Bee, or Literary Weekly Intelligencer

phat)

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hefale heey

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HEN CRAVED” #0OR DTH BRE

The Constable PE.of BUCHAN. :

,

liom an autherlich fective tre the
Collection. of the Larl of Buchan .

THE BEE,

OR

LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER,

CONSISTING OF

ORIGINAL PIECES AND SELECTIONS FROM PERFORMANCES
OF MERIT, FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC.

A

“

A WORK CALCULATED TO DISSEMINATE USEFUL KNOWLEDGE
- AMON6 ALL RANKS OF PEOPLE ATA SMALL EXPENCE,
a

BY

»

_JAMES, ANDERSON, LL D.
FRS. FAS, S.

Honsrary Member of the Society of Arts, Agriculture, &c. at BATH} of the
Philosophical, and of the Agricultural Societies in MANCHESTER} of the
Society for promoting Natural History, Lonvow ; of the Academy of Arts,
Sciences, and Belles Lettres, Dijon; and correspoxdent Member of the

Royal Society of agriculture, Paris; Author of several Performances.

VOLUME TENTH.

BPonrrk LITERATUR
oe AGRICULTURE
A \ MANUFACTURES 4

EDINBURGH:
PRINTED FOR THE EDITOR, nw”
My BCCsXCII.—VOL oi"

A,
a.

ee eee
CONTENTS OF VOLUME TENTH.

‘

PAGE | PAGE

Sxercu ofthe life of the earl On Dr Stuart’s elements, - - 140

Buchan, with a portrait, - - 1 | Exercises inpractical grammar, 146

The improvement of theep and To correspondents, - - - - ib,
wool, --- - = = 39 | Account of the armadillo, with

On the poors rates, - = = 17 acut,- - - - - -- - 153
@haracteristical anecdotes of | Timoleon’s second letterto the

‘Fontaine, the French fabulist, 27 people of Great Britain, - - 155

Phe petition of the fharks of
Africas - - - + = - - 34
Extracts from Coxe’s travels, - 36 |
To correspondents, - - - 40
Sketch of the life of the earl
Buchan, concluded, - -- 41
The improvement of fheep and
wool, concluded, - - - - 47
Remarks on taxation, - - - = 57 Wales = ------- - ‘= 190
Qn the milky way, - - - 61 | Tocorrespondents,--- - - - ib.
Reading memorandums, - - + 63 Account of Arcadia continued, 193

On the cotton manufactures, = 164,
On mathematics, - = - - - 17%
An anecdote of James. - - 174
Exercises in practical grammar

continued, -- - - = -~- 177
Selico, a tale, translated from

the French of M. Fiorian - 182
Intelligence from New South

Gleanings of literature,—elec- Efsay on delicacy of sentiment, 201
* tric symptoms accompanying Antiquities in Scotland, - - - 20
earthquakes,-- = - - - The ruins of a vitrified fortifi-
Review—history of the effects cation, - - = = - 2+. 211
of hard drinking, by J. C. On Voltaire, =~ - - = - 212
Lettsom, M. D. 4to, Lon- Selico, a tale, concluded, ~ 219
don, 1792, - - - - = 71 | Anecdote - - - - - - ~ 223
Extracts from Coxe’s travels, - 77 | To correspondents, - - - - ~ 224
Account of the pangolin, great Timoleon’s third letter to the
manis, or scaly lizard, with people of Great Britain, = 225
‘acut, = --'- ~ -~- ~- 817 Onarchitecture, - - - - 234
Lucubrations of Timothy Hair- Grammatical disquisitions, - - 239
brain,- - -----+ - - An account of the agamée, - 249
Remarks on Thunderproof’s Anecdotes of Broor, the cele-
efsays by Misobrontes, - - 96 brated Flemith painter, - - 254
Reading memorandums, - - 102 } The temple ofHymen, - -257
Gleanings of literature, - - - 107 ; Literary intelligence, - - -262
A Turkith cure for the gout, s10 ; Anecdotes of Alphonso, king
Anecdote of anew made justice, 112 of Arragon, ~ = - = ~ 263
To correspondents, - - - = ib, | Tocorrespondents, - - - 264
Efsay on coughs and colds - - 113 | Of taste in architecture, - - 265
On leases - - - - = ~ = 122 } Description of the fortifications
Additional observations on ditto 127 at Dun-o-deer in Scotland, 274.
On Rupert's glafs drops, - - 130 | Ground plan of the hill of
Anecdote of William 111. - = 134 Dun-o-deer, ~ + - = 276
of asailor, - - - = 135 | West and north views of the
Description of a view on the hill and fortifications of ditto, 276
Water of Leith - + ~ + 136 | Grammatical disquisitions, - 274
Detached remark, - + - - ib, | Detached remark, - - ~ 286

St contents.
PAGE PAGE
Thoughts on the commotions in Modern refinement or a cha-
Roltsthire, - - - - - 297 racter of the times, = - 105
Hints to the patrons of the Verses from a poem entitled
Bee, «+ - = - <= 297-2 a Morning Walk, - - - 137

Experiments on gypsum, 300—2
Timoleon’s letter to she Edi-

tor, ~ - - = = = 304—2
On Weir’s museum, -- - 304—2
Observations on Spanith theep,

with a cut of a Spanifh ram, 305
Account of Don, a Merino ram, 307
Grammatical djsquisitions con-

tinued, < - =" = = = 311

pe SS SS

The peacock and dove a fable 139
Verses on flattery, = - 175
Martial, lib. v. epig. ro:imita- ;

1 aCe pale y= - - ~cub.
Martial, lib. xii. “epig. 991.

imitated, - - - 176)
The ninth elegy of Buchanan

translated, - - - ibs

Ovid's epistle to his wife; from

On revenue laws, = --. 319 Pontus, translated, - - 216
Wisdom and wealth an alle- Verses to-hope, =) - - - 217
gory, - - - *) = = 323 The lafs of Martindale, - - 218
Hints 1 the prosperity of An epigramy = = = = '=) tbs
states, -" - = = - = 325 | Verses on patience, eovenge 246
Hints respecting the progrefs of wrote bya ladyina deep
manufactures, - - = - 331 decline to: her child, an in-
A new and important disco- ~ fantofninemonths old, - 247
very, - ~ = - - - 335 | Lines wrote by Voltaise on his
To correspondents, - - ~- 336 death-bed, supposed to be
Historical chronicle at the end, the lasc he ever wrote, = 248
‘ | An ode to fancy, -- - «= = 236
What is love? - - - = 287
7 ROEERT Martial, lib. ii. epig. 8. imi-
The lottery, a tale for the la- |< -tatedyst wie, 2: 26 spata BB
dies, -"- = -° - = 265 | Martial, ditto, epig. 4. ditto, - ib.
Martial, lib. viii. epig, 3 imi- | The disappointment, - - - 329
tated, - + - - - - 65 | Thomson to Mifs Young, - ibe
Rondo by T.H Butler, tothe Martial, lib. xii, epig. 21
memory of Mrs Sheridan, - 66 | ‘ imitated, + - -- -- °» 330
Verses on the spring, - - 67 | Martial ditto, epig. 34 ditto, - ibs
Sonnet, - - - = - - 3105 | Anepigram, --~- -- - = ibs
ERRATA.

Pace 48 dele the three last lines of the page.

105 line 9 for thistle ravine read thistles tevine.

—— 163 line 20 for state, dear bought, read state. Dear bought.

242 last line for reflection read reflexion.

Directions ror THE Brnper.
Place the chronicle ac the end before the index; and the contents next
the title page. There are two signatures PP.
‘ PLATES. E
Heap of the earl of Buchan fronting p. 1.—The Pangolin p. 9z.—View
of St Bernard’s wel! p. 136 — The armadillo p. 153——Ruirs of vitri-
fied wails at Dun-o-deer p. 211,—Ground plan of the hill of ditto. Pe 273
West and north views of ditto p, 276.—Spaniih ram p. 405.

$2.

THE BEE,
OR »
LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER,

FOR

WEDNESDAY, JULY II. 1792.

SKETCH OF THE LIFE

. OF
JOHN,E.OF BUCHAN, CONSTABLE OF FRANCE.
BY ALBANICUS. WITH A PORTRAIT.

_ Sr, . To the Editor of the Bee.
Havinc observed with wonder and regret, that, while
‘the editors of the Biographia Britannica have been ob-

truding on the public the lives of obscure clergymen,
‘whose most honourable ‘sitwation is the fhade, and
‘whose’best- memorial is: their parochial reputation pre-
served by the tradition of the people, they have omitted
some of the most ifiteresting characters that had-es-
-eaped their predecefsors in the former edition of the
Biographia, I have thought it might not be improper
to throw upon paper, for this respectable miscellany,
the outlines of a-life and character, that has been hi-
‘therto unjustly neglected by our Britifh biogra-
i phers.
[= ——_-.-—_—_______}

Joun Stewart, earl of Buchan, constable of France,
was the eldest son of Robert, duke of Albany, by his

TOL, X A t

2 life of Fobn earl of Buchan. Fuly 11.
second wife, (Muriella or Maurielle Keith) daughter
of Sir William Keith, great marifhal of Scotland.
He was born about the year 1380, and trained from
his early youth to'the profefsion of arms.

His father, the duke régent, gave him for his es-
tablifhment the lands and lordthip of Coule*; and
from thence he was called among the people, the
brave John o’ Coule. In the year 1406, he was
named one of the hostages that were to go to Eng-
‘land ‘for the ransom of the earl of Douglas, who had
‘remained a prisoner since the battle of Shrewsbury,
in the year 14015 “but the negotiation for the libera-
“tion of Douglas having proved abortive, he, with
the other intended hostages, remained in Scoflandt.

The earldom of Buchan, ‘having been vested in the
duke of Albany, :since'the death of his brother Alex-
ander in the year 1394, he, upon his appointment
to the regency, conferred the lands of the earldom
on his son, John of \Coul, resigning to him, at the
same time, the office of great chamberlain of the
kingdom, which the duke had held since the year
1383 t.

The letters. patent, under the -great seal, granting
this office to Stuart, design him laird, or lord, of
Buchan only ; and/by the same designation only he
‘is named ,in a grant from his grandfather Sir Wil-
Jiam Keith, the marifhal, and. Margaret Fraser his
grandmother, of the lands of Touch, and theriffship
of Stirlingfhire, which sufficiently prove that the ters

* Charter in the public archives of Seotland.

+ Rymer’s Feedera; tom. viii. p. 429.

& Charter in the rolls of Robert duke of Albaow. \

r792. . — life of Fobn earl of Buchan. 3
fitory of an earldom alone, did not, at that time, con--
vey the jurisdiction in’ Scotland.

Inthe year 1408, a charter pafsed the great seal;
for conveying the office and jurisdiction of earl’ to-
the laird‘of Buchan *.. The creation of an earl in

Scotland gave no particular right of sitting in parlias
ment. ‘ John Stuart sat, before his creation to the
earldom, in right of his lands. The Scots, it would
seem, had no idea inithose days of a king creating 2
citizen and legislator.

- The duke regent obtained likewise for his sonj
Buchan, the earldom of Rofs, on the resignation of
Euphemia,.the daughter and -heirefs’ of Alexander’
Lesly earl of Rofs, by the princefs Isabella Stuart, who'
was the daughter of Albany by his first marriage +.

-. Brichan obtained pofsefsion of the earldom of Rofs,.
and exercised its functions, as wellas took the title}.
as appears from his charters. \ Donald M‘Donald,.
lord of the Isles, descended from Somerled; thane of
Argyll, disputed the validity of! this transaction im
right of his wife, fought the battle of Hairlaw, anno.
140$; in defence of his pretensions, which were after
wards, by compromise with the crown, allowed to his .
son, -The earldom:of Rofs was long after forfited}
and annexed to the crown; but from the lady Joanna;
the second daughter. of William: the sixth earl, the

- present lord’ Salton is descended, and’ is her heir, not:

(as it appears) legally affected by the attainder, acs

cording to.our-modern doctrine of forfeiture. ;

* Charter in the rolls of Robert duke of Albany.

+ Euphemia was sickly, deformed, and devout, and: had been induced
to.become a nun.

\

~ life of Fobn earl of Buchan. Fuly Ts.
. In the year 1408, the earl of Buchan was named
one of the hostages to go into England for.the ran-
som. of his brother the earl of Fife*; but though a
safe conduct was sent for. the hostages, the transac-
tion did not proceed. Jn the year 1413, he married
the lady Elizabeth Douglas, daughter of Archibald,
the fourth earl of Douglas, by whom he had an only
daughter, who became the wife of the lord Seton,
ancestor of the earls of Winton t.
’ ‘In the year 1416, the duke of Albany having. re-
newed the. negotiation with England for the ransom.
of king James 1, who had been now ten years a pri-.
soner, in breach. of. the law. of nations, appointed .
Buchan, with other great lords, to complete the treaty.
for his delivery.; ‘but they were forced to return to.
Scotland, after a.fhort. residence, without wenieble
to bring it.to.an equitable conclusion.

In the beginning. of the year. 1419, Buchan was.
appointed commander.in chief of the Scots auxiliaries, .
for supporting the right of Charles. vit. while dau-
phin of France, to the suecefsion to that. kingdom, .
against.the machinations of the infamous queen Isa-
bella, and the arms of England. Under the command.
of the earl of Buchan, were Sir John Stuart of Darn-
ley, Sir Robert Stuart, Archibald, earl of Wigton, .
son to earl Douglas, Sir Alexander Lindsay, brother
to the earl of Crawfurd, and several other captains of.
distinguifhed. bravery and reputation, with four thou,
sand chosen. veterans from the militia of Scotland,
who had served under the banners of their respeetive

° ® Rymer’s Fadera ad annum 1408, + Crawfurd, Ge.

17Qt - life of Foba earl of Buchan..
chieftans in the wars with England. These troops :
were landed at Rochelle, eatly in the summer of that.
year, and soon after proceeded to the aid of the dau-
phin, who had been lately deceived by the pretended.
reconciliation of the duke of Burgundy at Poully
le Fort. A truce soon succeeded by the renewal of
hostilities by Henry v.

It would exceed the limits of your journal, fhould
I here enter into a detail of the circumstances, not
lefs interesting. in themselves than characteristic of
the times, whtch happened at the interview between
the dauphin and. the duke of Burgundy at Pouilly, .
and the conference at. Montereau, where the duke, .
from an accidental mistake, was cruelly afsafsinated...
Nor would many of your readers be deeply iaterests .
‘ed in the political struggles of that kingdom at a pe-.
riod now so distant. It is only necefsary to say that
_ this afsafsination proved highly detrimental. to the in-
terests of the dauphin. It served to unite the-prin-.
cipal cities against. him, and in favours of Henry. v.
of England, whose son, in place of the dauphin, was.
acknowledged to be the presumptive heir to the crowa.
of France, which was the cause of those unfortunate
wars that. rendered both. countries. miserable for a
long time; and happily, terminated at- last. in the
total expulsion, of the Englifh: from that kingdom,
and a total relinguifhment, on our own part, of all.
claims, unlefs it. be to retain the empty title of king
of France, which we still, ania enough, continue
to adopt.

As it was in these struggles that the earl of Buchan
distinguiftied himself, so much of the history only

6 life of Fobn earl of Buchan. Fuly 11%.
fhall be resumed, as is necefsary to display his ats
chievements and character.

The unhappy Charles 1x. of France died on she
noth October 1422, when'the dauphin, finding himself
declared a public enemy by the parliament: of Paris,
notwithstanding the uncommon inclemeney of the win-
ter, afsembled his forces, and with the aid of the Scots
auxiliaries, under the command of the:earl of Buchan,
which had received a reinforcement from: Scotland;
marched them into the province of Anjou, and joined
these troops to the militia, under the command of the
marithal de la Fayette, the viscount of: Narbonne, and
other experienced officers; Tanegui de Chastelj
and other confidential commanders, taking charge of '
the forces. under the ac s immediate itn at
Tours.

The duke of Clarence; who commanded: the forces
of the king of England, after. having for some time
watched and counteracted the movements of the allied -
forces of. the dauphin, resolved to attack them in
their post, adjoining to Baugé. Clarence expected
to surprise Buchan in his camp; and with that
design drew off fifteen hundred men at arms, of the
chosen strength of his army, together with about
four'thousand militia, leaving the earl of Salifbury to

“¢ome up:with the main body of the army to cover
his intended attack; but Buchan having received in-
telligence of the approach of Clarence, received him.

- with a-good countenance and in full force. After hav-

_ ing received the impetuous fhock of Clarence’s at+

tack, he drove him back by his close and firm defence
upon his rear guard, breaking through the ranks: of

\

E792 life of Fohn earl of Buchan. v
the Englihh, and, after a long and obstinate conflict,
gaining a decisive victory, before the main body of
their army was brought up by Salifbury.
_ The duke. of Clarence was killed in the beginning
of the engagement, as it is said, by Buchan himself,
who stunned and unhorsed him by a:blow of his
“mace.
Others, with appearance of truth, afsert that Buchan
only struck and unhorsed the duke, and that he was
killed by the laird of Swinton *. The. earl of Kent,
and the lords Rous and Grey, were among the slain.;
‘the earls of Huntingdon and Somerset, and the count
de la Perche,-were made prisoners. The whole lofs
-of the Englith is estimated, by contemporary writers,

qt three thousand, and on.the side of.the dauphin at
«eleven hundred, _

_ Notwithstanding ‘this advantage, Buchan did not
-attack the.reserve under the earl of Salifbury, being
afraid, in the present situation of the dauphin’s af-

fairs, of hazarding a check which might lefsen the ef-

fect of so important a victory; and therefore he pru-
dently led his army to overawe the provinces that
might otherwise afford militia to strengthen the army
of the enemy. He accordingly made himself master
of several considerable places, and invested the for-
trefs of Alencon, to the relief of which the earl of

Salifbury came up, but thought it not proper to at-
‘tack Buchan when his troops were flufhed with vic-
‘tory, and pofsefsed of a favourable situation for
battle

_* Ancestor of the worthy and respectable lord Swinton, one of the
fMords of Sefsion in Scotland,

‘S life of ¥ohn earl of Buchan. “Fuly' Tt.
On his retreat, Buchan being desirous of relinquifh-
ing the siege, when he had just struck terror on the
enemy, attacked Salifbury, and, cutting off three‘or
four hundred of his troops, penetrated into the coun~
try without the disadvantage of seeming to relinquifh
‘the siege of Alengon from motives of prudence. In
this conduct Buchan seems to have exhibited the cau-
tion and foresight of a political commander, who
looked to the general posture of the kingdom, and of
the dauphin’s affairs, rather than to the fafhionable
impetuosity of the times ; and to have gained credit
for his conduct at Verneuiel, which, notwithstanding
the French accounts, I believe, was for waving battle’
and protracting the war, rather than hazarding a ge-’
neral engagemeiit with disadvantage, and ty opinion
is founded on this affair at Alencon.
' The accounts of the victory at Bang? were received
by ‘the dauphin at Tours, who, with a view to attach
the Scots, whose valour had so signally contributed to
gain this advantage, bestowed the sword of constable
of France, which had remained unpofsefsed since the
death of the ‘count d’ Armagnac, on the brave earl
of Buchan* ; who was not long after permitted to re-
turn.to Scotland, with a view to obtain another rein-
forcement of his brave countrymen to support the
cause of France and the dauphin. .

To be continued.

* L’Histoire de-France. par Villaret, p..282. Mizeral,. Daniel, @c.

-

B7Q%- —-tmtprovement of Yoeep and wool. \ -9

a Ts oa a

THE IMPROVEMENT OF SHEEP. AND WOOL,

To Sik ‘yobn Sinclair, Bird and the other apdelor’ and members
- ofthe society insiituted for the RS ig of Peis woo!
i aniScosland. : )

GENTLEMEN,

3 must give pleasure to every one who has the pro-
-Sperity of this ‘country at heart, to see, that, by your —
‘means, ‘such a general spirit has been excited in this
‘nation, and the public attention so strongly directed
stowards the improvement of wool, one of the earliest
‘and most important staple productions’ of this island ;
and iti is the duty of every good man to co-operate
with you in rendering these improvements as com-
plete and as lasting as pofsible.

~ As you have invited évery person to suggest what-
ever appears to them of utility on this momentous
Subject, F beg” leave, in ag a with that invi-
tation, with all pofsible réspect, to submit the follow-
ing hints to your consideration.

The attention of a great part of Europe is now di-
tected towards you, and expectations are raised that
bught not to be disappointed. It therefore behoves
you to proceed with a cautious circumspection.
‘Many important facts respecting this subject are
hitherto unascertained; and as opinions are divided
eoncerning them, I humbly~beg leave to submit to
your consideration, whether, in order to cut flort the
endlefs arguments that must occur where opznions
are offered instead of facts, it might not be proper to
*OvOL. xt. B +

io improvement of fhecp and wool. Fuly it.
to begin with making such experiments as fhould ef-
fectually ascertain doubtful facts ; after which we
might then proceed to reason upon them with lel
priety. y

‘Every gentleman in this society A had opportu-
nities of observing the confusion that .arises from
different persons having adopted opinions contradic-
tory to each other. Without, therefore, spending
more time on this head, I fhall proceed to mention 4
' few of those things respecting the nature and econo-
my of the fheep, that are still disputable; and to point
out a plan by which it is probable some of them ei
be ascertained. ;

I conceive that no person can, at the present M0-
ment, give clear and satisfactory answers to the fol-
lowing queries, from facts that have, to his know-
ledge, beeen ascertained by clear and undeniable ex-
periments, vz.

ist. What is the influence of climate on the Sine
nefs, and other qualities of wool?

2d. What is the effect of food in altering the fines
nefs and other qualities of wool ?.

3d. What effect has exercise in these respects } ?

4th. What is the effect of sex, castration, t8e. on
the quality of wool and its quantity ? ‘

5th. How does age affect the finenefs, eldest etal or
cther qualities of the wool? Greed

6th. Is the size of the animal necefsarily connec-
ted with the finenefs, length, i ia or other qrae
lities of wool ?. :

4th. Is the fveneln fences or other qualities of
the wool, necefsarily connected with the hardinefs: or
delicacy of the constitution of the animal ?

,

379% = improvement of focep and wool. ¥i
. 8th. Is the closene/s of the pile necefsarily cons
nected with the finenefs of the wool, or the reverse?
~ gth. Areshortnefs of pile, and-length of staple, spe-
cifically different, ov may, they be rghanged without
any alteration of the breed?

_1oth. Isdength of staple necefsarily connected. with
lisp of filament, or vice versa?

11th. :Is the tendency to fatten easily, necefsarily,
ne invariably connected, either with finenefs of wool,
closenefs of, pile, or any other particular concerning
the fleece ?

_; Bath. What i is the TE of breed i in altering the
qualities of the flock, independent of all other circum
stances?

‘These queries. might | be extended to a2 much great.
er bokaneithe ; but a few observations on the above par~
ticulars will be sufficient to illustrate my meaning,
and to point out the wigsis of the measure i intend
to propose.

_ 1. The influence of clunate on the qualities of wool.

While one set of persons contend that cold and rie
gorous climates produce coarse and hairy wool, anoe
ther party maintain, with equal positivenefs, that such
rigorous climates tend to render wool of the same
animal, finer and better in every respect.. Which of
these are right, or whether both of them may not ia
part be right, and im part be wrong, are points that
require to be yet ascei tained ; and before this can be.
done with precision, various, circumstances must be
severally adverted to.

Climate, in as far as respects the present object of
discufsion, may be considered under three distinct

ia improversent of foeep and-wool. > July tt
heads, we. rst. Ja regard to heat and éold alone.
ad. Ta regerd to moisture and drynefs upon the wholet
And 3d, Ia regard to the particular season of the
year, that any excefs\ in respect to either of these
particulars may most prevail. :

‘ With regard to heat and ‘cold. AS this: pots has.
been already ascertained by experiments, opinions difs
fer perhaps lefs than on any other head. ‘-I-believe.
most persons who have reflected on this subject, aré
now satisfied that heat Has. a natural. tendeney ta
tnake the wool of fheep coarser in quality and thins
fer in pile; and that etd, on the other hand, renders
the fleete both finer ‘in ‘the grain and closet in pile
On this head, I myself have no doubt, having made
4 great’ many experiments on this subject with the
necefsary accuracy, which ascertained this point to.
the entire satisfaction, not only of myself, but of every
other person who closely attended to them*: But
others may doubt of this ; and to give these experts
ments their full degree of authenticity it would be
proper that thesé fhould be repeated under the direc-
tion of this society, with a due attention to every
‘gircumstance that can pofsibly affect the result. In
particular, it ‘would be necefsary to advert to the folz
lowin g circumstances, which were not under my view
at the time these’ experiments were made, visi _
first, the'permanency of a change preduced by ehmate
on the ‘animal itself; or, second, the influencé that

_atemporary variation of ‘climate may have’ on the

* These experiments are faithfully recorded. Observations on nation=
al industry, Letter Vik. srs postscript to it, to which tHe! cui tou reales i is ,
MRM SIT pif di ME yes ire eh

T7943: ¥ . Yoproveméent of. feb awd woe’. by
Ree UE its progeny. Men cannot think with too
thtich ‘precision ‘on sub jects of this nature, T thal
aeretore €xplain myself.
~ By ny experiments it appeats: ts be ‘undeniable,
that that part of ‘every separate filament of wool
which grows during the’ warn season of the year, is
toarser thah that part of the same filament which.
Brows duting ‘cold weather; and that. the variation -
fn this respect will be proportioned to the difference:
between the heat of these Seasons. I[t has also been
‘ascertained, by many experiments made by others,
that if a fheep’ be carried from a cold climate to ont
which is greatly warmer, it not only produces wool
of acoarser filament than ‘before, but it also. produces
a fldece much thinner in the pile than fornierly.. The
points that I had no opportunity of ascertaining; ate
the following, wiz. first, Supposing the individual ani?-.
tial liad been kept somie fears in 2 warm climate,
and then wete ‘brought back to its original climate,
Would it again’ produce a fleece after that, as fine and.
as close, as the same fheep’ would ‘have done if it had
never changed its ‘climate? Or, would it have had
its constitution so altered, as never mote to produce
‘as fine wool as before > This is what I meant above
by the purase’ pernianency ‘of effect of climate on the
animal itself. Or, Secondly, supposing a breed of
fheep had beew carried into a warm ‘climate ftom a
‘cold one; and there allowed to procreate for several
‘generations, withou! intermixture with any othet
breed ; and thould some of these descendants’ bé agaih
brought back’ to the place’ from whence’ they ori»
Yinally ser out, Would’ these: theep, thus~ brought

14 improvement of foeep and woot. | Fuly 1%,
back to the cold climate, produce wool of* the same
quality as their parent breed did before the migra-~
tion? or would they have been so debased by the
warm climate, as that themselves, and their deseen-
dants, would continue to yield coarser wool ‘than the
parent-stock? These may, to some, appear curious
questions only, that promise to be of no great prac-
tical utility ; but it would be easy to fhow that the
aseertaining these points beyond dispute would have
very extensive influence on practice ; and would give
a steadinefs to the enterprizes in which the society
are engaged, that they never otherwise can attain.

_ In regard to wet and storminefs of weather (inde-
pendent of its affecting the quality of the food,) on
its altering the finenefs or other qualities of the wool
of fheep, its effects have never, that I know of, been
experimentully ascertained, though it is probable that
these effects must be very great; perhaps little as.
affecting the finene/s, but probably much more as af-
fecting the elasticity, ductility, and strength of the’
filament. This is therefore a very important. ob-
ject of experimental inquiry, as, upon the result of
these experiments, must be founded the propriety or
the inutility of many interesting particulars respec-
‘ting the management of this very usefud animal.
‘Here too it may be proper to observe, that although
the improvement of wool is the principal object of

the attention of the society, it ought not te be con- —

sidered so much the case as to preclude them from
making other uses of their experiments that fhould be
incidentally connected withit. In observing, forexam-
ple, the effect of variations of climate upon the wood, it

Sma

}

xyOr > _ amprovement ‘of fheep and wool. Ig

wotild be an easy matter at the same time to remark’
its effect on the health’ and vigour of the animal, as:
well as the effect that any variation of climate had in’
promoting or retarding its fattening, its generating’
tallow, the sweetnefs of the fiefo produced, and o-
ther particulars.
2. The effect of food in altering the finenefs and other
qualities of wool.
~ On this tiead opinions vary still. more than in res~,
pect to climate. Many persons believe, and ‘afsert, in
the most decisive tone, that rich pastures, turnip, and
other succulent food, tends irresistibly to debase the
quality of the wool, and, in particular, to render it of a
much coarser filament than the same fheep would other-
wise have preduced, Of course they infer that it is
vain’ever to hope to rear fine wool in the improved
fields of Britain, and that, if we with to have as fine
wool as formerly, we must break down our inclosures,-
and convert the rich pastures: inte barren heaths once
‘more. Others, on the contrary, maintain, and among
this clafs, I would rank myself, that it is only in rich
pastures that wool of the dest quality can ever be ob-
tained, and that fine pastures do not (independent of
other circumstances) render the wool either coarser
or finer in the filament, than it otherwise would have
been. Without changing the finenefs of the filament,
I think there is good reason to believe that abun-
dance of rich and succulent food - renders the wool
softer, stronger, tougher, and probably somewhat
longer also, than it would have been on barer pastures.
So'long, however, as these opposite opinions fhall
gest‘upon particular, observations of individuals only,

6 - improvement of foecp-gud.wool, Fuly 12»

who may.be very inaccurate, there is no ere wrangs
“ling and those who have. not been able ,to make
observations themselves, must range themselves

on the side that accident or inclination, may. lead

them to espouse. A few experiments accurately
‘made, and ney recorded, would for ever, ae this
regard to it ever pe

3. Exencise, what effect. bes. upor the quality. of si

wool,

Under. this ‘head I would indlude “pasanement in,
general, folding, housing, laying, (9c. Experiments on,
‘this head: have, been made in France; but not in such,
away as to prove entirely:decisive. It is alleged that
fheep are kept perpetually in the open air, which afford
the finest wool. The fact, however, is controverted
‘by some ; so that ‘here-experiments are’still wanting.
As to the effect of laying with tar, in particular, many
experiments have been made. that are sufficiently, .
decisive, were they all known; but as'others may be. *
-proposed, which .every individual could make for
‘himself at little or no trouhle or expence, perhaps
sthe most. effectual way to settle this point would. be
for the.society to digest a proper plan for conducting
these experiments, and publish. it for the. anfnernations
of all concerned.

The same may be said with respect tq the, 4th. md
sth objects of inquiry.

6. Connection between the size . of the. aniroal and

_ Sinenefs of the wool.

~ Prejudice has been forward in deciding ship: qppstios :
agithata czperiment. - It is ip. genexalwexy confident- —

54098. > on. poors. rates. AT
ly. afserted by many, that large theep, that carry much
wool, necefsarily, afford it-only of a coarse quality,
-and that fine wool can be expected from small fheep
fone. This, however, I venture to afsert, from
-abundant experience, is not true. I have had large
theep that afforded very fine wool, and exceeding
small ones that produced wool as coarse as goats
‘hair. -It is easy to find examples. ofthe reverse of
this. A judicious'set of experiments, therefore, which
-fhould set this matter in its ¢rue light would prove
highly useful to the inquiry in which we are engaged.
To be concluded in our next.

_
ta

‘OBSERVATIONS ON THE POORS RATES. -
‘Sir, To the Editor of the Bee.

“ly your, review of Sir John Sinclair’s statistics (Bee
pry ili. No. g.) there is an account of the poor of Dun-
ynichan the population of which is 872, being supported,
_and a great surplus saved of L. 20 a year, and this is
brought as a proof that the maintenance of the poor
smay be safely left to voluntary donations. If the
poor of the parith above named be sufficiently cloth-
_ed and fed, -it affords this proof indeed perfectly va-
did. I hall state the amount of the annual expendi-
ture of the poor of the parifh of Wigton in Cumber-
land, where the poor laws of England are inforced, to
.to be compared with that of Dunichen. The popula-
tion of the parifh of Wigton may be set at 3500, or
betwixt that. number and 4000, and the average ex-
penditure on the poor is,upwards of L. 500. -It must
be remarked, that this part of Cumberland is a place
where provisions are cheap ; and it is belieged, the

t

VOL. ix. ¢c Ay

18 on poors rates. Suly ii.

poor rates até much more heavy in thé South of Eng-
land. Is it not of such importance as that ¢ommif-
sioners fhould be appointed to examine whether the
-poor of Scotland or England are bettet fed; and so
to thew to what this great inequality in the provi-
sions for them is to be ascribed? Your most obedient

servant,
Wigton May, 8.1792. A. Roshvsow:

To the dbove I beg leave to add the following a¢-
count of a case respecting poors rates, extracted from
the annals of agriculture, by Arthur Young esq;
with the remarks of Mr Young upon it, as it fhows
ina still stronger light than the above, the baneful ef-
fects of the poor laws in England.

Dear Sir, To Arthur Young esq.

‘‘ Agreeable to your request, I have sent you ex-
tracts from the rate book and register of the parith
of Glemsford, fromthe year 1772 to 1790 inclusive.
‘I forbear to comment on the last four years ; I fhall
only observe, that in the first seven years of the pe-
-xiod above mentioned, 2 worthy magistrate, now no
<more (who was then resident in ‘the parifh,) gave
“anremitted attention to all the minutiz of parochial
‘busines ; and that from 1788 there has been no jus-
#ice nearer than four miles from the scene of action.”
Extracts from the register and rate book of the parifh

of Glemsford in the county of Suffolk.

‘ : ae Rates collected for the
Years. Baptisms. Burials. relief of the poor.

Ten ate, «Mei a
1772 35 44 678 5 8 2
2973 32 29 590 16 6 2
1774 ag 15 4044 5 8 2
1775 39 25 343.14 5 2
4776 39 31 455 7 4 2

5792 < ow poors rates. 19

‘ - c Rates.collected for thé
Years Bap tists. Burials. relief of the poor. ~
E.

a. Vai y
1777 32 30 82 18 3.9
1778 46 40. AY 16 8 2
1779 46 35 Grae’ 5""'2
14980 37 46 482 Ir 10 2
5781 3E 4e 549 16 8 0
1782 48 57 45 FIL 2
1783 53 36 586 3 6 2
1784 t 41 496 § 4 0°
1785 66 29 570 18 4° 2
1786. 46 22 607 17 6 @
1784, 73 50: 783 8 6 0
178' 48 47 ~948 11 4 2
1789 38 34 1039: 6. 4.0
4799 64 35 1062, 6. 4 2

Itis necefsary to observe, in these extracts, that
the register of baptisms and burials begins January.
ast, and ends December 31st in every. year ;. and:
that the rate book. includes.all.the sums collected an-
nually for the relief of the poor, from. Easter to Eas-
ter. The parith§ contains about 2409 * acres, and is
rated at about L. 1800 a-year. It. pofsefses L. 40 a+
year in estate or rent charge for the use of the poor.”

Your’s sincerely,
Wititam Butts.
Observations on:the above by Mr Young.

_ * Tue public are much obliged to this gentleman:

‘for bringing before their tribunal so amazing-an in~

stance of enormity in the rise of rates as this account;
exhibits. The table of deaths does not allow us. to,
attribute this effect to any uncommon fatality of dis-
temper; nor does the column of births allow any
conclusion that it arises from.a,great increase of po-
pulation. We know that it could not proceed: from.

© N. B. This amounts togs. per acre nearly; and including the L. 40
mentioned belew, it amounts to 105. per acre, Edit...

Xe) on poor's rates: July 11-
any rise in the price of provisions. To what'then is:
so truly alarming an increase of the public burdens
to be attributed? Clearly to those abuses in paro-
chial management, that flow from the grofs absurdity
of our system of poor laws, which give, or at least al-.
low, to evils of this complexion, so generative a faeul-
ty, that here is a rise of L. 276, in three years, appa-
rently for no better reason, than there having. beena
similar rise of L, 287, in, three preceding years:
That abuse was submitted to, and therefore produced.
the new one;‘ and if this is allowed, doubtlefs the
next period.will experience.a yet greater one. Whe-
ther paupers receive such sums, or whether parith of--
ficers eat, drink, or’ otherwise dbsorb them, is not:
for me to enquire; the evil is the same in either! |
case, and will equally generate: increase.

* But what are we to think of a legislature and!
system of government which tolerate such abuses-?
which, by giving to parifh officers, and justices of the’
peace, {and seemingly in this case to parith officers
alone,) an unlimited power of taxation, allows, and.
sanctions such abominable tyranny as this account
exhibits! Doubtlefs there are little farmers in this:
parifh, who are heavily and cruelly burdened, either:
to support sturdy. beggars, who can, but will not
work, andwhoare richer in fact than themselves; or’
to contribute to the illicit profits of men, who-thrive’
by abuses thus tolerated by the legislature of a coun-’
try that calls itself free.’ AW Y:

Additional observations by the Editor.
~ Tue amazing amount: of the poors rates-in Eng-
land, and their continued rise, afford the most seri-
ous alarm to every thinking .person. in that. king-~

F927 on poors rates. it:
dom*. ‘The misfortune is, that great'as the sums col-
lected for the poor are, the complaints of the deficien-
ey of the poors funds, and the necefsity of augmen-
ting them still farther, is as great as ever it was. The
truth is, that, under the operation of these laws, the
honest and industrious are pillaged, and the idle and:
abandoned part of the community encouraged to prac-
tise vice and prodigal difsipation. No wonder then
if the late chancellor (Thurlow,) when he heard of
an application that was intended to be made by the
magistrates of a city in Scotland, for a power to afsefs
the people with a poors rate, fhould afk with some
kind of surprise, “ If the people of Scotland were
gone mad !” For he thought that nothing but insanity
could induce any body of men, having the example
of England before their eyes, to wifh to: load them-
selves with such an opprefsive burden as the poors:
rate. Happy it is for Scotland that no poor rate
can be legally imposed: on. its mhabitants without a
new act of parliament for the purpose +; and happier

» * By accoun's laid before ‘parliament in the year 1786, it appeared

that the poors rates in England, «ano 1776, amounced on the whole to!
L. 1,529,780.
And in the year 1786, they were no lefsthan” - - - - eee

, L. 755,124.
So that in the course of nine years only, the poors rates in: England had

arisen seven hundred and fifty-five thous and one hundred ard. twen\y-four
pounds per annum. At the same rate. of increase, the poors-rates in half
a century would greatly excced the whole land rents of England. The
poors rates in Wales were more than doubled in these nine years.

