  of  com- 
mencing  a  Homer,  in  four  vol- 
umes, in  large  folio.  He  intends 
to  print  only  the  text,  and  was  still 
undecided  what  edition  to  select 
for  the  groundwork.  My  com- 
panion, M.  Riemer,  a  worthy  pu- 
pil of  Wolf,  advised  him  to  take 
the  edition  by  that  author,  which 
is  universally  acknowledged  to  be 
the  best,  both  for  the  correctness 
of  the  text  and  of  the  impression. 

The  two  equestrian   statues  of 
the  Dukes  Alexander  and  Ranieri 
Faniese,  in  the  square  at  Placenza, 
deserves  to  be  ranked  among  the 
most  distinguished  productions  of 
modem  art,    notwithstanding  all 
the  violations  of  good  taste  observ- 
able in  their  style.      They    arc 
symbolicaL     The   hero  Alexan* 
der  is  represented  riding  against 
the  tempest,  which  blows  back  his 
robe  and  the  mane  of  his  snorting 
charger.    The  whole  group  has 
an  air  of  boldness,  and  appears  to 
be  pushing  forward  with  a  resolu- 
tion becoming  a    warrior.     The 
figure  of  Alexander  Is  however 
rather  too  mean  for  a  hero.     The 
other,  who  is  a  statesman,  rides  at 
a  more  moderate  pace,  and  in  a 
more    cautious     manner.      The 
forms  of  both  the  horses  might  be 
better  ;  but  there  is  great  spirit  it| 
their  movements. — How  different 
is   the  impression  made  by  the 
representation  of  a  Cosmo  de  Medi- 
ci, an   Alexander  Famese  in  the 
coat  of  mail  of  the  middle  ages, 
and  mounted  on  a  stately  charger, 
and  by  tlie  figure  of  a  naked  Bon- 
aparte, striding    forward  with  a 
globe  in  one  hand,  and  a  long  stick 
in  the  other,  as  Canova  has  repre- 
sented him,  and  for  which,  as  may 
easily  be  conjectured,  that  artist 
has  received  tmbounded  applause. 
The  nearer  the  traveller  ap- 


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232 


^RESENT   STATE   OF   LITERATURE  IN    ITALY. 


|jroaches  to  Milan,  the  more  dusty, 
but  likewise  the  more  lively,  the 
roads  become.  The  soil  is  also  in 
a  much  higher  state  of  cultivation. 
To  discover  here  any  traces  of  the 
war  would  require  a  penetrating 
eye  :  that  its  effects  are  still  felt 
both  by  the  inhabitants  of.  the 
country  and  of  the  city,  I  was  in- 
formed by  several  :  yet  the  gener- 
al affluence  and  the  native  industry 
of  the  people  announce,  that  in  a 
few  years  of  peace  they  would 
cease  to  be  felt,  if  the  mother  re- 
publick  did  not  continually  send 
out  new  leeches.  Milan  is  at  pre- 
sent, beyond  dispute,  the  most 
cheerful  and  lively  town  in  Italy  ; 
iaind  though  in  the  populous  city 
of  Naples  there  may  be  more 
noise  and  tumult,  yet  in  the  for- 
mer there  is  more  ideally  useful 
activity  and  bustle.  The  exces- 
sive luxury  which  now  prevails  at 
Milan,  indeed  shews  that  a  small 
number  are  revelling  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  majority.  You,  how- 
ever, perceive  no  misery  ;  and 
though  the  necessaries  of  life  are 
dear,  yet  there  is  a  great  quantity  of 
specie  in  circulation.  Every  thing 
is  so  Frenchified  at  Milan,  that 
you  scarcely  conceive  yourself  to 
be  in  Italy  ;  and  to  a  person  com- 
ing from  the  south  of  Italy,  the 
Milanese  dialect  sounds  like  a 
French  Patois, 

In  this  place  you  hear  a  great 
number  of  the  literati  speaking  of 
Kant's  philosophy,  but  I  did  not 
meet  with  one  who  was  acquainted 
with  it  intimately,  and  through  the 
original  source.  In  general,  an 
Inexpressible  confusion  and  fer- 
mentation at  present  prevails  in 
the  heads  of  the  young  Uterati  at 
Milan.  Unfortunately  it  can  nev- 
er take  a  favourable  turn  as  long  as 
they  are  obliged  to  borrow  the 
light  that  is  to  illumine  them  from 
their  neighbours  on   the    Seine. 


The  celebrated  poet  Monti,  who 
obtained  such  reputation  by  his 
BafisevUliade^  is  lecturer  of  the  bH* 
les'httres  at  the  academy  of  Brera. 
The  Academy  of  arts  is  under 
the  direction  of  a  young  artist,  of 
twenty- five,  called  Bossi,  who  not- 
withstanding his  youth,  fills  that 
post  with  ability  and  dignity.  He 
is  an  artist  of  extraordinary  talent, 
and  an  uncommonly  cultivated 
mind.  By  his  means  many  an 
important  improvement  has  alrea- 
dy been  made  in  the  academy,  and 
he  hopes  to  eff«ct  otliers  with  the 
assistance  of  Mclzi,  whose  confi- 
dence he  possesses.  The  class  of 
decorators  and  of  the  artisans  in 
general,  who  make  architectonic 
ornaments,  enjoys  the  benefit  of 
the  instruction  and  models  of  Al- 
bertolli,  the  most  expert  artist  in 
that  line  in  all  Italy.  Nothing  can 
be  more  tasteful,  more  neat  and 
ornamental,  than  his  drawings  and 
inventions,  which  arc  partly  known 
by  three  volumes  of  engravings 
of  his  embellishments.  Appiani 
is  esteemed  a  capital  portrait- 
painter,  and  indeed  the  first  in 
Italy,  and  he  deserves  that  char- 
acter ;  but  he  must  not  be  com- 
pared with  the  ancient  great  por- 
trait painters  of  Italy  and  other 
countries.  Our  modem  art  has 
its  peculiar  character,  and  a  par- 
ticular point  from  which  it  must 
be  viewed.  Our  present  painters 
are  no  more  able  to  rival  Titian, 
Raphael,  Diirer,  and  Holbein,  than 
our  sculptors  can  vie  with  those 
of  ancient  times.  The  ancient 
works  are  the  fixed  classick  rule, 
the  standard  of  unattainable  excel- 
lence, and  only  to  approach  this 
perfection  is  a  great  commenda- 
tion for  a  modem  artist.  A  mod- 
em production  of  art  possesses 
great  merit  if  it  but  evince  sotinc 
traces  of  resemblance  to  the  works 
of  antiquity,    1  saw  some  per* 


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SILVA. 


2S5 


traits  at  Appi^ni's,  which  had 
much  nature  and  gracefulness  in 
the  disposition.— -His  colouring  is 
charmingt  but  not  ti*ue  ;  rather 
delicate  than  strong.  I  was  par- 
liculfirly  pleased  with  his  treat- 
ment of  inferiour  objects,  which 
appear  to  be,  but  actually  are  not, 
neglected.  They  are  merely  sub* 
ordinate  to  the  principal  subject. 
This  artist  has  likewise  made 
some  attempts  in  tlie  historical 
way,  but  be  will  scarcely  obtain 
cmy  great  reputation  in  that  Line. 
He  is  not  destitute  of  inventive 
taient,  but  his  composition  and  de- 
sign are  deficient  in  style,  and  his 
£gui*es  in  character.  Appiani 
possesses  a  Madonna  in  excellent 
preservation,  said  to  be  by  Leonar- 


do da  Vinci,  to  which  he  attaches 
a  very  high  value,  but  upon  near- 
er examination  it  might  perhaps 
be  only  a  Luini. 

Such  are  the  few  observations  I 
had  an  opportunity  of  making  on 
literature  and  the  aits  during  my 
expeditious  jouraey  through  Italy. 
I  now  hasten  to  close  my  long  let- 
ter, while  I  cast  a  fai^ewel  look 
towards  the  enchanting  land  in 
which  I  have  resided  almost  ten 
years,  which  I  love  as  my  adopted 
country,  which  has  furnished  me 
with  a  never-failing  source  of  ex- 
quisite recollections, and  which,  in 
the  gloomy  and  inclement  regions 
of  the  North,wiIl  present  my  fancy 
with  the  images  of  a  screner  hea- 
ven and  a  more  delightful  earth. 


SILVA. 

Nii  mm  wnrtaU  temmuty 
^tdorit  eiueptut  ittgemtqui  bonis. 


M.    15. 


OVZD. 


IN  some  such  gloomy  moment 
as  that  of  parting  with  a  friend,  or 
of  wounding  my  body,  I  cannot 
but  meditate  on  the  evanescent 
nature  of  human  life.  These 
heavens,  say  I,  are  magnificent, 
but  I  shall  not  always  behold  them : 
this  terrestrial  scenery  is  luxuriant 
and  beautiful,  but  it  will  not  charm 
me  forever.  I  had  a  fiiend,  in 
whose  vigour  I  rejoiced,  whose 
knowledge  instructed,  and  whose 
humour  delighted  me  ;  but  the 
place  that  knew  him  knows  him 
no  more«  If  I  repair  to  the  well- 
known  closet,  its  occupant  is  gone ; 
if  I  visit  the  parlour  circle,  his 
musical  and  facetious  voice  is  not 
heard.  At  club,  on  'change,  in 
the  mall,  I  no  longer  meet  his  in- 
telligent eye,  nor  grasp  his  benef- 
icent hand.  If  I  nsit  his  tomb,  I 
see  nothing  but  a  mass  of  offensive 
ashes.     Yet  he  is  immortal  by  his 

Vol.  III.  No.  5.     2F 


living  thoughts  and  glowmg  words. 
The  ars  omnium  conservatrix  ar- 
tium  still  reflects  the  image  of  his 
heart  and  shows  the  imperishable 
beauty  of  his  mind.  I  learn  in- 
struction from  the  fact.  I  too 
would  leave  some  print  of  my 
hand  and  some  vestige  of  my  foot 
in  the  dust  of  this  globe.  1  cheer- 
fully assist  in  planting  this  forest 
and  forming  this  parterre,  in  the 
hope  that  they  will  live  in  youthful 
efflorescence,  when  he  who  now 
sees  me  at  my  labour,  shall  seek 
me  and  I  shall  not  be. 

PROGRESS   OF   THE   ARTS. 

First  the  necessary  arts  are 
practised,  aftci-ward  those  which 
are  convenient  and  pleasurable. 
First  hunting,  then  fowling,  then 
fishing.  First  pasturage,  then  ag- 
riculture, then  gardening.  First 
thatched  houses,  then  log...framed 


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236 


SILVA. 


....bnck stone marble.      First 

besmearing  the  body,  then  skins.... 
coaree  cloths... .dyed  cloths...lmeiTs 
. ...muslins... .bleaching....vftishiTig... 
and  all  the  tinkHng  omaments  of 
a  ParifiianbeUe. 

BLAIR 

is  justly  esteemed  an  elegant  wri*- 
ter  ;  but  his  labour  is  fuHy  ecjiial 
to  his  success.  Without  a  parti* 
cle  of  genius,  he  disputes  the 
ground  with  faine  inch  by  inch. 
He  fabricates  hi^  sentences  as  the 
weaver  does  his  cloth,  yet  with 
more  toi3,  and  less  satisfactit>». 

PETRONlrS*  AHniTER. 

None  better  deserves  a  page  m 
eccentrick  biography  than  this  ex- 
traordinary man.  He  seems  to 
have  possessed  the  learning,  know F- 
edge  oC  the  world,  and  the  graces, 
which  lord  Chesterfield  so  eagerly 
desired  for  bis  son.  He  was  a 
scholar,  a  courtier,  and  a  debau- 
chee. In  his  consular  office  he 
emulated  the  patriotism  of  Drutus 
and  the  dignity  of  Scipro  ;  yet  in 
private  life  he  was  an  extravagant 
epicure,  and  tolerated  in  his  friends 
the  grossest  impurities.  He  had 
an  almost  incredible  versatility  of 
temper  and  talents.  As  occasion 
suited,  he  could  be  grave  with  phi- 
losophers, a  mimick  with  buffoons, 
cruel  as  Nero  his  master,  or  spor- 
tive as  the  lamb  that  frolkks  on 
the  mountain's  side.  He  spent 
the  day  in  sleep  and  negligence, 
and  the  night  in  loves,  gaiety  and 
song.  He  was  serious  in  trifles, 
and  he  trifled  with  every  thing  se- 
rious. He  even  mocked  the  so- 
lemnities of  death,  caosmg  his 
veins  to  be  opened  and  closed  al- 
ternately, untfl  nature  refused  to 
supply  ferther  opportunity  to  his 
'  indifference  and  pastime.  He  was 
equally  singular  in  his  writings. 
•Sometimes  he  scourged  and  some- 


times he  praised  the  proflllgatie  fa-^ 
vou  rites  of  a  profligate  court,  and 
used  liis  wit  and  learning  by  turns 
to  provoke  and  to  condemn  the 
excesfses  of  his  time.  But  notwith^ 
standing  the  depravity  of  his  man- 
ners and  the  obscenity  of  his  pca^ 
there  ai^  several  editions  of  his 
works ;  and  the  ingenuity  of  chris- 
tian editors  has-  been  often  exer- 
cised to  ascertain  the  meaning  of 
hi's  fttnny  punsy  imd  indicate  the 
point  of  his  wicked  epigrams.  The 
following  story  wiU  show  the  play- 
ful elegance  of  his  satire,  though 
none  will  believe  k  as  a  matter  of 
fact.  Matrona  quacdam  Ephesi 
tarn  notje  erat  pudickix,  ut  vicina- 
rum  quoque  gentium  feminas  ad 
stri  spectacukim  evocaret,  Haec 
ergo  cum  virum  extulissit,  non 
contenta  vulgari  more  funus  pas- 
sis  prosequi  crinibus,  aut  nuda- 
lum  pectus  in  conspectu  frequen- 
tix  pteBgere^,  in  conditorium  etiam 
prosequuta  est  deftnactum,  posi- 
tumque  in  hypogceo,  grxco  more, 
corpus  custodire  ac  ftere  totis  noc- 
tibus  dicbasqne  ceppit.  Sic  afflic- 
tantem  se  ac  mortem  inedia-  pcr- 
sequentem  non  parentes  potuei-unt 
abducere,  non  propinqur  :  magis- 
tratus  ultimo  repulsr  abierunt  : 
complorataque  ab  omnibns  singu- 
laris  exempli  femma  quintum  jam 
diem  sine  alimento  trahebat.  As- 
sidebat  xgrx  fidis^ima  ancSla,  si- 
iTiul\:]ue  et  lacr}*mascommendabat 
lugenti,  et  quoties  defecerat^  posi- 
tum  m  monumcnto  lumen  renova- 
bat.  Una  igitur  in  tota-  civitate 
fabnla  erat  ;  ct  solum  ilind  afful- 
sisse  Terum  pudicitisc  amorisque 
exemplum  omnh  ordinis  homines 
confitebantur  :  cum  interim  iui- 
perator  provrnicx  latrones  jussit 
crucibus  affigi,  secundum  illam 
eandem  casulam,in  qua  recens  ca- 
daver matrona,  deflebat.  Proxima 
ergo  nocte  cum  miles,  qui  cruccs- 
servabat,  ue  quis  ad  sepulturam 


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237 


coqK>ra  detmberet,  notasset  sibi 
et  lumen  inter  monumenta  darius 
fulgeas,  et  gemitum  lugentis  au- 
disset  ;  vitio  gentis  humans  con- 
cupiit  scire  quis  aut  quid  faceret. 
Desceudit  igilur  in  conditorium  ; 
tisaque  pulcherrima  muliere,  pri- 
me quasi  quodam  monstro,  infer- 
nisque  imaginibus  turbatus  siib- 
stitit :  deinde  ut  et  corpus  jacen- 
tis  conspexit,  et  lacrymas  conside- 
ravit,  fticiemque  unguibus  sectam  ; 
ratus  scilicet,  quod  erat,  desideri- 
om  exstincti  non  posse  feminam 
pati  ;  attulit  in  monumentum  cx- 
nulara  suam,  coepitgue  hortari  lu- 
gentem.  Re  perseveraret  in  dolore 
supervacuo,  et  nihff  profuturo  ge- 
mitu  pectus  diduceret :  omnium 
eundem  exitum  esse  :  sed  et  idem 
domicilium  ;  et  cxtera,  quibus  ex- 
iilceratx  mentes  ed  sanitatem  rc- 
vocantur.  At  ilia  ignota  consolar 
tione  percussa,  lac.eravit  \cehemen- 
tius  pectus,  ruptosque  crines  su- 
per pectus  jacentis  imposuit.  Nee 
recess't  tamen  miles  sed  eadem 
exhoitatione  ^entavit  dare  mulier- 
culx  cibum,  donee  ancilia  vini 
.certe  ab  eo  odoia:  -corrupta,  pri- 
mum  ipsa  porrexit  ad  humanita- 
tem  invitantis  victam  manum  : 
deinde  refecta  potion  e  et  cibo,  ex- 
pugnare  doming  pertinuciam  ccc- 
pit :  et  quid  proderit,  iiui\iit,  hoc 
tibi^  ^  soluta  inedi^  fueris ,?  si  tc 
vjvaui  scpeliens  ,?  si>  ^ntequam 
fata  poscautjin^cmnatum  spirivum 
eftuderis  ? 

JdcSnercmaut  nuoes  credto  curare  sepultos! 

\1s  tu  rcviviscere  reluctantibiis 
^tis  exstinctum  ?  vis  discusso 
muliebri  errore,  quam  diu  licuc- 
rit,  lucis  commodis  frui  ?  ipsnm 
te  jacentis  corpus  ammonere  debet, 
ut  vi\'a3.  Nemo  invitus  audit, 
cum  cogitur  aut  cibum  sumere, 
aut  vivere.  Itaque  mulicr  aliquot 
die  rum  abstinentia  sicca,  passa  est 
frangi  pertinaciam  suam  :  ncc  mi- 


nus avide  replevit  sc  cibo,  quara 
ancilia,  quae  prior  victa  est.  Cx- 
terum  scitis  quid  tentare  plerum- 
que  soleat  humanam  satietatem. 
Quibus  blanditiis  impetraverat  mi- 
les, ut  matron  a  vivere  vellet,  iisdem 
etiam  pudicitiam  ejus  aggressus 
est.  Nee  deformis,  aut  infacun- 
dus  juvenis  castac  videbaKtr,  con- 
cihante  gratiam  ancilia,  ac  subindc: 

— PI)dtone  ctUm  pugnabk  unorl  f 

Ncc  vcuk  lo  mcntem  (^uoniBi-cosedcri*  arvli  f 

Quid  duitius  moror  ?  ne  banc  qui- 
dcm  mulier  partem  corporis  ab- 
stinuit  victorque  miles  utrumque 
pci«Guasit.  Jacucrunt  ergo  una,  non 
tantum  illanocte,  quanaptiasf«.c-- 
runt,  sed  postero  etiam  ac  teriio 
die,  prxclusis  videlicet  conditorii 
fonbus)  vut  quhque  ex  notis  igno- 
tisque  ad  momimepitum  venisset, 
putasset  exspirasse  supei*  corpus 
viri  pudicissimam  uxorem.  Cx- 
terum  delectatus  miles  et  fonna 
mulieris  ct  secreto,  qUicquid  boni 
qili  facultates  proterat,  coemebat  ; 
et  prima  stattm  nocte  in  monu- 
mentimi  ferebat.  Itaque  <:ruci- 
arii  unius  parentes,  ut  ^nderu^t 
laxatam  custodiam,  detraxcre  noc- 
te pendentem,  supremo  que  man- 
davcrunt  officio.  At  miles  cir- 
cumscriptus  dum  rcsidet,  ut  pos- 
tero die  vidit  unam  sine  caduverc 
crucem  ;  veritus  supplicium,  mu- 
licri,  q\iid  acciifisset,  tx^x)nit  :  ncc 
sc  cxspectaturom  judicis  sentcn- 
tiam,  sed  gladio  jus  dictum ni  iij- 
navix  sux  :  oommodarct  modo  ilia 
pciiluro  locum  et  fittale  conditori- 
\im  familiar!  ac  \nro  faceret.  Mu- 
licr non  minus  niisei^cors  quam 
pudica  ;  Ncc  istud,  inquii,  Dii 
sinant  ut  codem  ter^ipore  duovuni 
carissimorvmi  homlnum  duo  func- 
ra  spcrtem  :  malo  mortuum  im- 
pcndcrc,  quam  vivtim  occidcrc. 
Secundum  banc  onitionem,  jubel 
corpus  marili  sui  toUi  ex  area,  at- 
que  illi,  qux  vacabat,  cruci  adiigi. 


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LITE  or    BEKTL£T. 


Usus  est  miles  mgenio  pnidcnds* 
Eimx  feminx ;  posteroquc  die  pop- 


tilus  miratti's  est,  qtla  ratbne  mor^ 
tus  isset  in  crncem  ! 


We  gUdly  embrace  an  opportunity  of  performing  a  promte  long  tlnce  made,  and  bitert  the  fol- 
lowing Life  of  Bcntley  from  a  London  publication  of  1783.  The  profouad  and  unequaUed  leara- 
log  of  this  Great  Scholar  ii  now  universally  acknowledged,  and  at  length 

Nationi  slowly  wise  and  meanly  just 

To  buried  noerit  raise  the  tardy  bust. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BENTLEY,    D.   D. 

Late  Regius  Professor  qf  Liixniiityy   and  Master  of   Trmity    College^ 
Cambridge^  EtigUmd, 

*^  *  PLATO,  de  Legft.  IV. 

obstacle  to  his  success.  The  sta- 
tutes of  that  college  prohibit  the 
election  of  fellows j  who  are  not  old 
enough  to  be  admitted  to  priests* 
orders.  Bentley,  at  this  period} 
was  but  twenty. 

Not  long  after  this  disappoint- 
ment, he  Undertook  the  charge  of 
a  school  at  Spalding,  in  Lincoln- 
shire. His  residence  in  this  place 
was  probably  of  short  continuance, 
as  he  was  recommended,  by  his 
college,  to  Dean  StiUingfleet,  as 
tutor  to  his  son,  whb  had  been  ad- 
mitted pensioner  of  St.  John's 
College,  in  1677.  Bentley  took 
his  degree  of  Master  of  Arts  in 
July,  1683,  and  then  resided  some 
time  with  his  pupil,  at  Oxford, 
where  he  devoted  a  large  portion 
of  his  attention  to  the  examination 
of  manuscripts  in  the  Bodleian 
Library,  which  ofi'ered  to  his  view 
an  inexhaustible  mine  of  intellec- 
tual treasures. 

His  natural  inclination  for  criti- 
cal disquisition  discovered  itself  at 
a  very  early  period.  Before  he 
was  twenty -four  years  of  age  he 
had  written  an  Hexapla,  in  a  large 
quarto  volume.  The  first  column 
of  this  work  contained  all  the 
words  in  the  Hebi^ew  Bible,  aiid 
in  the  other  five  columns  he  wrote 


Richard  Bentley,  was  bom 
on  the  twenty-seventh  of  January, 
1 662,  at  Oulton,  in  the  parish  of 
Roth  well,  near  Wakefield,  in  York- 
shire. He  was  descended  from  a 
family  of  some  consideration,  who 
possessed  an  estate  .and  seat,  at 
Hepeustall,  near  Hallifax.  His 
father,  Thomas  Bentley,  was  a  re- 
putable tradesman,  at  Wakefield, 
and  married  the  daughter  of  Ma- 
jor Rictiard  Willis,  of  Oulton,  who 
had  formerly  engaged  in  the  ser- 
vice of  the  unfortunate  Charles. 

This  lady,  who  possessed  an-ex- 
ccllent  understanding,  initiated  her 
son  Richard  m  his  accidence. 
His  fatlier  died  while  he  was 
young,  but  left  him  a  faithful 
guaidim  and  firm  friend  in  his 
grn*  0  ather,  who  placed  him  at 
the  Grammar  school  in  Wakefield, 
where  lie  was  clLstinguished  for 
the  quickness  of  his  parts,  and 
regularity  of  behaviour. 

At  a  very  early  age,  for  he  was 
not  yet  fifteen,  Mr.  Bentley  was 
admitted  of  St.  John's  College, 
Cambridge,  May  24th,  1676,  un* 
der  the  tuition  of  Mr.  Johnson. 
On  the  twenty^-second  of  March, 
1682,  wliile  he  was  a  junior  bach- 
elor, he  stood  candidate  for  a  fel- 
lowship.    His  youth  was  the  onfy 


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tSf 


th6  Cbald^e,  Synat^,  and  v^lgaf 
Latin  interpretations,  as  Well  ai 
those  of  the  Septuagint,  of  Aqiula> 
SymmachuS)  and  of  Theodosian. 
He  resolved  to  derive  his  knowl* 
edge  of  Hebrew  from  the  ancient 
versions,  and  not  from  the  more 
modem  Rabbins  ;  and  in  order  to 
&cilitate  the  execution  of  this 
plan,  and  to  enable  him  to  com- 
pose such  a  work,  he  must  have 
perused  the  whole  Polyglott,  ex- 
cept the  Arabic,  Persic,  and  Ethi- 
opk  ver^ioRa. 

At  the  same  time  he  filled 
VDother  quarto  folume  with  vari- 
ous reaiUhjIs,  drawn  from  the  old 
tniishKtfottSy  which  might  have 
m^  a  setoUd  part  to  the  Critica 
men  of  €^>elhis,  if  it  had  becii 
{mblisbed. 

About  the  year  1T90,  he  became 
domestick  chaplain  to  the  Bishop 
of  VVorcestcr,  the  education  of 
whose  son  he  had  superintended. 
He  resided  fourteen  years  with 
this  right  reverend  patron,  whose 
esteem  he  enjoyed  m  a  high  de- 
gree, while  he  held  a  correspon- 
dence with  the  literati  of  every 
natiNi. 

His' character  now  tanked  high 
in  the  estimation  of  all  his  learned 
countrymen  ;  and  in  1691,  his 
first  publication  established  his 
reputation  beyond  dispute.  A 
fragment  of  a  Chronognlphy  writ- 
ten by  John  of  Andoch|  sumam- 
td  Malala,  had  been  di^vered  in 
the  Bodleian  Library,  in  maniH 
script,  and  was  preparing  for  pub- 
fication,  by  the  learned  Humphry 
Hody,  of  Wadham  College.  On 
this  occasion,  at  the  desire  of 
Lloyd,  Bishoppf  St.  Asaph,  Bent- 
ky  repenised  this  work,  and  in  a 
Latin  epistle,  addressed  to  Dr. 
Mill,  he  published  critical  pbserva; 
dons  on  several  Greek  authors, 
particularly  on  those  quoted  by 
Mglak  J  and  corrected  the  passa- 


ges which  hid  be^  cdi!r«pled  li^ 
the  ci^elefisness  of  thfet  writer^  «r 
the  i«[p«rfecti<m  of  tlie  inaiiu«> 
tscript. 

This  epistle  wsn  8ui]^cnned  t# 
Xht  Chrono^raphy^  which  wai 
publishied  in  FebrusNry,  1699^  witk 
a  Ladn  translation  and  notes,  by 
Chilmead,  and  a  dissertatida  on 
the  author,  by  Hody. 

This  first  pvoductkm  «f  Beatley 
stamped  a  lustre  on  his  reputation^ 
which  the  eaiila  of  his  enemies^ 
and  the  sneers  of  the  ignorant  couM 
hot  efface  fW)ni  the  aiibds  of  tht 
teamed  ftwi  in  Engtoil,  and  on 
the  eontinent.  He  waa  now  nam*' 
bered  among  the  inott  eminem 
Bcholars  <^  the  age,  md  his  Epis^ 
tie  Was  read  and  quoted  on  every 
occasion. 

He  was  now  introdnced  to  puV 
Hck  notice,  by  the  trustees  of  the 
Honourable  Robert  Boyle,  wh^ 
appomted  him  the  first  preacher 
of  the  Lecture^  insdtuted  by  tkat 
great  man's  will,  to  vindicate  the 
great  fundamentals  of  natural  aad 
revealed  religion,  against  the  a^ 
larroing  attacks  of  Atheism.  He 
was  only  thirty  years  of  age,  and 
had  not  taken  priests'  orders,  when 
he  delivered  the  first  lecture,  at 
St.  Martin's  Church,  March  7th> 
^69S. 

He  was  recommended  in  tlie 
strongest  terms  to  the  trustees,  by 
Biahop  Sdllingfieet  and  Bishop 
Lloyd.  The  splendid  abilides^ 
ivhich  he  displayed  in  the  exccu« 
don  of  tliis  office  justified  die 
choice,  and  the  recemmendation. 
All  his  successors  have  built  upon 
the  foundadon  which  he  laid. 

During  this  period,  he  main* 
tained  a  philosophical  correspcMi* 
dence  with  Sir  Isaac  Newton. 
The  dearest  friendship  subsisted 
between  them,  and  he  composed 
his  sermons  with  that  great  man's 
approbadon.    In  these  discourses 


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UFB     Of     BENTLBT. 


lie  pro)?sed  the  foUj  of  the  atheists 
wth  rc^>ect  to  the  preseot  life} 
«nd  the  incapacity  of  matter  and 
motion  to  think.  He  confuted 
their  aiuertiona  by  considering  the 
faculties  of  the  soul}  the  structure 
and  origin  of  the  human  body^ 
and  the  ongin  and  frame  of  the 
vorldywhiie  he  appHed  the  mathe- 
matical principles  of  his  friend 
Newton '!»  /evidence  tbfi  b^ipg  of 
a  God. 

These  lectures  .were  omginally 
{n^lished  at  the  desire  of  the  trus^ 
ieeS}    and    have    Ji>een  reprinted 
several  timeS}  at  well  as  translated 
in  many  ibrdgu  langtiages.  Their 
merit  is  oat  confined,  ^r  local : 
they  are.  as  well  known  on  the  con*- 
tin^ity.as  in  England.     If  they 
have  any  fault,  it  is  the  frequent 
wittidsms  with  which   they  are 
interspersed.      We   have    some- 
times suspected}  that  he  wished 
to  imitate  South,  whose  composi* 
tioas  are  frequently  too  jocose  for 
the  pulpit.    There  -is  an  astrono- 
mical err«r  in  one  of  the  discours- 
es, which  was  pointed  out  by  Keil. 
To  the  friendly  assistance^  or 
rather  counsel,  which  he  received 
firom  the  learned  philosopher,  he 
was  justly  entitled.     By  tlie  advice 
of  Bentley,  and  hy  his  earnest  spli^ 
citations,  Sir  Isaac  was  mduced  to 
publish  his  Princijda.     So  gceat 
was  the  diffidence  of  this  eminent 
man,  that  he  was  fearful  of  trust- 
•  ing  his  immortal  labours  to  the 
scrulinizmg  eye  of  the    ciitick. 
The  iirtportunity  of   the  fnendy 
however,  prevailed  ;  and  conquer- 
ed his    natural    diffidence.      To 
these  repeated  and  urgent  instiga- 
tions   the    world     was    indebted 
for  the  early   publication  of  that 
invaluable  performance. 

On  the  2d  of  October,  1692, 
Bentley  was  installed  a  prebendary 
of  Worcester,  by  his  patron  Bish- 
op Stiliingfleet ;  and    when    the 


death  of  JMr.  Juitel  vacated  the 
place  of  Royal  Librarian,  at  St 
James's,  he  was  appdnted  his  sue* 
cessor.  A  warrant  was  issued 
from  the  Secretary's  Qfficu  for 
that  purpose,  in  December,  1593, 
and  he  received  his  patent  in  April 
following.  His  active  mmagcr 
ment  was  fully  proved,  as  sooD'as 
he  was  instituted  into  bis  nev 
office;  for  he  recovered  abofca 
thousand  volumes,  of  various 
kinds,  and  different  values,  which 
had  been  withheld  from  the  King's 
collection  of  books,  in  defiance  of 
the  act  of  parlianvent,  ivith  orderS) 
that  a  copy  of  every  w.ork  which 
is  entered  at  the  Hall  of  the  Sta- 
tioner's com^^ai^  shall  betran$> 
piitted  to  the  Royal  Lihrar}*  as 
well  as  to  those  of  every  university 
in  England  and  Scotland. 

This  appointment  may  be 
deemed  one  of  the  greatest  mis- 
fortunes of  Bentley's  lifci  as  it 
engaged  him  in  a  dispute  vith 
Mh  Boyle,  which  created  him  a 
legion  of  enemies,  who  cominued 
for  a  long  course  of  years  to  load 
him  with  abuse. 

Mr.  Boyle  was  a  young  inap 
pf  family,  fortune,  and  abilikics. 
Of  course  hb  followers  were  rnt 
merous.  Pentley  stood  alone. 
He  singly,  however,  sustained  the 
attacks  of  his  adversaries,  and 
while  he  proved  the  justice  of  hi? 
clause,  shewed  himself  their  equd 
in  wit  and  genius,  in  learning  and 
argimient. 

The  opinions  .pf  the  literary 
world  have  long  decided  in  favour 
of  3entley.  We  shall,  however, 
give  an  account  of  this  grand  con- 
troversy, as  it  may  justly  be  consid- 
ered as  an  event  of  the  first  magni- 
tude in  the  life  which  we  are  now 
writing,  and  may  prove 

••  Wlut  dire  effects  from  trivial  causes  ipriflC"* 

At  the  desire  of  Dr.  Aldrich, 
Dean  of  Christ-Churph^  Mr.  JJojte 


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im     Ot     BSlTTLEtir 


ut 


trtldeftdok  the  publicotion  of  a 
new  edition  of  Phalaris  ;  and  as 
he  wished  to  consult  a  manuscript 
of  the  epistles,  which  was  in  the 
king's  library,  he  commissioned 
Mr.  Bennet,  a  bookseller,  to  apply 
in  his  name  to  Bentley,  who  had 
very  lately  entered  upon  his  office. 
The  book  was  delivered  to  the 
messenger ;  but  as  the  librarian 
was  going  into  Worcestershire,  a 
few  days  after,  he  insisted  upon 
having  the  manuscript  returned. 

Bennet  affirmed,  that  he  receiv- 
ed the  book,  after  a  solicitation  qf 
several  months,  and  that  it  was  ta- 
ken from  him  by  the  librarian 
(who  disparaged  the  work  and  the: 
editor,  in  bis  <lbnversation),  al- 
though he  had  informed  him,  that 
the  examination  was  not  complet- 
ed. These  assertions  were  partly 
refuted,  and  partly^  contradicted* 

The  Epistles  were  published  in 
1 694.  The  preface,  by  Mr.  Boyle, 
gave  an  account  of  the  edition,  and 
when  he  mentioned  rto  manu- 
script, said,  that  the  collation 
could  not  be  carried  farther  than 
the  fortieth  Letter,  because  the 
book  was  taken  away,  by  the  «in- 
^iilar  kindness  of  the  librarian. 

A  few  days  before  the  publick 
sale  of  Phalaris,  Bentley,  by  acci- 
dent, saw  a  copy  in  the  hands  of  a 
person,  to  whom  it  had  been  pre- 
sented. As  soon  as  he  had.  read 
the  prefeice,  he  wrote  an  account 
of  the  affair  to  Mr.  Boyle,  in  hopes 
that  he  would  order  the  leaf  which 
contained  the  charge  to  be  reprint- 
ed. An  answer  was  returned, 
couched  in  very  civil  terms,  but 
saying,  that  the  story  had  been 
written  according  to  Mr.  Bennet's 
representation  ;  that  he  was  hurt 
at  the  refusal  of  the  manuscript, 
but  that  if  he  had  been  deceived, 
he  should  certainly  acknowledge 
his  error. 

The  book  was  disseminated,  and 


^e  exceptionable  passage  remain^ 
ed  unaltered. 

In  this  situation  the  affair  rest^ 
ed  for  near  diree  years,  during* 
which  tlmcf  in  1696,  Bentley  wa» 
admitted  to  his  degree  of  Doctor 
in  Divinity  ;  and  preached  on  the 
dayof  the  publick  commencement. 
His  erudition  was  now  so  celebrat-* 
ed,  that  his  advice  was  asked  with 
regard  to  a  new  edition  of  some 
RomanClassicks,  which  were  to  be 
published  at  the  University  pvess» 
for  the  use  of  the  Duke  of  Glou-^ 
cester.  He  procured  the  type» 
Iroim  Holland,  with  which  these 
books  were  printed  ;  and  advised 
Laugbton,  to  whom  the  Virgil 
was  entrusted,  to  fblk)w  Heinsius. 
His  ideas,  however,  did  not  coin- 
cide with  those  of  the  Doctoiv 
Terence  was  publbbed  by  Leng  ; 
Horace  by  Talbot ;  and  CatuUusy 
Tibullus,  and  Propertius,  by  Mr. 
Annesley,  who  was  afterwardv 
Earl  of  Anglesey. 

While  the  Canobridge  press  was 
engaged  in  printing  these  splen* 
did  editions,  in  1697,  Dr.  Bentley 
published  his  Dissertation  on  the^ 
Epistles  of  Themistocles,  Socrates^ 
Euripides,  Phalaris,  and  the  Fables 
of  Esop.  This  work  was  added  to 
a  new  edition  of  Wotton's  Reflec- 
tions on  ancie^it  and  modem  Learn- 

The  injury  which  he  had  receiv- 
ed in  the  preface  to  Phalaris  was 
not  forgotten.  In  this  dissertation, 
he  defended  himself  against  tlie 
charges  of  Bennet,  and  asserted 
that  the  Epistles  which  had  been 
attributed,  for  so  many  centuries, 
to  the  Tyrant  of  Agrigentum, 
were  spurious,  and  the  production 
of  some  sophist.  Mr.  Boyle  was 
attacked  for  employing  his  time  \xk 
in  the  publication  of  so  contempti- 
ble an  author,  and  accused  of  de- 
grading a  miserable  performance, 
by  abadediiion. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


U2 


ttP£   or   BwrtxT. 


•  Ilk  the  epfune  of  this  year>  the 
learned  Grcvius  published  hia  edi- 
tion of  Callimachiis,  which  was 
QEiriched  with  the  notes  and  ani- 
viadversiona  of  Dr.  Bentlcy,  aft 
well  as  ivith  his  IcoUectbn  of  the 
fragments  of  that  poet. 
.  This  new  edition  of  Wotton's 
Reflections  appeared  just  as  Mr. 
Boyle  was  setthig  out  for  Ireland  ; 
and  the  urgency  of  his  huuness 
prevented  iSs  wruing  an  immedi- 
ate answer.  In  the  following  year»^ 
however,  hepttblished  an  examina^ 
lion  of  this  dUsertation^izi  which  he 
attempled  t»  vindicate  the  Episfefes 
of  Phalarls,  and  the  Fables  of  Esop, 
from  the  charges  of  Bcntley,  and 
to  prove  their  authenticity. 

This  once  famous^  book,  which 
was  perused  with  such  raptures  b^ 
the  learned  and  the  unlearned,  is 
BOW  disregarded. 

it  is  still  to  be  found  in  the  IL- 
lM<aries  of  the  curiows  ;  but,  al- 
though  the  book  contains  some, 
learning,  and  much  wit,  it  is  rare- 
ly mentioned  ;  and  the  highest 
prmse  that  can  be  justly  bestowed 
on  Mr.  Boyle's  labours,  is,  that 
they  occasioned  a  republioation, 
with  large  additions,of  the  immor<r 
%sl  dissertation  on  tlM  Epbtles  of 
Phalaris. 

This  work,  in  its  improved  state, 
appeared  in  1699.  His  adversary 
now  began  to  feel  the  strength  of 
^ose  powers  which  he  had  slight-* 
ed  ;  and  in  order  to  animate  a  dy-i 
ing  cause,  many  engines  were  em* 
ployed  to  overturn  Dr.  Bentley's 
reputation.  Several  pamphlets 
were  published  :  sarcastick  r^ec-» 
tions  were  substituted  in  the  {4ace 
•f  sound  argument.  He  was  accu* 
sed  of  plagiary.  It  w^s  asserted 
that  his  observatioos  on  Callima- 
ehus  were  borrowed  almost  wholly 
from  Stamley. 

.   Some    people  of  consequ^ce 
appeared  in  the  lists^  against  ^  hixQ* 


Smalridgt  wrote  abuHesqfue  paro^ 
dy  on  the  dissertation,  in  order  to 
prove  that  Bentley  was  not  the  au-  • 
thor  of  it,  by  the  same  arguments 
Vhich  the  Doctor  had  employed  to 
evince  that  the  Epistles  of  Phaia- 
lis  were  spurious. 

.  King,  tlie  author  of  the  JoumcjT 
to  London^  ridiculed  him  and  his 
performance,  in  some  "  Dialogues 
of  the  Dead  j'*  which,  in  his  pre- 
fihce,  he  says  were  the  production 
of  a  gentleman  at  Padua,  and  writ- 
ten by  him,  on  account  of  the  cha* 
racter  which  he  had  received  of  a 
troublesome  cridck,  whose  na^ne 
was  Mentivo^io.  In  these  dia- 
logues there  is  a  small  portion  of 
wit,  but  little  genius  ;  and  it  can 
hardly  be  supposed,  that  the  cause 
could  be  much  aided  by  so  trifiing 
a  performance. 

Dr.  Johnson,  in  his  life  of  King, 
has  mentioned  his  engaging  in 
this  dispute,  in  the  following  man- 
ner :  ^'  In  1697,  he  mingled  in  ths 
controversy  between  Boyle  and 
Bentley  ;  and  was  one  of  those  who 
tried  what  wit  could  perform  in 
opposition  to  learaing."  King's 
Dialogues  of  the  Dead,  however, 
were  not  published  before  1699. 

Garth  mentioned  both  the  oppo- 
nents in  his  Dispensary . 

**  So  diamoiUlB  take  a  luftre  from  their  fbU, 
And  CO  a  Beatley  tte  we  owe  a  Boyle  !** 

Some  of  the  wicked  wits,  even 
in  his  own  university,  drew  the 
Doctor's  picture^  with  the  guards 
of  Phalaris  prepaiing  to  thrust  him 
into  the  bull.  In  Bcntley's  mouth 
they  put  a  label,  on  which  viras 
written,"  I  would  rather  be  Roast- 
bo,  than  BovLED." 

In  the  Tale  of  a  Tub,  Swift  ridi- 
culed  our  great  critick  and  in  the 
Battle  of  ^e  Books,  he  has  des- 
cribed Bentley  and  Wotton  defend- 
ing each  other,  side  by  ^de,  until 
they  were  both  transfixed  by  Mr.  ^ 
Boyie^  triumphant  pivelin. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


TtB  HfclftAktti^. 


Ui 


Bcnriey,  Indeed,  stood  almost 
single  in  the  controrersy.  While 
Boyle,  who  was  a  young  man  of 
great  expectations  and  brilliant 
parts,  was  assisted  by  the  wits,  and 
by  the  Literati,  whHe  the  Learned 
and  the  Ingenious  enlisted  under 
his  lianner,  Bentley,  by  choice^  re- 
mained independent.  Several  of 
his  friends  at  Cambridge  offered 
their  assistance.  The  Doctor, 
however,  resolutely  rejected  their 
overtures.  He  was  well  acquaint- 
ed with  the  justice  of  his  cause, 
and  knew  that  he  might  rely  on 
the  vigour  of  his  own  abilities. 
Several  passages  in  Mr.  Boyle's 
book,  even  his  own  friends   had 


deemed  unanswerable.  They 
Vrcre  shown  to  Bentley.  He  im- 
mediately confuted  them,  and 
"unveileid  the  latent  errors.** 
As  soon,  indeed,  as  he  had  perused 
the  answer,  he  openly  declared, 
that  the  whole  was  equally  liable 
to  objections. 

The  voice  of  the  people,  for 
some  years,  supported  Xht  asser- 
tion) s  of  Boyle,  and  his  adherents. 
But  the  obstinacy  of  prejudice  at 
length  gave  way,  and  the  Learned 
became  unanimous  in  their  opin- 
ion. It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  re- 
mark, that  the  decision  was  against 
the  Epistles  of  Phalaris. 
To  be  continued. 


REMARKER. 


JVb.  9. 


IBad  yu^i  tfioevrav  mii  fuUre  ml  arrtgawiiam  mhumdam,  itlum  didim,  verimt  Mi  has 
Mojtra  Mcrimvi,         Ciccap. 

by  Vanity,  and  he  was  sent  into  the 
world,  as  soon  as  he  arrived  at  the 
A|;e  of  manhood,  to  create  a  new 
order  of  beings.  He  has  not  been 
idle  in  executing  his  commission, 
for  few  of  the  present  race  but  can 
trace  aome  affinity  to  this  ancestor. 
Several  of  my  acquaintance  quar- 
ter his  arms,  and  their  features  too 
istrongly  resemble  their  great  pro- 
genitor to  need  the  herald's  office 
to  prove  them  genuine  heirs. 

The$e  gentlemen  are  ever  eager 
to  impress  strangers  with  an  idea 
of  their  own  importance,  and  X 
seldom  recollect  meeting  them  in 
a  tavern  or  a  stage  coach,  where 
all  enter  as  equals,  that  they  did 
not  attempt  superiority,  by  inform- 
ing us  of  their  great  connexions, 
their  own  consequence,  and  their 
large  concerns  ;  and,  by  retailing 
the  hacknied  observatioDS  of  others 
endeavour  to  make  us  suppose 
them  aa  familiar  iivith  the  most 
Qot^  parts  of  cither  continent,  aa 


THE  Remarker  does  not  neaa 
to  confine  himself  to  literary  top* 
icluH  but  will  occasionally  lash 
those  Mbles,  which  though  they 
are  neither  punished  as  crimes  by 
the  severe  hand  of  Justice,  or  ai 
i^cet  are  censured  from  the  puir 
pit,  yet  tend  to  undermine  the 
props  of  social  intercourse.  He 
has  chosen  egoti&m  for  the  subject 
of  the  present  paper. 

Egotism  claims  his  descent 
from  Vanity  and  Pride.  To  an 
inordinate  desire  of  applause  and  a 
too  great  esteem  for  himself  wliich 
iie  inherits  from  his  parents,  he 
adds  the  desire  of  being  the  sole 
object  of  thought  and  considera- 
tion wherever  he  is.  With  the 
aensibility  of  Vanity,  but  without 
the  firmness  of  Pride,  he  ah  rinks 
from  every  wholesome  truth  ;  and 
prefers  the  flattering  applause  of 
the  worthless,  to  the  silent  esteem 
of  the  good.  Great  pttns  were 
4aken  in  hia  edupatioo,  particularly 

Vol.  III.  No.  5.     2G 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


244 


THE  SEMARREBr^ 


with  •  the  vicinity  of  their  own 
town .  Raised  upon  this  scaffolding 
they  may  sometinaes  succeed  iiv 
exciting  a  momentary  gaze,  but 
it  is  seldomr  sufficient  to  support 
the  wefght  of  the  giant,  who  press- 
es upon  it  ;  and  wh^n  it  sinks 
under  him,  he  falls  beneath  tln^ 
contempt  of  those,  who  wonld 
have  respected  hmx  as  an  e^uaL 
Occasional  applaikse,  far  from  sa- 
tiating an^  egotist,  only  makes  lum 
more  eap^er  to  show  his  imagined 
superioiity.  He  resembles  him- 
self ta  the  sun,  before  whose  ef- 
fulgence the  smaller  Luniinaries 
hide  tlieir  diminished  heads,  aixl 
those,  who  are  not  dazzled  by  his 
splendour,  he  regai'ds  as  prying 
philosophers,  unable  to  gaze  on 
his  brightness  by  their  own  powers, 
but  eager  to  find  by  artifictai 
means  every  dark  spot,  and  mali- 
ciously proclaim  it  to  the  world; 
with  a  suggestion,  that  ere  long  his 
fire  8haUbet:Misinned,and  universal 
darkness  cover  his  whole  cfise. 
With  these  ideas  he  expects  an 
implicit  assent  to  eve?y  thing  he 
titters  ;  dind  flatters  himseli^  dials 
in  sounding  forth  his  own  merits, 
he  is  pouring  instructioB  into 
minds  eager  to  receive  lit.  For 
Egotism,  though  at  ftTst  but  a 
Bmall  seed,  yet,  cultivated  by  doat- 
ing  parents  and  submissive  de- 
pendents, soon  becomes  so  largo*  a 
tree,  that  every  fleeting  folly  may 
irest  thereon.  I  have  known  a  lady 
deprived  of  pleasure  for  a  whole 
evening,  when  her  new  headdress 
had  passed  nnwKked  ;  a  wic  re- 
^tlre  chagrined,  when  he  wa»  the 
only  person  who  laughed  at  a  pun, 
he  had  been  the  whole  day  stwly  mg ; 
and  Rosa^  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 
TOWS  we  have  notasle,  because  she 
has  heard  a  whisper,  while  ske  was 
exhibiting  her  powers  of  execution 
in  musick.  ■  People  go  mofe  into 
^^society  to  display  themselves- and 


their  talents,  than  to  gain  instraC'^ 
tion  ;  but  as  no  society  will  suffer 
an  equal  to  engross  all  its  honours 
and  pleasures,  an  egotist  is  obliged 
to  resort  to  persons  of  inferiour 
talents  ;  and  he  delights  to  astonish 
his  Lilliputian  companions  by  a 
display  of  his  o^vb  wonderful  pow* 
ers.  But  a  man  will  always  ap- 
proach towards-  the  level  of  his 
associates ;  and  low  company  gen* 
erally  bespeaks- a  degraded  imnd. 
The  pleasure  we  receive  from  the 
perusal  of  the  works  q£  Richard- 
son cannot  prevent  our  turning  a- 
way  with  disgust,  when  we  sec 
him  avoid  the  society  of  men  of 
learnings  and  delight  in  being  sur- 
rounded like  an  Asiatick  prhice  by 
^  Qrowd  of  dependent  women,  who 
would  continually  offer  incense  to> 
hb  vanity.  If  egotists  would  con- 
fine themselves  to  their  inferiours, 
their  folly  would  be  harmless  r  bat 
they  frequently  endeavour  to  as- 
sume the  same  manners  aitnon^ 
their  equals  and  snperiours. 

From  the  long  intimacy  that  has 
subsisted  between  my  family  and 
Mr.  Puff's,  I  frequently  meet  him 
in  society ;  and  although  there 
are  many  good  points  in  his  char- 
aater,  yet  by  always  endeavouring 
to  make  himself  the  only  object  c^ 
importance,  he  is  universally  shun- 
ned>  as  the  destroyer  of  social 
pleasure.  Diming  in  company 
with  him  lately,  the  conversation 
turned  upon  the  relative  political 
situation  of  our  country  to  Europe. 
Puff"  appeared  uneasy  for  a  mo» 
ment's  pause  to  pat  in  a  word  ; 
but  at  lengthy  being  UBable  longer 
to  bear  restraint,  he  interrupted 
one  of  our  first  political  chanicter» 
by  directly  contradicting  him. 
Having  silenced  opposition,  he  un* 
dertook  to  lay  open  to  our  view 
the  inmost  recesses  of  the  labyrinth 
of  polidlcks,  although  hb  hearers 
did  not    perceive  the  connexioa^ 


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.  THE   REMAllKEll. 


245 


bet<<reen  the  compliments  that  Mr. 
Puff  had  received  at  St.  Cloud  or 
Madrid,  and  the  political  state  of 
Prance  and  Spain.     As  when  the 
leader  of  a  nocturnal  riot,  exulting 
at  having  beaten  down  the   watch, 
perceives   himself  deserted  ;  and 
that  those  he  4eemed  his  frietfds, 
ashamed  -of  hts  outrage,  had  rang- 
ed themselves  on  the  side  'of  his 
^versary,  stands  motionless  with 
rage  and  terror  ;  so  stood  our  he- 
lo,  when  he  saw  every  ear  atten- 
tive to  His  vanquished  rival,  «ind 
210  one  listening  to  his  harangue. 
Soon  after  the  conversatiion  turn- 
ed  upon   agriculture,    when  my 
IHend  Pwff  deterniined  to  be  re- 
venged, and  iihmediatcly  inform- 
ed us,  that  there  were  n«  cattle 
"Worth  rsHsing  in  the  country,  but 
ffom  his  breed  ;  and  said  so  much 
of  his  improvements  in   agricul- 
ture, that  a   stranger  would  have 
supposed  every   thing  valuable  in 
that  art  had  been  intixxluced  here 
by  him.     This  speech  was  only  re- 
-ceived  with  a  contemptuous  smile, 
which  so  disconcened  Puff,  that 
takiug  out  his  watch,  he  remem- 
bered an  engagement  at4:hat  hour, 
.  and  iiistani3v  retired. 
.  3lU  J^ufl^  felicity  18  at  moments 
ttWQundedl       When  surrounrled 
hy.  a  cco5«d  of  inleriuurs,  who  fieck 
to  his  table  for  his  dinners  or  the 
^.credit  of  visiting  hkn,  no  peacock 
spreading  bis  gaudj  tail,  and  strut- 
,^  ting  among  "barn -door  £6 wj,  swells 
^ii^th  vomFti  4cUgbt  i  And  the  smile 
'  «f  ecstacy  4^emains  on  lits  cheek, 
I  vhile  ^e  i^eifftes  his  own  adven- 
^,f^l^fg^^dihchomz^cth^  has 
^^Jbieeb  jpaid'  to  his  superiour  merit. 
..moment,    benevolence 
"^  **  uihat  ihe  smooth  cilr- 
ruffled  by  a  sinde 


^  since,  I  met  with  an- 

j^lnstancc  of  egotism 

Imers,  who  has  lost 

^  the  good  will  of  his^  best  friends  by 


I  young 


a  constant  innttention  to  any,  but 
his  own  feelings.  According  to 
the  custom  of  our  town,  he  called 
to  pay  a  visit  of  condolence  to  a  la- 
dy who  had  just  lost  her  husbimd  ; 
but  unhappily  with  a  face  so  full  of 
roirth  and  jojlitf  ,  that  tlie  lady  has 
never  recovered  the  shock  it  gave 
her  ;  and  «oon  after  he  appeared 
at  a  wedding  with  woe  and  misery 
depicted  In  his  countenance  ;  but 
In  neither  instance  from  a  design 
to  insult  the  feelings  of  his  friends. 
He  arfterwarrds  paid  his  addresses 
to  a  yoruAg  lAdy  of  fortune  ;  but, 
when  the  preliimnjuiies  were  nearly 
arranged,  an  unfottunate  incident 
brok«  offthc  TOalch.  Having  heen 
made  lieutenant  of  an  independ- 
ent company,  the  firstday  ibe  wore 
his  regimentals,  he  called  ito  see 
his  Du^dnea  ;  who  w^as  4it  tihat  m- 
stant  bewailing  a  beaudful  .and 
cherished  leck,<she  liad  fostanthe 
morning,  from  the  awkwardness 
of  her  perruquier.  His  feefings 
were  tuned  too  high  to  accord  with 
her  spirits  ;  and  as  he  could  not 
lower  them,  discord  was  the  con- 
sequence. He  treated  her  mis- 
fortune mth  contempt,  and  observ- 
ed tlwU;  a  few  shillings  would  more 
than  replace  the  loss,  The  lady 
had  already  borne  too  much,  she 
therefore  informed  him,  that  she 
had  always  tlvnight  he  could 
love  no  one  but  himsclC,  tliat  she 
was  no^v  convinced  of  tt,  and  beg- 
ged iiever  to  sec  him  more  ;  and 
though  this  affair  was  made  up 
by  the  intercessKyiKif  tiiends,  sinv 
ilar  ones  soon  occurred,  which 
made  the  breach  irreparable. 

Egotism  has  been  supposed  in- 
(figcnous  to  our  soil ;  if  so,  it  is 
the  lofty  hemlock  of  our  forests^ 
whose  slender  mots  cannot  sup- 
port its  towering  head  against  Uie 
rude  blasts  of  winter,  but  over- 
thrown it  lies  forgotten,  and  gives 
place  ta  more  useful  trees. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


34r 


yOETltT. 


X^  v!<^..  «J«riK: -otorn«.  ».     X^-*^*^^'^'^."'*' 
Ad^^t   *•*>   mfldidim  ^um  ▼tdent        come,  came,  tnd  to  the  woodlands  weTlwf, 


aon™  And  gather  all  the  sweetest  flowers  of  May : 

AmpytryooUdei ;  per  et  alta  tacumioa  ^^r  dash  the  glistening  dcw^rop  from  thekif  j 

nioates  *  Let  it  remain,  chaste  emblem  of  oar  pkf. 

Hzmonii,  et  ialtui,  arrt  «t    qtUBCunq-  And  when  we^cullldewh  choicest  flo«ti,nl 

BoMet  '*'^* 


IHc  quidem  immtuo  jim  corde  ddlore 

tubactut, 
SupfAiee  ▼©€€  l<»f«m  tmploraje,  qu»  mor- 

tit  adempu  eat 
Obodkio  «t  nsddat,  ^Hs  nequt  damnet 

amane. 

nitce  favens  prccibtu  ttninm  modera 
torOlympi 
Amoit.et  liqnido  Chtroa  mtcat  aethera 
Sydiu. 

Oxvu  1804. 


/for  //*<r  Anthology. 
LINES 

OCCASIONED     IT     TH«     D«ATII      OF     A 
TOt^Nd  tADY. 

TEikrftcytd  nuUt,  wiMse  vtfrMl  ehMms4ii|riaf 
The  opening  tweete  of  yooth1«ncloadiAday  x 
The  br^hi  luffuAtm  of  whose  cheeks  declare. 
T9o  canker  saps  the  bloomhig  roses  there : 
Whose  loftenM  hearts  ao  mder  passions  move. 
Than  the  sweet  tumults  of  Incipient  love  : 
Come,  so  with  me,  and  decJc  the  earthy  bed, 
l^ere  lovely  Mary  slumbers  wltfi  the  dead ! 

Tor  she,  like  you,  was  innocent  and  fstf. 
And  i6ve%  bright  visions  bless*d  her  oaclf  day : 
And  she,  like  you,  possess'd  each  vltgia  grace, 
WJOch  love  can  laocy,  or  the  Noiei  trace. 

And  conKfye  youths^  who  fai  the  festive  throog. 
Late  trtpp*d'wlth  her  the  sprightly  dance  along  : 
You  who  have  Hstcn*d  to  h«r  accentu  mild, 
Ahd  gloWed  w%h  tott  devotion,  when  she  smBM : 
You  who  have  felt  the  maglck  ofhtr  eye, 
AM  bNit^*il«  ttnetnftlbia,  mo  deOdrntt  Jfgh  t 
O  !  come  vrith  us,  and  weave  a  garlaad  meet 
To  dock  onr  liH^y^  halloited,  test  rotreau 

.panghters  oC^.grl^  who  in  life's  TQiCaU. 
'  dawn, 
MarkM  sorrow's  chllHiw  douds  o*escast  the  t^ofn : 
rfooi  Whtse  wan  chcti'tWt  early  rose  U  fled,  * 
Aad  vithcitog  U)ki  h«t)^  the  drooping  hoad  : 


^ELECTED. 

CANTATA. 
JTy  MatAtfB  Frkr, 

RECIT. 
BEKEATH  a  verdant  laurel**  ampk  fiiadi^ 

His  lyre  to  mouniftai  mmsbers  ftrmig, 
Horace,  immortal  Bard,  fupioely  laid. 
To  Venus  thus  addrefii'd  the  fong : 
Ten  thoufand  little  Lovea  axounda 
Listening,  dwelt  on  ever)'  found. 

ARIET. 
Potent  Venoa,  hia  thy  foflh 

Sound  ao  most  his  dire  alanns. 
Youth  on  ftleat  wings  is  flovrir : 

Graver  years  come  rolling  on. 
Ipare  my  age,^nAt  fof  arms  > 

Safe  and  humble  let  me  rett. 

From  all  amorous  care  rekasM. 
Potenc  Yeiuis,  bid  thy  /on 

6ouad  no  more  his  dire  alaitcs. 

Tet,  Veoos,  vrhy  do  I  each  aonificp«e 
1\t  ft^yMt  wfMth.for.^toa'ti  hali  I 
Wliy4o  1  all  day  lamcii^  and  figlh 
Unleft  the  beauteous  maid  be  nigh  f 
And  why  iJl  n^t  pwcfue  |ier  \tu«$.(if9«^ 
Through  flower  mta<k'ihd  ciVfi*!  tMo* ' 

RICfT. 

Thus  fung  the  Bard ;  and  thustheGodde*^ 
Submltfvc  bowco  LoM^lmptilaas  yokr: 

liivery  fttfewMd  evair«ao»i 
Shall  own  my  rule,  and  fear  my  raget 
CprnpeiPd  by  ^if,  thy  kflii^flMB  pnvc« 
That  aU  the  f^orltf  was  bom  to  lovf* ,     < 

'•       '   '  '-  ''iwtnrr.  ■    '-^ 

Bid  thy  deftbiM  lyre  diA:over 
*  Soft  dfclire  told  gentle  pjhp  t*^  ' 

Ohtn  plW*;  in*  a»«^r»  l«v«*e*  •  ^ 

Through  her  ear  Mer  IwiMt  Ota**'       . 
Verlh  fhaUpltafc,  and  Sfhs  •lalUWi**' 

Cupid  docs  with  Pli 


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tOKT»r. 


f49 


THE   CAVE. 
By  J,  Mac/iheraojiy  Eiq, 

THt  wind  ii  up,  the  Ad4  it  bare  ; 

Some  hermit  lead  me  to  his  cell. 
Where  Coocenplatlan,  lonely  /air, 

With  Messed  Content  bat  cboie  to  dwell. 


It  opens  to  ray  ^gbt, 
IWk  In  the  rock  ;  betide  the  flood  ; 
Dry  fern  around  obstruct*  the  light ; 
The  winds  above  It  move  the  woo<l. 

fteflccted  in  the  lake  I  tee 

The  downward  mountaim  and  the  tkles. 
The  flying  bird,  the  waving  tree, 

Tlie  goats  that  en  the  hiin  arise. 

TTie  grey-cloaked  herd  drives  on  the  cow, 
Tlie  tlow-paced  fowler  walks  the  heath  } 

A  ftecltied  pointer  scoun  the  brow  ; 
A  muting  shepherd  ttandt  beneath. 

Carre  o*er  the  ruin  of  an  oalc. 
The  woodman  liftr  hit  axe  on  hlgk» 

The  hint  re-echo  to  the  stroke ; 
I  tee,  I  tee  the  ihlvert  fly. 

lome  rural  mail,  with  apron  ftilly 
Bringt  fuel  to  the  liomdy  flame  s 

I  see  the  smoky  columns  roll. 
And  through  the  chinky  hut  the  bcacn. 

Beiide  a  stone  o*ergrown  with  moes. 
Two  well-met  hunters  talk  at  ease  ; 

Three  panting  dogs  beiide  repoee  } 
One  bleeding  deer  ii  stretched  on  graM» 

A  lake,  aC  dbtance,  spreads  to  sight. 
Skirted  with  shady  forests  rouod, 

2d  midft  an  itiand't  rocky  height 
SusCaiat  a  ruin  once  renowned. 

One  tree  bendt  o'er  the  ludted  wallt, 
Ttro  broad-wloged  eagfet  hover  nigtr. 

By  iotervalt  a  fragment  falls. 
As  blotn  tlie  blast  along  the  sky. 

Two  rough-spun  hinds  the  pinnace  guMft 
With  tab*ring  oars,  along  the  flood  ; 

An  juTs^icr,  bending  o*cr  tlie  tide, 
Uaags  firom  the  boat  th*  infidions  wood. 

Beside  the  flood,  beneath  the  rocks. 
On  grassy  bank  two  lovers  lean  ; 

Bend  on  each  other  amorous  looks. 
And  lecm  to  laugh  and  kiss  between. 

The  wind  Is  rastUng  In  the  oak  } 
Tbey  seem  to  hear  the  tread  of  feet ; 

lliey  start,  they  rise,  took  round  the  rock  i 
Again  they  smile,  agairt  tliry  meet. 


Bat  seel  the  grey  mist  ttmo  the  lake 
Ascends  upon  the  shady  hills ; 

Dark  stomu  the  murmuring  forests  shakey 
Rain  beats*— resound  a  hundred  rIVs. 

Te  Damon's  homely  hut  I  fly  ^ 
f  see  it  smoking  o'er  the  plain  ; 

When  storms  are  past,— and  fair  the  iky, 
ni  often  seek  my  cave  again. 


A   WHERAL   UTMN. 

By  Mallet. 

YE  fl»ldolght  (hades,  ^er  luKiire  spread  t 

Dumb  silence  of  the  dreary  hour  I 
la  honour  of  th'  approaching  dead, 
Arpund  your  awlul  terrors  pour. 

Yes,  poor  around. 

On  this  pale  ground, 
Through  all  this  deep  shrroundkig  gIooiD» 

The  sober  thought. 

The  tear  untanght. 
Those  mcctest  mourners  at  «  tomb. 

Lo  1  as  the  flirpUc'd  train  drew  near 
To  this  hst  mansion  of  mankind. 
The  stow  sad  bell,  the  sable  bttr^ 
In  holy  mnsfaig  wrap  the  mind  1 

And  while  tliclr  beam. 

With  trembling  ftream. 
Attending  tapers  faintly  dait ; 

Each  mould*rlng  bone. 

Each  sculptur'd  stone. 
Strikes  mote  instmcttoa  to  the  heait  f 

Now  let  the  sacred  organ  blow. 
With  solenm  pause,  and  soondiBg  atow  | 
Now  let  the  voice  dne  measore  keep. 
In  strains  that  sigh,  and  words  that  weep  | 
TU  all  the  vocal  current  blended  roll. 
Not  to  depress,  but  Ult  the  soaring  soul  s 

To  lift  it  in  the  Maker's  praise. 

Who  first  inform'd  our  frame  with  bfcacB^ 
And,  after  some  few  stormy  daysi 
No*r,  gracioas,  gives  us  o*er  to  death. 
No  King  of  Fears 
In  him  appears. 
Who  flMits  the  fcene  of  human  woes : 
Beneath  bi»  iMde 
Secnrely  laid. 
The  dead  alone  InU  true  repose. 

Then,  while  we  mingle  dust  with  dust. 

To  One,  supremely  good  and  wise, 
Rabe  haUel^iAhs  !  Cod  Is  just. 
And  man  most  happy  when  he  dies  f 

Nb  winter  past. 

Fair  spring  at  last 
.Receives  him  on  her  flowery  shore  ; 

Where  pleasure's  rose 

Immortal  blows. 
And  sia  and  sorrow  are   no  jnere  ! 


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MKTtt. 


StfLOGT    0!C  LALXHING. 


LIKE  merry  Momw,  wliilc  the  Godi  wert  qjjufi- 

I  come— <o  give  an  eulogy  on  Uughinjr  I 
True,  cvurtfy  CheftcrficM^  with  crttlck  seal, 
AfTerts  that  Uughlnfr's  vaftly  ungenteei  ! 
The  boilt'rous  Ihake,  he  layi,  diltorta  fine  facet, 
And  rob>  each  pretty  feature  of  the  grKct  1 

gut  yet  thii  paragtth  of  pcrfcA  taftc,  ' 
ti  other  topick*  wa«  not  over<hafte  ; 
He  like  the  Pharifirea  in  this  appears 
They  ruin'd  widows,  but  they  made  Umg^yray*!!. 
Tithe,  anil'e,  mint,  they  sealouily  affeded. 
But  the  law's  weifduler  matters  lay  negleaed  x 
And  while  an  Inrca  ttrains  their  fqueamifli  caul, 
Down  goes  a  monttroos  caiTiel><4)unch  and  all. 

Yet  others  n**^  *■  f«S««  ^*ith  warmth  difpoU 
Man's  rifiblcs  dminguifli  oim  fhMB  brute ; 
While  inttind,  reafon,  both  In  commoa  own. 
To  laugh  is  manli  prerogative  alone  ! 

Hail,  rofy  laughter  !  tfiou  deferv^ft  the  baya  1 
Come,  wirn  thy  dimples,  animate  theft  lays, 
WhUtl  univerfal  peals  atteft  thy  praUe. 
Daughter  of  Joy  !  thro'  thee  «se  health  attain, 
W  hen  Efcula^iaa  recipes  arc  vaio. 

Let  fentimentalUts  ring  in  our  ears 
The  tender  joy  of  {eriei--the  luxury  of  tears*- 
HcracUtus  may  whine,  and  oh  1  and  ah  !-* 
I  like  an  hoaeR,  hearty,  ha,  hah,  hah  1 
It  makes  the  wheels  tf  nature  gUblier  play ; 
Dull  care  (tipyrclTes ;  fiiiooth«  life's  thorny  way  | 
Propds  the  dandag  current  thro*  each  vdn  j 
Braces  the  nerves  ;  coiroborates  tlie  (Main  \ 
Shakes  ev*ry  mufde,  and  throws  off  the  f^Mcn. 

Old  Homer  makfs  yon  teoaiKs  of  the  ikies,     • 
His  Gods,  love  laughing  as  they  did  their  eyes  ! 
It  kept  them  hi  good  humour,  huOiM  their  fquab- 

As  frowaril  dUldrM  arc  a|»eat\l  by  banblei : 
Ev*n  Jove,  the  thund'rer,  dearly  lov'd  a  laugh. 
When,  of  fine  nedar,  he  had  taken  a  quaff  { 
It  helni  dlgcftion  when  the  feaH  runsTi^h, 
And  dWiiaici  the  foqiii  of  potent  Buifwidf • 

But,  hi  the  mala,  tho*  laoghlng  I  afiprove. 
It  is  not  cv'ry  kind  of  laugh  I  love  t 
Foi'many  lau^  e'en  candour  mutifondexna  I 
Some  are  too  lull  of  add,  fome  of  o^legm ; 
The  load  h«rfc-Uufrh  (Improperly  Si  ftiPd,) 
The  ideot  fimpcr,  like  the  flumbVing  chUd, 
Th*  affcded  laugh,  to  Bicw  a  dhnpled  chi«. 
The  ftieer  contemptuous,  and  broad  vacant  grin. 
At*  defVIcabte  all,  as  Strephonh  ftnlle. 
To  ihew  his  Hrory  legions,  nuik  and  Mc. 

The  hMMft  Uugh,  unttodied,  attacooirM, 
By  nature  prompted,  and  true  wit  faiipir'd. 
Such  as  Q^  felt,  and  Falltaff  knew  before,     • 
When  humour  ret  the  table  6n  a  roar  ; 
Alone  def^rves  tk*  applauding  mufe's  grace  I 
The  reft— |i  all  contortion  and  grimace. 
But  you  exclaim,  **  Your  Eulogy's  too  dry  s 
•*  Leave  dUlertatkio  and  exemplify  I 
••  Prove,  by  experiment,  your  maxhns  true  : 
**  And,  what  you  praife  fo  highly,  make  us  do.** 

In  tPOth  !  hop'd  this  was  already  done. 
And  Mirth  and  Monras  had  the  laurd  won  I 
Like  hondi  Modge,  unhappy  Ihuuld  I  faU, 
Who  to  a  crowded  audience  told  his  tale. 
And  laugh*d  and  lh|n«ir'd  all  the  while  MmAM 
To  grace  tlie  ttory,  as  he  thoitthi,  poor  etf  I 
But  not  a  fmgle  fbul  his  fufftage  gave— 
While  each  long  phis  was  Terlous  as  the  grave  f 

"^"ftmlM     '  ^^^  "«»^»  Uugh  loud  f  (n«» 
I  thought  vou  an,  ere  thb,  would  die  with  la«gh. 


This  did  the  feat ;  for.  tickled  at  the  vftim« 
A  burft  of  laugh  rer,  like  the  eledikk  beam, 
Shook  all  the  audience— ^t  h:  mu  at  him  ! 
Like  Hodge,  (hould  cv'ry  ftratagen  and  while 
Thro*  my  long  ftory,  no't  excite  a  fmfle, 
I'll  bear  it  with  becoming  modcfty  ; 
But  (hould  my  feeble  dTorU  move  your  dee, 
Laugh, If  yon  firirly  can-^at  not  at  MCI 


AN     EPITAPH. 


By  Prhr, 

'*  Sid  tuicunqwe  vela  fvtens 

**  AvU  cmlmine  itiiriMf    \S^e,     StKtft 

INTERR*D  beneath  this  marble  ftoae 

Lie  fauntering  Tack  and  idle  Joan. 

While  rollinp  tnreefcorc  years  and  one 

Did  round  this  globe  their  courfes  run } 

If  hunun  tliingj  went  ill  or  wdl. 

If  changing  empires  rofe  or  fdl, 

The  mominc  paft,  the  evening  came. 

And  found  this  couple  Hilt  the  fame. 

They  walk'd,  and  eat,  goods  folks  :  whit  dn  I 

Why  then  they  walk'd  and  ear  again  : 

They  foundly  flept  the  night  away  ; 

They  did  jutt  nothing;  all  the  day  : 

And,  having  bury'd  children  ft»uf, 

Would  not  take  nains  to  try  for  mote. 

Nor  fitter  dtner  had  nor  brother  } 

Thev  feem'd  juft  tally  d  for  each  other. 

Tneir  moral  and  oeconomy 
Moft  perfedly  they  made  agree  t 
Each  virtue  k^  ks  proper  bound. 
Nor  tref^aA'd  on  the  other's  ground. 
Nor  fame  nor  ccniure  they  regarded ; 
They  ndther  punHn'd  nor  rewarded. 
He  car'd  not  what  the  footman  did  : 
Her  maids  (he  neither  prais'd  nor  chid  ; 
So  every  fervanttook  hk  courfe  i 
And.  bad  at  firft,  they  all  crew  worft. 
Slothfol  diforder  fill'd  his  ftable. 
And  lluttiih  plenty  deck *d  her  table. 
Thdr  beer  was  ilrong  j  their  wine  was  pott  j 
Their  meal  was  large  :  their  grace  was  ihoit. 
They  gave  the  poor  the  remnant  meat, 
Juft  when  it  grew  not  fit  to  cat. 

They  paid  the  church  and  parMh  ratd 
And  took,  but  read  not,  the  receipt } 
For  which  they  daim  their  Sunday's  doe, 
Of  flumbering  in  an  upper  pew. 

Na  man's  defeds  fought  they  to  know ; 
So  never  made  themfe^es  a  foe. 
No  nun's  good  deeds  did  they  comm^  i 
So  never  rah'd  themfdvcs  a  friend. 
Nor  cherhh'd  they  relations  poor. 
That  might  decreaft  their  prefent  ftorc : 
NOr  bam  nor  houfe  did  they  repair  ; 
Tlut  nnight  oblige  their  future  hdr. 

lliey  ndther  added    nor  confounded } 
Tliey  neither  wanted  nor  abounded  : 
Each  Chriftroas  they  accompts  did  dear. 
And  wmiad  thdr  bottosn  round  the  year: 
Nor  tear  nor  fmilc  did  they  cmpluy 
At  newK  of  publick  grief  or  joy  : 
When  bells  were  rung,  and  bonfires  made, 
If  alk  d,  they  ne'er  aeny'd  their  aid  : 
Theb*  jug  was  to  the  ringers  carried. 
Whoever  other  Ulcd  or  married. 
Tlieh-  billet  at  the.  fife  wa*  foond. 
Whoever  was  depos'd  or  crown'd. 

Nor  good,  nor  had,  nor  jMti^not  wHb  i 
They  would  not  team,  nor  couKfudaifiCff 
Without  love,  hatred,  joy,  or  fear, 
Thef  led— a  kind  of— as  It  were  :  ^ 

Nor  with  d,  not  car'd,  nor  laugh'd,.n9r  t"" 
And  lb  they  liv'd,  and  (b  they  dkd. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


S4f 


THE  BOSTON  REVIEW, 

Fowl    MAYj     1806, 


Lftnun  taam  legi  ie  quara  dSigentlMliiie  potol  andoOnfl.  ppUt  comoMitaiidft,  ««a  c .  „ 

Mtntcr.     Kim  t^  (U<^e  Teram  atiabrl.     Neqoe  uJll  pitieiitiiM  rcpreboidiiotur  qiua   qol 


AKf.    19, 

Onr  God  in  one  firraon  only  /  and 
JeMUM  ChTt9t  a  dittinct  being 
frwn  Qadf  maintained  and  de* 
ftndtd.  By  John  Shermanyfia^^ 
tar  of  the  Jirat  efmrch  in  MamM^ 
fiMy  (Can.)  Worcester.  I. 
TlKMiias^jilii.  1805.8T;o.y^/k.l98. 

Wflsif  we  saw  this  book  an- 
flounced)  we  knew  not  whether  its 
appearance  was  to  be  deprecated 
as  a  signal  of  theological  warfare, 
or  whether  it  should  be  hailed  aa 
the  harbinger  of  a^rakened  learn* 
Ing,  inquiry,  and  industry  among 
our  clergy.  Though  the  trtnita* 
Han  controreray  has  now  existed 
more  than  sixteen  centuriesy  and 
was  kept  up  in  England  during  the 
whole  of  the  last  age  with  little  in- 
termissaon,  first  with  the  Arians, 
and  afterwards  with  the  Sodnians, 
yet  we  belieTe  that  the  present 
treatise  is  one  of  the  first  acts  of 
direct  hostility  against  the  ortho- 
doXf  which  has  ever  been  com- 
tnitted  on  these  western  shoreb. 
Coming  so  late  as  Mr.  S.  now 
must  to  the  scene  of  action,  he  can 
hope  to  attack  or  to  defend  only 
with  weapons  stnpped  from  the 
bodies  of  the  slain,  who  are  heap'> 
ed  in  heatry  piles  on  the  Held  of 
liieologioal  dispuution. 

The  present  work,  we  observe) 
is  not  written  to  establish  any  new 
upinion  respecting  the  character 
of  Christ,  but  ia  confined  merely 
t»a  denial  of  his  deity  in  general^ 

Vol.  III.  No.  5.     2H 


and  the  received  ddctritie  of  the 
trinity  in  particular.  In  the  fol* 
lowing  review  we  shall  ehdcavouf 
to  give  an  impartial  account  of  the 
work  )  to  correct  any  palpable  er* 
rours  of  fact ;  oocasionally  to  point 
out  deficiencies ;  and  sometimes  M 
censure  and  sometimes  to  com- 
mend, without  enlisting  ourselves 
under  the  banners  of  Mr.  Sherman 
or  his  antagonists. 

In  the  introdiK?tion  Mr.  8.,  aft 
ter  some  remarks  oh  the  specula^ 
live  differences  among  christians, 
and  the  necessity  of  religious  ca* 
tholicism)  prepares  his  reader  fdf 
his  occasional  deviations  from  the 
received  text  and  translation  of  the 
scriptures  by  vindicating  the  pro- 
priety of  such  alterations  from  the 
constant  improvement  in  biblical 
criticism,  frtwn  the  history  of  our 
present  English  version,  and  la^ 
ly,  from  the  authority  of  the  Sayf 
brook  assembly^  which  declaresi 
<<  that  the  originals  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testament  are  the  final  tesoit 
in  ail  cases  of  controversy."  The 
occasion  of  publishing  this  work 
and  the  situation  of  the  author  are 
set  forth  in  the  following  passage. 

My  fendmeott  becoming  difftrent, 
from  thofe  believed  and  avowed  at  my 
ordbation,  hone(ly  compelled  me  frank- 
ly to  declare  them,  notwithflanding  the 
evils,  which  the  ftateof  the  timet  gkve 
me  to  Ibrefee^  woeld  undeubcedly  be  re- 
alized in  confequeace.  I  have  not  been 
difappoinced. 

The    publication  of   my    fentimentt 
gave  mnbrafi  xa  the  Origiaal  ASocA* 


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250 


SHERMAN  ON  THE  TEINITT* 


tlon  of  MtntDen  in  the  county  of  Wind- 
ham ;  and  they  proceeded  to  expel  me, 
on  this  account,  not  only  from  their 
body»  as  a  voluntary  Auociation,  but 
from  all  **  mmiJlMal  eomnexhn.** 

It  was  my  intention  to  have  publifl> 
ed  a  general  (Utemeat  of  the  manner  in 
which  this  affiiir  was  brought  to  its  cri- 
fis.    But  for  certain  reafons  which  I  did 


high  and  obscure  cxpressitms  ftt 
the  entrance  of  Christ  on  his  pub* 
lick  ministry,  L.  Crellius  wasted  an 
immensity  of  learning  to  make  it 
probable  Uiat  we  should  read  ^v  in- 
stead of  hK  in  the  first  verse  ; 
Clarke  and  the  Arians  are  contented 


r  ai  '     >        c^     ►.  •  -*     ^^^    ^^    affixing:  to    Smc  without  the 
not  fufficientty  confider,  it  u  at  prefent  x   — :  i  u     j«    V^  -u 

withheld.  I  would  only  obferve,  that,  by  ^arUcle  a  subordinate    sense  ;  the 
the  decree  of  the  Aflbciation,  or  any  de-     nH>re  modem  Unitarians  suppose 


crees  which,  as  a  body  cf  mere  EesUfiaJlickSf 
Vfithout  mfpemtmna  fnm  the  dntrdm^  viihota 
their  JanSioH,  and  witbrnit  putfuing  tbe  ngular 
Jt/ctpUne  pcittted  out  by  our  Lord^  they  may 
alTume  the  authority  to  makej  confider  my 
good  chriftian  andminiderial  (hmdingnot 
m  the  leaft  degree  impaired.  Were  they 
an  ecdeliaftical  court, known  in  thefcrip- 
lures ;  had  they  charged  me  with  crimt, 
with  a  breach  of  the  divine  law  to  man- 
kind ;  and  were  there  any  other  kind  of 
iniquity  found  cleaving  to  my  garment, 
than  that  /  cannot  fee  with  tbeir  eyes,  and 
perceive  wtb  tbeir  undetfandings  ;  I  might 
conlider  myfelf  as  a£n^Ud  by  their  de- 
cilion.  Butt  as  the  matter  now  (lands,  I 
feel  the  authority  of  the  Lord  Jefus  ftill 
refHng  upon  me,  and  fhal!  not  defert  my 
tninifterial  office.  They,  and  others  who 
ihall  fubfcribe  to  their  doings,  may  treat 
me  according  to  their  pleafure  :  There 
is  One  that  judgeth  between  us.  To 
HIM  (hall  the  appeal  be  made. 

The  work  is  divided  into  two 
parts.  In  the  first  the  author  en- 
tieavours  to  shew  ^  that  the  pas- 
sages and  considerations  alleged 
in  fiivour  of  the  supreme  and  inde* 
pendent  deity  of  Christ  do  not  es- 
tablish such  doctrine  concerning 
him.'* 

In  the  first  section,  those  pas- 
sages are  examined^  which  repre- 
sent Christ  as  the  creatcr  of  all 
worlds.  These  are  John  i.  1 — 14. 
Col.  i.  16,  17.  Heb.  i.  The  pro- 
cm  to  John'^s  gospel  has  long  been 
the  crux  antitrinitariaTJorunu  They 
have  agreed  in  nothing  but  to 
wrest  it  from  the  hand&of  the  ortho- 
doxybut  have  nererbeen  able  to  con- 
vert h  into  an  auxiliary.  Though 
some  of  the  early  Polish  Socinians 
thought  they  could  apply  all  its 


that  the  word  xvyoc  does  not  here 
signify  a  person,  but  only  an  at- 
tribute of  Deity,  and  that  there  is 
no  imequivocal  intimation  of  Christ 
till  the  8th  verse  ;  and  last^  all, 
a  cridck,  whose  femiliarity  with 
scriptural  phrases  and  terms  is 
not  inferiour  to  the  knowledge  of 
any  of  his  predecessors,  Newcome 
Cappe,  has  ventured  to  restore  and 
vindicate  the  original  interpreta* 
tion  of  Socinus.  Mr.  S.  adopts 
the  most  common  explanation  of 
the  Unitarians,  that  by  jwyoc  is  in* 
tended  the  reason,  or  wisdom  of 
God,  which  the  evangelist  elo- 
quently personifies.  We  find 
some  remarks  on  the  use  of  the 
preposition  «^,  and  the  word  »- 
Kin«»nv,  which  ai*e  not  unimportantf , 
and  then  are  called  to  the  faotious 
passage  in  Col.  L    1&,   17. 

The  difficulties,  which  attend  the 
explanation  of  these  vereeSias  refer-  . 
ring  to  the  new  moral  creation^  or 
rather  orgauKation  undev  the  gos* 
pelysre  not  a  few ;  and  Mr.  S.  has 
in  some  degree  injured  the  plau- 
sibility and  compactness  of  his 
own  interpretadon  by  not  suffic- 
iently attending  to  the  propriety 
of  clearly  referring  all  the  clauses 
without  exception  either  to  one 
Creadon  or  the  other.  Hence  we 
think  he  should  have  admitted  no 
other  interpretation  of  wfonronof  tk 
nrievK  than  this,  *^  first-bom  or  most 
eminent  of  the  whole  creation  ;** 
in  the  same  sense  in  which  Christ 
is  elsewhere  styled  ^Jim  dom  a- 
mong^  numy  brethren^'  Ronu  viik 


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ts\ 


n.  Mr.  S.  also  argues  in  fiaiyaur 
of  the  identity  of  the  agency  at- 
tributed to  Christ  in  the  16th  and 
in  the  3.0th  versesy  from  the  use 
of  the  same  preposition  <<  by"  in 
our  .English  version  ;  vhen  he 
must  hare  recoHected^  that  in  the 
original  n  is  used  in  the  former, 
jmd  ito  in  the  latter  clause.  Tliis 
Yaiiation,  though  it  does  not  de- 
stroy the  force  of  the  argument, 
yet  deserved  to  be  noted.  By 
*<  things  4n  heav^"  Mr.  S.  sup- 
poses are  meant,  Jews,  and  by 
«  things  in  earth,*'  Gentiles.  The 
passages,  quoted  to  illustrate  this 
meaning  of  the  words,  certainly 
prove  no  such  application  ;  for 
though  by  ^  new  heavens  and  «ew 
earth,"  in  Isaiah,  is  probably  in- 
tended the  Nourishing  state  of  the 
christian  church,  in  which  Jews 
and  GentUes  are  included,  we  have 
never  yet  seen  any  passage  which 
decisively  .shows,  that  Gentiles  arc 
ever  described  under  the  figure  of 
the  eauby.or  Jews  under  that  of 
heaven. 

In  the  second  section  are  exam^ 
ined  the  proofs  of  Christ's  omm- 
fiotcnccy  which  jare  usually  drawn 
£rom  the  introduction  to  the  epis- 
tle to  the  Hebrews.  Onthbpasi- 
sage  the  author  is  unusually  kioid  % 
aii4  cong;raXulates  himself  on  hav- 
ing driued  from  it  ^^  substantial 
and  inviiiciy>le  evidence  of  the  truth 
AfhisdoMCtrine." 

In  th|e  third  section  are  consid- 
ered the  texts,  which  are  supposed 
to  teach  the  omnUcience  of  Christ. 
Here  we  think  the  author  quarrels 
unnecessarily  with  our  English 
translation  of  Rev.  u.  ^3.  The 
expressions  which  he  would  sub- 
stitute are  not  nearer  to  the  orig- 
inal, than  those  which  he  aon* 
demns. 

Section  fourth  contains  a  long 
quotation  from  Christie  to  explain 
John  iii.  1 3.     The  author  then  en- 


deavours,  though  wit^i  no  peculiar 
ingenuity,  to  obviate  the  proofs 
from  other  texts  of  Christ's  omm^ 
fire9cnce.  The  passages  which 
are  adduced  to  prove  the  eternity 
and  immutabiHty  of  Christ  are  ex- 
amined in  the  two  next  sections, 
and  in  the  seventh  the  power  which 
our  Saviour  exercised  on  earth  of 
forgiving  ^s^ns  is  discussed  with 
much  learning  and  acuteness.  The 
distinction  is  pointed  out  between 
i^MTMc  and  Xvmfus ;  It  is  shown  that  the 
former,  derived  from  tfyfi^itia  law» 
fuly  conveys  the  idea  of  licence,  le- 
gality, or  a  moral  right  to  exer- 
cise a\^thority  ;  and  that  it  is  the 
word  used  by  our  Saviour  tp  sig- 
nify the  power  oi  forgiveness 
which  he  exercised  on  earth.  It 
is  aftemvards  maintained  and  con- 
firmed by  the  trathocity  of  CalyaU) 
Macknight,  and  Pool,  that  the  for- 
giveness of  the  sins  of  the  para* 
lytick  in  the  passage  in  question 
means  only  his  deliverance  from 
his  disorder.  This  Jewish  mode 
of  speech  is  then  illustrated  by 
several  passages  in  Isaiah,  and  a 
similar  representation  from  the 
New  Testament  is  produced  in  the 
following  passage.  The  argu- 
ment we  do  oot  recollect  to  have 
spen  stated  before  with  equal  acute- 
ness. 

A  very  plain  example  of  fimilar  rep- 
r^eotatkm  occurs  in  the  New  TeAament* 
**  Then  faid  Jefus  unto  them  again,  Peac£ 
be  unto  you  :  At  my  Father  halh  fent 
me,  even  fo  I  fend  you.  And  when  he 
had  faid  this,  he  breathed  on  them  and 
iaith  unco  them,  Receive  ye  the  holy 
gfaofl.  Whofiefotver  fint  ye  remit  they 
are  remitted  unto  them  ;  and  whofefoev- 
er  fins  ye  retain  they  are  retained.** 
But  were  the  Apoflles  endowed  with  the 
power  of  forgiving  the  fins  of  men,  or 
fixing  their  fint  upon  them  in  the  literal 
fenfe  of  this  phrafcology  ?  All  that  can 
be  f^d,  concerning  them  in  this  rcfpedt, 
19,  that  they  bad  tit  pvwer  cf  healing  all 
manner  of  d'ifeafa^  and  infiiU'mg  judgments  §n 
fach  as  oppofM  them  in  the  performance  cf  the 
imtiu  of  tleir  mij/lon.     Accordingly  we 


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MfYIIMV  W  T»  f  %;»fTf . 


find,  that  PamI  omfcd  the  fim  of  JBlraa^ 
the  forcerer,  to  bt  retaiaed,  by  Qxiog 
blindneCi  upon  him,  for  labouring  to  turn 
away  the  deputy  from  the  faitL  Thb 
was  the  extent  of  the  Apo(Ue*t  power  to 
forgive  and  retain  iint.  This  therefore 
wai  all  that  Chrift  himfelf  pofleiTed,  while 
here  on  earth.  For  he  told  them,  that, 
as  the  Father  had  fent  him,  fo  he  com- 
miiiioned  them ;  i.  e.  with  the  lame  pow- 
er to  forgive  and  retain  iins  which  he 
poflefled.  There  can  be  no  queftion 
then,  that,  by  forgiving  the  fins  of  the 
paralytick/>uriArd  meant  nothing  more 
than  healing  him  of  his  diforder,  taking 
away  the  confequence  of  that  intemper- 
ance, of  which  he  had  been  gmlty. 
Hence  our  Lord  replies  to  the  maucious 
wrefting  of  his  words  by  the  Pharifees, 
iFhtther  U  it  eaftcr  to/ajy  Thy  Juu  ie  fyr* 
WvAi  ihtt  f  «r  /oySpr,  Arift  «md  %vaik  /  L  e. 
What  matter  is  it  about  the  ezpreflions, 
which  we  ufe,  if  they  are  but  in- 
telligible ?  Which  beft  conveys  the  idea 
of  cure,  to  fay  in  the  language  of  the 
prophets^  which  you  cannot  but  under- 
lUnd,  Tbyjimt  ht  f9rgto€m  ibet  f  or  to  lay 
in  plain  common  language,  Arife  and 
%oaU  f  Surely  you  dilblay  a  captious 
difpofitioo  in  cavilling  about  words.  StO^ 
ii0t  y$  may  know  thai  tbi  Son  0/  mam  katk 
vi$b»riiy  om  the  earth  H  hrgvinfms^  tO  taka 
away  the  difeafes  wliicn  come  upon  men 
for  their  fins,  th«m  faith  he  io  the/uJ  9/  the 
fa(/y,  Arife,  tah  up  thy  hett^  aitd  g9  inU 
Uite  hotfe,     p.  60. 

The  eighth  section  coMdns  a 
very  full  discussion  of  the  use  of 
the  word  ^orMfi  in  the  Old  and 
NewTestament,  in  order  to  prov^y 
vhat  we  believe  no  one  will  deny, 
that  ^  there  is  nothing  in  the  word 
itfcoxxma  itself,  which  confines  it  to 
divine  homage.  The  kind  of  hom- 
age implied  in  any  particular  in-* 
stance  is  to  be  decided  by  the 
circumstances  under  which  it  is 
paid."     P.  62. 

The  next  sectfbn  is  employed 
in  examining  several  important 
texts,  in  which  name^  and  titles  1^ 
propriated  to  God  appear  to  be 
given  to  Christ.  We  4)ave  i|ot 
room  to  pass  every  criticism  in 
review  before  us  ;  a  few  remarks 
on  some  erroneous  suppositions  of 
Mr.  S.  may  not  be  unprofitable. 


Oe  tb«  on^aal  of  Jotm  sx.  %ih 
Mr.  S..  makes  xht  foUowing  6^ 
aervation ; 

Both  xv^  and  ^roc,  Lord  and  God, 
are  in  the  nominative,  and  require  ibme 
verb  to  ibcceed,  ia  order  so  nnkc  feftih. 
9ior  Opd,  is,  tndaed,  oltta  vM»  for  thm 
vocative.  But  we  have  never  iofo  aa 
inflance  of  this  ufe  of  tvfioc  Lord.  It  t< 
believed,that  there  is  no  example  of  it  in 
the  fcriptures. 

What  does  Mr.  S.  think  of  Jolui 

XUl.    13.  ^fOK  fBWMfV/M,   I  /llB^waSCy   1UU 

•  tM^mt  ^  lie  bad  better  atoo  have 
forbomto  supply^  what  he  tup- 
poses  to  be  the  ellipsis  in  thia  ex* 
clamatioA  of  Thomas. 

Jerem.  xxiii.  6.  ^  Hb  name 
shall  be  called  Jehovah  our  right- 
•ousnesa.*'  On  this  appellation 
Mr.  S.  observes,  ^  Chrkt  is  here 
called,  in  Hebrew,  Jehmahm^Twi* 
kenu.  Abraham,  that  Father  of 
the  fidthfol,  called  the  ineunt,  on 
which  he  was  to  sacrifice  his  Son, 
JehoYah-*-Jireh.  Motes  built  an 
akar  and  called  it  J£HOVAH 
Nissip— Gideon  built  an  altar  and 
called  it  JEHOVAH—Shal- 
lum.  Yea,  when  Darid  brought 
up  the  ark,  from  the  house  of  0« 
bededom,  to  the  city  of  David,  he 
styles  it,  in  his  song  on  the  occa* 
sion,  both  Qod  and  Jthovah  ^  God 
it  g<me  np.  vnth  a  MAout^  the  lArd 
(Heb.  Jehovah)  vaUh  the  9ound  qf 
the  truwfiet.  Thus  evident  is  it,. 
that  Jehovah  is  not  a  name  appro^ 
priated  only  to  i^e  supreme  God.'* 
Here  we  think  the  zeal  of  the  au« 
thor  has  rather  overleaped  his  good 
sense,  and  led  him  to  express  him^ 
self  inaccurately.  If  any  thing  ia 
plain  from  the  OM  Testament,  k 
is,  thsi,  the  title  Jehovah  can  in 
stricmess  of  speech  be  given  to 
none  but  the  only  true  God.  >&• 
cause  it  is,  sometimes  used  in  com^ 
portion  with  other  words,  at  in 
the  instances  above  cited,  to  con* 
stitute  a  name,  it  cannot  wiibh  any 
more  propriety  be  said,  that  per- 


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S5$ 


ittis  or  tfatogs  Urns  nomiiMited  are 
caJkd  Jeboivtth^  tlian  that  the  city 
Elizabelhtown  is  called  Elizabeth. 
Surelf  also  it  caimot  be  supposed 
by  any  persoQ)  who  attends  to  the 
subject,  that,  in  the  passage  which 
Mr.  S.  has  quoted  from  Psalm 
xifii.,  the  ark  is  called  either  God 
or  Jehovah. 

We  are  also  satisfied  that  the 
author  is  mistaken  in  lus  inter* 
pretatioD  <^  Isaiah  viii.  li.  com- 
pared with  1  Pet.  ii.  8  ;  but  we 
can  Mily  refer  him  to  a  most  val- 
uable Dote  of  the  learned  James 
Peirce?  on  Heb.  iL  IS.,  and  also  to 
Dodson  on  this  passage  in  Isaiah  ; 
£oir  tbe  limits  of  our  review,  and 
perhaps  others  will  say  of  our 
knowledge,  do  not  allow  us  to 
expatiate  in  elaborate  cridcism, 
and  copious  illustration. 

**  We  Dow  proceed  to  exam- 
ine," aajra  Mr.  S.  in  the  next  sec* 
tion,  ^  such  passages  as  are  said  to 
indicate  or  imply  two  natures  in 
Christy  a  divine  and  human  na- 
ture.'* After  stating  the  argu- 
ments in  fervour  of  the  reading  j 
in  1  Tim.  iii.  16.  Mr.  S.  offers  the 
blowing  translation  of  a  passage, 
which,  we  beUeve,  will  forever  ex- 
cruciate the  wit  of  the  antitriiuta? 
mn. 

Indeed  openly  proclaimed  to  all  rank» 
saddefcriptiojif  »  the  fublimemyAery  of 
SodJiads,  which  hat  been  made  koowa 
to  mortal  man,  fubAantiated  by  miracu- 
loiu  atteftationi,  rerealed  to  infpirc4 
neffeogen,  preached  to  the  nations,  cre^ 
dited  bj  the  worl^,  ^braced  with  jo^t 
M  exohatioQ. 

Mr-  S.  must  pardon  us  for  our 
c|uniQB»  that  he  derives  not  his 
prbkc^nl  credit  from  his  original 
attempts  at  Greek  criticism.  He 
makes  several  remarks  to  justify 
his  unnecessary  and  paraph  rastick 
version  of  iftoMyvfttws,  a  word  to 
\f  hich  cimfetaediy  in  Engli^  ex- 
actly covrespooda. 


W^ntfti  (in  Mr.  S.'s  version,  te 
mortal  man)  cannot  be  justified  by 
any  parallel  passage  in  scripturey 
and  hardly  by  theGreek  idiom  ;  «Hti 
is  nevei^  used  in  the  passive  to  ex* 
press  the  diaclosure  of  truths  to 
the  understanding  ;  and  finally,  it 
is  too  much  to  say  that  the  verb 
aomuififitno  no  morc  signifies  tq  re« 
ceive  ufiy  than  it  does  to  receive 
down,'*  Though  its  classical  use 
is  undoubtedly  extensive,  yet  in 
the  New  Testament  it  is  repeated* 
ly  used  to  signify  the  assumption 
of  Jesus  into  heaven.  Indeed 
whether  e,  or  •f,  or  ^  be  the  true 
reading  in  this  celebrated  text,  we 
think  every  impartial  theologian 
must  confess  that  the  subsequent 
clauses  can  be  properly  applied 
to  a  person  only,  and  to  no  person 
but  Jesus  Christ. 

Mr.  S.  conjectures  that  him  is 
the  true  reading  in  Zach.  xii.  10. 
He  might  have  added,  that  Ken« 
nicott  assures  us  it  is  found  in 
Jbriy  Hebrew  MSS.  to  whkh  Do 
Rossi  has  add^  the  authority  of 
several  edkiona* 

On  the  celebrated  prediction  of 
the  birth  of  Jesus  in  Isaiah  vii.  14. 
we  have  much  to  obaene,  but  this 
is  not  the  place  for  our  remarks. 
We  will  only  suggest,  that  if  thia 
prediction,  as  |lrlr.  S.  supposes, 
does  hot  relate  to  the  birth  of 
Christ,  there  is  no  Htei^  predic- 
tion of  his  birth  In  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. It  is  true  that  many  ilkis* 
trious  pames  ip  acriptural  criti- 
cism, among  whom  we  may  men-i 
tion  Grotius,  support  Mr.  S.  in  his 
opinion  ;  but  it  should  he  recol- 
lected, that  they  also  maintained  a 
double  sense  of  the  prophecy^ 
whereas  Mr.  S.  with  Porphyry,  the 
modem  Jews,  and  the  subtile  Col- 
lins not  only  contends  that  the 
name  Imnmnuel  belongs  only  ta 
the  child  which  the  prophetess  of 
that  time  was  to  conceive,  but  &r* 


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SSmMAir  OH  THS  T&IiriTY. 


ther  supposes  that  the  eYsngettst 
in  Matth.  i.  23.  does  not  mean  to 
apply  it  in  any  sense>  as  a  firedic- 
Hon  of  the  birth  of  Jesus.  Mr.  S. 
▼entures  also  to  intimate  his  doubt 
whether  Isaiah  ix.  6,  7.  has  any 
reference  to  Christ.  We  are  fully 
sensible  of  the  difficulties,  which 
attend  the  application  of  prophe- 
cies under  the  old  dispensation 
to  characters  and  events  in  the 
new,  but  we  are  not  yet  prepared 
(o  give  up  these  capital  predic- 
tions, though  they  have  always 
perplexed  the  apologist  for  Christ- 
ianity, as  well  as  the  oontrover- 
aiaiist.  We  think  also  that  a  more 
full  and  accurate  account  of  the 
Tariations  of  the  different  versions 
in  this  latter  passage  might  have 
been  expected. 

Section  twelfth,  upon  the  plu* 
iPoUtm*  applied  to  God  in  tlie  Old 
Testament,  and  section  thirteenth, 
upon  the  appearances  of  wliat  is 
called  the  €ngel  of  the  Lordj  are 
written  with  much  abiUty  ;  and  a 
consideration  of  two  very  popular 
objections,  in  section  fourteenth, 
closes  this  part  of  the  work.  In 
answer  to  the  question  what  atone- 
ment can  there  be,  if  Christ  be 
not  verily  the  supreme  God,  Mr. 
S.  has  the  following  observations. 

Did  thefuppofed  (ffviae  matun  become 
obedient  unto  death,  even  the  death  of 
the  croff  ?  Did  divinity  itfcif  fuffer  ? 
Our  opponents  do  not  pretend  it.  This 
is  true  only  of  the  man  Chrifl  Jefus, 
Whatever  virtue  in  his  obedience  unto 
death,  mufl  therefore  be  the  virtue  of  the 
man  ChriA  Jefus  only. 

But,  fay  our  opponents,  the  union  of 
divinity  to  the  huqianity  conferred  an 
infinite  dignity  upon  the  fufferings  of  the 
human  nature,  and  rendered  them  infi. 
nitely  precious,  fo  as  to  amount,  in  effiscty 
to  the  eternal  fufiierings  of  the  whole  hu* 
man  race.  Thus  Chrift  fatisfied  the  de- 
mands of  juftice,  in  the  room  and  (lead 
of  our  apofbte  world. 

Th^  do(ftrine  that  the  union  of  the 
divinity  to  humanity  conferred  an  infinity 


dignity  upon  the  Mkntifgt  of  thekniiiia 
nature,  is  only  an  tBwgination  of  their 
own  brain;  for  the  fcripturesiay  nothing 
of  this  abfurdity.  They  fay  nothing  of 
the  virtue  of  his  fufferings  being  en- 
hanced by  any  fnch  connexion.  If  the 
nnion  of  Deity  to  hmnanity  rendered  the 
humanity  any  thing  different  from  mere 
humanity  ;  if  it  raifiad  it  beyond  its  na- 
tural dignity  to  the  dignity  of  God ;  why 
may  we  not  conclude,  that  it  rendered  it 
impoffihUi  imeapaUt  offyfferimg  ?  This,  in  the 
days  of  the  apofUes,  was  the  condufioa 
of  certain  metaphyseal  reaibners.  And 
it  nuy  be  as  well  inferred,  from  the  con- 
fideration  of  the  union  of  Deity  to  huma- 
nity, that  Chrifl  mud  have  been  imp^phU^ 
as  that  the  fufferings  of  the  man  dhrilk 
Jefuswere  infinitely  more  than  human 
fufferings. 

It  was,  fay  our  opponents,  m  £vime  ptf 
fit,  who  fufifi;red ;  and  therefore  thefe 
fufferingt  were  precious,  in  proportion 
to  the  dignity  of  the  perfonage  fuffering. 
They  will  have  it  that  it  was  GOD,  who 
died  on  the  crofs. 

That  Chnft  was  really  the  infinite  God. 
is  a  do<£hine  not  known  in  the  fcriptures^ 
Befides,  may  we  not  turn  the  tables  and 
iay,  that  God*s  hungering  and  thirfHng, 
in  the  human  nature,  after  earthly  food, 
was  infinitely  derogatory  from  the  dig- 
nity of  the  divine  nature,  as  to  affirm, 
thut  God's  fuffering  on  the  crofs,  in  the 
human  nature,  conferred  an  infinite  dig* 
nity  upon  that,  and  rendered  its  fufTeringt 
inconceivably  more  precious,  than  mere- 
ly human  fufferings  ?  Sufferings  furely 
denote  great  wealuiefs,  want  of  flrength. 
and  dignity  of  nature.  And,  fince  the 
infinite  God  fuffered,  he  mufl  be  very 
tttfai,  impoUfitf  and  devoid  of  dignity. 

Do  our  opponei^ts  diflike  this  repre? 
fentation  ?  Will  they  fay  that  thefe  things 
are  true  only  of  the  human  nature,  the 
man  Chrifl  Jefus  ?  Thfn  let  them  not  con- 
found things  which  they  thcmfclves  dif- 
Hnguifh.  Let  them  acknowledge,  that 
the  fufferings  of  the  man  Chrifl  JdTus 
were  clothed  with  no  ether  than  merely 
human  dimity  ;  and  were  no  more  pre- 
cious than  merely  human  fufferings.  Let 
th^m  look  out  for  fome  more  fcriptural 
and  rational  do^rine  of  atonement :  For 
there  is,  clearly,  no  more  ability  in  the 
man  Chrifl  JcA|s  to  fatisfy  divine  jufKce, 
upon  their  fcheme,  than  upon  oum^ 
P.  142. 

1  he  second  part  is  introduce 
by  the  following  stat^tnentf 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


SttXmCAlr  ON  THE  TElKlTt. 


sss 


Hating  fhown  upon  what  grounds 
we  are  noc  c«nvtncad,  hj  the  argumenu 
of  the  advocates  for  the  fupreuie  and  in- 
dependent deity  of  Chrift,  we  proceied  to 
ftate  what  appears  to  us  dire£i  mmd  p^ftivt 
frmf,  tAat  drift  is  tmt  ih*  ucft  bigb  Gii^  ha 
m  iiiag  eniirtly  SfmB  frmm  Chd^  hferiomr  mud 
deftmdady  bi$  Smjir^mmt^  meffimitry  5cc 

In  what  follows  there  is  noth- 
ing remarkable,  because  if  Christ 
is  really  a  human  being  only^  there 
cannot  be  much  room  for  laborious 
criticism  or  ingenious  illustration 
of  passages  in  which  he  is  repre- 
sented %A  a  man.  The  parade  of 
mathematical  reasoning  in  page 
147  'is>  we  think,  childish  and  un- 
necessary. The  remarks  in  sec- 
tion 2,  upon  the  meaning  of  the 
word  «<m,  are  acute,  and  upon  the 
prayer  of  Christ  upon  the  cross, 
forcible.  To  prove  Christ  a  dis- 
tinct and  dependent  being,  we  have 
found  no  place  in  the  present  vol- 
mne,  where  the  reasons  are  more 
forcibly  stated  than  in  the  follow- 
ing passage. 

We  come*  now,  to  a  very  memorable 
psiffage,  which  embraces  the  whole  eco- 
nomy of  Chrift's  exaltation,  and   which 
ftates  minutely  the  duration  and  ifTue  of 
it.    **  Then  cometh  the  end,  when  he 
flull  have  delivered  up  the  kingdom  to 
God,  even  the  Father,  when  he  {ball  have 
put  down  all  rule,  and  all  authority  and 
power.    For  he  muft  reign  till  he  hath 
put  all  enemies  under  his   feet.    The  la(t 
enemy  that  (hall  be  deflroyed*  is  death. 
For  he  hath  put  all  things  under  him. 
But,  when  he  faith  all  things  are  put  un- 
der hsm,  it  is  manifefl  that  he  is  except- 
ed, which  did  put  all  things  under  him. 
And,  when  all   things  fhaU  be  fubdued 
nnder  him,  then  ihsdl  the  Son  aUb  him- 
self be  fubje<fi  unto  him   that  put  all 
things  under  him,  that  God   may  be  all 
2d  all.**      In  this  paifage  the  following 
things  are  worthy  of  obfervation. 
mI.    The  Son  is  fpoken  of  under  his 
PBgheft  defignation.    This  the  moft  emi- 
aent  advocates  of  his  deity  are  compelled 
to  acknowledge  ;  for  he  is  fpoken  of  in 
dM  capacity  of  ruling  and  governing  all 
tilings,  and  fubjedting  every  thing  to  his 
dominion,  excepting  the  infinite   God  : 
Which  they  fay  is  beyond  the  power  of 
a  creature  to  pcrforok 


8.  He  is  reprefentod  at  a  difHnd  be- 
ing from  God^-~To  God  he  is  co  delivef 
lip  the  kingdom,  and  God  is  excepted 
from  the  number  of  beings  to  be  fubje€t- 
ed  to  him  ;  which  manifefts  that  God  is 
as  diftindl  A  being  frottt  hioi,  as  thofe  not 
excepted.  Indeed  if  he  were  not  thua 
diftinguiihed,  there  would  be  so  proprie* 
ty  in  making  the  exception. 

S.  The  extraordinary  powers  by 
which  he  puts  down  all  rule  and  authcv* 
rity,  and  fubdues  all  things  to  himfeir» 
are  reprefented  as  not  inherent,  but  dele* 
gated  powers  from  that  God,  **  who  did 
put  all  things  under  him.** 

4.  InunMiiately  after  the  fubje<^on  of 
the  lad  enemy,  death,  the  Son  is  to  relin- 
quilh  the  management  of  the  kingdom  to 
God. 

5.  Then  the  Son  himfelf  is  to  become 
a  fubjedk  to  him,  who  did  put  all  things 
under  him.  'The  meaning  of  this  plainly 
is,  that  the  Son  fliall  then  defcend  from 
his  exalted  ftate  of  authority.  He  (hall 
no  longer  bt  the  oftenfible  governour, 
vicegerent,  or  medium  through  whom 
God  r\iles  and  manages  all  things  ;  but 
ihall  appear  in  his  own  natural  rank« 
without  any  authority  over  his  fellow 
fubjecfb ;  and  God  (hall  govern  without 
any  vicegerent. 

The  whole  of  the  above  account  coin- 
cides, perfeiftty,  with  our  fcheme  of  fen- 
timent  ;  and  is  diretSbly  in  the  face  of  the 
fentiment  of  our  opponents.  According 
to  their  fcheme  the  Son  humbles  himfelf 
to  become  Mediator ;  and  is,  as  mediator, 
inferiour  to  the  Father.  Upon  the  con- 
dufioa  of  the  mediatorial  work,  then,  he 
muft  rife  to  bii  former  Jlation^  and  take  e- 
qual  rank  with  the  Father.  But  this  paf- 
fage  reprefents  that  he  is  to  taJte  a  lower 
fiation  tham  he  now  has,  and  tO  become  fub- 
\e^  to  him, who  put  all  things  under  him. 

Befides,  how  can  the  Son,  as  mediator, 
become  fubje<ft  when  he  ceafes  to  hold 
that  chara<Sier  ?  What  is  it  that  is  to  be 
fubjed^,  if  not  the  fecond  perfon  in  the 
Trinity  ? 

Further.  Our  opponents  '  fuppofe 
that,  when  the  economy  of  redemption 
is  finiHied,  the  mediator  is  to  deliver  up 
iht  kingdom  into  the  hand  of  God  ;  that 
IS,  of  the  three  perfons  jointly,  between 
whom  there  will  no  longer  be  any  eco- 
nomical fubordinati(m.  But  this  paflage 
a£*erts,  that  it  is  to  be  delivered  into  the 
hands  of  God  the  Father,  tbefirft  perfon  ; 
who  is  here  reprefented  as  having  put 
all  things  under  him,  So  that  the  jSon 
and  the  Holy  Ghoft  will  not  hold  a  rank 
equal  to  the  Father *s. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


i5i 


»otr*i  f  AMiuAa  Lsmrsjis. 


MortcffWf  m  00  on^  i»  excepted  from 
fttbicAioo  to  the  nedtatorial  Soo,  bat  he 
who  did  put  all  things  uader  hicn,  which 
if  the  Father  from  whom  th€  Son  recciv-* 
•d  the  kingdom,  and  tawhom  hedelivert 
it  «py  it  It  plain,  that  the  Holy  Ohoft  it 
■ot  excepted,  and  muft  be  one  who  it 
Ibfa^e^ed  to  the  Son.  And  at  the  Soo  it 
to  give  all  that  govemiBent  which  he 
received  into  the  hands  of  the  Father, 
he  taaS^  give  the  goTemmciit  o%tT  the 
Holy  OlMft  isto  hit  haodt,  fo  that  at  the 
tonclufion  of  the  economy  of  redemption 
the  Holy  Ghoil  will  fKll  be  under  the 
rule  of  thfe  Father  :  Contrary  to  their 
doctrine  on  thit  fubje^ 

Finally,  If  the  Son  it  to  delivar  up  the 
kicigdom  to  the  three  perfoni  jointly 
coniidered,  then  he  mud  deliver  up  the 
kinedom  to  himfelf,  he  being  one  of 
thefe  perfoot.     P.  ]6t. 

We  wish  that  we  had  room  to 
extract  the  remarks  on  the  form 
used  in  baptism,  and  on  the  term 
Holy  Sj^rit.  But  we  can  only  say 
of  the  last  section,  that,  in  our  0- 
pinion,  it  is  the  most  ingenious* 
plausible,  and  impressive  in  the 
whole  volume.  We  do  not  say 
timcliuive^  for  this  reason,  among 
others,  that  we  might  be  thought 
t6  intend  a  pun. 

The  style  of  Mr.  S.  though  not 
flowing  and  polite,  is  generally 
correct,  and  sufficiently  elegant  for 
polemick  writings.  We  think 
that  he  is  sometimes  too  familiar, 
and  sometimes  too  dogmatical. 
His  mode  of  attacking  his  adver- 
saries resembles  more  the  untu- 
tored  and  natural  dexterity  of  a 
rustlck  boxer,  than  the  gniceful 
flourishes  of  a  practised  fencing 
master.  By  declining  to  establish 
any  scheme  of  his  own,  relating  to 
the  person  of  Christ,  it  is  evident, 
tliitt  Mr.  S.  combats  the  trinita- 
rians  with  much  advantage.  Other 
controversialists  have  commonly 
wasted  their  strength  in  defending 
some  heretical  offspring  of  their 
own  braui,  and  by  this  incum- 
brance have  exposed  themselves 
t»  more  formidable  attacks^as  a 


man  fights  tinder  great  disadnn- 
tages  with  a  child  in  his  arms. 

We  have  been  thus  copious  in 
our  account  of  this  book,  on  ac- 
count of  the  novelty,  the  boldness, 
and  ^e  force  af  the  attack  which 
it  makes  on  a  doctrine,  which  is  at 
least  professedly    believed   by    a 
lai'ge  majority  of  the  clergy  of 
New-England.     If  they  read  tiiis 
book,  they  will  be  sensible  that  it 
must  either  be  answered,  or  thrown 
by  with   affected  contempt ;    for 
though  it  contains   not  an  argu- 
ment against  tlie  docti*ine  of  the 
trinity  which  has  not  been  often 
repeated,  still  it  offers  a  kind  of 
challenge  to  the  orthodox,  and  is 
written,  we  believe,  with  the  most 
imdissembled  conviction.     Let  the 
inexperienced  reader  however  keep 
in  mind,  '^  that  one  great  advan- 
tage possessed  bv  the  Unitarians 
in  their  wa 
results  froc 
of  their  be 
the  Unitari 
were  cons; 
masters  of 
their  turn 
ments  tenc 
system  din 
indirectly, 
soon  appeal 
their  groui 
•  Wflberftrct. 


ART.  20. 

FamUiar  Letter*  to  the  Eet^erend 
John  Sherman^  once  pastor  of  (t 
church  in  Mansfield^  in  fiartic* 
uiar  rtference  to  hia  late  jintU 
tiimtariun  treatise.  By  Daniel 
Dovfj  fm9tor  of  a  church  in. 
Thomfison^  (Con.)  Hartford. 
1806.     Svo. /i/i.  51. 

From  XJbXs  familiar  letter  writer 
the  person  of  Mr.  Sherman  is  in 
much  greater  danger  thaa  liis  ar- 


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ROtMEs's  AMEKICAN  AVNALS. 


257 


guments.  Our  readers  perhaps 
will  esteem  us  partial,  uncanduiy 
and  heretical  for  such  an  appar** 
ently  contumelious  remark;  but 
we  confidently  rest  our  justifica- 
tion on  their  unbiassed  judgment, 
if  they  should  ever  happen  to  read 
these  letters,  which  discover  the 
utmost  contempt  of  scriptural  crit- 
icism, ignorance  of  theological 
opinions,  impudence  of  style,  and 
bigotry  of  doctrine. 


ART.  21. 

American  Annals  ;  or  a  chronology 
teal  hUtory  of  America  from  its 
discovery  in  1492  to  1806.  In 
two  volumes.  By  Abiel  Holmes^ 
D,D.  A,  A.  S,  minister  of  the 
first  church  in  Cambridge.  Vol. 
I.  comfirinng  a  period  of  two 
hundred  years.  Cambridge.  W. 
Hilliard.     8vo. 

IN  Rome  the  people  were  care- 
ful to  mark  down  the  occurrences 
of  every  year.  Hence  the  name  of 
Annals.  This  register  was  safely 
preserved,  but  at  the  same  time  ex- 
posed to  publick  inspection,  that  ev- 
ery one  might  read  it,  and  every  er- 
ror be  corrected  by  those  who  could 
give  the  most  accurate  information. 
The  aiFairs  of  that  city  and  empire 
are  therefore  better  known,  than 
the  rise  and  progress  of  other  na- 
tions. We  know  not  only  what 
was  done  by  their  oonsulsy  but 
even  the  names  of  the  con- 
suls, from  Brutus  and  Collatinus  to 
the  destruction  of  the  empire.  If 
similar  records  had  been  kept  and 
preserved  in  other  nations,  or  if 
historical  societies  were  formed  in 
every  community,  who  should 
make  it  their  business  to  note 
transactions  rather,  than  to  write 
upon  the  times,  the  advantages 
resulting  to  the    cause  of  truth 

Vol.  III.  No.  5.     2  1 


would  be  exceedingly  important. 
Such  institutions  would  at  least 
provide  instruction  for  those  grave 
and  sober-minded  readers  who 
look  after  facts,  instead  of  seeking 
for  amusement  in  fabulous  sto- 
ries. 

Individuals  have  done  this  a- 
mong  ourselves.  The  fathers  of 
New  England,  though  in  some 
things  too  superstitious,  were  care- 
ful to  note  down,  not  only  what 
was  extraordinary  or  marvellous, 
but  also  common  events,  tlie  oc- 
currences of  the  year,  the  names 
of  persons  who  were  raised  to 
honour,  together  with  many  par- 
ticular circumstances  by  which 
posterity  might  judge  of  their 
characters.  Winthroii^  Johnsouy 
and  Prince  enabled  Hubbard^  JSTcoL 
and  Hutchinson  to  give  very  cor- 
rect information  of  the  affairs  of 
Massachusetts. 

We  say  nothing  of  the  Magna- 
lia^  that  comfiages  rerum,  where 
facts,  fables,  biography,  8cc.  &c.  are 
mingled  in  such  a  strange  manner^ 
as  to  be  a  chaos  of  remarks,  rather 
than  of  materials  ;  and  where  the 
writer,  whenever  he  tells  what  he 
himself  believes,  is  sure  to  stagger 
the  faith  of  others. 

Dr.  Holmes  has  extended  the 
plan  of  his  work  and  calls  it  Ameri- 
can  Ajinals.  <«  While  local  histo- 
ries of  particular  portions  of  A- 
merica  have  been  written,  no  at- 
tempt, he  says,  has  been  made  to 
give  even  the  outline  of  its  entire 
history."  We  think  him  very  ca- 
pable of  doing  this,  and  that  the 
American  Annals  contain  a  great 
deal  of  information  ;  many  his- 
torical documents ;  and  a  variety  of 
knowledge,  for  which  the  laborious 
author  deserves  the  thanks  of  the 
friends  of  literature.  Dr.  H.  is 
well  known  as  an  author,  many 
of  his  compositions  are  before  the 
publick,  and  very   few  works  of 


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358 


HOLUEas   AMKEXCAN   ANNALr«^ 


biography,  written  in  tiiis  country, 
can  be  compared  with  his  life  of 
Dr,  Stiles,  The  Annala^  in  our 
opinion,  must  add  to  his  reputation 
as  an  author,  and  the  work  will 
certainly  be  more  generally  useful. 

It  has  been  uniformly  his  aim 
<<  to  trace  &cts,  as  nHich  as  possi- 
ble, to  their  source."  Original 
authors  have  the  preference  ;  and 
this  i»  an  apology  "  for  the  occa* 
sfonal  introduction  of  passages,  that 
will  not  be  generally  understood." 
These  areput  into  marginal  notes, 
and  nny  gratiify  a  number  of  his 
readers.  We  are  likewise  pleas- 
ed with  his  retaining  the  obsolete 
style  and  orthography  of  certain 
writers,  for  by  this-  we  may  know 
more  of  them,  and  their  works* 
Many  think  this  useless,  and  that 
it  only  incumbers-  the  pages ;  but 
certainly  we  want  ^  the  marks  ef 
authentick  documents"" ;  and  why 
riK>uld  not  the  antiquary  be  grati- 
fied Mrith  his  dry  morsel,  as  well 
othera  who  relish  the  luxury  of 
sentiment,  and  are  sometimes 
tery  fastidious  in  their  taste  ? 

We  know  not  a  better  plan  of 
writing  annals,,  than  the  Dr.  has 
chosen,  especially  if  the  book  be 
designed  for  a  library ;  instead  of 
being  once  read  and  thrown  aside. 

His  accuracy  of  research 
would  have  been  unnecessary,  if 
it  were  not  to  be  son&idered  as  a 
book  of  reference,  to  which  we 
resort  when  our  attention  is  dis- 
sipated, and  which  will  be  useful 
to  some  who  have  time  to  read 
but  little,  and  who  can  here  gather 
facts,  that  before  were  scattered 
over  many  volumes. 

We  have  read  with  pleasure 
many  observations  and  lively  re- 
marks in  the  American  Annals, 
especially  in  the  Notes,  which  an 
ordinary  writer  would  never  make, 
even  in  a  book  designed  for  enter- 
tainment    more  than    use  ;  but 


which  men  of  taste  and  sentimeiif 
can  scatter  over  the  driest  parts  of 
learning. 

The  first  volume  comprises  the 
history  of  two  centuries,  i.  e.  from 
the  voyage  of  Columbusj  H92,  to 
the  year  1562. 

The  annals  o€  1691  are  cwi- 
fined  to  New-York,  and  Virginia, 
and  to  a  few  facts.  The  /irovmce  was 
difvided  into  ten  countie9.  Majvr 
Schuyler  with  a  fmrty  of  Mohawkt 
went  over  Lake  Chamfdain  and  at- 
tacked the  French  settlements. 

There  were  some  events,  how- 
ever, very  important  to  Massachu- 
setts, which  took  place  that  year. 
The  cruelty  of  the  Indians  was 
excessive  upon  our  frontiers  ;  and 
the  &mousCharter  of  William  and 
Mary  was  granted.  Perhaps  Dr. 
H.  reserves  the  notice  of  this  to 
the  succeeding  year,  when  it  arriv- 
ed and  was  accepted  by  the  peo- 
ple. As  it  is  one  of  the  very  im- 
portant events  in  the  history  of 
New  £ngland,  we  hope  he  will 
give  some  account  of  the  strug- 
gles of  our  agents  in  England, 
and  the  very  important  change 
that  was  made  in  the  government. 
The^  old  patriots  never  liked  it. 
The  more  moderate,  as  well  as  the 
loyal  party,  always  thought  it  was 
better  thsoi  the  old  one  ;  as  it  pat 
some  cheek  upon  the  phrensy  of 
democracy,  at  the  same  time  that 
it  secured  all  our  essential  rights. 
We  would  recommend  to  the  con* 
sidcratioB  of  this  respectable  in- 
quirer a  curious  extract  in  the 
9th  volume  of  Historical  Collec- 
tions— ^the  conversation  between 
King  WiUiam  and  Dr.  Inci'ease 
Mather. 

It  is  the  earnest  wish  of  all 
who  have  read  this  first  volume 
of  American  Annals,  that  the 
second  may  soon  appear,  and 
that  Dr.  Holmes  may  meet 
with  every  encouragement  in  car-" 


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lIOOfES«   AMEEICAM    AKNAL^S. 


259 


rying  on  a  work  of  such  a  consid- 
"crable  magnitude  among  our  liter- 
ary productions. 

The  first  hundred  pages  relate 
to  the  voyages  which  were  made 
hy  the  Spaniards,  or  other  nations 
of  Europe^eforetheEnglish  adven- 
turers took  any  distinguished  part. 

Another  hundred  pages  describe 
events  previously  to  the  settlement 
of  New  Plymouth. 

Though  modem  writers  are 
<|uoted9SUid  references  are  made  to 
the  .pages  where  events  arc  re- 
corded) it  is  evident,  that  tlie 
author  has  read  the  original  wri- 
ters ;  and  he  also  x^uotes  from 
them  both  in  the  oii^al  and  the 
translation.  Herrera,  Peter  Mut- 
sa,  Diaz,  Casas,  Sec.  as  well  asRob- 
ertson  and  Clavigero. 

Robertson,  so  much  celebrated 
among  the  historians  of  modem 
Europe  on  account  of  his  manly 
and  beautiful  style,  is  not  so  much 
to  be  depended  upon  for  facts,  as 
many  who  appear  in  a  more  .plain 
dress.  He  is  accused  by  Clavigero 
and  otheraqf  great^partiality  ;  and 
his  mind  might  be.abovethat  very 
minute  attention  to  things,  wliich 
an  Annalist  shQi^ld  >make  the  ob- 
ject of  his  care.  ;Br.  H.  says,  in  a 
note  upon  the  discovery  of  Ameiv 
ica,  «<  Some  Spanish  authors 
have  ungenerously  insinuated 
that  Columbus  was  led  to  this 
great  enterprise  by  information  of 
a  country  to  the  West,  with  the 
addition^  advantage  of  a  journal," 
&c.  He  refers  to  Hackluyt  and 
Robertson,  Appendix,  No.  17.  for 
a  confirmation  of  this.  There 
was  no  necessity  of  touching  upon 
this  controversy  in  his  Annals. 
He  had  only  to  mendou  the  voy- 
age of  Columbus.  But  if  lie  said 
any  thing,  he  ought  to  have  said 
more.  Since  the  discussion  of 
Robertson,  the  matter  has  been 
more   disputed    than    everj    and 


not  by  Spaniards  only.  Mr. 
Otto  wrote  a  paper  upon  this 
subject  in  the  second  volume  of 
the  Transactions  of  the  American 
Philosophical  Society,  which  has 
been  reprinted  in^nore  than  one 
country  of  Europe  ;  and  endeav- 
ours to  prove  by  Robertson's  con- 
cessions, as  well  as  additional  evi- 
dences, thatColumbiTs  was  assisted 
very  much  by  Martin  •Behem,who 
sailed  in  1484  from  Portugal,  and 
discovered  Brazil,  and  other  parts 
of  S.  Aincrica. 

"In  1492  the  Chevalier  Be- 
5iem  undertook  a  journey  to  visit 
Nuremberg,  his  native  country. 
He  there  made  a  terrestrial  globe, 
ivbich  is  looked  upon  as  a  master 
piece  for  the  time,  and  which  is 
still  preserved  in  the  library  of 
that  city.  The  outlines  of  his 
discoveries  may  there  be  seen  un- 
der the  name  of  Western  Lands, 
and  from  their  situation  it  cannot 
be  doubted  they  are  the  present 
coasts  of  Brazil,"  8ic. 

"  This  globe  was  made  tlie  same 
year  Columbus  sat  out  on  his  voy- 
age. Therefori'e  it  is  impossible 
that  Behem  could  be  profited  by 
the  discoveries  of  Uiis  naviga- 
tor, who  went  a  more  northerly 
course." 

Though  I>r.  Robtrtson  treats 
the  history  of  Behem  as  the  fic- 
tion of  some  German  authors  ; 
yet  he  acknowledges  that "  Behem 
had  settled  at  Fayal  ;  that  he  was 
the  intimate  /tiend  of  Christopher 
Columbus  ;  and  that  Magellan 
had  a  globe  made  by  Behem,  by 
the  help  of  wliich  he  undertook 
his  voyage  to  the  South  Sea,"  &c. 

He  relates  also  that  in  1492 
he  paid  a  visit  to  his  family  at 
Kurembcrg,  and  left  there  a  map, 
diawn  by  himself,  of  wluch  Dr. 
Forster  procured  a  copy,  and 
which  in  his  opinion  partakes  cf 
the  imperfection  of  cosniograplii- 


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260 


FACTS    AND   OBSERVATIOITft 


cal    knowledge    in    the    fifteenth 
century. 

To  be  continued. 


ART.   22. 

Facta  and  observations  relative  to 
the  Mature  and  origin  of  the  pet' 
tilentialferver^  ivhich  prevailed  in 
this  city,  in  1793,  1797,  and 
1798.  By  the  College  of  Phyd- 
dans  of  PhiladeHihia.  Philadel- 
phia. Thomas  Dobson.  1798. 
%vo.  pfi,  52, 

jldditional  facts  and  observations 
relative  to  the  nature  and  origin 
of  the  pestilential  fever.  By  the 
College  qf  Physicians  of  Philadel^ 
phia,  Philadelphia.  TJDobson. 
1806.     %vo.  pp.99. 

The  first  part  of  this  work  was 
published  in  1798  ; — ^the  second 
within  the  present  yew.  The  two 
are  now  included  under  one  cover, 
and  we  shall  briefly  notice  the  con- 
tents of  each.  It  is  the  desijjn  of 
these  publications  to  prove,  that 
the  yellow  fever  is  a  contagious 
disease,  and  that  it  is  introduced 
into  our  country  by  importation. 
In  our  last  number  we  gave  a  fe*- 
view  of  an  account  of  the  yellow 
fever  at  New  York  the  last  season  ; 
and  we  then  said,  that  this  account 
rendered  the  opinion  of  its  do- 
mestick  origin,  in  that  instance, the 
most  probable.  We  purposely 
avoided  giving  a  general  opinion 
on  this  subject,  and  we  shall  not 
think  ourselves  inconsistent,  if  we 
declare  that  other  accounts  of  the 
same  disease  at  other  times,  or  in 
other  places,  support  an  opinion 
which  may  appear  contradictory. 
We  presume  not  to  determine  the 
character  of  witnesses,  but  we  can 
declare  the  result  of  the  evidence 
which  \b  offered.  Time  may  re- 
concile apparent  inconsistencies, 
or  may  bring  to  light  truths  which 


have  been  concealed.  For  this 
purpose,  time  must  be  employed 
in  careful  and  faithful  observations 
by  those  whose  situation  permits. 
To  us  opportunities  for  such  ob- 
servations are  rare,  and  we  pray 
Heaven  they  may  continue  so. 

It  is  well  known,  that  the  Col- 
lege of  Physicians  of  Philadelphia 
have  from  the  year  1793  profess- 
ed their  belief,that  the  yellow  fever 
was  an  imported  and  contagious 
disease.  Deference  should  be 
paid  to  the  opinion  of  so  respecta- 
ble a  body  ;  but  it  is  the  motto  of 
modem  days  «  nullius  in  verta 
magistri  ;'*  and  those  who  seek 
for  truth  will  investigate  facts, 
rather  than  ask  for  opinions. 

In  the  first  part  of  this  work  we 
have  an  account  of  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  pestilential  fever  into 
Philadelphia  in  1798  by  the  ship 
Deborah.  From  the  details  given 
in  the  notes,  and  particularly  in  a 
letter  from  Dr.  Daniel  De  Benne- 
ville,  it  appears  very  clearly,  that 
in  many  instances  the  disease  could 
be  traced  to  a  connection  with  the 
shipDeborah  ;  and  likewise  that  in 
other  instances  the  persons,  who 
had  such  connection,  appeared  to 
communicate  the  disease  to  their 
friends  and  attendants.  It  is  how- 
ever to  be  remarked,  that  this  ves- 
sel emitted  a  "  disagreeable  and 
ver}-  offensive  stench"  to  a  consid^ 
crable  distance  ;  and  that  sevei-al 
among  the  persons  who  were  sup- 
posed to  derive  their  diseases  from 
this  ship,  of  whom  Dr.  De  Benne- 
ville  himself  was  one,  did  not  go 
even  upon  the  wharf  at  which  she 
laid,  but  were  only  opposite  the 
wharf,  &c.  On  the  other  side, 
however,  it  would  seem  by  the  ac- 
count that  the  disease,  with  which 
those  persons  were  seized,  was  in- 
fectious. 

In  the  second  part  of  this  work 
the  College  declare  their  adher* 


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S6l 


«fiet  to  their  ftirifter  dpinions  ; 
which,  they  say,  have  been  con- 
frmed  by  events  and  retearchet 
subsequent  to  the  former  declara- 
^n  of  those  opinions.  In  this 
part  we  have  some  letters  from 
respectable  physicians  and  others, 
which  deserve  consideration  .-« 
There  are  also  some  ^  minutes  of 
the  sitting  managers  of  the  Penn- 
sylvania Hospital,'*  tending  to 
shew,  by  events  in  that  hospital, 
that  the  yellow-fever  is  an  infec- 
tious, if  not  a  contagious  disease. 

There  follow  letters  from  Dr.C. 
Wistar,andDr.G.Bensell.  They 
relate  *<  facts  tending  to  prove  the 
conUgious  nature  of  the  yellow- 
fever  at  Germantovftt  in  the  year 
1798."  These  arc  such  as  must 
make  the  incredulous  hesitate. 

«  The  history  of  the  origin  and 
progress  of  the  yellow  fever  in 
New  Haven,  1794,"  is  extracted 
from  the  N.  York  Evening  Post, 
and  is  corroborated  by  private  let- 
ters. •  In  ^t,  almost  the  whole 
was  originally  derived  from  Drs. 
Eneas  and  Elijah  Munson.  This 
history  traces  that  disease  to  in- 
fection from  a  chest  of  clothes  im- 
ported from  the  W.  Indies  in  the 
sloop  Iris.  On  this  subject  there 
has  been  a  strange  contradiction 
of  evidence.  From  the  whole  to- 
gether, which  this  volume  contains 
on  the  subject,  it  is  fair  to  con- 
clude, that  the  chest  of  clothes 
was  the  source  of  (Usease. 

We  pass  over  other  things  less 
important  to  notice  «  an  account 
of  the  rise  and  progress  of  the 
fever,  which  prevailed  in  South- 
wark,  during  part  of  the  summer 
and  autumn  of  the  year  1805,  by 
Dr.  W.  Currie."  As  this  account 
is  published  by  the  College  with- 
out comment,  it  has  all  the  weight 
of  their  reputation  in  its  fiavour. 
For  we  ought  to  presume  that  if 
a&y  fellow  of   tKe  College    had 


known  any  thing  which  tended  to 
invalidate  it,  that  would  have  re- 
ceived equal  publicity. 

In  this  account  it  appears,  that 
the  first  instances  of  tho  disease 
were  in  S.  Crisman's  family. 
Three  of  this  family  visited  the 
quarantine  ground  on  July  2Ist ; 
at  which  time  unclean  veasels  were 
lying  there.  One  of  these  vessels 
had  put  two  persons  (Mi  shore 
there  nine  days  before,  both  of 
whom  were  dangerously  ill  of  the 
yellow  fever.  On  the  27th  of 
July  one  of  these  persons  in  Cris- 
man's Esimily,  and  on  the  28th  the 
other  two  were  attacked  with  yellow 
fever.  The  one,  first  seized,  died 
on  the  Sd  of  August  ;  the  others 
recovered.  From  these  three  per- 
sons the  disease  seems  to  have 
been  communicated,  by  intercourse 
more  or  less  direct,  to  others  in 
succession .  If  notliing  is  omitted 
in  this  account,  we  must  conclude 
that  the  disease  originated  from 
the  imprudent  exposure  of  certain 
persons  to  infection  at  the  quaran- 
tine ground. 

We  recommend  this  work  both 
to  physicians  and  to  all  persons, 
who  have  any  concern  in  making 
or  in  executing  quarantine  laws. 
If  our  commerce  is  subjected  to 
embarrassments  from  quarantine, 
for  God's  sake  let  us  have  this 
process  so  perfect  as  to  secure  us 
from  foreign  disease.  It  is  a 
strange  son  of  respect  for  the  lib- 
erties of  the  people,  which  subjects 
merchants  and  mariners  to  great 
pecuniary  and  personal  embarrass- 
ments, and  at  the  same  time  per- 
mits any  idle  boy  to  take  from  us 
the  benefit  of  such  sacrifices. 

Well  aware  that  the  discussion 
of  this  subject  will  not  interest  a 
large  portion  of  readers,  we  omit 
many  remarks,  which  the  occa« 
sion  presents. 


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»dfi 


4i6Txeft  o9  0AAm>  t7oiiTamiM7^.«oiaiMi» 


NOTICES- 

^  Mrthem  Summer^  0r  iraveU 
round  the  Baltic^  through  Den* 
'tnark^  Sweden^  Russia^  PruaiUty 
and  fiart  <^  Germany^  in  the 
year  1804.  By  John  Carr^Eaq^ 
author  qfthe  Stranger  in  France^ 
is^c  ifc.  Bvo.  PivHadclpliia, 
S.  F.  Bradford. 

When  an  "English  traveller 
tells  us  that  he  went  abroad  for 
liealth  and  si^rits  we  very  natup- 
«lly  conclude^  that  a  narrative  of 
his  adventures  will  exhibit  little 
felse  than  a  severe  caricature  of 
•the  various  subjects  of  his  obseiv 
vations.  But  the  most  invidious 
examination  ivill  discover  in  this 
work  very  few  of  those  misrepre- 
sentations which  would  he  expect- 
ed as  the  usual  effect  of  strong  nar 
tional  prejudice  operatin^f  on  the 
impatience  of  all  he^h.  The  au- 
thor travelled  in  the  exerdse  of  a 
singular  indulgence  for  foreign 
peculiarities  which  earlier  travels 
had  so  matured)  that  his  avowed 
and  honourable  predilection  for  hit 
Dative  land  in  no  instance  intrudes 
itself  to  degrade  the  character  of 
any  other.  This  work  presents  to 
the  reader  much  of  that  kind  of 
minute,  local  information,  which  is 
amusing  to  any  one,  and  to  an  ioex- 
|>erienced  tourist  indispensibly  ne- 
cessary, but  which  many  travellers 
disdain  tonotice#nd  stillinore  want 
«kill  to  manage.  The  lonnger  may 
iind  in  it  much  to  wile  away  an 
idle  hour  with,  and,  if  his  heart  has 
not  been  cankered  and  corroded, 
and  Ms  mind  unnerved  by  sloth, 
will  feel  himself  quickened  into 
something  like  life,  by  some  well 
wrought  scenes  of  woe,  drawn 
from  history,  and  several  striking 
instances  oi'  the  mutability  of  for- 


tune. To  the  panM&tickit  offas 
no  gorgeous  displays  of  sentiment, 
and  indeed  nothing  but  fine  d^ 
scriptions  of  the  wild  and  pictur- 
esque. And  a  potitical  theorist 
would  probably  be  disappointed  in 
not  finding  the  order  and  unifoi^ni- 
ity  of  the  work  interrupted  and 
disfigured  by  the  introduction  of 
.dry  and  useless  calculations.  The 
only  strange  and  unusual  trait 
which  distinguishes  this  work,  is, 
that  we  may  ^lean  from  it  more 
knowledge  of  individual  and  ntt- 
tional  character,  and  more  topo- 
graphical information  tlian  gazet- 
teers or  geographical  compilations 
generally  afford.  If  there  is  any 
fault  sufficiently  great  to  he  notic- 
ed, it  is,  that  his  descriptions  of 
works  of  art  are  sometimes  too  in- 
complete to  gratify  m  connoisseur, 
and  not  always  clear  to  one  who  is 
not.  Here  his  penods  are  some- 
times prolonged,  till  they  become^ 
what  they  generally  are  not,  ol>> 
scure  and  confused* 


TJie  Sha4e  of  Plate  ;  or^a  defenct 
qf  religion^  morality^  and  govemr 
fnent,  A  poem  in  four  fiarff 
By  David  Hitchcock,  To  which 
t#  prefixed^  a  sketch  of  the  aur 
thor*a  iife,  Hudson,  H.  Cros- 
well.    12mo.  price  25  cents. 

The  Muses,  Uke  most  other  la* 
(ties,  have  loi^  had  the  reputation 
of  being  somewhat  capricious  in 
the  distribution  of  their  favours, 
and  9nce  their  favouiites  join  in 
the  accusation,  we  are  joompelled 
to  believe  that  it  must  be  just.  I^ 
however,  they  were  formerly  caj; 
pridoosf  they  have  of  late  become 
lawless.  The  inspiration  of  poe- 
try which  was  formerly  reserved 
for  those  minds,  in  which  refine- 
ment and  feeling  had  been  nour* 
iahed  by  solitary  thought  and  uar 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


HOTICE  OF  TKB  SHADE  Of  PtAtO,  A  ?0£M. 


86| 


kfokeD  study,  has  of  bte  been  felt 
even  at  the  work  bench,  and  the 
plough.  What  mysterious  con- 
nexion, what  secret  analogy  there 
is  between  stitching  shoes  and 
making  verses,  ive  are  at  a  loss  to 
discover  ;  but  certain  it  is,  that  the 
cobler's  stall  has  lately  been  re- 
markably fruitful  of  poets.  Our 
ewn  country  is  not  without  her 
claims  to  a  share  in  the  honour 
which  England  m^  assume  fr«m 
this  fecundity  in  "  self-taught 
bards  \^  and  Mr.  Hitchcock,  the 
author  of  the  book,  whose  title  we 
have  just  quoted,  is  to  be  the  sup- 
porter of  our  renown.  Our  bard> 
we  must  acknowledge,  is  yet  un- 
fledged, and  indeed  has  scarcely 
broken  his  shell ;  but  we  doubt  not 
that  if  he  should  be  warmed  by  the 
incubation  of  some  4^merican  Ca- 
pel  Loftt,  he  will  hereafter  rise  on 
as  strong  a  wing,  and  sustain  as 
iarbg  a  flight  as  either  of  the 
Bloomfields. 

We  have  the  following  account 
of  Mr.  Hitchcock  prefixed  to  the 
volume. 

David  Hitchcock,  th«  author  of  ^  the 
fotlowing  poem,  was  born  at  Bethlem, 
county  of  Litchfield,  (late  of  Connecti- 
cut,  io  the  year  1773.  Hi«  father,  who 
was  an  iKjneft  and  induflrlous  Hioemaker, 
after  being  reduced  by  a  feries  of  mi«for- 
tunes,  to  the  lowef^  ftate  of  poverty  and 
wretchedoeft,  died  -in  the  year  1790  ; 
leaving  fix  children,  of  whom  our  author 
was  the  eldefl,  and  a  weakly  and  bereav- 
ed widow,  dependent  upon  the  world 
for  prote^on  and  fupport.  His  inabili- 
ty to  educate  his  children  will  readily  be 
perceived ;  but  as  the  eldeO  difcovercd 
an  early  difpoHtion  to  learn,  he  fpatvd 
no  pains  to  gratify  it,  both  by  inftnidb'ng 
him  and  fending  him  to  fchool,  (when 
want  of  money  or  cloathing  did  not  pre- 
vent) from  the  fifth  to  the  thirteenth  year 
•f  his  age.  By  thefe  fmall  materials  our 
author  acquired  enough  of  the  rudimentt 
of  learning  to  enable  him  to  make  fur- 
ther improvements  by  his  own  applica- 
tion, at  fubfequent  periods  of  his  life. 
Some  of  hU  firft  productions  were  para- 


phrafes  on  the  thirty-ninth  Pialm,  thr 
latter  part  of  the  firft  chapter  of  JLuke, 
and  others  of  a  ferious  complexion. 
Thefe  he  compofed  principally  i»  the 
night,  white  watching  whh  his  father  ia 
his  lad  ikkneSi. 

In  the  26th  year  of  his  age  he  married  ; 
and  though  he  may  be  ground  more  cloie 
by  penary  on  this  account,  (Kit  ht  en- 
joys peacf  and  contentment,  and  has  the 
addition  of  three  cl^ldreo  to  his  family, 
upon  which  he  deats  alraoft  as  much  aa 
the  epulent  do  upon  their  riches. 

Such  has  bece  the  origin  and  progreA 
(to  the  thirty-fiecond  year  of  his  age)  of 
a  man,  who  ibruggUng  under  all  the  ^\U 
adrantages  of  want  of  education,  indi- 
gence, obfcurity,  and  the  contumely  of 
the  wortd,  has  produced,  by  the  aftoo- 
iflking  e^rts  of  his  genius,  the  following 
Poem,  belides  a  number  of  imaUer  piece» 
of  a  facirical  oalk 

It  cannot  be  expected  that  we 
should  undertake  either  a  criticism 
or  analysis  of  this  production.  It 
is  an  essay,  in  eight-syllable  metre, 
on  Religion,  Politicks,  and  Morals^ 
which  the  author  put  into  the 
mouth  of  Plato  f  and,  though  his 
style  is  hardly  such  as  the  Gods 
would  adopt,  if  they  should  visit  the 
earth,  yet  as  every  man  possesses 
some  rank  in  intellectual  dignity, 
whose  mind  is  superiour  to  his  cir- 
cumstances,this  writer's  merit  must 
be  admitted,and  his  poetry  endured. 

The  author  has  a  ri^ht  to  one 
extract. 

While  Phoebus  from  the  human  race 
Hid  the  bright  fplendour  of  hi^  face. 
And  from  the  feat  of  darkncfs  hurPd 
A  fable  mantle  o*cr  the  world  : 
While  men  from  toil,  repofe  obtain'd. 
And  univerfal  fileace  reigned  ; 
The  ghoft  of  an  immortal  foge. 
Who  flourifli'd  in  the  Grecian  age. 
Sudden  into  my  prefence  broke. 
And  thus  the  radiant  viiion  fpoke  t— 

Stranger,  forbear,  be  not  difmay'd  ; 
Fm  Plato's  once  departed  £hade;  • 
Who  from  cekftial  fpheres  recede, 
The  righteous  caufe  of  heaven  to  plead  ^ 
And  clear  iu  juOice,  truth,  and  grace 
From  the  afperfions  of  your  race. 

O'er  earth,  where*er  a  God  is  known. 
Mankind,  their  deftiny  bemoan  i 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


264 


MONTHLt   GATALOGtJE. 


They  all  ibmfe  fpedous  pretext  {nrnt. 
To  tax  kiad  Providence  with  bUme  ; 
Each  thiuk  the  Deity  they  ferve, 
Ch;iflifes  more  than  they  deferve ; 
And  that  their  fuflferings  here  beloWy 
Are  one  dcfpotick  fcene  of  woe. 
In  ChrilUan  land,  where  gofpel  light 
Illumes  the  intelledkual  light. 
Oft  have  1  heard  your  race  repine. 
That  they're  abus'd  by  power  divine  $ 
That  theyVe  deprived  of  happinefs, 
Becaufe  their  parents  did  amifs  : 
Tlut  their  exigence  here  below 
1$  but  a  pilgrimage  of  wpe. 
For  which  the  haplelt  race  of  mtn 
Are  fubje<Sb  to  difeafe,  and  pain  ; 
And  when  their  days  on  earth  are  paA» 
Mult  feel  the  pangs  of  death  at  lall : 
That  Unce  the  firft  unrighteous  deed, 
Mankind  through  every  age  muft  bleed ; 
And  be  dandefUnely  devour'd 
By  famine,  peflilence  and  fword  : 
That  man,  had  it  not  been  for  this. 
Had  reveird  in  eternal  blifs  ; 
And  free  from  hcknefs,  death,  or  paio. 
Would  now  in  paradife  remain ; 
That  lince  their  lire  was  thus  derang*d. 
The  laws  of  nature  have  been  chang'd  ; 
And  counterwork  their  priftine  plan. 
To  fcourge  the  feeble  race  of  man ; 
Whence  they're  to  every  woe  bctray'd. , 
For  crimes  which  they  could  not  evade : 
Oft  they  enquire  the  caufe  they've  given. 
Thus  to  be  made  the  fport  of  heaven  ; 
And  why  its  vengeance  (hould  aflail 
A  race  fo  impotent  and  frail. 


^  sketch  of  the  geogr&fihjf  mi 
firesent  state  of  the  united  Urri" 
tones  qf  J^fbrth  AfRerica  ;  iq 
which  is  addedy  a  list  qf  the  wv- 
tral  nations  a?id  tribes  qflmUam 
in  Canada  and  the  United  States^ 
isTc.  irtc.  By  B.  Davies,  Phi- 
ladelphia,  A.  Bartram. 

The  object  of  this  little  work  is 
to  give  a  bird's-eye  view  of  the  ge- 
ography ^sUtistickB^  £cc.  of  the  Uni- 
ted Sutes  of  America.  In  the  fol- 
lowing extract  we  have  the  design 
of  the  author. 

This  compend,  in  whvch  nothing 
more  than  a  iketch  can  be  given  of  the 
geography,  and  exilHng  flate  of  the  uoi- 
t«d  territoriet,  il  divicM  into  two  parti : 
the  firft  c«nuins  a  lenertU  account  of  die 
foils,  climates,  winds,  mountains,  lakes, 
rivers,  bays,  capes,  mines,  and  minoib; 
and  the  lecoad,  confilHng  of  dgfatccs 
geographical  and  Aatiftical  tables,  com- 
prifes  a  brief  view  of  the  ettent  and 
population  of  the  whole  empire,  as  wcA 
as  of  the  individual  ftates,  their  trade  aad 
ibipping,  conftitutions  and  military  force, 
revenues  and  expenditures. 

As  far  as  we  have  ezaminedy 
the  work  appears  accurate,  and  will 
.  be  found  particularly  useful  to  a 
traveller  through  the  country. 


MONTHLY    CATALOGUE 

Of  New  Publications  in  the   U.  States,  for  Mav,  ISOfi. 

Sunt  bona,  sunt  qusdam  medSocrU,  suet  malt  plan. —MART. 


NEW   WOlKt. 

Trial  of  Samuel  Chafe,  an  aflbciatc  jof- 
ticeofthe  fupreme  court  of  the  United 
States,  impeached  by  the  houfe  of  repre* 
fentatives,  for  high  crimes  and  mifde- 
me^nors,  before  the  ieoate  of  the  United 
States.  Taken  in  (hort  hand,  by  Samu- 
el H.  Smith  and  Thomas  Lloyd.  In  tvro 
lai^e  o<£Uvo  volumes— > Vol.  S,  in  boards, 
price,  to  fubfcribers,  4  dols.  and  a  half, 
and  to  non-fubfcribers  5  dols.  Waih- 
ington.    &  H.  Smith. 

An  iiviugural  Eflay  on  the  diffirrtot 
theories  thiu  have  beta  advanced  oa  the 


fubje^lof  the  proximate  caufe  of  con- 
ception in  the  human  female.  By  I>»- 
aiel  Newcomb,  A.  fi.  of  Keene,  N.  U. 
member  of  the  Philadelphia  Medical 
Society.  8vo.  pp.  38.  Philadelphia, 
John  H.  Ofwald. 

Twelve  Letters  addrefled  to  Rev.  Sa- 
muel Auftin,  A.  M.  in  which  his  vindt- 
cation  of  partial  waihing  for  Oiriftiio 
Baptifm,  contained  in  Ten  JLetters,  is  re* 
viewed  and  difproved.  By  Daniel  Mer- 
rill, A.M.  paOor  of  the  church  of  Chrift 
in  Sedgwick.  ISmo.  pp.  S»6.  Boftoo* 
Maoning  JtLoriBf- 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


KON-^BLT   CATALOOUS. 


965 


A  new  Msp  of  tb«  United  flutes  of 
Anerica,  tacindiag  part  of  Louifiasau 
Drawn  from  the  lateft  aucbori(i«6  ;  re* 
vifed  aod  corre<3ed  by  Ofgood  Carhoo, 
S£il.  teacher  of  matbenaticks  in  Bofton. 
6doU.  in  (heets  to  fubfcriben.  Bofton. 
John  Sullivan  jun. 

A  Speech,  delirered  in  congrtfi,  on 
the  15th  April,  1B06.  While  the  houfe, 
in  committee  of  the  wholei  were  difcuiT- 
ing  the  bill  for  forti^og  the  ports  and 
htf  boors  of  the  United  States.  By  Jo- 
£ah  Qoioc^,  £fq.  member  of  congrels 
from  Maflachufetts.  8vo.  Bodon,  prin- 
ted by  Rttflell  3t  Cutler.    It06. 

Eaffat  Oifcoorfes  on  BapttliD.  ISmo. 
pp.  I5&    Bofton.  D.  CarliOe. 

A  diicourie  delivered  in  trinity  church, 
in  Newport,  on  thurfday  27th  Novem* 
ber,  1805.  an  appointed  day  of  publick 
thankigiTing  and  praife.  Bj  Theodore 
Dehon,  A.  M.  redbir  of  Trinity  Church. 
Fubli(hed  by  particular  defire.  New- 
portt    a.  I.     1806. 

An  addrefs  on  Mufic,  delivered  to  the 
Ptrft  Bapcift  Singing  Society,  Boftoo,  on 
the  evening  of  the  1 5th  May  inft.  By 
fcrdinaod  Ellis,  A.  M.  Bofton. 

KSW    BOITIONS. 

Volume  I.  part  I  of  The  New  Cyclo- 
pasdia,  or  Univerlal  Dit^onary  of  Aru 
and  Sciences.  To  be  completed  in  SO 
vols,  quarto.  By  Abraham  Rees,  D.  D. 
F.  R.  Sw  Editor  of  the  laft  edition  of 
Chamber's  DidUooary  ;— with  the  al&ft- 
ance  of  enxioent  ^rofe^onal  gentlemen. 
Ifluilrated  with  new  plates,  including 
BUpa,  engraved  for  the  work,  by  fume  of 
the  raoft  diftinruiihed  artifts.  The 
whdie  ifflpyovra  and  adapted  to  this 
country,  by  gentlemen  of  known  abilities, 
>y  whofe  aid  it  will  be  rendered  the^oft 
eofl^>lece  work  of  this  kind  that  has  yet 
appeared.  Price  of  each  half  voL  to  fub- 
fieribers  3  dols.    Philadelphia,  Bradford. 

A'treatife  on  the  Difeafes  of  Child* 
tmxt  3u»d  management  of  lofanu  from  the 
Birth.  By  Michael  Underwood,  M.  D. 
licentiate  in  Midwifery,  of  the  Royal 
College  of  Phyficians  in  JLondon,  8ic.  ice. 
Second  American  from  the  fixtb  Xx>ndon 
odition.    8vo.  pp.270.    Bofton.    D.Weft. 

Reflexions  on  the  Rife  and  Fall  of  the 
fncieotRepublicks^dapted  to  the  prefent 
ftsteof  Great  Britain.  By  Bdward  W. 
Montague,  jun.  iSmapp.  336.  Phjla^ 
delphia.  C  P.  Wayne. 

iir  TBS  raxse. 

'Wklker't  Critical   Pronouncing  Die* 
liooary     of     th«    Ibt^fi/k   l4Maf»8fe» 
Vol.  111.  No.  $.     Sk 


From  the  third  Lotidoo  edition ;  con* 

tainiog  the  laft  improvements  and  correc* 
tions  of  the  author.  1  vol.  Svo.  New 
York»    S.  Staaft}ury  &  co. 

The  2d.  vol.  of  Judge  Cain's  Report* 
New  York,  Riley  8c  Co. 

Powell  on  Devices.  1  vol.  Svo.  New 
York,  Riley  8c  Co. 

Part  3d  of  Cain*s  New  York  Term 
Reports,  which  completes  the  Sd  vol* 
New  York,  Riley  &  Co. 

Elements  of  geometrv,  containing  the 
firft  fix  books  of  £uclid,  with  a  fupple* 
ment  on  th6  quadrature  of  the  circlOf 
and  the  geometry  of  folids.  By  Jehn 
Playfair,  F.  R.  S.  Edin.  profeflbr  of  ma- 
thematicks  in  the  univerdty  of  £din« 
burgh.     Price   2   dols.       Philadelphia. 

A  new  work  entitled  Elenora,  by 
Mifs  Pi  I  kinton.    New  York,  Riley  8t  Co. 

The  Enchanted  Lake,  a  beautiful  po* 
em,  traaflated  from  the  Italian,  by  Rich- 
ard Alfop,  Efq.  New  York,  Riley  8c  Co. 

A  Portraiture  of  Quakerifm,  taken 
from  a  view  of  the  education  and  difd- 
pline,  fecial  manners,  civil  and  (>olitical 
ecenomy,  religious  principles  and  charac- 
ter of  the  fociety  of  Friendit.  By  Tho- 
mas Darkfon,  A.  M.  author  of  feveral 
effays  on  the  flave  trade.  8  vols.  8vo. 
To  lubfcribers  5  dols  a  fet,  bound  ;  coarfe 
copies  3  dols.     New  York.     Stanfbury, 

Charnock*8  Life  of  Admiral  Nelfon. 
1  vol.  Svo.  New  York,  Riley  8c  Co. 

rREPAftINO   rOR   TMt    FRISS. 

A  celebrated  work  entitled.  The  Civil 
Hiftory  of  Chili,tranflated  from  theltalian 
of  the  abbe  Molina.  S  vols.  Hvob  with 
plaies.    New  York,  Riley  8c  Co. 

IKTCLLIOENCe. 

Briflno  &  Brannan  have  juft  put  tO 
prefs,  and  will  publifli  by  the  firft  of 
June,  a  highly  ioterefting  work,  entitled^ 
**  Memoirs  of  the  Life  and  Writings  of 
Richard  Cumberland,**  with  Anecdotes 
of  many  of  the  principal  characters  during 
his  time.  Wehaveperufed  the  above  work 
with  fenfible  pleafure.  In  point  of  in- 
tereft  it  is  little  inferior  to  Bofwelfs  Life 
of  Johnfoo,  in  point  of  ftylc  it  is  very  fsr 
above  it.  In  i^'uing  this  edition,  Meflrs. 
Brilban  and  BtannLO  will  make  a  valua- 
ble prefent  to  the  American  public,  and 
we  have  no  doubt  will  find  thcmfelves 
haodfomely  remunerated.  We  know 
not  the  work  of  a  late  date  which  we 
think  will  bcfo  popVilar. — NT.£v.  Pofij 

David  Hitchcock, author  of  the  "*  Shade 
of  Plato,"  and  the  •♦  Knight  and  Quack," 
19  ptepaiii;^  Aoatb^  wont  Iw  tht  pr^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


:66 


3fn.  AiTAMSs  iTctxu  ON   i}fy  nitt. 


STATEMENT  OV  DISEASES, 
From  tbc  *20tb  of  April  f  tl:  tKV*  •/  May. 

Tnc  weather  during  the  latter  part  of 
April  wa4)^eiieralty  cold  and  the  windt 
from  the  no  th-caft.  They  haver  bought 
us  but  little  of  t  lie  vernal  mHduef* ;  for  a^ 
t1\ouj;l\  the  iky'  has  fearcc  bc^ir  covered 
with  A  cloud,  yet  chilling  brec7.et  from 
tlie  eaft  hnve  reigned  alnuift  tniinterupt- 
eiity.  'I'he  mouth,  on  the  whole,  has 
bepn  remarkable  for  its  coolnefs  and  dry- 
ncf^. 

Pneumonic  inflammation  ha«  been 
quite  a  common  difeafe,  during  the  pad 
month.  In  many  cafes  the  attack  has 
been  violent  ;  biit  bassoon  yeildcd  to  the 
vigoroui  application  of  rtnitdies,  and 
tvifhourmuch  hfs  of  blooJ,  As  far  as  oar 
ohicrvations-and  information  relative  to 
this  difeafe  have  extended,  the  treatment 


of  It,  during  the  pad  fcafon',  has  Been  te** 
ry  fuccefsfull,  and  the  lancet  hacr  been 
rather  unfrequentlr  cmplored.  Nu- 
merous rhenmttic  anre<!^ions  have  apptfar^ 
ed  nhis  month.  Fever  has  been  very 
comroan,  cli)ectaHv  among  children. 
The  invafion  of  thii  difeafe  has  beeir 
gtneraHy  fcrdden  aild  fevere,  but  ofihort 
duratiort.  Thofrf  chronic  aflfetSiion*  of 
the  lung.f.wMch  have  e\ifKed  fome  time, 
ha^'e  been  mtich  aggravated  during  ihb 
month*,  and^  new  one*  have  appeju-ed. 

^altpox  has  again  (liown  iifelf ;  and  in 
rhe  centre  of  tlie  moft  populous  part  of 
the  town.  The  early  removal  of  the  pji- 
tient  prevented  the  infection  being  com- 
municated for  this  time.  Vaccination  ia 
very  widely  difiRifed  through  the  town, 
Starcehr  have  there  ever  exifted  fo  many 
cafe*  at  one  time,  at  at  prefetit. 


Wc  cannot  d«ny  ouraelV€&  the  [Measure  of  jrwertinR  thff  follo>ktrtg  i|'e«ch,  whicit  ha»  never 

been  pnhunico,  aitlu)tigh  it»  leiigtli  compel''  iit  to  cxchidc  a  part  of  uur  tuiial  colleetkm.    As  the 

■  Mi»^cct  doc»  not  re«pccr  any  looal  aiti)  ic»nporary  miotlon  of  party  politicks,  wc  do  not  by  \t% 
ittiicnion  depart  from  our  principle  of  ever  Intrr'nclunf  on  the  province-  of  ibe  gaacttes.  The 
d<epiy  learned  and  profound  invc<ti^4rion:>  of  t^^•  liberal  ard  acojoiplifbcd  scholar  will  bc  a^ 
prcc  ubed  by  all  who  are  qualified  to  jcd^c. 

MR.  ADAMS'S  SPEECW 

On  tfie  Hill  to  /irrnnr  the  ahtse  of  the  lirivii-grft  and  ihiTThinitiea  en^- 
j'jycil  I'y  Jorcitpi  m/iU6tirs  wfthin  thf  United  States, 


THE  BIIX, 

RE  it  enafted,  &c.  Tint  from  and"  affer  the 
pMlfage  of  ihi-i  ad,  if  any  foreign  ambatfatlur, 
njlniftcf,  or  other  perf 'rt,  entltkd  to  enjoy"  within 
die  U.  S.  the  privileges  and  immunities  df  a 
foreign  miniitcr,  ihicll  commit  any  vidation of 
the  municipal  Uwif^  which,  if  committed  bv  a 
perrmi  wTienabte  to  rtie  ordinary  judicLil  aurhori* 
ty  uf  the  {dace,  where  Ihch  am^^lladcr,  minlftcr, 
or  other  perfon,  miiy  l>c  at  t  he  time  of  commit- 
ting fuch  offence,  wi?uld  '.>e  Indictalde  by  a  Ktand 
i  try,  and  ptinithable  by  death,-  by  corporaipun- 
i.H'ucnt,«r  by  impriibnmcnt  or  oonhnmoritto 
Mhmir,  the  prcfidctit  of  the  U  8.  upon  apj>llca- 
tlon  made  ta  hinn  by  the  executive  authority  of 
♦lie  ftate  or  territory  witerc  fuch  otTencc may  bc 
tommlted.  or  upon  tifc  cotnplaint  ro  hl-n  of  anv 
^cti6n  Injured  or  ag,^vtd  by  ftich  ofCenee  to' 
committed,  and  uporr proof  «)f  tlie  f^cbt,  latiiXtc- 
tory  to  the  faid  prc'Jdcnt,  »>clnK  fumilhed  to  him 
in  fbppoft  of  fuch  application  of  complaint,' 
fttall  lie,  and  horeb)iti»  authnrifed  to  demand  of 
the  fovereign  of  the  faid  offeiidhig  ambaiTador, 
tninlftcr,  of  other*perfon,  juHicc  upon  the  offend. 
*cr,  and  reparation  tti  any  peffooor  Dcrfotwrhits 
liijured  or  aeerievcd  i  and  in  cafe  of  the  refuCsl 
or  nc'^'lcd  of  nie  faid  fovereign  to  comply  with 
fuch  demand  for  Jurtioe  and  reparation,  tlie  pre* 
fident  of  the  U.  8. >  hereby  further  auihorifcd  to 
onier  Aich  ainhaOailor,  minlitcr,  or  other  pcrfon 
to  offendin];,  t*  depart  frnm  the  U.  s.  and  the 
territories  thereof  ;  or  to  And  hitn  liome  to  hit 
foverdgn,  accordiug  to  the  aegravation  of  the 
offence,  and  at  hb  the  faid  prendcnt*i  difcrttinn. 
(»ec.  a.  That  from  and  aftertbt  patf  ige  of  this 
a^l,  if  any  fiud;;n  ambaiTador,  mlnifter,  or  other 
pcrfon  entltlU  to  enjoy  within- the  U  S  the  prf- 
vileges  and  immunities  of  a  tordf^n  min  liter,  (hall 
wltmn  the  i:.  8.  or  the  tcititonet  thereof  com- 
mit any  aA  orhoftUity  or  enter  into  any  confpl- 
taoy  afi^iailrUte  Koverameot  j0f  the  U.  IK  or  O^att 


prrfonally  fnOilt  or  treat  with  dlfrcfped  the  Pre- 
Ifilent  of  the  U.  8.  for  the  time  belig,  the  faid 
Pri  fident  ihallb^,  and  U  hereby  authorifed, at  hi» 
dtkrctinn,  to  cr.lcr  the  faid  ambaaador,  ndniflcr 
or  other  pcrfon  fo  ofTendhip,  to  withdraw  from 
the  feat  of  gov^emtnent  and  the  territory  oT  C<d- 
umbi.\ ,  or  to  depait  from  the  U.  8.  and  the  terri- 
tories thereof ;  and  in  cafe  of  refufal  or  neRlc^ 
bv  (Uch  amhafTadOr,  minitter,  or  othet  petlbnao 
afore  faid,  to  Obey  l\ich  order  within  a  reaionabie 
time,  of  which  the  faid  prefldent  (hall Judge,  tbc 
fait!  prcfident  ihall  bc,  and  b  hereby  fnrtner  au- 
thorifed to  ftDd  the  laid  ambaflador,  miaiilcrt  or 
other  pcrfon  as  aforcfatd,  home  to  his  toretdgn  i 
and  In  either  cnfe  to  demand  of  the  faU  fbver- 
el||ii,ttirpaoilk'oentof  ftich  ofiendiae  ambalb- 
d»r,  minitler,  or  other  perlon  ai  aforcfaM*  accord- 
inK  to  the  nanirc  and  apvravatlon  of  the  OtTcilce  ; 
aad  confoniiablc  to  the  lawX  of  nationa. 

sec.  \  Thatin  every  cafe,  when  the  prcfidcnt 
of  the  U.  8.  Ihall,  under  the  authority  of  thia  ad. 
order  any  foreign  ambamidor,  mlnifter,  or  other 
pe^on  entitled  lo  enjoyt  wlihiii  the  u.  8.  the  pri- 
vileges and  immui^itlei  of  a  f  jrcign  minitter,  to 
wtrbdraw  from  the  (bat  of  gOTenftnent  an4  the 
tcnitory  of  Coiumb^  \.o€*  to  depart  from  the 
U.  8.  and  the  territpria  thereof ;  or  (hall  fend  any 
fl^h  offendlAr  ambtflTador,  minMer,  or  other  per- 
Uti  as  aftrefaid,  home  to  his  tovereign  the  MA 
prefident  lhall,ln|the  order  eiven  to  fuch  amballa  - 
dor,  mlnifter,  or  other  perion  as  aforcfkid,  to  de-r 
part,  or  to  vrithdraw,  fignlff  the  oficnee  upotf 
which  fuch  order  Ihall  b«  f&iiRded  :  and  ikuMMt- 
fieu  to  the  fovereign  of  the  fitkl  ambafTador,  mio- 
nier,  or  other  oerfon  at  aforcfald,  the  reafb^  gbr 
which  fuch  order  IhaU  have  boes  gWea»  or  ttn 
which  the  faid  ambalTador,  minttler,  or  other  per- 
ton  as  aforefald,  (bail  be  fent  home  i  particularly 
fpecifying  that  fkfdi  proceediqgf  are  not  on  ac- 
count of  any  natioiialdiflercnccs,  but  nil  att— ill 
of  the  perlbnal  mifconduft  of  toch  •f^fr^fTiitft'. 
Aimitcr,  or  othtr  pcrfta  M  atorefjOA* 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


.flON-CSaKINO    FOA£|>&K   IflXISTERS,. 


per 


Sttsyr.if.  PF  THE  United  Stai-es.. 
Monday^  March  3,  1806. 

MR.  ADAMS— 

There  are  two  points  of  view, 
Mr.  President,  iu  which  it  appears 
to  me  to  be  important  that  the 
pravisions  of  this  UiH  should  l>c 
considered  :  The  joue,  as  they  rer 
Jate  to  t/ie  laws  of  nations  ;  a^ulthj; 
iDther,  as  they  regard  t^e  cojiatitu- 
lion  of  Xhe  jjniied  States.  From 
J>oth  these  sources  have  arisen  i^^^ 
.ducements,  combining  to  produce 
jconvictlon  upon  my  mind  yf  the 
propriety,  andmdeed  tlic  necessity 
jof  some  measure,  ;sin4lar  in  prin- 
xiple  to  that  which  I  have  had  the 
iionour  to  propose.  I  shal,|  take 
the  liberty  to  state  them  in  their 
^arns  ;  endeavouring  to  keep  them 
as  distinct  frpo)  each  other,  as  the 
great  and  obvious  diifcrence  of 
their  character  reqwires,  and  thajt 
their  combination  oi>  this  occasioa 
may  appear  in  the  striking  light, 
Fliich  may  render  it  the  most  e£- 
fectual. 

By  tlie  lavs  of  nations  a  foreign 
pimister  is  entitled,  not  barely  tp 
the  general  security  and  protection 
which  the  laws  of  every  civilized 
people  extend  to  the  subjects  of 
other  patipns  residing  among 
them  :  he  Is  indujged  with  many 
privileges  of  a  high  and  uncommon 
nature  ;  with  many  exemptions 
from  the  operation  of  the  laws  of 
the  country  where  he  resides,and  a- 
mong  others  with  a  genw*al  exemp- 
tion from  th^  juri^ctlonof  thejur 
dicial  courts,  both  civil  aofl  crimiiir 
al.  This  tmmanity  is,  in  respect  to 
the  criminal  jurisdiction,  without 
limitation  ;  and  ap  ambassador)  tho' 
guilty  of  the  n^o^t  aggravated  crimes 
which  the  heart  of  maa  can  con*- 
ceive,  or  hit  hand  commit^  cannot 
be  punished  for  them  by  the  tribu- 
nals of  the  sovereign  with  whom 
J|C  fesides.    Should  he   conispire 


.the  dest^ction  of  the  constitution 
or  government  of  the  state,  no  jury 
of  his  peers  can  there  convict  him 
of  treason.  Should  he  point  the 
dagger  of  assassination  to  the  heart 
of  a  citizen,  he  cannot  be  (Kit  to 
plead  for  the  crime  of  murder^ 
In  these  respects  he  is  considered 
iis  the  suliject  not  of  the  state  to 
jw  hich  hje  is  sent,  but  of  the  state 
which  atiJit  Ivm,  and  the  only  punp ' 
ishment  which  can  be  inflicted  on 
Jiis  crimes  is  tft  to  liie  justice  of 
Jijs  master.. " 

In  a  repnblicain  govjernment, 
Jike  that  under  which  we  Ivavc  thp 
happiness  to  live,  this  exemption 
is  not  enjoyed  by  any  iudividuaJ 
x>f  the  nation  itself,  however  exalt- 
ed  in  rank  or  station.  It  is  our 
pride  and  glory  that  all  are  equal 
in  the  eye3  of  the  law  :  that,  how- 
ever adorned  wi|:h  dignity,  or  arm- 
ed with  power,  np  roan,  owing  al- 
legiance to  the  majesty  of  the 
nation,  can  skreen  himself  from 
the  vindictive  arm  of  her  justice  ; 
yet  even  the  nations  whose  inter- 
nal constitutions  are  founded  upon 
this  virtuous  and  honourable  prin- 
ciple of  equal  and  universal  rigbtS) 
have  like  all  the  rest  submitted  to 
this  great  and  extraordinary  ex^ 
ception.  In  order  to  account  for 
so  singular  a  deviation  froip  prin^ 
ciplcs  In  every  oth^sr  respect  ^ 
deemed  of  the  highest  moment 
and  of  the  most  uiuv^r^al  appUca^* 
tjon,  we  must  enquire  into  the 
reaiona  which  have  induced  all  the 
nations  of  the  civilized  world  to  this 
broad  departure  from  the  fundament 
tal  maxims  of  their  government. 

The  most  eminent  writers  on 
the  laws  ef  nations  have  at  differ- 
ent times  as§ignc4  various  reasons 
fox  this  phenojnenan  in  politicks 
and  morals.  It  has  sometimes 
been  said  to  rest  upon  JictiouB  of 
law.  The  reasoning  has  been 
thus  ;  every  sovereign  prince  if 
independent  of  al)  others  and  i^ 


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I6i 


Mk.  AB4Mt'8  t^BBCtt  M  tlill  Witt 


sucht  eamKH,  even  when  person- 
ally  withb  the  territories  of  anoth* 
er,  be  amenable  to  his  jurisdiction. 
An  ambassador  re/iresenta  the  fier^ 
Mon  of  his  master,  and  therefore 
xnust  enjoy  the  same  immunities : 
but  this  reasoning  cannot  be  sati&> 
fectory  ;  for  in  the  first  placej  a 
foreign  misister  does  not  necessa- 
rily represent  the  person  of  his 
master  ;  he  represents  him'  only 
in  his  affairs  ;  and  besides  repre- 
senting him>  he  has  a  pernonal  ex* 
istence  of  /ih  ovm^  altogether  dis- 
tinct from  his  representative  char- 
acter, jjnd  for  which,  on  the  prin- 
ciples of  common  sense,  he  ought, 
like  every  other  individual,  to  be 
responsible  ;  at  other  times  anoth^- 
er  fiction  of  law  has  been  aliedged, 
in  this  manner  ;  the  foreign  min*" 
ister  is  not  the  subject  of  the  state 
to  which  h^  is  sent,  but  of  his  own 
sovereign.  He  is  therefore,  to  be 
considered  as  still  residing  ttnVAzn 
the  terrttorica  of  his  master,  and 
not  in  those  of  the  prince  to  whom 
he  IS  accredited.  But  this  fiction, 
like  the  other,  forgets  the/kertono/ 
existence  of  the  miniater,^  It  is 
dangerous  at  all  times  to  derive 
important  practical  consequences 
from  fictions  of  law,  in  direct  op- 
posiiion  to  the  fact.  If  the  prin- 
ciple of  personal  representation, 
or  that  of  exterritoriality,  annexed 
to  the  character  of  a  foreign  min- 
ister be  admitted  at  all,  it  can  in 
sound  argument  apply  only  to  his 

•  It  {9  manifed,  that  if  ethrrUvtMBtf 
yttfe  to  be  alfow^  to  miniflten  10  tht 
who^  extent  of  the  tenfi,  it  woul4  entitle 
them  to  many  right*  which  thty  certain- 
|]r  hare  ooc  i  on  the  other  hand  the  pri- 
vilegfes  allowed  them  extend  far  beyond 
what  the  ifniverfal  law  of  nations  pre- 
fcihes  in  their  favour  on  tbii  f^oudd. 
Both  thefe  portions  will  be  proved  here- 
after, and  alfo  that  thh  cxtrnnrly  loiji-jtttim 
yixierritoriality  i*  not  always  fuificient 
"0  af<;ertain  the  rights  to  which  a  minif- 
er  may  pretend.  Mar  tent*  Summary 
tftk9  M^dfra  La-ui  of  Nations,  Btei  7|  ^|, 


1; 


eScial  conduct ;  to  his  ictt  in  thi 
capacity  of  a  miniat€r,and  not  to  his 
private  and  individual  affairs.  The 
minister  can  represent  the /Person 
of  the  prince,  no  otherwise  than 
as  any  agent  or  factor  represents 
the  person  of  his  principal ;  and 
it  would  be  an  ill  compliment  tOr« 
sovereign  prince,  to  consider  him 
as  personally  represented  by  liia 
minister  in  the  commission  of  an 
atrocious  crime.  Another  objec- 
tion against  this  wide-encroaching 
inference  from  the  doctrine  o£fier^ 
sonal  re/iretentationis^ihAi  it  is  suit- 
able only  to  monarchies.  The  miQ<- 
Jster  of  a  king  may  be  feigned  to 
represent,  in  ail  respects,  the  per- 
son of  his  master  ;  but  what  fter^ 
Bon  can  be  represented  by  the  am- 
bassador of  a  republick  ?  If  I  am 
answered,  the  moral  person  qf  the 
nation  ;  then  I  reply,  that  can  be 
represented  by  no  individual,  bdng 
itself  a  fiction  in  law,  incapable  of 
committing  any  act,  and  havingno 
corporeal  existence  susceptible  of 
representation. t    I  have  said  thus 

f  The  reprefentati^  chara^ler  of  the 
asnbaifador  is  the  fign  of  repnefentatioa 
of  the  fovereign  who  (ends,  addrefled  to 
|he  fovertign  who  receives  the  muiifter. 
Ambafladors  being  naturally  the  mmmdatm' 
riti  of  the  prince  by  whom  they  are  feot, 
the  reprefentative  character,  by  the  law 
of  nature,  confifts  in  the  power  Of  tranf* 
a^ag  any  publick  bufinefs  io  the  oams 
and  right  cf  the  ioTereign,by  whom  tbry  . 
are  fent,  with  another  fovereiga  power : 
confequently  by  the  law  of  nature  aa 
Ambaiflador  ir  «•/  as  it  were  the  fame  moral 
ffrfia  as  he  who  fends  him,  fo  as  to  bt 
the  fame  as  if  hit  matter  hirafelf  were 
prefenc  1  nor  is  the  prince  to  whom  he 
iff  fent  bovnd  to  coafider  him  as  hit  •» 
^ual.  And  as  there  is  no  nsceflUy,  either 
for  the  tranfadkioo  of  bulinefa,  or  for  the 
dignity  of  the  fender,  which  may  be  pre- 
ferved  without  k,  of  that  reprefentative 
charaAer  which  confilb  in  the  power  •f 
repreftiKiiig  the  ^ktfim  of  ibt  £mdcr, 
neither  is  the  reprdfenutive  charaAcr^ 
when  ftretched  beyond  the  rules  of  nam- 
ral  law,  any  part  of  the  v»tamtary  law  of 
hatioDi :  9n(l  confequently  If  inttodu^ 


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eoxcKRirtiro  roxsioK  ^xyitTEmt*- 


M» 


tnnch  on  thh  subject,  because  I 
have  heard  in  conversation  these 
legal  fictions  alledged  against  the 
adoption  of  the  bill  on  your  table, 
and  because  they  may  perhaps  be 
urged  against  it  here. 

But  it  is  neither  in  the  fiction  of 
txterritoriaMty^i  nor  in  that  of  peiv 
sonal  representatioi\  that  we  are  to 
seek  for  the  substantial  reason  up- 
on which  the  customary  law  of  na*- 
tions  has  founded  the  extraordina«' 
ry  prinleges  of  ambassadors— It 
b  in  the  nature  of  their  office'^  of 
Xh^T  duties y  and  of  their  nfuaiion^ 

By  their  office^  they  are  intend- 
ed to  be  tHe  mediators  of  peace, 
of  commerce,  and  of  friendship 
between  nations  ;  by  their  duiiesy 
xhey  arc  bound  to  maintain  with 
firmness,  though  in  the  spirit  of 
conciliation,  the  rights,  the  hoiiour, 
and  thfe  interests  of  their  nation, 
even  in  the  midst  of  those  who 
bare  opposing  interests,  who  assert 
conflicting  ngbts,  and  who  are 
guided  by  an  equal  and  adverse 
sense  of  honour  ;  by  their  eitua* 
tum^  they  would,  without  some  ex-> 
traordiaary  provision  in  their  fii^ 
vour,  be  at  the  mercy  of  the  ytrj 
prince  against  whom  they  are  thus 
to  maintain  the  rights,  the  honouri 
and  the  interest  of  their  own.  As 
the  ministers  of  peace  and  friend** 
ship,  their  functions  are  not  only 
of  the  highest  and  most  beneficial 
ufility,  but  of  indispensable  neces- 
sity to  all  nations,  having  any  mu- 
tual intercourse  with  each  other* 

,t»y  v&fit  it  (t  put  of  tbe  ctrftomary  taw; 
if  by  treaty,  pan  of  the  cooTemioaal 
law  of  oatTons,  Wherefbrt  the  eoifimi^ 
ttt  derived  frtnn  tbif  chamber  ref^ieAng 
Amhaffadort,  belaag  neither  to  the  taw 
^nature,  nor  to  the  Tolontary  law  of 
natiooa ;  much  lefs  6d  they  ian^on  the 
^ramitoaa  adcfitioiia  by  which  they  are 
amplified.  Hence  ooMtien  u  boimdto 
acVnoowledge  them«  nnleft  in  confequenca 
tf  viprefii  (Hp«iladoB.  ir«y.  JmJUitmt 
^  lh  iaw  pf  MtOMrt  atd  mtimi*  iW/.  6, 
«6w  19^  $.18412. 


They  arc  the  only  instnifnents 
by  which  the  miseries  of  war  can 
be  averted  when  it  approaches,  or 
terminated  when  it  exists.  It  ia 
by  their  agency  that  the  prejudices 
of  contending  nations  are  to  be  di^ 
sipated,  that  the  violent  and  do- 
structive  passions  of  nations  are  to 
be  appeased  ;  that  men,  as  ^  as 
their  nature  will  admit,  are  to  be 
converted  from  butchers  of  their 
kind,  into  a  band  of  friends  and 
brothers.  It  is  thb  consideratioOf 
Sir,  which,  by  the  common  coo* 
sent  of  mankind,  has  sukrounded 
with  sanctity  the  ofikial  character 
•of  ambassadors.  It  is  this  which 
has  enlarged  their  independency 
to  such  an  immeasurable  extent. 
It  ia  this  which  has  loosed  them 
from  ail  the  customary  ties  which 
bind  together  the  social  compact 
of  common  rights  and  common 
obligations. 

But  immunities  of  a  nature  so 
extraordinary  cannot,  from  the 
nature  of  mankind,  be  frequentlf 
conferred,  without  becoming  lu^ 
hie  to  frequent  abuse*  As  ambavr 
sadors  are  still  beings  subject  to 
the  passions,  the  vices,  and  infirm^ 
ities,<^  man,  "however  exempted 
from  the  danger  of  punishment^ 
they  are  not  exempt  from  the  com* 
mission  of  crimes.  Besides  their 
participation  in  the  imperfectiona 
of  humanity,  they  have  temptar 
tions  and  opportunities  peculiar  to 
themselves,  to  transgressions  of  a 
very  dangerous  description,  and  a 
very  aggravated  character.  While 
the  functions  of  their  office  place  \x\ 
their  hands  the  management  of 
those  great  controversies,  upoii 
which  whole  nations  are  wont  to 
stako  their  existence,  while  their 
•situations  afford  them  the  niean^ 
and  stimulate  them  to  the  employt 
ment  of  the  base  Init  powerful 
weapons  of  fiiction,  of  corrupdoi^ 
and  of  treachery,  their  very  privi% 
leges  and  iminun^4^  poncur  xx\ 


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370 


Ifll.   ADAkS^   sreiXH  099  TRE  BILL 


^sailing  their  integrity,  by  the 
|>Fomise  of  security  even  in  case 
of  defeat  ;  of  impunity  even  after 
detection. 

The  experience  .of  all  ages  and 
^f  every  nation  has  therefore  point- 
<cd  to  the  necessity  of  erecting 
«ome  barrier  against  the  abuse  of 
lof  those  immunities  and  privileges) 
Kith  which  foreign  ministers  have 
at  all  times,  and  every  where,  been 
indulged.  In  some  aggravalcd  in- 
stances the  rulers  of  the  state, 
where  the  crime  was  committed, 
have  boldly  broken  down  the  wall 
of  privilege  under  which  the  guil- 
ty stranger  would  fain  have  shel«- 
tered  himself,  and  in  defiance  of 
4the  laws  of  nations  have  delivered 
up  the  criminal  to  the  tribunals  of 
the  country,  for  trial,  sentence  and 
execution.  At  other  times  the 
popular  indignation,  by  a  process 
still  more  irregular,  has  without 
the  forms  of  law,  wreaked  its  ven- 
geance upon  the  perpetrators  of 
those  crimes,  which  otherwise 
•must  have  remained  unwhipp'd  of 
•justice.  Cases  have  sometimes 
cccurred,  whea  the  principles  of 
«clf  preservation  ukI  defence  have 
justified  the  injuved  government, 
^endangered  in  its  vital  parts,  in 
arresting  the  person  of  such  a 
minister  during  the  crisis  of  dan- 
ger, and  confining  him  under 
guard  until  he  could  with  safety  be 
removed  :  but  the  praaice  which 
the  reason  of  the  case  and  the 
usage  of  nations  has  prescribed  and 
recognized,  is,  according  to  the  ag- 
gravation of  the  offence,  to  order 
the  criminal  to  depart  from  the 
territories,  whose  laws  h%  has  vio- 
lated, or  to  send  him  home,  some- 
times under  custody,  to  his  sover- 
eign, demancting  of  him  that  jus- 
tice, reparation  and  punishment, 
which  tlie  nature  of  the  case  re- 
quires, and  which  he  alone  is  en- 
4t)pd  tp  dispense.     Tliis  power  is 


admitted  by  the  concurr^t  test 
mony  of  all  the  writers  on  the 
laws  of  nations,  and  has  the  sancr 
tion  of  practice  equally  universal. 
It  results  indeed  as  a  consequence 
absolutely  necessary  from  the  iiir 
dependence  of  foreign  ministers 
on  the  judicial  authority,  and  is 
perfectly  reconcileabje  wjth  it. 
As  respects  the  offended  natioD,k 
is  a  measure  of  sclfrdefence,  juslir 
iied  by  the  acknowledged  dcsUttt- 
tjon  of  every  oth^r  remedy.  A» 
respects  the  offending  minister,  it 
is  the  only  me^^  of  remitting  hini 
£oT  trial  and  punishment  to  the  tri- 
bunals whose  jurisdiction  he  canr 
npt  recuse  ;  and  as  respects  hi» 
sovereign,  it  preserves  inviolate 
his  rights,  apd  pt  the  samcum« 
manifests  that  confidence  in  his 
jus^Cf  which  drilized  nations, 
living  in  an>ity,  are  bound  to  place 
in  each  other.* 

•  It  ieemt  it  may  be  laid  on  tbii  fub- 
ie<£l  that  there  is  no  cafi,  in  which  ll^f 
ordinary  tribunals  can  extend  their  ju- 
rifdi(5Hon  over  publick  minifVers;  ani 
this  with  the  more  confidente,  as  I  find  it 
«t  the  opinion  of  Gioiiui.  This  i«  inco» 
telbble  with  regard  txi  copunoo  oiFcocw ; 
pud  as  for  crimes  of  fUtc,  wherein  tlif 
ambafTador  yiolatcs  the  law  of  nations, 
particularly  if  he  attempt  the  life  of  the 
prince  to  whom  he  is  fent,  the  fovereigi 
alone,  or  the  council  of  fbte  in  hit  be* 
half,  can  tak^  cognisance  of  it,  can  arreft 
^he  traitor  in  his  bo^fc,  and  after: 
wards  fend  him  with  the  proofs  to  the 
prince  his  ma(ler  for  punifliment  /f'/f"^ 
fir^i  Amhtjad»r,  ^ml  1,  $.  29. 
.  Princes  fomedmes  oblige  minifters  to 
depart  from  their  dominions,  and  fend 
iheniaW^yiiQI^^^.'^^i^defport.  QoteB 
Elizabeth  cj^ufedDqn  Bernardin  deMeo* 
i]oz^,an^b»iIador  of  Spi^n,  and  the  biihof 
pf  Roff,  an)baflador  from  the  queen  of 
^Scots,  to  be  fliipppd  oE  Louis  2  4th  of 
^^s^lce  fent  under  guard  to  the  frontieri 
of  Savoy  a  nuncio  from  the  pope.  Tb^ 
lung  of  Portugal  difmifled  In  like  manr 
Xier  a  minifter  from  the  pope,  in  1646. 
And  in  1659,  under  cardinial  Mazarii^ 
the  relident  ffpm  theele<aorof  Brandecr 
{>urg  ^as  ordered  to  quit  the  jdiig4<'°t  i 


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CO]»CEilltl«r6    FOREIGN   MINf^TER^^; 


fri 


'  On  these  principles,  thus  equit- 
Mc  add  moderate  in  themselves, 
and  thus  universally  established,  is 
founded  every  provision  of  the  bill 
i)efbre  y6u,  so  far  as  it  inoplicates 
the  law  of  nations.  I  harve  been 
fiilly  aware  that,  although  by  the 
constitution  of  the  Unites  States 
congress  are  authorized  to  define 
and  punish  offences  against  the 
few  of  nations,  yet  this  did  not  im- 
ply a  power  to  innovate  upon  those 
htws.  I  could  not  be  ignorant  that 
the  legislature  of  one  individual, 
in  the  great  community  of  nations 
has  no  right  to  prescribe  rules  of 
conduct  which  can  be  binding  up- 
on all,  and  therefore  in  the  provis- 
ions of  this  bill,  it  was  my  prima- 
ry object  not  to  deviate  one  step 
horn  the  worn  and  beaten  patl\; 
not  to  vary  one  jot  or  one  tittle  from 
the  prescriptions  of  immemorial 
ttsage,  and  unqiiestioned  authority. 
In  consulting  for  this  purpose 
the  writers,  characterized  by  one 
df  our  cywn  statesmen,  in  a  pamph-' 
let  recently  laid  on  our  tables,  as 
^  the  lumiharies  and  oracles  to 
whom     the   appeal    is  generally 

and  afterwaritf  put  ioCo  tire  baftile; 
whence  he  was  taken,  feot  to  Calais  in 
cuftody,  and  there  embarked.  In  1667, 
the  qneen  regent  of  Spain  ord!ered  the 
irchbiihop  of  Embrun,  ambaiTador  of 
Spain,  to  withdraw  ;  and  would  not  fuf- 
fbr  him  to  wait  in  Madrid  for  the  letten 
which  he  ezpe<5Ud  to  receive  by  the 
ird  courier.  All  he  could  obtain  was 
to  ftop  at  Alcala  until  their  arrival ;  and 
there  he  received  thert.  WUpufart^  I  .S«sa 
An  etnlNdrador  ought  to  be  indepen- 
dent of  every  power,  except  that  by 
which  he  is  lent :  and  of  confequcnce 
ought  not  to  be  fubjetft  to  the  mere  mu- 
nicipal laws  of  that  nation,  wherein  he  is 
ix>  exercife  his  futidlions.  If  he  grofsiy 
iffends,  or  makes  an  ill  ufe  of  his  cha* 
rm^^,  he  may  be  fent  home  and  accufed 
before  his  mafter  ;  who  is  bound  either 
U>  do  juftice  upon  him,  or  avow  him- 
£df  the  accomplice  of  his  crimes.  Chrif'- 
Un't   BUeiJhme.    fV.  1.  f.  ^Sti^-^te   atfi 


ihade  by  nations  who  prefer  an  ap" 
peal  to  /at»,  rather  than  to  power,'*' 
I  found  that  they  distinguished  tho 
offences  which  may  be  comtnittedf 
by  foreign  ministers  into  two 
kinds,  *  the  one  against  the  mu*^ 
Hicipal  laws  of  the  Country,  where 
they  reside  ;  ahd  the  other  ag^ainst 
the  government  or  state,  to  which 
they  are  accredited ;  and  that  they 
recoinnnfendcd  a  correspondent 
modification  of  the  manner  inf 
which  they  are  to  be-treated  by  the 
offended  sovereign.  The  first 
section  of  the  bill  therefore  directs 
the  nk>de  of  ti'eatment  towards 
forcij^n  ministers^  guilty  of  Atfinott* 
offences  against  the  municipal 
larwi  :  for  119  to  those  minor  tran^^ 
gressions,  which  are  uatally  left 
unnoticed  by  other  states,  I  have 
thought  no  provision  necessary  for 
them.  The  section  points  out 
the  mode  by  which  Ike  insulted 
state  or  injured  individual  may  ap- 
ply  to  the  chief  magistrate  of  the 
Union  for  redress,  and  by  what 
process  the  president  nvay  obtain 
reparation  from  the  offender's  sov- 
ereign, or,  in  case  of  refusal,  dis- 
miss the  offender  from  the  terri- 
tories of  the  United  States.f 

*  Suppofe  an  ambaffador  guihy  of  ;» 
orime,  deferving  punilhment  in  a  courfe- 
of  ju(Hce ;  ;where  then  is  he  to  be  ac- 
cufed  and  puniflied  ? 

In  this  quedion  we  muft  diflinguiih 
between  two  (brts  of  crimes,  of  which  an 
ambaffador  may  have  been  guilty.  Eith- 
er he  has  fimply  committed  an  ofience,. 
injurious  to  civil  fociety  and  the  publick. 
tvanquillity,  fuch  as  homicide,  adulter]!;^ 
or  alinoft  any  other  of  the  comrnmi  trimerp 
as  they  may  be  termed  ;  or  he  has  tcanit 
greifed  agamft  the  perfon  of  the  fover- 
eign,ov  againft  the  (late»  which  is  ufiiall]^ 
cailtd  Ueajim  or  h^hiity.  BymherJhMk.  JDls 
fof  Ltgat§rum^  tuith  Barhtyrmcs  f^mmtntatry^ 
thap.  17,  $.6. 

f  Should  an  ambaffador  forget  the  du- 
ties of  his  dation,  (honld  he  render  him- 
felf  difagreeable  and  dangerousj  fhrnx 
cabals  and  enterprises,  permcioas  tM  tho 


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VI 


llm.  ADAMS  S   SFBECll  OS   TRl  BILt 


The  stcoad  section  provides  for 
the  case  of  offences  ag^st  th« 
government  or  the  nation.  If  the 
faisult  is  direct  upon  the  president 
of  the  United  States  himself,  it 
authorises  him  at  once  to  discard 
the  offender  ;  if  the  injury  be  a- 
gainst  the  nation  by  any  conspira- 
cyi  or  other  act  of  hosdlity,  it  of- 
fers the  means  of  removing  at 
once  so  dangerous  a  disturber  of 
the  pubiick  tranquillity.  This  al« 
so  yfiW  be  found  exactly  conform* 
able  to  the  directions  in  Vattel.* 

tranquillity  of  the  citisent,  the  (bte,  or 
priace,  to  whom  he  is  feat,  there  are  fev- 
tral  wavs  of  corre^ag  him,  proportion* 
ace  to  the  nature  and  degree  of  hit  fault. 
If  he  maltreats  the  fubjectt  of  the  (late» 
if  he  commits  any  a&  of  iniuftice  or 
▼ioleoce  towards  toem,  the  fubje^  inju-> 
red  are  not  to  feek  redref<i  from  the  com- 
mon magi(h-acy,  the  ambaflador  being 
Independent  of  their  jurifdidlion ;  con- 
feqoently  thofe  magiftrates  cannot  pro- 
ceed directly  againflt  htm.  On  fuch  oc- 
caliont  the  lovereign  is  to  be  applied  to ; 
be  demands  juftice  from  the  amoaiTador^s 
mader,  aod»  in  cafe  of  a  refutal,  may  or- 
der the  infolent  mintf^er  to  quit  his  do- 
■linioas.         ymUd.  JWI  4,  ei,  7,  $.  94. 

*  Should  a  foreign  minifter  offend  the 
prince  himfelf,  be  wanting  in  refpe(5t  to 
him,  and  by  his  intrigues  raife  difhirb- 
ancet  in  the  ftate  and  court,  the  injured 
prince,  from  a  particular  regard  to  the 
Ainider's  mader,  fometimes  requires  that 
1m  ihould  be  recalled ;  or  if  the  fault  be 
more  heinousithe  prince  forbids  him  the 
court,  till  he  receive*  an  anfwer  from  hit 
mailtr  $  but  in  important  cafes  he  pro- 
ieeds  fo  far  as  to  order  him  to  quit  hit 
dominions.  Every  fovereign  has  an  un- 
^eftionable  right  to  proceed  in  thie 
aianner  ;  for,  Ixing  mader  in  his  own 
dominions,  no  foreigner  can  (lay  at  hit 
coon  or  in  his  dominions  without  hit 
permifBon.  And  though  fovereigns  are 
generally  obliged  to  hear  the  overtures 
Of  foreign  powers,  and  to  admit  their 
mtoiften,this  obligation  ceaies  entirely 
with  regard  to  a  minider  who,  being 
bimfelf  wanting  in  the  duties  incumbent 
qa  him  from  his  character,  becomes  dan- 
gerous or  juftly  fufpeded  by  him  to 
whom  be  is  to  coneonly  as  a  minider  of 
Bcacf,    feltot  Aal4,«*.7,$.e5,96. 


The  third  section  brings  me  to 
the  consideration  of  the  relation 
which  tlie.biii  bears  to  the  cotftU 
tution  of  tlie  United  States.  It 
contains  a  regulation,  the  object  of 
which  is  at  once  to  prevent  all 
misunderstanding  by  the  offending 
minister's  sovereign  of  the  grounds 
upon  which  he  should  be  ordered 
to  depart  or  sent  home  ;  and  to 
mark  by  a  strong  line  of  discrimi- 
nation the  cases  when  a  fortigo 
minister  is  dismissed  for  miscon- 
duct, from  those  when  he  is  expn:!- 
led  on  account  of  national  differ- 
ences. In  this  latter  case,  by  the 
general  understanding  and  usage 
of  nations,  an  order  to  depart,  giv- 
en to  a  foreign  minister,  is  equiva- 
lent to  a  declaration  oJF  war.  In 
the  European  governments,  where 
the  power  of  declaring  war,  and 
that  of  negpciating  with  foreign 
states,  are  committed  to  the  same 
hands,  this  nice  discrimination  of 
the  Apecihck  reasons  for  wLicli « 
minister  may  be  disniissed,  is  &r 
less  important  than  with  us.  The 
power  of  declaring  war  is  with  us 
exclusively  vested  in  congress ; 
and  as  the  order  to  depart,  when 
founded  on  national  disputes*  a- 
mounts  to  such  a  declaration,  it  ap* 
peai-s  to  me  by  fair  inference,  tfiat 
for  such  cause  the  president  of  the 
United  States  cannot  issue  such  aa 
order  without  the  express  request 
or  concurrence  of  congress  to  that 
effect.  It  was  from  this  view  of 
the  subject  that  in  the  present  bill» 
the  power  vested  in  the  president 
to  send  home  a  culpable  minister 
is  so  precisely  limited  to  the  cases 
when  the  minister  shall  have  de- 
served that  treatment  by  his  per- 
sonal misconduct.  This  distinc* 
tion  between  the  cau*eB  for  which 
a  foreign  minister  may  be  sent 
home  has  been  solemnly  recogniz-* 
ed)  in  a  remarkable  manner,  by  this 
government  in  Uie  treaty^  wkii  &» 


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CONCSailiNd   rORSlGV   MIKISTXR8« 


273 


Britain  of  19. Nov.  1794,  in  the 
26th  article.t 

Here,  Sir,  the  ^fskding  home  a 
minister  for  national  causes  is  re' 
cognized  to  be  the  very  test  of  a 
rupture,  and  exactly  tantamount  to 
a  declaration  of  war.  But  tKe 
same  act,  done  for  the  minister's 
personal  misconduct,  is  ackno>yU 
edged  to  be  a  right  of  both  parties, 
which  they  agree  to  retain  ;  and 
h  is  stipulated  that  it  shall  not  in 
that  case  be  deemed  equivalent  to 
a  rupture.  The  expressions  used 
imply  that  the  parties  did  not  con- 
sider themselves  as  intro4ucing  in 
this  part  of  the  article  a  new  law, 
but  as  explaining  the  old.  It  is 
merely  declaratory,  «  for'  greater 
certainty,"  and  tlie  previous  ex* 
istence  of  the  right  is  recognized 
by  the  stipulation  that  both  par- 
ties shall  rttain  it.  This  is  one  of 
the  articles  of  the  treaty  which 
have  expired.  But,  as  expressing 
the  sense  both  of  our  own  nation, 
and  of  Great  Britain  upon  the  sub- 
ject to  which  it  relates,  it  is  as  ef- 
fectual as  it  ever  could  be.  Its 
provisions  are  still  binduig  upon 
both  parties,  as  part  of  the  law  of 
nations,  tho'  they  have  ceased  to  be 
obligatory  as  positive  stipulations. 

This  view  of  the  subject  will  al* 
so  fumbh  me  with  an  answer  to 
the  question  which  has  more  than 


f  ..^od  for  grtater  certatnty,  it  h  d<?- 
cUrfidf  that  a  rupture  ihill  not  l>e  deem- 
ed CO  exift,  while  uegodaiionf  for  ac* 
commodating  ditferences  (hall  be  depend- 
ing, nor  until  the  rcrpe(5live  ambaUadors 
Dr  miniders,  if  fuch  there  (hall  bc»  fl\all 
be  recalled,  or  fent  homt!  on  account  of 
fuch  di^rences,  and  not  on  accoiuit  of 
periboal  inifcondu<5^  according  to  the 
nature  and  degrees  of  which,  both  par- 
ties retain  their  riglits  either  to  rcquefl 
the  recal,  or  immediately  to  fend  home 
the  ambaflador  or  tnitrifter  of  the  other  : 
and  that  without  prejudice  to  their  mu- 
fu^  friendflup  and  good  underilandlng. 
Trsaty  ^Ub  G^riUia,  19  NviK  1 794^  art.JLH^ 

Vol.  HI.  No.  5."    ::  L 


once  been  put  to  me,  and  which 
may  perhaps  be  repeated  here.  It 
has  been  asked,  whether  the  first 
and  second  sections  of  the  bill  are 
not  superfluous  ?  whether  the  ca- 
ses are  not  already  provided  for^ 
and  whether  the  president  does 
not,  beyond  all  question,  possess 
the  power  which  they  purpose  to 
vest  in  him  ? 

That  the  power  Is  beyond  all 
question  vested  in  him,  is^  Sir» 
more  than  I  can  take  upon  me  to 
say.  Had  I  thought  it  beyond  all 
question,  I  certainly  should  not 
have  brought  forward  the  bill  in4ts 
present  shape.  And  I  will  in  can- 
dour add,  that  if,  after  a  due  con- 
sideration of  the  subject,  the  senate 
should  be  of  opinion,  that  the  pow- 
er is  vested  in  him  beyond  all  ques- 
tion, they  will  of  course  either  re- 
ject the  bill,  or  reduce  it  to  a  mere 
modiBcation  of  the  manner  iu 
which  he  shall  exercise  the  right, 
whenever  he  shall  deem  it  expe- 
dient. 

By  the  constitution  of  the  Uni- 
ted States,  the  executive  power 
generally  is  vested  in  the  president, 
and  he  is  expressly  authoiized  and 
directed  to  '*  receive  ambassadors 
and  other  publick  ministers.*'  Now 
Sir,  by  the  general  grant  of  tlie 
executive  power,  according  to  the 
writers  who  have  scrutinized  and 
diacriininatcd  with  the  nicest  ac- 
curacy the  powers  of  government, 
the  power  of  declaring  war  would 
of  course  be  included.  Such  is  the 
opinion  not  only  of  Montesquieu, 
but  of  Kousneau,  the  most  repub- 
lican of  writers  on  laws  and  con- 
sUtuiions.  The  piacllcc  of  all  the 
govenaneots  iu  Europe  which  ev- 
er recognized  the  division  of  pow- 
ers is  conformable  to  this  theory. 
But  our  coiisiitaiion  has  cr.pressly 
made  the  declaration  of  war  a  le- 
giilativc  yet,  and, by  fair  inference, 
whatever  is  by   the  custom  of  na- 


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274 


MR.   ADAMS's   SPEECH    ON   TffE   filtt 


tions  eqnivalcnt  to  a  declaration  of 
war  we  are  bound  to  consider  as  a 
legislative  act  also.  Thus  then, 
although  the  president  is  invested 
•with  the  executive  power,  and  al- 
though he  is  to  receive  foreign 
ministers,  yet,  not  having  the  power 
to  declare  war,  he  cannot  possess 
ihat  of  ordering  away  a  foreign 
minister  for  causes  of  national  dif- 
ference, because  that  is  a  virtual 
declaratkin  of  war.  He  is  atitho- 
rizw'd  to  receive  foreign  ministers, 
and  by  tHis  gratu  of  power  he  must 
be  authorized  to  determine  when, 
how,  and  whom  he  will  receive  as. 
such.  He  roust  be  conskiered  as 
possessing  the  power  to  determine 
upon  all  those  cases  when  a  man, 
coming  as  an  accredited  minister, 
may  by  the  laws  of  nations  be  de- 
nied a  reception  ;  and  be  must  al- 
so be  allowed  to  determine  when  he 
will  cease  to  receive  a  man  in  that 
capacity,  after  he  has  been  admit- 
ted. This  includes,  as  it  appears 
to  me,  the  right  to  request  his  re- 
cal,  and  even  to  intimate  the  Wish 
to  a  foreign  minister  that  he  would 
depart.  But  whether  it  also  in- 
cludes the  power  positively  to  or- 
der his  departure,  and  still  more, 
to  send  him  home  by  constraint,  is 
not  in  my  mind  absolutely  beyond 
a  doubt.  Ceasing'  to  receive  him 
Qs  a  publick  minister,  is  not  order- 
ing him  away  ;  much  less  is  it 
sending  him  home.  It  is  clear 
the  constitution  did  not  intend  the 
{Mresident  should  have  the  power  to 
•end  home  a  foreign  minister  in 
some  cases  ;  it  has  not,  hi  express 
terms,  given  him  the  power  in  any 
case.  Whether  he  has  it  by  im- 
plication, in  the  case  of  a  minister's 
misconducti  seems  to  me  not  abso- 
lutely beyond  a  doubt,  and  I  be- 
lieve the  very  doubt  in  a  point  of 
this  magnitude  would  operate  to 
prevent  its  exercise  in  a  case  of 
the  utmost  need.    That  doubt  it 


was  my  purpose  by  this  bill  to 
remove.  To  remove  it,  if  it  exists, 
is  unqnestionably  within  the  power 
of  congress,  and  the  occasion  calls 
loudly  for  their  interposition.  The 
doubt  appears  the  more  rational 
from  the  fact  that  the  power  has 
never  been  exercised.  The  revo- 
cations of  exequaturs  of  two  foreign 
consuls  by  president  Washington 
have  been  mentioned  as  cases  in 
pointy  but  are  not  applicable  :  for, 
in  the  first  place,  consuls  are  not« 
entitled  to  the  privileges  or  im- 
munities of  foreign  ministers  ;  and 
in  the  n«xt,  the  revocation  of  an 
exequatur  is  barely  equivalent  by- 
analogy  to  tlie  cetBatinn  to  receive 
a  minister.  It  neither  sends  the 
man  away,  nor  even  orders  him  to 
depart. 

But  it  has  been  the  fortune  of 
this  bill  to  be  attacked  from  quar- 
ters hi  direct  opposition  to  each 
other ;  and  while,  on  the  one  hand, 
it  has  been  censured  as  vesting  in 
the  president  a  power  which  be- 
yond all  question  he  possesses  al- 
ready ;  on  the  other  it  has  been 
blantcd  as  putting  in  hb  hands 
a  power  which  beyond  all  ques- 
tion he  has  not,  and  which  the  con- 
stitution never  intended  he  should 
have.  This  construction  of  our 
constitution  has  been  lairf  down, 
•  Sir,  for  our  edification  and  im- 
provement, by  a  foreign  minister, 
in  his  correspondence  with  onr 
secretary  of  state,  which  I  speak 
of  as  a  matter  of  publick  notorietyr 
because  it  has  been  published  in 
all  our  newspapers,  and  remains 
uncontradicted.  I  must  however 
observe,  that  at  the  time  when  this 
bill  was  introduced  I  had  never 
seen,  and  had  110  knowledge  of  this 
learned  Spanish  commentary  upon 
the  constitutbn  of  the  United 
Sutes. 

I  had  not    imagined   that  the 
true  intent  and  meaning  of  our 


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COKCBKKING   FOKElOy   MINISTERS. 


our  great  national  compact  was  to 
oe  settled  by  a  foreign  minister  ; 
neither  did  it  enter  my  heart  to 
conceive  that  the  government  of 
the  United  States  was  to  receive 
lessons  from  a  Spaniard  upon  the 
extent  of  its  constitutional  powers. 
Yet,  Sir,  so  it  is.  The  Spanish 
minister  has  first  chosen  to  con- 
strue into  an  order,  what  he  was 
expressly  told  was  not  an  or- 
<ier ;  and  next  to  tell  the  secretary 
of  state  tliat  this  order  is  contrary 
to  the  spirit  of  the  confttitution  and 
government  of  this  country.  I  find 
however  that  there  are  even  A- 
vnerican  citizens,  who  think,  with 
this  diplomatick  expounder  of  our 
Jaws,  that  the  president  in  no  case 
has  the  power  to  order  a  foreign 
minister  to  depart  fi*om  our  terri- 
tories. I  have  myself  always  in- 
clined to  the  opinion,  that,  for  these 
cases  of  personal  misconduct,  the 
power  of  removal  was  given  by  the 
spirit  of  the  constitution,  though 
Hot  perhaps  by  its  letter.  That 
he  ought  to  possess  it,  is  not  in  my 
mind  a  subject  of  doubt  at  all  ;  for 
considering  the  nature  of  a  foreign 
minister's  privileges,  and  the  dan- 
ger and  urgency  of  the  cases 
wherein  men  invested  witli  that 
character  most  frequently  abuse 
them,  to  deny  the  president  the 
exercise  of  the  only  means  which 
can  control  them,  is  to  deny 
the  nation  itself  the  means  of 
self  defence  at  the  most  perilous 
extremities.  It  may  be  asked 
whether  this  argument  would  not 
apply,  with  equal  force,  to  the  ca- 
ses in  which  I  deny  the  president's 
power  to  expel  a  foreign  minis- 
ter, and  in  which  the  bill  does 
not  propose  to  give  it.  To  this,  I 
answer,  No.  In  every  possible 
c^e,  when  a  publick  minister  could 
be  ordered  home  on  account  of  na- 
tional differences,  congress  must 
be  in  sessioBi  or  must  be  sum- 


moned for  the  pui-pose.  ,  Such  a 
state  of  things  cannot  suddenly 
arise.  It  is  a  measure  never  to  be 
resorted  to,  unless  with  the  settled 
<letenni nation  of  war  ;  and  its  ex- 
ercise never  can  be  necessary  for 
the  president  to  tSc  execution  of 
his  constitutional  powers. 

But  the  personal  misconduct  of 
a  minister  may  happen  at  any 
time,  when  congress  is  not  in  ses- 
sion as  probably  as  when  it  is.  It 
would  certainly  happen  more  fre-  i 
qucntJy  in  the  former  case  than  in 
the  latter,  if  during  the  recess  no 
power  of  restraint  upon  him 
could  be  used.  These  are  offen- 
ces, the  detection  of  which  would 
often  be  accidental,  sudden,  unex- 
pected ;  calling  for  the  instantane- 
ous interposition  of  a  vigorous 
arm  to  rescue  the  country  from 
its  danger.  Suppose  a  conspiracy 
Tike  that  of  Tarquin's  ambassa- 
dors, or  that  of  Catiline  at  Rome, 
like  that  of  Bedmar  at  Vetiice, 
like  that  of  Cellamare  in  France : 
To  say  that  the  president  ^ould 
have  no  weapon  of  defence  with- 
in hb  reach,  until  congress  should 
be  assembled,  would  give  the  con- 
spiring minister  the  power  to  ex- 
ecute at  full  leisure  such  orders 
as  Cellamare  received  from  Car- 
dinal Alberoni,  and  enable  himi 
before  his  hand  could  be  arrested, 
to  9et  fire  to  all  the  mme$.  It  is 
therefore  as  clear  to  me,  that  the 
president  ought  to  possess  the 
power  of  expulsion  for  personal  of- 
fences, as  that  he  oufht  not  to 
possess  the  same  power  for  causes 
of  national  controversy.  And  if 
the  constitution  by  its  silence  has 
left  it  questionable,  it  seems  to  me 
incumbent  upon  congress  to  re- 
move every  shadow  of  doubt  from 
the  case.  \^ . 

Among  the  pther  objections 
which  I  have  heard  ailedged  a- 
gainst  any  legislattve^tct  upon  this 


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^76 


MV.  ADAMS's' SPEECH   OK  THE  BILL 


subject^  I  shall  now  notice  that 
which  I  consider  as  of  the   least 
real  weight ;  and  that  is,  that  oth- 
er nations  have  not  made  it  a  sub- 
ject of  legislation.     But  other  na- 
tions have  mu  t»    the  exemption  of 
foreign  ministei*s  from  their  civil 
jurisdiction   a  subject  of  legisla- 
tion, as  appears  in  Martens.*  And 
witli  respect  to  the  criminal  jurisr 
dictions    in    cases    of    common 
wmes>  it  is  remarkable  that  Ihp 
same  Martens  says  the  English, 
Jbr  the  ivant  qfan  exfirtss  law  upr 
on  the  subject,  havp  departed  from 
the  usages  of  all  other  nations  in 
this  partipular,  and  made  foreijrn 
ministers  amenable  tp  their  crimir 
pal  jurisdiction .f     Now,  Sir,  if  the 
English  nation  are  th]4s  charged 
with  a  deviation  from  the  practice 
of  all  other  civilized  nations,  be- 
cause they  have  not  m^de  ap  ex- 
press law  for  acceding  to  it,  surely 
no  exception  ca|i  be  tal^en  against 
us  for  making  precisely  such  a 
|aw  ai|  England  is  said  to  want. 

•  The  exemption  of  foreign  Tniniflen 
from  the  junfdidHon  of  the  ftate  is  reg- 
ulated in  Hollsmd  by  the  ordinances  of 
the  States  General,  of  U  Auguft,  1676, 
♦nd  9  Sept.  1679;  and  of  the  State*  of 
fJolland  of  8  Aug.  1659,  SO  July  and 
J  *  Aug.  1  $61,  Sec  the  ••  Groot  PUcaaj 
Boek"  under  date  of  thcfe  years.  In 
England,  hy  a<ft  of  parliament,  10  Ann, 
cb.  7.  In  Portugal,  by  ordinance  of  1 748. 
Msrfttu*  Summary,  A,  vii.  fh.  5,  §.  3, «.  b. 


f  In  the  praaice  of  the  European  nat 
lions  we  ^md,  that  in  cafes  o^  fnvatt 
•nmn  epv[^i%%d  by  arainifttir,  it  is  tbo't 
commool^  lufficicnt  to  demand  his  rccal. 
Though  in  T-ngland  the  want  of  an  tx- 
prcf*  law  feems  to  leave  minifters  Wirh- 
out  ihelter  IH>m  a  crimmiil  profecution. 
>ti  thdcafSrof  (Vace  crimes,  it  is  thought 
Jufficie«  to  feisfk  his  peribn,  while  the 
f#lety  of  the  (l^tf  ijji  in  danger,  r^jlcafing 
and  fending  him  home  afterwards ;  even 
this  extreniity  is  not  commonly  reforterf 
f6,  if  the  danger  is  lefs  Imminent,  and  if 
It  will  admit  the  ezpedicfBt  of  fending 
^^^7  tlie  ipifiifleri  P»  demanding  his  re- 
CM«    MkrUttf*  £Mi.  k  vii.  c.  5,  5. 1  b%  If,  ^ 


This  law,  therefore,  instead  of  a 
mark  of  singularity,  must  be  re- 
garded  as  a  lest  of  conformity. 
Instead  of  throwing  us  into  a  cor- 
ner  with  the  solitary  exception,  it 
introduces  us  into  the  general  cir- 
cle of  nations.     It  is  not  in  sullen 
derogation,  but  in  explicit  affirm- 
ance of  the  general   usage.     It  is 
no  variation  of  our  political  com- 
pass ;  it  is  only  the  steady  point* 
ing  of  our  needle  to  tlie  real  pole. 
But  a  still  more  concjusive  an- 
swer to  this  objection  is,  thtit  oth- 
er nations  have  made  no  law  upon 
this  subject,  because,  conformably 
to  their  constitutions,  the  act  of 
sending  hoqie  a  foreign  minister 
.  is  in  all  cqse€  a?i  executix^e  net  ;  and 
of  course  an  act  i-equiiing  no  le- 
gislative interposition.      J  have  al- 
ready shewn.  Sir,  that  by  our  con- 
stitution, it  nmst  in  some  cases,  be 
considered  as  a  legislative  act  j 
and  hepcc  arises  a  reason  peculiar 
to    ourselves   fpr    regulating  the 
yhole  subject  by  legislative  sane* 
tion  :  reserving  ^o   congress  the 
power  to  exercise  it  when  it  be- 
comes equivalent   tp  a  declaration 
of  war,  and  leaving  it  in  the  hands 
of  the  president  when  it  is  upon 
oyr  own  prjnciplts  an  act  purely 
executive. 

These,  Sir,  ^^^  the  condderc- 
tjons  deduced  fropi  the  laws  of  na* 
tipns  find  from  our  own  consdlu- 
tion,  upon  which  the  bill  was  pre- 
sented to  the  senyite  in  its  oiiginal 
shape  ;  the  amendment  reported 
by  order  pf  the  roniniittee  is  en- 
tirely in  tlie  spi]il  of  the  bill,  aijd 
only  bpe^ifies  the  precise  mode  In 
which  the  order  for  the  removal  of 
a  criminal  foreign  minister  shall 
be  executed*  This  section  piay 
perhaps  be  deemed  expedient  even 
ifit  should  be  conclud<;cJ  that  the 
abstract  power  is  unquestionably 
vested  in  the  president.  For  even 
if  he  has  the'pow^r  without  th« 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


COKtrayiKG    FOREIGN  ViNIsV^rS?* 


irf 


legalized  oi^ans  of  carrying  it  into 
effect,  as  to  all  purposes  of  publick 
benefit,  the  case  is  the  same  as  if 
he  had  it  not.  It  is^  6n  this  sup- 
position, one  bf  those  authorities 
which  require  an  organic k  law  to 
render  it  practical.  Nor  is  this 
the  only  instance  in  which  the  con^ 
stitution  has  left  it  in  the  discretion 
of  congress  to  prescribe  the  man* 
ner  of  carrying  its  injunctions  into 
effect.  The  very  first  law  in  your 
statute  bopk  is  an  example  of  the 
same  description.  The  constitu- 
tion had  enjoined  that  all  civil  offi- 
cers of  the  United  States,  and  of 
the  stiveral  states,  should  be  sworn 
to  its  support,  but  had  not  particu- 
larized the  manner  of  administer- 
ing the  oath  ;  and  the  first  act  of 
the  first  congress  under  our  presr 
ent  ^rohstltation  was  to  provide  the 
necessary  regulation. 

It  may  now  perhaps  be  expect- 
ed, Sir,  that  I  should  give  some 
explanation  of  the  more  immedi- 
ate circumstances  in  which  the 
bill  originated.  And  here,  I  am 
Sensible  that  I  tread  upon  delicate 
ground.  So  highly  honourable 
and  respectable  is  the  office  of  a 
foreign  minister,  that  to  treat  him 
with  disresi>ect  in  conimop  dis- 
course, and  still  more  in  legislative 
deliberation,  would  be  without  ex- 
cusCfWere  his  own  conduct  altogethr 
cr  unexceptionable.  Should  the 
beca^OQ  ivcr  happen  that  a  foreign 
minister,  by  his  own  violation  of 
all  the  common  decencies  of  social 
intercourse  towards  the  govern* 
mcnt  to  which  he  was  accredited, 
^^oMCpi^t  every  right  to perso- 
ifii[Rra|d^^  esteem,  still  I  hope. 
Sir,  f  snoolanot  forget  the  consid- 
eradon  due  to  the  credentials  of 
his  sovereign  ;  still  I  should  think 
itiyself  bound  to  observe  all  that 
in  ode  ration  of  expression  which 
can  be  consistent  with  the  senti- 
inents  of  indignation,  involuntarily 
excite  d  in  my  breast  by  an  insult 


upon    the     government    6t    my 
country. 

Within  a  few  days  after  the 
message  of  the  president,  at  the 
commencement  of  the  present  ses- 
sion of  congress  was  made  publick, 
the  Spanish  minister  addressed  to 
the  secretary  of  state  a  letter 
couched  in  terms  which  it  cannot 
be  necessary  for  me  to  particular- 
ize ;  and  containing,  not  only  stric- 
tures of  the  most  extraordinary 
nature  upon  all  the  parts  of  tha^ 
message  respecting  Spain,  but 
complaints  no  less  extraordinary 
at  what  it  did  mt  contain.  Con- 
sider this  procedure  in  its  real  light 
Sir,  and  what  is  it  ?  A  foreign 
minister  lakes  to  task  the  presi- 
dent of  the  United  States,  for  the 
manner  in  which  he  has  executed 
one  of  the  most  important  func- 
tions enjoined  upon  him  by  the 
constitution.  He  not  only  charges 
him  with  tnisreprescntation  in 
^hat  he  did  say,  but  he  presumes 
fo  dictate  to  him  what  he  should 
have  said.  I  forbear  all  comment 
upon  this  conduct,  as  it  relates  to 
the  present  chief  magistrate.  I 
ask  you.  Sir,  and  I  intrcat  every 
member  of  this  senate  to  ask  him- 
self, what  is  Its  tendency  as  it  re- 
lates to  our  country  ?  The  consti- 
tution of  the  United  States  makes 
it  one  of  the  president's  most  sol- 
emn duties  to  communicate  to 
congress  correct  information  re- 
lating ^o  the  state  of  our  publick 
aflVurs.  In  erery  possible  case  of 
disputes  and  controversies  of  right 
between  the  United  States  and  ant/ 
foreign  nation,  the  minister  of  that 
nation  must  have  an  interest;,  and 
the  strongest  interest  to  give  a 
gloss  and  colouring  to  the  objects 
in  litigation,  opposite  to  the  inter* 
est  of  our  country.  If,  whenever 
the  president  of  the  Utnted  States, 
upon  the  high  and  solemn  respon- 
sibility which  weighs  upon  every 
9ct  of  bis  official  duty,  gives  to 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


nt 


W^  ASAXS'l  SFBECM  OK  TRX  llIX 


eongrtsi  thit  account  of  uur  for- 
dg;n  relations^  which  is  necessary 
to  enable  them  to  adapt  their  meas* 
vres  to  the  circumstances  for  the 
general  welfare  of  the  Union,  if  a 
foreign  minister,  under  colour  of 
his  official  privileges,  is  to  contra- 
dict every  part  of  his  statements, 
to  impeach  the  correctness  of  his 
facts,,  and  to  chide  him  even  for 
his  omissions,  to  what  an  abyss  of 
abasement  is  the  &i*st  magistrate 
of  this  Union  to  be  degraded  ?  The 
freedom  which  a  S{>anish  minister, 
unreproved,  can  take  to-day,  a 
Ifrench  minister  would  claim  as  a 
light  to-morrow,  and  a  British 
minister  would  exercise,  without 
ceremony,  the  next  day.  A  diplo- 
matick  censorship  would  be  estab- 
^8hed  over  the  supreme  executive 
of  tliis  nation,  anid  the  president 
would  pot  dare  to  exhibit  to  con- 
gress the  statement  of  our  nation- 
al concerns,  without  previously 
submitting  h|s  message  for  appro- 
bation to  a  cabinet  council  of  for- 
eign ministers.  Under  the  Brit* 
bh  constitution,  the  speeches  of 
the  sovereign  to  his  parliament 
fu«  all  settled  in  bis  privy  cj^uncil, 
and  the  royal  lips  are  understood 
to  give  utterance  pnly  to  the  words 
gt  the  minister.  The  reason  of 
this  is,  that  by  the  forms  of  their 
constitution  the  sovereign  himself . 
|s  above  all  responsibility,  and  the  ' 
^ninister  is  the  person  accountaT 
ble  to  the  nadon  for  the  substance 
of  the  d^ourse,  delivered  by  his 
master.  In  their  practice,  there- 
fore, the  speech  is  made  by 
him  on  whom  the  respondbility 
vests.  But  if  this  new  assumption 
of  tlie  Spanish  minister  is  submit-; 
ted  toj  our  practice  will  be  an  im- 
provement on  the  British  theory, 
of  a  singular  cast  indeed  ;  for,, 
while  the  responsibility  ^viU  rest 
upon  tl^e  preudeut  who  delivers 
(^  l>>cmf;«>  its  cpntei^^  will  be. 


dictated  by  persons,  mt  only  loos^ 
ed  from  all  responsibility  to  ouj: 
country,  but  bound  in  allegiance, 
in  zeal,  in  duty,  to  the  very  princes 
^ith  whom  we  have  to  contend. 
The  same  control,  which  by  tliis 
measure  is  attempted  to  be  usurp- 
ed over  the  acts  of  the  president, 
will,  at  the  next  step,  and  by  an 
easy  transition,  be  extended  to  the 
legislature  ;  and  instead  of  parcel- 
ling out  the  message  among  seve- 
ral committees  for  their  consider- 
ation, we  shall  have  to  appoint 
committees  upon  every  part  of  tlie 
message  relating  to  any  foreign 
power,  to  wait  upon  the  minister 
of  that  power  and  inquire  what  it  is 
the  pleasure  of  his  master  that  we 
should  do. 

That  such  is  the  inevitable  ten- 
dency, and  the  real  intention  of 
this  proceeding  will  appear,  not 
only  from  a  due  consideration  of 
the  act  itself,  but  from  a  proper 
estimate  of  its  avowed  motive,  and 
from  the  subsequent  conduct  of 
t^e  same  minister.  He  addi-essed 
this  letter  to  the  secretary  of  state, 
not  for  the  purpose  of  asking  any 
explanation,  not  for  the  purpose  of 
giving  any  satisfaction,  not  for  any 
of  the  u2%ial  and  proper  purposes 
of  a  diplomatick  communication, 
but,  09  he  himself  declares  f  for  our 
government  to  publish,  with  a  view 
to  counteract  the  statements  of  the 
president's  message.  It  was  a 
challenge  to  the  president,  to  en- 
ter th^  lists  of  a  pamphleteering 
war  against  him,  for  the  instruc- 
tion of  the  Anaerican  people,  and 
the  amusement  of  foreign  courts  ; 
and,  having  failed  in  this  laudable 
project,  he  addresses,  after  the  cx-» 
piration  of  forty  days,  a  circular 
letter  to  the  other  foreign  minis- 
ters residing  in  the  United  States, 
with  copies  of  his  letter  to  the  sec-, 
retary  of  state,  as  if  these  foreign 
miners  ly^e  the  regular  irnipir^f^ 

,1* 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


C0MC£Rlll9a  FORSXair    lCtKItTK»». 


art 


Wf ween  him  and  our  government. 
Not  content  however  with  this  ap- 
peal, he  authorizes  them  to  give 
copies  of  his  letters  to  ensure  that 
publication  with  which  our  govern^ 
ment  had  not  gratified  him ;  and 
calls  at  once  upon  the  Aiperican 
people,  and  upon  the  European 
courts,  to  decide  between  the  pres- 
ident and  Mm,  Here  too,  Sir,  I 
beg  gentlemen  to  abstract  the  par- 
ticular instance  from  the  gene- 
eral  principle  of  this  transaction. 
The  same  act  which,  under  one 
9et  of  circumstances,  can  only  ex- 
cite contempt,  under  another  be- 
cromes  formidable  in  the  extreme. 
Of  the  newspaper  appeal  to  the 
people,  I  say  nothing.  The  peo- 
ple of  this  country  are  not  so  dull 
of  understanding,  or  so  depraved 
in  vice,  as  to  credit  the  assertions 
of  a  foreigner,  bound  by  no  tie  of 
duty  to  thern^  the  creature  and 
agent  of  their  adversary,  in  con- 
tradiction to  those  of  their  own  of- 
ficer, answenA)le  to  them  for  his 
every  wonl,  and  stationed  at  the 
post  of  their  highest  confidence. 
But  the  circular  to  the  other  for- 
eign ministers,  is  a  species  of  ap- 
peal hkherto  unprecedented  in  the 
United  States.  And  what  is  its 
object  ?  the  infirmation  of  their 
ccmrts  ;  that  the  governments  of 
France  and  Great-Britain  may 
learn  from  him  the  juitice  and 
g^enrrotittf  of  his  master. 

It  is  probable  that  both  those 
nations,  the  ally  and  the  enemy  of 
Spain,  have  much  bett^  materials 
lor  estimating  the  justice  and  gen- 
erosity of  his  Catholic  majesty; 
but  what  have  they  to  do  m  ^t 
•  case  ?  By  an  anonymous  newspa- 
per puWcauon,  the  idiom  of  which 
discovers  its  origin,  a  precedent  h 
tlledged  in  justification  of  this  ex*- 
traordinary  step,  and  the  recipro^ 
cal  communication  of  diplomatick 
inemoriais  concerning  the  tAirs  of 


Holland  in  the  years  If  ^  and 
1787,  betwctn  the  ministers  of 
Great-Britain,  France  and  Prussia, 
at  the  Hague,  is  gravely  adduced 
as  warranting  this  innovation  of 
the  Spamsh  minister  iiere.  Th4 
very  reference  to  that  time,  place, 
and  occasion  would  of  hsdf  be  a 
sufficient  indication  of  the  intent  at 
this  time.  In  the  years  1786  and 
1787,  the  three  powers  I  have  just 
mentioned  undertook,  between 
them,  not  only  to  interfere  in  the 
internal  govemitient  of  Holland, 
but  to  regulate  and  control  it  ac- 
cording to  a  plan  upon  which  they 
were  endeavouring  to  agree.  Their 
ministers  therefore  very  naturally 
communicated  to  each  other  the 
memorials  which  they  presented 
to  the  Dutch  government.  And 
what  was  the  result  ?  Two  of  those 
three  powers  "fixed  between  them- 
selves the  doom  of  Holland  ;  rais- 
ed a  tyrannical  faction  upon  the 
ruins  of  that  country's  freedom, 
and  marched  the  dUke  of  Bruns^' 
wick,  at  ^e  head  of  jhnrty  thou* 
sand  men,  into  Amsterdan>)  to 
convince  the  Hollanders  of  the 
kingof  Prussia's  7*u«frc^  and  ^ene- 
Totity, 

This,  Sir,  is  the  precedent,  cal- 
led to  our  recollection  for  the  ptir- 
pose  of  reconciling  us  to  the  hu- 
miliation of  our  condition.  We 
are  patiently  to  behold  a  9panis& 
minister,  insulting  the  President 
of  the  United  States,  dictating  to 
him  M9  construction  of  oitr  consti- 
tution ;  calling  upon  other  foreign 
ministers  to  coimtenance  hi^  pre- 
sumpt{on,and  entrenching  himself 
behind  the  example  of  another  na- 
tion, once  inade  the  victim  of  a 
like  usurpation.  The  resemblance 
is  but  too  strong,  and  wMl,  I  hope, 
mot  be  forgotten  by  us.  If  the 
constitutional  powers  of  a  Butch 
'Stadthohter  were  prescribed  «nd 
tnouided  according  to  the  pleastuA 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


*«? 


MB.  ADAMb^S  St'EECff. 


«nd  by  the  intei-ferencc  of  foreign 
powers,  as  undoubtedly  they  were, 
let  us  remember  the  fact  \nih  a 
determination  never  to  be  so  con- 
troled  ourselves*  It  is  held  up 
to  us  as  example.  Let  us  take  U 
as  warning. 

The  subsequent  proceedings  of 
the  Spanish  minister  liave  been  all 
in  the  same  spirit  with  that,  under 
which  he  presumed  to  call  upop 
the  president  to  enter  the  lists  of 
altercation  wiih  himy  before  the 
people  of  this  country.  They 
manifest  pretensions  to  which  we 
ought  not  to  submit ;  which  we 
ought  vigorously  to  resist.  In  liis 
last  letter  to  the  secretary  of  state, 
he  tells  him,  tliat  he  will  receive 
no  orders  but  from  his  own  mas* 
ter.  Now  if  this  has  any  mean- 
ing, it  must  be  to  deny  tlie  United 
States  the  right  of  ordering  him 
away  ;  that  is,  one  of  the  most  in- 
disputable rights  of  every  sover- 
eign power.  When  pretensions^ 
fio  destitute  of  all  foundation,  are 
^dvancedy  it  becomes  us  immedi- 
ately to  shew  our  sense  of  them  : 
not  to  resist  them  might  be  cpn- 
strued  into  acquiescence.  It  is  a 
virtual  dereliction  of  our  rights  not 
to  defend  tliem  when  thmy  are  as*- 
sailed. 

I  am  indeed  fully  sensible  that 
thc^  operation  of  the  bill  I  have 
proposed,  should  it  meet  the  sanc- 
tion of  congress,  will  not  be  retro- 
spective :  that  to  what  has  passed, 
;io  remedy  which  can  now  be  pro- 
vided will  apply.  But  we  may  pre- 
vem  in  future  occurrences  of  a 
like  character}  and  of  much  more 
dangerous  consequence.  We  may 
prevent  the  spreading  of  an  evili 
which  threatens  the  dearest  inter* 
ests  of  the  nation.  We  may  pre«> 
vent  even  the  repetition  of  insulu 
and  injuries,  which,  but  for  the 
want  of  the  regulations  now  pro- 
jposed,   in   all  probability   never 


would  have  been  offered.  In  mf 
x>wn  opinion,  die  necessity  for  some 
legislative  provision  upon  this  sub^ 
ject,  will  force  itself  upon  this  gov* 
crnment  witli  additional  pressure 
from  year  to  year,  imtil  it  can  no 
longer  be  resisted.  If  foreign 
ministers  ai*c  to  possess  in  the 
United  States  an  unbounded  inde- 
pendence of  all  the  tribunals  of  jus- 
tice, while  the  United  States  on 
their  part  are  to  be  deprived  of  the 
ordinary  means  of  self-defence, en- 
joyed and  exercised  by  all  otlier 
sovereigns  to  check  the  abuse  of 
those  ^rmidable  privileges,  the 
course  of  events  will,  in  my  belief> 
at  no  very  distant  day,  bring  us 
into  that  unhappy  dilemma,  which 
will  leave  no  other  alternative  than 
to  infringe  the  laws  of  nations,  or 
to  sacrifice  our  constitution  }  to 
commit  violent  outrage  upon  the 
rights  of  others,  or  to  make  a  das- 
tardly  surrender  of  our  own. 

Mr.  President,  I  ask  your  for- 
giveness, and  that  of  the  senate 
for  having  trespassed  so  long  on 
your  and  their  indulgence.  They 
have  now  before  them  the  princi- 
ples and  the  motives  on  which  the 
bill  was  first  introduced.  It  is  for 
them  to  determine  upon  their  jus- 
tice and  propriety.  Should  they 
think  tliat  my  feelings  or  preju- 
dices have  exaggerated  the  evil  for 
which  I  am  sincerely  seeking  a 
remedy,  or  that  the  remedy  itself 
is  liable  to  insuperable  objections,' 
they  will  at  once  dismiss  the 
subject  from  their  deliberations. 
Should  they  on  the  other  hand  con- 
sider the  principle  of  the  bill  as 
admissible,  they  will  fashion  its 
details  at  their  pleasui^.  To  their 
decision,  whatever  it  may  be,  I 
s^all  cheerfully  submit,  with  the 
full  conviction  that  it  will  be  dictfi- 
ted  by  a  pure  and  enlightened  re- 
gard to  the  honour  and  welfare  of 
our  country. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


THE 


MONTHLY   ANTHOLOGY, 


JUNE,     1806. 


ORIGINAL     LETTERS     FROM     EUROPE. 


JVb.  6. 


neatre9^..Conversazioni,„jimu9ement8at  Miplea,., Character  and  Manners, 


I  HATE  already  regaled  you 
yfiVCti  the  ruins  on  one  side  of  Na- 
ples, and  before  I  present  you 
those  on  the  other,  I  will  introduce 
you  to  the  amusements  and  man- 
ners of  the  Neapolitans. 

There  ju-e  four  theatres,  three  of 
which  are  generally  open  at  the 
same  time.  The  royal  theatre, 
contiguous  to  the  palace  of  the 
king,  is  just  closed,  at  the  com- 
mencement of  Lent.  The  thea- 
tre itself  is  the  largest  in  Europe. 
The  fronts  of  the  boxes  were  for- 
merly covered  with  mirrors,vhich, 
when  the  theatre  was  illuminated, 
produced  the  most  brilliant  effect. 
The-  boxes  are  now  painted,  but 
each  one  has  in  the  inside  one  or 
two  small  mirrors,  in  front  of  which 
candles  are  lighted.  The  theatre, 
except  on  particular  occasions, 
is  very  obscure  ;  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  distinguish  any  counte- 
nance in  the  distant  boxes  ;  there 
arc  no  lights,  except  on  the  stage. 
Those  who  hire  the  boxes,  ^irhich 
is  generally  done  by  the  season, 
light  their  own  boxes  if  they 
choose  ;  this  is  but  rarely  done,  so 
that,  excepting  half  a  dozen  scat- 
tered boxes  with  four  or  five  wax 
lights,  the  body  of  the  theatre  is  in 
obscurity.  I  have  been  only  twice 
at  this  theatre.  The  performances 
wer<;  a  serious,  opera,  followed  by  a 

Vol.  HI.  No.  6.     2M 


ballet,  neither  of  which  could  be 
called  excellent.  The  dancing  did 
not  rise  above  mediocrity,  and  the 
dancers  appeared  to  be  more  anx- 
ious to  exhibit  feat»  of  strength^ 
tlian  those  graceful,  characteristick 
movements,  which  form  the  ex- 
cellence of  this  art.  In  the  musick 
also  I  was  disappointed ;  the  orches- 
tra was  mean,  and  there  was  no 
singer  of  great  talent.  There  are 
three  other  theatres,  at  one  of  which 
comedy  and  tragedy  are  occasion- 
ally played.  There  are  one  or  two 
actors  and  one  actress  possessed 
of  considerable  merit,  but  their  ac- 
tion and  gestures  were  violent 
and  exaggerated.  One  of  the 
theatres  is  devoted  to  the  opera 
Bt^a^  and  in  this  the  Neapolitan 
singers  and  composers  excel  all 
others.  The  person  that  can  hear 
the  delightful  airs  of  Cimarosa.and 
Paisiello  witliout  emotion  and  de- 
light, must  be  fit  for  ^^  treason, 
stratagems,  and  murder."  Dur- 
ing Lent  the  theatre  Del  Fondo  is 
opened  for  performing  oratorios. 
That  of  Saul  has  been  the  oiUy  one- 
given  this  season.  Though  1  have 
heard  it  five  or  six  times,  my  pleas* 
ure  seems  increased  ai  every  repe- 
tition. There  is  in  this  oratorio  a 
quartetto, beginning  ^^Pieto^o  Dio^'* 
&c.  which  I  have  no  hesitation  in 
preferring  to  every  other  piece  of 


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282 


LETTERS   FROM  EUROPE. 


inuMck  I  have  ever  heard.  Naples 
formerly  boasted  of  the  first  sing- 
ers and  mast  able  composers  in 
Euroj)e.  The  recent  misfortunes 
of  this  country  have  driven  most 
of  them  away.  Paisiello  is  in  Pa- 
ris; Mrs.BillingtoninELngland;  yet 
th«y  gtill  possess  NtonheUi,  who, 
though  past  his  prhne,  is  the  first 
tenor  m  Europe  The  Miller  is 
an  admirable  comick  singer,  and 
they  have  a  promise  of  a  great 
singer  in  the  Pinotti^  a  young  girl 
of  seventeen,  who  has  vast  powers 
•f  voice,  and  is  already  a  rival  with 
the  first  cantatricea.  If  she  con- 
tinues to  improve,  she  will  become 
the  best  singer  in  Europe.  Their 
orchestras  are  all  of  them  mean  ; 
indeed  the  Neapolitans  pay  but 
little  regard  to  instrumental  mu- 
sick,  arid  have  not  patience  enough 
to  become  great  performers.  I 
have  seen  them  make  many  wry 
faces  in  executing  some  passages 
•f  German  musick,  which  delights 
in  difficulties. 

There  is  little  variety  at  these 
theatres ;  the  san>e  pieces  are  given 
for  a  month  together,  and  the  Ital» 
ians  who  have  heard  them  very 
often  pay  very  little  attentbn  to 
the  stage.  They  employ  themselves 
in  conversation,  excepting  the  mo- 
ment when  some  favourite  air  is 
»ung,when  they  are  profoundly  si- 
lent. A  stranger  may  vex  himself 
to  no  purpose  ;  the  recitative  and 
many  of  the  airs  are  drowned  in 
the  talking  of  the  audience. 

The  boxes  are  generally  hired 
by  the  month,  and,  as  no  single 
tickets  are  sold,  strangers  have 
recourse  to  the  pit,  in  which  the 
seats  are  very  convenient,  having 
a  cushion  and  arms  to  each  ;  and 
each  seat  being  separate,  they  are 
often  hired  by  the  month  together, 
and  in  that  case  are  locked  up, 
when  tbe  occupant  is  no^  prcsent. 
The  theatres  are  opened  through 


the  year  at  the  second  hour  of  the 
night  ;  so  that  in  summer  time 
the  perfonnance  does  not  begin 
till  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening. 
This  awkward  mode  of  countings 
time  h  very  perplexing  to  a  stran- 
ger, and  the  inhabitants  here  know 
DO  other.  Suiiaet  is,  according  to 
them,  twenty-four  o'clock  ;  from 
whence  they  begin  one,  two,  &c. 
As  each  day  varies  a  little,  their 
time  is  perpetually  incorrect.  It 
has  been  my  misfortune  to  make 
several  ridiculous  blunders  in  this 
way  of  reckoning  time. 

The  conversazioni  are  one  of 
the  most  common  amusements  of 
Naples,  and  those  to  which  a 
stranger  is  generally  introduced. 
These  are  parties  given  in  the 
evening,  though  of  all  others  they 
least  deserve  the  name  of  corrver* 
mtioTu.  There  are  a  few  ladies 
who  hold  them  every  evening. 
Two  of  these,  at  the  houses  of  t^ 
Dutchess  of  ■ ,  and  t^  Mar- 
chioness •—,  are  the  most  res- 
pectable, and  are  the  resort  of  the 
nobili^  and  respectable  strangers. 
There  are  others  of  different 
grades,  so  that  all  ranks  have  ac- 
cession to  some  of  these  parties. 
A  stranger  who  should  go  to  a 
conversazione  with  an  idea  to 
rational  conversation,  would  be 
wretchedly  disappointed.  From 
the  highest  to  the  lowest;  the  chief 
occupations  are  cards  and  intrigue. 
Diflferent  games  are  played,  but 
there  is  always  one  party  for  trente 
ujiy  ajKl  this  is  the  most  com* 
mon  game.  A  person  may  have 
their  choice  of  losing  five  dollars, 
or  five  hundred  guineas  in  an  even- 
ing. It  was  very  disagi*eeable  to 
see  ladies  seated  at  these  tables, 
and  intent  upon  the  game  :  they 
certainly  are  never  less  attractive, 
than  when  thus  employed.  As 
for  the  Neapolitans  in  general 
they  are  the  coolest  gamblers  I 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


XJ&TTEES  .FB.OM  £URO?£. 


£S5 


have  ever  seen.  Losing  or  win- 
ning, their  countenance  undeigoes 
no  alteration.  In  this  they  have  a 
great  advantage  over  the  imprudent 
stranger,  who  suffers  himself  to  be 
neated  with  his  game.  Not  lon^ 
since,  an  English  oilker,  who  had 
obtained  a  furlough,  came  to  Na- 
ples to  pass  a  few  months,  and  had 
devoted  a  thousand  guineas  for  bis 
expenses.  A  few  evenings  after 
his  arrival,  being  introduced  at  one 
of  the  principal  conversazioni,  he 
tmluckily  approached  the  table  of 
trente  un  ;  he  lost  only  a  hundred 
guineas,  because  it  was  all  he  had 
about  him  ;  but  in  the  course  of 
two  or  three  evenings,  in  regain- 
ing this,  he  lost  the  rest,  and  em- 
ployed the  last  fifty  in  rejoining 
Jus  regiment. 

The  company  generally  retire 
iabout  two  or  three  in  the  morning. 
No  refreshment  is  given  at  these 
parties  but  iced  water  ;  and  these 
^^onversazkmi  cQmprize  the  hospi* 
fality  of  Naples.  As  every  person 
comes  attended  vdih  one  or  more 
servants,  they  are  playing  for 
copper  in  the  antichamber  while 
their  masters  in  the  saloon  are 
playing  for  gold.  This  rage  for 
gaming  appears  to  be  universal. 
Every  railk  is  engaged  in  it,  and 
I  have  never  been  in  any  house  at 
Naples,  except  the  French  ambas^ 
sador's,  where  cards  have  not  been 
introduced,  and  formed  jthe  princi- 
pal amusement. 

Hospitality  is  not  a  ^rtue  of , the 
Neapolitans.  A  stranger  very 
rarely  partakes  of  a  dinner  or 
supper  in  one  of  their  houses. 
They  are  very  tepvperate,  and 
their  repasts  of  the  ^ugal  land. 
Fish  of  various  kinds,  which  are 
caught  in  the  bay^  is  the  food 
they  esteem  the  most  luxurious. 
They  have  a  singular  prejudice 
against  all  kinds  of  tame  water 
Jowl ;  and  ducks  and  geese,  which 


are  favourite  food  with  other  na- 
tions, are  seldom  placed  on  their 
tables.  Their  most  common  food 
is  maccaroni,  and  many  thousands 
in  this  city  live  on  this  food  alone. 
A  dish  of  boiled  maccaroni  with  a 
little  cheese  grated  over  it,  forms 
the  breakfast,  tlinner,  and  supper 
of  the  mass  of  the  people,  and  in 
one  shape  or  another,  they  always 
form  a  part  of  a  Neapolitan  repast. 
The  frugality  of  their  tables  is  per- 
haps the  reason,  why  strangers  are 
excluded  from  them,  whose  sturdy 
appetites  would  be  indignant  at  the 
insipidity  of  maccaroni.  Excess 
in  drinking  is  a  vice  almost  un- 
known, and  toasts  are  never  given. 
The  common  hour  of  dining  is  at 
two  o'clock,  the  hottest  hour  of  the 
day  :  the  dinner  is  soon  finished, 
and  then,  overcome  with  lassitude, 
they  strip  themselves  to  the  skin, 
and  lay  down.  After  the  heat  of 
the  day  is  past,  and  the  approach 
of  evening  invites  them  to  partake 
of  its  refreshing  coolness  they  rise 
and  drive  in  their  carriages  to  the 
Gorso,  which  extends  from  the  city 
toPausilipo ;  here  they  turn  and  re- 
turn for  an  hour  or  two,  criticise 
each  other,  rehearse  the  anecdote 
of  the  day,  and  when  the  last  pur- 
ple ray  has  faded  from  the  sum- 
mit of  Vesuvius,  and  the  distant 
shores  of  the  bay  are  enveloped  in 
obscurity,  they  return  to  the  city, 
and  stopping  their  carriages  at  the 
ace  houses,  they  regale  themselves 
with  ices  in  their  carriages.  This 
is  with  them  a  favourite  luxury, 
and  in  no  part  of  the  world  are  they 
so  well  made,  as  at  Naples. 

After  going  home  and  adjusting 
their  dress,  they  go  to  the  theatre, 
which  is  generally  over  before 
midnight,  and  then  they  go  to  a 
conversazione,  or,  in  the  heat  of 
summer,  to  a  supper  party  at  Pau- 
silipo,  and  an  excursion  on  the 
bay.     At  the  approach  of  morn^ 


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281 


LETTBAS  TfLtH  EmOfS. 


ing  they  retire  to  repose  from  their 
fatigue,  and  to  prepare  themselves 
for  the  next  day.  I  have  been  so 
well  initiated  into  this  regular 
•mode  of  life,  that  I  seldom  see  my 
bed  before  three  or  four  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  the  hour  when  the 
industrious  farmer  in  America  has 
already  begun  his  daily  labour. 

The  Neapolitan  men  are  of 
superiour  stature  to  most  other 
nations  ;  it  is  rare  in  any  coun- 
try to  see  so  many  large  men 
as  are  in  this  city.  Some  of  them 
are  celebVated  for  their  personal 
strength  :  but  their  indolent  man- 
ners and  inactive  appearance  make 
them  appear  incapable  of  strong 
exertions.  They  are  the  slaves  of 
voluptuousness,  and  extremely  se- 
rious. Gaiety  requires  a  degree 
of  elasticity,  both  physical  and 
moral,  which  they  never  possess, 
or  which  the  climate  destroys.  The 
vivacity,  the  sprightly  activity  of 
a  Frenchman  forms  the  most  strik- 
ing contrast,  with  the  grave  indo- 
lence of  the  Neapolitans. 

The  appearance  of  the  women  is 
inferiour  to  that  of  the  men.  The 
climate  soon  matures  and  soon  de- 
stroys their  charms.  A  fine  com- 
plexion is  seldom  seen,  and  their 
excessive  indolence  encourages 
corpulency,  to  which  they  are 
most  of  them  subject.  Yet  one 
feature  they  have  in  perfection  ; 
they  have  universally  fine  eyes, 
sparkling,  penetrating,  and  full  of 
expression.  They  never  walk ;  but 
when  they  go  out  it  is  always  in  a 
carriage.  The  publick  prome- 
nade, called  the  villa,  is  a  very 
pleasing  one,  yet  it  is  little  fre- 
quented. There  are  not  more  than 
a  dozen  ladies  who  walk  in  it,  and 
only  four  or  five  of  these  often  use 
this  exercise.  As  they  are  never 
seen,  except  in  a  carriage,  or  sit- 
ting in  a  room,  pains  are  bestowed 
only  on  the  bust,  and  ^hcir  head 


and  shoulders  are  generally  tr* 
ranged  with  care  and  taste,  whilst 
the  rest  of  the  dress  is  awkward 
and  slovenly  ;  like  the  graceful 
neck  and  snowy  breast  of  the  swan, 
which  appears  so  beautiful  when 
he  is  swimming  on  the  water,  but 
which  is  wholly  destroyed  by  his 
clumsy  gait  in  walking.  The  Nea- 
politan ladies  should  not  be  seen 
walking,  as  their  waddling  gait  and 
uncouth  dress  are  always  ridiculous, 
and  sometimes  disgusdng.  Rouge 
is  little  used.  They  are  affable  to 
strangers,  and  appear  sometimes 
to  prefer  their  society  to  that  of 
their  own  countrymen.  Mos^ 
travellers  have  attributed  to  the  seip 
in  this  country  a  strong  disposition 
for  amorous  gallantry  and  intrigue ; 
and  Dupaty  says,  that  they  deceive 
with  singular  adroitness.  What  all 
concur  in, is  generally  true  ;  I  have 
no  reason  to  contradict  their  opin- 
ions. 

Both  sexes  are  generally  very 
slovenly,  and  the  people  are  very 
dirty.  They  halt  many  fine  foun- 
tains, and  might  easily  have  hot 
and  cold  baths  in  every  part  of  the 
city  ;  but  they  appear  to  have  an 
antipathy  to  water,  and  there  arc 
only  three  months  in  the  year  that 
they  bathe ;  when  temporary  sheds 
are  erected  upon  the  borders  of  the 
bay  for  this  purpose.  It  is  singu- 
lar,that  the  luxury  of  warm  baths, 
so  natural  to  an  effeminate  people, 
and  which  was  so  common  un- 
der the  ancient  Romans,  that  eve^x 
the  meanest  people  made  use  of 
them,  should  be  wholly  unknown 
at  Naples,  when  they  might  be  so 
easily  obtained,  and  would  be  so 
important  both  to  their  health  and 
pleasure. 

The  little  fidelity  that  is  found 
in  matrimonial  life,  and  of  course 
the  corrupt  state  of  society,  must 
be  attributed  to  the  manner  in 
Ifhich  marriages  arc  formed.  Gon- 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


HEMAKKER. 


885 


Tcrsing  on  this  subject  with  a  lady, 
whose  own  conduct  was  irreproach- 
able, she  asked  me  how  it  was  pos- 
sible, that  it  could  be  otherwise, 
when  the  marriages  were  formed 
by  the  parents,  directed  by  motives 
o;'  interest  and  ambition,  and  in 
which  the  parties  themselves  were 
never  consulted  !  A  young  girl  is 
taken  from  a  convent,  and  espous- 
ed to  a  man,  who  may  be  wholly 
disgusting  to  her  :  she  complains 
for  some  time  of  her  destiny  ;  the 
seduction  and  example  of  society 
soon  persuade  her  to  meliorate  it. 
The  husband,  who  has  taken  his 
wife  from  convenience,  sees  her 
lover  with  as  much  indifference  as 
the  rest  of  society,  and  derives  his 
consolation  in  making  the  injury 
mutual. 

After  having  dwelt  on  the  de- 
fect of  hospitality,  and  the  insip- 
id, degraded  state  of  society  in 
this  great  city,  I  should  be  un- 
just, if  I  did  not  inform  you, 
that  several  causes  have  contribu- 
ted to  make  it  peculiarly  bad  at  the 
present  moment.  The  revolution 
produced  the  most  fatal  effects  ; 
«pme  of  the  best  characters  fell  sa- 


crifices t6  the  rage  of  different  par- 
ties, and  many  noble  fiamilies  were 
constrained  by  their  political  opin- 
ions to  abandon    their    country. 
Those,  who  remained,  were  plun- 
dered of  their  property,  and  their 
estates  were  ruined.     The  king  is 
at   Palermo,  where  he   holds  his 
court.     The  queen  is  at  Vienna, 
and  a  part  of  the   court  is    with 
her.     The  hereditary  prince  is  the 
only  one  of  the  royal  family  now 
at  Naples,  except  a   little  prince, 
of  six  years  old,  and  the  courtiers 
know  too  well  the  danger  of  pay- 
ing much  attention  to  him.     Sir 
William  Hamilton,  whose  hospit- 
able house  was  frequented  by  the 
best  society,  is  no  longer  here,  and 
the  French  influence  is  so  predom- 
inant, that  the    present  English 
minister  lives  in  rather  a  retired 
manner.      At  the  house  of  Mr. 
Alguier,  the   French  ambassador, 
there  are    no    Neapolitans     nor 
cards  admitted,  and  this  is  the  only 
bousc,where  I  have  seen  that  kind 
of  society,  and  enjoyed  that  ration- 
al, liberal  conversation,  which  are 
found  in  the  circles  of  some  other 
countries. 


REMARKER, 


M.  10. 


Kun  mihl  et  rigtH  pUceant  to  valUbus  amnb ; 


Flumtna  amem  divuque  togtoriut. 


V»0.  Geor.  2. 


Oh  may  I  yet,  by  fame  forgotten,  dwell 

By  gushlns  fount,  wild  w*od,  and  ahadowy  dell. 


SOTHEBr. 


THE  iovc  of  nature  is  a  passion 
of  the  soul,  pure  and  intellectual. 
Its  energy  is  sublime,  without  the 
violence  of  animal  impulse,  and  its 
enjoyment  fine  and  exquisite,  with- 
out the  riot  and  confusion  of  meur 
tal  and  physical  indulgence.  It  is 
purely  spiritual,  because  it  is  pro- 
duced by  the  perceptions  of  the 
miad,  of  what  is  abstractly  beautir 
ful,  SiiKl  it  ^s    rapturous  in    that 


sympathy,  which  rebounds  from 
the  coincidence  of  natural  and 
ideal  beauty.  This  sympathy, 
however,  is  not  merely  confined 
to  such  a  harmony  of  beauties  ;  it 
mingles  also  with  what  is  tranquil 
in  nature,  Mid  it  extends  with  what 
as  sublime.  The  sofitness  of  the 
landscape  at  sun-setting  breathes 
itself  to  the  bosom  with  the  tender-r 
«8t  melancholy,  s^d  the  stiUpess  of 


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S96 


BSUA&ftSA. 


the  hke  tinder  flK>onlight  soothes 
the  soul  into  sweetest  repose.  In 
the  terror  of  the  mighty  evolutions 
of  nature,  man  is  also  prepared 
for  ruin.  His  genius  bounds  at 
the  approach  of  the  whirlwind  ;  it 
rushes  with  the  swiftness  of  its 
fiiry)  and  tracks  it  through  its 
rustling  path  to  the  boundaries  of 
the  heavens.  It  is  transcendent 
amid  the  horrours  of  the  tempest, 
and,  as  the  lightning  breaks  from 
the  thunder  cloud,  it  leaps  with 
■ubtimit)r,  and  moves  on  its  blaz- 
ing line  into  the  profundity  of 
darkness. 

Man  thus  appears  to  hold  an  in- 
timate cmmexion,  and  grand  alli- 
ance with  nature.  But  the  enjoy- 
ment of  this  blessing  seems  nega- 
tive by  habitual  experience,  though 
the  consciousness  of  it  is  neces- 
sarily deduced  from  the  supremacy 
of  his  power,  and  the  sublimity  of 
his  position  over  all  surrounding 
existence.  Still,  however,  must 
he  remain  contented  with  the  cer- 
tainty of  its  possession,  though  it 
be  in  some  measure  unaccountable 
to  himself.  He  must  learn  to  satis- 
fy his  mind  with  the  resemblances 
of  facts,  on  subjects  too  subtle 
fbr  their  operation,  and  he  must 
not  sicken  at  the  disappointment  of 
ydefining,  what  is  infinite.  The 
brighmess  of  beauty  should  en- 
lighten the  mistiness  <^  its  exist- 
ence, and  that  sublimity  which  is 
not  instantaneous  and  universal, 
may  be  produced  by  elevation  of 
.thought  and  combination  of  mag»> 
nitudes.  His  mind  may,  for  a  mo- 
ment, stand  and  gaze  on  the  very 
borders  of  its  own  perfection  ;  but 
before  it  can  even  catch  a  glimpse 
of  what  rolls  beyond,  it  perceives 
light  and  vision  blended,  and  lost 
in  the  deep  void  of  botindless 
space. 

There  is,  moreover,  the  aweet- 
|lst  union  of  the  pleasures  of  $ens$ 


and  intedleet  in  the  delight  of  m^ 
ture.  Through  this  bright  me- 
dium the  vision  of  ^cy  has  an 
infinite  series  of  delightful  views, 
sometimes  breaking  into  the  bright 
opening  of  rapture,  and  sometimes 
lengthening  and  expanding  into 
the  luxuriant  extent  of  enjoyment. 
Every  pleasurable  impulse  of 
sense  urges  incipient  action  into 
the  execution  of  delight  ;  and 
every  great  passion  riots  in  indul- 
gence, more  rapturous  by  progres- 
sion, and  more  vacant  by  excess  ; 
not  forbidden  by  reason,  nor  tainted 
by  disgust.  He,  who  thus  gives^ 
himself  up  to  nature,  is  in  the 
brightness  and  purity  of  his  exist- 
ence. His  mind  philosophizes 
with  itself  in  the  loneliness  of 
meditation,  and  his  passions  re- 
ceive ordinance  from  the  solemn 
convention  of  philosophy  and  re- 
ligion. 

Human  nature,  thus  ennobled 
with  powers  so  sublime,  and  soft- 
ened with  sensibilities  so  delicate, 
each  qualified  with  capacities  of 
enjoyment,  extensive  as  the  sub- 
jects are  exhaustless,  must  indeed 
be  inveterate  against  its  own  hap- 
piness by  renouncing  the  experi^ 
ence  of  it.  We  too  niggardly  en- 
croach on  the  rights  of  intellect  in 
the  vain  enterprize  of  meliorating 
that,  which  is  already  essentially 
below  the  sttodard  of  human  dig- 
nity. Few  are  even  aware  of  the 
freedom  and  range  of  nature,  for 
half  mankind  come  into  the  world 
with  manacles  and  fetters.  With 
the  smile  of  slaves,  they  are  pleas- 
ed and  exult  with  the  freedom  of 
breath,  and  the  liberty  of  life. 
They  sicken  and  rot  within  the  im- 
palement of  a  city,  without  once 
brightening  their  eye  with  a  gleam 
of  pure  light,  or  refreshing  their 
lungs  with  the  balmy  inhalations 
of  pure  expanse.  There  is  a  fee? 
bleness  about  tbemi  wliich  is  np| 


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ftEMAEKEE. 


ssy 


the  relaxation  of  strength,  and  a 
languor,  which  is  not  the  repose  of 
enjoyment.  At  death  their  eye 
shuts  blankly  on  the  walls  of 
their  prison,  while  the  vision  of 
him,  who  has  communed  with  na- 
ture, slowly  fades  with  the  melan- 
choly dimness  of  things,  and  van- 
ishes with  their  departure. 

How  truly  inglorious  is  exist- 
ence, thus  drawn  out  by  the  con- 
dnual  motives  of  business,  and 
fretted  away  by  the  vain  anxieties 
of  city  life.  How  vacant  the  mind, 
without  the  intelligence  of  nature, 
and  how  spiritless  the  brain,  with- 
out the  thrills  of  her  emotions. 
He,  who  is  thus  kennelled  in  the 
city,  prefers  the  bustle  of  noisy 
nothingness  to  the  soothing  seren- 
ity of  country  life  ;  an  atmosphere 
darkened  with  tjie  dust  of  drudge- 
ry and  labour  to  the  blue  expanse, 
over  the  fresh  landscape  ;  the  jar- 
gon of  brokers,  and  the  brawlings 
and  heavings  of  ^^  fiat  and  greasy 
citizens"  to  the  sound  of  the  spring 
bird  at  evening,  or  the  broken 
soDg  of  the  peasant  on  his  door- 
stone.  To  all  the  exquisite  nice- 
ties and  delicacies  of  cultured  pro- 
duct, even  his  senses  are  blunt. 
He  had  rather  sit,  of  a  dog-day, 
with  four  and  twenty  trenchermen, 
**  big  and  burly,"  at  the  head  of  a 
table,  whose  loaded  extent  presents 
the  perspective  of  a  market  place, 
than  to  retire  to  the  cool  cell  in 
the  grove,  to  regale  himself  amid 
the  freshness  of  fruit,  and  the  ra- 
ciness  of  vegetables. 

On  the  contrary,  how  pleasantly 
and  how  naturally  flows  the  life  of 
hinn,  who  breathes  it  in  the  cool 
shades  of  silent  retirement,  his 
soul  expanding  with  the  pure  sen- 
timents, which  rural  imagery  in- 
spires ;  who  loves  to  stretch 
himself,  at  noon  day,  in  the  deep 
shade  of  the  mountain  brow,  and 
ibllow    the   huge  shadow  of  the 


dark  cloud,  as  it  sails  over  the 
plain,  deepening  the  luxuriance  of 
the  vallies,  and  reflecting  bright 
and  glaring  light  on  the  edges  of 
cliff's  and  precipices  ;  or  in  the 
stillness  of  a  summer's  evening, 
aside  the  old  oak  that  sighs  in  the 
night  breeze,  to  catch  the  bright 
forms  of  departed  friends  in  the 
white  cloiids,  which  wave  over  the 
moon. 

The  constant  action  of  thought 
in  retirement,  adds  another  charm 
to  it.  The  mind  here  is  not  loft 
merely  to  its  own  operation,  reason- 
ing on  subjects  of  its  own  sugges- 
tion, without  the -standard  of  per- 
ceptible truth  for  the  conclusion  of 
such  abstractions.  But  it  has  the 
constant  presentation  of  the  sub- 
lime experiment  of  universal  cause 
and  eflect,  free  from  the  anxieties 
of  chance,  and  unincumbered  witb 
the  ponderous  mass  of  human  fol- 
lies, prejudices,  and  absurdities. 
Its  acquisition  is  the  wisdom  of 
nature,  and  its  truth  is  that  certain- 
ty of  conclusion,  which  is  deduced 
from  determinate  causes,  invaria- 
bly efficient  of  consequential  ef- 
fects. 

There  is  yet  another  charm  in 
this  retreat  from  the  town,  and  the 
throng,  which  is  beyond  even  the 
fascination  of  poetry.  We  here 
feel,  that,  description  is  only 
imitative  of  nature,  and  we  turn 
from  the  transcription,  however 
charming  and  exact,  to  the  i^p- 
tures  of  the  original.  We  are  no 
longer  content  with  the  ideal  sym- 
pathy of  visionary  existence,  but 
we  extend  all  the  pleasures  of  fic- 
tion into  the  emotions  of  sensible 
truth.  In  the  presence  of  nature, 
even  the  minuteness  and  exacti- 
tude of  Cowper  is  indiscriminate 
and  unsatisfactory  ;  the  mellow  , 
luxuriance  of  Thomson  barren 
and  wasteful.  In  the  bright  ex- 
pansej  which  surrounds  her,  even 


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988 


MR.   ADAMS  S   ORATIOK. 


the  sublime  atid  transcendent  ge- 
nius of  Milton  flutters  with  dark 
and  heavy  wings,  near  the  earth, 
Tjut  faintly  tinged  with  the  celes- 
tial light,  and  rests  on  objects 
blasted  or  deformed.  Let  him  then, 


whose  soul  is  pure  and  holy  ^KVfh 
the  love  of  nature,  take  his  posi- 
tion in  the  midst  of  cre&tion,  and 
commence  the  mighty  work  of  th« 
eternal  perfection  of  thought. 


On  Thundaf,  the  iitb  of  thk  month,  the  Hon.  JOHN  <^  ADAMS,  wu  taxnguntei 
•1  the  firat  Boylston  Profleaior  of  Rhetorick  and  Oratoiy  at  Harvard  UnWenlty.  We  have  re- 
quested a  cop7  of  hb  inaugural  Oration  delivered  6n  that  occasion,  with  a  bdief,  that  Hs  perooi 
would  aflford  high  gratification  to  our  readers.  For  his  prompt  compliance  with  our  request,  wc 
beg  l«ve  to  tender  him  our  most  grateful  acknowledgements. 


AN    INAUGURAL    ORATION. 


BY    HON.   J.   q.    AOAMS« 


IT  is  the  fortune  of  some  opin- 
ions, as  well  as  of  some  individual 
characters,  to  have  been,  during  a 
long  succession  of  ages,  subjects 
of  continual  controversy  among 
mankind.  In  forming  an  estimate 
of  the  moral  or  intellectual  merits 
of  many  a  person,  whose  name  is 
recorded  in  the  volumes  of  histo- 
ry, their  virtues  and  vices  are  so 
nearly  balanced,  that  their  station 
in  the  ranks  of  fame  has  never  been 
precisely  assigned,  and  their  repu- 
tation,even  after  death,vibrates  upon 
the  hinges  of  events,  with  which 
they  have  little  or  no  perceptible 
connexion.  Such  too  has  been  the 
destiny  of  the  arts  and  sciences  in 
general,  and  of  the  art  of  rhetorick 
in  particular.  Their  advancement 
and  decline  have  been  alternate  in 
the  annals  of  the  world.  At  one 
period  they  have  been  cherished, 
admired,  and  cultivated  ;  at  ano- 
ther neglected,  despised,  and  op- 
pressed. Like  the  favourites  of 
princes,  they  have  had  their  turns 
of  unbounded  influence  and  of  ex- 
cessive degradation.  Now  the  en- 
thusiasm of  their  votaries  has  rais- 
ed them  to  the  pinnacle  of  great- 
ness ;    now  a  turn  of  th*  wheel 


has  hurled  them  prostrate  in  the 
dust.  Nor  have  these  great  and 
sudden  revolutions  always  resulted 
from  causes  seemingly  capable  of 
producing  such  effects.  At  one 
period,  the  barbarian  conqueror 
destroys,  at  another  he  adopts,  the 
aits  of  the  vanquished  people.  The 
Grecian  Muses  were  led  captirc 
and  in  chains  to  Rome.  Once 
there,  they  not  only  burst  asunder 
their  own  fetters,  but  soon  mount- 
ing the  triumphal  car,  rode  with 
supreme  ascendancy  over  their 
victors.  More  than  once  have  the 
Tartars,  after  carr}'ing  conquest 
and  desolation  over  the  empire  of 
China,  been  subdued  in  turn  by 
the  arts  of  the  nation,  they  had  en- 
slaved ;  as  if  by  a  wise  and  equi- 
table retribution  of  nature  the 
authors  of  violence  were  doom- 
ed to  be  overpowered  by  their 
own  prosperity,  and  to  find  in 
every  victory  the  seeds  of  de- 
feat. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  arts  and 
sciences,  at  the  hour  of  their  high- 
est exaltation,  have  been  often  re- 
proached and  insulted  by  thosc^  cmi 
whom  they  had  bestowed  their 
choicest  favours,  and  most  cruelly 


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MR.  ABAMS'S  ORATION. 


389 


tssaulted  by  the  weapons ,  which 
themselves  had  conferred.  At  the 
zenith  of  modem  civilization,  the 
palm  of  unanswered  eloquence  was 
awarded  to  the  writer,  who  main-* 
tained,  that  the  sciences  had  al- 
ways promoted  rather  the  misery , 
than  the  happiness  of  mankind  ; 
and  in  the  age  and  nation,  which 
heard  the  voice  of  Demosthenes, 
Socrates  has  been  represented  as 
triumphantly  demonstrating,  that 
rhetorick  cannot  be  dignified  with 
the  name  of  an  art  ;  that  it  is  but 
a  pernicious  practice... the  mere 
counterfeit  of  justice.  This  opin- 
ion has  had  its  followers  from  the 
days  of  Socrates  to  our  own,  and  it 
still  remains  an  inquiry  among 
men,  as  in  the  age  of  Plato  and 
in  that  of  Cicero,  whether  elo- 
quence is  an  art,  worthy  of  the  cul- 
tivation of  a  wise  and  virtuous  man. 
To  assist  us  in  bringing  the  mind 
to  a  satisfactory  result  of  this  in- 
quiry, it  is  proper  to  consider  the 
art,  as  well  in  its  nature,  as  in  its 
effects  ;  to  derive  our  inferences, 
not  merely  from  the  uses,  which 
have  been  made  of  it,  but  from 
the  pur]x>ses,  to  which  it  ought  to 
be  applied,  and  the  end,  which  it  is 
destined  to  answer. 
•  The  peculiar  and  highest  charac*- 
teristick,  which  distinguishes  man 
from  the  rest  of  the  animal  crea- 
tion, is  reason.  It  is  by  this  attri- 
bute, that  our  species  is  constitut- 
ed the  great  link  between  the  phy- 
sical and  intellectual  world.  By 
our  passions  and  appetites  we  are 
placed  on  a  level  with  the  herds  of 
of  the  forest  ;  by  our  reason  we 
participate  in  the  divine  nature  it- 
self :  formed  of  clay,  and  com- 
pounded of  dust,  we  are,  in  the 
scale  of  creation,  little  higher  than 
the  clod  of  the  valley  ;  endowed 
with  reason,we  are  little  lower  than 
the  angels.  It  is  by  the  gift  of 
reason,  that  the  human  species  en- 
Vol.  III.  No.  6.         2N 


joys  the  exclusive  and  inestimable 
privilege  of  progressive  improve- 
mcnt)  and  is  enabled  to  avail  itself 
of  the  advantages  of  individual^ dis- 
covery. As  the  necessary  adjunct 
and  vehicle  of  reason,  the  faculty 
of  speech  was  also  bestowed  as  an 
exclusive  privilege  upon  man  : 
not  the  mere  utterance  of  articu- 
late sounds  ;  not  the  mere  cries  of 
passion,  which  iie  has  in  common 
with  the  lower  orders  of  animated 
nature  :  but  as  the  conveyance  of 
thought  ;  as  the  means  of  rational 
intercourse  with  his  fellow-crea- 
ture, and  of  humble  communion 
with  his  God.  It  is  by  the  means 
of  reason,  clothed  with  speech,  that 
the  most  precious  blessings  of  so- 
cial life  are  communicated  fi*om 
man  to  man,  and  that  supplicaiion, 
thanksgiving,  and  praise  are  ad- 
dressed to  the  author  of  the  uni- 
verse. How  justly  tjien,  with  the 
great  dramatick  poet  may  we  ex- 
claim, 

■*  Sure,  he  that  made  us  with  such  iar^ 

discourse. 
Looking  before  and  after,  gave  us  not 
That  capability  and  God-like  reason 
To  rust  in  us,  unus'd.** 

A  faculty  thus  elevated,  given 
us  for  so  sublime  a  purpose,  and 
destined  to  an  end  so  excellent, 
was  not  intended 'by  the  supt-cine 
Creator  to  be  buried  in  the  grave 
of  neglect.  As  the  source  of  all 
human  improvements  it  was  itself 
susceptible  of  improvement  by  in- 
dustry and  application^  by  o1)scrv- 
ation  and  experience.  Hence, 
wherever  man  has  been  found  in 
a  social  state,  and  wherever  he 
has  been  sensible  of  his  depend- 
ance  upon  a  supreme  disposer  of 
events,  the  value  and  the  power  of 
publick  speaking,  if  not  universally 
acknowledged,  has_  at  least  beea 
universally  felt. 


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MR.  ADAMS  S   O&ATIOIV. 


For  the  truth  of  these  remarks 
let  m2  appeal  to  the  testimony  of 
history,  sacred  and  profane.  We 
shall  find  it  equally  clear  and  con- 
clusive from  the  earliest  of  her  re- 
cords, which  have  escaped  the  rav- 
a^jes  of  lime.  When  the  people 
of  God  were  groaning  under  the 
insupportable  oppressions  of  E* 
gyptian  bondage,  and  4Jie  Lord  of 
hosts  condescendtdby  mii*aculous 
interposition,  to  raise  them  up  a 
deliverer,  the  want  of  eloquence 
was  pleaded,  by  the  chosen  object 
of  his  ministry,  as  an  argument  of 
hh  incompetency  for  the  high  com- 
mission, with  which  he  was  to  be 
clfarged.  To  supply  this  deficien- 
cy, which,  even  in  the  communi- 
cation of  more  than  human  pow- 
ers, Eternal  Wisdom  had  not  seen 
fit  to  remove,  another  fisivoured 
servant  of  the  Most  High  was  uni- 
ted in  the  exalted  trust  of  deliver- 
ance, and  specially  appointed^  for 
the  purpose  of  declaring  the  divine 
will,  to  the  oppressor  and  the  op- 
pressed :  to  the  monarch  of  E- 
gypt  and  the  children  of  Israel. 
"  Is  not  Aaron  the  Levite  thy  bro- 
ther ?  I  know  that  he  can  a f teak 
well.  And  he  shall  be  thy  spokes- 
man unto  the  people  :  and  he  shall 
be,  even  he  shall  be  to  thee  in- 
stead of  a  mouth,  and  tliou  shalt 
be  to  him  instead  of  God."  It 
was  not  sufficient  for  the  beneficent 
purposes  of  divine  Providence  that 
the  shepherd  of  his  flock  should 
be  invested  with  the  power  of  per* 
forming  signs  and  wonders  to  au- 
thenticate his  mission,  and  com- 
mand obedience  to  his  words.... 
The  appropriate  instrument  to 
appal  the  heart  of  the  tyrant  upon 
his  throne,  and  to  control  the 
wayward  dispositions  of  the  people, 
was  an  eloquent  speaker  ;  and  the 
importance  of  the  duty  is  apparent 
in  the  distinction,  which  separated 
it  from  all.  the  other  transcendent 


gifts,  with  which  the  inspired 
leader  was  endowed,  and  commit*' 
ted  it  as  a  special  .charge  to  his 
associate.  Nor  will  it  escape  your 
observation,  that  when  the  first 
great  object  of  tlicir  joint  Tiussion 
was  accomplished,  and  the  sacred 
system  of  k\ws  and  polity  for  the 
emancipated  nation  was  delivered 
by  the  voice  of  heaven  from  the 
holy  mountain,  the  same  eloquent 
Bficaker  was  separated  from  amon^ 
tlie  children  of  Israel,  to  minister 
in  the  priest's  office  ;  to  bear  the 
iniquity  of  their  holy  things  ;  Xm 
offer  up  to  God,  their  creator  and«» 
preserver^  the  publick  tribute  of 
their  social  adoration. 

In  the  fables  of  Greece  and 
Egypt  the  importance  of  eloquence 
is  attested  by  the  belief,  that  the 
art  of  publidc  speaking  was  of 
celestial  origin,  ascribed  to  the  in* 
vention  of  a  God,  who,  from  the 
possession  of  this  faculty,  was  sup* 
posed  to  be  the  messenger  and 
interpreter  of  Olympus.  It  is  at- 
tested by  the  solicitude,  with  which 
the  art  was  cultivated  at  a  peri*  f 
od  of  the  remotest  antiquity^ 
With  the  first  glimpse  of  histor* 
ical  truth,  which  bursts  from  the 
oriental  regions  of  mythological 
romance,  in  that  feeble  and  du- 
bious twilight,  which  scarcely  dis- 
cerns the  distinction  between  the 
fictions  of  pagan  superstition  and 
the  narrative  of  real  events,  m 
school  of  rhetorick  and  oratoryi 
established  in  the  ^eloponoesuSf 
dawns  upon  our  view.  After  the 
lapse  of  a  thousand  years  from 
that  time,  Pausanias,  a  Grecian 
geographer  and  historian,  explicit- 
ly asserts,  that  he  had  read  a 
treatise  upon  the  art,  composed  by 
the  founder  of  thb  school,  a  co- 
temporary  and  rdative  of  Theseus 
in  the  age  preceding  that  of  the 
Trojan  war.  The  poems  of  Ho- 
mer aboimd  with  stUl  more  ded'* 


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UK.  ABA.M»'S  ORATIOir. 


291 


myt  proof*  ef  the  estimation,  in 
which  the  powers  of  oratory  were 
held,  and  of  the  attention,  with 
which  it  was  honoured  as  an  essen- 
tial object  of  instruction  in  the 
education  of  youth. 

From  that  aera,  through  the  long 
series  of  Greek  and  Roman  history 
^wn  to  the  gloom  of  universal 
iught,in  which  the  glories  of  theRo- 
man  empire  expired,  the  triumphs 
and  the  splendour  of  eloquence  are 
multiplied  and  conspicuous.  Then 
it  was,  that  the  practice  of  the  art 
attsuned  a  perfection  ever  since 
unrivalled,  and  to  which  all  suc- 
ceeding Umes  have  listened  with 
admiration  and  despair.  At  Ath- 
ens and  Rome  a  town-meeting 
could  scarcely  be  held,  without 
l>eing  destined  to  immortality  ; 
a  question  of  property  between 
individual  citizens  could  scarcely 
be  litigated,  without  occupying  the 
attention,  and  engaging  the  studies 
of  the  remotest  nations  and  the 
most  distant  posterity. 

There  is  always  a  certain  corres- 
pondence and  proportion  between 
the  estimation  in  which  an  art  is 
held,  and  the  effects  which  it  produ- 
ces. In  the  flourishing  periods  of 
Athens  and  Rome  eloquence  Was 
powert  It  was  at  once  the  instru- 
ment, and  the  spur  to  ambition.  The 
talent  of  publick  speaking  was  the 
key  to  the  highest  dignities  ;  the 
passport  to  the  supreme  dominion 
of  the  state.  The  rod  of  Hermes 
was  the  sceptre  of  empire  :  the 
voice  of  oratory  was  the  thunder 
of  Jupiter.  The  most  powerful 
pf  human  passions  was  enlisted  in 
the  cause  of  eloquence,  and  elo- 
quence in  return  was  the  most  ef- 
fectual auxiliary  to  the  passions. 
In  proportion  to  the  wonders  she 
atchieved,  was  the  eagerness  to 
acquire  the  &culties  of  this  mighty 
magician.  Oratory  was  taught  as 
th^   occupation  of  a  life.     The 


course  of  instruction  commenced 
with  the  infant  in  the  cradle  and 
continued  to  the  meridian  of  man- 
hood. It  \vas  made  the  funda- 
mental object  of  education,  and 
every  other  part  of  instniciion  for 
childhood  and  of  discipline  for 
youth  was  bent  to  its  accommo- 
dation. Arts,  science,  lelters, 
were  to  be  thoroughly  studied  and 
investigated,  upon  the  maxim, tHat 
an  orator  must  be  a  man  of  uni- 
versal kno^vledge.  Moral  duties 
were  inculcated,  because  none  but 
a  good  man  could  be  en  orator. 
Wisdom,  learning,  Virtue  herself 
were  estimated  by  their  subservi- 
ency to  the  purposes  of  eloquence, 
and  the  whole  duty  of  man  con- 
sisted in  making  himself  an  ac- 
complished publick  speaker. 

With  the  dissolution  of  Roman 
liberty,  and  the  decline  of  Roman 
ta^te,  the  reputation  and  the  excel- 
lency of  the  oratorical  art  fell  alike 
into  decay.  Under  the  despotism 
of  the  Csesars,  the  end  of  eloquence 
was  perverted  from  persuasion  to 
panegyrick,  and  all  her  faculties 
were  soon  palsied  by  the  touch  of 
corruption,  or  enenated  by  the 
impotence  of  servitude.  Then  suc- 
ceeded the  midnight  of  the  monk- 
ish ages,  when  with  the  other  lib- 
eral arts  she  slumbered  in  the  pro- 
found darknesMf  the  cloister. 

At  the  revival  of  letters  in  modem 
Europe,  eloquence,  together  with 
her  sister  muses  awoke,  and  shook 
the  poppies  from  her  brow.  But 
their  torpQi'#  still  tingled  in  her 
veins.  In  the  interval,  her  voice 
was  gone;  her  favourite  languages 
were  extinct ;  her  organs  were  no 
longer  attuned  to  harmony,  and 
her  hearers  could  no  longer  under- 
stand her  speech.  The  discordant 
jargon  of  feudal  anarchy  had  ban- 
ished the  musicamalects,  in  which 
she  had  always  delighted.  The 
theatres  of  her  former  triumphs 


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292 


MR.   ADAMS's  ORATIttK. 


were  either  deserted,  or  they  were 
filled  with  the  babblers  of  sophist- 
ry and  chicane.  She  shnink  intu- 
itively from  the  forum,  for  the  last 
object  she  remembered  to  have 
seen  there,  was  the  head  of  her 
darling  Cicero,  planted  upon  the 
rostrum.  She  ascended  the  tribu- 
nals of  justice  ;  there  she  found 
her  child,  Persuasion,  manacled 
and  pinioned  by  the  letter  of  the 
law  ;  there  she  beheld  an  image 
of  herself,  stammering  in  barbar- 
ous Latin,  and  staggering  under 
the  lumber  of  a  thousand  volumes. 
Her  heart  fainted  within  her  :  she 
lost  all  confidence  in  herself :  to- 
gether with  her  irresistible  powers, 
she  lost  proportionably  the  consid- 
eration of  the  world,  until,  instead 
of  comprizing  the  whole  system 
of  publick  education,  she  found 
herself  excluded  from  the  circle  of 
sciences,  and  declared  an  outlaw 
from  the  realms  of  learning.  She 
was  not,  however,  doomed  to  eter- 
nal silence.  With  the  progress 
of  freedom  and  of  liberal  sc:.  nee 
in  various  parts  of  modem  Europe, 
she  obtained  access  to  mingle  in 
the  deliberations  of  their  parlia- 
ments. With  labour  and  difficul- 
ty she  learned  their  languages, 
and  lent  her  aid  in  giving  them 
•  form  and  polish.  But  she  has 
never  recovered  the  graces  of  her 
former  beauty,  nor  the  energies  of 
her  ancient  vigour.  The  immea- 
surable superiority  of  ancient  over 
modern  oratory  is  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  circumstances,  which 
offer  themselves  to  the  scrutiny  of 
reflecting  minds,  and  it  is  in  the 
languages,  (lie  institutions,  and  the 
manners  of  modern  Europe,  that 
the  solution  of  a  phenomenon,  so 
extraordinary,mustbe  sought.  The 
assemblies  of  ^  people,  of  the 
select  councils,  ot  of  the  senate  in 
Athens  and  Rome  were  held  for  the 
purpose  of  real  delibiiration.     The 


fate  of  measures  \f  as  not  decided 
before  they  were  proposed.  Elo- 
quence produced  a  powerful  ef- 
fect, not  only  upon  the  minds  of 
the  hearers,  but  upon  the  issue  of 
the  deliberation.  In  the  .only 
countries  of  modem  Europe,where 
the  semblance  of  deliberative  as- 
semblies has  been  preserved,  cor- 
ruption, here  in  the  form  of  exec- 
utive influence,  there  in  the  guise 
of  party  spirit,  by  introducing  a 
more  compendious  mode  of  secu- 
ring decisions,  has  crippled  the 
sublimest  efforts  of  oratory,  and 
the  votes  upon  questions  of  mag- 
nitude to  the  interest  of  nations 
are  all  told,  long  before  the  ques- 
tions themselves  are  submitted  to 
discussion.  Hence  those  nations, 
which  for  ages  have  gloried  in  the 
devotion  to  literature,  science,  and 
the  arts,  have  never  been  able  to 
exhibit  a  specimen  of  deliberative 
oratory,  that  can  bear  a  comparison 
with  those,  transmitted  down  to  us 
from  antiquity. 

Religion  indeed  has  opened  one 
new  avenue  to  the  career  of  elo- 
quence. Amidst  the  sacrifices  of 
paganism  to  her  three  hundred 
thousand  gods,  amidst  her  saga- 
cious and  solemn  consultations  in 
the  entrails  of  slaughtered  Brutes, 
in  the  flight  of  birds,  and  the  feed- 
ing of  fowls,  it  had  never  entered 
her  imagination  to  call  upon  the 
pontiff,  the  haruspex,  or  the  augur, 
for  discourses  to  the  people,  upon 
the  nature  of  their  duties  to  their 
maker,  their  fellow-mortals,  and 
themselves.  This  was  an  idea  too 
aug\ist  to  be  mingled  with  the  ab- 
surd and  ridiculous,  or  profligate 
and  barbarous  rites  of  her  deplora- 
ble superstition.  It  is  an  institu- 
tion for  which  mankind  are  in- 
debted to  Christianity  ;  introduced 
by  the  Founder  himself  of  this  di- 
vine religion,  and  in  every  point  of 
view  worthy  of  its  high  original. 


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MK.    AOAMS'S  ORATION. 


295 


Its  effects  have  been  to  soften  the 
tempers  and  purify  the  morals  of 
mankind  ;  not  in  so  high  a  degree 
ms  benevolence  could  >vish,  but  e- 
nough  to  call  forth  our  strains  of 
warmest  gratitude  to  that  good 
being,  who  provides  us  with  the 
means  of  promoting  our  own  fe- 
licity, and  gives  us  power  to  stand, 
though  leaving  us  free  to  fall.  Here 
then  is  an  unbounded  and  inex- 
haustible field  for  eloquence,  never 
explored  by  the  ancient  orators, 
and  here  alone  have  the  modern 
Europeans  cultivated  the  art  with 
much  success.  In  vain  should  we 
enter  the  halls  of  justice,  in  vain 
should  we  listen  to  the  debates  of 
senates  for  strains  of  oratory  wor- 
thy of  remembrance,  beyond  the 
duration  of  the  occasion  which 
called  them  forth.  The  art  of 
embalming  thought  by  oratory, 
like  that  of  embalming  bodies  by 
aromaticks,  would  have  perished 
but  for  the  exercises  of  religion. 
These  alone  have  in  the  latter  ages 
furnished  discourses,which  remind 
us,  that  eloquence  is  yet  a  faculty 
of  the  human  mind. 

Among  the  causes,  which  have 
contributed  thus  to  depress  the 
oratory  of  modem  times,  must  be 
numbered  the  indifference,  with 
which  it  has  been  treated,  as  an  ar- 
ticle of  education.  The  ancients 
had  fostered  an  opinion,  that  this 
talent  was  in  a  more  than  usual 
degree  the  creature  of  discipline  ; 
and  it  is  one  of  the  maxims,  hand- 
ed down  to  us  as  the  result  of  their 
experience,  that  men  must  be 
bom  to  poetry  and  bred  to  elo- 
quence :  that  the  bard  is  always, 
the  child  of  nature,  and  the  orator 
always  the  issue  of  instruction. 
This  doctrine  seems  to  be  not  en- 
tirely without  foundation,  but  was 
by  them  carried  in  both  its  parts 
lo  an  extravagant  excess. 


The  foundations  for  the  orator- 
ical talent,  as  well  as  those  of  the 
poetical  faculty,  must  be  laid  in  the 
bounties  of  nature  ;  and  as  theMusc . 
in  Homer,  impartial  in  her  distri- 
bution of  good  and  evil,  struck  the 
bard  with  blindness,  when  she  gave 
him  the  powers  of  song,  her  Sis- 
ter not  un frequently,  by  a  like  mix- 
ture of  tenderness  and  rigour,  be- 
stows the  blessing  of  wisdom,whiIe 
she  refuses  the  readiness  of  utter- 
ance. Without  entering  however 
into  a  disquisition,  which  would 
lead  me  far  beyond  the  limits  of 
this  occasion,  I  may  remark,  that 
the  modem  Europeans  have  run 
into  the  adverse  extreme,  and  ap- 
pear, during  a  considerable  period, 
in  their  system  of  publick  educa- 
tion, to  have  passed  upon  elo- 
quence a  sentence  of  proscription. 
Even  when  they  studied  Ehctorick 
as  a  theory,  they  nej^lected  Oratory 
as  an  art  ;  and  while  assiduously 
unfolding  to  their  pupils  the  bright 
displays  of  Greek  and  Roman  elo- 
quence, they  nev^  attempted  to 
make  them  eloquent  themselves. 
Of  the  prevailing  indifference  to 
this  department  of  human  learning, 
no  stronger  evidence  could  be  of- 
fered, than  the  circumstances  un- 
der which  we  are  assembled. 

Nearly  two  centuries  have  elap- 
sed since  the  foundation  of  this 
university.  There  never  existed 
a  people  more  anxious  to  bestow 
upon  their  children  the  advantages 
of  education,  than  our  venerable 
forefathers ;  and  the  name  of  Har- 
vard is  coeval  with  the  first  settle- 
ment of  New-England.  Their 
immediate  and  remote  descendants 
down  to  this  day  have  inherited 
and  transmitted  the  same  laudable 
ardour,  and  numerous  foundations 
of  various  kinds  attest  their  attach- 
ment to  science  and  literature  : 
yet  so  far  have  rhetorick  and  ora- 


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Km.  ADAMS'S  OHATIOV. 


torj  been  from  enjoying  a  pre-em- 
inence in  their  system  of  educa-> 
tbn,  that  they  are  now,  for  the 
first  time,  made  a  separate  branch 
of  instruction  ;  and  I  stand  hexp  to 
assume  the  duties  of  the  first  in- 
structor. The  establishment  of 
«n  institution  for  the  purpose  was 
reserved  to  the  nameof  Botlstok  » 
%  name,  which,  if  publick  benefits 
can  impart  a  title  to  remembrance, 
New-England  will  not  easily  for- 
get :  a  name,  to  the  benevolence, 
publick  spirit,  and  genuine  patriot- 
ism of  which,  this  university,  the 
neighbouring  metropolis,  and  this 
whole  nation  have  long  had,  and 
«till  have,  many  reasons  to  attest : 
a  name,  less  distinguished  by  sta- 
tions of  splendour,  than  by  deeds  of 
virtue  ;  and  better  known  to  this 
people  by  blessings  enjoyed,  than 
by  favours  granted :  a  name  in 
fine,  which,  if  >  not  encircled  with 
the  external  radiance  of  popularity, 
beams,  brightly  beams,  with  the 
inward  lustre  of  beneficence.  The 
institution  itself  is  not  of  a  recent 
date.  One  generation  of  mankind, 
according  to  the  usual  estimates  of 
human  life,  has  gone  by,  since  the 
donation  of  Nicholas  Boylston  con- 
stituted the  fund  for  the  support 
pf  this  professorship.  The  mis- 
fortunes which  befel  the  university, 
unavoidably  consequent  upon  our 
revolution,  and  various  other  caus* 
es,  have  concurred  in  delaying  the 
execution  of  his  intentions  until 
the  present  time  ;  and  evep  now 
they  have  the  prospect  of  little 
more  than  honest  zeal  for  th(;ir 
^complishment. 
"In  reflecting  upon  the  nature 
pf  the  duties  I  undertake,  a  con- 
sciousness of  deficiency  for  the 
task  of  their  performance,  dwells 
^pon  my  mind  ;  which,  howev- 
er ungraciously  \t  may  come 
from  my  lips,  after  accepting  the 
ftppointment   ^ith    which    I   am 


honoured,  I  yet  cannot  forbetf 
to  expresss.  Though  the  course 
of  my  life  has  led  me  to  wit- 
ness the  practice  of  this  art  in 
various  forms,  and  though  its  the- 
ory has  sometimes  attracted  my 
attention,  yet  my  acquaintance 
with  both  has  been  df  a  general 
nature  ;  and  I  can  presume  neither 
to  a  profoimd  investigation  of  the 
one,  nor  an  extensive  experience 
of  the  other.  The  habits  of  in- 
struction too,  are  not  fiimiliar  to 
me  ;  and  they  constitute  an  art  of 
little  less  difikulty  and  delicacy, 
than  that  of  oratory  itself :  yet 
as  the  career  must  necessarily  be 
new  by  whomsoever  it  should  here 
be  explored,  and  as  it  leads  to  a 
course  of  pleasing  speculations 
and  studies,  I  shall  rely  upon  the 
indulgence  of  the  friends  and  pat<* 
rons  to  this  seminary,  towards 
well-meant  endeavours,  and  as- 
sume with  difiidence  the  discharge 
of  the  functions  allotted  to  the  in- 
stitution. In  the  theory  of  the 
art,  and  the  principles  of  expo- 
sition, novelty  will  not  be  ex-> 
pected  ;  nor  is  it  perhaps  to  b^ 
desired.  A  subject,  which  has 
exhausted  the  genius  of  Aristotle, 
Cicero,  and  Quintilian,  can  neither 
require  nor  admit  much  additional 
illustration.  To  select,  combine, 
and  apply  their  precepts,  is  the 
only  duty  left  for  their  followers 
of  all  succeeding  times,  and  to 
obtain  a  perfect  familiaiity  with 
their  instructions,  is  to  arrive  at 
the  mastery  of  the  art.  For  effect- 
ing this  purpose,  the  teacher  can 
do  little  more  than  second  the 
ardour  and  assiduity  of  the  scholar. 
In  the  generous  thirst  for  useful 
knowledge,  in  the  honourable 
emulation  of  excellence,  which 
distinguishes  the  students  of  this 
university,  I  trust.to  find  an  apol- 
ogy for  the  deficiencies  of  the  lec<« 
turer.    The  richness  of  the  soU 


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MR.  Adams's  omATioir. 


59i 


inll  compensate  for  the  unskilful- 
ness  of  the  tillage. 

Sons  of  Harvard  !  you  who 
are  ascending  with  painful  step 
and  persevering  toil  the  emi- 
nence of  science  to  prepare 
yourselves  for  the  various  func- 
tions and  employments  of  the 
world  before  you,  it  cannot  be 
necessary  to  urge  upon  you  the 
importance  of  the  art,  concerning 
which  I  am  speaking.  Is  it  the 
purpose  of  your  future  life  to  min- 
ister in  the  temples  of  Almighty 
God,  to  be  the  messenger  of 
heaven  upon  earth,  to  enlighten 
with  the  torch  of  eternal  truth  the 
path  of  your  fellow-mortals  to 
brighter  worlds  ?  remember  the 
reason  assigned  for  the  appointment 
of  Aaron  to  that  ministry,  which 
you  purpose  to  assume  upon 
yourself..../  know  that  he  can 
ifieak  vfell  ;  and,  in  this  testi- 
monial of  Omnipotence,  receive 
the  injunction  of  your  duty.  Is 
your  intention  to  devote  the  la-^ 
hours  of  your  maturity  to  the 
cause  of  justice  ;  to  defend  the 
persons^  the  property,  and  the  fame 
of  your  fellow  citizens  from  the 
open  assaults  of  violence,  and  the 
secret  encroachments  of  fraud  ? 
fill  the  fountains  of  your  eloquence 
from  inexhaustible  sources,  that 
their  streams,'  when  they  shall  be- 
gin to  flow,  may  themselves  prove 
inexhaustible.  Is  there  among 
you  a  youtli,  whose  bosom  bums 
with  the  fires  of  honourable  am- 
bition ;  who  aspires  to  immortal- 
ise his  name  by  the  extent  and 


importance  of  his  services  to  his 
country  ;  whose  visions  of  futurity 
glow  with  the  hope  of  presiding 
in  her  councils,  of  directing  her 
affairs,  of  appearing  to  future  ages 
on  the  rolls  of  fame,  as  her  oma* 
ment  and  pride  ?  let  him  catch 
from  the  relicks  of  ancient  oratory 
those  im resisted  powers,  which 
mould  the  mind  of  man  to  the 
will  of  the  speaker,  and  yield  the 
the  guidance  of  a  nation  to  the 
dominion  of  the  voice. 

Under  governments  purely  re* 
publican,  where  every  citizen  has 
a  deep  interest  in  the  affairs  of  the 
nation,and  in  some  form  of  publick 
assembly  or  other,  has  the  means 
and  opportunity  of  delivering  his 
opinions,  and  of  communicating 
his  sentiments  by  speech  ;  where 
government  itself  has  no  arms  but 
those  of  persuasion  ;  where  pre- 
judice has  not  acquired  an  uncon- 
troled  ascendency,  and  faction  is 
yet  confined  within  the  barriers  of 
peace,  the  voice  of  eloquence  will 
not  be  heard  in  vain.  March  then 
with  firm,  with  steady,  witli  unde- 
viating  step,  to  the  prize  of  your 
high  calling.  Gather  fragrance 
from  the  whole  paradise  of  sciencCf 
and  learn  to  distil  from  your  lips 
all  the  honies  of  persuasion.  Con- 
secrate, above  all,  the  faculties  of 
your  life  to  the  cause  of  truth,  of 
freedom,  and  of  humanity.  Sa 
shall  your  country  ever  gladden  at 
the  sound  of  your  voice,  and  eve- 
ry talent,  added  to  your  accom* 
plishments,  become  another  bles- 
sing to  mankind. 


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396 


LIFE  OF   BElfTLET* 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD   BENTLEY,  D.  D. 

Late  Regius   Prqfetaor   of  Divinity^  and   Master  of   Trinity    ColfegCf 
Cambridge^  England, 

FLATO,  de  Lcc».  IT. 

Continued  from  page  243. 

The  life  of  a  literary  man  seldom 
furnishes  the  variety  of  incidents 
which  enlivens  narration,  and  ren- 
ders biography  entertaining.  How- 
ever useful  the  labours  of  the 
learned,  their  lives  are  generally 
spent  in  their  libraries,  and  a  cata- 
logue of  their  works  frequently 
forms  their  history.  This,  how- 
ever, was  not  wholly  the  case  with 
Dr.  Bentley.  His  days  were  not 
consumed  merely  in  classical  stu- 
dies, or  in  literary  pursuits.  Soon 
after  the  republication  of  his  an- 
swer to  Boyle,  in  the  year  1 700, 
he  was  presented  by  the  Crown  to 
the  Mastership  of  Trinity  College, 
Cambridge,  which  was  then  vacant 
by  the  death  of  Dr.  Montague. 
This  proof  of  royal  favour  render- 
ed it  necessary  for  him  to  allot  a 
considerable  portion  of  his  time  to 
business,  and  to  the  affairs  of  the 
university.  He  now  resigned  the 
prebendary  of  Worcester  ;  but  on 
June  12,  1701,  he  was  collated 
archdeacon  of  Ely. 
'  In  1706,  Julius  Pollux  was  pub- 
lished, under  the  direction  of  Hem- 
sterhuis,  who  wrote  the  preface, 
and  the  notes  to  the  three  last 
books.  This  work  was  begun  by 
Lederlin,  and  what  was  left  unfin- 
ished he  completed.  Hemster- 
huis,at  tliis  time,  was  a  very  young 
man,  but  by  this  performance  he 
acquired  considerable  reputation. 
Bentley  Was  much  pleased  with  so 
early  a  display  of  Greek  erudition, 
and  in  a  letter  to  him,  communi- 
cated his  corrections  of  the  passa- 
ges of  tiie  comick  writers,  whkh 


Pollux  had  quoted.  The  circum- 
stance is  related  very  particulavly 
in  Ruhnkenrus's  Elogium  Tiberii 
Hemsterhusii, 

"  When  the  learned  Lederlin 
declined  "Completing  the  edition  of 
Julius  Pollux,  which  was  prepar- 
ing at  Amsterdam,  application  wus 
made  to  Hemsterhuis,  whose  eru- 
dition was  supposed  equal  to  the 
undertaking.  Instigated  by  the 
advice  of  Grevius,  he  assumed  the 
charge  of  this  work,' and  hb  anno- 
tations, which,  though  youthM» 
were  the  production  of  suchta 
youth  as  He msterhuis,  immediate- 
ly turned  the  eyes  of  all  the  learn- 
ed towards  their  author. 

*'  At  such  an  age,few  Fnters  re- 
gard their  own  productions  with  con- 
tempt. He  was  sufficiently  pleas^ 
ed  with  the  performance.  A  short 
time,  however,  after  the  publica- 
tion of  the  work,  he  received  a  let- 
ter from  Richard  Bentley,  the  A- 
ristarchus  of  Britain,  in  which  his 
labours  with  regard  to  Pollux  were 
mentioned  in  terms  of  high  com- 
mendation. In  the  same  pacq\|et 
also,  the  doctor  inserted  his  own 
corrections  of  the  passages,  which 
Pollux  had  quoted  from  the  coqi- 
ick  writers,  to  illustrate  and  estab- 
lish his  descriptions. 

<*  Hemsterhuis  himself  had  bc- 
towed  great  attention  on  these  ci- 
tations, as  he  well  knew  their  con- 
sequence.. When  he  perused 
Bentley's  animadversions,  he  per- 
ceived that  every  difficulty  was  ex- 
plained, as  if  by  inspiration,  and 
was  convinced)  that  his  own  time 


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iOMM  Of  JiSHTt^lk 


nt 


had  b^ca  qient  in  vidii,  ai^  tba 
}us  own  conjectures  were  frivolous. 

«  What  effect  did  this  letter  pro- 
duce I  Hemsterhuis  was  so  much^ 
burt»  and  so  much  displeased  with, 
bimseli^  that  he  determined  to  a-% 
bandon  wholly  the  study  of  Greek 
literature  ;  iad  for  some  moatha 
lie  did  not  dare  to  open  the  works 
of  an  author  in  that  language." 

Ruhnkenius  then  bestows  very 
just  encomiums  upon  him»  Bx  the 
oandour  and  openness  with  which 
lie  used  to  retote  this  story  to  his 
acholars^  and  in  conTsrsation.  Me 
Ihos  proceeds  : 

^  Uemsterhuist  howevery  when 
lefiectioa  succeeded  vexaticmf  per- 
c^ved  that  be  had  impiopcrly 
j^laced  his  abilitiea»  young  as  he 
waa»  in  competition  with  those  of 
a  veteran  crttick,  who  hdd  the 
highest  rank  ;  and  wsss  soon  rec** 
onciied  to  htmselfy  and  to  his  for- 
mer studies.  So  powerfiily  how* 
aver,  was  the  effect  of  Bentley's 
advice^  that  he  determined  not  to 
trast  himself  in  the  dangerous 
paths  of  conjecture  or  criticism^ 
until  he  had  stored  his  mind 
with  a  comprehenaiye  knowledge 
of  every  various  art  and  science. 
He  chose  his  counseUor^  as  the 
great  object  of  his  imitation.  He 
looked  up  to  him  with  the  fondest 
admiration  :  placed  him  contin* 
ually  before  his  eyes  ;  and  prefer- 
fed  him  to  every  other  critick. 
Nor  did  he  conceal  hu  resentment, 
i^  in  his  presence,  the  envious 
carped  at  the  wonderful  talents  of 
this  great  man,  at  which  they 
could  not  possibly  arrive." 

In  the  year  1709,  when  Davis 
published  Cicero's  TMCuianm 
Qu^9Ucne9y  Dr.  Bentley  added  his 
annotations  to  the  edition.  But  on 
account  of  some  refltxtioDs  which 
kave  been  represented  as  not  very 
tt>eral,  when  this  work  was  repub* 
Ifehed,  Davb  omitted  the  doCtor^i 

VoLULNo.6.    SO 


oemarks.  They  were,  however^ 
again  inserted,  when  the  book  was 
reprinted  in  1738. 

From  the  Amsterdam  press,  in 
1710,  was  published  Kuster's  edi- 
tion of  Aristophanes.  Two  of  the 
plays  were  enriched  with  the  an* 
notations  of  Bfentley  ;  which  are 
not  very  elaborate,  but  in  many 
instances  discover  that  acumen 
and  penetration,  which  character- 
ises his  critical  diaquisitioos. 
-.Daring  this  period,  Le  Clerc 
ranked  among  the  first  literary 
characters.  He  had  distinguished 
himself  by  publishing  editions  of 
tome  classical  writers,  particular-* 
ly  Hettod,  with  notes  and  a  Latin 
tranaktion.  His  theological  re- 
•carche^  though  he  is  sometimes 
toe  daring,  had  greatly  increased 
his  rittng  reputation ;  and  his  Art 
of  Criticism,  written  in  Latin,  had 
been  itiueh  commended.  His  jS- 
fiuUoU  critk^y  to  some  of  out  bish- 
ops, and  the  active  part,  which  he 
was  supposed  to  take  in  some  of 
tibe  £n*eign  journals,  had  rendered 
his  abilities  as  an  author  very  gen- 
erally known  in  Enf^land.  In 
such  high  estimation,  indeed,  waa 
he  held  by  lord  Hallifax,  that  he 
employed  his  interest  with  some 
of  the  nobility,  and  men  in  power, 
in  hi»  favour.  His  chief  wish  was^ 
that  some  considerable  church  pre*^ 
ferment,  and  even  a  bishoprickf 
ndght  be  offered  to  Le  Clerc,  in 
order  to  allure  him  to  come  and 
settle  near  our  metropolis. 

The  l^hops  did  not  approve 
this  design.  They  all  esteemed 
him  for  his  learning  and  abilities* 
but  as  his  principles  were  known 
to  be  not  very  orthodox,  and  liia 
opinions  very  fi*ee,  they  op*^ 
posed  die  measure.  The  oppo- 
siiion  reflects  great  credit  on  the 
bench,  as,  by  several  article  in  hia 
Bibliothequcj  be  had  disseminsted 
iImv  poiaon  of  free-thinkii^  over 


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sds 


«»*•  99  ^as«4UM^ 


the  condneot^'byr'ttis' accomit'of 
•everAl  Englhh  ptlblicatioos. 

While  the  invitation  to  Le  C\trc 
was  a  general  subjci:t  of  conTersa- 
tion,  be  ptil^isheci  the  fraj^rufents 
of  Mciiander  ant)  PhtlemoB,  hi  one 
octavo  volume^t  Amsterdam,  170^, 

Soon  after,  the  intentioiv  ot'  kird' 
Halhfax  was  mentioned,  at  »r<5h- 
bishop  Tenni?*3n's,  while  licntley 
and  some  other  men  of  leaminj^ 
Were  pi^sent.  Le  Clcrc^s  title  toi 
tiic  proffered  honours  was  exam- 
ined :  hii  HteraFy  character  ^^mb 
disciHsed  ;  amon^  them  the  late 
publication  of  the  fna^jfments  oCthfr 
two  comick  writem  wa»of  cotira^ 
included.  Bemlef  asearted  imime- 
diately,  thftt  siKh  an  edition  was  a 
disp:race  to  a  scholar,  and  that^'it 
was  replete  with  glanng  erroura*  • 

The  company  instamt^y  iffged 
the  doctor  to  attack  it ;  but  ^he  de- 
<^Hned  the  taak,  as  he  had  long 
held  a  correspondence  with  Le 
Clerc.  Ac  len^,  however,  the 
insttgfations  of  his  friend*  prevail- 
edrand  he  tdd  them  that  he  wouM 
soon  convince  the  worldi  ttet  the 
atithorof  jira  Crkica  did  notpos-- 
aess  that  depth  of  erudition^  which 
had  been  ascribed  to  'him  by  the 
generality  of  readers. 
.  Bentley  soon  completed  his  de*- 
sign  ;  on  account,  howefrer^  of  his 
fbrmer intimacy  with  Le  Cloif:,  he 
wished  his  name  to  be  concord. 
He,  therefore^  styled  hiraaeli;  ia 
t^  title*pafe,  Philehitheivs  Lip- 
siensis  ;  and  intrusted  tlie  mam»i' 
•criptto  Ifare,  with  whom  he  then 
fiaed  in  habils  of  the  greatest  iati* 
nacy*  By  his  interest^  as  he  was 
chaplsdn  geneml  to  the;  army,  the 
iMOk  was  to  be  transmitted  in  the 
dcike  oi^MarttM>xt>Qgh's>pa<tq[iietto 
Bunnan,  \vith  «  note,  ^siring'  Mm 
€0  publish  it^Jtnd^gmag' him  liber* 
ty  to  ivnto^ekber  a  d^cationf  or 
a  prefacet'«9  he  ielt  hicliBed. 
A  Hat^  diaclMPB^ad.  thttj«ffi^e^«8 
he  supposed,  with  ^eat  secresy 


md  ^cBctaess.  t .  Bf  some  tinae-^ 
countable  bhmder^  however,  the 
papers  were  never  put  into  the 
duke^s  pacqnet ;  but  after  they 
had  passed  Utrough  several  hands, 
a  Bui^gnmiBter  at  Austcrdam  bf 
accident  received  the  manuscript* 
Me  imonettictely  shewed  it  to  10* 
laikd^  who  was  then  ia  'UolSand. 
He  directly  pronounced  tbeiQOte» 
ti»  be  the  productiDu  of  Bentkyy 
and,  pnobably)  by  kicaTinBaiis  thef 
wove  aiterwarda  cannreyecl  eotiiv 
xa  Pater  Burman,  with  nhe  disea-' 
tioa  which  consigned  them  to  hia 
care,  and  recommended.to  him  the 
officer  of  pmblisher. 

My^  ikiranan,  accacdiBglyf  these 
reflutks  were  edited,  with  a  kmg^ 
preftcevand  ait  address,  in  Latm 
verse,  to  the^  mama  of>  Menamkr 
and  FhiAeiiioB.  The  pre&ce  is 
written  in  a  straki  of  tbeiBDSt  viru* 
lent  a])use  against  LeCiero,  who 
was  his  bitter  ^etiemy.  To  the  re« 
marks  of  Bentey,?it  ofiers  some 
additions  :  imuing  which  a  few 
fragments  of  Menander  tmd  Phile- 
mon, which  had  cseapad  the  re- 
9eat«he»of  thetoo  negligeiit  collect 
tor,  may  be  considered  as  the  most 
important ;  tho'  his  erititcal  aiiiio* 
tationa  are  not  destitute  of  actmien. 

Le  Clerc  undoubtedly  merited 
reprehension.  Never,  perhaps^ 
was  an  ancient  author  published  in 
so  cat^less  a  manner.  MetriciA 
defects,  even  in  the  eommon  lam- 
bick  measure,  whioh  required  lit^ 
tie  sagacity  to  correct,  appear  al- 
most in  every  fragment.  Beaidea 
these,  few  pages  iu*e  whollj  free 
from  other  errours  of  different 
kinds,  \\itichdi0play  at  least  unpar- 
donable negli^nce,  and  Were  im<* 
pvted  by  Dentley  to  ignorance.' 

. Bentley 'semmdations  were  the 
pnidiiction  of  a  miod  highly  vig^ 
qnns,  aiid  stored  with  the  moat 
estquiaite-and  ^dsvesaiiied  cvuditi&Bi 
Hiarkaowkidgeof  the  Greek  laa* 
guage,  and  Jkmiiiar  acqtluntajice 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


:^flh?'^«WFfff^- 


^ 


^Uh  their   forms  of  speech  aacL 

-with   their  metres,  were  dispbyeil^ 

-with  uncommon  brilliiincy.     The 

#l§fiittaddn  witteh:heh«d'aQqitii*td 

Jhf  .his  epistle  on  Maleii^^  aodjihte 

^Ktettatioa^  on  Phularis, .  imiRn^ 

-tftelydiacoTered  th&aiuhor  oUhose 

-corrections.     Burman»  m .  hi*  pre- 

fMS)  anertcd,  tiiat  there^  were  :not 

«bowe  tfarae  or  £Qur  pcraons  in  the 

»>i«i>rr|inb|ipkof  Jettu*3,«o  whom 

thcf  ODiJ^be  ascribed)  and  in  the 

liareign  j^ttrnals  they  .were  imme- 

iii<Hly-MBigqcd  to  tiMcir  real:au- 

■Aor. 

^  The  karaed  Dawes,  in  his  ^Us-t 
cell.  Critic,  says,  that  Bentley,  in 
this  per&rmance,  has  passed  over 
above  a  huodned  of  Le  Clcrc's  mis- 
takes,  at  the  same  time  that  he  is 
^ilty  of  at  many  himself.  To 
this  assertioti  too  n^uch  credit 
should  not  be  given  ;  for  it  is  a 
were  assertion.  It  may  be'atlrii>- 
«ted  in  a  great  measure  to  the  u»* 
friendly  sentiments  which  Dawes 
entertaiood  towards  the  writings  of 
this  great  critick.  Th^se  senti- 
ments Burgess,  the  ingenious  ed- 
itor of  his  worki  has  jusJy  censur^ 
ed,  aad  conjectured,  with  much 
probability,  that  they  arose  from 
Dawes's  residence  at  Cambridge, 
while  Bentley's  measures,  as  mas- 
ter of  TrioMy-College,  met  with 
such  violent  opposition.  He,  per- 
haps, did  not  remain  possive  in 
these  disputes,  as  we  may  conjec- 
ture from  the  esf^emess  with  which 
he  endeavoured,  in  his  learned 
workf  to  blast  the  laurels  which 
had  so  long  adorned  the  brow  of 
the  great  Bentley. 

Let  it  not  be  supposcdf  howev- 
er, that  this  pamphlet  b  to  be  con- 
sidered as  a  complete  examination 
of  all  the  fragments  of  Menander 
and  Philemon,  or  that  it  is  absor 
lutely  faultless.  Some  of  its  or^ 
rours  have  been  corrected  by  our 
learned  countsyman  Toupt  in  his 


^aotes  on  Suidas  ;  and  by  Lambert 
Bos,  a  few  years  after  its  pubiiu.- 

•  tion,  hr  his  ^Hiniadver\ic7^tH  ud 
f^tjifitpre^^guo9(J<im  <^  v^cos .  T he se, 
k4i^^\^r%  arc  but  few  ; 

-•*  4PP*r(RtCKitvintcs  in  gurgUe  vwto  !** 

•And  it  should  be  rcnicn^bt  rcu,  that 
^ft«thoi*b  seldom  agree  in  conjectu- 
ral ciiticism,  ai^d  that  the  correc- 
tion oC  iVagments  is  very  hazaiti- 

#US.    ^;,  1..    r.  . 

.,  Iff  BeOtley  had  disputed  with  Le 
ClerCf  about  s  point  which  could 
be  determined  by  universality  of 
knowledge,  the  palm  mubt  liave 
been  assigned  to  the  latter.  In 
tlie  general  mass  of  erudition  the 
world  has  seldom  seen  Le  Clerc's 
superiour  ;  and  those  who  ai*e  ac- 
quainted with  his  works  will  not 
easily  find  an  author  who  has  dis- 
played 4uch  diversihed  talents,  and 
written  with  acknowledged  labili- 
ties on  so  many  and  such  a  variety 
of  subjects. 

For  the  exposure,,  however,  of 
Le  Clei-c's  ignorance  and  negli- 
gence, in  tlie  present  instance, 
Bentley  was  conspicuously  calcu- 
lated. At  an  early  period  of  his 
tife,  he  had  formed  a  scheme  of 
publislung  a  collection  of  the  re- 
mains of  the  Greek  poets,  which 
lie  scattered  through  the  works  of 
ancient  writers.  Those  who  are 
acquainted  with  the  elegances 
which  several  of  these  fragments 
contain,  and  i^ith  Bentley's  critical 
acumen,  will  unite  in  lamenting 
that  1)0  nevar  executed  his  design. 
Besides  this  circumstance,  which 
brought  him  ready  armed  into  the 
field)  his  enemy  was  exposed  in 
his  weakest,  qnarter.  To  critic 
oism,  indeed*  about  HeUenisms, 
and  metrical  diaqiositions,  Le  Clerc 
wss  almost  a  stmiger,  vhile  Bent^ 
ley  was  unoommonly  skilfiiL  in . 
tl^e«e  discussions,  and  far.siupass*  * 
ed  all  his  contemporaries* . 
7(9  h€  saumued. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


s«> 


Air  wuA*  oir-MB'MHiU  Asm 


Fqr  the  jhUhoUgy, 


.  The  trnportanee  And  utttt^  of 
arts  and  BcieDce  ape  tooobvioutl# 
admit  of  doubt  or  «r^m«at ;  but 
perhaps  no  truth,  so  weU  establish- 
«d,  has  been  so  tittle  regarded  by 
the  people  of  this  country.  The 
many  avenues  to  richeS) which  \ht 
circumstances  of  the  times  have 
opened,  are  thronged  with  an  ea- 
gerness, that  engages  every  fecul* 
ty  ;  and  the  great  end,  for  which 
alone  wealth  is  desirabkf  is  absorb* 
ed  in  the  pursuit  and  augmentalioR 
oi  the  means.  It  is  true,  that  to 
make  near  approaches  to  perfec- 
tion in  the  arts,  especially  the  im- 
itative ones,  is  one  of  the  last  re» 
suits  of  opulence  and  power  ;  but 
wliether  America  has  made  those 
advances,  which  her  ability  and 
opportunities  have  afifordedy  is  a 
question  well  worth  serious  con-* 
sid oration,  if  she  has  ^ny  ambition 
to  rank  witli  the  nations  of  Europe 
in  any  otl^cr  respect  than  that  of 
commercial  speculation.  Her  ves-» 
sels  spread  thdr  sails  over  the 
oeean,.  visit  every  port,  and  biing 
home  treasures  from  every  quar- 
ter of  the  globe  j  her  cities  flourv 
ish  aiul  increase  with  unprecedent- 
ed rapidity,  many  of  tl^ir  inhabi- 
tants have  acquired  the  fortunes* 
of  priacea,  and  riches  are  diffused 
among  the  peopk.  The  luxurice, 
ficst  desired4>y  men  middenly  pos- 
aeeaed  of  wealth  are  generally 
coarse  and  gaudy  ;  and  will  con* 
tiaually  become  niore  oearse,  sen- 
aual,  and  depraved,  unless  a  taste 
U  excited  for  refined  and  elegant 
pleasured ;  unteia  those  arts  are 
mom  generaHy  i»oiioiired  and  en- 
couraged, whose  natural  tendency 
is  ta  raise  us  above  the  gradfioa- 
tioBs, of  sense,  to  produce  a  love^ 
beauty  and  order,  a  delicacy  o( 
feeling,  aq.eniigl^cd -liberality 
of  sentimenti  and  that  high  polish 


of  ezteiioar  minen,  wMdn  wMt 
it  eharma  with  its  btilliaDGe  sd4< 
soothes  with  ttsaofoiesa,  yetmibs- 
the  integrity  of  virtue  and  the  p»: 
rity  of  honour. 

That  nsany  must  be  eaplofsd 
in  mere  bodily  labour,  is  leqiuidts 
to  the  existence  of  social  bda^. 
and  it  is  as  wisely  ordered,  ss  it  i$ 
beneficial  and  necessary  ;  yet  if 
tho8e,whom  fortune  has  exetapud 
from  toil,  neglect  to  acquire  kaovl^ 
edge  and  cultivate  taste,  the  oos* 
sequence  must  be  a  dull  and  nox-* 
ious  stagnation  of  every  nobler 
faiculty  ;  a  general  prevalence  of 
selfish  and  bari>arou8  cufitonff' 
but  if  the  many  who  now  possest 
not  only  competence,  b«t  i^ueBcer 
could  be  induced  to  believe,  lint 
the  incessant  pursuit  of  gtiD  wit 
not  the  sole  business  of  lifs ;  ^ 
that  some  portion  of  time  and  mo- 
ney might  be  usefully  enploycd 
in  acquiring  taste  and  festo^  of* 
genius,  they  might  elevate  then- 
selves  unto  a  rank  of  just  sapcri- 
onty  ;  the  respect  they  fA^ 
claim  would  be  paid  with  chcsrRil* 
ness,  and  they  would  be  looked  vf 
to  with  that  veneration,  wWck  i« 
due  to  aceomplished  minds,  lape^ 
riour  talents,  and  legitimate  gitfH- 
deup  :  the  genial  rays  of  pelitM 
Kfe  would  be  reflected  and  diffai- 
ed  through  every  subordinate  cim  * 
of  society  ;  the  tnechanick,  thetv" 
bourer,  the  hind  that  clears  tlir 
forest  and  first  opens  the  bests' 
the  earth,  would  catch  the  softeo" 
ing  gleam  of  humanity,  and  when 
the  hours  of  toil  were  over,  would' 
learn  to  be  satisfied  with  inaecent 
recreadons,  rather  than  seehthc' 
inebriety  of  taverns,  or  the  tumul- 
tuous discord  of  popular  meetinf^t^' 

To  advtee  the  eultivafSon  ef  taster 
and  Uke  Mtainment  odtet^dis^fiB'' 
inating  knowle<%e9  which  enables 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


AirXt8AT'0«-tM*l.IBSmtL  JIfilTS. 


«A 


tcs  po^5eM6r  to  estimate  justly  th« 
merits  of  an  artist   and   the  pro- 
ductions of  art,  particularly  the 
«tt  of  painting,  may  sbundsiHmg^ 
to  some,  who  have  indulge  them- 
•elves  in  fancylrig,  that  the  people 
of  this  country  have  «  natur&l  ^ 
mu9  for  this  art ;    to  prove  which 
belief,  they  will  say,  that  we  can 
go  Into  few  houses  without  seeing 
picttires,  and  that  some  of  the  first 
lAodem    painters   are  nativt»  of 
America,  ...a  land  famous  for  the 
production  of  self-taught  geniuses. 
It  is  true,  that  prints  and  pictures, 
b^g  considered  as  part  of  the 
furniture  of  a  house,  few  that  can 
fVtmish  hotrses,  neglect  to  embel- 
lish them  in  this  manner  ;   but 
the  common  and  motley  collections) 
n^   generally  find,  shew  plainly, 
that  feshionable  decoration  is  the! 
Miy  object  ;  aAd  that  taste  b  nei- 
ther consulted  in  the  selection,  nor 
grttffied  by  the  exhibition.     Of 
self<^ught  genius,  and  the  won<i 
deri'  it  has  performed  ;    the  en- 
couragement it  has  met  with,  and 
the    refeotnmendation    it    carries 
with  it,  We   have  heard  enough, 
fit>m  those  who  have  never  thought 
on  the  subject,  to  sicken  every 
Me,  who  has  extended  his  ideas 
Cir  enough  to  conceive  the  extent 
of  art,  who  knows  how  little  can 
be  done  by  one  rtiind  towards  that 
iegree  of  excellence,  which  re- 
qafares  the    combined  efforts    of 
many,  and  the  progressive  experi- 
ence of  ages.      "  Ars  longa,  vita 
brevis,**  is  Pl  sentence  we  seem  td 
bare  forgotten,  or  never  to  have 
known  i  hence  that  praise  has  been 
lavished  on  those,  who  have  made 
shift  to  learn  their  letters  without 
going  to  school,  ivhich  could  onlf 
MTe  been  deserved  by  the  student, 
fitr  advanced  in  academical  knowW 
edge  ;  hence  emulation,  instead  of 
beuig  excited  to  great  attempts, 
and  deep  retterches,  1)m  been  hr- 
re^ed  in  tlie  beglflhsng  of  the 


course,  sat  down  contented  wfib 
indiscrioiinate  applause  it  received 
for  trifles,  made  no  farther  advance 
ea,  and  the  art  tt^eff  is  even  to  bt 
b^gufl.  This  tountry  has  ibdeed 
jf^iven  birth  to  West  and  Stewartv 
Copely  and  Trumbull  ;  namei 
that  stand  in  the  first  rank  of  Eu- 
ropean artists  ;  but  these  were  not 
self-taught,  the  shoots  of  skill  and 
dexterity  were  engrafted  on  them 
in  another  country,  where  their 
natural  talents  were  nourished  and 
caVefuIly  raised  to  maturity  :  had 
they  continued  here,  they  never 
woufd  have  got  beyond  the  rudi- 
ments of  their  profession,  and  mu^ 
have  been  content  with  that  por- 
tion of  short-lived  praise,  which 
usually  fells  to  the  lot  of  a  selfi 
taught  genius.  These  observa- 
tions are  not  made  to  discourage 
young  men  of  talents  who  are  in« 
clined  to  exert  them  in  the  pursuit 
of  art ;  but  to  warn  them  of  the 
evil  consequences,  which  result 
from  mistaking  the  voice  of  com- 
mon praise,  for  the  commendatlotl 
of  the  judicious  ;  to  induce  them 
to  give  some  other  direction  to 
their  abilities  ;  or  go  where  the 
arts  flourish  in  maturity,  where  the 
works  of  the  great  masters  may 
be  studied,  where  schools  are  form  ^ 
cd,  and  genius  safely  guided  in  thi} 
road  to  excellence. 

The  attempts  that  have  been 
made,  and  are  now  making  ^t  Phfi 
ladelphia  and  N«w-York,  tb  eaUb- 
lish  schools  of  paititing,  are,  in  th^ 
present  state  of  the  country,  ex^ 
ceedingly  premattire  ;  and  tmtsi 
inentably  prove  -futile  and  nuga« 
tory.  The  grcAitid  mbst  be  clear- 
ed,  and  opened  to  the  vivifyfeg 
ray,  mtiit  be  weeded  and  dressed^ 
the  soil  made  rich  by  patient  in^ 
dostry,  before  the  f^ds  of-delicate 
flowers  ckri  be  towti ;  and  theni 
ineessaht  care,  attention,  and  skiff 
is  necesrtiry  ta  perfect  the  gaf 
parterre,  whieb  it  to  ffniltty'  the 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


M^r*. 


wmM  with  {mgrmctf  a»d  the  jnf^ 
vith  varied  beauty  :  so,  before  v« 
jcoD  ibrm  schools  of  artv  it  is  necet- 
pary^by  previous  cultivatiofi^to  p?e^ 
pare  the  minds  of  people  to  receive 
and  Q^urisb  tlie  seeds  of  Uste  ; 
then  schools  Jiuiy  be  established  oa 


solid  {bundatioiis,  possessed  i^-the 
means  of  instruction,  and  conduct 
ed  by  able  professors.  « 

If  these  few  ideas,  hastily  thrown 
together^  are  &vourably  received 
by  your  readers,  the  subject  shall 
be  continued.  £.  £•• 

JuMc  30. 


SILVA, 


^ro.  16. 


inic  fmrporefi  tecU  rottilli 
Onmlt  fraf^rat  hwimi,  calthaqoe  piogvla 
,  Et  moDct  violas  ct  tenuca  ctocq* 
Fundit  fonacuUa  uda  fugAcibua . PRUDENTIUS. 


TRANSLATORS. 

.  Transit ATORs  are  almost  al* 
ways  either  too  close  or  too  loose. 
The  metaphrast  ^'  hunts  with  his 
author  in  couples ;"  the  paraph rast 
spreads  his  wings,  so  boldly,  that 
be  leaves  his  author.  Perhaps  i 
am  worse  than  paradoxical,  when 
I  assert  that,  as  a  translator,  Burke 
would  have  been  close»  and  John* 
son  loose.  The  one  would  have 
dilated  and  attenuated  ;  the  other 
would  have  compressed  and  con* 
densed.  Johnson  was  more  like 
Dryden  ;  Burke  i^ore  like  Pope^ 
The  Eriglish  ^eidisa  monarchy 
decked  in  k)9Sf»  wanton  robes  $ 
his  air  high  and  m^jestick  ;  his 
•oeptre  sparkles  with  gems  ;  the 
mild,  melting  rays  of  soft  indul- 
gent mercy  flow  from  his  crown. 
The  English  Iliad  is  a  warriour, 
girded  in  close  and  succinct  ar- 
laour  ;  whose  step  is  firm  and 
manly  ;  whose  aword  glitters  to 
the  sun  ;  from  whose  helmet  leap 
the  fierce  and  scorching  beams  of 
stem>  relentless  justice, 

JOURKALS. 

A  GByTLEMAN,whom  I  honour 
and  respect  as  a  patriot  and  a 
Hatesman,  whoyi  I  love  and  vene- 
rate as  a  patron  and  friend,  once 
told  me,  that  no  man  was  ever  ia 
the  habit  'Of  keeping  a  regular 
jimmal  of  his  life,  wl^  did  not  at-^ 
tain  to  9ome  consideniblc  eminence 


in  society.  Gibbon,  by  keepings  a 
journal,  has  at  least,  tacitly  con* 
lessed,  that  without  it,  his  learn*' 
ing  would  have  been  little  better 
than  useless ;  a  dead,  inert,  unpro- 
ductive mass  of  thoughts,  lying  m 
heaps,  "  corrupting  in  their  fer- 
tility ;"  and  now  where  is  the  man 
who  will  dare  to  condenm,  as  a 
childish,  idle  amusementt  what  the 
example  of  this  grand  monargu^ 
of  literaluix  authorizes  us  to  con^ 
sider  as  a  laanly,  necessary  duty  I 

FIKDAR    AND   SECUNDUS. 

PiKnAR,  bom  at  Thebes,  aB4 
Secundus,  a  native  of  the  tiague^ 
are  two  illustrious  in  stances  to  s^cw^ 
that  genius  is  above  the  infiuenfitt 
of  climate.  The  thick,  deadening 
fogs  of  Boeotia,  the  cold,  blasting^ 
dews  of  Holland  produced  no  otheir 
effect,  than  to  heighten  the  grc«% 
conceptions  of  the  former^  spad  V9t 
sweeten  the  tender,  soft  sentiments 
of  the  latten  The  kisses  of  Se<n 
cundus  charm  into  coldness  tho 
ang^,  and  subdue  the  vi^ctive 
to  indifference ;  they  soften  tokind-* 
ness  the  most  indifferent,  and  melt 
the  coldest  into  love.  The  odes» 
of  Pindar,  who  can  read  without^ 
feeling  his  imagination  kindle  ioUN 
enthusiaBm  I 

SUAVS. 

BuaNS  is  one  of  thaie^i^  |kutt)9>^  ^ 
whon^  I  am  n^vcr  too/^r^ary  of  too  ^ 


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tETLVQI. 


WK 


idle  to  redd.  *  Why  docs  the  Ajn^ 
•hire  bard  always  charm  ?  To 
whsrt  is  it  ovingv  that  the  oftenrer 
]  T^ad  the  Cotter'a  Saturday J^ig/it, 
the  nacre  my  kindly,  gentle  affec- 
tioos  ripetv  and  reiine.  Learniag 
lie  most  certainly  wanted  ;  but  as 
Drydon  said  of-  ^<  nature's  darling 
chUd,"  the  immortal  bard  of  Avon^ 
Bums  needed  not  the  spectacle  of 
books  to  read  nature.  He  looked 
Inwards,  and  he  found  her  > there. 
God  had  also  given  him  a  soul^ 
which  the  heavy,  reluctant  clouds 
•f^  low  birth  and  narrow  fortune 
ocMftld  not  darken. 

Cauld  blew  the  Wtter-biflng  north 
"  Upon  thf  eztiy  htimbk  birth, 
..  Yet  c^cfftiily  thou  skoted  lorth 
AxxiH  the  storm. 

Burns  is  so  different  from  any 
of  his  cotemporaries,  that  if  I  were 
required  to  point  out  a  poet,  who 
in  any  two  respects  resembles 
bim,  i  should  hesitate  long,  I  fear 
to  no  purpose.  Bruce  may  per- 
baps  be  nK>re  tender  and  delicate ; 
but  he  moves  no  laughter  ;  he 
thrills  no  horrour  ;  his  wit  is  fil- 
tered through  too  rooch  learning ; 
k  trickles  meagre  and  rapid.  Uh 
sublimity  is  always  debased  by 
some  circumstance  of  meanness* 
I  do  not  say  that  Bruce  wants  ge- 
Bitn  s  ^  from  it  ;  he  does  not 
waibt)  it.  He  is  full  of  genius. 
Ifis  ]K>etry  glows  with  the  warm- 
est words,  and  sparkles  with  the 
brightest  thoughts  of  a  warm, 
g^kiwing  imagination,  of  a  bright, 
^yorkling  fancy. 

Compared  with  Bums,  Cowper 
dwindles....!  am  almost  afraid  to 
speak  my  opinion  ;  the  ink  hard* 
If  mo^es  thi*ough  my  pen ;  it  turns 
pale  and  seems  to  sicken  when  I 
sayy that  compared  with  Bams, 
Cowper  shrinks  into  nothing.  The 
Nine  may  have  loved  Cowper  as 
well  as  Bums.  Indeed,  their  affec- 
tion for  the  former  was  at  first  ten- 


derer, perhaps  «*wnef,'tb«if  tB» 
the  latter  ;  but  fondnesd  i*  pocfrif 
rvpaid.  hsve  is  sorrily  rewsrded 
with  esteem  or  respect.'  Lot^ 
unless  it  kindles  love,  flashes,  and 
is  gone  forever.  Fondftess,  un- 
less it  excite  fondness,  soon  dead- 
ens into  indiiference.  What  were 
the  awkward,  ceremonious  bows 
of  Cowper,  compared  to  the  "  fel- 
tering,  ^cnt.  kisses"  of  Bums  ? 
What  were  a  modest,  timorous 
Englishman's  professions  of  re- 
gard, compared  to  the  feelings  of 
an  open,  honest  Scotchman,  who, 
in  protestations  of  gratitude,sighed 
bis  very  soul  ? 

BtN   JONSON   ANn    COWPRR. 

In  his  second  Masqueof  Bemtity, 
the  counterpart  of  his  first  of 
Blackness^  Ben  Jonson  imroduces 
and  presents  Boreas,...**  In  a  robe 
of  russet  and  White  mixt...fu1ed 
and  bagged,  his  hair,  and  bcArd 
rough  and  horrlde...his  wfatgs  graf 
and  full  of  snow  and  >xicle8..jMid 
in  his  hand  a  leaf-lesse  branehf  1a«^ 
den  with  ycicles.'^  From  this 
representation  of  Boreas,  Cowper 
without  doobt  caoght  the  leadho^ 
distinguishing  images  and  circun^ 
stances  of  his  beautifiii  persoQlA^ 
cation  of  Winter. 

I 

Oh  winter,  ruler  of  th'lQTcrted  year*. 
Thy  fcaltcrM  hair  with  ilect  like  ashes  fillM,  ' 
Thy  breath  eon^eal'd  u^ii  thy  Kp«,  thy  cheekt  ■ 
rMog*d  with  a  beard  Made  whili  with  oihcs 

snows 
Than  those  of  age,  thy  fbreheid  wltept  to  cUmH^ 
A  leafle*  branch  thy  toeptrf ,  and  thy  throo* 
A  sliding  car.  Indebted  to  no  Wheels,    . 
But  urged  by  storms  along  tts  sllpp'ry  way, 
I  lore  thee  all  miloYely  at  thou  stom^itt 
And  dreaded  ae  thou  art  I  &c. 

MONITORY    POSMS  AND  PROTE|tBS 
Of   SOlOMON.  ,     ^ 

Thb  monitory  poeins'. of  Phop 
cylides  clearly  recognizes  the  imr 
xiortality  ef  the  sou)»  while  tbt 
**  Proverbs  of  Solomcm"  hardly 
hint  at  this  great  doctrine  of  natU'^ 


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tal  PtUgbm.  I  neotioa  this  feet, 
because  it  is  cnirious,  and  Uttte 
knowB.  The  Bishop  of  Glouces* 
|«r  is  mf  attthomy. 

FOPE  AVD   GHAT. 

•  Gray,  in  his  poem  on  the  Pleas- 
ures of  Vicissitude,  has  happilf 
Imitatedi  perhaps  he  has  more  than 
equalled)  a  fine  passage  in  the 
second  epbtle  of  Pope's  Essa^r 
oa  Miffi. 

1.4VC,  hope,  aoi  jof ,  f air  pteaflBt^  MiiBiis  tniii  I 
Mate,  fear,  and  grief,  the  family  of  pain  : 
Tb«e  mlz'd  with  art,  and  to  doe  bocmdi  am* 

Kike  and  mdntaln  the  balance  of  the  mind  ; 
The  lights  and  ihadea,  whoat  woB  occotdedittlfc 
QI(HMMJk  the  ttrcnKth  tad  colour  of  our  Itfe. 

Thcboiaof  Ma  HMre  brightly  tW«* 
C>«>ti«e^  by  iibler  tlnti  of  woe, 
And  blended  ftrm  with  artful  atrife 

•  ■neita— gth  and  hanSwy  of  Mfc. 

OtAT. 

.  tt  Wiii  ifhu  bredt  a  leaf  driven 
to  9n4/r%  r*  This  touching  ques* 
lioQ  of  Job  came  with  all  its  force 
into  my  miod,  as  I  was  yesterday 
•aunteriog  through  the  mall,  and 
what  can  be  more  pathetick  ?  A 
yetj  old  man  was  leasiing  upon  his 
•tafff  as  if  weary;  1  asked  him 
itby,. instead  of  standing  in  the 
sun,  he  (iid  not  ait  beneath  one  of 
the  elms.  He  raised  his  counte- 
iiaf)ce  to  answer  me  :  it  was  pen- 
sive, but  not  gloomy  ;  a  faint,  mel- 
meholy  smile  gleamed  from  his 
ff o,  and  gave  hiis  features  the  ex* 
yMSibtk  of  tranquil  resignation. 
He  told  me  that  the  shade  recall- 
ed his  sorrows;  I  am,  said  he, 
ak>ne...But  why  do  I  eompiaia  I 
I  deserved  nothing  ;  I  have  lost 
nH.'— FeeHng  an  interest  in  the 
man,  I  asked  him  what  calami- 
tfes  had  stripped  him  to  pov- 
erty ^Ht  began  to  collect  his 
Ihougkts,   mA  without  a  singk 


word  of  cofophdnt,  related  the  t* 
▼ents  of  his  life.  He  had  lived 
seventy  years,  and  not  a  day  ever 
pa«ed  witkoutbringing  some  new 
misfortune.  His  voice,  while  h* 
was  speaking,  was,  for  the  most 
part,  calm  and  even  ;  but  when  he 
told  me  of  the  death  of  his  wifis 
and  only  daughter,  his  utteMBce 
was  choaked.  His  limbs  are  now 
palsied,  his  eyes  are  dim,  his  ears 
are  thick.  But  though  hia  senses 
are  leaving  him,  he  is  not  qu^u* 
lous  ;  hts  God,  he  knows,  is  love. 
Surely  there  is  another  state.  Who 
does  not  acknowledge,  that  unre* 
pining  patience  deaterves  a  reward 
higher,than  earth  can  give  I  There 
is  indeed  a  wotld,  where  sorrow 
and  sighing  shall  fiee  away,  where 
tearsrahaU  be  turned  into  joy. 

LEVITI^. 

In  the  province  c^  Gascoigne  ia 
France  the  natives  substitute  the 
letters  B  and  V  for  each  other  } 
which  oocaaioQsd  Joseph  ScaUger 
to  say  of  them...Felices  popuU 
quibus  Ubere  est  vivere. 

We  have  often  iieard  the  anec^ 
dote  of  the  boy,  who  being  sent  hf 
his  master  to  Aeat  his  breakfastf 
construed  the  direction  into  an  or- 
der to  eat  it,  cm  the  authority  of 
the  old  pedagogues,  that  ^  H  woj^ 
not  a  letter:'  The  lad  ims  net 
without  law  on  his  side.  Intb^ 
case  of  Shelbury,  vs.  Bupard.  (Cro^ 
Eliz.  178.)  in  error,  it  was  moved* 
that  the  writ  of  error  should  abate 
for  a  variance  betweoi  the  writ  and 
record,  ^  for  that  the  record  was 
«« of  lands  in  ColcAeater  and  the 
^  vrrit  suppQseth  the  lands  to  be 
•<  in  Colcester  ;"  but  it  was  held 
to  be  no  vmriaace,  because  ^  Hnon 
^  eu  Htera,  ^ed  oe/tiraiio.**  Cre« 
Elk.  \n.  Case  18. 


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30^ 


rtl 


POETRY- 


For  the  jHftiholo^, 
EPISTLE 

T9  TheoPHILUS  BAK9fi;«8.-Jf/0A  bit  tfr- 
Cfptimg  the  Apfmntment  of  Chief  JvJIiee 
•f  the  Suframe  Judtciat  Court  of  Majfa- 
cbmfHt4,         '^  ^ 

AND  does   that  mind,  which  every 
^  mia^  excels, 

Quit  thr  proud  path  where  fame  trium- 

fi^l  ^we(U? 
While  at  her  side  proli6ck  fortune  stands, 
And  showers  her  bounty  with  unsparing, 
hands, 
'  Bids  but  thy  genius  ask, and  all  obey.... 
Why   fling  the  doubly  profier'd  l^oa 

away  ? 
Sor  the  dull  itaeh  the  inspiring  r^  di|^, 

claim  ? 
False  t6' thyself,    to    fortune,    and   to 
fame  ! 

Yoo,  like  an  eastern  monarch,  reigii*d 

alone. 
Nor  could  the  aspiring  iratber  reach  thy 

throne  ; 
Or,  like  a  gianf,  towering  o'er  thy  kin^. 
More  stfpn^  than  monarchs  forced  the 

.    iwfy  of  inind  ; 
But  MTV,  uncl^c^^d  by  fortune's  vertick 

nays, 
TedioOiand  tamo  will  low'r  thy  shadowy 

davs. 
Condemn  d  to  heed  the  eTer-during  plea. 
Which  endMss  folly,  blundering,  pours 

ofifthee  ; 
Or,  sti4|iU^  jiH  thy  suffering  heart's  desire, 
WUh  Vfi^^\^  Recent  bid  the  wreitch 

expire  ; 
Even  hinf '^hose  wrongs  awake  the  feel* 

io^'^igh,    "\ 
>    Him  m2j juHJui/ig  jofticc  doom  to  die.r" 
Such  is  thjr  fate^ — With  pain'd  ;^udpa- 
^    .   IMP^  «ar. 

The  paQ^Qoootony  of  words  to  b^af  ; 
Misgui3ied  firoor,  wandering  £ar  foom 

,«  teniiV' 
Pride's  pofhpout    phrase,  and  passion's 
•rude  pretence,  '    ^' 

Vol.  III.  No.  6.     2P 


A^fuk  thee  noMC,  from  morn's  unwelcome 

ray 
To  the  slow  shadows  of  retreating  4ay. 
What  thoush  some  soaring  genii^s,  .true 

to  thine, 
In  mental  radiaiice  bid  the  Fjtnm  shine» 
De^p,  fervid,  full,  with  sacred   science- 

fraught. 
And  all  the   graced    pre-epiinenpe    of 

thought. 
Forceful  as  reason  ii\  her  high  career. 
Yet  falls,  like  mtisick,  on  the  astooibhed 

ear. 
When,  as  a  charm,  ^h©  fluent  strain*  is 

found 
To  l^id  enamour'd  silei^e  hover  round, 
Callfng  from  thee  that  smile,  which  seems 

to  speak, 
Gives   the  delighted   flush   to   pass  th][ 

cheek  : — 
More  dark  will-  seem  the  void-  his  p^u^e 

supplies. 
More  bleajc  the  wild   that   mocks  thy 

searching  eyes. 

Sfi^ll  is  the  meed  the    uych^risb'd 
'  ■    Muse  can  give, 
*Ti»  thi::e  to  honour,  and  thy  praise  ^yill 

live, 
Still  thou  must  shine,  and  with  unequafPd 

ra^<, 
The  undying  Mansfield  of  deparud. 

days; 
On  thee  will  Genius  rest  her  VQtlvc  qjics. 
Led  by  thy  ligHt  another  Parsons  riic. 
Guide  or  r^z  la>v}i,  !  ne'er  to  thy  co\^i- 

try  lost. 
Thine  is  th9  \yrong-.l?ut  her'^  the  boon 

and  boast. 


For  the  AutM^y* 

DEUS. 

DfiT  supremo  percita  flamine 
Minlem  voluntas  cxtiir.ulat  mc«m  ; 
Hinc  per  nejjatum  tcntat  aha  ' 

Dicdalius  itor  ire  ceris. 

Audetqiie  cpdi  non  memorabi^e 
Mttafrv^Kumaii,  princi|)ii)*cdi'po9  ' 


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oJo 


POSTRT. 


F.t  flae»  dtfioire  Mutae 
Eiigux  breviore  gyro. 

Origo  rerum  et  termiiMs  cminiiiin, 
Origo,  fons  et  principium  tui, 
Sulque  iiai%  termiouMjue  ;; 
Priocipio  fine  termiooque.. 

Ubtqtic  Totut  ;  tempore  in  omnibos 
Omni  quiescent  ipse  Dcut    locit« 
Parte*  in  omnes  distributut. 
Integer  usque  manent  ubique. 

Nee  comprehcnsum  ullit  regionlbus, 
Ullisve  dausum  limitibus  loca 
Tenent,  »ed  omnis  Ijber  omne 
Diditut   in   tpatium  vagatur. 

lllius  aha  est  vellc  potentia, 
0|)us  voruntas  invariabiHs 
Kc  magnus  absque  e§r  quantitatc, 
^tque  bonus  »ine  quaKtatc. 

Quod  dicit,  uno  tempore  perfidt ; 
Mirerc  fiat  vox,  vcl  opu«  prius  ; 
Cum  dixit,  en,  cum  voce  cuncta 
Uni versa  simul  crcata. 

Cuncta  intuctar,  perspicit  omnia, 
Atque  in  sua  uous,  solus  est  omnia 
Qux  tunr,  fuerunt  et  futura  ; 
Frxvidet  ipse  peretinitate. 

Atque  ipse  plenus,  cuncta  rcplct  sui, 
Et  semper  idem.     Sustinct  omnia* 
Kl  fcrt,  monctquc  amplcctfturque, 
Atque  supercilio  gubernat. 

Te,  te  oro ;  tandem  rcspice  me  bonus, 
Tibiquc  nodo  jungc  adamantino  ; 
Id  namque  solum,  unumque,  et  onme 
Kcddere  quod  pot  is  l^catos. 

Quicunque  junxit  se  tiBi,  et  altiiis 
Uni  adhzroscit,  continet  omnia: 
Ipsumque  te,  qui  sis  futuruft 
Omnibus  onmia  sub  ministras. 

Laboriosis  tu  vigor  indytus 
Tu  portus  alto  naufragantibus ; 
Tu  fons  perennis  perstrcpentit 
Qui  laticcs  salientis  arddt. 

Tu  summa  nostris  pectoribus  quie» 
Tranquiilitasquc  et  pax  placidissima  ; 
I'u  mensus.  es  rerum  modusque, 
'i'u  species  et  amata  forma. 

Tu  meta,  pondus,  tu  numcrus,  decor  ; 
Tuque  prdo,  tu  pax  atque  honor,  atqu« 
amor, 


Cuscliit,  laltitqtie  at  vita,  ct 
Nectare  et  anibrosia  voluptas. 

Tu  venis  altae  fons  sapient  ix. 
To  vera  lux,  tu  lex  venerabilis, 
Tu  certa  spes,  tuque    xirtema 
£t  ratio,  et  vita,  veritasque. 

Decus  jubarqae,  ct  Immen  amabile, 
£t  lumen  ainum  atque  invioUbile, 
Tu  sununa  summanun.    Quid  ultra  i 
Maiimiis,  optimus,  unos,  tdcm. 


SELECTED. 


THE    AFRICAN. 
jOy  Jiev.  ir.  L,  Bo^te: 

FAINTijaring  on  the  burning  orb  of  day, 

V  hen  Africk's  injur'd  «on  expiring  by. 

His  forehead  cold,  hli  labouring  bosom  barcr 

His  dewy  templet,  and  hb  sable  hair. 

His  poor  companions  kia'd,  and  cry*d  aloud. 

Rejoicing,  whilit  his  head  in  peace  he  bowM  > 

**  Kow  thy  long,  long  task  is  dofie, 

Sw-iftty,  brother;  wii*t  thou  run. 

Ere  to-morrow*tf  golden  beam 

Glitter  on  thy  parent  stream. 

Swiftly  Che  delights  to  share. 

The  feait  of  joy  which  waits  thee  there  I 

Swiftly,  brother,  wUt  thou  ride 

0*er  the  long  and  stormy  tide. 

Fleeter  than  the  hurricane. 

Till  thou  view  those  scenes  again. 

Where  thy  father's  hut  was  rear'd, 

Where  thy  mother's  voice  was  heard; 

Where  thy  faifant  brothers  playM 

Beneath  the  fragrant  citron  khade  ; 

Where  through^  gteen  savannahs  wide 

Cooling  riven  silent  glide, 

€>r  the  shrill  sigarras  sing 

Cea»clcst  to  thcfr  murmuring ; 

Where  the  dance,  tlic  festive  song. 

Of  many  a  friend  divided  long, 

DoomM  through  stranger  lands  to  rotm* 

Shall  bid  thy  spirit  welcome  home  ! 

**  Fcadcss  o*er  the  foaming  tide 
Again  thy  light  canoe  shall  ride  ^ 
Fearless  on  the  embattled  plain 
Thou  shall  Itft  thy  lance  again ; 
Or,  starting  at  the  call  of  mom. 
Wake  the  wild  woods  with  thy  horn  ;, 
Or,  nuhing  down  the  mountain-slope, 
OVrtake  the  nimble  antelope  ; 
Or  lead  the  dance,  *<mld  blissful  bands. 
On  cool  Andracte's  yellow  sands ; 
Or.  in  th'  cmbowVlng  orange  grove* 
Ttll  to  t!iy  iong-forsakcn  love 


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>6EtRy. 


^or 


"fht  wounds,  the  ^gony  severe. 
Thy  patient  »pirit  sulfer'd  here  ! 

«•  Fear  not  now  the  tyrant**  ipo>*cr— 
^Past'U  his  Insulting  hour- 
Mark  no  more  the  »uUen  trait 
^n  slavery's  brow  of  icom  and  hate  ( 
llcir  no  tnore  ^e  long  sigh  borne 
llttmAirlbg  on  the  gales  of  mom  I 

••  Go  in  peace— yet  we  remain 
Far  dbtant,  toiling  on  in  pain  ; 
Kre  the  great  Sun  fire  the  slties 
To  our  work  of  woe  we  ri»e  ; 
And  KC  C4ch  niglit,  without  a  friend. 
The  woji^d's  great, comfQrtcr^dcs^nd! 

VTell  our  brethreif,  where  ye  most. 
Thus  we  t^il  with  weary  feet  i 
Yet  tell  them,  that  Love's  ^en*TOUS  flame, 
Xa  joy,  in  wret^hodnesj,  the  same, 
Xn  dbtafit  iNfprld*  was  iie'er  forgot— 
And  teU  them,  that  we  murmur  not— 
Tell  them,  though  the  pang  will  start. 
And  drain  the  life-blbod  from  the  heart- 
Tell  them,  gencrom  shame  forbids 
The  tear  to  stain  our  burning  lids  ! 
Tell  them,  in  weariness  and  wiuit, 
For  our  native  hills  we  pant. 
Where  soon,. from  shame  and  sorrqw  ^rcc* 
We  hope  In  death  j;o  foWovr  thee." 


MYMN....BY  Burks. 

Sane^A  feU  of  haUU»amu  of  tU  Jay^ 
eveniag,^bt  iMfouiufed  ami  dying  of  tb/  vif- 
UrUms  army  art  Aup^oscd  to  jflia  m  the 
ftiUvfing  song, 

FAREWELL,  thou  fair  day,  thou  green  eartt^ 
and  ye  sides 

Now  gay  with  the  br^ht  setting  sun ; 
Farewvll  l«|ves4iidfrlendsh^,  ye  dear  tender  ties. 

Our  race  of  existence  is  run! 

Thou  grim  king  of  terrors,  thou  lifers  gloomy  foe. 
Go,  frighten  the  coward  and  slave ; 

Go,  teach  them  «to  tremble,  liell  tyrant !   but 
know. 
No  terroon  hast  tbo«  to  the  4)rave  ! 

Thou  strlk*ct  the  duli  peasant^  he  a^T^Lk  in  the 
dark. 

Nor  saves  e'en  the  wreck  of  a  name ; 
"TImki  strik'st  the  young  iiero,  a  glorious  mark  I 

He  falb  in  the  Maze  o*  his  fame  f 

In  the  field  of  proud  honour... our  swpr^s  In  Aur 
hands. 

Our  king  and  our  country  to  save... 
While  victory  shines  on  life^  last  ebbing  sands. 

Q  !  who  would  QOt  rvt  wlc|i  tiic  brave  l 


AN   EPISTLE    TO    J.    HiLl,   ESq. 

By  Cow/ic}\ 

DEAR  Joseph— five  and  twenty  years  ago— 
Alas,  how  tkne  escapes  !— *tb  even  so— 
With  frequent  intercourse,  and  always  sweet. 
And  always  friendly,  we  were  wont  to  cheat 
A  tedious  hour,  and  now  we  never  meet  ! 
As  some  grave  gentleman  in  Terence  says, 
(•Twas  therefore  much  the  same  in  anuicnt  d.iy») 
Good  lack,  we  know  not  what  to-morrow  bringti- 
Stranjje  fluctuattoa  of  all  hum^n  things  ! 
True.    Changes  will  befall,  and  friends  may  part. 
But, distance  only  cannot  change  the  heart : 
Am),  wfcre  I  called  to  piove  the  assoctioo  >true, 
-One  proof  should  serve— a  reference  to  you. 

Whence  comes  It,  then,  that  hi  the  wane  of  life. 
Though  nothing  have  occurred  tokbidle  strife. 
We  find  the  friends  we  fancied  wc  had  won. 
Though  numVous  once,  reduc'd  to  few  or  none  i 
Can  gold  grow  worthless  that  hasbtood  the  touch  f 
No— gold  they  seem*4,.  hut  they  were  never  such. 

Horat)o*s  servant  once,  with  Jio wand  cdnge, 
,8wlngfaig  lihe  parlour-door  upon  its  Mnge, 
Dreading  a  negative,  and  overaw'd 
Lest  he  should  trespMs,  begg'd  to  go  abroad. 
Go,  fellow  !— whither  ?— tuniing  short  about— 
Nay— stay  at  home— you're  always  goi«g  out. 
Tis  but  a  step,  SU-,  jiwt  at  the  street's  end.— 
For  what  I— An  please  you.  Sir,  to  jee  a  friend. 
A  friend  I  Horatio ^crJcd,  and  seero*d  to  start- 
Yea,  marry  slult  thou,  and  with  all  ipy  heart.— 
AndTetch  my  doak  j  lor,  tho»  the  night  be  rawt 
I'll  see  hjm  too— the  f\nt  I  ever  saw. 

I  knew  the  man,  jm^  knew  hU  nature  mild, 
^nd  was  his  plaything  often  when  a  child  ; 
But  somewhat  at  that  moment  plnch'dhim.cloie 
Else  lie  was  seldom  bitter  or  morose. 
Perhaps,  his  confidence  just  then  bctrjiyM, 
His  grief  might  prqmpt  him  with  the  speech  he 

made  } 
Perhaps  *tw^  mere  good  humour  gave  it  birth. 
The  iurmless  play  of  pleasan^try  and  mirth. 
Howe*er  It  was,  his  language,  in  my  mhid, 
Beyoke  at  least  a  man  that  Jtnew  mankind. 

But«  not  to  moralise  too  much,  and  stralM 
^o  prove  an  evil  of  yvhich  ^1  complain, 
(I  hate  long  argumeq^s,  vertiosely  spun) 
Oneatory  more,  dear  Hill,  aiMl  1  have  done* 
Once  on  ^.  time  mi  cmpjor,  jk  wbe  roan- 
No  matter  whete,  in  China  or  Japan^ 
Decreed,  that  whoMicver  should  offend 
Against  the  well-known  duties  of  a  friend. 
Convicted  once,  shotUd  ever  after  wear 
But  half  a  coat,  jmd  show  his  bosom  bare. 
The  punishment  hnporting  this,  no  doubt. 
That  all  was  naught  within,  and  all  found  out. 

Oh,  happy  Briubi  I  we  have  not  to  fear 
Such  hard  and  arbitrary  measure  here ; 
Else,  could  a  law  like  that  which  I  relate 
Once  have  the  sanctk>n  of  our  triple  state. 
Some  few,  that  I  have  known  in  days  of  old. 
Would  run  most  dreadful  risk  of  catching  cold  i 
While  yo«,my  friend,wbatever  ^lod  sImuU  Mow. 
Might  traverse  Englapd  safely  to  and  fro. 
An  honest  man,  cloae-buttoned  to  the  chin, 
Bro^d-^lotli  without,  and  a  warm  li^art  wUb^JU 


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SOS 


THE  BOSTON  REVIEW, 


FoA    APRIL,     1806. 


bT™TC?     Na^cco^diccrc   v^tn   a^sucVl.     Ncquc   ulU   patkntiu.    rcprehcndufttur,  quam  q«l 

maximc  laqdayi  Incrcntur.— Pliny. 


ARTICLE   23. 

Jn  Enquiry  into  the  J^avj  Merchant 
qf  the  ilmted  States  i  or  Lex 
Mtrrctttx)ria  .Mmrricana,  on  several 
heads  of  commercial  importance, 
/dedicated  by  JierviisHion  to  T, 
Jrfflrsonj  /ireadent  of  the  United 
Statcft.  In  tnvo  volumesi.  Vol.  /.* 
New-York,  Isaac  Collins  8c  Son, 
for  Abraham  &  Arthur  Stansbu- 
ry,  1802.     8vo.  fip.  815. 

If  any  (5«ueral  observation  applies 
to  Anici*ican  writers,  it  is  that  they 
are  not  careful,  by  learned  dili- 
gence, by  the  study  of  approved 
-works,  and  by  repeated  essays  in 
private,  to  acquire  an  elevated 
.standard  of  taste.  Who  among 
them  has  shewn,  that  his  works 
are  the  images  of  that  divine 
model,  which  had  a  previous  ex- 
istence in  the  mind  df  the  author? 
To  make  a  volume,  sgmething 
more  is  necessajfa  than  manual 
Itlbour.  The  mere  mariTlfacturers 
of  b6oks  afe  le^s  deserving  of  pa- 
tronage, th*n  Uie  huw)i)lest  artu- 
zans  in  society.  T-hey  ^legra^te 
the  dignity  df  intellectual  etJ^erlion. 
They  wvitp  only  for  n\prie;y,  an4 
they  judge  of  the  goodncfis  of-tbeic 
work,  as  a  shopkeeper  of  his  cloth, 
by  Its  saleable  tjuahty. 

The  w^.k  beibre  us  is  mpdestly 
entitled, «' A<i  Enc|tiiry  imo  the  Lirw 
MerchaiU  qf  .^e  XT4ted  Si^te.^.*' 
pji|i3L  tUctOajUu^af  ^onuuewie  k  i» 

.  •Thi«  workis*jr  George  Gaifw  <ff 
New-Ydrit.  T^hc  monjd  volume  is  ©(jt 
^^t  piibliflie^. 


not  capable  of  being  regulated  by  the 
municipal  laws  of  individual  states, 
but  it  must  be  governed  by  a  code, 
which  is  respected  by  all  civilized 
nations,  and  denominated  the  Law 
Merchant*  In  respect  of  the  uni- 
versality of  this  system,  it  may  be 
considered  as  a  portion  of  the  law 
of  nations  ;  not*  indeed  regulating 
tjie  intercourse  of  independent 
states,  but  obligatory  on  the  indi- 
viduals of  each  state  among  them- 
selves, and  with  the  citizens  of 
other  states,  in  the  multifarious 
transactions  of  trade  and  com- 
merce. Men  engaged  in  a  similar 
pursuit  would  naturally  observe 
similar  rules  of  acting,  and  this  of 
itself  sufficiently  accounts  for  the 
origin  of  a  distincttode  jdT  lawsiolr 
that  vast  portion  ©f  sx^  ^pe<aes, 
who  arc  employed  <•  the  acqufci- 
tion  of  gain  by  buying  and  ^oMw^^ 
The  laws  of  particular  states^ 
•which  relate  to  commerce,  usutifty" 

*  Lord  Mansfield,  fpeakteg;.  in  tli% 
cafe  of  Luke  et  al  v.  I^e.  fid  Burr.  817,, 
pf  t^  maritime  law,  which  it  a  braxMi)^ 
of  ihe  law  of  commerce,  fays  -.  "  ^e 
^maiiiti^e  li^iiy  is  not  the  law  of  a  j}9^icii« 
lar  country,  but  the  general  Uw  of  na- 
tions :  ©on  erii  alia  kx  HQfnK,dMiA« 
t.beais  ;  alia  i?unc,  alia  poftbac  ;  f^  et 
apud  omnes  gentes  et  omni  tempore,  una 
eaden^<juc  Icx  ^c^liflebit"  C>c.  Oj9t  3. 
'^^  T(v^»  a  qupfVoq  of  freight  betw^^c^ 
two'!Briti(h  i]ubjeAS^  lu  (^prf0&ng  ||ie 
opinion  of  the  cour^  Lord  Mi^n&iieU 
•^ttdtt^'tKe  ModiM  iakt'iy  tbe  CorJuSk 
dd  Mere,  ^bi^Jk  is  ^  Spaoiib  work,  l|ie 
Ufif^fSf  >W   C^jfivs  0/  jiff  Sea,  a  French 

Tcivn  ifltw,   Roccus  de  Navihut  et  NauU, 
and  the  Ordinance  f>f  Lewit  tbe  XJ^* 


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LEX   MERCATOBIA.   AMSRICANA. 


90f 


respect  the  collection  of  the 
impost.  In  a  work  therefore, 
which  professes  to  treat  of  tlie 
commercial  law  of  the  United 
States,  we  should  expect  to  fiird  a 
digest  of  the  statutes  of  congress, 
j^lating  to  this  subject,  with  tlie 
constructions  given  to  them  by 
decisions  in  the  fiederal  courts,  and 
more  especially  in  the  supreme 
court  of  the  UnitccJ  States,  togethr 
er  with  no  incomiderable  portion 
of  the  Law  Merchant. 

Accordingly  we  find,  that  the 
author  in  his  I.  chap,  treats  of  the 
Jaws,  which  regulate  that  portion 
of  the  shipping  of  the  United 
States,  employed  by  the  trading 
and  mercantile  part  of  the  com- 
munity. It  contains  an  analysis 
of  all  the  statutes  relating  to  the 
title,  use,  and  privileges  of  vessels, 
engaged  either  in  the  foreign, 
coasting,  or  fishing  trades.  In  thi^ 
chapter  are  some  ingenious  and 
valuable  observations  on  the  ques* 
tion,  whether  by  a  breach  of  ouir 
navigation  laws  the  ofience  is  in* 
expiable,  an4  the  property  ia  the 
vessel  or  goods  is  thereby  diverted 
from  the  owners,  so  that  a  subset 
quent  sale  would  couvey  no  inter* 
est.  Such  forfeiture  would  aiise 
from  tbe  policy  of  the  navigation 
law,  which  might  be  defeated,  if 
the  property  were  safe  in  the  l^ands 
even  o£  a  bona  fide  purchaser,  for  ^ 
good  consideration. 

The  II.  chap,  treats  of  owner* 
of  ships. 

ITie  III.  chap,  on  "  commercial 
neutrality,"  treats,  first,  on  arti- 
oles  comKd)and  of  war  in  all  cases, 
a^  tbo^e  which  become  so  by  an 
^ccidexxl^  combination  of  circum- 
|ta»pe;i  ;  secondly,  on  the  rccip- 
9)cal  rLjfl^ts  and  duties  of  the  neu- 
tral and  the  i^Uigerent  in  cases  of 
Mykade  »  thirdly,  o^  the  trade 
wliich  the  aeulJeal  niay  carry  on 
^iU^  W%^eAt  nations  ,  and  last* 


iy,  on  the  right  of  visitation  and 
search  claimed  by  belligerents.  It 
concludes  with  a  genei^al  accor.nt 
of  the  proceedings  in  the  admiralty 
in  cases  of  prize.  The  natural  situa- 
tion of  our  country  is  highly  favour- 
ablc,both  for  peace  &  for  commerce, 
and  therefore  the  rights  of  neutrals 
to  curry  on  commerce  with  otlicr 
nations,  which  are  at  war,  are  to 
our  citizens  peculiarly  interesting. 
They  should  be  asserted  with  tlie 
authority  due  to  reason  and  to  the 
usages  of  nations  heretofore,  and 
with  all  the  energy  of  national 
strength.  A  direct  trade  by  neiH 
trals  between  the  colony  and  th^ 
mother  country  of  a  belligerent  is 
contrary  to  the  law  of  nations. 
But  neutrals  have  heretofore  been 
authorised  to  import  the  produce 
of  a  belligerent  into  their  own  ter- 
ritories, and  to  export  it  to  any 
other,  even  to  the  mother  country. 
Where  this  is  done  in  strict  con-r 
jbrmity  with  good  faith,  without 
any  attempt  to  prosecute,  by  a  cir- 
cuitous transportation,  a  commerce 
between  the  colony  and  the  mother 
country,  we  conceive  that  the  trade 
is  authorised  by  the  law  of  nations* 
That  a  neutral  should  be  prohibit- 
ed by  a  belligerent  from  prosecut- 
ing a  commerce  in  war,  because  it 
is  interdicted  in  peace,  is  most  un- 
reasonable. For  a  nation,  as  well 
as  an  individual)  has  the  right  to 
pursue  its  own  interests,  and  to 
?eize  favourable  opportunities,  ci- 
ther for  profit  or  for  glory.  Un- 
less fraud  is  m^de  maiiiiest,  we 
apprehend,  that  no  belligerent  may 
lawfully  interrupt  the  neutral  in 
the  acquisition  of  the  gain,  which 
flowji  from  his  neutral  posiiiicni 
This  chapter  is  almost  entirely 
taken  from  the  celebmted  Reports 
of  Robinson  in  the  Admiralty.  We 
wish  that  the  author  had  beea 
more  minute  in  thut  part  of  it^i^ 
which  relates  to  the  foims  anj^ 


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310 


I.KX   MEftCATOmiA   AMEftICA!ri. 


method  of  proceeding  in  the  admi- 
ralty. Professional  gentlemen  in 
this  country  are  generally  deficient 
in  their  knowledge  of  this  branch 
of  legal  science,  and  have  access 
but  to  few  sources  of  information 
on  the  subject. 

In  chapter  IV.  the  author  treats 
generally  of  masters  of  ships,  as 
acting  for  themselves,  as  repre- 
senting theM"  owners,  and  as  car- 
riers of  the  cargo  laden  on  board. 
He  has  likewise  collected  the  pro- 
visions of  the  general  and  state 
governments,  relative  to  the  trans- 
portation of  citizens,  and  to  the 
importation  of  aliens,  paupers,  and 
offenders  against  the  laws  of  other 
countries. 

Chapter  V.  is  on  bills  of  la- 
ding, in  which  the  author  has 
well  discussed  the  doctrine  of 
**  stoppage  in  transitu.**  From 
the  cases,  which  he  has  diligently 
collected,  it  is  evident,  that  a  con- 
signor has  a  right  to  arrest  goods 
in  their  course,  before  they  hs|vc 
come  to  the  possession  of  the  con- 
signee, if  they  have  not  been  paid 
for,  or  there  is  reasoable  ground 
to  fear  the  insolvency  of  the  con- 
signee. But  as  it  would  offend 
against  common  honesty,  and 
might  be  injurious  to  commerce, 
if  the  consignor  could  prevent 
goods  fro.m  coming  to  the  posses- 
sion of  an  assignee,  to  whom  they 
have  been  transferred  bona  fidey 
and  for  a  valuable  ■  consideration, 
it  is  now  well  settledi  ascording  to 
the  final .  decision  of  the  case  of 
Lickbarrow  against  Mason,  in  the 
courts  of  Westminster,  and  is  now 
*'  the  general  opinion  of  lawyers, 
that  such  an  assignment  does  give 
an  absolute  right  and  propeity 
to  the  assignee,  indefeasible  by 
any  claim  on  the  part  of  the  con- 
signor." 

The  YI.  chapter  contains  an 
ample    collection    of   the  cases. 


which  relate  to  the  carnage  of 
goods,  ekher  by  land  or  water. 

The  VII.  treaU  of  the  rights 
and  duties  of  seamen. 

The  subjects  considered  in  the 
VIII.  are  freight,  charterparty, 
and  demurrage.  In  the  IX.  aver- 
age and  salvage.  In  the  X.  insur- 
ance. In  the  XI.  boUomry  and 
respondentia.  In  the  XII.  mer- 
chants, agents,  fectors,  and  bror 
kei!i.  In  the  XIII.  partnership  ; 
and  in  the  XIV.  bankruptcy.  The 
appendix  contains  fonns  of  papers 
used  at  the  custom  house,  admi- 
ralty precedents,  apd  policies  of 
insurance  ;  together  with  a  copi- 
ous index  of  the  principal  matters 
in  the  volume. 

Every  treatise  on  the  law,  must 
derive  its  value  from  the  corrcctr 
ness  and  fidelity,  with  which  the 
author  collects  and  reports  the 
principles  and  decisions,which  be- 
long to  his  subject. 

In  analyzing  and  digesting  the 
statutes  of  our  government  the  aur 
thor  has  everted  a  very  commendar 
ble  industry.  Compared  with  the 
size  of  the  volume,  and  the  variety 
of  subjects  which  it  contains^  we 
regret,  that  ht  has  been  able  to 
collect  but  so  small  a  number  of 
precedents,  taken  from  decision^ 
in  our  own  couptry.  Either  we 
have  not  yet  learnt  the  art  of  re? 
porting  legal  adjudications,  or  else 
the  occupation  does  not  present, 
to  those  who  are  qualified  for  the 
office,  a  sufficient  prospept  of  gain. 
In  tmth,  while  the  unbounded 
rage  for  speculation,  and  the  vio- 
lence of  ^arty  spirit  universally 
occupy  the  ininds  of  our  citizens 
our  country  will  produce  but  few 
men  eminent  for  literary  accom- 
plishment, and  but  few  examples 
of  professional  excellence. 

In  perusing  this  volume,  we 
have  not  ahvays  subscribed  to  the 
legal  opiniqps  of  the  author>  and 


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LEX  Ml^^CATORIA  AMERIC^}»A, 


311 


ihdted  we  da  not  think,  that  the 
work  derives  its  greatest  vahie 
from  what  may  be  properly  CaHed 
its  original  matter.  In  chapter  II. 
p.  98.  he  says^ 

Ship  owners  acre  tehatitt  in  cbmrooif, 
and  therefore  cannot  bring  trover,  one 
againft  another,  for  running  away  with^ 
and  converting  the  common  property  ; 
becaufe  the  poiTeflion  of  one  it  the  pof- 
feflion  of  all,  and  therefore  no  conver- 
fion  :  but  a  fpecial  action  in  the  cafe 
Would  Kc :  amd  why,  in  cafe  of  an  a&utd 
mtverjwm  hj  a  fait  of  the  etmwtm  pfofttrty, 
trover  might  not  he  irpyght,  I  cannot  toell 
conceive^  It  is  fettled  that  an  ejectment 
may  he  maintained  by  one  tenant  in 
common, agaiuft  another,  after  an  oufler ; 
and  that  though,  in  order  to  work  this, 
a  bare  perception  of  profits  is  not  faf- 
fident,  yet  it  need  not  be  actual ;  for  if, 
on  demand  by  the  co-tenant,  of  his 
moiety,  the  other  refufe  to  pay  it ;  and 
deny  the  title,  fapng  he  claims  the 
whole  and  will  not  pay,  and  continne  in 
pofleiGon  ;  h  is  an  aaverfe  holding,  and 
an  oufter  ;  fo  in  the  cafe  of  a  (hip,  the 
mere  receiving  her  freight  might  not 
amount  to  a  converiion,  but  if  this  be 
accompanied  with  »  denial  of  the  joint 
owners  riglit,  and  an  excluiion  from  the 
pc^<Kffion>  it  would,  I  prefume,  be  diffi- 
cult to  maintain  there  was  not  a  conver- 
fion  ;  the  auithor  is  aware  the  actions  of 
^echnent  and  trover  are  not  exadtly 
analogous  %  that  in  the  former,  pofTeflion, 
in  the  latter,  damages  are  recovered  ; 
aod  that  detinue  would,  according  to 
^  phrafe  of  logicians,  run  more  quatuor 
pedibos ;  but  as  the  reaibo  afligned  why 
trover  cannot  be  fupported  is,  that  the 
pofleiCoo  of  one  tenant  in  common  is 
the  poffeflion  of  the  other,  and  therefore 
DO  cooverfion :  if,  between  fuch  parties, 
an  oufter  can  be  effected,  the  principle  of 
community  of  poiTeflJon  is  gone,  and 
that  being  deftroyed,  the  poflibility  of 
converfion  infhmtly  arifes.  Equity  ex- 
iib,  as  it  is  well  faid,  in  the  fidHons  of 
hw,  but  in  that  combatted,  it  farrely  it 
Bot  to  be  found. 

In  chattel  interefls,  like  thofe  of  (hip- 
ping, the  means  of  recourfe  for  one  own- 
«■  againft  another,  ought,  from  the  fa* 
duty  of  alienation,  rather  to  be  multi- 
plied than  diminiflied.  One  tenant  in 
common  cannot  transfier  the  land  of  his 
co-prpprietor,  btcaule  it  miift  be  cob- 


vejred  by  deed  ;  but  at  m  perfonaltie^ 
a  right  of  DofTelBon  is  fufficient  to  pa(k 
the  ownerihip,  the  difpofition  by  one 
jbinthoMer  of  a  (hip  will  be  good  againift 
his  affociates,  if  followed  by  delivery  of 
poiTeiBon. 

This  opinion  is  imagined  to  be  corredk» 
notwithtunding  the  tstbde  of  conveyance 
pointed  out  by  the  regifter  a<a  ;  for 
though  a  biff  of  fale  be  necefTary  lindet' 
hs  provi(ibns,that  drcumfbnce  does  not^ 
it  is  conceived,  alter  the  legal  nature  of 
the  fub)e<a  matter,  which  continues  ex- 
pofed  to  the  fame  exerdfe  of  power  by 
which  it  wa^  tranfmidlble  before  the  law- 
was  ordained. 

Therefore,  the*  ihod\e  by  which  a  (hij^ 
may  be  fet  over,  remains  for  the  purpofe 
of  veiling  the  intereft,  the  fame  as  at 
common  law,  though  certain  formalities 
are  rcquillte,  in  order  to  entitle  to  a 
regider. 

The  action  of  trover  would  not 
lie  in  behalf  of  one  ship  owner, 
where  the  common  property  had 
been  sold  by  another,  because  the 
sale  would  not  amount  to  a  con- 
version of  the  property,  as  nothing 
would  be  conveyed  by  the  sale,  but 
the  share  of  the  vendor.  There  is  a 
distinction  to  be  observed  between 
joint  owners  and  joint  traders,  or, 
as  they  are  comnoonly  caUed^  co-^ 
partners  in  trade,  where  each  cait' 
by  his  act  bind  the  society,  *<  where 
each  has  the  entire  possession  as 
well  of  every  fiarcel^  as  of  the 
whole,"  and  where  therelbre  a  sale 
or  transfer  by  one  will  convey  the 
interest  of  the  whole.  Mr.  Cain* 
has  in  another  place  (p.  423)  noted 
this  distinction,  obsenkig  of  pro- 
prietors of  a  ship,  that  they  are 
**  tenants  in  common,  and  not  joint 
tenants,"  and  wanting  therefore 
*♦  an  essential  characteristick  in  the 
constitution  of  a  partnership  con- 
cern." The  possession  of  a  ship 
is  not  considered  as  proof  of  own- 
ership ;  and  hence  we  infer,  thai 
when  one  ship  owner  undertakes 
to  sell  and  transfer  the  common 
property,  no  mfire  is  conveyed  thatt 


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i\i 


1£«  ^eneATARlA   AXtftlCAKA. 


the  share  of  the    vendor.     The 

Eurchaser  then  becomes  a  tenant 
i  common  with  the  otlier  owners 
Jbr  that  share  only,  in  the  same 
manner  as  though  the  projJortion 
had  been  expressed  in  the  deed  of 
(ionveyance.  '  If  t\^'o  have  jointly 
by  gift  or  by  buying  a  horse  or  an 
Qxe,  inc.  and  the  one  grant  that  to 
bim  belongs  of  the  same  horse  or 
oxe  to  another,  the  grantee,  and 
the  other  which  did  not  grant,  shall 
have  and  possesse  such  chattels 
g^r^Qiials  10  common.'  Lit.  Ten- 
ure9t  sec.  3QI. 

The  provisions  of  law,  relative 
to  the  evils  which  may  arise  among 
ship  owners,  arc  equal  to  any  oc- 
casions, which  may  occur.     If  one, 
part  owner,  should  run  away  with 
tbe  iHiole  property   against    the 
yff'iWy  and  without  the   knowledge 
4f  the  vest,  it  would  in  moral  con- 
tbmplatioQ  be   a  fVaud,  though  it 
mi^t  be  impoftsible  to  pursue  the 
actor  as  a  felon.     But  as  soon  as 
he  should  come  within  the  reach 
of  the  process  of  the  admiralty,  he 
Blight    be     compelled    either    to 
vesign  the  ppopmy  Or  to  stipulate 
with  his  partners  for  their  securi-^ 
ty.    If  we  are  correct  in  this  point, 
the  remedy  which  the  admiralty 
provides  is  &r  superiour  to  any 
which  could  be  obtained  by  the  ac- 
tion of  trover,  or  by  any  other  of 
the  comparatively  slow  forms  of 
the    common  law.      Should  this 
hoo^n  ever  come  to  a  second  edi-* 
tion,  we  recommend  to  the  author- 
a  careful   revlsol  of  this  chapter, 
and  ^eg  leave  to  refef  him  to  the 
fearaediiote  of  Serjeant  Williams- 
on^ the  aOaon  of  trover,  2  Saunder's 
Repoits  47.,  frcsm  which  we  ex- 
tract  the  ibllowing  observation  : 
<-If  one  joint  tenant,  tenant  m  com- 
mon or  pa^rc^ner,  de9iroy  the  thing 
in  common,  the  other  may  brings 
trover.    Co.  Lit.  200  a.      Thcre^ 
ibre  wliere  one  tcdiMit  in^  comioon 


ef  a  ship  took  it  away,  and  aent  i| 
to  the  West  Indies,  where  it  was 
lost  in  a  storm,  this  was  held  hf 
King  C.  I.  of  the  C.  B.  to  be  evi- 
dence of  a  destruction,  and  the  jury 
under  his  directions  found  it  to  be 
so.     Bull.  N.  P.  34,  5i.' 

We  sincerely  regret,  that  the 
author  was  not  more  patient  in  di- 
gesting and  arranging  his  mate- 
rials into  form  and  order.  From 
the  appearance  of  the  woi^  we  are 
led  to  judge,  that  it  is  the  juvenile 
production  of  a  student,  who  mis- 
took laborious  compilation  of  notes 
for  learning.  Treatises  of  such 
magnitude  arc  intended  principally 
for  reference  ^d  easy  access  ;  on 
which  accoant  a  lucid  division  of 
the  subject  is  essential.  But  the 
doctrines  and  princij^es,  contained 
under  many  of  the  titles  in  this 
book*  are  blended  togetj^^r,  with- 
out form  or  Go»ijili«ess.  They 
remind  us  of  the  primitive  state  c^ 
things,  described  by  the  poets,  as 

9*  radk  et  tfne  iougioe  tdiBi.f 

The  reader  wijl  be  convinced  of 
this,  without  comparing  it  with 
the  celebrated  treatise  of  Abbot 
"  on  the  L^^y  relative  to  Merchant 
Ships  and  Seamen,"  a  wqr^  of 
standard  authority,  and  a^  adinir 
rable  for  its  style  and  manner,  aa; 
for  its  legal  correctness* 

The  style  of  this  wori^  is  by  no 
t^ans  worthy  o(  Rrai^e.  The  au- 
thor soi^etime^  aSc.cts.  >u^coQ^on 
degance  in  his  perioda.  In  chap? 
ter  IV.,  speaking  of  a  la^  of  Vir- 
ginia; which  forbids  niastcrs  of 
y^s^els  to  cai^rjr  any  person  put  of 
t^a^  con^tnojiwealtl;),  up^sj^  siich 
person  shall  have  hrsJL  pubU%]|edy 
for  six  months  successivdy  in  the 
Virginia  Gazette,  his  resolution  to 
depart  therefrom,  the  writer  ^dd^ 
^\(hisi  fiuilicj:  affveriisetnerjii  ^^?ig 
llisgivk  co4$  4*  hardly  comt^ti^lf^ 


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DR.  LATHEOP'S   DISCOURSC. 


313 


Hem  liberty,'^  (p.  136.)  We  are 
gratified  with  elegance  of  style, 
wherever  it  occurs,  and  do  not 
think,  that  it  is  excluded  from  the 
most  abstract  legal  subject.  But 
passages  like  the  above  thrown 
into  a  book,  the  general  character 
of  whose  style  is  rather  below  the 
plain,*  have  a  fantastick  appear- 
ance. Like  the  feast  of  a  beggar, 
they  serve  to  render  the  ordinary 
fare  of  the  year  still  more  disgusting. 
In  concluding  our  notlbe  of  this 
•work  we  would  observe,  that  not 
to  expect  fierfection  is  as  just  a 
caution,  when  applied  to  books,  as 
to  men.  So  far  as  charity  is  con- 
sistent with  the  moral  progress  of 
the  human  character,  its  observ- 
ance is  a  precept  of  religion  ;  and 
so  far  as  tenderness  to  the  imper- 
fect literary  attempts  of  our  coun- 
trymen will  not  tend  to  diminish 
the  activity  of  their  genius,  and  to 
foster  the  spirit  of  indolence,  so 
delicious  and  so  powerful,  we  feel 
bound  to  indulge  it,  in  surveying 
the  domestick  publications  of  our 
country. 

ART.   34. 

Illu9trati(ms  and  Reflections  on  the 

•  story  of  SauPa  consulting'  the 
witch  of  Endor  :  a  discourse^  dc' 
iivcred  at  West  Sfiringfleld^  by 
Joseph  Lathrofij  D,  D,  pastor  of 

•  the  first  church  in    said  town, 
'    Springfield,  Brewer,  1806.  8t;o. 

/A.  20. 

The  character  of  Dr.  Lathrop, 
as  a  preacher,  stands  deservedly 

*  In  the  folloWng  p^a^,  which  oc* 
tun  in  page  67,  the  author  ufes  an  ex- 
prcCdaa,  which  is  fcarcely  admiflible  in 
the  plained  ftyle  i  •*  The  forfeitures  for 
transferring  veifcls  to  aliens  and  non* 
cefidents,  under  the  a€h  regulating  their 
rfgi^ing,  recordibg;  enrolling  and  U- 
cencipg»  JluJk  hy  thf  (lup  as  lcu)g,as  (he 
Ia(h,  and  are  in  the  revenue  creed  inex- 
piable  fins." 

Vol.  III.  No.  a.  2  Q 


high  ;  and  if  it  should  not  be  in- 
creased, will  certainly  receive  no 
diminution,  by  the  present  publi- 
cation. The  Dr.  treats  his  sub- 
ject in  a  rational  manner,  and 
deduces  from  it  the  three  follow- 
ing inferences  :  1.  That  we  are 
taught  from  it  the  separate  exist- 
ence of  the  soul  after  death.  2, 
That  we  may  infer  from  it  that 
the  spirits  of  pious  men  were  for- 
merly, and  may  be  still,  on  some 
occasions,  employed  as  ministers 
of  God's  providence  in  this  world. 
3.  That  we  are  warned  by  it  of 
the  guilt  and  danger  which  we  in- 
cur, when  we  take  indirect  mea- 
sures to  learn  the  secrets  of  Provi- 
dence, and  the  events  of  futurity. 
In  his  second  inference,  the  Dr. 
is  supported  by  the  authority  of 
the  best  English  divines,  who  at- 
tempt to  prove,  on  scriptural 
grounds,  the  existence  of  angels, 
and  their  occasional  interference 
with  the  concerns  of  men.  Mil- 
ton, who  was  no  despicable  theo- 
logian, carries  the  idea  still  farther, 
and  supposes  that  malignant,  as 
Well  as  benevolent  spirits,  are  ac- 
tive though  invisible  agents  m  tliis 
lower  world. 

spirits,  when  they  please. 
Can  execute  their  airy  p'trposcs. 
And  works  of  love  or  enmity  fulfil. 

The  style  of  this  discourse  is 
heat  and  perspicuous,  and  we  shall 
subjoin  an  extract,  in  which  the 
Dr.  exposes,  with  great  good  sense, 
the  folfy  and  danger  of  giving  cre- 
dit to  village  conjurers  and  pre- 
tended adepts  in  the  black  art. 

Let  ut  (uppofe  that  people  generally 
give  credit  to  fuch  perfons  ;  and  then 
fee  what  will  be  the  confequeiice.  A 
cafualty  happens.or  forae  mifchlef  is  done 
in  our  neighbourhood  ;  a  ham  is  burned, 
or  a  man  is  milBn^,  poflibly  dead,  or 
jpiroperty  h  loft.  W6  know  not  how  ; 
but  we.  rurfe<Sk,  it  5i  done  by  Ibme  de- 
(igning  villain.  We  difpatch  a  meflen- 
ger  to  the  conjurer.      What  is  the  moral 


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iu 


LIFE  OF   MOREAU. 


charadler  of  thit  conjurer,  we  know  not, 
nor  do  we  much  care.  It  is  not  the  man, 
but  the  conjurer  with  whom  we  ar* 
now  concerned.  If  we  cannot  truft  him 
in  any  other  capacity,  yet  we  can  truft 
him  in  this.  The  meflcnger  goes  and 
open*  his  bufiaefs ;  an  anfwer  is  giveir 
importing,  that  the  mifchief  was  perpe- 
trated by  a  certain  man  of  fuch  a  defcrip- 
tion.  We  think  of  fomebody,  to  whom 
the  dcfcription^  with  a  Kttle  help  of  ima- 
gination, will  fuit  tolerably  well.  Ot 
perhaps  the  melTenger  has  an  enemy 
whom  he  fufpeas,  and  prejudice  win 
eafily  modify  the  pNr€kure  fo  as  to  repre- 
fent  him.  A  hint  is  given — it  is  thrown 
into  circulation — it  gains  credit ;  and  an^ 
honeft  man  is  ruined.  Thus  divination, 
when  it  is  held  in  general  repute,  puts 
it  in  every  man*s  power  to  deftroy  every 
man,  whom  he  will. 

Why  do  you  willi  to  know  the  au- 
thor of  a  mifchief  which  has  been  done  ? 
You  will  fay,  You  wifli  the  villain  may 
be  pnnHlied,  the  injury  repaired,  and 
evil  prevented.  Very  well  :  Tlien  take 
the  proper  fteps  to  deteA  and  arreft  the 
offender.  If  a  conjurer  points  out  fuch, 
or  fuch  a  perfon,  as  the  criminal,  he  may 
indeed  gratify  your  curiohty,  and  per- 
baps  your  malice  ;  but  he  docs  no  good 
tofociety.  His  fuggeftion  is  not  evi- 
dence, on  which  Uie  fuppofed  perpe- 
trator can  be  convidbed.  If  it  was,  no 
mortal  would  be  fafe.  You  perhaps  be- 
Keve  the  infinuaiion,  and  you  make 
others  believe  it.  But  when  the  general 
fufpicion  foils  on  an  innocent  man,  in- 
•veftigaiion  (lops  ;  this  innocent  man  fuf- 
fers  the  reproach,  and  the  really  guilty 
lies  unfufpetfled,  and  efcapes  unpuniihed. 
And  when  a  new  mifchief  happens,  the 
fame  fcene  may  be  a<fled  over  again. 

On  focial,  therefore,  as  weH  as  on  re- 
Hgious  principles,  thefe  diviners  ought 
to  be  profecuted,  rather  than  encouraged 
— ^to  be  puuiihed,rather  than  patronized. 
Judge  Bhckftone  fays,  that  "  pretending 
to  tell  fortunes,  and  to  difcover  ftolen 
g(4ods  by  fkill  in  the  occult  fciences,  is  a 
mifdemeanour,  defervedly  punifhed  by 
law."  The  reafon  why  it  •  deferves  pu- 
ni(hment  is,  becaufe  it  not  only- tends  to 
fubvert  religion  but  alfo  to  difturb  the 
peace  of  fociety,  and  deftroy  the  reputa- 
tion and  fecurity  of  every  virtuous 
member. 


ART.   25. 

The  U/e  and  Camfiaigns  of  Ptcfi>r 
MoreaUj  comprehending  Ida  trials 
justification^  and  other  events^  ti&l 
the  fieriod  of  hia  embarkation  for 
the  United  Siatea.  By  an  officer 
of  the  staff.  Translated  from  the 
French,  New-York,  published 
by  Riley  &  Co.     1806.     \%mo. 

fifi.  aas. 

The  translator  or  compiler  of 
this  piece  of  biography  is  a  Mr. 
John  Davis,  who,  we  would  in-^ 
form  our  readers,  as  otherwise 
they  would  not  probably  know  it, 
has  published  some  poems,  and  a 
volume  of  travels  through  the  U- 
nited  States,  For  what  parts  of 
this  work  we  are  indebted  to  the 
orighml  genius  of  Mr.  Davis,  w& 
are  unable  to  discover^  as  he  has 
left  us  no  criterion,  by  which  we 
can  distinguish  his  own  ingenuity 
from  that  of  his  author.  We  must 
consider  the  whole,  therefore,  as 
the  work  of  Mr.  Davis,  since  he 
has  most  heroically  taken  its  rc^- 
sponsibility  upon  himself.  But 
let  us  hear  Mr.  Davis  in  person » 
"  I  am  not  the  negative  translator 
of  the  book,  that  has  been  put  in-^ 
to  my  hands.  I  have  felt  an  ar- 
dour to  supply  a  work,  that  should 
gratify  inquiry^  and  where  I  found 
Uie  original  wanting  in  information, 
I  have  made  up  the  deficiency  by 
laborious,  patient,  and  persevering 
research.  Hence  my  volume  will 
not  suffer  by  a  comparison  with 
the  original,  whose  characteristick 
is  detail."  Again.  "If  the  moral 
character  of  the  generals  be  de- 
veloped, and  the  attractions  of  bi- 
ography engrafted  on  history,  tl^e 
reader  is  indebted  to  the  zeal,  dili- 
gence, and  inquiry  of  Ae  transla- 
tor.** 

This  is  modest,  still  to  call  him- 
self a  translator,  after  these  high 
claims  on  the- approfaAtioa  of.  the 


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HISTORICAL   COLLECTIONS. 


Si5 


publick.  Quere,  what  are  we  to 
tinderstand  by  a  negative  transla* 
tor? 

The  following  portrait  of  the 
archduke  Charles  may  gratify  the 
curiosity  of  the  American  publick. 

The  young  prince  wu  an  ilkitlrions 
■opponent  for  Moreau  at  the  opening  of 
JiiB  campaign.  He  was  confpicuous  for 
Jiis  talents,  bravery,  and  conduct.  He 
was  the  Idol  of  hit  foldiert,  in  great  pub- 
lick  efHmation,  and  the  rofe  and  expec- 
tancy of  the  country  that  gave  him 
;birth.  He  was  of  a  middle  ftature,  well 
proportioned,  but  thin ;  light  hair,  high 
forehead,  large  blue  eyes,  an  aquiline 
aofe,  pale  lips,  round  chin,  Ind  of  a  frefli 
and  rofy  complexion.  His  look  was 
pleafing,  his  manners  princely,  his  de- 
portment majelHck. 

This  picture  is  well-drawn,  and 
makes  us  acquainted  with  the  per- 
son of  a  hero,  who  long  since 
might  have  rescued  continental 
Europe  from  the  disgraceful  chains 
of  Gallick  slavery,  had  not  his  ge- 
nius been  checked,  and  his  plans 
thwarted  by  the  mean  jealousies 
ci  his  own  infatuated  court.  There 
18  a  defect,  however,  in  the  third 
sentence,  where  there  are  several 
Bominatives  without  a  verb. 

«  Ferino  was  given  the  com- 
raaod  of  the  right  wing."  This 
is  not  English.  He  should  have 
written.  The  command  of  the  right 
was  given  to  Ferino. 

Mr.  Davis  occasionally  attempts 
the  pathetick. 

That  day  rofe  on  them  panting  for  re- 
nown, whofe  night  faw  them  motionleiii 
on  the  crimfoned  plain.  On  what  a 
ilender  thread  bangs  the  defhny  of  man  ! 
Quenched  in  a  moment  were  their  glo- 
rious fires  of  intelledhial  valour.  Cni(h- 
ed  was  every  hope  they  had  fondly  cher- 
ished of  being  prefled  again  to  the  heav* 
ing  beauties  of  their  m((fa*efles  at  home, 
who  breathed  for  them  their  deep  pray- 
ers, and  in  whofe  jighs  for  their  abfence 
was  mingled  the  murmur  of  love  !  Fare- 
well to  hope  !  Farewell  to  earthly  blifs ! 
No  more  were  they  to  witnels  the  en- 
dearing fmile,  no  more  to  enjoy  the  fairy 
favoun  of  beauty  1 


This  is  on  a  level  yvith  the  style 
of  a  lady's  maid,  in  her  first  essay 
at  novel-writing. 

If  any  doubt  should  remain  of 
the  modesty  of  Mr.  Davis,  the  fol- 
lowing note  must  remove  it. 

The  int^ligent  reader  wiH  percetve, 
that  wherever  a  difquifuion  appears,  or 
reflexion  is  exerciied,  (whether  in  a 
whole  chapter  or  detaclied  paflages)  it 
does  not  emanate  from  the  French  vert>um 
fapienti. 

Mr.  Davis  is  not  very  accurate 
in  his  language,  nor  well  foimded 
in  all  his  assertions.  He  uses  the 
neuter  v«rb  glide  in  an  active  sense, 
('  where  the  Seine  gUdes  its  waves*) 
contrary  to  established  usage,  and 
affirms  that  General  Moreau 
*  transcends  Xenophon  in  a  mili- 
tary capacity,  and  rivals  him  as  a 
scholar.' 

That  the  General  is  a  great 
soldier,  no  one  will  deny,  but,  that 
his  literary  talents  equal  those  of 
the  all-accomplished  Athenian,  is 
an  assertion,  which  requti*es  bet- 
ter evidence,  than  the  mere  ijiae 
dixit  of  Mr.  Davis. 

On  the  whole,  this  Work  is  a 
catch-penny  production,  and  adds 
nothing  to  the  wealth  of  literature, 
or  to  the  reputation  of  the  writer. 


ART.  26. 

CoUectioTu  of  the  MasaachuaettM 
Hiatorical  Society  for  the  year 
1799.  Vol.  VI.  Boston,  S, 
Hall.     Svo.pfi.2SS. 

We  have  now  advanced,  in  the 
irregular  course  of  our  criticismi 
to  the  sixth  volume  of  the  Histor- 
ical Collections.  As  in  our  for- 
mer reviews  we  have  stated  so 
fully  the  importance  and  the  dry- 
ness of  the  documents  in  general, 
their  value  to  the  regular  annalistt 
and  their  indifference  to  the  ordin- 
ary reader^  we  shall  spend  no  fur- 


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316 


BI6T0BICAL  COLLECTIOKS. 


ther  time  on  these  or  collateral 
topicks,  but  shall  proceed  to  a  cur- 
sory statement  of  the  papers  in 
this  volume.  Before,  however,  we 
begin  our  cdlical  duty,  we  shall 
say  a  few  words  on  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Clarke's  and  Rev.  Dr.  Belknap's 
characters,  of  which  some  account 
is  prefixed  to  the  work. 

Dr.  Clarke  has  been  estimated 
too  highly  as  a  man  of  letters,  both 
in  general  conversation  and  in  the 
volume  before  us.  He  certainly 
"Was  not  a  scholar  of  the  first  or 
the  second  class.  Unquestionably 
he  was  a  man  of  the  mildest  dis- 
position, of  the  n)ost  amiable  tem- 
per, and  of  ^a$y,  ui^assuming 
deportment.  These  are  qualities 
ulways  important  and  highly  comr 
mendatory  ;  and  in  Dr.  Clarke 
they  originated  a  course  of  con- 
duct, as  a  man,  a  christen,  and  a 
preacher,  perfectly  correspondent. 
But  to  celebrate  him  "  as  distinr 
guis!>cd  in  the  literary  world,"  as 
"no  common  proficient  in  th?  libr 
eral  arts  and  sciences,"  is  a  benev- 
olent extension  of  eulogy,  which 
resembles  a  glaring,  though  unin- 
tentional violation  of  truth.  It  is 
aUo  highly  detrimental  to  our  lit- 
erature, because  it  stops  the  pro- 
gress of  ambition  ;  and  it  is  in- 
jurious to  our  repQwn  in  Europe, 
because  foreign  scholars  in  vain 
seek  for  erudition  or  literature  in 
the  writings  of  Dr.  Clarke  ;  and 
they  have  a  right  to  contend,  as 
perfectly  applicable,  what  we  are 
disposed  to  consider  as  probably 
true,  that  "  dc  non  apparenlibus  et 
de  non  existentibus  eadcm  est  ra- 
tio." 

The  Rev.  Dr.  Belknap  is  a  dif- 
ferent character.  His  writings  ex- 
hibit large  extent  of  research, 
much  depth  of  investigation,  and 
variety  of  knowledge.  Hfr  knew  • 
something  of  phvsical  science: 
He  chiefly  delightedf  like  the  Gtr- 


man  literati,  in  laborious  operation) 
yet  in  his  Foresters  he  is  easy, 
cheerful,  and  witty.  We  do  not 
mean,  that  even  Belknap  was  a 
great  scholar  in  the  dignified  ac- 
ceptation of  the  term,  but  his  rid- 
ing was  very  extensive,  his  infor- 
mation remarkably  varied,  and  his 
reflections  clear,  full,  and  efficient. 
This  conclusion  e?isily  results  from 
a  perusal  of  all  his  works,  particu* 
larly  *  the  History  of  New^Hamp- 
shire,'  <  the  Century  discourse/ 
and  'the  American  Biography.* 

In  our  opinions  of  literary  men  pf 
this  country  we  are  always  cau- 
tious, and  therefore  we  wish  to  be 
clearly  understood.  Eulogy  here 
is  perfectly  absurd.  It  is  either 
the  vilest  daubing  of  colours,  or 
the  most  grotesque  caricature  of 
expression.  If  a  man  write  an 
historical  work,  he  becomes  a  Sal- 
lust  ;  if  he  stitch  together  doggrel 
couplets  against  democracy,  he  is 
transformed  into  a  Butler  ;  preach- 
ers have  been  likened  to  Masillon  ; 
and,  by  some  strange,  incompre- 
hcnsible  metempsychosis,  Anto- 
nius  and  Crassus  of  the  Roman 
forum  are  revived  in  more  than 
former  splendour  in  the  persons  of 
American  pleaders. 

"  Remarks  made  during  a  resi- 
dence at  Stabix>ek  Rio  Demerary, 
lat.  6.  10.  N.  in  the  latter  part  of 
the  year  1798.  By  Thomas  Piei^ 
ronet." 

This  paper  contains  much  curi- 
ous information,  and  some  valu- 
able facts.  We  submit  the  follow* 
ing  to  our  readers. 

The  interlpur  will  probably  never  be 
brought  to  a  ft;te  of  cultivation,  owing 
to  the  want  of  drainage  ;  or  at  leaft  the 
IracSk  fixiy  miles  from  the  fea,  which  i»  a 
vaft  drowned  fwamp.  All  the  improve- 
inents  have  been  hitherto  made  on  the 
fea-coaft,  and  on  tjie  banks  of  the  rivers, 
and  very  rarely  has  a  plantation  been 
carried  farther  back.  The  labour  in 
forming  a  new  plantation  is  immenfe. 


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HISTORICAL    COLLECTIONS. 


Sir 


and  can  only  be  eflimated  by  thofe  '^^ho 
have  been  fpetftators  thereof. 

The  produce  of  thefe  fettlements  are 
coffcet  cotton,  and  fugar.  Of  thefe,  cot- 
ton is  fuppofed  to  be  the  moft  precari- 
ous crop.  Too  much  rain  rots  it, and  a 
fuccelfion  pf  dry  weather  caufes  it  to 
blaft.  Coffee,  on  the  contrary,  ha»  no- 
thing to  fear,  except  from  too  much  wet. 
Several  edates  make  a  good  revenue 
from  their  plantain  walks;  a  bunch  of 
which  previous  to  the  importation  of 
€0,000  Haves  by  the  Engiifh  into  the 
colony,  was  fold  for  2^  ftivert,  but  now 
fetches  12^. 

Animal  labour  is  totally  excluded,  un- 
lefs  it  be  that  of  the  horfe,  when  ufed 
for  the  faddle  or  chair.  This  is  not  fo 
much  to  be  wondered  at,  when  it  is  con- 
lidered,  that  the  low  country  does  not 
produce  even  a  pebble.  A  team  of  oxen 
or  horfes^  with  a  heavy  draught,  would 
dcflroy  fhe  bed  road  in  Demerary  in  the 
rainy  feafon.  A»  for  the  interiour,  the 
ibil  i«  fo  fwatnpy,  that  an  animal  of 
burthen  would  fink  to  its  belly  at  every 
ftep.  However,  the  colonids  contrive  to 
ioterre<ft  the  country  with  fuch  a  multi- 
tude of  canals,  that  the  heavicU  articles 
are  delivered  them  at  a  very  cheap  rate. 

The  cutting  of  grafs  is  very  laborious 
and  tirefome  ;  and  as  it  is  the  only  her- 
baceous food  of  the  horfes,it  is  necefTary 
to  procure  great  quantities  of  it.  The 
only  way  ufed  here,  to  obtain  it,  is  by 
fending  out  the  negroes  with  a  knife,  who 
by  this  tedious  operation,  each  one  at 
length  coIle<^s  a  bundle,  which  may 
weigh  eighty  pounds,  which  he  binds 
like  a  wheat  fheaf,  and  carries  otT.  It  is 
remarkable,  that  the  fcythe,  fickle,  flail, 
plough,  waggon,  or  even  hand-barrow, 
are  abfolutely  unknown  in  the  colony. 

Negroeu  The  negroes  are  fubilfted  at 
a  very  eafy  rate  ;  a  bunch  of  plantains, 
which  will  lad  them  a  week,  and  a  little 
falt-fiHi,  form  their  delicacies.  As  for 
their  clothing,  the  far  greater  part  of 
them  have  only  a  narrow  drip  of  bunt- 
ing to  bind  round  their  middle,  while 
■uny  of  the  younger  clafles  have  not 
eveti  this  ornament.  However,  in  fome 
families  they  are  comfortably  clothed, 
and  fed  with  fcraps,  which  have  reached 
the  fecond  day.  Their  lodgings  are, 
however,  on  the  bare  floor,  where  they 
l^enerally  lay  promifcuoufly. 

They  are  punifbed  very  feverely; 
althuugh  it  depends  very  much  on  th^ 
difpoGtion  of  their  owners,  whether  they 
%fi  through  a  condant  whipping,  or  wbe« 


ther  they  experience  a  milder  fate 
Theft  anddefertion  are  generally  left  to 
the  fifcal,  whofe  agents  apply  from  two 
to  five  hundred  lailies  (according  to  their 
fentence)  with  a  long  whip,  which  lace- 
rates them  horridly.  Thefe  ladies  art 
always  applied  on  the  bare  breech,  and 
the  culprit  prevented  from  fitting  there- 
on for  three  months. 

Crimes  of  greater  magnitude  are  ei- 
tenuated  by  the  rack  ,aud  fubfequent  de- 
capitation. 

The  negroes  are  allowed  the  privilege 
of  the  Sunday,  when  they  come  into  the 
town,  either  to  work  in  cleaning  out  the 
trenches,  &c.  or,  with  a  load  of  fruit  or 
vegetables,  which  they  difpofe  of  for 
their  own  emolument.  After  they  have 
received  the  amount  of  their  perquifite, 
they  either  lay  out  the  money  in  procur- 
ing fome  little  necefl^ries,  or  otherwife 
in  drinking,  gambling,  and  dancing; 
and  the  day  is  generally  concluded  by 
one  or  more  battles. 

"  Specimen  of  the  Mountaineer, 
or  Sheshalapoosbshcish,  SkofBe, 
and  Micmac  Lanp^ages." 

The  '\t)cabularic8  add  to  our 
knowledge  of  Indian  lan^a'ges. 
The  atitbor's  source  of  information 
is  apparently  good,  yet  what  is  the 
reason  that  he  does  not  tell  his  own 
name  ?  He  often  is  known  by  the 
cmphatical  I  ;  but  now,  for  the 
first  time  in  the  world,  a  personal 
pronoun  designates  nobody,  except 
a  metaphysical  entity. 

"  Gener/  John  Winslow's  Let- 
ter to  the  Earl  of  Halifax,  relative 
to  his  conduct,  and  that  of  the 
troops  under  his  command,  on  the 
Ticonderogo  expedition  in  1756." 

As  General  W.  was  "  the  only 
person,  who  had  been  in  the  whole 
of  these  matters,"  he  is  entitled  to 
be  heard,  and  his  narrative  has  the 
the  appearance  of  candour  and  fi- 
delity. 

"  Secretary  Willard's  Letter  to 
Mr.  DoUan,  agent  for  the  colony 
of  Massachusetts-Bay,  relative  to 
the  failure  of  Crown-Point  expedi- 
tion, and  reimbursement  from  G- 
Britain." 


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3\S 


HIST0RIC4L  C0LLECTI9KS. 


"  Letter  from  William  BoUan, 
-agent  for  the  colony  of  Massachu- 
setts-Bay, to  the  speaker  of  the 
house  of  assembly  of  that  colony." 

"  A  memorandum  of  divers  par- 
ticularSf  shewing  the  exhausted 
state  of  Massachusetts  province, 
and  the  necessity  of  a  considerable 
parliamentary  grant,  to  relieve  its 
distress,  and  enable  it  to  answer 
the  demands  for  the  publick  ser- 
vice in  the  next  campaign,  refer- 
red to  in  the  preceding  letter." 

From    various    documents    in 
•  these  Collections,  Mr. Bollan  seems 
to  have  been  a  most  active,  faithful 
colonial  agent.     In  the  civil  his- 
tory of  Massachusetts  he  is  often 
'  mentioned  with  honour.     His  va- 
rious memorials,    p>etitions,    and 
statements  shew  a  mind  replete 
"with  proper  information   for  the 
benefit  of  the  colonies,  and  if.  he 
was  as  respectable  in  piivate  life, 
as  he  was  diligent  and  laborious  in 
publick  exertions,  the  state  of  Mas- 
,  sachusetts  ought  not  willingly  to 
Jet  his  memory  die. 

«  A  brief  state  of  the  province 
pf  Quebec,  as  to  its  constitution, 
number  of  inhabitants,  laws,  com- 
merce, population,  circulating  pro- 
perty, tenure  of  real  property,  sci- 
ence. Sec.  written  in  the  year  1787." 

This  paper  may  be  consulted 
with  some  advantage.  The  ofRcial 
information  is  good,  because  cor- 
rect ;  but  facts  have  shown  many 
of  the  commercial  opinions  to  be 
•false.  It  will  give  some  idea  of 
the  colony  of  Canada  in  1786,  but 
^ince  that  period  new  laws  of  par- 
liament, treaties,  and  the  growth 
of  the  United  States  have  various* 
Jy  affected  that  country  in  its  set* 
tlement,  fur  trade,  civilization, 
£ommerce,and  agriculture. 

^<  Continuation  of  the  narratjive 
of  newspapers  published  in  New- 
England,  from  the  year  1 704  to 
the  revolution;    in  a  JcUer  from 


one  the  members  to  the  president 
the  society." 

This  memoir  continues  the  his- 
tory of  New-England  newspapers 
to  the  year  1770—2.  It  is  inter- 
spersed with  various  information 
and  minute  political  literature. 
There  is  a  queemess  and  a  quaint- 
ness  in  the  narrative,  which  re- 
sembles the  manner  of  a  pleasant 
old  gentleman  telling  curious  an- 
ecdotes of  times  before  the  revolu- 
tion. It  concludes  with  an  ac- 
count of  Connecticut  newspapers 
by  Mr.  Noah  Webster. 

"  Mr.  Dummer's  letters  to  Mr. 
Flint." 

*'  James  Cudworth*s  letter  to 
Govemour  Josiah  Winslow,  de- 
clining his  appointment  to  a  mili- 
tary command." 

In  a  note,  added  to  explain  this 
letter,  it  is  mentioned  as  probaUey 
that  the  writer  was  appointed  to 
the  command  of  certain  forces, 
raised  on  account  of  a  sudden 
alarm  that  the  Dutch  had  taken 
some  ships  in  Virginia,  and  having 
possessed  themselves  of  New- York, 
were  bound  for  the  northward  ; 
but  from  Hutchinson  it  is  clear, 
that  the  news  did  not  arrive  at  Bos- 
ton till  August,  1678,  and  Cud- 
worth's  letter  is  dated  in  January 
1673.  The  letter  deserves  peru-^ 
sal  from  its  patriarchal  simplicity. 

«  James  Cudworth's  letter  to 
Gov.  Josiah  Winslow." 

This  letter  was  written  during 
the. first  expedition  against  Phifip. 

"Letter  from  John  Easton  to 
Govemour  Josiah  Winslow  of  Ply- 
mouth colony." 

Explanatory  of  the  Indian  law 
respecting  ship-wrecked  goods. 

"Letter  from  Nathaniel  Thonlas, 
on  the  expedition  against  Philipi 
to  Govemour  Winslow." 

"  A  Letter  from  Secretary  Raw** 
son  to  Govemour  Winslow,  to  be 
cofumunicated  to  the  Council/' 


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HISTORICAL   COLLECTIONS. 


919 


This  letter  is  dated  Boston,  14 
March,  1673—4,  and  relates  some 
proceedings  of  the  government  of 
Massachusetts  in  reference  to  "  the 
late  and  present  actings  of  the 
Dutch  in  the  sound." 

"  Letter  from  Gov-  Leverett  to 
Gov.  Winslow." 

«  Letter  from  Edward  Palmer 
to  Govemour  Josiah  Winslo^v.", 

"  Letter  from  John  Freeman  ta 
Gov.  Winslow/' 

.  <<  Return  of  loss^  in  Scituate,  in 
Philip's  war." 

These  relate  to  Indian  wars  in 
1675 — 6. 

"  Edward  Randolph's  letter  to 
Govemour  Josiah  Winslow,  rela- 
tive to  his  proceedings  at  Piscata- 
qua." 

"  Sachem  Philip,  his  answer  to 
the  letter  brought  to  him  from  the 
Govemour  of  New-Plymouth." 

«  Edward  Rawson's  letter  to  the 
Govemour  of  New-Plymouth,  so- 
liciting aid  for  the  college  kt  Cam^ 
bridge." 

.  **  Letter  oi  instructions  from  the 
Massachusetts  General  Court  to 
William  Bollan,  their  agent  at  the 
court  9^  Great-Britain." 

These  instructions  were  made 
in  1756,  to  assist  Mr.  Bollan  in  an 
humble  and  earnest  application  to 
)iis  majesty  for  relief  from  the 
grievous  burden  the  province  was 
under  from  the  impressing  of  sea- 
men,  fishermen,  and  others,  for 
the  manning  of  his  majesty's  ships 
of  war. 

"Letter  from  Leonard  Hoar, 
M.D.  to  Josiah  Flmt." 

In  this  long  letter  much  advice 
is  given  upon  studying,  and  com- 
mon place  books  or  paper  books, 
as  the  writer  calls  them.  It  is  cu- 
rious to  observe,  what  books  were 
once  read  and  recommended.  Pe* 
ter  Ramus,  who  now  is  hardly 
consulted  even  by  the  metaphysi- 
cian, is  m  this  letter  extolled,  as 


"  the  grand,  the  incomparable." 
Dr.Ames's  Medulla  is  known  only 
to  the  reader  of  catalogues.,  And 
for  direction  and  encouragement 
in  devotional  exercises  and  holy 
meditation  who  would  now  read 
«  The  practice  of  Augustine,  Ber- 
nard, or  Gerard  ;  or  of  more  mod- 
em worthies  J.  Ambrose,  R.  Bax- 
ter, B.  Hall,  or  W.  Watson,  as 
tp  the  theoretical  part"  ?  The 
works  of  these  men  are  now  the 
secure  lodgments  of  spiders,  book 
lice  and  flies  in  winter.  Their 
merit  is  almost  unknoven  even  to 
the  theological  inquirer.  They 
lay  in  old  libraries,  as  long  lances 
and  baronial  shields  In  gothick 
armouries,  testimonials  of  ancient 
elaboration  and  gradual  decay. 

**  Some  memoirs  for  the  contin- 
uation of  the  history  of  the  trou- 
bles  of  the  New-English  ccionios, 
from  the  barbarous  and  perfidious 
Indians,  instigated  by  the  more 
savage  and  inhuman  French  of 
Canada  and  Nova-Scotsa.  Begaa 
Nov.  3,  1726.  By  Benjamin  Col- 
man,  D.  D." 

"  Letter  from  Henry  Newman^ 
to  the  Rev.  Henry  Flynt." 

Upon  some  books  for  Harvard 
College. 

**  Letter  from  Paul  Mascarenc 
to  Govemour  Shirley  7' 

This  relates  to  the  history  of  the 
government  of  Nova-Scotia  from 
1710  to  1748  with  suggestions  of 
amendments. 

"  Prince  and  Bosworth'^  petition 
to  the  government  of  Plymouth, 
relative  to  the  mackarel  fishery,"" 

«  Letter  from  William  Bollan, 
agent  for  the  Massachusetts,  at  the 
court  of  Great-Britain,  to  Josiah 
Willard,  secretary  of  that  province, 
respecting  an  intention  of  govern* 
ing  the  colonies  like  Ireland." 

"  Mr.  BoUan's  petition  to  tii^ 
duke  of  Bedford,  relative  to  ^ceAch 
encroachments,  1748." 


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330 


HISTORICAL   COLLECTIONS. 


This  is  an  important  historical 
&nd  geographical  document,  and 
ought  to  be  read  by  him,  who 
wishes  to  understand  the  whole 
reasons  of  the  war,  that  terminated 
by  the  peace  of  1763.  The  boun- 
daries of  the  French  and  English 
colonies  in  North  America,  as  de- 
scribed by  charter,  conquest,  trea- 
ties, and  maps,  were  often  perplex- 
ed and  sometimes  inconsistent. 
Both  nations  had  plausible  argu- 
ments in  their  favour,  and  nation- 
ality of  spirit  addei  the  obstinacy 
of  prejudice  to  the  reol  appearance 
of  equity  in  their  long  and  fatiguing 
diplomatick  discussions.  Which 
party  was  right  is  not  difficult 
for  an  Englishman  or  u  French- 
man to  say  ;  and  the  philosophick 
inquirer  may  well  be  excused  fmm 
deciding  an  old  question  of  colo- 
nial boundaries,  when  he  observes 
that  now  dynasties  are  annihilated, 
and  empires  overturned  by  French 
despotick  power,  without  the  cour- 
fesy  of  negociation  or  the  formal- 
*  ity  of  resistance. 
•  "  Gov.  Hamilton's  letter  to 
Gov.  Shirley." 

,    This  letter  inclosed    the  next 
communication,  entitled 

"  Major  Washington's  letter  to 
Govemour  Hamilton," 

In  which  Major  W.  relates  the 
progress  of  his  detachment  to- 
wards the  Ohio  in  the  war  of  1754, 
and  incloses  two  otlier  docu- 
ments, entitled 

"  A  Summon,  by  order  of  Con- 
trecoeur,  captain  of  one  of  the  com- 
panies of  the  detachment  of  the 
French  marine,  commander  in 
chief  of  his  most  christian  majes- 
ty's troops  now  on  the  Beautiful 
river— to  the  commander  of  those 
of  the  king  of  Great-Britain,  at  the 
mouth  of  the  river  Monongahela," 
To  which  Mr.  Ward  was  obli- 
ged to  submit  ;  And 
.    ^  Speech  from  the  Half  King  to 


the  Governours  of  Virginia  and 
Pennsylvania,  referred  to  in  Major 
Washington's  letter." 

By  which  the  Half  King  offers 
assistance. 

"  A  list  of  the  Presidents  of  the 
colony  of  Rhode-Island  and  Prov- 
idence plantations,  under  the  first 
charter  ;  and  of  the  Governours^ 
under  the  second  charter,  collected 
from  the  publick  records." 

"  Letter  from  his  Excellency 
Gov.  Jay,  corresponding  member 
of  the  Historical  Society,  to  its 
coiTesponding  secretary." 

This  letter  corrects  two  mis- 
takes in  the  report  of  the  commit- 
tee of  the  board  of  correspondents 
of  the  Scots  society  for  propaga- 
ting christian  knowledge,  Sec.  pub- 
lished in  the  Hist.  Col.  for  l7P8. 

"  A  letter  from  the  treasurer  of 
the  Massachusetts  Historical  So- 
ciety to  the  president,  on  the  pro- 
priety and  expediency  of  an  ap- 
propriate national  name,  designa- 
tory  of  the  citizens  of  the  United 
States,  as  a  distinct  people  from 
the  other  inhabitants  of  the  two 
vast  American  peninsulas." 

This  memoir  is  written  with  in- 
genuity, and  in  an  easy  style.  Mr. 
Tudor  is  forcible  in  his  reasons 
against  tlie  retention  of  America, 
as  a  geographical  term  to  designate 
the  United  States,  and  propose* 
Columbia,  as  a  suitable  name. 
•  "  Letter  from  his  lateExcellency 
Jonathan  Trumbull,  Esq.  to  BSroa 
J*  D.  Vander  Capellan,  seigneur  du 
Pol,  membre  des  nobles  de  la  pix)- 
vince  d'Overysul,  Sec." 

Gov.  Trumbull,  after  briefly- 
touching  on  the  early  settlenlent 
of  Massachusetts  and  Connecticut, 
relates  the  history  of  the  Amer- 
ican war  till  1779 — 80,  and  ^the 
then  state  of  the  country.  We 
extract  a  very  important  para- 
graph. 


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KISTomiCAL   COLLECTIONS. 


521 


In  1640,  governour  Winthrop,  in  his 
Journal,  inferts  the  following  pafTage, 
▼ix.  •*  Upon  the  great  liberty  which  the 
.  icing  left  the  parliament  to  in  England, 
fomc  of  our  friends  there  wrote  to  us, 
advifing,  te  feud  over  fome  to  folicit 
for  us  in  parliament,  giving  us  hopes  we 
might  obtain  much :  but  confulcing 
about  it,  we  (the  governour  and  afCftants, 

■  coorened  in  council)  declined  the  motion 
for  this  coniideration,  that  if  we  fhould 
put  ourfelves  under  the  protec^on  of 
parliament,  we  mu(t  be  fubjea  to  all 
fuch  laws  they  fliould  make,  or  at 
Icaft  fuch  as  they  might  impofe  on  us ; 

•in  which  courfe,  though  they  (honld  in- 
tend our  good,  yet  it  might  prove  very 
prejudicial  to  us."  Here  •bferve,  that 
as  at  this  time,  fo  it  hath  been  ever  fince, 
that  the  colonies,  fo  far  from  acknowl- 
edging the  parliament  to  have  a  right  to 
make  laws  binding  on  them  in  all  cafes 
whatfoever,  they    have  ever  denied  it 

.In  any  cafe. 

«  The  petition  of  the  Earl  of 
Stirling,  William  PhiUipsLec,  and 
Mary  Trumbull,  praying  to  be  put 
in  possession  of  some  lands,  called 
the  county  of  Canada,  granted  to 
William  Earl  of.  Stirling,  in  1635, 
by  the  council  for  the  afiairs  of  N. 
England.     1760." 

"  Letter  from  Jasper  Mauduit, 
Esq.  to  the  Speaker  of  the  house 
pf  representatives  of  the  province 
of  Massachusetts-Bay, '  relative  to 
a  reimbursement  from  parliament 
for  the  expense  of  supporting  the 
French  neutrals  from  Nova  Scotia." 
**  Letter  from  Jasper  Mauduit, 
Esq.  to  the  Speaker  of  the  house 
of  representatives  of  the  province 
•f  Massachusetts-Bay,  relative  to 
the  duty  laid  by  parliament  on  for- 
eign molasses." 

**  Letter  from  Jasper  Mauduit, 
Esq.  to  the  Speaker  of  the  house 
of  representatives  of  the  province 
of  Massachusetts-Bay,  relative  to 
the  duty  on  foreign  molasses,  the 
keeping  up  ten  thousand  troops  in 
America,  &c." 

The  titles  explain  the  subjects 
of  the  foregoing  papers.     The  his- 
Vol.  m.  No.  6.         2R 


torian  will  consult  them,  and  the 
careless  reader  will  consult  the 
historian. 

"  Letter  from  Thomas  Mayhew 
to  Gov.  Prince," 

Upon  the  politicks  of  the  Indians 
of  the  Elizabeth  islands  and  tlu 
Vineyard  in  1671. 

"  James  Walker's  letter  to  C.ov. 
Prince." 

A  few  particulars  about  king, 
Philip. 

"  Daniel  Gookin's  letter  to  Gov. 
Prince." 

"  Letter  from  Gov.  Prince  to 
Daniel  Gookin." 

"  Instructions  from  the  chutch 
atNatick  to  William  and  Anfhony." 
They  were  appointed  mediators 
between  the  Missogkonnog  In- 
dians and  the  government  of  Ply- 
mouth in  leri." 

"  Copy  of  a  letter  from  Govern- 
our Prince  to  Roger  Williams." 

This  is  an  answer  to  a  complaint 
of  Roger  Williams  about  liberty  of 
religious  worship,  which  he  feared 
the  colonies  of  Mas8achusetts,Con- 
necticut,  and  Plymouth  intended 
to  take  from  him  by  conquering  his 
colony  at  Providence. 

"  James  Quanapaug's  informa- 
tion." 

Quanapaug  was  sent  fiom  Na- 
tick  in  1675  to  reconnoitre  hostile 
Indians,  kingPhilip,  Narragansetts, 
8cc.  He  saw  much,and  told  it  well. 
"  Letter  from  Governour  Stuy- 
vesant,  of  N.  York,  to  the  Govern- 
our and  Council  of  Massachusetts." 
Gov.  S.  complains  of  the  irregu- 
lar proceedings  of  some  English 
colonial  officers  in  New-York  and 
the  unjustifiable  outrages  of  a  large 
company  of  men  on  Long  Island, 
and  wishes  for  peaceable  accom- 
modation. Boston  has  long  been 
celebrated  for  courtesy  and  kind 
attention  to  stmngers,  and  we  are 
proud  to  mention,  that  in  1663 
Gov,  S.  thus  writes  : 


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322 


HISTORICAL    COLLECI^IONS. 


The  eo^gcmcnt  whereby  I  confcflcd 
mvfelf  oblijjed  unto  your  honours,  to 
your  citizens,  both  horfe  and  foot,  for 
the  lar^c  refpe(fts,  honourable  reception, 
aud  entcrtaiomeat  in  the  dty  and  colony 
t)f  Boftun,  uoth  provoke  mc,  by  this  fea- 
fonable  opportunity,  to  return  all  due 
and  thankful  acknowledgment,  which 
fhouid  have  been  done  fooner,  if  my  firk- 
Dci^  and  other  intervening occaiions,  had 
not  occaGoned  this  neglet^.  But  I  hope 
it  will  never  be  t6o  late  to  offer  this  trib- 
ute of  thHnkfuiner«,and  due  engagement, 
unto  your  honours,  in  any  occaiion. 

«  Deposition  of  Hugh  Cole,  at 
Plymouth  Court,  A.D.  1670," 

About  kin^  Philip. 

"  A  Description  and  History  of 
StiTcra,  by  Rev.  William  Bcntley." 

The  hfstory  of  Salem  contains 
a  great  variety  of  facts.  Whether 
all  the  statements  are  correct,  we 
are  not  able  to  decide  ;  nor  can  we 
point;  out  what  Is  true,  and  what  is 
false.  Dr.  Bentley  has  investiga- 
ted with  diligence  the  state  of  pop- 
ulation, diseases,  religious  wor- 
ship, See.  His  opinions  and  infer- 
ences may  be  open  to  doubt,  but 
wc  are  not  disposed  to  withhold 
praise  from  curiosity  of  inquiry 
and  accumulation  of  results.  The 
character  given  of  Roger  Williams 
is  different  from  that  to  be  drawn 
from  the  statements  of  former  his- 
torians, and  although  Dr.  Bentlcy 
luay  have  con^ectly  estimated  that 
singular  man,  still,  as  he  knew 
there  were  doubts  respecting  the 
true  character  of  the  Patriarch  of 
Providence,  he  ought  to  have  cited 
authorities  in  support  of  his  opin- 
ions. He  would  have  made  the 
Tvork  more  luminous,  had  he  divi- 
ded it  into  chapters  with  appro- 
priate heads  ;  for  now  we  cannot 
with  facility  find  any  particular 
fact,  required  to  be  known.  The 
author  mentions  at  the  close,  that 
the  history  is  to  be  continued,  but 
in  the  succeeding  volumes  of  the 
Historical  Collections  the  continu- 
ation doQs  not  appear.     We  hope 


he  will  proceed  in  the  work,  for 
diligence  and  exactness  are  not  to 
be  foQBd  in  every  hktorian  ;  and 
these  qualities  shall  always  reecivc 
our  praise,  though  our  disappro- 
bation may  be  sometimes  excited 
by  obscurity  of  style  and  perplexi- 
ty of  arrangement.  As  a  speci- 
men of  Dr.  Bentley's  work  we  in- 
sert the  character  of  Roger  "Wil- 
liams, and  we  are  willing  to  be- 
lieve every  commendation  of  this 
extraoi*dinary  man  ;  of  oh«,  who 
was  enlerprk^flg,  ecaentmk,  hero- 
ic!:, and  pions. 

In  Saltm,  every  perfon  teted  Mir. 
Williams.  He  had  no  pcrfonal  enemio 
under  any  pretcuce.  All  valued  hit 
friendfliip.  Kind  treatment  could  win 
him,  but  oppofition  could  not  conquer 
him.  '  He  was  not  afraid  to  (land  alotic 
for  truth  a^infl  the  world  ;  and  he  had 
always  addrcfs  enough,  with  his  firm- 
nefs,  never  to  be  for^ken  by  the  frieodi 
be  had  ever  gained.  He  had  always  a 
tendernels  of  confcience,  and  feared  eve- 
ry offence  again  ft  moral  truth.  He 
breathed  the  pureft  devotion.  He  was 
ready  in'  thoughts  and  words,  and  de6ed 
all  his  vaustiug  adverfarics  to  publick 
difputation.  He  had  a  familiar  imagery 
of  ftylei  which  faitcd  his  times,  and  he 
indulged  evwi  in  the  titles  of  his  contrO" 
verfial  papers  to  wit  upon  names,  efpe- 
cially  upon  the  Quakers.  He  knew  tmH 
better  than  he  did  civil  goverDmeoi.  He 
was  a  friend  to  human  nature,  forgiviiigt 
upright,  and  pious.  He  underdood  tht 
Indians  better  than  any  man  of  the  ag& 
He  made  not  fo  many  converts,  but  he 
made  more  finccre  friends.  He  knc* 
their  paflions,  and  the  refh^iats  they 
could  endure.  He  was  betrayed  into  nt 
wild  or  expcnfive  proje^Sts  refpectin| 
them.  He  ftudied  their  manners  and 
their  cuftoms  and  paflions  together.  Hii 
vocabulary  alfo  proves  that  he  wasfeni- 
Kar  with  the  words  of  their  language, 
if  not  with  it»  prineiplcs.  It  is  an  happy 
relief  in  contemplating  fo  eccentrick  a 
character,  that  no  fulterings  induced  any 
purpofes  of  revenge,  for  which  he  after- 
ward* had  great  opportunities  ;  that 
great  focial  virtues  corrected  the  6rft 
erroursof  his  opinions ;  aod  that  he  lived 
to  exhtlm  to  the  iiative»a  noble  example 
of  generous  goodnefs,  and  to  be  the  p»- 
cat  uf  the  iadepcudeat  ftatc  of  Rho^O' 


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THE   SAfeBATH  I     A   POEM. 


323 


Tfland-     He  died  lo  his  cqj?ny,ia  1683, 
in  the  84th  year  of  hk  atje. 


ART.  27. 

Tht  Sabbathy  a  fioem.  The  first 
American  edidon,   to  rvhieh    are 

'  now  addedj  Sabbath  Walkt. 
New-York,  printod  by  Collins, 
Perkins,  k  Co*  1805.  Vimo. 
fi/i.  168. 

THIS  little  poem  is  written  with 
g^eat  simplicity  and  considerable 
purity  of  style,  excellencies  the 
more  welcome,  as  the  more  un- 
common in  the  present  degeneracy 
of  taste,  when  a  studied  magnifi- 
cence has  driven  nature  from  our 
prose,  ani  sound  without  sense 
characterizes  our  verse. 

This  poet,  who  writes  in  blank 
verse,  has  one  peculiarity  in  his 
versification,  which,  from  its  fre- 
quent recurrence,  he  undoubtedly 
thinks  a  beauty,  but  which  strikes 
ws,  as  in  the  highest  degree  harsh 
and  inharmoQious.  He  often  em- 
ploys eleven  syllables  in  a  line. 

*  His  iron-armed  hoofs  gleam  ia  th« 

morning  ray.' 

*  In  air,  soaring  heaven-ward>  afar  they 

float.* 
^  The  record   of  her  bjossomiog  age 
appears.' 

The  authority  of  MJIton  is  not 
sufficient  to  justify  a  license  of  tliis 
nature,  and  from  the  refinement 
of  modem  times,  and  the  improve- 
ment of  our  language,  we  expect 
from  a  poet  of  the  present  day,  at 
least,  smoothness  of  versification. 
He  also  indulges  once  in  a  hemi^- 
stick,  or  half-verse. 

f  Beyond  the  empyreal' 

Virgil,  who  died  before  his  M* 
neid  was  completed,  left  many 
lines  unfinished,  and  this  is  the 
only  instance,  which  we  have  yet 
found,  where  an  imperfecdon  has 
been  imitated  from  choice.  Dry- 
4ca  indeed  sdopted  the  practice 


from  laziness,  but  succeeding  bards 
never  presumed  to  take  the  same 
liberty.  With  the  exception  of 
these  trivial  faults,  which,  how- 
ever, it  was  incumbent  on  us  as 
reviewers  to  point  out,  we  can  re- 
commend this  poem  to  every  class 
of  readers.  It  has  simplicity  e- 
nough  to  be  intelfigible  to  the  il- 
literate, and  sufficient  sentiment 
and  poetry  to  gratify  the  learned. 
As  the  style  of  the  poet  is  equa- 
ble, without  any  occasional  flights 
above  its  uniform  tenor,  we  have  no 
choice  in  selection, and  shall  thtit- 
fbre  quote  the  first  forty  lines  of 
the  poem,  as  a  specimen  of  the 
writer's  manner. 

How  gtill  the  mominj;  of  the  hallowed  day  I 
Mute  is  the  voice  of  rural  lahotir,  hushed 
*l'hc   plnughbojr's  whistle,  and  the    roiU^anaid's 

»onp. 
TT)e  scythe  lle«  glitterloR  In  the  dewy  wrf  ath 
Of  tedded  grass,  mingled  with  fading  flowers. 
That  yestermorn  blooni'd  waving  in  the  breeze . 
Sounds  the  mast  faint  attract  the  car,->tiic  huui 
Of  early  bee,  the  trickllrg  of  the  dew,      ^ 
The  distant  U^atin£;,  midway  up  the  hill. 
Calmness  seems  thron*d  on  yon  unmovijii;  cloud' 
To  him  who  wantdcrs  o'er  the  upland  leas, 
The  bfladchird's  note  comes  mellower  from  the 

dale  ; 
And  sweeter  from  the  sky  the  gladsome  lark 
Warbles  hts  heav'n-rtun'd  song  ;  the  lulling  brook 
Murmurs  mQre  gCQtly  down  the  dccp-suuk  glen  ; 
While  from  yon  lowly  roof,  whose  curlin«;  smoke 
O'crmounts  the  mist,  is  heard,  at  Intervals, 
The  voke  of  psalms,  the  sixnpfe  song  of  praise. 

With  dove-like  wloss  Peace  o*er  yon  village 
broods  : 
The  dleSylng  mill  wheel  rests  j  the  anvil's  din 
Hath  ceas*d  -,  all,  all  around  U  quietness. 
Leas  fearful  on  this  day,  the  limping  hare 
Stops,  and  looks  back,  and  stops,  and  looks  on 

man, 
H^r  deadliest  foe.    The  toil-worn  horse,  set  free, 
Vnheedful  of  the  pasture,  roams  at  large  i 
And,  as  his  stiff  unwieldy  bulk  he  rolls. 
His  iroo-arm'd  hoofs  gleam  in  the  morning  ray. 

But  chiefly  Man  the  day  of  reft  enjoys. 
Hail,  Sabbath  !  thee  I  hail,  the  poor  man's  day. 
On  other  days,  the  man  of  toil  is  doom*d 
To  eat  his  joyless  bread,  lonely,  Uie  ground 
Both  seat  and  board,  scrern'd  from  the  winter^ 

cold. 
And  •tmuncr's  he*t,  by  neighbouring  hedge  or 

tree; 
Bnt  on  this  diiy,  embofom'd  In  Ms  home« 
He  shares  the  frugal  meal  «lth  those  he  loves  3 
V^h  those  he  loves  he  shares  the  heart-felt  joy 
Of  giving  thanks  to  God,— not  thanks  of  form, 
A  word  and  a  grimace,  but  rev'rently. 
With  coter*d  face  and  upward  earnest  eye* 


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S34 


TpE  ^ABBiTH  :     A   P6bH. 


What  we  have  said  of  the  Sab- 
bath is  equally  applicable  to  the 
short  poems  that  follow  it,  enti- 
tled Sabbath  Walks.  A  body  of 
notes  is  subjoined  to  the  whole, 
chiefly  relating  to  the  persecutions 
formerly  experienced  by  the  Scotch 
Presbyterians.  As  their  fanaticks, 
however,  suffered  no  more  than 
they,  or  their  ancestors  under  John 
Knox,  had  inflicted,  whatever  sym- 
pathy they  may  excite  in  Scotland, 
they  cannot  expect  to  inspire  much 
interest  here.  The  character  of 
Bonai)arte,  drawn  with  no  incon- 
siderable ability,  though  in  a  style, 
perhaps  a  little  too  turgid,  will  be 
much  more  gratifyhig  to  the  A- 
inerican  reader. 

The  chara<5ter  of  Bonaparte  will  fur- 
nifli  a  fpccimen  of  more  monArous  mo- 
ral deformity,  than  was  ever  exhibited  in 
the  hiflorical  mufeum.  Poflefling  the 
power  of  conferring  on  mankind  a  great- 
er portion  of  happinefo  than  ever  de- 
pended on  the  will  of  one  man,  he  has 
been  the  author  of  miferiet  incalculable. 
He  could  have  given  liberty  to  France  : 
he  aHumed  abfolute  power  to  himfelt 
He  could  have  given  peace  to  Europe : 
he  concluded  an  iniidious  truce.  He 
could  have  emancipated  Switzerland  : 
he  rivetted  the  chains,  which  the  Di- 
rc<5tory  had  forged.  In  St.  Domingo, 
his  condud.  was  a  complication  of  the 
nioft  foitlfh  impolicy,  the  nioft  favage 
cruelty,  the  mod  knavifli  perfidy,  that 
ever  dif^raced  the  annals  of  human  na- 
ture. By  this  fflf-created  monarch,  was 
ToulTaint,  .the  eled^ed  ruler  of  a  free 
g^ple,  fwindied  into  a  treaty,  kidnapp- 
ed during  the  peace  that  fucceeded,  torn 
from  his  wife  and  children,  tranfported 
in  irons  to  France,  immured  in  a  dun- 
geon, and,  finally,  aflaninated,  (if  uncon- 
tradidted  aecufation  deferve  any  credit,) 
in  a  mode  perfe<ftiy  fuitable  to  the  com- 
mencement and  progrefs  of  the  horrid 
hillory,-^poifon  under  the  difguife  of 
medicine.  Yet  this  maiked  murderer 
this*  drug^ift-aflaffin  prefumes  to  exclaim 
agaioft  the  the  uplifted  arm  of  an  Are- 
na pr  a  Georges.  Hi«  efiVonttry  can 
only  be  furpafTed  by  his-  hypocn'fy^ 
Compared  to  bim»  Cromweii  was  a  mert 


noTice  in  tlM  art. — As  to  milttarf  tal« 
^nts,  how  iAiitely  inferiour  ii   he   to 
Moreau  !    Morean  faved,  be  facrificed 
bis  foldicrt.     Moreau,   deftitute  of  re- 
fources,  accompliflied  a    retreat    mor* 
fplendid   than   the    Coriican   fwindler't 
mod  celebrated  vidlorics.    Moreau  con- 
dutfled  his  ibldiers  to  their  homes  :  the 
Corfican  deferted  his  in  a  diftant,  hoftile, 
peftilential  region.- — His  fuccels  in  Italy 
(and  there  only  he  was  fucceiafii])  was  a 
matter  of  arithmetical,  rather   than  of 
roilitaiy  tadticks.    In  the  caufe  of  liberty 
each    individual    of   the  French    army 
was  felf-devoted  to  death.     The   Cor* 
iican*s  troops  were  in    his    efiimation, 
and  were  in  reality,  as  fo  much    «■*- 
my^tioH.     Not  a  barrel  of  powder,  not  a 
gaifofi,  was  more  entirely  at  his  difpofal, 
than  were  the  lives  of  his  men.    He  had . 
only  to  calculate,  whether  he  or  his  ad- 
▼erfary  was   mod  abundantly  fupplied 
with  this  human  ammunition.    It  was  a 
calculation  of  carnage.    He  was  in  truth 
the  chief  broker  in  the  vendue-room  of 
vi (Story,  and  he  carried  off  the  beft  lots, 
bv   outbidding    his   competitors   in  the 
blood  of  the  foldiery.— At  laft,  this  puny 
mimick  of  Charlemagne,  bedizened  with 
the  motley  panegyricks  of  fawning  fcna- 
tors,  obedient  Utiv-makert^  and   affenting 
tribunes,  has  exceed  his  throne  on  the 
yet  trembling  crater  of  the  revolution- 
ary volcano.      From    this  hollow  emi« 
nence,  his  felf-6lled  eye  looked  upward 
to  his  gorgeous  canopy  of  ftaf e,  but  dif- 
C^rned  not  the  Hill  more  extended  cano- 
py of  the  world's  derifion.     Nor  could 
his  fancied  exaltation  be  complete,  with- 
out the  atflual  degradation  of    the  hum- 
bled wearer  of  the  Papal  tiara,  who,  by 
his  fufferance,  is  (lill  permitted  to  retain 
the  Hiadow  of  a    mighty    name.    This 
miferable  chief  of  an  expiring  fuperfH- 
tion,  dragged  like  another   confcript   to 
the   Capital  of  Continental  Europe,  and 
drilled  to  the  minutiae  of  the  coronatioa 
manual,  has  been  compelled  to  place  an 
imperial  diadem  on  that  head  fo  much 
more  worthy  of  a  Pamien's  crown.    To 
confummate  the  abfurd  wickedoefs  of  the 
atchievcment,  the  Sabbath,  the  day  h«h 
tf  the  Loriy   konourphU^  has   been  prolb- 
tuted   to   this   facrileg^ious    pantomime. 
Compared  to  fuch  things  as  thefe,  the 
former  atheifm  of  the  Corficaa  creed*  * 
monger  was  ftndUty  itCelf. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


SULLIVAN  S  MAP  OF  TBK  XJNITED   STATmS* 


335 


ART.   28. 

A  ntv)  Mafi  of  the  United  States  of 
jfmerica<i  including  part  of  LouiS' 
uiania*  Drawn  from  the  latest 
authorities,  Ooston,  published 
and  sold  by  John  Sullivan,  jun. 
1806. 

The  science  of  geography  owes 
Its  progress  to  the  assistance  of 
maps,  as  in  a  less  degree  histor)*  is 
indebted  to  painting  ;  for  of  the 
senses  the  eye  is  the  most  impor- 
tant,  and  the  objects  it  embraces 
in  the  acquisiuon  of  knowledge  are 
most  extensive.  The  ideas  receiv- 
ed through  this  medium  are  gene- 
rally clear  and  distinct  ;  the  im- 
pressions they  make  are  strong 
and  lasting,  and  seldom  require  an 
after  operation  of  the  mind  to  con- 
nect or  arrange  them.  It  com- 
prehends at  once  all  the  propor- 
tionsy  numbers,  and  divisions  of  a 
painting,  or  piece  of  architecture  ; 
the  beauties  are  equally  stamped 
upon  the  mind,  and  time,  although 
it  may  weaken,  can  never  oblit- 
erate the  images. 

These  reflections  were  suggest- 
ed by  inspecting  the  new  map, 
lately  presented  to  the  American 
publick,  by  Mr.  John  Sullivan,  jun. 
It  comprehends,  on  a  sheet  of  4  by 
44  feet,  the  whole  of  the  United 
States,  with  part  of  Louisiana,  the 
Floridas,  and  part  of  the  British 
provmces  of  Canada,  and  furnishes 
a  very  distinct  and  valuably  expo- 
sition of  the  political  divisions  and 
boundaries  of  the  states. 

To  give  an  exact  and  compre*- 
hensive  map  of  the  United  States 
Was  certainly  a  great  and  laudable 
undertaking,  and  such  as  the  pub^ 
lick,  if  well. executed,  ought  to  en- 
courage by  something  more  than 
an  affectation  of  patronage.  The 
tmall  maps  in  Morse's  Gazetteer, 
the  scarcity  of  Bradley's  and  the 
<ieamcs9  of  Arrgwsmith%  a^d  the 


progress  of  civilization  and  im-" 
provemeHt  towards  our  Western 
frontiers,  rendered  the  publication 
of  the  new  map  peculiarly  inter- 
esting. 

Gazetteers  are  serviceable  to 
show  with  facility  the  qualities  of 
soil,  institutions,  population,  cli- 
mates, productions,  arts,  manners, 
and  customs  of  different  countries ; 
but  we  must  look  to  maps  for  their 
relative  situations,  and  the  connex- 
ion, that  one  district  or  territory 
has  with  another,  the  extent,  situ- 
atk>n,and  du*ection  of  rivers,  moun* 
tains,  Sec. 

In  the  compilation  of  a  map, 
made  up  of  different  surveys  and 
descriptions  of  small  sections  of 
the  country,  difficulties  and  em- 
barrassments occur,  which  are  not 
obvious  to  a,  cursory  observer.  Bjr 
diminishing  large,  and  protracting 
small  maps  of  the  several  states 
and  territories,  and  comparing  the 
variable  surveys  and  correcting 
the  anomalies,  which  are  found  in 
them,  the  publisher  is  liable  to 
commit  many  errours,  and  be- 
comes, in  a  great  measure,  answer- 
able for  the  inaccuracies  of  his 
predecessors,  whose  worics  he  is  ^ 
obliged  to  join  and  associate  to 
form  an  aggregate  of  the  whole* 
Nor  are  the  materials  easily  ob- 
tained. If  he  trusts  to  the  nume- 
rous small  maps  m  circulation^ 
most  of  which  are  extremely  de- 
fective, his  imprudence  is  inexcu- 
sable ;  and  if  he  looks  for  assist* 
ance  to  original  surveys,  he  will 
generally  find  them  incomplete* 
Nor  can  an  accurate  map  of  tho 
United  States  be  expected,without 
efficient  aid  from  government. 
Maps  of  some  of  the  states  have^ 
been  published  by  authority  ;  bul  > 
instead  of  surveyors  being  em* 
ployed  to  fix  the  exact  position  of 
prominent  objects,  the  bearings  of 
which  would  correct  other  surveys, 
the  compiler  has  been  obliged  t(^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


26 


^vllivak's  maf  or  the  itkited  states. 


collect  plans  of  towns  and  small 
districts^  and  to  make  a  patch-work 
whole  of  these  discordant  mate- 
rials. Sometimes  it  would  be  ne- 
ce«ary  to  bend  or  stmghten  a 
river,  to  protract  or  shorten  its 
course  ;  but  this  was  not  consid- 
ered of  much  importance,  and,  to 
give  the  whole  a  pretty  appear- 
ance, a  range  of  mountains  might 
be  easily  added  for  a  boundary  line. 
Nor  can  we  blame  the  compiler 
for  not  going  to  an  expense,  that 
our  economical  governments  will 
not  incur.  A  society  in  this  town 
was  offered  the  privilege  of  mak- 
ing and  publishing  the  maps  of  Mas- 
sachusetts and  Maine,  and  they 
trould  have  had  the  volunteer  as- 
sistance of  many  scientifick  gen- 
tlemen ;  but  government,  by  striv- 
ing to  drive  too  hard  a  bargain,  lost 
the  opportunity  of  obtaining  accu- 
rate maps.  But  we  must  not  ex- 
pect the  encouragement  of  govern- 
ment to  maps,  when  every  sea- 
man complains,  that  there  is  not  a 
chart  of  the  extensive  shores  of 
New-England,  upon  which  he  can 
rest  the  safety  of  his  ship. 

To  give  a  plain  delineation  of 
the  several  states,  as  a  kind  of 
chart,  by  which  we  may  study  the 
political  ties  and  interests  that  u- 
nite,  or  ought  to  unite  us,  under  a 
general  government^  must  be  the 
greatest  advantage  resulting  from 
this  map.  Accuracy  in  this  re- 
spect is  required,  and  not  a  partic- 
ular location  of  small  and  inconsid- 
erable towns.  This,  as  it  is  not 
expected^only  endangers  the  cred- 
it ^the  work  ;  and  here  Mr.  Sul- 
livan has  hazar4ed  much.  In  Vir- 
ginia, for  instance,  and  in  Massa- 
chusetts and  other  New-England 
slates,  the  map  appears  crowded, 
and  the  centres  of  towns  are  not 
noted  definitively  by  small  circles, 
tm  i%  usually  done  in  good  maps. 
Ifad  he|  therefore^  paid  less  atten^ 


tion  to  this  part,  and  more  explicit^ 
ly  marked  the  |x>st-roads  and  towns, 
which  are  certainly  of  great  con- 
sequence, and  perhaps  coloured 
them,  he  would  have  turned  some 
of  his  industry  to  better  account. 

The  meridians  and  parallels 
might  have  been  more  accurately 
and  truly  drawn,  and  the  graver 
guided  by  a  more  skilful  hand. 
The  execution  should  have  been 
under  the  superintendance  of  an 
experienced  engraver,  rather  than, 
as  would  seem  from  its  aspect, 
have  been  put  into  the  stiff  and 
unpractised  hands  of  an  appren- 
tice. It  is  a  pity  the  valuable  la- 
bour of  two  years,  spent  by  the 
compiler  in  collecting  and  arrange 
ing  so  much  useful  information, 
should  be  dressed  out  with  so  little 
taste  and  skill.  The  work  would 
have  found  a  more  welcome  recep* 
tion,  if,  in  addition  to  the  science 
of  the  proprietor,  the  map  had  pre-r 
sented  a  better  specimen  of  the  in- 
genuity and  proficiency  of  Amer- 
ican engravers. 

The  colouring  is  neat  and  judi* 
cious,  and  affords  at  one  glance  a 
better  knowledge  of  the  bounda- 
ries of  the  several  states,  than 
could  be  gained  by  months  devot- 
ed to  study.  In  some  parts  omis- 
sions and  inaccuracies  occur,  which 
are  not,  however,  unpardonable. 
Mountains  are  laid  down  in  differ- 
ent places,  with  precision  and  a 
good  relief;  but  Monadnock,  in 
New-Hampshire,  and  Wachusett, 
in  Massachusetts,  two  great  land- 
marks in  New-England,  are  quite 
forgotten  ;  they  are  not  noticed  on 
the  map.  As  longitude  is  some- 
times reckoned  from  London  ot 
Green^ch,  and  sometimes  from 
Paris,  notice  ought  always  to  be 
given,  from  what  meridian  we  arc 
to  count  ;  but,  as  the  degrees  are 
marked  on  this  map  without  a 
reference  to  the  first  mcridiani  w^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


ACCOVMT  or  THS  XCLlPfK  OV  THE  SVV. 


sfn 


hope  a  new  edition  will  be  suppli- 
ed, at  top  or  bottom,  with  "  Longi- 
tude lVe9t from  London** 

When  many  sheets  are  to  be 
joined  to  form  a  large  map,  much 
care  and  practice  are  requisite  to 
make  the  various  lines  meei,&  unite 
them  correctly.  The  "  New  Map 
of  the  United  States"  furnishes 
evidence,  either  of  the  difficulty  of 
this  part  of  the  work,  or  the  care- 
lessness of  the  workmen. 

We  have  examined  the  longi- 
tude and  latitude  of  many  places, 
and,  from  the  inquiries  we  have 
made,  the  map  is  as  accurate  as 
can  be  expected.  It  would  be 
ungrateful  to  demand  a  minute  at- 
tention to  towns  and  small  dis- 
tricts, when  the  whole  Union 
on  so  small  a  sheet  is  pendent 
on  the  walls  of  our  counting- 
rooms  and  studies.  The  post- 
roads  are  laid  out  \vith  exactness, 
though  indistinctly,  and  the  great 
rivers  of  North -America  pursue 
their  sinuous  courses  and  empty 
their  mighty  waters,  where  nature 
has  commanded.  The  Mississip- 
pi, Mobile,  Missouri,  Illinois,  and 
Ohio,  all  have  their  proper  range, 
and,  with  Mr.   Sullivan's  efforts, 


proclaim  the  value  and  richness  of 
countries  yet  untrodden  beyond 
the  Appalachian  mountains,  coun- 
tries unequalled  for  agncultura^ 
and  inland  commercial  advanta- 
ges. That  section,  comprizing 
Louisiana,  is  almost  a  blank  ;  ^d 
such  for  many  years  will  proba- 
bly be  every  accurate  representa- 
tion of  that  country. 

Two  very  valuable  tables  are 
placed  upon  the  map.  The  first 
shews  the  number  and  nances  of 
ports  of  entry  in  the  United  States  ; 
those  being  particularly  designa- 
ted, which  are  such  for  vessels 
from  and  beyond  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope.  The  second  contains  the 
length  and  breadth  of  all  the 
States,  with  their  chief  towns,  their 
distance  from  the  city  of  Wash- 
ington, and  an  estimate  of  the  pop- 
ulation of  the  Ufiion. 

Notwithstanding  its  imperfec- 
tions, the  new  map  claims  the  atr 
tention  of  the  publick.  It  fur- 
nishes all  the  knowledge,  which  a 
work  of  the  kind  is  intended  to 
convey,  and  perhaps  is  as  accurate 
as  any  map  of  the  United  States 
yet  published,  and  may  be  procur- 
ed at  comparatively  small  expense^ 


»4»4 


ACCOUNT    OF  THE  TOTAL   ECLIPSE  OF    THE  SUN, 
June    16th,    1806. 


A  TOTAL  eclipfe  of  the  fun  is  a  rare 
aod  interefHng  occurrence.  In  May, 
1706,  there  wa»  one  obferved  in  Swit- 
serland  and  in  the  foutbem  parts  of 
France.  On  the  22d  of  April,  1715,  the 
fun  was  totally  cclipfed  at  London.  Ac- 
counts of  both  thofe  eclipfes  were  pub- 
li{he<i  in  the  tranfactions  of  the  Royal 
Society.  The  lad  was  obferved  by  Dr. 
Haltey,  who  remarks,  that  there  had  not 
before  been  feen  a  total  eclipfe  of  the  fun 
at  Ixmdon,  Gnce  the  20th  March,  1140. 
••  Having  found,"  fays  Dr.lialley,  "  by 
comparing  what  had  been  formerly  ob- 
ferved of  folar  eclipfes,  that  the  whole 
fhadow  would  fall  upon  England,  I 
tiiouj^  it  a  very  proper  opjportusity  to 


get  the  dimenfions  of  the  ihade  afcer- 
tained  by  obfervation,  and  accordingly 
I  c^ufed  a  fmall  map  of  England,  de- 
fcribing  the  track  and  bounds  thereof, 
to  be  difperfed  all  over  the  kingdom, 
with  a  requeft  to  the  curious  to  obfei*ve 
what  they  could  about  it,  but  more  ef* 
pecially  to  note  the  time  of  continuance 
of  total  darknefs."  It  is  to  be  regretted, 
that  fome  fuch  method  had  not  been  a* 
dopted  in  this  country,  previous  to  the 
remarkable  eclipfe  which  we  have  re* 
cently  witnelTed.  We  hope  we  fliall  be 
pardoned,  when  we  remark,  that  our 
SMva/i*  appear  to  have  been  fomewhat  re- 
mifs  in  omil;ting  to  invite  aod  direct  the 
publick  auentioa  oa  this  imercftiag  oc> 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


SM 


ACCOUNT   or   THE   ECLIPSE   OF   TBE  8UK. 


cftfion.  At  the  fame  time  we  mud  ex- 
prefs  our  aclcnowledgmtau  to  the  inge- 
juouB  author  of  a  pamphlet,  which,  to 
the  extent  of  its  circulation,  in  a  great 
de^ee  accomplilhcd  the  defired  purpofe. 
It  was  written,  we  under(hiud,  by  Mr. 
Anorkw  Newccl,  a  young  printer  of 
Bofton,  whole  predilet^oo  for  agronom- 
ical ftudies  ha*  prompted  him  to  aflkiu- 
cms  application  to  that  fublime  branch  of 
fcience,  and  whofe  advances  therein  are 
faid  to  be  rcfpe<5laWe. 

A  nimiber  of  gentlemen  in  Bofton, 
who  had  fumiihed  themfelves  with  pro- 
per iodrmnents,  agreed  to  meet  on  the 
morning  of  the  16th  at  the  houfe  cf  Mr. 
Benjamm  Buflcy,  in  Summer  ftrcet,  for 
the  purpofe  of  obferving  the  eclipfe. 
Their  obferTations,  as  communicated  by 
<heir  coounittee  of  arrangements,  are  as 
follow. 

.  ■*  Our  obfervations  were  made  inMr.Buf- 
/ey*s garden  with  three  achromatick  telef- 
copes,  which  we  iKall  difb'ngutlli  by  the 
oumbers  1, 2, 3.  No.  1  ma«niified about  45 
times ;  No.  S  was  fumiflicd  with  a  double 
obje<Sl  glafs,and  magnified  about  70 tinier; 
the  magnifying  power  of  No.  S  was  (inall, 
but  it  gave  a  clear  and  diftin<St  vifion. 
The  time  was  determined  by  an  excellent 
watch  with  a  fecood  hand.  Obfervations 
«f  correfponding  altitudes  for  adjuring 
our  time  were  omitted.  Suitable  indru- 
ments  on  which  we  could  rely  were  not 
readily  tobe  obtained,aod  it  wasnot  found 
convenient  to  pav  the  requilite  attention, 
without  which  (uch  obfervations  wojild 
bave  been  nugatory  or  delufive.  We 
therefore  determined  to  confider  Preli- 
dent  Webber's  clock,  at  Cambridge,  as 
our  (hmdard,  and  to  compare  our  watch 
with  It  immediately  after  our  obferva- 
tions (hould  be  fioiOtcd. 

The  gentlemen  at  telefcopes  No.  I 
and  3  tirere  placed  near  to  each  other. 
Their  obfervations  correfponded,  except- 
ing as  refpecfls  the  end  of  the  eclipfe. 

•  By  telefcope  No.  1  and  2: — 

•  Beginning,  lOh.  3'  21" 
Beginning  of  total  ob- 

fcuration  of  the  fun,      11.  SS'  Sl"^ 
Kid  of  the  fame,  11.  27'  09^ 

Bnd  of  edipfeby  No.  1,    12.  4R'  01'' 
Ditto,*     by  Na  2,    12.  47'  59* 

Obrerrations  with  telefcop^.  No.  S: — 
Beginning,  lOh.  S'  20^^ 

Beginning  of  totat  darlc- 

nefs,  11.  «  40* 

•  End  of  the  feme*  11.  27*  08* 
C^  of  the  ediplie,         IS.  4W  07* 


The  duration  of  total  darlcnefs,  leu 
cording  to  two  of  the  obfervers,  wa» 
4'  38".  By  the  other,  4^  2t/.  Two 
other  gentlemen  alfo  noied  the  time  of 
total  obfcu ration,  as  nearly  as  they  could 
by  their  watches,  and  both  prououoced 
it  to  be  upward*  of  4  minutes. 

The  duration  of  the  eciipfe,  was,  by 
No.  I,         2h.  44'  40*. 
No.  2,  f.     44'  38", 

No.  8,  2.     4^  47*'. 

Mean  duration,  by  the  three  obTervi- 
tions,  2h.  44'  4 1  J". 

The  watch  was  found  to  be  14"  flower 
^han  Preiident  Webber's  dock,  with 
which  it  was  compared  in  the  aftemooa^ 
Adding  1 4"  to  each  of  our  obfervatiotis, 
they  may  be  coniidered  as  havin;^  been 
made  by  the  clock  ufed  by  the  Prefident ; 
aNowancefl)ould  be  made  kowever  for  the 
fmall  di6[vrence  of  longitude  between  Bol^ 
ton  andCanibridge^and  for  the  poilibie  tx- 
riation  in  tbcrate  of  going  of  the  watdi, 
between  the  time  of  our  obfervations  and 
the  comparifon  made  with  the  dock  at 
^Cambridge.  I'he  Prefident  has  not  yet 
•finiflied  hit  obfenratioos  for  the^correc- 
tiou  of  his  clocks  When  they  ihall  \m 
completed,  and,  together  with  his  obfer- 
vations on  the  eclipfe,  diall  be  communis 
cated,  the  ufe  and  value  of  our  obferT* 
ations  will  be  better  determined. 

In  this  vicinity,  and  probably  througb- 
•out  New-England,  this  interefiing  pbe* 
kiomenon  wa»  obferved  under  very  (^ 
Tourable  circum  ftances.  The  day  was 
remarkably  fine.  Not  a  cloud  oblcnreA 
•ny  portion  of  the  hemifphere.  *The 
air  was  dry  and  clear,  and  the  heavens, 
before  the  obfcurations,  were  in  a  robe 
of  brightefl  azure.  The  wind  was  north* 
weft  in  the  morning,  but  ihifted  to  north* 
eaft  after  the  eclipfe  coraraenced,and  con- 
tinued eaflerly  until  its  completion.  The 
thermometer,  expofed  to  the  open  ai;-,  in 
the  fhade,  on  a  north  wall,  fell  eleveo 
degrees.  No  dew  fell.  This  was  afcei^ 
tained  by  placing  on  a  board  a  piece  of 
foft  paper,  twelve  inches  fquare,  which 
was  accurately  weighed  before  the  com* 
mencement  of  the  eclipfe  and  immedi- 
ately after  the  emerfion  of  the  fun.  No 
difiference  in  the  weight  was  percdved. 
There  was  a  fenfible  chillinefs,  however, 
in  the  air,  and  fome  of  the  company 
found  an  outfide  garment  very  comforts* 
blc.  The  mercury  in  the  barometer 
ftood  at  30,2  from  8  o*dock,  until  9 
in  P.  M. 

Venus  appeared  in  the  fouth-wefl^ 
iibout  1 5  minutes  before  the  total  ol>* 
ibisadon,  aad  wa»  vifible  ttiore  thea  9^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


ACCOUVT   OF  THS  ECLIP8S   OF   THE  8UK. 


329 


ninntet  tfter  the  appearance  of  light. 
Our  (itiiatian  was  not  favourable  for 
notictog  the  ibn.  From  a  comparifon 
of  the  accounts  of  different  perfont  in 
our  circle,  with  reference  to  a  cele(b'al 
^obe,  it  appeared  that  Aldebaran,Capel- 
U»  Caftor,  Procyon,  and  two  of  the  ftars 

•in  Orion  were  noticed. 

A  little  before  the  total  obfcuration, 
m  deep  dark  ihade,  refembling  an  ap- 
proaching thunder  ilorm,  was  obfenred 
at  the  weflward.  As  the  eclipfe  went 
ioff,  a  (imilar  appearance  was  noticed  on 
the  eaftern  fide  of  the  horizon.    The  de- 

^  parting  light  of  the  fun  was  fupportable 
CO  the  naked  eye.  It  was  otherwife  with 
*the  Urd  returning  light,  which  wa^  ez- 
.Kremely  vivid  and  inezprei&bly  rapid  in 
iu  acce£k  I'he  portion  of  the  fun  which 
.firft  re-^peared,  was,  to  the  naked  eye, 
of  a  globular  form,  and  feemed  like  a 
ball  of  fire. 

A  luminous  ring  furroimded  the  moon 
after  the  fun  was  totally  hid.  From  the 
accounts  given  of  former  total  eciipfes 
of  the  fun,  this  appearance  was  expected ; 

I  but  in  brilliancy  and  magnitude  it  feems 
to  have  exceeded  any  of  which  we  find 
an  account.  In  the  eclipfe  of  1715, 
abovementioned.  Dr.  Halley  computes 
the  luminous  ring  to  be  about  '*  a  digit, 
or  perhaps  a  tenth  part  of  the  moon*s 
diameter.  We  were  not  prepared  to 
mcafure  the  breadth  of  the  ring,  that  ap- 
peared at  this  time,  but  Ihould  judge  it 
to  be  at  lead  double  the  dimeofions  of 
that  recorded  by  Dr.  Halley.  The  light 
was  of  a  pale,  white,  and  the  ring  was, 
externally,  irregular.  Vivid  corrufca- 
tions,  of  a  reddilb  or  purple  colour,  were 
feen  with  the  glafTcs,  proceeding  from  the 
moon's  edge.  One  of  our  company,  at 
one  moment,  counted  fix  of  thefe  lucid 
pencils*  iffiung  from  different  parts  of  the 
orb  of  the  moon,  at  irregular  dilbmces, 
and  with  fmaller  illuminated  points  be- 
tween them,  in  form  and  difpofition  re« 
fembling  the  points  on  the  card  of  a 
common  compais.  The  darknefs  was 
not  So  great  as  ezpeiSked.  It  was  found 
neceflkry  however  to  make  ufe  of  a  lan- 
«hem  to  afcertain  the  time  precifelv  by 
our  watch.  If  we  were  to  judge  from 
the  number  of  ftars  that  appeared,  the 
light  muft  have  been  greater,  than  at 
the  lime  of  full  moon ;  this  light,  how« 
ever,  did  not  wholly  proceed  from  the 
luminous  ring  above  mentioned,  which 
though  bright,  and  exhibiting  a  ftrong 
contrail  to  the  dark  body  of  the  moon, 

'        Vol.  III.  No.  6.     2S 


which  it  inclofed,  did  not  cad  any  fenfi- 
ble  ihadow.  A  crepufcular  brightnefs  ai>- 
peared  all  around,  in  the  lower  parts  of 
the  hemifphere,  at  the  time  of  total  ob- 
fcuration of  the  fun.  Dr.  Halley  notices 
a  fimtlar  brightnefs  round  the  horizon 
in  the  eclipfe  of  1715,  and  gives  a  fatis- 
factory  explanation  of  it.  *'  So  much  of 
the  fegment  of  our  atmofphere,"  he  ob- 
ferves,  **  as  was  above  the  horizon,  and 
was  without  the  cose  of  the  moon*s 
ihadow,  was  more  or  left)  enlightened  by 
the  fun*s  beams,  and  its  ref1e<£on  gave  a 
difiufe  light,  which  made  the  air  foem 
hazy,and  hindered  the  appearance  of  the 
Aars.**  This  brightnefs  he  remarked  as 
more  dilbnguilhable  in  the  fouth-ea(t 
The  fame  remark  was  made  here,  by 
thofe,  mod  favourably  fituated  to  notice 
this  appearance. 

Duriug  the  total  obfcuration,  feme  of 
the  company  remarked,  that  the  moon, 
with  its  furrounding  glorv,  appeared 
nearer  to  the  eye,  than  the  fun  or  moun 
ufually  appear.  The  exhibition  i^as 
wonderfully  magnificent  and  fublinie, 
and  infpired  one  univerfal  fentimeut  of 
admiration  and  awe,  which  we  dial  I  not 
attempt  to  defcribe.  We  feemed  to  be 
in  the  more  immediate  prefence  of  Deity, 
while  this  intereding  fpectacle  was  ex- 
hibiting in  his  augud  temple.  The 
morning  was  ulhered  in  with  the  ufual 
hum  of  bufinefs,  which  gradually  dimin- 
idled  as  the  darknefn  advanced.  One  unin- 
terrupted filence  at  length  prevailed.  A 
fredi  breeze,  which  had  prevailed,  now 
fubfided,  and  all  was  calm  ;  the  birdii  re- 
tired to  red  ;  the  rolling  chariot  and  the 
rumbling  car  were  no  more  heard  ;  the 
axe  and  the  hammer  were  fufpeoded. 
Returning  light  reanimated  the  face  of 
things.  We  feemed  as  in  the  dawn  of 
creation,  when  God  faid  iet  th^re  h  lights 
and  there  was  ligbt^  and  an  involuntary 
cheer  of  gratulation  burd  from  the  fpec- 
tators,  efpecially  the  youthful  groups 
in  the  dreets,and  on  the  furrounding  hills. 

The  committee,  in  purfuance  of  their 
commidlon,  proceed  to  report  fome  par- 
ticulars, that  efcaped  their  perfonal  ob« 
fervation.  The  cows  on  the  common, 
we  are  told,  difcovered  fendbte  marks  of 
agitation — fome  of  them  left  the  ground 
and  proceeded  homeward,  the  red  gath- 
ered round  a  perfon,  who  was  croffing 
the  common  at  the  time,  and  followed 
him  with  apparent  anxiety,  as  if  £b licit- 
ing  protection. 

We  have  heard|  from  feveral  perfoos. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


330 


ACCOUNT    OF   THE    ECLIFSE   OT   THE    SUI>. 


a  remark,  of  a  ftngiilar  appearance  in 
the  fhade  of  trees.  The  figure*  of  nu- 
merous little  crefcentf  were  obfcrved  in 
many  places.  Wc  firft  heard  them  men- 
tioned by  foine  gentlemen  in  the  ^v- 
emment  of  the  College,  who  aflSflcd 
Prdidcnt  Webber  in  his  obfervations  nt 
Cambridge.  The  fame  thing  wa#  ob- 
feiTed  by  fcveral  perfon*  in  this  town  in 
yardi  and  gardens,  and  in  the  mall.  A 
gentleman  at  Plymouth,  with  whofe  let- 
ter we  are  favoured,  remarki  a  fimilar 
appearance  there.  They  were  called  by 
fome,  the  (hadow*  of  the  leave*.  Thii 
feems  to  be  incorre<ft  They  appeared 
as  lucid  fpots,  of  a  faint,  white  light,  and 
their  dire<5lioa  and  6gure  varied  with  the 
different  phafes  of  the  cclipfe.  It  has. 
been  fuggeftcd,that  they  were  the  image 
of  the  fun,  produced  by  it^  rays,  (liining 
through  the  inrerftices  of  the  leaves,  oa 
the  principle  of  the  Camera  Obfcura. 
This  explanation  and  appears  fatisfactory, 
and  from  the  beft  accounts  wecan  procure 
of  thedirc(5lion,  they  exhibited  an  invert- 
ed image  of  the  fun,  as  they  ilioold  do  if 
produced  on  the  principle  above  men- 
tioned. It  has  been  aOced  indeed,  if  this 
folutioD  be  corre<^,  why  does  not  the  en- 
lire  image  of  the  fun  appear  in  fimilar 
ficuations  to  daily  obfervatioo  ?  The  faxfk 
19,  that  it  does  thus  appear,  though  it 
may  not  have  been  obfcrved,  of  which 
any  perfon  may  be  fatisfied,  who  will  ex- 
amine the  fhade  of  trees,  on  a  fmooth  fur- 
Jace,  when  the  fun  is  near  the  meridian. 
Faint  light  fpots,  of  a  circular  form,  are 
very  perceptible.  They  were  ftronger 
and  more  dlftindt  during  the  eclipfc,  from 
the  deep  furrounding  (hade.  Several 
per(bns  have  remarked  the  diflin<5^  and 
well-defined  fliade  of  obje<Sb,  when  the 
fun  was  nearly  obfcured.  It  feemed  to 
fbem  that  a  profile  might  be  taken  as 
perfe<Slly  as  from  a  (hade  thrown  on  a 
wall  by  meane  of  a  lamp.  We  do  not 
find,  however,  that  tt)is  appearance  un- 
der the  leaves  of  trees  has  ibeen  before 
noticed  on  fimilar  occafions. 
We  wifli  for  fiirther  obfervations  on  this 
fabje<5l,  and  that  other  explaoations  may 
be  offered,  if  what  it  here  Aiggefted  be 
noC  fatisfactory. 

We  have  taken  fome  pains  to  colle^l 
tccounu  from  other  places  of  obfervt- 


tions  on  this  remaifobfe  edipfe.  W« 
were  particularly^  defirous  of  afcertsin^ 
ing  the  northern  and  foutfiem  limits 
of  the  (hadow.  At  Newport,  Nanfnckef , 
and  Martha's  Vincprd,  the  eclipfe,  wc 
are  informed,  was  not  total :  bnt  it  was 
total  at  New-Bcdfoid,  at  Rocheder,  at 
Wareham,and  at  Falmouth,  on  the  north-* 
eVn  fide  of  the  Vineyard  found.  It  wa» 
not  t(»ial  at  Portfamd,  nor  at  Biddeford  ; 
but  it  was  fo  at  Kennebunk,  between 
Biddeford  and  Portfraouth.  If  this  in- 
formation be  correal,  the  breadth  of  the 
(hadow  was  about  1 20  nriles,  and  enveK 
oped  the  entire  territory  of  Mafiadni^ 
felts  #n^,  excepting  Martha's  Yineyard 
and  Nantucket. 

Some  perfons,  who  were  on  the  wi^ 
ter  in  the  harbour,  noticed,  during  the 
total  obfcuration,  particles  of  congeaU 
ed  mift,  refembling  fnow,  Hitting  through 
the  air.  The  fame  appearance  is  £ud 
to  have,  been  noticed  at  Gloucefter,  oo 
Cape  Ann,  but  we  have  no  accurate  in- 
formation on  the  fub}e<5l.  At  P!ymotitlr, 
the  fifliermen  in  the  bar  obferved  the 
luminous  appearance  of  tne  fpray  of  the 
fea,  which  is  frequently  apparent  hi  the 
night  on  the  ocean.  Dr.  Halley  itltl- 
mates  fome  appearances  of  alarm  among 
ih^  fjby  during  the  eclipfe  of  1715.  Wc 
have  not  heard  any  fimilar  remark  at 
this  time. 

No  fpots  were  feen  upon  the  face  of 
the  fun.  The  luminous  drops,  which  are 
mentioned  by  many  aOronomers  as  very 
apparent  in  former  eclipfes  when  the 
fun  is  reduced  to  a  fmall  thread  of  light, 
were  noticed  by  fome  obferrers  ;  by 
others  they  were  not  feen.  Some  fmaa 
inequalities  were  obferved,  by  fome  of 
our  company,  on  the  lower  edge  of  the 
moon  ;  but  they  could  not  be  perceived 
by  others.  Some  perfons  have  remark- 
ed,  that  the  luminous  ring  round  the 
moon,  at  the  time  of  total  obfcnration 
of  the  fun,  was  fmaller  and  of  a  faints 
light  on  the  upptr  fide,  than  on  any 
other  part  of  her  circumference. 

Some  further  particulars,  which  w« 
have  not  letfore  at  prefent  to  digeft,  may 
be  the  fubjed  of  a  future  f-— -"-=— •i'— 

BoOoOt  >untSOch. 


Digitized  by  VjOOQ IC 


331 


MONTHLY   CATALOGUE 

Or  New  PvblicaTions  in  the  Ukited  Sci'ates  for  Juke,  1806. 

Sunt  bona,  funt  xjuxtliB  mediociii,  font  xntli  phira.— MART. 


NEW  WORKS. 

POETRY. 

The  Eacbaoted  Lake  of  tfie  Fairy 
Morgana.  From  the  Orlaado  Inamorato 
9f  Francefco  Bcrni.  bvo.  pp.  68.  8?^ 
cents,  boards.    New  York,  I.  Riley  &  Co. 

Original  Poems.  By  Thomas  Green 
Feflendcn,  Efq.  author  of  Terrible  Trac- 
loratlon,  3cc.  12mo.  pp.  204'.  Phila- 
delphia, printed  at  the  Lorenzo  Prcfs  of 
E.  Broafun. 

The  Knight  and  Quack  :  or  a  looking- 
^lafs  for  iropoftors  in  phyfick,  philofophy, 
9nd  government.  An  allegorical  poem- 
By  Diivid  Hitchcock,  author  of  the  Shade 
of  Plato,  pp.  28  quarto.  Pr.  25  cents. 
Hudfon,  H.Crofwcll. 

The  Quinteflence  of  UniverfalHiftory  ; 
or,  an  epitomial  hlflory  of  th  e  Chrifliaa 
xra  ;  a  poem.  By  William  Scales.  I2mo. 
pp.  S4.  MafTachufetts,  printed  for  the 
parchafert. 

HISTORY. 

Vol.  3d  of  the  Hiflory  of  the  rife,pro- 
^eis,  and  termination  of  the  Amencan 
Revolution  (  interfperfed  with  biograph- 
ical, poUtical,and  moral  obfervations.  In 
three  volumes.  By  Mr*.  Mercy  War- 
ren, of  Plymouth,  (Mafl* )  Bofton ,  print- 
ed by  M^inning  &  Loring  for  K.  Lark- 
ia.     8vo.  pp.412. 

ASTRONOMY. 

A  Defcription  of  the  great  Solar  E- 
cllpfe,  that  will  take  place  on  the  16th 
inft.  reprefented  in  every  particular,  from 
beginning  to  end,  with  an  explanation  of 
eclipfes  in  general,  and  alfo  the  caufes  on 
which  they  depend.  Price  25  cts.  New- 
York,  Brilban  &  Brannan. 

I>arkncf8  at  Noun  ;  or  the  great  folar 
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reprefented  in  every  particular.  Written 
in  a  Ilyle,  adapted  to  every  capacity.  By 
-an  inhabitant  of  Bofton.  12ma  fiioftoh, 
D.  Carlide,  and  A.  Newell. 

LAW. 

Reports  of  Cafet,  argued  and  deter- 
mined in  the  Supreme  Court  of  Judica- 
ture of  the  (late  of  New- York.  By  Wil- 
liam Johnfon,  Eiq.  counfellor  at  law. 
Vol.  L  Part  L  February  term,  1 806.  Sva 
pp.  160.    New-York,  Uaac  Riley  &  Co. 

The  Trial  of  the  Boot  and  Shoemaiert 
•f  Philadelphia  on  aA  indictment  of  comp 


binatk>n  and  confpiracy  to  raife  their 
wages.  Taken  in  fhort  hand,  by  Tbo»* 
Lloyd.     8V0.    75  cents.    Philadelphia. 

Report  of  the  Trial  of  X>ominick  Da- 
ley and  James  Halligan,  for  the  murder 
of  Marcus  Lyon,  before  the  fupreme  ju- 
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April.  By  a  member  of  the  Bar.  North- 
ampton, Maf.  W.&  S.Butler.  8vo.  pp.88. 

CONVEYANCING. 

The  American  Clerk's  Magazine,  and 
complete  pra^cal  conveyancer.  Con- 
taining the  mod  ufeful  and  neceflary 
precedents,  with  obfervations  and  refe- 
rences to  the  laws,  &c.  with  a  variety  of 
other  ufeful  inHriiments  in  writing.  The 
whole  adapted  to  the  ufe  of  the  citizens 
of  the  United  States,  and  more  particu- 
larly to  thofe  of  the  flate  of  Maryland. 
By  a  Gentleman  of  the  Bar.  1  vol.  12mo. 
pp.  350.  Price  1  fi5,  Hagerftown,  M«r. 
Jacob  Dictrick. 

DIVINITY. 

Mr.  Merriirs  defcnfive  armour  taken 
from  him  ;  or,  a  reply  to  his  Twelve 
Letters  to  the  Author,  on  the  mode  and 
fubjects  of  Baptifm  ;  in  which  the  liber- 
tics  and  privileges  of  Chriftians  are  ref- 
cued  from  the  bondage  which  clofe  com^ 
munion  baptifts  would  impofe  on  them. 
By  Samuel  Auftin,  A.  M.  Worceftef, 
Ifaiah  Thomas,  jun. 

The  Chriftian  Monitor,  No.  11,  con- 
taining obfervations  on  the  lifd  »nd  cha- 
radler  of  Jefus  Chrift.  Bodon,  Munroc 
&  Francis.     1 2mo.  pp.  200.  price  90  cts. 

An  EiTay  on  Truth:  eontaintng  an 
enquiry  into  its  nature  and  importance  ; 
with  the  caufes  of  error,  and  the  reafons 
of  its  being  permitted.  By  And.  Fuller. 
8vo.pp.30.  Bofton, Manning  and  Loring. 

Letters  addrefiVd  to  the  editor  of  A 
Colledlion  of  EiTays  on  the  fubje^  of 
'Epifcopacy.  By  the  author  of  *•  Mifcel- 
lanics.**  8vo.  pp.  40.  Albany,  Backus 
and  Whiting. 

Seemingly  experimental  religion  in- 
flru(5h)rs  unexperienced — converters  nn- 
converted— revivals  killing  religion— mif- 
iionaries  in  neefl  of  teaching,  or,  war 
againd  the  gofpe).  By  its  friends.  Be- 
ing the  examination  and  rejecftion  erf 
Thomas  Ledlie  Birch,  a  foreign  ordained 
miniderfbythe  Ret.  Prcft>ytcry  of  Ohio^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


"532 


MOKTHLY   CATALOGfXK. 


under  the  very  Rcir.  genenl  aflemblv*t 
alien  adt  The  trial  of  the  Rev.  Jmui 
M'BfCUan,  before  the  Rer.  PreOijtery  of 
Ohio  for  defiuning  Birch.  The  trial  and 
acquittal  of  the  Rev.  Preibytery  of 
Ohio  before  the  very  Rev.  General  Af- 
fembiy  of  the  Prefbyterian  church  of  A- 
merica.  See.  By  Rev.  Thomat  JL.  Birch« 
A.M.    Philadelphia,  W.Duaae. 

Preciouf  Truth  :  or  fome  points  in 
gofpel  cUxflrine  vindicated :  in  a  feriet  of 
letters  addrefied  to  chriftians  of  every 
denomination.  Bv  Rev.  John  Anderfon. 
To  which  it  added,  **  Tlie  Stone  rolled  a- 
way,'*  a  fermon.  Pittiburgfa,  Zadok  Cra* 
mcr.     87  ctt.  in  boards,  1  dol.  bound. 

The  ufe  and  importance  of  preaching 
the  diltinguidiing  dodbinet  of  the  gofpel, 
illudrated  in  a  fermon  at  the  ordmation 
of  the  Rev.  John  Keep,  to  the  paftoral 
charge  of  the  Congregational  Church  in 
Blandford,  Oa.  30,  1805.  By  Afahd 
Hooker,  a.  m.  Paftor  of  the  church  in 
Goihen,  Con.      Northampton,  Butler. 

Sau<5tuary  Waters,  or  the  fpread  of  the 
gofpel  ;  a  fermon,  preached  before  the 
MaiTachufettt  Baptift  Miflionary  Society, 
at  their  annual  meeting,  May  28,  1 806. 
By  William  Collier,  a.m.  paQor  of  the 
Baptift  church  in  CharleQown.  8vo. 
Boilon,  Manning  and  Loriag. 

A  fermon,  preached  before  the  Coo^ 
vention  of  the  Clergv  of  Maflachufettt, 
May  29, 1 806.  By  Jofeph  Lyman,  D.  D. 
pafhir  of  the  church  in  Hatfield*  8vo. 
pp.  24.     BoQon,  D.  CariiHe. 

Preparation  for  war  the  bed  fecurity 
ibr  peace.  IIIuArated  in  a  fermon,  deli v^ 
ered  before  the  Ancient  and  Honourable 
Artillery,  vn  the  anuiverfary  of  their 
eledlion  of  officers,  Bodon,  June  2,  i  806. 
.By  James  Kendall,  a.m.  minifler  of  the 
Brft  church  in  Plymouth.  8vo.  pp.  31. 
Bodon,  Munroe  &  Francis. 

A  difcourfe,  occafione^l  by  the  death 
,of  Thomas  Allen,  iun.  £fq.  one  of  the 
reprefentatives  of  the  town  of  Pittsfield 
in  the  general  court  of  the  common- 
wealth of  MafTachnfetts,  wIk)  died  in 
Bofton,  22d  March,  1806.  By  Tho«. 
Allen,  A.  jd.  Paflor  of  the  Church  in 
Pittsfield.     8vo.     Pittsfield,  P.  AUen. 

The  immoral  tendenty  of  error^  illuf- 
trated  in  a  fermon  delivered  at  the  ordi- 
nation of  the  Rev.  James  Beach,  to  the 
.  padoral  care  of  the  Church  in  Winftead, 
Jan.  11,1806.  By  Aiahel  Hooker,  A- 
.  M.  Pador  of  the  Church  in  Go^^. 
iiartford,  Lincoln  and  Gleafon.  1806. 

A  fermon   delivered  at  Stockbridge, 

Sept.  nth,, 1 804;    U   the  interment  of 

*Mn.  Elizabeth  Wed,  aged  74,  confort 


of  Rev.  Stephen  Weft,  D.  D.  And  her 
nephew,  Henry  W.  Dwight,  Efq.  who 
died  the  fame  day,  in  the  46th  year  of 
hit  age.  By  Rev.  Alvan  Hyde.  Stock- 
brid^,  WiUard. 

A  difcouiie,  delivered  in  the  fotith 
church  in  Portfmomh,  at  the  interment 
of  the  Rev.  Samnel  Haven,  D.  D.  who 
departed  this  life  March  3,  1806,  in  the 
79th  year  of  his  age,  and  54th  of  hii 
mini  dry.  And  of  his  wife  Mrs.  Marga- 
ret Haven,  who  furvived  her  hufband 
about  thirty-fix  hours.  By  Jofeph 
Buckminder.  D.  D.  Alfo  a  Monody  on 
their  death,  by  the  Rev.  James  A.  NeaL 
8vo.    Portfmouth,  N.H.  Treadwell 

ViDdex,  or  the  dodhioet  of  the  dric- 
tures  vindicated  againft  the  reply  of  Mr. 
StoQt.  By  John  P.  CampbelL  Lezing- 
too.  Ken.  Bradford. 

Van  Tromp  lowering  his  peak  with  a 
broadfide.  Containing  a  plea  for  the 
Baptids,of  Conne<9icut.  By  John  lie- 
land.     I  Smo.  Danbury ,  S.  Nichols. 

A  Soliloquy  of  Brother  Aboer  Koee- 
land,  on  the  death  of  his  wife  and  child. 
Walpolc,  N.  H.  Carter  &  Hale. 

A  fermon  delivered  on  the  lad  thankf- 
giving  at  Wadtington,  Mafs.  By  W.  G. 
Ballantine,A.  M.  Stockbridge.  10  cents. 

RRETOIXCK. 

An  Inaugural  Oration,  delivered  at  the 
author's  indallation,  as  Boyldon  Profef- 
for  of  Rhetorick  and  Oratory,  at  Harvard 
yniverfity,  in  Cambridge,  MalTachufetts, 
on  Thurfday  12  June,  1806  :  By  John 
^uincy  Adams.  Publifhed  at  the  requeft 
of  the  Student!.  8vo.  Bodon,  Munroe 
and  Frauds. 

MISCELIANEOUS. 

The  Spirit  of  the  Publick  Journal*  for 
the  year  180,5. "  Price  1  dol.  Baltimore, 
S.  Bourne. 

A  Tranfcript  of  the  Documents  and 
Statements,  fubmitted  by  Samuel  Bryan 
to  the  committee  of  the  houfe  of  repre- 
fentatives of  Pennfylvaaia.  Philadel- 
phia, W.  Duane. 

A  remarkable  indance  of  the  indabi- 
Hty  of  nature  at  once  Turprifing,  &.c. 
Walpole,  Carter  3t  Hale. 

The  Logick  of  Fa^s  ;  or  the  condu^ 
if  Wm.  Rawle,  Efq.  towards  G.N.  Dufief, 
arraigned  before  the  tribunal  of  puh- 
lick  opinion  :  with  a  letter  to  the  purcba- 
fcrs  of  Nature  Difplayed,  containing  J»n 
improved  method  of  ufing  that  work,  &c. 
Bv  the  author  of  Nature  BifpUycd. 
Philadelphia!. 

A  geographical  'thart  of  the  principal 
(bites  andkingdoms't^  the  known  wOrld. 
Amhcrft,  N.H.  Joleph  Cufhing. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


MONTHLY  CATALaOUE. 


55 


NEW  romoNs. 

HISTORY. 

The  Secret  Hiftory  of  the  Court  of 
St.  Cloud,  a  new  and  highly  inrerefting 
"Work.  J.  Wairs,  P!iila<1elphia,  and  I. 
Riley  and  Co.     New  York. 

The  three  firft  volumes  of  the  Life  and 
Pontificate  of  I^o  the  Tenth.  By  Wil- 
liam Roil  ae.  8vo.  pp.  I  ft  vol.  464  ;  2d 
vol.  422  ;  3d  vol.  460.  Philadelphia, 
.  Loren'/o  Prefs  of  E.  Bronfon. 

Vols.  2  and  3  of  Attquetir*  Univerfal 
iSftory,  exhibiting  the  rife,  decline,  and 
revolution  of  all  the  nations  in  the  world. 
8vo.  2  dols.  each,  in  boards.  Philadel- 
phia, C.  P.  Wayne. 

Sacred  and  profane  Hiftory  epitomiz- 
ed ;  with  a  coatiuuatioo  of  modern  hif- 
tory  to  the  prefent  time.  To  which  is  ad- 
ded, an  account  of  the  feudal  fyftem,  the 
crufades,  chivalry,  the  reformation,  and 
the  revival  of  learning.  By  Benjamin 
Tucker.     Philadelphia.     Jacob  Johnfon. 

A  Syllabus  of  the  hiftory  of  England  ; 
to  which  is  appended,  a  tour  through 
the  fonthem  parts  of  Great-Britain,  de- 
figned  to  aid  the  pupil  in  acquiring  a. 
knowledge  of  fome  of  the  principal  cities, 
towns,  places,  manufactories,  and  natural 
curiofities  of  England.  By  Stephen  Ad- 
dington,  principal  of  Union  Academy. 
Price  31  cents.     Philadelphia,  D.  Hogan. 

LAW. 

Buller's  Nifi  Prius  :  in  one  hand  fome 
royal  8va  vol.    New  York ,  Riley  &Co. 

PO^TIT. 

The  Poem»  of  OlTian,  tranflated  by 
James  Macpherfon,  Efq.  2  vols.  12mo. 
Price  2,25.  Rrfl  American  edition. 
New- York,  J.  &  T.  Ronalds,  and  Evert 
Buyckinck. 

The  2d,  3d,  and  4th  Nos.  of  Southey's 
Madoc.  8vo.   Bofton,  Munroe  &  Francis. 

The  poetical  works  of  John  Milton, 
from  the  text  of  Dr.  Newton  ;  with  a 
critical  eflay,  by  J.  Aikin,  m.d.  2  vols, 
fmall  iSmo.  pp.400each.  Charleflown, 
S.  Etheridge. 

MlfCKLtAKEOrS. 

The  Fafhionable  World  Difplayed. 
By  Rev.  John  Owen.  Dedicated  to  the 
I«rd  Biibop  of  London.  1 2mo.  75  cts. 
New-York,  J.  Oiborae. 

letters  to  a  young  Lady  on  a  courfe 
of  Englifti  Poetry.  By  J.  Aikin,  M.  D. 
12mo.  Price  in  calf  1».W;  fheep  1,25; 
boards  1  dollar.     New  York,  J.Ofbome. 

Nature  Difplayed.  By  D*  Orlic.  8vo 
Philadelphia,  Lorenzo  prefs. 

A  (hort  Svftem  of  polite  Learning.  By 
Danid  Jaudin.    Philadelphia,  J.  Johnfon. 


The  Complete  Family  Brewer,  or  the 
belt  method  of  brewing  or  making  any 
quantity  of  good  fbong  ale,  and  finall 
beer  in  the  greateft  pcrfedton.  Phila- 
delphia, B.  Graves. 

GEOMETRY. 

Elements  of  Geometry,  containing  the 
firft  lix  books  of  Euclid,  with  a  fupple- 
ment,  containing  the  quadrature  of  the 
circle,  and  the  geometry  of  folids.  By 
John  Playfair,  profeflbr  of  mathcmaticks 
in  the  univerfity  of  Edinburgh.  Price  2 
dols,    Philadelphia,  Francis  Nichols. 

CUCMISTRT. 

Elements  of  Chemiftry,  in  a  new  fyf- 
tematick  order,  containing  all  the  modem 
difcoveries,  illuftrated  by  1 4  copperplates. 
By  Mr.  Lavoifier,  member  of  the  Acad- 
emies and  Societies  of  Paris,  &c.  Tranf- 
lated from  the  French  by  Robert  Kerr. 
From  the  5th  Edinburgh  edition,  with 
DOteSf  tables,  and  confiderable  additions. 
8vo.  2  vols.  Price  3,50.  J4ew-York, 
J.  &  T.  Ronalds,  and  Evert  Duyckinck. 

AGRICULTURE. 

The  importance  of  cultivating  the 
Bourbon  Cotton.  By  the  Agricultural 
Society  of  the  Bahama  iflands.  8vo. 
Charlefton,  S.  C.   W.Young. 

DIVINITY". 

The  Charges  of  Jean  Baptifte  Maflil- 
lon,  BiHiop  of  Clermont,  addrcfTed  to  his 
clergy :  To  which  are  added,  two  Eflays, 
the  one  on  the  art  of  preaching,  and  tne 
other  on  the  compofition  of  a  ffrmon. 
By  Rev.  Theophilus  St.  John.  8vo.  I  vol. 
New- York,  Brifban  &  Brannan. 

God  the  Guardian  of  the  Poor,  and 
the  bank  of  faith  :  or,  a  difplay  of  the 
providences  of  God,  which  have  at  fun- 
dry  times  attended  the  author.  In  two 
parts.  By  William  Huntington.  From 
the  7th  London  edition.  Svo.  pp.  22L 
1  dol.     Bofton,  B.  Pike. 

The  Sacred  Mirror  ;  or,  compendious 
view  of  fcripture  hiftory  ;  containing  a 
faithful  narration  of  aJl  the  principal 
events  recorded  in  the  Old  and  New  Tef- 
taments,'from  the  creation  of  the  world 
to  the  death  of  St.  Paul  ;  with  a  contin- 
uation from  that  period  to  the  final  de- 
ftru<5Hon  of  Jenifalem  by  the  Roman?. 
Defigned  for  the  mental  improvement  of 
youth,  and  panicularly  adapted  to  th^ 
ufe  of  fchools.  By  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Smith,  author  of  the  Univerfal  Atlas,  &c. 
Firft  American  edition.  To  which  is 
added  a  copious  index,  not  in  the  Ed- 
glifli  copy.  12mo.  pp.  316.  Bofton,  S. 
H.  Parker. 

Williamfon*!  Explanation  of  the  Af- 


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U4 


HOKTHftT   CATALOaU«. 


ileniblyV  Slioncr  ..Ottcbiim.    75  cents. 
PhlUdelphia,  D.  Ho^ao. 

Alldn  fi  Alarm  to  unconTerted  Sinners. 
Printed  in  the  German  language.  Price 
1  dollar.    LaucaAer,  Penn. 

XOUCATION. 

The  Youth's  Arithmetical  Guide,  be- 
ing a  compendious  fyflem  of  pra^flical 
queftions  in  arithmetick,  deiigned  for  the 
indrudbion  of  youth.  By  Thijmas  Wat- 
foo,  Daniel  laudoa,fUid  Steohen  Adding* 
ton.    5^  cents.   Philadeiphia,  D.Hogan. 

The  only  fure  Guide  to  the  £ngli(b 
Tongue,  or  new  pronouocing  Spelling* 
Book  Upon  the  fame  plan  at  Perry*t 
Royal  Standard  English  Didionary,  now 
made  ufe  of  in  all  the  celebrated  fchooU 
lA  Great*Britain  and  America.  By  Wil- 
liam. Perry.  Fifth  improved  edition, 
carefully  revifed  and  corrected.  1 2mo. 
Worcefler,  Ifaiah  Thomas,  jun. 

The  EngUdi  Orthographical  Expoiitor, 
being  a  compendious  feletflion  of  the 
mod  ufeful  words  in  the  Englidi  lan- 
guage. Alphabetically  arranged;-  di- 
vided, accented,  and  explained  according 
to  the  mod  approved  modern  authorities. 
By  Daniel  Jaudon,  Thomas  Watfon,  and 
Stephen  Addington.  Price  69^  cents. 
Philadelphia,  D.  Hogan. 

WeblWr's  American  Sele<fUon  of  lef- 
fons  in  reading  and  fpeaking.  Hogan't 
fecond  improved  edition.  Price  37 1  cts. 
PhfcUdelpbia. 

WORKS  IN  THE  PRHSS. 

LAW. 

VoL  Sd  o#  Judge  Cranch's  Reportt 
4>f  Cafet  ia  the  Circuit  Court  of  the  Uni- 
ted States,  fivo.  New  York,  Riley  and  Co. 

Tbff  American  Pleader's  Aififtant  ; 
being  a  eoHe^on  of  approved  declara- 
tioBs,  writs,  returns  and  proceedings  in 
the  fereral  a^ons  now  in  ufe  within 
the  Untud  Sutes,  by  Coilinfon  Read, 
£fq.  **  Ipfs  legis  viva  vox.**  .1  vol. 
Bvo.  H.  Maxwell,  Philadelphia,  and  L 
Rilev  &  Coc  New  York. 

The  Study  and  Pra<5lice  of  llie  Law, 
fonfidered  in  their  various  relations  to 
Society,  in  a  feries  of  letiers.  By  a 
member  of  Lincoln's  Inn.  Portland, 
Thomas  B.  Wait   and  Co. 

The  2d  volume  of  Aauni^s  Maritime 
law  of  Europe.  8vo.  New  York,  liaac 
Riley  aad  Co; 

VoL  5  of  Robin{bn*s  Admiralty  Re- 
ports.   8vo.  New  York,  I.  Riley  and  Co. 

Vol.  3  of  Cain's  New  York  Term  Re- 
ports.   New  York,  Riley  add  Co. 

The  9d  vol  of  Call's  Reports.  Rich- 
moodt  ViTi    Tiiof .  NichoUoD. 


■SOOIlAFaT. 

Life  of  Richard  Cumberland,  ISq, 
NeiK'-York,  Brifban  and  Brannan. 

Chamock's  Life  of  Lord  Nalfon. 
New  York.    Riley  and  Co.  8vo. 

POCTRY. 

A  new  and  much  enlarged  edi- 
tion of  a  poem,  entitled,  A  Modem 
Philofopher,  or  Terrible  Tra(5loration, 
Bt  Chrittopher  Cauftick.  8vo.  with 
plates.  Philadelphia,  Lorenzo  Prefs. 

The  Echo,  a  cone<5tion  of  poems.  New 
York,  I.  Riley  and  Co.  8vo.  2fi3  boards. 

NOVELS. 

Leonora,  by  Mifs  Edgeworth.  1 2mo« 
1  vol    New  York.    Riley  and  Co. 

WORKS  BY  SUBSCRIPTION. 

LAW. 

Commentaries  on  the  Laws  of  Eng- 
land, in  four  books.  By  Sir  William 
BlackAune,  Knt.  oue  of  the  ju^'ces  of  his 
majefty's  coiut  of  common  pleas.  From 
the  lateft  London  edition,  with  the  laft 
corre(Slions  of  the  author,  and  with  notes 
and  additions,  by  Edward  Chriftian,  £fq. 
chief  juQice  of  the  ifle  of  Ely,  and  the 
Downing  profeflbr  of  the  laws  of  Eng- 
land in  the  univerdty  of  Cambridge. 
8vo.  4  vols.  Price  2^50,  each  volume,  in 
boards.     Portland,  T.  B.  Wait  and  Co. 

COMMERCE. 

European  Commerce,  (hewing  new 
aiid  fecure  channels  of  trade  with  the 
continent  of  Europe  ;  detailing  the  pro- 
duce, manufadlures,  and  cominerce  of 
RulCa,  PrulCa,  Sweden,  Denmark,  and 
Gcrmanv,  &c.  &.c»  By  J.  Eddy,  merchant, 
of  Loncfon,  late  chief  partner  of  com- 
mercial edablidunentf  in  Peterlburg  and 
Antwerp,  and  a  member  of  the  Ruflia, 
and  Turkey  or  Levant  Companies.  Phi- 
ladelphia, James  Humphreys. 

MEOiCINB. 

A  new  work,  On  the  Dilcovery  of  f 
Specifick  for  the  Cure  and  Prevention  of 
the  Yellow  Malignant  Fever,  and  difor- 
ders  of  the  bilious,  putrid,  and  malignant 
kind,  followed  by  a  di^ertation  on  the 
Cholera  Infantum,  the  Lynanchc  Trach^ 
ealis,  or  Croup,  and  by  a  new  method 
fur  the  cenam  cure  of  it — Adapted!  to 
perfons  of  everv  capacity.  Addre^e^  t» 
the  citixensof  the  United  Sutes — ^By  Dr. 
John  J.  Giraud.  1  vol  S?o.  Price  i2^0 
bound.    Baltimore. 

UlSTORT. 

The  Hiftory  of  Napolean  Bonaparte* 
emperour  of  the  French,  and  Kmg  •£ 
Italy,  embelliflied  with  an  engraving  of 
the  grand  battle  of  Aullerlitz  ;  with  aa 
appendix,  containing  a  .comprehenfiTe 


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33$ 


▼icw  of  the  French  rrvdution  to  tht 
preTent  criiis.  1  vol.  8va  2  dois.  boaad. 
Baltimore,  Waraer  and  Hanaa. 

POLITICKS. 

The  No».  of  PhocioQ,  which  have  ap- 
peared in  the  Charleflon  Courier,  on  the 
itibjec^  of  Neutral  Rights.  Revifed  and 
corre<5led.    8va  50  cents.    Cbarlefton. 

STATISTICKS. 

A  Map  of  the  territory  of  New  Or- 
leans, comprifing  Weft  Florida,  and  a 
part  of  the  Miffiffippi  territory.  The  au- 
thor hat  defcribed  the  frontiers  of  the 
territory  according  to  th«  new  plan  of 
^vifion,  which  he  executed  himfelf  bv 
order  of  the  legislature.  The  Map  is 
4  feet  wide  and  8  feet  high — its  latitude 
extends  from  the  mouth  of  the  river 
MtflUBppi  to  the  limit  of  the  territory. 
Price  to  fubfcribers  8  dollart.  New  Or- 
leans, Barthelemi  Lafon. 

DIVINITT. 

Six  Sermons  on  important  fubjeifbi, 
preached  by  the  Rev.  James  H.  Ray, 
late  Paftor  of  the  Church,  and  Redlor  of 
tiie  Academy,  at  Oreen(borough.  To- 
other with  "  Poems  Sacred  to  Chriftian- 
ity,**  by  the  lame  author.  1  voL  12mo. 
Price  1,25  bound.  Augulb,  (Geor.) 
Hobby  &,  Bunce. 

HoTx  Pauline  ;  or  the  truth  of  the 
fcriptore  hiftory  of  St.  Panl,  evinced  by 
a  comparifon  of  the  epiftles  which  bear 
bis  name  with  the  adb  of  the  apoftles,  and 
^th  one  another.  By  Willi^un  Paley, 
DJ>.  archdeacon  of  Carlifle.  1vol.  12mo. 
pp.  about  350  or  400.  2  dolls,  bound. 
Gunbridge.  W.  Hilliard 

The  Art  of  Contentment.  By  the  au- 
thor of  the  Whole  Duty  of  Man,  ^cc 
1 2ma  pp.  200.  To  fubfcribers  62|  cts. 
Lancafter,  Penn.    Wm.  Dickfon. 

MISCCLLANEOtTS. 

A  monthly  magasine,  on  an  entire 
new  plan,to  be  intitled  The  Britiih  Olio  ; 
sad  North  American  Mufeura.  This 
iwork  is  intended  to  be  equally  ufeful  and 
entertaining  to  the  readers  of  both  na- 
tions. From  a  plan  like  thift,  the 
Ameriban  dtisen  will  be  fiirnKhed 
anatUy  witk  tfat  literary,  commercial, 
.and  politick!  ftate  of  Great  Britain ; 
while,  in  the  fame  number,  he  may  meet 
Wit)!  domelhck  occurrences,  which  have 
not  been  noticed,  even  by  his  own  diur- 
nal prima.  The  Englith  reader,  too,  fa^ 
TOBoved'from  his  native  land,  may  cal- 
culate opcm  v^\  advantages ;  for,  bo- 
/idet  every  thingneceflary  for  his  informs^ 
tioB  that  can  be  found  in  Londbn  period- 
ical publications, he  will  be  gratified  with 
"a  uhiuta  defcriptioii  of  a  cduntry,  n^pi^ 


ly  advancing  'in  cbmmtree,  Oteratore, 
and  the  arts  and  fciences.  This  wt>rk 
will  contain  the  iame  number  of  pages,^ 
as  the  London  or  American  literary  ma- 
gazines ;  and  each  number,  ia  cafe  of 
adequate  iupporc,  will  be  ornamented 
with  copper  plate  engravings,  by  the 
beft  artifb,  defcriptive  of  (bme  memora- 
ble tranfatf^oos  interefting  to  both  coun<* 
tries  ;  or,  portraits  of  fuch  emrnent  cha- 
ra<£ler5,  as  may,  from  time  to  time,  be 
brought  forward  in  the  courfe  of  the 
publication.  Subfcriptions  for  not  lefs 
than  one  year,  50  cts  per  No.  8vo.  Lon- 
don and  Philadelphia. 

INTELLIGENCE. 

Mr.  Ezra  Sargeaot  of  New  York  hat 
in  the  prefs,  in  one  volume  duodecimo^ 
A  Tranflation,  with  Notes,  of  the  Third 
Satire  of  Juvenal.  To  which  are  added, 
Mifcellaneous  Poems,  original  and  tranf- 
lated.  By  a  young  gentleman  of  very 
promifing  talents  of  that  city. 

A  new  thermometer  lias  been  invents 
ed  for  regiftering  the  higheft  and  lay^eH 
temperatures  in  the  abfence  of  the  ob- 
ferver,  which  is  faid  to  be  a  more  (im- 
ple,  as  well  as  a  lefs  expenfive,  inftru- 
ment  than  Six*s  thenaometer.  It  can- 
fifts  In  two  thermometers,  one  mcreurial, 
and  the  other  of  alkohols,  having  three 
flems  horizontal.  The  fonner  has  for 
its  index  a  fmall  piece  of  magnetieal  (ted 
wire,  and  the  Utter  a  minute  thread  of 
glafs,  having  iu  two  ends  fonaud  into 
fmall  knobs  by  fufien  in  the  flame  of  a 
candle.  The  magnetieal  bit  of  wire  lies 
in  the  vacapt  fpace  of  the  mercurial  ther- 
mometer, and  is  poilied  forward  by  the 
mercury  whenever  the  temperature  rifes 
and  puihes  that  fluid  agaiad  it ;  but 
when  the  tamperatuie  falls,  and  the  fluid 
retires,  this  index,  is  left  behind,  and 
(hews  the  moKimum .  The  other  index,  or 
bit  of  glafs,  lies  in  the  tube  of  the  fpirit- 
thermometer,  immerfed  in  the  alkohol, 
and  when  the  fpirit  retires  by  thedepref- 
fion  of  temperature,  tb^  index  is  carried 
ak>ng  with  it  in  apparent  contadt  witk 
itsinteriour/urface  ;  but  on  increafe  of 
temperature  the  fpirit  goes  forward  and 
leaves  the  index  behind,  which  there- 
fore ihews  the  wiimimmm  of  temperature 
fince  it  was  fet.  The  fteel  index  is  eafi- 
ly  brought  to  the  mercury  by  applying 
a  magnet  on  the  outfide  of  the  tube^  and 
the  cMher  is  properlv  placed  at  the  end 
of  the  column  alkohol  by  inclining  the 
whole  iafbiimeat 


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336 


BDITO&S     MOTES. 


EDITORS'  NOTES. 

Oua  present  number  is  enrich- 
ed with  a  production  from  the  pen 
of  the  Hon.  J.  Q.  Adams.  By  ma- 
king use  of  the  Anthology  for  en- 
chasing the  jewel,  he  has  conferi'ed 
an  honour,  of  which  we  are  not 
insensible,  and  a  compliment  of 
which  we  are  proud.  If  the  Pro- 
fessor of  Rhetorick,  in  his  new 
rambles  through  poetry  and  prose, 
should  note  any  thing  of  ^^  pleasant 
aspect"  for  the  general  view,  we 
should  be  happy  in  displaying  it 
for  publick  applause.  We  wish 
him  complete  success  in  his  pres- 
ent literary  exertions  ;  and  though, 
for  each  course  of  his  lectures,  he 
will  not  receive  the  splendidDidac- 
tron  of  Isocrates,  a  thousand  mina;, 
yet  we  trust,  that  his  discourses 
will  be  such,  as  Quintilian  might 
praise,  and  that  the  consequent  re- 
nown will  fully  compensate  the 
scanty  pecuniary  emolument  of 
the  new  professorship. 

Many  subscribers  to  the  Amer- 
ican edition  of  Rees's  Cyclopxdia 
have  expressed  in  strong  terms 
their  disapprobation  of  the  nmti- 
lated  state  in  which  several  articles 
arc  exhibited.  We  shall  not  give, 
at  present,  any  opinion  respecting 
the  extent  of  these  mutilations  ; 
though,  from  the  respectability  of 
the  complainants,  we  are  afraid 
they  are  important.  Should  this 
appear  to  be  the  case,  we  have  no 
hesitation  in  asserting,  that  such 
conduct  is  altogether  unjustifiable. 
Let  the  American  editors  add  what 
they  think  useful  or  important, 
provided  they  be  careful  to  dis- 
tinguish what  they  insert,  from 
that  wliich  rests  upon  the  author- 
ity of  the  learned  and  laborious  Dr. 
Rees  ;  but  let  us  have  no  gar- 
blings,  no  mutilations,  no  index 
expurgatorius.  The  work  in  ques- 
tion is  of  the  most  respectable 
class.  Upwards  of  forty  of  the 
"first  literary  men  ii^  Great  Britain 


and  Ireland  are  engaged  to  fiimisfff 
the  various  articles  ;  and  the  whole 
is  under  the  superintendence  of 
an  editor,  who  has  already  proved 
himself  fully  equal  to  the  task. 
That  any  men  should  venture  to 
alter  such  a  work  would  argue  no 
little  hardihood,  and  he  would 
more  probably  incur  the  suspicion 
of  overweening  confidence,  than 
inspire  a  belief  in  his  capacity  to 
improve  the  publication.  But 
that  this  should  be  done  by  anonym 
mous  criticks,  of  whose  character 
for  judgment  and  talents  the 
world  knows  nothing,  is  an  imper- 
tinence, for  which  we  cannot  find  a 
name.  It  transfers  the  weighty 
responsibility  of  the  work  from 
those,  who  are  able  to  sust^it, 
to  the  shoulders  of  a  Mr.  Nobody, 
whom  we  have  neither  seen  nor 
heard.  We  hesitate  not  to  say, 
that  the  whole  of  the  Cyclopaedia, 
as  edited  by  Dr.  Rees,  ought  to  be 
given  to  the  subscribers.  The  A- 
merican  publishers  have  an  un- 
doubted right  to  add,  to  explain, 
to  correct  an  error,  or  insert  a  cau- 
tion, witliin  the  limitation  we  have 
mentioned  ;  but  this  right  does 
not  extend  to  mutilation  or  omis- 
sion, which  has  a  tendency  to  con- 
found all  literary  authority,  and  to 
render  the  ground  we  tread  upon 
uncertain  and  unsure.  We  desire  to 
be  understood,  not  as  givmg  a  deci- 
ded opinion  how  far  this  has  been 
done  in  the  work  referred  to ;  but 
are  the  more  earnest  in  pur.ei 
sions,  because  the  practice  Kisuii 
shamefully  prevalent  in 
re-publications ;  so  much  ao  iiati 
no  literary  man  is  safe  in 
ing  upon  many  of  themi 
the  ungarbled  ^nd, 
ted  sense  of  the  ^_ 

With  respect  to  the  workitt^qMi, 
tion,  we  hope  to  give  it,  in  a  future 
number,  a  thorough  examination, 
and  to  administer  strict  justice  be- 
tween the  editors  and  ^^^  tyjjM^ 


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THE 


MONTHLY   ANTHOLOGY. 


JULY,     1806. 


ORIGINAL     LETTERS     TROM     EUROPE. 


Government, .JMW9..JLawyera. 


M.  7. 


The  Idngdom  of  the  two  Sicilies, 
Naples,  became  an  independent 
state  after  the  dissolution  of  the 
Roman  empire,  of  which  it  was  a 
fragment,  and  has  been  from  its 
6rigin  the  perpetual  seat  of  dis* 
cord  and  civil  wars  ;  subjugated 
by  one  nation  after  another,  the 
fertility  of  its  climate,  and  the  la- 
bour of  its  inhabitants,  have  been 
insufficient  to  gratify  the  rapacity 
of  the  conquerors.  Yet  so  lavish 
is  nature  of  her  bounty  to  this 
country,  that  notwithstanding  the 
tremendous  effects  of  earthquakes 
&nd  volcanoes,  and  the  devastations 
of  continual  wars,  an  interval  of  a 
few  years  of  peace  always  restored 
its  former  prosperity.  But  the 
immediate  rapine  and  violence  of 
tiiese  turbulent  times,  terrible  as 
they  were,  have  not  been  so  per- 
tdcious,  as  the  civil  and  political 
consequences  that  resulted  from 
the  irruptions  and  transient  do- 
minibn  of  so  maiiy  different  na- 
tions. The  former  only  afllicted 
a  single  generation,  but  the  latter 
have  been  entailed  upon  posterity. 

This  beautiful,  but  unfortunate 
country,  was  successively  ravaged 
By  the  Normans,  the  Germans, 
the  Spaniards,  and  involved  in  per- 
^tual  quarrels  with  the  intriguing 
ambition  of  the'papal  power,  when 
the  thutider  of  the  Vatican  affright- 

Vol.  III.  No.  r.     2T 


ed  the  greater  part  of  Europe,  in 
those  ages  debased  by  every  species 
of  tyranny  and  superstition.  Ev- 
ery invader  brought  the  laws  of 
his  own  country  ;  the  Neap)olitans, 
besides  retaining  the  Roman  juris- 
prudence of  the  Justinian  code, 
adopted  the  Norman  code,  and, 
that  the  confusion  might  be  worse 
confounded,  joined  to  these,  with 
the  system  of  feudal  rights  and 
tenures,  Spanish  customs  and  au- 
thorities, incorporating  occasion- 
ally with  the  rest,  a  papal  ordina- 
tion. 

This  complicated  system,  or 
rather  this  confused  medley  of 
laws,  many  of  which,  though  they 
were  originally  good,  yet  were  so 
successfully  veiled  in  tedious  fomn, 
as  to  obscure  their  meaning  and 
destroy  their  utility, now  forms  the 
unwieldy,  intricate  system  of  ju- 
risprudence in  this  kingdom.  It 
will  be  easy  to  imagine  the  st^^te 
of  confusion  and  uiictnainty,  in 
which  such  a  system  must  place 
all  sorts  of  claims  or  agreements, 
subject  to  legal  discussion  ;  that 
the  most  equitable  tenure  of  prop- 
erty must  be  insecure,  where  such 
a  wide  field  is  left  open  for  clnca- 
nery  and  le^al  vexation  and  delay. 
Indeed  the  single  fact,  that  there 
are  twenty  thousand  lawyers  in 
Naples,  will  givt;  the  best  idea  of 


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338 


tETTBRS   FROM   Et^ROPlS. 


it  ;  and  it  may  b«  readily  conceiv- 
ed, that  from  the  body  of  laws 
just  mentioned,  (I  hjive  been  told, 
they  sometimes  come  to  cwirt 
with  a  cartload  of  volumes  to  cite 
authorities  and  precedents)  it  is 
easy  for  them  to  protract  any  de- 
cision, till  the  subject  of  dispute 
has  cost  more  than  its  intrinsick 
value.  A  fertile  soil,  a  genial  sky, 
and  the  exertions  of  hidustry, 
von  Id)  in  a  few  years  after  the 
ravages  of  war,  again  give  to  the 
grain  its  customary  protection  in 
this  country  against  the  fervid 
heat  of  the  sun,  the  luxuriant 
shade  of  the  vine,  festoonhig  from 
the  olive,  and  other  fruit  trees, 
planted  at  i*egular  distances  ;...yet 
these  charming  fields  must  be  es- 
teemed uncertain  wealth,,  when 
they  are  held  on  such  a  precarious 
tenure. 

It  is  a  singular  &ct,  that  the 
present  soyeixign  is  the  first  king 
who  was  ever  born  in  the  country. 
A  fiatriot  king  may  be  an  imagin- 
ary being.  Surely  he  cannot  be 
looked  for  here,  where  hp  has  not 
even  the  slight  attachment  of 
birth.  Continually  subjugated  by 
foreign  nations,  they  have  had  a 
succession  of  uionarchs,  strangers 
to  the  country  they  govern- 
ed, and  more  solicitous  about  their 
personal  splendour  and  power, 
than  the  happiness  of  the  people, 
over  whom  they  tyrannized.  This, 
with  the  wretched  state  of  their 
laws,  sufficiently  explains,  why  this 
fine  country  has  always  been  the 
prey  of  others,  and  why  the  king- 
dom of  the  Two  Sicilies,  which 
from  the  fertility  of  its  soil,  the 
-genial  infiuence  of  its  climate,  and 
its  geographical  situation,  ought  to 
have  been  powerful  and  respecta- 
ble, has  been  too  weak  to  resist 
any  rapacious  invader,  and  too 
contemptible  to  excite  tlie  pity  or 
protection  of  any  i*espectable  pow- 


er. The  fertile  island  of  Sicily^ 
once  the  granary  of  the  Roman 
empire,  hardly  gives  more  conse- 
quence to  its  sovereign,  than  bis 
kingdom  of  Jerusalem.  Yet  fitrni 
its  immense  resources,  if  inhabit- 
ed by  an  industrious  people,  whoie 
earnings  should  be  protected  by 
the  laws,  this  island  ought  to  make 
its  owner  a  respectable,  powerful 
sovereign.  In  its  present  state, 
it  is  half  a  desert,  and  half  a  con- 
vent. Nor  do  the  continental  pos- 
sessions afford  much  greater  re- 
sources ;  the  provinces  of  tlie  two 
Calabrias  pay  no  revenues  to  the 
crown,  and  their  principal  coDtri- 
bution  is  a  yearly  convoy  of  » 
hundred  ruffians  to  tlie  galleys  at 
Naples. 

The  Museum  at  Portici  b  one 
monument  in  fiavour  of  the  goT^ 
ernment :  no  recent  researches 
have  been  made,  though  doubUcss 
much  remains  to  be  discovered. 
We  would  pardon,  however,  this 
government  for  letting  tlie  skele- 
tons of  the  inhabitants  of  Pomptit 
repose  in  the  houses,  where  they 
have  been  buried  for  eighteen 
centuries.  This  is  only  disappoint- 
ing the  curiosity  of  the  aitist  and 
antiquarian.  But  when  a  stranger 
witnesses  tlie  degraded  state  of 
their  country,  and  the  indifference 
with  which  they  suffer  its  great 
natural  resources  to  lie  dormant, 
he  cannot  help  execrating  their 
apathy. 

.  The  king  of  Naples,  like  bis 
cousin,  the  king  of  Spain,  is  ex- 
travagantly fond  of  hunting ;  it 
seems  to  be  a  passion  of  the  Span- 
ish line.  Yet  while  the  king  ia 
hi^ntbg  boars  in  the  wilds  of 
Caserta,  his  ministers  are  hunting 
his  subjects  in  every  part  of  the 
kingdom.  Had  the  Neapolitan 
court  been  less  occupied  with  the 
pleasures  of  the  chace>  or  otter 
pleasures  less  ferocious^  and^econ- 


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LIFE   ©F   BENTLET. 


3S9 


•in i zing  their  resources,  endeav- 
oured to  excite  the  industry  of  the 
people  ;  dinnnished  the  herd  of 
insippiificant  nohlesse ;  given  a 
body  of  regular  laws  for  civil  de- 
cisions ;  occupied  the  Lazzaroni 
in  cultivating  Sicily,  or  employed 
them  in  manufactures  ;  had  they 


availed  themselves  of  their  advan- 
tageous position  for  commerce,... 
the  king  of  tiie  Two  Sicilies  would 
have  been  a  powerful  sovereign, 
though  now  obliged  to  cringe,  al- 
ternately, to  the  great  powers  of 
Europe. 


LIFE   OF    RICHARD   BENTLEY,  D.  D. 

Late   Regius  Professor  of   Dtvimttj^   and    Master  of  Trinity   College^ 
Cambridge^   Eng, 

TtfufinMTM  Mf  xm  wpsnrM  ret  9ru  rnt  4^%4i>  «v«e(l«. 

PLATO,  de  Ueft.  IV- 
Continued  from  page  app. 

The  justice  as  well  as  the  acute- 
DCS8  of  these  remarks  was  univer- 
sally acknowledged,  and  Le  Clerc 
was  sensible  that  his  character  as 
a  critick  was  lost,  if  they  remained 
unanswered.  While  he  deliberat- 
ed on  what  measures  he  should 
adopt,  a  manuscript  was  left  at  his 
house  by  a  stranger,  who  in  the 
title-page  called  himself  Philargy- 
rius  Cantabrigiensis.  This  book 
contained  remarks  on  the  frag- 
ments and  corrections  of  several 
crrours,  which  had  escaped  Phile- 
lutherus  Lipsiensis,  in  his  emen- 
dations. 

In  1 7 1 1 ,  Le  Clerc  published  this 
anonymous  defence.  He  prefixed 
a  long  preface,  in  which  he  at- 
tempted to  wipe  off  the  stain  which 
his  critical  abilities  had  received. 
His  arguments,  however,  in  gen- 
eral, are  feeble.  He  does  not^iam^ 
Bentlcy  as  his  adversary,  but  by 
several  hints  points  out  his  suspi- 
cions. 

This  answer  to-  Bentley  was 
written  by  Pauw,  a  man  of  no  very 
extraordinary  abilities.  He  was, 
however,  a  laborious  critick,  and 
tolerably  versed  in  Greek  litera- 
ture. The  remarks  do  not  de- 
serve any  exalted  commendation. 
Bentley,  in  all  probability  wholly 
dbregarded  them^  as  a  few  years 


afterwards,  when  he  published  an- 
other edition  of  his  notes  in  Me- 
nander  and  Philemon,  he  did  not 
appear,  as  far  as  we  can  remember, 
to  have  been  influenced  in  any  sin- 
gle instance  by  the  observations  of 
Philargyrius  Cantabrigiensis.  Ma- 
ny of  them  display  acuteness ;  but 
a  settled  determination,  at  all  e- 
vents,  to  defend  Le  Clerc,  and  de- 
preciate Bentley,  is  too  apparent. 

It  was  observed  by  the  learned 
Dr.  Salter,  the  late  master  of  the 
Charterhouse,  that,  the  critical  re- 
marks interspersed  through  this 
work  were  of  little  value  ;  and,  in 
the  discussion  of  philological  sub- 
jects, his  sentiments  deserve  atten- 
tion. He  was  a  very  accurate 
Greek  scholar.  His  reading  was 
universal,  and  extended  through 
the  whole  circle  of  ancient  litera- 
ture. He  was  acquainted  with  the 
poets,  historians,  orators,  philoso- 
phers, and  criticks  of  Greece  and 
Rome.  His  memory  was  natural- 
ly tenacious  ;  and  it  had  acquii*ed 
great  artificial  powers,  if  such  an 
expression  be  allowable,  by  usin^ 
no  notes,  w^hen  he  delivered  his 
sermons.  So  retentive,  indeedf 
were  his  £aiculties,  that,  till  a  few 
months  before  his  death,  he  could 
quote  long  passages  from  almost 
every  author  whose  work  he  had 


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340 


LIIE  01  BXVTLf  r. 


perused,  even  isrith  a  critical  exact- 
ness. Nor  were  liis  studies  con- 
fined to  the  writers  of  antiquity. 
He  was  equally  conversant  with 
English  literature,  and  with  the 
lanj^uages  and  productions  of  the 
learned  and  ingenious,  in  various 
parts  of  Europe.  But  this  is  not  a 
proper  place  to  enlarge  on  the  clas- 
sical erudition,  or  eminent  talents, 
of  Dr.  Salter.  We  could  not,'how- 
ever,  refrain  from  drawing  this  lit- 
tle sketch  of  his  character,  as,  in 
his  earlier  lifie,  he  had  been  ac- 
quainted with  Bentley,  and  cher- 
ished his  memory  with  fond  re-» 
spect.  He  preserved  many  anec- 
dotes of  that  great  critick,  wliich 
have  been  published  from  his  pa- 
pers,* and  are  now  incorporated 
into  this  account.  Those  who 
were  acquainted  with  Salter,  and 
know  how  to  estimate  the  value  of 
his  erudition,will  peruse  these  hon- 
orary lines  with  some  pleasure, 
which  may  perhaps  receive  aug- 
mentation, by  finding  his  name  re- 
corded in  the  life  of  his  favourite , 
Bentley. 

T'fcas  itSvtk,  EUEIF.  PUCBNISI. 

While  Dr.  Bentley's  reputation 
was  disseminated  through  the  con- 
tinent, by  his  critical  disquisitions, 
his  domestick  peace  was  disturbed 
by  a  dispute  with  the  members  of 
the  college  over  which  he  presi- 
ded. His  time  was  of  course  much 
engaged  by  the  active  part  which 
he  was  obliged  to  take  in  these 
disputes,  and  his  mind  must  have 
naturally  been  harassed  by  contin- 
tied  suspense.  His  classical  pur- 
suits, however,  were  not  remitted. 
In  1711  he  published  his  long  ex- 

«  See  the  life  of  Bentley.  In  the  BiograpUa 
BriUnniA,  %nd  the  note«  on  the  edition  of  the  Oir* 
f<;rtation*Df  PhaUili,  publKhed  by  the  learned  En- 
KHih  printer,  Bovryer.  1  he  f^di  recorded  in  this 
account  are  v^nr rally  deri%'ed  from  theft  fource*. 
The  mode  oiarrangcfnent  and  many  of  the  crlll- 
Ul  rcmafks  arc  original. 


pected  edition  of  Heracey  which 
he  dedicated  to  Harley,  Earl  of 
Oxford,  who  was  then  minister. 

The  opinions  of  the  learned  with 
respect  to  this  edition  are  various. 
Qy  some  it  was  extolled,  as  the 
greatest  work  that  had  appeared 
since  the  revival  of  letters,  and  by 
others  it  was  ridiculed,  and  treated 
with  contempt.  If  we  may  be  al- 
lowed to  give  our  sentiments  on 
this  subject,  for 

'  Who  ilull  Jeadt,  when  Doctors  diiagree/ 

we  must  confess,  we  think  that 
Bentley  has  received  too  much 
praise  for  his  corrections  of  Horace 
fi-om  one  party,  and  has  been  too 
much  condemned  by  the  other. 

Some  of  his  emendations  dis- 
play wonderful  acumen  and  criti- 
cal perspicuity,  and  some  of  the 
passages,  which  he  has  restored 
from  the  manuscript  copies,should 
certainly  be  admitted  in  all  future 
editions.  But  many  of  his  remarks 
are  more  eminent  for  ingenuity 
than  judgment.  It  should  likewise 
be  remembered,  that  in  his  own 
edition,  which  was  published  at 
Cambridge  in  quarto,  he  di^  not 
incorporate  the  most  daring  of  his 
corrections  into  the  text,  but  in- 
serted them  in  his  notes,  which  be 
placed  at  the  end  of  the  volume, 
and  that  he  always  inserts  at  the 
bottom  of  the  page  the  readings  of 
former  editors. 

The  dedication  to  the  Earl  of 
O^^ford  was  dated  from  Trinity 
College,  on  the  6th  of  the  Ides  of 
December,  which  was  the  birth* 
day  of  Horace.  It  is  a  lively,  in- 
genious composition.  The  former 
part  of  it  contains  an  address  to 
Horace,  with  a  comparison  be- 
tween his  Mccscnas,  in  the  court 
of  Augustus,  and  Ilarlcy,  whom  he 
styles  the  modem  Mecacnas.  The 
latter  part  consists  of  a  short  histo- 
ry of  the  earl's  immediate  ancestors. 


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LIVE  or   BEl^LKV. 


141 


I>v«  Bentley  originally  intended 
tp  hare  dedicated  his  edition  of 
Horace  to  the  Earl  of  Halifax,who 
l>ad  been  at  Trinity  College.  But 
as  the  iKork  was  delayed  until  the 
year  171 1,  when  the  ministry  was 
changed,  he  detennined  to  place 
it  under  tlie  patronage  of  the  Earl 
of  Oxford. 

At  the  accession  of  KingGeorge 
I.  he  was  told  that  this  dedication 
would  most  probably  hurt  his  in- 
terest. In  reply  he  said,  that  he 
should  share  the  £ate  of  Hare, 
Goochland  Sherlock.  These  three, 
however,  all  became  bishops,  while 
Bentley  died  Master  of  Trinity 
College. 

In  the  preface  he  informs  us, 
that  as  the  weighty  cares,  which 
had  devolved  upon  him,  for 
some  years,  by  his  situation  as 
master  of  a  college,  had  prevented 
i|  regular  application  to  any  serious 
study,  he  determined  to  devote  a 
part  of  his  leisure  hours  to  the  pub- 
lication of  some  entertaining  au- 
thor, lest  he  should  banish  entire- 
ly his  regard  for  the  muses,  and 
his  favourite  pursuits.  He  fixed 
upon  Horace,  because  he  was  an 
universal  fidvourite. 

In  his  notes  he  tells  us,  that  ex- 
planations of  passages,  which  rela- 
ted to  the  customs  or  to  the  histo- 
ry of  the  ancients,  form  no  part  of 
Ms  design.  His  intention  was  to 
correct  errours,  and  restore  genu- 
ine readings,  either  by  the  author- 
ity of  copies,  or  by  conjecture. 

In  his  notes  he  availed  himself 
of  the  printed  editions,  and  of  sev- 
eral manuscripts,  the  readings  of 
which  had  escaped  the  researches 
of  former  editors. 

Thp  orography,  in  his  edition 
of  Horace,  appears  afFectedt,  be- 

f  fa^i  for  VvlgMt,  Dhom  for  Dhmm, 
and  the  filural  accufativet  in  //  inftead  of 
«r»  when  the  gen.  plur.  ended  in  mot.  Com* 
fffi»9  Imfimt,  are  more  defenfible,  and  de- 


cause  it  is  unusual ;  but  as  it  i^ 
the  mode  of  spelling,  which  apr 
pears  by  medals  and  inscriptions 
to  have  been  used  in  the  time  of 
Augustus,  and  which  is  found  in 
the  most  ancient  copies  of  Horace, 
be  seems  rather  to  merit  praise 
than  censure  for  attempting  sucli 
a  revival. 

To  enter  into  a  critical  examin* 
ation  of  his  notes  would  far  exceed 
our  limits,  and  as  the  book  is  well 
known,  the  criticism  would  appear 
rather  ostentatious  than  necessary. 
The  following  emendation  we  can- 
not help  transcribing,  for  although 
Bentley  thought  it  too  bold  a  cor- 
rection for  him  to  '  admit  into  the 
text,  we  think  it  affoixls  a  happy 
specimen  of  ctitical  sagacity  : 

Ccffit  Inermlf  UbI  bUndknU 

Janitor  aula 
Cerberus  ;  quamTte  fitdale  ceotnoi 
Munlant  angues  caput,  exeatque 
Spiritut  teter,  fanlcfque  manct 

Ore  trilinguL 

So  Bentley  would  read  this  passage 
in  Horace's  Ode  to  Mercury,  III. 
XI.  In  common  editions  the  3d 
line  stands  thus  : 

Mnniant  angues  caput  ejus,  atqtie 
Spirltns,  &c. 

Dacier  observes,  that  the  word  rju9 
debases  the  whole  poem.  There 
is  a  passage  in  Ovid  of  the  same 
cast,  but  that  should  not  be  admit- 
ted as  a  defence  for  an  expression, 
so  mean  and  prosaick.  The  alte- 
ration may  be  defended  by  several 
similar  passages.  Among  his 
corrections  the  change  of  "  Hie  et 
nefa9to  tu  fiondt  die*'  into  <'  lilum 

fenre  to  be  adopted.  Thit  fubjeA  hai^ 
been  treated  with  great  ingenuity  by  thei 
elegant  Schdler,  in  hit  Fnuefta  JHti  bent 
Ckfromami ;  a  work  which  it  little  known 
in  thit  country*  but  merita  an  attenttye 
peruial  from  every  fcbolar.  Let  it  be 
remembered  that  the  learned  Heyne, 
oraw  hat  ufed  the  £une  orthography  in 
his  Virgil.  ' 


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S4S 


LIFE   OF   BRNTLKT. 


et  nr/aato"  &c.  is  likewise  very 
happy. 

He  has  explained  innumerable 
passages,  which  defied  former  edi- 
tors, and  drawn  forth  latent  beau- 
ties in  several  verses,  by  slight 
changes  in  the  punctuation,  equal- 
ly judicious  and  acute. 

Dr.  Pare  gave  the  following 
character  of  Bentley's  edition  of 
Horace  :  "  When  I  consider  how 
small  a  book  Horace  is,  how  much 
he  has  been  the  delight  and  admi- 
ration of  the  learned  at  all  times, 
what  pains  the  ablest  criiicks  have 
taken  with  him,  and  that  if  others 
have  done  nothing,  it  seems  to  be 
for  no  other  reason  but  that  they 
thought  there  was  nothing  left  for 
them  ;  when  I  make  these  reflec- 
tions, and  consider  on  the  other 
hand  what  one  man  has  been  able 
to  do,  after  so  many  great  names, 
who  had  the  use  of  no  manuscripts 
but  what  seemed  already  to  have 
been  exhausted,  and  wanted  many 
of  the  best,  it  is  hard  to  say,  wheth- 
er the  pleasure  or  the  admiration 
were  the  greater  with  which  I  read 
this  incomparable  work.  A  man 
must  have  vefy  little  acquaintance 
with  the  ancients,  or  have  no  taste 
for  their  writings,  who  can  forbear 
greatly  admiring,  or  being  greatly 
pleased  with  a  performance,where- 
in  exactness  and  perspicuity,  life, 
spirit,  beauty,  and  order  are  restor- 
ed to  so  many  places  which  were 
before  corrupted,  or  misplaced,  or 
obscured,  for  want  of  being  lightly 
read,  or  truly  understood :  for 
want  of  an  emendation  of  the  text, 
or  of  knowing  the  history  or  cus- 
tom pointed  at«  or  the  passages  of 
the  Greek  poets,  which  Homce 
directly  imitated,  or  the  more  se- 
cret allusions,  which  he  was  above 
all  the  Latins  happy  in." 

In  1713a  new  edition  of  Bent- 
ley's  Porape  ^v^  published  by  the 


Wetsteins,at  Amsterdam.  They 
procured  a  corrected  copy  from 
the  Doctor,  removed  the  notem 
from  the  end,*  and  placed  them 
under  the  text,  in  which  they  in- 
serted all  the  additional  corrections. 
They  likewise  added  the  vcrtol 
index  of  Horace,  which  Aveman 
had  compiled  with  great  labour  ; 
and  the  emendations  of  Bentley^ 
and  several  important  quotations 
incorporated  into  it  by  Isaac  Ver- 
burg,  who  was  afterwards  well 
known  as  the  editor  of  Cicero.  By 
these  judicious  improvements,  the 
Dutch  edition  is  rendered  far  su^ 
peiiour  to  that  pubUshed  at  Cam- 
bridge. 

It  was  the  fate  of  Bentley  to  be 
constantly  baited  by  hb  enemies^ 
who  were  more  numerous  than 
powerful.  The  first  literary  char- 
acter, perhaps,  of  this  age  remark- 
ed, that  "  Abuse  was  only  the  re- 
bound of  praise  *,"  and,  indeed,  it 
is  vain  to  censure  those  whom 
none  commend.  The  merit  of 
this  great  critick  routed  the  envy 
of  the  half  learned,  who  gave  full 
scope  to  their  malignity. 

In  1713  came  out  «*  The  Odes 
of  Horace,  in  Latin  an,d  English  ; 
with  a  translation  of  Dr.  Bentley's 
notes,  to  which  are  added  notrM 
upon  notes  ;  done  in  the  Bentleiao 
style  and  manner."  A  translatifm 
of  the  dedication,  preface,  epodes, 
and  life  of  Horace  by  Suetonius, 
were  afterwards  published  to  com- 
plete this  work,  which  appeared 
in  twenty-four  parts,  and  forma 
two  volumes. 

The  Odes  arc  translated  into 
English  verse  by  different  authorSf 
•  ••• 

«  The  Cttttom  of  placing  nottt  at  Uie  omI  •Ta 
work  bat  been  adopted  by  several  writer*,  mat 
surely  it  b  a  cuaUNn  **  mote  honoured  In  Uie 
breach,  than  the  obtcrvance."  We  ob«erve«  that 
the  celebrated  hittorlan.  Hi.  Gfcbon,  ha  Ivert- 
ed  the  notes  and  text  b  the  same  Mge,  in  Mi 
latter  volumes,  though  he  placed  UMsn  «t  nt 
cndot  tdefint. 


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THl   EKMARKBR. 


341 


ainl  in  some  of  them  there  is  poe- 
try and  elegance  in  the  version.  In 
the  notc9  u/ion  nates  there  is  a 
greater  display  of  wit  and  pleasan- 
try) than  of  criticism.  Bentley's 
remarks  are  abridged,  and  the  au- 
thorities which  he  has  cited  are 
sometimes  quoted  by  reference, 
and  sometimes  suppressed.  The 
language  of  the  translated  notes  b 
coarse  and  vulgar,  and  that  of  the 
notes  upon  notes  is  not  more  ele- 
gant. We  do  not  think  that  the 
authors  of  this  publication  were 
ever  discovered.  It  is  not,  indeed, 
of  much  consequence  who  they 
were,  as,  in  our  opinion,  they  have 


not  executed  the  design  which 
they  proposed  in  their  preface  with 
much  spirit  or  humour,  ^ome  of 
Bentley's  notes  are  arrogant,  and 
several  of  bis  corrections  are  haz- 
ardous, but  this  publication  does 
not  seem  calculated  either  by  its 
weight  or  ingenuity  to  expose  the 
critick's  haughtiness  or  boldness. 
The  title  of  BentrvogHo^  which  is 
assigned  to  the  Doctor  in  the  first 
of  these  notes,  was  borrowed  from 
the  Dialogues  of  the  Dead,  which 
King  wrote,  during  the  dispute 
about  Phalaris,  in  order  to  ridicule 
Bentlcy. 

(To  be  continued,) 


REMARKER. 

1  ignari  mall  mberii  niccurrcre  dbco. 


Ab.  11. 


The  pursuit  of  happiness  is  the 
grand  object  of  human  life,  which 
IS  generally  wasted  in  striving  to 
attain  a  phantom  that  is  not  found 
to  be  illusive,  till  it  is  too  late  to 
profit  by  the  discovery^  Each  in- 
dividual seems  happy  to  the  rest, 
because  he  who  cannot  deceive 
himself,  gratifies  his  vanity  by  de- 
ceiving the  rest  of  society.  The 
superficial  observer  mistakes  the 
affected  simper,the  heartless  laugh, 
lor  that  generous  cheerfulness  of 
temper,  and  gaiety  of  heart,  the 
rarest  gifts  of  heaven.  Many  of 
those  who  seem  to  join  the  out- 
ward pomp  to  the  inward  possess- 
ion of  happiness,  are  consuming 
fife  in  "  splendid  misery." 

Many  abandon  the  idea  of  being 
happy,  and  confine  their  ambition 
to  appearing  so  to  others.  Society 
seems  gay,  the  surface  is  decked 
in  the  gayest  colours ;  like  some 
of  those  mountains  whose  udes 
are  covered  with  verdure  and  flow- 
ers, but  beneath  the  exteriour  crust 
it  is  a  dreary,  confused  mixture  of 


warring  materials,  that  every  mo- 
ment menace  explosion  and  ruin. 

'That  nothing  should  be  want- 
ing to  facilitate  the  grand  pursuit, 
that  the  simple  and  unwary  should 
be  placed  on  their  guard,  rules  for 
the  attainment  of  happiness  have 
been  given  with  as  much  precision 
as  demonstrations  of  mathematical 
problems,  with  as  much  variety  as 
receipts  for  cooking,  and  as  much 
fashion  as  modes  of  dress.  Some 
strive  to  be  happy  by  rule,  and  are 
as  successful,  as  a  physician  who 
acts  only  on  theory.  Some  dread 
system,  and  are  the  sport  of  every 
accident. ;  they  are  driven  like  a 
&llen  leaf,  now  alofl  in  air,  now 
fluttering  in  the  dust,  till  the  fatal 
blast  immerses  them  in  the  pool 
of  oblivion.  Some  have  solaced 
their  own  discontents,  not  by  de- 
scribing what  are  the  means  of  at- 
taining happiness,  but  by  guarding 
the  heedless  against  some  of  the 
errours  that  occasion  failure  in  the 
pursuit.  Those  who  are  already 
far  advanced  in  the  journey  of  life, 


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fRfi  ilskARttt:^. 


hme  often  wjimcd  the  crowd  who 
at^  fbllowitig,  not  to  entertain  loo 
B&liguine  hopes  of  the  objects  oh 
the  way,  whkh  they  behold  in  the 
flattering  deceptions  of  perspec- 
tive, but  which  those  who  have 
pasted  look  back  upon  with  con- 
tempt and  disappointment. 

But  it  is  not  alone  to  an  exfrav- 
«<gant  appreciation  of  the  various 
amusements  and  employments  of 
life,  that  we  oWe  our  vexattions  and 
sufferings  ;  various  causes  com- 
bine to  produce  that  satiety  and 
Ascontent,  which,  if  concealed  by 
a  few,  is  felt  by  all. 

Among  these,  one  of  the  most 
common,  fruitful,  natural,  but  in- 
excusable, is  a  wrong  estimate  of 
the  character  of  our  friends.  In 
despite  of  experience,  we  are  con- 
stantly forming  calculations,  ^ich 
we  know  will  be  falsified.  We 
fret  to-day  for  what  vexed  us  yes- 
terday ;  and  our  feelings  have  been 
Wounded  in  the  very  same  man- 
lier they  have  been  a  thousand 
times  before.  Yet  we  shall  repeat 
to-morrow  the  same  faults,  and 
nourish  peevishness  and  mortifica- 
tion, because  we  still  calculate  up- 
on what  men  ought  to  be,  not  oii 
what  they  are. 

While  the  sinews  of  the  mind, 
as  well  as  those  of  the  body,  are 
yet  fiexible,  before  age  and  habit 
have  moulded  the  temper  of  the 
one,  or  the  carriage  of  the  other  ; 
it  is  laudable  to  inculcate  every 
generous  and  virtuous  precept,  to 
confer  every  exteriour  grace  aiid 
polish  that  will  make  the  possessor 
useful  and  beloved.  But  when  ed- 
ucation has  completed  her  tasky 
when  moraf  and  physical  habits 
are  formed,  and  the  characteristick 
tharks  are  so  strongly  impressed, 
that  time  will  only  stififen  and  coii- 
finn  them,  then  we  should  be  con- 
tented with  what  education  has  ac- 


compiidbed,  and  not  weakly  fepia^ 

that  it  hiis  rftchicved  no  mor^. 
After  the  character  has  once  ac* 
quired  its  tbne,  ahd  ititercour^ 
with  society  has  raised  or  depress- 
ed it  to  the  capacity  and  disposi- 
tion of  the  individual ;  the  attempt 
to  change  it  would  b^  no  less  ab- 
surd, than  to  see  tirose  whose  per- 
sAons  afe  stiffened  by  age,  attempt 
to  ac^joire,  from  the  skill  of  a 
dancing  ihaster,  the  flexible  move- 
ments and  graceful  positions  that 
can  only  be  attained  When  tlic 
limbs  are  pliable,  and  the  blood 
frolicks  in  the  veins. 

Should  every  one  feflfect^  whift 
a  large  portion  of  those  little  sor- 
foWs  and  vexations,  that  fritter  a- 
way  existence,  would  be  obviated 
by  expecting  no  more  from  those 
about  us,  than  wfiat  their  charac- 
ter authorizes,  he  would  endeavour 
to  correct  his  expectations,  and 
chastise  his  wishes.  Yet  I  hav^ 
known  persons,  who  for  thirty 
years  have  calculated  upon  quaC-  ^^^ 
ties  in  others,  which  the  experi* 
ence  of  the  same  period  had  too 
frequently  convinced  them  did  not 
exist,  and  were  perpetually  hoping 
for  opinions  and  actions,  which  a 
little  reflection  would  have  con- 
vinced them  they  had  no  right  to 
expect. 

Every  man  has  soraC^  virtues, 
no  one  but  who  has  many  &ults. 
It  would  be  infatuation  to  expect 
from  lulus  the  strength  of  Entel- 
ius.  Let  us  rejoice  then  in  the 
good  qualities  of'^  our  f riei^ds,;  and 
excuse  their  faults  ;  and  if  we 
strictly  guard  against  expectinf^ 
from  them  talents  and  feelings 
which  we  know  they  do  not  pos- 
sess, we  shall  dry  up  ohe  copious 
source  of  di^ppointment  a&d  vex- 
ation. 


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345 


TnaiUted  tv  tbc  Anthology  lirom  th«  Coun  de  Litenture  of  La  Htfpe. 

BRITANNICUS. 


GENIUS  is  brilliant  from  its 
birth.  A  splendour  is  cast  around 
it  by  its  firat  rays.  It  is  the  day- 
star,  which,  arising  from  the  brink 
of  the  horizon,  illuminates  by  the 
first  appearance  of  its  full  orb  the 
vhole  extent  of  the  heavens.  The 
eyes  of  men  are  dazzled,  and 
their  minds  humiliated  and  over- 
whelmed by  the  splendour  that  as- 
sails them.  Such  are  the  first  ef- 
fects of  genius  ;  but  this  sudden 
and  lively  impression  is,  by  de- 
frees,  softened  and  effaced.  Man, 
recovered  from  his  first  astonish- 
ment, looks  up,  and  dares  to  ob- 
serve with  a  fixed  attention  that 
which  at  fina  be  had  only  admired 
ia  confusion.  He  soon  becomes 
sccustomed  and  &miliarised  with 
the  object  of  his  respect,  and  is 
soon  disposed  to  search  for  faults 
and  defects  to  such  a  degree,  as 
even  to  invent  them.  It  seems  as 
if  he  wished  to  avenge  himself  for 
the  surprise  obtained  over  his  van- 
ity, and  genius  has  time  enough  to 
fmss,  in  expiating  by  a  long  course 
of  outrages,  that  moment  of  glory 
snd  triumph,  which  could  not  be 
Refused  it  by  that  humanity  which 
it  subdues  at  first  si^ht. 

Such  was  the  treatment  receiv- 
ed by  the  .author  of  Andromache. 
They  oppssed  him  at  first  to  Cor- 
neilie  ;  and  this  was  great  praise, 
if  we  recollect  the  admiration,  so 
just  and  so  profound,  which  must 
have  been  inspired  by  the  author 
of  the  Cid,  of  Cinns,  and  the  Ho- 
yices,  «mil  that  time  without  a 
rival,  master  of  the  field,  and  sur- 
rounded with  his  trophies.  The 
peipsonal  ^lemies  of  this  great  man 
saw,  no  doubt  with  pleasure,  a 
young  poet  arising,  who  promised 

Vol.  in.  No.  7.   ay 


to  divide  France,  and  share  in  her 
applause  ;  but  these  enemies  at 
that  time  were  few  in  number.  His 
old  age,  unfortunately  too  fruit- 
ful in  productions  unworthy  of 
him,  consoled  them  for  his  former 
successes.  On  the  contrary,  the 
superiority  of  Racine,  from  this 
moment  so  decisive  and  so  bril- 
liant, must  have  spread  terrour  a- 
mong  all  those  who  aspired  to  the 
palm  of  tragedy. 

It  is  easily  conceived,  how  much 
a  success  like  that  of  Andromache 
must  have  excited  the  jealousy  of 
all  who  aspired  to  glory  in  the 
same  career.  To  that  numerous 
party  of  inferiour  writers,  who, 
without  loving  one  another  and 
without  harmonizing  in  any  thing 
else,  always  combine  as  it  were  by 
instinct  against  talents  that  threat- 
en them,  were  united  that  species 
of  men,  who,  transported  by  an  ex- 
clusive enthusiam,  had  declared 
that  Comeille  never  would  be  e- 
qualled,  and  who  were  determined 
that  Racine  should  not  dare  to  give 
them  the  lie.  Add  to  all  these  in- 
terests against  him  that  secret 
disposition  which,  in  its  foundation, 
is  not  wholly  unjust,  and  which  in- 
clines us  to  proportion  the  severity 
of  our  judgments  to  the  merit  of 
the  man  who  is  to  be  judged. 
Such  were  the  obstacles  which  op- 
posed Racine  after  Andromache 
appeared,  and  when  Britannicus 
was  presented,  envy  was  under 
arras. 

Envy,  that  passion  so  odious  and 
so  vile  that  it  is  never  pitied  mis- 
erable as  it  is,  never  breaks  out 
with  more  fury  than  in  the  conteu* 
tions  of  the  theatre.  It  is  there 
that  it  encounters  talents  in  all  tho 


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RACINE  S    BRITA1IVICU9. 


splendour  of  its  powers.  It  k 
there  that  it  loves  to  combat  emi- 
nence ;  it  is  there  that  it  attacks 
it  with  so  much  the  greater  advan- 
tage, that  it  can  conceal  the  hand 
that  strikes  the  blow.  Confounded 
iff  a  tumultuous  crowd,  it  is  not 
obliged  to  blush.  It  has  moreover 
80  little  to  do,  and  the  theatrical 
enthusiasm  is  so  feeble  and  so  ea- 
sily disturbed,  the  judgments  of 
men  there  assembled  are  depen^ 
dent  on  so  many  circumstances^ 
over  which  the  author  has  no  con- 
trol, and  are  decided  by  motives 
sometimes  so  trifling  that,  when- 
ever a  party  has  been  formed  a- 
gainst  a  good  dramatick  work,  the 
success  of  it  has  been  impeded  or 
retarded.  Examples  are  not  want- 
ing ;  but  if  I  had  only  that  of 
Britannicus,  abandoned  in  its  first 
representation,  would  not  this  be 
sufficient  ? 

We  see  by  the  preface  which 
the  author  placed  at  the  head  of 
the  first  edition  of  his  piece,  that 
he  warmly  resented  this  injustice. 
It  is  but  too  customary  to  allege 
this  kind  of  sensibility,  as  a  crime 
in  men  of  talents,  although  there 
is  none  perhaps  more  excusable, 
or  more  natural.  No  doubt  there 
would  be  much  philosophy  in  de- 
taching ourselves  entii-cly  from 
our  works  the  moment  we  have 
composed  them  ;  but  I  demand 
of  those,  who  know  a  little  of  the 
human  heart,  how  this  cold  indif- 
ference can  be  compatible  with 
that  divinity  of  imagination,  which 
is  necessary  to  produce  a  good 
tragedy  ?  To  reqiiire  tilings  so 
contrary  is  to  be  as  reasonable  as 
the  woman  in  La  Fontaine,  who 
wanted  a  husband  neither  cold  nor 
jealous.  The  fabulist  judiciously 
adds,  <<  Mark  Well  these  two 
points." 

I  know  the  vulgar  objection,that 
an  author  cannot  judge  himself. 
No,  to  be  ture^  not  when  a  work 


comes  first  out  of  his  hands  ;  and 
indeed  at  no  other  time,  if  he  is 
but  an  ordinary  man :  ifn  this  case  he 
is  no  more  capable  of  judging,than 
of  writing  well  :  he  sees  no  excel- 
lence beyond  what  he  has  reached. 
But  experience  proves,  that,  after 
the  moment  of  composition,  a  man 
of  superiour  talents  and  information 
can  judge  himself,  as  well  and  even 
better  than  any  other.  I  shall 
produce  very  striking  proofs  of 
this,  when  I  come  to  speak  of  Vol- 
taire. At  pi'esent  all  that  I  require 
is,  that  we  pardon  Racine  for  hav- 
ing had  reason  to  be  angry,  when 
his  judges  were  in  the  wrong  to 
condemn  him. 

The  publick  soon  recovered 
from  its  errour  ;  Britannicus  re- 
mained in  possession  of  the  stage  ; 
and  Racine,  in  an  edition  of  his 
collected  works,  suppressed  his 
first  preface.  We  readily  pardon 
injustice,  when  it  is  repaired.  He 
had  not  however  forgotten  it  :  this 
is  manifest  from  the  manner,  in 
which  he  expresses  himself  con- 
cerning the  fortune  of  this  trag- 
edy. "  You  sec  here,  of  all  my 
pieces,  that  on  which,  I  can  truly 
say,  I  have  laboui^d  with  the 
greatest  care.  Nevertheless  I 
acknowledge,  that  the  success  of 
it  at  first  was  not  answerable  to  my 
hopes.  It  had  scarcely  appeared 
upon  the  stage,  when  there  arose 
a  host  of  criticks,  who  threatened 
its  destruction.  I  thought  indeed 
that  its  destiny  would  be  less  hap- 
py, than  that  of  my  other  trage- 
dies ;  but  finally  it  happened  to 
this  piece,  as  it  will  always  to 
works  that  have  some  merit....the 
criticks  have  disappeared,  and  the 
piece  remains.  It  is  at  this  time, 
of  all  my  productions,  that  which 
the  court  and  the  city  see  repeat- 
ed with  the  most  satisfaction  ;  and 
if  I  have  done  any  thing  which  has 
any  solidity,  and  which  merits  any 
praise,  the  greatest  part  of  the  bes 


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HACINZ'S   BRITANNICU9. 


ur 


Sdges  agree  in  opinion  tliis  it  is, 
is  sapie  Biitannicus."  Vol- 
taire, too,  seems  to  be  of  this  opin- 
ion. He  has  somewhere  said, 
"  Britannicus  is  the  tragedy  of  the 
connoisseurs."  Nevertheless  he 
esteemed  Athaliah  before  it  for  the 
merit  of  invention  and  the  sublim- 
ity of  the  style,  and  Andromache 
and  Iphigenia  for  theatrical  effect. 
But,  it  will  be  said,  if  this  effect  is 
the  first  object  of  the  art,  how  can 
there  be  any  thing  that  the  con- 
noisseurs prefer  ?  I  answer,  noth- 
ing surely,  when  to  this  effect  are 
united  the  other  sorts  of  beauties, 
which  the  same  art  admits,  as  in 
Iphigenia  and  Andromache.  But 
these  connoisseurs  distinguish 
that  in  a  work,  which  the  nature 
of  the  subject  affords  to  the  author, 
from  that,  which  he  can  owe  only 
to  himself.  We  have  pieces  upoo 
the  stage  which  draw  many  tears 
from  the  audience,  which,  never- 
theless, have  not  procured  any 
great  reputation  to  their  authors  ; 
for  example,  Ariane  and  Ines. 
Why  ?  It  is  because,  with  much 
interest,  they  fedl  in  many  other 
qualities,  which  constitute  dramat- 
ical perfection  ;  and  the  feebleness 
of  other  productions  of  the  same 
authors  have  shown,  that  a  man  of 
ordinary  talents,  in  treating  of  cer- 
tain situations,  more  easy  to  man- 
age than  others,  and  more  natural- 
ly interesting,  may  obtain  success ; 
whereas  there  are  other  subjects, 
in  which  the  author  cannot  support 
himself,  but  by  the  most  exalted 
abilities  in  all  parts  of  tlie  art,  and 
by  beauties,  which  belong  only  to 
the  greatest  talents  :  and  of  this 
kind  is  Britannicus. 

The  circumstance  which  excites 
pity  in  this  piece  is  the  mutual 
love  of  Britannicus  and  Junia,  and 
the  death  of  the  young  prince; 
but  love  is  here  much  less  tragi- 
c^,  and  has  an  effect  much  less 


sensible,  than  in  Andromache. 
Nevertheless  the  union  of  the  two 
lovers  is  traversed  by  the  jealousy 
of  Nero  ;  the  life  of  the  prince  is 
threatened,  as  soon  as  the  charac- 
ter of  the  tyrant  is  developed,  and 
his  death  is  the  catasttx>phe,  which 
terminates  the  piece.  What  is 
the  reason,  then,  that  love  produ- 
ces here  impressions  much  less 
lively,  than  in  Andromache  ?  If 
we  search  for  the  reason  of  this, 
we  shall  find,  that  the  study  of 
tragedy  is  at  the  same  time  the  study 
of  the  heart.  I  have  remarked,  at 
the  theatre,  that  love,  combatted 
by  foreign  obstacles,  however  in- 
teresting it  may  be  even  in  that 
case,  is  never  so  much  so,  as  it  is 
by  the  torments  which  arise  from 
itself ;  and  afterwards  comparing 
the  theatre  with  nature,  of  which 
it  is  the  image,  I  have  been  con- 
vinced that  this  relation  is  ^exact, 
and  that  the  greatest  evils  of  love 
are  not  commonly  those,  which 
happen  to  it  from  abroad,  but  those 
which  it  makes  for  itself.  Noth- 
ing is  so  much  to  be  dreaded  by 
lovers  as  their  own  heart.  Diffi- 
culties, dangers,  absence,  separa- 
tion, nothmg  bears  any  compar- 
ison with  the  torments  of  jealousy^ 
the  suspicion  of  infidelity,  the  hor- 
rours  of  treachery.  I  shall  have 
occasion  to  apply  and  to  investi- 
gate this  principle,  when  I  come 
to  examine^  why  Zaire  and  Tan- 
crede  are  the  two  pieces,  in  which 
love  is  the  most  distressing,  and 
cause  our  tears  to  flow  in  the  gi*eat- 
est  abundance  and  the  most  bit- 
terness. 

Junia  and  Britannicus  are  two 
very  young  persons,  who  love  each 
other  with  all  the  sincerity,  good 
&ith,  and  candour  of  their  age. 
A  painting  of  their  love  could  of- 
fer nothing  but  the  softest  touches. 
Their  passions  are  as  ingenuous 
as   their   characteiii.     They  arc 


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u^ 


•0LD8MITR  Aim   1011X909. 


sore  of  each  other,  and  if  the  arti- 
fice of  Nero  causes  to  Britannicus 
one  moment  of  inquietude,  it  can- 
not excite  him  to  an 7  desp>eration, 
and  one  moment  afterwards  he  b 
reassured.  This  love  therefore 
has  nothing  in  it  to  take  a  strong 
possessioh  of  the  souls  of  the  spec- 
tators, which  we  cannot  entirely 
command  but  by  strwig  and  mul- 
tiplied shocks.  The  death  of  Bri- 
tannicus, therefore,  related  in  the 
fifth  act,  in  the  presence  of  Junia, 
produces  more  of  horrour  for  Ne- 
ro, than  of  compassion  for  her  ; 
her  love  has  not  occupied  place 
enough  in  the  piece  for  the  catas- 
trophe to  make  a  very  lively  im- 
pression. The  soft  and  feeble 
character  of  Junia  excites  no  ap- 
prehensions of  any  terrible,  and 
the  resolution  she  takes  to  place 
herself  in  the  number  of  the  vestal 
virgins,  tho'  conformable  enough 
to  the  manners  and  decorum  of  the 
«ge,  is  not  a  very  tragical,  event. 
This  fifth  act  is  therefore  the  fee- 
ble part  of  the  work,  and  it  is  that 
which  gave  the  greatest  advantage 
to  the  enemies  of  Racine.  But 
they  closed  their  eyes  to  the  beau- 
ties of  the  fi)ur  former  acts  ;  beau- 
ties of  such  excellence,  that  for  a 
century  they  seem  to   have  been 


every  day  more  sensibly  felt,  alid 
to  have  excited  increasing  admira« 
tion.  The  enemies  of  the  authori 
to  console  themselves  under  the 
success  of  Andromache)  had  said, 
that  it  was  true,  he  understood  how 
to  treat  of  love  ;  but  that  this  was 
all  his  talent ;  that  he  would  never 
be  able  to  design  characters  with 
the  vigour  of  Comeiile,  nor  to 
treat  like  him  of  the  policy  of 
courts.  Such  is  the  course  of  prej- 
udice :  they  take  revenge,  for  the 
talents  which  they  cannot  refuse 
to  a  writer,  by  refusing  him  those 
which  he  has  not  yet  attempted  to 
employ.  Burrhus,  Agrippina, 
Narcissus,  and  above  all  Nero» 
were  a  terrible  answer  to  these  un- 
just prepossessions.  But  this  an- 
swer was  not  at  first  understood. 
The  merit  of  a  piece,  which  uni- 
ted the  art  of  Tacitus  with  that  of 
Virgil,  escaped  the  observation  of 
the  greatest  number  of  spectators. 
The  word  politicks  is  not  once 
pronounced  ;  but  the  policy  which 
reigns  in  courts,  more  or  less  in 
proportion  as  they  are  more  or  lesi 
corrupted,  has  never  been  painted 
in  characters  so  true,  so  profound) 
and  so  energetick,  and  the  colours 
are  worthy  of  the  design. 
T9  be  continued. 


GOLDSMITH  AND  JOHNSON. 

The  fbllonHog  fa  a«  extraft  from  the  **  Memoirs  of  Richard  Cumberland,  litltteii  hj  himftU;'*  n 
very  InterriUDg  work,  wkkh  haa  jnli  jippeaicd  from  the  preft  of  Mcflra.  Brin>aa  &  Braaaan,  of 
New  York. 


At  this  time  I  did  not  know 
Oliver  Goldsmith  even  by  person  ; 
I  think  our  first  meeting  chanced 
to  be  at  the  British-Coffee-House  ; 
when  we  came  together,  we  very 
speedily  coalesced,  and  I  believe 
he  forgave  me  for  all  the  little 
fame  I  had  got  by  the  success  of 
my  West-Indiart,  which  had  put 
him  to  some  trouble,  for  it  was 
not  his  nature  to  be  unkind)  and  I 


had  soon  an  opportunity  of  con- 
vincing him  how  incapable  1  waft 
of  harbouring  resentment)  and 
how  zealously  I  took  my  share  in 
what  concerned  his  interest  andT 
reputation.  That  he  was  fiintas- 
tically  and  whimsically  vain  all  the 
world  knows,  but  there  was  no 
settled  and  inherent  malice  in  his 
heart.  He  was  tenacious  to  a  ri- 
diculous extreme  of  certain  pre- 


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GOLDSMITH    AMD   lOHNlOIT. 


S49 


tfenMonSf  that  did  not,  and  by  na- 
ture could  not)  belong  to  him,  and 
at  ^c  sanietifneinexcusabiy  care- 
less of  the  fame,  M^hich  he  had 
powers  to  command.  His  table- 
talk  waS)  as  Garrick  aptly  compar- 
ed it,  Hke  that  of  a  parrot,  whilst 
^  wrote  like  Apollo  ;  he  had 
fleams  of  eloquence,  and  at  times 
a  majesty  of  thought,  but  in  gene- 
ral his  to^igue  and  his  pen  had 
two  very  difl'erent  styles  of  talking. 
What  foibles  he  had  he  took  no 
pains  to  conceal,  the  good  qualities 
of  his  heart  were  too  frequently 
obscured  by  the  carelessness  of 
his  conduct,  and  the  frivolity  of  his 
manners.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 
was  rery  good  to  him,  and  would 
have  drilled  him  into  better  trim 
and  order  ft>r  society,  if  he  would 
have  been  amenable,  for  Reynolds 
was  a  perfect  gentleman,  had  good 
»  tense,  great  propriety  with  all  the 
social  atti4butes,  and  all  the  graces 
of  hospitality,  equal  to  any  man. 
He  well  knew  how  to  appreciate 
nen  of  talents,  and  how  near  a-kin 
the  Muse  of  poetry  was  to  that 
art,  of  which  he  was  so  eminent  a 
master.  From  Goldsmith  he 
caught  the  subject  of  his  famous 
Ugolino  ;  what  aids  he  got  from 
others,  if  he  got  any,  were  worthi- 
t  ly  bestowed  and  happily  applied. 
There  is  something  in  Gold- 
smith** prose,  that  to  my  ear  is 
QDCominonly  sweet  and  harmoni- 
ous ;  it  is  clear,  simple,  easy  to  be 
understood ;  we  never  want  to 
read  his  period  twice  over,  except 
ibr  the  pleasure  it  bestows  ;  ob- 
scurity never  calls  us  back  to  a  re- 
petition of  it.  That  he  was  a  poet 
there  is  no  doubt,  but  the  paucity 
of  his  verses  does  not  allow  us  to 
rank  him  in  that  high  station, 
where  his  genius  might  have  car- 
ried him.  There  must  be  bulk, 
variety,  and  grandeur  of  design  to 
constitute  a  first-rate  poet.     The 


Deserted  Village,  TraTcUer,  and 
Hermit  are  all  specimens  beauti* 
ful  as  such,  but  they  are  only  binds 
eggs  on  a  string,  and  eggs  of  small 
binds  too.  One  great  magnificent 
toJiole  must  be  accomplished  before 
we  can  pronounce  upon  the  maker 
to  be  the  «  iriitrn.  Pope  himself 
never  earned  thb  title  by  a  work 
of  any  magnitude  but  his  Homer, 
and  that,  being  a  translation,  only 
constitutes  him  an  accomplished 
versifier.  Distress  drove  Gold- 
smith upon  undertakings,  neither 
congenial  with  his  studies,  nor 
worthy  of  his  talents.  I  remem" 
ber  him,  when  in  his  chamber  in 
the  Temple,  he  shewed  me  th« 
beginning  of  his  Animated  JVature) 
it  was  with  a  sigh,  such  as  genius 
draws,  when  hard  necessity  diverts 
it  from  its  bent  to  drudge  for 
bread,  and  talk  of  birds  and  beasts 
and  creeping  things,  which  Pid- 
cock's  show-man  would  have  done 
as  well.  Poor  felk>w,  he  hardly 
knew  an  ass  from  a  mule,  nor  a 
turkey  from  a  goose,  but  when  he 
saw  it  on  the  table.  But  publish'^ 
ers  hate  poetry,  and  Paternoster* 
Row  is  not  Paniassus.  Even  the 
mighty  Doctor  Hill,  who  was  not 
a  very  delicate  feeder,  could  not 
make  a  dinner  out  of  the  press  till 
by  a  happy  transformation  into 
Hannah  Glass,  he  turned  himself 
into  a  cook,  and  sold  receipts  for 
made  dishes  to  all  the  savoury 
readers  in  the  kingdom.  Then 
indeed  the  press  acknowledged 
him  seccmd  in  fame  only  to  John 
Bunyan  ;  his  feasts  kept  pace  in 
sale  with  Nelson's  fasts,  and  when 
his  own  name  was  fairly  written 
out  of  credit,  he  wrote  himself 
into  immortality  under  an  alias. 
Now  though  necessity,  or  I  should 
rather  say  the  desire  of  finding 
money  for  a  masquerade,  drove 
Oliver  Goldsmith  upon  abridging 
histories,  and  turning  Bufibn  into 


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350 


GOLDSMITH   AND  J0BV80N. 


English,  yet  I  much  doubt  if,  with*- 
out  that  spur,  he  would  ever  have 
put  his  Pegasus  into  action  ;  no, 
if  he  had  been  rich,  the  world 
would  have  been  poorer  than  it  is 
by  the  loss  of  all  the  treasures  of 
his  genius  and  the  cbntributiox^s 
of  his  pen. 

Who  will  say  that  Johnson  him- 
self would  have  been  such  a  cham- 
pion in  literature,  such  a  front- 
rank  soldier  in  the  fields  of  fame, 
if  he  had  not  been  pressed  into  the 
service,  and  driven  on  to  glory 
with  the  bayonet  of  sharp  neces- 
sity pointed  at  his  back  ?  If  for- 
tune had  turned  him  into  a  field 
of  clover,  he  would  have  laid 
down  and  rolled  in  it.  The  mere 
manual  labour  of  writing  would 
not  have  allowed  his  lassitude  and 
love  of  ease  to  have  taken  the  pen 
out  of  the  inkhom,  unless  the 
cravings  of  hunger  had  >  reminded 
him  that  he  must  fill  the  sheet  be- 
fore he  saw  the  table-cloth.  He 
might  indeed  have  knocked  down 
Osboume  for  a  blockhead,  but  he 
would  not  have  knocked  him  down 
with  a  folio  of  his  own  writing. 
He  would  perhaps  have  been  the 
dictator  of  a  club,  and  wherever 
he  sate  down  to  conversation,  there 
must  have  been  that  splash  of 
strong,  bold  thought  about  him, 
that  we  might  still  have  had  a  col- 
lectanea after  his  death  ;  but  of 
prose  I  guess  not  much,  of  works 
of  labour  none,  of  fancy  perhaps 
something  more,  especially  of  po- 
etry, which  under  favour  I  con- 
ceive was  not  his  tower  of  strength. 
I  think  we  should  have  had  his 
Rasselas  at  all  events,  for  he  was 
likely  enough  to  have  written  at 
Voltaire,  and  brought  the  question 
to  the  test,  if  infidelity  is  any  aid 
to  wit.  An  orator  he  must  have 
been  ;  not  improbably  a  parlia- 
mentarian, ^d,  if  such,  certainly 


an  oppositionist,  for  he  preferred 
to  talk  against  the  tide.  He  would 
indubitably  have  been  no  member 
of  the  Whig  Club,  no  partisan  of 
Wilkes,  no  friend  of  Hume,  no 
believer  in  Macpherson  i  he  would 
have  put  up  prayers  for  early  lis- 
ing,  and  laid  in  bed  all  day,  and 
with  the  most  active  resolutions 
possible  been  the  most  indolent 
mortal  living.  He  was  a  good 
man  by  nature,  a  great  man  by 
genius  ;  we  are  now  to  inquire 
what  he  was  by  compulsion. 

Johnson's  first  style  was  natu- 
rally energetick,  his  middle  style 
was  turgid  to  a  &ult,  his  latter 
style  was  softened  down  and  har- 
monized into  periods,  more  tune- 
ful and  more  intelligible.  His  ex- 
ecution was  rapid,  yet  hb  mind 
was  not  easily  provoked  into  ex- 
ertion ;  the  variety  we  find  in  his 
writings  was  not  the  variety  of 
choice  arising  from  the  impulse 
of  his  proper  genius,  but  tasks  im- 
posed upon  him  by  the  dealers  in 
ink,  and  contracts  on  his  part  sub- 
mitted to  in  satisfaction  of  the 
pressing  calls  of  hungry  want ; 
for,  painful  as  it  is  to  relate,  I  have 
heard  that  illustrious  scholar  as- 
sert (and  he  never  varied  from  the 
truth  of  fact)  that  be  subsisted 
himself  for  a  considerable  space 
of  time  upon  the  scanty  pittance 
of  four-pence  half-penny  per  day. 
How  melancholy  to  reflect  that  his 
vast  trunk  and  stimulating  appe- 
tite were  to  be  supported  by  what 
will  barely  feed  the  weaned  in* 
fant  !  Less,  much  less,  than  mas- 
ter Betty  has  earned  in  one  night, 
would  have  cheered  th^  mighty 
mind,  and  maintained  the  atblet- 
ick  body  of  Samuel  Johnson  in 
comfort  and  abundance  for  a 
twelvemonth.  Alas  !  I  am  not 
fit  to  to  paint  his  character  :  nor 
is  there  need  of  it ;  Etiam  morttms 
loquitur  i  flvery  man,  who  can 


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•0LD9MITH  AMD  JOHNSON. 


351 


buy  a  book,  has  bought  a  JBonvell  ; 
JohDson  is  known  to  all  the  read- 
ing world.  I  also  knew  him  well, 
respected  him  highly,  loved  him 
sincerely :  it  was  never  my  chance 
to  see  him  in  those  moments  of 
moroseness  and  ill  humour,  which 
are  imputed  to  him,  perhaps  with 
truth,  for  who  would  slander  him  ? 
But  I  am  not  warranted  by  any  ex- 
perience of  those  humours  to  speak 
of  him  otherwise  than  of  a  friend, 
who  always  met  me  with  kindness, 
and  from  whom  I  never  separated 
without  regret.  When  I  sought 
his  company  he  had  no  capricious 
excuses  for  withholding  it,  but 
lent  himself  to  every  invitation 
with  cordiality,  and  brought  good 
humour  with  him,  that  gave  life 
to  the  circle  he  was  in.  He  pre- 
sented himself  always  in  his  fash- 
ion of  apparel  ;  a  brown  coat  with 
metal  buttons,  black  waistcoat  and 
worsted  stockings,  with  a  flowing 
bob  wig,  was  the  style  of  his 
wardrobe,  but  they  were  in  per- 
fectly good  trim,  and  with  the  la- 
dies, which  he  generally  met,  he 
had  nothing  of  the  slovenly  phi- 
losopher about  him  ;  he  fed  hear- 
tily, but  not  voraciously,  and  was 
extremely  courteous  in  his  com- 
mendations of  any  dish  that  pleas- 
ed his  palate ;  he  suffered  his 
next  neighbour  to  squeeze  the 
China  oranges  into  his  wine  glass 
af^r  dinner,  which  else  perchance 
had  gone  aside,  and  trickled  into 
his  shoes,  for  the  good  man  had 
neither  straight  sight  nor  steady 
nerves.. 

At  the  tea-table  he  had  consid- 
erable demands  upon  his  favourite 
beverage,  and  I  remember  when 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  at  my  house, 
reminded  him  that  he  had  drank 
eleven  cups,  he  replied — ^^  Sir,  I 
did  not  count  your  glasses  of  wine, 
why  should  you  number  up  my 
cups  of  tea  ?"  And  then  laughing 


in  perfect  good  humour,  he  added 
— ^  Sir,  I  should  have  released  the 
lady  from  any  further  trouble,  if 
it  had  not  been  for  your  remark  ; 
but  you  have  reminded  me  that  I 
want  one  of  the  dozen,  and  I  must 
request  Mrs.  Cumberland  to  round 
up  my  number — "  When  he 
saw  the  readiness  and  complacen- 
cy, with  which  my  wife  obeyed 
his  call,  he  turned  a  kind  and 
cheerful  look  upon  her,  and  said— - 
"  Madam,  I  must  tell  you. for  your 
comfort,  you  have  escaped  much 
better  than  a  certain  lady  did  a- 
while  ago,  upon  whose  patience  I 
intruded  greatly,  more  than  I  have 
done  on  yours  ;  but  the  lady  ask- 
ed me  for  no  other  purpose  but 
to  muke  a  Zany  of  me,  and  set  me 
g&bblLng  to  a  parcel  of  people  I 
knew  nothing  of ;  so,  madam,  I 
had  my  revenge  of  her  z  for  I 
swallowed  Ave  and  twenty  cups  of 
her  tea,  and  did  not  treat  her  with 
as  ^^lany  words—"  I  can  only 
say  jay  wife  would  have  made  tea 
for  him  as  long  as  the  New  River 
could  have  supplied  her  with  water. 
It  was  on  such  occasions  he  was 
to  be  seen  in  his  happiest  mo- 
ments, when  animated  by  the 
cheering  attention  of  friends  whom 
he  liked,  he  would  give  full  scope 
to  those  talents  for  narration,  in 
which  I  verily  think  he  was  unri- 
valled, both  in  the  brilliancy  of  his 
wit,  the  flow  of  his  humour,  and 
the  energy  of  his  language.  An- 
ecdotes of  times  past,  scenes  of 
his  own  life,  and  characters  of  hu- 
mourists, enthusiasts,  craCk-brain- 
ed  projectors,  and  a  variety  of 
strange  beings,  that  he  had  chan- 
ced upon,  when,  detailed  by  him 
at  length,  and  garnished  with  those 
episodical  \  remarks,  sometimes 
comick,  sometimes  grave,  which 
he  would  throw  in  with  inflnite 
fertility  of  fancy,  were  a  treat, 
'Whiqh,  though  not  always  to  be 


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m 


QOtOSXITH    AKD   JOflKSCHIl 


purchased  by  fire  and  twenty  cupa 
of  tca^  I  have  often  had  the  happU 
nes8  to  enjoy  lor  less  than  half  the 
number.  He  was  easily  led  into 
lopicks  ;  it  was  not  easy  to  turn 
him  from  them  ;  but  who  would 
wish  it  ?  If  a  man  wanted  to  shew 
himself  off,  by  getting  up  and  rid- 
ing upon  him»  be  was  sure  to  run 
restive  and  kick  him  off:  you 
might  as  safely  have  backed  Buce- 
phahis,  before  Alexander  had  lun- 
ged him.  Neither  did  he  always 
like  to  be  over-fondled  ;  when  a 
certain  gentleman  out-acted  his 
part  in  this  way,  he  is  said  to  have 
domanded  of  him— ^^  What  pro- 
vokes your  risibility,  Sir  ?  Have 
I  said  any  thing  that  you  under- 
stand ?->^Then  I  ask  pardon  of  the 
rest  of  the  company—"  But  this 
is  Henderson's  anecdote  of  him, 
and  I  won't  swear  he  did  not  make 
it  himself.  The  following  apology, 
however,  I  myself  drew  from  him^ 
when  speaking  of  his  tour,  I  observ- 
ed to  him  upon  some  passages  as 
rather  too  sharp  upon  a  countiy 
and  people,  who  had  entertained 
kim  so  handsomely—^'  Do  you 
Ihink  so,  Cumbey  ("  he  repUed, 
«  Then  I  give  you  leave  to  say,  and 
you  may  quote  me  for  it,  that  there 
are  more  gentlemen  in  Scotland 
than  there  are  shoes." 


Oliver  Goldsmith  began  at  this 
lime  to  write  for  the  stage,  and  it 
is  to  be  lamented  that  he  did  not 
begin  at  an  earlier  period  of  life  to 
turn  his  genius  to  dramatick  com- 
positions, and  much  more  to  be 
lamented,  that,  after  he  had  begun, 
the  succeeding  period  of  hk  lifo 
was  so  soon  cut  off.  There  is  no 
doubt  but  his  genius,  when  more 
fitmilianaed  to  the  business^  would 
have  inspired  him  to  accomplish 
great  things.  His  first  comedy  of 
The  Good'juuuwffd  Jftn  was  read 


and  appbuded  in  its  manuscript  b^ 
Edmund  Burke,  and  the  circle  m 
which  he  then  lived  and  moved  2 
under  such  patronage  it  came  with 
those  ttstinKMiia)s  to  the  director 
of  Covcnt  Garden  theatre,  as  could 
not  fail  to  open  all  the  avenues  to 
the  stage,  and  bespeak  all  the  fa- 
vour and  attention  from  the  per- 
formers and  the  publick,  that  the 
applauding  voice  of  hinh  whose 
applause    was  fame  itself,  could 
give  it.    This  comedy  has  enough 
to  justify  the  good  opinion  of  its 
literary  patron,  and  secure  its  au- 
thor against  any  loss  of  reputation, 
for  it  has  the  stamp  of  a  man  of 
talents  upon   it,  though  its  pc^ni- 
larity  with  the  audience  did  not 
quite  keep  pace  with  the  expecta- 
tions, that  were  grounded  on  the 
fiat  it  had  antecedently  been  hon- 
oured with.     It  was  a  first  effort 
however,  and  did  not  discourage 
its  ingenious  author  from  invok- 
ing his  Muse  a  second  time.     It 
was  now,  whilst  his  labours  were 
in  projection,  that  I  first  met  him 
at  the  British  Coffee-house,  as  I 
have    already    related    somewhat 
out  of  place.     He  dined  with  us  as 
a  visitor,  introduced  as  I  think  by 
sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  and  we  held 
a  consultation    upon  the  naming 
of  his  comedy,  which  some  of  the 
company  had  read,  and  which  he 
detailed  to  the  rest  after  his  man- 
ner with  a  great  deal  of  good  hu- 
mour.      Somebody    suggeste<t— 
She  8to6p9  to   Cwt^trer— and  that 
title  was  agreed  upon.     When  f 
perceived    an    embarrassment  in 
his  manner  towards  me,  which  I 
could  readily  account  for,  I  lost  no 
time  to  put  him  at  his  ease,  and  I 
flatter    mysekf  I  was  successful. 
As  my  heart  was   ever  warm  to- 
wards my  contemporaries,  I  did 
not  counterfeit,   but  really  felt  a 
cordial  interest  in  his  behalf,  and  I 
had  aoon  the  pleasure  to  perceive 


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OOLDSMITH   AND   JOtiNSOlT. 


35 


that  he  credited  me  for  1117  fan" 
tcrity— ^«  You  and  I,"  said  he, 
*»have  very  different  motives  for 
resorting;  to  the  stage.  I  write 
for  money,  and  care  little  about 
feme — .'*  I  was  touched  by  this 
melancholy  confession,  and  from 
that  moment  busied  myself  assi- 
duously amongst  all  my  connex- 
ions in  his  cause.  The  whole 
company  pledged  themselves  to 
the  support  of  the  ingenuous  poet, 
and  f^thfuUy  kept  their  promise 
to  him.  In  fact  he  needed  all 
that  could  be  done  for  him,  as  Mr. 
Colman,  then  manager  of  Covent 
Garden  theatre,  protested  against 
the  comedy,  when  as  yet  he  had 
not  struck  upon  a  name  for.  it. 
Johnson  at  length  stood  forth  in 
all  his  terrours  as  champion  for  the 
piece,  and  backed  by  us  his  clients 
and  retainers  demanded  a  fair 
trial.  Colman  again  protested, 
but,  with  that  salvo  for  his  own 
reputation,  liberally  lent  his  stage 
to  one  of  the  most  eccentrick  pro- 
ductions,that  ever  found  its  way  to 
it,  and  She  Stoofi9  to  Conquer  was 
put  into  rehearsal. 

We  were  not  over-sanguine  of 
success,  but  perfectly  determined 
to  struggle  hard  for  our  author  : 
we  accordingly  assembled  our 
strength  at  the  Shakspeare  Tavern 
in  a  considerable  body  for  an  ear- 
ly dinner,  where  Samuel  Johnson 
took  the  chair  at  the  head  of  a 
long  table,  and  was  the  life  and 
soul  of  the  corps*:  the  poet  took 
post  silently  by  his  side  with  the 
Burkes,  sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Fitz- 
herbert,  Caleb  Whitefoord  and  a 
phalanx  of  North-British  pre- 
determined applauders,  under  the 
banner  of  Major  Mills,  all  good 
men  and  true.  Our  illustrious 
president  was  in  inimitable  glee, 
and  poor  Goldsmith  that  day  took 
all  his  raillery  as  patiently  and 
complacently  as  my  friend  Boswell 
Vol.  III.  No.  7.     2W 


would  have  done  any  day,  or  eyery 
day  of  his  life.  In  the  mean  time 
we  did  not  forget  our  duty,  and 
though  we  had  a  better  comedy 
going,  in  which  Johnson  Was  chief 
actor,  we  betook  ourselves  in  good 
time  to  our  separate  and  allotted 
posts,  and  waited  the  awful  drawing 
up  of  the  curtain.  As  our  stations 
were  pre-concerted,  so  were  our 
signals  for  plaudits  arranged  and 
determmed  upon  in  a  manner,  tliat 
gave  every  one  his  cue  where  to 
look  for  them,  and  how  to  follow 
them  up. 

We  had  amongst  us  a  very 
worthy  and  efficient  member,  long 
since  lost  to  his  friends  and  the 
world  at  large,  Adam  Drummond, 
of  amiable  memory,  who  was  gift- 
ed by  nature  with  the  most  sono^ 
rous,  and  at  the  same  time  the 
mo^t  contagious,  laugh,  that  ever 
echoed  from  the  human  limgs. 
The  neighing  of  the  horse  of  the 
son  of  Hystaspes  was  a  whisper  to 
it  ;  the  whole  thunder  of  the  thea-* 
tre  could  not  drown  it.  This  kind 
and  ingenuous  friend  fairly  fore- 
warned us  that  he  knew  no  more 
when  to  give  his  fire,  than  the  can- 
non did  that  was  planted  on  a  bat- 
tery. He  desired  therefore  to  have 
a  flapper  at  his  elbow,  and  I  had 
the  honour  to  be  deputed  to  that 
office.  I  planted  him  in  an  upper 
box,  pretty  nearly  over  the  stagCf 
in  full  view  of  the  pit  and  galleries, 
and  perfectly  well  situated  to  give 
the  echo  all  its  play  through  the 
hollows  and  recesses  of  the  theatre. 
The  success  of  our  manoeuvres 
was  complete.  All  eyes  were 
upon  Johnson,  who  sate  in  a  front 
row  of  a  side  box,  and  when  he 
laughed  every  body  thought  them- 
selves warranted  to  roar.  In  the 
mean  time  my  friend  followed  sig- 
nals with  a  rattle  so  irresistibly 
comick,  that,  when  he  had  repeat- 
ed it  several  times,  the  attention 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


354 


•     GOLDSMITH    AND    JOHNSON. 


of  the  Spectators  was  soenp^rossed 
by  his  person  and  performances, 
that  the  proffresaof  the  play  seem- 
ed likely  to  become  a  secondary 
object,  and  I  found  it  prudent  to 
insinuate  to  him  that  he  niii*:ht  halt 
his  musick  without  any  prejudice 
to  the  author  ;  but  alas,  it  was 
now  too  late  to  rein  him  in  ;  he 
had  Jaug^hed  upon  my  si'^nal  where 
he  found  no  joke,  and  now  unluck- 
ily he  fancied  that  he  found  a  joke 
in  almost  every  thin^  that  was 
»aid  ;  so  that  nothing  in  nature 
could  be  more  mal-a-pmpos  than 
some  of  his  bui*sts  every  now  and 
then  were.  These  weit  dani^erous 
moments,  for  the  pit  began  to'take 
umbrage  ;  but  we  carried  our  play 
through,  and  triumphed  not  oirly 
over  Colman's  judgment,  but  our 
own. 

As  the  life  of  poor  Oliver  Gold- 
smith was  now  fast  approaching 
to  its  period,  I  conclude  my  ac- 
fount  of  him  with  gratitude  for  the 
epitaph  he  bestowed  on  me  in  his 
poem  called  Retatlation,  It  was 
upon  a  proposal  started  by  Edmund 
iiurke,  that  a  party  of  friends  who 
had  dined  together  at  sir  Joshua 
Reynolds's  and  my  house,  should 
tneet  at  the  Si.  JamesN  Coffee- 
House,  which  accordingly  took 
place,  and  was  occasionally  repeat* 
ed  with  much  festivity  and  good 
fellowship.  Dr.  Beniard,  Dean  of 
Derry,  a  very  amiable  and  old 
friend  of  mine,  Dr.  Douglas,  since 
Bishop  of  Salisbury,  Johnson,  Da-  - 
vid  Garrick,  sir  Joshua  Reynolds, 
Oliver  Goldsmith,  Edmund  and 
Richard  Burke,  Hickey,  with  two 
or  three  others  constituted  our 
party.  At  one  of  these  meetings 
an  idea  was  suggested  of  extempo- 
rary epitaphs  upon  the  parties 
present  ;  pen  and  ink  were  called 
for,  and  Garrick  off  hand  wrote  an 
epitaph  with  a  good  deal  of  humour 
upon    poor  Groidsmitii,  who  was 


the  first  in  jest,  as  he  proved  to  be 
in  reality,  that  we  committed  to 
the  grave.  The  dean  also  t^^ave 
him  an  epitaph,  and  J^ir  Joshua  il- 
luminated the  dean'5  verses  with  a 
sketch  of  his  bust  in  pen  and  ink, 
inimitably  caricatured.  Neither 
Johnson  nor  Burke  wrote  any  tilings 
and  when  !  perceived  Oliver  was 
rather  sore,  and  seemed  to  watch 
me  with  that  kind  of  attention, 
which  indicated  his  expectation  of 
something  in  the  same  kind  of  bur- 
lesque as  t heir's,  I  thought  it  time 
to  press  the  joke  no  further,  and 
wixite  a  few  couplets  at  a  side-table, 
which  when  I  had  finished  and  was 
called  upon  by  the  company  to  ex- 
hibit, Goldsmith  with  much  agita- 
tion besought  me  to  spare  him, 
and  I  Was  about  to  tear  them,whcn 
Johnson  wrested  them  out  of  jnjr 
hand,  and  in  a  loud  voice  read 
them  at  the  table.  I  have  now  lost 
all  recollection  of  them,  and  in  fact 
they  were  little  worth  remember- 
ing ;  but  as  they  were  serious  and 
complimentary,  tlie  effect  they  bad 
uponGoldsmith  was  the  more  pleas- 
ing for  being  so  entirely  unexpected. 
The  concluding  line,  which  is  the 
only  one  I  can  call  to  mind,  was — 

«*  All  mourn  ihc  poet,  I  faunent  the  mjo-w" 

This  I  recollect,  because  he  re- 
peated it  several  limes,  and  seem- 
ed mtich  gratified  by  it.  At  our 
next  meeting  he  produced  his  epi- 
taphs as  they  s^tfid  in  the  little 
posthumous  poem  above  mention- 
ed, and  this  was  the  last  time  he  ever 
enjoyed  the  company  of  his  friends. 

As  he  had  served  up  the  com- 
pany under  the  similitude  of  va- 
rious sorts  of  meat,  I  had  in  the 
mean  time  figured  them  under 
that  of  liquors,  which  little  poem 
I  rather  think  was  printed,  but  of 
this  1  am  not  sure.  Goldsmith 
sickened  and  died,  and  ure  had  one 
concluding  meeting  at  mj  hoosei 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


LITERATURE    OF    NOH TH-C  AROLIKA. 


when  it  was  decided  to  publish 
his  Retail  ition,  and  Johnson  at  the 
same  time  undertook  to  write  an 
epitaph  for  our  lamented  friend, 
to  whom  we  proposed  to  erect  a 
a  monument  by  subscription  in 
Westminster-Abbey.  This  epi- 
t:iph  Johnson  executed  ;  but  in 
the  criticism,  that  was  attempted 
aj^ainst  it,  and  in  the  Round-Robin 
My;ned  at  Mr.  Beauclerc's  house 
I  had  no  part.  I  had  no  acquain- 
tance with  that  gentleman,  and 
was  never  in  his  house  in  my 
life. 

Thus  died  Oliver  Goldsmith  in 
his  chambers  in  the  Temple  at  a 
period  of  life,  when  his  genius 
was  yet  in  its  \igour,  and  fortune 
seemed  disposed  to  smile  upon 
him.  I  have  heard  Dr.  Johnson 
relate  with  infinite  humour  the 
circumstance  of  his  rescuing  him 
from  a  ridiculous  dilemma  by  the 
purchase-money  of  his  Vicar  of 
Wakefield,  which  he  sold  on  his 
behalf  to  Dodsley,  and,  as  I  think, 
for  the  sum  of  ten  pounds  only. 
He  had  run  up  a  debt  with  his 
landlady  for  board  and  lodging  of 
som^e  few  pounds,  and  was  at  his 
wit*s-end  how  to  wipe  off  the 
score  and  keep  a  roof  over  his 
head,  except  by  closing  with  a 
very  staggering  proposal  on  her 
part,  and  taking  his  creditor  to 
nvife,  whose  charms  were  very  far 


from  alluring,  whilst  her  demands 
were  extremely  ui*gent.  In  this 
cri>>is  of  his  fate  he  was  found  by 
Johnson  in  the  act  of  meditating 
on  the  melancholy  alternative  be- 
fore him.  He  shewed  Johnson 
hjs  manuscript  of  The  Vicar  of 
Wakefield,  but  seemed  to  be  with- 
out any  plan,  or  even  hope,  of 
raising  money  upon  the  disposal 
of  it  ;  when  Johnson  cast  his  eye 
upon  it,  he  discovered  something 
that  gave  him  hope,  and  imme- 
diately took  it  to  Dodsley,  who 
paid  down  the  price  above-men- 
tioned in  ready-money,  and  added 
an  eventual  condition  upon  its  fu- 
ture sale.  Johnson  described  the 
precautions  he  took  in  concealing 
the  amoimt  of  the  sum  he  had  in 
hand,  which  he  prudently  adminis- 
tered to  him  by  a  guinea  at  a  time. 
In  the  event  he  paid  off  the  landla- 
dy's score,  and  redeemed  the  per- 
son of  his  friend  from  her  em- 
braces. Goldsmith  had  the  joy 
of  finding  his  ingenious  work  suc- 
ceed beyond  his  hopes,  and  from 
that  time  began  to  place  a  confi- 
dence in  the  resources  of  his  tal- 
ents, which  thenceforward  enabled 
him  to  keep  his  station  in  society, 
and  cultivate  the  friendship  of 
many  eminent  persons,  who,whilst 
they  smiled  at  his  eccentricities, 
esteemed  him  for  his  genius  and 
good  qualities. 


LITERATURE   OF    NORTH-CAROLINA. 

Sztrad  of  a  letta  from  a  gentieman  at  Raleigh,  N.  C.  to  the  fediton  of  the  Anthologr,  Feb.  14. 


AN  account  of  the  literature  of 
this  State  might  be  comprized  in 
\  a  single  page,  and  if  the  length  of 
the  account  was  regarded  only  in 
the  proportion  it  bears  to  its  inter- 
est, that  page  would  be  deemed 
tedious.  There  are  only  ten  pres- 
ses in  the   state,  viz.  two  in  Ra- 


Idgh,  two  in  Newbem,  and  one  in 
each  of  the  towns  of  Edenton, 
Halifax,  Wilmington,  Fayettevillc, 
Salisbury,  and  Warrenton.  From 
each  of  these  presses  issues  a 
weekly  paper,  except  the  one  in 
Salisbury,  which  is  employed  in 
printing  handbills  and  pamphlets. 


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356 


LITERATUBE  OF   NORTH-CAHOLINA. 


The  papers  are  compilations,  and 
the  few  books  published  are  law 
books  and  the  doggrel  hymns  of 
religious  enthuuasts,  and  now  and 
then  a  trash  novel,  which  is  com*- 
nionly  exchanged  for  other  trash 
At  the  Literary  Fair.  I  will  give 
as  complete  a  list  as  I  am  able 
pf  all  the  original  works  ever  pubr 
lished  in  this  State,  with  a  brief 
character  annexed* 

1 .  Haywood's  Reports  of  Cases, 
decided  in  the  Superiour  Courts  of 
this  State.  A  valuable  book,  pub* 
lished  by  Hodge  Sc  Boy  Ian,  1800. 
N.  B-  A  second  volume  is  now  in 

(the  press  of  Wm.  Boylan. 

2.  A  Journey  to  Lake  Drum- 
mond,  by  Lemuel  Sawyer,  The 
events  are  without  interest ;  the 
remarks  puerile,  and  the  Is^guage 
the  most  superlative  bombas(. 
Published  eight  or  ten  years  ago. 

5.  Matilda  Berkley,  a  novel. 
About  upon  a  level  with  the  Mas- 
sachusetts novel  of  the  Coquette, 
or  Eliza  Wharton.  Published  by 
J.  Gales  m  1804. 

4.  Taylor's  Reports  of  Cases, 
adjudged  in  the  Supreme  Cpurt  of 
North  Carolina.  Of  a  mpderate 
reputation.  Marlin  Sc  Ogden.  1802. 

5.  History  of  the  Kelukick 
Baptist  Association,  by  Burkit  and 
Read.     Boyl^.     18^4. 

6.  A  Masonick  Ritual,  publishi- 
cd  under  the  direction  of  the  G. 
Lodge  of  North  Carolina.  The 
best  of  the  kind.     Sims.     1806. 

7.  Davies's  Calvary.  An  ex- 
cellept  system.     (lodge,     1798. 

Cameron's  Law  Reports  are  in 
the  press  of  J.  Gales,  of  which 
^ere  are  favourable  expectations. 

These  are  the  only  publications, 
which  t  recollect,  that  have  assum- 
ed the  dignity  of  a  volume.  Of 
political  and  religious  pamphlets 
we  have  quantum  sufficit.  The  Rev. 
Joseph  Caldwell,  president  of  the 
University  of  N.  Carolina,  is  the 


first  sdentifick  and  literary  char- 
acter in  the  State.  He  is  now  em- 
ployed in  writing  a  book  on  Math- 
ematicks,  intended  as  a  school- 
book.  Two  sermons  and  an  eti- 
logium  on  Gen.  Washington  by 
him,  which  have  been  published 
separately  in  pamphlets,  are  hand** 
some  specimens  of  his  abilities.  I 
know  of  no  other  pamphlets  that 
nierit  the  respect  of  being  named. 
There  is  in  this  state  one  uni* 
versity  and  several  academies,  but 
none  of  them  are  supported  by 
permanent  funds.  The  university 
was  founded  about  fourteen  years 
ago,  and  received  from  the  state 
a  donation  of  all  balances  then  due 
the  state  from  revenue  officers, 
all  confiscated  and  escheat  proper- 
ty, and  a  loan  of  g20,000.  To  a 
"  huge  mishapen  pile,"  which  is 
placed  on  a  high  rocky  eminence 
twenty-eight  miles  to  the  westward 
of  this,  has  been  given  the  name 
of  the  College,  and  a  donation  from 
Gen.  Thomas  Person  built  a  neat 
chapel.  After  considerable  diffi- 
culties were  experienced  on  ac- 
count of  incompetent  teachers  and 
insurrections  among  the  students, 
the  institution,  under  the  direction 
of  Mr.  Caldwell,  two  professors, 
ajid  two  tutors,  acquired  regularity 
&  consistency  in  its  exercises,  when 
pur  enlightened  legislature  discov- 
ered that  education  was  inconsistent 
with  republicanism  ;  that  it  crea- 
ted an  aristocracy  of  the  learned, 
who  would  trample  upon  the  rights 
and  liberties  of  the  ignorant,  and 
that  an  equality  of  intellect  was 
necessary  to  preserve  the  equality 
of  rights.  Influenced  by  these 
wise  and  patriotick  considerations, 
the  legislature  gave  to  themselves 
again,  what  they  had  before  given 
to  theUniversity.  The  institution 
now  languishes  ;  Mr.  Caldwell's 
ai)ti-republican  love  of  literature, 
and  not  the    emoluments  of  hia 


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SILTA. 


357 


office,  induces  him  to  preserve  in 
existence  by  his  influence  even  the 
shadow  of  9  college.  He  is  assist- 
ed by  only  one  tutor  ;  the  funds  do 
not  pennit  the  employment  of  more. 
There  is  an  excellent  female 
academy,  lately  established  by  the 
Society  of  United  Bi-ethren  (Mo- 
ravians) at  Salem.  There  are 
very  good  academies  in  Raleigh, 
Newbem,  Fayetteville,  Lewisburg, 
Warrenton,and  two  or  three  others. 
—A  publick  library  has  been  foun- 


ded in  Newbem  by  a  donation  of 
8500  from  Thomas  Tomlinson.  • 
It  is  divided  into  eighty  shares 
of  220  each  ;  all  the  shares  are 
filled,  and  the  books  purchased. 
It  is  contemplated  to  extend  the 
number  of  shares  to  120. 

I  know  of  no  other  publick  li- 
braries in  the  state,  except  one  in 
Iredell  county,  established  by  a  so- 
ciety called  the  Centre  Benevolent 
Society,  which  has  subsisted  near- 
ly twenty  years. 


SILVA, 

Purporeoa  metam  iorei,  cc  flumine  Ubam 
Sumnu. 


^o,  \r. 


I  FORESEE  that  in  writing  this 
Silva  I  must  frequently  recur  to 
the  loose  papers  on  my  table,  or 
to  what  is  as  loosely  floating  in  my 
memory  ;  and  I  hope  for  pardon 
from  every  one,  who  has  himself 
attempted  to  compose  in  the  first 
month  of  summer.  In  looking 
over  the  <'  Anatomy  of  Melancho- 
ly," some  time  since,  I  found  the 
following  verses  with  the  reference 
Politianu9  de  Rustico. 

Feruc  me  tnimi,  divlique  ilmlUImas  ipsit. 
Quern  noa  mordaci  rcsplendens  gloria  faco 
SoUcitat  ;  non  Dutod  maU  gaudia  luxut  i 
Scd  eadtoa  dnit  ire  diet  e(  paupere  cultu, 
JExigit  ixmoauB  tranquilla  tUentla  vitx. 

These  verses  are  beautiful,  but 
such  uniform  days  would  not  con- 
stitute a  happy  life.  It  is  strange, 
that  any  one,  who  knows  himself 
to  be  human,  should  suppose,  that 
he  ever  could,  even  when  in  health 
of  mind,  so  divest  himself  of  hope, 
as  to  live  content  ;  that  tomorrow 
should  he  as  to  day.  Common, 
quiet,  and  domestick  ples^sures  do 
indeed  constitute  the  most  valuable 
part  of  our  happiness  ;  but  to  him 
alone  are  they  delightful,  who  re- 
tires, to  be  conversant  among  themy 


from  manly,  and,  if  I  may  so  speak, 
progressive  exertions.  The  fol- 
lowing verses  from  Southey  de- 
scribe a  kind  of  seclusion  far  less 
pleasing  in  prospect,  than  that  of 
Politiano,  but  perhaps  more  con- 
formable to  human  passions. 

of  Uie  world 
Fatigued,  and  loaUiing  at  xny  fellow-mea 
1  ahall  be  seen  no  more.     There  \»  a  paUi, 
The  eagle  hath  not  nurked  It,  the  young  wolf 
Knows  not  its  hidden  windingi.     I  have  trod 
That  path  and  marlced  a  melancholy  cave. 
Where  one,  whose  jaundiced  soul  abhors  itself. 
May  pamper  him  In  complete  wretchedness. 
There  sepulchred,  the  ghost  of  what  he  was, 
Coarade  shall  dwell,  and,  in  the  languid  hour. 
When  the  Jarred  senses  sink  to  a  sick  calm. 
Shall  mourn  the  waste  of  frensy. 

This  passage  is  in  the  4th  Book  of 
Joan  of  Arc.  In  writing  the  3d, 
4th,  and  5th  lines  of  it,  Southey 
undoubtedly  had  in  his  memory 
the  7th  and  8th  verses  of  the  28th 
chapter  of  Job. 

"  There  is  a  path,  which  no 
fowl  knoweth,  and  which  the  vul- 
ture's eye  hath  not  seen. 

"  The  lion's  whelps  have  not 
trodden  it,  nor  the  fierce  lion  pas- 
sed by  it." 

The  necessity  of  the  altematioa 
of  rest  and  labour  to  our  happiness 


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91LVA. 


i«  CKpresscd  not  inelegantly  in 
the  conclusion  of  the  two  follow- 
ing passages  : 

"  Why,you  have  considered  this 
matter  very  deeply,"  said  Dr. 
Lyster,  «  but  I  must  not  have  you 
give  way  to  these  serious  reflec- 
tions. Thought,  after  all,  has  a 
cruel  spite  against  happiness.  I 
would  have  you  therefore  keep  as 
much  as  you  conveniently  can 
out  of  its  company.  Run  about, 
and  divert  yourself ;  'tis  all  you 
have  for  it.  The  true  art  of  hap- 
piness, in  this  most  whimsical 
world,  seems  to  be  nothing  more 
than  this  :  let  those  who  have 
leisure  find  employment,  and  those 
who  have  business  find  leisure.*' 
Cecilia, 

«  We  should  have  known  our- 
selves to  have  been  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  some  place  larger 
than  usual  [Cologne]  from  tlie 
iught  of  two  or  three  carriages  on 
the  road,  nearly  the  first  we  had 
seen  in  Germany.  There  is,  be- 
sides, some  shew  of  labour  in  the 
adjoining  villages  ;  but  the  sallow 
countenances  and  miserable  air  of 
the  people  prove,  tliat  it  is  a  la- 
bour not  beneficial  to  them.  The 
houses  are  only  the  desolated 
iiomes  of  these  villagers,  £br  theve 
is  not  one  of  them  that  can  be 
supposed  to  belong  to  any  pros- 
perous inhabitant  of  the  neighbour- 
ing city,  ©r  to  afford  that  coveted 
stillness,  in  which  tlie  active  find 
an  occasional  reward,  and  the  idle 
perpetual  misery."  MraMatcliffc^a 
Journey  through  Germany. 

'On  srXiumt  mumi. 

«  All  is  little  and  low  and  mean 
among  us,"  said  Lord  Bolingbruke, 
speaking  of  the  state  of  England 
when  he  wrote.  I  will  repeat  his 
language,  and  apply  it  to  my  own 
country.  All,  which  is  most 
|>romineQt   and  apparent  among 


us. ...all,  which  would  first  present 
itself  to  the  view  of  a  stranger,  is 
little  and  low*  and  mean.  «No$ 
hie  in  republica  infirma,  misera, 
commutabilique  versamur."  h  is 
the  temper  of  democracy  to  crush 
every  thing  elegant,  and  to  batter 
down  every  thing  noble.  In  aD 
countries  where  it  prevails,  there 
is  an  osiracisiriy  whether  visible  or 
not,  at  constant  war  with  talents 
and  learning  and  virtue,  with  all 
qualities  which  may  excite  envy 
or  claim  superiority.  In  its  worst 
state,  it  is  the  dominion  of  brute 
force  and  idiot  violence.  Yor  raf 
part,  I  have  no  wish  to  take  any 
share  in  such  a  miserable  so?er- 
eignty.  I  am  willing  to  submit  to 
tliose,  oil  whom  nature aad edoc. • 
tion  have  conferred  the  right  lo 
rule. 

HUMAN    NATURE. 

j^Iasy  floor  human  nature  !  is  the 
most  composing  exclamadon  in 
the  world.  It  diffuses  among  th« 
species  those  feelings,  which,  if 
concentrated  on  an  individuil, 
would  be  angler  or  disgust,  but 
which  thus  become  little  more 
than  pity.  When  we  meet  with 
9fky  thing  harsh  or  unpleasant,  it 
removes  our  oonsideration  from 
the  offence  to  the  cause  whkh 
produced  it,  and  whether  this  be 
pride,  or  vanity,  or  ignorance,  or 
ill-nature,  we  shall  remember,  that 
there  are  many  men  proud,  «nd 
vain,  and  ignorant  and  ill-natured, 
and  that  it  is  hardly  worth  wbik 
to  be  exceedingly  angry  with  ooc 
of  these,  because  chance  has  un- 
fortunately cast  him  in  our  way. 

LUCRETIUS. 

The  beginning  of  the  4th  book 
of  Lucretius  contains  the  conunon 
bo^st  of  poets  that  they  arc  wri- 
ting of  "  things  unattempted  yet, 


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359 


and  his  celebrated  simile,  by  which 
he  gives  his  reason  for  treating 
philosophical  subjects  in  verse. 
The  follo\ring  is  a  translation, 
which  was  sometime  since  made 
of  this  passage. 

LUCRETIUS,  b.  W.  c.  I. 
Now  through  the  Mufes*  pathler*  plains  I  ftray, 
Where  no  preceding  footfteps  mark  the  way ; 
I  drink  delighted  fprings  to  ne  revealed, 
I  pluck  delighted  flowen  before  concealed  ; 
Wen  pleaied  to  %vcave  a  not  ignoble  crown, 
Aod  rdl  my  brows  with  honours  yet  unknown. 
For  of  high  themes  I  (ing,  and  would  unbind 
Religion's  fetters  from  the  trembling  n^d ; 
ObTcurcr  fubjects  treat  in  lucid  verfe, 
And  all  arouad  poetick  charms  dltperte 
With  wife  defign  ;  for  as  phyfidans  use. 
When  they  harih  vv^mwood  in  a  cup  inAife 
For  fome  fick  child  who  loaths  the  med'cine  much, 
With  yellow  honey  all  the  brim  to  touch, 
Aod  thus  the  unthinkii^  boy  allured  to  tafte, 
OraiiM  down  the  bitter  juice  with  carelcfs  hafte. 
By  tMs  kind  art  not  cheated,  though  deceived. 
And  thus  from  weakne£s  and  froA  pain  relieved. 
80  I,  becaufis  to  moft  my  fubjed  feems 
But  haiih,  and  all  the  vulgar  dread  my  thenoea^ 
To  woo  the  tafte,  Pierian  fweets  dirperfe, 
Aod  grace  my  reafonings  with  the  ciurnu  of  vcrfe. 

The  9th  and  10th  lines  are  not, 
I  believe,  a  correct  translation,  but 
I  have  not  the  original,  and  cannot 
determine.  The  sense  I  think  is 
preserved,  but  not  the  expression. 
The  7th  and  8th  lines  of  the  trans- 
lation appear  so  harsh,  that  I  will 
observe,  that  there  are  not  manv 
men,  I  suppose,  who  have  learning 
enough  to  read  and  taste  enough 
to  be  pleased  with  the  poetry  of 
Lucretius,  who  are  not  disgusted 
with  his  philosophy. 

SECUNDUS. 

The  following  are  the  original 
and  a  translation  of  the  First  Ba- 
sium  of  Secundus,  which  treats  of 
the  origin  of  kisses.  The  classical 
reader  will  immediately  recollect, 
that  it  is  founded  on  the  relation 
in  the  first  book  of  the  -fineid,  of 
Venus  removing  her  grandson  As- 
canius  from  the  court  of  Dido. 
«  At  Venus  Ascanio,"  &c.  1.  6^4. 


BASIUM  I. 

Cum  Venus  Afcanium  fuper  alta  Cythera  tulUTct  > 

Sopltitm  tenerb  impoAiit  violis  ; 

Albarum  nimbos  circumfudit  rofarum, 

Et  totura  liqutdo  ()parfit  edore  locum. 

Mox  vetcres  animo  revocavit  Adonldls  <gnels« 

Notus  et  irrepftt  Ima  per  ofla  calor. 

O  quoties  voluit  drcundare  colla  nepotb  f 

O,  quoties  dixit  f  Talte  Adonis  erat. 

Sed  pladdum  pueri  metuens  turbare  quietemt 

Fixit  vicinls  Bafia  mille  roOu^ 

Ecce  calent  illas ;  cupidx  per  ora  Dionet 

Aura,  Aifufanti  flamlne,  lenta  fubit. 

Quotquot  ToQa  tctigit,  tot  Bafla  nata  repente 

Gaudia  reddetent  multlplicata  Deae. 

At  Cythcrca  natans  per  nubila  Cygnb, 

Ingentis  terrse  coepit  oblre  globum  } 

Triptolcmiq  :  modo  foecundls  ofcula  glebls 

Sparfit,  et  ignotos  ter  dedit  ore  fonos. 

lode  feges  felix  nata  eit  mortalibus  aegrii 

Inde  medela  meis  noica  nata  malls. 

Salvete  vtemum  I  mlferae  moderamina  flamns« 

Humkia  de  gelldls  Safia  naU  rofis. 

En  ego  fum,  veftri  quo  vate  canentur  hooores, 

Nota  Mcdolasi  dtim  juga  montls  erunt. 

Et  memor  Aneadum,  ftirpifque  difertua  amattf 

MoUia  Romulidum  verba  loquitur  amor. 

TRANSLATION. 

?(^en  Venus  bore  with  fond  delight 

Afcanhis  to  Cytheral  neight. 

On  vk>let8  riliog  to  be  preft 

She  Ukl  the  blooming  boy  to  reft ; 

Clouds  of  white  rofts  o'er  him  fpread. 

And  liquid  fragrance  round  him  (hed. 

Then  as  (he  gazed,  a  well  known  flame 

With  gentle  tremors  thrilled  her  frame. 

The  boy  had  all  Adonis'  chamis. 

How  oft  Ihe  longed  to  claTp  her  amw 

Around  his  neck;  how  oft  fhc  Cild, 

Adonis  once  fuch  charms  difplayed. 

But  fearful  to  difturb  his  reft, 

She  on  each  rofe  a  kift  Impreft. 

And  lo  !  they  warm ;  with  murmurs  wedc 

A  foft  air  wantons  o'er  her  cheek. 

Each  rofe  (he  touched,  a  newborn  kils 

Glowed  on  her  lips  with  novel  blUk. 

Now  floating  where  the  thin  clouds  fpread. 

Dione's  car  her  white  fwans  led. 

O'er  the  wide  earth  (he  flowly  paft. 

And  on  its  fertile  bofom  caft 

Fall  many  a  kils ;  her  warm  lips  move. 

Thrice  uttering  unknown  founds  of  love. 

And  hence  a  fruitful  harveft  rofe 

For  weary  man  oppreft  with  woea. 

Te  only  med*cines  of  my  grielir 

That  fometimes  give  a  (hort  relief, 

Molft  kifles  from  cold  rofes  fprung. 

Your  poet's  verfe  (hall  long  be  fuog ; 

Long  as  the  Mufts'  mount  remains. 

Or  tove  weU  learned  in  Latfam  flraioa. 

And  pleafcd  the  JEnean  race  to  own. 

Speaks  ihe  fo/t  words  to  Romans  known. 


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360 


SAKS   soucr. 


SANS   SOUCI. 

stealing  and  giwiog  tweets,  8HAKEIP. 


IN  the  year  1784  Dr.  Hunter 
first  appeared  before  the  world, 
in  the  character  of  an  autlior> 
by  the  publication  of  two  vol- 
umes of  his  Sacred  Biography. 
The  plan  of  this  work  he  had  con- 
ceived, we  arc  told,  when  young  ; 
and  so  favourable  was  the  recep- 
tion it  experienced,  as  to  encour- 
age him  to  extend  it  to  seven  vol- 
umes. Previous,  however,  to  the 
publication  of  the  latter  part  of  this 
work,  accident  introduced  him  to 
an  acquaintance  with  a  French  edi- 
tion of  Lavater's  Physiognomy. 
*  Whatever  opinions  Dr.  Hunter 
embraced,  he  embraced  warmly.' 
He  was  struck  with  the  novelty 
and  originality  of  thought  display- 
ed in  the  essays  of  that  writer  ;  he 
became  an  enthusiast  in  the  cause  ; 
and  determined  to  translate  them 
into  English.  The  same  ardent 
spirit  which  had  induced  Dr.  H. 
to  adopt  this  scheme,  prompted 
him  to  make  a  journey  to  Zurich, 
for  the  sake  of  a  personal  interview 
with  Lavatcr.  In  August  1787 
he  accordingly  repaired  thither. 
It  might  have  been  reasonably  ex- 
pected,that  a  proceeding  so  roman- 
tick  would  have  been  considered 
by  Lavater  as  no  common  compli- 
ment to  him.  But  he  did  not  re- 
ceive Dr.  Hunter  with  that  frank- 
ness or  generosity,  to  which  so 
distinguished  a  mark  of  respect 
seemed  fairly  to  entitle  him.  La- 
vater was  jealous  of  Dr.  H.'s  un- 
.  dertaking,  and  thought  the  Eng- 
lish translation  likely  to  injure  the 
sale  of  the  French  edition,  in 
which  he  was  interested.  By  de- 
grees, however,  his  scruples  were 
overcome,  and  he  finally  opened 
himself  to  the  Doctor  without  re- 
serve.    In  a  letter,  written  by  the 


latter  gentleman  from  Bern,  a  por- 
trait of  Lavater  is  drawn,  and  a 
descripttion  of  their  last  interview 
is  given.  This  we  consider  as  a 
curious  literary  morsel,  and  we 
shall  make  no  apology  for  trans- 
cribing it  into  the  Anthology. 

"  I  was  detained  the  whole 
morning  by  that  strange,  wild,  cc- 
centrick,Lavater,  in  various  conver- 
sations. When  once  he  is  set 
agoing,  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
stopping  him,  till  he  run  himself 
out  of  breath.  He  starts  from  sub- 
ject to  subject,  flies  from  book  to 
book,  from  picture  to  picture ; 
measures  your  nose,  your  eye, 
your  mouth,  with  a  pair  of  com- 
passes ;  pours  forth  a  torrent  of 
physiognomy  upon  you  ;  drags 
you,  for  a  proof  of  his  dogma,  to 
a  dozen  of  closets,  and  unfolds  ten 
thousand  drawings  ;  but  will  not 
let  you  open  your  lips  to  propose 
a  difficulty  :  crams  a  solution 
down  your  throat,  before  you  have 
uttered  half  a  syllable  of  your  ob- 
jection. He  is  meagre  as  the 
picture  of  famine  ;  his  nose  and 
chin  almost  meet.  I  read  him  in 
my  tum,and  found  little  difficulty  in 
discovering,  amidst  great  genius, 
unaffected  piety,  unbounded  bene- 
volence, and  moderate  learning  ; 
much  caprice  and  unsteadiness  ; 
a  mind  at  once  aspiring  by  nature, 
and  grovelling  through  necessity  ; 
an  endless  turn  to  speculation  and 
project  :— 4n  a  word,  a  clever, 
flighty,  good-natured  necessitous 
man.  He  did  not  conceal  hii 
dread  of  my  English  translation, 
as  he  thinks  is  will  materially  af- 
fect the  sale  of  the  third  and  fourth 
volumes  of  his  French  edition,  one 
of  which  is  actually  published^and 
the  other  in  the  press." 


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361 


POETRY. 


SMITH'S  POEM 

Td     THE     MEMORY     OF    MR.   JOHN 
PHILIPS. 

In  1709,  a  year  after  the  exhibition  of 
Ph^ra,  died  John  Philips,  the  friend, 
and  fellow-coUegian  of  Smith,  who, 
on  that  occafion,  wrote  a  poem,  which 
juftice  muft  place  among  the  bed  ele- 
gies which  our  language  can  ihew,  an 
elegant  mixture  of  fondnels  and  admi- 
ration, of  dignity  and  foftneft.  There 
are  fame  parages  too  ludicrous  ;  but 
every  human  performance  has  its  faults.- 

JOUNSOM.      . 

SINCE  our  Ifis  filentlf  deplores 
The  bard  who  fV>read  her  fame  to  diftant  fliores  j 
Since  nobler  pens  theh-  moumfol  Jayt  fblkiend, 
My  boncft  lea).  If  not  my  verfe,  commend, 
FofglTe  the  poet,  and  approve  the  fHend. 
Your  care  had  long  hit  fleeting  life  reJtrain  'd, 
One  table  fed  you,  and  one  bed  contained  ; 
For  hii  dear  fake  long  reftlefs  night*  you  bore. 
While  rattling  coughs  hii  heaving  vcflels  tore, 
Mach  was  his  pain,  but  your  affliftlon  more. 
<Wi !  bad  no  fumftions  from  the  nolfy  gown 
Called  tlicc,  unwilling,  to  the  naufcous  town, 
Thy  love  h»d  o'er  the  dull  dMeafe  ptevail'd. 
Thy  mirth  had  cur»d  where  baffled  phyfick  fail'd  j 
Butfincc  the  will  af  heaven  his  fate  decreed. 
To  thy  kind  care  my  worth  leGs  lines  fuccccd  j 
Fruftleft  our  hop«8,  though  piom  our  eflays. 
Yours  to  prcfervc  a  friend,  and  mine  to  praifc. 

Oh  !  might  I  paint  him  In  MQtoiilan  veffe. 
With  ftraina  like  thofc  he  fung  on  Glo'fterH  herfe  j 
But  with  the  meaner  tribe  I'm  forc'd  to  chime. 
And,  wanting  ftrength  to  rife,  defccnd  to  rhyme. 

With  other  fire  his  glorious  Blenheim  flUnes, 
And  aU  the  battle  thonden  In  his  lines ; 
Rk  nervous  verfe  great  Boileau*s  ftrength  tranf- 

cenda. 
And  France  to  Philips  u  to  Cburckill,  bends. 

Oh  !  various  bard,  yon  all  ota-  powcra  control, 
Yoa  now  dbturb,  and  now  dfvert  the  foul : 
Milton  and  Butler  in  thy  roufe  combine. 
Above  the  laR  thy  manly  beauties  fhlne  ; 
Wot  as  I  Vc  fcen,  when  rival  witu  cantend, 
One  gayly  charge,  one  gravely  wife  defend ; 
This  on  quick  turns  and  poinu  in  vain  relies, 
Thh  with  a  look  demure,  and  Ready  eyes. 
With  dry  rebukes,  or  fneerlng  praifc,  replies. 

Vol.  III.  No.  7.  2X 


So  thy  grave  lines  extort  a  jtifter  fmlle, 
Reach  Butler's  fancy,  but  furpaik  his  ftyle ; 
He  l^aks  Scarron*^  low  phrafe  in  humble  ttrains, 
III  thee  the  folemo  air  of  great  Cervantes  re^ns. 

What  founding  lines  his  abjeft  themes  expreft  I 
What  Orining  words  the  pompous  shilling  drds  I 
There,  there  my  cell,  immorul  made,  outvies 
The  fraUcr  piles  which  o'er  its  ruins  lifc. 
In  her  beft  light  the  comick  mufe  appears. 
When  (he,  with  borrow'd  pride,  the  buikin  wears. 

So  when  nnrfe  Nokes,  to  ad  young  Amoioo 
tries. 
With  Oiambllng  legs,  long  chin,  and  foolMh  eyes  } 
WIUi  dangling  hands  he  ttrokes  th*  Imperial  robe. 
And,  witli  a  cuckold's  air.  commands  the  globe  ; 
The  pomp  and  found  the  whole  buffoon  difplay'd. 
And  Anmion's  Ion  au)re  mirth  than  Gomes  made. 

Forgive,  dear  /hade,  the  fcenc  my  folly  draws. 
Thy  ttrains  divert  the  grief  thy  a(hes  caufe  : 
When  Orpheus  fings,  the  ghotts  no  more  com-^ 

plain, 
6ut,  in  his  lulling  mufick,  lofe  their  pain  : 
So  charm  the  (allies  of  thy  Georgick  mufe, 
6o  calm  our  forrows,  and  our  joys  Infufe ; 
Here  rural  notes  a  gentle  mirth  infpire. 
Here  lofty  Unes  the  kindling  reader  fire. 
Like  that  lair  tree  you  praife.  the  poem  charms, 
Cools  Uke  the  fruit,  or  like  the  juice  it  warms. 

Bteft  cllme,  which  Vaga's  frultflol  ttreams  im- 
prove, 
Etruria's  envy,  and  her  Coftno's  love  ; 
Redftreak  he  quaffs  beneath^ he  Chiant  vine. 
Gives  1  ufcan  yearty  for  thy  ScudmoreH  wine. 
And  ev'n  his  Taffo  would  exchange  for  thine. 
Rife,  rife,  Rolcommon,  fee  the  Blenheim  mufe 
The  dull  conftraint  of  monki(h  riiyme  refufc  -, 
see,  o'er  the  Alps  his  towering  pinions  foar, 
Where  never  Englifti  poet  reach  d  before  ; 
See  mlfthiy  Cofmo'ii  eounfellor  and  friend. 
By  turns  on  Gofmo  and  the  bard  attend  { 
Rich  in  the  coins  and  bolts  of  ancient  Rome, 
In  him  he  brings  a  nobler  treafuro  home  j 
In  them  he  views  her  gods,  and  domes  dtflglHd, 
In  him  the  foul  of  Romp,  and  Virgil's  nighcr 

mind : 
To  him  for  cafe  retires  from  toils  of  Hate, 
Hot  half  fo  proud  to  govern,  as  tranflate. 

Ouf  Spcnfcr,  firft  by  Pifan  poets  Uupht, 
To  us  their  talcs,  their  ityle,  and  nuitibei  s  broujjht^ 
To  follow  ours,  now  Tufcan  bards  defccnd. 
From  Philips  borrow,  though  to  Spenfcr  lend, 
^ke  Philips  too  the  yoke  uf  rhyme  difdain  ^ 
They  firtt  on  Engltfh  bards  imposM  the  chain, 
Firtt  by  an  Engliih  bard  from  rhyme  their  Sel- 
dom gain. 

TyrannJck  rhyme  that  cramps  to  equal  chime 
The  gay.  the  foft,  the  florid,  and  XubUme ; 


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36ii 


POET  R  If. 


Some  fay  thfa  chain  the  doubtful  fcnfc  decides. 
Confine*  the  fancy,  and  the  judgment  guide*  i 
I'm  (iiTC  in  necdicis  bonds  it  pocti  tici, 
Procrufte«-Hkc,  the  a*  or  wheel  applies. 
To  lop  the  xftadgWd  fthfc,  or  ftwtth  it  hito  fl*  i 
At  bcft  a  crutch,  tHat  lifts  the  wwfc  ateng. 
Siipportt  the  fceWe.  but  retards  tiwftroBg; 
Aad  the  ohtnce  th«»ghii.  whea  gowned  by  the 

clofc, 
oft  rife  to  fuftian,  or  dcTcend  to  p*^fe-  ^ 
YobV  juasmcht,  fWWi;*,  rtiPd  ^rttft  flowSy  ft*Jt» 
You  tiTdnd  cntWtt  IT  tKfWti  the  MUft  te  ftAy» 
To  aop  her  fnfy,  <*  «rt^  hW  #iy. 
Thee  on  the  wihg  tft^  diMChWliS^  irtjg^i'Bw*! 

Tft  wjmieto  ft»^y»  <*  ft««*»««y  »*' 

S6  the  ftfttcii'd  cttr*!  ^he  fflitfklfe^dahceif  trte»i 
As  prone  to  fall,  as  impotent  to  rife  ; 
V^ich  freed  he  mnve«,  the  fltordy  ciMfebcn**, 
lie  mounts  with  plealVtte.  xrtd  ftcutc  defcewds  j 
N4W  dfopplrtg  fttms  to  Artke  tht  dfftint  gfOfcirtdf 
Now  high  in  air  his  qrtYtMh^  fftct  t^ltfMA* 

Rad  on.  ye  trlflen,  who  to  Wifl's  repair 
ror  hew  rampooAs.  fWffi  c4nf ♦  e*  i«wl«h  air  j 
Rail  oh  at  MUlbll'k  toW.  ^»h»  «ffefy  b«» 
R^MlMitt*^  phta«».  alidrrfii«e»  th«  oM  : 
Thus  Chaucer  lives  in  younger  8penfcr>  ftitins. 
In  Maro^  page  re^fvttg  Eftntas  frtgiw  ; 
The  ancMnc  vtorA  tlie  lAaHky  cMtiptetc, 
And  malcc  the  poerii  venleribly  great : 
So  when  the  queen  In  royal  habit's  dreftv 
Old  myftick  emblems  grace  W  iMpctlal  Wft^ 
AnT  tt  iHm*)i  fobM  aU  Aimt  ttttids>  cAtfArft. 

A  haughty  bard,  to  fame  by  volumes  raJs'd, 
At  Dlck't.  artd  «iUWfc'*,  aftd  threwgh  wMtMRrtl, 

praisM, 
Cries  out  alovd^<4«M  OxfbM  fattfd.  foi^ejr 
With  ftttfi*^  nnrtbert  to  tdnAent  ttiy  daf ; 
Yet  Aot^kb  thee  tM  he«vy  critlck  fawt. 
But  pahict  in  fMlan.  or  In  turn  floret ; 
With  Snnyan's  Ityle  prophages  herokk  ftfni^. 
To  liie  tenth  page  loan  homBle*  protoncs  i 
For  far-feech*d  rhymei  mtigot  poMkd  aageb 

fttain. 
And  In  low  profe  doll  Lucifer  compMn  ; 
Hh  envious  MUfe,  by  native  dulfieb  eorft, 
Damn^the^eft  pee«»,  Md  coMrhres  tbe  wwt* 

ttybad  hH  pra««  or  Mame  thy  woHtt  pfevaV 
Ofrtt^lcce  wher6  Drydeft  Mttfdiy  MUtoii  AH  f 
Great  MUton^s  win^  on  lower  themes  MiAdes, 
And  Dryden  olt  hi  rhyme  hb  wetkneft  hides; 
You  ne*er  with  Jhigfhtg  i»ords  deceive  the ctr. 
And  yet,  on  humble  fubjeds.  great  appear. 
*       Thrice  happy  youth,  whom  noble  Ws  crowril ! 
Vh\om  Blackmore  cenfnfci.andOodolphln  oWW : 
80  on  the  tuneful  Mar gWta**  tongue        ^^_ 
The  Hftcnlhg  nymphs  and  ravVhM  hKTaet  hWif  t 
But  cits  andibpt  the  heaven4)ord  nnifick  bWoMv 
And  bawl,  and  hift,  and  damn  her  toto  Ikiwc  i 
Vkt  her  fwcet  trolce.  la  thy  hannontodi  {<mg<, 
A«  high,  as  fwcet,  at  ^y,  «nd  «•  •••M* 


Oh  !  had  relenting  heaven  prolonged  hk  fcyt, 
•the  towering  bard  had  fung  ta  nobler  lays, 
How  the  U(\  trumpet  wakes  the  laay  dead. 
How  faints  aloft  the  ci«6  irfannphant  fpread  : 
How  openhxf  heav«att  theh  kappf  redoes  (how  i 
And  yawning  galphs  v^ith  flainliiK  »engcanctjto«; 
Jmd  faints  wjwice  •bove^aad  ttonexsbowl  bdon  . 
Well  might  he  fing  the  d^y  he  couW  not  fcai, 

And  patot  the  gloiies  he  was  tee  to  wear. 

Oh  bcft  of  fricnda,  will  ne»er  the  (Uent  ml 
fo  ow  juft  tdwa  th*  hapk»yo«iii  retur»f 
Mufl  he  no  more  divert  the  tedious  day  ? 
Hor  fparkfing  thomgW*  In  ftfttijuetrotdl  Cdfiiey? 
rwimrt  ti^hwiwniea  immf  6iMt^ 
T*^  Wtfy  fools  a  grate  attentioB  lend. 
Nor  merry  tales  with  leamM  quotatiotuMCTd f 
lifd  ihowr  h\  Wife  futhwkk  p(n^  ctt«#pW* 
Of  tidftfft  »iMie»  eHMWM»  sndi  hrr  dWaJn  i 
\i1ie now  ftMdl  godlike A«na*s  fame diffoft? 
Mull  (he.  when  molt  (he  merits,  want  a  mtftj^ 
\Wto  hbw  <mirT«ryWettt^erte«i^fa«»  •*•■' 
lt«#  li>t^te*i*ids  «*h^  d«|*or**bcfciil 
How,  whUe  the  troubled  elements  arDond, 
Earth,  water, ah,  the  ftunnihg dtrt  ftOMi; 
ThfOofih  ftreilna  rf  finoke,  and  adveifc  to,  le 

rides, 
WhUc  every  (hot  Is  IcvePa  at  Ms  (Met  f 
How,  ^.lle  the  MnUsg  0-tch  wo«>yi»% 
And  the  fain»d  Eaf^fBa'atam  Cfooparctkt, 
m  the  $tlt  Awit,amidA  a  flaugliter'd  pBc, 
High  on  Hic  rtoond  he  dy'd  near  peal  Afgpc- 

Wfiom  ftuU  1  find  unblafe*d  la  difpnt^ 
Eager  to  learn,  unwilling  to  confute  ? 
To  whom  the  Ubours  of  mf  Cool  difclolk. 
Reveal  my  plealbrt,  or  difeharge  my  woh  f 
Oh  I  in  that  heavenly  youth  fdf  evtf  eu« 
The  bea  of  fona,  of  brothen,  and  of  fittfiA* 
He  (acred  Friendlhip's  firiddl  laws  o^^*^ 
Yet  mure  byCo»ifcknCe  flun^bynwWMp  W*'^ 
Agalnft  htmftlf  hli  gratltndk  tnatttato-d. 
By  fAvonri  pafi,  Mt  mt^  pWQieai  gate's : 
Not  nlcfly  choofing,  thoui^h  by  all  dfc^^^^ 
Though  learned,  ndt  viln  ;  aatt  te«*.  «Wt^ 

adtnlr*d :  • 
Candid  to  all,  but  to  himlWf  fievere. 
In  humour  pliant,  as  in  life  aufterfc, 
A  wife  content  his  e?«n  foul  fecur^d. 
By  vraiit  Jiot  (haken.  nor  by  wealth  alWa. 
To  all  fioccre,  though  camcft  to  coAmeni, 
Coitfd  p*alfc  a  tivH,  or  tan6tmtu<^mL  ^ 
To  him  oldGrtoee  and^lwi*  wow  **;  rT? 
fhelrtettgo-^tlrtr  q**..  W  m*  MiH>» 

own:  .     .^ 

Our  authors'  works,  and  Uvea,  and  fonia,  he  ue«, 
Paid  to  the  learn'd  an*  ftcat  the  C»ej»*»; 
•Hie  one  Ws  pattens  and  tBe  one  his  tttf»  • 
With  equal  judgjnent  hb  <^««*J«***,-» 
Warm  Pindar's  rage,  and  fiudldS  realM  J<»* 
Judicious  phyflck's  noble  *rt  lo  g^ 
AU  drags  and  plants  explor'd,  ala^  »  ^i-,. 
The  dfugs  aftd  plants  tfteir  ««><^P*«*^2r  • 
Nor  toodncft  ho*,  not  teOfflUlt  dft|{«^*»» 


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POE-IRT. 


363 


Tet  to  the  bard  ha  ChorchUrs  Ibul  they  gave, 
And  au4e  iilmlboio  Um  lift  th«y  could  not  (ave : 


Xift. 

JM  ff^io,  hit  d$gU»g4tkm^t  lament  no  vf^am, 
IMn>Uy  hit  fame,  and  not  hit  fate  d^lore  j 
And  let  no  tean  from  eriing  pity  flow, 
For  one  that**  blett  above,  immortaUiM  bdew. 


VAVCIS   AN1>   PKlLCMOfi. 

On  the  evpr^menfed  lou  ff  the 
iwo  Yfw  Tree9j  in  the  parish  fif 
Chilthorne^  Somerset  J  \70S,  Im- 
itated from  the  eighth  boolc  of 
Ovid. 

BY   SWIFT. 

m  ancient  thnet,  as  ftory  tefU, 
The  fainti  would  often  leavetheir  cdk, 
And  ftroll  about,  but  litde  their  quality. 
To  tfyigood  people's  hofpttality. 