The reader will-observe that great as these sums, are, it is only a far?
of the funds allotted to the support of the poor in England; as all monies
mortified for charitable purpcses, or other charitable funds, are not includ-d
init. These additional funds, by a late account given in to phine ily
égual the poors rates. nearly. :

+ Many persons will think I here speak rathly. It is however said
with due consideration; as I hope to be able to prove to the satisfaction of
the reader at some future period, - - ~ > -

2% on poors tates. Fuly the.
still is it for her, that, from an expetience of near
two hundred years, fhe finds, that, under a wise and
simple mode of economy, which fhe has discovered,
in the management of the poor, fhe is able, by vo-.
luntary contributions alone, to support her poor as
well as the state of the case requires, without having:
recourse to any legal compulsitor.

The poors laws in England may furnifh one of the
most satisfactory lefsons in political ec onomy that:
can be any where met with. Nothing could be more
deserving the applause of men than the principle.
which suggested these regulations. Justice and be-
nevolence, humanity and prudence, seemed for once tg
have been united inlending their aid tothis institution.
No evil that could be foreseen was not carefully guar-.
ded against ; and the framers of these laws exulted
in the thought that they had attained toa perfection
in beneficent legislation, that had never before been:
experienced on the globe. Wisdom and humanity.
triumphed over niggardly parsimony, and churlifh
selfifhnefs ; such was the idea universally entertain-
ed of this important political regulation by all the
thinking part of mankind, when new adopted. Not
adifsenting voice was to be heard, and universal sa-.
tisfaction resounded through the whole land. How
circumscribed is the wisdom of man! How misera-
bly different have been the real effects, from what
were expected to result from this regulation !—men
‘were not more unanimous ¢hen in praise of it, than.
they now are in condemning it. What appeared ix
prospect so infinitely attractive, has proved in reality
inconceivably destructive. It will be well if this
striking example of the fallacy of relying on specu-
lative principles, in regulating the practical concerns of

T7992. _ BROS rites,
man, fhould teach him, in similat tases, to listen to
the’ Critical improyements with diffidenté and cau-
‘tion, however plausible. It is practice, only, which can
@scertain what will be hurtful or beneficial in regula-
‘tions that are to affect the community at large.

In regard to the case in question, it has been found,
that, to guard against abuses in the execution of the
poor laws, has been impofsible; though, to protect the
tights of individuals, in a country where ideas of li-
‘berty prevail, it has been necefsary to multiply ré-
gulations to such a degree as to occasion an intricacy
that cannot be unravelled. There are about twenty
statutes, and 2000 cases, regulating the Various me-
thods by which a legal establifhment can be obtained
‘in a parifh *, and many of these cases, and others, ré-
Specting the poors laws, are so nearly alike, that it is
“often the subject of a tedious law suit to discover
whether or not a particular regulation applies to
the subject in dispute.

In proportion as out rights come to be more
accurately defined, this clafs of evils must be augmen-
‘ted ; so that it is easy to see that a time will arrive,
when this unweildy fabric, from a-vain attempt to
render it perfect, must become a source of intole-
table opprefsion. It begins to be already felt ; but
‘the evils, as’yet experienced, are nothing to what is
‘to be expected. .

Once more, then, I repeat it, Scotland may deem
herself singularly happy in being freed from this
grievous political malady ; and, being free, it becomes
the duty of every well-wither of his country to watch

_® For this fact Iam indebted to a censible wtiter iti the St James's
Phiovicle for June 16. 1792.

a4 ..0n poors rates. Fuly 11«
-over ‘that freedom with the most jealous attention;
.and, under no pretext. whatever, to suffer this most in-
tolerable, abuse to creep in among us.. Iam proud
in being able to say, that, asa private citizen,I have,
in one instance, succefsfully opposed it, and preserved
.a very extensive parifh from. being heedlefsly sub-
jected to this. burden; nor fhall f.,cease in a public
capacity, to. take every proper opportunity of war-
ning my countrymen of the,danger they run of total
ruin, fhould they, ever allow themselves ..to be load-
ed with a poors rate. .I have promised an-explanation
-of our poor laws. in Scotland; and J now again re-
peat the promise, when opportunity. fhall permit,
which I trust will, be ere long. I consider this tafk
_as necefsary, not only to, remove many ill founded
_prejudices that have begun to prevail respecting the
legality of establifhing compulsory poors rates in Scot~
land; but also to explain to those of other nations
the very salutary tendency of that judicious mode of
managing the poor, which has been discovered by a
_people, among whom luxury had not been introduced,
nor those vices known which tend to. contaminate
the manners and corrupt the hearts.of men, in the
bustling departments of a manufacturing society. It
was among a people whose manners’ were simple,
that this easy, economical, and efficacious, mode of
providing for the poor was devised ; and which, after
an experience’ of two hundred years, has been found —
to be perfectly adequate to the purposes intended.
A system, which being founded on Christian charity
alone, by its natural operation, tends to promote;a
cordial good will and kindnefs between different q
ganks of men, and without Icgal intricacies to pro~ |

mote the good of the whole. J. As

rt

POETRY.

THE LOTTERY. A TALE FORTHE LADIES,.
For the Bee.

Dum splendeat—frangitur.

War Fancy in-her brain’s recefs,
Draws out the plan of happinefs,

And Hope, with many a winning smiley’.
Uprears the visionary pile,

Ah me! that fate, with envious frown, -
Should hurl the airy fabric down.

How ojt our fav’rite projects are
Ge’rturn’d, in spite of all our care!

This story ,unexaggerated,;

Will: partly tell ye when related :— -

A gentle nymph whose madding veins,
Were fill’d with warm and sanguine streams¢. 5
That ran much higher than her means,
And fil?d her head with airy schemes,
Contriv’d in Goodluck’s grand affair,
With other friends to get a fhare..
Not-all-the-arts the yet hed tried

To gratify her soaring pride;

Not all her schemes of mortal blifs;

Had mov'd her hopes and fears like this; --
“Nor, so impatient, for the day

That crowns the cares of long delay

The lover waits, in anxious doubt,

As Laura for the time, I trow, ~
When the huge-wondrous wheel turns ovt’
Its prizes and its blanks a!so.

At length came on-in proper place,

The day which must decide her case:
*°At last, ye gods! the-hour is Come,
(She eries) which marks my future doom},
Whether aloft to fame I go,
‘Or here remain in statu guo 5

Whether in majestic state,

Ismile at all the frowns of fate 3 .

Or here debas’d I sigh in vain,

‘To soar above the vulgar train.

But hence! such soul-tormenting care,
And-ev’ry thadow of despair ;

The heart from fortune meets denial,“
That meanly fhrinks before the trial 3
VOL. Xs D- +

26.

poetry,

But native pride and genuine merit,

Ever fhows a’brave and daring spirit

O gentle Hope ’tis thou that chears
My mind from all its doubts and fears ;
>Tis thou that in a golden dream,

Didst kindly prompt my fav’rite-scheme 5 ~

>T was then, methought, Iheard thee say,
¢ Let ambition fire thy mind ;

Thy soul so great, thy form so gay,

Were not for humble ranks design’d: +

For thee the partial hand of fate,

Will soon prepare’a nobler state 5

For thee. the lofty dome fhall rise,

And proudly scale the vaulted fkies ;
For thee the coach fhall scour along,
And servants wait,—a num‘rous throng!
For thee fhall troops of lovers sigh,

And from the lustre of thine eye
Delicious poison drink, and feel

' +A fesring wound which nought can heal,

Except thy love created smile,

Which only dimples to beguile:

‘Then dare to scorn thy humble sphere,
And nobly spurn it with disdain;

While the mean cringing soul fhall fzar,
And proud oneg envy you in.vain.”

© Ye gods! O extacy divine!

And hall these honours then be mine?~__
"Chey must! they must!—and here I Sweat.
‘Yen silver altars will Lrear;
And yearly, on each polifh’d head,
Arabic odours will I fhed
In honour of- But hark! I hear
The post-boy!—-Welcome! doubly dear! |
Here! here the packets bring, the said,
And eagerly, the fheets outspread ;
When ah! the gods,;—O tale of woe!

Receive a curse, instead of thanks;
And Laura’s vision breaks.—For lo!

t once the prizes all prove BLANKs?

Henceforward, O ye gentle fair,
To prudence be your minis attach’d 5
Of Fancy’s airy dreams beware, ;
Nz count your chickens exe they’re hatch*d,
Gok.

7
L792. anecdotes of Fontaine. Ptr]

=

.CHARACTERISTICAL ANECDOTES OF LA FONTAINE.

Tis natural-for those who read the works of men of ge.
-nius, to think that the writers of these excellent perfor-
- miances fhouid be endowed with talents, in every respect
- superior to the common run of mankind : Nothing can be
more delusive than such expectations. Man is an imper-

- fect creature, and though’ heaven-sometimes confers upon
> individuals, talents of-a certain kind, in a super-eminent de-’
_. gree, it is seldom that any one man pofsefses a great vari-
ety of talents in’ unusual perfection. It oftener hap-
- pens that men’ who are endowed with the singular faculty
of excelling’in one kind. of composition, are remarkably
deficient in other respects. It would seem that when a
. man’s mind ‘is so-totally engrofsed with one object, as to
-enable him to carry that particular object of pursuit to an
extraordinary degree of perfection, it was necefsarily ab-’

- stracted from others; so that4t often happens that’ the
faculty called common sense, which is that of deliberately
comparing with:one another. the objects that occur in
«common life, and drawing just inferences from them, for
regulating the ordinary transactions of life, seems to be
» entirely obliterated in these:men.

La Fontame, the'celebrated fabulist-in France, affords
a*remarkable illustration ef the truth of this remark. E-
very person in the.least versant in French literature is ac-
quainted with ‘the :writings of this author, which polsefs,
in an-unequalled degree, an ease, an elegance, a natural un-
affected simplicity, both in thought and‘exprefsion, that
other ‘writers have in’ vain ‘attempted to imitate. Vet
this’ man, though endowed with the singular faculty of
writing in a manner that no-cther person has jyet been

able to attain, was so remarkably deficient in the article
4

¢

28: anecdotes of Fontaine. July 3.
of common sense, that, in the ordinary transactions of life,
he was scarcely to be distinguifhed from an idiot. The fol-
lowing anecdotes of this singular genius, can scarcely prove

uninteresting to any one who. withes to become acquainted _

with the human character.
Jean de la Fontaine, a French poet, was born at Chateau
Thiery in 1621, died at Paris in 1695, aged 74 years.
_ Fontaine lived in a sort of apathy, and a decided indiffe-
rence for every thing that forms the objects of the pur-
‘suit of most men, This system of conduct would have
done honour to his philosophy, if reflection had cccasio-
ned it; but it was in him a gift of nature, He was born
gentle and easy, without pride, incapable of hatred, and
free from the pafsions which tyrannise over the soul, Happy
would society be if it were only composed of men like
him! there would neither be'troubles nor divisions. It
is true he did not add to the,pleasures of society. Those
who saw him, without knowing him, had no other idea of
him than of a man who was both disagreeable and very
tiresome. He spoke little, and unlefs they spoke of some~
+hing that was to his liking, he remained ina stupid silence,
-which one would have taken for an indication of idiotism.

if he told a tale, he told it ill; and that author who had.

written stories so natural and so lively, interested nobody
when he related one. There are other examples which

-prove that with much wit, and a variety of talents, one.

“may not have the talent of cenversation.

A farmer.general had invited la Fontaine to dine with
him, in the persuasion that .an author whose tales all the
world admired, could not fail to be amusing in society.
Fontaine ate, spoke none, and rose very soon, under
pretext of going to the academy. They told him it was,
not yettimes J £nowit, replied he, so L/hall take the longer
wme.

‘rayzs “anecdotes of Fontaine, Bs)
. Although every kind of confinement was contrary to the
‘taste of Fontaine, he allowed himself however to marry;
but he only determined on it'in complaisance to his’ rela-
tions. ‘Khey made him espouse Mary Hericard, daughter
-of a lieutenant .general de /a.\Ferte-Milon. -This lady had
wit and beauty, but her difficult humour had driven away
‘her husband, who was come to Paris to live in: hissowa
way. He had perhaps totally forgotten her, when he was per-
‘suaded'to go to his province, to see his wife and be-recon-
ciled to her. He set out, insconsequence, from Paris in
‘the public stage, arrived at his house, and asked for his
wife. The servant, who did-not know him, told him that
his mistrefs was at evening prayers. Fontaine’ went di-
rectly to the ‘house of a friend, who.gave him ‘supper
and a bed, ‘and kept him for two days; when the:coach -
was ready to return -to Paris, Fontaine got into it, and
thought no more of his wife. When his friends of Paris
-saw him. return, they afked him news of /his reconciliation ;
J went.to see my wife, said ie but I did not find her ; fhe
“was at prayers.

There never was a man who believed what was told him
so easily : Witnefs-his adventure with a captain of dra«
-goons named Poignan. ‘This officer used to-be often in
‘the house of Fontaine, and was particularly pleased with
‘the conversation of his wife, whose society was very agree-
-able. Poignan was neither of an age, humour, nor figure,
“to disturb the peace of a-husband. However, people told
stories ef him to Fontaine, and told him he was difhonou-
red ifhe did not fight the captain. Struck with that idea, he
‘(got up very early in the morning, goes to the house of his

man, wakens him, bids him drefs and follow him. Poignan,
who did not know what all this meant, went out with
him, They arrived at a remote corner, out of the city: «
LZ wifh to fight 19°) you have been advised tott, said Fon- >

oo) anecdotes of Fontaine. “July th.
taine ; and after having explained the reasons of it to-him
in-a few words, he drew his sword without waiting the
“answer of Poignan, who put himself on the defensive.
‘Fhe combat was not long, Poignan disarmed him at the

frst. Fontaine was satisfied. Poignan conducted him.

home, and they were. reconciled at breakfast.
Fontame had a son whom he kept very fhort time with
him. He put him at fourteen years of age into the hands

of M. de Harlay, since first president, and recommended to —

him his education, and his fortune. It is said-that Fon-
taine went one day to a house where this son was, whom
he had not’seen for a long time. He did not know him,
-and told the company, however, that he thought he
had wit and taste. When he was told it was his son,
he answered calmly: Ah! I am very glad of it.

Another anecdote about Fontaine may still serve to
prove that every man who applies himself to study through
taste, lives ina manner-insulated in the midst of the world.
Hence these natural and -inattentive answers which -so of-
‘ten furnith people of middling talents with pretexts to ri-
dicule genius. Fontaine had received an invitation to go
to the burial of.a person of his acquaintance. Some time
afterwards he went to dine with that same person. The

. %

porter told him that his master was dead eight days ago: |

sib! replied he, I did not think that it. bad been so long.
Rabelais, whom Despreaux called reason in a mash, was

always the idol of Fontaine. He was the only author.

whom he admired without reserve. He was one day at.

Despreaux’s house with Racine, Boileau, and several other
persons of distinguifhed merit. They there spoke a good

deal about St Augustine, and his works. Fontaine did .

not join in the conversation, but kept the most stupid like
silence. At last he awakened, a3 from a most profound
“sleep, and afked, in a very serious manne, of the abbé

P7H27 anecdotes of Fontaine: ; RES
Bojleau, if he thought St Augustine had as much wit as
Rabelais, so natural and so amusing? The doctor, looking
at him. from. head to foot, told him, for answer, Take care
M. de la Fontaine ;—you have put one of your stockings ous
side in, which was the case. :

Mr Racine carried him on the holy week toa Tene-
bres, and perceiving that the-office appeared long-to him,
he gave him, to arause him, a volume ofthe Bible, which
contained the prophets. He read the prayer of the Jews
in Baruch ;, and not beiag able. to satisfy himself admiring
it, he said to Racine, Baruch was a fine genuis! Who was
he? Next day, and several days afterwards, when he met-

» any body of his acquaintance ina the street, after the ordi

nary compliments, he raised his voice to. say, ‘ Have you.
read Baruch? He was a great genius *!’

The author of these memoirs, M. Racine the son, says
that Fontaine, after having. consumed his fortune, preser-
ved always his disinterestednefs. He entered the French-
academy one day, and the bar being. drawn below the
names, he could not, according to establifhed custom, have,
any fhere inthe medals of that sitting. The academici-
ans, who all loved. him, said unanimously, that.they ought
to make an exception of the rule in his favour : ‘No, gentle-
men; said -he, that would net-be just-; I am come too late,
that is my fault.’» Which was so much the more remarked,
that a moment before, an academician, extremely rich, and
who, living in the Louvre, had only,the trouble of coming,
down stairs to get to the academy, had half opened the

_ door, and having seen that he was too late, had fhut the

door, and gone up again.

Fontaine preferred the fables of the ancients to his
_ Gwn, which made M. de Fontenelle say, da Fontaine is fovl-
ifh enough ta think that the ancients had more wit than him-

® Memoirs of Jean Racin:

32" anecdotes of Fontaine. July 1h -
self, a-phrase, says la Mote, which exprefses finely the
character of a superiour genius, who does not know him--
self, for want of examining himself with enough of attenti-
on. On reading the fables of this- author, one remarks
such a-native ease, that’: we would think they had fallen -
from his-pen, which made-madame de la Sabliere coll him:
a fablier, as they call the tree that carriers apples pomener, .
This superiour woman, with whom he ledged, said one-
day, after having dismifsed her servants,. ‘1 have only
kept with me my three animals, my dog, my cat, and my
Fontaine.’ :

Racine and Despreaux-called him the.goodman, although » °
they knew all his: worth m other. respects. At asupper-
at Moliere’s house, where was also Descoteaus the famous:
player on the-fiute, the goodman appeared to, dream more
than ordinary. Despreaux: and: Racine endeavoured in’ :
vain to awake him by. lively sallies. ‘They even pufhed:
the raillery so far; that Moliere thought they were going
beyoud bounds; at leaving the table, he took Descoteaux.
aside into the embrasure of a window, and talking to him
in the freedom of his heart :. “ It is in vain, said he, that:
our beaux esprits.make-a bustle, they will not efface the.
goodman,”

That poet lived in an-extreme indifference with respect:
to religious, as well as other matters ;. but having fallen-ill:
he set about reading the New Testament. Charmed with:
that reading, he said to father Poujet,. of the oratoire; his
director, ‘ lafsure you the New Testament is a very,
good’ book ;. yes; in truth, it is a very good book; . but
there is one article concerning: which I am not altogether:
reconciled, it isthat of the eternity of punifhment; Ido. —
not comprehend how: thatreternity can. be. consistent witf
the goodnels of Ged.?

1792. ancodotes of Fontaine. - 33
Some time before, one of his friends, who undoubtedly
had his conversion very much at heart, had Jent him his
St Paul. Fontaine read it with avidity ” but fhocked at:
‘the apparent harfhnefs of the writings-ef the apostle, he
fut the book, sent it back to his friend, and said to him,
‘I send_you back your book; .this same St Paul is not
-my man.” cartes:
_ Qne of his confefsors seeing him taken dangerously ill,
exhorted him at least to make amends for the scandal of ~
his life by giving alms. ‘I cannot, said the poet. I have
‘nothing; but they are-making a new edition of my ‘works,
~and the opkecller j is to make me’a present of an hundred
copies, I give them to you; you will cause them to be
-sold for the benefit of the.poor.* Don Jerome, who told
‘this anecdote, @eclared that the confefsor, almost as
‘simple as the penitent; came to afk if he could receive
such an alms? .

Still one other trait which proves the simplicity of manners
vof this illustrious man, and the idea which those-who ser-
»ved him had ofhim. The sick-nurse who was beside him,

seeing with what zeal they exhorted him to penitence, said
“one day tg Mr Poujet, Don's torment him so much ; he is
more faolifh than wicked. God will never have, said fhe ano-
\ther time, the. heart to damn him.

In spite of the apparent apathy of la Fontaine, when he
“was wakened out of his dreams, and when he was interes-
‘ted in the conversation, he fhewed as much heat and spi-
rit, as those who used to make bim the object of their

tyaillury.

After his death, ihe wife having as troubled for the
“payment of some’ public charges, M. d’Armenonville then
“intendant de Soifsons, wrote to his deputy, that the fami-

* VObe X. E ; t

a ‘petition of the fourks. — . July 1%.
ly of la Fontaine ought to be exempt for the future ofall
taxes and imposts; all the intendants of Soslsons have
«since made it an neg to confirm that favour.

.

*

“Tue Peririon of THE Suarks or AFRIca.

~The following jeu d’esprit deserves to be preserved, both on account of

the delicacy of the satireit conveys, and the elegance of its composi-
\ tion.

’For the sake of our foreign readers, it may be proper briefly to mention,
that, for more than three years past, the abolitionof the slave trade, car-
ried on from the coast of Africa to the West India islands, by Britith
subjects, has been warmly agitated in the parliament of Britain: That
a committee of the House of Commons was appointed to examine wit-
nests on that head, who having sat long, during two succefsive sefsions

«of parliament, and collected a great body of evidence, the same was
_printed for the information of themembers. But as this consisted of a
large volume in folio, an abridgement of the whole was made and
printed, also for the use of the members. Several abridgements of this
abridgement were afterwards made and publithed. These were sent
‘ through every partof the nation ; and the people, in general, having read
these publications, warmly espoused the part of the abolition. Petitions
were presented to parliament from almost every description of men in the
kingdom, praying that this traffic, which they deemeda disgrace to hu-
manity, and a reproach to the name of Christians, might be abolifhed.
The House of Commons having taken these petitions into consideraticn,
came, in a committee of the whole house, during the present sefsion of
«parliament, to a resolution; that the slave trade was improper to be con- —
tinued, but that, on account of certain considerations of expediency, it
ought only to be gradually abolifhed. A law to this effect was pafsed,
permitting the trade, under certain limitations, to be carried on till the —
xst of January 1796, after which time jt fhould be totally prhohibited.
“When this bill was carried to the House of Peers, they found it vas not
consistent with the dignity ot that house to admit of any evidence that
hhad not been taken at their own bar}; and of course they went once mare ~
jnto the examination of witnefses; and as this examination could not be
“closed during the present sefsion of parliaetent, the bill is necefsarily
lost for the present year. The Allusions to these circumstances in this
Jittle performance will be easily perceived by every reader.

3992 petition of the barks. ae

SHEWETH,
*Tuar your petitioners are a numerous lade and at pre-
sent ina very flourifhing situation, owing chiedly to the
constant visitation of the fhipping of your island.

“* That by hovering round these floating dungeons your
petitioners are supplied with large quantities of their most
favourite food—human. fleth.*

“ That your petitioners are sustained, not only by the
carcases of those who have fallen by distempers, but are:
frequently gratified with rich repasts from the bodies of
living negroes, who voluntarily plunge into the abodes-of ©

_ your. petitioners; preferring instant destruction by their
jaws, to the imaginary horrors of a lingering slavery.

«That among the enormous - breakers and surfs which
roll on the fhores of your petitioners, numbers of Englith
boats are destroyed, the crews of which usually fall to
their lot, and afford them many a delicious meal; but, a-
hove all, that large-velsels, crowded with negroes, are some-
4imes dafhed on the tocks and shoals, which abound in the -
regions of your petitioners, whereby hundreds» of human
beings, both black and white, are at once precipitated into
their element, where the gnawing of human flefh, and the -
eralhing of bones, afford to. your. petitioners the highest
gratification which their-natures are capable of enjoying.

__ “ Thus benefited, as your petitioners are, by this widely.
extended traffic, a trafic which has never before been me-
Jested, it is withthe utmost indignation they hear that
there are in Britain, men who, under the specious plea of «
humanity, are endeavouring to acomplifh. its abolition. —
But your petitioners trust that this attempt at innovation,
this flourifhing of the trumpet of liberty, by which “‘ more
is meant than meets the.ear,” will be.effectually frustrated.

** Should the lower branch .of the legislature be so far

infatuated by this new-fangled humanity, as serigusly to

56 petition of the fbarkss. Jaly rth.
meditate the destruction of this beneficial commerce, your
petitioners have the firmest reliance on thé wisdom and
fellow-feelings of the lords epinine and temxporal of Great
Britain.

“ Your petitioners know, that the truly benevolént:
that they will not sacrifice one

will ever be consistent,
part of animated nature to the preservation of another,—
that they will not suffer fharks to starve, in-order*that ‘ne-

“groes may be happy ; yet your petitioners are ‘appre>’
hensive, that the baleful influence of this philanthropic:
mania is already felt even within the walls of your lord-
fhips, wherefore they crave ta be HEARD BY. couNsEL, at the
bar of your august afsembly, when, notwithstanding. the
wild ravings of fanaticism, they hope to evince, that the
sustenance of fharks, and the best interests of your lords
fhips, are intimately connected with the traffic in-human._
fleths — a

“ Fearful of Letina tedious, your petitioners have.’
only to add, that, fhould the abolition take place, which:
the god of harks avert! the prosperity. of your petitioners.
will inevitably be destroyed,: and their numbers, by being
deprived of their accustomed’ food, rapidly diminifhed.—
‘But, on the other hand, fhould’ your lerdfhips,-in your le»
cislative capacity, scorn the feelings of the vulgar, and no-
bly intérfere, either openly, or by procrastination, to pre-
serve this invigorating trade from the ruin. that now
seems to await it, your petitioners, and their wide-mouthed
posterity, as by nature utged, will ever, ever prey, Ge.”

——

EXTRACTS FROM COXE’s TRAVELS. _
Sie er. To the Editor of the Bee.

I roox the following extracts from Coxe’s travels into |
Poland, Rufsia, &’c. they may perhaps recoramehd them-»
selves to a place in your miscelfény.

T1792 extracts from Coxe’s travels. Se
“The first Polifh noble who granted freedom to his’.
peasants, was Zamoiski; formerly great chancellor, who, i
¥760, enfranchised six villages in the’ palatihate of Maso-
via. These villages were, in 1774, visited by the author:
of the patriotic letters, from whom I received the follow-
ing information. ‘ On inspecting the parifh registers of
births from 1758 ‘to 1768 *, that’ is, during the ten years
of slavery, immediately preceding their enfranchisement,
he found the number of births 424, im the first’ ten years
of their freedom, from 1760 to 1770, 620, and from 1770.
to the beginning of 1777, 585.” Upon signing the deed
of enfrancHisement of the six villages, their- benevolent
master intimated some apprehensions to‘the inhabitants;
that, encouraged by their freedom, they’ fhould’ fall into
‘every species of licentiousneis, and commit more-disorders
than when they-were slaves. The simplicity of their an¢
_swer ig remarkable. ‘ When we had-no other property,”
returned they, ‘than the stick which we held in our
ands, we were destitute of all encouragement toa righit
conduct, and, having nothing to lose, acted og all occasi-
ons in an inconsiderate manner 3) but as soon as sour hou-
ses, our lands, and our cattle are our own, the fear of for:
feiting them will be a constant restraint upon our actions.”
« "The sincerfty of this’afsestion was manifested by the
event. While they-were m a state of servitude, Zas
moiski was’ occasionally obliged to pay fines for disorders
eommitted"by his peasants, who, im a state’ of drunkennefs;
would attack and’ sometimes kill pafsengers ; ; since: their
freedom he hes seldom received any complaints of this
spstsagainst them. Zamoiski, pleased with the theiving
state of the six villages, hao enfranchised the peasants on
all his estates.” : :
Our author says, Zamoiski’s example has been followed
by another noblemai, and a.clergyman, with similar succels,

# I suppose this fhould be from 1748 to 2753.

a

+ extracis fram Coxe’s travels. July Ph
“ Prince Stanislaus,” proceeds our author,» “ nephew
to the king of Poland, ,has warmly patronised this plan,
and has entranchised four villages, not far from Warsaw,
in which he,has not only emancipated the peasants from
their slavery, but.even condescends to- direct their affairs.
He explaiaed to me, in the most’ satisfactory manner, that’
the grant of freedom was no lefs advantageous to the
lord*than. to the peasants, provided: the former is. wil-
ling to superinterd their conduct for afew years, and to
put ‘them in a way of acting for themselves; for such is
the ignorance among the-generality of the boors arising
fromthe abject slavery in. which they’ are. held, and so
little have they been usually left to their own discretion,
that few. at first are equal to the proper hanagement of a
farm, From.a conviction of these facts, the prince——-
continues his attention to their concerns; he visits their”
cottages, suggests improvements in agriculture, instructs |
themiin the mode of rearing cattle and. bees, and points.
out the errors into.which ignorance and incapacity occasi-
onally betray them.”
_ This leads us-to reflect how great an enemy slavery:
is to the safety, and happinels of mankind, (as well those:
who tyrannise, as those who are the objects of tyranny,)
as well as to the:improvement of the-human mind. Those
persans.are certainly highly. deserving of esteem, who, devi- -
ating from the general practice: of any country, and break-
ing the fetters of education and prejudice, set the ex;
ample af delivering frem bondage any of the human race.

* See such arguments as this, inthe mouth-of h's uncle, the élo-
quent Stanislaus Augustus, his present majesty, induced a diet consisting
_ Of Poliff nobility, to admit the third estate to privileges, formerly enjoyed
# only by thé former 3.aad thus cfiertedit the prescnt wonderful happy revo-
lution. : 4

! -

2992. extracts from Orne’s travels. 39
At is at once the honour and interest of all in such cir-
cumstances to imitate such an example*

It would certainly be nolishonour to our nobility and
gentry, during the intervals of public busines, to imitate
the example of this truly great and amiable prince. From
‘the above extract, it is evident that licentiousnefs is not
“the necefsary effect of a transition from slavery to free-
-dom. This depends on the manner in ‘which the change
is effected. If slaves acquire their freedom by dint of
power, they naturally revenge themselves on those who
deprived them of that which they have a right to,—free-
-dom. But if liberty is given to them voluntarily, by
those who might have continued their bondage, they, feel-
ing the happy effects of freedom, will look up with vene-
neration to their deliverer, will make his interest their’s,

i and will sacrifice much to.defend him.
A FRIEND TO LIBERTY}.

* I would not be understood as an advocate for the immediate emanci-
-pation of tur slaves in the West Indi¢s. I confefs, I with for it as soon
-as prudence will admit. Giving them their freedom in a proper manner
is no way dangerous.
+ However much J may applaud the beneficent spirit of this correspor-
dent, or however much I may be satisfied of the general principle that
\ freedom, under a ptoper government, is the best means of ensuring pro-
>priety of moral conduct, as well as exertions of industry; yet-I fear more
circumstances require to be adverted to than he seems to be aware of, to
guard against the delirium that must in general acompany a direct emancipa-
tion. Like men in the lowest ranks of life, and in the most abject pover-
ty, who at once obtain pofsefsion ofimmens- wealth, arid who, in general,
squander it in the most extravagant and absurd species of difsipation, it is
to be feared, that something of the same kind would be felt on the event
-of an abrupt emancipation. To render it a real blefsing to the ycrsons
who are intended to be benefited by it, it certainly onght to be very gra-
Auabindeed. The example of the boors in Poland, if Mr Coxe’s informa-
ton can be relied upon, is the most striking thing of the kind I have met
with. Indeed the whole of the political events that have of late taken
| -place in Poland, appear to me the most extraordinary of any that have
‘ever appeared in the world, and I fhall wait for an explanation of the ratio-
* vale of these with great impatience, The revolution in France is com-
_ paratively nothing to it, Edit.

go .* “to correspondents. June VE.

TQ CORRESPONDENTS.

‘Tue sensible remarks on taxation, from Trader Political, are received,
and fhall be duly attended to. When investigations of this nature are
carried on with temper, without being intended to excite uselefs alarms or
sunmeaning discontent, but merely to point out unobserved inconveniences,
that they may be properly corrected, they cannot fail to prove beneficial.
‘Iris such disquisitions the Editor wifhes to ges not those of a
‘splenetic, or-capticus and declamatory nature. The farther communicati~
-ons of this correspondent will be very acceptable.

The lines by Phebus are come to hand. he Editor is much obliged
‘to this writer for his good opinion, which he will study to deserve. This
young poet has inadvertently varied his measure; on this, and some other
accounts, it will require to be attentively revised before it be fit for the
‘public eye. It is impofsiblé too often to repeat, that Superiour excel

- lence alone in poetry can reflect honour on the writer.

The sonnet by 4. J. will be inserted as soon as pofsible.

The favour of 4, M. M. is come to hand, he will please be«informed,
that the Editor is so far in arrears to many of his correspondents that ir |
4s impofsible for him to comply with their withes for a Tong time. This J
is the sole reason of the ey a

The gleanings from B. d. are thankfully abs ag and fhall be duly
attended to.

The anonymous lettter containing remarks on the paper of AlCtZ.
sis also received. Irony is a delicate weapon, which requires to be handled

' with great addrefs, if it is to be productive of much effect. The writer
does not seem to be perfectly master of that weapon, and therefore his
piece is improper for this miscellany. ‘The query fhall be inserted in the

+first spare corner.

The piece signed: Grumble Grumlde, comes nearly under the same des-

cription with the above, but is written rather in a-better manner, Jt —

may pofsibly find a place.
The favour of Albanicus is thankfully received.
The paper signed ZL. Junius Brutus,-reached the Editor the evening
- before the meeting for whose use it was intended. It was therefore im~
pofsible to employ ir as he wifhed. Correspondents will please observe,
_ that it is not practicable, im general, to insert any communication in the
‘Bee, that does not come to hand at least a fortnightbefote the day of pub-
lication of the number in which it is inserted.

The communication by Regidus came too late for insertion. We believe
he either has been imposed on himself,~or meant to impose., The pos-—
tage Sught to have been paid. Thisis the third uselefs letter, if we arenot
~mistaken, we have feceived from this writer, postage not paid.

Misobrentes’s favour is received, it will appear if pofsible next num~

-ber.
A Phenix Hunter is received ved under consideration, we have ‘seen
‘him waite much better. . ’

\

ine 83.

THE SEE;

OR

_“ EITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER,

WEDNESDAY, JULY 19. 1792.

SKETCH OF THE LIFE

ISN E.OF BUCHAN, CON STABLE OF FRANCE.

BY ALBANICUS,
Continued from p. 8.

Ov the return of the earl of Buchar to Scotland, he was
received with high exultation by his country and by
his uncle the regent; and when, after the great force
‘which was employed by the regent, duke. of Bedford,
in France, the affairs of Charles at the battle of Cre. -
rvant took an unfavourable turn, he was again sent
by the council of the regency of Scotland into France,
-with a large reinforcement to-the aid of the king, in
which his father-in-law, the earl of Douglas, who
“was created a marifhal of France and duke of Tou-
-raine, was second in command. It was-agreed by a
treaty, negociated on the part of Charles by the arch-
bifhop of Rheims, that no peace thould be made with
“England without the participation, or consent of
‘rance, At the same time Charles conferred the
county of Evreux, and the lordthip of Aubigny, on
VOL. X. F t

42 life of Yohn earl of Buchan. Fuly 18.
Sir John Stuart of Darnley, who had officiated as pro-
constable for Buchan, and had commanded the oe
of Scots auxiliaries in his absence, '

The duke of Bedford was no lefs active in obtain-
ing reinforcements to his army from England ; and,

by freth levies made in France and in Burgundy, the

war was renewed with frefh vigour. Bedford chose
for the scene of his action, in person, that part of the
country where the arms of Charles had been most

succefsful on the confines of Normandy, where the »

fortified town of Yvri had been sometime before sur-
prised and taken by Girant dela Paliere. This towr
being besieged by a force which was sufficient to make
a complete blockade, it was agreed by the garrison,
according to a custom, usual in these wars, that the
place fhould be surrendered if no succour fhould ar-
rive before the middle of August 1424, being three
months from the time of the agreement.

Charles having called a military eouncil, it was ‘re-
solved, to attempt, without delay, the relief of this
place.

He afsembled his army in full force, which consisted
of about six thousand Scots, two thousand Milanese,
and five thousand veteran French, besides militia, or
“troops lately raised, that had seen no service. ;

Buchan led on his treops towards Chartres. “The
marifhal de Ja Fayette *, the earl-of Douglas, the
‘count d’Aumale, and the viscount of Narbonne, were

* Of whose family i is that admirable hero and patriot, M. dela Fayetie
now general of the national troops of France, a man whose memory wil!

tee dear to posterity, when many ‘of the grandecs, both of France and Eng

Mand, thall beenotirely forgottem, = = : 3

ee

SS ge

— s,s)

ont’.

et ee eee ee

a ee

LIQ2) Life of Fobn earl of Buchan. 43,
pro with the most important commands under,
the direction of the constable. “4
. But before they could come up Yvri had surrez
dered, of which event Buchan received sal bl apts
at the village of Nonancour, about seven leagues from,
Y¥vri; when, changing his route, he laid siege.to Ver-~
neuil, which is in the domain formerly pofsefsed by the
duke of Alengon; and having summoned the garrison
to surrender, they deceivedthe citizens by circula-
ting the information by spies, that the siege of Yvri
was raised, and the king, in great force, at hand to

support the attack.

. The garrison was forced hy armed citizens to take
refuge in the citadel, which, two days after, was.
taken by storm.

Bedford had no sooner been informed of this a
than he marched his. whole army within three leagues.
of Verneuil, with.a view to ensnare Buchan, by giv~
ing him battle on ground of his own choice.

Unfortunately for Buchan, and (but for the maid of
Orleans) fatally for France, it was, determined in the
council of war to give the regent battle, without
waiting for a more favourable occasion, o1 proceed
ing, with more important consequences to the cause.
of the king, to pofsefs themselves of the country, and.
gather strength and discipline by gaining time..

_ The French barons attached to the king and king-
dom, who had flocked to Buchan’s standard with
their raw militia, inspired with that lively courage
which seems natural to Frenchmen, contended for:
immediate battle ; and, in the council, over-ruled. the
opinion of the constable, the.earl ef Douglas, the.

44 life of Fobn earl of Bucham, Yul 18

count @’Aumale,: and: the other veteran commanders,’
by giving them to apprehend, that the imputation of?

timorous caution would be affixed to their determina~
tion, if they declined the opportunity of battle*; next’
day, the 16th of August, the army of Bedford:
made its approach within view of: Verneuil.. He:
drew up his troops in a single line, the archers on‘
the flanks, and two thousand in the rear for reserve.’
-<Yhe center division was led on by the regent, the

wings by the earls of Salifbury and Suffolk. In the:

same manner the constable ranged his- army under:
the walls of Verneuil.

In each of his wings were a thousand horse, those~
on the right commanded by the baron de Coulonges,

the lords of Thienville, Estifsac, and Saintraillesy

supported by M. de Roucin.

On the left by M. le Borgne de Caqueran, the
lords of Valpergue, and Laquin de Rue, ee
together with the militia of their countries:

The wings were commanded by la Fayette and
Narbonne. The constable led on in the center. It
was the intention and order of the constable that’

the attack fhould be received, and not given f, that«

he might take the advantage of the irregular and’
impetuous onset of the enemy. But. the impatience
of the: viscount of Narbonne frustrated the prudent

plan of the constable, by leading up his wing to:

the attack without concert, which forced: the con--

* Memoires de la Pucelle, p. 28. &c. trusting to the patriotic annals
of Daniel, have ascribed the decision of the council to the impetuous im-
prudence of the Scots, but the preceding: account ssems mote probable.

+ Histoire de-France,-par. Meseray..

ryg2. Sse of Fobn earl of Buthan: ey
stable to bring up the troops suddenly to. his sup—.
port, that. the line of the army might not be broken.
: The heavy armed: soldiers, and the troops in gene-
ral, were thus brought up, unformed and breathlefs,,
to be received by the firm embattled array of the.
Englith, defended,.as they were, on their front by a.
breast work of pales, a military device, much and suc~-
cefsfully used by the Englith, to oppose the rafh im-.
petuosity of the French and Scots. They carried
palisades constantly with them, and used them on the,
most trivial occasions of provincial war.

- Notwithstanding this inexcusable and fatal blunder.
of Narbonne, the cavalry of the wings attacked the.
Englith archers, who’ were opposed to them, with
such impetuosity, thattthey broke their ranks, and.
trampled them under foot with great slaughter; but
the cavalry on the right, disobedient to orders, pur--
sued the flying archers, and. followed the troops of,
Lombardy with the strength of the French army,
supposing the victory to be obtained; and thus per-.
mitting the men to quit their ranks and plunder the
baggage of the enemy.

This disorder proved fatal to the constable and to,
the honour of the day. The Englifh general availed.
himself of it ;. and, coming up with firmnefs and ors
der, in lefs' than an hour the French and Scots were
totally discomfited and routed, the Englith archers
rallying, compleating the defeat and carnage of the
French. army.

Of the French it appears, by parallel accounts, that
there fell four thousand, with their brave comman-

‘4b hit of Fobm earl of Buchan, Fuly vB.
der the earl of Buchan, the earl of Douglas, and his:
son, with many other persons of distinction. ;

The viscount of Narbonne was among the first to
suffer by an honourable death, the gentle punifhment:
of his rafhnefs. His body was sought for, found,.
and barbarously quartered, and hung upon gibbets
by order of Bedford, as having been accefsary to the
afsafsination of the duke of Burgundy.

On the part of the Englith army, the victory was
obtained with the lofs of no more than sixteen hun-
dred men at atms ; the lords of Audleigh and Carle-
ton being among the flain. The number of the wound-.
ed was more considerable, and rejoicings were pro~
hibited for so bloody a conquest. Nextday Verneuil —
was occupied by an Englifh garrison. ‘a

Thus perithed John Stuart, earl of Buchan, upon:
the bed of honour, worthy of that truly royal and
accomplifhed family. to which he owed his origin.

To:no family in Europe can we ascribe superior.
gallantry, genius, elegance of taste, or splendour of:
military and courtly abilities, than to the family of
Stuart, and for so long a period to no royad family in
the world.

James 1. with the earl of Buchan and. the lord
@’Aubigny, his cousins, in a little court like that of
Scotland, formed a matchlefs groupe; and, in the
race of d’Aubigny, tillthe conclusion of the great civil _
war in the year 1648, we behold a.succefsion of heroes
during the whole of its career: Nor, since their cha+
racters start from the canvas of history, is it necef
sary to point them out to.the admiration of postes
rity, ‘

2792.> improvement of fueep and wool. 47

ae IMPROVEMENT OF SHEEP AND WOOL.

. Continued from p. ¥'7.
<x Katneetion between finene/s of wooland hardine fs.

Here again prejudice has been forward to decide,
and bas decided, as usual, improperly. It is very
generally believed, that fheep which carry fine wodl
vare necefsarily more tender than those that yield it
‘of a coarser filament. This, also, I have ao hesita-
‘tion in saying, is not true; and every man who has
thiseyes open in.a fheep market, or in a flock of fheep,
must observe it as well as me. TI consider this as
a most pernicious error, that, if not eradicated, must
ever tend to abate the profits of fheep farming.
A man who is convinced that fine wool can only -be
‘obtained from a weakly and wafhy breed of theep,
‘must be a fool ifhe does not determine at once to rear
“only coarse wool. But were he to be convinced, as'I
am satisfied’he may be, by a set of judicious experi-
ments directed to this point, that, as hardy fheep can be
found which carry jfime wool, as any which carry
coarse wool, (and there are actually in Scotland, and
elsewhere, breeds of fheep, that carry very fine wool,
far more hardy than otler breeds in the same coun-
try that carry coarse wool,) he would make haste to
‘propagate the ene, and to put away the other, to his
own great emolument.
B. Connection between erie of pile and finene/s of

filament.

' Itis in general ‘believed that a fine fleece. of wool
jas open and light, when compared with one that ‘is

‘48 | improvement of fheep and wool. Fuly 18.
coarser, though my own experience obliges me to de«
clare, that I conceive this general prejudice to be en-
‘tirely unfounded. I have seen many fheep that car-
‘ry very thin and light fleeces, though the wool was
extremely coarse; and others exceedingly: fine ‘that
ywere 2s.clofe as itis pofsible to conceive. Indeed it
-is now well known to every niember of this society.
{that, for closenefs of, pile, no breed of fheep in this
;country canbe compared with the Spanifh breed. But
_it is not the word of an individual that ought to have
eweiglit in cases of this sort. It is clear and accurate
experiment alone that ought to be relied on, and_it is
for that I contend. *
_.g. Shortnefs er length of staple.

It can hardly be disputed that richnefs:of pastures,
_and other favourable circumstances, have an influence
-in lengthening the pile of wool. Some have hence
inferred that fhort and long wool might be inter-
‘changeably converted the one into the other ; hence
.that no carding wool.can .be expected on rich pas=
tures, nor combing wool upon heathy commons.
-Others, on.the contrary, contend that there is a per-

_manent, and unalterable .difference in the length of
-the wool of different breeds of fheep, which no ma-

-nagement can destroy; that though a rich pasture —
will, in .all cases, produce a lengthier wool than one _
-that.is poorer, inthe same manner as a rich soil will
-produce a more luxuriant growth of plants of every

~ sort that fhall be reared on it, than if they had grown

-on one that is poorer ; ; yet that this does.not tend to

-alter the ultimate proportional size of plants, to —
«which nature has prescribed certain differences that ‘
; =

a
‘TY92. improvement of foeep and wool. 49
‘on one that is poorer, yet that this does not tend
‘to alter-the ultimate proportional size. of plants to

* which nature has prescribed .certain differences that

cannot be interchanged.- A gooseberry buth, ona.

‘rich soil, may, perhaps, sometimes attain as great a

‘size as a hawthorn ona poor soil, or a hawthorn as
‘an oak ; \ yet, zm equal circumstances, the hawthorn
will always exceed the gooseberry in size, and
the oak the hawthorn. It is just so, say they,
with:the length of-wool produced by certain breeds
of fheep, some of which, though they may be.acci-
dentally lengthened or stinted, will, upon the whole,
preserve an-invariable difference between each other,

if the breed be not contaminated. Which of these
-epinions are well founded? Nothing but accurate

experiments can afford a satisfactory answer to this
“question.
10. Connection between-length of staple and coarsenefs

of filament.

_ No opinion has been more:generally received than

‘that there is a necefsary.and invariable connection be-
tween-the length of the staple of wool, and the coarse-~
nefs of its filament. ‘That is to say, that the finest
wool must necefsarily be fhort, and vece versa. I
‘am, however, clearly convinced, that there is no real
foundation for this opinion; because | have had in
my own. flock, theep that carried wool not exceeding
‘two inches in length, which was of an exceeding
coarse quality; and, at the same time, I had wool
that measured seventeen inches, which was finer in
filament than the finest Spanifh wool I could obtain,

dt is of great importance that this- circumstance

VOL. x. G Tt

50 improvement of fheep and woot, — Fuly 18%

fhould be ascertained by fair and indisputable expe-

riments ; so that the public fhould neither rely up-

on my word, nor that of any other individual, in

matter of so much national importance.

11. Connection between the tendency. to fatten, saa nas
ture of the fieece.

Tt is profit alone that the farmer ought to oyu
in choosing a breed of fheep, and not fanciful refine~
ments of any sort. The improvement of wool is a
principal object of the attention of this society ; but
if, by attempting to do this, the farmer must sacrifice
more valuable considerations, it would be folly im
him to attempt ‘t. In all their experiments, therefore,
respect ought to be had to the qualities of the carcase of
the fheép as wellas its wool. If fheep that carry fine
Wool are necefsarily and invariably more tender, ov
. more difficult to fatten than those that carry coarse

wool, it were, perhaps, better never to think of the
former. But if the quality of the wool has no ze-
cefsary connection with the other peculiarities of .
carcase, then it may happen that by attention and
care, a breed may be found that fhall afford at the same
time fine wool, and be easily fatted. It is a matter,
therefore, of the utmost importance, to have this’
point clearly elucidated by the fairest and most de
cisive experiments. My own observations, on a pretty:
extensive scale of experience, leave me no room to
doubt on this head; but it is not for my own satis-’
faction I now enquire, but for the satisfaction of the’
public at large. And the public fhould not rely’
on any afsertions of individuals in matters of so oe
importanee.

279%. improvement of foeep and wool. 52
12. Influence of breed in altering the qualities of /beeps
Opinions differ prodigiously respecting this impor
tant object of discufsion. Nor can it be otherwise,
while the objects above specified fhall remain unde-
cided. Were all these previous questions to be fully
ascertained, we fhould then be able to speak with
certainty of the influence of breed, and to act de»
cisively in practice. Till they be ascertained we
must remain in a state of perpetual uncertainty and
doubt.
- By the practice of the greatest improvers in Brix
tain,-it appears that reed seems to be found to have:
a sovereign and uncontroulable influence in. altering:
the nature of the animal, though it has not a power
of checking the collateral influence of other cizcum-
Stances on the animal economy. No man, for ex
ample, who breeds from a Lancafhire long horned |
bull and cow, will ever produce a cow of the fhort
horned Dutch breed. Here the effect of breed is in-.
stantly obvious, and cannot be mistaken. But
fhould a man, in the the rich vale of Gloucester,.
breed from a Highland cow and bull, which,,in an
ordinary soil, would not exceed twenty-eight or thirty
stone weight, he will gradually raise them to such
@ size as to weigh sixty, seventy, or perhaps eighty
stone or upwards; while a breed of Englith cattle, by
being reared for a length of time, upon a poor pas-~
ture would be gradually diminifhed in size till it be-
came smaller than the Highland breed, reared upon a
richer soil. Thus would the two breeds, in respect
to size at least, be apparently interchanged the one
for the other, as the smaller might become the lar~
get. This, to hasty observers, would seem to be a.

32, improvement of foeep and.wool. Fuly 18...

real alteration of the qualities'of the breed; though
it be, in fact, only an accidental variation, occasioned
by the influence of collateral circumstances; for, in

all other respects. but the size, these breeds, in-all
‘circumstances, preserve their original and.distinctive -
difference ; and let them change places they will .

quickly return to what they were before. The

‘Highland cattle, restored to their barren hills,’

‘will dwindle to their former size; and the Englifh

breed, in its rich vales afsume their former magni- —

tude, and beexactly the same thing, after many ge-
nerations, as they. were at first, if the dreed has not
been contaminated. Just so it happens in the vege-
table kingdom.. The hawthorn which springs up
in arich and fertile vale, rises to a lofty tree,. spreads

wide its branches around, and outstrips the oak itself

which grows on a niggard soil,.and in an exposed sis
tuation; but this deviation from the laws:of nature
is only an accidental, not a radical change.

It isin this way that circumstances which only.

produce accidental changes. on the qualities of fheep

and wool, having not been distinguifhed from the
mdre permanent changes resulting from breeds, have
occasioned a confusion of ideas on-this head. that
ought to be removed: An enterprise: that seems. to
be highly worthy the attention of fltis society.. Many:
men have observed, for example, that rich pastures
augment the length of wocl, which it no doubt does ;:
hence they conclude, that long or fhort wool depends:

entirely on, pastures, and noton the nature of the ori-_

ginal breed ; though they must, very often see in the
game pastures, different. breeds, which, in this respect,

preserve all their original qualities unimpaired. Others, _

==

Sein

ioe -g < 7
Co ee

a

Ret a 3 alll et ee —— se

279%. improvement of fhecp and wool. 33

having observed that some ofthe common breeds carry”
long wool that is very coarse, have concluded that these:
qualities (z. ¢. length and coarsenefs,) cannot be dis=
joined, and that the influence of dreed, in this case,
will soon be lost.. Others having observed that ths
fleece produced by the same fheep. in one season,
has been much coarser ‘than that which tlie same
fheep afforded in a former season, have thought they’
had good reason to conclude, if the fheep chanced to
be moved from a coarser to a finer gang, that this:
change was undoubtedly occasioned by the richer
pasture. They did not advert that if the season in’
which the wool was produced was warmer than the: *

former, the wool must of necefsity have been much:
coarser than the wool of the former season, though the

fheep had been kept upon its former:pasture. If
the fheep: chanced. to go froma: rieher toa coar-~
ser pasture, the obvious deterioration, of. the wool:
would-be as inevitably attributed to the pasture, not
to the change of climate between one year and ano-
ther. Thus it must ever happen, that so long 2s we
are ignorant of the precise effect of a change of cli-

mate, pasture, management, sex, age, tc. on the

quality of the same bveed of fheep, we must be per-
petually groping in the dark, and reasoning as fancy
or caprice may dictate, so that our practice must be

unsteady, and our opinions contradictory.’ ‘What
enterprise, therefore, could be more worthy of a so-
_ ciety which has so strongly attracted the notice of alk

Enrope, than to begin by chalking out and steadily

_ pursuing a set of experiments calculated to remove:

_ those doubts,-and to introduce certainty. in a matter.
of so much national importance ?

54 improvement of fhecp and wool. Fuly 1&..

Committee of experiments.

From these considerations, I would beg leave to
propose that a committee of this society fhould be ap-
pointed, under the name of the committee of experi-
ments, to make aclear and distinct speeification of
such experiments as they fhould deem necefsary to
be made for elucidating the particulars above. allu-
ded to, and others they fhould deem of equal impor
tance, and to report to the society the result of theit
deliberations. And let it be an article of instruction
to that committee, to be very minute in describing
all the particulars necefsary to be attended to in
making these experiments, so as to guard against er=
ror. Should such a report, corrected by the society,
be afterwards publifhed, it may serve as a clue to
direct the experiments of such public spirited indi-
viduals as were desirous of co-operating with the
society in forwarding so useful an undertaking.

The great object to be ever held in view by this so-

ciety, in these and every other enterprise, must be —

the improvement of Britifh wool ; and in the first
place the improvement of our fhort carding wool.
But, in attempting to obtain the object aimed at,
care must be taken not to sacrifice any other ad-.
vantage we already pofsefs that fhould tend to di-
minifh the profit of the farmer. The prudent fheep

rearer will not rafhly depart from what he knows

to be profitable, for another practice he does not,

know with certainty to be better. If to obtain one
pound of fine wool he loses two of a coarser sort—if
he must adopt a more tender instead ofa hardier

hreed, fine wool would be purchased. at a price far }

i

1792. ° improvement-of foecp and wool. - 55
beyond its value. But if itfhall be proved by-a set of
judicious experiments, which I have no doubt will be
the ease, that finenefs of wool does not necefsarily tend
to diminifh its quantity, and that fheep of the hardiest
sort may be found that produce. the finest and closest
pile of wool, then his attention would be directed ta
make diligent search to try if he could discover that
breed wich pofsefsed all the different qualities which
render theep valuable in the highest degree. But in
this enquiry he fhoulf proceed with caution, and ne-
ver go an inch beyond the bounds that accurate ex-.
periments prescribe to him; fancy and affection fhould
be here out of the question,—it is profit only that
ought to be regarded. When ever the farmer has
obtained a good breed, let him lay it down as a maxim,
from which nothing fhall make him depart, ne-
ver, on the one hand, to alter it or change it for ano-
‘ther, till he has had decisive experience that he is to
do it for the better; nor, on the other hand, ever to
rest satisfied that his breed cannot be improved till
he has obtained one that pofsefses every estimable
quality in the highest known degree.

That I may not be here misunderstood, let it be
supposed that he has obtained a breed that affords
very fine wool in abundant quantity, and thrives
Kindly upon his gang; though another kind fhould
come in his way, that fattened a little more easily,
t him, before he resolves to adopt this last, make a
fair experiment to try if the whole of the theep of
t kind, which can be kept on a given quantity of
h food, as he can command, will afford him more
, taking in every article ia cumulo, carcaseys

56 improvement of foeep and wool. “Fuly 18;
fleece, and accidents, than another kind with which

it is compared. If this experiment fhould turn out

in favour of his own breed, let him reject the strange
‘breed with ‘which it was compared; but let him not
rest satisfied that it never can be improved. Let
him be ever on the search for a breed of fine woolled

fheep, that fatten very kindly.’ Let him watch for

these with the utmost care, and, wherever he can

find them, let no expence deter him from giving them |

a fair experimental trial. But if he has been so lucky
as to come near to'perfection with his own flock ; where
is he so likely to meet with that valuable kind as in that
flock? With a view to discover these valuable indivi-
duals‘let him observe them ‘continually with the most
attentiveeye. Let himhandlethem often, and carefully
discriminate those which have, in the highest degree,
the valuable qualities he wifhes to obtain. Let-them
be selected from the others, the very best rams put
to the picked ewes, and so on, perpetually-selecting
the best from the best. In this manner, by a-con-
tinued attention, it ‘is inconceiveable what im-
provements may be made in a continuance of years.

I myself once : -chanced to observe a little cow of my .

own, that continued.at all times fat, when treated in

the same way with my other cattle; and though the
was scarcely ever in her life that the might not Have
“been slaughtered for beef, others of my cows, equal-.

ly fed with her, were sometimes very-lean. I kept
‘her many years, but never was-so lucky as toobtaina
bull calf trom her that lived; yet I can, acthisday, easily,
@istinguifh that breed, by their good plight, from Oye }

ether cattle, after fhe has been dead more than twang

1792+ >> on tawation. 57
; ty years. Such being the evident permanency of
breeds, let me recommend this circumstance very
warmly to the attention of all who wifh to engage
seriously in the improvement of their fheep. But let
no fheep rearer ever forget, that it is the breed of
theep which, on bis own particular gang, and noton that
of another, yields him the most profit, that is the
kind he ought to rear, whether it carry coarse or

: fine wool, or whether it be in vogue at the time, or
: the reverse. It is money only that makes the pot te
: boil. And let him also advert, that, if breed be so
_ powerful in z7proving, it is equally efficacious in de-
: teriorating a flock; so that he ought to take great
care how he alters that breed which he already pof-
sefses ; and on no account ought he to introduce a
strange ram into his flock, till the superior qualities
‘of that breed over his own have been ascertained in
the most indisputable manner by clear and decisive

experiments.
Jas. ANDERSON.

: ON TAXATION.
_ Awmoncst the various departments in the science of
- politics, I believe there is none in which lefs pro-
- grefs has been made, in point of improvement, than
that of taxation. . Notwithstanding the numerous
and deep discufsions, that almost every branch of the
_ revenue laws has undergone, both in and out of par-
liament, we find ourselves. loaded with taxes, that

you. x. H +

58 on taxation. _ Fuly 18.
produce: evils ten-fold greater than they are capable
of occasioning, were the duties payable the only causé
of complaint,—with revenue officers to sach an im-
mense number both under the customs and excise,
that they form one of the greatest and most constait
articles of expence to goveriment,—and withal we are’
overcome with smugglers, and revenue sales of sei-
zed goods, tosuch an extent, that in many branches of
commerce the fair trader is beaten out of the field.
With a view to point out, as far as lies within my’
-power, the causes of these evils, and to excite in’
others, endowed with more information and abilities, a
desire of turning their eyes toward an object of somuch
importance, and endeavouring to devise the means of
putting our taxations on a more simple and Jefs-hurt-
ful footing, I fhall, with the permifsion of the Editor
of the Bee, offer to the public, from time to time, my”
observations on such parts of the revenue laws as’
come immediately under my observation, in the’
course of my own businefs as a merchant.
1. Of overstreaching taxation.

It is a very plausible and generally received idea,
‘that the higher a duty is, the more it produces ; but
there is not-any principle more fallacious or moré
-dangerous. I fhall pick out, as particular instances,
the duties payable onthe. importation of spzrits and

tobacco.

On all European spirits there is a duty payable on _

importation to Britain, of five fhillings and tensptpre

per gallon.

Thercost of geneva ofthe first quality is at ae

sent, at Rotterdam, about 1s, 10d. per gallon, brandy,

)

a

17 Q2- on taxation. 39
since the commencement of the disturbances in France,
has ‘been much dearer, which hes in a great degree
prevented the smuggling of that article.

The consequence of this very high duty, it being
above three times the value of the spirits, is, that an
immense smuggling has been carried on ever since it
was so high. And notwithstanding every method
that could be devised for its prevention having been

adopted by government, it still continues. The evils

of this smuggling are easily seen: I fhall enumerate

some of them.

1st. It destroys, in a double capacity, legal coms

; “merce, the support of which every good politician:

pays much attention to. In the first place the smugg-
lers are enabled to bring the spirits to market at a
price far lower than the person who pays the duties
can; and, in the second place, there are such great
quantities of these spirits, that have been seized and
condemned by. the revenue officers, exposed to sale
at the custom-house and excise office, that itis im-
pofsible for the fair trader ever to. compete with

them, however low his prices may be; for the lower

he sells, the lower will’ these condemned spirits be
knocked off at, as they must be sold at what they
will bring.

ad. It brings ruin into the part of the country
where it exists. The temptation is so great that
persons pofsefsed of capital, allured by the glittering
prospect of gain, relinquifh lawful occupations, as
mean drudgery, and grasp eagerly at the thousands
that they are to gain by purchasing spirits at 1s. 10d.
and selling them at-7s, 10d. per gallon, They pur-

60 on taxation. Fuly 18.
chase ate engage men, send out remittances,—their
velsels and cargoes are seized, they, and their families, }
who lived in affluence and respect, are plunged at
once into bankruptcy and indigence, drawing along
with them many small dependants. But fhould they
be so fortunate as to succeed in the attempt, and gain
great sums by the prosperous ifsue of their lawlefs
enterprise, they stop not there. Fate acts the same
part by them, as a cunning fharper at whist does by a
pigeon ; allowing them to run on in the gaudy pathy
of gain till their heads are uplifted with the inchanting
phantom ; and with one blow they are cast down,.
and all their flowery prospects come to nought.
Thus it happens with all, rich and poor, in those un-.
happy countries where smuggling prevails. If I ex-
cept a very few, indeed, who die worth considerable
sums of money made by the diabolical traffic; and’
these increase the evil by being looked at by their
countrymen as happy examples, worthy of imita-
tion.

3dly. The good morals of the people, by this term
I mean the proper direction of the principle of dis-
tinguithing right from wrong, are, by every able po-
litician, whether in.a public or private capacity, con-:
sidered as an object of the -first importance. And’
these are, by smuggling, entirely déstroyed. When:
the laws in one instance are held at nought, very
little respect is paid to them in another; and it
is a well known fact, that in every country where
smuggling is practised extensively, it is not only ac-
counted no crime to defraud the revenue, but it is
also considered as a virtue; andI believe that, had

‘

1792. on the milky way. 6x
smuggling been as near the origin of society in Gal-
loway, as fighting was in Rome, virtue * would have
implied dexterity in smuggling in the former, as it
did bravery in the latter. How often do we hear
of spightful murders being committed in Kent, of re-
bellious combats in Galloway and Ayrfhire, betwixt
his majesty’s officers and the people; and of un-
paralleled, and bragged-of feats of swindling in all
the smuggling counties of Britain? All are owing
to smuggling.
* I could enumerate many more instances of the
baneful effects of illicit commerce, all of which ope-
rate.most powerfully in those very parts of our coun=
try that are destined by nature to fhine in commerce,
and spread wealth and happinefs around them, if that
evil were removed; but I must hold for the present;
and in my next paper I fhall probably state what are
the effects of exorbitant duties on the amount of the
revenue, which is the primary object of considera-
tion in 1mposing them.

Leith, 1792, TRADER POLITICAL.

ON THE MILKY WAY.
For the Bee.

Tr our sun were viewed by a person at the nearest
fixed star, that star would appear asun, and our
sun would appear a fixed star. How grand is the
idea that every fixed star is asun toa number of
planets around it! And yet, if we reason from ana-
logy, it is not more strange than true. The breadth

* Virtus, in Latin, signifies bravery.

62 on the milky way. Fuly 18.
of the earth’s.orbit scarcely bears any sensible pro-
portion to the distance of the nearest fixed stars.

We fhall here hazard a conjecture concerning the
universe from the appearance of the milky way.
The milky way, (when seen to perfection in a clear
night, so clear as to occur only once or twice in
twelve months,.and brighter than is necefsary to dis-
cover the planet Herschell to the naked eye,) the
milky way appears a great circle in the heavens,.
pafsing by the swan on the north, and dog-star on
the south, and not far from the pole of the ecliptic.
Of this great circle of the milky way, the earth of
course appears to be the center.

The conjecture we hazard from this appearance, is,
that the universe of the fixed stars is a great zodiac,
or grand ecliptic, of some thicknefs, but of little thick-
nefs in comparison to its vast length and breadth, or
amazing circumference: That the fixed stars have
formed themselves into sucha grand zodiac by mutual
attraction ; as the planets, by a like attraction, have
resolved themselves into the plane of the ecliptic:
That we, who are placed in the middle of this grand
zodiac of the universe, see the more distant parts of
it like a round belt, or great circle, of some breadth,
of which we ourselves are in the center: That this
great circle is the milky way: That. the fixed stars
we see on every side of us, are all comprehended
within the compafs of the grand zodiac; but being:
comparatively near us, must appear to us in all points
of the sphere: That we only perceive it to afsume
the figure of a zodiac in those parts that are compa~
ratively more remote: And that, in the most dis-
tant parts of it, myriads of fixed stars, forming them--

Ot eae a a

x79) reading memorandums. 63)
selves, rank behind rank, into embattled le gions, pre-’
sent to us, and to our view, the greet Circle of the’
milky way. Our ecliptic stands nearly at right’
angles to the surface of our earth: The position of
tle milky way may have determined the position of
our ecliptic. | - ASTRONOMICUS.

=

a Bs * READING MEMORANDUMS,

‘ Toe weak mind, unable to think, naturally flies’
‘t0 anecdote to find conversation ; and you will.seldom
‘be entertained with a happy, or decent selection.

: There is’ often an unfortunate concurretice of cir-

cumstances, which is sometimes so intricate, from:

«chance, as to leave the innocent bewildered in the’
mazes of suspicion, without affording the slightest
Clue for them, to retrace their way out of it.

~ Friendfhip (like love,) now a-days is a word of
fathion. ’Tis a sort of superstitious, cabalistical
word, which once had the power of joining’ people
‘together, but, like witchcraft, has now lost its force.

Let not the unfeeling stoze deride the pleasures of
this world, and despise a happinefs, which his
gloomy soul is ineapable of tasting; it presents many
-enjoyments, which the eye of reason may behold
with approbation.

«€ The ways of providence are dark and intricate,
** Puzzled with mazes, and perplex’d with errors.”

On reading Blair’s sermons, it is.observed, “ those
sermons are piety in the thost enticing form; and

64 reading memorandums. July. 18..
whilst-you admire the elegant language they are re-
plete with, a secret impulse bids you follow the
charming precepts.

Melancholy brings to one’s mind the exprefsions of
others, which exactly describe our own sensations,
more than any other affection.

We are never more angry than when we find our-
selves duped. Natural, justifiable pride revolts
against duplicity ; and we can sooner forgive any in=
jury than that of decezt.

Courage incites soldiers to fight for their country :
But it is cowardice alone that drives duelists toge-
ther.

Three maxims never to be departed from, for a
happy life. |

1st. An implicit acquiescence in the will of pro-
vidence, from a conviction that all its dispensations
are ultimately intended for our good.

ad. That, without embarafsing ourselves by re-
verting to the past, or looking forward to the future,
we ought, in every present instance, to act in strict
conformity to the dictates of conscience and reason.

3d. Never consider slight omifsions, and trifling
errors, as beneath our care and attention.

Many things would remain perfectly harmlefs by
neglect, that are too frequently exalted into. mischief
by being legally noticed.

: ‘
4 “ . } x
POETRY.
OS a ae

MARTIAL LIB, VIII. EPIG. ili, IMITATED.

I.

W sen fhall you end my thoughtlefs bard ?
What reams of verses would you write?
Without an atom of reward,
Though all admire your ev’ry fi ght.
Il.
The camp, the city, and the court,
The farmer plodding at his plough,
The premier seeking each resort,
To'pay our debts the devil knows how:
TI.
All these and fifty thousand: others,
Have learn’d your charming odes by heart;
Though spice their admiration smothers,
Ev’n critics murmur your desert.
IV.
When creeds, and farces, and reviews,
And dictionaries past all number,
Shall plug the windows of our stews,
As tight as Jemmy Boswell’s lumber: :
y-
When you have rotted in a jul,
Without one turf your bones to cover,
The milk maid, blufhing o’er her pail,
Shall tune your ballads to her lover.
. vi.
The thepherd while his lambsare feeding,
And his fond bantlings throng to hear,
Shall cn the daisy, where he’s reading, .
Drop the pure. homage of a tear.
vil.
Let others in their lofty rhime,
Raise ruffian valour to the fkies,-
But scorn to prostitute your time,
In teaching homicide dicguiss.
Vill. P
T’ were past ali Greek,—all Shakespeare's glory’.
Iftender, innocent, amusing,
While not one erime profanes your story,
Netcy hal! think it worth perusing.
ix, ‘
For since in baby clothes young nature,
First tried ten thousand orbs to whirl,
There has not smiled in mortal features:
So lovely, so divine a girl! BoMBARDINION;
VOL, X.. I +

\

66) poetry. July 18.

To the Editor of the Bee.
Mr Editer,

f happened to have the good fortune to be present at the grand concert
which was performed at the opera house London, for the benefit of
Thomas Linley, esq, it was at this concert that the much lamenved Mrs
Sheridan ‘sung for the last time in public. The effect Mrs Sheridan’s
wonderfully pathetic powers had upon me, Mr Editor, I am unable to
describe, pen and’paper, even in a /killful hand, could give but
a very faint idea cf it. The house was so overflowed that forms were
obliged to be placed on the stags 3 and theseybeing filled :by ladies, a
crowd of gentlemen were thankful to get standing room between tlie
side seenes, Gc. &c. ¥ mention these circumstances to fhew the anxie-
ty of the public on this occasion ; and among this numerous af:emblage
1 don’t think there was a dry eye to be found during the time that Mrs
Sheridan was singing her pathetic soags; and the profefsors in the or-
chestra were so deeply affected, that they almost forgot their functions. Mr
Editor I was one of the singing boys belonging to the chapel royal, and
received the first part of my musical education under the late Dr
Nares, organist and composer to the king; and during my stay in the
chapel royal, I frequented the oratorios, opera house, play houses, and
all the concerts of note, and consequently heard all the singers of
the: day and, on my quitting the chapel royal, 1 went to Italy, where I
remaised several years; but neither there, nor any where else, have £
yet heard a singer that equalled, or came any thing near, in the pathetic
stile, the late Mrs Sheridan, Iam, Sir, your constant reader and well
wither,

Broughton Fuly 1792. T.H. Butcer.
ee oe

A DIRGE, OR PATHETIC VOCAL RONDO, DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY
OF THE LATE MRS SHERIDAN, BY T. H. BUTLER.

The favourite Scots air of Lewie Gordon is the musical theme of this
compesition ; but those additions which form it into a rondo are
mostly new; the whole, will be humbly presented to the public ia a
fhort time.

Ronpo.

Bow the head thou ily fair,
‘ Bow the head in mournful guise,
Sickly turn thy fhining white,
Bend thy stalk and never rise.

Shed thy leaves thou lovely rose,
Shed thy leaves so sweet and gay;
Spread them wide on the cold earth,
Quickly let them fade away.
Bow thy heady &e. in

1702. ~ poetry. oF
Fragrant woodbine all untwine,
All untwine from yonder bow’r5
Drag thy branches on the ground,
Stain with dust each tender flow’r.
Bow the head, &c,
For mute is that harmonious voice,
That wont to breathe the sounds of love;
And lifelefs are those beauteous limbs,

That with such ease and grace did move.
Bow the head &c,

eS SE SEE i
ON THE SPRING.

For the Bee.
Ta

Fare spring advance and lead the hours,
In festive round, to favour love 3
In yonder desolated bow’rs,
May we thy sweets ambrosial prove!
Il.
Farewell the dreary winter’s reign,
The cold, the lonely hours are past 5
Hail lovely spring! and all thy train!
Thrice welcome art thou to our coast!
311.
ANow chearly o’er the mofsy lawn
The swain trips fast to see his fair;
His heart elated with the dawn
Of verdant Spring’s most wholesome air,
Iv.
‘Just so the man, whose heart on fire,
Js rack’d with dreadful discontent;
‘Till in his mind new thoughts respire, ‘.
And Jove’s almighty aidis sent.
v

"With this renew’d his spirit braves
Each danger and despairing thought ;
S “He, rolling on life’s troubl’d waves,
To fhore with peace and safety’s broughts Mi

’

“6 gleanings of literature. July 18.

GLEANINGS OF LITERATURE.

Electric symptoms accompanying earthquakes, exemplified in
an account of the earthquakes of Jamaica, anno 1766, e-
tracted from a letter from Dr Fohn Martin Butt.

Sir, To the Editor of the Bee.
“From the rth of June to the present time we have
either expected to be buried by earthquakes, or blown
away by hurricanes; but, thank God, no great mischief
has yet been done, although our -neighbours of Cuba
-have suffered: considerably by the former, and we are
hourly in dreadful apprehension of hearing that they have
had a violent hurricane, from the symptoms observed in
our sea_and atmosphere.

“The first earthquake, for we have had no fewer than forty
fhocks, happened a few minutes past midnight of the 11th
of June, after a long course of intensely hot weather. That

evening I had invited a company to sup with me ; but be-
fore eight o’clock felt such a trembling of my limbs, with
stricture and anxious uneasinefs on my breast, and vertigo,
that I was forced to.retire from my guests and go to bed.
I then felt precisely as. J was wont to do under the influ-
ence of electricity, which always affects my nerves so sur-
prisingly, that, when others are undergoing electrical fhocks,
I decline the experiment, as.I do not recover the effect of

- it for hours. -

“ Not knowing the cause of my uneasinefs, and apprehen-
ding approaching disease, I determined to let blood, and
put my feet in warm water, after which I fellinto a sweat,
_and then into a disturbed sleep, out of which I was awake-
ned by the violence of a fhock of earthquake,

1792. Sleanings of literature. 69
* Mrs Butt, who has much presence of mind, and
wey; leis confused then myself, as fhe had not gone to sleep,
thought this first thock consisted of three or four in succef-
sion, following each other like pulses, or waves of the sea.
«What from my dizzinefs, the rocking of the earth,
the thundering hollow noise cf the ‘atmosphere, joined to
the rattling of furniture, bursting open of doors and win-
dow thutters, the combined cries of goats, dogs, cats, and
poultry, the cracking of the timbers of the houses and other
cizcumstances, ‘the digmay and horror of the scene was
inexprefsible. :
This fhock proceeded from north to south or from
N.W..E. to S. S. W. as appeared afterwards from the
progrefs of the mischief of which I was previously convin-
_ ced by observing that some specimens.of natural history ;
which I had placed on fhelves in my library, in that di-
rection, were not displaced, as.others were in a contrary
posture, but only forced in a regular manner, by protrusion, -
on the little -perpendicular -pattitions that subdivided the
fhelves, to separate the contents. - :
“In the account of the earthquake felt at London in the
year 1749) communicated by Martin Folkes to the royal
society, it is mentioned, that fifhes leapt above a foot and
‘an half high from:théir ponds, and the same appearance
was noticed here at Mosquito Point; and to -prove how
violent the stroke was upon the waters, the men of wer,
and other fhips in these seas, received such a fhock, that the
seamen imagined they: had. struck or run afhore. .
“ I remember that in Donah’s account of the earthquake
felt at Turin, in the-year 1755, contained in his letters to
Abraham Trembly, which are epitomised in the philoso-

phical transactions of the year 1766, the following query
is offered:

40 gteanings of hterature. July 18.

“ Whether there is not a great co-operation of electricity
in the production of earthquakes? and this query w7s-
brought up forcibly to my recollection, from what | felt
upon this occasion, which I have already described.

‘““ For if earthquakes are solely owing to the causes that
have been usually afsigned, whence preceeded-those-sensati-:
ons which I never experienced, save under the action of,
electricity? and whence the dead calm, and motionleis,
state of the clouds, which, for an hour before the fhock, al-.
most suffocated many people.here, obliging .them at mid-
-night to get out of bed and sit in their piazzas ?.

‘* Moreover, the sound immediately preceding the earth-
quake, so exactly resembled the noise of thunder, that,.ta-
king every circumstance into consideration, the query of;
Donah deserves to be roticed with attention.

“ Tf explosion from pent up steam, or other subterranean
theory of earthquake, were only'to be taken into considera~ _

stion in explaining these appearances, how comes it to pafs
that congenial symptoms of the atmosphere &’c. were felt

sin Sumatra, during the earthquake .of Lisbon in the
year 1755?

“ Besides, the electric feelings of the people here, prior

to the great fhock, were felt more ‘severely:on the moun-

-tains than on the low lands, which dees not correspond to
the modern theories of Mitchel, and other approved wri-
ters on the-subject of earthquakes.

“ In our case, the mountains continued almost incefsantly
tremulous, while, on the low lands,:there were spaces of an
hour between the fhocks, which would not comport with
the theory of steam acting by the communication of the
strata, as conjectured by Mitchel.