It  happen'd  on  a  winter-nightt 
As  authors  of  the  legend  write, 
Two  bsother-hermits,  (ainu  by  trad^, 
*i*ak]Q^  their  t9fir  in  mafqaerade, 
Difguis'd  in  tater*d  habiu,  went 
To  a  (mail  village  down  in  Kent ; 
Where,  in  the  ftroUers*  canting  fttain. 
They  beggld.fcom  door  to  door  in  vatih 
Tried  every  tooe  might  pity  win  ; 
But  not  a  foul  would  let  them  in- 


Our  wanderiag  faints,  in  woful  (late, 
Treated  at  ^his  ungodly  rate. 
Haying  through  all  the  village  paft. 
To  a  fmatl  cottage  caifie  at  lafl ! 
Where  dwelt  a  good  old  honcft  yc*inan,* 
Called  in  the  neighbourhood  Philemon  ; 
Who  kindly  did  thefe  faints  invite 
In  his  poor  hut  to  pafs  the  night ; 
And  then  the  hofpitable  lire 
Bid  goody  Baucis  mend  the  tire  ; 
While  he  from  out  the  chimney  took 
A  flitch  of  bacon  off  the  hook. 
And  ffeely  from  the  fatteft  fide 
Cut  out  large  flices  to  be  fry*d ; 
Thfen  dep'd  afide  to  fetch  them  drink, 
Fiird  a  large  jug  up  to  the  brinks 
And  faw  it  fairly  twice  go  round ; 
Yet  (what  is  wonderful  !)  they  found 
Twas  flill  replen4(h*d  to  the  top. 
As  if  they  ne*er  had  touch'd  a  drop. 
The  good  old  couple  were  am*E*d, 
And  often  on  each  other  gaz*d  ; 
For  both  were  frighten'd  to  the  heart, 
And  juft  began  to  cry,— What  af't ! 
Then  foftly  turned  afide  to  view 
Whether  the  lights  were^uming  Wue. 
The  gentle  pUgrimty  foon  aware  on*t. 
Told  them  their  ealling,  and  their  errand : 
Good  fblks^you  need  not  be  afruid. 
We  are  hwi  ffiintt^  the  hermits  faid ; 
No  hdrt  ihall  come  to  you  or  yours  : 
But  for  that  pack  of  churli(h  boors, 
Not  fit  to  live  on  Chriftian  ground. 
They  and  their  houfes  (hall  be  drown*d  ; 
Whilft  you  (hall  fee  your  cottage  rife. 
And  grow  a  church  before  your  eyes. 

They  fcarce  h^  (poke,  when  fair  and 
foft 
The  roof  b^gan  to  mount  aloft ; 
Aloft  Eofe  every  beam  and  rafter ; 
The  heavy  ^^\  climbed  flowly  after. 

The  chimney    widen*d,   and    grcir 
higher, 
Became  a  (leeple  with  a  fplre. 

The  kettle  to  the  top  was  hoKl, 
And  there  (lood  fa(tened  to  a  joift. 
But  with  the  upfide  down,  to  fliow 
Its  inclinatiop  for  below  : 
In  vain  ;  for  a  fuperiour  force, 
Apply*d  at  bottom,  (tops  iu  courfe  : 


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864 


FOETRT. 


Doom*d  ever  in  fufpcnce  to  dwell, 
*Ti8  DOW  no  kettle,  but  a  bell. 

A  wooden  jack,  which  had  almofl 
l^a  by  difufe  the  art  to  roaft, 
A  Hidden  alteration  feels, 
IncreaTed  by  new  inteOine  wheels ; 
And,  what  exalts  the  wonder  more. 
The  number  made  the  motion  flower; 
The  flier,  though  *t  had  leaden  feet, 
Tuffl'd  roun4  fo  quick,  you  fcarce  could 

fec't ; 
But  flacken*d  by  (bme  fccret  power, 
Now  hardly  moves  an  inch  an  hour. 
The  jack  and  chimney,  near  ally*d. 
Had  never  left  each  other's  fide : 
The  chimney  to  a  fleeple  grown. 
The  jack  would  not  be  left  alone; 
But,  up  againd  the  (leeple  rear*d. 
Became  a  dock  and  (liU  adhcr*d  ; 
And  ftill  its  love  to  houfehold  cares, 
By  a  (hrill  voice  at  noon  declares. 
Warning  the  cook-maid  not  to  bum 
That  roafl-meat  whicl^  it  cannot  turn« 

The  groaning-chair  began  to  crawl,  - 
Like  a  huge  ihail,  along  the  wail  ^ 
There  ftuck  aloft  ip  publick  view. 
And  with  fmali  change  a  pulpit  grew. 

The  porringers,  that  in  a  row 
Hung  high,  and  made  ^  glittering  fhow. 
To  a  lefs  noble  fubdance  chang'd;^^ 
Were  now  but  leathern  buckets  rang*d. 

The  ballads,  p^^ded  on  the  wall. 
Of  Joan  of  France,  and  Englifh  Moll, 
Fair  Rofamond,  and  Robin  Hood, 
The  Little  Children  in  tlie  Wood, 
Nowfeemcd  to  look  abundance  better, 
Improv*d  in  pi<5lure,  fizc,and  letter"; 
And,  high  in  order  placed,  defcribe   . 
The  heraldry  of  every  tribe. 

A  beddead  of  the  antique  mode, 
Compadt  of  timber  many  a  load. 
Such  as  our  ancedors  did  ufe, 
Was  metamorphos*d  into  pews  ; 
Which  Aill  their  ancient  nature  keep 
By  lodging  folks  difpofcd  to  flcep. 

The  cottage  by  fuch  feats  as  thefe 
Grown  to  a  church  by  juft  degrees. 
The  hermits  then  defir'd  their  hod 
To  aik  for  what  be  fancy 'd  mod. 


Philemon,  having  paused  a  while* 
Retum*d  them  thanks  in  bomdy  ftyle : 
Then  faid,  My  houfe  is  grown  fo  fine, 
Methinks  I  dill  would  call  it  mine  ; 
I  'm  old,  and  fain  would  live  at  eaie; 
Make  me  the  ^rfin  if  yoy  pleafe. 
He  fpoke  and  prefently  he  feels 
His  grazier's  coat  fall  down  his  heels  : 
He  fees,  yet  hardly  can  believe. 
About  each  arm  a  pudding-fleeve  i 
His  waidcoat  to  a  cafibck  gtew. 
And  both  aflum*d  a  fable  hue  ; 
But,  being  old,  continued  jud 
As  thread-bare,  and  as  full  of  duft. 
His  talk  was  now  of  titbet  and  dues  .* 
He  fmok'd  his  pipe,  and  read  the  news ; 
Knew  how  to  preach  old  fermons  next, 
Vamp*d  in  the  preface  and  the  text ; 
At  chridenings  well  could  ^uSt  his  party 
And  had  the  lervice  all  by  heart ; 
Widi'd  women  might  have  childrea  lad, 
And  thought  whofe  fow  had  £uTow*d 

lad; 
A^ufidiffaitart  would  repin^. 
And  dood  up  firm  for  ri^  £vi»e ; 
Found  his  head  fiird  with  many  a  fydem : 
But  cla0ic  authors, — ^he  ne*er  miis*d  *em. 

Thus  having  furbidi'd  up  a  parfon, 
Pame  Baucis  next  they  play*d  their  ftfce 

on. 
Indead  of  home-fpvin  coifs,  were  feeo 
bood  pinners  edg*d  with  colbert^en  ; 
Her  petticoat,  tran«form*d  apace. 
Became  black  fattin  flounc'd  with  lace. 
Plain  Goody  would  no  longer  down  ; 
*Twas  Madam,  in  her  grogram  gown. 
Philemon  was  in  great  furprize, 
And  hardly  could  believe  his  eyes, 
Ainaz*d  to  fee  her  look  fo  prim  ; 
And  fhe  admir'd  as  much  at  him. 

Thus  happy  i(i  their  change  of  life 
Were  feveral  years  this  man  and  wife ; 
When  on  a  day,  which  prov*d  their  lad, 
Difcourfing  o*er  old  dories  pad. 
They  went  by  chance,  amidd  their  talk. 
To  the  church-yard  to  take  a  walk; 
^^en  Baucis  hafbly  cry*d  out, 
My  dear,  I  fee  your  forehead  fproot ! 


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POETRY. 


365 


Sprout !  quoth  the  map ;  vhat*f  this  you 

tell  U6  ? 
I  hope  you  don*t  believe  me  jealous  ! 
But  yet,  methinks,  I  feel  it  true  ; 
And  really  yours  is  budding  too— 
Nayy:— pow  I  cannot  ftir  my  foot ; 
It  feels  as  if  'twere  taking  root. 

Defcriptlon  would  but  tire  my  Mufjp ; 
In  {hort/  they  both  were  tum*d  to  yewt. 
Old  Goodman  Dobfon  of  the  green 
Remembers,  he  the  trees  has  feen ; 
He*ll  talk  of  them  from  noon  till  night 
And  goes  with  folks  to  fliew  the  fight ; 
On  Sundays,  after  evening-prayer, 
He  gathers  all  the  parish  there  ; 
Points  out  the  place  of  either ^rar ; 
Here  Baucis,  there  Philemon,  grew: 
Till  once  a  parfon  of  our  town, 
To  mend  his  bam,  cut  Baucis  down  ; 
At  which  'tis  hard  tabe  believed 
How  much  the  other  tree  was  griev*d, 
Grew  fcrabbed,  dy'd  a  top,  was  fhmted; 
So  the  next  parfon  ftubb'd  and  burnt  it. 


THE  JACKDAW. 

A  Fable. 

BY     COWPER. 


THERE  is  ?  bird,  who,  by  his  coat, 
And  by  the  hoarseness  of  his  note. 

Might  be  suppos'd  a  crow  ; 
A  great  frequenter  of  the  church, 
VThere,  bishop-like,  he  finds  a  perch 

And  dormitory  too. 

2 
Above  the  steeple  shines  a  plate, 
Ttiat  turns  and  turns,  to  indicate 

Frmn  what  point  blows  the  weather* 
Look  up — your  brains  begin  to  swim, 
Tis  an  the  clouds — that  pleases  him, 

He  chooses  it  the  rather. 


Fond  of  the  speculative  height, 
Thither  he  wings  his  airy  flight, 
And  tfaeoce  securely  tte* 


The  bustle  and  the  raree-show 
That  occupy  mankind  below. 
Secure,  and  at  his  ease. 

4 
You  think,  no  doubt,  he  sits  and  muses 
On  future  broken  bones  and  bruises. 

If  he  should  chance  to  fall. 
No  ;  not  a  single  thought  like  that 
Employs  his  philosophick  pate, 

Or  uoubles  it  at  all 

5 
He  sees,  that  this  great  roundabout— 
The  world  with  all  its  motley  rout. 

Church,  army,  physick,  law, 
Its  customs,  and  its  bus*nesse# 
}»  no  concern  at  all  of  his. 

And  says—what  says  he  ? — caw. 

6 
Thrice  happy  bird  !  I  too  have  seen 
Much  of  the  vanities  of  men  : 

And,  sick  of  having  seen  'em, 
Would  cheerfully  these  limbs  resign 
For  such  a  pair  of  wings  as  thip^, 

And  such  a  head  between  'eip. 


PARALLELS 

The  flowery  lap 

Of  fome  irriguous  valley  fpread  her  (lore, 
Flowers  of  all  hue  and  without  thorn  the 

rofe. 
Another  fide,  umbrageous  grots  and  caves. 
Of  cool  recefs,  o*er  which  the  mantl&ig 

vine 
Lays  forth  her  purple  grapi;,  and  gently 

creeps 
Luxuriant :   meanwhile  murmuring  wa* 

tersfall 
Down  the  flope  hills,  difperfed,  or  ii)  « 

hike. 
That  to  the  ftinged  bank  with  myrtle 

crowned 
Her  chryftal  mirror  holds,  um'te  their 

(hreams. 
The  birds  their  quire  apply ;  airs,  vemaf 

airs. 


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366 


rotxny. 


Breathing  tltf  inuJl  pf  field  And,gro«e, 

attune 
TThc  trembliDg  leaves*. Miltok. 

Andbroad-Ieavcd  Zennan  in  long  colo- 
iiades 
Ccfcithed  Mi|:b^l  watlei, 
'Where  round  Aeir  fenialBKhe  thouland- 

ceadrilcdmt 
Wound  .«|i  and  liMS  ^^  ^^   ^'^'^ 
•    greener  HEMHthi* 
And  clufters  not  their  own. 
Wearied  with  endlefs  beauty  did  hli  cyet 
Return  for  refl  ?   BeHde  him  tcen>t  the 

earth 
With  tuHps,  Hkt  the   ruddy    evening 

ftreaked. 
And  here  thelily  hangs  her  head  of  fnow. 

And  here  amid  her  Table  cup 
Shines  the  red  eye-^t,  like  one  brighteft 

HaTt 
The  folitary  twiokler  of  the  night* 
/iad  here  the  wCe  «^mida 
Her}NBradU(e4>f  leavo. 

Then  tm  his  ear  ^ifiat  fotmAs 
Of  liarrttony  arc^Te ! 
far  mufick  and  the  diftance-mellowed 
fong 
From  bowers  of  merriment ; 
The  water-fall  remote  ; 
The  mSrmufiag  of  theJeafy  groves ; 
The  fingle  nightingale, 
Perch^  in  the  rofier  by,  fo  richly  toned, 
Thatnever  from  that  moft  melodious  bird, 
^io^ing  a  lovo-fon^  to  his  brooding  mate. 
Did  Thracian  fliepherd  by  the  grave 
t>f  OrphMu  hear  a  fweeter  fong  i 
Tlioagh  ibeoe  the  fpirit  of  the  fiqpulchre 
All  his  own  power  laMe,  to  fwell 
^The  iMCBfe  UuR  he  lovn. 

SOUTRET. 

....  Pilafters  round 
Vftre  fet,and  Boric  pillars  overlaid 
With  yoldf  n  architrave ;  n»r  did  there 

want 
Contict  or  f rkxe,  with  b9%  ibolptiices 

graven ; 
^  roof  was4x«tt«d  fpld^^-The^iipfod- 

ing  pile 


Stoodv  fi^ed   her  ftaUly  height ;  «d 

ftraight  the  doocs. 
Opening  their  brazen  folds,  difcovcr  wide 
Within  her  ample  fpaces  o'er  the  (mooth 
And  level  pavement    From  the  arched 

roof. 
Pendent  by  fubtle  magick,many  a  row 
Of  ftarry  lamps  and  bla;cing  creffets,  fied 
With  Ktphiha  end  lUphahus,  yidded 

Kght 
As  ftom  •  Hby. . . . 


There  sMndd  <ofaum -oW  Aht  sniiMs 


Fling  their  gfcaatufit  AS  when  avid  i 

ihower 

Theiau»49iiiiOklavelteftoMheveniaIcoa. 

HereShedadhadethef;WpbiseilMrhtM 

Ae  though  with  leet  diwine 

To  teeflif  le  n/mwt  lafht. 

Ililge^tfaeblweiiBveflMeiit  ef  ihetfiraiaM* 

Here  ielf«fn%>ettded  hnfsse  er, 
Aaks  pure  fuhOuice  liMthfd  mtuM 
touch. 
The  living  orfoancle ; 
Sun  of  the  lofty  dome, 
Darkndfs  has  no  domtinon  o*er*k$  hnm ; 
Intenfe  it  glows,  an  ever-flowing  tide 
Of  glory,  like  the  day-flood  in  its  fooite. 
SomnBT. 

He.fothvnth  foeM  tht  g^iaeaeg  M 

unfivl*d 
The  imperial  enfign,  which,  ^  Uf^ 

advancedf 
Shgne  like  «  meieor  ftfciunisg  to4ke 

wind. 
With  gems  and  golden  luftre  ridi  tn> 

blazed, 
Seraplud^  enns  md  ^nfkin 

MltTAi. 

Lo,  where  the  holy  banner  erai^  **• 
The  lambent  lightnings  played.    Irtadt^ 

ate  round, 
As  with  a  blaze  of  glory,  o'er  the  field 
tt  (Ireaova  nirpevlMa'^ple^ow. 

699TI|Cf* 


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THE  BOSTON  REVIEW, 

For    JULY,     1806. 
Mtrarer.    Nam  ego  dkcre  v«nim  asmttl.     Neque  ulU  padcDthur  rq)rehendunttzr,  quaun  qui* 


ARTICLE  39. 
Mw^York  Term  RefiorU  ^f  comcm 
argued  and  determined  in  the 
Smfireme  Court  of  that  stale. 
By  George  Cainesj  couneelior  at 
.  iavf^  and  refiorter  to  the  atate. 
M  three  volumes  ;  from  May^ 
l«03,  /•  Mru.  1 805.  New-York, 
printed  for^  and  sold  by  Isaac 
fiiley  &  Co. 

W«  congratulate  the  profession 
tpon  the  appearance  of  these  vdI-> 
limes,  as  we  have  no  doubt  that 
their  utilky  will  be  generally  ac- 
knowledged. The  reporter,  in 
his  pre&ce,  liiakes  some  pertinent 
observations  upon  the  importance 
of  his  ofBce,  the  propriety  of  which 
^ill  be  fully  felt.  VVe  were  here 
sorry  to  observe  a  violation  of 
grammar,  a  blot  which  does  not 
often  stain  the  pages  of  the  report- 
er. Preface,  pae^e  5.  «  And  the 
bar  has  generously  and  frankly  af** 
forded  their  cases,**  &c.  Updn 
perusing  these  volumes,  every 
reader,  who  has  any  pretensions 
to  the  character  of  a  lawyer,  will 
acknowledge  the  superiority  of  the 
^stem  of  jurisprudence  in  New- 
Tork,  to  most  others  in  the  United 
States.  We  speak  of  the  English 
nisi  firius  system.  When  Af e  per- 
ceive how  Favourable  it  is  at  once 
to  the  utmost  deliberation,  and  to 
the  greatest  economy  and  expe- 
dition, it  is  difficult  to  tell  why  the 
good  people  of  our  country  should 
so  lopg  oppose  its  introduction, 
fevery  lawyer  knows,  that  in  a  sci- 
ence «o  technical  as  iiis  ^  a  science 


composed  very  much  of  mlest 
made  and  adhered  to  more  from 
the  necessity  of  having  a  rule,  than 
from  any  intrtnsick  propriety  in 
the  rule  itself  J  a  science,  which 
embraces  ahnost  the  whole  extent 
of  human  action,  there  can  be  nei- 
ther accuracy  nor  safety  in  the  de- 
cisions of  a  judge,  who  has  not 
much  time  for  deliberation,  and 
alf  the  Hghts  wlrich  books  can 
give.  The  maxim  of  a  laTfyer 
should  be,  via  trita^  via  tuta.  The 
aids  of  genius  alone,  in  such  a  sci- 
ence, will  not  stifflce,  and  the  man 
who  follows  them  wifl  soon  find 
himself  bewildered  and  tost.  For 
the  trial  of  a  simple  or  a  compfi- 
cated  question  of  feet,  (no  other 
question  should  ever  be  definitive- 
ly settled  upon  a  trial)  our  own  ex- 
perience has  shown,  that  one  jndgr 
is  more  fit  than  half  a  dozen,  or 
than  a  Roman  court  of  jndices  se- 
lect! would  be,  composed  even  of 
such  men  as  Hortensios  and  Cicero. 
In  reading  the  reports  of  Amer-' 
ican  decisions,  we  too  often  have 
to  lamem  frequent  differences  in 
the  opinions  of  the  judges.  In 
these  volumes  we  find  the  same 
cause  for  regret.  In  a  coimtry 
like  ours,  we  know  of  no  remedy 
for  the  evil.  In  some  states  the 
office  of  a  judge  is  elective,  in  alt 
it  is  considered,  more  or  less,  as 
a  round  on  the  ladder  of  power, 
fi^om  which  the  judge  can  exhibit 
himself  most  efectuafly  for  the 
admiration  and  approtetion  of  tlft 
titizens.  Hence  the  frequent 
changes  in  our  courts  \   so  great 


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NKtV-YORK   TERM    REPORTS. 


are  thef ,  that  no  man,  for  ten 
years  together,  can  know  the  court 
from  any  personLil  identity. 

As  to  the  general  execution  of 
these  reports,  the  cases  are  stated 
with  brevity,  with  method,  and 
perspicuity.  The  arguments  of 
counsel  are  giveft  much  in  the 
manner  of  the  modem  English  re** 
porters.  Jt  may  be  thoilght,  that 
many  of  them  are  given  more  dif- 
fusely than  was  necessary.  Still, 
when  the  lawyer  considers,  how 
much  the  frequent  citing  of  cases 
facilitates  his  labours,  and  refresh- 
es his  memory,  he  will  have  noth- 
ing to  regret  on  this  head.  The 
mere  name  of  a  case  has  often 
saved  ihuch  precious  time,  and 
many  a  laborious  search.  For 
these  reasons  every  lawyer  will  be 
indebted  to  the  reporter  for  his 
notes  and  marginal  references,  in 
which  many  authorities,  illustrat- 
ing the  point  in  controversy,  are 
cited.  In  cases,  where  the  author- 
ity only  is  cited  by  the  counsel,  the 
name  of  the  case  is  mentioned  in 
the  margin.  Every  professional 
man,  who  knows  how  mechanical 
is  his  science,  and  how  important 
to  the  memory  are  such  aids,  will 
feci  the  full  value  of  them.  From 
tliis  general  approbation,  we  are 
sorry  to  make  any  deductions.  In 
some  instances  there  is  failure  of 
attention,  aiKl  in  some  a  want  of 
accuracy.  It  is  at  least  the  duty 
of  a  reporter  to  exhibit  the  coun- 
sel in  a  decent  garb,  however 
slovenly  they  may  themselves  con- 
sent to  appear.  A  filthy,  or  a  tat- 
tered dress  is  neither  decorous  nor 
dignified  before  the  most  respect- 
able tribunal  in  the  state. .  If  the 
reporter  had  bestowed  a  little  more 
labour  upon  his  reports,  there 
would  not  be  found  such  instances 
of  awkwardness,  inaccuracy,  and 
bad  grammar  as  the  following, 
which  are  among  the  very  many 


we  have  noticed.     VoL  I.  page 

398.  "  neither  party  have  a  right" 
— «*  the  sale  of  the  premises  was 
merely  heai'say."  In  addition  to 
this,  we  observe,  that  some  of  the 
marginal  statements  are  incorrect, 
and  some  unintelligible.  Vd.  I. 
page  450,  Given  vs,  Driggs,  the 
marginal  statement  is  wholly  un- 
intelligible. Vol.  II.  188.  'Frost 
et  al.  v9,  Raymond,  from  which 
it  would  seem,  that  it  was  deter- 
mined by  the  court,  that  the  word 
"  dede,**  in  a  conveyance  deriYed 
from  the  statute  of  uses,  contam- 
ed  an  implied  covenant.  The  re- 
porter tells  us  in  his  preface,  that 
in  most  cases  he  received  the 
written  opinions  of  the  court ;  of 
course  he  is  not  responsible  for  the 
defects  of  their  manner  or  matter. 
It  is  impossible  not  to  perceive, 
that  they  might,  in  many  instan- 
ces, be  curtailed,  to  the  great  ad- 
vantage of  many  a  weary  eye  and 
many  an  aching  head.  The  style 
of  the  opinions  is  generally  cor- 
rect, and  lawyer-like.  In  Ameri- 
ca, however,  every  man,  from  the 
lowest  to  the  highest,  seems  to 
consider,  that,  with  the  charter  of 
his  freedom,  he  has  derived  an 
exemption  from  all  the  ancient 
penalties,  which  were  inflicted  up- 
on the  slovenly  murderers  of  his 
majesty's  English.  That  the 
learned  judges  in  the  state  of  New- 
York  'are  not  unmindful  of  their 
liberties  the  following  instances 
will  shew.  Vol.  I.  p.  274,  «  be- 
cause the  court  overruled  certain 
objections yrom  being  putT  Vol. 
I.  p.  315,  "if  the  award  in  ques- 
tion be  good  and  valid  in  pursuance 
of  tlie  submission,  it  may  undoubt- 
edly be  given  or  pleaded  in  rd- 
dencer  Vpl.  II.  p.  45,  "  tolarreit 
the  goods  ^omthe  vendoi*  under 
these  circumstances,"  &c.  Vol. 
III.  p.  93,  Court—"  the  verdict 
was  clearly  against  the  weight  of 


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VXSftVDEir'ft  POEMS. 


369 


evfakncei  and  rukd  wrtmg  by  the 
jttdgc.**  We  were  sorry  to  ob- 
serve u>  Vol.  III.  p.  180,  in  the 
opiiuQn  pf  Justice  Livin^ton,  so 
muqh  pl^as^try  at  the  expense 
of  di^ty  and  decorum.  Humour 
is  a  very  good  thing,  but  it  no  more 
becomes  the  legal  robe  upon  the 
beqph>  than  the  sacerdotal  at  the 
altar.  We  were  not  less  disa- 
gree^ly  impressed  by  the  posi- 
tive and  dogmatical  manner,  in 
wivich  the  same  judge  gives  his 
opinion,  after  that  of  the  chief 
justice,  which  was  different,  in 
Yql.  II.  p.  286.  AJl  these  defects, 
however,  are  but  small  excres- 
cences upon  a  surface  generally 
smooth  and  polished.  The  close 
general  adherence  to  English  au- 
thorities and  precedents  ;  the  nu- 
merous commercial  and  general 
cases,  which  vnW  afford  information 
and  argument,  if  not  authority,  to 
the  profession  in  every  state  ;  the 
great  industry  and  investigation 
dbplayed  by  the  court,  and  its  ex- 
tensive learning,  not  only  in  com- 
mercial law,  but  in  the  whole  cir- 
cle of  law,  ancient  and  modem, 
foreign  and  domestick,  will  render 
these  reports  a  valuable  acqiiisition 
to  the  country'  at  large.  These 
volumes  will  be  less  valuable  to 
the  profession  generally,  on  ac- 
count of  the  numerous  cases  upon 
practice,  with  which  they  are 
crowded.  But  this  was  unavoid- 
able. It  is  the  business  of  a  re- 
porter, for  the  information  of  prac- 
titioners,  to  report  every  case, 
however  unimportant  it  mav  be, 
in  deciding  general  principles. 
There  ape '  several  ca3es  particu- 
larly de^rving  notice,  as  deciding 
Important  principles.  The  case 
of  Hitchcock  iff,  Aiken,  Vol.  I. 
{>.  460,  in  which  it  was  decided, 
that  the  judgment  of  a  Ibreign 
•tate  should  not  be  considered  as 
a  domestick  judgment,  but  as 
Vol.  HI.  No.  T.    2Y 


prima  facte  evidence  of  4ebt  only, 
is  infiportant  in  this  point  of  view. 
Some,  perhaps  may  doubt  of  th^ 
correctness  of  the  decision,  when 
tested  by  the  constitution,  but  none 
Brill  hesitate  to  acknowledge  the 
practical  propriety  and  utility  of 
the  doctrine,  if  it  can  be  recoQ<- 
cUed  with  the  constitution.  Iii 
the  case  of  Nash  v«.  Tupper,  Vol. 
I.  p.  402,  it  was  determined  that 
in  a  suit  upon  a  Ibreign  contract, 
the  statute  of  limitation  of  the 
state  of  New-York  should  govern. 
There  are  many  other  cases  of 
gentayal  utility. 


AET.  30. 

Original  Poems :  By  Thomas  Green 
Fessendeuy  Esq,  author  of  Tcr-- 
rible  Tractoration^  or  Caustic'^ 
petition  to  the  Royal  College  qf 
Physicians^  and  Democracy  Un^ 
veiled.  Philadelphia  :  printed 
at  the  Lorenzo  Press  of  E.Bron-* 
son,  1806,  \/i/i.204.  \2mo. 

TiiB  author  of  these  poem» 
has  been  singularly  fortunate  in 
receiving  that  applause,  which  ha3 
sometimes  been  denied  to  others 
of  equal  merit.  This  mode  of 
publishing  a  collection  of  occa- 
sional poems,  many  of  which  have 
appeared  in  the  new&papers  of  the 
day,  may  be  the  means  of  attain- 
ing present  notoriety,  but  will 
hardly  secure  future  fame.  The 
author  writes  with  ease,  or,  at 
least,  easy  verses.  But  he  is  un- 
fortunate in  the  repubiicatlon  St 
many  of  the  political  satires.  They 
are  well  enough  for  the  momeni, 
but  the  pubHck  absolutely  nauseate 
the  repeated  accounts  of  obscure, 
factious  individuals,  who  rise  and 
perish?  in  the  progress  of  paity, 
like  Fungi  on  a  dungheap. 

The  extracts  from  reviews,  at 
the  end  of  tlie  volume,  the  author 


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370 


UNDERWOOD   ON    DISEASES. 


should  not  have  permitted  the 
printer  to  have  published  ;  they  ^ 
TTere  allowable,while  the  latter  was 
announcing  the  work,  to  influence 
its  sale,  but  an  author  should  not 
thus  violate  all  decency  and  deco- 
rum in  binding  up  his  own  praises 
vith  his  works.  The  insolent 
condescension  in  one  of  these  par- 
agraphs is  amusing. 

We  prefume  thU  writer  to  be  an  A- 
merican ;  and,  confideriog  the  flate  of 
literature  in  that  country,  his  produc- 
tions are  quite  as  good  as  could  be  ex- 
pedtcd  from  one  of  its  natives.  His  fe- 
rious  produiftions  arc,  upon  the  whole, 
the  beft  ;  ftill  he  is,  by  no  means,  defti- 
tute  of  humour.         Critical  R^viev;, 

Though  the  humorous  pieces 
predominate,  the  author  will  de- 
rive as  much  lasting  applause  from 
those  which  are  serious.  We  ex- 
tract a  sapphick,  not  because  it  is 
superiour  to  the  rest,  but  as  a  f^up 
specimen  of  the  Mork,  and  it  de- 
scribes an  amusement  which  is 
«  all  the  rage.** 

Horace  SurpafTcd  :  or,  a  beautiful  defcriptfon  of 
a  New -England  Country-Dance. 

How  funny  *t\s  when  pretty  lads  and  lafles 
Meet  all  together,  juft  to  have  a  caper. 
And  the  black  fiddler  playi  you  fuch  a  tune  as 
Sets  you  a  frUking. 

VSfih  bucks  and  ladies,  ftandUig  in  a  row  all. 
Make  finer  Ihow  than  troop*  of  continentals. 
Balance  and  foot  it,  rigadoon  and  chaflTee, 
Brimliil  of  rapture. 

Thus  poets  tett  us  how  one  Mltter  Orphem 
Led  a  rude  foreft  to  a  coontry-daoce,  and 
Play»d  tlie  briUc  tunc  of  Yankee  Doodle  on  a 
New  Holland  fiddle. 

Spruce  our  gallants  arc,  effenc'd  with  pomatum. 
Heads  powdcr'd  white  as  KflUngton-Peak  fiiow- 

ftorm : 
Ladies,  how  brilliant,  fkfcinating  creatures. 
All  filk  and  muOin  ! 

But  now  behold  a  fad  reverfe  of  fortune, 
Lifc*«  brightetl  fccnes  are  checkered  with  difafter, 
Clumiy  Charles  Clumfoot  treads  on  Tabby's 
gown,  and 

Tears  aU  the  tail  off  I 

Stop,  flop  the  fiddler,  all  away  this  racket— 
Hartthorn  and  water  !  fee  the  ladies  fainting, 
taler  than  priinrofe,  fluttering  aboftt  like 

Pigeons  affrighted  I 


Not  fuch  the  tnrm<tf ,  when  the  ftordy  Ikmer 
Sees  turbid  whirlwinds  beat  his  oats  Sc  rye  down» 
And  the  rude  hail-ftones,  big  a«  piftol-bidlcts, 
Oalh  in  his  windows  f 

Though  *twss  unhappy,  never  fcem  to  mind  it. 
Bid  punch  and  (herry  circulate  the  biHker ; 
Or,  hi  a  bumper  flowing  with  Mad^a, 

Drown  the  misfortune. 

WUly  Wagnknble  dandng  with  FlirtUIa, 
Almoit  as  light  as  a'u-bolloon  inflated, 
Ri^adoons  round  her,  tUl  the  lady's  heart  Is 
Forc'd  to  furrender. 

Benny  Bamboozle  cuts  the  drolleft  capers, 
jua  like  a  camel,  or  a  bippopot'mos. 
Jolly  Jack  Jumble  makes  as  big  a  rout  as 

Forty  Dutch  horOcs  I 

See  Angelina  lead  the  maxy  dance  down, 
Kcver  did  fairy  trip  it  fo  fanUtUck  ; 
How  my  heart  flutters,  while  my  tongue  pro- 
nounces. 

Sweet  little  ferapb ! 

«uch  are  the  joys  that  flow  from  country-daodoc* 
Pure  as  the  primal  happincis  of  Eden, 
Wine,  mhth,  and  mufick,  k'mdlc  in  accordance 
Raptures  escutick. 

The  description  of  "  Tabitha 
Tovizex^  page  130,  is  an  excellent 
burlesque  :  the  writer  is  very  suc- 
cessful and  very  meritorious,  when 
describing  American  village  man- 
ners, in  making  allusions  to  the 
objects  and  scenery  peculiar  to  his 
country.  We  venture  to  advise 
Mr.  Fessenden  to  seek  a  little 
more  variety  in  his  versification, 
to  sometimes  adopt  the  style  of 
Colman  ;  above  all,  to  study  the 
bewitching  naivete,  the  unequalled 
graces  of  La  Fontaine. 


ART.  31. 
A  TreatUe  on  (he  diseaueB  of  child' 
ren^  and  inanagemeni  of  infant* 
from  the  hirui.  By  Michael 
Undervfoodj  M.  D,  Published 
by  David  West,  Boston.  Pzilit- 
ed  by  D.  Carlisle.     8t;o. 

THIS  is  indisputably  the  most 
complete  account  of  the  diseases 
of  children  in  the  English  lan- 
guage. Dr.Underwood  writes  like 
a  practitioner,  who  has  verified  cvr 
evei7  thing  he  asserts  by  his  own 


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HOLMESS   AMERICAN   ANNALS. 


371 


.  experiences  and  he  may  therefore 
be  relied  on,  so  far  as  his  remarks 
extend.  This  form  of  the  work 
is  destined  for  domestick  use,  and 
we  recom^niend  the  perusal  of  it 
to  fathers  and  mothers.  Not,  in- 
deed, that  they  should  employ  it 
to  play  the  quack  upon  their  own 
children  ;  for  those  unfortunates, 
who  have  mothers  that  give  med- 
icine, are  almost  invariably  un- 
healthy, and  tiie  greatest  part  per- 
ish in  early  life.  But  we  offer  this 
book  to  aid  the  obliteration  of  vul- 
gar prejudices,  to  point  out  to  pa- 
rents the  symptoms  of  indisposi- 
tion which  should  alarm  them,  and 
above  all,  to  instruct  them  by  what 
management  of  diet  and  regimen 
their  offspring  are  to  be  rendered 
healthy 9  vigorous,  and  beautiful. 

The  execution  of  this  edition 
appears  to  excel  that  of  any  med- 
ical book,  which  has  been  printed 
in  Boston.  In  typographical  cor- 
rectness it  equals  the  English  edi- 
tion, to  which,  in  other  respects, 
it  is  decidedly  superiour. 


ART.  21. 
Concluded  from  p.  itfo. 

American  jinnaU  ;  or  a  chronologic 
cal  history  qf  America,  ByAbicl 
Holmesy  D.  D. 

Whbrever  the  Spanish  inva- 
ders trod,  their  footsteps  were 
marked  with  blood.  In  this  all 
writers  agree,  such  as  were  eye- 
witnesses, and  relate  an  unvarnish- 
ed tale,  and  such  as  paint  in  the 
strongest  colours.  They  all  like- 
wise describe  the  pusillanimous 
conduct,  the  vile  superstitions,  and 
cruel  customs  of  the  Mexicans. 
We  shall  quote  a  passage  from  Dr. 
Holmes's  Annals,  which  breathes 
an  evangelical  spirit,  and  shows 
something  like  political  reflection. 


P.  58.  "  Why  did  Montezuma 
admit  Cortes  into  his  capital,  and 
subject  himself  to  the  grossest  in- 
dignities, when  he  might  unquest- 
ionably have  expelled,  if  not  an- 
nihilated, his  army  ?  Antonio 
De  Solis,  the  Spanish  historio- 
grapher, says  :  "  The  very  ef- 
fects of  it  have  since  discov- 
ered, that  God  took  the  reins 
into  Ins  own  hand  on  purpose  to 
tame  that  monster  ;  making  his 
unusual  gentleness  instrumental 
to  tlie  first  introduction  of  the 
Spaniards,  a  beginning  from  whence 
afterward  reaiUtcd  the  converaion  of 
those  heathen  nations.^  Conquest 
Mexico,  ii.  141.  We  ought  to 
adore  that  Providence,  which  we 
cannot  comprehend  ;  but  it  Is  im- 
pious to  insult  it  by  assigning 
such  reasons  for  its  measures,  as 
are  contradicted  by  facts.  The 
natural  causes  of  the  abject  sub- 
mission of  Montezuma  may  per- 
haps be  traced  to  a  long  and  tradi- 
tionary expectation  of  the  subjec- 
tion of  the  Mexican  empire  to  a 
foreign  power  ;  to  the  predictions 
of  soothsayers,  with  their  exposi- 
tions of  recent  and  present  omens ; 
to  the  forebodings  of  a  supersti- 
tious mind  ;  to  the  astonishment 
excited  by  the  view  of  a  new  race 
of  men  with  unknown  and  sur- 
prising implements  of  war  ; 
and  to  the  extraordinary  success 
of  the  Spanish  arms  from  the  first 
moment  of  the  arrival  of  Cortes  on 
the  Mexican  coast.** 

One  cause  more  substantial 
should  be  assigned,  which  has  has- 
tened the  downfal  of  many  other 
nations,  viz.  the  arbitrary  and  cruel 
proceedings  of  a  tyrant  towards 
the  various  nations  subject  to  his 
power.  How  many  thousand  of 
the  natives  of  this  region  were  in 
the  army  of  Cortes,  compared 
with  the  few  Spaniards  that  were 


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372 


ttOLMES'k  AlUkfilCklS  ahitalI. 


'With  him  !  He  h^d  uncotnmon  sa- 
gacity, as  well  as  valour,'  and 
made  the  best  use  of  their  hatred 
to  serve  his  purposes.  They  wish- 
ed to  humble  the  proud  monarch, 
•who  could  shake  his  rod  over 
them  for  his  amusement,  as  well 
as  to  gratify  his  rage  ;  and  by 
their  assistance  he  overthrew  the 
Mexican  empire. 

We  shall  quote  another  passage 
from  the  American  Annals,  which 
ought  to  be  compared  with  the  re- 
flection of  Antonio  de  Solis. 

"In  1551.  Bartholomew  de  las 
Casas,  having  zealously  laboured 
fifty  yeai*s  for  the  liberty, comforts, 
and  salvation  of  tlie  natives  of  A- 
merica,  returned  discouraged  to 
Spain,  at  the  age  of  seventy-seven 
years." 

The  work  Of  our  Annalist  will 
be  considiered  by  many  lis  moi'e 
dry,  meagre,  and  insipid,  when  he 
comes  to  treat  of  the  afiFairs  of 
New-England,  than  of  Spanish 
Amei-ica,  where  he  could  animate 
his  materials,  collected  from  old 
accounts,  with  passages  from  Rob- 
ertson, Clavigero,  or  the  author  of 
European  settlemfent^,  supposed  to 
be  the  late  Dr.  Campbell.  The 
documents  are  accurate,  but  not 
interesting,  which  relate  to  these 
colonies.  We  have  had  men  of 
invincible  industry  to  drudge  in 
the  mine  fot*  materials,  but  Where 
do  we  find  the  men  of  science  to  pu- 
rify them^  ?  Our  fathers  were  men 
of  excellent  characters  ;  but,  af- 
ter they  had  subdued  the  wilder- 
ness and  formed  their  Settlements, 
what  great  transactions  arc  there 
for  the  subject  of  history,  or  even 
to  enrich  the  work  6f  ftn  humble 
compiler  ?  In  thfeir  annals  there 
li  no  viiriety  to  charrti,  no  veiy 
splendid  events  to  celebrate,  tio 
such  Infoj'mationfo  b6  obtained, 


as  they  always  cxp«:t,  wfc6te  6fl* 
larged  conceptions  enable  them  to 
throw  just  observationB  upon  hii- 
man  nature,  or  give  extensive 
views  of  mankind.  Afiter  aH  we 
can  say  of  the  rise  and  progress  of 
these  United  States,  there  is  no 
eventful  period,  till  the  revolution. 
There  is  not  enough  in  our  histo- 
ry to  arrest  the  attention  of  read- 
ers in  general,  or  to  make  a  vciy 
splendid  volume,  though  Robert- 
son himself  made  an  attempt  upon 
the  subject.  We  congratulate  the 
author  of  the  American  Annals 
for  what  he  has  tione  ;  he  has 
made  them  less  tiresome-and  bar- 
ren, than  they  have  commonly 
been  exhibited. 

«  The  first  plantation  of  the  U- 
nited  States  was  in  1585.  Sir  R. 
Gi^eenville  left  at  Roanoke  the 
English  colony."    P.  96. 

This,  it  seems,  was  part  of  a 
fleet  which  Sir  Walter  Raleigh 
sent  to  Virginia)  and  which  went 
back  to  England  the  year  follow- 
ing. He  was  not  easily  discour- 
aged, and  sent  a  second  col- 
ony. Soon  after  this  colony 
returned  to  England,  and  for  a 
time  frustrated, the  expectations  of 
a  man,  whose  spirit,  %'irtue,  and 
romantick  generosity  will  be  ever 
remembered.  Few  great  men 
can  be  compared  with  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh.  Dr.  H.  says,  thh  ttrmi- 
noted  the  rxertiofts  of  Sir  f^'kff^ 
Rahfgh  ;  but  this  is  not  cdn^stent 
with  his  tclation  of  affledrs  in  1602. 
«  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  not  aban- 
doning all  hope  of  the  Virginia 
Colony,  madfe  one  effort  mote,**  Set. 
The  prior  discoiiragemcnt  hap- 
pened in  1*187. 

Wfe  are  also  informed,  that "  Che 
first  English  child,  bom  in  Atncr- 
ica,  wtts  b;^tised  August  1567, 
by  tht  nattc  df  Vh^inia."    Stich 


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liOLJlfts's  AME«r«4N  AIDTALS, 


sm 


^hiintttia,aftdeirch  tfifthig  anecdotes, 
tnay  be  efrteitaining  and  interest- 
ing in  a  book  of  annals,  though  we 
should  not  expect  them  upon  the 
historick  page.  We  learn  too, 
that  the  first  child  bom  in  New- 
England  was  Prregrine  IVhite. 
There  is  a  qutiintness  in  the  name, 
as  wfell  as  in  that  of  Seabom^-mhich 
was  given  to  a  chikl  of  Mr.Cotton, 
bom  on  the  passage  to  N.England. 
We  hear  also,  that  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Bentley  is  about,  collecting  a  very 
particular  account  of  the  Jira^ 
cradle^  in  which  a  child  was  rocked, 
bom  soon  after  our  fkthers  landed 
in  Salem. 

<«  In  1 602  Goraold  sailed  further 
northward,  8c  discovered  Cape  Cod. 
They  landed  on  an  island,  which 
they  called  Mtrtha*9  Vineyard:* 

Wc  cadnnot  so  well  account  for 
this  name,  as  that  the  EUzabeth 
IHortdt  should  be  so  called.  In<- 
deed  we  much  doubt  of  its  then 
bearing  tins  name.  In  some  old 
accounts  it  is  called  Martin's 
tiucy^ard.  We  shall  leave  this 
matter  to  be  disputed  by  the  old* 
colony  antiquaiiaiis  who  may  be 
as  much  amused  by  viewing  the 
pebblestones  as  the  rocks  of  our 
shores.  One  thing  is  evident,  that 
the  island  now  dalied  Maltha's 
Vineyard  is  not  the  islaTid  GosnoW 
landed  upon.  From  traditionary 
accounts,  from  an  old  Dutch  map 
of  the  cbast,  and  frbm  some  posi* 
live  evidence,  the  island  so  calkfd 
by  them  is  now  called  Mman'9 
land. 

As  another  specimen  of  Dr. 
Holmes's  style,  and  method  of  rfc- 
fating  things,  we  select  the  follow- 
ing passage  : 

«  The  first  general  court  of  the 
Massachusetts  colony  was  holden 
at  Boston.    At  this  trourt  many  of 


the  first  ptontehi  ttttended,  and 
were  made  free  of  the  colony* 
This  was  the  first  general  court, 
which  the  frtetnen  attended  }t\ 
person.  It  Was  now  enacted,  that 
the  freemen  should  in  future  havt 
power  to  choose  assistants,  when 
they  were  to  be  chosen  ;  and  the 
assistants  were  empowered  to 
choose  out  of  their  own  number 
the  govemour  and  deputy  ^verrt- 
our,  who,  with  the  assistants,  were 
-empowered  to  make  laivs,  and  ap- 
point officers  for  the  execution  of 
them.  This  measure  was  now 
fully  assented  to  by  the  general 
vote  of  the  pe<^le  j  but  when  the 
•general  court  convened,  early  the 
next  year,  it  rescinded  this  rule, 
and  ordained,  that  the  govemour, 
deputy  govemour,  and  assistants, 
should  be  chosen  by  the  freemen 
alone."    F,  257. 

The  author  refers  us  toChalmer^* 
Political  Artnals  for  this  atid  seve^ 
ral  other  documents,  which  may 
be  depended  upon,  because  they 
are  taken  from  the  Plantation  Of- 
fice. The  late  GovemourHutchin- 
son  frequently  said,  in  conversa- 
tion with  his  friends,  that  a  com- 
plete  history  of  the  colonies  could 
not  be  vmtten,  this  side  of  the  At- 
lantick,  for  want  of  these  papers  ; 
that  the  writer  must  go  to  Great-? 
Britain  and  there  search  the  files 
of  this  office.  To  these  Chalmers 
had  access,  and  he  certainly  has 
made  a  booHj  worthy  the  perusal 
of  all  who  would  make  themselves 
acquainted  with  the  affairs  of  A- 
merica.  We  learn  also  this  fact, 
that  private  gentlemen  as  well  as 
the  ofi>cers  of  government,  when 
we  were  under  the  crown,  had 
their  directions  to  give  every  kind 
of  information  concerning  the  state 
of  the  colonies  ;  that  a  regulai! 
correspondence  was  ^kept  up  bcr 
twcen  the  secretary  of  the  lords 


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374 


MOLMEI*S   AMEKICAV   INHALS. 


of  trade  and  plantation  and  certain 
individuals  in  this  country,  who  do 
not  always  give  their  names  with 
their  letters,  but  who  tell  many 
facts,  and  often  express  their  opin- 
ions. The  late  John  Pownal,  esq. 
had  all  these  papers  arranged,  and 
numbered,  and«  put  into  regular 
cases  for  publick  use  and  the  ser- 
vice of  individuals.  Indeed  every 
thing,  appertaining  to  the  various 
offices  of  Great-Britain,  is  in  such 
complete  order,  as  appears  won- 
derful to  a  person  who  is  not  ac- 
quainted with  their  regular  man- 
ner of  doing  business  ;  which  is 
worthy  the  imitation  of  these  U- 
nited  States.  We  know  not  whe- 
ther there  is  not  as  much  method 
at  Washington ;  but  we  know  that 
in  some  of  the  states  their  records 
resemble  an  oyster  bank,  more 
than  a  cabinet  for  papers  ;  and 
that  it  would  be  bringing  order  out 
•  of  confusion  to  make  them  fit  for 
use.  There  may  be  exceptions, 
however,  in  some  of  the  publick 
offices. 

In  1654.  A  sumptuary  law  was 
passed  by  the  legislature  of  Mas- 
sachusetts. Vide  p.  354,  margin- 
al ngte.  They  "  acknowledge  it 
to  be  a  matter  of  much  difficulty 
in  regard  of  the  blindness  of  men's 
minds  and  the  stubbornness  of 
their  wills,  to  set  down  exact  rules 
to  confine  all  sorts  of  people*' ;  yet 
«  cannot  but  account  it  their  duty 
to  commend  unto  all,  the  sober 
and  moderate  use  of  these  bless- 
ings," &c.  The  court  proceed  to 
order,  that  no  person  whose  estate 
shall  not  exceed  the  true  and  in- 
different sum  of  200/.  shall  wear 
any  gold  or  silver  lace,  or  gold  or 
silver  buttons,  or  any  bone  lace 
above  2  shillings  per  yard,  or  silk 
hoods  or  scarves,  on  the  penalty  of 
10  shillings  for  every  such  offence. 
The  law  authorizes  and  requires 
the  selectmen  of  every   town  to 


take  notice  of  the  apparel  of  any 
of  the  inhabitants,  and  to  assess 
such  persons  "  as  they  shall  judge 
to  exceed  their  ranks  and  abilities, 
in  the  costliness  or  fashion  of  their 
apparel  in  any  respect,  especially 
as  to  the  wearing  of  ribbands  and 
great  boots,"  at  200/.  estates,  ac- 
cording to  the  proportion  which 
such  men  use  to  pay  to  whom  such 
apparel  is   suitable   and  allowed. 
An  exception,  however,  is  made  in 
favour  of  publick  officers  and  their 
families,  and  of  those  "  whose  edu- 
cation   and      employment     have 
been  above  the   ordinary  degree, 
and  whose  estates  have  been  cod-     , 
siderable,  though  now  decayed." 
We  smile  at  the  simplicity  of  our 
forefathers  ;  but  Ihe  mother  coun- 
try had  set  an  example  of  similar 
measures,  effected  in  a  more  sum- 
mary manner.      In  the  reig^  of 
queen  Elizabeth  "  began  in  Eng- 
land   long   tucks     and     rapiers," 
which  succeeded  the   sword   and 
buckler  ;    "  and  he  was  held  the 
greatest  gallant,  that  had  the  deep- 
est ruffe  and  longest  rapier.     The 
offence  unto  the  eye  of  the  one, 
and. the  hurt  unto  the  life  of  the 
subject  that   come  by  the  other, 
caused  her  majesty  to  make  pro- 
clamation against  them   both,  and 
to  place  selected  grave  citizens  at 
every  gate  to  cut  the   ruffes,  and    > 
break  Uie  rapier  points,  of  all  pas- 
sengers that  exceeded  a  yeard  in 
length  of  their  rapiers,  and  a  naylc 
of  a    yeard    in    depth    of    their 
ruffes."     Stow.  Chron.  869. 

There  are  many  references  to 
authorities  in  theAmerican Annals. 
As  far  as  we  have  been  able  to 
look  them  over,  they  are  very  ex- 
act, and  there  are  very  few  typo- 
graphical errours.  When  the  atH 
thor  depends  upon  hearsay^  be 
sometimes  is  mistaken  ;  as  for  in- 
stance, p.  371,  speaking  of  Mr. 
Hopkins's  donation^  in  a  marginal 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


PLEAStJRES  OF   THE   IMAGiyATIOIf. 


375 


note.  "  He  gave  500/.  out  of  his 
estate  in  England  to  trustees  in 
New-England  for  the  upholding 
and  promoting  the  kingdom  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  those  parts  of 
the  earth  ;"  which  donation  was 
considered  as  made  to  Harvard 
College  and  the  grammar-school 
in  Cambridge,  and  by  virtue  of  a 
decree  in  chancery  was  paid  in 
1710,  kc.  &c. 

This  account  of  the  Hopkinton 
fund  is  just,  till  he  mentions  the 
liberality  of  the  general  court. 
But  it  is  a  great  mistake  to  say, 
that  the  court  made  any  addition  to 
the  funds.  There  is  a  difference 
between  an  act,  which  enabled  the 
trustees  to  receive  their  just  dues, 
which  was  the  only  thing  done,  and 
to  give  credit  for  a  donation.  The 
funds  accumulated  by  the  value  of 
the  estate ;  and  an  application  being 
made  to  the  general  court,  they 
were  put  upon  such  a  foundation, 
that  the  trustees  can  draw  for  so 
much  money  as  enables  them  to 
give  very  considerable  encourage- 
ment to  young  gentlemen,  who 
reside  in  Cambridge  for  the  sake 
of  pursuing  their  theological  stu- 
dies. We  certainly  object  against 
putting  that  upon  the  score  of  be- 
nevolence, which  was  only  an  act 
of  justice. 

in  page  356  a  very  unnecessary 
compliment  is  introduced  to  a  gen- 
tleman, who  is  called  F.R.S.  Dr. 
H.  may  recollect,  that  these  lettei^s 
mean  the  London  Society  ;....this  is 
a  very  different  society  from  the 
Royal  Society  of  Edinburgh^  which 
b  always  distinguished  by  F.R.S.E. 
Supjposing  the  gentleman,  howev- 
^9  to  be  a  member  of  either  socie- 
ty, why  is.  he  brought  forth  to 
prove  a  thing,  which  no  one 
doubts  ?  Many  gentlemen  have 
seen  the  Columbium,  and  it  is  well 
known  that  "  it  attracted  much  no- 
^e,**  and  that  the'  place  where  it 


was  taken  is  near  New-London. 
It  is  well  to  mention,  that  the 
American  Academy  of  Arts  and 
Sciences  are  about  giving  an  ac- 
count of  this  mineral.  We  are 
glad  to  learn  that  they  are  busily 
employed. 

In  our  review  of  the  American 
Annals  we  mean  to  be  equally 
candid  and  just.  It  is  our  opinion 
that  the  work  would  appear  more 
perfect,  were  there  not  such  a  pro- 
fusion of  compliments  and  acknowl- 
edgments to  every  one,  who  has 
favoured  the  author  with  a  book, 
manuscript,  or  observation .  It  de- 
tracts from  the  woith  of  the  pndse, 
when  gratitude  is  expressed  to 
those  who  richly  deserve  it,  if  every 
little  trifling  acquisition  is  made 
the  subject  of  a  note,  or  considered 
as  an  important  literary  docu- 
ment. 

These  hints  may  serve  to  benefit 
the  author.  We  really  think,  he 
deserves  much  credit  for  his  la- 
bours, and  that  these  Annals  will 
be  regarded  by  the  judicious  a- 
mong  the  useful  publications,which 
have  issued  from  the  American 
press. 


ART.  32. 

The  Pleasures  of  the  Imagination^ 
a  fioem  in  three  books.  By  Dr. 
Menside.  Portland,  T.  B.  Wait. 
%vo. 

A  VERY  neat,  not  to  say  ele- 
gant, edition  of  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  poems  in  the  Eng- 
lish language  ;  and  we  believe 
very  correctly  printed.  We  do 
not  altogether  like  the  form,  large 
octavo,  which,  in  so  thin  a  volume, 
looks  awkwardly.  If  printed  in 
12mo.  or  18mo.  it  would  have 
made,  we  think,  a  better  appear- 
ance. In  other  respects  it  is  a 
handsome  edition. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


V<r 


QJPCQCIUCY  tlKV^U,U». 


Democracy  UnveiUdy  or  tyranny 
9lnfi/ied  qf  the  garb  of  fiatriot- 
Um,  By  Chri^ofihtr  Cauetic, 
LL.D.  ^c.  fjTc.  In  3  voia,  ^d 
edition,  New-York,  for  I.  Riley 
and  Co. 

Did  the  author  think  it  neces- 
sary ta  &ubj<un  to  his  third  editioi> 
every  thing  that  any  person  in 
England  or  America  has  ever  said, 
liot  only  of  the  work  now  before 
u»,  but  of  his  other  productions  ? 
Here  are  sixteen  witnesses  intro- 
duced to  inform  the  publick,  when 
they  can  decide  as  well  without 
them,  for  the  circumstances  aro 
urithin  their  own  knowledge.  Had 
^ese  recommendations  been  omit- 
ted, would  the  author  have  feartKi 
censure  ;  and  is  not  this  an  unfair 
mode  of  averting  it  ?  This  is  not 
the  sclt«support^dQonfid^ncc,which 
the  9kUthor,  since  his  succesS)  might 
Jiave  justly  displayed. 

Of  the  grei^t  fidditions  in  verse 
^nd  prose  to  the  present  ediUqn, 
yrt  can  sayi  they  are  not  injeriour 
to  the  rest  of  the  work,  nor  unwor* 
thy  of  their  relation  to  the  elder- 
bom.  But  two  volumes  !  Indeed, 
^tis  tpo  much  fw  pur  x>oor  pockets 
to  pay  for. 

The  most  valuable  remarks  a- 
mong  the  addenda  will  be  found 
in  the  notes  on  page  26  and  195 
of  the  second  volume.  The  ridi- 
culp  upon  a  letter  from  one  g^eat 
man  to  another,  containing  some 
whimsical  observations  on  general 

Eolity,  might  have  been  supported 
y  reference  to  any  really  profound 
historians  or  philosophers.  **  Wq 
see,"  say*  the  letter-writer,  ^  nu- 
merous societies  of  men,  the  ab^ 
originals  of  this  country,  living  to*- 
|;ether  without  the  acknowledge^ 
pent  ^f  either  laws  or  mftgistnicyi 
yet  they  live  in  p(:«/Qe  am^Qg  tb^io^ 


selves,  ^4  ^^  of  YlQl^Bftc  and  int 
jury  are  ^  i^re  in  their  so^ieties^ 
^  in  iiatiqns  which  keep  the  sword 
of  the  law  in  perpetual  activity," 
^c.     Konsensc. 

R«4ie«ot  S»J»iroU  rem  j 
Jam  aava  progeoici  coclo  cJinymcur  lUto. 

When  the  famous  Locke  kxrmtA 
a  paper  constitution  for  a  coraQiu<r 
nity,  hif  schemes  soon  diahonoar- 
ed  his  judgment ;  yet  was  his  ret* 
soning  generally  conclusive,  and 
his  acquaintance  with  the  hiiio^ 
ry  and  state  of  man  indisputa- 
ble. But  there  are  some  pohd- 
cians  who  can  find  an  excuse  kg 
the  absurdity  of  their  dcductJoos 
in  their  ignorance  of  £acts. 

The  printers  of  this  work,  hMH 
ourable  and  liberal  as  any  oar 
country  can  boast  among  that  class 
of  men,  always  distinguished  Bar 
their  honour  and  their  libenOitj* 
generally  deserve  crecht  iw  thtif 
correct  editions ;  buterroiir»wid»» 
in  their  dcpartwcntarc  someliBies 
discernible.  In  the  list  of  emu 
we  do  not  find  a  correctk*  ti  ^ 
gross  mistake  in  pfigc  17th  of  the 
introduction,  where  linea  fr«a 
Horace  are  quoted  aa  prose.  C»  j 
this  be  the  fault  of  ^e  poet?  j 


ART.  34* 

The  Anatomy  of  the  Human  Sothf, 
JJy  William    Che^elden.      Wu^ 
forty    cofifier-fiiatea.     Second  e-    \ 
dition.      Published     by   Dafid 
West.    8i;o. 

AS  thi?  worls  is  perfectly  knom 
to  the  publick,  ^nd  an  editiop  of  ii 
h?is  appeared  in  Boston  before,  we 
need  qn)y  remark,  thatthis  e&ion 
is  very  handsomely  executed,  un- 
commonly free  from  erroiirs,  and 
will  bear  a  poinparispn  with  the 

Lon4w  e^iti^o- 


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shepard's  sermok. 


377 


ART.   35. 

A  Sermon^  preached  in  the  audi' 
ence  of  his  •  Excellency  Caleb 
Strongj  Esq,  Govemour ;  hU 
Honour  Edward  H,  Eobbinej  Esq. 
Lieutenant 'Govemour  ;  the  hon^ 
ourable  the  Council^  Senate^  and 
House  of  Representativea  qf  the 
Commonwealth  of  Massachuaettty 
on  the  anniveraary  election^  May 
28,  1806.  By  Samuel  Shepardy 
A.M.  Congregational  minister  of 
L^noT,  Boston,  Young  8c  Minns, 
printers  to  theState.  Bvo,pfi.  3 1 . 

THE  passage  of  scripture,  serv- 
ing as  the  theme  of  this  discourse, 
is  that  in  1  Chron.  xxix,  12.  Both 
riches  and  honour  come  of  thee^  and 
thou  reignest  over  all  ;  and  in  thine 
hand  is  power  and  rm'ght  ;  and  in 
thine  hand  it  is  to  make  great,  and 
to  give  strength  unto  all.  We  ac- 
knowledge the  propriety  of  the 
text  for  such  an  occasion ;  but, 
for  aught  we  can  see  of  the  wri- 
ter's design  in  selecting  it,  there 
arc  five  hundred  texts  in  the  bible, 
which  would  have  been  equally  fit 
for  his  purpbse.  The  capital  de- 
fect of  the  performance  is  want  of 
point  and  want  of  order.  The 
sermon  contuns  many  important 
remarks  ;  but  it  is  difficult  to  dis- 
cern their  particular  object.  IThe 
preacher  has  brought  together  sev- 
eral just  reflexions  on  the  provi- 
dence of  God,  on  the  people  of  Is- 
rael, on  our  own  country,  on  the 
christian  religion,  and  on  the  du- 
ties of  rulers  ;  but  they  neither 
come  in  as  precedents,  nor  follow 
as  consequents  :  they  hold  in  fact 
no  manifest  conriexion  with  any 
manifest  design  of  the  author.  Yet 
the  sermon  is  not  destitute  of  mer- 
it, and  we  willingly  insert  the  en- 
suing description  of  the  Jewish 
theocracy,  as  the  most  favourable 
specimen  of  its  style. 

Vol.  HI.  No.  7.     2Z 


They  were  alfo  blefl*ed  with  an  excel- 
lent confHtution  of  government.  It  is 
fometimes  called  a  Tbeccriuy  ;  but  ex- 
cepting fome  particular  adb  of  toyalty. 
which  God  referved  immediately  to  bim« 
felf,  it  was  in  its  viUble  form,  and  as 
originally  committed  to  the  admini(ha- 
tion  of  man,  republican.  Oppofed  to 
every  fyftem  of  tyranny  and  oppreifiony 
it  was  well  adapted  to  fecure  and  per- 
petuate the  rights  and  privileges  of  every 
member  of  the  community.  If  the  Ifrael- 
Htes  were  not  a  free  and  independent 
people,  the  fault  was  in  themfeives.  T» 
the  diftindUon,  freedom,  and  indepen- 
dence of  each  tribe,  their  agrarian  law 
Was  peculiarly  favourable.  In  each 
province,  all  the  freeholders  mull  be  not 
only  Ifraelites,  but  defcendants  of  the 
fame  patriarch.  The  prefervation  of 
their  lineage  was  alfo  necefiary  to  the 
tenure  of  their  lands.  The  fcvcral 
tribes,  vehile  they  were  upited  as  one 
commonwealth,  flill  retained  their  diftinc* 
tion  and  privileges,  and  were  indepen- 
dent of  each  other.  Each  tribe  was  in  a 
fenfe,  a  di(Hn<Sk  ftate,  having  its  own 
prince,  elders,  and  judges,  and  at  the 
fame  time  was  one  of  the  united  (fates  of 
Ifrael.  They  had,  alfo,  a  national  coim- 
ctl.  This  which  might  with  propriety 
be  called  a  general  congrefs,  was  com- 
pofcd  of  the  princes,  the  elders,  and  heads 
of  families  from  all  the  tribes.  It  was 
the  budnefs  of  this  aflembly  to  attend  to 
all  matters,  which  related  to  the  common 
intereft ;  fuch  as  levying  war,  negociat- 
ing  peace,  providing  for,  and  apportion- 
ing the  neceffary  expenfes  of  the  nation, 
and  deciding  in  matters  of  difpute  be* 
tween  particular  tribes.  No  one  tribe 
had  a  right  of  dicStating  to,  or  exerciling 
fuperiority  over  another.  In  this  grand 
national  aflembly,  redded  the  higheft 
delegated  authority,  and  it  was  to  be 
regaurded  by  all  the  tribes  with  the  great- 
^eft  reverence.  A  violation  of  the  con- 
(btution,  in  this  refpet^l,  fubjedted  the 
offenders  to  the  mo(l  fevere  penalty. 
This  grand  council  of  the  nation  had  its 
prefident,  who  was  condituted  fuch 
upon  republican  principles. 


ART.   36. 

Preparation  for  war  the  beat  sc" 
curiiy  for  peace.  Illustrated  in 
a  scTjnon  delivered  before  the  An» 
cicnt  and    Honourable    Artillery, 


Digitized  by  VjOOQ IC 


378 


sxndall's  sermon. 


Comfumyj  on  the  anmversory  of 
their  election  of  officers^  Boston^ 
June  2,  1806.  By  James  Keri' 
dallf  j.M.  minister  <if  the  I'^irst 
Church  in  Plymouth.  BostoHi 
printed  at  the  Anthology  Office, 
by  Munroe  and  FranciK.     1 806. 

Of  this  discourse  it  is  bat  jus- 
tice to  observe,  that  it  is  decidedly 
superiour  to  tlie  majority  of  pro-' 
ductions  of  its  class.  It  is  partic- 
ularly free  from  the  common-place 
cant  of  our  anniversary  effusionss 
and  discovers  occasionally  some 
symptoms  of  eloquent.  The  his- 
tory of  Hezekiah,  at  the  period  that 
he  was  invaded  by  the  king  of  As- 
syria, is  a  fortunate  text-matter  for 
the  orator  of  1806,  and  his  manner 
of  manaeuvering  it  for  the  edifica- 
tion of  his  countrymen  remarkably 
creditable  to  his  understanding  and 
heart.  The  only  quarrel  that  We 
have  with  Mr.  Kendall  comes  from 
his  making  use  of  shakened  instead 
pf  shaken^  and  his  introduction  of 
two  rhetorical  beings  of  the  co» 
lossal  order  within  the  narrow 
compass  of  his  pages.  Now,  one 
giant,  in  all  conscience,  is  sufficient 
for  a  sermon,  unless  the  preacher 
is  desirable  of  reminding  us  of 
Gog  and  his  partner. 


ral  History  at  Paris,  Corres^ 
fiondent  of  the  Jigricultural  So- 
ciety in  the  Defiartment  of  the 
Seine  and  Oi*f.     8vo.  pp.  d06. 


ART.  37. 

Travels  to  the  west  of  the  jfUeghanys 
Mountains^  in  the  states  of  O/iioy 
Kentucky,  and  Tennessee,  and 
back  to  CharlestOTiy  by  the  ufi- 
fier  CaroUnas  ;  comprising  the 
most  interesting  details  on  the  pre- 
sent state  of  agriculture,  and  the 
natural  produce  qf  those  Coun» 

.  tries,  Is^c,  ;  undertaken  in  the 
year  1802,  by  F,  A.  Michaux, 
vtember  (f  the  society  <f  M$tU' 


This  is  a  work  which  steals  od 
the  world  without   any   splendid 
promises  or  pompous  prelenslonsy 
yet,  at  a  future  ei-a,  it  may  attract 
the  attention  of  the  historian,  as 
one    of   the    intermediate    links 
which  connect  a  prosperous  em- 
pire with  the  laborious  efforts  of 
industrious  emigrants  and  in&nt 
colonists.     It  is,  indeed,  of  impor- 
tance to  mark  the  gradual,  th& 
insensible  progress  of  an   enter- 
prising   population.      The    men 
who  shot  woodcocks  in  the  forests 
where    Philadelphia  now  stands, 
have  been  known  by  many  yetaliie; 
and  half  a  million  of  persons  now 
inhabit  countries,  where,  twenty 
years  since,  the  foot  only  of  the 
wandering     savage    was     beaid. 
Vast  is  the  object  that  thus  fills 
the  mind  I   immense  the  prospect 
offered  to  future  ages  !    We  can 
only  notice,  in  a  few  pages,  thb 
link  which  connects  the  past  with 
the  future,  which  leads  to  erenta 
the  most  astonishing  and  import- 
ant ;  in  which  the  imagination  can 
neither  be  guided  or  corrected  by 
reason.     It  is  now  time  to  change 
the  language  which  partial  views 
and  temporary  information  occa- 
sioned.      What  was  styled    the 
northern  portion  of  the  American 
continenv  was  not  confined  on  the 
west  by  the  chain  of  mountuns 
which  pervades  that  vast  mass  of 
land,    and    which,    resbting  the 
ocean  on  either  side,  divides  Ame- 
rica like  an  insect,  at  the  Isthmus 
of  Panama,  but  by  the  Alleghanies, 
vhich  separate  the  low  alluvial 
lands  left,  apparently  at  a  late  pe- 
riod, by  the  ocean,  from  the  higher 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


MICHAUX'S  TRATEL8. 


'     ^T9 


tegicms.  The  l^orthern  states 
liave  been  styled  the  eastern,  as 
they  project  ferther  into  the  Atlan- 
tickywidle  those  belowPennsylvania 
obtained  the  appellation  of  south- 
cm.  In  our  present  view  both 
«7e  eastern,  and  the  truly  west 
country  is  beyond  the  Alleghany 
mountsdns  or  their  continuation, 
which  are  lost  as  they  approach 
Georgia,  or  the  Floridas.  On  the 
north*  immediately  below  Lake 
Erie,  the  Alleghany  and  Fayette 
counties  disappear  in  the  Ohio 
country,  and  Kentucky  ;  this  last 
is  again  succeeded  by  the  Tenes- 
see,  which,  on  the  west  and  south, 
is  followed  by  Louisiana  and  the 
FJoridaa. 

We  have,  as  usual,  to  regret,  in 
our  author's  tour,  the  want  of  a 
map.  It  is  sufficient  for  us  to  re- 
mark, that  the  author  proceeds 
from  Philadelphia  westward,  till 
lie  ^Is  in  with  the  vast  streams 
of  the  Ohio.  These  he  follows, 
with  some  deviations,  in  a  south* 
western  course,  till  he  returns  by 
low  Carolina  to  CharlestcMi. 

To  follow  our  author  minutely 
over  mountains  and  ^  barrens  ;'* 
through  forests,  and  across  the 
deserted  beds  of  winter  torrents, 
would  be  useless.  We  have  point- 
ed out  this  work  as  the  link  lor  the 
future  historian,  and  it  is  our  busi- 
ness to  trace  only  the  more  promi- 
nent features.  M.Michauxis  aman 
of  seioice  and  observation.  He  i^ 
not  a  speculator,  recpmmending 
the  purchase  of  lands  in  the  west- 
cm  country ;  though  we  suspect  he 
does  not  explain  all  the  difficulties 
of  the  situation  ;  but  he  offers,  on 
the  whole,  the  fruils  of  attentive 
investigation.  We  are  sorry  to 
add,  that  he  appears  in  disadvan- 
tageous colours,  from  the  very 
numerous  faults  of  his  printer, 
and  the  gallicisms  of  his  transla* 
lor.    To  Che  experienced  and  sci« 


entifick  reader,  these  are  only 
slight  impediments  :  to  others 
they  may  be  serious  obstacles. 
While  we  wander  through  coun- 
tries often  nsited  and  as  frequent- 
ly described,  we  have  little  temp- 
tation to  enlarge  :  yet  we  may  re- 
mark, from  a  professed  naturalist, 
the  son  of  a  man  who  had  travelled, 
with  similar  views,  through  some 
of  the  most  inaccessible  regions 
of  the  United  States,  the  numerous 
and  valuable  species  of  oaks  which 
he  had  occasion  to  notice,  and  the 
various  nut-trees,  which  might 
form  an  useful  and  interesting 
monography,  though  peculiarly 
intricate  and  of  difficult  discrimi* 
nation. 

Log-houses  is  a  term  often  em- 
ployed, and  though  generally  used, 
the  ideas  of  their  construction  arc 
not  very  precbe  and  discriminate. 
We  shall  select,  therefore,  a  short 
sketch  of  their  form. 

^'  It  is  not  useless  to  observe 
here,  that  in  the  United  States 
they  give  often  the  name  of  town 
to  a  group  of  seven  or  eight  hous- 
es, luid  that  the  mode  of  construct- 
ing them  is  not  the  same  every 
where.  At  Philadelphia  the  hous- 
es are  built  with  brick.  In  the 
other  towns  and  country  places 
that  surround  them,  the  half,  and 
even  frequently  the  whole,  is  built 
with  wood  ;  but  at  places  within 
seventy  or  eighty  miles  of  the  sea, 
in  the  central  and  southern  states^ 
and  again  more  particularly  in 
those  situated  to  the  westward  of 
the  Alleghany  Mountains,  one- 
third  of  the  inhabitants  reside  in 
log-houses.  These  dwellings  arc 
made  with  the  trunks  of  trees,  from 
twenty  to  thirty  feet  in  length* 
about  five  inches  diameter,  placed 
one  upon  another,  and  kept  up  by 
notches,  cut  at  their  extremities. 
The  roof  is  formed  vrith  pieces  of 


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380 


MieniUX's  TRAYBLS. 


Bimilar  leng;th  to  those  that  Com- 
pose the  body  of  the  house,  but 
iK>t  quite  so  thick,  and  gradually 
sloped  oi^  each  side.  Two  doors, 
which  often  supply  the  place  of 
windows,  are  made  by  sawing 
away  a  part  of  the  trunks  that 
form  the  body  of  the  house.  The 
chimney,  always  placed  at  one  of 
the  extremities,  is  likewise  made 
with  the  trunks  of  trees  of  a  suit- 
able length  ;  the  back  of  the  chim^ 
ney  is  made  of  clay  about  six 
inches  thick,  which  separates  the 
fire  from  the  wooden  walls.  Not- 
^vithstanding  this  want  of  precau- 
tion, fires  very  seldom  happen  in 
the  country  places.  The  space 
between  these  trunks  of  trees  is 
filled  up  with  clay,  but  so  very 
carelessly,  that  the  light  may  be 
seen  through  in  every  part ;  in 
consequence  of  which  these  huts 
are  exceedingly  cold  in  winter, 
notwithstanding  the  amazing 
quantity  of  wood  that  is  burnt. 
The  doors  move  upon  wooden 
hinges,  and  the  greater  part  of 
them  have  no  locks.  In  the  night 
time  they  only  push  them  to,  or 
fasten  them  with  a  wooden  peg. 
Four  or  five  days  are  sufficient  for 
two  men  to  finish  one  of  these 
houses,  in  which  not  a  nail  is  used. 
Two  great  beds  receive  the  whole 
family.  It  frequently  happens 
that  in  the  summer  the  children 
sleep  upon  the  ground,  in  a  kind 
of  rug.  The  floor  is  raised  from 
one  to  two  feet  above  the  surface 
of  the  ground,  and  boarded.  They 
generally  make  use  of  feather  beds, 
or  feathers  alone,  and  not  mat- 
tresses. Sheep  being  very  scarce, 
the  wool  is  very  dear  ;  at  the 
same  time  they  reserve  it  to  make 
stockings.  The  clothes  belong- 
ing io  the  family  are  hung  up 
round  the  room,  or  suspended 
upon  a  long  pole."     P.  28 — 30. 


Oar  author  had  not  yet  crossed 
the  Alleghanies,  or  extended  his 
course  beyond  the  confines  of 
Philadelphia,  when  we  find  the 
singular  remark,  that  during  the 
war,  in  the  time  of  the  French  re- 
volution, the  inhabitants  of  the 
neighborhood  of  Bedford  found  it 
more  to  their  advantage  to  send 
th^r  com  to  Pittsburgh,  azxl 
from  thence  to  New  Orleans,  by 
the  Ohio  and  Mississippi,  a  course 
of  more  than  2^000  miles,  than  to 
Philadelphia  or  Baltimore,  not 
exceeding  300  or  250  miles.  If 
this  be  generally  true,  what  a  pros- 
pect does  it  afibrd  of  the  future 
prosperity  of  the  western-country  ! 

The  passage  of  the  Alleghanies 
ofiers  few  remarks  of  interest  or 
importance.  On  these  mountains 
our  author  searched  for  a  species 
of  the  Azalea,  a  plant  of  singular 
importance,  since  to  the  valuable 
qualities  of  the  olive  tree,  it  adds 
the  power  of  bearing  the  cold  of 
the  most  northern  climates.  He 
found  it,  and  recognised  it  to  be 
the  same  plaat  which  his  father 
had  discovered  ;  but  the  seeds 
had  failed,  in  consequence  of  their 
soon  growing  rancid.  We  trust 
our  author  has  been  more  fortu* 
nate,  though  of  his  success  we 
have  no  information.  It  b  a  dioe- 
cious plant,  not  above  five  feet  in 
height :  its  roots  spread  horizon* 
tally,  and  give  birth  to  several 
shoots.  The  plant  grows  only 
in  cool  shady  places,  and  in  a  fer-r 
tile  soil ;  the  roots  are  of  a  citron 
colour.  On  these  high  grounds 
coal  is  not  uncommon,  but  tittle 
attended  to,  as  it  is  necessary  to 
clear  the  ground  from  the  trees. 
I^abour  is,  however,  dear,  and 
the  contest  between  expense  and 
qonvenience,  of  course,  frequent. 

The  vast  river,  the  Ohio,  is 
formed  by  the  conflux  of  the  iVlo^ 


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MICHAVX  S  TUAVELSr. 


381 


nongahela  and  Alleghsny  rivers. 
At  this  junction  Pittsburg  is  built, 
which  was  the  site  of  Fort  Du- 
quesne,  and  the  key  of  the  western 
country.  It  is  no  longer  of  im- 
portance in  a  military  view,  but  it 
is  the  connecting  medium  of  the 
eastern  and  western  states,  and,  as 
a  commercial  dep6t9  of  peculiar 
Talue.  Com,  hams,  dried  pork, 
bar  iron,  coarse  linen,  bottles, 
whiskey,  amd  salt  butter,  from  its 
dependencies,  ate  embarked  on 
the  Oiuo  for  the  Caribbees, 
through  New  Orleans.  At  the 
latter  port,  they  receive  in  ex- 
change cotton,  raw  sugar,  and  in- 
digo. These  are  sent  by  sea  to 
Philadelphia  and  Baltimore  ;  and 
the  bargemen  return  to  these 
ports,  from  which  they  go  again 
by  land  to  Pittsburgh. 

^  What  many  perhaps  are  igno- 
rant of  in  Europe,  is,  that  they 
build  large  vessels  on  the  Ohio, 
and  at  the  town    of  Pittsburgh. 
One  of  the  principal  ship-yards  is 
upon  the  Monongahela,  about  two 
hundred  fathoms  beyond  the  last 
houses  in  the  town.     The  timber 
they  make  use  of  is  the  white  oak, 
or  quercus  alba  ;    the  red  oak,  or 
qucrcus  rubra  ;    the  black  oak,  or 
quercus  tinctoria  ;    a  kind  of  nut 
tree,  or  juglans  minima  :  the  Vir- 
ginia cherry-tree,  or  cerasus  Vir^ 
ginia  ;   and  a  kind  of  pine  which 
they  use  for  masting,  as  well  as 
for  the  sides  of  the  vessels,  which 
require   a  slighter  wood.      The 
whole  of  this  timber  being  near 
at  hand,the  expenses  of  building  is 
not  so  great  as  in  the  ports  of  the 
Atlantick  states.     The  cordage  is 
TDanufactured    at    Redstone   and 
Lexington,  where    there  are  two 
extensive  rope-walks,  which  also 
supply    ships    with   rigging   that 
are    built  at    Marietta,  and  Lou- 
isville.    On  my  jpumey  to  Pitts? 


Pittsburgh,  in  the  month  of  July, 
1802,  there  was  a  three-mast  ves- 
sel of  two-hundred  and  fifty  tons^ 
and  a  smaller  one  of  ninety,  which 
was  on  the  point  of  being  finished. 
These  ships  were  to  go  in  the 
spring  following  to  Npw  OrleanS| 
loaded  with  the  produce  of  the 
country,  after  having  made  a  pasv 
sage  of  two  thousand  two  hundred 
miles  before  they  got  into  the 
Ocean.  There  is  no  doubt  but 
they  can,  by  the  same  rule,  build 
ships  two  hundred  leagues  beyond 
the  mouth  of  the  Missouri,  fifty 
from  that  of  the  river  Illinois,  anil 
even  in  the  Mississippi,  two  hund^ 
red  beyond  the  place  whence  these 
rivers  flow  ;  that  is  to  say,  six 
hundred  and  fifty  leagues  from 
the  sea  ;  as  their  bed  in  the  ap« 
pointed  space  is  as  deep  as  that  of 
the  Ohio  at  Pittsburgh.  In  cont 
sequence  of  which  it  must  be  a 
wrong  conjecture  to  suppose  that 
the  immense  tract  of  country,  wat 
tcred  by  these  rivers,  cannot  be  . 
populous  enough  to  execute  such 
undertakings.  The  rapid  popula* 
tion  of  the  three  new  western 
states,  under  less  favourable  cir- 
cumstances, proves  this  assertion 
to  be  true.  Those  states,  where 
thirty  years  ago  there  was  scarce- 
ly three  hundred  inhabitants,  are 
now  computed  to  contj^in  upwards 
of  a  hundred  thousand;  and 
though  the  plantations  on  the 
roads  are  scarcely  four  miles  dis- 
tant from  each  other,  it  is  very 
rare  to  find  one,  even  among  the 
most  flourishing,  where  one  can* 
not  with  confidence  ask  the  owner, 
whence  he  has  emigrated  \  or,  ac- 
cording to  the  trivial  manner  of 
the  Americans,  i^  what  part  of  tho 
world  do  you  come  from  V^  as  if 
these  immense  and  fertile  region^ 
were  to  be  the  asylum  common  to 
all  the  inhabitants  of  the  globe. 
Nqw  if  we  consider  these  astonisht 


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tn 


mCHitfJX's  TEATKLt. 


ing  and  ftptd  amdioratioiis^  whact 
ideas  must  we  not  fonn  of  the 
height  of  prosperity  to  which  the 
western  country  is  rising,  and  of 
the  recent  spring  that  the  com- 
merce,  population,  and  culture  of 
the  country  is  taking,  by  uniting 
Louisiana  to  the  American  terri* 
tory."    P.  63—65, 

When  it  is  recollectedt  that  the 
distance  from  Pittsburgh  to  New 
Orleans  exceeds  2,000  miles,  and 
that  the  Ohio,  before  its  junction 
with  the  Mississippi,  runs  through 
half  this  space,  what  must  our 
ideas  be  in  contemplating  vessels 
of  more  than  300  tons  seeking  the 
ocean  through  such  devious  tracts, 
and  in  so  extensive  a  course  !  Let 
us  improve  our  acquaintance  with 
the  means  by  which  this  inter- 
course is  facilitated : 

«  The  Ohio,  formed  by  the  u- 
nion  of  the  Monongahela  and  Al* 
leghany  rivers,  appears  to  be  rath- 
er a  continuance  of  the  former 
than  the  latter,  which  only  hafifient 
obliquely  at  the  conflux.  The  O- 
hio  may  be  at  Pittsburgh  two  hun- 
dred fathoms  broad.  The  current 
of  this  immense  and  magnificent 
river  inclines  at  first  north-west 
for  about  twenty  miles,  then  bends 
gradually  w^st  south-west.  It  fol« 
lows  that  direction  for  about  the 
space  of  five  hundred  miles ;  turns 
thence  south-west  a  hundred  and 
sixty  miles  ;  then  west  two  hun«- 
drcd  and  seventy-five  ;  at  length 
runs  into  theMississippi,in  a  south- 
westerly direction,  In  the  latitude 
of  36^  46*^,  about  eleven  hundred 
miles  from  Pitt^mrgh,  and  neariy 
the  same  distance  from  Orleans. 
This  river  runs  so  extremely  ser- 
pentine, that,  in  gmng  down  it,  you 
appear  following  a  tract  directly 
opposite  to<  the  one  you  moan  to 
lake.     Its  breadth  varies  from  two 


hundred  to  m  dKHismd  &thoms; 
Theisiandsthatare  to  be  met  with 
in  its  current  are  very  nomerooa. 
We  counted  upwards  of  fifty  in 
the  apace  of  three  hundred  and 
dghty  miles.     Some  contain  but 
a  few  acres,  and  others  more  than 
m  thousand  in  length.    Tlieir  banks 
«re  very  low,  and  must  be  subject 
to  inundations.     These  islands  are 
a  great  impediment  to  the  naviga- 
tion in  the  summer.     The  aands 
that  the  river  drives  up,  form,  at 
the  head  of  some  of  them,  a  num- 
ber of  little  shoals  ;    and   in  this 
season  of  the  year  the  channel  is 
so  narrow,  from  the  want  of  watery 
that  the  few  boats,  even  of  a  mid- 
dling sise,  that  venture  to  go  down, 
are  frequently  run  aground,  and  it 
is  with  great  difficulty  that  they 
are   got    afloat  ;    notwithstanding 
which  there  is  at  all  times  a  suf- 
ficiency of  water  for  a  skiff  or  a 
canoe.     As  these  little  boats  aie 
very  light,  when  they  strike  upon 
the  sands  it  is  very  easy  to  push 
them  off  into  a  deeper  part.     In 
consequence  of  this  it  is  only  in 
the  spring  and  autumn  that  the 
Ohio  is  narigable,  at  least  as  far  as 
Limestone,  about  one  hundred  and 
twenty  miles  iromPittsburg.  Dur- 
ing these  two  seasons  the  water 
rises  to  such  a  height,  that  vessels 
of  three  hundred  tcms,  piloted  hy 
men  who  are  acquainted  with  the 
river,  may  go  down  in  the  greatest 
safety.     The  spring  season  begins 
at  the  end  of  February,  and   lasts 
three  months  ;  the  autumn  begins 
in  October,  and  oily  lasts  till  tbe 
first  of  December.    In  the  mean- 
time these  two  epochs  £Edl  sooner 
or  later,  as  the  winter  is  more  or 
less  rainy/»r  the  rivers  are  a  siiortcr 
or  a  longer  time  thawing.     Again, 
it  so  happens,  that  in  the  cousse 
of  the  summer,  heavy  and  inces* 
sant  raint  &il  in  the.  AUeghany 
mountains,  which  suddenly  swell 


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MICHAVx't  TRAVXL8. 


88S 


the  Ohio  :  at  tHat  time  persons 
may  go  down  it  with  the  greatest 
safety  ;  but  such  circumstances 
are  not  always  to  be  depended  on." 
P,  68—70. 

The  MississipiH  is  interspersed 
with  numerous  shoals  and  islands^ 
so  that  its  navigation  is  far  more 
dangerous  than  that  of  the  Ohio> 
at  least  from  Natches  to  New  Or- 
leans)  a  course  of  more  than  700 
miles.  The  rapidity  of  the  Ohio 
is  very  considerable)  and  rowing  is 
imnecessary.  The  appearance  of 
the  banks  of  the  river,  on  leaving 
Pittsburgh,  merits  our  attention  : 

^  Leaving  Pittsburgh,  the  Ohio 
flows  between  two  ridges,  or  lofty 
mountains^  nearly  of  the  same 
height,  which  we  judged  to  be 
about  two  hundred  fathoms.  Fre- 
quently they  appeared  undulated 
9X  their  summit,  at  other  times  it 
seemed  as  though  they  had  been 
completely  level.  These  hills 
continue  uninterruptedly  for  the 
space  of  a  mile  or  more,  then  a 
slight  interval  is  observed,  that 
sometimes  affords  a  passage  to  the 
livers  that  empty  themselves  into 
the  Ohio  ;  but  most  csmmonly 
another  hill  of  the  same  height 
begins  at  a  very  short  distance 
from  the  place  where  the  preceding 
'  one  left  off.  These  mountains  rise 
succesdvely  for  the  space  of  three 
hundred  miles,  and  from  our  canoe 
ve  were  enabled  to  observe  them 
viore  distinctly,  as  they  were  more 
or  less  distant  from  the  borders  of 
the  river.  Their  direction  is  par- 
allel to  the  chain  of  the  Allegha- 
nies  ;  and  although  they  are  at 
times  from  forty  to  a  hundred 
miles  distant  from  them,  and  that 
for  an  extent  of  two  hundred  miles, 
one  cannot  help  looking  upon  them 
as  belonging  to  these  mountains. 
All  that  part  of  Virgmia,  situated 
opoa  the  left  bank  of  the  OhaO|is 


excessively  motintainous,  covered 
with  forests,  and  almost  uninhab- 
ited ;  where,  I  have  been  told  by 
those  who  live  on  the  banks  of  the 
Ohio,  they  go  every  winter  to  hunt 
bears."    P.  84. 

•  The  flat  woody  ground  between 
the  river  and  these  mountains  con- 
sists of  a  vegetable  mould,  from  de- 
caying leaves,  and  even  from  the 
decayed  trunks  of  trees.  The  best 
land  in  Kentucky  and  Tennessee 
is  of  the  same  kind,  and  its  vege- 
tative quality  peculiarly  strong. 
The  plane-tree  grows  to  an  im- 
mense size  ;  and  the  next  in  bulk 
is  the  liriodendron  tulipifera.  Oth- 
er trees,  which  adorn  and  diversify 
the  forests  of  the  country,  are  the 
beech,  magnolia  acuminata,  the 
celtis  occidentalis,  the  acacia,  the 
sugar  and  red  maple,  the  black 
poplar,  &c. 

In  this  tract  our  author  falls  in 
with  towns,  consisting  of  from  70 
to  300  houses,  which  till  within  a 
very  few  years  had  no  existence, 
and  are  generally  placed  on  the 
Ohio,  or  some  of  its  tributary  riv- 
ers, where  the  receding  mountains 
leave  a  vacant  and  level  spot.  Be- 
low Marietta,  a  town  on  the  Musk- 
ingum, at  its  conflux  with  the  O- 
hio,  the  mountains  recede  still  far- 
ther, and  offer  the  following  beau-* 
tiful  prospect  : 

«  On  the-23d  of  July,  about  ten 
in  the  morning,  we  discovered 
Point  Pleasant,  situated  a  little 
above  the  mouth  of  the  great  Ken- 
hawa,  at  the  extremity  of  a  point 
forsfied  by  the  right  bank  of  this 
river,  which  runs  neariy  in  a  direct 
line  as  far  as  the  middle  of  the  O- 
bio.  What  makes  the  situation 
more  beautiful,  is,  that  for  four 
or  five  miles  on  this  ude  the  point, 
the  Ohio,  four  hundred  fethomsi 
broad,  continues  the  lame  breadth 


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334 


MlCHAUXt  TAAVBI.8. 


the  whole  of  that  extent*  and  pre- 
sents on  every  side  the  most  per- 
fect line.  lu  borders,  sloping  and 
elevated  from  twenty-five  to  forty 
feet,  are,  as  in  the  whole  of  its 
windings,  planted  at  their  base  with 
willows  from  fifteen  to  eighteen 
feet  in  height,  the  drooping  bran- 
ches and  foliage  of  whAch  form  a 
pleasing  contrast  to  the  sugar  ma- 
ples, red  mi^les,  and  ash  trees, 
situated  immediately  above.  The 
latter,  in  return,  are  overlooked  by 
palms,  poplars,  beeches,  mag^o-* 
lias  of  the  highest  elevation,  the 
enormous  branches  of  which,  at- 
tracted by  a  more  splendid  light 
and  easier  expansion,  extend  to- 
ward the  borders,  overshadowing 
the  river,  at  the  same  time  com- 
pletely covering  the  trees  situated 
under  them.  This  natural  display 
which  reigns  upon  the  two  banks, 
affords  on  each  side  a  regular  arch, 
the  shadow  of  which,  reflected  by 
the  cbrystal  stream,  embellishes, 
in  an  extraordmary  degree,  this 
magnificent  coup  d'oeil."  -P.95,96. 

The  banks  of  the  Ohio  are  allu- 
vial, and,  where  not  covered  with 
vegetable  mould,  are  of  a  calcare- 
ous nature.  The  stones  are  flinty, 
and  chiefly  from  the  separation  of 
the  limestone  masses.  A  species 
of  mulette  is  chiefly  employed  in 
making  buttons,  as  the  pearly  na- 
cre is  very  thick.  It  is  arranged 
by  Bosc  under  the  genus  Unio, 
with  the  trivial  name  of  Ohioten- 
sis.  The  tyrant  of  the  river  is  the 
cat  fish,  silurus  felis  :  its  upper 
fins  are  strong  and  pointed,  and, 
by  swimming  under  his  prey,  he 
is  enabled  to  wound  it  where  tlie 
skin  is  thinnest.  The  inhabitants 
pf  the  banks  are  chiefly  hunters, 
for  the  sake  of  the  skins  :  a  few 
acres  only  are  cultivated  for  then* 
cows,  whose  milk  tliey  greatly  de-^ 
pend  on.    Plantations  occur  eVery 


three  or  four  miles,  and  travellers 
are  accommodated,  in  their  mise« 
rable  log-houses,  with  bread,  In- 
dian corn,  dried  ham,  milk  and 
butter.  They  themselves  feed 
only  on  Indian  corn  :  the  wheat 
which  is  cultivated  is  exported  in 
the  form  of  flour.  The  peach  and 
apple  are  their  only  fruit  trees  : 
the  former  is  preferred,  as  hogs 
are  fed,  and  brandy  distilled  from 
the  fruit.  The  price  of  the  best 
land  does  not  exceed  1 5s.  per  acre. 
The  sellers  are  seldom  constant  in 
their  attachments,  and  few  of  those 
who  first  clear  the  ground,  or  who 
immediately  succeed  them,  re- 
main on  it.  The  same  restless 
principle  urges  them  forward,  and 
the  Americans  have  now  penetra- 
ted to  the  banks  of  the  Missouri, 
forty  miles  above  its  union  with  the 
Mississippi.  There  are,  it  is  said, 
more  than  3,000  inhabitants  on  its 
banks,  allured  by  a  fertile  soil,  the 
numerous  herds  of  beavers,  elks^ 
and  bisons. 

Our  author  leaves  the  banks  of 
the  Ohio,  to  direct  liis  course  south 
and  south-west,  towards  Charles- 
ton. He  stops  in  tins  journey  at  a 
salt-mine.  In  this  elevated  region 
there  are  miiny  strata  of  rock  salt, 
and  salt  springs  often  rise  to  the 
surface,  leaving,  in  consequence 
of  the  evaporation,  a  saline  efflor- 
escence. To  these  spots,  the  o- 
riginal  inhabitanu  of  the  forest,  the 
wild  beasts,  usually  repaired.  Salt 
seems  to  numerous  animals  a  con- 
diment almost  essential  to  their 
existence  ;  and  we  find,  in  these 
spots,  the  remains  of  some  spe* 
cies  at  present  unknown,  probably 
extinct.  The  soil  round  these 
^<  licks"  is  dry  and  sandy  ;  the 
stones  are  fiat  and- chalky,  rounded 
at  the  edges,  and  of  a  bluish  cast 
inside.  The  soil  is  barren,  and 
the  few  trees  thin  and  stinted. 

Frankfi)it  is  the  seat  of  goviem-^ 


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KICHAUX'S  TRAVELS. 


385 


mctit  In  Kentucky,  but  Lexing- 
ton, in  consequence  of  some  ad- 
vantages of  situation,  is  the  larger 
and  more  populous  town.  It  sup- 
plies the  shipping  with  ngging, 
and  has  several  tan-yai'ds,  where 
leather  is  prepared  with  the  bark 
of  the  black  oak.  Industry  and 
ingenuity  go  hand  in  hand  to  add 
to  the  prosperity  of  the  town  and 
neighbourhood.  Nitre,  which  is 
found  in  the  neighbouring  caverns, 
supplies  the  material  for  the  man- 
ufacture of  powder,  and  two  mills 
have  been  erected.  A  pottery  al- 
so, as  in  some  other  villages,  is 
established.  Various  circumstan- 
ces rekdve  to  the  commerce  of 
this  part  of  America  are  added, 
but  the  balance  of  trade  with  Eu- 
rope is  apparently  unfavorable  to  it. 
The  attempt  to  plant  vineyards  in 
Kentucky  has  succeeded  very  im- 
perfectly. . 

On  the  southern  limits  of  Ken- 
tucky the  "  barrens"  commence. 
These  are  open  grounds,  dry,  and 
sometimes  sterile,  where  little  is 
met  with  but  partridges  ;  and 
where  one  woman  told  the  author 
that  she  had  not  seen  a  single  per- 
son for  eighteen  months.  In 
some  of  these  meadows,  however, 
the  grass  is  high,  and  marks  of 
fertility  appear.  Trees  of  different 
kinds,  and  flowering  shrubs,  are 
also  scattered  around.  In  this  dis- 
trict, our  author  thinks  that  the 
vineyards  should  have  been  plant- 
ed, and  he  supposes  that  spiings 
are  at  no  great  distance  from  the 
surface.  The  "  barrens"  are  sur- 
rounded with  a  wood  about  three 
miles  broad,  which  terminates  in 
an  impenetrable  or,  at  least,  unpen- 
etrated  forest. 

A  general  description  of  Ken- 
tucky follows,  for  the  greater  part 
of  which  we  must  refer  to  the 
work.  This  state  is  about  400 
miles  in  length,and  200  in  breadth ; 

Vol.  III.  No.  r.  3A 


and  has  be^i  securely  settled  only 
since  1783.  About  ten  years  af- 
terwards it  was  admitted  into  the 
union  as  an  independent  state. 
Ginseng  first  appears  in  Kentucky, 
though  more  common  in  a  more 
southern  climate.  Our  author 
suspects  that  from  twenty -five  to 
thirty  thousand  weight  is  annually 
exported,  and  more  care  is  now  ta- 
ken to  prepare  it  in  the  state  best  a- 
dapted  to  the  China  market.  The 
bisons  have  deserted  this  part  of 
the  country,  and  migrated  to  the 
right  side  of  the  Mississippi. 
Deers,  bears,  wolves,  red  and  grey 
foxes,  wild  cats,racoons,  opossums, 
and  some  squirrels,  arc  the  princi- 
pal animals  that  remain.  Tur- 
keys, in  a  wild  state,  arc  still  nu- 
merous. The  cultivated, produc- 
tion of  Kentucky  are  tobacco, 
hemp,  European  grain»  chiefly 
wheat,  and  Indian  com.  The  last 
yields  from  forty  to  seventy-five 
bushels  per  acre.  Eighty -five  thou- 
sand five  hundred  and  seventy  bai'- 
rels  of  flour  went,  from  the  1st  of 
January,  1802,  to  the  30th  of  June 
following,  from  Louisville  to  low 
Louisiana  :  moi^  than  t^Yo-thirds 
of  which  was  from  Kentucky.  A 
barrel  contains  the  flour  of  five 
bushels  of  wheat  com,about  ninety - 
six  pounds.  The  culture  of  to- 
bacco has  been  greatly  extended. 
Hemp  also  is  an  increasing  article 
of  commerce.  In  1 802  more  thau 
42,000  pounds  of  raw  hemp,  and 
about  24,000  cwt.  converted  into 
cables,  were  exported.  Flax  is 
(Cultivated  by  many  families. 
Rearing  and  taming  horses  is  a 
business  now  eagerly  and  advanta- 
geously followed,  and  homed  cat- 
tle are  bred  in  great  abundance. 
These,  driven  to  the  back  settle- 
ments of  Pennsylvania  and  Virginia, 
supply  the  markets  on  the  coast. 
Few  sheep  are  fed  or  fattened  ; 
but  the  hogs  ai*e  very  numerous  ; 


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98« 


MICRAVX's    TRATBLi. 


yet  cTcn  in  the  woods  they  are  not 
completely  wild.  Salt  provittons 
is  another  important  article  of 
commerce  ;  and  in  the  first  six 
months  of  1802,  72,000  barrels  of 
dried  pork,  and  2,485  of  sah,  were 
exported.  Poultry  are  rarely 
bred,  from  the  injury  they  might 
do  to  the  crops  of  Indian  com. 
Of  the  religious  sects,  the  metho- 
dists  and  anabaptists  are  most  nu- 
merous. Education,  even  in  these 
sequestered  regions,  is  carefully 
attended  to. 

Nashville  is  the  old  town  in 
Tenesse,  but  has  no  manufieictory 
or  publick  establishment.  Every 
thing  is  very  dear,  as  the  boats 
are  obliged  to  go  above  Pittsburgh, 
on  the  Ohio,  before  they  meet 
with  the  river  Cumberland,  on 
which  Nashville  is  built.  The 
author  still  approaches  Carolina, 
in  his  progress  to  Knoxville  ;  and 
in  his  journey  passes  the  moun- 
tains of  Cumberland,  to  which  the 
name  of  the  Wilderness  is  assign- 
ed. These  mountains  divide  east 
and  west  Tenessee,  which  thus  se- 
perated,  may  probably  become 
dbtinct  states.  One  of  the 
branches  of  theCumberland  is  sty- 
led "  Roaring  River,"  firom  its 
liumcrous  cascades.  The  right 
bank  of  this  River  rises  from  80 
to  100  feet  in  some  places,  and  we 
mention  it  particularly,  since  il 
rests  upon  a  bed  of  chistas,  the 
first  instance  of  this  rock  recorded 
in  the  author's  observations.  In 
the  caverns  in  the  neighbourood, 
probably  calcareous,  extensive 
«himinous  masses  of  considerable 


purity  are  discovered.  M.  Ml* 
chaux  now  arrives  within  about 
700  miles  irom  Baltimore  aad 
Philadelphia,  and  about  400imlet 
from  Richmond.  We  shall,  there- 
fore, conclude  our  account  of  bis 
journey,  with  a  few  remarks  ob 
Tenessee  in  general.  This  state  is 
situated  to  the  sooth  of  Kentucky, 
between  Ohio  and  the  Alleghany 
moimtains.  It  is  nearly  square, 
its  length  exceeding  its  breadth 
only  by  about  sixty  miles  in  300i) 
its  shortest  diameter  ;  and  was 
admitted  into  the  union  as  an  in- 
dependent state  in  179  i.  Itjfor* 
merlv  was  a  part  of  N<Mlh  Ctf<^ 
na.  jits  river,  Tenessee^  with  the 
Holston,  has  a  navigable  course 
for  near  800  miles,  inter^>ersed| 
during  the  summer,  with  shoals. 
It  is  not  closely  inhabited  ;  and 
its  chief  productions  are  cotton 
and  iron  :  the  soil  is  fot  and 
clayey. 

We  have  already  offered  out- 
reasons  or  our  apologies  for  the 
length  to  wlMch  our  article  has 
extended  ;  and  have  reprehend- 
ed, though  perhaps  wi^iout  suffi- 
cient severity,  the  gross  errors 
of  the  tnmslator  and  printer. 
Another  translation^  with  a  map, 
would  prove  a  valui^le  acqmsi- 
don  to  the  geographer,  the  sci- 
entifick  enquirer,  and  the  com* 
merdal  speculatist ;  for  though) 
as  we  have  sud,  we  do  not  im- 
plicitly trust  all  the  representa- 
tions, the  great  features  of  nature 
are  carefully,  and,  we  believe, 
accurately  copied.  /.  /?. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


se7- 


MONTHLY   CATALOGUE 

Of  New  Publications  in  the  United  States  for  July,  1806. 


SviDt  bona,  iunt  quaedam  nediocria,  fiunt  roala  plura.->MART. 


NEW  WORKS. 

The  New- York  Medical  Repoficorj 
and  Review  of  American  publications  in 
medicine,  (urgery,  and  the  auxiUiary 
kraoches  of  fcience.  No.  XXXVL  for 
Fehnmy,  March,  and  April,  1800,  which 
compleUi  the  9th  voL  New- York,  If,  3c 
I.  Swords. 

The  Flowers  of  Literature ;  being  a 
compendious  exhibition  of  the  mod  'm^ 
terefling  geographical,  hiftorical,  mifcel- 
laneoos,  and  theological  fubjedts  in  min- 
iature ;  intended  to  facilitate  the  im- 
provement of  youth  in  particular,  and 
adults  in  general,  whofe  pecuniary  re- 
iburces  wtU  not  admit  them  to  purchafe, 
nor  rdative  avocations  allow  time  to  pe- 
mfe  voluminous  produdtions  on  thcCe 
iBiportAiit  heads.  To  which  are  prefix- 
ed, Preliminary  Addrefles  to  parents, 
taachcrs,  and  tneir  pumls.  By  Thomas 
Branagan.  75  cts.  boards.  Trenton, 
New  Jerfey. 

A  Poem  on  the  Ordinance  of  Baptiiin, 
•in  anfwer  to  one  written  by  Rev.  J. 
Sewall  ^  upon  the  Mode  of  Baptifxn." 
Together  with  a  (hort  diflertation  on 
the  iame  fub}e<^  By  Dr.  John  Burham, 
of  Bluehill,  Maine.  12mo.  12^  cents. 
Buckftown,  Wm.  W.  Clapp. 

Meflage  from  the  Prelident  of  the 
United  States,  communicating  difcover- 
les  made  in  exploring  Louifiana,  by  cap- 
taiiu  L.ewis  and  Clark,  and  others  :  with 
a  ftatiflical  account  of-  the  country.  8vo. 
|»p.  1 80.  price  62  cts.  Wafhington  dty, 
A.&G.Way. 

The  Not.  of  Phocion,  which  have  ap- 
peared in  the  Charlefton  Courier,  on  the 
rub}e<ffc  of  Neutral  Rights.  Revifed  and 
corre<fled.     8vo.  50  cents.    Charlefton. 

Copy  of  a  Letter  of  July  4,  1805,  to 
the  Prefident  of  the  United  States,  ac. 
By  James  Lovell.  8vo.  Boilon,  Andrew 
Newell. 

A  CoUedkion  of  the  Laws  of  Kentucky, 
comprifing  all  thoTe  of  a  general  nature, 
pafled  ilnce  1798.  Lexington,  Ken- 
tucky, J.  Bradford. 

Unkversali-tm  confounds  and  destroys 
itself ;  or.  Letters  to  a  Friend  ;  in  four 
parts.  Part  1.  Or.  Huntington's  and 
Mr.  Relly's  scheme,    which    denies  all 


foture  punishment,  shown  to  be  made 
up  of  contradictions.  2.  Dr.  Chauncy**, 
Mr.  Winchester's,  Petitpierre's,  and 
Med.  Dr.  Young's  scheme,  which  tap^ 
poses  a  limited  punishment  hereafter, 
shown  to  be  made  up  of  contradictions. 
3.  Everlasting,  forever,  forever  and 
ever,  naturally  and  originally  mean 
duration  without  end.  4.  The  sufBc* 
iency  of  the  atonement,  for  the  salva^ 
tion  of  all,  consistent  with  the  final 
destruction  of  a  part  of  mankind.  Al- 
so, ihe  second  death  explained.  Inter- 
spersed with  direct  arguments  in  proof 
of  the  endless  misery  of  the  damned  ; 
and  answers  to  the  popular  objec- 
tion of  the  present  day,  against  the 
doctrines  of  grace.  By  Josiah  Spajild- 
ing,  A.  M.  pastor  of  a  church  in 
Buckland.  Northampton,  (Mass.)  An- 
drew Wright.  1805. 

Sermons  on  the  religions  education 
of  Children  ;  preached  at  Northamp- 
ton, Eng.  By  P.  Doddridge,  D.  D.  A 
new  edition,  revifed  and  corrected. 
Cambridge,   W.  Milliard. 

A  Prefent  for  your  Neighbour  ;  Or, 
the  right  knowledge  of  God  and  our- 
felves,  opened  in  a  plain,  practical,  and 
experimental  manner.  Cambridge,  W. 
Milliard. 

A  Difcourfe  concerning  meekne(s« 
By  Rev.  Matthew  Henry.  Firft  Ame- 
rican edition.     Cambridge,  W.  Milliard. 

A  fliort  and  eafy  method  with  De* 
ifts,  wherein  the^  certainty  of  the 
ChrifUan  religion  is  demonftrated  by 
infallible  proof  from  four  rules,  in  a 
letter  to  a  friend.  Cambridge.  W. 
Milliard. 

An  Oration,  delivered  before  the  truf- 
tees,  preceptors,  and  (hidents  of  Leicef- 
ter  Academy,  on  the  4th  of  July,  1806, 
at  opening  of  a  new  building  for  the 
above  feminary.  By  Aaron  Bancroft. 
Worceftcr,  Ifaiah  Thomas,  jun. 

An  Addrefs,  delivered  at  Salem,  July 
4, 1 806,  on  a  military  celebration  of  the 
day  by  the  brigade  and  regimental  offi- 
cers, the  late  commiflioned  officers,  and 
three  independent  companies  ;  at  the  re- 
queft  of  the  officers.  By  Major  Samuel 
Swett.  8vo.  pp.  24.  For  JbOiua  Cuflw 
ing,  Salem. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


388 


MONTHLY   CATALOGUE. 


An  Oration,  pronounced  before  the 
Briftol  Lodge  in  Norton,  and  in  the  pre* 
fence  of  the  Aflbciated  Celebrating 
JLodges  of  Briftol  County,  on  St.  John's 
anniverfiary,  June  24th,  A.L.  5806.  By 
Benjamin  Gleafon,  Grand  Lecturer.  8vo. 
BofEon,  Belcher  and  Armftrong. 

An  Oration,  pronounced  on  the  SOth 
anniverfary  of  American  Independence, 
before  the  Young  Democratick  Repub* 
licans  of  the  town  of  Bofton,  at  the  2d 
Baptid  meeting-houfe,  July  4, 1806.  By 
Jofeph  Gleafon,  jun.  Sva  pp.  24.  Bof- 
ton,  Oliver  &  Munroe. 

An  Oration,  pronounced  at  New- 
Bedford,  July  4th,  1806.  By  John  M. 
Williams  £fq.  A.M.  8to.  pp.  16.  Bof- 
ton.  Belcher  and  Armftrong. 

An  Oration,  pronounced  at  the  Branch 
meeting-houfe  in  Salem,  July  4, 1 806,  in 
commemoration  of  American  indepen- 
dence. By  H.  A.  S.  Dearborn,  efq.  8vo. 
20  cts.    Salem. 

The  Mechanick*8  Monitor,  or  alarm 
bell.  Compiled  by  a  workman.  Balti- 
more, Fryer  &  Clark. 

A  Sermon,  preached  in  audience  of 
his  Excellency  Caleb  Strong,  guvernour, 
His  Honour  Edward  H.  Robbing,  efq. 
lieutenant-governour,  the  Hon.  the  Coun- 
cil, Senate  and  Houfe  of  Reprefentatives 
of  the  Commonwealth  of  Maflachufetts, 
on  the  Anniversary  Election,  May  '^8, 
J  806.  By  Samuel  Shepard,  A  M.  Con- 
gregational Minider  of  l.«nox.  Boflon, 
Young  &  Minns.     1 806. 

A  Difcourfe  on  Free  Communion  to 
all  Chriftians  at  the  Lord's  Table.  By 
Elder  Simeon  Snow.  Price  18  cents. 
Buckdown,  Maine.     Wm.  W.  Clapp. 

A  Difcourfe  on  the  neceflity  and  im- 
portance of  wifdom  and  knowledge,  de- 
livered at  the  opening  of  the  Lincoln  A- 
cademy  in  New-Castle,  0(Stober  1, 1805, 
by  Kiah  Bayley,  A.  M.  paftor  of  the 
church  in  New  Caftle.  Wifcaffet,  Bab- 
Ion  and  KuCt. 

The  Happy  Nation,  a  sermon,  preach- 
ed at  the  Anniversary  Elei^on  in  Hart- 
ford, May  8,  1806.  By  Rev.  William 
Lyman,  A.  M-  paftor  of  a  church  in 
Eaft  Haddam.  Hartford.  Hudson  and 
Goodwin.     1 806. 

A  Sermon,  preached  before  the  Gene- 
ral Assembly  of  the  Presbyterian  church 
in  the  United  States  of  America  ;  by 
appointment  of  their  standing  commit- 
tee of  Mibsions,by  fliphalet  Nott,DJ). 
President  of  Union  College  in  the 
State  of  New  York,  May  19,  1806. 
Philadelphia.    Jane  Aitken. 


The  Virginia  Religious  Magazine, 
publiflied  under  the  patronage  of  the 
Synod  of  Virginia,  by  the  Editor.  Vol- 
ume 11,  for  the  year  1806.  Lexington. 
Samuel  Walkup. 

The  Boston  Directory,  containing  the 
names,  occupations,  places  of  abode, 
and  bufinefs  of  the  inhabitants.  A  lift  ' 
of  the  (Ireets,  lanes,  courts,  alleys, 
wharves,  &c.  Bounds  of  the  new 
wards,  lids  of  puUick  ofRces,  town* 
officers,  phyficians,  fextons,  and  lifts  of 
poft  towns,  &.C.  lUufh'ated  by  a  plan 
of  the  town.     Bofton.     E.     Cotton. 

The  Sentimental  Songfter ;  a  coUecStion 
of  paftoral  poetry  from  the  beft  ancient 
and  modern  authors.  12ma  Benning^ 
ton.    Benjamin  Smead. 


NEW  EDITIONS. 

The  Principles  of  Moral  and  Political 
Philofophy.  By  William  Paley,  D.D. 
The  5th  American  from  the  12th  Eng- 
lifli  edition.  8vo.  pp.  494.  Bofton, 
John  Weft,  No.  75,  Cornhill. 

Vol.  IV.  of  the  Life  and  Pontificate  of 
Leo  the  Tenth.  By  William  Rofcoc. 
8vo.  Philadelphia,  Lorenzo  Preis  of  £. 
Bronfon. 

Effays,  Literary,  Moral,  and  Philo- 
fophical.  By  Benjamin  Rulh,  M.  D.  and 
Profeflbr  of  the  Inftitutes  of  Medicine 
and  Clinical  Preacher  in  the  Univerfity 
of  Pennfylvania.  Second  editioxi.  Svo. 
pp.  364.  Price  2  dols.  bound.  Philadel- 
phia, Thomas  &  William  Bradford. 

A  Modern  Philofopher  ;  or  Terrible 
Tradtoration  !  in  four  cantos,  Moft 
refpe^fuUy  addrefted  to  the  Royal  Col- 
lege of  Phyficians,  London.  By  Chrifto- 
pher  Cauftick,  M.D.  A.S.S.  Fellow  of  the 
Royal  College  of  Phyficians,  Aberdeen, 
and  Honorary  Member  of  no  lefs  than 
nineteen  very  learned  focieties.  Second 
American  edition,  revifed,corre<5led,and 
much  enlarged  by  the  author.  Svo.  pp. 
272.  From  the  Lorenzo  Prefs,  for  ICaac 
Riley  &  Co.  New- York. 

Memoirs  of  Richard  Cumberland ; 
written  by  himfelf.  Containing  an  ac- 
count of  his  life  and  writings.  Inter- 
fperfed  with  anecdotes  and  chanuSbers 
of  feveral  of  the  moft  diftinguiihed  per- 
fons  of  his  time,  with  whom  he  has  had 
intercourfe  and  connexion.  8vo.  New- 
York,  Brisban  &  Brannan.    pp.  350. 

Bonaparte  and  th^  French  .  people 
under  his  Consulate.  Translated  from 
the  German.  The  first  American  edi- 
tion.    New  York,  Isaac  Collins  and  Son. 


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MONTHLY   CATALOGUE^ 


S89 


Btogfaphical  Memoirs  of  Lord  Vif- 
count  NeUbn,  with  obfervacions,  critical 
mnd  explanatory.  By  John  Chamock. 
8vo.    J4ew  York,  I.  Riley  and  Co. 

I.«ooora,  by  Mifs  Edgeworth.  1  vol. 
ISmo.  I  dol.  in  extra  boards,  comprifing 
the  2  vols,  of  the  Englifli  edition.  New- 
'^ork,  Ilaac  Riley  and  Co.     pp.  309. 

Brown's  felf-interpreting  Bible,  con- 
taining the  facred  text  of  the  Old  and 
New  Teftametits  ;  to  which  are  annexed, 
znarginal  references  and  illudrations  ;  an 
exai^  fummary  of  the  feveral  books  ;  a 
paraphrafe  on  the  mod  pbfcure  and  im- 
portant parts ;  an  analyfis  of  the  contents 
of  each  chapter,  explanatory  notes  and 
evangelical  reflections.  New- York,  T. 
&  J.  Ronalds. 

Human  Prudence,  or  the  art  by  which 
a  man  and  a  woman  may  be  advanced 
to  fortune,  to  permanent  honour,  and  to 
real  grandeur,  adapted  to  the  genius  of 
the  citizens,  and  defigned  for  the  ufe  of 
fchoolsin  the  United  States.  Firft  Amer- 
ican from  the  eighth  London  edition, 
with  many  corre^ons,  trandations,  and 
additions.  12^^).  75  cts.  bound.  Ded- 
ham,  Herman  Mann. 

Eleven  (elttSt  fermons  of  the  late  Rev. 
James  Saurin,  on  the  following  fubje<Sbs  : 
The  omniprefence  of  God  ;  the  manner 
of  praifing  God  ;  the  fovereignty  of  Je- 
fus  Chrift  in  the  church  ;  the  equality 
of  mankind  ;  the  work  of  the  foul  ;  the 
birth  of  Jefus  ChriA  ;  refurretflion  ;  the 
abfurdity  of  libertinifm  and  infidelity  ; 
the  harmony  of  religion  and  civil  polity  ; 
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Price  1  dol.  Philadelphia,  Thos.  &  Wm. 
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The  celebrated  Speech  of  Henry 
Orattan  on  the  motion  of  Mr.  Fox  in  the 
Imperial  Parliament  in  favour  of  thelrifli 
Catholicks.  Printed  from  the  Dublin 
copy.  8vo.  pp.  28.  Pr.  18  cts.  Balti- 
more, Fryer  &  Clark,  &c. 

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the  ulc  of  fchboi-i.  To  which  is  now  6f  ft 
ai<I<led,the  outlines  of  Englifli  Grammar. 
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Devout  Exerciio  ot  tlie  heart  in  medi- 
t2it  ion  and  foliloquy,  prayer  and  praife. 


By  the  late  pious  and  ingenious  Mrs.  £1h 
zabeth  Rowe,  reviewed  and  publifhed 
at  her  requeft.  By  J.  Watts,  D.  D. 
fmall  18mo.  I  vol.  pp.  189.  Charlef- 
town,  S.  Etheridge. 

Obfervations  on  the  Speech  of  the 
Hon.  John  Randolph,  reprefentative  for 
the  ftate  of  Virginia,  in  the  general  con^ 
grefs  of  America  :  on  a  motion  for  the 
non-importation  of  Britifh  merchandize, 
pending  the  prefent  difpute  between 
Great-Britain  and  America.  By  the  au- 
thor of  War  in  Difguife.  L.ondon,  print- 
ed :  New- York,  re-printed  for  Ezra  Sar- 
geant.     8va  pp.  44.     374  C- 

Perrin*s  Grammar  of  the  French 
Tongue,  grounded  upon  the  deciiions  of 
the  French  academy,  &c.  and  revifed  by 
New- York,    George    F. 


M.   Pocquot. 
Hopkins. 

Perrin's  French  Converfations. 
York,  G.  F.  Hopkins. 


New 


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Epiftles,  Odes,  and  other  Poems.  By 
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The  celebrated  heroi-comick  poem, 
ynri vailed  in  original  wit,  learning, 
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12mo.  pp.  300.  Price  1  dollar  bound.—- 
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York,  Ifaac  Riley  and  Co. 

Mrs.  Weft's  Letters  to  a  Young  Lady. 
New  York,  I.  Riley  and  Co. 

Meant)  of  preferving  Health,  and  pre- 
venting Difeafes  ;  founded  principally 
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MONTRLT  CATALOatnt. 


A  irfOCTimi—  of  mhan.    By  Sbadnd^ 
Bickecibo,  pkyiiciaa  in  New^Yox4c 


PROPOSED  TO  BE  PUBLISHED. 

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Vented  by  ftraight  lines  ;  hence  it  will  be 
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The  Shade  of  Plato,  ot,  adrfenctof 
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•ents  to  fttbfcribers.    Boftoo,  Etheridge. 

RoUin's  Ancient  Kftorv,  in  8  volumei 
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ville.  pp.  500  each  voL  Superfine  vrove 
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tween the  earth  and  all  the  other  ptaa- 
ets,  with  a  rule  for  finding  the  £Mne  :  5, 
the  order  of  the  planets  mverfed  :    7,  m 
defcription  of  the  earth  and  its  motions  t 
8,  a  defcription  of  the  aurora  borealia, 
with  its  cauTe  :  9,  the  caufe  of  the  vari- 
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the  winds  blowing  :    II,  natural  fonaa* 
tion  of  vegetables:     18,  defcription  of 
the  five  fenfes  :    1 3,  a  definition  of  ^e 
elements :    14,  the  caufe  of  rain,  hail, 
fnow,  frofts,  ^c.  8cc.  together    vrith   n 
great  variety  of  other  ufeful  matter.    B^ 
Stephen  Bradford,  of  Montgomery, Mcnv- 
York.    1  vol.  12mo.  with  nine  copper  •« 
plate  engravings.    Price  I  dot  bound. 
Newburgh,  New-Yoric. 


IXTELLIGEXCE. 


Mr.  Allen  B.  Magtodtr,  late  of  Keo- 
tncky,  has  for  feme  time  paft  been  col- 
lecting^ materials  for  a  General  Hiriory 
of  the  Indiana  of  North  America — their 
lihimbers,  Wars,&c.  for  which  purpofe  he 
has  reqaefted  the  afMance  of  thofe  gen- 
tlemen whofe  fituations  in  life  have 
keen  fuch  as  to  ri^nder  them  acquainted 


with  Indian  aftiiii.  Mr.  MmtuAct 
now  holds  an  appointment  under  uie  fro- 
Vernment  of  the  United  States  at  Mew- 
Orleans  ;  and  in  confequence  of  his  be* 
ing  necefllarilv  abfent  from  Kentucky,  He' 
authorized  the  Editor  of  the  Kentuclcy 
Gazette  to  receive  all  communicatlona 
on   the  aforemention^  fubje<5l.       T^is 


Digitized  by  VjOOQ IC 


IHTBLLIGENCE. 


5^1 


Xdker  iatro^ueet  ao  extffa&from  one  of 
thefe  docnmenti  in  the  following  manner. 

J  Since  the  departure  of  Mr,  Magmder 
.  from  this  place,  a  communication  waa 
inclofed  to  the  editor  for  him,  from 
which  the  following  is  extradted.  Some 
parts  of  the  communication  will, 
doubtlefs,  be  conildered  intereftiag. 

Tte  French  were  the  firft  ntUen  tf  wtaic 
Kople  that  ever  were  known  among  the  North- 
Wcftera  Indians.  When  the  BriUlh  and  French 
commenced  a  war  againft  each  other  in  North 
America,  the  North-Weftem  Indiant  Joined  th^ 
French,  and  of  the  Six  Nations  ioincd 

the  Britifli.  My  knowledge  of  the  adlom  that 
were  fonght  between  them,  is  derived  fntn  the 
•Id  Indian*,  that  I  havd  converibd  with  oo  that 
fnbjea,  aad  is  not  to  be  relied  OB. 

Aiter  the  Britiih  got  poflcffion  of  thii  coontry 

fiom  the  French,  a  Tawway  chief,  b jr  the  name 

of  Poucock,  renewed  the  war  againft  the  Britifli, 

•Ml  tMikalithe  potts  that  wereoccapled  by  them 

•a  the  lakes  and  their  waters,  in  one  day,  (Detroit 

excepted^  by  ftratagem.    After  this,  in  1 774,the 

war  broke  out  between  the  North-Wdtern  Indians 

and  the  Whites.    The  principal  aaton  that  waa 

fought  between  the  parties,  was  at  the  mouth  of, 

the  Great  Kanhaway— there  were  300  Shawa- 

nces  aad  Odawares,  and  a  few  MUmmles,  Wyk 

•Mines and  Mkigoos,  commanded  by  the  celebr»> 

ted  Slufwaoee  eblef,  called  Comftock.   Thk  was 

the  war  that  ended  at  the  treaty  of  Greenville. 

Although  at  different  times,  individual  nations 

would  treat,  or  pretend  t»do  fo,  with  the  Amct^ 

icaiu  i  it  was  only  a  temporary  thing  itotatrcr 

queotiy  happened,  that  whUe  a  party  of  Indians 

were  treating  with  the  Whites,  fome  of  their  own 

people  would  be  killing  tlie  very  people  that  thchr 

own  chiefs  were  treating  with. 

The  Indians  that  oppofed  general  SulHvan  were 
the  combined  forcca  of  the  fix  nations.  Thdr 
numbers  and  by  whom  commanded,  I  do  not 
know.  The  Indians  that  defeated  general  Craw- 
Ibtd  at  Sandttlky,  were  the  Wyan4ots,I>eUwareB, 
aiawanees,aodafiewoftheiixnations,or  Sena- 
cas  Powtowdttomiet  and  Ottoways,  laid  to  be 
800  In  number.  I  never  beard  who  commanded 
them.  As  the  Indians  always  keep  the  numt>er 
«#  their  killed  and  wounded  as  much  a  Secret  as 
polBblc,  I  ihall  not  undertake  to  fay  wlut  num- 
bers were  killed  and  wounded  at  cither  of  the  ac- 
Hona  above  mentioned. 

Bowman*8  campai^'n  waa  againft  the  Shawanees 
9n  the  Little  Miami  River.  I  am  not  acquainted 
with  any  of  the  particulars  of  the  adllon  tliat  took 
place  between  him  and  thofc  Indians  ;  alfo  my 
knowledge  of  the  dHTercnt  campaigns  carried  a- 
fOOsift  the  ttawaneea,  on  Mad  River  ami  Big  Mia- 
■oi,  by  general  Clarke,  i«  not  to  be  depended  on, 
VThen  general  Harmar  arrived  at  the  Miami 
IVwa,  he  felt  Col.  John  Harden  hifearch  of  the 
lodtees,  wkb  a  body  of  men,  when  he  met  300 
Miamies,  on  the  head  of  Eel  River,  commanded 
by  the  celebrated  MUmi  chief,  the  Little  Turtle 
L  adifvi  took  place— the  whites  were  defeat- 


cd-4he  Indisas  had  one  msA  iiBed  and  tis« 
wounded.  The  Indians  that  fought  the  Iroope 
tuider  the  comnsBd  of  Col.  HtrdcB,  in  the  Mia- 
ud  town,  were  the  joo  abere  nentlsned,  coa»' 
manded  by  theikme  cUef.  AUbabodyof^oo 
Indians,  compofcd  of  Shawaoees,  Ddawaits, 
Chippeways,  Pottowototnies  and  Ottoways— the 
Shawanees  commanded  by  thdr  own  chief,  Bhie 
J*cketj  the  DeUwares  by  Buckingeheles  j  the 
Ottoways  and  Chippeways,  by  Agalhewah,  an  Ot- 
toway  cWef.  The  Indians  fay  they  had  1  s  kHIed, 
and  a5  wounded.  General  Scott^  campaign  was 
•K^ioitthe  Weas  Town  on  the  Wabaih,  where  be 
met  with  little  or  no  oppofittons  isthewanloit 
of  the  Weas  expeded  that  Geneeral  8cot( 
was  going  againft  the  Miami  Town,  and  had  aV 
left  their  own  viUagc  to  meet  hhn.  At  that 
place  8  men  and  a  women  were  killed  by  t|^ 
troops  under  Gen.  Scott.  At  the  Weas,  the  num- 
ber of  women  and  children  he  took  prifonasL 
I  do  not  remember. 

Gen.  Wiftlnfbn*s  camprign  was  agahift  tb^ 
EclRivcr  Town,  where  there  were  but  a  few 
women  and  children,  and  ten  okl  men  and  three 
young  ones,  who  made  no  defence.  Four  mcD 
were  killed,  with  one  woman.  The  number  off 
women  and  children  taken,  I  do  not  recolleft. 
In  Ae  autumn  of  1 7po  an  army  of  Indians,  comi^ 
pofed  of  Miammies,  Detowares,  Shawanees,  and 
a  few  Pottowottomies,  300  hi  number,  com- 
manded by  the  Little  Turtle,  attacked  Dunlap's 
Station,  on  the  Big  Mlammi  Rhrer.  Thb  pott 
was  commanded  by  lieutenant  lOngfbury.  The 
Indlaas  hftd  10  kiBod,  and  the  fane  mnUm 
wounded. 

There  were  1133  Indians  that  defeated  Gen. 
St.  Clair,  in  1791.  The  number  of  diluent 
tribes  Is  not  remembered.  It  was  compolfed  9i 
Mtsiimitt,  »ottowottoml<s,  Ostowte*,  Chippo^ 
ways,  Wyandots,  Delawarss,  Shawanees,  and  # 
few  Mingoes  and  Cherokees.  Each  nation  ws« 
commanded  by  their  own  chief,  all  of  whom 
appeared  to  be  governed  by  the  LitUc  Tartlet 
who  made  the  amngement  for  the  a^oas,and 
commenced  the  attack  with  theMianunics,  wlio 
were  under  his  immediate  command.  They  had 
30  Wiled,  and  died  with  theh-  wounds,  the  dky 
of  the  aakm,  and  It  is  believed  50  wotmdeA. 

In  the  autumn  of  1 79a  an  amy  of  soolodiaov 
under  the  command  of  the  Little  Turtle,  com- 
pofcd  of  Miammies,  Delaw^ares,  Shawanees,  and 
a  few  Pottowottomies, at ucked  Col.  John  Adair, 
under  the  walls  of  Fort  5t.  Clair,  where  they- 
had  two  men  killed. 

The  30th  Jnoc,  tygf^,  an  army  of  1450  Itf 
diana,  corapoftd  of  Ottoways,  Chippeways,  BU- 
ammies  and  Wyandots,  Pottowottomies,  bhawt* 
nees,  DeUwares,  with  a  number  of  French  and 
other  white  men,  in  the  Britiih  interrfi,  atucked 
Fort  Recovery.  The  Indians  were  controanded 
by  the  Bear  chief,  an  Ottoway.  The  white  men, 
attached  to  the  Indian  axmy,  it  is  Cud,  were 
cummaiided  by  Eiliot  and  M'Kce,  both  Britifh 
ofRcers.  'Hie  parrifon  was  crmmanded  by  ctp- 
tain  GibfoB,  of  the  4th  fublegion.  The  Indians 
have  told  mt  repeatedly,  that  they  had  betweca 
46  and  50  killed,  and  upwards  of  100  wound^  ; 
a  number  of  whom  died.    This  was  the  fevercft 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


392 


MEDICAL   UEP0BT8. 


blow  1  erdr  knew  the  Indians  to  receive  froni 
the  Whites. 

The  Indians  that  fought  Gen.  Wayne  the  zoth 
of  Augult,  1 794,  were  an  army  of  boo,  made  up 
of  Wyandot*,  Chijipcways,  Ottoways,  Dciawarea, 
Shawancet,  Miammies  and  Potto wotiomies,  with 
a  number  of  whiu  traders  from  Detroit.  The 
Indians  were  governed  by  Britiih  influence,  atid 
had  no  commander  of  their  own  j  confequcnily 
they  made  but  little  refiftance.  It  is  (aid  they 
bad  20  killed  and  15  wounded^  This  battle  was 
'what  may  be  called  tlit  finifhing  blow  ;  as  no 
mBiioa  of  confequence  has  taken  place  between 
the    Whites  and  Indians  fince  that  time. 

There  was  no  fcparate  caufc  for  each  cam- 
paign of  the  Indians  agalnft  the  Whites.  The 
war  that  began  in  1774,  which  was  caufed  by 
the  ill  treatment  the  Indians  received  from  the 
Whites,  on  the  frontiers  of  the  white  fettlement, 
was  continued  by  the  Indians,  owing  to  the  great 
influence  the  BritUh  had  among  them.  Thlsin- 
iuence  was  kept  up  by  the  large  fupplies  of  arms 
and  ammunition  the  Indians  received  from  the 
Brltiih  government  every  year.  From  this  it  is 
cvklent,  that  if  the  United  States  had  have  got- 
ten pofleffion  of  the  polls  on  the  lakes,  that  tlie 
Britifti  government  had  agreed  to  deliver  up  to 
them  in  1783,  there  would  have  been  no  Indian 
war  after  that  time. 


Statement  qf  Disetueay  from  May 
20  to  June  20. 

The  close  of  May  was  remark- 
able for  a  cloudless  atmosphere, 
and  regular  cast  winds.  Vegeta- 
tion began  to  suffer  from  want  of 
moisture.  June  commenced  with 
pleasant  showers,  which  have  since 
fallen  every  few  days,  though  not 
in  sufficient  abundance  to  saturate 
the  soil.  The  winds  have  been 
almost  equally  from  the  south-west 
and  east,  and  sometimes  from  the 
north-east  and  north-west.  No  re- 
markable atmospherick  phenom- 
ena succeeded  the  eclipse  on  the 
1 6th,  unless  that  the  winds  have 
been  rather  more  violent  than  or- 
dinary. 

The  month  of  June  is  common- 
ly considered  here  to  be  the  health- 
iest month  of  the  year  ;  and  the 
present  has  so  well  verified  that 
opinion,  as  that  we  have  scarcely 
any  disease  to  record  ,  for  the  only 


prevalent  disorder  has  been  a  mild 
t>'phoid  fever.  A  few  cases  of 
cynanche  maligna  have  appeared. 
Vaccination  under  the  hands  of 
the  Boston  physicians  has  flourish- 
ed uncommonly  during  this  mouth 
and  the  two  preceding.  From  the 
data  we  can  obtain,  it  seems  pro- 
able  that  never  before  had  there 
been  so  great  a  number  of  cases, 
during  the  same  space  of  time.  No 
accident  has  occurred  to  impede 
the  progress  of  this  practice.  Wc 
would  however  hint  tlie  necessity 
of  constant  watchfulness,  lest  any 
imperfect  cases  should  escape  at- 
tention. 

Statement  of  Diseases^  from  Jime 
20  to  July  20. 

The  winds  of  the  month  past 
have  been  principally  from  the 
westward.  The  south-west  has 
prevailed  most  :  next,  the  north- 
west ;  and  the  pure  west  more 
than  usual.  Many  small  showers 
of  rain  have  fallen  ;  and  the  tem- 
perature of  the  atmosphere  has 
been  for  the  most  part  moderate. 

Derangements  of  the  stomach 
and  intestines  have  been  more  com- 
mon than  any  other  complaims. 
They  have  generally  appeared  with 
the  symptoms  of  colick,  and  yield- 
ed readily  to  medicine.  Some  of 
them  have  been  more  obhtinate, 
and  seemed  to  produce,  or  at  least 
to  precede,  an  invasion  of  fever. 
This  last,  of  which  there  has  been 
a  number  of  cases,  was  of  a  mild 
character.  A  very  few  instances 
of  typhus  gravior  have  occurred. 
This  is  the  moment  which  de- 
;nands  the  vigilance  of  the  police 
to  prevent,  as  far  as  their  powers 
can  do  so,  the  generation  or  intro- 
duction of  malignant  diseases. 
Some  instances  of  acute  rheuma- 
tism have  been  seen  this  month.     • 

Many  cases  of  vaccination  exist 
in  Boston. 


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THE 


MONTHLY    ANTHOLOGY. 


AUGUST,     1806. 


NATURAL  HISTORY. 


CE»TLKMtN, 

I  OBSERVED  In  your  publication, 
tome  months  ago,  a  description  of 
the  falls  of  Niagara.  Of  tbc  view 
of  that  wonderful  cataract,  more 
justly  than  of  a  perusal  of  Homer 
or  of  Milton,  may  it  be  said,  decicM 
re/ietita  filaccbit.  If  therefore  you 
think  a  second  picture  worth  look* 
ing  at,  you  may  publish  the  fol- 
lowing. But  that  you  might  not 
turn  with  disgust,  as  from  an  old 
subject,  1  have  transcribed  from 
my  journal  an  account  of  two  oth- 
er curiosities  in  the  remote  part 
of  New-York. 

Aug.  25.  We  had  frtnn  our 
host  at  Onondaga  a  very  copious 
description  of  the  salt  springs,  dis- 
tant only  six  miles  from  the  Wes- 
tern turnpike,  and,  altho'  the  road 
vas  tmpleasant,  we  did  not  regret 
ftiUowing  his  advice  to  visit  them. 
These  springs  are  on  the  border 
of  Onondaga  lake,  and  at  present 
above  its  level  ;  but  they  are  some- 
times covered  with  the  fresh  wa- 
ter of  the  lake.  Yet  the  works  are 
not  often  retarded  by  the  freshes, 
as  the  specifick  gravity  and  strong 
saline  virtue  is  not  diminished, 
unless  the  wind  blows  very  hard. 
Wc  know,  that  in  rivers,  as  the 
tide  rises,  the  fresh  water  often 
floats  above.  These  springs  may 
perhaps  be  found  in  any  part  of 

Vol.  III.  No.  8.     3B 


To  the  Editor*  of  the  Mcfrithfy  Anthology, 


the  marsh)  but  there  are  only  six 
pits  sunk.  From  these  are  made 
ninety^two  thousand  bushels  of 
salt  yearly,  that  pay  a  duty  of  four 
cents  per  bushel,  as  the  propriety 
of  the  soil  is  claimed  by  the  state  ; 
but  we  may  suppose,  that  no  small 
quantity  is  carried  off,  without  sat- 
isfying that  trifling  requisition. 

Almost  every  thing  here  is  con- 
ducted without  system  ;  for  the 
government  of  the  state  will  dis- 
pose of  the  soil  only  in  leases,  nev- 
er exceeding  seven  years.  This 
may  indeed  prevent  monopoly  ; 
but  it  also  restrains  the  employ- 
mont  of  capital,  and  diminishes 
the  utility  of  the  gift  of  nature. 
The  water  is  raised  from  the  pits 
by  pumps,  which  have  heretofore 
been  worked  by  men;  but  this 
year  has  so  far  enlightened  the 
overseers,  as  to  induce  them  to 
construct  machinery  for  raising  the 
water  to  be  moved  by  a  horse. 
From  these  pumps  spouts  run  to 
the  boiling  houses  on  the  bank, 
about  seven  or  eight  feet  above  the 
marsh  ;  but  as  the  wood  in  the  im- 
mediate vicinity  is  nearly  exhaust- 
ed, an  aqueduct  carries  this  pi*e- 
cious  fluid  two  miles  along  the  bor- 
ders of  this  fresh  water  lake. 

We  were  told  that  no  Glauber 
salts  could  be  obtained  from  the 
water  ;  but  this  is  the  fault  of  thf 


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H4 


SALT  AND   SULPHUil  SPRlNOt. 


workmen^  rather  than  the  unkind- 
l>es8  of  nature.  They  neglect  too 
the  manu&cture  of  pot  and  pearl 
asheS)  carejcasjy  mincing  the  worth- 
less substance,  which  first  settles 
in  the  optmtbn  of  boiling,  with 

This  sediment  is^  collected  in  a 
ladle  put  into  the  bottom  of  the 
kettle,  or  adheres  to  the  sides,  from 
which  it  nmst  be  removed  by  an 
axe  before  it  acquires  the  thickness 
of  three  inches,  or  it  will  burst  the 
stoutest  of  them. 

The  workmen  here  are  miser- 
aWy  poor,  commonly  selling  tlieir 
salt  on  the  spot  at  not  more  than 
obc  fourth  of  a  dollar  per  bushel  ; 
and  they  say  ardent  liquors  are 
alisdutely  requkite  for  tiieip  sup*' 
port,  for  the  subterranetfi  blowers 
at  the  forges  of  Vulcan  never 
sweat  more. 

jfug.  2T.  We  turned  once  more 
from  the  great  road  to  visit  the 
sulphur  springs,  distant  about  four-> 
teen  miles  from  Geneva.  This 
spot  id  a  Popish  coimtry  would  be 
called  the  outlet  of  hell.  These 
springs  are  discoverable  by  the 
nose,  at  some  seasons,  for  a  mile 
round  ;  but  we  were  not  favoured 
With  the  fragrance,  more  than  a 
quarter  of  Ikat  distance.  The 
road  within  two  or  thDer  miles  in 
each  direction  is  as  bad^  as  rocks^ 
stumps,  prominent  branches  and 
roots  of  trees,  with  ruts  on  the 
side  and  holes  in  the  middle,  can 
make.  Bridges  oi  large  logs, 
oonmonly  called  gridiron  bridges, 
occasionally  intervene  to  make  us 
regretythat  we  could  no  longer 
be  permitted  to  pass  thro^  the  mud. 

The  springs  are  very  numerous, 
bursting  out  in  every  part  of  the 
hill,  down  which,  united,  they  pour 
a  river  of  sulphur,  running  over 
Focks  of  sulphur,  cloathed .  with 
sulphureous  moss.  This  is  indeed 
tlie  appcaranoe,  for  every  thing.  U 


soon  covered  with  the  slimy  mat^ 
tef,  deposited  by  the  water  ;  and 
the  virtue,  or  rather  vice  of  tins 
fluid  is  so  greaty  as  to  turn  silver 
black  in  five  minutes.  In  the  bed 
of  the  stream  are  petrefactions,  of 
^hinh-  t^  miMt  miriaiii^  hdng 
leaves  and  mosses,  are  torn  off  with 
difficulty,  and  are  seldom  brought 
away  whole. 

From  one  of  the  springs,  near- 
est the  road,  the  water,  which  is 
clear  and  very  cold,  is  conveyed  to 
the  bathing-house.  Its  taste  i* 
disagreeable,  but  horses  drink  it 
with  avidity.  I  think  Dr.  Morsr 
has  said  the  same  for  the  Ballstown 
and  Sai*aU>ga  waters  ;  but,  though 
true  of  the  principal  spring  at  the 
latter  place,  every  body  assured* 
me  it  was  incorrect,  as  to  the 
former. 

The  soil  of  this  hill  is  very  soft,so 
that  one  may  thrust  a  stick  as  far  into 
it,  as  into  the  clay  pit  of  a  marsh. 
To  the  depth  of  two  feet  nothing, 
but  brimstone  is  found,  partially 
mixed  with  fibres  of  vegetables, 
and  roots  of  trees,  "  fit  to  be  the 
mast  of  some  great  admiral." 
Had  this  place  beeh  known  to 
Mihon  before  his  blindness,  how 
would  his  inexhaustible  imagina- 
tion have  exulted  in  the  cojmous- 
ness  of  description  it  might  have 
yielded.  But  the  palace  of  Satan  • 
is  well  situated  at  present,  though 
it  might  have  found  a  better  scite. 

There  stood  a  hill  not  fw,  whose  grisly 

top 
Belch'd  fire  and  rolling  smoke,  the  rest 

entire 
Shone  with  a  glossy  scurf,  undoubted 

That  in  his  womb  was  hid  metalUck  ore» 
The  work  of  sulphiu-. 

The  accommodations  (we  must' 
use  that  word)  are  not  worth  the 
name.  A  log  house  is  the  chief^' 
whioh  contains  two  rooms  ;  but' 
the  otrqer  b  boUcfing  another  hooae^ 


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mMoafm*9  fSKiTAMinouB. 


188S 


the  springs  somebody  has  raised  a 
;hut  of  boards,  coUining  neither 
xbimoey,  nor  ohair,  nor  window, 
tiior  partition  ;  but  he  has  chalked 
in  front  the  letters  «  HOTEL/' 
juid  on  one  aide  ^<  Biimsjbone  and 
Whiskey/*  Our  divines  never 
thought  of  so  indmate  a  connexion 
an  this  world. 

The  number  of  rick  who  rcswt 
here,  increases  yearly.  In  many 
cases  the  waters  are  salubrious  ; 
%ut  BS  brimstone  wiB  always  be 
.junfashionable,  the  place  will  hardly 


become  «  moH  for  those,  mhbi^ 
only  complaint  is  ennui. 

The  president  of  th^nitediStatw 
wished  to  purchase  -^^these  sprii)g» 
for  the  government  ;  but  Powell 
of  Geneva  has  anticipated  faim. 
I  believe  any  merchant  coiild  have 
assured  him,  that  sulphur  is  im- 
ported from  Italy  ro^uch  cheaper, 
than  this  could  be  carried  from 
here  to  New-York. 

The  description  of  the  cataract 
of  Niagara  is  deferred  to  our  nex|t 
number. 


CRITICISM. 


TVcnulated  for  the  Anthology  from  the  C<mr§  de  Literature  qf  La  Sarpe, 

Continued  from  pagt  348. 

RACIKE's     BRITANNIGVft. 


BQiLi&At7,and  that  small  number 
<«f  men  of  taste,  who  judge  and  are 
.ailentf  while  the  multitude  is  clam- 
•■orous  and  deceived,  perceived  in 
this  new  workian  improvement  In 
^diction.  In  that  oS  And^mache^  ad- 
mirable as  it  is,  there  was  still  some 
graces  of  youth,  some  verses  which 
were  £seble4ncorrect,or  neglected. 
Here  every  tMng  carries  the  im- 
jpression  of  maturity .  Every  thing 
is  master  ]y,  every  tiling  is  finish- 
ed. The  conception  is  vigorous, 
and  the  execulioli  without  a  blem- 
ish. AgripjMna  is  represented,  as 
in  Tacitus,  greedy  of  power,  in- 
triguing, imperious,  caring  little 
to  live  iwt  to  reign,  emplo^-ing 
equally  for  her  purposes  the  vices, 
the  virtues,  and  the  weaknesses  df 
all  who  surround  her;  flatteripg 
Pallas  to  get  possession  of  Clau4Uis ; 
^rotectiu^  BritanoicMs  as  a  x:heck 
iiponNero  ;  making  use  of  Bwrhus 
and  of  Seneca  to  soften  the  fero- 
,ciotis  nature  Which  she  dreads  in 
iier  SOD,  and  to  conciliate  pop^Ur- 
ity  to  bis  jrovcrnment  which  she 
shares  with  him.     If  she  interests 


herself  for  the  consort  of  Nero,  it 
is  from  fear  that  a  mistress  woiiU 
have  too  much  influence  oi;icr  him. 
She  even  employs  the  simulatisn 
,qf  a  maternal  tendemess,which  she 
docs  not  feel,  to  recover  Nero,who 
endeavours  to  escape  from  her 
snares. 

I  have  bat  one  fim.     Oh  Heaven,    who  nov 

hean  me  1 
Have  I  ever  made  any  vows  but  for  him  \ 
'Remorfie,  fear,  danger,  nottiixig  has  retoUnM  ue. 
Jhnveoonqoer'dhli  oontempti  I  tmnH^  away 

aay  eyes 
'  rrom  mlsforttmes  which  at  that  time  were  an- 

nounc*d  to  me. 
I  have  doneall  In  my  power i  yoordgo, that  Ja 

enoogh. 
With  my  liberty,which  you  haveraviihed  liromme. 
Take  allb  my  life.  If  you  wlfli  it, 
Provided  that  by  my  death  thlteKaUpcmfcd  peopla 
Woufd  not  rav^  fr^  yoo,  what  iiaa  coft  mc  f» 

dear. 

This  plain  and  literal  trantla- 
.ti«asn  prose  gives  bo  idea  of  Uie 
oiiginal. 

ye  n^ai  qu*un  fih  :   0  C^U  ^'  nCentende 

amourd*hui  ! 
T^^i'je  fait  quelquet  vmue  gut  ne  faneut 

JkHirlui  P 
Memtifiity  eritiHtf,  f(/iU,  rien^  m*a  r^temik. 
y*ai  vaineu  tes  mfyrU  tfai  detoumt  lami^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


Sf6 


mAciirB'f  imiTAVKieut. 


Jkanalhtmm^  dk  itm  me  fima  an* 

nonut. 

atcez. 
Jvec  ma  Ubertiqve  vout  ftCcnez  raxit^ 
Si  vout  tetmihaitniprenez  encore ma^e, 
Bounm  que  par  ma  men  temt  ee  peufde 

irrite, 
^  Nie  vou*  ravitie  pae  ce  qui  TtCa  tant  coute. 

What  address  in  these  two  last 
lines  !  She  dares  not  directly 
threaten  Nero  :  he  has  already  ar- 
rested her  ;  he  may  proceed  far- 
ther :  he  had  before  explained 
himself  in  such  a  manner,  as  to 
make  her  understand  that  he  was 
determined  to  shake  off  the  yoke  ; 
she  dreads  to  excite  the  tyger  to 
fury.  It  was  to  Burrhus  that  she 
said  a  little  before  :  Let  him  con* 
sider, 

Tlut  by  redudae  n«  to  tbe  nteemtf 
Of  exertlBg  agaUilt  him  my  fieeble  aothority. 
He  hasards  his  own,  and  that,  in  the  balance* 
Mf  name  perhaps  will  have  more  wdgbt  than  lie 
fiillpeds. 

^'tfn  me  reduisant  a  la  necestite 
lo^euayer  contre  lui  ma  foible  atUoritS, 
II  hazard  lasierme,  et  que  done  la  9a- 

loMce 
Mon  nom,  peut-etre  aura  pliit  de  poide 

quHlneptnte. 

But  it  is  not  to  Nero  that  she  dares 
to  say,  if  you  attempt  my  d';struc- 
tiont  have  a  care  of  youraelf.  She 
contents  herself  with  giving  him 
to  understand  it,  in  a  manner  that 
cannot  offend  bim^md  gives  to  her 
menaces  the  tone  of  interest  and 
friendship.  But  scarcely  hanNero, 
who  dissembles  better  than  his 
mother,  said  t6  her, 


Very  well,  fpeak  then: 
BM  dof 


what  would  you  havt 


£h  bien^  donepreneneez  •-  que  voulez  voui 
qu*on  Jaste  f 

she  reassumes  all  her  pride  ;  as 
soon  as  she  thinks  herself  sure  of 
her  power,  she  dictates  the  law. 

PunMh  the  preemption  of  my  aeculitrs  i 
Soothe  the  rcicntment  of  BriUnnlcus ; 


L«t  Jtaia  take  tht  ibIlMiA  At  ctedta. 

Set  them  both  at  llberty,and  let  Pallas  ranafi^ 

The  spiing  was  only  constrained  ; 
it  acts  with  greater  impetuosity. 
It  is  thus  that  a  character  shewt 
itself  entire  upon  the  stage.  And 
when  Junia,  constantly  agitated 
with  alarms  inseparable  from  love, 
appears  to  retain  some  distrust  of 
the  sincerity  of  Neco,  with  what 
haughtiness  does  Agrippina  re- 
proach her. 

Are  yog  diffident  of  a  rcconcniatton  that  1  myfcif 
haveaudel 


It  is  enough,  I  havetbokcn  to  him«  aad  every 
thing  Is  changed. 

Doutez  vout  d*une  paie  dont  je  faie  mfie, 
ouvrage  9 

Iltuffit^faiparliy  tQUt  a  change  deface. 

Is  not  this  the  ordinary  policy  of 
all  those,  who  enjoy  a  boi^owed 
power  ?  One  of  the  means  of  pre- 
serving it,  is  to  make  others  believe 
it.  The  detail,  into  which  she  en- 
ters with  Junia  afterwards,  has  a 
double  effect ;  it  shews  to  the  spec- 
tator the  intoxicated  pride,  to  which 
Agrippina  abandons  herself  in  the 
joy  of  her  new  &your,  and  the  pnn 
found  dissimulation,  of  which  Nero 
has  been  capable.  I  say  nothing 
of  the  style  :  it  is  above  all  praise. 

Ah  1  if  yoa  had  IbcQ  with  how  many  carefles 
He  has  renewed  to  me  the  fincerity  of  his  promifici  I 
By  what  embraces  he  has  detained  me  I 
His  arms,  when  'we  parted,  could  not  iitparatf 

from  me  j 
His  natural  klndnea,lmprinted  on  his  coontcnanoct 
Condcfeanded  to  the  mloatct  fiecretf. 
He  powed  out  his  ibol,  Uke  a  fy^  who  comes, 

with  freedom 
To  forget  hb  pride  In  the  bofom  of  his  mother. 
But  Immediatdy  refbming  a  fevcre  countenance. 
Becoming  an  emperoor  when  taldng  council  of 

his  mother. 
His  asguft  conftdrace  put  into  my  lunda 
Secrets,  on  which  depend  tlie  deft  hiy  of  mankind. 

Ah  /  91  voue  aviez  v»>  par  eomhien  de 

careMet 
Jl  rrCa  renouvelUlafoi  de  tet  premeeeee  / 


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BACIKft's  imiTANHlCUt. 


3dr 


Tar  quels  emibraetmetSa  il  ^ient  de  mW* 

reter  / 
Se*  brat,  dans  not  adieux,  ne  pouvaient 

mt  quitter. 
Safaciie  hontr,  tur  ton  front  ripandue 
yutcpi'  aux  moindret  tecrett  ett  d*abord 

detcenuue. 
Jl  t'epanchait  enjiltf  qui  vient  en  liberte 
Dant  le  tein  de  ta  mire  oublier  taferts. 
Mait  bientct  reprenant  un  vitage  severe, 
Tel  que  d  *un  emperew  qui  contulta  ta  mere, 
Sa  confidence  augutte  a  mit  entre  met 

mainet 
Det  tecrett  d'ou  depend  le  detiin  det  ku" 

mains. 

What  lofty  expressions  !  and  how 
are  they  calculated  to  give  an  high 
idea  of  her  power ! 

Ko,wc  must  acknowled^,tohis  honour. 
His  heart  harbours  no  dark  malice  ; 
They  are  our  enemies  only,  who,  miarep* 

resenting  his  goodness. 
Have  abused,  to  our  disadvantage,  the 

mildness  of  lys  natiu*. 
But  finally,  in  their  turn,  their  influence 

declines  ; 
Rome  once  more  is  about  to  recognize 

Ajfrippina. 
Alrea<fy  they  adore  the  reputation  of  my 

favour. 

^011,  //  tefaut  ici  conf ester  a  ta  ploire. 
Son  emur  n*enjerme  point  un  malice  noire  g 
£t  not  teult  ennemJes,  alterant  ta  bonte, 
Jbutaient  contre  nout  de  tafacilite. 
Afait  enfin,  a  ton  tour,  leur  puissance  de- 
cline ; 
Home  encore  taiefoit,  va  reeonnHtre  Agrip- 

pine. 
4h;a  de  ma/aveur  on  adore  le  bruit. 

*<  They  adore  the  report  of  my  far 
vour"  !  What  happy  boldness  in 
the  choice  of  words  !  And  this 
boldness  U  so  exactly  measured, 
that  it  appears  perfectly  simple  ; 
reflection  alone  perceives  it  :  the 
poet  conceals  himself  under  the 
personage. 

Finally,  when  Britannlcus,  mor- 
tally poisoned,  has  shewn  all  that 
might  be  expected  from  Nero, 
-r\grippi?ia,  who  has  no  resource 
remaining,  thinks  only  of  teriifying 
h^ifi  l?y  her  fury. 


Go  on,.  Nero  :  withtudimiAitterv 

You  are  in  the  high  road  to  distmguish 
yourself  by  glorious  deeds. 

Go  on :  after  this  8tep,you  cannot  return. 

Yaur  band  has  begun  with  the  blood  of 
your  brother  ; 

I  foresee  that  your  strokes  will  at  last 
reach  your  mother. 

From  the  bottom  of  your  heart  I  know 
that  you  hate  me. 

You  wish  to  throw  off  the  yoke  of  mr 
benefactions. 

But  I  hope  that  my  death  will  be  of  n» 
use  to  you ; 

Thiiik  not,  that,  in  dying,  I  shall  leave 
you  at  your  ease. 

Rome,  these  heav<jns,  thb  light,  which 
youreceiv'dfipom  me, 

Eveiy  where,  every  moment,  will  pre- 
sent me  before  you. 

Yoiu-  contritions  will  pursue  you,  like  so 
many  furies  : 

You  will  think  to  compose  them,  by  oth- 
er barbarities. 

Your  rage,  increasing  in  its  course. 

Will  pollute  all  your  days  with  freak 
streams  of  blood. 

But  I  hope  that  heaven,  at  last  weary  of 
your  crimes. 

Will  add  your  perdition  to  so  many  oth- 
er victims  I 

That,  after  having  defiled  jwurself  with 
their  blood  and  mine. 

You  will  find  yourself  compelled  to  pour 
out  your  ovm  ; 

And  your  name  will  appear  in  all  futur# 
ages 

The  severest  reproach  to  the  most  cruel 
oftjTants. 

Pourtuis,  Keron  .•  awe  de  tele  min^stret 
Par  defaitt  glorieux,  tu  vat  te  tignaler. 
Pourtuit  :  tu  n^ a  pat  fait  ee  pat  pour  re* 

Ciller. 
Ta  main  a  commence  par  le  sang  de  ton 

frere  / 
ffeprevoie  que  tet  coupt  viendr^  jmqu'a 

tamere. 
Dant  lefond  de  ton  Caur  je  sait  que  tu  me 

kais. 
Tu  voudrat  t^affranehir  du  joug  de  met 

bierfaitt  ; 
Maitjeveux  que  mamort  te  toit  mcnie 

inutiie  ; 
Ne  crois  pat  qu*en  mourant  je  te  laitst 

traiiquille. 
Pome,  ce  del,  cejottr  que  tu  requtdc  moi, 
'Par-tout,  a  tout  moment,  m*offrirant  de- 

vant  tci. 
Tet  remords  ft  suivront  coirime  autant-de 
furiet  f 


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^n 


M^kcmf^  VBrrivnova 


Ta  JurcMTt  ^ irritant  md^mOme  dmf  *oh 

C9Mttf 

iyim  umg  tam^oim  momoeaufnanqtiaraioug 

teijour*. 
Jilau  fe^fert  qt^enfin  U  cui,lai  de  tm 

diBMttra  ta  ptrte  m  tant  d'autret  vietimu  ,• 
^apret  fitre  coui^ert  de  leur  tang  et  du 

nueth 
Tu  te  verras  force  de  repandre  le  tkn  / 
£t  ton  twwi  paraitra,  dan*  la  race  fiourt^ 
Aux  plus  cruets  tp-mu  une  cruelle  injure. 

Here  is  an  example  of  that  aK, 
so  common  in  Racine,  of  giving  to 
die  strongest  ideas  the  most  simple 
expressions.  To  tell  a  man  that 
Siis  name  will  be  a  reproach  to  ty- 
TMitSt  is  of  itself  terrible  ;  but  te 
the  cruellest  of  tyrants  the  most 
crud  of  injuries  I  Invective  can 
imagine  nothing  beyond  this,  but 
it  is  not  too  much  for  Nero  ;  his 
name  is  become  that  of  cruelty  it- 

What  fearful  truth  is  revealed 
in  the  portrait  of  this  monster  in 
his  infancy  !  It  is  one  of  the  most 
striking  productions  of  the  genius 
p(  Racine,  and  one  of  ;those  which 
prove  that  this  great  man  could  do 
every  thing.  Nero,  as  Racine 
well  observes,  had  not  yet  assassin- 
ated his  brother,  h)s  niother,  nor 
his  preceptor  ;  he  haa  not  yejt  set 
fire  to  Rome  ;  and  yet  every  thing 
he  says,  every  thing  he  does,  in 
the  whole  course  of  the  piece,  an- 
nounces a  soul  naturally  perverse 
and  atrocious.  But  how  long  a 
time  elapsed  before  the  publick 
acknowledged  the  prodigious  me- 
rit of  this  part  !  It  was  an  obliga- 
tion that  they  owed  at  last  to  the 
inimitable  Le  Kain  ;  and  it  was 
the  effort  of  a  great  actor  to  bring 
down  to  the  comprehension  of  the 
multitude,  what  none  but  connois- 
seurs had  perceived.  As  the  name 
of  Nero  seemed  to  promise  ev^ry 
'thing  the  most  odious,  and  during 


the  novelty  of  BrkoRiiciit  tfie 
heads  of  the  audience  were  set  tp 
the  tone,  which  Comeille  had  in- 
troduced lor  thirQr  years,  thcf 
were  astonished,  that  be  had  jiQ|t 
habitually  in  his  mouth  the  most 
infernal  maxims  ;  that  he  did  not 
glory  in  his  wickedness  ;  that  he 
betrayed  the  least  shame  at  beii^ 
thought  a  poisoner.  In  a  wordi 
the  publick  thought  him  much  too 
good.  These  are  the  expressions 
which  Racine  uses  in  his  prefieu^e  : 
It  is  true  that  he  has  not  the  rhe- 
torick  of  crimes  ;  but  he  has  all 
the  calm  and  refined  atrocity,  and 
all  the  reflecting,  deliberate  depth 
of  wickedness.  Examine  his  con- 
duct. He  hears  the  beauty  of  Ju- 
aia  mentioned  ;  his  first  emotion  is 
to  carry  her  off,  even  before  he  has 
seen  her  ;  and  upon  the  bare  sus- 
picion, that  Britannicus  might  per- 
haps he  loved  by  her,  his  nrst 
words  are» 

So  much  the  more  unfortunate  for  hka^ 
if  he  has  gained  her  aflecUons, 

Narcissus,  he  ought  rather  to  wish  for 
hei*  aversion. 

None  diall  exci^  jealousy  in  Nero  wit^ 
impunity. 

D^autant  plus  fnallteurewc  qu^U  aura  *9 

lui  plairCf 
Narcitte,  H  doit  plutU  souhaiter  «a  colere. 
Jfent  impmumentne  *era  par  jaimoe. 

He  has  scarcely  seen  Junia  for 
a  moment,  when  the  death  of  his 
liival  and  bixHher  is  already  rcsdv- 
ed  in  his  heart.  But  he  prepares 
for  him  another  punishment :  He 
will  have  Junia  herself  tell  himt 
that  he  must  renounce  her  ;  and 
to  compel  her  to  make  this  decla- 
ration, he  declares  to  her,  that  Brity 
annicus  is  a  dead  man,  if  she  does 
not  obey.  It  has  been 'said,  that  it 
is  a  trifling  incident,  and  below  the 
dignity  of  tragedy  to  make  Nero 
conceal  himself,  during  the  inter- 
view between  the  two  lovers. 
This  is  true  :   but  here,  I  thinl^ 


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YMft  irSMAHRIC: 


tbe  eflbct  raised  and  justifies  the 
means.  The  danger  is  so  near 
and  real,  that  the  scene  is  tragical, 
and  to  prove  this  I  need  otily  ap- 
peal to  the  effect  at  the  theatre. 
This  IS  the  moment,  when  the  love 
of  Britannicus  and  Junia  becomes 
interesting,  because  both  terrour 
and  pity  are  then  excited  by  it. 
Their  situation  is  cruel,  and  we 
cannot  but  tretnble  for  them^ivhen 
xfe  recollect  these  terrible  words  of 
Nero: 

Concealed  in  soDfie  place,  I  shall  see 

you,  madani. 
Imprison  your  love  in  the  bottom  of 

your  hearty 
You  can  have  no  secret  language  that 

shall  be  secret  from  me. 
I'AmSI  understand  your  looks,  which 

you  may  think  rimte. 
And  tuB  destruction  shall  be  the  infklli- 

ble  reward 
Of  a  gesture  or  a  sigh  that  shall  escape 

you  to  please  him. 


Menfermez  votre  amour  dofwlafond-dt* 

vofre  ante. 
P'oui  r^aurez  point  pour  mot  det  limgaget- 

ttcrttff 
yentndtai  dtt  rt^tardi  que  voui  &oirtz^ 

mueu, 
Et  fa  ptrte  oera  PinfaHUblaalairt 

lyun  gttte  ou  (PuH  aoufir  khappi-pout  Itt* 
plaire. 

With  this  style  and  this  situa- 
tion any  thing  may  be  ennobled. 
Let  it  be  observed,  as  we  proceedr< 
that  a  theatrical  effect  may  obtaia 
pardon  even  for  false  measure^- 
though  it  cannot  justify  them  ;  but 
a  common  measure,  and  one  in  it- 
self trifling,  may  be  elevated  by 
the  art  which  is  employed  in  dis* 
posing,  it,  and  is  no  longer  s^ 
fault. 

To  be  continued. 


REMARKER. 


JVb.  12. 


*  Had  I  the  plantation  of  this  isle,  my  lord» 
And  were  the  king  of  it,  what  would  I  do  ? 
I  would  with  such  perfection  govern,  sir. 


To  excel  the  golden  age.** 

THE  office  of  the  Remarkeris 
not  confined  to  speculations  on 
morals  and  literature,  but  will  oc- 
casionally be  extended  to  the  delin- 
eation of  schemes  for  the  whole 
country.  Objectsof  national  con- 
cern ought  to  employ  the  most 
active  exertions  of  every  individ- 
ual, and  the  labours  of  our  states- 
men ought  to  be  diminished  by  the 
assistance  of  every  citizen,  who 
possesses  leisure  and  ingenuity  to 
devise  means  of  puhlick  safety  and 
piivate  repose. 

Since  the  liberation  of  our  coun- 
trymen from  the  tuition  of  a  cruel 
stepdame,  who  fondly  hoped  that 
in  the  decrepitude  of  age  she 
should  be^nouiished  and  sustained 


Shakksp. 

by  our  labour  and  lovtc,  our  citizen^^ 
while  engaged  in  lawful  commerce 
have  been  exposed  to  violence  and ' 
impressment.  The  licensed  buc- 
caniers  and  royal  robbers  of  the 
ocean  have  divorced  our  citizens 
from  their  friends  and  families,  and 
compelled  them  to  exert,  in  xht 
sernce  of  a  king,every  muscle  not 
palsied  by  fear  of  the  thong  and 
the  scourge.  Remonstrance  only 
admonishes  them  of  their  power  of 
inflicting  still  greater  injuries,  and 
the  specious  plea  of  justification  is, 
that  similarity  of  language  ftrevtntt 
diBcrimination  between  Englishmcii 
and  Americans,  It  is  now  propos- 
ed to  strike  at  the  rook  of  the  evil, 
and  to  construct  a  language  ch- 


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400 


THB  11SMARKKII4 


tirelf  novel.  This  language  must 
be  composed  of  five  parts,  viz.  one 
part  Indian,  another  Irish,  and 
three  fifths  Negro  tongue.  These 
ingredients  well  mixed  will  consti- 
tute a  language  unintelligible  by 
any  human  nation  from  Gades  to 
Ganges.  As  drivers  of  herds  of 
cattle  sometimes  bind  a  spat  across 
the  horns  of  a  fierce  bullock  to 
prevent  his  escape  in  the  thickets 
of  the  forest,  so  will  this  languaj^ 
debar  us  frorti  all  intercourse  with 
other  nations,  and  \ri\\  erect  a 
strong  wall  of  partition  between 
us  and  our  adversaries. 

Without  doubt  this  plan  will  be 
strenuously  opposed  by  those,  who 
are  continually  declaiming  against 
the  subversion  of  ancient  institu- 
tions, and  the  destruction  of  an- 
cient principles.  But  it  is  reason- 
able that  man  should  pursue  a 
course  analogous  to  that  of  nature, 
ivhich  is  a  process  of  continual 
change,  of  decay  and  revivalw— 
Flowers,  whose  existence  is  brief, 
and  which  flourish  only  for  the 
scythe^  are  ever  most  beautiful  and 
fragrant.  Besides,  a  virtuous  re- 
publican government  induces 
Tnodes  of  thought  and  of  action, 
so  diflfercnt  from  those  produced 
by  a  monarchy,  that  many  of  the 
term§  of  the  English  language  are 
in  this  country  as  insignificant  and 
destitute  of  meanings  as  the  repre- 
sentatives of  old  Sarum  are  of  con- 
stituents ;  and  the  bold  and  the  ori- 
ginal thoughts  of  Americans  per- 
ish, as  would  giants  in  this  pigmy 
land,  because  they  could  not  be 
cooped  in  our  cabins,  or  covered 
by  our  garments.  On  account  of 
this  paucity  of  terms,  adapted  to 
our  ideas,  most  of  our  authoi*s  and 
holiday  orators  have  been  compel- 
led to  invent  new  words,  and  make 
ojir  language  as  various  as  the  face 
of  our  country. 

It  wUi  be  perceived,  that  this 


new  Icmguage  is  thtf  result  of  t 
spirit  of  compromise  and  concilia* 
tion,  and  that  those  classes  of  dti* 
zens,  which  are  most  numerous, 
contribute  most  to  its  formation. 
If  we  inspect  the  American  court 
calender,  we  shall  immediately  as- 
certain, that  in  selecting  materials 
for  this  language,  due  attentkxi 
has  been  paid  to  the  origin  and  de- 
scent of  those  who  guide  the  des- 
tinies of  our  nation  :  the  most 
eminent  of  whom  are  of  Irish  or 
Indian  blood.  We  need  not  the 
aid  of  the  college  of  heraWs  to 
trace  the  lineage  of  our  greatest 
orator,  Randolph,  to  the  renowned 
Pocahontas... for  no  sachem  among 
the  aboriginals  could  huri  the  to- 
mahawk with  more  unerring  aim, 
or  could,  with  more  adroitness, 
mangle,  and  scalp,  and  lacerate  the 
trembling  victims  of  his  wrath. 
His  eloquence  is  of  the  whoopwf 
kind,  and  his  words,  "  like  bullets 
chewed,  rankled  where  they  en- 
tered, and,  like  melted  lead,  blis- 
tered where  they  4ighicd,'*  An 
ancient  author  thujs  describes  tliis 
species  of  eloquence  :  "  Magna 
ista  et  notabilis  cloquentia,  alumna 
licentix,  quam  stulti  libcrtatcravo- 
cabant,  comes  seditionum,  effrena- 
ti  populi  incitiuncntum,  sine  obsc- 
quio,  sine  servitute,  contumax, 
temeraria,  arrogans,  qu»  in  bene 
constitutis  civitatibus  non  oritur.' 
The  fame  and  glory  of  our  ora- 
tors in  Congress  must  be  attrib- 
lUed  wholly  to  their  knowledge  of 
Indian  dialects.  Those,  who  utter 
pure  English,  are  fortunately  fe^i 
otherwise  the  circumstance  of  their 
receiring  their  tone  and  language 
from  a  foreign  couit,  would  sub- 
ject them  to  punishment,  as  it  now 
does  to  suspicion  and  disgrace. 

The  excellencies  of  the  propo- 
sed dialect  will  be  numerous ;  it 
will  not  possess  the  quality  of  har- 
mony, so  that  it  may  be  conge- 


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tHK  RKMA&KER^ 


401 


tiial  to  the  nature  of  our  govern- 
ment ;  and  as  it  will  be  difficult  to 
be  uttered,  it  will  counteract  tu- 
muils  and  seditions,  which  are  u- 
Bualiy  the  effect  of  sudden  and  in- 
considerate expressions  of  anger 
and  Indignation.  Our  country- 
men, like  the  wing-footed  horses 
of  Photbus,  need  restraint,  rather 
than  impulse. 

Spontc  sua  properant ;  labor  est  inhi- 
bere  volentes. 

They  are  not  pei'fect,  and  no  one 
ought  to  expect  that  American 
citizens  should  be  Gods,  till  they 
^rc  nourished  by  nectar,  and  breathe 
aether  on  Olympus.  In  forming 
this  language,  our  great  object  is 
to  conform  -to  the  sacred  rights  of 
the  majority,  and  therefore  we 
banish  ail  delicacy  and  beauty  ; 
for  he  that  would  move  minds  that 
are  material,  and  souls  that  are 
"sensible,  must  use  instruments 
ponderous  and  palpable,  otherwise 
his  labour  will  be  as  vain  and  fu- 
tile as  was  that  of  -fineas,  when, 
in  the  nether  world,  he  instinct- 
ively put  his  hand  to  the  sword, 
and  would  have  smote  the  disem- 
bodied spirits,  "  et  frustra  ferro 
diverberet  umbras." 

Republicans,  who  seek  right  and 
follow  reason,  ever  prefer  utility  to 
rlegance ;  they  use  language,  as  a 
medium,  not  as  a  commodity.  The 
materials,  which  we  have  selected, 
will  compose  a  currency,  cum- 
brotis  as  the  iron  money  of  Sparta, 
and  base  as  the  copper  coin  of  Bir- 
mingham ;  but,  in  its  clumsiness 
and  relative  baseness,  will  consist 
its  intiinsick  value  ;  for  then  the 
cupidity  of  our  merchants  will  not 
be  tempted  to  exhaust  our  country 
of  its  circul  iting  m*:dium,  neither 
will  the  despot  of  the  world  exact 

Vol.  III.  No.  8.     3€ 


from  us  a  tribute  so  debased.  If 
we  wished  for  a  language,  as  a  vaN 
uable  commodity,  then  indeed  our 
words  should  resemble  *'  apples  of 
gold  set  in  pictures  of  silver," 
which  We  could  use  as  toys  for 
traffick. 

The  adoption  of  this  new  Ian* 
gUage  will  operate  very  favoura*- 
bly  on  our  foreign  relations,  and 
will  erect  a  barrier  more  powerful 
than  na\ies,  and  proclamations^ 
and  non ^intercourse  bills.  The 
policy  of  our  government  is  not  to 
exhaust  the  bowels  of  our  country 
to  afford  protection  to  commerce^ 
which  infects  the  manners  of  re- 
publicans with  a  thirst  for  lucre 
and  love  of  luxuries ;  which  im- 
ports the  elegancies  of  the  East, 
and'  yellow  fever  of  the  West  In- 
dies, and  supplies  silks  for  our  la- 
dies ;  and  slaves  for  our  lords. 
Though  our  ports  ire  thronged 
with  merchantmen,  richly  Iaden» 
they  receive  no  other  protection, 
than  one  gun-boat  to  each  port, 
"  ut  unoculus  inter  C8CC0S." 

When  this  language  shall  have 
become  common  "and  universal  in 
our  country,  we  shall  be  a  world 
by  ourselves,  aftd  will  surround 
our  territory  by  an  impregnable 
wall  of  brass,  and  all  sit  down,  each 
in  his  whirligig  chair,  and  philoso- 
phize. Then  our  oaks  shall  not 
be  ravished  from  our  mountains, 
and  compelled  to  sport  in  the  o- 
cean  with  mermaids  and. monsters 
of  the  deep  ;  but  they  shall  be  per- 
mitted still  to  wear  their  green 
honours,  and  their  foliage,  instead 
of  quivering  through  fear  of  the 
a:te  of  the  shipwright,  shsill  dahcc 
and  dally  with  Zephyrus.  Oub 
citizens  will  then  enjoy  all  the 
happiness  of  hermits,  and  all  the 
tranquillity  of  monks. 


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40% 


£NX«MATICAL   tflTAltn, 


AMUSEMENT. 
For  the  Monthfy  Anthology, 


kXtSIEURS  EDITORS, 

Bt  inserting  the  following  in 
your  Anthology,  to  exercise  the 
irits  of  the  American  literati,  you 
^vrill  oblige  a  subscriber. 

KEYSLER  in  his  tmvels  relates, 
that  at  Casaralta  the  family  of  the 
y  olta  have  a  scat  where  is  to  be  seen 
the  following  enigmatical  epitaph, 
irhich  has  exercised  the  wits  of  the 
literati  for  a>g^reat  number  of  years. 

0.  M. 

JSHa  LbIU  Criqtb 
Bee  VIr»  nee  Mailer,  nee   Androgyoft^ 

Mec  PoelU,  nee  Juvenla,  nee  Anus, 

Itoc  caitft,  ncc  meretrbc,  nee   imdica* 

Sed  OnmU. 

SubUU 

llcqae  PUBOb  neqoe  Fenro,  neqne  Veneoftt 

^  Sed  omnBxu. 

Kec  Ceelo,  nee  Aqnkt  nee  Terrii, 

Sed  nblque  Jaeet. 

Loeiot  Agatho  Priacfaift 

Nee  MAiftut,  nee  Anator;  nee  Ntcenariat« 

Mcque  aMtren*  neque  gaudent  neqne  flent 

Hane 

Nee  ikolMit  Btc  PynuDiMem,  nee  Sepnlchnunt 

Sed  omnia 

Sdr  et  DCKlt  Col  Potocrlt. 

Under  this  xnigma  a(re  the  fol- 
lowing lines  : 

Enigma 

Qgod  peperit  gloriie 

Antlqultas, 

Nee  periret  Inglorfaun 

Ex  andquato  macmoie 

file  in  novo  reparavlt 

'  AchiUet  Volu  Senator. 

For  the  benefit  of  your  readers, 
unacquainted  with  Latin,  I  insert 
XLeysler's  translation. 

<'  ^Am  Laclia  Crispis,  who  was 
«'  nehher  male,  female,  nor  her- 
"  maphrodite  ;  neither  a  girl,  a 
^  youth,  nor  an  old  woman  ;  jiei- 
**  ther  chaste,  a  harlot,  nor  a  mod- 
"  est  woman  ;  but  was  all  these. 
**  She    died    neither  by    &mine> 


<<  st^ord,  nor  poison  ;  but  by  aff 
"  three.  She  lies  neither  in  the 
"  air,  nor  in  the  water,  nor  in  the 
"  earth  ;  but  every  where.  Lu- 
**  cius  Agatho  Priscius,  who  was 
«  neither  her  husband,  nor  gallant, 
^  nor  relation  ;  neither  weeping, 
<*  rejoicing,  nor  mourning,  erected 
•*  this,  which  is neither  a  labrick, 
^  a  pyramid,  nor  a  tomb,  but  ail 
^  three  ^  but  to  whom  he  knows 
•*  and  yet  knoweth  not. 

<^  That  this  JEnigma,  the  inven* 
"  tion  of  ingenious  antiquity ,  might 
"  not  be  lost  by  the  decay  of  the 
^  ancient  marble  on  which  it  was 
**  first  engraven,  it  stsouis  here  cut 
<*  in  fresh  characters  by  order  of 
w  Achilles  Voka,  a  Senator." 

There  have  been  various  expla- 
nations of  this  famous  riddle.  Ma- 
rib  Michael  Angelo  will  have  it  to 
be  rain  ;  Fortunius  Licetus,  the 
beginning  and  ending  of  fnend- 
ship  ;  John  Casper  Gevartius  in*- 
terpretsit  to  be  love.  Zachary 
Pontinus  says  it  was  designed  for 
three  persons.  Johannes  Turrius 
is  of  opinion  that  it  is  the  materia 
prima,  '  Nicholas  Bamaud,  that  is 
an  eunuch,  or  the  philosopher's 
stone.  Agathias  Scholasticus,  that 
it  is  Niobe.  Rrchardus  Vitus  that 
it  is  the  rational  soul  or  the  idta 
Flatonia,  Ovidius  Montalbanus 
says  it  is  hemp.  Count  Malvasia 
interprets  it  of  a  daughter,  promis- 
ed to  apcrson  in  marriage,  who  died 
pregnant  with  a  male  child  before 
the  celebration  of  her  nuptials.  M. 
de  Cigogne  Ingrarule  has  discover- 
ed in  it  Pope  Joan.  Boxhom  says  it 
Is  a  shadow,  and  an  anonymoNs 
person  says  \i\&  un  Jietto^ 


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9tu  johhson's  souse,  bft. 


40S 


For  the  Anthology. 
ORIGINAL   LETTER. 


Birmingham,  June  19, 1806w 

jHY  I>£AR  FBltEND, 

Ybsterd  AT  I  travelled  the  whole 
distance  from  Buxton  to  Birming- 
ham (sixtyn^ne  miles)  in  a  post- 
chaise,  with  a  young  American 
born  near  Portsmouth,  and  we 
shall  probahly  keep  company  till 
we  reach  the  metropolis,  the  urds 
•acra^  the  city  of  the  gods.  TMs 
charming  country  is  worth  a  voy- 
lige  across  the  Atlantdck  to  behold. 
Ceres  and  Flora  must  have  laid 
.their  heads  together,  I  think,  to 
lay  it  out,  and  I  have  found  that 
Thomson's  Summer  is  a  perpetual 
^commentary  upon  tbe  road  I  have 
been  travelling. 

Yesterday,  about  5  o'clock,  p.  m. 
I  passed  through  Lichfield.  I 
purposely  delayed  dining  till  this 
late  hour,  that  I  might  spend  a 
longer  ^oie  on  this  classick  ground. 
As  soon  as  I  aiighted  at  the  hotel, 
I  inquired  ipr  the  liousa  where 
Dr.  Johnson  was.born.  I  was  im- 
jnediately  ^own  to  one  about  200 
rods  o£f,  and  I  am  sure  J  should 
not  have  walked  with  a  quicker 
Mep  or  with  more  expectation  to 
see  the  amphitheatre  of  Vespasian. 

The  house,  where  Johnson  was 
bom,  stands  in  the  centre  of  the 
town  of  Lichfield,  at  the  comer 
of  a  square,  within  a  few  paces  of 
4he  market  and  the  chui*ch  of  St. 
Mary's,  I  think.  It  is  now  an  old 
three-story  building,  rather  showy 
without,  and  rather  shabby  \vithin. 
The  first  apartment  on  the  lower 
floor,  which  was  the  bookstore  of 
Johnson's  father,  is  now  a  tinker'^ 
shop,  filled  with  copper  tea.-kettles, 
tin-pans,  candle-:iticks,  &c.  while 
a  small  room  adjoining  is  occupi- 
ed by  a  ipuaker  of  electrical  m'Ar 


chines.  In  the  chamber  over  this 
shop,  once  (tivided  into  two,  that 
mighty  spirit,  destined  to  illumi- 
nate the  generation  which  receiv- 
ed him,  and  to  exalt  our  estimate 
of  human  capacity,  was  ushered 
into  this  world.  This  chamber  is 
now,  as  I  imagine,  the  tinker's 
drawing  room  !  There  remains  a 
small  fire-place  in  one  comer,  and 
the  walls  are  hung  round  with  pal- 
try pictures. 

The  seasons  framed  ^th  listing  find  a 

place, 
And  brave  Prince  William  shows  his 

lampblack  face. 

The  floors  are  much  worn,  dirty, 
and  uneven,  and  every  thing  with- 
in the  house  bears  the  appearance 
of  poverty  and  decay.  The  tin- 
man, named  Evans,  was  not  at 
home  ;  but  his  wife,  a  chatty  old 
woman,  told  us,  in  answer  to  our 
queries,  that  the  present  rent  which 
they  paid  was  eighteen  guinea^, 
and  that  the  taxes  were  as  much 
more.  Tins,  to  be  sure,  is  quite 
as  much  as  such  a  house  would  be 
worth  in  Boston,  and  nothing  but 
its  central  Mtuation  can  render  it 
so  high.  The  old  lady  then  called 
her  little  grand-daughter  to  con- 
duct us  to  what  is  called  the  Parch- 
ment house,  to  which  Johnson's 
father  after>varcls  removed,  and  to 
sl>ow  us  the  willow  tree,  of  which 
there  is  a  tradition,  that  it  was 
planted  by  Johnson  or  his  father  ; 
but  nobody  knows  which.  How- 
ever tliis  may  be,  it  is  one  of  the 
^ost  remarkable  trees  in  all  Eng- 
land. It  is  certainly  twice  as  large 
as  any  willow  I  ever  saw  in  Ameiv 
ica,  and  it  is  allowed  to  surpass 
every  other  in  this  country.  The 
tinker's  wife  told  us  that  her  bousp 


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404 


BR.  J0RN10N*ft   HOUSE>  i^r. 


was  frequently  visited  by  travel- 
lers, and  I  dare  to  say,  that  the 
gratuities  which  she  receives  for 
her  civilities  in  showing  it,  amount 
at  least  to  the  rent  of  the  house. 
Here  is  a  subject  for  meditation. 
A  tinman  is  now  able  to  secure  a 
comfortable  habitation  by  showing 
the  chamber  where  Johnson  was 
bom...that  Johnson,  who  has  wan- 
dered many  a  night  through  the 
streets  of  London,  because  he  was 
unable  to  pay  for  a  lodging  ! 

As  we  were  returning  to  our 
inn,  we  espied  a  curious  figure  of 
an  old  man,  with  laced  round 
hat,  scarlet  coat,  with  tarnished 
trimmings  of  the  last  age,  with  a 
bell  under  hjs  arpn.  Upon  accost- 
ing him,  we  foupd  that  he  had  been 
town-crier  for  many  years,  and  a 
kind  of  Caleb  Quotem,  that  he  al- 
ways shaved  Dr.  Johnson  when  he 
came  to  visit  Lichfield,  that  his 
name  was  Jenney,  seventy-four 
years  old,  with  strength  and  spirits 
iinimpaired. 

The  cathedral  at  Lichfield  is 
worthy  the  attention  of  every  trav- 
eller. Who  shall  say  that  the 
daily  view  of  this  ancient,  dark, 
and  reverend  pile,  once  the  resi- 
dence of  monks,  may  not  have 
contributed  to  impress  on  the  mind 
of  young  Johnson  a  superstitious 
veneration  for  the  splendour  of  a 
churt:h  establishment,  and  have 
even  given  him  that  melancholy 
bias,  which  he  discovered  toward 
many  of  the  ceremonies  and  doc- 
trines of  the  church  of  Rome. 
Indeed  I  know  of  nothing  so  cal- 
culated to  inspire  a  secret  suspi- 
cion of  the  presence  of  the  depart- 
ed, as  to  walk  through  the  long, 
still,  and  echoing  aisles  of  a  Goth- 
ick  cathedral,  lined  on  each  side 
with  the  tombs,  and  ornamented 
with  the  figures  of  men  who  died 
centuries  ago  ;  for  while  you  are 
trembling  at  the  sound  of  your 


own  steps  in  these  lofty  and  silent 
cloisters,  and  seem  to  shrink  into 
littleness  vuider  the  venerable 
grandeur  of  the  roofs,you  can  hard- 
ly bring  yourself  to  believe  that 
such  a  vast  and  solemn  structure 
is  uninhabited  ;  and  after  having 
heard  the  great  gate  close  upon 
your  coming  out,  you  cannot  avoid 
the  impression,  that  you  are  leav- 
ing these  awful  retreats  to  some 
invisible  and  ghostly  tenants. 

This  pile  was  founded  in  the 
year  657.  It  suffered  much  in 
the  revolution,  and  since  the  resto- 
ration they  have  been  continually 
repairing  it.  The  dean  and  chap- 
ter are  now  replacing  some  of  the 
old  windows  by  some  painted  glassf 
which  they  have  received  from 
some  old  church  at  Liege.  It  is 
said  to  be  wc^.iderfully  fine,  but  as 
I  am  no  connoisseur  in  these 
things,  I  can  only  say  that  the 
colours  are  wonderfully  brilliant. 
The  window  at  the  east  end  is 
modem. 

Dr.  Johnson,  and  David  Gar- 
rick,  and  Gilbert  Walmsley  have 
monuments  in  this  cathedral  very 
near  to  one  another.  You  remem- 
ber the  Latin  epitaph  which  John- 
son wrote  for  his  father's  tomb- 
stone, who  was  buried  here  ;  I 
know  you  will  hardly  forgive  the 
dean  and  chapter,  when  I  tell  you, 
that  in  paving  the  church,  they 
have  lately  removed  it,  as  well  as 
another,  which  Dr.  J.  caused  to 
be  placed  over  the  grave  of  a 
young  woman,  who  was  violently 
in  love  with  his  father.  The  in- 
scription which  Dr.  J.  wrote,  was 
nothing  more  than  this,  ^  Here 
lies  n  ,  I,  a  sti-anger,  ob.  &c." 
This  anecdote  I  had  from  the  ver- 
ger, a  tattling  old  man,  who  show- 
ed us  the  cathedral.  lie  professed 
to  have  been  "  very  intimate" 
(these  were  his  words)  with  Dr.  J. 
His  name  is  riirncai^. 


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THOUGHTS   ON   TACITUS. 


405 


For  the^  Atithology. 

THOUGHTS    ON  TACITUS. 

N'am  cunctas  nationet  ct  urhe*  popultu,  out  prhnoresy  out  singuli  regunt  ;  delecta  at 
his  et  consociata  reipubUc4g  formay  laudari  facili'us  quatn  evcnire  ;  vel  si  evenit,  haud 
diutitrna  esse  potest.  Tac.  Ann.  L.  4.  33. 

If  vre  consider  the  natui-e  of  civil  government,  we  shall  find  that  in  all  nations 
the  supreme  authority  is  vested  in  the  people,  or  the  nobles,  or  a  single  ruler.  A 
constitution,  compounded  of  these  three  simple  forms,  may  in  theory  be  beautiful, 
but  can  never  exist  in  fact  ;  or,  if  it  should,  it  will  be  but  of  short  duration. 

Murphy's  Traki. 


IN  these  words  Tachus  has  ex- 
pressed his  celebrated  opinions  on 
the  best  forro  of  government  for  a 
fitp.le^     He  acknowledges   the  ex- 
cellence of  a  system,  in  w^hich  the 
three  great  simple  modes  of  polity 
should  be  preserved  by  a  judicious 
.selection  apd   harmonious  combi- 
natipn  of  their  i:onstituent  advan- 
tages.    Such  a  system  he  decided- 
ly commends,  but  apparently  re- 
grets its  probable  impracticability, 
and  declares  that,  if  it  were  practi- 
cable,   it    could    not    be    lasting. 
These  are  the  sentiments  of  a  pro^ 
ibund  historian   on   a    sybject   of 
real   difficulty    and  extensive  im- 
portance.    They  may  well  occupy 
our  thoughts  for  a  few  moments, 
for  the  subject  is  full  of  "  high 
matter"  ;   and,  as  connected  with 
the  mighty  revolutions  of  the  old 
world  in  the  present  age,  or  with 
the  established  constitutions  of  our 
own  country,  it  may  originate  sen- 
.timents  of  regret  or  exultations  of 
gratitude.     In  the   present  specu- 
lation, however,  I  shall  not   enter 
lrit9  a  nice  investigation  of  the  ex- 
cellence of  the  system  recommen- 
ded   by  the  hii^torian  ;  but  I  proi- 
pose,  as  a  subject  of  literary  dis- 
cussion, to    reconcile  the   implied 
dissent  of  Tacitus  from  the  opin- 
ions   of     Polybius,    fortified     by 
jyiachiavel,  on    the   subject  of  the 
Spurt.: n   constitution    founded   hy 
J>^*cui  jj;us. * 


When  Tacitus  says,  that  a  form 
of  government,  composed  of  mon- 
archy, aiistocracy,  and  democracy, 
is  more  easily  to  be  praised  than 
anticipated,  he  very  probably  had 
reference  to  the  writings  of  states- 
men and  philosophers,  by  whom 
this  scheme  had  been  discussed  and 
commended.  He  also  plainly  in- 
timates, that  he  did  not  think  that 
the  combination  of  the  original 
principles  had,  m  any  government, 
been  accurately  ascertained  and 
suitably  established.  A  man,  like 
Tacitus,  of  vigorous  understand- 
ing and  practical  views,  would  not 
easily  be  reconciled  to  a  visicMiarjr 
excellence  of  policy,  nor  would  he 
be  disposed  to  praise  a  system, 
which,  though  in  theory  it  might 
partake  of  the  simple  schemes  of 
political  economy,  violated  in  its 
operation  all  the  feelings,  habits, 
and  doctrines  of  human  nature  ( 
still  less  would  such  a  statesman 
extol  any  establisliment,  which 
found  the  means  of  its  preserva- 
tions, in  the  forgetfulness  or  des- 
truction of  whatever  renders  life 
pleasant  and  comfortable  to  the 
great  majority  of  the  common- 
wealth. 

That  Tacitus  was  a  man  of  these 
practical  notions  and  principles  of 
expediency,  is  easily  discovered  by 
a  perusal  of  his  political  and  moral 
maxims  and  reflections.  They 
have  no  fancy  or  frenzy.     He  very 


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406 


THOUGHTS  ON  TACITUS* 


seldom  indulges  in  speculation, 
and  he  never  relaxes  into  £Edsencss 
of  conclusion  from  the  violence  of 
passion  or  the  obstinacy  of  preju- 
dice. Human  nature  he  studied 
in  all  its  windings  and  aberrations. 
He  traced  the  contortions  of  hy- 
pocrisy in  the  gloomy  mind  of  Ti- 
berius ;  he  examined  the  gapish 
idiocy  of  the  drowsy  Claudius, 
^ind  cUsplayed  the  feeble  counsels 
and  the  fluctuating  conduct  of  the 
%ged  Galba.  For  this  deep  knowl- 
edge of  the  human  mind,  and  the 
necessary  practical  results,  he  was 
^ot  more  indebted  to  the  age, 
which  furnished  such  materials  of 
serious  reflection,  than  to  his  edu- 
cation and  political  advantages. 
He  studied  law  and  eloquence  un- 
der Aper  and  Secundus,  celeberri^ 
ma  turn  ingcTua  fori  ;  he  married 
the  daughter  of  Agricola,  and  by 
connexion,  as  well  as  sympathy, 
being  attached  to  his  father-in-law, 
he  profited  from  the  plans,  the 
counsels,  and  directions  of  the  il- 
lustrious conqueror  of  Britain.  By 
his  political  career  he  was  partly 
fitted  for  an  historian  aojd  statesman, 
as  besides  what  he  himscjf  de- 
clares, dignitatem  nostram  a  Vesfia" 
fiano  inchoatam^  a  Tito  fiuctam^  a 
jDomitiano  iongi^s  firovectam^  he 
also  enjoyed  the  consulate  under 
Nerva,  and  was  honoured  with  the 
confidence  of  Trajan,  ojitimu^  ^ 
fdicisaimu8  PririccpH, 

Among  the  ancient  historians 
and  plulosophers,  whose  opinions 
pn  the  mixture  of  the  three  sim- 
ple forms  of  government  into  one 
harmonious  system  have  reached 
us,  Polybius  is  highly  distinguish- 
ed. Erom  a  fragment  of  his  6th 
]i>ook,  as  quoted  by  Swift,  in  "  The 
contests  and  dissensions  between 
jLhe  nobles  and  commons  in  Athens 
and  Rome,"  his  sentiments  may  be 
collected.  «  Polybius  tells  us,  the 
best   government   is  that,  which 


consists  of  three  forms,  regjioy  ofi» 
timatiumj  and  fiofiuli  imfierio.  Such 
was  that  of  Sparta  in  its  primitive 
institution  by  Lycurgus  ;  who,  ob- 
serving the  corruptions  aoid  depra* 
vatj^s  to  which  every  of  these 
was  subject,  compounded  his 
scheme  out  of  all  ;  so  that  it  was 
made  up  of  rrgesj  senior e9y  etfiop- 
tUuM.  Such  also  was  the  state  of 
Rome  under  its  consuls,  and  the 
author  tells  us,  that  the  Romans 
fell  upon  this  model  by  chance,  but 
the  Spartans  by  thought  and  dc^ 
sign." 

In  the  political  opinion,  without 
the  exemplification  of  its  truth  in 
the  republick  of  Sparta,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  Tacitus  concurred.  He 
has  given  no  instance  of  any  go?- 
emment,  in  which  he  thought  the 
original  principles  had  been  com- 
bined, so  as  to  conduce  to  the  gen- 
eral welfare  of  the  community ; 
but  on  the  contrary  intimates,  that 
no  such  example  can  be  furnished. 
Xo  evidence  remains,  that  he  had 
studied  the  history  of  Polybius;  but 
there  can  be  little  doubt  that  he 
had  diligently  read  the  verj'  excel- 
lent work  of  a  brother  historian  on 
the  affairs  of  Rome,  who,  as  ^ 
man,had  been  the  intimate  friend  of 
ScipioAfricanus;  and,  as  an  author, 
had  been  praised  by  Li\7  and  Ci- 
cero. As  therefore  Polybius 
praises  the  Spartan  economy,  as 
an  example  o^  his  general  specu,- 
lation ;  and  as  Tacitus  denies  that 
any  government  has  existed,  in 
which  tf^  onej  the  /eWj  and  the 
many  ha;/e  been  harmonized,  I 
can  no  .otherwise  reconcile  the  ifif; 
fcrence,  than  by  the  supposition, 
that  Polybius  had  reference  sim- 
ply to  the  frame  of  the  common^ 
wealth,  as  built  by  Lycurgus,  and 
that  Tacitus  had  either  some  no- 
bler establishment  in  his  mind,  or 
that,  like  a  wise  statesman,  he  dis- 
liked the  effect  of  tlie  Lacedaemon- 


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mOVCilTt  OK  TACITUS* 


407 


kn  tnodel  6h  £he  habits,  inter- 
course,  and  general  relations  of 
the  people. 

From  the  previous  character  of 
Tacitus,  as  a  practical  politician,  it 
is  evident  he  must  have  censured, 
rather  than  applauded  the  singular 
systent  of  the  Spartan   legislator. 
He  could  not  approve  of  a  political 
plan,  which  made  a  whole    com- 
munity barbarous,  ignorant,  mis" 
erable,  and  proud  ;   and  forced  the 
citizens    to    exist     without     the 
elegant  refinements   or  even  the 
comfortable    accommodations    of 
society.     In  Sparta  the  institutions 
and  laws  were,  like  those  in  Crete, 
most  severe,  and  are  thus  charac- 
terised by  Matemus  in  the  Dial, 
de   Orat.  Quarum  crvUatum  #rur- 
rUuma  duc^Hna  et  sevrrisaima  leges 
iraduntur.    In  none  of  the  writings 
of  Tacitus  does  he  express  any 
opinion  of  the  policy  of  Lycurg^s, 
except  what  may  be  gathered  from 
the  following  passage  in  Ann.  ^. 
26.      Hn  firimo    (leges)   rudibus 
hondnum  ardmisy    simpUces  erant* 
Maximiquefama  celebravit  Creteri' 
«mm,  quas  J^nos ;    Spartanorum 
quas  Lycurgus  ;  ac  mox  Athenien- 
sihua  quaasitiores  jam  et  plures  So* 
Um  prescripnt.      "  Law  in  its  ori- 
gin was  like  the  manners  of  the 
age,   plain  and  simple.      Of  the 
several  political  constitutiontduiown 
in  the  world,  that  of  Crete  estab- 
lished by  Minos,  that  of  Sparta  by 
Lycurgus,  and  that  of  Athens  by 
Solon,  have  been  chiefly  celebra- 
ted. .  In  the  latter,  however,  we 
see  simplicity  giving  way  to  com- 
plication and  refinement."     From 
this  passage  it  cannot  be  inferred, 
that  Tacitus  was  particularly   a- 
verse  or  attached  to  the  .constitu- 
tion of  either  legislator,  though 
perhaps  a  nice  reader  of  Latift 
inif^ht  receive  from  the  original 
an  impression  more  unfavourable 
to  the  Spartan  establishment,  than 


is  given  by  the  Weak  and  dilated 
translation  of  Murphy. 

It  is  undeniably  true,  that  Lycur# 
gus  mixed  the  three  simple  forms 
into  one  establishment.  It  was 
not  indeed  perfect.  The  preser- 
vation of  the  balance  of  power  re- 
ceived no  adequate  provision.  The 
senate  was  too  powerful ;  the  kings 
and  the  Ephori  were  too  weak  a-« 
lone,  and  the  legislator  therefore 
contrived,  by  the  solemnities  of  ref»  ' 
ligion  and  the  obligation  of  month*' 
ly  oaths,  to  connect  the  kings  and 
the  ephori  in  alliance;  for  the  former 
swore  to  reverence  and  observe  tlie 
constitution  and  laws  of  Sparta,  and 
the  latter^  in  their  own  name  and  as 
representatives  of  the  people,  swor^ 
to  obey  the  kings,  as  rulers,  judges, 
and  generals,  and*  to  preserve  in 
hereditary  splendour  the  honours 
and  glory  of  the  descendants  of 
Hercules.  By  these  means,  but 
above  all  by  the  civil  and  munici- 
pal regulations  relative  to  stran- 
gers, marriage,  commerce,  agri- 
culture,  slaves,  &c.  Sec.  Lycurgus 
restrained  his  community  in  tran- 
quillity, gained  renown  for  himself 
and  preserved  the  hereditary  hon- 
ours of  the  illustrious  race  of  Her- 
cules for  eight  hundred  years. 
But  the  precincts  of  Sparta  never 
inclosed  the  habitatioa  of  happi- 
ness. Every  thing  was  forced,bar- 
baix>us,  and  unnatural.  Property 
was  violated  under  the  connivance 
of  law,  and  adultery  was  sanction- 
ed as  the  perfection  of  marriage. 
The  slaves  were  forced  to  intoxi- 
cation for  an  example  to  the 
young  Spartans,  and  their  murder 
was  sufi'cred  for  the  incitement  of 
courage  and  the  acquisition  of  mil- 
itary skill.  Study  the  nature  of 
the  Spartan  ordinances,  read  the 
history  of  Lycurgus  in  Plutarch* 
and  you  will  be  astonished  at  the 
adoption  and  continuance  of  a  sys- 
tcm^wluch  opposed  all  tlie  feelings 


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40S 


THOUGHTS   ON  TACITUS. 


of  our  common  nature,  and  swept 
away  in  its  terrible  progress  all  the 
pardonable  prejudices,  the  amiable 
sentiments,  and  the  honourable 
principles  of  civil  life,  merely  to 
snake  g^iants  of  the  men  and  Ama- 
xons  of  the  women... .who* should 
consider  war,  as  the  definite  object 
of  society,  and  peace,  as  the  im* 
proveable  prelude  of  war. 

As  Polybius  among  the  ancients, 
so  Machiavel  among  the  moderns, 
has  considered  the  Spartan  con- 
stitution as  a  happy  combination  of 
Tnonarchy,  aristocracy,  and  demo- 
cracy. In  C.  2,  B.  2,  of  his  dis* 
courses  on  the  first  decade  of  Livy, 
this  illustrious  Italian,  after  observ- 
ing that  prudent  legislators  have 
endeavoured  in  their  political  sys- 
tems to  unite  the  three  simple  prin- 
ciples, and  consequently  to  avoid 
the  defects  of  each,  proceeds  to  re- 
mark, tra  quelli  che  hamw  firr  mni& 
costituzioni  meritato  fiiu  laudc  ^  U* 
curgOy  il  quale  ordino  in  modo  le  9ue 
leggi  in  S/iarta^  che  dando  le  parte 
Bue  ai  re,  agli  ottimati^  e  alpof^oU^ 
Jece  uno  sfatOj  che  duro  piu  che  OttO" 
cento  anniy  con  tumma  laude  9ua^  e 
quiete  di  quella  citta.  Here  the 
immortal  founder  of  modem  poli<» 
licks  expressly  recognises  the  di- 
vision of  powers  in  the  system  of 
Lycurgus,  which  had  been  before 
extolled  by  Polybius  ;  but  it  may 
be  observed,  that  his  praise  is  con- 
fined to  the  high  renown,  which  the 
legislator  acquired,  to  the  duration 
of  the  scheme,  and  the  tranquillity 
of  Sparta.  He  does  not  praise  the 
civil  liberty  of  the  citizens,  for  it 
did  not  exist ;  he  does  not  honour 
the  international  policy,  for  it  was 
full  of  intrigue,  ambition,  and  war. 
A  civil  community  ought  to  have 
s  social  relation  to  other  states.  It 
ought  to  delight  in  the  interchange 
of  such  kind  oflices  as  its  situation 
'win  allow,  such  as  mediation  in 
ivar,  commercial  intercourse,  and 


every  friendly  political  arrange* 
ment.  It  ought,  above  ail,  never  to 
thwart  the  progress  of  internal  ci- 
vility ;  never  to  stop  the  incremse 
of  social  i-elations  and  institutions ; 
and  never  to  prohibit  the  introduc- 
tion and  difi'usion  of  the  blessings 
of  peace,  commerce,  lettersy  and 
arts.  But  in  Sparta  all  intercourse 
with  strangers  and  aU  foreign  tra- 
vel were  forludden  ;  there  was  no 
trade,  and  no  coin,  bqt  ponderous 
pieces  of  iron  ;  agi'iculture  was 
considered  wi  ignominious  employ- 
ment, and  was  expressly  confined  to 
the  slaves ;  the  mecbanick  insUxu- 
tions  were  despised  ;  literature  was 
unknown  to  these  ^^  muscles^  and 
unbookish'*  barbarians  ;  their  sole 
delight  was  in  arms,  for  war  was 
the  study  of  the  men,  and  warlike 
exercises  the  play  games  of  tlie 
children.  A  state,  thus  insulated 
from  the  world,  except  by  the  con- 
tinual disturbances  which  it  excited 
in  other  communities,  and  bjr  tlie 
ravage  of  its  aims,  which  it  terri- 
bly diffused,  niigl^  well  subsist  for 
eight  hundred  years;  for  £bn^gn 
enemies  could  make  no  impression 
on  the  city  from  without,  and  luxury 
and  wealth  could  spread  no  refine- 
ments within.  Sparta  therefore  ex- 
isted in  civilized  barbarism  among 
the  Grecian  States,  not  much  supe* 
riour  to  the  institutions  of  the  Be- 
doweens  in  the  African  deserts  at  the 
present  day  ;  these  marauders  ap- 
pear on  the  horizontal  sands  ;  tbef 
soon  cry  havock,  and  spread  death 
and  desolation  in  every  village  « 
and  when  fury  is  satisfied,  they  sul* 
lenly  retire  with  their  spoil  to  the 
depth  of  solitude,  meditating  new 
pillage,  and  anticipatbig  new  enc^ 
mies  to  conquer. 

In  giving  this  relation  of  the 
Spartan  Commonv.ealth,  I  luve 
been  guided  by  no  prejudice.  No 
writer  will  deny  to  the  passive  pu* 
pils  of  Lycurgus  the  rirtucs  oC 


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401 


|MitietH:6,  fortitude,  hetoisfn,  mag- 
nanimity>  and  ethers  of  a  similar 
Mature.  But  all  these  flourish,  like 
palm  treeS)  in  a  saTage  cominuni^ 
ty,  and  when  unaccompanied  by 
those  qualities  or  virtues,  ^hich 
eitist  in  a  state  of  refinement,  arc 
decisive  evidences  of  a  common- 
wealth barbarous,  warlike>and  mis* 
Arable. 

As,  therefore,  Polybius  and  Ma- 
thkvel  have  considered  the  consti- 
tution of  Sparta,  as  a  testimonial  of 
t7!e  actual  union  of  the  advantages 
df  th€~  simple  forms  of  government 
Into  one  systeni,  and  as  Tacitus 
virtually  differs  from  this  opinion, 
by  insiftHadng^  that  such  an  union 
had  lietter  existed,  I  cannot  other* 
tvise  reconcile  the^e  great  authori- 
t!es»  but  by  sup|k>ding  that  the  for** 
ifaer  had  fefcrence  principally  to 
the  constitution  itself,  and  that  the 
iktter  deduced  Its  nature  from  the 
finisery  of  the  pe<^ple%  and  cBsregard* 
cd  the  mefe  form  of  the  institution. 
-B<Mh  were  right  in  their  several 
opuiions,  and  the  conclusion  must 
Be,  that  the  system  of  Lycurgus^ 
fortified  by  the  code  of  civil  laws 
and  municipal  regulations,  was  re' 


ally  an  example  of  the  cbtn^lnatioit 
of  the  original  forms  of  govern* 
mcnt,  that  it  lasted  long  and  insur* 
ed  tranquillity,  but  that  it  was  not 
formed  to  advance  the  comforts,the 
()leasures,  and  the  refinements  of  so-^ 
ciety,and  that  therefore  it  did  not  de- 
serve the  commendation  of  Tacitus. 
This  hypothesis  may  be  praisecl 
as  more  ingenious,  than  exact, 
and  the  discussion  may  be  con^ 
sidered,  as  more  pleasant,  than 
important.  But  I  have  never  seen 
any  notice  ofthc  difference  between 
the  historians  I  have  mentioned, 
aiid  therefore  if  my  conjectures  arc 
false,  they  may  easily  be  pardoned. 
With  regard  to  the  importance  of* 
tlie  subject,  different  readers  may 
form  different  opinions,  but  I  am 
disposed  to  believe  that  it  is  always 
a  matter  of  much  concern  to  re- 
concile the  jarring  sentiments  of 
great  mbds  on  interesting  topicksr 
for  it  is  surely  unpleasant  to  observe 
the  mighty  guides  of  the  world  op-» 
posed  to  each  other,  because  their 
dissension  enfeebles  their  power, 
while  their  union  gives  energy  to 
truth  and  authority  to  reason. 

QUINTILIAN. 


BfOGRAPMY. 

LIFE  OF  RICHAUD  BENTLfiVr  D.  D. 

Xat0  BfgiuM  Frtfeuor  of  Divinity,  and  Mcuter  of  Trinity  College,  Camhrid^e,  £ng. 
CContlnued  froU  p«ge  348.3 

rLATOii  At  LegW.  IV. 


IN  the  following  year  a  pam- 
phlet appeared,  intituled,  <<  Qua* 
ietnt  EfU9tol^\  Prima  et  tecundai 
«(f  Rkhardum  JBentlerum  ;  Tertia 
4td  iKiuftn$nmum  Ezekielum  Sfian- 
£temiumj  quarta  dd  Lud,  Frid. 
Bonetum**  The  writer  of  these 
letters  was  Ker,  who  had  not  long 
before  published  «  Selectai-um  de 
Ainffua  Latind  Observationem^  Li* 
kri  duo'*    This  performance  and 

Vol.  3.     No.  8.         3D 


its  author  Bentley  had  slighted> 
or  treated  contemptuously.  Ker> 
in  return, 

<<  Cries  havock,  and  lets  slip  the  dogt^ 
of  war!" 

and  while  his  resentment  was 
warm  published  this  gnatemart/ 
of  Efiiatlee, 

The  first  of  these,  Which  are 
addressed  to  Bentfey,  contains  ob- ' 


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^to 


LIFE  OF  BENTLKT. 


jections  to  the  Ladnit7  of  some 
|)a8sage8  in  his  dedication  and 
preface  to  Horace.  The  porport 
of  the  second  is  similar,  and  exhi- 
bits remarks  on  theDr/s  treatment 
of  himself  and  of  former  cridcks. 
In  these  compositions  there  is 
some  just  criticism,  but  it  is  ming- 
Ted  With  too  much  ill-nature,  and 
the  author's  resentment  is  too  ap- 
parent. The  Latinity  is,  perhaps§, 
correct,  coldly  correct :  but  the 
fetters  merit  no  commendation  for 
SprightlinesS  of  wit,  or  elegance  of 
language. 

*  Bentley,  in  all  proftabilfty,  paid 
little  regard  td  the^e  publications, 
or  to  their  authors.  Whatever 
might  he  his  private  sentiments, 
he  felt  the  dignity  of  his  charac- 
tfer,anrfthe  strength  of  his  abilities 
tbo  forcibly,  to  think  an  answer  or 
a  defence  necessary. 

These  attacks  did  not  seeili  to 
influence  hiis  literary  pursuits,  or 
damp  the  ardour  of  his  genius. 
In  the  course  of  this  year  he  pub- 
lished a  new  edition  of  his  emen- 
dltiona  on  Menander  and  Phile- 
Aon^  without  altering  the  name  of 
P/Uleteietherua  LtfiaiefiJsii.  He  o- 
mfttcd  Burman^s  preface,  and  ad- 
ded to  these  remarks,  his  Letter 
to  Dr.  Mill,  which  had  been^  pub- 
lished in  the  year  1691,  at  the  end 
of  the  Chronography  of  Malela.* 


§  We  say  perhaps,  for  we  have  not 
readUicm  with  sufficient  attention  to 
enable  us  to  speak  decisively. 
.  •  In  thisnew  edition  of  his  Ejfistoia 
Critica,  wliich  was  his  first  and,  per- 
haps his  most  learned  work,  the  wri- 
ter pf  this  life  ohserves,  that  he  did 
not  correct  the  few  trifling  iraifOf«tfitiU 
which  had  escape4  him,  in  the  orig-inal 
c^ditien.  Ani^npthise  may  be  number- 
ed :  P.  47.  hn  for  iu9.  P.  48,  in  the 
reference  to  Atheneus,  Lib.  XIV.  for 
Lib.  X.  F.  52.  UndecHna  IwUfabuia, 
should  he  ^dednuti  as  he  has  only  men- 
tioned ninein  his  disquisitions  on  lo,  tlie 
Qiian.  P.  80,  Ewtfirxi^  is  called  Com- 
giarativum     instead    of  Super lativum^ 


Of  both  these  admirable  piecef 
of  criticism  we  have  already  spok-^ 
en.  We  cannot,  however,  quit 
them,  wilhoiit  expressing  some 
regret,  that  the  corrections  of  He- 
sychius,  which  he  mentions  in 
this  Letter  to  Dr.  Mill,  were  never 
written  and  published.  What 
additional  dignity  would  tl;c  splen- 
did edition  of  this  valuable  Lexicon 
have  acquired,  when  it  nppearecf 
some  years  ago,  at  Lc\  clcn,  under 
the  auspice^  of  Alberti  and  Ruhn^ 
kehius,  if  the  corrections  of  Ben;' 
ley  had  been  added  to  the  remarks 
of  so  many  learned  annotators. 
His  vigorous  mind  was  peculiarly 
adapted  to  such  a  task,  both  on  ac- 
count of  hh  penetration  and  his 
boldness.  He  knew  the  depth  of 
his  own  erudition,  and  seldom  paid 
any  regard  to  the  eaviU  of  inferiour 
cTitrcks. 

About  this  time  appeared  a 
book,  intituled  "  A  Discourse  of 
Freethinking,  occasioned  by  the 
Rise  and  Growth  of  a  Sect,  called 
Free-Thuikers.**  The  dangerous 
tendency  of  this  wovk,  which  was 
generally  read,  determined  Bent- 
ley  to  answer  It  publickly,  under 
Hi^  assumed  name  of  Phild*ii* 
therus  Lipsiensis.  He  addressed 
his  reply  to  Dr.  Hare,  ahhough 
Collins,  the  author  of  the  book, 
had  been  his  pupil.  The  utk 
was,  <'  Remarks  upon  a  late  Dis^ 
course  of  Free-thinking  ;  in  a  letter 
to  F.  H.,  D.  D.  by  Phlleleutherus 
Lipsieiwis.**"  '    • 

In  the  address  he  compliments 
Hare  ii^n   the  care  and' secrecy 

Sedfupc  tfolafirttutic.  In.thr  aMlioBa^ 
at  the  end  of  tlus  £pistle«  tiie  referea- 
ces  arc  very  improperly  ^ade  lotbe 
pages  of  the  old^  instead  of  tlie  new 
edition.  The\-  should  have  been  Ibeor- 
porated  into  the  text,  or  at  leatft  Ae  re- 
ferences should  have  been  altered.  R 
is  a  strange  instance  of  carelessness^, 
and  especially,  as  in  the  title  fkt  ttfi* 
Editio  altera  emtndatur* 


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XlFE  OF   BENTLET. 


Ail 


y/nth  which  he  conveyed  his  anno- 
tations on  Menander  to  the  press, 
which  encouraged  him  to  send  him 
<hese  remarks  on  Coliins. 

Dr.  Salter*  has  informed  «us, 
that  Bentley  is  .  not  serious,  when 
he  compliments  Hare  for  his  taci- 
turnity and  secrecy  with  respect 
to  the  emendations  of  Menander. 
He  has  »ot,  however,  declared  his 
authority  for  such  an  assertion, 
and  if  it  was  conjecture,  there 
'Seemsfio  foundation  -upon  which 
to  buiW  such  a  suspicion.  -It  docs 
not  appear,  that  the  delay  of  the 
papers  was  occasioned  by  any  mis- 
take of  Hare,  or  that  he  ever  be- 
trayed the  secret.  At  this  time, 
though  they  afterwards  qnarrelled> 
he  almost  idolized  the  Master  of 
Tripity-College  ;  Sciopms  scarce^ 
4y  venerated  ScaHger  in  a  higher 
degree.  Why  •then  should  Bent- 
ley,  pay  him  any  ironical  compfi- 
nients  ? 

These  Remarks  deserve  the 
highest  commendation,  whether 
we  consider  the  design  or  the  exe- 
cution. Those  powers  of  ratioci- 
nation, that  lively  wit,  that  quick- 
ness of  imagination,  and  that  penq- 
tsating  acilteness,  which  shone  so 
conspiciiottsly  -in  the  dissertation 
on  Phalaiis,  were  now  again  dis- 
played. Ignovance  and  perversion 
were  never  morcrthoroughly  ex- 
posed. 

These  Hemarks,  and  the  intro- 
ductpry  letter,  afforded  Dr.  Hare 
an  opportunity  of  publickly  demon* 
strating  hii  rega^pd  'for  Bentley  ; 
and  in  the  course  of  the  year  he  ad- 
dressed ^  fmmplilet  tp  htm,  intitu- 
led ♦*  The  Clergyman's  Thanks 
to  Phileleutherud  Lipsiepsis,  (cp." 
in  which  he  urged  the  author  to 
continue  and  complete  his  re- 
inark^ 

.  *  In  bis  AdditMmal  notes  to  ,tlie  new 
^edition  of  Bentlev's    Dissertation  on 

4'li;^aris,  p.  448. 


Before  the  expiration  of  the 
year,  therefore,  appeared  the  se- 
cond part  of  this  cri^que  on  Col- 
lins, with  another  letter  to  his 
friend  H.  H.,  in  which  he  assures 
him,  that  his  request  was  his  only 
inducement  to  pursue  th.c  subject 
as  he  had  many  weighty  reason^ 
which  urged  him  to  remain  silent 
This  pubfication  did  not  complete 
his  original  design,  but  contains  a 
critical  examination  of  the  trans- 
lations which  he  gives  of  his 
quotations  from  the  ancientsw-if- 
But  Collins  did  not  require  so 
acute  an  examiner  to  refute  his 
erroneous  assertions.  Bentley 
displays  his  usual  penetration,  hut 
the  subject  sinks  beneath  him  : 
«  The  former  part  of  the  book 
(he  says  in  his  introductory  letter) 
contained  matters  of  consequence, 
and  gave  9ome  play  to  the  answer- 
er ;  but  the  latter  is  a  dull  heap 
of  dilations,  not  worked,  nor  ce- 
mented together,  mere  sand  with- 
out l^me  ;  and  who  would  meddle 
with  such  dry,  mouldering  sluS> 
that  with  the  best  handfing  can 
never  take  a  polish  ?  To  produce 
a  good  reply,  the  first  writer  must 
conttibute  something ;  if  he  is 
quite  low  and  flat,  his  antagonist 
cannot  rise  high  ;  if  he  is  barren 
and  jejune,  the  other  cannot  flou- 
llsh  ;  if  he  is  obscure  and  dai'k» 
the  other  can  never  shine." 

Such  Is  the  description  which 
Jkiitley  gives  of  his  situation, 
when  he  wrote  these  remarks. 
Yet  this  second  part  is  equal  to 
the  former,  in  point  .of  cillical  sa- 
gacity ,and^arcastick  ridicule.  Nor 
IS  it  in  ^!^  ,d€|crce  ^inferiour  with 
respect  tp  learning,  as  far  as  Col- 
lins gave  scope  for  a  display  of  his 
wonderful  erudition. 

Thpse  two  parts  were  univcrr 
safly  read  and  admired.  Even  his 
enemies  were  silent.  No  caviller 
dared  to  attack  tliis  admirable  per- 


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^v» 


Ibrni^nce. .  CoUuift  fc^f^itttd  ihis 
reputation  for  learning  and  al^ilir 
ties,  and  his  book,  which  had  been 
held  up  as  a  mod^U  sunk  into  ob- 
scurity. Eight  editions  of  these 
Remarks  have  been  published, 
and  he  began  a  third  part,  at  the 
desire  of  Queen  Caroline,  when 
•he  was  Princess  of  Wales.  Of 
this  only  two  half  sheets  were 
printed,  and  not  much  more  was 
written  ;  for  Bentley  wrote  hi^ 
remarks  sheet  by  sheet,  as  the 
copy  was  wanted  by  the  printer. 
During  his  dispute  with  the  Untr 
versity,  in  1717,  he  gave  up  this 
design  of  finishing  his  observa- 
tions ;  nor  could  he  ever  be  per- 
suaded to  resume  the  subject. 
At  the  same  time  he  declared, 
with  great  indignadon,  that  those 
in  whose  favour  he  wrote,  were  as 
bad  as  those  he  wrote  agsdnst. 

The  few  pages  which  are  pub- 
lished of  this  third  part  CQptain 
remarks  upon  some  passages  from 
Lucan,  which  Collins  had  quoted, 
about  Cato.  It  is  much  to  be  la- 
mented, that  he  never  finished  this 
piece  of  criticism,  for  however 
trifling  was  the  value  of  the  book, 
there  is  such  a  sprightliness,  and 
wit  in  his  manner  of  confuting 
his  antagonist,  that  entertains, 
while  it  conviiKes. 

On  the  fifth  of  November,  1715, 
Dr.  Bentlcy  preached  a  sermon* 
upon  Popery,  before  the  Univer- 
sity. This  deep  discourse  is  re- 
plete with  erudition,  and  was  cal- 
culated for  the  learned  body  before 
whom  it  was  delivered.  It,  how- 
ever, afforded  an  opportunity  of 
beginning  a  new  assault  to  some 
of  his  enemies  ;  who  soon  aft^r 
published  some  remarks  on  th^ 
sermon.     This  was  one  of  the  few 

•  This  sem^oD  wa«  afterwards  pub- 
Kshed,  with  )u8  sixth  edition  of  BoyU*s 
Lecture^,  nt  Cambridge,  1735. 


Mfjc  ,Qr  wn%t^. 


zttiAs  wkich  Bentley  did  not  beir 
in  silence.  When  these  petty 
scribblers  critictsed  his  claatkal 
erudition,  he  felt  conscious  of  hia 
superiority.  This  pamphlet, 
however,  was  too  acurriious  not  t9 
provoke  notice,  ax^l  in  1717  hf 
published  an  anawer,  intituled  s 
^  Reflections  on  the  aci^alouf 
aspersions  cast  on  the  Cievgy  by 
the  Author  of  the  |lemaiiu  on  Pr. 
Bentley 's  Sermon  op  Popery,  fiic.- 

In  the  year  before  thU»  I71(^ 
two  leUers  were  addressed  to  hiqi« 
respecting  an  edition  of  the  Gr^k 
Testament,  for  which  he  had  long 
been  collecting  materials.  The9t 
were  published  with  the  Doctor's 
answers,in  which  the  publick  were 
informed,  that  the  Doctor  did  not 
propose  umg  any  mairascript  kk 
this  edition  which  was  not  a  tho«* 
sand  years  old  ;  am)  at  tb^  same 
time  added,  that  he  h^  twenty  of 
this  age  in  his  library. 

The  following  year  produced  a 
new  antagonist.  Mr.  Johnson,  a 
schoolmaster,  at  Nottingham!  at* 
tacked  with  great  virulence,  and 
considerable  ability,  Dr.  Bentley'i 
edition  of  Horace.f 

This  publication  was  delayed 
by  Johnson's  iiln^sa,  but  however 
out  of  date  it  m^t  appear,  he 
tells  us  in  a  long  preface,  tkat  hf 
was  determiii^d  to  publish  it,  be- 
cause the  authors  of  the  formef 
remarks  on  the  Doctor's  Hocace 
had  not  mentioned  the  ^oft  glar-» 
ing  errors. 

At  the  end  of  the  preface,  hf 
has  ^Uected  Bentley^  egxttUmt^ 
on  tho  pafsagiea  in  wWh  he  has 
mem^ed    himself;     a^d    after 

t  Tbi9  is  the  title  of  bi»  critique, 
^<  Anstaixbus  Anti-Bentleiaims  qua- 
drag^ta  acx  Bentleii  errorcs  super  Q. 
Horatii  Flacci  odanun  Ubro  prime  ipti- 
ioSy  nonnullos,et  erubescendos  :  item 
per  Botas  Universal  in  Latthitate  Japaus. 
fiBdistUaoi  OQna^nta  oftcndens.*         ' 


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M»py  WMfssr^ 


41^ 


^bem-hiatedecUone  QD  ptber  wri- 
ters. AiDQ^  tbc  form^  he  hw 
ioferted  (^v^ra],  vhicb  b«ve  D9 
title  to  a  plgce  in  «ucb  a  coUei^ 
tioD  J  and  mawy  of  the  latter  ane 
as  just,  aa  thf  f  are  sqvare. 

To  follow  thi*  writer  through 
all  his  anii9adyer#k>ns  would  nei- 
ther be  useful  por  ent^rtainbig. 
Like  most  other  comments^tors,  be 
zpp^n  to  be  sometimes  fight,  and 
frequently  wrong,  in  his  eriticisma 
pn  Horace.  Hf  was  a  good  scho- 
Jar,  but  an  a:(ecrable  criUck.  He 
bad  not  taate  eiMD^b  to  discover 
the  value  of  many  of  Bentley's 
conjectural  corrections,  though 
Jiis  extensive  reading  enabled  bim 
tappiptout  several  of  the  great 
critick's  erroi^a- 

In  addition  to  the  emendations 
which  we  have  already  transcribe 
ed,  wc  must  add  one  or  two  more  5 

Horat.  Ars  Poet.  12 1_ 

JSTonoratum  si  forte  reponis  AchilleiDy 
Impiger,  irscundus,  &c. 

Eor  honoratum^  Bentley,  with  a 
criidcal  sagacity  which  had  been 
rarely  equalled,  proposes  to  read 
Jfomfreuntj  which  Hurd  has  adr 
mitted  into  the  text,  in  his  edition, 
as  indeed  he  baa  almost  all  the 
readin|^s  of  the  British  Aristar- 
chm.  "  if  you  insert  the  charac-r 
ter  of  Achilles,  as  it  is  drawn  by 
Hpna^i**  into  your  work,  let  him  be 

•  tap^SCr,  inaindm,  Innrorabtlb,  tcer, 
^9m  ACtIt  dM  oatft,  iiihB  mm  trrocet  armk.^ 

Jhe  son  of  Feleus,  indeed,  was 
dreaded  on  account  of  his  cou- 
rage, but  if  we  consider  hia  &tory, 
we  do  not  find  that  honours  vver^ 
often  showered  down  upon  hira. 
Oi^  tbe  eontraiy,  Agamemmon 
takes  away  his  mistress,  Pf'rwf  x«x- 
A/T^^f,  pr^  as  Horace  stiles  her, 
Briseis  nivco  colore  ;  and  tiio*  he 
had  plundered  so  jnany  cities,  yet 
^d  the  conua(iT:c^cr  in  chief  ahv&ys 


wry  off  <be  riefcest  ^oSl,  «&d 
^oy  the  treasures  whicb  ware 
acquired  by  his  labours  t 

In  Scrm.  H.  Lib,  2,  v,  130, 
Bentley  corrects  the  punctuation 
of  a  passage,  in  wkieh  haaupposes 
that  Horace  refers  to  an  inofited  ' 
epigram  of  Pbilodemus.  *  Above 
forty  years  after,  the  epigraia 
was  published  by  Jleiske,  in  the 
Anthology  of  Ce{>halas,  and  coa- 
firmed  his  conjecture.  Toup 
doubts  whether  Uie  Roman  poet 
conceived  the  meaning  of  the 
epigrammatist ;  be?  bowevr,  givea 
the  lines,  with  our  critick'a  emen- 
dation, which  affords  a  splen* 
did  instance  of  his  acumen,  that 
can  never  be  praiaed  too  highly,  or 
too  frequently  4  But  let  ua  pro- 
ceed. 

Some  of  Johnson's  remarks  on 
the  Latinity  of  Bentley's  notes  are 
just  and  acute.  They  display 
great  knowledge  of  the  language, 
and  insight  into  the  modes  of  ex<« 
pression  adopted  by  the  be^t  Ro- 
man authors.  But  let  it  not  be 
supposed  that  ourcritipk  ia  the  on- 
ly modern^  who  deserves  censure 
on  this  account*  Scioppius  wrote 
a  book  against  the  Latinity  of 
Strada,  and  the  learned  H.  Steph-r 
ens  another  of  uncommon  excels 
lence  on  that  of  the  great  JLipsius, 
MarWand,  in  more  modern  timesi 
is  not  always  equally  correct  in  hij^ 
annotations ;  and  it  would  bo 
found  that  even  the  great  Toup, 
who  is  the  Corypbcu9  of  Greciaii 

t  See  pentJpv's  note  on  the  passage 
Horat.  P.  674.  '  Ed.  Amst,  ^ 

\  The  author  of  the  preiace  totha 
Oxfoni  edition  of  Cephtlas,  in  a  note, 
mentions  this  possnge,  but  docs  rc| 
seem  thoroughly  to  conceive  the  forcp 
of  Beutlev's  correction.  There  is  ai\ 
account  also  of  this  celebrated  passage 
in  Foster  on  Acrenti,  whidi  the  cui'iou^ 
rei^der  may  consult 


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414 


kV  SSSAt   OK  THE  LIBEKAL  ARTI. 


literatorei  in  the  present  age,  if 
his  pFe&ce  to  Longinus  were  ex- 
amined by  a  rigid  grammarian, 
can  sometimesf  as  well  as  cridcks 
of  infcriour  rank,write  inattentive- 
ly, and  adopt 

"  a  f  tyle 
••  So  Latin,  yet  «o  EoflUi  tU  the  whHe.'* 

Why  does  he  use  the  ambiguous 
if  not  unqlassical  phrase  .of  Longu- 
num  non  uno  in  loco  resUiaimusy 
which  may  mean  not  onccy  as  weU 
as  more  than  once  ?  In  another 
place  he  says,  non  sevtei.  Publi- 
ca99e  is  used  by  Pliny,  in  the  sense 
of  fiubliabing  a  book^  but,  we  be- 
lieve, not  by  the  vrriters  of  the 
Augustan  age.  Adeone  often  be- 
gins a  sentence,  but  not  adeo  uty 
which  requires  a  subj.  mood  after 
it.  Toup  is  wrong,  when  he  puts 
an  fndic,  Cicero  says  :  "  Bcjm/i. 
funditus  anvuimusy  adeo  ut  Catq 
adQlescene    nidliuB    connlii         vix 


vivu$  ejftigeret**  Ad  Q.  frat.  et 
alibi.  In  page  4.  Focat  should  be 
vocavitj  as  the  other  verbs  in  the 
sentence  are  in  the  perfect  tense. 
Ut  erat  should  be  ut  ^m^/.— John- 
son censures  BentleyS  al&teratioy 
what  would  he  have  said  to  Toup's 
in  textum*y  and  to  some  other  sHpsy 
which  may  be  discovered  in  this 
pre^e.  Do  not,  however,  let  it 
be  suspected,  that  we  mean  to  de- 
tract from  To«p*s  splendid  abili- 
ties, as  a  cntick.  He  has  few  read- 
ers who  look  -up  to  him  with  high- 
er veneration,  or  who  would  praise 
him  with  more  sincei4ty  ;  but  we 
were  willing  that  his  Herculean 
shoulders  should  bear  some  por- 
tion of  the  load  which  has  be^t 
placed  on  those  of  Bentley. 

.  •  Used  by  Am.  MarcelL^  but  not  la 
the  AugusUinage,  {ov^he  text  of  a  ^©«jK 

71?  be  continued. 


THE  LIBERAL   ARTS. 


^ro.  -2, 


.  For  the 

MR.  Hume  has  asserted,  "  That 
it'b  impossible  for  the  arts  and 
sciences  to  arise,  among  any  peo- 
ple, unless  that  people  enjoy  the 
blessings  of  a  free  government.'* 
This,  with  many  otner  positions 
assumed  as  the  foundation  of  his 
reaisoninf^,  inclines  one  to  believe 
thatjin  his  essays,  the  primary  ob- 
ject was  not  the  discovery  of  con* 
tealed,  or  illustration  of  known 
truths  ;  but  rather  to  exercise  his 
faculties  in  the  construction  ,of 
plausil)le  tjieoiies,  and  in  framing 
ingeoious  arguments  on  contro- 
verted subjects.  An  impaitial  at- 
tention to  the  history  of  the  rise 
and  progress  of  arts  will  convince 
us,  that  they  depended  mnch  more 
Vpon  other  causes  than  poUticnl 
institutions.   They  originally  arose 


Antholo^, 

in  Egypt,  which  was  a  mqnarchy^ 
and  frequently  a  very  despotic  one  ; 
from  thence  they  were  transplanted 
to  the  free  states  of  Greece  ;  from 
thence  to  Rome,  where  they  flour- 
ished in  the  time  of  the  Emperours  ; 
they  were  then  involved  in  the  saxne 
darkness  v^th  every  other  species 
of  h4;iman  learning  and  ingenuityc^ 
and  restored  under  papal  and  des- 
potick  power  in  the  reign  of  Leo  the 
Tenth,  his  immediate  predecessor 
and  successor,  with  the  surroundr 
ihg  contemporary  potentates.  It 
appears,  therefore,  more  consonaftit 
to  reason,  as  well  as  fact,  to  lay 
their  foundation  In  the  wants  of 
mankind,  and  the  perfecting  of  the 
superstructure  to  their  supersti- 
tions, religion,and  ambition.  Ne- 
cessity first  gave  birth  to  ai^hitec* 


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AK  ESSAT   ON  THl^  LIBERAL   ARTI. 


4)5 


turc,  which  the  desire  of  building 
suitable  habitations  for  various  dei- 
ties brought  to  perfection.  Sculp- 
ture arose  from,  and  was  matured 
by  the  universal  prevalence  of  poly- 
theism. Painting  most  probably 
was  principally  indebted  to  the 
same  cause  ;  and  when  they  arose 
again  in  Italy,  they  were  cherished, 
protected  by,  and  it  may  be  said  in- 
corporated with  the  religion  of  the 
times,  which  then  possessed  the 
greatest  influence  over  the  reason 
and  passions,  as  well  as  the  tem- 
poral estate  of  man.  To  describe 
and  illustrate  the  wonderful  events, 
sublime  nature,  and  important  ob- 
jects of  chiisti^  theology,  was  at 
once  the  pride,  the  labour,  and  tlie 
nutnipcnt  of  historical  painting  ; 
and  the  reason  why  its  progress 
was  so  k)ng  retarded  in  England 
may  be  fou^id  in  that  intolerant 
bigotry  which  accompanied  the  re- 
formation. 

It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  other 
causesi  besides  Uie  possession  of  a 
free  government,  arc  requisite  to 
produce  the  arts  among  ui  ;  and 
if  we  depend  on  that  alone,  we  shall 
continue  without  those  sources  of 
intellectual  elegance  and  refine- 
ment, to  which  other  nations  are 
indebted  for  their  brightest  points 
of  superiority.  But  seeing  that 
neither  our  religious  nor  political 
ifistitmions  are  calculated  to  hold 
out  much  inducement,  how  are  we 
to  transplant  them  into  our  soil  ? 
How  shall  they  be  nourished,  and 
be  made  to  produce  scyons  of  na- 
tive growth  ?  That  they  may  grow, 
when  transplanted,  let  the  soil  (as 
was  observed  before)  be  fitted  to 
receive  them  ;  for  what  Hume  ob- 
serves generally,  may  justly  be 
particularly  applied  to  the  imita- 
tive arts  ;  that  they  cannot  make 
much  progress,  or  produce  emi- 
nent men,  except  a  share  of  the 
same  sptiit  and  genius  be  antece- 


dently diffused  through  the  people 
among  whom  they  arise.  Tba 
means,by  which  this  spirit  may  be 
generated  and  diffused,  it  is  worth 
while  to  consider.  The  first  step^ 
is  to  induce  artists  of  eminence,  or 
men  of  genius  promising  to  arrive 
at  eminence,  whether  foreigners  or 
natives,  whenever  they  appear^by 
such  encouragement,  as  will  make 
it  worth  their  while  to  remain  and 
exert  their  talents  in  this  cotmtty : 
and  this  encouragement  must  not 
only  be  of  a  pecuniary  nature,  but 
must  also  consist  in  that  respectful' 
attention,  which  will  give  them  a 
due  degree  of  consequence  in  so- 
ciety ;  and  which,  if  they  possess 
that  elevation  of  mind  which  the 
arta  are  calculated  to  inspire,  aTwl 
which  they  never  fail  to  inspire  in 
men  of  real  genius,  will  be  ahrays 
esteemed  as  the  most  grateful  and 
congenial  reward  of  their  labours. 
It  is  also  equally  essential  to  the 
adequate  compensation  of  real  ge* 
nius,  that  all  unqualified  pretenders 
should  be  universally  discountenan- 
ced ;  for  there  are  quacks  among 
artists  as  well  as  among  physicians, 
and  when  such  persons  are  able 
successfully  to  practice  their  impo- 
sitions, the  aits  themselves  suffer 
a  temporary  disgrace,  and  artists 
of  meiit  are  defrauded  of  their  just 
portion  of  respectability  and  profit. 
Persons^  who  have  laid  out  their 
money  in  what  they  believed  were 
works  of  art  and  exertions  of  ta- 
lent, finding  themsekes  imposed 
upon  by  gaudy  daubings,  or  the  re- 
fuse of  European  auctions,  are  too 
dftcn  disposed  to  doubt  all  they 
ha^'e  heard  of  the  dignity  of  art, 
and  to  withhold,  indiscriminatelvy 
frofn  every  professor,  that  liberali- 
ty  which  they  once  bestowed  in 
vain.  This  renders  it  necessary 
to  be  able  to  discriminate  between 
good  and  bad,  bttween  the  works 
of  a  master  and  the  feeble  imita- 


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41* 


*ltVA. 


ti«i(tt  of  a  tuivice,  between  the  vi- 
gOfr#us  fhMgh  frtquentljr  rude 
tfffona  of  teal  genks)  and  that  in- 
ttpld  snA0<>tlme8S)  tawdry  finery, 
and  lAechanical  dexterity,  which 
too  often  aasumes  its  character. 
To  attain  this  luiowkdge,  h  the 
tfcquifltion  of  taste. 

•^Whst  «hen  i»  taste^  bat  the  faitemal 

poW>tf^ 
Active  and  Hroag^  and  f«cMiiff|ly  aivfe 
To  each  fine  ioftpulio  ?   a   difceraing 

sense 
Of  decent  and  sublime,  ^th  quick  dls« 

gttSt 

From-^ings  deform'^^  or  disarranged^ 

or  fvots 
In  spccioaT 

Or,  to  use  the  Unguage  of  an  ele- 
gaot  prdse  writer,*  ^  Taste  b  the 
power  of  selectine  thtSeei  /"  hence 
says  he,  *<  its  eil^t  is  necessBiily 
csxtended  to  conduct  and  charac*^ 
ter."  And  he  adds  this  beautiful, 
and  strikingly  jvsc  remark,  ^  In  a 
pdished  nation,  half  the  portion  of 
existing  vice  may  be  ascribed  to 
bad  taafeey  to  the  want  of  that  culti*- 

*  Hoare V  inquiry  into  the  cuhivatioiu 
and  present  state  of  the  arts  in  £ng;Iaad. 


vation  of  the  miitd,  which  leiuls.ter 
an  habitual  preference  of  the  ^^/rrr 
to  the  wor^e.  The  inri^ble  sceptrtf 
which  sways  and  fixes  the  morale 
of  a  people,  is  held  by  the  hand  of 
taste." 

This  faculty  is  in  every  person's 
power  to  possess,  in  a  greater  or  less 
degree,  according  to  the  strengtii 
bi  cultivation  of  his  understanding. 
Those,  whose  circumstances  do  not 
absolutely  require  all  their  ^mii 
to  pro\  ide  the  necessaries  of  life, 
have  sufiicient,many  have  abundant 
leisure  for  tliis  purpose  ;  and  thef 
who  neglect  it)  not  only  lose  a  great 
send  enviable  source  of  rational  plea- 
sure, but  assuredly  leave  unper- 
fi>mied  a  duty  to  the  author  of  their 
being,  who  gave  them  faculties  a- 
bove  the  brutes,  Hot  to  "  rust  an- 
used,**  but  to  be  improved  by  all 
opportunities  to  the  utmost  of  their 
power,  that  they  may  be  the  better 
enabled  to  perform  the  variousr 
parts  of  tlieir  character,  as  It  res* 
pects  their  maker,  their  felloDr*  , 
creatures,  and  themselves. 
jfng.  34M.  E,  E. 


SILVA. 

/f€C  Cult  CitHUtUnt  ^lfflS#  tCHMft  OfTOgWt  Otttfflf 

Moil  prhu  exttetefi  iemd  rathne  *a/forutn. 


JVb.  18* 


HoR.  EriST. 


VOLTMRS. 

It  is  very  difficult  to  ascertaia 
the  truth  of  particular  events  in 
history,  or  in  tlie  live»  of  celebra- 
ted men.  The  death  of  Voltaire 
is  an  instance  of  this  i  names  are 
given,  and  circumstances  mention^ 
ed  to  prove  his  having  demanded 
a  confessor  ;  andi  after  liaving  ex- 
pressed his  remorse,  that  he  re- 
canted the  opinions  contained  in 
his  works.  I  was  present  one  ev- 
ening, in  a  small  circle,  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  — — ,  in  Paris.  A- 
iBong  the  company  were  the  mar- 
chioness de  Villette,  tho  adopted 


daughter  of  Voltaire,  whom  he 
used  to  (^  belle  et  bonne,*'  and 
Mr.  Robert,  the  landscape  painter* 
who  was  one  of  his  intimate  ac- 
qpaintance.  The  ouiveraatioB 
turned  upon  Voltaire,  and  many 
anecdotes  were  related.  Some 
person  asked  madamede  Villette, 
whether  the  common  account  of 
Voltaire's  death  was  true.  She 
answered,  that  she  was  with  him 
during  his  last  sickness,  and  in  the 
room  at  the  time,  or  a  few  mo- 
ments before  he  died  ;  that  he  was 
importuned  to  receive  a  confessor, 
and  that  liis  only  answer  was,  **je 


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SILTA. 


4ir 


^>dua  firie  de  me  lednser  tranpdlle*'; 
tmd  that  he  died  without  any  con- 
fession. That  Voltaire  should 
have  wi-itten  against  the  Catholick 
religion,  may  be  palliated  in  con- 
sidering its  excessive  abuses  ;  but 
the  vanity  of  displaying  his  wit 
led  him  much  farther,  than  he 
probably  intended.  His  opinion 
•of  the  necessity  of  a  religion  may 
be  known  from  this  famous  line  : 
<*  8t  Dieu  n*exi8t(dt  flasy  iljaudrait 
-Pinvaiter** 

0S6IAN   AND    HOMER. 

There  a-e  in  Ossian  many  pleas* 
ing  passage's  ;  but  the  perpetual 
Recurrence  of  the  same  images 
and  a  continual  effort  to  effect  the 
sublime,  so  wearies  the  mind  that 
I  can  never  read  but  a  few  pages 
at  a  time.  Ossian  resembles  a 
tremendous  rock,  overliung  with 
waving  woods*  where  you  may 
discover  foaming  cataracts,  gloo- 
my cavern?,  and  dismal  precipices. 
Homer  is  like  a  fertile  country,  in 
iwhich  you  may  at  once  contem- 
plate the  variegated  beauties  of 
'Woods  and  waterfalls  ;  torrents, 
w^hich  rush  with  impetuosity  from 
lofty  mountains,  and  streams, 
which  murmur  through  Arcadian 
vales.  Like  the  shield  of  Achilles, 
the  poems  of  Homer  present  the 
^^holc  world  to  our  view. 

DEFINITION   OF   MAN. 

The  best,  which  has  ever  been 
^ven,  is  anonymous.  ^  Man  is  a 
cooking  animal."  ^  Disquisitioiis 
upon  man  are  among  the  most 
abstruse  that  perplex  metaphysi- 
cians. Much  of  the  difficulty  has 
arisen  from  establishing  a  wrong 
definition.  Men  are  naturally 
mud  ;  different  individuals  approx- 
imate in  different  degrees  towards 
reason.  Many  are  completely 
mad^  none  ai^  perfectly  rational. 
Whottver  distance  sonoe  few,  m6re 

Vol.  HI.  No.  8.     3E 


fortunate  than  the  rest,  may  have 
passed  in  the  attainment  of  ration* 
ality  ;  still  every  day  of  their  life 
will  discover  some  symptoms  of 
their  original  state.  Evtry  mai> 
occasionally  finds  deviations  from 
the  path  of  reason,  in  every  one  of 
his  acquaintance,  which  cannot  be 
accounted  for  on  any  other  posi- 
tion, than  the  one  I  have  assumed, 
that  men  are  naturally  mad. 

FAINTING. 

Many  circumstances,  highiy  af- 
fecting in  narration,  are  glarindy 
improper  for  the  tablet  of  the  pain- 
ter. Of  this  class  is  the  circum- 
stance of  the  Grecian  Daughter 
affording  nutriment  to  her  aged 
parent.  The  story  is  barely  tol- 
erable in  the  hands  of  the  serious 
dramatist ;  but  on  canvas,  the 
figure  of  an  0I4  man,  placed  in  the 
situation  of  an  unconscious  infant, 
is  perfectly  disgusting, 

TASTE. 

To  assign  correct  rules  for  taste 
is  not  easier  than  to  give  a  defini- 
tion- of  beauty.  '  It  has  puEzled 
polite  scholars,  metaphysicians, 
and  artists.  The  standard  in  dif- 
ferent individuals  and  different  na- 
tions is  widely  different.  The^-owr 
of  the  French  varies  as  much  from 
the  gti9to  of  the  Italians,  as  front 
the  toMte  of  the  English,  and  thef 
are  all  equally  i^niote  from  the 
onderBcheidend  vermoogen  of  the 
Dutch.  '  I  am  led  to  think,that  the 
most  accurate  standard  will  be  to 
decide  by  taste  in  eating.  A  trea- 
tise upon  the  progress  of  the  cul- 
inary art  would  be  very  interesting. 
The  advances  of  society  towards 
perfection,  and  its  gradual  decline, 
will  be  found  to  keep  pace  with  the  . 
advancement  and  decay  of  the  art 
of  cooking.  What  a  number  of 
gradations  between  the  roaming 
Tartar,  inebriated  with  fonnentrt 


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418 


SILVA. 


mare's  milk,  and  the  refined  epi- 
curean of  polished  society,  pouring 
libations  of  Burgundy  and  Madeira 
to  beauty  or  patriotism  !  Cooking 
never  came  nearer  to  perfection 
In  th^  Roman  empire,  than  under 
the  cmperour  Augustus  ;  though, 
like  the  Roman  manners,  it  retain- 
ed something  of  the  barbarity  of 
the  republick.  It  gradually  de- 
cayed with  the  decay  of  letters 
and  the  glory  of  the  empire,  till 
the  art  was  buried,  with  all  others, 
in  the  obscurity  of  the  middle  ages. 
It  rose  again  into  notice,  with  the 
revival  of  letters,  under  the  pat- 
ronage of  the  Medici  ;  but  attain- 
ed its  greatest  perfection  in  mod- 
em Europe,  during  the  brilliant 
period  of  Louis  XJV.  It  was  in 
the  reign  of  his  voluptuous  suc- 
cessor, that  scientifick  men  diges- 
ted and  published  its  theory  and 
practice  in  many  inestimable  voir 
umes.  I  could  enlarge  much  on 
this  interesting  topick,  if  I  did  not 
contemplate  publishing  at  some 
future  day  (and  hereby  give  notice 
to  all  subject-seeking  authoi*s,  in 
the  present  exhausted  state  of  lit- 
erature and  science)  a  work  with 
this  title,  An  inquiry  into  the  pro- 
greaa  of  civil  society ^  at  connected 
with  the  culinary  art  ;  and  an  at- 
temfit  to  estadlifihy  ufion  firinciplea 
drawn  from  thia  art^q  true  standard 
qf  taste. 

Mus;cK. 
Modem  musick  resembles  Goth- 
ick  architecture,  whose  parts,  in- 
stead of  captivating,  puzzle  and 
confound  ;  while  the  harmonious 
strains  of  antiquity,  like  the  Gre- 
cian temples,  charm  by  an  union 
of  grandeur  and  simplicity. 

MANSFIELD    AND    CHATHAM. 

The  judgment  of  the  y6ungep 
Lyttleton  is  conspicuous  in  the 
following  brief  mention  of  two  very 


eminent  characters.  «*  The  twar 
principal  orators  of  the  present  agc^ 
(and  one  of  them  perhaps  a  greater 
than  has  been  produced  in  any  age) 
are  the  Earls  of  Mansfield  and 
Chatham.  The  former  is  a  great 
man,  Ciceronian  ;  but  I  should 
think  inferiour  to  Cicero.  The 
latter  is  a  greater  man  ;  Demos- 
thenian,  b%it  superiour  to  Demos- 
thenes. The  first  formed  himself 
on  the  model  of  the  great  Roman 
orator  ;  he  studied,  translated,  re- 
hearsed, and  acted  his  orations. 
The  second  disdained  imitation, 
and  was  himself  a  model  for  elo- 
quence, of  which  no  idea  can  be 
formed,  but  by  those,  who  have 
seen  or  heard  him.  His  words 
have  sometimes  frozen  my  young 
blood  into  stagnation,  and  some- 
times made  it  pace  in  such  a  hurry 
through  my  veins,  that  I  could 
scarce  support  it.  He  embellished 
his  ideas  by  classical  amusements, 
and  occasionally  read  the  sermons 
of  Barrow,  which  he  considered  a 
mine  of  nervous  expressions  ;  but, 
not  content  to  correct  and  instmct 
imagination  by  the  works  of  mor- 
tal men,  he  borrowed  his  fioblest 
images  from  the  language  of  in- 
spiration." 

vaniere's   pr^dilm  rusticum. 

Vanieke  was  one  of  the  mo- 
dern writers  of  Latin  poetry,  and 
a  learned  Jesuit.  His  Prxdium 
JRusticum^  a  poem,  consisting  of 
sixteen  books,  on  Husbandry,  has 
been  too  slightly  appreciated  by- 
Doctor  Warton.  But  Mr.  Mur- 
phy in  the  preface  of  his  translation 
of  the  sixteenth  book,  entitled  The 
Bees,  vindicatesVaniere  with  pow- 
erful cogency. 

His  fourteenth  Book,  which 
contains  the  history  and  manage- 
ment of  Bees,  was  translated  by 
Mr.  M.  many  years  ago,  when 
the   famous    Italian    and  Fretich 


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POETHT. 


419 


'writers  of  Latin  poetry  engaged 
his  attentien  ;  he  sometime  since 
revised  the  translation  for  his 
amusement  ;  and  he  seems  to 
have  published  it  with  no  other 
viesiT)  than  that  of  Inscribing  it,  in 
Kery  .handsome  terms,  to  Miss 
Susanna  Arabella  Thrale. 

•*Naturo  has  not,  perhaps,  pro- 
duced a  more  astonishing  phenor 
rnenon  than  a  kingdom  of  Bees. 
It  is  not  surprising,  tlierefpre,  that 
the  manners,  tlie  genius,  and  all  the 
labours  of  these  wonderful  insects, 
should  have  engaged  the  attention 
pf  philosophers  and  poets,  from 
Pliny  to  Miraldi,  who  first  invent- 
ed glass-hives  ;  and  froni  Virgil  to 
Vaniere,  whose  Prcediurji  Husticum 
might  have  been  immortal  bad  the 
Georgia  never  been  written. 

Mr.  Murphy,  in  his  Translation, 
has  done  ai^ple .justice  to  the  Poet, 
whom  he  has  so  ably  vindicated. 

Frona  an  abundance  of  exccl- 
le])ce,  to  select  is  difficult.  As  a 
specimen,  however,  we  shall  trans- 


cribe the  lines  which  exhibit  these 
aihazing  citizens,  commencing  the 
labours  of  the  morning  :— .  ' 

Ai  when  an  army,  at  the  diwn  of  daf, 
Manhftl  their  bold  brigades  in  dread  array  ; 
The  trumpet'a  clahgOur  cv*ry  breast  alarms. 
And  the  field  glitters  with  their  bumlsh*d  arms. 
So  the  bees,  «imnu>nVl  to  their  daily  toQ, 
Arise,  and  meditate  their  fragrant  spoil ; 
And  ere  they  start,  in  fancy  wing  fheir  ^ay. 
And  in  the  absent  field  devour  their  prey. 
No  rest,  po  pause,  no  stay  :   the  eager  band 
Rush  throQgb  the  gate,  and  issue  on  the  land  ; 
Fly  wild  oi  wing,  a  teeming  meadow  choose. 
Rifle  each  flower,  .and  stp  nectareous  dews. 

For  depradation  while  the  rovers  fly. 
Should  some  sagacious  bee  a  garden  spy. 
Or  a  rich  bed  of  roses  newly  blown. 
Scorning  to  taste  the  luxury  alone, 
She  summons  all -her  frlend't ;  her  friends  ober  ; 
They  throng,  they  press,  they  urge,  they  aeuc 

their  prey  ; 
Rush  to  the  socicet  of  each  blooming  flow*r. 
And  from  that  reservoir  the  sweets  aevour ; 
Tni,  with  the  liquids  from  ^hat  source  dlatUl*d, 
Their  eager  thirst  their  honeybaes  lus  fill*d. 
Untir'd  they  work,  inutiate  atUl  for  more. 
And  viscous  matter  for  their  domes  explore. 
That  treasure  gain*d,  ia  parcels  small  and  nrat 
They  mould  the  spoil,  and  press  it  with  their  feet : 
Then  in  the  bags,  which  nature's  hand  has  twin*d 
Around  their  legs,  a  safe  conveyance  fmA. 
Nor  yet  their  labours  cease  i  their  time  they  pan 
In  Tolling  on  the  leaves,  until  the  maas 
Clings  to  their  bodies,  then  in  wild  career. 
Loaded  with  booty,  to  tiieirxclls  they  steer,   i 

Soon  as  the  spring, its  genial  warmth  renews. 
And  from  the  rising  flow^n  calls  forth  the  dews, 
Th*  ioduttrioos  multitude  oo  ev^ry  plain 
Begfn  the  labours  of  the  vast  campaign, 
£.re  the  parch'd  meadows  moum  their  verdure  flc^* 
And  the  sick  rose-bud  hangs  Its  drooping  head. 


POETRY, 


ORIGINAL. 


CENTLEMEV, 


For  the  An^ology. 


Thefollovjing  tinet  are  not  the  offspring 
oj  fiction  ;  they  toere  toritten  during  the 
melamcholy  feelings  inspired  by  the  e- 
vent  they  record^  Jf  not  inconsistent 
viith  your  design,  the  author  tuoiiid  be 
gratified  by  seeing  them  in  the  Anthol- 
ogy. 


•sweets   to  the   swe;rt  i 

WELL.** 


PARE- 


Ofer  Beauty's  consecrated  um 
A  pensive  stranger  wakes  the  Ijrre  : 
Tho*  spring  the  blooming  year  return^ 
No  wonted  joys  the  vecse  inspire. 

In  vain  the  zepUyr's  fostering"  breatk 
Arrays  in  charms  t'lc  vernal  hour, 
ChilFd  by  the  sudden  d-mps  of  death, 
^Jj^x'iJi^cXy  di'oops  the  loveliest  flower. 


Yes,  shielded  from  the  woes  of  life 
In  death's  inviolable  sleep, 
Corroding"  grief  nor  passion's  strife 
Shall  cause  her  radiant  eyes  to  weep. 

No  more  bright  pope's  fantastick  train. 
No  more  the  5^1  ant  brood  of  Fear, 
Sliall  hold  their  f  >nd  delusive  reign. 
Or  fright  the  mind  with  frown  severe. 

Vain  solace — still  the  heart  must  moum 
The  lovely  form  to  bliss  assign'd. 
From  warm  affection'swishes  torn 
To  lonj^  oblivion  vc»i^*d. 

Unconscious  now  that  matchless  face 
Of  admiration's  kindling  e}  e, 
OVr-da/.zling-  white,  with  vivid  grracc^ 
Where  glow'd  young  beauty's  roseate 
dye. 

Each  charm,  those  clustering  ringlets  \ 
shade,  ,      .-      u 

The  futcs  with  icy  hand  destroy. 


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A^ 


Bid  the  dirk  eya  of  beiwtyfidft. 
And  blast  the  budA  of  l6Ve  and  jo^r. 

£*en  now^pear  the  fleetinjif  houn 
In  which  thine  image  met  my  sight. 
As,  r»und  the  coueh^  when  micy  poors 
The  iwcct  illusiort*  of  the  night 

Yet,  if  the  poet's  wish  avails, 
Those  hours  in  memory's  pag;e  shall  last. 
Long  as  his  musing  spirit  haiU 
The  fkded  pleasures  of  the  past 

And  ofl  as  genial  June  the  rose, 
The  fragrant  emblem  of  thy  bloom, 
In  summer  beauty  shall  disclose. 
His  heart  shall  mourn  thine  early  doom. 
June,  1606.  H. 

I^r  the  Anthology. 

TO    THE 
l^ttOCELLARIt/S    PELAGtCUS. 

**  ^e\  KiAre  per  medinin  lucta  impenM  tamentl 
Vcrrot  iter,  cekro  ncc  tiDgeret  squore  plantat.** 

THOU  Kttle  irtndVer,  fitting  r»and  oar  item, 
80  far  from  land,  how  can*tt  thou  e'er  retura. 
Thou  hast  00  meant,  or  none  th«t  I  dbccm. 

To  tratd  here  I 
Vew  tempt  the  pcrQt  of  the  ttoroiy  deep. 
Till*  farae\  or  fortune,  all  their  tenxes  steep. 
But  you,  with  thaaklen  toU,  atUI  idly  sweeps 

Where'er  we  steer. 

How  few  dare  change  their  home  and  happy^houn. 
Where  Love  and  Frieadship  weave  their  rival 

Aowerf, 
Save  the  pale  exile  from  Hygeia't  bowers. 

For  thii  rude  place. 
Ye(  thou,  nor  fortune,  fame,  nor  want  constrain, 
'    To  quit  the  rural  realm,  and  peaceful  plain. 
For  ocean*!  barren,  cold,  ind  wild  domain. 
Without  a  bace  ! 

Say,  can*»t  thon  alnmber  m&d  these  billowy  vales. 
Torn  op  to  raountain-sunMnits  by  the  gales. 
When  we  are  drlv's  with  close  contracted  sails, 

'  In  tempests  tost  I 
Then  farewel,  happiest  wand'rer  of  the  wave. 
Thy  Izs&er  wings  the  whelmhUng  storm  shall 

bt^ve, 
When  our  proud  btfk  no  human  skni  can  uve. 
And  ail  is  lost  ! 


•  Tlie  Procellatius  Pelaglcus,  or  Stormy  Petrel, 
batter  known  to  the  mariner  as  one  of  **  Mother 
Carev*s  chickens,'*  is  a  small  bird  about  ilx  in- 
chc!!  \n  Icncth,  and  in  the  extent  of  its  wings, 
thirteen.  It  is  wholly  bUck,  except  the  covert 
of  the  tail,  and  vent-f;«theni,  witlcK  are  white  ; 
tne  MlVis  hooked  at  the  end  ;  the  nostrils  tuba- 
ki*}  its  legs  sleiMler  and  loitg.    ia  the  Ttn^nl 


PARALLELS— c^/.fiflMdl 


THE    PARASITE. 

.....O!  yoor  parasite 

Is  a  most  prcckMB  tnkig,  wopt  from  absrc, 
Not  bred  *mongpt  clods  and  dot-pools,  beit,  09 

earth. 
I  muse,  the  mystery  was  not  nude  a  sdeoc^ 
It  Is  so  liberafly  protest  1   almost 
All  the  wise  worU  is  Uttte  dset  kk  nshne, 
But  parasites,  or  sub-yarasites.    And,  y«, 
I  mean  not  thoae  that  have  your  bare  tow&«% 
To  know,  who's  fit  to  feed  'cm  )  have  no  boyn, 
Wo  family,  no  care,  and  therefor  moidd 
Talcs  for  mcn^  cats,  to  beat  that  sease:  «r  fd 
kitchen-invention,  and  some  stale  recdpti 
To  please  the  belly,  and  the  grols  ;  northoie. 
With  their  court'dog  tricks,  that  can  fiwS  lOi 

fleer. 
Make  thdr  revenue  oat  cf  legs  and  facet, 
tccho  my  lord,  and  Ikk  away  a  moth : 
But  your  fine  elegant  rascal,  that  can  tke. 
And  stoop  (almost  together)  like  an  arrow. 
Shoot  through  the  air  au  nimbly  as  a  start 
Turn  short,  as  doth  a  swrallow  {  and  be  here, 
And  there,  and  here,  and  yonder  all  at  once ; 
Hresent  to  any  humour,  all  occasion  : 
And  change  a  viaor,  swifter  than  t  tkoogbt ! 
This  is  the  creature  bad  the  art  bom  with  b)di 
Toils  not  to  learn  it,  but  doth  practise  it 
Out  of  most  excdlent  natvre  :  and  soch  i^iitt 
An  the  true  parasita,  others  bat  their  Xisi^ 
BEN  JONSOV. 

8tndk)us  to  please,  and  ready  to  submit, 
The  supple  Gaul  was  bom  a  parasite ; 
Still  to  his  Int'rest  true,  where'er  he  goes. 
Wit,  brav»ry,  worth,  his  lavish  tongue  besiowii 
In  ev*ry  face  a  thousand  graces  ihine. 
From  ev*ry  tongue  flows  harrooriy  divine. 
These  arts  In  vain  our  ragged  natives  try. 
Strain  out  with  fault'ring  diffideate  k  lie. 
And  get  a  kick  for  awkward  flattery. 
Bssides,  with  justice,  thb  descending  age 
Admires  their  woad'rous  talents  for  the  state  \ 
Well  may  they  venture  on  the  mimick  *•  ait. 
Who  play  from  morn  to  night  a  borrowM  part  ^ 
Practis*d  their  master's  notions  to  embrace. 
Repeat  his  mazinu,  and  reflect  his  face ', 
With  ev*ry  wild  absurdity  comply. 
And  view  each  object  with  another^  eye ; 
To  shake  with  laughter  ere  the  Jest  they  hetfi 
To  pour  at  vriU  the  counterflllted  tear ; 


Isles  thU  bird  sometimes  serves  the  Bwr««  ©^  * 
candle,  by  drawing  a  wfck  thro*  its  nostrils,  ntflj 
which  it  possesses  the  quality  of  spouting  oU.  K 
is  seen  all  over  the  Atlantick  ocean  st  t^/ P^ 
est  dlstonce  from  Und.  In  tempers,  of  *wo» 
it  is  said  to  warn  tlic  seaman  by  collecting  onoa 
the  stem  of  bis  vessel,  It  sUros  over  the  tops  o». 
tlie  Mllovw  with  incredible  velocity.  These  bktts 
arc  the  ••  Cyptelli"  of  Pliny,  which  he  P»»«»  »* 
mong  the  apodcs  of  AtistoUe  ;  not  .because  iw^ 
waited  feet,  but  were  Kainr-Ja. 


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fOSVBV. 


itn 


And.  ai  thik  patio»  Unti  U«  «oU  oi  heftCt 
To  ihake  in  dogsUyt,  in  December  s^t^kt. 

LiM  toatb^,  tBd  taict 
Moft  finiliBg,  fiaooUs  deCoAcd  ptnfitet, 
Courteotu  dcstroyen,  affably  ««lf  m»  ■Mckbean, 
YovfoDli  «f  Ibnune,  trencher-friends,  time's  aies, 
Cap  and  Icnee  flavet,  vapours  and  minute-jacks  I 
Of  man  and  beaft  the  infinite  mal^y 
Cnat  yo0  ^e  o^.  8HAK. 


r  tte  ln«itlkt  irovet  Mi  dofty  OTMi^ 
Loag-foondlne  alfles,  and  inccrmingtoi  graves. 
Black  Meiaodiolf  fits,  i«d  foond  liar  thvtw* 
▲  de«Hi^ks  ilenoa,  and  a  dread  nft$  i 
Her  gloomy  prefence  laddens  all  ti»c  IbeiM, 
Shades  every  flower,  and  darkens  ev*rr  green. 
Deepens  the  Qfunnw  of  die  falling  f!o«ds, 
And  breatbo  a  browaar  fttrror  on  the  woods. 

POPE, 

With  eyes  np-rab'd,  as  oaa  intpk'd. 
Pale  Melancholy  iat  rctlr'd, 
And  from  her  wfl<«  fequettered  feat. 
In  notes  by  dittance  made  more  fweet, 

Pour'd  through  the  mellow  horn  her  pena«c  foul. 
And  daihing  foft  from  racks  around. 
Bubbling  nmncls  join'd  the  found » 

Through  glades  and  glooms  the  mingled  meafurt 
ttole. 

Or  o*er  Ibme  haunted  ftreams  wilh  fond  delay. 
Round  an  holy  calm  dUTufirg, 
Love  of  peace  and  lonely  muftng 

la  boiiow  murmurs  dy'd  away.  COLLIVS. 

Heccc,  loathed  MeUncholy, 

Of  Cerberus,  and  blackeit  midnight  bom, 

la  Stygian  cave  forlorn, 
Ifongft  horrki  Oupes,  and  (hrieka,  and  fighu  ua. 
holy. 

Find  out  Come  uncouth  cell. 
Where   broodinj^  darkneis   fpreads   his  jealovt 

wings. 
And  the  night-raven  fings ; 
There  under  Ebon  fhades,  and  low-bfow'd  rocks. 
As  ragged  as  thy  locks. 

In  dark  Cimmerian  defert  ever  dwell. 


Come,  penfive  mm,  devout  and  pure. 
Sober,  fteadfaft,  and  demure. 
All  in  a  robe  of  darkcft  grain. 
Flowing  with  majeftick  train. 
And  fable  tlole  of  cyprefs  lawn. 
Over  thy  decent  fhonlders  drawn. 
Come,  but  keep  thy  wonted  (iaic, 
Vnth  cv'n  ftep  and  mufinp  gait. 
And  looks  commercing  with  tlic  flcie*. 
Thy  rapt  ibul  fitting  in  thine  eye*  ; 
There  held  in  holy  paOion  ttiH, 
FoT(jet  th\fe!£  to  mavole,  till 
With  a  fad,  leaden,  downward  caft, 
Yao  6x  xkfiOi  on  the  earth  as  faA. 

M^LTOll. 


Oh  Winter,  ruler  of  the  hiverted  yekr. 

Thy  fcatterM  hah,  with  fleet  like  aftcs  filTd. 

Thy  breath  congeal'd  upon  thy  Upt,  thy  chaekft 

FringM  with  a  beard  made  white  with  other  foowf 

•fhan  thoft  of  age,  thy  forehead  wrapt  in  clouds, 

A  leaflet  branch  thy  fcaplfe,  and  thy  Uwona 

A  flidhig  car,  indebted  to  no  wheels. 

But  urged  by  ilorms  along  its  flipp'ry  way, 

I  love  thee,  all  unlavaly  as  thoa  fecm'ftv 

And  dreaded  at  thoo  art  1  COWMH. 

When  Froft  and  Fhe  with  martial  powers  engag*d, 
Froft,  northward,  fled  the  war,  unequal  wag*d  I   • 
Beneath  the  pole  his  legtens  arg'd  their  flight. 
And  gain'd  i  cave  profound  and  wide  as  night. 
O'er  cheerieft  fcenes  by  DefoUtion  own'd. 
High  on  an  Alp  of  ice  he  fits  enthron*d  I 
One  day-cold  hand  his  chryftal  beard  Aifiains, 
And  ftcptcr'd  one,  o'er  wind  and  tempeft  reigns  ; 
O'er  ftony  magazines  of  hall,  that  ftorm 
The  bloflbmM  fruit,  and  flowery  Sprhig  deform. 
His  langoid  eyes  like  frozen  lakes  appear. 
Dim  gleaming  all  the  light  that  wanders  here 
His  robe  fiiow-wrought,  and  boar'd  with  age :  hif 

breath  ' 
A  nitrous  damp,  that  flrikes  petrifick  death. 

SAVAGE. 


OpciJ  your  ean  :  for  which  of  yoo  will  flop 
The  vent  of  bearing,  when  loud  Rmnour  l^cifcM 
f ,  from  the  orient  to  the  drooping  welt. 
Making  the  wind  my  pot-horfe,  ftill  nnfbld 
The  afts  commenced  on  this  ball  of  earth  : 
Vpon  my  tongue  continual  flanders  ride ; 
The  which  in  eyery  language  I  pronoance. 
Stuffing  the  ears  of  men  wkh  falft  reporta. 
I  f^k  of  peace,  while  covert  enmity. 
Under  the  fmUe  of  lalety,  wounds  the  world  t 
And  who  but  ftooiour,  who  bat  only  I, 
Make  fearfyj  roulters,  and  prrparM  defence  r 
Whim  the  big  ypir,  f^oU*n  yrith  fbme  other  grie^ 
Is  thought  with  fhlU  by  the  Aera  tyraat  war. 
And  no  fbch  matter  ?   Rumour  Is  a  pipe 
Blown  by  furmifes,  Jealoo^es,  coi^cAurcs  : 
And  of  fo  eafy  and  fo  pUia  a  ftop, 
't'hat  the  blunt  monger  with  uncounted  head*. 
The  (tUl-difcordi^u  ^avei  ing  multitude, 
pan  play  upon  it.  SHAK. 

Fame,  the  great  111,  kpm  fVnall  begtnnlpgi  gnmi. 
Swift  from  the  firii  ;  and  every  moment  hrlnps 
New  vigour  to  her  flights,  new  pinions  to  hea 

wings. 
Soon  grows  the  pigmy  to  gl{»antick  flae ; 
Her  feet  on  earth,  iter  furahead  in  the  <kios  :  ^ 
fnrag'd  agaanit  the  gods,  revengeful  earth 
pTQduc  d  her  laft  of  the  TitaoLui  bbth. 
hwih  in  her  walk,  more  fwifr  her  win^red  hafie  j 
A  monfUom  phantom,  horrible  and  %att  ; 
Ah  many  plumes  as  ralfe  licr  lofty  fllglit. 
So  m;\ny  pkrciog  eyas  enlatgc  her  fi^bt  t 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


421 


POErRT. 


MlUiont  of  openiac  moathi  to  f$mt  belong  s 
And  every  mouth  b  furnMb*il  with  a  tongue  : 
And  round  with  Uflcnlng  cars  the  flying  pUgae  it 

hung. 
She  Alls  the  peaceful  unlverfe  with  cries  ; 
Ho  flumbers  ever  clofc  her  wakeful  eyes. 
By  day  from  lofty  towers  her  head  (he  (hews :    » 
And  fpreads,  through  trembling  crowds,  diCiftrous 

news. 
With  court-informers  hauntt,  and  royal  f^iles, 
Tliis  done  relates,  nor  done  (he  feigns ;  and  min< 

gles  truth  with  lies. 
Talk  b  her  but'inc(k  ;  and  her  chief  delight 
To  tell  of  prodigies,  and  cauie  afiHght. 

DRYDEN. 

There  b  a  tall  long-fiUed  dame, 

(Bot  wond'rous  light)  yclcpcd  Fame, 

That.  Ifte  a  thin  camelion,  boards 

Hcrfelf  on  air,  and  eats  her  words  : 

Upon  her  (boulders  wings  (he  wears 

Like  hanging  fleeves,  lin'd  through  with  ears« 

lad  eyes,  and  tongues,  as  poets  lift. 

Made  good  by  deep  mytbologift. 

With  thefe  (he  through  the  welkin  flies. 

And  fomctlmes  carries  truth,  oft  lies ; 

With  letten  hung  like  eallern  pigpons* 

And  Mercuries  of  furtheft  regions, 

Dinmals  writ  for  regulation 

or  lying,  to  inform  the  nation  ; 

And  by  their  pubUck  ufe  to  bring  down 

Tbc  rate  of  whetttones  in  the  kingdom. 

About  her  neck  a  pacquet-male, 

Frang^t  with  ad\ice,  fome  fre(h,  fome  ftale^ 

or  men  that  walk*d  when  they  were  dead, 

Aad  cows  of  monften  brought  to  bed ; 

or  hail-ttones  big  as  pullets  eggs, 

And  poppies  whelpM  with  twice  two  legs  ^ 

A  blasiilg*ttar  feen  in  the  weft. 

By  fix  w  Ceven  men  at  leatt. 

Two  trumpets  (heroes  found  at  once. 

But  both  of  dean  contrary  tones  ; 

Bot  whethei  both  with  the  (kme  wind^ 

Or  one  before  and  one  behind. 

We  know  not  j   only  this  can  toH, 

The  one  founds  vUcly,  th*  other  well  ^ 

And  therefore  vulgar  authors  name 

Th'  one  Good,  tbc  other  Evil,  Fame. 

HU0|BA4g. 


FAIRY    LAND. 

THERE,  muft  thou  wake  perforce  thy  Doric  quill  ^ 
Tii  Fancy's  land,  to  which  thou  fctt'ft  thy  feet* 
Where  ttill,  'tis  £tid,  the  Fairy  people  meet. 

Beneath  each  birken  ihade  on  mead  or  hill. 

There,  each  trim  laft.  that  (kirns  the  miikv  ftorc. 
To  the  fwart  tribes  their  creamy  bowLt  allots  ; 

By  ni^ht  they  (ip  it  round  the  cottagt^loor. 
While  airy  mioftrels  warble  jocund  notes. 

Thero,  every  herd,  by  (ad  experience,  knows 
How  wlngM  with  fate,  their  elf-(hot  arrows  fly 

When  the  fick  ewe  her  fummer  food  foregoes. 
Or  HrctchM  on  earth,  the  heart-fmH  heifers  Ue. 

Such  airy  Wings  awe  the  untutor'd  fwahi ; 


Nor  thoi,  thOBgh  leani*d,  hbhomdkrthou^ 
negled  j 
Let  thy  fweet  Mufe  the  mnd  faith  (bftalB ;     * 

Thefe  are  the  themes  of  fimple,  fore  effect. 
That  add  new  conqoefts  to  her  bouadk&Higs, 

And  fill,  with  doable  force,  her  besrt<«a- 


COLUM. 

There  b  an  old  tale  goes,  that  Heme  the  bsntcr. 
Sometime  a  keeper  here  fai  Windfor  foreft, 
Doth  ail  the  winter  time,  at  ftill  midnigfat. 
Walk  round  about  an  oak,  with  great  nQM 

horns  ; 
And  Bukes  milch*klne  yIeU blood, and  &akot 

chain 
In  a  moft  hidcoui  and  dreadful  manner : 
You  have  heard  of  Inch  a  l^iiit :  and  ikU  70s 

know. 
The  fuperftitioQB  idle-beaded  dd 
Received,  and  did  deliver  to  our  age 
This  Ule  of  Heme  tlic  hunter  for  a  troth. 


TO  THE  HER9  ROS^^IARY.     BY  HESlf 
^XRKE    WHITE. 

Sveet  scented  flower  !  wlio*rt  wont  to 

bloom 
On  Tanjiarj's  front  severe, 
And  o*er  the  wint'ry  desert  drear 
To  waft  thy  waste  perfume  ! 
Come,  .thou  shalt  form  my  nosegny  now, 
And  I  will  bind  thee  round  my  brow, 
And  as  I  twine  t'le  mouniful  wreatli* 
I'll  weave  a  melancholy  song", 
And  sweet  the  strain  shall  be,  and  long 
The  melody  of  death. 

Comefun'ralflow'r!  wholov'sttodwcD 
With  the  pale  corse  in  lonely  tomb, 
And  throw  across  the  desert  gloom 
A  sweet  decaying  sipell. 
Come  press  my  lips,  and  lie  with  me 
Beneath  tJ)e  lofvly  ajldertrce, 
And  we  will  sleep  a  pleasant  sleep, 
And  not  a  care  shall  dare  intrude 
To  break  the  marble  solitude, 
So  peaceful,  and  so  deep. 

And  hark  !  tlie  wind-god  as  he  flici 
Moans  hollow  in  the  forest  trees, 
And  sailing  on  the  g^isty  breeze 
Mysterious  musick  dies'. 
S  we- 1  flo\)r*r,  that  requiem  wild  is  iniD«f 
It  warns  me  to  the  lonely  shrine, 
Tlie  cold  turf  altar  of  tlie  dead  ; 
My  grave  shall  be  in  }on  lone  spot, 
Where  as  I  lie  by  all  for^t, 
A  dying  fragrance  thou  wilt  o*er  WJ 
ashes  slied. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


THE  BOSTON  REVIEW. 

AUGUST,    1806. 


Librom  ttnun  legl  &  qaAm  dOigentininie  potiii  annotavl.  qus  commuUnda,  qoK  cximenda,  ar> 
bltnrer.  Nam  ego  dicere  veram  assucvL  Neque  uui  patkntlus  rcprehenduntur,  quam  qjA 
maxime  laadarl  merentiir.— —Pliny. 


ARTICLE  38. 

Volume  I.  Part  I,  of  The  Mw  Cyclopedia^  or  Universal  Dictionary  ^ 
ArtH  and  Sciencesy  formed  ufion  a  more  enlarged  plan  of  arrangement 
than  the  Dictionary  of  Air,  Chambers  ;  comprehending  the  various  ar* 
tides  of  that  ivorky  with  additions  and  improvements  ;  together  with 
new  subjects  of  biography^  geography^  and  history  ;  and  adapted  to  the 
present  state  of  literature  and  science.  By  Abraham  Rees^  D,  D,y 
F.  jR,  S,<f  editor  of  the  last  edition  qf  Mr.  Chambers's  Dictionary^  with 
the  assistance  of  eminent  professional  gentlemen,  ^  Illustrated  with  nev9 
plateSy  including  mapSy  engraved  for  the  work  by  some  of  the  most 
distinguished  artists,  First  American  edition^  revised^  corrected^  en- 
largedy  and  adapted  to  this  country,  by  several  literary  and  scientifick 
characters,  Ato,  Price  of  the  half  volume  to  subscribers  g3.  Phila- 
delphia, printed  by  R.  Carr  for  Samuel  F.  Bradford. 

TL  HE  character  of  Dr.  Rees*  Cyclopedia,  as  for  as  the  volumes  have 
been  published^  is  so  well  known  from  the  various  English  Reviews, 
which  are  regularly  received  in  this  country,  that  it  would  seem  ii)  a 
degtee  impertinent  for  us  to  enter  into  a  formal  examination  of  its 
merits.  It  will  be  more  decorous  in  the  young  ciiticks  of  the  New 
World,  though  to  some  members  of  the  republick  of  letters  (which 
like  other  republicks  has  its  jacobins)  it  may  appear  slavish,  to  bow 
with  deference  to  the  judgment  of  the  literary  veterans  of  the  Old 
Continent,  who  have,  with  few  exceptions,  expressed  their  warm  ap- 
probation of  the  general  execution  of  this  work  ;  and  to  this  opinion  we 
do,  after  an  attentive  perusal  of  the  most  important  articles,  very  cheer- 
fully subscribe. 

We  shall  therefore  confine  our  remarks  chiefly  to  a  comparison  of 
the  American  with  the  EngUsk  edition,  and  to  the  correction  of  such 
typographical  and  other  errors,  as  we  have  been  able  to  detect  in  ei- 
ther. And  here  we  take  pleasure  in  imparting  to  our  readers,  how 
much  satisfsiction  we  felt  on  the  first  view  of  the  American  edition,  at 
the  decisive  and  honourable  testimony  which  it  bore  to  the  floMiishing 
state  of  the  arts  oi printing  and  engraving  in  our  country.  It  is  one  of 
the  few  American  editions,  which,  we  can  with  truth  say,  is  not  surpass- 
ed by  the  English.  Nor  will  we  rcstiict  our  commendaiion  to  the 
mechanical  execution  of  the  volume  before  us  ;  we  have  found  useful 
additions  made  to  some  of  the  articles,  which  we  shall  take  notice  of 
in  another  part  of  our  Review.  But  here  commendaiion  must  stop  ; 
for,  to  adopt  an  old  sentiment,  though  we  love  our  countrymen  much| 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


4d4  &£KS'  CYCLOPEDIA* 

li^  ion  tfmiA  ttOTO  )  and  troth  compels  t!«  to  4eelMe....fli«l  fills  Anicr* 

ican  eduion  of  the  Cyclopedia  appears*  to  be,  at  least  in  respect  to  the 
original  editors  of  itf  in  aonie  dc^i-^e,  S  Uterarf^   ffaiul.     llow  far  the 
publisher,  Mr.  "Bradrord,  holds  himself  responsible  for  the  contents  of 
this  edition,  we  do  not  know  ;   but  we  must  say,  that   the  manner  in 
which  it  is  to  be  conducted,  judyjing  from  the   present  half-volume, 
throws  no  trifling  weight  of  responsibility  upon  the  gentlemen  in  this 
««uiitry,  who  superintend  the  editorial  department ;   a  responsibility, 
Wiiich  we  hope   has  not  been  the  only  mouye  ibr  keeping  their  names 
from  the  publick.     Strong  as  thia^  language  may  appear,  we^  trust  the 
impartial  reader  will  be  satisfied,  that  it  is  not  stronger,  than  is  warran* 
ted  by  the  facts,  which  we  shall  presently  exhibit. 
.    The  prospectus  informs  us,  that  the  EngUsh  edition  is  published  tm- 
iJer  the  direction  of  Dr.  Rees,  the  learned  divine,  whose  name  the  work 
bears  ;  and  that  he  is  assisted  by  about  forty  other  distinguished  Euro- 
pean literary  gentlemen,  whose  names   are  given  to  the  publick,  and 
who  therefore  stand  pledged  for  the  faithful  execution  of  the  work, 
ami  (what  is  of  not  less  importance)  for  the  firinci/ile€  maintained  in  it. 
Such  is  the  work  which  the  American  publisher  recommends  to  his 
'  subscribers  ;  a  work,  "  the  execution  of  which  (to  use  the  language 
Adopted  by  him)  is  guaranteed  by  the  respectable  names,**  which  he  gives 
to  the  public  from  theEnglish  advertisement-    Not  content,howcver,with 
servilely  copying  the  London  edition,  he  promises,  with  a  very  com- 
mendable spirit  of  patriotism,  "  amendment  and  addicion  in  those   parts, 
^<  at  least,  which  relate  to  the  United  States,"  and  informs  us,  that  "-he 
«  has  engaged  the  assistance  of  gentlemen,  whose  talents  and  celebrity 
^  da  honour  to  their  country,  kind  will  essentially  enrich  this  important 
«  work."     These  were  the  editor's  prwrdaes^  and  thcjr  were  probi^f 
^Qtated  by  patriotism  as  well  as  interest,  and,  we  have  had  the  chanty 
fo  believe,  were  made  with  the  sincere  intention  of  fiilfiUbg  them.    Yet 
(it  is  painful,  but  we  must  make  the  inquiry)  how  have  thc»  promises 
been  fulfilled  ?     Why,  either  by  the  most  unfortunate   misconcepdoa 
of  the  nature  of  his  undertaking,  or,  what  we  are  loth  to  bcHevc,  by  a 
most  daring  disregard  of  his  word,  he  presents  the  first  half-volume  to 
the  publick  almost  without  a  single  claim  to  patronage  on  the  princi* 
pal  ground,  upon  which  it  had  been  i^ecOmmended  ;  we  mean^...that  it 
3vas  to  be  a  work  guaranteed  by  the  authority  of  Dr.  Recs  and  his  able 
coadjutors.     The  American  editors  must  know,  that  it  it  no/  a  work 
thus  guaranteed  ;  it  is  not  a  work  resting  upon  the  reputation  of  able 
and  responsible  European  literati,  who  have  not  been  afraid  to  give 
their  names  to  the  publick,  as  a  pledge  for  the  felthful  peHbrroancc  of 
their  undertaking.  ..  It  is  not,  in  $hort,  «  Dr.  Rees'  Cyclopedia,"  ^ut 
the  Cyclopedia  of  Drs.  X,  Y,  and  Z,  of  Philadelphia,  New-York,  &c. 
So  for  is  it  from  being  Dr.  Reea*  work,  that  we   can  point  out  parts  of 
it,  which  are  palmed  upon  the  publick  as  his,  Uiat  are  d'uectly  in  coo^ 
tradiction  with  what  that  gentleman  has  publislicd  in  his  own  edition  ; 
sentiments  which  that  learned  divine,  we  venture  to  s*y,  would  not  only 
disown,  but  would  think  it  his  duty  to  counteract  by  ail  the  justifiable 
•means  in  his  power.     No,  this  edition  is  the  woriv  of  unknown  and 
irresponsible  "  literary  scientifick  characters"  (we  take  Mr.  Bra(&rd*s 
word  for  the  literature  and  science  of  the  gentkmcu)  ijipucown  oouDtnr* 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


BJUS'S   CYC&OPXBSAi. 


4B$ 


The  publisher  bai  thi&s,  by  a  strange  fatality,  H  it  was  unli^tentionaU 
fidinpletely  destroyed  what  he  had  just  b<ffore  held  out  to  his  patrons^ 
as  one  of  the  great  excellences  of  this  work. ...the  authority  it  derived 
from  the  known  talents  and  responsibility  of  the  European  gentlemen, 
who  are  engaged  in  it. 

/  The  only  modei  in  which  the  authotity  (and,  fife  should  say,  the  chief 
▼ahie)  of  the  work  could  be  preserved,  woiild  have  been  to  distinguish, 
by  some  obvious  mark,  every  addition  or  -variation  in  the  American 
edition.  We  shall  be  told  perhap^,  that  this  is  already  done  in  part  ; 
this  siu*ely  cannot  be  denied,  but  Ave  must  be  allowed  to  add,  that  this 
fmrtial,  designation  is  as  mischievous  as  none  at  all,  because  some  of 
the  moBt  material  alterations  are  made,  without  being  thus  distio- 
guished. 

The  first  article  of  importance,which  has  attracted  our  attention,ls  the 
life  of  the  celebrated  Abernethy.  As  this  article  is  a  fair  specio^en 
of  the  manner  in  which  other  parts  of  the  work  are  mutilated,  we  sball 
exhibit  it  pi*etty  much  at  large  ;  and  this  will  render  a  minute  exsmin- 
a^n  of  many  others  unnecessary.  We  shall  place  the  extracts  itotrt 
the  two  editions  in  opposite  columns,  and  distinguish  the  variations  by 
i)alicka. 


American  edition, 

AaxiiirtTfiY  John.  ' 

In  irOiSy  After  having  httti  ^  aome 
foan  at  Dobtin  with  a^  vi«w  to  farther 
iB^tfuveteeat  he  was  onUined  ai  Ab- 
trim ;.  wb«rtt  Ib4  puUick  pcrfomMiic«s 
W0re  jnoch  idmired,  and  where  his  ge- 
neral conduct  and  distinguished  attain- 
ments  recommended  him  to  the  estaem 
qC  stt  who  iBnew  him.    In  171^  &c. 


Tb»  interference,  of  this  assembly 
wt»  MfMAgnant  ,to  those  sentiments 
which  Mr^  Ab^nnethy  had  beetiledto. 
entertain  by  an  attention  to  the  Bango- 
%iX2t  oontroversy,  which  prevailed  in 
Knf^and  about  this  time.  Many  other 
i^uuataffs  in  the  North  of  IreUnd,  by 
ifmtmtM  the  writrors  of  Dr.  Hoadl^ 
M4hiaaacoGt«ttts  .adopted  opinions  si. 
Wgr tiithoie  qf  Mr.  Abemethy.  They 
^^'^lafikd  a  society  whose  professed 
was  to  bring  things  to  the  test  of 
and  scripUira. .  This  design  was 
•uggestod  by  Mr.  Abemethy. 


Vol.  3.     No.  8. 


8P 


English  edition* 

In  tf03,  ailer  bavhrgbeen  for  sone 
veATs  at  Dublin  w^ith  a  view  to  farther 
improvement  he  was  ordained  at  An* 
tiim  ;  where  his  publick  performances 
were  qauch  admired,  and  where  hisge- 
neral  conduct  and  distaiguisbed  attain- 
ment^  recommended  him  to  the  esteem 
of  all  who  knew  him.  He  wa#  mMck 
respect9d  not  only  hy  hi»  brethren  in  the 
miniHiyf  but  bjf  maty  ^  the  laity^  vtho 
uere  pleated  vfUh  the  urbmnity  ^  his  7nan~ 
nprt.  Iffs  taleifU  and  virtues  gave  him 
a  considerable  ascendency  in  the  eynod^  sm 
that  he  had  a  large  share  in  the  matlage'- 
ment  of  publick  affairs.  As  a  speaktr  he 
viae  considered  as  their  chief  ornament  ; 
and  he  mxiintained  his  character  in  these 
respects  and  his  interest  in  their  esteem  to 
the  last,  even  nuhen  a  change  of  his  relig^ 
ious  sentiments  had  excited  the  opposition  of 
many  violent  antagonists.     In  iri6y  &c. 

The  interference  of  this  assembly 
was  repugnant  to  tliose  sentiments  of 
religious  freedom  which  Mr.  Abemethy 
had  been  lead  to  entertain,  by  the  ixer» 
eiee  <f  his  own  vigorous  faculties  and  by 
an  attention  to  tlie  fiANooaiAW  cootroo 
versy  which  prevailed  in  England  id>ovt 
this  dme.  Many  other  nonisters  in  the 
north  of  Ireland^  formed  more  enl^vtd 
ideas  ff  christian  liberty  and  charity  than 
tfiey  had  been  accustomad  to  doh][  m4uu^ 
of  the  wiitin^  of*  Dr.  Hoadly  andliis 
associates.  With  a  viev>  to  the  imffrave- 
ment  of  useful  kncmleJge  they  instituted 
a  society  whose  professed  aim  was  to 


Digitized 


byGoOg 


r 


4S^ 


RUtf^s  cTctopji^rr. 


American  editio/u 


Again— i 

Mr.  Abem«thy  wai  jusUy  considered 
M  the  lieikd  of  the  noD-suhtcriben,  and 
he  became  of  course  a  principal  suiyect 
of  centure  and  dUeipline, 

In  an  eariy  period  of  this  controver- 
sjr,  viz.  in  1719,  he  published  a  sermon 
from  Romans  xiv.  5.  in  which  he 
frrfkued  to,  e9tpittin  the  ng^XM  of  private 
judgment  and  the  foundations  of  chris- 
tian liberty. 

Fh>m  that  time  the  excluded  mem- 
bers formed  themselres  into  a  separate 
Presbytery.  Mr.  Abernethy  found  that 
hUftrmur  repmtation  vhu  no  ttcuritj  to 
him  againtt  the  eviU  which  he  wok  nam  to 
experience. 


Again-* 

He  continued  lUs  labours  in  Wtxxl- 
street  for  ten  years.  But  a  sudden  at- 
tack of  the  ffout  in  the  head,  to  which 
disorder  he  had  been  subject,  fhistrated 
the  expectations  of  his  mends,  and  he 
died  December  1740,  in  the  60th  year 
of  his  age.  Mr.  Abernethy  was  twice 
married  ;  first  soon  afler  his  settlement 
at  Afitrim,  to  a  lady  of  excellent  cha- 
racter, of  whom  he  was  deprived  in 
1712,  and  again  aHer  his  removal  to 
Dublin,  anoSier  lady,  with  whom  he 
lived  to  his  death. 


Again— 

The  most  celebrated  of  Mr.  Abcme- 
^y's  writings  were  his  two  volumes  of 
Discourses  of  the  Divine  Attributes, 
which  were  much  admired  at  the  time 
of  their  publication  and  honotirably  re- 
commended by  the  late  arthbiehop  Her- 
wing.    lisur  Tohutaes,  &e. 


Engiieh  edition. 
bring  thm^B  to  the  test  of  reason  andf 
scripture.      This  laudable    deti^  w.s 
probaUy  sug^sted  l^y  Mr.  Abernethy. 
&c. 

Mr.  Abernethy  was  justly  considered 
as  the  head  of  the  non-subscribers,  and 
he  became  of  course  a  principal  objea 
of  reproach  and  persecution. 

In  an  early  period  of  this  controver- 
sy, viz.  in  1719,  be  published  a  sermon 
from  Romans  xiv.  5.  in  which  he  ah- 
plained  iht  rights  of  private  judgment 
and  the  foundations  of  chrisUan  lib- 
erty. 

From  that  time  the  excluded  mem- 
hers  formed  themselves  into  a  separate 
Presbytery,  and  prepared  to  encoonker 
many  diffcuhiee  and  hardehipe.  Mr. 
Abernethy  found  that  hitjxutly  acquired 
reputation^  which  he  had  uniformly  mcdn- 
tained  by  a  mott  exemplary  life^  xoas  m 
security  to   him  against  thae  evilt. 

He  continued  his  labours  hi  Wood- 
street  for  ten  years,  and  enjoyed  great 
satitfaction  in  me  society  and  esteem  of 
his  friends.  From  the  strength  rf  Ms 
consHttuion^  the  vigoar  ^his  epifi^  mdtke 
unijbrm  temperance  of  his  lije^  there  mm 
reason  to  hope  that  his  us^ulnets  nuotdd 
/une  been  prolonged.  But  a  sudden  ^ 
tack  of  the  gout  in  the  headr  to  which 
disorder  he  had  been  subject,  frustrated 
the  expectations  of  his  friends  and  be 
died  Dec.  1740,  in  the  60th  year  of  bit- 
age.  For  this  event  he  was  fully  preper- 
edf  and  he  met  it  with  great  eomposwt 
and  firmness  of  mind,  a  cheerful  acqui- 
escence in  the  will,  and  a  fixed  trust  in  the 
power  and  goodness  of  the  Almifhtj. 
Mr.  Abernethy  was  twice  roamed » 
first  soon  after  his  settlement  at  Antrim 
to  a  lady  of  excellent  character,  of  whom 
he  was  deprived  in  1712  ;  and  ag^ 
artcr  his  removal  to  Dublin  to  anotScr 
lady  witli  whom  he  lived  in  all  the  tender' 
ness  of  conjugal  affection  to  hi»  death. 

The  most  celebrated  of  Mr.  Aberne- 
thy's  writings  were  his  two  volumes  of 
Discourses  of  the  Divine  Attributes 
which  were  much  admired  attfie^me 
of  their  publication  and  honounMy  re- 
commended by  the  late  excellent  arch- 
bishop Herring  r  and  are  still  heU  ik  the 
highest  esteem  by  those  who  are  Stpeeei 
to  approve  the  most  liberal  or  manfy  **»- 
timents  on  the  great  subject  of  naturtdtib*^ 
ligion.    Four  volumes,  S^. 


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KEXS'S   OTGLOPEDIJL.  427 

American,  edition,  English  edition. 

Tie  also  left  behind  him  a  Diary  of  He  also  lefl  b^nd  him  a  Diaiyof 
lUs  life,  consisting  of  six  large  volumes  his  life,  consisting  of  six  large  volume* 
in  4to.  of  which  the  author  of  his  life  in  4to.  of  which' the  author  •  of  his  life 
has  given  a  large  account,  and  from  has  given  a  large  account,  and  from 
which  he  has  made  many  extracts,  which  he  haa^made  many  extracts  vA/M 
Biog.  Brit.  bear  ample  testimony  to  the  lingular  ex- 

ceiience  of  hit  diipoeition  and  character. 

Biog.  Brit 

Taking  this  whole  article  together^  and  comparing  it  with  the  real 
.character  of  Abemethy,  as  attested  by  the  united  voices  of  biographers^ 
.we  do  not  recollect  a  more  insidious  attempt  to  rob  the  defenceless 
dead  of  a  well-earned  reputation,  and  to  exhibit  a  mere  corpse  of  char- 
•cter  (if  we  may  use  the  expression)  stripped  of  all  animation  and  of 
every  positive  quality,  than  here  discovei*s  itself.  If  it  was  of  impoiv 
tance  to  know  any  one  circumstance  of  Abernethy's  life,  it  surely  was  se 
to  be  distinctly  informed,  that  his  excellent  heart,  as  well  as  head,  se- 
cured him  the  esteem  of  ail  to  the  last,  <<  even  when  a  change  of  his 
religious  sentimenu  had  excited  the  .opposition  of  many  violent  antag- 
onists." Yet  the  paragraph,  which  expressly  exhibits  this  part  of  his 
character,  ts  expunged  from  the  Amei^icap  edition  1  If,  too,  it  was  oi 
consequence  to  know,  that  Mr.  Abernethy's  **  senthrients*'  Offered  from 
many  who  were  around  him,  we  ought  to  be  informed  ftv/iat  sentiments 
4U^  alluded  to.  Yet  the  Aipedcan  editors,  instead  of  informing  us  thaf 
they  were  "  sentiments  (^reiigious  freedom j*'  (as  is  done  jn  the.ociginai) 
suppress  these  last  words,  and  leave  us  to  infer  what  seniiments  are  in^ 
tended,  from  our  acquaintance  with  the  Bangotian  contrcrversy  :  a  con- 
troversy, of  which,  we  venture  to  say,  not  one  deader  on  a  hundred 
knows  ^j  thiiig*  Nor  is  tliis  all  :— the  English  ^^r^  te|ls  us,  that 
these  sentiqaents  were  not  merely  the  result  qf  his  attentlPP^  the  Ban* 
gotian  controversy  (which  makes  them  in  a  degree  the  ucgn^equenceof 
party -bias),  but  also  "  qft/ie  exercise  qf/tis  own  vigorous  Jacuides,**  This 
last,  and,  we  should  say,  this  material  circumstance  if  A.'s  authoaty  is 
to  have  any  weigbt  pn  these  questions,  ^s  wbolly  suj)pre^s^d  .in  the 
American  edition  ! 

Our  second,  extract  from  the  £n^/t«A  edition  says  :  ^  tl^is  iaudable 
Resign  [of  bringing  things  to  the  test  of  reason  and  scr^ture]  was  pro- 
bably suggested  by  ^^r.  Abemethy.'*  \yh^t  could  be  more  unexcep- 
tionable than  this  expression  ?  What,  we  ask  every  ^beral  qian,  can  be 
x^ore  laudable  thai;k  ^'  to  bring  things  to  tbe  test  of  reason  and  scripture"  ? 
Do  they  then  i*eally  mean  to  insimiate,  that  reasop  aud  scripture  are 
not  to  be  the  test  of  tilings  ?  If  so,  what  must  we  think  of  the  firinci/Ues 
of  the  men,  who  conduct  this  new  edition  of  the  Cjxlopedia,  and  of  the 
iifi inner,  in  which  they  intend  tp  republish  the  work  ?  Yet  our  Ameri- 
can editors  expunge  the  word  laudable^  vxA  leave  Us  to  presume,  that, 
in  their  judgrn^snt,  such  a  design  was  not  laudable. 

In  the  next  extract  the  latter  part  of  the  sentence,  which  speaks  of 
Mp-  A.'s  ''  justly  acquired  reputation,"  is  partly  altered  and  partly  sup- 
pressed. Instead  of  fairly  prescntine  to  the  reader,  what  kind  of  rcpur 
tation  Mr.  A.  enjoyed  aiid  how  long  he  had  maintained  it,  they  just  tell 
#s  coldly  of  his  "/or;w;T  reputation,"     Gracjipus  heaven  !  is  this  the 


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428 


Tm  EKCRAXTEO   LAKE. 


treatment  deserved  by  this  emi- 
nent man  ?  is  this  history  ?  is 
this  biography  ? 

But  the  first  of  our  two  last  ex-! 
tracts  drscovers  more  of  the  mo- 
tires  and  temper  of  the  American 
editoi's,  than  any  of  the  preceding. 
They  suppress  the  passage,  ex- 
pressive of  the  high  estinialion,  in 
which  Ahernethy's  works  are  said 
to  be  held  at  this  day  ;  and  though 
they  admit  that  formerly  these 
works  were  honourably  recommen- 
ded by  archbishop  Herring,  yet, 
apparently  lest  the  reader  should 
think  the  archbishop's  recommen- 
dation was  worth  something,  they 
do  not  forget  to  strip  the  venerable 
prelate  of  a  Ihtle  epithet  (the  epi- 
thet "  excellent"),  which  liberality 
would  allow  after  death  to  any 
man,  who  possessed  a  little  more 
than  common  honesty  and  com- 
mon abilities. 

One  more  remark  shall  finish 
what  we  have  to  say  upon  the 
iii^hly  reprehensible  manner,  in 
which  this  article  is  republished\ 
The  important  words  of  the  last 
extract,  which  mention  the  aingu- 
iar  excellence  of  A.'s  disposition 
and  character,)  are  wholly  suppres- 
sed in  the  American  edition.  And 
yet,  after  such  unwarrantable  mu- 
tilations,...such  criminal  suppres- 
pressions  of  historical  fects,... these 
gentlemen  cite  the  Bio^aphia 
Britannica^  as  their  authority  ! 
To  be  continued. 

ART. '39. 

The  Enchanted  Lake  of  the  Fairy 
Morgana.  From  the  Orlando 
Inamorato  of  Francesco  Berni, 
New-York.  Riley  8c  Co.  1806. 
^vo.fjp.  67. 

In  revicwinfx  so  singular  a  pro- 
duction, as  an  American  transtatirn 
of  an  episode  in  the  Orlando  In- 
amorato of  Berni,  we  are  cMigid 


to  confess  the  diftctilty  of  procur- 
ing suitable  assistanges  to  the  task 
of  criticism.  This  obstacle  we 
have  formerly  ^tatf  d«  and  we  mre 
i^^ain  called  upon  to  acknowledf^ 
its  continuance.  We  have  inquir- 
ed, but  in  vain,  for  the  poem  of 
Boiardo,  and  its  rrfaccimento  by 
Berni  ;  and  we  have  pot  been  able 
to  procure  the  eubordinale  auscil- 
ianes  of  Crescerabini  and  Tira- 
boschi.  Of  course,  we  were  fore- 
ed  to  consult  the  accessible  author- 
ities of  other  writers,  who  merely 
reflect  a  feeble  beat  and  cast  a  fiaint 
illumination  on  the  decaying  poe- 
tiy  of  an  Italian  author,  once  bigh-> 
ly  distinguished.  These  circum- 
stances demand  an  attention  to  the 
state  of  our  publick  libraries  ; 
they  exact  the  solicitude  of  men 
of  riches  and  rank,  to  promote 
the  establishment  of  large  col- 
lections for  the  service  of  liter* 
ature.  The  patrons  of  leaminf^ 
should  be  found  among  the  favour- 
ites of  fortune  and  the  dispeBsers 
of  power.  If  these  cannot  settle 
pensions,  or  bestow  offices,  they 
can  at  least  accelerate  the  progress 
of  knowledge,  and  direct  its  exer« 
tions,  by  exhibiting,  what  has  for- 
merly been  asceitained,  to  the  re- 
searches of  the  literary  missioDsry. 
Poetry  may  continually  delight  m 
the  study  of  nature,-  may  find  *ser- 
mons  in  stones,  and  books  in  the 
running  brooks' ;  but  scientifick 
criticism  must  dwell  in  the  cabinets 
of  the  curious,  and  range  through 
the  alcoves  of  literature. 

The  work  we  arc  about  to  re- 
view is  a  translation  from  the  po- 
etry of  an  old  Italian  author,  now 
little  known.  In  this  country  it 
may  well  be  considered  a  singular 
production,  and  therefore  we  shall 
make  no  apology  to  our  re&ders 
for  introducing  the  review  of  it  by 
some  account  of  the  life  of  Berni, 
of  his  character  as  an  author,  and 


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YKE   EUC RANTED   LASC 


of  th«  Itatiatt  het^icli  poetry  as 
connected  v^ith  him  ;  and^M^  KfaaN 
also  offer  a  few  remarks  on  the 
expediency  of  a  complete  transla- 
tion of  his  Orlando  Inamorato. 
indeed  we  feel  justified  in  pursiung 
this  course,  because  it  is  necessary 
in  order  to  render  intelligible  any 
criticism  of « the  Enchanted  Lake/ 
BeddeSf  we  poor  reviewers  are  so 
often  obliged  to  traverse  barren 
f^round,  where  not  even  an  heath 
fiower  blooms,  that  we  willingly 
turn  «side  into  a  foot-path,  which 
may  lead  to  cool  Waters  and  bow- 
ers of  enchantment. 

Fraflccsco  Bemi,  the  Italian  po- 
et, was  bom  of  a  noble  but  indigent 
&mily  at  Amporecchio  inTuscany, 
towards  the  close  of  the  l5th  cen- 
tury.    Till  the  age  of  twenty,  he 
lived  in  distress  and   poverty  at 
Florence.     He  was  aftei*wards  pat- 
ronized  by  his  relations,  cardinal 
Bernardo  of  Bibiena,  the  cardinal's 
fiephcw,  Angeflo,  and  by  the  datary 
Giberti,  bishop  of  Verona,  with 
^honf  He  lived  seven  years.     Put 
neither  from  his  noble  fi  iends  nor 
from  his  own  talents  could  he  de- 
rive much  advantage,  for  in  his 
disposition    he  was    careless  and 
imprudent  ;    he  hated  every  kind 
of  restraint  and  delighted  in  plea- 
sure,  satire,  jokes,  and  buffoonery. 
Yet  his  talents  and  literatiu'e  secu- 
red hhn  an  high  esteem  among 
tlie  leiimed,  and  at  Rome  he  was  a 
valuable  and  illustrious  mernbcr  of 
the   academy  de    VignajuoH,      In 
that  city,  then  so  celebrated  for  its 
poets  and  stbolars,  he  passed  some 
years,  and  at  length  scfught  retire- 
ment in  Florence,  as  a  canon  in 
the  cathedral,  and  lived  under  tlie 
protection  of  cardinal  Hippolito  de 
A€edici  «id  the  duke  Alexander. 
These  patrons,    however,  having 
fionoured  his  talents  with  k  valu- 
aMe   establishment,   involved   his 
Hie  in  misery  by  their  quan^ls  and 


intrigvies.  One  of  them  endeav- 
otiined  to  bribe  Bemi  to  pcnson  the 
other,  but  the  poet  baving  the  Tir* 
tue  to  resist,  wa^  himself  poisoned 
in  1 536,  as  a  reward  for  his  grati- 
tude and  magnanimity.  This  ac- 
count, however,  is  not  free  from 
suspicions  of  £[ilseness  ;  and  from 
Monnoye's  construction  of  a  piay*^ 
ful  letter,  written  by  Nicolo  Fran- 
co to  Petrarch,  in  1538,  it  would 
seem  that  the  physicians  of  Flo* 
rence,  being  called  to  him  when 
sick,  had,  by  their  neglect  or  bad 
treatment,  designedly  avenged 
themselves  for  the  railleries  and 
satires,  which  their  patient  had 
composed  against  them,  their  in- 
struments, and  their  profession. 
But  as  this  constmction  rests  on 
an  equivoque,  in  the  expression  i 
Medici^  it  is  but  doing  justice  to 
the  illustrious  family  of  Flprcnce> 
and  to  the  hppourable  profession 
of  medicine,  to  quote  the  letter,  as 
it  is  printed  in  Monnoye's  notes  to 
the  article  Berni,  in  £aiilet's  juge* 
inena  (If  Savana,  Hora  del  Ber^ 
nia  non  vi  fioaao  dar  altro  avviao  ae 
Tion  che  hax^endo  fatti^  non  ae  che 
capitoU  €  bate  de  gui  orhiaH  i  Mcdz*. 
ci  I'/ian  mandato  viq,  di  Firenza. 
Dove  egli  ai  trove  mo  non  at  aa, 
^  At  present  I  cannot  tell  you  any 
other  news  about  Beiiii,  exce^ 
that  having  made  I  know  not  what 
satires  and  jokes  upon  urinals,  the 
physicians  (or,  the  Medici)  have 
Sent  him  away  fi-om  Florence.— :. 
Where  he  npw  is,  nobody  can  tell.* 
8ome  biographers  credit  neitlier 
of  the  accounts,  and  place  his  death 
towards  1550,  and  others  mention 
that  he  published  his  great  ppeticaj 
^ork  in  the  middle  of  the  16th 
cehtury.  His  death  was  certainly 
obscure,  and  perhaps  it  was  tragi- 
cal. The  name  of  Bemi  must  be 
added  to  the  list  of  scholars,  wh^ 
exemplify  the  unfortunate  truths, 
that  gqiius  is  not  necessarily  altied 


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430 


ins  EKCH ANTED   LAKB* 


to  phideaee,  and  that  ^e  last  hoars 
ef  those  may  be  miserable,  who 
dace  were  encircled  by  patrons  and 
honoured  by  the  praises  of  learn- 
ing. 

.  As  an  author,  Bemi  is  chiefly 
distinguished  by  his  burlesque 
composidons.  He  has  the  honour 
of  giving  his  name  to  a  particular 
species  of  burlesque,  which  the 
Italians  caU  Berneeco,  and  the 
French  oriticks  Btmic^gue.  He  al- 
so excelled  in  satire  and  invective, 
which  were  keen  and  bitter  ;  for 
the  matter  was  very  obnoxious, 
and  the  manner  natural,  easy,  and 
elegant.  He  wrote  the  life  of  the 
infamous  Pietro  Aretino,  of  whom 
he  was  the  particular  enemy,  in  a 
style  of  caustick  severity,  and  with 
a  mind  of  remorseless  aversion. 
Boccalini  in  his  RagguagU  di  Far- 
nas^Oy  considers  him  as  one  of  the 
greatest  satyrists  whom  Italy  has 
produced,  and  represents  lum  on 
the  hill  of  the  mu^e^^  as  challeng- 
ing Juvenal  to  iao  exertion  of  his 
power's,  for  the  purpose  of  deter- 
mining, whetliex  the  Latjn  ur  the 
Italian  laAguage  was  the  best  suit^ 
ed  for  reproach  and  invective  ;  but 
Juvenal  would  fiot  accept  the  offer 
of  Bemi,  who  consequently  derives 
«n  evident  superiority  over  the  Ror 
man  satirist.  His  ptincipal  work 
is  the  recomposing  of  Boiardo's 
Orlando  Inamorato,  which  he  has 
aldfost  entirely  superceded,  so  that 
the  original  is  l^t;tle  Jknow;i  and  al- 
most unregarded. 
•  In  the  14th  century  the  ep^ck 
and  romance  writers  of  Italy  w^re 
chiefly  employed  ii)  celebrating  the 
wars  of  Charlemagne,  the  adven* 
tures  of  the  Paladins,  the  wander- 
ings of  illufitrious  damsels,  the 
ieats  of  chivalry,  and  the  enchant- 
ments of  mi^icians.  These  ac- 
tions furnished  a  subjectto  almost 
every  poet,  which4ie  jti^ated  agree- 
^\y  to  the  nature  of  his  genius  ; 


sometimes  they  were  rendered  fi* 
diculous  in  extravagant  and  bur* 
lesque  stanzas,  and  sometimes  thej 
became  highly  pleasant  and  inter* 
eating  in  serious  poetry  and  bar* 
monious  versiflcalion.  Such,  how* 
ever,  was  the  taste  of  the  age,  that 
absurdity  of  story  and  unmeaning 
expression  continually  occur  in  the 
best  poedcal  compositions.  Hard- 
ly a  writer  of  romance  is  to  be 
named,  who  does  not  mix  ba£RK»- 
ery  vrith  gravity,  the  majestidi  Ian* 
guage  of  scripture  with  the  actions 
of  heipes,  and  miserable  ribaldry 
with  dignified  narration.  Among 
the  early  pieces  of  ^ny  excetience 
the  Italians  have  cclqbrajted  the 
Morgante  Maggiore  Af  ^Migi  Pulr 
ci,  which  stiU  con^n^ues  by  the 
beauty  of  its  tales,  a^da  Florentine 
dialect,  to  wioixc  ithe  applause  (d 
its  readers.  AH  the  i^ules  of  crid- 
cism  however  ax^  disregarded  by 
^he  autlvQr,  and  taste  a^d  judgment 
^eem  to  have  been  unknown  to 
him  ;  yet  the  work  was  admired 
by  PoUtian,  Fidnos,  and  other  or- 
naments of  the  court  of  Jjorenzo 
ile  Medici ;  and  the  authors  of  the 
Dictionary  ^e  la  Crusca  have  rankr 
ed  it  among  the  classiqd  Mnitings 
of  Italy. 

In  the  year  1496  Boiardo,  count 
of  Scandiano,  published  his  Orlan? 
do  Inamorato.  Its  subject  b  the 
love  of  Orlando,  the  hero  c^  chiv- 
alry, fyr  Angelica,  the  daughter  of 
Galaphrop,  king  of  Cathay.  His 
ad  ventures  and  achievements  in  her 
favour,  form  the  principal  part  of 
the  work,  but  the  actions  and  e^ 
rantry  of  the  Paladins  and  Sara- 
cen Imights  are  omtinually  inter- 
spersed. The  poem  conast3  of 
seventy-nine  cantos,  which  are  di- 
vided into  three  books.  The  whole 
work  is  a  vast,  imfinished,  and  un- 
equal production,  comprising  a  narr 
ration  of  three  great  epick  actions ; 
the  invasion  of  France  by  Gi^idaa? 


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THS  SNC  RANTED  X.AKS. 


411 


BO,  to  obtain  Bayardo,   Rinaldo's 
horsey  and  Durindana,  Orlando'fi 
sword ;  the  siege  of  Albracca,  by 
Agricaiit  king  of  Taitary,  and  oth* 
er  enemies  of  Galaphron  and  Anr 
gelica ;  and  the  invasion  of  France 
by  Agrimant)  emperour  of  Afnca, 
and  Marsillas,  king  of  Spain.  This 
long  woriL  evidenced  great  powers 
of  inventioHyeven  superiour  to  what 
the  divine  Ariosto  afterwards  dis- 
played in  the    Orlando  Furioso. 
Indeed  such  was  his  excellence, 
that  he  has  received  the  dignified 
praise  t)f  the  great  Cervantes  ;  for 
the  carions  reader  may  recollect, 
that  when  the  curate  and  the  bar- 
ber  were  examining  the  books  in 
the  library  of  Don  Quixote,  the 
fi>nner  proposed    to  fighten  the 
panishment   of  the   ronuince   of 
Montalvan,  and  the  lies  of  Turpin, 
expressly  because  ^  they  contain 
part  of  the  invention  of  the  re- 
nowned poet  Matteo  Boiardo." 
.  The  imagination  of  Boiardo  was 
proEM^rbttt  the.  style  was  harsh 
and  barbarous,  and  the  versifica- 
tion uncouth)  constrained,  and  in- 
harmonious.    Yet  it  was  read  and 
admired  by  the  Italians  for  the  va- 
riety of  incid^it  and  the  liveliness 
of  manner,  which  characterised  it. 
Boiardo's  successors  therefi>re  en- 
deavoured to  improve  it  by  finish- 
ing the  work,  and  by  addbg  the 
charms  of  grace  and  melody  to 
the  attractions  of  invention    and 
]deasing  narrative.    Agostino  con- 
tinued it  in  three  books,  which  were 
Bot  however  favourably  received. 
Dominichi,  a  cotemporary  of  Ber- 
Bi,  made  Aome  attempts  to  give  pu- 
rity of  language  to  it,  but  which 
were  soon  forgotten  in  the  splen- 
dour which  succeeded  ;   for  about 
kalf  a  century  after  the  death  of 
Boiardo,  appeared  the  Rifiicimento 
of  the  Orlando  Inamorato  by  Fran- 
ceaco  Berhi.     This  so  greatly  im- 
pcaved  the  original,  that  Boiardo's 


work  is  almost  unknown.  The 
new  creator  or  modeller  gave  swee^ 
ness  of  versification  to  the  luxuri- 
ant hncy  of  the  old  poem.  He  en- 
tirely recast  the  work.  He  insert'* 
edcomick  sentiments  and  allusions; 
he  interspersed  some  stanzas  by. 
himself ;  and  the  cames  received 
from  him  varioos  changes  in  the 
beginnu^,  which  were  introduced 
by  some  natural  moral  reflections. 
Yet  the  corrections  and  additions 
of  Bemi  did  not  always  add  to  the 
value  of  the  original ;  and  by  one 
of  his  stanzas  in  particular,  quoted 
by  Hoole,  tl^  reputation  of  Ariosta 
suffered  in  the  opinion  of  father 
Bou  hours, who  attributed  to  Ariosto 
a  ridiculous  absurdity,  which  is  on- 
ly to  be  found  in  the  poetry  of  Ber- 
ni,  added  to  the  work  of  Boiardo. 