“ As to the direction of michief in earthquakes iecctkie
mentioned, it seems to agree very well with the stratical
construction of the globe, but not without the co-operati~

‘
.

.

4

1792. . on hard drinking: ot
on of the electric fluid, which has indeed been also obser-
ved in all the great eruptions of Etna and Vesuvius, and so
anciently, if I remember right, as by Pliny.

“ Tn my feelings, prior to this earthquake of ours, I have
not been singular ; as you will remember, from the account
given by Ulloa of the symptoms felt at Cadiz in the year
1755, during the earthquake at Lifbon. Almost every body
there suffered either by the head ach, convulsive attacks,
sudden langours, flying pains, and an opprefsion of spirits,
with sicknefs, purgings, and vomitings, for hours before
any tremulation of the earth was observed.

'“ Dr Shehely in his philosophy of earthquakes, mentions
similar circumstances relating to the experience of the
people at London, during the time of this great cata-
strophe.

' “ For my own part, I mean to draw no inferences, nor to
fim at the folly of a system, but only to relate to your
lordfhip what I felt during the late earthquakes in our
island.” ’

‘

© REVIEW.

- HISTORY OF SOME OF THE EFFECTS OF HARD DRINKING, BY
. ' Je C, LETTSOM, MD. FRS. FSA. 4tO ,
"Tus small pamphlet exhibits a striking view of the mi-
serable effects that are the consequences of hard drinking,
which deserve to be particularly attended to at the pre-
sent time, when the price of spirits are so low, as to hold
out a temptation to persons in the lowest ranks of life to
exceed in this way. It is not to be expected that per-
sons of this description will attend to any thigg that can
be said or written on this head; but those who have the

-

"2 on hard drinking. July 18.
welfare of the,country, and the happinefs of the people at,
heart, ought surely to exert themselves to try, if pofsible,
to mitigate an evil Productive of such mis erable conse-
quences.

After a few introductory observations, the benevolent,
‘author divides the cases of this clafs under the following
heads : } .

“ The first, says he, are those whd early in life-have ha-.
bituated themselves to drink freely of wine of various-
kinds, and, from their situations in life, undergone a change.
of climate, as from Europe to the Indies, &c. - Punch.
drinkers, likewise, have been liable to similar complaints.
The first appearance of disease. is lofs of appetite, which,

at length is so weakened and.vitiated, that, after taking,
food, before the return of the next meal a kind of heavy
paia of the stomach, without a constriction of the muscles
of the abdomen, .comes on, and witha slight effort, a sweet-
wh, brackifh, or. acid fluid, is thrown.up, and the pain and
constriction for a fhort time subside. ‘For severul years
in this unhappy state, the patient drags on a life, rendered
now and then more supportable, either by renewed pota-
tions, or,exputations, till.at length the bodily and mental
powers become impaired;. the object grows emaciated, .
the whole body fhrinks; neither swelling nor dropsy ap-
pear, though the countenance looks sallow; the region of
the liver is not enlarged, and the liver itself seems lefs-
than natural; the urine is not very high coloured; the
fieces ave hard and dark coloured; the stomach will take
and retain food, but, after receiving it, it is opprefsed, and
feels tightened or contracted in its dimensions; the pati-
ent exprefses it, as if it were tied by a. strait bandage ;
the same sensation affects the intestines, and the abdomen
suffeis such irregular constrictions, as become evident to
the external toush, the muscles being drawn into irregular

179265 °° on hard drinking. 43
action, the surface of the belly is diversified with prot-
berances and cavities ; sometimes the spasmodic strictures
ran transversely, and raise the surface like waves of the
sea. The pain continues increasing to such excefs, that.
the miserable sufferer is obliged to prefs against a table or
some hard body, to mitigate his distrefs, till vomiting
hrings a respite; or he hastens this operation, by thrus'.
ing his finger into. the throat; and thus relieves himself
till the next reception of nourifhment, when the same tra-
gedy is repeated. .‘The matter discharged is thin, acrid,
sour, sweet,.or brackifh. Sometimes instead of constipa--
tion, an occasional purging ensues, and mitigates the pain,
whilst it subdues the constitution ; and after years of mi-.
sery, the victim slides into a fatal decay ; but long before
this, the powers of the mind have been debilitated, and
' Jas recollection and:actions impaired.

The second train of distrefsful symptoms which I thal
relate, more generally succeed the free use of spirits, or of
wines, with the admixture of spirits, as Madeira; and espe-
cially where late hours and illicit amours have been su-
jperadded.

“ The early symptoms of complaint are, a pain and op-
prefsion about the pit of the stomach after eating, or dis-'
tension from fluids; this pain extends to the breast and
fhoulders; there are frequent eructations of wind, which
seem to burn the throat as they ascend; these symptoms,

_ which are usual in affections of the liver, and particularly
in bilious effusions, are at first so trivial, as seldom to a-
arm the fears of the patient, or he slightly mentions them

as symptoms of the gout, whilst he attempts to avert the
present suffering, by indulging more freely in the. very
cause of the mischief, till repeated fillips of raw spirits, or
a dilution of the poison, render existence miserable.
VOL, X. , K stick

44 on hard drinking. July 1B.
~ “ The appetite now totally fails, but an insatiable thirst
continues, and if it be not supplied with an exhilarating

cordial, the -vital spirits instantly flag, and such horrors:

‘take place asare dreadful even to a bye-stander ; the poor vic-

tim is so deprefsed, as to fancy a thousand imaginary evils;

he expects momentarily to expire, and starts up*suddenly
foom his seat; walks wildly about the room; breathes
fhort, and seems to struggle for breath; if these horrors

seize him in bed, when waking from slumber, he springs
up like an elastic body, with a sense of suffocation, and.

the hortors of frightful objects around him ; at the same
time the pain of the stomach continues and augments ;
the sight of wholesome plain food gives disgust instead

of appetite; drink is his cry; or if hunger is excited,

it is after high-seasoned, salt, or acrid nourifhment.

“ At this time, if a dropsy, ‘or fatal jaundice, do not
‘terminate existence, the legs fhrink, are swarthy coloured
like the rest of the body, and sometimes purple spots ap-
pear and disappear for many months; the extremities feel
sere to the touch, and upon scratching them, exude
blood; the thighs likewise fhrink ; but the body, and
particularly about 'the region of the liver, enlarges, and the
hardnefs of the liver may be frequently traced : The face
.is nearly copper-coloured, is emaciated, sometimes with
little suppurations, which dry and tum scaly ; the breath

smells like rotten apples, andthe morbus miger, or vomitings’

of a fluid like that of coffee-grounds, snatch the patient
from complicated misery. Sometimes a purging, or
bloody discharge, hasten the catastrophe.

- The third train of symptoms to be described, is not:
confined to age or sex, but is in general more Pee mage
_ the attendant of the female sex.

“The persons Hable to the symptoms, have been those
of delicate habits, who have-endeavoured to overeome the

1792.- on bard drinking: 18
nervous debility, by the aid of spirits; many of these have
begun the use of these poisons from persuasion of their
utility, rather than from the love of them; the relief,
however, being temporary, to keep up their effects, fre-
quent accefs is had to the same delusion, till at length
what was taken by compulsion, gains attachment, and a little
drop of brandy, or gin and water, becomes as necefsary as
food; the female sex, from natural delicacy, acquire . this -
custom by slow degrees, and the poison being admitted in»
small doses, is slow in its operations, but not lefs painful
in its effects.

“The soberer-clafs of tradesmen, alse, who occasionally.
indulge in their. sixpenny-worth of brandy and water,
gradually slide into'the same unhappy habits; and. entail.
upon their constitutions the same misery,. which I. fhall
now introduce.
| “ The first appearance -of indisposition very. much rey
sembles what has been last described; and under the.decep- -
tion of the gout, the fuel is heaped updn the fire,.till the
delusion has been too long maintained to admit of retreat
in genera), at least the attachment te the use of spirituous -
drinks, becomes so predominant, that neither threats nor
persuasions are powerful enough to overcome. it... The
miserable sufferer is so infatuated, as, in spite of locks and’
keys, to bribe by high rewards -the. dependent nurse ‘pri- -
vately to procure-it.

“ But the concluding symptoms are: very different from
either of the foregoing histories; frequently, indeed, the
appetite for food vanifhes, but sometimes continues voraci-
ous; and, at the. same time, whilst the body is costive, and -
nO vomiting ensues, the lower extremities grow more-and
more emaciated; the legs become.as smooth as polifbed .
ivory, and the soles of the feet evens glafsy and. fhining, .
and at the same time so tender, that the weight of the fin-
ger excites fhricks and moaning; and yet I have known,

56 on hard drinking, . July 8.
that, in a moment’s time, heavy prefsure has given noun:
easinefs. The legs, ‘and the whole lower extremities, lose
all power of action ; wherever they'are placed, there they
remain till moved again by the attendant; the arms and
hands acquite the same palsified, state, and the patients are
rendered incapable of feeding themselves. Thus for years

‘they exist, with no material alteration in the seize of the
body, or aspect of the countenance.

“* Whether they really undergo the agonies they appear
to suffer, I much doubt, as at this period their, minds ap-
pear idiotith ; they often flriek out with a vehemence that
may be heard at a considerable distance, but upon inquiring
about the seat of pain, they have been vague and indeci-
sive in their answers. When a cramp comes on the low-,
er extremities, involuntary mgtions draw up the legs,
and produce the most piercing fhrieks; and the features
of the face, altered by convulsive twitchings, excite pain
ina spectator. Jor some months before they die, these
fhrieks are more incefsant, and as violent as the strength |
will admit.”

After some other observations, which we are sorry our
limits prevent. us from inserting, the author remarks,*
that “ there issomething i spirituous liquors so injurious
to the human frame, that too much attention cannot be
paid to the discouraging the use of them.’ Many of the
unhappy victims I have attended, ascribe their suffering
to the unguarded advice of some medical practitioner, who
has, under the idea of wine turning sour on the stomach,
permitted a little drop of brandy and water to be substitu-
ted. Seldom, indeed, a day palses without introducing me
to the sick bed of some deluded object of misery; and it
is from the most decided conviction of the injury, that I
would guard every person from beginning with even a
little drop of this fascinating poison, which once admitted,
4s seldom, if ever, afterwards overcome. Whenever I hear
the patient plead for some substitute for beer or wine, un-

1792. extracts from Coxe’s travels. iV
der the supposition of their turning sour, my fears are alar~
med, and my endeavours excited, to pluck the unsuspici-
ous patient from the brink-of destruction; this plea is ne-
ver made “till the exhilarating influence of spirit has been
experienced; and not a moment fhould be lost in war-
ning such objects of their danger.”

- Our benevolent author goes on to point out the most
practicable means of gradually weaning such as have not
gone too far, from the use of this pernicious beverage, and
of accustoming the stomach to bear the use of whole-
some food ;—but seldom can this be practised.—Obstinate
habits cannot be counteracted,—The safest plan in this
case is to guard against the evil, and to fly from the temp-
tation before its fascinating power has been experienced.

: ; EXTRACTS FROM COXE’s TRAVELS.
Sir, To the Editor of the Bee.

ps extracts sent you formerly, and those that follow, will
be well known to many of your readers; to others of them
they will not; The former I hope will excuse the inser-
tion of these for the sake of the latter.

_‘* The peasantsin Rufsia, Mr Coxe says, are first those
that belong to the crown. Many of these the emprefs has
enfranchised, and allowed them, with others of the second
clafs who may obtain their freedom, which is not easily,
done, to settle in any part of her dominions, and to en-
roll themselves among the burghers or merchants, accor-
ding to their respective capitals ; by which fhe has given a
stability to their freedom, and afforded the strongest in-
citements to industry.

*'The second clafs are those who belong to individuals.
These are as much the property of the landholders as”
implements of agriculture or herds of cattle. ‘The lord is
restrained by no law, cither in the exaction of money oF

73 extracts from Coxe’s travels. July 18. -
in the mode of employing his vafsals. He is absolute
master of their time and labour; some he employs:in agri-
eulture, a few he makes his menial servants, and from
others he exacts an annual payment. Seme contribute four
or five (hillings a year, others who are engaged in traflic or
trade are afsefsed in proportion to their supposed profits,
Esaw-a mason who was rated at L. 6 per annum, a-smith at’
L. 12, and others as high L. 20. Any capital which they
may have acquired by their industry, may be seized, and
there can be no redreis ; as, according to the old feudal law,
which still exists, a slave cannot institute a procefs against:
his. master. Hence. it occasionally happens that several’
peasants who have gained a large capital, cannot purchase
their liberty for any sum; because they are subject.as long
as they continue slaves to be pillaged by their masters.

* The vafsals who work for their masters generally re-
ceiving their maintenance, always enjoy ina sufhcient:
abundance the common necefsaries. of life, and usually
spend any little money they are able to acquire-in clothes
or spirituous liquors. ‘Those who, in contradiction to this
‘general rule, save the profits which they may have earned
by their labour or by trade, conceal as much as pofsible
any acquisition of fortune, and frequently bury their mo-
ney under ground, this is one of the causes of the scarcity -
of silver currency.

“« By the new code of laws the enormous power of the«
lord over the persons of his vafsals, is reduced by restric-
tions. more consonant to the humane prineiples which dis-
tinguilh all the regulations of the present emprefs; and the
right of inflicting punifhment is lodged, where it ever
ought to be, in the hands of the public magistrate ; abuses,
however, still subsist, but must in time yield to the influ-
ence of such salutary institutions,

“1 am far from afserting, proceeds our author, that inhu-
manity is the general characteristic of the Rufsian nobili-
ty, or that there are not many persons who treat their

1792; extracts from Coxe’s travels. 49
vafsals with the utmost benevolence and justice. I am
also aware that several peasants are in such a flourifhing
condition as to have formed very considerable capitals
without dread of exaction; and:that some-even pofsefs lan-
ded estates under their master’s name; but if we consi-
der the-unhappy pleasure whichtoo many feel in tyran-
hising over their -inferiors, we have every reason to con-
elude that the generality of —— must still be ery
opprefsed.

“ A peasant may obtain his liberty, first, by manumifsion,
which; upon the death of the master, is frequently granted
‘to those who have served in: the capacity of his:immediate

-domestic ; second by-purchase™ ; third by serving in the ar-

my er navy,—after entering either of these they are for
ever free from their masters and.in all these cases the
emprefs has facilitated the means of obtaining freedom by
waving certain rights of the crown, which in some mea-

-sure obstructed the acquisition-of liberty, and fhe has ifsued

several laws in their favour, which’have given them some
alleviation of their bondage.

“ [ was surprised to find upon inquiry that no noble in
Rufsia had franchised his vafsals, in the same manner
as I before mentioned to have been practised in Po-
Jand ; but I may venture to predict that the time is not
far distant, although an almost general prejudice seems at
present to prevail with respect to the incapacity of the
peasants for receiving their liberty. And this perhaps
-may be true in the literal sense, as many of them, unlefs

properly instructed, would scarcely be enabled to derive a
solid advantage from their freedom.
“ In consequence of a present of athousand ducats sent in
1766 by an anonymous person, to the economicals ociety at
St Peterburgh, and at the desire ofthe said person, the soci-

* This must depeni on the will of the master who may pillage them
vif He'bas a mind, as is-sdid above, ;

t

80 extracts from Coxe’s travels. Fuly 18.
ety offered apremium of fifty ducats anda gold medal, value
twenty-five ducats to the author of the best difsertation on
the following question: ‘‘ Is it most advantageous to the
state that the peasant fhould pofsefs lands, ‘or only personal
effects; and to: what. point fhould that property be exten-
ded for the good of the public? “The premium was ad-
juged to the author ofa French éfsay in favour of the pea-
sants. The following judicious reflection of the present
emprefs perhaps comprehends in few words the sum of the
best arguments which may be advanced on this subject.
“ Agriculture can never flourifh in that nation where the
husbandmian pofsefses no property.” Thus far Mr Coxe.

The emprefs is certainly much to be esteemed for her
patronage of the arts and sciences, notwithstanding the am-
bition which appears to have excited many, of her measures
with regard to foreign powers. The death of her favourite
Potemkin, it is to be hoped, will stop all such measures for
the future. The example fhe has set the nobles by
franchising the peasants wo were her own property, is
amiable ; and it is to be hoped the nobles will soon ‘be con-
vinced that it is their interest to imitate her. Till this is
done it is evident from the above extracts that the pros-
perity of the country must be greatly retarded.

As to the ignorance of peasants, it would appear that.
‘the lords of such peasants are strangers to the sweets of li-
berty, since they are not more anxious that their fellow
men fhould enjoy them ; or are undcr the most, selfith pre-
judiced, and depraved principles. But this is not peculiar
to Rufsian lords; many among ourselves, notwithstanding
our boasted superior knowledge, are no strangers to these

ptinciples, witnefs the African slave trade.
** Oh! is there not some patriot, in whose pow’r
That best, that godlike luxury is plac’d,
*; Of blefsing thousands, thousands yet unborn,
‘Thro’ Jate_ posterity ?”?
/A FRIEND TO LIBERTY»

g4.

THE BEE,

TITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER,

FOR

WEDNESDAY, JULY 25.2792.

THE PANGOLIN, GREAT MANIS,
OR SCALY LIZARD.

Tre ‘powers with which animals are endowed for self
defence are greatly diversified, and very surprising.
‘The fkunk annoys its afsailants by emitting a fetid li-
-quor that is intolerably disagreeable to every other
creature; the tortoise rests secure from all annoy-
ance within its impenetrable thell; the hedge hog
rolls itself into a ball that presents a hedge of prickles
“on every side, that secures it from the attacks of
every large voracious animal.
VOL. x, % t

ie
82. the pangolin, or great manis. Fuly 25.

Somewhat similar to that is the armour with
which nature hath cloathed the mantis. All the up-
per parts of its body are closely covered with scales
of different sizes, which it can erect at pleasure, op-
posing to its adversary a formidable congeries of of-
fensive weapons. © The tiger, the panther, or leopard,
in vain attempt to devour it. The moment it per-
ceives the approach of a powerful enemy, it rolls it-
self up like a hedge hog, .and by that means secures
all the weaker parts of its body.

This, like most animals that are so powerfully
armed, is a timid harmlefs creature ; and though it
grows toa great size, sometimes measuring eight
feet in length, it never attacks any creature by vio.
lence.

It feeds upon ants, which it catches by laying out
_ its long red tongue, covered with an unctuous slime,
~acrofs the paths of those insects. It is a native of

“Formosa, and the Indian isles ; where these insects

are found in such quantities as to furnifh abundant
food for this large animal, many millions of which
it must devour in a day. It thus co-operates with
man, in destroying those voracious insects. It is |
also a native of Guinea.

Its fleth is much. esteemed for its delicacy, but it
is difficult to procure; as the animal avoids mankind,
and lives in, obscure retreats, in woods, and marfhy
places. With its peculiar habits we are of course
as yet but little acquainted,

ar ce

LUCUBRATIONS OF TIMOTHY HATRESERN:
40% For. the Bee.

~ Gad prosper well our noble king,
Our lives and safeties.all ; =
¥ think the people are gone mad—' 12, 33
' ‘The devil take them all. ._ ¢ Old ballad.

Tue prosperity of this country is at. present, greater
than it ever was at any former period: Her agricul-
aure improving, her manufactures advancing with a
rapidity formerly. unknown, her, trade’ extending
more and more every day: The persons and: pro-
perty of her subjects. protected at home and abroad,
beyond those of any other nation that now. is, or ever
was upon the globe. Yet. there are a set, of people
who complain loudly, and seem seriously to believe
that the government of this country is opprefsive ;
that the people are enthralled ; that their property: is
unjustly taken from them ; and that it is necefsary,
by arms, to force a total revolution in government,
and put this people into a state entirely different
from that in which they now are placed! Ego video
stultos; stultt vident me! Where fhall we find tay-
lors to: make’ fools caps enow for such a multitude?
Ahairbrained senator, whose upper works have been
a little deranged for some time past, publithed, a while
ago, a book containing some hundred pages of prose run
mad, in praise of kings and queens, ladies and squires,
and feats of ancient chivalry. The people ran to look
at this strange production, as they would have flocked
to see a rhinoceros or a mermaid ; and, to indulge
their curiosity, parted with their Aer Si iad fhillings

$4 Timothy Hairhpatd: Fubj age
without scruple. This filled the iilots of the re«
spectable senator, and made the pot to boil at home,
as we Scotsmen say. And where was the mighty
harm in thus enabling the hungry orator to get a
comfortable repast in his old age, after so many
years brawling in vain for that purpose? For my
own part, I congratulate him on his having been
able to obtain, at length, a little independent aeauis
hum in any way.

But in this land of enterprise, where so many
men are on the catch for lucrative employments, was
it to be supposed that this businefs fhould pafs over
unobserved ? Or that others would not with to pro«
" fit, as he had done, by the national folly? No, no,
this could not be; many tried to pick up a little
gleaning for themselves in the same way.

Among these, one was particularly conspicuous.
His notions were still more wild and extravagant
than those of his precursor; but he took the op-+
posite side of the question. This man, who pofsef-
sed more wit than judgement, more acutenefs than
penetration, publifhed some beoks, in which he ra-
_ ved with wonderful volubility against kings, and
priests, and dignities, and powers. All things, by
his system, fhould be changed. Those that used to
rule, fhould be made to obey. The belly said to the
head, I have no need of thee; therefore we will
cut thee off and cast thee from us ; and all the people

were called:
A wonder, a wonder, a wonder to see,
A kingdom with its head where its feet fhould be!

And they flocked with eagernefs to behold this
strange sight; and the money danced once more out

= 792. ‘Timothy Hairbrain. 85

of their pockets, into those of the writer, in great
abundance, to his no small emolument and satisfac=
tion.

But a wonder lasts only nine days. As the novel-
ty of these doctrines wore off, the people began to
neglect them, and the sale of these writings had
‘greatly abated; so that poor Tom was likely to be
‘obliged to wheel to the right about, and seek out ano-
ther country for vending his wares in; when, lo! a
band of heroes, armed at all points, rufhed out in his
‘support. Isay in his support ; though, in imitatioa
of the pickpockets of London, they found it would
best answer their purpose to make a mock attack
upon him, in order that they might thus be able the —
‘more effectually to serve him. They beheld with
seeming regret, it would appear, that Tom’s writings
‘began to pall upon the people, and to lie upon the
booksellers fhelves. And knowing that John Bull is
a headstrong kind of a beast, who may be /ed, but
cannot be easily driven, they, therefore, instead of
‘an advertisement recommending the book, publithed
a proclamation PROHIBITING the sale of such writings.
The effect was, what they had no doubt foreseen.
The sale was instantly augmented a thousand fold*.

" Perhaps there may be a little exaggeration here. I know that in a
sma!l town in the north of Scotland, before the proclamation, there was
juet one copy of Payne’s pamphlet; and the bookseller of the place de-
clared three weeks ago, that he had, since. then, sold seven hundred and
fifty copies of it. Anda bookselles in Edinburgh told me that ke had,
before the proclamation, a good many copies of it that lay so long on hig
hand, that he would gladly have sold them all at two fhillings a copy.
He has since sold the whole of these, and many. more, at three fhillings
and sixpence each, Edit.

86 Timothy Hairbrain. —— Fuly,24
The prefses in the most distant corners of the coun-
try groaned under the burden of throwing off sur-
reptitious editions of these works ; commifsions came
from all parts for the book that 1s forbidden to be sold,
so eager are the people to see what kind of a thing
it is that the dng delighteth to honour. Those that
could read, pored their eyes out in looking at it; and
those who could not read, listened with astonifhment
to the wonderous things they heard. For they never.
once before suspected, what they now are perfectly
convineed of, that they are wiser and better men -
than their superiors, and much more capable of di-
recting the affairs of the nation than they are.

Now what good can result to the nation from all
this fufs and fracas, which our wise rulers have
thought proper to excite about this foolifh affair, I
am net able to foresee. And whether the ministers
in all this businefs have displayed most of rogue or of
fool, I pretend not to know. But this I can easily
say, that they must either fit themselves: with the
fools cap ; or we fhall be forced to lend them the
other. Which I thus demonstratively prove.

These writings were either proper to be read by
the people, or they were not proper. _ If they wer
proper to be read, the ministry acted a foolifh part 1)
condemning what they ought to have approved of
and in exciting a bustle and ferment in the natio’
which they ought rather to have prevented. . If thes
writings were not proper to be read by the people
then they acted a wicked part in thus compelling t’
people, 2s I may say, universally to read them.

1492). Timothy Hairbrain. 87
leave those who are wiser than myself to solve this
important dilemma.

To conelude the farce, however, his: same proclae
mation, which almost every man in the nation con-
siders as foolifh at least, if not highly pernicious,
must be publicly praised by all the great aggregate
bodies of people in Britain. The mail coaches are
creaking under the load of addrefses flowing from
every corner of the country, thanking the king for his
paternal care of his people; and commending the mi-
nister for ifsuing a proclamation for supprefsing sedi-
tious writings ; while the same coaches in return are
ready to break down with loads of these seditious wri-
tings, to satisfy the curiosity of the worthy addrefsers.
Individuals who sign these, most frankly admit, in
their private capacity, that no mode . they could devise
would have proved so efficacious for difseminating
these writings they call seditious, as the very procla-
mation they applaud. May we not now join in one
grand chorus, to the tune of

Tantara rara fools all, fools all!

Your foreign readers will no doubt be surprised
at this just picture I draw of my countrymen ; and
will be particularly at a lofs to account for the /ast
part of this conduct. They have heard that the vow
populi is the vox Dez. For their satisfaction I fhall
add a few words, to let them see what is the nature of
that Deity to which they offer up sacrifice and ado-
ration. To most of your Britifh readers this informa-
tion might have been superfluous.

Men in public stations, and public bodies of men,
in this free country, have always hopes of obtaining,

88 Timothy Hairbrain. — July 25
one day, from the administrators of government, some
favour or other. Now, though, like the purchasers of
lottery tickets, they well know that not one hundred
thousandth part of the favours that are expected can.
ever be conferred; yet every one hopes that he him-
self may chance to be the lucky gainer. Hence every
one is eager to put himself forward as far as he can,
that he may be in Fortune’s way. And as they know
that a minister will consider it as a much higher,
compliment to him, when they disregard common
sense and propriety for his sake, than if they merely
do what prudence and good sense would approve of, .
they must have a much better chance of getting his
favour when they follow him where he has evident-
ly done wrong, than where he had only acted a wise
and patriotic part. This. perfectly accounts for that
phrenetic zeal which has displayed itself on the pre-
sent, as well as on many other occasions. What else
could have induced the zmdividuals of the congregated
addrefsers to discover such extreme anxiety to have
their names severally specified in the addrefses? A
splenetic observer would peevifhly cry out, O servum
pecus! But I, for my part, who have not one drop
of gall in my composition, consider these as men nei-~
ther better nor worse than other men, alt over the
world.

As I myself, Mr Printer, am a solitary being, be-
low the hope of ever attracting ministerial favour,
and above the fear of ever deserving punifhment, I
look upon the world, as it goes, with akind of philo-
sophic indifference, which allows me the full use of
my faculties, while the perceptions of so many others,

Th

/

1792... Timothy, Hairbrain. 89

_of much better talents than myself, are lulled to

sleep, or roused into phrenzy, by hope or by fear. I
therefore seldom admire without reserve; nor con-

demn any one without mercy ; for when men are
neighbour-like, what more fhould we expect?

Every one, Mr,Printer, strives only to get a taste
of the loaves and fifhes. The ministry wih to hold,
as long as they can, what they have got. Their fa-

-vourers hope to gain by sycophantising, what the op-

position expects to force by bullying; and though
they sometimes fall upon devices for that purpose,

+ that an impartial person cannot commend, the same

sort of thing is found to take place in all other em-
_ployments.

The afsociation for a reform of the constitution is
evidently one of these culpable devices. There are
in this afsociation many respectable names; and so
much the greater pity for it. Had they been all log-
gerheads I could have supposed they were misled, as
many an honest numbscull has been before them.
But there are men in this society who must see, that,

* zo endeavour to rouse the multitude to force a re-

form in government, is, of all foolith projects, the most
pernicious that could be adopted. It is as if they
appealed to an afsembly of porters to decide on the
merits of Sir Isaac Newton’s principia. They know
all this very well; but they no doubt hope, that, by
rgusing this many headed monster, such a confusion
may be produced, as, in the sctamble, might leave an
opening for them to creep into the saddle of power.
_ Jn vain do they plead in their excuse that Pitt, and
~ Richmond, andothers, who nowsit snugly atthe helm,

OL. Se. M , +

~

go | Timothy Hairbrain. . SFuly 25.
attempted a plan exactly of the same kind they now
have thought of. They have perfectly succeeded in
proving this, it is true; but what does the nation
gain by that? Two blacks do not make a white in
this country. And it is but a small consolation to
the people, tothave proof positive laid before their
-eyes, that the rogues that are out of place are equal-
ly unprincipled with those that are in. I fear I must
now change my tune, but instead of adopting the
fafhionable French air ca ira, ¢a ira; we fhall keep
by our good old Englith ditty,
Tantara rara rogues all, rogues all.

It will not be expected, while I entertain such an
opinion of the rulers, and of the ruled in this nation,
that I fhould think there is nothing in this country
that requires amendment. God forbid that I fhould
ever entertain so monstrous an opinion! May God
mend us all, say I; for we have much need of it:
and every thing that comes through the hands of such
bunglers, must stand in need of constant amendment.
But since we are such a parcel of rogues and fools,
common sense requires, that, in this said work of
amendment, we fhould proceed with all due caution, so
as to be sure, that, in attempting to stop up one hole,
we do not make a dozen, that are each of them worse
than the old one. Instead, therefore, of putting ten
thousand hammers at once into the hands of men
who never had a hammer in their hands before, and
inviting them to fall pell mell to work on the old
eauldron of the constitution, I would be for em-
ploying some good experienced hands to look conti-
nually around it; and wherever a flaw begins to ap-
pear, let a remedy for that particular evil be quietly,

1792. Timothy Hatrbrain. 91
and cautiously applied ; always recollecting the good
old adage, that ‘‘ a stitch in time saves nine.” Let
the master tinkers, then, who have served a regular
apprenticefhip, be continually on the watch to see that
nothing goes far wrong ; but, as to the fellows with
strong arms only, and weighty hammers, give them
some common job to work at, where, if they do no
good, they can do little harm. Who would ever think
of employing a blacksmith to repair a Harrison’s time-
keeper ? Who would think of listening to the ravings
ofan illiterate mechanic, whothought that he had dis-
_ covered the longitude, as thousands of such have se-
riously believed they had done? But the constitution
of a government is 2 much more complicated machine
than a time-piece ; and it requires much greater ta-
lents to discover, a prior?, what would be right or
wrong, with regard to it, than to discover the longi-
tude. The speculations on this’subject of More, Har-
rison, Locke, Montesquieu,Hume, Stewart,.and Smith,
are well known to be, in many particulars, only im-
practicable reveries. If the minds of such men then
-havebeen unable to grasp this wide subject, in all its.
extent, what are we to expect will be the result of the
speculations of butchers and taylors, portersand dray~-
men, when they pretend to decide upon it? These
are all respectable members of society when they
act in their own spheres, but when they depart from
it they become truly ridiculous.—‘‘ Non omnia poj-
sumus omnes,’ is an old and a just adage. ‘‘ There
are two points in politics,” says a very ingenious
writer, whose works are too little known*, “ very
hard to compafs. One is, to persuade legislators that
® Bentham’s view of the Panopticon p. 66,

92 Timothy Hairbrain. July x5.
they do not understand fhoemaking better than
fhoemakers; the other i is, to persuade fhoemakers
that they do not understand legislating better than
legislators. The latter point is particularly difficult
in our own dear country ; but the other is the har-
dest of all hard things every where.”

These, Mr Editor, are the plain thoughts of a plain
man, exprefsed plainly and without disguise. I
fhall conclude these lucubrations with an illustration,
by way of variety.

The constitution of Britain may be likened to
a rose, which, though one of the most beantiful ob-
jects in nature, still’ is armed with thorns, that
sometimes prick those to the quick who come near
it. This rose, however, with all its defects, is
the finest object of its kind that is to’ be met with in
nature; and may therefore be called the rose wnzgue.
It was picked up by our forefathers, some thousand
yeats ago, in the wilds of Germany, where it was a
poor, weakly, stinted thing; but being transplanted
into the Britifh soil, it there took root and throve
amazingly. -It has been there carefully nursed and
improved by incefsant culture, till it has gradually
acquired a health, a vigour, a magnitude, that never
had a parallel upon the globe. Its foliage is freth ;
and it yields every year such an amazing abundance of
beautiful and fragrant flowers, as to be the astonith-
ment of all the universe. People from the most dis-
tant nations come to look at and admire it. But still
these cursed thorns give infinite umbrage to some
finical gardeners, who will be satisfied with nothing
fhort of perfection. These thorns are, to such pers

~

\

1792. Timothy Hairbrain. ‘i ae
sons, so very disgusting, that they can see nothing
else. There is no beauty in this rose they say ; it is
altogether an abomination !—Yes! say they, with
Jonah, in a pet, ‘ we do well to be angry with this
thing, even unto death.’ ,

At last a bold empiric appears, who, like Paracel-.
sus, pretends to have discovered an infallible cure for
this disorder. “Pluck up this rose-by the root,
says he. The soil in which it grows is rank and
foul, and worn out with age, which occasions those
vile prickles that. distrefs us. Pluck it out by the
root, Isay, without fear. Trench up the soil on which
it grows ; bury deep that vile fat earth which ge-
nerates this disease ; and bring up some poor mould
from the bottom, in which no noxious weeds will find
nourifhment. Then by sprinkling it with a guantum
sufficit of our newly discovered manure, and planting
the rose afrefh, after lopping off all its spiny bran-
ches, it will spring up with much greater vigour
than it ever did before: Its beautiful branches will be

' smooth as a willow; its flowers will be more abun-
dant, more fragrant ; and in every respect superior
to any thing that ever has been seen in the world.
Pluck it up, I say; make haste,—every hour you de~
Jay is only a lofs of time. Ill answer for the conse-
quences. Fear nothing.”

* Nay, nay, says the owner of this fine plant,—not
“quite so fast friend, if you please. It has required a
"great attention and many years incefsant care, to bring
this plant to its present perfection. The soil, you see,
is perfectly congenial to it; the climate suitable. Tt
has long resisted storms and hurricanes that have ruined

many other plants, that appeared, zu their youth, to pof-

94 Timothy Hairbraim. Fuly 25
sefs much vigour. I must first beg leave to know,
in case your znfa/lible manure fhould prove like the z-

fallible phial of Paracelsus, how I fhall be able to re- —

store that to life, which is already dead? A garden-
er, like yourself, came last year to this place from

France, with a great variety of fine plants, which he —

afsured me, in the most positive manner, were all ge-
nuine; and I might trust my life to their proving
true. He sold to me a plant which he said would
produce S/ack roses. I paid him a high price for it:
See there it grows,—a puny plant it is; andthe few
roses it bears are of a pale pink colour. Now, what
would become of me fhould you turn out as great a
quack as he was? There is only this single plant of
its kind in the universe; fhould it be once lost I ne-
ver may find the like again. No, no, friend; were
Baron Van Haak himself to rise from the dead,
and afsert the omnipotence of this manure, I would
not take his word for it. I fhould tell him to go and
rest in peace with his fathers. Nothing fhall ever
induce me to destroy this valuable plant, while it is, |
evidently pofsefsed of a health and vigour that no
other plant of the same sort ever could equal.

¢] know indeed that it has spines. This is one of
those inevitable evils which nature hath annexed toi
all sublunary things. But look around and com-
pare it with all other plants of the same kind you
have ever seen! How poor,—how puny,—how insig~
nificant are they, when compared with it! Try your
manures if you think proper upon other soils. They
have evidently occasion for it. There, the puny plants,
in place of flowers, carry not even leaves to cover their

1792. Timothy Hair’ra‘n. 95
naked stalks. Immense swarnis of insects suck out
their vital sap; and no sooner does a leaf appear
than a caterpillar siezes on it, warps it up like a gar~
ment around her, and soon consumes it. It is true
that a few insects sometimes are found attempting
_to prey upon this. plant of mine too; but I have
‘people constantly upon the watch to brufh them off
with a feather. By this gentle kind of remedy we have
contrived to keep them under ; and though we never
can eradicate these insects entirely, we so diminith
their power, that they do no material damage to the
plant: And if, at a time, a caterpillar fhould chance
to seize upon a leaf, it is soon discovered, and picked
off by hand, and singly destroyed. Under this mode
of management has our rose flourifhed for ages ; and
has at length attained the envied pre-eminence it
now enjoys: And though it, indeed, cannot boast of
perfection, yet by the same mode of management,
and the blefsing of heaven, we hope to be able to
make it attain a still higher degree of beauty.

* Go elsewhere then, Mr Quack; and sell your
boasted wares. Britain is not the place for you to
succeed in.’

Here ends, for the present, the lucubrations of

Timotuy HarrsraIn *,

* The above remarks of our friend Hairbrain, many will think, are
more plain than pleising. And on the first glance, we were in some doubt
whether the i inserting of them might not give umbrage to some of our

readers. But, on a second perusal, there seemed to be in good truth so
much good humour, and so very little gall’ in every part of them, that it
seemed to be impofsible any one could be seriously displeased to see our
facetious correspondent making game ofall who came in his way at he pat-
sed along If any one thould find himself disposed to be piqued at seeing

96 remarks on-Thunderproof’sefsays. Fuly 25.

Scribendi recte sapere est et. principium et fons. Horace.

A little learning is a dangerous thing,

Drink deep, or taste not the Pierean spring: Porz.
Sir, To the Editor of the Bee.

As fire is struck out by the friction of certain bodies
so truth frequently fhines forth amidst the collisi-
ons and jarrings of opposite opinions and sentiments.
‘For this reason the following animadversions on a
very censurable performance, entitled ** remarks on
the political progrefs of Britain, by Timothy Thun.
derproof,” will hardly need ‘an apology to one whose
chief aim in his present lucubrations is the discove-
ry of truth, as well as the difsemination of useful
knowledge.

I fhall confine myself entirely to those ‘‘ remarks,”
‘contained in your Bee of February 29th ; not that
these are more faulty than their predecefsors, but
because I fhould otherwise swell my letter toa very
inconvenient size.

Mr Thunderproof’s arguments, if such they may be
dalled, hardly merit a serious refutation. He seems
to be a gentleman whose temper of mind is soured by
disappointment, perhaps by misfortune, and on that

his favourites treated with a little freedom, he has only to goon a little,
and he will be put into good humour, by seeing those he does not like be-
_ come in their turn the butt of this drol! ; who, like the wife of Bath,(not Chau-
cer’s wife, but the old Scotch wife of Bath) reads every one their ditty, in or-
der to silence them; to humble their pride, by fhewing them that they are
themeelves no better than they fhould be, and that therefove they have no
right to hold others in contempt, who have not perhaps been so fortunate
as themselves i their journey through life. Men are perhaps as neatly
alike by their parity if follies, as by any other circumstance. Edit,

14792.. remarks on Thunderproof’s efsays. 97
account ought no doubt to be treated with greater
lenity than his performance deserves.

The first thing Mr Thunderproof quarrels with, in :
these latter remarks, is the fortrefs of Gibraltar, the
retention of which, by Britain, he considers as highly
¢riminal as well as absurd. Whether this garrison has
produced advantages to Britain equivalent to the en-
ormons expence it has cost her, may perhaps be diffi-
cult to say: Could it be razed to the ground, or over- -
whelmed by.an earthquake, or some convulsion of na-
ture, without oceasioning the lofs of any lives, either
of these..events might perhaps be auspicious to this
country; but as we can have no reasonable expecta- -
tion of getting rid of it in this manner, it is certain
that if we do give it up, it. must pafs. into the
hands of the Spanifh monarch, or -at least into those
of some of the other European: princes ; and_its im-
portance is such as must make. it add considerably to -
the weight and consequence of the sovereign to whom
it belongs. Now, as it is asettled maxim in politics, -
that in proportion as any nation rises in strength and ~
power, its neighbours sink into insignificance and ob-
scurity, perhaps this consideration alone may afford a »
sufficient reason for its retention; not to mention that
it fhelters our fléets in the time of war; that it rene -
ders our. commerce in the Mediterranean and Le-
vant more secure than that of any other .European
mation; and, besides, that it materially contributed |
to the preservation of our West India islands in our -
Jate wars with France and Spain, .Mr T as it is
natural to suppose, would fain make us believe that
these wars, on the part of the latter power, drew their -
origin chiefly from our pofsefsion of this fortrefs. .

VOL, x. N

‘

98 rémarks on Thunder proof 'sefsays. Fuly 25.
He surely cannot be ignorant that they originated
altogether in the family compact, which was un-
doubtedly powerful enough. to give birth to them,
without the intervention of any other cause.

The war of the Spanifh succefsion, whicn, on, the
part of the allies, was undertaken solely to preserve
an equality in the balance of power among the En-
ropean ‘princes, was evidently a wise and necefsary
war in its beginning, whatever it was before its con+
clusion ; ‘yet Mr T——— ‘afserts, in defiance of
common sense, and in his usual petulant manner,
that ‘* England, witha degree of insolence, unmatch-
‘* ed in history, interfered in favour of’an Austriaw
‘¢ candidate.”. This Mr T no doubt admires
asa smart exprefsion. Indeed* the quality of ‘smart-.
nefs is all that he séems to aim at ;—common sense
und régard to truth are out of the question. Mr
4 ee fhould, however, reflect, that though a
smart and lively expreision, when it conveys a mean-
ing, affords us much ‘pleasure, yet, when it ‘conveys
mo meaning at all, or cevers an absurd or an une -
founded afsertion, it is the more reprehensible, that
Gt proves the writer, though ignorant and weak, to
be neverthelefs vain and afsuming. Of this kind;
too, is the following ‘paragraph, ‘whieh is’ indeed as

extravagant as any ever committed to paper. “After
praising James 1. for his pacific measures, Mr T-
adds, “‘ Had it been pofstble’ to prolong the life of
‘¢ this monarch to the present day,” (an uninterrup-
ted. peace would no doubt have followed as.a necefsa-
‘ry consequence,) ‘¢ Britain would long before this
“*¢ time have advanced toa state of cultivation not in-
‘¢ ferior to that of China.” “James was by no means

1392. ~ remarks on Thunderproof’s.efsays | 99.
a watlike monarch, because the bent of his mind lay.
more to books than to the bustle of war; but can
any man be so void of intellect as to maintain this
ridiculous paradox, that peace can always be preser-
ved, consistently with national safety, because a par-
ticular prince may,-and did preserve it for a consi-
derable time, by putting up, in a dastardly manner,
with the insults and buifetings of the nations around
him? It is certain, indeed, that nations, like mer,
are always quarrelling among themselves, and en-
eroaching upon each other’s privileges ; and it is no
_lefs certain that insults and encroachments of this
kind inerease according to the backwardnefs or pu-
sillanimity discovered by any particular state in de-
‘fending itself, and repelling the invaders ; nor will
they be discontinued tillsuchstate be entirely stripped
_of its commerce and its appendages, and itself, at last,
dismembered and parcelled out among its more en-
terprising and warlike neighbours: At least we
must fairly acknowledge that this would be the ne-
cefsary consequence, were it not for the wise and
-cautious policy of the balance of power, so well
known to modern times ; though this prudential sys-
tem was entirely overlooked in the case of the dis-
-memberment of Poland, I] think about twenty years
ago by the Shakespeare of kings. In fact it would
be as ridiculous and unaccountable in a nation, to
behold with indifference the insults and infractions
of its neighbours, as it Would be in a man to allow
himself to be beaten, or run through the body, with-
out making any exertion in his own defence.
_-On this principle we were under the necefsity of
resenting thé late infraction of the Spaniards, though

‘700 = remarks on Thunderproof’s efsays.' Suly 25.
“Mr T—— condemns us for it, as having acted a-
gainst the pacific system. The monarch already’
mentioned was the best of kings, and Sir Robert’
Walpole the best of ministers; while lord Chatham
is reprobated as ‘‘ the worst minister that ever any
‘** nation was cursed with.”

Upon’ the whole, every thing is making a rapid

progrefs to destruction. ‘The constitution is nought

but a ‘* conspiracy of the rich against the poor.” It
is, however, sufficient to excite laughter in the most
puritanical countenance, that the only instance he
brings forward in proof of all these accumulated
evils, is that of an old woman,who “ had been in the
‘¢ practice of supplying her neighbours with half-
‘* penny-worths of snuff; but is now in an excise
‘* court, and will probahly be -soon reduced to beg-
‘* pary.”

From Mr T——’s glancing at Ireland, and the
dean of St Patrick, in some of his former remarks,
it would seem that he considers himself another
“Swift, risen to reform the world; and is therefore
determined that all things fhall be wrong, that he
may have the merit of setting them to rights. In
this point of view, indeed, he very much resembles
the celebrated knight of la Mancha, whose behavi-
our, upon the whole, he seems to have laid down us
‘a pattern for himself. He must, neverthelefs, ac-
knowledge, that his imitation of this great prototype
and master, has not been slavifh; we must even fairly
allow himthe merit of making one considerable im-
provement. For whereas the renowned Don Quixote
was pleased totake unte himselfa fair lady for a Dul-

1792. remarks on Thunderproof’s efsays. LO
cinea, this same disciple of his, in the true spirit of
-knight errantry, hus adopted a poor old snuff-sell-
ing matron.; and this is the more generous, that he
tells us himself the is now almost reduced to begga-
ry. To be sericus: This .gentleman may, indeed,
fancy himself another Swift, or a very great politician,
but it is.certain that the wiser part of your readers,
consider him, in this respect, as very much resem-
bling the frog in the fable..

If Mr T—— continues ‘his remarks, I may some
time -or other trouble you with another letter. In
the mean time I fhall beg leave to conclude with a
reflection, that, I hope, you will not think altogether
unseasonable.

There is nothing in nature more ridiculous than
-that universal propensity in all inferior geniuses’to
ape their superiors. Incapable of reaching their high
_erattainments, they generally content themselves with
imitating their imperfections. Men of illustrious
talents diffuse around their very errors, an ingenu-~
ity and a splendour, that dazzle and ensnare the
‘bulk of mankind; while the productions of inferior
writers, stuffed with these very defects and imper-
fections they have so industriously gleaned, pofsefs
not a single ray of that flame of genius, so indispen-~
sibly necefsary to render them anywise supportable.
‘Tam, Sir, with much respect, your most humble

servant, MiIsozBrontes™*,
Geo. Square,
March 3.1792.

* In proof of that impartiality wh'ch the Editor hopes he ever fhall
be found to adhere to, and on no other account, the above piece has been
@iuctantly admitted, The peonalities it contains, ase far 1em what

rez reading memorandums. Suly 25»

,

READING MEMORANDUMS.
For the Bee.

** No pleasure is comparable tothe standing upon
the vantage ground of truth, (an hill not’to be com-
manded, and where ‘the air is always clear and se-
rene,) and to see the errors, and wanderings, and
mists, and tempests in the valley below: So always,
however, that this prospect be with pity, and not |
with swelling-of pride. Certainly it is heaven up-
on earth to have a man’s mind move im-charity, rest
in providence, and turn upon the poles of truth.”

Lord Bacon’s-efsays. ;

‘¢ Tt is as natural to die as to be born; and to alittle
mfant, who anticipates no evil, perhaps the one is as
little painful as the other.

** He that dies in an earnest pursuit, is like one that
¥s wounded in hot blood,:-who, ‘for the time, scarce
feels the hurt ; and therefore a,mind, fixed and bent
wpon somewhat that is good and praise worthy, does
thereby avert the terrors of death.” Bacon.

he wifhes to see in this miscellany, and hopes.no-one will.so far presume
upon this indulg-nce as to expect a s milar mcde of writing will be ex-
‘ce uraged by him. “Should this be permitted we might expect rejoinde:s
and replies without end, where every one contended cnly for victory, or
to display the stretch of his own talents. To avoid such uselefs discufti-s 7
ons, the Editor begs leave to inform this writer and others, that he will
carefully reject such pieces as appear to him to be. calculated for that pur- —
pose chiefly, by whorssever they be writien, or on whatever subject, —
‘ Where men differ in opinien from.each other, and calmly adduce argu- —
ments in favour of that opinion, without any personal allusions, they thall,
be attended to with all pofsible tencernefs, if they do rot run out to tog |
greatatength. This conduct he thinks fhould give-no just cause of
offence to any candid person,

EH 2.0 reading memorandums. ‘Daz

What a noble incitement does the great lord Veru-
lam give here to fhun zd/ee/s, and to bé up and be
doing in behalf of our families and country! Be-
lieve me, said that glorious philosopher, that when a
man has obtained worthy ends and expectations, the
sweetest cantiele'to his. soul will be a ‘* Lord now
lettest thou thy servant depart mm peace.”

‘Death ‘hath tins also, (adds he,) that it openeth
the gate to deserved fame, and extinguitheth envy.

*¢ Extinctus amabitur idem.”

(eedeedeal

‘ The perpetuity by generation is common to beasts:
But memory, merit, and novle works, are proper to
men: And surely we fhall observe that the noblest
works-and-foundations have proceeded. from childle/s
men, who have sought .to exprefs the images of
their minds, where those of their bodies. have been
wanting, or have failed.” Bacon..

. An cum statuas et wnagines, non animorum simul-
acra sed carporum, studiose multi summit homines relix
querunt ; consiliorum relinquere; ao virtutum nostra-
tum effigicn nanne.multo malle debemus, susmmis ingenits
exprefsam et politam ?
Ciceronis Oratio pro Archia poeta, Cap. xii.
May these truly wise Sid important reflections
find. their way to the eyes, hearts, and understand-_
ings of those who are seeking, in vain, for happi-
nefs in frivolous pr-rsuits; and, may they be excited .
to-cultivate the universal pafsion .by deeds that may
render it pleasing, permanent, and respectable ! Nor
Iet the softer sex imaginejthat they are exempted

104 reading Menoranalms. Fuly 255
from the laudable pursuit of legitimate fame. How
many families have been blefsed and restored by the
prudence and economy of mothtrs and wives who
have survived their hufbands !

What a bounty they have to:improve their minds,
and to elevate their thoughts, that they may be able
to imbue the tender minds of their children with
useful knowledge, and with the principlés of moral
sentiment, without. which nothing excellent can bew
expected when they rise to maturity.

By degrees

The human blofsom blows, and every day,

Soft as it rol!s along, fhews sume new charm, ;
The fathe.’s tustre and the mother’s bloom,

Then infant reason grows apace, and calls

For the kind hand of an afsiduous care; }
Delightful tafk! to rear thetender thought, -
‘To teach the young idea how to thoot,
To pour the frefh ins*ruction o’er the mind,

To breathe th’ inspiring spiric, and to plant

The generous purpose in the glowing breast. - B.

1
E
; |
Tue dear and tender attachments that bind parents’.
to their children, serve also as a subsequent and more ;
affecting zuptial band for uniting those parents. more.
intimately to each other, and draw about them .a j
new circle of interest and of love. ‘ ;

Foreknowlege of evil, would but double the mis
sery ; and foreknowledge of good, would but de-
prive us of hope, by certainty ; and hope is a biefoing
perhaps pretenails to pofsefsion. i

Happinefs is not the gift of riches alone, but de-
pendent on a right way of thinking, and a preper re-
gulation of our pafsions and appetites.

anaes Of. a

POETRY.

___ SONNET.
For the Bee.

Tyo? Salton * thy domains unfhelter’d seem,
And lefs than each adjacent village fair,

Yet with that light which mem’ry’s clafsic beam
Around thee throws, can nought of theirs compare

2 In thee Dunbar; of Scottifh bards supreme,
Inhal’d his earliest draught of vital air 5°

Dunbar, whose song with fancy’s brilliant gleam,
Conjoins the comic boast of humour rare.

-. Dunbar, whose mystic Rose and Thistle twine,
Unfading glory may so beldly claim,
» Whose Golden Terge f, enrich’d with forms divine,
. Shall. hang for ever in the hall of fame!

Hail charming bard, to thee some future day,
“Perhaps my critic pow’rs may larger tribute pay.
Salton, Fune 14. 1792. A. T.£

en -
ooOooooooeoeoea————— S00 OmWOonmn"om———--es ara

- MODERN REFINEMENT, OR A CHARA€TER OF THE TIMES.
AN EPISTLE TO A FRIEND ON THE NEW YEAR.
For the Bee.
~€ Nona atas agitur, pejora que secula ferri
- © Temporibus, quorum sceleri non invenit ipsa,
<< Nomen, et a nullo posuit natura metallo.” Juv. Sat. 13.

Worse than the iron age !—these modern times
Are so depraved, that nature, for their crimes,
* Not in her basest metal finds a name.

*Waurte I the prevalence of vice bewail,
My friend, my genius, my Maecenas, hail !

» By thee inspir’d, and prompted by thy praise,

. J first presum’d to scan my infant lays 5
And now more versant in Apollo’s laws)
Present them to the world for its applause:

~@ The village of Salton in East Lothian.

' +The Thistle and Rose, the Golden Terge, (fhield) both allegorical

~ poems, and es"zemed the best of Dunbar’s compositions.
A critical account’of the ancient poets of Scotland is still wanted ;

for although’Mr Pinkerton has begun to tread in that. walk, yet the field
is so wide, and the views that may. be taken of that subject so various 5
that there is here room for many labourers, without interfering with each
other. We hope our ingenious correspondent will not relinquith the design
pointed at in these lines; and sincerely wish hica health and spirits hap~
pily to accomplifh it. Edit.

VOL, X. ° t

|

106

postry. July 25.
When I appeara candidate for famey _
Grant me— —! the fhelter of thy name,

Dear to thy friends, and to the muses.deary

Thy poet greets thee on the new born year.

If in th’ event, ’tis happiest for thee,

May heaven prolong a life so dear to me!

And if to future times my rhymes descend,

Let them record that— —was my friend 5

Thy sweet retreat I hope to see e’re long,

Meanwhile accept the tribute of a song.
Hail Ninety-two! while yet unstain’d with blame,

Erect new trophies to Britannia’s fame!

But check the grofs corruption of the times,’

Great is her glory, greater are her crimes !

Now let the wise, the good, the sons of light,

To stem the torrent, all their pow’rs unite 5

Now let religious feuds, and party: zeal,

Yield to the int’rest of the public weal. -

My feeble, best endeavours, I°ll exert,

Nor, while I live, the glorious cause desert.

May he, whose grace can prosper the event,
Accept the means and blefs the instrument!
One sinner from the error of his ways

To save, the labours of a life repays.

What will this naughty world come to at last ?
Each rising age more vicious than the past;
Refined in viee, in all the arts of fraud 5
Lefs by divine than human justice awd!

We fhun the villany of ruder times,

Though for more secret more malignant crimes.
Under the mask of friendfhip, void of fhame,
We now betray and wound our neighbours fame.
Candour, ‘benevolence, truth, justice, fail ;
Self-love, deceit, iniquity, prevail.

Dire luxury, with all her train of ills,

The heart inflames, with pride and pafsion fills,
Taught. by our sires contempt for all above,
Like hopeful sons we on their crimes improve.
Th’ exploded doctrines of the sacred page,
The scorn and jest of this licentious age;

Vice like its author, boldly walks abroad,

We laugh at virtue and insult our God.

We own (such is our character at best)

No God but gold, no tie but interest.

By mercenary motives all are led ;

Faith from the earth has with réligion fied.

Tn fhort no action is too mean, too base,

For this perfidious execrable race. line
How vainly boasts the self-entighten’d sagey 3
Th’ unrivall’d wisdom of this impious age!

Such, so corrupt the manners of the times,

The world must sink beneath the burthen of her crimes.

St Andrews Fan. 1. 1792. TuEoLoGus,

#792." gleanings of literature. 104

GLEANINGS OF LITERATURE.
Sr, _ To the Editor of the Bee.

Axrsoven the authors of the theory of Moral Sentiments,.
and the Rambler, have contributed to bring into discredit
every kind of miscellaneous and periodical publication.
I remain perfectly convinced of their utility, on account of
their tendency to diffuse knowledge among the middling and
poorer ranks of society, and to attract the notice of id-
lers and triflers. I have therefore from the beginning been
a friend to your undertaking, which, without descending to
foment the frivolity and lubricity of the times, applies it-
self judiciously to that love of novelty and variety, which
-distinguifhes cur modern world from the plodding world
of our fathers.

With a view to contribute somewhat to the pasture of
the Bee, I have thought that it might not be amifs to set
an example of forming an article in your miscellany, com-
posed of pertinent selections from the epistolary correspon-
dence of persons of learning and taste, which have not
been publifhed ; thereby preserving many curious, useful,,
and agreeable particulars, which might otherwise be final-
ly lost, either from the imadequacy of the whole pieces,
in which they are contained, to appear before the public,
or the difficulty of rendering them in that thape profitable
either to the editor or to. the reader.

Many important facts, many vivacious and. agreeable re-
marks, many beautiful and prolific thoughts, are to be found,
"Scattered amid the rubbith of trivial correspondence ; and

one cannot but wifh that they fhould be picked up and:

preserved.

* Every person of literary-eminence, indeed atmost every:
person of taste, sentiment, and social inclination, must, in

108 ~ _ peanings of literature. July 250
the course of an ordinary lifetime, be pofsefsed of many
specimens of fruitful imagination, painful investigation,
or light brilliant and agreeable remark or reflection, in the
letters of his friends, and, without impropriety, may render
them anonymoysly useful to society at large. Retired
from the busy world, my own correspondence has -not
been extensive ; yet it contains many emanations of the

human mind divine, that may be useful and agreeable to a.

remote posterity, and ought not to be involved in the
general heretical catastrophe that generally attends the
letters of the vulgar. Why fhould a fine thought be
doomed to inclose a pound of butter, a roll ‘of tobacco; or

to singe a pulict, when it might light up a brilliant flame .

in the mind of a poet, or furnifh matter for the page of a
philosophical historian ?

Having said so much, Sir, by way of apology, for offering
my scanty gleanings as a specimen of what I with to pro-
mote, I fhall proceed frankly to present them to your rea-
ders, hoping that they may hereafter call forth such as
may be found more worthy of their attention. I am, Sir,
your humble servant, Paryaius Pracursor.

“ I met yesterday with a line of Martial that pleased
me much, and I will here give it asit may have escaped
your observation.

*¢ Fortuna multis dat nimis, nulli satis.””

* As the goddefs has not thought proper to istinasille
you or your humble servant by the first part of the line,
1 would fain hope, that, in one of her whims, the will give
usthe sats. But alas! what is that satis ? our mellifluous
Englith poet, with all the aid of the philosophical Bo-
lingbroke, fhrunk from the definition of satis in his bold
description of happinefs, while health and peace cost him
but a few scratches of his elegant pen!

—<" ~——=*s

1792.) sleanings of literature. Log
“Methinks he wes chicken hearted, and might have done
it with a dafh, by setting it down to the account of mode-
rate desires. |
“It is the fret that gets upon our minds, and the want

of sedatives to allay it, that plays-the devil with us all.

“ Let us cultivate engaging, and rational, and easily at-
tainable pursuits, asthe sedatives for this fret; and all will .
be well.

“Tf fortune, who governs all things, fhall call us into
eminentor busy stations, let us be daring and busy; but if
the compels.us to remein in the fhade, let us remember
that the laurel thrives in the fhade with peculiar procerity.:.

“ T was born to the pofsefsion-of a small estate, and ha-
ving mifsed. my. way in the world, by'some of the freaks .
of the fickle She that..stands upon the globe witha ban-
dage on her‘eyes, I have lately: ended a poetical -efsay on .
my own pursuits, in the following manner, after having
said that I desire not “ volitare vivus per ora-virum:

*¢ Thus-would I pafs my unambitious days,

«* Unknown to envy, undisturb’d with praise;
«¢-Guiltlefs, enjoy.the lot Heav’n freely gave,
Steal soft through life, and hide me in the grave.

‘ The great misery with respect to this said businefs of
contentment, is, that we imagine we can obtain it by the
power of ratiocination ; and by comparing our situations
with such as are more unfortunate than our own. Now
contentment, as I said. before, is only to be obtained by
going out of ourselves, to. dwell upon agreeable, interest-
ing, and permanent objects and pursuits, that prevent us
from falling back (as it were) and prefsing upon ourselves,
which must certainly terminate in quarreling with our-,
selves, or in the production of the Englith spleen, or.
French ennui, a disease from which, that You May be pre-
served, by my admirable nostrum, is the sincere and hearty ~
prayer of, my dear Sir, your affectionate humble servant.”

B.A

£10 acure for the gout, July 25.

A TURKISH CURE FOR THE GOUT.

On reading the following little story you will find ihe cure..,
A ricu Turk, a man of considerable note in his own coun-
try, having been taken by a Maltese galley, had the good
fortune to please the knight who commanded her. He
took this Turk into. his own service, and treated him ‘in
such a manner as the slave had no room to expect. That
knight was often subjected to very severe attacks of the
gout ;—his slave, whom he loved, and who was even fami-
liar with him, said often to him, ‘if you were in my coun-
try I.would cure you entirely ; Lut the remedy i is such
as cannot be made use of in this place.’

After some years, the knight being satisfied with his
slave, gave him his liberty without ransom; The Turk
on his return home, made. an armament to cruise against
the Christians. He had the good fortune to take a vefsel
bound for Malta. When the prisoners pafsed in review
before him, he recognised the knight, his old master and:
benefactor. He made a sign that this knight fhould be se-
parated from the others; gaye orders that he fhould not be
put in irons; and that they fhould treat him as his own.
person; but he would not see nor speak to him. :

The corsairs having arrived at the place of rendezvous,
the Turkith captain afked of his afsociates that. particular.
slave, in preference; and that being granted him, he caused.
them give him a horse, and conduct him to his house..
Scarcely was he arrived and lodged in a handsome apart-
ment, magnificently furnifhed according to the mawner of
the place, when he saw seven or eight men enter, who,
without saying a word, undrefsed him, stretched him on a
matrafs in the middle of the room, tied his feet to a great

1792. a cure for the gout. 11k
stick, and two of them gave him four or five hundred
strokes with a small rod on the soles of his feet,, which
made them swell to an amazing size. Another Turk after-
wards scarified them with much addres, and made all the
curdled blood run out, and poured upon them a remark+
ably odoriferous balm: After which they carried him to a
balcony, where there was a bed composed of good matraf-
ses, with rich coverings. The physician, with three or
four slaves, watched him continually, and served him with
infinite attention. They drefsed his feet twice a-day; they
gave him the best food. But, without entering into conyer-
sation with him, they only bade him have good cou-
rage, and afk whatevet he wanted,
’ The’knight did not know what to think of such odd
treatment ; he waited for the explanation of it with impa-
tience. When, at the end of six or or seven days, his wounds
were quite cured,'and he felt himself able to rise and
-walk, they gave him.a very rich Turkith drefs, and his
patron came to see him. He demanded first to know who
the was, and then afked if he knew him: The knight could
not recollect his old slave,—years had changed him ; along
‘beard fhaded part of his face, and the flourifhing condition
in which he saw him, rendered it impofsible to know him
again. ° '
What! ‘said the Turkith captain, is it pofsible that you
have forgot your slave Ibrahim? it is I whom you
treated with so much.generosity ;—know that a benefit is
never lost among mufsulmans. I had pity upon you when
_ you suffered the tortures of the gout, and I told you that
if you were in my country I would have you cured so as
never to be more troubled with it: I have been as good
| as my word ;-you are cured,—you have suffered, —but
you fhall suffer no longer ;—the gout fhalk never distrefs
‘you more. The knight thanked him for the good treat-
gent which he had received, after a modest complaint of

y12 : - to correspondents. Sune 25.
the bastinado ; - soon after, there was no more word of it,
He staid six months with his benefactor, who loaded. him
with favours and carefses ; and-when the knight withed to ~
. return to his country, he caused him to embark in a Chris-
tian vefsel with his people, and defrayed the expences of
‘his pafsage. ,
Such is the remedy :—It is at the. service of all who are
* troubled with the gout. The balm which they made use
_ of was the true balm of Mecca.or Judea, which is known
. every where im Europe.
SaSaSaQ-uCuCum CS eeeeewWwWWWWWDdvae.
ANECDOYVE.OF A NEW MADE JUSTICE.
‘A. new made justice-of the peace, in order to qualify him-
. self for discharging the duties of his office, pored over
. some old law books, in one. of which he found an act, inflic-
. ting a penalty on such persons as fhould ‘ frre.any beacon,
which he unfortunately read, ‘fry any bacon.’ His wor-
- fhip, afew days after this discovery, riding through a vil-
lage, caught a poor woman in the very act-of.frying some
rafhers forher dinner; zealous to fulfil his duty, he caused
her immediately to be apprehended and committed to pri-
son, and at the next quarter sefsions had her brought forth
and arraigned for that offence ; -when an explanation. took
_ place, greatly. at the expence of his worfhip’s erudition,
. and to the no smal] diversion of a crowded court.
———

TO. CORRESPONDENTS.

MATTHEW BRAMBLE’s taleis received. When this writer has
acquired a little more correctnefs in composition, and chastenefs of taste,
his lucubrations may probably be well-received by the public. In the
mean while it will-be necefsary to attend somewhat more than he hes
yet done to these particulars. It-is evident that nothing is, in general,
so pleasing as that easy genteel air which people who have good sensty
and good dispositions, usually acquire, when they have had a long conti-
nued intercourse in the polite circle. But few things can be more dis-
gusting than the forward hoydon pertnefs of one who, not having had the
same opportunity of improving, affects that ease of manner which he sees
- so much admired in others.

. Farther acknowledgements deferred for want of room,

85.

THEE Bre,

OR

LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER,

FOR

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 2.1792.

ESSAY ON COUGHS AND COLDS,
For the Bee.
‘Tuts distemper is called by foreigners the Englifh
plague. ° It consists with my knowledge, that foreign-
ers are some times prevented from visiting our island,
from a dread of catching what they call da consomp-
tion Angloise. 1 have known this dread operate u-
pon foreign gentlemen, otherwise sufficiently manly,
-and very desirous of paying us a visit.

The general belief on the continent is, that a cough
is a‘contagious distemper. There is a story at Rome
ofan Italian nobleman, and all his family, having died
of a consumption, which they were supposed to have
Caught by using an Englith gentleman’s post chaise,
sold after his dying of this.disease.

Tt is not long since a friend of mine, whom the
“physicians. of London advised. to sail for health, was
refused admittance into the city of Cadiz. Nay,
after leave had been obtained from the Office of Health,
there was but one innkeeper in that town (an Irifh-
_ man,) who would admit him into his hotel ; and that
only, after agreeing for the value of ali the furniture

VOL. xX. P +

114 on coughs and colds. . Aug. tr,
of the apartment, to which the invalid was admitted.
He died in a few days, when every bit of this furni-
ture and bedding was burnt in the court yard of the
hotel.

Before we condemn an opinion which appears to
us to proceed from prejudice and ignorance, it may
be worth while to examine how far there is any
foundation in reality for it. And this is the more
necefsary that, with us, this distemper is often found
to baffle the {kill of our best physicians. Perhaps,
like the gout and rheumatism, the cause of this dis-
temper has hitherto eluded all our researches.

The following hints are suggested, with much de-
ference and humility, for the consideration of the
public, by one, not a physician, nor at all versant in
the science of medicine.

1st. To define -the distemper I am treating of:
It begins by a slight affection of the glands of the
throat and nose, which in a day or two occasions a
coughing that increases in violence for some time ;
after which it either gradually abates, or ends in
what is called a consumption, occasioned by ulcers
or other tubercles in the lungs. I would observe,

ad. The futility of the causes commonly afsigned
for our catching cold. Avoid wetting your feet,
avoid sitting inadranght of air, and night dews,
avoid damp linen, are advices commonly given to
«hose in whose health we take an interest. Yet how
many catch colds which ean be imputed to none of
these causes! and how many preserve themselves
perfectly free from this distemper, although daily ex-

posed to them all”

1792. on coughs and colds. IXS
A Highlander’s first step in the morning is into a
brook, for the purpose of wetting his feet. His
house sometimes has no door to exclude adraught of
air, nor his window any glafs. He is indeed not much,
exposed to wet linen, but many tradesmen, by hard
labour, are ina continual perspiration, and have their
linen constantly wet.
3d. There are none who doubt of the influenza
being contagious. Its symptoms, however, differ
very little, except in their violence, from a common
cold. May it not be owing to its superior degree of
violence, that its contagion spreads wider than the
contagion of common colds? It is needlefs to enlarge
upon a subject so generally known, and so often felt,
by many of your readers, as the effects of the influenza.
I was told by the captain of a vefsel, a man of honour
and veracity, that his bark carried the influenza in
the year 4784, first into Shetland, and then to the
‘Orkneys. It had raged all that spring om the main .
Jand ; but, till he arrived, the distemper had not ap-
peared in those islands. But im twenty-four hours
after his landing, the whole inhabitants were seized:
withit; and the same thing continued to happen
invariably at every island where he touched.
4th. Common colds are sometimes little lefs conta-.
gious. Two writers of veracity Mr Martin and the
revd. Mr Maculloch, afsure us that the steward of
St Kilda, on his annual visit to collect the rents of
that island, generally, carries this. contagion with
him, and that the whole inhabitants are violently
affected by it in a few days after his. arrival.

116 on coughs and colds. Aug. 2.
His visit being only paid once in the year, it is.

probable the salubrious air of the island perfectly
eradicates the distemper, till it. be again imported
afrefh in the same manner.

sth. A surgeon of a man of war roe me that
he had often remarked, that, although colds were fre-
quent in his fhip before it put to sea, the people

soon got well, and never were taken ill again till

they put again into port. The same observation
was made to me by many other seafaring people.
A lieutenant of aman of war afsured me, that, on

returning from the Newfoundland station, where the.

people had been remarkably healthy, and free from
colds, they were all coughing in the first. week after
the fhip’s return to England. Neither do I learn
that the excefsive cold of Greenland exposes our
fifhers to that distemper..

6th. Those who quit the country to pafs the wins.

ter in our cities, particularly in London, are frequent-

ly seized with 2 cold immediately on their coming to.
town, although much lefs exposed to the severity of.

the winter than in the country.

4th. May it not be inferred from Hence that the:
air in our towns, in the winter season, is infected’
with this contagion, perhaps in proportion to the-

size of the towns, and the huddled manner in

which the inhabitants are crammed together in:

them?

8th. People ascribe their-colds very commonly to.
a cold blast they have got in coming from church,

playhouse, and other crowded afsemblies. May not
their colds be more probably owing to the foul ins.

sa I a at

D7Q2 on coughs and.colds. tig:
fected air they have breathed for so long a time in
these places ?

gth. Some have fancied colds to be owing to the
pores being suddenly fhut up. Yet we rarely catch
cold when we rise from our beds, although a transi-
tion from. a warmbed, to the half naked state we are
in while we drefs, must certainly fhut up all our
pores. A Rufsian cure for the cold is said to be
first stewing in a steam bath, and then rolling
among snow. Our pores serve as discharging vef-
sels or emunctuaries to the body. Perhaps anato-
mists may discover, if it has not been already dis-
covered, that our pores are proyided, like our veins
and arteries, with valves to prevent any retrograde
flux of humours back again into the human body.
If this fhould prove to be the case, it. would be as
absurd to suppose we could imbibe contagion by the
pores, as to suppose the water of a river could be
poisoned at its mouth, instead of its source. _

roth. It is known that the human body is provided
with absorbent vefsels, the purpose of which is to im=
bibe air and nourifhment into the animal system..
Along with air, may not these vefsels also imbibe
any contagious vapours with which the air chances.
to be loaded? And is not this opinion confirmed by
our being much more apt to catch cold, if we go
abroad fasting, than after making a. hearty break-
fast ? ;

11th. It is observed that. moist weather. is more
apt to give colds, than dry frosty weather, though
colder. Does not this amount to an absolute proof,
of the infectious nature of the disease > because moist

118 on coughs and colds. Aug.
air is better fitted for attracting and suspending con-
tagious vapours, than when dried either by excefsive
heat or cold. A hot summer causes the plague to
cease at Constantinople, as readily as a cold winter,
and indeed more so ; because furs and woollen clothes,
the great retainers of contagion, are more used in
winter than summer.

12th, Air being heavier, and more loaded with
vapours as it approaches nearer to the earth, may
be the reason why the influenza commonly seizes first
upon dogs and horses, and why it is considered as
amore wholesome to live in an upper story, than on
the ground floor of a house.

13th. The most succefsful prescription, and one
to which physicians are driven when colds are very
obstinate, is country air. May not its efficacy ia
curing the distemper proceed as much from its being
lefs impregnated with contagious vapours, as from
its being purer in other respects ?

14th. Certain habits of body expose some indivi-
duals of a family to catch cold more readily than
others living im the same house, and breathing the
same air. May not this rather prove that the distem-
per is not very contagious, than that it is not cone
tagious in any degree?

15th. It has been observed that damp bed. linen,
-in the country, is apt to occasion disorders in the
bowels ; but that in towns it is apter to producs
coughs: [hat, at sea, being wet occasions rheuma-
tisms sometimes, but never colds. Hence» the ob-
servation that being wet with salt water isnot so
dangerous as with frefh.

T4992. on coughs and colds. 119
16th. May not the great care of the police of Spain
have extirpated coughs from that kingdom, as the
plague has been from that and the other kingdoms of
Europe? Is it too late to try whether the sane care
would not produce the same eff-ct in our island?
17th. Those who have lived’ for these last forty
years, have seen the sting drawn out of many dis-
tempers, formerly considered as mortal. How many
fevers have been cured or -prevented by the Jesuits
bark, Dr James’s powders, and other antimonial pre-
parations! How many cholics have been cured by
-laudanum! And how many lives have been saved
by innoculating for the small pox! What good has
not Goulard’s extract of lead done in the cure of in-
veterate sores, and recent wounds, and strains, and
bruises! Why despair of eradicating colds also?
18th. If we examine the bills of mortality, or re-
collect the events within our own circle, we {hall find
there is no distemper more fatal to human life than
colds. With the young it is apt to degenerate into a
consumption. To the old and infirm, it is almost
certain death. For being attended with some degree
of fever, and occasioning great bodily concufsion, it
frequently proves too violent to be resisted by per-
sons infeebled either by age, or a weakly habit of
body, in so much that we consider it as an effort of
strength, and a piece of good fortune for such people
to turn the winter.
19th.Every climate hasits drawbacks. Many climates
are more genial than that of Great Britain; yet, upon.
the whole, few are more fit for the habitation of man-
kind, Exempted from extremes of every kind, from

“20 on coughs and colds. Aug.
scorching heats in summer, and keen frost in winter,
were it not for the very distemper in question, there is
no climate in which human life might be protracted to
a greater length, nor whose longevity would be attend-
ed with fewer drawbacks and inconveniencies. Hence
the importance of discovering the true cause, and con-
sequently the best method of curing, and even eradi-
cating, by degrees, this distemper from the catalogue
of Britifh diseases, as the plague and leprosy have
been.

20th. I would propose that the faculty fhould bend
their whole attention to observe whether this distem~
per be contagious or not: That a society and corres-
pondence be establifhed for the purpose: That the
result of the observations made over the whole island,
or perhaps over all Europe, be digested and publifh.
ed.

21st. Should those observations afford rational
grounds for believing the distemper to be contagious,”
I fhould then propose, that the Faculty erdered all
their patients to country quarters, as soon as unequi-
vocal symptoms of a cold appeared: That the great~
est attention fhould be paid to wafhing all the linen,
and airing, and even fumigating the woollen and cot-

‘ton clothes of the convalescents before returning to
town.

22d. Yor the poorer sort, by a small subscription,

‘they might be enabled to retire to cottager’s houses
in the country, who, we may presume, would not be
‘unwilling to receive, for payment, such guests ; and
-on such occasions proper measures might be devised

1792. on coughs and colds. 121
for purifying.their clothes and the furniture of the
chambers they inhabited.
23d. Pains might also be taken to introduce the
custom of airing and fumigating, during the course

of the summer, the clothes which were worn in win-

ter, and the same precaution might be used as to beds

-and furniture. *

24th. A clerygman, whom I know, Causes his

‘beadle to open the doors and the windows of his
‘church, every fine day, through the course of the

week, and seems to think there is lefs coughing in

his church than before ; though the fhort while he
has tried this experiment prevents his speaking with

great certainty on the subject. He is certain, how-
ever, that coughing has not increased since ANS began
this practice.