The  Orlando  Inamorato  has  been 
translated  into  French  paraphrastic 
prose  by  Le  Sage,  but  it  has  never 
been  incorporated  into  the  English 
language.  On  this  subject  Hoole. 
thus  speaks  in  the  preface  to  the 
translation  of  Orlando  Furio^Oi 
<<  Ii^ed,  though  it  is  a  work  high* 
ly  entertaining  in  Bemi's  dress,  it 
would  scarcely  adu^it  of  a  transla- 
tion into  English  verse,  the  narra- 
tive descending  to  such  fofniliar 
images  and  expi*easions,  as  wouM 
by  no  means  suit  the  genius  of  our 
language  and  poetry."  On  this 
head,  Hpole  deserves  to  be  con- 
sidered with  attention  ;  he  had 
read  with  care  the  Italian  e^ck 
poets,  and  in  his  translation  of  Ari- 
osto and  Tasso,  which  have  beea 
very  favourably  received  by  the 
publick,  he  has  exhibited  gre«t 
maturity  of  judgment  and  elegance 
of  taste.  Yet  we  knpw  not,  that 
the  authoiity  of  Hoole  is  decisive  ^ 
if  the  images  in  Berni  are  &mii^ 
they  might  possibly  be  modelled 
into  elegance  ;  if  the  exprestaona 
are  low,  they  migbt  easily  be  ele- 
vated into  dignity.     H^ole  mij^ht 


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4t» 


TftS  CKtffASHttt  lAXX. 


have  beetf  dbterrtd  from  transla* 
tioQ,  because  he  had  done  his  daty 
and  was  fatigued  with  the  V\%k ; 
otli6r  scholars  may  have  been 
frightened  from  the  undertakings 
because  it  must  have  been  tedious, 
dr  because  they  did  not  choose  t6iatlr 
where  even  success  might  not  hsre 
^een  rewarded.  The  author  of  the 
Work  before  us  also*  gives  it  ds  his 
opinion,  that  the  whole  work  is  not 
Msceptible  of  aH  English  dress,  but 
thinks  that  selections  might  be 
Aide  suitable  for  translation  and 
l9ie  publick  taste.  It  is  certainly 
true,  that  the  Orlando  Inamorato 
has  no  pretensions  to  critical  uni- 
ly*  and  therefore  the  parts  are  not 
necessarily  dependent  on  each  o- 
ther  ;  but  the  stories  and  adTcn- 
tures  may  have  such  a  connection 
Hy  reference  and  alkisiotf,  that  it 
teight  be  dUIicult  to  find  a  single 
MeyWhich  would  not  rc(|Uire  much 
previous  knowledge  to  make  it 
^mpletely  intelligible.  In  such 
Aaaes  lat^  notes  w6ul^  be  necessa^ 
fy,  and  they  would  sometimes  by 
their  tediousness  invite  to  sleep, 
tod  by  their  obscurity  might  often 
demand  new  explanation.  If  the 
translator  should  undertake  to  a- 
bridge,  he  must  i%ly  on  his  own 
judgment  for  the  discriminating 
powers,  and  how  is  the  reader  to 
know,  that  in  these  qualities  he  is 
superiour  to  the  original  ?  In  an 
abridgement  we  are  always  sure 
fhat  what  we  find  is  also  in  the 
original,  but  we  are  t)Ot  sure  that 
Iher^  is  not  something  in  the  orig- 
inal Kliich  ought  to  be  found  in  the 
abridgement.  Oui' author  also  part- 
ly says  wkh  HOole,  that  « the  ima- 
^es  are  often  low  and  dbgusting, 
the  style  frequently  mean  and  vul- 
var, and  that  the  retorts  of  the  he- 
roes app^r  to  partake  tnore  of  the 
low  buffoonery  and  coarse  invec* 
tivef  of  Lazzaroni,  tharti  the  courtly 
ityie  of  chivalry ." .  Xhase  charges 


we  have  endeavoured  to  pvrf  bt-^ 
fore,  witli  regard  to  translatkai. 
Bmardo  cumot  be  defended,  but  faia 
translator  need  not  propagate  his 
offences  against  taste  by  bcang 
nicely  metaphrasiical.  Wlwt  is 
licantious,  he  may  gftarrafige  or 
avoid  'f  what  ia  abaurci,fae  need  ttot 
translaCe ;  what  is  disgusting^  be 
may  render  indifferent  by  niceness 
of  expression,  or  palatable  by  easy 
altenosoD.  If  lus  changes  are 
great,  he  should  mention  them  in 
a  short  note  ;  if  his  auppreaaioQs 
are  important,  he  should  express 
his  reoaoas  with  firnmesa  and  de- 
licacy. Upon  the  whole,  we  are 
incUned  to  believe  that  a  complete 
traoslatioA  of  the  Orlando  Inamo- 
rato would  be  desirable  on  ita  own 
account  'r  and  we  are  confirmed  in 
the  opinion,  because  it  is  necessary 
for  the  perfect  ^comprehension  of 
th«  tales  in  Orlando  Furioso.  No 
translation  has  appeared  in  Great- 
Britain,  and  we  should  be  |»rood, 
if  the  American  iiationt  in  gftti^ 
tude  for  the  pleasure  it  has  receiv- 
ed from  Hoole,  should  present  to 
the  English  a  suitable  and  complete 
translation  of  an  Italian  poet,  who 
has  furnished  similes  to  MihoOp 
and  materials  to  AriostQ. 

The  publication  under  review  is 
called  ^aiie  Enchanted  Lake,"  &  is 
translated  from  the  2d  book  of  the 
Orlan<k>  Inamorato  of  BemL  In 
the  preface  a  short  account  is  givea 
of  the  Italian  author  and  his  great 
work.  We  proceed  to  give  an 
analysis  of  the  story  of  the  prodac^ 
tion  before  us.  Previously,  bow- 
ever,  We  wish  to  ciiticise  the  au- 
thor's opiiiion  on  the  derivation 
of  the  word  "  burlesque,"  as  ea-* 
pressed  in  a  note  in  the  preftare. 

Our  author  says,  that  the  £ag« 
lish  word,  burlesque,  derives  its 
appellation  from  Betni,  who  first 
employed  and  peifected  it,  it  being 
•riginally  called   MnwcuMf.  and 


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tins  KUCfiANtBD  LjmM. 


43S« 


by  -  edrrtlptlott  Burkican^  whence 
Sarkspte  in  Englbht  We  believe 
ths^t  the  author  b  incorrect,  for 
Surhtfue  is  regulariy  from  burUaco 
in  Italian,  and  by  Johnson  is  deri^ 
ved  from  buriare^  to  joke,  and  has 
resdly  forits  root  W/a^  a^oke.*-^ 
Beme9co  is  indeed  a  species  of 
Surhseoy  but  only  a  species,  which 
derives  its  name  from^B^rw  ;  it  is 
not  so  boarse  in  its  style,  as  ordi- 
nary burlesque,  but  is  more  chas- 
tened, or,  as  the  French  say,  soigne. 
These  Italian  words^  ending  in  euo^ 
agteeably  to  the  idiom  of  the  lan- 
guage signify  after  the  manner  qf : 
thus  futioreBco  is,  after  the  manner 
of  a  painter  ;  grofesco^  after  the 
manner^ofa  grotto  ;  bemeKQyohtt 
the- manner  of  Bevni ;  and  Imrieacoy 
after  the  manner  of  a  joke.  If 
any  authority  were  wanting  to 
show  the  incorrectness  of  the  aU'* 
tbor's  opinion  on  this  etymological 
curiosity,'  it  might  be  derived  from 
BaiUet,  who  quotes  Mr.  Naudet  as 
skying,  *  l^Oriando  de  Beml  recut 

*  I'approbation  Sc  les  applaudissi- 

*  mens  de  ceux  du  Pay&,  de  sorte 

*  qu'on  a  cru  lui  faire  honneur  de 
^  donner  son  nom  a  mie  dcs  es- 

*  pcces  du  genre  Burlesque,  qui  est 
(  en  usage  ch^z  les  Italieus,  qu'on 

*  appelle  Bemiesque  i  cause  de  Iqi.' 
.   The  story  of  the  work  is  as  ibU 

lows  :  Orlando,  having  destroyed 
the  enchanted  g^irdens  of  Falerina, 
^ueen  of  Orgagna,  and  killed  or 
enchained  the  monsters,  which 
guiarded  it,  proceeds  with  Falerina 
to  release  the  prisoners,  who  had 
been  confined  in  some  of  her  dis- 
tant dungeonSi  During  this  jour- 
ney they  came  to  a  bridge,  built 
6ver  a  deep,  dark  lake.  On  a  mea- 
dow' was  built  a  large,  strong  tow- 
^r,  which  ^as  the  residence  of  a 
bold,  murderous  robber,  Arridano. 
He  was  ithe  terrible  agent  of  the 
&iry  Morgana,  and  used  to  seize 
im^  illustiioiis  persons  who  were 
VoL  III.  No.  &     30 


pawnng  that  way,  strip,  them  of 
their  armour,  and  throw  them  into 
the  lake,  and  af^er  sinking,  to  the 
bottom  they  became  prisoners  to 
Morgana.  Falerina  entreated  Or- 
lando not  to  Encounter  Arridano, 
wIAj  wore  enchanted  armour,  and 
was  assisted  by  the  powerful  fairy 
Morgana.  Orlando,  moved  by  her 
pravers  and  tears,  hesitated  to  pro- 
ceed, till  he  observed  hanging  on 
a  cypress  the  arms  of  the  renoMOi- 
ed  Rinaldo,  who  had  been  made  a 
prisoner  by  the  robber.  He  im- 
mediately advanced  with  impetu- 
osity to  the  meadow.  Falerina 
deserts  him.  He  fights  a  moct 
violent  battle  with  Arridano,  who 
at  length  seizes  Orlando,  and 
plunges  with  him  into  the  lake. 
They  arrive  at  the  bottom  of  tho 
lake,  where  was  a  most  beautifiil 
plain,  and  Arridano,  attempting 
here  to  strip  Orlando  of  his  ar- 
mour, whom  he  thought  complete- 
ly conquered,  was  compelled  to 
renew  the  battle,  and  is  finally  kil- 
led, after  a  long  and  terrible  en- 
counter. 

Orlando,  after  a  strange  and  ad- 
venturous journey  through  enchan- 
ted ground,  came  to  a  small  bridge, 
beyond  which  extended  a  plain,  en- 
riched with  all  the  treasures  of 
Morgana.  He  endeavoured  in  vain 
to  pass  the  bridge  several  times, 
and  is  prevented  by  its  alternate 
destruction  and  renewal  by  its 
guardian  figure  in  iron  armour. 
Orlando  finally  sv/ims  to  the  other 
aide,  and  after  eomc  inttresting  ad- 
ventures proceeds  towards  thepik- 
on,  where  Morgana  had  confined 
Dudon,  Rinaldo,  Brandimarte,  Sec. 
and  at  length  comes  near  a  foun- 
tain } 

there  on  U»e  hwbage  green  eicicndcd  liy, 
WrtppMinMltcluwber*ifoldi  th'encha&tingF*f . 

Beyond  a  chrystal  mouiid,  Orlan- 
do observjes  his  captive  filendn, 
wliom  he  canQot  approach ;  and  is 


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.434 


TlfE   ENCHANTED    LAKE. 


advised  by  a  damsel  to  endeavour 
to  obtain  from  Morgana  the  key 
of  the  gatC)  which  alone  admits  an 
entrance  into  the  enchanted  gar- 
den.    Orlando  follows  the  advice, 
and  approaches  the  fairy,  who  flies 
fi-om  the  place,  and  Orlando  pur- 
sues.    A  violent  storm  arises,  but 
the  hero  continues  the  pursuit.  He 
is  met  by  the  hag  Repentance,  who 
was  decreed  by  fate  to  be  his  cbm- 
panion  and  tormentor ;  and  while 
he  flies  after  tne  fairy,  this  wild, 
haggard  being  follows  and  scourges 
him  with  a  whip.   Orlando,  though 
in  violent  anger,  is  obliged  to  sub- 
mit.    He  continues  to  chase  Mor- 
gana, and  at  length  catches  and 
holds  her  by  a  golden  lock  of  hair, 
and  this  was  the  signal  of  success. 
After  some  advice  from  the  hag, 
who  then  leaves  him,  and  a  request 
from  tlie  fairy,  he  obtains  the  key 
of  the  prison  garden r  and  hastens 
to  release   tlie  knights.      After  a 
long  journey   through  the  roads 
and  scenes  of  enchantment,  the 
captives,  having  obtained  their  ar- 
mour, pui'oucd  their  way  in  differ- 
ent directions^ 

After  the  long  account  we  have 
given  of  the  whole  poem  of  Boi- 
ardo,  and  the  analysis  of  the  epi- 
sode under  review,  we  have  hardly 
room  for  minute  criticism.  The 
poetry  only  extends  to  forty 
pagesy  and  twenty-seven  pages,  in 
fimxilL  print,  are  occupied  in  notes 
and  additional  notes,  except  the 
two  last,  which .  contain  a  small 
glossary.  This  most  extraordi- 
nary fact  is  decisive  evidence  of 
the  difficulty  we  have  before  sta- 
ted, with  regard  to  translations  of 
selections.  It  covers  this  plan  with 
insuperable  difficulties,  and  seems 
fully  to  show  the  necessity  of  a 
translation,  where  the  parts  may  be 
rendered  intelligible  by  easy  re- 
ference to  other  passages  after  the 
manner  of  Hoole.     Of  the  versifi- 


cation it  is  not  easy  to  give  the  gc»' 
eral  character.  Some  of  the  Unea^ 
are  remarkably  Ceeble  and  prosuck, 
others  have  strength  and  dignity. 
The  two  following,  in  page  5,  arc 
weakly  turned  and  twisted  : 

For  Uteeny  heaxt  with  pity  gtowi  afaKcre, 
Tbou  Idt  alone  a  Umkl  woman  here. 

And  what  shall  we  say  to  this  line  t 

Lov*d  cousin  mine !  from  Paradke  O  kear  ! 

The  speech  of  the  robber  Arri- 
dano,  in  p.  11,  is  probably  mean 
enough  in  the  original,  yet  it  can- 
not easily  be  lower  than  the  fol- 
lowing : 

He  cried,  « Thy  toQ  U  here  but  labour  rain. 
Such  blows  might  serve  to  frighten  flics  away. 
But  for  thk  one  a  hundred  I«U  rcfiay.* 

Our  author  is  sometimes  as 
much  at  a  loss  for  chiming  words, 
as  a  ringer  would  be  for  a  jingle, 
who  had  only  two  bells  and  a  smalf 
one  in  his  steeple  ;  thus,  pages  14, 
16,  rr,  18,21  : 

Amidst  th'  innomeroni  gems  a  woiid*ioas  stooe 
Far  o'er  the  rest  in  dazzling  lustre  shone. 

Fonn*d  all  of  gold,  and  o*er  them  thickly  strowa 
Pearb,  rubies,  diamonds,  intemdngled  thoac 

From  whose  proud  top  a  bright  transhiceat  stdoe. 
A  carbuncle  of  wond^rous  beauty  shooc. 

At  length  to  thought  recurr'd  the  predons  stone. 
That  ince  enldndled  fire  bright-blaziog  shoae. 

And  form*d  a  roirrour  of  transparent  stone 
From  whence  the  garden  bright  icfleotedibeoe. 

Some  of  the  rhymes  are  ex- 
tremely defective.  Since  die  days 
of  Pope  the  ear  has  become  so  fa- 
miliar to  easy  harmonious  versifi- 
cation, that  what  was  once  offered 
as  a  luxury  is  now  demanded  as  a 
right ;  as  the  tea  of  China,  which 
was  once  a  curiosity,  is  now  be- 
come a  necessary  of  life  ;  ye^  in 
this  poem  the  ear  Is  annoyed  with 
"toil"  rhyming  with  "mile**  ; 
"  sped  "  is  forced  to  associate  with 
«  freed,"  and  "  are "  stubbornly 
yokes  with  "  prefer."  Surely  these 
broken  bells,  thus  janglingi  might 


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THE   ENCHANTED   LAKE. 


435 


have  been  exchanged  for  the  plea- 
sant symphony,  which  Cowper 
heard  undulating  from  the  village. 
We  have  seldom  found  in  any 
poetry  two  lines  more  harsh  and 
heavy  than  the  following.  The 
author  was  not  contented  with  rug- 
gedness  of  alliteration,  but  in  the 
last  Tcrse  has  added  the  "  slow 
length"  of  a  useless  unbending  A- 
lexandrine  : 

Whose  bought  at  once  the  bunting  bud  unfold. 
Gleam  gay  with  flowert  and  glow  with  vegetable 
gold. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  work 
we  meet  with  two  lines,  which  have 
not  more  dignity  and  poetry,  than 
the  celebrated  prose  line  of  ten 
syllables  in  Boswell's  Johnson  : 
«  He  laid  hli  luUfe  and  £ark  acro«  hii  pUte.* 

The  lines  are  these,  flat,  meany 
and  roonosyllabick : 

In  him  is  all  my  bliss,  for  him  I  sue, 

O  take  him  not,  or  take  me  with  Iflm  to*. 

We  have  pointed  out  a  sufficien- 
cy of  faults  to  gratify  the  acrimony 
of  the  critick,  and  more  than  a  suf- 
ficiency for  the  kind  friends  of  the 
author  ;  yet  we  might  mention  o- 
thers,  which  deserve  severe  repre- 
hension ;  but  though  the  reviewer 
might  say  with  Tacitus,  **  Mihi 
Othoy  Galba,  Vitellius,  nee  beneii- 
cio  nee  injuria  cogniti,"  yet  we 
hear  that  the  author,  Mr.  Alsop,  is 
beloved  and  esteemed  by  his  nu- 
merous friends,  who  know  him 
well,  which  is  high  praise  <<  as  the 
•world  goes" ;  and  we  readily  ac- 
knowledge that  his  ambition  is  lau- 
dable, and  his  undertaking  arduous 
and  uncommon.  We  are  willing 
to  bestow  every  commendation  on 
great  endeavours  and  suitable  ex- 
ertions, and  we  therefore  with  plea- 
sure assure  our  readers,  that  the 
following  extract  is  not  the  only 
one,  which  combines  ease  and 
strength,  variety  andmusick.    It 


describes  the  battle  between  Orlan- 
do and  Arridano  : 

fie  said,  and  IiutIM  do  high  the  ponderous 
mace. 
Whose  force  had  ihook  a  mountain  to  its  base  ; 
Aside  Orlando  leapM-^with  fruitless  aim, 
la  thunder  driven,  the  mace  descending  came. 
Deep  groan*d  tlie  solid  earth  beneath  the  stroke. 
The  mountain  echo'd  and  the  meadow  shook. 
Now  *twixt  the  twain  a  fiercer  strife  arose. 
With  deadlier  ire  Inflam'd  the  battle  glows. 
This  cloth*d  in  strength  beyond  all  human  might, 
In  valour  that  cxcell'd  and  skill  in  fight : 
The  giant  wields  his  mace,  with  thundering  souod« 
Thick,  heavy, /all  the  erring  blows  around  : 
In  vala  he  strikes,  for  stQl  his  wary  foe 
With  dext'rous  speed  eludes  the  coming  blow. 
Now  foins,  now  feints,  now  shifts  his  ground,  and 

tries 
Each  varied  straUgem  that  sUU  supplies. 
Far  else  the  robber  fares— his  streaming  blood 
From  three  deep  wounds  efiuseda  crimson  flood  $ 
At  length  the  knight  the  glad  advantage  spy'd. 
And  drove  hb  falchion  throogh  the  caitiff's  sUe, 
Whose  life-blood  issuing  with  the  fleeting  breath. 
Writhing  he  fell,  extended  pale  in  death. 

This  is  vigorous  and  poetical, 
and  we  would  not  make  a  single 
deduction  from  the  praise,  did  not 
our  duty  compel  us  to  observe,that 
the  ti'anslation  of  a  battle  between 
heroes  cannot  now  deserve  the 
highest  commendation .  The  com- 
bats in  Homer,  Tasso,  and  Ariosto 
have  been  so  excellently  versified 
by  Pope  and  Hoole,  that  their  suc- 
cessors have  little  more  to  do,  than 
to  combine  the  various  beauties  of 
their  words  and  sentences.  We 
say  nothing  of  Virgil,  for  though 
Drj'den  has  injected  into  his  ver- 
sion all  the  vigour,  of  which  the  bat- 
tles in  the  .£neid  were  susceptible, 
yet  in  this  part  of  epick  grandeur, 
the  Roman  bard  is  evidently  inferi- 
our  to  theGrecian  and  Italian  poets. 

We  beg  leave  to  entertain  our 
readers  vnth  one  more  extract, 
which  displays  a  storm,  and  to  re- 
mark generally,  that  Mr.  Alsop  has 
succeeded  better  in  translating  pas* 
sages,  descriptive  of  the  exertion 
of  great  power,  than  those,  which 
paint  the  beauties  of  scenery  and 
person  : 


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iS6^ 


£S01fO»A. 


AiUi  flow  dailc  gfe#  Uie  ftr-M  morky  doDdi, 
•tin  tlilck*takig  faft,  the  fun  Ui  radbnce  fliroikte. 
The  wind  wild  rifet,  load  the  tempeft  roan, 
Min  ttls'd  wbh  ton4l«iia)9^  the  defcrt  pam. 
Dread  barftt  the  thaader,   blue  the   lightning 

gleams. 
Wide  flaibet  roand,  or  darti  hi  arrowy  ftreamt } 
Thkkfpreada  themlft  e^  monntaln  and  o*er 

pUhi, 
And  heaven  appean  dMbtfM  u  floods  of  ndn. 
8011  grows  the  tempeft— fled  the  Ught  of  day, 
A^Qpe  the  Uglitning  lends  iu  lurid  ray. 
Rent  by  the  wind  the  trees  oproQted.  lle» . 
The  beafts  affrighted  from  their  coverts  fly, 
And  foxes,  doves,  the  ferpenfs  venom  *d  brood, 
fllahi  by  the  Aorm  lie  fcatter*d  o'er  the  wood. 

We  have  before  acknowledjjed, 
that  we'  have  not  been  able  to  pro* 
c^^e  the  work  of  fioiardo  or  Berni.. 
Of  course  it  is  utterly  impossible 
for  us  to  say  a  word  on  the  fidelity 
of  the  translation.  The  poem  be- 
fore us  is  sufficiently  interesting  to 
be  read  with  pleasure^  though  the 
poetry  might  easily  have  possessed 
more  variety  of  rhyme  and  less 
feebleness  of  construction.  If  the 
author  has  time,  he  may  gain  the 
talents  for  translation,  because  dili- 
gence and  careful  examination  and 
rigid  correction  may  easily  do  away 
the  objections  we  have  stated.  The 
specimen  before  us  is  hardly  suffi-r 
cient  to  eicact  our  opinion,  as  to  the 
recommending  of  Berni  to  Mr.  Al- 
sop  for  a  complete  translation.  If 
he  wishes  to  rank  with  translators, 
like  Pope,  Hoole  and  Sotheby,  he 
must  learn  16  be  vigorous  by  years 
of  correction,  and  harmonious  by 
attentive  cultivation  and  studious 
devotion  to  the  mastei"^  of  song. 
If  he  does  not  pant  for^such  high 
praise,  he  may  still  gain  commen- 
dation ;♦  but  this  ought  never  to 
satisfy  the  aspirations  of  literary 
ambition  ;  and  Mr.  Alsop  should 
eontemplate  with  regret,  but  with- 
out featful  anticipation,  the  decay- 
ih^  ^lorfj  which  now  feebly  illu- 
mmatjes  the  Tasso  of  Fairfax  aa4 
the  Ariosto  of  Harrington.  -^  .1 ; 


AUT.  40. 
Leonora^  a  novels  in  tw9  v^ktmei* 
By  AfU»  Edgworth,    Londfrn^^^, 
New-Y<H>k^— Re-printed  by   I. 
Riley  &  Co.     1806. 

When  this  novel  was  first  an* 
nounced  to  us^  we  fancied,  from  its 
name,  it  came  to  swell  the  cata* 
logue  of  those  so  continually  fiow- 
i^Sr  o  Jlurmmbus  atulHti^  into  the 
o^eanum  obttvUntU  ^  which  have 
sometimes  come  so  thick  and  fast» 
as  to  threaten  taste  and  her  tem- 
ples with  a  deluge  ; .  and  which  ac- 
tually have  polluted  a  few  of  her 
fountains,  and  thrown  down  some 
monuments  in  their  course.  But 
we  arc  now  happy  to  confess  our- 
selves ndstaken  ;  and  if  Leonora 
does  not  exhibit  great  originality 
of  thought  and  expression)  inge- 
nuity of  invention^  or  interesting 
incident,  to  recomihend  her,  she 
possesses  many  sterling  qualities, 
which  elevate  her  very  consider- 
ably above  mediocrity.  The  gen- 
eral style  of  this  novel  is  harmoU'^ 
ious  and  pleasing  ;  and  the  collo- 
cation much  purer,than  we  usually 
find  in  female  Mrritlngs.  Consid* 
ering  it  is  written  in  a  series  of  let- 
ters from  different  characters,there 
is  too  great  a  monotony  of  manner, 
and  similarity  of  diction.  There 
are  several  other  errors  ;  but  thej^ 
are  trivial,  and  mostly  in  the 
manner  ;  the  matter  is  unexcep- 
tionable. But  these  may  be  par- 
doned in  the  freedom  and  fiimil- 
iarity  of"  Letters." 

The  object  of  the  writer,  in  this 
publication,  is  twofold.  The  prin- 
cipal characters  arc  Lady  Leonora 
an.l  Lady  Olivia.  Lady  Leonora 
is  represented  as  an  English  wifty 
ki  the  most  amiable  and  engaging 
point  of  view  ;  endowed  with  beau- 
ty, wittout:  being  txmacious  of  it ; 
sensibility,  which  she  conceals  ; 
having  an  implicit  confidence  in 


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43f 


the  conjugal  fidelity  of  her  hus* 
band,  and  the  strongest  attachment 
to  his  interest  and  honour;  pos* 
sessing  every  imaginable  excel- 
lence and  virtue^  which  can  secure 
domestick  felicity,  but  at  the  same 
time  a  geaerosity  and  credulityi 
which  occasion  all  her  woes.  La* 
dy  Olivia  had  been  an  English  wo- 
man, early  in  the.  friendship  of 
Leonora.  She  had  been  married  ; 
but  finding,  soon  alter  her  nuptiaUh 
that  <<  her  husband's  heart  was  not 
in  unison  with  her  own,"  she  left 
him  ;^-and  upon  her  arrival  at 
Paris,  where  she  resided  some 
years,  she  unfortunately  became 
enamoured  of  another  man  ;  but 
it  being  impossible  to  control  the 
Influence  of  French  *'  love,"  "  plii- 
lOsophy,"  and  «  metaphjrsicks," 
which  assailed  her  at  once,  she 
submitted,  though  «  with  great  re- 
luctance.'* Compelled  some  time 
after  her  initiation  to  return  to 
England,  she  sues  to  Leonora,  on 
the  strength  of  youthful  friend-^ 
ship,  for  her  countenance  and  pro- 
tection against  the  voice  of  calum- 
ny, which  had  been  raised  against 
her  in  her  absence  ;  touched  with 
the  narration  of  her  sorrows,  Leo* 
nora  vindicates  her  character,  and 
feceives  her  into  her  dwelling. 
Olivia,  in  return,  abuses  her  con-^ 
fidence,  violates  her  friendship, 
and  seduces  her  husband,  while  at 
the  same  time  she  is  intriguing 
with  her  ci-devant  paramour,  with 
whom  she  considers  hersdf  in  a 
suspended  connexion.  'She  writes 
to  her  friend  at  Paris,  madame  de , 
P-»— S  who  is  also  a  philosopher 
and  a  metaphysician,  concerning 
her  new  "  arrangement"  with  the 
husband  of  her  Iriend  in. England* 
She  expresses  some  reluetanoe  on 
the  score  of «  gratitude,"  &c.  which 
tfeems  so  ridiculous  to  madame  ^ 
P  ,  that  she  exclaims  in  her, 
«ply  : 


Who  can  oontffDl  Che  put|on9<ir  the 
winds  ?  After  all,  l*erreur  d*un  moment 
\a  not  irretrievable.  You  reproach 
yourself  too  bitterly,  my  sweet  friend* 
for  your  involuntary  injustice  to  Leono- 
ra. Assuredly  it  could  not  be  your  ifi- 
tention  to  sacrifice  your  repose  to  Mr. 
L.  {  you  loved  him  against  your  will ; 
and  you  know  it  is  hf  Sie  intention  that 
we  must  ju<^^  of  actions  ;  the  positive 
harm  done  to  the  world  in  general  is  in 
all  cases  the  only  just  measure  of  crim- 
inality. Now  what  harm  is  dont  to  th» 
universe,  and  what  injury  tan  accrue 
to  any  individual,  provided  you  keep 
your  own  counsel  ?  As  Hng  as  your 
friend  it  deceived,  she  is  happy ;  it 
therefore  becomes  your  duty,  your  \'ir- 
tue,  to  dissemble.  I  am  no  great  casu- 
ist, but  »U  this  appears  to  me  self-evi^ 
dent ;  and  these  I  always  thought  were 
yo\ir  principles  of  philosophy.  I  have 
drawn  out  my  whole  store  of  metaphy- 
•icki  fi)r  your  advice.  I  flatter  myself 
I  have  set  your  poor  distracted  head  to 
rights.  One  word  more,  for  I  like  to 
go  to  the  bottom  of  a  subject,  when  I 
can  do  it  in  two  mimites.  Virtue  is  de- 
sirable because  it  makes  us  happy ;  con- 
^uently  to  make  ourselves  happy  is  to 
be  truly  virtuous, 

This  illuipinated  reasoning  had 
the  desired  effect,  and  Olivia  ac- 
knowledges herself  convinced  of 
her  ridiculous  scrupulosity  and  in- 
sensible relapse  into  the  English' 
way  of  thinking,  in  her  next  let- 
ter: 

Your  truty  philosophical  letter,  my 
infinitely  various  Gabrielle,  infu^d  a 
portion  of  its  charminj^  spirit  into  my, 
soul.  My  mind  was  fortified  and  ele- 
vated by  your  eloquence.  Who  could 
tiiink  that  a  woman  of  yotr  lively  ge« 
nioa  could  be  to  profi)und  ?  and  -^^ 
could  expect  firom  a  woman,  who  hat 
passed  her  life  in  the  worid,  such  origi- 
nal and  deep  reflections  ?  You  see  you 
were  mistaken,  when  you  thought  you 
had  no  genius  fbr  philosophical  subjects  J 
•    ••••••«• 

The^ssence  of  truth  cannot  be  affect, 
ed  by  external  circumstances.  Now 
the  proper  application  of  metaphysicks 
frees  the  mind  from  vul^  prejudices, 
and  dissipates  the  baby  terronrs  of  a« 
M-educated  conscience.  To  faU  in  lov^ 
witiha  mam^man^  and  the  husband 


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438 


sullivam's  lectukes. 


of  your  intiinite  friend  !  how  dreadful 
this  sounds  to  some  ears  !  Even  mine 
were  startled  at  first,  till  I  called  rea- 
son to  my  assistance.  Then  I  had  an- 
other difficulty  to  combat..to  own,  and 
own  unmasked,  a  passion  to  the  object 
of  it,  would  shock  the  delicacy  of  those 
who  are  governed  by  common  forms, 
and  who  are  slaves  to  vulgar  prejudices  ; 
but  a  little  philosophy  liberates  our  sex 
frpm  the  tyranny  of  custom,  teaches  us 
to  disdain  hypocrisy,  and  glory  in  the 
simplicity  of  truth. 

Adieu,  dear  and  amiable  Gabrielle. 
These  things  are  managed  better  in 
France.  Olivia. 

Upon  OliTia's  imagining  her 
conquest  complete,  she  determines 
to  go  with  the  husband  of  Leonora 
on  his  embassy  to  Russia.  Ma- 
dame dc  P very  well  expres- 
ses her  spirit  of  universal  conquest^ 
upon  receiving  her  friend's  intelli- 
gence of  this.     Letter  LXIX— 

And  now,  my  charming  Olivia,  raise 
your  fine  eyes  as  high  as  ambition  can 
look,  and  you  will  perhaps  discover  my 
grand  object  You  do  not  see  it  yet. — 
JLook  pg.'iin. — Do  you  not  see  the  em^ 
ptrotir  of  Russia  ?  What  would  you 
think  of  him  for  a  lover  ?  if  it  were  only 
for  novelty*.s  sake,  it  would  really  be 
pleasant  to  have  ji  czar  at  one's  feet. 

This  novel  is  well  calculated  to 
second  the  object  of  ridiculing  the 
"  high  sublime  of  deep  absurd," 
In  the  late  fashionable  philosofihisti''^ 
tal^  metaphysical  French  system  of 
morality  ;  in  which  marriage  and 
DIVORCE  "  cross  over  and  go  six 
hands  round,"  while  virtue  and 
vice,  chastity  and  prostitution,  and 
religion  with  atheism  are  seen 
«  waJsing"  together  in  harmonious 
concert.  The  epidemick  fury, 
with  which  this  doctrine  was  given 
and  received f  seems  somewhat  to 
be  abated.  We  do  not  at  present 
hear  so  many  declairaers  about  the 
rights  qf  ivomauy  &c.  8cc.  &c.  Etc. 
Our  boarding-school  misses  have 
become  less  eloquent^  and  more 


obedient.  They  seem  to  have  re- 
nounced the  metafikyaical  notion  of 
perfectabihty^  as  inctmpatibie  with 
the  Jitnes9  and  nature  qf  things  ; 
and  many  of  them  have  even  con- 
descended to  heary  that  the  chtval" 
rous  profession  of  an  aU-subduing 
heroine  is  less  advantageous  and 
honourable,  than  that  of  a  modest 
and  virtuous  woman  ;  and  that  it 
is  better  to  secure  the  affections  of 
one  man  of  sense,  than  to  be  seen 
leading  a  trillion  of  frown-mangled 
fops  in  triumph. 

ART.  41. 

Lectures  on  the  constiiution  and 
laws  of  England  :  with  a  com' 
mentary  on  magna  charta^  and  il- 
lustrations of  many  of  the  £ng' 
lish  statutes.  By  the  late  Francis 
Stoughton  Sullivan^  JLL.D,  royal 
prqfessor  of  common  law  in  the 
university  of  Dublin,  To  which 
authorities  are  addedy  and  a  dis- 
course is  prefixed^  concerning  the 
laws  and  government  qf  England, 
By  Gilbert  Stuart^LL.D.  First 
jimerican  edition^  in  two  volumes 
Bvo.  Portland.  Tho's  B.  Wait 
&  Co.  1805.» 

This  edition  is  printed  with  un- 
usual neatness,  on  good  paper, 
and  with  a  fair  type,  from  the  2d 
English  edition,  4to.  of  1776,  from 
which  we  have  not  observed  any 
essential  variations.  In  justice  to 
the  publisher,  and  on  account  of 
the  merit  of  the  performance,  we 
recommend  it  to  the  perusal  of 
American  students.  It  is  a  post- 
humous publication :  but  whether 


•  This  work  was  first  published  in 
1772.  The  monthly  reviewers  highly 
commend  it,  they  speak  of  it  as  an  in- 
teresting and  very  instructive  perform- 
ance, and  of  the  author  as  a  learned  and 
ingenious  writer  and  a  zealous  fi^end  to 
the  original  freedom  of  the  British  con* 
stitutioQ. 


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SULLIVAN  S  LECTURES. 


439 


from  the  care  of  the  learned  au- 
thor, or  from  the  diligence  of  his 
friend  Dr.  Stuart,  it  is  presented 
to  the  publick  in  a  style  of  perfec- 
tion, which  is  not  frequently  found 
in  works,  which  have  been  publish- 
ed after  the  decease  of  their  au- 
thor. 

The  mode  of  conveying  know- 
ledge by  lectures  has  many  advan- 
tages. It  is  true,  that  the  lecturer 
must  pursue  a  scientifick  method, 
so  that  a  course  of  lectures  may 
comprehend  a  general  survey  of 
his  science  in  its  natural  order  and 
divisions.  But  if  he  has  fancy,  he 
is  permitted  to  indulge  it,  even  on 
a  grave  subject,  in  exciting  and  re- 
lieving the  attention  of  his  pupils. 
His  views  of  subjects  may  be  ge- 
neral, without  an  accumulation  of 
minute  particulars,  and  select,  so  as 
chiefly  to  embrace  the  more  phas- 
ing and  interesting  branches. 
This  admirable  mode  of  instruc- 
tion has  been  adopted  in  all  ages.  It 
bears  some  affinity  to  the  philoso- 
phical conversations  of  the  Gre- 
cian sages,  in  their  academies  and 
literary  retreats.  It  has  been  a- 
dopted  in  the  most  celebrated  uni- 
versities of  Europe  and  America ; 
and  it  is  happily  calculated  to  in- 
spire the  noble  youth  with  a  love  of 
study  and  labour. 

Lectures  are  peculiaily  favour- 
able for  inspiring  a  taste  for  the 
study  of  the  law,  a  science,  which 
interests  all  beings  <<mortal  and  im- 
mortal, natural  and  voluntary,"  and 
which  is  applicable  to  the  infinite- 
ly diversified  occasions  of  life. 
Anciently,  poetry  and  musick  em- 
ployed their  respective  powers  in 
diffusing  the  knowledge  and  in- 
spiring obedience  to  the  laws  ; 
and  indeed,  what  science  is  more 
worthy  of  the  charms  of  eloquence, 
than  that  which  looks  with  an 
equal  eye  on  men  of  all  degrees, 
and  which  is  the^  protector  of  the 


ingenuity  of  the  artisl,  the  learn- 
ing of  the  scholar,  the  fruits  of  hus- 
bandry, and  the  rewards  of  com- 
merce I  Our  system  of  jurispru- 
dence was  formerly  dispersed 
throughout  a  multitude  of  books, 
and  was  to  be  collected  from  dic- 
tionaries and  abridgments,  written 
in  a  barbarous  dialect,  obscured 
with  technical  terms,  and  exhibited 
to  the  eye  in  a  formidable  black 
text,  reminding  us  of  an  ancient 
knight-en^ant  equipped  for  battle. 
But  since  the  publication  of  the 
Lectures  of  Judge  Blackstone, 
which  display,  in  a  style  of  incpm* 
parable  elegance,  and  in  a  most 
just  and  philosophical  arrange- 
ment,the  whole  system  of  English 
security  and  rights,  the  science 
of  the  law  has  become  a  fashion- 
able branch  of  study.  We  shall 
not  now  be  deemed  paradoxical  in 
asserting,  that  the  education  of  no 
gentleman  is  complete,  till  his  mind 
is  enriched  with  a  general  know- 
ledge of  the  laws  of  his  country. 

Some  have  doubted,  whether, 
since  the  publication  of  the  lec- 
tures of  Blackstone,  the  profession 
can  boast  of  so  many  cmment  law- 
yers as  in  formev  times.  Most 
students  are  content  to  glean  from 
his  elegant  pages,  and  are  averse 
to  reading  the  old  books.  But  it 
must  not  be  forgotten,  that  the 
works  of  Lord  Coke  are  the  for- 
est, from  which  this  author  collec- 
ted materials  for  raising  a  struc- 
ture, which  probably,  like  the  Ro- 
man and  Grecian  classicks,will  sur- 
vive the  nation,  whose  glory  it  is 
designed  to  perpetuate.  Students 
should  be  reminded,  that  the  com- 
mentaries of  Blackstone  are  in- 
tended only  as  an  introduction  to 
the  science,  and  that  so  far  as  an 
excellent  map  is  calculated  to  give 
us  a  true  general  idea  of  a  country, 
to  make  us  acquainted  with  its 
boundaries,  and  with  the  relative 


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440 


SUttl van's   L£OTI/Hfe»^ 


connection  of  Us  parts,  they  art 
calculated  to  aid  us  in  our  juridici^ 
researches.  The  lectures  of  Dr. 
Sullivan  are  a  production  of  se- 
condary importance,  but  admirable 
in  their  kind,  and  most  worthy  of 
being  read.  They  ape  addressed 
to  young  gentlemen,  yet  strangers 
to  the  study.  He  varies  from  the 
plan  of  Blackstone  in  commencing 
his  lectures  with  the  law  relative 
to  thinga^  and  justifies  himself  in 
in  this  respect  by  the  opinion  of 
Sir  Matthew  Hale,  that  the  young 
Student  must  begin  his  study  with 
this  branch  of  the  law.  We  do 
not  tliink  it  of  essential  import 
tance,  whether  he  commences  with 
the  law  of  per%on9  or  with  that  of 
thing%.  It  is  certain  however,  that 
neither  can  be  thoroughly  under- 
stood without  some  acquaintance 
with  both. 

As  the  law  of  real  property  in 
England  had  its  origin  in  the  feu- 
dal system,  the  lecturer  gives  an 
hbtoiical  account  of  its  origin  and 
progress,  till  it  became  the  com- 
mon law  of  Europe.  He  des- 
cribes the*various  species  of  feuds, 
their  gradual  revolutions,  and  the 
rise  of  what  are  denominated  the 
modem  EngHth  tenures.  Estates 
In  land  among  the  Germans,  who 
undoubtedly  were  the  authors  of 
the  feudal  system,  were  anciently 
temporary,  annually  granted  at  the 
will  of  the  prince  to  his  compan- 
ions, and  generally  on  condition, 
that  the  tenant  should  perform 
certmn  military  services.  As  that 
people  led  a  wandering  life,  living 
principally  by  hunting  and  pastur- 
age, they  were  in  the  practice  of 
removing  from  place  to  place,  and, 
having  no  local  attachments,  they 
had  no  desire  to  possess  a  permanent 
interest  in  the  soil.  Their  manners 
and  principles  on  the  subject  of 
property  continued  for  some  time 
iifterthey  had  extended  their  con* 


quests  into  the  Romaii  eropire« 
But  as  they  begun  to  depend  hit 
subsistence  on  the  tilldge  of  the 
land,  and  became  sensible  of  the 
comforts  of  a  fixed  habi^on,  they 
likewise  became  anxious  to  enlarge 
their  estates  in  the  soil,  and  from 
holding  them  at  the  will  Of  the 
lord  and  by  sufferance,  the  cus- 
tom arose  of  obtaining  grants  for 
life,  and  afterward,  of  estates  trans^ 
missible  by  descent  and  by  devise. 

The  principal  part  of  the  se- 
cond volume  is  less  interesting  to 
us  than  it  must  be  to  Englishmen, 
as  it  contains  a  minute  but  learned 
account  of  the  various  orders  of 
their  nobility  and  citizens,  the  cwi- 
stitution  of  their  Pariiament,  Uie 
state  of  justice  anoong  them  at 
different  periods  of  their  history, 
the  institution  and  jurisdiction  of 
their  various  domestick  iribuni^ 
and  the  gradual  progress  of  civil 
and  political  liberty,  till  it  became 
settled  and  fortified  under  their 
present  constitution. 
*  The  seven  concluding  lectures 
contain  a  valuable  commentary  on 
magna  charta,  which  has  for  its 
end,  as  expressed  in  the  preamble, 
1.  the  honour  of  Almighty  God; 
2d*  the  safety  of  the  King*s  soule; 
3d.  the  advancement  of  holy 
church  ;  and  4th.  the  amendment 
of  the  realm.  This  statute,  which 
was  passed  9  Hen.  HI.  Is  <<  declara- 
tory of  the  principall  grounds  of 
the  fundaraentall  laws  of  England**. 
It  is  an  amusing  and  useful  exer- 
cise for  the  student  to  compare 
many  of  its  principles  with  the 
declaration  of  rights  prefixed  to 
the  constitution  of  Massachusetts. 
The  best  commentary  on  magna 
charta  is  contained  in  the  second 
institute. 

Should  we  be  asked,  why  we 
recommend  to  the  American  stu- 
dent a  book  on  the  feudal  system^ 
we  anslirer,  that  it  is  imposi^le  to 


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WlCBSl*£tl*S  ASD&im. 


441 


understand  the  ifinglish*  writers, 
through  the  medium  of  whose 
productions  we  must  seek  for  the 
law  and  practice  of  our  own  coun* 
try,  without  a  knowledge  of  this 
system.  The  originals  of  many 
of  the  laws,  customs,  and  modes 
of  administring  justice,  which 
prevail  at  the  present  day,  are  to 
be  traced  to  very  remote  times, 
when  the  feudal  system  was  re- 
garded from  the  extent  of  its  sway, 
as  the  law  of  nations.  Though 
now  encrusted  with  antiquity,  it  is 
yet  a  venerable  subject  of  coniem-* 
plation.  If  it  is  true,  as  Littleton 
and  Coke  assert,  that  no  man  can 
merit  the  honourable  appellation 
of  a  lawyer,  who  is  not  perfectly 
acquainted  with  the  grounds  and 
reasons  of  the  law,  it  is  surely  our 
duty  to  recommend  a  work,  which 
is  well  calculated  to  aid  us  in  the 
acquisition  of  so  valuable  a  portion 
of  professional  education  < 

The  oiigin,  progress,  and  fate 
of  systems,  which  have  had  an  in- 
fluence on  the  happiness  of  mil- 
lions of  human  beings,  surely  is 
no  common  subject  of  curiosity* 
Who  is  content  to  be  ignorant  of 
the  cause  of  light  and  darkness, 
offbeat  and  cold,  and  of  the  grate-* 
ful  revolutions  of  the  seasons  ? 
And  who  will  content  himself, 
like  the  stupid  Egyptians,  to  enjoy 
a  soil,  enriched  by  the  waters  of 
the  Nile,  and  will  not,  in  gratitude 
to  the  God  of  the  river,  trace  him 
thix>ugh  its  windings,  and  worship 
him  at  its  fountain  ? 

ART.  4S. 
jin  anniversary  address  delivered 
before  the  Federal  gentlemen  qf 
Concord  and  its  vicinity^  J%dy  4, 
1806.  ,  By  Daniel  Webster. 
Concord,  N.  H.  Hough,  fiti.  21. 

The  interesting  subject  of!  this 
address  b  the  question,  whether  it 
Vol.  III.  No.  8.      3H 


be  possible  to  preserve  the  present 
form  of  our  government,  the.soli* 
tary  representative  of  republican 
institutions,  which  remains  for  the 
contemplation  of  mankind. 

When  we  speak  of  preserving  the 
Constitution,  we  mean  not  the  p(^)er  on 
which  it  is  written,  but  the  spirit  which 
dwells  in  it  Government  mctjf  lose  all 
its  real  character,  its  genius,  its  teihper. 
Without  losing  its  appearance.  Repub- 
licanism^ unless  3rou  guard  it,  will 
creep  out  of  its  case  of  parchment,  likq 
a  snake  out  of  its  skin.  Vou  may  have 
il  Despotism,  under  the  name  of  a  Re* 
publick.  You  may  look  on  a  goverh- 
ment,  and  see  it  possess  all  the  external 
modes  of  Freedom,  and  yet  find  nothiqg 
of  the  essence,  the  vitality,  of  Freedom 
in  it ;  just  as  you  may  contemplate  an 
embalmed  body,  wher«  art  hath  pre- 
served proportion  and  form,  amidst 
nerves  without  motion,  and  veins  void 
of  blood 

Among  the  most  numerobs  and 
the  most  dangerous  enemies  of 
our  government,  he  mentions  the 
passions  and  vices  of  the  people. 
But  considering  that  evil  commu- 
nications corrupt  systems,  as  well 
as  individuals,  he  enlarges  on  the 
dangers  which  threaten  its  well 
being  from  its  foreign  relations. 
Intimately  connected  as  is  our 
country  with  foreign  nations  bjr 
commerce,  which,  from  its  nature^ 
cannot  exist  without  rivalship,  he 
infers  the  necessity  and  good  pol- 
icy of  granting  it  a  protection,  suf-* 
ficientto  defend  it  from  the  inter- 
ruptions and  aggressions,  whick 
the.  spirit  of  rivalship  and  the  in- 
justice of  other  nations,  may  dis- 
pose them  to  offer.  The  want  of 
protection  to  commerce  will  be 
more  fatal  to  our  agriculture,  than 
eitiier  the  drought  or  the  mildew  t 
for,  in  this  itistancei  were  it  left  to 
our  choice,  we  should  certainly 
imitate  the  conduct  of  David,  by 
choosing  <<  to  fall  into  the  hands  of 
the  Lord(for  his  merdes  are  great) 


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ui 


VWETT'6    ilDDltSSt. 


and  not  to  M  into  the  hand^  of 
mea." 

We  have  seldom  read  any  pro- 
duction of  this  kind,  which  has  con- 
tained more  correct  sentiment,  ex- 
pressed with  so  much  felicity  of 
ftlncy  and  t^urity  of  sfyle.  It  is 
firee  from  tnc  rancorous  colpunn^s 
yf.  |)arty  spirit^  which  are  wholly 
mconsJ^cnt  ^ith  true  eloqueoce. 
If  there  is  any  f^ult  in  the  style,  it 
is  ^at  the  sentences,  thbngh  not 
colloquial)  are  in  general  too  sen- 
^eotioQSr  and  expressed  with  too 
much  brevky  for  the  flow  of  a  pub' 
lick  harangue^  We  must  notice 
likewise)  tluit  the  pr&ter  has  been 
acanfldlously  inattentive  to  corrcct- 
ii^g  thejw^s.^  We  tvddone  ex- 
tract {n^  which  our  readers  may 
jMdf  e  ofithe.autiior's  manner. 

When  we  turn  fh)m  Great-Britain  to 
Thmce,  we  arc  led  to  contemplate  a 
mitton  of  very  diffident  sHuation,  pow- 
#n  «ttd  character.  We  seem  to  be 
tctri^d  busk  to  tke  lUnnan  ujgt.  The 
^s  of  Cacs^  ^TQ  cofpe  l^^ai|^  Even 
f  greater  than  Cxaar  is  nere.  The 
throne  of  the  Bourbons  is  filled  by  a  new 
ehaf after,  of  the  tnoat  astonislung  Ibr- 
tunesi  A;  new  Dynaity  hath  taken 
l^ce  ia  £uiopc«  A  new  era  hath  com- 
jj^QW^^r  A?»  Empire  U  founded,  more 
5bpulaus,more  energetic,  more  warlike, 
more  powerful,  tlian  ancient  Rome,  at 
i«y  tnciment  df  her  existence.  The 
base  of  tiiii  mighty  imbric  covert  Fraiice, 
HoUand,  Spain,  Pruasia,  Italy,  and  Ger- 
BMi^.i  emba«in|^  perhaps,,  an  eighth 
part  of  the  population  of  the  globe. 

Though  this  Empire  is  cJoramcrcial 
m  ^sorne  degree,  and  in  some  of  it» 
parts,  its  niding  passion  is  not  com- 
merce, but  war.  It»  genius  is  con- 
qiiest  I  its  ambition  is  f£ne.  With  all 
the  .imi^orali\y,  the  ticeatiousness,  the 
Dpodigality,  the  corruption,  of  declining 
Kome,  it  has  the  ertterprizc,  the  cou- 
htge,  6ie  ferocity,  of  Rome,  in  the 
Aays  of  the  Consuls.  While  tiie  French 
RcTolution  was  iv:ting,  it  vraa-  difficult 
to  ^peak  of  France,  without  exciting 
the  rancour  of  political  party.  The 
eause,  in  which  her  leaders  professed 
to  be  engaged,  was  too  dear  to  Ameri- 
^iMheiuts  to  iiAr  their  motives  to  bft 


questioned,  or  thetr  excesses  ecnsoreJ^ 

withi u^  severity.  B ut  the  HeTolution- 
ary  Drama  is  now  closed — tlie  curtain 
hath  fiiUen  on  tliosc  tremendous  scenes, 
which  for  fourteert  years  held  the  eyc» 
of  the  umverse— 4hat  meteor,  which 
*f  from  ka  horrid  hair  shook  pestileiiee 
and  war,"  bMli  now  passed  on  into  the 
dist'iiit  regions  of  space,  and  left  us  to 
speculate  coolly  on  tlie  causes  of  it* 
wondeiful  appearance. 

ART.  43. 

\/in  addresn^  delivered  at  Salem^  July 
4,  1806,  071  a  rrdtitary  celebration 
of  the  day  J  by  the  brigade  and  rr - 
gimmtai  officers y  late  commianori' 
ed  officers^  and  three  indefiendcnt 
comfianiesj  at  the  request  of  the 
officers.  By  Maj,  Samuel  Svfett, 
Boston  :   Prmted  by   Oliver  & 

.  Munroe,  for  Joshua  Cnshing, 
Salem.     1866. 

W^  have  been  frequently  re- 
ffllnded  by  the  coiHmtial  appear- 
ance and  diBapt>earHnce  of  the  ad- 
dresses and  orations  of  otir  coun- 
tryitien,  of  the  visionary  progeny 
of  Banquo,  as  represented  in  the 
p!ay  ;  and  have  often  been  dispos- 
ed, like  the  irritated  Macbeth,  to 
exclaim,  well  "  see  no  more  :... 
what !  will  the  line  stretch  ont  to 
the  crack  of  doom  ?**....Whydo  you 
shew  us  **this  ?"  But  as  there  is 
no  plea  to  excuse  us  from  deroga- 
tory duties,  which  actually  belong 
to  the  department  we  fill,  we  bend 
to  the  drudgery  of  the  present  re- 
view, with  as  tolerable  a  grace  as 
ire  can  cIcVeHy  assumej  persuaded 
that  our  readers,  let  them  withliold 
what  they  can,  wBl  hardly  deprive 
us  of  the  merk  of  psftience;  We 
bohfessithit  we  are  disappointed  in 
being  obliged  to  express  an  mrfa- 
vourabk  opinbn  of  the  lucubra- 
tions of  the  gentleman  of  Saiem* 
and  frankly  acknowledge  that  wc 
expected  something  better  fron^  a 
scholar,  who  regards  his  country 
is  ^  svperionr  in  semi&arics,  scl» 


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«WKTT*t  ADD&&St. 


4U 


tntn  ftnd  arts^'^  than  the  tomnunt- 
place  dedatnation  of  a  street  poli« 
.tician.     We  think  that  he  might, 
at  least,  have  preserved  his  moth- 
er tongue  from  uncouth  combina- 
tions, iimpure    phraseology,    and 
monstrous    metaphor ;     that    he 
filight  have  discovered  the  distinc* 
tion  between  coarseness  and  sim- 
plicity, fustian  and  sublimity.    We 
looked  to  have  beheld  excelleuce 
where  opportunilies  were  enjoyed, 
and  imagined  that  one  who  resided 
in  Actulemus  would  be  eifted  widi 
inspiration.      But  we   have  been 
/wretchedly    dlsappqinted  ;       and 
should  any  one  iu^ge.of  our  ora- 
tor by  the  complexion  of  his  per- 
formance, he  would  conceive  that 
be  was  inspired  by  no  muse  .but  ^f 
the  denomination  of  Dragglc^to^f 
-jmd  that  be  had  taken  up  his  dbode 
"Only  in  the  purlieus  of  literaturt. 
It  may  be  ^conjectured  by  many, 
ifrom  the.diaotick  character  of  the 
.Major's  natter  and  ornament,  that 
.he  was  required  to  compose  at  a 
tshoDt  notification  ;  that  his  similes 
iWete  driven  into  service  too  pre- 
cipitately to  be  disciplined,  and  that 
,  his  ideas  were  drafted,  before  they 
•tCQuld  be  dresaed.     Whether  or 
not  this  was  the  case,  we  pretend 
JKit  to  say  ;  but  we  confidently  af- 
firm, that  there  is  a  surprising  re- 
sf  mbjq^pe  betw^cp  Ws  figures  and 
.sentimentSv  and  the  deplorable  ae- 
scription  which  he  gives  of  our 
,Jni)itia,7Whicli,we  huu^bly  conceive, 
while  ^e  contend  for  the  resem- 
blance, to  be  but  a  few  removes  in 
discipUpe  above  the.  recruits  of  Sir 
Jokn.    But  let  us  he#r  jthe  M^r 
•peak  iac  himself. 

Ah-etufy  Jfonaparte,  t^  finy  meteor, 
the  ipiejtdid  coTnet^  vhote  magmjlcem 
vices  we  ^ov)  in  love  voith,  v>ho  ha*  Mttrp- 
'tdthe  thunderbclt  tf  Meaven,  and  it  arm- 
td  with  toinn  mii  asiotirnatiwn,  initru- 
fnentt  <ff  Sell,  has  begun  hi*  canmbal 
frmeu  in  our  C(,untrj  ;  he  ha*  Qne  fo^ 
im  Lwiiiam, 


Rhetoricians,  we  believe,  re(|uirk 

that  something  like  analogy  shoulS 
be  preserved  between  t>^0  objects 
that  are  brought  together  for  the 
purpose  of  illustration,  and  that  no 
attribute  shoutd  be  assigned  t6  6nef 
that  is  incongruous  with  the  othef. 
How  far  this  requisition  hai  beeti 
regarded  by  the  Major,  Btmaparte 
and  his  comet  sufficiently  show  ; 
the  latter  possesung,  along  with  its 
prototype, "  magnificent  vices,with 
which  we  are  in  love,  instruraehCt 
of  hell,  assassination,  and  poison,'* 
and  very  naturally  beginning ' "  a 
cannibal  progress." 
« Faf alklt  at  like,  u  Volcaa  apd  hji  jtfg* 

From  their  coDinlimental  notices 
of  the  ladies,  6ne  woufd  imagine, 
;that  our  orators  combined  the 
ki)ight  with  the  scholar.  No  an* 
niversary  is  now  a  days  observed 
.witlKwtofferingincense  to  the  fair, 
and  strangers  might  conceive, 
should  fhey  credit  thdr  worship, 
pers,  that  the  -cotftitfy  Was  Ifh^ojfti- 
modious  from  the  number  of  its 
-goddesses;  liJtes  and  roses, corals 
litid  pearls,  are  ao  extravagantly 
oflfered  to  the  (tiViiiity  6f  tfcdr  beau- 
ty, that  the  spring  is  deprived  of 
iier  cmnplexion  and  perfume,  and 
the  sea  nymphs  are  in  wimt  of  a 
necklace  and  comb.  But,  in  the 
whole  division  of  female  idolaters, 
u  will  ue  uniieuR  co  cnscuvcr  iiiany , 
who  can  come  abreast  with  the 
Major  in  the  extract  that  follows. 
We  quote  it  as  a  pattern  for  iimw- 
arttt^m  ^neral. 

Go  next  to  defenceless  Suahia.  Se* 
itic  enemy  in  ^^vxt  countn%  nee  them 
^uko  the  rich  poor,  the  poor,  beasts  of 
b,tirthc\i  i  ^c  them  guilty  of  pillage, 
rape,  and  blood  ;  see  them  lYmrder 
^otVr?  J»*^d  the  new  bom  babe  ;  and 
return  aj^in  to  your  own  country,  and 
behold  ybiir  o^wn  fair  daughieni,  sufpaf  $. 
ing  those  of  Carthage^who  twisted  their 
loHjg^  afeid  ^Iden  locks  to  bowstrings; 
♦he  mTI3  uistre  of  their  eyes'  beannng 
loire  and  intellect ;    chaste  as  Dlamy 


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444 


BXARBOBir's  OEATXOK. 


beauteouB  fts  the  Goddess  of  lore,  un- 
tainted as  the  perftnned  gale  of  Arabia; 
whom  the  devil  in  the  wily  serpent 
could  not  tempt ;  but  they  tvoidd  tempt 
the  deriL 

In  coDclusioDt  to  speak  mot^ 
emphaticalljr  than  elegantly,  we 
think  that  the  Major  lia^  niade  a 
flash  in  the  pan. 


ART.  44. 

^  oraiion^fironounced  at  the  Branch 
meetinghouse  in  Satem^  July  4, 
ISOSyin  commemoration  ofjimeri' 
can  Inde/iendence,  By  H,  A.  5. 
Dearborn,  From  the  Rcgister- 
dffice.    ttfi.  14. 

This  is  Indeed  a.  most  pleasant 
and  delectable  speech.  The  au- 
thor is  not  enthralled  by  the  rules 
of  rhetorick  and  logick  ;  and,  dis- 
daining to  creep  in  humble  prose, 
he  mounts  Pegasus,  and  leaves  dis- 
consolate mortals  below  : 

•Hb  hpne,  the  4nr  creature,  be  prances  and  reach 
yr\:h  ribbons  In  knou  at  his  tail  and  his  cars.* 

The  turbid  stream  of  his  elo- 
quence is  choaked  by  the  dbjoint* 
ed  fragments  of  images  and  me- 
taphors : 

«Baa]u,  trees,  and  skies  in  thicli  disorda  nrn.' 

As  specimens  we  select  the  fol- 
lowing     humorous      paragraphs, 


though  the  reit  of  tibe  omttM  will 
have  cause  to  complain  of  this  pre- 
ference of  its  twin  brethren  : 

AH  the  merciless  engines  of  aristocra- 
cy  were  leagued  in  opposition  to  tfie 
philanthropicK  struggles  of  aspirins'  ge- 
nius, whilst  the  insat^le  scytne  <tf  per- 
secatkm  swung  its  keen  set  edge 
through  the  rich  and  luxuriant  scions  of 
genninating  freedom.    P.  8. 

£Uicouraged  by  our  national  policy, 
the  regenerated  spirit  of  enquiring  ge- 
nius has  thrown  open  the  massyportals 
of  science,  and  exposed  to  the  emlgent 
beams  of  day  the  ens^ulphed  Hercula- 
neum  of  literature,  wnicn  was  long  en- 
tombed by  the  lara  of  persecution,  oiled 
Incumbent  dxmng  the  dark  ages  or  su- 
perstitious barbjSty.    P.  12. 

If  Mr.  D.  will  permit  us  for  a 
moment  to  assume  his  gaudy  gar- 
ments and  tinsel  array,  we  should 
observe,  that  he  has  enlai^ged  the 
i>oundariea  of  infinite  space,  and 
strolled  extra  Jlammantia  m^ma 
anuff^',...given  existence  to  nonenti- 
ty,., added  potency  to  omnipotence, 
...soared  above  the  empyrean,  till 
his  wings  were  melted  in  the  blaze 
of  his  own  eloquence,  and  then 
tumbled  and  descended  below  the 
bottom  of  the  abyss  of  balho%...and, 
by  an  oration  of  only  fourteen  pa- 
ges, has  irrefntgably  and  confound- 
ingly  demonstrated  that  no  sense 
is  nonsenses. 


MONTHLY   CATALOGUE 

Or  New  Publications  in  the  United  States  for  August,  1«06, 


tniil  bont,  Ibot  qasdam  mcdioob,  ftint  mala  phira.— MART. 


NEW  WORKS. 
The  American  Dispensatory  ;  con- 
taining the  operations  of  pharmacy  \  to- 
gether ,with  the  natural,  chemical, 
pbarmaceuticaly  and  medical'  history 
of  the  different  substances  employed  in 
medicipe  I  illustrated  and  explained 
according  to  the  principles  of  modem 
chemistiy,  comprehending  the  improve- 
ments in  Mr.  Duncan's  second  edition 
of  the  Edinburgh  New  Dispensatory. 
The  arrangement  simplified  and  the 


whole  adapted  to  the  practice  of  Medi- 
cine snd  Pharmacy  in  the  UnitedStates. 
With  several  copperplates,  exhibiting 
the  new  system  of  chemical  characters, 
and  representing  the  most  usefiil  appa- 
ratus. By  John  Redman  Coxe.  M.  D. 
one  of  the  Physicians  of  the  Philadel- 

?hia  Hospital,  &c.    8vo.  Pr.  bound  £4 
Philadelphia,  Thos.  Hobson.  '_ 

The  Philadelphia  Medical  Museuxn, 
for  March,  Apn3,  wd  May,  1806.  .Vol 
in.  No.  1.    Condttctejby  John  Red. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


XOKTHLT  CATALOGUE. 


445 


^.  116w  Pllikde)|^lil^  A.  Btftnn, 
tor  Thomat  Dobaop^  * 

The  Philadelphia  Medical  and  Phy- 
sical Journal,  Part  II.  VoL  11.  collected 
and  arranged  by  Beiyaznin  Smith  Bar- 
ton, MD.  8vo.  Pnce  in  boards  j^. 
Philaddphia»  Conrad  &  Co. 

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Yaik.  Selections  of  various  useAd 
practical ibrmsy  proceedings  in  partition 
of  lands,  &c.  Poughkeepsie,  N..Y.  Ni- 
cholas  Power. 

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M  copious  index.  Pr.  75  cts,  Charles- 
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An  Apology  for  the  Rite  of  Baptism, 
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them,  by  the  Rev.  Daniel  Merrill,  and 
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congregation  m  Bridgewater.  12mo.- 
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tucky,  John  Goodman. 

Catalogus  Eorum,  qui  adhuc  in  Uni- 
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of  Japheth,  considered  and  illustrated 
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19th  year  of  his  age.  By  William  Em- 
erson, pastor  of  the  church.  2d  edition. 
8vo.    Boston,  Belcher  &  Armstrong. 

A  Sermon,  preached  at  the  ordma. 
tion  of  Rev.  Nathan  Waldo,  a.b.  in 
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1806.  By  Eli4ahr£ttiah,^M^  pastor 
of  the  church  m  Byfield,  Mass.  Han* 
over,  N.  ]H.  printed  by  Moses  Davis, 
Svo.pp.  16. 

A  Discourse,  delivered  before  the 
Humane  Socii^iy  of  the  Ccmmon  wealth 
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Thaddeus  Mason  Harris,  minister  of 
the  church  in  Dorchester.  8vo.  pp.  40. 
Boston,  E.  Lincoln, 

A  Sermon,  containing  reflections  on 
the  Solar  EcHpse,  which  appeared  on 
June  16, 1806;  dtUveredonUie.Lovd's 
day  foUowiJig.^  By  Joseph  Lathrop, 
D.D.  pastor  of  the  First  Church  in 
West  Springfield,  Second  edition.  8vo. 
pp.  20,    Springfield,  Mass.  H.  Brewer. 

A  Sermon,  preached  before  the  Gen- 
eral  Assembly  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church  in  the  United  States  of  Am^^^ 


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Ikhmm  College,  in  the  sUte  of  NeW- 
York.    »vo.  Now-York. 

An  A4drM»,  deliTcred  before  the 
JU^ub&can  Citizens  of  Contofd,  N.  H. 
assembled  to  celebrate  the  anniveraary 
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fiyo.    Amherit,  Joseph  Gushing. 

A  Maaonick  Ditcourfce,  delivered  in 
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5806.  J3y  Thomas  Beede.  Porta- 
mottth,  N.  H. 

American  Independence  :  An  Or*- 
tion,  pronounced  at  Ne\r-Bedford,  July 
4^  1806.  By  Zabdiel  Sampson,  x.ft. 
Published  by  request.  8vo.  pp.  16. 
Bosioii,  Adama  &  Rhoadea. 
■  An  Oration,  delivered  in  the  Inde- 
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lina, on  f  riday,  the  4lh  of  July,  1806, 
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Keatii^  Letria  Simons,  a  member  of 
fheReVolUtienSocioty*  8^.  Charles- 
ton, Wm.  t.  touftjf . 

An  Ortfticm  in  oewmemorafion  of  the 
independence  of  .fedenrte  America,  de- 
livered at  Strafliam,  July  4, 1806.  By 
He?.  ItmoB  Miltimore.    Portsmouth. 

NEW  EDITIONS. 


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ces. By  Abraham  Hee6,  D.D.,  F.R.S., 
editor  of  the  last  ctUtion  of  Mr.  Cham- 
bets'  Dictionary,  \rith  the  assistance  of 
eminent  pjrofessiohal  j^ntlemen.  First 
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acters. 4to.  Price  S3.  Philadelphia, 
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The  History  of  Napiieon  B4knapAite, 
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East's  Pleas  of  the  Cwmti,  nds.  I.  ml 
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The  Beauties  of  the  Botai^ck  CardtfA. 
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Art  Introdactioh  to  Uie  Study  of  the 
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,  Vd.  I.  of  The  Works  of  the  Right 
ilonourable  Edmund  Burke.  From  the 
latest  London  edition.  8vo.  Boston, 
D.  Carliile,  for  John  West  and  Oliver 
Cromwell  Creenleaf. 

The  Trials  of  Colonel  WillUm  Smith, 
9nd  Mr.  Samuel  G.  Ogden,  before  the 
Ciicuit  CooK  of  the  IJnited  States  for 
the  District  of  New-York,on  the  char^ 
•f  having  aided  and  assisted  General 
Mu^iida  in  a  military  expedition  against 
the  Spanish  government  of  Caraccas. 
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Tbe  Historj',Principles,and  Practice, 
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|pe«eral  necessary  to  sustain  and  defend 
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Charles  Bunnington,  sei^trant  at  law. 
Kaw-York,  printed  from  the  kst  Lon- 
don edition,  by  B.  Domin. 

A  Physiologieal  Essay  on  Yellow- 
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wtnne  p«rt.  By  Dr.George  Carter,  Di- 
rector General  of  the  Military  Hospital 
of  Soatii-Carolina,  during  the  late  revo- 
lution. Price  gl.  Charleston,  S.  Car- 
olina, Mr.  Negrin. 

The  Wife.  1  vol.  I2mo.  Boston, 
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fine woven  paper,  pp.150  molaeap  8vo. 
Pr.  in  extra  boards  75  ots.  to  subscriber^. 
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An  Examination  into  the  Belligerent 
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America;  in  which  the  numbepsof 
Phocion,  relative  to  the  subject,  are  in- 
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The  Father  and  Daughter,  a  nevr 
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Price  gl  boxmd  to  subscribers.  Rldi- 
mond,  Vir.    Samuel  Grantland. 

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Testaments,  Including  also  the  cM:emv 
Fences  of  400  years,  from  the  last  of  tfre 
Prophets  to  tlie  bhth  of  Christ,  and  the 
Life  of  our  blessed  Saviour  and  hia 
Apostles,kc.with  eopioas  noteS,ex]3lan* 
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the  text  of  the  Ret.  Laurence  How^, 
A.M.  With  considerable  a^Utions  and 
improvements,  by  Rev.  George  Burden* 
author  ofVillage  Sermons,  Ut.  3  vo|3- 
8vo.  Price  bound  g2,25  each  VDhimc. 
^iladelphia,  Woodward. 

Pyrroloimogia  ;  or.  Inquiries  into  the 
Pestilence  called  Yellow  Fever.  C«n* 
taining  the  history  of  its  sym])toms  aitd 
pinevalertce  in  different  parts  of  the 
wortd  ;  a  comparative  statement  of  fll 
controversies  respecting  its  origtn, 
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heoHh  in  the  state  of  Pennsylvania,  hon- 
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300  each.  Pr.  irt  boards  to  ^ihscrihera 
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INTELLIGENCE. 

Mr.  Bi^son,  Editor  of  tlie  Unjte4 
States  Gazette,  is  preparing  to  put  to 
press  a  ne*w  and  very  interesting  work; 
witWed,  *'  Orighial  Anet(!otes  of  Fred. 
erick  II.  King  of  Prussia,' and  of  hia 
Family^  his  Court,  his  Ministers,  hia 


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MEDICAL  RlPORT. 


Academiet,  and  his  literary  Friends  : 
collected  during  a  iamiliar  intercoume 
of  twenty  years  with  that  prince.  Trans- 
lated from  the  French  of  Dieiidonne 
Thiebault,  Professor  of  Belles  Letlrea 
In  the  Royal  Academy  of  Berlin." 

We  understand  that  a  subterraneous 
cavern  has  been  discovered  within  a  few 
days,  on  the  tuippike  road  in  Manlius, 
about  three  miles  from  the  square,  in 
Onondago  county,  New-York.  The 
circumstances  attending  this  discovery 
are  somewhat  singular.  A  Mr.  Beck- 
with,  inn-keeper,  in  digging  a  well, 
havingr  descended  about  25  feet,  came 
immediately  upon  the  cave,  or  a  cavity 
at  the  bottom,  about  3  feet  in  depth,  and 
3  or  4  in  diameter,  filled  with  pure  wa- 
ter ;  upon  which  a  candle  was  let  down, 
and  the  discovery  completed.  A  pas- 
sage was  found,  extending  north  and 
south  (across  the  road)  a  considerable 
distance  i  it  was  ei^plored  about  80  feet 
each  way,  much  to  the  graUfication  of 
its  visitants,  among  whom  was  our  in- 
formant The  entrance  into  the  cavern 
from  the  bottom  of  the  well  is  7  or  8 
feet  high,  but  very  narrow ;  an  equal 
height  was  preserved  through  the  whole 
passage,  excepting  at  one  place  to  the 
northward,  in  which  persons  are  oblig- 
ed to  crawl  a  short  distance  ;  the  widUi 
of  the  aperture  is  unequal,being  in  some 
parts  barely  sufficient  to  admit  a  com- 
mon sized  person  ;  but  in  the  southern 
part  there  is  one  gradual  globular  ex- 
pansion of  many  feet  The  sides  of  the 
cave  appear  to  be  limestone,  through 
which  water  constantly  oozes,  and  forms 
a  small  stream  that  runs  to  the  north- 
ward ithrough  the  whole  explored  a- 
venue.  The  sides  are  decorated  with 
various  excrescences,  some  resembling 
pillars,  extending  from  top  to  bottom^ 
and  others  in  an  inverted  conical  form, 
all  having  the  appearance  of  grev  mar- 
ble, with  small  regular  ridges,  evidently 
denoting  their  gradual  formati(m.  The 
rill  purhng  under  foot,  the  transparence 
of  the  sides  of  the  cavern  as  exhibited 
)>y  the  clear  blaze  of  the  candle,  and  the 
reflections  naturally  produced  by  the 
situation  of  a  visitant,  are  said  to  be 
truly  delightful.  A  vein  of  ore,  sup- 
posed to  be  copper  or  brass,  is  also  said 
to  be   found  m   the    cave.— J5feriim<r 

Mr.  W.  H.  Ireland,  whose  fabrica- 
tion of  the  Shakspeare  MSS.  excited  so 
much  attention  a  short  time  since  in 
Eng^d,  has  written  an  amusing  book, 
containing  his  confession  of  all  Uie  cir- 


cumstances which  attended  thatliteri' 
ry  forgery,  relating  not  on^  to  the  pa- 
pers, but  to  the  various  personages  who 
distinguished  themselves  while  the  cdo- 
troversy  continued. 

Brisban  and  Brannan,  of  New- York, 
have  just  published,  in  a  small  pocket 
volume  neatly  printed,  "  The  Life  of 
Lamorgnon  Malesherbes,**  fbrmeriy 
French  minister  of  state  during  the 
reign  of  the  last  Louis,  a  work  of  un- 
common merit 

"  It  exhibits  the  outlines  of  a  charac- 
ter, distinguished  most  eminently  by 
purity  and  worth  ;  and  at  the  saaio 
time,  recommended  by  all  the  advan- 
tages which  are  conferred  by  family, 
rank,  and  accomplishments  both  ele- 
gant and  solid. — Europe,  in  the  ci^- 
teenth  century,  does  not  furnish  an  m- 
vidual  of  greater  interest  and  on  whose 
history  the  mind  dwells  with  more  sat- 
isfaction and  delight  The  narrative, 
indeed,  has  little  to  boast  on  the  score 
of  method  or  arrangement :  but,  as  it 
details  the  most  interesting  pasaaces  in 
the  life  of  such  a  man,  it  cannot  tail  to 
engage  attention,  and  is  entitled  to  a 
considerable  share  of  notice." 


Statement  qf  Ducanea  from    July 
20  to  August  20.   , 

THE  weather  of  the  past  month  has 
been  much  cooler  tlian  common.  The 
winds  from  the  south-west,  east,  and 
more  frequently  from  tlie  north-west 
than  usual  at  tins  season. 

The  most  prevalent  disease  has  been 
a  mild  typhus,  attended  in  many  cases 
with  affection  of  the  intestinal  camd  ;  it 
has  scarcely  been  fatul  in  any  instance. 
Diarrhoea  and  dysentery  have  prevailed 
in  some  degree,  but  they  have  submit- 
ted readily  to  medicine.  Cholera  in- 
fantum has  been  comparatively  rare. 

No  great  number  of  patients  have 
been  vaccinated  during  the  month.  The 
cause  of  this  is  principally  an  errcnewu 
notion,  that  the  vaccine-pock,  analogous 
to  the  smallpox,  wiU  not  operate  so 
favourably  during  tlie  summer,  as  in  the 
spring  and  autumn. 


EDITORS'  NOTE.-»We  hope  tlut  the  geatlc- 
man,  who  lent  the  Sans  Souci,  No.  x,  will  cxomc 
lu  for  the  alteration  we  have  made  iahis  atraace- 
ment.  We  can  assture  him,  that  contrfinitiooa 
Itom  him  will  be  very  acceptable. 


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THE 


MONTHLY   ANTHOLOGY. 


SEPTEMBER,    1806. 

mmSSSSSaSSSIBSSSiSSSSSSBBSSSSm 


F4r  the  Anthology. 
THE  SCHOOLS  OF   PAINTING   AND   THE   MASTERS. 


Therb  is  no  subject  of  inquiry, 
more  important  to  the  study  of 
human  understanding,  than  that, 
Which  relates  to  the  first  actidn  of 
genius  ;  or,  to  use  the  expression 
bf  an  idea  rather  than  a  term  va- 
cant of  it,  that  impulse  of  intellect, 
Which  propels  an  individual  to  the 
achievement  of  some  sublime  de- 
sign. It  has  been  this  bright  prin- 
tiple,  which  has  shot  light  through 
the  immeasurable  extent  of  the  re- 
gions of  the  imagination,  produced 
a  splendid  medium  to  the  mental 
vision,  and  presented  new  objects 
oi  beauty,  grandeur,  and  dehght. 
What  philosophy  has  done  in  dis- 
ciplining the  forces  of  the  under- 
standing, the  ARTS  have  perform- 
ed in  civilizing  and  reBning  them. 
The  stubbornness  of  prejudice  and 
the  awk"wardness  of  pedantry , which 
have  followed  the  rigour  of  her  im- 
position, have  been  won  by  their 
tenderness  and  grace.  The  max- 
hns  of  the  profound  Stagirite,  and 
even  the  pomp  of  Philip,  might 
ftever  have  roused  the  mighty 
itnrit  of  Alexander,  if  the  glory  of 
Achilles  had  not  sprung  from  the 
fancy  of  Homer.  Even  the  hard- 
ness and  cruelty  of  millions,  naing- 
kd  in  war  and  slaughter,  have  been 
melted  by  the  stealing  influ^ce  of 
VfiLai.lCp.9.    SI 


their  charms,  and  the  sound  of  the 
clashing  of  armour  and  of  the  clan- 
gour of  trumpets  has  lengthened, 
and  subsided  ^l  distance,  that  the 
lyre  might  sweep  over  the  ear,  in 
the  deep  tones  and  faint  vibrations 
of  inspiration. 

It  is  not  merely  poetry ,that  kin- 
dles the  passions  into  a  pure  and 
regular  flame,  and  excites  the  whole 
mass  of  our  natures  into  a  motion 
of  feeling  and  sympatliy.  They 
burst  likewise  from  our  hearts, 
with  the  sight  of  the  enchanting 
surface  of  the  picture,  and  with  the 
representation  of  the  various  ex- 
pressions and  attitudes  of  beauty 
and  grace  in  the  forms  of  sculpture. 
Painting  and  sculpture  iniitate,and, 
by  infinite  combinations,  even  /tw- 
fircpucy  nature.  Poetry  describes 
her.  Thousands  of  separate,  natu- 
ral beauties  are  tlius  gathered,  and 
concentrated  into  one  imaginary 
perfection.  Apelles  so  forcibly  ex- 
pressed power  in  his  figure  of  A- 
lexander,  that  the  thunder  seemed 
rushing  from  his  hand,  to  destroy 
the  spectator  ;  and  hii  Anadyo- 
mene  was  so  lovely,  that  the  paint- 
er even  became  charmed  >\ith  the 
fiction  of  his  own  creation.  He, 
who  has  not  gazed  on  the  tortures 
of  the  Laocoon,  hardly  Ii^s  ftlt  tlie 


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450 


THE   SCHOOLS    OF    PAINTING,    t^C. 


emotions  of  pity  ;  and  he,  who  has 
once  bi;hL'ld  ttie  Apjilo  and  Venus, 
casi  never  look  ajjain*  for  tjrace  of 
ioi'm  and  JoveIincs!>  of  limb,  on  the 
lunii;in  ligure.  The  Madonas  of 
llAphdci  and  Guido,  Correi;i(>  and 
Sass.dcrctto,  till  and  purify  the 
soui  vvich  divine  love,  and  the  Last 
Judj^m^ut  of  Michael  Angflo 
brij^htcns  the  conscience  with  more 
heavenly  li.^ht,  or  overspreads  it 
with  a  thicUor  gloom,  than  all  that 
theological  rhetorick  has  effected. 

Soma  accoant  of  the  orders  of 
painting,  and  of  those,  who  are 
ranked  as  classical  p.antei's,  may 
\>^i  usjful,  if  not  interesting  ;  but 
to  those,  to  whom  it  is  ust:ful,  it 
ought  to  be  interesting.  For 
fuller  information  the  reader  is  re- 
ferred to  the  Abb-  Richard. 

The  Roman  school  ranks  tlic 
first,  and  dates  its  institution  at  the 
time  of  KupiiacI,  who  has  always 
been  acknowledged  as  its  chief. 
Tliis  school  is  particularly  distin- 
guished for  peculiar  beauty,  cor- 
rectness of  design,  and  elegance  of 
composition  ;  the  truth  of  expres- 
sion, and  intelligence  of  attitudes. 
The  able  masters  of  this  school 
have  principally  formed  themselves 
on  the  study  of  the  antique.  The 
most  of  the  Roman  school  have 
attended  less  to  colour,  than  to  the 
sublime  expression  and  solemn 
style  of  their  fi^^urcs,  awakening 
in  the  miiid  of  those,  who  behold 
til  em,  all  the  grand  emotions,  with 
wUich  they  themselves  were  struck. 
By  this  style  they  acquired  a  su- 
premacy, and  their  pictures  hold 
the  highest  rank  amongst  tlie 
Painters. 

The  Florence  school  has  for 
its  founders  Leonardo  de  Vinci, 
and  Michael  Anj^elo  Bounarotti. 
These  great  artists  have  transmit- 
ted to  their  students  a  manner, 
strong  and  bold,  and  a  sublimity  of 
style     and    gigaiitick   expression, 


which,  though  often  beyond  naturcf 
is  always  magnificent. 

The  Lombard  school  has  united 
all  the  qualities,  which  form  the 
perfection  of  the  art.  To  the 
study  of  the  antique,  on  which  it 
has  formed  itself  for  design,  a& 
well  as  the  Roman  and  Florentine 
schools,  it  has  joined  all  the  most 
lively,  beautiful,  and  sensible  parts 
of  nature  ;  it  has  also  assembled 
all  the  science  and  graces  of  the 
art.  Co rregio  is  considered  as  the 
first  painter  and  master  of  this 
school.  Amongst  his  scholars 
wei^e  Parmegiano,  Schedoni,  the 
Carracci,  Guido,  &c. 

The  Venetian  school  is  remark- 
able for  the  perfection,  with  which 
its  painters  have  imitated  nature. 
Their  colouring  is  exquisite.  You 
observe  a  discrimination  of  light 
and  shade,  and  touches  of  the  pen- 
cil, most  gracious  and  lovely,  in  all 
the  pictures  of  Titian  and  Paul 
Veronese.  These  great  aitists, 
however,  seem  to  have  neglected 
that  design,  so  essential  to  per- 
fection. 

These  are  the  four  great  schools, 
which  have  pixxluced  works,  wliich 
seem  destined  to  remain  forever 
^uperiour  to  human  art  and  imi- 
tation. 

The  French  school  has  studied 
the  Italian,  and  Poussin  has  alto- 
gether followed  the  Roman. 

The  Flemish  school  has  done 
much  by  the  works  of  Rubens  and 
Vandyke.  In  Italy  they  arc  even 
esteemed  artists  of  an  illustrious 
order.  Vandyke  for  portrait  dis- 
putes the  first  rank,  and  Rubens 
in  history  and  allegory  yields  to 
none.  Their  colouring  is  so  pure 
and  bright,  that  a  constant  fresh- 
ness and  glow  is  ever  on  their 
figures.  The  Flemish  school  is 
remarkable  for  labour  and  nicctyi 
and  the  closest  imitation  of  na- 
ture.   Delicacy   and  patience  oi 


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THS  SCHOOLS   OP   PAIKTINO,   ^C. 


451 


the  pencil  arc  peculiarly  observed 
in  all  their  pictures. 

Having  now  given  these  short 
sketches  of  the  illustrious  and 
ancient  academies  of  painting,  we 
proceed  to  the  drudgery  of  biilhs, 
dates,  and  deaths. 

OF    THE    ROMAN   SCHOOL. 

Raphael  Sanzio,  horn  at  Urbin 
A.  D.  1483,  died  1520.  He  is  es- 
teemea  the  most  perfect  of  the 
painters.  His  genius  was  of  the 
highest  intelligence.  Grace  and 
love  make  all  his  female  figures 
•ngels,  and  refined  dignity  and 
majesty  elevate  his  men  into  the 
nature  and  form  of  the  gods.  As 
you  behold  the  «  School  of  A- 
THENs,"  you  are  at  once  in  the 
midst  of  the  awful  solemnity  of  the 
Jkademia  of  Plato.  The  heads  of 
his  philosophers  are  full  of  vener- 
able  wisdom  ;  their  visage  solemn, 
and  fixed  in  the  holiness  of  medi* 
tation.  His  Parnassus  partakes 
much  of  the  air  of  the  heavens,  and 
the  gods,  who  have  lit  on  it,  have 
brought,  from  the  other  world, 
forms  that  cannot  be  described.— 
But  was  ever  a  spot  so  pleasant  for 
Apollo  to  rest. upon,  in  his  aoiial 
course,  and  divert  himself  with  the 
sound  of  his  lyre  !  His  gi'eat  works 
are  at  Rome,  in  the  Vatican,  with 
the  exception  of  the  Tranf^figura' 
tion^  Si,  CeciUoy  and  the  Virgine  del 
Sedia. 

Julio  Romano,  born  1492,  died 
1 546  ;  the  favourite  pupil  of  Ra- 
phael. His  colouring  is  faint  and 
feeble,  but  his  figures  tender  and 
delicate. 

Poiidore,  bom  I4f5,  died  1543. 
His  colouring  is  fine,  his  design 
correct,  and  his  heads  remarkable 
for  strength. 

Perino  de  Bonacorri,  bom  1 500, 
died  1547  ;  he  painted  at  the  Vati- 
can under  the  instruction  of  Ra- 
phael, whom  he  so  closely  imitat- 


ed, that  many  of  his  pictures  pass 
for  those  of  his  master. 

Innocentio  de  Imola,  pupil  of 
Raphael  ;  he  designed  much  \Wt 
his  great  master.  His  pictures 
are  rare  and  valuable. 

Frederico  Barroci,  bom  1528, 
died  1612  ;  his  pictures  are  very 
striking  ;  he  resembled  Corre^io 
much  in  the  beauty  of  his  colour- 
ing ;  his  heads  are  particularly 
graceful. 

Dominichino,  bom  at  Rome, 
1589,  died  1624.  He  copied  the 
Antique,  and  Julio  Romano.  His 
imagination  was  full  of  spirit  and 
genius.  His  pictures  striking, and 
remarkable  for  the  sombre  tone  of 
their  colouring. 

Claude  Lorrain,  bom  1 600,  died 
1682,  at  Rome.  He  is  considered 
the  first  of  the  landscape  painters. 
His  beauty  is  in  the  aerial  perspec- 
tive and  distance  of  his  painting, 
and  in  his  power  of  displaying  na- 
ture. But  he  failed  in  the  figures 
in  his  landscapes.  Those,  that  arc 
good,  are  by  his  scholar  Bourgig- 
non. 

Andrea  Sacchi,  bom  at  Rome, 
I599,died  1661  ;  a  painter  worthy 
of  the  finest  period  of  the  art.  His 
pictures  are  of  admirable  design, 
and  full  of  grace  and  tenderness, 
and  glowing  with  the  colouring  of 
his  master  Albano. 

Salvator  Rosa,  bom  1614,  died 
1673.  His  pictures  are  full  of 
tmth  and  nature  strongly  expres- 
sed ;  he  seemed  to  have  studied 
nature  only.  He  excelled  in  bat- 
tles, ferocious  animals,  and  wild 
landscapes. 

Michael  Angelo  de  Carravagio, 
bom  1569,  died  1609.  His  pic- 
tures are  remarkable  for  depth  of 
shade,  and  style  of  nature.    * 

or   THE   FLORENTINE   SCHOOL. 

Cimabue,  born  1230,  died  1300.. 
He  is  regarded  as  the  father  of 


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453 


THE  SCHOOLS  ^V  yAIITTlfrOy  iS^. 


modem  painting.  He  learnt  the 
art  from  some  Grecian  painters  at 
Florence,  and  he  imitated  them 
with  much  spirit. 

Leonardo  da  Vinci,  bom  1445, 
died  1520  ;  also  sculptor  and  ar- 
chitect ;  the  greatest  genius,which 
has  graced  the  fine  arts.  His  fa-* 
mous  picture  of  the  Last  Supper 
was  painted  in  fresco  in  the  refec- 
tory of  the  Convent  of  Dominicans, 
in  Milan.  The  modern  Gauls,  on 
their  first  inroad  into  Italy,  at- 
tempted to  cut  out  the  wall  to 
make  this  one  of  their  spoils  of 
painting  ;  but  failing  in  their  pur- 
pose, with  their  wonted  barbarity 
they  reduced  its  beauty  and  mag- 
nificence into  a  state  of  ruin  and 
decay,  and  the  Last  Supper  of 
Leonardo  is  now  extant  only  by  its 
masterly  preservation  in  the  en« 
graving  of  Morghens.  He  was 
the  first  painter  of  his  age,  and 
died  in  the  arms  of  Francis  I. 

Pietro  Pcrrugino,  bom  1446, 
died  1524.  The  heads  of  bis  fig- 
ures  are  full  of  grace  and  beauty  ; 
his  colouring  is  faint. 

Bartolameo  della  Porto,  bom 
1465,  died  1517.  He  taught 
Kaphael  colouring. 

Michael  Angelo  Beunarotti, 
bom  in  Florence  1475,  died  1564  ; 
so  well  known  as  the  greatest 
painter,  sculptor,  and  architect  of 
modem  times.  His  principal  pic- 
tures are  in  fresco,  in  the  Vatican. 
His  statue  of  Mosea  is  ranked  with 
the  antique.  There  b  about  it  a 
supernatural  majesty  and  gran- 
deur,  which  constitute  as  much 
original  character,  as  force  and 
strength  do  in  the  Famese  Her- 
cules. Had  Michael  Angelo  have 
done  no  more  than  his  Motes^ 
his  fame  would  remain  forever 
among  the  sculptors  of  antiquity  ; 
biU  the  figures  of  Maming  and 
Evening'  Twilight^  and  of  Day  and 
J^igJUy'm  the  Miedici  Cbapel  at 


Florence,  spnisg'  abo  from  his  iii« 
finite  genius.  His  picture  of  the 
Last  Juoomxht  is  the  work  of 
an  age,  and  the  great  sketch  of  idl 
that  is  mighty  and  majestkk  In  the 
art.  The  imagination  is  forever 
falling  in  the  abyss  of  hell,  drawn 
by  hb  demons,  or  lising  into  the 
highest  heavens  OD  the  rustling 
motion  of  his  angels. 

Andrea  del  S^rto,  bora  1478, 
died  1 530,  is  among  the  first  pain^ 
ters  of  thb  school.  His  manner 
is  large  and  hb  pencil  soft  and 
delicate,  and  hb  pictures  have  yet 
a  wonderful  freshness.  He  is  es- 
teemed the  greatest  eoiourbtof  ha 
school.  Hb  pictures  are  chieflf 
in  Florence,  particularly  in  the 
ohurch  deC  Armunziazianej  bdoog'^ 
ing  to  the  convent  of  the  DomiM* 
cans.  They  are  in  fresco,  and 
wonderfully  fresh.  Michael  An* 
gelo  is  said  to  have  sat  fior  boors 
to  study  his  picture  of  the  Virgm 
on  ikt  iock. 

Oy  TJIK  tOMBARD  SCHOOL. 

Antonb  AUegro,  called  //  Cor- 
P€giOf  hom  1494,  died  1534.  Na- 
ture and  genius  made  Corregio  a 
painter,  he  having  seen  nothing  of 
the  masted  He  painted  much 
before  he  knew  his  own  perfectioDf 
and  discovered  it  by  comparbg 
hb  powers  with  a  picture  €i  Ra- 
phael. No  one  has  been  able  to 
imitate  the  enchanting  tints  and 
ttiellotr  sofmess  of  the  pencil  of 
Corregio. 

Francbco  Massuotti,  called  // 
Farmegiano  f  hb  manner  b  grace- 
ful, his  colouring  fresh  and  natu- 
ral, a!nd  the  drapei7  of  hb  figures 
graceful  and  flowing. 

Pclegrine  Tibalcti,  a  good  pain- 
ter and  fine  architect,  bora  1523, 
di^d  159». 

Laca  Cambbgi.  His  pictures 
aro  bold.    He  panted  with  great 


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THE  SCaOOLS  OT  FAiHTINO,  C^f. 


45S 


fiicUity  ufid  txpeditibD,  being  ablt 
to  pai])t  with  both  hands  at  once. 

I  Carracci,  \Loudcroico  ;  jiugua* 
dno  9a[i^Jnmb€Ue  ;...born  at  Bologna 
about  1560.  Annibaie  is  consid- 
ered the  greatest,  his  designs  be<* 
ing  grand,  his  colouiing  stn>ng,and 
composition  admirable.  Their 
pictures  are  chiefly  at  Bologna. 
They  there  had  a  school  oi  paint- 
ing, where  Guido,  Albano,  and 
Schedoni  formed  themselves. 

Bartholomeo  Schedoni,bom  1 560, 
died  1 6 1 6,  he  closely  imitated  Cor* 
rcgio. 

Guido  Rheni,  bom  at  Bologna, 
1575,  died  1640.  All  that  is  ten- 
der, beautiful,  and  lovely  in  nature 
is  in  his  pictures.  The  visage  and 
form  of  his  women  are  full  of 
beauty  and  love.  His  most  *  fa- 
mous picture  b  that  of  Peter  and 
Foul  in  the  Palace  Zampierri,  at 
Bologna.  He  is  said  to  have  stud- 
ied much  the  theatre  of  Niobe,  and 
thereby  attained  that  enchanting 
beauty,  which  remains  unequalled. 

Albano,  bom  1578,  died  1660. 
His  pictures  show  much  attention, 
nicety,  and  fine  colouring  ;  his  in- 
&nts  are  remarkable  for  beauty  and 
nature. 

Benedetto  Castigliane,  bom  at 
Genoa,  1616,  died  1670.  He  imi- 
tated all  the  painters  with  suc- 
cess, and  excelled  all  in  pasto- 
ral scenes  and  landscapes.  The 
touches  of  his  pencil  delicate,  and 
bis  light  pure. 

OF   THE  VENETIAN  SCKOOL. 

I  Bellini,  brothers,  are  consid- 
ered as  the  founders  of  this  school, 
bora  between  1440  and  1445,  and 
lived  (o  a  great  age ;  their  pictures 
remarkable  for  clear  and  bright 
colouring.  They  were  the  mas- 
ters of  Georgione  and  Titian. 

U  Georgione  deserves  a  rank 
amongst  the  first  paintets>  bora 


1477,  died  1511  ;  hSs  colouiing  is 
beautiful,  and  his  pictures  full  of 
nature.    His  portraits  admirable. 

Titiano,bom  1477.  The  death 
of  Georgiofie,  at  so  early  a  periodt 
gave  full  scope  to  his  genius,  and 
he  became  the  head  of  the  school 
of  Venice.  The  expression  and 
colouring  of  his  figures  and  iand<^ 
scapes  are  in  the  fulness  of  nature, 
and  his  poitraits  teem  with  fresh 
and  perpetual  life.  In  this  last 
branch  of  the  art  he  excels  aU 
X)ther8. 

Sebastiano  del  Piombo  :  he  was 
a  successful  scholar  of  Georgione. 
He  was  considered  by  Michael 
Angelo  the  first  painter  of  his  age, 
superiour  even  to  Raphael.  The 
£Eimous  Descent  of  the  Cross^  in 
fresco,  at  Rome,  was  sketched  by 
this  ^reat  master,  and  finished  by 
Sebastiano. 

Gio  Antonio  GegilIo,bom  1508, 
died  1580.  He  was  a  powerful 
rival  of  Titian. 

Paolo  Veronese,  bora  1532,  died 
1588.  His  pictures  y/'ill  forever 
delight  by  their  fulness  of  compo- 
sition, beauty  of  colouring,  and 
gracefulness  of  design. 

The  churches  of  Rome,  as  well 
as  of  the  other  principal  cities  of 
Italy,  have  for  ages  been  the  hal- 
lowed sanctuaries  of  the  magnifi^ 
cent  works  of  these  great  masters. 
Some  of  them  have  been  violated 
by  the  sacrilegbus  hands  of  French 
soldiers  ;  and  the  Holy  Virgin, 
who  was  drawn  to  shed  a  benign 
look  on  the  devotee  at  the  altar,  is 
now  smiling  on  the  prinking  Par- 
isian /tetit  maitrey  in  the  Louvre* 

The  French  have,  in  some  mea- 
sure, been  to  the  modem  Ro- 
mans whiit  the  ancient  were  to 
Greece,  with  tliis  difference,  the 
Romans  took  from  Greece  all  that 
was  minutely  beautiful  and  ex<p 
qttisite  in  the  arts  ;   the  Frencb> 


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454 


LIFE   OF   BENTLET. 


have  despoiled  Rome  only  of  what 
was  rao6t  striking  and  celebrated. 
Their  hands  were  first  laid  on  the 
Laocoon,  the  Apollo,  the  Venus, 
and  the  Venus  of  the  Capitol,  and 
on  the  six  pictures,  which,  by  dis- 
tinction of  pre-eminence,  were 
called  the  Six  picture*  of  Rome^ 
viz.  The  Communion  of  St.  Jerome^ 
by  Dominichino  ;  the  Slaughter 
ff  the  Innocentay  by  Guido  ; '  the 
Descent  of  the  Crossy  by  Sebastiano 
del  Piombo,  as  sketched  by  Mi- 


chael Angelo ;  the  Trantfiguration^ 
of  Raphael  ;  the  Last  Judgment^ 
of  Michael  Angelo  ;  and  ihc  Ltut 
Supper^  by  Leonardo  da  VincL 
The  first  and  second  of  these,  to- 
gether with  the  Transfiguration, 
they  succeeded  in  transporting  to 
the  Louvre  ;  the  others,  being  io 
fresco,  they  could  not  remove. 
But,  in  the  barbarous  attempt,  the 
Last  Supper,  and  the  Descent  of 
the  Cross  were  ruined.  M. 


BIOGRAPHY. 

LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BENTLEY,  D.  D. 

Late  Regiuf  Prcfettor  of  Divinity,  and  Matter  of  Trinity  College,  Cambriii^,  Erf. 
[Continaed  from  pac^  4' 4] 

'^  ^  S  T  A.        PLATO,  de  L€gfc.  m 


TO  return  to  Johnson.  While 
he  was  censuring  another  writer 
for  egotisms^  he  should  have  ex- 
cluded them  more  carefully  from 
his  preface,  in  which  the  de  se 
dicta  are  infinitely  too  numerous. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  part  of 
these  remarks,  for  he  afterwards 
continued  them,  though  in  a  less 
elaborate  manner,  through  the  rest 
of  Horace's  works,  he  published  a 
stanza  of  an  old  English  ballad, 
with  English  annotations,  in  the 
style  of  Bentley.  There  is  some 
drollery  in  these  remarks,  but  they 
never  can  diminish  the  value  of  his 
criticisms.  Mr.  Addison's  tragedy 
of  Cato  was  once  burlesqued,*  and 
Gray's  Elegy  in  a  country  church- 
yard has  been  frequently  parodied. 
Homer  and  Virgil  have  been  tra- 
yestied  ;  yet  surely  no  reader  ever 
perused  these  authors  with  less 
pleasure  on  this  account.  The 
test  of  truth  t  will  never  be  found 
in  ridicule. 

These  remarks  were  highly  ex- 
tolled by  Bentley's  enemies,  and 

•  See  Wilkes'  History  of  the  Stage. 
I  See  Johnson's  lives. 


acquired  their  author  some  repti- 
tat  ion .  He  had  already  introduced 
himself  to  the  learned  world,  by 
his  "Grammatical  Commentaries," 
which  were  notes  on  Lilly's  Gram- 
mar, published  in  1706,  in  English. 
He  was  a  very  accurate  grammar- 
ian, and  investigated  authorities 
with  uncommon  perseverance.  As 
a  critick,  he  was  able  to  judge  with 
accuracy  of  theLatinity  of  a  phrase, 
but  he  was  very  deficient  of  taste, 
that  rare  qualification,  which  is  so 
essential  in  the  formation  of  a  sound 
critick.  The  style  of  his  commen- 
taries is  beneath  criticism,  at  once 
vulgar  and  pedantick.  Those  who 
have  read  his  book,  without  any 
knowledge  of  the  time  in  which  he 
lived,  will  scarcely  believe  that  he 
was  contemporary  with  Addison, 
and  lived  in  the  Augustan  age^f 
English  literature. 

In  1716  or  1717,  Bentley  was 
elected  Regius  Professor  of  Divini- 
ty at  Cambridge,  and  soon  after 
preached  before  his  Majesty.  The 
sermon  was  published.  The  at- 
tack on  it,  and  the  answer,wehavc 
already  mentioned.     But  this  and 


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LIVE   OF   BSNTLST. 


455 


Johnaon's  jirUtarchtu  Anti'BcntUi' 
anusy  vere  not  the  only  source  of 
uneasiness  which  opened  upon  him 
in  the  year  1717.  He  found  him- 
self involved  in  a  dispute  with  the 
University,  about  the  fees  which 
were  usually  paid  by  Doctors  of 
Divinity  on  their  creation.  He 
was  likewise  accused  of  contempt 
towards  the  Vice-Chancellor. 

This  dispute  originated  in  Octo- 
ber, on  the  day  after  his  Majesty's 
visit  to  the  University,  when  sever- 
al Doctors  in  Divinity,  who  had 
been  named  by  the  royal  mandate, 
attended  at  the  senate  house  to  re- 
ceive their  degrees.  Dr.  Bentley, 
on  creation,  demanded  four  guineas 
from  each,  besides  the  broad  piece, 
which  was  the  usual  present  on 
such  occaMons.  A  warm  dispute 
ensued,  but  on  his  absolutely  re- 
fusing to  create  those  who  would 
not  give  the  extraordinary  fee,  Dr. 
Middleton  and  some  others  agreed 
to  pay  the  money,  upon  condiuon 
that  the  Professor  should  return 
it,  whenever  it  was  declared  by  the 
Xing,  or  by  any  authority  delegat- 
ed from  him,  that  the  demand  was 
illegal.  Those  who  refused  to 
acquiesce  to  this  proposal  he  would 
not  create  doctors* 

The  affair  was  laid  before  the 
Duke  of  Somerset,  who  was  Chan- 
cellor of  the  University,  and  pro- 
mised to  take  cognizance  of  the 
affair,  if  it  was  not  soon  settled. 
Dr.  Bentley,  however,  still  insisted 
upon  his  claim,  but  at  last  was  con- 
tented with  a  promissory  note  from 
several  of  them,  by  which  they  en- 
gaged to  pay  the  fee,  if  the  dispute 
was  determined  in  his  fiavour,  and 
even  without  money  or  bond  he 
submitted  to  create  one  of  the 
King's  doctors. 

As  the  Chancellor  had  declared 
against  this  new  fee,  and  as  Dr. 
E^ntley  had  created  some  doctors, 
without  cither  fee  or  Dote>  Dr. 


Middleton  thotight  himself  entitled 
to  demand  the  return  of  his  four 
guineas,  although  neither  the  sen- 
timents of  the  King,  nor  of  his 
lawyers,  had  pronounced  the  Pro- 
fessor's claim  unjust. 

Bentley  refused  to  give  back  the 
money  ;  Dr.  Middleton  sent,  and 
then  called  :  but  the  message  and 
the  visit  proved  equally  fruitless. 
He  next  obtained  a  decree  from 
the  Vice-Chancellor,  and  a  known 
enemy  of  the  Professor  was  sent 
on  September  23d,  to  arrest  his 
person  :  either  through  mistake 
oif  design,  however,  the  decree  was 
left  at  Trinity  Lodge,  and  the  or- 
ders of  the  Vice-Chancellor  were 
not  executed.  On  Wednesday,  the 
first  of  October,  another  beadle  ar- 
rested him,  and  the  Doctor,  though 
he  refused  to  obey  it  at  first,  put  in 
bail,  and  the  following  Friday  was' 
appointed  for  the  day  of  trial. 

Dr.  Bentley  did  not  appear,  but 
sent  his  proctor.  Dr.  Middleton 
obtained  permission  of  the  court 
to  appoint  another  proctor  for  him- 
self, who  accused  the  Professor  of" 
contempt,  for  not  appearing.  The 
beadle  who  went  with  the  first  de- 
cree was  examined,  and  a  com- 
plaint was  made  out  of  his  ill  usage 
at  Trinity  Lodge.  Among  other 
things  it  appeared  that  the  Doctor 
had  said,  "  I  will  not  be  concluded 
by  what  the  Vice-Chancellor  and 
two  or  three  of  his  friends  shall 
determine  over  a  bottle.'* 

His  words  were  accounted  crim- 
inal, and  Dr.  Bentley  was  suspend- 
ed by  the  Vice-Chancellor  from  all 
his  degrees,  without  citation,  with- 
out hearing,  without  notice,  who 
declared  that  he  would  vacate  the 
Divinity  Professorship  in  a  few 
days,  if  he  did  not  make  humble^ 
submission. 

For  several  years  the  affair  re- 
mained in  this  situation.  During 
this  time  several  pamphlets  werei 


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4S6 


Lt9B  ov  smKTLtr. 


pnblifbdi.  Of  tbdit  agaiost  the 
Professor,  Dr.Middleton,  who  muil 
have  £3lt  the  most  onbouiuicd  ex* 
ttltaden  on  the  degradation  of  hii 
enemy,  Dr.  Bentley,  Was  the  prin* 
cipal  author.*  These  are  spright* 
iy  and  well  written,  but  /acts  are 
odMtinate  antagonUu.  The  names 
of  the  writers  who  answered  him, 
and  took  the  opposite  side?  we  have 
never  heard,  though  one  of  them 
is  pointed  out  hy  Middleton,  who 
began  his  literary  career  in  this 
€li^ute,t  and  now  first  started  in<* 
to  pubUck  notice,  as  the  action 
^  which  he  commenced  for  the 
recovery  of  his  money  gave  the  first 
motion  to  thi»  famous  proceeding." 
During  this  suspense,  it  might 
be  supposed,  that  Bentiey,  degrad- 
ed from  his  honours,  would  have 
lost  his  relish  for  his  classical  pur- 
■uits,  and  have  found  his  spirits 
damped  and  courage  sunk.  But 
this  was  for  from  being  the  case  : 
he  gave  no  opportunity  to  his  ene* 
xiies  to  exclaim, 

••Qualb  erat  I  Qaaittum  nmtatai  ab  Ilo  P* 

He  ceased  to  be  Doctor  ofDivinity, 
indeed,  but  he  never  ceased  to  be 
bentley  I  The  University  stripped 
him  of  his  degrees,  but  they  could 
Hot  tear  from  him  that  conscious 
dignity  of  character,  which,  in  all 
Ms  disputes,  proved  a  firm  and 
certain  support. 

He  still  continued  to  bestow  bis 
attention  and  leisure  time  on  hi^ 
long-ppomised  and  long  expected 
edition  of  the  Greek  Testament. 
About  the  year  1721,  he  published 
bia  piH>posals9  which  consisted  of 
figbt  articles.  To  these  he  added 
the  last  chapter  of  the  Apocalypse, 
i|uth  a  Latin  v,ersion,  and  the  va« 

*  For  a  list  of  them  see  Gouge's  Brit- 
ish T^pegraphy,  vol.  I.  p.  244.  Thiiiby 
also  wrote  agfainst  Bentley. 

fin  one  ot  his  pamphlets  he  styles 
kiowetf  m  mtfkor  not  ut§d  u  thefirtt^. 


fious  readings  of  hit  ttanoBcripCs 
in  the  notes. 

In  this  edition  Bentley  intended 
to  have  re-^blisbed  the  Latin  ver* 
sion  of  St.  Hierom,  who  asserts 
that  a  literal  translation  from  Greek 
into  Latin  is  only  necessary  in  the 
scriptures,  whert  the  very  order  of 
the  vf^de  u  mystery.  From  this 
passage  our  critick  inferred,  wbit 
on  examination  he  found  to  be 
true,  that  on  comparison  the  ex« 
actest  resemblance  would  be  found 
between  the  original  text  and  this 
translation.  He,  therefore,  deter- 
mined to  publish  tliem  together. 

He  proposed  to  confirm  his  Ice-* 
dons,  by  exhibitinc;  the  various 
reading  of  manuscripts  and  trans^ 
lalions.  He  altered  not  a  single 
word  without  authority.  He  ol^ 
£ered  no  changes  in  the  text,  ex- 
cept in  his  Frologomena,  He  a# 
dopted  the  mode  of  publishing  hy 
subscriptiim,  on  account  of  the 
great  expenses  that  must  attend 
tlie  printing  of  such  a  work.  It 
was  to  have  made  two  volumes  in 
folio,  and  the  price  was  to  have 
been  three  guineas  for  the  smaller 
paper,  and  five  for  the  larger.  Mr. 
John  Walker,  of  Trihity  College,* 
was  to  have  corrected  the  {m^ss, 
and  to  have  shared  the  profits  or 
loss  of  the  edition  with  Bentley. 

Iq  one  patt  of  these  proponla 
he  says  of  himself :  ^^  In  this  work 
he  is  of  no  seU  or  party  ;  his  de- 
sign is  to  serve  the  whole  christian 
name  ;  he  draws  no  consequence* 
in  his  notes,  makes  no  obiiquo 
giances  upon  any  disputed  pc^s, 
old  or  new.  He  consecrates  tl^ 
work,  as  a  Kiv«*jiw,  a  Kinve*  •«<«, 
a  Chmrtery  a  Magna  Charta  to  the 
whole  Christian  Church,  to  lart 
when  all  the  ancient  manuscxipta 


•  The  Vicc-Master  ofTrinity  CoIlMfe, 
whom  Pope  introduced  with'BenUey 
into  the  Dvnoisd. 


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UtM  et  BENTlEY. 


4sr 


here  quoted  may  be  lost  and  ex« 
tinguished." 

Such  were  the  views  of  Dr.  Bent- 
leji  and  such  were  his  wishes  with 
regard  to  his  edition  of  the  Greek 
Testament.  He  found,  howerer, 
an  opponent  in  Middleton,  who  had 
already,  in  a  great  measure,  been 
the  cause  of  reducing  him  to  the 
^tuation  of  the  lowest  member  of 
the  University.  He  published  an 
answer  to  the  proposals,  paragraph 
by  paragraph.  He  was  instigated 
to  publish  this  answer,  he  says,  by 
a  thorough  conviction,  that  Bent* 
ley  possessed  neither  materiaU  nor 
abUitiee  adequate  to  the  execution 
of  so  important  a  design. 

This  pamphlet  was  published  at 
a  period  when  the  name  of  Bentley 
had  lost  part  of  its  dignity.  This 
may,  in  some  measure,  account 
for  its  success,  which  was  wonder- 
ful, and,  in  our  opinion,  far  above 
iu  deserts.  It  is  well  written,  in- 
deed, and  sometimes  weighty  in 
argument ;  but  still  he  frequently 
refines  too  much,  and  does  not 
treat  his  adversary  with  candour 
or  propriety. 

An  answer  was  published  to 
these  remarks,  which  was  attribut- 
ed to  Bentley,  and  several  pamph- 
lets were  published  on  both  sides 
of  the  question.  The  event  was, 
that  he  gave  up  his  design^  It 
were  an  endless  task  to  pursue  the 
disputes  through  all  the  pamphlets, 
-which  were  published  on  the  oc- 
casion. We  must  not,  however, 
omit  that  Dr.  Colbatch  was  sup- 
posed to  be  the  author  of  thtjirsi 
remarkt,  and  was  stigmatized  in 
tlie  answer,  which  was  published 
with  the  second  edition  of  the  pro- 
posal. Upon  this  attack,  he  pub- 
Uckly  declared,  that  they  were 
written  without  his  concurrence 
and  knowledge,  and  the  Vice-Chan" 
cellor  and  heads  pronounced  the 
answer  to  the  remarks  a  virulent 
and  scandalous  libel. 
VolUI.Jfo.9.    3K 


Bentley  never  assigned  any  rea- 
sons for  declining  the  publication 
of  bis  Greek  Testament.  All  who 
contributed  to  this  event  certainly 
injured  the  cause  of  sacred  litera- 
ture in  the  highest  degree.  The 
completion  of  his  design  was  the 
principal  employment  of  his  latter 
life ;  and  his  nephew,  Dr.  Thomas 
Bentley,  travelled  through  Europe, 
at  his  expense,  in  order  to  collate 
every  manuscript  that  was  acces* 
sible. 

Middleton  was  not  the  only 
champion  who  attacked  our  litera- 
ry Goliah  in  1721.  Alexander 
Cuninghame,  in  the  same  year, 
published  animadversions  on  the 
edition  of  Horace.  A  cold,  cross 
critick,  of  northern  extraction,  with 
little  genius  ;  ill-natured  and  for- 
bidding ;  correct,  but  spiritless. 
He  dedicated  his  l30ok  to  Bentley 
himself ,but  with  such  a  marked  air 
of  imagined  superiority,  that  it  is 
absolutely  disgusting.  Let  it  not» 
however,  be  supposed,  that  we  al- 
low him  no  merit.  We  think  that 
he  was  an  opponent  of  much  great- 
er consequence,  than  any  who  pre- 
ceded him  ;  but  his  decisive  mode 
of  stating  his  objections,  and  offer- 
ing his  own  emendations,  though 
it  might  attract  a  few  admirers,  yet 
it  must  be  condemned  by  the  learn- 
ed world  in  general.  Sometimes^ 
indeed,  he  improves  greatly  upon 
Bentley,  and  in  one  of  the  passages, 
which  we  formerly  quoted,  he 
would  read  £8tuatque^  instead  of 
ejus  atgncy  which  is  certainly  moro 
poetical  and  better  than  cxeatgucy 
though,  perhaps,  not  so  near  the 
reading  of  the  manuscripts.  His 
corrections,  indeed,  are  frequently 
valuable,  but,  as  a  writer,  he  is  very 
deficient  in  that  strength,  that  vi- 
gour, and  that  liveliness  of  fancy, 
which  renders  the  critical  works 
of  Bentley  and  Toup  so  entertain- 
ing, as  well  as  so  instructive. 
7b  be  continued. 


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458 


ACCOUNT   or   TRB   FALLS  OF   NIAGARA. 


NATURAL  HISTORY. 

For  the  Anthology. 

EXTRACTS  FROM  A  JOURNAL,  &C.  CONTIStEO. 


Monday.,  Se/iC,  2.... What  have 
I  heard  ?  What  have  I  felt  ?  What 
have  I  seen  ?  A  noise,  equal  to 
the  seven  thunders,  heard  by  St. 
John  in  the  spirit,  accompanied 
with  a  perpetual  earthquake,  and 
a  mighty  rushing  wind  ;  a  wonder, 
to  which  the  sun  in  his  course 
through  the  heavens, beholds  noth- 
ing Buperiour...the  cataract  of  Nia- 
gara. 

After  breakfast  we  started  from 
Chippeway  on  foot.  The  bank  of 
the  great  river  is  here  not  more 
than  four  or  five  feet  above  the 
water  ;  but,  in  our  course  towards 
the  falls,  it  appears  gradually  to 
rise  to  fifty  feet  and  trpwards.  The 
land,  on  which  the  road  runs,  is 
perhaps  a  perfect  level ;  of  course 
this  high  bank  shews  the  descent 
of  the  river  ia  its  course  of  two 
liiiles  before  arriving  at  the  im- 
itiense  precipice.  About  one  mile 
from  Chippeway  commence  the 
rapids,  extending  across  the  river 
above  half  a  mile  ;  immediately 
below,  it  narrows  and  its  surface  is 
liiuch  agitated,  although  no  rocks 
appear  above  the  water.  This  is 
indeed  a  very  beautiful  view. 

Here,  where  a  small  part  of  the 
Stream  is  divided  from  the  rest  by 
a  little  island,  fast  on  the  bank  of 
the  river,  man  has  adventureil  to 
erect  mills,  "  scooped  out  an  em- 
pire, and  usurp'd  the  tide."  A 
few  rods  lower,  in  a  similar  situa- 
tion, is  the  oldest  mill  in  Canada. 
At  all  other  falls,  I  have  ever  seen, 
the  labours  of  man  have  tended  to 
diminish  the  effect  on, the  eye  and 
the  mind  ;  but  here  the  consequen- 
ces of  his  mightiest  efforts  have  so 
little  influence  on  the  whole,  tlKit 
we  are  convinced  of  the  ntajesty  of 


the  stream,  and  that  it  will  forever 
scorn  the  confinements  of  art. 

About  two  and  a  half  miles  down 
we  turn  from  the  road,  and,  des- 
cending a  winding  foot  path  in  the 
precipitous  bank  of  clay,  come  to 
the  level  of  the  river  ;  and,  after 
walking  over  a  flat,  coTcrcd  with 
thick  bushes  and  constantly  wet  by 
the  spray,  arrive  at  Table  rock. 
Just  before  leaving  the  road,  we 
had  seen  the  little  fells,  a  sight, 
worthy  of  a  thousand  miles  jour- 
ney ;  but  we  are  now  close  to  the 
main  body  of  this  indescribable 
cataract.  Table  rock  is  level  with 
the  edge  of  the  falls,  and  only  seven 
or  eight  rods  distant.  Here  is,  m 
the  stillest  season,  a  constant  gen- 
tle breeze,  agitating  the  leaves  of 
the  bushes,  while  they  arc  continu- 
ally refreshed  by  the  spray.  On 
our  hands  and  knees  we  creep  to 
the  edge  pf  this  rock,  and  are  struck 
with  horrour  at  beholding  nothing 
to  support  us.  Our  guide  carries 
us  a  rod  or  two  north,  as  the  river 
runs,  and  shews  qs  the  rock,  on 
which  we  walked  so  firmly,  whicb 
is  only  three  feet  thick,  and  seems 
to  hang  in  the  air,  perhaps  one 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  or  more  from 
the  bottom.  One  of  our  party  swore 
he  never  would  go  on  it  again. 

Leaving  this  spot,  we  reascend 
to  the  level  of  the  road,  and  walk 
half  a  mile  through  fields,  clothed 
with  the  most  luxuriant  grass,  to 
a  ladder,  called,  by  Volney,  Sim- 
cbe's,  but  it  has  not  usually  that 
or  any  other  name.  This  ladder 
is  perpendicular,  and,  as  it  is  affix- 
ed to  an  overhanging  tree  at  the 
top,  seems  very  dangerous,  but 
others  had  been  before  iia,  and  we 
descend  with  €ourage>.  which  we 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


ACCOUNT   OF   THE   FALLS   OF    NIAGARA. 


459 


should  never  exercise  at  any  other 
place,  than  Niagara.  At  the  foot 
of  the  ladder  we  find  we  have  not 
descended  half  way  to  the  water's 
edge  ;  and  here  and  all  the  way 
up  to  the  great  falls,  we  have  to 
climb  over  crags  of  every  variety 
of  shape  and  size. 

The  little  falls  are  opposite  to 
the  ladder,  but  we  neither  hear  nor 
see  any  thing,  but  the  immense 
horse  shoe  we  are  approaching. 
Between  the  two  falls  is  Goat  island, 
presenting  on  the  north  side  a  per- 
pendicular wall  of  equal  height 
with  the  cataracts  on  each  side. 
The  bank  on  the  west  side  of  the 
river,  under  which  we  now  were,  is 
perpendicular,  but,as  we  approach 
the  sheet  of  water,  it  becomes  hol- 
low, and  thus,  say  the  traveller's 
conjectures,  is  it  continued  the 
whole  width  of  the  falls,  making  a 
cavern,  terrifick  as  incalculable  ejt- 
tent,  uniUuminated  vacuity,  and  e- 
temal  roar  can  make  it.  The  water 
above,  having  acquired  a  powerful 
impetus,  shoots  in  a  curvilinear  di- 
rection, and  thus  the  hollow  space 
is  increased.  Into  this  abyss  we 
all  attempt  to  penetrate.  The  spray 
is  here  condensed  into  large  drops, 
and  the  strong  gusts  of  wind  drive 
it  like  shot,  so  that  we  involuntarily 
bend  our  heads.  We  were  nearly 
wet  through  before,  but  are  now 
instantaneously.  We  can  hardly 
consent  to  leave  this  seemingly 
dangerous,  and  enchanting  spot. 

Oh  the  rocks  I  find  a  skull  of 
Bome  animal,  and  bones  of  others, 
"which  have  come  over  the  fall  ; 
also  something,  which  Weld  calls 
petrified  spray  or  froth,  adhering 
to  the  rocks  in  various  states  of  in- 
duration. This  substance  is  often 
no  harder  than  lumps  in  West- 
India  sugar,  but  is  tasteless. 

When  viewing  the  Horse  shoe 
fall,  travellers  are  always  dissatisfi- 
ed at  its  apparent  height ;  but  this 


results  from  its  immense  breadth, 
and  perhaps  half  is  always  invisi- 
ble, on  account  of  the  mist,  rising 
from  below.  If  from  Table  rock, 
or  at  the  landing  place  by  the  lad- 
der, or  at  any  place  between  these, 
we  look  down,  or  if  from  below  we 
view  the  precipice  above,  and  re- 
flect, that  this  awful  rock  is  no 
higher  than  the  cataract,  we  be- 
come easy  in  a  moment.  In  the 
morning  or  evening  I  suppose  the 
centre  of  the  crescent,  or  horse 
shoe,  cannot  be  seen  for  the  spray, 
not  even  from  Table  rock  ;  but 
when  the  wind  blows  this  away,  we 
behold  at  least  half  the  height. 

A  small  part,  perhaps  fifteen  feet 
in  vndth,  is  separated  from  the 
little  fall,  and  adds  much  to  the 
efi'ect.  We  almost  wish  there  were 
no  horse  shoe  fall,  as  this  is  viewed 
from  the  head  of  the  ladder  ;  but 
when  a  little  higher  up,  the  great 
fall,  which  is  much  the  greater  di- 
vision of  the  river,  opens  upon  us, 
the  inferiour  fall  appears,  only  like 
the  puny  infant  of  a  vigorous  sire. 

After  refreshing  ourselves  with 
some  port  wine  and  bread,  two  of 
our  party  were  so  wearied  with 
magnificence  and  wet  cloaths,  as 
to  depart  for  home.  B-— and  my- 
self revisited  Table  rock  with  less 
fear,  and  viewed  more  closely  the 
tremendous  fall.  It  was  now  about 
one  o'clock.  Below  us  we  saw  a 
rainbow  of  transcendent  splendour. 
The  ends  were  nearly  under  our 
feet,  and  the  top  of  the  arch  reach- 
ed more  than  half  a  mile,  just  en- 
croaching on  the  foot  of  the  little 
falls.  We  then  walked  into  the 
river,  and  stood  just  under  a  fall  of 
about  three  feet,  drank  of  the 
stream,  and  washed  on  the  top  of 
this  rock  in  water,  ready  to  pour  in 
half  a  minute  over  the  precipice 
into  the  vast  profound. 

Here  we  o^erved  a  small  bird, 
perched  on  a  rock  in  the  stream. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


460 


ACCOUNT  or   THE  FALLS  OV   NIAGARA. 


nearer  the  fall  than  any  human 
being  would  venture.  We  threw 
stones  at  him,  and  remarked  the 
horrour,  with  which  he  looked  to- 
wards the  chasm.  After  several 
flights  in  circles,  he  was  obliged  to 
approach  us  to  avoid  greater  dan- 
ger. 

We  returaed  and  changed  our 
dress  ;  and,  after  breathing,  I  can 
now  relate  a  story  or  two,  told  by 
our  guide.  Below  the  rapids,  in 
the  middle  of  the  stream,  is  form- 
ed a  shallow,  part  of  wliich  is  cov- 
cred  with  grass.  To  this  deer 
sometimes  swim  with  the  current, 
but  can  never  return.  The  poor 
creatures  are  swept  away  by  the 
stream,  and  their  carcases  are 
found  at  the  foot  of  the  falls.  But 
every  thing  is  not  lodged  near  the 
falls  below.  Only  six  weeks  ago 
an  Indian  squaw,  drowned  at  Chip- 
peway,  was  found  at  Queenstown, 
seven  or  eight  miles  below  the  ca- 
taract, with  only  her  neck  and  thigji 
broken.  * 

On  returning  to  dinner,  we  found 
that  Chippeway  bridge  had  broken 
through  during  our  absence.  This 
we  crossed  yesterday  ;  but  if  we 
had  fallen  through,  as  there  is  no 
current  perceptible  in  this  inferiour 
river,  we  might  perhaps  have  es- 
caped being  shown  at  Queenstown. 

After  (finner  we  tackled  our 
waggon  and  drove  towards  the  fidls, 
stopping  at  a  house,  which  ought 
to  be  a  tavern.  We  did  not  visit 
Table  rock,as  we  wished  not  to  wet 
our  clean  cloaths  ;  but  we  walked 
down  the  fields  to  the  head  of  the 

ladder,  and  T went  down.     We 

enjoyed  Very  fine  views,  and  re- 
solved on  a  grand  expedition  to  be 
<>nce  more  wet  through  to-morrow. 

7W«^ay.... Re  viewed  the  scenes 
of  yesterday.  Our  first  visit  was 
to  Table  rock,  in  which  we  observ- 
ed a  small  crack,  and  we  speculat- 


ed on  it  with  unreasonable  fear,  for 
it  cannot  run  deep.  This  &mous 
rock  projects  nine  or  ten  feet,  and 
is  of  uniform  thickness.  Its  im- 
mense supporter  is  hollowed  grad- 
ually, and  a  line  dropped  from  the 
edge  of  the  rock  would  be,  I  think* 
forty  or  fifty  feet  from  the  centre 
of  the  concave. 

Once  more  we  descend  the  lad- 
der and  approach  the  horrid  va- 
cuity behind  the  sheet  of  water. 
Within  eight  rods  of  the  cataraft 
is  a  collection  of  sulphur,  deposited 
on  the  side  of  the  rock  by  a  little 
stream,  percolating  this  bed  of 
limestone.  This  is  nearly  under 
Table  rock,  which,  if  it  should  now 
break  off  from  its  stock,  would  fall 
without  the  path,  and  only  endan- 
ger us  by  the  pieces,  into  which  it 
must  fly  on  striking  the  bottom. 
But  indeed  there  is  no  danger.  The 
water  once  poured  over  this  rock, 
and  it  should  then  have  yielded  to 
the  immense  pressure. 

Very  strong  and  cold  gasts  of 
wind  blow  perpetually  put  of  the 
cavern,  accompanied  with  rain,  so 
thick,  as,  when  a  person  is  near,  to- 
tally to  intercept  the  sight.  Here 
we  all  stop,  and  each  runs  as  &r 
as  possible  into  this  viewless  and 
horrible  abyss.  I  almost  despaired 
of  ever  seeing  T—  again,  so  vio- 
lent was  the  beating  of  the  wind 
and  the  rain  ;  yet  he  could  not  have 
been  absent  from  where  I  stood 
piore  than  two  minutes. 

We  afterwards  went  to  the  shore 
as  near,  where  the  water  strikes 
the  rock  after  its  fall,  as  possible. 
Here  is  a  great  spray,  and  the  roar 
is  really  stupifying.  But  if  we 
look  upwards,  the  view  of  the  sun 
beams,  gleaming  through  the  drops 
broken  off  from  the  sheet  of  water, 
and  these  drops  so  near  as  to  strike 
at  last  in  our  faces,  is  truly  en* 
chanting.  We  climbed  a  crag, 
broken  from  above,  on* which  it 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


Racine's  brit'annicu^. 


461 


jsefcmed  impossible  to  remain,  for 
the  whole  ocean  seems  falling  on 
our  heads  ;  but  it  does  not  quite 
reach  us>  and  we  are  only  refresh- 
ed by  the  plentiful  dashing  of  the 
water  below.  But  here  no  one 
feels  uncomfortable  from  the  wet, 
and  nobody  ever  here  took  a  cold. 

The  Horse  shoe  fall  resembles 
rather  a  sickle,  and  in  what  seems 
the  handle  near  Goat  island,  close 
to  the  very  edge  of  the  precipice, 
are  several  loose  rocks,  that  must 
come  down  in  a  few  months.  I 
am  very  sure,  that  yesterday  I 
heard  the  crash  of  a  rock,  carried 
over  the  falls,  or  a  part  of  the  pre- 
cipice broken  away.  This  was  just 
on  -my  arrival  at  the  foot  of  the 
ladder. 

At  the  distance  of  an  eighth  of 
a  mile,  on  the  shore  of  the  river 
below  the  falls,  one  may  have  a 
very  fine  view.     Stoop  downwards, 


with  your  back  towards  the  catar- 
act, and  look  up  at  the  top  of  it. 
There  seems  to  be  nothing  above. 
It  pours  from  the  very  battlements 
of  heaven,  or  resembles  the  re- 
storation of  chaos.  Look  again, 
and  you  behold  trees,  which  your 
amazement  forbade  you  to  see  be- 
fore, growing  out  of  the  very  edge 
of  the  cataract  in  the  deepest  part. 
The  deception  is  admirable,  and, 
J  think,  unequalled  by  any  vagary 
of  nature.  But  these  trees  are 
nearly  a  mile  distant  on  the  high 
banks  of  the  river,  whose  course 
thence  to  the  precipice  is  nearly 
crooked,  as  a  semi-circle.  Any 
one  will  easily  believe  what  Gold- 
smith soberly  says,  that  these  falls 
are  a  great  interruption  to  naviga- 
tion, though  it  is  doubtful  whether 
any  would  follow  the  Indians,  who, 
l^e  says,  have  passed  down  safejy 
in  their  canoes. 


CRITICISM. 

Trantlated  for  the  Anthology  from  the  Court  de  Literature  of  La  Harpe. 
[Continoed  from  page  348.3 


Nkro,  now  sure  of  the  love 
of  Junia  for  Britannicus,  meditates 
nothing  but  vengeance  and  crimes. 
He  orders  his  brother  to  be  arrest- 
ed ;  he  places  guards  over  his  own 
mother,  and  perceiving,  by  a  con- 
versation with  her,  that  the  rights 
of  Britanmcus  to  the  empire  may 
be  employed  as  an  arm  against 
him,  he  hesitates  not  a  moment, 
and  gives  orders  to  poison  him. 
But  how  !  With  what  odious  cold 
^lood  and  what  studied  villany  ! 
It  is  by  appearing  to  reconcile  him- 
self Mith  Agrippina  and  Britanni- 
cus ;  by  lavishing  his  caresses,  sub- 
missions, and  embraces  ;  and  by 
representing  in  his  palace  a  scene 
of  filial  tenderness. 

Guards !  oibty  the  ordertof  my  mother. 


Qardt  !  tftCon  obeUse  aux  ordres  de  ma 
mere. 

In  this  manner  he  prepares  himr 
self  for  a  fratricide. 

And  this  is  that  policy  of  cor- 
rupt courts,  of  which  Comeille  af- 
fected to  treat  so  often  ;  but  here 
it  is  in  action,  and  not  in  words  ; 
that  is  to  say,  it  is  in  theatrical  re- 
presentation the  same  thing  as  it 
is  in  reality  ;  it  is  the  perfection  of 
the  art.  Nero  conducted  no  other- 
wise than  Charles  the  Ninth.  A-r 
grippina  had  scarcely  left  hin)) 
when  his  dissimulated  rage  could 
no  longer  contain  itself:  he  thinks 
himself  sure  of  Burrhus,  because 
Agrippina  is  discontented  with 
him  ;  and  it  is  before  a  virtuous 
man,  that  he  avows  the  project  gf 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


4«3 


ILACIVS'S  BIUTAKKICK 


a  crime)  and  tbat  crime  is  poisbo- 

ing. 

She  is  too  much  m  haate,  Barrhoi,  to 

'  triumph, 
X  embrtce  my  rival,  but  it  U  to  strangle 

him. 
...  It  is  too  much  :  his  ruin 
Must  deliver  me  forever  from  the  furies 

ofAl^ppina. 
As  long  as  he  breathes,  I  live  but  by 

halves  ; 
She  has  disgusted  me  with  the  name  of 

my  enemy, 
And  1  will  not  endure  her  |;uilty  as- 
surance 
Xn  promising  him  a  second   time  my 

place, 
before  the  close  of   this  day  I  wiU 

dread  him  no  more. 

£lle  te  khe  trop,  Burrhut,de  triumpkcr, 
y*  emhrasse  mon  rival,  maii  c^eit  pour 

Cttouffer. 
.  .  .  C*en  ut  trop  :  it  f  out  que  ta  mine 
Me  delivre  a  jamais  det  fwrtvart  d^A^p- 

pine. 
Tant  cpi^il  respirera^je  ne  w  ^w'i  demi  / 
Elie  nCafatigui  de  ce  nom  ennenUf 
£t  je  ne  pretend  pas,  que  ia  coupablg  au' 

dace 
Une  eeeondefoie  lui  promette  ma  place. 
Jvant  la  Jin  du  jour,  je  ne  le  craindrai 

plus. 

To  speak  thus  to  Durrhus,  is  to 
ehcw  the  whole  character  of  Nero. 
None  but  a  consummate  villain 
jcan,  without  blushing,  shew  him- 
self as  he  is,  before  an  honest  man  ; 
it  is  a  proof  that  he  has  surmount- 
ed every  thing, even  his  conscience. 
Other  villains  takeoff  the  mask, 
Kmietimes  before  confidants  wor- 
thy of  them  :  none  but  Nero  can 
-unbosom  himself  before  Burrhus. 
This  example  is  singular  on  the 
theatre,  and  it  is  a  trait  of  genius. 
Mahomet  conceals  not  from  Zopi- 
ra  Ills  policy  or  his  ambition  ;  but 
4here  is  a  gftmdeur  in  his  projects, 
priminal  as  they  are  ;  he  hopes  to 
gain  Zopira,  and  he  has  her  in  his 
power.  Here  is  nothing  of  all  this. 
Nero  avows  the  most  cowardly  of 
|iH  crimes,  and  yet  has  no  need  of 
^urrhusto  execute  them.    This 


confidence  without  necessity,  tni 
made  from  the  fulness  of  the 
heart,  would  be,  any  where  else,  a 
great  fault :  here  it  is  a  stroke  of 
the  pencil  of  a  great  master.  It  is 
evident  that  Nero  does  not  believe 
himself  committing  a  crime  ;  in 
his  eyps  it  is  the  most  simple 
thing  in  the  world  to  poison  his 
brother  ;  and  that  which  proves 
this  is,  that  he  is  quite  astonished 
when  Burrhus  disapproves  ;  and 
in  the  following  scene  he  says  to 
Narcissus,  as  the  only  tiling  that 
gives  him  any  hesitation. 

They  will  represent  my  revenge,  as  a 
parricide. 

lU  mettront  ma  vengeance  au  rang  dee 
parricide*. 

These  last  words  are  not  the  words 
of  a  tyrant,  but  of  a  monster. 

Here  commences  that  grand 
spectacle,  so  moral  and  so  dramat- 
ick  ;  that  combat  between  vice  and 
virtue,  under  the  names  of  Nar- 
cissus and  of  Burrhus,  contending 
for  the  soul  of  Nero  ;  and  here  are 
developed  these  two  characters,  as 
perfectly  traced  as  those  of  Nero 
and  of  Agrippina.  Burrhus  ia.the 
model  of  the  conduct,  which  may 
be  held  by  a  virtuous  man,  placed 
by  the  circumstances  of  the  times 
near  a  bad  prince,  and  in  a  deprav- 
ed  court.  He  is  surrounded  by 
passions,  interests,  and  vices,  and 
contends  with  them  all,  on  all 
sides.  He  pronounces  not  a  word 
concerning  virtue,  no  more  than 
Nero  concerning  crimes  ;  but  he 
represents  the  former  in  all  its  pu- 
rity, as  Nero  represents  the  latter 
in  all  their  horrours.  He  resists 
the  restless  ambition  of  Agrippina, 
•  and  the  perversity  of  his  master, 
'  and  speaks  the  truth  to  both,  but 
without  ostentation,  without  brava- 
do, with  a  noble  and  modest  firm- 
ness, not  seeking  to  offend,  and 
not  fearing  to  displease.  He  speaks 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


Racine's  britannicus* 


463 


to  the  one  as  his  cmpcrbur,  and  to 
the  other  as  the  mother  of  Cxsar. 
He  fulfils  all  his  duties,and  observes 
every  decorum.  But  vhen  his 
guilty  pupil  dares  to  discover  his 
horrible  project,  this  man,  hereto- 
fore so  serene,  becomes  all  on  fire : 
his  tranquillity  made  him  great,  his 
indignation  renders  him  sublime. 
Eloquence  in  his  mouth  is  like  tlie 
virtue  in  his  soul,  without  affecta- 
tion, without  effort,  but  full  of  that 
ardour  which  penetrates,  that  truth 
wiiich  overthrows,  and  that  vehe- 
mence which  hurries  away.  He 
affects  even  Nero,  and  comes  out 
'from  his  presence  full  of  hope  and 
of  ioy,to  go  and  consummate  with 
Dritannicus  a  reconciliation,  which 
ke  thinks  sure.  At  this  moment 
enters  Narcissus  :  to  the  pathos, 
to  the  enthusiasm  of  a  candid  soul, 
succeeds  all  the  art  of  turpitude  ^ 
and  wickedness ;  and  in  these  two 
paintings,  contrasted  with  each 
other,  the  author  is  equally  admir- 
able. But  to  place  them  thus,  in 
opposition  to  each  other,  he  .must 
liave  been  well  assured  of  his  ta- 
lents. The  greater  and  more  in- 
fallible the  effect  of  the  former, 
the  more  dangerous  was  the  latter. 
—The  experience  of  the  theatre 
teaches  us  how  much  danger  there 
is  in  the  introduction  of  sentiments, 
which  the  spectator  hates  and  re- 
pels, in  too  quick  a  succession  to 
those,  which  are  delicious  and  dear 
to  him,  and  to  which  he  loves  to 
resign  himself.  This  observation 
does  not  reply  to  the  daring  vil- 
lains who  have  a  certain  energy, 
and  elevation^  but  to  personages 
vile  and  contemptible,  and  Narcis- 
sus is  of  this  number.  These  sorts 
of  characters,  sometimes  necessary 
In  tragedies,  are  very  difficult  to 
manage.  The  spectator  is  willing 
to  hate,  but  he  dislikes  that  con- 
tempt sho'iild  be  added  to  hatred, 
because  contempt  has  nothing  in 


it  tragical.  Voltaire,  in  blaming 
in  this  point  of  view  the  parts  of 
Felix,  of  Prusias,  and  of  Maximus, 
in  Comeille,  quotes  that  of  Nar- 
cissus, as  a  model  to  be  followed, 
when  we  have  occasion  for  person- 
ages of  this  character.  He  ad- 
mires the  scene  of  Narcissus  with 
Nero ;  but  remarking  the  little  ef- 
fect which  it  always  produces,  he 
thinks  it  would  produce  a  greater, 
if  Narcissus  had  more  interest  in 
advising  to  the  crime.  I  know  not 
whether  thii  reflection  is  very  just. 
No  doubt,  if  Narcissus,  to  pursue 
his  course  and  his  object,  had  to 
overcome  some  of  the  sentiments 
of  nature,  like  Felix,  who  deter- 
mined to  put  to  death  his  son-in- 
law  for  fear  of  losing  his  govern^ 
ment,  the  proportion  of  the  means 
would  fail.  But  Narcissus,  who 
endeavours  to  govern  Nero  as  he 
had  governed  Claudius,  by  flatter- 
ing his  passions,  has  no  interest  in 
saving  Britannicus.  According  to 
his  established  Character,  all  means 
must  be  good  in  his  estimation  ; 
he  does  but  follow  his  natural  dis- 
position, which  is  base  and  per- 
verse ;  and  if  the  scene  between 
him  and  Nero,  notwithstanding  the 
perfection  of  it,  is  not  nearly  so 
much  applauded  as  that  of  Burr^^ 
hus,  it  is  because  it  can, in  no  case, 
on  no  supposition,  give  the  sam« 
pleasure  ;  and  I  see  the  reason  ia 
the  human  heart.  The  soul  has 
been  expanding  itself  on  hearing 
Burrhus  ;  it  contracts  and  fade» 
on  seeing  Narcissus.  The  parC 
he  acts  is  one  of  those,  which  can 
only  be  endured,  but  can  never 
please.  Let  us  not  reproach  man- 
kind, when  assembled,with  a  senti- 
ment which  does  them  honour^ 
their  invincible  repugnance  to  ev- 
ery thing  that  is  vile.  These 
characters  ki  the  drama  may  be 
employed  as  means,  but  never  for 
the  effect.     The  greatest  effort  of 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


4di 


RAeiH&'s   B»ITA!»NICU»» 


the  artist  is  to  procure  them  to  be* 
tolerated  on  the  stage,  and  admir- 
ed by  the  connobseur,  who  judges 
only  of  the  execution  ;  and  he  can- 
not accomplish  this  but  by  giving 
them,  in  the  highest  degree,  qual- 
ities, that  may  be  possessed  by  the 
base  and  wicked,  artifice  and  ad- 
dress. This  has  been  done  by  Ra- 
cine in  the  part  of  Narcissus. 
What  an  enterprize  to  bring  back 
Nero,  after  the  impression  he  had 
received,  and  which  the  spectator 
had  so  ardently  shared  !  What  an 
interval  there  is  between  the  mo- 
ment, in  which  he  sends  Burrhus 
to  his  brother  to  consummate  a 
reconciliation,  and  that,  in  which 
he  goes  out  with  Narcissus  to  poi- 
son his  rival !  And  nevertheless, 
such  is  the  detestable  art  of  Nar- 
cissus, or  rather  such  is  the  admi- 
rable art  of  the  poet,  that  this  revi. 
olution,  the  work  of  a  few  minutes, 
appears  probable,  natural,  and  even 
necessary.  The  venom  of  malig- 
nity is  so  ably  prepared,  that  it 
must  penetrate  the  soul  of  the  ty- 
rant, and  infect  it  without  remedy. 
This  astonishing  scene  deserves  to 
be  analyzed. 

Ever}'  thin^  is  prepared  for  so  just  an 

execution  ; 
The  poison  is  all  ready ;    the  famous 

Locusta 
Has  redoubled,  for  me,  her  officious 

cares  ; 
She  has  caused  a  slave  to  expire  in  my 

sight ; 
And  tlie  sword  is  no  less  prompt  to  cut 

off  ft  life, 
Than  this  new  poison,  which  her  hand 

has  entrusted  to  me. 

Seigneur,  tout  ett  pre  ou  pour  une  mort  *i 

juste, 
Le  poison  est  tout  prit  :  lafameuse  Lo» 

custe 
A  redouble  pour  moi  ses  soins  ojfficieux  ; 
Elle  a  fait  expirer  un  esciave  aux  mfs 

yeux  ; 
Et  lefer  eH  moins  prompt  pour  trancher 

une  vie, 
^e  le  nouveau  poison,  que  sa  main  me 

conjie. 


KEao.— Varcisftut,  it  h  enou^  I  lo 

knowledge  your  care  ; 
But  would  not  wish  you  to  go  farther; 

2/arcisse,  c'est  atsez,je  reconnais  ce  swn  / 
Et  ne  souhaitepas  que  vous  alUczplus  luin. 

Narcissus. — tVTiat !  is  your  hatred  to 

Britannicus  so  cooled. 
As  to  forbid  me  !-*^ 

^oi  !  pour  Britannicus  votri  haine  affai* 

blie 
Me  defend  /-» 

Nebo.— Yes,  Narciftsus,  they  have  rec- 
onciled us. 

Oui,  Narcisse,  on  nous  rkoncilie. 

Narcissus. — I  shall  be  very  careful 
not  to  dissuade  you,  ' 

My  lord  ;  but  he  has  seen  himself  some- 
times imprisoned. 

This  oftence,  in  his  heart,  will  lon^  re- 
main fresh. 

There  arc  no  secrets,  which  time  does 
not  reveal 

He  will  be  informed,  that  my  hand  was 
to  have  presented  him 

A  poison,  which  your  orders  hadcaui'd 
to  be  prepared. 

Can  tlie  Gods  turn  his  thoughts  from 
tliis  design  ? 

But  perhaps  he  will  not  hesitate  to  do, 
what  you  dare  not  attempt. 

ye  me  garderai  bien  de  vous  en  detoumnt 
Seigneur;  m,ais  its' est  %m  tantot  emprisoner. 
Cette  offense  en  son  caur  sera  long  tempt 

nou^lle. 
II  n^est  point  de  secrets  que  le  temps  ne  re- 

vele,  • 

//  saura  que  ma  main  lui  devait  pretentfr 
Un  poison  que  votre  ordre  a'ooitfait  apprt- 

ter. 
Les  dieux  de  ce  dessein  puissent-ils  le  dit' 

traire  / 
Mtuspeut-kre  il  fera  ce'  que  vous  ifosn 
faire, 

Nero.— They  answer  for  his  heart,  and 
I  will  conquer  mine. 


Onrepond  de  son  cteur,  et  je  vaincrai  I* 
m4en. 

He  has  already  attacked  Nero  by 
his  fears  :  but  fear  has  not  suc- 
ceeded. He  turns  round  in  a  mo- 
ment and  attacks  him  by  his 
jealousy. 


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aacine's,  britannicus. 


465 


h  fhe  maorlage  of  Jimia  to  b«  the  bond 

of  this  connexion  ? 
My  lord  !  are  you,  moreover,  to  zaake 

tliis  sacrifice  to  him  ? 

Zt  l^hymen  de  yunie  en  est  il  le  lien  ? 
Seigneur  !  luifatto,*  vous  encore  ce  Sacri' 
fee? 

Nero. — You  take  too  much  care  upon 
you  :  however  this  may  be, 

Narcissus,  I  consider  him  no  longer  a- 
mong  my  enemies. 

Cest  prendre  trop  de  ioin  :    quoi  qu^it  en 

soit,  Narcisse, 
ye  ne  le  cvmpte  plus  parmi  met  ennemies. 

This  is  a  critical  moment  for  Nar- 
cissus. Two  attacks  have  already 
been  repulsed.  He  loses  no  time  : 
he  endeavours  now  to  irritate  Nero 
by  the  jealousy  of  power. 

Agrippina,  my  lord,  had  flattered  her- 
self with  the  hope  of  this. 

She  has  reassumed  her  sovereign  em- 
pire over  you. 

^grippine,  teignevr,  ie  Petait  bien  promU. 
Elle  a  reprii  tur  wus  #on  towoerein  empire. 

NERo.-*.What  now  ?  what  has  she  said  ? 
and  what  is  it  you  would  say  ? 

^oi  done  ?  qt^a-t-elle  dit  ?  et  que  voulez 
aire  ?  ^ 

Narcissus. — She  has  boasted  of  it, 
publickly  enough. 

Elle  9^ en  ett  vdntce  atwz  publiquement. 

Nero.— Of  what  ? 


De 


quoi  , 


Narcissu  8. — That  it  was  only  necessa- 
ry for  her  to  See  you  one  moment  j 

That,  to  all  the  great  noise  and  fatal  re- 
sentment, 

A  modest  silence  woidd  be  soon  scea 
to  succeed  ; 

That  you  yourself  would  be  the  first  to 
subscribe  to  a  reconciliation. 

Very  happy  that  her  goodness  would 
condescend  to  forget  all. 

^ttW/ff  n*avait  qu*a  vous  voir  un  moment  / 
^'a  tout  ce  grand  eclat,  a  ce  courrouxfu- 

neste. 
On  f)erraii  wccedtr  vn  siienee  Tnodeste  / 
^  vcus  minu  a  la  pait  sometiriez  le 

premier^ 
Mtureux,  que  sa  bonte  daignat  tout  oublier. 
Vol.  III.  No.  9.  3L 


Nero. — ^But,  Narcissus,  tell-  me  what 
you  would  have  me  do  ? 

Mait,   Narcittus,  dit^moi,  que  veux  tu 
queje  foMe  ? 

Let  us  remark,  in  this  place,  the 
truth  of  the  dialo.^ie  and  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  diction  :  it  is  not  a- 
bove  the  common  style  of  contin- 
ual conversation,  and  it  ought  not, 
indeed,  to  go  beyond  that.  On  one 
side  it  is  a  cool  and  deliberate  \nl- 
lain,  who  thinks  not  of  adorning 
his  language  :  villains  are  rarely 
in  a  passion.  On  the  other  hand, 
a  man,  internally  agitated,  who 
answers  only  by  a  few  painful 
words.  Every  poetick  figure  ought 
to  disappear.  Our  criticks  of  the 
day,  who  affect  to  acknowledge  no 
other  poetry  than  the  passionate 
and  figurative,  would  not  fail,  if 
Racine  was  living,  to  find  him  very 
cold  and  feeble.  What  verses, 
they  would  say,  are  these  ? 

Agrippine,  teigneur,  se  Petait  bienpromii. 
Elle  »*en  est  vantee  astez  publiquement. 
Mais,  Narcisie,  dis  TJioi,  que  veux  tu  que 
jejasse  ? 

Would  any  one  eispress  himself 
otherwise  in  prose  ? 

It  is  precisely  for  this  reason 
that  they  are  excellent  :  because 
they  are  what  they  ought  to  be. 
The  last,  simple  as  it  is,  makes  us 
shudder.  The  tyger  is  about  to 
awake. 

I  have  but  too  much  disposition  to  pun- 
ish her  arrogance  ; 

And  if  I  should  give  way  to  it,  her  in- 
discreet triumph 

Would  be  soon  followed  by  an  eternal 
regret. 

But  what  will  be  the  language  of  the 
whole  universe  ? 

Would  you  draw  me  into  the  broad 
road  of  tyrants  ? 

And  that  Rome,  obliterating  so  many 
titles  to  honour, 

Leave  me  no  better  name^  than  that  of 
a  poisoner  ? 

They  will  place  my  vengeance  in  the 
rank  of  parricides. 


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496 


SI&T^ 


^  w^at  qtie  trop  de  pente  m  ptsli^  mm  tfVr 

dace  ; 
Et,  ii  je  tn*en  croyais,   ce  triamphe  in- 

Sscret 
Strait  bientot  tuivi  d*uyr  etenteFr^rtt. 
Mais^de  tout  fuitivtr*  fuel  ura  U  langa^e  ? 
Sur  lei  pat  det  tyrant  veux  tu  tfue  je 

nCengage  ? 


M$  qm  Mmmr  ffdumt  mm  di  riM* 

d*honneur 
Me  iaiat  pour  nw  nimu,  pshti  ^eikpel- 

sonneitr  T 
He  tnettront  nut  ven^anee  au  rang  de» 

pani^de*. 

[To  be  contmnftd.] 


Par  the  Mwthly  Anthology. 
SILVA. 
Cup'idus  Sylvaru2«. — JwmenaL 


^"0,  1^. 


CCTM&KRLAND. 

THE  memoirs  of  Camberland 
are  an  entertainitig  work.  He  w 
partkularty  happy  m  the  ctescrip- 
fion  of  Irish  manners^  of  which 
the  lb*k)winpf  nswKitive  fe  sittgii- 
larty  iHu9trai»v'e. 

<  A  »hort  tfwie  after  thi«  (says 
fee)  Lord  Eyrer  who  had  a  gi^ae 
passion.  ft>r  dock-ftghtin^,  and 
whose  cocks  were  the  ^rafck  of  alt 
Ireland,  en^^aged  me  in  a  mame 
at  Eyre  Court.  I  was*  a  perfect 
notice  'v^  that  ete^aflt  spiwif ;.  but 
the  gentJemen  from  aH  part^  sent 
me  in  their  contrifciitions,  and  hav- 
ing a  good  feeder,  I  won  ctery 
bo^Pe  in  the  mairte  but  oroew  At 
this  meeting  I  feU  inwi^h  my  he«y 
from  Shannon  bank.  Both  panics 
dfeled  together,  bwt  when  \  fbttftd* 
thaft  mine,  which  waa  the  nwre 
numerous,  infinitely  the  most  ^y- 
atreperousrand  disposed  to<juavrely 
could  no  longer  be  left  in  peace 
with  ouf  amagonfela,  I  quitted  my 
seat  by  Lord  Eyre,  and  weftt  to 
the  gentleman*  above  aHtiddd  to, 
who  was  presiding  at  the  second 
table,  and  seating  myself  familiar- 
ly on  the  arm  x>if  his  chair,  propos- 
sed  to  him  to  adjourn  our  party, 
amd  asseittWe  them*  in  another 
house,  for  the  sake  of  harmony 
and  good  fellowshfp.  With,  the 
best  g^race  in  Ufe  he  irvsta«tly  as- 
sented, and  when  I  added  that  I 
ifhould  put  them  under  his-  care; 
and  expect  from  him  as  a  man  of 


ht^nour  and  nry  friend,  that  every 
mother*s  son  of  them  should  be 
found  forth  coming  and  aHvc  tl>c 
next  morning.  ^  Then, by  the  soul 
of  me,  he  replied,  and  tfiey  shafi ; 
provided  onty  that  no  man  in  com- 
pany shall  dure  to  give  the  gtorione 
amttmntorttri  ment^  for  his  toasf^ 
which  Tify  gentleman,  whty  feels  as 
I  do,  can  put  up  with/  To  thi«r  f 
pledged  myself,  and  we  removed 
to  a  whtskey  house,  atfertded  by 
hatf  a  score  of  pipers,  playirtg*  dif- 
ferent tunes.  Htrc  we  twent  ort 
very  j«)y<*u*i!y  aUd  k>v5*igiy  for  a 
timer  till  a  weH-drcssed  gentleman 
^j^ntered  the  room,  and  ciPwily  ac- 
costing me,  requested  to  partake 
bf  our  festivity,  and  join  tbc  com- 
pany, if  nobody  had  an  objec6on. 
'•  Ah,  now,  dbTkt  be  too  sufe  of 
that,*  a  voice  was  iMtatiOy  Ireard 
to  reply,  *  I  believe  you  wiU  find 
plenty  of  objectron  in  this  corapa- 
fiy  to  your  being  one  amongst  ifs.* 
What  had  he  done,  the  gent!ema» 
demanded.  *  What  have  you 
done  ?^  rejcitM  the  first  uy,ahe»> 
«  Don't  I  know  you-  fcff  the  tnfs- 
(ireant,  that  ravfehed  the^  ft»f 
wench  against  her  will  in  the  pre*' 
ence  of  her  mother  ?  And  did'nt 
your  pagans,  that  held  her  down, 
ravish  ^c  mofher  afterwards,  Sn 
the  presence  of  her  daughter  T 
Anddoj  ytHirtkiBk  We  wHl  adnic 
you  vni^  oOT  compaay  I  MtkM- 
yourself  sure  that  we  shaft  ftot  j 
therefbre'  get  0Ot  of  thk  as  speeifily' 


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•ILVA. 


461 


M  you  can,  and  away  wid  you.* 
tJpon  this  the  whole  company 
rose,  and  in  their  rising  the  civil 
gentleman  made  his  exit,  and  was 
ofip.  I  relate  this  incident  exactly 
as  it  happened,  suppressing  the 
name  of  the  gentleman,  who  was 
a  man  of  prop>erty  and  some  con- 
sequence. When  my  surprize 
bad  subsided,  and  the  punch  bc^ 
gan  to  circulate,  with  a  rapidity 
the  greater  for  this  gentleman's 
having  troubled  the  waters,  I  took 
my  departure,  having  first  cau« 
tioned  a  friend,  who  sate  by  me, 
(and  the  only  protestant  in  the 
company)  to  keep  his  head  cool, 
and  beware  of  the  glorious  memory. 
This  gallant  young  officer,  son  to 
a  man,  who  held  lands  of  my  faf 
ther,  promised  faithfully  to  be  so- 
ber and  discreet,  as  well  knowing 
the  company  he  was  in.  But  my 
friend,  having  forgot  the  first  part 
of  his  promise,  and  getting  very 
tipsy,  let  the  second  part  slip  out 
of  his  memory,  and  became  very 
mad  ;  for  stepping  aside  for  his 
pistols,  he  re-entered  the  room, 
and  laying  them  on  the  table,  took 
the  cockade  from  his  hat,  and 
dashed  it  into  the  punch4)owl,  de- 
manding of  the  company  to  drink 
the  glorious  and  immortal  memory  of 
king  IViiUam  in  a  bumper,  or  abide 
the  consequences.  I  was  not 
there,  and  if  I  h'ad  been  present  I 
could  neither  have  staid  the  tu- 
mult, nor  described  it.  I  only 
know  he  turned  out  the  next  morn- 
ing merely  for  honour's  sake,  but 
as  it  was  one  against  a  host,  the 
magnanimity  of  his  opponents  let 
him  off  with  a  shot  or  two,  which 
did  no  execution.' 

CICKRO. 

I  know  not  what  Cicero  would 
h^ve  said  of  the  dabblers  in  chym- 
istry,  and  the  frivolous  experimen- 
talists of  the  present  day,  who, 
from  a  superficial  knowledge  of 


this  nature,  think  themselves  great 
philosophets.  It  is  very  proper 
that  these  subjects  should  be  pro- 
foundly understood,  and  that  pro- 
fest  adepts  should  be  amply  re- 
warded for  their  ingenious  and 
useful  labours.  But  pursuits  of 
this  kind  ought  not  to  be  made  a 
branch  of  general  education  to  the 
exclusion  of  more  useful  acquisi- 
tions. A  gentleman  may  make  a 
very  handsome  figure  in  life  by  the 
aid  of  literature  alone  ;  but  with- 
out literature  he  can  be  agreeable 
neither  as  a  companion  nor  a  writer, 
tho'  he  should  possess  the  chymical 
skill  of  Lavoisier,  or  the  astro- 
nomical knowledge  of  Herschel. 
<'  As  to  phy sicks,  or  natural  phi- 
losophy, (says  Middleton)  Cicero 
seems  to  have  had  the  notion  with 
Socrates,  that  a  minute  and  par- 
ticular attention  to  it,  and  the  mak- 
ing it  the  sole  end  and  object  of 
our  inquiries,  was  a  study  rather 
curious  than  profitable,  and  con- 
tributing but  Uttle  to  the  improve- 
ment of  human  life.  For  though 
he  was  perfectly  acquainted  with 
the  various  systems  of  all  the  phi- 
losophers  of  any  name,  from  the 
earliest  antiquity,  and  has  explain- 
ed them  all  in  his  works,  yet  he 
did  not  tluiik  it  worth  while,  cither 
to  form  any  distinct  opinions  of  ' 
his  own,  or  at  least  to  declare 
them.  From  his  account,  how- 
ever, of  those  systems,  we  may 
observe,  that  several  of  the  funda- 
mental principles  of  the  modem 
philosophers,  which  pass  for  the 
discoveries  of  these  later  times, 
arc  the  revival  rather  of  ancient 
notions,  maintained  by  some  of  the 
first  philosophy  of  whom  we 
have  any  notice  in  history  ;  as,  the 
motion  of  the  earth,  the  antipodes, 
a  vacuum,  and  an  universal  grav- 
itation, or  attractive  quality  of 
matter,  which  holds  the  world  in 
its  present  form  and  order." 


Digitized  by  VjOOQ IC 


46S 


ttLVA. 


Johnson  observes  that  Pope  pre- 
ferred for  their  harmony  these  two 
lines  : 

Lo !  where  Iteotli  flleept,  and  hardly  flows 
The  freezing  Taoab  through  a  waste  of  mowt. 

I  have  somewhere  read  that  he 
gave  a  decided  preference  for  the 
same  reason  tq  the  following  in- 
scription on  a  grotto,  which  he 
translated  from  a  modem  Latin 
poet. 

Nymph  of  the  grot!  this  sacred  scene  I  keep. 
And  to  the  murmur  of  those  waters  sleep. 
O,  spare  my  slumbers,  gently  tresd  the  cavCa 
And  drink  m  silence,  or  in  sUeoce  lave. 

His  attack  on  Colly  Cibber  was 
petulant  and  unjust.  Cibber,  far 
from  being  the  dunce  which  Pope 
describes  him,  was  a  man  of  vig- 
orous sense  and  lively  wit,  as  may 
be  proved  by  his  observations  on 
Cicero,  and  by  n^any  of  his  plays. 

Questions  have  been  asked,  and 
doubts  have  been  entertained,  whe- 
ther Pope  was  a  poet  in  the  digni- 
fied meaning  of  the  word.  I^t 
the  answer  be  given,  and  let  the 
doubt  be  destroyed,  by  the  author- 
ity of  reason  and  the  impartiality 
of  enlightened  criticism.  "  After 
all  this,  it  is  surely  superfluous  to 
answer  the  question  that  has  once 
been  asked,  Whether  Pope  was  a 
poet  ;  otherwise  than  by  asking  in 
return,  if  Pope  be  not  a  poet,  where 
is  poetry  to  be  found  ?  To  circum- 
scribe poetry  by  a  definition  will 
only  shew  the  narrowness  of  the 
definer,  though  a  definition  which 
shall  exclude  Pope  will  not  easily 
be  made.  Let  us  look  round  up- 
on the  present  time,  and  back  up« 
on  the  past ;  let  us  inquire  to  whom 
the  voice  of  mankind  has  decreed 
the  wreath  of  poetry  }  let  their 
productions  be  examined,  and  their 
claims  stated,  and  the  pretensions 
of  Pope  will  be  no  more  disputed. 
Had  he  given  the  world  only  his 
version, the  name  of  poet  must  have 
been  allowed  him  :  if  the  writer  of 
the  "  Iliad"  were  to  class  his  suc- 


cessors, he  would  assign  a  verf 
high  place  to  his  translator,  with- 
out requiring  any  other  evidence 
of  genius."        — 

ARAM. 

Eugene  Aram  was  a  very  ex- 
traordinary man.  Without  the 
aid  of  a  master  he  gained  a  per- 
fect knowledge  of  the  Greek  and 
Latin  languages,  and  read  all  their 
authors.  He  acquired  the  Chal- 
dee,  Arabick,  Hebrew,  and  Cel- 
tick,  was  an  excellent  botanist,  and 
a  profound  mathematician.  But 
the  excellence  of  his  head  could 
not  counteract  the  depravity  of  his 
heart,  and  he  was  induced  to  mur- 
der Daniel  Clark,  a  shoe-maker,  to 
possess  himself  of  a  trifling  sum 
of  money.  The  murder  was  OHi- 
cealed  nearly  fourteen  years,  and 
was  accidentally  discovered  by 
tome  bones  which  were  dug  up. 
Aram  was  triedy  convicted,  and 
executed,  on  the  testimony  of  his 
own  wife,  and  on  that  of  one 
Houseman,  who  had  been  con- 
cerned in  the  murder,  but  on  this 
occasion  turned  king's  evidence. 
The  following  defence,  which  this 
extraordinary  roan  read  in  court, 
is  perhaps  one  of  the  finest  pieces 
of  eloquence  in  our  language,  and 
will  amply  compensate  for  its 
length  by  its  uncommon  exceU 
lence. 

*  My  Lord-*-I  know  not  whcthe? 
it  is  of  right,  or  through  some  in^ 
dulgence  of  your  lordship,  that  I 
am  allowed  the  liberty  at  this  bar, 
and  at  this  time,  to  attempt  a  de- 
fence ;  incapable,  and*  iminstruct- 
ed,  as  I  am  to  speak.  Since, 
while  I  see  so  many  eyes  upon 
me,  so  numerous  and  awful  a  cont 
course,  fixed  with  attention,  and 
filled  with  I  know  not  what  ex- 
pectancy, I  labour  not  with  guilt, 
my  lord,  but  with  perplexity.  For 
having  never  seen  a  court  but  this, 
being  wholly  tmacquainted  with 
law,  the  customs  of  the  bar,  and 


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46f 


«U  judiciary  proceedings,  I  fear  I 
shall  be  so  little  capable  of  speak- 
ing with  propriety  in  this  place, 
that  it  exceeds  my  hope  if  I  shall 
be  able  to  speak  at  all. 

<  I  have  heard,  my  lord,  the  in- 
dictment read,  wherein  I  find  my- 
self charged  with  the  highest 
crime  ;  with  an  enormity  I  am  al- 
together incapable  of;  a  fact,  to 
the  commission  of  which  there 
goes  far  niore  insensibility  of  heart, 
Titore  profligacy  of  morab,  than 
ever  fell  to  my  lot.  And  nothing 
possibly  could  have  admitted  a  pre- 
sumption of  this  natute  but  a  de- 
pravity, not  inferiour  to  that  impu- 
ted to  me.  However,  as  I  stand 
indicted  at  your  lordship's  bar,  and 
have  heard  what  is  called  evidence 
induced  in  support  of  such  a 
charge,  I  very  humbly  solicit 
your  lordship's  patience,  and  beg 
the  hearing  of  this  respectable  au- 
dience, while  I,  single  and  unskil- 
ful, destitute  of  friends,  and  unas«- 
sisted  by  counsel,  say  something, 
perhaps,  like  argument,  in  my  de*- 
fence.  I  shall  consume  but  little 
of  your  lordship's  time  ;  what  I 
have  to  say  will  be  short,  and  this 
brevity,  probably,  will  be  the  best 
part  of  it  c  however,  it  is  offered 
with  all  possible  regard,  and  the 
greatest  submission  to  your  lord- 
ship's consideration,  and  that  of 
this  honourable  court. 

*  First,  my  lord,  the  whole  tenor 
of  my  conduct  in  life  contradicts 
every  particular  of  this  indictment. 
Yet  I  had  never  said  this,  did  not 
my  present  circumstances  extort 
it  from  me,  and  seem  to  make  it 
necessary.  Permit  me  here,  my 
lord,  to  call  upon  malignity  itself, 
so  long  and  cruelly  bu^ed  in  this 
prosecution,  to  charge  upon  me 
any  immorality,  of  which  prejudice 
was  not  the  author.  No,  my  lord, 
I  concerted  no  schemes  of  frau^ 
projeaed  no  vioiencei  injured  no 


man's  person  or  property.  My 
days  were  honestly  liaborious,  my 
nights  intensely  studious.  And,  I 
hutnbly  conceive,  my  notice  of  this^ 
especially  at  this  time,  will  not  be 
thought  impertinent,  or  unseason- 
able ;  but,  at  least,  deserving  some 
attention  :  because,  my  lord,  that 
any  person,  after  a  temperate  use 
of  life,  a  series  of  thinking  and  act- 
ing regularly,  and  without  one  sin- 
gle deviation  from  sobriety,  should 
plunge  into  the  very  depth  of  pro- 
fligacy, precipitately  and  at  once, 
is  altogether  improbable  and  un- 
precedented, and  absolutely  incon- 
-sistent  with  the  course  of  things. 
Mankind  is  never  corrupted  at 
once  ;  villainy  is  always  progres- 
sive, and  declines  from  right,  step 
after  step,  till  every  regard  of  pror 
bity  is  lost,  and  every .  sense  of  all 
moral  obligations  totally  perishes. 
"  Again,  my  lord,  a  suspicion  of 
this  kind,  which  nothing  but  ma- 
levolence could  entertain,  and  ig- 
norance propagate,  is  violently  op- 
posed by  my  very  situation  at  that 
time,  with  respect  to  health  :  for, 
but  a  little  space  before,  I  had  been 
confined  to  my  bed,  and  suffered 
under  a  very  long  and  severe  dis- 
order, and  was  not  able,  for  half  a 
year  together,  so  much  as  to  walk. 
The  distemper  left  me  indeed, 
yet  slowly  and  in  part ;  but  so  ma- 
cerated, so  epfeebled,  that  I  was 
reduced  to  cructhe?  ;  and  was  so 
far  from  being  well  abo\it  the  time 
I  am  charged  with  tliis  fact,  that  I 
never  to  this  day  perfectly  recov- 
ered. Could  then  a  person  in  this 
condition  take  any  thing  into  his 
head  so  unlikely,  so  extravagant ; 
I,  past  the  vigour  of  my  age,  fee- 
ble and  valetudinary,  with  no  in- 
ducement to  engage,  no  ability  to 
accomplish,  no  weapon  wherewith 
to  perpetrate  such  a  fact ;  without 
interest,  without  power,  without 
motive,  without  means  I 


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i4%0 


ilUA. 


.  « Beside  it  must  heeds  occur 
to  every  one,  that  an  action  of  thi^ 
atrocious  nature  is  never  heard  o^ 
but,  when  its  springs  are  laid  open^ 
it  app^rs  that  it  was  to  support 
some  indolence,  or  supply  some 
luxury,  to  satisfy  some  avarice,  or 
oblige  some  malice  ;  to  prevent 
iSome  real,  or  some  imaginary 
want :  yet  I  lay  not  under  the  in* 
fluence  of  any  one  of  these.  Surely, 
my  lord,  I  may,  consistent  with 
both  truth  and  modesty,  affirm 
thus  much  ;  and  none  who  have 
any  veracity,  and  knew  me,  will 
ever  question  this. 

<  In  the  second  place,  the  disap- 
{)earance  of  Clark  is  suggested  as 
an  argument  of  his  being  dead  ; 
but  the  uncertainty  of  such  an  in** 
ference  from  that,  and  the  &llibil- 
}ty  of  all  conclusions  of  such  a  sort, 
JTrom  such  a  circumstance,  are  too 
•obvious,  and  too  notorious,  to  re« 
quire  instances  :  yet,  superseding 
many,  permit  me  to  produce  a  very 
recent  one,  and  that  afforded  by 
this  castle. 

<  In  June,  1757,  William 
Thompson,  for  all  the  vigilance  of 
this  place,  in  open  day -light,  and 
double-ironed,  made  his  escape  ; 
and,  notwithstanding  an  immedi* 
ate  inquiry  set  on  foot,  the  strict- 
est search,  and  all  advertisement, 
Vas  never  seen  or  heard  of  since, 
if  then  Thompson  got  off  unseen, 
through  all  these  difficulties,  how 
Very  easy  was  it  for  Clark,  when 
none  of  them  opposed  him  I  But 
what  would  be  thought  of  a  pros- 
ecution commenced  against  any 
one  seen  last  with  Thompson  ? 

<  Permit  me  next,  my  lord,  to 
dbserve  a  little  upon  the  bones 
wliich  have  been  discovered.  It 
is  said,  which  perhaps  is  saying 
very  &r,  that  these  are  the  skele- 
ton of  a  man.  It  is  possible  indeed 
k  may  :  but  is  there  any  certain 
luiown  criterion,  which  incontesta- 


f}\y  distinguishes  Che  ser  in  hu« 
man  bones  ?  Let  it  be  considered, 
my  lord,  whether  the  ascertaining 
of  this  point  <>ught  not  to  precede 
any  attempt  to  identify  them. 

«  The  place  qf  their  deposiumf 
loo  claims  much  more  attention 
than  is  commonly  bestowed  upon 
It :  for,  of  all  places  in  the  world, 
none  could  have  mentioned  any 
one,  wherein  there  was  greater 
certainty  of  finding  human  bones, 
than  a  h^mitage  ;  except  he 
should  point  out  a  church-yard  t 
hermitages,  in  time  past,  being  not 
only  places  of  religious  retirement, 
but  of  burial  too.  And  it  has 
scarce  or  never  been  heard  o^  but 
that  every  cell,  now  known,  con- 
tains, or  contained,  these  relicks 
of  humanity  ;  some  mutilated,  and 
some  entire.  I  do  not  inform,  but 
give  me  leave  to  remind  your  lord- 
ship, that  here  sat  solitary  sanctityi 
and  here  the  hermit,  or  the  an- 
choress, hoped  that  repose  for 
their  bones,  when  dead,  they  here 
enjoyed  when  living. 

«  AH  this  while,  my  lord,  I  am 
sensible  tliis  is  known  to  your  lord- 
ship, and  many  in  this  court,  bet« 
ter  than  I.  But  it  seems  necessa- 
ry to  my  case,  that  others,  who 
Lave  not  at  all,  perhaps,  adverted 
to  things  of  this  nature,  and  may 
have  concern  in  my  trial,  should 
be  made  acquainted  with  it.  Suf- 
fer me  then,  my  lord,  to  produce 
a  few  of  many  evidences,  that  these 
cells  were  used  as  repositories  of 
the  dead,  and  to  enumerate  a  few, 
in  which  human  bones  have  been 
found,  as  it  happened  in  this  in 
question  ;  lest,  to  some,  that  acci* 
dent  might  seem  extraordinary, 
and,  consequently,  occasion  preju- 
dice. 

*  1 .  The  bones,  as  was  suppos- 
ed, of  the  Saxon,  St.  Dubritius, 
were  discovered  buried  in  his  cell 
at  Guy's  cliff,  near  Warwick,  as 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


MSVA. 


4ri 


appdaw  from  the  itithority  df  Sb 
William  Dugdtic. 

<  3.  The  boned,  thought  te  btf 
those  of  the  anchored  R<m^  we^ 
bat  latel^r  ^scovered  in  a  ceU  at 
RofstOHv  entire,  &ir,  aji^l  unde-r 
cayed,  thotigh  thef  iniist  htpfe  laky 
interred  for  several  ceHtutiea^  a^  i* 
proved  by  Dr.  Smkely. 

^  3.  But  otir  own  ed«nlty,  nay, 
ahnost  this  netghboarhood,  au]p^ 
f^iiea  uiotlier  ineianee :  for,  in  Jan-^ 
CKnry,  1747,  was  found  by  Mr.  Slo- 
Tift,  accosapaiMttd  by  a  feterancf 
gentlemaiv,  the  bones,  in  party 
oi  some  rectusey  in  the  cCflt  aC 
Uncfiiolmr  near  Hatfield.  They 
were  believed  to  be  those  of  Wil" 
Man>  of  lindhoim,  a  herftiit,  iriKy 
haid  long  made  this  cave  bis  hej^it-' 
attfon* 

<  4.  In  February,  1744,  par^of 
Wobom  abbey  being  pulled  down/ 
a  large  portion' of  a  corpse  ap^wor^ 
ed,  even  with  the  ifosh'  on,  and 
Kphicb  bore  butiwg  with  a  knife  ; 
though  it  is  certain  this^  had  lain^ 
above  300  years,'  and  how  much 
longer  is  doubtful  ;  for  this  abbey 
was  founded  kl^  1 145,  aikl  dissolved 
in  l53S^x>r  9. 

^  What  would  have  been  saidy 
what  belSeved,  if  this  had  been  an* 
afieideat  to  the  bonea  in  question  ? 
«•  Farifherf  my  ford,  il  is^  no! 
yei^ont  oi  l^vktg  memory,  that  af 
HtHShi^,  StUtatiGQ  Ipom  KnottiBbo- 
tot^f  M  »  field,  part  of  the  tci^ 
twMT  of  the  worthy  and  patriot 
BiM^ief)  who^does  that  borough 
dna^oftoinr  to  represent  it  in  pai*-^ 
\im»m^  ^^^  <^>uttdf  io^  diggbg 
ft^b^Mm^  Aolone  iMutian  ^te^ 
txAitfttii^^  ^^^  ^'  ^  de^oatt^ 
tim^^  ddetf  wi&  eateii  a»  weA 

Ui^lpliit^iiital  ^  fUMMii  inl^ 

tliAe  saiiie  ^Me^  ^  iifr 
f^»  idMAlckMb  tl^lllli!^ 

i^:g9^vdr  asotber  hu« 


ilian  skeleto« ;  but  tho  piety  of 
the  sarnie  worthy  gentleman  order- 
ed both  the  pits  to  be  filled  ufT 
agaiAr  commendably  tmwilting  to 
(^starb  the  dead. 

'  Is  tho  invehtion  of  these 
bones  foi^gotfen,  then,  of  indbstri-* 
oOsty  coticealedy  that  the  discovery 
Of  those  in  qtfeStion  tii^y  appear 
the  more  stAgular  and  ext#aordi-' 
nary?  Whertias,  in  faet,  there  is- 
nothing  eittraofdhiary  hi  it.  My 
Lotirfr  almost  e^c*fy  plaee  con- 
ceals sOch  remains.  In  fields^  in 
hiHd,  ift  highway  sid^s,  in  com-' 
ftlons/  lie  frequent  and  linsu^ct-' 
ed  bones.  Atidour  present  aMot^ 
nMnts  for  rest  for  th6  departed^  i^ 
btM  of  soioe  Centuries* 

^  A»6^er  particular  senefAls  not 
to  c\8^  ^  little  of  yocip  lordship's 
notkerand  that  of  the  gi^nCkmeiv 
Of  the  jury  ;  wluch  is,  that  peA^hap9 
ikveftatni^e  oectn^s  of  mor«  thaifif 
ond  Skeleton  behig  found  in  oi^ 
e^il ;  amdw  the  ccK  li^  questions 
WAfr  found  but  (Me  $  agr^^able,  ii^ 
this,  to  the  peculiarity  of  cvfer}^ 
other  known  cell  in  Brifoki.  Not 
t^  invention  of  one  s^t:leton>  the^y 
botof  twoy  Would  have  appeared 
suspicious  and  unconlnfon. 

*  But  theft,  my  lord,  to  attempt 
td-  identify  these,  when  evert  to  i" 
dentify  living  men  tometiiKtes  ha9 
proved  so  difficult,  as  in  the  case 
of  PeBkin  Waibeck  and  Xatnbert 
Symnel  at  home,  and  of  Dbii  Se-* 
bastkn  aftroad^  will  be  lobked  up-' 
on  perhaps  as  aA  attteiApt  to  deter^ 
Tjaifve  what  iW  hkietefrminable. 
And  I  hdpc  iati  it  will  ncft  p«sfl^  tm^ 
coii^dered  heiv,  where  gewtlemei* 
bctieve  with  caution,  think  wJtl* 
reason^  and  dteide  with  hm<ieAityr 
whrat  idter<Mt  Ao  eAdeatotlt^  to  dor 
ttm'H  cafoukftd  to  sen^  fit  assign" 
irig  piNiper  personality  td  thofi^ 
boAe^i^hoae^pMticulur  apptbpria*^ 
xkOBk,^  ctm  ^ly  appear  Ui  eferMt' 
OAltiMtebcc!. 

<  Permit  me,    my    brd,    als9 


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SILYA* 


very  humbly  to  remonstrate,  that, 
as  human  bones  appear  to  have 
T>cen  the.  inseparable  adjuncts  of 
t very  cell,  even  any  person's  nam- 
inr^  such  a  place  at  random  as  con- 
tainint^  them,  in  this  case,  shews 
him  rather  unfortunate  than  con- 
scious prescient,  and  that  these  at- 
tendants on  every  hei  milage  only 
accidentally  concurred  with  this 
cdnjecture.  A  mere  casual  coin- 
cidence of  words  and  things. 

'  But  it  seems  another  skeleton 
has  been  discovered  by  some  la- 
bourer, which  was  full  as  conti- 
dently  averred  to  be  Clark's  as 
this.  My  Lord,  must  some  of  the 
living,  if  it  promotes  some  Interest, 
be  made  answerable  for  all  the 
bones  that  earth  has  concealed,  and 
chance  exposed  ?  And  might  not 
a  place  where  bones  lay  be  men- 
tioned by  a  person  by  chance,  as 
well  as  found  by  a  labourer  by 
chance  ?  Or,  is  it  more  criminal 
accidentally  to  name  where  bones 
lie,  than  accidentally  to  Jind  where 
thcj'  lie  ? 

'  Her  J  too  is  a  human  skull  pro- 
duced, which  is  fractured  ;  but 
was  this  the  causc^  or  was  it  the  cQn- 
scquence  of  death  ;  was  it  owing 
to  violence,  or  was  it  the  effect  of 
natural  decay  ?  If  it  was  violence, 
was  that  violence  before  or  after 
death  ?  My  lord,  in  May  1732, 
the  remains  of  William  Lord  Arch- 
bishop of  tliis  province  were  taken 
up,  by  permission,  in  this  cathe-, 
dral,  and  the  bones  of  the  skull 
were  found  broken  ;  yet  certainly 
he  died  by  no  violence  offered  to 
him  alive,  that  could  occasion  that 
fracture  there. 

'  Let  it  be  considered,  my  lord, 
that  upon  the  dissolution  of  relig- 
ious houses,  and  the  commence- 
ment of  the  Reformation,  the  ra- 
vages of  those  times  both  affected 
the  living  and  the  dead.  In 
search  after  imaginary  treasures, 


cofl^s  were  broken  up,  g^ves  and 
vaults  dug  open,  monuments  ran-* 
sack'd,  and  shrines  demolished  ; 
your  Lordship  knows  that  these 
violations  proceeded  so  far,  as  to 
occasion  parliamentary  authority 
to  restrain  them  ;  and  it  did,  about 
the  beginning  of  the  reign  of 
Queen  Elizabeth.  I  entreat  yoor 
Lordship  suffer  not  the  violences, 
the  depredations,  and  the  iniquities 
of  those  times  to  be  imputed  to  tliis. 

<  Moreover,  what  gentleman 
here  is  ignorant  that  Knaresbor- 
ough  had  a  castle  ;  which,  though 
now  a  ruin,  Nvas  once  considerable 
both  for  its  strength  and  garrison. 
All  know  it  was  vigorously  besiege 
cd  by  the  arms  of  the  parliament ; 
at  which  ^iege,  in  sallies,  conflicts, 
flights,  pursuits,  many  fell  in  all 
the  places  round  it :  and  where 
they  fell  were  buried  ;  for  every 
place,  my  lord,  is  burial  earth  in 
war  ;  and  many,  questionless,  of 
these  rest  yet  unknown,  whose 
bones  futurity  shall  discover. 

'  I  hope,  with  all  imaginable 
submission,  that  what  has  been 
said  will  not  be  thouglit  imperti- 
nent to  this  indictment  ;  and  that 
it  will  be  far  from  the  wisdom,  the 
learning,  and  the  huegrity  of  this 
place,  to  impute  to  the  living  what 
zeal  in  its  fury  may  have  done  ; 
what  nature  may  have  taken  off, 
and  piety  interred  ;  or  what  war 
alone  may  have  destroyed,  alone 
deposited. 

^  As  to  the  circumstances  that 
have  been  raked  togetlier,  I  have 
nothing  to  observe  ;  but  that  all* 
circumstances  whatsoever  are  pre- 
carious, and  have  been  but  too  fre- 
quently found  lamentably  falHble  ; 
even  the  strongest  have  billed.  They 
may  rise  to  the  upmost  degree  of 
probability  j  yet  are  they  but  pro- 
bability still.  Why  need  I  name 
to  your  lordship  the  two  Hiytri- 
sons  recorded  in  Dr.  Howelj  who 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


mr  kMr]^ki!i». 


4TS 


bei^tJi^  of  the  Sudden  dbappear- 
aWde  of  their  lodger,  who-  was  in 
cbeAl,  Itad  cohtt*acted  debtft)  bot*- 
ro#ed  money  and  went  off  Unseen, 
tM  i'eturned  again  a  great  immf 
^eart  after  their  estecution  ?  Why 
Mthe  the  intricate  afiUir  of  Jacques 
^u  Moniin)  imder  King  Charles  II. 
related  hf  a  gentleman  Who  was 
coundl  for  the  croW^  f  And  why 
the  unhappy  ColenAati,  Who  feuffef-* 
ed  inAbcent)  though  convicted  up- 
6h  ^o^V^  evidence,  and  whose 
children  perished  for  Want,  be- 
cause th^  irorM  uncharitably  be- 
ttered the  feth^  guilty.  Why 
ftientjbn  the  petjdfy  of  Smith,  Ih- 
cautioUsly  t^kttitted  King's  evi- 
ience  ;  iHio^  te  «fti*eeh  hiitiSdf, 
i6^ally  accused  Faircloth  and 
Loveday  of  tfte  murder  of  Dtimn  ; 
the  fim  of  whom,  in  1749,  was 
Masked  at  Winc^stef;  ahdl^ov^- 
My  #as  fi^bout  to  suifei*  at  Read^ 
ibg,  had  not  Smith  been  proved 
petJuHedj  to  the  satis^cUon  e€ 
the  coutt)  by  tbe  surgeon  of  the 
GosJ^rt  fibspkal. 


«  No#,  my  ferd,  having  endeav^ 
oured  to  shew  tWat  the  wiiole  ^ 
thii  pi'ocess  is  altogether  repu^ 
nant  to  every  part  of  my  fefe  § 
that  it  is  inconsistent  with  my  con^ 
ditibn  of  health  about  tha^  time  ; 
that  no  rational  inference  can  be 
di^wn,  that  k  persoti  is  dead  wh<l 
suddenly  disappears  ;  that  hehni^ 
tages  were  the  constant  ri^osho^ 
rks  of  the  bones  of  the  recluse  ; 
that  the  prooffe  of  this  are  well  feu* 
thenticated  ;  that  the  revohitioA« 
in  religion,  or  the  fortune  of  war^ 
has  mangled,  or  buried,  tiie  dead  | 
the  conclusion  remains,  peHrnps, 
no  less  reasonably  than  impictiemly 
wished  for.  I,  last,  after  a  year's 
eOnfinement^ual  to  either  fortune^ 
put  mySelf  upon  the  candour,  the 
justice  and  the  humanity  of  youf 
lordship,  ftnd  u^on  yours,  mf 
countryn^en,gentlemen  ofthe  jurv.' 

The  Judge  declared  that  tbt 
reasoning  of  Aram  was  the  stiy>hg« 
est  he  had  ever  met  with,  but  that 
it  could  no^  iifM  against  direct  and 
positive  evidence.  He  was  tried 
on  thfe  3d  Of  AogfUst,  1759. 


iV  the  AtUhoiB^, 

THE   k£MAR?:ER. 


M.  13. 


ChHjufent,  Vtf  p^Miaiii  cemervarinty  adftederinif  auxerint,  d^^hMi  ieite  in  tikRf  dtfiniHmi 
H^cum,  M  tt(Mi  (ato  HmpittTM  /rtuoUur.  Nihii  tit  enim  MU  pnneipi  JDtOf  gid 
bmKtnt  hmnc  ntunckfn  regit,  qwod  gmdem.  in  terrik  JitU,  dcc^iUtg  ^Qm  c^neitia 

.   dBtutque  komimnnf  jure  iociati. — Czc  Somnium  Scipiovis. 


1  ^j^iL  not  he  suspected  of 
having  Ixyrrowed  the  lesson  from 
aAttiqliitt,  wheti  I  say,  that  to  Kve 
ie^cording  to  the  law  of  his  being 
k  the  gl^  of  every  raitional  mind, 
ftydeed)  we  ttre  taught  this  lesson 
by  otn*  &ifii  experience,  as  well  tA 
by  vohi^i^  of  philosophy.  If  w* 
look  arodfnd  tts,  and  survey  th^  sub^ 
Hme  bisects  bf  Mature,  we  shall 
find  that  they  a!!  obey  that  pnml- 
tive  nlki  which  was  impanted  to 
them  by  their  divmeauthoh  '^If,** 
Vol.  m.  No.  9.  3M 


in  the  language  of  ^  writeir  (9n  £c« 
elesiasdcal  Pdlity^  <<  n^kture  ahould 
intermit  her  course  (  if  tiie  framei 
of  that  heavenly  ai»ch,  eitaed  over 
c^ur  heftds,  should  loosen  and  dis- 
M\t  itself  (  if  t^lesdal  spheres 
she'll  forget  their  wonted  mo- 
tions, and  by  irregular  votnlbility 
tSsfm  themselves  any  way  as  it 
might  happen ;  if  the  prince  of 
thfe  Hghts  of  heaven,  which,  now  aa 
a  giam  d6th  run  his  uhweaiiett 
course}  ahottfd  as  it  Were  hf  k  Ian- 


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47^ 


Tibi  m;mailbjl^^* 


guidbing  faintfiess^  begio  to  stand 
and  to  rest  himself  ^  if  the  moon 
should  wander  boxti  her  beaten 
frourse,  the  times  and  seasons,  of 
the  year  blend  themselves  by  dis- 
ordered and  confused  mixture,  the 
winds  breathe  out  their  last  gasp, 
the  clouds  yield  no  rain,  the  earth 
be  defeated  of  heavenly  influence^ 
the  fruits  of  the  earth  pine  away^ 
as  cliildren  at  the  \^ithered  breasts 
of  their  mother,  no  longer  able  to 
yield  them  relief ;  what  would  be- 
come of  man  hiniself,  whom  these 
things  do  now  all  serve  V*  Where 
would  empii*es  and  communities 
exist,  and  where  would  man  find 
Test  to  his  weary  feet,  if  he  should 
forget,  and  they  should  cease  to 
obey,  those, laws,  which  regulate 
the  conduct  of  beings  superiour 
and  subordinate  ?  The,  principles 
of  these  laws  flow  from  the  foun- 
tains of  nature  and  philosophy  ; 
and  the  study  of  them  expands  the 
powers  of  the  intellect,  while  it 
gives  life  and  activity  to  the  vir- 
tues of  the  heart. 

Ancient  lawgivers,  enlisted  po-j 
etry  and  musick  in  the  civilization 
of  society,  and  in  extending  the  in- 
fluence of  the  laws.  In  the  early 
stages  of  Grecian  history,  the  ju- 
dicial cbdes  were  expressed  in 
verse  and  adapted  to  musick.  Let 
us  not  however  suppose,  that  the 
science  of  jurisprudence  lost  any 
of  its  dignity  by  the  use  of  verse 
and  song,  since  there  was  a- 
time,  according  to  Plutarch, «  when 
even  histQry,  philosophy^every  ac- 
tion and  passion^  which  required 
grave  or  serious  discussion,  was^ 
written  in  poqtiy  ^nd  adapted  tO; 
mu^ck.  The  prai^s  of  their  gods». 
their  prayers  and  thanksgivings  af- 
ter victory,  were  all  composed  in 
verse,  $ome  through  the  love  pf. 
harmony v»^nd  some  through  pus-> 
torn."  The  .laws  of  Charondaa 
\vere  sung,a|  the  banquets  of  the_ 
Athenians  J  and  the  youth  of  Crete 


committed  their  laws  to  memory 
'<  with  accompaniments  of  musical 
melody,  in  order  that,  by  the  en- 
chantment of  harmony,  the  senti- 
ments might  be  more  forcibly  im- 
pressed on  their  minds."  I  do 
not  wonder  then,  that  Plato  in  his 
rcpublick  should  commend  musicki 
and  tliat  in  his  enthusiasm  he 
should  declare,  ^<  that  education, 
so  for  as  it  respected  the  mind} 
consisted  in  harmony." 
.  It  was  an  elegant  and  just  re- 
mark of  the  Roman  orator,  (hat 
the  sciences  are  associated  togeth- 
er and  delight  in  each  other's  com-  ■ 
pany.  Their  harmonious  inte^ 
course  resembles  the  dance  of  the 
Muses  round  the  altar  of  Jupiter. 
The  law  claims  kindred  with  tb«i 
noblest  of  the  sciences,  and  even 
aspires  to  an  alliance  witl^  our  di- 
vuie  religion.  Both  flow  from  the 
sam^  source,  and  both  promote 
the  felicity  of  those  beings  oa 
which  they  jointly  opei-a^e.  They 
unite  to  impose  restraint  on  the  in- 
justice of  men,  but  in  different 
modes  :  the  one  by  the  silen; 
but  powerful  operations  of  con- 
science ;  the  other  by  the  machin- 
ery of  the  civil  power.  The  laws 
of  human  §ociety  would  confessed- 
ly be  imperfect  without  the  aid  of 
religion,  whose  voice,  though  ut- 
tered in  whispers,  is  heard  in  the 
morning  and  in  the  evening,  by 
day  and  by  night,  in  the  retire- 
ment of  domestick  life,  .and  in  the 
intercourse  of  civil  society. 

Tliis  favourite  science  must, 
like  every  other,  sit  at  the  feet  of 
religion,  and  own  its  obligations  to 
her  sacred  instruction.  To  ihc 
votaries  of  Christianity  ar?  we  in- 
debted for  ^he  preseryation  of  what 
little  science  gleamed  through  the 
long  night,  in  which  the  moral 
world  was  for  centuries  invellopcd. 
To  tliem  are  jve  indebted  for  the 
disQDvery  and  preservation  of  the 
Institutes  pf,  Justiniauj    ^d    the 


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THE  REMA^lMK. 


Sirs 


trorks  of  the  civil  law,  a  more  il- 
histHous  monument  to  the  glory  of 
that  emperour,  than  titles  of  victo- 
ly.  To  Christianity  are  we  indebt- 
ed for  political  knowledge  and  for 
settling  upon  a  proper  foundation 
the  civil  and  religious  rights  of 
Subjects  and  rulers.  While  we 
recognize  our  common  obligations 
to  that  system,  which  breathes 
*  peace  on  earth,"  and  confess, 
that  the  science  of  jurisprudence 
owes  to  it  all  its  perfection  ;  we 
devoutly  hope,  that  the  child  may 
never  lift  up  its  iiand  against  its 
parent,  lest  it  should  wither,  nor 
dishonour  its  divine  original. 

Were  I  to  be  asked  the  qualifi- 
cations of  a  professor  of  the  law,  I 
should  say,  that,   like  the  orator 
whom  Cicero  describes,  he  should 
know  the  nature  and    powers  of 
language,  and  the  great  variety  of 
things.     To  elegance,  wit,  learn- 
ing, rapidity  of  thought,  and  ur- 
banity of  manners,  he  should  add 
an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the 
heart,  the  source  of  human  con- 
duct.    No  man  can  converse  well 
on  things,  of  which  he  is  ignorant. 
The  empty  flou.ish  of  words  will 
soon  betray  tl>e    puerility  of  the 
sentiment,  and  the   feebleness  of 
the  images  in  the  speaker's  mind. 
And  therefore  Sir  Edward  Coke, 
whose  autliorjty  may    always  be 
quoted  without  a  charge  of  pedan- 
try, recommended  to  the  students 
the   study  of  all  arts  and  sciences, 
*<  I  cannpt  exclude,**  ^?e  says,  "  the 
kjiowledge**  of  the  aits  and  scien- 
ces from  the  professor  of  juris- 
prudence.   *'  Since  the  knowledge 
of  them  is  necessary  and  profit- 
able."   In  this  science.  Ignorance 
contracts  the  liberality  .of  the  mind, 
and  is  as  closely   connected  with 
litigiousness  and  the  low  and  des- 
picable arts  of  the  pettifogger,  as 
iii  religion  it  is  united  with  fanati- 
cism and  spiiitual  pride.     Who- 
p  ver  i^lows  with  a  pure  love  to  his 


country,  whoever  has  a  jsoul,  which 
fcan  discern  and  estimate  the  beau- 
ty of  order  in  the  conduct  of  af- 
fairs, of  harraotly  among    states 
and  individuals,  of  Hght,  of  secu- 
rity, and  truth,  will  duly  respect 
the  system  of  jurisprudence, w^hicH 
is  the  bond  of  society,  and  !f;x)Hrt 
which  all  its  happiness  proceed«l 
Finally  the  profe^or  of  the  law, 
while   he    drinks    deeply  of  xht 
fountains  of  his  sdence,  ought  to 
purify  and  exalt  his  taste  by  the 
diligent    study  of  the  models  of 
ancient  genius  in  eloquence,  poe- 
try, and  morals.     Those  writings 
though  now  grown  venerable  by 
time,   still   retain  the  purple  liglit 
of  beauty  and  genius.     They  de- 
monstrate the  sublime  heights,  to 
which  the  intellect  may  aspire,  and 
they  exhibit  the  superiority  of  itj 
glory  to  that  of  arts  and  arms. 

In  any     community,    tha(    the 
courts  of  law  may  be  fo\intains  of 
justice,  from  which  may  issue  the 
healthful  streams  of  equity,  not 
only  should  the  judges  be  men  of 
learning  and  virtue,  hnxnng  no  fear 
but  the  fear  of  God^  but  the  legis- 
lator should  ^5e  adorned  withilhis- 
trious  qualifications.     IlJs  intelli- 
gence  must    discover  and  apply 
those    principles     of     right    and 
vrong,  which  are  applicable  to  the 
variety  of  things,   on  which  laws 
rpust  operate.     He  ought  to  know 
the  history  of  nations  and   of  his 
own  coimtry,  the  forms  of  their 
government,  arid   the  tendency  of 
different  political  systems  to  pro- 
mote    human    happiness.        He 
should  be  endowed  with  ^  gene- 
rous nature,    enriched   with  the 
treasures  of  learnings  adding  to  a 
cjear  intellect  and  passions  subdu- 
ed, not  only  innocence  of  life  and 
freedom  from  suspicion,  but  the 
positive  virtues    and  excellencies 
of  the  heart.      In  fine,  if  he  is  a 
man  of  honour,  experience,  integ- 
rity, disinterested,  freely  choscp; 


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47# 


EXTRACT  l^QJf  Mf  I||'4<  &EVISW. 


and  {vM  fisontiw.  duiB%  of  patty 
spirit,  he  b  formed  fos  the  J^a^w-; 
giver,  D/ot  of  a  single  conuptmpity 
9X^)S  but  of  natioDs. 
,  S^ce  to  knpw  th^  laws,  by  which 
ve  are  goverof^,  a^d  to  yield  tp 
them  a  free  obedience,  i^  an  e&sen* 
iial  part  of  the  science  and  dvtjf 
of  IiCt^  ;  I  have  thought,  that  their 
Atudy  ought  to  be  in  introduced 
into  oyr  University,  and  and  mak^ 
part  of  iu  liberal  institutioo^ 
Txro  p(  the  leai^ed  p];ofessioii9  re« 
c^iye  there  all  tli^  advantages 
which  can  be  derived  &om  books, 
and  fjpm  Professors^  who  add 
to  tiie  knowledge  of  ancient 
Ifcaming  the  embellishments  of 
modern  grace,  apd  elegance.  The, 
benefactjoors*  whose  nam^s  are  men- 
tioned with  doe  enoomiums  on  it^ 
fsmual  solemnity,  hav^  laid  rich 
foundations  for  the  study  of  the 
other  sciences.  Private  mwii- 
fjcence  has  recently  estabUshed 
an  institution  for  tJbe  cujture  of 
¥otany.  Eloquence  likewise,  un- 
der the  auspices  of  the  Ameiican 
Quintiiian,  th©  omapKnt  both  of  the 
senate  a^d  Ihe  chair,  a^d  abje  to  ex- 
t^ibii  a  mod^l  as  well  as  to.  gVv  e  the 


I^ecepti  of  bU  art,  haa  ji^  jfmfii 
tl^efraibemity.  BaVvhen,Iaak,a]ro 
wit,  leanwSs  ncbness  pf  Ungu^^ 
harmony  of  utterance  and  ^Xi  uv^ 
treasures  of  eloque^c^  moat  hp<i 
nourably  employed  I  $ii^y  wbei^ 
defining  the  boundaxies  pf  righ^ 
and  wrong,  when  defending  ioncK 
cence,  when  pursuing  ^uilt,  wt\ea^ 
in  6^e,  they  are  subservient  to  Xh^ 
science,  ^  which  empWys  i^.  Ui 
th^ry  the  iud>le^t  faculties  of  tbo 
soul,  and  exerts  in  its  praptLpQ^ 
the  cardinal,  virtues  of  the  he^g^^ 
A  new  objiect  presents  itself  foi^ 
t^e  Ti^uniiicence  of  our  {e^ow  ciut** 
zens.  Can  they  i*ender  ^  morCi 
valuable  service  to  th^r  couptry, 
than  by  contributing  to  the  ^cei^f 
lence  of  its  laws,  and  to  the  pi^rit]^ 
of  their  admini^ratipn  I  Sqo% 
t^Q  may  there  be  enrolled  ^1190^ 
th/e  pubUck  benefactofa  of  that  Uni^ 
yersity  soq^e  generous  patr<^  of  Jur» 
rispnidence,  wbo^  c^m^  th  all  be 
encircled  witli  wreath^  pf  p^rpet^ 
ual  honour,  and  from  whom  thet^ 
may  cQn;^t^tly  flow  rays  of  a  di-i 
yinequaUty  for  the  ornament  oC 
the  state  and  for  the  bappities^  ^ 
the  citizens. 


'  From  AfJ^iii'i  Annual  Review^  %qI,  ith^  page  5^3, 

WE^ maintain  that  the  poets,  -wljo     bility.    Accordingly^  tb^  yoeta  of  zudo 


have  flourished  during  the  reign  pf 
George  III.,  have  produced  as  gre^it  a* 
cpianuiy  of  lasting  poetry,  as  those  who 
nourished  during  the  reign  of  Elizabeth, 
or  a|iy  other  haff-centiuy  of  the  Briti^ 
annals,  Xlie  tragediei  of  that  age  live  ; 
80  will  the  ^omediea  of  ours.  Our 
chorus-dramas,  and  our  baUads,  are  de- 
cidedly superiour  to  those  of  our  ances- 
tors :  so  are  our  elegies,  ai^  songs,and 
odes.  One  good  traiislation,  Fajrfiuc*! 
Tasso,  has  been  bequeathed  to  us  from 
the  times  of  Elizabeth  :  we  have  Sothe- 
by»8  Oberon,  and  several  other  master- 
preces,  whose  collective  weight  makes 
a  counterpoise. 

And  why  should  a  rude  age  be  fa- 
vourable to  the  production  of  ^tx)d  poe- 
trjr?  Rudeness  impli^f  a  pubhck  of  bad 
cntrcks  ;  an  ignorance  of  history.of  an- 
tiquities, of  the  limiu  of  nature,  likely 
to  tolerate  the  absvirdest  Tiolauon^pf 
truth,  costume,  geogr^^hy,  and  proba- 


agea,  who  are  no  more  nOc  less  li^^if 
than  others  to  have  gepms,  comtnoniy 
ofiPeud  by  want  of  tasis  :  siid  lhi»'  frc* 
queotly  in  60  great  a  degree,  as  tnoon* 
d^mn  their  woi'M  to  b^  ^%hioi^4  y 
in  which  case,tUe  modf  nw^ernma  %vtf$ 
with  tlie  praise.  Homer  ind^d  origin- 
ated early,  but  was  probably  corrected, 
by  a  good  critick,  ia  an  age  ttf  tasle. 
Tasso,  who  haa  prodveed  t]iejia3Qbbesfe> 
poem  V>  Homer,  flo^rlahed  ia  the  «|ft* 
tumn,  apt  tixe  spring,  of  Itafji^  cultore. 
Virgil  bloomed  m  an  age  qi^re^neq^ent, 
ai\d  Claudiao  was  stiH  a  poet  The  fti^ 
neral  song  of  Hacon  ia  a  ^(o/t  ode  :  but^ 
so  is  the  bard  of  Gray.  Thelra^^eaof 
Schiller,  the  fabliaux  of  Wiokia^  wevik 
composed  at  the  very  <;loae  of  the  eigh^ 
teenth  century  ;  ju^t  before  the  Freoch 
revolution  had  blunted  the  acme  of  hu« 
man  refinement.  The  ptopotiaon  of 
good  specimens  of  poeizy  piodacfdip- 
rude  timea  id  very  smalL 


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POETRY. 

EXPERIENCE  ;  or,  "FOLLY  AS  IT  FUES," 

A  TOBNy    PELIVEBED    BEFORE    THE  ♦  B  K    SOCIETY^    AT   CAMBRIDGE,   AUO. 
28,    1806.         BY    BENJAMIN   WHITWELL. 

V-."— .pmt9 

Non  #^,...~ ,.,v..- 

.- ^v ph<aretrl  H©*. 

ABGVMENT. 

Providence  havjnf^  dirtcUd  tkat  man  thmild  h%  igMraM  of  ftiluM  m^ttntSt  he 
is  stimulated  to  proceed  throuf^  U£i  by  the  hope  of  Uiifi/ymvtA  9^  tP  be  at- 
tiuned.  It  is  the  moral  of  the  poem  to  represent,  if  the  same  motives  aad 
passions  actuate  us  whic^  have  governed  Qtl&ers,  that  by  pb^firyalji^n  of  the 
course,which  they  have  followed,  vye  may  learn  where  our  own  will  termjnatjj  s 
that  similar  conduct  will  produpe  similar  consequences  ;  that  neglect  and 
oblivion  will  be  the  fate  of  the  indolent  and  profiSf^te  s  fiBM  tht  roward  of 
industry  and  enterprise.  i 

These  rcmsirks  are  intended  to  be  illustrated  by  an  allegory.  Life  is  represented 
as  the  iourncy  of  ^  day  ;  the  tr|ivcU«r,  nj^n,  having  pas*>d  the  s\^  of  infen- 
cy,  and  arrived  near  the  close  of  youth,  j^st  ver^ng  on,  manhood^  wc  fy^  him 
encirckd  by  Health,  Love,  and  Beauty,  eag«r  to  distribute  tjreir  Utt^ings. 
Discontented  witli  ^is  siteation,  he  Mjeots  them  alt  Cara  pcrtuadae  him  that 
he  is  a  llave  to  the  resjfcraint  of  pareiital  authority,  and  Hope  wfaiipefs  that 
I1me  will  bring  release^.  T^e  arrives,  leavQ*  E^ip^ii^n^^  ;  th«  tf^v^f r,  still 
advancing,  requests  Experience  to  direct  \^  QQurso,  who  ^swQr%  It  is  oidy 
my  duty  to  advise,  by  the  decree  of  fat^  ;  I  must  fojlow  where  you  shal)  lead^ 
and  instruct  you  ir\  your  course,  whether  you  shall  yield  tp  th<»  pertuasipns  of 
pleasure,  or  obey  the  diettttes  of  wisdovi.  Observe  this  i«irp(mr>  eppese  it^ 
the  patty  and  the  reflection  exhibits  the  future.  The>  differ  more  in  name  than 
in  reality,  being  alike  to  the  eye  of  Omniscieiice* 

The  traveller  inspects  the  mircour^  sgpd  dis<:ovefs  a  (onfiourse  of  pOPP^e  ff>read 
over  a  flowery  plain  and  ^  rugged  ipoujUAin  i  the  beauty  of  th^  piaie  excla« 
•ively  engrosses  his  attention,  sold,  at  his  request.  Experience  explain?  tfee  dif- 
ferent objects  wluch  it  presents.  It  is  inhilbited  by  th«  pF»>Ki  and  ifl<iolent, 
who  usurp  the  honours  and  vevierds  dee  to  virtue  ^^id  indus^.  Among 
these  are  the  v(^^|rioa  of  w«nlth  fvid  ^  fMhidIV  After  d^OribM^  th^  cp\Mt  of 
Fashion,  still  proceedwg  in.  their  joyrney,  they  ai^^ce^v^y  >devr  vaciflW  parts 
of  the  plain.  TJ^  pretenders  tp  science,  d^e  Uteran^  fpfo  the  i^rj^^Mi^  the 
lawyer,  and  the  aposta;te  politician  described  This  last  cparacler  cont^ted 
^th  that  of  the  uprMit  statesman^  terminating  with  a  respeetiVil  tribute  tp 
the  late  President  Achuns.     •  ' 

When  £}q)erieiM)e  ee^nci,  the  trvreikft*  ff0m  CKSBMUif  th^  oVjeeU  "wfaMh  were 
first  presented  ;  h^  4if  cm-era  ^  pa^t  kac^i^  tWugt^  thf  pM"  ^  ^  uoAWntain, 
on  which  th^  teW^W  of  Fi^me  V>  erected,  H^  \^  ciag^  to  ^ceod'th^  summit 
Experience  replies.  You  mAst  now  be  undeceived  ;  having"  spent  tije  day  with 
Fashion  and  Folly,  your  strength  is  exhausted,  apd  Time,  having  near}\'  fin- 
ished his  course,  the  ailtempt  weuM  bd  fintfti^ss.  It  was  my  duty  io  teach  this 
lesson,  that  thf  fiHire  rttsembkt  the  put  To  ixq^wm  thU  trutii*  yimr  tenses 
have  been  deceived  by  ftaesentif^  ^  ymc  view  Ofily  th^  va<^ant  fraiaf  ol  f^  mir- 
roxxr ;  objects,  which  appeared  reflected,  yi;tr^  represented  in  iist^qt  pfy%pect  5 
you  have  not  been  an  idle  spectator*,  but  an  actbr  in  tlvosc  scenes  of  vice  and 
pleasure.  Had  ycM  chosen  to  have  explored  tite  mountain,  which  promised 
flr'ory,  and  not  to  have  wandei^d  through  tiie  >Ui«,  vchich  o^erod  transient 
oelighty  my  advice  and  instruction  would  have  been  aa  readily  oflered  to  have 


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478  mt*  WHITWELL*S  POSir> 

flctfUAiAted  you  with  Uie  varieus  paths  which  lead  to  the  summit  Farewell ; 
and  remember^  it  is  the  fate  of  man,  that  Time  flies  too  soon,  and  Ezperienco 
arrives  too  late. 
'fhe  traveller,  having^  reviewed  his  course,  observes  before  him  Tune,  at  a  dis- 
tance,  on  the  ed^  of  the  horizon,  descending  with  the  western  sun ;  not  like 
him  agaiit  to  appear  in  the  east ;  for  as  Time  recedes,  the  etemsJ  night  of 
Death  approaches. 


•TIS  Heaven's  decree,  in  mercy,  that  mankind 
Should  to  their  future  desdny  be  blind  ; 
Impatient  man  rejects  his  present  state 
With  eager  step  to  meet  approaching  fate  ; 
Yet  would  the  future,  in  perspective  cast, 
Display  the  exact  resemblance  of  the  past  ; 
When  o'er  the  scene  of  human  life  we  rauge^ 
Tl|e  scenes  continue,  but  the  actors  change. 

Is  Life  to  man  the  journey  of  a  day  ? . 
10    Let  us  pursue  the  traveller  on  his  way. 
To  overtake  Hm  ere  his  course  incline 
Where  the  high  r9ads  of  youth  and  manhood  join. 

Now  Health  invites,  behold  the  laughing  hours 
Have  strewed  his  path,  and  spread  his  couch  with  flowers  ^ 
Desire  is  breathing  on  l\is  cheeky  and  throws 
The  blush  collected  from  the  vemai  rose^ 
The  vestal  flames  of  love  his  eye  suffuse, 
His  lip  is  fragrant  with  ambrosial  dews, 
Languid  with  ecstasy  soft  pleasure  sings, 
SO     Joy  thrills  the  lute,  aQd  rapture  tunes  the  strings. 

Whence  is  the  stifled  sigh  of  discontent  ? 
The  faded  cheek,  the  brow  with  wrinkles  bent  ? 
His  ear  no  sound,  his  eye  no  visions  move  ; 
Cold  is  his  bosom  to  the  torch  of  love. 
Within  the  rosy  wreath,  which  twines  his  head« 
The  wizard  Care  tormenting  thorns  has  spread  ; 
The  scene  around  with  gloomy  vapour  chills. 
When  cheerful  sunshine  warms  the  distant  hills, 
Persuades  the  wre^h  the  soft  and  silken  band 

SO     Of  love  parental  rudely  chafes  his  hand  ; 

That  Time  his  pinion  poised,  his  sands  have  stopt^ 
And  from  his  feeble  grasp  the  scythe  has  dropt. 
For  Hope  had  whispered,  "  tardy  Tin|e  shall  bring 
Freedom,  and  peace,  and  rapture  on  liis  wing  :" 
When  Time  arrived,  he  gave  desired  release. 
And,  with  exchange  of  sorrow,  brought  increase  ; 
He  left  Experience  there,  a  reverend  sage. 
Of  youthful  strength,  with  outward  signs  of  age, 
Like  an  old  oak,  successive  centuries  crowned, 

49    The  bark  decayed,  tlie  root  and  heart  are  sounfk 


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Uli^  WHiTWXLL'a  fOXUs  479 

To  him  the  traveller  now  approaching  criedi 

Wilt  thou  direct  my  path  ?    The  sage  replied. 

Advice  is  all  I  give...so  fate  decreed 

For  me  to  follow.,  .thou  aloue  must  lead  : 

As  we  advance,  each  course  shall  be  displayed 

Where  wisdom  guides,  or  pleasure  would  persuade* 

I  mark  the  flight  of  Time  through  every  stage 

Of  human  life,  from  infancy  to  age. 

Behold  this  mirrour,  whose  reflective  power, 
50     Just  like  the  past,  presents  the  future  hour  j 

The  opposing  figures  differ  but  in  name, 

To  the  omniscient  eye  they  are  the  same. 

He  looked,  and  there  beheld  a  numerous  train. 

Whose  wandering  feet  impressed  a  flowery  plaui  ; 

Beyond  their  path  a  rugged  mountain  spread. 

Steep  the  ascent ;  a  temple  crowned  its  head. 

The  flowery  plain,  alone  witli  visions  bright. 

Swims  in  gay  splendour  on  his  ravished  sight. 

Commence  thy  task,  Experience,  now  describe 
40     The  life  and  manners  of  each  varied  tribe. 

The  sage  begins  :...0n  yonder  plain  reside 

The  progeny  of  Indolence  and  Pride.  ^  , 

Those,  who,  without  desert  or  labour,  claim 

The  just  reward,  reserved  for  virtuous  fame- 
Here  Errour  lurks  in  ambush  for  his  prey, 

Skilled  to  decoy  the  victim,  then  betray. 

Here  blindfold  reason  gropes,  by  him  misled, 

Falls  in  the  net  seducive  pleasure  spread. 

Wealth  rolls  his  wave,  and  rising  from  the  stream^ 
70    A  swarm  of  follies  sport  in  Fortune's  beam  ;  ^ 

Let  the  wind  rise,  and  clouds  the  sky  o'er-cast. 

The  fluttering  insects  scatter  in  the  blast. 
-     Here  F'aahion  reigns,  her  silken  banner  flies, 

Bright  with  a  thousand  ever-changing  dies. 

In  paradise  was  born  the  imperial  dame, 

%\n  was  her  mother,  and  her  sire  was  Shame. 

Her  hands,  instructed  by  her  tutress  Taste, 

First  shaped  the  modest  fig-leaf  to  the  waist, 

The  cestus*  next  her  graceful  fingers  wove, 
to    Lent  to  Satumia  to  reclaim  her  Jove  ; 

The  gallant  chivalry  of  England  wears 

That  truant  garter  she  adorned  with  stars. 

The  frail,  the  noble  Salisbury  blushed  to  own 

This  rich  tiara  of  Britannia's  crown.... 

....Like  Jove  dethroned  her  sire,   she  then  designed 

The  univeraal  conquest  of  mankind. 

Thus  her  edict..."  a  traitor  him  proclaim, 

Whose  cheek  shall  wear  the  livery  of  Shame. 

None  but  the  vulgar  blush. ..our  sovereign  word 
90    Expelled  the  demon  to  the  swinish  herd... 

'  The  •#t|itf,  th€  l^dle  of  Vvm^  i«  4a8crib«d  ia  tUe  V^9A,  book  XV. 

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4m  iMi.  IrAitWttl'l  foM^ 

The  Gracctj  iliaddi  trf  homnif  h)  thh  qtitttt. 

And  modest  Vilttit,  IfeftHbl  to  b^  seen, 

And  Pleasure  and  the  ttiiraw  here  i'tsort, 

The  lover's  panthetih  is  Ftohioh^j  eourt. 

A  rainbow  (fia^m  her  temples  crottns, 

And  a  camdfttrti  ttittt  htt*  xraMt  snrtouhd*  ; 

With  every  inmion,  hfef  cAnrtce  sto  ^tratigt*) 

Her  robeS)  their  size,  and  shape,  *ar»d  dolour  cliangfe  ; 

In  graceful  folds  amuhd  htt  feet  they  Wind, 

100  Or  fall  in  flowing  tiegfigtinct  behind. 
Now  in  transparent  dripcVy  displayed, 
Increase  the  beauties  tlV6y  J)^ettnd  t6  ihadfe. 
By  Pleasure's  band  tht  court  ot"  Fashion  graced, 
If  Virtue  ddjn  to  guide  tht  hattd  of  I'aste, 
Her  sovereign  powtr  bbth  Wit  and  Wisdom  own. 
And  kaeeling,  sifeit*  aiteglante  at  her  throne. 
But  this  inconstant,  this  capricioiis  powef 
Hemoves  a  fiivouritfe  «tcry  passihg  hour, 
When  Vice  beneath  the  mask  of  Pltasut*  sWays, 

110  Indignant  Virtue  ^Bcnly  tibfcys. 

Then  mingled  ranks  nb  marks  distihct  express, 
Opposed  in  manners,  but  tdike  in  dress. 
In  like  array,  the  sjjottive,  the  demure. 
The  spotless  vestal,  and  the  Frail  impure. 
Thus  the  same  fight  trtuispatent  Oaintings  claim, 
For  the  cold  moonbeatn  and  the  fiimace  fiartic. 
If  Vice  appear,  she  comes  in  deep  disguise. 
The  garb  which  wit  adorned  by  taste  supplier  ; 
Then  she  conceals  tier  wild,  Ecentiou^  diri 

120  Her  boisterous  acceht,  her  intrepid  stare. 

Her  rough  salute,  hel*  eheek  with  rouge  itnbued, 
Which  mocks  the  flmh  bf  ihnocence  subdtied. 
Liet  folly,  pleasure,  whim,  altetttate  reigti, 
So  Vice  be  banished  with  het  hvrlesd  train. 
Be  not,  my  pupil,  sage  Extjeriente  said, 
By  her  insidious  blandishment  misted  i 
Like  him  who  sailed  the  syteh  ^h6re  along. 
Deaf  be  thine  ear,  nor  Ust  the  irttching  Song. 
For  when  such  meteors  banefitl  influence  shed, 

130  Fools  gape  and  gaze  at  mischief,  wise  tnen  dread. 
Be  thou  advised  ;  ahd  if  thy  curious  eye 
Pursue  their  course  eccentrick  through  the  sky, 
When  o'er  the  disk  of  deceney  they  pass, 
"  See  but  in  part,  and  darkly  through  a  glass.'* 

Tired  of  this  prospect,  \}t  the  stenery  changed  ; 
Far  on  the  plain  see  yondet  crowd  arranged. 
The  mercenary  troop  are  clothed  and  paid 
By  Science^  not  for  service,  but  parade  ; 
Who  scorns  in  secret  ber  degenerate  train, 
UO  Their  wisdom  cunningi  and  their  art  chicane.. 


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Here  are  a  band,  by  no  employ  disgraced ; 
All  their  vocation  to  be  men  of  taste  : 
A  living  catalogoe,  Which  never  looks 
Beyond  the  title,  size,  and  price  of  books  ; 
This  stupid  signpost  stands  at  Leamtog's  door. 
Tells,  «  Entertainment  here,*'  but  knows  no  more. 
The  spawn  of  Idleness,  a  vagrant  crew, 
Base  sons  of  Genius,  whom  he  never  knew, 
Complain,  unless  a  brazen  pillar  rise* 
150  To  note  their  fame — ^neglected  merit  dies  ; 
Bid  the  revolving  world  its  course  forbear, 
To  hear  a  sonnet— i-to  Melissa's  hair. 
Are  they  to  learn,  the  author  should  tmite 
Wisdom  with  wit,  and  profit  with  defight  ? 
Who  thank  the  shower  denied  the  thirsty  phdii, 
Were  all  its  blessings  scattered  on  the  main  ? 
If  the  cold  soil  no  genial  heat  expand  ; 
The  sunbeam  wasted  on  the  desart  sand  ? 

As  they  proceed  within  the  mirrour  ris© 
160  A  sable  group,  and  thus  Experience  cries, 
Ruin  to  them  who  dare  mislead  mankind  i 
Shut  their  own  eyes,  and  then  direct  the  blind  j 
Ruin  to  those  who  gain  dishonest  bread 
With  lips  unclean — unconsecrated  head  ! 
Who  from  the  worship  of  the  temple  rove 
To  the  high  hill,  or  the  unhallowed  grove  ; 
Unlicensed  on  the  sacred  offering  feast, 
Degrade  Heaven's  altar,  and  defraud  his  priest. 
Empiricks  who  destroy  without  control, 
f70  The  moral  constitution  of  the  soul  ; 

Promise  to  free  the  heart  from  sinful  stain, 
As  quacks  draw  teeth,  nor  give  the  patient  fain. 
To  heal  the  broken  spirit,  they  infuse 
Some  grand  specifick  "  for  an  inward  bruise /'t 
Say,  can  the  patent  opiate  they  advise, 
Compose  to  sleep  the  worm  which  never  dies  ; 
Their  lodons  purify  from  guilty  fears. 
Like  bitter  floods  of  penitence  and  tears  f 
To  restrain  vice  and  folly  is  their  plan, 
180  Not  by  the  fear  of  God,  but  fear  of  man  ; 
Unless  the  offence  be  known,  no  law  is  brokey 
And  future  recompense  for  crime,  a  joke. 
Oh,  strip  the  miscreants  of  the  rcbe  they  stain. 
And  drive  them  from  the  altar  they  profane. 

Vain  were  the  task,  and  endless,  to  describe 
,Of  shape,  so  varied,  each  degenerate  tribe 

•  — monumentum  acris  perennius.  Hor. 

t  — telling  me  the  soy'reigpnest  thinr  on  ^tfth 
Was  parmacitT  §at  an  iuward  hnut«.       $hak. 
Vol  III.  No.  9.  3N 


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Mt  '  V&.  W  HIT  WELL- S  POSM^ 

Of  vile  impostors  ;  wretches,  who  degrade 
A  liberal  science  to  a  menial  .trade 
Riches  and  power  their  sordid  sohIs  aflame  ; 
Content  with  fortutie,  tliey  deserve  not  fame. 
These  haunt  the  Fonlm...these  the  law  di&f^race. 
Like  birds  of  prejr,  who  wear  the  human   face, 
Voracious  harpies,  they  the  food  deftle, 
By  rapine  seized,  that  none  may  share  the  spoil. 
They  can  fix  bounds,  or  landmartLS  can  remove, 
Last  testaments  at  pleasure  break>  or  prove ; 
To  furnish  proof,  in  perjury  they  trade, 
Invent  an  oath,  or  sell  one  ready  made,. 
And  from  a  chaos  of  discordant  lies^ 
200  Systems  elaborately  harmomze. 

If  raised  by  fortune,  though  by  crime  debased, 
Have  these  the  senatorial  robe  disgraced  ? 
They  have  a  patient  ear,  smiles  at  command, 
A  supple  body,  an  extended  hand, 
A  rapid  sight  to  instantly  decide 
Which  is  the  vwak,  and  which  the  stfongest  side  ; 
For  right  or  wrong  indifferently  they  vote, 
Change  principle  or  party  with  their  coat. 

'  There  is  to  man,  and  so  there  is  to  heaveny 

210  A  crime  so  black  it  cannot  be  forgiven  I 
'Tis  not  of  human  growth  ;  the  root  is  laid 
In  hell,  and  earth  the  branches  overshade  ; 
It  is  the  sin  of  fiends,  apostates  base. 
Who  shun  the  light  which  flashes  in  their  face. 
Whose  lips  express  the  lie  the  heart  denies. 
And  the  conviction  wliich  it  feels,  defies  ; 
The  patient  power,  protecting  them,  deride, 
And  spurn  the  bounty  wliich  their  wants  supplied* 
Who  scatter,  like  a  mist,  delusion  round, 

2^0  Folly  to  blindjand  ignorance  to  confound^ 
When  they  obscure  tlie  light  of  tniith  divine,  ^ 
Then,  sprung  from  filth,  these  exhalations  shine. 

Sir,  you  mean  me  !   some  vraming  coriscienoe  crks. 
You  mean  yourself.  Experience  replies^: 
Full  many  a  tedious  corner  I  go  round. 
Lest,  my  good  friend,  I  trespass  on  your  ground. 
Who  sat  ? — the  picture  of  a  dog  I  drew. 
Not  «  Tray,*  nor  Blanch,  nor  Sweetheart"— Sir,  did  you  I 
Indeed  no  fency  portraits  were  designed, 
230  Far  less  the  individual—but  the  kind. 
I'm  no  assassin,  murdering  in  the  dark, 
'Tis  not  the  ybd/...the  JbUy  is  my  mark  ; 
Swift  flies  the  vagrant  arrow  from  the  slringy 
Shot  at  a  venture,  it  may  pierce  a  king. 

• ^the  little  dort, 

Trj^,  Bhaich^  and  Sweetheart,  tee  they  bark  at  me.      Sha^t^-  aw, 


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489 


When  timid  friends  retire,  and  hide  their  head 
Behind  the  gathering  cloud  misfortune  spread  ; 
When  secret  slander  bids  l^r  ruffian  band 
«  Strike  the  death  blow,  but  hide  the  guilty  hand," 
And  with  the  point  of  her  envenomed  dart 

240  Slowly  engraves  her  memory  on  the  heart  ; 
Then  he  ^\i  change...not  firindfiiey  but  friaccj 
Far  worse  than  death,  the  patnot  fears  disgrace  ;* 
With  dignified  retirement  live  content. 
Self-satisfied,  contemplate  life  well  spent. 
And  when  at  last  his  country  shall  be  just,    . 
Malice  and  envy  buried  with  the  dust, 
Then  from  the  tomb,  ascending  to  the  skies, 
Truth's  injured  spirit,  just  released,  shall  rise  ; 
There  memory  fcek  her  power  of  voice  too  weak, 

250  There  kneeling  Gratitude,  too  full  to  speak, 
His  eye  with  mute,  but  most  expressive  praise, 
In  yonder  temple  views  with  stead^ist  gaze, 
Beyond  the  grasp  of  Tiioe,  ,immoK«il  F^iue 
Unite  to  Washington's  her  Adams'  name. 

Experience  cc^ed  ;    his  eyes  the  traveller  cast 
Within  the  mirrour,  to  review  the  past  ; 
A  straight  and  narrow  path  the  plaip  divides. 
Which  to  the  rugged  mountain's  summit  guides. 
A-bove,  her  temple  stood.;    the  pillars  rise 

•260   Founded  on  adamant,  and  .reach  the  skies. 
Let  us  approach,  lie  ci^ied,  the  sacred  fane, 
Nor  longer  traverse  this  ignoble  .plain. 
To  him  the  sage  Replied,  with  frown  severe. 
Yet,  as  he  spoke,  restrained  the  falling  tear,.*.. 
Just  undeceived?    why  hast  thou  spent  the  day 
"Where  fashion,  folly,  vice,  and  pleasure  stray  ? 
Now  thy  limbs  tptter,  scarce  the  blood  maintaiits 
Its  lazy  current  through  thy  sUfiening  veins  ; 
Weary  and  weak,  'tis  now  too  late  to  climb 

^70   The  mount ;   behold  the  downward  course  of  Time 
TVtia  was  no  mirrour j  but  a  vacant  frame ^ 
To  teach  thecy  past  and  future  are  the  same. 
What  seemed  illusive  to  thuie  eyes,  was  true  ; 
What  seemed  reflectign,  was  the  distant  view. 
Not  an  amused  spectator  hast  thou  been. 
Thou  wert  a  real  actor  in  the  scene. 
The  plain,  the  mountain,  both  appeared  in  sight  ; 
This  promised  glory,  that  ensured  delight. 
Reason  subdued,  thy  conquering  senses  chose, 

^SO    Averse  to  toil,  inglorious  repose. 

Farewell  !    and  learn,  'tis  man's  disastrous  fate, 
Tinite  fic^  too  aoon^  Exfterience  cornea  too  late. 

Pcj  usque  Ictho  flagitium  timet  Ho»- 


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4(14  >^*  VHJTWKLL'a  roEx. 

He  eeated.    With  languid  look  the  trai^eller  glanced 
The  distant  point  from  whence  he  first  advanced  i 
Now  far  behind  himt  dwindling  in  his  sight, 
With  swiftest  pinion  Time  pursued  his  ffight  ; 
He  with  the  western  sun  declining  &st, 
The  outward  circle  of  the  horizon  past* 
No  more  like  him  the  '^  eastern  hill  to  climb" ; 
J90  Death  ia  io  man  the  eternal  ni^ht  qf  Time. 

NOTES. 
That  truant  garter^  thi  adorned  vuth  «tar#.— Line  183. 
The  order  of  the  garter  was  instituted  by  Edward  III»  in  the  ^ar  1350. 
Many  events,  which  belong  to  remote  periods  of  English  history,  are  involred  in 
obscurity.     Its  origin  has  been  attributed  to  an  accident,  which  is  related  to  hare 
happened  to  the  countess  of  Salisbury,  the  mistress  of  Edward.    Pei^aps  otker 
conjectures  are  yiore  plausible,  and  have  nearer  iBaitj  to  troth ;  bat,  til  tfat 
world  knows,  truth  better  suits  the  purpose  of  the  hiftorian  than  tbti  port^ 
Charles  I.  aflerwards  added  the  Har  to  the  insignia  of  the  order. 

Voradoiu  harpies^  they  the  food  defile- — L.  IW. 
They  are  described  in  the  third  book  of  the  iCneid : 

Trifthu  haad  nife  monftrum,  nee  Tcvlor  ulla 
Pestli,  tc  vU  Deom  Stygito  tete  extuUt  ondii 
Vlr{iaei  v«lucnmi  vnmif 

unoequc  maniu  &  palOda  temper 
Ora  fame. 

Han^f  &  Bi»SQi»  quadont  dangoifixis  alas 
Dlripiuntqtie  dapes,  contaftuque  omnia  foedaat 
Immoodo :  turn  voa  tetnim  4ira  later  oddnok 
Rursum  In  tcccssu  longo*  tub  nipe  cavaU 
Arboribus  claoai  circam  atque  horreoUboi  umblH 
Instniimtit  meoaas,  ariiaae  reponiimia  ignem. 
Rursum  ex  diveno  caeU,  cBclique  latebrii, 
Turba  ao^na  pra»dam  pcdibua  ctocttinvolat  uacl^ 
PoUait  ora  dapes        > 

Invadunt  socil  Bt  novm  prvlU  ttataat 
Obacaenat  p«lagl  ferro  hsdare  volucres 
8ed  neque  vim  {^umJi  allam,  nee  Tulnert  t«vgo 
Acdpknt. 

If  this  were  not  narrative,  the  nefarious  practice*  of  an  onijrincipled  attonef 
could  not  be  more  fiuthfuUy  delineated  in  aUetrericai  representation.  We  in- 
stdatly  know  the  griping  talons,  the  pale  famished  visa^,  the  noisy  nonsenie, 
"  raagnis  clang^ribus  alas.*'  We  see  him  impertinently  intrude  into  the  recesset 
of  doraestick  retirement,  an  unwelcome  guest  both  at  the  table  and  the  aHir. 
If  his  conduct  provoke  indignation,  he  nei&er  feels,  nor  regards  inchirKteroT 
person,  disgrace  or  chastisement 

"  ...  jieque  vim  |dumis  ullam,  nee  vulnera  tergo 

**  Accipiunt" 

Have  thete  the  senatorial  robe  disgraced .'— L.  3W. 
In  ancient  Rome,  ebmience  was  principally  confined  to  the  senate  and  the  ib> 
rum.  Having  described  characters  who  disgrace  the  bar,  we  proceed  to  muk 
others  engaged  in  political  pursuits.  The  term,  senatorial*  i»  here  opposed  to  the 
term,  forensick,  and  is  not  intended  for  a  particular  body,  but  foe  all  who  didiofr' 
our  the  legislative  station,  whether  at  present  in  publick  or  private  life.  By  ill* 
nature  more  than  ignorance  it  may  be  invidiously  misapplied. 

Svjtft  flies  the  vagrant  arrow  frofn  the  etrimgj^^l^.  353.^ 
Experience  may  not  be  so  happy  in  this  allusion  to  the  sacred  wrilings  as  to  te 
readily  understood.  Chronicles,  b.  II.  chap,  xviii.  "  And  a  certain  man  drew  a 
bow  at  a  venture,  and  smote  the  king  between  the  joints  of  the  harness,"  &c-— 
He  intends  to  illustrate  bis  preceding  remarks....He  aims  at  the  whole  6ock,  be 
does  not  select  a  particular  bird.  Yet  small  and  great  bsinr  equally  expose^  it 
may  happen  that  one  of  the  leaders  may  be  casually  wounded  by  his  arrow. 


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THE  BOSTON  REVIEW. 

SEPTEMBER,    1806. 


bltnrer.    Nam  ego  dicere   Tcrum   aituevL     Neque   ulli  patkntiw   reprcheodantur,  quam  qui 
9  Itodaci  aaarcotBT.n     fttny. 


ARTICLE  38, 

Coiidiidt4  firom  page  4aS. 

Fb/.  /.  Part  L  of  The  Mvf  Cyclic 
pedLcj  out  Universal  Dictionary  of 
Arts  and  SdeTteei,  By  Abraham 
Meea^  Fir^  AvMrkan  edition, 
4/0.     Philadelphia. 

M^B  now  proceed  to  expose  other 
important '  alterations,  which  the 
Anierican  editors  have  not  thought 
J)roper  particularly  to  indicate  to 
their  readers. 

The  article  Accommodation 
in  Theology  in  the  EnglUh  edition 
consists  of  about  four  columns  and 
«  Mf  in  which  compass  much 
cadous  and  interesting  learnmg  is 
introduced  from  several  eminent 
writers.  In  the  American  edition 
all  this  is  reduced  to  a  very  mea- 
gre h^lf-column,  or  about  one 
ninth  part  of  the  original.  Twq 
ivhole  imges  are  thus  struck  out, 
and  the  reader  is  not  informed  of 
it  I  But  this  is  not  all.  A  refer* 
CTkccy  which  Dr.  Rees  makes  to  a- 
nother  part  of  the  work,  the  arti^ 
cle  Quotation,  where  the  subject 
^Tould  doubtless  be  resumed,  is  aN 
so  suppressed.  Are  we  to  under- 
stand by  this,  that  the  American 
editors  intend  to  suppress  th^ 
-whole  article,  to  which  this  refer* 
ence  is  made  \  If  such  is  to  b« 
the  management  in  the  succeeding 
wolumes,  the  publick,  we  tru&t| 
\Aiil  manifest  that  indignaticnp 
•%s  j.icb  is  due  to  conduct  worthy  of 
tUv  dai'kjestagcs  of  monkish  cun«» 
r»in{-. 


AnAM  in  Biografihy  is  another 
example  of  numerous  and  unwar« 
rantable  deviations  from  the  origi-* 
nal  work  ;  and  none  of  these  alte- 
rations, though  among  the  most 
important  in  the  volume,  are  de- 
signated by  any  mark.  It  should 
be  observed  also,  that  the  conclud- 
ing sentence  of  a  paragraph  in  the 
original  article  rendered  it  neces* 
sary  to  make  a  reference  to  the 
articles,  Fali.  of  Majt  and  Ori- 
ginal Sin.  That  sentence  i« 
struck  out  of  the  American  edition, 
and  with  it  the  rtference^  and  a 
new  sentence  of  a  very  different 
import  is  substituted  by  tlie  Ame- 
rican editors  ;  from  wliich  it  is  to 
be  prcsumed,that  those  two  impor- 
tant articles  are  to  be  wholly  omit- 
ted. This  has  proceeded,  un- 
doubtedly, from  the  same  xnotivef 
with  the  suppression  of  the  refer- 
ence in  the  other  instance  we  men- 
tioned. We  leave  the  liberal- 
minded  reader  te  determine  wha< 
name  such  conduct  deserves. 

We  forbear  extending  our  re* 
marks  upon  other  articles,in  whicb 
similar  mutilations  have  been 
made)  but  we  think  some^  of  our 
readei-s  will  feel  obliged  to  us,  if 
we  point  out  such  as  we  have  dis« 
covered,  and  leave  the  comparison 
pf  them  uith  the  original  to  the 
leisure  of  individuals.  And  here 
we  would  oliscrve,  that  it  is  not 
merely  in  articles  of  magnijtude 
that  such  reprehensible  mutilation^ 
are  made  ;  the  same  spiiit  may  be 
VraQod    from  the  largest  tq  the 


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486 


mBKS*  CTCLOPBDlir 


snudlest  "Articles  of  t  pafrtknlar 
lundf  tbrooghoilt  die  Tolume. 

The  following  ^ure  the  prhidpal 
TnutilationSf  in  addition  to  the  pte* 
ceding^  which  wu  have  discorered. 

Absurihtt-*— A  small  part  of 
thir  afddfe  is  etnick  mK. 

Actual  Sim— This  article  bat 
suffered  a  amall  and  not  important 
retrenchipent. 

Ado PTiow  in  Throiogy  is  shame- 
fqHj  miitilated,  and  an  addition 
is  made  near  the  end  of  it,  •which 
ought  to  have  been  distinguished 
as  an  Ametican  alteration. 

AtonATtoK  (Unolute — A  part 
of  this  little  .  article  has  been 
lopped  off. 

ABitiAifs^— This  article  is  also 
eonsideraUy  mutilated ;  and  of 
thenejtt, 

AETirs,  we  can  say  something 
mdre  ;  fbr  here  the  learned  Ame- 
rican editors,  who  "  correct"  and 
«  revise"  this  edition,  have,  by  ex- 
punging one  of  Rees'  references 
to  Gibbon's  History,  while  they 
retain  the  other,  fallen  into  the 
amusing  absurdity  of  referring  to 
that  author  With  ^  ubi  tmfiray  wht^n 
they  have  not  mentioned  his  His- 
tory before  yd  the  whole  article  ! 

Affix  in  Qrammar  has  several 
triitih^  alterations,  wliich  we  leave 
the  Hebrew  scholar  to  estimate, 
ind  we  finish  our  Hst  with 

AoNocTTAC,  where  there  is  a  sup- 
pression,which  most  readers  would 
Chink  of  importance. 

These  are  the  principal  varia- 
tions of  magnitude  which  we 
have  noted  in  our  copy  of  the  Cy- 
clopxdia  ;  but,  as  we  have  not 
gone  through  every  article  with 
equal  attention,  it  is  highly  proba- 
ble that  many  have  escaped  us. 

We  shall  close  this  part  of  bur 
Review  with  a  few  general  re- 
marks. One  of  the  first  reflec- 
tions, which  the  reader  will  make 
when  he  ariives  at  the  end  of  this 


valtm:ie  will  be,  upon/Ar  permit 
ihamierJLn  which  the  different  class- 
es of  articles  are  republished.  He 
cannot  but  observe  the  scrupulous 
carey  with  which  insignificant 
American  additions  or  alterations 
ill  di^  sciefUifick  articles  arc  distin- 
guished by  brackets  ;  while  the 
theological  articles,  and  such  as  are 
coMiected  w;ith  them,  in  whkh  the 
most  important  changes  hare  been 
made,  ai^  mutilated  -without  such 
notice  to  the  reader. 

Why  this  difference  ?  If  the 
American  editors  do  not  s^^ree 
wjlth  Dr.  Rees  in  religious  s»iU- 
ments ;  if  they  believe  hisopinioDS 
to  be  such  as  the  Scriptures  do 
not  warrant,  let  thetn  openly  con- 
fute him  ;  hut  let  them  alkrw  him 
to  be  heard  as  well  as  thtfMdve^^ 
and  above  all  let  them  not  stigma* 
tize  themselves  by  undertaking  to 
pass  off  their  own  sentiments  as 
those  of  that  learned  divine  or  his 
associates.  And  we  have  the 
greater  right  to  demafid  of  the 
American  publisher  (from  his  own 
prospectus)  that  a  fair  hearing 
should  be  given  to  all  denomina- 
tions of  persons,  especially  upon 
theological  questions  ;  for  in' the 
Untied  Si  a  tea  religious  sects  are 
more  various,  and  religious  liberty 
is  supposed  to  be  enjoyed  in  a 
greater  degree,  than  in  almost  any 
other  place  on  the  globe  ;  and  the 
American  publisher  of  the  Cyclo- 
paedia, among  other  recommenda- 
tions of  his  edition,  informs  his 
subscribers  that  it  is  to  be  "  Adept" 
ed  to  this  country  ;"  from  which 
general  recommendation,  he  surer 
ly  could  never  mean  to  except  the 
theological  part  of  the  publicadoQ 
— the  very  part  vrhich  in  thi» 
country  should  be  the  least  tainted 
with  prejudice. 

We  shall  now  point  out  some  of 
the  principal  additions  and  iiQ?* 
provements  in  this  editioa. 


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SEES*  CTCLOFEDIJl. 


4^r 


.  After  half  a  dozen  trifling  arti- 
cles of  geography  (tak«n  from 
DicUonaried  and  Gazetteers  that 
are  ui  ev^^ry  body's  hands)  'which 
are  wholly  unworthy  of  a  place  in 
this  worl^  unless  it  is  to  contain  tc 
(QmfUeU  system  of  Geografihy,  wc 
come  to  the  life  of  Sir  Ralph 
ArkrckombY)  which  is  a  consi« 
derable  article,  but  appears  to  be 
taken  aJLtnost  verbatim  from  a  has^. 
ty  English  publication  of  little  au^ 
thority>  entitled  "  Public  Charac«> 
ters."  As  a  vaiiation  from  Dr. 
Rees'  edition,  k  ought  to  have 
hieen  defugnated,  and  the  authori- 
ty cited,  as  is  generally  done  in 
lus  biographical  articles^ 
,  The  article  Abortion  has 
been  somewhat  cnlai-getl. 

AasoRBENTS  is  considerably 
^gmented,  and  the  additional 
iaatt<;r  is  very  propeily  put  in 
brackets.  Whether  the  article  is 
im/iroved^  wc  leave  to  the  decision  dt 
gentlemen  of  the  faculty  ;  for  when 
doctors  disagree,  Reviewers  should 
not  be  obliged  to  decide.  We 
cannot,  however,  commend  the 
national  vanity,  displayed  in  these 
additions  ;  still  less  do  we  approve 
of  the  contemptuous  insinuation 
against  almost  all  the  medical  cha- 
ractei*s  in  England,  who  seem  to 
be  charged  with  adopting  the  theo- 
1^  of  cutaneous  ab^or/ition  merely 
from  prejudice,  because  "  they 
were  no  doubt  natives  of  England," 
and  were  <'  bred  up  in  the  firm 
belief  of  it."* 

The  article  Academies  has  al« 
ao  several  useful  additions ;  but  the 

♦  Since  writing  the  above,  wc  have 
seen  and  perused  the  Pennsylvania  In- 
augural Dissertations  referred  to  in  this 
article,  and,  .whatever  the  fkct  may  be 
respecting  the  absorption  of  oil  of  tur- 
pentine and  camphor  by  tlie  skin,  we 
are  far  from  thinking  that  the  experi- 
ments there  related  satisfactorily  estab- 
lish the  fact,  that  mercury  is  not  ab- 
ffOrh^d  by  or  through  th«  skia. 


arrangement  of  the  whole  article 
does  not  appear  tabejiiore  pcr<r 
spicuous  than  that  of  the  English 
edilMMH,  lyhich  has  been  deaerv^ly 
censured. 

Afkic  A  has  large  and  important 
additions  made  to  it  from  tlw  n*a- 
vels  of  Mr.  firowne  and  Mr.Uamen 
«ftan  I  This,  we  believe,  will  ber 
thooght  the  most  valuable  of  the; 
American  additions. 

Such  arc  tlie  principal  improve- 
ments we  have  remarked  in  thi» 
portion  of  the  work. 

We  observed  in  the  beginning; 
of  our  rk:view>  that  Mr.  firadibrd 
had  resolved  not  to  content  him- 
self with  giving  to  his  countrymen, 
a  mere  cofiy  of  Dr.  Rces'  Cyclo- 
pedia, but  promised  amendment; 
and  additional  We  presumed  from 
this,  that  he  had  engaged  "  literary 
and  scientifick  cliaracters,"  who 
would  faithfully  perCnrm  tliis  task ; 
but>  without  calling  in  question 
their  competency,  we  are  sorry  to 
find  they  have  been  so  negligent  as; 
to  suffer  many  errours  of  the  Eng- 
lish edition  to  be  copied  into  theirs 
in  the  most  servile  numner. 

They  tell  us,  after  Dr.  Rees,  un-. 
der  the  article  Aboarus,  that  the, 
authenticity  of  that  prince's  cor-! 
nespondence  with  our  Saviour,  has 
been  admitted  by  archbishop  Wake, 
although  the  contrary  is  the  fact, 
and  the  mistake  has  been  pointed 
out  in  an-  English  review  of  Uiis 
work.* 

Under  the  article  Abo,  a  town 
of  Sweden,  Dr.  Rees  mentions  a 
seminary  of  learaing  as  an  "  acad- 
emy," which  should  have  been  cal- 
led a  university,  according  to  the 
definition  given  by  the  author,  un- 
der the  article  Academy  in  the 
same  volunie.  It  is  a  little  extra- 
ordinary the  American  editors 
should  not  have  taken  notice  of  it^ 

•Sw  Brit.  Crit^ck.  vol  jxvi.  p.  2^%. 


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46ft 


Att«'  e¥cLdp£!>IA. 


trhen  It  hM  been  called  a  univtrsit^ 
in  Gutht^'d  ee<>graphy  for  many 
years  past.  The  i*oyal  high  court  of 
jxidkatttre,  at  this  place,  ia  said  by 
Dr.  Rees  to  be  the  only  ob€  ki  Fin- 
fend,  which  ia  not  true.  During 
the  reign  of  Guata^'us  III.  a  ainailar 
rojal  high  court  of  justice  waa  ea- 
tabliahed  at  Wam^  ipr  th«  northern 
district  of  Finland  ;  that  at  Abo 
being  for  the  southern  district. 

AcADEMT  i?rrw^— Mention  is 
here  made  of  this  body  as  now  in 
erdjitence  under  this  name  ;  and 
it  is  observed  that  they  meet  in  the 
Louvre,  in  an  apartment  "  now  cal- 
led r Academic  Frat^goise  ;"  and 
that  «  at  breaking  up,  forty  silrer 
ihedala  are  distributed  among 
them,  having  on  one  side  the  king 
efFrance*a  head,  and  on  the  reverse 
firottcteur  de  V Academic^'  *^C.  !  ! 
Thi&  is  surely  an  oversight,  but  it 
ia  an  oversight  that  will  amuse, 
rather  than  offend,  the  reader;  one 
i^ould  imagine,  however,  that  the 
incorrectness  of  the  article,  as  ap- 
I^lied  to  the  present  time,  must 
have  been  observed  by  the  Amen- 
can  editors,  when  at  the  distance 
of  only  two  or  three  pages  from  it, 
a  reference  is  made  to  the  [Na- 
tional] Institute,  of  which,  we 
believe,  the  old  Academy  spoken  of 
in  this  article,  or  rather  individual 
members  of  it,  now  form  one  of 
the  Claases. 

At  the  close  of  the  article  "Ac- 
cent, in  Grammar"  is  this  obser- 
vation— that  "  as  minutely  as  tlie 
accents  oi^orda  have  been  studied, 
those  oUcntencea  seem  to  have  been 
utterly  overlooked."  We  were 
surprised  at  this  remark,  and  es- 
pecially to  find  nothiiig  here  said 
of  the  labours  of  Walker,  who  has 
certainly  investigated  this  very  sub- 
ject (if  we  apprehend  the  force  of 
the  remark)  with  great  success. 
This  is,  upon  the  whole,  an  admir- 
able article— otiet)f  the  beat  in  the 


work  ;  but  the  remark  above  qiK)t« 
cd  is  cettainjy  incorrect. 

hcT of  Fmth^oT oHto  daft-^Vf^ 
are  here  informed  (in  what  we  take 
to  be  an  extract  from  Dr.  Geddca* 
Tracts)  of  the  manner  of  burning 
hercticks,  as  practised  by  the  -in^ 
qtdsitiim  ;  and  in  the  course  of  the 
narrative  it  is  said,  that "  a  scaffbkl 
is  erected  in  the  Terreiro  de  Paco 
[Terreiro  do  Pa9o]  big  ewmgh  for 
two  or  three  thousand  people^"  &c. 
As  this  paragraph  here  stands,  it 
docs  not  appear  where,  or  what, 
the  Terreiro  do  Pago  is,  and  the 
uninformed  reader  would  be  likely 
to  conclude  that  it  is  an  appropriate 
place,  in  all  Roman  CathoUc  court* 
tritay  for  burning  heretlcks ;  where- 
as the  fact  is,  and  we  presume  it 
so  appears  in  the  Tracts  here  quot- 
ed, that  the  Terreiro  do  Pa^o  is  a 
publiclt  square  in  Lisbon ;  and,  we 
presume.  Dr.  Geddes  is  here  de- 
scribing the  ceremony  of  burning, 
as  practised  in  Lisbon^  and  not  in 
Roman  Catholic  countries  in  gen- 
eraL  It  would  have  been  proper, 
also,  for  the  information  of  the 
younger  class  of  readers,  to  have 
added  to  Dr.  G.'s  account,  that  this 
horiible  ceremony  has  rtot  been 
witnessed  in  Lisbon,  nor,  we  be- 
lieve, in  any  other  Catholic  coun- 
try, for  many  years. 

AcoSTA,  Joseph — We  are  here 
informed,  that  Acosta  wrote  a 
Miturcdl  and  Morall  Hiatory  of  the 
tVeat'Indieay  BXvdi  that  it  was  first 
printed  in  Sfianiah,  in  1591,  and  in 
French^  in  1 600.  As  this  is  one  of 
the  most  interesting  of  the  early 
works  upon  America^  the  American 
editors  might  have  added,  that  it 
was  also  printed  in  EngHah^  with 
additions,  London,  1604. 

Adolphus,  Frederick — ^king  of 
Sweden,  succeeded  to  the  govern- 
ment in  175l,Ai*/wc«  not  the  aon 
qfhia  firedecewpr  Fredtrieky  who 
had  no  chiWi-eft  by  bk^  Queen -W- 


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KXES'  CTCLOt^EDlA. 


481 


tdqa,  sister  of  Charles  XII.  Ad. 
^rcd.  was  chosen  successor  to  the 
crown  by  the  estates  of  the  king- 
dom, in  1742  or  43,  and  bore  the 
titie  of  Crown-'Prtncej  or  heif  to 
crown,  until  his  accession  to  the 
thvone,  at  the  death  of  Frederick, 
in  1751. 

We  hare  not  selected  these  er- 
row%  for  the  purpose  of  depi^eciat- 
ing  the  value  of  the  American  edi* 
tidin^  bat  as  evidence  of  a  degree  of 
negligence  that  was  not  to  have 
been  expected  in  the  second  im- 
pression of  a  work,  which  the  pub- 
lisher sends  out  as  «  revised"  and 
^  corrected*'  by  ^<  several  literary 
jmd  sdentifick'*  characters  in  this 
cotm^y.  We  are  also  the  more 
pRMicular  in  our  remarks  at  this 
«iyrly  stage  of  the  publication  that 
there  may  he  the  less  room  for 
ammadversion  in  the  suceeeding 
irolitines  ;  and  irom  the  sfiame  mo- 
tjiyes  we  would  observe,  that  tiie 
iyfiografihical  errours  seem  to  be 
Rdjpr^  numerous  than  we  have  usu- 
ally found  in  the  Pfdladelphia  edi- 
tions ;  though,  perhaps  not  more 
in  proportioa  than  should  be  ex- 
j;>ecled,  from  the  difficulty  of  exe- 
cution of  works  like  the  present. 
We  shaU  subjoin  a  list  of  the  more 
important  of  those  which  we  have 
iK)ted  in  our  copy. 

We  have  now  finished  our  ex- 
amination of  the  first  half-volume 
x>f  the  Cyclopedia  ;  and,  notwith- 
3ltaading  we  have,  as  our  duty  to 
.the  publick  demanded,  spoken 
without  reserve  of  the  very  excep- 
tionable matmer  in  which  ceitain 
parts  of  it  arc  i*e-published,  yet  we 
cannot  but  commend  the  enter- 
prising spirit  of  Mr.  Bradford,  who 
'4ias  ventured  upon  the  re-publica- 
tion of  a  work  of  such  magnitude. 
While  we  frankly  avow,  too,  that 
-the  conducting  of  the  work,  as  this 
-first  half-volun^  has  been,  would, 
in  our  judgment,  be  a  forfeiture  of 

Vol.  III.  No.  9.  30 


the  libend  patronage  it  has  obtain- 
ed (to  say  notliing  of  it  as  an  un- 
justifiable infringement  of  the 
rights  of  Dr.  Rees,  a  fellow-mem- 
ber of  the  commonwealth  of  lite- 
rature), we  cannot  but  hope,  tliat 
Mr.  Bradford  will,  as  it  is  in  his 
power  to  do, by  real  improvement* 
*render  his  edition  superiour  to  the 
original  work  ;  and  that  for  the 
labour,  anxiety,  and  hazard,  to 
which  he  has  exposed  himself,  ha 
may  meet  with  ample  remunera- 
tion in  the  thanks,  as  well*  as  tlie 
pecuniary  favour  of  his  country- 
men. 

ERRATA. 

Article  Aalst  or  Alest,  This 
Second  name,  we  believe,  should 
be  Most, 

Abascia  and  As  ass  a — \n  the 
references  at  the  end  of  these  two 
articles,  for  Abhkas  rrarf  Afkhas. 

Abatement  in  Law^  for  "  cause 
or  art?ow,"/query,  if  not  ^^  cause  of 
action." 

Abbaisseur,  for  guartour  read 
^iiatuor. 

Abbreviator,  for  manore  read 
imnorc, 

AflftUTALs,  for  See  AaiUTTALt 
read  See  Abuttals. 

Under  the  article  Aberration, 
the  rule  for  finding  the  aberration 
in  right  ascension  is  certakify  in- 
correct, or  rather  defective.  This 
is  copied  from  Rees*  edition,  into 
which  it  appears  to  have  been  un- 
suspectingly transcribed  ivomHut* 
ton*s  Mathematical  Dictionary.     . 

Abelard,  for  dialects  rda4 
dialectics  ! 

Abbrkbthy  in  the  Biog.Britan. 
is  said  to  have  been  bom  on  the 
9th  Oct.  The  Cycl(^sdia  saysj 
the  19th  Oct.  1^80. 

Ariel,  we  believe,  is  a  small 
town  of  Estretttadura^  and  not  of 
Beira^  in  Portugal. 

AcACtA  bastard.  The  locust 
timber  is  hei'e^  by   a  whimsical 


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490 


bowditch's  chart. 


mistake,  said  to  be  used  for  ship- 
tunneUj  instead  of  trennels. 

Academics,  paragr.  3.  For 
three  see  is  of  Academies,  read 
three  sects  of  Academicks. 

Academy  A^aval  ;  a  I'eference 
is  here  made  to  Academy,  where 
(as  is  observed  in  an  English  Re- 
view) nothing  fuilher  is  said  about 
Naval  Academies. 

Academy  of  Arts  in  New-York. 
We  are  here  told  of  a  valuable  col- 
lection called  the  Pirancssi  8c  [and] 
Calcografihy,  Is  this  the  true  name, 
or  should  it  be  Piraneaian  Calcog' 
rajihy  ? 

*-  Acceleration,  col.  4th,  line 
8th,  from  the  bottom,  for  S-J  :  s-y 

read  S  ^  :  s^.  This  errour  is  also 
copied  from  the  English  edition. 

AcHiLLEU3f  in  ancient  geogra- 
phy is  misplaced,  as  is  also 

AcHiLLEus  or  Aquileus. 

Ache  (of  land)  col.  2.  for  ara 
gf  France^  read  area  of  France, 

Addition  iri  Mgebra  contains 
a  typographical  error  of  some  im- 
portance. 

In  Adhesion  in  Plnlo^ofihy^ 
col.  3.  at  bottom,  for  ^—-V  read 

Ad  libitum  is  used  in  musick, 
aot  for  ^^9ipiacere^^  but  for  a  fiiacere, 
■  Acrophobia  for  rafiping  read 
Vfrafifiing  I  &c.  See. 

AeRosTATloN,  ffractice  of  col.2. 
In  this  article  there  is  a  gross  er* 
rour  in  the  calculation  of  the  force 
of  ascension  of  balloons  of  diifer- 
ent  diameters.  This  error  also  is 
copied  from  Rees'  edition,  into 
.which  it  was  admitted  from  Hut- 
J^on's  Mal/i,  DkUonary, 

Near  the  bottom  of  the  same 
column  there  is  an  errour  copied 
also  from  the  Eng.  edit.  It  stands 
thus  :  "  between  If  and  l^jof  it." 
It  should  be,  "  between  If  and  ^.** 

Among 'the  omissions  we  should 
have  i^entic^ed  the  following  ar- 
ticles : 

Ac  AM— -See  Acltam  and  Akem, 


Ac  ANNi  or  AkakKi — see  Achem; 
which  are  to  be  found  in  the  Eng. 
edition,  but  not  in  the  American.* 

«  Since  the  above  was  written,  the  poMUher  of 
the  American  edition  hai  addrefled  the  folloving 
letter  to  a  nombcr  of  the  fubfcribcr*  In  thii  town 
and  TidnitT  io  reply  to  their  Rcicontlrance. 

••  Philadelphia,  Aug.  21,  rSotf. 

**  I  take  the  liberty  to  amwcr  your  comrouoi- 
cation  by  afluring  you  that  the  fubTcr&crs  wC^ 
not,  in  l^ture,  have  any  caalie  of  complaint  in  re- 
gard to  retrenchments,  as  I  determined,  imroedi* 
atcly  after  the  publication  of  the  firft  han  ««li»ne, 
'  to  give  the  text  of  theEnglifh  cdkion  entire,  ex- 

*  cept  when  erroneous  in  point  of  fact ;  and,  at 

*  the  fune  tfan&to  counteract  th«  tendency  of  anv 

*  pernicious  doctrines    which   it  might  be  fomd 

*  to  contain,  b^  additional  remarks  and  refer- 

*  enees  distinguiihed  by  crauhcts  from  the  orip- 
« inal  article.^ 

*<  You  will  be  pleafed  to  communicate  this  in- 
formation to  the  lubfcrfi>ers  of  the  remonflrances  ; 
and,  at  the  tame  tiine^aiTure  them  tint,  alHiou^ 
uo  exertion  has  been,  or  fhall  be  wantmg  00  my 
part  to  render  the  American  edltioQ  fopqkwr  to 
the  Englifh  copy,  1  wifli  nut  to  bind  a  imglc  fub- 
fcribcr to  the  fulfilment  of  hb  enpagcmcnu  with 
mc,  who  believes  that  I  have,  in  any  w^,  totcn- 
tention^IIy,  fcrftitcd  mine  with  the  uuhlick. 

*'  Although,  in  the  condudlng  of  toe  American 
edition  of  the  Cyclopedia,  the  Editors  will  not 
permit  themfdves  to  be  forced  from  what  they 
conceive  their  line  of  duty,  by  the  trifling  or  cap- 
tious objcdions  of  individuals,  or  the  fear  of  loting 
aiblcribcrs,  they  will,  always,  pay  refpeafol  at- 
tention to  fuggeftlGns  cr  remarks,  originating  in  a 
defire  to  afCftthem  in  thdr  labdurt,  and  tending 
to  the  improvement  of  the  work,  and  the  correc- 
tion of  erruurs  which,  but  for  foch  friendly  ad- 
vice, they  might  inadvertently  commit. 
I  have  tbc  honour  to  be ,  &c. 

SAMUEL  F.  BRADFORD.^ 


ART.  45. 

Chart  of  the  harbours  of  Salem^ 
Marblehead,  Bejfcrly^  and  Man^ 
chestcryfrom  a  survey  taken  m 
the  years  1804,  5,  and  6.  By 
Mrthaniei  Bowditchy  A.M.  a.a.s, 
asfiisted  by  Geo.  Burchmore  and 
JVm,  Rofies^  od,  vnth  a  fioTnJihkt 
of  "  Directions^  for  sailing  into 
those  harbours.  Bvo.fi/h  30.  The 
Chart  engraved  by  Hooker  & 
Fairman,  at  Salem,  1806  ;  the 
"  Directions"  printeci  at  New- 
buryport,  by  E.  M.  Bhmt. 

MR.  BowDiTCH  is  already  ad* 
vantag^ously  known  to  the  pub- 
lick  by  his  impt^ved'  Practical 
Akvigator^  a  publication  which  has 
superseded  every  other  of 'the  kind 
in  this  country.  The  « present 
work  will  not  lessen  his  deserved- 
ly high  reputation. 

In  our  review  of  June  last,  wc 
observed,  that  it  was  the  complaini 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


bowditch's  chae^. 


4fi 


Qf  every  seaman,  that  there  was 
not  a  chart  of  the  extensive  hhore% 
qf  JVeW'Etiglandy  u/ion  which  he 
could  rest  the  aafett/  of  hU  shifi^ 
We  rejoice  that  the  remark  has 
hardly  gone  from  us,  before  tlie 
grounds  of  this  complaint  are  in 
part  removed,  by  the  present  ad- 
mirable chart  of  one  of  the  most 
difficult  tracts  of  our  coast.  But 
our  joy  is  a  little  damped  by  the 
reflexion,  that  a  work  of  this  kind 
does  not  appear  under  the  sanc- 
tion of  government,  as  part  of  a 
general  survey  of  our  extensive 
territory.  It  is  certainly  among 
the  wonders  of  this  woi^derful  age, 
that  a  government,  whose  stability 
Is  believed  to  rest  on  the  diffusion 
of  knowledge  ;  whose  wealth  may 
be  said  to  spring  almost  wholly 
Irom  commerce  ;  whose  strength 
and  security  in  a  great  measure 
depend  upon  its  aea  faring  citizens ; 
"We  say,  ^t  is  a  little  extraordinary, 
tha^  a  government  of  this  nature 
should  be  so  insensible  to  the 
claims  of  a  large  proportion  of  its 
citizens,  and  so  indifferent  to  its 
own  honour,  as  to  suffer  enter- 
pri^ng  individuals  to  snatch  from 
it  the  only  kind  of  applause  which 
it  should  be  ambitious  to  obtain  ; 
we  mean  that  applause  which  is 
the  sure  consequence  of  promoting 
useful  national  works  ;  among 
which  maps  and  chails,  with  a 
commercial  people,  hold  the  first 
rank^  But  we  repress  complaint, 
and  enter  upon  our  subject. 

The  chart  befoi'e  us,  as  has 
been  observed  in  the  title,  compre- 
hends four  pf  the  harbours  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, 4>f  which  the  port  of 
Salem  is  the  most  inoportant.  The 
^mbcr  of  v^sseh  belonging  to 
Ihat  port,  many  of  which  being 
employ ^d  \n  the  ^$t  India  trade 
p^  of  a  large  l^urthen,  and  the  nu- 
inerous  sh9als.a9d  rpckain  its  har- 
|»Blib  tenured  ^  correct  chart  of 
itpecQliariy  necessary.    But  the 


necessity  of  this  publication,  and 
the  great  care  with  ,  which  it  has 
been  made,  will  best  appear  hy  tlie 
fcUowiug  extracts  from  the  "  Di- 
rections" which  accompany  the 
chart 

The  oi^y  chart  (says  Mr.  Bowditch) 
of  the  entrance  of  the  harbours  of  Sa- 
lem, Marbleliead,  Beverly,  and  Man- 
chester, is  that  published  from  the  sur- 
vey taken  by  Holland  and  his  assis- 
tants, just  before  the  American  rcvo- 
hitionary  war.  That  peiiod  was  par- 
ticularly unfavourable  for  obtaining  ai| 
accurate  survey  of  tlie  sea-coagt,  as  tlie 
Americans  were  ii^enenilly  opposed  to 
its  being  done  at  that  time,  fearing  that 
it  would  give  the  British  the  great  ad- 
vantage of  being  able  safely  to  enter 
with  their  armed  ships  into  .any  of  oi^r 
harbours.  In  consequence  of  this,  Hol- 
land received  but  little  assistance  fiom 
our  pilots,  in  exploring  the  ^unkenr 
ledges  and  shoals  off  our  harbours ;  and 
as  it  was  ahnost  impossible  to  discover 
tliem  without  such  assistance,  they 
were  generally  omitted  by  him.  Thii 
deficiency  renders  those  charts  in  a 
g^at  degree  useless,  though  they  are 
accurate  as  respects  the  bearings  and 
distances  of  the  islands  and  the  coast 

From  the  time  of  Holland's  suney, 
till  the  year  1794,  nothing  was  done  to- 
wards obtaining  a  more  accurate  chart. 
In  that  year  a  general  survey  of  the  stat« 
was  ordered  by  the  legislature  ;  but  it 
is  to  be  regretted  that  this  siurey  waa 
not  directed  to  be  made  in  a  manner 
calculated  to  ensure  accuracy  in  the  ex- 
ecution of  it.  Instead  of  appointing 
one  or  more  competent  persons  to  roaktt 
the  vshgle  8ur\'ey,  and  providing  die 
best  instruments  for  tlie  purpose,  the 
svn'ey  was  entrusted  to  the  several 
towns  ;  in  consequence  of  which,  Xhm 
resporuibility,  which  an  object  of  such 
magnitude  demanded,  was  divided  a- 
mong  so  many  different  surveyors  (not 
to  mention  other  soiu-ces  of  erroiu-,  as 
the  variety  of  iastrumentSj&c.)  that  tii» 
laudable  intentions  of  the  Icgi^tur* 
were  very  imporfectly  carried  into 
execution  ;  and  the  map,  formed  from 
from  thesic  diff'ercnt  and  discordant 
survey B,  was  jwch  as  was  to  have  beea 
expected 

Mr.  Bowditch  then  observes, 
that  in  pursuance  of  this  order  of 
the   legislature,  a  survey  of  the 


Digitized  by  LjOOQiC 


499 


bowditch's  chart. 


town  of  Salem  was  undertaken  by 
the  late  Capt.  John  Gibaut,  W^^otn 
Mr.  B.  as^ted  ;  but  the  time  al- 
lowed for  completing  it  wai  86 
short,  that  few  of  the  ledges  and 
shoals  were  satisfactorily  explored  ; 
80  that  the  Stti*vey  prorved  ahnost 
useless  for  nautkal  purposes.  He 
then  says  that  in  1804  and  1805, 
he  undertook,  with  the  assistance 
of  Mr.  Guorge  Burchmore  and 
Mr.  Williani  Ropes  3d,  to  com- 
plete the  survey  of  Capt.  Gibaut  ; 
but  upon  examination,  it  was  found 
so  imperfect,  that  "  it  became  ne- 
cessaiy  to  make  a  new  chart  from 
observations  takcD  with  more  pre* 
cision  ;"  and 

To  do  tliis  (says  he)  ao  excellent 
theodolite,  made  hf  Adams,  furnished 
•with  a  telescope  and  cross  wlrcj,  was 
procured  to  meaeupe  the  angles  and 
^  pfood  chain  to  ineaavire  tlic  distances. 
Witli  Uicse  instinimenti;,  tlie  btaringa 
and  distincc8  of  tlic  sliore  from  Gale's, 
point  in  Manchester,  to  Phillip*  point 
in  Lynn  (tlie  tiro  extremities  of  this 
survey)  wete  carefully  ascertaiiuid  ; 
juid  the  ncces824ry  observations  were 
taken  for  fixing  with  accuracy  tiic  situ* 
ation  of  the  islands.  Soundings  were 
taken  throughout  tlie  whole  extent  of 
the  survey,  particularly  round  tJie  dan- 
]^rous  Icd^s  and  shoals,  several  of 
"wiiich  were  explored,  that  were  hardly 
known  by  our  best  pilots,  as  Arclter't, 
jRoci,  ChappeVi  Le^gf,  Martin**  roch, 
the  Ruing  States  Ledge,  yohii's  Ledge, 
Misery  Ledger  Pilgrim  Ledge^  House 
Ledge f  and  f^ers ;  most  of  which  were 
so  httle  known,  that  names  had  not 
been  given  to  them  ;  and  during  the 
•whole  time  employed  on  the  5ur\'eyy 
vdiich  was  above  eighty  days,  from  tv>9 
to  Jive  persons  were  hired  to  assist  in 
sounding  and  measuring.  From  these 
Bbservationa  the  new  chart  was  plotted 
off*,  and  an  accurate  engraving  of  it 
made,  &c. 

He  further  informs  usi  that  "  the 
leading  marks  for  avoiding  the 
ledges  were  not  taken  from  the 
chart,  but  were  determined  by 
•sailing  and  sounding  round  them  ; 
fco  that  on  this  account  the  direc- 


tions are  less  liable  to  be  efre* 
neous." 

Thfey,  who  are  best  acquainted 
with  practical  surveying,  will  best 
know' how  to  estimate  the  labonf 
of  a  survey  conducted  with  the 
care  which  appear^  to  have  been. 
Used  in  the  present  case,  and,  of 
ct>urse,  will  be  most  ready  ta  afc* 
knowledge  the  valde  of  Mr.  B's 
chart.  Three  monthsyix.  seetz^s^ 
were  employed  by  Mr.  Bowdkch, 
^^ith  his  assistants,  Messrs.  Burch.* 
more  and  Ropes,  in  the  actual  kt» 
hour  of  surveying,  (during  whicli 
time  from  tivo  to  Jive  /teratms  were 
hired  to  assist  in  soimding  and 
measuring)  exclusive  of  the  days, 
nay  months,  which  must  doubtle^ 
have  been  employed  on  shore  in 
adjusting  the  various  admeasure* 
ments,  and  plottmg  pff  the  whole 
chart.  ^  Nothing  but  an  ardent 
love  of  science,  united  with  an  ar* 
dent  love  of  country,  we  should 
think,  could  carry  an  unaided  in- 
dividual  through  so  laborious  and 
expensive  an  undertaking. 

In  a  work  of  such  uncommoir 
merit  as  the  presept  we  have 
thought  it  a  duty  which  we  cw© 
to  the  science  of  our  country,  to 
be  more  than  usually  particular  ia 
our  examination  ;  and  in  forming 
our  opinion  of  the  great  accuracy 
of  this  work,  we  have  not  rested 
solely  on  the  presumption  arising 
from  the  extraorfiinary  degree  of 
labour  bestowed  upon  it,  (which 
from  Mr.  B's  character,  we  have 
no  doubt  is  faithfully  detailed  in 
the  extracts  a^bove  quoted)  but  vr^ 
have  done  all  that  could  be  done 
by  persons  not  minutely  acquaints 
ed  with  the  several  harboufs  hdti 
dbwn  in  it  j  we  have  employed 
considerable  time,  and  with  great 
satisfaction,  in  examining  it  by  thd 
«de  of  Holland's  chart  of  the  coasts 
which  is  the  best  extant.  Upofi 
compai-Jng  the  two,  "vve  hurc  beep 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


BOWDITCn  S   CHART. 


»$ 


Motikfied  at  the  d^fkkncies  of 
HoHaii^'s,  in  the  very  part  which 
MTtA  mOit  hnportawt  to  mariner?— 
the  ledges,  shoals  send  sonndmgs, 
iftany  of  lehich  were  whoUy  ondt- 
ted.  Atnohg  the  omisaions,  wc 
observe  the  very  long  tract  of  UmA 
ground  m  the  Ticfaiity  of  Baker's 
hknd.  The  Bhoal  ground,  called 
the  Middle  Ground^ '  which  the 
**  Directions*'  iirRn'iti  us  is  a  mile  in 
lengthy  and  in  which  we  see  sound- 
ings marked  of  no  more  thail^^ 
J^r,  does  not  appear  in  Holland's 
cfaart.  Nor  db  we  there  find  any 
of  the  numerous  and  dangemus 
hKlges  between  CuTiey  inland  and 
^each*9  pointy  and  between  the 
(h'eat  Misery  and  West  Beach,'~^ 
jBowfRtthts  Ledge,  Misery  Ledge, 
Gale^B  Ledge,  the  IVhaleU  Back^ 
and  others  are  not  Itdd  down  in  it. 
Satan^  iit  Black  Rocky  which  is  laid 
down  by  B.  as  m  Island  is  omitted 
by  HolhWd.  We  Tcnture  to  sar 
all  tliese  2fft  dfjlciencies  inHoDand  s 
chart,  b^ause  wc  do  not  find 
them  there,  and  we  do  find  them 
i»  Mr.  Bowditch's  ;  and  we  pre- 
sume this  gentleman  has  not  laid 
down  any  shoal  that  docs  not  ex- 
ist ;  it  is  more  likely  that  tliere 
may  be  some  inconsiderable  ones 
which  even  his  great  assiduity  has 
not  disco'vered  ;  though,  when  we 
i;oi»ider  how  very  minute  Mr.  B. 
has  been  in  the  woi'k  before  us, 
ire  cannot  believe  there  is  a  single 
omission  of  importance  lo  naviga- 
tors. He  Informs  us  indeed  in  the 
«  Directitens,''  that  he  explored 
«cveral  shoaTs  and  ledges  "that 
irere  hardly  known  to  our  best  pi- 
Tots,"  and  many  "  which  were  so 
IktleknoMfH,  that  names  had  not 
been  given  to  them.*'  These  are 
some  of  the  principal  advantages, 
In  ofir  opinion,  which  this  beauti- 
^1  chart  has  over  the  best  hith- 
erto pcibE^hed  ;  and  they  are  ad- 
^mUei|;eff^irMeh,  we  feel  confident, 


will  eAsnm  to  the  Abie  author  te 
ample  indeasnity  for  the  time  an4 
expense  be  has  bestowed  «ipo»  il^ 
and  will  reflect  credit  upon  the 
science  of  our  country. 

It  ia  proper  for  us  in  works  of 
tins  kind  to  speak  particubffly  of 
the  execviioD  of  the  ^^graver'a 
part ;  and  k  is  with  great  astiB&c^ 
tion  we  can  aaenre  the  pubiicki 
that  it  has  been  fineliy  engraved  by 
Messrs.  Hooker  and  Fairman,  ai: 
Salem,  and,  we  presume,  under 
the  inspectioo  of  Mr.  Bowditch  ; 
for  he  informs  us  in  the  ^  DireCf- 
tions,"  that  tiie  engraving  i»  cor- 
rect :  It  is  primed  on  English  suh 
perfine  imperial  wove  paper,  it 
would  give  us  pleasure  also,  if  we 
could  with  truth  say  that  the  ''  Di- 
rections" were  printed  in  a  style 
suitable  to  the  elegance  of  the 
Chart.  The  type  is  good,  though 
rather  too  small  ;  in  the  pi^v, 
however,  we  perceive  a  littk  of 
the  odour  of  what  has  heretofore 
been  called  StUem  economy,  btit 
what,  in  this  instance,  must  be  de- 
nomined  JVenvburyport  economy, 
for  there,  it  seems,,  the  ^  Direo- 
tions"  were  printed.  We  cannot  • 
entertain  the  suspicion,  (if  we  may 
judge  from  the  liberality  which 
appears  in  the  paper  and  engrav- 
ing of  the  chart)  that  Mr.  Bow- 
ditch  is  chargeable  with  the  panit- 
mony  apparent  in  the  ^  Dired- 
tions."  We  ought  to  observe 
also,  that  excellent  as  the  engrav- 
ing of  the  chart  is,  the  skill  of 
Messrs.  Hooker  and  Fairman 
doubtless  appears  to  less  advantage 
than  it  would  in  a  map,  whkh  adf- 
fords  a  greater  field  for  a  display 
of  their  art.  This  chart  is  con- 
stnicted  on  a  scale  of  about  three 
inches  to  a  mile. 

Snch  is  the  admirable  work, 
which  Mr.  Bowditch  offers  to  his 
countrymen,  and  particukuiy  to 
the  sea-^uing  portion  of  his  fdlow- 


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PHoeiov. 


citizens  ;  and  it  will  doubtless  be 
received  with  the  same  marked 
preference  which  hb  other  nauti- 
cal publications  have  found  in  the 
community. 

For  our  part,  we  hope  the  ap- 
plause which  the  work  deserves, 
and  will  asstiredly  find>  will  not  be 
the  only  consequence  of  its  publi- 
cation. The  imperfection  of  our 
present  maps  and  chslrts  is  weU 
known  to  those  who  have  it  in  their 
fiowerj  and,  if  we  may  judge  finora 
their  well  intended  effoits,  are  so- 
Hdtousy  to  remove  this  discredit 
from  our  country...we  mean  the 
legislature  of  thie  state.  They 
well  know  that  we  have  many  un- 
explored harbours,  especially  in 
the  eastern  parts  of  our  coast*  a 
thorough  knowledge  of  some  one 
of  which  might,  by  saving  only  a 
single  ship,  be  the  means  of  pre- 
serving many  lives,  and  perhaps 
secure  property  enough  to  pay  the 
expense  of  a  general  survey  ;  at 
least,  it  would  lessen  the  hazards 
to  which  our  vessels  are  exposed 
upon  the  coast  during  inclement 
•ond  stokiny  seasons.  We  shoujd 
think  indeed,  if  the  legislature 
should  not  order  such  a  survey, 
that  some  of  our  liberal  under- 
writers, who  are  certainly  deeply 
interested,  would  gladly  contribute 
to  the  expense  of  it.  But  we  do 
hope,  that  the  present  publication, 
by  showing  us  how  much  can  be 
effected  by  the  ability  and  enter- 
prize  of  an  unassisted  individual, 
will  stimulate  those  who  can  com- 
mand the  resources  of  the  state, 
we  mean  of  Old  MaaaachuaetU^ 
(for  wct  sincerely  hope  that  ahe 
wHl  have  the  honour  of  leading  the 
way  among  her  sister  states,  as 
one  of  her  natives  has  done  among 
his  fellow  citizens)  to  order  a  cor- 
rect sun'cy  to  be  made  of  our 
whole  coast,  and  even  of  the  whole 
state,  under  the  diixjction  of  one 


or  two  able  surveyors.  '  Soch  wm 
undertaking  would  indeed  be  wor- 
thy of  the  publick  spirit  of  New- 
Englandmen  ;  such  a  work  would, 
without  any  other  point  of  pre-em- 
inence, justly  entitle  the  govern- 
ment of  Massachusetts  to  a  rai^ 
with  the  most  patriotiek  rulers,  as 
well  as  with  the  most  liberal  pat- 
rons of  science. 

ART.  46. 

T7ie  numbers  of  Phocion^  XDfdck 
vfere  ori^naliy  pkbH^htd  in  thg 
Charleston  Cou^er^  in  1 806,  en 
$ht  subject  qf  Alrutrai  Rights. 
Charlcston,Courier  Office  Jli^.70. 

This  pamphlet  is  written  with 
ability,  and  the  arguments  and  re- 
Sections  are  those  of  a  statesman. 
The  author  condemns  that  pur- 
blind policy,  which  extends  only 
to  objects  that  may  be  seen  and 
felt,  and  maintains  *«  that  our  no- 
tional  measures  ought  not  to  be 
predicated  upon  a  fluctuating  state 
of  things,  or  to  look  merely  to 
present  circumstances,  but  should 
be  bottomed  on  steady  and  pennar 
nent  principles." 

In  considering  the  right  of  neu* 
trals  to  interfere  in  the  coloniil 
commerce  of  belligerents,  be  exr 
amines  the  subject  imder  two  asr 
pects,  1,  as  to  the  direct  intercourse 
between  the  mother  country  and 
her  colony  ;  2dly,  as  to  the  indirect 
intercourse,  by  an  intermediate 
voyage  to  a  port  of  the  noutraL 
The  denial  of  direct  intercourse, 
he  contends,  is  an  antient  principle, 
not  only  enforced  during  the  war 
of  1756,  but  universally  deemed 
a  part  of  the  Law  of  Nations  ; 
and  he  proves  that  Mr.  JefiRcrsoo 
in  his  Notes,  and  Mr.  Madison  in 
his  commentaries  on  the  commer^ 
cial  resolutions  of  1794,  wmrmly 
advocated  that    priociple>  which 


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CHRlftTlAN    MOKITOR. 


495 


they  now  inconsistently  denominate 
an  interpolation,  3dly.  As  to  the 
indirect  trade>  he  observes,  that 
what  cannot  lawfully  be  done  di-^ 
re€tly^  cannot  lawfully  be  done  in* 
directly^  and  that  we  are  engaged 
In  an  unlawful  commerce  when  we 
become  the  carriers  of  colonial 
produce  to  the  belligerent  mother 
country. 

We  transcribe  the  following 
extract  as  containing  a  specimen 
of  the  author's  manner,  and  a  sum- 
mary  of  his  inferences. 

He   observes, 

Th^  the  ip^hole  ground  of  claim,  as- 
sumed by  our  Executive,  is  so  broad, 
so  inconsistent  with  the  rights  of  others, 
and  so  unsuppoHcd  by  law  and  prece- 
dent, as  to  promise  no  other  alternative 
but  u  disastrous  war  or  disgraceful  con« 
cession^— that  the  publick.  assumption  of 
grounds  beyond,  what  t^e  know  to  be 
lust,  and  what  we  ultimately  mean  ot 
insist  on,  is  dishonest  and  impolitick, 
and  ought  to  be  disavowed  and  discoun- 
tenanced by  every  ^ood  citizen — ^that 
even  grantifig  we  might»  on  the  present 
occasion,  extbrt  from  England  an  ad- 
mission of  such  extensive  dahns,  it 
would  be  in  the  end  injurious  to  our- 
•elvcs  ;  because  it  woidd  divert  oiu* 
mercantile  citizens  from  the  pursuit  of 
a  commerce  generally  beneficial  to  the 
nation,  to  one  partially  so  to  a  few  indi- 
viduals, by  inducing  many  commercial 
men  to  leave  the  staple  {xtxluctions  of 
our  own  country  rotting  in  our  stores, 
in  order  to  transport  the  more  valuable 
staples  of  foreign  colonies,  tlius  sacrifi- 
cing our  agricultural  and  general  com- 
mercial interests  to  the  enriclving  of  a 
small  class  of  men — we  mean  the  carry' 
ing  merchants  : — Because  the  establish- 
ment of  the  doctrine  contended  for 
"would,  the  United  States  being  at  war 
•with  Great-Britain,  deprive  the  former 
of  the  most  powerful  weapons  aguinst 
the  latter,  by  enabling  her  to  turn  ovet 
to  neutral  powers  her  whole  colonial 
commerce,  the  chief  object  of  oiu*  ven- 
geance ;  because,  this  trade  is  injurious 
to  the  general  commercial  interest,  by 
perpetually  bringing  us  into  alarming 
collision  with  England,  a  country  wit£ 
^hom  it  is  our  interest  to  maintain  the 
strictest  commercial  harmony ;  because 
the  enforcement  of  this  claim,  at  this 
ciiaisy  would,  by  depriving  Great-Britaia 


of  the  effects  of  her  naval  superiorky^ 
leave  her  at  the  mercy  of  tlie  monstrous 
and  wide-spreading  power  of  France, 
and  by  breaking"  do\\Ti  tlie  only  mound, 
which  now  resists  it,  expose  cw  liber- 
tics  to  be  swept  K way  by  the  derouring 
flood  which  has  desohited  all  Europe  ; 
because,  should  tlie  United  Stales,  tak-v 
xng  advantage  of  the  rtiactance  of  the 
British  cabinet  to  increase  their  ene- 
mies, coerce  them  into  a  present  ad- 
mission of  this  claim,  the  benefits^  if 
any,  would  be  but  temporary,  and 
would  soon  be  followed,  under  .other 
c'ffcumstandes,  by  a  violent  struggle  on 
their  part,  to  rescind  the  grant,  or  a 
mean  relinquishment  of  it  on  ours  ;  be- 
cause, a  reasonable  modification  of  this 
claim,  securing  to  us  a  fair  rnd!rrYCt  trade 
with  the  enemy,  the  free  admission  of 
colonial  products  into  the  United  States, 
and  the  free  export  thereof  from  tha 
United  States  to  other  countries,  and  at 
the  same  time  to  Great-Britsun  her  bel- 
ligerent rights,  under  such  reflations 
as  might  be  reciprocally  stipulated, 
would  have  been  easily  obtained  by  ne- 
goeiation,  and  would  have  prevented  all 
that  ill-blood  and  acrimony,  which  will 
now  certainly  obstructj  perhaps  defeat 
it 

The  reputed  anthor  of  this 
pamphlet  is  William  Smith  of 
South  Carolina,  an  eloquent  and 
honourable  gentleman,  who  adorns 
his  country,  and  who  is  one  of 
those  of  whom  Bolingbroke  says, 
that  **  if  they  retire  from  the 
world,their  splendour  accompanies 
them,  and  enlightens  cTcn  the  ob- 
Bcurity  of  their  retreat." 


ART.  47. 
The  Christian  Monitor  :  a  religioui 
periodical  work.  By  a  society 
for  promoting  christian  knoW' 
ledgcy  pietyy  and  charity.  Ao.  /. 
Second  Edition. 

Several  errours  in  the  first  edi- 
tion are  here  corrected  ;  slight  al- 
terations in  the  arrangement  of  the 
subjects  are  made  ;  its  style,which 
in  some  instances  was  harsh,  is 
softened  ;  and  some  of  its  less  ac- 
ceptable articles  wholly  omitted  : 
so  that  the  tract  is  now  perhaps  a& 


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494 


ITMAn'^  tBAMON^^^IMMrf^tOftt. 


UDexoefptioiudie  <or  the  ptirposca 
of  devotion,  as  any  which  the 
country  affords. 

ABT.   48. 

The  Christian  Monitor,  JVb  II. 
Contcumng  observation*  on  th£ 
Bfe  and  character  of  Jesus  Christ, 
Jh/  a  society  ISc.  Munpoe  Sc 
Francis,    pp.  192. 

T«B  contents  of  thia  number 
are  as  follow.  Sect.  1.  Piety  of 
our  Saviour.  2.  The  same.  3.  The 
benevolence  of  our  Saviour.  4. 
OiH*  Lord's  compassion.  5.  His 
]«ttioe«  6.  His  temperance,  f.  His 
meekness.  8.  His  humility.  9« 
His  fortitude.  10.  His  veracity. 
11.  His  natural  affection.  12.  His 
friendship,  conduct  to  those  in  au- 
thority, and  prudence.  «  The 
matter  of  this  number  of  the  Mon* 
bor  is  principally  taken,**  as  the 
introduction  informs  us,  «  from 
the  second  part  of  a  work,  entitled 
Observations  on  our  Lord^s  conduct 
us  #  divine  instructor^  and  on  the 
(excellence  cf  his  moral  character^  by 
^iUiam  ^eioconibcj  D.  D,  Bishofi 
^  IVaterford.^*  We  apprpve 
)>oth  the  design  and  nuuiner  of  this 
treatise  ;  and  think  that  its  com* 
pijer  could  hardly  have  selected  n 
j|>ore  interesting;  and  instructive 
topick  for  the  edification  of  its  rea- 
ders. 

ART.   49. 

fd  sermon  fireached  before  the  con^ 
vention  qf  the  clergy  qf  Massa^ 
ckusetts  in  Boston^  May  29, 
1 806,  By  Joseiih  Lyman^  D.  D. 
Pastor  of  the  church  in  Hatfield, 
Boston,    Carlisle.     8vo.  ftfi,  24. 

From  the  1  Cor.  xi.  I.  and  Acta 
X.  38.  the  author  professes  to 
exhibit  the  life  of  Christ  to  the 
imitation  of  his  disciples.  But 
Although,  by  his  particularity  ia 


conjoiniQg  t«t>  diMant  passufetf 
we  should  naturally  auftpose  that 
he  meant  to  keep  closely  to  fait 
text,  yet  he  omits  the  ceoslderatioe 
of  some  important  articks  of  our 
Saviour's  preaching  and  practices 
and  Insists,  soiaewhat  cobfusedljr 
upcHi  others  of  which  the  hi&tory 
of  Jesus  gives  no  e^aoipie.  The 
piety  of  our  Lord,  together  with 
what  he  taught  concenung  the  be* 
ing,  perfections,  and  providence  of 
God«  we  believe,  are  not  eveo 
mentioned..  Contrary  to  the  "  hu- 
mility and  gentleness"  of  which  Dr. 
L.  s^aks,  and  in  which  he  is  no 
doubt  a  worthy  proficient,  he  has 
contrived,  (Hi  a  subject  every  way 
suited  to  unite  the  views  and  sen- 
timents of  christians,  rather 
coarsely  t,o  obtrude  tlie  most  ob- 
noxious opinions  of  a  particular 
sect  upon  an  unoffending  auditory  ; 
but  we  apprehend  that  the  enemies 
of  Calvinism  will  manifest  no  dis- 
pleasure, that  a  man,  who  seems 
to  be  one  of  its  pil]ai*s,  &hould  he 
able  to  do  no  more  for  the  suf^ort 
of  its  frail  and  crumbling  ^ubitck. 


ART.    50. 

A  bri^  sketch  of  Ungmologt/j  ex- 
tracted from  the  science  qf  toe- 
naila.  Translated  from  the  Ger- 
man  <f  Gas/ier  Gall  I^'z^^tur, 
rsidi  Xutvls9.  London,  printed  ? 
Boston,  reprinted,  1806. 

Cranic^ogy  is  certainly  among 
those  sciences,  wluch  have  enlarg- 
ed the  boimdaries  of  hum«in  know- 
ledge, and  added  to  the  practical 
felicity  of  life.  The  author  of  the 
treatise  before  us  has  not  merely 
followed  the  safe  steps  of  liis  il- 
lustrious predecessor,  and  the  im- 
mortal physiognomist  of  Switzer- 
land, but  has  excellently  and  truly 
removed  the  indexes  of  the  soul 
from  the  skull  and  the  face  to  ihc 


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Tkfi   MOD£»N   fHXXOSOFHER,   ijfc. 


497 


t6es.  I^vater's  science  is  liable  to 
xAany  objections,  and  Call's  is  not 
free  from  marks  of  doubt  and  sus- 
picion ;  but  the  testimony  of  poets 
and  the  incontrovertibleness  of  ar- 
guments, have  givert  the  ingenious 
system  of  unguiology  a  decided 
superiority  over  eVery  rival.  It 
Would  seem  froih  the  book,  that 
the  author  is  a  German,  and  we 
indeed  regret,  that  America  Can- 
not boast  of  such  a  grave,  pleasant, 
and  scientifick  logician  and  schol- 
ar. He  has  given  various  reasons 
to  show  the  inlportahce  of  ungui- 
ology  ;  he  has  exhibited  its  prac- 
tical effects,  and  its  scientifick  pur- 
poses, and  very  triumphantly  con- 
cludes that  physiognomy  and  cra- 
niology  are  now  entirely  superse- 
ded. We  are  of  the  same  opin- 
ion, and  are  obliged  to  to  acknowl- 
edge, tiiat  those  sublime  arts  must 
now  rest  in  the  grave  with  alchy- 
my  and  palmistry.  Lavater  of 
Zurich,  and  Gall  of  Vienna  are 
little  better  than  mother  Carey 
of  Salem,  and  Moll  Pitcher  of 
Lynn.  Unguiology  has  arisen  ma- 
jestically and  authoritatively  from 
the  mouldering  corpses  of  her  si^ 
ter  sciences  ;  we  hail  La'veytur  as 
the  noble  founder  of  the  most  im- 
portant of  arts  ;  we  consider  the 
publication  of  his  book  as  a  mem- 
t>rable  era  in  literature ;  and  we 
earnestly  recommend  its  perusal 
to  all  descriptions  and  denomina- 
tions of  people,  from  the  syllable- 
spelling  boy,  who  takes  firm  hold 
of  his  intellectual  pettitoes  and 
turns  heels  over  head,  to  the  holy 
.apostolick  father  of  the  Roman 
see,  who  graciously  condescends  to 
offer  to  the  gentle  kisses  of  his 
tumble  suppliants  the  dignified 
index  of  a  mighty  soul,  his  very 
clean  and  sublime  great  toenail. 


Vol.  III.  No.  9. 


3P 


ART.  51. 

The  Modern  PJiilosofiher  ;  or  Tet^ 
rible  Tract  oration  I  In  four  can- 
tos. Moat  resfiecffuliy  addressed 
to  the  royal  college  of  fihysiciarU^ 
London,  By  Christopher  Caustic^ 
M.D.  A.s.s,  IsTc,  tsfc.  Second  A- 
merican  edition,,  revised^orrected^ 
and  much  enlarged  by  the  author. 
Philadelphia,  from  the  Lorenzo 
press  of  E.  Bronson.  Qvo./j/i,27 1 . 

Of  the  former  editions  tf  this 
work,  both  in  England  atjd  Amer- 
ica, milch  has  been  said,  and  the 
author  may  consider  himself  pecu- 
liarly fortunate  in  gaining  so  much 
praise  from  a  work,  ostensibtlf 
written  in  support  of  quackery. 
On  this  unthrifty  subject,  he  has 
ingrafted  some  general  and  well 
directed  satire,  without  which  he 
could  hardly  have  found  so  many 
readers. 

This  edition  has  gained  another 
title,  and  a  considerable  quantity 
qf  matter.  It  differs  from  the  for- 
mer editi<nis,  principally  by  addi- 
tional notes  to  the  first  canto,  in 
which  the  new  philosophy,  and  the 
old  atheistical  notions  of  Dcmoc- 
ritus,  revived  and  embellished  by 
the  gorgeous  verse  of  Darwin,  are 
justly,  and  with  some  ability  ridi- 
<;uled.  But  we  hal'e  long  been 
weary  of  satires  of  this  description, 
and  they  have  become  almost  as^ 
stale  as  the  doctrines  they  de- 
nounce. The  waking  dreams  of 
St.  Pierre  and  Darwin  may  give 
nutriment  to  weak  intellects,  or 
moon-struck  imaginations,  but  we 
are  not  to  believe  them^  philoso- 
phers, because  they  would  have 
tides  made  of  polar  ices,  nien  from 
ourang  outangs,  and  the  universe 
by  volcanick  and  cometary  explo- 
sions. 

Terrible  Tractofation  is  com- 
posed of  very  perishable  ogtaterials. 
A  defence  of  Perki|usm  Qiust  have 


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49^ 


VKDERSTAKDIWO  EEAWftK,.— FRBWtH  OaAJMAR^ 


something  more  than  the  merftfc 
"of  its  cause  to  ensure  imxnortalitf . 
The  author's  extensive  acquaint- 
ance with  yankee  phrases,  and 
dexterity  in  the  use  of  New-Eng- 
land vulgarisms  have  enabled  him 
to  frame  a  ludicrous  structure  of 
Hudibrastick  rhyme,  with  materi- 
als as  heterogenous  as  the  image 
of  Nebuchadnezzar.  But  common 
thoughts,  however  amusing  at  first, 
by  their  ludicrous  dress,  will  soon 
be  found  to  want  a  better  support 
than  vulgarity  of  language. 
••  Pmper  vUtfi  tult  Oniu.  et  praper  oC* 

That  this  work  has  a  considerable 
degfee  of  humour,  and  some  ver- 
slficlUioii,  with  a  felicity  approach- 
ing to  that  of  Hudibrasy  we  do  not 
•deny  ;  but  for  that  novelty  of  atao- 
CT^tio^j  inexhaustible  flow  of  wit, 
VDd  prodigal  di^ay  of  knowledge 
on  every  subject^  that  gives  peiv 
petual  interest  to  the  pages  of 
Butler,  we  look  through  this  book 
in  vain. 

In  his  account  of  himself,  the 
author  has  joined  the  vulgar  in  his 
jdbuse  of  the  verb  to  graduat£j 
^rhich  is  active,  meaning  "  to  con- 
fer a  degree,"  not  to  receive  <ine. 

ART.    52. 

Tlhe  Under$tandmg  Reader;     w 
knowledge  before  oratory y  being  a 
new  selection  of  lesiona  mdted  to 
the  understanding  and  the  cafta- 
titles  of  youth  and  designed /br 
their  imprtruemetit^    I.  In  read' 
mg ;      IT,   In    the  definition  of 
words}    III.  In  sfieUingj ftarti- 
€ularly  comfiound  and  derivative 
'    mnrds.     In  ^  method  whoUy  dif- 
'  ferent  from  tmyihmg  of  the  kind 
'    ever  before  published.    By  Dan- 
iel Adamsy  M,  B,  author  of  the 
Scholar^s  Arithmetickj   thorough 
Scholar  J  ^5V.    "  Our  boys  often 
-  read  a«  parrots  sptak^  knowing 


Uttle  or  nothing  of  the  meanmg.^ 
FrankHn,    Leeroinster,  Adami 
•     IcWHder.     Bvo.  pp. 'it4,. 

The  only  article  of  importance 
ia  which  this  schoolbook  differs 
from  the  multitude  of  similar  se- 
lections is,  the  margin.  Here  a 
column  of  words,  the  least  easily 
understood  and  spelt  of  any  ia 
the  page,  is  selected  and  printed 
in  italicks,  the  more  forcibly  to 
aeize  the  attention  of  the  pupil 
to  their  meaning  and  orthography. 
The  effect  may  be  good.  The 
4>ieces  are  mostly  well  chosen,  e«f 
pecially  for  schools  in  the  country. 
.This  notice  was  due  to  the  publick 
many  months  since  ;  but  the  book 
veas  mislaid.  Were  we  however 
to  give  it  our  warmest  recommen- 
dations it  otight  not  to  sell ;  £or  its 
ink,  paper,  and  type  are  all  so  mi- 
ierable,  that  the  Understanding 
Header  is  the  naost  illegible  of 
books. 


ART.  55. 
jf  new  Grammar  of  the  French 
Tongue^  originally  compiled  for 
the  use  of  the  American  ndUtafy 
academy.  By  a  French  gentit- 
man.  "  Lidocti  discant^  et  amenf 
memmsae  perid/'  New-York, 
printed  by  G.  &  R.  Waitc  for  I 
Riley  &  Co-  1804. 

"  Nothing  new  can  be  sard  in  a 
grammar  of  the  French  language. 
Editions  of  these  elementary  books 
have  become  so  numerous  that 
novelty  was  not  expected.  There 
$8  nothing  in  this  work  for  the  A- 
merican  Military  Academy,  which 
can  give  it  a  claim  to  patronage, 
snperiour  to  the  grammars  nowm 
common  use.  The  author  has 
professedly  attempted  to  hitrodiice 
greater  perspicuity  and  simplJ^/V 
in  the  explanation  and  iUustraUon 
of  the  principles  already  establish- 


Digitized  by  VjOOQ IC 


il^MTXLT  CATALOaUX.. 


#•• 


ed.  The  quantity  ^  exemplifica^ 
tloiH  usually  found  in  most  works 
of  this  nature,  he  has  rejected>  as 
calculated  only  to  perplex  the  stu- 
dent. He  tas  avoided  those  <*  mir 
nute  distinctions,''  which  envelope 
essenliid  rulet  in  ^  trivial  except 
tions."  In  the  general  plan  of 
Grammar^  he  has  not  differed  from 
other  compUei^,  and  his  new  mod- 
ification does  not  entitle  him  hy 
any  means  to  a  rank  above  them 
^  point  of  utility  or  convenience. 

We  have  examined  this  work 
with  some  considerable  attention, 
as  one,  dedicated  to  the  use  of  our 
country,  would  naturally  lead  us 
to  bestow.     But  we  cannot  give  it 


the  preference  over  many  other 
grammars^  and  particularly  above 
those  by  Chambaud  and  Wanas* 
trocht,  which  have  received  the 
sanction  of  high  literary  authority 
in  England,  and  have  been  used 
hy  the  first  teachers  m  this  coun- 
try, as  the  best  introductions  to  a 
knowledge  of  the  French  language. 
The  typographical  negligence 
of  this  smaU  vx>iume  (which  haa 
two  ciosely  printed  pages  of  ^<  Er- 
rata") is  almost  unpardonable.  It 
contains  but  194  pages,  and  we  do 
never^  recollect  to  hjxsp  seen  more 
errours  in  a  work  of  so  small  a 
size. 


MONTHLY   CATALOGUE 
Of  New  Publications  in  the  United  States  foe  Sbptembee* 


aoot  bona,  fimt  quKdiOi  mediocria,  iint  omIbi  ptank-^UOT. 


NEW  WORKS. 

Memoirs  of  Dr.  Joseph  Priestley,  to 
tlie  year  1795,  written  by  himself;  with 
a  continuation  to  the  time  of  his  decease, 
by  his  son,  Joseph  Priestley  ;  and  ob- 
servations on  his  writings,  by  Thomas 
Cooper,  present  judge  of  the  4th  di*- 
trict  of  Pennsylvania,  and  the  Rev.  Wm. 
Christie.  2  vols.  8vo.  pp.  824.  North- 
umberland, (Penn.)  John  Binns. 

Plain  Discourses  on  the  Chemical 
Laws  of  Matter.  Containing  »  gene- 
ral view  of  the  principles  and  improve- 
ments of  the  science  of  Chemistry ; 
with  a  particular  detail  of  those  parts 
which  are  common  and  connected  with 
domestick  affairs.  Addressed  to  the 
citizens  of  America,  By  Thomas 
^ welly  M.  D.  iat^  of  Virginia.  1  vol. 
8vo.  pp.  500,  with  plates.  Price  §3  in 
extra  boards/  New- York,  Brisban  & 
Brannan,  186  Pearl-street. 

No.  III.  of  The  Christian  Monitor,  a 
religious  periodical  work  ;  coatainir^ 
eight  discourses  on  the  Means  of  Re- 
ligion. 12mo.  fine  wove  j).iper,  pp.  200. 
Price  in  blue  boards  30  cems.  Boston, 
M^inroe  &  Francis. 

An  Exposition  of  the  Criminal  Laws 
of  the  Territory  of  Orleans  ;  the  prac- 
tice of  tlie  courts  of  crirainid  jurisdic- 


tion, the  duties  of  their  officers,  \rith  % 
collection  of  forms  for  the  use  of  magis- 
trates and  others.  Published  in.  pur- 
suance of  an  act  of  the  le^latore  of 
th«  territory.  In  French  and  Eirglisli. 
By  Lewis  Kerr,  Esq.  New  Orleans, 
Bradford  &  Anderson. 

The  Schoolmaster's  A^istant :  beinr 
a  compendium  of  Aritbmctick,  txith 
Practical  and  Theoretical— in  five  part?. 
The  whole  being  delivered  in  thfe 
most  familiar  \vay  of  (jucstion  and  ans- 
wer, recommended  by  several  emi- 
nent mathematicians,  accompt?nts  and 
schoolmasters,  as  necessary  to  be  used 
in  schools  by  all  teachers  who  would 
have  their  scholars  thoroughly  tmder- 
stand,  and  make  Qiick  progress  in 
Arithmetick.  By  Thomas  Dilworth, 
Author  of  the  New  Guide  to  the  English 
Tongue,  Book-Keeper's  Assistant,  &c. 
With  additions  and  alterations,  adapted 
tn  the  use  of  the  citizens  of  the  Unit- 
ed States.    New-York.  George  Jansen. 

The  Columbiao  Orflthographer  ;  or, 
First  Book  for  Children.  In  which  the 
words  are  methodically  arran^d,  ra- 
tionally divided  into  syllables,  and  accm- 
rately  accented  according  to  the  best 
authorities.  For  the  use  fd  schools. 
By  James.  Pike.  T2mo.  pp.  169..  Price 
20  cents.    Portlsnd,  I^miel  Johnfoj! 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


lot 


MONTHLT  CATALOOUK. 


The  AnericsB  l^efAf'Bfxkmiiar^  iuid 
trader'»iiifBUibl&^de,in  doDan  tnd 
cents  i  wJHh  |t  yartety  of  nscM  t»bte$ 
Sn^  l^ma  pp..ir5,  50  cents,  bound. 
Baltimore,  Warner  St  H«nna. 

The  Advantages  of  Go<f  s  Presence 
with  bisPeoplein  an  Expedition  agninst 
their  Enemiefl  t  A  sermon  preached  at 
Newbury,  Ms^  23,  1755,  at  the  desire 
and  in  the  audience  of  CoL  Moses  Tit- 
comb,  and  many  others  enlisted  under 
him,  and  goinr  with  him  in  an  expedi- 
tion aninst  me  French.  By  John 
L.owel!,  A.  M.  pastor  of  a  church  in 
Newbury.   Newburyport,  E.  W.  Allen. 

The  Messiah's  Reigns  a  sermon 
preached  on  the  4th  of  July,  before  the 
Washinjg^n  Society,  and  publiAed  at 
their  request.  By  James  Muir,  d.  d. 
pastor  of  the  Presbyterian  chwrch  at 
Alexandria.    Alexandria,  S.  Snowden. 

A  sermon  preached  in  Sharon,  Ver- 
mont, March  12.  1806,  at  the  ordina- 
tion  of  the  Rev.  Samuel  Bascom.  By 
the  Rev.  Tilton  Eastman,  pastor  of  the 
Congregational  church  in  Randolph, 
Vt     Hanover,  N.  H.  Moses  Davis. 

The  Commonwealth's  .  Mm,  in  a 
series  of  letters,  addressed  to  the  cit- 
izens of  New  York.  By  James  Smith* 
M.D.    New- York,  A.  Forman. 

An  Oration,  pronounced  at  Lancas- 
tor,  jttly  4,  18o4  in  commemoration  of 
the  anniversary  of  American  Indepen- 
dence. By  Samuel  Brazer,  junior. 
Pr.  17  cts.    Worcester,  Saml  Cotting. 

An  Oration,  delivered  at  the  meet« 
ingtiouse  in  Bennington,  Vermont,  on 
the  4th  of  Jidy,1806  ;  by  O.  C.  Merrill 
8vo.  pp.^6.  25  c^.  Bennington, Smead. 

An  Oration,  delivered  by  Peter  H. 
Wefdover,  Esq.  on  the  4th  of  July, 
JSO^,  in  the  New  Dutch  Church,  New 
York.  8vo.   Office  of  the  Amer,Citizen. 

'Hory  Roasted,  a  9erio.comical  and 
political  Druxfu,  (in  5  acts,)  the  two 
first  acts  wanting,  yet  still  complete,  as 
it  was  lately  performed  on  the  theatre 
of  Philadelphia,  (without  any  success) 
|is  the  commencement  of  the  3d  act  de- 
clares, owing  to  the  infajnous  acting  of 
ft  bad  £cllow,  who  perfcnnned  the  char- 
jicter  of  'Rory.  Collected  by  the  pub- 
lick's  humble  servant.  Pill  Garlick,£sq. 
Together  with  Pill  Garlick,  esq.'s  ad- 
dress, notes,  8tc.  37  cents.  Philadel- 
phia, Office  of  the  Freeman's  Journal. 

NE;W  EDITIONS. 

Tol.  I.  of  The  Family  Expositor,  or  a 
paraphrase  and  vcrsibn  olr  the  New- 


Testament :  with  eritidd  n«t^i>  nd  « 
ptacticdi  iiBprovemeat  of  ewdtt  teddaa 
pontaining  the. history  of  our  Lord  Je-» 
sua  Christ,  as  recoiled  by  the  four 
evangelists  ;  disposed  in  4he  order  of 
an  harmony.  By  Philip  Doddridge,  D. 
D.  from  the  8th  Lon<km  edition.  To 
whith  is  preixed,  alife  of  the  suthor, 
by  Andreiw  Kippia.  8vo.  Boston, 
Etheridge  &  Bliss. 

Sacred  Cbssicks,  containing  the 
following  works  :  1.  Hervey's  Medita- 
tions. 2.  Evidences  of  the  christiaai  re- 
ligion, by  the  right  Hon.  Joseph  Addi- 
son. To  which  are  added,  Discour- 
ses  against  atheism  and  infidelity,  with 
a  preface  ;  containing  the  sentiments 
of  Mr.  Boyle,  Mr.  Locke,  sMid  Sir  Isaac 
Newton,  concerning  Uie  gospel  revela- 
tion. 3.  The  death  of  Abel,  in  5  books, 
translated  from  the  German  of  Mr.  Qes- 
ner,  by  Mrs.  Colver.  To  which  is^  pre- 
fixed. The  life  of  the  author.  4.  De- 
vout  Exercises  of  the  Heart,  in  medita- 
tion and  soliloquy,  prayer  and  praise- 
by  the  late  pious  and  ingenious  Mrs. 
£Uizabeth  Rowe,  revised  and  published 
at  her  request,  by  J.  Watts,  D.  D.— 
Friendship  in  Death,  in  letters  horn  the 
dead  to  the  living ;  to  which  are  added. 
Letters,  moral  and  entertaining,in  prose 
and  verse,  by  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Rowe- — 
Reflections  on  Death,  by  Wm.  Dodd, 
LL.D.  with  the  life  of  the  author.  The 
Centaur,  not  fabulous,  in  six  letters  to 
a  friend,  on  the  life  in  vogue  ;  by  Dr. 
Young  :  with  the  life  of  the  author. 
ThePdgrim*s  Progress.  Blackmore  on 
Creation. — The  above  works  are  in  im- 
itation of  Cooke's  edition  of  the  Sacred 
Classicks,embellished  with  elegant  en- 
gravings^Price  gl  per  \-olume,  neatjf 
bound.     New- York,  J.  &  T.  Ronalds. 

The  Wife  ;  interspersed  with  a  va- 
riety of  anecdote  and  observations,  and 
,  containing  advice  loid  Sections  for  aU 
conditions  of  the  marriage  state.  1st 
American  edition.  12mo.  pp.  220.  75 
•ents  in  boards.    Boston,  Newell. 

The  5th,  6th,  7th,  8th,  and  9th,  No§. 
of  Madoc,  a  poem,  by  Robert  Southey. 
Bvo.    Boston,  Munroe  ^  Francis. 

Home,  a  poem.  pp.  144^  foolscap 
8vo.  Price  75  cents  m  extra  boards  to 
subscribers.  Boston,  Sam'I  H.  Parker. 
Davideis  :  the  life  of  Davitl,  king  of 
IsraeL  A  sacred  poem,  in  5  books.  B^ 
Thomas  EUvood.  12mo.  pp.  160.  Phi- 
ladelphia, Joseph  Crukshank. 

Account  of  the  Life  and  Religious 
Labours  of  Samuel  Nealc.  {^hilade}- 
phia,  James  P.  Parke. 


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MOKTRLT  SATAL0OU&. 


50f 


A  MiKtiry  Catechism ;  with  ame^^ 
od  to  form  company,  and  an  ezplana-* 
tion  of  the  exercise  ;  with-  directions 
for  the  officers  and  'soldiers  ;  to  which 
is  added,sottie  explanation  and  improve^ 
ment  of  the  formation  and  exercise  of  a 
regiment.  By  Joseph  Lord,  bri^de 
major  and  inspector,  C<dumbia  County, 
•New-'Yark.  A  new  edition,  with  the 
addition  of  one  third  more  useiul  mat- 
ter.    Hudson. 

IN  THE  PRESS. 

The  3d  American  edition  of  The  Se- 
cret History  of  the  Court  and  Cabinet 
of  St,  Cloud.  Tills  highly  interesting 
and  entertaining  work  has  run  tJirough 
two  editions  of  1500  copies  each,  in  the 
short  period  of  ten  weeks.  Philadel- 
phia, J.  Watts,  for  Brisban  &  Brannan 
and  Riley  &  Co.  New-York. 

Locke  on  the  Human  Understanding. 
12ino.  3  vols.    Boston,  John  West. 

The  Baptism  of  Believers  only,  and 
the  particular  Communion  of  tlie  Bap- 
tistChurches,  explained  and  vindicated. 
In  three  parts.  The  first^ublished 
ori  ^nally  in  1789 ;  the  second,  in  1794 ; 
the  third,  an  appendix,  containing  ad- 
ditional observations  and  argiunettts, 
with  strictures  on  several  late  publica- 
tious.  By  Thomas  Baldwin.  Boston, 
Manning  5c  Loring. 

Some  of  the  false  argfqments,  mis- 
takes, and  errours  of  Uie  Rev.  Samuel 
Austin,  examined  for  the  benefit  of  the 
pnblick.  By  Dfiniel  Merrill.  Boston, 
Manning  &  Loring. 

The  Doctrine  of  the  Law  and  Grace 
unfolded.  Being  a  discourse,  sliewing 
the  diflcrent  natturs  of  tlie  law  and 
gospel ;  and  the  very  dissimilar  states 
of  those  who  are  under  the  law,  and 
those  who  are  under  grace,  or  inter* 
ested  in  Jesus  Christ.  By  John  Ban- 
yan.    Boston,  Manning  8c  Loring. 

Chamock's  Life  of  Lord  Nelson.  8vo. 
Boston,  Etheridge  &  Bliss. 

Johnson's  Dictionary  of  the  English 
Language  in  miniatnrc.  Boston. 
Wilham  Andrews. 

The  Death  of  legal  Hope  the  Life  of 
evangelical  Obedience.  By  Abrahart 
Booth.     Boston,  Manning  &  Loring. 

Watts*  Psfilms  and  H}Tnn8,  with  the 
flats  and  sharp's  affixed,  for  the  conve- 
nience of  choristers.  Boston,  Manning 
&  Loring. 

The  second  edition  of  the  Psalmo- 
di^'s  Assistant :  containing  an  original 
'composition  of  psahn  and  hynn  tunes  ; 


together  with  a  ntimbcr  of  favourite 
pieces  fh)m  different  authors.  To 
^^hich  is  prefixed,  an  introductibn  to 
the  grounds  of  musick.  By  Abijah 
Forbush.  Boston,  Manning  &  Loring. 
A  Collection  of  Hymns  on  Baptism, 
suitable  to  be  sung  at  the  administra- 
tion of  that  ordinance  in  the  apostolick 
mode  :  with  doctrinal  and  experimen- 
tal hynms,  suited  to  occasional  meetings 
for  social  worship  ;  designed  to  estab- 
lish in  the  lieart  those  gospel  trutJis, 
which  are  consonant  to  me  experience 
of  a  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  all  true 
believers.    Boston,  Manning  &  Loring. 

PROPOSED  BY  subscription: 

The  Works  of  William  Paley,  D.  D. 
archdeacon  of  Carlisle.  With  a  por- 
trait and  life  of  the  author.  4  vols.  8vo. 
pp.  500  each,  on  superfine  wove  paper. 
Price  g2  per  voliune  in  boards,  or 
2t25b6nnd.     Boston,  William  Andrews. 

Byrom's  System  of  Stenogi-aphy ; 
or  universal  standard  of  short-hand 
writing,  with  considerable  alterations 
and  improvemetits.  Containing  plain 
and  comprehensive  rules,  systcmaticiJ- 
ly  arranged  ;  with  explanatory  nbtes, 
fcc.  By  an  English  Gentleman.  1 
small  c^arto  volume,  price  to  subscri*  . 
bers  551,25  in  boards.  Windsor,  Ver- 
mont, H.  H.  Cunninghalh. 

Ferguson's  Lectu^s  on  select  sub- 
jects in  Mecharticks,  Hydrostaticks, 
Hydraulicks,  Pnetimalicks,  Opticks, 
Geography,  Astronomy,  and  Dialings 
A  new  edition,  corrected  and  enlarg^. 
Witli  notes  and  an  appendix,  adq)ted 
to  the  present  state  of  the  arts  and  sci- 
ences. By  David  Brewster,  A.M.  Re- 
vised, and  corrected,  by  Robert  Patter- 
son, Professor  of  Mrthematicks,  and 
Teacher  of  Natural  Philosophy,  in  the 
University  of  Pennsylvania.  In  3  vols, 
two  in  octavo  of  letter  press,  and  one 
quarto  Volume  containing  48  engravings. 
Price  to  subscribers  $5^.  Philadel^ia, 
Mathcw  Cai-ey,  and  Etheridjfc  &  Bliss, 
6oston. 

'  Letters  to  a  Young  Lady,  in  which 
the  duties  aud  character  of  women  are 
considered,  chiefly  with  a  reference  to 
prevailing  opinions.  By  Mrs.  West, 
author  of  Letters  to  a  Yoimg  Man. 
1  volnme  octavo,  ^p.  500.  Price  S2,50 
boards  ;  %7S  bound.  Troy,  Obadiah 
•Penniman  &  Co.  and  Isaac  Riley  &  Co. 
New- York; 

A  second  edition  of  The  Harmonia 
Americana,  with  corrections  and  addi- 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


••oa 


utttUA*  wvatu. 


e.  pp>  30a    Pr. 


^  subfciifaeni  |M»5^ 

A  Collection  of  Sacred  Muiick,  ex« 
pretaly  ejaculated  ibr  the  use  of  tho 
FroteaUoi  £pi8copal  Church  :  contict* 
Uif;  o£  Chants,  for  the  different  serviees. 
Anthems  and  Hymns  for  particular  oc« 
casions,  and  plain  psalmody^  from  the 
most  celebrated  authors   ancient  and 


motoiit  amn^ad^  foil  hanMogr,ibr 
the  iise  of  Choirs  ;  vnHk  the  biBcs  fi- 
gured and  thenroper  acoomMoimciiti 
annexed  in  smjril  notea,  ivtte  OrgM 
or  Piano-Forte.  By  John  CcJe.  Tbi 
work  will  be  handsomely  engraved,  i&d 
contain  about  60  folio  pgts,  aa  ckgiot 
vignette  title-page^and  a  Hit  of  sutocii' 
hm.   Pr.  ^.   Philadelphia,  J.  Wtttt 


IJ^rTELlIGEAVE. 


Our  most  ftrvent  wishes  for  a  liberal 
patronage  of  tlie  publication,  of  which 
the  following  is  a  projspectus,  induces 
OS  to  give  it  an  early  msertion  in  the 
Anthology. 

•  "  Proposes  by  John  Watti:,  of  Phila*. 
dclphia,  for  publishing  by  subscription, 
ih  medhim  octavo,  Select  Speeches,  fo- 
rensick  and  parliamentary,  with  illus- 
tratire  remaAs,  by  N.  Chapman,  M.D. 

Hetatem  grtvem  ac  merltif  si  forte  vlrutn  tjuem 
Contpocerc,  tUeot  i  ad  redbq-je  aur&nis  adstant^ 
bte  regit  didk  anlmoi  et  pe£tora  malcet— Yke. 

The  design  of  tlie  work,  as  the  title 
imports,  is  to  draw  from  the  exchequer 
of  modern  eloquence  the  most  distin- 
guished speeches,  and  to  puUith  them 
collectively.  These  splendid  pfoductiens* 
to  many  of  which  "  Demosthenes  woald 
have  hsteaed  with  delight^  and  Cicero 
3irith  eiw^,*'  are  permitted,  by  a  strtngv 
insensibility  tt>  their  value,to  be  scatter^ 
ed,  with  the  refuse  of  literature,  in  the 
perishable  shape  of  a  pamphlet^  or  to  be 
preserved  imperfectly  in  the  rapid  sy- 
nopses of  the  Chronicles  of  the  day.  It 
is  to  be  regretted  that,  in  consequence 
of  this  neg^ecty  some  <^  the  finest  di$- 
plays  of  mod^  elocution  ai^s  already 
irretrievably  lost,  and  that  the  rest  must 
Inevitably  be  swept  ftwuy  by  the  current 
of  time,  if  an  effort  be  not  fostered  to 
give  them  amor«  permanent  £:>nti. 

The  diligent  researches  of  the  Editor* 
Plough  sometimes  disappointed,  have 
been,  on  the  whole,  rewarded  withra 
success  very  disproportioned  to  the 
mg^erate  expectations  with  ^idiich  he 
^ent  to  the  task. 

He  has  found,  concealed  in  the  eahi- 
nets  ef  the  euiiotts^  and  in  the  boards  of 
*<  literaiy  misers,"  a  suflkient  monber 
of  the  «  brightest  gems,"  to  authorise 
him  to  .exdiaa^  £e  toils  of  gkanieg 
for  the  perplexity  of  selection. 

He  propoee»to  make  indt8|niti^>le  evi- 
dence of  tjie  genuineness  ofeveiy  speech 
the  invariable  criterion  of  his  choiee,and 
will  admit  no  one  into  the  work  whioh 
has  not  distinct  claims  fh>m  importance 
of  ssatter  uA  briHiancy  of  dictioB. 


Without  hazardbg  a  decision  of  hii 
own,on  the  intricate  question  of  the  re- 
apective  excellence  of  ancient  and  mod. 
em  eloquence,  he  confidently  tnisti  tbst 
Ai*  compUatiott  will  not  be  thought  to 
weaken  the  opinion  that,  yrcrc  tcoDef- 
tion  of  tlie  best  specimens  of  the  lattert* 
be  formed,  it  might  fearlessly  challenge 
at  comparison  with  the  celebrated  fibi« 
bitions  of  Grecian  and  Roman  oratofy. 

Of  the  pretensions  of  the  voA  to 
pMblick  favour  the  Editor  concdrei  lit- 
tle need  be  said. 

I.  It  is  an  attempt,  and  the  anlycoe) 
Lo  perpetuate  Modem  )Eloquence 

What  direct  mempris],  stys  a  ^ 
^ter,  would  remote  ppfteri^hstt'^ 
ceived,  even  of  tlie  existence  of  the  til- 
cnt,  were  not  a  few  of  >I^Burfce*i  Op- 
tions incorporated  <rith  h{s  wot)tt  ?  H 
gorgeous  as  ie  certainly  tW  rh^toritlrf 
Edmund  Burke,  will  hisspei^chesiko^ 
convey,  an  adequate  repres^pl^op  « 
the  extent,  variety,  and  richness  <ffl« 
eloquence  of  the  age  in  yrhlch  he  W^  ■ 

U.  It  will  present  at  one  view  ^ 
l»a^er  and  Stateunan,  those  lewM 
andiwd  discmssioiMi of  politidui»d 
juriqinidencey  which  are  f"'*"^ 
subsidiary  to  his  investigitioiis,  vi 
which,  as  now  Aspersed,  are  ilf^ 
difficult  of  access,  and  frequent^  Bot  ^ 
be  procured  at  any  price. 

III.  It  will  aflbrd  a  correct  bh^ 
for  the  study  of  Oratory. 

The  cdn,  teetpcrate,  argumea^ 
manner  of  the  modems  diflfers  too  ww- 
ly  from  ih%  bold,  vchemttit,  *J^^ 
style  of  the  anderit  orations,  to  re^ 
them,  notwithstanding  their  ▼**" 
beauties,  a  standard  altogether  \fi^^ 
for  emulation 

A  speiker,  who  should  at  this  ^f» 
Adventurously  imitate  the  imp^t*^ 
strains,  or  th*  k>fly  flights,  which  «•» 
the  chasickelocution— who  sl»«»»  *J! 
to  pour  "  the  torreint,  or  ^^^^ 
splendid  c<toflagration,"  would  p«*»* 
bly^koite  not  more  surprise,  op  pj^ 
voke  greater  merriment,  by  appc^wf 


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IITBRA&T  M6VI«»a. 


60$ 


Mere  hit  tnS^ience  «nrebed  m  the  ^^ 
tesque  eoetume  of  antiquity. 

yfha^ser  tends  to  improve  or  to  wi« 
6ehthe  domiiuon  of  spee^  cannot  be 
«D  object  of  indifference  In  a  common- 
tredth.     '  ,    .     ^ 

Eloquence  has  always  been  admired 
and  studied  by  eveiy  free  peoj^.  It 
oigages  particularly  their  attention,  be- 
cause it  opens  to  them  the  widest  ave- 
nue to  dbtinction.  Compared  to  it,  the 
influence  of  the  other  attributes,  whidi 
elevate  to  rarfc,  or  confer  authority,  is 
feeble  and  insi^ficant  In  Greece  and 
Rome  it  rose,  by  coltStation,  to  the 
loftiest  pitch  of  refiftement,  and  the  his^ 
lory  of  those  states  confirms,  by  innu- 
merable instances,  the  truth,  **tliat 
Eloquence  ia  Power." 

But  no  where  has  a  condition  of  things 
prevailed,  holding  out  stronger  incite- 
ments to  its  acquirement,  or  more  aus- 
picious opportunities  for  its'  profitable 
exertion,  than'  in  the  United  States: 
There  are,  indeed,  m  the  peculiar  con- 
struction of  our  political  institutions, 
•dvantages  to  the  orator,  which  did  not 
belong  even  to  the  ancient  democracies. 
The  complex  fabrick  of  our  federative 
system  has  multiplied,  beyond  the  ex- 
mmpleof  any  government,  le^l&tive 
assemblies  and  jdificiary  estaUish- 
ments  :  each  of  which  is  not  only  a 
cchool  to  discipline  eloquenee,  but  alsd 
a  field  that  yields  the  abundant  harvest 
of  its  honours  and  emoluments. 

With  us  an  additional  motive  exists, 
to  stimulate  generous  ambition  to  the 
culture  of  oratory.  The  nation  has  a 
charaefetf  to  reoetve.  We  4^acmttAy 
hofpe  to  create,  and  emblazoA  one  with 
tiie  glitter  of,  military  deeds.  The  nat- 
ural feficfties  of  our  situation  will  for- 
bid,  perhaps  for  a  considerable  period, 
our  becoming  warlike. .  Reputation 
firom  the  improvements  of  Uteraturey  or 
^ience,  or  the  arts,  iM  equa%  deiued 
tp.us.  Centuries  muitt  elapse  before 
wre  can  amva  at  this  enviable  eminence. 
The  adolescenoe  of  a  people  is  not  the 
season  whidi  produces  such  improve* 
stents.  Ttiey  are  the  offiipring  of  a 
much  riper  age. 

•  Hitherto  we  are  chiefly  known  by  a 
hardv  spirit  of  commercial  enterprise, 
and  by  the  uncommon  possession  of  the 
fikcuhy  of  pidslick  speaking,  which  are 
the  probable  germinations  of  our  future 
character.  Into  these  dinections  the 
^nius  of  the  country  is  pressed  bj[ 
causes  not  readily  to  be  contin)le4^  £lo- 
quence  seems  to  flourish  well  among 


us.  Let  us  therfef<M*e  encourage  (u 
growth  till  it  becomes  the  distinguish^ 
mg  feature  of  the  American  people; 
Let  us,  since  we  are  excluded  fipom 
many  of  the  means  which  advance  th^ 
glory  of  a  nation,  endeavour  to  exalt 
our  fame  by  excelling  in  one  of  the  no« 
Uest  qualities  of  our  nature. 

Like  a  polished  repubfiek  of  anti- 
quity, we  will  be  content  to  be  cbarac^ 
terized  by  our  commerce  and  our  ora« 
tory.  The  winds  which  wtH  tlie  re^ 
dundant  products  of  our  industry  to  the!. 
remotest  regions  may  also  bear  our  re-' 
Aown  as  the  most  eloquent  people  of 
the  earth.  * 

Condkiosi.— I.  The  work  win  be  comyrind  ta 
3  iv  4  voh.  8vo.  II.  It  wlU  be  elenaUy  ^mui 
An  fine  paper,  unA  with  a,  type  bold  and  <&tlnct. 
III.  The  price  to  tubacrlKfB  will  be  two  dolUn 
moA  fiity  «ent0,  CMa  vdtmw.  Ta  fio%«ufaK» 
bov,  three  dollars.  IV.  It  is  con^eipplatcd  to  put 
the  work  to  preis  on  the  first  of  Noteinbcr. 

Mr.  Field  of  this  town  lias  pubUshsd 
,sn  engraving  of  Gen.  Hamilton  tnm  a 
portrut  painted  byTmmbuU. 

Dr.  Ramsay,  of  South  Carolina,  au- 
thor of  the  history  of  the  American  re» 
voiution,is  writing  a  life  of  Waahingtopf 

We  learn  that  L  Riley  ^  Co.  of  New- 
York,have  now  in  press^ which  they  will 
aliortly  publish,  the  translation  of  a  nesf 
&  very  mteresting  work*  which  first  ap» 
peared  in  Paris,  only  about  two  months 
since.  This  work  is  entitled,  «  A 
Voyage  to  the  Eastern  Part  of  Terra 
Firms,  or  the  Spanish  Main,  in  Soutlf 
America,  during  the  years  of  ISOlf 
1302,  X803,  and  1804  :  containing  a 
description  of  the  Commandery  or  Dis* 
trict  of  Caraccas,  composed  of  the 
Provinces  of  Venezuela,  Maracaibou 
Varinas,  Spanish  Guiana,  Cumana,  ana 
the  Isljmd  of  Marearett;i — with  parti- 
culars i-elative  to  Uie  Discovery,  Con- 
quest, Topography,  Legislation,  Com- 
merce, Fmaiices,  Lihabitants  aiKi  Pro- 
ductions of  those  Provinces  ;  with  a 
view  of  the  manners  and  eustoms  of 
tiie  Spaniards,  and  of  the  Ii^dians  hoih 
civilized  and  uncivilized,  by  F.  Dcpons» 
late  Agent  of  the  French  Government 
at  CaraccttS.**  This  work  which^ 
from  our  daily  increasing  commerce 
and  communication  with  the  Spanish 
Cc4poi^9,  with  thAt  of  Caraccas,  more 
particulariy,  would  at  any  time  attract 
m  a  higb  degree,  dlic  curioaity  of  the 
American  Publick  must,  we  presume, 
fhom  recent^ocatrrences,  be,  at  this  mo- 
ment, pecuUariy  interesting.  We  feel 
desirous  to  ascertain,  from  the  report  of 
an -scute  Slid    weH  qualified  observer 


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MEDICAL   EKPOBt. 


who  has  long  resided  on  the  spot,  the 
character  and  other  particulars  rela- 
tive to  a  people  with  whom  our  inter- 
course is  already  an  object  of  ^eat 
mercantile  importance,  and  of  whom 
we  know  at  present  little  more  from 
correct  information  than  we  do  of  tlie 
inhabitants  of  Japan. 

MuftU  Economy. — We  are  happ}r  to 
announce  that  I.  Riley  &  Co.  have  just 
published  in  1  vol.  8vo.  a  very  valuable 
work  upon  a  method  of  building,  much 
employed  in  Italy  and  France,  known 
by  the  name  of  Pls^,  the  materials  of 
which  are  earth,  which  promises  to  be 
of  great  utility  in  the  country,  more 
partkculariy  as  applied  to  farm  houses, 
cottages  and  out  buildings.  It  is  the 
production  of  S.  W.  Johnson,  Esq.  of 
Brunswick,  New  Jersey,  a  gentleman 
who  has  long  devoted  his  attention  to 
improvements  in  husbandry  and  rural 
economy.  This  mode  of  building  has 
received  the  sanction  of  the  Board  of 
agriculture  in  Great  Britain  by  whom 
it  is  higfhly  recommended  to  the 
government  both  for  its  cheapness, 
healthiness,  and  security  from  fire. 
*rhe  author  who  appears  to  have  paid 
all  that  attention  to  the  subject  wnich 
its  importance  demands,  has  suggested 
some  very  material  improvements  upon 
the  plan  recommended  by  the  Board  of 
agriculture,  together  with  such  altera- 
tions as  the  difference  of  climate  in 
this  country  may  reqiure.  This  publi- 
cation contains  also  some  general 
instructions  relative  to  the  site  and  ar- 
rangement of  buildings  appertaining  to 
the  farm,  strictures  on  the  cultivation 
of  the  vine,  and  an  essay  on  the  manner 
of  making  Turnpike  Roads,  with  the 
advantages  arising  from  them,  accom- 
panied \inth  scales  of  elevation  and  de- 
pression for  convex  and  concave  roads, 
and  a  number  of  plates  explanatory  of 
the  different  subjects. 

From  the  cursory  examination  which 
we  have  been  able  to  bestow  upon  this 
work,  we  hesitate  not  to  recommend  it 
to  the  publick  as  one  that  will  probably 

1>rov6  of  the  g^atest  utility  particular- 
y  to  the  agricultural  interest — Herald. 


STATEMEKT  OF  DISEASES, 
Frvtn  Aug.  20  to  Sept.  20. 

ON  the  22d  of  August,  the  sDell, 
which  seemed  to  have  bound  the  hea- 
vens, was  brc^en  ;  the  rain  fell  in  tor- 
rents, and  since  that  time  the  quai^tity 


which  has  iallai  is  ahtost  niOMMtpsr* 
allel,  in  the  same  space  of  time.  The 
winds  have  been  principally  from  the 
N.E.  and  S. W.  quarters.  It  b  wdl  to 
remark,  that  the  furious  storm  frn  ik 
north-east,  which  committed  sudi  htF- 
ock  among  the  shipping  along  the  whole 
coast  of  the  United  States,  was  fint  {ek 
in  the  southern  latitudes.  In  Ctfolina, 
it  commenced  on  the  21st  of  AogusL 
Along  the  coast  of  the  middle  sUtes,  it 
raged  on  the  22d  and  23d.  InBcr^ot, 
it  was  not  noticed  till  the  24th,  althou^ 
there  was  some  rain  on  the  day  pre* 
vious.  This  interesting  fact  confims  a 
obsen^ation,  respecting  the  storms  d 
this  country,  first  made  by  Fr«nklin,iDd 
ailer  him  by  WilUams  tnd  Vobcr. 
Phenomena  of  this  nature  shouUK 
carefiilly  noted,  in  order  to  as&i^'- 
in  explaining  the  peculiarities  of  tis 
climate  of  the  United  Stotes.  "Hx 
weather  has  been  cooler  than  comaa 
during  great  part  of  the  month. 

The  cholera  of  children  has  pwbbi? 
been  the  most  common  disease.  U^ 
not  been  so  frequent  nor  so  fatal,  »^ 
usually  is  at  this  season.  Neariytt* 
same  remark  may  be  applied  to  tlr 
common  disease  of  adults,  the  aotasiw 
fever.  This  has  generally  bccfl  «  » 
mild  character,  and  rarely  fatal 

There  have  not  been  man)  cisei  « 
cow-pock  during  tlie  past  montli 


IN  our  preTent  number  we  ba»e  *''*^ 
of  prcTcndng  for  the  peru&l  of  oor  pw»* 
Poem  of  Mr.  WhltweU,  wWch  ■*"***?^ 
delight  to  thofe  who  heard  it  and  a^ 
honour  on  the  Sodcty  of  which  he  i» »  »»*^ 
The  poem  abound*  with  beautiful  »crfa  **^ 
gent  fatlre.  We  congratulate  the  ib*»  *J 
amid  the  boftle  of  the  bar  and  the  pt^* 
cllenti,he  can  Awcetlr tone  '***^'^^ 
alter  repeating  the  diflbnant  acccntfrf  ***^ 
French  and  Leonine  Latfai,  he  can  **<t^ 
niouflraUM.  WehopcAeaolhor*****^ 
ally  decoate  our  colomna  with  ***^*"^  ^ 
the  banka  of  Keonebeck,  uul,  in  the  ««^ 
Shenftone,  we  entreat  hUn, 

•»  Though  form*d  for  courts,  roochfifc"'^ 

Inglorious  through  the  Oiepbeni'k  fi»*« 

And  ope  the  batifol  i^rings.** 

We  regret  that,  in  the  hwry  rf  «^ 
foroc  crroufB  were  committed,  which  •*^ 
bur  readers  to  coaca.    lo  the  8oth  fioC*^ 

"  Lent  to  Satumli  to  begafle  txs  Jtitt 
in  the  aipthline  read,  .> 

•♦  Who  flptcad  Dcluflon  like  a  m«  ««*• 


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THS 


MONTHLY    ANTHOLOGY. 


OCTOBER,    1806. 


Far  iht  Antholoiy^ 
A  DISQUISITION  UPON  THE   PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE   ANCIENTS. 

VBOMOUNCBD    BEFORE    THE   SOCIETY    OF  ^   B    K>    AT    THEIR     ANKXVERSARY 
MEETING    IN    CAMBRIPCB,   28tU    AUGUST,    1806. 

Bt  Thomas  Boylstok  Adams. 


This  anniversary  festival  again 
invites  the  Brethren  of  the  ^  B  IC 
to  renew  their  vows  of  friendship 
and  fraternity  ;  to  revive  the  rae- 
xnory  of  former  intimacies,  and 
consecrate  to  futunty  habits  of  af- 
fection more  recently  begun. 

Greetings  of  cordiality  await 
the  attending  members  of  our  so- 
cial institution,  mingled  with  re- 
gret for  those  unavoidably  absent. 

We  offer  no  incense  to  propitiate, 
anc^mmolate  no  victim  to  appease 
heatfien  Divinities.  In  our  Fasti 
this  day  is  sacred  to  Candour  and 
Philanthropy.  Our  only  sacrifice 
is,  of  the  worst  to  the  best  feelings 
of  the  heart ;  and  the  fragments 
gathered  at  our  feast,  which  cus- 
tom enjoins  it  as  a  duty  to  carry 
hence,  are,  the  grateful  remem- 
brance of  a  mental  repast,  season- 
ed with  the  salt  of  Charity. 

Thus,  in  the  principles  of  your 
Association,  is  found  an  excuse  for 
the  imperfections  of  the  speaker, 
"Who,  yielding  to  a  sense  of  duty 
mnd  your  partial  suffrage,  rather 
than  the  consciousness  of  his  iil- 
ftufiicienoy,  for  the  task  he  has  this 
day  assumed,  anticipates  only  gra- 

Vol  III.  No.  10.       3Q, 


tuitous  applause  for  well-meant 
endeavours. 

By  the  mystery  of  otir  calling, 
my  brethren,  we  arc  naturally  at- 
tracted toward  the  fountains  of 
Science,  and  to  ramble  without  re* 
serve  in  the  pleasant  fields  of 
Philosophy. 

Philosophy  !  which  a^cs  of 
superstition  idolized  as  a  Divinity, 
and  which,  though  stripped  of 
attributes  and  attractions,  worthy 
the  homage,  and  challenging 
those  false  trappings,  still  retains 
the  love  and  admiration  of  man 
in  every  age.  The  prolifick  parent 
of  the  social  virtues  and  moral 
graces,  it  has  been  usual  to  person- 
ify Philosophy  as  a  female,  and  i?i 
that  character  has  she  been  hon- 
oured with  "  the  glorious  epithets 
of  the  Mistress  of  Manners^  the 
Directress  of  Ufe^  the  Inventres^ 
of  Latos  and  Culture^  the  Guide  to 
Virtue  and  Hafifnness.**  If  these 
be  her  appropriate  titled,  no  won- 
der that  Socrates,  her  great  high 
priest,  "  who  diverted  the  attention 
of  his  followers  from  abstruse 
speculations  concerning  the  mate- 
rial world  to  the  practice  of  virtue 


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506 


A   DlSqUISITION   ON  THE 


and  the  uniform  observance  of  the 
duties  of  life/'  is  represented  by  Ci- 
cero as  having  brought  philosophy 
down  from  heaven.  Thus  descend- 
ed, Pythagoras  had  ah*ead/  given 
her  "  a  name,  whereby  she  might 
be  known  among  men."  having  de- 
fined those  to  be  philosophers, 
w,who  made  light  of  all  other  pur- 
suits.and  assiduously  applied  them- 
selves to  the  study  of  nature,  and 
the  search  after  wisdom." 

The  history  of  philosophy  and 
thit  of  letters  are  so  intimately  blen- 
ded, that  it  is  impossible  to  distin- 
guish between  those  causes,  which 
have  retarded  the  progress  of  the 
one,  without  involvinj^  the  fate  of 
the  other.  One  event,  indeed, 
seems  to  have  happened  to  them 
both.  Like  the  Bemf actors  of 
mankind,  in  all  age*  they  have 
shared  Iwgcly  of  in^^rantude  ;  by 
turns  the  sport  of  wantonness  and 
the  victims  of  savage  cruelty  ; 
sometimjs  in  penis,  like  St.  Paul, 
from  false  brethren,  and  sometimes 
suffocated  by  the  smoke  or  redu- 
ced to  cinders  by  the  flames,  which 
casualty  or  design  have  enkindled  in 
the  midst  of  their  dwelling  places. 

The  errours  of  the  human  mind 
deserve  consideration,  not  oil  their 
own  account,  but  because  we  may 
use  them  as  beacons  to  admonish 
us  of  danger,  and  as  they  point 
out  the  shoals,  upon  Which  others 
have  made  shipwreck. 

Shall  we  think  with  Hume*  and 
Piie8tley,t  who  concur  in  sentiment 
that  "  the  devastations  of  barba- 
rians and  the  destruction  of  rec- 
oiadS)  with  other  monuments  of 
antiquity,  have  been  rather  favour- 
able, tlian  adverse  to  the  arts  and 
sciences,  by  breaking  the  progress 
of  authority  *'  ?  Then,  indeed,  may 
consolation  spring  from  some  e- 

•  Hume's  Essays. 

t  Priestley.  Leo.  Gen.  Policy. 


vents,  which  other  eyes  have  view- 
ed, and  history  records,  as  the  con- 
summation of  calamity.  The  sol- 
diers of  Julius  Cxsar  and  the 
Saracen  caliph  Omar,  b  league 
with  the  elements,  tried  by  this 
test,  were  the  first  philanthropist. 
The  progress  of  authority  could 
not  have  been  more  effectually 
checked,  than  by  the  burning  of 
those  almost  innumerable  volumes, 
which  the  wealth  of  the  Egyptian 
Ptolemies  had  amassed  in  the 
Alexandrian  libraries.  "  An  ama- 
zing repositoiy  of  ancient  science," 
the  annihilation  of  which  the  ac- 
complished author  of  the  Gbscnerf 
deplores,  as  the  loss  of  the  roost 
valuable  tre insure  upon  earth. 

"  It  was  buried  in  ashes,"  says 
this  animated  writer, "  by  the  well- 
known  quibbling  edict  of  a  barba- 
rous fanatick."  "  I£i  said  the  em- 
"  perour,  these  volumes  contain 
"  doctrines  conformable  tothcKo- 
"  ran,  then  is  the  Koran  alone  suf- 
«  ficient,  without  these  volumes  i 
"  but  if  what  they  teach  be  repug- 
"  nant  to  God's  book,  then  is  it 
'*  fitting  they  were  destroyed." 

«  Thus,  with  false  reason  for 
their  judge,  and  false  religion  for 
their  executioner,  perished  an  in- 
numeral)le  company  of  Poc^^ 
Philosophers,  and  Historians,  with 
almost  every  thing  elegant  in  Art 
and  edifying  in  Science,  which  the 
most  illuminated  people  on  earth 
had,  in  the  luxuriance  of  their  ge- 
nius, produced.  In  vain  did  the 
philosopher  John,  (sumamcd  the 
Grammarian)  intercede  to  saw 
them.  Universal  condemDatwo 
to  the  flames  was  the  sentence,  Jg* 
norance  denounced  against  these 
literary  martyrs.  The  flow  of  ^ 
the  flights  of  fancy,  and  the  labouj^ 
of  learning,  alike  contnbuted  w 
feed  the  fires  of  those  baths,  >» 

X  Cumberland's  Observer,  No.  19. 


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FHH.OSOFHT   OF    THE   ANClfcNTS. 


5or 


which  the  savage  conquerors  re- 
created themselves  after  the  toils 
of  the  siege .^* 

«  Need  we  inquire,  when  art 
and  science  were  extinct,  if  dark- 
ness overspread  the  nations  ?  It 
is  a  peiiod  too  mdanchply  to  re- 
flect upon  and  too  vacant  to  re- 
cord. History  passes  over  it,  as 
over  the  chart  of  an  ocean  with- 
out  a  shore,  with  this  cutting  recoU 
lection  accompanying  it,  that  in 
this  ocean  are  buried  many  of 
the  brightest  monuments  of  an^ 
cient  genius.*' 

The  furious  zeal  of  this  Mrfio- 
metan  prince  in  favour  of  his  re- 
ligion, which  thus  laid  science  in 
ruins,  has  unhappily  found  a  paral- 
lel in  the  annals  of  the  Christian 
Church.  At  a  period,  when  philo- 
sophy had  incurred  disgrace,  by 
the  perverseness  and  treachery  of 
some  unworthy  professors,  a  Ro- 
man emperour  waged  war  against 
the  whole  race  of  philosophers. 
Instigated  by  an  inveterate  aver- 
sion to  those,  who  still  practised 
pagan  idolatry,  Justinian  shut  up 
the  schools,  which  still  remained 
at  Athens,  and  deprived  the  teach- 
ers of  their  revenues  ;  «nd  a  Ro- 
inan  pontiff,  inflamed  by  a  similar 
hatred,  under  the  pretext  of  con- 
lining  the  attention  of  the  clergy 
to  the  sacred  scriptures,  at  another 
time,  consigned  to  the  flames  the 
valuable  collections  of  books,  fbrm.- 
cd  by  the  Roman  emperours. 

That  learning  should  have  sur- 
vived these  accumulated  disasters 
is  scarcely  credible.  As  an  epoch 
in  the  history  of  Philosophy,  may 
it  not  be  ranked  with  the  general 
deluge  of  the  world  ?  And  as  the 
genealogy  of  princes,  after  the 
flood,  could  be  traced  no  higher 
than  the  head  of  a  single  family, 
by  whom  the  world  was  renewed, 
so,  for  a  genealogy  of  letters,  are 
we  not  compelled  to  look  up  to  the 


solitary  and  scattered  remnants, 
which  escaped  these  general  con- 
flagrations f  These,  together  with 
the  ScrifitureB  of  Truthy  have  re- 
built and  repeopled  the  desolate 
places  of  wisdom  ;  and,  if  we  listen 
to  the  self  complacency  of  the 
present  age,  the  light  of  Science 
now  shines  with  brighter  kistrc 
and  more  expanded  rays,  than  at 
any  former  period.  As  one  proof, 
among  many,  of  the  prevalence  of 
this  opiiion,  an  appeal  to  French 
authority  may  not  be  deemed  un- 
pardonable. A  distinguished  mem- 
ber of  the  French  Academy,* 
contrasting  the  merits  of  ancient 
and  modern  researches  into  tl  c 
arcana  of  nature,  indulges  in 
the  following  strain.—"  No  soon- 
er had  the  first  Philosophers 
looked  about  them,  than  they  be- 
lieved at  once  that  they  knew 
every  thing.  Their  fii-st  im- 
pressions seem  to  have  been— we 
see  all  things,and  we  are  at  no  loss 
to  account  for  the  cause  of  all 
things.  As  in  a  dream,  they  be- 
held the  universe  rising  to  view  ; 
they  dreamt  of  the  principles,  the 
properties,  and  the  origin  of  things, 
and  they  never  awoke  from  their 
slumbers." 

"  Thus  the  vicients,  in  other 
woixis,  those  who  deserve  prece^ 
dence  in  ignorance,  believed  thcm^ 
sehxs  wise.  Unfortunately,  be* 
cause  they  believed  it  themselves, 
nobody  else  doubted  it.  «« Profess* 
ing  themselves  to  be  wise  they  be* 
came  fools ;"  but  this  fact  was  not 
discovered  for  some  ages.  Seniori* 
ty  was,in  their  estimation,  the  best 
title  to  knowledge,  and  supplied  all 
scientifick  deficiences.  The  Egyp- 
tians arc  a  law  to  the  Greeks,  the 
Greeks  to  the  Romans  5    and  in 


*  M.   L*Abb6    CondUlac.     Court 
d'Etudcs.  Tom.  (5. 


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9M 


4  DftqVWTIOH  0«  T|» 


our  day  both  Greeks  md  Romans 
are  a  law  to  us." 

<<  Empires  are  subverted,  and 
nations  are  buried  under  their 
ruins*  but  opinions  endure ;  they 
aurvive  all  ages,  and  never  grow 
old.  An  ostensible  change  in 
modes  of  thinking  is  often  less  a 
proof  of  novelty,  than  of  an  old 
fashion  in  disguise." 

«  Formerly  philosophers  under- 
took to  explain  every  thing,  with- 
out previous  experiment  ;  raising 
doubts,  without  knowing  whether 
they  were  susceptible  of  solution  ; 
flattering  themselves  with  hopes 
of ^  new  discoveries,  without  pos- 
sessing the  means  of  investigation, 
and  even  when  they  knew  not 
what  they  sought.  Alone  inquifii- 
live  respecting  things  above  their 
reach  or  comprehension,  they  as- 
sociated vague  ideas,  obscure  or 
falkcious.  ^  They  framed  hypo* 
theses,  and  because  they  took  no 
note  of  them,  they  were  constantr 
ly  reproducing  the  same  <^inions 
in  a  new  shape  ;  so  that  nobody 
need  be  surprised  at  the  informa- 
tion, that  all  the  opinions  of  the 
ancient  philosophers  are  comprized 
in  a  small  compass  of  ideas,  wheret 
in  they  are  confounded  with  each 
other.  No  one  has  ever  adven- 
tured beyond  it«  and,  as  to  a  com- 
fnon  centre,  all  are  attracted  thi* 
ther  by  ignorance,  their  guide." 

"  True  philosophy  is  but  of 
yesterday,  and  it  is  because  expe- 
riment has  lent  her  aid  to  genius, 
that  the  sphere  of  knowledge  is 
enlarged.  Whatever  may  be  the 
.extent  of  this  sphere,  it  is  never*- 
thelc^s  bounded,  and  we  cannot 
pvcrjeap  its  limits.  Being  "  child- 
ren of  darkness  rather  than  light," 
ive  are  perpetually  seeking  that 
port,  whence  we  departed  on  the 
voyage  of  discovery.  But,  if  ma- 
ny things  are  impenetrably  bid 
ttom  our  view,  it  is,  at  )cast,in  our 


power  to  avoid  many  errours.  Let 
us  habituate  ourselves  to  passing 
judgment  upon  things,  of  which 
we  can  attain  true  knowledge— Jet 
us  be  ignorant  of  the  restf  and 
without  fear  avow  it." 

In  the  same  spirit,  though  more 
highly  seasoned,  is  the  opinion 
which  the  Baron  Montesquieu* 
has  left  behind  him,  of  the  small 
advances,  made  by  the  ancientS| 
in  several  branches  of  learning. 

At  the  close  of  a  preface  to  one 
of  his  sallies  of  levity  (called  the 
Temple  of  Gnidus)  he  remarks, 
that,  *<  if  |T<nv  profile  should  de- 
sire of  him  a  less  frivolous  woHl, 
he  is  ready  to  satisfy  the  demand  ; 
having  laboured  thirty  ycavM  upon 
a  book  of  tvjctve  ho-gcB%  which 
will  contain  all  our  knowledge  of 
mctaphyucka^  fiolitick%^  and  moralt^ 
and  every  thing  which  the  greatest 
authors  have  forgotten^  in  the  vol- 
umes they  have  written  upon  those 
respective  sciences." 
.  The  term  philosophy  admits  an4 
has  received  a  very  large  interpre- 
tation. <^  At  some  peiiods  Its  sig- 
nification has  been  extended  so  far, 
as  to  include,  not  only  all  specu- 
lative science,  but  also  skill  in  mu- 
nicipal law ;  the  knowledge  of 
medicine  ;  the  art  of  criticism 
and  the  whole  circle  of  polite  lite^ 
rature.  The  Christian  religion 
was  called  sacred  philosophy,  and 
ecclesiastical  doctors  and  monks 
were  styled  philosophers." 

"  The  history  of  philosophy, 
according  to  Dr.  Enfield,*  is  the 
history  of  the  human  understand- 
ing ;  clearly  shewing  the  extent 
of  its  capacity,  the  causes  of  its 
perversion,  and  the  means,  by 
which  it  may  be  recalled  from  its 
unprofitable  wanderings,  and  sue- 

*  LeTen|Ae  de  Gnida,  psrk 
HanteMuieu. 
t  Enfield's  History  of  PhilQsa|)lv} 


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PHIb060P»Y   or   TH£   ANCIENTS. 


609 


^es&fully  eiDployed  in  subBcrviency 
to  the   happine&s  of  mankind." 

Tliat  spirit  of  inquiry,  wliich  we 
derive  from  nature,  and  which 
commonly  discovers  itself  with  the 
first  dawning  of  the  human  intel- 
lect may  be  aptly  denontinated 
file  lorve  of  windom.  In  this  sense 
the  prattling  infant  is  as  much  a 
philosopher,  as  tlie  hoary -headed 
sage.  Curiosity,  which,  instead  of 
being  satiated,  gpx>ws  hungry  by 
indulgence,  irrst  busies  itself  about 
the  namea  of  natural  bodies  ;  next, 
their  /lectUiar  firofiertie^  and  aji/iro' 
firiate  use*  ,•  then,  the  causes  of 
their  existence.  Such  is  the  phi- 
losophy of  nature;  and  moral  phi- 
losophy, necessarily,  pursues  the 
same  track  in  her  investigation  of 
the  operations  of  mind  ;  for  valu- 
able or  useful  discoveries,  both 
depend  upon  a  previous  knowledge 
of  fact,  obtained  by  careful  experi- 
ment and  critical  observation. 

While  the  study  of  moral  phi- 
losophy has  confessedly  fallen  into 
neglect,  the  institutions  of  modem 
times  are  chiefly  designed  to  facil- 
itate the  acquisition  of  natural 
knowledge  ;  but,  for  lessons  of 
morality,  we  have  the  inestimable 
privilege  of  resorting  to  the  tem- 
ples of  our  God.  It  is  to  be  fear- 
ed, that  the  rage  of  innovation, 
aided  by  an  artificial  aversion  and 
an  unnatural  distaste  for  ancient 
-wisdom,  which  infidelity  has  lately 
wrouglit  up  to  a  pitch  of  extrava- 
gance, has  already  produced  alarm- 
ing consequences  to  society.  That 
the  fetters  of  superstition,  rivetted 
by  ancient  authority,  have  scarcely 
less  retarded  the  progress  of  im- 
provement, than  the  mournful  des- 
olations of  war,  is  a  favourite  doc- 
trine of  the  times  ;  and  it  is  by  no 
means  uncommon  to  hear  a  reve- 
rence for  the  ancients  derided,  as 
a  tyrannical  usurpation  over  hu- 
man rea9on.    lo  orde^  to  dethrone 


this  despot*  and  restore  the  under- 
standing to  its  natural  fieedom,  the 
discipline  of  the  schools  must  be 
utterly  abolished,  and  the  props  of 
authority  must  be  left  to  moulder 
away,  by  long  interruptions  in  the 
progress  of  learning  ;  youth  must 
no  longer  be  harassed  by  the  study 
of  heathen  writers,  vulgarly  called 
Classicks,  because  of  the  danger  of 
corrupting  their  morals  ;  and,  to 
finish  the  climax,  the  holy  bible, 
instead  of  a  code  of  divine  inspira- 
tion, the  refuge  of  mortals  on  earth 
and  their  only  guide  to  heaven,  has 
lately  been  discovered  to  be  only  a 
compilation  of  monkish  impostors. 

The  obstacles  to  the  attainment  of 
knowledge,  one  would  think,  were 
already  sufficiently  numerous,  with- 
out the  auxiliary  aid  of  systematic^ 
degradation;  for  the  labourers  in  the 
vineyard  of  visdom,  and  the  suitors 
in  the  courts  of  the  Muses,  have 
been  few,  in  all  ages,  and  their  re- 
ward has  more  frequently  been 
stripes,  than  blessings,  from  their 
cotemporaries  ;  but  the  honour  of 
laying  the  foundation  for  an  insti* 
tute  of  ignorance  exclusively  be- 
longs to  the   age  of  reason. 

Within  a  century  past  scepti- 
cism has  aimed  many  open  ancl 
many  insidious  blows  at  tlie  purest 
system  of  morals  that  ever  blessccl 
mankind,  by  studied  attempts  tp 
bring  in  question  its  divine  oiigin. 
What  aggravates  the  iniquity  of 
these  pernicious  lalx>urs  is,  the 
unwelcome  recollection,  that  they 
have  been,  for  the  most  part, 
achieved  by  men  of  superiovir  sci- 
cntifick  attainments,  whose  exer- 
cises of  intellect,  in  every  other 
branch  of  leaming,  reflect  lustre 
upon  letters.  Pitiful  employ- 
ment !  shameful  perversion  of 
mental  endowments  I  To  partic-; 
ularize  individuals,  who  have  lent 
their  aid  to  undermine  the  fabrick 
of  Christian  faith,  becomes  not  this, 


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510 


A  DisquxaiTiow  ow  the 


occasion.  How  largely  this  phi- 
losophy has  contributed  to  produce 
those  revolutions  of  states  and  em- 
pires, of  which  the  scene  is  prin- 
cipally laid  in  Europe,  is  an  inqui- 
ry, which,  by  its  interest,  might 
reward  the  patient  research  of 
scholars  and  statesmen. 

It  is  not,  in  fact,  nor  ought  it  to  be 
mentioned  as  any  disparagement  of 
the  ancient  moralists,that  their  writ- 
ings breathe  not  the  pure  ethereal 
precepts  of  the  Christian  doctrines. 
With  devotional  fervour  many  of 
them  sought  for  the  knowledge  of 
truths,  which  by  the  help  of  reve- 
lation are  happily  familiarized  to 
us  ;  but  it  did  not  comport  'with 
the  views  of  God  to  man,  that  dis- 
coveries of  his  divine  attributes 
should  result  from  the  most  un- 
"weaiied  exercise  of  unassisted  rea- 
son. Yet,  by  the  systems  of  mor- 
als which  were  taught  in  the 
schools  of  the  first  masters  of  phi- 
losophy, the  condition  of  the  hu- 
man race  was  raised  from  debase- 
ment ;  the  violence  of  the  passions 
received  a  salutary  check ;  and  the 
prevalence  of  corruption  and  im- 
piety became  more  rare  among 
mankind.  Had  the  lives  and  the 
doctrines  of  their  adherents  been 
coincident  with  the  original  tenets 
of  the  first  teachers,  Philosophy 
had  never  "  given  occasion  for  her 
enemies  to  blaspheme."  She 
might  not  have  been  doomed  to 
ring  all  the  changes  of  the  Mc- 
tempsichosis  of  vice  and  impurity. 
Such  a  barometer,  as  has  been 
graduated  for  the  philosophy  of 
Greece,  had  never  been  applied  to 
the  purpose  of  noting  the  fluctua- 
tions in  the  state  of  the'  moral 
atmosphere,  even  among  th.e  hea- 
then. 

It  could  not  with  truth  have  been 
said  of  the  philosophy,  which  Plato 
and  Aristotle  admired,that  it  became 
»*  impious  under  Diagoras  j  vicious 


under  Epicunis ;  h^ocritiealnndtr 
Zeno  ;  imfmdent  under  Diogenes  ; 
covetous  undtv  Demochares ;  vohtp- 
tuoua  under  Metrodorus  \  fantastical 
under  Crates ;  scurrilous  under  Me- 
nippus  ;  licentious  under  Pyrrho ; 
and  quarrelsome  under  Cleanthcs.'** 
It  is  nevertheless  sufficiently  at- 
tested, that  the  lonick  and  Italick 
schools,  at  the  head  of  which  were 
Thales  and  Pythagoras,  split  into 
numerous  sects,  as  various  in  their 
doctrines,  as  in  their  modes  of 
teaching.  Each  had  its  favourite 
hypothesis,  while  all  were  confes- 
sedly occupied  in  the  search  after 
happiness,  or  the  greatest  good. 

Some  place  the  bliss  in  action^  some  in 

ease, 
Those  call  it  pleasure,  and  contentment 

these  ; 
Some,  sunk  to  beasts,  find  pleasure  end 

in  pain» 
Some,  swell'd  to  Gods,  confess  ev^  vir- 

tue  vain  ; 
Or,  indolent,  to  each  extreme  they  fiJI, 
To  trust  in  every  thing,  or  doubt  of  alLf 

As  the  natural  propensities  of 
men  dictated,  and  as  their  dispo- 
sitions inclined,  they  were  led  to 
embrace  opposite  schemes  for  the 
attainment  of  a  common  end ;  and 
a  supposed  affinity  between  the 
different  temperaments  of  men 
and  the  sects  themselves  has  been 
assigned  as  the  impelling  motive 
to  a  choice  of  masters.  "  Noth- 
ing," says  De  Pauw,  "  being  more 
natural,  than  that  those,  who  were 
born  with  great  force  of  mind  and 
strong  nerves,  should  discover  a 
predilection  for  stoidsm,  while 
mortals,  endowed  by  nature  with 
mo^e  delicacy  of  fibres,  fled  for  re- 
fuge to  the  myrtles  of  Epicurus. 
People,  whose  temper  partook  of 
no  extrenie,  were  inclined  for  the 
Lyceum,  or  the  Academy  ;  such 
as  possessed  solidity  of  understand- 

*  Encyclopaedia.  Tit  Philosc^by. 
t  )Pope.  Essay  on  Man.  * 


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PHILOSOPHY   OF   THE   ANCIENTS. 


SU 


iog  ranged  themselves  with  Aris- 
totle ;  and  those  who  had  only  ge- 
nius, or  even  pretensions  to  that 
endowment,  went  to  augment  the 
crowd  of  Platonists." 

It  is  assumed,  as  an  historical 
fact,  that  the  maxims  of  moral 
philosophy  taught  in  the  schools 
of  Socrates,  Plato,  and  Aristotle, 
very  powerfully  contributed  to  dis- 
cipline the  minds  of  men  for  the 
reception  of  the  sublimer  doctrines 
of  Christianity  ;  though,  it  is  no 
less  certain,  that  the  active  jealou- 
sy of  many,  styling  themselves 
disciples  of  Plato,  had  an  influence 
in  retarding  the  establishment  of 
the  Christian  Religion.  Their 
hostility,  so  well  attested,  is  ascrib- 
ed with  some  plausibility  to  their 
settled  veneration  for  the  head  of 
their  sect,  and  an  apprehension, 
that  the  new  system  would  speed- 
ily eradicate  their  favourite  philo- 
sophy, which,  of  all  others,  in  the 
opinion  of  a  modern  enthusiast, 
**  discovers  the  greatest  conformi- 
ty with  Revelaaon."  Whether 
this  honour  be  ascribed  to  the  senti- 
nients  of  Plato  or  of  Socrates,  is 
perhaps  not  very  material  ;  but,  as 
the  former  was  a  disciple  of  the 
latter,  the  praise  of  conformity  be- 
longs rather^to  the  master,  than  the 
scholar. 

The  united  testimony  of  ancient 
ftnd  modern  writers  gives  rank  to 
Socrates,  as  the  most  extraordina- 
ry person,  that  ever  appeared  in 
the  heathen  world ;  and,  in  our  day, 
vre  have  seen  a  philosophical  pa- 
rallel, between  the  character  of 
Socrates  and  Jesus  of  Kazareth^ 
produce  an  interesting  controver- 
0y,  between  t\yo  learned  Theolo- 
gians.f 

To  combat  vulgar  errours  ;  to 
stem  the  torrent  of  popular  preju- 
dice ;  and  to  meliorate  the  condi^ 

'   %  Priesthy  and  Linn's  controvtrsy. 


tion  of  men  in  despite  of  them- 
selves, is  of  all  employments  the 
most  thankless  ;  and  it  is  a  solemn 
truth,  that  the  best  and  richest 
gifts  of  providence,  in  the  persons 
and  characters  of  eminent  men, 
have  been  slighted,  if  not  rejected 
with  loathing,  by  those  for  whom 
the  blessing  was  designed.  Jeru- 
salem stoned  and  killed  her  pro- 
phets. Athens  poisoned  her  So- 
crates. -  Rome  murdered  her  Ci- 
cero. The  Jews— But  I  forbear 
further  to  trespass  on  holy  ground. 
The  fate  of  Socrates  is  most  con- 
nected with  my  subject.  Though 
not  untamishe(Lvvith  suspicion,  his 
life  and  character  are  for  the  most 
part  represented  in  the  most  ami- 
able light.  His  coteniporaries 
shiink  from  a  comparison,  be- 
cause the  example  he  gave  is  re- 
proachful of  their  dissoluteness  of 
manners. 

Athens  was  infested  with  a 
swarm  of  false  pretenders  to  wis- 
dom, denominated  Sophists,  whose 
trade  was  disputation  and  the  sum 
of  whose  merit  is  comprised  in  a 
short  sentence...they  had  the  art 
« to  make  the  worse  appear  the  bet- 
ter reason."  From  this  vermin 
it  was  the  ambidon  of  Socrates  to 
rid  his  country.  Their  hypocrisy, 
not  surpassed  by  that  of  the  scribes 
and  Pharisees,  he  knew  and  des- 
pised ;  their  ignorance  he  knew, 
and  exposed  it.  While  they  pre- 
tended to  such  acquisitions  of 
knowledge,  and  such  a  knack  of 
impardng  it  to  others,  that,  as  a 
facetious  Frenchman  professed  to 
teach  the  art  of  painting,  so  they 
could  teach  the  ait  of  wisdom,  in 
three  hour's  time,  Soci'ates,  who 
was  wiser  than  them  all,  proifessed 
to  know  but  this,  that  he  knew 
nothing.  At  ^n  advanced  period 
of  his  life,  the  rancour  of  those 
eneniies,  whom  all  his  life  had  ex- 
asperated)  enkindled   the  resent* 


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Sif 


A   DISqUISITIOK  ON  TRB 


ment  of  his  countrymen,  by  im- 
peaching him  of  the  heinous  sin 
of  "  endeavouiing  to  bring  wis- 
dom and  things  together,  and  make 
truth  consist  with  sober  sense." 
That  he  corrupted  the  youth,  and 
refused  homage  to  the  gods  of  his 
country,  were  other  ariicles  in  the 
charges  preferred  against  Socrates 
to  the  Athenian  senate.  The  stage 
had  been  employed  as  an  instru- 
ment, by  the  force  of  ridicule,  to 
destroy  the  influence  of  his  capti- 
vating manners  and  seducing  opin- 
ions, and  the  ribaldry  of  Aristo- 
phanes occasionally  bespattered  the 
transparent  dr:iper||oftheSocratick 
portrait  of  Divinity.  In  spile  of 
his  able  deL-nce,  iiis  enemies  pre- 
vailed upon  the  fickic  and  wayward 
pasbions  of  the  populace,  and  they 
decreed  death  by  poison  as  his 
portion.  Of  his  conduct  while  in 
prison,  after  sentence  had  been 
pronounced  against  him,  and  the 
magnanimity  of  the  last  scene  of 
his  life,  none  are  ignorant.  Cicero 
and  science  wept  his  unnatural 
death. 

Who  noble  ends,  by  noble  means,  ob- 
tains, 

Or  failing",  smiles  in  exile  or  in  cbalns. 

Like  gt>ocl  Aurelius,  let  him  reign  or 
bleed, 

Like  Socrates  that  man  is  great  indeed.* 

.  Notwithstanding  the  partial  esti- 
mation, in  which  Socrates  was  held 
by  antiquity,  and  however  extraor- 
dinary the  appearance  of  such  a  lu- 
minary may  be  considered  in  refer- 
ence to  the  period  of  his  life,it  is  on- 
ly fr6m  the  writings  of  his  two  dis- 
ciples, Xenophon  and  PlatOjthat  tes- 
timonials of  his  wisdom  are  to  be 
collected.  These  have  afforded 
matter  for  enthusiastick  encomium 
to  all  students  in  ethicks  to  the  pre- 
sent day  ;  but  there  are  those,  of 
no  mean  taste,  who,   comparing 

•  Pope.  Essay  on  Man. 


the  merits  of  moral  tt^eatiles^ 
adjudge  the  prize  to  Tully,  of 
whose  book  of  Offices  tl>e  famous 
Barbeyrac*  has  recorded  his  testi- 
mony, that  "  without  dispute  it  is 
the  best  treatise  of  morality,  with 
which  all  antiquity  has  furnished 
us." 

Should  a  parallel  be  run  between 
Socrates  and  Cicero,  with  a  view 
to  determine  which  has  most  in^ 
fluenced  the  manners  and  opinions 
of  posterity,  the  palm  of  victory- 
would  unquestionably  be  decreed 
to  the  Roman.  In  ethicks  and 
jurisprudence,  in  oratory  and  po- 
lite literature,  whether  in  theory 
or  in  practice,  it  must  be  inquired 
respecting  Cicero,  as  Cicero  in- 
quired of  Pisistratus,  "  who  of 
those  times  surpassed  him  in  learn- 
ing, or  what  orator  was  more  elo- 
quent or  accomplished  ?" 

In  a  disquisition  upon  philoso* 
p!iy,  to  omit  the  name  of  Chan- 
cellor Bacon,  the  great  reformer, 
might  be  thought  little  less  par- 
donable, than  for(  A  ti^eatise  upon 
the  reformation  in  religion  to  for- 
get the  name  of  Luther. 

It  was  he,  who,  in  the  language 
of  Sir  William  Jones,t  "  so  ele- 
gantly analysed  human  knowledge 
accoixling  to  the  three  great  facul- 
ties of  the  mind,  memory,  reasorty 
and  hnagination,  which  we  con- 
stantly find  employed  in  arranging 
and  retaining,  comparing  and  dis- 
tinguishing, combining  and  diver- 
sifying the  ideas  which  we  receive 
through  our  senses,  or  acquire  by 
reflection  ;  hence  the  three  main 
branches  of  learning  are  HUtory^ 
Science^  and  »4rt.  The  first  com* 
prehends  either  an  account  of  nat- 
ural productions,  or  the  genuine 
records  of  empires  and  states  ;  the 

•  Barbeyrac   Preface  to  PirfTcndoil 
t  Sir  WiUiam  Joives's  Works.    Dis- 
course proaovnced  before  th£  AsUtick 
Socicfy. 


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FRIL080PHT  Of   THE   AKCIXNTS. 


512 


second  Embraces  the  whele  circle 
of  pure  and  mixed  mathematicks, 
together  with  ethicks  and  law,  so 
for  as  they  depend  on  the  reason- 
ing faculty  ;  and  the  third  includes 
all  the  beauties  of  imagery,  and  the 
charms  of  invention,  displayed  in 
modulated  language,  or  represent- 
ed by  colour,  figure,  or  sound." 

It  was  Bacon,  who  first  gave  the 
plan  of  those  institutions  for  the 
acquisition  of  natural  science^ 
which,  since  his  day,  have  multi- 
plied in,  at  least,  three  quarters  of 
the  globe  j  the  objects  of  whose  in- 
.  quiries  are  «  Man  and  Nature, 
whatever  is  performed  by  the  one, 
or  produced  by  the  other." 

Of  those  institutions  in  our  own 
country,  professing  similar  objects, 
it  is  remarkable,  that  the  most  con- 
spicuous were  founded  amid  the 
din  of  arms,  and  in  the  very  heat 
of  our  struggle  for  independence  ; 
affording  an  honourable  illustration 
of  the  truth  of  a  maxim,  %hat  the 
love  of  liberty  and  that  of  solid 
and  useful  knowledge  walk  band 
in  hand. 

Philosophy,  indeed,  is  no  longer 
followed  as  a  profession,  but  in 
every  branch  of  profitable  knowl- 
edge,  the  labourers  are  many. 
Freedom  of  inquiry,  aided  by  facil- 
ities in  communicating  the  result 
of  laborious  investigation,  has  al- 
ready led  to    valuable  improve- 


ments in  agriculture,  commerce, 
and  manufactures.  Civil  polity  is 
in  the  hands  of  the  /leo/ile. ,.\tt  them 
look  to  it ;  while  science  and  the 
whole  family  of  her  kindred,  may 
be  safely  confided  to  the  fostering 
care  of  our  Mna  Mater. 

Upon  you,  my  brethren,  who 
are  still  detained  in  academick 
groves,  it  would  be  superfluous  to 
inculcate  emulation.  "  Verily  the 
reward  is  great."  Slaves  to  no 
sect,  but  followers  of  all  who  point 
the  path  to  truth,  let  it  be  your 
pride,  as  it  is  your  precious  prero- 
gative, like  the  Eclcctick  Philoso- 
phers, to  profit  of  all  the  good  and 
discard  all  the  pernicious  tenets  of 
ancient  or  modern  times.  Like 
good  soldiers  in  the  ranks  of  Af/- 
nervay  learn  to  vanquish  every  ob- 
stacle in  your  march  to  the  fortress 
of  knowledge,  and  as  a  motto  for 
your  banners,  while  scaling  the 
ramparts  of  her  citadel,  may  each 
individual  atjopt  the  inspiration  of 
the  Mantuan^Muse. 

•*  Tentanda  via  est  qui  me  quoqu« 

possim 
ToUerc  humo  ;  victorque  virum  voli- 

tarcperora." 

*•  I  too  will  boldly  strive  my  flight  to 

raise, 
And  wing'd  by  victory,  catch  the  gal« 

of  praise." 

Sotheby  Trans. 


CRITICISM. 

Trantlated  for  the  Anthology  from  the  Court  tie  Literature  of  La  Harpe, 
CConchided  from  p.  4^6.] 


Hkre  Narcissus  begins  to  be 
more  at  his  ease.  He  wished  to 
sound  the  soul  of  Nero  :  it  opens, 
and  he  sees,  that  nature  has  not 
cast  one  sigh,  that  there  is  there 
no  remorse,  not  one  sentiment  of 
virtue  ;  that  Nero  has  done  noth- 
ing from  any  regard  to  his  brother, 

Vol.  III.  No.  10.         3R 


or  his  mother,  or  Burrhus,  but  he 
only  still  fears  the  publick  opinion, 
the  last  restraint  of  a  perverse  and 
and  powerful  man,  when  he  has 
some  vanity.  Nero  has  yet  a  littJc 
left ;  and  it  is  by  this  vanity  tliut 
Narcissus  proceeds  to  get  the  mu^i- 
tery  of  him. 


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5U 


EACIKk's   BlilTANMICVS. 


Narcis»vs. — An.l,    my  lord,   do  you 

t"<i..)\v  !  1.  .r  i- ^nricf s  'or  giiidtii  ? 
Can  \ t»w  c\-:;cct  t'Kit  tiiey  wiil  ^dw.iys  be 

Is  it   w jririy  of  you    to  listen  to  their 

(UsL' tursc9  ? 
W.li  yoa  bury  in  oblivion  all  your  c-wn 

desires  ? 
And  will  you  be  the  only  one,  you  dare 

not  c(^nf'ide  in  ? 
But,  my   I^ord,   the  Romiais  are    not 

known  to  you. 
No  :  No  :  in  tlu  ir  discourses  tliey  are 

more  reserved. 
So   nmch    prer;:uii')n    cnn.cbles    your 

fftn'cmnKnl  ; 
They  wili  s  >';n  lihtier  tlumselvcs,  that 

tiicy  deserve  tu  be  ic;»retL 

£i  prcnez  vous,  seigneur,  leura  caprices 

pour  gui.ie^  ? 
Avez  vous  pretenUxi  qu^Hs  *e  tairaient  tou- 

jours  ? 
Eit-ce  a   V0U3  de  pre:cr  rorciUe  a  leurs 

discours  ? 
De    vis  p'-oprcs   ditirs  pcrJrrz   vjus  la 

virmtire  ? 
Et  scrtz  V0U9  le  sen!  que  ri'oserrZ  croire  ? 
Muist  *L'!(^.'}tur,  les  Romans  nc  vous  sofU 

pas  cor.r.ut. 
Njn  :  :wn  :    dans  leurs  discoujs   ils  sont 

plus  rctenusy 
Ti  It  .'!'■  prccauthn  affaihfit  votre  regne  ; 
lis  cyotrontfCn  effetfVienttr,qu^on  les  craigne. 

We  see  here  the  most  perfidious 
of  all  siij^'^estions,  and  the  most 
effectual  with  bad  pi  iriccs  ;  it  is,  to 
ipritate  in  them  the  pride  of  power. 
Who  can  tell  how  many  limes  ad- 
ulation has  repealed  in  oilier  terms 
what  is  here  said  by  Narcisr.us. 
Nothing  more  remains  for  iam, 
but  to  iranquirize  Nero,  concern- 
ing the  opinions  and  diucourses  of 
the  Romans. 

Narcissus.— They  hay?  long;  been  sub- 
jected an<l  reconciled  to  tlie  yoke  ; 

They  adore  the  hand  that  holds  tliem 
in  chains. 

You  will  find  them  always  ardent  to 
please  you  : 

Tiberius  was  even  fitigued  and  disgust- 
ed at  their  prompt  servitude. 

I  myself,  clothed  only  witli  a  borrowed 
'  power, 

"Which  I  received  from  Claudius  with, 
my  liberty, 

Have  :i  tliousand  times,  in  the  coufse 
of  my  past  glop 


Tempted  tlieir  patience,  bat  ncTerharv 

exliuusttd  iu 
You  dread  the  turp'tude  of  a  poisonir.;:  * 
You  may  cause  the   brother  to  perisli, 

antl  abandon  tlie  sister  : 
Rome,  prodigal  of  her  \ictlms  on  th« 

Even  vrci'c  t!i'?y  innocent,  would  im- 
pute to  tl.cm  crimes. 

You  vriU  see  them  mcvrk  in  their  kalen- 
dcr  for  unfortunate  days. 

Those,  on  wliich  both  the  sister  and 
brother  were  bom. 

Au  joug,  dcpuis  long  temps,  ils  se  stmt  fa- 

^onKes  s 
lis  adorent  la  main  qut  les  titnt  enchairf:. 
Vous  les  rerrez  toujours   ardens  k  x^us 

coinplatre  ; 
Leur  prompt  servitude  a  fatigue  Tibere. 
M^ji-vieme,  revku  d'un  pouvoir  emprunts 
^leje  reus  de  Claude  aiec  la  liberty, 
^  at  cent  fis,  dans  le  cows  de  ma  glohr 

passeCi 
Tertt'e  leur patience y  et  tie Tai point  lasste. 
jyun  empoi^iOJintTnent  vour  craigr.ez  /* 

noirceur  ? 
Rome,  sur  les  autds  prodiguant  Us  wc- 

tiincs, 
Fussent-ils    innocefis,  lew    trouvera  des 

crimes. 
Vous  \errez  mettre  au  rang  des  jows  iV 

fortunes^ 
Ceux  titjadis  la  saw  et  lefrere  sont  nes. 

This  actually  happened  after  the 
murder  of  Agrippina,  and  the 
abjection  of  the  Romans  is  here 
painted  witli  the  nervous  fidelity 
of  the  pencil  of  Tacitus.  Nero, 
delivered,  not  indeed  from  his 
scruples  but  his  fears,  defends  him- 
self no  longer  but  very  feebly. 

Narcissus,  once  more,  I  caimot  undeT- 

tiikL-  it. 
I  have  promised  Burrhus  ;  I  could  not 

but  yield  to  him. 
I  will  not  yet,  by  forfeiting-  my  word  t» 

iiiro, 
Give  to  his  virtue  arms  against  me. 
1  oppose  to  his  arguments  a  useless 

resolution  ; 
I  cannot  hear  lum  with  a  tranquil  heart. 

NarcissCf  encoreun  cossp,  je  ne  puis  /'«•• 

trependre. 
yai  promts  k  Bwrhus,  il  a  faUu  nu 

rendre. 
Je  ne  veux  point  encore,  en  Itu  mwuptaiti 

defoi, 
Donner  a  sa  virtu  des  orme*  c^ntrt  moi. 


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KACINB'8   BRITANNICU«. 


515 


y*oppote  h  *e*  raisoru  un  courage  inutile^ 
ytne  r  ecoute  point  avec  uti  caur  tran- 
quille. 

There  remains  therefore  noth- 
ing to  destroy,  but  a  remnapt  of 
regard  for  Burrhus,  expressed  in 
such  a  manner,  as  to  shew  that  the 
counsels  of  a  virtuous  governour 
press  strangely  upon  Nero,  al- 
though impatient  to  throw  ofl'  ev- 
ery kind  of  restraint.  This  is  the 
critical  moment  to  strike  the  last 
blow,  and  Narcissus  employs  the 
weapon,  so  familiar  to  the  profli- 
gate, calumny.  He  attributes  to 
Burrhus,  to  Seneca,  and  to  all  those, 
who  exerted  themselves  still  to 
restrain  the  vices  of  Nero,  speeches 
the  most  ^uslve  and  the  most  bit- 
ter. This  artifice  of  flatterers 
scarcely  ever  fails  of  its  effect. 
They  put  into  the  mouth  of  the 
man  they  would  destroy,  all  the 
contempt,  which  they  feel  at  the 
bottom  of  their  own  hearts  for  the 
master,  whom  they  would  deceive. 

Narcissus. — ^Burrhus,  my  Lord,think§ 

not  always  as  be  suys  ; 
His  virtue  has  address  enough  to  prc- 

scn'c  his  credit ; 
Or  ra*hcr,  they  have  all  but  one  mind. 
They  would  see,  by  this  stroke,  their 

power  reduced  ; 
Then,  my  lord,  you  will  be  free  ;   and 

before  yoi^ 
These,  your  proud  masters,  >dll  bend 

like  one  of  us. 
What  ?  can  you  be  uninformed  of  what 

they  dane  to  say  of  you  \ 
•*  Nero,  if  they  are  to  be  believed,  was 

not  bom  for  empire  ; 
"  He  neitlicr  says,  nor  does  any  thing, 

but  what  they  prescribe  to  him  : 
♦*  Burrhus  manages  his  heart,   Seneca 

his  understanding. 
^<  AU  his  ambition,  all  his  singular  virtue, 
"  Is  to  exult  in  conducting  a  chariot  in 

a  race  ; 
**  In  contending  for  prizes,  unworthy  of 

his  hands  ; 
^  In  offering  himself  as  a  spectacle  to 

the  Romans ; 
*•  In  exerting  his  voice  upon  the  theatre ; 
**  In  singing  of  song^,  which  he  would 

have  adored ; 
**  While  soldiers,  from  one  moment  to 

aaother. 


«*  Are  employed  to  excite  appkuscs  for 

liim." 
Ah  !    will  you  not  oblige  these  gentry 

to  be  more  discreet  ? 
Burrhit*  ne  pcnte  pat^  Seigneur ,   tout  ee 

tfu'il  dit  f 
Son  adroite  vertu  menage  ton  creJit  ; 
Ouplutot  iU  iCont  tons  qu^une  mcmcpeiiM; 
lis  verraient,  par  ce  coup,  leur  puissance 

abaissce  ; 
Vous  seriez  fibre  alort,  seigneur  ,•  et  devaUt 

VOUSf 

Ces  maitres  orgueilieuxjlechiraient  comme 

nous, 
^loi  done  ?    ignorez  vous  tout  ce  qu*iU 

csent  dire  ? 
•*  NerOf  a* lis  en  sont  crus,  n^est  point  r.i 

pour  r empire, 
"  //  ne  dit,   il  ne  fait  que  ce  qu*on  lui 

preserit  ; 
"  Burrhus  conduit  son  caur,  Seneque  son 

esprit. 
**  Pour  tcute  ambition,  pour  virtu  singu* 

Here, 
•*  //  excelle  #  conduire  un  char  dans  la 

carriere  t 
"  A  disputer  desprix  indignes  de scs  mains j 
**  A  se  donner  luimrnie  en  spectacle  aux 

Bomains  y 
**  A  venir  prodiguer  sa  voix  sur  un  theatre  / 
^*  A  reciter  dies  chants  qu*il  vent  qu*on 

idolatre  ,• 
**  Tandis  que  des  soldats,  de  momens  en 

momens, 
•*  Vont  arracher  pour  lui  des  applaudisse- 

rnt^ns.'^ 
Ah  /  tie  voulez  vous  pas,  Ics  forcer  a  se 

taire  ? 
It  is  impossible  that  Nero  shoulil 
resist  this  infernal  address.     Every 
word  is  an  arrow,  that  pierces  him  : 
He  is  taken  at  once  by  all  his  weak- 
nesses :  he  must  surrender. 
Nero. — Come,  Narcissus,  let  us  con- 
sider what  we  ought  to  do. 
Viens,  Narcisst,  allom  voir  ce  que  nous 
devons  faire. 

He  says  not,  positively,  what  course 
he  will  pursue  ;  but  wc  see  that 
his  resolution  is  already  taken. 

This  scene  is  perhaps  the  great- 
est lesson,  that  the  dramatSck  art 
ever  gave  to  sovereigns.  It  is  as- 
serted, that  the  part,  whicJi  relates 
to  spectacles,  made  such  an  im» 
pression  on  Louis  the  Fourteenth, 
as  to  correct  him  in  a  habit  he  had 
indul^  in  his  youthi  of  acting  oi| 


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516 


HACIKE's   BHITAMHICVl. 


the  stage,  in  the  feasts  of  the  court. 
This  was  an  affair  of  small  impor- 
tance ;  but  this  scene,  well  con- 
sidered, may  afford  much  greater 
lessons  ;  and  for  that  which  re- 
lates to  the  politicks  of  courts,  of 
which  Comeille  so  often  treats, 
and  which  Fontenelle,  and  so  many 

others,  pretend  to  be  so  superior* 
ly  treated  in   Otho,  I   tliink  it  is 

'  here  we  are  to  look  for  it ;  that 
there  are  only  a  few  general  strokes 
in  the  small  number  of  verses, 
which  are  remembered  of  Otho,  a 
piece  moreover,  which  is  now  so 
little  read ;  but  that  the  whole  pic- 
ture is  to  be  found  in  the  parts  of 
Agrippina,  of  Burrhuf,  and  of 
Narcissus. 

I  shall  not  speak  of  the  beautiful 
recital  of  the  death  of  Britanni- 
cus,  but  to  observe,  it  is  the  only 
place,  in  which  Racine,  equal  to 
Tacitus  in  all  the  rest,  and  we  can 
say  nothing  greater  in  its  favour, 
appears  to  have  fallen  below  him. 

.  The  design  was  to  paint  the  dif- 
ferent impressions  made  upon  the 
courtiers,  at  the  moment  when 
Pritannicus  expires  under  the  op- 
eration of  poison. 

One  half  of  them  rush  out  with  shrieks  j 
But  those,  who  have  been  longer  ha- 

bituuled  to  the  coiul, 
Compose  their  countenances  by  the  eyes 

of  Caesar. 

Perhaps  we  should  not  desire  more, 
if  we  were  not  acquainted  with  the 
^xt  of  Tacitus.  At,  quibus  altior 
intellectus,  resistunt  defici,  et  Cac- 
sarem  intuentes.  But  those  who 
saw  further,  remain  unmoved^ 
with  their  eyes  fixed  on  Casar. 

Nothing  is  more  striking  than 
this  absolute  immobility,  in  an  e- 
vent  of  this  nature.  To  remain 
master  of  onefs  self,  at  a  similar 
spectacle,  to  such  a  degree  as  to 
have  no  motion  whatever,  before 
Wmerving  the  motions  of  the  maa; 


ter,  is  the  last  effort  of  the  habit  of 
servility,  and  the  true  sublime  of 
the  spirit  of  a  courtier.  It  is  thus 
that  Tacitus  paints  ;  but  Racine, 
in  a  moment  after,  equals  him 
again  in  those  verses,  which  he  owes 
not  to  imitation. 

His  crime  alone  is  not  the  cause  of  my 

despair  ; 
His  jealousy  has  been  able  to  arm  him 

against  his  brother. 
But,  madam,  if  I  must  explain  my  grie^ 
Nero  saw  him  expire,  without  changing 

his  countenance  or  colour. 
His  unfeeling  eyes  have  already  the 

steadiness 
Of  a  tyrant,  hardened  in  crimes  from 

his  infancy. 

^071  crime  seul  n*cit  pa*  ce  qui  tru  dUu- 

pere  t 
Sa  jalousie  a  pu  farmer  contre  *en  /rere. 
Maity  **il  vtnu  faut,  Madame^  escpHquer 

ma  doulenr, 
Nero  /'fl  vu  m.ourir  sans  changer  de  coulev. 
Sesyeux  indiffereru  on  dejk  la  Constance 
D*un  praut  dans  le  crime  endurci  dis  Pen' 

Jance. 

What  nervous  expressions !  Such, 
in  a  hundred  places,  is  the  style  of 
this  rnan,  to  whom  they  would  al- 
low any  thing,  but  the  talent  of 
painting  love. 

One  of  the  characters  of  genius, 
and  especially  of  dramatick  genius, 
is  to  pass  from  one  subject  to  an- 
other without  being  at  a  loss,  and 
to  be  always  the  same^' without  re- 
sembling itself.  We  have  seen 
what  an  astonishing  progress  Ra- 
cine had  made,  when,  notwith- 
standing the  success  of  Alexander^ 
returning  by  his  own  energy  to 
nature  and  himself,  he  fixed  at  the 
age  of  twenty-seven  an  epochs, 
as  glorious  to  France  as  himself, 
by  offering  in  Andromache  a  new 
species  of  tragedy. 

It  might  have  been  then  said. 
What  a  distance  between  Alexan- 
der and  Andromache  !  It  might 
have  been  said  afterwards,  What  a 
difference    between  Andromache 


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RACXKlb's  BRITANKICUS. 


$17 


and  Britannicus  !     We  pass  into  a 
new  world,  and  fable  and  history 
are  not  more  remote  from  each 
other,  than  these  two  pieces.     But 
how,  among  beauties  of  so  severe 
a  kind,  has  he  been  able  to  place 
the  ingenuous  and  innocent  teur 
demess  of  two  young  lovers,  such 
as  Britannicus  and  Junia,  and  pre? 
serve  himself  from  those  inequal- 
ities, which  have  so  often  wounded 
us  in  Comeille  ?    It  is  because  the 
Bite  of  these  two  lovers,  which  in- 
crests  us,  depends  constantly    on 
those   imposing  personages,  who 
move    around  them;    and   it  is, 
above  all,  by  the  art  of  interming- 
ling shades,  and  by  the  insensible 
gradation  of  colour.     Junia  is  only 
tender  with  Britannicus ;  but  when 
she  appears  before  Nero,  who  of- 
fers her  the  empire^  she  is  not 
only  a  fiiilhful  lover,  but  she  be- 
comes noble.     She  refuses  the  of- 
fers of  Nero  and  the  throne  of  the 
world  without  aJTectation,  witliout 
an  effort,  and  with  an  affecting  mo- 
desty.    She  does  not  brave  Nero, 
as  most  other  writers  would  not 
failed  to  have  made  her ;  she  shews 
no  pride  in  her  refusal  ;    she  ex- 
presses lierself  in  a  manner  to  gain 
the  esteem  of  Nero,  if  Nero  could 
esteem  virtue,  and  to  move  him  in 
iavour  of  Britannicus,  if  he  had 
been  susceptible  of  any  honest  and 
laudable   sentiment.      He  exhorts 
her  to  come  over  to  the  empire,  to 
forget  Britannicus,  disinherited  by 
Claudius.     She  answers, 
r— "He  huB  commAnded  my  affections. 
My  lord,  and  I  have  not  preten4ed  to 

conceal  them. 
This  sincerity  no  doubt  is  not  very  dis- 
creet ; 
But  my  mouth  is  always  the  interpreter 

of  ijiy  heart. 
Absent  from  court,  I  have  not  thought 

it  necessary, 
My  lord,  to  exercise  myself  in  the  art 

of  dissimulation. 
I  love  Britannicus  ;  I  was  destined  for 
inm. 


When  the  empire  was  to  haveaccomt 
paiiied  my  marriagt;. 

But  those  very  misfortunes,  which  have 
deprived  him  of  it. 

His  abolished  honours,    his  deserted 
palace. 

The  train  of  a  court,  which  his  fall  has 
banished. 

Are  so  many  ties,  which  constrain  Junia. 

Every  thing  you  see  conspires  to  grati- 
fy your  desires  ; 

Your  dHys,  always  bright,  pass  away  in 
pleasures  ; 

The  empire  is  for  you  an  inexhaustible 
source. 

Where,  if  any  chagrin  interrupts  the 
course  of  them. 

The  whole  world,  solicitous  to  enter- 
tain you. 

Is  eager  to  divert  your  attention  and 
memory  from  it. 

Britannicus  is  alone  ;  whatever  anxiety 
distresses  him. 

He  sees  no  one  but  me, who  is  interest- 
ed in  his  lot. 

And  has  for  his  only  consolation  those 
tears. 

Which    sometimes  are    sufficient,    to 
make  him  forget  liis  misfortunes,' 

II  a  su  me  toucher, 
Sei^eur,  etje  rCai  pas  preUndu  m*en  CU" 

Cher, 
Ceite  tinceritif  tans  doute,  est  pen  discret ; 
Jifais  toujours  de  tiion  caur  ma  bouche  ett 

I'interprete. 
Absente  de  la  cour,je  n^ at  pas  du  penser. 
Seigneur,  q\^en  Cart  de  Jeindre  iifallut 

nCexercer. 
yaime  Britannicus  ;  je  luifus  destitJc, 
^uand  C empire  de^ait  suivre  son  A  wxnce. 
Mais  ces  msine  m^heurs   qui  Ven  oxt 

ecartcy 
Ses  honneurs  abolisf  son  palais  desert f. 
La  suite  d'wie  cour  que  sa  chute  a  bannie, 
Sont  autant  de  liens  qui  rctiennent  yunie. 
Tout  ce  que  vous  voyez^conspire  a  vos  de&irs, 
Vos  jours  toujours  sereins  coulent  dans  /c'« 

piaisirs  s 
V empire  est  pour  vous  Pinepuisable  source, 
Ou,  si  quelque  chagrin  en  interrom.pt  la 

course^ 
Tout  l*unfvers,  soigneux  de  les  entretenir, 
S'empresse  a  Veffacer  de  votre  souvenir. 
Britannicus  est  seul  ;  quelque  ennui  qui  le 

presse, 
II  ne  voit  a  son  sort  que  m^i,qui  s*interease, 
Et  n* a  pour  tout  plaisir,    seigneur,  que 

quelques  pleurs 
^i  luijont  quelque  Jois  oublier  ses  maly 

beurs. 


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5ia 


THB   REMARKES. 


This  firm  and  decent  language, 
this  generous  disinterestedness, 
tliese  tears,  whiph  console  an  un- 
fortunate prince  for  the  throne  he 
has  lost,  elevate  tiie  love  of  Junia 
to  the  dignity  of  ti-agedy.  She  is 
not  humiliated  before  the  master  of 
the  world.  This  is  not  talking  of 
love  for  the  sake  of  speaking  of  it  ; 
4t  is  love,  such  as  we  feel  it  natu- 
rally mingled  with  great  interests, 
and  explaining  itself  in  a  tone  con<- 
formabletothem.  Such  is  the  merit 
of  characterjsticks,  proper  to  the 
subject.  This  love  does  not  move 
forcibly,  like  that  of  Hermione  ; 
but  it  pleases,  it  attaches,  it  inter- 
ests ;  and  this  is  enough  in  a  work 
that  produces  other  effects.  The 
essential  thing  was,  that  it  should 
pot  appear  misplaced. 

Britannicus,  surprised  by  Nero 
at  the  feet  of  hi*  mistress,  offers, 
in  truth,  a  situation  which  might 
belong  to  comedy,  as  well  »s  to 
trage'iy*     But  the  danger  of  Brit- 


annicus, and  the  Jtnpwn  character 
of  Nero,  exalt  this  situation  ;  and 
the  scene  which  results  from  It, 
between  the  two  rivals,  is  a  model 
of  dramatick  contrasts,  in  which 
two  opposite  characters  meet  in 
collision  wfth  violence,  with  one 
being  crushed  by  the  other.  The 
dialogue  is  perfect  ;  we  there  sec 
with  pleasm^e  the  free  and  digni- 
fied vivacity  of  a  young  prince  and 
preferred  lover,  contend  against 
the  ascendancy  of  supreme  rank, 
and  the  ferocious  pride  of  a  jeal- 
ous tyrant.  The  character  of  Brit- 
annicus, and  the  advantage  oi 
pleasing  Junia,  maintains  him  in  a 
state  of  equality  before  the  empc- 
rour,  and  the  spectator  is  always 
pleased  to  see  unjust  power  hu- 
miliated. It  is  thus,  in  this  piece, 
that  the  interests  of  policy  and  of 
love  are  balanced,  without  injure- 
to  each  other,  and  tliat  colours  so 
different  are  tempered,  without  ap- 
pearing to  obscure  each  other. 


For  the  Anthology. 

THE    REMARKER,  Ab.  U. 

pLUTAaCH. 


IF  that  precept  of  ancient  wis- 
dom, which  directs  us  to  respect 
ourselves,  were  properly  attended 
lo,  it  would  have  almost  as  happy 
an  influence  upon  our  manners,  as 
xipon  morals.  Many  of  those, 
whom  we  every  day  meet  with, 
seem  to  be  so  ashamed  of  their 
own  charactei's,(though  sometimes 
perhaps  the  sharae  may  be  a  false 
one,)  as  to  be  willing  to  assume  al- 
most any  mode  of  behaviour  rather 
than  that,  which  would  be  sincere 
and  natural.  I  refer  to  all  those 
classes  of  men  called  wits,  odd  fel- 
lows, poor  creatures,  and  by  other 
jdmilar  names,  for  one  common 
disposition  runs  through  them  all. 


Not  indeed  affectation,  though  they 
assume  felse  appearances,  for  af- 
fectation colours  her  cheeks  and 
blackens  her  eye-brows,  and  would 
have  it  pass  for  nature ;  but  the  dis- 
position, of  which  I  am  speaking, 
intends  not  deception  but  conceal- 
ment, and  will  be  satisfied  with  any 
mask  however  ugly,  provided  that 
it  will  only  hide  the  real  features 
of  character. 

For  myself,  I  am  convinced,  that 
all  the  buffoonery  and  incivility, 
which  these  men  commit,  is  not 
from  any  preconcerted  plan  to  be 
disagreeable,  but  merely  because 
they  are  afraid  to  act  naturally, 
and  to  try  to  behave  like  gentle^ 


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TKK  RSMARKKR. 


S^^ 


Jwen.  They  believe,  that  they  shall 
fail,  and  therefore  will  not  make 
the  attempt  ;  and  indeed  most  of 
us,  when  we  do  not  do  what  we 
ought,  had  much  rather  have  it 
laid  to  the  charge  of  our  disincli- 
nation, than  of  our  inability.    They 
cannot  make  a  handsome  bow,  and 
therefore  walk  into  a  room  with 
their  hats  on  their  heads  ;  they  are 
not   able  to    turn  a  compliment 
prettily,  and  so  exercise  themselves 
in  saying  rude  things  ;  they  have 
no  talents  to  sit  still  in  company 
"with  composed  faces,  and  on  that 
account  take  the  firet  opiK>rtunity 
to   distort   their  features  with  a 
Iau;^h  ;  they  cannot  help  forwaixi 
conversation,  and  arc  therefore  on 
the  watch  to  throw  obstructions 
into   its  way,  such  as  cavils,  and 
silly  speeches,  and  puns.      As  to 
disposition,   indeed,  these   people 
arc  very  different.     Some  of  them, 
notwithstanding    their    incivility, 
have  a  great  deal  of  broad  good 
nature,  so  that,  as  Beatrice  says  of 
Benedict,  "  men  laugh  at  them  and 
beat    them."      Others  snap,  and 
throw   out  sparks  of  fire  at  every 
touch,   so  that  it  is  quite  unsafe  to 
come  near  them  carelessly.     The 
first  kind  is  sometimes  amusing  to 
persons,  who  have  the  taste  of  the 
times  when  jesters  were  kept  for 
the    king's  use,  and  who  conse- 
quently relish  the  ridiculous,  more 
than    they  feel  the  disgusting— i 
These,  therefore,  though  they  are 
never  welcomed  with  a  smile,  are 
sometimes  received  with  a  laugh, 
but  are  commonly  dismissed  with 
but  a  cold  invitation  to  come  again  ; 
for  those,  who  make  us  smile,  not 
those  who  make  us  laugh,  are  the 
persons  whom  we  wish  to  see  often. 
The  minds  of  these  people,  how- 
ever, are  affected  in  different  de- 
g^rees.      Some  of  them  have  lucid 
intervals  of  long  continuance,  when 
they  talk  and  behave  very  much 


as  they  ought.  Even  as  to  these, 
however,  there  is  most  commonly 
in  their  countenance  or  manner* 
something,  which  might  betray  to 
an  observer  that  their  understand- 
ings were  not  perfectly  sound. 
Others  discover  themselves  by  a 
neglect  of  usual  civilities,  an  as- 
sumed ignorance  of  common  cus- 
toms, an  affected  absence  when  in 
company,  and  by  other  similar 
symptoms.  Mad  poets  are  com- 
monly in  the  last  stage  of  tlie  dis- 
ease, as  was  observable  in  the  time 
of  Horace,  who  describes  them  (de 
Arte  Poet.  1.  -455  ct  seq.)  as  being 
avoided  by  decent  people,  vesanum 
tetigisse  timetity  Sec.  troubled  by 
boys,  agitant  fiueriy  followed  after 
by  imprudent  persons  incnutique 
sequuntur  ;  and  having  a  propen- 
sity to  do  strange  things,  such  as 
walking  into  ditches,  perhaps  from 
the  love  of  singularity.  Qui  sets  an 
firudcnshuc  se firojecerit  ?  all  which 
diagnoBtieks  are  for  the  most  part 
to  be  remarked  at  the  present  day. 

I  confess,  I  cannot  help  having 
a  regard  for  the  ruins  of  human 
nature  and  the  fragments  of  valu- 
able qualities,  which  are  sometimes 
to  be  discovered  in  these  unhappy 
persons.  I  view  them  with  the 
same  species  of  compassion,  that 
Ulysses  looked  upon  his  compan- 
ions in  the  cave  of  Circe.  Under 
their  unpleasant  and  bristly  exteri- 
our  I  discover  something,  which  I 
wish  restored  to  its  original  dig- 
nity, and  clothed  in  the  form, 
which  nature  intended.  That 
there  is  a  charm,  by  which  this  may 
be  done,  that  there  are,  as  Horace 
(whom  I  love  to  quote)  says  ver- 
ba et  voeesy  quibus  lenire  dolorem^ 
I  for  my  part  do  not  doubt.  Every 
one  has  abilities  to  be  inoffensive, 
and  to  be  inoffensive,  is  all  that 
need  at  first  be  required  of  them. 

To  treat  others  as  we  ought 
however  it  is  necessary,  to  believe 


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Bto 


tkR  REMARKfcft. 


Well  of  one's  self.  If  we  do  not 
put  some  value  on  our  politeness 
and  on  our  good  will  and  respect, 
we  shall  not  think  it  worth  while 
to  exercise  the  former  and  disco- 
ver the  latter.  There  ai*e  many, 
who  become  impudent  through 
Want  of  confidence,  and  ridiculous 
from  the  dread  of  being  laughed 
Ht.  Without  proper  assurance,  a 
man  may  be  impertinent  or  he 
may  be  bashful,  but  is  never  ipo- 
dest.  It  may  depend  on  chance, 
whether  he  will  be  one  of  those, 
whom  we  have  been  describing, 
who  never  blush  only,  as  Shake- 
speare says,  «  extempore,"  or  one, 
whose  cheeks  shall  burn  and  lips 
shall  quiver,  whenever  he  may  at- 
tempt to  speak  ;  whether  he  will 
be  a  j^erson  to  pour  forth  words 
with  the  most  hard-hearted  loqua- 
city, or  one  who  shall  have  cour- 
age to  utter  only  monosyllables, 
and  all  whose  intellectual  wealth, 
like  the  n»oney  we  read  of  in  the 
Arabian  Nights*  Entertainments, 
shall  vanish  away,  or  turn  into 
leaves  and  stones  in  the  very  mo- 
ment of  use. 

There  are  certain  classes  of  men, 
who  are  particularly  liable  to  bash- 
fulness  ;  but  these,  though  they 
are  ignorant  and  timid  subjects  of 
custom,  and  sometimes  suffer  from 
incurring  her  penalties,  must  not 
rebel  against  her  laws.  Men  of 
genius,  who  come  into  company  to 
observe  every  thing  and  to  feel  every 
thing,  are  troubled  by  a  thousand 
trifles,  which  the  rest  of  the  world 
do  not  notice.  Persons  of  retire- 
ment too,  observe  and  feel  in  the 
same  manner,  not  so  much  that  it  is 
the  habit  of  their  minds,  as  because 
every  thing  which  presents  itself  is 
new  and  strange.  Men  of  profound 
study  and  deep  research  often  suffer 
vexation  from  their  ignorance  of 
that,which  a  child  could  have  taught 
them  ;  and  the  scholar,  who  loves 
to  sit  alone  by  the  light  of  a  mid- 


night lamp,  when  he  ventures  In* 
to  the  noise  and  glare  of  an  assem- 
bly, is  confused  and  dazzled  and 
bewildered  and  glad  to  get  back 
with  as  little  notice  as  possible. 
But  none  of  these  people  should 
distrust  their  abilities  for  the  com- 
mon intercourse  of  life ;  thef 
should  remember,  what  every  one 
knows,that  to  be  agreeable  to  others 
little  more  is  required  than  good 
sense  and  good  nature,  and  that  if 
they  will  learn  desifiere  in  loco,  to 
smile  and  to  be  cheerful,  they  maf 
in  a  little  time  acquire  the  art  of 
pleasing.  Those  to  whom  wc 
look  up,  as  far  above  us  in  the  fa- 
culties of  the  mind,  have  this  more 
especially  in  their  power ;  it  is  then 
little  else  than  the  art  of  conde- 
scension ;  and  we  are  charroed  by 
their  becoming  our  play-fellows, 
even  though  they  should  raakct 
thousand  mistakes  in  the  game. 

When  the  light  bands  of  deco- 
rum are  irritating,  it  is  an  easy 
thing  to  cast  them  off ;  but  it  is 
not  so  easy  to  assume  them  ag«n 
at  pleasure.  Manners,  not  deco- 
rous nor  convenient  to  our  charac- 
ter, by  being  frequently  assumed 
may  become  habitual,  though  not 
natural.  We  may  trifle  ourselv^ 
into  habits  of  serious  inconveni- 
ence, as  children  by  aping  in  sport 
the  bad  tricks  of  their  schoolfel- 
lows, at  last  come  to  suffer  from 
them  as  their  own.  Wkat  at  first 
was  only  pettishness,  which  it 
seemed  might  at  any  time  be  laid 
aside,  will  ripen  perhaps  into  real 
illnature  ;  impertinence  may  har- 
den into  brutality  ;  and  trifling  be- 
haviour sink  into  confirmed  inam- 
ty.  Indeed,  I  believe,  that  inosl 
of  our  bad  habits,  even  inchiding 
vices,  are  taken  upon  us  unawwts, 
and  that  we  seldom  believe  our- 
selves under  their  dominion,  till  it 
has  a  long  time  been  apparent  to 
others. 
Let  no  man  think  it  of  light 


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LIVE  or   BftNTLSY. 


JfSl 


cdnsequence,  what  may  be  his 
manners,  for  by  our  manners 
alone  have  the  greater  part  of  us 
.  any  power  to  add  to  the  happiness, 
or  to  substract  from  the  misery  of 
others.  To  diffuse  general  in- 
struction or  delight ;  to  eradicate 
tke  diseases,  which  prey  upon  our 
bodies,  or  to  loosen  the  vices, which 
corrupt  our  nunds  ;  to  take  much 


in  any  way  from  the  load  of  wretch- 
edness, which  presses  upon  human 
life,  is  the  privilege  of  but  very 
few.  Even  opportunities  for  the 
more  weighty  active  virtues  are  but 
seldom  in  our  power,  but  we  may 
be  cheerful,  though  we  cannot  be 
charitable,  and  mild,  though  we 
have  no  opportunity  to  be  mer- 
ciful. 


BIOGRAPHY. 

LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BENTLEY,  D.  D. 

[Continaed  from  page  4s 70 

TtuimrMTM  fut  *m  x^ttrm,  ret  xtp  mf  ^xmt  «y«^*. 

r-  r-  \  *  ^        PLATO,  dc  Leglb. 


IN  the  following  year  Thirlby 
published  an  edition  of  Justin  Mar- 
tyr's two  apologies,  and  of  his  fa- 
Tnous  dialogue  with  Tripho,  which 
he  dedicated  to  Lord  Craven.  Of 
the  scholars  who  flourished  in  that 
age  Thirlby  was  inferiour  to  few^n 
point  of  taste  and  learning. 

The  dedication  is  a  wonderful 
composition.  In  this  species  of 
writing  he  is  haudulH  aecundua  ! — 
second  to  none ;  and  few  are  there 
who  can  claim  an  eqtuU  rank.  In 
the  same  class  may  be  reckoned 
Barton's  preface  to  Plutarch's  par- 
allel Lives  of  Demosthenes  and 
Cicero.  Such  discernment,  such 
&ncy,  such  solid  judgment  and 
deep  erudition  have  i*arely  been 
seen,  nor  would  it  be  easy  to  point 
out  a  third,  who  might  complete  a 
-triumvirate. 

In  Thirlby's  preface  we  have  fre- 
quently been  pleased  with  a  sullen 
truth,which  he  tells,  when  he  men- 
dons  his  having  found  several  con- 
jectures in  the  notes  which  Davis 
communicated  to  him,  similar  to 
those  which  he  had  before  inserted 
in  his  own  observations :  ^'  Do  not 
f  imagine  I  shall  praise  that  which 
is  in  a  great  measure  my  own,  or 
tjiat  I  shall  adopt  the  cwtom  of 

VoL  UI.  No.  1%       jf& 


nr. 

criticks,and  tell  you,  that  I  was  re- 
joiced to  find  my  conjectures  con^* 
firmed  by  the  authority  of  so  great 
a  man.  Believe  me,  such  a  con- 
currence never  gave  real  pleasure. 
No  author  ever  wishes  that  the 
praises,  however  trifling  they  may 
be,  which  are  due  to  his  discove- 
ries, should  be  snatched  from  him, 
or  shared  by  another." 

The  notes  are  likewise  admira- 
ble. No  dull  comments,  no  daring 
assertions,  no  hazardous  conjec- 
tures, or  tasteless,  long-winded  re- 
marks upon  trifles.  He  was  a  first- 
rate  critick,and  he  entertains  by  his 
sprightliness,  while  he  surprise* 
by  his  learning  and  acumen.  He 
was  Bentley's  avowed  enemy,  and 
speaks  of  him  with  great  contempt 
in  some  of  his  notes. 

It  was  asserted,  that  Dr.  Ashton, 
the  Master  of  Jesus  College,  assist- 
ed Thirlby  in  this  edition,  although 
he  lived  in  habits  of  friendship 
with  Bentley,  and  was  one  of  the 
few  whom  he  honoured  with  his  re- 
gard. Such  treachery  and  cow- 
ardly conduct  would  deserve  no 
quarter  ;  but  on  the  other  hand  it 
had  been  said,  that  Ashton  was  so 
far  from  bestowing  any  of  his  notes 
on  thirlby,  that  be  publ^eda 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


^i2 


urc  or  tfSKTLt:^ 


criticism  on  hh  edition  in  one  9f 
the  foreign  journals.  Wc  hope 
the  latter  is  the  true  story. 

The  edition  was  mentioned  in  a 
poem,  which  was  published  about 
this  time,  and  was  intituled,  "  The 
Session  of  theCriticks."  After  dis- 
playing the  pretensions  of  Jortin 
and  others  the  author  adds  : 

••  From  his  garret,  where  kmglie  had 

rusted,  came  down 
Toiy  Thirlby^  cocksure  that  the  prize 

was  his  own. 
Crying,  «Z— d's  where's  this  Bentley  ? 

I'll  give  him  no  quarter  !* 
And  haul'd  out  the  preface  to  his  fam'd 
yuttin  Martyr." 

In  this  year  Wasse  published  a 
copy  ofGreekTrochaicks,  address- 
ed to  Bentley,  on  his  edition  of 
Horace.  These  were  inserted  in 
Jebb*s  Bibliotheca  Literaria^  and 
were  followed  by  a  long  and,  in- 
deed, tedious  Latin  elegy,  address- 
ed likewise  to  our  critick,  and  on 
the  same  subject.  In  all  probabili- 
ty, Bentley  was  not  much  flattered 
by  these  compositions.  In  the 
Greek  the  laws  of  Prosedy  and  of 
the  Trochaick  measure  are  fre- 
quently violated.  Wasse,  howe- 
ver was  a  good  scholar,  but  posses- 
sed more  learning  than  taste,  and 
more  reading,  perhaps,  than  judg- 
ment. His  acquaintance  with 
books  was  very  extensive,  and  his 
memory  must  have  been  uncom- 
monly tenacious,  for  Jortin  affirm- 
ed as  we  have  been  told,  that  he 
njBver  knew  any  man  who  could 
cite  authorities  for  words  and 
phrases  from  the  Greek  and  Latin 
writers  with  so  much  promptitude 
Mjid  accuracy  as  Wasse. 

As  the  editor  of  Sallust  and 
Thucydides,  Wasse  is  well  known 

•  Of  this  work,  whicli  is  scarce,  see 
some  account  in  Nichols's  Anecdotes 
of  the  Life  of  Bowyer.  To  tliis  enter- 
tjUningwork  we  are  indebted  for  the 
q«ot«tioftfrom  the  S«uk>nof  Crititte 


to  the  IHertry  woild.  He^des  bis 
notes  on  these  autiiors,  and  Hs 
papers,  in  the  Bibi.  Uteraria^  he 
wrote  little.  There  is,  however, 
in  the  Philosophical  Trammctioiift, 
an  account  of  an  earthquake  by 
him,  which  is  tittle  known.  His 
death  happened  wbOe  Taylor  was 
writing  his  Lectiones  Lyaiac«,  m 
which  he  has  inserted  a  short  ettl*- 
gium  of  this  great  scholar,  by 
which  it  appears  that  he  was  much 
valued  by  his  learned  contempora- 
ries. As  to  his  erudition,  no  doubts 
can  be  ascertained,  as  besides  his  la- 
bours as  a  commentator,  Bentley 
said,  as  it  is  reportedf^that  after  his 
own  death  Wasse  would  be  the 
most  learned  man  in  England. 

Dr.  Bentley,  as  far  as  we  hare 
heard,  took  no  fiubUck  notite  of 
Thirlby,  or  the  attack,  in  his  notes 
on  Justin  Martyr,  whatever  might 
have  been  his  private  sentunents. 
He  had  relinquished  all  tho«^ts 
of  publishing  the  Greek  Testament, 
but  yet  he  still  pursued  his  &vour- 
ite  pursuits)  and  spent  his  time  in 
preparing  an  edition  of  Terence. 

His  enemies  now  seemed  weary 
of  attacking  him,  and  he  enjoyed  a 
temporary  quiet,  free  from  their 
molestations.  About  this  period, 
however,  at  the  Cambridge  assizes, 
when  Bentley  was  summoned  into 
court,  as  a  Justice  of  Peace  lor  the 
county,  the  crier  styled  him  Rich- 
ard Bentley,  Doctor  in  Divinity. 
The  Vice-chancellor,  who  was 
present,  immediately  veprimended 
him,  and  said,  '^  liiere  is  no  9uch 
fierson  J'*  The  judge,  finding  that 
his  name  stood  in  the  roll,  vndtr 
that  description,  ordered  the  cokt 
to  repeat  the  call,  and  added,  that 
the  court  would  not  be  influenced 
by  academical  acts,  in  opposition  to 
a  commission  under  the  great  seal. 

At  the  puUick  commencementin 
the  year  1735,  on  July  the  6th,  Dr. 
•Bentley  delivered  publickly  aiui* 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


hl91^  01  BE9TLKT. 


sn 


lin  oratkAy  on  thA  creation  of  seven 
Doctors  of  Divinity.  In  this  speech 
there  is  a  iugh  panegyrick  on  the 
House  of  Hanover,  in  which  some 
of  the  compliments  are  elegant  and 
polished.  But  in  his  description  of 
the  ceremony,  the  explanations  of 
the  symbols  used  at  creation  are  fre- 
quently puerile.  The  Latinity  is 
admirable,  and  the  whole  abounds 
in  passages  of  uncommon  merit. 

In  1726,  appeared  a  new  edition 
of  Terence,  Phedrus,  and  the  Sen^ 
ientut  of  Publius  Syrus,  with  the 
iK>te8  and  corrections  of  Richard 
Bentley.  It  was  printed  at  Can> 
bridge,  and  in  the  Italic k  character, 
which  circumstance,  in  our  opin- 
ion, is  (ar  from  adding  to  the  value 
or  beauty  of  the  book.  It  contains 
the  entire  notes  of  Faemus,  who 
examined  the  most  ancient  manu- 
•cripts  of  Terence,  and  was  dedi- 
cated to  Prince  Frederick,  who  was 
€ifterwards  Prince  of  Wales. 

After  A  short  a4vet*tisement, 
which  merely  relates  the  contents 
of  the  volume,  follows  a  very  learn- 
ed dissertation  on  the  metres  of 
Terence,  in  wtuch  he  has  proved 
the  whqie  of , the  plays  to  have  been 
ii^iitten  Sn.  verse.  This  treatisei, 
which  has  Jjeen  justly  praised  by 
the  elegant  Harns,  in  lus  J^Mhlog- 
icitl  JAgmriea^  see^s  in  ^reat  mea- 
Aiire  W  have  lud  the  foundation  for 
the  canon,  or  rule,  wl^ch  Dawes  es- 
tablishes in  his  MUceJ/anea  Critica^ 
with  respect  to  the  syllables  in 
Creek  poetry,  which  are  to  be  .dis- 
tinguished by  an  ictua  or  beat.  At 
the  same  time,  he  affects  to  speak 
flUghtly  of  fientley^s  labours,  and 
«xalta  his  own.  iBut  we  must  pror 
<ceed,  as  we  cannot  at  present  aUow 
room  for  the  discussion  of  this  subi' 
ject ;  and  will  only  add,  that  t))e 
common  mode  of  reading  lambick 
verse  appears  tons  the  most  eligible. 

In  this  edition,  there  are  many 
^passa^  wliich  Bentley  tum  cor- 


rected with  a  happy  sagacity.  His 
notes  on  the  three  authors  are  short 
and  less  ostentatious,  and  his  em- 
endations less  violent,  than  those 
on  Horace.  Many  of  his  correc- 
tions of  Phedrus  have  received 
their  just  tribute  of  applause,  and 
been  admitted  into  the  the  text  by 
the  learned  Gabriel  Brotier,  in  his 
edition  of  this  writer,  whose  fables 
he  elegantly  styles,  Frimaa  juvcu' 
tutU  deUciaa^xtrema  aencctutta  sola" 
tioy  media  aiatis  oblectamenta. 
His  emendation  of  one  of  the 
verses  of  Publius  Syrus  we  wiH 
give  as  a  specimen  : 

"  jimissum  quod  netcitur,  non  amittitur.** 

The  copies  have  dinusaunij  which 
is  undoubtedly  wrong,  for  what  is 
bestowed  willingly,  or  taken  by 
force,  roust  be  known,  jtmiaatmi 
is  certainly  the  true  reading  :  as 
in  a  rich  house, 

"  Ubi  multa  supersunt, 
Et  dominutn  Jallunt,  et  prosuntjuribus.^ 

This  emendation  is  ingenious  and 
plausible.  The  same  sentiment 
occurs  in  Shakespeare's  Othello  : 

"  He  that  is  robb'd,  not  wanting  what 

is  stolen, 
"  Let  him  not  know  it,  and  he's  not 

robb'd  at  aH." 

Bentley  inserted  all  his  corrections 
in  the  text;  but  he  frequently 
trusts  too  much  to  conjecture.  In 
his  notes  he  defends  and  ixpbins 
tlie  new  readings.  Many  of  his 
^emendations  on  Terence  were 
found  in  the  manuscripts  of  this 
jauthor  by  Westcrhovius,  and  in- 
serted in  his  edition.  In  the  pre- 
frce,  however,  he  tells  us,  that  a 
dntick  would, indeed,  merit  the  title 
of  Magnus  Jjtollo^  who  sl.ould 
present  to  the  world  a  genuine  Te- 
rence, amid  such  a  variety  of  lect- 
ions, and  ^uch  confused  vevsihca^ 
tipn. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


su 


Litm  or  BsmrLiT. 


When  an  author  publishes  a 
book,  he  immediately  affords  his 
enemies  apportunity  of  avenging 
any  injuries  which  they  have  re- 
ceived. This  was  strongly  exem  - 
plified  after  the  appearance  of  Dr. 
Bentley's  Terence,  previous  to 
which  he  had  quarrelled  with  Dr. 
Hare,  his  former  friend,  adviser, 
and  panegyrist.  The  origin  of 
their  dispute  has  been  thus  related : 

After  Lord  Townshend  had  es- 
tablished the  professorship  for  mo- 
dem languages  and  history  in  both 
the  Universities,  and  appointed  the 
preachers,  from  their  younger  cler- 
gy at  Whitehall,  he  proposed  that 
a  pension  of  a  thousand  pounds  a 
year  should  be  given  toOr.Bentley, 
upon  condition  that  he  would  pub- 
lish some  editions  of  the  classicks, 
for  the  use  of  the  Royal  grand- 
childien.  No  time  was  to  be  stip- 
ulated, or  any  manner  prescrib- 
ed. The  whole  was  to  be  manag- 
ed as  the  Doctor  wished,  and  as 
his  leisure  permitted. 

Hare  was  chosen  to  settle  the 
business  between  Lord  Townshend 
and  Dr.  Bentley.  But  when  the 
matter  was  nearly  brought  to  a 
Conclusion,  the  envious  and  malig- 
nant suggestions  of  some  enemy, 
whom  Btntley  supposed  to  be 
Hare,  put  an  end  to  the  whole  ne- 
fociation. 

Instead  of  an  annual  establish- 
ment and  publications  9uo  arbitrioy 
the  negociator  now  brought  intel- 
ligence that  Lord  Townshend  pro- 
posed that  Dr.  Bentley  should  re- 
ceive a  certain  sum  for  every 
sheet.  He  immediately  rejected 
the  offer  with  disdain,  and  refused 
to  enter  into  any  engagement  with 
persons  who  distrusted  his  honour : 
"  I  wonder  Dr.  Hare,  ypu  should 
bring  me  such  a  proposal,who  have 
known  me  so  long  and  so  well. 
What  1  if  I  had  no  regard  to  their 
honour,  or  to  my  own,  would  there 


be  any  difficulty  in  filling  %heeH  f 
Tell  them  I  will  have  nothing  to 
do  with  them." 

Dr.  Bentley  never  afterwards 
placed  any  confidence  in  Hare,  as 
he  knew  him  to  be  the  sug^gester 
of  the  last  scheme.  He  chose 
dis8uere  andcUianiy  non  dUrvntfiere» 
When  Hare  published  lus  Te- 
rence, which  is  now  seldom  men- 
tioned, he  dedicated  it  to  Lord 
Townshend,  in  whose  fisivour  he 
undermined  Bentley  ;  and  gave 
some  remarks  on  the  metres  of 
his  author,  which  he  had  *ioien 
from  his  learned  friend  in  the 
course  of  conversation.  With 
these  assistances,  he  produced  his 
Terence,  which  the  Italick  charac- 
ter, and  the  multitude  of  accentual 
marks  render  very  disagreeable  to 
the  reader. 

When  Bentley  perceived,  that 
he  had  himself  armed  hb  adver- 
sary, by  that  spirit  of  communica- 
tion which  always  shewed  itself, 
when  he  perceived  taste  or  ge- 
nius, leaming,or  even  curiosity,  in 
any  inquirer,  he  determined  to 
bring  out  his  own  edition,  with  the 
utmost  expedition.  He  sent  over 
to  Holland  for  the  types  with  which 
the  book  was  printed,  and  allowed 
himself  only  a  week  to  digest 
the  notes  on  each  of  the  comedies. 
This  at  least  was  his  own  account. 
He  added  Phedrus  also  to  this  edi- 
tion, because  he  knew  that  Hare 
proposed  to  publish  that  author. 

Such  is  the  history  of  Bentley's 
Terence.  He  had  no  apprehen- 
sions about  success,  though  Hare 
had  attempted  to  anticipate  his 
plans  ;  but  his  antagonist  imme- 
diately gave  up  his  views,  as  to 
publishing  Phedrus.  The  cause 
of  this  quarrel  was  not  generally 
known  ;  but  the  effect  which  it 
produced  was  sufficiently  publick, 
for  in  the  year  after  Bentley's  Te- 
rence was  printed  appeared  an  £^ 


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SILVA. 


S%5 


pUtBlA  Critica^  which  contained  an 
examination  of  Bentley's  notes 
on  Phedrus>by  Hare,  whose  resent- 
ment was  greatly  heightened  by 
finding  his  name  was  not  once 
mentioned  by  the  Doctor,  in  his 
edition.  A  nirvey  of  the  Terence 
was  promised,  but  probably  witli- 
out  any  intention  of  performance. 
Dr.  SaJter  has  observed,  that  Hare 
had  too  high  and  too  just  an  opin- 


ion of  his  former  friend's  abilitiei 
and  learning  to  hazard  his  reputa- 
tion with  such  a  literary  disputant. 
For  with  regard  to  the  annotations 
on  these  authors,and  with  regard  to 
the  metrical  disquisitions,  Bentley 
appeared  even  with  greater  advan- 
tages in  the  contest,  than  the  learn- 
ed Bishop  of  London  did,  when  he 
attacked  -Hare's  arrangements  of 
the  Hebrew  measures. 
To  be  continued. 


For  the  Monthly  Anthology. 
SILVA. 
Fnitetis  et  arboribus  dilapsa  folia.— Pliv. 


M.  io. 


JOSEPH   FAWCETT. 

IT  is  my  common  practice,  af- 
ter returning  from  church  on  Sun- 
days, to  read  a  sermon  or  a  chap- 
ter in  the  bible.  To  render  the 
task  of  perusing  theological  lec- 
tures as  pleasant  as  may  be,  I  have 
recourse  to  variety.  If  I  want 
sermons  which  elucidate  the  scrip- 
tures, I  consult  Dr.  S.  Clarke.  If 
I  seek  an  exposure  of  ecclesiasti- 
cal abuses,  the  historick  and  lively 
Jortin  is  best  adapted  to  my  pur- 
pose. If  I  need  the  bitter  pill  of 
repentance,  and  wish  at  once  to  be 
disciplined  and  consoled,  I  open 
the  judicious  Doddridge  or  the  se- 
rapbick  Watts.  -  But  if  I  would 
feast  my  eyes  with  lessons  of  vir- 
tue in  their  enchanting  forms, 
decked  with  the  plumes  of  a  fine 
imagination,  and  soaring  aloft  in  an 
expan»ve  skj^  Fawcett  is  the  au- 
thor I  most  greedily  sei^ge'  and 
longest  retain.  I  am  not  certain, 
that  his  eloquence  is  exactly  prop- 
er to  the  pulpit^  nor  would  I 
choose  my  own  minister  should 
feed  me  habituaily  with  such  de- 
licious dishes.  Plain  roast-beef 
and  plumb-pudding  sei*mons  are 
probably  easiest  of  digestion,  yield 
^he  m^t  wholesome  nutriment) 


and  are  in  regular  succession  per- 
haps the  most  agreeable  to  the 
taste.  I  confess  however  that  I 
should  be  well  pleased  to  hear  oc- 
casionally this  preacher,  whose 
style  of  delivery,  a  gentleman  told 
me  the  otlierday,is  equally  splen- 
did as  that  of  his  writing. 

DESCRIPTION  OF   HELL. 

A  future  state  was  believed  and 
taught  among  the  Danes  and  Sax^ 
ons,  prior  to  the  introduction  of 
Christianity  into  the  isle  of  Britain* 
They  called  the  place  of  punish- 
ment Nistheim,  or  the  abode  of 
evil,  where  Hela  dwelt  ;  whose 
palace  was  anguish ;  her  table, 
famine  ;  her  waiters,  expectation 
and  delay  ;  the  threshold  of  her 
door,  precipice ;  her  bed,  leanness ; 
and  her  looks,  terrour. 

CAUSE   OF   THE   PATHETICK. 

It  was  wont  to  be  jocularly  said 
of  a  Mr.  Lockhart,  a  celebrated 
pleader  at  the  British  bar,  during 
the  last  century,  that  the  amount 
of  his  honoraiiupi,  or  fee,  could  be 
easily  discovered  in  his  counte- 
nance :  for,  if  handsome,  iie  ap- 
peared deeply  affected  at  the  jus- 
tice of  his  client's  case  ;  but  if 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


M 


8ILTA. 


imexpectdUy  greutl^M  regularly 
melted  into  tears. 

80CI&TT. 

Mtfi  is  inconsideraMe  bf  Ids 
alngk  exertions  :  it  b  only  by  uni- 
ting his  eflbrts  with  those  of  his 
species  that  he  produces  any  thing 
of  consequence.  The  bee  is  a 
smsdl  insect,  and  the  ant  still  smal- 
ler, yet  by  association  they  build 
themselves  a  name  and  a  monu- 
ment  more  valuable,  than  the  soli- 
tary lion  is  able  to  boast. 

910ARRS. 
In  face  of  a  host  of  arguments 
cur  literary  loungers  contuma- 
ciously insist  on  being  indulged 
the  gratification  of  tickling  their 
noses  and  burning  their  tongues. 
If  you  allege  that  the  practice  is 
vulgar  and  democratick,  you  are 
answered,  Sir  W.  Raleighis  equal- 
ly famous  as  a  man  of  ilishion  and 
philosopher,  as  for  his  habit  of 
smoking.  Should  you  object  to 
them  the  ladies'  dislike  to  the  prac- 
^e,  they  tell  you,  that  queen 
Elizabeth,  of  glorious  memory, 
was  fond  of  a  pipe,  and  used  hu- 
iworously  to  say,  that  ^U  the  pUas* 
ure%  qf  the  evening  ended  in 
smoke.  If  lastly  you  oppose  to  it 
kingly  authority,  urging  that  James 
I.  wrote  a  treatise  cgmnst  the 
smoking  qf  base  tobacco^  the  smok^ 
ers  will  reply,  we  bum  n<me  but 
what  is  good. 

DOMESTICK  PLEASURES. 

Abroad  men  somedmes  jjass  for 
more,  and  somedmes  for  less,  than 
they  ai^  worth.  The  poUtician 
rolls  himself  up  Hke  a  hedge-hog 
before  strangers  ;  b^it  in  private 
he  shoots  his  quills.  Tiberius  was 
celebrated  by  those  who  did  not 
know  him  ;  but  his  rhetorical  tu- 
tor hesitated  not  to  pronounce  him 
JLuto  et  sanguine  maceratum.  Li- 
berty and  leisure  develope  charac- 


ter. It  is  if!  the  domestick  ctrd^ 
in  the  family  parlour,  in  his  gown 
and  slippers,  in  giving  orders  to 
hiffservantst  that  a  man  is  thor- 
oughly seen.  Here  he  acts  with- 
out disguise  or  restraint.  Here  he 
assumes  no  unnatural  sirs  of  im- 
portance, but  calmly  lays  aside  bis 
foreign  manners,  and  all  his  ex- 
travagant pretensions.  Whetbo* 
accustomed  to  rule  in  the  senate^ 
to  expound  in  the  desk,  or  to  con- 
tend in  the  field,  he  claims  no  pri- 
vilege from  his  facddous  conse- 
quence, when  he  enters  his  own 
mansion.  The  tenderness  of  a 
wife  instandy  arches  his  brow,  and 
he  gladly  exchanges  the  robe  or 
the  sword,  the  high-toned  voice 
and  the  stately  port,  for  the  prattle 
of  his  children,  and  the  pueciUd«9 
and  sports  of  the  hearth.  Here^ 
unpinioned  by  fashion,  he  acknowl^ 
edges  the  dominion  of  nature,  and 
neither  a  stranger  nor  a  bochekir 
intermeddleth  widi  his  joy. 

fie  wiU  not  blush  that  hss  a  firther^ 

hearty 
To  take  in  childish  play  a  childish  parti 
But  bends  his  sturdy  neck  to  any  toy» 
That  youdi  takes  pleasure  in,  to  {4cas# 

his  boy. 

BEAUTY  AND  VIRTUE. 

Not  gardens,  houses,  dress^equl* 
page,  nor  human  faces,  nor  the 
finest  exhibidons  of  nature  or  of 
art,  are  alone  endded  to  be  denom- 
inated beautiful,  as  the  excellent 
Francis  Hutcheson  has  proved,  in 
Ihs  inquiry  into  the  original  of  our 
ideas  of  beauty  and  virtue.  But 
no  where  is  the  comparison  be- 
tween  the  grandeur  of  natural  ob^ 
jects,  and  the  superiour  sublimity 
of  moral  actions,  more  boldly 
drawn  than  in  these  lip^  of  Aken* 
side. 

Look  then  abroad  throiugh  natiire  to  thf 

range     -  ^ 

Of  l)Ianets,   tunsj    and    Adasaantiae 

•liphcres. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


SIL9A. 


Wheeling,  «nftfa|a4ie9^  tlipougii  the  vo(id 

immense  ; 
And  speak,  O  man  1  does  this  capacious 

scene. 
With  half  that  km^ing  majesty  dilate 
Thy  strong  conception,  a^  when  Brutus 

rose 
Refulgent  from  the  stroke  of  Cxsar's 

fete. 
Amid  the  crowd  of  patriots  ;   and  his 

arm  ' 

Aloft  extendinj^,  like  eternal  Jove, 
When  gnilt  brmgs  down  the  thunder, 

call'd  aloud 
On  TuUjr's  name,  and  shook  his  crim- 
son steel, 
And  bade  the  father  of  his  country  hail ! 
For  lo  !  the  tyrant  prostrate  in  the  dust ! 
And  Rome  again  is  free 

ART   OF   READING. 

To  read,  says  M.  Rcytaz,  is  not 
to  collect  letters  and  syllables  ;  it 
is  not  to  pronounce  words  and  sen- 
tences ;  it  is  to  represent  the 
thoughts  of  a  discourse  in  their 
appropriate  colours.  It  is  to  blend 
the  different  passages  in  such  a 
manner,  as  not  to  injure  each  oth- 
er ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  to  give 
to  each  mutual  strength  and  assis- 
tance. It  is  to  distinguish  by  the 
accent, what  is  only  argumentative, 
from  what  is  pathetick  andf  orator- 
ical ;  ^  it  is  to  discern  any  impor- ' 
tant  end  in  a  sentence,  in  order  to 
detach  it  from  the  rest,  and  express 
it  without  affectation,  and  without 
the  appearance  of  design  ;  it  is  to 
convey  the  idea,  rather  than  the 
expressions,  the  sentiments  rather 
than  the  words  ;  it  is  to  follow  the 
impulse  of  the  discourse  in  such 
a  manner,  that  the  delivery  may 
be  quick  or  slow,  mild  or  impetu- 
ous, according  to  the  emotions  it 
«hould  excite. 

POPE. 

Attached  to  the  thread  of  evety 
roan's  life  is  a  little  medal,  whcre- 
on  his  name  is  inscribed,  which 
Timcy  waiting  on  the  shears  of 
4^a(ei  csiXchQ%  up^a«  it  fells  from 


m 

the  inexorable  gteoj^  and  ^b^i^  io 
the  river  Lethe  j  into  which,  were 
it  not  for  certain  birds,  flying  f^ut 
its  banks,  it  would  be  imimeditit^ 
immerged.  But  these  sei?e  t^b 
medals  ere  they  fall,  and  (year  tl^em 
for  a  while  up  and  down  in  their 
beaks  with  much  noise  and  flutter  • 
but  careless  of  their  charge,  or 
unable  to  support  it,  they  most  of 
them  soon  drop  their  shining  pr^ 
one  after  another  into  the  oblivious 
stream.  Nevertheless,  an^ong 
these  heedless  carriers  of  faipe,  are 
a  few  swans,  who,  when  they  catch 
a  medal,  convey  it  carefully  to  tbe 
temple  of  Immortality,  where  it  is 
consecrated.  These  ^wans  of  lnys 
have  been  ramavek.  What  innu- 
merable manes  have  been  dropped 
into  the  dark  stream  of  Oblivion, 
for  one  that  has  been  consecratcid 
in  the  temple  of  Immortality  !— ^ 
The  name  of  Alexander  Pope  thei^e 
shines  conspicuous. 

aWANS. 

The  swan  never  frequents  iljc 
Padus,  nor  the  banks  of  the  Cays- 
terin  Lydia,each  of  themastr^^^ 
celebrated  by  the  ancient  poets  for 
the  resort  of  swans.  Horace  calls 
Pindar  Dircaum  Cignumy  and,  in 
another  ode,  supposes  himself 
changed  into  a  swan. 

Virgil  speaks  of  his  poetical 
brethren  in  the  same  manner.     ^ 

Vercy  tuum  nomen^ 


Cantantes  sublime   ferent   ad    sidera 
cygni. 

When  he  speaks  of  them  figura- 
tively, he  gives  to  them  a  power 
of  melody  ;  but  when  he  refers^o 
them  as  a,  naturalist,  he  gives  them 
their  natural  uncouth  sound.^  ' 

Dant  9<initum  rauci  per  stagna  loquacui 
cygni. 

The  swan  seldom  is  heard  except 
when  on  the  wing,  and  its  notcn 


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M 


siLyA. 


then  have  no  mconri^erablc  affinity 
Id  those  of  the  owl. 

Milton's  description  of  the  swan 
is  as  beautiful,  as  almost  any  found 
among  Ihe  andent  writers,  not* 
witstanding  their  great  partiality 
to  this  bird. 

The  swan,  with  arched  neck 

Between  her  white    wings  mantling, 

proudly  rows 
Her  state  with  wary  feet 

I  find  by  an  act  of  Edw.  IV.  c,  6. 
<*  no  one,  possessing  a  freehold  of 
less  clear  yearly  Talue  than  ^  five 
marks,  shall  be  permitted  to  keep 
swans,  other  than  the  son  of  our 
sovefeign  lord  the  king." 

And  in  such  high  estimation 
were  they  then  had  in  England, 
that  by  II.  Henry  VIII.  c.  17.  the 
punishment  for  taking  their  eggs 
was  «  imfiriaonment  for  a  year  and 
a  day,  and  to  be  fined  at  the  kin^e 
good  fileasurey — It  seems  they  are 
not  quite  so  highly  valued  by  those 
who  resort  to  Hudson's  Bay,  and 
annually  kill  about  three  or  four 
thousand,  which  are  salted,  pickled, 
and  sold  for  "very  good  aea  stores'* 

FALSE   WIT. 

Amongst  the  false  wit  of  the 
ITth  century,  the  writing  oibilleta 
doux,  in  the  shape  of  shovels  and 
tongs,  acrosticks,  riddles,  rebusses, 
kc.  Sec.  &c.  the  PaUndromtta  holds 
as  good  a  claim  to  ridicule  as  any. 
Camden,  I  think,  refined  upon  this 
.  species  of  literature,  and  made  the 
Palindromick  muse  go  backward 
as  well  as  forward — for  instance : 

*  Odo  tenet  mulum,  madidam  mappam 

tenet  Anna. 
Anna  tenet  mappam  madidam^  mulum 

tenet  Odo." 

The  ingenious  reader  may  now 
read  it  forward,  and  when  he  has 


done  thus,  he  wilt  b6  convinced  he 
might  as  well  have  read  it  back* 
ward. 

MILO   OF    CROTOKA. 

The  champion  who  most  distm- 

guished  himself  in  the  Olympick 

Games,  in  the  Pale,  at  wrestling, 

accoi-ding  to  Pausanias,  was  Mik> 

of  Crotona  ;  he  gained  no  less  than 

six  Olympick,  and  as  many  Pythian 

crowns.      There  are  so  many  in- 

stances  of  the  prodigious  strength 

of  this  famous  wresUer,  and  most 

of  them  so   well   known,  that  it 

would  be  as  endless  as  impertinent 

to  cite  them.    But  I  cannot  forbear 

producing  one,  as  remarkable  for 

the  singularity,  as  the  issue  of  the 

experiment.     Milo,  to  give  a  proof 

of  his  astonishing  power,  used  to 

take  a  fiomegranatej  which,withoot 

squeezing  or  breaking,  he  held  so 

fast  by  the  mere  strength  of  his 

fingers,  that  no  person  was  able  to 

take  it  from  him — ^'^  nobody  but  Mm 

mistress;'  says  Elian.      But  how- 

ever  weak  he  may  have  been  with 

regard  to  the  fair  sex,  his  superi- 

our  force  was  universally  ackno^- 

edged  by  men,  as  will  appear  in 

the  fbllowing 

EPIGRAM. 

•«  When  none  adventur'd  in  tb*  Olym= 

pick  sand. 
The  might  of  mighty  M*do  to  witiistand  j 
Th'  unrivaird  chief  advanc'd  t0  seize 

the  crown, 
But  mid  tlie  triumph,    slipt  unwary 

down. 
The  people  shouted,  and  forbade  bestow 
The  wreath  on  him  who  fell  without  a 

foe. 
But,  rising  in  the  midst,  he  stood  and 

cried,  ,    .J    , 

Do  not  three  falls  the  victory  decide  ? 
Fortune,  indeed,  hath  giv^  me  one,  but 

wlio 
Will  undertake  to  throw  me  fbUiftr 

two  r' 


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iCISCBLLAlCT. 


53t 


For  the  Anthology, 
ScriUmus  Indocti, Hor.  Epist. 


WE  thould  do  injustice  to  our 
country  to  deny,  that  she  is  pro- 
lifick  in  authors.  Were  we  to 
judge  of  the  progress  of  the  mind 
by  the  number  of  works,  which 
daily  issue  from  the  press,  we 
ihight  congratulate  ourselves  on 
living  in  this  enlightened  age, 
when  the  weakness  of  humanity 
no  longer  presents  obstacles  to  the 
march  of  reason,  and  when  authors 
compose  with  as  much  facility  as 
they  print  their  works.  We  can- 
not complain  of  want  of  novelty 
on  any  subject.  Some  quit  the 
loom  and  spindle  to  wield  the  his- 
torick  pen ;  others  wander  from  the 
circle  of  domestick  duties,  or  the 
routine  of  mechanick  life,  among 
the  illusions  of  a  heated  imagina- 
tion, mistaking  her  distorted  fea- 
tures for  the  scenery  of  nature  ; 
or  are  humbly  contented  to  glean 
the  sprigs  of  laurel,  which  have 
fallen  from  the  brow  of  genius. 
Even  the  stall  of  the  cobbler  is 
metamorphosed  into  the  workshop 
of  the  muses,  and  its  inhabitant 
is  occupied  in  the  double  employ- 
ment of  manufacturing  leather 
and  fabricating  verses.  Conver- 
sation, one  would  imagine,  would 
aflford  a  convenient  channel  to  this 
superfluity  of  wit  ;  and  that  these 
minds,  contented  with  the  homage 
of  a  circle  of  sycophants,more  igno- 
rant than  themselves,  who  echo  all 
their  thoughts  and  imitate  all  their 
actions,  would  never  burthen  the 
publickwith  their  crude  ideas,  nor 
seek  to  gain  a  height,  which  their 
feeble  pinions  were  never  meant  to 
reach.  But  it  is  the  prerogative 
of  folly  to  proclaim  her  character 
to  the  world  ;  and,  unfortunately, 
the  press  is  too  often  made  the 
VoL  III.  No.  10.       3T 


herald  of  her  presence.  From 
this  corrupted  source  daily  flow 
those  streams  of  false  taste  and  lit- 
erary absurdity,  which  have  inun- 
dated the  rcpublick  of  letters. 
Like  the  rich  ornaments  of  a 
mausoleum,  the  splendid  outside 
of  their  works  covers  a  mere  ca- 
put mortuum.  Mistaking  verbosity 
of  expression  for  fecundity  of 
thought,  and  the  strainings  of  a 
witless  brain  for  the  deductions  of 
reason,  we  may  say  with  the  poet, 

They  write  on  all  things,  but  on  noth- 
ing wclL 

But  we  leave  these  authors,  and 
cannot  wish  them  a  greater  pun- 
ishment while  in  this  world,  than 
to  be  continually  surrounded  by 
their  own  works,  the  monuments 
of  their  ignorance  and  vanity. 

Love  of  method  is  discoverable 
in  all  our  actions.  This  principle 
is  even  extended  to  works  of  the 
mind  and  imagination,  and  we  an- 
ticipate with  as  much  pleasure  the 
developement  of  it  in  a  literary 
composition,  as  we  expect  it  illus- 
trated in  a  piece  of  mechanism. 
Fine  writing  therefore,  to  produce 
a  permanent  interest,must  discover 
that,  in  the  conduct  of  the  whole, 
order  as  well  as  beauty  has  been 
consulted.  The  mind  is  often 
amused  by  the  vagaries  of  the 
imagination,  or  hurried  along  by 
the  aberrations  of  genius,  but  she 
returns  with  pleasure  to  dwell  on 
the  works  of  those  authors,  who 
gratify  the  taste  without  offending 
the  judgment.  The  art  of  fine 
writing  is  acquired  by  degrees. 
Avec  quelque  talent,  says  Rous- 
seau, qu'on  puisse  Atre  d6,  I'art 
d'6crire  ne  s'apprend  pas  tout  d'eu 


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5^ 


■I1CSLLA1IT. 


coup.  Literary  excellence  is  not 
the  effect  of  an  accidental  ray  of 
genius,  nor  of  a  momentary  glow 
of  enthusiasm  ;  the  former  must 
be  tempered  by  industry,  the  latter 
hy  judgment.  The  mind  must 
struggle  with  her  new  ideas,  and« 
by  reiterated  efforts,  reduce  them 
to  order  and  arrange  them  with 
taste.  Man  is  bom  with  an  un« 
wrought  m'me  withbi  him  ;  and, 
while  he  extracts  the  golden  ore 
and  rehne^  the  precious  metal,  he 
gives  acumen  to  the  very  instru* 
ments,  with  which  he  works. 

No  maxim  perhaps  has  dene 
more  injury  to  the  cause  of  letters, 
than  that,  by  which  a  writer  is  di* 
rected  to  feel  his  subject,  before  he 
attempts  its  expression.  We  are 
kd  to  believe,  that  if  the  sacred 
flame  can  ^mce  be  produced,  the 
.  whole  composition  will  g^ow  with 
an  equal  warmth,  and  that  this  ex* 
citementof  mind  will  naturally  be 
followed  by  a  correct  view  of  the 
subject,  a  just  arrangement  of 
parts,  and  a  perspicuous  and  ele- 
gant language.  Instead  therefore 
of  suffering  the  mind  tranquilly  to 
pursue  her  train  of  ideas,  and  by 
patience  and  perseverance  to  ar- 
range them  in  a  lucid  order  and 
clothe  them  in  a  just  expression, 
an  ai-tificial  warmth  is  excited,  by 
which  they  are  expanded  uito 
bombast,  or  dissipated  into  ^  thin 
air."  Tl>e  mipd  of  a  writer  must 
ever  he  at  ease  and,  like  the  Alps, 
tower  sublime  and  unmoved  amid 
the  conflict  of  the  passions.  No 
modern  writer  perhaps  discovers 
more  wari^th  of  imagination  or 
rapidity  of  conception  than  Rous^ 
seau.  His  success  in  letters  how** 
ever  was  the  consequence  of  the 
unwearied  exertion  of  a  superiour 
mind.  Je  les  consacr^is,  s^ys 
he  in  speaking  of  hb  works,  les 
insomnics  de  mes  nuits.  Je  me- 
ditais  dans  man  lit,  a  yeux  ferme^ 
et  je  toumois  et  r^toumois  mes  pe- 


fjodes,  dans  ma  tete^avcc  des  peines 
incroyables.  His  works  are  com- 
. posed  with  such  spirit  and  enthu- 
siasm, that  we  are  disposed  to  im- 
agine he  never  took  up  the  pen, 
but  when  he  glowed  with  tliose 
transports,  with  which  he  agitates 
the  bosoms  of  his  readers.  It 
was,  however,  only  by  preierviDg 
a  free  and  tranquil  mind,  that  he 
was  able  so  successfully  to  com* 
bine  in  his  works  every  circum* 
stance,  which  could  add  strength 
to  his  ideas,  or  elegance  to  his 
composition.  In  the  iHiitativt 
and  mechanical  arts  we  find  thati 
independent  of  peculiar  talentSy 
success  is  generally  pi^oportioBai 
to  the  degree  of  labour  bestowed 
on  their  objects ;  and  may  Dot  tbo 
observation  be  extended  to  the  ait 
of  writing  ?  Is  the  exertiOD  of 
mind  in  the  latter  less,  because  its 
powers  are  differently  Qirected? 
or  does  it  require  less  genius  and 
industry  to  perfect  a  literary  work, 
than  is  developed  in  the  productkm 
of  a  painting,  or  a  statue  ?  A  ge« 
nius  like  Rapliael,  before  he  com* 
mits  his  images  to  the  canvasi 
selects  from  the  raaterialsf  which 
his  imagination  had  collected  from 
the  works  of  nature  ;  he  contrasts^ 
combines,  disposes  of  his  light  and 
shade  ;  he  varies  with  judgment 
and  groups  with  taste,  till  having 
breath 'd  over  the  whole  the  charm 
of  ideal  beauty,  he  seizes  the  pen- 
cil and  ^rith  patient  industry 
gradually  gives  to  the  fleeting  vi- 
sions of  his  imagination  the  per- 
manence of  real  existence.  But 
this  is  not  the  effect  of  mere  im« 
pu I se.  It  is  the  creation  of  genius* 
aided  by  study  and  develop^  by 
industry.  Hence  also  the  writer, 
ambitious  of  literary  fame;  is  con- 
vinced with  Pope,  that 
True  case  in  writing  comes  fram  trt^ 

not  chancer 
like  the  painter,  he  attends  to  whal 
may  be  termed  the  mechanica]  part 


^     Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


mtCB&tAlfT. 


SSI 


of  composition.  Af\erthc  aeqiH« 
sition  of  ideaS)  which  have  been 
strengthened  by  reflection  and 
chastened  by  purity  of  toste,  he 
submits  them  to  a  correct  arrange- 
ment and  embodies  them  in  a  per- 
spicuous and  harmonious  expres- 
sion. From  their  continued  atten- 
tion to  these  three  constituents^ 
thoughts,  arrangement)  ami  stylet 
resulu  the  interest  with  which  the 
.  works  of  some  authors  are  read. 
We  are  hurried  along  by  a  pleas- 
ing violence,  and  mistake  the  effect 
of  the  taste,  the  judgment,  and  the 
profound  exertions  of  the  writer, 
for  the  unaffected,  spontaneous 
flow  of  nature.  We  seize  the  ptn 
with  a  desire  to  imitate,  but  soon 
resign  it  in  despair,  convinced  how 
near  the  perfection  of  art  and  the 
effusions  of  nature  approach  each 
other.  These  are  the  authors  one 
delights  to  read.  These  are  the 
subUme  souls,  that  seem  to  have 
caught  a  ray  of  inspiration  front 
heaven  to  conduct  their  fellow 
mortals  through  mazes  of  errour, 
to  the  sacred  bowers  of  eternal 
truth  and  happiness. 

The  ancients,  more  hon^^t  thati 
the  mcxiems,  acknowledged  the 
difficulty  of  acquiring  the  ai1>  o$ 
writing  well.  They  never  imag- 
ined, that  tarcHness  of  comjjbsition 
necessarily  implied  pover-ty  of 
ideas,  nor  that  application  damped 
the  mental  flame.  They  preier- 
red  the  steady  blaze  of  ifitettect  to 
a  meteorous  brilliancy,  wliiek  ex- 
pires in  the  efibrt  Chat  ga^  it 
birth.  For  exaiwplt&  we  might 
mention  the  poet  Euripides^  who 
was  employed  thr«e  days  in  tive 
composition  of  as  many  versas ; 
and  the  orator  Isocrales,whose  A«- 
tick  taste  found  exercise  for  ten 
years  on  a  single  oration.  The  illus- 
trious Cicero  could  ndl  pen  even  a 
^miliar  epistle,  without  bestowing 
on  it  a  degree  of  labour,  wliicb  th« 
economy  of  our  nMKteri!  writer* 


wcwld  hardly  expend  on  an  octavo. 
The  author  of  the  iEneid  was  twen- 
ty-seven years  in  perfecting  that 
beautiful  mental  fabrick,  which, like 
the  Grecian  temples,  happily  com- 
bines simplicity  with  graiuleur,  and 
dignity  with  toste.  Even  someof  the 
modems  have  been  convinced  of 
this  truth.  The  celebrated  authof 
of  **  Les  Lettres  Provincialei"  re- 
cords, that  he  was  agitated  ten 
whole  days  in  fixing  the  significa- 
tion of  a  single  word.  Tiie  whole 
li£e  of  the  musing  Gray  afforded 
the  world,  but  a  small  bouquet  of 
intellectual  flowers,  and  even  some 
of  these  were  Culled  from  the  rich 
fields  of  ancient  literature.  These 
examples  are  stifllcient  to  prove, 
that  by  tliosc,  who  have  most  ex- 
celled in  literary  composition,  fine 
writing  has  been  considered  an 
art,  the  acquirement  of  which  de- 
pended on  a  profound  and  contin- 
ued exertion  of  intellect.  Ideas 
undoubtedly  form  the  first  object 
of  attention,  but  language,  though 
a  subordinate,  is  still  an  esseniial 
part.  Indeed  the  effect  of  the  for- 
mer  results,in  a  great  degree,  from 
the  character  of  the  latter.  It  is  by 
the  union  of  these,  thai  the  enrap- 
tured soul  is  fired  by  * 

•*  Thouc^kts  that  breathe^  and  words 
ttat  bunk" 

Wr  cannot  bttt  admire,  therefore, 
the  pains  that  our  authors  take  to 
send  foi'th  to  the  wo|*ld  their  im- 
becije  productions,  which  survive 
but  a  day,  and  then  IW  dusty  and 
neglected  en  the  bookbinder's  shelf, 
M  they  airetrimsportted,  with  other 
Iftcrary  tntSh,  to  the  pastry  coojc's 
0r  die  trunkmaker*^s.  To  these 
writers,  thus  infected  witb  the  ca^ 
i0€fhe4  B€rib€n4i^  we  vouki  recom- 
iHefidthe  ohservatioiv^f  an  ancient 
pamter,  whOy^'feen  he  was  accused 
of  tardines*  <Jf  executiort,  replied, 
Dxu'piogdjCjuumto  afctertium  pingo. 

rBIJUADTHOS. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


POETRY. 

Tor  the  Monthly  Anthology. 

90MITT, 

Si  hie  flosculus,  in    vestri    Anthologid  positus,    boni  aliquid  vel  narilm 
irel  Bculii  haberety  iiiBerite,  ac  alios  mittam. 

AD 
^  JULIUM, 

ACADEMIAM    PRO     MBRCATUEA    MtNqUKNTiriK. 

Eheu  !    quam  miseri  sunt  Avaritiz 
Scrvi,  matris   atrx  sordis  et  asperz ; 
Sulcatx  assiduo  pondere,  tempora, 
Aurati  diadematis. 

Vidi,  eheu  !    miseros,  Lucifero  ducc, 
Privatim  numerahtes  gi^vis  annulos 
Fulgentisque  catenx  ;    venientis  ab 
Pallentesque  pedis  metu. 

Jfuli,  in  hoc  numerari^grege  sordido, 
Musis  perpetu6,  visne,   rejcctus   ab  ? 
Die,  tantum  unde  venit,  die,  capiti  tuo. 
Hoc  desiderium   opum  ? 

Merccs,  Virgilii,  judice  Julio, 
Apparet  mehor  versibus  optimis  ? — 
Vasto  in  gurgitc  avarAm  i,  puer  ebrius, 

Vestriim  obliTius  ac  tuL  Lvciut. 


For    the    Monthly    Anthology. 

PASTORAL. 

O  fertnnitofl  nimfaifn,  toa  si  bona  norint, 

Agricolas  I   qolbw  Iptt,  procul  diiCordttNU  annb 

Fiindit  humo  fadlem  Ttaum  jutttnlnu  tdlus.— >TIRG]I<. 

BETWEEN  those  sister  elms  with  ivy  hoar 
Peeps  out  the    simple  cottage  of  the  poor ; 
How  green  before  the  door  that  clover-lawn ! 
How  sweet  the  hedges  smell  of  fragrant  thorn  ! 
How  pure  that  brooK  limps  o'er  its  pebbly  bed, 
Tween  banks  of  thyme  where  willows  hang  the  bead. 
And  linnets  build,  and  fly  from  spray  to  spray. 
And  warble  wild  their  song  the  livelong  day. 

On  yonder  hills,  that  skirt  the  •astern  sky, 
Wh^  mom  begins  to  peer  with  prudish  eye. 
Scarce  gilds  the  mists,  that  cloud  the  famine  rill* 
Or  tips  the  foam,  that  breaks  beside  the  mill, 
Forth  from  thit  dwelling  hies  the  early  swain, 
And,  whistling,  field-ward  drives  his  lagnng  waia. 
No  wants  are  his  by  restless  greatness  fdt. 
No  studious  lids  his  little  taper  melt. 
Regardless  he,  howe'er  the  world  may  fare. 
So  timely  crops  repay  his  honest  care. 

Oft  have  I  view'd  in  still  and  sidtry  hours. 
All  loosely  spread  beneath  his  native  bowers, 
While  herds  around  the  flowery  pasture  took. 
This  vacant  shepherd,  sleeping  on  his  crook. 
How  lightly  here  methought  his  moments  flew. 
Removed  from  noisy  fame  and  publick  view  ; 


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ORTttlNAt.  POETUT,'  511 

Ko  teeminr  fHend  beside  his  bosom  laid. 

But  faithM  Watch  who  guards  the  checkered  shad«  i 

Ko  fawning  slave  who  waits  Ambition's  word. 

With  crimson  hand  to  flesh  the  murderous  sword. 

His  tuneful  groves  that  gratuhite  the  dawn. 

The  flocks  that  wander  o*er  the  peaceful  lawn. 

And  smiling  Spring,  her  hair  with  cowslips  bound. 

From  rosy  fingers  strewing  fragrance  round ; 

While  cooling  Zephyr  sports  on  gelid  wings. 

Skims  o*er  the  plain  and  through  the  greenwood  lingt. 

Shakes  liquid  pearl  from  off  the  nodding  sheaf. 

Or  whispering  plays  on  aspen's  twinkling  leaf. 

When  Day  retiring  fires  the  glowing  west 
With  broken  clouds,  that  round  his  forehead  rest. 
When  moping  owlets  quit  the  moulderi%  tower. 
And  widow'd  turtly  moan  in  lonely  bower. 
When  hill  and  tree  a  lengthen'd  shadow  throw. 
And  mournful  Evening  comes  in  weeds  of  wo. 
Returning  home  the  swain  with  pleasure  eyes. 
In  wreaths  fantastick  climbing  through  the  skies. 
The  smoke  from  out  his  little  cabin  creep, 
Which  trees  imbowering  veil  in  umbrage  deep. 
In  'kerchief  clean  and  speckl'd  apron  gay. 
His  Mary  speeds  to  meet  him  on  the  way  ; 
While  round  in  breathless  haste  his  children  press, 
And  fondly  struggle  for  the  first  caress. 

And  through  the  naked  woods  when  cold  winds  blow. 
And  chirping  sparrows  nestle  in  the  snow. 
While  on  the  bush  the  slender  'cicles  hang. 
And  bitter  Winter  bites  with  icy  fang. 
Beside  the  cleanly  hearth,  where  faggots  sing. 
And  through  the  room  a  social  bri^tness  fluig. 
Amid  the  group  he  sits  with  marvelling  gaze, 
Listening  the  fearful  tales  of  gothick  days  ; 
How  spectres  g^aning  stalk'd  their  dusky  round 
With  saucer  eyes,  in  chamel  garments  wound ; 
How  once  in  ruin'd  castle,  strange  to  tell, 
At  waste  of  midnight  toU'd  the  northern  bell ; 
Where  none  at  evening  e'er  so  stout  durst  stray. 
Lest  gliding  ghost  should  cross  his  blasted  way. 
If  chance  with  passing  breeze  the  casement  jar, 
AH  trembling  huddle  round  the  speaker's  chair. 

Thus  flow  his  hours  harmonious,  tranquil,  clear. 

While  pleasures  vary  with  the  varying  year 

Here  would  I  lose  the  world  without  a  sigh, 
And  wish  my  humbler  bones  inturf'd  to  he. 

Peter  Pastoeax, 


To  the  Editors  of  the  Monthly  Anthology, 
•emtlemen, 

If  the  following  be  too  trifling  for  insertion  in  the  Anthology,  it  is  requested, 
that  it  may  be  laid  by  without  notice. 

ON     LISTENING     TO     A     CRICKET. 


I  LOVE,  thou  little  chirping  thing. 
To  hear  thy  melancholy  noise  ; 
Though  thou  to  fancy's  ear  may  sing. 
Of  summer  past,  and  fading  joys. 


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Thoa  oMift  not  aow  drink  dew  ftam  flowcit» 
Kor  qiort  tlaag  the  traveller's  path. 
Bat  througk  the  winter't  weary  hours* 
Shall  witrm  thee  at  my  lonely  hetrth ; 

And  when  my  lamp^  dectyini^  bemm. 
But  dimlv  shews  the  letter'd  ps^> 
Rich  with  some  ancient  poef  s  dreun. 
Or  wisdom  of  s  purer  sfe. 

Then  will  I  listen  to  thy  sound. 
And  musing  o'er  the  embers  pale* 
With  whitening  ashes  strewed  iroond^ 
The  Ibrms  of  memory  unveil ; 

Recal  the  maoy-coloured  dreams, 
Thst  fancy  fbnd^  weaves  for  yoath. 
When  all  the  bright  ilhisian  seems  , 
The  inctund  promises  of  truth. 

Perchance,  observe  the  faithful  light 
Send  its    fidnt  flashes  round  the  room. 
And  think  some  pleasures 'feebly  bright 
May  lighten  thus  life's  varied  gloom. 

I  love  the  quiet  midnight  hour. 
When  care  and  hope  aind  passion  ileep. 
And  reason  with  untroubled  power 
Can  her  late  vigils  duly  keep  i 

I  love  the  night ;  and  sooth  to  say. 
Before  the  merry  birds,  that  sing 
In  all  the  gU^  and  noise  of  day. 
Prefer  the  cricket's  grating  wing. 

But  see  !   pale  Autmnn  strews  her  Icavee^ 
Her  withered  leaves,  o'er  nature's  gra^re. 
While  giant  Winter  she  perceives 
Dark  ruiihing  from  his  icy  fve  i 

And  in  his  train  the  sleety  showers. 
That  beat  upon  the  barren  earth  ; 
Thou,  cricket,  through  these  weary  hours 
Shall  warm  thee  at  my  lonely  hearth. 


Ftr  the  Monthly  JMology. 
•BKTLEMEN,  ^  ^  . 

Several  susceptible  youths  of  yom  cHy  havine  been  lately  ^^^JJ^JJI 
making  vnxful  ballads  to  their  mistrces'  eye-brow,  a  entered  m  "*^^  A 
tempt  jnrarrhnig  after  their  manner  upon  the  interesting  object  of  my  tcnderts 
attachments,....Dolly. 

EVISTLE  TO  DOLLT. 

FEOM  the  datk  gulf  of  comfortless  despur 
Oh  suiTer  me,  thou  Empress  of  my  soul. 
With  trembling  hand  and  gizxard*  titiUating, 
And  heart  that  beats  in  lyuson  with  yours. 
Like  some  twin  cherry,  by  sweet  zephyr  mov'd, 
Jostling  in  concert  with  ite  ruby  brother, 
^     To  write  to  you,  your  sex's  nonpareil 

•  Lateij  dUeovered. 


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OKIOINAL  FOBTRT.  #9| 

Those  gooseberry  eyet  wHh  emerald  Ughtniiift  U^ 
Beaming  sublime  like  barn-door  in  the  mom. 
Have  burnt  thy  Neddy's  hmrt  just  like,  forsooth, 
A  crisp  pork-chop  upon  a  gridiron. 
Oh,  oh  those  pouting  cherry  lips  of  thine* 
Where  little  dierubim  and  seraphim 
Panee  sportive  to  thy  throat's  wild  melody  t 
Oh  Dc^y  Dumpling,  Dolly  Dumpling  oh  i 
Deign,  deign  to  squiOt  one  r»y  of  love  dxniM 
Into  my  tender  bosom,  gre^andiz'd 
With  cold  disdain  and  Lapland  iciness. 
Paint  to  yourself  my  restless  ibrm  bid  pvon* 
In  sheets  of  linen  or  of  cotton  made. 
There  thinking  on  thy  angel  soaen  I  toss  in  pi^i^ 
Turning  now  on  this,  and  then  on  t'other  nde. 
My  throbbing  heart  the  while  with  foroelul  best 
Striving  to  break  my  ribs  and  'scape  to  thet. 
So  have  I  oflen  seen  some  hapless  gooee. 
In  &nner's  yard  by  cruel  coop  pent  In, 
RecUess  of  life  beat  hard  aramst  the  slats. 
And  strive  in  vain  to  gain  the  gabl^ing  fiodk. 

How  pleasant  sitting  at  my  cottage  doo» 
To  view  at  eve  the  sun's  declining  ray. 
Soft  sliding  through  the  mountain's  blushy  brow ;  * 
To  hear,  the  Vacant  laugh  of  honest  steed. 
The  beehive's  buzz,  and  courting  pigeon's  coo. 
When  toil  is  o'er,  and  atretch'd  upon  the  tuxf. 
How  sweet  to  view  our  little  playful  lambs 
Bound  like  grasshoppers  in  a  neld  of  hay; 
And  when  our  pretty  little  brindle  cow. 
Before  the  wicker  gate  with  meekest  look. 
Shall  ask  our  pliant  hands  her  teats  to  squeeze. 
How  will  your  Neddy  snd  his  Dolly  dear. 
With  each  a  milking-p^l  and  each  a  stool. 
Express  the  streams  of  sweet  nectareoiui  dew. 
That  Gods  shall  wish  to  be  like  /  and  TotL 

Nbddt  Nnnui. 


For  the  Anthokgy. 

LXVBS   WAXTTVB   AT  SXA   AFTZK   A   STOBIC 

THE  faithless  waves  III  trust  no  more. 
Nor  fickle  winds,  nor  balefid  skies  ; 
Return  me  td  my  native  shore. 
My  heart  in  every  danger  cries. 

But  praise  to  hii%  who  rules  the  wave ! 
His  hand,  that  wields  the  lightning's  spear, 
Outstretch'd  has  kindly  been  to  save, 
Hb  eSr  has  evier  heard  my  prayer. 

If  thou  restore  me  to  my  native  land. 

To  thee  I  will  devote  my  days ; 
Withdraw  not  thy  protecting  hand. 

But  guid<  me  tt^  temptation's  mase. 


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n$ 


•SLSeTBD    POftTRT. 


SELECTIONS. 


[We  anticipate  the  smiles  and  the  thanks  of  our  readers  for  the  extracts,  wkkh 
fiiUow  from  Montgomery's  poems.  Had  it  been  in  our  power,  the  presest 
bouquet  should  huve  been  enlarged  ;  but  we  love  to  be  sparing  of  fragrant 
and  flowers,  and,  8urely,a  diusy  and  snow-drop  will  suffice  for  October.  Tbm 
is  a  harmpny  in  some  of  his  lines,  which  is  exquisite  to  a  musical  ear  ;  and  his 
figures  and  combinations  indicate,  that  he  is  no  cop3risL  Hn  future  prodBC- 
lions  will  entitle  him  to  an  honourable  rank.  He  has  already  written  poeos, 
winch  are  consecrated  to  durable  preservation  in  the  brilliant  and  mighty  ma 
of  English  poetry.  But  probably  his  prophecy  is  superiour  to  his  fiilfiWat, 
and  we  are  willing  to  believe,  that  his  future  greatness  will  advance  befud 
the  just  exactness  of  present  anticipation.  He  is  now  a  little  lulus  ;  br  ai 
by  he  will  reign  on  the  throne  of  his  forefathers.  His  general  merit  infl  be 
acknowledged  by  all ;  but  difference  of  opinion  be^^  with  comparison.  We 
do  not  pretend  to  decide  his  relative  excellence,  br  the  school,  to  which  k 
belongfs.  We  love  to  dwell  on  the  purity  of  the  *  snow-drop,*  which  is  better 
than  oxslips  and  wild  thyme  ;  and  the  *  field  flower,'  too,  has  perlume  wi 
iintSf  whicn  are  superiour  to  aromata  and  ^es  from  Ethiopia.} 


▲   riKLD   FLOWER  ; 

Oh  finding  one  in  full  bloom  on  Christ- 
nuu  Day,  1803. 

THERE  is  a  flower,  a  little  flower. 
With  silver  crest  and  golden  eye, 
That  welcomes  every  changing  hour. 
And  weathers  every  sky. 

The  prouder  Beauties  of  the  field. 
In  gay  but  quick  succession  shine. 
Race  afler  race  their  honours  yield. 
They  flourish  and  decline. 

But  this  small  flower,  to  nature  dear. 
While  moons  and  stars  their  courses 

run. 
Wreathes  the  whole  circle  of  the  year. 
Companion  of  the  sun. 

It  smiles  upon  the  lap  of  May, 
To  sultry  August  spreads  its  charms. 
Lights  pale  October  on  his  way. 
And  tvrines  December's  arms. 

The  purple  heath  and  golden  broom. 
On  moory  mountains  catch  the'gale. 
O'er  lawns  the  lily  sheds  perfume. 
The  violet  in  the  vale. 

But  tills  bold  floweret  climbs  the  hill. 
Hides  in  the  forest,  haunU  the  glen. 
Plays  on  the  margin  of  Uie  riU, 
?eeps  round  the  fox's  den. 


Within  the  garden's  cultured  itxai^ 
It  shares  the  sweet  carnation's  bed ; 
And  blooms  on  consecrated  graoBd 
In  honour  of  the  dead. 

The  lambkin  crops  its  crimson  gem. 
The  w*ild*bee  murmurs  on  its  breast. 
The  blue-fly  bends  its  pensile  stea^ 
Light  o'er  the  sky-lark's  nest 

•Tis  Flora's  page  : ^In  eTeiyphc^ 

In  every  season,  fresh  and  fair. 
It  opens  with  perennial  grace. 
And  blossoms  ever>-  where. 

On  waste  and  woodland,  rock  and  pfaii^ 
Its  humble  buds  unheeded  rise  ; 
The  Rose  has  but  a  summer-xeigRf 
Tlie  DAISY  never  dies. 


TUC    SNOW    DROr. 

Winter  !  retire, 

Thy  reign  is  past  j 

Hoarj'  Sire  ! 

Yield  the  sceptre  of  tliy  sway, 

Sound  thy  trumpet  in  tiic  blast. 

And  call  thy  storms  away ; 

Winter  !  retire  ; 

Wherefore  do  thy  wheels  delay  ? 

Mount  the  chariot  of  thine  ire. 

And  quit  the  realms  of  day , 


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SftLKCTrt)  ^OETRT. 


5S7 


WhirlwiiKis  wait ; 

And   blood-sl^    ne^e^   lend   ^ke^ 

Ught; 
Hence  to  dreary  arctick  regions  ; 
Summon  thy  tcirifick  legpons  ; 
Hence  tocavei  of  northern  nig;ht 
Speed  thy  flight 

And{i«rer  okieiy 

O  southern  breeze  1 

Awake,  arise  : 

Breath  of  heaven  !   benignly  blow. 

Melt  the  anow  ; 

Breath  of  heaven  !  unchain  the  £lood<« 

Warmihe  woods, 

An4  make  the  moimtaxns  flow. 

Auspicious  to  the  Muse^  prayer. 

The  freshening  jgale 

l&mbalms  the  vsde. 

And  breathes  enchantment  tSiro'  the 

air: 
Oiiit9  wing 
floats  the  Springs 
With  glowing  eye,  and  ffolden  hair  : 
Dark  before  "her  Angel-form 
Bhe  drires  the  Demon  of  t!he  storm^ 
Cike  dadiMeas  chasing  Care. 

Winter's* i^oomy  night  withdrawn^ 
Lo  !  the  young  romantick  hours 
Search  the  hiU,  the  dale,  the  lawn, 
To  behold  the  SNOW-DROP  white 
fitartto  li^t, 

AAd  shine  in  Flora's  deaart  boweri* 
Beneath  the  vernal  dawn, 
^e  Morning  Star  of  Flowers  ! 

b  wiAooflia  to  our  tale, 
Thou  Motmgo  of  Peace  £ 
At  whoae  bewitching  smile 
The  embattled  tempests  cease  : 
£mhlem  of  Innocence  and  Truth  1 
^irst^bom  of  Nature's  womb. 
When  «tronr  in  renovated  youth, 
8lie  bttnts  from  Winter'a  tomb  ; 
T^  P^aseatf a  eye  hath  shed 
A  precious  dew-drop  on  tluneisead. 
Frail  as  a  mother's  tear, 
<fpon  her  infant's  face. 
When  vrdent  hope  to  tender  fi^ar^ 
And  jooKioiis  love,  gives  place. 
Bat  lo  !  the  dew«dn>p  falls  awiy, 
The  aun  salutes  thee  with  a  ray. 
Warm  as  a  m  other's  kiss 
^pon  her  infant's  cheek. 


"l^^feieii  the  hevft  fyounAi  W^h  Iffisa,  ' 
And  joy  that  cannot  speak  ! 

-*— IWiei  I  meet  Ihce  by  the  way. 
Like  a  pretty,  sportive  child. 
On  the  winter-wasted  wild. 
With  thy  darling  breeze  at  play. 
Opening  to  the  radiant  sky 
All  the  sweetness  of  thine  eye  ; 
•^-Or  hright  with  sunbeams,  fresh  with 

showers, 
O  thou  Fairy-Queen  of  ^wera  1 
Watch  thee  o'er  the  plain  advance 
At  tlie  head  of  Flora's  dance  ; 
Simple  SNOW-DROP  !  theninthe» 
AU  thy  sister  train  I  see  : 
£very  brilliant  bud  that  blows. 
From  the  blue-bell  to  the  rose  ; 
All  the  beauties  that  appear 
On  the  bosom  of  the  year  ; 
AH  that  wreathe  the  locks  of  Sprinr, 
Summer's  ardent  breath  perfume, 
X)r  on  the  lap  of  Autumn  bloom, 
— All  to  thee  their  tribute  bring. 
Exhale  their  incense  at  thy  shrine, 
— ^Their  hues,  their  odours  all  are  thine ! 
For  while  thy  humble  form  I  view. 
The  Muse's  keen  prophetick  sight 
Brings  fair  Futuri^  to  licrht. 
And  Fancy's  magick  makes  the  vision 

true. 

— Thew  is  a  Winter  in  toy  soul, 
TTie  Winter  of  despair  ; 
O  when  shall  Spring  its  rage  control  ? 
When  shall  the  SNOW-DftOP  bios- 

som  there  ? 
Cold  gleams  of  comfort  sometimes  dart 
A  dawn  of  glory  on  my  heart. 
But  quickly  pass  away  : 
Tbus^ortbem-lights  the  gloom  adorn. 
And  give  the  promise  of  a  room. 
That  never  turns  to  day  I 

——But  hark  !  methinks  I  liear 

A  smaU  still  whisper  in  mine  ear : 

«  Rash  Youth  !  repent, 

«*  Afflictions  from  above 

*'  Are  Angels,  sent 

•*  On  embassies  of  love. 

**  A  fiery  Legion,  at  thy  birth, 

"Of  chastening  Woes  were  given,    . 

•<To  phick  thy  flowers  of  Hope  ^f^ 

earth, 
*'  And  plant  them  high 
*'  O'er  yonder  aky, 
«Transform'd  to  stars,— and  fiz'd  i|i 

heaven." 


r«l.  IIL  No.  10.        3U 


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59t 


THE  BOSTON  REVIEW. 


OCTOBER,    1806. 


JLibnim  taom  leri  &  quam  dlligpentUsime  potui  annoUvi,  qux  covirautanda,  qus- 
eximenda,  arbitrarer.  Nam  ego  dicere  Tero  assuevi.  Neque  ulli  patientios 
rcprehenduntur,  quam  qui  mazime  laudari  merentur.^— Pliny. 


ARTICLE    54. 

The  Journal  ofAndrno  ElHcott^  late 
comnu99ioner  on  behalf  qf  the  C/- 
nited  States,  during  fiart  of  the 
year  I796ythe  years  1797,  179«, 
1799,  and/iart  of  the  year  1800, 
for  determining  the  boundary  be^ 
tween  the  United  States  and  the 
fiossessions  of  his  catholick  majesty 
in  America,  containing  occasional 
remarks  on  the  situation,  soil,  rrv' 
crs,  natural  /iroduction8,and  dis^ 
eases  of  the  different  countries  on 
the  Ohio,  Mississifipi,  and  gulf  of 
Mexico  ;  with  six  mafis,  comfire^ 
hending  the  Ohio,  the  Mississififd 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  to  the 
gulf  of  Mexico,  the  whole  of  W. 
Florida,  and  fiart  qf  E,  Florida. 
To  which  is  added  an  afifiendix, 
containing  all  the  astronomical  ob- 
servations  made  use  of  for  deter- 
mining the  boundary,  with  many 
others  made  in  different  fiarts  of 
the  country  for  settling  the  gto- 
grafifdcal  fiositions  of  some  ini' 
fiortant  points,  with  maps  of  the 
boundary  on  a  large  scale  ;  like- 
wise, a  great  number  of  thermo* 
metrical  observations  made  at  dif- 
ferent times  and  /daces.  1  vol, 
4to.  Philadelphia,  Budd  &  Bar- 
tram.     1803. 

GsooRAPUT  has  been  so  assid- 
uously cultivated  of  late  years,  that 
every  work  tending  to  its  improve- 
ment has  been  received  with  more, 
than  common  interest.  In  the 
pursuit  of  this  science,  individuals 


have  been  tempted  to  brave  the 
rigours  of  every  clime,  and  their 
exertions  have  been  protected  by 
hostile  governments.  If  then  cu- 
riosity could  be  excited  with  re- 
gard to  distant  rivers,  tracing  their 
courses  through  savage  deserts, 
with  how  much  interest  would 
they  look  forward  to  the  attain- 
ment of  an  accurate  knowledge  of 
the  Ohio  and  Mississippi,  rivers 
extensive  in  themselves,  and  the 
only  avenues  to  the  ocean  of  a  fer- 
tile and  flourishing  country  on  the 
former  river,  and  of  almost  bound- 
less and  unknown  regions  on  the 
latter  ?  At  the  moment  of  publi- 
cation, the  Mississippi  bad  acquir- 
ed an  additional  cbim  to  the  con- 
sideration of  the  American  pub* 
lick,  by  the  recent  cession  of  Lou- 
isiana. Mr.  EUicott,  clothed  in  an 
ofRcial  character,  possessed  during 
a  period  of  nearly  four  years  the 
means  of  obtaining  such  informa- 
tion, as  woiild  fully  have  gratified 
the  publickesipectation.  To  show 
how  far  these  advantages  have  been 
improved  will  be  the  object  of  the 
following  review. 

A  journal  soon  becomes  dull, 
where  we  are  neitlier  instructed 
by  important  facts,  nor  amused 
with  interesting  anecdotes  or  ob- 
servations. The  reader  is  soon  &• 
tigued  with  passing  over  bad  roads 
and  down  shoal  rivers,  where  he 
has  nothing  but  these  necessary 
concomitants,  teanng  accidents,  or 
the  state  of  the  weather,  to  amuse 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


ELLItOTT*S  JdVRlTAL. 


m$ 


iam.  Our  author  left  Philadel- 
phia^Sept.  16,  1796,  and  till  his 
arrival  at  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio, 
the  1 9th  of  December  following, 
we  find  no  information  of  impor- 
tance, or  any  observation,  that  can, 
for  a  moment,  relieve  the  fatigue 
of  the  journey  ;  and  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Ohio,  there  is  but  a  very 
short  retrospect  of  the  fine  coun- 
try he  had  passed.  The  Ohio, 
formed  by  the  junction  of  the  Alleg- 
hany and    Monongahela,  accord- 

"ing  to  Mr.  E.,  is  one  of  the  finest 
rivers  in  the  United  States.  He 
says,  "  The  bottom  and  sides  of 
the  river  are  strong  from  Pitts- 
burgh down  to  the  low  country, 
which  is  generally  supposed  to  be 
about  eight  hundred  miles.  The 
strata  of  stone  are  horizontally 
disposed,  and  principally  consist 
of  either  free  stone  or  lime  stone. 
This  horizontal  disposition  of  the 
strata  of  stone  is  observable  thro' 
a  very  large  extent  of  the  United 
States."  The  flat  lands  on  the 
Ohio  are  very  fertile,  but,  in  many 
places,  not  extensive.  "  A  large 
proportion  of  the  hills  and  moun- 
tains are  unfit  for  agricultural  pur^ 
poses,  being  either  too  steep  or 
faced  with  rock«.  The  hills  and 
mountains  on  the  east  side  of  the 
river  generally  increase  in  jnagni^ 
tude,  till  they  unite  with  the  great 
ridge  commonly  called  the  Allege 
hany,    but  on  ilie  west  side   they 

-  decrease,  till  the  country  becomes 
almost  a  dead  level."  Besides  the 
immediate  necessaries  of  life,  this 
country  produceti  hemp,  fruits,  &c.; 
cordage,  hard  ware,  glass,  whis- 
key, and  cider  are  manufactured  ; 
salted  provisions  also  are  made 
here  ;  and  the  raw  materials  or 
the  manufactured  art  ides  are  sent 
to  New  Orleans,  wheiL*  they  find 
a  ready  market,  and  on  ihtm,  Mr. 
£.  thinks,  the  inhabitants  ought  to 
^•cccivc    bounU<:s.      To  say  any 


thing  of  the  general  impropriety 
of  bounties,wouldbe  needless,asthe 
absurdity  of  making  the  Atlantick 
states,  who  have  large  tracts  of  land 
still  uncultivated,  pay  for  the  im- 
provement of  lands  upon  the  Ohio, 
is  too  glaring.  To  the  tax  upon 
whiskey  ,or  to  the  want  of  bounties, 
Mr.  £.  attributes  the  <'  turbulent  and 
disorganizing  character,"  generally 
given  to  the  inhabitants.  Although 
he  says  he  is  '^  far  from  justifying 
any  opposition  by  force  -to  laws 
constitutionally  enacted  ;"  yet  he 
often  apologises,  and  thinks  that 
unless  this  tax  should  be  repealed, 
the  worst  consequences  would  fol- 
low. The  climate  is  good,  and 
generally  healthy,  although  bilious 
complaints  are  frequent  at  Cincin- 
nati and  Louisville.  The  Ohio 
in  summer  is  shallow  ;  but  in  the 
spring,  vi^els,  built  on  the  river, 
have  thence  sailed  loaded  for  the 
West  Indies.  At  the  end  of  this 
account  is  a  map  of  the  Ohio,  upon 
a  large  scale,  in  which  those  parts, 
which  are  not  drawn  from  ac- 
tual survey,  arc  left  unshaded, 
by  which  means  we  perceive  at 
once  how  far  the  map  is  to  be  de- 
pended upon  ;  and  future  travel- 
lers may  know  where  their  labours 
will  be  of  most  advantage.  It  is 
miK:h  to  be  regretted,  that  this  ex- 
cellent method  is  not  more  gene- 
rally pursued. 

The  second  chapter  commences 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  in  Lat. 
37<»  0'  23"  N.  and  Long.  8S*>  sa 
42"  W.  from  Greenwich.  The 
cold  was  here  so  intense,  that  on 
the  22d  of  December,  both  the 
Ohio  and  Mississippi  were  com- 
pletely frozen,  and  remained  in 
that  state  four  days,  and  the  ice 
was  not  broken  up  in  the  former 
river  till  the  20  of  January  follow- 
ing. At  this  place  were  a  num- 
ber of  Indians  fix)m  the  west  side 
of  the  Mississipf  I,  to  whom  a  Mr. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


Mt 


ELLICOTV*!  iOJmWMJ^ 


Nolkn  (who  wm  w'M  Mr.  E.>j 
spoke  in  several  Indian  tengna^v 
but  which  they  did  not  understand. 
He  "  then  addressed  them  bjr  signs, 
to  which  they  immediately  replied^ 
and  conyersed  for  some  tine  wkk 
apparent  ease  and  sat]s£Eu:tioil.'' 
H^  intormed  our  author,  that "  this 
curious  language  Was  used  by 
many  nations  on  the  west  side  of 
the  Mississippi,  who  could  only  be' 
understood  by  each  other  in  tliat 
way,  and  that  it  was  commonly 
made  use  of  in  transatiing  their 
national  concerns."  We  arc  re- 
ferred by  Mr.  E.  to  a  paper,  for- 
warded to  the  American  Philo- 
iophicaf  Society,  by  WilHam  Dun- 
bar, Esq.  for  a  more  particular  ac- 
count of  this  language.  In  this 
chapter  commences  the  ofikial  cor- 
respondence between  Mr.  Ellicott 
and  the  officers  of  the  Spviish  gov- 
ernment, relattre  to  the  running 
of  the  boundary  line,  and  the  e- 
vacuation  of  the  posts  on  the  cast 
side  of  the  Mississippi,  alx)ve  the 
31®  of  north  latitude.  This  cor- 
respondence, with  the  observations 
upon  it, occupies  a  large  portion  of 
the  remainder  of  the  volume  ;  but 
the  publick  had  before  been  made 
acquainted  with  the  motives  of  the 
Spanish  government,  in  a  much 
clearer  and  more  concise  manner, 
from  the  reports  of  the  secretary 
of  state,  which  are  accompanied 
by  a  part  of  these  letters,  as  docu- 
ments. If  these  reports,  with  a 
few  explanatory  remarks,  or  a 
brief  statement  of  the  business, 
had  been  published  in  the  text,  and 
the  letters  been  added  in  an  appen- 
dix, the  reader  would  have  been 
saved  a  vast  deal  of  unnecessary 
labour.  The  inhabitants  of  the 
ceded  territory  had  long  been  se- 
cretly murmuring  at  the  delay 
-  of  their  becoming  American  citi- 
xens,  when  being  excited  by  the 
hasty  confinement  of  a  tuibulent 


-Mkd  iiAOBdealed  preacher^  tMr 
mrmars  were  eonveited  into  opoa 
oppositkha  to  tbe  Spaai^  gafem- 
ment.  The  Spsnab  officers  in> 
flamed  the  ^•contents  by  tlicir 
violent  coodoct,  sod  thcA  rii«t 
themselves  up  in  the  fort,  to  avoid 
the  fiiry  they  had  excited^  ami  the 
inkabitaots  embodied  themtelveft 
into  companies  of  ndlitb.  By  the 
lAterfercnce  of  Mr.  Ellicott,  m  coflw 
promise  was  made,  acomsuctea 
was  chN)sen  by  the  people,  wha  es- 
tablished a  species  of  neutndkyf 
which  was  sanctioned  by  tile  gov* 
emour,  who  then  issued  his  procla- 
mation for  the  elecdon  of  a  pcrma* 
nent  committee.  ^  The  electka 
of  this  committee,'*  Mr.  E.  saySj 
M  as  was  really  intended  on  my 
part,  put  the  finishing  stroke  ta 
the  Spanish  authority  and  juris* 
diction  in  this  disti  ict."  Mr.  E. 
and  the  commander  of  the  Amer- 
ican troops  were  added  as  sKm^ 
bers  to  both  these  committees. 

Our  author  thinks,  that  nothing 
new  would  be  expected  from  him, 
respecdng  the  Mississippi  ;  but 
from  his  peculiar  advantages  be 
might  have  obtained  much  valua- 
ble information  respecting  tWs  ex-* 
tensive  river.  By  his  account, 
we  learn,  that  the  confluence  ef 
the  Ohio  with  the  Mississippi  is  aei* 
ther  grand  nor  romantick.  Those 
rivers  unite  their  waters  in  a 
swamp  from  36  to  45  miles  wide  » 
and  which  is  several  feet  un^r 
water  at  every  annual  inundatioD, 
which  is  complete  between  the 
last  of  February  »)d  the  DiMie  c^ 
May,  and  generally  subsidies  dtv* 
ing  the  month  of  August.  Its 
mean  perpendicular  height  si 
Natchez  is  about  fifty^vo  feet. 
He  says,  "  in  descending  the  riYef 
you  meet  with  but  little  variety  ;  a 
few  of  the  sand  bars  and  islaikis 
will  give  you  a  sample  of  the  whole^ 
When  the  water  is  low,  jom  hatf 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


maxumonnrm  jommuLU 


Ml 


&%h  wmddf  baiik%  qniek  lands^ 
and  sand  faer»  ^  and  wIko  fuU^  yoii 
BUght  almost  as  welt  be  a«  aca  ; 
for  days  together  y«tt  w^  fioot 
witbout  meetSDg  "with  any  thin^ 
Ufee  soil  m  the  xi^r^  and  at  the 
nme  time  be  enviixmed  by  an  un- 
inhabitable and  aihnost  impenetra* 
hlo  vildemess."  The  mer  is 
craeked,  and  frequently  changes 
ks  course,  when  the  old  bed  is  con'* 
verted  into  a  lake.  Its  banks  like^ 
wise  are  liable  to  be  undermined, 
and  then  become  dsoigerous  td 
boats,  that  may  chance  to  approach 
them.  The  navigadon  between 
the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  and  Wal- 
fiut  hilts  (one  of  the  posts  afier<» 
wards  delivered  up  by  the  Spanish) 
is  rendered  dangerous  by  «  saw- 
yers and  planters  ;"  the  former 
are  trees  slightly  ^confined  to  the 
bottom  by  their  roots,  which  con- 
tinue a  vibrating  motion  with  their 
tops  ;  the  latter  are  trees  firmly 
fixed  to  the  bottom,  but  by  day- 
light are  easily  avoided.  The 
banks  are  higher  than  the  adjacent 
country,  and  in  times  of  inunda- 
tion a  current  sets  into  the  woods 
with  sufficient  velocity  to  turn  a 
mill.  Its  waters  are  discharged 
hito  the  gulf  of  Menko  by  several 
channels.  The  first  branch  is  the 
ChafaUa,  which  leave!  the  Missis- 
sippi just  )i>elow  the  boundary. 
I'tiis  branch  is  not  navigable  on 
a<ecoiiiit  of  a  bridge^  continually 
inicreasitig  in  size,  formed  across 
it  by  drift  logs,  trees,  &c.  ;  but 
which  iiaight  be  removed.  From 
Ofthet*  traveHfcrs  we  learn  that  this 
obatmctioli  is  common  to  many 
of  the  rivers  in  this  part  of  the 
continent.  There  are  ^o  settle- 
Ihems  of  consequence  between  tl>e 
Ohto  and  Natchez.  This  ^stiict 
0f  Natchez  is  uncommonly  fertile ; 
btJt  as  it  IS  <»  high,  hilly,  and  bro- 
)ten,"  Mr.  E.  fears  the  soil  will  be 
hashed  away,  and  the  country  bc- 


eoinci  ksi  fntidiielittt.  This  ret 
laarkywe  owbi,  strudk  ut  rsithef 
od(idy»  The  dimate  is  variabfo  in 
winner,  but  hot  in  suflimor.  The 
mean  temperature  of  the  beat 
spring  and  well  water  in  tiie  lati^ 
Uide  of  31''  is  66*»  of  Farenikeit'a 
scale,  whereas  it  ia  only  $1^  in 
Pennsylvania. 

Having  spoken  of  the  Erst  Set* 
tlement  of  the  country,  and  of  the 
animals^  which  differ  but  fittle 
from  those  of  the  middle  states^ 
our  pkuthor  proceeds  to  mention 
the  impossibility  of  making  a  sur« 
vey  of  the  river,  on  or  near  the 
banks  ;  and  states  the  following 
ingenious  method  which  he  adopts 
ed  to  complete  his  map. 

The  mouth  of  the  Oluo,  and  town  of 
Natchez,  were  taken  as  ^veo  points^ 
both  as  to  latitude  and  longitude.  An 
excellent  surveying  compass,  corrected 
for  the  Ttriation  of  the  needle,  was  used 
in  taking  the  courses,  which  were  en<^ 
tered  in  time»  instead  of  space.  Every 
day,  when  the  svn  shone  at  noon>  hia 
meridional  altitude  was  taken  in  de»> 
cendjng  the  river. 

The  latitudes,  determined  by  thdse 
observations,  are  entered  on  the  chart 
of  the  river  at  the  places  where  the  ob- 
servations were  laade  ;  all  the  courses, 
between  each  two  of  those  points,  were 
protracted  in  time  instead  of  spacey 
that  is,  by  calling  thetime,spaoe  ;  etch 
set  of  courses  were  then  expanded  or 
contracted,  so  as  to  agree  with  the 
points  (Platitude,  to  winch  they  belong- 
ed From  the  number  of  latitude* 
taken,  we  expect  that  no  part  of  the 
river  vdlA  be  found  very  erroneous  in 
that  respect  t  so  a^uch  cannot  be  said 
in  favour  of  the  lonfi^udes,  except  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  Uid  the  town  of 
Natchez. 

Some  points  have  been  since 
corrected  from  the  observations  of 
Mr.  Farrar. 

We  shall  pass  without  observa- 
tion the  proceedings  of  the  per- 
manent committee,  and  the  oppo- 
sition they  met  with  from.&ction, 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


541 


BLLICATT's  lOUAVAt. 


as  they  have  kmg  ceased  to  be  in- 
teresting. The  inhabitants  of  this 
district}  according  to  our  authofi 
consist  of  persons  of  enterprise 
and  ambition,  of  not  a  few  who 
have  fled  from  justice,  or  from 
creditors,  and  of  American  refu- 
gees ;  and  few  will  dispute  his 
conclusion,  that  such  persons  are 
unfit  for  a  representative  govern- 
ment. 

Having  first  animadwrted  upon 
the  administration  of  Mr.  Adams, 
Mr.  E.  concludes  his  fifth  chap* 
ter  with  mentioning  the  evacua- 
tion of  the  Spanish  posts.  In  the 
succeeding,  he  commences  the 
object  of  his  mission,  having,  in 
concert  with  the  Spanish  com- 
missioner, determined  the  31°  of 
north  latitude  on  the  Mississippi, 
from  that  point  a  due  east  course 
was  run  for  the  boundary  line  be- 
tween the  United  States  and  Flor- 
ida. We  shall  not  follow  our  au- 
thor through  this  rout  ;  but  shall 
only  notice  some  of  the  principal 
facts,  and  the  manner  in  which  he 
proceeded.  The  difficulty  of  run- 
ning the  line  is  thus  described. 

The  first  twenty  mjles  of  country, 
over  which  the  line  passed,  is  perhaps 
ES  fertile  as  any  in  the  United  States, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  most  impen- 
etrable, and  could  only  be  explored  by 
using  the  cane,  knife,  and  hatchet 
The  whole  face  of  the  country  beinjjf 
covered  with  strong  canes,  which  stood 
almost  as  close  together  as  hemp  stalks, 
and  generally  from  twenty  to  thirty 
five  feet  hig:h,  and  matted  togethef  by 
various  species  of  vines,  that  connected 
them  with  tlie  bougfhs  of  lofty  timber, 
which  was  very  abundant  The  hills 
are  numerous,  short  and  steep  ;  from 
tlicsc  untoward  circumstances  we  were 
scarcely  ever  able  to  open  one  fourth 
of  a  mile  per  day,  and  frequently  much 
less. 

Arrived  at  the  Pearl  river,  our 
author  determined  to  go  to  New 
Orleans  to  obtain  the  govemour's 


formal  approbation  of  whit  hst 
been  done,  and  to  procure  a  vessel, 
in  which  he  could  ascend  with  his 
instruments  and  baggage  the  vari- 
ous rivers  crossed  by  the  boundary 
line.  That  New  Orleans  coid« 
mands  the  trade  of  an  immense 
country  is  known  to  every  oae; 
and  our  author  justifies  the  prefer' 
ence  given  to  the  panicular  spot 
on  the  river,  on  which  it  b  situat- 
ed. The  town  is  regular,  but  its 
streets  narrow  ;  in  summer  it  is 
hot  and  disagreeable,  but  in  win- 
ter, to  use  Mr.  E.'s  own  words, 
'^  it  then  abounds  with  health,  and 
a  variety  of  well  conducted  amuse- 
ments, which  are  encouraged  and 
protected  by  the  government.**— 
Coasting  vessels  from  the  eastward 
go  to  New  Orleans  by  lake  P(»- 
chartrain,  and  a  canal,  connecting 
tliat  lake  and  the  city,  and  thereby 
avoid  the  tedious  navigation  of  the 
Mississippi.  Mr.  E.  took  the  com- 
mand himself  of  the  vessel^O^Wch 
he  proceeded  from  New  Orleans ; 
because  he  thought  it  would  be 
more  economical,  as  the  masters 
at  that  city  were  exorbitant  in  their 
demands.  On  each  pf  the  rivers 
the  3 1®  of  north  latitude  was  de- 
termined from  astronomical  obser- 
vations, and  a  surveyor  was  seata- 
cross  to  carry  a  guide  line,  which, 
when  not  found  exact,  was  correct- 
ed back,  and  mounds  of  earth  were 
erected  at  the  end  of  each  mile. 
The  Pearl  and  Pascagola,  the  Mo- 
bile and  Tensaw,  formed  by  the 
Tombeckby  and  Alabama,  the 
Cocnecuh  and  Chattahocha  rivers, 
are  all  navigable  above  the  boun- 
dary. Their  banks  are  low,  ex* 
tremely  fertile,  and  subject  to  an- 
nual inundations  ;  but  the  high 
lands  between  them  are  unproduc- 
tive. At  the  Chattahocha,  Mr.  E, 
was  plundered  by  the  Indians.— 
This  river,  from  the  31°  of  north 
latitude,  down  to  the  mouth  of  fun' 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


BlLIf OTTS  J017R1fA&. 


Ul 


HitTy  constitutes  a  part  of  the 
boundar74inet  which  was  thence  to 
pass  to  the  source  of  the  St.  Mary's, 
which  then  divides  the  two  coun- 
tries to  the  ocean.  Our  author's 
sea  journal  from  the  Chattahocha 
to  the  St.  Mary's  is  generally  te- 
dious and  uninteresting.  On  his 
passage  he  observed  a  very  singu- 
lar appearance  in  the  heavens^ 
which  he  thus  describes  :— 

About  two  o'clock  in  the  rooming,  I 
was  called  up  to  see  the  shooting  of  the 
Btars,  as  it  was  vulgarly  termed.  The 
phenomenon  was  grand  and  awful ;  the 
whole  heavens  appeared  as  if  illuminat- 
ed with  sky  rockets,  flying  in  an  infinity 
of  directions,  and  I  was  in  constant  ex- 
pectation of  some  of  them  falling  on  the 
vessel  They  continued,  till  put  out  by 
the  light  of  the  sun,  after  day  break. 
This  phenomenon  extended  over  a  large 
portion  of  the  West-India  islands,  and 
was  observed  as  far  north  as  St  Mary's, 
where  it  appeared  as  brilliant  as  with 
us.  During  this  singular  appearance, 
the  wind  shifted  from  the  south  to  the 
north,  and  the  thermometer,  which  had 
been  at  86®  for  four  days  past,  fell  to  56°. 

Mr.  £.  does  not  attempt  to  ac- 
count for  this  appearance,  but  only 
mentions  the  theoretick  conjecture 
of  Lavoisier,  that  the  air  consists 
of  different  strata,  as  more  satis- 
factory to  him  than  any  other.  In 
favour  of  that  theory,  which  at- 
tributes the  Gulf  Stream  to  a  ro- 
tary motion  in  the  Atlantick  ocean, 
aided  by  the  trade  winds,  he  ad- 
vances some  plausible  arguments. 
Our  author  thinks  neither  West 
or  East  Florida  of  much  conse- 
quence in  themselves.  The  for- 
mer, except  on  the  Mississippi,  is 
but  very  thinly  populated,  and  the 
coast  of  the  latter  is  entirely  unin- 
habited, and  in  possession  of  the 
privateersmen  of  the  Bahama  inl- 
ands, who  plunder  it  of  its  limber. 
West  Florida'  is  of  consequence 
from  the  passage  through  it  of  the 
rivers  mention^  above,  which  con-* 


nect  a  fine  and  extensive  tract  of 
country  within  the  United  Stated 
with  the  ocean.  East  Florida  de- 
rives its  importance  from  being 
calculated  to  give  security  to  the 
trade,  that  the  atlantick  states  ca^r- 
ry  on  with  the  western,  and  with 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  The  source 
of  the  St.  Mary's  was  determined 
by  the  commissioners  to  be  some*- 
where  in  the  Okofbnoke  swamp  ? 
but  as  it  was  impossible  to  enter 
the  swamp  at  that  season,  a  moutid 
was  erected  on  the  west  side  of  the 
main  outlet ;  and  it  was  agreed, 
that  a  line  should  be  run  from  that 
mound  in  a  north-east  direction 
two  miles,  at  the  termination  of 
which,  it  should  meet  the  line  from 
Flint  river.  Thus  end  Mr.  E.'a 
ofiicial  labours.  To  this  account 
he  adds  a  short  list  of  plants,  in  a 
note  to  which,  he  confutes,  by  the 
mention  of  the  Notes  on  Virginia^ 
the  opinion,  which,  he  says,  Mons. 
Buffon,  and  other  celebrated  Eu- 
ropean writers,  have  held,  that  A- 
merican  genius  was  inferiour  to 
that  of  the  old  world. 

The  prevailing  disorders  of  the 
country  are  fevers,  by  which  our 
author  lost  sevei'al  of  his  people  at 
Natchez.  He  preserved  himself 
from  them  by  Dr.  Rush's  pillSf 
till,  when  they  were  exhausted,  he 
himself  likewise  was  attacked.  Hit 
journal  by  sea  back  to  Philadel- 
phia concludes  the  work.  The 
appendix  contains  the  state  of  the 
weather  and  thermometer  for  each 
day,  the  astronomical'observations, 
and  the  calculations  from  those 
observations,  by  a  reference  to 
which  their  accuracy  may  be  de- 
termined. It  contains  likewise 
maps  of  the  boundary  line  o^  a 
large  scale. 

The  maps,  which  are  all  well  ex- 
ecuted/and  bear  internal  marks'  of 
accuracy,  must  be.  considered  asr 
valuable  addiiions  to  our  geo^ra- 


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#44 


woi 


»U*rfl|BAf.  dtMlVlRT. 


phf  4  kiH4ke  work  11  Behher  la* 
ftercaliQgytior  dees  kcntnaki  much 
important  iafeitnatioB.  In  ^ur 
pMsi^e  down  the  Ohioi  there  are 
Wt  few  objects  to4eUanottralteii* 
tioQy  end,  laiioched  into  the  Mis« 
fianppi,  we  aiifht  ftlmost  «s  woJi 
he  at  tea.  The  dehgrs  of  the  dc 
peaient  S^aniah  govtfnnoent  h^ 
before  been  made  pubtick,  and 
had  therefore  lost  «Hich  of  their 
intiereat ;  awl  the  petty  disputes 
of  partjr  &ction  coaid  never  claim 
mcovi  than  a  local  consideratioju 
The  knowledge  of  the  coast  of 
Florida»  and  of  the  rivers  which 
discharge  themselves  into  the  f^if 
of  Mexico,  is  balanced  by  the  te- 
dfoos  diflioiiluea,  which  are  alwa>'s 
met  with  in  penetrating  uninhabit- 
ed deserts,  and  by  the  ban*enncss 
•f  a  sea-voyage.  The  comments 
are  few,  and  those  the  remarks  of 
a  common  mind.  The  language 
is  frequently  inelegant,  and  some- 
times incorrect.  The  passages, 
quoted  above,  we  believe  to  be  fair 
apeoimens  of  the  style,  which  never 
rises  above  plain  narration.  Upon 
the  whole,  we  must  conclude,  that 
the  work  is  very  much  Inferiour 
to  what  it  ought  to  have  been  ; 
add  that  a  small  pamphlet,  with 
the  maps*  which  we  must  again 
call  vaiuable,  would  have  contain- 
ed d's  much  information  as  the 
qisarto,  through  which  we  have  la* 
houred. 


ART.   55. 

A  TrfatiK  concerning  JPokticai  In* 
gwn/yand  the  liberty  qf  the  press » 
(Bg  Tunis  Wortman^  cwai^eltof 
€t  lav,  New-Yoi4  2  George 
Forman.     1800. 

WE  never  made  a  worse  b«u*gahi 
with  an  honest  man,  thioi  when 
we  gave  the  bookselksr  one  bund- 
led centsi  for  Wortman's  Political 


Inquvy  ;  «nd  yal,  if  inothkif  Ms 
(he  q«aiit]Cf  •f ^msebercguMfVl 
are  iiifdly  lasers  by  the  tsxkuaist, 
Mr.  WortmaB^s  hook  has  di  the 
the  properties  of  a  cent,  except  iti 
Gurjitncy,  and  its  'value.'  it  has  ti 
dull  a  countenance,  and  as  dnssy 
and  Gumbrous  a  nature.  One  cm 
hat>dly  be  persuaded  to  read  tbe 
first  paragmph  of  a  veiume  of  300 
paf^es,  when  the  prefect  oontuoi 
an  insolent  boast,  under  the  name 
ef  an  apology,  that  the  work  is 
produced  in  a  few  idle  hours,  wifh-f 
out  care  or  attention.  **  It  is  but 
justioe,**  says  Mr.W."  to  observe, 
that  the  following  pages  have  <Xi* 
ly  occupied  tbe  leisure  momcntti 
of  less  than  four  months,  and  been 
written  amidst  the  constant  btcr- 
ruption  of  business."  There  was 
no  necessity  for  this  baste— 00  ea* 
ger  impatience  of  the  pobfid 
drove  Mr.  W.  to  the  pre&s.  !t  it 
effrontery  to  introduce  to  thf  woridt 
under  the  imposing  tide  of  1 
**  Political  Inquiry,"  a  ^luiM» 
composed  in  a  time  almost  too 
short  for  an  aimahuensis  to  copy  its 
Images.  The  aflectation  of  wri* 
ting  quick  is  contemptible  ;  yet  in 
this  country  it  too  fii^enlly  ssp* 
plies  the  ambition  of  writing  »<* 
Th fitaiitmtm  currtns  is  fordcrics 
and  secretaries,  not  for  those  vho 
wouW  instruct  or  inform  mankiod. 
But,  perhaps,  it  is  well  that  Mr. 
W.  published  thus  hastily,  fer  tf 
he  had  taken  longer  time,  there  ii 
reason  to  fear,  tJtMt,  instead  of  wrk- 
kig  Setter^  he  would  have  wiittes 
more. 

It  is  difacult  to  my  what  *• 
W.'s  book  is,  or  to  whst  cU«  f 
prodnciione  it  belongs.  Thm 
would  be, 

*•  to  gine  to  nhy  nofliHiy 

A  looAl  kftldtation  and  a  ntfne*' 

Its  most  sisriking  chsfseteristick  is 
the  abseooeof  ideas.  The  leadcr 
wades  through  it,  meeting  only  itt 


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WORTMAN's   POlilTICAL   INqUlRY. 


545 


^rtftt  intfeirais  iifhh  a  sehtiihenb, 
wbich  dticrVcfi  either  censure  or 
t|)probatiGn.  It  is  a  va^  Serbdr 
nian  b6g^  where  there  h  nothing  to 
kktr  lip  his  steps.  Evcrf  thing 
ainkii  bentath  Mm,  nor  cka  the  eye 
giahce  hr  enough  to  bMioId  an 
inch  of  solid  grrimid^  on  i^hich  t6 
Tf^ii  its  hopes.  Dechimation,  with- 
out genius  or  spirit^  fitlse  reason- 
ings without  ingencdty  enough  to 
be  called  so|»histry,  and  an  invieter- 
«te  ho.^tility  to  the  rules  of  gram- 
mar and  composition,  are  princi- 
pal features  in  tffis  performance. 
In  the  very  fir«  paragraph  he  val- 
oroiisly  takes  ap  arms  against  the 
"  ni^aarchick  s^ay"  of  grtfhmar. 
«  We  wti  [shall]  neither  be  able 
to  reflect  with  fedfcoracy/'  &c. 

In  the  same  page  he  says, "  Po- 
ihtoal  institmitm  should  emfihat- 
itaiiy  be  considered  as  that  soieinctf, 
which  proposes  for  iti  object  thfe 
^otiiotidn  of  gfenewl  fblicity." — 
Words  May  b«  em/ihaticatly  spok- 
en, 8^  pefhaps^  by  a  figure,  em*- 
/ihatically  wHnap,  but  Who  erer 
fa^atd  of  considering^  or  deliberat- 
ing on  a  subject  emfihaticalhf  ^•— 
Yet,  as  Mr.  W.  has  no  emphasis 
m  his  book)  perhaps  we  ought  to 
ifKkiige  him  in  claiming  it  for  his 
k/rtdtt. 

Farther  on,  he  says,<(  civil  soci- 
ety, as  well  as  her  mtet  scieH- 
ces"  I  &c. 

We  open  the  book,  by  accident, 
at  the  65th  |>age,  and  from  that, 
and  those  immedidte^y  following, 
win  transcribe  a  few  paragraphs, 
s»  specimens  of  Mr.  W.'s  style 
and  sentiments.  The  first  sen- 
tence which  meets  our  eye  is  this. 
Speaking  of  poetry  and  metaphy- 
flictes,  he  observes,  '^  such  are  the 
iCodieS  which  eHrde  the  utmost 
fitqftttkiity  of  intellect"  !  He  pro- 
ceeds. «  Not  so  with  rational  pol- 
iticks. Erery  truth  is  luminous  ; 
eftqr  principle  is  cteaitf  per$picu- 
Vol.  III.  No.  10.         3VV 


ous,  and  determinable  ;  its  doc- 
trines are  established  in  the  com- 
mon sentiment  and  feelings  of 
ihankind  ;  its  positions  are  main- 
taibed  and  enforced  by  universal 
experience." 

Does  not  Mr.  W»  know  that  po- 
litical science  has,  more  than  any 
bther,  divided  the  opinions  of  mau- 
kindj  atid  thc^,  after  a  dbcussioA 
of  many  centuries,  very  few  prin- 
ciples are  yiet  settled  ?  What  "po- 
sition" of  politicks  is  maintained  by 
universal  experience  ?  Can  he 
name  one,  that  has  been  received 
by  the  one  milliomh  part  of  the 
population  of  the  world  since  the 
ci*eation  ? 

Ill  page  67  are  these  shrewd  ^e- 
marks.  «' Man,  therefore,  is  the 
only  actor  upon  whatever  theatre 
Oilman  Conduct  is  destined  to  be- 
come e^thibi  ted.  To  whatevei'obr 
ject  our  imagination  is  extended, 
to  the  statesman  in  the  cabinet, 
the  philosopher  in  his  closet,  or 
the  hero  in  the  field  ;  wherever 
we  direct  our  contemplation,  to 
battles  M)d  to  sieges,  negociations 
or  hostility,  treaties  of  peace,  con- 
vention of  commerce,  or  declara- 
tion of  war  ;  it  is  tnan  that  acts 
and  suffers." 

Wonderful  counsellor  !  Have 
you  then  discovered  that  human 
beings  alotie  can  be  the  authors  of 
Jiuman  actions  ? 

^age  68.  «  The  duties  attach- 
ed to  the  intercourse  of  nationa 
•and  individuals,  arise  from  the 
identical /buntain  of  obU^ationy  and 
must  therefore  be,  in  a  great  mea- 
sure, familiar  to  every  understand- 
ing." 

Page  69.  «  Without  preten- 
sions to  superiour  discernment,  ev- 
ery person  can  as  easily  j>erceive 
what  conduct  in  one  nation  vioSates 
the  rights,  and  operates  to  the  det- 
riment of  another,  or  what  acts  of  a 
governijient  infalUbjy  terminate  in 


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546 


scott's  lay  or  thb  last  mihitvel. 


personal  injury  and  oppression. 
Hence  then  k  is  an  obvious  posi- 
tion, that  every  intelligent  being 
must  necessarily  possess  a  sufiv- 
cient  standard  of  political  discrim- 
ination .  Can  the  obstinacy  of  scep- 
ticism demand  still  farther  illus- 
tration ?'*  No,  no,  illustrious  Tu- 
nis, the  "  obstinacy  of  scepticism" 
is  a  weak,  shivering  victim  beneath 
the  scjmeter  of  such  logick.  It 
doubts  of  nothing  while  you  rea- 
son, although  you  sliould  attempt 
to  prove  the  muddiness  of  your 
own  brain. 

In  page  171  are  the  following 
sentiments,  which  come '  fresh  and 
strong'  from  the  school  of  God- 
win. "  It  has  been  rendered  suf- 
ficiently plain,  that  a  virtuous  gov- 
ernment cannot  become  materially 
injured  by  misrepresentation  ;  for 
the  most  acrimonious  and  violent 
invectives  will  be  the  most  open  to 
detection.  Why  then  should  pun- 
ishment be  inflicted  ?  Will  the 
confinement  of  my  body  within  a 
prison,  or  the  removal  of  my  pro- 
perty to  the  publick  treasury,  ren- 
der me  a  better  man  ?  Will  such 
severity  be  calculated  to  conciliate 
my  affections  towards  the  govern- 
ment ?  or  will  it  be  likely  to  inspire 
me  with  lasting  resentment  ?  If  I 
have  been  guilty  of  malicious  de- 
traction, let  coi'roding  Envy,  sick- 
ening Jealousy,  and  vulture  pas- 
sions torture  and  prey  upon  my 
heart.  Believe  me,  I  should  be 
punished  by  misery  more  agravat- 
ed,  than  the  horrours  of  an  inquisi- 
tion." 

This  is  genuine.  The  disciple 
has  excelled  the  master.  These 
sentiments  are  too  good  to  die  with 
a  first  reading.  Let  us  view  them 
in  another  shape.  The  doctrines, 
which  Tunis  so  ingeniously  applies 
to  cases  of  malicious  libel,  must  be 
equally  applicable  to  other  trans- 
gressions of  the  law.      On  mur- 


der, for  instance,  he  would  reason  nn 
the  same  way.  "  It  kas  been  ren- 
dered sufficiently  plain,  that  society 
cannot  be  matenaily  injured  by  the 
death  of  one  individual :  for  the 
most  barbarous  and  violent  dcreds 
will  be  the  most  open  to  detection. 
Why  then  should  punishment  be 
inflicted  on  a  murderer  ?  Will  the 
confinement  of  my  body  within  a 
prison,  will  chains  or  the  gallows 
render  me  a  better  roan  ?  Will 
such  severity  be  calculated  to  con- 
ciliate Biy  afiections  towards  so- 
ciety ?  or  will  it  be  likely  to  in- 
spire me  with  lasting  resentment  ? 
If  I  have  been  guilty  of  wilful 
murder,  let  corroding  Envy,  sick- 
ening Jealousy,  and  vulture  pas- 
sions torture  and  prey  upon  my 
heart.  Believe  me,  I  should  be 
punished  by  misery  more  ag^gra- 
vated,  than  all  the  horrours  of 
hemp"  III 

Such  are  the  torrents  of  non- 
sense, which  a  man,  who  calls 
himself  a  counaellor^  is  capable  of 
pouring  forth,  as^  subject  closely 
connected  with  his  professional 
studies. 

BeUct^e  usj  Mr.  Counsellor,  if 
these  be  your  sentiments,  the  cap 
and  bells  would  become  you  more 
than  the  long  robe,  and  you  would 
shew  better  in  Bedlam,  than  the 
Forum. 


ART.   56. 
The  Lay  of  the  l.ant  Mimtrelym 
/loenty  by    IValter   Scotty  £^q,^^ 
Hugh    Maxwell,   Philadelphia. 
12mo.     1805. 

This  work  is  neatly  and  accu- 
rately re-printed,  and  is  a  good 
specimen  of  the  rapid  progress, 
which  this  country  is  making  to- 
waixls  typographical  excellence. 

European  Reviewers  hare  so 
justly  displayed  the  beauties,  and 


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SCOTT's  lay  Ot  THE   LAST  MINSTREL. 


Sit 


appreciated  the  merits  of  this  in- 
teresting composition,  that  we  hare 
Kttle,  if  any  thing,  to  add  to  their 
remarks  ;  but  we  cordially  join 
them  in  praising  a  poem,  which 
has  afforded  us  exquisite  pleasure, 
and  which  '^  has  raised  its  author 
to  a  permanent  rank  among  the 
classical  poets  of  his  country.^ 

In  towns,  where  trade  occupies 
every  thought,  at  all  times  and 
seasons,  and  in  every  company 
monopoHecs  the  greatest  share  of 
conversation  ;  where  its  maxims 
and  spirit  pervade  every  class  of 
society,  and  would  confine  all  men- 
tal exertion  within  its  own  con- 
tracted sphere  ;  it  must  -be  pecu- 
liarly gratifying  to  the  few,  whose 
faculties  are  not  shackled  and  be- 
numbed, to  read  of  other  times, 
x>f  other  manners,  of  other  men  ; 
with  different  objects  in  view,  with 
more  ardent,  as  well  as  nobler  pas- 
sions ;  and  whose  vices,  while 
they  neither  exceeded  in  number 
or  enormity  those  of  later  times, 
ivere  balanced  by  many  virtues  ; 
among  which  unbounded  gene- 
rosity, steady  friendship,  faithful 
love,  and  heroick  valour,  shone 
conspicuous.  It  is  therefore  with 
great  satisfaction,  that  we  strongly 
recommend,  to  the  rising  genera- 
tion particularly,  this  vivid  effort 
of  genius  and  learning ;  but  as  it 
is  probable  moi«  attention  will  be 
paid  to  sam/ihsy  than  to  mere  re- 
commendation, we  shall  select  a 
few  specimen^)  and  vouch  for  thp 
goodness  of  the  whole. 

The  introduction  is  poetical  and 
interesting  in  the  highest  degree. 
An  aged  Mbistrel,  wanderin^q;  near 
the  Castle  of  Branksome,  was  ad- 
mitted by  the  Dutchess  of  Bucr 
cleugh,  and,  after  beuig  hospitably 
treated,  to  gratify  her  and  her  la- 
dies, he  sings  to  his  harp  a  tale 
/of  arms  and  chivalry,  in  which  the 


names  and  actions  of  her  ancestors 
are  commemorated. 

Amid  the  strings  his  fingers  strayed. 
And  an  nncertain  warbling  made — 
And  ofl  he  shook  his  hoary  head. 
But  when  he  caught  tlie  measure  \wld. 
The  old  man  raised  his  face,  and  smiled. 
And  lightened  up  his  faded  eye. 
With  all  a  poet's  ecstacy  ! 
In  varying  cadence,  sofl  or  strong. 
He  swept  the  sounding  chords  along ; 
The  present  scene,  the  future  lot. 
His  toils,  his  wants,  were  all  forgot ; 
Cold  diffidence,  and  age's  frost. 
In  t|ie  full  tide  of  song  were  lost 
Each  blank,  in  faitliless  memory  void. 
The  poet's  glowing  thought  supplied ; 
And,  while  his  harp  responsive  rung, 
'Twas  thus  the  latest   Minstrel 
sung.  P.  12. 

Those,  who  have  any  relish  for 
the  beautiful  and  sublime,  will  be 
charmed  with  his  desctiption  of 
Melrose  abbey. 

If  thou  wonldst   View    fair  Melrose 

aright. 
Go  visit  it  by  the  pale  moon-light ; 
For  the  gay  beams  of  lightsome  day 
Gild,  but  to  flout,  the  ruins  g^ay. 
When  the  broken  arches  are  black  in 

night, 
And  each  shafted  oriel  glimmers  white  ; 
When  tlie  cold  light'sAincertain  shower 
Streams  on  the  ruined  central  tower  ; 
When    buttress    and  t  buttress,   alter- 
nately, 
Seem  framed  of  ebon  and  ivory  ; 
When  silver  edges  the  imager)'. 
And  tlie  scrolls  tJiat  teach  thoc  to  live 

and  die  ; 
When  distant  Tweed  is  heard  to  rave. 
And  the  owlet  to  hoot  o'er  the  dead 

man's  grave  ; 
Then  go — but  go  alone  the  while- 
Then  view  Saint  David's  ruined  pik, 
And,  home  returning,  soothly  swear. 
Was  never  scene  so  sad  and  fair  ! 

P.  33. 

But  the  imaj^ery  and  language 
in  the  following  pages  are  awful 
and  tenifick  in  the  extreme,  when 
William  of  Deloraine,  who  was 
sent  to  the  monk  of  St.  Mary's 
aiiile,  opens  the  tomb  of  the  cele- 


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^8 


scorr's  lay  6f  «hb  hjkvi  mvvmsft. 


braied  Michael  Scot,  to  lake  fitmi 
thence  his  book  of  magick. 

The  pi^ared  HTcM^  F?r«  9V«i?  t^«i» 

head. 
And  beneath  their  feet  wer«  tl^  bpyi^g 

of  the  dead — 

—Still  spoke  the  monk,  when  the  bel^ 

tolled  one  ! — 
I  tell  you  that  a  braver  man 
Than  William  of  Delorainie,  gpod  ^t 

neeri, 
Ag'ainst  a  foe  ne'er  spiirred  a  steed  ! 
Yet   somewhiit  was    he  chilkd  "Mritb 

dread, 
And  his  hair  did  bristle  upon  his  h^ad. 

^  Lo,  warrior  !  now  the  cross  of  red 
Points  to  tlic  ^ave  of  the  mighty  dead ; 
Within  it  bums  a  wondcrous  light    . 
"fa  chase  the  sj/iritstliat  love  the  night: 
Til  at  lamp  shall  bum  unquenchabi)'. 
Until  the  eternal  doom  shall  be." 
Slow  moved  the  monl^  to  tJie  b|roa4 

flag-stone, 
\Vhich  tlie    bloody  cross  waa  tr^ed 

upon  ; 
He  pointed  to  a  secret  nook  ; 
A  bar  from  thence  tlie  warrior  took  ; 
And  tlie  monk  made  a  sign  witli  lii^ 

witJiered  hand. 
The  grave's  huge  portal  to  exps^ld. 

With  beating   heart,  to  the   task   he 

went  ; 
Hi#  vncwy  fraipe  o'er  the  g^ave-stone 

bent ; 
With  bar  of  iron  heaved  amain. 
Till  the  toil -drops  fell  from  his  brows 

like  rain. 
It  was  by  dint  of  passing  strength, 
That  he  moved   tlie    massy  atone  at 

length. 
I  would  you  had  been  there  to  see, 
How  the  light  broke  forth  so  gloriously  j 
Streamed  upward  to  the  chancel  roo^ 
And  tlirough  the  galleries  far  aloof ! 
No  eartldv  flaipe  blazed  e'er  so  bright : 
It  shone  hke  heaven's  own  blessed  light ; 

And  issuing  from  the  tomb. 
Shewed  the  monk's  cowl,  and  visage 

pale  ; 
Danced  on  the  dark-brow'd  warrior's 

mail. 
And  kissed  his  wa\'ing  plume. 

Before  their  eyes  the  wizard  lay. 
As  if  he  had  not  been  dead  a  day  : 


A  pa\me^>  amice  Vrapped  mm  ro^ii^ 
With  a  v^rought  Spanish  l^dric  bound. 

Like  a  pilgrim  from  beyond  ^e  sea : 
UU  left  hand  h^ld  1^  book  ff  miglit ; 
^  sUv^r  croMi  W9^  ij^  1^9  figbt : 

The  lamp  was  pfa^ei;^  henw  his  kne^  • 
Hig^  and  majesti9t;  ^ya8  his  look.    ^ 
At>liich  tK^  fellest  fiends  ha^  a^cAk  ; 
And  all  unruiBed  was  his  Hxsc — 
They  trusted  kk  soolkad  gottan  gcace 

im^insOipn  is  gr^a^j  QOVfifQ^ 
^nd  ^0Qth^4.  ^ith  ^e  teDden^cs 
oflpyewi^^^I-  Wl^Ci^aunctw 
fig^TeJ^U).hie  fo^n4  mf^  happi(f 
derignedt  ^  ^^Y  coniwiirted, 
^an  MM^ret  of  Brai?^)(i^(^e,  a&4 
«  Barou  H^^wyj  her  oTm  tree 
knight"? 

A  fairer  pi^  ^ere  never  seW 
To  m^et  bjcneath  the  hawll^om  gretn. 
He  was  stately  and  youngj  and  w  ; 
Dreaded  m  battle,  and  toved  m  kaB : 
And   she,    when  love,    scazce   taii, 

scarce  hid. 
Lent  to  Ij^er  cheek  a  liv«s]Uer  red ; 
When  the  half  sigh  her  swelling  hreart 
Against  the  sjU^en  ribband  prrs«rd ; 
When  her  blue  eves  their  secivt  uM, 
Though  shaded  by  her  k>cks  o£  goU,- 
Where  would  you  find  the  pecrife«fiu 
With  Margaret  of  Brank»ai«e  mj^ 
compare  !  P-  4* 

When  arrived  at  this  part  of 
his  lay,  the  old  Minstrel  br«dLsdi; 
and  observing  th^  interest  he  had 
excited  in  female  bosoms,  he  saysj 

And  now  fair  dames,  methinks  I  sec, 
You  listen  to  my  minstrelsy ; 
Your  waving  lo^ks  ye  backward  tkwv. 
And  sidelong  bend  your  necks  of  mm 

—Ye  ween  to  hear  a  tender  talc 

Alas !  fair  dames  your  hopes  are  rwn  ? 
My  haip  has  lost  the  endianfing  stnia : 

Its  lightness  would  my  age  repniir; 
My  liaics  arc  gray,  niy  limbs  arc  oW* 
My  heart  is  dead,  my  veins  m  coW— 

I  mav  not,  must  not,  sing  of  k>vc 

F.49. 


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•coTT^  UJr  «»  fiH^  ft4tv  ujjmnmt. 


xm 


UiiB  follgwing  fOMmile^  9Axwu 

And  said  I  Uudmy  liaibs  wese old  ; 
And  Hid  I  lMtw\y  Woodv»^<^ 
Anrf  that  my  ^^ndly  fire  w^aa  ^ed. 
And  my  poor  withered  h^art  was  deadj, 

Anithat  Imi^ht  not  sine  of  love  ? — 
How  could  I,  to  the  dearelt  theme. 
That  ever  warmed  a  minstrers  di*earo. 

So  foul,  BO  fabe,  a  recreant  prove  ! 
How  could  I  name  love's  very  name. 
Nor  wake  my  hacp  to  n^tes  of  flame  ! 

In  peace.  Love  tup^ea  the  shepherd's 

reed  ; 
In  wM*,  he  mounts  the  warrior's  steed ; 
In  haUs,  in  gay  attire  is  seen  ; 
In  hamlets,  dances  on  the  green. 
Lo\e  rulQS  th^  court,  the  campt  the 

grove. 
And  men  below,  and  saints  above  ; 
Fur  lov^  is  heaven,  and  heaven  is  love. 
P.  54. 

White  upon  this  subject,  "wc 
cannot  resist  transcribing  these 
beautiful  tines. 

— ^Troc  love's  the  gif\;  which  God  has 

given 
To.nun  alone  beneath  the  heaven. 
It  VI  not  Fantaay*a  hot  Are, 
Whose  'vriahes,  soon  as  granted*  fly  i 
It  llveth  not  in  fierce  desire, 
txx  dead  desire  it  doth  not  dde  ; 
It  is  the  secret  sympathy. 
The  silver,  chords  the  silken  tie, 
Which  heart  to  h^Mrt,  and  mind  to  n^Mid 
Is  body  aiu^  in  squI  ca^  hind 

Lesl^attei^tj^n,  ftlKMild  tsffeoc  a- 
b^^^thc;  poet  fr;equently  varies  bin 
Qie^^ji^i  but  it  is.  alws^ys  swe^t  aad 
in^knUou^y  j^dii^iouftly  a4apted;  t9 
tlie  dlffe^niipi^rts  of  bis  poem)  a^ 

p^i,^i^}t3i  of  a  pQ^  be  bfts  not  nug- 
l^t^tbir  sutioi;^^  art  q£  versir 
fip^bioA.  ThQi^h  bis  powers  iMi\' 
er  ^f ar  to  iiugg,  yeq  at,  Ha^  bc- 
$ini)i«>g  of  cvory  cantp  he  seeius 


t6  lio  Beiriy  famgonUti}  vui  tmna-' 
ported  wiih  freah  eatkuniaim  ;  A 
ther  bursiyig  upon  us  with  wiM 
abn^itocia^  or  stoaliag  on  tikci  ear 
in  strains  of  melting  tendf  raeaib 
At  the  conclusion  of  the  third, 
something,  wbkh  the  Imdm  ob* 
served,  recals.  ^o  tbe  Minstr^J'i 
memory  the  ftite  o(  bis  only  son, 
who  gLoir^u&ly  fell  in  baltle^  9f^ 
be  begins  the  fourth  in  sucb  strains 
of  simple  and  genuine  patbos,  as 
powerfuUy  awakea  the  reader'^ 
sympathy. 

Sweet  Tf  viot !  on  thy  lilv^  tidti 

The  glarij^  bale-%e^bU9e  np  n^pCQ  y 
No  longer  ste4-clad  warriors  ride 

Along  thy  wUd  awl  willo;wad  ^o^po  9 
Where'er  taou,  wind^  b^T  dal^or  hiJit, 
AU,  all  is  peaceful,  all  is  atill« 

Aa  if  thy  wavea,  since  Tiia«  wa 
bom. 
Since  first   they  rolled  their  way  t» 

Tweed, 
Had  only  heard  the  shephertf  s.  reet^ 

Nor  started  at  the  bugk-kom. 


Unlike  the  tide  of  human  i 
Which  though  it  change  in  ceaaeleM 

Retains  eacb  (rief,  retaina  eacb  Qciin^ 
ltd  earlieat  course  waa,  dmaof^dl  ^ 

know  » 
And)  dftfkier  a^  it  downward  b^aii^ 
Is  stained  with  paata^id  present  ttai^. 
Low.  aa  that  tide  baa  ^»bod^  ^thuM 
It  sUU  reflects  to  BAemoiy'a  eve 
The  liour  my  brave,  my  only  bqy. 

Fell  b}'  the  side  of  gi^eat  I)uHd<|e. 
Why,  when  the  voicing.  n>f)iil|eV  pl|^^ 

ed 
Against  the  hkio^  Hji^^nd  bl^t, 
WV  waanot  I  l|es«d^  hinpL  load^^ 
Enough*— lie  died  the  death  <rf  fiime  ; 
Enough — lie     died    with    conquering 

OrsBiBe.  F^  76. 

Tbe  sixth  canto  coisiuiences 
wiUv  itk€  indignanl  e^u^ons  o£  teal 
pattiotismi  wbicb  every  true  luver 
qi  bis  cquDtry  will  repeat  wiih 
pride  andpl^aurei  but  ivhicb  can 
bod  nothings  congenial  in.  the  bos* 
Qm»  of  the  unhfcrnfU  fMan(Jir^>fdittM 
of  the  prosiont  day^  w^  cull  aU 


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4S0 


BVirLArV  OUAMATKK  VORKft. 


those  conntriet  thdrt,  in  which 
their  own  chimerical  notions  of  lib- 
erty have  turned  the  people's  brains 
with  specious  and  mischievous  ab« 
surdity. 

Brsathes  there  the  nun*  with  toulso 

dead. 
Who  ncTer  to  himielf  htth  said. 

This  it  my  own  my  natire  laxul ! 
Whose  heart  hath  ne'er  within  him 

burned. 
As  home  his  footsteps  he  hath  turned. 
From  wanderii^  on  a  foreigpn  strand ! 
If  such  there  breathe,  go,  mark  him 

weU; 
For  him  no  minstrel  raptures  swell ; 
High  thoufffa  his  titles,  proud  his  name, 
Bo^dless  his  wealth  as  vnsh  can  claim ; 
Despite  those  titles,  power,  and  pelf, 
The  wretch,  concentered  all  in  self, 
Liring,  shall  forfeit  fair  renovm. 
And,  doubly  d}'ing,  shall  go  down 
To  the  \'ile  dust,  from  whence  he  sprung. 
Unwept,  unhonoured,  and  unsung. 

After  introducing  the  ballads  of 
three  different  bards,  he  finely  con- 
cludes with  the  following  hymn 
for  the  dead. 

That  day  of  wrath,  that  dreadRtl  day. 
When  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away. 
What  power  shall  be  the  sinners  stay  ? 
How  shall  he  meet  that  dreadful  day  ? 
When,  shrivelling  like  a  parched  scroll. 
The  flaming  heavens  together  roll  ; 
When  louder  yet,  and  yet  more  dread. 
Swells  the  high  trump,  that  wakes  the 

dead; 
O !  on  that  day,  that  wrathful  day. 
When  man  to  judgment  wakes  from 

clay. 
Be  thou  the  trembling  sinner*s  stay. 
Though  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass 

away!  P.  149. 

We  pretend  not  to  say  we  have 
selected  the  most  beautiful  passages 
of  this  delightful  poem,  but  they 
struck  us  as  possessing  great  force 
and  beauty  ;  nor  do  we  fear,  that 
those,  who  can  feel  with  the  poet, 
will  think  our  quotations  too  long, 
or  numerous.  If  our  admiration, 
warmly  expressed,  can  induce 
many  to  read  the  book,  it  may  kin- 


dle the  pure  and  ardent  flame  of 
native  genius  in  bosoms,  where 
the  spark  now  lies  dormant  ;  and 
the  view  of  its  rare  excellence  may 
repress  the  presumption  of  obtru- 
sive poetasters,  who  would  not 
pester  the  pubUck  with  so  many 
vapid  rhymes,  clumsily  strung  to- 
gether, did  they  not  mistake  pcrt- 
ness  and  self-conceit  for  brilliant 
talents  and  uncommon  powers. 


ART.  ST. 

The  Dramatick  Work*  of  Wimam 
Dunlafi^  in  ten  volumef^  voi,  I, 
contatmng'-^he  Father  qfan  only 
Child^  LeiceMteVy  FontamvilU  Jib» 
bey  J  Darby^9  Return,  Philadel- 
phia, printed  by  T.  &  G.  Palmer, 
-1 1 6,  High-street.     1 806. 

This  volume  contains  what  the 
author  seems  to  imagine  dramatick 
performances  ;  but,  in  truth,  it  af- 
fords only  four  farragos  of  non- 
sense, in  which  the  ;nost  essential 
laws  of  the  drama  are  altogether 
viulutcd,  and  the  rules  of  compod- 
tion  disregarded.  In  these  four 
«  plays" ybr  the  stage^  made  worthy 
of  it  by  «  eighteen  years'*  "  revi- 
sion and  attachment,"  taste,  wit, 
and  sentiment  take  no  part  ;  they 
do  not  once  enter  during  their 
whole  performance — for  Mr.  Dun- 
lap  has  very  ingeniously,  and  in  a 
manner  peculiar  to  himself,  ke/jt 
them  behind  the  scenes. 

It  might  seem  unjust  to  con- 
demn this  volume  altogether  ;  and 
no  doubt  It  will  appear  so,  particu- 
larly to  the  author,  who  "  cannot 
see  the  propriety  of  condemning  en 
maase,^  and  conjectures,  that  **  iiis 
readers  may  perhaps  be  tempted 
to  lament,  that  he  has  soared  so 
often  into  the  heaven  ofinvention.'' 
But  we  believe,  it  would  be  more 
unjust  to  weary  our  readers,  by 


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CA&T'S   ADDRlSt. 


*5I 


kading  their  attention  through 
Mr.  Dunlap's  endless  labyrinths  of 
nonsense.  If  it  can  be  any  satis- 
Action  for  him  to  know,  that  we 
have  waded  through  his  work,  he 
is  assured  of  it ;  and  we  mention 
it  particularly,  because  it  is  proba- 
ble he  will  never  hear  the  like  again. 
We  believe,  that  we  have  con- 
sulted his  interest,  when  we  con- 
demn it  en  moBse  ;  for,as  he  threat- 
ens the  publick  with  ten  volumes, 
an  analysis  of  the  first  would  never 
excite  a  curiosity  to  behold  its 
brethren. 

It  is  absolutely  scandalous  to  the 
republick  of  letters,  that  works 
like  this  should  be  suffered  to  issue 
from  the  press.  It  reflects  no 
credit  on  Mr.  D.  that, "  after  eigh- 
teen years  attachment  to  the  dra- 
ma, and  having  revised  these  plays 
to  the  best  of  his  abilities,"  he 
should  now  intrude  them,  unmean- 
ing as  they  are,  upon  the  patronage 
of  ihe  publick.  The  facility  of  pub- 
lication in  this  country  and  else- 
where, by  which  the  shelves  of 
the  booksellers  are  crowded  with 
double  tiersy  is  one  of  the  causes, 
which  increase  the  obscurity  of 
works  of  merit. 

We  have  considered  this  work 
as  to  its  stage  effect  and  as  to  its 
closet  effect,  and  the  only  effect, 
which  it  seems  likely  to  produce, 
is,  that  it  may  make  «  the  .unwary 
laugh,"  "  but  it  will  make  the  ju- 
dicious grieve"  ;  and  we  are  as 
fully  persuaded,  that  every  intelli- 
gent reader,  who  will  take  upon 
himself  the  task  of  a  Reviewer  and 
put  this  decision  to  the  proof,  will 
acquiesce  in  the  judgment.  After 
he  has  become  acquainted  with  tlie 
"  Father  of  an  only  Child,"  the 
hoiTours  of  "  Leicester,"  passed 
through  "  Fontainville  Abbey," 
and  sees  "  Darby's  Return,"  he 
will  most  devoutly  wish,  that  some 
proper  authority  would  or  could 


interpose  a  power  to  stop  the 
swelling  torrent  of  the  press.  But 
alas  ! 

Rustidifl  expectaty  dum  defluat  amnis  ; 

at  ille 
Labitur  et  labetur,  in  omne  volubilif 

xvum. 

There  is  one  distinction,  which 
we  have  never  before  met  with,  and 
which  may  not  be  uninteresting  to 
our  agricultural  friends.  It  is  in 
act  II.  sc.  1.  of "  The  P'ather  of  an 
only  Child"  ;  (by  the  by,  we  arc 
very  glad  tl)is  family  was  no  lar- 
ger.) Suaannah^m  showingP/a/oon 
the  gardens,  tells  him,  "  there's 
^^  pumpkins,  potatoes,  and  turnips, 
<<  and  apples  and  ingons  and  sich 
^  like,  and  that's  round  sace  ;  and 
"  tl^re's  carrots,  and  cowcumbers, 
"  parsnups,  and  beets  and  sich;  and 
"  that's  long  sace.  But  whether 
"  mortars  grow  round  or  long, 
«  when  you  plant  them  in  a  tulip 
"  bed,  darn  me  if  I  know." 

Ten  volumes  !  !  !  We  hopt 
IVIr.  Dunlap  will  reconsider  this 
matter. 

The  work  is  adorned  with  a 
portriit  of  Mrs.  Wignall,  painted 
by  W.  Dunlap  and  engraved  by 
D.  Edwin. 


ART.  58. 

Ati  jiddrcas  to  the  Merrimack  Hv* 
mane  Society ,  Se/U,  2,  1806.  By 
Samuel  Gary y  ^.  B,  8ro.  pp, 
31.     Newbur}port,  Blunt. 

After  a  pertinent  introduction, 
the  orator  de\  iates  from  the  gen- 
eral topick  of  benevolence  to  con- 
fine himself  to  the  precise  objects 
of  the  institution.  He  then  dilates 
upon  the  modes  of  excitement  in 
cases  of  apparent  death  ;  bleeding, 
which  was  long  approved  in  Hol- 
land, and  the  application  of  the 
eleclrick  fluid,  wiiich  has  prevail- 


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Sft 


Ik  fdSH. 


•d  in  Eoglftfid.    To  msMf  of  tM 
audience  this  T$\^hi  liave  seemed 
parade  ;  and  the  speaker  unbn^ 
pUy  encourages  the  opinion,  when 
he  siys,  "  I  hav^  tnken  thtifib^rtf 
to  midce  (of  making;)  these  general 
observations,  gentleme»f  with   no 
hope  of  communicating  any  new 
Information."     On  the  assignment 
of  rewards  th*  l^smjlrks  are  judi- 
tlows  ;  and  against  the  plunderer*^ 
of  the  beach  huts  of  th6  society 
they  rise  to  animatibn.     B\lt  th6 
general  tcnour  of  the  addre^  h 
cren  and  stately.     The  diction  is 
ifie%'er  vulgar,  and  seldom   easy. 
We  find  no  original  thought  to  en- 
lace Uft  ;  no  artful  combination  of 
eld  ones  to  dntus^  or  to  surprise. 
There  is  little  to  cfensiire  ;  much 
to  approve ;  but  nothing  to  admire. 
Pompous  language  In  descrip- 
tion of  humble   things    may  be 
atared  at  awhile ;  btit  when  it  is 
tmderjrtood  it  becomes  ridiculous. 
Prqfe99U9grandia>,turget,   A  sneer 
Ihvoluntarily  rises  at  the  affecta- 
tion of  an  unusual  phrase  in  such 
a  manner  as  the  following.    «  The 
leading  object  of  the  society  is  the 
recovery    of  persons   apparently 
dead,  whether  this  appearance  is 
(be)  occasioned   by    sobmersiotf, 
suffocation  by  noxious  vapours,  or 
the  cordy*'  &c.  "  For  this  purpose, 
it  is  common  to  apply  friction,  the 
/tathtTj  and  powerful  salts."  •  Is 
any  particular  feather  intended,  or 
is  the  phrase  adopted  to  dignify 
the  object  ?     «  The  fintt  object  of 
the  operator  is  to  employ  blankets, 
the  heat  of  a  livihg  body,  the  Jlre^ 
or  the  wwm  bath."    «  It  is  there* 
fore  supposed,  that  it  possesses  the 
power  of  renewing  the  cuMtonutry 
actions  of  the  system."    Custom 
implies  volition.     These,  and  oth* 
•r  examples,  resemble  the  strut  of 
youthful  imbecility,  imitating  the 
dignified  gait,  but  regardless  of  the 
«asy  motions,  of  manhood. 


The  idea  intfaa  anther's  fliM 
la  Bot  always  cdbTe]^^  with  da- 
inty or  per^iddtyi  ^  No  toagve 
indeadcaii  o^v<y  to  thii  vndbr- 
sttmding  \M  teiktetibni  enjoftid 
by  the  friendi  of  Imhkaitityi  wheal 
they  have  deliver^  an  afifiartnti^ 
^feiesB  corfittty  aiive  and  inteUigent^ 
to  the  embraces,"  &C.  ^  But  thife 
pieasure, /rom  i/«  dttttancey  and  re- 
fined nature,  often  loses  its  infiu* 
cmce."     Brevia  etse  laborc. 

These  are  mitior  faults,  and  may 
pass  unobserved  by  the  majority 
of  readers  in  a  hasty  perusal  ;  bik 
the  author,  we  presume,  wishes 
tb  stand  the  scrutiny  of  the  dfaaer- 
ving,  and  to  receite  the  approba- 
tion of  the  learned. 

In  thb  octe  to  Humanky,  for 
1 306,  is  a  line  of  unjustifiable  boW- 
ness. 

Thou  canst  restore  tli^  tnvitiek  iam^. 
And  aid  the  effotu  of  m  GmL 


A»RT.  59. 
Hohi^,     A  fheTti.      12/rttf.  pft,  144. 
Boston,  pihited  for  S.  H.  Par*- 
htt^  1806.     £.  LiA€6h<,  printef. 

Ir  tbeiic  be  one  theme  more 
fa\'OUrable  for  poetry  than  another, 
it  is  thift  ptrhaps^which  oQr  author 
has  selected.  At  the  mention  of 
homCr  a  tlxmsaM  images^  codgen- 
ial  to  the  aaa^,  poascss  th'^d  imcy 
at  oneeyand  we  are  in  grearer dan- 
ger of  being  discrafit«xl  by  the  fbl- 
msa  of  Matter,  which  the  sidiject 
prtsemsv  than  th>ubled  to  conceive 
abaut  what  we  shall  write.  The 
winter  firt-shk  circle,  convened  by 
the  iiidemency  of  the  seosooy  all 
the  domestic^  annisementsr  ind 
ducieil  that  |prow  out  of  the  ycxt^ 
the  pastimes'  of  childhood)  the  or- 
cupations;  of  a^e,  th^  in^rconrst 
of  Mendif  the  at6u:hmem!s  of  kin^ 
dred^  tlie  hutovy  <rf  h>ve^  vrith  ins- 


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cidents  dnd  sentiments  in  endless 
variety,  are  here  exhibited  to  the 
muse,  and  invite  her  to  sing.  To 
the  poet  in  particular  the  subject 
must  be  doubly  propitious,  as  we 
all  have  a  gift  at  describing  plea- 
sures that  are  removed  from  our 
reach,  and  a  propensity  to  praise 
what  we  should  like  to  attain. 

Home  is  the  resort 
Of  love,  of  joy,  of  peace  and  plenty, 

wliere. 
Supporting    and    supported,    polish'd 

friends 
And  dear  relations  mingle  into  J)liss. 
Thomson, 

With  a  field  so  extensive  before 
him,  enlivened  with  every  flower 
that  can  gratify  sense,  it  is  natural 
to  suppose,  that  our  author  would 
have  gathered  a  bouquet  not  un- 
worthy to  be  laid  at  the  feet  of  the 
JVine.  But  in  examining  his  selec- 
tions, we  have  met  with  what  is 
common  to  other  personages  than 
criticks...the  disappointment  which 
follows  expectations  too  exalted. 
We  do  not  deny  that  he  has  collected 
some  gems,  which  are  delicately 
marked  and  prettily  coloured,  but 
he  has  fewer  rose-buds  than  leaves, 
and  more  knot-grass  than  pinks. 
He  does  not  present  us  with  a  re- 
membrance to  be  worn  in  our  bos- 
oms on  a  sabbath  or  gala^^  though 
he  affords  something  perhaps  me- 
dicinal, and  something  that  is  sav- 
oury. 

In  one  of  his  notes,  our  unknown 
observes,  that  dissonant  rhymes 
may  be  occasionally  employed  with 
happy  effect  ;  and  quotes  Pope 
and  Gray  for  the ,  correctness  of 
the  remark.  Whether  or  not  po- 
etry contribute  to  her  harmony,  by 
interrupting  in  this  way  the  chime 
of  her  bells,  as  all  ears  are  not  con- 
structed on  a  similar  model,  we 
leave  it  to  our  readers  to  determine 
for  themselves.      We  would  re- 


VoL  III.  No.  10. 


3X 


mind  the  prosodiah,  however,  that 
Swift  regretted,  that  he  had  not 
inspected  the  translation  of  the 
Iliad  before  it  was  committed  to 
press,  because  he  wished  to  have , 
had  corrected  some  unsociable 
rhymes,  which  he  considered  as 
offensive  to  cultivated  tympanuns. 
What  the  censor  of  Homer  would 
have  said  to  our  poem,  whose  au- 
thor appears,  in  his  critical  notices^ 
to  speak  one  word  for  rhyme,  and 
a  couple  for  himself,  will  be  readi- 
ly imagined,  when  we  quote  con- 
cords Ul^e  the  following.  Revive^ 
Urue  ;  tie^joy  i  blooms j  comes  ;  voicCf 
joys;  break,  cheek;  heard,  afifiear'd  ; 
Jlood,good;  roam,  home;  foam,  home ^ 
bloom,  home;  and  many  more,  that 
are  as  distant  from  chimes  as  a 
sheep-bell  and  cymbal.  Had  homej 
this  unhappy  text-word  of  the  poet, 
which  continually  falls  on  the  end 
of  a  line,  by  a  small  metrical  ma- 
noeuvre, been  otherwise  disposed 
of,  great  pains  might  have  been 
saved,  and  less  melody  murdered. 
It  is  at  best  but  a  bad  part  of  speech 
to  ring  the  changes  upon,  and 
would  have  answered  much  better 
differently  placed  in  a  couplet. 

Another  ground  of  objection  a- 
gainst  our  poet  is,  he  weakens  his 
versification  with  a  profusion   of 
expletives. 
Ere  while  less  sweet,  they  now  delight 

the  eye. 
My  heart,  that,  when  the  tempest,  echo- 
ing, past 
Here  not  a  sound  is  heard  but  boasts  a 
charm. 

and  he  has  too  much  to  say  about 
Edivin  and  Emma  ;  who  have  sus- 
tained, poor  unfortunates  !  the  bur- 
den of  song  for  rather  more  than  a 
century,  and  were  deserving  before 
the  date  of  this  performance  of  a 
quiet  interment  in  the  tomb  of  the 
Capulets. 

But  to  sprinkle  a  little  praise 
upon  this  severity  of  remark,  for 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


554 


M0IIXB1.T'  tATALOeUB. 


we  wish  not  to  be  cruel  where  we 
cannot  be  kind,  we  acknowledge 
the  poem  is  very  far  from  contemp- 
tible ;  it  possesses  some  passages 
that  may  be  read  with  a  degree  of 
complacency)  and  whatever  it  pos- 
sesses is  very  evidently  its  own. 
To  prove  that  we  are  sincere,  we 
gite  the  following  selection. 

Soon  the  favouring'  breeze  inspires 

The  swelling  sails  no  more,  but  sad  re- 
tires ; 

lyhile  rising  fierce,  with  terrors  all  his 
own. 

The  scowling  south-wind  mounts  his 
cloudy  throne  ; 

Bids  his  black  squadrons  darken  all  the 
pole. 

And  fires  descend*  and  deep-toned 
thunders  rolL 

The  attendants  on  wealth  and 
power,  too,  are  decently  conceived, 
and  tolerably  drawn. 

JDark,  as  yon  clouds  o'er  Pentland's  hills 

that  lower. 
Appear  the  legions  guarding  wealth 

and  power. 


Stem  on  their  firontiert,  psle  Sus^eioi^ 

keep 
Relentless  watch,  that  knows  not  rest 

or  sleep. 
There  Danger  joys  his  fiery  W&dt  ts 

form. 
His  glance  the  flash  of  heaven,  bis  step 

the  storm ; 
There  Hate,  whose  day-dreams  scenei 

of  blood  defile  ; 
Deceit,  who  wears  a  dagger  and  i  smile; 
And  fierce  Destruction,  opening  from 

beneath 
The  mine,  in  whoae  dark  chtmboi 

revels  death. 

The  stanzas  on  the  Tomb  oft^ 
Fatherly  Victory,,  and  To  the  Even- 
ing StaVf  have  nothing  remarkable 
in  thought  or  expressioD ;  and 
might  be  spared  in  abunch»wid»- 
out  loss  or  regret.  The  factisj 
poetry  ha&  no  middle  character ; 
it  must  be  either  decidedly  good, 
or  decidedly  bad  ;  middling  verse 
is  middling  nonsense  ! 

This  work  is  neatly  executci 


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man congregation  in  the  Savoy.  First 
American  edition.  8vo.  pp.  368.  Lan- 
singburgh,  N.Y.  Penniman  &  Bliss. 

The  First  Church  Collection  of  Sa- 
cred Musick.  Second  edition,  pp. 
136.     Boston,  Thomas  8c  Andrews. 

The  M'line  Spelling  Book  ;  contain- 
ing a  variety  of  words,  accented  and 
divided,  with  moral  and  entertaining 
lessons,  useful  tables,  &c.  To  which 
is  added,  a  description  of  the  United 
States  in  general,  and  tlie  Di.strict  of 
Maine  in  particular.  Tliird  edition. 
12mo.  20  cents.     Portland. 

Logick,  or  the  riglit  use  of  reason  in 
the  inquiry  after  truth.  Witli  a  variety 
of  ndes  to  guard  against  crrour  in  tlic 
affairs  of  religion  and  human  life,  as 
well  as  in  the  sciences.  By  Isaac 
Watts,  D.D.  Third  American  edition. 
12mo.  pp.  288.    Exeter,  Randlett. 

A  Review  of  the  Conduct  of  His 
Royal  Highness  the  Prince  of  Wales  in 
his  transactions  witli  Natlianiel  Jeffries, 
late  member  of  parliaAnent — in  which 
are  included  several  particulars  relative 


to  the  Princess  of  Wales  and  Mrs. 
Fitzherbert.  To  which  is  added.  An 
answer  by  a  Friend  of  the  Prince.  37 
cents.    Philadelphia. 

Walker's  Critical  Pronouncing  Dic- 
tionar)'.     2d  American  Edition. 

IN  THE  PRESS. 

Life  of  Beattie,  in  2  vols.  8vo. 
Price  g3.     New-York,  I.  Riley  &  Co. 

Memoirs  of  Richard  Cumberland, 
written  by  himself  12mo.  1  vol.  The 
second  American  edition.  New- York, 
Brisban  &  Brannan.  [Messrs.  D. 
West,  J.  West,  and  O.  C.  Greenlea^ 
of  this  town,  have  also  an  edition  of 
this  work  in  the  press,  1  vol.  ISmo.] 

Memoirs  of  Samuel  Foote,  Esq.  with 
a  collection  of  his  genuine  bon-mots, 
anecdotes,  opinions,  &c.  mostly  origi- 
nal, and  three  of  his  dramatick  pieces, 
not  published  in  his  works.  By  Wil- 
liam Cooke,  Esq.  2  vols.  12mo.  New 
York,  Peter  A.  Mesier. 

Lempriere's  Classical  Dictionary. 
1  large  vol.  8vo.  from  the  last  London 
4to  edition.     Philadelphia,  Watts. 

Robert's  Treatise  on  Frauds.  New- 
York,  Isaac  Riley  and  Co. 

Carr's  Northern  Summer.  12mo. 
gl,25.     New-London,  Cady  and  Eels. 

I.  Riley  &  Co.  booksellers  of  New 
York,  have  in  the  press  and  will  shortly 
publish,  a  topographical  and  statistical 
account  of  tlie  city  of  New-York  and 
its  environs,  to  be  intitled,  **  The  pk' 
ture  of  Ncvj-York,  or  the  Traveller^t 
Guide  in  Nevj-Tork  and  itt  vicinity,** 
Tins  work  is  intended  to  be  published 
in  a  neat  pocket  volume,  and  to  com- 
prise the  principal  information  of  which 
travellers  and  strangers  stand  in  need. 
It  will  be  executed  after  the  manner  of 
tlie  Guides  to  Paris,  London,  Oxford, 
and  other  remarkuhle  places  in  Eiu-ope. 
To  render,  this  work  more  interesting 
and  useful,  it  will  be  rccompanied  by 
maps  of  tlie  city,  of  the  siUTounding 
country*  of  the  state.  It  will  al.so  be 
embellished  with  engravings  of  several 
picturesque  scenes,  such  as  the  fulls  of 
tlic  Pass.aic  and  Niagara,  the  passage 
of  tlie  Hudson  througli  tlic  mountains, 
&c.   &.C. 

The  American  Builder's  Companion, 
or  system  of  architecture,  containing  44 
neatly  executed  engravings,  under  \\^ 
inspection  of  Ashur  Benjamin,  archi^ 
tect  and  carpenter,  and  D.  Raynard^, 
architect  and  stucco  worker,  authors  of 
the  worlc.     Boston,  Ethcridge  &  Bliss. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


f58 


ItfTBLLlGENCK. 


rROPOSED  BT  SUBSCRIPTION. 

The  Dramatick  Worki  of  William 
Shakespeare,  with  Dr.  Samuel  John- 
son's Preface  and  Notes.     Second  edi. 

tion.     Boston,  Munroe  Sc  Francis. 

Oj*  The  sale  of  the  whole  of  their  first 
edition  and  the  frequent  demand  for  co- 
piei  hare  induced  the  publishers  to  pro- 
pose a  second.  It  will  be  printed  cor- 
rectly  from  Dr.  Johnson's  octavo  edition, 
which  if  allowed  to  f^ve  the  true  text 
of  Shakespeare,  in  eight  12m  o.  vols, 
eaish  embellished  with  an  engraved  ti- 
tl«i>ag«.  It  will  be  delivered  to  sub. 
•cribers  in  half  volumes,  sewed  in  red, 
at  42  eta.  payable  on  delivery.  A  list 
ff  the  aubseriberg*  names  will  accom- 
pany the  last  No.  The  work  contains 
The  author's  life,  by  Rowe ;  Dr.  John- 
son's Preface  ;  and  thirty-six  Plays  ; 
which  will  be  printed  with  an  entire 
»ew  type  on  fine  wove  paper. 

Delolmc  on  the  Constitution  of  Eng- 
land ;  or,  an  account  of  the  English 
I^Ternsient,  in  which  it  is  compared 
with  the  republican  form  of  govern- 
ment and  the  other  monarchies  in  Eu- 
rope.  By  J.  D.  Delolme,  advocate.  I 
w)i  8fo.  pp.  500.  g2  in  boardt.  Hal- 
toweU,  Maine,  J.  Johnson. 

Bnrlamaqui  on  Natural  and  Political 
Law.     1  vol.  8vo.  Cambridge,  HiUiard. 

An  abridgment  of  the  system  of  mid- 
wifery. By  N.  Chapman,  M.  D.  hon- 
ourary  member  of  the  royid  medical 


•ooiely  of  Edinbiirgh»  and  iMtorer  ia 
midwifery  in  Phili^plua.  Phibdel- 
phia,  John  Watts. 

Johnson's  Works,  in  15  pocket  w€^ 
Cambridge,  HiUiard. 

Contemplations  on  the  Sacred  His* 
tory,  altered  frpm  the  works  of  the 
Right  Reverend  Father  in  God,  Jo8e|A 
Hail,  D.  D.  sometime  Lord  Bishop  of 
Norwich.  By  tiie  Rev.  George  Hcnrf 
Glasse,  M.A.  Rector  of  HaaweU,  Mid., 
dlesex,  and  Chaplain  to  the  £arl  of 
Radnor.  From  the  3d  edition,  4  vtila. 
in  3,  of  about  350  each.  12mo.  Price 
iX     Philadelphia,  W.  W.  WoodwmrdL 

The  Works  of  Dr.  Edward  Yo^ig; 
2  vols.  12mo.  400  pages  each.  Price  ia 
boards  ^,50.  Boston,  Hosea  Sprague. 

Biographical  Sketches  of  the  ImSed 
Rev.  John  Gano,  written  principally  by 
himself.  12mo.  pp.  180.  75  cts,  bouadL 
Cincinnati  (Ohio)  Spy  Office. 

The  Voter's  Guide  ;  or,  the  power, 
duty,  and  privilege  of  the  constitutiofial 
voters  in  the  commonwealth  of  Maaaa^ 
chusetts.  To  which  are  added,  orig- 
inal remarks,  with  various  extracts  froii 
historians  and  the  writing  and  pub4idi 
speeches  of  eminent  political  characters 
in  this  add  other  countries,  te»<liii^  to 
explain  t!ie  causes  of  the  rise  and  AH 
of  republicks.  12mo.  pp.  150.  Price 
50  cts.  in  boards.  *  Leominster,  Maaaa. 
S.  &  J.  Wilder. 

Rudiments  of  the  Art  of  Playing  at 
the  Piano-Forte,  containing  elements 
of  musick,  &c,    Boston,  C  Graupner. 


IJ\r  TELLIGEJVCE. 


Gri:at-Britaik. 

ttenry  Richard,  Lord  Holland,  has 
lately  published  a  literary  work,  enti- 
tled^ **  Some  account  of  tlie  Life  and 
Writings  of  Lope  Felix  de  Vega  Car- 
pio.'*    8vo.  9s.  boards. 

On  Januaiy  the  first,  1807,  will  be 
commenced,  in  London,  a  new  monthly 
publication,  entitled  The  Athenaeum  ; 
a  magazine  of  literary  and  miscellane- 
ous information.  Conducted  by  J.  Aikin, 
M.D.  Of  this  work,  the  first  part  will 
be  devoted  to  general  coiTcspondencc, 
comprising  in  its  topicks  all  interesting 
matter  of  inquiry  or  information  in  po- 
lite nteratiu-e,  antiquities,  science,  phi- 
losophy, natural  history,  statl sticks,  do- 
jntstick  economy,  manners,  8cc.  In  this 
department,  controversial  discussions, 
within  the  boimds  of  moderation  and 
decorum,  will  be  freely  admitted  j  que- 


ries and  their  answers  will  fje  inse]%ed| 
exposures  of  defects  and  abuses,  pro- 
posals for  improvement,  and  useful  sug- 
gestions of  all  kinds,  will  be  tliankfid^ 
attended  to.  Distinct  and  permanent 
parts  of  the  publication  will  be  allotted 
to  the  following  objects :  Classical  Dis- 
quisitions ;  consisting  of  remarks  his- 
torical and  critical  ujwn  all  tlie  princi- 
pal authors  of  antiquity,  and  the  man- 
uscripts, editions,  translations,  &c.  of 
their  works. — Analyses  of,  and  extracts 
from,  scarce  and  curious  books  of  dif- 
ferent a^es  and  countries  ;— rmeipoirs  of 
distinguished  persons ; — literary  intelli- 
gence, domestick  and  foreign  ;--origi- 
nal  poetry  ; — the  political  events  of  the 
preceding  mohth  ; — meterological  re- 
gisters and  observations  ; — agricultural 
and  commercial  reports  i — ^a  notice  of 
all  interesting  occurrences  throughout 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


IHTELLXaBVCm. 


i5t 


Ibe  united  kingdomi^  with  an  obituarj 
of  remarkable  characters. 

The  first  fasciculus  of  the  long  ex- 
pected Flora  Grscaof  the  late  Profess- 
DT  SiBTHoaP,  edited  by  Dr.  Smith, 
will  make  its  appearance  in  a  few  days. 
It  will  consist  of  50  plates,  beautifully 
coloured,  with  descriptive  letter 'prcss. 
This  splendid  work  will  form,  vdien 
completed,  ten  volumes  in  folio,  contain- 
ing one  thousand  figures,  executed  by 
Sowerby  irum  the  masterly  drawings 
of  Mr.  Ferdinand  Bauer. 

Mr.  P.  Kelly,  the  eminent  master 
of  the  commercial  academy  in  Fins- 
bury  square,  is  preparing  with  great 
labour  a  new  and  accurate  work  on  ex- 
ehanges,  to  be  pubhshed  in  one  large 
volume  quarto,  under  the  title  of  the 
Universal  Cambist.  He  takes  for  his 
foundation  the  work  of  Kruse,  entitled 
the  Hamburgh  Contorist,  which  he  has 
modernized,  adapted  to  the  English 
sitandard,  flnd  considerably  enlarged 
from  unquestionable  living  authorities. 
Among  other  numerous  and  important 
additions,  are  new  essays  of  the  princi- 
pal current  coins  by  which  the  intrinsick 
par  of  exchange  is  determined.  The 
price  will  not  exceed  three  guineas  ; 
and  the  charge  to  subscribers  will  be 
half-a-guinea  less  than  to  the  public. 

The  Rev.  J.  Robinson,  master  of  the 
grammar  school  at  Ravenstondi^,  i» 
engaged  in  a  new  and  complete  work 
oti  the  Antiquities  of  Greece,  similar 
iH  desigpi  to  the  Roman  Antiquities  of 
I>r.  Adams.  Besides  introducing  eve- 
ry thing  valuable  in  the  works  of  Arch- 
bishop Potter  and  otlicrs  who  wrote 
on  Grecian  antiquities  at  a  distant  pe- 
riod, Mr.  Robinson  has  availed  himself 
of  tht  Tfaveb  of  Anacharsis,  of  the 
-works  of  Stuart,  Choiseul  Gauffier, 
Sonnini«  Winkleman,  and  other  recent 
^;^riter»  and  travellers,  to  enrich  his 
vrork*  and  render  it  usefitl  and  desir- 
a|>le  to  students  and  admirers  of  Greek 
literature. 

Accounts  have  been  received  fi?om 
the  Baptist  missionary  in  Bengtd,  bear- 
ing date  November  15,  1805,  by 
-w'tiich  it  appears  that  the  converts  had 
increased  since  the  commencement  of 
the  year  from  34  to  70.  Three  of  the 
natives  are  preaching  the  gospel.  Ttie 
missionai'ies  are  proceeding  in  the  tran- 
slation and  printing  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testament  in  four  or  five  eastern 
languagcs»and  they  hc^  to  accomplish 
the  translation  into  all  the  languages  of 
tkeEast 


In  the  AntiquariMi  Society  M  mi. 
count  has  been  read  of  tha  splendid 
equipage  and  sumptuary  retinue  of  tiM 
Earl  of  NorthumberUmd,  at  his  em* 
barkation  for  France  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  VIII.— The  gospel  of  St  John» 
in  Latin,  but  written  on  parchment  in 
Roman  characters  mixed  with  Saxon; 
was  exhibited  to  the-^cicty  by  th» 
Rev.  Mr.  Milner.  Thii  voliuiie  is  said 
to  be  1,200  years  old. 

A  Catalo^e  of  tha  particular*  of 
the  manuscripts,  collations,  and  bookti 
with  manuscript  notes^  of  the  lat« 
James  Philip  D'Otville,  Esg.,  pui-cha»* 
ed  by  the  University  of  Oxford  in  1801 
tor  £.1025,  will  shortly  be  printed. 

In  the  course  of  August  last  Mtssr». 
Boydell  &  Co.  of  London  vtttt  to  pub* 
lish  the  third  edition  corrected  of  M^o* 
garth  lUwiratfd,  by  J.Ikxsland,  in  3  volft 
royal  8vo.  This  work  contains  not  only  an 
explanation  of  each  print,  but'numerou* 
anecdotes  of  that  great  artist,  and  the 
times  in  which  he  lived.  The  3d  volume^ 
compiled  from  Hoffarth'sMSS.,  ahdcoft* 
taining  upwards  of  40  new  prints,  and  a 
correct  list  of  the  numerous  variations  in 
his  engravings,  may  be  had  separate  for 
the  completion  of  sets,  to  accommodate 
those  who  purchased  the  two  first  voU 
umes  before  the  third  was  published. 

Mr.  Cromek  intends  to  publish  in  the 
coiu^e  of  the  ensuing  winter  a  series 
of  twelve  engravings,  etched  in  a  \^rf 
superior  style  of  excellence,  by  Lomt 
Schiavonetti,  from  the  original  inven- 
tions of  William  Blake,  illustrative  oC 
Blair's  popular  poem  ••  The  Grave." 
In  consequence  of  the  originality  of 
the  designs,  and  the  vigorous  express- 
ion, the  work  has  been  honoured  with 
tlie  patronage  of  the  first  professors  of 
art  in  the  metropolis,  and  by  the  sub- 
scriptions of  upward  of  250'  of  the 
most  distinguished  amateurs. 
Germany. 

A  splendid  edition  of  the  Poetical^ 
Works  of  the  celebrated  Schiller,  withk 
plates,  will  speedily  appt^ar. 

Sturtz  i s  publishing J/tfWflire  dc  lingiue 
gr*ca  dialectic  cpfiu  auctum  et  emmdntui&n 
Russia. 

A  letter  has  recently  been  received 
from  M.  Rhemann,  the  physician  in  tbot 
suite  of  the  Russian  embassy  to  China, 
dated  KiRchta  on  the  frontiers  of  China« 
October  14ih,  1805  ;  in  which  he  akyft 
that  he  hr.s  vaccinated  a  great  numbedR 
of  the  children  of  the  Moguls,  «<  These 
people  (continues  M.  Rehmann,)  have 
f^tiuMvd  theaioiple  naaniMir'a  aodcu^^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


560 


MEDICAL   REPORT. 


toms  of  their  uicettort.  They  live  in 
tents,  and  still  make  use  of  bows  and 
arrows,  which  they  employ  with  such 
dexterity  and  precision,  that  when  they 
went  out  with  the  Russians  of  tlic  am- 
bassador's  suite  they  killed  six  times  as 
much  gume  as  the  latter,  thoug'h  pro- 
vided with  excellent  fowling-pieces." 
He  likewise  writes  that  he  has  discov- 
ered a  little  portable  pharmaceutick 
collection  of  Thibet,  fi?om  which  the 
science  of  medicine  is  likely  to  derive 
advantage.  It  consists  of  sixty  different 
articles,  very  elegantly  wrapped  in  pa- 

Kr.  Among  these  are  some  remedies 
own  in  Europe  ;  but  with  a  much 
greater  number  the  botanists  att^hed 
to  the  embassy  wei*e  unacquainted.  The 
latter  consist  of  small  fruits,  nuts,  and 
some  chemical  preparations.  M.  Reh- 
mann  has  procured  a  translation  of  the 
list  of  them,  which  was  written  in  the 
language  of  Tangut.  He  proposes  to 
bring  with  him  some  of  these  collec- 
tions of  medicines,  which  are  much  in 
use  among  the  Bu€bu*ians. 
Sweden. 

Colonel  Skioldebrand,  whose  Pictu- 
resque Tour  in  Lapland  is  well  known, 
is  at  present  engaged  on  a  History  of 
all  the  publick  festivals  held  in  Swe- 
den, which  will  be  a  splendid  work 
with  engravings.  He  is  said  to  have 
received  an  advance  of  12,000  rix-dol- 
lars  towards  this  work,  of  wliich  great 
expectations  are  entertained. 

The  fifth  part  of  Icones  Plantarum 
Japonicarum,  by  Tliunberg,  lias  made 
its  appearance  ;  but  it  is  likely  to  be 
the  last  the  learned  professor  will  pub- 
lish, unless  some  foreign  bookseller 
vnW  undertake  to  give  his  admirable 
collections  to  the  world. 


this  country.  Tht  mercurial  practic* 
is  employed  with, ardour  by  some,  and 
with  doubt  by  others  ;  perhaps  this  is 
to  be  explained  by  the  fac^thxt  it  is  now 
and  then  brilliantly  successful,  in  other 
cases  inefficient,  in  a  few  hurtful 
This  powerful  medicine  would  be  more 
frequently  useful,  if  tlie  principles  for 
its  application  were  understood.  The 
occasional,  though  cautious,  use  of  ca- 
thartichy  in  a  way  very  similar  to  that 
reconmiended  by  the  judicious  Dr. 
Hamilton,  Is  very  well  established 
Cold  vjater  is  gradually  removing  the 
obstacles  opposed  to  it  by  the  preju- 
dices of  the  ^-ulgar,  and  will  probably 
become  a  common  and  useful  remedy 
in  fevers.  The  cholera  of  infants  has 
been  more  fatal  in  this,  than  the  last 
month  ;  but  the  number  of  cases  not 
grater. 
The  cow-pock  practice  increases. 

Intennenu  in  Boston  from  August  29  » 
Sept.  26,  from  the  Sexton*  retumt. 
Mal.Fcm.Ch. 
Accident  2 

Apoplexy  1 

Colic,  bilious  1 

Consumption  3    12     1 

Dropsy  2 

Drowned  1 

Fever,  ner\'Ous  2 

,  puti'id  1 

,  slow  bilious  1 

Fits  1 

Hooping  coug^  ^ 

Inf.  complaints 
Imprudence  2 

Intoxication  1 

Old  age  2     1 

Quinzy  J 

Diseases  not  mentioned        2     ^    ^ 


13 


STATEMENT  OF  DISEASES,  &c. 

•   from  Sept.  20  to  Oct.  20, 1806. 

THE  atmosphere  has  been  clear 
during  great  part  of  the  past  month, 
and  the  weather  cool.  Winds  firom  the 
north-west  and  north-cast 

The  attention  of  physicians  has  been 
principally  called  to  the  autumnal  fre- 
ver  :  yet  this  disease  has  not  been  so 
common,  and  f^  less  fatal  than  in  most 
years.  It  is  right  to  have  it  stated  ; 
though  we  are  not  desirous  of  making 
•ny  general  inferences  from  it  at  pre- 
sent; that  the  depletion  fftlie  tanguifer^ 
OU9  system,  is  rarely,  if'^ever,  resorted 
to  by  our  physicians ;  and  we  suspect 
that  as  few  die  of  fever  here,  in  the 
MUBie  number  of  cases,  as  in  any  city  of 


17    ^2 


Intennenu  from  Sept.  26  to  October  23. 


Accident 

3 

1 

Colic,  bilious 

1 

Consumption 

6 

7 

Dropsy 

2 

2 

1 

Drowned 

2 

Fever,  slow 

1 

1 

1 

,  nervous 

1 

1 

Inf  complaints 

'  -^4 

15 

Mortification 

1 

Old  age 

2 

1 

2 
18 

Suddenly 

Diseases  not  mentioned 

6 

3 

25    15   3r 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


rkt 


MONTHLY   ANTHOLOGY. 


NOVEMBER,    1806, 


plOCRAPHY. 

For' the  Mcnthfy  JntMoiogy, 

LIFE    OF    RICHAUD    BENTLEY,  D.  0. 
[Coatlooed  from  page  S^S-l 

rifit^mtit  ft^  is#  ^^tntt  ^m^rnf  "hxf^'  ^a0M.-^Tj.AT.  de  Leg.  IV. 
%v  172$  the  tjicriaberaof  Trinity    illegality  and  violence  of  the  mea 


College  rcnpwei  their  attacks  upon 
their  mastcn  A  chaise  of  violat* 
ing  statutes,  wasting  the  college 
revenues,  kc.  Sec,  was  exhibite4 
tto  the  Bishop  of  Ely>in  sixty-five 
articles.  These  contained  a  recap- 
itulation of  their  former  griev- 
ances, and  a  considerable  addition 
to  the  number  of  their  imaginary 
evils.  This  cataloffiu^  accompa* 
nied  by  a  petition,  was  presented 
to  the  bishops,  although  the  most 
eminent  lawyers,  in  the  year  1712. 
had  given  their  opinion  that  the 
crown  possessed  the  general  visi- 
tatorial power,  as  well  as  over  the 
mastei*  in  particular. 

While  the  establishing  of  th^ 
visitor  was  in  debate,  and  Bent- 
ley's  enemies  in  his  college  were 
busily  employed  in  accumulating 
charges  of  violation  of  statutes,  &c. 
&c.  fis  quarrel  with  the  univer- 
sity was  finally  determined  in  his 
favour.  Those  enemies  who  had 
contributed  to  his  degradation 
now  found  all  their  efforts  vain, 
and  their  machinations  defeated, 
while  tlie  publick,  in  general,  were 
confirnu-d  in  their  opinion  of  the 
VoL  111.  No.  n.        3V 


6ures,  which  the  university  had 
pursued.  With  respect  to  thes6 
proceedings  a  cause  was  long  lit 
l&gitation  at  the  court  of  King's 
Bench*,  where  the  propriety  of 
the  vice-chancellor's  conduct  was 
disputed.  The  ministry  did  not 
V^ish  to  exert  their  authority  any 
farther  on  the  Of:casion  ;  hut  th^ 
court  reversed  the  decree  of  th6 
tiniversity,  and  a  mandamus  was 
sent  to  Cambridge,  on  the  7th  of 
February,  1728,  to  order  that  Mr. 
pentley  should  be  restored  to  all 
the  degt*ees  and  honours  of  whiclf 
he  had  been  deprived. 

In  the  first  divinity  act,  after  Dr. 
Bentley  was  restored  to  his  de* 
grees,  he  moderated  .  himself  as 
professor  in  the  publick  schoolsl 
Dr..  John  Addenbroke,  aftei'warda 
Deah  of  Litchfield,  appeared  as 
respondent  for  the  degree  of  Ba- 
chelor of  Divinity,  who  had  taken 
a  very  active  part  against  Bentley 
in  the  senate-housel,  when  his  dei 

•  For  a  litt  of  the  ptmphletf  pubKih. 
ed  during  the  conclusion  of  these  dis« 
putes,  we  must  refer  to  the  ingenious 
Mr.  Cough's  British  Topog.  Vol.  I. 


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t6% 


JLIFB  Of   BBmrLBT. 


gradation  was  the  subject  of  de- 
bate.'    His  first  question  was  : 

I.  Gaici  argumenta  non  valent 
contra  /ladobaptUmum  ?  The  pro- 
fessor objected  to  the  terms  of  it, 
because  it  confined  the  question  to 
Gale's  arguments,  and  cried  out, 
<(  Xjuid  nobU  cum  hfrntuncione  Ga^ 
leo  ?**  It  was  observed,  afterwards, 
that  the  l^t  determination  which 
Bentley  had  made  In  the  schools 
before  his  degradation  was  on  this 
subject,  and  that  he  had  said  that 
Gale's  arguments  need  only  be 
considered,  as  they  contained  all 
that  could  be  .alleged  against  in- 
fant baptism.  The  second  ques- 
tion was,  "  Miracula  a  Christo  edU 
tafirobant  ejtu  divinam  miBsionem  ?** 
"fo  the  Latinity  of  this  he  object- 
ed, and  said  that  he  had  heard  of 
cdcre  libruniy  edere  lignum  fiofiulo  : 
sed  qids  ungtiamaudiviCj  edere  inira" 
cuia  ?  Miracula  facta  aunt  non  edita, 
Bentley  was  undoubtedly  right,  for 
we  read  in  Pliny t,  "  Ludibria  sibi^ 
Ms  viiraculay  fecit  nature  ;  but, 
ttdere  miracula  we  do  not  remember. 

With  respect  to  the  dispute  of 
the  menders  of  Tiinity  College,  as 
the  Bishop  of  Ely  declined  to  act, 
the  society  engaged  in  the  cause, 
and  presented  a  petition  to  his  ma- 
jesty under  the  common  seal  in 
August,  1728.  This  was  referred 
to  a  committee  of  the  privy -coun- 
cil, as  well  as  that,  of  the  bishop, 
who  petitioned  to  be  heard  concem- 
bg  his  right,  on  the  3d  of  Novem- 
ber. A  printed  state  of  the  case 
of  Trinity  College  was  delivered 
to  the  privy-counsellors  previous 
to  the  day  \  appointed  for  a  hear- 
ing, in  which  it  was  stated,  that 
khe  college,  as  they  wished  an  im- 
mediate examination  into  their  af- 
fairs, intrealed  that  his  majesty 
would  assume  to  himself  the  pow- 

t  VII.  2.  Vol.  11.  p.  95.  Ed  BroUcr. 
j  March  13,  irsa. 


er.  of  visitor.  On  March  the  r5di 
the  cause  came  on  before  the 
lords,  and  was  referred  to  tlie 
court  of  KiDg's-Bench,  and  m 
May,  1729,  after  a  long  trial,  the 
judges  unanimously  determined, 
that  the  bishop  had  a  right  to  ex- 
ercise a  power  as  visitor,  over  the 
master  of  Trinity  College. 

In  June  the  petitioners  exhibit- 
ed their  articles  before  his  lord- 
ship ;  bat  a  suspicion  arose,  that 
be  wished  to  be  accounted  general 
visitor,  the  master  and  fellows  pro- 
cured a  fmther  hearing  in  Novem- 
ber. The  bishop  lost  his  cause  ; 
and  in  1731  he  moved  for  a  writ  of 
errour,  in  order  to  bring  it,  by  ap- 
peal, into  the  house  of  lords. 
The  crown  at  last  put  an  end  t6 
these  dbputes,  by  complying  with 
the  petition  of  the  college,  and 
taking  the  master  and  the  college 
into  its  own  jurhdiction  and  visita- 
tion. 

Soon  after  the  restoration  of  his 
degrees.  Dr.  Bentley  wrote  an  ano- 
nymous letter  to  ChishuII,  with 
some  critical  remarks  on  an  in- 
scription to  Jupiter  £/hW,  which 
he  had  inserted  in  his  ^Antiquitatei 
jlsiafttie^  and  had  restored  in  sever- 
al passages  which  Spon  and  Whe- 
ler  had  piiblbhed  very  negligently. 

ChishuII,  who  was  an  acute 
scholar,  and  a  man  of  solid  learn- 
ing, admitted  part  of  Bentley** 
corrections,  and  part  he  rejected, 
icohcludmg  his  letter  thus  :  «  Ul- 
UTnufn  (ftc,  Distichon)  nunc  luben* 
verto  magia  hd  mcntem  hiijua  Her- 
cuHs  musarum.  Sic  erdm  ear  pede 
ip8um  metiory  progue  accepto  habcOj 
quod  gui'clai'a  confligerepottdty  sua- 
dela  maluit,'*  The  Hercnies  of 
the  Muses,  indeed,  he  proved  him- 
self by  his  criticism  on  this  epi- 
gram. About  two  years  after 
these  letters  had  passed  between 
the  learned  Chishuil  and  our  Brit- 
ish Aii&tarchus,  the  marbk  itself; 


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XIVX  or  mENTLZT. 


#65^ 


from  whicb  the  Tcwes  hail  been 
copied,  was  brought  into  England^ 
and  placed  in  Dr.  Mead's  collec- 
tion. On  examination,  it  appear- 
ed that  the  inacidption  was  origi- 
nally cut  rn  the  Tf^ry  mme  ietejr* 
which  Bentley  had  conjectured^ 

This  remarkable  instanceofcrit- 
ical  sagacity  has  been  recorded 
and  celebrated,  by  the  learned  Dr. 
Taylor,  in  <lie  preface  to  his  ad- 
mirable little  treatise  De  inofii  de- 
bitore  in  partis  diseecandoy  in  which 
lie  has  given  z/ac  nmilc  of  inscrip- 
tion on  the  marble  ;  and  among 
other  short  pieces  of  criticisms, 
which  are  subjoined  ^o  this  work, 
he  has  preserved  the  original  let- 
ters of  Bentley  and  Chishull. 

Our  great  cpitick's  disputes  with 
his  college  and  the  university 
were  now  finally  settled  :  and  his 
real  merits,  aided  by  justice  and 
truth,  crushed  the  efforts  of  fac- 
tion and  malevolence.  Those  who 
had  envied  his  erudition  and  tal- 
ents, now  sa^v  all  their  schemes 
defeated.  Dr.  Bentley,  whose  de^ 
gradation  they  had  so  strenuously. 
laboured  to  accomplish,  now  rose 
superiour  to  their  little  arts,aDd  the 
publick  in  general  began  to  view 
the  proceedings  of  his  enemies  in 
their  proper  light. 

His  duty  as  i^oyal  librarian  was 
pendered  agreeable,  not  only  by  the 
nature  of  his  favourite  pursuits, 
but  also  by  the  attention  which  was 
shewn  him  >by  sQuecn  ^Caroline, 
who  was  his  oonstaat  patroness^ 
and  was  justly  entitled  to4he  ele>- 
gant  compliment  which  he  paid 
her  in  his  publick  speech,  on  create 
ing  the  Doctor  in  Divinity.  Her 
Majesty  was  f>articularly  fond  of 
engaging  him  in  litei^ary  disputes 
with  Dr.  Clarke,  Fir  aufira  nosr 
irum  firteconium  longiadmc  fiomus. 
To  these  amicaMe  contests,  Bent- 
ley for  some  time  submitted,  but 
;ji3  they  generally  tci'minated  with- 


out either  party's  driving  much 
information  from  thean,  he  declin- 
ed them,  and  pleaded  his  hdilth  as 
an  excuse.  # 

Theonstigadons  cf  Queen  Ca- 
roline, as  she  wished  him  to  pub- 
lish an  English  classick,  induced 
Dr.  Bentley  to  undertake  his  edi- 
tion of  Milton,  which  appeared  in 
quarto  in  the  year  1732,  with  two 
^tt«/«  of  the  poet,  at  different  pe- 
riods of  his  life, .en graved rby  Ver- 
tue.  In  'tis  preface,  he  tells  us 
that  the  mistakes  in  pointing,  or- 
thography, and  distinction  of  capi- 
tal letters  are  here.cacefully  correc- 
ted. The  elision  of  vowels,  and 
the  accent  are  particularly  mark* 
ed.  The  verses  which  have  been 
foitted  into  the  booky  by  the  former 
editor,  are  pointed  out  as  spurious* 
and  several  lines  cocrected  or  in- 
terposed by  ihe  editor  himself,  in 
order  to  give  Ahat  appearance  of 
system  and  consistency,  which 
Milton  himself  would  have  done> 
if  he  Jbad  been  able  hinlself  to 
have  <revisod  and  corrected  XX\% 
whole  poem. 

Such  IS  tlic  account  whiph  Bent- 
ley gives  of  his  own  edition.  He 
then  very  happily  compares  Para- 
dise Lost,  in  its  former  state,  with 
the  dtftidations  s^  '^initv  and  edi- 
tor, and  debased  by  tlie  malignity 
of  his  enemien,  to  the  condition  of 
the  beautiful,  though  poor  And  ill- 
dressed  virgin,  in  Terence's  Fhor^ 
wio  ; 

"" Ut,  fl/.V^S    BOK.I 

/«  ijua  ineitft  JormOf  fuse  fornuim  ex- 
thiguerent. 

He  then  eadeavours  to  account  for 
the  silence  of  the  criticks  with  re- 
gard to  the  faults  which  he  had 
pointed  out,  and  thus  concludes  : 
«  Who  durst  oppose  the  universal 
vogue  ?  and  risque  his  own  charac- 
ter, while  he  laI)oured  to  exalt 
Milton's  ?  I  wonder  i-iU^er,  that  it 
is  done  even  npw^  •    ilad  thcst' 


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LirS  OF  BENTLlTi 


very  notes  been  written  forty  years 
ago,  it  woukl  thai  have  been  pru- 
dence to  have  suppressed  t)^m, 
for  fear  of  injuring  one's  rising  for-  . 
tone.'  Btit  now,  when  seventy 
jetktU  jamdudum  memorem  monuer' 
tint  J  and  spoke  loudly  in  my  ears,> 

Mitte  levet  tpet  et  certaminadvoitiarum  s 

I  made  the  notes  extenifiore^  and 
put  them  to  the  press  as  soon  as 
made  ;  without  any  apprehension 
of  git>wing  leaner  by  censures,  or 
jHumper  by  commendations.'* 

We  shall  not  pretend  to  enter 
into  a  minute  examination  of  Bent- 
ley's  notes  and  corrections  of  this 
noble  poem.  That  he  has  im- 
proved several  passages  is  certain, 
lOid  that  he  has  made  many  trifling 
remarks,  and  many  unjustifiable 
and  indeed  unnecessary  alterations 
cannot  be  denied.  The  text,  how- 
ever, he  has  not  violated,  but  has' 
given  all  his  alterations  in  the  mar- 
gm. 

His  plan  seems  strange  and  un- 
warrantable. Above  three  hund'^ 
red  of  Milton's  verses  are  inclosed 
in  hooks,  as  spurious,  and  above 
seventy  either  wholly  written  or 
altered  by  the  editor  hknself,  are 
proposed  to  supply  their  places* 
These,  he  hopes,  will  not  be  found 
dUagreemg  from  the  Mikonian  cha- 
racter. Besides  these  innovations^ 
in  above  three  hundred  lines,  he  of- 
fers a  change  of  two  or  more  words, 
and  in  above  six  hundred  more,  one 
word  only  is  altered.  Such  was 
his  rage  for  emendation. 

The  sacred  top  of  Horeb,  for  «^- 
crtf/,  b  an  improvement ;  but  when 
he  wishes  to  read  ardent  gems,  in 
Idle  third  book,  for  orient  gems  ; 
and  in  the  fourth^  radiant-  pearl, 
for  orient  pearli  we  cannot  but  ex-^ 
claim 

,    ^>  novuf  hie  ho9pet  ? 
But  in  Book  V.  v.  177,  when  he 
proposes  ye  Jour  other  wandering- 


«lfir#y  instead  of  yt  Jhe^Jtm^  be- 
cause the  «tm,  Jltool^  and  Vam 
had  been  already  named  in  the 
Momiag  Hymn,  we  are  indeed 
surprised.  Did  not  Bentley  knov 
that  the  9un  is  not  one  of  the  pla- 
nets, and  that  the  eanh  is,  and  was 
certainly  intended  by  Milton  to 
complete  the  number ^r ;  as  in 
the  eighth  book  he  says,  ^Tk 
fdanet  earth  ^"  The  change  of 
darkne—  -vidbU  into  traru/aatom 
gloom  is  idle  and  unwarrantabie, 
though  trans/ucuouB  be  of  the  ^ 
toman  character* 

The  passages  of  this  adminbk 
poem  which  our  critick  rejects  are 
usually  those,  which  comtiD  sini- 
lies  or  descriptions.  Why  these 
ornamental  parts  of  the  woii, 
though  sometimes  defecnve^Rto 
be  deemed  interpolatiops,  vouU 
reqtiire  no  common  pordoo  d 
sagacity  to  determine.  To  m 
these  appear  beautie:  To  confesa 
Ihe  truth,  Bentley,  with.ali  his  ai- 
tical  acumen,  was  ill  ctlcuialfi^ 
for  a  corrector  of  Milton's,  ▼osev 
He  is  too  daring,  and  does  not  ap- 
pear to  poase&s  any  extraordiiiary 
portion  o£  fioeticai  ta9te^  which  wis 
highly  requisite.  "The  pod'l 
eye,  in  a  fine  frenzy  rolling:,"  scent 
not  to  have  fallen  to  his  lot  ;  and 
even  in  his  grammatical  strictures 
he  is  sometimes  mistaken,  as  tbt 
Bishop  of  London  has  obserted. 

Let  not  this  edition,  hoifcfcr,be 
deprived  of  its  deserU.  Many  « 
his  remarks  are  acute,  and  acrew 
of  his  emendations  are  certfifilf 
improvements.  Among  thess 
may  be  reckoned  «  Ichvroui  hu* 
mor  issuing  flow'd,"  which  he  d^ 
fends  by  the  well-known  lifie « 
Homer. 

and  in  Book  IV.  v.  944, 

.« ««  With  songs  to  h,v-mn  his  thww 

And  practise  ditcipline  to  cringt  w 
fight," 


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LIT!  n  SBltVLST.T 


instead  of  ftractitl'd  dutanest* 
This  emendtftion  is  established  by 
verse  954,  in  which  Gabriel  says  : 

"  Was  thi«  yoor  ditdjdint  ?"— 

He  ought,  indeed,  in  justice,  to 
have  pointed  out  the  beauties  of 
the  work,  as  well  as  its  errors — 
for  though  he  coniforts  himself 
ifi  Latin  and  Greek  z 

*•  yacta  est  diea,  and  Aon  injusta  cecini  : 

JUif  t0Myi  nm  akku, 
GH  xt  /a  ri/«40iirf«  fuouda  It  fintmrn  Zn/r," 

in  his  concluding  note  ;  yet  if  he 
kad  yalued  his  reputation  more 
than  the  advice  of  his  friends,  or, 
perhaps,  than  liis  own  opinion  of 
bis  abilities,  he  certainly  would 
never  have  assumed  such  an  office^ 
as  editor  and  revieer  of  Milton, 
but  would  have  declined  the  task 
imposed  on  him  by  her  Majesty. 

These  notes  roused  an  army  of 
petty  criticks,  who  stood  forth  as 
champions  of  the  injured  poet. 
The  Grub-street  Journal,  and 
other  periodical  works,  attacked 
the  critick.  But  of  all  the  pam- 
phlets and  remarks  which  were 
then  puUishcd,  Dr.  Peaixe's  re^ 
•view  of  the  text  of  Paradise  Lost, 
with  considerations  on  Bentley's 
emendations  and  new  corrections, 
Was  of  the  most  consequence. 
The  principal  part  of  these  re- 
marks, however,  has  been  incorpo^ 
fated  into  the  late  Bishop  of  Bris- 
tol's edition  of  Milton's  poetical 
works,  so  that  as  our  readers  in  ge- 
neral must  be  well  acquainted 
with  them,  we  forbear  transcrip- 
tions, and  shall  only  obsei*ve,  that 
Newttn  and  Pearce  seem  unwar- 
rantably severe  in  their  strictures 
•n  Bentley's  corrections.  Let  it 
be  remembered,  likewise,  that  the 
learned  editor  of  the  new  Biogra^ 
phia  Britannica  is  of  the  same 
opinion. 


It  was  obserred,  onijest  evidence 
Off  a  writer  in  the  Grub-stPcct  Jour* 
nal,  who  received  the  intelligence, 
from  Dr.  Ashenhurst,  that  Bentley 
bad  employed  eight  or  nine  ]rear» 
in  preparing  his  Milton,  ahkougk 
he  talks  of  extemfiorary  notes,  ior 
his  preface.  This  may  be  true^ 
yet  it  does  not  contradict  the  Doc- 
tor's assertion.  For  he  might^ 
have  formed  his  plan,  and  have, 
acquainted  Dr.  Ashenhurst  withr 
hb  intention,  and  yet  not  hnvt 
written  his  notes  until  the  book 
was  going  to  the  printer.  He 
might  even  have  noted  his  corrcc*' 
tions  on  the  margin  of  a  Milton^ 
and  yet  have  been  prevented  froni 
explaining  them,  by  indisposition^ 
or  the  disputes  in  which  he  wa« 
involved  with  the  university  dur-< 
ing  that  period. 

We  shall  conclude  these  loose 
retnariis,  with  n  passage  from  Dr^ 
Johnson's  life  of  MUton,  whose 
criticism  on  Paradise  Lost,  can<* 
Bot  be  praised  too  loudly,  or  peru- 
sed too  frequently  ^— ^<  The  gene*' 
rality  of  my  scheme  does  not  ad«4 
Bvit  tlie  frequent  notice  of  verbal 
inaccuracies  ;  which  Bentley,  bet« 
ter  skilled  in  grammar  than  in: 
poetry,  has  oft^m  found,  though 
he  sometimes  m&de  them,  and 
which  he  imputed  to  the  obtru- 
sions of  a  reviser,  whom  the  au^ 
thor's  blindness  obliged  him  to  em-* 
ploy.  A  supposition  rash  and 
grotmdless,  if  he  thought  it  true  ; 
and  vile  and  pernicious,  if,  as  is 
said,  he  in  private  allowed  it  to  be 
false." 

Bentley  never  attempted  any 
defence  of  this  work,  but  permit- 
ted his  enemies  to  triumph,  and 
the  criticks  to  cavil.  He  seemed 
at  last  inclined  t<r^njoy  the  otium 
cum  dignitatej  and  to  leave  disputes 
and  criticisms  to  those  whose  age, 
health,&  spirits  were  better  calcula- 
ted to  endure  iatiguevand  who  wens 

£t  eantare  rARZ%,et  res/>ondereJ>araU- 


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K^. 


LfTB  OY  VKHTLBT. 


A  slight  paralytick  stroke  had 
weakened  his  constitution  :  his 
frame  was  frequently  disordered, 
and  his  mind  easily  rufiled.  Dur- 
ing the  contest  about  the  visitato* 
rial  power,  when  Bishop  Moore, 
with  whom  he  had  long  lived  in 
Labfts  of  intimacy,  appeared  in 
court,  on  the  opposite  party,  he 
was  so  affected  with  the  sight  of 
bis  old  friend,  hi  such  ^  situation, 
that  he  immediately  fainted  a<- 
way. 

.  Bcntlcy  wa«  yery  severely 
though  surely  \'ery  improperly 
aatirized  by  Pope,  in  the.  fourth 
book  of  the  Danciad-  The  lines 
are  well  known,  and  were  occa- 
sioned by  an  opinion,  which  was 
forced  from  Bentley,  with  respect 
to  tlie  translation  of  Homer,  at 
Atterbury's  table,  while  Pope  was 
present.  The  bishop  very  impru- 
dently and  indelicately  asked  the 
critick  what  be  thought  of  the 
English  Homer.  The  Doctor 
eluded  the  question  for  some  time* 
but  at  lasts  when  he  was  urged  to 
speak  his  sentiments  freely,  he 
said ;  "The  vei'ses  are  good 
verses,  but  the  work  is  not  Homer, 
it  is  Spondanus  I"  Pope  seldom 
forgot  injuries,  and  many  years 
after  this  conversation,  lie  assigned 
a  place  in  the  Dunciad  to  our  Bri- 
tish Aristarchus.  Never  was  sa- 
tire more  illiberal  or  unj  ust.  Pope 
was  not  sufficiently  acquainted  with 

»  ancient  literature  to  be  capable  of 
deciding  on  Bentley 's  critical  alnli- 
ties.  He  might  see  that  many  of 
his  notes  on  Milton  were  tiding, 
a?xi  that  his  remarks  on  Horace 
were  often  bold  and  hazardous,  but 
of  his  solid  learning,  his  extensive 
knowledge,  and  his  diversified  eru- 
dition he  was  cevtainly  not  compe- 
tent to  form  a  judgment. 

In  the  year    1735  he  wrote  an 
answer  to  some  queries  of  an  Ox- 

'  ford  Gentleman,   concerning  the 


date  of  a  Persick  mabuscript  of  tk« 
four  Gospels,  which  had  been  sent 
from  Ispahan.  This  letter  has 
likewise  been  preserved  by  T^r. 
Taylor,  and  is  published  with  his 
valuable  little  tract,  De  delntorc 
dissecando.  He  says  in  his  preface^ 
that  it  is  :  "  Moie  qmdem  /tarva,  *»-.- 
^(Cf<«  aufem  et  BubtUitate  fdatUamtL, 
i^ua  (Utigenter  ficrtecta  crudituM 
Lector  mecum  aentiet  ni/iil  unquartL 
argutiu9y  nihil  aolidiu8  autveriuacfP 
Trifiode fuiasc  resfionsum,'* 

In  1738  a  libel  was  exhibited 
before  Xhe  vicarrgeneral  of  the 
Bishop  of  Ely,  ag^nst  Dr.  Col- 
batch,  rector  4>f  OrweH,  wIk>  re- 
fused to  pay  the  proxies  due  to 
Dr.  Bentley,  as  archdeacon  of 
EUy.  In  Jiii  defence  Dr.  Colbatch, 
who  bore  an  excellent  character, 
though  his  virtue  was  rather  of  the 
severer  cast,  alleged,  that  though 
Bentlty  had  been  archdeacon  for- 
ty, years,  he  had  never,  in  obedi*' 
ence  to  the  ecclesiastical  laws, 
been  known  to  visit  one  church  or 
cha]x^l.  Senteitee,  however,  was 
passed  af>ainst  Colbatch,  with  costs 
of  suit,  upon  which  in  1741  he 
published  a  pamphlet,  intituled^ 
The  State  -of  Proxies  payable  to 
Ecclesiastical  Visitors  folly  stated. 

In  1739  appeared  the  MtronO' 
mi  con  of  Afaniiius^  with  corrections 
and  notes,  by  Dr.  Bentley.  This 
edition  was  ushered  into  the  world 
by  a  dedication  to  the  Duke  of 
Newcastle,  and  a  preface  by  Mr. 
Richard  Bentley;  a  nephew  of  the 
Doctor ;  mth  whose  approbatioo 
both  these  introductory  pieces 
were  written. 

In  the  preface  he  gives  a  full  ac* 
count  of  his  uncle's  opinion  of  the 
work,  and  its  author,  as  weM  as  of 
the  rarious  manuscripts  and  piint- 
ed  copies  which  he  consulted,  in 
order  to  perfect  this  edition. 

Bentley  places  Malinius  in  the 
age  of  Augustus  ;     and  among 


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lift  OP   BBirtLBT. 


«5r 


^ther  proofs,  he  rindicates  his  as* 
sertion  by  the  termination  of  the 
genitive    cases  of   words  in  iusj 
and  ium^  which  always  terminated 
in  a  single  h  before  that  period  : 
as    jtuxilium^  jIuxUi  :     ConnUumy 
Consili  :    Imperiumj  Im/ieri  :    &cc. 
Vi-opertius  '\a  the  first  of  the  Ro- 
man poets,  whose  works  are  ex- 
tant, in  whom  this  rule  is  infring- 
ed, and  by   him  only  in   two  or 
three  instances.     Ovid,  who  lived 
rather  later,   frequently  uses  the 
double  i  ;  and  after  him,  it  became 
peneral.     This  change,  however, 
took  place  long  after  the  accession 
of  Augustus  to  the  government. 
This  remark  we  owe   to   Benlley, 
and   it  is  worthy  of  the  Bridsh 
Aristarchus.     He  first  promulgat- 
ed it  in  his  notes  on  the  Andria* 
of  Terence,  where  he  candily  cor- 
rects a  mistake    which    he  had 
made  in  a  passage  of  Horace,  and 
justifies  hid  observation  on  these 
genidve  cases,  by  ciung  a  passage 
from  Nigidius   Hguhia,  Romano^ 
rum  a  VarroTie  docttanmusy  which 
is  preserved  by  Gelliua  t>  by  which 
it  is  evident,  that  in  his  age  accent 
wks  the   only  distincdon  between 
the  genitive  and  vocadve  cases  of 
words    in    iusy  as    N.  Valerius, 
G.  Valeri,   V.  Valeri.      Bentley, 
therefore,  as  Manilius,  or  the  au- 

•  Act  II.  Sc.  I.  Vcr.  20. 
t  Apul.  Gellium.  XIH.  24 


thor  of  the  poem,  whatever  was 
his  name,  except  in  one  Greek 
word,  never  uses  the  double  i,  m 
the  Ceuua  iruerroi^caidiy  determines 
the  Astronomicon  to  have  been 
written  in  the  early  part  of  the  age 
of  Augustus. 

The  author,  according  to  our 
critick,  was.  a  foreigner,  and,  there- 
fore, the  peculiarides  of  style 
which  occur  in  Ids  work  do  not 
militate  against  his  having  been 
contemporary  with  Augustus  :  es- 
pecially as  many  of  the  excepuon- 
abie  passages  arc  proved  by  Bent«^ 
ley  to  be  spurious.  Of  his  name 
nothinr;  certain  can  be  pronounced. 
Neither  the  manuscript  copies  of 
the  poem,  nor  the  author  in  the 
course  of  his  work,  nor  the  testi- 
mony of  other  writers,  Uing  any 
certain  assistance. 

With  regard  to  the  text,  Bentr 
ley  generally  follows  the  edidoii 
of  Scaliger,  and  has  preserved  all 
the  readings  which  he  rejected. 
In  some  passages,  his  corrections 
seem  extravaganUy  different  from 
the  common  copies:  which  ap- 
pears to  be  in  some  measure  ex- 
cuseable,  when  it  is  known,  that 
no  single  piece  on  ancient  litera- 
ture was  ever  so  much  depraved 
by  the  negligence  or  ignorance  of 
transcribei*s  ;  for  the  various  readr 
ings  are  more  numerous  even  thaa 
tiic  verses  of  the  poem. 

To  Ih  cgncludtd  next  month. 


For  the  Jnthology. 

THE    REMARKER. 

Motut 


Ab.  U. 


Astronim  ignoro  ; 

rAn&rum  viseera  liuitquMm 

Inspcxi.  Jvv.  Sat.  3.     , 

I  have  no  skill  to  read  the  9tars,  nor  ever  pried  in  toads'  entrails. 

OFtheeffectSjrcsuUing  from  the  cipation  from  the  tyranny  of  su- 

Rcuei-al  effusion  of  knowledge,  one  persdiion.     An   eclipse  was  once 

of  the   most   useful,  and  perhaps  the  portent  of  revoluUon,  tl.e  fore- 

tlic  most  extensive,  is  our  cmun-  ruuner  of  defeat,  the  warning  of 


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S6t 


TUS  RfiHARtfitt. 


fiiiaine  and  of  pesu)ence  ;  but  1 
haTe  heard  of  only  one  man,  that 
thought  the  darknets  on  the  six* 
teenth  day  of  June  laat  sent,  at  a 
judgment  for  our  sins.  The  must 
artful  polidcian,  the  roost  profound 
philosopher,  the  most  heroick  and 
prudent  commander  had  less  influ- 
ence on  the  state  of  society,  than 
the  crafty  juggler,  the  master  of 
the  ceremonies  at  the  temple  of 
Delphi.  The  armies  of  the  an« 
cicnts  were  often  restrained  ftom 
combat  at  a  favourable  opportur 
nity,  because  the  traiterous  sooth* 
■ayers  declared  the  omens  inaus-* 
picious  ;  so  that,  says  Bayle,  a 
diviner  was  as  necessary  an  officer 
as  a  general. 

Sailors  have  always  been  more 
prone  to  this  weakness,  than  other 
classes  of  men  ;  and  the  com- 
mander of  the  most  numerous 
maritime  expedition  ever  fitted 
out,  was,  while  his  fleet  was  de- 
tained by  contrary  winds,  so  igno- 
irant  of  the  common  operation,  of 
ao  distrustful  of  the  kindness  of 
heaven,  as  to  sacrifice  his  daugh- 
ter  to  prointiate  a  change.  At 
present)  though  they  hardly  dare 
to  commence  their  voyage  with- 
t\xt  a  horse-shoe  on  the  foot  of 
their  foremast,  yet  in  battle  they 
rise  above  such  follies,  and,  whe- 
ther it  thunder  on  the  tight  or  the 
left,  are  as  heedless  of  auspices,  as 
their  captains  of  danger.  •  Some 
have  even  ventured  to  depart  on 
Fridays,  though  that  has  b^en  al- 
ways reckoned  among  the  dies 
nefasti  ;  and  I  have  never  heard, 
that  any  special  pu|)ishment  has 
marked  their  presumption. 

As  arts  and  sciences  ace  in  our 
days  cultivated  by  greater  num- 
bers than  formerly,  they  have  also 
become  easier  of  acquisition  :  so 
that  if  the  worship  be  less  hon- 
ourable, the  devotees  are    more 


numetovs.  The  jAystical  ffrtcw 
tices  of  astrology  smd  palmistry^ 
of  \vitch-craft  and  of  fortune'^ell- 
ing,  required  the  labours  of  a  life* 
The  beard  of  the  cunning  man 
was  always  as  letig  as  the  tail  of 
the  comet,  from  which  he  derived 
his  predicticois.  The  bstructivn 
must  have  commenced  in  child^ 
hood  to  prepare  the  adept  at  the 
age  of  puberty  for  solemn  dedica* 
tion  to  the  devil.  This  is  the 
course  to  eminence,  pointed  out 
by  universal  experience.  Of  the 
hero  of  the  Iliad  we  should  proba<» 
bly  have  suspected  the  truth,  had 
the  scholiasts  never  informed  ust 
that  the  food  of  the  infant  Achillea 
was  the  marrow  of  lions. 

The  punishment  of  sorcerers  by 
ourlawswasformeriyterrible.  The 
statute  of  Jac.  I,  who  equalled  me  in 
hating,  and  much  surpassed  me  ill 
dreading,  the^e  miscreants,  orders^ 
that  "such  as  ^consult,  covenant 
with,  entertain,  employ,  feed,  or 
reward  any  evil  spirit  to  any  intent** 
shall  be  punished  with  death.—* 
But  we  have  gradually  parted  with 
our  fear,  and  doomed  to  contempt 
those,  whom  we  once  dreaded  am 
ministers  of  helU  The  evil  has 
increased  by  this  neglect.  Siiper- 
Btidon  is  nearly  as  prevalent  in  the 
eo«ntryr  ^^  fanaticism  in  the  ciiy* 
Those  who  claim  communicatioit. 
with  familiar  demoils,  are  deserv- 
ing of  punishment ;  and  it  is  hop- 
ed the  law  may  be  executed  against 
fortunetellers  and  fanaticks,against 
pretenders  to  inspiration  from  a- 
Dove  or  from  below.  To  shew 
the  necessity  of  this,  I  relate  what 
happened  a  few  months  \since  in 
our  neiglibourhood,  an  instance  of 
credulity  equal  lamentable  and  ri- 
diculous. 

Three  men,  of  whom  one  wa^  a 
justice  In  Vermont^  and  another  a 
conjuror,  canu:  lo  a  gentleman,  re- 


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'SXB  RBMARKVR. 


6^9 


'  siding  on  the  banks  of  the  Con« 
necticut,  and  requested  leave  to 
diij  in  his  garden  for  a  chest  of 
money.  That  this  treasure  was 
deiK;sited  there  he  could  not  doubt, 
wien  one  of  them  assured  him, 
that  he  had  twice  dreamed,  that  On 
the  riijhthand  t)f  the  road  was  a 
hij^h  rock,  strangely  notched  at  the 
top>  and  at  foui*  rods  distance  in  a 
north-east  course  from  the  rock, 
a  red  picket  fence,  near  which  was 
buded  tha  wealth  which  would  re- 
ward their  search.  The  dreamer 
had  not  been  in  the  vicinity  for 
many  years,  and  had  come  from  a 
great  distance,  so  that  his  circum- 
stantial description  was  sufficient 
proof  of  his  sincerity.  The  own- 
er of  the  soil  could  have  no  objec- 
lioh  to  such  a  request  ;  he  only 
demanded  one  half  of  what  should 
be  found  ;  but  was  prevailed  on  to 
accept  a  quarter. 

The  cunning  man  with  his  rod 
of  witch  hazle,  to  be  holden  in  both 
hands,  like  an  old-fasliioned  pair 
of  curling-tongs,  stalked  in  solemn 
silence  over  the  garden,  till  his 
Fod  suddenly  pointed  downwards. 
Under  this  spot  lay  the  treasure. 
Another  person  took  the  rod  ;  but 
in  his  hands  it  was  uniformly  in- 
flexible. He  was  reminded  by  the 
adept,that  the  witch  hazle  never  de- 
signates the  place,  where  money  is 
buried,  unless  it  be  wielded  by  the 
hands  of  a  seventh  son  of  a  seventh 
Mony  bom  under  the  full  blaze  of  a 
certain  planet.  Around  this  spot 
our  conjuror  desciibed  a  circle, 
and  on  the  North,  South,  and  East 
points  spread  an  open  bible.  The 
West  was  left  unprotected,  because 
on  that  side  was  the  river,  which 
the  evil  spirit  would  not  dare  ap- 
proach. 

The    party  now  beg^n    to  dig 

with  an  activity,  never   exercised 

before  ;  and  after  a  few  hours  they 

turned   up  some    bones,    among 

Vol  III.  No.  11.       32 


which  was  a  human  skull.  The 
owner  of  the  soil  knew,  that  this 
had  been  one  of  the  favourite  rest- 
ing places  of  the  Indians,  as  from 
the  neighbouring  river  they  were 
always  sure  of  a  supply  of  fish. 
However  to  encourage  these  mi- 
ners he  affirmed,  that  he  had  once, 
in  digging  on  his  farm,  thrown 
out  human  bones,  which  bled  free-i 
ly.  Nothing  could  be  a  stronger 
confirmation  of  their  hopes.  The 
pick  axe  and  spade  now  rattled  on 
the  lid  of  the  chest  ;  and  the  re- 
ward of  their  labours,  the  consum- 
mation of  their  fortunes,  and  the 
confusion  and  conviction  of  incre- 
dulous scoffers  was  now  witnin 
their  reach. 

The  famous  pirate,  Capt.  Kidd, 
who  about  a  century  and  a  half  ago 
had  amassed  wealth  by  his  depre- 
dations, never  since  equalled  but 
by  the  imperial  vagabond  ftom 
Corsica,  buried  this  money  here. 
He  was  once  chased  by  an  English 
frigate  in  Long-Island  sound,  and 
was  obliged  to  enter  the  Connecti- 
cut. Here  he  debarked,  and,  load- 
ing his  men  with  treasure,  march- 
ed across  the  country  to  descend 
the  St.  Lawrence,  *  his  only  safe 
avenue  to  the  ocean.  In  their 
journey  through  the  wilderness, 
when  any  one  tell  sick,  his  money 
was  immediately  buried,  and  he 
himself,  horresco  referens,  mur- 
dered and  deposited  upon  the  chest 
to  mark  the  spot.  In  the  same 
way  money  was  buried  by  pirates 
under  the  famous  poised  rock  on 
the  left  hand  of  the  Salem  turn- 
pike, and  I  have  never  yet  heard 
of  its  removal. 

Whether  Capt.  Kidd  ever  reach- 
ed the  St.  Lawrence  was  beyond 
the  information  of  these  labourers  ; 
but  it  had  been  commonly  believ- 
ed, that  he  had  penetrated  so  far, 
one  hundred  miles  from  the  ocean, 
and  the  indication  of  the  witch  hazle 


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B76 


»E9IUft   AKD   WaiTliras  or  DR.  BEATTIB. 


was  now  incontestable  established 
by  these  mouldcrmg  rclicks.  Un- 
happily one  of  the  company  asked 
another  to  lend  him  his  spade,  and 
the  evil  spuit,  resentiog  the  insnlt 


of  breaking  silence,  instantlf  wxA 
the  chest  and  its  treasure  fifty  feet 
lower,  where  it  has  never  aoce 
ht€ik  beard  from. 


From  tXe  Centura  Litcraria,  September,  IBO61 

*«  A  ftVSTCH  OF  THB  GXlTICf  AND  WEITING*  OF  DH.  BEATTXB,  WITH 
EXTRACTS  FROM  HIS  LIFE  AMD  LETTERS,"  LATELY  VCBLISHED  «Y  SX& 
WILLIAM    FORBES.* 

SIR  William  Forf>es's  long-ex- 
pected Life  of  Dr.  Beattie  has  at 
length  appeared  m  two  quarto  vo- 
himes  :  and  I  cannot  refrain  from 
indulging  myself  with  a  few  cur-^ 
tory  remarks,  and  »  few  extracts, 
while  my  heart  and  my  head  are 
warm  with  the  subject.  Has  it 
added  to  our  admiration  of  him 
ms  an  author  and  a  man  \  It  has 
done  both.  There  are  many  cir- 
cumstances which  combine  to  qua- 
lify Sir  William,  in  a  very  uncom- 
mon degree,  for  the  biographer  of 
this  great  poet  and  philosopher  : 
their  long,  intimate,  and  uninter- 
rupted friendship,  their  habits  of 
constant  correspondence,  and  their 
congenial  turns  of  mind,  in  parti- 
cular ;  while  the  talents,  and  the 
tharacter  of  the  survivor,  and  his 
very  extensive  &  near  acquaintance 
With  the  most  eminent  nM^n  in  the 
Mterary  world,  give  a  force  and 
authority  to  his  narration^  whkh 
lew  eulogists  can  confer. 

But  with  due  respect  to  the  ex- 
amples of  Mr.  Mason,  and  Mr. 
Hayley,  I  confess  I  am  not  entire- 
ly satbfied  with  the  plan  of  leav- 
ing a  man  to  be  principally  his 
own  biograplier,  by  means  of  a 
series  of  letters,  connected  by 
a  few  short  and  oCf:asional  narra- 
tives. I  do  not  mean  indeed  to 
depreciate  those  of  Mr.  Hayley, 


♦  We  are  happy  to  hear,  that  the  a- 
bote  work  will  shortly  appear  from  the 
Keas  of  I.  RU^  &  Co.,  New-York. 


by  comparing  them  with  his  pre- 
decessor's, which  always  from  a 
boy  disgusted  me  with  their  stiff 
and  barren  frigidity  ;  while  those 
e»f  the  former  glow  with  all  the 
warmth  of  friendship,  and  cong^ 
nial  poetick  feeling  :  but  I  alinds 
•nly  to  the  plan. 

There  are  many  points,on  which 
there  is  no  doubt  that  an  author  can 
best  delineate  his  own  character  : 
but  there  are  others,  of  which  he 
is  totally  disqualified  to  give  a  feir 
portrait,  and  of  which,  if  he  were 
qualiiied,  it  is  highly  improbable 
that  kis  Letters  should  furnish  an 
adequate  account. 

I  trust  thet-efore  I  may  be  ex- 
cused for  veniuring  the  opinion^ 
which  I  have  long  formed,  that> 
though  Letters  are  an  excellent, 
and  almost  necessary,  accompani* 
ment  of  a  Life  ;  and  though  ap- 
propriate extracts  from  them,  and 
continued  references  to  them  may 
well  be  introduced  in  the  narrative, 
yet  they  should  not  form  the 
principal  part  of  that  narrative, 
which,  as  it  seems  to  me,  should 
exhibit  one  unbroken  compositioar 
To  leave  the  generality  of  readers 
to  collect  and  combine  an  entire 
portrait,  or  a  regular  series  of 
events,  from  the  scattered  notices 
of  a  variety  of  desultory  letters, 
is  to  give  them  credit  for  a  degree 
of  attention,  and  a  power  of  dntw- 
ing  results^  which  few  will  be 
found  to  possess,  and  fewer  stitt 
have  kisuce  to  exerciae. 


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^mmw  Avp  lemXTiJioi  w  om  matth* 


f^^K 


'  Having  thus  frankly  declared 
my  sentiments,  it  is  almost  unne- 
cessary to  add,  that  I  prefer  the 
plan  adopted  by  Dr.  Currie,  in  his 
Life  of  Bums,  to  that,  which  has 
been  chosen  by  Sir  William 
Forbes  for  the  life  of  his  illustri- 
ous friend.  In  the  execution  of 
the  mode  he  has  followed  Sir 
"VVilliam  has  discovered  a  sound- 
ness of  judgment  and  taste  in  his 
selection,  an  elegance  of  language, 
a  purity  of  sentiment,  and  an  ar- 
dour of  friendship,  which  will  do 
bim  immortal  honour.  But,  as 
my  purpose  is  not  to  criticise  the 
biographer,butto  make  some  slight 
remarks  on  the  poet,I  must  proceed. 
Beattie  was  bom  a  poet ;  that  is, 
he  was  bom  with  those  talents  and 
sensibiTities,  which,  with  the  assis- 
tance of  the  slightest  education,  are 
almost  certain  in  due  time  to  vent 
themselves  in  poetry.  In  the  first 
occupation  of  his  manhood,  the 
4:are  of  an  obscure  country  school. 
Sir  Wm,  Forbes  aays,  «  he  had  a 
jiever  failing  resource  in  his  own 
tnind  ;  in  those  mecHtations  wbich 
he  loved  to  indulge,  amidst  the 
beautiful  and  sublime  scenery  of 
that  neighbourhoodjwhich  furnish- 
ed him  with  endless  amusement. 
At  a  small  distance  from  the  place 
Df  his  residence  a  deep  and  extent 
sive  glen,  finely  cloathed  with  wood, 
ritns  up  into  the  mountsdns.  Thi- 
ther he  frequently  repaired  ;  and 
there  several  of  his  earliest  pieces 
-were  written.  From  that  wild 
and  romantick  «pot,  he  drew,  a$ 
from  the  Ufe,  some  of  his  finest 
descrip^ons,  and  most  beautiful 
pictures  of  nature,  in  has  poetical 
compositions.  He  ha«i  been  heard 
to  say,  for  instance,  that  the  de- 
scription of  the  owl,  in  his  charm^- 
ing  poem  «  On  Retirement/' 

'  Whence  the  scar*d  o  wl,on  pinions  grey. 
Breaks  from  the  rustling  boughs  ^ ' 

And  down  the  lone  vale  sails  away 
J'v  more  profound  cepose  i* 


was  drawn  after  real  nature.  And 
the  seventeenth  stanza  of  the  sec- 
ond Book  of  The  Minstrel,  in 
which  he  so  feelingly  describes 
the  spot, of  which  he  most  approv- 
ed, for  his  place  of  sepulture,  is  so 
very  exact  a  picture  of  the  situa- 
tion of  the  church  yard  of  Law* 
rence^kirk,  wluch  stands  near  to 
1*13  mother's  house,  and  in  which 
is  the  school-house  where  he  was 
daily  taught,  that  he  niust  cer« 
tainly  have  had  it  in  his  view,  at 
the  time  he  wrote  the  following 
beautiful  fines. 

*  X-  et  Vanity  adorn  the  mai'bk  tomb 
With  trophies,  rhymes,  and  scutch- 
eons of  renown. 
In  the  deep  dungeon  of  ^ome  Oothick 
dome. 
Where  Night  ai>d  Desolation  /ever 
frown  T 
]^[inft  be  the  breezy  hill  that  skirts  the 
down. 
Where  a  groen  -grassy  tiirf  is  all  X 
crave. 
With  here  and  there  a  violet  bestrown. 
Fast  by  a  brook,  or  fountain's  mur- 
muring wave  ; 
And  iwany  an  evening  sun  Bhine  sweet* 
ly  on  my  grave-* 

"  It  was  his  supreme  deHght  t© 
saunter  in  the  fieWs  the  livelong 
night,  contemplating  the  sky,  and 
marking  the  approach  of  day  ;  and 
he  used  to  describe  w?ith  pccuiiap 
aninuilion  the  soaring  of  tlie  lark 
in  a  summer  morning.  A  beauti- 
ful jandscape,  which  he .  has  mag^ 
nificently  described  in  the  twentieth 
stanza  of  the  first  book  of  The 
Minstrel,  corresponds  exactly  with 
what  must  have  presented  itself  to 
his  poetical  imagination,  at  those 
occa^onS)  on  the  approach  of  the 
^i$ing  sun,  as  he  would  .view  the 
grandeur  of  that  scene  from  the? 
hill  in  the  neighbourhood  of  his 
Dative  village.  The  Y^i^h  hill, 
"Which  -rises  to  the  west  of  Foi^ 
doune,  would,  in  a  misty  morning, 
supply  him  with  owe  of  the  images 
^  beautifully  described  in  the 
iwenty-first    stanxa.       And    the 


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in 


asiavB  AND  w&rnw^s  of  sh.  bbattie. 


twentieth  stanza  of  the  second  book 
of  The  Minstrel  describes  a  night- 
scene  unquestionably  drawn  from 
nature,  in  which  he  probably  had 
in  view  Homer's  sublime  descrip- 
tion of  the  Moon  in  the  eighth 
book  of  the  Iliad,  so  admirably 
translated  by  Pope,  that  an  emi- 
nent critick  has  not  scrupled  to 
declare  it  to  be  superiour  lo  tire 
original.  He  used  himself  to  tell, 
that  it  was  from  the  top  of  a  high 
hill  in  the  neighbourhood,  tliat  he 
first  beheld  the  ocean,  the  sight  of 
which,  he  declared,  made  the  most 
lively  impression  on  his  mind. 

*'  it  is  pleasing,  I  think,  to  con- 
template these  his  early  liabit.s,  so 
congenial  to  the  feelings  of  a  poet- 
ical and  Warm  imagination  ;  and 
ther  jlore,  I  trust,I  snail  be  forgiven 
for  haviiig  dwelt  on  them  so  long." 
Sir  William  Forbes  need  have 
mude  no  apology  for  the  length  of 
th  itf  passages:  I  would  have  said 
«  O  si  sic  omnia  I"  but  that  it 
would  seem  to  imply  some  cen- 
sure ;  and  I  well  know  that  all 
could  not  be  like  this.  We  can- 
not always  be  watching  the  ciawn 
of  day  "  on  the  misty  mounuin's 
top  ;•*  nor  be  constantly  wandering 
"  aione  and  pensive"  by  the  "  pale 
beams"  of  the  **  Queen  of  Night." 
But  it^will  not  be  doubled,  tliai  in 
the  occupations  of  "  young  Ed- 
win" the  poet  described  many  of 
his  own  early  propensities  and 
amusements.  I  do  not  agree 
therefore  with  an  eminent  critick,* 
who  observing  that  Edwin  "  is 
marked  from  his  cradle  with  those 
dis;>ositions  and  propensities, 
wi  i^.h  were  to  be  the  foundation 
of  1  is  future  destiny,"  adds,  "  I 
believe  it  would  be  difficult  in  real 
biography  to  trnce  any  such  early 
indiwuiions  of  a  genius  exclusive^ 
ly  fitted  for  poetry ;    nor  do  I  im- 

*  Dr.  Aikin's  Letters    on  English 

Poetry. 


agine  that  an  exquisite  sensibility 
to  the  sublime  and  beautiful  of 
nature  is  ever  to  be  found  in  minds, 
which  have  not  been  opened  by  a 
degree  of  culture."  The  inter- 
position indeed  of  the  word  *♦  ra- 
ciusively"  a  little  qualifies  the  as- 
sertion ;  but  the  endowments  at- 
tributed by  the  poet  to  Edwin, 
though  they  are  not  exclum'rlv^ 
are  more  peculiarly^  adapted  to 
poetical  eminence. 

If  this  assertion  then  be  true, 
that  the  delineation  of  the  infant 
Minstrel  was  essentially  that  of 
the  author,  for  which  we  have  the 
authority  of  Sir  W.  Forbes,  and 
even  of  Beattie  himself,  there  is 
an  end  to  the  denial  of  parucular 
genius,  which  Johnson  was  so  fond 
of  urging,  and  which  so  manyi  on 
his  great,  but  surely  far  from 
infallible  judgment,  are  fond  of 
repeating.  Every  one,  possessed 
of  equal  fancy  and  equal  sensibili- 
ty of  heart  with  Beattie,  would 
feel  in  childhood  similar  seno- 
ments  and  siniilar  pleasures  ;  and 
I  think  it  must  not  be  questioned 
that  the  impression  of  those  scntt- 
ments  and  those  pleasures  would 
lead  a  person  of  equal  capacity 
more  peculiarly,  not  only  to  UK 
incUnation,  but,  with  the  aid  of  i 
little  industry,  to  the  power,  w 
composing  poetry. 

I  assert  again  therefore  tbattftc 
hand  of  Nature  impressed  on 
Beattie's  mind  the  character  ol  a 
poet.  He  afterwards  became  a  pw 
losopher  by  the  effect  of  accidenr, 
and  study.  All  this  indeed  be  ap- 
pears to  me  to  have  confirmed  oy 
his  own  direct  declarations. 

Hear  him  in  a  Utter  to  l^r. 
Blacklock,  dated  9  Jan.  1769. 

•♦♦*  "Perhaps  you  arc  »'*^ 
ious  to  know  what  first  indu*:^ 
me  to  write  on  this  subject, 
(Truth.)  "  I  will  tell  youj^ 
briefly  as  I  can.  In  my  yo^^^ 
days  I  read  chiefly  fot  my  ^"^ 


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•BKIV9  AirO  WRITINGS  07  DX.  BEATTIS* 


sn 


iSnent,  and  I  found  myself  best  a- 
muscd  with  the  classicks,  and  what 
we  call  the  Feiiea  Lettrea,     Meta- 
physicks  I  disliked  ;  matheniaticks 
pleased  me  better ;  but  I  found  my 
mind  neither  improved  nor  gratifi- 
ed by  that  study.      When  provi- 
dence allotted  me  my  present  sta- 
tion" (of  Professor  of  Moral  Phi- 
losophy) "  it  became  incumbent  on 
mc  to  read  what  had  been  written 
on  the  subject  of  morals  and  hu- 
man nature  :  the  works  of  Locke, 
Berkeley,  and  Hume,  were  cele- 
brated as  master-pieces    in    this 
way  ;    to   them,   therefore,  I  had 
recourse.     But  as  I  bep;an  to  study 
them  with  great  prejudices  in  their 
favour,  you  will  readily  conceive, 
how  strangely  I  was  surprised  to 
find  them,  as  I  thought,  replete 
with  absurdities  :  I  pondered  these 
absurdities  ;  I  weighed  the  argu- 
ments, with  which  I  was  sometimes 
not  a  little  confounded  ;   and  the 
result  was,  that  I  began  at  last  to 
suspect  ray  own    understanding, 
and  to  think  that  I  had  not  capacity 
for  such  a  study.     For  I  could  not 
conceive  it  possible  that  the  absur- 
dities of  these  authors    were   so 
great,  as  they  seemed  to  me  to  be  ; 
otherwise,  thought  I,  the  world 
would  never  admire  them  so  much. 
About  this  time,  some  excellent 
antisceptical  works  made  their  ap- 
pearance, particularly  Reid's  "  In- 
quiiy  into  the  Human  Mind."— 
Then  it  was  that  I  began  to  have 
a  little  more  confidence  in  my  own 
judgment,  when  I  found  it  con- 
firmed by  those,  of  whose  abilities 
I  did  not  entertain  the  least  dis- 
trust.     I  reviewed  my  authors  a- 
gain  with  a  very  different  temper 
of  mind.      A  very  little  truth  will 
sometimes  enlighten  a  vast  extent 
of  science.     I  found  that  the  scep- 
tical philosophy  was  not  what  the 
world   imagined  it  to  be  ;    but  a 
fiivoloas,  though  dangerous,  sys- 
tem of  ferbal  subtlety,  which   it 


required  neither  genius,  nor  learn- 
ing, nor  taste,  nor  knowledge  of 
mankind,  to  be  able  to  put  togeth- 
er ;  but  only  a  captious  temper,  an 
irreligious  spirit,  a  moderate  com- 
mand of  words,  and  an  extraordi- 
nary degree  of  vanity  and  pre- 
sumption. You  will  easily  per- 
ceive that  I  am  speaking  of  this 
philosophy  only  in  its  most  extrav- 
agant state,  that  is,  as  it  appears  in 
the  works  of  Mr.  Hume.  The 
more  I  study  it,  the  more  am  I  con- 
firmed in  this  opinion,*'  kc. 

The  above  extract  discovers  the 
origin  of  Beattie'S  philosphical 
works.  Those  which  follow  ex- 
hibit the  first  traces  of  his  incom- 
parable poem, "  The  Minstrel." 

Dr.  Beattie  to  Dr.  Blacklock^  22 
Sept,  1766. 
•**♦.  "  Not  long  ago  I  began  a 
poem  in  the  style  and  stanza  of 
Spenser,  in  which  I  propose  to 
give  full  scope  to  my  inclination, 
and  be  either  droll  or  patheiick, 
descriptive  or  sentimental,  tender 
or  satirical,  as  the  humour  strikes 
me ;  for,  if  I  mistake  not,  the  man- 
ner, which  I  have  adopted,  admits 
equally  of  all  these  kinds  of  com- 
position. I  have  written  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  lines,  and  am  sur- 
prised to  find  the  structure  of  that 
complicated  stanza  so  little  trouble- 
some. I  was  always  fond  of  it  ; 
for  I  think  it  the  most  harmoiiious 
that  ever  was  contrived.  It  admits 
of  more  variety  of  pauses,  than 
cither  the  couplet,  or  t!\e  aliernatc 
rhyme  ;  and  it  concludes  with  a 
pomp,  and  majesty  of  sound,  which, 
to  my  ear,  is  wonderfully  delight- 
ful. It  seems  also  very  well  adapt- 
ed to  the  genius  of  our  Ian g urge, 
which,  from  its  irregularity  of  in- 
flexion, and  number  of  monosyila- 
bles,  abounds  in  diversified  termin- 
ations, and  consequently  renders 
ourpoetry  susceptible  of  an  endless 
variety  of  legitiniatc  rhy  mes*    But 


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«r4 


OMVivs  kvm  nr&iTiiras  o?  de.  bsattie* 


I  and  so  far  from  intending  thit 
performance  for  the  press,  that  I 
am  morally  certain  it  will  never  be 
finished.  I  shall  add  a  stanza  now 
and  then,  when  I  am  at  leisure,  and 
when  I  have  no  humour  for  any 
Other  amusement  ;  but  I  am  re« 
^Ived  to  write  no  more  poetry  with 
a  view  to  publication,  till  I  see  some 
dawnings  of  a  poetical  taste  among 
the  generality  of  readers  ;  of 
which,  however,  there  is  not  at 
present  any  thing  like  an  appear- 
ance.** 

To  the  9ame,„.20  Mayy  1767. 
"  My  performance  in  Spenser's 
stanza  has  not  advanced  a  single 
line,  these  many  months.  It  is 
called  **  The  Minstrel."  The  sub* 
ject  was  suggested  by  a  disserta- 
tion on  the  old  minstrels,  which  is 
prefixed  to  a  collection  of  ballads 
lately  published  by  Dodsley,  in 
three  volumes.*  I  propose  to  give 
an  account  of  the  bitth,  education, 
and  adventures  of  one  of  those 
bards ;  in  which  I  shall  have  full 
scope  for  description,  sentiment, 
satire,  and  even  a  certain  species 
of  humour  and  of  pathos,  which,  in 
the  opinion  of  my  great  master, 
are  by  no  means  inconsistent,  as  is 
evident  from  his  works.  My  hero 
is  to  be  born  in  the  south  of  Scot- 
land, which  you  know  was  the  na- 
tive land  of  the  English  Minstrels ; 
I  mean  of  those  Minstrels,  who 
travelled  into  England,  and  sup- 
ported themselves  there,  by  sing- 
ing their  ballads  to  the  harp.  His 
father  is  a  shepherd.  The  son  will 
have  a  natural  taste  for  musick  and 
the  beauties  of  nature  ;  which, 
however,  languishes  for  want  of 
culture,  till  ^n  due  time  he  meets 
•with  a  hermit,  who  gives  him  some 
instruction  ;  but  endeavours  tp 
check  his  genius  for  poetry  and 

•  The  Rdiqucs  of  ftncient  English 
poetry^  by  Dr.  Percy, publi^ed in  17651 


advantures,  by  -represoitiDg  Ovi 
happiness  of  obscurity  and  soliUKk, 
and  the  bad  reception  which  pottrj 
has  met  with  in  almost  e?ery  age. 
The  poor  swain  acquiesces  in  tbis 
advice,  and  resolves  to  foUov  fait 
Other's  employment,  wken  cs  \ 
sudden  the  country  is  invaded  bj 
Danes,  or  English  BordeTtr9,[I 
know  not  which)  and  he  is  Btnppd 
of  all  his  little  fortune,  and  ol%d 
by  necessity  to  commence  Minstrel 
This  b  all  that  I  have  as  yet  cooGen* 
ed  of  the  plan.f  I  have  wiittcn  1 50 
j^nes  ;  but  my  hero  isnotyetbonH 
though  now  io  a  fair  wayjof  beii^ 
so  ;  for  his  parents  are  descnbed« 
and  married^  I  know  not  whetkr 
I  shall  ever  proceed  any  farther ; 
however,  I  am  not  dissatisfied  vkh 
what  I  have  written/* 

In  the  course  of  two  more  yew 
Beattie  finished  the  first  canto  of 
this  enchanting  poem  ;  and  pub? 
tished  it  early  in  the  spring  of  1771, 
It  instantly  aUracted  the  puUkk 
attention,  and  raised  the  author  ior 
to  the  first  ranks  of  famct  Gra; 
praised  it  with  a  warm  and  disiih 
terested  energy  ;  and  it  seemed  to 
have  electrified  Loid  Lytdctoai 
who  spoke  qf  it  in  a  much  higbcr 
tone  of  eloquence,  than  be  wasic* 
customed  to  reach.  I  cannot  re: 
sist  transcribing  the  short  butbeau- 
t^ful  letter  here. 