It would be safe therefore to recommend this ex-
periment to be tried in all our churches, playhouses,
coffeehouses ,and other places of public resort.

25th. The mortality occasioned by putrid fevers
‘in Batavia is well known. There is scarce a family
which has not lost some of its members or connec-

‘tions, in the sea-faring line, who have touched at

that port. The cause of this mortality was not dis-

‘covered till of late, that the doctrine of the conta-

giousnefs of such putrid distempers has been esta-
blifhed. There isin the great city of Batavia but
one public hotel for the reception of strangers. The
wight of keeping this hotel is farmed by the govern-
ment. The governor, and higher members of the

‘Dutch council, there, fhare in the profits of this

farm. Private houses are therefore forbidden, un-
VOL, xX. | Q +

122 Sg on leases. fag. ri
der severe penalties, to let lodgings to strangers, and
strangers who arrive at Batavia, are frequently put
into the beds and apartments from whence’ those
who have died of putrid fevers have ‘been removed,
only the day before. There is said to be the lefs
pains taken to clean these apartments, that conside-
rable perquisites arise to the landlord and his ser-
vants from the death of their guests. This is cer-
tain, that the people of higher ranks in Batavia, who
can afford villas, to which they resort every night,
after their-businefs in town is over, live as long, and
enjoy as good health, as in any spot on the globe.

If these rude hints fhould serve to excite our atten-
tion to the cause of colds; and lead either to a more ef-
ficacious method of cure, or to lefsen the frequency of
the distemper, the writer will have attained his ob-
ject, in requesting the favour of your inserting them
in your useful paper. Iam, Mr Bee, Yours,

PuLmonicus.

ON LEASES.

Sir, To. the Editor of the Bee.
Permit me, through the channel of your very useful]
paper, to exprefs my sentiments upon the subject of
lands let upon lease. I {hall inquire into the advan-
tages and disadvantages both of long and of fhort
leases, and make some observations intended for the
benefit both of proprietors and tenants.

Many proprietors, of every rank in this kingdom,
have let the whole or part of their lands upon long
leases ; some for thirty-eight years anda life, and some

1792. on leases. 123
for fifty-seven, with certain obligations and restricti-
ons ; for instance, besides the rent stipulated, the
obligation to build sufficient houses,—to inclose the
farms according toa mode prescribed and agreed to, —
and to plant a certain quantity of ground: all these
articles to be performed within. a. certain number of
years;—to lay out thefields and to raise erops in such
a manner, that, at the end of. the leases, the lands
may be in a state of high cultivation, and prepared for
letting at a very advanced rent. Lands let im: this.
manner, however unpromising in appearance, and of
however little value at first, in a few years become
like anew creation, and an ornament to the country ;.
and at last yield to the present proprietors, or their
heirs, a very handsome income.. The tenants, if men
of sense, have much scope, and many -motives, to:
make great improvements; they are happy in the en-
joyment of a sense of liberty, and of independence to
a certain degree; they not only procure present
subsistence for themselves and their families, but, by
laying up something for their children, have the con-
solation to foresee that they will not be left. desti«
tute. To the proprietor and his family, to whom
they lie under so many obligations, they consider’
themselves as related:in a remote degree: to them
they look’ up’ with reverence and esteem, and feel:
the most affectionate attachment; circumstances very”
agreeable both to themselves and'their superiors.
How pleasant a thing it is to see proprietors: regard-
ing their tenants,, and the families, of their tenants,,
as their children, and rejoicing in their happinefs ;;
and these families, on the other hand, happy in the

124 on leases. Angst.
homage they pay, and the gratitude they ca to their
benefactors !

Many adticioren again, thinking it an hardfhip:to.
be so long divested, as it were, by long leases, of their
property, and observing that many disagreeable cir-
cumstancés, in the course of thesé leases, occur,
which, at their commencement were not foreseen ::
for instance, that by the rapid and unexpectedimprove-.
ments in hufbandry, the tenant often enjoys an undue
advantage, in which the proprietor has no fhare 5 and;
that however worthy a man the original tenant may:
be, he is sometimes succeeded by a son or heir, of a.
very different character, a man disgusting to his su-
perior, and a pest among his neighbours; and yet,
because he pays his-rent, and keéps without the:
reach of the law, cannot be removed: determined.
by such circumstances as these, they have adopted an-
other mode of letting theirlands; that is, upon fhort
leases of nineteen years, some longer, and many:
fhorter. In the case of fhort leases, the proprietor:
must build houses and improve the lands, expecting:
to be reimbursed by a rise of rent in proportion; or
af the tenant build and improve, he must be allowed %
deduction of rent ;, acd this, requires.on both sides due:
eonsideration.

Long leases appear to be best calculated for unite
ing, more effectually, the different ranks. of society ;.
and for promoting, as I have mentioned above,, the:
general happinefs.. Short leases. and high rents natu-
rally-produce the opposite effects.. Here the contention:
is who fhall: have the greatest advantage ;, here, as:
there-is no generosity nor humanity on the one side,

579% on leases, 12g.
there is no room left for gratitude or affection on
the other. The proprietor and tenant are held to-
gether by a very slender tie, in which the heart
has seldom any fhare, and which we see daily bro-
ken by the slightest accident. It has been observed’
by men of acknowledged abilities, that, in letting a
lease, circumstances fhould be so calculated that the
tenant, after paying his rent, and defraying the ex-
pences of his family and servants, fhould have re-
maining, annually, perfectly free, the imterest at least
of the stock or principal laid out in furnifhing the
farm. The reasons are obvious, because had he beer
bred to any other businefs, he would, by attention
and care, have provided for the subsistence of his fa-
mily, and saved his capital and interest, as a fund
for their future supply: and how many arise toa
state of affluence, who had originally no fund at all 2
Another reason is, that if he is not placed in a si~
tuation such as I have described, he is degraded
below the condition ef a common servant ; for a ser-
vant not only lives at present comfortably, andi void of~
care, but has it in his power to lay up something for
the supply of his future wants. In a-word, when he
not only bestows his time and labour, but is, himself
obliged, in the course of his lease, to expend his own
money, or principal, for the proprietor’s advantage, he-
repents his bargain,—his spirits are hurt,—his tem-
per soured,—he considers. himself as a slave in a
land of freedom,—and looks upon his masteror supe-.
rior with inexprefsible aversion and abhorrence.

That a proprietor may be able to judge for him-
self, and let his farms in such a manner, or upon

126 on leases. Aug: t. |
such terms, as will give satisfaction to all concerned, —
he fhould attentively observe the annual. produce of |
the lands in his own immediate pofsefsion; or ifhe has
not had an opportunity of making proper observations. |
of this kind for a sufficient length of time, the books |
of his man of businefs, relating to this subject, regu-
larly kept for some years, will supply that defect : —
for by observing the medium prices of grain «for a _
a certain number of years past, and the annual pro- —
duce of a certain number of acres for the same space —
of time, by comparing the acres to be let, with those
under his own management, making allowance for
the difference of soil, if there is any, and by compa~
ring the probable future prices with the actual pre=_
sent ones, and deducting expence of management, he
will be able to judge, with confidence, of the value
of his farms, without depending on the judgement :
of any man.

There’are two things necefsary with regard to those”
who propose to enter into leases, or take farms, and
these are, that they be men of some substance, and
in point of moral character unexceptionable. When a
‘proprietor, then, after minute inquiry, is satisfied with
regard to a man’s temper, his sense, his manners,
and taste for religion, he fhould give him the prefe-
rence, though he may happen not to be so wealthy as”
his rivals; for his diligence, and sobriety, and wisdom,

will create wealth; but wealth can never make 2
fool a wise man, nor the society happy with which
he is connected. From inattention to this subject
may be traced all the troubles and vexation which.
proprietors meet with from their tenants, and many

3yg2 on leases. 129
of the evils which distrefs society, of which the in-
stances are toomany. Yours, te. Amicus.

dT

-| Additional observations on the same subject.
THE ingenious writer of the above efsay is among
the few who have considered leases in their proper
point of view, vzz. the effects they produce on the
industry, manners, and dispositions of the people.
A very intelligent writer in the Bee, vol. ii. p. 281,
has, with great propriety, considered the effects of |
the old mode of tenure of church lands in Scotland,
in this respect. It would be well for the community
in general, if political writers, in discufsing subjects
‘of this sort, would, by losing sight of individual cases,
extend their views to the community at large.
Nothing has perhaps tended to give Britain such a
decided superiority over neighbouring nations, as
the practice which has solong prevailed of having
her lands cultivated under the protection of leases.
~The Greeks and Romans, who were unacquainted with
this beautiful regulation in political economy, found
themselves involved in difficulties at every step in
their operations of agriculture, that rendered it to
them atroublesome and a slavifh businefs*. And
* Among the Greeks and Romans, the general practice was, that every
proprietor of land cultivated it by meang of his own servants and slaves,
very much in the same manner that the proprietors of West India estates
_ do at present. This gave rise to innumerable frauds, peculations, and a-
buses, that no laws were sufficient to guard against; and he was, in gene-
ral, the most succefsful farmer who could watch ‘his people best ; not him
who reared the best crops. To guard against these frauds, it was ne-

cefsary to arm the land owner with adespotic authority that is altogether —
inconsistent with freedom. A large landed estate became then a burden

228 on leases. Aug. 1,
our neighbours upon the continent, in general, from
the same circumstance, have had the progrefs of their
agriculture prodigiously retarded, in comparison of
what it might otherwise have been*. The Nether-
lands is a singular exception to this rule ; and their
progrefs in rural improvements has been proportion-
ally rapid.

The progrefs of Scotland in agriculture, when

compared with England, has been prodigiously re- —

tarded from the same cause. For many centuries
back the security of tenants in England was nearly
the same as at present. In Scotland it is only of late

that our courts ef law have begun to give that va-

lidity to gontracts of lease that they ought to have
had. And it is only since that period, that our te-
nants have begun to think, and to act, as free agents,
whose property, as well as that of the land owners,

upon a rich man’s fhoulders that he was unable himself to bear. He de-
volved his authority upon deputies and subdeputies, whose businefs it was
to opprefs those below them, and to cheat those above them}; which pre-
duced an endlefs train of evils that it would be unpleasant to recount. Ne
Spirited agriculture can, in these circumstances, ever prevail. The clafsi-
cal reader, who has turned his attention to the private life of the ancients,
will easily, from this source, be able to explain an infinite variety of par
ticulars that have occurred in the course of his reading, which, witiout
.adverting to these, will appear to be totally inexplicable.

* In most parts of Germany, Sweden, Denmark, Poland, and Rufsia,
‘the stock employed for cultivating the land, is the property of the land-
- lord, frequently ofthe crown; the tenint having only a temporary us2 of
it. It is easy to see, that, in order to secure the landlord’s property, in these
circumstances, it becomes necefsary to confer upon him an authority over
his tenants, that is totally incons's‘ent with freedom. This is felt ever
in the most civilized states in the above list; and where the greatest
stretches have been made to secure the lower orders of the people from
opprefsion. In many cases, those who cultivate the soil are little better
than slaves, at this hour.

X7QW - on Teases. | 129
is secured to them by law*. To every one acquaint.
ed with the decisions of our courts of justice, these
facts need no illustration. They will find, upon look-
ing into the statute books, and revising the establifh-
ed practice of inferior county courts, that improve-

* The earliest period of modern improvements in Scotland cannot be
carried farther back than the year 1746, The abolifhing heritable juris-
dictions, at that time, gave to the supreme courts of justice an authority
they had not till then pofsefsed3 but it was long after that period before
poor tenants, in distant parts of the country, felt that, by means of an ap-
‘peal from inferior county courts, whose decisions’ were in mary cases res
gulated*by former practice, called use and svont, they could obtain that
full security they ought to enjoy. Hence it was common. for landlords,
in many parts of the country, whatever were the terms of the lease,
‘to resume pofsefsion on the death of the person te whom the lease was
granted; and this was so common that the heirs did not even think of
lodging acclaim for it. This practice, is I believe, inmost parts of the
country, now exploded. But in distant parts of jthe country an innume-
rable train of opprefsive circumstances sti!l are inforced by a blind adhe~
rence to customs, unautliorised by law, respecting mills, and servitudes of
various sorts, wliich tend greatly to depreis the tenants; and which their
fhort sighted proprietors , in many cases, support with all their authotity ;
not aware, that while they are doing so, they are, in the most efiectual
manner they can, diminifhing theirownincome. The’ idea which so long
and.universally prevailed in Scotland,, of a proprietor having the entixe
and abselute authority over those on his estate, has still kept so much pof-
ssefsion of men’s minds, as to make landlords in general look with a jea-
lous eye upon long leases, and secure pofsefsion toa tenant. They are
not aware, that while men can obtain absolute security to enjoy the fruits
of their industry in other profefsions, they will requize it in agriculture;
otherwise they will employ their stock elsewhere. They see spirited
‘men, in countries where these notions prevail, abandoning: farming, ani
employing their stock in other undertakings. Still, however, a-predilec-
tion prevails in the distant parts of this country for farming, which de-
‘tains a few in that businefs. Should that predilection totally abate, a gene~
al poverty of tenantry must insue. I- is the interest of every land-
Jord to guard agiinst this great evil; which in aland of freedom can
only be done by giving such leases as insure a proper return to the tenant
‘for the outlay of sto¥k, and industry upon the subject,

VOL, xX. R t

130 on gla/s drops. Aug. T.
ments in agriculture, in every part of the country,
are more intimately connected with this circum-
stance than with any other whatever; unlefs it be
that of establifhing turnpike roads, which it must be

allowed affords a greater stimulus to industry than

any thing else.

Since then the general prosperity of the country,
andthe kindly connection between the higher and low-
er clafses of the community, so much depend upon a
proper security given to tenants, by means of leases,
as this ingenious correspondent justly observes,
I cannot help recommending this subject to the at-
tention of my readers, as one of the most primary
importance. Nor fhall I at present say more on this
head, in the hopes of obtaining some farther elucida-
tions of it upon great and liberal principles. Should
these elucidations prove unsatisfactory, | fhall per-
haps think it necefsary, at a future period, to suggest
some farther hints on this subject, with a view to lead
to the discovery of sound principles of practice in re-
gard to this very important object. JovA.

ON RUPERT’S GLASS DROPS,

Wauen glafs is taken in a fluid and fine state from a
glafshouse pot, and dropped into cold water, it forms
a drop with a long and slender tail, which bursts in
pieces on this tail being broken.

Chamber’s Encyclopedia says, “* the best way of
making them is to take up some of the metal out of

the pot upon the end of aniron rod, and immediate-
|

3792. on glafs drops. 135
ly let it drop into cold water, and there lie till it is:
cold. If the metal be too hot when it is dropped in=
to the water, the businefs does not succeed, but the
drop frosts and cracks all over, and falls to pieces in:
the water ; and every one that does not crack in the
water but lies in it whole until it is quite cold, is:
sur to be good. Thereis a great nicety in hitting,
a due degree of heat in the metal, and. the workmen:
who best know their businefs cannot promise,, before:
hand, which fhall succeed ; but often two fail for one
that is right. Some of them frost over the surface:
without falling to: pieces;. and others break into.
pieces before the red heat is quite over, and that
with a small noise; others break soon after the red
heat is over and make a:great noise ; and.some neither
break nor crack until they seem quite cold, and.
hold together while: they are in: the water, but fly
to pieces when they are taken out of it;. some do this.
on the instant, others:an hour or two-after ; and o-
thers will keep several days, nay weeks,.and at. last
fall to: pieces: without being touched.

‘« These drops, thus formed, are so hard, that they
will bear smart blows witha hammer without break-
ing ; and’ yet if you grind the surface, or break off
the tip of the tail, they will fhatter, with a loud re-
port,.imto powder; and, in-an-exhausted receiver, with.
greater impetuosity than in the open air, and into a
finer powder, exhibiting light when the experiment
is made in the dark., But if the drops. are ground:

with the powder of emery and oil, and annealed by
the fire, they willescape breaking, This surprising:
phenomenon is supposed to arise from hence, that:

132 on glafs drops. Aug. Vs
while the glafs is in fusion, or ina melted state, the
particles of it are in-a state of repulsion ; but being
dropped into cold water, it soon condenses the par-
ticles in the external part of their superficies, that
they are thereby reduced within the power of each
other’s attraction, and by that means they form a sort
of hard case, which keeps confined the before men«
tioned particles in their repulsive state; but when
this outer case is broken, by the breaking off of the
tail of the drop, the said confined particles have then
liberty to exert their force, which they, do by bursts
ing the body of the drop, and reducing it toa very
peculiar form of powder.”

The above is all the reason that has hitherto been,
offered to the public for these phenomena.

In the frst place, the metal is not, when taken out
of the pot, in a repulsive, but in an expanszve state ;,
and that, according to the degree of heat in which
it is when taken from the furnace.

ad. It is not pofsible that the external part of the:
drop, when let fall into cold water, fhould condensa
the external particles of their superficies, and, at the
same time, keep the inner particles confined in their:
vepulsive (fhould say expansive) state. When~the
glafs is first taken out of the pot, the metal is of an u-
niform degree of heat, and by dropping it into:
water must certainly make the whole: mafs contract
equally ; for if the external part fhould contract, and

-not the inner particles, it of course must crack at
the surface, from the outer fkin not being able to:
cover a larger surface than its own; hence the reason.

1792. on glafs drops. 133
ef their being very often frosted when in, and when
taken out of the water.

3d. Allowing that the external parts of the drops
were contracted, and the interior particles were in
a state of expansion, in that case the drops would not
make that explosion upon breaking off the tail, the
inner particles being already in an expansive state ;
but the outer case or {kin being in a contracted state,
would only burst into powder, and leave the inner
part entire.

From the experiments J made, I have found, upon
breaking these drops in the dark, there is not any ap-
pearance of light. I infer from these glafs drops re-~
sisting no inconsiderable stroke of a hammer, - that
they must be very hard and brittle ; which no doubt ~
is owing to their being dropped into cold water. The
water to supply the place of an equilibrium, attracts,
from the red hot drop, the latent heat, which it o-.
therwise would have contained, had it been regu-
larly annealed. Upon putting one of these “Ru-
pert’s drops, when cold, into 2 common house fire,
it will not crack or break, owing to the power of at-
traction which it bears for the ca/oric of the fire. On
the contrary,every one knows, thata piece of glafs whicly
had been properly annealed, would, upon being put into.
a fire, almost immediately erack. This always hap-.
pens provided the glafs be of any considerable thick-
nefs and size. But, in the former case, the glafs will
bear a sudden transition from cold to a red heat with-
out breaking. Thus a glafs drop, deprived of its la-
tent heat, flies in pieces upon having the small end

‘snapped off ; but a drop that has heen properly ani

134 anecdotes. Aug. té
regularly annealed, or saturated with latent heat,
will not fly or break, as the ayn? upon losing 2
part of its small tail.

Another phenomenon proves that these drops are
deprived of latent heat, or any gas or air that is im
their composition ; for every one of these drops con-
tain in the body of the glafs, small blebs or vacui-
ties: Now if those blebs or vacuities contained any
of the above matter, it must evidently expand upon
putting them into a fire, and consequently would cause
the drops to fly into pieces; but this not being the
case, fhows, these blebs are perfect vacuums that are
deprived of all aeriform matter.

How it comes about that these drops fhould break,
because they are deprived of latent heat, is not so
easy to judge. It is my opinion that upon breaking
or depriving them of a part of their long tail, a tre+
mulous motion is communicated to the rest of the
glafs, which being of so hard, consequently so brittle a
nature, it immediately flies, and breaks into the pecu-
liar powder, with some degree of noise ard violence.

I must here remark that all substances are exceed-
ingly brittle when deprived of latent heat, as may be
seen in the tempering of metals ;. and, in particular,
steel, which may be made to bend and twist all ways,

and upon being deprived of its latent heat will then.

be more brittle than glafs itself. CHAMICcUs..

ANECDOTE OF WILLIAM III.
Lorp MoLeswortTH, who had been ambafsador at
the court of Copenhagen, publithed, at the end of the

1702 ‘ anecdotes. 135
the last century, an esteemed work, entitled, ‘* Ac-
count of Denmark.” This writer spoke of the ar-
bitrary government of that kingdom, with that free-
dom whicli the liberty of England inspires. The king
ef Denmark then reigning was offeuded at some re=
flections of the author, and ordered his minister to
complain of them to William mr. king of England.
*¢ What would you have me to do?” said William :
‘ Sire,’ replied the Davifh minister, ‘ if you had
complained to the king, my master, of such an offence,
he would have sent you the head of the author.’
*¢ That is what I neither will, nor can do ;” replied
the king ; ‘‘ but, if you desire it, the author thall
put what you have told me into the second edition of
his work.”

ANECDOTE OF A SAILOR.

OnE of the men who had been round the world
with commodore Byron, soon after his return to Eng-
land, went to his native place, where he was consi-
dered as a very extraordinary personage, and was in-
vited to a club of his townsmen, who expected to be
greatly edified by his conversation. It was plain
that a man who had been round the world must know
more of it than any other body. But the circumna-
vigator could give them but very little information
with respect to what he had seen in his voyage ; ahd
seemed to have very little to say for himself, till
some of the club began to question him about the
world being round: then he opened with a tone of
authority, ‘* as to that, Ill tell you what it is; they
say the world is round; but I have been all round it,
and, by G—d, it is as fat as this table.”

~

236 yeading memorandums. Aug. 1s

Nearer eee nee EEE SaSaEE SSSR

DESCRIPTION OF THE PLATE.

Tue view represented in the plate which accompa-
nies this Number, is taken within an hundred yards
of that given in No. 71. of this work. It repre-
sents a part of the Water of Leith, winding in a deep
rocky dell, overhung with woods. On one side of the
-Yiver appears a neat temple to Hygeia, reared in the
chastest stile of Grecian architecture, by lord Gar-
denston, whose name can never be mentioned, in this
country, without a particular degree of respect.
This temple covers a spring of mineral waters, which
proves highly salutary to the inhabitants of Edin«
burgh, who now can enjoy the. pleasure of an easy
walk of half a mile from town, in a delightful rural
situation, conjoined with the benefits that are derived
from drinking this mild salubrious water. The
public spirited owner of this well proposes, for
the farther accommodation of the inhabitants, to erect
a long-room near the well, which, when finifhed, will
render this a delightful place for rural recreation. ~

The distant view represents the frith of Forth,
with the island of Inchkeith, and the hills of Fife be-
yond it.

DETACHED REMARK.
How pleasant for parents, during the vied of

their children,

‘© To rear the tender thought,
‘* And teach the young idea how to fhoot,

»
a
_—

iH

afarti

Se ae “WB TION OF sal ¥ The. ie,
aa whew “pre iB si agi tno

aed a sat of the Wied ee, nai
togiadeil, overt ing with wove bs
evar Es ing & het fetreple os | wich
chuatese “stile df Cpeavian seininvainly dard €
deaszom, phat mitite can inipete! be at thin
earekeye, veithtse 4. sileboeltur teppei
Tha reidie shu phabpge sso eae, ¥
Spovis Tapia ee eee peeing
Bye whe spe ty Ong ee:
RW of Ball's oo Be disen wai th +4
ae Be irwaton, jotédined etiheahect ii
sibrotn: descisiog. the plied Miu erin
Epabligeapieits owner ot ehis wellG
the Gatther atormodation of the it habit
ae ages: sp yn the’ well )

Swett re oh te po |

Eze
” A a Re:

os a ” vor ssiere
ike ei, ah

3 + =) yaetes «

My ba 53 Wavgaes 3: Ci ad Riso Hwee,
: af aol Blt he ses gets ry
‘ ‘ 2 by iF

; nae

t :

o

Enpraved for the Bee.

i
i}
i

|

i]

Ih

i] nuit
WH

AVirw of S* Burwarn’s WELL near EDINBURGH, : :

ee ————

POETRY.

WERSES FROM A NEW POEM, ENTITLED ‘ A MORNING WALK.”

¢

JUST PUBLISHED.

Season of soft delight! Now to the wild,
Nature’s admirer hies him, while his heart
Throbs with emotion, exquisitely soft,

And only known to those, whose bosoms feel
The charm of genuine beauty. Happy few!
For you the valley smiles; the lonely wild
Yields you serene enjoyment; and to you
‘The hoary mountain, rugged and abrupt,
Administers sublime delight. How blefs’d
Your early wandezing, urobserv’d, and rapt

_In contemplation! How serenely sweet

Your evening walk! as if, with influence mild,
Angels unseen attended, and convey’d

Joy to your spirits ; not tumultuous joy,

But calm, and leading to th’ ingenuous mood
Of melting tendernefs. Although to you

May not be giv’n those high creative pow’rs
‘That animate the canvas, or entrance

The soul in th’ extacies of rapt’rous song,
‘Deem not your portion scanty; nor complain
That nature hath to you, with niggard hand, .
Her gifts iniparted. If fhe hath bestow’d
Pow’rs to distinguifh beauty, but deny’d

Th’ inventive energies; perchance, with these,
She kindly hath withheld the recklefs zeal

Of pafsion; and secur’d you from the cares,
Th’ unnumber’d, agonizing cares, that swarm
‘Ev’n in the bow’r of fancy. Ye enjoy

‘The smile of this soft season, unallay’d

With restlefs withes for ye know not what
Sublime, untasted pleasure; unallay’d

With grief fantastic, or imagin’4 woe.

Fram’d for discerning ev’ry pleasing form

Of graceful eleg.nce, your souls are calm;
Calm as yon river, that so slowly moves, ae
His progrets pafses unobserv’d, the while

His breast reflects the likenefs of each fhrub
And blofsom, waving o’er th’ enamell’d bank.

At the request of a respectable correspondent we, willingly, have in-
~serted the verses above, from this pleasing little poem, which, on many
accounts, deserves applause. ‘Unaffected simplicity is, perhaps, the great~
est beauty in poetry, and the most difficult to attain, This poem con-\
tains much of that. Perhaps a little more practice in writing would give
the author a greater facility in smoothing his numbers ;—a beauty which,
though not the most efsential in poetry, is an accefsary so necefsary, that

VOL. X.

s ‘ +

3138 poetry. Aug. 1.
it never fhould be disregarded. | The following ver-e, among others, re~
guires to. be corrected :
——____- —__________—_ 0 entrance
~ » «The soul in th’ extacies of rapt’rous song. 4r

See also lines 62, 69, 71, 82, 92, Gc.

_ Thereis great beauty in the following pafsage:

Oft let me range the devious wild, where rocks

Rise in fantastic grandeur, bare, or cloth'd

With ivy; while aloft the mountain afb

Waves from the tow’ring cliff; and far below

Th’ unruffled lake reilects the mountain afb,

The tow’ring cliff, and ev’n the goat that dares

Along the precipice’s fhaggy verge

Crop-the scant herbage.

Is not the repetition of the mountain afh rather an overstrained affecta-

tion of simplicity ? Would it not be fully as natural, and more picturesque,
to say the f tufted tree?”

The following pafsage,’ but for the two harfh lines we have marked, is
: highly beautiful :
Chief let me seek the metamorphos 'd scene,
Where Arcon hath o’er nature’s form, (ere while
A form uncouth, unseemly, unarray’d,)
With easy grace, thrown the loose flowing robe
Of rural beauty. Soft may southern fhow’rs
Descend! and gently may Favonian gales
Shake their moist pinions! May the vernal beam
And kindly dews, with. genial influence feed
‘The rising plants, till ev’ry swelling hill
Waves with a verdant grove! ’Mid thee gay fields,
With him whese genuine taste reforms the rude
Bleak desart, and makes frowning nature smile,
Let me enjoy the social walk 5 with him

Fafhion the winding path, the mantling grove,
The lawn wood-skirted, the meandering brook,
The lake with willow’d margin, th’ sbelifk,
Or fane, inscrib’d with th’ honour’d names of such
As have by valiant deed, or counsel sage,
Or layrel earn’d by science or the muse,
Enhanec’d the glory.of their native land.
* Might not these lines be altered somehow thus ?

The lake with willow’d margin, the proud fane,
Or obelifk, inscrib’d with names of such, &c.

There are several instances of wrong punctuation occur in this poem,
_4which marr the sense:
While th’ azure gleam, from yon¢er.distant grove
Of nodding hyacinths, seems like th’ expanse
Of a thin yapour, frefh exhal’d.
The idea is here new and beautiful, were it not marred by the ambigu-
ity which is occasioned by our thinking of the incongruity of a nodding

:

E7QZ+ ; poetfye.. 339
grove of hyacinths. The author evidently means to siy, While from
yonder distant grove, the azure gleam of nodding hyacinths, seems like
th’ expanse of a thin vapour.’ This ambiguity would be removed by
placing a comma after the word grove. . :

The following words require to be reconsidered: Influence, 1. 199—

wictol, 1. 183—liken, not in its true:sense, 1. 206—deign impart 1. 243
a. Ne . . >

—testifies, 1. 247—down'd, 1.295, coining words isa bad employment for
a poet,—memory, 1. 299.

The author is much too free in elisions, which gives a harfhnefs to mi-
ny of his‘lines that are unpleasing. By a little pains, this small blemith
may be avoided in a future edition.

THE PEACOCK AND THE DOVE, A FABLE. -
For the Bee.

“A caupy peacock swell’d with pride,
Invites, to dine, a turtle dove 5
But.could not’s ostentation hide,
Before the little bird of love.

The gilded fowl with eye afkance,
Struts round the tender hearted mate,

Afd now and then the scornful glance,
Inferr’d the diff’rence of their state.

With shining crest, erected high,
Jn haughty stile the dove addrest 5
** See how my-varying train does fly; -
*¢ See with what robes my person’s drest,

«« The gay parterre thou seest around,

« The verdant mead, the flow’ry vale;
«€ °Tis mine all that extensive bound,

“* And here I screen me from the gale.”

Shock’d with his pride, and screeching voice,
Though-all things round were-rich and gay 5
The turtle could not praise his choice,
Bur stvetch'd her wings and flew away.

Stunn’d with the little lover’s flight,
He call’d her back, but all in vain; .
Nor could his wealth, nor colours bright,
Bring back the turtle dove agin.

She wing’d her flight up to her nest,
Wheie enters neither pride nor strife;

Lul!'d on her hulbind’s chearing breast,
In sweet contentment pafses life.

: Morat,
Take note, Oh pride !—Thy haughty frown
Ea.h g n’rous soul drives from thy hali 5
The so-ial blifs to thee unknown,
Loe: oft to humbler merit fall, M.

140 on Stuarts elements. Aug. t.

Sm," To the Editor of the Bee.

Waren I reflect on the progrefs of my life and sentiment,
Iam apt to divide the whole into eras denominated, as.
well as suggested, by the recollection of those by whom
my mind has been succefsively imprefsed; and the space of
time appears longer or fhorter between the different peri
ods, according to the vivacity and muitiplicity of impref-
sions that have accompanied my studies and observations.
‘These evolutions and revolutions of intellect, have for-
med, as it were, a series of time-pieces, whereby I am in-
duced to form an estimate of the endurance of my intel-
lectual existence.

Buchanan, and Gregory, and Watson, at St Andrews,
Firfkine, and Matthew Stuart, and Cullen, at Edinburgh,
Reid and Campbell, at Aberdeen, Smith and Black, at
Glaszow with other excellent’ persons, to whom I have
been indebted for the improvement of my understanding,
have marked in my mind the progrefs of my contempla-
tive life, and have conspired from the multitude of excite-
ments, and of investigations arising from those excite-
ments, to exaggerate the conception I have of the time
that has intervened since the faculties of my understanding
began to be unfolded for the reception of the philosophical
truth. \ Before the printing prefs, that palladium of the
human race, was employed to difiuse knowledge univer-
sally among all degrees of people, the progrefs of philoso-
phy, or the reason of things, was so slow and equable, that
the life of no individual could include any remarkable range
of intellectual melioraticn in society; so that 1 wonder the
lefS at the continual complaints of our ancestors concer-—
ning the brevity of human life, as the seuse of interval ig
continually erased by the paucity cf vivacious imprefsicns.

F992) on Stuart’s elements. "-¥gR
For my own part, when I remember that I have lived
from the Barbara celarent of the year 1754, to the ele-
ments of the philosophy of the human mindin the year
1792, I alraost think myself the wandering’ Jew, and feel
myself the subject of historian ages.

It-is for this reason, Sir, that I desire to recommend to
the public the masterly volume of Dr Dugald Styart,
in which, by a patient and discerning selection of the ele-
ments of the philosophy of the human mind, he has begun
to erect a platform, upon which there may be hereafter
‘erected a fabric, that may aspire, like Babel, to the celestial
regions, but without prophanity and folly, or any of the
consequences that have arisen from the philosophical theo-
ties of the moderns. I perceive in this book, as in the ex-
‘cellent efsay on political economy by Adam Smith, clear
ideas, distinctly displayed by an enlarged end luminous un-
‘derstanding, fully pofscfsed of the subject of which the au-
‘thor treats; and I see it happily within the reach of every
contemplative and cultivated reader, so that I can, without
‘any impropriety, recommend it to the perusal of your rea-
ders in general. Some of/Dr Stuart’s chapters will no
doubt be too deep for men of businefs, in the ordinary
profefsions of life; but these may be pafsed over in the per-
usal, or convey enough of sentiment to excite a desire in
them, either to go over the ground necefsary to unfold
his arguments, or to be at pains to give these advantages
‘to their children, or to those young people who are com-
‘mitted to their charge. They will see here, likewise, the
unspeakable advantage-arising from an instruction in the
‘principles of mathematical learning, and be induced to be-

“stow it ia the same manner. ‘They will also be convinced
that none but the enemies of the human race, and of the
happinefs arising from a peaceable and good administration
of public affairs, will ever object to the gencral diffusion
of moral and political, as well as other useful knowledge,

\
142 on Stuart's elements: » Auge.
among. the lower ranks of society; or ever beled to ima-
‘gine that ignorance can be the parent of peace or of happe
nefs, And as I have said so much upon the influence of th

prefs on the melioration of mankind, I cannot do better

than support this well grounded opinion, by giving’ a spe-
eimen of Dr Stuart’s book, in his reflections on this for-
tunate invention. ;

“ Of the progrefs which may yet be made inthe different :
branches of moral and political philosophy, we may form ~
some idea, from what has already happened. in_ physics
since the time that lord Bacon united, in one useful di-
réction; the labours of those who cultivate that science.
At the peried when he wrote, physics was certainly in a=
more hopelefs state than that of moral and political philoso-
phy inthe present age. A-perpetual-succefsion of chime-
rical theories had, till then, amused the world; and the pre-
vailing opinion was, that the case would ‘continue. to be
the same for ever. Why then fhould we despair of the
competency of the human faculties to establith a solid and.
permanent system, upon other subjects, which are of still
more serious importance ? Physics, it is true, is free from -
many difficulties which obstruct our progrefs in moral and .
political inquiries ; but pechaps this advantage may be more
than counterbalanced by the tendency they have to engage
aemore universal and a more earnest attention, in conse-
quence of their coming home more immediately to our
“ businefs and our bosoms!” When these sciences, too, begin
to be prosecuted on aregular and systematical plan, their im-
provement will go on with an accelerated velocity; not only
as the number oispeculative minds will be every day increa-_
sed by the diffusion of knowledge, but as an acquaintance
with the just rules of inquiry will more and more place
important discoveries within the reach of ordinary under-
standings. .‘‘ Such rules (says lord Bacon,) do in some
sort, equal mens wits; aud have no great adyantage or
pre-eminence to the perfect and excellent motions of the

“3792. on Stuart's elements. 143.
spirit. “To draw:a straight line, to, describe .a.circle, by
aim of hand only, there must be a great difference between
‘an unsteady and unpractised hand, and a steady and prac-
‘tised one 3 but to doit by .rule-and compals is much-alike.”
“ Nor must -we omit-to mention the value which the
art of printing. communicates to-the-mest limited exer-
tions of literary industry, by treasuring up as materials for
the future examination.of more enlightened inquirers. In
this respect the prefs bestows: upon.the sciences an ad-
vantage somewhat analogous to that which:the mechani-
cal arts derive fromthe division of labour. As-in these
_arts the exertions of an uninformed multitude are united
by the comprehensive skill of the artist, in the accomplith-
ament of-efiects, astonifhing by. their magnitude, and by
the complicated ingenuity they display ; so, inthe scien-
ces, the observations and conjectures of obscure indivi-
duals, on those subjects which are level to their capacities,
and which, fall-under their own immediate notice, accu-
-mulate, for a course of years,till at last some philasopher
arises, who combines these scattered materials, and exhibits
in his system, not merely the force: of a single mind, but
the intellectual power of the age in which he’lives.
“ Tt is upon ‘these last considerations, much more than
on the efforts of original genius, that.I -would rest my
hopes of the progrefs of the human race. What genius
alone could accomplifh in science, the world has already
seen: And lamready tosubscribe tothe opinion of those who
think that the splendour ofits past exertions is not likely to
be obscured by the-fame of future philosophers. But the
‘experiment yet remains to be tried,-what lights may be
thrown on the most important of all subjects, by the free
‘discufsions of inquisitive nations, unfettered by prejudice,
and stimulated in their inquiries by every motive that can
awaken whatever is ¢ither generous or selfth in-human

a44 .on Stuart's elements. Aug. t.
nature. How trifling are the effects which the bedily
strength of an individual is able to produce, (however
great may be his natural endowments,) when compared
avith those which have been accomplifhed by the conspi-
ring force of an ordinary multitude! It was not the single
_arm of a Theseus, or a Hercules, but the hands of men such
_as ourselves, that, in ancient Egypt, raisedthose monuments
of architecture which remain from age to age to attest
the wonders of combined and of persevering industry ; and
while they humble the importance ofthe individual, to ex-
alt the dignity, and to animate the labours of the species.
“ These views, with respect to the probable improve-
ment ofthe world, are so conducive to the comfort of
these who entertain them, that, even although they were
founded in delusion, a wise-man would be disposed to
cherith them. What fhould have induced some respectable
writers to controvert them with so great an asperity of
-exprefsion, it is not easy to conjecture; for whatever may

be thought of their truth, their practical tendency is sure-_

ly favourable to human happinefs ; nor can that temper of
mind, which disposes a man to give them a welcome re-
ception, be candidly suspected of designs hostile.to the in-
terests of humanity. One.thing is certain, that the great-
est of all.obstacles to the improvement of the world, is
that prevailing belief of-its improbability, which damps
the exertions of so many individuals ; and that, in proporti-
on as the contrary opinion becomes general, it realises the
event which it leads us to anticipate. Surely. if any
thing can have a tendency to call forth in the public ser-
vice the exertions of individuals, it must be an-idea of the
magnitude, of that work in which they are conspiring, and
a belief of the permanence of those benefits whicl they
-confer on mankind by every attempt to inform and en-
lighten them, As in ancient Rome, therefore; it was re-

— en

eh

meee

L792 on Stuart's elements. T45
garded as the mark’ of a good citizen, never to despair of
the fortunes of the republic ;—so the good citizen of the
world, whatever may be the political aspect of his own
times, will never despair of the fortunes of the human
race; but will act upon the, conviction, that prejudice,
slavery, and corruption, must gradually give way to truth,
liberty, and virtue ; and that, in the moral world, as well

_as in the material, the farther our observations extend, and.

the longer they are continued, the more we fhall perceive
of order and of benevolent design in the universe.