IfOrd  LyttUton  to  Mrs.  J^tfttag^i 

6  AXarch^  1771. 

« I  read  your  «  Minstrel"  W 

night,  with  as   much  raptuieas 

poetry,  in  her    noblest   sveett^ 

t  But  he  once  afterwirdf  told SirW 
Forbes,  "he  proposed  to  htvc  introoQC- 
ed  a  foreign  ene;aiy  as  invading  hi*  ^ 
try,  in  consequence  of  which  The  Mw* 
strel  was  to  empjoy  himself  in  ro«^ 
his  countrymen  to  arm?.*'  ^^  j)/ 
This  was  probably  the  result  «  W 
fiiead  Gray*s  suggestion. 


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GENIUS  AND   WRITINGS  GF   DR.  BEATTIC 


571 


charms,  ever  raised  in  my  soul. 
It  seemed  to  me,  that  my  once 
most  beloved  minstrel,  Thomson, 
was  come  down  from  heaven,  re- 
fined by  the  converse  of  purer 
spiiits  than  those  he  lived  with 
here,  to  let  me  hear  him  sing  again 
the  beauties  of  nature,  and  the 
finest  feelings  of  virtue,  not  with 
human,  but  with  angeiick  strains ! 
I  beg^  you  to  express  my  gratitude 
to  the  poet  for  the  pleasure  he  has 
given  mc.  Your  eloquence  alone 
can  do  justice  to  my  sense  of  his 
admirable  genius,  and  the  excellent 
Hsc*  he  makes  of  it.  Would  it 
were  in  my  power  to  do  him  any 
•ervicc  T** 

In  a  letter  dated  6  July,  1772, 
the  author  declares  that  the  second 
canto  had  been  nearly  finished 
these  two  years  ;  but  it  was  not 
published  till  1774,  accompanied 
by  a  new  edition  of  the  first  canto. 

In  the  mean  time  Beattie's  do- 
mestick  affiictions  increased  with 
his  fame  ;  and  embittered  the  ex- 
quisite satisfaction,  which  he  would 
otherwise  have  derived  from  the 
flattering  station  he  now  held  iti 
society.  To  these  I  think  we  must 
attribute  the  change  of  sentiments 
on  a  very  important  topick,  which 
the  latter  part  of  the  following  most 
eloquent  letter  seems  to  discover. 

Dr,  Beanie  to  Mrs,  MontagVj  26 
Jufyy  1773. 
'•*  Youf  mpst  obliging  and  most 
excellent  letter  of  the  14th  current, 

•  The  Rev.  Mr.  Alliaon,  the  elegant 
author  of  «•  Essays  on  the  Nature  and 
Principles  of  Taste,**  and  the  husband 
of  Dr.  Grei3for)'s  daughter,  feelingly 
observes,  «•  I  do  not  know  any  thing  that 
Lord  Lyttleton  has  written,  that  so 
^ronff-ly  marks  the  sensibility  and  puri- 
ty  of  his  taste.  The  allusion  to  Thorn- 
■on  is  singularly  affecting,  and  consti- 
^tes  the  finest  praise,  Uut  ever  was 
»>««towed  on  »  poet."  - 


bore  the  impression  of  Socrates  on 
the  outside.  He,  if  I  mistake  not, 
piqued  himself  on  having  constant-* 
ly  resided  in  Athens,  and  used  to» 
say,  that  he  found  no  instruction 
in  stones  or  trees  ;  but  you.  Mad- 
am, better  skilled  in  the  human 
heart,  and  more  thoroughly  ac- 
quainted with  all  the  sublimest 
affections,  do  justly  consider  that 
quiet  which  the  country  affords, 
and  those  soothing  and  elevating 
sentiments,  which  **  rural  sights 
and  rural  sounds"  so  powerfully 
inspire,  as  necessary  to  purify 
the  soul,  and  raise  it  to  the  con- 
templation of  the  first  and  greatest 
good.  Yet,  I  think,  you  rightly 
determine,  that  absolute  solitude 
is  not  good  for  us.  The  social  af* 
fections  must  be  cherished,  if  we 
would  keep  both  mind  and  body 
in  good  health.  The  \irtues  are 
all  so  nearly  allied,  and  sympathise 
so  strongly  with  each  other,  that 
if  one  is  borne  down,  all  the  rest 
feel  it,  and  have  a  tendency  to  pine 
away.  The  more  we  love  one 
another,  the  more  we  shall  love 
our  Maker  :  and  if  we  fail  in  duty* 
to  our  common  parent,  our  breth- 
ren of  mankind  will  soon  discover 
that  we  fail  in  duty  to  them  also. 

"In  my  younger  days  I  watf 
much  attached  to  solit^de^nd  could 
have  envied  even  «  The  Shepherd 
of  the  Hebride  isles,  placed  far  a- 
mid  the  melancholy  main."  I 
wrote  Odes  to  Retirement,  and 
wished  to  be  conducted  to  its  deep- 
est groves,  remote  from  every  rude 
sound,  and  from  every  vagrant 
foot.  In  a  word,  I  thought  the 
most  profound  solitude  the  best. 
But  I  have  no^  changed  my  mind.' 
Those  solemn  and  incessant  ener- 
gies of  imagination,  which  natural- 
ly take  place  in  such,  a  state,  are 
fatal  to  the  health  and  spirits,  and 
tend  to  make  us  more  and  more 
unfit  fw  Ae  business  of  life  :  the 


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$7% 


0ILTA. 


soul,  deprived  of  those  ventilations  ^ 
of  passion,  which  arise  from  social 
intercourse,  is  reduced  to  a  state 
of  stagnation  ;  and  if  she  is  not  of 
a  very  pure  consistence  indeed, 
Mrill  be  apt  to  breed  within  herself 
many  "  monstrous  and  m  iny  pro- 
digious things,"  of  which  she  will 
find  it  no  easy  matter  to  rid  herself, 
even  when  she  is  become  sensible, 
of  their  noxious  nature." 

I  have  no  room  here  to  enter 
into  a  disquisition  upon  the  very 
interesting  subject  of  solitude. 
The  objections  to  it  thus  urged  by 
Beaitic  deserve,  no  doubt,  very  se- 
rious consideration.  But  they  do 
not  convince  me,  expressed,  as  they 
are,  in  general  terms.  Nay,  I 
confess  I  could  have  wished  they 
had  never  appeared  under  this 
poet's  authority  ;  because  they 
take  something  from  the  pleasure 
we  feel  in  some  of  the  finest  pas- 
sages of  his  best  poems.  For  my 
part,  it  appears  tome,thatas  long  as 
God  endows  individuals  with  more 
energetick  capacities,  with  more 
tender  sensibilities,  with  higher 
hopes,  and  6ublimer  sentiments 
than  the  mass  of  mankind,  so  long 
must  solitude  be  the  proper  sphere 
of  their  human  existence.  If  it 
do  tend  to  '«  make  us  unfit  for  the 


buuneu  of  life,*'  it  fits  us  for  wmt- 
thing  much  better  :  for  that  imd- 
lectual  eminence  and  purity  of 
heart,  which  exalt  our  nature^ud 
almost  lift  us  into  an  higher  order 
of  beings  ;  for  those  mental  exer- 
tions, by  which  the  heads  and  hearts 
of  thousands  have,  century  kftcr 
century,  been  ameliorated,  -id 
drawn  away  from  the  low  and  sd- 
fish  ambitions  of  the  world ;  ^ 
by  which  nations  hava  sometiino 
been  electrified  from  thdr  siuis- 
bers  into  efforts  that  have  saraJ 
them  from  impending  dt^tructb! 
I  am  now  older  than  Dr.  ficnttk 
was,  when  he  expressed  these  sea- 
timents,  and  I  do  not  find  that  nr 
love  of  solitude  diminishes.  1  dv 
cover  no  "  stagnation  of  the  soul;" 
the  day  is  not  long  enough  for  tbc 
enjoyment  of  my  books,  and  those 
pure  and  innocent  wanderings  of 
the  fancy,  in  which  I  delight ;  lod 
in  the  deep  woods  and  silent  t^ 
lies,  I  find  "  no  monsters"  of  Iicn 
rour,  which,  alas  I  I  too  fi^ueottf 
meet  in  society,  but  on  the  coo- 
trary,       * 

*'  Resentment  sinks  ;  Disgust  witlKB 

me  dies. 
And  Charity,  and  meek  ForgiTeacsi 

rise, 
And  melt  my  soul,  and  OTeHbw  aiv 

eyca.*' 


For  the   Motuhfy   Anthology, 

SILVA. 

Hue  vina,  et  unguenta  et  ninium  breves 

Florcs  amocnx  ferre  jube  rose.  Hoaace. 


A    LADY  S   FOOT. 

WHAT  in  nature  is  so  beauti- 
ful, so  lovely,  so  tender,  as  the  lit- 
tle foot  of  a  fair  lady  !  Surely  this 
sweet  part  of  the  human  form  was 
made  for  execution,  yet  unknown. 
The  hand  is  exercised  by  orators 
to  p^ve  force  to  utterance,  and 
strength  to   expressions    of    the 


M,  SI. 


the 


strongest  passions.  In  grief 
hand  is  irresistibly  drawn  to  the 
bosom,  and  its  pressure  gives  t«- 
lief.  The  finger  pointed  in  scflrt 
is  the  plainest  signal  of  conteiBi<» 
and  the  hands  clasped  and  upliM 
to  heaven  is  the  most  solctfi « 
all  expressions.  I  have  setf  * 
tweet  woman  in.gric^  and  the* 


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Ul't^* 


$77 


"weA  ibore  soirdV  in  the  attitude  of 
her  hand,  and  more  meekness  and 
plaintiveness  in  a  certain  pnoumful 
position  of  her  fingers,  than  in  the 
holiness  of  her  uplifted  counte- 
nance} or  in  the  tear-drops  that 
hung  on  her  eye-lashes.  If  the 
hand  b  so  powerjful  and  efficient 
an  engine  of  the  soul,  why  shouW 
the  Jbot  be  considered  merely  the 
pedestal  of  the  human  stdtue  ? 
What  gives  the  march  to  the  hero, 
the  stride  to  the  conqueror,  fleet- 
ness  to  the  lover,  and  the  bewitch- 
ing balance  of  attitude  to  woman  i 
Who  knows 

Th^love  that  slumbers  in  a  lady's  foot  ? 

If  the  cavalier  throws  himself  at 
the  feet  of  his  mifctr^ss,  why  should 
not  his  lips  press  and  breathe  on 
them  the  spirit  of  love  ?  Why 
should  not  his  hand  impart  to  them 
tlie  thrillings  of  it9  touches  ?  Oh, 
how  have  I  started,  and  longed  for 
a  moUiter  manua  imfiostdt^  when  I 
have  beheld  Crispin  with  his  mea- 
sure at  the  foot  of  a  lady  !  Oh, 
how  have  I  shuddered,  when  I  have 
seen  BellindaV  dear  little  foot  sink 
forever  out  of  sight  in  the  pitchy 
abyss  of  his  palm  !  Oh,  how  have 
I  quaked,  when  I  have  seen  the 
dear  little  thing  swallowed  up  for- 
ever in  the  griping  jaws  of  his  fist ! 
How,  too,  has  my  fancy  caught 
fire,  when  sitting  at  an  awful  dis- 
tance from  Dorinda,  I  have  espied 
this  sweet  little  integer  nestling* 
and  cuddling  on  her  cricket ! 
How  has  my  imagination  trans- 
formed the  vile  four-legged  stool 
into  a  little  shrine,  and  her  foot 
into  the  offering  of  beauty  to  love  1 

FRENCH    PREJYDICE. 

The  English  criticks  are  not  so 
ftiU  of  prejudice  in  their  literary 
^iniofis,  as  the  French.  It  seems 
that  the  latter  aspire  to  sovereignty 
JH  letters,  as  in  arms.  In  both 
Vol  III.  No.  11.        iK 


they  afre  great ;  yet  the  field  of 
litei-ature  they  have  not  won  from 
the  English,  and  they  ought  to  be 
ashamed,  in  such  a  noble  and  dig- 
nified contest,  to  take  by  fraud, 
what  ought  to  be  the  reward  of 
honourable  warfare.  The  English 
extol  the  tragedies  of  Comeillei ) 
Racine,  and  Voltaire.  Indeed^ . 
Adam  Smith  says,  that  the  Phedre 
is  the  most  perfect  tragedy  that 
has  ever  been  written.  Johnson 
often  praises  Boileau,  and  Hume 
and  Gibbon  vitiated  their  style  by 
devotion  to  French  literature. 
The  French  have  sometimes  done  - 
justice  to  England  ;  but  we  know 
that  Mrs.  Montague  wrote  a  vol- 
ume expressly  to  vindicate  Shakes-  { 
peare  from  the  aspersions  of  Vol- 
taire, and  every  reader  of  La  Harpe 
regrets  to  see  his  mind  poisoned 
by  prejudice.  From  him  Shake* 
speare  and  Milton  recei^-e  little, 
mercy,  and  when  the  critick  is 
comparing  the  Lutrin  of  Boileau 
with  Pope's  Rape  of  the  Lock,  in- 
stead of  accurately  adjusting  their 
respective  merits,  and  impartially- 
determining  his  opinion  of  Boilcau's 
superiority  from  regular  princi- 
ples of  criticism,  he  gives  every 
merit  to  his  countryman,  and 
leaves  poor  Pope  so  naked,  that, 
were  his  merits  to  rest  on  his 
mock-epick,  he  would  make  a 
prominent  figure  among  the  he- 
roes of  the  Dunciad.  Other  in- 
stances might  be  mentioned,  but 
it  is  unnecessary  ;  the  two  nations 
have  always  been,  secretly  or  open* 
ly,  rivals  and  enemies,  and  there 
is  no  hope  that  this  opposition  will 
soon  be  changed.  Perhaps  this 
general  animosity  may  have  orig- 
inated excellence  in  letters,  as  in 
war ;  and  if  we  sigh  for  the  miseiy, 
which  the  mutual  hatred  has  occa- 
sioned, (which  is  commonly  mere  . 
affectaiion)  we  may  rejoice  (per- 
haps with  the    joy  of  sincfiit|[)j 


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SMTT^ 


thtft  th^  sfttire  trtast  he»  jpn^ced 
po^ms,  cfiscoupses,  letters,  and 
critical  opinions,  sparkling  with 
setlse,  wit,  and  imagination. 

TftBf  (^LAssiclt  cttm. 
When  Horace,  Virgil ^  Vatro*^ 
and  Mecjcnas,  used  to  ftneet  to 
drink  wkie,  after  they  had  crowned 
their  foreheads  with  roses  and 
niyrtles,  there  was  a  comblnatton 
of  intellect,  devoted  to  revelry, 
Which  miTSt  have  been  very  plea- 
sant and  interesting.  Horace  re- 
cited his  charming  odes,  and  en- 
tirely forgot  his  ieHbus  satires  and 
gTodtny  lectures.  Virgi!  chaunted 
his  melodious  poetiy,  and  gave  to 
his  versification  a  grace)  a  tender- 
ness, and  harmony,  whieh  must 
have  entranced  the  accordant  minds 
of  his  poetical  friends.  What 
cotrid  be  more  delightful  ?  Here 
Were  friendship,  and  roses,  and 
wine,  and  poetry  ;  the  loveliness 
of  morals,  the  luxury  of  the  senses, 
and  the  enchantments  of  fancy. 
If  they  wanted  pathos  and  deep 
sentiment,  Varius  couM  pour  out 
the  whole  force  of  tragedy  ;  critical 
taste  and  Ingenuity  sparkled  from 
Mecaehas ;  aiid  good  conversation 
ahd  refined  feelings  directed  and 
dignified  the  intercourse.  The 
htaltK  of  the  emperour  was  a  fa- 
vourite toast.  Homer,  Anacreon, 
and  Sophocles  Were  the  tcpicks  of 
talk.  Vh^il  wouW  \\'Hlingly  de- 
clare,- that  if  he  was  not  snpcriot^r 
to  the  father  t>f  cpick  poetry,  He 
might  at  least  bear  a  comparison 
With  him,  to  whom  he  need  not 
bfe  ashamed  to  be  mfcriour.  Ho- 
race might  jovially  "and  honestly 
confess,  that  Anacreon  could  drink 
rtore  wine,  but  that  he  was  nqt  a 
better  poet  thah  himself ;  and  the 
noble  Varius,  while  he  secretly 
congratulated  himself  on  an  equal* 
ir^  with  the  Grecian  tragedians, 
c4ald  feel  no  de^yoxidciicy  of  mind 


bv  ^  iiccid^te  of  tine  sod  tfie 
ravages  of  barbarians,  which,  bf 
destroying  his  i^ays,  have  lessen- 
ed the  fame  of  the  author,  and  ob- 
scured the  reputation  of  the  Ro- 
man stage.  As  for  IVIecxnaa,  he 
was  a  gentleman,  a  criiick,  and  a 
scholar.  He  was  contented  with 
quaffing  his  wine,  or.  If  he  thooght 
of  ^  buing  often  in  the  months  ef 
men,'*  his  vanity  was  gratified  in 
the  pleasant  recollection  that  Vir- 
gil and  Horace  had  consecrated  to 
him  the  greenest  wreaths  of  ftiend- 
ship  and  poetry. 

€LEAXI.lirESa, 

A  gentleman  once  told  xne,  that 
cleanliness  was  nearly  allied  t# 
godlhiess.  This  ia  rather  bold  ; 
but  as  it  might  have  originated 
from  a  nice  sense  of  physical^  pu* 
rity,  I  wooid  not  very  harshly 
condemn  it.  I  believe  every  one 
who  practises  cleanliness,  wM]  fc^ 
the  excellent  effects  produced  ^ 
a  suitable  attention  to  this  mkiof 
virtue.  The  intellect  is  gratefully 
affected ;  the  blood  conrsesthMHigh 
the  'System,  and  giWs  vigour  aA4 
activity.  Beauty  is  also  the  eim* 
sequence  of  purity.  CosmetM* 
only  mar  the  skin.  They  df.su ey 
the  swell  of  the  muscles,  atid  the 
dear  blueness  of  the  veins  ;  they 
tear  to  pieces  tht  nioe  net  work  m 
the  skin,  and  reduce  to  chill  uM* 
formky  ef  cobur  the  various  cintsy 
which  should  UlnmiBate  the  cowk 
tenance.  They  also  Inskiviate  poi* 
son  into  the  body,  and  noon  tlie 
fine  elasticity  of  the  system  gives 
way  t6  moi^  clayines^  and  slirg- 
gifth  creeping  of  the  blood  sticcee^ 
to  its  former  rushing  and  rapid  ac" 
tivity.  But  look  St  S  Freheh  wo* 
itian,  afeer  she  has  come  out  of  the 
bath.  She  is  a  perfect  Venus,' 
risen  from  the  froth  of  the  sea  ;  m 
celestial  Bglit  beams  from  hef 
eyes  {  her  lips  breathe  the  fragrance 


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fW-T*. 


n# 


.tf  be«lth|  and  her  voice  is  9iv«etc;r 
than  the  mubick  of  the  Graces  at 
the  himqiieU  of  the  Cods.  Such 
are  truly  the  divine  effects  of 
fhjac9l  purity.  The  French 
WQjqken  «re  aimoU  amphihiousi 
aa4;jtlus  is  one  great  reason  why 
ihey  are  so  beautiful.  I  am  afraid 
sny  country-women  fire  not  en^ 
;Utled  to  high  praise  for  regular  at- 
tention to  cleanHness.  I  indeed 
knovr  some)  who  use  the  tepid 
Iwuh  and  a  clean  napkin,  instead 
of  discolouring  themselTCs  with 
vile  washes^  dews,  and  ^  creams 
from  the  perfumer  ;  but  are  there 
not  too  many  gentlemen  and  ladies 
who  pass  many  months^  without 
feeling  the  luxury  of  complete  pu- 
j'ification  ?  Were  I  to  pursue  the 
.Aubject  to  nicenesa  of  detail^  l 
should  have  aplenty  of  subject  for 
many  pages  ;  but  I  hope  that  the 
iieglect  has  rather  aiisen  from  forr 
getfulness  and  inattention,  than 
jrom  dislike  to  purity  or  sympathy 
with  wdeanliness. 

OVR   COUKTKT. 

A  general  inactivity  is  our  reigur 
iog  characteristick.  We  seem 
^villing  to  c  reep  along  in  mechanicr 
al  routine,  so  that  we  very  much 
resemble  Diitchmen.  As  for  chivr 
alrous,  generous  policy  in  national 
councils  it  is  so  loWf-that  it  can  find 
no  "  lower  deep."  lu  religion  I 
Jove  quietnessv  poaceableneKs,  bui- 
mility  ;  ai^d  I  hate  the  jarring  o[ 
sects,  and  the  noisy  trampling  of 
fhiistian  combatants.  But  in  liter- 
atare  are  tl^ere  no  hopes  ?  Surdy 
the  descendants  of  Eiig^Hshmcn  io 
America  are  not  absolutely  degenr 
erate.  The  motlier  country-  ig 
fwoud  of  her  bench  of  learned 
bishops/ of  her  retired  scholar^ 
and  illustiious  profcssora  in  botli 
univ<:r6tues.  But  when  they  ask 
MS,' why  do  you  iM>t  do  something 
P»  jiprcad  the  glory  of  the  £lng^sh 


langvage,  we  are  sflent)  Hke  sieves. 
We  may  say,  tba^  we  have  aj^e 
Mhips  ai  thfi  PhiUptwui^^  and  that 
our  cannon  ba9  echoed  among  the 
ice  island*^  at  eiUier  fiQle,  This  is 
honourable,  and  tells  our  enter- 
prise ;  but  here  the  story  ends^nor 
will  I  busily  ask,  if  there  are  no 
-spots  and  stains  on  our  flag,  which 
ithe  waters  of  the  oceans  we  ti*a- 
verse,  could  not  efface.  For  my- 
self, I  think  we  ought  to  have  pro- 
duced a  few  scholars;  in  thbopin- 
ion,  however,  a(l  are  not  imani- 
mous,  but  if  they  agree  tlmt  poetry 
is  natural  to  any  cotrntry,  we.aMiat 
be  ashamed  of  our .  own.  We 
boast  of  no  epick,  tragedy,  comedy, 
elegies,  poems,  pastoral  or  amato- 
ry ...but  this  field  is  all  deteft,  a 
wide  African  sand  garden^  showing 
bnMublesi  aA4  rush^  ^od  j;e^. 

BLU£  8T0CKIKC   CLUB. 

I  know  no  lady  ,in  this  town,  and 
probably  there  is  not  one  in  th(e 
United  States,  to  be  compfired  with 
^i*s.  Montague,  at  whose  house  in 
Portman-Square,  JLondon,  the  Biue 
Stocking  Club  used  to  meet.  Yot 
there  are  ladies  hercy  wl^o  might 
Institute  and  preserve  a  literary 
converzauone  on  agreeab^le  teran^. 
^T-All  mere  f^ishionable  wometi 
should  be  excluded^  and  let  beauty 
and  riches  alone  have  no  right  of 
admission.  Also  let  no  fop  aaun- 
tter  in  the  roooi,  and  bar  the  dooiis 
Agidnst  in^gnificant  animals,  caUed 
puppies,  and  those  brutes  who  re- 
semble Yahoos.  Thus  some  ap- 
proaches might 4>e  made  to  re&>ed 
ronversation,  and  a  pleasantness  of 
^tercourse  be  introduced,  far  be^ 
yond  the  present  system  of  false 
courtesy,  shameful  itnecdote,  Ucca« 
tiouB  inuendoy  poiscmed  hints,  and 
^t^bbing  whispers,  which  now  riot 
and  rule  at  many  of  the  vulgar  an^ 
fasliionable  parties,  which  now  digf 
nify  or  dii^face  tliis  Kneti^opolisr 


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'5W 


fclLVA. 


Women  are  beings  of  the  highest 
consequence,  and  on  them  depends 
the  healthiness  or  the  contagion  of 
social  intercourse,  they  may  be  like 
angels  of  light,  diffusing  the  in- 
fluence of  pui-ity  and  goodness,  or 
the  active  agents  of  misery  and 
ruin.  By  a  pleasant  and  refined 
Bocialness,  between  gentlemen  and 
ladies  of  cultivated  minds,  the  pow- 
er of  all  would  be  communicated 
to  each  ;  manners  would  be  im- 
proved ;  erroneous  opinions  would 
llp  corrected  ;  morals  might  re- 
ceive additional  strength,  and  liter- 
ature might  be  adorned  with  new 
fascinations. 

WINTER-  EVENING. 

I  like  to  sit  in  my  study  in  a  win- 
ter evening,  when  the  wind  blows 
•  clear,  and  the  fire  bums  bright.  If 
I  am  alone,  I  sometimes  love  to 
muse  loosely  on  a  thousand  flits  of 
the  imagination  ;  to  remark  the 
gentle  agitations  of  the  flame  ;  to 
eye  the  mouse,  that  listens  at  his 
Icnot  hole,  and  then  runs  quick  a- 
cross  the  hearth  ;  or  dwell  long 
on  the  singing  of  the  wood,  when 
the  heat  drives  out  the  sap.  I  be- 
lieve that  such  reverie  softens  the 
heart,  while  it  relaxes  the  body, 
for  thus  the  senses  are  gratified  in 
miniature.  In  the  fire  I  have  the 
•ofieat  colours^  and  tlie  sweeteMt  and 
pt09t  various  undulationay  and  in  the 
gentle  musick  of  the  green  stick 
there  is  melody  for  fairies.  No 
sense  is  particularly  excited  by  my 
silver  grey,  «il ken-footed,  and 
crumb-nibbling  animal,but  perhaps 
he  might  teach  me  a  lesson  of  pru- 
dence, not  to  set  out  on  a  journey, 
till  I  have  inquired  the  dangers 
and  difficulties  of  the  way.  While 
I  am  in  this  state  of  lonely  musing,I 
sometimes  lapse  unknowingly  into 
grief  ;  for  my  guardians  are  dead^ 
and  my  friendB  are  far  from  me^ 
mj  years  are  hastening  away, "  and 


evening  with  its  hollow  blast  inur* 
murs  of  pleasures  never  to  return." 
But  tliis  state  I  do  not  like  to  in- 
dulge, for  sorrow  grows  by  mus- 
ing :  1  therefore  rouse  myself  from 
fears  that  dishearten;  to  studies 
that  strengthen  or  exhilirate  mc  ; 
and  when  I  have  lighted  a  ^igar, 
and  put  on  more  Wood,  I  track 
Park  to  the  banks  of  the  Niger,  or 
I  mount  the  walls  of  Rome  vith 
"  Bourbon  and  revenge,"  and  close 
the  evening  with  an  act  from 
Shaktspearci  the  best  of  poets  an^ 
the  wisest  of  writers. 

KUINS   OF     THEBES,    OR    LUXORK. 

In  the  distant  periods  of  anti- 
quity were  founded  the  palaces  asd 
temples  of  Luxore.  They  now 
partly  lie  on  the  deserts  of  Upper 
Egypt,  scattered  into  fragments 
and  covered  with,  rubbish,  and 
partly  they  stand  erect  in  the  tow- 
ering heights  of  solitary  columns, 
the  extensive  ranges  of  impos- 
ing colonnades)  or  the  unequalled 
magnitude  of  their  sculptured  sides. 
They  attract,  when  in  the  horizon, 
the  notice  of  scientifick  travellers, 
and  they  serve  as  land-marks  to 
caravans,  and  as  habitations  for  the 
poor  and  the  outcast.  Thus  have 
the  exertions  of  architectural 
science  contended  against  the  slow 
unceasing  efforts  of  time,  and  thus 
are  the  opulence  of  monarchs 
and  the  dignity  of  priesthood, 
commemorated  in  the  ruined  gran- 
deur of  churches  and  of  courts. 
A  traveller  into  Egypt  for  the  pur- 
poses of  science  may  honourably 
employ  himself  in  measuring  the 
dimensions  of  pillars,  cieUngs,  and 
■walls,  and  a  painter  may  commu* 
nicate  knowledge  and  pleasure  hf 
accurate  representations  of  these 
monuments  of  decay  ;  but  the  dig- 
nity of  a  philosopher  is  advanced 
in  applyi)ig  the  memorial^  of  art 
to  subserve  the  moral  duties  of  lifi?i 


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w   Mi' 


and  his  utility  is  exhibited  in  em- 
ploying the  materials,  presented  by 
a  few,  for  the  durable  advantage  of 
all.  Out  vanity  is  repressed  by 
the  consideration,  that  time  has 
destroyed  the  names  of  the  archi- 
tects and  founders  of  these  mighty 
piles.  Perhaps  their  titles  and 
dignities  were  engraven  on  the 
comer  stones  ;  perhaps  their  of- 
fices were  perpetuated  to  succeed- 
ing generations ;  and  perhaps  they 
"Welcomed  and  received  the  awful 
honours  of  adoration  ;  but  no  his- 
torian has  related  their  deeds,  no 
poet  has  sung  their  praises,  and 
irremediable  oblivion  covers  their 
names,  their  virtues,  and  their 
crimes.  Philosophy  has  deter- 
mined that  utility  is  the  proper 
foundation  of  morals.  If  part  of 
the  time,  the  wealth,  and  the  la- 
bour, which  were  expended  on  the 
architectural  glories  of  Luxore, 
had  been  applied  to  the  diffusion 
of  knowledge  and  virtue,  to  the 
practical  purposes  of  religion,  and 
to  the  great  objects  of  political 
ceconomy,  the  happiness  of  the 
people  would  have  ennobled  the 
grandeur  of  the  princes.  We 
should  then  indeed  have  se- 
riously regi-etted,  that  time  has 
covered  with  a  garment  of  dark- 
Bess  all  their  pei;sonal  and  moral 
attributes  ;  and  though  massy 
walls  and  broken  gateways  would 
not  now  be  the  evidence  of  their 
magnificence ;  though  they  might 
not  now  be  extoljed  as  the  benevo- 
Jent  guardians  of  U)e  Theban  peo- 
pie,  yejt  philosophy  would  not  be 
compelled  to  consider  them  as  the 
ostentatious  founders  of  perishable 
monuments,  where  robbers  lurk 
for  prey,  and  outlaws  find  protec- 
tion. The  nature  of  the  subject 
easily  allures  a  philosopbick  mind 
into  various  similar  reflections,  but 
the  prescribed  limits  of  this  article 
>i^ill  not  authorise  any  further  ex- 
tension of  remarks  on  the  ancient 


glories  or  the  present  ruins  of 
Luxore.  But  1  cannot  forbear  to 
remark  the  superiority  of  genius 
over  gigantick  physical  exertion. 
When  Thebes  existed  in  the  splen- 
did circumference  of  twenty-seven 
miles,  the  author  of  the  Iliad  re- 
presented the  indignant  Achilles, 
swearing  in  the  following  noble 
lines  : 


-tr}'  oV«  Qnittf 


KUreu, 
At  5'  htarlfiwvXu  uo-t,  itnici^t§t  i*  i$ 
Udrnf 

str^iv.  II.  9,381. 

Not  all  proud  Thebes'  unrivalled  wallt 
contain. 

The  world's  g^reat  empress  on  tho 
Egyptian  plain  ; 

That  spreads  her  conquests  o'er  a  thou- 
saiui  states 

And  pours  her  heroes  through  a  hun- 
dred gates. 

Two  hundred  horsemen  and  two  hun- 
dred cars 

From  each  wide  portal  issuing  to  the 
wars.  Pope's  Trans. 

Now  this  city  of  the  gods  has 
dwindled  to  a  few  mouldering  ru- 
ins, but  the  Iliad  flourishes  in  un- 
fading purity,  and  with  increasing 
honours.  Nor  should  the  advocate 
of  Homer's  greatness  refrain  from 
recording  the  obligations,  which 
opulence  and  power  owe  to  enter- 
prise and  learning ;  for  if  the  priests 
and  monarchs  of  Thebes  were  se- 
cretly compelled  by  reflection  to 
acknowledge,  that  the  corrosion  of 
time  and  the  ravages  of  war  might 
in  future  ages  destroy  their  temples 
and  palaces,  they  would  have  re- 
joiced in  triumphs  and  feasts,  had 
their  imagination  "suggested  the 
hope,  that  some  of  their  columns, 
vestibules,  and  halls,  would  havo 
been  illustrated  and  perpetuated  in 
the  learned  travels  of  Norden  ar.4 
Pococke.  Q. 

Abx;.  24,  U06. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


iu 


irit^Bti^NT^ 


'  Tor  the  Amholo^y. 

We  feel  m  siiieefe  pteatvre  in  tm  oppoitunity  of  in^tin^  frntnei^ten  to  iie  w«A| 
of  an  original  writer.  Thejr  form  a  rare  cvrioaity  in  th*  modfim  Lyceu, 
which  inrention  has  ftocked  tritk  jponsters,  and  where  pti^giarism  hti  O' 

.  bausted  her  poM^ers  in  deforming,  what  ^he  could  not  disguise.  The  essijnof 
Mr.  Foster  exhibit  in  all  the  noyelties  of  genius  the  vestigei  of  K^m^ 
which,  among  the  paste-board  scenerj  and  pamted  passions  of  our  mechoid 
scribblers,  is  as  delightfnl^as  a  rude  rock  and  wild  oak^amongthe  chkieie  gtf> 
dens  and  smooth-shaven  lawns.  Mr.  Foster  baf  certoinlf  tlioiigfat  bkA^ 
.which  is  a  peculiaritv  in  our  times,  when  books  have  supplied  the  pboeif 
re&ection,and  the  writings  of  others  have  supplanted  our  owaconceptiaoi«4 

'  jndgment  His  researches  have  hot  been  directed  by  a  wish  to  gia 
the  authority  of  great  names,   but  to  make  his  own  name  an  atttfaority  fir 

f  his  own  aentimenti.  He  has  ocji' laboured  to  give  form  and  system  to  tki 
suggestions  of  others,  but  to  develope  loid  impress  his  own  scntiBatt, 
His  energy  supports  him  through  an  enterprize,  in  which  he  ikmaii 
submission  to  his  doctrines,  and  enforces  his  demand  by  his  own  tuf» 
ces.  Mr.  Foster  writes  as  he  tliinks.  He  has  expressed  bold  thoajbi 
in  the  wordi,  in  which  they  were  conceived.  His  arguments  art  ioppW.- 
cd  by  tlie  language,  in  which  they  controled  his  own  judgmeai  Hs 
• «  opiniortB,  in  the  moment  of  their  conceptloo  sturdy  as  Hercules  b  M 
cradle,  he  has  not  cramped  into  foiiH  and  pymmetry  with  the  swsdisi 

•  bands  sf  rhetonck.  His  st}ie  exhibits. the  manly  majesty  of  a  giant  iatls 
games,  who  challenges  superiority  more  from  the  vigour  of  his  muscles,  tbi 

•  Excellence  in  the  art.  He  ha^  all  the  ease  of  courage  without  the  grace  of  ti^ 
The  letter  we  have  selected,  as  a  specimen  of  his  style  and  sentiments,  fettJi 

•  part  of  hfs  essay  *♦  On  decision  of  c^iaracter."  After  considering  the  erihrf 
an  unsettled  and  irresolute  mind,  and  the  adnmtages  of  a  firm  and  settled  p«» 
purpose,  he  proceeds  to  examine  the  elements,  which  compo^  t  (kodtl 
eharaeter.    The  third  letter  contains  part  of  this  examination. 


OK     DEClSfOV    OF     CHA&ACTER. 


This  indispensable  basis,  con- 
fidence of  opinion,  is  however  not 
enough  to  constitute  the  character 
in  question.  For  there  have  been 
many  persons  of  clear  independent 
tinderstanding,  who  have  been  sen- 
sible and  proud  of  a  much  harder 
g^sp  of  thought  than  ordinary 
men,  and  have  held  the  most  de- 
cided opinions  on  important  things 
4obcdone,who  have  yet  exhilMted,in 
the  listlessness  or  inconstancy  of 
flieir  actions,  a  contrast  and  a  dis- 
grace to  the  operations  of  their 
understandings.  For  want  of  some 
cogent  feeling  impelling  them  to- 
ward the  practical  assertion  of  ev- 
ery internal  decision,  they  have 
been  still  left  where  they  were  ; 
ancl^  dignified  judgment  has  been 
•cca  in  the  hapless  plight  of  hav- 


ing no  effective  forces  <o  eiec0^ 
its  decrees. 

It  is  evident  then,  hihI  I  ^ 
ceivc  I  have  partly  anticipatwi  tlA 
article  in  the  first  letter,  tbti  an- 
other essential  principle  of  <*J 
character  is,  a  total  incapalaliiy  » 
surrendering  to  indiffcrcnttj  * 
delay  the  serious  detcrrointlMjJ 
of  the  mind.  A  strenuows  wl 
must  ftttcnd  on  the  cencloakw" 
thought,  and  constantlyt  a*  thcf 
are  matured,  go  forth  to  tlie  k* 
complishment  of  them  vith  aB^ 
vous  agency  which  nothbg  c»nffl* 
vert  or  control.  The  intellect  ofiwci 
a  man  is  invested,  if  I  may  so  des- 
cribe it,  with  a  glowing  atmospb^rt 
of  passion,  under  the  infloeiKeof 
which  the  cold  dictates  of  reason 
take  fire,8cBpringimoactiTepowcn. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


Bfieist6]l  ^  MXiTAe'hA; 


9B$ 


Hevrtt  <nice  tviore  in  your 
thotights  to  the  persons  inost  rcf 
markably  distinguiahed  by  this  de- 
cision. You  ^vHl  perceive  that  in- 
stead of  quiescently  regarding  the 
conclusions,  which  reason  has  un- 
dergone some  labour  to  form,  as 
an  apology  for  labouring  no  fur- 
ther, they  consider  them  simply 
as  the  preparation  for  experimen- 
tal enterprise^  and  as  of  no  more 
\rorth,  till  so  employed,  than  the 
tnilombed  lamps  of  the  Rosicni- 
cians.  They  cannot  be  content 
Imig  in  a  region  of  such  tenuity,  as 
that  oF  mere  intellectual  arrange- 
ments :  they  go  thither,  as  an  am- 
bitious adventurer  anciently  went 
to  Delphi,  to  consult,  but  not  ta 
reside.  You  will  therefore  find 
them  almost  uniformly  in  deter-* 
mined  pursuit  of  some  object,  on 
which  they  fix  a  keen  and  steady 
look,  and  which  they  never  lose 
siglu bf,while  they  follow  it  through 
the  innumerable  multitude  and 
dbnfusion  of  other  things,  of  which 
the  world  is  full.  They  pursue  it, 
as  a  sportsman  does  a  fox,  at  all 
hazards,  over  hill  and  dale  and 
brook,  through  wood  and  brake 
and  every  where  ;  and  they  will 
grasp  it  at  length  unless  it  go  into 
the  earth. 

The  manner  of  a  person  actu- 
ated by  such  a  spirit,  seems  to 
s^y,...Do  you  think  that  I  would 
not  disdain  to  adopt  a  purpose 
which  I  would  not  devote ^liiy  ut- 
most force  to  effect,  or  that,  hav- 
ing thus  devoted  my  exertions,  I 
will  intermit  or  withdraw  them, 
through  indolence,  debility,  or  ca- 
price, or  that  I  will  surrender  my 
object  to  any  interference  except 
the  uncontrollable  dispensations  of 
Providence  ?  No,  I  am  linked  to 
my  determination  with  iron  bands ; 
my  purpose  is  become  my  fute, 
and  I  must  accomplish  it,  unless 
arrcjtted  by  the  sternef  force  of  ca- 
lamity or  death* 


•  Thisdispla/bf  systcwatlck  eh-'* 
ergy  seems  toindScate  a  constitu- 
tion of  mind,  in  which  the  passions 
are  exactly  commensurate  with  the* 
intellectual  part,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  holrf  an  inseparable  Corres- 
pondence with  it,  like  the  faithful 
sympathy  of  the  tides  vdth  the 
phases  of  the  moon.  There  is 
such  an  equality  and  connexion, 
that  subjects  of  the  decisions  of 
judgment  become  proportionally, 
and  of  course  the  objects  of  pas- 
sion. When  the  judgment  de- 
cides with  a  very  strong  preference, 
that  same  strength  of  preference 
takes  place  also  on  the  passions,' 
and  becomes  intense  devotion.  If 
this  strong  preference  of  judgment 
continues,  the  passions  will  there^ 
fore  be  fixed  at  a  pitch  of  constant 
energy,  and  this  will  produce  the 
style  of  conduct  which  I  have  de- 
scribed. When,  tlierefore,  a  firm 
self-confiding  judgpfnent  fidls  tor 
make  a  decisive  character,  it  is  ev- 
ident, that  either  tTiere  is  in  that 
mind  a  deficient  measure  of  pas- 
sion, which  makes  an  indolent  or 
irresolute  man  ;  or  that  the  pas- 
sions perversely  sometimes  coin- 
cide with  judgment  and  sometimes* 
desert  it,  which  makes  an  incon-' 
sistent  or  versatile  man. 

There  is  no  man  so  irresolute 
a«  not  to  act  with  determination  in 
many  single  cases,  where  the  mo- 
tive is  powerful  and  simple,  and* 
where  there  is  no  need  of  plan 
and  perseverance  ;  but  this  gives' 
no  claim  to  the  term  Charactetf 
Which  expresses  the  habitual  ten- 
our  of  a  man's  active  1>eing.  The 
character  may  be  displayed  in  the 
successive  unconnected  undeitak- 
ings  which  are  er.ch  of  limited  ex** 
tent,  and  end  with  the  attainment 
of  their  objects.  But  it  is  seen  t^ 
the  greater  advantage  In  tho«tt 
grand  schemes  of  action,  whicti 
have  no  necessary  p^iod  of  "ctm« 
elusion,  which    continue  onward 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


^u 


bieisiov  OF.  cflAkAcrtm. 


through  sUccessiTe  years,  and  ex- 
tend even  to  that  frontier  of  dark- 
ness, where  the  acting  spirit  itself 
becomes  invisible « 

I  have  repeatedly  remarked  to 
yovi,  in  conversation,  the  effect  of 
what  has  been  called  a  Ruling 
Passion.  When  its  object  is  no- 
ble, and  an  enlij^htened  under** 
standing  directs  its  movements,  it 
appears  to  me  a  great  felicity  ;  but 
whether  its  object  be  noble  or  not, 
it  infallibly  creates,  where  it  exists 
in  great  force,  that  active  ardent 
constancy  which  I  describe  as  a 
capital  feature  of  the  decisive 
character.  The  subject  of  such  a 
commanding  passion  wonders,  if 
indeed  he  were  at  leisure  to  won- 
der, at  the  persons  who  pretend 
to  attach  importance  to  an  object 
t^hich  they  make  none  but  the 
most  languid  efforts  to  secure. 
The  utmost  powers  of  the  man 
are  constrained  into  the  service  of 
the  favourite  cause  by  this  mighty 
passion,  which  sweeps  away  as  it 
advances  all  the  trivial  objections 
and  little  opposing  motives,  and 
9eems  almost  to  open  a  way  through 
impossibilities.  This  spirit  comes 
on  him  in  the  morning,  as  if  it 
darted  directly  from  the  clouds, 
and  commands  and  impels  him 
through  the  day  with  a  power  from 
which  he  could  not  emancipate 
himself  if  he  would.When  the  force 
of  habit  is  added,  the  determination 
becomes  altogether  invincible,  and 
seems  to  assume  rank  with  the 
great  laws  of  nature,  making  it  as 
ccitain  that  such  a  man  will  per- 
sist in  his  course,  as  that  in  the 
morning  the  sun  will  rise. 

A  persisting  untameable  efficacy 
•f  soul  gives  a  seductive  and  per- 
i^icious  dignity, even  to  a  character 
^d  a  coui*se,  which  every  moral 
prmciplc  forbids  us  to  approve. 
Often  in  the  narrations  of  history 
^^pd  liciioni  an  agent  of  the  most 


dreadful  designs  compels  m  ^eiiti<^ 
ment  of  deep  respect  for  the  un- 
conquerable mind    displayed    in 
their  execution^     While  we  shud- 
der at  his  activity,  wc  say  with  re- 
gret, mingled  with  an  admiration 
which  borders  on  partiality,.. .What 
a  iioble  being  this  would  have  been, 
if  goodness  had  been  hi&  destiny. 
The   partiality  is  evinced  in  the 
very  selection  of  terms  by  which 
we  refer  his  atrocity,  rather  to  his 
destiny,  than  to  his  choice.     I  won- 
der whether  an  emotion,  like  this, 
has  not  been  expenenced  by  each 
reader  of  Paradise  Lost,  re:ative 
to  the  leader  of  infernal   spirits  ; 
a  proof,  if  such  were  the  fact,  that 
a   very  serious   errour  has  been 
committed  in  the  tremendous  cre- 
ations of  the  supreme  poet.     In 
some  of  the  high  examples  of  am- 
bition, we  almost  revere  the  migh- 
ty spring  of  character  which  im- 
pelled them  forward  through  the 
longest  scries  of  action,  superiour 
to  doubt,  and  fluctuation,  and  dis- 
dainful of  ease,  of  pleasures,  of 
opposition,  and  of  hazard.     We 
bow  to  the  ambitious  spirit  which 
reached  the  true  sublime,  in  the 
memorable  reply  of  Pompey  to 
his  friends,  who  dissuaded  him 
from  venturing  without  delay,  on 
a  tempestuous  sea,  in  order  to  Ijc 
at  Rome  on  an  important  occa- 
sion :    «  It  is  necessary  for  me  to 
go,  it  is  not  necessary  for  me  to 
live."    ^ 

The  spirit  of  revenge  has  pro- 
duced wonderful  examples  of  this 
unremivtlng  constancy  to  a  pur- 
pose. Zanga  is  a  well-supported 
illustration.  And  you  may  have 
read  a  real  instance  of,  I  think,  a 
Spaniard,  who. being  injured  by- 
another  inhabitant  of  the  same 
town,  resolved  to  destroy  him  : 
the  other  was  apprized  of  this  dc- 
tennination,  and  I'cmovcd,  with 
the  utmost  secrecy  as  he  thou;i;ht^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


l^SCISIQM   OV   CHARACTXR. 


58S 


to  another  town,  at  a  considerable 
distance,  where,  however,  he  had 
not  been  more  than  a  day  or  two, 
before  he  found  that  his  enemy 
was  arrived  there.  He  removed 
in  the  same  manner  to  several  parts 
of  the  kingdom  remote  from  each 
other  ;  but,  in  every  place,  quickly 
perceived  that  his  deadly  pursuer 
-was  near  him.  At  last,  he  went 
to  South  America,  where  he  had 
enjoyed  his  fancied  security  but  a 
-very  short  time,  before  his  unre- 
lenting enemy  came  up  with  him, 
and  effected  his  tragical  purpose . 

*****.  But  not  less  of  this  in^ 
vincible  peitinacity  has  been  dis* 
played  by  the  disciples  of  virtue 
and  the  benefactors  of  mankind. 
In  this  distinction,  no  man  ever 
exceeded  or  ever  will  exceed  oni* 
great  philanthropist,  the  late  illus- 
trious Howard.  The  energy  of 
his  deternanalion  was  so  great, 
that  if,  instead  of  being  habitual',  it 
Could  have  appeared  in  an  inter- 
mitted form,  operating  only  for  a 
short  time,  on  particular  occasions, 
it  would  have  seemed,  a  vehement 
impetuosity  ;  but  by  being  con- 
tinuous, it  had  an  equability  of 
manner,  which  scarcely  appeared 
to  exceed  the  tone  of  a  calm  con- 
stancy. It  was  the  calmness  of  an 
intensity,  kept  uniform  by  the  na- 
ture of  the  human  mind  forbidding 
it  to  be  more,  and  the  character  of 
the  individual  forbidding  it  to  be 
less.  The  habitual  passion  of  his 
mind  was  a  measure  of  feeling,  al- 
most equal  to  the  temporary  ex- 
tremes and  paroxysms  of  common 
minds  :  as  a  great  river,  in  its  cus- 
tomary state,  is  equal  to  a  small  or 
moderate  one,  when  swollen  to  a 
torrent. 

The   moment  of  finishing  bis 
plans    in    deliberation,  and  com- 
mencing them  in  action,  was  the 
6ame.     I  wonder  what  must  have 
VoL  III.  No.  11.  4B 


been  the  amount' of  that  bribe,  in 
emolument  or  pleasure,  that  would 
have  detained  him  a  week  inactive*, 
after  their  final  adjustment.     The 
law  which  carries  water  down  a 
declivity  was    not  more    uncon- 
querable and  invariable,  than  the 
determination  of  his  feelings  to- 
ward the  main  object.     This  ob- 
ject he  pursued  with  a  devotion, 
which  seemed  to  annihilate  to  hifl 
perceptions  all  others  ;    it  was  a 
stem  pathos  of  soul,  on  which  the 
beauties  of  nature  and  of  art  had 
no    power.      He   had  no  leisure 
feeling,  which  he  could  spare,  to 
be  diverted  among  the  innumera- 
ble varieties  of  the  extensive  scene, 
which  he  traversed  ;    all.  his  sub- 
ordinate feelings  lost  their  separate 
existence  and  operation,  by  falling^ 
into  the  grand  one.     There  have 
not  been  wantitig  trivial  minds  to 
mark  this  as  a  fault  in  his  characr 
ter.     But  the  mere  man  of  taste 
ought  to  be  silent  respecting  such 
a  man  as   Howard  ;    he  is  above 
their  sphere  of  judgment.     The 
invisible  spirits,  who  fulfil  their 
commission  of  philanthropy  amon^ 
mortals,  do  not  care  about  pictures, 
statues,  and  sumptuous  buildings  ; 
...no  more  did  he*     Or  at  least,  re- 
garding every  moment  as  under 
the  claims  of  imperious  duty,  his 
curiosity  waited  in  vain  for  the 
hour  to  come,  when  his  conscience 
should  present  the  gratification  of 
it  as  the  most  sacred  duty  of  that 
hour.     If    he  was  still  at  every 
hour,  where  it  came,  fated  to  feel 
the  attractions  of  the  fine  arts  but 
the   second  claim,  they  might  be 
sure  of  their  revenge,  for  no  other 
man  will  ever  visit  Rome  under 
such  a  despotick  consciousness  of 
duty,  as  to  refuse  himself  time  for 
surveying  the  magnificence  of  its 
ruins.     Such  a  sin  against  taste  is 
very  far-beyond  the  reach  of  com- 
mon saintship  to  commit.    It  im?^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


su 


UBOBIOJI  or  CftAUlC* 


plied  >D  ioconoeirabfo  «ercritf  of 
convactkm,  that  he  had  Mr  Miisgr  fo 
do  ;  and  thct  he,  who  would  do 
tome  gmat  thing  in  this  short  li&t 
mast  apply  hinieif  to  the  work 
viih  such  a  cQMcentt«Uon  of  fab 
fsrcesr  as>  to  idic  tpectators,  who 
tive  onlf  to  anro«e  themselves, 
looks  like  iosantty. 

His  attention  was  so  stronglf 
and  teoaciBUBly  fixed  on  his  ol>- 
|ect,  that  even  at  the  greatest  dis^ 
tance«  like  the  Egyptian  pyramids 
to  travcftersf  k  stood  coofest  to  his 
•i^t  with  a  kmikious  distinctness, 
as  if  it  were  nigh,  aud  beguiled 
the  toilsome  length  of  labour  and 
enterprise,  by  which  he  was  to 
«eacli  it.  It  was  so  conspicuous 
before  him,  that  not  a  step  deviat- 
«d  from  the  direction,  anid  every 
movement  and  every  day  was  an 
•pproKimation.  If  it  were  possi* 
hie  to  deduct  from  his  thoughts 
and  actions  all  that  portion,  which 
had  not  a  methodical  and  stren*> 
nous  reference  to  an  end,  the  solid 
mass,  wtiich  would  remam,  would . 
spread  over  an  amazing  length  of 
tife,  if  attenuated  to  the  ordinary 
atyk  of  deliberation  and  achieve- 
ment. One  kqs  thinks  of  di»- 
playing  such  a  character,,  for  the 
purpose  of  example,  than  &r  that 
«f  mortifying  comparison. 


^****.  Lady  Macbeth  may  be 
ckcd  as  a  harmonious  chamctei, 
though  the  epithet  seems  strangely 
applied.  She  had  capacity,  am- 
bition, and  courage  ;  and  she  will- 
ed the  di^ath  of  the .  king.    But  he 


had,  besides  bumaaky,  gcncrsi' 
ity,  conscience,  and  some  messerc 
of  what  fomis  the  power  of  cod- 
scaeoce,  the  fiear  of  a  Superiour 
Beifig.  CoBsequestty,  whco  the 
dreadful  moment  approsched,hcfe)t 
an  insupportable  conflict  between 
these  opposite  principles,snd  wbeo 
It  was  arrived,  his  utmost  courage 
&iled.  The  worse  part  of  his  na- 
ture fell  prostrate  under  the  power 
of  the  better  ;  the  angel  of  good- 
ness arrested  the  demon  that 
grasped  the  dagger,  and  would 
have  taken  that  dagger  away,  if 
the  pure  demoniack  firmness  of  his 
wife,  who  had  none  of  these  coun- 
teractive principles,  had  not  than- 
ed  and  hardened  him  to  the 
deed. 

The  poet's  delineation  of  Rich- 
ard III.  (I  better  remember  the 
poet's  account  of  him  than  the 
historian's,)  gives  a  dreadful  speci- 
men of  this  indrvraibility,  if  I  maf 
so  name  it,  of  mental  impulse. 
After  his  determination  was  fixed, 
his  whole  mind,  with  the  compact- 
est  fidelity,  supported  him  in  pro- 
secuting it.  Securely  priiilcged 
from  all  interference  of  doobt  that 
could  linger,  or  humaniif  that 
couW  soften,  or  timidity  thatcouW 
Kihrmk,  he  advanced  with  a  giwj 
concentrated  constancy,  through 
acene  after  scene  of  atrocity,  $uu 
fulfilling  his  vow  to  «  cat  his^f 
through  with  a  bloody  axe.''  Hj 
did  not  waver  while  he  purs«^ 
his  object,  nor  relent  when  » 
seized  iL 


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smmBmstamimm 


PQETRY.  ... 

S^r  the  MontMy  Amhology, 

TO  VV  1  *     II     C^....— -^  jvif.,  Keii^ort 

BOSTON^  affiPT.  6th,  1806- 

^..«.. .....M....„^...!r*u  mitit,  et  acri 

Jiperitate  carcns,  positoque  ptr  anmia  Jat:up 

htter  ut  atqualti  unxis  nmnerarh  ttmiotj*  : 

pbstquiuinque  dooet,  et  ajnopsm,  qftaerU  amando*        XocJt^. 

HAIL,  absent  fiicnd  !    not  absent  from  my  soul. 
Though  mountains  rise,  ajid  floods  between  us  roll. 
Though  life  no  more  thy  little  bark  shoiUd  steer. 
Still  mem'ry's  pencil  yrould  depict  thee  here  ; 
Her  well  known  art,  her  dioFfing'  tasi  rene^. 
And  each  bold  feature  briglu^  into  view. 

The  flowers  of  Fnendship  parely  blossom  hexxi^ 
Exotick  plants  are  difficult  to  rear. 
Too  cold  the  soil,  they  pine  in  swi&dacs^  % 
And  if  too  warm,  in  languidmiont  awv^. 
'Tia  Merchant's  land !  Here-  Geoius  neT«r  spt^mf^ 
Nor  flourish'd  friendship,  n«r  tho  sons  of  song^ 
For  such  vUf  meeds,  why  turn  the  wealthy  sool  ^ 
When  golden  a^e*  grow  with  half  the  toil; 

Though  the  pale  ndser  gaze  upon  his  Store^ 
So  vastly  great  he  could  not  wish  (or  more  ; 
Though" mine  were  vXL  the  treasure  that  I  see  ; 
Ev'n  though  Pactohis  itbVd  for  onty  me  ;      " 
Forgfive,  ye  Gods,^  1  askrfor  greater  wealth. 
Grant  me  a  friend  with  competence  and  health* 
1'he  friend,  I  ask>  is  no  mechanicfo  toel, 
To  sneeze  lilc  me,  like  me  to  play  the  fool ; 
Not  a  mere  posy,  born  to  mve  away. 
To  blossom,  bear,  and  wither  in  a  di^ 
Nor  that  strange  beings  counterfeiting  man, 
Built,  for  some  whim,  on  Nature'^  narr'west  plaik ; 
Who  loves  you  dearly  as  a  brother  could. 
Yet  groans  in  spirit,  if  your  jokes  art  9ood' ; 
Admires  your  tribes,  yet  would  kindly  hint, 
"  Jf  he  were  you,,  ho  thinks  he  would  not  prinf.'* 
Pale  jmp  of  Qnvy  \    Ghild  of  self  distress^ 
Wbo  gets  his  death  fiom.  other's  happineap    .  ^ 
Ne'er  may  I  know  that  syco^hantick  tnbe^ 
Who  flatter,  perjure,  poison,  for  a'  bribe. 
Haipics,  who  friendship's  sacred  fane  d^e. 
Who  rob  by  wonds,  and  niin  with  a  ^ile. 
Busy,  like  bees,  round  wealthy  heirs  they  fly, 
Extract  tl^  sweets,  am^  lea\^  the-  ftow^  ttf  dW 
Such,  such  are  they  who  flutter  rotmd*  t*cr  gteSA, 
Who  bask  in  pompy  and  buz  about  in*  stalks ; 
X)ealers  in  air  ;    tlieie  empty  fbolc  rely 
.On  one  sad  choice,  to  flsiOer  (w  (»  die. 

Give  me  the  friend,  whom  T*vid  genius-  firee, 
Wliom  juflj;!:ment  tempers,  and  tho  Muse  inspire^ 
Though  Icani'd,  yet  tiiratur'd  never  let  him  be 
With  proud  contempt  tbc  tliose  lets'  le^vEo'd  tKim  4n^ 


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58S         •  *  6RI0IirAL  METRT. 

Thoogh  fortune  spread  f%9r  favours  at  hit  door. 

Let  not  ambition  move  one  sigh  for  more. 

Frank  to  his  friend  ;    (nor  would  he  fail  to  pleaM, 

Though  free  from  ribl>ons,  careless  of  Degrees) 

Brave  in  his  cause,  -when  wrong'd  by  men  of  sense. 

But  not  tenacious  of  a  fool's  oflfcncc  ; 

Let  him  regard  not  censors  in  the  streets. 

Nor  heed  each  manger-puppy  that  he  meets. 

Candid  his  censure  all  my  faults  to  show. 

Nor  yet  unwilling  all  his  own  to  know  ; 

Let  not  his  heart,  in  pitying  weakness,  spare. 

But  still  let  feeling  hold  a  mansion  there 

Say,  lives  the  friend  in  whom  these  virtues  shine  ? 

Thanks  to  the  Gods,  for  such  a  friend  is  mine  !  "  3" 


For  the  Monthly  Anthology. 

TO    POVERTY. 

O  Poverty  !    hard-featured  dame. 
Whence  grow  the  terrours  of  thy  name  ? 
*Tu  said,  that  fi^m  thy  serious  ej'e 
The  laughing  Train  of  Pleasures  fly  ; 
That,  deep  within  thy  mansion  rude, 
Lurks  the  black  fiend.  Ingratitude  ; 
That  Toil,  and  Want,  and  Shame,  are  known 
To  make  thy  heartless  hours  their  own. 
Till  Guilt,— his  frenzied  eye  on  fire, — 
Bids  thy  last  famished  I^ope  expire  : 
Thus  speaks  the  world, — ^to  Mammon  true,— 
While  wrongs  thy  pleading  worth  pursue. 

To  me, — and  I  haw  teen   thee  near,-^ 
Though  harsh  thy  withering  look  appear. 
Though  stem  the  Teachers  of  the  Poor, 
And  hard  the  lesson  to  endure } 
Yet  many  a  virtue,  bom  of  thee. 
Lives  sunder'd  from  Prosperity. 
Jleligion,  which  on  Heaven  relies. 
The  moral  of  thy  mind  supplies  ; 
Pity,  with  plaintive  accent  kind. 
And  Patience,  Xo  her  fate  resign'd. 
Content  thy  lowly  cot  to  share 
With  Temperance,  dwell  as  inmates  there  » 
Love  join'd  by  TVuth  ;  no  rival's  eye 
Wakes  to  the  vrish  of  Poverty  : 
Yet  all  the  bless'd  Affections  twine 
Round  many  a  rustick  haunt  of  thine. 
Close  circling,  with  the  nuptial  tie, 
Joys,  which  a  monarch  could  not  buy. 

Though  boonless,  and  to  praise  unknown. 
Oh  is  the  lustred  hfe  thy  own  ; 
To  thee  the  Priests  olf  God  belong ; 
Thine  is  the  Poet's  deathless  song  ; 
Thee  toiling  Science  lives  to  claim, 
Thou  lead*8t  his  thorny  steps  to  Fame  \ 
Creative  Genifs  feels  toy  power 
Coeval  with  his  natal  hour. 
On  him  the  rays  of  glory  shine 
Too  late...his  parting  breath  is  thine. 


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SELECTED  TOETXT.  ^f 

Let  me  thy  simple  glances  meet 
Near  flie  green  hamlet's  calm  retreat. 
Not  where  the  city,  throng*d  with  sin. 
Bids  all  the  monster  Crimes  begin, 
Thence  will  thy  timid  Virtues  fly. 
Lured  by  Seduction's  serpent  eye  ; 
Thy  fate  each  murdered  Hope  to  see. 
While  every  suffering  lives  to  thee. 

Not  that  along  the  wintry  shore 
The  fisher  plies  the  wearied  oar  ; 
Not  that  amid  the  sultry  plain 
The  peasant  piles  the  laboured  grain. 
Wilt  thou,  with  frowning  brow  appear. 
To  wring  tlie  grief-extorted  tear  : 
But,  when  to  wrongs  thy  sufferings  lead. 
While  Shame  and  false  Reproach  succeed  ; 
When  Genius,  dooro'd  with  thee  to  mourn. 
Sees  his  unshelter'd  laurels  torn. 
While  ignorant  Ma/ice  rushes  by, 
Quick  ^ancing  with  insidious  eye  ; 
When  all  thy  cuUur*d  virtues  move 
Nor  sense  .to  feel,  nor  heart  to  love. 
While  Treachery,  under  Friendship's  guise, 
Bids  the  pernicious  falsehood  rise, 
Still  aiming,  with  envenom'd  dart. 
To  reach  the  life-pulse  of  thy  heart ; 
Then,  Poverty,  hard-featured  dame, 
I  feel  the  miseries  of  thy  claim. 
Would  from  thy  close  embraces  fly. 
Or  'raid  tlieir  palsied  pressure  die.  Cambria. 


SELECTIONS. 
From  "  Poem*  by  Jamet  Montgomery:' 

THE  OCEAN.  I  gazc, — and  am  changed  at  the  sight  i 

«r  u.^  ^  cr      L         1    .      »  «                 ^°^  "^^"^  ^y^  '^^  illumined,  my  Geniuf 

Written  at  Scarborough,  tn  the  Summer                takes  flight, 

V  1806.  ]My  go„l^  lij^g  ^jje  g^j,^  ^j^  ^  glance 

A. ,  i,«;i  *^  ♦K^  -..•      •  -.u  1          ,     Embraces  the  boundless  expanse, 

SJe^h^esT     '  ^""^  "^°^^'  ^"  ^y  ^^^^"'  whirever 

AVhile  .oft  o'er  thy  bo.om  the  deud-     where  the  billows  ^  n.bics  on  fire, 

,  AnA  thlc^T*  -"i'  1        r     ,      ...  V  And  the  breezes  that  rock  tlie  light  cr«. 
rAndthes.lvcr-wingr'dsea.fowlonh.gh.  die  of  morn  ^ 

'  r.^  Hi^ir^  bespMirfe  the  sky,  ^re  sweet  as  the  Phanix's  p,^..  : 

ride        ^^     "^  triumphantly  Oregionsof  beauty,  of  love,  i,d  desire  1 

T  :v- f^»*  1- *!.  .V  -  O  gardens  of  Eden  !  in  vain 

Like  f(mn  onthe  sprges,  the  swans  of  pj^ecd  far  on  the  faUiomless  main, 

Fmm  fiio  ♦.iT«,/u  ««j  —  u      r  ^u      ..       Where  Nature  with  Innocence  dwelt 
From  the^tiimiidt  and  smoke  of  the  city  j^  her  voulh, 

rrom  ihe  crest  of  the  mountain  I  gaze 

upon  thee  ;  But  now  the  fcir  rivers  of  Paradise  wind 

Thpowjrh  coimtrics  ai:d  Idngdoms  o'cr- 
»  erarboro*  Cutle,  Ud'own  ; 

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>^9«VB^  r^TEY^ 


Where  the  Giant  of  tynany  ^mukm 

mankindy 
Where  be  reigBS,--and  witt  iO«Areifii. 

alone, 
T6t  wide  and  more  vide  o'er  ike  mm^ 

beaming  zone. 
He  stretcbea  his  bundred-lold  atOM^ 
Despoiling,  destroying  its  channfi  3 
Beneath  his  broad  fooutep  the  Ganges 

is  dry. 
And  the  mountains  recoil  from  the  flasil 

of  his  eye. 

Thus  the  pe9l^ent  Upas,  the  hyte  of 

trees. 
Its  bou^s  o*er  the  wiideneae  afre^dgf 
And  with  livid  contagion  poUutuig  the 

breeze 
Its  mildewing  influence  sheds  ; 
The  birds  on  the  wing,  and  the  iowtm 

in  their  beds. 
Are  slain  by  its  venomous  breaitli« 
That  darkens  the  noon-da^^  wilh  dsatbv 
And  pale  ghosts  of  Trttv^ora  wander 

around. 
While  their  mouldering  skeleton*  'wbi>> 

ten  the  ground. 

Ah  !  why  hath  Jehovah,  m  ftrming 

the  world. 
With  the  waters  divided  the  tend. 
His  ramparts  of  rocks  round  the  con- 
tinent hurl'd. 
And  cradled  the  deep  in  his  hand  ? 
If  man  may  transgress  his  eternal  corn* 

mand. 
And  leap  o'er  the  bounds  of  his  birth 
To  ravage  the  uttenuost  earth. 
And  violate  Mitions  and  reafans^  that 

should  be 
Distinct  as  the  biUows|,yetone  ast!>e  sea ! 

There  at»v  f^my  Q«bak  !  a-hcodier- 

lesi  cUm, 
Who  traverse  thy^banirfiing  wmtB, 
The  poor  disinhmted  (mtcaafis  ofmtm^ 
Whom  Avarice  coin*  into-  ahtras- ; 
From  th«  honm^  of  ^hesf  kindred,  theb 

forefathers*  gcavies, 
Love,  fiaendahB^,  and  conjugal  hiisr. 
They  are  draggf4  on  tbo>hoM^  ahys» ; 
The  shark  hears  their  ahiaeka,  and  as- 

condinff  tovd«^« 
DeflMwl*)  of  th»  spoiler  hit  share  of  tfie 

prey. 

Then  joy  to  the  tempest  that  whelms 

them  beneath, 
And  inakes.  their  destruction  its' sport ! 
liut  woe  to  the  winds  that  propitiously 

breathe, 
JlwLvadr  them^  in^safe^  t9  ^Qvt ! 
Wher*  tbo  vuHnros  aiid  vampinafr  ^ 

Mammon  resort ; 


Wliiar«  l^iireiM  #araltk\gly  drainr 
Her  cordiala  from  Ainaa's  veins  : 
Whete  the  image  of  Geo  is  accountel 

as  base» 
And  the  imacpe  of  CMtar  set  up  vn  iti 

place  r 

iHe  hour  is  ayp/oaching,— a  ternblo 

hour  f 
An^  Vengoaaee  is  bmding  her  bow ; 
Ali^ady  theckuids  of  the  hurricane  lour, 
And  the  rock- rending  whirl  wiodsbtev; 
Back  rolls  the  huge  Ooean,— Hell  open 

below  ; 
The  floodft  return  headloDg, — tbef 

»weep 
The  sUve-cukv'd  lands  to  the  deep ; 
In  »  mqmont  entQmb'd  in  the  horcibiff 

void. 
By  their  Mak^  Himself  m  his  aogcf 

deetroy'd;^ 

Shall  this  t)e  the  &ta  of  the  cane^* 

ed  isles. 
More  Io\'ely  than  clouds  in  the  west, 
When  the  sun  o?er  tiie  ocean  descends 

ing  in  smiles 
Sinks  sofuy  and  sweetly  to  rest  I 
•-NO  !— Father  of  lllercy  !  befriend 

tlie  opprest ; 
At  the  voice  of  tty  goapel  of  peace 
May  the  sorrows  o<  Africa  cease  ; 
And  Ae  siave  and  his  master  dcTOUllf 

unite  J    11  • 

To  walk  in  thr  freedom,  ai|d  dwell  a 
thy  Ughl  !• 

As  homeward  my  weaiy^.wng'd  Ffflcf 
extends  ,^^ 

Her  star-lighted  oouuse  thry  tfef  ifc»f* 
High  over  the  mighty  Atlantic  iscends, 
And  turns  upon  Europe  her  cyei ; 
Ahme  !     what  new  piOfptfct^  m* 

horrours  arise  t 
I  see  the  war-icnipflsted  iaed 
Adl  fiH»iiMf,  and-  panting  w»th  b»o«. 
The  panick-8truekOecauiBag«9«»^ 
ftehounds  from  the  baHie,  and  fl»»  " 
his  ahnres^  .  *  ».  •  trl. 

For  Bjutannxa  is  wieWii*  liit  tn 

Consuming  her  loea  in  her  if«v  ^^ 
A«dr  hurling  her  thunder  with»M»* 

l^om-l^  w<ve^in«  •^^^d^ 
—She  triumphs  ;-the  w»ads  f»^ 

watev^eaeillire 
To  spread  her  invincible  nartj  ? 
The  universe  riilgf  with  her  w"** ' 

•  AllodinK  to  the  gk)rtou#  wj^^j!  %yip^ 


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tKLKCTSti  roXTXY. 


5fT 


I  iBbI.  the  cnei  or  the  nUlita^est  mix 

with  her  praise. 
And  the  tears  of  the  widow  arc  ihed 

on  her  bays  ! 

O  Britain  !  dear  Britain  I  the  land  of 

'    my  birth  ! 
O  Isle,  most  enchanting  fair  ! 
Thou  Pcai-l  of  the  Ocean  !   Thou  G«m 

oftlieEailh  ! 
O  my  M  »ther  !  my  Mother  !  beware  j 
For  wealth  is  a  phantom,  and  empire  a 

snare  : 
O  let  not  tliy  birth-rig^ht  be  sold 
For  reprobate  ^ory  and  gold  : 
Thy  foreign  domiiHons  like  wild  gralb- 

inj^  shoot, 
*rhey  weig-li  down  thy  trunk, — they  wiU 

tear  up  tliy  root : — 

The  root  of  tliine  OAK,  O  my  country ! 
that  stands 

Rock-planted,  and  flourishing  free  ; 

Its  branches  are  stretch'd  over  far-dis- 
tant lands. 

And  its  shadow  eclipses  the  SQa  : 

The  blood  of  our  anoestors  nourit4i*(« 
tlie  tree  ; 

Trom  tlieir  tombs,  from  their  ashes  it 
sprung ; 

Its  boughs  with  their  trophies  are  hung ; 

Their  spirit  dwells  io  it :— and  hark  ! 
for  it  spoke  ; 

The  voice  of  our  Fathers  ascciids  from 
tlieir  oak. 

••  Ye  Britons  !    who  dwell   where  w« 

conquer'd  of  old, 
Who  inherit  our  battle-field  graves  ; 
Though  poor  were  your  Fathers, — gi^ 

gantick  and  bold, 
We  were  not,  we  would  not  be  slaves  j 
But  ^m   as  our  rocks,  aiul  a»  free  as 

our  waves. 
The  spears  of  the  Romans  we  broke. 
We  never  stoop'd  under  their  yoke  ; 
In  tiie  shipwreck  of  nations  we  stood 

up  sJone, 
—The  worid  was  great  Cssar'a-^bui 

Britain  our  own. 

•«  For  ages  and  ages,  with  Varbarous  ibo8> 
The  Saxon,  Norwegian,  and  Gaul, 
We   wrestled,  were  l<^Pd,  were  cast 

down,  but  we  rose 
Wkh  ne  w  vigottr,ne w  life  fVom  each  fi*H; 
^j  all  ^uf  vttre  conquered  : — WE  CON- 
QUER'D THEM  ALL  ! 
—The  cruel,  the  cannibid  mind, 
Wc  soflen'd,  subdued,  and  refined ; 
Bears,  wolves,  and  sea-monsters,  they 

rush'd  from  tlicir  den  ; 
We  tAughl  them,  we  tanad  thatn^  w« 
turo*d  them  to  men. 


^  £tOf9  led  tn€  wiki  honiftt  is  hkt  Avw^ 

er- woven  bands,  ^ 

Tke  temleroBt,  tihe  strongest  of  chains ! 

Love  married  ontf  hearts,  he  united  our 
hands. 

And  mingted  the  blood  in  our  veins  ; 

One  race  we  became  : — on  the  moun- 
tains and  plains 

Where  the  wounds  of  our  country  were 
closed. 

The  Ark  of  Reli|^oii  reposed. 

The  unquenchable  Altar  of  I«iberty 
blazed. 

And  the  Temple  of  Justice  in  Mercy 
was  raised. 

"  Ark,  Altar,  and  Temple  we  left  with 

our  breath, 
To  our  children,  a  sacred  bequest ! 
O  guard  them,  O  keep  them,  in  Ufe  and 

in  death  : 
So  the  shades  of  yoitf  fathers  shall  rest. 
And  your  spirits  with  ours  be  in  para- 
disc  blest  : 
— Let  Ambition,  the  sin  of  the  Brare, 
And  Avarice,  the  soul  of  a  Slave, 
No  longer  seduce  your  alfections  to  rosnm 
From  Liberty,  Justice,  Religicfi,  AT 
HOHE  r* 


TK£  rowLEa. 

A  Song  ;  altered  from  a  German  air,  in 
the  opera  o/**  Die  ZauberloteJ^ 

A  CARELESS,  whistling  Lad  am  I, 
On  sky -lark  wings  my  moments  fly  ; 
There's  not  a  Fowler  more  renown'd 
In  all  the  world — for  ten  miles  round  ! 
Ah  !    who  like  me  can  spread  the  net  f 
Or  tune  the  merry  flageolet : 
Then,  why,  O  !  why  should  I  re]Mne» 
Since  all  Uie  roving  birds  are  mine  I 

The  thrush  and  linnet  in  the  vale. 
The  sweet  sequester'd  nightingale. 
The  bullfinch,  wren,  and  woodlark,  all 
Obey  my  summons  when  I  call  : 
O  !  could  I  form  some  cunning  snare 
To  catch  tlie  coy,  coquetting  fair. 
Id  C cud's  filmy  web  so  fine. 
Tike  pretty  girle  should  all  be  mine  ! 

When  all  were  mine, — among  th« 
rest, 
rd  choose  the  Lass  I  liked  the  beat, 
And  should  my  charming  mate  be  kind* 
And  smile  and  kiss  me  to^my  mind. 
With  her  I'd  tie  tlie  nuptial  knot. 
Make  Hvm«n's  cage  of  my  poor  cot. 
And  love  awiiy  this  fleeting  hfe,'       '"^ 
Like  Robin  Redbreast  and  hit  wift.t 


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193 


THE  BOSTON  REVIEW. 

NOVEMBER,    1606. 


Libnim  tuum  le^i  Sc  quam  dUigentissime  potui  annotavi,  qui  commutanda,  q« 
cximenda,  arbitrarer.  Naiii  tf?o  dicere  rero  assiievi.  ^(H]Uf^  ulli  pati«ntiQft 
reprehciiduniar,  quain  qui  raaxiuie  laudari  meientur. Pliny. 


ARTICLE  60. 

jf  new  iranf>laU07i  unth  notesy  of 
(he  third  Satire  of  Juvenal,  To 
ivhlch  are  added,  miscellaneous 
Jioems,  original  and  translated.— >- 
New-York,  printed  by  S.  Gould 
for  Elzra  Surgeant.  l2mo,  Jiju 
200.     1806. 

This  volume  is  introduced  by 
a  letter  fn>ni  a  friend,  who  con- 
demns the  whole  mass  of  Ameri- 
can poetry  in  a  manner,  which 
gives  us  reason  to  expect,  that  the 
translator  is  to  appear  elevated  far 
above  the  common  herd,  and  to 
stand  forth  as  the  deliverer  of  the 
American  Muse  from  that  state  of 
durance  and  abjection,  in  which 
ghe  has  so  long  remained.  "  The 
Co/ujuent  of  Canaan,  Greeiificld- 
Hill,  McFingal,  The  Vision  of  Co- 
lumbusy  and  The  Progress  of  Ge- 
nius" are  among  the  works  which 
inpur  his  censure.  "  Tiiese  and 
others  which  might  be  cited,  he 
femarks,  lived  very  harmlessly, 
and  sulTcred  little  injiu-y  ;  they 
offended  no  one,  and  no  per- 
son felt  disposed  to  offer  violence 
to  them  ;  and  as  they  lived  peace- 
ably, so  they  died  quietly.  Let  us 
not  therefore  presume  to  trouble 
their  repose."  '*  Th€  Power  of 
Solitudt"  has  not  escaped  our 
epistoltry  crilirk.  But,  however 
faulty  the  passage  he  has  selected 
for  his  remarks,  the   reader   will 


not  think  his  apprehension,  lest  be 
should  appear  somewhat  **  hyper- 
criliciil,"  altogether  groundless. 

We  could  say  something  ia 
praise  of  AIcFingal  and  the  F£sf<m 
of  Columbus,  were  this  the  place 
to  appear  as  their  advocates.  Wc 
could  say  much  of  the  fiecuiiar  finr- 
priety  of  denouncing  such  per- 
formances in  a  preliminary  epbtle 
to  one  of  the  humbler  satires  of 
Juvenal,  and  some  smaller  poems, 
not  more  in  bulk,  than  a  few  col- 
umns of  an  ordinary  newspaper 
would  afford.  We  could  say  still 
more  of  the  modesty  of  the  authtif 
in  admitting  this  rude  and  indis- 
criminate attack  upon  his  prede- 
cessors and  superiours.  But  this 
modern  Achilles  is  not  I'cndercd 
altogether  invulnerable  by  the  in- 
ters of  adulation,  in  which,  through 
patemal  (we  presume)  rather  than 
parental  tenderness,  he  has  been 
faithfully  immersed.  Nor  has  this 
process  given  him  that  confideDce 
in  his  own  prowcr.s  which  it  seems 
designed  to  have  afforded.  He  has 
generally  yielded  the  precedency 
to  Mr.Gifrord,  and  he  has  not  becD 
scrupulous  ia  following  his  inter- 
pretations, and  frequently  borrow- 
ing his  rhymes,  and  copying  his 
verses  with  little  variation  of  laiv 
guage.  From  a  very  cursory 
comparison  of  the  two  translations 
we  have  selected  a  few,  out  of  nu- 
merous examples,  to  evince  the 
correctness  of  our  assertions. 


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TIB  «■!»»  ULTtM>  W  i«Y«DAL. 


sat 


iiig  raise.  Anonymous.  T.  U6. 

At  deeds  of  shame  their  hands  admir- 
inip  raise.  QiffqrP-  IQ9> 

. Uxulouhtin^  Uvnws  av^y. 

For  otte  cJdbtace,  a^tribune's  ajaoyplfiipay. 
Jnon.  190. 

.These,  forsootfai  can  fling  away 

On  Catienc  a  tribune's  ample  psy. 

Gir.  206. 

C^ty  quit  those  b^iokei^  angry  Ltctiu* 

cries. 
Those  benches  are  the  knights',  nay, 

quick  arise.  Jnon.  219. 

Up>  up  !  those  cusliion'd  benches.  Lec- 
tins cries, 

Ai«  not  lor  sueh  as  you  }  for  shame  ! 
arise.  GiF.  234. 

Thaehaaces^f  the  townUien  att  hfiwnJi, 

When  all  at.  fir«s  with  double  hatred 
rail. 

5liH  flames  the  pile,  when  lo  1  the  flat- 
terers haste. 

Ami.  pour  their  riehos  to  supply  th* 
waste.  Anm.  SIX 

AU  join  to  wail  the  ci^s  hapless  fate. 
And  rail  at  Are  with  more  than  com- 

W>nhata 
Lo  !    while  it  bums  the  obse^piious 

courtiers  haste 
With  rich  materiab  to  repair  the  waste. 
Qtw.  324. 

To  rail  at  lires  must  be  some- 
what awkward  and  uncomfortable ; 
and  the  deckuaer,  who  should  bQ 
overheard  refiroaching  noith  m»0' 
Umee  the  Mpiring;  fiames,  instead 
c^  using  his  exertions  to  extingiush 
them,  would  do  it  at  tbe  hazsuxl  of 
beiog  licficulous. 

A  swe«t  rttreatatsmdiercostthan  here 
Thoit  bbr'st  a  dui^iecnfor  asiBgle  ytmr, 
«  Jft9n.  329. 

Sane  ele^^  retreat  for  what  will  here 
Sc«roe  huK  a  f^^oomj  dungeon  iora 
y««r.  Giw.  340. 

Much  could  I  add,  more  resaoas  could 

Xcite 
To  justify  my  hate  and  urge  my  flight. 

y<^  HI.  No.  11.        4C 


And  make  jfoti  own  the  ju^ce  of  my 
flight.  Oit,  47a 

FjvewsAI,  n^fiwaiid,  fai«eweil  >  yet,  ^m 

wepar^ 
I  chMTg^  you  b^MT  me  mindfvd  on  yoiir 

heai't  ^dsum.  46^ 

FarqweU^  ipy  firieAdi   with  thisem^ 

brace  we  part  & 
Cherish  my  memory  ever  in  your  heart. 
GiF.  484. 

Ko  one  will  coiHciid  that  tbeao 
a»d  i>umeroiti9  oUier  reseinUancet 
o|  the  same  kind  couM  bo  nore 
accidetiud  coincideiices.  Tbo 
same  sentiment,  circimscfibfd 
withiA  tke  same  licaks,  ia  sisiilar 
language^  and  the  same  rhyming 
wovds,  and  admission  even  of  tbt> 
s«ane  peculiarUies  of  exi>ress]oiH 
are  BU&cient  pFoofs  of  our  author's 
freedom  wkb  Mr-  Giffoni.  Thewi 
are  otber  oMMre  tri^g  marks  of 
i«vitatiotH  on  wbkb  we  ahull  iK>t 
(iwett  ;  such  as  similar  exf^tiveak 
and  exclamatory  phrases  in  paraU 
lei  passages  (  ^S)  f  e  God«  I  for 
Mr.  G.'s  heavens  i  both  equaU|r 
unsiuthorisod  by  Juveoal ;  and  a 
reaenablanco  in  a  constructiaii  of 
the  verses  dP  the  two  authors  in 
the  tranalation  of  the  same  pas- 
sages. 

The  author  of  the  Iranslatm 
before  us  has  Mcribed  no  partku^ 
lar  charaaer  to  his  work  ;  and  io'* 
deed  it  is  difficult  to  ^oeruun  it 
very  exactly.  He  is  seldom  aeni^. 
paloustj  fidthful  to  Juv):i^9  9ad 
generally  loses  those  finer  parts^ 
which  make  the  very  spice  of  sat* 
ire.  He  woukl  seem  quile  iioae«> 
piring  in  bis  views ;  for  he  firty 
9umes  not  to  enter  the  lUt9  with  Afr^ 
Oiffbrd.  We  cannot  suspect  him 
of  such  an  intention.  He  is  qo|^ 
suQkiently  independent  for  a  rival. 
He  has  a  guide  of  whom  he  rarelv 
loses  sight ;  for  he  generally  foi- 
lov!«  where  Qifbrd  l^xMto.     Hit 


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B94 


£  NtW  TRAKTSLATIOK  Ot 


apology  for  publisliingis  one,which 
Yft  have  heard  before,  bat  wish 
never  to  hear  again.  It  is,  that 
the  production  is  American: '  By 
admitting  such  anapology  a^  thisf 
we  should  concede  that  every  Hte^ 
rJiry  mtn  among  us  writes  for  a 
very  inferiour  oi'der  of  readers. 
We  are  of  the  number,  who  value 
a  book  according  to  its  abstract 
iherit  ;  and  have  too  much  pride 
to  listen  with  patience  to  writers, 
who,  in  the  style  of  our  author, 
undervalue  their  countrymen  so 
much,  a9  to  tell  them>  in  effect, 
the  specimens  we  give  you  from 
our  literary  mines  will  doubtless 
be  esteemed  prfeci&us  by  youy  but 
in  England  they  would  be  ranketl 
among  the  baser  metal*.  The  re- 
publick  of  letters,  as  it  has  been 
termed,  especially  as  including  na- 
tions, speaking  a  common  lan- 
guage, is  one  and  indivimble.  There 
is  an  universality  in  its  laws,  which 
no  minor  portion  of  k  has  a  right 
to  violate  ;  and  it  is  absurd  to  affix 
different  standards  of  good  wlil- 
«ig,  where  all  have  access  to  the 
ttime  principles,  and  all  are  ulti- 
imtely  Ikble  to  be  arraigned  be- 
fore the  same  tribunals. 
-  Without  presuming  lo  guess 
what  freedom  the  unknown  trans-' 
Ittor  proposed  to  himself  in  his 
undertaking,  we  shall  first  select 
one  or  two  passages  in  which  we 
find  more  of  our  author,  than  of 
Juvenal. 

According  to  Juvenal,  Umbri- 
tius,  after  satirizing  several  vices 
prevalent  at  Rome,  which  he  de- 
tested, and  with  Which  he  was  not 
himself  conversant,  adds, 

^U  nunc  diligitur,  nut  conscitu,  et  cut 

Jervcn* 
JEstuat  ocaiitis  animut^  temperque  ta- 

cendis  ?  Ver.  49. 

But  whitst  the  g^at  my  zeal  and  ser- 
•      vice  Rcom, 

What  viirtueg,  &ay,  tk«  chosen -friend 
adorn. 


To  whom  they  dare  the  Kcret  wA  re< 

veal  ? 
The  holv  league  by  mutiul  guilt  they 

seal  ; 
He  ^ares  the  heart  in  these  poQutd 

times. 
Whose  conscience  pants  Ttith  serm, 

nameless  crimes.  Ver.  75. 

The  simple  inquiry  is,  idbii 
now  in  Jkvoury  ejreejit  the  wet 
v)ho»e  breast  is  tormented  vAik  tc 
cret  crimesy  which  he  never  dsrtt 
disclose  ?  But  our  translator  loaifJ 
the  virtuous  and  voluntary  ok 
complain  of  the  contempt,  wbidi 
his  zeal  and  services  had  met  viii 
and  talks  of  the  holy  leape  (^ 
scoundrels)  sealed  by  mutual  g^ 
&c.  ;  all  which  freedom  may  22- 
swer  very  well  for  paraphrase^ 
but  is  no  property  of  a  translatb 

Another  selection  which  ^e 
make  is  the  conclusion  of  a  pis- 
sage,  which  describes  the  veml 
state  of  Rome,  and  the  univcral 
power  of  bribery  in  the  purctest 
of  favour  and  security. 

IHena  dofnus  Uhis  venalBut ;  acafe,  f- 

istud 
Fermentum  tibi  habe  :  pntttan  triki 

cHenUs 
CoFiniur,  -et  cult  is  augcre  peculia  temi 
Vcr.l^' 

The  clients  run  and  afi  tlicir  p««ff" 

bear. 
Tis  thus  the  faV  *ritc  swells  his  gn^- 

inr  store, 
ReceiTU^  still  and  asking  stiU  ftr»««  • 
For  since  these  slAves  akme  ikpiin* 

sway, 
This  is  a  tax  we  an  arc  forced  to  pir- 
Vcr.2J* 

Without  remarking  upon  ti* 
translator's  neglcaof  the  fint|*J 
of  the  original  here  quoted,  w 
which  kind  of  neglect  wcsh*U«^ 
sDme  other  examples  prcseBBff 
we  cannot  but  notice  thcwow^' 
ful  fermentation  of  the  latter  Ift 
of  this  passage  in  its  progf^ssioo 
into  EngUsh.  Far  be  it  fro?  ^ 
to  question  our  author's  skill  in  1<» 
laboured  commentary  and  «^  ^' 


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THE  ICHIRD  .SATIRE  OiT   JUVIWAL. 


su 


jfkrence  ;  but  it  is  Juvenal  whom 
M^e  wish  to  hear,  and  not  the  lo- 
<)uacious  paraphrast,  nor  the  acute 
logician. 

There  are  here,  and  there  pas- 
sages, which  the  translator  has  seen 
-fit  to  pass  over  unnoticed  ;  some- 
•times  probably  to  aid  his  metrical 
arrangement,  and  sometimes,  per* 
haps,  from  a  little  embarrassment 
'in  obtaining  the  sense. 

Thus  in  the  14th  line,  quorum 
'Cofibinus  foenumque  sufitUtjryWhich 
Mr.  Gifibrd  translates, 

"Whose  wealth  is  but  a  basket  stuffed 
with  hay," 

is  entirely  omitted.     Again, 

ri§mus  interea  secura  patellas 

.yam  lavaty  et  bucctt  fuculttm  excitat,  et 

ionat  unc^it 
Strigilibut^'  et  plena  coxnponit  iinteji  gutto. 
H(tc  inter  puero*  varie  proper antur. 

Ver.  261. 

His  fellow  slaves,  meanwhile  exempt 

from  care, 
With  fruitless  haste  their  several  tasks 

prepare.  Ver.  384. 

The  9laves,with  whomAhesc  arc 
.contrasted,  were  exposed  lo  aU  ^he 
.dangers  of  4he  streets  of  Rome, 
J«rliile  tbcy  were  safe  under  their 
jnaster's  roof,  ministering  to  his 
wants  and  his  pleas^ires.  But  what 
their  services  were,  the  reader,  (if 
j)erchance  he  should  not  under- 
stand the  original)  will  derive  no 
information.  All  the  particularity 
-of  Juvenal  has  fallen  ih rough  Jthq 
translator's  sieve,  and  only  the 
coarser  anl  less  valuable  matter  is 
left  behind.  That  the  slaves  per- 
formed some  tasks  (not  perhaps 
yi\K\\friutle98  haste)  we  are  slightly 
informed  ;  but  nothing  transpires 
relating  to  the  nature  of  their  ser- 
vices. We  hear  nothing  of  the 
mmahlng  of  dishes^  or,  as  Mr.  Gif- 
ford  is  pleased  to  refine  it,  of  the 
pcowring  of  ftlate  ;  nothhig  of  their 
cuiinanj  vigilance^  nor  of  their  coia- 


plicatcd,prcparations  for  the /urury 
of  the  bath. 

It  is  a  great. excellence  of  a  trans- 
4ation  to  give  to  the  mere  reader 
of  his  vernacular  tongue,  as  much 
of  the  author's  account  of  maoBers, 
and  customs,  and  employments, 
ice,  as  the  genius  of  Xh^  onodem 
language  will  admit ;  iaKl,^if  pos- 
sible, to  preserve  even  the  iJliision# 
in  some  degree  of  purity.  We 
often  mark  ja  great  ftiilure  in  this 
respect  in  the  translation  before  us. 
Indeed  the  examples  of  this  defect 
<are  .so  numerous,  that  to  select 
•them  would  extend  our  review 
much  beyond  the  limits  to  which 
it  is  entitled.  We  shall  therefore 
cite  but  one  instanceonore. 

Juvenal  tells  us^that  justice  wa» 
so  4nuch  cormpt«d  at  Rome,  thi^ 
the  first  question,  ;ifl  establishing 
the  credibility  of  jx  witness,  con- 
xerned  his  wealth, 

^ot  patch  servos,  quot  potsidit  agT:t 

yugerS,  qiiam  muita  magnaqve  paroptidt 
coenat.  Ver.  141. 

Say  what  his  slaves,  his  equipage,  hit 
land  ?  Ver.  201,' 

This  timidity  of  our  author^leat 
Jie  iihpuld  be  too  loqua(;ious,4s  not 
n^tut-al  lo  him .  We  do  ^ot  relish 
this  affectpdl^r  elliptical  line  ;  and 
eqid/iagr^  the  vague  and  feeble  in- 
terpretation of  the  qttam  muUa  mag' 
naque  fiarofiaide  coenat  of  Juvenali 
is  far  from  satisfactory. 

We  have  spent  the  more  time 
on  thb  performance,  because  it 
holds  the  most  .conspicuous  place 
in  the  4xx>k,  and  is  a  species  of 
composition,  in  which  our  country 
has  afforded  but  few  adventurers. 
It  is  no^  probable,  that  the  author 
will  long  be  willing  to  risque  his 
iame  npo^  this  *<  exercise  in  the 
art  of  versification."  It  contaii^ 
no  passage  eminently  vigorous,  and 
seldom  approaches  the  manner  of 
Juv^al*    It  '}^  h\\t  just  to  a4d,tjh;4 


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iM 


k  mtw  nimtLktimMf  Mr. 


tii€i«  aiftt  ttif  tUags  in  the  wort 
very  censurable ;  and  indeed  lioir 
kmM  tkens  be,  wfaeti  the  aullior 
^ranted  that  poetick  fire*  which  a- 
lone  can  infuse  even  into  a  ttmm" 
ladoift  of  a  Roman  satire,  tke  true 
0pitit  of  that  specie*  «f  writing  ? 
•We  aay,  k  contains  litde  that  is 
very  cenauraMe.  There  are  aome 
paasagea  where  we  find  words  cosn- 
bined  in  a  manner  neither  eiegaot 
nor  correct ;  such  as,  ^  &r  naore 
present,'*  (<  chief  (most)  detest,** 
♦*  breathe  a  wretched  voW**  (for 
|>rayer;)  The  word  rhttoris  re- 
tained in  the  translation  for  rhetor<- 
icbn,  which  is  also  one  word  in  a 
doggerel  catalogue  of  pf ofeasions, 
(lines  113-U)  that  will  iitfallibly 
make  the  reader  laugh.  The  ex- 
amples of  bad  rhymes  and  &lie 
.measure  are  very  few ;  fewer  than 
-what  may  be  found  in  t^e  same 
satire  in  Mr.  Gilford's  ti*analatk)fO. 
While  the  author  of  London,  an 
imitation  of  the  third  satire  of  Ju- 
irenal,  was  unknown  to  Pope,  we 
arc  told,  he  exclaimed  in  the  words 
of  Terence,  "  ubij  ubi  eet  ceiari  non 
pQtcBt ;"  but  we  shall  wave  our  cu- 
*iDsity  to  know  'the  author  of  the 
translation,  till  in  his  own  language, 
*««-waveringly  prophedck  indeed, 

.*'  Periu^,  embolden'd  by  tho  vxnce  of 
praise," 

he  «haH  again  appear  before  the 
publick,  and,  in  a  tone  more  eomi^ 
inanding,  claim  admission  into  the 
temfiie  if  fame. 

There  are  several  smaller  trans- 
lations in  this  volume^  from  aneiont 
and  modem  poets,  in  which  thei« 
.is  Uttle  to  censure  or  to  praise. 
Two  odes  from  Anturttm^  a  war 
•ong  from  Ti/ri£usy  an  ode  fbom 
the  Spanish  of  La  Vegth  ^^  por- 
tions from  Ta99o*9  JeruMoiem  JU^ 
Uveredy  are  among  the  number. 
Of  the  translations  from  Ta8SO,the 
«othor  remarks,  ^  if,  upon  oom^ 


^BnMn»  they  sboild  be  hai  b 
convey  n  justcr  rcpresent^iBi( 
the  originaMiutfi  the  cttTei^QoiD^ 
passages  of  Mr.  Hook's  Towi, 
the  svperionty  must  be  ticiibd 
to  the  peculiar  fitness  of  fafaik 
TCTse^  as  the  medivm  of  tmsb' 
tion,  where  the  «riginil  iin l^ 
tnarkaUy  distiDguiahed  bf  10017, 
majesty,  and  simplicity  of  ttjk' 
We  shall  enter  into  no  ccmtiovcnf 
with  the  writer  on  this  id>|ect 
Hooie,  in  his  Taieo,  has  al«l]rtd^ 
lighted  us,  and  deligfated  the  or 
for  having,  in  imitation  of  his  ^ 
riginal,  added  to  his  carrect  wrs^ 
fication  the  plea^g  orDament  ^ 
rhyme,  which  is  imt  incompaiS^ 
with  true  eiiUiim^.  We  do  as 
lay  that  a  tramahtion  of  TmM)  0 
good  as  Mr.  Hoole's,  can  new  be 
produced  ;  but  we  art  conte 
that  our  author  has  toomuduoo* 
desty  to  stand  forth  for  tht  p« 
of  8u/ieftoitty, 

The  most  con^derableiDloftk 
of  the  poems  in  this  volu»c,ciIW 
original,  is  one  entitled  ^Tktn- 
vmfihtfWomamJ*  «Thm%"tlic 
author  remarks,  •'a  oonodfli* 
hiatus  in  the  manuscript  of  tks 
poem ;  shoukl  the  publick  addfol^ 
deflencbuj  it  may  possibly  best 
ptied.'*  Th^^Sek  has  hu^ 
senMbility  enough  to  weep  €0«d 
occasions.  We  perused  it  b  the 
night,  and,  perchance,  sh«l  a  tor. 
In  some  instances  we  havt  itnii^ 
ed,  in  the  smaller  peems,  to  a^ 
fected  use  of  obsolete  tcnw-  ■ 
our  poets  continue  thb  pi**^ 
(for  others  are  guilty  of  the  w 
we  shall  soon  hare  to  lepsirtoA* 
/(^futm,  or  the  o«  **^  «*  J 
glofisa^ry  to  poems  of  the  wb«»*J 
century.  Another  species  »» 
fecution  in  this  writer  is  the  P^ 
liar  and  repeated  use  of  the  »«» 
ti ve,  with  the  omissioa  of  ift»PP^ 


pnate  sign  /•r— ^ 


wcw/»^ 


4agM  mfort,  cMut  imfmrt. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


iflmoiM  w  K9mtmm.kaa* 


JMT 


|K)itioB  of  the  orig^inftl  poetry  ;  bat 

fts  our  author  cannot  expect  to  build 

ins  fame  on  the  airy  fttbrick  of  son- 

tiets,  we  Tnake  him  no  apology  lor 

neglecting  thetn.    Altho'  there  are 

pieces  in  this  collection,  whkh  vrt 

are  not  disposed  to  censure,  irfe 

think  the  writer  has  still  before 

liim  the  arduous  task  of  establish«- 

ing  his  reputation  as  a  poet.    He 

certainly  undervalues,    or    sadly 

7       neglects,  the  harmony  of  numbers ; 

and,  though  he  sometimes  writes 

,        ^ood  sense,  he  fails  in  that  cailkki 

,;       junctunxy  or  dextrous  combination 

;.       of  words,  which  Horace,  the  great 

arbiter  in  matters  of  taste,  tells  us 

gives  to  an  old  thought  the  sem- 

3       blance  of  novelty. 

Thete  are  a  few  small  poems  In 
this  volume,  communicated  by  the 
friend,  who  wrote  the  introductory 
fetter.  These  are  sometimes  ac- 
companied by  a  little  marginal 
praise,  which,  as  it  is  a  mark  of  our 
author's  ^ra///tM/e,  we  highly  ap^ 
prove.  In  the  Knes  addretstd  to  a 
iadi/j  there  are  several  verses  which 
gave  us  pleasure  ;  and,  as  we  air- 
ways wish  our  readers  to  partici- 
pate with  us  the  sweet  as  well  as 
the  bitteTy  we  conclude  with  the 
two  following  verses  :..„ 

Thetrtc^diagtears  whidi  flow'd  atnigfat 
O^  hamt  thoa  fitay'd,  till  mormnip  li|^t 

DispcU'd  my  little  woe?  ; 
So  fly  before  the  sun-beam's  power 
The  reiTinants  of  the  evening  shower, 

Whfich  wet  th^  eiurly  ro««. 

As  oft  bis  anspoiis  nur«e  has  caught^ 
And  3av'd  Iris  little  hand,  that  sought 

The  bright  but  treach'rous  blaze  ; 
So  ma}'  fair  wisdom  keep  hfm  sur^ 
From  glittMng  vices,  which  alhire 

"Tbroogh  life'#  delusive  maze. 


JJlT.  61* 

Menmf  ttf  Richard  CUMbtirlung. 
Written  h^  ium^elf,  Cvntaantig 
en  nccQUfH  9fid%  Uft  and  Vfruingij 
intervened  vitk  anecdoiea  and 
characttra  of  Metered  qf  the  numi 
dUtmguUked  fienone  of  ids  ttrntf 
vrith  whom  he  fuu^kad  intereovrae 
and  cannejcwn.  New- York,  pub- 
li^ed  by  Biiaban  &  firannon. 
Svo,pp,256. 

FROM  the  life  of  Cuinberlanii 
we  had  expected  much,  and  our 
expectations  are  not  disappointed. 
Yet  our  gratification  has  not  been 
iiniform  or  uninterrupted.  When 
the  literary  veteran  speaks  of  his 
own  services  in  the  world  of  let- 
ters, he  commonly  fixes  attention  ; 
when  he  talks  of  the  wits,  his  con- 
temporaries, he  11  always  listened 
^  with  pleasure  ;  but  he  wishes 
us  besides  to  be  acquainted  with 
all  the  branches  of  his  fiimily,  with 
his  masters  and  his  rivals  at  the 
university,  whose  names  we  have 
seldom  heard  before,  and  of  whom 
we  shall  never  inquire  hereafter. 
Much  of  his  book  is  also  devoted 
to  his  political  concerns,  and  this 
we  could  comentediy  have  spared. 

The  cWef  difficulty  in  reading 
this  work  arises  from  the  want  of 
dates.  The  events  of  one  season 
after  another,  from  youth  to  age, 
are  related  by  the  biographer  with  • 
out  desi|!^ating  the  years,  in  which 
they  happened  ;  and  he  talks  of 
the  next  spring,  or  the  next  win- 
•ter,  when  we  can  hardly  determine 
them  with  more  certainty,  than  the 
chronology  of  Priam. 

Of  those  productions,  to  which 
the  world  has  showed  Htlle  kind- 
ness, the  aulhor  gives  us  large  ex* 
tracts.  In  the  decline  of  lifc  the 
oflspring  of  his  youth  seem  dearer 
to  him  than  those  of  his  maturity, 
and  he  vainly  wishes  them  to  be 
received  into  the  same  company. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


S9$ 


MBMOlllB  or  eUMBEKLAffBt 


The  tecUous  transcripts  in  pages 
85,  48^9  341,  besides  inost  of  the 
ninety  pages  of  his  dtplomatick 
transactions  in  Spain,  increase  the 
cost  of  his  hooiy  while  they  add 
little  to  its  vaJue.  During  tthe 
visit  to  the  lakes  of  Cumberland, 
**  the  sun,"  says*our  author,  "  was 
never  very  gracious  to  our  suit  ;** 
nor  can  this  excite  surprise,  if  his 
refulgence  was  only  to  be  hoped 
from  fhe  languid  invocation  he  has 
coined  for  us. 

Of  the  style  the  general  char- 
acter is  ease  without  grace,  and  it 
sometimes  falls  below  the  sim- 
plicity of  conversation  towards  vul- 
garity. ^  I  declare  to  truth"  is 
is  not  the  language  of  a  gentleman. 
The  thoughts  are  lively  rather 
than  instructive.  There  are  few 
profound  observalions  ;  but  many 
animated  simili^s,  and  many  un^ 
expected  combinations. 

The  anecdotes  of  the  well-known 
characters  of  Johnson,  Goldsmith, 
Garrick,  ami  Foote  will  be  often 
perused  with  delight.  Of  Gar^ 
rick,  whose  sphere  was  remote 
from  his  own,  Cumberland  speaks 
in  the  most  generous  aivi  deserved 
commendation  ;  but  the  domain 
of  Goldsmith  borders  on  the  pi*ov- 
ince  of  the  biogi^pher  ;  and,  in 
his  notes  of  praise,  we  distinguish 
the*  tone  of  a  rival. 

From  the  account  of  those  perp 
sons,  whose  virtues  are  less  known 
than  their  names,  we  extract  for 
-gciieral  information  the  character 
of  Loi*d  North.  "  When  in  pro- 
cess of  time  I  saw  and  knew  Lord 
North  in  his  retirement  from  all 
pubiick  affairs,  patient,  collected, 
resigi^ed  to  an  afflicting  visitation 
of  the  severest  sort,  when  all,  but 
his  illuminated  mind,  was  dark 
around  him,  I  contemplated  an  af- 
fecting and  an  edify  ini;  object,  that 
claimed   my   adaiiiation   and    es- 


teem ;  a  roan,  who,  when  diverted 
of  that  incidental  greamess,  whicb 
high  office  for  a  time  can  give, 
^elf-dignified  and  independent,  rote 
to  real  greatness  of  his  own  creal- 
ing,  which  no  time  can  take  away ; 
whose  genius  gave  a  grace  to  every 
thing  he  said,  and  whose  beniguty 
shed  a  lustrt;  upon  every  thing  br 
iiid  ;  so  richly  was  bis  memory 
stored,  and  so  lively  was  bis  im- 
aginatipn  in  applying  what  be  re- 
membered, that,  after  the  great 
source  of  information  was  shq^ 
against  himself,  he  still  possess^ 
a  boundless  fund  of  informatioa 
for  the  instruction  and  delight  q[ 
others." 

The  last  words  of  Viscorait 
Sackville,  more  known  in  our 
country,  as  Lord  George  Ger* 
maine,  clo  lionour  to  the  memory 
of  a  man  of  talents.  «  You  sec 
jne  now  in  those  nxoments,  wba 
no  disguise  w^ll  ser;ve,  and  whea 
the  spirit  .of  a  man  must  be  pro%'ecL 
J  have  a  min^  perfectly  rcsigncc^ 
and  at  peace  within  jtscl/1  I  hare 
done  with  this  world,  and  what  I 
have  done  in  it,  t  have  done  for 
jtlie  best  ;  I  hope  and  trust  I  aoi 
pi-epared  f^r  the  next.  Tell  not 
;iie  of  all|  that  passes  in  health 
and  pride  of  heart ;  these  are  the 
moments,  in  which  a  man  must 
he  searched,  and  remember,  thac  I 
die,  as  you  see  me,  with  a  traoqid 
conscience  and  content." 

The  heart  of  the  author,  as  evi- 
dently appears  from  many  places 
in  his  narration,  is  of  the  most 
amiable  disposition,  deeply  imbued 
with 

~ "  ttll  the  charities 

Of  father,  sod,  and  brother." 

Though  his  family  mi^orttmcf 
allow  us  not  to  exclaim,  hoppy  old 
man  !  with  more  fervency  than 
Horace  we  shaM  pray,  scrus  ir^ 
calum  rcdeas. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


?BlLADXLFHlA  MStlCAL  MUtBtJll. 


iif 


ART.  62. 
TM  Philadei/i/tta  Medical  Museum, 
By  John  Redman  Coxej  M.  D, 
Vols.  L  and  IL  8vo.  Phila- 
delphia, Archibald  Bartram,  for 
Thomas  Dobson. 

Periodical  publications  may 
be    considered  one  effect  of  the 
new  directiony  which  the  genius  of 
Bacon  gave  to   the  powers  of  the 
liaind.      Before  that  era  of   true 
philosophy  the  medical  art   was 
obscured  by  hypothetical  reason- 
ings, founded  on   fancied   proper- 
ties of  matter,  or  on  the  combina- 
tion of  certain  elements,  which  ex- 
isted only  in  the   writings  of  the 
philosophers.     From  absurd  theo- 
ries resulted  curious  and  unfortu- 
nate modes  of  treatment  ;  and  the 
evident  incongruity,  arising  from 
the  application  of  preconceived  hy- 
potheses to  the  cure  of  diseases, 
drew  from  a  celebrated  ancient  phy- 
sician the  observation,  that  medi- 
cine was  merely  a  "conjectural 
art."      The  revolution,  however, 
which  tlie,  method  of  reasoning  by 
induction  (produced  on  most  of  the 
physical  ^sciences,  was    gradually 
extended^  to    that    of  medicine. 
Theories  were  deserted  for  facts, 
and  speculative  opinions  lor  the 
knowledge  of  the  operations  of  na- 
ture.     The   science  of  medicine 
acquired  new  principles,  and  as- 
sumed a  new  character.      Hence 
resulted   the  anxiety  of  philoso- 
phers to  collect  feicts,  and,  from 
the  same  principle,  proceeded  the 
extensive    epistolary     correspon- 
dence, which,  for  a  long  period, 
was  attached  to  eminence  in  the 
medical    profession.      Physicians 
were  eager  to  obtain  some  portion 
of  that  pi*actical  knowledge,  which 
tJie  patriarchs  of  medicine  were 
able  and  willing  to  impart.      But 
tiiis  mode  of  communication  was 
Taborious  in  c;xecution^  and  limited 


in  effect.  The  calls  of  diity*,'  aikl 
the  fieitigues  of  practice,  allowed 
but  little  time  to  be  4e voted  to  the 
arranging  of  those  ideas,  and  de^ 
cription  of  those  cases,  ijrhich  an 
acute  and  habitual  observation  had 
gradually  collected.  The  incon-* 
venience,  resulting  from  this  mode 
of  publication,  added  to  the  convic- 
tion, that  many  useful  observations 
and  important  discoveries  were 
lost,  merely  through  want  of  a  pro« 
per  vehicle  to  convey  them  fo  the 
publick  mind,  first  suggested  the 
idea  of  periodical  works.  The  Ad- 
vantages of  these  were  8cx>n  obvi- 
ous. So  soon  as  it  was  known,  that 
detached  portions  of  practical 
laiowledge  might  be  published,  un- 
connected with  systems,  and  un- 
supported by  theories,  every  one 
was  willing  to  contribute  his  share 
of  experience  to  the  publick  good. 
Works  of  this  nature  multipHed, 
and  were  soon  disseminated  thro* 
almost  every  nation  in  Europe.— 
Periodical  publications,  in  fact, may 
be  considered  the  indices,  whicli 
mark  the  progress  of  the  sciences. 
They  arc  the  depositaries  of  those 
researches  and  discoveries,  which 
acute  and  sagacious  minds  have 
collected  on  those  branches  of  gen- 
eral science,  to  which  each  of  these 
works  is  respectively  appropriateii- 
In  our  own  country  the  progress 
of  this  great  improvement  was  ex- 
tremely slow.  For  a  long  period 
we  were  contented  to  reason  on  the 
facts,  and  practise  on  the  principles' 
of  European  systems.  SocieUc:*. 
for  the  advancement  of  medicine 
have  successively  pledged  them-, 
selves  to  favour  the  publick  with 
their  transactions,  but  that  respon- 
sibility, which  is  efficient  in  an  in- 
ctividual,  becomes  weakened  by  ex- 
tension. The  ardor  scienti3e,which 
glows  in  the  bosoms  of  a  few,  is  of- 
ten extinguished  by  diffusion. 
This  impediment  is  to  be  discox  * 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


iCM^ 


f  ttiliBMPIIU  IM^irM*  WiaEQII. 


ef^  in  wrnnk  cou^efb  Our  coun-* 
try  ift  c«rtainl]F  cap^Ue  of  afford* 
lag  rich  luod  abundaiU  materials 
for  works  o(  this  nature*  Th« 
territory  of  the  United  States  is  of 
immeooe  extent,  and  comprebends 
nvhhin  its  boundaries,  every  Variety 
of  soiiy  and  almost  everv  modi£« 
cation  of  dinate.  Our  belda  are 
suU  imexploreil  by  the  botsnist^ 
and  our  jnountains  by  the  mioend* 
ogtsji.  New  diseases  hare  ariseiH 
whose^origio  and  nature  are  stiU 
the  subjects  of  controTersy  among 
our  physicians ;  while  the  diseases 
of  Europe^  modified  by  our  di' 
mates  nid  modei  of  living,  re* 
qoire  new  applicatioDs  and  diflfer- 
oot  Bdodes  of  treatment.  Know- 
ings therefore,  that  we  possess  in- 
exhaustible stores  of  new  nuOter, 
it  was  with  much  pleasure  we 
opened  the  work  before  us,  the 
third  of  the  kind  devoted  to  medi- 
cal pursuits,  published  in  this  coun- 
try%  In  the  formation  of  a  work 
like  this,  the  first  object  of  atten- 
tion, undoubtedly,  for  its  impor- 
tance, is  a  collection  of  facts  on  our 
diseases,  particularly  our  autumnal 
epidemicks.  It  is  well  known,that 
the  moat  respectable  physiciaBs  of 
the  southern  and  middle  states 
faaTe  been  and  still  are  engaged  in 
1^  controversy,  respecting  the  on-- 
gin,  the  nature,  and  the  modes  of 
treatment  of  the  bilious  remitting 
fever.  A  collection,  therefore,  of 
imthemick  documents,  relative  to 
t^is  disease,  so  as  to  form  a  regular 
chronological  account,  may  tend  to 
elucidate  these  dbputed  points,  and 
consequently  to  mitigate  that  ran- 
cour, with  which  this  contest  of 
opinion  has  been  conducted,  and 
which  has  thrown  no  small  degree 
of  odium  on  the  medical  profes- 
sion. Next  to  these  we  class  ac- 
counts of  the  vegetable  and  mineral 
proiluctions  of  our  own  country. 
Hare  we  find  open  to  our  view  a 


rich  field  of  inqmry .  This  brajch 
of  knowledge  has  been  too  mock 
neglected.  Physicians  of  the  ia^ 
riour  have,  from  nccesmty,acqidr- 
ed  a  kind  of  empyrical  knovi' 
edge  of  our  indigenoua  ^Aau 
This,  however,  has  been  in  genenl 
confined  within  their  own  sphere 
of  practice.  Yet  medidncs}  £v 
which  the  phy^cian  of  the  cit^  k 
indebted  to  hia  retort  and  cra^i 
are  often  found  by  the  ^  culler  o( 
simplea,''  really  prepared  is  tbe 
great  laboratory  of  natAre.  To 
these  should  be  added  accoonU  d 
the  variations  of  the  weather,  ud 
of  diseases  connected  witUtbas 
states. 

The  Medical  Musnem,  cad 
number  of  which  appears  citrf 
four  months,  is  divided  into  thice 
Ivnida.  The  first  is  devoted  to 
original  commnnications  ;  the  »* 
cond,  denootinated  the  PhiloaopbK 
cal  and  Medical  Register,  coittiifis 
extracts  from  European  jonnah, 
and  gives  accovnts  of  those  &* 
coveries,  which  tend  to  the  ad- 
vancement of  medicine  and  of  the 
sciences^  with  which  it  is  coaaect* 
ed  »  the  third  diviskm  is  amply  as 
enumeration  of  new  pubOESuiai 
The  limits  of  a  review  wfllMt 
permit  us  to  examine  in  dttaii  the 
muhifiuious  productions,  bj  whkk 
works  like  Uiess  are  necessaii); 
constituted.  We  shall  cn^  bric^ 
ly  notice  those  papers,  which  ap- 
pear valuable  to  us  for  prsctical 
observations,  or  fiDr  the  succeasfid 
exhibition  of  new  remedies  is  tk 
cure  of  diseases.  On  the  ytkff 
fever  we  find  seveml  conamuoics' 
tbns.  The  first  volume  comi»«* 
ces  with  the  account  of  DrJiitchdli 
of  the  fever  in  Virginia,  ia  1741-i 
This  is  communicated  by  Dr.Ruaib 
and  is  the  same,  if  wa  mistake  M*f 
to  which  he  refers  in  his  own  wed 
on  that  subject ;  and  which  gave 
him  the  hittt«  that  first  kd  to  #^ 


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^ttllADKLPHIA  MEDICAL  iTUSEtJH. 


col 


adoption  of  his  new  mode  of  treat- 
ing that  disease*  This  paper  is 
followed  by  some  observations 
found  in  the  note  book  of  Dr. 
Kearsley,  sen.,  on  the  difference 
between  the  disease  described  by 
Dr.  Mitchell,  and  that  which  ap- 
peared in  Philadelphia  about  the 
same  period.  At  page  32  com- 
mences a  series  of  letters  from  Dr'. 
Drysdale  to  Dr.  Rush,  on  the  yel- 
low fever  of  Baltimore  in  1794. 
We  have  neither  time  nor  inclina- 
tion to  enter  on  the  discussion  of 
the  merits  of  the  theories,  advanced 
by  the  professor  of  medicine  at  the 
school  of  Philadelphia,  and  pub- 
lished in  die  last  edition  of  his 
works.  We  shall  only  observe, 
that  the  elaborate  work  of  Dr. 
Drysdale  is  evidently  a  very  close 
imitation  of  the  Style  and  peculiar 
an'angcment  of  his  celebi*ated 
medical  prototype.  They  are, 
however,  written  with  ability,  and, 
we  presume,  with  truth  ;  and  we 
consider  them  as  valuable  additions 
to  the  miass  of  facts,  already  col- 
lected on  this  formidable  disease. 
At  page  60  we  have  some  cases 
from  Dr.  Rush  on  the  efficacy  of 
the  acetite  of  lead  in  the  cure  of 
epilepsy.  From  his  observations 
it  appears,  that  in  three  cases,  irt 
which  the  exhibition  of  this  medi- 
cine produced  a  radical  cure,  the 
Subjects  were  urtder  the  age  of 
puberty.  On  a^lft,  however,  he 
thinks  its  salutjJJr  action  merely 
temporary.  It  was  with  much 
pleasure  therefore,  that  we  perused 
the  account  of  Dr.  Spence,  (vol. 
II.  p.  150)  who  believes  himself 
cured  of  this  forhiidable  disease  by 
the  use  of  this  medicine.  It  is 
worthy  of  observation,  that  during 
the  progress  of  cure,  the  system 
discovered  many  of  those  effects, 
which  seem  to  be  excited  only  by 
the  exhibition  of  mercury,  partic- 
lilarly  those  local  symptoms,  by 
Vol.  III.  No.  11.  4D 


which  the  action  of  the  latter  h 
characterised.  Its  effects  also  on 
the  alimentary  canal  very  nearly 
resembled  the  symptoms  of  the 
colica  pictonum.  It  may  be  queSr 
tioned,  whether  the  salutary  ope- 
ration of  the  sugar  of  lead  might 
not  be  produced  by  a  more  gradual 
exhibition,  by  which  those  unplea- 
sant consequences  produced  in  Dr. 
Spence  might  be  avoided.  At  any 
rate,  this  paper  deserves  Consider- 
ation for  its  practical  importance, 
though  we  are  by  no  means  dis- 
posed, with  the  Doctor,  to  ascribd 
its  beneficial  effects  to  the  co-ope- 
ration of  lunar  influence. 

In  the  first  volume,  p.  189,  w6 
find  an  important  paper,  by  Dr. 
Physick,  of  Philadelphia,  on  the 
use  of  blisters  in  checking  th6 
progress  of  mortification.  It  ii 
unnecessary  however  to  notice  ev- 
ery individual  paper.  It  is  suft 
ficient,  we  think,  to  mention 
the  very  respectable  names  of 
Rush,  Physick,  DeWees,  Wood- 
house,  and  of  CoXe  the  editor,  as 
authors  of  a  great  proportion  of 
these  commutiicatidns,  to  insure  a 
favourable  reception  of  the  Muse- 
um. On  the  subject  of  our  indi- 
genous medicinal  plants,  the  in- 
quiries of  Dr.  Co^e  are,  in  some 
degree,  superseded  by  the  labourd 
of  Professor  Barton,  the  editor  of 
a  periodical  work,  a  considerable 
portion  of  which  is  exclusively  de- 
voted to  this  important  branch  of 
medicine.  The  communications^ 
however,  of  Dr.  Mease  and  of  Dr. 
Watkins,  published  in  the  Muse- 
um, must  be  considered  valuable 
additions  to  our  domestick  materia 
medica. 

The  second  division  of  the  Me- 
dical Museum  is  made  up  of  ex- 
tracts from  European  publicationt 
on  discoveries  or  improvements 
in  chcmistiy,  or  the  arts ;  of  me- 
dical news  and  of  domestick  jour- 


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FHXLABELPHIA   MEDICAL    MUSEVU. 


nals  of  the  weather,  of  diseases, 
&c.     We  notice  with  much  plea- 
sure a   considerable   poriion  of  it 
devoted  to  subjects  connected  with 
the  cow-pock.     On   this  interest- 
ing disease  the  editor  has  not  only 
inade  copious  extracts  of  new  and 
important  facts,  published  in  Eu- 
ropean journals,  but  added  all  the 
the  remarks  and  useful  informa- 
Uon  he  has  gradually  collected  re- 
lative to  vaccination  in  our  own 
country.     In  volume  2d,  p.  200, 
he  has  presented  us  with  the  very 
interesting    examination   of  Mr. 
Goldson's  second  pamphlet,  by  Dr. 
Pearson  of  London,    read  before 
the  Vaccine   Institution,  Golden- 
square.     We  recommend  this  pa- 
per to  the  perusal  of  those  whose 
minds  may  have  been  thrown  into 
a   state   of  oscillation,  by   an  ac- 
quaintance  with   that  publication. 
We  cannot  refrain  from  mention- 
ing in  this  place  an  extract  from  a 
letter  from  London,  p.  93,  volume 
2,  in  which  the  writer  laments  the 
fatal  effects  resulting  from  the  ex- 
hibition of  quack  medicines.     Mr. 
Clayton  of  Yorkshire  has  caution- 
ed the  publick  against  the  use  of 
"  Ching's  worm  lozenges.'*     \V*e 
shall    extract   his   short  account. 
«  He  stated  that  he  had  two  child- 
ren to  whom  he  administered  this 
medicine.       One    of  them    died 
shortly  after,  but  his   disease  was 
attributed  to  w^orms,with  which  he 
had  long  been  afflicted.     Within  a 
very  short  period  the   elder  sur- 
vivor became  dangerously  ill,  a 
comfdete  salivation   cTisued  ;  medi- 
cal aid  was  now  procured,  but  too 
late  to  relieve  the  child,  who  died 
in  great  agony  within  a  few  hours. 
On.  dissection,  a  large   portion  of 
mercury  was  found  in   the  intes- 
tines.    A  coroner's  jury  was  as- 
sembled, who,  together  with  the 
surgeon,   gave  this  verdict,  'Died 
by  mercurial  poison,  administered 


in  the  form  of  Ching's  Lozcagc*.' 
We  hear  with  much  satisfociiav. 
that  the  Medical  Society  of  L»- 
don  is  taking  effectual  measures  la 
discover  tliesc  evil  spirits  of  quack- 
ery, with  an  intention  of  baiuah 
ing  them  from  society,  and  bokSi^ 
them  up  as  proper  objects  for  tfe 
contempt  and  detestation  of  xfe 
world. 

In  the  Register  we  find  sokc 
valuable  abstracts  of  meteorok^ 
cal  observations  made  ai  Phihdd- 
phia.  These  would  have  bees 
rendered  more  useful  by  ibc  tL- 
dition  of  an  account  of  diseacs 
connected  with  different  staitsd 
the  weather,  tliough  th<  necessiiy 
of  this  is  in  some  degree  obrij^ 
by  journals  of  the  diseases  it  tk 
Philadelphia  Dispensary. 

The  third  division  of  the  Mc- 
seum  is  simply  an  enumeratka  d 
new  medical  publications.  Wc 
cannot  help  regretting,  that  the  rt- 
gister  was  not,  in  some  d^rtc 
curtailed,  or  tlie  limits  of  the  work 
extended  to  make  room  fw  re- 
views of  new  domestick  or  of  it- 
published  Eurcq)ean  -works,  ca 
subjects  connected  with  the  sciaiie 
of  medicine.  This  wouW  be  in- 
teresting to  all,  but  particuIjulT  to 
physicians,  who,  residing  at  a  &- 
tance  from  our  capital  cides,  iaie 
no  opportunity  of  ascertaining  the 
value  of  a  work,  before  they  hiTc 
risked  a  purch^.  By  judicio© 
observations  on|kw  publicatkasi 
they  will  be  enal^d  at  once  to  per- 
ceive those,  which  arc  cakubled 
to  aid  them  in  their  practicc,rathcr 
than  merely  to  ornament  the  shehw 
of  their  libraries.  We  hope  Uk 
able  editor  of  the  Museum  vifl 
give  the  characters  of  the  norbi 
which  he  may  enumerate  id  \e& 
subsequent  numbers.  Upon  the 
whole,  we  consider  the  Phifa- 
delplda  Medical  Museum  as  a  r^ 
respectable  publication.     Wc  lui« 


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IrOSCARI,   on   THR    \TiJJETlAN   EXlLK. 


60S 


perused  the  multifarious  produc- 
lions  in  these  two  vohimes  with 
much  satisfaction,  and  not  without 
improvement.  We  have  com- 
pared .it  with  several  European 
publications  of  the  same  kind,  and 
find  it  inferiour  to  none  in  execu- 
tion. It  is  remarkably  free  from 
typographical  errours.  The  en- 
gravings, since  added  by  the  tjditor, 
though  not  promised  in  the  pros- 
pectus, add  much  to  the  value  of 
the  work,  and  are  favourable  speci- 
mens of  the  engrapbick  powers  of 
Lawson.  We  sincerely  hope, that 
Dr.  Coxe  will  meet  with  that  en- 
couragement from  the  publick, 
which  his  attention  and  abilities  as 
an  editor  and  the  respectable  char- 
acter of  his  work  have  led  him  to 
expect. 


ART  63. 

Foscari^  or  the  Venetian  Exile  ;  a 
Tragedy  in  Jive  acts^  as  fierform- 
ed  at  the  Charleston  Theatre. 
By  John  B.  Wfiite,  Charleston, 
printed  for  the  author  by  J.  Hoff, 
No.  6,  Broad-street.    1806. 

Tragedy,  according  to  Aris- 
totle, w  an  iimtation^  in  ornamental 
language^  qf,  an  action  imfiortant 
and  com/dete,  and  fiossessing  a  cer^ 
tain  degree  of  magnitude^  having  itn 
forrnB  distinct  in  their  res/iective 
/larts^  and  by  the  rcfirenentation  of 
fieraons  actings  and  ?iot  by  narra- 
tion affecting^  through  the  mean  of 
pity  and  terroury  the  fiurgation  of 
such  fmasiona. 

Tills  firofiontum  of  the  great 
Stagirite  partakes  as  much  of  the 
nature  of  a  definilion,  as  of  a  rule  ; 
for  that,  which  was  once  necessary, 
continues  indispensable,  and  the 
original  intent  of  tragedy  has  now 
the  permanency  of  usage,  and  the 
^cfurity  of    prescription.      It  is, 


however,  much  to  be  lamented, 
that  the  part  of  the  poetic,  which 
treats  of  tragedy,  is  only  abstract 
and  elementary,  and  that  the  mind 
has  not  the  satisfaction  of  its  his- 
tory from  so  authoritative  a  source, 
its  origin  is  only  to  be  traced  in 
the  obscurity  of  mythology  through 
the  confusion  of  vague  theorists 
and  countless  commentators.  That 
tragedy,  however,  originated  in  an- 
cient divine  worship  is  very  plain, 
its  lirst  appearance  is  evidently  in 
the  hymns,  which  were  sung  in 
honour  of  Bacchus,  at  the  sacri- 
fices of  the  goat,*  its  bite  being 
particularly  destructive  of  the  vine. 
This  sacrifice  grew  into  an  annual 
festival.  The  hymns  and  songs 
Were  increased,  and  dancing  was 
added  to  the  musick  of  the  chorus. 
The  first  state  of  every  human 
invention  is  impqrfect.  As  it  is  a 
principle  in  the  physical  world, 
that  all  things,  at  their  production, 
are  subject  to  increase  and  matu- 
rity, so  is  it  an  ordinance  in  intel- 
lectual creation,  that  every  thing, 
invented  by  human  intelligence,  is 
capable  of  improvement  ;  and 
therefore  every  great  system,  at 
its  origin,  is  no  more  than  the  in- 
ceplion  of  perfection,  or  the  first 
act  of  successive  improvement. 
This  truth  is  more  familiarly  prov- 
ed by  observing  and  tracing  the 
effects,  on  men  generally,  of  tliose 
institutions  which  were  made  for 


•  Hence  the  word  Tragedy,  from 
Igxyoi  and  dn.  Tiie  commentators,  not 
content  witli  this  most  natural  and  ob- 
vious interpretation,  have  given  us  sev- 
eral. Some  of  tliem  turn  Tfuyuiia  into 
T^yvSia^  and  so  derive  it  from  T^$,  tJie 
lees  of  wine,  witli  which  the  old  actors 
besmeared  their  faces.  Others  inform 
us  that  r^  signifies  new  wine,  a  skin 
of  wliich  was  usually  given  to  iJie  i>oet, 
like  tlie  butt  of  sack  to  our  laui-eat. 
— Francklin*s  Dlb^crta.  ou  anci«4t 
Tragedy. 


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«04 


r05CA|lI,  OB  THE   YEKETIAN  EXILE. 


their  anittscnient.  At  first,  there 
is  a  very  powerful  charm,  arising 
from  the  invention  ;  but  as  soon  as 
the  novelty  subsides,  they  eagerly 
look  for  something  more  to  supply 
its  place.  Such  is  the  uneasiness 
of  delight  with  a  populace,  that 
they  cannot  be  long  gratified,  un- 
less the  additions  of  pleasure  be 
inade  commensurate  with  the  ex- 
tent of  their  power  of  being  pleas- 
ed. This  was  what  gradually  im» 
proved  and  perfected  tragedy.  The 
wmeness  of  the  hymns  of  the 
chorus  fatigued,  and,  in  order  to 
relieve  the  audience,  Thespis  in- 
'Vented,and  rehearsed  in  characteri 
«ome  tal^  in  the  intervals  of  the 
chorus.  Still  satiety  and  reple- 
tion were  wearisome,  and  it  was 
left  for  iEschylus  to  perform  so 
much  by  improvement,  that  he  is 
justly  denominated  the  father  of 
tragedy.  The  single  personage^ 
which  Thespis  introduced  in  the 
intervals  of  the  chorus,  wanted  in- 
terest ;  i£schylus  therefore  intro-? 
duced  a  second,  and  thus  formed 
dialogue  and  episode.  These 
raised  action  and  interest,  and  a 
'Continuity  of  events  folio  wed,  which 
awakened,  and  closely  possessed 
the  attention  of  the  audience,  till 
the  chorus  was  almost  forgotten, 
or,  at  most,  retained  only  as  an 
auxiliary  in  the  drama. 

The  constitHcnt  parts  of  ancient 
tragedy  were,  the  prologue,  the 
episode,  the  exode,  and  the  chorus. 
The  prologue  answered  to  the 
exordium  in  oratory,  giving  an 
idea,  in  some  measure,  of  the 
whole.  It  afibrded  sufficient  in- 
sight into  the  construction  of  the 
drama,  so  as  .  to  excite  interest 
in  the  audience,  without  admitting 
it  so  far,  as  to  take  away  the  effect 
of  what  was  to  succeed,  and  operate 
as  surprise.  This  answers  to  the 
first  act  of  modern  tragedy. 

The  episode  is  all   that  part  of 
the  tragedy,  which  was  between 


the  hymns  of  the  chorus,  and  ccm- 
taincd  the  whole  of  the  plot.  This 
answers  to  our  second,  third,  and 
fourth  acts,  containing  all  the  im- 
portant parts  of  tlie  fable.  The 
Stagirite  is  so  strict  and  rigid  in 
his  rules  of  episode,  that  he  for- 
bids the  introduction  of  any  mat- 
ter, to  make  a  part  of  it,  which 
could  p>ossibly  be  taken  away, with- 
out being  missed.  .  Much  there- 
fore depends  on  the  episodet  so 
that  the  plot  be  conducted  to  pro- 
duce the  most  unexpected  peri- 
peteia, and  the  most  sensible  pa- 
thos.* This  division  determines 
the  character  of  thQ  dramatick 
poet. 

The  exode  was  that  part  which 
was  recited,  after  the  chorus  ceas- 
ed singing,  and  is  our  fifth  act, 
containing  the  catastrophe  and 
disentangling  of  the  plot. 

It  has  been  a  question  in  dra- 
matick criticism,  whether  modem 
tragedy  has  been  injured,  or  i no- 
proved,  by  the  omission  of  the 
chorus.  Whether  a  set  of  con- 
stant spectators  to  the  general  ac- 
tion, and  sometimes  coadjutors  in 
it,  and  always  attendants  on  the 
high  characters,  would  not  give 
and  receive  more  interest  in  what 
was  delivered  and  passed  before 
them,  than  can  be  effected  by 
modem  arrangement.  The  heroes 
of  latter  tragedy  have  to  com- 
municate their  schemes,  secrecies, 
and  sufferings  to  the  audience 
through  an  insipid  confident  or  a 
trusty  servant,  or  the  strong  con- 
vulsions of  passion  subside  in 
the  tedium  of  a  long  soliloquy. 
What  can  be  more  absurd,  than  a 
high^wrought  femaje  charactcF 
communing  with  a  drab,  and  deli- 

•  nfftmrtia  Is  an  unexpected  reverse 
of  fortune  in  tin?  persons  acting,  neces- 
sarily or  pix)bably  arising  from  the  in- 
cidents ;  -oaSof  is  that  part  of  the  action 
which  is  either  fatal  or  painfuL— Ari^t* 
Poet.  CU.  XIL 


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fPSCARI,  OR   TB«  TtlCRTllK  XXlfB, 


fiOf 


cate  aiiaery  seeking  sympathy 
from  a  chambermaidt  luade  up  of 
all  the  tarnished  gewgaw^  of  the 
wardrobe.  There  is  something 
also  most  repugnapt  to  common 
sense  and  experience  in  the  doc- 
trine of  monologue  or  soliloquy. 
In  hearing  soliloquy,  the  audience 
must  suppose  one  of  two  things, 
viz.  the  actor  talking  to  himself, 
or  tliinking  aloud.  In  real  life,  a 
man,  who  is  in  the  habit  of  the 
former,  is  invariably  the  subject  of 
laughter  and  ridicule  ;  thinking 
aloud  is  mere  metaphor.  But  in 
the  presence  of  the  chorus,  the 
hero  was  amongst  his  own  friends, 
and,  of  course,  had  a  plain  dra- 
inatick  right  of  addressing  them, 
and  communicating  to  them  his 
purposes  and  feelings,  which  reach- 
ed the  ear  of  the  audience,  without 
absurdity  or  disgust. 

Another  defect  of  modem  trag*- 
edy  is  in  general  action  and  dis- 
play. The  ancients,  though  they 
had  no  variety  of  local  scene,  had 
a  magnifipence  in  the  drama,  whjch 
is  almost  altogether  wanting  in 
our  own.  The  cothurnus  Js  now 
reduced  to  the  coipnion  shoe.  So 
Uttle  attention  was  once  paid  to 
the  splendour,  and  even  propriety 
of  costume,  that  such  a  character 
as  Cato  was  nourishing  and  floun- 
cing on  the  DruryrLane  stage  in 
a  big  sleeve  coat  and  full  bottom- 
ed periwig,  and  thus  were  meta-r 
morphoscd  the  heroes  of  ancient 
limes, 

*'  A  motley  mixture  !   in  long  wigs,  in 

bap. 
In  silks,  in  crapes,  in  garters,  and  in 

ra^." 

Shakespeare,  who  needed,  less 
than  any  writer,  splendour  and  dis- 
play of  action,  has  more  than  any 
of  the  modern  school.  Tragedy, 
from  solemnity  of  sentiment  and 
pomp  of  language,  requires  unrcr 


aentation,  filled  with  magnificence 
and  grandeur.  Every  tone  is  sol- 
emn, so  ought  to  be  every  step, 
and  the  cause  and  effect  of  senti- 
ment and  action  to  h^  correspond 
dent  and  proportionate. 

Aristotle  lays  down  effect  as  the 
true  test  and  proof  of  excellence 
in  drama.  This  canon  of  anti- 
quity is  altogether  favourable  to 
the  pretensions  of  modern  trage- 
dy. If  Melpomerae  could  sit  in 
mdgment  on  her  iEschylus  and 
Shakespeare,  her  Sophocles  and 
Otway,  and  her  Euripides  and 
Rowe,  would  not  the  spirits  of  h^r 
younger  offspring  receive  the  lus- 
tre of  her  smile  ?  But,  however 
high  and  bright  these  names  may 
stand,  together  with  the  copvenlion 
of  Congreve,  Southern,and  Young, 
for  the  latter  times,  of  tragedy 
we  must  hide  our  faces.  HoJmc 
and  Douglas,  and  the  Carmelite 
and  Cumberland,  live  long  in  their 
dotage,  and  we  think  it  not  rash- 
ness to  predict,  that  tlieir  tragedies 
will  be,  by  and  by,  amongst  the 
rubbish  before  the  flood  ;  and  if 
Cumberland  be  not  remembered 
by  his  Carmelite,  Gustavus  and 
Brooks,  and  the  Grecian  Daughter 
and  Murphy,  must  be  also  for- 
gotten. 

We  have  been  tracing  the  sober 
steps  of  the  Muse  through  the 
dusky  paths  of  antiquity,  and  been 
charmed  with  her  demure  and 
plaintive  mein,  as  she  stalked  with 
slow  and  solemn  pace  through 
more  modem  times.  Her  air  Mas 
then  mighty  and  majealick,  her 
tones  thiilling,  and  her  utterance 
deep,  her  visage  contemplative  and 
sorrowful,  her  eyes  full,  imd  din> 
with  grief,  and  as  they  were  lifted 
upwards,  their  lashes  hanging  M-itli 
.tear  drops.  But,in  our  own  couir- 
try,  how  is  slje  her  own  caricature  J 
Her  change,  with  us,  is  like  that 
of  the  actress,  who,  a  few  moments 


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VOSCARI)  Oa   THK   VKNETIAN   EX1LK« 


^aat,  was  holding  our  senses  and 
passions  in  chains,  in  the  character 
of  lady  Macbeth,  now  scolding  in 
Nell  ;  or  the  weeping  Belvidera 
holding  forth  in  the  vulgarity  of 
Betty  Blackberry.  The  Hibernian 
Burke  has  entertained  us  with  the 
biUlbaiting  of"  Bunker  Hill  ;**  and 
we  forgetthe  name  of  the  youth,who 
played  such  Tom-Thumb-tragedy 
with  the  woes  of  "  'Edwy  and  El- 
giva."  He,  whose  eyes  have  been 
parched  with  the  dry  lines  of  the 
«« Persian  Patriot,"*  will  remember 
them  only  from  annoyance,  and  it9 
dry  author — as 

**  A  mea^e  muse-rid  mope,  adust  and 

thm. 
In  a  dun  night-gown  of  his  own  loose 

skin. 
He  grins,  and  looks  broad  nonsense  with 

a  stare  I" 

But  enough  of  these  « thin  third- 
night"  authors. 

For  so  much  preliminary  matter 
we  have  to  offer,  in  apology,  the 
Ixu'barism  and  ignorance,  under 
which  ti*agedy  labours, on  tlus  side 
the  water. 

Foscari  is  lit  for  criticjsm^  and 
thercfoi'e  holds  the  first  rank  in 
American  drama.  Indeed,  this  is 
something  with  a  beginning,  a  mid- 
dle, and  an  end,  containing  a  ccr- 
t;dn  share  of  dramatick  action,  sen- 
timent, and  ornament  of  language. 

The  fable  runs  thus  :... Foscari, 
son  of  the  Doge  of  Venice,  was 
banished  to  the  island  of  Candia, 
having  been  charged  with  the  mur- 
der of  Count  Donato,  one  of  the 
council,  and  father  of  Almeria,  to 

•  Tl^.crc  is  anotlier  tragedy,  produced 
by  a  Rhode-Island  Poet  ;  we  foi-gct  its 
name,  as  well  as  that  of  the  sublime  au- 
thor. Amongst  its  bright  touches,  are 
tlicse  lines  : 
**One  hundred  pounds  f  in  continental 

MONEY, 

T#  the    man,  vjho  first  shall  scale  yon 
high  v:alh  !  P' 


whom  Foscari  was  betrothed.  Tk 
play  opens  with  Foscari's  retura 
from  a  five  year's  exile,  being  re- 
manded to  Venice,  on  accoont  of 
his  soliciting  relief  from  the  Duke 
of  Milan.  This  being  a  high  of- 
fence against  the  state,  he  is  agao 
arraigned  before  the  council,  and 
banishment  for  life  is  decreed  a- 
gainst  him.  Count  Erizzo,  tb: 
enemy  of  the  family  of  Foscari,  ia 
love  with  Almeria,  persjxutes  hiia 
with  deadly  enmity.  Before  Fov 
cari  departs,  he  obtains  an  inter- 
view with  Almeria,  when  Eriza 
and  his  accomplice,  Policarpo,niii 
on  Almeria  ; '  Foscari  fights  tkm 
in  her  defence,  and.  in  the  stniggk 
Policarpo,  through  mistake,  stabs 
Erizzo.  Erizeo,  in  his  last  ag«i- 
ies,  sends  for  the  Doge,  conftssa 
his  guilt,  and  avows  the  innoceoct 
of  his  son,  and  himself  the  mnr- 
derer  of  Count  Donato.  Troiilf 
turns  Almeria  mad  ;  and  as  s«« 
as  the  Doge  informs  his  wifeVi- 
Icria  of  the  innocence  of  their  sdH 
they  receive  intelligence  of  tb« 
death  of  Foscari,  who  dies  on  bk 
way  to  the  ship,  in  which  he  wa» 
to  embark  for  Candia. 

If  the  rule  of  tragedy  be  tree, 
and  it  comes  from  too  high  author- 
ity to  be  doubted,  that  the  cbancicf 
of  the  poet  is  rather  derived  fcfli 
the  composition  of  the  fable,  than 
the  verse  ;  because  inutauon  con- 
stitutes the  poet,  and  the  &bk  » 
the  imitation  of  an  action,  w. 
White  cannot  hold  the  highest  efc- 
vation.  His  fable  and  his  plot  have 
no  novehy,  and  not  much  intcitst 
As  a  tragedy,  we  hardly  ki»^ 
where  to  look  for  its  peripetia,aiKi 
where  to  feel  for  its  pathos.  Fos- 
cari has  evidently  ng  change  ol 
fortune  whatever,  for  he  is  \^^^ 
misenible  at  his  first  appeaitncc 
as  at  his  last  ;  he  enters  ifl  ha^' 
turn  from  exile  with  a  new  PW«j 
ical  crime,  and  all  his 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


I'OSCAKI,  OR  THt  VENETIAN  SXlLC 


$Qi 


iniscry  is  the  extension  of  his  ban- 
ishment, which  was  the  necessa- 
ry consequence.  The  pathos  Is 
scarcely  perceptible  in  his  hero  ; 
Foscari  suffers  not  enough,  and  his 
dying  off  the  stage  with  only  a 
very  short,  and  rather  a  ridiculous, 
narration  of  his  death,  gives  the 
audience  not  even  a  chance  for 
grief  or  surprise.  The  poet  has 
uot  altogether  forgotten  to  ex- 
cite pity,  though  he  has  neglected 
terrour ;  what  is  wanting  in  the  lat- 
ter, is  amply  made  up  in  the  for- 
mer. The  character  of  Almcria  is 
tender  and  affecting.  Her  frensy 
scene,  though  long,  is  no  where 
disgusting  ;  and  if  that  high- 
wrought  action,  which  ends  in 
niudiicss,  be  not  absolutely  disgust- 
ing, it  must  produce  very  powerful 
sympathy.  Erizzo  is  an  old-fash- 
ioned rascal,and  Policarpo  a  worn- 
out  assassin.  The  character  of  the 
Doge  is  manly  and  dlgniFicd,  and 
through  the  whole  is  very  plainly 
and  thoroughly  dcliuciited.  Some 
of  the  scenes  between  hlra  and 
Foscari  are  hiippy  aVid  afteciiug, 
and  display  the  truth  of  patcnial 
^nd  filial  affecdon. 

EtUer  Doge,  (to  Fosc  cut. 
Do  I  behold  my  lon;]^  lost  son  again  ? 
The  only  prop  of  my  declining  age  ! 
Fos.  O,  let  me  cling  about  thee  !... 
Let  me  kiss 
Those  aged  feet  that  beajr  thee  to  thy 
son. 

f  Embracirg  his  father.  J 

Dcge.  Tills  is  too  much  for  nature  to 
support  ! 
Thou  hast  unman'd  me  !... 
Fos.  My  dearest  falher. 
Do  I  then  hold  tiiee  in  diese  arms  once 

more  ? 
Do  my  lips  press  again  thy  aged  check  I 
Do  I  hear  again  that  dear,  that  tender 

voice  ?  ' 

O  !  speak,  my  Father,...Speak  to  me  ! 

Doge.  My  son. 
My  soul  is   faint  and  overcome   with 

grief;... 
What  can  I  say  of  comfort  t©  my  child  ? 


Fo*.  Do  I  behold  those  eyes  overflow 
with  tears. 

And  find,  unmov'd,  no  moisture  froirf 
my  own  I 

Alas  !  the  tears  that  once  could  over- 
flow. 

And  gush  like  foimtains  from  these 
eyes,  are  now 

Grown  dry,  and  cease  to  spring  at  sor- 
row's call. 
Doge.  Thou  wilt  have  greater  need, 
my  son,  for  tears. 

When  thy  fond  mother's  arms  are  opem 
wide 

To  dasp  thee  to  her  bosom  :  For  trust 
me, 

She  looks  with  tenfold  greater  anxious- 
ness 

Tow'rds  the  approach  of  that  West  mo- 
ment. 

Than  e'er  she  did  towards  thy  natal  day.. 
Fos.  Then  bear  me  to  her  on  th« 
wings  of  speed. 

Let  my  hght  steps  not  touch  the  earth 

Until  i  throw  me  at  my  parent's  feet ! 

Act  111.  p.  25. 

The  verse  of  Mr.  White  is  gen- 
erally harmonious,  though  not  suf- 
ficiently lofty  and  majestick  for 
tragedy.  Some  of  his  lines  have, 
however,  much  firmness. 

See  where  the  ruffian  stalks  along. 

And  mark  how  eagerly  he  pants  for 
blood! 

IVe  listened  oftjnies  to  the  hungry 
wolf, 

IFhen  neighbouring  ca^s  fune  ofinuered 
to  her  crienf 

And  echoing  vsoodi  returned  the  lengthened 
yell  ; 

Still  her  sud  howl  ne'er  seemed  so  ter- 
rible. 

As  the  detested  voice  of  that  fell  villajni 


The  continuity  of  the  dialogue 
is  one  of  the  excellencies  of  the 
trap:edy  before  us  ;  there  arc  n« 
breaks  and  pauses  of  sense  in  its 
parts,  and  no  in  cgularity  of  the 
transition  of  sentiment  in  the  char- 
acters, though  the  rule  of  Aristotle 
is  not  altogether  followed,  as  re- 
^rds  the  cntirenessoCthc  episode,' 
for  many  scenes  miffht  be  taken 
out,  witlwut  being  mibscd. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


ion 


t<J$CAltl,  6%  tft«  tJfcWttlAW  EXXtE. 


The  pioct  Would  have  made  his 
Ycrae  more  various,  if  bis  lines  had 
been  more  frequently  irrsgular. 
The  introductiofi  of  a  redundaiA 
half-foot)  or  the  eleventh  syllable,  is 
often  used  by  the  best  writers. 
Rowe,  whose  language  is  the  mos^ 
perfect  model  of  tragick  versCf 
teems  paniculaply  fond  of  itw 

**  Let  this  au^piciousi  day  be  ever  sacre^i 
Ko  mourning,  no  misfortunes  happen 

on  it  ; 
Let  it  be  marked  for  triumphs  and  re- 
joicings, 
Let  happy  lovers  ever  make  it  holy. 
Choose  it  to  bless  their  hopes,  and 

crowa  their  wishes, 
This  happy  day,  that  gives  me  my  Ca- 
•  lista."  Fair  Penitent: 

And  this  writer,^in  some  instances, 
departs  from  pentameter  directly 
into  hexameter. 

«*  In  watchful  councils  and  in  winter 

camps, 
Had  east  on  his  white  age  to  want  and 

firretchedncM." 

Foscari  has  some  detached  pas- 
sages, which  show  delicacy  and 
considerable  powers  of  description 
in  the  author.  We  regret,  that  we 
are  obliged  to  make  an  offset,  to 
tSicTO.  HoW  doet  the  meagre  and 
beggarly  Muse  limp  through  these 
barren^  passfages. 

£riz.  Truly  my  lord. 
The  unpamlleVd  misfortunes  of  thy  son^ 
Hie  fall'n  honour  of  thy  house,  the  stain 
^  :        that—    . 
*  2)ogc.  Say  not  the  fallen  honour  of  my 

house, 
Vor  Mill  I  trust,  unsullied  stands  my 

name  : 
The  misfortimes  of  my  son,  my  noble 

Lord, 
Will  ne'er  be  made  to  stigmatize  toy 

hous^, 
And  the*  his  honour  may  at  present  be 
Qbscur'd  by  pasting  clouds  of  envy. 

yet 
Will  his  inno lance,  I  trust,  disperse 

tjiem,   ' 


And  leave  hia  naone  tmtaiildi  hftt* 
proach. 
JSW«.  To  pass  five  years  in  e^e,a9d 
under 
Imputation,  foul  as  that  of  mutder, 
Is  a  reproach  not  wip'd  aw'ay  ^th  eaK. 
Ih^.  TrUh',  my  lord,  I  nc*er  should 
seek  thy  aid 
Td  vindicate  my  name,  the*  blacktf 
than  thine  own. 
Sriz.  So  then,  my  lord,  IVe  rous'd 
thy  indignation  ; 
By  hell,  I'm  glad  to  know  thou  hasc 

some  temper... 
I*ve  touch'd  thee  in  a  tender  point,  1 
find— 
Doge.  Hold,  hold...thy  pride  becomci 
offeiisive,...Count, 
Thou  dost  forget  thyself. 

Eriz.  Most  bravely  said... 
Perhaps  Erizzo  may  still  more  ofFead 
When  he  demands  to  be  informed  the 

fate 
Of  lady  Almena- 

Doge.  Yes,  8ignor...ye9... 
Thou  shalt  hear  it,...to  thy  shtmc  ahalt 

hear  it... 
•Twasno  other  than  thyself  who  drwe 

her 
From  the  world....She  hopes  by  cloi^ 

retirement 
To  avoid  thy  cross  solicitations. 

^^  Ac  1  I.  p.  11 

The  madness  of  Almeria,  as  was 
observed  before,  produces  very  for- 
cible sympathy.  Her  frcn&y» 
Hke  OpheKa's,  has  something  m 
it,  which  bewitches  the  fency,  aftd 
so  touches  the  heart,  that  he,  ]»^o 
has  not  felt  his  dry  balls  of  sight 
moistened  for  years,  must « shake 
the  holy  waters  from  his,eycs  m 
the  scene  between  lady  Valeria  and 
Almeria.  We  traiibcribc  it,as  ^ 
warmest  expression  of  praise  lor 
the  poet's  powers  in  tender  and  ex- 
quisite misery. 

Enter  Almeria,  drrst  fantoiticallh  ^' 
hairfioviing  in  xoild  ditoraer. 
Vol.  My  swtet  Alm^ris,  how  ^ 
it  witli  tliec  ?  .      ..i 

Aim.  Good,  my  lady,  this  is  a  d«.^ 

n^rth>  ,     .  It  w. 

Of  great  rejoicingf,  throughout  au 

I  am  glad  to  dAv,  my  heart  has  holida^^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


YktAl  07,  JOURN&TMEK  SROSUAK&H^. 


60d 


6^  i  eeuld  dance  for  joy  !»^ut  do  you 

know 
Ttie  cause  of  all  this  mirth  ?    Youngs 

Foscari, 
They  say  is  to  be  inarried(...0,  no !  he's 

dead!— 
Dead  ?   'tis  impossible  !...No,  no^-jloi 

dead^ 
Tis  only  five  years  since  I  saw  him  laatf 
So  'tis  impossible  he  can  be  dead  ! 
To/.    Sweet  Almeria,    tell  me  the 

cause  of  tliis  ? 
Aim.  Ha  I...I  see  you're  making  pre- 
parations 
Per  the  Wedding  j  look-..I*ve  adom'd 

myself, 
Altho'  some  told  me  'twas  a  funeraL— < 
.    Vol.  Lovely  Almeida !  thou  wilt  dis- 
tract me  ! 
JiTft.  Now,  pray  tell  me,  how  do  yoii 

like  this  hood  ? 
Say,. ..doth  it  Well  become  a  youthful 

bride  ? 
How  gay  you  all  appear  !...They  told 

me  tJiis, 
To  laugh  at  mc  !...Ah  !  poor,  poor,  Al^ 

meria  ! 
She  has  no  one  now  to  love  her  !...No  ! 

No.!— 
But  no  matter....!  will  dance  and  be 

happy— 
Shall  I  dance  for  you,  lady  ?...Nay,  don't 

frown  ! 
No...I'll  sing  a. funeral  dirge...becau9e 
Foscari  is  dead !  No  one  loves  me  now ! 
Ko/.  I  love  thee,  sweet  maid,...most 

dearly  love  thee  : 
tome,  O,  come  my  beloved  to  my  arms ! 
Aim.  Throw  away  that  corpse,  then 

I  will  c«tee  to  thee  : 
-How  can  you  hug  tliat  lifeless  body  so  ? 
See  !  it  is  putrid  !  but  it  is  Poscari's, 
jk)  I  too,  will  clasp  it  to  my  bosom. 
fShe  ru»fi€s  into  Valeria^  arm;  then 
suddenly  bursts  into  a  conj>ulsive  Jit  of 
laughter.  J 

But  I  have  no  cause  to  laugh. ..he's  dead ! 
I  have'Cadse  to  weep,  for  when  he 

implor'd  me 
On  his  knees  to  hear  him,  why  I  did 

laugh.— 
How  merr\'  you  all  appear,  while  1  am 

sacV!— . 
Rejoice  with  me,  lady....t  am  going  to 
.  -         m;MTy. 

t  have  n't  seen  my  intended  husband  yet, 
Tho'  I  shall  not  take  a  grim  lord  to  my 

arms. 
•^I  shudder   at  the    thought....for  his 

touch,  they  say, 
Vul.IlI.No.il.  4E 


Is  very  cold,....'twill  chill  my  blood  with 

horrour  ! 
But  8ee...even  the  Doge  himself  is  meri 

Merry,  because  his  son's  about  to  wed. 
So  I'll  go  <^eck  his  nuptial  bed  with 
flowers.  lExit. 

Act  V.  pp.  45—46. 

It  is  needless  to  say,  after  so 
many  favourable  specimens,  what 
Mi*.  White  is  capable  of  perform- 
ing in  tragedy,  Mith  a  little  eorrec* 
tion^  He,  who  has  done  so  much 
well,  will  probably  do  more  better. 
So  favourable  a  beginning  promises 
a  very  successful  end  ;  and,  by- 
long  and  silent  communion  and 
tneditation  with  the  Muses,  our 
poet  may^  hereafter,  catch  a  smile 
and  a  beck  from  Melpomene  to  a 
deal  in  their  temple^ 

ART.  64. 
the  trial  of  the  Journeymen  Jiooi 
and  Shoemakert  qf  Fhiladelfihiof 
on  an  indictment  for  a  combina* 
tion  and  contpiracy  to  raiae  their 
nvagea.  Taken  in  short  hand^  by 
Thomaa  Lloyd.  iPhiladelphiaf 
B.  Craye84     \U06.  fi/i.  159< 

TitK  cities  of  the  United  States 
flourish  ahd  rapidly  increase  in 
population,  wealth,  arts,  and  com^ 
merce.  With  these  it  is  reason-* 
able  to  expect  an  influx  of  their 
concomitant  vices  and  inconteni<» 
ences.  Regular  government  and 
strict  Internal  police  are  necessary 
to  preserve  order  and  ad^.linistc^ 
justice,  where  the  business  and 
concerns  of  man  are  so  multipH^ 
ed  and  complicated.  Cain  is  tho 
occupation  of  all  $  and  the  powers 
ful  love  of  lucre,  like  the  principle 
of  gravitation,  impels  to  action^ 
even  stocks  and  stones.  ■Co<K)pera'* 
tion  and  concert  are  so  useful  to  a 
multitude,  pursuing  a  common 
end,  that  wefrequently  find  brethf 
ren  of  the  same  craft  constilut- 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


$to 


VOVTRLT   CATALOeCB. 


ibg  communities.  ena(icdDg  by-laws, 
aad  sanrtinning  then^^y  the  sefqre 
penalties  of  ignonuny  a»d  ruin  to 
the  diiobedient.  These  associa- 
tions frequently  contravene  the 
lights  and  are  very  Vexatioos  to 
other  classes  of  citizens.  Ruth' 
mHfrtfh'ui  Hist«  Coll.  recocds  the 
Speech  of  a  member  of  parlia-' 
xnent  on  this  subject.  ^  It  is  a 
nest  of  wasps,  or  swarm  of  vtr« 
miov  that  hav«  overcrept  Che  land. 
These,  like  the  frogs  of  Egypt, 
bave  gotten  possession  of  our 
dwellings,  and  we  have  scarce  a 
toom  free  from  them.  They  sup 
In  our  cup.  They  dip  in  our 
dish.  They  sit  by  our  fire.  We 
find  them  in  the  dye-fisO,  wash- 
bowl, and  powdering-tub.  They 
liave  maflLcd,  and  scaled  us  from 
^ead  to  foot.  We  may  not  buy 
our  own  cloathes,  without  their 
brokage:  These  are  the  suckersf 
that  have  suckt  the  common* 
wealth  so  hard,,that  it  is  almost  be- 
come hectical.  They  have  a  vizard 
to  hide  the  brand  ;  they  make  by- 
laws, which  serve  their  turn  to 
squeeze  us  and  fiH  their  purses." 
These  combinations  are  certain- 
ly injurious,  and  wise  policy  dic- 
tates that  they  should  be  repressed* 
By  them  all  the  members  are 
placed  on  equality,  and  consequent- 
ly ingenuity,  skill,  and  diligence 
arc  deprived  of  their  reward. 
The  ignorant  and  indolent,  who 
compose  the  majority  of  every 


class,  natiu'ally  advocate  measnf^^ 
which  ekrvit^  them,  and  depress 
their  superiours.  Unfortunately 
6ur  legtslatofo  has  not  looked 
with  an  indu^ent  eye  on  aH  appti- 
cations  for  tncdrporalions,  and  \%sg% 
strengthened  bonds,  naturally  toa 
strong  to  be  severed  by  the  sword 
of  justict. 

This  pamphlet  contains  the 
report  of  the  trial  of  joumcf  men 
boot  and  shoe-makers  for  a  coos: 
binatios  against  their  masters. 
The  indictment  agaimt  them  coo* 
tains  two  counts — Isl,  for  contrtr- 
ing  and  intending,  unjustly,  and 
oppressively,  to  increase  an^  aug- 
ment the  wages  usually  sDovei 
them.  The  other  for  endeavour- 
ing to  prevent,by  threats,  ncoacesi 
and  other  unlawful  means,  other 
journeymen  from  working  at  the 
usual  prices,  and  that  they  com- 
pelled others  to  join  them.  This 
cause,  it  appears,  coimderably  agi-^ 
tated  the  body  of  tradesmen  in  the 
city.  There  were  retained  in  the 
prosecution  and  defence  of  the  ac- 
tion some  of  the  most  able  and 
eminent  counsellors  of  thaft  city^ 
whose  forum  Is  throned  by  honourr 
able,  eloquent,  and  learned  lawyers. 
After  a  solemn  discussion  of  the 
question  the  Defendants  were  coft^- 
vkted  and  punished. 

In  the  correctness  of  the  deci* 
sion  all  sound  lawyers,  and  all  ^ho 
wish  for  internal  p«ace  and  indus- 
try, will  acquiesce. 


MONTHLY   CATALOGUE 

Or  Nsw  PusLicATioics  IN  THE  United  Statbs  tor  NovEMBcm. 


Soot  bona,  fime  qngdim  mcdIocrU,  font  nul*  flDn.««MAaT. 


NEW  WORKS. 

i 

•  A  new,  plain,  and  lysteinatick  com- 
pcndtum  of  |irsctical  Artthmetick^  a- 
BApt«d  to  the  commerce  of  the  United 
States;— with  a  Key,  constructed  as 
TeUtir^  Key  to  Goo^b's  Atithmetick. 


By  Alexander  Watt     Philadelphia,  fcr 
the  author. 

The  Complete  Jufdcc  of  the  Pcac^ 
containing  extracts  from  Bom's  Justice, 
and  other  judiciary  productions.  TiSt 
whole  altered  and  made  confbrmablettf 
t^  laws  and  maoDCfa  of  admittistcrin^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


HeKTBlT  eATALOOUE. 


6U 


J^ice,  ptrtkularl J  in  ^filate  of  Ncw- 
Hampsliire,  and  generally  in  the  otiicr 
.United  States — Comprising  the  prac* 
tJce,  authority^  and  duty  df  justices  of 
4hei>eace,  with  forma  and*  precedents 
.^relating  hereto.  By  a  Gentleman  of 
the  Profession.      Large  8vo.    pp.  431. 

f2,$Q.    <:.  Peirce,  Portsraoutji,  and  S. 
.  ragg*  j^-  Povcr. 

The  American  Builder!!  Companloi), 
or  a  new  system  of  Arghitectarc  ;  par- 
ticularly adapted  to  the  present  style  of 
building  in  the  United  States:— Contain- 
ing forty-four  engravings,  represent;lng^ 
'geometrical  lines ;  twenty  different  dcr 
signs  for  mouldings  ;  the  five  orders  of 
architecture,  with  great  alt*rations,both 
In  size  and  expense  ;  glueing  up  and 
diminishing  of  coluqans  ;  how  to  find 
the  different  brackets  of  a  ground  ceil- 
ing ;  base  and  surbase  mouldings,  ar- 
chitraves, &c.  ;  twen(;}-four  ditiercnt 
desi^^  for  cornices,  both  for  extemid 
and  internal  finislung  ;  stone  window 
caps  and  sills,  showing  the  manner  of 
letting  them  in  a  Ijrick  wall  ;  sash 
frames,  sashes,  and  shutters  ;  ^sught 
^and  circular  5tairs  ;  roofs,  and  finding 
^he  length  and  backing  of  hips,  eitlier 
square  or  bevel ;  ornamental  capitals^ 
mouldingfs,  fritzes,  leaves,  and  ceilings ; 
cjliimney  pieces  ;  frontispieces  ;  urns, 
banisters,  key  stones,  &c.  {  plans  and 
lelevations  of  three  houses  foriown,  and 
ttwo  for  country  ;  plans  and  elevatipns 
for  two  meeting-houses ;  plan  and  .ele- 
vation for  a  summer-hou^e  ;  plan  and 
.elevation  for  acourt-hou^;  plan,^  eleva- 
tion, and  section  of  the  Branch  bank  pf 
Boston — with  particular  directions  for 
executing  all  the  above  designs.  By 
Asher  Benjamin,  architect  and  carpen- 
ter, and  ^aniel  Raynerd,  architect  and 
•tucco  worker.  4to.  pp.  70.  letter  press. 
Boston,  Etheridge  &  Bliss. 
^  Christianity  Displayed,  or  a  rational 
view  of  the  great  scripture  doctrine  of 
Redemption  and  Salvation,  through  Je- 
siw  Christr-rtpgether  with  »ome  prac- 
tical obsecvations.  By  a  Citizen  of 
Baltimore,    ^vo.  25  cents. 

An  Inquir}'  into  the  present  state  of 
<he  foreign  relations  of  the  Union,  as 
affected  hy  the  late  me  sure  s  of  the  Ad- 
ministration. Price  87a  cents.  New- 
York,  Brishan  &  Brannan. 

A  Medical  P"is;r>tirsc,  on  sev«»ral 
Karcotic  VcgpetnbU-  Substances,  read 
iaiefore  the  Massnchusetts  Medical 
Society,  at  their- annu.il  ineetinjc,  June 
4th,  1806.  By  Joshua  Fislier,  M.  D. 
ffiffipi^,  Joshua  Cushing. 


A  Vindication  of  the  doctrine  advo« 
tatod  by  John  Randolph,  Esq.  member 
of  the  House  of  Representatives  of  the 
United  States.  ByEpaminondaa.  Pric« 
37 i  cents,'  N.  York,  Brisban  &  Brannan. 

*lhe  Acts  of  Incorporation, together 
with  the  Bye*  Laws  Mid  orders  of  the 
Massachusetts  Medical  Society.  Sai* 
lem,  Joshua  Cushing. 

On  the  Advantages  of  Publick  Wor- 
fihip,  a  sermon.  By  Willi^mi  Hollings- 
faead,  D-  D.  one  of  the  Ministers  o^ 
tlie  Independent  or  Congregational 
Church,  in  -Charleston,  S.  Carolina. 
Prcaclied  June,  3,  J794,  at  the  openinf 
of  the  newly  rebuilt  house  of  woraiiip 
of  tlie  ^Independent  or  Congregational 
Church,  at  Dorchester.  Charlestons 
Markland,  M'lyer,  &  Co. 

Two  Discourses,  delivered  m  the 
North  Meeting-house  in  Portsmouth^ 
16th  June,  1804f,  it  being  the  Sabbath 
succeeding  tlie  interment  of  Mri. 
Maiy  Buckminster,  consort  of  the 
Rev.  Joseph  Buckminster,  D.  D.  By 
Josse  Appleton,  Congregational  Min;* 
ister  in  Hampton.  W.  &  D.  Tread^ 
.^velL    JPortsmouth-  » 

Charity  recommended  firom  the  So- 
cial State  of  Man.  A  discourse,  deliv- 
ered before  the  Salem  Female  Charita- 
ble Society,  September  .17,  ,1806.  By 
Rev.  John  Prince,  LL.®.  .SvQ.  pp.  39. 
Salem,  Joshua  dishing. 

A  Seitnon,  delivehed  before  the 
Hampshire  Missionary  Society,  # 
their  annual  meeting  at  JQ^orthampton^ 
August  28,  1806.  By  Jonathan  t^ 
Pomeroy,  of  Worthington.  ^Nqrth- 
ampton,'  William  Butler. 

A  I>isco^r8e,  delivered  at  Stillwate^ 
before  the  members  of  Montgomery 
Lodge,  August  12,  1806.  By  David 
Butler,  Rector  of  St.  PaiU's  Church, 
Ti-oy,  and  of  Trinitv  Church,  Lansing- 
burgh.  8vo.  pp.  24.  Troy,  N.Y.  Wright, 
Goodcnow,  &  Stockwell. 

A  Sermon,  delivered  at  Hartford,  at 
tlie  funeral  of  Jolm  M'Curdy  Strong 
son  of  the  Rev.  Nathan  Strong,  D.  D^ 
wlio  was  drowned  in  Connecticut  river, 
on  the  evening  of  Sept.  16.  By  Abel 
Flint     Hartford,  Lincoln  Ic  Gleoson.- 

A  Sermon,  preached  to  the  United 
Independent  or  Congregational  Church 
of  Dorchester  ;tnd  Beach-Hill,  (S.  C) 
at  the  ordination  of  tl»c  Rev.  James 
Adams,  to  Uie  pastoral  charge  of  said 
cliurcb.  By  the  Rev.  Daniel  M'Callg^ 
A.  M.     Charleston,  W.  P.  Harrison. 

The  Piscataqua  Evangelical  Mag<» 
rfnu^  Vol  U.  Nit  V,   §»  ScfUintim 


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€\^ 


iioiCTHLT  '^'tTKLOOVZ. 


^d    October,   1806, 
Joseph  Cusliing. 


8vo.    Amherit, 


NEW  EDITIONS. 

The  Stranger  in  Ireland  :  or,  a  tour 
in  the  southern  and  western  parts  of 
that  coimtF)',  in  the  year  of  1805.  By 
John  Carr,  author  of  "  a  NorthemSum- 
mer,"  "  the  Stranger  in  France,"  &c. 
Svo.  pp.339.  Philadelplua,T.  &  G.  Pjd- 
mcr  for  S.  F.  Bradford,  &c. 

Vol.  11.  Part  II.  of  The  New  Cyck>- 
pxdia,  or  Dictionary  of  Arts  and  Scien- 
ces. By  Abraham  Rees,  D.  D.,  F.R.S., 
4to.  Price  to  new  subscribers,  g3,50. 
Philadelphia,  S.  F.  Bradford.  Lemuel 
Bkke,  No.  1,  Comliill,  agent  in  Bostoi). 

The  2d  volume  of  Original  Anecdotes 
of  Frederick  the  Great,  king  of  Prussij^ 
8vo.  2  vols.  £4  boards.  Philadelphia, 
£.  Bronson. 

Nature  Displayed  in  her  mode  of 
teaching  language  to  man  :  or,  a  new 
^id  infallible  method  of  acquiring  a 
lang^ge,  in  the  shortest  time  pqssible, 
deduced  from  the  analysis  of  the  lu|- 
.HMm  mind,  and  consequently  suited  to 
jevery  capacity.  Adapted  to  the  French. 
.By  N.  G.  DuUef,  of  PhiUdelphia. 
.  Second  edition,  with  considerable  ad- 
.ditions  and  corrections.  Vol.  I.  con- 
taining the  conversation  phrases  and  Ip 
lecteur  Fran^ais,  premiere  partie.  Phi- 
.ladelphia,  John  Watts.     Svo.  pp.460. 

A  Compendium  of  the  Anatomy, 
.I'hysiology,  and  Pathology  of  tlie  Horse. 
3cing  a  clear  f^id  familiar  description 
of  Uic  various  organs  and  parts,  to- 

fpether  with  their  ftmctions,  of  that  use- 
ul  and  beautiful  animal.     And   also, 
comprising  a  view  of  the  diseases  and 

.injuries,  with  tlicir  symptoms  and  mode 
of  cure,  to  which  the  several  parts  ar* 

Jiable.  Together  with  a  concise  ex- 
amination of  the  economy  and  structure 

.  of  the  foot    By  B.  W.  Burke,    gl,  50. 

,3Philadclphia,  James  Humphreys. 

The  fifth  edition  of  The  American 
Coast  Pilot,  in  which  large  improve- 
ments are  made.  Svo.  Newbur^port, 
Edmmid  M.  Blunt 

The  Death  of  Legal  Hope,  and  the 
Life  of  Evangelical  Obedience.  An 
essay  on  Gal.  ii.  19.  Shewing  that  while 
A  sinner  is  in  the  law,  as  a  covenant,  he 

.cannot  live  to  Qod  in  the  performance 
of  duty  :  and  thai  the  moral  law  is  Im- 
putable in  its  nature,  and  of  perpetual 
use,  as  the  rule  of  a  believer's  conduct 

'By  Abrajiam  Booth..  12mq.  pp.  ^. 
fiu$ion,  Manning  &  Loriiig. 


Scott's  Family  Bible,  vols.  I,  tl,  «nd 
III.  Price  to  subscribers  gS  per  toI 
Philadelphia,  W.  W.  Woodward. 
These  vols,  complete  the  Old  Testa- 
ment The  fourth  and  last,  which  coo- 
tains  the  New  Testament,  will  he  fin- 
ished in  the  spring. 

The  Quid  Mirror,  1st  part.  'Witfc 
an  explanatory  note.  Price  SO  ctrntt- 
Philadelphia. 

IN  THE  PRESS. 

Cooke's  Elements  of  Drainatick  Crit^ 
icism,  and  instructions  for  succeedii^ 
in  the  art  of  acting  ;  with  anecdotes  ca 
eminent  performers.  Interspersed  with 
remarks.  By  Sidney  MeUnoth,  Esq. 
Singula  quxque  locum  teneat  scwtita 
decentera.     Philadelphia,  John  Watts. 

An  Abridgment  of  the  History  of 
New-England,  designed  for  the  use  tk 
young  persons.  By  ^annah  Ad&ms. 
12mo.  Boston,  Belcher  &  Armstrong. 

Life  of  Qumberland,  written  hy  him- 
self 12ma  Boston,  D.  Carlisle,  for 
D.  West,  &c. 

RolUn's  Ancient  Histoiy,  illustrated 
witli  useful  maps.  Boston,  £tfaeric%ip 
&  Bliss.  Svols.  8vo.  Price  g2  per 
vol.  in  boards. 

The  New  American  Practical  Nar- 
igator.  To  be  published  in  ITeb.  IdQT. 
Newburj-port,  ^dmund  M.  Blunt 

PROPOSED  BY   SUBSCRIPTION. 

A  Theological  DicUonaiy,  contaxmng 
definitions  of  all  reliffious  terms  ;  a 
comprehensive  view  of  every  article  ip 
the  systepfi  of  divinity  i  an  impartial 
account  of  all  the  principal  denomina- 
tions, which  have  subsisted  in  the  re- 
ligious world,  (rom  the  birth  of  Christ 
to  the  present  day  ;  together  with  an 
accurate  statement  of  the  most  remari^ 
able  transactions  and  events  recorded 
in  ecclesiastical  history.  By  Charles 
Buce.    Philadelphia,  W  .W. Woodvrard. 

Six  Sermons  on  the  following  sub- 
jects >  1.  On  the  love  of  God  to  his 
creatures.  3.  The  Christian's  e^4dencf 
of  his  having  passed  from  death  to  life. 
3.  The  finite  nature  of  ^ings  which 
are  seen,  and  the  eternal  nature  of 
things  unseen.  4.  The  momentary  na- 
ture of  the  good  and  evil  of  this  world. 
5.  God's  love  to  Zion.  6.  The  Lamb 
of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of 
the  world.  By  Rev.  Walter  Femes, 
late  pastor  of  the  Universalian  ckurdi 
in  Charlotte,  Ver,  pp,  120.  Price  42  ctk. 


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6J8 


Compiled  by  Rev.  Hosea  BaUmi,  of 
Bftmiu*d^  Randolph,  Ver.  S.  Wright 
'The  Improvement  of  tlie  mind.  Con- 
taining a  variety  of  remarks,  and  rules 
for  the  attaining  and  enmnmnication  of 
useful  knowledge  in  religion,  in  the 
sciences,  and  in  common  life.  By  I. 
Watts,  p.  D.  The  book  to  contain 
384  pages  12mo.  on  fine  paper  and  sAiall 
type.  Price  to  subscribers  gl  ])cr  vol. 
bouncL  Bennington,  Ver.  A.  Haswell. 
Now  ready  for  the  press,  and  will  be 
published  immediately  after  the  next 
session*  of  the  general  assembly  of  Vir- 

finia.  Volume  2d  of  the  Revised  Code ; 
y  a  gentleman  of  tlie  bar.  Large  8vo. 
Price  g5  to  subscribers.  Richmond, 
Vir.  Samuel  Pleasants,  jun. 


A  complete  system  of  Gcnography; 
ancient  and  modem,  in  6  volumes  8vo. 
py  James  Playfair*  D-  D.  Principal  oT 
the  United  College  of  St  Andrew's  ; 
Historiographer  to  his  Royal  Highness 
tlie  Prince  of  Wa|c«  i  F.R.S.  F.  A.S. 
Edinburgh  i  and  author  of  ♦'  A  System 
of  Chronology."  Philadelphia,  J .  Watts. 

The  Lay  of  tlie  Last  Minstrel,  a 
poem,  by  Walter  Scott,  Esq,  12mo. 
Boston,  Etheridge  &  Bliss. 

Collins,  Perkins,  &  Co.  of  New-York 
propose  to  put  immecUately  to  press,  k 
new  and  valuable  woric,  entitled,  French 
JJoTnonjtfJu,  or  a  collection  of  words, 
similar  in  sound,  but  different  in  mean- 
ing or  spelling.  By  John  Martin,  i»o- 
fessoi*  of  languages  in  New-YoriL 


IJ\rT£LLIGEJ\rCE. 


America. 

A  number  of  persons,  residing  in  the 
western  part  of  the  state  of  New- York, 
of  whom  several  are  represented  as 
learned  and  opulent  foreigners,  natural- 
ized here,  have  formed  themselves  into 
a  church,  or  religious  association,  upon 
principles  whi^h  exclude  polenuck 
questions  and  sectarian  peculiarities. 
They  disclaim  human  formularies  of 
faith,  as  tests  of  christian  commimion, 
referring  their  xi>embers  to  the  scrip- 
tures as  the  only  rule  of  belief  and  prac- 
tice ;  and  they  appear  to  think  the  lib- 
erty of  religious  inquiry  and  profession, 
unrestrained  by  the  fear  of  temporal 
inconvenierfce,  compatible  vrith  the  in- 
terests of  truth  and  virtue.  Under  tlie 
su^pices  of  this  description  of  persons, 
a  society  for  prom6ting  christian  knowl- 
edge and  practice  is  instituted,  who 
have  endeavoured  to  call  the  attention 
pf  the  enlightened  and  scriotis  publick 
to  the  objects  of  their  association  by  the 
following  publication. 

At  a  meeting  on  September  20,1806, 
oFthe  Society  for  promoting  the  knaviled^ 
of  the  Sacred  Scriptures  and  the  practice 
if  the  Gospel  Uoctriney  Resolved  to  make 
Gie  following  publication  : — 

The  members  of  the  Society  for  pror 
rttoting  the  knorjjledge  of  the  Sacred  Scrip- 
tures and  the  practice  of  the  Gospel  Doc- 
trine, informed  by  extracts,*  lately  pub- 
lished from  the  minutes  of  the  Gc^erc^l 
Synod  of  the  Ptformed  Dutch  Churches 
in  tliis  state,  of  the  laudable  endeavour^ 
of  that  High  Reverend  Body,  to  pro- 
mote Uxc  interest  of  the  Redeemer's 
Kingdi>m,  think  it  becoming  their  cha- 
Tacler  and  cliri:stian  profcssio^^  to  co- 


operate  with  these  endeavours,  accord- 
ing to  their  ability,  and  in  view  of 
the  situation  allotted  them  by  Divine. 
Providence.  The  limited  circum- 
stances of  the  people  of  these  west- 
cm  parts  do  not  enable  them  at  pre'- 
sent,  to  aflbrd  pecuniary  aid  to  their 
more  wealthy  brethren  in  the  mercan- 
tile cities,  for  the  particular  purpose 
specified  in  the  printed  extracts  ot  the 
General  Synod.  On  the  contrary, 
from  the  known  generosity  and  afflu- 
ence of  our  brethren,  we  mig^t  hope 
for  pecuniar}'  assistance  from  them, 
were  they  duly  apprised  of  the  varieiift 
and  increasing  enemies  of  our  Lord  by 
whom  wc  arc  surrounded.  Notwith- 
8tai\cling  the  eminent  blessings  of  a 
spiritual  natiu*e  enjoyed  at  tlie  hand  of 
a  merciful  providence,  our  situation  is 
rendered  truly  disagreeable  by  a  grow- 
ing  fanaticism  and  enthusiasm  which 
dcgratlc  the  pure  and  excellent  faith  of 
our  divine  Master,  and  by  a  demoraliz- 
ing infidehty,  ifhich,  while  it  success- 
fully triumphs  ag^nst the  absurd  inven- 
tions of  men,  sacrilegiously  attached  to 
tlie  religion  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  pixnid- 
ly  boasts  ofvictory  over  Christianity  hei*- 
self  Having  deliberated  on  the  radical 
causes  of  tlie  prevailing  evil  and  can- 
didly dicusscd  the  subject  among  our- 
selves, wc  are  apprehensive  that  a 
fihaiTieftU  ignorance,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  a  disposition  for  licentiousness  on 
thf.  n^licr,  combine  to  give  it  birth,  an^ 
that  its  only  remedy  hes  in  the  diffu- 
tiion  of  religious  knowledge,  and  in  a 
more  exemplary  deportment  among  the 
professed  friends  <  f  the  christijin  catw f . 
A\i  are,  however,  ©f  the  diftculty  ef 


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ii4 


l^ltMART  IlfT£LLI#5iKCE« 


compriflin^  in  a  single  view  the  Tariout 
causes,  direct  and  remote,  which  con-* 
tribute  to  t^e  sad  phenomenon  :  at  the 
•ame  time  sensible,  that  the  true  cause* 
must  be  apparent  before  our  exertions 
to  remove  it  can  be  directed  in  such  a 
jDianner  as  to  furnish  a  well  ^ounde^l 
liope  of  .rficcess,  the  Society  propose  to 
tlieir  enlightened  christian  brethren  the 
iiiloyin^  questions  ;  upon  which  tli« 
answers  are  expected  before  the  first 
day  of  Dccc^iber,  1B07,  in  a  fair  le^ble 
fiand,  copied  by  another,  with  a  Symlfo- 
lutnt  as  u$ual«  the  author*s  name  writ^ 
ten  in  a  separate*  sealed  paper,  super- 
scribed with  the  symbolum  of  his  dis- 
aertation,  and  forwarded  with  the  dis- 
serUUpn,  fnCtC  pf  postage,  to  the  Rev. 
John  Sherman,  Secretai^  oT  the  Society. 

I.  What  are  the  principal  causes  of 
the  increasing  fanaticism,  entliusiasm, 
and  infideUty  within  the  hn^ts  of  the 
Middle  and  Eastern  States  ? 

II.  What  are  the  most  potent  remcr 
dies  for  these  moral  diseases  .? 

III.  In  what  manner  may  these  reme- 
dies be  the  ipost  successfully  applied  ? 

The  crowned  dissertation  jupon  these 
s^uestions  shall  bp  published,  and  the  au- 
thor shall  receive  a  premium  of  fifty 
^o  LK.  AAS.  The  second  shall  be  noticed 
with  an  accessft' 

Members  of  the  Society,  who  write 
jupon  the  subject,  shall  sign^heirdissier- 
tations  with  their  prop#r  names,  with- 
out being  candidates  tor  the  prize. 

The  Society  also  propose  the  follow- 
ing questions  for  1808,  "  IVhat  xkgr^ 
i^kno^ledge  in  Oriental  and  Greek  liter  a- 
tire,  ye^ish  afitiquities,and  Ecdcsiaxtical 
History^  it  requisite  to  qualify  a  Tniniitcr 
?/^^'^  ^o^/  to  tilence  the  cavils,  and  tue- 
ctssfidly  to  refute  the  objection*  of  ancient 
and  inodern  inJlJelt,  agaimt  the  ^evoith 
and  christian  revelationt  ?** 

The  Society  for  pnnnoting  htov>M^fi^ 
jLJ'j.  appeal  to  the  hearts  of  their  chr^s- 
iian  brctlircn  of  all  denominations,  to 
^oHjperate  with  them  in  the  important 
(Cause. 

Each  member  of  the  society  paj's  two 
dollars  at  his  admission,  and  one  dollar 
annually,  so  long  as  he  continues  to  be 
H  member. 

Donations  in  money  for  the  general 
purposes  of  tlie  society,  or  in  useful 
books  and  tracts,  particularly  Bihles,  to 
lie  distribu^d  amoog  the  poorer  classes, 
will  l*e  thankfully  received. 

The  money  to  be  transmitted  to  CoL 
A.  G.  Mippa,  treasurer,  and  the  books 
.(fase  uf  expcutfc)  to  th«:  H«v.  Jolui  Sh^- 


9ian^  ndrasttf  <of  the  Relbnned  Ckra» 
tian  Church,  both  residiBg  in  TrtssU^ 
county  of  Oaeida,and  state  of  M.  Tcrk. 

A  statement  of  the  concerns  of  dbt 
society  shall  awiuaily  .be  x&ftde  al  tbdt 
general  meeting. 

Signed  by  onler  of  the  Sode^, 

JOHN  SUERMAK,  S<m^. 

The  Reformed  ChriMtiam  Oam^  m 
association  with  the  members  of  fW 
United  Protestant  Relinoos  Socic^  is 
the  town  of  Trenton,  Oneida  oountr, 
and  state  of  Nei^-York,  informed  of  tii| 
laudable  exertions  of  the  ^^Generai  Syad 
of  the  Reformed  Dutch  Church^  to  cmdi- 
hsh  a  **ProfeMorate/*  for  the  porposeof 
obtaining  a  more  learned  ministry;  soi 
thus  to  promote  a  conect  anhd  gmnl 
knowled^  of  the  sacred  scripcurrs, 
have  (tnough  unable  to  contribute  t» 
this  laudab]^  undertaking  of  the  Genml 
Synod)  unanimously  resolved,  in  virv 
pf  their  own  situation,  to  co-operat*  » 
far  .in  the  general  object  of  diffiuisf 
christian  knowledge,  as  to  ^ake  a  col- 
lection twelve  tixnes  a  y^ar,  (viz.  niof 
times  at  Oldenbame^eld,  and  thres 
times  at  Holland's  Patent,  begimaif 
with  tlie  first  Sunday  in  Octobei)  ft* 
the  following  religious  purposes  : 

Resolved  1st  That  one  hal/  of  tlw 
money  collected,  shall  be  entrust^  is 
tlie  Rev.  John  Sherman,  our  roinista^ 
for  the  purchase  of  books  and  trsdi, 
>vrittcn  to  promote  the  knowledge  of 
t)ie  christian  doctrine,  who  ahall  cirai* 
late  them  among  the  members  of  tiia 
cKiuxh  and  society,  and  «upply  vkk 
bibles  those  of  them  whoae  low  drr 
jcumstan<;es  may  require  this  aid 

ftesolved2d.  That  the  other  hslfflf 
the  i^oney  c<^ected  sliall  be  placed  ia 
ihe  hands  of  the  Treasurer  ot  The  S^ 
ciety  for  pronioting  the  kncmiee^  tf  tkt 
Sacred  Scrijttitrety  to  be  disposed  w  by 
said  society  in  aid  of  the  beoertdeat 
purposes  of  their  institution. 

Resolved  5d.  That  the  R^v.  J?fcB 
Sherman  shal)  be  qualified  to  open  i 
comispondence  ]»ath,  and  to  reccift 
applications  from  any  churches  or  re- 
ligious societies,'  for  the  purpose  of 
uniting  and  coroperatlng  upoo  aznors 
extensive  scale  in  promoting  the  chris- 
tian cauve  ;  proidded  he  do  not  oUigite 
the  church  or  society  in  any  manner 
whatsoever,  without  their  previous  ooo: 
sent  or  approbation. 

Resolved  4th.  That,  as  the  Peligtm 
Protestant  United  Society,  and  TV  ^ 
formed  Christian  Chwrh ,  are  cnnstittttei 
by  persoDi  of  difie^cot  dfiiginina|jtt||^ 


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LITKRAET   Al^D  l^tflLOSOfHlCUl   IKTtLLlOSVet. 


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f^e  DiefAbcrt  6f  the  chui^h,  in  order 
t hut  the  pttblick  may  be  acquainted  with 
their  religious  standing,  deem  it  be- 
coming to  publish  the  articles  of  their 
union. 

Jr tides  of  union  qf  the  member*  of  the 
Reformed  Chrittian  Church. 

I.  We  acknowledge  the  Scriptures 
6f  the  Old  and  New  Testament  to  con- 
tain a  revelation  of  God's  will  to  man- 
kind, and  that  they  are  in  matters  of 
religion,  the  only  sUuvdard  of  doctrines 
and  rules  of  practice. 

II.  We  acknowledge  that  no  other 
confession  or  test  of  christian  iellow- 
ihip  and  standing  in  the  risible  church 
Cf  God  ought  to  be  established  than 
that  wliich  Cluist  and  his  aposUcs  made 
necessary,  or  on  which  tliey  received 
believers'" in  the  gospel— Mat.  xri.  15, 
16,  and  17.  Acts  viii.  36  and  37.  1  John 
iv.  15,  and  1  John  v.  1. 

•  III.  Liberty  of  conscience  shall  be 
preserved  inviolate.  Every  member 
shall  be  maintained  in  his  right  of  free 
hKiuiry  into  the  doctrines  of  scripture ; 
in  publisMng  what  he  believes  the 
scriptures  contain,  and  in  practising 
ftCGording  to  his  imder8tan<Ung  of  bis 
duty.  This  liberty  shall  not  be  abridg. 
fdt  as  to  his  understanding  and  practice 
respecting  the  ceremonies,  ordinanccsy 
or  positive  institutions  of  christianit}'. 

IV.  The  government  and  discipline 
shall  .be  according  to  the  direction  of 
bur  Lord  in  Mat  xvii.  15,  16,  and  17. 
The  executive  authority  of  the  church 
shall  be  vested  in  the  minister,  the  el- 
ders and  deacons  ;  but  if  any  one  sup- 
pose that  by  the  church  there  mention* 
ed,  is  intended  the  brotherhood  gener- 
ally, he  shall  have  the  liberty  of  refer- ' 
•rin^  his  cause  for  adjudication  to  tlie 
body  at  large. 

V.  Tlie  officers  of  the  chnrch,  elders 
and  deaconsj  shall  be  chosen  by  ballot, 
and  hold  their  office  during  the  pleasure 
6f 'the  church,  or  choose  to  decline 
serving  any  longer. 

.  VI.  The  mode  of  admission  to  the 
churr^shall  be,  tliat  any  person  wish* 
ingto  become  a  member,  shall  muke 
known  his  desire  to  the  consistory,  the 
minister,  elders,  and  deacons,  wIiosUhU, 
if  the  applicant  be  a  person  of  good 
moral  character,  refer  his  case  for  deci- 
sion to  the  church  at  large. 

VII.  The  Lord's  Supper  shall  be 
celebrated  four  times  a  year,  twice  at 
Oldcnbamcveld,  and  twice  ifn  Holland's 
Patent,  on  such  particular  Lord's  days 
u  shall  be  found  coiireiue»c 


VIII.  The  name\)y  which  this  church 
is  designated  shall  be,  The  Kefotmed 
Christian  Church. 

By  order  of  the  meeting, 
JOHN  SHERMAN,  Moderator. 

We  are  informed  that  Mr.  John  ^ 
WatU,  of  Philadelphia,  is  about  to  pu|  ] 
to  press  a  new  and  valuable  Work  enti.* ' 
Ued  the  "  Stranger  in  England."  It  ia  ' 
said  to  contain  a  more  satisfactory  and 
particular  account  of  Great  Britain,  tham 
any  work  which  has  hitherto  appeared. 
In  it  the  character  and  manners  of  thm 
English,  Irish,  and  Scotch  are  depicted 
in  a  style  which  marks  the  hatul  of  s 
master  and  the  judgment  of  a  connob- 
sieur.  Rich  with  anecdote  and  critical 
remark,  it  presents  not  only  a  veriublo 
picture  of  the  present  state  of  that 
countr}',  in  its  moral  and  political  rtUn-' 
tions,  of  which  so  little  is  at  present 
known,  notwithsttoding  our  constant 
intercourse  with  it,  but  also  exhibits 
a  novel  and  highly  interesting  scene  to 
the  view  of  the  traveller  and  tlie  scholar. 
To  this  country  such  a  work  is  invalua- 
ble, and  we  announce  it  with  a  full 
confidence  that  it  will  prove  in  no  small 
degree  gratifying  to  crcry  clabs  <^* 
readers.— U.  S.  Gaz. 

Letters  of  Lord  Lyttieton.^^The  sub- 
scribers intend  to  commit  to  press,  ui  a 
few  weeks,  tlie  first  American  edition 
of  tlie  "  Letters  of  Lord  LrtUcton  tb« 
Younfer."  Conditions  will  soon  b« 
publishc<l,  and  subscription^pnpera  pre* 
sented  to  the  lovers  of  fine  writing. 

Wright,  GooiiEsow,  &  Co. 

Tro^,  N.  2:  Oct.  1806. 

The  public^k  will  we  gratified  to  liesp 
that  a  small  volume  of  poems,  writtei* 
by  Charloltte  Richardson,  with  whose 
interesting  life  we  have  been  acquaint- 
ed tliroupfli  the  medium  of  seveiT.l  pe- 
riodical publications,  has  lately  I'ome  ttt 
hand,  and  will  be  rt- printed  by  Kintber, 
Com  ad,  &  Co.  of  Philadelphia,  in  th6 
course  of  a  few  weeks. 

Fine  .^/*.— Mr.U.  Edwin  of  Pliiladd- 
phia  hfis  engraved  and  is  now  publish- 
ing, a  \-ery  accurate  and  eleg^ant  Vie^ 
of  the  Blood  Vessels  rfthe  Human  Bo(fyt 
executed  under  the  direction  and  with 
the  assist 'Auce  of  Dr.  Wistar.  The  exJ/ 
ecution  of  tliis  cngrH^*tng  reflects  grea^ 
credit  upon  the  skill,  talents,  and  accu- 
racy of  Mr.  Edwin,  and  will  be  found 
extremely  use&l  to  the  stttdents  in 
physick  and  surgery,  as  well  as  ttt 
othtmi-  wlip  may  wish  td  acquire  % 
knowledge  of  the  anatoiii>  of  the  kis* 


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ftU 


tiTBRAET  inrmiAsi^^nt^. 


Mian  body,  particularly  in  regard  to  the 
liiood  vessels. 

Great-Britaiw. 

The  following  arrangement  has  been 
made  atUie  Royal  Institution  tor  twelve 
courses  of  lectures,  to  be  delivered  the 
ensuing  season,  by  the  undermentioifed 
gentlemen.  1.  On  Chemialr),  by  H. 
Davy,  F.R.S.— 2.  On  Natural  Philoso- 
phy,'by  William  Allien,  esq.  F.  L.S.— 3» 
On  English  Literature,  by  Rev.  T.  F. 
Dibdin. — 4.  On  Moral  Philosophy,  by 
Rev.  Sidney  Smitli,  A.M.— d.  On  Dra- 
matick  Poetry,  by  Rev.  William Crowe# 
L.L.B.  Publick  Orator  of  the  Uiiiversi- 
ty  of  Oxford.— ^6.  On  Zoolog}*,  by  GeOi 
Shaw,  M.  D.  F.  L.  S.  Librarian  to  the 
British  Museum. — 7.  On  Belles  Let* 
tres,  by  Rev.  John  Hewlett,  B.  D.— 8. 
On  Musick,  by  W.  Crotch,  M.  D.  Pro- 
ftssor  of  Musick  in  the  University  of 
OxfbnL — ^9.  On  Uie  History  of  Com- 
merce^  by  Rev.  Edward  Forster. — 10» 
On  Drawing  in  Water  Colours,  W.  M. 
Craig,  esq.— 11.  On  Botany,  J.E.Smith, 
M.D.  F.R.S.  and  President  of  tlie  Lin- 
nean  Society.— 12.  On  Perspective,  by 
Mr.  Wood. 

Germany. 

ttii  not  without  sincere  satisfaction 
that  the  admirers  of  Gessner^s  Muse, 
■hdthe  amateurs  of  the  arts  will  learn 
that  his  family  has  engaged  Charles 
William  Kolb«,  an  emirtent  German 
Cfig^ver,  to  give  to  tlie  publick,  at  a 
noderate  price  a  scries  of  the  best 
lindscapes  executed  by  Gessncr. 
That  artist  has  obtained  permission  of 
ma  patroness,  the  princess  of  Dessau, 
to  devote  some  years  to  this  purpose  at 
Xurich  Itself,  amidst  the  fkmiiy  and 
the  friends  of  the  amiable  poet  The 
first  number  of  this  work  has  recently 
made  its  appearance.  It  contains  four 
prints  in  large  folio,  repreaenting  two 
of  the  best  pieces  in  water  coloiu^  in 
the  collection  of  Gemsner's  widow,  and 
two  drawings  in  the  cabinet  of  the 
princess  of  Dessau.  The  two  first  are 
known  by  tlie  titles  of  the  Fishermen 
Mul  the  Fountain  in  the  Wood*  The 
•ubjects  of  tlie  two  others  are  pasto. 
ral  scenes  taken  from  the  Idyls :  Daph- 
nis,  and  Phillis,  and  Chloe.  The 
execution  proves  that  the  honourable 
task  of  introducing  tliese  performances 
to  tlie  notice  of  the  publick  could  not 
be  confided  to  abler  hands.  M.  Kolbe, 
deeply  impressed  With  the  spirit  and 
the  manner  of  his  models  has  render- 
ed his  conceptiona  vAth  equal  feeling 
and  accuracy. 


An  important  fiiet  with  npxA  H 
the  theory  of  electricity,  has  nctsu^ 
been  discovered  by  M.  Bienvenu.  Bj 
varying  his  experiments  he  has  fouod^ 
in  contradiction  to  the  received  opinioQ, 
that  glass  and  rosin  produce  the  ume 
land  of  electricity,  and  that  the  differ- 
ence depends  upon  the  rubbers.  With 
a  cat's  skin  he  electrizes  an  clectropho. 
rus  of  rosin,  wliich  manifests  j^egatiw 
electricity  :  an  electrcphorus  nuidc  d 
a  piece  of  glass,  and  rubbed  witkt 
cat's  skin,  manifests  exactly  the  same 
kind  of  electricity  as  that  of  rosin.  Tbi* 
exi)eriment  proves  that  if  the  condudoi 
of  un  electrical  machine  constantly  giw 
positive  electricity,  the  reason  lia 
in  the  morocco  cushions,  i^'hich  pos- 
sess the  property  of  developing  the 
electricity  of  glass,  >*rluch,  received  on 
Uie  conductor,  communicates  to  it » 
positive  electricity.  To  pnnethishe 
substitutes  cushions  of  Cat's  skin  in 
their  stead  ;  the  glass  is  then  negi- 
tively  electrized,  and  the  conductoi' 
funiishinp  it  with  the  electricitr  ithii 
lost,  manifests  a  negative  electricity. 

STATEMENT  OF  DISEASES,  ^c 
from  Oct,  30  to  Kov.  20,  1806. 
The  temperature -of  the  atmosphert 
has  been  pretty  equable  during  the  put 
month.  The  weather  generally  ftm 
yet  varied,  with  moderate  rtlns,  aw 
some  snow.  The  most  pre>-alent  vfm 
have  been  the  north-west,  next  to  mt 
the  south-west,  and  then  the  north-e^ 
The  cases  of  disease  have  beeniwiffl 
diminished  m  number  this  month.  i» 
most  common  complaitit  continues  to  be 
/etw  I  accompanied  with  local  infl»- 
mation  more  rarely  than  be^-  ^ 
few  cases  of  choiera  have  occurred ;  « 
cyiianche  maligna  /  of  rhfumatunii  90. 
of  pneumonic  inJUtmmation, 

Errata.— In  the  first  p^o^?"'^ 
Antljology,  in  Mr.  Adams'  Di8q»u«ti«j 
the  first  s'entenoe  bf  the  6th  paragnpi 
should  read  thus  : —  r    «*r. 

"  Pliilosopbv  !  which  ages  of  s^ 
stition  idolised  as  a  Divinity,and  ww^ 
though  stripped  of  those  false  «r*PPI^ 
stiU  retains  attributes  and  »^^^^ 
worthy  the  homage,  and  c^^^^, 
the  love  and  admiraUon  of  »«"  *" 
ery  age."  «^v. 

In  theUnea  «On  listening  to  tom 
et,"  last  line  of  2d  and  tOth  v^^teM 
*hail  read  Mo/r-In  6th  verse,  1*^  " 
fw faithful,  temX/iftil' 


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tHi 


MONTHLY   ANTHOLOGY. 


DECEMBER,  1806. 


Tor  the  Anthology. 
tPIE    REMARKER. 


« * .  4 . .  i  i a  pbing"  spli-it, 

"^hose  influence  is  begot  of  that  loose  ^ace^ 
\Vhich  shallow  laughing  hearers  give  to  fools. 

XHE  scanty  portion  of  happi- 
ness, and  the  abundant  diffusion  of 
misery  over  the  world,  has  been  a 
constant  source  of  lamentation  in 
all  ages,  and  in  all  states  of  soci-^ 
cty  ;  but  that  the  degrees  of  each 
depend  more  Upon  ourselves}  than 
"We  are  willing  to  believe,  is  per- 
haps as  vrell  founded  in  truth,  as  it 
may  appear  to  be  paradoxical  : 
to  complain  of  fortune,  and  re- 
proach each  other,  are  privileges 
wc  seem  to  cling  to  as  tenaciously, 
as  to  existence  ;  to  esdmate  them 
above  the  price  of  happiness  itself ; 
and  think,  that  peace  and  content-^ 
ment  would  be  purchased  dearly 
hy  making  them  a  sacrifice.  In 
propordon  as  the  progress  of  sci- 
ence and  extension  of  literature 
have  tended  to  ameliorate  the  con-* 
didonof  life,and  refinement  of  taste 
*o  polish  the  manners  j  mankind 
have  been  ingenipus  to  counter-* 
balance  these  blessings  by  ficddous 
sorrows  and  ardficial  evils  ;  by 
listlessness  and  languor,  by  peev- 
ishness and  spleen,  by  arrogance 
and  conceit,  which  reason  is  not 
Buffered  to  repress,  and  by  insa- 
dable  vanity,  which,  generally  be- 
^g  as  coarse  in  taste,  as  voracious 
V©l.lII.No.  13.         4F 


Ab.  16. 


SifAKESPEARt. 


in  appedte,  can  find  some  kind  of 
gradfication  in  every  place.  But 
perhaps  there  is  nothing,  which  so 
much  disturbs  the  tranquillity  ot 
social  life,  as  that  mocking,  gibing 
spirit,  which  the  Poet  of  Nature 
has  justly  fcondemned  ;  which, 
though  the  possessors  flatter  them-* 
selves  to  be  the  effect  of  superiour 
quickness  and  penetradon,  has  ever 
been  considered  by  the  wise,  as 
characteristick  of  a  light  and  su* 
perficial  mind. 

In  highly  culdvated  society  su- 
periour talents  are  necessary  to 
attain  eminence,  and  even  they 
will  not  always  ensure  success  ; 
but  though  the  spirit  of  honourable 
ambition  is  felt  by  few,  the  desire 
of  notice  and  disdncdon  is  com-* 
mon  to  all ;  hence  the  labours  of 
egotism  to  display  itself,  and  the 
exertions  of  vanity  to  extort  admi* 
ration  ;  hence  peevish  invecdve  is 
indulged  in  the  hope  of  being 
dreaded  as  well-directed  satire,  for- 
ward imperdnence  attempts  to  im* 
pose  itself  for  an  easiness  of  ad- 
dress, and  flippant  pertness  sets 
up  for  a  wit  to  rail  at  the  ignorance 
and  dulness  of  mankind.  This 
gibing  spirit,  su  frequendy  m^ri« 


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61S 


,tnm  EBMARumx. 


tioncd  by  Shakcspeftre,  appean  to 
have  excited  in  his  bosom  a  great 
degree  of  indignation  and  con- 
tempt ;  of  cbntempt  for  the  qual- 
ity itself,  as  the  offspring  of  a  fool's 
vanity,  and  of  indignation  at  those 
«  shallow  laughing  hearers,'*  whose 
injudicious  dpplause  gives  it  an 
influence,  which  renders  it  mis- 
chievous. That  this  propensity 
thould  abound  m  polished  life  is 
not  to  be  wondered  at,  when  we 
consider  how  insidiously  vanity 
mixes  itself  with  all  our  actions, 
and  how  much  its  sphere  of  exer- 
cise is  enlarged  by  the  decoration, 
pageantry,  and  caprice,  which  at- 
tend on  luxury  anil  fashion  :  but 
that  this  spirit  shoaM  acquire  an 
influence  to  make  itself  dreaded, 
we  must  account  for  by  supposing 
these  laughing  hearers  to  be  as 
cowardly,  as  they  are  oomplaisanty 
and  that  their  applauses  proceed 
as  much  from  fear  of  being  sub- 
ject to  its  effects,  as  from  the  plea- 
sure they  take  in  seeing  it  em- 
ployed on  others. 

It  is  evident,  that  ignorance  and 
vanity  are  the  legitimate  parents 
of  mockery  and  flouting.     Those 
who  best  know  themselves  find 
imperfections  enough  at  home  to 
beget  humility,  and  tenderness  to 
the  failings  of  others  ;    and  those 
who  have  made  some  advances  to- 
wards the  temple  of  wisdom,  find 
more  pleasure  in  the  extension  of 
their  prospects,  than  pride  in  re- 
viewing   the  small    comparative 
progress  they  have  made  ;  but  su- 
perficial minds,  having  reached  as 
fcir  as  their  feeble  vision  enabled 
them  to  see,  believe  they  have  at- 
tained the  summit  of  excellence, 
and  sit  down  in  confidence  to  enjoy 
all  the  immunities  of  vanity  ;  its 
pretensions  being  frequently  not 
only  unreasonable,  but  unbounded, 
lire  sometimes  disputed ;  this  gen- 
erates a  petulant  disposition^  which 


ferments  and  vents  Itself  in  ctuffi* 
tions  of  petty  malice  and  mean  dc* 
traction.     The  imperfect  state  of 
man  affords  an  abundance  of  crimci 
and  foHies,  of  deviations  and  mis- 
takes, of  sti'ange  and  ridiculoui 
circumstances,  which  require  no 
extraordinary  penetration  to  dis- 
cover.    It  is  easy  enough  for  little 
beings  to  spend  their  time  in  hunt- 
ing out  the  little  foibles,  humours, 
awkwardness,  or    peculiarity,  of 
their  neighbours  ;  to  hold  them  up 
to  ridicule,  and  delight  themselves 
and  «  shallow  laughing  hearers," 
with  descriptions  incessantly  re- 
peated.     Cats,  owls,  and  fcnttt 
delight  to  hunt  after  vermin,  be- 
cause they  feed  on  it  afterwards; 
and  monkeys  will,for  thcirown  par- 
ticular gratification,  perform  that 
office  for  which  decency  and  clean- 
liness require  the  assistance  <rf » 
comb  ;  but  generous  natures  find 
no  gratification  in  such  employ- 
ment; their  aim  is  to'attain  superi- 
ority, rather  than  degrade  it ;  to  en- 
courage the  diffident,  rather  ihaa 
overwhelm  them  with  confusion ; 
and  to  support  modest  pretension* 
and  honest  endeavours,  whenw 
danger  of  being  brow-beat  by  ar- 
rogance, or  of  shrinking  from  the 
jeers  of  a  gibing  spirit.    A  &m 
spirit  requires  neither  the  kcennesi 
of  satire,  nor  the  brillbnce  of  vii ; 
it  often  affects  these  qualities,  but 
supplies  their  place  by  piyingc"' 
riosity,  a  spiteful  temper,  unblush- 
ing assurance,  a  loud  tone,  mim- 
ickry,  exaggeration,  and  not  sel- 
dom by  falsehood.    It  is  most  fre- 
quently possessed  by  those  vbosc 
vanity  has  l^een  mortified,  or  whose 
extravagant  pretensions  few  were 
willing  to  allow  ;  by  those  whose 
chimerical  notions  of  fended  bap- 
pineHs  experience  has  ovcrthrovn, 
or  whose  malevolence  has  been  de- 
feated, and  recoiled  upon  tbeir- 
selves  ;  but  it  reigns  triumpl^»* 


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•SXIUS   A5D   WUrriNOS   Of  »ll.  BEAViMffI 


ill 


nt  the  tea  tabic,  when  thronged 
with  gossips  from  every  quarter, 
and  of  every  kind.  The  ancient 
•maiden,  who  tqo  late  regrets  re- 
fusing offers  as  good  as  she  had 
any  right  to  expect ;  the  gaudy  or 
the  slatternly  wife,  who  married 
.not  from  the  impulse  of  virtuous 
affection,  but  that  she  might,  with 
more  impunity,  indulge  her  darl- 
ing propensities  ;  the  pretty  in- 
sipid miss,  whose  head  would  be 
perfectly  vacant  of  ideas,  were 
there  not  in  the  world  such  things 
as  muslin  and  lace,  and  trinke;ts 
and  gewgaws, and  dancing-masters 
and  beaux ;  the  coxcomb,  who  hav- 
ing left  the  college  or  shop,  ap- 
plies to  his  ti^lor  and  shpemaker 


to  shape  him  into  a  gentleman,  and 
after  visiting  the  brothels  and 
gambling-houses  of  foreign  coun- 
tries,, calls  himself  a  buck,  and  a 
man  of  the  world ;  these  generally 
compose  the  mass  of  "  shallow 
laughing  hearers,"  whose  "  loose 
grace"  or  vague  and  worthless  ap- 
plause give  to  a  gibing  spirit  the 
influence  and  eclat  it  sometimes 
possesses  ;  upon  such  suffrages  it 
plumes  itself,  and  acquires  a  con- 
fidence, which  simple  honesty  and 
unaffected  goodness  observes  with 
astonishment  and  fear,  and  which 
stern  wisdom  cannot  easily  put 
down. 
^\jkc.  :18, 1806u 


CRITICISM. 
0  ^  tKiLTpn  aw  mm  gknxus  xnd  writings  o»  »«.  bkatyi*,  wtTS  *x. 

TRACTS    FROM    Hit    LIFE    AND    LETTERS." 

Concluded  from  p.  576, 
Althouoh  Dr.  Beattie  expe-    and  very  superciliously  seems  tt> 


Tienced  the  happiness,  as  a  philos- 
opher, to  have  almost  all  the  em- 
inent divines  on  his  side,  such  as 
Porteus,  Hurd,  Markham,  &c.  yet 
it  seems  he  had  not  the  unanimous 
concurrence  of  the  Bench  of  Bish- 
ops. For  in  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Mon- 
tagu, of  March  13,  1774,  he  says, 
•*  Pray,  Madrxm,  be  so  good  as  to 
favour  me  with  some  account  of 
the  Bishop  of  Carlisle,  Dr.  Law, 
if  he  happens  to  be  of  your  ac- 
quaintance. His  I<ordship,  in  a 
book  lately  published,  has  been 
pleased  to  attack  me  in  a  strange 
manner,*  though  in  few  words, 

•  Considerations  on  the  Theory  of 
Roli|^ion,  by  Edmund  Lord  Bishop  of 
C^jrlisle,  p.  431.     F'jrbes. 

The  Bishop  was  of  a  school  of  phi- 
losophers and  divines,  whom  ^e  have 
fince  hiultliehappiijess  of  seeing' jp  out 
f>^  fashion.  But  when  tlie  Editor  was 
M  Cambridge,  the  prejudices  in  favour 
§i  tb«  dry,  course,  and  fallacious  fli9d«f 


condemn  my  whole  book  ;  be- 
cause I  believe  "  in  the  identity  of 
the  human  soul,  and  that  there  are 
innate  powers,  and  implanted  in- 
stincts in  our  jiature.**  He  hints, 
too,  at  my  being  a  native  of  Scot- 
land, and  imputes  my  unnatural 
fvay  of  reasoning,  (for  so  he  char- 
acterizes it)  to  my  ignorance  of 
what  has  been  written  on  the  other 
side  of  the  question,  by  some  late 
authors.  It  would  be  a  very  easy 
matter  for  me  to  return  such  an 
answer  to  his  loidship,  as  would 
satisfy  the  world,  that  he  has  been 
rather  hasty  in  signing  my  con- 
demnation ;  but  perhaps  it  will 
be  better  to  take  no  notice  of  it ; 
I  shall  be  determined  by  your  ad- 
vict.     His  doctrine  is,  that  the 

of  thinking  and  reasoning^,  of  this  bard 
old  man,  who  then  resided  tiiere,  had 
not  ceased.  He  was  father  of  the  pr«« 
swt  L«rd  fiUoabgrouj^k. 


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eEMtUS  A.KD  W&ITIK68  OF  DK.  SEATTIK, 


human  soul  forfeited  its  immor- 
tality by  the  fall,  but  regained  it 
in  consequence  of  the  merits  of 
Jesus  Christ ;  and  that  it  cannot 
exist  without  the  body ;  and  must, 
therefore,  in  the  interval  between 
death  and  the  resurrection,  remain 
in  a  state  of  non-existence.  The 
theory  is  not  a  new  one  ;  but  his 
Lordship  seems  to  be  one  of  the 
most  sanguine  of  its  adherents. 
Some  of  the  objections,  drawn 
from  the  scripture,  he  gets  the 
better  of  by  a  mode  of  criticism, 
which,  I  humbly  think,  would  not 
be  admitted  in  a  commentary  upon 
luiy  other  book.*' 

In  1776,  Dr.  Beat  tie  published 
his  «  Essays  on  Poetry  and  Mu- 
sick  ;  Laughter  and  Ludicrous 
Composition  :  and  on  the  utility 
of  Classical  Learning."  "  My 
principal  purpose,"  says  he,  "  was 
to  make  my  subject  plain  and  en- 
tertaining ;  and,  as  often  as  I  could, 
the  vehicle  of  moral  instruction  ; 
a  purpose,  to  which  every  part  of 
the  pliilosophy  of  the  human 
Tnind,  and  indeed  of  science  in 
general,  may,  and  ought,  in  ray 
opinion,  to  be  made  in  some  de- 
gree subservient.'' 

I  will  now  add  a  few,  and  a  very 
few,  miscellaneous  extracts  ;  for  I 
fear  this  article  already  grows  too 
long. 

1785.  "  Johnson- s  harsh  and 
foolish  censure  of  Mrs.  Montagu's 
book  docs  not  surprise  mc  ;  for  I 
have  heard  him  speak  contemptu- 
ously of  it.  It  is,  for  all  that,  one 
of  the  best,  most  original,  and  most 
elegant  pieces  of  criticism  in  our 
languap:e,  or  any  other.  Johnson 
had  many  of  the  talents  of  a  crit- 
ick  ;  but  his  want  of  temper,  his 
violent  prejudices,  and  something, 
I  am  afraid,  of  an  evious  turn  of 
mind,  made  him  often  a  very  unfair 
one.      Mrs.  Montagu    was  very 


kind  to  him  ;    but  Mrs.  Montagu 
has  more  wit  than  any  body  ;  and 
Johnson  could  not  bear  that  anj- 
person  should  be  thought  to  have 
wit  but  himself.   Even  Lord.  Ches- 
terfield, and,  what  is  more  strange, 
even  Mr.  Burke  he  would  not  al- 
low to   liave  wit !    He  preferred 
Smollett  to  Fielding.     He  would 
not  grant  tliat  Armstrong's  poem 
on  «  Health,"  or  the  tragedy  of 
"  Douglas,"  had  any  merit.     He 
told  me  that  he  never  read  Miltoa 
through,  till  he  was  obliged  to  do 
it,  in  order  tp  gather  words   for 
his  Dictionary,     He   spoke  Tery 
peevishly  of  the  Masque  of  Co^ 
mus ;  and  when  X  urged  that  there 
was  a  great  deal  of  exquisite  po» 
etry  in  it  ;   **  Yes,"  said  he,  "  but 
it  is  like  gold  hid  under  a  rock  ;" 
to  which  I  made  no  reply  ;  for  in* 
deed  I  did  not  well  understand  iL 
Pray,  did  you  ever  see  Mr.  Potter'* 
"  Remarks  on  Johnson's  Lives  of 
the  Poets  ?"    It  is  very  well  worth 
reading." 

1788,  «  What  Mrs.  Piozzl  sayi 
of  Goldsmith  is  perfectly  true.  He 
was  a  poor  fretful  creature,  eaten 
up  with  affectation  and  envy.  He 
was  the  only  person  I  ever  knew, 
who  acknowledged  himself  to  be 
envious.  In  Johnson's  presence 
he  was  quiet  enough  ;  bu^  in  his 
absence  expressed  great  uneasiness 
in  hearing  him  praised.  He  en- 
vied even  the  dead  ;  he  could  not 
bear  that  Shakespeare  should  be 
so  much  admired  as  he  is.  There 
might,  however,  be  something  like 
magnanimity  in  envying  Shake- 
speare and  Or.  Johnson  ;  as  in 
Julius  Cxsar's  weeping  to  think} 
that  at  an  age  at  which  be  had  done 
so  little,  Alexander  should  have 
done  so  much.  But  surely  Gold- 
smith had  no  occasion  to  envy  me ; 
which,  however,  he  certainly  did ; 
fof  he  owned  it^  ^though  when  vc 


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^it 


jnet,  he  was  always  very  civil ;) 
and  I  received  undoubted  infor- 
mation, that  he  seldom  missed  an 
Opportunity  of  speaking  ill  of  me 
behind  my  back.  Goldsmith's 
common  conversation  was  a  strange 
mixture  of  absurdity  and  silliness  ; 
pf  silliness  so  great  as  to  make  me 
think  sometimes  that  he  affected 
it.  Yet  he  was  a  great  genius  of 
po  mean  rank  :  somebody,  who 
knew  him  well,  called  him  an  in- 
s/nred  idiot.  His  ballad  of  "  Ed* 
win  and  Angelina,"  is  exceedingly 
beautiful  ;  and  in  his  two  other 
poem's,  though  there  be  great  ine- 
qualities, there  is  pathps,  energy^ 
md  even  sublimity." 

In  ir90  Beattie  lost  his  eldest 
son  ;  and  in  17^6,  his  remaining 
son.  These  successive  shocks 
were  too  much  for  a  tender  heai't ! 
fdready  half  broken  by  the  sorrow 
for  their  mother's  incurable  mala- 
dy. From  the  last  event  he  at 
times  lost  his  senses.  "  A  deep 
gloom,"  says  he,  "  hangs  upon 
me,  and  disables  all  my  faculties  ; 
and  thoughts  so  strange  sometimes 
occur  to  me,  as  to  make  me  "  fear 
that  I  am  not,"  as  Lear  says,  "  in 
my  perfect  mind." 

Yet,  on  May  15,  1797,  he  wrote 
^  letter  to  Mr.  Frazer  Tytler, 
somewhat  in  his  former  manner  ; 
from  whence  the  following  e;cti'act 
is  derived. 

"  There  Js  one  translation,  which 
I  greatly  admire,  but  am  sure  you 
l^ever  saw,  as  you  have  not  men- 
tioned it :  the  book  is  indeed  very 
rare  ;  I  obtained  it  with  difficulty 
by  the  friendship  of  Tom  Davies, 
an  old  English  bookseller;  I  mean, 
Dobson's  "  Para:iisus  Aniissus  ;" 
piy  son  studied,  and  I  believe,  read 
every  line  of  it.  It  is  more  true  to 
the  original,  both  in  sense  and 
spirit,  than  apy  other  poetical  ver- 


sion of  length,  that  I  have  seen. 
The  author  must  have  had  an 
amazing  command  of  Latin  phrase^ 
ology,  and  a  very  nice  car  in  har» 
mony.  ****, 

"  Being  curious  to  know  some 
particulars  of  Dobson,  I  inquired 
of  hira  at  Johnson,  who  owned  he 
had  known  him,  but  did  not  seenj 
inclined  to  speak  on  the  subject. 
But  Johnson  hated  Milton  from 
his  heart ;  and  he  wished  to  be 
himself  considered  as  a  good  Latin 
poet ;  which  however,  he  never 
was,  as  may  be  seen  by  his  transla* 
tion  of  Pope's  Messiah.  All  that 
I  could  ever  hear  of  Dobson's  pri«» 
vate  life  was,  that  in  his  old  age 
he  was  given  to  drinking.  Mf 
edition  of  his  book  is  dated  1730. 
It  is  dedicated^  to  Mr.  Benson^ 
who  was  a  famous  admirer  of  Mil- 
ton ;  and  from  the  dedication  it 
would  seem  to  have  been  written 
at  his  desire,  and  under  his  pat» 
ronage.* 

•  Dr.  J.  Warton  sayg,  that  Benson 
"  grave  Dobson  ^.1000  for  his  Latin 
translation  of  Paradise  Lost.  Dobson 
had  acquired  great  reputation  by  hit 
translation  of  Prior's  Solomon,  the  first 
book  of  which  be  finished,  when  he  wa» 
a  scholar  at  Wincliester  colieg-e.  He 
had  not  at  that  time,  m  he  told  me,  (fop 
I  Icnc  w  him  well)  read  Lucretius,  which 
would  liave  given  a  richness  and  force 
to  his  verses  ;  the  chief  fault  of  which 
was  a  monotony,  siud  want  of  variety  of 
Virgilian  pauses.  Mr.  Pope  wished 
him  to  translate  tl\e  Essay  on  Man, 
wiiich  he  began  to  do  ;  but  i-clinqmsh- 
ed  on  account  of  the  impossibility  of 
imitating  its  brevity  in  another  hm- 
guagc.  He  has  avoided  the  monotoi^ 
abovcmentioned  in  his  Milton;  wliich 
monotony  was  occasioned  by  translating 
a  poem  in  rhyme.  Bishop  Hare,  a  ca- 
pable  judge,  used  to  mention  his  Solo- 
mon as  one  of  the  purest  pieces  of  mod* 
em  Latin  poetry.  Though  he  had  s^ 
much  felicity  in  translating,  yet  hi^ 
original  poems,  of  which  I  have  seen 
many,  were  very  feeble  and  flat,  .'Oid 
contained  no  mark  of  genius.  He  bad 
no  yreat  stock  of  ijeaeral  literature,  t«4 


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•Emus   t?:©  WHlTXirOt  0»  DM.   BBATTI9. 


1798.  "  I  am  acquainted  with 
SI  any  parts  of  your  excursion 
through  the  north  of  England,  and 
Tcry  glad  that  you  had  my  old 
friend  Mr.  Gray's  «  Letters"  with 
you,  which  are  indeed  so  well 
written,  that  I  haTe  no  scruple  to 
pronounce  them  the  best  letters, 
tliat  have  been  printed  in  our  lan- 
guage. Lady  Mary  Montagu's 
«*  Liters"  are  not  without  merit, 
but  are  too  artificial  and  affected 
to  be  confided  in  as  true  ;  and 
Lord  Chesterfield's  have  much 
greater  faults  ;  indeed,  some  of 
the  greatest  that  letters  can  have  : 
t>ut  Gray's  letters  are  always  sen- 
sible, and  of  classical  conciseness 
and  perspicuity.  They  very  much 
resemble  what  his  conversation 
was.  He  had  none  of  the  airs  of 
cither  a  scholar  or  a  poet  ;  and 
though  on  those,  and  all  other  sub- 
jects, he  spoke  to  me  with  the  ut- 
most freedom,  and  without  any 
reserve,  he  was,  in  general  com- 
panyi  much  more  silent  than  one 
could  have  wished-" 

Dr.  Beattie  died  Aug.  18,  180S, 
Kt.  68. 

His  character  has  been  as  justly 
and  eloquentlyjas  briefly,  sketched 
by  Mrs.  Montagu,  in  a  letter  to 
himself.  "  We  considered  you," 
Bays  she,  "  as  a  poet,  with  admira- 
tion ;  as  a  philosopher,  with  res- 
pect ;  as  a  Christian,  with  venera- 
tion ;  and  as  a  friend,  with  affec- 
tion." He  clearly  directed  his 
ambition  to  excellence,  rather  as  a 
philosopher,  than  as  a  poet  ;  and 
yet  it  is  apparent,  that  these  studies 
were  not  congenial  to  his  natural 
tast«  ;  but  that  they  fatigued  and 
oppressed   him.     In  these  paths 

m-as  by  no  means  qualified  to  pronounce 
vn  wliat  degree  of  learning  Pope  pos- 
sessed ;  and  I  am  surprised  tliat  John- 
ton  should  quote  him,  as  saying,  "  I 
&;huI  Pope  hod  mo^c  learning  than  1 
expected."     Warttn't  Fope,  V.  340. 


he  seems  to  have  arrived  at  tht 
utmost  height,  of  which  his  pow- 
ers were  capable  ;  but  this  is  hr 
from  being  the  case  with  the  poe- 
try he  has  left.  Beautiful  as  is  his 
Minstrel,  yet,  had  he  concluded  it 
on  the  plan  he  originally  mtended, 
which  I  must  venture,  in  opposi- 
tion to  Dr.  Aikin,  to  say,  was 
easily  within  the  scope  of  his  ge- 
nius, he  would  have  contributed 
Tery  materially  both  to  its  varielj 
and  its  interest.  I  will  add  that 
the  innocent  and  exalted  occupadoo 
might  have  soothed  his  broken 
spirits,  and  gilded  the  clouds  of 
his  latter  days. 

It  is  not  easy  to  guess,  whci 
we  consider  the  opinions  which 
this  excellent  author  himself  pro- 
mulgated in  his  philosophical 
works,  on  what  ground  he  depre- 
ciated the  dignity,  or  the  use,  of 
his  capacity  as  a  poet.  But  it  ii 
certain  that,  at  least  for  the  last 
thirty  years  of  his  life,  he  did 
slight  and  neglect  it  most  unjust- 
ly. There  is  no  adequate  rcasoa 
for  considering  it  inconsistent 
with  his  professional  functions, 
which  his  exemplary  virtue  induc- 
ed him  to  discharge  with  uncom- 
mon industry  and  altendon.  h 
would,  on  the  contrary,  have  re- 
lieved the  toil  of  them,  by  a  det 
lightful  diversity  of  ideas.  But  it 
may  be  suspected,  that  there  wai 
a  certain  timidity  in  this  good 
man's  mind,  not  entirely  consonant 
with  the  richness  of  his  endow- 
ments. In  the  cause  of  religion 
indeed,  his  piety  made  him  bold ; 
but  he  was  otherwise  a  little  tot 
sensible  of  popular  prejudices. 

The  goodness  of  the  cause  and 
the  particular  occasion,  has  added 
an  accidental  value  to  his  grtat 
philosophical  work,  "  The  Efsaf 
on  Truth."  But  I  believe  1  am 
not  singular  in  asserting,  that  hi» 
genius  is  least  capable  of  rivahf 
in  that  "  Minstrel,"  on  vhiph  \m 


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fccstowed  to  little  comparative  at- 
tention :  while  it  is  apparent  that, 
even  there,  his  severer  studies  oc- 
casionally encumbered  and  depres- 
sed his  fancy.  Burns  knew  better 
the  strength  which  nature  had  bes- 
towed on  him,  and  giving  full 
scope  to  it,  succeeded  accordingly. 
The  Letters  which  are  now 
published,  exhibit  Dr.  Beatie's 
moral  character  in  ths  most  amia- 
ble light.  Their  style  unites  ease 
juid  elegance  ;  and  they  prove  the 
correctness  of  his  opinions,  the 
nicety  of  his  taste,  and  the  sound- 
ness of  his  judgment.  They 
discover,  above  all,  the  tenderness 
©f  his  heart,  and  the  fervour  of  his 
religion.  But  the  frankness  of 
truth  demands  from  me  the  con- 
fession, that  they  do  not  appear  to 
xne  to  possess  those  characteristick 
excellences,  as  literary  composi- 
tions, which  enchant  us  in  the  let- 
ters of  Burns  and  Cowper  ;  and 
wliich  none  but  themselves  could 
have  written.  He  has  nothing 
like  the  touching  simplicity  of  the 
poet  of  Weston  ;  nor  any  thing 
Mke  the  ardent  eloquence  of  the 


Bard  of  Airshlrc.*  He  scares 
ever  indulges  in  sallies  congenial 
with  the  rich  warblings,  which 
used  to  flow  so  copiously  from  ths 
harp  of  the  inspired  Edwin. 

I  would  now  willingly  enter  in- 
to the  peculiar  traits  both  of  ths 
poetical  and  prose  works,  oa 
which  Beattie's  fame  was  found- 
ed ;  but  this  article  is  already  too 
long  ;  (I  hope  my  readers  will  not 
think  it  out  of  place  ;)  and  I  havo 
now  neither  room  nor  leisure  for 
more,  except  to  say,  that  as  a  poet 
he  possessed  an  originality,  and  an 
excellence,  to  which  I  doubt  whc* 
ther  justice  has  yet  been  done.f 

July  2,  1806. 

*  I  do  not  recollect  that  the  names 
of  Cowper,  or  Bums,  once  occur  in 
Beattie's  own  lettera,  which  is  singtilar. 

t  It  has  lonfi^  been  my  wish,  if  Pro- 
vidence  should  ever  permit  me  a  littlo 
continued  leisure  from  the  sorrows  and 
perplexities,  by  wliich  I  have  for  some 
years  been  agitated,  to  enter  into  an  en* 
tire  separate  Disquisition  on  the  Poetical 
Character ;  its  tendencies  ;  the  mode  in 
which  it  should  he  cherished  ;  and  thm 
bcneEtj  to  be  deiived  from  ii. 


BIOGRAPHY. 

For  the  Monthly  Anthology. 
LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BENTLEY,  D.  D. 
CCondaded  from  page  567.] 
TifttttrMrm  fit$  urn  T^mrct  ra  m^  tT|F  4^;^«»  ayaCa, — Plat,  dc  Leg.  IV, 


WE  cannot  enter  into  a  particu- 
lar examination  of  Bentley's  cor- 
rections on  the  present  occasion, 
ftsthe  life  of  our  favourite  critick 
has  already  extended  far  beyond 
the  proposed  limits.  One  emen- 
dation we  must  transcribe,  as  it  Is 
Yery  happy,  and  elucidates  a  pas- 
sage which  was  neither  measure 
nor  sense.     Lib.  V.  733. 

Utfpte  per  ingentea  p§pulut  deter  ihitur  urbee 
I*r46cipuumque  patre*  retiticnt,  et  proxi- 
ftiMtHe^wttw 


Ordo  locum  ;   populunupte  equitip  popul^* 

que  iubire 
Vulgut  inert  videae,  etjam  tine  nomivt 

turbatn  : 
Sic  etiam  tnagno  quadam  bbsfvblxca 

tnundo  eet. 

In  the  last  line  some  copies  have 
rrdponderc^  and  the  best  manuscript 
has  res  fiendercy  instead  of  respub" 
lica,  which  we  owe  to  the  critical 
acumen  of  Dr.  Bcntlcy.  The 
word  was  originally,  he  supposes, 
written  re*/i.  and  from  this  the  bluii* 
derinj;  transcribers  derived  thci/ 


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%^u 


llFl  Oi  iiEirtLKY. 


te^fiondere  :  oi  which  the  learned 
editor  in  his  note  »ays  :  Besfion^ 
dere  conjugationia  tertiti  omnem 
iarbariem  exauficrat.  J^ec  eciai 
numeri  an  aententia  dtptjorP       . 

Toup  mentions  this  passage  in 
his  Efiiatola  Critica  with  its  due 
portion  of  praise  :  «  Quin  ety 
dum  h4tc  scriboi  commodum  in  men^ 
tern  venit  emendationis  Bentleiana 
in  Maniliuwiy  quam  hac  occadone 
momtusy  flic  in  transitu  aublevan^ 
dam  curaboj  nam  et  mea  fiost  me 
mlii  curabunt  scilicet/*  He  then 
quotes  the  passage,  and  gives  the 
last  lines  as  it  stands  in  the  com- 
mon copies  : 

Sic  etiant  ma^no  qiUdam  retpondere 
mundo. 

Z.0CU9  elegantiaaimusy  aed  versus 
postremua  mardfeato  corrufitus  est  / 
emendabat  BentleH  sagacitas  : 

Sic  etiam  in  rtia^  quadam  respublI- 
CA  mundo  est. 

Quod  alii  veri,  alii  falsi  simile  esse 
dicuntego  vero  nihil  ertiua  esse 
mffirmo,  Fidem  facie t  Lactantiiis, 
Efiit,  cafi,  2.  Ac  IN  MUNDi  re-* 
Public  A,  rdsi  unus  fuiaset  modera-^ 
iory  8cc.  There  are  several  other 
emendations,  which  display  as 
touch  critical  sagacity,  and  equally 
tnerit  adoption  ;  though  Bentley 
has  been  accused  of  pretending 
not  to  understand  passages  in  Ma* 
tiiiius,  merely  to  have  an  opportu-* 
nity  of  exercising  his  abilities  at 
correction.  We  do  not  pretend  to 
vouch  for  the  truth  of  this  accusa« 
tion,  but  must  confess  that  we  do 
Hot  give  it  much  credit.  Such  an 
affectation  of  ignorance  could  only 
produce  ridicule,  for  if  Bcntlcy 
chose  to  be  blind  and  dull  himself, 
he  could  not  suppose  that  the 
yfovld  would,  therefore^  b«  less 
fehai^  sighted. 

The  Astronomicon  of  Manilius 
Was  the  last  classical  work  which 
Dr.  Bentley  lived  to  publish,  al- 
though he  was  among  the  first  au« 


thors  on  whom  he  ciwployed  hi4 
corrective  talents,  with  a  view  to 
publication.  In  the  preface  to 
his  immortal  dissertation  on  the 
Epistles  of  Phalaris,  he  says :  «  I 
had  then  prepared  a  Manilius  for 
the  pressj  which  had  been  publish-* 
ed  already,  had  not  the  deamess  of 
paper,  and  the  want  of  good  types, 
and  some  other  occasions,  hinder- 
ed me.'* 

In  the  former  part  of  this  life, 
we  intentionally  omitted  mention- 
ing Bentley's  views,  with  regaid  to 
Manilius.  We  shall  now  trans^ 
cribe  from  the  same  preface  what- 
ever relates  to  this  subjects 

Bentley  had  been  accused  hf 
Boyle  of  sending  a  manuscript 
treatise  about  Theodorus  Mallius, 
written  by  Rubenius^  to  Grenus, 
for  publication,  without  mention^ 
ing  Sir  Edward  Sherbum's  name, 
from  whom  he  had  received  it. 
This  charge  Bentley  fully  confutes. 
"  I  had  prepared,  he  says,  a  new 
edition  of  Manilius;  which  de-" 
sign  being  known  abroad,  occasion- 
ed my  acquaintance  with  Sir  Ed- 
ward Sherburn,  who  had  formerly 
translated  the  fii*st  book  of  that 
poet  into  English  verse,  and  ex- 
plained it  with  a  large  commen-' 
tary.  He  had  got  together  some 
old  and  scarce  editions,  which  he 
courteously  lent  me  ;  and  beside 
those,  he  had  purchased  at  Ant-' 
werp,  by  the  means  of  a  bookscl-' 
ler,  a  whole  box  full  of  papers  of 
the  famous  Caspar  Gevartius's, 
who  undertook  an  edition  of  the 
same  poet,  but  was  prevented  by 
death." 

Among  these  {rapers  he  foimd 
little  of  any  consequence,  but  the 
manuscript  already  mentioned, 
which  he  sent  to  the  learned  Grt^ 
vius,  who  quite  forgot  the  circum* 
stances  of  Sir  Edward  Sherburn  s 
box,  when  he  published  the  book, 
and  incautiously  dedicated  it, to 
Dr.  Bentley,    He,  however,  aftcr^ 


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iirs  or  BSNTtif: 


«;m. 


Ward^  apologized  very  sufficiently 
for  this  neglect,  in  a  letter  to  our 
learned  critick,  which  he  thus  con- 
cludes :  "  Fale^-^t  Hbi  fierauade^ 
ie  docto9  omnea  viros  maxime  facer e^ 
rumfiantur  ut  ilia  Codria  j  aed  ncni' 
inem  eaae  qvi  te  majoria  faciat^  et 
magia  itatimet  quam  ego  te  /acioJ* 
In  the  former  part  of  the  epistle, 
he  confesses  that  the  omission  of 
Sir  Edward's  name  was  hia  own 
faulty  and  that  Bentley  was  not  in 
the  least  censurable. 

In  the  same  box  of  Gevartius's 
t>apers,  there  were  two  copies  of  a 
discourse  on  the  age  of  the  poet 
Manilius,  by  the  learned  Godefridus 
Wendelinus.  One  of  these  Sir 
Edward  presented  to  Bentley,  who 
proposed  to  prefix  the  whole,  or  a 
part  of  it,  to  his  edition  of  the  As- 
tronomicon.  It  is  much,  there- 
fore, to  be  lamented,  that  the  Doc« 
tor  did  not  write  the  preface  or 
prolegomena  to  this  edition,  as  the 
learned  world  might  then  have 
been  in  possession  of  his  sen(ti<« 
tnents  with  regard  to  this  author, 
and  his  various  editors  and  com- 
mentators, more  fully  than  they 
are  stated  by  his  nephew. 

In  the  account  of  Bentley's  early 
life,  one  circumstance  was  omitted. 
About  the  time  of  the  publication 
©f  his  Epistle  to  Dr.  Mill,  on  the 
Chronography  of  Malela,  he  pub- 
lished a  specimen  of  a  new  edition 
of  Philostiatus,  at  Leipsic.  Only 
one  sheet  was  printed.  Thb  cir- 
cumstance is  mentioned  by  the  in* 
defktigable  Fabricius,  and  by  Olea- 
rius,  in  his  preface  to  the  works  of 
Philostratus*  They  do  not,  how- 
ever, mention  the  reason  of  his 
laying  his  plan  aside.  He  intend- 
ed to  have  given  the  text  in  a  more 
correct  manner  than  former  editors, 
with  notes  and  a  new  Latin  version. 
We  cannot  help  lamenting  that 
Bentley  did  not  prosecute  his  de- 
sign.  Every  edition  of  the  ancients 

V9U  UL  No.  12.        4G 


executed  by  such  a  scholar  xnudi 
have  been  valuable ;  and  it  is  rather 
surprising,  when  his  deep  knowl- 
edge of  Greek  is  considered,  that 
he  did  not  devote  his  time  seri- 
ously to  publishing  more  of  the 
writers  in  that  language.  He  ex- 
ecuted, indeed,  much  less  than  he 
proposed  ;  but  the  quarrels,  into 
which  he  was  involved  by  his  ene- 
mies, may,  in  some  measure,  ac- 
count for  the  fewness  of  the  au- 
thors, whose  works  appeared  un- 
der the  auspices  of  the  great  Bent- 
ley. 

In  the  year  iT40  Dr.  Bentley 
lost  his  lady,  whom  he  had  marrie4 
soon  after  he  M^as  preferred  to  the 
mastership  of  Trinity -College.  He 
did  not  long  survive  her,  but  died 
the  fourteenth  day  of  July,  1742, 
and  was  buried  in  Trinity -College 
chapel.  The  following  short  in- 
scription is  placed  on  the  ston^ 
which  covers  his  grave  % 
H.  S.    E. 

IllCHARDUS      BeNTLETi 

S.   T.  P.   R. 
Obiit  XIV.  Jul.  ir42. 

iExATIS    80. 

These  are  all  the  monumental 
honours  of  this  great  man,  who 
needed  not  the  inscription  of  a 
tomb-stone  to  transmit  his  memo- 
ry to  posterity*. 

He  left  behind  him  three  child- 
ren* His  son,  Mr.  Richard  Bent- 
ley, who  was  educated  under  the 
Doctor's  inspection,  at  Trinity 
College,  of  which  he  was  chosen 
fellow,  succeeded  his  father  as 
Royal  Librarian  at  St.  James's, 
but  resigned  that  place  in  1745. 
He  died  in  the  year  1782,  and  was 
more  eminent  for  his  elegant  taste 
in  the  polite  arts,  than  for  his  phi- 
lological acquisitions.  He  display- 
ed his  ingenuity  and  fancy  in  the 
admirable  designs  which  he  mad^ 

•  Biog.  Brit  v.  1.  p.  242.  note  FF, 


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$76 


tirs  or  BftfiTLtf. 


ibrMr.Gray 's  pocTni,wliich  were  af- 
terwards engraved  &  published.  To 
his  pan  the  publick  are  indebted  for 
the  tragedy  of  Philodamus,  which 
Mr.  Gray  esteemed  so  highly,  that 
he  wrote  a  commentary  on  it,  and 
pronounced  it  to  be  one  of  the 
first  poetical  compositions  in  the 
English  language.  Good  drama' 
tick  ^orms,however,  are  not  always 
good  /liay^.  It  was  introduced  on 
the  stage,  above  fifteen  years  after 
its  publication,  in  178^,  at  the 
Theatre  Royal  in  Covcnt-Garden, 
but  it  did  not  succeed. 

Dr.  Bentley's  elder  daughter, 
Elizabeth,  was  married  about  the 
year  172r,  to  Sir  Humphry  Ridge, 
the  eldest  son  of  Mr.  Ridgje,  who 
possessed  a  considerable  fortune, 
and  was  brewer  to  the  navy  at 
Portsmouth.  A  grandson  of  the 
learned  Dr.  Cumberland,  Bishop 
of  Peterborough,  married  his 
younger  daughter,  Joanna,  a  few 
years  after,  and  died  not  long  ago 
Bishop  of  Kilmorc,  in  Ireland. 
Their  son,  Mr.  Cumberland,  who 
is  so  well  known  in  the  dramatick 
world,  and  who  defended  the  cha- 
racter  of  Dr.  Bentley  against  the 
attacks  of  the  Biiihop  oif  London, 
may  exclaim 

Dticendam  magnorufn  haud  unqwifn  in^ 
dignu*  avontm* 

From  the  grandson  of  Dr.  Bent- 
ley,  and  the  great  grandson  of  the 
Bishop  of  Peterborough,  literary 
abilities  might  be  naturally  expect- 
ed. 

But  these  we^e  not  the  only  ojf'- 
9ftring  which  Dr.  Bentley  left  be- 
hind him. 

**  Est  tibi  qu4t  nat9k  JKblmtheca  partt.^ 

Besides  his  ample  collections 
for  the  Greek  Testaments  and  Je- 
fom's  Latin  version,  he  left  an  Ho- 
mer, with  marginal  notes  and 
emendations,  preparatory  to  an  edi- 


tion which  hepropofled  to  publish  $ 
and  a  corrected  copy  of  the  Bishop 
of  Peterborough's  celebrated  book, 
I>e   LrgibuB     Jfaturtt.       Both    of 
these  t  are  intended  to  be  laid  be- 
fore the  publick.     Almost   all  his 
classical  authors  were  enriched  with 
his  manuscript  notes,  and  are  still 
in  the  possession  of  his  executor, 
Dr.  Ricliard  Bentley,  or  Mr.  Cum- 
berland,    From  one  of  these,  ia 
the   year    1T44,  Squire  procured 
Dr.  Bentley's  jinimadversionea  c« 
Plutarch's  treatise  De  Jgide^  et  Qm* 
ride,  and  by  the  consent  of  the  cxc- 
cTTtors,  incorporated  them  into  hk 
edition  of  that  piece,  with  these  of 
Markland  and  other  commentators. 
Many   of   these   corrections  hem 
tlie  genuine  mark  of  critical  sags- 
city,  which  Bentley  has  stamped  ii 
a  greater  or  less  degree  en  all  h» 
performances. 

In  1746,  among  the  prefaces  and 
deditations,  which  the  learned  Al- 
berti  prefixed  to  his  splendid  edi- 
tion of  Hcsycbius,  appeared  an  ine- 
dited  letter  written  by  Dr.  Bent- 
ley, in  the  year  1714,  to  >o1hi 
Christian  Biel,  at  Brunswick,  Dc 
Glona  aacria  in  Hesvckio  rnsitiius. 
This  is  a  Tcry  curious  and  valuable 
letter,  as  it  shews  the  great  advan- 
tages which  Bentley  derived  from 
this  lexicographer,  in  the  prosecu- 
tion of  his  studies,  and  at  what  an 
early  period  that  marked  atten- 
tion, and  extraordinary*  acntenea 
displayed  themselves,  which  shone 
forth  so  conspicuously  aflerAvanh 
in  all  our  critick's  philological  dia- 
quisttioiis. 

In  1760  Mr.  Horace  Walpolt, 
whose  singular  abilities  and  strenu- 
ous exertions  in  the  caii:ie  of  Hlcra- 
invc  are  auperiour  to  our  praise, 
printed,  at  Strawberry  hii!,  a 
splendid  edition  of  Lucan,in  quar- 
to, with  the  notes  and  corrections  of 

•  Biog".  Brit  pp.  244.  247. 


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J^XLVA. 


^r 


Dp.  Bcntlcy .  The  «uperin tendance 
of  the  press  was  committed  to  Mr. 
Xumbeiiand)  who  performed  his 
^rt  of  the  work  with  equal  learn- 
ing and  fidelity. 

The  publick  had  been  long  in 
possession  of  some  of  Bentley's 
annotations  on  Lucan,  which  were 
inserted  in  Ms  remarks  on  Collins* 
Preethinking.  This  work,  how- 
ever, added  a  fre^h  laui'el  to  his 
wreath,  as  he  has  restored  many 
passages  by  his  judicious  and  ele- 
gant corrections,  which  were  abso- 
iutely  uninlelligible,  and  elucidate 
ed  many  difficulties  by  his  acute - 
ness,  which  had  baffled  the  sagaci- 
;ty  of  former  annotators. 

Such,  are  the  particulars  which 
we  have  been  able  to  collect  con- 
cerning the  life  and  writings  of 
Dr.  Richard  Bcntley.  In  the 
mode  of  arrangement,  a  plan  has 
been  adopted  very  different  from 
that  which  the  ingenious  authors 
cof  the  Biografihia  Britanrdca  have 
pursued.  The  transactions  of 
liis  life,  and  the  account  of  his 
jprritings,  have  been  blended  in  the 
«ame  narrative.  For  the  publica- 
i^ions  of  an  author,  liRe  the  marches 
and  countermarches  of  a  general, 


form  the  chief  part  of  his  history^ 
and  ought  surely  never  to  be  sepa- 
pated  from  the  relation  of  private 
or  other  occurrences.  To  the  ac- 
counts of  this  great  man  which 
have  already  been  published  we 
have  added  many  particulars,  and 
have  ventured  to  intersperse  our 
narrative  with  critical  remarks  on 
his  different  works,  in  order  to 
render  it  more  worthy  the  atten- 
tion of  our  learned  readers.  B\it 
to  close  these  memoirs.  We 
shall  conclude  with  the  words 
with  which  the  learned  English- 
man, Toup,  finishes  his  Epiatola 
Critica  to  Bishop  Warburton : 
"  Atque  hie  finem  facio  vita  pro- 
lixiori  :  in  qua  si  quid,  ^ur- 
rente  rota,  inconsulte  aut  Intem- 
peranter  nimis,qui  mos  nostromm 
hominum  est,  in  Bentleium  nos- 
trum dixi  id  omne  pro  indicto  vc- 
lim  :  Bkntlkium  inquam,  Brit- 
annia nostrs  decus  immortale  :-^ 
quern  nemo  vituperai*e  ausit,  nisi 
fungus  ;  nemo  non  laudet>  ni3i 
Momus. 

**  0is  saltern  adcumulesa  donis,  ac  fuB- 

gurinani 
**  Munere."— - 

T.  T. 


For  the  Monthly  Anthology, 
SILVA. 

Inter  silvcu  Jcademi  qu^trere  veruifi.         Horn.. 
To  rang-e  for  truth  i^  Acadeinick  grove*. 


J^o.  22. 


VOLTAIRE. 

Of  this  most  di^ipguishedname 
'in  French  literature  we  may  say, 
many  have  written  better,  but  none 
^n  the  last  century  so  much.  Yet 
he  win  forever  be  exen>ptfrom  the 
common  fuie  of  such  authors, 
jthe  load  of  whose  indifferent  pror 
4uctions  weighs  down  and  ultir 
jnately  sinks  the  rest.  All  the 
|)ath8  of  Iparning  were  open  tp 


him,  and  we  are  not  therefore  to 
wonder,  that  in  some  his  progress 
was  short.  He  is  pefhaps  great- 
er in  poetry,  than  in  any  other 
of  his  undertakings  ;  yet  he  was 
much  jnferiour  to  many  of  his 
contemporaries  in  classical  eru- 
dition. But  the  charai  of  his  style 
delights  all,  whom  his  knowledge 
fidls  to  instruct.  When  he  ceases 
to  astonish  by  profundity,  he  cn» 


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6SS 


•ILYA. 


gages  by  lits  ingenuity.  Omnis 
Aristippum  decuit  color,  et  status, 
ct  res. 

In  our  country  he  is  best  known 
as  a  historian,  and  his  character 
may  be  quoted  with  advantage 
from  the  most  learned  of  histo- 
"  rians.  "  I  believe  that  Voltaire 
had  for  this  work,  (age  of  Louis 
'  XIV.)  an  advantage,  which  he  has 
seldom  enjoyed.  When  he  treats 
of  a  distant  period,  he  is  not  a  man 
to  turn  over  musty  monkish  wri- 
ters to  instruct  himself.  He  fol- 
lows some  compilation,  varnishes 
it  over  with  the  magick  of  his 
style,  and  produces  a  most  agreea' 
ble^  %ufierficial-f  inaccurate  /lerfor' 
tnayice.  But  there  the  informa- 
tion, both  written  and  oral,  lay 
within  his  reach,  and  he  seems  to 
have  taken  great  pains  to  consult 
it.  Without  any  thing  of  the 
majesty  of  the  great  historians,  he 
has  comprized  in  two  small  vol- 
umes a  variety  of  facts,  told  ill  an 
easy,  clear,  and  lively  style.  To 
this  merit  he  has  added  that  of 
throwing  aside  all  trivial  circum- 
stances, and  choosing  no  events, 
fsut  such  as  are  either  instructive 
or  entertaining."* 

WATER    SPOUTS. 

We  have  summer  and  winter 
6torms  in  Thomson,  and  many  a 
student  has  trembled  with  other 
dread,  than  of  his  tutor,  over  the 
description  of  the  tempest  in  ^n. 
I. ;  even  one  of  our  most  inter- 
esting poets  has  chosen  a  *<  Ship- 
wreck" for  his  subject,  and  adorn- 
ed it  with  every  aggravation  of 
misfortune,  and  every  charm  of 
language.  But  we  are  In  these 
cases  rather  interested  in  the  con- 
sequences, than  terrified  by  the 
instant  appearance  of  the  danger. 

•  Gibbon's  Miscel.  Works. 


What  poctick  picture  In  Homci, 
or  Virgil,  or  in  the  greatest  mas- 
ter of  the  terrifick,  Milton,  sur- 
passes, or  even  equals,  the  follow* 
ing  description  of  a  watcr-spout 

Oft,  while  wonder  thrill'dmy 

breast,  my  eyes 
To  heav'n  ^ve  seen  the  watrycohaa 

rise. 
Slender  at  first  the  subtle  fume  appciri, 
And  wreathing  round  and  roood  iti 

volume  rears, 
Thick  as  a  mast  the  vapour  sweDi  rti 

size  ; 
A  curling  whirlwind  lifts  it  to  the  sKw ; 
The  tube  now  straitens,  now  in  widtl 

extends, 
And  in  a  hov'ring cloud  its  summitcnds; 
Still  gulp  on  gulp  in  sucics  the  riling 

tide  J 
Till  now  the  tide,  with  cumbroui  wrwa 

supplied, 
Full  gorged,  and  black'mng,  spreidi, 

and  moves  more  slow, 
And  wa\ing  trembles  to  the  waves  U- 

Thus,  when  to  shun  the  sumincr'i  sal- 
try  beam*  ,. 

The  thirsty  heifer  seeks  the  coohnf 
stream,  ^  .         . 

The  eager  horsc-lcccb,  fixmg  on  tier 
lips. 

Her  blood  with  ardent  throat  aaiiaifi 

TiU  the  goJ^d  glutton,  swcU'd  bcH 
her  size,  j  i.  u  ind 

Drops  from  her  wounded  hold,  va 
bursting  dies.  ,  .   ... -^ 

So  bursts  the  cloud,  o'erioadcd  witn  w 

And  the  ^dash'd  ocean  8ttgg«"^J 

»—• 

AMERICAN  TBAVELLEBS- 

Foreign  travel  should  be  the  la«, 
and  therefore  must  be  an  impoi*' 
ant,  part  of  the  educauon  oij 
gentleman,  Though  it  doesjj 
strengthen  the  mind,  it  pu^Jf;  « 
from  the  disease  of  prejudic<^ 
inhaled  with  the  atmosphere  ^^ 
our  native  commuaity ;  ^"^^^j 
cannot  create  taste,  it  rehnes 
directs  it  ;  and  though  it  mj^ 
confirm  the  pioral  pnno^l^ 


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8ILYA. 


«H 


certainly    polishes  the  manners. 
Some  have  ascribed  to  it  miracu- 
lous power  upon  the  moral  consti- 
tution, rendering  the  foolish  wise, 
and  the  avaricious  munificent.  But 
the  authority    of  Horace  in    all 
questions  more  difficult  than  this, 
in  all  questions  where  knowledge 
of  human  nature    will  influence 
the  decision,  is  absolute.     Coeluntj 
non  anifnumy  mutant^  qtd  trans  mare 
currunt.    The  vicious  disposition 
is  never  changed  by  change   of 
place  ;   nor  will  he  ever  become 
profound^  who  is  originally  shal- 
low, though  he  pass  even  the  lim- 
its of  the  feme  of  Tully,  the  wa- 
ters of  the  Tigris,  or  the  clifls  of 
Caucasus.  Men  of  inferiour  minds 
may  often  be  rendered  serviceable 
by  sober  discipline,  at  home,  whose 
only  acquisition  from  travel  will 
be  to  make  their  folly  vivacious, 
mnd  their  ignorance  loud  and  con- 
ceited.    The  incongruous  vulgar- 
ities of  England  and  France,  of 
Italy  and  Germany  unue  in  many, 
like  the  colours    of  Harlequin's 
coat,   whose  dissimilarity    is    the 
more  conspicuous  from  their  jux- 
taposition. 

There  seems  to  have  been  little 
system  among  our  countrymen  in 
visiting  foreign  regions.  More 
have  gone  for  business  than  for 
health,  and  more  for  health  than 
for  information.  Few  have  been 
able  to  boast  more  than  the  least 
valuable  half  of  the  experience  of 
Ulysses,  Qui  morea  hondnum  nvul' 
torum  -vidit  et  urbea.  We  have 
sent  abroad  many  gentlemen,  but 
they  have  sometimes  on  thie  conti- 
nent of  Kurope  been  desirous  to 
pass  for  Englishmen  ;  because  A- 
merican  travellers  are  too  often  our 
sail6rs  brutal  ind  vicious,  or  factors 
indigent  and  illiterate.  The  Eng- 
lish have  been  coi^temptuously  de- 
nominated by  their  old  enemies  a 
Jiation  of  shopkeepers  \  and,  as  we 


are  descended  from  them,  and  are 
thought  to  have  degenerated,  the 
French  will  soon  call  us  a  com- 
munity of  hucksters.  The  notion 
often  entertained  of  us  is,  that, 
when  incited  by  prospect  of  gain, 
nothing  is  too  dangerous  for  us  to 
attempt,  nothing  too  infamous  for 
us  to  perform.  Hence  to  defraud 
a  trader  from  America  is  deemed 
more  a  trial  of  skill,  than  a  violation 
of  the  laws  of  morality. 

SIR   JOHN   DENHAM. 

O  could  I  flow  like  thee,  and  make  thy 
stream 

My  great  example,  as  it  is  my  theme  ! 

Though  deep,  yet  clear  ;  though  gen- 
tle, yet  not  dull ; 

Strong  without  rage  ;  without  o'erflow- 
ing,  full. 

Of  this  famous  passage,  to  which 
Dryden  has  nothing  equal,  and 
Pope  nothing  superiour,  Dr.  John- 
son has  an  excellent  criticism,  con- 
cluding in  this  remarkable  lan- 
guage..." It  has  beauty  peculiar  to 
itself,  an4  must  be  numbered  a- 
mong  those  felicities,  which  can- 
not be  produced  at  will  by  wit  and 
labour,  but  must  arise  unexpected- 
ly in  some  hour  propitious  to  po- 
etry." The  "  strength  of  Den- 
ham"  was  long  reverenced  by  our 
poets  ;  and  I  should  unwillingly  be- 
lieve, that  his  simplicity  of  lan- 
guage, which  always  accompanies 
energy  of  thought,  is  the  reason  of 
his  being  less  regarded,  than  for- 
merly. Pope's  "  Wimlsor  Forest" 
is  an  imitation  of  ^*  Cooper's  Hill ;" 
yet,  allhopgh  the  whole  compass 
of  English  descriptive  poetry  of- 
fers no  rival  to  the  picture  of  the 
Thames  in  about  forty  lines  of  the 
latter,  Pope  has  ten  readers,  where 
Denham  has  one. 

Translation,  which  now  com« 
poses  so  large  a  part  of  our  litera- 
ture, had  been  long  confined  in  the 
disgraceful  shackles  of  literal  es- 


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6S9 


•IITA. 


Actneas.  VofaUfiful  inter/irettr  in 
England*  spuming  the  fear  of  his 
{pedagogue,  had  yet  dared  to  fol- 
low the  dictate  of  reason  and  the 
IKlvice  of  Horace,  ^^€C  verbum  verbQ 
curabU  reddere^  before  Denham 
pointed  the  way.  He  gives  the 
perfect  eulogy  of  a  perfect  trans- 
lator in  a  single  line,  «  True  to  l\is 
sense,  but  truer  to  his  fame." 

No  poet,  ancient  or  modem, 
whose  subject  was  not  chosen  ex- 
pressly to  afford  moral  and  reli- 
gious instruction,  has  so  many 
ethical  axioms  ;  and  his  advice  is 
better  on  politicks,  than  any  other 
theme.  The  mention  o{  Magna 
Charta  leads  bim  into  the  causes 
of  the  civil  wars,  and  he  may  be 
considered  as  prophesying  in  al- 
most every  line.  His  master 
Charles  had  good  reason,  soon  af- 
ter, to  think, 

Who  pves  constrain'd,  but  his  ovn  fear 

revilci, 
J^ot  thank'd,  but  scom'd ;  nor  are  they 

gifts,  but  spoils. 

The  futility  of  the  royal  artifices, 
mnd  the  insanity  and  violence  of  the 
popular  party,  are  finely  illustrated. 

When  a  calm  river,  rais'd  by  sudden 

rains. 
Or  snows  dissoVd,  o'crflows  th?  ad- 
joining plains, 
The  husbandmen  with  high-raifi*d  banks 

secure 
Their  greedy  hopes,  and  this  he  can 

endure  ; 
But  if  with  bays  and  dams  they  strive 

to  force 
His  channel  to  a  new,  or  narrow  course, 
'No  longer  then  within  his  banks  he 

dwells. 
First  to  a  torrent,  then  a  deluge  swells ; 
Stronger  and  fiercer  by  restraint  he 

roars, 
dnd  hiom  no  bound,  but  nuUet  kU  power 

bit  Mhoret. 

LOTTERIES. 

To  all  lotteries  I  am  opposed, 
•s  it  seems  certain,  they  must  have 
an  injurious  effect  upon  tke  pub- 


Uck  morals.  The  ineani  aw 
within  every  man's  reach  of  oU 
taining  a  prize,  superiour  to  aoy 
reward  of  talents,  or  remunerauop 
of  many  years  industry.  Many  aa 
apprentice  is  tempted  to  pilfer 
from  his  master's  counter,  many 
a  chambermaid  improves  opporr 
tunities  for  stealing  with  impunity, 
and  many  a  labourer  cheats  hu 
family  of  their  bread,  to  adventun 
upon  the  ocean  of  chance  in  hope 
of  immense  profit,  which  will  rear 
der  such  practices  unnecessary  is 
future.  All  private  lotteries  are 
forbidden  under  heavy  pcnaluc% 
and  if  publick  ones  only  render 
the  evil  of  g^aming  more  extensive, 
why  are  they  allowed  ?  \i  is  thi 
meanest  way  a  legislature  ever 
pursues  of  layings  a  tax.  Hundreds 
of  gambling  houses  are  licensed 
in  Paris  and  pay  large  gratuitici 
to  the  corrupt  government,  that 
encourages  them  ;  .thousands  of 
the  strumpets  also  are  employed, 
as  spies,  and  Talleyrand  would 
never  dimmish  their  numbers  or 
their  utility.  But  I  hope  the  per: 
verse  policy  of  France  will  nev^ 
be  adopted  here. 

AMERICAN   LITERATURE. 

A  taste  for  the  belles  lettres  if 
rapidly  spreading  in  our  country. 
We  have  indeed  (ew  profound 
scholars  in  any  branch  of  science  j 
but,  so  far  as  it  subserves  the  gen? 
eral  amusement  of  life,  so  for  ai 
}t  enlivens  conversation  and  lc«r 
sens  the  tedium  vita^  reading  «« 
not  lejs  attended  to  in  Americi, 
than  in  any  other  part  oi  the 
world.  I  believe,  that,'  fifty  yc*" 
ago,  England  had  never  seen  s 
miscellany  or  a  renew,  so  well 
conducted,  as  our  Anthology,  how- 
ever superiour  such  publications 
may  now  be  in  that  kingdom. 
Shakespeare's  Merchant  of  ^  ^' 
nice  was  altered  by  George  Grai^ 


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ilLTA. 


63^1 


irllle,  and  called  the  Jew  of  Ve- 
nice. The  English  nation  tolei^a- 
ted  this  disgraceful  substitution, 
till  near  the  middle  of  the  last  cen- 
tury, and  the  prologue  was  spoken 
by  the  ghosts  of  Shakespeare  and 
Dryden,  who  ascended  from  be- 
neath the  stage,  crowned  with 
laurel.  The  prologue-writer  com- 
plimented the  taste  of  the  commu- 
nity by  making  the  representative 
of  the  great  dnimatick  bard  speak 
thus  : 

These  scenes  in  their  rough   native 

dress  were  mine  ; 
But  now,  iraprored,  with  nobler  lustre 

sliine. 
The  first  rude  sketches  Shakespeare's 

pencil  drew. 
But  all  tlie  aluning  master-strokes  are 

new. 
This  play,  ye  criticks,  ihall  your  fury 

stand, 
AdMii'd  and  resetted  by   a   faultless 

hand. 

COWPER 

Is  the  roost  popular  poet  in  our 
language.  His  favourable  recep- 
tion is  owing  to  no  adventitious 
circumstances,  which  frequently 
raise  into  general  celebrity  writers, 
that  will  never  afterwards  be  re- 
membered. His  is  the  language 
of  nature,  delivered  more  faithful- 
ly, than  were  ever  the  responses 
of  the  oracle  by  the  priestess  of 
Delphos,  *<  From  grave  to  gay, 
from  lively  to  severe,*'  all  are 
charmed  with  Cowper.  Yet  he 
indulges  in  no  personal  satire,  and 
why  does  he  please  the  censoiious? 
He  despises  the  artifices  of  fashion, 
and  why  is  he  the  favounte  of  the 
dissipated,  and  the  thoughtless  ? 
No  one,  of  any  mental  refinement, 
is  so  corrupt,  so  remote  from  the 
limplicity  of  reason  and  of  truth, 
as  not  to  peruse  the  Task  with  de- 
light.    His  moral  lectures  are  re- 


ceived without  jealousy,  and  obey- 
ed without  repugnance.  Though 
only  called  « to  dress  a  sofa  with 
the  flow-ers  of  verse,"  he  has  hap- 
pily deviated  to  adorn  every  sub- 
ject of  general  interest.  It  is  a 
perpetual  episode.  His  wit  is  of- 
ten epigrammatick,  like  that  of 
Young,  without  his  seventy.  The 
reflections,  with  which  he  con- 
cludes the  description  of  the  im- 
mense palace  of  ice,  built  by  the 
empress  of  Russia,  I  have  heard 
cited  by  a  lady,  as  a  fine  instance 
of  simplicity,  though  glowing  with 
antitheses. 

Alas  ?  'twag  but  a  ftiortifying  stroke 
Of  undesigned  Severity,  that  glanc*d 
(  Made  by  a  monarch)  on  her  own  estate^ 
On  human  grandeur  and  the  courts  of 

kings. 
Twas  transient  in  its  nature,  as  in  show 
*Twas  durable  ;   as  worthless,  as  it 

seem'd 
Intrinsically  precious  ;  to  theibot 
Treacherous  and  false  ;  it  tnUl^d,  and 

it  V3(u  cold. 

Gowper'a  versioti  of  Homer  will 
only  serve  as  a  beacon  to  wam  fii^ 
ture  adventurers.  It  can  only  be 
read  by  those,  who,  acquainted  witk 
the  original,  wish  to  ci>serve,  how^ 
in  transfusing  every  thing  wiUi  ex- 
actness from  the  ancients,  nothing 
wiH  be  gained  by  the  modems. 
The  effulgence  of  the  Grecian 
bard, «  dark  with  excessive  bright," 
oX-erpowered  the  mortal  vision  of 
Cowper.  He  offers  us  only  the 
inanimate  skeleton,  the  bones  and 
the  muscles  of  Homer,  in  thek* 
terrifick  nakedness,  and  for  thi» 
we  were  to  surrender  the  breathing 
image  from  the  hands  of  PopO) 
arrayed  in  his  appropriate  robe8> 
and  glowing  with  the  lumen  /tir- 
fiurtum  of  eternal  youth. 


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isa 


UraEST  or  the  rights  of!/ 


To  the  Editor*  of  the  Anthology. 

CBNTLEMSW, 

llaving  lately  examined  the  ancient  laws  of  this  State,  relative  to  the  constitutloi 
and  rights  of  churches  in  the  town  of  Boston,  and  reduced  them  into  a  digest^ 
I  suhmit  it  to  you  for  insertion,  provided  you  shall  not  deem  it  incompatibli 
with  the  object  of  your  useful  miscellany^  Antiqcabibi. 

THE   RIGHTS  OF   PROTESTANT   CHURCHES  IN  THE  TOWM  Of  BOSTO.V. 


TO  constitute  a  body  corporate, 
it  is  not  necessary  that  there  should 
be  a  formal  act  of  incorporation. 
For  if  any  body  of  nlen  arc,  by  the 
supreme  autliority  of  the  state,  re- 
cognized as  such,  it  will  be  a  vir- 
tual act  of  incorpoFjEition.  In  the 
early  settlement  of  this  common- 
wealth, so  unrefined  were  the  in- 
habitants in  their  legal  notions, 
that  districts  were  constituted  and 
invested  with  municipal  rights  by 
a  single  order  of ,  the  governour 
and  assistants  of  the  colony,  that 
they  should  be  called  by  certain 
names.  There  is  no  other  act  of 
incorporation  for  the  towns  of  Bos- 
ton, Salem,  Ipswich,  and  most 
-others  in  the  commonwealth.  In 
considering  the  rights  of  the  chur- 
ches in  Boston,  we  shall  have  oc- 
casion to  notice  the  above  princi- 
•ple,  as  none  of  them  have,  until 
very  lately,  b«en  incorporated  into 
distinct  religious  communities  by 
special  acts  of  the  government. 

The  congregations  in  Boston 
are  invested  with  rights  and  im- 
munities, which  have  descended 
entire  through  successive  genera- 
tions. Now  where  a  body  of  men 
do  possess  certain  rights,  which 
they  can,  under  a  general  name 
and  in  their  united  capacity,  le- 
gally maintain,  which  rights  have 
descended  to  them,  but  will  not 
die  with  them  ;  they  are  corpora- 
tions, "  maintaining  a  perpetual 
succession  and  enjoying  a  kind  of 
legid  immortality."  As  for  the 
^gin  of  these  communities;  they 


may  claim  corporate  rights  both 
from  fireacrifition  and  by  implica- 
(ion  from  acts  of  the  colonyj  prov- 
ince, and  commonwealth.  They 
have  names,  by  which  they  arc 
distinguished  from  each  other,the7 
tiiay  raise  monies,  they  may  sue 
and  be  sued,  and  they  may  do  aH 
legal  acts,  which  may  be  done  by 
other  artificial  persons. 

In  these  communities  there  are 
several  distinct  corporate  bodies, 
each  known  in  law,  and  having  JB 
peculiar  rights  and  duties;  vu. 
1.  The  Church.  2.  The  Minister. 
3.  The  Deacons,  and,  in  episcopal 
churches,  Church  Wardens.  Afld 
.4.  the  Proprietors  of  Pews. 

1.  The  Church.  By  a  law  of 
the  colony,*  passed  in  1641,  it  is 
declared,  that  «  all  the  people  of 
.God  within  the  ♦jurisdiction,  who 
are  not  in  a  church  way,  and  be 
orthodox  in  judgment,  and  not 
scandalous  in  life,  shall  have  lib' 
erty  to  gather  themselves  into  a 
church  estate,  provided  tbey  do  it 
in  a  christian  way,'*  But  it  adds* 
«  that  the  General  Court  will  not 
approve  of  any  such  companies  of 
men,  as  shall  join  in  any  pretended 
way  of  church-fellowship,  unless 
they  shall  acquaint  three  or  more 
magistrates  dwelling  next,  and  the 
ciders  of  the  neighbour  churches, 
where  they  intend  to  join,  and 
have  their  approbation  therein. 
In  the   same  law   it  is  enacted, 

•  Laws  and  Liberties  of  tlie  Coloty 
of  Maasachufetts,  43. 


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raotisTAirr  churcmbs  in  bostoh. 


d3» 


«•  that  every  chnrch  hath  free  lib- 
erty of  election  and  ordination  of 
all  her  officers  from  time  to  time, 
provided  they  be  able,  pious,  and 
orthodox.  By  the  expression  ^  the 
church,"  is  here  meant,  according 
to  a  definition  thereof  contained  in 
a  law  passed  in  1 660,*  such  as  are 
in  full  communion  only."  The 
teaching  officer  is  intended,  <^  the 
ttiinister  to  all  the  people  where 
the  church  is  planted."  All  in- 
habitants, who  were  not  in  full 
communion,  were  excluded  from 
any  right  in  the  choice,  and  if  any 
one  such  should  presume  to  act 
therein,  he  was  accounted  a  dis- 
turber of  the  peace,  and  might  be 
punished  by  the  court  of  the  shire, 
by  admonition,  security  for  good 
behaviour,  fine,  or  imprisonment, 
according  to  the  aggravation  of 
the  offence.  The  church  is  in- 
vested with  liberty  to  admit,  re- 
commend, dismiss,  expel,  or  dis- 
pose of  its  officers  and  members 
for  due  cause  :  to  assemble  when 
it  pleases,  and  to  exercise  all  the 
ordinances  of  God,  according  to 
the  scriptures  :  to  deal  with  its 
members,  who  are  in  the  hands  of 
jtistke,but  not  to  retard  its  course: 
and  even  with  the  civil  magistrate, 
**  in  case  of  apparent  and  just  of- 
fence given  in  his  place,"  but  not 
to  degrade  him  from  his  office  or 
dignity  in  the  commonwealth. 

The  government  of  the  colony 
consisted,  in  those  early  periods, 
of  a  roiritual  and  a  temporal  pow* 
tr.  It  was  usual  to  consult  with 
the  elders  of  the  churches  in  af- 
fairs of  a  civil  nature,t  relating  to 
the  irrstitution  of  laws,  and  the 
conduct  of  publick  affairs.  And 
in  1642,  it  was  ordered,  that  the 
publick  treasurer  should  defray  the 

^  LfNrs  and  Liberties,  0ec.  p.  43. 
t  lb.  p.  44. 

VoL  111.  No.  13.        4H 


charges  of  the  elders,  when  they 
were  employed  by  the  order  of  the 
General  Court.  It  is  to  this  cir-* 
cumstance,  that  we  must  attribute 
the  incorporating  of  so  many  of 
the  provisions  of  the  Levitical  law 
into  the  jurisprudence  of  the  early 
period  of  the  state. 

In  the  choice  of  the  ministersf 
the  church  were  originally  the 
sole  electors  ;  but  for  more  thaa 
a  century  past,  it  has  been  an  es- 
tablished rule  in  the  town  of  Bos- 
ton, and  in  the  other  towns  of  the 
commonwealth,  that  all  who  con*' 
tribute  to  their  support,  shall  have 
a  voice  in  their  election.  By  a  law 
passed  in  the  4  and  5  of  W.  and  M.,^ 
it  is  declared,  that  whenever  » 
church  is  destitute  of  a  minister^ 
such  church  is  invested  with  pow- 
er to  choose  one.  If  the  major 
part  of  such  of  the  inhabitants,  as 
usually  attend  publick  worship,  and 
are  qualified  by  law  to  vote  in  town^ 
afFairs,5  with  whom  likewise  the 
members  of  the  church  may  vote,< 
shall  concur  with  the  act  of  the 
church,  and  tf.e  person  elected 
shall  accept  thereof,  he  becomes 
the  minister,  to  whose  support  all 
the  inhabitants  and  rateable  estates 
are  obliged  to  contribute.  In  case 
of  a  disagreement  between  the 
church  and  the  inhabitants,  the* 
former  may  call  in  the  help  of  a 
council,  consisting  of  the  elders 
and  messengers  of  three  or  five 
neighbouring  churches.  This 
council  is  empowered  to  hear,  ex- 
amine, and  consider  the  exceptions 
and  allegations  made  against  the 
election  of  the  churches.*  If  they 
should  approve  of  the  choice,  and 
^e  person  elected  should  declare 
his  acceptance,  he  became  the  min- 
ister of  the  society  to  all  intentay 

t  Prov.  Laws,  p.  33. 

I  lb.  p.  62.       ^  7  W.  in.    lb.  p.  ^ 


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434- 


RIOHTS  OF   PROTESTANT  CRUliCHBS 


and  entitled  to  be  supported  by 
the  palish.  But  the  act  of  4  and 
5  of  W.  and  M.,  which  applies  to 
the  towns  and  parishes  throughout 
the  commonwealth,  expressly  pro- 
vides, that  it  shall  not  "abridj^e 
the  inhabitants  of  Boston  of  their 
accustomed  way  and  practice  as  to 
the  choice  and  luaiiiteuanceof  their 
ministers."  Each  society  in  this 
town  should,  when  proceeding  to 
ehoose  a  minister,  ascertain  and 
pursue  the  ancient  firactic^,  if  it 
has  followed  any  one  mode  in  pre- 
ference to  another,  from  which  it 
is  presumed  it  would  be  illegal  to 
depart,  in  respect  of  the  rights, 
which,  by  the  choice  and  accep- 
tance, rest  in  the  minbter. 

By  a  law  of  the  province,  passed 
38  Geo.  II.  and  re-enacted*  in  part 
by  this  commonwealth,  Feb.  20. 
1786,  churches  are  constituted  cor- 
porations to  receive  donations,  to 
choose  a  committee  to  advise  the 
deacons  in  the  administration  of 
their  affairs,  to  call  the  church  of- 
ficers to  an  account^  and,  if  need 
be,  to  commence  and  prosecute 
any  suits  touching  the  same. 

2.  The  Minister.  The  minis^ 
ters  of  the  several  protestant 
churches,  of  whatever  denomina- 
tion, are  made  capable  of  taking, 
In  succession,  any  parsonage  land 
or  lands,  granted  to  the  minister 
and  his  successors,  or  to  the  lise 
of  the  ministers,  and  of  suing  and 
defending"  all  actions  touching  the 
same.  But  no  alienation  by  them 
of  such  lands,  is  valid  any  longer, 
than  they  shall  continue  to  be  min- 
isters, unless  it  be  with  the  consent 
of  the  town,  district,  or  precinct,... 
or,  if  such  ministers  are  of  the 
episcopal  denomination,  with  the 
consent  of  the  vestry. 

2,  Deacons  and  Church -War- 
dens.  By  the  ^ddnc  act^tlie  deacons 


of  the  congregational  churches,  ant^ 
the  church -wardens  of  the  episco' 
pal  churches,  are  constituted  cor- 
porations, including  the  roin'ister, 
elders,  or  vestry,  where  they  arc 
named  in  the  original  grant,  to  take 
in  succession  all  grants  and  dona- 
tions, real  or  personal,  made  either 
to  their  several  churches,  the  poor 
of  their  churches,  or  to  theiu  and 
their  successors  ;  and  to  sue  and 
defend  in  all  actions  touching  the 
same.  But  they  cannot  alienate 
any  lands  belonging  to  churches, 
without  the  consent  of  the  church, 
or  of  the  vestry^  where  the  gift  i* 
to  an  episcopal  church. 

4.  Proprietors  of  Pews.  Prior 
to  the  year  1754,  the  several  con- 
gregations in  Boston  could  not>  by 
law,  raise  money  for  the  support  of 
tlic  ministry  and  publick  worship 
among  thcHi.*  It  was  therefore 
enacted  by  tke  same  law,  that  the 
proprietors  of  the  pews,  or  the  per- 
sons to  whom  they  are  allotted  io 
the  houses  of  publick  worshipr 
may,  at  a  publick  meeting  to  be 
called  for  tliat  purpose,  cause  the 
several  pews  in  such  houses  to  be 
valued  according  to  the  conven- 
ience of  their  situation  ;  and  new 
valuations  to  be  made  from  tiroc 
to  time,  as  shall  be  found  necessa- 
ry, and  impose  a  tax  on  each  peW 
accordhig  to  such  valuation,  pro- 
vided it  shall  not  exceed  two  siiil- 
lings  a  week.  The  monies  so 
raised  must  be  applied  to  the  sup- 
port of  the  ministry,  and  other  pa- 
rochial charges.  The  proprietors 
are  authorised  to  choose  a  clerk, 
ti^easurer,  and  likewise  a  collector 
of  the  assessments.  Reference  is 
made  in  this  act  to  a  committee  of 
the  proprietors,  which  may,  there- 
fore, be  chosen  at  such  meeting;* 
ITicse  meetings  are  to  be  called 
by  the  propjietors'  clerk,  deaconst 


•  Pt»T.  Lawi,370.  Mass.  Laws,  282.         •  Prov.  Laws*  oTL 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


IN  THE   TOWN   OF   BOSTOK. 


655 


©r  chiirch-wardcTJs,  and  notice  im- 
mediately after  difine  service  g^v- 
cn  ten  tkys,  kt  least,  before  the 
meeting.  In  the  notice,  the  pur- 
pose for  which  the  meeting  is  toi^e 
convened,  must  be  specified. 

If  any  owner  of  a  pew  shoirld 
neglect  for  three  months,  after  a 
demand  made,  to  pay  his  assess- 
ment, his  pew  may  be  sold  by  the 
proprietors,  who,  after  deducting 
from  the  proceeds,  the  debt  and 
and  costs,  shaTI  roirum  the  surplus 
to  the-owner,  ivnless  he  shall  ten- 
der the  same  to  the  proprietors,  or 
to  their  committee,  at  the  last  val- 
uation. In  this  case,  if  they  refuse 
or  neglect  to  accept  the  same,  no 
sum  shall  be  deducted  out  of  the 
sale  of  the  pew,  but  such  only  as 
became  due  prior  to  the  tender. 

The  proprietors  of  the  pews  j^re 
owners  of  the  soil  on  wliich  tlv; 
meeting-house  stands,  and  are  the 
rightful  persons  to  sue  and  defend 
Ad  all  cases  respecting  the  same^ 
and  likewise  iu  all  cases  respecting 
the  hovise. 

Where  the  general  laws  of  the 
commonwealth,  relating  to  parish- 
es, apply  to  the  societies  in  Boston, 
•  they  may  avail  themselves  of  them. 
Because  they  jire  general,  and 
contain  no  exclusive  expressions. 
Where  those  laws  do  not  apply, 
they  are  not  obligatory.  Parishes 
in  the  cpuntry  towns  are  in  general 
separated  from  each  other  by  boitli- 
dary  lines.  Where  in  a  town  any 
district  has  been  set  oft*  into  a  new 
parish,  the  remaining  part  is  de- 
nominated the  "  first  parish,"  and 
by  an  act,  passed  in  the  4  Geo.  I.* 
all  country  parishes  arc  invested 
with  the  rights  and  immunities  of 
bodies  corporate,  whether  they  coa- 
stitute  the  o»'i.j;;inal  stock,  or  are 
J)ranches  from  it. 


This  subject  has  been  considered 
without  reference  to^he  law  which 
was  passed  March  4,  1800,t  pro- 
viding for  the  publick  worship  of 
God,  and  repeaimg  the  laws  here- 
tofore made  on  the  subject.  The 
first  section  of  thatiaw  confirms  to 
churches,  connected  and  associated 
m  publick  worship  with  towns,  par- 
ishes, precincts,  cHsti-icts,  and  other 
bodies  politick,  being  religious  so- 
cieties, established  according  to  law 
within  this  commomvcalth,  all  their 
accustomed  privileges  and  liberties 
respecting  divine  worship,  church- 
order,  and  discipline.  It  declares 
thatcontracts,made  by  these  bodies 
with  any  publick  teacher,  shall 
have  the  same  force,  and  be  as  ob- 
ligatory on  the  contracting  parties, 
as  any  other  lawful  contract,  and 
be.sustained  in  tlie  courts  of  juslice. 
It  prescribes  the  mode,  in  which 
the  monies,  paid  hy  the  subject  to 
the  support  of  publick  worship, 
shall  be  applied  to  the  use  of  the 
teacher  of  his  own  denomination. 
It  provides,  that  notlrtng  in  the  act 
shall  take  from  any  chuixh  or  re^ 
li^;ious  society  in  Boston,  or  any 
other  town,  the  right  and  liberty  to 
support  ,the  publick  worsl'ip  of 
God,  by  a  tax  on  pews,  or  other 
estabfished  mode.  And  lastly,  it 
repeals  all  laws,  providing  for  the 
settlement  of  ministers,  ai.d  the 
support  of  publick  worship,  made 
prior  to  the  adoption  of  oiu*  present 
constitution,  except  as  to  the  re- 
covery of  fines  which  had  aocnied, 
and  the  fulnlment  of  contracts 
made  under  them.  This  act  was 
probably  drawn  up  by  some  one, 
wi^o  was  not  well  acquainted  with 
the  andent  laws  reh'tive  to  the 
subject,  for  such  construction  must 
be  given  to  tl/is  repeaiinjj;  clause, 
;is  will  very  much  linut  its  opera*- 


*  Pi-ov.  Laws,  J98, 


fMasg^  Laws,  931.  Sec, 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


€H 


VKtTlliNfTfili'«C960r'P 


tion.  I.  The  rigbts  and  privileges 
which  had  been  vested  in  the  several 
religious  commuLities>  still  remain 
in  them,  by  virtue  of  the  first  sec- 
tion of  the  law,  which  amounts  to 
an  act  of  confi  r mation.  Therefore, 
the  rights  of  the  churches,  to  lead 
in  the  election  of  ministers,  and  of 
other  officers,  and  to  maintain  or- 
der and  discipline,  where  they  have 
been  accustomed  to  exercise  and 
enjoy  those  rights,  still  remain  in 
them.  2.  The  established  mode 
in  which  the  societies  in  Boston 
have  supported  publick  worship,  is 


likewise  preserved,  together  witi^ 
the  rights  of  the  several  bodiei 
politick,  of  which  they  sre  com« 
posed.  If  there  is  any  thing  ii| 
those  old  laws,  as  undoubtedly 
there  is,  which  is  repugnant  to  th9 
provisions  of  this  act,  it  is  repealed. 
For  it  is  a  rule  in  the  coDstructi(fli 
of  a  clause  in  a  statute,  that  it  is 
to  be  taken  with  the  other  parts  of 
the  statute,  and  to  be  restrained  or 
enlarged  by  them,  so  as  to  give,  if 
possible,  that  foi;£e  and  efficacy  to 
the  whole,  which  was  intended  bf 
the  legislature. 


For  the  Anthology, 

ACCOUVT  OF  WESTMIVSTBR^CHOOL— -OF  ITS  FOUNDATION,  MASTIBI, 
USHERS,  PRESENT  METHOD  OF  INSTRUGTIOK,  EXPENSES  OF  £I>U- 
CATION,    Sec.  &C. 


The  question  of  the  superiority 
of  private  over  publick  education 
has  of  late  been  obtruded  upon  us 
in  various  shapes,  till  at  length  ev- 
ery one  has  been  tired  of  attend^ 
ing  to  an  argument  which  no  dis- 
cussion, however  frequent,  had  ad- 
vanced nearer  to  decision ;  and  each 
determines  it  at  present  accord- 
ing to  his  own  prejudices,  or,  if  he 
has  any  children,  by  a  wiser  way, 
according  to  the  disposition,  or 
presumed  capacity,  of  his  own 
boy. 

The  two  questions  of  most  im- 
portance with  those  resolutely  bent 
against  the  method  of  publick  ed- 
ucation seem  to  be,  an  apprehen- 
sion for  the  morals  of  their  chil- 
dren, and  a  dread  of  the  enormity 
of  the  expense.  Whatever  relates 
to  the  former  part  of  this  question 
should  be  examined  with  coolntss, 
and,  as  far  as  possible,  be  deter- 
mined without  leaving  behind  a 
shadow  of  doubt  ;  what  respects 
the  latter,  I  hope  to  prove  to  the 
satisfaction  of  any  impailial  man 
M    totally    groundless  :    publibk 


schools  are  not  only  lesscxpeiH 
sive  than  our  present  system  of 
private  education,  but  the  rcmu« 
neration  to  the  masters  from  eacfc 
boy  is  so  small,  that  I  am  fearful 
lest  some  gndns  of  contempi 
should  adhere  to  them,  foriub- 
mitting  to  a  drudgery  so  truly  shs 
vish,  for  rewards  so  comparadrely 
inadequate. 

That  the  provision  for  rcligiooi 
education  at  Westminster-school  U 
far  from  what  has  been  reprc8ent» 
ed,  is  proved  by  the  late  learned 
and  venerable  master,  under  whom 
the  writer  of  these  present  obser- 
vations is  proud  to  say  he  himself 
received  his  education.  Facts, un^ 
questionable  facts,  have  been  sub* 
mittcd  to  the  publick,  who  have 
received  and  judged  the  questioQ 
with  such  deliberate  candour,  tM 
little  encouragement  has  bcengiv* 
en  to  any  writer  on  tlie  contraff 
bide,  since  it  seemed,  as  it  really 
was,  impossible  to  overturn  wha^ 
was  advanced  with  such  cogency 
of  argument  and  strength  of  tetf- 
mony. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


M^  ESTHf  (VST]»l-f  C  BOOt  * 


esr 


As  I  presume  it  is  the  object  of 
your  Magawne  to  discuss  all  ques- 
tions of  general  utility,  that  of  ed- 
ucation must  necessarily  force  it- 
self upon  you  with  a  kind  of  pre- 
scriptive claim  :  I  shall,  therefore, 
require  of  you  to  submit  to  your 
readers  the  following  account  of 
tiie  most  illustrious  publick  semi- 
nary in  Great-Briton.  I  trust  it 
will  correct  some  errours  into 
which  many  men  of  good  inten- 
tions have  fallen,  and  give  them  a 
complete  idea  of  a  system  of  edu- 
cation which  their  ancestors  estab- 
lished, revered,  and  supported, 
for  more  than*  two  centuries  from 
the  present  age.  The  method  of 
instruction  is  but  in  a  few  triRing 
particulars  different  from  what  it 
then  was.  We  are  compelled  to 
a  rigid  observance  of  pur  statutes ; 
and  if  we  sometimes  differ  from  the 
letter,  the  s^Mrit  is  universally  pre- 
»ervcd. 

I  confess  myself  unable  to  trace 
the  e:^act  aera  in  which  Westmin- 
ster-school was  founded  ;  that  in 
the  antiquity  of  its  origin  it  sur- 
passes all  other  seminaries  in  G. 
Britain,  is  universally  acknow- 
ledged ;  but  as  the  precise  year  of 
its  institution  has  puzzled  many  an- 
tiquaries, I  may,  at  least,  be  allowed 
to  avoid  a  question  so  dark  and  in- 
tricate. It  has  been  thought  coeval 
with  the  endowment  of  St.  Peter's 
collegiate  church,  commonly  called 
Westminster  Abbey.  This  was 
originally  a  monastick  institution, 
and  is  permitted,  I  believe,  to  claim 
for  its  first  founder,  William  Rufus. 

In  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth, 
when  the  rich  and  overgrown  mo- 
nasteries presented  a  tempting  bait 
to  a  king,equally  covetous  and  pro- 
fuse, the  spoil  of  Westminster  Ab- 
bey, among  the  rest,  did  not  escape. 
his  rapacity.  The  time  was  now 
^vourJEdsle  for  the  utmost  violence 
ttf  inopvatioiu    The  monks  were 


held  by  the  secular  clergy  in  pro^ 
found  detestation  ;  the  laity  had 
lost  all  respect  both  for  them  and 
their  institutions,  in  the  notorious 
profligacy  of  their  characters,  and 
the  atrocious  enormity  of  their  vi» 
ces.     Henry  had  but  this  last  and 
fatal  blow  to  give  to  their  patron 
at  Rome,  at  once  to  tear  up  by  the 
root  the  most  stedfast  hold  of  hiai 
authority  in  that   kingdom,   and 
complete  his  vengeance  to  the  full. 
Most  of  them  fell  without  a  strug- 
gle, and  with  but  ineffectual  ap- 
peals for  mercy.    But  to  overthrow 
an  establishment  like  that  of  West-> 
minster  Abbey,  at  once  so  opulent, 
so  ancient,  and  so  long  esteemed 
sacred  ;  which  had  to  boast  kings 
for  its  founders  and  benefactorSf 
and  in  whose  walls  the  ceremony 
of  coronation  had  for    centuries 
been  performed,  appeared  so  evi- 
dently hazardous,  that  the  rapacity 
of  the  monarch  for  once  yielded  to 
the  necessity  of  the  case^  and  it 
was  spared  a  total  dissolution.    On 
the  surrender  of  the  abbots  and 
monks,  the  king  converted  it  into 
a  cathedral.     It  did  not  even  long 
ret^  this  form,  since  the  see  was 
dissolved  by  Edward  the  Sixth,  and 
the  college  restored  ;  and,  on  tho 
accession  of  Mary,  it  again  resum*^ 
ed  the  name  of  Westminster  Ab-^ 
bey,  with  some  small  portion  of  its 
original  endowments.     It  is,  how> 
ever,  indebted  to  Elizabeth  for  its 
present  institution.    That  princess 
founded  a  college^  which  is  the  pro* 
per  name  of  the  establishment,  ap« 
pointed  a  dean  and  twelve  preben- 
daries, with  numerous  petty   ca* 
nons,  and  instituted  a  school  for 
forty  boys,  who  are  called  by  the 
name  of  king's  scholars,  and  two 
masters. 

Dr.  Henry,  in  his  history  of 
Great-Britain,  has  attributed  tho 
foimdation  of  Westminster-school 
to  Henry  the  Eighth,  and  c(;rtain« 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


MS 


ITESTMIKSTEm-SCIIOOL* 


ly  not  with  his  usual  accurafcj. 
Ifigulphus,  the  famous  abbot  of 
Crowland,  who  flourished  in  the 
time  of  Edward  the  Confessor, 
speaks  of  his  being  brought  up  at 
Westminster-school  :  this  is  in- 
disputable authority  of  its  antiqui- 
ty. In  the  account,  however, 
which  I  propose  to  give  of  this 
illustrious  seminary,  I  do  not  in- 
tend losing  myself  in  any  antiqua- 
rian research,  but  to  dwell  with,  I 
hope,  a  pardonable  minuteness  on 
the  modem  form  of  its  institution, 
and  the  present  established  mode 
of  its  education.  I  shall  therefore 
difide  the  matter  of  my  considera- 
tion into  five  heads. — 1.  Of  the 
masters. — 2.  Of  those  who  are 
called  the  town  boys. — 3.  Of  the 
king's  scholars.— 4.  Of  the  books 
r.iad,  and  the  method  of  instruc- 
tion.-^5,  and  lastly,  Of  the  vaca- 
tions and  expenses  of  education  at 
this  seminary. 

Tl)is  establishment  has  at  prcs^ 
enttwo  masters  and  six  ushers. 
They  are  supported  partly  by  the 
funds  of  the  school,  and  partly  by 
what  i^  paid  by  the  /oww-diyt,  the 
king's  scholars  having  their  edu- 
cation, as  far  as  respects  any  gra- 
tuity to  the  masters,  free  of  all 
expense.  I  should  first  have  pre- 
mised, that,  for  distinction's  sake, 
there  is  an  upper  and  a  lower 
school  ;  there  is  no  separation  be- 
tween tlicm  otherwise  tlian  a 
bar,  which  runs  across  the  mid- 
dle of  a  very  large  room,  in 
which  all  the  boys  meet  togeth- 
er. From  this  bar  a  curtain  for- 
merly depended,  as  the  division 
between  the  two  schools,  but,  at 
pi^esent,  tliere  is  no  other  distinc- 
tion than  that  c  fthe  forms.  There 
are  seven  forms  or  classes  :  The 
lower  school  contains  three  ;  they 
are  as  follow  :  the  first  or  petty, 
the  second,  and  the  two  thirdsy  both 
luakiu^  one  form  together.      A 


form  is  divided  into  two  parts,  tht 
under  and  upper  parts  ;  the  boyi 
remain  six  months  in  each.  From 
the  under  part  to  the  upper  part  of 
a  form,  the  removal  is  of  course ; 
but,  when  a  boy  is  to  pass  onward 
from  a  lower  form  to  a  higher,  he 
is  said  to  "  to  stand  out  for  his  n* 
move*'  and  is  examined  as  to  his 
sufficiency  by  the  head  master,  in 
the  books  which  have  been  read  in 
the  form  he  is  about  to  leave.  Et- 
er)  form  has  its  usher,  except  the 
upper  third  in  the  lower  school, 
where  the  under  master  presides, 
and  the  sixth  and  seventh  in  the 
upper  school,  which  are  ufider  the 
superintendence  of  the  head  mas- 
ter. Every  boy  in  the  under  school 
pays  to  the  under  master  three 
guineas  a  year,  two  to  the  upper 
master,  and  a  guinea  to  the  usher 
of  his  form.  Every  boy  in  the 
upper  school  pays  five  guinea! 
yearly  to  the  upper  master,  and  a 
guinea  to  the  usher  of  his  form ; 
and,  should  he  leave  school  in  the 
sixth  or  seventh  form,  he  presents 
the  master  with  ten  guineas,  if  a 
towTirboy.  A  king's  scholar,  when 
he  leaves,  prescius  the  same  sum 
to  the  upper  master,  and  half  ai 
much  to  the  under  master ;  but 
this  is  merely  optional,  though 
never  omitted.  From  these  sou^ 
CCS  th.e  salaries  of  the  two  roasters 
are  derived,  with  what  is  appro- 
priated to  them  by  the  funds  of  the 
establishment.  They  have  both 
handsome  houses  bclongingto their 

*  office,  and  are  required  to  give 
their  attendance  in  school  every 
day  in  the  week,  Sunday  excepted; 
but  there  is  a  whole  holiday  twi 
every  saint's  day,  and  day  of  par- 
ticular commemoration,  and  a  bait 
holiday  every  Tuesday,  Thursday, 
and  Saturday.  It  must  not,  how- 
ever, be  hastily  cone  hided,  that  the 
boys  are  consequently  idle  f'^"' 
tiiese  numerous  holidays ;  thccoB^ 


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^SSTMIirSTSR^CiroOL. 


6lf 


tfary  is  the  case  :  they  are  bur- 
thcned  with  a  very  heavy  exercise 
on  every  half  holiday,  Tuesday  ex- 
cepted, which  they  are  required  to 
produce  in  the  morning  afterwards. 
And  I  can  assure  my  reader,  to 
escape  this  exercise,  they  would 
freely  go  without  their  half  holiday. 
The  hours,  therefore,  which  many, 
inllumed  with  an  ignorant  rancour 
against  publick  schools,  have  sup- 
posed devoted  to  idleness  and  play, 
are,  in  reality,  the  most  busy  and 
instructive  of  any  !  The  whole  af- 
ternoon of  the  half  holiday  is  spent 
in  Icibouwng  the  exercise  for  the 
next  morning,  which  is  first  done 
in  2Lfoid  6cok,  and  thence  copied 
on  a  half  sheet  of  paper,  and  pre- 
sented to  the  usher,  or  master,  be- 
fore breakfast  on  the  ensuing  day. 
It  is  for  want  of  examination  that 
publick  schools  are  accused  of  idle- 
ness. The  ushers,  as  I  have  be- 
ibre  said,  are  paid  partly  out  of 
the  funds,  which  are  not,  however, 
sufficient  for  their  support  ;  they 
have  a  guinea,  therefore,  yearly 
from  every  boy  in  the  form  to  which 
they  belong ;  and,  as  all  the  board- 
ing houses  must  necessarily  have 
an  usher  to  keep  peace  and  order 
among  the  boys,  he  obtains  the 
same  sum  from  each  belonging  to 
the  house  where  he  himself  re- 
sides; and  has  besides  many  other 
ways  of  augmenting  his  salary. 
The  ushers  are  generally  clergy- 
men, and  all  at  present,  I  believe, 
are  handsomely  provided  with 
church  livings,  or  are  fellows  of 
Trinity  College,  Cambridge.  They 
are  men  of  extensive  learning  and 
hi>>;h  respectability,  *  and,  without 
lessening  their*  authority,  live  on 
the  U)ost  friendly  terms  with  the 
boys. 

2d.  I  come  next  to  consider  the 
town  hoyfs,  I  must  define  them  by 
negntives.  They  are  such  as  are 
^ot  kind's  scholars)  who  arc   inde- 


pendent of  the  foundation,  and 
who  may  be  admitted  or  dismissed 
at  the  master's  pleasure.  They 
either  belong  to  boarding-housesy 
or,  if  their  friends  reside  near,  live 
at  their  own  homes,  aixi  then,  ex- 
cept in  school  houi*s,  are  not  sub- 
ject to  the  jurisdiction  of  the  mas- 
ters or  the  ushers,  which  the  boy» 
who  live  in  the  boarding-houses  are. 
In  every  respect  these  day  boya 
have  the  same  advantages  of  edu- 
cation with  the  rest,  and  may  pass 
through  tl>e  school,  and  obtain  all 
its  profits  for  the  moderate  sum  ef 
six  guineas  per  annum  !  These 
boys  are  held  in  equal  respecta- 
bility with  the  others  ;  there  b  no 
difference  that  I  know  of ;  and 
mauy  of  the  opulent  families  who 
reside  all  the  year  in  London,  pre- 
fer sending  their  children  in  this 
manner. — Never  after  this  let  us 
hear  of  the  expense  of  a  publick 
school  education  in  Great-Bii- 
tain. 

3.  I  now  come  to  tlie  kin^9 
9cholara.  This  foundation  is  very- 
different  from  that  of  any  other 
school.  They  are  forty  in  num- 
ber, and  are  supplied  by  an  annual 
election  from  the  town  boys.  Thus 
every  king's  scholar  mtist  necessa- 
rily have  been  a  town  boy,  though 
no  town  boy,  unless  chosen,  can  be 
a  king's  scholar.  Tlie  foundation 
draws  to  itself,  as  a  centre,  all  the 
talents,  the  industry,  and  respecta- 
bility of  the  whole  school.  It  is 
where  every  father  wishes  to  see 
his  son  ;  where  greater  attention 
is  paid  both  to  their  morals  and 
learning,  since  the  superintendence 
over  them  is  nccessiirily  more 
strict.  It  is  where  the  sons  of  the 
first  families  in  the  kingdom  have 
been  educated  ;  where  a  Busby 
trained  up  his  scholars  ;  whence 
Cowley,  Dryden,  Smith,  Halifax, 
and  all  the  illustrious  men  of  that 
age  isiiued,  and  whence   mo^t  of 


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li<CST>CIN8TeR-SC  Hoot. 


those  of  the  ftreaent  have  imbibed 
the  eatiy  seeds  of  education. 

Interest  forms  no  part  of  their 
introduction  into  the  college.  It 
is  open  to  talents  alone,  and  a  fair 
competition  once  a  year,  takes 
place  between  the  boys  who  are 
candidates  for  the  foundation. 
They  g^erally  9tand  outj  as  it  is 
termed,  from  the  Jifih  formy  and 
commence  their  competition  abmit 
two  months  previous  to  the  timej 
when  the  senioar  boys  on  the  foun- 
dation are  preparing  for  their  elec- 
tion to  Oxford  or  to  Cambridge. 
A  great  number  contend  for  ad- 
mission, and  about  eight,  or  more, 
liccording  to  the  vacancies,  are  ad- 
mitted. The  king's  scholars  wear 
Caps  and  gowns  to  distinguish 
them,  are  never  above  the  age  of 
fourteen  when  admitted  ;  they  re- 
main four  years  on  the  establish- 
ment, and  then  are  either  elected 
Mudents  of  Christ  Church,  Oxford, 
or  are  chosen  to  Cambridge,  where 
they  mostly  succeed  to  a  fellow- 
ship. The  king's  scholars  live  in 
what  is  called  the  dormitory,  but 
Whether  from  caprice,  pride,  or  I 
know  not  what,  do  not  choose  to 
l^ceive  all  the  profits  of  the  foun- 
dation, but  are  content  to  dine  in 
the  college  hall  only,  and  have 
their  other  meals  from  the  board- 
ing-houses, of  which  they  are  term- 
ed half 'boarder*,  .  Thus  the  educa- 
tion, as  a  king's  scholar,  is  very 
Httle  cheaper,  though,  on  many 
accounts,  much  to  be  preferred. 
The  dean  and  sub-dean  of  Christ 
Church  attend  once  a-year,  at 
Whitsuntide,  to  take  tlieir  equal 
portion  of  the  seniour  candidates 
for  election,  as  do  likewise  the 
master  of  Trinity,  and  some  fel- 
lows. They  have  their  choice  al- 
ternately, but  as  it  is  esteemed  more 
advantageous  for  the  boys  to  be  stu- 
dents of  Christ  Church,  the  Cam- 
bridge electors  alwa3r8  wave  their 


right  of  claim,  and  accept  of  tboscf 
whom  the  dean  of  Christ  Church, 
who  bestows  the  studentships,  does 
not  elect  to  his  own  college.  The 
election  to  Oxford  is  always  a  mere 
matter  of  interest,  superiority  of 
talents  is  totally  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. But  the  boys  who  are  stu- 
dious and  prudent,  may  improve 
the  advantages  of  an  election  to 
Cambridge  to  an  equal,  and  some- 
times superiour  profit. 

4.  I  come  now  to  my  last  con- 
sideration, the  books  reawl,  and  the 
method  of  instruction  pursued 
throughout  the  school.  I  have  al- 
ready mentioned  the  division  of 
the  under  school  into  three  forms, 
one  of  which  I  shaH  call  a  douNe 
/bmiy  namely  the  thirds  it  consist- 
ing of  two  distinct  forms,  and  eacit 
being  divided  into  an  upper  and 
lower  part,  as  with  the  rest  of  the 
iingte  forms. 

In  the  petty  or  first  form,  arc 
taught  the  rudiments  of  Ladn 
grammar.  In  the  second,  the 
boys  are  taught  to  construe  ^sop, 
Phsedrus,  and  turn  some  mtcrcd 
exercUcB  into  Latin* 

In  the  under  third,  begins  their 
first  instruction  in  prosody.  They 
here  commence  their  verac  exer- 
cise, a  species  of  education,  with 
some  so  much  the  subject  of  cen- 
sure, with  others  of  applause,  in 
ail  our  publick  schools.  The  boys 
read  Ovid's  Tristia,  and  Metam- 
orphoses ;  Cornelius  Nepos  is 
their  prose  author.  They  turn  the 
Psalms,  and  sacred  exercises,  into 
Latin  verse,  on  Thursdays,  and 
Saturdays,  first  beginning  with 
what  are  called  nofueme  verte^y  and 
making  them  approach,  as  fast  as 
they  are  able,  to  an  union  of  sense 
and  metre. 
In  the  upper  thii'd,where  the  ut>der 
master  presides,  the  same  course 
of  discipline  is,  for  the  most  part» 
pui*sued;  the  exercbes  beinjf  orif 


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«41 


only  longer,  and  required  to  be 
more  correcl* 

The  upper  school  is  divided  into 
four  forms  ;  the  fourth,  the  fifth, 
the  shell,  the  sixth,  or  the  upper 
part  of  it,  which  is  called  the  sev- 
enth, generally  filled  by  the  seniour 
king's  scholars.  In  the  fourth,  are 
read  Virgil,  Cxsar's  Commenta- 
ries, and  the  Greek  Testament, 
with  the  Greek  grammar,  not 
taught  in  anylof  the  under  forms. 
On  Thui'sdays,  the  boys  turn  Mar- 
tial's Epigrams  into  long  and  short 
Terses,and  on  Saturdays,  do  a  verse 
exercise  from  the  Bible  with  the 
rest  of  the  upper  school.  In  the 
fifth,  are  read  the  same  books,  with 
the  addition  of  the  Greek  epi- 
grammatists, som6  part  of  Homer 
and  Sallust.  On  Monday,  a  Latin 
theme,  on  Wednesday,  an  English 
one,  or  an  abridgment  from  some 
prose  author  is  read  in  the  form  ; 
on  Thursdays,  they  turn  the  odes 
of  Horace  into  another  metre, 
generally  into  hexameters  and  pen- 
tameters ;  on  Saturdays,  Bible- 
exercise  throughout  the  school. 
In  the  shell,  the  same  course  is 
pursued,except,  that  the  only  Greek 
author  read,  is  Homer.  In  the 
sixth  and  seventh^  where  the  head 
master  presides,  the  higher  Greek 
and  Latin  authors  are  all  read— - 
such  as  Sophocles,  Euripides,  De- 
mosthenes, sometimes  iEschylus : 
Horace,  Juvenal,  Cicero,  Livy, 
Sallust,  &«.  It  would  be  tedious 
to  run  over  all  the  books,  and  the 
different  times  ,when  they  are  in- 
troduced ;  it  will  be  sufficient  to 
add,  that  a  boy  who  has  passed 
through  the  sixth  form  will  find 
no  difficulty  in  any  Latin  or  Greek 
author  whatever.  Here  the  verse 
exercises  are  carri-d  to  the  highest 
perfection,  and  a  boy  will  produce, 
for  his  Saturday's  Bible 'exercise, 
an  alcaick  ode,  or  thirty  or  foriy, 
aometimes   a  hundred  hexameter 

Vol.  HI.  No.  12.  4  I 


verses,  of  the  most  flowing  melo- 
dy, and  frequently  of  no  little  po- 
etical elevation.  The  Greek  Tes- 
tament is  read  in  Easter  week, 
and  Grotius*,  with  copious  com- 
ments by  the  master,  to  infuse 
proper  religious  sentiments,  on 
every  Monday  morning.f 

5.  I  now  come  to  my  last  con- 
sidei*ation.  The  vacations  are 
three  times  a-year.  Three  weeks 
at  Christmas,  when 'the  king's 
scholars  perform  one  of  Terence's 
plays  ;  the  same  portion  of  time 
at  Whitsuntide,  and  five  weeks  at 
Bartholomewtide.  It  must  be  con- 
fessed, there  is  here  no  waste  of 
time  ;  the  boys  being,  moreover, 
employed  in  long  repetitions,  and 
holiday  tasks,  during  the  vacation. 
The  expenses  of  the  boarding- 
houses  are  generally  from  thirty 
to  thirty-five  guineas  per  annum, 
and  the  utmost  sum  paid  to  the 
masters  is  seven  guineas,. 

I  will  now  venture  to  assert, 
that  DO  man  can  educate  his  son 
at  a  private  school  in  so  moderate 
a  manner,  particularly  if  he  be 
sent  to  Westminster  as  a  day* 
scholar,  I  have  no\v  made  m edi- 
tion of  all  that  occurs  to  me.  I 
should  certainly,  however,  not  have 
resisted  this  opportunity  of  dwell- 
ing on  the  strict  and  most  exem- 
plary mode  of  religious  education 
pursued  at  Westminster,  but  that 
I  can  refer  my  readers  to  a  much 
better  account  of  it  in  the  I  ate  Vin- 
dication of  the  Dean  of  Westmin- 
ster. T.  L. 

•  Grotius  merely  serves  as  a  peg. 
The  master  takes  this  opportunity  of* 
discussing  the  fundamental  doctrines 
of  Christianity,  and  well-grounding  tho 
boys  in  them. 

t  The  upper  boys,  in  their  turns, 
speak  publlckly  in  the  school  on  everjr 
Friday,  sometimes  in  Latin,  often  in 
Greek,  more  frequently  frbbi  the  En- 
gUah  poets. 


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ORIGINAL  POETRY. 


For  the  Monthly  Antholocf. 
MONODY^ 
TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  GEN.  HENRY  KNOX. 

With  all  of  nature's  ^ft,  and  fortune's  claims 

A  soul  of  honour,  and  a  life  of  fame, 

A  warrior-chief,  in  victorj-'s  field  renown'd, 

A  statesman,  with  the  wreath  of  virtue  crown'd. 

Such,  Knox,  weet  THou....shall  truth's  immortal  stx«A 

R«cal  thy  deeds,  and  plead  their  worth  in  vain  \ 

Sacred  and  sainted  'mid  yon  starry  sky. 

In  vain  shaH  friendship  breathe  her  holiest  sigh. 

Where  is  that  pity  known  thy  life  to  share^ 

Softening"  the  beams  by  g-lory  blazoned  there  ? 

Lost  like  thy  form,  with  that  unconscious  growDy 

Of  all  thy  living  virtues  called  their  own  ! 

Ne'er  shall  tliat  smile  its  speaking  charm  impart 

To  vrin  the  angered  passions  from  the  heart ; 

No  more  that  voice,  like  musick,  seem  to  flowt 

Kind  in  its  carings  for  another's  woe, 

But  round  thy  tomb  despai>^^ll  live  to  weep. 

Cold  as  the  cearments  of  thy  marble  sleep. 

Yet  wert  thou  blest.    Ere  age  with  chill  delaj 
Quenched  of  the  fervid  mind  its  sacred  ray, 
Fate  called  thee  hence....  Nor  nature's  late  decline 
Saw  thy  fuU-lastred  fame  forbear  to  shine  ; 
Called  thee  witli  many  a  patriot  earth -approved. 
With  heroes  by  the  Quekn  of  Empires  loved  : 
While  on  that  world  of  waters  victory  gave,^ 
Immortal  NeUon  grained  a  glorious  g^ve  ; 
When  Pitt,  the  soul  of  Albion,  reached  the  skier. 
And  saw  the  rival  or  his  genius  rise. 
Fox,  loved  of  fame...a  nation*s  guide  and  boast. 
His  voice  sublime  mid  wondering  plaudits  lost. 
These,  like  thyself,  for  godlike  deeds  admired. 
In  the  green  autumn  of  their  years  retirccL 
Hence  shall  their  kindred  spirits  blend  with  thiney 
And  mingling,  in  collected  radiance  shine. 
Honoured  in  life,  in  death  to  memory  dear. 
Not  hopeless  falls  the  tributary  tear. 
For  what  is  death  but  life's  beginning  hour, 
Tlie  good  man's  glory,  and  the  poor  man's  power  r 
Banquet  of  every  bliss  we  taste  below. 
Source  of  the  hope  we  feel,  the  trudi  we  know. 
Then  not  for  thee,.ww7i  tkadty  tJie  grief  be  given  f 
For  thee,  beloved  on  earth,  approved  in- heaven, 
All  that  thy  life  revered  thy  death  supplies. 
To  LIVE  WITH  Angels^  and  in  Goi>  to  whs*. 

I>ecemi^r,  1806. 


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•EI#12rAL    POETRT.  €43 


Wor  the  Monthly  Anthoioiy, 
£RIM 

Beriih)  the  misty  brow  of  yonder  hill. 
Beside  a  stream  that  turns  the  village  mill, 
H^motc  from  worldly  care  and  courtly  strife, 
>Once  honest  Erin  led  a  peaceful  life. 
Brisk  as  the  bee  that  sucks  tlie  fragrant  dew. 
He  hied  afield  the  stubborn  oak  to  hew; 
Or,  when  rough  winter  lefl  the  leafless  bower. 
And  smiling-  spring"  came  on  in  simny  shower; 
Jocund  he  drove  the  patient  ox  to  toil. 
And  broke  with  lagging  i>lough  the  loosen*d  soiL 
Oft  the  lone  beat  of  yonder  chapel  bell. 
That  toll*d  for  frosty  age  the  passing  Imell, 
AU.ur'd  the  ruddy  swain,  witli  moisten'd  brow. 
To  taste  the  luncheon  spread  on  wheaten  mow. 
And;  when  behind  the  hills  tlie  sun  withdrew^ 
And  noisy  swallows  to  tlieir  lodging  flew. 
Before  his  cot,  or  near  some  rushy  stream. 
That  faintly  twinkled  'neath  the  silver  gleam. 
While  perRim'd  breezes  in  the  tree-tops  plays. 
Fanning  the  air  as  weary  liglit  decay'd  ; 
With  merry  reed  he  made  tlie  rustick  gay. 
Returning  home  at  close  of  busy  day. 
But  hush'd  the  strain  that  gladdcn'd  all  the  plain 
And  cheer'd  with  simple  notes  tlic  homeward  swain ; 
•For  now  away  beneath  yon  scraggy  thorn. 
Where  nightly  sits  the  bird  of  eve  forlorn. 
And  tall  weeds  wave,  as  sighs  the  hollow  gale. 
And  gently  swells  the  green  sod  in  the  dale, 
Releas'd  from  all  this  little  world's  alarms, 
^e  sleeps  secure  in  death's  oblivious  arms. 

Blest  was  his  toil  witli  crops  of  golden  gfrain. 
And  Erin  grew  in  wealth,  and  rose  in  name. 
But,  ah,  that  pleasing  rest,  which  wealth  imparts. 
Too  ofl  unnerves  the  frame,  unmans  our  hearts. 
So  far'd  it  now  with  late  our  honest  down ; 
In  ease  repos'd  he  thoughtless  soug^lit  the  town. 
And  loitering  day  by  day,  a  prey  to  harm, 
^e  left  unplough'd  the  field,  unsown  the  farm. 
The  moments  flew.     His  happy  days  were  gone. 
Swift  as  the  beam  that  scales  the  saffron  mom  ; 
And  now  gloom'd  round,  with  chilling  frost  combined. 
Cold  want,  that  ragged  rustled  in  tlie  wind. 

The  storm  Wew  bleak,  and  drifting  fast  tlie  snow. 
When  Erin  left  the  vale  opprest  witli  wo  ; 
Remorse  with  rankling  tooth  his  bosom  tore. 
And  wild  witli  grief  he  saw  liis  home  no  ^ofC. 

JDcc,  2p,  1806^ 


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644  OaK^IHAli  POETRY* 


To  the  Editors  of  the  Monthly  Anthology, 

The  following  Poem  was  presented  to  mo  by  a  literary  female  friend  atLnc^ 
pool,  with  an  assurance  it  was  copied  from  the  manuscript  of  Walter  Scott 

C. 

HELVELLYJ^. 

In  the  tprlng  of  1805,  a  young  gentleman  of  talents,  cmd  a  tnoet  amiaUe  £ipotkm, 
fieriihed,  by  loting  his  ^ay,  on  the  mountain  Helvellyn  ;  the  remmtu  vert  aof  i» 
conered  until  three  months  afterwards,  vshen  they  were  found  guarded  by  ajmiifi 
terrier,  his  constant  attendant  during  fretpient  solitary  rambles  through  the  m^  ^ 
Cumberland  and  Westmoreland. 

I  climb'd  the  dark  brow  of  the  mighty  Helrellyn, 
Lakes  and  moimt&ins  beneath  me  gleam'd  misty  and  wide  f 
All  was  still....8ave,  by  fits,  when  the  eagle  was  yelling^— 
And  starting  aroimd  me,  the  echoes  replied. 
On  the  left  stridcn  edge  round  the  red  tarn  was  bending. 
And  Catchediceim  its  right  verge  was  defending. 
And  one  huge  nameless  rock  in  the  front  was  ascending^ 
When  I  mark'd  the  sad  spot  where  the  wanderer  died. 

Dark  green  was  that  spot  'mid  the  brown  mountain's  heather^ 
Where  the  pilgrim  of  nature  lay  stretch'd  in  decay  ; 
Like  the  corpse  of  an  outcast,  abandop'd  to  feather, 
'Till  the  mountain  winds  wasted  the  tenantless  clay. 
Nor  yet  quite  deserted,  though  lonely  extended. 
For,  faithful  in  death,  his  mute  favourite  attended. 
The  much  lov'd  remains  of  his  master  defended,  * 
And  chac'd  the  liill  fox  and  tlic  ravens  away. 

How  long  didst  thou  think  that  his  silence  was  slumber  I 
When  the  wind  wav'd  his  garments,  how  oft  didst  thou  start  I 
How  many  long  (lays  and  long  nights  didst  thou  number. 
Ere  he  faded  before  thce....thc  friend  of  thy  heart  ? 
And  ah  !  was  it  meet  that,  no  requiem  read  o'er  him. 
No  mother  to  weep,  and  no  friend  to  deplore  him. 
And  thou,  little  guairlian,  close  stretched  before  him, 
Unhonour'd,  the  pilgrim  fi^m  life  should  depart  ? 