‘« Nor is this. change in the condition of man, in conse-
quence of the progrefs of reason, by any means contrary”

to the general analogy of his natural history. In the: in--

fancy of the individual, his existence is preserved by in- —
stincts, which disappear afterwards, when they are no
longer necefsary. In the savage state of our species; there
are instincts. which seem to form a part of the human con-
stitution, and of which no traces remain in those periods

of society in which their use is. superseded by a more en-

Jarged experience, Why then fhould we deny the pro-,
hability, of something similar to this in the history of maz,

-considered in, his political capacity? Ihave already had

occasion to observe, that. the governments which the-
world has. hitherto seen, have seldom or never taken their
rise from deep laid schemes of human policy. In every.
state of society which has yet existed, the multitude has,

in general, acted from the immediate impulse of pafsion, or
from the prefsure of their wants and necefsities ; and there-

fore what we commonly call the political order, is, at
least .in ‘a great measure, the result of the pafsions and
wants of man, combined with the circumstances of his.

“situation ; or, in other words, it is chiefly the result of the

wisdom of nature. So beautifully, indeed, do these pafsions

and cizcumstances act in subserviency to her designs; and so
VOk. X. 2,

146 < avdictionary. Aug. Ts
invariably-have ‘they ke2n found, in the history of past
apes, to conduct men, in time; to certain beneficial arrange-
ments, that we can hardly bring-ourselves to believe, that
the end was not foreseen by those who were'engaged in |
the pursuit. . Even in those rude periods of society, when,
like the ‘lower animals, he follows blindly his -instinctive
principles.of action,’ he «is led by an invisible hand, and
contributes his fhare to the execution-of a plan, of the na-
ture arid advantages of which he has no conception. The
operations of the Bee, when it begins for the : first time
to form its cell, conveys to us a striking image of the éf-
forts of unenlightened: man, in conducting: the operations
* la an infant government. -I.am, Sir,” d'c, Arsanicus.

. EXERCISES IN PRACTICAL GRAMMAR.
Continued from vol.wiii.np. 184.
Dictionary.

Gaear, adj. “A relative wotd, denoting largenefs of quan-
tity, number, dc, serving to augment the value of those
terms with which it is combined. | Opposed to sma// or
“ittle, The principal circumstances: in which this word can
be employed are the following :

1.°When merely inanimate objects areconsidered with
regard “to quantity, great is -with propriety employed
to dencte that that’ quantity -is considerable ; as a great
mountain, a great house, &c. and it is here contrasted with
small, When great is‘ thus employed we have:no other

- word that is exactly synonymous.

2. When inanimate objects are considered with regard
to their extent, this term is sometimes employed, although
with lefs propriety ; as a great field, a great plain, &c.
In this sense it is nearly synonymous with large ; and they
are often used indiscriminately, but with some difference of
meaning ; for as /argeis a term chiefly employed'to denote

1792» @ dictionary. 147
superficies, and as great more particularly regards the quanti-
ty of matter, therefore, when /arge is applied to any object,
which is not merely superficial, it denotes thatyit is the exe-
tent of surface that is there meant to be considered, without
regard to the other dimensions ;,whereas when the term great
is employed, it has a reference to the whole contents. If
therefore we say-. a /arge house, or a/arge river, we exprels
that the river.or the house have a surface of. great. extent,
without haying any necefsary connection with the size in
other respects: but if we say a great house, or a. great
river, it at once denotes that they have not only a large
surface; but are also of great. size,in every respect.

3.Gaeat, when. applied to’ the human species, never -
denotes the size.orlargenefs ofthe body, but is applied
solely to-the qualities of the mind.- Thus when we say
that Socrates was a great. man, we do not-mean that he
was a man of great size, but that. he was a man who ex-
celled inthe endowments of the mind. -

The terms which denote. largenefs of size in the human
body, are big, bulky, huge, &c.. ;

4. Great is sometimes applied to the human species .
as denoting high rank.. In this case, it. is oftener used in
the plural number than. otherwise; thus we say the
great, meaning the whole. body of men in high station,
as opposed. to mean. It fhould seldom be. employed in
this sense, asit tends to confound ‘dignity of rank«with .
elevation of-mind..

5. As this isa general term of augmentation, it may be
joined with all nouns. which denote guantuty, quality, num-
ber, excellence, or defects ; or such as simply praise, blame, .
anger, contempt, or any other affection of the mind.

6. Itis employed to denote every step of ascending or.
descending consanguinity, as. great grandfather, great
grandson, &c.

148 @ dictionary. Mug. 3.

Heart, In anatomy, the member of the body from
which the blood is propelled towards the extremities by
-means of the arteries, and towards which it is again ‘brought
back by the veins.

In a figurative sense it is deemed the seat of the af-
fections, as the head is accounted the seat of the under-
‘standing. Hence a man of a sound heart, and weak head,
is the same as a man of good dispositions and weak under-
standing. In this sense the word occurs frequently in all
languages.

Hien, adj. Exalted ina perpendicular direction at a dis-
tance from the surface of the’ earth ; opposed to /ow.

1. Hicnis a term altogether indefinite, and is employed
to ‘expres the degree of elevation of any imanimate body.
Thus'we say @ bigh mountain, a high house, steeple, tower,
pillar, &c. Nor is there any ‘other word that can be here
éonsidéred as exactly synonymous; /ofiy being only -em-
ployed todenote avery eminent degree of elevation. :

‘9, To exprefs the perpendicular elevation of vegetables,
either high or ta/l may be employed, as being in this case
nearly synonymous. We may therefore say @ high or
‘tall tree, a high or tall mast, @c. but with this difference
between these two exprefsions, that ta//can be more pro-
perly applied to those that-are much elevated, and of small
dimensions ; aud igh to such’ as are ‘more bulky and of
‘greater Size, amt '

3. The perpendicular height of man can never be’ ex-
prefsed by the word high; tall being here the proper exe
prefsion. And although hgh is sometimes used tovex-
‘prefs ‘the height of other animals, yet it seems to be an
improper exprefsion. See Tart.

4. Hicu, when applied to the human species, always Te.
fers to the mind; and denctes haughirne/s, statelinefs, pride,
&c. and when combined with the exprefsions of any -ener-

1792." - a dictionary. 149
gy of the mind, it denotes that in a more eminent degree.
In this sense it is opposed to meanne/s, abjectnefs, and hy-.
mility.

5. As this is an indefinite term, tending to denote any
thing that is elevated above us, it may be combined with
almost every noun which admits of this elevation. And
as objects high above us are always out of our reach, in
a figurative sense, it is used to denote any thing that seems
to be above the ordinary condition of mankind; or these
gualities cr endowments of the mind which are not easily
acquired: as dignity or elevation of sentiment, dignity of
rank, acutenefs of reasoning on dificult subjects, pride,
haughtinefs, ct any other quality which seems to be beyond
the ordinary level of mankind ; dearne/s of price; &c.

6. In the same manner we apply this term to time,
which having a metaphorical resemblance to a river flow-
ing ‘on with an unceasing current, through all succelsive
ages, any thing of remote antiquity is denoted by the term
high.

4. Likewise those degrees of latitude fat removed
from the line, where the pole becomes more elevated.

8. Andto some particular crimes as being attended by
peculiar deprees of guilt, as high treason.

Taut, adj. Something elevated to a considerable ieee
in a perpendicular direction ; opposed to /ow.

1. This term is chiefly used to exprefs the height
of man and other animals; and is employed todenote the
height of the body only, without having any reference to
the mind. ‘When applied to man, no other word can be
substituted in its stead: when applied to other animals,
high is sometimes considered as nearly synonymous. See

Vics,

150 a dictionary. ug. 1.

2. Itis likewise employed to denote the perpendicular
height of vegetables ; and in this case it is nearly synony-
mous with high, See Hien.

3. Itcan inno case be employed to exprefs the height

of merely inanimate objects. We can never say a fall

steeple, tower, or pillar, but a high steeple, tower, &c. For:

the dis:inctions in these cases, see Hien.

Lone, adj. A-rejative.term, denoting. the distance be--

tween the extremes of any body, which is extended more

in one of its geometrical dimensions than another: op--

pesed to /hort,
This term.may be applied to. all inanimate objects
whose dimensions. in one way. exceed the other, and

when not: in.an erect posture, whatever be the other.

circumstances attending them; whether it reJates to
superfieies alone, or to solid bodies, whether these be

bounded or open, straight. or. crooked, flexible or rigid, .

or im any. other circumstances whatever; thus we say
a long or fhort lane, a long or fhort ridge, street, ditch, rope,
chain, staff, &c. But it is to be observed, that although
. ong is, in the strict sense, only opposed to /hort, yet,
as it exprefses the extension of matter in one of
its geometrical proportions, it is often contrasted by
those words which exprefs the other dimensions, when
we mean only to describe the several proportions; as @
table long and broad. And as these several dimensions are
exprefsed by different words, according to their various
forms, modifications, and circumstances, in which the bodies
are found, therefore it is im this sense contrasted by a
great diversity of terms, as @ ong and bread or wide, nar-
row or siratt street or lane; a long and thick, or small rope,
chain, staf. For the distinctions in these cases, see Baoan,

Wine, &e.

2. Objects necefsarily fixed in an erect position, cam —
never have this terra applied to them; and therefore we

1992. - “a dictionary. Fort
cannot say~a'/ong; but « high steeple or tower. And’for the
same reason,:while. trees. are growing, and’ fixed.in an
erect position, we scannot apply this term to them; but
- when they are felled and laid upow the ground, it-.is quite
_ proper and necefsary. Thus we do not say a /ong, but a sald
_ or keghitree, while.it is growing ;-but we say a/ong,not a tall
. lag of ‘wood ; and in the same manner we say-@ tal/ mast,
when it.is fixed.in the thip; «but a-/ong mast,while it lies
upon the beach. sSee ‘Fatu and.Hicu.
<3. Those vegetables which are-of a tender =pliant na-
* ture, or so weak as not to be able-to retain a:fixed posi-
tion, being considered as of a: middle nature between e-
-rect..and- prostrate’ bodies, admit -of. either. of the terms,
. feng, tall, -or high : +as:a long or tall ruth; or willow wand;
or along tallyor-high state of corn. See Hicneand Tau.
4. The parts of..wegetables-when considered as: distinct
from the whole, even when. growing and erect, afsume the
term long; for wedo not«say a tal/, but a long /boot
of a tree; and a.tree witha long:stem, eee toa
_ tree ibs igh stem.
5. For the same reason,.a staff.and,pele,-even when fix-
_ed in a perpendicular direction, afsume the word /ong in
preference to sa// or high.

6. With regard to-animals, ‘the general rule is applied
without exception; éa//, and not /ong, being employed.to
denote the height of the human body, when in an erect
posture; /ong, and not-a//, to denote-its length, when in
an incumbent situation. ong, appliedto all-other ani-
mals which.do.not walk erect, always denotes their great-
est length, in an horizontal position, from head to tail.

4. In a figurative sense.it denotes, with regard to time,
any thing at a great distance from us.

8. As also any thing that takes up much time before it
is finifhed5- asa /ong discourse, or. protracted note in mu-
asic, &c.

nga to correspondents. dug. I
Broap-adj. The distance between the two nearest sides
-of any body whose geometrical dimensions are larger in
one direction than another. It has-a reference to super-
ficies only, and never -to the solid contents: opposed to
Marrow.

1. Broan, in.the-strictest acceptation, is applied to de-
note those bodies only whose sides are altogether apen and
unconfined ; as a Groad table,.a broad wheel, &c. And in
these cases it is invariably contrasted by the word narrow,
nor is there any: other word which. can be .considered as
exactly synonymous with it.

2. When any object is in some sort bounded on the
.sides, although. not quite closed.up, as.a road, street, ditch,

dc. either broad or wide may be employed, but with some.

difference of signification.; .bread being -most properly
used for those which are more open, and wide for those
which are mere confined ; nor can this term be ever applied
-to such, objects as.are close bounded all around, as a house,
a church, &'c. wide being here employed. For the more

-accurate distinctions, in these casés, see the article Wins. .
‘

To be concluded in our next.

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

“Tue verses by. Gulliver are received. Though that species of composition’
is not favoured by the Editor, these lines, on account of their execution, .

hall be admitted.
The paper of Agrestes is come tohand. Perhaps all the nine positions

he afsumes might be granted without much affecting the argument; they |

might however be disputed;—this would opsn too wide a door for argu-
ment.on a subject that would be little interesting to any persons but the

combatants themselves. Qn this account it is improper.for ouf miscella-_

ny- It might, when finifhed, form a separate publication. If the paper be
wanted for this purpose it fhall be delivered when called for.
The communication from G. R. H. is received; though the case can-

«not be as the writer considers, the fact stated isso singular and curious, that

«he paper fhall be inserted the first convenient opportunity.
Farther acknowledgements deferred for qwant of roam.

_—"

—

86.

THE BEE,

OB
LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER,

Wevnespay, AvcysT 8, 1792.

THE ARMADILLO.
Tats animal derives its name from the covering that
‘nature has bestowed upon it, which is a close compact
coat of armour, so exceedingly well fitted for defence,
‘and so much resembling the armour of our forefa-
‘thers, that, had the animal been 2 native of Europe,
we might naturally have conjectured that man had
taken his first hint of a ¢oat of mail from this ani-
mal. The structure of the fhell of the armadillo is,
‘however, far more elegant and commodious than any
of the inventions of man. and the animal, though
completely armed, moves with nearly as much free-
‘dom, and has as much command of all the joints of its
body, as if it were covered with a soft flexible kin.
VOL. xX. U +

154 _ the armadillo. Aug. 8.
All this clafs of animals, of which there are many
varieties, are natives of south America. They are
all covered with a strong erust or fhell, nearly as
impenetrable as that of the tortoise ; and are distin-
guifhed from each other by the number of flexible
bands of which it is composed. ‘They differ from each
other in various other particulars ; but, in general, there
‘are two large pieces that cover the fhoulders and the
rump, between which lie the bands. These bands
are not unlike those in the tail of a lobster ; and,
being flexible, give way to the motions of the ani-
mal. The bands and other parts of the fhell are or-
namented with a vast variety of figures, which ren-
der this covering no lefs beautiful than convenient.

It is a harmlefs inoffensive animal; feeds on roots,
fruits, and other vegetables ; grows very fat; and is
greatly esteemed for the delicacy of its flefh.

No attempt has yet been made to domesticate this
animal; though, if it were capable of being tamed,
it would probably add considerably to the luxuries
of the table, and the emolument of the farmer. The
Indians hunt it with small dogs trained for that pur-
pose. It burrows under ground like the rabbit. When
surprised it runs to its hole; or if it cannot get to
it, attempts to make a new one, which it does with
great expedition, having strong claws on its fore
feet, with which it adheres so firmly to the ground,
that, if it fhould be caught by the tail whilst making
its way into the earth, its resistance is so great, that
it will sometimes leave it in the hands of the pur-
suers. To avoid this, the hunter has recourse to ar-
tifice ; and, by tickling it with a stick, it gives up

TYQ2 » on the constitution. 155
its hold, and suffers itself to be taken alive. Ifno
other means of escape be left, it rolls itself up with-
in its covering, by drawing in its head and legs, and
bringing its tail round them, as a band to connect
them more forcibly together; in this situation it
sometimes escapes, by rolling itself over the edge of
a precipice, and generally falls to the bottom unhurt.

The most succefsful method of catching armadil-
loes is by snares laid for them by the sides of rivers,
or other places where they frequent. They all bur-
row very deep in the ground, and seldom stir abroad,
except during the night, whilst they are in search of
food.

The figure prefixed represents the szx banded ar-
madillo, called Tatov. It is about the size of a
young pig ; between the folds of the bands are a few
scattered hairs ; its belly and thighs are covered with
long hairs; its tail is long, thick at the base, and ta-
pers toa point. It is found in Brazil and Guiana. ~

; TIMOLEON’s SECOND LETTER.

Zo the people of Great Britain.
AGREEABLE to my promise I now proceed to offer
some observations on the question, ‘ In what hands
may power, in the administration of government, be
most safely intrusted; and under what modifications
ought it to be put, so as to guard the most effectually
against the abuses of it?”

This question, I conceive, gan only be properly an-
swered by having recourse to experience ; for as to.
speculative reasoning, in matters of this sort, no re-
liance can safely be had upon it. |

156 .. on the constitution... Aug. 8. 8

In looking back to the history of past times, we-
find that the earliest form of government that can be:
traced is the regal: and the royal authority in the.
Asiatic dominions, in general, seems to have been:
subject to few restraints. As far as their history:
can be traced, the decrees of the prince constituted
the law of the land. Despotism appears to have been
congenial to these climates.. And it has there taken.
such firm root as still to prevail in that fine country..
Human nature, of course, appears in Asia only ina
degraded state. The faculties of the mind seem not:
to have been there ever fully developed. Their vi-.
cious system: of government reprefses every noble
exertion ; and we there look in vain for that energe-
tic ardour- which conscious. independence. can.alone,
inspire.

From. Asia, we have good reason to believe that:
Europe was originally peopled. And. the colonies;
which migrated from. thence naturally introduced.
the same form of government they had experienced.
at home. In this. way we find that the earliest states,
in Europe, that occur in history, -were subjected to.
regal authority : but by degrees-the people becoming:
sensible. of the abuses to which power gave rise
among them, endeavoured to: vindicate their rights,,
by not only destroying the. tyrants, but also by sub-
jecting those who were intrusted with sovereign.
sway, to various restraints,, with a view to prevent:
those evils. which unlimited power in the sovereign
had engendered.. To circumstances. of this sort we:
axe to attribute the origin of what.has been called the:

”

1792. on the constitution. 167
Sree states of Greéce, and the eager ty ‘of thé
Roman republic.

The devices which these people adopted for cur-
bing thé power of the first magistrate were various 3
and the effects of these changes in the administration
of government soon became apparent. Man, in these.
free states, became a more active, a more bustling, é@
more turbulent animal than formerly. These ef-
fects cannot be denied. It is, however, somewhat
difficult to answer a quéstion that modern philoso-
pliers have started, w/z. whether the happinefs of the
human race, was, upon the whole, augmented, or di-
fminifléd by the chatiges? On the one hand, there:
"seems to be no doubt but the Faculties of the human
mind were thus enlarged. But whether, as in para-
dise, the knowledge of good, did not also introduce
with it the knowledge of evil, in a yet higher degree,
is dificult to say. All that we are authorised to.
pronounce with certainty, from a review of these an-.
eient ftée states, is, that the changes they adopted in.
their form of government were by no means calcu-
Tated to produce the effect intended; for though
powet Was thus taken from one set of persons, and
given to another, it was still liable to be abused ; and
‘thesé abuses became in a fhort time so gréat, as to.
énd in the total overthtow of the respective consti-
tutions of government, and enslavement of the
people in all of them. The existence of all these

free states was fhort: the whole course of their poli~
tical life was “a troubled stream:” private pro-
petty was never among them effectually secured :
Banufactures and industry were-scarcely there known:

158 on the constitution. Aug. 8.
war was their trade, and rapine was deemed he-
roism. The real ends of government were not of
course answered by the political institutions they
adopted. It is not, therefore, among the ancients
that we are to look for lefsons in the art of govern.
ment. Mankind were then evidently unacquainted
with the circumstances which constitute the efsence
of political freedom. And, were we not accustomed
from our infancy to admire the institutions of the
states of Greece and Rome, without understanding
them, we fhould perhaps execrate them as the basest
political establifhments that ever existed on the globe.
What we have been accustomed to adore under the
name of struggles for freedom, if they had been deno-~
minated, as they really were, contentions for power,
would have excited our disgust instead of admiration.
So little was the prosperity of the country, by which
I mean the general happinefs and tranquillity of the
people, attended to, or understood, that there is not,
among all their squabbles, which are recorded with so.
much pomp and parade by their historians, one single
institution, either proposed or adopted, that had a
clear and direct tendency to that end. It is a con-
tinuec bustle for that, which, if it had been obtained;
could have profited them nothing. It is not therefore
from the models of antiquity that ‘‘ the friends of the
people” with to borrow their ideas of improving the
constitution of Britain, but from other lefs objection-
able sources,

The great object which seems to have been aimed. at
by the constitution-makers of antiquity, was to limit.
the time during which the supreme authority of the

£792. on the constitution. 159
first magistrate could be held by eny one man; and
provided this was effectually done they seemed to
think that all was well. They were not aware that
while they thus reprefsed the insolence of one man,
they conferred that power on thousands of others,
who would be much lefs scrupulous in exercising,
and with more difficulty checked in abusing it.
While they fhut the door against one abuse, they
opened up a source of corruption that was insatiable,
Virtue, in those who there aimed at power, was, of
all qualities, that which was the most unsuccefsful.
Frugality and public economy were in him the worst
of crimes ; and he who could squander the public
money with the most lavifh profusion in feasts, en-
tertainments, and fhows, was the person who was
deemed the most capable of conducting public affairs.
In this way the body of the people became corrupt-
ed,—their leaders abandoned in principle,—and their
political existence of course came quickly to an end.

It was reserved for modern times, warned by the
unfortunate fate of these ill judging siates, to devise
a political system by which the power of the first
magistrate fhould be so respectable as to be able to
curb disorders in the state, though at the same time
so limited as to be unable to opprefs the weakest in-
dividual. It is that system which the ‘friends of
the people” with to defend ; and it is to guard against
corruptions that threaten to sap the foundations of
it which has induced them to afsociate together at
present, and to step forward, as the true vindicators
of freedom in our happy constitution. Where we
adhere to these principles, who will deny that we

160 on the constitutions Aug. 8.
ought to be supported? Whenever we depart from
them, fhould we, through ignorance or inadvertency
do so, we with to be instantly abandoned by all the
world. He who sets us right in such acase will be
deemed our best friend. We contend not for vic-
tory: the welfare of our country, and the happi-
nefs of her people, are the objects we have in view,
and the sole end of all our struggles. :
It is worthy of remark, that experience in modern
times fhould haye proved, that the peaceful security
to the subject was best to be obtained by a procedure
directly the reverse of what the ancients seemed to
think constituted the very efsence of freedom; and
that the same experience fhould have proved that it
was even best to be obtained by a procedure that
‘reason, unaided by experience, would in all cases
pronounce to be preposterous and absurd. After
long experiencing the multiplied evils that proceed-
ed from the frequent elections of the first magistrate,
they came, at last, universally, in every country in
Europe, to.confer upon him that authority for life.
Contrary to what might have been expected by rea-
‘soning a priorz on this subject, it was soon found that
this alteration tended very much to augment the
public security, when accompanied with some other
salutary regulations that experience enabled them
also gradually to discover. Nor did they stop here:
the same experience enabled them to discover that
the benefits that were derived from rendering the
chief magistracy hereditary in one family, rather than
elective, were also great and unequivocal. Thenceithas
happened that as the benefits resulting from personal

£7 92s on. the constitution. 161
security, and that of property became better known
in Europe, the election of kings was gradually set
‘aside, and the rule of hereditary succefsion was es-
tablifhed in its stead. These are facts that cannot be

-‘controverted, and tend most clearly to prove, that, in
matters of government, experience discovers that
what appears to be inviting to contemplate, often
proves to be very prejudicial, and that which in spe-
culation would seem to be demonstratively absurd, is
‘yet-in the highest degree salutary when reduced to
practice.

The society of ‘‘ the friends of the people,’’ aware
-of the arts that have been employed to depreciate them
‘in the eyes of sensible men, know well, that those
who have this object in view have endeavonred to
represent them as.ememies to regal power of every
sort; though nothing can be more caluimnious and un-
just. On this head I beg leave to quote a pafsage
from the justly celebrated historian of the decline
-and fall of the Roman empire, which coincides entire-
dy with my own opinion, as well as with that of a
‘great majority of our society.

*¢ Of the various forms of government which have
prevailed im the world, says Mr Gibbon, an heredi-

_ tary monarchy seems to present the fairest scope for
ridicule. Is it pofsible to relate, without an indig-
mant smile, that, on the father’s decease, the pro-
erty of a nation, like that of a drove of oxen,
‘descends to his infant son, as yet unknown to the
world and himself; and that the bravest. warriors,_
and the wisest statesmen, relinquifhing their natural
wight of empire, approach the royal craddle with bea-

VOL. x, x .

162 on the constitution. Aug. 8. °
ded knees, and protestations of inviolable fidelity ?
Satire and declamation may paint these obvious to-
pics in the most dazzling colours; but our more
serious thoughts will respect an useful invention,
that establifhes a rule of succefsion, independent of
the pafsions of mankind; and we fhall chearfully
acquiesce in any expedient which deprives the multi-
‘tude of the dangerous, and, indeed, the ideal power,
of giving themselves a master. In the cool fhade
of retirement, we may easily devise imaginary
modes of government, in which the sceptre fhall be
constantly bestowed on the most worthy, by the free
and incorrupt sufferage of the whole community.
Experience overturns these airy fabrics, and teaches
us, that, in a large society, the election of a monarch
can never devolve on the wisest, or most’ numerous
part of the ptople. The army is the only order of
men sufficiently united to concur in the same senti-
ments, and powerful enough to impose them on the
rest of their fellow citizens ; but the temper of sol-
diers, habituated at once to violence and slavery, ten-
ders them very unfit guardians of a legal, or even a
civil constitution. The superior prerogative of
birth, when it has obtained the sanction of time
and popular opinion, is the plainest, and least invi-
dious of all distinctions among mankind. ‘The ac-
knowledged right extinguifhes the hopes of faction,
and the conscious security disarms the cruelty of the
monarch. To the firm establifhment of this idea,
we owe the peaceful succefsion and mild administra-
tion of European monarchies *.”
* Gibbon, vol. i. p, 204,

\

1492. on the constitution. 163
Perfectly convinced. of these important truths,
the society of ‘* the friends of the people,” are so far
from adopting the wild ideas which some have attri-
buted to them, of wifhing to destroy hereditary mo-
narchy, that they will employ their most strenuous
efforts to protect this wise institution, against the
machinations of (hort sighted innovators, whose feeble
understandings, only fkimming the surface, are struck
with the apparent absurdities that catch every one who
cannot look deeper to mark the real state of things.
Such childith ideas we fhould be afhamed to adopt.

Even the French legislators, whose efforts at for-
ming a. constitution we by no means hold up. to
the world as a model of perfection, have recognised
the justnefs of this principle. And though, by emas-
culating the powe of their hereditary representative
of the people, as they are pleased absurdly enough
to stile the king, they have conferred upon the army
a power that it never ought to pofsefs in a well con-
stituted state, dear bought experience. will probably
soon teach them their error ; and we hope will enable
them to correct that, together with several other ra-
dical errors, into which the natural vivacity of that
pee ple has inadvertently precipitated them.

But while we thus despise the stupid rage for in-
discriminate innovation, which some turbulent spi-
tits wifh to encourage, we thall strenuously strive,
by every constitutional means in our power, to bring
about such alteratioss,‘as reason and experience fhall
clearly prove to be salutary and expedient ; for of all
absurd things that can be conceived, surcly’ the most
absurd is that winch supposes that dny ‘uman ine

164, on the cotton manufactures. Aug. 8x
stitution can ever be so. perfect as never to stand in.
need of any amendment.

London, i TIMOLEON.
June 29. 1792. r |

.

ON THE COTTON MANUFACTURES,

For the Bees

Ir is within all our memories that there was not #
single piece of entire cotton cloth woven in Great
Britain. The manufacture of Manchester consisted:
originally of linen warp and worsted woof; such as.
checks, plufhes, and linsey winsey goods; after
wards the woof of cotton was introduced: The art:
of spinning cotton with jennies, enlarged this kind of
manufacture. But the cotton so spun was.of too de--
‘Hicate a texture to serve as warp, At last: the spins.
ning by water engines was: invented. by Mr Ark-.
wright. The advantages of these engines are innu-.
merable, in so much that the cotton manufacture-
may date the zra of its commencement from this in-.
vention. By means thereof cotton was spun many.
times cheaper than it had been, and the.cotton yarm,
was so even and hard twisted, as.to be peculiarly fits.
ted for the warp of that fabrics. The progrefs of the-
manufacture was thenceforth: most amazingly rapid..
In a few years after the discovery, Mr Arkwright

owned, or was. partly interested in eleven different:
engines. Some of those consisted of 4000 spindles.

which are worked night and day, or at least twenty=

three of the twenty-four hours; one hour being al=

lotted for examining and oiling the machinery.. There

ry92- - on the cotton manufactures: 265.
is as regular a relief of hands, watch and watch
about, as ina fhip. The thread yarn is in univer~ >
sal demand. Mr Arkwright’s sales, alone, are not
lefs than from L. 12,000 to L.15,000 per month.
His gains in. some years are said to have exceeded.
L. 40,000 sterling, as may be well imagined, so long
as he could retain a monopoly of this valuable discove-
ty.. The trade was still farther extended by invasions
made on Mr Arkwright’s patent. Some bought the
privilege of him at L.7 per spindle ; others disputed.
the discovery with him, and foiled him at law. The
patent not extending to Scotland, several engines.
were soon erected there. Nottinghamfhire, Der-
byfhire, Chefhire, and Yorkfhire have many of
them; they are erecting every where. A new en-.
gine is also: discovered which goes by the hand, and
unites the properties of the jennies and the spinning
water engines ; and is-therefore called a mude. It is:
capable of'spinning yarn ten fhillings in the pound,
weight finer than the water engines, and equally fit
for warp. Eheard of one pound of yarn so spun,. '
being sold for L.2: 12:6. Neither this nor the en-
gines have lefsened the number of spinning jennies ;
but, on the contrary, greatly increased their number..
The one spins only warp, the other woof; so. that
they mutually aid each other. .

' When it was first discovered that cotton cloth
eould be woven, lord Howe, at the desire of his Not-
tingham friends, obtained a remifsion of the double
duties paid on printing clotlis entirely cotton, if
manufactured im Britain ; and a few years ago a
bounty was given. on Britifh cottons when printed

166 on the cotton manufactures. » Aug. 8.
and exported. By means of those various inven=
tions and encouragements, the progrefs of the cotton
manufacture has been rapid beyond belief. It is
new become a general wear both for men and wo-.
men. It is substituted in the room of East India
cotton ; of German, IJrifh, and Scotch linen ; and also
in place of much of the thin woollen and worsted
goods of England. It is fougd a more agreeable and
a cheaper wear, than any of the above mentioned.
Hitherto little of it has been*used for fhirts, fheeting,
or tabling, But those who have tried it in all. those
ways give it the preference, especially in the two first.
It is found to last longer, and to be warmer and
cheaper ; so that there is hardiy a doubt of its:sup-
planting, in a fhort time, all the different manufac
tures above mentioned. This opinion coincides with,
Mr Arkwright’s delivered four or five years ago. It
not only consumes the cotton of our own West>In-
dia islands, but large quantities are imported from
France, Holland, and Spain; which last, and that of
Demerary, and Surinam, is the finest cotton brought
to Europe.

I know but two means by which the linen, manu-
facturers can escape being ruined by the rapid. pro-
grefs of the cotton maautacture. One is the inven-
tion of a means of spinning linen yarn by machines 5
Mr Arkwright is said to have discovered the art of
doing so. But he is too old and too rich to prose+
cute an uncertain and laborious discovery. The —
other is for the linen manufacturers to betake them-
selves to the manufacturing of cotton. From the fa-
cility with which the Manchester people have learnt

1792. en cotton manufactures. 167
this branch of businefs within these last seven years,
we may p*esume ‘he tra)sition is not difficult, far
lefs impofsible. And if this supposition be well
' founded, it would be easy ro fhew that Scotland pof-
sefses other advantages, which would exable it to
cope with, if not to rival, and even outdo Eng-
land in cetton, as much as it has done in gauze and
lawns. Every where in Scotland the aceefs to Lon-
don, by sea, is easy and expeditious. In England
much of the cotton is sent, and the goods returned,
hund:eds-of miles, by land carriage. Fuel is equal
dy cheap, labour much cheaper, also materials for
building are every where at hand, and the people are
equally industrious, much soberer, and more easily
maintained. Neither need we fear that the cream
of the businefs is over, or the market in danger of
being over stocked. Hitherto the demand has sur-
\pafsed the means of supplying it. And will not this be
the case for many many years to come, if cotton can
be introduced in the place of linen? What avast car-
reer is open for this manufacture! estimating the
German linen imported into Great Britain at twenty
five millions, the Irifh at fifteen millions, and the
Scotch at as much, not to mention the number of
woollen fabrics which cotton is likely to supplan: !
The immense wages earved by the cotton manufac-
turers is a strong confirmation of this opinion.
Children of eight yearsold earn 2s. aweek, no weaver
lefs than that sum per day, many of them 30 and 35s.
a week, a woman by spinning can get a fhilling a
d:y. The towns where it is carried on are increa-
ging amazingly in population, The country no lefs

168 ‘on cotton manufactures. Aug. &.
‘so. There is hardly a field in Lancafhire in which
“you do not see built or building, a cluster of four,
‘five, or six manufacturers houses; land round their
‘towns lets at L. 4 or L. 5 per acre ; anda general ap-
pearance of wealth and plenty diffuses itself where
ever the cotton businefs is carried on. Favoured as
‘the India cotton is, the parliament will mot hesitate to
impose duties, and even prohibitions, on such articles
as we are able to furnifh for ourselves. Not only.
the Britifh market is open to us, but all Europe calls
for our Manchester and cotton goods. Some states
admit them freely, others, under higher duties ; and.
‘the rest in a contraband way contrive to obtain
them. The consumption in France, by the way of
Holland, 1s immense. Considering how much we
‘have got the start of other nations, considering our
liberty, our industry, our capital, it is hard to say
when they will be able to vie with us. It is belie-
ved there would be full employment for them all, if
every parifh in Scotland contained a spinning ma+
chine, five times as big as its parifh kirk. The five
already erected in Scotland go on with a degree of
succefs which cannot fail to produce more.

Prudence requires us to forbear entering upon one
of the most important considerations relative to this
subject. I mean the proper way to proceed in order
to introduce this branch most speedily into Scotland.
There are certainly difficulties in the way, which
would be increased by discoursing about them. The
more quietly this is undertaken the better chance it
has to succeed. Little fhould be said till we are ful-
dy pofsefsed of every machine, whether for weaving

2792. ‘on the cotton manufactures. 169
or spinning that is known and used any where else.
I must observe, however, that the present seems to
‘be the fittest time for the undertaking. While the
profits are higher than on any other branch of busi-
nefs, there is wherewithal to compensate the expence
of so new an undertaking, and to allow for the blun-
ders and swkwardnefs of our artificers, weavers, and
spinners. By and by this will not be the case. It
is hardly to be doubted the profits will be gradually
Jefsened by competition. Mr Arkwright has lower-
ed his yarn 20 per cent. within this month. It will
vat last be reduced to the general average of the pro-
fits of trade in a free country, which, if necefsary, it
would be easy to prove to be equal in every branch
‘of trade, where novelty and monopoly are excluded,
The adoption of the cotton trade is not, therefore,
‘proposed as a means which wilk Jong produce supe-
‘rior and extraordinary profits to those concerned in
‘it; but as a resource for the inhabitants of a coun-
‘try who are likely to be deprived of their present
‘means of earning their livelihood; and as a businefs
which will not only secure to the present linen ma-
nufacturers certain bread, even when the linen ma-
nufaeture fhall be extinguifhed, but promises fair to
be of 2 more durable and extensive nature than ever
the linen manufacture has hitherto been. It is also
certain of more and ‘better encouragement from par-
liament, which, on account of the woollen trade, has
treated foreign linens with more gentlenefs than any
‘other manufacture that stood in comptition with our
own; besides, the Irith cannot import it as they dotheir
dinen into Great Britain. It would be a matter of
VOL, X. ¥ _ +

178 on the cotton manufactures. Aug. &-
curious speculation to consider whether the cotton
or linen manufacture merits best to be encouraged.
To consider the subject in a public and national view,
would lead to very extensive discufsions, and some~
what foreign to the present subject, which proceeds
on a supposition that, whether the cotton manufac-
ture be most eligible for our country or not, it will
infallibly establifh itself. Suffice it to say, our West
India islands will be greatly benefitted by it; our
fhipping and navigation to the West Indies must in-
crease by the transportation of so bulky a commodi-
ty, and the proportionable exports to the West In-
dies ; the heavy balance against us with the Baltic
for flax will be lefsened ; and, fhould the growth of
flax at home be thereby discouraged, it is a matter
of some doubt if flax be a production altogether con-
genial to our soil and climate ; and also whether the
land of Scotland can be better employed than in bear-
ing food for its people. The high price. of meal for
many years gives room to believe it would not. The
law of the present sefsion, lowering the duties on
our home distillery, to an alarming degree, promises
to be favourable to the farmer at least,.if not to the -
health, and morals, and industry of the peopleatlarge.
G. D.

N. B. Some of the spinning mills are worked by
water, raised by means of a fire engine. There is
one at Manchester, the fire engine of which costs up-
wards of L.1200 a year, and raises about gooo gal-
lons of water in a minute,—about 216,000 hogtheads,
or 79,000 tons per day.

“r4Q2. } ' on mathematics. 171
‘Cotton stockings have supplanted linen thread
stockings completely, and begin to be worn by many
‘people who wore only silk before. This alone is a
vast branch for which the twisted yarn of the ma~
chines is remarkably fit: some of it for stockings is
‘made as fine as ninety hanks to the pound weight.

The African trade is supplied with a great deal
of coarse Britifh cotton goods made to: imitate the
Indian.