When  a  prince  to  the  fate  of  a  peasant  lias  yielded. 
The  tapestry  waves  dark  round  tlie  dim-lighted  hall. 
With  sciitchcons  of  silver  the  coffin  is  shielded. 
And  pages  stand  mute  in  the  canopied  hall. 
Through  the  vault  at  deep  midnight  the  torches  arc  gkamingr 
In  the  proudly  arch'd  chapel  the  banners  are  beaming. 
Far  adown  the  long  uisle  sacred  musick  is  streaming. 
Lamenting  a  chief  of  the  people  should  falL 

But  mectcr  for  thee,  gentle  lover  of  nature^ 

To  lay  down  thy  head  like  the  meek  mountain  lamb^ 


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OHIGXMAL  VOBI^t.  Mih' 

WheB  vHlder'd  he  drops  irom  some  cliff  huge  in  sUtore, 
And  draws  his  last  sob  by  the  side  of  his  dam  : 
And  more  stately  thy  couch  by  this  desart  lake  lyings 
Thy  obsequies  sung  by  the  grey  plover  flyine. 
With  but  one  faithful  friend  to  witness  thy  dying 
In  the  arms  of  Hclvellyn  and  Catchediccim.  ' 


For  the  Anthology. 

^W-YEAR'S  ADDRESS 

OF 

THE  CARRIER  OF  THE  ANTHOLOGY. 

Mune diem  numera  meiiore  lapilio, 

f^ui  tibi  labenUi  apponit  cttmUdu*  anno*  ; 
wide  vnerum  genio Pehs.  Sat.  2d. 

I4XST  to  a  simple  lad  !  no  heir  of  fame, 
"Who  boasts  no  greater  than  a  **  carrier's"  name  ; 
Who  ne'er  had  share  in  swelling  Faction's  roar, 
^or  party  rancour  on  his  shoulders  bore. 

He  scorns  to  tell  of  toils  be  never  knew. 
Storms  that  ne'er  rose,  and  winds  that  never  blew  i 
How  ofl  for  you,  o'er  Alps  of  snow  he  went. 
His  breeches  tatter'd,  and  his  breath  quite  spent. 
One  truth  in  boards  is  better,  sure,  by  half. 
Than  twenty  lies,  tho'  gilt  and  bound  in  calf. 

Once  more  old  time  revolves  his  iron  sphere. 
And  wonted  pastimes  hail  the  new-bom  year. 
On  whitest  wings  the  mcny  moments  fly, 
Mirth  laughs  aloud,  and  grief  forgets  to  sigh ; 

Kow  little  masters  tvtell  themselves  to  men, 
And  miss,  indulg'd,  sits  up  till  half  past  ten.  ■ 
When  pale  face  paupers  ;u*  securely  bold  ; 
Vrhen  beggars  wish,  apd  wishes  turn  to  gold  ; 
When  wretehes  ask,  who  never  ask'd  before. 
And  those,  who  always  ask'd  now  ask  the  more ; 
When  even  Harpaz  smiles— —upon  his  wealth. 
And  thro*  his  v}indovf  drinks  hi|  neighbour's  health, 
l^hall  a  poor  boy,  alone,  of  all  the  train, 
WitJiout  one  single  gUtt^jng  joy  remain  ? 
Say,  if  a  learned  sermon  please  you  well. 
Will  you  not  think  of  him  who  rang'^e  bell  ? 
When  the  musician's  skilful  fingers  fly. 
And  chain  your  ears  in  "organ  melody,** 
Shall  no  kind  thoughts  witliin  'your  bosom  glowj 
For  the  poor  boy  who  did  the  bellows  blow  ? 

What  ?  will  a  land  of  learned  JMtrchanU  sef 
Thtir  muse's  carrier  pme  in  poverty  \ 


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•46 


ftlM^ICTB^   I>Q»TliT. 


Ke'^  shall  %i  be»  while  tradesmen  criticisib 
Or  •••••••♦  quotes  Dambergcr's  lies  ; 

Ne'er  sl^sll  it  be,  while  rich  men  safely  sail^ 
Or  clatt'ring'  Bozzy  hangs  at  Johnson^s  tail 

Unlock  your  hearts,  and  may  your  kindnesfr  seeia 
To  flow,  like  circlet  in  a  tilver  stream^ 
Still,  still  di'oerge,  and  may  these  circlet  find 
Their  common  centre  in  a  g^n'rous  mind. 
Thrice  happy  day  !    may  all  its  pleasures  last. 
And  years  to  come  be  happy  a^  the  past. 
BostQTij  Jan,  1,  1807. 


SELECTIONS, 

From  the  "  Wanjjerjer  in  Switzjcrlakb.^ 
3j  yames  Montgomery, 


THE   LYBB. 

"  Ah  /  ivho  v)oul((  love  the  lyre  !^ 

G.  A.  Stevens. 

WHERE  the  roving  rill  raeandcr'd 

Down  the  green,  retiring  vale. 
Poor,  forlorn  Alc^us  wandePd, 

Pale  with  thought,  serenely  pale ,: 
Hopeless  sorrow,  o'er  liis  face 
Breathed  a  melancholy  grace. 
And  fix'd  on  cvevy  feature  there 
The  mournful  resig^tion  of  despair. 

O'er  his  arm,  his  lyre  ncglectcd|. 

Coldly,  carelessly  he  flung  ; 
And,  in  spirit  deep  dejected, 

Tlius  the  pensive  poet  sung  ; 

WJiile,  at  midnight's  solemn  noon. 

Sweetly  shone  tJie  cloudless  raoon^ 

And  all  the  stars,  around  his  head. 

Benignly  bright,  tlieir  mildest  influence 

shed. 

"  L\Te  !  O,  LjTe  !.  nay  chosen  trea- 
sure, 
•*  Solace  of  my  bleeding  heart  ; 
♦•  LjTe  !  O,  Lyre  !  my  only  pleasure, 

"  We  must  ever,  ever  part : 
•*  'Tis  in  vain  thy  poet  sings, 
•*  Woos     in    vain    thiue    heavenly 
strings. 


*'  The  Muse's  wretched  f  ors  ire  bai 
^  To  cold  neglect,  and  peiiiiiy,and  %ax% 

**  That  which  Alexander  sigh'd  fer, 
"  That  which    Caesar's  soul  pof* 
sess'd, 
.^That  which  ^eroev  Kings  bait 
died  for, 
<«  Glory  ! — animates  my  breast : 
**  ^ark  \     the    charging    tn]Oi|>ets 

throats 
**  Pour  tlieir  deatli -defying  notes ; 
**  To  arras !"  they  call ;  to  arms  lih, 
"  Lik«  Wolfe  to    conquer^-snd  Qti 
Wolfe  to  die  ! 

.«  Soft  !r-the  blood  of  rourdtf'dl^gkai 
^\  Summons  vengeance  from  tbt 
skies  ; 
••*  Flaming  towns,and  ravag'd  regioB^ 

"  All  in  awful  judgment  rise ! 
— •*  O  then,  innocenSy  brave, 
**  I  will  wrestle  with  the  wave  i 
**  Lo !  Commerce  spreads  the  dni^ 
sail, 
*<  And  yokes  her  naval  chanoti  to  tbl 
gale. 

"  Blow  ye  breezes !— gently  Howiifi 

"  Waft  me  to  that  happy  shore, 
«*  Where,from  fountains  ever  floviflg» 
^   "  Indian  reahus  their  trptiurespotfi 


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€KL%cnLD  ^STttT. 


^7 


••  Th«nce  reltiming^,  poor  in  health, 
'*  Rich  in  honesty  and  wealth, 
•'  O'er  thee,  my  dear  paternal  soil ! 
**  ril  strew  tlie  golden  harvest  of  my  toil. 

"Then  shall  Miserjr's  sons  and  daugh- 
ters 
**  In  their  lowly  dwiellings  sing  ; 
^-"  Bounteous  as    the  Nile's  dark 
\^ater8, 
•'  Undiscover'd  as  their  firing, 
•*  I  will  scatter,  o'er  the  land, 
"  Blessings  with  a  secret  hand- ; 
— "  For  such  angelick  tasks  designed, 
**  I  give  the  Lyre  and  sorrow  to  tlie 
wind." 

On  an  oak,  whose  branches  hoary 

Sigh*d  to  every  passing  breezt, 

Sigh'd,  and  told  the  simple  story 

Of  the  patriarch  of  trees  ; 
Hi^  in  mr  his  harp  he  hung. 
Now  no  more  to  rapture  strung  ; 
Then  warm  in  hope,  no  longer  pale, 
He  blush'd  adieu,  and  rambled  down 
the  vale. 

Lightty  touch'd  by  fairy  fingers. 
Hark  ! — the  Lyre   aichants    the 
wind  ; 
Fond  Alca;us  listens,  lingers,— 

Lingering,  listening,  looks  behind. 
Now  the  musick  mounts  on  high. 
Sweetly  swelling  through  the  sky  ; 
To  every  tone,  with  tender  heat. 
His  heart-strings  vibrate,  and  iiis  pulses 
beat 

Now  the  strains  to  silence  stealing. 

Soft  in  ecstacies  expire  ; 
Oh  !  with  what  romantick  feeling 

Poor  Alcxus  g^rasps  the  l>Te  ! 
Ix» !  his  furious  hand  he  flings. 
In  a  tempest  o*er  the  strings  ; 
He  strikes  the  chords  so  quick,  so 
loud, 
Tis  Jove  that  scatters  lightning  from  a 
cloud ! 

•<  Ljrre  !   O,  Lyre  !  my  chosen  trea- 
sure, 
*'  Solace  of  my  bleeding  heart  ; 
**  L\Te  !  O,  Lyre  !  my  only  pleasure, 

— **  We  wiU  never,  never  purt  ! 
**  Glory,  Commerce,  now  in  vain, 
••  Tempt  mc  to  the  field,  the  main  ; 
**  The  Muse*s  Sons  are  blest,  though 
bom 
**  To  cold  neglect,  and  penury,  and  sconi. 


•«  What,  though  sll  the  world neglefc% 
me, 
"  Shall  my  haughty  soul  repine  t 
*•  And  shall  poverty  deject  me, 

"  While  this  hallo w'd  Ivre  is  mine  i 
*'  Heaven — that  o'er  myhelpless  head, 
"  Many  a  v/rathful  vial  shed, 
— "  Heaven  gave  this  lyre !— 4md  thui» 
decreed, 
**  Be  thou  a  bruiiedy  but  not  a  brok§f$ 
reed  !*' 


THE    CRAVB. 

THERE  is  a  calm  for  those  who  wecp^ 
A  rest  for  weary  Pilgrims  found. 
They  softly  lie  and  sweetly  sleep. 
Low  in  the  ground. 

The  Btomi  that  wrecks  the  wint^cr  sky. 
No  more  disturbs  their  deep  repose. 
Than  summfcr  evening's  latest  sigh. 
That  sliuts  the  rose. 

I  long  to  lay  this  painful  head    ^ 
And  aching  heart  beneath  the  soiT^ 
To  slumber  in  UiTit  dreamless  bed 
From  all  my  toiL 

For  Misery  stole  me  at  my  birth. 
And  cast  me  helpless  on  the  wild  ; 
r  perish  ;— O  my  mother  Earth  ? 

Take  home  thy  Child^! 

On  thy  dear  lap  these  limbs  recUn«d 
Shall  gently  moulder  into  thee  ; 
Nor  leave  one  wretched  trace  behind, 
Resembhng  me. 

Hark  \ — a  strange  sound  affrights  mill* 

ear  ; 
My  pulse;, — my  brain  runs  wild,— I  rave  s 
— Ah !  who  art  tliou  whose  voice  I  hear  ? 

"  I  am  THE  CRAVK  ! 

«  The  GRAVE,  that  nefver  spake  be- 
fore, 
Hath  found  at  length  a  tongue  to  chide  f 
O  listen  t — I  will  «peak  no  more  : 
Be  silent.  Pride  J 

"  Art  thou  a  WRETCH,  of  hope  for- 
lorn. 
The  nctJm  of  consuming  care  ? 
Is  tliy  distracted  conscience  torn 
By  fell  deapaic  i 


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64S 


JOILBCTBD.  PeSTllT. 


«  Do  foul  misdeeds  of  former  times 
Wring  with  remorse  tliy  guilty  breast. 
And  Ghosts  of  unfornven  crimes 
Murder  thy  rest  ? 

"  L&sh'd  by  the  furies  of  the  mind. 
From  wrath  and  ven^ance  wouldst  thou 

flee  ? 
Ah  !  think  not,  hope  not.  Fool !  to  find 
A  friend  in  me. 

"  By  all  the  terrours  of  the  tomb. 
Beyond  the  power  of  tongue  to  tell  ! 
By  the  dread  secrets  of  my  womb  ! 
By  Death  and  Hell ! 

•*  I  charge  thee  LIVE  !— repent  and 

pray  ; 
In  dust  thine  infamy  deplore  ; 
There  yet  is  mercy  ;      -go  thy  way. 
And  sin  no  more. 

*•  Art  thou  a  MOURNER  ?— Hast  thou 

known 
Tlie  joy  of  innocent  delights  ? 
Endearing  days  forever  flown. 

And  tranquil  nights  I 

*'  O  LIVE  ! ^'md  deeply  cherish  still 

The  sweet  remembrance  of  the  past : 
Rely  on  Heaven's  unchanging  will 
For  peace  at  last 

"  Art  thou  a  WANDERER  ?— Hast 

thou  seen 
"O'erwhelming    tempests    drown   thy 

bark? 
A  shipwreck'd  Sufferer  hast  thou  been. 
Misfortune's  mark  ? 

«  Though  long  of  winds  and  waves  the 

sport, 
r  Condemn'd  in  wretchedness  to  roam, 
LIVE  ! — ^thou  shalt  reach  a  sheltering 
port, 

A  quiet  home. 

*•  To  FRIENDSHIP  didst  thou  trust 

thy  fame. 
And  was  thy  friend  a  deadly  foe. 
Who  stole  into  thy  breast  to  aim 
A  surer  blow  i 

"  LIVE  ! — and  repine  not  o'er  his  loss, 
A  loss  unworthy  to  be  told  : 
Tbou  hi;st  mistaken  sordid  dross 

For  Friendship's  gold. 


<<  Go,  seek  that  treasure,  seldom  lbimd« 
Of  power  the  fiercest  griefs  to  calm. 
And  soothe  the  bosom's  deepest  wound 
With  heavenly  balra« 

«« In  WOMAN  hast  thou  placed  tbj 

bliss, 
Aud  did  the  Fair  One  faithless  prove  i 
.  Hath  she  betray'd  thee  with  a  kiss,. 
And  sold  thy  love  ? 

"LIVE !— 'twasafalsebewilderingfire. 
Too  often  Love's  insidious  dart 
Thrills  the  fond  soul  with  sweet  desite. 
But  kills  the  heart. 

**A  nobler  flame  shall  warm  thy  breast, 
A  brighter  Maiden's  virtuous  charms  5 
Blest  shalt  thou  be,  supremely  blest. 
In  Beauty's  firms.    . 

" Whatever   thy  lot,— Whoe'cf 

thou  be,— 
Confess  thy  folly,— kiss  the  rod. 
And  in  tliy  chastening  sorrows  see 
The  hand  of  GOD. 

"  A  bruised  reed  he  will  not  break. 
Afflictions  all  his  children  feel ; 
He  wounds  them  for  his  merc}''8  sake. 
He  wounds  to  bcaL! 

*•  Humbled  beneath  his  mighty  haikl. 
Prostrate  his  Providence  adcM«  ; 
'Tisdone  '.—Arise !  HE  bids  thee  stand. 
To  fall  no  more.  . 

"  Now,  Traveller  in  the  vale  of  tears  ! 
To  realms  of  everlasting  light, ' 
Through  Time's  daric  wilderness  of* 


years. 


Pursue  thy  flight. 


"  There  IS  a  calm  for  those  who  weep^ 
A  rest  for  weary  Pilorims  found  ; 
And  while  the  mouldering  ashes  sleep. 
Low  in  the  gtound  » 

"  The  Soul,  of  orijpn  divine, 
GOD's  glorious  imagt,  freed  from  cUy, 
In  heaven's  eternal  sphere  shall  shine^ 
A  star  of  day! 

•*  Tlie  SUN  is  but  a  spark  of  fire, 
A  transient  meteor  in  the  sky  ; 
The  SOUL,  immorud  as  its  Sire, 

SHALL    NEVSa    DIK.*** 


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tram 


^m 


THE  BOSTON  REVIEW. 

DECEMBER,    U06. 


libnim  tuuitl  legi  Sc  qtum  ^Ugentxttime  potui  atmotati,  quse  coinilauUhda,  Cj^m 
eximenda,  arWtrarep.  Nam  ego  dicere  vero  assuevi.  Neque  ulU  patientiuil 
fept'shcndttntuf,  quam  qm  oiazh&e  laudari  dkereDtur.^— ^Plimt. 


part  of  "Which  he  seems  better 
pleased,  than  ^ith  Louisiana.  la 
the  title*page  wc  are  Informed  that 
the  work  is  an  account  of  traveU 
in  1802  ;  yet  In  the  first  sentence 
of  the  first  chapter  the  writer  tells 
us  he  has  dwelt  two  years  and  a  hal^ 
in  the  colony.  The  Frenchraaa 
considers  Louisiana  ahd  West- 
Florida  as  olie  colony,  but  he  was 
never  a  surveyor  of  boundaries,  and 
politicians  must  look  elsewhere 
for  the  demarkation  of  our  sover- 
eignty. We  learn  only,  that  on 
the  west  we  are  bounded  bv  « New- 
Mexico,  and  vast  countries  unex- 
plored.* The  President  of  the 
United  States,  in  a  message  to 
Congress,  says,  that  Spain  would 
confine  our  territory  to  a  narrow 
strip  of  land  on  the  west  bank  ot 
the  Mississippi ;  but,  as  we  have 
long  since  sent  a  company  across 
the  continent,  even  to  the  Pacifick 
Ocean,  it  is  presumable,  that  our 
government  lays  claim  to  all  tha( 
tract,  traversed  by  Capts.  Lewis 
and  Clarke.  Yet  it  seems  matter 
of  very  little  coiicerri  in  this  quar- 
ter, whether  our  rights  e^ttend  fifty 
or  fifteen  hundred  leagues  beyond 
the  Mississippi.  But  the  transla- 
tor, in  one  of  his  notes,  attempts 
to  raise  a  doubt,  wbere  we  had 
thought  ourselves  most  secure. 

<  It  is  a  matter  of  mirth,  what 
erroneous  notions  the  world  has 
relative  to  the  cessioii  of  Xouisiand 


«  AUTICLB  65» 

TraveU  in  LouUiatui  and  (he  Ftor* 
ideu  in  the  year  1«03,  giving  a 

'  correct  fiicture  qf  those  couniriea. 
TranBlated/rom  the  French^  with 
notet^   Is^c*   by   John   Davie. 

Aspice  et  extl^mis  domitum  cultoii* 

bus  orbeniy 
-'  £«oique  domos  A^abum,  itictotqtte 

Celonos  ; 
i^iyiaat  arboribus  patxls*  Vx&Oi ' 

New-York,  Riley  &  Co.    l2mo> 
pfi.  18L     1606. 

Tm  immense  price,  wc  bave 
already  paid  for  a  part  of  the 
CDontry,  described  in  this  book, 
and  the  value,  attached  to  the  rest 
both  by  its  owners  and  by  our  gov- 
ernment, renders  every  account  of 
It  interesting  in  a  higher  degree, 
than  other  travels.  The  knowl- 
edge of  the  author  might  have 
been  acquired  by  a  two-months* 
rettdence  at  New-Orleans  ;  but 
there  are  few  men  of  education 
snd  leisure,  who  are  desirous  of 
a'  pilgrimage  into  that  region,  so 
little  known  to  its  possessors,  and 
We  must,  therefore,  acqtiiesce  ma- 
ny years  in  the  relations  of  men, 
Who  enjoy  few  opportunities  for 
Inquiry,  and  exhibit  little  minute- 
ness of  investigation.  The  author 
ll%s,  as  is  conjectured  by  his  trans- 
lator, a  planter  of  St.  Domingo, 
driven  by  the  blacks  to  seek  a  re- 
filge  on  the  continent^  with  any 
Vol.  in.  No.  U.        4K 


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TKATBL8  iV  LOUISIANA. 


to  the  United  States.  A  thousand 
people  imagine  at  this  moment 
that  New-Orleans  belongs  to  us  ; 
whereas  NewOrieans  still  belongs 
to  his  Catholic  Majesty  the  King 
of  Spain  ;  it  is  comprehended  in 
the  tract  reserved  by  him.' 

PASS. 

But,  however  Ignorant  of  the  ex- 
tent of  our  domain,  we  are  willing 
to  learn  its  value. 

<  If  we  take  into  consideration 
the  whole  extent  of  the  tract,  com- 
prehanded  in  the  boundaries  that 
have  been  just  exhibited,  the  colo- 
ny, imder  that  point  of  view,  in- 
cludes an  immense  territory.  But 
appreciating  things  by  their  real 
value,  and  considering  the  country 
in  another  point  of  view,  both  with 
regard  to  the  nature  of  its  soil  and 
other  local  circumstances,  without 
including  Upper  Louisiana,  which 
begins  at  the  thirty-first  degree  of 
latitude,  and  extends  to  the  north 
and  the  east,  an  immense  territo- 
ry, wild  and  uncultivated,  with  a 
few  partial  exceptions,  I  am  dis- 
posed to  believe  tliat  this  part  of 
the  colony,  composed  of  Lower 
Louisiana  and  West  Florida,  situ- 
ated at  the  Ihirtieth  and  thirty -first 
degrees  of  north  latitude,  and  at 
the  sixty -eighth  or  sixty-ninlh  de- 
gree of  east  longitude,  from  the 
meridian  of  Ferrol,  where  the 
ptincipal  settlements  of  the  colony 
afe  established  ;  tkis  immense 
tract,  I  insist,  comprehending  a 
Space  of  four  thousand  leagues, 
affords  only  five  hundred  square 
leagties  of  land  adapted  to  the  pur- 
poses of  agriculture  :  of  these  too, 
seventy -five  are  upon  the  banks  of 
the  Mississippi,  a  hundred  and 
iwenty-five  in  the  interiour  of  the 
country,  and  three  hundred  m  the 
tract  bounded  by  the  Atacapas  and 
the  Apelousas  ;  from  wliich  the 


inference  is  manifest,  that  oidy  lh# 

eighth  part  of  tlus  vast  country  <;aii 
be  appropriated  to  the  labours  and 
residence  of  mair,  the  remainder 
being  covered  with  lakes,  forests, 
and  swamps,  and  dry  and  sandy 
deserts.'     P.  4. 

In  the  second  chapter  we  fcanr, 
— *  The  Mississippi,  which  di- 
vides the  colony,  and  whose  real 
name,  in  the  language  of  the  abo- 
rigines of  the  country,  is  Afessa- 
M/d^  which  signifies  the  Father  cf 
Wattrsy  is  one  of  the  most  consid-* 
erable  rWePS  in  America.'     /*.  f  • 

Of  the  impedimenu  to  naviga- 
tion, the  rapidity  of  the  current, 
the  variation  of  the  channel,  and 
the  bar  at  the  mouth,  we  have  all 
the  information,  we  can  desire. 

The  3d  chaptet  is  chiefly  occu- 
pied by  a  minute  description  of  the 
chy  and  island  of  New-Orleans. 
Was  it  ever  thought,  tfaat^  in  the 
hands  of  Spaniards,that  city  would 
have  been  a  difficult  conquest  ?  The 
President  of  the  United  States  talk- 
ed of  the  rashness  of  attacking  a 
place,  whose  walls  were  covered 
with  cannon.  But  the  traveller 
contemptuously  asks,  *  M«Bt  I 
make  mention  of  Fort  St.  Charles, 
and  its  pretended  ramparts  ?  le 
would  provoke  the  nihility  of  aa 
engineer.' 

*  Such  is  New -Orleans  at  the 
present  era.  It  deserves  rather 
the  name  of  a  great  straggling 
town,  than  of  a  city  ;  though,  even 
to  merit  that  title,  it  would  be  re- 
quired to  be  longer.  In  fact,  the 
mind  can,  I  think,  scarcely  image 
to  itself  a  more  disagreeable  place 
on  the  face  of  the  whole  globe  ; 
it  is  disgusting  ki  whatever  point 
of  view  it  be  contemplated,  both  as 
a  whole,  separately,  and  the  wild, 
brutish  aspect  of  its  suburbs.  Yet 
it  is  the  only  town  in  the  whoU 


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651 


colony,  emd,  in  the  ardour  of  ad- 
miration, it  is  called  by  the  inhab- 
itants the  capital,  the  city  l*    P.35, 

We  are,  howefvec,  told,  and  we 
believe  it,  that  it  is  destined  by  na- 
ture to  become  one  of  the  principal 
cities  in  North  America.  In  a 
note  upon  this  subject  the  transla- 
tor quotes  from  another  -work,  pul>- 
llshed  at  Paris,  a. politick  estimate 
of  tiic  importance  of  New-Orkana. 

<  But  the  grand  advantage,  which 
fipws  to  the  American  states  from 
the  possession  of  the  Mississippi, 
is,  that  the  door  is  open  to  Mexi- 
co, and  the  valuable  mines  and 
provinces  of  Spaiu  are  exposed  toa 
an  easy  invasion.  The  Spanl^^^ 
possessions  lie  on  the  west  and 
south .  The  road  to  them  is  easy 
and  .^rect.  They  are  wholly  de- 
fenceless. The  frontier  has  nei- 
tljer  forts,  nor  allies,  nor  subjects. 
To  march  over  them  is  to  con- 
,qiier.  A  detachment  of  a  few 
thousands  would  find  faithful  guides, 
practicable  roads,  ;and  no  opposi- 
tion between  the  banks  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi and  the  gate?  of  IVJexico. 
The  unhappy  race,  whonpi  Spai^i 
has  enslaved,  are  without  arms  and 
without  spirit  ;  or  their  spirit 
would  prompt  them  to  befriend 
the  invader.  They  would  hail  the 
Americans,  as  deliverers,  and  exe- 
crate the  ministers  of  Spain,  as 
tyrants.'     P.  38. 

The  manners  of  the  inhabitants 
are  described  in  the  4th  chapter, 
and  the  subject  is  continued  in  the 
next,  where  their  inhumanity  is 
contrasted  with  the  conduct  of  the 
inhabitants  of  the  United  States. 
The  animation  of  the  writer  is  here 
exhausted,  and  he  concludes... 

«  May  this  page,  while  it  trans- 
nMts  with  infiuny  to  posterity  the 
f  gnduct  of  the  Louisianiuns,  be  a 


lasting  monument  to  the  magnan- 
imity of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
United  States.  Time  !  scatter  if 
thou  wilt  the  rest  of  this  volume 
to  the  winds  of  heaven,  but  let  that 
be  sacred,  which  records  the  gene- 
rous spirit  of  Ameiicans  I'    P,76. 

.On, slavery,  we  observe  an  ap- 
pearance .of  argument  to  support 
the  prc^sition,  ileai^st  to  his 
heart. 

<  Negroes  are  a  species  of  be- 
ings, whom  nature  seems  to  have 
iiitended  &r  slavery  ;  their  pUaa- 
cy  of  temper,  patience  under  inju- 
jiiry,  and  innate  passiv^ijess,  all 
cpncur  tQ  justify  this  position  ; 
unlike  the  savages  or  aborigines  of 
America,  who  co\ild  never  be 
brought  to  servjile  control.'    jP.82. 

A  little  further  he  declares,  '  as 
the  ox  resigns  himself  to  his  yoke, 
so  the  negro  bends  to  his  burden.* 
The  question  is  at  last  settled,  with 
perfect  satisfaction  and  self-com- 
placency, by  the  resistless  power 
of  general  axioms : 

«  Nature  may  be  modified,  but 
cannot  be  essentially  change^.  It 
is  not  possible  to  impart  to  the 
dog  the  habits  of  tlie  wolf,  nor  to 
the  ape  those  of  the  sheep.  This 
position  cannot  be  refuted.  Soph- 
istry may  for  a  while  delude,  but 
the  mind  reposes  upon  the  sts^ili- 
ty  of  truth.'     P.  84. 

Against  a  philosopher,  in  such 
impenetrable  armour,  who  shqll 
contend  ?  The  regulations  of  the 
slaves,  published  by  the  best  gov- 
emour,  that  Spain  ever  sent  to 
Louisiana,  are  introduced  in  a  note. 
Among  these  one  seems  to  render 
even  the  single  privilege  of  the 
negroes  nugatory.  It  declares, 
<  Slaves  may  not  sell  any  thing 
without  the   permission  of  tliej* 


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eft> 


MMfM^f  #f  M>|tP  WM40IU 


imisttr,  1^  tffefk  ih&  producdont 
of  tt>e  wa^te  lands  allowed  thein/ 
6ureiy  their  tender  mercies  are 
cruelty. 

From  thf  rem^der  of  the  rolt 
fime,  which  treats  of  the  tribes  of 
Indians,  of  the  diseases,  of  the  a|u« 
inals,  of  the  principal  settlements, 
of  the  populatioB,  commerce,  and 
government  of  the  country,  wc 
need  not  extntct  any  thing,  as  these 
circumstances  have  become  of  lit* 
tie  consequence  to  us  by  the  ces- 
eion  of  the  country  to  our  govern- 
jnent,  or  they  may  be  found  at 
greater  length  in  the  public^  st*te 
papers  since  that  event. 

On  the  whole,  this  volume  af- 
fords a  great  fund  of  information 
of  that  kind,  which  wc  most  wantr 
«d,  4  complete  character  of  the 
pew  subjects  of  our  government. 
There  is,  also,  a  part>  that  may  be 
serviceable  to  the  mere  merchant, 
snd  much  of  the  characteristic)^ 
levity  of  thought,  united  with  vio- 
lence of  langj^age,  that  will  plpasc 
every  pnc, 

ART.  6^. 
PhgratMcol  Memoir-9  of  Lord  VU^ 
count  JVel9onf  tvith  observations 
critical  and  exfUematory*  ^  Sfiar^ 
4a  cdegi.'^  By  John  Chamockj 
jP#7.  F.  S.ji.  author  qf  the  Bior 
grafUda  MnroHs^  and  the  History 
^  Marine  Architecturcy  Vt.  ^c. 
Second  American  edition,  BostoHi 
J>ubli8hed  by  Etheridge  &  Bliss, 
1«06.  T.  M.  Pomroy,  printer* 
Northampton.    Svo. 

This  publication  is  merely  « 
mirrative  of  Lord  Nelson's  victot 
ries,  diligently  collected  and  com- 
piled  from  the  various  official  states 
xnents.  It  is  a  wqrk,  that  must 
be  ever  particularly  interesting  to 
Englishmen,  as  it  comprjises  a  his? 
tory  of  th^ir  greatest  naval  en- 
gagecje^^s,  ^^d  the  mostimpor? 
^Unt  anecdotes  of  the|r   greatest 


natal  hero,  whoie  ntne  vU  de^ 
scend  in  g^ory  to  the  laiQst  pot*  , 
terity  pf  Qriuin. 

The  original  part  of  Mr.  Char« 
DOpk's  labours  in  this  productloa 
(the  only  p%rt,  Derbipsy  which  cats 
be  justly  coosidered  amenable  to 
qritidsm)  is  very  limited  ;  the  &• 
vents  themselves  having  bc«n  pr&» 
viously  related,  and  their  arrangev 
ment  following  the  order  of  time. 
This,  however,  is  not  so  dignifit^r 
as  might  have  been  expected  in 
the  execution  of  §uch  a  task.  His 
style  b  indigent ;  his  coUocatioa 
oftentimes  ii^pure.  {n  many  in<f 
stances  he  obviously  evinces  a  dis-> 
position  to  give  importance  to  tri« 
fl(^,  which  tends  rather  to  lessexi^ 
than  augment  the  splendour  pf  his 
subject. 

We  can  say  little  only  in  prajse 
of  the  ^  observations"  in  these  me* 
moirs,  and  it  would  be  unjust  to 
judge  them  with  all  the  rigour 
of  criticism,  unce  the  author 
himself  <  claims  pothing  but  the 
pnent  of  a  fidthfiil  collector  anil 
reporter  of  that  authentick  in« 
formation,  which  before  was  widest 
ly  scattered  under  the  publick 
eye.'  His  only  de^gn  is,  <  by  thi« 
miniature  representaUon  of  Lorcl 
Nelson,  to  correct  the  defects  an4 
mistakes  of  such  misen^le  sketches 
as  have  already  appeared,  and  tx| 
furnish  an  outline  to  those,  who 
may  in  future  be  inclined  to  amt 
plify  on  a  subject,  whigh  afibrdt 
such  boundless  ^naCe^^  In  oob* 
elusion  he^assures  the  reader,  th«( 
if  <  a  work  of  thb  kind  should  not 
be  undertaken  by  any  otii^  else,  ho 
may,  at  some  future  time,  produ<;i( 
his  best  endeavours  t6  such  efRpct  f 
to  which  he  intends  devoting  all 
the  leisure  hours,  which  indispo^ 
tion  and  private  concerns  msy 
leave  him.' 

In  the  performance  of  sudi  a 

.  plsi|9  should  Mr.  Chi^nock  icttUB 

his  resolution,  we  wish  much  fw> 


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coMrLvrs  jvsticb  ov  th»fxace. 


ess 


cess.  The  Life  of  Lord  Vhcbunt 
Nelsoii)  executed  by  a  man  of  tal* 
enU  and  infbimation,  would  doubt- 
less be  a  work  of  no  inconsidera- 
ble value.  The  history  of  the  age, 
in  which  he  lived,  will  be  as  much 
the  subject  of  admiration  with  pos- 
terity, as  perhap«  any  period,  which 
can  be  contemplated  in  the  retros- 
pect of  time.  He  will  be  record- 
ed amongst  the  chief  opposers  of 
the  torrent,  which  threatened  to 
deluge  the  continent  of  Europe 
and  the  world,  and  that  infatuated 
"^anibition,  which,  regardless  of  ev- 
pry  tie,  sacrifices  to  its  gratifica* 
tion  the  dearest  pledges  of  national 
henour  and  national  tranqi^Uity, 

*f  hated  through  the  coast 

OfSalathte,  in  Qath^  and  Ascalon, 
ilnd  Accaron,    and    daza't  frontier* 
bounds." 

The  task  of  biography  is  labo- 
lious  and  difficult ;  for,  as  it  is  the 
most  entertaining  kind  of  history, 
in  which  truth  may  be  embellish- 
ed with  the  painting  of  romance  ; 
so  it  is  the  most  arduous  success- 
fully to  perform.  Biography  phould 
t>e  written  with  the  pen  of  the 

S)et  in  the  band  pf  the  historian, 
ut  at  present  as  little  ceremony 
is  used  in  this  species  of  composif 
tion,  as  that  in  filling  up  the  blank 
parts  of  a  mUtimuB.  The  writer 
seizes  on  the  most  important  ac* 
tiops  of  the  subject y  taken  from  the 
nearest  source  ;  he  rivets  them 
together  with  ob^erwUion^  critical 
and  cxfilanatory  /  and,  in  a  week, 
produces  a  chain  of  three  hundred 
folio  links  l^^It  iVould  be  ah  ex- 
cellent amendment^  if  the  High 
Court  of  Criticism  could  issue  a 
DE  LiBno  iNSPiciENDo,  previous 
to  the  author's  delivery  at  the 
press, 

The  prosperity  of  MUothict 
commerce  is  oftentimei  &tal  to  the 
best  iatevestsof  titeratUfef    Tbc 


chief  agents  in  this  -Idcratite  ph>*  * 
fession  watch  the  demise  of  a  great 
man  with  all  the  vigilance  of  his 
undertakers  ;  and  generally  adver« 
tise  memoirs^  aketche*^  and  atmaU 
of  his  life  on  the  day,  in  which  his 
funeral  ceremony  Is  to  be  per? 
formed. 


The  complete  Justice  qf  the  Peace  % 
contcdving  extracts  from  Bum*M 
Justice^  and  other  justiciary  firom 
ductions.  The  whole  altered  arid 
fttade  conformable  to  the  laws  and 
manners  of  administering  justice^ 
particularly  in  the  state  qfMvm 
Ham/ishirey  and  generally  in  tie 
other  of  the  United  Slates  ;  com^ 
prising  the  practice^  authority^and 
duty  of  justices  qf  the  fleaccf 
with  forms  and  precedents  relate 
ing  theretq.  By  a  gentleman  qf 
the  profession.  Printed  and  pub? 
lished  according  to  act  of  con^ 
gress.  C.  Peirce,  Portsmouth, 
and  S.  Bragg,  jun.  Dover,  N,  H« 
8vo.  S?,50.  Aov.  1306. 

This  work  is  printed  on  very 
good  paper,  with  a  clear  type,  and ' 
appears  Jn  the  common  law  bind-* 
ing.  It  seems  to  have  been  origi- 
nedly  intended  by  the  compiler  as 
an  abridgement  of  Bum^s  Justice  f 
but  the  sessions,  for  which  that 
work  w^  more  particularly  calculi 
lated,  being  abolished,  made  every 
tiling  in  ^i<m,  excepting  the  forms, 
of  little  use.  It  contains,  however^ 
the  greater  part  of  that  author's 
treatise  on  arbitrament.  In  the 
arrangement  of  the  matter  the 
compiler  has  generally  followed 
Dalton,  and  the  substance  of  the 
forms,  as  far  as  they  were  appUca>r 
ble,  is  from  Burn. 

Little  can  be  said  of  a  compilst 
tion  of  this  nature  from  works  al- 
ready est;M!»hed  in  their  reputa*  . 


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M4 


kit  9)rqVIRT  INTO   TflC 


tioTi)  btit  tm  the  shape  snd  manner 
in  which  they  are  again  made  to 
appear.  Of  this  we  have  already 
spoken,  and  can  only  add,  that  it 
is  a  xx>nvement  book  of  reference, 
particularly  to  gentlemen  of  the 
profession  in  the  sta(te  of  New- 
Hampshire,  to  whom  it  is  dedi- 
cated, and  for  -whose  use  it  has 
been  more  parjticularlj  compiled. 


ART.  68. 

Jin  Inquiry  into  the  fircBent  htate  of 
the  foreign  reiatiom  <f  the  Union^ 
a»  affected  by  the  late  measures 
cf  admwtration.  S.  F.  Bi*ad- 
ford,  Philadelphia  ;  firisban  & 
.  Brannan,  New  York  5  Wm.  An- 
drews, Boston,  pji,  184.  8vo. 

This  is  a  pamphlet  of  180  pa- 
ges. Its  bulk  would  have  deterred 
ns  from  reading  it,  if  it  had  not 
been  our  duty  j.o  perform  the  task, 
in  order  to  give  our  readers  some 
information  of  its  contents.  Many 
have  not  the  leisure,  and  few  \v4ll 
have  the  desire,  to  read  a  great 
b«ok.  A  political  writer  sKuiild 
consider  how  little  our  «  enlight- 
ened" countrymen  read,  except 
newspapers,  and  that  consideration 
should  induce  him,  when  he  com- 
poses a  pamphlet,  to  study  brevity. 
Besides  a  dedication  to  the  A- 
merican  people,  and  an  inti*oduc- 
tion,  which  might  both  have  been 
expunged  by  the  author  witiiout 
any  essential  injury  to. his  book, 
the  first  forty  pages  contain  a  great 
many  general  observations,  which 
we  venture  to  think  could  have 
been,  and  ought  to  have  been, 
greatly  condensed.  TJiey  exiiibit, 
no  doubt,  many  important  views 
of  our  political  situation,  but  we 
could  wish  they  had  been  omitted 
or  abridged,  because  a  good  pamph- 
let is  the  better  for  b^g  shorts 


The  declamatory  style  in  which  th« 
writer  has,  we  confess,  too  ranch 
indulged  himself,  leads  -to  excea^ 
sive  prolixity. 

He  expatiates  on  the  danger  %o 
the  United  States  from  the  amlntioQ 
and  overgrown  power  of  France- 
He  in^sts  on  the  fixedness  of  the 
commercial  character  of  the  na- 
tion, on  tjiie  importance  of  com- 
merce, and  on  the  value  of  peace  ; 
and  confutes  some  of  the  absurd 
opinions  of  factious  men,  in  res- 
pect to  otir  jaeparating  jourselvc^ 
from  the  European  repuhlick  ojT 
naUons,aud  renouncing  commerce* 
He  gives  reasons,  very  much  at 
length,  to  shew,  « that  we  have 
every  thing  to  fear  from  France,* 
arid  we  could  wish  that  every  A- 
merican,  who  has  any  share  of 
sense  and  patriotism,  would  give 
attention  to  his  reasons.  Our  dan- 
ger from  Fi^ceis  no  doubt  great, 
even  while  Great  Britain  resists 
Ixer  arms  :  But  our  citizens  are 
not  less  sunk  in  apathy,  than,  ac- 
cording to  this  writer,  the  admin- 
istralion  is  in  cowardice.  ,  If  he 
had  discussed  this  part  of  his  sub- 
ject with  rather  more  temperance 
of  manner,  we  think  he  would  have 
made  more  converts.  He  is  full 
of  his  subject,  and  sees  the  publick 
dangers,  as  they  approach,  with 
the  eyes  of  a  statesman,  and  the 
zeal  of  a  true  republican.  But  as 
politicks  is  every  body's  amuse- 
ment and  nobpdy';>  business,  few 
readers,  we  are  siraid,  will  volun- 
teer it  to  get  the  h^art-ache  by  too 
close  and  long  contemplation  of  the 
insidious  ambition  of  Bonaparte, 
and  the  unprepanng,  perhaps  un- 
foreseen, pusillanimity  of  ourad* 
ministration. 

We  repeat  it,tbe/efore,  wc  could 
wish  the  style  of  this  pamphlet  had 
been  more  simple,  and  the  matter 
of  it  condensed  into  forty  or  fifty 
p9ge^.     Fpr  it  Qoptaina  sp  manj 


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Y»Z8SNT   Sf  ATS  OV  THS  VMIOV. 


«55 


good  things^  which  our  citizens 
ought  to  know  and  consider,  and 
the  writer  appears  to  possess  so 
much  information  and  sound  po- 
litical judgment,  it  is  to  be  regret- 
ted that  there  is  any  thing  to  ob- 
utruct  its  circulation. 

The  democrats  have  not  been 
8p>aring  of  electioneering  pamph- 
lets, which  ave  not  only  below  all 
criticisfsh  but  they  have  not  lived 
long  enough  to  meet  it. 

This  pamphlet  has,  we  confess, 
many  faults,  but  it  ha»  many  ex** 
eellences,  and,  in  our  opinion,  it 
is  one  of  its  excellences  tbat  it  is 
composed  in  a  spirit  of  boldness, 
and  with  a  vigour  of  conception  to 
denote  tlie  sincerity  aftd  zeal  of 
the  author.  He  speaks  with  the 
confidence  of  truth  ;  and  if  the 
friends  of  administration  could 
be  persuaded  to  think  the  sense 
and  reason  of  our  citizens  of  any 
essential  importance  to  their  popu- 
larity, which  was  built  and  still 
stands  upon  their  ignorance  and 
prejudices,  it  might  be  hoped  there 
would  be  an  answer  to  this  per- 
formance. They  are,  however, 
too  discreet  to  subject  Mr.  Jeffer- 
«on*s  merits  to  so  perilous  a  test. 
It  is  a  tcry  rare  thing  to  hear  of 
an  able  discussion  of  any  political 
subject  in  our  country,  though  it 
IS  very  common  in  England.  It 
is  because  in  England  they  have  a 
greater  number  of  sensible  readers, 
or  that  party  has  not  reduced  the 
tnenr  of  sense  ttf  the  condition  of 
insignificance  and  Impotence,  that 
Mr.  Jefferson  has  accomplished  in 
America.  If  Mr,  Madison  feels 
any  parental  fondness  for  his  doc- 
trine concerning  neutral  rights,  he 
will  find  an  adversary  worthy  of 
his  pen,  in  the  author  of  this  pub- 
lication. The  extreme  folly  of  the 
non -importation  law  is  also  exhib- 
ited in  a  maimer  to  confound  its 
advocates. 


Our  transactions'  with  Franco 
and  Spain  occupy  about  eighty 
pages,  and  we  could  wish  that  ev- 
ery opposer  of  the  friends  and 
measures  of  Washington  and  Ad-* 
ams  woirid  spend  two  or  three 
winter  evenings  in  reading  these 
observations.  If  he  could  finish 
the  reading  without  feeling  any 
flushes  of  indignation,  he  must 
want  the  spirit  of  this  ardent  writer, 
and  almost  the  spirit  of  a  man.— 
On  the  whole,  therefore,  we  ear-* 
nestly  recommend  this  publication 
to  our  readers. 

We  give  the  following  extracts 
from  the  pamphlet,  as  specimens 
of  the  author *s  style  : 

•  in  what  respect  arc  we,  then,  differ- 
ent from  the  subjugated  states  of  Hot- 
land;  Switzerland,  and  thfc  other  na- 
tions which  are  dependent  upon  France  ? 
We  are  fkeced  to  the  full  amount  of 
our  ability  to  pay — The  United  States 
have  no  fleets  to  add  to  the  navy  of 
France,  and  therefore  they  are  not  sub- 
jects of  maritime  requisition  as  tloU 
land  is — France  docs  not  want  soldiers^ 
for  sli€  suppljea  herself  in  Europe,  and 
in  part  from  Switzerland  ;  and  here» 
agaan,  we  arc  more  privileged  than  the. 
descendants  of  William  Tell — But, 
money  she  ever  cravea,^  and,  to  use  a 
proverb  of  her  own,  ^*  Tappciit  vieat  en, 
mangeani** — The  tfiiited  States  ai*c  cal- 
led upon,  with  the  threats  of  France 
suspended  over  their  heads^  for  million* 
of  dollars  :  and  when  we  ask,  with  a 
ruefuf  aspect,  what  she  is  to  ^ve  u«  for 
our  purse,  she  answers,  in  the  true  style 
of  ahig-hway  robber,  give  it,  or  I  hio9 
you  through  :  we  do  pvp  it,  and  then 
preach  about  the  clemency  of  those, 
wlib  raiglit  have  killed  us,  and  yet  i^mu^- 
cd  our  ciistence  ! 

Posterity  will  ask,  who  were  the 
men,  that  thus  betrayed  their  country'* 
interests  and  g-lorj'  ?  They  must  have 
been  creatures,  who  never  pretended  ta 
the  name  of  Americarf  patriots ;  they 
could  never  have  aspired  to  the  charac- 
ters of  defender*  of  their  country,  and 
guardians  of  her  gi-eatncss.'     P.  146. 

•  In  fact,  what  arc  we  ever  to  fig^ht  for, 
if  we  arc  resolved  not  to  tlcfend  our- 
ftclvos  ?  or  when  are  we  to  tuke  a  Lo*^ 


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msT.  UR.  smirruTV  ssmxcic. 


lile  at6tQ^9  unlets  at  the  hoar  ^en 
tyranny  and  injustice  are  in  array  ap^inat 
lis  ?  l>o  we  get  our  money  for  French 
masters  ?  do  the  freemen  of  the  United 
States  plough  erery  aea,  from  Green- 
land toCape  Horn,  and  round  to  Ksunta- 
^^•♦ka,  and  home  ag^  ?  do  they  yiait 
every  climate,  and  gather  the  precious 
vareaof  the  globe,  all  for  Napoleon's 
splendour  ?  And  do  the  American  arti- 
sans and  farmer*  pay  an  addition  of 
price  for  the  articles  which  they  con- 
sume, because  of  an  extra  duty  of  two 
itnd  a  half  per  cent  laid^on  certain  im- 
ported articles,  all  for  the  pockets  of 
Frenchmen  ?  What  sort  of  indepen. 
aence  is  this,  vrhlch  looks  so  like  slave- 
fy  ?  Is  this  the  spirit  of  seventy-six  ? 
In  seventy-six  we  would  not  pay  a 
fhilUng  of  tax  upon  tea,  because  they^ 
Who  asked  it,  asked  it  unjusUy  ;  and, 
now,  we  give  two  millions  of  dollars 
more,  than  the  tea  tax  would  have  come 
to  in  a^  dozen  years,  to  buy  a  peace  from 
^ranta,  wh<^  will  never  be  at  peace  with 
Independence.*    P- 155. 

•  The  prayers  of  the  good  are  ever 
ascending  to  heaven,  that  war  may  be 
Averted  from  their  country  ;  but,  when 
hs  horrours  can  no  longer  be  deferred, 
6ie  prayers  of  the  pood  are  for  success 
la  the  arms  of  a  righteous  caHse.  So 
trill  it  ever,  1  hope,  be  with  us.  They, 
who  are  privilc^d  to  approach  and  con- 
terse  with  ommpotence,  will  never  fail, 
In  their  greatest  duty,  to  pray  for  the 
happiness  of  this  free  Umd,  and  for  its 
tweservation  against  foreign  and  domes- 
feck  enemies ;  and,  surely,  he  is  no 
American,  who  would  seek  to  embroil 
ms  with  any  nation,  or  say  that,  war  was 
ftecessary,  when  peace  is  our  certain 
happiness.'    P.  175. 

ART.  69. 

ji  Sermoth  delivered  July  ^d^  1896, 
at  the  ordination  qf  the  Rev,  Jo- 
»efih  RichardiOTij  A.  M,  to  the 
pastoral  care  of  the  church  and 
congregation  of  the  first  parish  in 
lEngham^  by  the  Rev.  WilUam 
Bentleyy  A,  M,  pastor  of  the  se* 
cond  church  in  Salem. 

We  notice  this  sermon,  because 
having  read  it  through  for  that 
pittpoaei  we  do  not  choose  to  have 


to  nradi  labour  loit.  We  werei 
however,  somewhat  staggered  in 
this  determination,  as  it  is  one  of 
those  productions  which  set  end- 
cbm  at  defiance  ;  the  author  hav- 
log  apparently  sworn  (as  ShadweU 
is  said  to  have  done  by  Dryden)  t$ 
keep  no  truce  with  sense.  As  for 
general  observations,  therefore,  vi 
can  only  remark,  that,  together 
with  the  usual  appendages,  this 
discourse  forms  a  neat  pamphlet 
of  about  twenty  pages,  stitched  in 
blue,  and  piloted  at  Boston.  Tbs 
text  (wc  call  it  so  by  courtesy)  » 
part  of  the  condadiog  salutatico 
of  the  dd  Epistle  of  St.  John. 

At  no  great  dbtance  from  the 
beginning  of  the  sermon,  we  found 
the  following  cluster  of  sentences  J 

« Tmie  may  weaken  them,  [preju- 
dices] but  they  exist  in  the  characttf 
of  man.  Victory  is  not  by  consciit,  tnd 
conquests  seldom  make  friendship*. 
At  best,  we  are  in  a  countiy,  in  ^cS 
we  may  easily  excite  open  rcbcDioii. 
Not  aU  the  causes,  which  hare  cobcot- 
red  to  recommend  chniUanity,  bi« 
preserved  peace  among  iu  profeaMO. 

As  the  last  sentence  but  one  ^ 
peared  to  us  entirely  disconnected, 
we  thought,  at  first  sight,  that  it 
might  perhaps  be  a  poUucal  ob- 
servation, thrown  in  at  random. 
However,  we  shall  not  be  very  con- 
fident in  hazarding  any  opiwon 
about  Mr.  B.'s  meaning. 

After  forcing  our  way  a  little  fo- 
ther  through  the  miserable  bnisH- 
wood  of  half-grown  ideas,  wc  came 
very  abrupUy  upon  the  foUoinog. 
observations  : 

*  When  Ufe  is  sscrcdto  ff^^^. 
men  wiU  confess  iU  worth,  «;<i^^ 
virtues.  No  prejttdiccswmbe^ 
againstit  Nobiiatof  wittc»*i«*J 
BS^aperstition  ;^ilr5ii.e »t,«Bde^ 
angry  pasaionwiU  prmcninu^^^ 
Among  good  men  such  ^^^!f^^^ 
angel  Sf  their  stren^,  who  tf  i««« 
comfort  them.* 


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65^ 


tf  the  reader  can  discover  sense 
ill  tliis  passage,  it  must  be  ascrib- 
ed rather  to  his  own  sagacity,  tha^ 
to  the  author*s  manner  of  using 
the  English  language. 

The  lollowing  was  the  next  pas- 
sage, which  stopt  us  on  our  weari* 
some  progress  ;  it  being  some- 
where toward  tjije  bottom  of  the 
tjiird  page. 

•A  father  Gay  may  leave  a  good  name, 
thougii  a  witness  of  the  inteiTUptions  of- 
lii5;?.  And  a  Dr.  Price  may  have  ii\-c 
4.ui^d  a  frijeud,  whQ  could  aim  to  rob 
a^e  of  It?  divine  consolations.* 

We  confess  that  we  are  aWe  to 
form  no  conjecture  of  the  purport 
of  the  first  sentence,  which  we 
have  quoted.  Of  Dr.  Gay,  how- 
ever, who,  as  a  clergyman,  was  the 
predecessor  of  the  present  Profcs* 
8or  Ware,  we  have  heard  nothing 
but  good,  and  are  sufficiently  dis- 
pleased to  §ee  his  name  introduc- 
ed with  such  indecent  familiarity, 
into  such  a  sermon. 

We  will  now  biing  forward  an 
extract,  somewhat  longer  than  any 
we  have  yet  offered  : 

*But  though  a^od  name  may  be  the 
reward  oirintep4ty,  yet  it  is  to  be  gain- 
ed by  a  good  life.  It  seldom  accom- 
panies a  man  in  ail  part  s  of  his  hfe.  Tiie 
disposition  of  light  and  shade  in  the 
piotur.e,  serve  to  finish  it.  He,  >rfio 
seeks  no  other  recommendation,  than 

E resent  opinion  may  bring  with  it,  may 
e  seen,  in  the  worst  temptation,  to  a- 
bandon  ail  just  claim  to  virtue.  A  chris- 
Han  minister  should  not  fall  into  such 
9fi  errour.  It  is  true,  his  doctrine  is 
drawn  from  simple  records,  but  he  is 
not  tlie  only  m^in  who  has  examined 
them.  Tnith  is  pure,  but  tlie  discipUne 
of  every  christian  association  has  not 
been  drawn  from  truth  itself.  Like  a 
father,  he  may  prefer  some  ancient  ex- 
ifnple....Like  9  friend,  provide  for  a. 
«por,e  pure  state  of  apciety....  As  a  chris- 
tian, he  may  aspire  after  more  ercneroui 
rfecUon.»         ^  6  ^ 

Surely  nooi\e  will  deny  us  praise, 
^hen,  as  drudges  in  the  cause  of 
Vol.  III.  No.  12.         4L 


literature,  we  have  toiled  through 
fifteen  pages  like  this.  We  have 
not,  however,  the  heart  (like  Dog- 
berry) to  bestow  any  more  such 
tedlopsness  upon  our  readers. 

If  we  were  to  judge,  from  this 
production,  we  should  conclude, 
that  its  author  had  not  an  whole 
idea  in  his  mind.  He  certainly 
shines  as  a  distinguished  luminary 
among  those  stars,  that  Addison 
somewhere  speaks  of,  which  ray  out 
darkness.  Menenius  (in  Shakes- 
peare) says  of  Coriolanus,  that  he  is 

•*ill  0choole4 
In  boulted  language  ;   meal  and  bran 

together 
He  throws  without  distinction." 

There  is  nothing  worth  notice 
in  the  other  performances  deliver- 
ed upon  the  occasion. 

Amr.  6f. 

The  Christian  fifom'forj  a  religiott^ 
periodical  Viork,  By  a  society  for 
promoting  Chnatian  knowledge^ 
pipty^  and  charity,  A'o,  IJL  con^ 
taining  eight  aernions  on  the  mean^ 
(^religion,  Boston,  Munroe  Sc 
Francis.    \2mo.  boards^  pfi,  152, 

A  RELiaious  periodical  work, 
well  conducted,  is  always  in  place. 
The  subject,  being  of  universal  and' 
constant   importance,    should    be 
presented  in  every  form  that  pro- 
mises to  be  useful.     Small  tracts 
and  fugitive  pieces  are  among  the 
obvious  means  of  maintaining  and 
e^ctending  the  principles  and  prac- 
tice of  religion.     They  are  adapt- 
ed to  that  numerous  class  of  per- 
sons, who  want  leisure,  capacity, 
or  inclination  to  consult  volumin- 
ous and  systcmatick  works.     Pub- 
lications of  this   popular  cast  are 
peculiarly  suited  to  the  conditioa 
of  ^  pe;ople,am9ng  whom  the  read- 
ers are   many  and  the  students 
few;   and   among  whom,  conse- 
qucntj^^  Vbe  ;'ece^tjpi>  ^nd  usefuU* 


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«!^8 


€HIll»TIAS    MOSITOR. 


ness  of  books  arc  affected  by  the 
circumstances  of  their  form  and 
size.  It  must  be  admitted,  tliat 
this  avenue  to  the  minds  of  men 
has  not  been  ncq^lected  any  where, 
at  any  period,  since  the  discovery 
of  printini^,  and  may  seem  with 
us  to  be  at  present  sufficiently  oc- 
cupied by  religious  productions, 
native  and  imported,  of  every  size 
and  character.  But  in  this  wide 
field  there  is  room  for  successive 
labours.  Much  good  may  always 
be  done  by  reviving  old  works, 
■which  have  fallen  into  undeserved 
neglect ;  bringing  into  general  no- 
tice others,  which  have  a  limited 
circulation,  and  by  writing  new 
treutises  adapted  to  the  state  of 
opinions,  and  the  spirit,  taste,  and 
manners  of  the  times. 

To  conduct  and  support  a  pub- 
lication comprising  these  objects, 
IS  the  avowed  design  of  the  society 
under  whose  auspices  the  Chris- 
tian Monitor  appears.  It  is  in- 
tended to  contain,  in  a  scries  of 
numbers,  original  and  selected  es- 
says and  sermons  on  the  leading 
doctrines  and  duties  of  Christiani- 
ty, explanations  of  scripture,  pray- 
ers, meditations,  and  other  species 
of  compobitlun  on  sacred  and  mo- 
ral topicks.  In  regard  to  theolog- 
ical opinions  and  questions  of  par- 
ty the  Monitor  professes  to  be 
catholick,  and  to  give  instruction 
which  the  enlightened  8c  serious  of 
different  sentiments  may  approve. 
It  proposes  to  wear  a  practical, 
not  disputatious  aspect  ;  to  pro- 
mote irhprovertient,  not  to  foment 
contention.  It  will  therefore  not 
go  out  of  its  way  to  treat  contro- 
verted points  ;  and  when  they  ne- 
cessarily occur,  observe  the  laws 
of  christian  moderation.  In  style 
and  inanner  it  would  be  so  intelli- 
gible and  affecting,  as  may  be  re- 
quisite to  profit  and  please  the 
unlearned  ^  and  so  correct  smd  ele- 


gant, as  not  to  offend  the  taste,  nor 
forfeit  the  regard  of  more  cultivat- 
ed readers,  who,  however  informed 
in  other  respects,  have  frequently 
as  much  need  of  religious  knowl- 
edge as  the  illiterate. 

We  think  a  religious  periodical 
work  of  such  a  character  cannot 
fail  to  be  acceptable  and  useful  to 
many.  It  must  serve  to  withstand 
the  causes  of  irrcligion  and  vice 
in  general,  and  those,  which  mark 
the  present  times  and  state  of  so- 
ciety in  particular.  It  must  coun- 
teract the  effects  of  ignorance  and 
unbelief,  of  a  disposition  to  thought- 
lessness and  levity  ;  of  misguided 
zeal  and  an  arrogant,  censorious, 
and  uncharitable  temper  in  some ; 
of  indiffer,*nce  and  coldness  xa 
others.  In  one  respect,  if  the  ex- 
ecution comport  with  the  design, 
it  will  fill  a  place  hitherto  unoccu- 
pied by  .similar  publications  in  this 
countty.  The  latter  incorporate 
with  their  practical  instruction  , 
speculative  principles,  which  are 
contested,  and  particular  phrase- 
ology, by  many  deemed  exception- 
able. This  work  professes  to  a- 
void  resting  the  tinith  or  cxcelltmcc 
of  Christianity  upon  the  certainty 
or  value  of  those  tenets,  or  the 
propriety  of  those  phrases  which 
have  for  ages  divided  and  disturbed 
the  christian  world.  It  must  there- 
fore be  suited  to  those,  who  feel 
incompetent  and  indisposed  to  be 
controvertists  ;  and  who  would  ha^c 
acreed,compri!singthe  general  and 
evident  doctrines  of  revelation,  un- 
perplexed  \\ilh  the  sublilties  cf 
metaphysicks  and  unincumbered 
with  the  dogmas  of  technical  the- 
ology. One  class  of  persons  only 
cannot  endure  such  a  method  of 
teaching  and  inculcating  the  chris- 
tian religion.  It  consists  of  those» 
who  regai-d  Christianity,  when  re- 
presented without  their  ptirtiiiar 
and  favourite  constructions  and  in- 


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fercnccs,  as  ^oo4  for  nothing  ; 
and  a  christian,  not  belonging  to 
their  party,  nor  using  their  phrase- 
ology, as  no  better  than  a  heathen. 
But  as  the  dissatisfaction  of  these 
persons  with  the  design  of  the 
Monitor  is  founded  on  what,  in  the 
opinion  of  its  editors,  constitutes 
its  merit,  the  latter  cannot  be  ex- 
pected to  prevent  or  remove  it. 

We  had  occasion  to  commend 
the  former  numbers  of  the  Moni- 
tor, as  adapted  to  its  professed  end. 
We  spoke  of  the  first,  especially 
in  the  second  edition,  as  an  excel- 
lent manual  of  devotion  ;  and  of 
the  second,  as  a  happy  illustration 
of  the  nature  and  spirit  of  practical 
Christianity,  as  tbey  are  displayed 
in  the  character  and  conduct  of 
our  Saviour. 

The  presejit  number  is  upon  the 
Means  of  religron.  It  treats  of  the 
imfiortance  and  utility  of  reli^oua 
means  in  general^  religious  consid- 
eration^ firayer,  the  religious  obser- 
vance of  the  sabbathy  publick  war- 
shifiy  hearing  the  nvordy  reading  the 
holy  scri/itures^  and  religious  co7> 
versation. 

These  are  topicks  at  once  sea- 
enable  and  important.  It  is  very 
possible  and  has  been  very  com- 
mon in  religion  to  lay  undue  stress 
upon  instrumental  duties  and  ex- 
ternal performances.  Enthusiasm 
has  idolized  its  reveries  and  su- 
perstition rested  upon  rites  and 
forms.  Mankind,  wishing  for  a 
cheap  religion,  have  substituted  the 
means  for  the  ^pd,  the  sign  for 
the  thing  signified,  the  foim  fcr 
the  power  of  godliness.  It  hi.  far  - 
more  easy  to  be  orthodox,  than 
good  ;  to  maintain  a  grave  extc- 
riour,  than  inward  sanctity  ;  to 
separate  seasons  for  devout  exer- 
cises, than  to  connect  piety  with 
the  course  of  ordinary  life.  It 
costs  far  less  self-denial  to  roll  the 
eye,  than  to  lift  the  soul  to  God, 
said  .to  bend  .our  k^ee^  thui  to 


humble  our  pride.  Men  can  read 
the  scriptures,  so  as  to  become  ac-' 
complished  textuaries  ;  and  yet 
be  strangers  to  the  spirit  breathed 
in  the  word  of  God.  They  can  be 
pious  with  the  mouth  and  tongue, 
and  talk  earnestly  in  all  places  and 
companies  upon  serious  subjects, 
^d  yet  grossly  fail  to  live  as  they 
profess.  "  A  pharisec's  trumpet, 
says  an  old  writer,  shall  be  heard 
to  the  to\\Ti*s  end,  when  simplicity 
walks  through  the  town  unseen." 
"  Observed  duties  maintain  our 
credit,  but  secret  duties  maintain 
our  life." 

But  the  danger  to  the  cause  of 
religipn  among  us  probably  arise* 
from  another  extieme  ;  and  we 
have  less  reason  to  fear  the  prev- 
alence of  superstition,  hypocrisy, 
and  enthusiasm,  than  indifl'erence, 
scepticism,  and  a  mistaken  liber- 
ality. A  great  number,  including 
some  who  have  the  character  of 
enlightened  men,  able  to  rise  above 
the  poAver  of  prejudice,  are  more 
inclined  to  undervalue  and  neglect 
the  forms  and  means  of  religion, 
than  to  exalt  them  into  a  dispro- 
portionate imi>ortance.  They  have 
a  disposition  to  depreciate  instru- 
mental and  positive  duties  ;  to 
consider  themselves  above  the  need 
of  such  assistances  to  piety,  and 
that  if  they  cultivate  its  spirit,  they 
have  no  occasion  to  trouble  them- 
selves about  its  ceremonies.  Hence 
they  look  to  be  religious,  without 
meditation  and  prayer.  They  re- 
ject the  aid  of  publick  solemnities, 
ffv  attend  them  without  serious- 
ness. Many  are  becoming  inclin- 
ed to  remove  the  "  mark  of  dis- 
crimmation  from  the  christian  sab- 
bath, and  to  blend  it  in  the  mass  of 
unhallowed  days."  The  custom 
of  reacUng  the  scriptures,  once  so 
general,  is  falling  into  neglect,  and 
serious  topicks  are  very  much  ex- 
cluded from  conversation. 

Tlic  volume  under  review  disj- 


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cAkisTiAii  iidfrif ei. 


plays  flic  obligation  and  advantage 
of  6ome  of  those  exercised,  called 
the  means  of  religion,  in  a  very  sat* 
isfactory  and  engaging  manner — 
They  are  here  represented  both  as 
holding  an  important  place  in  the 
scale  of  human  duties,  and  as  ne- 
cessary and  suitable  means  for  tlie 
formation  of  a  virtuous  and  piouS 
character.     These  discourses  art 
marXed  by  good  sense,  just  theolo- 
gy, and  a  style  easy,  perspicuous, 
and  pleasing.  The  author  illustrates 
and  enforces  the  sentiments  he  ad- 
vances, not  only  by  apt  citations  of 
passages  of  scripture,  but  by  occa- 
sional extracts  from  the  works  of 
divines  of  venerable  name-     In  re- 
viewing a  production  of  this  kind 
it  is  not  proper  to  try  every  ex- 
pression by  the  rules  of  strict  crit- 
icism ;  though  in  a  literary  view, 
and  as  a  specimen   of   accurate 
composition,  this  volume  is  highly 
riespectable.       But    whatever    is 
written  with  a  design  to  make  men 
good  should  be  estimated,  not  so 
much  by  its  literary  execution  as 
by  its  tendency  to  effect  its  leading 
purpose.     Whoever,  be  he  learn- 
ed or  unlearned,  shajl  read  these 
sermons  with   a  desire  of  being 
made  wiser  and  better  ;    of  being 
infornied  and  excited  in  his  duty, 
%vill  not  need  to  be  told  that   they 
are  entitled  to  commendation.  We 
present  two  extracts ;  the  one  from 
the  sermon  on  "  religious  consid- 
eration,"  the  other  from  the  ser- 
mon "on  prayer." 

*  Behold  then  the  man  who  imitates 
the  laudable  example  of  tlic  ps:ilmiat, 
and  adopts  a  measure  favourable  to  his 
recovery  from  guilt  and  misery  to  vir- 
tue  and  glory.  Koused  from  the  vision- 
nary  dream  of  lasting  peace  and  com- 
fort, independent  of  the  approbation 
and  favour  of  his  God,  he  takes  a  com- 
prehensive view  of  the  nature,  circum- 
sCances,  and  relations  of  his  being  ;  and 
diligently  inquires  to  what  end  he  was 
bom,  and  for  what  purpose  he  came  in- 
to the  world  }    He  contemplates  the 


h^AVens  ftid  th^  earth  wifh  Uie^MtftJ 
attention,    and  is    penetrated    witb    a 
sense  of  the  wisdom,  power,  and   be- 
nevolence   of   their    glonous    atitiior, 
which  he  has  not  been  accustomed  ta 
feel.      He  turns  his  though*ts  within  ; 
and,  in  tiie  curious  fitrticture  of  feii  bo- 
dy,  and  the  wondeHol  properties  of  hi« 
soul»  recognizes  incontestible  evideore 
of  his  derivation  from  an  infmite  inteUI* 
gence,  to  wUom  he  js  indebted   for  ex- 
istcrfce  aild  all  its  blessings.     He   re- 
counts the  numerous  tokens  of  fHtf-eiiul 
kindness,  which  he  has  received  hrm 
his  heavenly  father^  in  the  distinguxsb- 
ed  rank  allotted  him  among^  the   crea- 
tures of  God  ;  in  the  abundant  pfTOvi- 
sioD  made  for  his  subsistence    ai^  ac- 
commodation ;  and  in  the  still  more  il- 
lustrious manifestations  of  grsce  and 
truth  for  his  eternal  redemption  by  Je- 
sus Chiist.      Convinced  by  these  benef- 
icent   arrangements  and  sigTial    inter* 
positions,  that  mun  is  formed  for  mori 
dignity  and  durable    enjo}Tnent  thm 
earth  can  boast,  it  becomes  a  questlco 
of  the  first  magnitude,    whether   hk 
have  not  pursued  the  shadow  to  the 
neglect  of  the  substance,  and  relied  for 
happiness  on  nossei>Sions  and   gratifica- 
tions incapable  of  yielding  it?  He  tbere- 
fore,  **  thinks  on  his  ways  ;"  con&iderl 
witli  hi  Itself,  what  fruit  be  has  alr^aify 
bad,  and  whut  he  is  yet  to  expect  from 
the  coui-se  he  has  tiiken.     Past  experi- 
ence thus  called  to  testify  bears  witnesi 
that  no  sensual  indulgence,  or  worWf 
acquisition  has  afforded    the   bliss  il 
promised ;  that  forbidden  pleasures  nv 
always  empty  in  participation  and  <fis- 
gusting  in  review  ;  and  that  the  gains 
of  ungt>dliness  are  inviiriably  attended 
with  remorse  and  foreboding  fear.  Th6 
more  he  reflects,  the  more  sensibly  dcie* 
he  feel,  that  nothing  below  the  sim  it 
adequate  to  the  desires  and  capa^ntiei 
of  an  immortal  mind  ;    and  the  more 
clearly  does  he  see,  that  *•  the  wage4 
of  sin  is  death*'  ;  that  beside  the  paat 
and  sufTerings,  which  it  inflicts  in  tini 
Kfe,  and  which  not  itnfrequently  basCdl 
the  hour  of  dissolution,  it  entails  thf 
most  insupportable  enls  on  its  deluded 
votaries  beyond  the  gnive.*   /.  3^- 

*  S.  To  pray  for  our  connexions  and 
friends,  serves  to  purify  domestick  and 
social  att:;chments  ;  and  to  inspire  prin- 
ciples snd  views,  whieh  exalt  the  ordi- 
nary intercharge  of  civility  and  kuidnesi 
into  religious  obedience. 

This  is  a  most  eficciuai.  method  of 


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Ml 


0<!^dioi^,  and  charitjr^  in  the  treAtm^nt 
of  those,  with  whom  we  are  destined 
to    live    and    converse.      Without    it, 
though  we  prescribe  mles  to  ourselves, 
and  say  to  the  selfish  and  anffi^  passions, 
•'  hitherto  shall  ye  come,  but  no  fup« 
ther,'*   we  may,  notwhh^taAding,    he 
transported  beyond  th^  bounds  of  mod- 
eration, and  involved  in  the  crimes  and 
miseries   o^  unreasonable    animosity  : 
With  it,  religion  is  made  the  umpire  o^ 
our  conduct,   and  the  qn^ition    comea 
home  to  otir  hosonis  j   how  can  we  bfe 
unjust  or  censorious  to  those  wliom  we 
are  accustomed  to  commend  to  the  guar- 
dian care  and  grace  of  God  ?  The  many 
petitions,  in  which  we  have  plead  for 
ifiercy  in  their  behalf,  Will  tenet  upon 
our  own  hearts,  and,calUrtg  into  eiercUfe 
our  benevolent  sensibilities,  iumish  the 
strongest  incentives  to  that    affection- 
ate and  conciliating  deportment,  which 
beside  its  conformity  to  tlie  gospel  of 
Christ,  and  the  Attendant  proSp)ect  of  a 
future  rew^ird,  is  adapted  to  engfase  tlie 
confidence  and  esteem  of  all  within  the 
sphei^  of  its  influence.  Than  this  prac- 
tice, what  can  more  effectually  ensure 
a  uniform  and  faithful  discharge  of  tlie 
Various  duties,  Which  result  from  the 
cbnjugal,  parental,  fiUal,  fraternal,  and 
•ther  intimate  relations  of  human  Hfe. 
It  sanetifies,  cements,  |md  endears  the 
union  between  husband  and  wife.      It 
encourages  and  directs  parents  in  the 
instruction  and    government  of  their 
household.    It  heightens  the  gratitude, 
docility,  and  submission  of  children.    It 
excites  and  aids  brethren  to  **  dwell  to- 
gether in  unity.**    That  family,  whose 
heads  and  members  bear  eacn  other  in 
xhind  at  tlieir  sectet  devotions;    And, 
fWqaently  appearing  btfbre  God  in  com* 
pany,  jointly  tall  u^n  his  name  for  ft 
lupply  of  their  individual  and  collective 
w^nts,  must,  of  course,  be  impressed 


wHh  a  i^s<«  «f  fh^l*  t^s]k!^eiV«  omt04« 
tion^,  Which  WtU  pervade  et^ty  doiitel*^ 
tkk  irenftaction,  alleviate  tVcry  burden, 
and  increase  every  joy.  /^.  66, 67. 

ART.  70. 

A  wreath/or  the  Rrv,  Daniel  Dow, 
/lafitor  of  a  church  in  Thom/isorij 
Connecticut  ;  on  the  ptMcation 
qf  his  familiar  letters  in  answer 
to  the  Rev,  John  Sherman^s  trea^ 
tise  of  one  (xod  in  one  p^erson  only^ 
b'c.  ByJ.O.F.  Utica, Merrcll 
Sc  Seward.     1806.  8vo. 

BY  reverting  to  the  ftihcteenth 
Mid  twentieth  articles  of  our  Re* 
▼iew  for  the  current  year,  the  the- 
ological reader  will  readily  dis* 
cern  tlie  purport  of  this  controver- 
sial tract*  its  author,  a  warm 
friend  of  Mr.  Sherman  and  of  h'\^ 
unitarian  Sentiments,  endeavours 
lo  support  them  ;  presses  on  hirj 
antagonist  the  protestant  rule  of 
the  perfection  and  sufficiency  of 
scripture  \  and,  it  must  be  confess* 
ed,  detects  a  number  of  errours^ 
not  to  say  absurdities,  in  the  "  fa- 
miliar letters."  A.  O,  F.  appears 
to  think  that  he  is  justified  by  the 
example  of  the  letter-writer  in  ap- 
proaching him  without  any  cere- 
mony. He  is  sometimes  serious 
and  sometimes  ludicrous,  but  uni- 
formly severe  ;  so  full  of  sarcasm 
and  personal  reflection S}and  dealing 
his  blows  with  so  heavy  a  hand^  bs 
makes  us  almost  quake  for  the 
laeeratcd  feelings  of  the  Rev« 
Daniel.  Dow. 


ON  THE    LITERARY  CHARACTER 

or 

DR.  FRjIA'KLIM 


FROM    A     CBLBnaAlCD   SNOLXSH    PUBLICATION. 


Notmi^Oj  we  think,  can  shew 
morfe  clearly  the  singular  want  of 
literary  enterprize  or  activity  in 
the  States  of  America,  than  that 
po  one  has  yet  been  found  in  that 


fiourisbing  republick  to  collect 
and  publisii  the  works  of  their  on- 
ly  philosopher.  It  is  not  even 
very  creditable  to  the  liberal  curio* 
sity  of  the  English   publick,  tliat 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


663 


©».  F»ANKlHff*S   LiTXKAJtT   CHARACTEIl. 


there  should  have  been  no  com- 
plete edition  of  the  writings  of  Dr. 
Franklin,  till  the  year  1806  :  and 
we   should   have  been  altogether 
unable  to  accouni  for  the  imper- 
fect and  unsatisfactory  manner  in 
which  the  task  has  now  been  per- 
formed, if  it  had  not  been  for  a 
statement  in  the  prefatory  adver- 
tisement, which  removes  all  blame 
from  the  editor,  to  attach  it  to  a 
higher  quarter.     It  is  there  stated, 
that  recently  after  the  death  of  the 
author,  his  grandson,  to  whom  the 
whole  of  his  papers  had  been  be- 
queathed, made  a  voyage  to  Lon- 
don, for  the  purpose  x)f  preparing 
and  disposing  of  a  complete  col- 
lection of   all   his  published  and 
unpublished    writings,  with   me- 
moirs of  his  life,  brought  down  by 
himself  to  the  year  1757,  and  con- 
tinued to  Ihs  death  by  his  descen- 
dant.    It  was  settled,  that  the  work 
should  be  published  in  three  quar- 
to volumes,  in  England,  Germany, 
and  France  ;    and  a  negociation 
was  commenced  \\ith  the  book- 
sellers, as  to  the -terms  of  the  pur- 
chase and  publication.      At  this 
stage  of  the  business,  however,  the 
proposals    were   suddenly     with- 
drawn, and  nothing  more  has  been 
heard  of  the  work  in  this  its  fair 
and  natural   market.     "  The  pro- 
prietor, it  seems,  had  found  a  bid- 
der of  a  different  description,  in 
some  emissary  of  govemmefit^whose 
object  was  to  withhold  the  manu- 
scripts from  the  world,  not  to  ben- 
efit it  by  their  publication  ;    and 
thty  thus  either  passed  into  other 
hands,  or  the  person  to  whom  they 
were  bequeathed  received  a  remu- 
neration for  sufifiressing  them." 

If  this  statement  be  correct,  we 
have  no  hesitation  in  saying,  that 
no  emissary  of  Government  was 
ever  employed  on  a  more  miser- 
able and  unwoilhy  service.  It  is 
ludicrous  to  talk  of  the  danger  of 


disclosing,  in  17§5,  any  secrets  of 
state,  with  regard  to  the  war  of 
American  independence  ;  and  as 
to  any  anecdotes  or  observations 
that  might  give  offence  to  Individ- 
i^s,  we  think  it  should  always  be 
remembered,  that  publick  func- 
tionaries are  the  property  of  the 
publick,  that  their  character  be- 
longs to  history  and  to  posterity, 
and  that  it  is  equally  absurd  and 
discreditable  to  think  of  sup/ireu' 
inff  any  part  of  the  evidence,  by 
which  their  merits  must  be  ulti- 
mately determined.  But  the 
whole  of  the  works  that  have  been 
suppressed,  certainly  did  not  relate 
to  republican  politicks.  The  his- 
tory of  the  author's  life,  down  to 
1757,  could  not  well  contain  any 
matter  of  offence ;  and  a  variety 
of  general  remarks  and  specula- 
tions, which  he  is  understood  to 
have  left  behind  him,  might  have 
been  permitted  to  see  the  light, 
though  his  diplomatick  operations 
had  been  interdicted.  The  emis- 
sary of  Government,  however, 
probably  took  no  care  pf  these 
things  ;  he  was  resolved '  to  leave 
no  rubs  i^or  botches  in  his  work; 
and,  to  stifle  the  dreaded  revela- 
tion, he  thought  the  best  way  was 
to  strangle  all  the  innocents  in  the 
vicinage. 

Tliis  self-taught  American  is 
the  most  rational,  perhaps,  of  all 
philosophers.  He  never  los^ 
sight  of  common  sense  in  any  of 
his  speculations  ;  and  when  htf 
philosophy  does  not  consist  entire- 
ly in  its  fair  and  vigorous  applicaj 
tion,  it  is  always  regulated  and 
controuled  by  it  in  its  application 
and  result.  No  individual,  per- 
haps, ever  possessed  a  juster  un- 
derstanding, or  was  so  seldom  cm> 
structed  in  the  use  of  it  \xy\^^ 
lence,  enthusiasm,  or  authority. 

Dr.Franklin  received  no  regular 
education ;  and  he  spent  the  great? 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


BR.  rilANKLIN*l(   LITERARY    f HAHACTXR. 


€6S 


er  part  of  his  life  in  a  society 
where  there  was  no  relish,  and  no 
encouragement  for  literature.  On 
an  ordinary  mind  these  circum- 
stances would  have  produced  their 
usual  effects,  of  repressing  all  sort 
of  intellectual  ambition  or  activ- 
ity, and  perpetuating  a  generation 
of  incurious  mechunicks ;  but  to  an 
understanding  like  Franklin's,  we 
cannot  help  confeidering  them  as 
peculiarly  propitious,  and  imagine 
that  we  can  trace  back  to  them, 
distinctly,  almost  all  the  peculiari- 
ties of  his  intellectual  character. 

Regular  education,  we  think,  is 
unfavourable  to  vigour  or  origina- 
Hty  of  understanding.     Like  civil- 
ization, it  makes  society  more  in- 
telligent and  agreeable  ;    but  il  le- 
vels    the   distinctions   of    nature. 
It  strengthens   and  assists  the  fee- 
ble ;    but  it  deprives  the  strong  of 
bis  triumph,   and   casts   down  the 
hopes  of  the  aspiring.     It  accom- 
plishes this,  not  only  by  training 
up  the  mind  in  an  habitual  venera- 
tion for  authorities,  but,  by  leading 
us  to  bestow  a  disproportionate  de- 
gree of  attention  upon  studies  that 
are  only  valuable  as  keys  or  instru- 
ments for  the  understanding,  they 
come  at  last  to  be  regarded  as  ulti- 
timate  objects  of  pursuit ;  and  the 
means  of  education   are  absurdly 
mistaken  for  its  end.     How  many 
powerful  understandings  have  been 
lost  in  the  Dialecticks  of  Aristotle ! 
and  of  how  much  good  philosophy 
are  we  daily  defrauded,  by  the  pre- 
posterous errour  of  taking  a  know- 
ledge of  prosody  for  useful  learn- 
ing I     The  mind   of  a  man,  who 
has  escaped   this  training,  will  at 
least  have  fair  play.      Whatever 
other  errours  he  may   fall  into,  he 
will  be  safe  at  least  from  these  in- 
fatuations.     If  he  thinks  proper, 
after  he  grows  up,  to  study  Greek, 
it  will  be  for  some  better  purpose, 
than  to  become  acquainted  with  its 
^lcct«.    His  prejudices  will  be 


those  of  a  man,  and  not  of  a 
schoolboy  ;  and  his  speculatioi>9 
and  conclusions  will  be  indepen- 
dent of  the  maxims  of  tutors,  and 
the  oracles  of  literary  patrons. 

The  consequences  of  living  in 
a  refined  and  literary  community 
are  nearly  of  the  same  kind  with 
those  of  a  regular  education* 
There  arc  so  many  criticks  to  be 
satisfied — so  many  qualifications 
to  be  established — so  many  rivals 
to  encounter,  and  so  much  deris- 
ion to  be  hazarded,  that  a  young 
man  is  apt  to  be  deterred  from  so 
perilous  an  enterprize,  and  led  to 
seek  for  distinction  in  some  safer 
line  of  exenion.  He  is  discou- 
raged by  the  fame  and  the  perfec- 
tion of  certain  models  and  &- 
vourites,  who  are  always  in  the 
mouths  of  his  judges,  and,  *  under 
them,  his  genius  is  rebuked,'  and 
his  originality  repressed,  till  he 
sinks  into  a  paltry  copyist,  or  aims 
at  distinction,  by  extravagance  and 
affectation.  In  such  a  state  of  so- 
ciety, he  feels  that  mediocrity  has 
no  chance  of  distinction  ;  and 
what  beginner  can  expect  to  rise 
at  once  into  excellence  ?  He  im- 
agines that  mere  good  sense 
will  attract  no  attention  ;  and  that 
the  manner  is  of  much  more  im- 
portance than  the  matter,  in  a  can- 
didate for  publick  admiration.  In 
his  attention  to  the  manner,  the 
matter  is  apt  to  be  neglected ;  and, 
in  his  solicitude  to  please  those 
who  require  elegance  of  diction, 
brilliancy  of  wit,  or  harmony  of 
periods,  he  is  in  some  danger  of 
forgetting  that  strength  of  reason, 
and  accui'acy  of  observation,  by 
which  he  first  propose  to  recom- 
mend himself.  His  attciuion, 
when  extended  to  so  many  collate- 
ral objects,  is  no  longer  vigor- 
ous or  collected,— the  stream  di- 
vided into  so  many  channels, 
ceases  to  flow  either  deep  or 
strong  ;^— he  becomes  an '  unsiic- 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


tH 


9|l.  VE4V|M4N'f  X4T^ftAl|¥   CMAWiKCTtU 


fessfiiV  pretei^d^  to  &ne  Kcinngy 
^nd  19  s»ti«fi^4  ^h  the  frivolous 
praif^e  of  elef^ance  or  vivacity. 

W«  9r«$  dispo^tul  to  ascribe  so 
much  power  to  the^e  obstructions 
|o  iutell^cHAal  originality,  tUat  we 
cannot  help  fancying,  that^  if 
Franklin  had  beep  bf^d  in  a  col- 
lege he  would  hav^  contented 
himttslf  wit|i  ei^poi^ndin^  the  i^e^ 
Ires  of  Pindar,  ^nd  mixing  argu- 
Tuent  with  hi«  port  in  the  con>- 
xnon  rppm  ;  and  th^  if  Boston 
had  abounded  with  men  of  letters, 
h^  would  never  had  ventured  to 
f:ome  forth  from  his  printing* 
house,  or  been  driven  bacV  to  it,  at 
any  rate,  by  the  si)eerB  of  the  cri- 
ticks,  pifter  the  iirsjt  publication  of 
hi»  essays  in  the  3usy  Body* 

This  will  probably  be  thought 
•^Mtggerated  ;  but  it  cannot  be  de^ 
pied,  we  thinly,  that  the  contrary 
circumstances  in  his  history  bad  a. 
powerful  effect  in  determining 
the  ^b^racter  of  bis  undcrst^i^4- 
ing,  and  in  producing  those  pe^- 
iidr  h^its  of  reasoning  and  lAves- 
ti^tion  by  which  his  writings  a^ 
distinguished.  He  was  encourag* 
cd  to  pubUsb,  because  there  was 
scarcely  ^y  one  around  h^m  whem 
he  couW  not  easily  ^itce|.  H# 
ivrole  with  great  brevity,  because 
he  ha4  not  leisure  for  more  voUi^ 
minous  compositions,  and  because 
he  knew  that  the  readers  to  who^ 
he  addressed  himself  vf^vfi^  for  th^ 
most  part,  as  busy  9s  hupself. 
for  the  same  reason,  he  studied 
great  perspicuity  and  simplicity  of 
9tatement :  his  couuitrymcn  ha4 
DO  relish  for  Hn^  wiiting,  and 
could  not  easily  be  made  to  under* 
stand  9  deduction  depending  on  a 
Jong  or  elaborate  process  of  rea^ 
«gning»  He  ikvas  forced,  therefpre, 
to  concGiiitrate  whgt  be  had  to^ay ) 
and  sm^^  he  had  no  chance  of  he-! 
jng  admired  for  :the  beauty  of  his 
composition,  it  was  natural  for 
Hm  to  siuk  at  fi»«lung  mxi  wj>r^* 


sion  by  the  force  and  tht  cltaitic^ 
of  his  statements. 

His  conclusions  were  often  rash 
and  inaccurate,  frons  the  sanie 
circumstances  which  rendered  bii 
productions  concise.  Philosopbjr 
and  speculation  did  not  form  the 
business  of  his  life  ;  nor  did  be 
dedicate  himself  to  any  particular 
study,  with  a  view  to  exhaust  atu) 
complete  the  investigadon  of  it  in 
all  its  parts,  and  under  all  its  rela- 
tions. He  engaged  in  every  inte- 
resting inquiry  that  suggested  it- 
self to  him,  rather  as  the  necessa- 
ry exercise  of  a  powerful  and  ac- 
tive mipd,  than  as  a  task  which  he 
had  bound  himself  to  perform. 
^e  cast  a  quick  ^nd  penetraiiog 
glance  over  the  facts  and  the  dat0. 
that  were  presented  to  him ;  and 
drew  his  conclusions  with  a  rapid- 
ity and  precision  that  have  not  of- 
ten beep  equalled  ;  but  he  did  not 
§top  to  examine  the  completeness 
of  the  fiata  upon  which  he  prp- 
ceeded,  nor  to  consider  the  uldnjatc 
effect  or  application  of  the  princi- 
ples to  wliich  he  had  been  conduc- 
ted. In  all  questions,  therefore, 
yhere  the  fucts  upon  which  he 
was  to  dctei*minei  and  the  materi- 
als from  which  his  judgment  was 
to  be  formed,  were  cither  few  in 
U  umber,  or  of  such  a  mature  w 
not  to  be  overlooked,  his  reason* 
ings  are  for  the  most  part  ptiTccl? 
ly  just  and  conclu^iive,  and  his  de- 
cisions ufiexceptionahty.  spundj 
but  where  the  elements  of  the  cal» 
pulation  were  more  numeixj^s  an4 
yvidcly  scattered,  it  appears  to  uf 
that  he  has  oficn  been  precipiut^ 
and  that  he  has  either  been  i?iisic4 
by  a  ))artial  apprehcni>ion  of  tbf 
conditions  of  tiie  problem,  or  \m 
iiiscovered  only  a  portion  of  th? 
^•uth  wluch  lay  before  hii».  ^ 
^1  physical  inquiries  ;  in  almost 
^  questions  of  partjcijdar  bM  ^f 
mediate  poUey  ;  and  in  mii(;h  of 
wi^a^  r^I^^  U^  the  practical  wi^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


LITSRAmT  CRARA«TBR  OF  DK.  tHAlTKLIir. 


%%$ 


dom  and  the  happiness  of  private 
life,  his  views  ^eill  be  found  to  be 
admirable,  and  the  reasoning  by 
which  they  arc  supported  most 
masterly  and  convincing.  But  upon 
subjects  of  general  politicks,  of  ab- 
stract morality,  and  political  eco- 
nomyi  his  notions  appear  to  be 
more  unsatisfactory  and  incom- 
plete. He  seems  to  have  wanted 
leisure,  and  perhaps  inclination  al- 
so, to  spread  out  before  him  the 
whole  vast  premises  of  these  ex- 
ten»ve  sciences,  and  scarcely  to 
have  had  patience  to  hunt  for  his 
conclusions  through  so  wide  and 
intricate  a  region  as  that  upon 
which  they  invited  him  to  enter. 
He  has  been  satisfied,  therefore,  on 
every  occasion,  with  reasoning  from 
a  very  limited  view  of  the  facts, 
and  often  from  a  particular  in- 
stance ;  he  has  done  all  that  saga- 
city and  sodtld  sense  could  do  with 
auch  materials  ;  but  it  cannot  ex- 
cite wonder,  if  he  has  sometimes 
overlooked  an  essential  part  of  the 
argument,  and  often  advanced  a 
particular  truth  into  the  place  of  a 
general  principle.  He  seldom 
reasoned  upon  these  subjects  at  all, 
we  believe,  without  having  some 
practical  application  of  them  im« 
mediately  in  view  ;  and  as  he  be- 
gan the  investigation  rather  to  de- 
termine a  particular  case,  than  to 
establish  a  general  maxim,  so  he 
probably  desisted  as  soon  as  he  had 
relieved  himself  of  the  present  dif* 
ficulty. 

There  are  not  many  among  the 
thorough  bred  scholars  and  phi- 
losophers of  Europe,  who  can  lay 
claim  to  distinction  in  more  than 
one  or  two  departments  of  science 
or  literature.  The  uneducated 
tradesman  of  America  has  left 
4viiungs,  thai  call  for  our  attention, 
in  natural  philosophyr-^in  poli« 
ticksr— in  political  economy r— and 
in  general  literature  and  morality. 

Vol.  m.  No.  13.         4M 


Dr..  Franklin,  wc  think,  had 
never  made  use  of  the  mathemat- 
icks,  in  his  investigation  of  itit 
phenomena  of  nature ;  and  though 
this  may  render  it  surprising  that 
he  has  fallen  into  so  few  errours  of 
importance,  we  conceive  that  it 
helps  in  some  measure  to  explain 
the  unequalled  perspicuity  and  vi- 
vacity of  his  expositions.  An  al- 
gebraist, who  can  work  wonders 
with  letters,  seldom  condescends 
to  be  much  indebted  to  words,  and 
thinks  himself  entitled  to  make  his 
sentences  obscure,  provided  his 
calculations  be  distinct.  A  writer 
who  has  nothing  but  words  to 
make  use  of,  must  make  all  the 
use  he  can  of  them  :  he  cannot 
afford  to  neglect^  the  only  chance 
he  has  of  being  understood. 

We  should  now  say  something 
of  the  political  writings  of  Dr. 
Franklin^-^the  productions  which 
first  raised  him  into  pubiick  ofRce 
and  eminence,  and  which  will  be 
least  read  or  attended  to  by  pos- 
terity. They  may  be  divided  into 
two  parts;  those  which  relate  to 
the  internal  affairs  and  provincial 
differences  of  the  American  colo- 
nies, before  their  quarrel  with  the 
mother  country  ;  and  those  which 
relate  to  that  quarrel  and  its  con- 
sequences. The  former  are  no 
longer  in  any  degree  interesting  : 
and  the  editor  has  done  wisely,  wp 
think,  in  presenting  his  readers 
with  an  abstract  only  of  the  long- 
est of  them  ;  this  was  pubHshoi 
in  1759,  uiKier  the  title  of  an  His- 
torical Review  of  the  Constitution 
of  Pennsylvania,  and  con»sted  of 
upwards  of  500  pages,  composed 
for  the  purpose  of  shewing,  that  the 
political  privileges  reserved  to  the 
founder  of  the  cok>ny  had  been  il- 
legally and  oppressively  used.— 
The  Canada  pan^hlet,  written  in 
1760,  for  the  purpose  of  pointing 
out  the  importance  of  i^itainuig 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


€64 


»R.   raAKKLlN  8  LITBRAET   CMAaAGTXB. 


that  colony  at  the  peace»  is  giyen 
entire  ;  and  appears  to  be  compo- 
sed with  great  force  of  reason,  and 
in  a  style  of  extraordinary  perspic- 
uity. The  same  may  be  said  of 
what  are  called  the  Albany  papers, 
or  the  plan  for  a  general  political 
union  of  the  colonies  in  1754  ;  and 
of  a  variety  of  other  tracts  %n  the 
provincial  politicks  of  that  day.  AH 
these  are  worth  preserving,  both 
as  monuments  of  Dr.  Franklin's 
talents  and  activity,  and  as  afford- 
ing, in  many  places,  very  excellent 
models  of  strong  reasoning  and 
popular  eloquence  ;  but  the  inter- 
est of  the  subjects  is  now  com- 
pletely g^ne  by  :  and  the  few  spe- 
cimens of  general  reasoning  which 
we  meet  with  serve  only  to  increase 
our  regret,  that  the  talents  of  the 
author  should  have  been  wasted 
on  such  perishable  materials. 

There  is  not  much  written  on 
the  subject  of  die  dispute  with  the 
colonies  ;  and  most  of  Dr.  Frank- 
lin's papers  on  that  subject  are  al- 
ready well  known  to  the  publick. 
His  examination  before  the  House 
of  Commons  in  1766,  affords  a 
Striking  proof  of  the  extent  of  his 
information,  the  clearness  and  force 
of  his  extem/iore  composition,  and 
the  steadiness  and  self-possession, 
Viach  enabled  him  to  display  these 
qualities  with  so  much  effect  upon 
such  an  occasion.  His  letters  be- 
fore the  commencement  of  hostili- 
ties, are  fiill  of  grief  and  anxiety  ; 
but,  no  sooner  did  matters  come 
to  extremities,  than  he  appears  to 
have  assumed  a  certain  keen  and 
confident  cheerfulness,  not  unmix- 
ed with  a  seasoning  of  asperity, 
and  more  vindictiveness  of  spirit, 
than  perhaps  became  a  philosopher. 

None  of  Dr.  Franklin's  political 
writings,  during  the  nine  years 
when  he  resided  as  Ambassadour 
at  the  Court  of  France,  have  yet 
been  made  publick.  Some  of  them, 


we  should  imagine,  must  be  high* 
ly  interesting. 

Of  the  merit  of  this  author  as  t 
political  economist,  we  liave  al- 
ready had  occasion  to  say  some- 
thing, in  the  general  remarks  which 
we  made  on  the  character  of  his 
genius  ;  and  we  cannot  now  spare 
time  to  go  much  into  particulars. 
He  is  perfectly  soivnd  upon  many 
important  and  practical  points  ;— 
upon  the  corn-tradcy  and  the  theory 
of  money,  for  instance  ;  and  also 
upon  the  more  general  doctrines, 
as  to  the  freedom  of  commerce, 
and  the   principle  of  populatioQ. 
In  the  more  elementary  and  ab- 
stract parts  of  the  science,  how- 
ever, his  views  seem  to  have  been 
less  just  and  luminous.    He  is  not 
very   consistent  or   profound,  in 
what  he  says  of  the  effects  of  lux- 
ury ;  and  seems  to  have  gone  head- 
long into  the  radical  errouroflbc 
JEconomisteSj  when  he  mahitaiDS, 
that  all  that  is  done  liy  roaouk- 
ture,  is  to  embody  the  value  of  the 
manufacturer's  subsistence  in  his 
work,  and  that  agriculture  is  the 
only  source  from  which  a  real  in- 
crease of  wealth  can  be  derived. 
Another  favourite  position  is,  that 
all  commerce  is  cheatirtg^  where  a 
commodity,  produced  by  a  ccrtaie 
quantity  of  labour,  is  exchanged 
for  another,  on  which  more  labour 
has  been  expended  ;  and  that  the 
only  fair  price  of  any  thing,bscanc 
other  thing  requiring  the  same  ex- 
ertion to  bring,  it  to  market.  Tlai 
is  evidently  a  very  narrow  and  er- 
roneous view  of  the  nature  of  com- 
merce.    The  fair  price  to  the  pur- 
chaser is,  whatever  he  deliberately 
chooses  to  give,  rather  than  go 
without  the  commodity;  it  is  do 
matter  to  him,  whether  the  8cHer 
bestowed  much  or  little  labour  up- 
on it,  or  whether  it  came  into  his 
possesion  without  any  labouratall; 
whether  it  be  a  diamond,  which  hi 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


FEANKL2N*S  UTER^RT   •■AEACTKR. 


66r 


picked  up,  or  a  picture,  at  which 
he  had  been  working  for  years. 
The  commodity  is  not  vulued  by 
the   purchaser,  on  account  of  the 
labour  which  is  supposed  to  be 
embodied  in  it,  but  solely  on  ac- 
count of  certain  qualities,  which 
he  finds  convenient  or  agreeable  ; 
he  compares  the  convenience  and 
delight  which  he  expects  to  derive 
from  tiiis  object,  with  the  conven- 
ience and  delight  which  is  afforded 
by   the  things  asked  in  exchange 
for  it  ;  and  if  he  find  the  former 
preponderate,  he  consents  to  the 
exchange,  and  .makes  a  beneficial 
bargain.     We  have  stated  the  case 
in  the  name  of  a  purchaser,  be- 
cause, in  barter,  both  parties  are 
truly  purchasers,  and  act  upon  the 
«ame  principles  ;  and  it  is  easy  to 
shew,  that  all  commerce  resolves 
itself  ultimately  into  baiter.  There 
can  be  no  unfuimcss  in  trade,  ex- 
cept where  there  is  concealment 
on  the  part  o£  the  seller,  cither  of 
the  defects  of  the  commodity,  or 
of  the  fact  that  the  purchaser  may 
be  supplied  with  it  at  a  cheaper 
Wte  by  another.    Jt  is  a  matter  of 
/ficty  but  not  of  morality^  tliat  the 
price  of  most  commodities  will  be 
influenced  by  the  labour  employed 
in  producing  them.     If  they  are 
capable  of  being  produced  in  un- 
limited quantities,  the  competition 
of  tlie  producers  will  sink  the  price 
very  nearly  to  what  is  necessary 
.to  maintain  this  labour  ;  and  the 
impossibility  of  continuing  the  pro- 
duction, without  re;paying  that  la- 
bour, will  prevent  it  fronji  shiking 
lower.     The  doctrine  docs  not  ap- 
ply at  all,  to  cases  where  the  ma- 
teiials,  or  the  skill  necessary  to 
Vork  them  up,  arc  scarce  in  pro- 
portion to  the  dc'mand.     The  aur 
thor's  specuiaiion  on  the  effects  of 
paper-money,  s^cm  aUo   to  be  su- 
per ficial  and  inaccurate.      StatU- 
ticks  had  not  been  carefully  studied 
ip  the  days  of  his  activity  ;  and, 


accor^ngly.  Ire  meet  with  a  good 
deal  of  loose  a8s\unption,and  sweep- 
ing calculation,  in  his   writings. 
Yet  he  had  a  genius  for  exact  ob- 
servation, and  complicated  detail  ; 
and  probably  wanted  nothing  but 
leisure,  to  have  made  very  great 
advances  in  this  branch  of  economy* 
As  a  writer  oti  morality  and  gen- 
eral  literature,  the  meiits  of  Dr. 
Franklin  cannot  be  estimated  pro- 
perly, without  taking  into  consi- 
deration the  peculiarities,  that  have 
been  already  alluded  to, in  his  eaily 
history  and  situation.      lie  never 
had  the  benefit  of  any  academical 
instruction,  nor  of  the  society  of 
men  of  letters ;  his  style  was  form- 
ed entirely  by  his  own  judgment 
and  reading  ;  and  most  of  his  mo- 
ral pieces  were  written  while  he 
was  a  tradesman,  addressing  him- 
self to  the  tradesmen  -of  his  native 
city.      We  caimot  expect,  there- 
fore, either  that  he  should  write 
with    extraordinary  elegance    or 
grace  ;  or  that  he  should  treat  of 
the  accomplishments,  ibllies,  aiid 
occupations  of  polite  life.     He  had 
no  great  occasion,  as  a  moralist,  to 
expose  the  guilt  and  the  folly  of 
gaming  or  seduction  ;  or  to  point 
a  poignant  and  playful  ridicule  a- 
gainst  the  lighter  immoralities  of 
fashionable  life.     To  the  mechan- 
icks  and  traders  of  Boston  and  Phi- 
ladelpliia,  such  warnings   were  aU 
together  unnecessary  ;  and  he  en- 
deavoured, therefore,  with  more 
appropriate  elo()uence,  to  impress 
upon  them  the  importance  of  in- 
dustry, sobdety,  and  economy,  and 
to  direct  their  wise  and   humble 
anibition  to  the  attainment  of  use- 
ful knowledge  jaud  honourable  in- 
dependence.    That  morality,  after 
all,  is  certainly  the  most  valuable, 
which  is  adapted  to  the  circum- 
stances of  the  greater  part  of  man- 
kind ;   and  that   eloquence  b  the 
most  meritorious,  that  is  calculated 
to  convince  and  persuade  the  muL' . 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


OQO 


•m.  ttHLtthl^t  LITSHART  e«AKACTSll. 


litade  to  virtue.  Nothing  ean  be 
more  perfectly  and  beautifully  a- 
dapted  to  its  object,  than  most  of 
Dr.  Franklin's  compo»tions  of  this 
sort.  The  tone  of  familiarity,  of 
good-will,  and  homely  jocularity  ; 
the  plain  and  pointed  illustrations ; 
the  short  sentences,  made  up  of 
short  words ;  and  the  strong  sense, 
clear  information,  and  obvious  con- 
viction of  the  author  himself,  make 
most  of  his  moral  exhortations  per- 
fect models  of  popular  eloquence ; 
and  afibrd  the  finest  specimens  of 
a  style  which  has  been  but  too  lit- 
tle cultivated  in  a  country,  which 
numbers  perhaps  more  than  one 
hundred  thousand  readers  among 
its  tradesmen  said  artificers. 

In  writings  which  possess  such 
solid  and  unusual  merit,  it  is  of  no 
great  consequence  that  the  fastidi- 
ous eye  of  a  critick  can  discover 
many  blemishes.  There  is  a  good 
deal  of  vulgarity  in  the  practical 
writings  of  Dr.  Franklin  ;  and  more 
vulgarity  than  was  any  way  neces- 
sary for  the  object  he  had  in  view. 
There  is  something  childish,  too, 
in  some  of  his  attempts  at  plea- 
santry :  his  story  of  the  Whistle, 
and  his  Parisian  letter,  announcing 
the  discovery  that  the  sun  gives 
light  as  soon  as  he  rises,  are  in- 
stances of  this.  The  soliloquy  of 
an  Ephemeris,  however,  is  much 
better  ;  and  both  it,  and  the  Dia- 
logue with  the  Gout,  are  executed 
with  the  lightness  and  spirit  of  genu- 
ine French  compositions.  The 
Speech  in  the  Divan  of  Algiers, 
composed  as  a  parody  on  those  of 
the  defenders  of  the  slave-trade, 
and  the  scriptural  parable  against 
persecution,  are  inimitable;  they 
have  all  the  point  and  facility  of 
the  fine  pleasantries  of  Swift  and 
Arbuthnot,with  something  more  of 
directness  and  apparent  sincerity. 

The  style  of  his  letters,  in  gen- 
eral, is  excellent.  They  are  chiefly 
remarkable,  for  great  simplicity  o£ 


language,  adtniraUe  good  sum 
and  ingenuity,  and  an  amiable  and 
inoffensive  cheerfulness,  that  is 
never  overclouded  or  eclipsed 
Among  the  most  valuable  of  the 
writings  that  are  published  for  tfae 
first  time,  in  the  last  ediuon,  m 
four  letters  from  Dr.  Franklin  lo 
Mr.  Whatley,  written  within  a 
few  years  of  his  death,  and  ex* 
pressive  of  all  that  unbn^en  gaiety, 
philanthropy,  and  activity,  wWdi 
distinguish  the  compositions  of  hii 
earlier  years. 

His  account  of  his  own  life,  down 
to  the  year  1730,  has  been  b  the 
hands  of  the  publick  since  1790. 
It  is  written  with  great  simpticitf 
and  liveliness,  though  it  contains 
too  many  trifling  details  and  anec- 
dotes of  obscure  individuals.    It 
aflbrds  a  striking  example  of  the 
irresistible  force  with  which  talents 
and  industry  bear  upwards  in  so- 
ciety, as  well  as  an  impressive  H- 
lustration  of  the  substantial  wisdom 
and  good  policy  of  invariable  inte- 
grity and  candour.  We  should  think 
it  a  very   useful  reading  for  ajl 
young  persons  of  unsteady  prina- 
pie,  who  have  their  fortunes  to 
make  or  to  mend  in  the  worW. 
Upon  the  wliole,  we  look  upon  m 
life  and  writings  of  Dr.  Frankhn 
as  affording  a  stiiking  illustratwn 
of  the  incalculable  value  of  a  sound 
and  well  directed  understanding, 
and  of  the  comparative  uselessness 
of  learning  and  laborious  aca>^- 
plishments.    Without  the  slightest 
pretensions  to  the  character  oU 
scholar  or  a  man  of  science*  w 
has  extended  the  bounds  of  h^i"*" 
knowledge  on  a  variety  of  subject, 
which  scholars  and  men  o[j^^ 
had  ifreviously  investigate!  viw- 
out  success  ;    and  has  mf  ^ 
found  deficient  in   those  stfl(tt« 
which  the  learned  have  gc»erauy 
turned  from  in  disdain.  Wcwo«W 
not  be  understood  to  say  ^"n^l 
in  disparagement  vi  Kholtw^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


U»StatT  CATALOCUC; 


nthd  science  ;  biat  the  vctlue  of  these 
instruments  is  apt  to  be  overrated 
by  their  possessors  ;  and  it  is  a 
wholesome  mortification^  to  shew 


them  that  the  work  may  ht  done 
without  them.  Wc  hare  long^ 
known,  that  their  employment  does 
not  ensure  its  success. 


MONTHLY  CATALOGUE 

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Sunt  bona,  tunt  quadam  medioeria,  nmt  mala  plura. — Maat. 


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Free  Communion  of  all  Christians  at 
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ire 


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ter Freneau. 

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NEW  EDITIONS. 

The  Works  of  the  Right  Hon.  Ed-, 
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Boston,  published  by  John  West,  75, 


ComhiU,  and  O.  C  Greeoles^  S,  Coast. 
Street,  1805. 

A  Translation  of  the  Alcoran  rf 
Mahomet    Worcester,  I.  Thamas,  jm. 

Poems,  written  on  difierent  occs- 
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which  is  preBxed,  some  accouift  cf  tW 
author,  ^v  Catharine  Cappe.  12b6. 
Philadelphia,  Kimber,  Conrad  &  Co. 

Biograpliical  Memoirs  of  WUlias 
Jlenry  West  Betty.  12mo.  r5cems. 
New- York,  Robert  Mc  Dermut 

A  new  and  compendious  Geograph- 
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improved-  Illustrated  by  eight  mafa. 
Originally  written  by  R.  Bnx^es,  MJl 
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improvements  in  every  part  1  Uree 
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delphia,  Jacob  Johnson. 

The  Philadelphia  Practice  Vocabo. 
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James  Ross,  A.M.  Professor  of  tbeLstJa 
andGreek  languages.  2d  editSoo  impro- 
ved.    Philadelphia,  T.  &  W.  Bradfonl 

Part  1.  of  VoL  V.  of  a  new  and  am- 
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An  Abridgement  of  English  Gns^ 
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ford,  Lincoln  &  Gleason. 

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readers,  with  an  original  chapter  **  Oa 
Reliprious  Studies."  By  tJie  Rer.  T.  F. 
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Sir  Wm.  Forbes'  Life  of  Beattie.  2 
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The  American  Spelling  Book,  or 
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The  Miseries  of  Human  Life,  or  the 
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STATEMENT  OF  DISEASES,  UTe, 
from  Nov.  20  to  Dec.  20,  1806.      ', 

The  atmospherick  temperature,  dur- 
inj^  the  pnst  month,  has  been  milder" 
tli:in  common.  Although  the  range  of 
the  thernuvineter  has  been  between  17* 
aad  32°,  during  two  or  three  days,  yet, 
excepting  thtse,  it  has  been  geneiilly 
between  32  and  42°  Rains,  alternated 
witli  fogs  and  fugitive  snows,  have  giv- 
en this  month  the  aspect  of  April,  raUier 
than  tliat  of  December.    At  this  jieasoB 


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C7» 


IfSDfGAL   A«70KT. 


the  westerly  winds  run  a  decided  as- 
cendeney  over  those  from  the  east.  In 
our  observations  we  have  noted  the 
wind  nine  times  from  easterly  points, 
and  twcntj'.five,  westerly.  The  mild- 
ness of  the  weather  is  to  be  attributed 
to  the  |>revalettce  of  the  west  and 
south- west  winds. 

The  sum  of  disease  is  not  considera- 
ble. Simple/erer  has  been  disappear- 
ing. In  its  place  we  see  rheumatUfrh 
severe  catarrh,  infiamnuition  of  tfic 
fauct*  and  of  the  lung:  The  latter 
complaint  has  been  hitherto  almost  con- 
fined to  children.  A  more  formidable 
disease  has  also  appeared^  the  Scarlati' 
no.  Of  this,  we  have  seen  the  varie- 
ties ef,  Ist,  scarlatina  simplex  ;  2d, 
ulcerated  scarlet  throat ;  3d,  scariatina 
an^nosa  ;  and  also  an  exanthema,  dif- 
fering*  from  scarlatina  simplex,  in  want* 
ing*  the  consecutive  desquanuttion  of  the 
cuticle.  Whether  this  last  belongs  to 
the  rcnua  scariatina^  cannot  at  present 
be  determined. — As  this  disease  fre- 
quently ravages  the  whole  countiy,  and 
has  lately  been  epidcmick  in  dinerent 
parts  of  it,  probably  it  wiU  prevail  here. 
For  which  reason,  it  is  proper  to  excite 
the  attention  of  physicians  and  of  the 
publick  to  that  mode  of  practice,  which 
has  been  recently  adopted  in  England, 
and  cecommended  to  the  world  by  high 
authorities.  This  practice  consists  in 
the  appUcatian  of  cold  or  tepid  water 
to  the  whole  surface  of  the  body.  The 
application  must  not  be  made  with  a 
partial,  nor  sparing  hand  ;  it  must  be 
made  thoroughly  and  universally.  Dr. 
Curry  relates,  that,  after  making  satis- 
factory experiments  of  its  efficacy,  he 
determined  to  employ  it  on  his  own 
children,  should  they  be  attacked  by 
the  disease.  At  this  time  the  scarlet 
fever  had  appeared  in  the  vicinity  and 
proved  fatal  to  several  cliildren.  Soon 
after,  it  seized  two  of  his  boys,  one  fivc^ 
the  other  three  years  of  age.  I  shut 
myself  up  with  these  boys,  says  he ;  and 
with  plenty  of  pump  waiter  and  a  pocliet 
thermometer,  prepared,  not  vdthout 
anxiety,  to  combat  this  formidiible  dis- 
ease. As  soon  as  tlie  sensation  of  heat 
was  steady  in  my  eldest  boy,  I  slripf>ed 
him  naked,  and  poured  four  gallons  of 
water  over  him,  of  the  temperature  of 
64®.  The  usual  good  effects  immedi- 
ately appeared,  but  at  the  end  of  two 
hours  he  was  as  hot  as  ever.  The  rem- 
edy was  ag^dn  applied,  and  repeated  as 
the  return  of  heat  indicated.    By  the 


time  the  eldest  was  ready  for  his  third 
affusion,  the  youngest  was  ready  forhis 
first.  In  tliirty-lwo  hours,  the  iirsthad 
the  afiu&ion  fourteen  times ;  eiglit times 
cold,  twice  cool,  and  ibur  times  tepid. 
Twelve  afiusions  sufficed  in  the  case  of 
the  youngest,  of  which  seven  were  cold. 
The  fever  was  in  both  completely  sub- 
dued. The  celebrated  Dr.  GaECoiT 
of  Edinburgh,  and  many  other  learned 
physicians,  give  their  full  sanction  to 
this  practice.  Whether  there  exist  any 
circumstances  in  the  character  of  the 
disease  in  this  country,  which  is  rcpnf- 
nant  to  this  remedy,  is  to  be  decided  by 
experience.  The  experiment  ought  to 
be  made,  if  it  is  believed  that  fbrroer 
methods  of  treatment  are  inefficacious.* 
At  tiie  time  the  disease  first  appeared 
in  this  country,  it  was  the  fashion  ts 
evacuate  the  patient  so  thoroughly,  as 
to  leave  but  little  vitality  for  the  disease 
to  consume.  At  another  period,  back 
and  wine  were  poured  down,  in  all  st»« 
^  of  the  complaint ;  to  extinguish  the 
tire,  they  heaped  on  fuel  No  wonder 
that  the  writers  of  that  day  relate,  that, 
after  tlie  patients  had  been  bled,  puked, 
purged,  sweated,  blistered,  and  glysttr. 
ed,  tlie  unfortunates  died.  They  tell 
us,  that  the  successful  method  was  it 
last  discovered  by  Da.  Douclais  of 
Boston.  This  consisted  in  keeping  the 
patient  in  bed,  in  a  moderate  warmth ; 
giving  gentle  diaphoretics,  yet  not  so 
as  to  produce  sweating,  and  a  great 
plenty  of  *age-tea.  In  other  words,  D s. 
Douglass  gave  nature  a  fair  chance. 
— There  is  no  doubt,  that  in  some  ca- 
ses an  emetic  may  be  beneficial,  at  the 
commencement  of  the  complaint,  by 
giving  such  a  shock  to  the  system,  M  to 
break  the  thread  of  disease.  Purg»ti^ 
may  certainly  be  employed,  yet  with 
great  caution,  in  even^  stage  of  the  dis- 
order ;  and  only  so  far,  as  to  pnwltice 
evacuations  of  faecsl  matter,  and  dise**;' 
ed  secretions.  ITje  treatment  will  »• 
ten  require  varying  in  different  y*^**** 
according  to  the  peculiar  chararterof 
the  disease,  which  ouglit  therefore  to 
be  nttentively  studied. 

•  During  the' cold  teaiop  it  iray  be  pwp^ 
employ  tepid  water,  at  lea«t  la  the  fint  eapefr 
neata. 

Erratum.— In  the  present  nrmbcfV 
in  tlie  ]K)etry  headed  "Erin,"p.643,fcr 
While  pef'tm'd  brccie*  in  the  tree-toft 

^ap*,— i-end 
While  peifunCdhreezet  in  tliS  tree-toft 
plujeJ. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


THE  POLITICAL  CABINET. 


Ile^tra  in  usum  historfx  complectuntur  prindpum  cdicta,  senatutim  decreta,  judidonun  prdi 
cessus,  orationes  publice  habitx,  cpbtolx  pubUce  misias,  ct  similia,  absque  lurrationis  coil-^ 
textu,  aive  fHo  continuo.— Sacon  de  Aug.  Sd. 


Jn  order  to  give  a  more  durable  value  to  our  work  than  it  has  yet 
fioaaesaedj  we  firo/ioae  to  afifiroftriate  the  eight  fiagea^  which  in  con- 
»  sequence  of  increased  patronage  we  are  enabled  to  add^  to  the  pub" 
Ucation  of  interesting  American  state  papers^  and  generally ,  of  au^ 
theniicated  documents^  having  for  their  objects  the  history^  statis" 
ticksy  ^c,  of  our  country^  to  be  published  as  an  appendix  to  the. 
Anthology^  paged  by  itself  so  thatj  if  subscribers  please^  it  may  btk^ 
^ound  as  a  separate  volume. 


MESSAGES 

OF 

THE  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

•OMMUNICATIOV  TO  BOTH  HOUSES  OF  CONGRESS,  AT  THE  COM- 
MENCEMENT OF  TllS  FIRST  SESSION  OF  THE  NINTH  eONGRESSf 
DECEMBER    S,    1805. 

To  iU  Simate  ami  Hwfi  of  Rtpreftntafhot 
of  the  United  Statu  of  America, 

A  T  «  moment  when  the  nations  of  Europe  are  in  commotion  and  arming  againft 
-*^  each  other,  when  thofe  with  whom  we  have  principal  intercourfe  are  engaged 
in  the  general  coateft,  and  when  the  countenance  of  fome  of  them  towards  our 
peaceable  country,  threatens  that  even  that  may  not  be  unaffedled  by  what  is  pafl^ 
ug  on  the  general  theatre,  a  meeting  of  the  reprefentatives  of  the  nation,  in  both 
houfes  of  congrefs,  has  become  more  than  ufually  defirable.  Coming  from  every 
ie^on  of  our  country,  they  bring  with  them  the  fentiments  and  the  information  o€ 
the  whole»  and  will  be  enabled  to  give  a  ^re(5Hon  to  the  publick  affairs,  which  the  will 
and  the  wifdom  of  the  whole  will  approve  and  fupport.  In  taking  a  view  of  tho 
ilate  of  our  country,  we,  in  the  iirft  place,  notice  the  late  affiit^on  of  two  of  our 
cities,  under  the  fatal  fever,  which  in  latter  times  has  occafionaily  viiited  our  fliores. 
Providence,  in  his  goodnefs,  gave  it  an  early  termination  on  this  occafion,  and  lefl^ 
ened  the  number  of  vidlims  which  have  ufually  fallen  before  it.  In  the  courfe  o£ 
the  feveral  viiitations  by  this  difeare,it  has  appeared  to  be  ftridbly  local,  incident  to 
cities  and  on  the  tide  waters  only,  incommunicable  in  the  country,  either  by  per- 
font  under  the  difeafe,  or  by  goods  carried  from  difeafed  places  ;  that  its  accefs  is 
with  the  autumn,  and  it  difappears  with  the  early  frolb.  Thefe  refbri<5^ions,  withia 
narrow  limits  of  time  and  fpace,  give  fecurity,  even  to  our  maritime  cities,  during 
three  fourths  of  the  year,  and  to  the  country  always ;  although  from  thefe  fadb  ic 
appears  unneceiIary,yet,to  fatisfy  the  fears  o^  foreign  nations,  and  cautions  on  their 
part  are  not  to  be  complained  of,  in  a  danger  whofe  limits  are  )  et  unknown  to  them. 
I  have  ftri<aiy  enjoined  on  the  officers  at  the  head  of  the  cuftoms  to  certify  withex- 
«<St  truth,  for  every  veffel  (ailing  for  a  foreign  port,  the  ftate  of  health  refpeAing 
this  fever  which  prevails  at  the  place  from  which  (he  fails.  Under  every  motiv« 
from  chara<5ler  and  duty  to  certify  the  truth,  I  have  no  doubt  they  have  faithfully 
executed  this  injun^ion.  Much  real  injury  has  however  been  fuftained  from  a  pro- 
penfity  to  identify  with  this  endemick,  and  to  call  by  the  fane  wmc,  fevcn  of  vcrj 
Vol.  III.  Append!^.     A 


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^  AM£EICi[V  STATE  fAPERJ.    * 

diiferent  kinds,  which  haive  been  known  at  all  times  and  in  all  countries,  and  nffw 
have  been  placed  among  tbofe  deemed  conta^odi.  As  i^c  adva^ip*  m^  knovl* 
edge  of  this  difeafe,  as  fadb  develope  the  fource  from  wfiich  indfriduali  receiTe  it* 
the  ftate  authorities  charged  with  the  care  of  the  publick  health,  and  congrefe  niA 
that  of  the  general  commerce,  will  become  able  to  regulate  with  elfeA  their  refpec- 
tive  functions  in  thefe  departments.  The  burthen  or  quarantines  is  felt  at  hoiDe  • 
well  as  abroad  ;  their  efficacy  merits  examination.  Although  the  beaHh  l4,i^of 
*the  ftate*  fhould  be  found  to  need  no  prefent  revifal  by  Congrefs,  yet  commerce 
claims  that  their  attention  be  ever  awake  to  them. 

Since  our  laft  meeting,  the  afpcA  of  our  foreign  relations  has  confiderably  cbaiif> 
cd  Our  coafts  have  been  infefted,  and  our  harbours  watched,  by  private  arnfed 
ve^ls,  forne  of  them  without  commi0ions,  fome  with  iUegai '  eomroiftnps,  otli^ 
with  thofe  of  leg^l  form,  but  committing  piratical  a(5U  beyond  the  aiitborkyof 
their  commiflions.  They  have  captured  in  tlie  very  entrance  of  our  harbovn,  a 
well  as  on  the  high  feas,  not  only  the  veflels  of  oar  friends,  coming  to  trade  witb 
us,  but  our  own  alfo.  They  have  carried  tjiem  off  under  pretence  of  legal  adjudio' 
tion,  but,not  daring  to  approach  a  court  of  jufHcc,  they  have  plundered  and  fmdtte 
by  the  w^y.or  in  obscure  places,  wher^  no  evidence  coaM  ari£B  againft  theai,mi)* 
treated  the  crews,  and  abandoned  them  in  boats,  in  the  open  fea,  or  on  def«t  (hmtt, 
without  food  or  covering.  Thefe  enormities,  appearing  to  be  unreached  by  any  co^ 
trol  of  their  fovereigns,  I  found  it  neceffary  to  equip  a  force,  to  cruize  within  obt 
©wn  feas,  to  arreft  all  velTels  of  thefe  deCcriptions  fpiind  hovering  on  our  coafts  triAr 
in  the  limits  of  the  Gulf  Stream,  and  to  bring  the  oflfeaders  in  for  trial  as  pirates.^ 

The  fame  fvftem  of  hovering  on  our  co^  and  harbours,  under  colour  of  fedsv 
enemies,  has  been  alfo  carried  on  by  pubhck  armed  (hips,  to  t|i<?  V^^  annoyaaci 
and  opprefllon  of  our  commerce  New  principles  too  have  been  mttrpoleted  isto 
the  law  of  nations,  founded  neither  in  juftice,  nor  the  ufage  or  acknowledgment  d 
a^(ions.  AcrCording  to  thefe,  a  belligerent  tal^es  to  jt^  a  cqmn^^  with  its  on 
enemy,  which  it  denies  to  a  neutraf,  on  the  around  pf  its  atdiq^  tha^  enemy  h^ 
war.  But  rcafon  revolts  at  fuch  an  inconlT(fency ;  arid  tjie  peutral,  having  e^ai 
^ght  with  the  belligerent  to  decide  the  queftion,  the  interelh  of  oiu"  coiraitiMtfV 
and  the  duty  of  maintaining  the  authority  of  reafon,  the  only  umpire  between  jnS 
nations,  impofe  on  us  the  obligation  of  providing  an  e4S6<£hi|u  aoddefcraiacdrdp^ 
fition  to  adoiflrine  fo  injurious  to  the  rights  of  peaceable  nations.  Indefldtllecqo- 
fidence  we  ought  to  have  in  the  juftice  of  others,  ftiH  coiinfe«nanees  thrho^ifait* 
founder  view  of  thofe  righu  will  of  itfelf  induce  from  evcfy  beliigtrent  a  ««*t  os^ 
mSkobiJBrvance.of  them. 

With  Spain  our  negociatiens  for  a  fcttlcment  of  differences  have  not  bid  a  w* 
JsM^lory  illiie.  Spoliations  during  the  former  war,  for  which  fiie  had*  ferfl^tt' 
kaowledged  herfelf  reiponlible,  have  been  refiifed  to  be  coropeofiltcd  bolfO'*''' 
dttions  aS&diittg  other  claims  in  no  wife  connedled  with  thei1a«  Yet  the  fa^fj" 
tices  are  renewed  in  the  prefent  war,  and  are  already  of  great  amoiilrt.  ^jj^ 
Mobile,  our  commerce,  pafUng  through  that  river,  continues  to  be  obftr»Aw«J^ 
bitrary  duties  and  vexatious  fearchss.  Ih-opoEtions  for  adjufting  aad**blylte|«'*g' 
daries  of  Louiilana  have  not  been  acceded  to.  White  however  the  rig^  iNi^**» 
we  have  avoided  changing  the  ftate  of  things,  by  taking  new  poftsjw  •i'^P|JJ 
ing  ourfelves  in  the  difputed  territories,  in  the  hoi>e  thai  fbe  other  pdHW  *"fi^ 
by  a  contrarv  condu<ft,  obligjo  us  to  meet  their  example,  and  etiAi^fU  ^^^L^ 
authority,  the  ilTue  of  which  may  not  be  eafily  controlled.  Bot'fctbisiwy^ 
have  now  reafon  to  lelTen  our  confidence.  Inroads  have  been  I'eiMMtly  JJJS 
Che  territories  of  Orleans  and  the  Miffif&ppt.  Our  cittsreiu  hattf^bejOi' w^J** 
their  property  plundered  in  the  very  parts  of  the  former  whi*fc  t»ybgft*g|g 
delivered  up  by  Spain  ;  and  this  by  the  regular  oiGcerk  «nd"lllhiife*t#»2!Si 
ment.  I  have,  therefore,  found  it  neceflfary  at  length  to  give  orders  ^^^JjJJJflJf 
that  frontier,  to  be  in  readinefs  to  prote<Sk  our  citieens,  and  to *tP**J2SfcW 
fimilar  aggreffions  in  future.  Other  details  neceffary  tor  your  ftA-^  ii»"MW» 
the  ftate  of  things  between  this  country  and  that^flaUbc'tlief^* 
communication.  '        '  * 

In  reviewing  thefe  injuries  from  fome  of  the  belKgcrent  pftW^j^l 
^e  firmaeis,  aod  ths  wifdom  of  the  le^iOflture  wi&  tl^be.<  ^ 


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AMBKlCAir  ST5ITS  PAfSHfli;  1 

mught  fttll  t»  Bdlpei  thtt  tine  and  a  mof e  coiTe<^  eiSmste  ef  int«rlfl,  tt  m^  m  <si 
diarB6ker»  will  produce  the  jfuHictf  W«  ate  bound  to  expe^. 

Bat  ^ottld  any  natioti  deceive  itfelf  bf  falie  calctilatioiis,  and  difappotnt  that  et* 
pe^tioi^iire  mail  joio  ia  the  uoprofitable  coiiteft,of  trying  whi^h  party  caii  do  thft 
othef  the  moft  harm.  Some  of  thefe  iajuries  may  perhaps  admit  a  peaceable  rem* 
edy.  Where  that  is  eompetent,  it  is  always  the  moft  defirable.  Bat  feme  of  theiii 
art  of  a  nature  to  be  nwt  by  fof^e  ofily,  and  all  of  them  may  lead  to  it.  I  eanndi 
therefore  but  reteotnoiead  fach  preparations  as  ctrcumftances  call  for.  The  firfl  Ob^ 
5e6l  is  to  place  our  fea-port  towns  out  of  the  danger  of  infult.  Meafures  have  bees 
stlready  takett  for  ftrhifiiiifg  them  wHh  heaty  camion,  f«r  the  fer^ice  of  fuch  land 
i»attenes,  as  may  make  a  part  of  their  defence  a^ioA  artried  vei!el<  approaching 
felietn.  In  aid  of  thefe^  it  is  AeAtMe  we  (hould  have  a  competent  fromber  of  gun- 
.boats :  and  the  comber,  to  be  competent,  muft  be  confiderable.  If  ioimediatelT  be^ 
^n,  they  maybe  iii  readtnefs  for  fervice  at  the  opening  of  the  next  (bafon.  Whefh<* 
er  it  wfU  be  aecefTary  to  augment  our  lafid  forces,  will  be  decided  by  occurrence^ 
fArobably  inftbe  <*OiMrfe  of  your  ftfRotL  In  the  mean  tunes  you  will  oonnder,  whethef 
it  wottid  not  be  expedient,  for  a  ftate  of  peace  as  well  as  of  War,  fo  to  organize  or 
dafs  the  H^ilitia  as  would  enable  fi4,  on  a  fudden  emergency,  to  call  for  the  fervicei 
^  the  younger  portions,  nnincnra^ered  with  the  old  and  thofe  having  familiei. 
upwards  of  three  hnndred  thouland  able  bodied  men,  betw^n  the  ages  of  erghteen 
atud  twenty-fix  yearsj  which  tlie  laft  cenfus  fl^ws  we  may  nOw  count  Wkhin  ouf 
4im}ts,  will  furaifli  a  competent  number  for  offence  or  defence,  in  any  point  wherd 
chey  may  be  want^«  and  will  give  time  for  ratfing  regular  forces,  after  the  neceflity 
,cif  them  fliall  become  certain  t  and  the  redncing  to  the  early  period  of  life  aH  its  ac- 
tive fervice,  cannot  but  be  defirable  to  our  younger  eitizens  of  the  prrfi^nt,  as  WeH 
at  future  times  ;  inafmnch  as  if  engages  to  them,  in  rtore  advanced  age,  a  quiet  and 
vndifturhed  repofe  in  the  bofom  of  their  families.  1  cannot  then  but  earnefWy  re- 
commend to  your  early  confideration,  the  expediency  .of  fo  mocKfyin^  our  mil^ig 
fyftero,  ae,  by  a  ^aration  of  the  more  active  part  from  that  which  is  lefs  fo,  we 
mav  draw  from  it,  when  neceflary,  an  ei&nent  corps,  fit  for  real  and  a^ve  f<irvU:e, 
aaa  to  ^  cuHod  to  it  in  regular  rotation. 

Confiderable  provifion  has  been  made  under  former  atithorities  ficom  Congreft,  of 
materials  for  the  conftrtf<^on  of  ihips  of  war  of  74  guns— thefe  maferiab  are  oa 
land,  fubje^  to  the  further  wilt  of  the  legiAature. 

An  immediMe  prohibition  of  the  exportation  of  arms  and  ammuni^H  is  alfe  (Ub- 
c*i«ied  to  yotfr  determination. 

Turning  from  thefe  unpleafant  views  of  "science  and  wrong,  I  congratulate  yott 
4ft»  the  lifaHeratton  of  o^r  fellow  citi^ns,  who  were  ftranded  on  the  coafh  of  Tripoli* 
and  made  prifoaers  of  war.  In  a  government  bottomed  on  the  will  of  all,  the  lifie 
and  liberty  of  every  indSvidnal  citizen  becomes  interefting  to  all.  Itk  the  treaty 
therefore  which  hat  coticluded  our  warfare  with  that  ftate,  an  artlcte  for  the  ranfom 
<rl  our  citizens  has  been  agreed  to.  An  operation  b^y  land  by  a  fmaH^  -band  of  our 
cauBCrymdn,  and  others  engaged  for  the  occafion,  itk  conjunAion  with  the  troojft  of 
the  ex>4>a{haw  of  that  country,  gallantly  condUiEled  by  our  late  conful  ^Eaton,  and 
their  fncceftful  eniierprize  on  tl^  city  of  Derne,  contrtbuted  doubtlefs  to  the  in>- 
prefiion  Which  produced  peace  :  and  the  conclufion  of  this  prevented  opportunities, 
^f  whieh  the  oifieevtand  men  of  our  fquadron  deflfined  for  Tripoli  would  have  a- 
vailed  themfelves  to  emulate  the  adb  of  valour  exhibited  by  their  brethren  in  the 
arrack  of  #he  laft  year.  ReHe^Hng  with  high  fatisfa<Stion  on  the  diftinguiftied  brave^ 
ry,dif  played  whenever  ocoafions  pemurted  in  the  late  Mediterranean  fervice,  I  think 
it  would  be  an  ufefol  encouragement,  as  well  as  a  juit  reward,  to  make  an  opening 
for  fome  pref(flcat  pronotioa,  by  enlarging  o^r  peace  eOabli(hment  of  captains  and 
lieutenants. 

With  Tunis  fi»aie  nafanderftandiilg*  have  arifen  not  yet  fnfficientty  explained  ; 
but  friendly  difcuffions  with  their  ambaiTador,  recently  arrived,  and  a  mutual  difpo- 
fition  to  do  whatever  is  jnH  and  reafonable  cannot  faH  of  diflSpating  thefe.  So  that 
we  may  coafider  oar  peace,  on  that  coaft  generally,  to  be  on  as  found  a  footing  a«  it 
has  boon  at  any  preceding  time.  Still  it  wilt  not  be  etpedieat  to  withdilarw  immedi- 
aldy  the  whole  ol  our  force  from  that  fca. 

The  law  providing  for  a  naval  peace  eftablifliment  fixes  the  number  of  frigate^ 
vfaiffhihallbekepcitt  coaftant  £trvicc  in  timo  of  peace,  aadi  i^e(<fibes  that  they 


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1  AMSRICAK  STATZ  VAPERf. 

ihallbe  maimed  by  not  more  than  two-thirds  of  their  compUomt  of  (eamai  aad  oii 
dinary  feamen.  Whether  a  frigate  may  be  tnifted  to  two-thirds  only  of  her  proper 
compliment  of  men,  mud  depend  on  the  nature  of  the  fervice  on  which  (he  it  order* 
cd ;  that  may  (bmetimet  for  her  fafety,  as  well  as  to  enfure  her  obje6t,  require  her 
fulled  compliment.  In  adverting  to  this  fubjeA,  congre(s  will  perhaps  coofider, 
whether  the  beft  limitation  on  the  executive  difcretion  in  this  cafe  would  not  be,  bjr 
the  number  of  feamen  which  may  be  employed  in  the  whole  fervice,  rather  than  of 
the  number  of  veffels.  Occafions  oftener  anfe  for  the  employment  of  {caaHl  than  ii 
large  veiTels,  and  it  would  leflen  riik  as  well  as  expenfe  to  be  authorised  to  emplor 
Chem  of  preference ;  the  limitation  fuggefted  by  the  number  of'  feamen  would  admit 
a  fele<SUon  of  veflels  beft  adapted  to  the  fervice. 

Our  Indian  neighbours  are  advancing,  many  of  them  with  fpirit,  and  others  be- 
ginning to  engage,  in  the  purfuits  of  agriculture  and  houfehold  manufacture.  The^ 
are  becoming  fendble  that  the  earth  yields  fubfiftence  with  Ids  labour  and  more  cer- 
tainty than  the  foreft,  and  find  it  their  intereft  from  time  to  time  to  difpofe  of  parts 
of  their  furplus  9fid  wafle  lands  for  the  means  qf  improving  thofe  the]f  occupy,  and 
of  fubfiding  their  families  while  they  are  preparing  their  farms.  £unce  your  iaft 
fef&on  the  nonhem  tribes  have  fold  to  us  the  lands  between  the  Connecticut  rdierre 
and  the  former  Indian  boundary ;  and  thofe  on  the  Ohio,  from  the  lame  boundary  to 
the  Rapids  and  for  a  confiderable  depth  inland.  The  Chickafaws  and  pherokeei 
have  fold  us  the  country  between,  and  adjacent  to,  the  two  diftridb  of  TenaeiTee; 
and  the  Creeks  the  re^ue  of  their  lands  in  the  fork  of  Ocmulgee,  up  to  the  UI- 
cofauhatche.  The  three  former  purchafes  are  important,  inafmuch  as  they  cod- 
folidate  disjoined  parts  of  our  fettled  country,  and  render  their  intercourfe  iecore; 
and  the  fecond  particularly  fo,  as,  with  the  (mall  point  on  the  river,  which  we  ez- 
pedl  is  by  this  time  ceded  by  the  Piankefliaws,  it  completes  our  poffeiEon  of  the 
whole  of  both  banks  of  the  Ohio,  ffom  its  fource  to  near  its  mouth,  and  the  navi- 
gation of  that  river  is  thereby  rendered  forever  (afe  to  our  citizens  fettled  and  fet- 
tJing  on  its  extenfive  waters.  The  purchafe  from  the  Creeks  too  has  been  foe  ibme 
t|me  peculiarly  interefting  to  the  ftate  of  Georgia. 

The  feveral  treaties  which  have  been  mentioned  will  be  fubmitted  to  both  boofM 
©f  congress  for  the  exercife  of  their  refpe<^ve  functions.. 

.  Deputations  now  on  their  way  to.  the  feat  of  government,  from  various  natioof 
of  Indians,  inhabiting  the  Miflouri  and  other  parts  beyond  the.MiiIii£ppi»  €0O» 
charged  with  aflurances  of  their  fatisfa(5tion  with.the.new  relations  in  which  they 
are  placed  with  us,  of  their  difpofitions  to  cultivate  our  peace  and  UifsMvp,  aod 
their  deilre  to  enter  into  commercial  intercourfe  with. us. 

.  A  date  of  our  progrefs  in  exploring  the  principal  rivers  of  that  codntry,  and  of 
the  information  refpeC^iog  them  hitherto  obtained,  will  be  communicat^  a»  (doa 
as  wtf  diall  r^eive  fome  further  relation,  which  we  have  reafon  ^rtly  to  exped. 

The  receipts  at  the  treafury,  during  the  year  ending  on  the  SOth  day  Of  Septem- 
ber lad,  have  exceeded  the  fum  of  thirteen  millions  of  dollars,  which,  with  not 
quite  five  millions  in  the  treafury  at  the  beginning  of  the  year,  have  enabled  us, after 
meeting  other  demands,  to  pay  nearly  two  millions  of  the  debt  contraAed  undff 
the  Britifli  treaty  and  convention,  upwards  of  four  millions  of  pnnc;ipa]  of  the  pah- 
lick  debt,and  four  millions  of  intered.  Thefe  payments,  with  thofe  which  had  bea 
made  in  three  years  and  half  preceding,  have  extinguiflied  of  the  funded  debt 
nearly  eighteen  millions  of  principal.  '     .  ^ 

Congrefs,  by  their  aA  of  November  10,  1803,  authorifbd  us  to  borrow  1,750,000 
dollars  towards  meeting  the  claims  of  ouf  citizens,  afiumed  by  the  conv^tion  wtn 
France.  We  have  qot  however  made  ufe  of  this  authority  :  becaufc  thtCnmotKor 
tniilioni  and  an  half,,  which  remained  in^he  treafury  on  the  fame  :*Oth  ^J^^ 
teraber  lad,  with  the  receipts  which  we  may  calculate  on  for  the  enfuing  T*?»r[ 
fides  paying  the  atinuat  fum  of  eight  millions  of  dOlUrs,  appropriated  to  the  fa»w 
debt,  and  meeting  ail  the  current  demands  which  may  be  expe^ed,  will  enable  w 
to  pay  the  whole  fum  of  three  millions  feven  hundred  and  fifty  thoufend  o^wj 
aflumed  by  the  French  convention,  and  (Hll  leave  us  a  furplus  of  nearly  a  milhon  « 
dollars  at  our  free  difpofal.  Should  you  concur  in  the  provifions  of  arms  *"^.?'"f: 
velTels  recommended  by  the  ciromidanccs  of  the  times,  this  furplui  will  furmio  to 
meansof  doing  fo.  ■     .  .        ^ 

On  this  fird  occafion  of  addrciEng  congrefsi  fijicc,  by  the  choice  of  my  oonw»»* 


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AUE&ICAK  STATE  PAPERS.  S 

lirtB,  I  havft  entered  on  a  fecond  tenn  of  adminiftration,  I  embrace  the  opportunity 
to  give  this  publick  aflurance  that  I  will  exert  my  belt  endeavours  to  adminifter  faith- 
fully the  executive  department,  and  will  zealoufly  co-operate  with  you  in  every 
meafure  which  may  tend  to  fecure  the  libertjr,  properly,  and  pcrfonaiiafetyof  our 
fellow  citizens,  and  to  confolidate  the  republican  forms  and  principles  of  our  gov- 
ernment. 

In  the  courfe  of  your  feffion,  you  fliall  receive  all  the  aid  which  I  can  give  for  the 
difpatch  of  the  publick  budnefs,  and  all  the  information  neceffary  for  your  delibera- 
tions, of  which  the  interests  of  our  own  country  and  the  confidence  repofed  in  us  by 
others,  will  admit  a  communication.  Tb  :  J£FF£RSOM. 

Dec  S,  1805» 


A  REPORT  FROM  THE  GOTERNOUR,  AND  PRESIDING  JUDGE  OF  TfiB 
TERRITORY  OF  MICHIGAN,  RELATIVE  TO  THE  STATE  OF  THAT 
TERRITORY.      TRANSMITTED   BY    THE   PRESIDENT)   DEC.  23,    1805. 

To  the  Senate  and  Houfe  of  Reprefentatlves 
of  the  United  States  of  America, 

THE  govcmour  and  prcfiding  judge  of  the  territory  oF  Michigan  have 
made  a  report  to  me  of  the  ftate  of  that  territory,  fcveral  matters  in  which 
being  within  the  reach  of  tnc  legiflativc  authority  only,  I  lay  the  report 
before  congrefs.  Th  :  JEFFERSON, 

December  23,  1805. 

(COPY.) 

Detroit f  Oaober  10,  1805. 

THE  govemour  of  the  territory  of  Michigan  and  the  prcfiding  ju<)ge 
thereof,  in  compliance  with  the  wifheg  of  the  government  and  the  people  of 
the  territory,  have  the  honour  to  ndake  the  following  report  relative  to  the 
affairs  of  the  territory. 

By  the  ad  of  the  congrefs  of  the  United  States  edablilhing  the  territory, 
the  government  thereof  was  to  commence  from  and  after  the  thirtieth  day 
of  June,  one  thoufand  eight  hundred  five.  The  prcfiding  jiidge  arrived  at 
Detroit,  the  feat  of  the  government,  on  Saturday  the  29th  day  of  June,  an4 
the  governour  on  Monday  the  firft  day  of  July.  The  affociate  judge,  who 
was  previoufly  a  refident  of  the  territory,  was  already  there.  On  Tuefdajr 
the  2d  July,  the  governour,  in  purfuance  of  the  ordinance  of  congrefs,  ad- 
miniftered  to  the*  feveral  officers  their  tefpedlive  oaths  of  office,  and  on  the 
fame  day  the  operations  of  the  government  commenced. 

It  was  the  unfortunate  fate  of  the  new  government,  to  commence  its  oper- 
ations in  a  fcene  of  the  deepeft  publick  and  private  calamity.  By  the  confla- 
gration of  Detroit,  which  took  place  Onthc  morning  of  the  11th  of  June,  all 
the  building^  of  thit  place,  both  publick  and  private,  were  entirely  confum- 
«id  ;  and  the  moft  valuable ,  part  of  the  perfonal  property  of  the  inhabitants^ 
was  loft.  On  the  arrival  of  the  new  government,  a  part  of  the  people  weri? 
found  encamped  on  the  publick  grounds, -^n  the  vicinity  of  the  town,  and  the 
remainder  were  difperfed  through  the  neighbouring  fcttlements  of  the  coun- 
try ;  both  on  the  Britifh  and  the  American  fide  of  the  boundary. 

The  place  which  bore  the  appellation  of  the  to^n  of  Detroit^  was  a  fpot  of 
about  two  acres  of  ground,  completely  c6vered  with  buildings,  and  combuf- 
tible  materials,  the  narrow  intervals  of  fourteen  or  fifteen  feet,  u fed  as  ftreets 
or  lanes,  only  excepted  ;  arid  the  whole  was  environed  with  a  very  ftrong  and 
fecure  defence  of  tall  and  folid  picquets.  The  circumjacent  ground,  the 
bank  of  the  river  alone  excepted,  was  a  wide  common  :  and  though  affer- 
tions  are  made  refppdting  the  exiftence,  among  the  records  of  Quebec,  of  a 
charter  from  the  king  of  France,  confirming  this  (ionfimbn  as  an  appurtenance 
to  the  town,  it  was  either  the  property  of  the  United  States,  or  at  leaft  fuch. 
as  individual  claims  did  not  pretcn4  to  cover.'  The  folly  of  attempting  to 


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f  AKsmiCAirvnrrs  pafsm. 

i^buUd  the  towa  i»  te  ongkial  node  win  ob?iG%»  to  ercrf  nM  ^  ^«Sm 
cxifted  BO  atttttoritf,  either  ki  the  country,  or  in  the  oAcers  of  the  new  go?* 
•nunent,  to  d\£po£c  of  the  adjacent  ground.  Hence  had  aheady  arifen  a  ftM 
•f  diflfeotion  which  uroently  required  the  interpofition  of  fomc  ai^ortiy  W 
^iet.  Some  of  the  mhabitants*  deftitutc  of  ftielter,  and  hofprieftofaif 
prompt  arrangements  of  government,  had  reoccupied  their  former  gtt)W»d, 
and  a  few  boiklings  had  already  been  eredcd  in  the  mldft  of  the  <M  rtrtns. 
Another  portion  of  the  inhabHants  had  determined  to  take  poffeffion  of  the 
adjacent  pubfick  ground,  and  to  throtr  thcmfchres  on  the  liberalitf  of  tbe 
government  of  the  United  States,  either  to  make  them  a  donaifgn  of  tk 
ground  as  a  compenfation  for  their  fiifferings,  or  to  accept  of  a  Very  modertte 
price  for  it.  If  they  could  have  rtiade^iiy  arrangement  of  the  various  pit- 
tenfions  of  individuals,  or  could  have  agreed  on  any  plan  of  a  town,  they 
would  foon  have  begun  to  boiU.  But  the  want  of  a  civil  aothadtf  to  dedd* 
interfering  claims,  or  to  compel  the  refradory  to  inbmit  to  the  wiflicscfa 
majority,  had  yet  prevented  them  from  carrying  any  particular  mcafiire  into 
execution  On  the  morning  of  Monday  the  firft  day  of  July,  the  inhabitants 
bad  affembled,  for  the  purpofc  of  rcfolving  on  forae  definitive  mode  of  pnxr- 
dure.  The  judges  prevailed  on  them  to  defei*  their  intentions  for  a  (hoit 
time,  giving  them  aflurances  that  the  governour  of  the  territory  would  feartiy 
arrive,  and  that  every  arrangement,  in  the  power  of  their  domeftick  govcnir 
ment,  would  be  made  fot  their  relief.  On  thefc  reprefentations  they  coni«t. 
cd  to  defer  their  mcafurea  for  one  fortnight.  In  the  evening  of  the  fame  day 
the  governour  arrived  :  it  was  his  firft  meafure  to  prevent  any  cncroachmwtJ 
from  being  made  on  the  publick  land.  The  fituation  of  the  diftrefTei  inb^ 
*  itants  then  occupied  the  attention  of  the  members  of  the  government  for 
two  or  three  days.  The  refult  of  thefe  difcuffions  was,  to  proceed  to  hv  «l 
a  new  town,  embracing  the  whole  of  the  old  town,  and  the  publick  lands  ad- 
jacent ;  to  ftrite  to  the  people  that  nothing  in  the  nature  of  a  title  could  U 
given,  under  any  authonties  then  poflefled  by  the  government ;  and  thatlbcy 
could  not  be  jullified  in  holding  out  any  charitable  donations  whatever,  »» 
compenfation  for  their  fuffcrings  ;  but  that  every  perfonal  ezcrtion  would  dc 
ufed  to  obtain  a  confirmation  of  the  arrangements  about  to  be  made,  aooto 
pbtain  the  liberal  attention  of  the  govemmeat  of  the  United  States  to  tMcf 
fdiftrciFes.  . 

A  town  was  accordincly  furreycd  and  laid  out,  and  the  want  of  authonty 
to  impart  any  regular  title,  without  Uie  fubfequcnt  fandion  of  congrefs*  being 
flrft  impreifed,  and  clearly  underftood,  the  lots  were  expofed  to  fele  under  tlut 
refervation.  Where  the  purchafer  of  a  lot  was  a  proprietor  in  the  old  towoi 
he  was  at  liberty  to  extinguifh  his  former  property  in  his  new  ^c^"''^^^^"^^ 
for  foot,  and  was  expeded  to  pay  only  for  the  furplus,  at  the  rate  ntpf^f- 
in  his  bid.  ^  confiderable  part  of  the  inhabitants  were  only  tenants  m  tw 
old  town,  there  being  no  means  of  acquiring  any  new  titles.  The  takoi 
courfe  could  not  be  confined  merely  to  farmer  proprietors  but  as  ^ /J^P^J" 
He,  was  confined  to  firmer  inbabitants.  After  the  fale  of  a  confiderabk  ^ 
by  audion,  the  remainder  was  difpofcd  of  by  private  contrad,  ^ .  J^ 
from  the  previous  fales  the  bafis  of  the  terms.  As  foon  as  the  ncceffitiw  « 
the  immediate  inhabitants  were  accommodated,  the  iales  were  ^"^l'^^^^  "^ 
ped  until  the  pleafure  of  government  could  be  confultcd.  As  no  title  coho 
be  made,  or  was  prcUrnded  to  be  made,  no  payments  were  required,  or  viy 
monies  permitted  to  be  received  until  the  expiration  of  one  year,  ^^^jj 
time  for  congrefs  to  intcrpofe.  The  remaining  part  was  ftipuUtcd  ^°  °^  r. 
in  four  fucceffivc  annual  inftalmcnts.  The  higheft  fum  refulting  from  the  wc 
was  feven  cents,  for  a  fquare  foot,  and  the  whol,e  averaged  at  leaft  ^"f  5>,?«u 
Ih  this  way  th&  inhabitants  were  fully  fatisfied  to  commence  their  buiWi-^ 
and  the  interfering  pretenfions  of  all  individuals  were  eventually  reconcuw. 
The  'vaiiMty  of  any  of  the  titles  was  not  taken  into  view.  The  MC^^'^^ 
^pr  the  titles,  fuch  j^s  they  were,  \va$  alone  regarded^  and  the  validity  pi 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


AMXHICAV  iTATE  VAP£ft9.  f 

Vrft  to  Awak  fise  ifilie  of  fuch  isefifuret  as  congrcfs  might  adcptf  relative  to 
l^jadfd  titles  in  the  territory  of  Michigan  gtneraih,  H  therefore  now  remaina 
Cor  the  congnefs  of  the  United  States  either  to  reuife  a  fandion  of  the  arrange- 
«rMf  nt  nude^  or  by  impartiug  a  regular  authority  to  make  it,  or  in  fome  other 
xjiocic  in  their  wiiUoin  deemed  proper,  to  relieve  the  inhabitants  from  one  of 
l4ic  nw^  immediate  diAreflcs,  occafioned  by  the  calamitous  conflagration. 

Str<H\gly  iraprefled  with  a  fenfe  of  the  worth  of  the  people,  and  deeply 
c^omnHerating  their  (uffcriflgt,  of  a  great  part  of  which  they  were  eye  witnelN 
««•  the  oiicers  of  their  local  government  cannot  refrain  from  adding  their 
lorarmcA  degree  of  recommend atix)n  to  forwaid  the  liberality  the  congrefs  of 
liic  United  iitaKs  will  uoqmfftionably  be  inclined  to  exercife  towards  them  | 
strvA  the  difpo&tioo  which  will  doubtkla  prevail  towards  attaching  their  affec- 
lions*  proniotiflg  their  intereils,  and  relieving  their  diftrefs.  Whether  a  dona- 
tion of  the  acquifitions  which  have  been  ftMed,  or  of  lands  more  remote,  or 
the  application  of  the  proceeds  to  publick  purpofes  within  the  country,  will 
be  rook  advi£dbJe»  the  underfigncd  pretend  not  to  fay  ;  bat  whatever  relief 
may  be  extended  to  them  on  the  part  of  the  general  government^  they  he(i- 
19 to  ihH  to  ai&rt»  will  be  of  the  moft  cflendal  utility  to  them,  and  rendered  to 
ohje(5^s  of  real  merit. 

The  orgat^zatioo  of  the  courts  of  jofticc  next  demanded  confkleration.  A 
Judicial  fyftem  wa«  eftabliihed  on  prindples  of  convenience,  economy,  and  Om- 
plicity.  Courts  were  held  under  it,  aiid  all  the  cxifting  buftnefs  fettled.  Every 
fub^e^  requiring  to  be  Icgiflated  upon  was  aded  on,  as  far  as  the  government 
vaa  competefii  to  aA.  At  the  dole  of  the  other  arrangements,  the  militia  of 
tbc  territory  were  completely  organized  and  brought  into  the  field. 
.  The  vanpus  adts,  both  of  a  legiflative  and  executive  defcription,  win  appear 
at  Urge  in  the  femiannual  report  of  them,  which  the  laws  of  the  United  Statea 
require,  and  it  will  therefore  be  unneccifary  to  exhibit  the  details  of  them. 

The  grand  juries  conftantly  prcfcuted  addrefles  to  the  courts  on  the  fubjcft 
of  their  land  titles.  The  feveral  companies  of  militia,  eleded  delegates  to  a 
general  meeting,  winch,  among  other  objeds,  addreffed  the  government  on 
the  ftibjcdof  their  titles  ;  and  earneftly  requcfted  the  perfonal  attendance  of 
the  governour  and  one  of  the  judges,  during  a  part  of  the  feflfion  of  con- 
grcis.  Indeed  the  confnfed  fituation  of  land  titles,  during  the  nine  or  ten 
years  the  United  States  have  had  pofleflion  of  the  country,  has  been  fuch^ 
and  is  fo  i  ncreaUng  by  lapfe  of  time,  as  now  loudly  to  call  for  a  definitive 
adjuftment. 

It  is  now  nearly  a  century  and  a  half  fince  the  firft  fettlemente  were  made 
in  this  country,  under  the  French  government,  and  in  the  reign  of  Louis  the 
fourteenth,  whofe  name  it  then  bore,  in  common  with  what  has  (ince  exclu- 
fivcly  been  termed  Louiiiana.  In  167S,  an  officer,  commillioned  by  the 
Trench  government,  explored  the  waters  of  the  wett  ;  taking  his  departure 
from  lake  Michigan,  he  penetrated  to  the  OuifconBn  river,  and  afterwards  to 
the  MiflTiflippi,  and  ret  urned  through  the  Illinois  country,  after  having  failed 
down  the  MiffiiTi^pi  within  one  degree  of  latitude  of  the  fouthern  bound;«ry 
of  the  United  Sutes,  previous  to  the  late  treaty  of  Paris,  of  April,  1803,  and 
that  anleriour  to  the  difcovery  of  the  mouth  of  the  Milliffippi  by  La  Salle. 
Prior  to  this  era  the  fcttlements  of  the  ftraight  had  commenced,  and  Detroit 
claims  an  antiquity  of  fifteen  years  fuperiour  to  the  city  of  Philadelphia.  The 
few  titles  granted  by  the  government  of  France  were  of  three  French  acrea 
in  front*  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  by  forty  in  depth,  (libjedt  to  the  feudal  and 
ieignoral  conditions,  which  nfually  accoropained  thies  in  France.  The  an- 
cient French  code  called  At  coutume  dt  P^tr'u  was  the  eftabliOied  law  of  the 
country  ;  and  the  rights  of  land  were  made  ftridly  conformable  to  it.  All 
thcfe  grants,  however,  required  the  grantee,  in  a  limited  period,  to  obtain  a 
confirmation  from  the  king  ;  and,  with  the  exception  of  a  very  few,  this  con-- 
firmation  has  never  been  made.  On  the  conqueft  of  the  French  poffcflfions 
by  Great-Britain,  in  the  war  wliich  terminated  by  the  treaty  of  Paris  in  the 
year  U^Sy  as  well  ia  original  articles  of  capitulation  io  1759  and  in  1760,  as 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


t  AMEIUCAN  STATE  PAPERS. 

in  the  fubfeqaent  treaty  itfelf,  the  property  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  conntiyii 
confined  to  them.  The  expreffion  in  the  original  is,  Uurs  bierUinohUs  et  ignoMeSf 
'  sneidfles  et  immeubles*  It  is  therefore  conceived  to  comprehend  tbete  lands. 
On  the  acquifition  by  the  United  States  of  America  of  that  portion  of  Cana- 
da which  is  now  comprehended  within  the  limits  of  the  territory  of  MichigaD» 
by  the  definitive  treaty  of  peace,  at  Paris,  in  1783,  the  fnbjeds  of  his  Britan* 
mck  majefty  arc  fecured  from  lofs,  or  damage  in  perfon,  liberty,  or  property, 
and  in  the  treaty  of  London,  negociatcd  between  Mr.  Jay  and  lord  GrenviUe, 
in  November,  1794,  they  are  ftill  more  particularly  confirmed  in  their  pro- 
perty of  every  kind,  land,  houfes,  or  effeds.  However  defedive,  thcref<m, 
Uie  clafs  of  original  proprietors  may  be,  with  refpedt  to  the  ewdfiue  of  title 
according  to  the  American  forms,  it  is  conceived  their  rights  are  extremdy 
itrong.  The  Britifh  government  granted  few  titles,  and  tfcfc  were  gencraDy 
mere  permiifions  of  military  officers  to  ufe  or  occupy  certain  pieces  of  land, 
often  unaccompanied  with  any  written  evidences,  but  aifumingtfrom  long  con- 
tinued pofieffion,  an  appearance  of  right.  Under  the  American  goTermneot 
no  titles  of  any  kind  have  been  granted.- 

From  this  ftate  of  things  fome  confequences  have  refuhed,  which  are  iMl 
indeed  difficult  to  forefec,  but  which  it  is  difficult  to  remedy.    One  of  tbcfc 
confequences,  and  perhaps  not  the  leaft  important^  is  the  cm^  it  has  bad  on 
the  deftiny  and  moral  charader  of  the  progeny  of  the  oiiginal  colonifts. 
When  it  is  remembered,  that  the  troops  of  Louiv  the  fourteenth,  came  with- 
out women,  the  defcription  of  perfons  conftituting  the  fecond  gener^ioo  wiQ 
not  be  diffi/cult  to  conceive.    When  it  is  confidered  at  the   fame  time,  that 
deftitute  of  titles  to  land,  they  were  precluded  from  the  means  of  acquiring 
them,  it  will  be  obvious  that  an  entrance  into  the  favage  focicties,  or  atmoft 
employments  in  the  commerce  carried  on  with  them,  were  their  only  refourccs. 
While,  therefore,  the  American  colonizations  of  the  fame,  and  of  fubfajooit 
date,  have  grown  into  regular,  agricultural,  and  opulent  ftates,  tbefe  countria 
have  been  deftined  to  anarchy,  to  ignorance,  to  poverty.    The  emigrant, 
whom  curiofity,  or  enterprife,  at  anv  time  brought  into  the  country,  was 
either  attradcd  to  the  Britifti  fide  ot  it,  or  difappeared  in  fome  mode  WJcafy 
to  account  for.    Acceffion,  by  foreign  population,  and  by  natural  increaic, 
being  thus,  at  once  cut  off,  the  fote  of  this  fine  region  hasneceffarily  been  that 
infigntficance  which  ftill  belongs  to  it.    The  Britifh  government,  in  recent  pe- 
riods, have  confirmed  original  proprietors,  made  a  donation  of  a  quantity  equal 
to  the  original  g^ant,  termed  a  eontinuathn  ;  and  have  granted  lands  to  fcttkn 
without  any  other  price  than  common  fees  of  office  attending  the  acqaifitiai 
of  the  grant.  Such,  however,  is  the  ineftimable  value  of  liberty  to  man,  that 
notwithftanding  thefe,  and,  if  poffible,  greater  inducements  to  the  fcttler»,thc 
underfigned  venture  to  predid  a  marked  fuperiority  to  the  American  fide,cwn 
at  the  prices  at  prefent  required  by  the  American  government,  or  a  flight  vaj 
riationofthem,  if  the  old  claims  are  at  once  adjufted,  and  the  country  laid 
open  to  the  acquifition  of  new  title. 

From  the  ftate  of  the  country  which  has  been  reprefented,  another  confc- 
^uence  has  refulted.  Encroachments,  in  fome  inftances,  grafted  on  originjl 
title,  and  in  others  without  a  femblance  of  title,  have  been  made  on  land* 
which  are  or  ought  to  be,  the  property  of  the  United  SUtes.  Indiyidoaw 
have  proceeded  to  extinguiftj  the  native  right,  contrary  to  tbe  regolati(Wsw 
all  the  governments ;  and  in  fome  inftances  extetifive  fettlements  have  bcefl 
made  on  titles  thus  acquired.  What  arrangements  the  United  States  ww 
inake  on  this  head  it  belongs  not  to  us  to  anticipate  ;  we  fhall  only  rccoffl- 
mend  a  liberal  and  merciful  difpofition  to  the  people  of  this  country?  w 
whom  it  may  be  lafcly  aflerted  they  are  le&  to  be  charged  with  ^^?^fl° 
diaradter,  than  their  governments,  have  been  with  cruel  negleA  ^  m\Bff' 
<nce. 

The  claims  of  the  prefent  inhabitants  require  to  b^  confidered  under  on« 
•more  afpcd,  novel  indeed,  but  not  the  Icfs  founded  m  truth.  When  the  Amcr* 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


AMERICAN  STATfc   1»AI'ERS.  f 

fican  <!omcs  intb  contaft  with  the  aborignal,  if  he  is  not  confidefed  as  art 
enemy,  he  is  at  leaft  regarded  as  a  charadler  with  whom  they  arc  to  ftrngg1e» 
and,if  in  no  other,  certainly  in  a  pecuniary  view.  But  the  Canadian,  allied  by 
blood,  by  long  eftablifhed  intcrcourfe,  by  a  countlefs  reciprocity  of  fervices^ 
their  native  claims  having  long,  as  to  time,  been  extinpui(hcd,and  their  honour 
and  good  faith  having  bten  repeatedly  pledged  for  his  protedtion^  is  uniformly 
regarded  as  their  brother,  and  with  him  they  are  difpofed  to  make  a  common 
caufe.  Wcixctjuflice^  and  liberal  jujlicey  to  the  Canadian  inhabitant  is  art 
important  point  of  policy  in  the  condu^  of  the  American  govcrnitlent  towards 
the  aboriginal  inhabitants.  - 

The  extent  of  the  Canadian  extingiiifhmcnt  of  Indian  title,  though  in  itfelr 
indefinite,  appcarh  firft  to  have  received  limits  in  the  trcatv  of  fort  Mac  Intofh# 
in  1785.  We  there  firft  find  a  written  derclidlion  or  Indian  claim  fof  a 
breadth  of  fix  miles  from  La  Riviere  aux  Raifins,  now  called  Rofine,  on  lake 
Erie,  to  the  lake  St.  Clair.  In  the  fubfequent  treaty  of  fort  Harmar  in  1789* 
the  fame  dereliction  is  CQnfirmed.  In  the  ulterior  treaty  of  Grctnvilk,  in  1795, 
the  confirmation  is  repeated,  and  additions  made. 

The  treaty  with  Great  Britain,  of  178;?,  and  the  fubfequent  one  of  1794, 
Were  made  for  the  accomplifiiment  of  great  national  obje(5ts,  having  very  lit- 
tle conne(5lion  with  Canadian  and  Indian  claims.  The  treaties  of  fort 
Mac  lutofii,  fort  Harmar,  and  of  Greenville,  were  all  formed  on  other 
far  more  important  points  ;  and  the  quantity  of  extinguiihed  Indian  ti- 
tle in  Michigan  recognized  by  them  is  Icfs  to  be  confidered  as  an  acqu:Jit'inn 
of  rie<w  title,  than  a  definition  of  the  old.  The  expenfe  of  thefc  nego- 
ciations  therefore  can  fcarcely  be  faid,  in  any  fenfe,  to  attach  to  this  country  ; 
and  perhaps  it  may  be  truly  faid  that  all  the  Indian  title  at  prefent  extinguilh- 
cd  within  the  territory  of  Michigan  has  not  cotl  the  itnited  States  a  fingle 
dollar  ;  but  is  entirely  a  recognition  of  a  previous,  but  indefinite  title,  extin* 
guilhed  by  the  Canadians.  Hence  a  queftion  will  arife,  whether  it  is  more* 
than  barely  jujlice  to  the  inhabitants  to  allow  them  the  whole  of  this  part,  or* 
othcrwife  to  permit  the  proceeds  of  it  to  be  applied  to  their  benefit,in  the  edu- 
cation of  their  youth,  in  the  ereiition  of  publick  buildings,  fuch  as  court  houfca 
and  jails,  which  the  late  conflagration  has  entirely  deprived  them  of,  and  irt 
laying  out  roads,  and  other  improvements  in  their  country.  Next  to  the  ad-» 
jtiftment  of  the  old  titles  comes  the  acquifition  of  new.  It  is  believed  that  at 
this  period,  and  in  a  particular  mode,  a  very  large  portion  of  Indian  title  may 
be  ihortly  cltinguilhed  ;  but  as  this  part  of  the  fabje<fl  may  hereafter  be 
deemed  confidential,  it  is  made  the  fubje<S  of  a  diftindt  report. 

On  an  occafion  like  the  prefent  it  may  aot  be  unadvifable  to  rcvife  fome  of 
the  regulations  relative  to  the  territory. 

On  all  the  fubjefts  requiring  legiflation  the  prefent  government  a(ft  withf 
difficulty,  and  on  many  cannot  aS  at  all.  All -laws  will  be  found  to  operat<i 
on  particular /A?c«,  times,  2Xi^perfons  ;  and  in  no  ftate,  which  enters  into  the 
compofition  elf  the  American  union,  will  an  abftra^  code  of  principles  be  dif-* 
covered  free  fi*om  a  connexion,  and  that  a  very  clofe  one,  with  the  placei^ 
times,  SLnd  perfons  afFedted  by  them.  Hence  the  ftri(5t  adopt icfi  of  any  code,  or 
even  of  any  one  law,becomcs  impoflible.  To  make  it  applicable  it  muft  be  adap- 
ted to  the  geography  of  the  country,  to  its  temporary  circumftances  and  exi- 
gencies, and  to  the  particular  chara^er  of  the  perlons  over  whom  it  is  to  ope- 
rate. Hitherto  it  has  been  religioufly  the  objed  to  follow  what  has  been 
deemed  thefubftance  of  the  law,  whatever  modifications  the  form  of  it  was 
obliged  to  undergo.  But  different  minds  will  not  always  concfpond  in  fenli- 
ment  on  what  \%fubftance,  and  what  is  form  |  and  in  all  the  litigations  whi^*4i 
arife  under  laws,  thofe  affc<fting  the  validity  of  the  law  itfelf  arc  the  nroft  intri- 
cate and  difficult.  Hence,  in  a  country  whofe  adminiftration  ought  to  be 
marked  with  fimplicity,  intricacy,  procraftinatiot),  and  uncertainty  in  aff.itrs 
refult.    To  adopt  laws  from  all  the  original  iUlcSi  the  laws  of  all  the  original 

Vol.  HI.  Appendix.  B 


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10  irM£RlCA5    STATE    PAPEftSv 

ftatcs  ou^ht  to  be  fumiflied  ;  and  waving  the  difficulty  and  expenfe  of  procw^ 
ing  them,  what  body  of  men,  under  the  pieflure  of  immediate  bufinefsy  can  ac' 
quire  a  complete  acquaintance  with  them  ?  The  poifeffion  of  all  the  codes,  if 
it  were  poUible,  and  a  complete  aquaintance  with  their  contents,  would  ftill 
prove  an  abortive  cure  ;  for,  in  many  very  fimpk  cafes,  aftri^  precedent  will 
be  fcarched  for  in  vain.  Is  the  obje<^  to  c(l»bliOva  ferry,  to  regulate  the  affairfr 
of  any  diftri^,  to  ere^  a  court  houfe,  or  to  inftitute  a  ichod,  however  urgent 
the  call,  however  obvious  the  means,  it  muft  often  be  abandoned  for  want  of 
a  precedent  that  will  apply  ;  and  often  when  attempted,  may  be  defeated, 
from  the  want  of  a  ftrid  correfpondence  between  the  law  made  and  the  pre- 
cedent from  which  it  profefles  to  be  adopted  ?  The  real  fecurity  for  the  pre- 
valence of  republican  principles  reft  a  not  in  a  provifion  of  this  awkward  kindf 
for  even  in  the  codes  of  the  ftates  the  difcipleof  ariiVocracy  may  fometimc* 
find  a  weapon.  It  reds  in  the  general  probability  that  the  adminiftrations  of 
this  defcription  will  be  conformable  to  the  general  adminiftration.  It  rcftsin 
the  parental  controi  of  congrefs.  Experience  is  the  beft  teft  of  the  propriety  or 
impropriety  of  a  law,  and  if  a  law  be  made  which  gives  diflatiafat^on,  the  na- 
tural reforl  is  to  the  authority  ftrft  making/or  its  corre^ion,  and  when,  from 
defedt  of  power  or  of  inclination^  the  evil  is  fotUKl  irremediable  by  them,  to 
Aiperiour  authority. 

Tlie  requiring  apoflcflion  of  certain  qivantitics  of  land  in  various  officers  it 
not  only  impra^icable  in  the  prefent  inftance ;  but  the  policy  on  which  the 
provifion  may  have  originally  been  grounded  has  ceafed  to  exift. 

The  fouthem  boundary  of  the  territory  is  indefinite.  Though  in  the  pre- 
fent maps  of  the  United  States,  a  line  of  latitude  through  the  fouthem  bend 
of  lake  Michigan  appears  to  ftrike  lake  Eric  near  the  mouth  of  the  Miami,  yet 
in  the  maps  of  Arrowfmith  and  M'Kenfie,  fuch  a  Kne  of  latitude  would  not 
ftrike  lake  Eric,  but  pafs  entirely  fouth  of  it.  The  arwtiety  of  the  fouthcn> 
fettlers  of  the  territory  is  great,  not  to  be  attached  to  the  ftate  of  Ohio,  whidi 
would  be  incommodious  to  them,  but  to  Michigan,  which  is  fo  much  more 
convenient.  The  wcftem  end  of  lake  Erie  even  from  Sanduiky  would  fccl 
this  convenience. 

The  cafe  oftheWiandot  Indians  defervcs  the  confideration  of  goycra- 
ment.  They  live  in  two  towns,  Magttaga  and  Brown's  town,  within  the  iimitt 
of  the  American  title.  To  the  trtaty  of  fort  Harmar  a  claufe  was  annexed 
ftipulating  that  they  might  remain  unmolefted.  In  the  treaty  of  GrccnvilJe 
this  provifion  is  omitted. .  They  conftantly  aflcrt,  and  there  arc  not  wanting 
reputable  citizens  who  join  them  in  the  aflTcrtion,  that  they  were  Iblcmnly 
promifed  by  general  Wayne  a  continuance  of  the  indulgence.  It  may  there- 
fore be  worthy  of  ferious  confidcration,whether  it  may  not  be  advifablcin  the 
adjuftment  of  titles  to  recognife  their  poifeiTions,  and  invcft  them  with  the 
€hara<5ler  of  citizens. 

(Signed)  WILLIAM  HULL,  Governour  of  the  Tcrritoiy  rf 

Michigan. 
(Signed)  A.  B.  WOODWARD,  Pjcading  Judge  o£d(K 


DOCUMENTS  AND  PAPERS  RELATrVE  TO  COMPLAINTS  BT  TH» 
GOVERNMENT  OF  FRANCE,  AGAINST  THE  COMMERCE  CARBIKI> 
ON  BY  AMERICAN  CITIZENS  IN  THE  FRENCH  ISLAND  OF  ST.  DO" 
MINGO. 

To  the  Senate  of  the  United  States.  ^^ 

•  IN  compliance  with  the  requeft  of  the  fenate,  cxprcflcd  in  their  refoia^ 
•f  Dec.  27, 1  DOW  lay  before  them  fuCh  documcatt  and  papers  (that  bw 


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AMEHICAN    STATE    PAPERS.  H 

«oottier  infornnntion  in  my  pofifeflion)  as  relate  to  complaints  by  the  govern- 
ment of  France,  againit  the  commerce  carried  on  by  the  citizens  of  the  Uui-* 
^d  States  to  the  French  illand  of  St.  Do;ningo. 

January  \Qth^  1806.  Th.   JEFFERSON. 


From  C€nerai  TuiiREAi;  to  the  Secretary  of  State. 

OBober  14,1805. 

THE  underfignedminifterplcnipotwitiary  of  "his  imperial  and  royal  majefty, 
to  his  excellency  the  prefident  of  the  United  States  of  America,  has  tcftified,in 
his  convcrfaiion  with  the  fccretary  of  <ftate,  his  juft  difcontcnt  with  the  com- 
mercial relations,  which  many  citizens  of  djfferent  ftates  of  the  union  main- 
tain with  the  rebels  of  every  colour,  who  have  momentarily  withdrawn  the 
colony  of  St.  Domingo  from  the  legal  authority. 

The  principles  injurioufly  affected  by  fuch  a  commerce,  or  rather  by  fuch  a 
fyftem  of  robbery  (brigandage)  are  fo  evident,  fo  generally  acknowledged, 
and  adopted  not  only  by  all  nations,  who  have  a  colonial  fyftem  to  defend,  but 
even  by  thofe  who  have  none  :  and  moreover  even  by  every  wife  people  to 
whatfoever  political  aggregation  tbey  may  belong  ;  that  the  ftatefman,  if  he 
has  not  loft  every  idea  of  juftice,of  humanity,and  of  publick  law,  can  no  more 
conteft  their  wiidom,  than  their  -exiftence.  And  certainly  the  underiigned,  in 
finding  himfelf  called  hy  his  duty,  as  well  as  by  his  inclination,  in  the  bofom  of 
a  friendly  people,  and  near  the  refpe^able  chief  who  direds  its  government  ; 
certainly  the  tmderfigned  ought  not  to  have  expected  that  his  firft  political 
relations  would  have  for  their  objed  a  complaint  fo  ferious,  an  infradtion  {q 
manifeft  of  law,  the  moft  facredy  and  the  bcft  obfervcd  by  every  nation  under 
the  dominion  of  civilization. 

-But  it  was  not  enough  for  fome  citizens  of  the  United  States  to  convey 
munitions  of  every  kind  to  the  rebels  of  St.  Domingo,  to  that  race  of  African 
(laves,  the  reproach,  and  the  rcfufe  of  nature  ;  it  was  moreover  neceffary  to 
infure  the  fucccfs  of  this  ignoble  and  criminal  traffick  by  the  ufe  of  force.  The 
veffels  deftined  to  protcd  it  are  conftruded,  loaded,  armed,  in  all  the  ports  of 
the  union,  underthe  eyes  of  the  American  people,  of  its  particular  authority, 
arui  of  the  federal  government  itfelf  ;  and  this  government  which  has  taken 
for  the  bails  of  its  political  career  the  moft  fcrupulous  equity*  and  the  moft 
impartial  neutrality,  does  not  forbid  k. 

Without  doubt,  and  notwithftanding  the  profound  confideration  with 
which  the  minifter  plenipotentiary  of  the  French  empire  is  penetrated  for  the 
government  of  the  union  ;  he  might  enlarge  ftiH  farther  iip6n  the  refledliont 
niggefted  by  fuch  a  ftate  of  things,  a  circumftance  fo  important,  fo  unexpec- 
ted. But  it  would  be  equally  as  affliding  for  him  to  dwell  upon  it,  to 
ftate  its  confequences,  as  it  would  be  for  riief^overnment  to  hear  them. 

The  fecretary  of  ftate,  who  pcrfed^ly  knows  the  juftice  of  the  principles,  and 
the  legitimacy  of  the  rights  referred  to  in  this  note,  will  be  of  opinion  that 
neither  are  iufceptible  of  difcuflion  ;  becaufe  a  principle  univerfally  alfented 
to,  a  right  generally  eftabliflied,  is  never  difcuifed,  or  at  leaft  is  difcufled  in 
vain.  The  only  way  open  for  the  redrefs  of  thcfe  complaints  ia  to  put  an 
end  to  the  tolerance  whw:h  produces  them,  and  which  daily  aggravates  thefie 
confequences. 

Moreover  thts  note,  founded  upon  fa6ls  not  lefs  evident  than  the  principles 
which  they  infra^  does  not  permit  the  underfigned  to  doubt  that  the  govern- 
ment of  the  U.  States  will  take  the  moft  prompt,  as  well  as  the  moft  eftcAual 
prohibitory  meafurcs,  in  order  to  put  an  end  to  its  caufe  ;  and  he  feizes  with 
cagemeis  this  occafion  of  renewing  to  the  fecretary  of  ftatCi  the  afTurance  of 
to  high  confideration.  (Signed)  TU|IR£AU» 

Faithfully  tranflated. 

J^  ^k.%^z^^QbiefQlerk^Departm€ntStaU.  , 


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19  AMERICAN   STATE    PAPERS. 

General  Turrbau,  Minifter  PUnipotentiarj  of  bis  Imperial  and  Reyal  Ma* 
jejly^  to  Mr.  Madisov^  Secretary  of  State. 

tVaJhington,  2d  Jan.  1806. 

Sir— Formal  orders  of  my  government  oblige  mctoinfift  upon  thecontcDti 
of  my  official  note,  of  the  I4th  of  0<5\ober»  relative  to  the  commerce,  which 
fomt  inhabiiants  of  the  United  States  maintain  >vith  the  rebclsof  St.  Domingo, 

Not  receiving  any  anfwcr  to  that  note,  1  had  room  to  hope,  that  the  go- 
vernment of  the  union  would  take  prompt  and  cffedlual  meafures  to  put  an 
end  to  the  caufes  which  produced  it ;  but  your  filence  towards  me,  elpcdalr 
ly  hi  relation  to  St.  Domingo,  and  that  of  your  government  towards  congreftt 
impofesupon  me  the  duty  of  recalling  to  your  lecollcdtion  the  (aid  official 
note,  and  of  renewing  to  you  my  complaints  upon  the  tolerance  given  to  an 
abufe,  as  (hocking,  as  coiitrary  to  the  law  of  nations,  as  it  is  to  the  treaty  of 
peace  and  friend Ihip  cxifting  between  France  and  the  United  States. 

I  will  not  return,  fir,  to  the  different  circumftanc«8  which  have  attended  the 
commerce  with  the  revolted  part  of  St.  Domingo,  to  the  fcandalous  publicity 
given  to  its  fhameful  fuccefs ;  to  the  rewards  and  encomiums  proftituted  upoQ 
the  crews  of  armed  veflels,  whofe  deftination  is  to  protcd^  the  voyages,  IQ 
carry  munitions  of  every  kind  to  the  rebels,  and  thus  to  nourifli  rebellion  and 
|*obbery^. 

You  ought  not  to  be  furprifed,  fir,  that  I  call  anew  the  attention  oflb« 
American  government  to  this  fubjedt. — His  excellency  Mr.  Talleyrand  has 
already  teftified  his  difcontent  to  Gen.  Armftrong,  your  minifter  plenipotcn. 
tiary  at  Parie  ;  and  you  will  be  of  opinion,  that  it  is  at  length  time  to  purfu^ 
formal  meafures  againft  every  adventure  to  the  ports  of  St.  Domingo  occupi- 
f d  by  the  rebel?.  Thp  fyftem  of  tolerance  which  produces  this  commerce, 
V'hich  futfers  its  being  armed,  which  encourages  by  impunity  its  extenfionand 
Its  excefs,  cannot  longer  remain  ;  and  the  cmperour  and  king  my  maftcr,  ex- 
pels from  the  dignity  and  the  candour  of  the  govcmroent  of  the  union,  that 
an  end  will  be  put  to  it  promptly. 

I  add  to  this  difpatch  a  copy  of  the  official  note,  which  has  already  bccj 
tranfmitted  to  you.  I  earneftly  rcqucft,  that  you  acknowledge  th<  receipt  oi 
both,  and  receive  anew  aflurances  of  my  high  confideiation. 

(Signed)  TURR£AU, 

FaithfpUy  tranflated. 

J.  Wagner,  Cbiff  Clfri,  Department  cf  State, 

from  Mr.  Tallevrawd  ta  Gen.  Armstrong,  nuitbout  doU^  i^t  rrmvfd 
in  Gen.  Arm^rong's  letter  to  t  be  Secretary  of  St  ate  ^  of  lOth  Jug'  1805* 

Sir— I  have  feveral  times  had  the  honour  to ^ call  your  attention  to  the 
pommerce  carried  on  from  the  porta  of  the  United  States  to  thofe  of  St.  p^ 
fningo  occupied  by  the  rebels.  Thefe  commercial  communicationi 
ivould  appear  to  be  almoft  daily  increafed.  In  order  to  cover  their  trpc 
fieftination,  the  veflels  are  cleared  for  the  Weft  Indict,  without  a  more  parlic- 
plar  dcfignation  of  the  place,  and  with  the  aid  of  thefe  commiflion^  profi- 
ions,  arms,  and  other  objects  of  fupply,  of  which  they  ftand  in  need,  arc  cart 
fied  to  the  rebels  of  St.  Domingo.  # 

Although  thefe  adventures  may  be  no  more  than  the  rcfult  of  pn'ratc  fpfco- 
Jations,  the  government  of  the  United  States  is  not  the  lefs  ci^aged  to  put  fj 
f  nd  to  them,  by  a  confequencc  of  the  obligations  which  bind  together  all  tw 
civilized  powers,  all  thofe  who  are  in  a  ftate  of  peace.  No  govcmmc"^  *^^ 
fccond  the  fpirit  of  revolt  of  the  f^ibjcifts  of  another  power  ;  and»  ***"??* 
Kate  of  things,  it  cannot  maintain  communications  with  themi  it  ought  ow  w 
pyour  thofe  which  its  own  fubjeds  maintain. 

If  i|  in2|)offible^  that  the  ^oyernm;|it  of  thc,V«4^«4  S^at^*  ?*<*"'^    ^^ 


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AHERICAW   STATE    PAPERi.  IS 

Ihut  Us  eyes  upon  the  communications  of  their  commerce  with  St.  Domingo* 
The  adventures  for  that  ifland  are  making  with  a  fcandalous  publicity.  They 
are  fupported  by  armed  vcflels  ;  at  their  return,  featts  are  given,  in  order  to 
yaunt  the  fucceis  of  their  fpeculations  ;  and  the  acknowledgment,  evert  the 
eulogies  of  the  government  are  fo  much  relied  upon,that  it  is  at  thefe  feafts,and 
in  the  midft  of  an  immenfe  concourfe,  where  are  fotfnd  the  firft  authorities  of 
the  country,  that  the  principles  of  the  government  of  Haiti  are  celebratcd,and 
that  vows  are  made  for  its  duration. 

I  have  the  honour,  fir,  to  tranfmit  to  your  excellency  an  cxtra<5t  of  an  Ame- 
rican journal,  in  which  are  contained  fundry  details  ofafcaft,  given  in  the 
port  of  New  York,  on  board  of  a  convoy  which  had  arrived  from  St.  Do- 
mingo. 

The  ninth  toaft,giyen  to  the  government  of  Haiti,  cannot  fail  to  excite  your 
indignation.  It  is  not,  after  having  covered  every  thing  with  blood  and  with 
•bins,  that  the  rebels  of  St.  Domingo  ought  to  have  found  apologias  in  a  na- 
tion, the  friend  of  France. 

But  they  do  not  (top  at  their  firft  fpeculations.  The  company  of  merchantSt 
which  gave  a  feaft  on  the  return  of  their  adventure,  is  preparing  a  fecond  con- 
voy, and  propofe  to  place  it  under  the  efcoit  of  feveral  armed  veflels. 
*  I  have  the  honour,  (ir,  to  give  you  this  information,  in  order  that  you  may 
be  pleafed  to  call  the  moll  ferious  attention  of  your  government  towards  a  feries 
of  fa(ft3,  which  it  becomes  its  dignity  and  candour  no  longer  to  permit.  The 
federal  government,  cannot  fo  far  fepa rate  itfelffrom  the  inhabitants  of  the 
United  States,  as  to  permit  to  them  ads  and  communications,  which  it  thinks 
itfclf  boimd  to  interdict  to  itfelf  ;  or,  as  to  think  that  it  can  diftinguifii  its 
own  reponfibility  from  that  of  its  fubje<^8,  when  there  is  in  qaeftion  an  unpar- 
alleled revoltjwhofe  circumftancesand  whofe  horrible  confequencesmuft  alarm 
all  nations,  and  who  are  all  equally  intereftcd  in  feeing  it  ccafe. 

France  ought  to  cxpedt  from  the  amity  of  the  United  States,  and  hip  majef* 
ty  charges  me,  fir,  to  requeft  in  his  name,  that  they  interdiA  ev«ry  private  ad- 
venture, which,  under  any  pretext  or  defignation  whatfoever,  may  be  dcftincd 
to  the  ports  of  St.  Domingo,  occupied  by  the  rebels. 

Receive,  General,  the  afl'uranccs  of  my  high  confidcration. 

(Signed)  Ch.  JV|.  TALLEYRAND, 

To   his    Excellency    General  Armftrong, 

Miniftcr  Plenipotentiary  of  the  U.States. 
Faithfully  tranflated. 
).  Wagner,  Chief  CUrk^  Department  State. 


From  Mr,  Talleyrand  to  General  Armstrong, 

P/2r/V,  99tb  Tbermidort  IStbjear,  (l6tb  Auguft^  1805.) 
8 »R— Since  the  letter  I  had  the  honour  to  write  to  you  on  the  2d  Thcrmidor. 
concerning  the  armaments  which  were  making  in  the  ports  of  the  United 
States,  for  the  weftem  parts  of  St.  Domingo,  frefh  information  upon  thi^ 
point  confirms  every  thing  which  had  been  received.  -The  adventures  to 
8t.  Domingo  arc  publickly  made  ;  veflels  arc  armed  for  war  to  proteft  the 
convoys  ;  and  it  is  in  virtue  of  contracts,  entered  into  between  Delfalines 
and  American  merchants,  that  the  latter  fend  him  fupplks  and  munitions  of 
war. 

I  add,  fir,  to  the  letter  I  have  the  honour  to  write  to  you,  a  copy  of  a  fen^ 
tence  given  at  Halifax  in  the  matter  of  a  merchant  of  New- York,  who  had 
conveyed  into  the  revolted  part  of  St.  Domingo,  three  cargoes  of  gun  powder, 
and  who  was  taken  on  his  return  by  an  Englilh  frigate. 

If  even  in  the  EngliOi  tribunal,  where  this  prize  was  condemned,  thf  whole 
)(}4nd  of  St.  Don^ingo  was  qonlidcrcd  as  a  f  rench  colony}  how  can  the  fcd^^ 


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14  AMERICAN   STATE   PAPtltS. 

rat  gOTcmmcnt  tolerate  that  the  rebels  of  this  colony  fhould  continue  to  re- 
ceive from  AmcHca  fuccours  again  ft  the  parent  country  ?  It  is  impoffiblc 
that  that  government  (hould  be  ignorant  of  the  armaments  making  in  its  port*. 
Too  nwich  publicity  is  given  to  them,  not  to  render  it  rcafonable,  and  it  ought 
to  perceive  that  it  is  contrary  to  every  fyftem  of  peace  and  good  fricndJhip 
to  fuffer  longer,  in  its  ports,  armaments  evidently  direfted  againft  France. 

Without  doubt  the  federal  government  would  not  wifti,  in  order  to  favour 
certain  private  fpeculations,  to  give  new  facilities  to  rebellion  and  robbery 
(brigandage)  ;  and  tolerance  of  a  commerce  fo  fcandalous  would  be  unworthy 
of  it.  Neither  your  government  nor  his  majefty  can  be  any  longer  indiffercm 
to  it ;  and  as  the  ferioufncfs  of  the  fads,  which  occafton  this  compUinty  obliges 
his  majefty  to  confider  as  good  prize  every  thing  which  (hall  enter  the  port  oi 
St.  Domingo,  occupied  by  the  rebels,  and  every  thing  coming  out,  he  pcr- 
Cuades  himfelf,  that  the  government  of  the  United  States  will  take,  on  its  part, 
sgainft  this  commerce,  at  once  illicit  and  contrary  to  all  the  principles  of  tht 
law  of  nations,  all  the  repreffive  and  authoritative  meafures  proper  to  put  aa 
end  to  it.  This  fyftem  of  impunity  and  tolerance*  can  no  longer  continue ; 
and  his  majefty  is  convinced,  that  your  government  will  think  it  due  from  its 
.  franknefs  promptly  to  put  an  end  to  it. 

Receive,  fir,  the  a(i\irances  of  my  high  coofidcrations. 

(Signed)  Ch.  M.  TALLEYRAND. 

To  his  Excellency  General  Armftrong, 

Faithfully  tranjlated, 

J.  WACVfty  Chief  ClerJk  Department  State. 


«'HB     VIOLATIOK     OP     NEUTRAL    RIGHTS,   THE   DCPREDATIOIfS  ON    Till 
COLONIAL   TRADE,   AND   IMPRESSMENTS    OF   AMERICAN   SEAMEN. 

To  the  Senate  and  Houfe  of  Reprefentativet 
of  the  United  States.  - 

J[N  my  mc0age  to  both  Houfes  of  Congrefs,  at  the  opening  of  their  prefent 
feflion,  I  fubmitted  to  their  attention,  among  other  fubjed^s,  the  oppreffioo  of 
r>ur  commerce  and  navigation  by  th<e  irregular  piaAices  of  armed  vciTcls,  pub- 
lick  and  private,  and  by  the  introduction  of  new  principIes,derogatory  of  the 
rights  of  neutrals,  and  unacknowledged  by  the  u&ge  of  nations. 

The  memorials  of  feverrf  bodies  of  merchants  of  the  United  States  are  now 
communicated,  and  will  develope  thefe  principles  and  pradices,  which  are 
producing  the  moft  ruinous  effedts  on  our  lawful  commerce  and  navigatioo. 

The  right  of  a  neutral  to  carry  on  commoreial  iotercourfe  with  every  part 
of  the  dominions  of  a  belligerent,  permitted  by  the  laws  of  the  country  (with 
the  exception  of  blockaded  ^rts,  and  contraband  of  war)  was  believed  to 
have  been  decided  between  Great-Britain  and  the  United  States,  by  the  iro- 
tence  of  their  commiflioners,  nuitually  appointed  to  decide  on  that  and  other 
queftions  of  difference  between  the  two  nations  ;  and  by  theadual  payment 
of  the  damages  awarded  by  them  againft  Great-Britain,  for  the  infradiooi  of 
that  right.  When,  therefore,  it  was  perceived  that  the  iame  principle  was 
revived,  with  others  more  novel,  and  extending  the  injury,  inftrudions  were 
given  to  the  minifter  plenipotentiary  of  the  United  Sutes  at  the  court  of  Lon- 
don, and  remonft ranees  duly  made  by  him  on  this  fubjed,  as  will  appear  by 
documents  tranfmitted  herewith.  Thefe  were  followed  by  a  partial  and 
temporary  fufpendon  only,  without  any  difavowal  of  the  principle.  He  has, 
therefore,  been  inftruded  to  urge  this  uibjed  a^ew,  to  bring  it  more  fully  to 
the  bar  of  reafon,  and  to  infift  on  rights  too  evident  and  too  important  to  be 
ibixrendered.  In  the  meantime,  the  evil  is  proceeding  under  adjudicatioM 
*  Nfp^^rroit  durer  d^ advantage* 


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AMERICAN   STATE    T\Tt.R9,  1^ 

founded  on  the  principle  which  is  denied.    Under  thefc  circumfUnces,  the 
fubjed  prefcnts  itfelf  for  the  conlideration  of  congrefs. 

On  the  impreflroent  of  our  feamcn,  our  remouftrances  have  never  been  in* 
t^rmitted.  A  hope  exifted  at  one  moment,  of  an  arrangement  which  might 
have  been  fubmitted  to  ;  but  it  foon  paiTcd  away  ;  and  the  pra^ice,  though 
relaxed  at  times  in  the  diftant  feas,  has  been  couftantly  purfucd  in  thole  in 
our  neighbourhood.  The  grounds  on  which  the  reclamations  on  this  fubjeft 
have  been  urged,  will  appear  in  an  extradt  from  inftruAions  to  our  minifter  at 
London,  now  communicated.  TH  :  JEFFERSON. 

January  17, 1806. 

Extras  of  a  letter  from  the  Secretary  of  State  to  James  Monroe,  Efq.  dated 
Department  of  State^  April  12,   1806. 

•«  THE  papers  herewith  indofed,  explain  particularly  the  cafe  of  the  brig 
Aurora. 

**  The  fum  of  the  cafe  is,  that  whilft  Spain  was  at  war  with  Great  Britain^ 
this  veflcl,  owned  by  a  citizen  of  the  United  States,  brought  a  cargo  of  Span- 
i(h  produce,  purchafed  at  the  Havana,  from  that  place  to  Charlefton,  where 
the  cargo  was  landed,  except  an  infignificant  portion  of  it,  and  the  duties  paid, 
or  feciired,  according  to  law,  in  like  manner  as  they  arc  required  to  be  paid. 
Of  fecured,  on  a  like  cargo,  from  whatever  port,  meant  for  home  confump- 
tton  ;  that  the  cargo  remained  on  land  about  three  weeks,  when  it  was  rc" 
(hipped  forBarcelona,  in  old  Spain,  and  the  duties  drawn  back,  with  a  deduc- 
tion of  three  and  a  half  per  cent,  as  is  permitted  to  imported  articles  in  all 
cafes,  at  any  time  within  cme  yecr,  tmder  certain  regulations,  which  were 
purfued  in  this  cafe  ;  that  the  veffel  was  taken  on  her  voyage  by  a  Britifb 
cruiftr,  and  fent  for  trial  to  Newfoundland,  where  the  cargo  was  condemned 
by  the  court  of  vice  admiralty  ;  and  that  the  caufe  was  carried  thence,  by  ap- 
peal, to  Great  Britain,  where  it  was  apprehended  that  the  fentcnce  belovr 
would  not  be  reverfed. 

The  ground  of  this  fentencc  was,  and  that  of  its  confirmation,  if  fuch  be 
the  refult,  muft  be,  that  the  trade  in  which  the  vefifel  was  engaged  was  un- 
lawful, and  this  unlawfalnefs  muft  reft>  firft,  on  the  general  principle  aflfumed 
by  Great  Britain,  that  a  trade  from  a  colony  to  its  parent  country,  being  n 
trade  not  permitted  to  other  nations  in  time  of  peace,cannot  be  made  lawful 
to  them  in  time  of  war  ;  fecondly,  on  the  allegation  that  the  continuity  of 
the  voyage  from  the  Havana  to  Barcelona  was  not  broken  by  landing  the  car- 
go in  the  United  States,  paying  the  duties  thereon,  and  thus  fulfilling  the  le- 
gal pre-requifites  to  a  home  covifumption  ;  and,  therefore,  that  the  cargo 
was  fubjedt  to  condemnation,  even  under  the  Britifh  regulation  of  January, 
1798,  which  fofar  relaxes  the  general  principle  as  to  allow  a  dired  trade  be- 
tween a  belligerent  colony,  and  a  neutral  country  carrying  on  fuch  a  trade. 

With  refpedt  to  the  genl:ral  principle  which  difailows  to  neutral  nations,  io 
time  of  war,  a  trade  not  allowed  to  them  in  time  of  peace,  it  may  be  obfer- 
vcd, 

Firft,  That  the  principle  is  of  modem  date  ;  that  it  is  maintained,  as  19 
believed,  by  no  other  nation  but  GreatBritain  ;  and  that  it  wasaflTumed  by  her 
under  the  aufpices  of  a  maritime  afcendency,  which  rendered  iuch  a  principle 
fqbfervient  to  her  particular  intereft.  The  hiftory  of  her  regulations  on  thit 
fubjed  (hews,  that  they  have  been  conftantly  modified  under  the  influence  of 
that  confideration.  The  courfe  of  thefe  modifications  wiH  be  feen  m  an  ap- 
pendix to  the  fourth  volume  of  Robinfon's  Admiralty  Reports. 

Secondly*  That  the  principle  is  manifeftly  contrary  to  the  general  intereft  of 
commercial  nations,  as  well  as  to  the  law  of  nations  fettled  by  the  moft  ap- 
proved authorities*  which  recognizes  no  reftraints  on  the  ttade  of  nations  not 
at  war,  with  oatioiM  at  Wir,  other  ttor  that  it  0»aU  be  impartial  between  the 


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i6  American  state  fAl»tAs^ 

latter,  that  it  ftiall  not  extend  to  certain  military  articles,  ilor  to  tktrwlp^ 
tation  of  perfons  in  military  ferTicc,  nor  to  places  actually  blockaded  vk- 

Thirdly,  That  the  principle  is  the  more_contmry  to  rcafon  and  to  ri^Jt 
inafmuch  as  the  admiffion  of  neutrals  into  a  colonial  trade,  (hut  againft  tin 
in  time  of  peace,  may,  and  often  does,  rtfult  from  confideraliorts  which  opei 
to  neutrals  dirc<5t  channels  of  trade  with  the  parent  ftate,  fhat  to  then  s 
times  of  peace,  the  legality  of  which  latter  relaxation  is  not  known  to  b: 
been  contefled  ;  and  inafmuch  as  a  commerce  may  be,  and  frcqcOTtlr^ 
opened  in  time  of  war,  between  a  colony  and  other  countries,  from  confide- 
ations  which  are  not  incident  to  the  war,  and  which  would  produce  tbcfe 
rffcd  in  a  time  of  peace  ;  fuch,  for  example,  as  a  failore^  or  diminutics!  s 
the  ordinary  fourccs  of  necefTary  (upplies^  or  ricw  turns  io  the  Gouifc  rfp 
fitable  interchanges. 

I^ourthly,  That  it  is  not  only  contrary  to  the  principles  and  pradicf  d 
other  nations,  but  to  the  pradice  of  Great-Britain  herfelf.  It  is  well  bws 
to  be  her  invariable  practice  in  time  of  war,  by  relaxatiorrs  in  haiaypi^ 
laws,  to  admit  neutrals  to  trade  in  channels  forbidden  to  them  in  tiflses  ^ 
peace  ;  and  particularly  to  open  her  colonial  trade  both  to  neutral  feficlii&5 
fupplies,  to  which  it  is  fliut  in  tinges  of  peace  }  and  that  one  at  lead  oiis 
objeds  in  thefe  relaxations,  h  to  give  to  her  trade  an  immunity  froncaptfini 
to  which  in  her  own  hands  it  would  be  fubjedtcd  by  the  war. 

Fifthly,  The  pradice  which  has  prevailed  in  the  Britifli  doroiiious,  fe:- 
tioned  by  orders  of  council  and  an  ad  of  parliament^  [39  G.  3.  c.  98.]  apthffl' 
izing  for  Britifli  fubjcds  a  dired  trade  with  the  enemy,  (till  fuFther  dimtsHbd 
the  force  of  her  pretentions  for  depriving  us  of  the  colonial  trade.  Tl«s*« 
fee  in  Robinfon's  Admiralty  Reports  pallim,  that  during  the  lad  war  x  to 
ed  commercial  intercourfe  prevailed  between  Great-Britain  and  bcretjcmk^ 
France,  Spain  anti  Holland,  becaufe  it  comprehended  articles  necdTary  forber 
manufadures  and  agriculture  ;  notwithftanding  the  e/Ted  it  had  in  opcmi^* 
t-ent  to  the  furplus  produdions  of  the  others.  In  this  manner  flica&BWp 
fufpend  the  war  itfelf,  as  to  particular  objcds  of  trade  beneficial  to  heriHr  • 
whilft  flic  denies  the  right  of  the  other  belligerents  to  fufpeod  their  accofefi- 
ed  commercial  reftridions,  in  favour  of  neutrals.  But  the  injulticc  and  inc* 
[iftency  of  her  attempt  to  prefs  a  ftrid  rule  on  neutrals,  is  more  forcibly  <i^ 
played  by  the  nature  of  the  trade  which  is  openly  carried  on  between  tfcco 
Ionics  of  Great-Britain  and  Spain  in  the  Weft-Indies.  The  mode  of  it  i»  <j^ 
tailed  in  the  inclofed  copy  of  a  letter  from  f  wherein  ^  "^  .^^ 

fcen  that  the  American  veflTels  and  cargoes,  after  being  condemned  fa  BritiA 
courts,  under  pretence  of  illicit  commerce,  are  fent,  on  Britifh  accoilot,tothc 
enemies  of  Great-Britain,  if  not  to  the  very  port  of  the  deftinatioo  interrapted 
when  they  were  American  property.  What  rcfped  can  be  ctoffled  M 
others  to  a  dodrine  not  only  of  fo  recent  an  origin,  ai>d  enforced  whhfe I** 
uniformity ,but  which  is  foconfpicuoufly  difregarded  in  pradice  by  the  MW* 
itfelf,  which  ftands  alone  in  contending  for  it  ?  .. 

Sixthly,  It  is  particulariy  worthy  of  attention,  that  the  board  of  coisaj^ 
fioncrs  jointly  conftituted  by  the  Britifli  and  American  governments,  ua*f 
the  7th  article  of  the  treaty  of  1 794,  by  rcverfing  coridemnatioos  oftkcB^ 
courts  founded  on  the  Britilh  inftrudions  of  November,  1793,  condenaw 
the  principle,  that  a  trade  forbidden  to  neutrals  in  time  of  peace,  could  m<^ 
opened  to  them  in  time  of  war ;  on  which  precife  principle  thefe  "'^"'JS 
were  founded.  And  as  the  revcrfal  couid  bejuftified  by  no  olbcrai**"'"^ 
than  the  law  of  nations,  by  which  they  were  guided,  the  law  o^n*^'*!^^^ 
ding  to  that  joint  tribunal,condemns  the  principle  iierc  combatted.  ^"'^^ 
the  Britifli  commiflioners  concurred  in  thefe  rererfals,  docs  not  W]Jv?* 
whether  they  did  or  did  not,  the  dccifion  was  eaually  binding ;  «***J 
precedent  which  could  not  be  difrefpedcd  by  a  like  fucceedingtrib«w>  ^ 
without  great  weight  with  beCll  Jiatioo^ia  JiJk  —*—■** 
them. 


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AMERICAN  STAT^   ^APfeitS,  If 

On  thcfe  ground«j  the  United  States  may  jnrtly  regard  the  Britirti  capture* 
«nd  condemnations  of  neutral  trade  with  col  onic-j  of  the  enemies  of  Great 
^ntain,  as  violations  of  right ;  and  if  reafon,  confiftency,  or  that  found  policy 
which  cannot  be  at  variance  viritU  cither,  hie  allowed  the  weight  which  the/ 
©ught  to  have,  the  Britifh  government  will  feel  fufficicnt  motives  to  repair  the! 
Wrongs  done  in  fuch  cafes  by  its  cruizers  and  courts. 

But,  apart  from  this  general  view  of  the  fubje(5t,  a  refufal  to  indemnify  the 
fuffcrers,  in  the  particular  cafe  of  the  Aurora,  is  dcllitute  of  every  pretext  i 
iSccaufe,  in  the  fecond  place,  the  continuity  of  her  voyage  was  clearly  and  pal- 
pably broken,  and  the  trade  converted  into  a  new  charader^ 

It  has  been  already  noted  that  the  Britifh  regulation  of  1798,  admits  a  di- 
rect trade  in  time  of  war,  between  a  belligerent  colony  and  a  neutral  country 
carrying  ©n  the  trade  ;  and  admits  confequently  the  legality  of  the  importa- 
tion by  the  Aurora,  from  the  Havana  to  Charlcfton.  Nor  ha«  it  ever  been 
pretended  that  a  neutral  nation  has  not  a  right  to  re-export  to  any  belligerent 
country  whatever  foreign  produtflions,  not  contraband  of  war,  which  may* 
have  been  duly  incorporated  and  naturaliied,as  a  part  of  the  commercial  ftock 
of  the  country  re-exporting  it. 

The  qucftion  then  to  be  decided  Under  th«  Britifh  regulation  itfclf,  i8# 
whether  in  landing  the  cargo,  paying  the  duties,  and  thus  as  effecflually  qual- 
ifying the  articles  for  the  legal  ConuimptJon  of  the  country,  as  if  they  had 
been  its  native  produ<flions,  they  were  not  at  the  fame  time  equally  qualified 
with  native  produ»5lions,for  exportation  to  a  foreign  market.  That  fuch  ought 
to  be  the  decifion,  refults  irrefiflibly  from  the  following  confidcrations  : 

1.  From  the  refpeft  which  is  due  to  the  internal  regulations  of  every  country^ 
where  they  cannot  be  charged  with  a  temporizing  partiality  towards  parti- 
cular belligerent  parties*  or  with  fraudulent  views  towards  all  of  them.  The 
regulations  of  the  United  States,  on  this  fubjedt,mufl  be  free  from  every  pofli- 
ble  imputation  ;  being  not  only  fair  in  their  appearance, but  j lift  in  their  pnn- 
ciples,and  having  continued  the  fame  during  tne  periods  of  war,  as  they  were 
in  thofe  of  peace.  It  may  be  added,  that  they  probably  correfpond,  in  every 
cfTential  feature  relating  to  re-exportations,  with  the  laws  of  other  commer- 
cial countries,  and  particularly  with  thofe  of  Great-Britain.  The  annexed 
outline  of  them,  by  the  fecretstry  of  the  treafury,  will  at  once  explain  their  cha- 
ra<5ler,  and  fhow  that,  in  the  cafe  of  the  Aurora,  every  legal  rcquifite  was  duly 
complied  with. 

2.  From  the  impofRbility  of  fubftituting  any  other  admiffible  Criterion, 
than  that  of  landing  the  articles,  and  otherwife  qualifying  them  for  the  ufe  of 
the  country.  If  this  regular  and  cuflomary  proceeding,  be  not  a  barrier* 
againft  fuirther  inquiries,  where,  it  may  be  afked,  are  the  inquiries  to  flop  ? 
By  what  evidence  are  particular  articles  to  be  identified  on  the  high  feas,  or 
before  a  foreign  tribunal  ?  If  identified,  how  is  it  to  be  afcertained  whether* 
they  were  imported  with  a  view  to  the  market  a\  home,  or  to  a  foreign  mar- 
ket, or,  as  ought  always  to  be  prefumed,  to  the  one  or  the  other,  as  it  fhould 
happen  to  invite  ?  or  if  to  a  foreign  market,  whether  to  one  forbidden  or  pcr- 
rrtitted  by  the  Britifh  regulations  ?  for  it  is  to  be  recollected  that  among  the 
irtodifications  which  her  policy  has  given  to  the  general  principle  afTerted  by 
her,  a  diredt  trade  Is  permitted  to  a  neutral  carrier  from  a  belligerent  colony, 
to  her  ports,  as  well  as  to  thofe  of  his  own  country.  If,  again,  the  landing  of 
t!ic  goods  and  the  payment  of  the  duties  be  not  fufficient  to  break  the  contin- 
uity of  the  voyage,  wnat,  it  may  be  afked,  is  the  degree  of  rnternal  change 
or  alienation  which  wifl  have  that  efre(5t  ?  May  not  a  Cla'im  be  fct  up  to 
trace  the  articles  from  hand  to  hand,  from  fhip  to  fhip,  in  the  fame  pfort,and 
even  from  one  port  to  another  port,  as  long  as  they  remain  in  the  coimtry  ? 
In  a  word,  in  departing  from  the  fimple  criterion  provided  by  the  country  it- 
felf,  for  its  own  legitimate  and  permanent  objcdts,  it  is  obvious,  that  befidea 
the  defalcations  which  might  be  committed  on  our  carrying  trade,  pretexts 
will  be  given  to  cnu'fers  for  endlefs  vexations  on  oar.  commerce  at  large,  and 

Vol.  III.  Appendix,         C 


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18  AMtRlCAJf   STATE   PAPERS. 

that  a  latitude  and  delays  v'^l  accrue  in  the  diftant  procectfings  of  admiralty 
courts,  ftill  more  ruinous  and  intolerable. 

3.  From  the  decifion  iu  the  Britiflj  high  court  of  admiralty  itfclf,  giren  in 
the  cafe  of  the  Polly,  Lafky,  mart cr,  by  a  judge  defcrvedly  celebrated  for  a 
profound  judgment,  which  cannot  be  fufpe<5led  of  lemming  towards  dofirincs 
UQJufl  or  injurious  to  the  rights  of  his  own  country.  On  that  occafion  he  cx- 
prefsly  declares  ;  "  It  is  not  my  bufmefs  to  fay  what  is  univerfally  the  teft  of 
a.  bona  fide  importation  :  it  is  argued  that  it  would  be  fliificicnt  that  the  du- 
ties fliould  be  paid,  and  that  the  cargo  fhould  be  landed.  If  thefe  criteria  arc 
not  to  be  refortcd  to,  I  fhotjld  be  at  a  lof«  to  know  what  fhould  be  the  teft; 
and  I  am  ftrongly  difpofcd  to  hold,  that  it  would  bcfufficient  that  the  goods 
ihould  be  landed  and  the  duties  paid."     2  Rob.  Reports,  p.  368 — 9. 

The  prelident  has  thought  it  proper  that  you  Ihould  be  forniflicd  with  fuch 
a  view  of  the  fubjec^  as  is  here  Iketched  ;  that  you  may  make  the  ufe  of  it  bed 
fuited  to  the  occafion.  If  the  trial  of  the  Auroia  (hould  not  be  ovcr,it  is  quef- 
tionable  whether  the  government  will  interfere  with  its  courts.  Should  the 
trial  be  over,  and  the  ientence  of  the  vice  admiralty  court  at  St.  John's  have 
been  confirmed,  you  arc  to  lofe  no  time  iu  prcfcnting  to  the  Britifh  goyeni- 
ment  a  reprefentation  corrtfpondin^'  with  the  fcope  of  thefe  obfcrvalions ;  and 
in  urging  that  redrefs  in  the  cafe,  which  is  equally  due  to  private  juflice,  to 
the  reafonable  expeftations  of  the  United  States,  and  to  that  confidence  aoi 
harmony^  which  ou^ht  to  be  cheriflied  between  the  two  nations." 


LETTER     FROM    MR.    GORB   TO     MR.   MADISOK. 

Bopon^  November  iS,  ll^o^r 

Sir — THE  (hippndqs,  David  Myrick,  mafter,  was  taken  by  his  Britannic!: 
majefty's  4lvip  the  Cambrian,  captain  John  P.  Bcresford,  in  latitude  31. 30» 
north,  and  longritude  61.  56.  weft,  and  fcnt  to  Halifax,  where  fhe,  and  all  the 
property  on  board,  belonging  to  the  owners,  mafter,  and  fupercargo,  were 
condemnedj'on  the  ground,  as  is  laid,  of  the  illegality  of  the  trade  which  ihc 
was  profecuting  at  the  time  of  the  capture.  An  appeal  has  been  claim- 
ed, and  will  be  duly  profecutcd,  before  the  lords  commiflioners  of  appeal,  iff 
Great  Britain,  by  the  infurers,  to^hom  the  faid  (hip  .ind  cargo  have  bcca 
abandoned.  Thefe  infurers  confift  of  four  companies,  in  the  town  of  Bofton, 
incorporated  under  the  names  of  the  Maflachufcits  Fire  and  Marine  Infur* 
anc?,  the  Su8<)lk  Infiirance,  the  Bofton  Marine  Inftirancc,  and  the  New  Eng- 
land Infurancc,  who  are  not  only  intcrcfted  in  the  above  decifion,  as  it  relate* 
to  the  particular  cafe  in  which  it  was  rendered,  but  arc  deeply  concerned  on 
account  of  infurances  made  by  them  on  veflcls  and  cargoes  that  may  be  em- 
braced, as  they  fear,  by  rules  and  principles  faid  to  have  been  adopted  in  tb* 
cafe  of  the  Indus.  Thefe  fears  derive  but  too  much  weight  from  dccifions 
that  have  taken  place  in  London,  condemning  property  for  being  io  a  com- 
merce always  by  them  underftood  to  be  lawful,  not  only  from  their  owb 
fenfe  of  Ihc  law  of  nations,  but  alfb  from  the  afltnt  of  Great  Britain,  dif- 
covered  by  her  former  pradiccy  and  by  principles  advanced  by  her  judges  ii> 
fiipport  ot  fuch  decrees. 

,  The  amount  of  property  withheld,  and  ultimately  depending  on  the  dcci- 
fions of  the  high  court  of  appeals,  in  the  cafe  of  the  Indus,  is  fufficient,  of  •'^ 
fclf,  to  demand  their  ferious  attention  ;  but  when  combined  with  the  cfle» 
of  principles^  fuppofcd  to  have  been  applied  in  this  inftance,  they  are  appi*-, 
henfive  of  further  and  ftill  greater  injuries  to  their  own  property,  and  that  of 
their  fellow  citizens,  in  this  quarter  of  the  country  ;  and  thefe  loflesi  ftonja 
they  be  realized,  would  be  encountered  in  the  profecution  of  a  trade,  »» 
which  they  fdt  themielves  as  uaoflfcDding  againft  the    rights  of  othcn*H4i 


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AMERICAN  5TATE  PAPERS.  If 

|ccare  (ronti  the  interruption  of  the  power  that  now  moleils  them,  as  in  coaft- 
ii\g  voyages  between  difTerent  parts  of  the  United  States. 

They  hope,  therefore,  not  to  be  thought  intrufive  in  niking  of  the  govern- 
_incnt  its  interference,  through  their  miniftcr  at  the  court  of  London,  or 
othcrwife,  as  the  preftdcnt,  in  his  wifdom,  may  judge  proper,  to  protect  their 
commercial  rights,  and  to  obtain  redrtfs  of  the  particular  injuiy  of  which 
they  complain.  They  have  even  felt  it  a  duty,  due  from  them  to  the  govern- 
ment of  their  country,  to  apprize  thofe  entrul^ed  with  the  adminiftration  of 
its  concerns,  of  events,  fo  injurious  in  thcmfelves,  ar-i  pregnant  with  confe- 
quenccs  fo  momentous  to  their  individual  property  and  the  general  profperity 
of  the  country.  Such  rtfledions  have  influenced  thtfe  feveral  companies  to 
rcqucft  me  to  prefcnt  you  a  ftatement  of  the  cafe  of  the  Indus,  for  the  in- 
,fpe«5tion  of  the  government,  and  the  purpofes  above  alluded  to  ;  and  alfo  to 
fubjoin  fomc  of  the  rcafons  which  have  occafioned  the  fccurity  with  which 
they  have  hazarded  tlieir  property  on  voyages  now  pretended  to  be  unlaw- 
ful. 

In  the  fammer  of  1804,  Meflrs.  David  Sears  and  Jonathan  Chapman,  na- 
,tlvc  citizens  of  the  United  States,  and  refidents  in  Bofton,  owned  a  Ihip  calt- 
.cd  the  lndus,which  they  fitted  out  for  a  voyage  to  India.  They  put  on  boar^ 
.her  63,640  dollars  and  three  fets  of  exchange,  drawn  by  themfelvcs  on 
MefTrs.  John  Hodfhon  and  fon,  of  Amflerdam,  at  ninety  days  fight,  for  twen- 
tv-five  thoufand  three  hundred  guilders,  which  amount  of  fpecie  and  bills 
they  confided  to  Abi/hai  Barnard,  a  native  citizen  of  the  United  States,  and 
fupercargo.  This  fhip  and  property,  altogether  owned  by  themfelves,  thejr 
difpatched  with  orders  to  go  to  the  ifles  of  France  and  Bourbon,  and,  if  able, 
to  purchafe  a  cargo  there,  fo  to  invert  the  fpecie  and  bills  ;  if  not,  to  pro- 
ceed to  Batavia,  for  the  fame  purpofe  ;  if  not  pra(5licablc  there,  to  go  on  to 
Calcutta,  and  obtain  a  cargo  ;  with  whi<ih  cargo,  whenever  procured,  the 
faid  fhip  was  direded  to  return  to  Bofton,  unlefs,  before  the  veflcl  fhould 
quit  the  ifle  of  France,  or  Batavia,  a  peace  (liould  take  place  in  Europe,  in 
which  event,  flie  was  ordered  to  proceed  to  Falmouth  in  England,  and  con- 
form herfcif  to  the  orders  of  her  owners'  correfpondcnts  in  London.  All  the 
.  papers  on  board  ftiewed  thefe  fadts  ;  and  fuch,  and  fuch  only,  was  the  pro- 
perty and  deftination  of  the  veflcl  and  her  lading.  In  a  memorandum  re- 
flating to  the  purchafe  of  the  cargo,  given  to  the  fupercargo,  he  was  remind- 
ed not  to  forget  to  infert  in  the  manifeft,  after  the  arrival  of  the  veflel  in 
the  tide  waters  of  Bofton,  the  words  "  and  Embden,"  viz.  from  the  ifle  of 
France,  or  Batavia,  to  Bofton  **  and  Embden,"  as  this  would  not  deprive  the 
owners  of  the  privilege  of  unloading  wholly  in  Bofton.  The  obje^  of  thii 
requeft  was,  in  cafe  of  peace,  to  avoid  an  expenfe  and  hiconveniencc  whict 
Mr.  Sears,  the  principal  owner  of  this  (hip  and  cargo,  fufl^cred  at  the  la^ 
peace,  viz.  the  unloadmg  of  the  entire  cargo  of  a  veflel  called  the  Arab,  from 
India,  in  the  port  of  Bofton,  which,  under  the  then  txifting  circumftances, 
viz.  a  ftate  of  peace,  he  inclined  to  fend  immediately  to  Europe,  but  which 
he  would  not  have  contemplated,  had  not  peace  have  taken  place,  and  which 
he  did  not  anticipate  when  the  veflel  failed  from  Bofton,  as  he  did  not  fore- 
fee  a  termination  of  the  war  ;  fuch  being  the  conftruftion  put,  by  the  col- 
Iciflor  of  the  port  of  Bofton  and  Charlcftbwn,  on  the  laws  in  force,  when  the 
vcflTel  referred  to  arrived,  and  when  the  Indus  failed  in  1804.  The  expenfe 
of  unloading  and  reloading  this  veflel  would  have  amounted  to  feveral  thou- 
fand dollars  :  and  in  cafe  of  the  law  being  at  her  arrival  as  when  flie  (ailed, 
and  of  a  peace  in  Europe,  and  the  owners  fending  her  there,  (in  which  event 
alone  did  they  ever  entertain  the  leaft  intention  of  not  clofirig  the  voyage  i)a 
America)  this  expenfe  might  have  been  favcd. 

With  this  property,  and  under  thefe  inftruAions,  the  Indus  proceeded  on 
her  voyage  to  the  ifle  of  France  ;  not  being  able  to  procure  a  cargo  there, 
flie  went  to  Batavia,  where  fhe  loaded  with  the  proceeds  of  her  fpecie,  and 
one  ict  of  her  bills.    In  the  profecution  of  her  voyage  from  Batavia  to  Bof- 


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20  AMERICAN  STATE   PAPERS. 

ton,  the  fhip  was  fo  damaged  by  ftorms,  that  flie  was  obliged  to  put  into 
the  iflc  of  France,  where  the  vcffcl  was  condemned  as  no  longer  fca-worthy ; 
the  cargo  was  taken  out ;  a  new  velTel  pyrchafed  by  the  fupercargo,  whicti 
he  named  the  Indus,  and  fuch  of  the  articles  as  were  on  board  the  former 
Indus,  and  not  damaged,  were  re  (hipped  in  the  new  Indus  ;  theie  articles, 
together  with  fomc  tea,  taken  on  freight  for  certain  citizens  of  Bofton,  there 
to  be  landed,  comp«fcd  her  entire  cargo.  With  this  property  the  was  within 
a  few  days  fail  of  her  deilined  port  of  Bofton,  in  the  latitude  and  longitude 
aforcfaid,  when  (he  was  captured  by  the  Cambrian,  fent  to  Halifax  and  con- 
fiemned,  as  before  mentioned. 

The  a/Tumed  ground  of  condemnation  was,  as  the  underwriters  are  in- 
formed, that  the  dire<^tion  to  infert  the  words  "  and  Embden"  after  the  ar- 
rival  of  the  yeflel  in  the  port  of  Boflon,  difclofed  an  intention  in  the  owncn 
to  continue  the  yoyage  to  Europe,  whereas  the  only  objeift  was  to  rcCcrve  to 
thcmfelves  the  right  to  obviate  any  objedion,  from  the  cuftom  houfc  here, 
^o  her  proceeding  thither,  in  the  /event  of  a  peace  between  the  prefcnt  bd- 
Jigerents. 

This  is  manifeft  from  the  tcftimonv  of  thf  owners,  and  Is  conprmed  by 
their  inftru(flions  to  the  condu<5tors  o\  this  voyage,  as  to  its  deltination,  in 
cafe  of  a  peace  before  they  quitted  India.  On  this  contingency  only  were 
they  to  proceed  otherwifc  than  to  Bodon.  The  rcafon  which  Mr.  Sears  dl- 
rcdtcd  th^  words  **  and  l^mbden"  to  be  inferted,  is  obvious  from  what  he 
fuffered  in  the  cafe  of  the  Arab,  as  related  by  himfelf  and  the  coUc^or  of  thf 
cuftoms  ;  and  that  it  was  only  in  the  pvent  of  peace,  that  he  contemplated 
fending  to  JEurope  the  vefTel  and  car^o  to  which  his  memorandum  referred, 
is  confirmed  Jjy  his  former  pradice  and  courfe  of  trade,  viz.  during  the  \^t 
ten  years  he  has  been  engaged  in  voyages  to  India,  and  likewife  in  (hipping 
the  produce  of  the  ^aft  and  Weft  Indie?  to  Europe,  and  in  no  cafe,  during 
^he  cxiftenpc  of  war,  has  he  fent  to  Europe,  articles  imported  by  himfdf,  Id 
^he  fame  veflel  in  which  they  were  brought  from  India.  Further,  in  the  cafe 
of  the  (hip  Lydia,  which  arrived  fi-om  India  at  Bofton,  in  the  fummer  of  1^04, 
and  on  board  which  velTel  there  was  the  like  inftriidion  as  in  the  Indus,  which 
jnftru(5lion  was  p omplied  with  by  the  mafter,  yet,  as  the  war  continued,  on 
her  arrival  at  Bofton,  he  fold  the  whole  cargo  to  a  merchant  of  tliistoffn; 
and  ^Ifo  th^t  of  the  Indus,  in  the  voyage  preceding  the  one  in  which  (hewai 
loft,  wherein  the  like  precaution  was  alfo  taken,  and  for  the  like  purpofe, 
but  as  it  was  war  when  (he  arpved,  the  voyage  terminated  here.  Thus,  fut 
\n  this  cafe  there  exifts  the  moft  plenary  evidence,  that  the  voyage 
vhich  the  Indus  was  performing^  when  captured,  was  dired  fi^om  Bi- 
^avia  to  I}ofton,  there  to  terminate.  A  ^"^'"^^^  I^'^^^^Jy  ^^g^^  "^^  op'y '" 
the  underftanding  of  the  owners,  but  fo  ackno^vledged,  admitted,and  declartd 
by  Great  Britain,  in  her  pra(51ice,  for  ten  years  paft,  in  her  inftru^lons  w 
her  cruifcrs,  In  the  decrees  of  her  courts,  and  in  the  rules  and  principles  ad* 
yanced  by  her  judges  in  promulgating  their  decrees. 

Tlje  principle  underftood  to  be  affumcd  by  Great  Britain  is,  that  in  (line  of 
war  ^  trade,  earned  on  between  two  independent  naiions,one  neutral  and  the 
other  belligerent,  Ij»  unlawful  In  the  neutral,  if  the  fame  trade  was  not  allow* 
ed  and  praj^ifed  ip  time  of  peace.  This  principle,  though  afTumed  by  Great 
Britain,  is  how,  and  always  has  been,  refifted'as  unfound,  by  every  other  na- 
tion. She  always  afflimes  as  a  fadt,  that  the  trade  with  a  colony  has  afw^fs 
been  confined  excllifively  to  (hips  of  the  parent  country.  In  virtnc,  there* 
fore,  of  this  afTumptfon  of  principle  and  fadt,  fhc  deems  unlawfiil  and  derog«' 
tory  to  her  rights,  the  trade  of  a  neutral  with  the  colonies  of  her  enemie^ 
However,  in  the  l^ft  war  (he  fo  far  modified  her  principle,  as  to  affent  to  the 
jawfulnc-fs  of  the  voyage  of  a  neutral,  if  diredt  between  the  ports  of  the  neu- 
tral and  the  colony  of  the  enemy  ;  and  alfo  a  trade  in  fuch  colonial  article^ 
from  the  country  of  the  neutral  to  any  other  country,  even  to  the  pai^J^ 
*  country  of  ibch  colony,providcd  fuch  articles  were  imported,  bona6de,fbrtfre 
p(e  pf  the  neutral,  and  t^^erc  purch^fcd,  or  afterwards  (hipped  by  hinif<^^^  •  ^^ 


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AMERICAN   STATE   PAPERS.  31 

alfo  in  articles  the  produce  of  the  parent  kingdom,  from  the  neutral  (late  to 
the  colony  of  that  metropolitan  kingdom,  provided  the  exporting  and  import- 
ing were,  bona  fide,  as  in  the  other  cafe.  But  this  modification  (he  always 
afte<5tcd  to  confider  as  relaxation  of  her  ftri^  rights,  and  from  this  confidcra- 
tion  aflumed  greater  authorities  to  interfere  with  the  permitted  trade,  as  Ibc 
would  fay,  of  neutrals. 

The  underwriters  have  therefore  thought  it  important  to  examine  how  far 
the  do^rine  is  fan^ioned  by  the  law  of  nations,  and  the  grounds,  on  which  it 
is  fuppofcd  to  reft,  are  conformed  to,  or  coBtravencd,  by  the  pra^ice  of  the 
belligerents  themfelves. 

This  principle  was  firft  brought  forward  in  the  war  of  1756,  and  was  then 
attempted  to  be  fupported  on  the  dodrines  advanced  by  Bynkerlhoop.  Yon, 
fir,  to  whom  the  writings  of  this  eminent  civilian  are  doubilefs  familiar,  miift 
be  aware  that  the  rule  laid  down  by  him,  is  brought  forward  to  a  very  diffe- 
rent purpofe,  and  from  the  manner  in  which  he  treats  on  the  rights  of  neu- 
trals, and  the  hiftorical  fa<5t  quoted  from  Livy,  to  illuHrate  and  landtion  the 
principle  aflertcd,  fhows  that  it  can  by  no  means  warrant  the  proceedings 
which  it  has  been  attempted  to  juftify  ;  and  that  there  is  no  analogy  between 
the  cafe  cited  and  that  of  the  mere  peaceable  trade  of  a  neutral  with  a  belli- 
gerent, in  articles  not  contraband  of  war,  nor  to  places  under  blockade. 

His  general  pofition  is,that  whatever  nations  had  the  power  and  faculty  to  do 
in  time  peace,  they  have  the  right  to  do  in  time  of  war  ;  except  that  they 
have  not  a  rieht  to  carry  to  either  of  two  enemies  articles  contraband  of  war,or 
to  trade  to  blockaded  places,becaufe  this  would  be  to  intermeddle  in  the  war. 

The  author  before  cited  is  the  principal,  if  not  the  only  one,whofe  opinions 
are  adduced,  as  capable  of  affording  fupport,  or  in  any  way  bearing  upon  this 
do^rine.  An  authority,  however,  to  interrupt  the  trade  of  a  neutral  in  war, 
which  he  was  not  free  to  carry  on  in  peace,  is  affumed  as  a  legitimate  conie- 
quence  of  his  acknowledged  rights,  f  he  law  of  nations  not  only  prefcribes 
rules  for  the  conduift,  and  fupports  the  rights  of  nations  at  war,  but  alfo  con- 
tains regulations  and  principles  by  which  the  rights  of  fuch  as  remain  at  peac^ 
are  proteifted  and  defined. 

The  intercom fe  between  independent  nations  muft  exdufively  reft  on  the 
laws  which  fuch  nations  may  choofe  to  eftablifli.  This  is  a  natural  confe- 
quence  of  th^  equality  and  independence  of  nations.  Each  may  make  fuch 
commercial  and  other  internal  regulations  as  it  thinks  proper.  It  may  open 
its  whole  trade  to  all  foreign  nations,  or  admit  them  only  to  a  part  ;  it  may 
indulge  one  nation  in  fuch  a  commerce  and  not  others ;  it  may  admit  them 
at  one  time  and  refufe  them  at  another  ;  it  may  reftri^  its  trade  to  certain 
parts  of  its  dominions  and  refufe  the  entrance  of  flrangcrs  into  others.  In  this 
refped:  it  has  a  right  to  confult  only  its  own  convenience,  and  whatever  it  fhall 
choofe  to  admit  to  others,may  be  enjoyed  by  them  without  confulting  a  thir^l 
power.  GFeat  Britain  aifts  upon  this  principle  :  at  one  time  (he  executes  her 
.  navigation  law  with  ftri<5tnefs  ;  at  other  times  (lie  relaxes  moll  of  its  regular 
tions,  according  to  the  eftimate  (he  forms  of  advantage  or  diliidvanlage  to  be 
derived  from  its  execution  or  relaxation  :  neither  does  (he  allow  the  compe- 
tence of  any  foreign  power  to  call  in  queflion  her  right  fo  to  do.  In  time  of 
peace  (he  compels  a  ftri^  adherence  to  the  principles  and  letter  of  her  navi- 
gation adt  :  in  time  of  war  (lie  fufpends  mofi  of  its  provifions,  and  to  this  (he 
18  doubtlefs  induced  by  paramoqnt  intereft  of  manning  her  navy ;  whereby  (he 
is  enabled  to  employ  a  much  greater  number  of  feameri  in  her  own  defence,and 
to  deftroy  the  commerce  of  her  foes. 

In  confequence  of  a  fuperiority  derived,  in  fome  dcgree,from  this. relaxation, 
England  is  rendered  an  entrepot  for  receiving  and  fnpplying  all  the  products  oX 
the  world  ;  and  after  reaping  a  confiderable  revenue  from  the  mcrchandife 
thus  introduced,  (he  furnifhes  not  only  the  continent  of  Europe  generally, 
but  her  own  enemy  with  fuch  articles  as  aie  wanted,  many  of  which  (he  pre- 
vents his  receiving  in  the  ordinary  courfe. 

•  Polly, taiky.  g.obinfon'iAdmiralty  Reports,  p.3(Si.  Emmanuel  Robinfon,  p.  186,  partlcuUrly ao j. 


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2*2  Al^ltmiCAK  STATE  rAP£lU. 

7*be  other  lutions  of  Europe,  pofleffing  foreign  colonies,  and  kiSuenced  ky 
BDotives  of  convenience,  certainly  not  by  con&de rations  of  a  higher  nature 
than  aduate  Great  Britain,  find  their  advantage  in  a  (imilar  change  of  their 
commctcial  fyftems. 

The  mere  circumftance,  that  the  innocent  property  of  a  neutral  ii  engaged 
In  a  trade  permitted  now,  though  prohibited  at  a  former  period,  is  in  itfclf 
perfectly  innocent,  and  does  not  feem  opable  of  interfering  with  the  rights  or 
juftifying  the  complaints  of  a  third  power. 

The  ordinary  {K>)icy  of  a  nation  may  be  to  encourage  the  manufadure  or 
^owth  of  a  certain  article  within  its  own  dominions,  and  for  this  end  may 
prohibit  or  reftrid  the  importation  of  the  like  articles  from  other  countrio. 
Does  the  repeal  or  fufpcniion  of  fiich  rcftri(flion  confer  any  right  to  impede 
the  tranfpoination,  by  a  third,  of  the  article,  the  prohibition  whereof  islui^ 
pended  ?  Becaufe  the  corn  laws  of  a  nation  operate  three  years  in  five,  ass 
prohibition  to  the  importation  of  all  cor»,  can  it  be  inferred  that  a  friendlr 
power  fljould  abftain  from  carrying  its  furplus  corn  to  market  ?  Hasanybci- 
ligercnt  a  right  to  ftop  the  corn  owned  by  neutral  merchants,on  the  way  loiti 
cnemv,  whofe  crops  have  failed  and  prohibitory  lawi  have  been  repealed .' 
The  Umple  ftate  of  the  cafe,  that  the  trade,  though  illegal  in  peace,  is  legal » 
war,  decides  the  queftion. 

Recourfe  is  therefore  had  to  another  principle,  in  order  to  render  that  un- 
lawful, which,  on  every  ground  of  the  equality  and  independence  of  oatioiK, 
is  lawful.  ^ 

The  belligerent  has  a  right  to  dillrefs  the  perfon  and  property  of  his  enemy 
and  thereby  compel  a  fubmilTion  to  his  demand,  and  for  this  purpoic, he  iDajf 
life  all  the  means  in  his  power. 

By  interrupting  the  trade  of  neutrals,  which  is  opened  to  them  in  war,  aai 
was  prohibited  in  peace,  the  belligerent  diftreflls  his  enemy,  leflTcns  hisr^ 
venue,  prevents  the  exercife  of  his  commercial  capital  and  the  employment 
of  his  nrcrchants,  and  deprives  him  of  the  enjoyment  of  thofe  articles,  whicli 
adminifter  to  his  comfort  and  convenience;  therefore  fuch  interruption  a 
lawfuU 

An  obvious  anfwer  to  this  reafonrng  is,  that  it  proves  too  much,  is  founded 
0n  a  principle  fo  comprchenfive  as  to  embrace  all  trade  between  neutrals  acd 
a  nation  at  war.  If  it  diftrefs  a  nation  to  interrupt  that  commerce,  which  has 
become  lawful  fince  the  war,  it  would  diftrcfs  him  much  more  to  cut  offa.1 
trade  ;  that  which  was  allowed  in  time  of  peace,  as  well  as  that  which  was 
not  ;  and  the  fame  reafon  which  is  ufcd  to  authorize  an  interruption  of  the 
pne,  would  as  well  juftify  the  other.  Indeed,  we  have  feveral  times feen  tbc 
like  doctrine  extended  this  length  in  the  heat  of  contcfl  ;  but  no  inftancclui 
occurred  of  an  attempt  to  vindicate  it  in  time  of  peace  :  for  the  legality  w^ 
Irade  in  innocent  articles,  to  a  place  not  blockaded,  and  the  right  of  tbcocu- 
tral  to  carry  it  on,  depends  entirely  on  the  laws  of  the  two  countries,  between 
which,  and  by  whofc  inhabitants  it  is  profecuted,  and  in  no  degree  o«  the  cob- 
fent  of  the  belligerent.  If  this  argument  of  diftrcf-J,  combined  with  thatrf 
an  unaccuflomed  trade,  ftiould  be  admitted  in  all  its  latitude,  no  trade  wija 
belligerents  would  be  legal  to  neutrals.  The  enemies  of  Great  Britain  wouJ 
DC  difpofed  to  attribute  much  weight  to  a  confideration  of  the  peculiar  ad- 
vantages, which  a  power  conftituted  as  her'i  may  be  fuppofed  to  deriTti  ^^ 
fuch  evils  as  (he  may  be  prefumcd  to  prevent,  by  the  relaxation  of  ^^^^^ 
(nercial  fyftem,  A  continental  power  may  derive  fome  accommodation,  and 
fome  convenience  from  relaxing  her  commercial  rcftri^ions  ;  but  nothing  e** 
ientral  to  her  fafety,  nothing,  as  was  dcmonftrated  in  the  laft  war,  matenal^ 
affVaing  the  great  objedts  of  the  conttft.  She  might  obuin  the  article*  w 
Eaft  and  Wea  India  produce  a  little  cheaper  by  thefe  means  than  if  compell- 
ed to  procure  them  by  her  own  (hips,  or  through  the  medium  of  her  enemy, 
for  it  is  a  circumftance  which  very  much  impairs  the  argument  of  diftreW 
the  focj  that  in  modern  wars  it  is  the  pradicc  of  commercial  natioDS,  ooltfilr 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


AHERIf  AS   STATE   PATERS.  J^ 

itandinj  tliey  rcfpeiflively  capture  each  other's  property,  to  open  their  ports 
for  the  exchange  of  thtir  mcrchandi/^,  by  the  aflillance  of  neutrals,  and  in 
this  way  afford  the  fuccour  they  mutually  need,  ft  will,  however,  be  faid 
that  it  is  not  the  trade  between  neutral  countries  and  the  metropolitan  domin- 
ions of  Europe  which  is  deemed  illegal,  but  the  trade  of  neutrals  with  their 
cotoiiies.  It  is  not  eafy  to  perceive  the  grounds  on  which  this  diftindlion  rcfts, 
but  without  complaining  of  an  exceptionable  rule,  bccaufe  the  practice  under 
it  is  not  as  extenfive  as  its  principle  might  be  fuppofcd  to  warrant,  it  may  be 
examined  in  the  cafe  to  which  it  is  applied. 

The  argument  of  diftrefling  the  enemy  is  adduced  to  vindicate  the  inter- 
ruption of  the  trade  of  neutrals  with  enemies'  colonies.  This  diftrefs  can  be 
inflidlcd  in  two  ways  ;  by  depriving  the  colony  of  the  neceffary  fupplies,  or 
the  parent  country  of  the  colony  produaions.  To  fupply  the  encmits'  colo- 
nies is  not  conlklered  legal,  provided  it  be  done  from  the  neutral  courftry  ; 
and  alfo  to  furnilh  the  parent  country  with  the  produce  of  the  colony,  provi- 
ded it  be  done  from  the  neutral  country.  The  argument,thereforc,of  diflref» 
is  narrowed  down  to  a  mere  trifle  ;  to  the  addition  of  a  fraaion  in  the  price 
of  the  Article  fupplied  to  the  parent  country  :  for,  fo  far  as  refpefts  the  fup- 
ply of  the  colony  and  the  finduig  a  market  for  its  produce,  and  the  arguments 
flowing  from  thence,  thtfe,  furely  the  moft  plaufible  on  the  fcore  of  mfliaing 
diftrefa,  arc  utterly  abandoned.  But  further,  the  fame  commercial  fpirit  which 
Kds  been  before  noticed,  leads  the  great  nations  of  Europe  themfelves  to  con- 
tribute to  thofe  very  fupplies,  the  depriving  the  enemy  whereof  is  alleged  as  a 
juflification  for  interrupting  the  trade  of  neutrals.  Not  only  a  trade  in  Eu- 
r<;pe,  but  a  regular  and  authorized  trade,  to  the  extent  of  every  neceflary  and 
almoft  every  other  fupply,  was  carried  on  during  the  laft  war  between  Ihc 
Britifh  and  Spanifh  colonics  :  and  inftances  have  again  and  again  occurred, 
and  before  the  clofc  of  the  late  war,  ccafed  to  be  confidered  as  extraordinary, 
where  the  cargoes  of  neutral  veflcls  bound  to  the  Spanilh  colonies  were  ftiz- 
cd  by  the  Britilh,  and  condemned  in  the  vkc-admiralty  courts,  on  pretence 
that  the  trade  was  illegal ;  and  the  articles  thus  (lopped  and  made  prize  of, 
under  the  plea  of  diftrefling  the  enemy,  were  (hipped  on  hoard  a  Spani(h  or 
Britifh  vefTcl,  fupplied  with  a  Briti(h  liccnfc,  and  fent  to  the  original  port  of 
their  detlination.  Surely,  fuch  a  mode  of  diflrelTmg  the  enemy  may  be  more 
properly  denominated  di(lre(Iing  the  neutral,  for  the  purpole  of  fupplying  the 
enemy  at  the  exclulive  profit  of  the  belligerent. 

Such,  fir,  are  fome  of  the  obfervatlons  which  thcfe  gentlemen  make  on  the 
difference  between  the  practice  and  avowed  principles  of  belligerent?,  and  the 
unavoidable  confequences  of  fuch  principles,  and  which  fatisfy  their  miods 
that,  according  to  the  pra^ice  of  belligerents  themfelves,  there  is  no  founda- 
tion for  the  argunnents  raifed  on  pretence  of  diftrefling  the  enemy,  and  that 
interrupting  a  trade  in  war,  becaufc  not  exerciied  in  peace,  is  inconfiftcnt  with 
the  equality  and  independence  of  nations,  and  an  infringement  of  their  pcr- 
feA  rights.  It  is  alfo  evident  that  the  wants  and  interefts  of  all  nations  at  war, 
even  of  thofe  who  pofTefs  the  moft  powerful  commercial  and  military  navy, 
require  them  to  contradi<ft  in  their  own  pra(5tice  thofe  principles  which  arc 
avowed  in  juflification  of  the  injuries  they  infl1(fl  on  neutrals. 

To  fupport  this  dodrinc  it  is  alio  ncceflary  to  afTume  as  tr«c,  that  all  tradfe 
and  intercourfo  between  the  colonies  of  the  different  European  powers,  and 
o^her  countries,  have  been  conftantly  and  uniformly  interdided  in  time  of 
peace,  and  that  fuch  colonics  depended  exclufivcly  on  the  metropolitan  king- 
dom for  fupplies  of  every  kind.  That  nothing  could  be  received  by  or  from 
them,  but  through  the  mother  country  ;  except  when  the  overpowering  force 
of  the  publick  enemy  had  prevented  all  fuch  communication.  This  ftippofed 
exclulive  trade  fo  confidently  afTumed,  will,  on  examination,  be  found  lubjedt 
to  many  exceptions.  It  Is  well  known  that  fome  of  th.e  Britifh  Weft  India 
colonies,  during  the  commotions,  which  exifled  in  England,  in  confequence 
of  the  dlfagreement  between  Chtflts  the  firft,  and  his  parhament^  exported* 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


d4  AHEftlCAK  Sl-Affc   PAt>fcR9. 

their  produce  to  Europe  by  Dutch  (hips,  manned  with  Dutch  fcamcn,  tnd 
that  the  navigation  ad  originated  in  the  double  view  of  punilhing  Lmt  of 
thefe  colonies,  who  had  difcovered  an  attachment  to  the  caufe  of  defeated 
royalty,  and  of  curtailing  the  means  enjoyed  by  the  Ddtch,  of  incrcafing  their 
wealth,  influence,  and  power.  An  intercourfe  has  always  been  admitted; 
at  fome  times  very  restrained  ;  at  others  more  extended,  as  fuited  the  ca* 
price  of  the  govemours,  or  as  the  neceflity  of  the  colonics  required. 

Until  a  period  fubfequent  to  the  treaty  of  Utrecht,  France  fecms  to  hvft 
paid  no  attention  to  her  Weft  India  colonies.  Previous  to  that  time,  they 
do  not  appear  to  have  enjoyed  any  conftant  correfpondence,  or  direct  inter- 
courfe with  the  mother  country  ;  and  at  all  times,  as  well  before,  as  fince 
the  independence  of  the  continental  colonics  of  Great  Britain,  a  dired  trade 
has  cxifted  between  the  colonies  of  France  and  thofc  of  Great  Britain  in  the 
Weft  Indies,  and  alfo  with  the  fettlemei.ts  on  the  continent  of  North  Amer' 
ica,  more  or  lels  limited,  as  real  or  pretended  convenience  demanded. 

Great  Britain,  prior  to  the  independence  of  the  United  States,  had  Wj 
occalion  to  admit  the  entry  of  veflels  and  merchandize  from,  or  the  export 
of  the  produce  of  her  colonies  to,  any  other  than  her  own  dominions ;  yet, 
inftances  are  not  wanting  of  the  relaxation  of  her  navigation  aft,  for  both 
purpofes  ;   and  in  the  year  1739,  a  bill  paffed  the  parliament,  allowing  the 
fugar  colonies,  for  a  limited  time,  to  export  their  produce  to  foreign  ports. 
In  fad,  colonies  depending  on  other  countries  for  their  fupplies,  and  at  a 
diftance  from  their  parent  country,  muft,  at  times,  admit  the  intercourfe  of 
foreigners,  or  fuffer  the  greatcft  impoverifhment  and  diftrcfs.    It  will  not  be 
denied,  that  the  Britifh  provinces  in  the  Weft  Indies  depend,  in  a  great  m«- 
fure,  if  not  altogether,  on  the  United  States  for  their  com.     True  it  isi 
that  the  fhipment  is  generally  made  in  Britifh  vefTels  ;  but  fhould  the  Uni- 
ted States  deem  it  for  their  intereft,  to  infift  on  its  being  tranfported  tbithcf 
in  American  (hips,  it  is  not  certain  that  the  convenience,  not  to  fay  the  D^ 
cefTitics  of  the  colonies,  would  not  render  an  acquiefcence  advifablc.    The 
fad  is,  in  regard  to  the  colonies  in  the  Weft  Indies,  whether  belonging  to 
France  or  Great  Britain,  tkat  the  monopoly  has  not  been,  and  in  the  nature 
of  things  never  can  be,  very  ftrid,  conftant,  and  exclufive.     The  United 
States  always  have  enjoyed,  and  without  hazarding  much  one  may  pronounce 
with  confidence,  that  they  always  muft  enjoy,  a  dired  intercourfe  with  their 
colonies,  however  adverfc  to  the  difpofitions  or  fuppofed  intereft  of  the  par- 
ent countries  in  Europe.    Thus  ftands  the  fa^t  of  an  accuftomed  trade,  in 
time  of  peace,  as  relates  to  the  Weft  Indies.    In  regard  to  the  Eaft  Indies,  it 
is  cerUin  that  the  vefTck  of  the  United  States  have  always  gone  firecly  tothc 
Britifh  fettlements  there,  and  it  is  believed,  that  the  vefTcls  of  our  country 
were  the  firft  to  export  fugars  from  Bengal,  and  that  their  exportations  uvc 
augmented  immenfely  the  culture  of  that  article  in  that  country.    To  manf 
of  the  Dutch  fettlements  our  vefTels  have  gone  with  but  little  interruption; 
and  to  fome  of  thefe,  and  to  the  French  pofTefTions,  more  efpccially  to  the 
ifles  of  France  and  Bourbon,  the  trade  of  the  United  States  has  t>een  con- 
ftant,  uninterrupted,  and  incrcafing,  ever  fince  the  year  1784.    I^  ^'f^  f! 
then,  sir,  for  thefe  gentlemen  to  conceive  how  the  dodtrine  or  the  wa,  ai- 
fumed  by  Great  Britain,  can  be  fupported  by  the  law  of  nations,  of  recon- 
ciled to  the  truth.  ^  ^ 

Moreover,  Great  Britain  profcfles,  that  the  decifilons  of  her  a""|^ 
courts  are  always  regulated  by  the  law  of  nations  ;  that  ihey  do  not  °^, 
particular  circumftances,  nor  are  guided  by  the  orders  or  ^^^P^^^^^^^L  K^ 
government.  The  principles  of  this  law  arc  immutable ;  being  ^°"  ^^L^ 
truth  and  juftice,  they  are  ever  the  fame.  Now  it  appears  from  the  P**^ 
of  Great  Britain  herfclf,  that  In  the  war  of  1744,  and  in  that  ^;hich  was  cw- 
eluded  in  1783,  whether  the  trade  was  an  accuftomed  one  in  time  of  pc  ' 
made  no  part  of  the  difcuflion,  nor  was  it  pretended,  that  the  ^^^.^^  j, 
ving  been  profccuted  in  peace,  fubjcfted  the  vcflel  or  cargo  to  forfeiture, 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


AMERICAN  STATE   PAPSRi.  ^       2S 

#ar.  It  feems  more  like  the  offspring  of  her  pre-eminent  power  on  the  ocean^ 
in  the  two  wars  of  1756,  and  that  Which  lately  ended, thanlhe  legitimate 
dodrine  of  right  and  juftlce.  In  the  war  of  1756,  Dutch  vclTcls  by  fpccial 
ticenfe  from  France,  were  permitted  to  export  the  produce  of  the  French  co- 
lonies. Thefe  were  captured  and  condemned,  on  the  ground,  that  by  adop- 
tipn  they  had  become  French  veflels.  Afterwards  the  property  was  carried  td 
Monte  Chrifti,  and  exported  thence  in  Dutch  veflcls.  Particular  trades,  and 
ipecial  privileges  were  alfo  allowed  by  France,  to  vefltU  belonging  to  citizen^ 
of  Amderdam,  as  a  gratification  for  their  peculiar  exertions  to  induce  the  (tadt- 
holder  to  take  part  with  France  againft  Great  Britain.  Veflels  and  their  car- 
goes fo  circumftanced,  were  captured  and  a>ndemncd  by  the  Britifh,  and 
this  principle  was  then  brought  forward  to  juftify  their  condu<ft,  as  coveringj 
in  their  courts,  all  the  cafes  by  a  rule  as  e^ttenlive  as  was  the  power  and  cu- 
pidity of  their  cruifcrs  on  the  Tea. 

In  the  war  for  the  independence  of  America,  this  principle^  fet  lip  for  the 
firit  time  in  that  which  preceded  it,  and  contrary  to  former  practice,  was 
abandoned.  This  is  cpiemplified  in  the  following  cafe,  viz  :  A  veflel  bound 
from  Marfeillcs  to  Martinico,  and  back  again,  was  taken  on  the  outward 
voyage  ;  the  vice  admiralty  court  at  Antigua  gave  half  freight.  On  appeal, 
the  lords  of  appeal  gave  the  whole,  it  is  faid  in  anfvver  to  this,  that  France 
bpencd  her  colonies,  and  though  it  was  during  the  exiftence  of  war,  yet  it  wad 
the  profcflion  of  keeping  theni  always  fo,  but  was  afterwards  found  delufivc 
The  lords  of  appeal,  however,  in  the  cafe  of  the  Danifli  veflel,  could  not  have 
adted  upon  fuch  grounds  :  for  their  decifion  was  in  1786,  three  years  after 
the  peace,  and  after  it  was  manifcft,  if  any  doubt  had  before  exifted,  that  the 
general  opening  of  the  trade  between  the  colonies  and  the  mother  country >. 
to  foreigners,  was  a  temporary  expedient,  and  dependent  on  the  duration  of, 
the  war.  The  claim  before  them  was  merely  equitable,  being  for  freight  of 
that  part  of  the  voyage  which  had  not  been  performed,  and  to  obtain  which 
the  party  claiming  is  bound  to  (hew,  that  he  has  oiTended  no  law  and  inter- 
fered  with  no  rights  of  the  belligerent. 

What  renders  the  condu«5l  of  Great  Britain  peculiarly  injurious  to  the  mer* 
chants  of  our  country  at  this  time,  is  the  extenfion  of  this  offcnfive  dodrinei 
contrary  to  her  own  cxprefs  and  publJck  declaration  of  the  law  during  the  4aft 
war  ;  fmr  it  was  then  declared,  that  the  importation  from  an  enemy's  colony^ 
to  the  country  to  which  the  ihip  belonged,  and  the  fubfequent  exportation 
was  lawful ;  and  fo  of  property,  the  produce  of  the  parent  country,  going 
from  the  United  States  to  the  colony — Vide  cafes  of  Immanual  and  Pollys  ia 
Robinfon's  Admiralty  Reports,  before  cited.  Whereas  property  going  from 
the  United  States,  the  produce  of  an  enemy's  country,  to  her  colony,  althougU 
bona  fide  imported  and  landed  in  the  United  States,  and  exported  on  the  fole 
account  and  rifk  of  the  American  merchant,  is  now  tAkcn  and  condemned,  oil 
the  grounds  that  the  fame  perfon  and  veflel  Imported  and  exported  the  fame 
articles  j  and  thus,  by  an  arbitrary  interpretation  of  the  intention  of  the  mer- 
chant, the  fecond  voyage  is  adjudged  to  be  a  continuance  of  the  firft.  If  tliig. 
new  and  extraordinary  doctrine  of  continuity  is  maintained  on  the  part  of 
Great  Britain,  and  acquiefced  in  by  the  United  States,  a  very  large  property, 
now  afloat,  may  be  fubjedt  to  condemnation,  and  it  muft  follow,  that  an  ex- 
tenfive  trade,  which  has  been  carried  on  with  great  advantage  by  the  United 

States  for  thefe  twelve  years,  and  admitted  to  be  lawful,  will  be  totallv  anxli- 
ilated. 

The  Indus,  and  cargo,  have  been  condemned  op  the  mere  poffibility,  that 
{he  fame  might  go  to  Europe,  from  Bollon,  in  cnfe  of  a  peace,  in  which  even^ 
Great  Britain  could  pretend  to  no  authority  to  qucfiionthe  voyage  (be^ioUld 
make. 

Now^  to  adopt  a  principle  of  dubious  right  in  its  own  nature,  and  then  ta 
tztend  fuch  principle  to  a  further  reftriCtioQ  of  the  trade  of  the  neutral  wH^ 
Tol«  III.  Appendix.         & 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


!?6  XMERICAX    S'fATE    I»APERS. 

ont  notice^  is  (\>reading  a  fnarcto  entrap  the  property  and  defeat  the  afctntnr'^ 
let^v^cd  rights  to  which  he  is  entitled. 

Such  are  its  cffc:<5ts,  both  on  the  iiiJividunI  outiers  of  this  property,  as  well 
a?  on  the  underwritcra.  For  Mr.  Stars  and  Mr.  Chapman,  in-  planning  this 
voy^f^e,  and  indeed- in  every  one  they  ever  profcciited,  have  endeavoured  to 
afccrrain  what  the  law  authorized  them  to  do,  as  that  law  was  underftood 
and  pra(5t»fid  by  the  belligerently  and  for  this  purpofc  they  examined  the  or- 
ders to  the  Britilh  crail'ers,  the  adjudications  in  the  Britifli  courts  during  the 
]r<\  war,  and  conceived  themfclves  clearly  within  even  the  narrowcft  limits  to 
which  Great  Britainr  prtilerflcd  to  circumfcribe  the  trade  of  nentrat^  The  un- 
dcrwfitcis  n\(o  have  been  uniformly  guided,  in  infaring^ property,  by  the  ruler 
tleclared  .-trrd  promulgated  by  the  belligerents  themfclves.  In  the  prefent  cafe, 
they  ci>nrrdered,  that  according  to  the  clealcft  evidence  of  thofe  rules,  tht7 
incurred  no  rilk  from  Biitifli  cruifcrs. 

S^umld  then  Great,  Britain  undertake  to  prcfume,  that  the  law  would  au- 
tho  ize  the  interruption  of  ftjch  atrade,  thcfe  gentknncn  cannot  bring  them* 
If  Ives  to  bel'cvc,  that  uTider  even  ftich  imprefBons  of  her  rights  ihc  would  fo 
far  f  »rgct  what  is^dne  to  her  former  underftanding  of  the  law,  and to  the  cn^ 
couragtment  givtn  to  ftjch  a  commerce,  as  without  notice  of  her  altered  fen* 
timems  to  ieize  and  confifcate  the  property  of  thoTcy  who  had  fo  conformed: 
their  voyages  to  rules  pronounced  by  herfelf. 
I  have  the  honour  to  be,  fir, 

With  great  refpetft,  your  obedient  fiervant, 

(Signed)  ,      G.  GORT- 

Honourable  y antes  Madifon^  e/i*. 
/ecretarj   of  Jlate,- 


■  EMOKBTRANCE    BY    THE     MIKISTER     PLENlT>OTEXrrARV    OH    THE  UHP" 
TEIX  STATES    TO    THE    fil^lTISH    GOTERNMENT. 

No,  12,  Sept.  23,  180;. 
MV  Lord, 

I  FLATTERED  myfelf,  from  wBat  pafTed  in  our  laft  interview,  that  f 
ffiould  have  been  honoured,  before  ttiis,  with  an  anfwcr  from  your  lordfh'p 
to  my  letter^  refpedting  the  late  feizure  of  American  TelMs.  I  underftood  if 
to  be  agreed,  that  the  difcufllon  which  then  took  place,  fhould  be  confidered 
as  uno^cial,  as  explanatory  only  of  the  ideas  which  we  might  refpcftively  en- 
tertain on  the  fuhje<5t,  and  that  your  Jordlhip  wouW  afterwards  give  me  fuch 
a  reply  to  my  letters,  r«{i>eding  that  meafiire,  as  his  majefty's  govcmmen? 
might  delire  to  have  communicated  to  the  government  of  the  United  States. 
Tn  confequcrtce,  \  have  fince  waited  with  anxiety  for  fuch  a  communication, 
Ml  the  daily  expe<5tation  of  receiving  it.  It  is  far  from  being  my  defirc  to 
give  your  lordfhip  any  trouble  in  this  bufinefs  which  I  can  avoid,  as  the  time 
which  has  fince  clapfed  fufficiently  Ihews.  But  the  great  importance  of  the 
fiibjed^,  which  has  indeed  become  more  fo  by  the  continuance  of  the  fame 
policy  and*  the  frequency  of  ftizures  which  are  ftill  made  of  American  veflels. 
place  me  in*  a  fituation  of  peculiar  refponfibillty.  My  government  will  cxpedf 
of  me  corrc<fi  information  on  this  point,  in  all  its  views,  and  I  am  very  defi^ 
ous  of  complying  with  its  juft  expedation.  I  muft,  therefore,  agai«  rcqueff 
that  your  lordfhip  would  be  fo  kind  as  to  enable  me  to  make  fuch  a  reprcfcn* 
^tion  to  my  government,  of  that  meaftire,  as  hiS'  maje(!y*^s  government  may 
think  proper  to  give. 

I  am  forry  to  add,  that  the  longer  I  have  reflcdled  on  the  fubjeft,  the  morJ 
confirmed  I  have  been  in  the  objedions  to  the  meafure.  If  we  examine  it 'H 
reference  to  the  law  of  nations,  it  appears  to  me  to  be  repugnant  to  every 
principle  of  that  law  ;  if  by  the  uwierfthnding,  or  as  it  may  be  more  propen/ 
called,  the  agreement  of  our  goYcrnmeots,.refpc6tmg  tbt  commerce,  b  q*cK 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


A«fBRrCAN   STATE   PAFER«^  IT 

•^lOfi,  T  confidcr  it  equally  repugnant  to  the  principles  of  that  agreement.  In 
both  tbefe  views  your  lordlhip  will  permit  n^e  to  make  forhe  additional  re- 
marks on  the  fubje<^. 

By  the  law  of  nations  as  fettled  by  the  moil  approved  writers,  no  other  re- 
flraint  is  acknowledged,  on  tlic  trade  of  neutral  nations,  with  thofc  at  war, 
than  that  it  be  impartial  hetween  the  latter  ;  that  itiliall  not  extend  to  arti- 
cles which  are  deemed  contraband  of  war  ;.  nor  to  the  tranfporlation  of  ptr- 
fons  in  military  fervicc  ;  nor  to  places  afiwally  blockaded  or  befieged.  Eve- 
ry other  commerce  of  a  neutral  with  a  belligerent  is  confidered  as  a  lawral 
xrommerce  ;  and  every  other  rtftraint^n  it  to  either  of  the  bcllig^jrents  by  ike 
other,  an  unlawful  reftraint.  ^ 

The  lift  of  contraband  it  well  defined,  as  are  aHb  thexriroumftance*  whicli 
conft it ute  a  blockade.  The  beft  authorities  have  imited  in  coi^fining  the  firft 
to  fuoh  articles  as  are  iifed  in  war,  md  aie  applicable  to  railitary  purpofet*  i 
and  requiring^  to  conftitute  thclatter^  the  difpoHtion  of  fuch  a  force,  confift- 
ing  of  Itationary  (hips,  fo  near  the  port,  by  the  power  which  attacks  it,  as  to 
make  it  dangerous  for  the  veflll  of  a  neutral  power  to  enter  it.  The  late 
treaty  been  Grrat  Britain  and  Rujfia^  defignatcs  thefe  circumftances  as  necef- 
/ary  to  conftitute  a  blockade,  and  it  is  believed  that  it  was  never  viewed  be- 
fore in  a  light  noore  favourable  to  the  invading  power. 

The  veflcls  condemned  were  engaged  in  a  xrommerce  between  the  United 
States  and  forne  port  in  Europe f  or  between  thofe  ftates  and  the  fi''efl  India 
JJJandiy  belonging  to  an  enemy  of  Great  Britain*  In  the  European  voyage 
the  cargo  confifled  of  the  goods  of  the  power  to  which  ^he  cok>ny  belonged 
and  to  which  the  (hip  was  deftined.  The  ihip  and  cargo  in  every  cafe,  were 
the  property  of  American  citizens,  and  the  cargo  had  been  landed,  and  the 
duty  on  it  paid  in  the  United  States.  It  was  decided  that  thefe  voyages  were 
continuous,  and  the  veifcls  and  cargoes,  were  condemned  on  the  piinciple 
that  the  commerce  was  illegal.  I  beg  to  refer  more  efpecially  in  this  ftate- 
ment  to  the  cafe  of  the  Eflex,  an  appeal  from  the  judgment  of  the  vice  admi- 
ralty court  at  Ne<uf  Providence^  in  which  the  lords  commiiBoners  of  appeals 
in  confirming  that  judgment  eftabliihed  thisdo^rine. 

It  requires  but  a  flight  view  of  the  fubjed  to  be  fatisficd  that  thefe  condem- 
nations are  incompatible  with  the  law  of  nations  as  above  ftated.  None  of  the 
cafes  have  involved  a  <jueftion  of  contraband,  of  blockade,  or  of  any  other 
kind  that  was  cvercontefted  till  of  late.in  favour  of  a  belligerent  againft  a  neu- 
tral power.  It  is  not  on  any  principle  (hat  is  applicable  to  any  llich  cafe* 
Ihat  the  meafyre  can  be  defended.  On  what  principle  then  is  it  fupported  by 
Great  Britain  f  What  is  the  nature  and  extent  of  the  doArine  ?  What  are 
the  circumftanoes  which  recommend,  the  arguments  which  fupport  it  \  For 
information  on  thefe  points  we  capnot  refer  to  the  well  known  writers  on  the 
law  of  nations  ;  no  ill  u  ft  ration  can  be  obtained  from  them  of  a  do^rine  which 
they  never  heard  of.  We  muft  Jook  for  it  to  an  authority  more  modem ;  to 
one  which,  however  refpedable  for  the  learning  and  profeifional  abilities  of 
the  judge  who  prefides,  is  neverthelefs  one  which,  from  many  conliderations* 
is  not  obligatory  on  other  powers.  In  a  report  of  the  decifions  of  the  court  of 
admiralty  of  this  kingdom,  we  find  a  notice  of  a  feries  of  orders  iflued  by  the 
government  of  different  dates  and  imports,  which  have  regulated  the  bufinefs. 
The  firft  of  thefe  bears  date  on  the  6th  of  Nov.  1793  ;  the  fecond  on  the  8th 
of  Jan.  1794  ;  the  third  on  the  25th  Jan.  1798.  Other  orders  have  been  iflTur 
ed  fince  the  commencement  of  the  prefent  war^  It  is  thefe  orders  which  have 
authorized  the  feizures  that  were  made  at  different  times  in  the  courfe  of 
the  laft  war,  and  were  lately  made  by  Britiih  cruiiers  of  the  veifels  of  the  Uni» 
ted  States.  Thefe  too  form  the  law  which  has  governed  the  courts  in  the  deci- 
fions on  the  feveral  cafes  which  have  arifcn  under  thofe  feizures.  The  firft  of 
thefe  orders  prohibits  altogether  every  fpecies  of  commerce  between  neutral 
countries  and  enemies'  colonies  ;  and  between  neutral  and  other  countries,  in 
{be  produ^ions  of  thofe  colooics  ;  the  fecond  and  fubfequcnt  orders  modify 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


i$  AMtSTf  AH  STATC  FAPEM; 

Jt  in  f  ariout  forms.  The  doctrine,  however,  in  every  deciQon,  is  the  fkme  J  It 
18  contended  in  each,  that  the  charader  and  juft  extent  of  the  principle  U  to  be 
ifound  in  the  the  firft  order,  and  that  every  departure  from  it  fincc  has  been 
a  relaxation  of  the  principle,  not  claimed  of  right  by  neptral  powers,  hut  cod- 
peded  in  their  favour  gratuitoufly  by  QreaUBntain. 

In  fupport  of  thefc  orders  it  is  urged,  that  as  the  colonial  trade  is  a  fyftem 
of  monopoly  to  the  parent  country  in  time  of  peace,  neutral  powers  have  no 
light  to  participate  in  it  in  time  of  war^although  they  be  permitted  fo  to  60  by 
the  parent  countiy  :    that  a  belligerent  has  a  rignt  to  intcrdid  them  ftx>ra 
fuch  a  commerce.     It  is  on  this  fyftem  of  internal  reftraint,  this  regulation  of 
polonial  trade,  by  the  powers  having  colonies,  that  a  new  principle  of  the  law 
pf  nations  is  attrmpted  to  be  founded  :   one  which  feeks  to  difcriminate  ia 
rcfpcd  td  the  commerce  of  neutral  powers,  with  a  belligerent,  between  diffirr- 
ent  parts  of  the  territory  of  the  fame  power,  and  likewife  fubverts  manf  other 
principles  of  great  importance,  which  have  heretofore  been  held  (acred  among 
nations.     It  is  believed  that  fo  important  a  fuperftrudlure  was  never  raifedon 
fo  flight  a  foundation.     Permit  me  to  afk,  does  H  follow,  bccaufe  the  parent 
country  moiiopolifes  in  peace  the  whole  commerce  of  her  colonies,  that  in 
war  it  flnould  have  no  right  to  regulate  it  at  all  ?   That  on  the  contrary^t 
fhould  be  conftrucd  to  transfer,  in  equal  extent,  a  right  to  its  enemy,  to  the 
prejudice  of  the  parent  country,  of  the  colonies,  and  of  neutral  powers  ?  If 
this  do^rine  was  found  it  would   certainly  inftitute  a  new  and  lingular  mode 
of  acquiring  and  lofing  rights  ;  one  which  would  be  highly  advantageous  to 
one  party,  while  it  wrs  equally  injurious  to  the  other.      To  the  colonics, 
mo;;^  efpecially,  it  would  prove  peculiarly   onerous  and  opprelfive.     It  if 
known  that  they  anc  rflentially  dependent  for  their  exiftence,  on  fuppliei 
from  other  countries,  efpccially  the  United  States  of  America,  who,  being 
in  their  neighbourhocid,  have  the  means  of  fiimifhing  them  with  greatcft  cer- 
tainty, and  on  the  beft  terms.    I9  it  not  fufficicnt  that  they  be  fubje^edto 
that  reftraint  in  peace,  when  the  evils  attending  it,  by  the  occafional  inter- 
ference of  the  parent  country,  maj-  be,  and  are  frequently  rcqotred  ?    h  it 
confiflcnt  with  juftice  or  humanity,  that  it  fliould  be  converted  intoa  prinvi- 
pie,  in  favour  of  an  enemy,  inexorable  of  courfe,  but  otherwife  without  the 
means    of  liftcning  to  their  complaints,  not  for  their  diftrefe  or  oppreffion 
only,  but  for  their  extermination  ?  But  there  are  other  infuperabl^  obge^ont 
to  this  dodrine.    Are  not  the  colonies  of  every  country  a  part  of  its  domain, 
and  do  they  not  cnntinue  to  be  ib  until  they   are  fevered  from  it  by  con- 
qucft  I    Is  not  the  power  to  regulate  commerce,  incident  to  the  fovercigoty, 
and  is  it   not  co-cxtcnfive  over  the  whole  territory  which  any  government 
pofft  iTes  ?    Can  one  belligerent  acquire  any  right  to  the  territory  of  another 
bnt  by  conqueft  ?    And  can  any  rights  which  appertain  thereto,  be  otherwi^ 
defeated  or  curtailed  in  war?    In   whatever  light,  therefore,  the  fubjedis 
viewed,  it  appears  to  me  evident  that  this  dodrine  cannot  be  fupported.    No 
diftin<ftion,  founded  in  reafon,  can  b^  taken  between  the  different  parts  of  the 
territory  of  the  liirae  power  tojuftffy  it.    The  feparation  of  one  portion  from 
another  by  the  fea  gives  lawfully  to  the  belligerent  which  is  fuperiour  on  that 
flement,  a  yaft  afcendency  in  all  the  concerns  on  which  the  fucccfe  of  the 
war,  or  the  relative  profperity  of  their  rcfpedivc  dominions,  may  in  any  de- 
gree depend.    It  opens  to  fuch  power  ample  means  for  its  own  aggrafidifc* 
ment,  and  for  the  harraflTmcnt  and  diftrefs  of  its  adverfary.    With  thefc  it 
ihould  be  fatisfied.    But  neither  can  that  circumftance,  nor  can  any  of  inter- 
pal  arrangement,  which  any  power  may  adopt  for  the  government  of  its  do- 
mains, be  conftrued  to  give  to  its  enemy  any  other  advantage  over  it.    They 
eertainly  do  not  juftify  the  doAriac  in  queftion,  which  aflbrtt  that  the  bww 
pations  varies  in  its  application  to  different  portions  of  the  territory  of  the 
fame  power  :  that  it  operates  in  one  mode,  in  refpedt  to  one,  and  in  anotheri 
or  even  not  at  all,  in  refpe(5t  to  another  ;  that  the  rights  of  humanity,  of  nc»- 
iral  powersi  ^ad  all  other  rights,  ^re  to  fink  Itdbreit. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


AVSniCA^r  STATE  FA7E1I6I  ft 

It  Is  further  urgjed  that  neutral  powers  ought  not  to  complain  of  this  re^ 
traint»  becauft  they  ftand  under  it,  on  the  fame  gronnd,  with  refpe^  to  that 
commerce,  which  they  held  in  time  of  peace.  But  this  faft,  if  true,  gives  no 
iupport  to  the  pret«nfion.  The  claim  involves  a  queftion  of  right,  not  of  in- 
tereft.  Jf  the  neutral  powers  have  a  right  in  war  to  fuch  commerce  with  tho 
colonies  of  the  enemies  of  Great  Britain,  as  the  parent  ftates  refpe^ively  al- 
lowed, they  ought  not  to  be  deprived  of  it  by  her,  nor  can  its  juft  claims  be 
fatisBed  by  any  compromife  of  the  kind  alluded  to.  For  this  argument  to 
have  the  weight  which  it  is  intended  to  give  it,  the  commerce  of  the  neutral 
powers  with  thofe  colonies  (hould  be  placed  and  preferved  through  the  war, 
in  the  fame  ftate,  as  if  it  had  not  occurred.  Great  Britain  (hould  in  re^dt  to 
them  take  the  place  of  the  parent  country ,and  do  every  thing  which  the  latter 
would  h^ve  done  had  there  been  no  war.  To  difchargc  that  duty,it  would  be 
Heccflary  for  her  to  cftabliih  fuch  a  police  over  the  colony,  as  to  be  able  to  ex-» 
amine  the  circumftances  attending  it  annually,  to  afcertain  whether  the  crops 
^cre  abundant,  fupplies  from  other  quarters  had  failed,  and  eventually  to  de- 
cide whether  under  fuch  circumftances  the  parent  country  would  have  opened 
the  ports  to  neutral  powers.  But  thefe  offices  cannot  be  performed  by  any 
power  which  is  not  in  ponefTion  of  the  colony  ;  that  can  only  be  pbtained  by 
conqueft,  in  which  cafe,  the  vi^or  would  of  courfe  have  a  right  to  regulate  its 
trade  as  it  thought  ftt. 

It  is  alfo  faid,  that  neutral  powers  have  no  right  to  profit  of  the  advantages 
ivhich  are  gained  in  war  by  the  arms  of  Great  Britain.  This  argument  has 
even  lefs  weight  than  the  others.  It  does  not,  in  truth,  apply  at  all  to  the 
queftion.  Neutral  powers  do  not  claim  a  right,  as  already  obfcrved,  to  any 
commerce  with  the  colonies  which  Great  Britain  may  have  conquered  of  her 
enemies,  otherwifc  than  on  the  conditions  whick  fhe  impofes.  The  point  in 
queftion  turns  on  the  commerce  which  they  are  entitled  to  with  the  colonies 
-which  ftie  has  not  conquered,  but  ftill  remain  fubje<5f  to  the  dominion  of  the 
parent  country.  With  fuch  it  is  con?ended,for  reafons  that  have  been  already 
given,  that  neutral  powers  have  a  right  to  enjoy  all  the  advantages  in  trade 
w  hich  the  parent  country  allows  them  :  a  right  of  which  the  mere  circum- 
ftance  of  war  cannot  deprive  them.  Jf  Great  Britain  had  a  right  to  prohibit 
that  commerce,  it  exifted  before  the  war  began,  and  of  courfe  before  (he  had 
gained  any  advantage  over  her  enemies.  If  it  did  not  then  exift,  it  certainly 
does  not  at  the  prefent  time.  Rights  of  the  kind  in  queftion,  cannot  depend 
on  the  fortune  of  war,  or  other  contingencies.  The  law  which  regulates 
them  is  invariable,until  it  be  changed  by  the  competent  authority.  It  forms  a 
rule  equally  between  l>elligerent  powers,  and  between  neutral  and  belligerenti 
•which  is  dictated  by  reaf©n  and  fandioned  by  the  ufagc  and  confent  of  nations,] 
The  foregoing  confiderations  have,  it  is  prefumed,  proved  that  the  claim 
of  Great  Britain  to  prohibit  the  commerce  of  neutral  powers,  in  the  manner 
propofed,  is  repugnant  to  the  law  of  nations.  If,  however,  any  doubt  remain- 
ed on  that  point,  other  confiderations  which  may  ht  urged  cannot  fail  to  re- 
move it.  The  number  of  orders  of  different  imports  which  have  been  if- 
fued  by  government,  to  regulate  the  feizure  of  neutral  velfels,  is  a  proof 
that  there  is  no  eftablifhed  law  for  the  purpofe.  Andtheftri^nefs  with  which 
the  courts  have  followed  thpfe  orders,  through  their  various  modifications,  is 
equally  a  proof  that  there  is  no  other  authority  for  the  government  of  their  de- 
cifions.  If  the  order  of  the  6th  of  November,  1793,  contained  the  true  doc- 
trine of  the  law  of  nations,  there  would  have  been  no  occafion  for  thole  which 
followed,  nor  is  it  probable  that  they  would  haye  been  iffued  5  indeed  if  that 
order  had  been  in  conformity  with  that  law,  there  would  have  been  no  occa- 
fion for  it.  As  in  the  cafes  of  blockade  and  contraband,  the  law  would  have 
been  well  known  without  an  order,  efpecially  one  Co  very  defcriptive,  the 
intereft  of  the  cruifers.  which  is  always  fufficienrly  a^ve,wouId  have  prompt- 
ed them  to  make  the  feizmes,  and  the  opinion  of  eminent  writers,  which ir\ 
that  cafe  would  not  have  been  wanting^  would  have  fiirniiicd  the  courts  th^ 
pc(\  authority  for  their  decifiona. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


9t>  AMRHfetlK  9T11TK   TkJnM^ 

I  feall  now  proceed  -to  flicw  that  the  decifions  compUlned  of  arc  contwy 
to  the  undertanding,  or  what,  perhaps  may  more  proptrly  be  called  an  agwe. 
mcnt  of  the  two  governments,  on  the  fubjcd.  By  the  order  of  tht  6th  of  No- 
vember,! 793,  fome  hundreds  of  American  vcflcis  were  fcized,carried  mto  port, 
and  condemned.  Thotfe  feizurec,  and  condemnations,  became  the  ivbjed  of 
an  immediate  negociation- between  the  two  nations,  %vhich  terminated io  1 
treaty,  by  which  it  was  agreed  tofubmit  the  whole  fubjed  to  commiffioDcn, 
who  ihould  be  invefted  with  full  power  to  fettle  the  coatroytrfy  which  M 
thusarifen.  That  ftipulation  was  carried  into  compltte  effc<f^ ;  comoif- 
iioners  were  appointed,  who  examined,  laboHoufly  and  fully,  all  the  calrti 
Seizure  and  condemnation  which  had  taken  place,  and  iinally  decided  en  the 
iame,  in  which  decifions  they  condemned  the  principle  of  the  order  and  awanl- 
ed  compensation  to  tho<e  who  had  fuffered  under  it.  Thofe  awards  bin 
been  fince  fairly  and  honourably  difcharged  by  G.  B.  It  merits  particular  at- 
tention that  a  f>art  of  the  12th  »^ticle  of  that  treaty,  referred  exprtfsly  to  tbt 
{K>int  in  qutdiou,  and  that  it  was  on  the  folemn  deliberation  of  each  govern 
ment,  by  their  mutual  confent,  expunged  from  iu  It  ieems  therefore  to  be 
^mpuf^ble  to  conlider  that  tranCtdion,  under  all  the  circuniftances  attcndiof 
it,in  any  other  light  than  as  a  fairaad  amicable  adjuftment  of  the  queftion  be* 
tween  the  pailies  ;  one  which  authorized  the  jull  ex.pedtation,  that  it  wouii 
never  have  btcomc  af;ain  a  caufc  of  complaint  between  them.  Thefcijfei 
both  was  exprcfled  on  it  in  a  manner  too  marked  and  explicit  to  admit  of  1 
♦lifi'erent  conclufion.  The  fubje«fl  too  was  of  a  nature  that  when  once  feliW 
«njght  to  be  contitlercd  as  fettled  forever.  It  is  not  like  queftions  of  commerce 
between  two  powers,  which  affect  their  internal  concerns,  and  depend, of 
courfe,  on  the  internal  regulations  of  each.  When  thcfe  latter  are  arranged 
by  treaty,  the  rights  which  accrue  to  each  party  under  it,  in  the  inttriour  of 
the  other,  ceafe  when  the  treaty  expires.  Each  has  a  right  afterwards  to  dc* 
eide  for  itfelf  in  what  manner  that  con<:em  ihaJl  be  regulated  in  futute,  aodia 
that  deciion  to  confult  folely  itsintereft.  But  the  prefent  topkk  is  of  a  vrrf 
different  charftder.  It  involves  no  quedion  of  commerce  or  other  intenul 
concern  between  two  nations.  Jt  rcfpeds  the  commerce  only,  which  cither 
may  have  with  the  enemies  of  the  other,  in  time  of  war.  It  involvesi  tbere> 
fore,  only  a  queflion  of  right,  under  the  law  of  nations,  which  in  its  nature 
cannot  fluduate.  It  is  pioper  to  add,  that  the  conclufion,  above  mcnticntd, 
was  further  fupported  ^y  the  important  fa<^,  that,  until  the  late  decree  in 
the  cafe  of  the  Mfix^  not  one  American  vcHel,  cngagei;^  in  this  commerce,  hai 
been  condemned  on  this  dodrine  ;  that  feveral  which  were  met  in  thccban- 
i?el,  by  the  Britiih  cruifers,  were  permitted,  after  an  eicamination  of  their  pa^ 
pers,  to  purfuc  the  voyage.  This  cirxumftance  juftified  the  opinion,  that 
that  commerce  was  deemed  a  lawful  one  by  Great  Britain. 

There  is  another  ground,  on  which  the  late  feizurcs  and  condcmnxtiooi 
arc  confidered  as  highly  objedion^ble,  and  furnifh  juft  caufe  of  complaiut  to 
the  United  States.  Until  the  final  teport  o^ommiijioners  under  the  7th  article 
of  the  treaty  of  1794,  which  was  not  made  until  laft  year,  it  is  admitted 
that  their  arbitrament  was  not  obligatory  on  the  parties,  in  the  fcnfc  in  whidi 
it  is  now  contended  to  be.  Every  intermediate  declaration,  however,  by  9? 
B.  of  her  fenfe  on  the  fubje<a,  muft  be  conlidered  as  binding  on  her,  as  it  hw 
the  foundation  of  commercial  enterprizcs,  which  wei^c  thought  to  be  fecurc 
while  within  that  limit.  Your  lordship  will  permit  me  to  refer  you  to  fern- 
al  exaniples  of  this  kind,  which  were  equally  formal  and  ofllcial,  in  which  the 
fcnfc  of  his  majefty's  government  was  declared  very  dilTerently  froo 
vhat  it  has  been  in  the  late  condemnations.  In  Robinfon's  reports,  vol.  i» 
page  .'^68,  (cafe  the  Polly,  Lalkey,  maflcr]  it  feemsto  have  been  clearly  eftab- 
jifhed  by  the  learned  judge  of  the  court  of  admiralty,  that  an  American  hasj 
right  to  import  the  produce  of  an  enemy's  colony  into  the  United  Statci,aM 
to  fend  it  on  afterwards  to  the  general  commerce  of  Europe;  and  ^*^^°J 
landing  the  goods, ,  nd  paying  the  duties  in  the  United  States  ihQiild  precluoU 


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AMERICAN   3TAT£    J^APER^.  SI 

^  forthcr  qucition  relative  ta  the  voyage.  The  terms  «*"for  Ws  own  ufe/' 
t^hich  are  to  be  found  in  the  report,  are  obvioiifly  intended  to  aflcrt  the 
daim^  only  that  the  property  fhall  be  American,  and  not  that  of  an  enemy  ^ 
by  admitting  the  right  to  fend  on  the  produce  afterwards  to  the  general  com- 
fnerce  of  Europe,  it  is  not  poflrble  that  thofe  terms  fhould  convey  any  other 
idea.  A  bona  fide  importation  is  alfo  held  by  the  judge  to  be  fatisfied  by  thir 
Hnding  the  goods  and  payihg  the  duties.  Th4s  therefore  isr  I  think,  the  true 
import  of  that  decifion.  The  doftrinc  ia  again  laid  down  in  fill  I  more  expli- 
cit terms  by  the  government  itfelf,  in  a  corrc(l)ondence  between  lord  Hawkef^ 
bury  and  my  predeceflTor,  Mr.  King.  The  cafe  was  precifely  fimilar  to  thofe 
tv'hich  have  been  lately  before  the  court.  Mr.  King  complained,  in  a  letter  of 
M.irch  18^,  i^oi,that  the  cargo  of  an  American  veflcl  going  fr^jim  the  United 
States  to  a  Spanifh  colony,  had  been  condemned  by  the  vite  admiralty  Court 
of  NaflHiu,  on  the  ground  that  it  was  of  the  growth  of  Spain,  which  decifioit 
be  contended  was  cotitrary  to  the  la>r  of  nations,  and  rcqueflcd  that  fuitablo 
in ftrudrions  might  be  dii^atchtd  to  the  proper  officers  in^  the  Weft  Indies^ 
to  prevent  like  abafes  in  future. 

L(n-d  Hfawkefbury,Tn  a  reply  of  April  ri, communicated  the  report  of  the  ktng'9 
advocate  general,  in  which  it  is  exprefsly  ftated  that  the  produce  of  an  enemy 
liiay  be  imported  by  a- neutral  into  his  own  country  and  re-exported  thence  to 
the  mother  country  :  and  in  like  manner,  in  that  circuitous  mode,  that  the 
produce  and' manufactures  of  the  mother  country  might  find  their  way  to  it* 
colonies  ;  that  the  landing  the  goods  and  paying  the  duties  in  the  neutraV 
country  broke  the  continuity  of  the  voyage,  and  legalized  the  trade,  although- 
the  goods  were  re-fliipped  in  the  fame  velTel,  on  account  of  the  fame  neutral 
proprietors,  and  forwarded  for  fale  to  the  mother  country  of  the  colony.  It 
merits  attention  in  this  report,  (<b  clearly  and  politivtly  is  the  dodtrinc  laidb 
down,  that  the  landing  the  goods  and  paying  the  dtities  in  the  neutral  coua* 
try  broke  the  cbntinuity  of  the  voyage)  that  it  is  ftated  as  a  doubtful  point  whc* 
thcr  the  mere  touching  in  the  neutral  country  to  obtain  frefh  clcaranofs  will 
be  confidered  in  the  light  of  the  direA  trade  ;  that  no  poQtive  inhibition  i» 
infifted  on  any  but  the  direct  trade  between  the  mother  country  and  the  co- 
lonies. 

This  doArine,  in  the  light  herein  ftated,  rs  alfbtobe  found  in  the  treaty  be- 
tween Great  Britain  and  Ruflia,  June  17,  iJoi.  By  the  ad  fedion  of  the  ,•?<> 
article,  the  commerce  of  neutrals  in  the  productions  or  man^ufaCtures  of  the 
enemies  of  Great  Britain,  which  have  become  the  property  of  the  neutral,  ia 
declared  to  be  free  ;  that  feftion  was  afterwards  explained  by  a  declaratory 
article  of  OClo^^er  ao  of  the  fame  year,  by  which  it  is  agreed,  that  it  fhall  not 
be  underftrood  to  autfiorifc  iieutrals  to  carry  the  produte  or  merchandife  of  adr 
enemy  either  direiftly  from  the  colonies  to  the  parent  country,  or  ft-om  the  pa- 
rent country  to  the  colonies.  In  other  refpedts  the  commerce  was  left  on  the 
footing  on  which  it  was  placed  by  that  ft!(5tion,  perfedly  free,  except  in  the 
direft  trade  between  the  colony  and  the  parent  country.  It  is  worthy  of  re- 
mark that,  as  by  the  reference  mad6  in  the  explantaory  article  of  the  treaty 
ivith  Kuffim  to  the  IT.  5.  of  America^  it  was  fuppofed  that  thofe  ftatcs  and  Rxf^ 
Jia^  Denmarky2xA  Sweden^  had  a  comrfion  intereft  in  nentral  queftions,  ft)  it  wa» 
obvioufty  intended*,  from  the  ftnAilarity  of  fen ti men t  which  is  obiervable  bctweci* 
that  treaty  as  mentioned,and  the  report  of  the  advocate  general  above  mentioo- 
ed,to  place  all  the  parties  on  the  fame  footing.  After  thcfc  ads  of  the  Britifti 
government,  which  being  official  were  made  publick,  it  was  not  to  be  expe^ed 
that  any  greater  reft*raint  would  have  been  contemplated  by  it,  on  that  comr 
ttierce,  than  they  impofe  ;  that  an  inquiry  would  ever  have  been  made^ 
uot  whether  the  property  with  which  an  Amencati  vclTel  was  charged  belong- 
ed to  a  citizen  of  the  United  Sates  or  an  enemy,  but  whether  k  belonged  ta 
this  or  that  American  ;  an  inquiry  which  impofes  a  condition  which  it  ia  be- 
lieved that  no  independent  nation,  having  a  juft  fenfe  of  what  it  owes  to  Jts 
figJu^or  ito^bonour^  can  ever  comply  wiUi.    Much  Left  was  it  to  be  escpcdte^ 


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S3  Amsrican  rr*ATE  papers. 

that  fuch  a  rtftraint  would  hare  been  thought  of  afi^r  the  report  of  the  ccmi 
miilioners  above  adverted  to,  which  fermcd  to  have  placed  the  rights  of  the 
United  States  incontedibly  on  a  much  more  liberal,  and  as  is  Contcaded,  joS 
footing. 

It  is  proper  to  add,  that  the  decree  of  the  lords  commiflionei^  of  appeals ia 
the  cafe  of  the  FJ't^x  produce  the  fame  effc<ft  as  an  order  from  the  govcrnmoit 
Ifvould  have  done.  Prior  to  that  decree,  from  the  coinmrncemtnt  of  thf  wir, 
the  commerce  in  qiieftion  waspurfucd  by  the  citizens  of  the  United  States,  a 
has  been  already  obfcrved,  Without  moleftation.  It  is  prcfumable  that  till  tha 
his  majefty's  cruifers  were  induced  to  forbear  a  feizure,  by  fbe  lame  confidcTa- 
tion  which  induced  the  American  citizens  to  engage  in  the  commerce,  a  b 
lief  that  it  was  a  lawful  one.  The  fa(ft3  above  mentioned  were  cquaily  befoie 
the  partiesiand  it  is  not  furprifing  that  thty  /hould  have  drawn  the  liamecofr 
clufion  from  them.  That  decree,  howevtr,opencd  a  new  fcene.  It  certainly 
^avc  a  fignal  to  the  cruifers  to  commence  the  fcizu res  which  they  have  net 
foiled  to  do,  as  has  been  fuflSciently  felt  by  the  citizens  of  the  United  States, 
who  have  fuflfercd  under  it.  According  to  the  information  which  has  bfrt 
given  me,  about  fifty  vefTels  have  been  brought  into  the  ports  of  Great  Britain 
in  confequence  of  it,  arid  there  is  resfon  to  believe  that  the  (ame  fyflem  is  pur* 
fued  in  the  Weft-Indies  and  clfcwherc.  The  meafurc  is  the  more  to  be  complaiu- 
ed  of,  becauCe  G.  Britain  had,  in  perntitting  the  commerce  for  two  years, gir- 
ta  aiandiod  to  it  by  her  condu<5t»  and  nothing  had  occurred  to  create  a  fufpi* 
cion  that  her  fentiments  varied  from  her  conduA.  Had  that  been  tbecife 
or  had  (he  been  difpofed  to  change  her  cqndudt  in  that  rt:fpcA  towards  thcU. 
^ates,  it  might  reaibnably  have  been  expeded  that  fl)me  intinution  wonU 
have  been  given  of  it  before  the  meafurc  was  carried  into  effe<ft.  Betwfco 
powers  who  are  equally  deQrous  of  prefer  ving  the  relations  of  friendihip  witi 
each  other,  notice  might  in  all  fuch  cafes  be  expeded.  But  in  the  preiiict 
cafe  the  obligations  to  give  it  fcemed  to  be  peculiarly  ftrong.  The  exiftenccof 
a  negociation  which  had  been  fought  on  the  part  of  the  United  States  foroc 
confiderable  time  before  my  departure  for  Spain,  for  the  cxprcfs  purpofcof 
adjufting  amicably  and  fairly  all  fuch  queftions  between  the  two  nations,  and 
pioftponed  on  that  occafion  to  accomrmodate  the  views  of  his  majefty*5  govern* 
nient,  fumifbed  a  fuitable  opportunity  for  fuch  an  iotimatioo,  while  itcooU 
not  otherwife  than  increafe  the  claiin  to  it. 

In  this  communication  I  have  made  no  comment  on  the  difference  which  if 
obfervable  in  the  import  of  the  feveral  orders  which  regulated,  at  difieiwt 
times,  the  feieure  of  neutfal  veflfels,  fomc  of  which  were  more  moderate  than 
others.  It  is  proper,  however,  to  remark  here,  that  thofe  which  were 
iifued,  or  eteo  that  any  had  been  iifued  fincc  the  commencement  of  theprt- 
fent  war,  were  circumftances  not  known  till  very '  Jately  :  Ob  principle  it  ii 
acknowledged,  that  they  arc  to  be  viewed  in  the  fame  light,  and  it  hahceo 
my  object  to  examine  thcift  by  that  ftandard,  without  going  into  dcuili  or 
inaking  the  (hades  of  difference  between  them.  I  have  made  the  exaroinatioa 
with  that  freedom  and  candour  which  belong  to  afubject  of  very  high  impof 
tance  to  the  United  States,  the  refult  of  which  has  been,  as  I  prcfume,to 
IMrove,  that  all  the  orders  are  repugnant  to  the  jaw  of  nations,aad  that  the  late 
tondemnationt  which  have  revived  the  prcten^ons  on  the  part  of  Great  Bn- 
iainf  are  not  only  repugnant  to  that  law,  but  to  the  underftanding  which  it 
was  fuppofed  had-taken  place  between  the  two  powers,  relpeding  the  coo- 
Incroe  in  queftion. 

.  I  cannot  conclude  this  note  without  adverting  to  the  other  topicks  dcpcw* 
ing  between  our  governments  which  it  is  alfo  much  wifhed  to  adj/uft  at  tbtf 
time.  Thefe  are  well  known  to  your  lordfhip,  and  it  is  therefore  unnecrftajjf 
to  add  any  thing  on  them  at  preient.  With  a  view  to  peipetuate  the  fricwl* 
ihipofthe  two  nations,  no^unnece(rary  caufe  of  colli(k>n  (houW  be  leftopflj* 
Thofe  reverted  to,  are  believed  to  be  of  this  kind,  fuch  as  the  cafe  of  bound- 
^^thclmpreffincotaf(caiQcO|^ec.^cekisprdivaed  thencmbcuQnF 


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AMERICAN   STATE    PAPERS.  33 

confli^ng  intereft  between  them  oa  thofe  points.  The  general  commercial 
relation  may  then  be  adjufted  or  poftponed  as  m.iy  be  mod  conliftent  with  the 
views  of  his  majcfty's  govcmment.  On  that  point  alfo  it  is  believed  that  it 
will  not  be  dii^cult  to  make  fuch  an  arrangement  as,  by  giving  fuflicient  fcope 
to  the  refourcesy  to  the  induftry  and  the  enterprize  of  the  people  of  both  coun* 
tries,  may  prove  highly  and  reciprocally  advantageous  to  them.  In  the  to- 
pick  of  imprelTmenty  however,  the  motive  is  more  urgent.  In  that  line  the 
rights  of  the  United  States  have  been  fo  long  trampled  under  foot,  the  feel- 
ings of  humanity  in  refped  to  the  fuffcrcrs,  and  the  honour  of  their  govern- 
ment, even  in  their  own  ports,  fo  often  outraged,  that  the  aftonilhed  world 
may  begin  to  doubt,  whether  the  patience  with  which  thcfe  injuries  have  been 
borne  ought  to  be  attributed  to  generous  or  unworthy  motives  >  Whether 
the  United  States  merit  the  rank  to  which  in  other  refpe(5ts  they  are  juftly  en- 
titled among  independent  powers,  or  have  already,  in  the  very  morn  of  their 
political  career,  loft  their  energy,  and  become  degenerate.  The  United 
States  are  not  infenfible  that  their  condud  has  expofed  them  to  fuch  fufpicions, 
though  they  well  know  that  they  have  not  merited  them.  They  are  aware» 
firom  the  (imilarity  in  the  pcrfon,  in  the  manners,  and  above  all,  the  identity 
of  the  language,  which  is  common  to  the  people  of  both  nations,  that  the  fub- 
jedt  is  a  difficult  one  ;  they  are  equally  aware,  that  to  Great-Britain  alfo  it  is 
a  delicate  one,  and  they  have  been  willing  in  feeking  an  arrangement  of  this 
important  intereft,  to  give  a  proof,by  the  mode,  of  their  very  (incere  defire  to 
cherifh  the  relations  of  friendfhip  with  her.  I  have  only  to  add,  that  I  (hall 
be  happy  to  meet  your  lordfhip  on  thefe  points,  ^s  foon  as  you  can  make  it 
convenient  to  you.  I  have  the  honour  to  be»  with  high  conftdcration,  your 
lordihip's  moft  obedient  fervant. 

(Signed)  JAMES  MONROE. 


EXTRACT   OP   A     LETTER   FROM     THE     SECRETARY    OP     STATE     TO     MR. 
MONROE,  RELATIVE  TO    IMPRESSMENTS,  DATED  5TH  JANUARY,  1804. 

WE  confider  a  neutral  Rag,  on  the  high  feas,  as  a  (afeguard  to  thofe 
failing  under  it.  Great  Britain,  on  the  contrary,  aflcrts  a  right  to  fearch  for, 
and  feize  her  own  fubjects  ;  and  under  that  cover,  as  cannot  but  happen,  are 
often  feized  and  taken  off,  citizens  of  the  United  Stats,  and  citizens  or  fub- 
jeds  of  other  neutral  countries,  navigating  the  high  feas,  under  the  protec- 
tion of  the  American  flag. 

Were  the  right  of  Great  Britain,  in  this  cafe,  not  denied,  the  abufes  flow- 
ing from  it  would  juftify  the  United  States  in  claiming  and  expecting  a  dif- 
continuance  of  its  e:.  .'rcife.    But  the  right  is  denied,  and  on  the  bcft  grounds. 

Although  Great  Britian  has  not  yet  adopted,  in  the  fame  latitude  with  moft 
other  nations,  the  immunities  of  a  neutral  flag,  (he  will  not  deny  the  general 
freedom  of  the  high  feas,  and  of  neutral  ve^els  navigating  them,  with  fuch 
exceptions  only  as  are  annexed  to  it  by  the  law  of  nations.  She  muft  pro- 
duce, then  fuch  an  exception  in  the  law  of  nations,  in  favour  of  the  right  Ihe 
contends  for.  But  in  what  written  and  received  authority  will  flie  And  it  ? 
In  what  ufage  except  her  own  will  it  be  found  ?  She  will  find  in  both,  that  a 
neutral  Yeflel  does  not  prote^  certain  objedts  denominated  contraband  of 
war,  including  enemies  ferving  in  the  war,  nor  articles  going  into  a  blockaded 
port,  nor  as  (be  has  maintained,  and  as  we  have  not  contefted,  enemy's  pro* 
perty  of  any  kind.  But  no  where  will  (he  find  an  exception  to  this  fi-eedom 
of  the  feas,  and  of  neutral  flags,  which  juftifies  the  taking  away  of  any  per- 
ion   not  an  enemy,  in  military  fervice,  found  on  board  a  neutral  veflel. 

If  treaties,  Britifli  as  well  as  others,  are  to  be  confulted  on  this  fubjeA,  it 
will  equally  appear,  that  no  couoteoance  to  the  practice  can  be  found  in 

Vol.  III.  Appendix.        E 

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S4  A.irERICA!f  STATf:   fAPEHS. 

tbcm.  Whilft  they  admit  a  contraband  of  war,  by  enumerating  iti  articles, 
and  the  effect  of  a  real  blockadie  by  defining  it»  tn  no  inftance  do  they  affinn 
or  imply  a  right  in  any  fovcreign  to  enforce  his  claims  to  the  allegiance  of 
his  fubjects,  on  board  neutral  vefftls  on  the  high  Teas.  On  the  contrary, 
wlienever  a  belligerent  claim  againft  perfons  on  board  a  neutral  Teflel,  is  re- 
ferred to  \n  treaties,  enemies  m  military  fervicc  ftlonc  are  excepted  from  the 
general  immunity  of  perfons  in  that  fituation  ;  and  this  exception  coofirns 
the  immunity  of  thofe  i^ho  are  not  included  in  it. 

It  is  not  then  from  the  law  or  the  ufage  of  nations,  nor  fixjm  the  tenor  of 
treaties,  that  any  (an^ion  can  be  derived  for  the  practice  in  qu^ion.  Acd 
furely  it  will  not  be  pretended  that  the  fovereignty  of  any  nation  extendi,  in 
any  cafe  whatever,  beyond  its  own  dominions,  and  its  own  veffcls  oa  thehjgb 
feas.  Such  a  dodrine  would  give  juft  claim  to  all  nations,  and  more  than 
any  thine  would  countenance  the  imputation  of  afpiring  to  an  onivcr&l  en- 
pire  of  tr^e  feas.  It  would  be  the  le(s  admiflible  too,  as  it  woold  be  appiia- 
ble  to  times  of  peace,  as  well  as  to  times  of  war,  and  to  property  as  well  as  to 
perfons.  If  the  law  of  allegiance,  which  is  a  municipal  law,  be  in  force  at  all  on 
the  high  fcas,  on  board  foreign  Teflels^  it  muft  be  fo  at  all  times  there,  asitii 
within  its  acknowledged  fphcre.  If  the  reafon  sieged  for  it  be  good  in  time 
of  war,  namely,  that  the  fovereign  has  then  a  right  to  the  feiTicc  of  all  bi» 
Aibjt^s,  it  muft  be  good  at  all  times,  becaufe  at  all  times,  he  has  the  lame 
right  to  their  fervice.  War  is  not  the  only  occalion  for  which  he  may  want 
their  fcrvices,  nor  is  external  danger  the  only  danger  againft  which  their  fcr- 
vices  may  be  required  for  his  fccurity.  Again  ;  if  the  authority  of  a  monif 
cipal  law  can  operate  on  perfons  in  foreign  Tefiels  on  the  high  kas,  becaofe 
within  the  dominion  of  their  fovereign,  they  would  be  ibbjed  to  that  law, 
and  arc  violating  that  law  by  being  in  that  fituation,  how  reje^  the  inference 
that  the  authority  of  a  municipal  law  may  equally  be  enforced,  on  board  for- 
eign veflels,  on  the  high  feas,  againii  articles  of  property  exported  in  violatioa 
of  fuch  a  law,  or  belonging  to  the  country  from  which  it  was  exported  ?  And 
thus  every  comnierdjri  regulation,  in  titfie  of  peace  too,  as  well  as  of  war, 
would  be  made  obligatory  on  foreigners  and  their  veReU,  not  only  whilit 
within  the  dontiTHon  of  the  fovereign  making  the  rcgalation,  but  in  every  fca, 
ind  at  every  diftance  where  an  armed  veflcl  might  meet  with  them.  Another 
inference  deferves  attention.  If  the  fubjeds  of  one  fovereign  may  be  uktn 
by  force  from  the  vefTels  of  another,  on  the  high  (eas,  the  right  of  taking 
them  when  found,  implies  the  right  of  fearching  for  them  i  a  vexation  of 
commerce,  efpcctally  in  tinxe  of  peace,  which  has  not  yet  been  attempted, 
and  which  for  that  as  well  as  other  reafons,  may  be  regarded  as  contradifting 
the  principle  from  which  it  would  ftow. 

Taking  reafon  and  jufHce  for  the  tefts  of  this  pradice,  it  is  pcculi^irly 
indefenfible  ;  becaufe  it  deprives  the  deareft  rights  of  perfons  of  a  regular 
trial,  to  which  the  moft  incottfiderable  article  of  property  captured  on  ifc« 
high  feas  is  entitled  ;  and  leaves  their  deftiny  t«^  the  will  of  an  officer,  lome- 
times  cruel,  often  ignorant,  and  generally  intcrefted  by  bis  wantof  ra«incrs, 
in  his  own  decifions.  Whenever  property  found  in  a  peiitr;d  vcflcl  is  f«P" 
pofed  to  be  liable  on  any  grounds  to  capture  and  condemnation,  the  ii'k  in 
all  cafes  is  that  the  queftion  (hall  not  be  decided  by  the  captor,  but  be  carried 
before  a  legal  tribunal,  where  a  regular  trial  may  be  had,  and  where  the 
captor  himftlf  is  liable  ta  damages,  for  an  abu(e  of  his  power.  Can  it  be 
rcafonable  then,  or  juft,  that  a  belKgerent  commander  who  is  thus  itflnd- 
ed,  and  thus  refponfitrfe  in  a  cafe  of  mere  pn^rty  of  trivial  amount,  (honw 
be  permitted,  without  recurring  to  any  tribunal  whatever,  to  examine  the 
crew  of  a  neutral  vefTel,  to  decide  the  important  queftion  of  their  rcfpc^^ 
allegiances,  and  to  carry  that  decilion  into  mftant  execution,  by  forcing  every 
individual  he  may  chufe,  into  a  fervice  abhorrent  -to  his  feelings,  cutting  oi^ 
off  fi-om  his  moft  tei>der  connexions,  expofing  his  mind  and  his  perfoo  to  the 
moft  humiliating  diiciplinc,  and  his  life  it&lf  to  the  grcatefi  dangers  I  B.cm, 


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AMERICAN  STATE   PAPERS.  35 

jufticct  and  humanity  unit«  in  protefting  againft  To  extravagant  a  proceeding. 
And  what  is  the  pretext  for  it  ?  It  is  that  the  fimilarity  of  language  and  of 
features  between  American  citizens  and  Britifh  fubjeds,  are  fuch  as  not  eafiiy . 
to  be  diftinguiihed  ;  and  that  without  this  arbitral y  and  fummarv  authority 
to  make  the  diTlindion,  Britifh  fiibjedts  would  efcape*  under  the  name  of 
American  citizens,  from  the  duty  which  they  owe  to  their  fovercign.  Js  then 
the  difficulty  of  didinguifiiing  a  mariner  of  oue  country  from  the  mariner  of 
the  other,  and  the  importance  of  his  fervices,  a  good  plea  for  referring  the 
queftion  whether  be  belongs  to  the  one  or  to  the  othtr,  to  an  arbitrary  deci- 
fion  on  the  the  fpot,  by  an  intcrefted  and  unrefponiible  officer  f  In  all  other 
cafes,  the  difficulty  and  the  importance  of  queilions  are  oonfidcred  ae  reafons 
for  requiring  greater  care  and  formality  in  inveftigating  them,  and  greater 
fecunty  for  a  right  deciQon  of  them.  To  fay  that  precautions  of  this  fort 
are  incompatible  with  the  objed,  is  to  admit  that  the  obje<5t  is  unjuftifiable  ; 
fince  the  only  means  by  which  it  can  be  purfued  are  fuch  as  cannot  he 
juftified. 

The  evil  takes  a  deeper  die,  when  viewed  in  its  pr.idice  as  well  as  its  prin- 
ciples. Were  it  allowable  that  Britifh  fubjedts  (houkl  ^  taken  out  of  Ameri- 
can veffels  on  the  high  feas,  it  might  at  lead  be  required  that  the  proof  of 
their  allegiance  fhould  lie  on  the  Britifh  fide.  This  obvious  and  juft  rule  is, 
however,  revcrfed  ;  and  every  Teaman  on  board,  though  going  from  an  Ameri- 
can port,  and  failing  under  the  American  flag,  and  fometimes  even  fpeaking 
an  idiom  proving  him  not  to  be  a  Britifh  fubje^,  is  prefumed  to  be  fuch,  unlefs 
Diewn  to  be  an  American  citizen.  It  may  fafely  be  affirmed  that  this  is  an 
outrage  and  an  indignity  which  has  no  precedent,  and  which  Great  Britain 
would  be  among  the  laft  nations  in  the  world  to  fuller,  if  offered  to  her  own 
fubjeds,  and  her  own  flag.  Nor  is  it  always  againA  the  right  piefumption 
alone  which  is  in  favour  of  the  citizenAiip  correfponding  with  the  dag,  that 
the  violence  is  committed.  Not  un£requently  it  takes  place  in  defiance  of 
the  mofl  pofitive  proof,  certified  in  due  form  by  an  American  officer.  Let  it 
not  be  faid,  tbat«  in  granting  to  American  icamen  this  protection  for  theic 
rights  as  fuch,  the  point  is  yielded*  that  the  proof  lies  on  the  American  fide» 
and  that  the  want  of  it  in  the  prefcribed  form  juflifics  the  inference  that  the 
ieamen  is  not  of  American  allegiance.  It  is  diftini^ly  to  be  underitood,  that 
the  certificate,  ufually  caUed  a  pni>tcdion  to  American  feamen,  is  not  meant 
to  protect  them  under  their  own,  or  even  any  other  neutral  flag  on  the  high 
4ea6.  We  can  never  admit,  that  in  fuch  a/ltuation,  any  other  protedion  is 
required  for  them,  than  the  neutral  flag  itfelf  on  the  high  feas.  The  docu- 
ment is  given  to  prove  their  real  charadcr,  in  fituations  to  which  neither  the  law 
of  nations,  nor  the  law  of  their  own  country,  are  applicable ;  in  other  words^ 
to  protetft  them  within  the  jurifdidion  of  the  Britifh  laws,  and  to  fecure  t9 
them,  within  every  other  jurifdidion  the  lights  and  immunities  due  to 
them.  If,  in  the  courfie  of  their  navigation  eve»on  the  high  feas,  the  docu- 
ment fliould  have  the  effeA  of  repelling  wrongs  of  any  fort,  it  is  an  inciden- 
tal advantage  only,  of  which  they  avail  themfe Ives,  and  is  by  no  means  to  be 
mifconftrucd  into-  a  right  to  exad  fuch  a  prooff  or  to  make  any  diiadvanto- 
geous  inference  from  the  wai^t  of  it. 

Were  it  even  admitted  that  certificates  for  protection  mi^lvt  be  juftly  re- 
quired in  time  of  war  from  American  fean»en,  they  could  only  be  required 
in  cafes  where  the  lapfe  of  time  from  its  commencement  had  given  an  oppor- 
tunity fer  the  American  Teamen  to  provide  themfelves  with  i]wch  a  document. 
Yet  it  is  cenain,  that,  in  a  variety  of  inftauces,  Icamen  have  been  imprefTcd 
from  American  vefTcIs,  on  the  plea  that  they  had  not  this  proof  of  citizcn- 
iliip,  when  the  dates  and  places  of  th«  impreifments  demonft rated  the  iro- 
poflibility  of  their  knowing 9  in  time  to  provide  the  proof,  that  a  Aate  of  war 
had  I'eJKlcred  it  nectlTary. 

Whether,  therefore,  we  confult  the  law  of  nations,  the  tenor  of  treaties,  or 
ibf:  didates  of  i-eafoo  and  jufticc^  no  warrant*  no  preto^t  can  be  found  £or  the 


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36  AMERICAN  STATE   PAPEllS. 

Britifh  pradice  of  making  impreflments  from  American  ▼eflels  on  the  high  fetiu 
Great -Britain  has  the  lefs  to  fay  in  excufe  for  this  pradice,  as  it  is  in  dircd 
contradi^on  to  the  principles  on  which  (he  proceeds  in  other  caics.  Whilft 
fhe  claims  and  feizes  on  the  high  feas,  her  own  fubjcds  voluntarily  (inrving  in 
American  veffels,  fhe  has  conftantly  given,  when  (he  could  give,  as  areaibn 
for  not  difcharging  from  her  fcrvice  American  citizens^  thai  they  had  volun- 
tarily engaged  in  it.  Nay,  more,  whilft  (he  imprelTes  her  own  fubjeds  from 
the  American  fervice,  although  they  may  have  been  fettled  and  manried,  and 
even  naturalifed  in  the  United  Sutes,  (he  conftantly  refufes  to  releafe  from 
ber's,  American  citizens  impre(red  into  it,  whenever  (he  can  give  for  a  rcsibn, 
that  they  were  either  fettled  or  married  within  her  dominions.  Thus,  when 
the  voluntary  confcnt  of  the  individual  favours  her  pietenfions,  (he  pleads  the 
validity  of  that  confent.  When  the  voluntary  confent  of  the  individual  (tandi 
in  the  way  of  her  pretentions,  it  goes  for  nothing  !  When  marriage  or  rcfi* 
dence  can  be  pleaded  in  her  favour,  (he  avails  hcrlclf  of  the  plea.  When 
marriage  and  refidence,  and  even  naturalization  are  againft  her,  no  refpcd 
whatever  is  paid  to  either !  She  takes  by  force  her  own  fubjefts,  voluntarilf 
ferving  in  our  vefTels  ;  (he  keeps  by  force  American  citizens,  involuntarily 
fcrving  in  hers.    More  flagrant  inconfiftencies  cannot  be  imagined. 

Notwithftanding  the  powerful  motives  which  ought  to  be  felt  by  the  Britift 
government  to  rclinqui(h  a  practice  which  expoles  it  to  fo  many  reproaches, 
It  is  forefeen  that  obje^ions  of  different  forts  will  be  preflTed  on  you.  Yon 
will  be  told  firft,  of  the  great  number  of  Britifh  (eamen  ro  the  American  tradci 
and  of  the  neceflTity  for  their  fcrvices  in  time  of  war  and  danger.  Secondly, 
of  the  right  and  the  prejudice  of  the  Britifli  nation,  with  refpcd  to  what  are 
called  the  Briti(h  or  narrow  feas,  where  its  domain  would  hi  abandoned  hj 
the  general  (tipulation  required.  Thirdly,  of  the  wfc  which  wouW  be  made 
of  fuch  a  fanduary  as  that  of  American  ve(rel8,  for  defcrtions,  and  traitorow 
communications  tb  her  enemies,  efpecially  acrofs  the  channel  to  France. 

ift.  With  refpect  to  the  Britifh  feamcn  fcrving  in  our  trade,  it  may  be  ^^ 
marked,  firfl,  that  the  number,  though  confidcrablc,  is  probably  left  than  mar 
be  fuppofed.  Secondly,  that  what  is  wrong  in  itfclf  cannot  be  inadcri«htDy 
confiderations  of  expediency  or  advantage.  Thirdly,  that  it  is  proved  by  the 
faa,  that  the  number  of  real  Britifh  fubjcfts  gained  by  the  praAicc  in  qj^ 
tion,  is  of  inconfiderable  importance,  even  in  the  fcalc  of  advantage.  Joc 
annexed  report  to  congrefs  on  the  fubjeft  of  imprefTrocnti,  with  the  additKJ 
of  fuch  cafes  as  may  be  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Erving,  will  verify  the  rcoark 
in  its  application  to  the  prefent  war.  The  ftatement  made  by  his  prtdeccflor 
during  the  laft  war,  and  which  is  alfo  annexed,  is  in  the  fame  view  ftifl  nwre 
conclufive  The  ftatement  comprehends  not  only  all  the  applications  made 
by  him  in  the  firft  inflancc,  for  the  liberation  of  impreffed  feamen,  ^^'^ 
the  month  of  June,  1797,  and  September,  i8€)i»  but  many  alfo  which  nw 
been  made  previous  to  thh  agency  by  Mr.  Pinckncy  and  Mr.  Kjngf  ^ 
which  it  was  necefTary  for  him  to  renew.  Thefc  applications  therefore  may 
fairly  be  confidcred  as  embracing  the  greater  part  of  the  period  of  the  war } 
and  as  applications  are  known  to  be  pretty  indifbriminately  made,  ^^*^y?*J 
further  be  conpdercd  as  embracing,  if  not  the  whole,  the  far  g'**^^  P'Jv? 
fhe  imprcfTments,  thofe  of  Britifh  fubjects  as  well  as  others.  Yet  the  rtm 
exhibits  1,059  cafes  only,  and  of  this  number  loa  feamen  ^^^J*^^^^^ 
being  Britifh  fubjeAs,  which  is  lefs  than  i-aoth  of  the  number  iniprcfled,a» 
1,141  difchargcd  or  ordered  to  be  fo,  as  not  being  Britifh  fubjefts,  ^rr:^ 
more  than  half  of  the  whole  number,  leaving  805  for  further  proof,  ^|?  |°J 
ftrongeft  prefumption  that  the  greater  part,  if  not  the  whole,  ^^^^^^^  ^g 
or  other  aliens,  whofc  proof  of  citizenfhip  had  been  loft  or  ^^^^  jj, 
whofe  fituation  would  account  for  the  difficulties  and  delays  in  P'^JJ^/'L^ 
So  that  it  is  certain,  that  for  all  the  Britifh  feamen  gained  by  thii  vioWi  P^ 
cceding,  more  than  an  equal  number  who  were  not  fo  were  the  V^^L^ 
b  highly  probable  that  for  every  Britifh,  feaman  fo  gaincdi  a  numoer  or 


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AMERICAN  STATS  PAPERS.  37 

€r8,  lefs  tban  xo  for  one,  muft  have  been  the  yiAimsy  and  it  is  even  pofiihle 
that  this  number  may  have  exceeded  the  proportion  of  20  to  one. 

It  cannot  therefore  be  doubted,  that  the  acquifition  of  Britifh  Teamen  by 
thefe  impreffments,  whatever  may  be  its  advantage,  is  loft  in  the  wrong  done 
to  Americans  ignorantly  or  wilfully  miftaken  for  Britiih  fubjcds,  in  the  jeal* 
oufy  and  ill-will  excited  among  all  maritime  nations  by  an  adherence  to  fuch 
a  pra^ice»  and  in  the  particular  provocation  to  meafures  of  redrefs  on  the 
part  of  the  United  States,  not  lefs  difagreeable  to  them,  than  embarrailing  to 
Gi*eat-Britain,  and  which  may  threaten  the  good  underftanding  which  ought 
to  be  faithfully  cultivated  by  both.  The  copy  of  a  bill  brought  into  Coa« 
grefs  under  the  influence  of  violations  committed  on  our  flag,  gives  force  to 
this  latter  coniidei-ation.  Whether  it  will  pafs  into  a  law,  and  at  the  prtient 
feflion,  is  more  than  can  yet  be  faid.  As  there  is  every  reafon  to  believe  that 
it  has  been  propofed  with  reluctance,  it  will  probably  not  be  purfued  into  ef* 
fed,  if  any  hope  can  be  fupported  of  a  remedy,  by  an  amicable  arrangement 
between  the  two  nations. 

There  is  a  further  confideration  which  out  to  have  wefght  in  this  queftion* 
Although  the  Britiih  fcamen  employed  in  carrying  on  American  commerce* 
be  in  fome  refpeds  loft  to  their  own  nation,  yet  fuch  is  the  intimate  and  ex* 
tenfive  connexion  of  this  commerce,  dired  and  circuitous,  with  the  com- 
merce, the  manufadures,  the  revenue  and  the  general  refources  of  the  Britiih 
nation,  that  in  other  refpedts  its  mariners,  on  board  American  veflels,  may 
truly  be  MA  to  be  rendering  it  the  moit  valuable  fervices.  It  would  not  be 
extravagant  to  make  it  a  queftion,  whether  Great  Britain  would  not  fuffer 
more  by  withdrawing  her  £eamen  from  the  merchant  veflels  of  the  United 
States,  than  her  enemies  would  fuifer  from  the  addition  of  them  to  the  crews 
of  her  ihips  of  war  and  cruifers. 

Should  any  diificulty  be  itarted  concerning  feamen  born  within  the  Britiih 
dominions,  and  naturalized  by  the  United  States  fince  the  treaty  of  1783,  yoa 
may  remove  It  by  obferving  :  Firft,  that  very  few,  if  any,  fuch  naturaliza* 
tions  can  take  place,  the  law  here  requiring  a  preparatory  refidence  of  five 
years,  with  notice  of  the  intention  to  become  a  citizen  entered  of  record  two 
years  before  the  lait  neceifary  formality,  befides  a  regular  proof  of  good  mof 
ad  charader,  conditions  little  likely  to  be  complied  with  by  ordinary  fearfar* 
ing  perfons.  S^ondly,  that  a  difcontinuance  of  impreifments  on  the  high 
leas  will  preclude  an  adual  colltfion  between  the  interfering  claims.  Witbia 
the  jurifdidion  of  each  nation,  and  in  their  refpedive  veflels  on  the  high  featy 
each  will  enforce  the  allegiance  which  it  claims.  In  other  fituations  the 
individuals  doubly  claimed,  will  be  within  a  jurifdidion  independent  of  both 
nations. 

Secondly.  The  Britiih  pretenfions  to  domain  over  the  narrow  feas  are  (b 
obfolete,  and  (6  indefenfible,  that  they  never  would .  have  occurred  as  a  pro* 
bable  objedion  in  this  cafe,  if  they  had  not  adually  fruitrated  an  arrangement 
fettled  by  Mr.  King  with  the  Britiih  miniilry  on  the  fubjed  of  impreflments 
from  American  veflels  on  the  high  ieas.  At  the  moment  when  the  articles 
were  expeded  to  be  figned,  an  exception  of  the  •*  narrow  feas"  was  urged 
and  inhfted  on  by  lord  St.  Vincent ;  and  being  utterly  inadmiifible  on  our 
part,  the  negociation  was  abandoned. 

The  objedion  in  itielf  has  certainly  not  the  llighteil  foundation.  The  thnc 
has  been,  indeed,  when  England  not  only  claimed,  but  exercifed  pretenfions 
Scarcely  inferioiir  to  full  fovereignty  ovcjr  the  feas  furrounding  the  Britiih 
Iflcs,  and  ev^n  as  far  as  Cape  Finifterre  to  the  fouth,  and  Van  Statcn,  in  Nor- 
way, to  the  north.  It  was  a  time,  hoiK'ever,  when  reafon  had  little  ihare  in 
determining  the  lawt  >nd  the  mtercourfe  of  nations  ;  when  power  alone  de- 
cided queftions  of  right,  and,  when  the  ignorance  and  want  of  concert 
among  other  maritime  countries  facilitated  fuch  an  ufurpation.  The  progrefs 
Of  civilization  and  tnfornuition  has  produced  a  change  in  all  thofe  refpeds,  and 
^  priacipic  in  the  cod^  of  publick  Xslw,  is  at  prcicnt  better  cftablifhed,  thap 


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St  AMERICAy  STATS   PAPERS. 

the  coaimoB  fircedon  of  the  fets  heyond  a  tery  limited  ditance  &om  tk 
territories  waihed  hj  them*  This  diftancc  is  not,  indeed,  fixed  with  abfolute 
precifion.  It  is  yaried  in  a  fmall  degree  by  written  anthonties,  and  perbapi 
it  may  he  reafonably  varied  in  fome  degree  by  local  peculiarities.  But  the 
greateft  diftance  which  would  now  be  Uftened  to  any  where,  would  nuke  a 
iba^ll  proportion  of  the  narrowed  part  of  the  narroweft  feas  in  queftioo. 

What  are,  in  fadt»thc  prerogatives  claimed  and  exeiciiSed  by  Great  Bntaii 
•ver  thefe  fcas  ?  If  they  were  really  a  part  of  her  domain,  her  aulboritf 
would  be  the  fame  there  as  within  her  other  domain.  Foreign  vefieU  woold 
be  fubjed  to  all  the  laws  and  regulations  framed  for  them,  as  much  as  if  thef 
were  within  the  harbours  or  rivers  of  the  country.  Kotfaing  of  this  ibit  it 
pretended.  Nothing  of  this  fort  would  be  tolerated.  The  only  inftances  is 
which  thefe  feas  are  diftinguifhed  from  other  feas,  or  ia  which  Great  Britaio 
enjoyt  within  them,  any  diilindtion  over  other  nations,  arCf  6rft,  the  compii' 
ment  paid  by  other  flags  to  tier's.  Secondly,  the  extenfion  of  her  territoriil 
jurifdidion  in  certain  cafes  to  the  distance  of  four  leagnes  finomthe  coaft.  The 
firit  is  a  relick  of  ancient  ufurpation,  which  has  thus  long  e£;:aped  the  corrtc- 
tion,  which  modem  and  more  enlightened  times  have  applied  to  other  yfar- 
pations.  The  prerogative  has  been  often  contefted,  however,  even  at  the  a- 
penfe  of  bloody  wars,  and  is  ftill  borne  with  ill  will  and  impatience  by  ha 
neighbours.  At  the  la(t  treaty  of  peace  at  Amiens,  the  abolition  of  it  wai 
repeatedly  and  ftrongly  preiTed  by  France  ;  and  it  is  not  improbable,  that  at 
»o  remote  day  it  will  follow  the  fate  of  the  title  of  «•  King  of  France,"  lb 
long  worn  by  the  Britifb  monarchs,  and  at  length  fo  properly  facrtficcd  to 
the  leflbns  of  a  magnanimous  wifdom.  As  far  as  this  homage  to  the  Britift 
flag  has  any  foundation  at  prefent,  it  refts  merely  on  long  uf^  and  loiigac- 
quiefcencc,  which  are  conflrued,  as  in  a  few  other  cafes  of  maritime  daios, 
into  the  cfMt  of  a  general  though  tacit  contention.  The  fiicond  inftaoce  is 
the  extenfion  of  the  territorial  jurildidion  to  four  leagues  firom  the  ihort. 
This  too,  as  for  as  the  diftance  may  exceed  that  which  is  generally  aliowdi 
refts  on  t  Kke  foundation,  ftrengthened,  perhaps,  by  the  local  (adlityol 
Unnggling,  and  the  peculiar  intereft  which  Great  Britain  has  in  preveotisg  a 
pradice  affeding  fo  deeply  her  whole  fyftem  of  revenue,  commerce,  m 
manufadtures  :  whilft  the  limitation  itfelf  to  focr  leagues,  neceflkrily  impUety 
that  beyond  that  diftance  no  territorial  jurifdidion  is  aflumed. 

But  whatever  may  be  the  origin  or  the  value  of  thefe  prerogatires  oicr 
foreign  flags  in  one  cafe«  and  within  a  limited  portion  of  thefe  feas  io  aaothcTi 
it  is  obvious  that  neither  of  them  will  be  violated  by  the  exemptioo  of  A« 
flierican  veflels  from  impreflmentsy  which  are  no  wife  conne^ed  with  cither; 
having  never  been  made  on  the  pretext  cither  of  withholding  the  wortol 
homage  to  the  Britifh  flag,  or  of  (mugeling  in  defiance  of  fintifh  laws. 

ThU  extenfion  of  the  Britifh  law  to  tour  leagues  from  the  Ihore,  is  inkaU 
from  an  ad  of  parliament  pafled  in  the  year  1736  (9  G.  z  c.  35)  the  term* of 
which  comprehend  all  veflels  foreign  as  well  as  Britifli*  it  is  poffibk  bow- 
ever,  that  the  former  are  conftniAively  excepted.  Should  your  inquiries af- 
certain  this  to  be  the  cafe,  you  will  find  yoorfelf  on  better  ground,  than  the 
conceflion  here  made.  %  ^ 

With  refpea  to  the  compliment  paid  to  the  BriUfe  flag,  H  is  alfo  poiBb^ 
that  more  is  here  conceded  than  you  may  find  to  be  neeeflfary.  After  tbe 
peace  of  1783  this  compliment  was  peremptorily  -witMKld  by  France,  in 
ipite  of  the  remonftrances  of  Great  Britain  ;  and  it  remaias  for  your  ioqiurTi 
whether  it  did  not  continue  to  be  refiiM,  notwithftanding  the  £aihire  at 
▲miens  to  obtain  from  Great  Britain  a  formal  renunciasioa  of  the  claifli* 

From  every  view  of  the  fubjed,  it  is  reafonable  to  expeft  that  the  exccptioa 
of  the  narrow  feas,  from  the  ftipulation  agarnft  imprefiments,  will  not  he  in- 
flexibly maintained.  Should  It  be  fo,  your  negotiation  will  be  at  ao  «sj; 
The  truth  is,  that  fo  great  a  proportion  of  our  trade,  direA  and  circuitous,  pw* 
e«  through  thofc  chaaneli*  and  foch  is  its  peculi4r  expofure  in  them  to  tl)c 


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AMERICAN  STAt£   PAPERS.  39 

wrong  praAifcd,  that  with  fuch  an  exception,  any  remedy  would  be  very  par- 
tial. And  we  can  never  confent  to  purchafe  a  partial  remedy,  by  confirming 
a  general  evil,  and  by  jflibjeding  ourlelves  to  our  own  reproaches,  as  well  av 
to  thofe  of  other  nations. 

Third,  It  appears,  as  wcH  by  a  letter  from  Mr.  Thomtom,  in  anfwer  to 
one  from  me,  of  both  which  copies  arc  enclofed,  as  from  converfations  with 
Mr.  Merry,  that  the  facility  which  would  be  given,  particularly  in  the  Britifli 
channel,  by  the  immunity  claimed  for  American  veffels,  to  the  efcape  of  trai- 
tors, and  the  defertion  cff  others  whofc  fervices  in  the  time  of  war  may  be 
particularly  important  to  an  enemy,  forms  one  of  the  pleas  for  the  Britiih 
pra<5tice  of  examining  American  crewSy  and  will  be  one  of  the  objedions  to 
a  formal  relinquifhraent  of  it. 

This  plea,  like  all  others,  admits  a  folid  and  fatisfadlory  reply.  In  the 
firft  place*  if  it  could  prevail  at  all  againft  the  neutral  claim,  it  would  author- 
ize the  feizure  of  the  perfons  defcribed  only,  and  in  veflcls  bound  to  a  boftile 
country  only  ;  whereas  the  pradice  of  impreffing  is  applied  to  perfons,  few 
or  any  of  whom  are  alleged  to  be  of  either  defcription,  and  to  vcflcls 
whitherfoever  bound,  even  to  Great  Britain  herfelf.  In  the  next  place*  it  if 
not  only  a  prefmnce  of  a  fmaller  objeA  on  one  fide  to  a  greater  objc<ft  on 
the  other  ;  but  a  facrifice  of  right  on  one  fide  to  expediency  on  the  other  fide* 


MESSAGE  FROM  THE  PRBSIDENT  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES,  COMMUKI- 
CATING  DISCOVERIES  MADE  IN  EXPLORING  THE  MISSOURI,  RED  RIV- 
ER, AND  WASHITA,  BY  CAPTAINS  LEWIS  ANB  CLARK,  DR.  SIBLSYy 
AND  MR.  DUNBAR,  WITH  A  STATISTICAL  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  COUN- 
TRIES   ADJACENT. 

To  the  Senmte  and  Houfe  of  Reprefen' 
tati'ves  of  the  United  Staiej. 
IN  purfuance  of  a  raeafure  propofed  to  Congrefs  by  a  mclfagc  of  January 
18th,  1803,  and  fandtioned  by  their  appropriation  for  carrying  it  into  execu- 
tion, captain  Meriwether  Lewis,  of  the  firft  regiment  of  infantry,  was  ap- 
pointed, with  a  party  of  men,  to  explore  the  river  Miflburi,  from  its  mouth 
to  its  fource,  and,  eroding  the  highlands  by  the  (hortcft  portage,  to  feek  the 
beft  water  conHnunication  thence  to  the  Pacific  ocean  ;  and  lieutenant  Clarke 
was  appointed  iecond  in  command.  Thev  were  to  enter  into  conference 
with  the  Indian  nations  on  their  route,  with  a  view  to  the  e(lab1i(hment  of 
commerce  with  them.  They  entered  the  MiflTouri,  Afay  14th,  1804,  and  on 
the  firft  of  November  took  up  their  winter  quarters  near  the  Mandan  towns, 
1609  miles  above  the  mouth  of  the  river,  in  latitude  47  deg.  ai  min.  47  fee. 
north,  and  longitude  99  deg.  14  min.  45  fee.  weft  fi'om  Greenwich.  On  the 
8tli  of  April,  1805,  they  proceeded  up  the  river  in  purfuance  of  the  objects 
prefcribed  to  them.  A  letter  of  the  preceding  day,  April  7,  from  captain 
Lewis,  is  herewith  communicated.  During  his  ftay  among  the  Mandans,  he 
had  been  able  to  lay  down  the^^ffinburi,  according  to  courfcs  and  diftances 
taken  on  his  pafTage  up  it,  correded  by  frequent  obfervatlons  of  longitude  ' 
and  latitude  ;  and  to  add  to  the  actual  furvey  of  this  portion  of  the  river,  a 
general  map  of  the  country  between  the  Millifippi  and  Pacific,  from  the  34th 
to  the  54th  degrees  of  latitude.  Thefc  additions  are  from  information  col- 
le^d  from  Indians  with  whom  he  had  opportunities  of  communicating,  dur- 
ing his  journey  and  refidence  with  them.  Copies  of  this  map  are  now  pre- 
fented  to  both  boufes  of  Congrefs.  With  thefc  I  communicate  aifo  a  (latifti- 
cal  view,  procured  and  forwarded  by  him»  of  the  Indian  nations  inhabiting 
the  territory  of  Louifiana,  and  the  countries  adjacent  to  its  northern  and  wel^- 
em  borders ;  of  their  commeic^  and  of  other  ioterelting  circumdances  ref* 
peeing  them. 


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40  AMERICAN  STATE    PAPERS. 


Fchruarj%  X9»  i8o6. 


lomplcteas  may  be,  of  the  Indians 
[ippi,  I  add  dodor  Sibley's  account 
ritory  of  Orleans. 

erfoQy  an  account  of  the  Red  river, 
»eea  able  to  colled. 
Table  preparation,  in  the  purpofe  of 
r,  in  the  fummer  of  1804,  it  was 
t  year  in  procuring  a  knowrledge  of 
the  Waihita.  This  was  undertaken 
Natchez,  a  citizen  of  diftinguiflied 
o  aid  US9  with  his  diGnterefted  and 
tefe  enterpnzes.  He  afcended  fhe 
t,  in  latitude  34  deg.  31  min.  4  fee 
;  from  Greenwich,  taking  its  cour&s 
Teoucnt  celeftidl  obfcrvations.  Ex- 
\  or  his  map  of  the  river,  from  its 
the  prefent  communications.  The 
now  commencing. 

TH  :  JEFFERSON. 


JSxtraS  of  a  Utter  from  Captain  Meriwether  Lewis  to  the  Prefident  of  the 
United  States^  dated 

Fort  Man  dan,  Jprih  lythf  1805. 
Dear  5/r, 

Herewith  enclofcd  you  will  receive  an  invoice  of  certain  articles,  which 
I  have  forwarded  to  you  from  this  place.  Among  other  articles  you  will  ob- 
ierve,  by  reference  to  the  invoice,  67  fpecimens  of  earths,  falts,  and  minerals, 
and  60  Specimens  of  plants  ;  thefe  are  accompanied  by  their  rcfpedive  labels^ 
cxpreiiing  the  days  on  which  obtained,  places  where  found,  and  alfo  their 
▼irtues  and  properties,  when  known.  By  means  of  thefe  labels,  reference 
may  be  madC'to  the  chart  of  the  Miflburi,  forwarded  to  the  fecretary  of  war, 
on  which  the  encampment  of  each  day  has  been  carefully  marked  :  thus  the 
places  at  which  thefe  fpecimcns  have  been  obtstned,  may  be  eafily  pointed 
out,  or  again  found,  (hould  any  of  them  prove  valuable  to  the  community 
on  further  invefligation. 

You  will  alfo  receive  herewith  enclofcd,  a  part  of  capt.  Clarke's  private 
journal ;  the  other  part  you  will  find  enclofcd  in  a  feparate  tin  box.  This 
journal  will  ferve  to  give  you  the  daily  details  of  our  progrefs  and  tranfic- 
tions. 

I  fhall  difpatch  a  canoe  with  three  perhaps  four  perfons  from  the  extreme 
navigable  point  of  the  Miflburi,  or  the  portage  between  this  river  and  the 
Columbia  river,  as  cither  may  firft  happen.  By  the  return  of  this  canoe,  I 
fhall  fend  you  my  journal,  and  fomc  one  or  two  of  the  beft  of  thofc  keprt  by 
my  men.  I  have  fcnt  a  journal  kept  by  one  of  the  fergeants,  to  captain  Stod- 
dard, my  agent  at  St.Louis,  in  order  as  much  as  poflible  to  multiply  the  chan- 
ces of  faving  fomething.  We  have  encouraged  our  men  to  keep  joomais, 
and  kwcn  of  them  do,  to  whom  in  this  refped  we  give  every  affiftanoe  is  our 
power. 

I  have  tranfmitted  to  the  fecretary  at  war  every  tnformation  rrlative  to 
the  geography  of  the  country  which  we  poflefs,  together  with  a  view  of  the 
Indian  nations,  containing  information  relative  to  them,  on  thofc  points  swth 
which  I  conceived  it  important  that  the  government  fhooldbeinfbfmed.' 

By  reference  to  the  mufler  rolls  forwarded  to  the  war  depSttntetft,  ytw  %fll 
fee  theftate  of  the  party  ;  in  addition  to  which  we  have  tj^o  Ulflfyteie»8,onc 
negro  man,  fervant  to  capt.  Clarke  ;  one  Indian  woman,  wife  to  one  of  the 
interpreters^  and  a  Mandan  man,  whom  we  take  with  a  view  to  reftore  peae^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


AliERXCAN  STATE  PAPERS.  41 

between  the  Snjike  Indians,  and  those  in  this  neig^hborhood,  amounting  in  to- 
tal with  ourselves  to  33  persons.  By  means  of  the  interpreters  and  Indians, 
we  shall  be  enabled  to  converse  with  all  the  Indians  that  we  shall  probably 
meet  with  on  the  Missouri. 

I  have  forwarded  to  the  secretary  at  war  my  public  accounts,  rendered  up 
to  the  present  day.  They  have  been  much  lonprer  delayed  than  I  had  any 
idea  they  would  have  been,  when  we  departed  from  the  'Illinois  ;  but  this  dc 
lay,  under  the  circumstances  which  I  was  compelled  to  act,  has  been  unavoid. 
able.  The  provision  peroque  and  her  crew,  could  not  have  been  dismissed  ia 
time  to  have  returned  to  St.  Louis  last  fall,  without  evidently,  in  my  opinion, 
hazarding  the  fate  of  the  enterprize  in  which  lam  engaged  ;  and  I  therefore 
did  not  hesitate  to  prefer  the  censure  that  I  may  have  incurred  by  the  deten- 
tion of  these  papers,  to  that  of  risking  in  any  degree  the  success  of  the  expe- 
dition. To  me  the  detentiim  of  these  papers  has  formed  a  serious  source  of 
disquiet  and  anxiety  ;  and  the  recollection  of  your  particular  charge  to  me  oa 
this  subject,  has  made  it  still  more  poignant.  I  am  fully  aware  of  the  incon- 
venience which  must  have  arisen  to  the  war  department,  from  th^  want  of 
these  vouchers,  previous  to  the  Ikst  session  of  congress,  but  how  to  avert  it 
was  out  of  my  power  to  devise. 

From  this  place  we  shall  send  the  barge  and  crew  early  to-morrow  morning, 
with  orders  to  proceed  as  expeditiously  a*?  possible  to  St.  Louis  ;  by   her  we 
send  our  dispatches,  which  I  trust  will  get  safe  to  hand.     Her   crew  consists 
of  ten  able  bodied  men,  -well  armed  and  provided  with  a    sufficient  stock  of 
provision  to  last  them  to  St.  Louis.     I  have  but  little  doubt    but  they  will  be 
fired  on  by  the  Siouxs  ;  but  they  have  pledged  themselves  to  us  that  they  will 
not  yield  while  there  is  a  man  of  tliem  living.   Our  baggage  is  all  embarked  on 
board  six  small  canoes,  and  two  peroques  ;  we  shall  set  out  at  the  same  mo. 
ment  that  we  dispatch  the  barge.    One,  or  perhaps  both  of  these  peroques,  we 
shall  leave  at  the  falls  of  the  Missouri,  from  whence  we  intend  continuing  our 
▼oyage  in  the  canoes,  and  a  peroque  of  skins,  the  frame  of  which  was  prepar- 
ed at  Harper's  ferry.     This  peroque  is  now  in  a  situation  which  will  enable  us 
to  prepare  it  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours.     As  our  vessels  are  now  small,  and 
the  current  of  the  river  much  more  moderate,  we  calculate  upon  travelling  at 
the  rate  of  20  or  25  miles  per  day,  as  far  as  the  falls  of  the  Missouri.   Beybftd 
this  point,  or  the  first  range  of  rocky   mountains,  situated  about   100  miles 
further,  any  calculation  with  respect  to  our  daily  progress,  can  be  little  more 
than  bare  conjecture.    The  circumstance  of  the   Snake   Indians  possessing 
large  quantities  of  horses,  is  much  in  our  favour,  as  by   means  of  horses  the 
transportation  of  our  baggage  will  be  renaered  easy  and  expeditious  over  land, 
from  the  Missouri  to  the  Columbia  river.     Should  this  river  not  prove  naviga- 
ble where  we  first  meet  with  it,  our  present  intention  is,  to  continue  our  march 
by  land  down  the  river,  until  it  becomes  so,  or  lo  the  Pacific  ocean.    The 
map,  which  has  been  forwarded  to  the  secretary  of  war,  will  give  you  the  idea 
we  entertain  of  the  connection  of  these  rivers,  which  has  been  formed  from 
the  corresponding  testimony  of  a  number  of  Indians,   who  have  visited  that 
country,  and  who  have  been  separately  and  carefully  examined  on  Uiat  subject, 
and  we  therefoi'e  think  it  entitled  to  some  deg^e  of  confidence.    Since  our 
arrival  at  this  place,  we  have  subsisted  principally  on  meat,  with  which  our 
guns  have  supplied  us  amply,  and  have  thus  been  enabled  to  reserve  the 
parched  meal,  portable  soup,  and  a  considerable  proportion  of  pork  and  flour, 
which  we  had  intended  for  the  more  difficult  parts  of  our  voyage.     If  Indian 
information  can  be  credited,  the  vast^uantity  of  game  with  which  the  country 
abounds  through  which  we  are  to  pass,  leaves  us  but  little  to  apprehend  from 
the  want  of  food. 

We  do  not  calculate  on  completing  our  voyage  within  the  present  year, 
but  expect  to  reach  the  Pacific  ocean,  and  return  as  far  as  the  head  of  the 
Missouri,  or  perhaps  to  this  place,  before  winter.  You  may  therefore  expect 
roe  to  meet  you  at  Monticello  in  September,  1806.  On  our  return  we  shall 
probably  pass  down  the  Yellow  Stone  river,  which,  from  Indian  information, 
waters  one  of  the  fairest  portions  of  this  continent. 

Vol,  III.  Appendix.       P 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


43  A9ZCI1CAM  STATE  PAPXR^. 

I  can  Ke  no  mtlcrial  or  probable  obitntction  to  •nrprogrca,  nd  atbabk, 
ititrtfott,  the  most  sang^uine  hopea  of  complete  succcsa.  As  to  nyidf,  »■ 
dividually,  I  never  enjoyed  a  more  perfect  state  of  eood  Health  thn  1  bne 
aince  we'commenced  our  voyage.  My  inestimable  feriend  and  caiiipaBioa,cif. 
Uin  Ctorke^haa  alao  enjoyed  good  health  generally.  At  thta  RomeBt  ttttj 
individual  of  the  paKy  la  in  good  health  and  excellent  apirits.  seaVomly  A- 
.  tacbed  to  the  enterprise*  and  anxioua  to  proceed ;  not  a  whisper  of  <bic<aial 
or  murmur  ia  to  be  heanl  among  them »  but  all  in  oniaon  act  with  the  nort 
perfect  harmony.  With  such  men  I  have  every  thing  to  hope,  and  botktfe 
to  fear. 

Be  so  good  aa  to  present  my  most  affectionate  regard  to  all  my  fKsads,  td 
.  be  assured  of  the  sincere  and  unalterable  attachment  of 

Your  most  obedient  servant^ 

MERIWETHER  LEWIS. 
^  Copt,  of  Ut  U.  S.  regimewt  ifv^atf 

Tu  :  jEVPSasoVv 
I^ddtm  ^the  Vkitmi  Stafn, 


We  very  much  regret^  that  it  is  not  in  our  fiovyer  to  insert  the  cmmti- 
cation  from  Captains  Lkwjs  1st  Clamk  ;  it  is  extremely  long  md  ii 
quite  as  unmteUigibie  vdthota  the  assistance  cfa  mafi  :  besides  it  wssM 
ie  verif  uninteresting'  to  almost  every  reader^  and  thtrtfire  or  aW 
proceed  to  the  documents  from  Dr.  Sisixr  and  Mr.  DffKBAi^  i*f*  ffc 
mentioned  in  the  President's  message.  These  may  gratify  a  xmitni  ^ 
readers^  besides  the  student  of  geograjihy'^  and  may  assict  the  maken  i 
mafts  in  correcting  the  boundaries^  drvieions^  bV.  qfthefiromu^ 
JjQuisiaTNi, 

mSTOa^CAA.  SIttTCllBS  OF  THB  St^CfeAL  llfMAIT  THIBBS  IV  IsOVWWU, 
aotfTB  OF  TSB  ASlXAVSA  niVBR,  A2f1D  BBTWSBK  TMK  MlSaiSSirffl  Aft 
RIVBB  OatAZfV. 

C  A  DDOQUES,  Kv«  abfiot  55  miles  west  of  the  main  btwioli  of  Red  ti«ff, 
on  a  bayau  or  creek,  called  bv  them  Sodo,  whidi  ia  navif^able  for  penfw 
only  wiihin  about  six  miles  or  their  village,  and  that  only  m  tho  rainy  seaaa. 

•  They  are  diatant  from  Natchitoches  about  120  mika,  the  nearest  raria  ^ 
'  land,  and  in  nearly  a  north  wot  direction.  Tliey  have  lived  where^iry  vssi 
only  five  years.  The  first  year  they  moved  there  the  amaU  pes  rot  aaaapt 
tbean  and  dcatmyed  nearfjr  one  half  of  them  ^  it  waa  in  the  wmter  ssmbb, 
•nd  they  practised  plunging  into  the  creek  on  the  first  appenraoce  of  tfceeiif* 
tion,  and  died  in  a  few  houtm.    Two  yeara  ago  they  bad  ttie  flieaales,  flf  slkb 

■  several  more  sCthem  died.  They  Ibrmerly  lived  on  the  south  bank  af  tk 
river,  by  the  course  of  the  river  STS  milea  higher  up,  at  a  besntM  pnin, 

•  •which  baa  a  dear  lake  of  good  water  in  the  middle  of  it,  snrmasdsdtys 
pleasant  and  Ihitile  country,  whidi  had  been  Che  reaklenon  of  their  aaouMtt 
IWim  time  immemoriaL 

Tlie3^have  a  traditioMtty  Ule  which  not  only^  CadAia,  b«^  half  a  dMS 
iQlher  smaller  nations  believe  in,  who  ciani  the  honour  of  being  dsaeeadtflitf 
the  same  family :  they  aay,  when  aU  the  world  was  drowned  Jbf  a  iood  Alt 
immdaled  the  whole  cotintr>',  the  great  spirit  pboed  on  an  eminsnos,  nearikii 

.  *lake,  one  fiimily  of  Caddo^ues,  who  akHio  were  aaved ;  fipom  thai  teilyal  lie 
Indians  originaled. 

.  The  French,  for  many  years  befbre  Louisiana  was  tnnis(eived  to8pite»M 
^  this  place,  a  fort  and  aome  addiers  s  aeveral  Fwaeh  fiunihes  wtsettiw* 
aettled  in  the  vicinity,  where  th^  had  erected  a  good  ftour  imH  wllh  ^ 
stone »  brought  from  France..  Tfaeae  French  iamiliescoiiliaiiedchasliiiki^ 


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AMERICAN  STATS  PAP£llft.  43 

.35  years  ag^,  when  they  mored  down  and  aettkd  at  Camptt,  on  the  Red  xi^r, 
about  20  miles  above  Natchitoches,  where  thev  now  live  ;  and  the  Indiana  ldf]( 
4t  about  14  years  ago,  on  account  of  a  dread/ul  skkneta  that  visited  them. 
They  settled  on  the  river  nearly  opposite  where  they  now  live,  on  a  low  place, 
but  were  driven  thence  on  account  of  its  overflowing,  occasioned  by  a  jua  of 
timber  choaking  the  river  at  a  point  below  them. 

The  whole  number*  of  what  they  call  warriors  of  the  ancient  Caddo  nation,  is 
fl\ow  reduced  to  about  100,  who  are  looked  upon  somewhat  like  knights  ol  Mal» 
ta,  or  some  distinguished  nulitary  order.  They  are  brave,  despise  danger  or 
death,  and  boast  that  they  have  never  ahed  white  man's  blood.  Besides  theae, 
there  are  of  oid  men  and  strangers  who  live  amongst  them,  nearly  the  sam« 
nomber,  but  there  are  40  or  50  more  women  than  men.  Thia  nation  has  greal 
influence  over  the  Ysttassees,  Nandskoes,  Kabadaches,  Inies  or  Yachies«  Na» 
gogdoches,  Keychies,  Adaize  and  Natchitoches,  who  all  speak  the  Caddo  Ian* 
^age,  look  up  to  them  as  their  fathers,  visit  and  intermarry  among  then,  and 
join  them,  in  aD  their  wafv. 

The  Caddoques  complain  of  the  Choctaws  encroaching  opon  their  country  i 
call  them  lazy,  thievish,  &c.  There  has  been  a  misuiwerstanding  between 
them  for  fevend  years,  and  small  hunting  parties  kill  one  another  when  thef 
meet. 

The  CaddM  raiae  com,  beans,  pumpkins,  &c.  but  the  land  on  which  they 
now  live  is  prairie,  of  a  white  clay  soil,  very  flat :  their  crops  are  subject  to 
injury  either  by  too  wet  or  too  dry  a  seajon.  They  have  horsea,  but  few  of  a- 
ny  other  dumestic  animal,  except  dogs;  moat  of  them  have  guna  and  sooan 
have  rifles  :  they  and  all  the  other  Indiana  that  we  have  any  knowledge  o^ 
are  at  war  with  the  Osages. 

The  country,  generally,  round  the  Caddoa  ia  hilly,  not  very  rich  ;  growth  a 
mixture  of  oak,  hickory  and  pine,  interspersed  with  prairies,  which  are  very 
rich  generally,  and  fit  for  cukivation.  There  are  creeka  and  aprings  of  good 
water  frequent. 

TATTASS££S,  Hve  on  Bajau  Pierre,  '(or  atony  creek)  which  falls  iato 
Red  river,  western  dim  ion,  about  50  milei  above  Natchitoches.  Their  vil* 
tage  ia  in  a  large  prairie  about  half  way  between  the  Caddoquea  and  NatchitD* 
chtfs,  surrounded  by  a  settlement  of  French  (kmiliea.  The  Spanish  govern* 
tnent,at  present,  exerciae  jurisdiction  aver  thia  settlement,  where  they  kn^  « 
guard  of  a  noncommissioned  officer  and  eight  aoktiers. 

A  few  months  ago»  the  Caddo  chief  with  a  lew  of  his  young  men  were  con- 
ing  to  this  place  to  trade,  and  came  that  way  which  ia  the  usual  road.  Thn 
SfNtfiish  officer  of  the  gnard  threatened  to  stop  them  from  trading  with  thn 
Americana,  and  told  the  chief  if  he  returned  that  way  with  the  gooda  hn 
•hould  take  them  from  him :  The  chief  and  hia  pMiy  were  very  angry,  and 

"  *  ad  been  al« 


threatened  to  kHl  the  whole  guard,  and  tokl  them  that  that  road  had 
ways  theirs,  and  that  if  the  Spaniarda  attempted  to  prevent  their  usinr  it  m» 
their  ancestora  had  always  done,  he  would  soon  make  it  a  bkxNly  roao.  Hn 
eame  here,  purchaaed  the  goods  he  wanted,  and  might  have  returned  another 
way  and  avoided  the  Spanish  guard,  and  waa  adriscd  to  do  ao  t  but  he  aai4 
lie  would  pasa  by  them,  and  let  them  Mtempt  to  stop  him  if  they  dared.  The 
guard  said  noth'mg  to  him  as  he  returned. 

Thia  settlement,  tHl  some  flew  years  aeo,  nsed  to  belong  to  the  district  of 
Katehitoch^,  and  the  rights  to  their  lands  given  by  the  government  of  Louia- 
iaoa,  before  it  waa  ceded  to  Spain.  Ita  now  being  under  the  government  ef 
Taxua,  waa  only  nn  agreement  between  the  eommandan*.  of  Naiohitochea  nnd 
the  commandant  of  Narogdochea.  The  Frtnoh  formerly  had  a  station  and 
Ihctory  there,  and  another  on  the  StMte  river,  nearly  one  hundred  mikf  north 
west  from  the  Bayau  Pierre  aettlement.  The  Yattaaseea  now  any  UioFrennh 
used  to  be  their  people  and  now  the  Americans. 

•  But  of  the  ancient  Tattaasees  there  are  but  eight  men  remaining,ai)d  iwen* 
ty-flve  women,  besidea  ohiMren  ;  but  a  number  ot  men  of  ether  nationa  have 
intermarried  witii  them  and  Kve  together.  1  paid  a  viait  at  their  village  lail 
snmmer ;  there  were  about  forty  men  of  them  altogether  i  their  origuud  lan» 
gnagediJRftfrMiany  vther;  Init  now»  all  apeak  Ca4(to<    They  live  on  lick. 


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44  AMERICAN  STATE  PAPERS. 

land,  raise  plenty  of  corn,  beans,  pumpkins,  tobacco,  &c.  have  hones,  c&idf , 
hog^  snd  pouHry. 

NANUAKOES,  live  on  Ihc  Sabine  river,  60  or  70  miles  loUkc  »et. 
ward  of  tlie  Yattassees,  near  where  the  French  tbrmeriy  had  a  station  and  Vic- 
tory. Their  languag^e  is  Caddo  :  about  forty  men  only  of  them  remaining.  A 
few  years  ago  they  suffered  very  much  by  tlie  small  pox  They  consitlir  th«ni- 
Fclves  the  same  as  Caddos,  with  whom  they  intermarry,  and  are,  oGcjuuoiiaih , 
visiting'  one  another  in  the  greatest  harmony  -.  liave  the  same  manners,  ctu. 
toms  and  attachments. 

AD  AIZE,  live  about  40  miles  from  Natchitoches,  below  tlie  yaiu«ecs,c^ 
a  lake  called  Lac  Macdon,  which  communicates  with  the  dinsion  of  Red  uva 
that  passes  by  Bayau  Pierre.  They  live  at  or  near  where  tlieir  aiKrestors  ha« 
lived  fi*om  time  immemorial.  They  being  the  nearest  nation  to  the  old  S^'. 
ish  fori,  or  Mission  of  Adaize,  that  place  was  named  alter  them,  bciii^  ifr-n' 
20  miles  from  them,  to  tlie  south.  There  are  now  about  20  men  of  tiiem  re 
maining,  but  more  women.  Their  language  differs  i^om  all  other,  imi  li  k 
difficult  to  speak  or  understand,  that  no  nation  can  speak  ten  words  uf  it.  but 
they  all  speak  Caddo,  and  most  of  them  French,  to  whom  they  wtrc  ahnys 
attached,  and  joined  them  against  the  Natchez  Indians.  After  the  misucn; 
of  Natchez,  in  1798,  while  Uie  Spaniards  occupied  Uie    post  of  Adaizt.  i\tvx 

griests  took  muck  pains  to  proseI>te  these  Indians  to  the  Roman  Catb^iic  re- 
gion, but.  I  am  informed,  were  totally  unsuccessfu! 

ALICHE  (commonly  pronounced  ^yeish)  live  near  Nacogdoches,  but  are 
almost  extinct,  as  a  nation,  not  being  mone  than  25  souls  of  them  remsinii^- 
ibur  years  ago  tte  small  pox  destroyed  Uie  ^neater  part  of  them.  Tbc)  wm, 
some  years  ago,  a  considerable  nation,  and  lived  on  a  bayau  .which  bean  thc;; 
name,  which  the  road  from  Natchitoch  to  Nacogdoches  crosses,  about  12  nuks 
west  of  Sabine  river,  on  which  a  few  French  and  American  families  are  set. 
tied.  Their  native  language  is  spoken  by  no  other  nation,  but  they  speak  aod 
understand  Caddo,  with  whom  they  are  in  amity,  often  visiting  one  anoUief. 

KEYES,  or  KEYCHIES,  live  on  the  east  bank  of  Trini^  rwer,  a  taafl 
distance  above  where  the  road  from  Natchitoches  to  St.  Antoine  crosses  it. 
There  are  of  them  60  men  :  have  their  peculiar  native  language,  but  mostly  oo' 
speak  Caddo;  intermarry  with  tliem,  and  live  together  in  much  harmony, fir. 
luerly  having  lived  near  them,  on  the  head  waters  of  the  Sahine.  They  pUt 
corn  and  some  other  vegetables. 

INIES,  or  TACHIES  (called  indifferently  by  both  names.)  From  the  lat- 
ter name  the  name  of  the  province  of  Tachus  or  Taxqs  is  derived.  The  Lnitt 
live  about  25  miles  west  of  Natchitodies,  on  a  small  river  a  branch  of  Ssbiat, 
called  the  Naches.  They  are,  Uke  all  their  neighbors,  dimiBisbing  i  ^ 
'  have  now  80  men.  Their  ancestors,  for  a  long  time,  lived  where  they  now 
do.  Their  language  the  same  as  tliat  of  the  Caddos,  with  whom  they  are  k 
great  amity.  These  Indians  have  a  good  chaiacter,  live  on  excellent  h»l 
and  raise  corn  to  sell. 

NABEDACHES,  live  on  the  west  side  of  the  same  river,  about  fiAea 
miles  above  them  ;  have  about  the  same  number  of  men  ;  speak  the  same  Us- 
guage  ;  live  on  the  best  of  land  ;  raise  com  in  plenty  ;  have  the  sane  ous* 
iiers,  customs  and  attachments. 

BE  DIES,  are  on  tlie  Trinity  river,  about  60  miles  to  the  soutkvsrd  of 
Nacogdoches  ;  have  100  men ;  are  good  hunters  for  deer,  which  are  tcrybigc 
and  plenty  about  them ;  plant,  and  make  good  crops  of  com  ;  language  di&n 
from  all  other,  but  speak  Caddo ;  are  a  peaceable,  quiet  people,  and  have  ao 
excellent  character  for  their  honesty  and  punctuality. 

ACCOKESAWS.  Their  ancient  town  and  principal  place  of'  residence  tf 
on  the  west  side  of  Colerado  or  Rio  Rouge,  about  200  miles  south  west  « 
Nacogdoches,  but  often  change  their  place  of  residence  for  a  season  {  beif^ 
near  the  bay  make  greM  use  of  fish,  oysters,  &c.  kill  a  great  many  deer, 
which  are  the  largest  and  fattest  in  the  province  ;  and  their  countr>'  is  rndxtt- 
Sally  said  to  be  inferior  to  no  part  of  the  province  in  soil,  growth  of  timber, 
goodness  nf  water,  ami  beauty  of  surface ;  have  a  language  peculiar  to  tbeS' 
•elves,  but  have  a  mode  of  commuoication  by  dtimb  signsi  which  they  all  u^- 


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AMERICAN  STATE  PAPERS,  45 

derstand  t  number  about  80  men.  30  or  40  years  ag^  the  Spaniards  had  a 
mtssioa  here,  but  broke  it  up,  or  moved  ii  to  Nacogdoches.  They  talk  of  re- 
scttlinjf  it,  and  speak  in  the  highest  tei-ms  ot  the  country. 

MAY£S»  live  pn  a  large  creek  called  St.  Gabriel,  on  the  bay  of  St.  Bernard* 
near  the  mouth  ot*  Gauduloupe  river  :  are  estimated  at  200  men  /  never  at 
peace  with  the  Spaniards,  towards  whom  they  are  said  to  possess  a  fixed  ha- 
ired,  but  protJess  great  friendship  for  the  French,  to  whom  they  have  been 
strongly  attacked  since  Mona.  de  Salle  landed  in  their  neighborhood.  The 
place  where  there  is  a  talk  of  the  Spaniards  opening  a  new  port,  and  making 
a  settlement,  is  near  tliem  i  where  the  party,  with  the  governor  of  St.  Antoine, 
who  were  there  last  fall  to  examine  it,  say  they  found  the  remains  of  a  French 
block  house  ;  some  of  the  cannon  now  at  Labahie  are  said  to  have  been 
brought  from  that  place,  aud  known  by  the  engravings  now  to  be  seen  on 
diem. 

The  French  speak  highly  of  these  Indians  for  their  extreme  kindness  and 
hospitality  to  all  Frenchmen  who  have  been  amongst  them  :  have  a  language 
of  their  own,  but  speak  Attakapa,  which  is  the  language  of  their  neighbors 
the  Carankouas  ;  ihey  have  likewise  a  way  of  conversing  by  signs. 

C AKANKOUAS,  live  on  an  island,  or  peninsula,  in  the  bay  of  St.  Bernard, 
in  length  about  ten  miles,  and  hve  in  breadth ;  tlie  soil  is  extremely  rich  and 
pleasant  (  on  one  side  of  which  there  is  a  iiigh  bluff,  or  mountain  of  coal, 
which  has  been  on  fire  for  many  years,  affording. always  a  light  at  night,  and 
a  strong,  thick  smoke  by  day,  by  wliich  vesseb  are  sometimes  deceived 
and  lost  on  the  shoaly  coast,  which  shoals  are  said  to  extend  nearly  out  of 
sight  of  land.  From  this  burning  coal  there  is  emitted  a  gummy  substance 
the  Spainards  call  ch^ta,  which  is  thrown  on  the  shore  by  the  surf,  and  collect- 
by  them  in  considerable  quantities,  which  they  are  fond  of  chewing  ;  it  has 
the  appearance  and  consistence  of  pitch,  of  a  strong,  aromatic,  and  not  disa- 
greeable smell.  These  ludians  are  irreconcileable  enemies  to  the  Spaniards, 
always  at  war  with  them,  and  kill  them  whenever  tliey  can.  The  Spaniards 
call  them  cannibals,  but  the  French  give  them  a  ditferent  character,  who  have 
always  been  treated  kindly  by  them  since  Mons  de.  Salle  and  his  party  were 
in  tbeir  neighborhood.  They  are  said  to  be  500  men  strong,  but  I  have  not 
beeo  able  to  estimate  tlieir  numbers  from  any  very  accurate  information  ;  in 
a  short  time  expect  to  be  well  informed.  They  sp^ak  the  Attakapa  language  ; 
are  fViendly  and  kind  to  all  other  Indians,  and,  I  presume,  are  much  hke  all 
Others,  notwithstanding  what  the  Spaniards  say  of  them,  for  nature  is  every 
where  the  tame. 

Last  summer  an  old  Spaniard  came  to  tne  from  JLabahie,  a  ]Oumey  of  a- 
bout  500  miles,  to  have  a  barbed  arrow  taken  out  9f  his  shoulder,  that  one  of 
these  Lidians  had  shot  in  it.  I  found  it  under  his  shoulder-blade,  near  nine 
inches,  and  had  to  cut  a  new  place  to  get  at  the  poiat  of  it,  in  order  to  get 
it  out  the  contrary  way  from  that  in  wliich  it  had  entered  :  it  was  made  of  a 
piece  of  an  iron  hoop,  with  wings  like  a  fluke  and  an  inche. 

GANGES,  are  a  very  numerous  nation,  consisting  of  a  g^at  many  difTer- 
ent  tribes,  occupying  different  parts  of  the  country,  from  the  bay  of  St.  Ber. 
nard,  cross  river  Granjd,  towards  La  Vera  Gruz.  They  are  n^t  friendly  to 
the  Spaniards,  and  generally  kill  them  when  they  have  an  opportunity.  Thej 
are  attached  to  the  French  ;  are  good  hunters,  principally  using  (he  bow. 
They  are  very  particular  in  their  dress,  which  is  mad^  of  neatly  dressed  leath- 
er ;  the  women  wear  a  long  loose  robe,  resembling  that  of  a  Franciscan  friar  i 
nothing  but  their  heads  and  feet  are  to  be  seen.  The  dress  of  the  men  is 
straight  leather  leggings,  resemblinfl^  pantaloons,  and  a  leather  hunting  shirt  or 
irock.   No  estimate  cijsn  be  made  of  their  number. 

.Thirty  or  forty  jrears  ago  the  Spaniards  used  to  make  slaves  of  them  when 
they  could  take  them ;  a  considemule  number  of  them  were  brought  to  Nat- 
chitoches and  sold  to  the  french  inhabiunta  at  40  or  50  dollars  a  head,  and  a 
number  of  them  are  t^l  living  here,  but  are  now  free.  About  20  years  ago 
an  order  came  from  the  king  of  Spain  that  no  more  Indians  should  be  made 
^ves,  and  those  that  were  enslaved,  should  be  emancipated  ;  after  which 
some  of  tb«  women  who  hftd  been  servants  in  good  fAmiUei,  and  taught  spin* 


Digitized  by  GoOglC^^ 


46  AXXKXCAK  STATK  FAPEaS. 

fling,  sewing,  Ice.  at  well  ta  managing  iuHisehold  aflain,  married  naitJSr  if 
the  oovnUy,  and  became  respectable,  well  behaved  women,  and  have  imr 
growing  np  decent  familiea  oi  children  :  have  a  language  peculiar  to  tbtn* 
•elvei,  and  are  understood  by  aigna,  by  all  others.  Tbcy  are  in  amily  with  all 
other  Indians  except  ilie  HieUns. 

TANKAWAYS  (or  TANKS,  as  the  French  caU  them)  have  no  Und.  nor 
claim  the  exclusive  right  to  any,  nor  have  any  particular  place  of  abode,  but 
are  always  moving,  alternately  occupying  the  country  watered  hy  the  Trinitv, 
Braoes,  and  Colmdo,  towards  St.  a  F^.  Resemble,  in  their  dr^  the  Cvm 
and  Hietans,  bat  all  in  one  horde  or  tribe.  Their  number  of  men  it  cfltimate^ 
at  about  SOO ;  are  good  hunters  i  kill  buffaioe  and  deer  with  the  bow ;  hi«c 
the  beat  breed  of  horaet ;  are  alUmately  friends  and  enemies  of  the  Sptniardi, 
An  old  trader  ktely  inforaiifd  me  that  he  had  received  5000  deer  tkins  firoa 
them  in  one  year,  exclusive  of  tallow,  rugs  and  tongues.  They  pUnt  nothnp 
Ibut  live  upOA  wttd  fruki  and  flesh :  are  atrong,  athletic  people,  and  eiceUeot  I 
horsemen. 

T AW AKENOCS,  or  TURKE  CANES.  They  are  called  by  both  mma 
indifferently ;  live  on  the  west  aide  of  the  Braces,  but  are  often,  forioai 
months  at  a  tin.e,  lowir  down  than  their  usual  place  of  residence,  in  the  gr^ 
prairie  at  the  Tortuga,  or  Turtle,  called  so  from  its  being  a  hill  in  the  pnini, 
which  at  a  distance  appears  in  the  form  of  a  turtle,  upon  which  there  ire  ntt 
remarlcable  springs  of  water.  Their  usual  residence  is  about  SOOmilntothi 
westward  of  Nacogdoches,  towards  St.  a  F^.  They  are  estimated  at  300  no : 
are  good  hunters ;  have  guna,  but  hunt  principally  with  the  bow :  are  m^^ 
with  goods  from  Naeogdochee,  and  pay  for  them  in  rugs,  tongues,  taUow  id 
fkina.  They  speak  the  same  language  of  the  Panis,  or  Towiaches,  ad  ps* 
Send  to  have  descended  from  the  same  anceators. 

PANIS,  or  TOWIACHES.  The  French  call  th«Bi  Pat^s,  andtheSpuK 
tarda  Towiaches  t  the  latter  ia  the  proper  Indian  name.  Thef  five  or  At 
touth  bank  of  Red  River  i  by  the  course  of  the  river  upwards  of  800  milei 
above  Natchitoches,  and  by  land,  by  the  nearest  path,  ia  estimated  st  ibcit 
340.  They  have  two  towns  near  timther ;  the  lower  town,  where  tke  eWrf 
lives,  is  caUed  Niteheta,  and  the  other  is  called  Towaahach.  Thev  calltkeir 
present  chief  the  Great  Bear.  Ther  are  at  war  with  the  Spaniards, Ut  friend 
ly  to  those  French  and  American  huntera  who  have  lately  been  among tbea. 
They  are  likewise  at  war  with  the  Osi^pes,  as  are  erery  other  natjos.  F« 
many  hundred*  of  miles  round  them,  the  eountry  is  rich  prairie,  cofersdwhfc 
luxuriant  grass,  which  is  green  summer  and  winter,  with  skirts  of  spoed  mtk 
river  bank,  by  die  springs  and  creeks. 

They  have  many  horses  and  mules.  They  raise  more  osra,  puvpM 
beans,  and  tobacco,  than  they  want  for  their  own  consumption  ;  the  wrfk^ 
they  exchange  with  the  Hietans  for  buffaioe  rugs,  hofsee  and  mules :  thepoii^ 
kins  they  out  round  in  their  shreads,  and  when  it  b  in  a  state  of  dryness  thil  Ha 
so  tough  it  will  not  break,  but  bend,  they  plait  and  work  it  inle  harge  mstt,  • 
which  state  they  sell  it  to  the  Hietans,  who,  aa  they  travel,  cutoff  and  est  ittf 
they  want  iL  Their  tobacco  they  manufacture  and  cut  as  fine  as  tea,  wbicb  ii 
put  into  leather  bags  of  a  eertain  size,  and  is  likewise  an  aiticle  of  tmde.  W 
have  but  few  guns,  and  very  little  ammunition ;  what  they  have  they  keep  w 
war,  and  hunt  i^ith  the  bow.  Their  meat  is  principally  Imflalee  t  seldom  ki 
a  deer,  though  they  are  so  plenty  they  come  into  their  yiHages,  and  abootther 
houses,  like  a  domestic  animal :  eUt,  bear,  wolves,  anteh^  and  wOd  ^"P^ 
likewise  plenty  in  their  country,  and  white  rabbita,  or  banes,  as  well  si  v 
common  rsbbit  t  white  bears  sometimes  eome  down  amoii||sC  theat|  *"* 
wolves  of  all  colours.  The  men  generally  go  enttrehr  naked,  and  ^ 
women  nearly  so,  onl^  wearing  a  amall  flap  of  a  piece  of  a  sldn.**-' 
They  have  a  number  m  Spaniards  amongst  them,  of  foir  cQmpkxIot.  tife^ 
from  tlte  settlement  of  St.  a  F^  when  they  were  ^dren,  who  five  as  dqjf^ 
and  have  no  knowledge  of  where  they  came  Gaom,  Their  languafe  Wf* 
from  that  of  any  other  nation,  the  Tawakenoes  excepted.  Thdr  p«5ciit  M»* 
ber  of  men  is  estimated  at  about  400.  A  great  nunri^er  tf  Chem,  ^  f^ 
agn,  were  swept  off  by  the  small  pox. 


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ftin 


AMlBKAir  STATE  FAFERS..  47 

HIETAKS,  or  Conunches,  who  are  likewise  caOed  hf  both  iuuiics»  have  no 
fixed  place  of  residence  ;  have  neither  towns  nor  villages ;  divided  into  so  ma- 
ny  hordes  or  tribes,  that  they  have  scarcely  any  knowledj^  of  one  another. 
No  estimate  of  their  numbers  can  well  be  made.  They  never  remain  in  the 
same  place  more  than  a  few  days,  but  follow  the  buffaloe,  the  flesh  of  which  ia 
their  principal  food.  S«)me  of  them  occasionally  purchase  of  the  Panis,  com, 
beans  and  pumpkins  ;  but  they  are  so  numerous,  any  quantity  of  these  articlea 
the  Panis  are  able  to  supply  them  with,  must  make  but  a  small  proportion  Of 
their  food.  They  have  tents  made  of  neatly  dressed  skins,  fashioned  m  form  of 
m  cone,  sufficient ty  roomy  for  a  family  of  ten  or  twelve  persons ;  those  of  th» 
chiefs  will  contain  occasionally  50  or  60  persons.  When  they  stop,  their  tentt 
'are  pitched  In  very  etact  order,  soas  to  form  regular  streets  and  tquai^s,  which 
In  a  few  minutes  has  the  appearance  of  a  town,  raited,  as  it  u-ere,  by  inchant- 
ment  (  and  they  are  equally  dexterous  in  striking>ihelr  tents  and  preparing  fbr 
a  march  when  the  signal  is  given ;  to  every  tent  two'borses  or  mules  are  allotted, 
^  ic  to  carry  the  tent,  and  another  the  poles  or  sticKs,  which  are  neatly  made  of 

d  cedar ;  they  all  travel  on  horseback.  Their  horses  they  never  turn  boat 
Vo  grace,  but  always  keep  them  ^ed  with  a  long  cabras  or  halter ;  and  every 
two  or  three  days  they  are  obliged  to  move  on  account  of  ail  the  grmts  near 
them  being  eaten  up,  they  have  such  numben  of  hortet.  Thty  art  good 
horsemen  and  have  good  horses,  most  of  which  are  bred  by  themaelvet,  and 
being  accustomed  fh>m  when  very  young  to  be  handled,  they  are  remarkably 
docile  and  gentle.  They  sometimes  catch  wild  horses,  whidi  are  every  whert 
amongst  them  in  immense  droves.  They  bunt  down  the  bufl'aloe  on  horse* 
-back,  and  kill  them  either  with  the  bow  or  a  sharp  stick  Uke  a  spear,  ^idiich 
they  carry  in  their  hands.  They  are  generally  at  war  with  the  Spaniards,  o^ 
ten  committing  depredations  upon  the  inhabitants  of  St.  a  Ti  and  St.  Antoine ; 
but  have  always  been  IHendly  and  civil  to  any  French  or  Americans  who  havt 
been  amongst  them.  They  are  strong  and  athletic,  and  the  elderly  men  as  fat 
as  theugh  they  bad  lived  upon  English  t>eef  and  porter. 

It  is  said  the  man  who  kills  a  buifaloe,  catches  the  blood  and  drinks  it  while 
warm ;  they  likewise  eat  the  liver  raw,  before  it  is  cold,  and  use  the  gaul  by 
way  of  sauce.  They  are,  ibr  savages,  uncommonly  cleanly  in  their  persons : 
the  dt«ss  of  the  women  is  a  long,  loose  robe,  that  reaches  fVom  their  chin  to  the 
rround,  tied  round  with  a  fancy  sash,  or  girdle,  all  made  of  neatly  dressed 
feather,  on  which  thev  paint  fiffures  of  different  colours  and  significations :  the 
dress  of  the  men  is,  close  leather  pantaloons,  and  a  hunting  shirt  or  frock  of 
the  same.  They  never  remain  long  enough  m  the  same  place  to  plant  any 
thing :  the  small  Cayenne  pepper  {rrows  spontaneously  in  the  country,  with 
trhidi,  and  some  wild  herbs  and  fruits,  particularly  a  bean  that  grows  in  great 
^nty  on  a  small  tree  resembling  a  willow,  called  masketo,  the  women  co(^ 
their  bufialoe  beef  in  a  manner  that  would  be  grateful  to  an  English  squire. 
They  alternately  occupy  the  immense  space  of  country  from  the  Trinity  and 
Braces,  crossing  the  Red  river,  to  the  heads  of  Arkansa  and  Missoori,  to  river 
Orand,  and  beyond  it,  about  St.  a  F6,  and  over  the  dividing  ridge  on  the  wa- 
ters of  the  Western  ocean,  where  they  say  they  have  leen  large  peroqoei, 
'With  masts  to  them  ;  in  describing  which,  they  make  A  drawing  of  A  shipv 
with  all  its  sails  and  rigging  *,  and  they  describe  a  niace  where  they  have  seen 
teasels  ascending  a  river,  over  which  was  a  draw  Widge  that  opened  to  ^ve 
Hiem  a  passage.  Their  native  language  of  seonds  diffiers  fh)m  the  language 
«f  any  other  nation,  and  none  can  either  speak  or  understand  it  i  but  they 
kave  a  language  by  signs  that  all  Indians  understand,  and  by  which  they  con- 
inene  tnuch  among  themseh'es.  They  have  a  namber  of  Spanish  men  and 
^vomen  among  them,  wfio  are  ilaves,  aAd  who  they  flude  prisoners  when 
young. 

An  elderly  gentleman  now  living  at  Natchitoches,  %ho,  some  yctta  ago, 
tarried  €fn  a  trade  with  the  Hietans,  a  few  days  ago  felated  to  me  the  folkiW* 
ing  story : 

'  About  EG  years  ago  a  party  of  theae  Indians  pasted  over  the  river  Grand  to 
Cbeirawa,  the  residence  Of  the  governor -general  of  What  is  called  the  five  in- 
ternal proriocefl  t  lAylfitmbvshlbrafteFporUudlyyandma^apnsoDtf  thegof* 


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48  ^AMERICAN  STATE  PAPERS. 

ertior*!  diughter.  a  young  lady,  ^inj^  in  her  coach  to  mass,  and  brnu^t^ber 
off.  The  governor  sent  a  mcssag'e  to  him  (my  informant)  wiiii  a  tLouskiKi 
dollars,  for  the  purpose  of  recovering  his  daughter:  he  immediately  dispatch^ 
a  confidential  trader,  then  in  his  employ,  with  the  an)ountoi  tlie  1000  dollars  in 
merchandize,  who  repaired  to  the  nation,  found  her,  and  purchased  ber  raD> 
torn  ;  but  to  his  great  surprise,  she  refused  to  return  with  him  to  her  father, 
and  sent  by  him  the  following  message  :  that  the  Indians  had  disfigured  her  face 
by  tattooing  it  according  to  their  fancy  and  ideas  of  beauty,  and  a  young  man 
of  them  had  taken  her  tor  his  wife,  by  whom  she  believed  harse If  pregnant  : 
that  she  had  become  reconciled  to  their  mode  of  life,  and  was  weH  treated  by 
her  husband  ;  and  that  she  should  be  more  unhappy  by  returning  to  her  father, 
under  tliese  circumstances,  than  by  remaining  where  she  was.  Which  mes- 
uoe  was  conveyed  to  her  father,  who  rewarded  the  trader  by  a  present  of 
^H^ollars  more  for  his  trouble  and  fidelity  ;  and  his  daughter  is  now  livii^ 
.with  her  Indian  husband  in  the  nation,  bv  whom  she  has  three  children. 

NATCHITOCHES,  formerly  lived  where  the  town  of  Natchitoches  is 
situated,  took  its  name  from  them.  An  elderly  French  gentleman ,  lately 
{qTmedtne,  he  ren^embered  when  they  were  600  men  strong.  I  believe  it 
rioi^S  years  since  the  French  first  established  themselves  at  Natchitoch  :  ev- 
er since,  these  Indians  have  been  tlieir  steady  and  faithful  friends.  After  the 
massacre  of  the  French  inhabitants  of  Natchez,  by  the  Natchez  Indians,  in 
1728,  those  Indians  fled  from  the  French,  after  being  reinforced,  and  came  up 
Red  River,  and  camped  about  six  miles  below  the  town  of  Natchitoches,  near 
the  river,  by  the  side  of  a  small  lake  of  dear  water,  and  erected  a  mound  rf 
considerable  size,  where  it  now  remain*.  Monsieur  St.  Dennie,  a  French  Ca- 
nadian, was  then  commandant  at  Natchitoches  ;  the  Indians  called  him  the  Big 
Foot,  were  fond  of  him,  for  he  was  a  brave  man,  St.  Dennie,  with  a  few  French 
soldiers,  and  what  militia  he  could  muster,  joined  by  the  Natchitoches  Indians, 
attacked  the  Natchez  in  their  camp,  early  in  the  morning ;  tliey  defended 
themselves  desperately  for  six  hour^,  but  were  at  length  totally  defeated  by  Su 
Dennie,  ind  v^hat  of  them  that  were  not  filled  in  battle,  were  drove  into 
the  lake,  where  the  last  of  them  perished,  aad  the  Natchez,  as  a  nation  became 
extinct.  The  lake  is  now  called  by  no  other  name  than  the  Natchez  lake. 
There  are  now  remaining  of  the  Natchitoches,  but  12  men  and  19  women, 
who  live  in  a  village  about  25  miles  by  land  above  the  town  which  bears  their 
name,  near  a  lake,  called  by  the  French  Lac  de  Muire.  Their  original  Ian* 
gtiage  is  the  same  as  the  Yattassee,  but  speak  Caddo,  and  most  of  them  French. 
The  French  inhabitants  have  great  respect  for  this  nation,  and  a  number  <^ 
very  decent  families  have  a  mixture  of  their  blood  in  thnem.  They  claim  but 
a  small  tract  of  land,  on  which  they  live,  and  I  am  informed,  have  the  same 
rights  to  it  from  government,  that  other  inhabitants  in  their  neighborhood 
have.  They  are  gradually  wasting  away  ;  the  small  pox  has  been  their  great 
destroyer.  They  still  preserve  their  Indian  dress  and  habits  ;  raise  com  and 
those  vegetables  common  ir\  their  neighborhood. 

BOLUX  AS,  are  emigrants  from  near  Pensacola.  They  came  to  Red  River 
about  42  years  ago,  with  some  French  families,  who  left  that  country  about  the 
time  Pensacola  was  taken  possession  of  by  the  English. ,  They  were  then  a  con- 
siderable numerous  tribe,  and  have  generally  embraced  the  Roman  Catbohc 
religion,  and  were  ever  highly  esteemed  by  the  French.  They  settled  first  at 
Avoyall,then  moved  higher  up  to  Rapide  Bayau,  and  from  thence  to  the  moutk 
of  Rigula  de  Bondieu,  a  division  of  Red  River,  about  40  miles  below  Na*.chi- 
tocb,  where  they  now  live,  and  are  reduced  to  abaut  30  in  number.  Their  na^ 
tive  language  is  peculiar  to  themselves,  but  speak  Mobilian,  which  is  spoken  by 
all  the  Indians  from  the  east  aide  of  the  Mississippi.  They  are  honest,  harmless 
and  friendly  people. 

AFPAI. ACHES,  are  likewise  emigrants  from  West-Florida^  from  c^thc 
river  whose,  name  they  bear ;  came  oyer  to  Red  river  about  the  same  t^ne  the 
Boluxas  did,  and  have,  ever  since,  lived  on  the  river,  above  Bayau  Ra(Ade. 
Ko  natian  have  been  more  highly  esteemed  by  the  French  inhal^itants ;  no 
complaints  against  them  are  ever  heard  ;  there  are  only  14  mtxk  remaipi^ff  i 
have  their  own  language,  but  speak  French  and  Mobilian.  t 


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i^MBftlCAM  STATB  PAPKBt.  49 

ALLlftAMS,  are  likeiinac  from  West-FloridA,  off  the  Allibftmi  river, 
and  came  to  Red  riv«r  about  the  tame  time  of  the  Boluxas  and  Appalaches* 
Part  of  them  have  lived  on  Red  river,  about  16  miles  above  the  Bayuu  H^ide, 
till  laat  year,  when  moat  of  this  party,  of  about  30  men,  went  up  Red  nver, 
and  have  settled  themselves  near  the  Caddoques,  where,  I  am  informed, 
they  last  year  made  a  good  crop  of  com.  The  Caddos  are  friendly  to  them, 
and  have  no  objection  to  their  settling  there.  They  speak  the  Creek  and 
Chactaw  langxiages,  and  Mobilian  ;  moat  of  them  French,  and  some  of  them 
English. 

There  is  another  par^  of  them,  whose  village  is  on  a  small  creek,  in  Ap- 
pelousa  district,  about  30  miles  north  west  £rom  the  church  of  Appelousa. 
They  consist  of  about  40  men.  They  have  lived  at  the  same  place  ever  since 
they  came  fxom  Florida  ;  are  said  to  be  increasing  a  little  in  numbers,  for  a 
few  years  past.  They  raise  com,  liave  horses,  hogs  and  cattle,  and  are 
.  harmless,  quiet  people. 

CONCH  ATT  AS,  are  almost  the  tame  people  as  the  Allibamis,  but  came 
.t>ver  only  ten  years  ago  ;  first  lived  on  Bayau  Chico,  in  Appelousa  distinct^ 
but,  four  years  ago,  moved  to  the  river  Sabine,  settled  themselves  on  the 
east  bank,  where  they  now  live,  in  nearly  a  south  direction  from  Natchitoch, 
and  distant  about  80  miles.  They  call  their  number  of  men  160,  but  say,  if 
they  were  all  together,  they  would  amount  to  200.  Several  families  of  them 
live  in  detached  settlements.  They  are  good  himters,  and  game  is  plenty 
about  where  they  are.  A  few  days  ago,  a  small  party  of  them  were  here, 
consisting  of  15  persons,  men,  women  and  children,  who  wei'e  on  their  re- 
turn from  a  bear  hunt  up  the  Sabine.  They  told  me  they  had  killed  118  ; 
but  this  year  an  imcommon  number  of  bears  have  come  down.  *  One  mui\ 
alone,  on  Sabine,  during  the  summer  and  fail,  hunting,  killed  400  deer,  sold 
his  skins  at  40  dollars  a  hundred.  The  bears  this  year  are  not  so  fat  at 
common  ;  they  usually  yield  from  eight  to  twelve  gallons  of  oil,  each  or 
which  never  sells  for  less  than  a  dollar  a  gallon,  and  the  skin  a  dollar  more  ; 
no  great  quantity  of  the  meat  is  saved  ;  what  the  hunters  don't  use  when 
out,  they  jg^ener^y  give  to  their  dogps.  The  Conchettas  are  friendly  with  all 
other  Indians,  and  speak  well  of  their  neighbours  the  Carankouas,  who,  they 
Bay,  live  about  80  miles  south  of  them,  on  the  bay,  which,  I  believe,  is  t^e 
nearest  point  to  the  sea  from  Natchitoches.  A  &w  fanulies  of  Chactaws 
have  lately  settled  near  them  from  Bnyau  Beuf  The  Conchattas  speak 
Creek,  which  is  their  native  language,  and  Chactaw,  and  some  of  them  £og- 
ibh,  and  one  or  two  of  them  can  read  it  a  little. 

P  AC  ANAS,  are  a  small  tribe  of  about  30  men,  who  live  on  the  Quelque- 
.  shoe  river,  which  fall.4  into  the  bay  between  Attakapa  and  Sabine,  wliicK. 
heads  in  aprairie  called  Cooko  prairie,  about 40 miles  south  west  of  Nutcl^- 
toches.  These  people  are  likewise  emigrants  from  West-Florida,  s.bout  40 
years  ago.  Their  village  is  about  50  miles  south  east  of  tl)e  Conchattas  t 
are  said  to  be  increasing  a  little  in  number  ;  quiet,  peaceable  and  friendly 
people.    Their  own  language  differs  from  any  other,  but  speak  Mobilian. 

^  ATTAKAPAS.  This  word,  I  am  informed,  when  translated  into  Eng- 
.  lish,  means  man-cater,  but  is  no  more  applicable  to  them  than  any  other 
Indians.  The  district  they  live  in  is  called  after  them.  Their  village  it 
about  20  miles  to  the  westward  of  the  Attakapa  church,  towards  Quelqueshoe. 
Their  number  of  men  is  itbout  50,  but  some  Tunicas  and  Humas,  who  have 
married  in  their  nation  and  live  with  them,  makes  them  altogether  about  ^, 
They  are  peaceable  and  friendly  to  every  body  ;  labour,  occasionally,  for  the 
white  inhabitants  ;  raise  their  own  com  ;  have  cattle  and  hogs.  Tiieir  Lin- 
Ruage  and  Carankouas  is  the  same.  They  were,  or  near,  where  tlicy  now 
live,  when  that  part  of  the  country  was  first  discovered  by  the  FrcjacL 
Vol.  Ill,  Appendix.        G 


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50  AMSRK' AH  STATS   PAfl^Kft. 

APPALOU9AS.  It  is  said  the  word  Af^aloosa,  m  the  Indian  Un^gt, 
means  bUick  lic^d,  or  black  skull.  Tliey  lU-e  aborigines  of* the  district  called 
hy  tiiclr  nun\e.  Their  %'iHag«  is  about  15  miles  west  from  tlie  A|ipt4ouu 
chu  rh  ;  h:'ve  :tbout  40  men.  Their  native  lang^iaije  differs  fhim  all  ollwj; 
understatid  Attukapa  aiKl  speak  French  ;  plant  com  ;  have  cattle  andkogs. 

TUNICAS.  These  people  lived  formerly  on  the  Bayau  Tunica,  abovt 
Point  Ctitipc'-*,  on  the  Mississippi,  e:»9t  side  {  live  now  at  AvoyaJl;  do  not 
at  present  exit cil  25  men.  Their  native  lan^iug^  is  pecuU;u- to  tlicmseJvcs, 
but  s;>tul:  Mobiliju;  ;  are  employed,  occasionally,  by  the  inhubitacts  ss  boul- 
m-  n,  Jko.  hi  amity  with  all  other  people,  and  gradually  diminibliin^in  nuinben. 

PASC  AGOL  AS,  live  in  a  small  vill.ige  on  Red  river,  about  60  miles  be- 
low NuU-hltochesj  are  emigrants  from  PRsragola  river,  in  Wc st-Florida ; 
25  men  only  of  them  remaiumg- ;  spe:ik  Mobiliun,  but  l\ave  a  language  pccH- 
liar  t  )  tlumschcs  ;  m  >st  ofthcm  speak  :md  undei"stimd  French.  They  raise 
^  >oJ  crops  of  com,  and  garden  vegetables  ;  have  cattle,  horses,  and  poultry 
plenty.  Tlicir  horst-s  are  nwich  like  the  poorer  kind  of  French  inhabitants 
VA  the  river,  and  appear  to  live  about  as  well. 

TENISAWS,  are  likewise  emigrants  from  the  Tenes.iu  river,  that  falls 
into  the  bay  of  M;»bile  ;  have  I)een  on  Red  river  about  40  years ;  are  reduced 
to  about  ^5  men.  Their  \'illftge  is  within  one  mile  of  the  Pascagolas,  on  tl»e 
<>()p>.>itc  akh'y  but  li:ive  lately  sold  their  land,  and  have,  or  are  atK)Ut  moving, 
to  C  lyau  B^-aiff,  ab*>ut  25  miles  south  from  where  they  lately  lived:  all  speak 
French  and  Mobiliwi,  and  live  much  like  their  neighbours  the  Pascagolas. 

CH  ACTOOS,  live  on  Bayau  Beaiif,  about  10  miles  to  the  soathwari  of 
B  lyau  Ktipidc,  on  Reil  fiver,  toWiirds  Ai)palo\nia  ;  a  small,  lionest  pfople; 
iiTc  riborij'^ines  of  the  country  where  they  live  ;  of  men  about  30  i  dirainiih- 
h\^  :  have  their  ow:i  i>eciiiiar  tongue  ;'  speak  Mobtlian.  The  laials  they 
tlnim  on  B  >>  a  i  Bc'auf  aiv  inferiour  to  no  part  of  Louisiana  in  depth  andrich- 
lu'ss  (»f'soil,  ji;Tt>wth  of  timl>er,  pleasantness  of  surface  and  gixKlness  of  water. 
Tiie  B.iyau  Beaut  fills  into  the  Chalfeli,  and  dischai-gcs,  through  Appelousa 
and  Attakapu,  into  Vermilion  Bar. 

WASHAS.  "VVhentlie  French  first  came  into  the  Mississippi, tbis nation 
lived  on  an  island  to -the  south  west  of  New-Orleans,  called  Barntaria,  and 
were  the  first  tribe  of  Indians  they  became  acquainted  witli,  and  were  al- 
ways fiienthi.  They  afterwards  lived  on  Bayau  La  Fosh  ;  and,  from  befflj 
a  considerable  nation,  are  now  reduced  to  five  persons  only,  two  men  ^ 
tlux?c  women,  who  are  scattered  in  French  families  ;  have  been  many  years 
extinct,  as  a  natrou,  and  their  native  languag-e  is  lost 

CH^CTAWS.  There  are  a  considerable  number  of  this  nation  on  the  west 
fide  of  the  Mississippi,  who  have  not  been  home  for  several  years.  Al»8t 
12  miles  above  the  post  on  Oacheta,  on  that  river,  there  is  a  small  village  « 
them  of  about  30  men,  who  have  lived  there  for  several  years,  ajd  rnaoc 
com  ;  and  likewise  on  Bayau  Chico,  m  the  northern' part  of  the  *"**"5V^ 
AppalouKi,  there  is  another  xnllage  of  them  of  about  50  men,  who  have  been 
tiicre  fir  about  9  years,  and  say  they  have  the  govemour  of  Louisiana  *P^1 
mission  to  settle  there.  Besides  these,  there  are  rambling*  hunting  P*^^^ 
them  to  be  met  with  all  over  Lower  Louisiana.  Tliey  arc  at  war  witatne 
Caddoc^ues,  and  liked  by  neither  red  nor  white  people. 

ARKENS AS,  live  on  the  Arkansa  river,  south  side,  in  three  yiUa^^ 
about  12  miles  above  the  poet,  or  station.  The  name  of  the  first  ^'"J*^^ 
Tawmifna,  second  Oufitu^  md  the  thh-d  Ocafia  /  in  all;  it  i»betoved,tft^ 


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AMSRICAV  STATIC   PAPEEB*  ^1 

^o  not  Rt  present  exceed  100  men,  and  diminishing.  They  are  at  war  v/ith 
the  Osttjg^es,  biit  fi-iciully  with  ail  other  people,  XN-iiite  and  red  ;  ssc  Uie  orij^i- 
nnl  proprietors  of  the  country  on  the  river,  to  ail  wliicli  tlicy  h'.y  claim,  tor 
•bout  300  miles  above  them,  to  the  junction  of  the  river  Cadwa  witli  Ai- 
kcnsu  ;  aljove  this  fork  tlie  O^agcs  churn.  Their  lan^age  is  Osug-e.  Tiicy 
g'euerally  raise  com  to  sell  ;  arp  calU'd  honest  and  friendly  people. 

The  forementioned  are  all  tl\e  Indian  tribes  that  I  have  any  knovrledpre  of, 
or  can  obtain  an  accoujit  of,  in  Louisiana,  soutli  of  the  river  Arkensa,  between 
the  Mississippi  and  the  river  Grand.  At  Avoyall  there  did  U%e  a  considera- 
ble tribe  of  tliat  name,  but,  as  far  as  I  can  learn,  have  been  extinct  for  m^ny 
years,  two  or  tJu*ee  women  excepted,  who  did  lately  live  among  the  Frcncii 
inhabitants  on  Washita* 

There  are  a  few  of  tlie  Humas  still  livinj?  on  the  eust  side  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, in  Ixsusees  parish,  below  Manchack,  but  scarcely  exist,  a^  a  nation. 

That  tliere  are  errours  in  these  sketches  is  not  to  be  doubted,  but  in  all 
cases  out  of  my  own  personal  knowledge  I  have  endea\<.ured  to  procure  U)« 
best  information,  which  I  have  fidthfully  related ;  iukI  1  am  confident  any 
errours  tliat  do  exist  are  too  unimportant  to  affect  tlie  object  for  which  they 
arc  intended.  I  am,  sir,  &c. 

(Sigiml)  JOHN  SIBLET, 

General  H.  Dearborn. 

Natchitoches,  April  5,  1805| 


TO  GENERAL  HENRY  DEARBORN, 
SECRETART  OF  WAR. 
8III9 

YOU  request  me  to  give  you  »ome  accotmt  of  Red  riv^r,  and  the  c  onntrr 
adjacent  s  J  will  endeavour  to  comply  with  your  request,  to  tlie  best  of  my 
knowledge  and  capacity.  My  personal  knowledge  of  it  is  only  from  its 
mouth,  to  about  70  or  80  miles  above  Natchitoches,  being,  by  the  course  of 
tlie  river,  near  400  miles.  After  that,  what  I  can  say  of  it  is  derived  from 
information  from  otliers,  on  ^hose  veracity  I  have  great  reUance ;  principally 
from  Mr.  Francis  Gmppe,  who  is  my  assistant  and  interjireter  of  Indiun 
lano^uages  ;  whose  father  was  a  French  officer,  and  superintendant  of  Inditit 
afTanrs,  at  a  post,  or  station,  occupied  by  France,  where  they  kept  some 
soldiers,  and  had  a  factory,  previous  to  the  cession  of  I^ouisiana  to  Spain, 
situate  nearly  ^00  miles,  by  the  course  of  the  river,  above  Natchitoches,  where 
h",  my  informant,  was  bom,  and  lived  upwards  of  30  yet»rs ;  his  time,  during 
w  lich,  being  occupied  alternately  as  an  assistant  to  his  father,  an  Indian  trader 
and  hunter,  with  t^^e  advantage  of  some  learning,  and  a  very  retentive  memo- 
ry', acquired  an  accurate  knowledge  of  the  river,  as  well  as  the  languages  of 
ail  tlie  different  Indian  tribes  of  Louisiana,  which,  wib'j  his  having  been  In- 
dian interpreter  for  the  Spanish  govemiricnt  for  many  years  past,  and  (I  be- 
lieve) desen'edly  esteemed  by  the  Indians,  and  all  otiiers,  a  man  of  strict 
integrity,  has,  for  many  years,  and  does  now  possess  their  entire  confidence, 
and  a  very  extensive  influence  over  them  j  and  I  have  invariably  found,  that 
whatever  information  I  have  received  from  him,  has  been  confirmed  by  every 
othor  intelligent  person,  having  a  knowledge  of  the  same,  with  whom  I  have 
conversed- 

NOTE.     Contrary  to  geographical  rules,  as  I  ascended  the  river,  I  call^^ 
tlie  riglit  bank  tlie  northern  one,  and  tlie  lefl  the  loutheni. 


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59  ASCSRICAV  8TATB  fXrtmM. 


THE  confluence  of  Red  mer  with  the  Mistismni  is,  by  6i«  conne  of 
the  Utter»  estimated  about  320  miles  from  Kev-Qileans.  Descending  the 
M.ssissippi,  after  passings  the  Spanish  line  at  the  31st  degree  of  north  kti- 
tude,  it  nukes  aremarkable  turn  to  the  westward,  or  nevly  north  west, fcr 
some  distance  before  jou  arriTe  at  the  mouth  of  Red  mer,  as  tboogh,  not* 
withstanding  the  immense  quantity  of  its  waters'  already,  from  itsafanoit 
numberless  tributary  streams,  it  was  still  de^rous  of  a  fvther  cngmentitioii, 
by  hastening  its  union  with  Red  river  (which,  perhaps,  is  second  ooly  in 
flignity  to  it)  that  they  might,  from  thence,  6k»w  oix  and  j<nn  the  ocean  to- 
gather,  wliich,  for  many  leagues,  is  forced  to  nve  place  to  its  mighty  cor* 
rent  But  thtfe  are  reasons  for  believing  the  Red  river  did  not  siwaqn  tnite 
with  the  MississifX)!,  as  it  does  st  present ;  and  that  no  very  great  length 
of  time  has  elapsea  since  the  Mis8issi|^  left  its  ancient  bed,  some  miles  to 
the  eastward,  and  took  its  course  westwardly  for  the  purpose  of  intcnnaTT* 
ing  with  Red  river.  The  moutli  of  the  Chaffeli,  whioh  is  now,  propcrif 
speaking,  one  of  the  outlets  of  the  river  MJssissip|»  to  the  ocean,  is  jnst 
Below,  in  sight  of  the  junction  of  Red  river  with  the  Mississippi ;  isid  mn 
hs  resembljuice  to  ^ed  river  in  ^ze^  growth  on  its  banks,  appeanoce  and 
tiextgre  of  soil,  and  differing  from  that  of  the  Mississippi,  induces  ftronglf 
the  belief  that  the  Chaffeli  was  once  but  the  continuation  of  Red  riv^  ta^ 
the  ocean,  and  that  it  had,  in  its  bed,  no  c<mnection  wi^  the  Mimstipp. 
There  is  no  doubt  but  the  Mississii^i  has  altematdy  occupied  differest 
places  in  the  low  grounds  through  which  it  meanders,  almost  from  the  higii 
lands  of  one  dide  to  those  of  the  other,  for  the  average  space  of  near30nuki. 
These  two  great  rivers  happening  to  how,  for  a  distance,  through  the  same 
mass  of  swamp,  that  annually  is  almost  all  inundated*  it  is  not  extraordiniiy 
that  their  channels  should  find  their  way  together  ;  the  remarkable  bend  of 
the  M.ir.issippi,  at  this  place,  to  the  westward,  seems  to  hare  been  for  the 
express  purpose  of  forming  this  union  ;  after  which  it  retons  to  its  fir- 
mer course. 

In  the  month  of  March,  1803, 1  ascended  Red  river,  from  its  month  t» 
Katcliitoches,  in  an  open  bqat,  unless  when  I  chose  to  land  snd  walk  serosa 
a  point,  or  by  the  beauty  of  the  river  bank,  the  pleasantness  of  its  grwrei,  or 
the  variety  of  its  shrubs  and  flowers,  I  was  invited  aahm  to  gratify  or  plcae 
my  curiosity.  On  entering  the  mouth  of  the  river  I  found  its  waters  turrid, 
rS  a  red  colour,  and  of  a  brackish  taste  s  and  as  the  Mississippi  was  then 
fitlHnp^,  and  Red  river  rising,  found  a  current,  from  its  mouth  upwards,  viry- 
ing  considerably  in  places,  but  averaging  about  two  miles  an  hour,  for  the 
first  hundred  miles,  which,  at  that  time,  I  found  to  be  about  the  ssme  in  the 
Mississippi ;  but,  when  that  river  is  high,  snd  p.ed  river  low,  there  is  v^y 
little  current  in  the  latter,  for  sixty  or  seventy  miles  :  the  river,  for  that  dii- 
tuiice,  is  very  crooked,  incressing  the  distance*  by  it,  from  a  straight  line, 
more  than  two  thirds ;  the  gener^  course  of  it  nearly  west :  thst  I  was  abb 
to  ascertain,  from  hearing  the  morning^  «m  at  Fort  Adams,  for  three  or  fbw 
mornings  afler  entering  the  river,  whiui  was  not  st  the  greatest  height  by 
about  fourteen  feet  j  and  all  the  low  grounds,  for  near  seventy  miles,  en. 
tirely  orerflowed  like  those  of  the  Mississippi,  which,  in  feet,  is  but  a  con- 
tinuation of  tlte  same.  Some  places  appearedt,  by  the  high  water  ^^,'f 
the  trees,  to  o\'crflow  not  mere  tlian  two  or  three  feet,  particularly  the  rigbt 
bank,  below  the  mouth  of  Black  river,  and  the  left  bank  above  it;  thcgwwth, 
on  the  lowest  ]^aces,  willow  and  cotton  wood*  but  on  the  highest,  hsndsooc 
oaks,  swamp  hickory,  ash,  grape  vines,  &c. 

I  made  my  calculadon  of  our  rate  of  ascent  and  distsBoes  up  the  river,  by 
my  watch,  noting  carefully  with  my  pencil  the  minute  of  onr  stops  and  set- 
tings off;  tbe  inlets  and  outlets,  remarkable  bends  iathe  river,  and  ^^^J^J* 
I  observed  any  way  remarkable.  About  six  miles  from  the  mouth  of»* 
pver,  left  side,  there  is  a  bayau,  as  i\  is  called,  comes  in,  that  conunuiu««€t 


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wi&i  t  Iflktt  called  lake  Long,  ^n^oh,  by  another  bagran,  coauntmicates  agda 
with  the  river,  through  ix^ch,  when  there  ia  aawell  in  the  river,  boata  can 
Baas,  and  cut  off  about  SO  milea,  being  only  14  or  15  through  it,  and  about  45 
by  the  courae  of  the  river  ;  and  through  the  lake  t^ere  ia  ve^  httle  or  no 
current ;  but  the  paaaage  ia  intricate  and  difficult  to  find  ;  a  stranger  should 
not  attempt  it  without  a  pilot ;  people  have  been  lost  in  it  for  ae^^ral  days  ; 
but  not  difficult  for  one  acquainted ;  we,  having  no  pilot  on  board  to  be  de- 
pended on,  kept  the  river. 

From  the  mouth  of  Red  river  to  the  mouth  of  Black  river,  I  made  it  31 
milea :  the  water  of  Black  river  ia  clear,  and  when  contrasted  with  the 
water  of  Red  river,  has  a  black  i^ppearance.  From  the  mouth  of  Black 
river,  Red  river  makes  a  regular  twining  to  the  left,  for  a|x>ut  18  miles,  cai: 
led  the  Grand  Bend,  forming  a  segment  <^  neariy  three  fourtha  of  a  circle  ; 
when  you  arrive  at  the  bayau  that  leada  into  lake  Long,  which,  perhaps,  is  in 
a  right  line,  not  exceeding  15  miles  from  the  mOuth  of  the  river.  From 
Bayau  Lake  Long,  to  Avoyall  landing,  called  Baker's  landing,  I  made  33 
miles,  and  the  river  is  rehiarkably  cKMM^ed.  At  this  place  the  guns  at  Fort 
Adams  are  distinctly  heard,  and  the  sound  appeara  to  be  but  little  south  of 
east  We  came  through  a  bayau  called  Silver  Bayau,  that  cut  off,  we  un« 
derstand,  six  miles  ;  it  waa  through  the  bayau  about  four  miles.  Until  we^ 
arrived  ^  Baker's  landing,  saw  no  spot  of  ground  that  did  not  ovexf.ow  ;  the 
hig^  water  mark  generally  from  3  to  15  feet  above  its  banks.  After  passing 
Black  river,  the  edge  ef  the  banks  near  the  river  are  highest ;  the  land  faU^ 
from  the  river  back.  At  Baker*s  landing  I  went  ashore ;  I  understood,  from 
Baker^s  landing,  cross  the  point,  to  Le  Glaas'  landing,  was  only  3  or  4 miles,' 
and  by  water  15  ;  but  I  found  it  6  at  least,  and  met  with  some  difficulty  in 
getting  from  where  I  landed  to  the  hig4i  land  at  Baker's  house,  for  water, 
though  at  low  water  it  is  a  dry  cart  road,  and  less  than  a  mile.  I  found  Baker 
and  his  family  very  hospitable  and  kind  ;  Mr.  Baker  told  me  he  was  rnative 
of  Virginia,  and  had  lived  there  upwards  of  30  years.  He  was  living  on  a 
tolerable  good  high  piece  of  land,  not  prairie,  but  joining  it  Afler  leaning 
Baker's  house,  was  soon  in  sight  of  the  prairie,  which,  I  understand,  is  aboiS 
40  miles  in  circumference,  longer  than  it  is  wide,  very  level,  only  a  few 
dumps  of  trees  to  be  seen,  «11  covered  with  goOd  grass.  The  inhabitants- 
are  settled  all  around  the  out  edge  of  it,  by  the  w(x>ds,  their  houses  facing 
inwards,  and  cultivate  the  prairie  land,  lliougfa  the  soil,  when  turned  im 
by  the  plough,  has  a  good  appearance,  what  I  could  discover  by  the  old  corn 
and  cotton  stalks,  they  made  but  indifferent  crops  ;  the  timber  land  that  I 
saw  cleared  and  planted,  produced  the  best  {  the  prairie  is  better  for  grass 
than  for  pbinting.  The  ii^iabitapts  have  cooaideraUe  stocks  of  cattle,  ^diich 
appears  to  be  their  principal  dependence,  and  I  was  informed  their  beef  is' 
of  a  Buperiour  qusH^ :  they  have  likewise  good  pork  ;  hogs  live  very  will ; 
the  timbered  country  all  round  the  prairie  is  principally  oak,  that  produces 
good  mast  for  hogs.  Corn  is  generally  scarce  ;  they  raise  no  wheat,  for 
they  have  no  mills.  I  was  informed  that  the  lower  end  of  the  prairie,  that 
I  did  not  see,  was  much  the  richest  land,  and  the  inhalntants  lived  better, 
and  were  more  wealthy ;  they  are  a'roixture  of  French,  Irish  and  Americans* 

fenerally  poor  and  ignorant  Avcjrall,  at  high  water,  is  an  island,  elevated 
0  or  40  feet  above  high  water  mark  j  the  quantity  of  timbered  land  exceeds 
that  of  the  nrairie,  which  is  likevrise  pretty  level,  but  scarcely  a  second 
quality  of  soil.  La  Glass'  landing,  as  it  is  called,  I  found  about  a  mile  and  a' 
half  from  the  upper  end  of  the  prairie  j  the  high  lands  bluff  to  the  river. 
After  leaving  this  place  found  the  banks  rise  higher  and  higher  on  each  side/ 
and  fit  for  settlements  ;  on  the  right  side  pine  woods  sometimes  in  sight  \ 
left  the  boat  again  abont  eight  miles  from  Le  Glass'  Isnding,  right  side  » 
walked  two  and  a  half  miles  across  a  point,  to  a  Mr.  Hoomes' ;  round  the 
point  is  called  16  miles.     I  Ibund  the  lands,  through  which  I  passed,  high/ 


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i4  ASmtfCAS   tTATm  TAMm^ 

nodcnMjrhifir^  the  sett  a  good  second  quilhy,  cluy ;  ti|sbtr,ktge<i«l, 
hickory,  some  short  leaved  pine  ;  and  several  small  streams  of  ckar  nmnfB^ 
water.  This  descriptran  of  lands  extended  back  5  or  6  miles,  and  bouncktl 
l^  open  ptne  woods,  which  continue,  for  30  miles,  to  Ocatshola.  1  found 
Mr.  HooiQes'  house  on  a  hig^  bluif  very  near  the  river ;  his  plantation  the 
Siune  description  of  land  through  which  1  liad  passed,  producing  good  con, 
cotton  and  tobacco*  and  be  told  me  he  had  tried  it  in  wheat,  which  succeed- 
ed welly  but  having  no  mills  to  manufacture  it,  had  only  made  tlte  eiperi* 
ment  Mr.  Hoones  toAd  me  all  the  lands  round  his,  for  many  miles,  were 
vacant  On  the  south  side  there  is  a  large  body  o^'  rich,  low  grounds,  ex. 
tending  to  the  borders  of  Appalousa,  watered  and  drained  by  Bayau  Robert 
and  Bayau  Beaof,  two  handbome  streams  of  eloar  water  that  rise  in  the  high 
lands  between  Red  river  and  Sabine,  and  aller  meandering  through  litis  im- 
mense mass  of  low  grounds  of  30  or  40  miles  square,  fall  into  the  Cliafleli, 
to  the  south  ward  of  AvoyaU.  I  beliexe,  in  point  of  soil,  growth  o(  timber, 
gppdness  of  water,  and  conveniency  to  navigation,  there  is  not  a  more  vahia- 
Ule  body  of  land  in  thia  part  of  Louisiana.  Prom  Mr.  Hoomes'  t9  tlie  mouth 
of  Hapide  t^syaxLit,  by  the  river,  35  miles.  A  f<^w  scatteriitg  settlements  on 
tbe  right  sido,  but  none  on  the  left  ;  the  right  is  preferred  to  settle  on,  on 
accoiint  of  their  stocks  being  comenient  to  the  high  lands  ;  but  the  aettkn 
on  th^  rig*  t  side  own  the  l^ids  on  the  left  aide  too  ;  the  lands  on  the  Bayiu 
Rapide  are  the  same  quality  as  tliose  on  fiayaus  Robert  and  Beauf,  and,  in 
fact,  are  a  continuation  of  tlie  same  body  of  lands.  Bayau  Rapide  is  some^ 
what  in  the  form  of  a  half  moon  ;  the  two  points,  or  horns,  meeting  the  riirer 
about  20  miles  from  each  other  :  the  length  of  the  bayau  is  about  30  miles  i 
on  the  back  of  it  there  is  a  large^bayau  falls  in,  on  which  there  is  a  saw  miB, 
very  advantageously  situated,  in  respect  to  a  never  failing  supply  of  water ; 
plenty  of  timber  ;  and  the  pfauik  can  be^^taken  from  the  mill  Uul  by  water. 
This  bayau  is  excellent  water ;  rises  in  the  pine  woods,  and  discharges  itself 
each  way  into  the  river,  by  both  ends  of  Bayau  Rapide.  Boats  cannot  piss 
through  the  bayau,  from  the  river  to  the  river  again,  on  account  of  rafts  of 
timber  choaking  the  upper  end  of  it,  but-can  enter  the  lower  end  and  ascend 
It  more  than  hidf  through  it  Qn  tlie  lower  end  of  the  bayau^  on  each  side, 
is  the  principal  Rapide  settlement,  as  it  is  calJci)  ;  no  country  whatever  can 
exhibit  handsomer  plantations,  or  better  lands.  Tlie  Rafude  is  a  foil,  or 
ahoal,  occasioned  by  a  soft  rock  in  the  bed  of  the  river,  that  extends  from 
aide  to  side,  over  which,  for  about  five  nnontlis  in  the  year,  (viz.)  frm  July 
to  December,  there  is  not  suflicicnt  wat^r  for  boats  to  pass  without  ligliten- 
ing,  but  at  all  other  seasons  it  is  the  ssme  as  any  oUier  part  of  the  river. 
This  rock,  or  hard  day,  for  it  resembles  the  latter  almost  as  much  as  the 
former,  is  so  soft  it  may  be  cut  awa^  with  a  p^n  knife,  or  any  sharp  instm- 
ment,  aiul  scarcely  turn  the  edge,  and  extends  up  and  down  the  river  but  a 
few  yards  ;  and  I  ha%'e  heard  severi^  intelligent  persons  giixj  it  as  their 
opinion,  that  tlie  extraordinary  expense  and  troub^  the  inhabitants  were  at, 
in  one  year,  in  getting  load^  boats  over  tliis  shoal,  would  be  more  than  suf- 
ficient to  cut  a  passage  tluxiugh  it ;  but  it  happens  at  a  season  of  the  year 
when  the  able  planters  are  occupied  at  home,  and  w<>old  make  no  use  of  the 
river  were  thevc  no  obstructions  in  it ;  but  at  any  rate,  the  na^-igation  of  the 
river  is  clear  a  longer  proportion  of  the  year  than  the  rivers  m  the  northern 
countries  are  clear  of  ico-  But  tliis  obstruction  is  certainly  removable,  at  a 
very  trifling  expense,  in  comparison  to  the  importance  of  having  it  done  t 
and  nothing  but  the  nature  of  the  government  we  have  lately  emergt^l  fr*"^ 
can  l>e  assigned  as  a  reason  for  its  not  having  been  effected  long  ago. 

After  piSsing  tlie  Rapides  there  are  very  few  settlements  to  be  seen,  on 
this,  main  river,  for  about  20  miles,  tliough  both  sidca  appeared  to  mc  to  be 
capable  of  making  as  valuable  settlements  as  any  on  tJ\e  river  t  we  trrm 
tii«i  at  the  Xm^ati  vmages,  gn  both  fides»  situa^^  exQopiingly  p|c«sa»tf  «l^ 


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jlum»,icjl»  stats  PAnmSr  9$ 

.en  the  best  lands  ;  tiler  pamm^  which  you  anrive  at  a  l«rgev^>es^!ittftil  plan- 
tation of  Mr.  Gillard ;  the  hou3e  is  on  a  point  of  a  hig^  pine  woocb  bUiif,  ciosm 
to  tlie  river,  60  or  70  feet  above  the-  common  surface  x)f  the  country,  over- 
looking', on  the  east,  or  opposite  side,  very  extensive  fields  of  low  groutadSy 
in  hij^i  cultivation,  and  a  long  reach  of  the  river,  up  and  down  ;  and  there 
■  is  an  excellent  spring  of  water  issues  from  the  bluft,  on  which  the  house  is 
situated,  from  an  aperture  in  tlie  rock  that  seems  to  have  been  cloven  on 
purpose  for  it  to  flow,  and  a  small  distance,  back  of  the  house,  thei*e  is  m 
lake  of  clear  water,  abounding^  with  fish  in  summer  and  fowl  in  winter.  1 
have  seen  hi  ail  my  life,  very  lew  more  beautiful  or  advantageously  situated 
places. 

Six  miles  above  GiUard's,  you  arrive  at  the  small  village  of  Boluxa  Indians, 
where  tlie  river  is  divided  into  two  channels,  forming  an  island  of  about  50 
miles  in  length,  and  3  or  4  in  breadth.  .The  right  hand  division  is  called  th«^ 
Rigula  de  Bondieu,  on  which  are  no  settlements  ;  but,  I  am  hiibrmed,  will 
admit  of  being  well  settled  ;  the  left  hand  division  is  the  boat  channel,  at 
present,  to  Natchitoches  :  the  other  is  Ukewise  boatable.  Ascendinjr  the 
Left  hand  branch  for  about  24  miles,  we  pass  a  thick  settlement  and  a  nunr- 
ber  of  wealtliy  inhabitants.  Tliis  is  called  the  Jfiver  Cane  settlement ;  called 
so,  I  believe,  from  the  bai^  some  years  ago,  being  a  remarkable  thick 
cane -brake, 

Afler  passing  this  settlement  of  about  forty  families,  the  river  divides 
again,  forming  another  island  of  about  tliirty  mtlcs  in  length,  and  from  two 
to  foiu*  in  breadth,  called  the  liie  Brevei,  after  a  rejiutable  old  man  now  liv- 
ing' in  it,  who  first  settled  it.  This  island  is  sub-divided  b)'  a  bayau  that 
communicates  from  one  river  to  the  other,  called  also  Bayau  Brevel.  l*he 
middle  division  of  the  river,  is  called  Little  river,  and  it  is  tliickly  settled, 
and  is  the  boat  channel  :  the  westward  division  of  the  river  is  called  False 
river ;  is  navigable,  but  not  settled ;  the  banks  are  too  low ;  it  passes  through 
a  Lake  called  Lac  Occatsa,  When  yoU  arrive  at  Natchitoches,  you  find  it  a 
small,  irregular,  and  meanly  buih  village,  half  a  dozen  houses  excepted,  oQ 
the  west  side  of  that  dirision  of  the  river  it  is  on,  the  high  pine  and  oak 
.  woods  approach  within  two  or  three  hundred  yards  of  the  river.  In  tfao 
village  are  about  forty  families,  twelve  or  fif^en  arc  merchants  or  traders, 
nearly  all  French.  tThe  fort  built  by  our  troops  since  their  arrival,  called 
Fort  Claiborne,  is  situated  on  a  smsdl  hill,  one  street  from  the  river,  and 
about  thirty  feet  higher  than  the  river  banks.  All  the  hill  is  occvpied  fay 
the  fort  and  barracks,  and  does  not  exceed  two  aet«s  of  ground.  The 
southern  and  eastern  prospects  from  it  are  very  beauti^.  One  has  an  ex- 
tensive view  of  the  fields  and  habitations  down  the  river,  and  the  other  a 
similar  view  over  the  river,  and  of  the  whole  village.  This  town,  thirty  or 
forty  years  ago,  was  much  larger  than  at  present,  and  situated  on  a  hlU 
about  half  a  mile  from  its  present  site.  Then  most  of  the  families  of  the 
district  lived  in  tlie  town,  but  finding  it  inconvenient  on  account  of  the  stoctar 
and  fiums,  they  filed  off,  one  afler  anofther,  and-  settled  up  and  down  the 
river.  The  merchants  and  trading  people  foiuid  beings  on  the  bank  of  the 
river  more  convenient  for  loading  and  unloading  tiieir  boats,*  left  the  hill  on 
that  account ;  and  otiiers,  finding  the  ri#er  ground  nmck  superiour  for  gar- 
dens, to  which  they  are  in  the  habit  of  pajring  great  attention,  followed  the 
merchants  ;  after  them  the  priests  and  commandant ;  then  the  church  and 
jail  (or  calleboose),  and  now  nothing*  of  the  old  town  iff  left,  but  the  form  of 
their  gardens  and  some  ornamental  trees.  It  is  now  a  very  extensive  com- 
mon of  several  hundred  acres,  entirely  tufted  with  clover,  and  covered  with 
sheep  and  cattle.  The  hiU  is  a  stiff  clay,  and  used  to  make  miry  streets  ; 
the  river  soil,  though  much  richer,  is  of  a  loose,  sandy,  texture  ;  the  street* 
are  neither  miry  nor  very  dusty.  Our  weUs  do  not  aflord  us  good  water, 
and  the  river  water,  in  summtr,  is  too  brackish  to  drinJCj  and  nevar  dttr. 


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f6  AliKBICAK  STATE   PAPBB8. 


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AMERICAK  StATB   l^A^^ftS.  $7 

ijnid  the  settlements  on  Mississippi,  from  Point  Coupee,  upwards,  lower  thain 
they  can  ^et  it  in  New-Orleans  and  bring  it  up.  Cathartic  salts,  and  mag** 
nesia,  might  likewise  be  made  in  large  quantities,  if  they  understood  it  Th# 
country  all  round  the  Sabine  and  Black  like  is  vacant^  and  from  thence  to 
Washita,  a  distance  of  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles,  which  I  am  in- 
formed idfords  considerable  quantities  of  well  timbered  good  uplands,  and 
well  watered.  There  is  a  small  stream  we  cross  on  the  Washita  road,  th« 
English  call  it  Little  Rhcr,  the  French  Dogdiniona,  affording  a  wide  rich 
bottom  :  this  stream  falls  into  tlie  Acatahola  lake  ;  from  thence  to  Washita, 
it  is  called  Acatahola  river  ;  its  course  is  eastwardly,  and  falls  into  Washita, 
near  the  mouth  of  Tensaw,  where  the  road  from  Natchitoches  to  Natchez, 
crosses  it ;  from  the  confluence  of  these  three  rivers,  downwards,  it  is  called 
Black  river,  which  falls  into  Red  river,  sixty  miles  below.  There  is  a  good 
salt  spring  near  the  Acatahola  lake. 

Ascending  Red  river,  above  Natcliitoches,  in  ibout  three  miles  arrive  at 
the  upper  mouth  of  the  Rigula  de  Bondicu  :  there  are  settlements  all  along ; 
plantations  adjoining.  From  the  upper  mouth  of  the  Rigula  de  Bondleu,  me 
river  is  one  channel  through  the  settlement  called  Grand  Erore,  of  about  six 
miles  ;  it  is  called  Grand  Ecore,  (or  in  English  tlie  Great  Bluffy  being  such 
a  one  on  tlie  left  hand  side,  near  one  hundred  feet  high.  The  face  next  the 
river,  almost  perpendicular,  of  a  soft,  white  rock  j  tlie  top,  a  gravel  loam,  of 
considerable  extent,  on  which  grow  large  oaks,  hickory,  black  cherry,  and 
grap>e  vines.  At  the  bottom  of  one  of  these  bluffs,  for  there  are  two  near 
each  other,  is  a  large  quantity  of  stone-coal,  and  near  them  several  sprint  of 
the  best  water  in  this  part  of  the  country  ;  and  a  lake  of  clear  water  within 
two  hundred  yards,  bounded  by  a  gfravelly  margin.  I  pretend  to  have  no 
knowledge  of  military  tacticks,but  tmnk,  from  the  river  in  this  place  being  all 
in  one  channel,  the  goodness  of  the  water,  a  high,  healthy  country,  and  well 
timbered  all  round  it,  no  height  near  it  so  high,  its  commanding  the  river,  and 
A  very  publick  ferry  just  under  it,  and  at  a  small  expense,  would  be  cM)able  of 
great  defence  with  a  small  force.  The  road  from  it  to  the  westwara,  better 
than  from  Nachitoch,  and  by  land  only  about  five  miles  above  it,  and  near  it 
plenty  of  good  builc^g  stone.  These  advantages  it  possesses  beyond  any 
other  place  within  my  knowledge  on  the  river,  for  a  strong  fort,  and  safe 
place  of  deposit  Just  about  this  bluff,  the  river  makes  a  large  bend  to  the 
right,  and  a  long  reach  nearly  due  east  and  west  by  it ;  the  bluff  overlooks, 
on  the  opposite  side,  several  handsome  plantations.  I  have  been  induced, 
from  the  advantages  this  place  appeared  to  me  to  possess,  to  purchase  it, 
with  four  or  five  small  settlements  aidjoining,  including  both  bluffs,  the  ferry, 
springs  and  lake,  the  stone  quarries,  and  coal  ;  and  a  field  of  about  five  hun- 
dred acres  of  the  best  low  grounds,  on  the  opposite  side.  After  leaving  Grand 
Ecore,  about  a  mile,on  the  left  side  comes  in  a  large  bayau,  from  the  Spanish 
lake,  as  it  is  called,  beatable  the  greater  part  of  the  year.  This  lake  is  said 
to  be  about  fifty  miles  in  circumference,  and  rises  and  faUs  with  the  river, 
into  which,  fit)m  the  river,  the  largest  boats  may  ascend,  and  from  it,  up  the 
mouths  of  several  large  bayaus  that  fall  into  it,  for  some  distance,  one  in  par- 
ticular called  bayau  Dupong,  up  which  boats  may  ascend  within  one  and  a 
half  mile  of  old  fort  Adaize.  Leaving  this  ba}'uu  about  two  miles,  arrive  at 
a  foric  or  division  of  the  river  ;  the  left  hand  branch  bears  westwardly  for 
iixty  or  eighty  miles  ;  then  eastwardly,  meeting  the  branch  it  left,  after  form- 
ing an  island  of  about  one  hundred  miles  long,  and,  in  some  places,  neariy 
thirty  miles  wide.  Six  or  seven  years  ago,  boats  used  to  pass  this  way  into 
the  main  river  again  ;  its  communication  with  which  being  above  the  great 
raft  or  obstruction  u  but  it  is  now  choaked,  and  requires  a  portage  of  three 
miles  ;  but  at  any  season,  boats  can  go  frt>m  Natchitoches,  about  eighty  mlle^, 
to  the  place  called  the  pointy  where  the  French  had  a  factory,  and  a  small 
station  of  soldiers  to  guard  the  Indian  trade,  and  is  now  undoubtedly  a  very 

Vol.  III.  Appendix.        H 


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4i9  AMKftlCAll  STATS  PAPEB8. 

eligible  situation  ibr  a  similar  estabUshinent  The  countiy  bounded  to  ^ 
east  and  north,  by  this  branch  or  division  of  the  river,  is  caUed  the  bav«| 
Pierre  settlement,  which  was  begun,  and  some  of  the  lands  granted  beuie 
Louisiana  was  ceded  to  Spain  by  France,  and  continued  under  the  jurisdic- 
tion of  the  commandant  of  Natchitoches  until  about  twenty  years  ago,  i^ea, 
by  an  agreement  between  a  Mr.  Vogone,  tiien  commandant  of  this  place,  aad 
a  Mr.  Elibarbe,  concmiandant  at  Natchitoches^  the  settlement  called  baysi 
Pierre,  was  placed  under  the  juriadietion  of  the  latter,  and  has  so  continued 
ever  since.  The  settlement,  1  believe,  contains  about  forty  families,  aad 
generally  they  have  large  stocJu  of  cattle  :  they  supply  us  with  our  cheese 
entirely,  and  of  a  tolerable  quality,  and  we  get  from  them  some  exceUei* 
bacon  hams.  The  country  is  interspersed  with  prairies,  resembliog,  as  to 
richness,  the  river  bottoms,  and,  in  aize,  from  nve  to  five  thousand  sctm 
The  hills  are  a  good  g^y  soil,  and  produce  very  well,  and  aiford  beautiful 
situations.  The  creek  called  Bayau  Pierre,  (stony  creek)  passes  through 
the  settlement,  and  aiibrds  a  number  of  good  mill  seats,  and  its  bed  and 
banks  lined  with  a  good  kind  of  building  stone,  but  no  mills  are  erected  ob 
it  Some  of  the  inliabitants  have  tried  tlie  uplands  in  wheat,  which  succeed- 
ed well.  They  are  high,  gently  rolling,  and  rich  enough  i  produce  good 
com,  cotton,  and  tobacco.  I  was  through  the  settlement  in  July  last,  tad 
found  good  water,  either  from  a  spring  or  well,  at  every  house.  The  inhab- 
itants are  aU  French,  one  family  excepted.  A  few  miles  to  the  westwiid, 
towards  Sabine,  there  is  a  Saline,  where  the  inhabitants  go  and  make  their 
salt  On  the  whole,  for  health,  good  water,  good  living,  plenty  of  ibod  ftr 
every  kind  of  animal,  general  conveniency,  and  handsome  surface,  1  haie  sees 
few  parts  of  the  world  nnore  inviting  to  settlers. 

Returning  back  again  to  the  fork  of  the  main  river  we  left,  tor  the  puipoM 
of  exploring  tlie  Bayau  Pierre  branch,  we  find  irregular  settlements,  inoud- 
ingCampti,  where  a  few  families  are  settled  together  on  a  hiU  near  tbemer, 
northeast  side.  For  about  20  miles,  the  river  land  is  much  the  same  every 
where,  but  the  Campti  settlement  is  more  broken  with  bayaus  and  hgoooi 
than  any  place  I  am  acquainted  with  on  the  river,  and  for  want  of  alwut  a 
dozen  bridges  is  inconvenient  to  get  to,  or  travel  tlirougii.  Tlie  upper  end 
of  this  settlement  is  the  last  on  tlie  main  branch  of  Red  river,  which,  straight 
by  land,  does  not  exceed  25  miles  above  Natchitoches.  At  the  upper  house 
the  g^at  rafl  or  jam  of  timber  begins  ;  Uiis  raft  choaks  the  main  channel  fiv 
upwards  of  100  miles,  by  the  course  of  the  river  ;  not  one  entire  jam  froB 
the  beginning  to  the  end  of  it,  but  oiUy  at  the  points,  with  places  of  sevcnl 
leagues  that  are  clear.  The  river  is  very  crooked,  and  the  low  grounds  a» 
wide  and  rich,  and  I  am  informed,  no  part  of  Red  river  will  mbrd  better 
plantations  than  along  its  banks  by  this  raft,  which  is  represented  as  being* 
important  as  to  render  the  country  above  it  of  little  value  for  settfcmenti  \ 
this  opinion  is  founded  entirely  upon  incorrect  information.  The  first  or 
lowest  part  of  the  rail  is  at  a  bend  or  point  in  the  river,  just  below  the  uppef 
plantation,  at  which,  on  tlie  right  side,  a  h^|ge  bayau,  or  division  of  the  nv&, 
called  Bayau  Channo,  comes  in,  which  is  free  of  any  obstructions,  and  tbs 

S eater  part  of  the  year  boats  of  any  size  may  ascend  it,  into  lake  BistoA 
rougli  which,  to  its  communication  with  the  lake,  is  only  about  three  md«  I 
the  lake  is  about  60  miles  long,  and  lays  nearly  parallel  with  the  river,  mHtt 
the  upper  end  of  which  it  communicates  again  with  tlie  river,  by  a  bayau 
called  Daicficty  about  40  miles  above  the  upper  end  of  tlie  raft ;  from  the  law 
to  the  river,  through  Bayau  Daichet,  is  called  nine  miles  ;  there  is  "^^^^ 
this  bayau  sufficient  water  for  any  boat  to  pass ;  from  thence  upwards  Rea 
river  is  free  of  all  obstructions  to  the  mountains.  By  lake  Bistino,  and  these 
two  bayaus,  an  island  is  formed,  abqut  70  miles  loi^,  aiid  tliree  or  four  w»i 
capable  of  Wording  settlen>ents  inferiour  to  none  on  the  river.  From  the  awvs 
acoount  you  will  perceive,  that  the  only  difficulty  in  opcninsf  a  boat  passage 
by  this  raft,  tJirough  the  lake,  which  is  much  sjwrter  than  by  tlic  co""^^ 
the  river,  and  avoid  the  current,  and  indeed,  was  tlie  river  unobstnictcOi 


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AXX1UCAS  STATS   PAFXKft.  99 

mo\dd  ilwtyi  be  preferred,  is  this  smail  jam' of  timber  let  tfaepcttit,  just  be- 
iow  the  bayau  Chumo,  as  it  is  called. 

After  the  recent  of  yoxir  letter,  1  had  an  omxirtunitjr  of  seeing  some  of  the 
inhabitants  who  hve  near  this  phtce,  vrho  informed  me,  that  that  small  raft 
-pras  easUy  broken,  and  that  they  had  lately  been  talking  of  doin?  it  I  per- 
fiuaded  them  to  make  the^rttempt,  and  they  accordingly  appoin^d  the  Friday 
following,  and  all  the  neighbours  were  to  be  invited  to  att^id  and  assist 
They  met  accordingly,  and  effected  a  passage  next  to  one  bank  of  the  river, 
BO  that  boats  could  pass,  but  did  not  entirely  break  it ;  they  intend  to  take 
another  spell  at  it,  when  the  water  falls  a  fittle,  and  speak  confidently  of 
;wcceeding. 

The  country  about  the  head  of  hike  Bisthio,  is  hi^y  spoken  of,  as  Well 
the  high  lands,  as  the  river  bottom.  There  are  fidhn^  into  the  river  and 
lake  in  the  vicinity,  some  handsome  streimis  of  dear  wholesome  water  from 
towards  Washita,  one  in  particular  called  bayau  Badkah  by  the  Indians, 
^vhich  is  boatable  at  some  seasons ;  this  bayau  passes  through  a  long,  narrow 
and  rich  prairie,  on  which,  my  informant  says,  500  families  might  be  desira- 
bly settled  ;  and  from  thence  up  to  where  the  Caddos  lately  li^d,  the  river 
banks  are  high,  bottoms  wide  and  rich  as  any  other  part  of  the  river.  From 
thence  it  is  much  the  same  to  the  mouth  of  the  Little  river  of  the  left  ;  thia 
river  is  gienerally  from  50  to  an  100  yards  wide  ;  heads  in  the  c;reat  prairies, 
south  of  Red  river,  and  interWcks  with  die  head  branches  of  tike  Sabine  and 
Trinity  rivers  ;  and  in  times  of  high  water  is  boatable  40  or  50  leagues,  af^ 
Ibrding  a  large  body  of  excellent,  well  timbered  and  rich  land,  the  low 
[grounds  from  3  to  6  miles  wide  :  but  the  quality  of  the  water,  though  clear, 
B  very  inferiour  to  that  of  the  streams  that  fall  into  Red  river  on  the  north 
side.  The  general  course  of  the  Red  river  from  this  upwards  is  nearly  from 
west  to  east,  till  we  arrive  at  the  Panis  towns,  when  it  turns  northwest- 
wardly. After  leaving  the  mouth  of  the  Little  river  of  the  left,  both  banks 
are  covered  with  strong,  thick  cane  for  about  30  miles  ;  the  low  groimds 
very  wide,  rich,  and  do  not  overflow  ;  the  river  widening  in  proportion  at 
the  banks  are  less  liable  to  ovei*flow ;  you  arrive  at  a  hiindsome,  rich  prairie, 
25  miles  long  on  the  right  side,  and  4  or  5  miles  wide  ;  bounded  by  hand- 
some oak  and  hickory  woods,  mixed  with  some  short -leaved  pine,  interspers* 
ed  with  pleasant  streams  and  foui\tains  of  water.  The  opposite,  or  left  side 
is  a  continuation  of  thick  cane  ;  the  river  or  low  lands  10  or  12  miles  wide. 
After  leaving  the  prairie,the  cjine  continues  for  about  40  miles  ;  j'outhen  ar- 
rive at  anotlier  prairie,  called  Little  prairie,  left  side,  about  5  miles  in  length, 
and  from  2  to  3  in  breadth  ;  opposite  side  continues  cane  as  before  ;  Tow 
lands  wide,  well  timbered,  >^ry  rif^b,  and  overflow  but  little  ;  the  river  still 
widening.  Back  of  tlie  low  groimds,  is  a  w<ill  timbered,  rich  upland  coim- 
try  ;  gently  rolling  and  well  watered  ;  fi*om  the  Little  prairie,  both  banks 
cane  for  10  or  12  miles,  w!ien  the  onk  and  pine  woods  come  bluft'  to  the 
river  for  about  5  miles  ;  left  hand  side,  cane  us  before  ;  then  the  same  on 
both  sides,  for  from  10  to  20  miles  wide,  for  alxnit  15  miles,  when  the  cedar 
begins  on  both  sides,  and  is  the  princijwl  growth  on  the  wide,  rich  river 
bottom  for  40  miles  ;  in  all  the  world  there  is  scarcely  to  be  found  a  more 
beautiful  growth  of  cedar  limber ;  they,  like  the  cedars  of  Libanas,  are 
large,  lofty  and  straight. 

You  now  arrive  at  the  mouth  of  the  Little  river  of  the  right ;  this  river  is 
about  150  yards  wide  :  the  water  dear  as  chr}stal ;  the  bottom  of  the  river 
ptony,  and  is  boatable,  at  higJi  water,  up  to  the  great  prairies  near  300  miles  by 
the  course  of  the  river ;  the  low  grounds  generally  from  10  to  XS  miles  wide, 
abounding  with  the  most  hiKuriunt  growth  of  rich  timber,  but  subject  to 
partial  inundation  at  pftrticiilar  rainy  seasons.  After  leaving  this  river,  both 
banks  pf  Red  river  A!e  cane  as  before,  for  about  20  miles,  when  you  come 
to  the  round  prairie,  rigfit  tiide,  about  5  miles  in  circumference.  At  this 
place  Red  river  is  foiHlk!)lf  ut  low  water  ;  a  hard  stony  bottom,  and  is  tlie 
^t  place  from  its  ipoutli  u'liere  it  can  be  forded.     Tliis  round  prairie  jif 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


€0  AMERICAN    STATB   PAP£ES. 

hirh  vid  pleasant,  surrounded  by  handBoxne  oak  and  hickory  uplaxids  ;   left 
aide  cane  as  before,  ai\d  thea  the  same  both  sides  for  20  miles,   to   the  loog- 
prairie,  left  side,  40  miles  long  ;    opposite  side  cane  as  before  ;     near  the 
middle  of  this  prairie,  there  is  a  lake  of  about  5  miles  in  circumference,  in 
an  oval  form,  neither  tree  nor  shrub  near  it,  nor  stream  of  water  runBing- 
cither  in  or  out  of  it  ;   it  is  very  deep,  and  the  water  so  limpid  that  a '&£ 
may  be  seen  15  feet  from  tlie  surface.     By  the  side  of  tliis  lake  tlie   Caddo- 
quies  hare  lived  from  time  immemorial.      About  one  mile  from   tlie  lake  is 
the  hill  on  which,  they  say,  the  g^at  spirit  placed  one  Caddo  family,  ycho 
were  sared  when,  by  a  general  deluge,  all  the  world  were  drowned  ;    &om 
which  family  all  tlie  Indians  have  originated.      For  this  little  natural  emi- 
nence all  the  Indian  tribes,  as  well  as  tlie  Caddoquies,  for  a  great  distance, 
pay  a  devout  and  sacred  homage.      Here  the  French,  for  many  years  be^ire 
Louisiana  was  ceded  to  Spain,  had  erected  a  small  fort  ;  kept  some  soldSen 
to  guard  a  factory  they  had  here  established  for  the  Indian  trade,  and  severd 
French  families  were  settled  in  the  vicinity,  built  a  flour  mill,  and  cultivated 
wheat  successfully  for  several  years  ;  and  it  is  only  a  few  years  ago  that  the 
mill  irons  and  mill  stones  were  brought  down  :    it  is  about  25  ^ears  since 
those  French  families  moved  down,  and  14  years  since  the  Caddoquies  left  it. 
Here  is  another  fording  place  when  the  river  is  low.    On  the  opposite  side  a 
point  of  hig^  oak,  hickory,  and  pine  land  comes  bluff  to  the  river  for  about  a 
mile  ;  afler  wliich,  thick  cane  to  the  upper  end  of  the  prairie  ;  then  the  same 
on  both  sides  for  about  12  miles  ;  then  prairie  on  the  leu  side  for  20  miles,  op- 
posite side  cane  ;  then  tlie  same  for  30  miles,  then  an  oak  high  bluff  3  miies^ 
caoe  again  for  about  the  same  dist:mce,  on  botli  sides  ;   then  for  about  one 
league,  left:  side,  is  a  beautiful  grove  of  paeans,  intermixed  with  no  olher 
growth  ;  after  which,  cane  both  sides  for  40  miles  ;  then  prairie,  left  side, 
for  20  miles,  and  from  one  to  two  miles  only  in  depth  ;  about  the  middle  of 
which  comes  in  a  bayau  of  clear  running  water,  about  50  feet  wide  ;   then 
cane  again  both  sides  the  river  for  about  49  miles  ;   tlien,  on  the  right  side, 
a  point  of  hig^  pine  woods  bluff  to  the  river  for  about  half  a  mile,  cane  again 
15  or  16  miles  ;  tlien  a  bluff  of  large  wiiite  rocks  for  about  half  a  mile,  near 
100  feet  higfi,  cane  again  about  45  miles,  to  a  prsurie  on  the  right  side,  of 
about  30  miles  long,  and  12  or  15  miles  wide  ;  tliere  is  a  tliin  skirt  of  u-ood 
•long  the  bank  of  the  river,  that  when  the  leaves  are  on  the  trees,  tlie  prairie 
is,  from  the  river,  scarcely  to  be  seen.     From  tlie  upper  end  of  this  prairie 
It  is  tliick  cane  again  for  about  six  miles,  when  we  arrive  to  the  mouth  of 
Bayau  Galle,  which  is  on  the  right  side,  about  30  yards  wide,  a  beautiful, 
clear,  running  stream  of  wholesome  well  tasted  water  ;  after  passing  which 
it  is  thick  cane  again  for  25  miles,  when  wc  arrive  at  a  river  that  falls  in  on 
the  riglit  side,  which  is  called  by  the  Indians  KiomJichie,  and  by  the  French 
La  Riviere  la  Mine,  or  Mine  river,  which  is  about  150  yards  wide,  the  water 
cleiir  and  good,  and  is  beatable  about  60  miles  to  the  silver  mine,  which  i» 
on  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  tlie  ore  appears  in  large  quantities,  but  the 
riclmess  of  it  is  not  known.     Tlie  Indians  inform  of  their  discovering  another, 
about  a  year  ago,  on  a  creek  that  empties  into  tlie  Kiomitcbie,  about  three 
miles  from  its  mouth,  the  ore  of  wliich  they  say  resembles  tlic  other.    The 
bottom  land  of  tliis  river  is  not  wide,  but  rich  ;  the  adjoining  hi^  lands  arc 
rich,  well  timbered,  well  watered  and  situated.      About  tlie  mine  the  cur- 
rent of  the  river  is  too  stirmg  for  boats  to  ascend  it,  the  cOmitry  being  hilly. 
After  passing  the  Kiomitchie,  both  b:aiks  of  tlie  river  ai*e  covered  with  thick 
cane  fiir  25  miles,  then,  left  side,  a  high  pine  bluff  appears  again  to  the  rirer 
for  about  half  a  mile,  after  wliich  notJiing  but  rane  again  on  each  side  for 
about  40  miles,  which  brings  you  to  the  mouth  of  a  liandsome  bayau,  IcfV 
side,  called  by  tlie  Intlians  Kahaucha,  wliich,  in  English,  means  the  Kick  i 
the  French  call  it  Boit  d'Arc,  or  Bow-wood  creek,  from  tlie  large  quaality 
of  that  wood  that  grows  u}K)n  it.     On  this  bayau  ti-appers  have  been  more 
successful  in  catching  beaver  than  on  any  other  water  of  Red  river  j  it  com- 
Biimicates  with  a  lake,  three  or  four  miles  from  its  mouth,  called  Swan  Isk^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


AMBKICAN  BTATE  PAPBKSv  61 

I  the  grett  nuihber  of  swan  tl^at  frequent  it ;  it  is  believed  that  thit 
iMmui  is  boatable  at  high  water,  for  20  or  30  leagues,  from  what  I  have  been 
inranned  by  some  hunters  with  whom  I  have  converged,  who  have  been 
upon  it  The  low  grouuds'  are  from  three  to  six  miles  wide,  very  rich,  the 
principal  growth  on  it  is  the  Bois  d*arc.  The  great  prairies  approach  pretty 
near  the  low  grounds  on  each  side  of  this  creek  ;  leaving  wliicli  it  is  cane 
both  sides  for  about  eight  miles,  when  we  arrive  at  the  moutli  of  the  Vaz- 
zures,  or  Bocgy  river,  which  is  tibout  200  yards  wide,  soft  miry  bottom,  the 
-water  whitish,  but  well  tasted.  Attempts  have  been  made  to  ascend  it  in 
perogues,  but  it  was  found  to  be  obstructed  by  a  raft  of  logs,  about  20  miles 
up.  The  current  was  found  to  be  gentle,  and  depth  of  water  sufficient ; 
was  the  channel  not  obstructed  might  be  ascended  far  up*  The  low 
grounds  on  this  river  are  not  as  wide  as  on  most  of  the  rivers  that  fall  into 
Red  river,  but  very  rich  ;  the  hirfi  lands  are  a  strong  clay  soil ;  the  princi- 
pal CTowth  oak.  After  leaving  this  river  the  banks  of  Red  river  ai*c  alter- 
nately cane  and  prairie  ;  timber  is  very  small  and  scattered  along  only  in 
places ;  it  is  only  now  to  be  seen  along  the  water  com  ses.  From  the  Bog-gy 
river  to  tlie  Blue  river  is  about  50  miles,  which  comes  in  on  the  right  si&. 
The  water  of  this  river  is  cjJled  blue,  from  its  extreme  transparency  ;  it  is 
said  to  be  well  tasted,  and  admired,  for  its  quality,  to  drink.  The  bed  of 
this  river  is  lined  generally  with  black  and  greyish  flint  stones  ;  it  is  about 
50  yards  wide,  and  represented  as  a  beautifril  stream  ;  perogues  ascend  it 
ftbout  j6P-or  70  miles.  The  low  grounds  of  Blue  river  are  a  good  width  for 
plantations,  very  rich ;  the  growui  paean,  and  every  species  of  the  walnut. 
The  whole  country  here,  except  on  the  margin  of  the  water  courses,  is  one 
immense  prairie.  A  tier  passing  this  river,  copses  of  wood  only  are  to  be 
seen  here  and  there  along  the  river  bank  for  about  25  miles,  to  a  small  turgid 
river,  called  by  tlie  Indians  Bahachaha,  and  by  the  French  Fouxoacheta  / 
some  call  it  the  Missouri  branch  of  Red  river ;  it  emits  a  considerable  quan- 
tity of  water ;  runs  from  north  to  south,  and  falls  into  Red  river 
nearly  at  right  angles,  and  heads  near  tlic  head  of  the  Arkensa, 
and  is  so  brackish  it  cannot  be  drank.  On  this  river,  and  on  a 
branch  of  tlie  Arkensa,  not  for  from  it,  the  Indians  And  the  salt  rock ;  pieces 
of  it  have  often  been  brought  to  Natdiitoches  by  hunters,  who  procured  it 
from  the  Indians.  From  3ie  mouth  of  this  river,  through  the  prairie,  to  the 
main  branch  of  the  Arkensa,  is  three  days  journey  ;  perhaps  60  or  70  miles 
in  a  straight  line.  From  this  to  the  Panis,  or  Towraclie  towns,  by  land,  it 
about  30  miles,  and  by  water,  double  that  distance  ;  the  river  is  nearly  a 
mile  wide,  liie  country-  on  each  side,  for  many  himdreds  of  miles,  is  all 
prairie,  except  a  skirt  of  wood  along  the  river  bank,  and  on  the  smaller 
streams  ;  what  trees  there  are,  are  small  ;  the  grass  is  green  summer  and 
winter.  In  between  33  and  34  degrees  of  north  latitude,  the  soil  is  very 
rich,  producing,  luxui-iously,  every  thing  that  is  planted  in  it  :  tlie  river, 
from  tins  upwards^  for  150  miles,  continues  at  lea^t  a  mile  wide,  and  may 
be  ascended  in  perogues. 

Mr.  Gra])pe,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  the  foregoing  accurate  descrip- 
tion of  Red  river,  informed  me,  that  his  personal  knowledge  of  it  did  not 
extend  but  little  above  the  Panis  towns  ;  but  Mr.  Brevel,  of  the  Isle  Brevel, 
who  was  bom  at  the  Caddo  old  towns,  where  lie  was,  had  been  farther  up 
it,  and  that  whatever  account  he  gave  me  might  be  relied  on« 

I  therefore  sought  an  opportunity,  a  few  days  after,  to  obtain  from  Mr, 
Brevel  the  following  narrative,  which  I  wrote  down  from  his  own  mouth, 
as  he  related  it : 

•*  About  40  years  ago,  I  sat  off,  on  foot,  from  the  Panis  nation  (who  then 
lived  about  50  leainies  above  where  they  now  live)  in  comjiany  with  a  party 
of  young  Indi.'m  men,  with  whom  I  had  been  partly  raised,  on  a  hunting 
voyage,and  to  prociue  horses.  We  kept  up  on  the  south  side,  of  Red  river,as 
near  it  as  wc  could  conveniently  cross  the  small  streami^  that  fall  in,  some- 
tinges  at  some  distance,  aiui  at  others  very  near  it,  and  in  sight  of  it.     We 


Digitized  by  G00gle><" 


Itaid  tte  emUbtf  aU  prairie,  tttept  email  leopteH  of  wooA,  «e4kry  Mtti 

i»ood,  or  nMiAkttto,  tmongst  >Bvhic!i  a  6tick  aijc  inolies  in  diaiMelef  ^<mM  wt 

ke  found  t  the  «iiriBce  baxMnbi^  more  and  ititire  Mgh%  sandy  md  b%>  «)lh 

liedg«8  of  cliAs  of  a  greyish  sandy  twM,  bat  ev«ry  where  co¥ci«d  wilk  her* 

bage.    We  found  many  small  streams  falling'  mto  the  tt^^er,  km.  none  <if  laf 

MMiderable  sizt,  or  that  discfiai^ged  much  w^ater  in  diy  teasona,  b«t  nuwf 

dMp  gullies  foniied  by  the  rain  wat)GT.     Afler  trayeUiAg  for  setenJ  dafi 

oter  A  country  of  this  descfiption,  the  country  bpeeame  more  broken,  ibe  hSi 

fUinf^  into  mountains,  amongst  which  we  saw  a  great  deal  «f  rock  Mh,  mi 

SA  ore  the  Indians  said  was  my  (meaning  the  white  people's)  irewiK^ 

whidi  1  afterwards  learned  Was  silver.    And  that  amongst  these  raoontaiM 

of  mine^,  we  often  heard  a  noise  Ukfe  the  erosion  of  a  Gannon,  or  disttfA 

Ihwadi^  wtiich  the  In^ahs  said  was  the  spirit  of  the  white  people  notldng 

in  their  ireastire,  which,  I  afterwards  mtus  inibrmed,  was  the  blowing  ^^ 

mines,  as  it  is  cadled,  which  is  common  in  aU  paits  of  Sparnsh  Amma 

'#here  mines  exist    The  main  brwndi  of  tlie  rivfer  becoming  smjUer,  till  it 

dMIed  into  almost  innumerafale  streams  that  issued  out  of  the  ^alfies  aiiMRgit 

these  m(mntains  ;  the  soil  very  light  and  sandy,  of  a  rewldish  f^ttfftxAmf.   We 

Crarelled  on  from  the  top  of  one  mountain  to  the  top  of  another,  in  hx^  the 

Mie  we  were  ascending  was  a!wa^  the  last,  till  the  smtdl  ^treattit  ^  net 

«l4th  ran  the  oontrary  way,  toward  the  setting  dun,  and  the  iandi  declining 

tliat  way.    We  continued  on  till  the  streams  enlarged  into  arifcrrf  con- 

iliderable  siee,  liml  the  country  became  Icv^l,  well  timbered,  the  swl  a  nch 

black  »oam  ;  the  watem  were  aU  clear  and  well  taated.     Hew  we  foend  i 

l^dKit  many  difi'erent  tribes  of  tlie  Hietan,  Appaches  and  Concee  fedirfs ; 

tre  iikewise  fell  in  with  them  frequently  from  the  time  we  had  been  a  kt 

days  o^t  f«Jim  the  Panis  towns,  and  were  always  tneated  kindly  by  them.   1 

b^eve  tile  distance  from  the  Panis  old  towns  to  where  we  saw  the  It*  ^ 

Red  river  watser,  is  at  least  one  hundred  leugues  ;  and  in  crossing  ofef  ^ 

Mge,  we  saw  no  animals  that  were  not  common  in  all  the  country  of  Louis* 

iaiia,  except  the  spotted  tyger,  artd  a  few  w^i  ^e  bears.    After  spen^g  BOffic 

days  on  the  western  Waters,  we  sat  <A  fx»f  the  settlements  of  StaFi; 

itecring  nearly  a  south  east  oou«ie,  and  in  a  few  days  ^etc  out  of  the  tim* 

bened  country  into  prairie ;  the  country  ^canic  broken  and  hiiy ;  the  7^^ 

sAl  running  westwardly ;  ^le  country  eloaethed  with  a  luxmiant  herbage,  «a 

ll*e<fiiently  passing  mines  of  s'dver  ore.     We  arrived,  at  length,  at  a  sm^ 

meanly  built  town  in  the  St.  a  T€  settlement,  containing  abtnit  one  hnn^ 

houses,  round  whieh  were  some  small,  cultivated  fields,  fenced  roun^  wit^ 

tmaM  cedar  and  niusketo  brush,  wattled  in  stakes.     TTiis  llt*le  town  ^^*f?J 

a  smaU  stream  of  waiter  that  ran  westwardly,  and  in  a  dr}'  season  sofcd^ 

run  at  aU,  «ind  thi^  the  inhabiUnts  were  obliged  to  water  tb«r  rattle  (tm 

WiXti.     hm\  I  understood  that  the  bayau  upon  which  this  town  i«  situate* 

was  no  part  of  Rio  Grandi,  but  fell  into  the  Western  ocean  ;  hot  of  th«l » 

might  have  been  mistaken.      1  understood  that  similar  smidl  towfii,  or  bus- 

sions,  were  within  certain  distances  of  each  otlier  for  a  great  cxt^tswrta* 

wai»dly^  towards  Mexico ;  and  that  the  inhabitants  were  mostly  christiamsed 

Indians  and  Matiffs.     That  the  mines  in  that  settlement  affbrtled  veiy  nrt 

ot'e,  which  was  taken  away  in  large  quarftlties,  packed  on  mules,  and  hadw 

sume  ajipearftnce  of  what  we  met  with  about  the  head  branches  of  Red  m*- 

Afler  furnishing  ourselves  with  horses  ift  this  place,  we  sat  off  again  ftff»»* 

paiiis  towiw,  from  whence  we  started,  steering  at  first  southwarfiy,  in  order 

to  avoid  a  hij^,  mountainous  country  that  is  difficult  to  cross,  that  lies  bc« 

tween  St  a  Fe  ajul  Red  river.      After  travelling  some  distance  so«A,  ^ 

tnrned  oiu*  course  northeastwardly,  and  itfrived  at  the  Panis  towns  in  cigbteen 

days  from  the  day  we  left  St  a  Fe  settlements ;  and  three  months  andtip^** 

ty  days  from  the  time  we  started." 

He  is  of  the  opinion  that  from  the  Panis  towns  to  St  a  Fe,  in  a  right  n»tf 
is  nearly  three  hundred  miles,  and  all  the  country  praiiie,  a  few  scattctn^ 
^dar  knobs  excepted    After  he  had  finished  his  morative,  I  asked  Irim  bow 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


fir  Red  liver  w%t  b«^»U]^«.  He  said,  not  much  above  the  Panis  old  tovma  ; 
not  thai  ^e  knew  o£  any  .particular  falls  or  obstructiona,  but  ti)y|t  t^e  head 
branches  of  the  river  came  from  steep  mountains,  on  which  ih^  nm  often 
poured  down  in  torments,,  and  runs  into  the  river  with  such  velocity,  sweep- 
ing aloQg  with  it  large  quantitiei»  of  loose  ecurth,  of  which  these  hills  and 
mountains  are.  composed :  that  it  roUs  like  a  $weU  m  the  sea,  and  would 
either  sink  or  carry  along  "vith  it  any  boat  that  it  might  meet  in  the  river. 
But,  he  obsened  at  the  siime  til(^»  that  his  opinion  was  founded  on  no  ex- 
periment that  he  had  ever  known  made.  I  asked  him  if  the  Indians  had  no 
perogues  high  up  in  the  river.  He  told  me,  that  the  Indiafis  there  knew 
nothing  of  the  use  of  them,  for  instead  of  there  being  fQr  hundreds  of  miles 
a  tree  large  enough  for  a,  cance,  one  could  scarcely  be  foqnd  large  enough  to 
make  a  fowl  trough.  I  asked  him  what  animsds  were  found  in  the  Great 
prairies.  He  told  me,  from  Blue  riier,  upwards,  o|i  bo^  sides  of  Red  river, 
there  w«re  innumerable  quantities  of  wild  horses,  bunaloe,  bears,  wolves, 
clk<  deer,  foxes,  sangliers  or  wild  hogs,  antelope,  white  hares,  rabbits,  &c. 
and  on  the  mountains  the  spotted  tyger,  panther,  and  wild  cat.  He  farther 
told  me,  that  about  23  years  ago,  he  was  emploj  ed  by  the  govemout  of  St. 
Antoine,  to  go  from  that  place  into  some  of  the  Indian  nations  that  lived  to* 
wards  Ms  a  Fe,  who  were  at  war  with  the  Spaniards,  to  try  to  make  a  peace 
with  them,  and  bring  in  some  of  the  chiefs  to  St  Antoine.  He  sat  off  fix>m 
that  place  with  a  party  of  soldiers^  and  was  to  have  gone  to  St  s  Fe  ;  they 
passed  on  a  northwestwardly  course  for  about  200  imles,  but  after  getting 
into  the  Great  Prairie,  bemg  a  dry  season,  they  were  ibreed  to  turn  lack  for 
want  of  water  for  themselves  and  horses,  and  that  he  does  not  know  how 
near  he  went  to  St.  a  Fe,  but  believes  he  might  have  been  halfway. 

The  accounts  given  by  Mr.  Brevel,  Mr.  Grappe,  and  all  other  hunters  with 
whom  I  have  conversed,  of  the  immense  droves  of  animals  that,  at  the  be- 
ginning of  winter,  descend  from  the  mountains  down  southwardly,  into  the 
timbered  country,  is  almost  incredible.  They  say  the  buiiyoe  and  bear  par- 
ticularly, are  in  droves  of  many  thousands  together,  that  bUcken  ^  whole 
surface  of  the  earth,  and  continue  passing,  without  intermission,  for  weeks 
together,  so  that  the  whole  surface  of  the  country  is,  for  many  miles  in  breadth* 
trodden  like  a  large  road.  I  am,  sir^  &c.  &c. 

(Signed)  JOHN  SIBLEY. 

Natchitoches^  10th  Afirii,  180S. 

Diatftncci.  up.  Red  river^  by  the  course  qf  the  rw^,     . 

MILES. 

From  the  mouth  of  Red  river  to  Black  river,         -        -        -        31 
to  Baker's  landing,  lovirer  end  Avoyal  -        -        -        51 

La  Glee's  ditto,  upper  end  Avoyal,      -        -        -        -        15 
Rice's,        ---        --        -        •        -        -        -  5 

Hoomes's, -18 

Nicholas  Grubb's, 21 

mouth  of  bayau  Rapide, 15 

—  OFF 

Indian  villagts, *«.        22 

Mount  Pleasant,  Gillard's  place,  ....  7 

mouth  of  Rigula  de  Bondieu,       -        -        .        .        -  6 

Mounete's  plantation,  ......        lo 

mouth  of  Little  river, 24 

bayau  Brevel, 20 

Natchitoches,  -    - 20 

—  109 

266 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


%4  AUB&ICAV  itkrU  MMAK 

Grand  Ecore»     «•.«...        -10 

Compti, -20 

bayau  Channo,     ---.--.-15 

lake  Bist'mo,  through  bayau  Channo,    ....  3 

through  lake  Bistino  to  the  upper  end  of  Chaimo,  -        60 

throUgfh  bayau  DaicKet  to  the  river  ag^in,  -  -  -  9 
late  Caddo  villages,  where  they  lived  5  yean  ago,        >        80 

—  W 

Little  river  of  the  left, 80 

long"  prairie,  right  sidle,  ...  -  -  -  25 
upper  end  of  ditto,  -  -  -  .  .  .25 
litue  prairie,  left  side,  -  ^  .  .  .  -  40 
upper  end      ditto, -         5 

—  171 
pine  bluff,  right  side,           .....         -        12 

upper  end,     ditto,       -- 5 

cedars,        ---.-.-.         -IS, 
upper  end  ditto,  and  mouth  of  Little  river  of  the  richt,         40 

—  7% 
round  prairie,  right  side,  (first  fording  place)        .         -        20 

.  lower  end  of  long  prairie,  left  side,      -         *        -        •         25 

upper  end        ditto, -40 

next  prairie  same  side,         ......         12 

upper  end  of  the  same,        ....         .        .        20 

3  mile  oak  and  pine  bluff,     -        -        .  ^     .         .        .        30 
Paean  grove,       -        -        -        --         -•-         .  9 

imper  end  of  the  same,        ......  6 

—  163 
prairie  next  above  the  paeans,      ....        -        40 

upper  end  of  the  same,        ......        25 

pine  bluff  right  side,  ......        45 

white  oak  bluff, 15 

next  prairie  right  side,     ,    -        -        -        -         -        .     .   45 

.   upper  end        ditto,     --.----30 
bayau  Galle,  right  side,        •        -        -         -         .        -  6 

mouth  of  Kiomitchie,  or  mine  river,    -        -        •        -        25 

—     231 

Eine  bluff  left  side, 25 
ayau  Kick,  or  Bois  d'arc  creek,          -        ...        40 
the  Vazzures,  or  Boggy  river,  right  side,     ...  8       . 

Blue  river,  right  side,  ....         .        -        50 

Faux  Oacheto  or  Missouri  branch,       ....        25 

Panis  or  To wiache  towns,   ------        70 

Panis  or  ditto  old  towns,      - .       -        -        .         -        .       150 
head  branch  of  Red  river,  or  dividing  ridge,         -         -      30Q 

■■    ■     668 
To  which  may  be  added  for  so  much  the  distance  being  shortened  by 
going  through  lake  Bistino,  than  the  course  of  the  river,         -  6D 

Computed  length  of  Red  river  from  where  it  falls  into  the  Miasiattpf)i» 
to  wliich  add  the  distance  from  tlie  mouth  of  Red  river  to  the  ocean, 
by  either  the  Mississippi,  or  the  Cheffeli,  which  wai  once  proba- 
bly the  mohth  of  Red  river,     -        -        -    .    -        -        -        -     *    325 

Total  length  of  Red  river, mikt    3,lil 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


Aimnt  Air  stats  papbe^  ^ 


OBSERVATIONS 

Mtade  in  a  ifoyage  commencing  at  St.  Catharine's  landings  on  the  east 
bank  of  the  Mississifkfn^  proceeding  downwards  to  the  mouth  of 
Red  river ^  and  from  thence  ascending  that  rrvery  the  Black  river^ 
and  the  Washita  river^  as  high  as  the  hot  springs  in  the  proxindti^ 
of  the  last  mentioned  river  ;  extracted  from  the  Journals  of  William 
Dunbar^  Esq,  and  Doctor  Hunter, 

MR.  DUNBAR,  Doctbr  Hunter^  and  the  party  empkyed  by  the  United 
Slateit  to  make  a  survey  of,  andexplore  the  country  traveSed  by  the  Washita 
river,  left  St  Cathtrine*s  landing,  on  the  Mississippi,  in  hftitude  31**.  2&.  30*. 
If.  and  lonntnde  6h.  5^.  56*^;  W.  irom  the  meridian  of  Greenwich,  on  Tuesdaj^ 
the  16th  of  October,  1804.  A  little  distance  below  St.  Catharine's  creel^ 
flSid  5  leag;iies  from  Natches,  they  passed  the  White  Cliffs,  composed  chiefly 
otf  sahd,  inrmounted  by  pine,  and  from  100  to  200  feet  hi^.  When  the 
Waters  of  the  Mississippi  are  low,  the  base  of  the  cliff  is  uncovered,  which 
oiNisists  of  different  coloured  clays,  and  some  beds  of  ochre,  over  which 
there  lieSi  hi  some  places,  a  thin  lamina  of  iron  ore.  Small  springs  posscss- 
ingf  a  petrifying  quidity  flow  over  the  clay  and  ochre,  and  numerous  logs  and 
pieces  of  timber,  converted  into  stone,  are  strewed  about  the  beach.  Fine 
pOirerw^  of  various  colours,  chiefly  white  and  red,  is  found  here. 

On  the  17th  they  arrived  at  the  mouth  of  Red  river,  tlie  confluence  of 
Wftich  wtth  thie  Mis!lidsippiy  agreeably  to  ^e  observations  of  Mr.  de  Ferrer, 
lies  in  latltttde  31**.  1'.  15^.  N.  and  longitude  6li.  7'.  IK  W.  of  Greenwich.  Red 
rf¥ei«i»hcr*  about  500  yards  wide,  and  without  any  sensible  current  The 
bttbks  6f  the  river  are  clothed  with  willow  ;  the  land  low  and  subject  to  in- 
Uftdadon,  to  the  height  of  30  feet  or  more  above  the  level  of  tlie  water  at 
ttAs  time.  The  mouth  of  the  Red  river  is  accounted  to  be  75  leagues  from 
Wew-OrlcaAs,  and  3  miles  higlier  up  than  the  Chafalaya,  or  Opelousa  river^ 
vrhich  wiis*  probably  a  continuation  of  the  Red  river  when  its  waters  did  not 
iniite  with  those  of  tiie  Mississippi  but  during  the  inundation. 

On  the  18th  the  survey  of  the  Red  river  was  commenced,  and  on  the 
everting  of  the  19th  the  party  arrived  at  the  mouth  of  the  Black  river,  in 
latfttkde  31^.  15^  48^.  N.  and  about  26  miles  from  the  Mississippi.  The  Red 
river  derives  its  name  from  the  rich  fat  earth,  or  marie,  of  that  colotir,  borne 
db'wn  by  the  floods ;  the  last  of  which  appeared  to  have  deposited  on  the 
high  bank'  a  stratum  of  upwards  of  half  an  inch  in  thickness.  The  ve^eta- 
tlWn  on  it*  ttluriks  is  surprisingly  luxuriant ;  no  doubt  owing  to  the  deposition 
of  marie  d^iHng  its  annual  floods.  The  willows  grow  to  a  good  size  j  but 
othfer  fbr^'ti^es  are  much  stnaller  than  those  seen  on  the  banks  of  th^  Mis- 
silMippi.  A  you  advance  up  the  river,  it  gradually  narrows  ;  in  latitude 
a^.  OS'.  If.  it  19  aboht  200 yards  wide,  which  width  is  continued  to  the  mouth 
of  B&ek  river,  wheie  each  of  them  appears  150  yards  across.  The  banks 
of  the  lirtt  wfe  cmeted  -orith  pea'vine  and  several  sorts  of  grass,  bcarihg' 
«eed,  which  geese  and  ducks  eat  very  greedily  ;  and  there  "ar6g^tteraHV 
seen  willows  groindng  on  one  side,  and  en  the  other  a  small  growth  of  black 
oak^.lMekawD,.  hicksiyy  elm^  &c.  The  current  in  the  Red  river  is  so  modern 
Ofteaa  tc  iimii||iiit»  mii  m  tm^ntdimeiA  to  its  aseent 
,  Oh-BHmijfai^lltelgiMA  rHter  ft  Kttle  ibove  its  mduth,  (here  was  found  20 


'  bladb  tnad.  Hie  water  of  Black  river  is 
I  nm^f  ifle»l j{ t&m|liit  of  th#  Ohio,  and.of  a.waite  temper^ure,  whieh  it 
ntayiiilitrfffadl  im  «lter  fiowmglntoit  ft^ni  the  valley  of  ^le  Mississippi, 
VftfkiK4»t^^fd^0^  AlH0bif^ilth6  294ibrs'Modi     *'      ' 

VoLTil  ApptnOa.  I 


:  meridiflli  oV^  ^ 


Digitized  by  GoOgyS 


6i0  AM^IUCAtr  8TATS   WAWMMB. 

»ervation,  they  atcert^uned  their  latitude  to  be  30^.  36^.  ^'.  N.  and  were  tbeil 
« little  below  the  mouths  of  the  Catahoola,  Washita  and  BayauTenza,  the 
united  waters  of  which  form  the  BUck  river.  The  current  is  very  gende 
tlie  whole  lenglli  of  the  Black  river,  which  in  many  places  does  not  exceed 
W  yiuds  in  Width.  The  banks  on  the  lower  part  of  the  river  present  a  great 
luxuriance  of  vegeUitlon  and  runk  gruss,  >vitli  red  and  black  oak,  ash,  pac- 
kawi»,  hickop)',  and  some  elms.*  The  soil  is  Wack  marie,  mixed  with  a 
moderate  proportion  of  sand,  resembling  much  Uie  soil  on  the  Mississippi 
banks  ;  yet  Uie  fl^rcst  trees  are  not  lofly,  like  tiiose  on  the  margin  of  the 
yrcat  river,  but  resembling  tlie  growth  on  tlie  Red  river.  la  latitude  31°. 
2i'.  4C^  N.  they  observed  tliat  canes  grew  on  several  parts  of  the  rig^itbank, 
aproof  that  the  land  is  not  deeply  overflowed  ;  perhaps  from  one  to  three 
i'^ei  :  the  banks  have  the  appearance  of  stability ;  very  little  wiUow,  Cfr  other 
productions  of  a  ncNvly  formed  soil  being  seen  on  either  side.  On  advaneingf* 
up  the  river,  the  timber  becomes  larger,  in  some  places  rising  to  the  height- 
of  40  feet ;  yet  tlie  Land  is  liable  to  be  inundated,  not  from,  the  waters  of  ti^s 
small  river,  but  from  the  intrusion  of  its  nK)re  powerful  neighbour  the  Mis-, 
.slssippi.  The  lands  decline  rapidly,  as  in  all  alluvial  countries,  from  the 
maij^ln  to  tlie  Cypress  swamps,  where  more  or  less  water  stagnates  all  tlie 
year  round.  On  the  21st  tlicy  passed  a  small,  but  elevated  island,  said  to  be 
the  only  one  in  tliis  river  for  more  than  100  leagues  ascending.  On  the  left 
bank,  near  this  island,  a  small  settlement  of  a  couple  of  acres  has  been  begun 
by  a  man  and  his  wife.  TJic  banks  are  not  less  than  40  feet  abo\'e  the  pre- 
sent level  of  the  water  in  Uie  river,  and  are  but  rar<*ly  overflowed :  on  both 
sides  they  are  clotlied  with  ridi  cane  brake,  pierced  by  creeks  fit  to  can7 
boats  during  the  inundation. 

They  saw  many  cormorants,  and  the  hooping  crane  ;  geese  and  ducks  are- 
not  yet  abuiidant,  but  are  said  to  arrive  in  mvTiads  with  the  rains  and  win- 
tei**s  cold.  They  shot  a  fowl  of  the  duck  kind,  whose  foot  was  partially 
tlivided,  and  tlie  body  covered  with  a  bluish  or  lead  coloured  plumage.  On 
the  mi*raing  of  the  twenty-second,  they  observed  green  matter  floating  on 
the  river,  supposed  to  come  from  the  Catalioola  and  other  lakes  and  bayauf 
of  stagnant  w-iter,  wliich,  when  raised  a  litdc  by  rain,  flow  into  the  Bl»ck 
liver  ;  :liuI  lasj  muny  patches  o  an  afpiutic  plant,  resembling  small  islands, 
some  fioiiting-  on  tlie  surfice  of  the  river,  ar»d  others  adhering  to,  or  rest- 
ing on  Uie  sl)ore  and  logs.  On  examining  this  plant,  it  was  found  a  hollow, 
jointed  stem,  witli  roots  of  tiie  same  form,  extremely  light,  with  very  nar- 
row willow  shaped  leaves  pi*ojecting  from  tlic  joint,  embracing  howerer, 
tlie  whole  of  the  tube,  and  extending  to  the  next  inferior  joint  or  knot 
The  extremity  of -uach  branch  is  terminated  by  a  spike  of  very  slender,  nar- 
row seminal  leaves  fiVjm  one  to  two  inches  in  length,  and  one  tenth,  or  less, 
in  breadtli,  producing  its  seed  on  the  underside  of  the  leaf,  in  a  double  row 
almost  in  contact :  the  grains  alternately  placed  in  perfect  regidarity :  not  be- 
ing able  to  find  the  flower,  its  class  and  order  could  not  be  determined,  al- 
thougli  it  is  not  prt)bably  nc  w.  Towards  the  upper  part  of  the  Black  nnr, 
the  shore  abounded  with  muscles  and  periwinkles.  The  muscles  were  of 
the  kind  cidled  pearl  musjles.  The  men  dressed  a  quantity  of  them,  con- 
•idering  them  as  an  agreeable  food  i  but  Mr.  D.  found  them  tough  and 
unpalatable. 

•  Among  the  planti  piwHng  on  the  margin  of  the  river  Is  the  cheria  root,  used  In  "wg^ 
and  the  canuc.  occaKlonallv  used  by  the  hunters  for  food  ;  the  Itat  bam  bwbom  WK,^ 
times  the  «i<c  of  a  man's  fist.  In  preparing  it,  they  fir$t  wash  it  clean  from  the  carttt^ 
pound  Ir  well,  and  add  water  to  the  mas*  and  «tfr  it  up  j  after  a  moment's <cttlementtteTO« » 
and  fecula  is  poured  off:  thic  operation  h  repeated  untU  it  yield*  no  fliort  '^^^^"tJS. 
part  only  bclno  left,  whicli  is  thrown  away  as  uwclcss  :  the  water  li  thea  BOttfca  *»**Sl^ 
incnt,  which  h  dried  hi  the  sun,  and  will  keep  a  long  thne.  It  b  redqccd  to^oJ^JBELK 
fnlxe«1  with  Indian  meal  or  flour;  and  makes  wholesome  and  agreeable  food-  J^^^Sr^. 
performed  by  the  women  wkUit  they  arc  kcq»fcifi  the  caipp,  and  iftelr  WA***  ««  »^ 
wo(k2s  hunting.  "^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


AMKRICAK  STATE  PAPERS.  't7 

On  WTiTinir  at  the  moulii  of  the.  Catahoola,  they  landed  to  procure  infor- 
nuition  from  a  Frenchman  settled  tJicre.  Having-  a  grant  ti-om  tlic  Spanish 
government)  he  haa  made  a  small  setttement,  and  keeps  a  fem'-b<^at  ihr 
eJttrying' over  men  and  horses  travii-tling'  to  and  fi-om  Natchez,  and  the 
•ettlements  on  Red  river  and  on  tJie  W  asliitu  river.  Tlie  cmmtry  here  is 
aU  fdhivial.  *  In  process  of  time,  the  rivers  Khuttinjj  up  ancient  pasr.*!ig^cs  and 
elevating  tlie  banks  over  which  their  w^ers  pass,  no  longer  communicate 
with  the  same  facility  as  formerly  ;  the  consequence  is,  tliat  many  lar^c^ 
tracts  formerly  subject  to  inundation,  are  now  entirely  exempt  from  tba^ 
inconvenience.  Sti^h  is  the  situation  of  a  most  valuable  tract  upon  which 
this  Frenchman  is  settled.  His  house  stands  on  an  Indian  mount,  with 
several  others  in  view.  There  is  also  a  species  of  rampart  surrounding  this 
place,  and  one  very  elevated  mount,  a  view  and  description  of  which  is 
postponed  till  tliey  return  ;  their  present  situation  not  allowing  of  the  re- 
quisite delay.     The  soil  is  equal  to  tlie  best  Mississippi  bottoms.* 

They  obtained  from  the  French  settler  tlie  following  list  of  distances  be- 
tween the  moutli  of  tlie  Red  river  and  tlie  po«t  on  the  Washita,  called  fort 
Miro. 

From  the  mouth  of  Red  river  to  the  month  of  Black  river  10  Icag^et. 

To  the  mouth  of  Catahoola,  Wasliita,  aud  Tenzsi,       -     -  22 

To  the  river  Ha-ha,  on  the  right, -  1  , 

To  the  Prairie  de  Villemont,  on  the  8«me  side,     -     -     -  S 

To  the  bayau  Louis,  on  the  same  side,  rapids  here,     -     -  1 

To  bayau  Bceufs,  on  the  same  side,     -- 4 

T9  the  Prairie  Noyu,   (drowned  savanna), 3 

To  Pine  Pmnt,  on  the  kft,    - -  4i 

To  bayau  Calumet, -54  ' 

To  the  Coalmine,  on  tlie  right,  and  Gypsum  on  the  oppo- 
site shore, 3 

To  the  first  settlement, 12 

To  fort  Mipo, 22 

League*,  91 

From  this  place  they  proceeded  to  the  mouth  of  Washita,  in  lat  35^  37' 
7"  N.  and  encamped  on  tha  evening  of  the  23d. 

This  river  derives  its  appellation  fh)m  the  name  of  an  Indian  tribe  for- 
merly resident  on  its  banks  ;  tlie  remnant  of  which,  it  is  said,  went  into  the 
greayt  pUins  to  the  westward,  and  either  compose  a  small  tribe  themselves, 
or  are  incorporated  into  another  nation.  The  Black  river  loses  its  name  at 
the  j^unction  of  tlie  Washita,  Catahoola,  and  Tenza,  although  our  maps  re- 
present it  as  taken  place  of  the  Washita.  The  Tenza  and  Catahoola  are  al- 
so, named  from  Indian  tribes  now  extinct  The  latter  is  a  creek  tweh-c 
leagues  long,  which  is  the  issue  of  a  lake  of  the  same  name,  eight  leagues  in 
leng^i  and  about  two  leagues  in  breadth.  It  lies  west  fix>m  the  mouth  of 
the  Catahoola,  and  communicates  with  the  Red  river  during  the  great  an- 
nual  inundation.  At  the  west  or  north-west  angle  of  the  lake,  a  creek  call- 
ed Little  river,  enters,  which  preserves  a  channel  with  running  water  at  all 
seasons,  meandering  along  the  bed  of  the  lake  ;    but  in  all  other  parts  it^ 

«  There  b  an  embankment  running  from  the  CatahooU  to  Black  river  (indofing  about 
two  hundred  acres  of  rich  land),  at  prdbnt  about  ten  feet  high,  and  ten  feet  broad.  Thlt 
forroonds  four  Jarge  moulds  of  earth  at  the  dittance  of  a  bow.tbot  from  each  other:  each 
of  which  may  be  twenty  feet  high,  one  hundred  feet  broad,  and  three  hundred  fieet  lone  at 
the  top,  belldes  a  ftupendous  turret  Htuate  on  the  back  part  of  the  whole,  or  farthctl  from 
the  water,  whofe  bale  covers  about  an  acre  of  ground,  rinng  by  two  fteps  or  ftorie«  taperinf 
In  the  afcent,  the  whole  fiirmounted  by  a  great  cone  with  Its  top  cut  olf»  Thi^  tower  cl  ' 
fifth  00  sdoMaflirement  mm  found  to  he  eighty  feet  perpendicular. 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


^uper^cea,  durine^the  dry  season  frcmi  July  to  November, >nd  otoiMcr, 
U  completely  drained,  and  becomes  covered  with  the  most  lozurioiis  h», 
bage  ;  the  bed  of  the  lake  then  becomes  the  resideDce  of  imwepse  bev^of 
deer,  of  turkeys,  geese,  crane,  &c.  which  feed  on  the  grass  and  gnio. 
Bayau  Tenza  serves  only  to  drain  off  a  part  of  the  waters  of  the  iiranda* 
tion  fh)m  the  low  lands  of  the  Mississippi,  which  here  compninicite  intb 
the  Black  river  during  the  season  of  liigh  water. 

Between  the  mouth  of  the  Washita  and  Villemont's  prairie  on  the  rigbt,  tbt 
current  of  the  river  is  gentle,  and  the  banks  fayouraWe  for  towing.  The 
^nds  on  both  sides  have  the  ap^arance  of  being  above  the  inunditioii ; 
the  timber  generally  such  as  hi^h  lands  produce,  being  chiefly  red,  white 
and  black  oaks  interspersed  with  a  variety  of  other  trees.  The  nugnor 
Ua  grandiflora,  that  infallible  sign  of  the  land  not  being  subject  to  imunda- 
tion,  is  not,  however,  among  them.  Along  the  bank#  a  stratum  of  solid 
clay,  or  miirlc,  is  observable,  apparently  of  an  ancuent  deposition.  It  lies 
in  oblique  positions,  making  an  angle  of  nearly  thirty  degrees  with  the 
horizon,  and  generally  inclined  with  the  descent  of  the  river,  although  in  a 
few  cases  the  position  was  contrary.  Timber  is  seen  projecting  from  under 
the  solid  bank,  which  seems  indurated,  and  unquestionably  very  ancient, 
presenting  a  ver>'  different  appearance  from  recently  formed  soil  Tbe  ri- 
ver is  about  80  yards  wide.  A  league  above  the  mouth  of  the  Washita, 
the  bayau  Ha-ha  comes  in  unexpectedly  from  the  right,  and  is  one  of  the 
many  passages  tlirough  which  the  waters  of  the  grefit  iivundation  penetrate 
and  pervade  all  the  low  countries,  annihilating,  for  a  time,  the  cuneots  of 
the  lesser  rivers  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Mississippi.  The  vegetation 
is  remarkably  vigorous  ^ong  the  alluvial  banks  ^hich  are  covered  with  a 
tliick  shrubbery,  and  innumerable  plants  in  full  blossom  at  t^is  lata 
season. 

Villemont's  prairie  is  so  pamed  in  copsequence  of  iti^  being  incloW  w^^ 
in  a  grant  under  the   FrencU  g^venunent  tq  a  gentleman  of  that  wme. 
Many  other  parts  on  the  Wasliitji  are  named  after  their  early  pEoprifton- 
The  French  people  projected  ajid  began  exitensive  settlemenls  onthjs  iver, 
but  the   general  massacre  planned,  and  in  part  executed  by  the  Iiuhani 
ag-ainst  them,  and  the  consequent  destruction  of  the  Natchez  tribe  by  the 
French,  broke  up  all  these  undertakings  and  they  were  not  recommenced 
undet  that  government    Those  pairies  are  plains,  or  savannas,  without 
timber  ;  genertdly  very  fertile,   and  producing  an  esube^ance  of  stioaf, 
thick  and  coarse  herbage.    When  a  piece  of  ground  has  once  got  into  ^ 
state,  in  an  Indian  country,  it  can  have  no  opportunity  of  re^Mtxhicmg  toi»* 
bpr,  it  being  an  invariable  practice  to  set  fire  to  the  dry  grass  in  the  wBoc 
"winter,  to  obtain  the  advantage  of  attracting  game  when  the  young  tewW 
gnws  begins  to  spring  :  this  destroys  the  young  timber,  and  the  praine  a»« 
nually  gains  upon  the  wood-land.     It  is  probable  that  the  immense  pja»» 
kfio\^'n  to  exist  in  America,  may  owe  their  origin  to  this  custosa.    Tw 
plains  of  the  Washita  He  chicHy  on  the  east  side,  and  being  generally  w«^ 
^d  like  the  Mississippi  land,  sloping  from  the  bank  of  the  river  to  the  gre« 
river,  they  arc  more  or  less  subject  to  inundation  in  the  rear  j  and  in  cer- 
tain great  floods  the  water  has  advanced  so  iar  as  to  be  ready  to  V'^^^ 
the  nuurgin  into  the  Washita.    This  has  now  become  a  veiy  van  twngV 
anditma^y  be  estimated  that  fixan  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  a  mile  in  flcpt^ 
will  remain  free  from  inundation  during  high  floods.    This  is  pretty  muc 
the  case  with  tliose  Lands  nearly  as  high  as  the  post  of  the  Warfuta^  ^^ 
the  exception  of  certiin  ridges  of  primitive  high-land  ;   the  res^  *^^JK^b[ 
dently  alluvial,  aUhougb  not  now  subject  to  be  inundated  by  the  ''J**^^ 
river  in  consequence  of  the  great  depth  which  tlxe  be<l  of  th^  n\^  JaS 
quired  by    abj-asion.     On  approaching  toward  the  ha^y^^  ^^*^  "^ib 
empties  its  waters  into  the  Washita  on  the  right,  a  Uttfc  bek)^  ^^.''^ 
there  is  a  great  deal  of  high  lamd  on  both  sides,  ^hich  produces  pme 


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.  f|^#f  ^i^)K!?  np^  ^  growth  of  inundated  lands.  At  the  foot  of  the  rapids 
the  navigation  of  the  river  is  im])cde(l  by  beds  of  gi-avcl  formed  in  it.  The 
j^^  n^pi4f  U^  i^  latitude  31^.  4l^  S'Jf.  5  N.  a  littie  above  which  there  is  a 
^Igh  n4gf  9^  prii|iiUvc  earth,  sUiddpd  with  abundance  of  fragments  of 
toc^^  or  §toTm,  which  i^pears  to  have  been  thrown  up  to  tJie  surfuc^  in  ^ 
very  irregular  manner.  The  stone  is  of  a  friable  nature,  some  of  it  having^ 
the  appearance  of  iiuiur^tisd  clay  >  the  outside  is  blackish  from  exposure  to 
^  air,  within  it  is  ag^cyi^h  white  ;  it  is  said  that  in  the  hill  the  strata  aro  re- 
gular 8Jul  that  gpod  grind^ones  may  be  here  obtained.  The  last  of  the  ra- 
pids, which  is  formed  by  a  ledge  of  rocks  crossing'  the  entire  bed  of  the  ri- 
ver, was  passed  in  the  evening  of  the  27th  ;  above  it  the  water  became 
^ain  like  a  mill  poiu].  and  about  one  hundred  yards  wide.  I1ic  whole  of 
^hose  first  shoals,  or  rapids,  embraced  an  extent  of  about  a  mile  and  a  half ; 
the  obstruction  was  not  continued,  but  felt  at  short  interval^  in  this  dis- 
tance. On  the  right,  about  four  leagues  from  the  rapids,  they  passed  the 
^'  JBftyau  AvLX  jloeuis,"  a  little  above  a  rocky  hill  :  high  lands  and  savanna 
is  S^en  on  the  right.  On  sounding  the  rivtjr  they  found  three  fathoms  wa* 
t^  on  a  bottom  of  mud  and  sand.  The  banks  of  the  rli'er,  above  tlie  bay  an 
i^eem  to  reUdn  ver)'  Uttle  alluvial  soil  ;  tlic  highland  earth,  which  is  a  sandy 
Ipam  of  a  light  grey  colour,  with  streaks  of  red  sand  and  clay,  is  seen  on 
the  lefi  baol^  J  the  soil  not  rich,  bearing  puies,  interspersed  with  red  oak, 
hickory  and  dogwoo4.  The  river  is  from  sixty  to  one  hundred  yards  wide 
her^,  but  decreases  as  you  advance.  The  next  rapid  is  made  by  a  ledge  of 
rocks  traversing  the  river,  and  narrowing  the  water  channel  to  about  Snrtf 
yards.  The  ffidtli  between  the  high  baidcs  cannot  be  less  than  one  himdred 
yards,  and  the  banks  from  thirty  to  forty  feet  high.  In  latitude  3^J^.  W. 
Xofp  rapids  and  shoals  again  occurred,  and  the  channel  was  very  narrow  ; 
the  sand  bars  at  every  point  extended  so  far  into  the  bend  as  to  leave  little 
npiore  than  the  breadth  of  the  boat  of  water  sufficiently  de^p  for  her  pas- 
sage,  although  it  spreads  over  a  width  of  seventy  or  eighty  yards  upon  tiZb 
ohoal. 

In  the' afternoon  of  the  Slst,  they  passed  a  little  plantation  or  settlement 
0n  the  right,  and  at  nirht  arrived  at  tliree  others  adjouiing  each  other.  These 
settlements  are  on  a  ]Hain  or  prairie,  the  soil  of  wluch  we  may  be  as.sured  is 
a^uvial  from  the  regular  slope  which  the  land  has  from  the  river.  The  bed 
of  the  river  is  now  sufRcientiy  deep  to  free  them  fi*om  the  ioconveniencc  of 
its  inundation  ;  yet  in  the  rear  the  waters  of  the  Mississippi  approach,  and 
sometimes  leave  dr>'  but  a  narrow  stripe  along  the  bank  of  the  river.  It  is 
however  now  more  common,  that  the  extent  of  the  fields  cultivated  (fi»m  ^ 
to  ^  mile)  remains  dry  during  the  season  of  inundation  ;  the  soil  here  is 
very  goo<l,  but  not  equal  to  the  Mississippi  bottoms  ;  it  may  be  esteemed 
second  rate.  At  a  small  distance  to  tlic  cast  are  e^ naive  cypress  swamps, 
over  wliich  the  waters  of  the  inimdation  always  stand  to  the  depth  of  from 
fifteen  to  twenty -five  feet  On  tlic  west  side,  after  passing  over  the  valley 
of  the  river  whose  breadth  varies  from  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  two  miles,  o^ 
more,  the  land  assumes  a  considerable  elevation,  from  one  hundred  to  three 
hundred  feet,  and  extends  all  along  to  tlie  settlements  of  tlie  Red  river. 
These  high  lands  are  reported  to  be  poor,  and  badly  watered,  being  chiefly 
>i«hat  is  termed  pine  barren.  There  is  here  a  ferry  and  road  of  communica- 
tion  between  the  post  of  the  Washita,  and  the  Natchez/  and  a  fork  of  this 
road  passes  on  to  the  settlement  calked  tlie  rapids,  on  Red  river,  distant 
from  this  place  by  computation  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles. 

On  this  part  of  the  river  lies  a  considerable  tract  of  land  granted  by  the 
Spanish  government  to  the  marquis  of  Maison  Rouge,  a  French  emigrant, 
"wiio  bequeathed  it  with  aU  his  property  to  M.  Bouligny,  son  of  the  late 
p^^hMi^  of  the  Louisiana  regiment,  and  by  him  sold  to  Daniel  Clarke.  It 
IS.  saujL  te  extend  froiR  the  post  of  Washita  with  a  breadth  of  two  leagues, 
^i^^dipg  the  river,  down  to  the  hayau  Calumet  \  the  computed  distance  of 


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fO  AMXRieAlf   STATE   PAPERS. 

which  along  the  rirer  is  called  thirty  leagues,  but  8uppQ9ed  not  iDcrethin 
twelve  in  u  direct  line. 

On  the  6di  of  November,  in  the  afternoon,  the  party  arriyed  at  the  post  of 
the  WashitI^  in  lat.  32^  2i*  37".  25  N.  where  they  were  politely  reccired 
by  lieuL  Bowmar,  who  immediately  ofiered  the  hospitality  of  his  H  ^rHinf 
with  all  the  services  in  his  power. 

From  tJic  fcrrj-  trj  this  piace  the  navigation  of  the  river  is,  at  this  seasoiy 
IntcPTUptcd  by  many  shoals  and  rapids.    The  general  width  is  from  eighty  to 
a  hundred  yard*.     The  water  is  extremely  agreeaUe  to  drink,  and  much 
clearer  than  tliat  of  tlie  Ohio.     In  this  respect  it  is   very  unlike  its  two 
Bciglibours,  the   Arkaiisa  and   Red  rivers,  whose  waters  arc  loaded  with 
oar3iy  m.ittcrs  of  a  reddish  brown  color,  giving  to  them  a  chocolate-lik« 
appcaran-e  ;  and,  wlicn  those   waters  are  low,  arc  not  potable,  being  brack- 
ish from  tlie  great  number  of  salt  springs   which  flow  into  them,  and  pro- 
bably from  the  beds  of  rock  salt  over  whicli  they  may  pass.    TTie  banks  of 
the  river  presented  very  little  appearance  of  alluvial  land,but  farnished  an  in- 
finitude of  beautiful  landscapes,  heightened  by  the  rivid  coloring  they  de- 
rive from  the  autumnal  changes  of  the  leaf.     Mr.  Dunbar  observes,  that 
the  change  of  colour  in  the  leaves  of  vegetables,  which  is  probably  occasion- 
ed by  tlic  oxygen  of  the  atmosphere  acting  on  the  Tegctable  matter,  depn- 
vcd  of  the  protecting  power  of  the  vital  principle,  may  serve  as  an  excelicrt 
guide  to  the  naturaUst  who  directs  his  attention  to   the  discovery  of  new 
objects  for  the  use  of  the  dyer.     For  he  has  always  remarked  that  the 
leaves  of  those  trees  whose  bark  or  wood  are  known  to  produce  a  dye,  arc 
changed  in  autumn  to  tlie  same  color  which  is  extracted  in  the  dyers  vat 
from  the  woo<ls  ;  more  especially  by  the  use  of  nnordants,  as  sHum,  &c. 
which  yields  oxyg-en  :  tlius  the  foliage  of  tlie  hickory,  and  oak,  which  pro- 
duces tlie  quercitron  bark,  is  changed  before  its  fall  into  a  beautiful  yeUow  t 
otlier  oaks  assume  a  fawn  color,  a  liver  color,  or  a  blood  color,  and  are  - 
k^own  to  yield  dyes  of  the  same  comp^xion. 

In  lat  3:^  W  N.  doct  Hunter  discovered  along  the  river  side  a  sub- 
stance nearly  resembling  mineral  coal :  its  appearance  was  that  of  "^^^' 
bonatcd  wo<hI  described  by  Kir  wan.  It  does  not  easily  bum  ;  but  ^^^^ 
applied  to  the  flame  of  a  candle,  it  sensibly  increaaed  it,  and  yieWcd  a 
faint  smell,  resembling  in  a  slight  degree,  that  of  the  gum  lac  oi  conunoo 
sealing  wax.  , 

Soft  friable  stone  is  common,  and  great  quantities  of  gravel  «^.'^ 
upon  the  beaches  in  this  part  of  the  river.  A  reddish  clay  appein»n ^bo 
strata,    m«ich  indurated  and    blackened    by  exposure  to   the   light  awl 

air.  „.-,rtL 

Tlie  position   called  fort   Miro  bemg  the  property  of  a  private  pciw* 
who  was  formerly  civil  commandant  here,  tlie  lieutenant  has  taken  pwj 
aljout  foiu*  hundred  yards  lower  ;  has  built  himself  some  log  houses,  sna 
inclosed  them   with  a  slight  stockade.     Upon  viewing  the  ^^^*Tf***i!l  < 
the  river,  it  is  evidently  alluvial  i  the  surface  has  a  gentle  slope  "*J" . 
river  to  the  rear  of  the  plantations.     Tlie  land  is  of  excellent  ^^r^'r^^ 
a  rich  black  mould  to  tlie  deptli  of  a  foot,  under  \vhich  tlicre  is  a  in 
loam  of  a  brownish  liver  colour.  ^  nT  «» 

At  the  post  of  tlie  Washita,  they  procured  a  boat  of  less  draught  of  ^ 
tef  than  the  one  in  which  they  ascended  the  river  thus  far  ;  at  noon,  on 
lltli  of  Novcmbtr,  they  proceeded  on  the  voyage,  and  in  the  evening 
camped  at  t])?*  plantation  of  Baron  Bastrop.  •yj^- 

This  <mall  settlement  on  tlie  Washita,  and  some  of  tlic  ^^^^^g^^. 
into  it,  contains  not  more  than  five  hundred  persons,  of  all  *R^' JJJl^  j^nd 
It  is  reported,  however,  that  tlicre  is  a  great  quantity  of  ^^^  .^pLj^n 
upon  lh(  s*  crorks,  and  that  the  settlement  is  capable  ^^  f^^^^^^a^^ 
tnd  may  be  e\pcrtcd,  with  an  accession  of  population,  to  ^^^^^^^y^  • 
rishing.     There  arc  three  jncrchanU  scttl^  at  tiie  poat,  who  supplyi  ^^^ 


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AMEBIC  AM  STATft  FAPERft^  71 

exorbitJoit  prices,  the  inhtbitants  with  their  necessaries  ;  these,  with  the! 
garrison,  two  small  planters,  and  a  tradesman  or  two,  constitute  the  pre- 
sent village-  A  great  proportion  of  the  inhabitants  continue  the  old  prac-* 
ticc  of  hunting,  during  the  winter  season,  and  they  exchange  tlieir  peltry 
for  necessaries,  with  the  merchants,  at  a  low  rate.  During  the  summer 
these  people  content  themselves  with  raising  com,  barely  sufficient  for 
thread  cUiiing  the  year,  in  this  manner  they  always  remain  extremely  poor  : 
some  few  who  have  conquered  that  habit  of  indolence,  which  is  always  the 
consequence  of  the  Indian  qiode  of  life,  and  attend  to  agriculture,  live  more 
comfortably,  and  taste  a  little  the  sweets  of  civilized  life. 

The  lands  along  the  river  above  the  post,  are  not  very  inviting,  being  a 
thin  poor  soil,  and  covered  with4)ine  wciod.  To  the  right,  the  settlement* 
on  the  bayau  Barthelemi  and  Siard,  are  said  to  be  rich  land. 

On  the  morning  of  the  13th,  they  passed  an  island  and  a  strong  rapid,  and 
arrived  at  a  little  settlement  below  a  chain  of  rocks,  which  cross  the  channel 
between  aii  island  and  the  main  land,  called  Romie  Raw.  The  Spaniard 
and  his  family,  settled  here,  appear,  from  their  indolence,  to  live  miserably. 
The  river  acquires  here  a  more  spacious  appearance,  being  about  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  yards  wide.  In  the  afternoon  thev  passed  tlie  bayau  Bar- 
thelemi on  the  right,  above  the  last  settlements,  and  atmut  twelve  computed 
leagues  from  the  post  Here  commences  Baitm  Bastrop's  g^reat  grant  of 
land  from  the  Spanish  government,  being  a  square  of  twelve  leagues  on 
each  side,  a  little  exceedmg  a  million  of  French  acres.  The  banks  of  the 
river  continue  about  thirty  feet  high,  of  which  eighteen  feet  from  the  water 
are  a  clayey  loam  of  a  pale  ash  cou>ur,  upon  which  the  water  has  deposited 
twelve  feet  of  light  sandy  soil,  apparently  fertile,  and  of  j»  dartc  brown  color. 
This  description  of  land  is  of  small  breadth,  not  exccedinp^  Iialf  a  mile  on 
each  side  of  tlie  river,  and  may  be  called  the  valley  of  the  Washita,  beyond 
which  there  is  high  land  covered  with  pines. 

The  soil  of  the  "  Bayau  dcs  Buttes,"  continues  thin  with  a  growth  of 
small  timber.  This  creek  is  named  from  a  number  of  Indian  mounts  dis- 
covered by  the  hunters  along  its  course.  The  margin  of  the  river  begins  to 
be  covered  with  such  timber  as  usually  grows  on  inundated  land,  particul arty 
a  species  of  white  oak,  vulgariy  called  the  over-cup  oak  ;  its  timber  is  remark- 
obly  bard,  solid,  ponderous  and  durable,  and  it  produces  a  large  acorn  in  great 
abundance,  upon  which  the  bear  feeds,  and  which  is  very  fattening  to  hogs. 
In  lat  3i^  5C  &"  N.  they  passed  a  long  and  narrow  island.  The  face  of 
the  country  begins  to  change  ;  the  banks  are  low  and  steep  ;  tlie  river  deep- 
er and  more  contracted,  from  thirty  to  fifty  yards  in  width.  The  soil  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  river  is  a  very  sandy  loam,  and  covered  with  such  ve- 
getables V  are  found  on  the  inundated  lands  of  the  Mississippi.  The  tract 
presents  tlie  appearance  of  a  new  soil,  very  different  from  what  they  passed 
below.  This  alluvial  tract  may  be  supposed  the  site  of  a  g^reat  lake,'  drained 
by  a  natural  channel,  from  the  abrasion  of  the  waters  :  since  which  period 
the  aimual  inundations  have  deposited  the  superior  soil  ;  eighteen  or  twen- 
ty feet  is  wanting  to  render  it  habitable  for  man.  It  appears,  nevertheless, 
well  stocked  with  the  beasts  of  the  forest,  several  of  which  were  seen. 

Quantities  of  water  fowl  arc  beginning  to  make  their  appearance,  which 
•re  not  very  numeroos  here  until  the  cold  rains  and  frost  compel  them  to 
leave  a  more  iiorthem  climate.  Fish  is  not  so  abundant  as  might  be  expect- 
efl,  owing,  it  is  said,  to  the  inundation  of  the  Mississippi,  in  the  year  1799, 
vhich  dammed  up  the  Washita,  some  distance  above  the  post,  and  produc- 
ed a  stagnation  and  consequent  corruption  of  the  waters  that  destroyed  all 
the  fish  within  its  influence. 

At  noon  on  the  15th  November,  they  passed  the  island  of  Mallet,  and  at 
ninety  yards  north-east  from  the  upper  point  of  the  island,  by  a  g^d  obser- 
viition  ascertained  their  latitude  to  oe  3i®  5S'  27*.  5  N.  or  two  seconds  and 
ft  h«lf  of  latitude  south  of  tho  dividing  line  between  the  territories,  of  Or- 


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Usktrs  send  LouUiana.  Tke  bed  of  thd  nver  slotig^tbisr  allQv'dl  c^pAbt^ir 
generally  covered  with  waiter,  and  the  xkixvigviion  UmnCerrBpted  v  but  b 
the  alt'^rnooitot'  tliis  day,  they  passed  tiiree  coniigmms'  sand  bars,  or  beach» 
€-«,  c.iUod  **  le9  troU  battiires,"  and  belbre  ovcmnt*  the  *'bayaude  gwriA 
Mar:iis,"  or  gfvtut  marsh  creek  on  tlie  n|^bt»  and  "  kt  Cypren  Chrtttetnu," 
a-  point  of  hij^li  hind  on  tJic  other  side,  w!uch  pBaciiGs  vritbin  half  a  mile  of 
the  river.  As  thcv  advanced  towards  the  marais  de  sahoc,  on  the  ri^t,  t 
strjt' 111)  f>r  dirty  white  clay  under  the  alluvial  tract,  shesfred  them  to  b<f 
lea^  i!i;:c  the  sunken,  and  approaching',  the  higii  kmd  coiintry.  The  salt  licb 
mars' I  dncs  not  derive  its  name  from  any  bnick&shncss'  in  the  water  of  tfc» 
lok^  Of'  ntarsh,  bat  B-om  it»  contiguity  to  some  of  the  Itdts*,  sosiehmes  call-' 
ed  *•  sitUne,"  amlsometiaic*  "  glaiscy"  genoralfar  found  in  a  cby,  compact 
enoug-h  for  potters'  ware.  The  bayatt  do  la  Tul^  tonat  a  corrnnwication 
between  tl\e  lake  and  the  river.  Opposite  to  tl»s  ptece^  tb«re  it  a  point  of 
iiiffli  land,  forming  a  promontory,  advancing  wHhiii  a  itiite  (^  the  liver,  aild> 
to  wliich  boats  resort  when  the  low  grounds  are  under  water.  A  short 
league  above  is  the  msuth  o^  the  grand  bayaude  lot  Saiine  (Salt  Liflfr 
creek).  This  creek  is  of  a  considerable  kngtii,  and  Axvigable  for  smsll 
boats.  The  hunters  ascend  it,,  to  one  hundred  of.  their  leagues,  iti  pwwiii 
of  game,  and  all  agree  that  none  of  the  springs'  which  feed  this  crcefc^arc 
j^alt  It  has  obtained  its  name  fiom  the  many  buffaloc  salt  Hcksxrhich  haf« 
been  discovered  in  its  vicinity.  Altht)ugh  most  of  these  Kc^s,  by  dig:^^, 
furnish  water  wliicli  holds  marine  s-.dt  in  sokutiony  thero  exists  Atf  reason  far 
believing  that  many  of  them  would  produce  nkr^.  NoitwitfajtttiidiB^  thi# 
low  alltiviol  tract  appears  in  all  respects  wck  adapted  to  the  gro^vth  m  the 
long  mo38  (tilahdsia),  none  was  obsored  since  entkering  it  m  laititude  3'i* 
5i/,  and  as  tlie  pilot  informed  them  none  would  be  seen  in  tiicir  progfearf 
up  the  river,  it  is  probable  that  die  ktitude  of  thiity-three  degrees  is  aboae- 
the  northern  limit  of  vegetation.  The  long-leaf  pine,  frecpiently  thtf 
f^wth  of  rich  and  even  inundated  land,  Ttcs  here  obscfrved  in  great  aim- 
dance  :  the  short-leaved  or  pitch'  pine,  on  the  contrary,  i»  al^ya  foofld 
upon  arid  lands  and  generally  in  sandy  and  lofty  situatioiis. 

This  is  the  season  wlieii  the  pOor  ^ttlers  on  the  Waahitsr  tuifl  out  t* 
ftfakc  their  annual  hunt.  The  deer  is  now'  fot  and  the  skins  in  perfection,*- 
the  boar  is  now  also  in  his  best  state,  with  regutl'  to  the  quality  of  his  fijr, 
and  the  riiiantity  of  iat  or  oil  he  jieUlsv  as  he  hay  ho^n  feasting  luxurianflf 
on  thy  nntiutinal  fiiiits  of  the  foi-est.  It  is  tn^re  well  kjio\<^  thatlie  does  not 
confine  himself,  as  some  writer*  ha^-e  supposed^  to  ^'egetable  food  ;  he  i* 
pkr^icularly  fond  kjC  hogs  flesh  ;  sheep  and  calves  are  frequently  hi*  pttf^ 
&i\i\  no  ai'imj^  escapes  hiro  wliicli  comes  within  his  pa#er,  ajnii  i^Wch  W 
IS  able  to  conquer.  He  often  destroys  the  ^wn  wlien  chance  throws  it  itf 
fiis  \vay  ;  he  cjinnot  however,  discover' it  by  smelling,  notwltHstaddlhgtlitf 
exrellence  of  his  scent,  for  natui-e  4as,  a?  if  for  its  prOti^etion,  dcnieiitW 
^wnthe  property  of  leaving  any  eBluvimH  upoh  its  trax^,  %pn0f(^  *" 
liwwerfulin  the  old  deer/  The  bear,  unlike  most  other  beWts^fprtjT/ 
does  not  kill  the  animal  he  has  seized  upon  before' he  eats  it;  ti»ftgtiwsi' 
of  its  struggles,  cries  and  l7:mentiil!S^Tf8,.fatft9e]l«  uponi  and  if  th<  etplt«sioir 
Is  allowable,  devoms  it  alive.  Thehi6iterb  d^um  muchvorf  their  pwfit» 
from  the  oil  drawn  from  the  bears  fiit,  which,  at  MtrW  OHMfs^  i»  ai<R5«  <^ 
ready  sale,  and  much  esteemed  for  itF  w^iolesom^esff  in  coMi^  bdh^|W*' 
ferred  to  butter  or  hogs  lard.  It  is  found  to'keep  loilgeiL  ^tmf  tBf  ^i^ 
Animal  oil  without  becoming  rancid  ;  and  boiling*  it)  fi«ttt  tMM  t»  tiflW*-^ 
ct^  sweet  bay  leaves,  restores  it  sweetnesv^  or  fxuUmet  kM^cmmf^Mi 

«  Tt  m^y  not  be  jrenertlly  known  to  natnradlll*;  th;ir!»etfti^tii^tyie  tooT  oftlk  d«er,  •*#'? 
fc  found  A  Tack,  with  Irs  mouth  indlfilng  upwards,  contAinhis  more  or  left  of  nrai^  n^  wiitV 
bv  crcapiiip  o%'er  the  opening,  in  proporUon  to  the  ftcretlod,  cauflcft  die ib«$  tal^vca  *"~* "" 
the  CTonnd  wherever  it  paflVs.  Durinf;  tlie  rutting  re)i(bn'tm<f  nmBi'ftVuMomittf^ 
a>ohtipalehM  to  be  todt  fry  thohttpterHt  ar€oa86cri<)l>dHtfcwft- 


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It^WWttoon  of  t]^  17th  they  passed  some  sand  beadies,  snd  over  a 
icw  rapids.  They  had  cane  brakes  on  both  sides  of  the  river  ;  the  cants 
Were  smiUl  but  demonstrate  that  the  water  does  not  surmount  the  bank 
jnore  than  a  fey  feet  The  river  begins  to  widen  as  they  advance  :  the 
banks  of  the  river  shew  the  high  land  soil,  with  a  stratum  of  three  or  four 
f^tof  alluvion  deposited  by  the  river  upon  it.  This  superstratum  is  grey- 
ish>and  very  sandy,  with  a  small  admixture  of  loam,indicative  of  Uie  poverty 
of  the  mountains  and  uplands  where  the  river  rises.  Near  this  they  passed 
through  a>  new  and  very  narrow  channel,  in  which  all  the  water  of  the  river 
passes,  except  iu  time  of  freshes,  when  the  interval  forms  an  island.  A 
little  al>ove  this  paSs  is  a  small  clearing,  called  *'  Cache  la  Tulipe*'  (Tulip's 
hiding  plaee)  ;  this  is  the  luune  of  a  French  hunter  who  here  concealed  his 
properQT.  It  continues  the  practice  of  both  the  white  and  red  hunters  to 
lei^e  their  skins,  &c.  often  suspended  to  poles,  or  laid  over  a  pole  placed  up- 
on two  forked  posts,  in  sight  of  the  river,  until  their  return  from  hunting. 
These  deposits  are  consi<tered  as  sacred,  and  few  examples  exist  of  their 
bein^  plundered.  After  passing  the  entrance  of  a  bay,  which  withiii 
must  form  a  great  lake  during  the  inundation,  gieal  numbers  of  the  long 
leaf  pine  were  observed  ;  and  the  increased  size  of  the  canes  along  the  ri- 
ver's bank,  denoted  a  better  and  more  elevated  soil ;  on  the  left  Was  a  high 
hill  (300  feet)  covered  with  lofty  pine  trees. 

The  banks  of  the  river  present  more  the  appearance  of  upland  soil,  the 
under  stratum  being  a  pale  yellowish  clay,  and  the  alluvial  soil  of  a  diity 
white,  surmounted  with  a  thin  covering  of  a  brown  vegetable  eartli.  Th<j 
4rees  imiat>ve  in  appearance,  growing  to  a  considerable  size  and  height, 
though  yet  hiferiour  to  those  on  the  alluvial  banks  of  the  Mississippi.  After 
passing  the  "Boyau  de  Hachis,'*  on  the  left,  points  of  higli  land,  not  subject  t> 
be  overflowed,  trequently  toucli  the  river  and  tlie  valley  is  said  to  be  more 
than  A  league  in  breadth  on  both  sides.  On  the  left  are  pine  hills  called 
"  Code  dc  Champignole."  The  river  is  not  more  than  fifty  or  sixty  yard^ 
widci  On  the  mormne  of  the  20th  they  passed  a  number  of  saml  beache»> 
«nd  some  rapids,  but  round  good  depth  of  w.iter  between  them.  A  creek 
ealled  "  Chcmin  Couvert,"  wliich  R>rms  a  deep  ravine  in  tlie  hig-Ii  lands, 
here  enters  the  river  ;  almost  immediately  above  tliis  is  a  rapid  where  the 
Ivater  in  the  river  is  confined  to  a  channel  of  about  forty  yards  in  width  -, 
id>ove  it  they  had  to  quit  the  main  channel,  on  account  of  the  shallowness 
end  rapidity  of  the  water,  and  pass  along  a  narrow  channel  of  only  sixty  feet 
wide  :  irithout  a  guide  a  stranger  mi g^t  take  this  passage  for  a  creek. 

Notwithstanding  the  lateness  of  the  season,  and  the  northern  latitude 
they  were  in,  they  this  da,y  met  with  an  alligator.  The  banks  of  tiie  river 
-Mre  covered  with  cane,  or  thick  under  brush,  frequently  so  interwoven  with 
thorns  tad  briars  as  to  be  impenetrable.  Birch,  maple,  holly,  and  two  kind? 
I>f  wood  to  which  names  have  not  yet  been  given,  except "  water  side  wood,** 
#re  here  met  with  ;  as  also  persimons  and  small  black  grapes.  The  margin 
of  the  river  is  fringed  with  a  variety  of  plants  and  vines,  among  wliich  ai-c 
several  species  of  convolvulus.     . 

On  the  left  they  passed  a  hill  and  cliff  one  hundred  feet  perrendicidar, 
-trowned  with  pines,  and  called  "  Cote  de  Finn**  (Fin's  hili)  frora  which  a 
^hain  of  high  land  continues  some  distance.  The  cliff  presents  I  he  appear- 
ance of  an  ash  coloured  clay.  A  little  farther  to  the  right  is  tiie  Bayau 
^' Acasia^Locust  creek).  The  river  varies  here  from  eirhty  to  an  hundred 
yards  in  width,  presenting  frequent  indications  of  iron  along  its  banks,  and 
.eome^thiii  Mnite  of  iron  ore.  The  ore  is  from  half  an  inch  to  three  inches 
an  thickness. 

Vol.  III.  Appendix.        K 


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74  AMERICAN  STATE   TkTT.lLS, 

On  the  morninjf  of  the  22d  of  November,  they  arrived  it  ^e  Void  of  (k# 
Chadadoquls  Indian  nation  leading  to  the  Arkansa  nation  ;  aUttle  bejood 
this  is  tlie  Ecor  a  Fabri  (Fabri's  cliffs)  from  80  to  100  fetrt  high  ;  tnd  a^ctk 
distance  above,  a  smaller  cliff  called  '*  Le  Petit  Ecor  a  Fabri**  (the  LitAt 
Cliff  of  Fabri)  :  these  cliffs  appear  chiefly  to  be  composed  of  ash  cokxned 
•and,  with  a  stratum  of  clay  at  the  base,  such  as  runs  all  along  under  tbe 

•  banks  of  this  river.  Above  tlicse  cliffs  are  several  rapids  ;  the  ciUTeoiii 
swifter,  and  denotes  their  ascent  into  a  higher  country  :  the  water  becoocs 
clear,  and  equal  to  any  in  its  very  agreeable  taste  and  as  drinking  water-  In 
the  river  are  immense  beds  of  gravel  and  sand,  over  which  the  water  panes 
with  great  velocity  in  the  season  of  its  floods,  carrying  with  it  vast  muntiticfl 
of  drill  wood,  which  it  piles  up,  in  many  places,  to  the  height  c^  iwatf 
feet  above  the  present  surface,  pointing  out  the  difl^culty  and  danger  of  na- 
vigation in  certain  times  of  the  flood  ;  accidents,  hovrever,  ut  rait  intk 
the  canoes  of  the  country. 

As  tlie  party  ascended  they  found  the  banks  of  the  river  less  elenied,  be- 
ing only  from  nine  to  twelve  feet  and  are  probably  surmounted  by  the  froha 
some  feet.  The  river  becomes  more  obstructed  by  rapids,  and  sand  and 
gravel  beaches,  among  which  are  found  fragments  of  stone  of  all  fonni,  md 
a  variety  of  colours,  some  highly  polished  and  rounded  by  friction.  Tbe  baob 
of  the  river  in  this  upper  country  suffer  greatly  by  abrasion,  one  aide  and 
sometimes  both  being  broken  down  by  ever>'  flood. 

At  a  place  called  "  Aug^cs  d' Arc  Ion,"   (Arclon's  troughs)  is  kminitd 

•  iron  ore,  and  a  stratum  of  black  sand,  very  tenacious,  shining  with  misutt 
clirj'stuls.  The  breadth  of  tlie  river  is  here  about  eighty  yards:  insooc 
places,  however,  it  is  enlarged  by  islands,  in  others,  contracted  to  ei^  or 
one  hundred  feet.  Rocks  of  a  greyish -colour,  and  rather  friable,  arc  here 
found  in  many  places  on  the  river.*  On  the  banks  grow  willows  o(  a(fifo- 
ent  form  from  tliose  found  below,  arnl  on  the  margin  of  the  Mississippi ;  the 
last  arc  very  brittle ;  these,  on  tlie  contrary,  are  extremely  pUaBt,4eseiDbficf 
the  osier,  of  which  they  are  probably  a  species. 

At  noon  on  the  24th,  they  arrived  at  the  confluence  of  the  lesser  Missoa- 
ri  with  the  Wasliita  ;  tlie  former  is  a  considerable  branch,  perhaps  the ibortk 
of  the  Washita,  and  comes  in  from  the  left  hand.  The  hunters  ofteb  ascend 
the  Little  Missouri,  but  are  not  inclined  to  penetrate  far  up,  because  it 
reaches  ne.ir  the  great  plains  or  prairies  upon  the  Red  river,  visited  by  the 
lesser  Osiige  tribes  of  Indians,  settled  on  Arkansa  ;  these  last  frequently 
carry  war  into  tlie  Chadadoquis  ti*ibe  settled  on  the  Red  river,  about  west, 
south-west  from  this  place,  uiid  indeeil  they  are  reported  not  to  spare  aar  na- 
tion or  people.  They  are  prevented  from  visiting  the  head  waters  of  tic 
Washita  by  the  steep  hills  in  which  tliey  rise.  These  mountains  aresotfif- 
ficult  to  travel  over,  that  the  savages  not  having  an  object  suffidendy  dear- 
able,  never  attempt  to  peijetrate  to  this  river,  and  it  is  supposed  to  be  on- 
^known  to  tlie  nation.  The  Cadadoquis  (or  Cadaux,  asthe  French  prowwRct 
the  word)  may  be  considered  as  Si^anish  Indians  j  they  boast,  sod  it  is  said 
with  truth,  tliat  they  never  have  imbrued  their  hands  in  the  blood  of  a  white 
man.  It  is  said  tliat  the  stream  of  the  Little  Missouri,  some  distance  fioa 
its  mouth,  flows  over  a  bright  splendid  bed  of  mineral  of  a  yellowish  white 
colour,  (most  probably  martial  pyrites)  that  thirty  yean  ago,  streral  of  the 
inhabitants,  hunters,  worked  upon  this  mine,  and  sent  a  quantity  of  the  ore 
to  the  governtoient  at  New  Orleans,  and  they  vttre  prohibited  from  working 
any  more. 

There  is  a  great  sameness  in  the  appearance  of  the  river  banks  :  the  is- 
lands are  skirted  with  osier,  and  immediately  -within,  on  the  bank,  grows  a 

•  The  banks  rise  into  tUUt  of  free  ttone  of  avetry  sharp  and  fine  {rit,  fie  lor  gilBAlM'^ 
The  itrau  Irregular,  indinlog  IrOm  SO  dqptca  ts  30  degrees  down  the  rircr. 


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AMERICAN   STATE   PAP£R$.  75 

tafif^  of  birch  trees  and  some  willows  ;  the  more  elevated  banks  src  cover* 
ed  with  cane,  a^long  which  grows  the  oak,  maple,  elm,  8)'camore,  ash,  hic<  . 
kory-,  dog  wood,  holly,  iron  wood,  &c.  From  the  pilot  they  learned  tliat  there 
is  a  body  of  excellent  land  on  the  Little  Missouri,  particularly  on  the  creek 
called  the  "  fiayau  a  terre  noire,"  which  falls  into  it.  This  land  extends  to 
Hjed  river  and  is  connected  with  the  great  prairies  which  form  the  himt- 
ing  grounds  of  the  Cadaux  nation,  consisting  of  about  two  hundred  warriors. 
They  are  warlike,  but  frequently  unable  to  defend  themselves  against  the 
tribe  of  Osagcs,  settled  on  the  Arcansa  river,  who  passing  round  the  moun- 
t:uns  at  the  head  of  the  Washita,  and  along  the  prairies,  which  separate 
tliem  from  tlie  main  chain  on  the  west,  where  the  waters  of  the  Red  and 
Acansa  rivers  have  tlieir  rise,  pass  into  tlie  Cadaux  countrj',  and  rob  and 
plunder  them- 

The  water  in  the  river  Washita  rising,  the  party  are  enabled  to  pass  the 
Mumerous  rapids  and  shoals  which  tliey  meet  with  in  the  upper  country  ; 
»ome  of  which  are  difficult  of  ascent.  I'he  general  height  of  the  main 
banks  of  the  river  is  irom  six  to  twelve  feet  aljove  the  level  of  the  wuter  ; 
the  land  is  better  in  quality,  the  canes,  &c.  shewing  a  more  luxuriant  vegeta- 
tion. It  is  subject  to  inundation,  and  shews  a  brown  soil  mixed  with  sand. 
Near  Cache  Ma^on  (^f  aison's  hiding  place)  on  tlie  right,  they  stopped  to  ex- 
amine a  supposed  coal  mine  :  doctor  Hunter  and  the  pilot  set  out  for  this 
purpose  and  at  fibout  a  mile  and  a  h^lf  north-west  from  the  boat,  in  the  bed 
of  a  creek,'  they  found  a  substance  similar  to  what  tliey  had  before  met  with 
under  that  name,  though  more  advanced  towards  a  state  of  perfect  coal. 
At  tlie  bottom  of  the  creek,  in  a  place  then  dry,  was  found  detached  pieces 
of  from  50  to  100  pounds  weight,adjoining  to  which  lay  wood  ch;^nging  into 
the  same  substance.  A  stratum  of  this  coal,6  inches  tliick,  lay  on  both  sides 
of  this  little  creek,  over  another  of  yellow  clay,  and  covered  by  one  foot  of 
gravel ;  on  the  gravel  is  8  inches  ofloam,which  bears  a  few  inches  of  vegetable 
mould.  This  stratum  of  coal  is  about  3  feet  higher  than  the  water  in  tlic 
creek,  and  appei^*s  manifestly  to  have  been,  at  some  period,  the  siuface  of  the 
ground.  The  gravel  and  loam  have  been  deposited  there  since,  by  the  wa- 
ters. Some  pieces  of  this  cqal  were  very  black  and  solid,  of  an  homogene- 
ous appearance,  much  resembling  pit  coal,  but  of  less  specifick  g^'avity.  It 
does  not  appear  sufficiently  impregnated  with  bitumen,  but  may  be  consider- 
ed as  vegetable  matter  in  the  progress  of  transmutation  to  coal. 

Below  the  "  Bayau  de  Teau  Froide,"  which  runs  into  the  Washita  from 
the  rig^t,  the  river  is  one  hundred  and  seventy  yards,  flowing  through  toler- 
ably good  land.  They  passed  a  beautiful  forest  of  pines,  and  on  the  28th 
fell  in  with  an  old  Dutch  hunter  imd  his  pa^y,  consisting  in  all  of  hve  per- 
sons. 

This  man  has  resided  forty  years  on  the  Washita,  and  before  tlut  period, 
has  been  up  the  Arcansa  river,  the  White  river,  and  the  river  St  Francis  ; 
the  tvfo  la^  he  informs,  are  of  difficult  navigation,  similar  to  the  Washita, 
but  the  Arkansa  river  is  of  great  magnitude,  having  a  large  and  broad  chan- 
nel, and  when  the  water  is  low,  has  great  sand  banlvs,  like  those  in  the  Mis- 
sissippi. So  far  as  he  has  been  up  it  the  navigation  is  safe  and  commodious, 
w^ithout  impediments  from  rocks,  shoals,  or  rapids  ;  its  bed  being  formed 
of  mud  and  sand.  The  soil  on  it  is  of  the  first  rate  quality.  The  country 
is  easy'of  access,  being  lofly  open  forests,  unembarrassed  by  cans  or  under 
growth.  The  water  is  disagreeable  to  di*ink,  being  of  a  red  colour  and 
brackish  when  the  river  is  low.  A  multitude  of  creeks  which  flow  into 
the  Arkansa  furnish  sweet  water,  which  the  vpyager  is  obliged  to  carry 
with  him  for  the  supply  of  his  immediate  wants.    This  man  coi&ms  the  ac-r . 

f  Ca^  9o4.1-mbie  creek. 


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T6  AWEHICAN   STATE   ^A?SE^ 

c<Mnt§  of  ailrcr  beings  abondant  up  that  river :  he  has  noi  be^  ae  high  Mta 
•ee  it  himself,  but  says  he  received  a  silver  pin  from  a  hunter,  who  utured 
him  that  he  himself  collected  the  virgin  silver  from  the  rock,  out  of  which 
he  mude  tlie  eping^lcte  by  hammering-  it  out  The  tribe  of  the  Oiage  Htc 
hig^her  upthun  this  position,  but  the  hunters  rarely  go  so  high,  being  tfrai^ 
of  these  sdvages,  who  are  at  war  with  all  the  world,  and  deMitiy  aH 
•^rangers  they  meet  vith.  ^t  is  reported  that  the  Arc&nsa  nation,  with  a 
part  ol  the  Choctaws,  Chlckasaws,  Shawneese,  &c.  have  formed  a  league, 
and  are  actually  gone,  or  going,  800  strong:,  against  tliese  depredat«>ps,  with 
a  view  to  destroy  or  drive  tliem  entirely  otl,  and  posaess  themachre*  of  their 
fine  prairies,  which  are  most  abundant  hunting  grwmd,  being  plentifiilly 
stocked  wit|i  buffaloc,  elk,  deer,  bear,  and  every  other  beast  of  ihe  chase 
common  to  those  latitudes  in  America.  This  hunter  having  given  inlorma- 
tion  of  a  small  spring-  in  tlieir  vicinity,  from  which  he  frequently  supplied 
himself  by  evaporating  the  water,  dtxtor  Himter,  with  a  party,  accompani- 
edUim,  on  the  nioming  of  the  29th  November,  Jx>  the  place.  They  found 
a  ealinc,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  nortli  of  the  camp  from  whence  they  set 
oat,  and  near  a  creek  which  enters  the  Washita  a  little  above.  It  is  situated 
in  the  bottom  of  the  bed  of  a  dry  gulley.  The  surrounding  land  is  rich,  and 
nvell  timbered,  but  subject  to  inundation,  except  an  Indian  mount  on  the 
cj^iek  side,  haring  a  base  of  eiglity  or  a  hundred  feet  ditmeter,  and  twenty 
feet  high.  After  digging  about  three  feet^  through  blue  clay,  they  came  tfl 
a  quicksand,  from  which  the  water  flowed  in  abundance  :  its  taste  was  silt 
and  bitter,  resembling  that  of  water  in  the  ocean.  In  a  second  hole  it  re- 
quired them  to  dig  six  feet  before  they  rea^fied  the  quicksand,  in  doinc  whidi 
they  threw  up  several  broken  pieces  of  Iniiian  pottery.  The  specific!  grari- 
ty,  compared  with  the  river,  was,  from  the  first  pit,  or  that  three  feet  deep, 
1,02720,  from  tlie  second  pit,  or  tJiat  six  feet  deep,  1,03104^  yielding  s  sa- 
line  m.iss,  from  the  evaporation  of  ten  quarts,  whicli,  when  dry,  yr^^bt^ 
eight  ounces  t  tliis  brine  is,  therefore,  aboiti  tl»e  same  stteng^  us  thst  ef 
the  ocean  on  our  coast,  and  twice  the  strcngtli  of  the  ftroous  licks  in  K«i- 
tacky  called  Bullet*s  lick,  and  Mann's  lick,  frt>m  which  so  much  tali  ii 
TWade.  '  , 

The  "  fourche  de  Cadaux"  (Cr.dadoquia  fork)  which  \hty  pjwsed  on  tfea 
morning  of  the  30th,  is  about  one  hundred  yards  wide  at  its  entrance  into 
the  Washita,  from  the  lel't  ;  immediately  beyoiKl  wliich,  on  the  sanie  »ide 
the  land  is  higli,  probably  elevated  three  htmdred  feet  above  the  waiter.  Tbc 
ahoals  and  rapids  here  impede  their  progress.  At  noon  they  "deduced  their 
latitude,  by  observation,  to  be  SO**.  11'.  o 7".  N.  Receiving  inform ation  of 
another  salt  lick,  or  saline,  doctor  Hunter  landed,  -;with  a  pnrty,  to  vfewit 
The  pit  was  found  in  a  low  flat  place,  subject  to  be  overflowed  from  the  fi- 
ver ;  it  was  wet  and  muddy,  the  earth  on  the  sui-face  yellows  but  on  cHg^iJ 
throtifjh  about  4  feet  of  blue  clay,  the  salt  water  oozed  froib  a  cniieksanA 
Ten'qtiarts  of  this  wnter  produced,  by  evaporation,  bounce*  of  a  saline  mass, 
•vfhich,  fitmi  taste,  how<*ver,  shcr.-ed  an  atlmixtui-e  of  aoda,  andmuritted 
magnesia,  but  the  m  -rinc  salt  .eireatly  preponderated.  The  apecifick  gravity 
was  about  1,076,  probably  weakened  fVom  the  rain  which  had  fallen  the  d^ 
before.  The  ascent  of  the  river  becomes  more  troublesome,  from  the  rapi<^ 
and  currents,  particularly  at  the  "  isle  du  bayau  des  Hoclies**  ^Kocky  crcc- 
island)  where  it  required  great  exertions,  and  was  attended  with  '*'™*J^ 
xard  to  pass  them.  This  islfind  is  three  fourths  of  a  mile  in  length.  TiiJ 
river  presents  a  series  of  shoaln,  rapids^  and  small  cataracts ;  and  thcjr  passed 
several  points  of  higli  land,  full  of  rocks  and  stones,  much  harder  »d  mora 
soHd  than  they  had  yet  met  with. 

The  rocks  were  all  silicious,  ^vith  thHr  fissures  penetrated  by  sp^rjr  mat- 
tcr.    Indications  qf  ir<m  were  frequent,  and  fragmerfti^  ^f  ]pi>or  «twet^. 


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•{jtmaon,  l)Ut  no  rich  ore  of  that,  or  any  other  tnettl,  wm  ftwnd.  Some  of 
tb^  blUs  a{>p(ear  well  a^^pted  to  the  cultivation  of  the  vine  ;  the  toil  beSn|^ 
a  tandy  loafli,  with  a  considerable  proportion  of  g^vcl,  and  asoperfici^ 
covering  of  good  vegetable  black  earth.  The  natural  productions  are,  se- 
veral varieties  of  oax,  pin«,  dogwood,  hoUy,  &c.  with  a  scattering  under- 
growth of  whortlebeny,  hawthorn,  cjiina  briar,  and  a  variety  of  small 
vines. 

Above  the  Isle  dc  Mallon,  the  country  wears  another  prospect,  high  landi 
and  rocks  frequently  approach  the  river.  The  rocks  in  grain,  resernole  free 
•tone,  and  are  hard  enough  to  be  used  as  hand  mill  stones,  to  which  purpose 
they  arc  frequently  applied  The  qualitvof  the  lands  improves,  the  stratum 
of  vegetable  earth  being  from  s:x  to  twelve  inches,  of  a  dark  brown  colour, 
with  an  admixture  of  loam  and  sand.  Below  Deer  Island  they  passed  a 
stratum  of  free  stone,  fifly  feet  thick,  under  which  is  a  quarry  of  imperfect 
slate  in  perpendiculsr  layers.  About  a  league  from  the  river,  and  a  Kttle 
above  the  sute  quarry,  is  a  considerable  plain,  called  **  Prairie  de  Champig- 
nole,**  often  frequented  by  buffaloc.  Soine  salt  licks  are  found  near  it,  and 
in  many  situations  on  both  sideS  of  this  river,  there  are  said  to  be  salines 
ii^ch  may  hereaftSr  be  rendered  very  productive,  and  from  which  the  fu- 
ture settlements  tnay  be  abundantly  supplied. 

About  4  miles  below  the  "chuttes,'*  (falls)  they,  from  a  good  observation, 
fbund  the  latitude  34^.  21'  25*.  5.  The  land  on  either  hand  continues  to  im- 
prove in  quality,  with  a  sufficient  stratum  of  dark  earth  of  brownish  colour. 
Hills  frequently  rise  out  of  the  level  country,  full  of  rocks  and  stones,, 
hard  and  flinty,  and  often  resembling  T\irkey  oU  stones.  Of  this  kind  was 
a  promontory  which  came  in  from  the  right  hand,  a  little  below  the  chuttes ; 
at  a  distance  it  presented  the  appearance  of  ruined  buildings  and  fortifica- 
tions, and  several  insulated  masses  of  rock  conveyed  the  iaea  of  redoubts 
and  oait- works.  This  effect  was  heightened  by  the  rising  of  a  flock  of  swans 
whlcli  bad  taken  their  station  in  the  water,  at  the  foot  of  these  walls.  As 
the  vc»yagcrs  approached,  the  birds  floated  about  majestically  on  the  glassy 
surface  of  the  water,  and  in  tremulous  accents  seemed  to  consult  upon 
means  of  safety.  The  whole  was  a  sublime  picture.  In  the  afternoon  of 
the  third  of  December,  they  reached  the  chuttes,  and  found  the  falls  to  be 
occasioned  by  a  chain  of  rocks  of  the  same  hard  substance  seen  below,  ex- 
tending' in  the  toection  of  north-east  and  south-west,  quite  across  the  river. 
The  water  passes  through  a  number  of  branches  worn  by  the  impetuosi^* 
of  the  torrent  where  it  forms  so  many  cascades.  The  chain  of  rock  or  hin 
on  the  left*  appears  to  have  been  cut'down  to  its  present  level  by  the  abra- 
sion of  tlie  waters.  Bv  great  exertion,  and  lightening  the  boat,  they  pass- 
ed llie  chuttes  thia  evening  and  encamped  just  above  the  cataracts,  and  with- 
in the  hearing  of  their  incessant  roar. 

Immediately  above  the  chuttes,  the  current  of  the  water  is  slow,  to  ano- 
ther ledgje  of  hard  free  stone  ;  the  reach  between  is  spacious,  rtot  less  than 
two  hundred  yards  wide,  and  terminated  by  a  hill,  three  hundred  feet  high 
covered  with  beautiful  pines  :  this  is  a  fine  situation  for  building.  In  lati- 
tude 34®  Sy  48*  they  passed  a  very  dangerous  rapid,from  the  number  of  rocks 
which  W)struct  the  passage  of  the  water,  and  break  it  into  foam.  On  the 
r|ght  of  the  rapid  is  a  high  rocky  hill  covered  with  vcrv  handsome  pine  woods. 
The  strata  of  the  rock  has  an  inclination  of  30°  to  tie  horizon  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  river  descending:.  This  hill  maybe  three  himdred  or  three  himd- 
rcd  and  fif\y  feet  high ;  a  border  or  list  of  green  cane  skirts  the  margin  of 
the  river,  beyond  w7ii<^  generally  rises  a  hi^i  and  sometimes  a  barren  bin. 
ISTear  another  rapjd  they  passed  a  hill  on  the  left,  containing  a  lar^  body  of 
blue  slate.  A  $mall  distance  abo%'e  the  bayau  de  Saline  they  had  to  pass  a 
rapid  of  Qjia  hundred  axld  fifly  yards  in  length,  and  four  feet  and  a  half  fall. 


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ft  AMERICAN   STATB   PAPXEl. 

which,  from  its  velocity,  the  French  have  denominated  "Lt  Cascade."  B^ 
low  the  cascade  there  are  rocky  hills  on  both  lides  composed  of  veryhaid 
free  stone.  The  stone  in  the  bed  of  the  river,  ind  which  hu  been  wUed 
fto.n  the  upper  country,  was  of  the  hardest  flint,  or  of  a  ({uality  lesembbn? 
the  Turkey  oil  stone.  **  Fourche  au  Ti^ee,"  (Tygti's  creek),  which  coroei 
in  from  the  rig^t,  a  little  above  the  cascade,  i$  said  to  have  many  extensive 
tracts  of  rich  level  land  upon  it.  The  rocky  hills  here  frequently  ipproack 
the  Washita  on  both  sides  ;  rich  bottoms  are  nevertheless  infrequent,  and 
the  upland  is  sometimes  of  moderate  elevation  and  tolerably  level.  The 
stones  and  rocks  here  met  with  have  their  hssures  fiUed  by  sparry  and  chiyi- 
taline  matter. 

Wildturkies  become  more  abundant  and  less  difficult  of  approach  than  be- 
low ;  and  the  howl  of  the  wolves  is  heard  during  the  night 

To  the  **  Fourche  of  Calfat,"  (Caulker's  creek)  where  the  voyage  tenni- 
nates,  they  found  level  and  good  land  on  the  right  and  high  hills  on  the  left 
hand.  After  passing  over  a  very  precipitous  rapid,  seemingly  divided  mto 
four  steps  or  falls,  one  of  which  v^sls  at  least  fifteen  inches  m  perpendicular 
height,  and  which  together  could  not  be  less  thim  five  and  a  half  feet,  they 
arrived  at  EUis's  camp,  a  small  distance  below  the  fourche  au  Calfat,  where 
they  stopped  on  the  sixth  of  December,  as  the  pilot  considered  itthenjost 
convenient  landing  from  whence  to  carry  their  necessary  baggage  to  the  hot 
springs,  tlie  distance  being  about  three  leagues.  There  is  a  creek  about 
two  leagues  higher  up,  called  "  bayau  des  sources  chauds,"  (hot  spring 
creek)  upon  tlic  banks  of  which  the  hot  springs  are  situated  at  about  tw 
leagues  from  its  mouth.  The  banks  of  it  are  hilly,  and  the  road  less  chgi- 
ble  than  from  Ellis's  camp. 

On  ascending  the  hill,  to  encamp,  they  found  the  land  very  level  and  good, 
8on>e  plants  in  flower,  and  a  great  many  evergreen  vines  ;  the  forest  oak 
with  an  admixture  pf  other  woods.  The  latitude  of  tliis  place  is  34°  27'  31'. 
5.  The  ground  on  which  they  encamped  was  above  fifty  feet  above  the  wa- 
tcr  in  the  river,  and  supposed  to  be  thirty  feet  higher  than  the  inundations. 
Hills  of  considerable  height,  and  clothed  with  pine  were  in  view,  but  the 
land  around,  and  extending  beyond  their  view,  lies  handsomely  for  cultira- 
tion.  The  si^perstratum  is  of  a  blackish-brown  colour,  upon  ayellov  basis, 
the  whole  intermixed  with  gravel  and  blue  schistus,  frequently  so  for  decom- 
posed as  to  hijvc  a  strong  allumnious  taste.  From  their  camp,  on  the  Wash- 
ita, to  the  hot  springs,  a  dist-ance  of  about  nine  miles,  the  first  six  milci  of. 
the  road  is  in  h  w^*steily  direction  without  many  sinuosities,  and  the  remain- 
der northwardly,  which  courses  are  necessary  to  avoid  some  very  steep  hills. 
In  this  distance  they  found  3  principal  salt  ucks,  and  some  inferiour  ones, 
which  are  all  frequented  by  buft'aloc,  deer,  &c.  The  soil  around  them  is  a 
white,  tenacious  clay,  probably  fit  for  potters'  ware  ;  hence  the  name  of 
•*  glaise,"  which  the  French  hunters  have  bestowed  upon  most  of  the  licks, 
frequented  by  the  be:ist  of  the  forest,  many  of  which  exhibit  no  saline  im- 
pregnation. The  first  two  miles  from  tlie  river  camp  is  over  level  land  of 
the  second  r^te  quality  ;  the  timber  chiefly  oak,  intermixed  with  other  trees 
common  to  tlic  climate,  and  a  lew  scattering  pines.  Further  on,  the  lands, 
on  either  h^Hd,  rise  into  gently  swelling  liilU,  covered  with  handsome  pine 
woods.  The  road  passes  along  a  valley '  frequently  wet  by  numerous  rills 
and  springs  of  excellent  water  which  issue  from  the  foot  of  the  hills.  Near 
the  hot  springs  the  hills  become  more  elevated,  steeper  of  ascent  and  rock}'- 
They  are  here  called  moimtains,  although  none  of  them  in  view  exceed 
four  or  five  Immlred  feet  in  altitude.  It  is  said  that  mountains  of  more  than 
five  times  the  elevation  of  these  hills  are  to  be  seen  in  the  north-west,  to* 
wards  the  sources  of  the  Washita.  One  of  them  is  called  the  glass,  crys- 
Ul,  or  shining  mountain,  from  the  vast  number  of  hexagonal  prbQis  of  very , 


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kHtnitKil  STATS'  rXPEH^.  7i 

l^sparenC  &  (Odourless  cryaUl  which  are  found  on  its  surface  ;  tbey  are  ^^ 
ticraUy  surmounted  by  pyramids  at  one  end,  rarely  on  both.  These  crystals 
do  not  produce  a  double  refraction  of  the  rays  of  light  Many  searches 
have  been  made  over  these  mountains  for  the  precious  metuls,  but  it  is  be- 
lieved without  success. 

At  the  hot  springs  they  found  an  open  log  cabin,  and  a  few  huts  of  split 
^boards,  all  calculated  for  summer  encampment,  and  which  had  been  erected 
by  persons  resorting  :to  the  springy  for  the  recovery  of  their  health. 

They  slightly  repaired  these  huts,  or  cabins,  for  their  accommodation  dur- 
ing the  time  of  their  detention  at  the  springs,  for  the  purpose  of  examining 
them  aod  the  surrounding  country  ;  and  making  such  astronomical  observa- 
.tions  as  were  necessary  for  ascertaining  their  geographical  position. 

It  is  understood  that  die  hot  springs  are  included  within  a  grant  of  somt 
hundred  acres,  granted  by  the  late  Spanish  commandant  of  the  Washita,  to 
some  of  his  friends,  but  it  is  not  believed  that  a  regular  patent  was  ever 
issued  for  the  place  i  and  it  cannot  be  asserted  that  residence,  with  improve- 
ment here,  form  a  plea  to  claim  the  land  upon. 

On  their  arrival  they  immediately  tasted  the  waters  of  the  hot  spring!, 
that  is,  after  afe^  minutes  cooling,  for  it  was  hnpossible  to  approach  it  with 
the  lips  when  first  taken  up,  without  scalding  :  the  taste  does  not  differ 
€rom  that  of  good  water  rendered  hot  by  culinary  fire. 

On  the  10th  they  visited  all  the  hot  springs.  They  issue  on  the  east  side 
of  the  valley,  where  the  huts  are,  except  one  spring,  which  rises  on  the 
west  bank  of  the  creek,  from  the  sides  and  foot  of  a  hill.  From  the  small 
•quantity  of  calcareous  matter  yet  deposited,  the  western  spring  does  not 
appear  to  He  of  long  standing  :  a  natural  conduit  probably  passes  under  the 
bed  of  the  creek, -and  supplies  it.  There  arc  four  principal  springs  rising 
immediately  on  the  east  bank  of  the  creek,  one  of  which^  may  be  rath* 
cr  said  to  spring  out  of  the  gravel  bed  of  the  run  ;  a  fifth,  a  smaller 
one  than  that  above  mentioned,  as  rising  on  the  west  side  of  the  creek  ;  and 
a  sixth,  of  the  same  magnitude,  the  most  northerly,  and  rising  near  the  bank 
of  the  creek  :  these  are  all  tlie  sources  that  merit  the  name  of  springs, 
near  the  huts  ;  but  there  is  a  considerable  one  below,  and  all  along,  at  inter- 
vals,  the  warm  water  oozes  out,  or  drops  from  the  bank  into  the  creek,  as 
appears  from  the  condensed  vapour  floating  along  the  margin  of  the  creek 
where  the  drippings  occur. 

•  The  hill  fix)m  which  the  hot  springs  issue  is  of  a  conical  form,  terminating 
at  the  top  with  a  few  loose  fragments  of  rock,  covering  a  flat  space  twenty- 
five  feet  in  diameter.  Although  the  fig^ure  of  the  hill  is  conical  it  is  not  en- 
tirely insulated,  but  connected  with  the  n^ghbouring  hills  by  a  very  narrow 
ridge.  The  primitive  rock  of  this  hill,  above  the  base,  is  principally  sili- 
cious,  some  part  of  it  being  of  the  hardest  flint,  others  a  freestone  extremely 
compact  and  solid,  and  of  various  colours.  The  base  of  the  hill,  and  for  g. 
considerable  extent,  is  composed  of  a  blackish  blue  schistus,  wliich  divides 
into  perpendicular  lamina  like  blue  slate.  The  water  of  the  hot  springs  isg 
thei-efore,  delivered  from  the  silicious  rock,  f^nerally  invisible  at  the  surface 
fr^m  the  mass  of  calcareous  matter  with  which  it  is  incrusted,  or  rather  bu- 
ried, and  which  is  perpetually  precipitating  firom  the  water  of  the  springs  : 
a  small  proportion  of  iron,  in  the  form  of  a  red  calx,  is  aLM  deposited ;  tho 
colour  of  which  is  fi«quently  distinguishid>le  in  the  lime. 

In  ascending  the  hiU  seve^  patches  of  rich  black  earth  are  found,  which 
appear  to  be  formed  by  the  decomposition  of  the  calcareous  matter  :  in  other 
situations  the  siq)erficial  earth  is  penetrated,  or  encrusted,  by  limestone, 
with  fine  lamina,  or  minute  fr^g^ents  of  iron  ore. 

The  water  of  the  hot  springs  must  formeriy  nave  issued  at  a  gtvater  ele* 
ration  in  the  hiD,  and  run  over  the  snrffbt,  ha\ing  formed  a  mass  of  calcic 


iurme, 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


#4  jiUMX^Ajr  *T4T»  f *HM- 

^tuMtton^i^y  fot^d  a  spriiiy,  whoM  tM^jt^iMmi  w^s  ;i4^.  of  Firnbiff 
IkfrcaokMMtor.  Aitev  pvsski^  tlw  aa&o«zi9«Mi  mi^u  tbey  fwad  the  pranitm 
.h^^KWor^  by  ^  iprest  of  no(  yeiy  liirg#  tfffcw»jc«i»i^g  chjgBy  gf  M 
pine,  cedar,  holly,  hawthorn^  and  others  common  to  tb«  cteate,  wiUi  agrMt 
iraiielgr.  •£  vi^g,  api»e  fiOd  to  pro<l\i«o  bUok,  and  ot^h^  yellow  g^apa,  l»oth 
Mccdlent  iQ  tbeir  kukU.  Th«  #pU  i»  rocky,  inttftptf 9^  with  ffitvel,  aaai 
and  Bne  Y^gpetabk  mould.  Od  rtadui^  tiie  heifht  of  two  huj|(ir«ifiMt  ^ 
|f«kttc<ilac,  a  conf iderable  c^anipe  In  the  toii  wm  obferv»U«  >  it  ▼••  itfioj 
-ind  (pravelly,  with  a  sup«rficikl  eoat  of  blaok  <aith«  but  immMiiate^  un^ 
It  liei  a  stratum  of  fat,  tenacious,  aoapy,  red  day,  iodiiting  totbe  col9iir  of 
bright  Spanish  anuO*,  homogen^ouSi  with  acarcely  m^  admiifairt  tf  wa4 
•o  saline,  but  rather  a  soil  agreeable  taate  :  the  timber  dlmi^iiUi,  mi  the 
rocks  incroase  in  size  to  the  summit  The  whiik  beifbt  ii  astimiUdat  tkn^ 
•huiKired  feet  abore  the  level  of  the  valley. 

On  exumiiMDg  the  Ipur  piincipal  spring  or  tho$e  which  yield  ^  greitAit 
quantity  of  water,  or  of  the  highest  ten^pcrature.  No.  1  was  fouod  ^F*NS 
Ihe  mtrcufy  to  150^.  No.  3  to  154P.  No.  3  to  136°.  i^idNa  4tt)i«t«ie. 
|;soes  of  Farenlieit's  thermtmieter  :  the  laat  ia  on  the  west  side  of  Ha 
-credL :  thyJijss  wciaII  basin  in  which  there  is  a  pops^derabk  q^iaatityofgrMli 
matter,  ha\ing  much  the  appearance  of  a  vegetable  body,  but  <ktached  froil 
the  bottom,  }"ct  coanected  with  it  by  something  like  a  stem,  which  resUinaJ- 
careous  matter.  The  body  of  one  of  these  pseudo  plants  was  from  4  to  5  feet  if 
^ameter ;  tlte  bottom  a  smooth  film  of  some  tenacity,  and  the  upp^r  iurfi4»^ 
vided  into  asconding  fibres  of  ^  or  ^  of  an  im^  long",  resemMtfig'  the  giUt  of 
«  fish,  in  transverse  rows.  A  little  ^ther  on  was  another  small  oQuddybtMi, 
in  wiuch  the  water  was  warm  to  the  finger :  in  it  was  avermes  aboatisninek 
long,  with  a  moving  serpentine  or  vermicular  motion.  It  was  invarisUy  obfenfi- 
cd,  that  the  green  matter  fi>i-Wif\g  on  stones  &  the  leaves  covered  a  ftntum jf 
calcareous  earth, aometi mas  a  little  hard/>r  brittle,at  otbttTs  soli  s&diapcriscl 
Jrom  the  bottom  of  <mc  of  the  iiot  springs  a  frequent  ebullition  of  gas  w« 
observed,  which  not  having  the  means  of  coUectmg;  they  could  not  afsertais 
its  nature  :  it  was  not  iq^ammable,  and  there  isUttle  doubt  of  its  betapcvv 
^nic  acid«  from  the  quantity  of  lii]ie,&  the  iron,keld  in  sohilion  b^the  fnter- 
.  They  made  the  following  cough  eatimste  of  the  quantity  of  wotor  dshw 
ered  by  the  springs.  Tliere  are  four  principal  spciags,  twoof  infenour  note; 
^ne  rising  oujb  of  fiie  gravel,  and  a  miihber  of  dlt|i|>ing9  andxiriiningt,aU  isso- 
ing  from  the  mar^,  or  from  under  tlie  rock  which  overhangs  the  eredt 
Of  the  four  first  mentioned,  three  deliver  nearly  equal  quantities,  but  Ko.  \ 
the  moet  conaiderable,  delivers  about  five  times  as  mtidi  as  one  of  the  othtf 
three  ;  the  two  of  infiariour  tiote  may,  together,  be  equal  to  one  ;  spd  all  the 
droppingfs,  and  small  springs,  are.pnJbaMy  imderrated  sit  doable  the  qnao^ 
ty  of  one  of  the  three  »  that  is,  all  together,  they  will  deliver  a  qiustilif 
equal  to  eleven  times  the  water  issuing  fh>m  the  one  most  eoannodiotts|^ 

r'tuatedfor  messurement.  This  spring  filled  a  vessel  of  eleven  qutrU  it 
1  seconds,  hence  the  whole  quantity  of  hot  water  delivefed  from  the  sjHtog* 
At  the  bass  of  the  hill  is  ld5  gaUonft  a  minute,  or  Sf^lf  hogsheads  in  34boori, 
which  is  equal  to  a  handsome  brook,  and  might  wock  so  over-shot  ttulL  h 
•ool  weather  condensed  vapour  is  sden  rising  out  jsf  the  gravtl  bed  of  tbi 
creek,  from  springs  which  cannot  be  taken  mto  Aoeo«nt  During  tbeion^ 
Hier  sud  fall  the  creek  receltes  little  or  no  water  bnt  what  is  suppli^d^ 
the  hot  springs  :  at  that  aeason  itself  is  a  hot  bath^  too  hot,  indeed,  near  m 
Hsrings  I  so  thftt  aperaon  m;^  ohoose  tlm  ttmpeHtMre  ■mstagieeiUHt 
himself,  by  selecting  a  natimd  h|«tn  noarto,  or  krther  6<qmi,  the  fBOU^ 
iDhng.*  M  thUMs  or  fturfailes  below  tha  aprogtc^  Wtimh  lefiiii^^' 
{iiflteiili^ta  drink.  ....  *    ^ 

V 


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AMBRICAK   STATE   FAPKES.  iV 

.  Vroiti  Uie  western  mountain,  estimated  to  be  of  equal  height  with  that 
from  which  tlie  hot  springs  flow,  tJiere  are  several  fine  prospects.  Th^ 
Valley  of  the  VVkshita,  comprehended  between  the  hills  on  either  side  seem- 
ed to  be  a  perfect  fiat,  and  about  twelve  miles  wide.  On  all  hjuids  were 
«een  tlie  hUls,  or  mount;uns,  as  they  are  here  called,  rising  behind  each 
other.  In  the  direction  of  north,  the  most  distant  were  estimated  to  be  fif- 
ty miles  off,  and  are  sup|K)sed  to  be  those  of  the  Arkansa  river,  or  the  nig- 
led  mountains  wliich  divide  tlie  wj'ters  of  the  Arknnsa  from  tliose  of  the  ' 
Washita,  and  prevent  tlie  Osag*e  Indians  from  visiting  the  latter,  of  whom 
tliey  are  supposed  ignorant,  otlierwise  their  excursions  here  would  prevent 
this  place  from  being  visited  by  white  persons,  or  otlier  Indians.  In  a  . 
spuUi  west  direction,  at  about  forty  miles  distance,  is  seen  a  perfectly  level 
ridg«,  supposed  to  be  tlie  high  prairies  of  the  Red  river. 

Notwitiistanding  the  8e\ciity  of  llie   wcatlier,  a  considerable  number,  and 
some  vai-iety  of  plants  were  in  fiower,  and  others   retained  their  verdure  : 
indeed  the  ridge  was  more  tcmpei-atc   than  tlic  valley  below  ;  there  it  was 
cold,  damp,  and  peneti'ating  ;    here  dry,  and  tlie  atmosphere  mild.     Of  the 
plants  growing  here  was  a  species  of  cabbage  :  the  plants  grow  with  expand- 
cjd  leaves  spreading  on  tlie  ground,  of  a  deep  green,  witli  a  shade  of  purjile  : 
the  taste  of  tlie  cabbage  was  plainly  predominant, witli  an  agreeable  wannth,  • 
inclining  to  tliatof  the  radish  ;    several  tap-roots  penetrated  into  tlie  soil,  of 
a  white  colour,  having  the  taste  of  horse-radish,  but  much  milder.     A  quan- ' 
tity  of  them  taken  to  the  camp  and  dressed,  proved  palatable  s^d  mild.     It 
is  not  probable  that  cabbage  seed  has  been  scattered  on  this  ridge  ;  the  hun- 
ters ascending  this  river   have  always  had  different  objects.     Until  further 
elucidation,  this  cabbage  must  be  considered  as  indigenous  to  this  sequester- 
ed quarter,  and  may  be  denominated  the  cabbage   radish  of  the   Washita. 
They  foimd  a  plant,  then  green,  called  by  the   French  "  racine  rouge,"  (red 
root),which  is  said  to  be  a  specifick  in  fem:ile  obstructions  ;  it  has  also  been 
used,  combined  witli  tlie  China  root,  to  dye  red,  the  last  probably  acting  as 
a  mordant.     The  top  of  this  ridg^  is  covered  with  rocks  of  a  flinty  kind, . 
Vid  so  very  hard  as  to  be  improper  for  gtm-flints,  for  when  applied  to  that 
use  it  soon  digs  cavities  in  the  hammer  of  the  lock.     This  hard  stone  is  ge-  ^ 
nerally  white,  but  frequently  clouded  witli  red,  brown,  black,  and  otlier  ro-  ^ 
lours.     Here  and  there  fragments  of  iron  stone  were  met  with,   and  where  ^ 
a  tree  had  been  overturned,  its  roots  brought  to  view  fragments  of  schistus,  - 
which  were  suffering  decomposition  froip  exposure  to  tlie  atnnosphere.     Onl 
digging  where  the   slope  of  the  hill  was  precipitous,  tliey  found  the  second^ 
stratum  to  be  a  reddish  clay,  resembling  that  found  on  the  conicak  hill,  east 
of  the  camp.     At  two-thirds  do\\Ti  the  hill,  the  rock  was  a  hard  freestone, ' 
intermixed  with  fragments  of  flint,  which  had  probably  rolled  fi*om  alwve.. 
Still  lower  was  found  a  blue  schistus,  in  a  state   tending  to  decomposition^ 
where  exposed  to  tlie  atmosphere,  but  hard  and  resembling  coai^e  slate  in 
tlie  interiour.     Many  stones-had  the  appearance  of .I'urkey  oil  stones  :  at  tlie 
foot  of  the  hill  it  expands  into  good  fai*ming  lands. 

Dr.  Hunter,  upon  examining  the  waters  of  tlie  hot  springs,  obtained  tht 
following  results  : 

It  differed  notlii ng  from  tlie  hot  water  in  smell  or  taste,  but  caused  % 
iliglit  eructation  shortly  af\er  drinking  it. 

Its  specifick  gravity  is  equal  to  rain  or  distilled  water. 

It  gave  to  litamus  paper,  a  slight  degree  of  redness,  evincing  the  presence  ^ 
•f  the  carbonick  acid,  or  lixed  air  sulphurick,  and  threw  down  a  few  detached 
particles.  Oxylat  of  ammoniack  caused  a  deposition  and  white  cloud,  shew^ 
ing  the  presence  of  a  small  portion  of  lime.  Prusiat  of  potash  produced  a 
slight  and  scarcely  p<^rceptible  tuige  of  blue,  desigTiatinj^-  the  presence  of  % 
small  quantity  of  iron. 

Vol  III.  Appendix.  L 


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82  AMERICAN   STATE   PAFEHS. 

Sixteen  pounds  of  water,  evaporated  to  dr>*n€ss,  left  tcrt  grains  of  a  gtef 
powder,  wlilch  proved  to  be  Hme. 

The  myrtle  wax  tree  grows  in  the  vicinity  of  the  springs.  At  the  scasnn 
in  which  the  voyagers  were  tliere,  the  wax  was  no  longer  green,  but  had 
chanevcd  its  colour  to  a  grey ish* white,  from  its  long  exposure  to  the  weather. 
The  berry,  when  examined  by  the  microscope,  is  less  tlian  the  smallest  gar- 
den pea,  approaching  to  an  oval  m  form.  The  nuclus,  or  real  seed,  is  tlie 
size  of  tJie  seed  of  a  radish,  ui\d  is  covered  with  a  number  of  kidney  shaptd 
glands,  of  a  brown  colour  and  sweet  taste  ;  these  glands  secrete  the  \rax 
which  com])letely  envelopes  them,  and,  at  this  season,  gives  to  the  whole 
the.  appeirance  of  an  imperfectly  white  bcrr>\  Tliis  is  a  valuable  plant  and 
merits  attention  :  its  Xavouinte  p<>sition  is  a  dry  soil,  rather  poor,  and  looking 
down  upon  the  water.  It  is  well  ailapted  to  ornament  the  margins  of  canals, 
lakes,  or  rivulets.  The  cassiiia  yapon  is  equally  beautiful,  :ind  proper  for 
tlie  siune  purpose  :  it  crows  here  along  tlie  banks  of  tliis  stony  creek,  inter- 
mingled with  tJie  mvrUe,  and  bears  a  beautiful  little  red  berry,  verj'  much 
resembling  the  red  currant. 

The  rock,  throng) i  which  the  hot  springs  citlier  pass  or  trickle  over,  ap- 
pears  undermined  by  Uie  waters  of  the  creek.     The  hot  water  is  continually 
depositing  c:dcareous,  and,  perhaps,  some  silicious  matter,  forming  new  rocks, 
always  augmenting  and  projecting  their  promontories  over  the  running  \ni- 
ter  of  tiie  creek,  wliich  prevents   its  formation   below  the  surface.     Wher- 
ever this  calcareous  crust  is  seen  spreading  over  the  bank  and  margin  of  the 
creek,  there,  most  certainly,  tlie  hot  water  will   be  found,  either  running 
over  the  surface,  or  through  some  channel,  perhaps  below  the  new  r  >ck,  or 
dripping  from  th«  edges  of  the  overhanging  precipice.     The  progress  of 
nature  in  the  formation  of  this  new  rock  is  curious  and  worthy  the  attention 
of  the  mineralogist.     When  tljc  hot  water  issues  from  the  fountain,  it  frt'- 
quently  spreads  over  a  superficies  of  some  extent  ;    so  far  as  it  reaches,  oi 
either  hand,  tJiere  is  a  deposition  of,  or  growth  of  green   matter.     Several 
lamina  of  this  green  matter  will  be  foui.'d  l)  ing  o^  er  each  other,  and  imme- 
diately imder,  and  in  contact  with  the  inferiour  lamina,  which  is  not  thicker 
than  paper,  is  found   a   whitish   substance   resembling  a  coagidum  ;    whei> 
viewed  with  a  microscope,  this  last  is  also  found  to  consist  of  several,  some- 
times a  good  number  of  lamina,  of  which  that  next  the  green  is  the  finest 
and  tliinnest,  being  tlie  Ixst  formed;    those  below  increasing  in  thitknesj 
and  tenacity,  until  the  last  terminates  in  a  soft  enrthy   matter,  which  ri  p<>sei» 
in  the  more  solid  rock.     E:ich  lamina  of  the  coagulum   is  penetrated  in  J«'l 
its  parts  by  calcareous  grains,  extremely  minute,  and  divided  in  the  more  re- 
cent web,  but  much  larger  and  occupying  the  whole  of  the  inferiour  lamina^ 
The  understratum  is  continually  consolidating,    and  adding  bulk  and  W'\^^\^ 
to  the  rock.     W^hen  this  acquires  such  an  elevation  as  to  stop  tlic  passa^  m 
tlie  water,  it  finds  anotlier  course  over  the  rock,  hill,  or  mavjiinof  the  crev"K, 
forming  in  turn,  accumulations  of  matter  over  tlie   whole  of   tlie  ndJAccnt 
space.     When  the  water  has  found  itself  anew  channel,  the   green  matter, 
which  sometimes  acquires  a  thickness  of  half  an  inch,  is  speedily  conycrtt  d 
into  a  rich  vegetable  earth,  and  beconjes  the  f<xul  of  plants.     The  surface  of 
the  calcareous  rock  also  decomposes  am!  forms  tlie  richest  bluck  mould  ulti- 
mately mixed  with  a  considerable  portion  of  soil  ;  plants  and  trees  ve^tatc 
luxuriantly  upon  it. 

On  examining  a  piece  of  ground,  upon  which  the  snow  dissolved  a-^  '^  "^^ 
and  which  was  covered  with  herbage,  they  foniul,  in  some  pl:ie«-s,  a  calcire- 
OILS  crust  on  the  sui*face  ;  but  in  general  a  dcptii  of  rr(»m  five  inches  to  a  ^>  >t 
of  the  richest  black  mould.  The  surface  was  s<-nKlhly  wui-m  to  the  lourh. 
tn  the  air  the  mercnr\'  in  the  thermometer  .stood  nt  44°  ;  wlscn  placed  '<^^>r 
inches  under  tlie  surface,  and  covered  with  earth,  it  rose  rapidly  to  6t  ; 


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AMKBI«AN   STATE   PAPBR8.  83 

jmd  upon  the  calcareous  rock,  eig^t  inches  beneath  the  surface,  it  rose  to  80^. 
This  result  was  uniform  over  tlie  nirhole  surface,  which  was  about  a 
quarter  of  an  acre. 

On  searching  tliey  found  a  spring",  about  fifteen   inches  under  tJie  surface, 
in  the  water  of  which  the  thermometer  shewed    a  temperature    of  130^. 
Beneath  the   black  mould  was  found  a  brown  mixture  of  lime  and  silex, 
very  loose  and  divisible,  apparently  in  a  state  of  decomposition,  andprog^ess- 
iug"  towards  the  formation  of  black,  mould  j  under  this  brownish  mass  it  be- 
came gradually  whiter  and  harder,  to  llie  deptliof  from  six  to  twelve  inches, 
-where  it  was  a  calcareous  sparkling  stone.     It  was  evident  that  tlie  water 
had  passed  over  this  place,  and  formed  a  flat  superficies  of  silicious  lime 
stone  ;  and  that  its  position,  neai'ly  level,  had  faciliated  the  accumulation  of 
earth,  in  proportion  as  the  decomposition  advanced.     Similar  spots  of  ground 
were  found  higher  up  the  hill,  resembhng  little   savannas,  near  which  hot 
springs  were  always  discovered,  which  had  once  tlowed  over  tliem.     It  ap- 
pears probable  that  tlie  hot  water  of  the  springs,  at  an  early  period,  had  all 
issued  from  its  grand  reservoir  in  the  hill,  at  a  much   greater  elevation  than 
at  present.     The  calcareous  crust  may  be  traced  up,  in   most  situations  on 
the  west  side  of  tlie  hill  looking  down  the   creek  and  valley,   to  a  certain 
height,  perhaps  one  hundred  feet  perpendicular ;  in  this  region  the  hill  risep 
precipitously,  and  is  studded  with  hard  silicious  stones  ;    below  tl\e  descent 
IS  more  gradual,  and  tlie  soil  a  calcareous  black  earth.     It  is  easy  to  discri- 
minate the  primitive  hill,from  that  which  has  accumulated,  by  precipitation, 
from  the  water  of  the  springs  ;  this  last  is  entirely  confined  to  the  west  side 
of  the  hill,  and  washed  at  its  base  by  tlie  waters  of  the  creek,  no  hot  spring 
being  visible  in  any  other  part  of  its  -circumference.    By  actual  measure- 
ment along  the  base  of  the  liill  the  influence  of  the   springs  is  found  to  ex- 
tend seventy  perches,  in  a  direction  a  litde  to  tlie  east  of  Jiortli  :    a'.ong  tlie 
whole  of  this  space  the  spring?  have  deposited  stony  matter,  calcai'eous, 
with  an  addition  of  silex,  or  crystalized  lime.     The  accumidation  of  calca- 
reous matter  is  more  considerable  at  the  north  end  of  the  hill  than  the  south  ; 
the  first  may  be  above  a  hundred  feet  perpendicular,  but  sloping  much  more 
^adually  that  the  primitive  hill  above,  until  it  approaches  the  creek,  where 
not  unfrequently  it  terminates  in  a  precipice  of  fmm  six  to  twenty  feet. 
The  difference  between  the  primitive  and  secondary  hill  is  so  striking,  that 
a  superficial  observer  roust  notice  it  ;  the  fii-st  is  regularly  very  steep,  and 
studded  with  rock  and  .stone  of  the  hardest  flint  and  other  silicious  com- 
pounds, and  a  superficies  of  two  or  tliree  inches  of  good  mould  covers  a  red 
clay  ;  below,  on  the  secondary-  hill,  which  carries  evident  marks  of  recent 
formation,  no  flint,  or  silicious  stone,  is  found  ;  tlie  caleajeous rock  conceals 
all  from  view,  and  is,  itself,  frequently  covered   by   much  fine  rich  eurtlx. 
It  would  seem  thut  this  compound,  precipitated  from  the  hot  waters,  yields 
easily  to  the  influence  of  the  atmosphere  ;    for   wljcre   the  waters  cease  to 
flow  over  any  portion  of  tlie  rock,  it  speedily  decomjwses  ;    probably  more 
rapidly  from  the  heal  communicated  fipm  the  interiour  of  the  liill,as  insulat- 
ed masses  of  die  rock  are  observed  to  remain  wltJiout  change. 

The  cedar,  tlie  wax  myrtle,  and  the  cassina  yapon,  all  evergreens,  attach 
themselves  particularly  to  the  calcareous  region,  and  seem  to  gi*ow  and  thrive 
even  in  the  clefts  of  tlie  solid  rock.    ^ 

A  spring,  enjo}nng  a  freedom  of  position,  proceeds  with  great  regularity 
in  depositing  tlie  matter  it  holds  in  solution  ;  the  border  or  rim  of  its  basin 
forms  an  elevated  ridge,  from  wlience  proceeds  a  glacis  all  around,  where 
the  waters  have  flowed  for  some  time  over  one  part  of  tlie  bi-im  ;  this  be- 
comes more  elevated,  and  the  water  has  to  seek  a  passage  where  tlicre  is 
leis  resistance  ;  tii us  forming,  in  mini:i.turc,  a  crater,  rescn»h)ing  in  shape 
t^e  coiHC  J  sumiiilt  of  a  volcano.     The  hiU  bein^f  steep  :.bove  tiie  progrcajj 


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64  AHEEICAX  STATE   PAPKRt. 

of  petrifaction  is  stopped  on  that  side,  and  the  waters  continue  to  flow  u4 
spread  abroad,  incrusting  the  whole  face  of  the  hill  below.  The  last  form, 
ed  calcareous  border  of  the  circular  basin  is  soft,  and  easily  divided  ;  at  t 
small  deptli  it  is  more  compact  ;  and  at  a  deptli  of  six  inches  it  is  generally 
hai'd  white  stone.  If  tJie  bottom  of  the  basin  is  stirrt;dup,  a  quantity  of  tlit 
red  calx  of  iron  rises,  and  escapes  over  tlie  summit  of  thecrater. 

Visitiuits  to  the  hot  springs,  having  observed  shrubs  and  trtes  witli  their 
roots  in  tlie  hot  water,  huvc  been  induced  to  tr>-  experiments,  by  sticking 
branches  of  trees  in  tJie  run  of  hot  water.  Some  branches  of  the  wax 
m}Ttlc  wei*e  fovmd  tlirust  into  the  bottom  of  a  spring  run,  the  water  of 
whicli  was  loCP.  by  Fahrenhtit's  tLennometer  ;  the  foliage  and  fruit  of  the 
branch  were  not  only  sound  and  healthy,  liut  at  tlie  surface  of  the  water  roots 
were  actually  sprouting  f:x>m  it  :  on  pulhng  it  up  tlie  part  which  had  pene- 
trated the  hot  nuid  w^s  found  decayed. 

The  green  substance  discoverable  at  the  bottom  of  the  hot  springs,  and 
•which  at  first  sight  has  tiie  j.ppeanince  of  plush,  on  examination  b>  the  mi- 
croscope, w;is  found  to  be  a  vegetable  production.  A  film  of  green  matter 
spreads  itself  on  tlic  calcareous  bi.se,  from  which  rise  fibres  more  than 
half  an  inch  in  length,  forming  a  beautifid  vegetation.  Before  the  micro- 
scope it  spwkled  with  innumerable  nodules  of  lime,  some  part  of  which 
was  beautifully  cr)  stalized.  This  circumstance  might  cause  a  doubt  of  itJ 
being  a  true  vcgetal>lc,  fnit  lis  great  resemblance  to  some  of  the  mosses, 
particul.aiy  the  bussi,  and  the  discovery  which  Mr.  Dunbar  made  of  its  be- 
ing the  residence  of  animal  life,  confinned  his  belief  in  its  being  atnie 
moss.  After  a  diligent  seiu-ch  he  discovered  a  very  minute  shell  fish,  of  tlm 
bivalve  kind,  inhabiting  this  moss  ;  its  shape  nearly  that  of  the  fresh  water 
muscle  ;  the  colour  of  the  shell  a  greyish  brown,  with  spots  of  a  purplish 
colour.  When  the  animal  is  undisturbed  it  opens  the  shell,  and  thrusts  out 
four  legs,  very  transparent,  and  articulated  like  those  of  a  quadruped ;  the 
extremities  of  the  fore  leg^  are  very  slender  and  sharp,  but  those  of  the 
liind  legs  somewhat  broader,  appt.rently  armed  with  minute  toes  :  from  tlic 
extremity  of  each  shell  issues  three  of  four  forked  hairs,  which  the  animal 
seems  to  possess  tlie  power  of  moving  ;  tlie  fore  legs  are  probably  formed 
for  making  incisions  into  the  moss  for  tlic  ])ur|X)se  of  prociu'ing  access  to 
the  juices  of  tlie  living  plant,  upon  which,  no  doubt,  it  feeds  :  it  may  be  pro- 
vided with  a  prolwscis,  altliough  it  did  not  appear  wkile  tlie  animal  was  un- 
der examination  :  the  hind  legs  are  well  adapted  for  propelling  it  In  ita  pro- 
gress over  the  mo..s,  or  thi*ough  the  water. 

It  would  be  desirable  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  that  perpetual  fire,  which 
keeps  up  tlie  high  temperature  of  so  many  springs,  as  flow  fh)m  this  hill,  at 
s  considerable  distance  from  each  other  :  upon  looking  aroimd,  however, 
sufficient  data  for  the  solution  of  tlie  difficulty  is  not  discoverable.  Nothing 
of  a  volcanick  nature  is  to  be  seen  in  this  countiy  ;  neither  could  they  leani 
that  any  evidence  in  favour  of  sucli  a  supposition  Wiis  to  be  found  in  the 
mountains  connected  with  this  river.  An  immense  bed  of  dark  blue  schis- 
tus  appears  to  form  the  base  of  tlie  hot  spring  hill,  and  of  all  those  in  its 
neighbourho<xl  :  the  bottom  of  the  creek  is  ff)rmed  of  it ;  and  pieces  are  fre- 
quently met  with  rendered  sofl  by  decomjiosition,  and  possessing  a  strong 
Jilumnious  taste,  requiring  nothing  but  lixiviation  and  crystalization  to  com- 
plete the  manufacture  of  alum.  As  bodies  undergoing  chemical  changes 
generally  produced  an  alteration  of  temperature,  the  heat  of  these  springs 
may  be  owing  to  the  disengagement  of  calorick,  or  the  decomposition  of  the 
sclustus  :  another  and  perhaps  a  more  satisfactory  cause  may  be  assigned : 
it  is  well  known,  that  witliin  tlic  circle  of  the  waters  of  tliis  river  vast  be^ 
of  mailial  pyrites  exist ;  they  have  not  yet,  however,  been  discovered  m 
the  vicinage  of  the  hot  springs,  but  may,  no^ertheless,  form  immense  bedi 


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▲IfERICAV   STATE   PA?£R1.  85 

«nder  the  bases  of  these  hills  ;  and  as  in  one  place  at  least,  there  is  evidence 
©f  the  presence  of  bitumen,*  the  union  of  these  agents  will  in  the  progress 
of  decomposition,  by  the  admission  of  air  and  moisture,  produce  degrees  of 
heat  capable  of  supporting  the  phenomena  of  the  hot  spiings.  No  sulphu- 
rick  acid  is  present  in  this  water  ;  the  springs  may  be  supplied  by  the  vapour 
of  heated  water,  ascending  from  caverns  where  tlie  heat  is  generated,  or 
the  heat  may  be  immediately  applied  to  the  bottom  of  an  immense  natural 
caldron  of  rock,  contained  in  the  bowels  of  the  hill,  from  which  as  a  reser- 
voir the  springs  may  be  supplied. 

A  series  of  accurate  observations  determined  the  latitude  of  the  hot 
springs  to  be  34^  31'  4/',  16  N.  and  long  6h.  11'  25",  or  92°  50'  45"  west 
from  the  meridian  of  Greenwich. 

While  Mr.  Dunbar  was  making  arrangements  for  transporting  the  bag- 
gage back  to  the  river  camp,  doctor  Hunter,  with  a  small  party,  \yent  on  an 
excursion  into  the  country.  He  left  the  hot  springs  on  tlie  morning  of  the 
27th,  and  after  travelling  sometimes  over  hills  and  steep  craggy  mountains 
witli  nan"Ow  valleys  between  them,  then  up  the  valleys  and  generally  by  the 
»ide  of  a  branch  emptying  into  the  Washita,  they  readied  tlie  main  branch 
of  the  Calfat  in  tha  evening,  about  twelve  miles  from  the  springs.  The 
stones  they  met  with  during  the  first  part  of  the  day  were  silicious,  of  a 
whitish-grey,  with  flints  white,  cream-coloured,  red,  &c.  The  beds  of  the 
rivulets,  and  often  a  considerable  way  up  the  hills,  shewed  immense  bodies 
of  schistus,  both  blue  and  grey,  some  of  it  efflorescing  and  tasting  strongly 
of  alum.  The  latter  part  of  the  day,  they  travelled  over  and  between  hills 
of  black,  hard,  and  compact  flint  in  shapeless  masses,  with  schist  as  before. 
On  ascending  these  high  grounds  you  distinctly  perceive  the  commence- 
ment of  the  piney  region,  beginning  at  the  height  of  sixty  or  seventy  feet 
and  extending  to  the  top.  The  soil  in  these  narrow  valleys  is  tliin  and  ftill 
of  stones.  The  next  day,  which  was  stormy,  they  reached  a  branch  of  the 
bayau  de  saline,  which  stretches  towards  the  Arkansa,  and  empties  into  tlie 
Washita  many  leagues  below,  having  gone  about  twelve  miles.  The  moun- 
tains they  had  passed  being  of  the  primitive  kind,  which  seldom  produce 
metals,  and  having  hitherto  seen  nothing  of  a  mineral  kind,  a  little  poor 
iron  ore  excepted,  and  the  face  of  the  country,  as  far  as  tliey  could  see,  pre- 
senting the  same  aspect ;  they  returned  to  the  camp,  at  the  hot  springs,  on 
the  evening  of  the  tliirtieth,  by  another  route,  in  which  they  met  with  no- 
thing worthy  notice. 

In  consequence  of  the  rains  which  had  fallen,  Mr.  Dunbar,  nnd  those 
who  were  transporting  tlie  bag^g^  to  the  river  camp,  found  the  road 
watry.  The  soil  on  the  flat  lands  under  the  stratum  of  vegetable  mould  is 
yellowish,  and  consists  of  decomposed  schistus,  of  which  tliere  pre  immense 
beds  in  every  stage  of  dissolution,  from  the  hartl  stone  recently  uncovered 
and  partially  decomposed  to  tlie  yellow  and  apparently  homogeneous  eai-th. 
The  covering  of  vegetable  earth  between  the  hills  and  the  river  is,  in  most 
places,  sufficiently  thick  to  constitute  a  good  soil,  being  from  four  to  six 
inclies  ;  and  it  is  the  opinion  of  tlie  people  upon  the  Washita,  that  wheat 
will  grow  here  to  great  pei-fcction.  Although  the  higher  hills,  three  hund- 
red to  six  hundred  feet  in  height,  are  very  i-ocky,  yet  the  infiriour  hills, 
and  the  sloping  bases  of  the  first,  are  generally  covered  witli  a  soil  of  a 
middling  quality.  The  natural  productions  are  sufficiently  luxuriant,  con- 
sisting chiefly  of  black  and  red  oak,  intermixed  with  a  variety  of  otlier  woods, 
and  a  considerable  undergrowth.     Even  on  tliese  rocky  hills  are  three  or 

♦  Having  thrmf  a  stick  down  Into  the  crater  of  one  of  the  springs,  at  Home  dlstancf  «p  the 
Mil,  scNcral  dm; ..  of  fctroleuin,  or  n^ptha,  rose  aod  spread  upon  the  surface  :  it  cca  cd  to  rke 
after  three  or  four  atteropu. 


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•  €  AJfS&ICAV  STATS   PAFK&S. 

^ur  species  of  rincs,  said  to  produce  annually  an  abundance  of  excettem 
grapes.  A  great  variety  of  plant*  which  grow  here,  some  of  which  in 
their  season  are  said  to  produce  flowers  highly  ornamental,  would  probiW/ 
reward  tlie  rcscaiches  of  tlie  botanist. 

On  the  morning  of  the  8iU  of  January,  1805,  the  party  left  Ellis's  on  thf 
river  camp,  whei  f  they  had  been  detained  for  several  days  waiting  for  such 
a  rise  in  the  waters  oi'  the  nver,  as  would  cairy  their  boat  in  safety  over  the 
numerous  rapids  below.  A  rise  of  about  six  feet,  whicli  b&d  taken  pbce 
the  evening  beft>re,  deteriuinedthem  to  move  this  morning  i  andtliey  passed 
the  chuttes  about  one  o'clock.  They  stopped  to  examine  tlie  rocky  promon- 
tary  below  tliese  fidls,  ai^d  took  some  specimens  of  the  stone  which  so  much 
resembles  tlie  Turkey  od  stone.  It  appears  too  liard.  The  strata  of  thi# 
fdiain  were  observed  to  nm  perpendicularly  nearly  east  and  west,  crossed  by 
fissures  at  right  angles  from  fi\  e  to  eight  feet  apart  ;  the  lamina  from  one 
fourth  of  an  inch  to  five  inches  in  thickness.  About  a  league  below,  they 
landed  at  Whetstone  hill  and  took  several  specimens.  This  projecting  hill 
is  a  mass  of  greyish  blue  schist  us  of  considerable  hai-dness,  and  about  t  wen- 
ty  feet  pei-pendicular,  not  rcgidarly  so,  and  from  a  quaitpr  to  two  inches  m 
Uiickness,  but  does  not  split  with  an  even  sm-lacc. 

They  landed  agidn  on  the  morning  of  tlie  9th,  in  sight  of  the  bayaudc  U 
prairie  de  chami)ignole,  to  examine  and  take  specimens  of  some  Irte  stone 
and  blue  slate.  The  slate  is  a  blue  schistus,  luud,  brittle,  and  until  for  the 
covering  of  a  house  ;  none  proper  for  that  purpose  Lave  been  discovered, 
except  on  tlie  Cdfat,  which  Br.  Hunter  met  with  in  one  of  his  excursions. 

On  the  evening  of  tlie  lOtli  tiiey  encamped  near  Arclon's  Troughs,  hxT. 
ing  been  only  three  days  in  descending  the  distance  which  took  them  thir- 
teen to  ascend.  They  stopped  some  time  at  tlie  camp  of  a  Mr.  Le  Yevn. 
He  is  an  intelligent  man,  a  native  of  the  Illinois,  but  now  residing  at  the 
Arkansas.  He  came  hci*e  with  some  Delaware  andotlier  Indians,  whom  he 
had  fitted  out  with  goods,  and  receives  their  peltr}',  fiu*,  Sec.  jtt  a  stipulated 
price,  as  it  is  brought  in  by  the  hunters.  Mr.  Le  Fe%Tc  possesses  consider- 
able knowledge  of  theinteriour  of  tlie  coiuiti-y  ;  he  confirms  the  account  be- 
fore obtained,  that  tlie  hills  or  mountains  which  give  rise  to  this  httle  nver 
are  in  a  manner  insulated ;  that  is,  they  arc  entirely  shut  in  and  inclosed  by 
the  immense  plains  or  prairies  wliich  extend  beyond  tlie  Red  river,  to  the 
south,  and  beyond  the  Missouri,  or  at  least  some  of  its  branches,  to  die  north, 
and  range  along  the  eastern  base  of  tlie  great  chain,  or  dividing  ridge,  aim- 
monly  known  by  the  name  of  the  sand  hills,  wliich  separate  Uie  waters  of 
the  Mississippi  fi*om  tliose  which  fall  into  tlie  Pacifick  ocean.  The  breadth 
of  this  great  plain  is  not  well  ascertiiined.  It  is  said  by  some  to  be  at  cer- 
tain parts,  or  in  certain  directions,  not  less  than  two  hmidi'cd  leagues  ;  but 
it  is  agreed  by  all  who  have  a  knowledge  of  tlic  western  country,  tliat  the 
mean  breadth'  is  at  least  two  thirds  of  that  distaiAce.  A  branch  of  the  Mis- 
souri called  the  river  Platte,  or  Shallow  river,  is  said  to  take  its  rise  so  far 
south  as  to  derive  its  first  waters  from  the  neighbourhood  of  tlie  sources  oi 
the  Red  and  Arkansa  rivers.  By  tlie  expression  plains  or  prairies,  in  tins 
place,  is  not  to  hv  understood  a  dead  flat,  resembling"  certain  savannas, 
wliose  soil  is  stiflT  and  impenetrable,  often  under  water,  and  besring 
only  a  coarse  grass  resembling  reeds  ;  very  different  are  ^^^.^f^' 
em  prairies,  which  expressian  signifies  only  a  country  without  tiro  r* 
These  prairies  are  neitlier  flat  nor  hilly,  but  undulating  into  genUy  swelbi^ 
lawns  and  expanding  into  spacious  vaUics,  in  tlie  centre  of  which  is  alwa) 
foiuid  a  little  timber  j;Towing  on  the  banks  of  the  brooks  ajid  rivulets  ot  we 
finest  waters.  The  whole  of  these  prairies  are  represented  to  be  comp<»^ 
of  tlie  richest  ami  most  fertile  soil ;  tlie  most  luxuriant  and  sticculent  ne  • 
bage  covers  the  surface  of  the  eai-tli,  mtcrspersed  with  niiilions  ot  flowei? 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


AMERICAN  STATE   PAPEHl.  8/ 

and  flowerinjf  slinibs,  of  the  most  ornamental  kit^s.  Those  irho  have 
viewed  only  a  skill  of  Uiese  prairies,  speak,  of  them  with  enthusiasm,  as  if 
it  was  only  tliere  that  nature  was  to  be  found  truly  perfect ;  they  declare, 
that  the  fertility  and  beauty  of  the  rising  grounds,  tlie  extreme  richness  of 
the  vales,  tlie  coolness  and  excellent  quahty  of  the  water  found  m  e^-ery  v:mey, 
the  salubrity  of  the  atmosphere,- and  above  all  the  grandeur  of  the  enchant- 
in,^  landscape  wluch  this  country  presents,  inspire  tlie  sold  with  sensations 
not  to  l>e  felt  in  any  other  region  of  the  globe.  This  pai*adise  is  now  very 
thinly  inhabited  by  a  few  tribes  of  savages,  and  by  the  immense  herds  of 
wild  cattle,  (bison)  which  people  these  countries.  The  cattle  perform  re- 
gular mij^-ations  acconling  to  the  seasons,  fi-om  south  to  norUi,/and  from  th« 
plains  to  tlu- mountains  :  and  in  due  time,  taught  by  their  instincts,  take  ^ 
rctrogade  direction.  These  tribes  move  in  tlie  rear  of  tlie  herds,  and  pickup 
ulrag-glcis,  and  such  as  hig  behind,  which  they  kill  with  the  buwand  arrow, 
for  their  subsistence.  This  country  is  not  subjected  to  those  sudden  deluges 
of  rain  which  in  most  hot  countries,  and  even  in  the  Mississippi  territory,  tear 
up  and  sweep  away  with  irresistable  fury,  the  crop  and  soil  togetlier :  on  tlie 
contrary,  rain  is  said  to  become  more  rare  in  projiortion  as  the  great  chain 
of  mountain  is  approached ;  and  it  would  seem  tliat  within  the  sphere  of  the 
atti'action  of  those  elevated  ridges,  little  or  no  rain  falls  on  the  adjoininj^ 
plains.  This  relation  is  the  more  credible,  a«  in  that  respect  our  new  coun- 
try may  resemble  otlier  flat  or  comparatively  low  countries,  similarly  situate 
ed  ;  such  as  tlie  countrj'  l\ing  between  the  Andes  antl  the  western  Pacifick  ; 
tlie  plains  are  supplied  with  nightlvdews  so  extremely  abundant,  as  to  have 
the  effect  of  refreshing  showers  of  rain  ;  and  the  spacious  vallies,  which 
are  extremely  level,  may  with  facility  be  watered  by  the  rills  and  brooks 
which  are  never  absent  from  these  situations.  Such  is  the  description  of 
the  better  known  country  lying  to  the  south  of  Red  river,  from  Nacogdoches 
towards  St.  Antonio,  in  tlie  pnnince  of  Taxu*  :  the  richest  crops  are  said  to 
be  pn)curcd  tlicre  without  rain  ;  but  agriculture  in  that  quarter  is  at  a  low- 
ebb  :  tlie  small  quantities  of  maize  furnished  by  the  comitrj',  is  said  to  he 
raised  witlumt  cultivation.  A  rude  opening  is  made  in  the  ciirth,  sufficient 
to  deposit  the  grain,  at  the  distance  of  four  or  five  feet,  in  irregiUai*  squares, 
and  tlie  rest  is  left  t/)  nature.  The  soil  is  tender,  spongy  and  rich,  and  seems 
always  to  retain  humidity  sufficient,  with  the  bounteous  dews  of  Heaven,  to 
bring  the  crops  to  maturity. 

The  Red  and  Arcansa  rivers,  whose  courses  nre  very  long,  pass  through 
portions  of  tliis  fine  country.  They  arc  botli  navigrible  to  an  unknown  dis- 
tance by  boats  of  proper  construction  ;  tlie  Arcansa  river  is,  however,  un- 
derstood to  have  gjcatly  the  advantage  with  respect  to  tlie  flicility  of  navi- 
gation. Some  difficult  places  are  met  with  in  the  Red  river  below  the  Na- 
kitosh,  after  which  it  is  good  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  leagues  (probable 
computed  leagues  sf  the  country,  about  two  miles  carh)  ;  there  tlic  voyager 
meets  with  a  veiy  serious  obstacle,  the  commencement  of  the  "  raft,'*'  as  it 
is  called  ;  that  is,  a  natin^  covering  whicli  conceals  the  wliolc  river  for  an 
extent  of  seventeen  leagues,  continually  augmenting  by  the  driftwood 
brought  down  by  every  considerable  fresh.  This  covering,  which,  for  ft 
considerable  time,  was  onfy  drift-wood,  now  supports  a  vegetation  of  every 
thing  abounding  in  tlie  neighbouring  forest,  not  exccptingtreesof  a  consider- 
able size  ;  and  tlie  river  may  be  frequently  pftssed  witliout  any  knowledge 
of  its  existence.  It  is  said  that  the  annual  inund.^tion  is  opening  for  itself  « 
new  passage  tlirougli  the  low  grounds  near  the  hills  ;  but  it  must  be  Icmg 
before  nature,  unaided,  will  excavate  a  paasng^  sufficient  for  the  waters  df 
Red  river.  About  fifty  leagues  alxive  this  natural  bridge,  is  the  residence 
of  the  Cadeaux  or  Cadadoquies  nation,  whose  good  qualities  are  already 
mtntioncd.    The  inhabitants  estimate  the  post  of  Nakitosh  to  be  h&If  wa^ 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


tft  AMERICAK  STATE   PAFE&t. 

between  New  Orleans  and  the  Cadeaux  nation.     Above  this  point  the  narl. 
gation  of  Red  river  is  said  to  be  embarrassed  by  many  rapids,  falls,  and  slial- 
lowd.     The   Arcansa  river  is  said  to  present  a  safe,  agreeable,  and  uninter- 
rupted navigation  as  high  as  it  is  known.     The  Lands  on  each  side  are  of  the 
best  quality,  and  well  watered  with  springs,  broolts,  and  i  iruiets,aflbrdingin  • 
ny  situations   for  mill-se^ils.     From  description   it  would  seem  that  oioug 
tliis  river  there  is  a  regular  gradation  of  hill  and  diile,   presenting  their  ex- 
tremities to  the  river ;  tlie  liills  are  gently  swelling  eminences,  and  tlie  dJes, 
spacious  valUes  with  living  water  meandering  through  them  j  the  fyresu 
consist  of  handsome  trees,  chiefly  what  is  called  open  woods.    The  qualit/ 
of  tlie  land  is  supposed  superiour  to  that  on  Red  river,  until  it  ascend*  U)  the 
prairie  countrj-,  where  the  lands  on  botli  rivers  are  probably  similar.    About 
two  hundred  league  8  up  the  Arcansa  is  an  interesUng  place  called  the  Salt 
prairie  :  there  is  a  considerable  fork  of  the  river  tliere,  and  a  kind  of  savan* 
na  where  tlie  salt  water  is  continually  oozing  out  and  spreading  over  the 
Murface  of  a  plain.     During  tlie  dry  summer  season  tlie  salt  may  be  raked 
up  in  large  hexps  ;  a  natural  crust  of  a  hand  breadth  in  thickness  is  formed 
at  this  season.     This  place  is  mot  otlen  frequented,  on  accoimt  of  tlie  danger 
from  the  Osage  Indians  ;  much  less  dare  the  white   hunters  venture  to  as- 
cend higher,  where  it  is  generally  believed  that  silver  is  to  be  found.    It 
is  furtlier  said,  that  high  up  tlie  Aixansa  river  salt  is  found  in  form  of  a  so- 
lid rock,  and  may  be  dug  out  witli  the  crow-bar.     The  waters  of  the  Arcan- 
»a,  like  those  of  Red  river,  are  not  potable  during  the  dry  season,  being  botlj 
charged  liighly  with  a  reddish  earth  or  mould,  ^id  extremely  brackish. 
This  inconvenience  is  not  greatly  felt  upon  tlie  Arcaiisa,  where  springs  and 
brooks  of  fresh  water  are  frequent ;    the    Red  river  is  understpod  not  to  be 
•o  highly  favoured.     Every  account  seems  to  prove,  tliat  immense  natural 
magazines  of  salt  must  exist  in  tlie  great  chain  of  mountains  to  the  west- 
ward  ;  as  all  the  rivers  in  the  sumnier  season,    which  flow  from  tliem,  are 
•trongl^-  impregnated  with  tliat  mineral,  and  are  only  rendered  paktoble  al- 
ter receiving  tlie  numerous  streams  of  fresh  water  which  join  them  in  their 
course.     The  great  western  prairies,  besides  tlie  herds  of  wild  cattle,  (bi- 
•.m,  commonly  called  buffaloe)  are  also  stocked  jvith  vast  numher?  of  wild 
poat  (not  resembling  tJie  doinestick  goat)  extremely  swift  footed.    As  tlie 
description  given  of  this  g^at  is  not  perfect,  it  may  from  its  swiftness  prove 
to  be  the  antelope,  or  it  }X)ssibly  may  be  a  goat  which  has  escaped  from  tlie 
Spanish  settlements  of  New  Mexico.     A  Canadian,  who  had  been   much 
with  the   Indians  to  tlie  westward,  speaks  of  a  ^ool-bearing  animal,  larger 
than  a  sheep,  the  wool  much  mixed  with  hair,  which  ho  liaid  seen  in  laree 
flocks.     He  pretends  also  to  have  seen  a  unicorn,  the  single  horn  of  wliich, 
he  says,  rises  out  of  tlie  forc^f^ad  and  curls  back,  conveying  tlic  idea  of  the 
fossil  comu  ammonis.     This  man  says,  he  has  travelled  beyond  the  great  di- 
viding ridge  so  far  as  to  have  seen  a  large  river  flowing  to  the  westward 
Tlie  great  dividing  mountain  is  so  lofty  tliat  it  requires  two  d.iys  to  ascend   . 
from  the  base  to  its  top  ;  other  ranges  of  inferiour  mountains  he  before  and 
Leliind  it ;  tliey  are  all  i*ocky  and  sandy.     Large  lakes  and  vallies  lie  between 
the  mountauis.     Some  of  the  lakes  are  so  large  as  to  contain  considerable 
islands  ;  and  rivers  flow  from  some  of  them.     Great  numbers  of  fossil  bones, 
of  very  large  dimensions,  are  seen  among  the  mountains,  wliich  tlic  Cana- 
dian supposes  to  be  tlie  elephant.     He  does  not  pretend  to  ha^e  seen  *"7,j 
the  precious  metals,  but  has  seen  a  mineral  wliich  he   supposes  might  yield 
copj)er.     From  tlie  top  of  the  liigh  momitain  tlic  view  is  bounded  by  a  cur>r 
H^  upon  the  ocean,  and  extends  over  the  most  beautiful  prairies,  which  seem 
to  be  unbounded,  particularly  towards  the  east.     ThtJ  fuicst  of  tlie  hnA* 
he  has  seen  are  on  the  Missouri  ;  no  other  can  compare  in  richness  andter- 
tilitv  with  them.     This  Canadian,  as  well  as  Le  Fevre,  speak  of  tJu-  Osajfes 
•f  Uic  tribe  of  Whitehaii-s,  as  lawless  and  unprincipled:    and  tbe  utlier  In* 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


AMEmtOAil  StATE  ?APSRt.  $% 

ikan  tribes  hold  them  in  abhorrence  as  a  barbarous  and  unoivilixed  race  i 
ahd  the  different  nations  who  hunt  in  their  nei^bouThood,  have  tlicir  concert- 
ing plans  for  their  destruction.  On  the  morning  of  the  11th  the  party  pass* 
ed  the  petit  ecor  a  Fabri.  The  osier,  which  grows  on  the  beaches  above,  i# 
not  seen  below  upon  this  river  ;  and  here  they  began  to  meet  with  the  small 
tree  called  '  chanicr*  which  groins  only  on  the  water  side,  and  is  met  with 
all  the  way  down  the  Washita.  The  latitude  of  33°  4<y  seems  the  northern 
boundary  of  the  one,  and  the  southern  boundary  of  the  other  of  those  vege- 
tables. Havingnoticed  the  limit  set  to  the  long  moss,  (Telandsia)  on  the 
ascent  of  the  nver,  in  latitude  33^,  Mr.  Dunbar  made  inquiry  of  Mr.  Le  Fe-* 
ver,  as  to  its  existence  on  the  Arcansa  settlement,  which  is  known  to  lie  in 
about  the  same  parallel ;  he  said,  that  its  growth  is  limited  about  ten  milea 
■outh  of  the  settlement,  and  that  as  remarkably,  as  if  a  line  had  been  drawn 
east  and  west  for  the  purpose  ;  as  it  ceases  all  at  once,  and  not  by  degrees. 
Hence  it  appears,  that  nature  has  marked  with  a  distinguishing  feature,  tho 
line  established  by  congress,  between  the  Orleans  and  Louisiana  territories. 
The  cypress  is  not  found  on  the  Washita  hig^r  than  thirty-four  degrees  of 
north  latitude. 

In  ascending  the  river^  they  fbund  their  rate  of  going  to  exceed  that  of 
the  current  about  six  miles  and  a  half  in  twenty-four  hours  i  and  that  on  tho 
12th,  they  had  passed  the  apex  of  the  tide  or  wave,  occasioned  by  the  iresh, 
and  were  descending  along  an  inclined  plane  ;  as  they  encamped  at  night, 
they  found  themselves  in  deeper  water  the  next  morning,  and  on  a  more  ele- 
vated part  of  the  inclined  plane  than  they  had  been  in  the  preceding  even* 
Ing,  from  the  progpress  of  the  apex  of  the  tide  during  their  repose. 

At  noon,  on  the  16,  they  reached  the  post  of  the  Washita. 

Mr.  Dunbar  being  anxious  to  reach  the  Natchez  as  early  as  possible,  and 
being  unable  to  procure  horses  at  the  post,  took  a  canoe  with  one  soldier 
and  his  own  domestick,  to  push  dovm  to  the  CataliOola,  from  whence  to 
Concord  there  is  a  road  of  30  miles  across  the  low  grounds.  He  set 
•if  early  on  the  morning  of  the  20th,  and  at  night  reached  the  settlement  of 
an  old  hunter,  with  whom  he  had  conversed  on  his  way  up  the  river.  This 
man  informed  him,  that  at  the  place  called  the  mine,  on  the  Little  Missouri^ 
tliere  is  a  smoke  which  ascends  perpetually  from  a  particular  place,  and  that 
the  vapour  is  sometimes  insupportable.  The  river,  or  a  branch  of  it,  passes 
over  a  bed  of  mineral,  which,  from  the  description  given,  is,  no  doubt^  mar- 
tial pyrites.  In  a  creek,  or  branch  of  the  Fourche  a'  Luke,*  there  is  found 
on  the  beaches  and  in  the  cliffs,  a  great  number  of  globular  bodies,  some  as 
large,  or  lai^r,  than  a  man's  head,  which,  when  broken,  exhibit  the  ap-» 
pearance  ot  gold,  silver,  and  precious  stones  ;  most  probably  pyrites  and 
crystaiized  spar.  And  at  the  Fourche  des  Glaises  a'  Paul,  (liigfaer  up  the 
river  than  Fourche  a'  Luke)  near  the  river  there  is  a  clifl'  full  of  hexagonal 
prisms,  terminated  by  pyramids,  which  appear  to  grow  out  of  the  rock  t 
they  are  from  six  to  eight  inches  in  length,  and  some  of  them  are  an  inch  in 
diameter.  There  are  beds  of  pyrites  found  in  several  small  creeks  com- 
municating with  the  Washita,  but  it  appears  that  the  mineral  indications  are 
greatest  on  the  Little  Missouri^  because,  as  before  noted,  some  of  the  hun- 
ters actually  worked  on  them,  and  sent  a  parcel  of  the  ore  to  New  Orleans. 
It  is  the  belief  here,  that  the  mineral  contains  precious  metal,  but  that  ths^ 
Spanish  government  did  not  choose  a  mine  should  be  opened  so  near  to  the^ 

•Three  leagiies  above  tlUi'  cam^    . 
Vol  lU.     Appendix«  M 


Digitized  by  VjOOQ IC 


9<>  AMtRlCAir  STATS   fAPZRr. 

British  settlements.     An  express  prohibition  was  issued  against  wofkakf 
these  mines. 

At  this  place,  Mr.  Dunbar  obtained  one  or  two  slips  of  the  •*  bois  d*  arc,* 
(bow  wood)  or  yellow  wood,  from  the  Missouri.  The  fruit  which  had 
fellen  before  maturity,  lay  upon  the  ground  Some  were  of  the  size  of  a 
•mall  orange,  with  a' rind  full  of  tubercles  ;  the  colour,  though  it  appeared 
i^ied,  still  retained  a  resemblance  to  pale  gold. 

The  tree  in  its  native  soil,  when  laden  with  its  golden  fruit,  (nearly  a» 
large  as  the  eg^  of  an  ostrich),  presents  the  most  splendid  appearance  ;  its 
iuliage  is  of  a  deep  g^cn,  resembling  the  varnished  leaf  of  the  orange  tree, 
and,  upon  the  \Hiole,  no  forest  tree  can  compare  with  it  in  onuuocBtal 
ffrandeur.  The  bark  ©f  the  young  trees  resembles,  in  texture,  the  dog  wood 
tark  ;  the  appearance  of  the  wood  recommends  it  for  trial  as  an  article 
which  may  yield  a  yellow  d)e.  It  is  deciduous  ;  the  branches  are  numer- 
ous, and  full  of  short  tlioms  or  prickles,  which  seem  to  point  it  out  as  pro- 
oer  for  hedges  or  live  fences*  This  tree  is  known  to  exist  near  the  Nakitosh 
(perhaps  in  latitude  32°),  and  upon  the  river  Arcansa,  high  up  (perhaps  in 
lat  36°)  ;  it  is  therefore  probable  that  it  may  thrive  from  latitude  38*  to  ¥^ 
and  will  be  a  great  acquisltiotrto  the  United  Statea  if  it  poMess  no  o^mv 
merit  than  that  of  being  ornamental. 

In  descending  the  river,  both  Mr.  Dunbar  and  Dr.  Hunter  seardied  fer 
the  place  said  to  >'ieid  gypsimi,  or  plaister  of  Paris,  but  failed.  The  former 
gentleman  states,  that  he  has  no  doubt  of  its  existence,  having  noted  two 
places  where  it  has  been  found  ;  one  of  which  is  the  first  hill  or  high  bad 
which  touches  the  river  on  the  west,  above  the  bavau  Cakunet,  and  the 
other  is  tlie  second  high  land  on  the  same  side.  As  these  are  two  paiats  of 
^e  same  continued  ridge,  it  is  probable  that  an  ioHnense  body  of  gypsom 
will  be  found  in  the  boweb  of  the  hills  where  they  meet,  and  perhaps  ex- 
tending for  beyond  them. 

On  die  evening  of  the  23d,  Mr.  Dunbar  arrived  at  the  CatiJtoola,  where  i 
Frenchman  of  the  name  of  Hebrard,  who  keeps  the  foi  ry  across  Black  ri^r, 
is  settled.  Here  the  road  from  the  Washita  forks>  one  branch  of  it  leading  to 
%he  settlement  on  Red  river,  and  the  other  up  to  the  post  on  the  Washita. 
The  proprietor  of  this  place  has  been  a  hunter  and  a  great  traveller  up  the 
Washita  and  into  the  western  country  :  he  confirms  generally  the  accounts 
received  from  others.  It  appears  from  what  tliey  say  that  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  hot  springs,  but  higher  up,  among  tlie  mountains,  and  upon  the 
Little  Missouri,  dunng  the  summer  season,  explosions  arc  very  frequent- 
ly heard,  proceeding  from  under  the  grmmd  :  and  not  rarely  a  curious  pfe- 
BomeiKxi  IS  seen,  which  is  termed  the  blowing  of  the  mountains  ;  it  is  cm- 
fined  elastic  giks  forcing  a  passage  through  the  side  or  top  of  a  hill,  drinDg 
hefore  it  a  great  quantity  of  earth  and  mineral  matter.  During  the  winter 
season  the  explosions  and  blowing  of  the  mountains  entirely  ceasr^ 
from  whence  we  may  conclude,  that  the  cause  is  comparativeh'  superficial, 
being  brought  into  action  by  the  increased  hoa  of  the  more  mrect  rays  of 
the  summer  sun. 

The  cvnfluence  of  the  Washita,  Catahoola  and  Tenza,  is>  an  mteresting 
place.  The  last  of  diese  communicates  with  the  Mississippi  low  lands,  by 
the  intervention  of  other  creeks  and  lakes,  and  by  one  in  particular,  caOed 
•*  Bayau  d'Argent,"  which  empties  into  the  Mississippi,  about  foorteen 
miles  above  Natchez.  During  high  water  there  is  a  navigation  for  batteanx 
of  any  burthen  along  the  bayau.  A  large  lake,  called  St  J<ahn*s  lake,  oc- 
cupies a  considerable  part  of  the  passage  bet  ween  the  Mississippi  and  the 
Tenza  ;  it  is  in  a  horse  shoe  fonn,  and  has,  at  some  former  period,  been  the 
bed  of  the  Mississippi :    the  nearest  part  of  it  is  about  one  adle  rsnovcd 


Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


AMERICAU  STATS  PATBUl.  9t 

t&om  ^  river  at  the  present  time.  This  lake,  possessing  elevated  bank^») 
similar  to  tliose  of  the  river,  has  been  lately  occupied  and  improved.  The 
Catahoola  bayau  is  the  third  navigable  stream  :  during  the  time  of  the  in- 
undation there  is  an  excellent  commimication  by  tlie  lake  of  that  namc^  and 
fh)m  thence,  by  large  creeks,  to  the  Red  river.  The  country  around  tlie 
point  of  union  of  these  three  rivei-s  is  altogether  alluvial,  but  the  place  of 
Mr.  Hebrard*s  residence  is  no  longer  subject  to  inundation.  There  is  no 
doubti  that  as  the  coimtry  augments  in  population  and  riches,  tliis  place  wifl- 
become  the  site  of  a  commercial  inland  town,  which  will  keep  pace  with 
the  progress  and  prosperity  of  the  country.  One  of  the  Indian  mounts  here 
is  of  a  considerable  elevation,  with  a  species  of  rampart  surrounding  a  large 
space,  wliich  was,  no  dcmbt,  the  position  of  a  fortified  town. 

While  here,  Mr.  Dunbar  met  with  an  American,  who  pretended  4»  have 
been  up  the  Arkansa  river  three  hundred  leagues.  The  navigation  of  this 
river,  he  says^  is  good  to  that  distance,  for  boats  drawing  three  or  four  feet 
water.  Implicit  faith,  perhaps,  ought  not  to  be  given  to  his  relaUon,  re- 
specting  the  quantity  of  silver  he  pretends  to  have  collected  there.  He  say* 
he  has  found  silver  on  the  WUshita,  thirty  leag^ies  above  the  hot  springs,  so 
rich,  that  three  pounds  of  it  yielded  one  pound  of  silver,  and  that  this  was 
found  in  a  cave.  He  asserts,  also,  that  the  ore  of  the  mine  upon  the  little 
Missouri  was  carried  to  Kentucky,  by  a  person  of  the  name  of  Boon,  where . 
it  was  found  to  yield  largely  in  silver,  jhis  man  savs  he  "has  been  up  the 
Red  river  likewise,  and  that  there  is  a-^eat  rapid  just  belQ\v  the  raft,  or ' 
natural  bri<Ig^,  and  several  others  above  it ;  that  the  Caddo  nation  is  about 
fifty  leagues  above  the  raft,  awd  near  to  their  village  compfiences  the  country 
,of  the  great  prairies,  which  extend  four  or  five  himdred  miles  to  the  west 
of  the  sand  mountains,  as  they  are  termed.  These  great  plains  reach  far  * 
.beyond  the  Red  river  to  the  south,  and  northward  over  the  ^rkansa  rrver, ' 
and  among  the  numerous  branches  of  the  Missouri.  He  confirms  the  ac- 
count of  the  beauty  and  fertility  of  the  western  country. 

On  the  morning  of  the  25th  Mr.  Dunbar  set  out,  on  horseback,  from  the 
Catahoola  to  Natchez.    The  rain  which  had  fallen  on  the  preceding  day« 
rendered  the  roads  wet  and  muddy,  and  it  was  two  in  the  afternoon  before 
he  reached  the  Bayau  Crocodile,  which  is  considered  halfway  between  the* 
^ack  river  and  the  Mississippi.     It  is  one  of  the  numerous  creeks  in  the 
low  grounds  which  assist  in  venting  the  waters  of  the  inundation.    On  tHe 
margins  of  the  water  coiurses  tlie  lands  are  htgliest,  and  produce  canes  ; 
tliey  fall  off,  in  the  rear,  into  cypress  swamps  and  lakes.    The  waters  of  the 
Mississippi  were  rising,  and  it  was  with' some  diffictdty  that  they  reached  a 
house  near  Concord  that  evening.     This  settlement  was  bcgim  since  the  » 
cession  of  Louisiana  to  tlie  United  States,  by  citizens  of  the  Mi8si.ssippi  ter- ' 
.ritory,  who  have  established  their  residence  altogether  upon  newly  acquired 
lands,  taken  itp  usder  the  authority  of  t]\e  Spanish  commandant,  and  have 
^ne  to  the  expense  of  improveioem^  cither  in  the  names  of  themselves  or 
others,  before  the  2Qtli  of  December,  1803,  hoping  thereby.to  bold  ^eir  new  ' 
possessions  under  the  sanction  of  the  law. 

Exclusive  of  the  few  actual  residents  on  the  bank*  of  the  Mississippi, 
there  are  two  very  handsome  lakes  in  the  intcrioiu*,  on  the  banks  of  which 
similar  settlements  have  been  made.  He  crossed  at  the  ferry,  and  at  mid- 
.<lay  of  the  26th  reached  his  own  house. 

Dr,  Hunter,  and  the  remainder  of  the  party,  foUawed  Mr.  Dunbar  down 
^the  Washita  with  the  boat  in  which  they  had  ascended  the  river,  and,  as- 
cending the  Mississippi,  reached  St.  Catharuie's  landing  on  the  ^nomipg  of 
fhc  31st  January,  1805. 


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%%  AMERICAN  STATB  PAPSRt. 

Common  narfiCB  of  some  of  the  treea^  shruba^  and  filantw  ^rpfciwy  % 
the  vicinity  qf  the  JVaahita. 

Trrbe  kinds  of  white  oak,  four  kinds  of  red  oak,  black  oak,  three  kindi 
of  hickoiy,  one  of  which  has  an  oblong  nut,  white  and  good,  chinkapin,  tfare» 
kinds  of  ash,  one  of  which  is  the  pricMy,  three  kinds  of  elni,two  kinds  of  mj^>lea 
twokinds'of  pine|re4  cediu",  sweet  gum,  black  {^um,  linden,  two  kinds  of  irm 
Vood,  growing  on  high  and  low  lands,  sycamore,  box  elder,  holly,  sweet  bay, 
Igurel,  magnoha  acuininata,  black  w^ut,  filbert,  buckeye,  dogwood,  threo 
kinds  of  locust,  the  three-thomed  and  honey  locust,  hazle,  beech  ;  wiM 
plumb,  the  fruit  red  but  not  good  ;  bois  d'arc  (bow  wood^  called  also  bois 
laune  (yellow  wood)  a  famous  yellow  dye  ;  three  kinds  of  hawthorn,  with 
Icrries,  red,  scarlet,  and  black ;  lote  tree,  for  Indian  arrows ;  bois  dc  carbane, 
a  small  growth,  and  proper  for  hoops ;  two  kind^  of  osier^  myrtle,  toodi^adbo 
tree,  and  magnolia. 

A  vine,  bearing  large  good  black  grapes  in  bunches,  black  gn{^«  ^^ 
l^ape,  yelloyr  grape,  muscadine,  or  fox  grape,  and  a  variety  of  other  vines. 
The  saw  briar,  single  rose  briar,  and  china  root  briar,  ^ild  goose  beny, 
"with  a  dark  red  fruit,  three  kinds  of  whortle  berry,  wild  pomegranate,  pasam 
flower,  tyro  sorts  of  sumach,  winter's  berry,  winter's  green,  a  spiall  red 
farinaceous  berry  like  a  haw,  on  a  plant  one  inch  high,  which  grows  under 
the  snow,  and  is  eaten  by  the  Indians ;  the  silk  plant,  wild  endive,  wikl  olive, 
pink  root,  snake  root,  wild  mint  of  three  kinds,  coloauintida  (bitter  appie> 
growing  along  the  river  side,  clover,  sheep's  clover,  life  everlasting,  w3d 
liquorice,  mar}'gold,  missletoe,  thistle,  wild  hemp,  bull  rush,  dittany,  whits 
»nd  red  poppy,  yellow  jessamine,  poke,  fern,  capiUaire,  honeysuckle,  mosses^ 
{>etu  to  make  rapes  with,  wormwood,  hops,  ipecacuanha,  persicaria,  Intfis^ 
turnip,  wild  carrot,  wild  onion,  ginger,  wild  cabba^^  and  bastard  indigo. 


PRESIDENT'S  MESSAGE, 

COMMUNICATION    TO    BOT9    HOUSES   OF  qONGSESS,  AT    THE  COMlCEVC«« 
MENT    OF    TRE   SECOND    SESSION    OF    TUB    NINTH    CQNCKESS,    DECE1C« 

»ER   2,    1806. 

To  the  Senate  and  House  of  He/tmefitative* 

of  the  United  States,  tn  Congress  assembled. 
IT  would  have  given  me.  Fellow  Citizens,  great  tatisftc^oo  to  »• 
lliounce,  in  the  moment  of  your  meeting,  that  the  difficultiea  in  our  fo- 
reign relations,  existing  at  the  time  of  your  separation,  had  been  amicab^ 
and  justly  terminated.  I  lost  no  time  in  taking  those  measures  which  wers 
most  likely  to  bring  them  to  such  a  termination,  by  special  missions,  charg- 
ed  with  such  powers  and  instructions  as,  in  the  event  of  failure,  could  lews^ 
no  imputation  on  either  our  moderation  or  forbearance.  The  delays,  whidi 
have  since  taken  place  in  our  negoci»tions  with  the  British  Government,  sp- 
pear  to  have  proceeded  from  causes  which  do  not  forbid  the  expectatioQ 
that,  dming  the  course  of  the  session,  I  may  be  enabled  to  lay  before  yoo 
their  final  issue.  What  viriU  be  that  dT  the  negociations  for  settling  our  dif- 
fcrencea  with  Spun,  notliing  which  has  taken  place,  at  the  date  of  the  last 
dispatches,  enables  us  to  pronounce.  On  the  western  side  of  the  Mississippi 
Bhe  advanced  in  considerable  force,  and  took  post  at  the  settlement  of  Bayau 
Pierre,  on  Vhe  Red  river.  This  village  was  originally  settled  by  France, 
was  held  by  her  as  long  as  she  held  Louisiana,  and  was  delivered  to  Spain 
only  as  a  part  of  Louisiana.  Being  small,  insulated,  and  distant,  it  wis  not 
€})perved  at  the  moment  of  re-deliv^ry  to  France  and  the  United  SUtei^  duU 


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AUBmiCAV  BTATB  VAPBRt.  J9 

the  continued  a  guard  of  half  a  dozen  men,  which  had  been  ttationed  there. 
A  proposition,  however,  having  been  lately  made  by  our  commander  in  chiet 
to  assume  the  Sabine  river  as  a  temporary  line  of  separation  between  the 
troops  of  the  two  nations,  until  the  issue  of  our  negociations  shall  be  known 
this  has  been  referred  by  the  Spanish  commandant  to  his  superiour,  andinth« 
mean  time  he  has  withdrawn  his  force  to  the  western  side  of  the  Sabino 
river.  The  correspondence  on  this  subject,  now  communicated,  will  ex- 
hibit more  particularly  the  present  state  of  things  in  that  quarter. 

The  nature  of  that  country  requires  indispensably  that  an  unusual  propor- 
tion of  the  force  employed  there  should  be  cavalry  or  mounted  infancy.  In 
order  therefore  that  the  commanding  officer  might  be  enabled  to  act  with 
efi'ect,  I  had  authorized  him  to  call  on  the  govemours  of  Orleans  and  Missis- 
sippi for  a  corps  of  five  hundred  volunteer  cavalry.  The  temporary  arrange* 
menthe  has  proposed  may  perhaps  render  this  unnecessary.  But  I  inform 
you,  with  great  pleasure,  of  the  promptitude  with  which  the  inhabitants  of 
those  territories  have  tendered  their  services  in  defence  of  their  country. 
It  has  done  honour  to  themselves,  entitled  them  to  the  confidence  of  their 
fellow  citizens  in  every  part  of  the  Union,  and  must  strengthen  the  general 
determination  to  protect  them  efficaciously  under  all  circumstances  which 
may  occur. 

Having  received  information  that  in  anofSier  part  of  the  United  States  A 
^eat  number  of  private  individuals  were  combining  together,  arming  and 
org^izing  themselves,  contrary  to  law,  to  carry  on  a  military  expedition 
ag^nstthe  territories  of  Spain,  I  thought  it  necessary,  by  proclamation,  as 
well  as  by  special  orders,  to  take  measures  for  preventing  and  suppressing 
this  enterpnze,  for  seizing  the  vessels,  arms,  and  other  means  provided  for 
it,  and  for  arresting  and  bringing  to  justice  its  authors  and  abettors.  It 
^as  due  to  that  good  faith  which  ought  ever  to  be  the  rule  of  action  in 
publick  as  well  as  in  private  transactions  ;  it  was  due  to  good  order,  and  re- 
gular government,  that,  while  the  publick  force  was  acting  strictly  on  the 
defensive,  and  merely  to  protect  our  citizens  from  ag^gression,  the  criminal 
Attempts  of  private  individuals  to  decide,  for  their  country,  the  question  of 
peace  or  war,  by  commencing  active  and  unauthorized  hostilities,  should  b« 
promptly  and  efficaciously  suppressed. 

Whether  it  will  be  necessary  to  enlarge  our  regtdar  force,  will  depend  on 
the  result  of  our  negociations  with  Spain.  But  as  it  Is  uncertain  when  that 
result  will  be  known,  the  provisional  measures  requisite  for  that,  and  to 
meet  any  pressiu*e  intervening  in  that  quarter,  will  be  a  subject  for  your 
early  consideration. 

The  possession  of  both  banks  of  the  Mississippi  reducing  to  a  single  point 
the  defence  of  that  river,  its  water,  and  the  country  adjacent,  it  becomes 
highly  necessary  to  provide  for  that  point  a  more  adeauate  security.  Some 
position  above  its  mouth,  commanding  the  passage  oi  the  river,  should  be 
rendered  sufficiently  strong  to  cover  Uie  armed  vessels,  which  may  be  tta- 
tioned  there  for  defence  ;  and,  in  conjunction  with  them  to  present  an  insu- 
perable obstacle  to  any  force,  attempting  to  pass.  The  approaches  to  the 
city  of  New-Orleans,  from  the  eastern  quarter  also  wiU  require  to  be  ex- 
amined, and  more  effectually  guarded.  For  the  internal  support  of  the 
country,  the  encouragement  of  a  strong  settlement  on  the  western  side  of 
the  Mississippi,  witlun  the  reach  of  New-Orleans,  will  be  wortliy  the  consi* 
deration  of  the  legislature. 

The  gun-boats  authorized  by  an  act  of  the  last  session,  are  so  advanced*, 
that  they  will  be  ready  for  ser\ice  in  the  ensuing  spring.  Circumstances 
permitted  us  to  allow  ^e  time  necessary  for  their  more  solid  construction, 
^  a  much  Ur(^(^r  number  will  still  be  wanting  to  place  our  sea-port  towiif 
pi4  waters  in  that  state  of  defence  to  whic4i  we  are  GontpeteBts  and  |ii«^  «itt» 


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94x  AKKmCAU  BTATm  fAPEM^ 

titled,  %  fliimSAF  appropriation  lor  a  further  provision  of  them  it  feeonmend* 
ed  for  the  ensuing^  y^ip* 

A  fvxrtUer  appropriation  wiQ  also  be  necesaary  for  repairing  fbttificationft 
already  estabUshed,  and  the  erection  of  such  other  works  as  may  have  real 
cficct  m  obstructinr  the  approach  of  an  enemy  to  our  sea-port  to\vns,  or 
^eir  remaining  before  tl^m. 

In  a  country  whose  constitution  is  derived  from  the  will  of  the  people,  cfi. 
rectly  expressed  by  their  free  suffrages  ;  where  the  priiKipal  executi^-e 
functionaries,  and  those  of  the  legislature,  are  renewed  by  them  at  short 
periods  i  where,  under  the  characters  of  jurcM^,  tliey  exercijK  in  person  tht 
greatest  portion  of  the  judiciary  powers ;  where  the  Liws  are  consequently  w 
formed  and  a^Uninistered  as  so  bear  with  eqiud  weight  and  iaroiir  on  all, 
restxaining  no  man  in  the  pursuits  of  honest  industry^  and  securing  to  every 
one  tbii  property  which  tliat  acquires,  it  would  not  be  supposed  that  any 
safeguards  could  be  needed  against  insurrection,  or  ent^rprize,  on  the  pub* 
lick  peace  or  authority.  The  laws,  Iwwevcr,  aware  that  tliese  should  not 
be  trusted  to  moral  restraints  Only,  have  ^wisely  provided  punishment  for 
these  crimes  when  committed.  But  would  it  not  be  salutary  to  give  also 
the  means  of  preventing  their  commission  I  Where  an  enlerprize  is  medi- 
tated  by  private  individuals,  against  a  foreie^  nation,  in  amity  with  the  Uni. . 
led  States,  powers  of  prevention,  t^a  certain  extent,  ace  given  by  Ac  \m. 
>Vould  tliey  not  be  as  reasonable,  aitd  viseful,  wjherp  the  enterprize  prepar-  • 
ing  is  against  the  United  States  ?— While  adverting  to  this  branch  of  kw,  it 
is  proper  to  observe,  that,  tn  enterprizes  meditate^  against  foreign  nations, 
the  ordinary  process  of  binding  to  the  observance  of  the  peace  and  good  be- 
haviour, oould  it  be  extended  to  acts  to  be  done  out  of  the  juris<^ction  of  the 
United  States,  would  be  eiiectual  in  so^ie  cases  where  the  offender  is  able 
to  keep  out  of  sight  every  indication  oi"  his  purpose  which  could  draw  eii 
him  the  exercise  of  the  powers  now  pven  by  law. 

The  states  on  the  coast  of  Barbary  s^em  generally  disposed  at  present  to 
respect  our  peace  and  friendship.  With  Tunis  akne,  some  uncertainty  re- 
mains. Persuaded  that  it  is  o^r  interest  to  maintain  our  peace  with  them  on 
equal  terms,  or  not  at  all,  I  propose  to  send  in  due  tane  a  reinforcement  into 
tlieMediteiTaneaa,unle8S  previous  information  shall  shew  it  to  be  unnecesaaiy. 

We  continue  to  receive  proofs  of  the  growing  attachment  of  our  Indian 
ncighbours,and  of  their  disposition  to  place  all  their  interests  under  the  patron- 
age of  tlie  United  States.  These  dispositions  are  inspired  by  their  confidence 
in  our  justice  and  in  the  sincere  concern  we  feel  for  their  welfare.  And  as 
long  as  we  discharge  tliese  hig^  and  honourable  f\mctions  witli  the  integrity  • 
and  good  faith  ^which  alone  can  /entitle  us  to  their  continuance,  we  may  ex- 
pect to  reap  the  just  reward  in  their  peace  and  friendship. 

The  expedition  of  Messrs.  Lewis,  and  Clarke,  for  expiring  the  rifer 
Missouri,  and  the  best  commimication  from  that  to  the  Pacifick  Ocean,  has 
hacl  all  tlie  success  which  could  have  been  expected.  They  haw  traced  the 
Missouri  nearly  to  its  source,  descended  the  Columbia  to  tlie  Pacifick 
Ocean,  ascertained  with  accuracy  the  geography  of  that  interesting  coinniu- 
nicalion  across  our  continent,  learnt  tlie  character  of  the  country,  of  its 
commerce  and  inhabitants,  and  it  is  but  justice  to  say  that  Messrs.  Lcwif 
and  Clarke,  and  their  brave  companions,  have,  by  this  arduous  service,  de- 
•erved  well  of  their  country. 

The  attempt  to  explore  the  Red  River,  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Free- 
man, though  conducted  with  a  zeal  and  prudence  meriting  entire  approba- 
tion, has  not  been  equally  successful.  After  proceeding  up  about  six  hund- 
red miles  nearly  as  far  as  the  French  settlements  luul  extended,  while  the  , 
country  was  in  their  possession,  our  geographers  -were  obliged  U>  Tdau^ 
without  completing  their  work. 


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iMEIIICAK  STATE   tXTf^TLfS,     •  W 

Very  useful  additions  have  also  been  mndf  to  our  knowledge  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi, by  Lieutenant  Pike,  who  has  ascended  it  to  its  source,  and  whose 
journal  and  map,  giving  the  details  of  his  journey,  will  shortly  be  ready  fop 
communication  to  both  houses  of  congress.  Those  of  Messrs.  Lewis, 
Clarke  and  Freeman,  will  require  further  time  to  be  digested  and  preparedL 
Tliese  important  sur\'eys,  in  addition  to  those  before  ]x>ssesscd,  furnish  ma- 
terials for  commencing  an  accurate  map  of  the  Mississippi  and  its  western 
waters.  Some  principal  rivers  however  remain  still  to  be  explored,  toward^ 
which  the  authorisation  of  congress,  by  moderate  appropriations,  will  be 
requisite. 

I  congfratulate  you^  fellow-citizens,  on  the  approach  of  the  period  at  which 
you  may  interpose  your  authority  constitutionally,  to  withdraw  the  citizens  of 
tlie  United  States  trom  all  further  participation  in  those  violations  of  human 
rights,  which  have  been  so  long  continued  on  the  unoffending  inhabitants  of 
Africa,  and  which  the  morality,  the  reputation,  and  tlie  best  interests  of 
our  country',  have  long  been  eager  to  proscribe.  Although  no  law  you  may 
pass  can  tike  prohibitory  efl'ect  till  the  first  day  of  the  year  one-thoxisand 
eight  hmulrcd  aUjJ  eight,  yet  the  intervening  period  is  not  too  long  to  prevent, 
by  timely  notice,  expeditions,  which  cannot  be  completed  before  that  day. 

The  receipts  at  the  treasury,  during  the  year  ending  on  the  30th  day  of 
Sept  last,  have  amotmt&d  to  near'fifteen  miuions  of  douars :  which  have  en- 
abled us,  af^r  meeting  the  current  demands,  to  pay  two  millions  ftevei^ 
hundredthousanddollarsof  the  American  claims,  in  part  of  tJie  price  of 
Louisiana  ;  to  pay,  of  the  funded  debt,  upwards  of  tliree  millions  of  prin- 
cipal, and  nearly  four  of  interest,  and  in  addition  to  reimburse,  in  the  course 
of  the  present  month,  near  two  millions  of  five  and  a  half  per  cent  stock. 
These  payments  and  reimbursements  of  the  funded  debt,  with  those  which 
have  been  made  in  the  four  years  and  a  half  preceding,  will,  at  the  close  of 
tlie  present  year,  have  extinguished  upwarcb  of  23  millions  of  principal. 

The  duties  composing  the  Mediterranean  fund  will  cease,  by  law,  at  the 
end  of  tlie  present  session.  Considering,  however,  that  they  are  levied 
c^htefiy  on  luxuries,  and  that  we  have  an  impost  of  salt,  a  necessary  of  life, 
the  free  use  of  which  otherwise  is  so  important,  I  recommend  to  your  consi- 
deration the  suppression  of  the  duties  on  salt,  and  the  continuation  of  the 
Mediterranean  fimd,  instead  thereof,  for  a  short  time,  afler  which  that  al9i> 
will  become  unnecessary  for  any  purpose  now  within  contemplation. 

When  both  of  these  branches  of  revenue  shall,  in  this  way,  be  relinquish- 
ed, tliere  will  still,  ere  long,  be  an  accumulation  of  monies  in  the  trcasur}\ 
beyond  the  instalments  of  publick  debt  which  we  are  permitted  by  contract 
to  pay.  Tliey  cannot  then,  without  a  modification,  assented  to  by  the  ptib- 
lick  creditors,  be  appUed  to  the  extinguishment  of  this  debt,  and  tlie  com- 
plete liberation  of  oCr  revenues,  the  most  desirable  of  all  objects.  Nor,  if 
our  peace  continues,  will  tlicy  be  wanting  for  any  otlier  existing  purpose. 
The  qaestion,  therefore,  now  comes  forward,  to  what  other  objects  shall 
tliese  surplusses  be  appropriated,  and  the  whole  sui'plus  of  impost,  after  the 
entire  discharge  of  the  publick  debt,  and  during  tliose  intervals  when  tho 
purposes  of  war  shall  not  call  for  tliem  ?  Shall  we  suppress  the  impost,  and 
give  that  advantage  to  foreign  over  domestiek  manufactures  T  On  a  fewaill- 
cles,  of  more  general  and  necessary  use,  the  suppression,  in  due  season,  will 
doubtless  be  right ;  but  the  great  mass  of  the  articles,  on  which  impost  is 
^aid,  are  foreign  luxuries,  purchased  by  those  only  who  ai-e  rich  enough  to 
ailbrd  themselves  the  use  of  them. — ^Tlieir  patriotism  would  certainly  pre- 
fer its  continuance  and  application  to  the  great  porposcs  of  the  publick  edu- 
cation, roads,  rivers,  canals,  and  such  otlier  fibjects  of  publick  improvcnient 
as  it  may  be  ttiouglit  proper  to  add  to  the  constitutional  enumeration  of  fed- 


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#6  JUlftRICAK  STATC   PAPEK8« 

«ral  prtWcrs.  By  these  operations,  new  channels  of  commonicatlon  ^n  b^ 
opened  between  the  States  j  thelin'es  of  separation  will  disappear,  their 
interests  will  be  identified,  and  theif  union  cemented  by  new  and  indissolu^ 
ble  ties.  Education  is  he^  placed  among*  the  a^licles  of  publick  care,  not 
that  it  would  be  proposed  to^ake^^its  ordinary  branches  out  of  the  hands  oi 
private  cnterprize,  wbick  manages  so  much  better  all  the  concerns  to  which 
It  is  equal ;  but  a  publick /institution  can  alone  supply  those  sciences, 
which,  though  parely  called  for,  are  yet  necessary  to  complete  the  circle,  aU 
the  parts  of  which  contribute  to  the  improvement  of  the  country,  and  some  of* 
them  to  its  preservation. ,  The  subject  is  now  proposed  for  the  considetatioa 
of  congress,^  Seq^Aise^  if  approved,  by  the  time  the  state  legislatures 
•hall  have  deliberated  on  this  ei^tfension  of  the  federal  trusts  and  the  laws 
•hall  be  oa^sccl,  and  other  arrangements  made  for  their  execution,  the  neces- 
•ary  fimos  will  be.  on  hand,  and  without  emplojinent  I  suppose  an  amend- 
ment of  tlie  con'stitution,  by  the  consent  of  the  States,  necessary,  because  the 
objects  now  recommended  are  not  among  those  enumerated  in  the  cossti* 
tution,  arid  to  which  it  permits  the  publick  monies  to  be  applied. 
''The  present  consideration  for  a  national  establishment  ror  educatioo  par- 
ticularly, is  rendlered  proper  by  this  circumstance  also,  that,  if  Congress, 
approving  the  proposition,  shall  yet  tliink  it  more  eligible  to  found  it  on  a 
donation  of  lands,  they  have  it  now  in  their  power  to  endow  it  wiUi  those 
which  will  be  among  the  earliest  to  produce  the  necessary  income.  This 
foundation  would  have  the  advantage  of  being  indef>endent  on  #ar,  which 
may  suspend  other  improvements  by  requiring  for  its  own  purt>o8es  tlie  re-» 
sources  destined  for  tliem. 

This,  fellow  citizens,  is  the  state  of  the  publick  iritcrests,  at  the  present 
moment,  and  according  to  the  inforination  now  possessed.  But  such  is  the 
situation  of  tlie  nations  of -Curope,  and  such  too  the  predicament  in  which 
we  stand  witli  some  of  thcra,  that  we  cannot  rely  with  certainty  on  the  pre- 
sent aspect  of  our  affairs,  tliat  may  change  from  moment  to  moment,  dur- 
ing the  course  of  your  session,  or  after  you  shall  have  separated.  Our  du:^ 
tlierefore  is  to  act  upon  tilings  as  they  are,  and  to  make  a  reasonable  provi- 
sion for  wlUtever  they,  may  be.  Were  armies  to  be  raised  whenever  a 
speck  of  war  is  visible  in  our  horizon,  we  never  should  have  been  without 
them.  Our  resources  would  have  been  exliausted  on  dangers  which  have 
ilever  happened,  instead  of  being  reserved  for  wluit  is  really  to  take  place. 
A  steady,  perhaps  a  quickened  pace,  in  preparations  for  tlie  defence  of  our 
seaport  towns  and  waters,  an  early  settlement  of  the  most  exposed  and  vul- 
nerable parts  of  our  country,  a  miUtia  so  organized  tliat  its  effective  portions 
can  be  called  to  any  point  in  the  union,  or  volunteers  instead  of  them,  to 
serve  a  sufficient  time,  arc  means  wliich  may  always  be  ready,  yet  never 
preying  on  our  resources  until  actually  called  into  use.  They  will  maintain 
the  publick  interests,  while  a  more  permanent  force  shall  be  in  a  course  of 
preparation.  But  much  will  depend  on  tlie  promptitude  with  which  these 
means  can  be  brou^lit  into  actinty.  If  war  be  forced  upon  us  in  spite  «^ 
our  long  and  vain  appeals  to  the  justice  of  nations,  rapid  and  vigorous 
movements,  in  its  outset,  will  go  far  towards  securing  us  in  its  course  and 
issue,  and  towards  tlirowing  its  burtlicns  on  those  who  render  necessary  the 
resort  from  reason  to  force. 

The  result  of  our  negociations,  or  such  incidents  in  their  course  as  may 
enable  us  to  infer  their  proba!)lc  issue  ;  such  further  movements  also,  on 
our  western  frontiers  as  may  shew  whether  war  is  to  be  pressed  there,  while 
negociation  is  protracted  elsewhere,  shall  be  coniinvmicatcd  to  }'ou  from 
time  to  time,  as  they  become  known  to  me  ;  witli  whatever  other  informa-' 
tion  I  possess  or  may  receive,  whicli  may  aid  your  deliberations  on  the  great 
■ational  intere»ts  committad  to  your  charge.  1^.  J£FF£RSON. 


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