Yarn of various kinds are spun with the water
machines: a pound of some thread: requires’ eighty
days to be spun with one spindle, and a pound of the
coarser kinds only three days. But the most profit is
gotten from spinning the middling kinds.

It is to be observed, that cotton cloth can-be bleach-
ed at a fourth of the expence and time required for
bleaching linen of the:same finenefs.

N.B. The above written in the year 1784.

ON MATHEMATICS.
Sir, To the Editor of the Bee.

I ENJOY much pa in. perusing your papers, and!
would long before this. have attempted. to contribute
my.aid in promoting the succefs of your laudable un-.
dertaking, but besides being much employed, I was
very diffident of any thing I withed to communicate :
this prevented me from testifying: my. approbation,
or uniting my feeble efforts to vary the entertain--
ment and add utility to the performance.

The design of rendering the Bee useful to the:
clergy, for the reasons afsigned, makes it a channel of.

12 on mathematics. Aug. 8.
information to them and others, and may convey to.
many, in quest of literature, subjects suited to please
ortoinform. My reason for writing to you is chief.
ly because the clergy are the only set of men that
are to be supposed acquainted with those who pur-~
sue learning jn any profefsion, particularly those
who have the same studies in view: and such being
the case, they are always considered by the Tiroes:in
science, as the directors of their studies, and their
patrons in the pursuit of it; they are, consulted in
every difficulty,—they are advised of every plan,—it-
is then in their power to administer an advice that:
may prove beneficial. There is one particular branch.
of their study IT mean to recommend,—a branch which:
is least of all attended to, and which I think princi-
pally demands attention, that is.the science ef mathe-
matics, and all the collateral branches. It is. certain
that to such a piece of learning they must partly at-
tend as a neeefsary preparation for their admifsion to.
sacred studies; but it 1s too certain that such a science:
is termed dry and insipid, treated with carelefsnefs,
and reckoned uselefs. To those who have entered.
fully into the study, this conduct appears foolifh in.
the highest degree. Natural philosophy, without
previous acquaintance with mathematics, is partly
lost to those who attend it, and will seem as insipid.
as the principles calculated to illustrate it. Eminent
teachers are often blamed by ignorant hearers as ab-
struse ; and the utility of the wise is depreciated by
unfkilful critics, which sometimes has been the case
with the science last mentioned; but when all ac-
knowledge the value of philosophy, why trifle with

1792+. on mathematics. yz
those branches of literature on which the knowledge
of most of its doctrines are founded? It is an error
however that too many commit; and by thus indul-
ging an aversion at a particular study, are in danger
_ of rivetting the principle on their own minds, and of
transmitting it to those who may in future be under
their inspection ; thus it becomes pernicious to them-
selves and posterity. But I am apt to believe, were
the clergy carefully to examine and attend to the
studies of those under them, and chicfly to inculcate
strict perseverance and attention in the pursuit of
mathematical learning, especially as that, of all the
rest, is least regarded, we would see rising genius ar--
Tive at greater perfection, and with joy would pre-
sage illustrious succefsors ; and would see the chairs
-of literature filled with those. who. bid:fair to bring
science to: maturity. Such an exertion, on the part of
‘the clergy, will not, I hope, be reckoned: burdensome >
the prospect of good arising from the tafk, will the
more excite a benevolent mind to devote time, and
study, to that work, which not only promises personal.
advantage, but general benefit. Much is in the mi-
nister’s power,--he cannot only recommend thescience
to their attention, but may’ promote their progrefs,.
and can timeously have opportunity of discovering
how far they are instructed in the science, and may,.
therefore, with precision, be able to decide, whether
their knowledge in it is a sufficient preparation for
entering on those parts of literature that are thereby
illustrated, and contribute his afsistance accordingly.
If, through your influence, the clergy would be still
more useful in exerting themselves in favour of those

:

174 anecdote. ° ug. &.
who will in future occupy their place, and have the
field of science under their review, the good effects
might very soon appear. If this attempt can, by your
attention, be prepared for a place in the Bee, it will
highly favour your constant reader,
PHYSICOPHILOLOGUs.

ANECDOTE OF JAMES I.

James, the first of England, and sixth of Scotland, who
was no way deficient in sense, or knowledge, or wit,
seems to have been remarkably deficient in the no lefs
important talent of steadinefs or vigour of mind. It
is said he knew well enough his own defect ; and that
he was once told of it in a very curious manner from.
the pulpit. He heard ofa famous. preacher,who, accord-
ing to the fafhion of the times, was very witty in his
sermons, and peculiarly happy in his choice of texts.
James got this person to preach before him; who,
with all suitable gravity, gave out his text in the
following words : James, first and sixth, in the lat-
ter part of the verse. ‘* He that wavereth is. like 2
wave of the sea, driven by the winds and tofsed.”
‘* He is at me already,” said the king. The text is
genuine, and the application of it witty, even inde-
peadently of the pun, which seems so well suited to
the taste of the times, and especially of James. and:
his court. y

a
. is "a

oe eis et

ON FLATTERY.
For the Bee.

Since faults in the best heart are blended,
That f am tardy to admire,
Kind Sir, you cannot be offended,
To flatter makes our patience tire. |

*Tis long since I have gone to school,
To learn the virtues of high station;
Nor fhall I be the wrétched tool
Of any rascal’s celebration,

The closer one surveys his friend,
The lefs he finds himself his debtor;
All panegyrists in the end
Perceive,—the fhorter tale the better,

That man who truly merits praise,
When such a man is in existenctz,
Seeks not to make the vulgar gaze,
But keeps all white wath at a distance;

TUMBLEDOWN,
SS 3.0>°>—_>SsSsSS— 5
MARTIAL, LIB. V. EPIG. X. IMITATED.
f For the Bee,

You simply wonder how it comes to pats,
That merit when alive js oft neglected ;

T tell you this dull world’s a jealous afs,
And folly may for ever be expected.

°Tis Envy’s triumph to prefer the past,
Suil on each current hour the demon scowls 5
As if our sires in purer moulds were cast,
And had not like ourselves been rogues and fools,

Homer, they say, whom every dunce admires,
Had but a very sorry vagrant life ;
And Socrates with all his fame expires,
Starv'd by his friends, and henpeck’d by his wife,

That every future age will read with rapture
These wond’rous works, most evident appears ;
Yet if my burial must begin the chapter,
Pll wait with patience for an hundred years.
THUNDERPROOF,

176 poetry. Aug. 8.

iptemmgunes PE SRR ae ll a

MARTIAL, LIB. XII. EPIG, XXXi, IMITATED.

For the Bee.

Tuat prove, these fountains, this delightful fhade,
An summer’s richest luxuries array’d 5
‘The pear, the peach, the orange, and the vine,
These olives ‘I so proudly mark as mine;
Those flow’ry meadows, yon transparent pool,
The speckled trout, the plump delicious fowl,
Marcella give; from thirty years of toil,
When, friendlefs, I return’d to see my native soil.
- More priz’d, more precious far than all the rest,
She gave—that love which fires her godlike breast.
In my chill’d veins, tumultuous joy revives;
1 live but to adore the first of wives. Amicve.

THE NINTH ELEGY OF BUCHANAN TRANSLATED.
For the Bee.

“‘Tir’d of disastrous love's insulting yoke,

1 fled my mistrefs, and her bondage broke,

But Cupid’s jealous eye pursu’d my flight,

«© And dare you, thus,” he cried, ‘* our empire slight?”
‘He said, and wav'd his torch; the torch appears,
‘Long since, alas! extinguifh’d by my tears.

‘The angry boy intent on vengeance frown’d,

And cast his rattling quiver on the ground.

Ynstant at me he levell’d ev'ry dart,

A thousand fhafts are buried in my heart;

Before, behind, his rage afsails me round,

Till my whole.body scems one common wound,
Mad that I bear his arrows undismay’d,

‘He flies, dear Fanny! to demand your aid ;
Advancing boldly while asleep you lay,

He caught your golden locks, and stole a hair away 5
And as I laugh*d,—for whe could fancy harms
From such a source? he sternly-bound my arms.
While long and hard I strove, but strove in vain,
‘He forc’d me back your captive to remain.

Ev’n I who in contempt the tyrant held,

And vaunted that his sway for ever was expell’d,
“Now feel the pangs of love revolt again,

And a freth fever boils in every vein;

But you whom Venus views with kinder eyes,

And suffers to attain a happy prize;

Laugh not too proudly that J thus repine,

“Your fate to-moirpw may be such as mine. CINNA-

r792. “w dictionar "Ye 17z<

.

EXERCISES IN PRACTICAL GRAMMAR.

Continued from p. 152.
Dictionary.
Win:, adj. A term employed to denote relative extent in
certain circumstances. Opposed to narrow and strait.

1. This term is, in its proper sense, applied only to de-
note the space contained within any body closed all round
on every side, as a house, gate, @’c; and differs from broad
in this, that it never relates to the superficies of solid ob-
jects, but is employed to exprefs the capaciousnefs of any
body which containeth vacant space; nor can capacious~
nefs, in this sense, be exprefsed by any other word but
wide.

2. As many bodies may be considered either with res-
pect to their capaciousnefs or superficial extent ; in all these
cases, either the term broad, or wide, may be used; as a
broad or wide street, or ditch, &c. but witha greater or lefser
degree of propriety, according to the circumstances of the
object, or the idea we wilh to convey. In a street where
the houses are low, and the boundaries open, or a ditch of
small depth and large superficies, as this largenefs of su-
perficies bears the principal proportion, broad would be
more proper ; but if the houses were of great height, or the
ditch of great depth, and capaciousnefs is a principal pro-
petty that affects the mind, we would naturally say a
wide street or ditch ; and the same may be said of all simi-
lar cases. But there are some cases in which both these
terms are applied, with a greater difference of mean-
ing: thus we say a broad or a wide gate; but as the gate
is employed either to denote the aperture in the wall, or
the matter which closes that aperture, these terms are

each of them used to. denote that particular quality’ to
VOL, X, zZ Vy

378 @ dictionary. Aug. 3.
which they are applied ; and as the opening itself can ne-
ver be considered as a superficies, the term wide, in this
case, denotes the distances between the sides of the aper-
ture ; while, on the contrary, broad denotes the extent of
matter fitted to close that aperture; nor can these two
terms in any case be substituted for one another.

3. As a figurative exprefsion it is used as'a cant

phrase for a mistake ; as you are wide of the mark ; that is
not near the truth,
_ Narrow, adj. A relative term; denoting a proportional
distance between the sides of the superficies of plain bodies.
Opposed to broad.
' 1, As this is only applied to superficies, it is exactly
contrasted by broad, and is applied in all cases where the
term droad can be used, (see Broap) and in no other case
but as a contrast to it, except the following.

2. It sometimes is employed to describe the smallnefs
of space circumscribed between certain boundaries, as op-
posed to wide, and nearly synonymous with sérait ; we say,
a wide or a narrow house, church, &c. For the necefsary
distinctions here, see the article Sraarr.

3. Ina figurative sense it denotes parsimony, poverty,

confined sentiments.
Sraait, adj. A relative term denoting the extent of

space in certain circumstances. Opposed to wide. See
Wipe.

1. This term is employed in its proper sense to denote
only space, as contained between surrounding bodies; in
such circumstances as to denote some degree of confine-
‘ment ; and is exactly opposed to wide, as a wide or a strait
gate,&c. See Wipe.

' 9. Sonecefsary is it that the idea of confinement, fhould
+e connected with this word, that, in alithose cases where
ahe space contained is large,as a church or house, we

4

1792. - a dictionary. : 79
cannot exprefs a smaller proportional width by this term.
And as we have no other word to exprefs space in these
circumstances, we have been obliged to force the word
narrow from its natural signification, and make it exprefs
this. See Narrow.

3. Insome particular-cases narrow or strait may be em-.
ployed to denote the same object; as @ narrow ora strait
Zane: bat here strat is never employed but where an idea
of confinement is suggested, and where it is exactly con-
trasted to wzde 5 nor can narrow be employed but in such
circumstances where broad would be a perfect contrast to:
it. Therefore these two terms may be always employed
in the same circumstances as those which contrast them.
may be. For an account. of which, see Wipe.

4. Strait is also employed to denote a narrow opening:
in the land, through which.the sea flows, as the Straits
of Gibraltar, the Strats of Dover, the Straits of Sun-
da, &. This word ought never to be confounded with.

straight. See Srraicur.

5. The term: strait is likewise, in a particular manner,
used to denote the smallnefs.of the internal diameter of.
those small bodies which are fitted to receive or contain:
others, as any kind. of bag, tube, body-clothes, mortoises,
and others of the same kind ; and in all'these cases this:
term may be employed to denote the smallnefs- of their lef-
ser diameter, and never the term narrow. But in cer-
tain circumstances the word. tight may be substituted for:
it. “See Ticur.

6. Strait, ina figurative sense, denotes any sort of con-
finement of sentiment or disposition.

Ticut, adj. A term employed in certain circumstances
to denote the internal capacity of particular bodies; nearly:
synonymous with srrazt,.

a8o @ dictionary. Aug. 3.

This term is confined entirely to denote the smallnefs of the
internal dimensions of such objects as are formed to cover, or
to receive, or contain other solid bodies, anc can be employed
in no other case. And although it agrees with strait, in
always denoting confinement, and by being applicable to
the same species of objects, yet it differsin the following
respects: x. If there be any difference of the diameter af
the ebjects to. which the term strazt can be applied, it al-
ways has reference to the smaller; yet sight may be ap-
plied to any sort of confinement, whether it regards the
length or the breadth. 2, Strait can be applied to all bo-
dies of capacity when of small diameter, without any sort-
of reference to the nature of the substance which it may »
be capable of containing. For we can say a strait bag, a
strait sleeve, @ strait mortoise, a strait gate, &c. whereas
tight can only be applied to any body, when it is conside-
red as having a rseference to another body which is in-
tended to be contained in it, and is pinched for want of
room. ‘Thus we say she sleeve of a coatis too tight for the
arm, the mortoise is too tight for the tenon, &c ;. but wecan-
not say the éag or the gate is too tight, because these are
fitted to receive any sort of objects. And hence it hap-
pens that, in many cases, the dimensions of the same ba-
dy may be exprefsed by szght or strait when considered in
different: circumstances. Thus we may say this sleeve is
too stra, when we look at.a coat when lying on the table,
and consider its proportions; but it is- not till we have
tried it upon the arm that it is intended to cover, that
we call it “ght. And we may say agate 1s too strait, or too
ght : but in the first case we consider it as being too con-
fined for admitting objects to pafs through it; and, in. the
last, as being too confined with respect to. the leaves that
are to fhut the aperture, not allowing them space to moxe
with freedom.

1792. "a dictionary. rer

Srrarcut, adj. A general term which denotes that th
object te which it refers is not bent or crooked in any di-
rection ; always contrasted with dent or crooked, and ne,
ver with dread or wide.

A straight line the fhortest line that canbe drawn be-
tween two points. -

This word had no other signification in the Englith lan-
guage till a few years ago, when some affected writers took
it in their head to counfound it with s¢razt, or to interchange
the one word for the other ; so that strait and szraight are
now frequently confounded with each other: nothing is
now more common than to hear of a strait /ine, and the
Straights of Gibraltar. This isa corruption of the language
that cannot be too. severely reprehended.

These examples may serve to give some idea of the
plan of an Englifh dictionary composed upon _philosophi-
cal principles ; but, besides the. circumstances above enu-.
merated, there are many others which would require parti-
cular attention in the execution of a work of this kind.
In the Englith language a great variety of terms occur,
which denote matter under certain general forms or circum-
stances, without regard to the minute diversities, that may
take place ; as the word c/oth, which denotes matter manu-
factured into a particular form including under it all the va-
riety of stuffs manufactured in that particular way of what-
ever materials, colours, textures, or finenefs they may be,
The same may be said of wood,zron, yarn, and a great vari-
ety of otherterms of the same nature, some of which cannat
afsume any plural, while others. admit of it in all cases, and
others admit or refuse it according to the different. circum.
stances in which they are considered. Ina dictionary,
therefore, all this variety of cases ought to be clearly and
distinctly pointed out under each particular article : this
is the more necefsary, as some of these words have otheis
formed from them, which might be readily mistaken for

\

182 Selico, a tale: Aug, &.
their plurals, although they have a very different significa-
tion ; as ¢/othes, which does not denote any number of pieces
gr different kinds of cloth, but wearing apparel. 'The fol-
lowing example will elucidate this head.

Woop, n. A solid substance of which the trunks and
branches of trees consist.

1. This term is employed to denote the solid parts of
vegetables of all kinds, in whatever form or circumstances
they are found. Nor doesthis term admit of a plural with
propriety, unlefs in the circumstances after mentioned ;.
for we say, many different hinds of wood, in preference to
many kinds of woods ; or we say oak, afb, or elm wood, not
woods.

2. But where we want to contrast wood of one quali-
ty or ccuntry with that of another, it admits of a
plural: for we say white woods are in general softer
than red; or West Indian woods are generally of greater
specific gravity than the European woods : but unlefs where
the colour, or some quality which distinguifhes it from:
growing wood, is mentioned, this plural ought as much as:
pofsible to be avoided, as it always suggests an idea of
growing wood.

3. Wood likewise denotes a number of trees growing
near one another; being nearly synonymous with forest-
See Forest. In this sense it always admits of a plural:
as, ye woods and wilds, whose solitary gloom, &-.

Many other particulars would require to be adverted to:
in forming a perfect dictionary, which are omitted to a-
void becoming tedious ; our design. is merely to suggest a:
few general notions on this subject.

SELICO, A TALE.
Translated from the French of M. Florian.
Tr one would believe what some philosophers afsert, that
this world is governed by two powers, one who gives us

1792. Selico, a tale, 183
the little good we enjoy, and the other all the evil which
abounds, we. fhould be induced to think that in Africa
this doctrine had its foundation. No land produces se
many poisons, venomous reptiles, or wild beasts. The little
we know of the history.of Morocco, of the negroes of
Andia,'of the Jaggas, and other districts along the coast
to the country of the Hottentots, appears very much to re-
- semble the histories of lions, panthers, and serpents, so
worthy to partake of this burnt up land with its cannibal
kings who carry to market the fleth of their prisoners,
In the midst however of these sanguinary monsters and
disgusting horrors, (some who sell their children, and
others who eat their prisoners,) natural equity and jus-
tice, real virtue, constancy in pain, and a contempt of death,
are sometimes to be found. ‘These examples, rare as they
may be, are sufficient to interest us in these degraded
beings, and to remind us they are men. Thus in
the most barren desart, a few green plants, which con-
sole the distrefsed traveller, remind him that he is still
upon the earth.

Inthe kingdom of Juida,-on the coast of Guinea, beyond
the cape of three points, and not far from the city of Sabi,
in the year 1727, lived the widow Darina. Shewasthe mo-
ther of three sons whom fhe had nursed with a tendernefs
fortunately very common in nature, but not so in these
climates, where children are looked upon as objects
of commerce, and sold by their unnatural parents, The eldest
wascalled Guberi, thesecond Teloné, the youngest Selico.
“Atl of them had good dispositions and adored their mother,
who now, aged and infirm, only existed by their attentions
and care., The riches of this family were comprised in a
hut, which they inhabited together, and a small field nearit
which supplied them with maize, Every morning one of the

184 Selico, a tale.’ Aug. 3,
brothers alternately went a hunting, cultivated the field,
or attended their mother. At night they met together,
the hunter brought his partridges, his parrots, or his comb of
honey, the farmer his herbs and roots, andhe who remained

‘at home had the repast ready prepared 5 they supped ‘all

four together, contending with each other for the pleasure
of waiting on their mother; and afterwards laying them-
selves down on straw, slept in quiet till the return of day.

Selico, the youngest of the brothers went often to Sabi
to carry the earliest fruits as offerings of his poor tamily

“to the temple of the deity: this deity, as is well known
was a huge serpent, of the sort called fetzches, which have

“no venom, and who devour others which are venomous;
they are se much revered in Juida, that any person kil-
ling one would be thought guilty of a great crime; there-
fore this species of snake is increased to a prodigious de-
gree; and, being sacred, they are found in quantities in
every town or village, where they eat familiarly from
their plates, and even lay their eggs in the beds of ‘the
natives, who look upon it as the most fortunate of events,
and a certain presage of their well doing.

Selico was the handsomest, the best made, and the most
amiable of all the negroes of Juida ; he had seen, in the
temple, Berifsa, the daughter of the high priest, who surpaf-
sed all her companions in elegant grace and beauty. Selico
adored her and was happy in having his love- returned.
Every Wednesday, sacred to religion and repose among the
negroes, the young lover hastened to the temple, and _paf-
sed the day with his dear Berifsa, conversing with her of
hhis mother, his love, and the happinefs they fhould enjoy
when Hymen had united them; Berifsa did not disguise
her sentiments, and the aged Faculho her father, who ap-
proved of this union, promised, as he embraced them,
that he would soon crown their mutual tendernefs,

492. Selico, a'tale. 185

At length this long withed for epocha came,—the day
‘was fixed for the ceremony,—the mother of Selico and his
two brothers had already prepared the hut for the bride and
bridegroom, when the famous Truro Audati, king of Da-
homai, whose rapid conquests have been celebrated even
in Europe, invaded the kingdom of Andia and exterminated
itsinhabitants. In advancing at the head of his formidable
army, he was stopped by the large river which divides it
from Juida, whose king, a pusillanimous and cowardly be-
ing, governed by his wives and ministers, never thought
‘of opposing any troops to those of the conqueror; he
‘thought that his gods would defend his country, and or-
‘dered all the serpents fetiches to be carried to the banks
of the river. The conqueror, surprised and picqued to
thave only such reptiles to combat, plunged into the river
with his troops, and soon swam over. The gods from whom
such miracles were expected were soon cut into pieces,
roasted, and devoured by the conquerers. The king of .
Juida, act thinking any farther effort of avail, fled and hid
himself in a neighbouring island. The warriors of Audati
spread all over his kingdom, and with fire and sword
burnt villages and forests, and mafsacred all without pity.
Fear had dispersed what few inhabitants had escaped this
butchery ; the three brothers at the first approach of the
conqueror, had fled with their mother on their fhoulders,
to hide themselves in the thickest forest. Selico would
not quit Darina as long as fhe was exposed to the smallest
danger ; but he no sooner saw her in safety, than trem-
bling for Berifsa, he hastened to Sabi to inquire after her,
to save her, or to perifh together. Sabi had just been ta-
ken by the Dahomais ;—the streets ran with blood ;—the
houses pillaged and destroyed ;—the palace of the king,
the temple of the serpent, were no longer any thing but
smoking ruins, covered with carcases, whose heads the

VOL. .X- AA - rm

‘
.

186 Selico, a tale. Ang. 8.
barbarians had, according to their custom, carried away
with them. The unhappy Selico, in despair, wifhed for
death, and dared it a thousand times in the midst of this
soldiery, drunk with brandy and ‘with blood. Selico search-
ed all these miserable ruins, looking for, and calling, with
cries of grief, on Berifsa and Faculho; but in vain! he could
not discern their bodies amidst so many mutilated trunks,
After having given up five days to this fruitlefs and melan-
-choly search, Selico set out to return to his mother, no longer
doubting but that Berifsa and her father had fallen vic-
tims to the ferocious Dahomais. He found his mother in
the same wood where he had left her with his brothers.
The melancholy and distracted looks of Selico, frightened
and alarmed a family already miserable. Darina wept
over his misfortunes, and attempted consolations which
her son was insensible to. He refused all food, and seem-
ed determined to starve himself to death. Guberi and
Teloné did not endeavour to alter his resolution by rea-
soning or intreaties; but pointed to their old mother,
who now had not any longer home or bread, or any thing
in this world but her children, and then afked, if, after
such a sight, he did not feel himself bold enough to live.
Selico promised he would; and endeavoured to think
no more of his misfortunes, but to divide with his
brothers their attention to his mother. They penetrated
more into the interior parts of the forest ; built a hut in
a sequestered valley ; and endeavoured to supply, by the
chace, the maize and roots which they were in want of.
Having lost their bows and arrows, and other things
which they had not time to carry off with them, they
soon felt the effects of famine. Fruits were scarce in this
forest, where the monkies disputed them with the three
brothers. The land only produced grafs; they had no
jnstruments to work it, and no seed to sow, if it had been
worked. The rainy season was setting in, and their dis-

‘1792.- Selo, a tale, 187
trefs still augmented. The poor mother continually suf-
fering upon a bed of dried leaves, never complained, but
-was declining very fast : her sons, worn out with hunger,
could no longer go into the woods, which were now un-
der water: they set traps for small birds, and, when they
took any, which was very seldom, they carried it to their
mother, and gave it her with a forced smile ; but the mo-
ther scarce would eat it, because fhe could not make: her
sons partake of it.

Three months pafsed without bringing any change

to their miserable situation. The three brothers obliged

at last to come to some determined resolution, consulted.
together unknown to Darina. Guberfi proposed first that
they fhould go to the coast, and that one of them fhould
be sold to the first European factory, in order to buy
_ bread, maize, instruments of agriculture, and every thing
necefsary ta support their aged parent. A melancholy
silence was the answer of the two brothers. ‘To sepa-.
rate,—to quit eash other for ever,—to be the slave of
white men! That idea distracted them.——“ Who wilk
be sold ?” cried out Teloné, with a doleful voice. ‘* For-
tune fhall determine it; answered Guberi; ‘‘ Let us
. throw three different sized stones into this pitcher of
muddy water,—fhake it well,—and’ he who draws out.
the smallest fhall be the unfortunate person, No bro-
ther, interrupted Selico, fortune has already determined.
It is me who am the unfortunate person ;—you have forgot
then that I have lost Berifsa, and that you alone hindered.
me from dying, by telling me } fhould be usefulto my
mother : now is the time, perform your promije, and sell.
me. Guberi and Teloné endeavoured, but in vain, to op-
pose the generous offer of their brother: Selico was deaf
to their prayers, refused to draw lots, and threatened to
go alone to the factory, if they obstinately persisted in re-
fusing to accompany him. ‘Lhe two eldest at last consen»

‘

¥88 ’ Selico, a tale, Aug: &..
ted, and it was agreed on that Guberi fhould remain with,
his mother, and that Teloné fhould accompany Selico to.
the Dutch factory, where he fhould receive the price of
his brother’s liberty, and fhould then return with the pro-
visions, @’c. of which they were in want,

During this agreement Selico was the only one who did-
not weep; but what difficulty and distrefs did he suffer to
hide his tears when he was to leave his mother, and. bid
her an eternal adieu! to embrace her for the last time!
and to deceive her in swearing that he would seon return,
with Teloné! that they were only going to revisit their fora
mer habitation, and find if they could not again take-pof-
sefsion of it! The good old woman believed them, but. fhe:
could scarcely tear herself out of the arms of her sons; fhe-
trembled forthe dangers they were about to run ;, and by an
involuntary foresight fhe ran.after Selico, when hie Jrad dis.
appeared from. her presence. ‘The two young brothers,
of whom it was difficult to say which was zie most to be
pitied, arrived in. a few days: at the civy of Sabi. The
murders had ceased ;. Peace began to raise her head ; and
the king of the Dahomais, quiet pefsefsor of the states of
Juida, wifhed to encourage an intercourse with Europe-
ans, and had given them an establifhment within his walls.
Many Englifh and French merchants. were admitted to,
his court, to whom he seld his numerous. prisoners, and’
he divided among his soldiers the lands of the conquered.
Teloné soon found a merchant who. offered him, an hun-
dyed crowns. for his brother. Whilst he was hesitating
and trembling at this. horrible bargain, a trumpet sounds.
in the square, and a public crier proclaims with a loud
voice, that the king of Dahomai. would give four hundred
ounces of gold to whoever would deliver alive a negro, as.
yet unkuown, who had dared to profane, the preceding
night, the seraglio of the monarch, and had escaped at
day-break, amidst the arms of his guards, Selico, on hear~

Box Netix Selico; # tale: r89.
ing this proclamation, made a sign to Teloné not to con--
clude the bargain with the merchant; and taking his bro-
ther aside, spoke thus to him im a firm and determined
voice: “ thou must sell me, and I am resolved on it, in
order to preserve my mother; but the moderate price
this white offers thee, will not make her comfortable.
Four hundred ounces of gold will be a large fortune for
her and you both. You must not let this opportunity
slip ; no, brother, you must bind me directly, and cont
duct me to the king as the criminal he is in search of.
Don’t be frightened, I know as well as you what punith-
ment awaits me; I have calculated its duration. and it
eannot last longer than’ ar hour ; and when my mother
brought me into the world, fhe suffered much longer.”
Teloné trembled so much he could not answer. Full of
alarm and tendernefs, he fell at the feet of Selico, embra+
ced his knees, and, prefsing them, besought him by the
name of their mother, by that of Berifsa, by every thing
he held dear and sacred on this'earth, to give up so ter-
rible a resolution, ‘‘ Of whom dost thou-speak ?” replied
Selico with a smile of anguifh, “I have lost Berifsa,; 1am
anxious to meet her again;—I preserve my mother by
my death, and render my brothers richer than ever they
could have expected, and I save myself a slavery that may
have lasted forty years. My determination is fixed; do
not argue longer, or I will go and deliver myself to the king;
thou wilt lease the benefit of my death, and be the means:
of destroying her to whom we are indebted for our. exist-
ence.” '

Intimidated by the tone and manner with which Selica
pronounced these last words, Teloné dared not to make
any reply; he obeyed his brother, and went for cords to
bind him. He tied his two arms behind:his back, as he
bathed it with his tears.; and, driving him before him, went
ta the palace of the king.

To be concluded in our next.

190. intelligence from New South Wales. Aug. 8.

———

FARTHER INTELLIGENCE FROM NEW SOUTH WALES».
Continued from vol. ix. p. 80.
Sydney, New South Wales, Oct..29. 1791.

4 ue governor continues to direct his views chiefly to
Norfolk island, and.the settlement at Rosehill, (now call-
ed Parramatta from the native name.) The town there

continues to. enlarge, according to the first plan, and. 200°

additional acres of land are cleared of the timber. But
the intense drought which has prevailed for upwards of
twelve months past, has almost deprived us of water ta
drink, and marred our hopes of reaping any considerable
increase from the harvest.

Indian corn is likely to be the most profitable grain
that can be raised in this country ; and our views are
chiefly directed to the cultivation of that. article; but
how we can succeed in raising a sufficient quantity, [
know not, without a more speedy method of preparingy
the ground is hit upon, than that by the spade and. hoe.

To labour with a plough is impracticable, as the stumps:
of the trees and their roots still remain in the. ground, and.
cannot now be removed. without an immensity of labour..

Such of the convicts: whose times are out, and. choose ta’

become settlers, have small grants of land given:to them,,
and men to cut down the trees, with eighteen. months.
provisions. from the public store. But the clearing and.
cultivation of the land depends wholly upon themselves.
The governor has endeavoured to place them as contigu-
ous to frefh water as pofsible ;. but that article is so: scarce
that there is a danger of their being without it, even with.
the best management. ‘They are allowed grain. alsa to.
sow their first crop, and a good many lately have made
trial of the businefs ; but some of them are already re-

penting of their bargains, and it is highly probable they.

will have greater cause ere long,

F792. intelligence from New South Wales, Oi .

A reform of government, (if this country is continu-
ed,) is much wanted; but nothing can be so truly accep-
table as freedom and a trial by jury, in all cases,

Our journies to the northward .or southward, along the
coast, have not as yet extended farther than Beakied! Bay
and Botany Bay. But the country backwards has-been
penetrated and. pretty accurately examined for upwards
of thirty miles; but, as I have formerly said, it has not
been commended, some few tracts excepted, that have
presented a better appearance.

Norfolk island, I am informed, from the benignity of
its soil, bids fair to support five or six hundred colonists
very wel But a greater number it is thought would
prove a burden, as a sufficient quantity of timber must be
left to’stand for firewood; and the whole island does not
exceed «11,000. acres.

At this place, and Parramatta, bricks and tiles are made
in numbers, and with ease ; so that more permanent build-
ings than our original habitations were, are erecting as
fast as pofsible. I with we could fill our granaries as rea-
dily as we can build houses.

The Mary Ann arrived here on the 9th of July last,
with 141 female convicts, after a pafsage of four months
and twelve days from Gravesend. Since which the Gor
gon, and six of the transports bound to this part of the

world, have come in all safety; the other four were left ~
at the cape.

They have been very healthy throughout the voyage, and
few of them have greatly exceeded five months on their
palsage.

These ten sail of transports will nearly land us 2000
convicts ; without bringing more than a proportion of six
months provisions for their subsistence ; so that store fhips .
will need to arrive fhortly, or else we fhall soon be sorely

pinched,

. WER 10 cortespondents, Aug. &
The governor is authorised, by this conveyance, to in-
€orm such of the convicts as have served their terms of
‘transportation, that they are at liberty to go where they
think proper ; had this been made known before, it
would have prevented much murmuring and discontent a-
mong them. They all despaired of ever being able to
leave this country, which operated so powerfully on their
minds that labour became painful, and any chance of esca-
ping, however dangerous, appeared to them preferable to
to that of remaining in perpetual ‘slavery. Fifteen of
them set out at different ‘times in two open boats belong-
ing to the settlement. How they will succeed I cannot
devise, but the chance is certainly much against them.
' The marines who have justly felt much indignation, at
the treatment they have met with here, are, to their great
joy, to return home immediately in the Gorgon. On
their arrival, as well as captain Hunter, matters must be
brought to light, and I have no doubt but the injured will
obtain ample justice.

The discontent and murmuring that has already arisen
in the New South Wales corps, prognosticates very little
harmony in that quarter, and I believe the chiefs in poli-
tics here are heartily sorry for the exchange, but as them-
selves are to blame for it, they do not deserve’ pity.

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

Tue very elaborate and interesting efsay by obn Burns is thankfully ree
ceived, and fhall be inserted as soon as pofsible. .

The criti ique by 4, M. M. came sife to hand. The poemto which
it refers is perhaps one of the most unequal in the Englith language; he
might have picked ouc many such faulcy pafsages. The semark seems
very just.

FM. scems to be more afraid than the subject requires, and more
zealous than is necefsary : ‘* persecute us, and we will thrive,” is an old
xemark. If the doctrines he repiehends be really pernicious, then the true
way to prevent them from doing hurt is to let them fall to the ground
without farther notice. The Editor of the Bee is no friend to persecution
in any form.

Many acknowledgements still deferred for want of room.

ae

THE BEE,

OR

ZITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER,

FOR

WeEpNzEsDAY, AUGUST 15. 1792.

Aw ACcouNT OF THE SOCIETY OF ARCADIA AT ROME By,
ABBE TOURNER, TEACHER OF LANGUAGES, EDINBURGH, AUTHOR
OF THE ANECDOTES OF POPE GANGANELLI, 29°C.

Continued from vol. ix. p. 281.

As I promised you in my last, I proceed in the nar-
rative of the establifhment of our Roman Arcadia.
The new Arcadians continued for some time in
their literary exercises, much to their own improve-
ment, as well as that of those who frequented their
afsemblies and public rehearsals, which always af-
forded great ‘satisfaction to the audience. But as
they had it in view, from the beginning, to institute
a pure and simple form of government, congenial to
‘a pastoral nation, they went on for the space of six
years, (or of an olympiad, and two years, to speak in
the stile of Arcadia,) from time to time enacting such
\ institutions as, by their conformity with the rights
of nature, promised to be firm and permanent, and
VOL, X. BB +

494 Italian literature. Aug. 15.
were generally approved and accepted by all the
members ; ordering certain customs also to be in-
troduced according as circumstances seemed to re-
quire. These regulations were several times en-
Jarged, varied, and rejected, until, by the universal
consent and obedience, it was decided which of them
were to be selected for the permanent regulation of
this literary republic. But as the members of Ar-
cadia had by this time encreased to an extraordinary

number, it would have been difficult to make ithe es-_

tablifhed rules and orders be observed, unlefs they
were collected under certain heads, which were
known to every ‘person ; it was resolved) to reduce
them inthe form of laws, and 4/fesibeo Cario, at that
time custode, or guardian of Arcadia, was ordered
to attend seriously to this important businefs.

In consequence of this resolution, the eustode col-
Jected these rules and orders, comprefsed them into
ten tables or Jaws, and two sanctions, which, that they
might claim more veneration, he caused to be writ-
ten by Opico Erimantéo (the celebrated jurisconsult,
Gian Vincenzo Gravina,) after the manner of the ten
tables of the old Roman laws.

The Arcadian codex being thus brought to perfec-
tion, in order that no person might plead ignorance,
a general afsembly of the fhepherds was called at the
Bosco Parrasio, (or the Parrhasian grove,) which
then existed on mount Palatine, once famous for the
Arcadian Evander and his mother Carmenta, in the
Orti Farnesianit, and were publifhed to them on the
2oth May in the-year 1696. The eustode began the
promulgation. of the laws, by the solemn formula Veli

ce ee

“1792. Italian literature. 195
tis jubeatis, Arcades, &c. (which you may see at the
end of the laws,) then Palemone Licurio (Silvio
Stampigha) one of the founders, with a clear voice
read aloud the laws and the sanction. These had
been carved on two large tables of fine marble, at the
expence ‘and by the orders of Carisio Alantino, (An-
thony Farnese duke of Parma) at that time in‘Rome

-and an acclamated* fhepherd. of Arcadia: The
marble tables werté fixed on the walls ofa little amphi--
theatre, which was purposely made out for. the con-.

“veniency of the Arcadians, all of which exist. at this

*day, although the Parrhasian grove has been trans--

ferred to another place.

After the reading of the laws, the marble tables:

were uncovered‘and thus exposed 'to the public; Opzca,

“in an eloquent harangue, which is printed in his
works, required the afsembly publicly to approve
and confirm those laws, if agreeable to their withes.
The ‘tablets: being distributed to the fhepherds,
‘who, by secret votes or ballot, gave their approba-.
tion to the laws and’ sanction; the custode Alfen-

- ‘sibéo repeated the formula Velitis jubeatis, &c. The:

three who had: been appointed to examine the:

yotes answered coetus universus scivit:

After the publication of the laws, the-custode read’
some regulations conducive to» the practical obser--
vance of them, after which Euganio Libade, ( Mens
‘ini, ) “and Erilo Cleonéo, (Gitdz,) rivalled one ano-
ther in the reliearsal of two excellent Italian poems,

_o* T thall have occasion to speak hereifter,of the reception in Arcadia
by acclamation.

196 Italian literature. Aug. 5.
relative to the promulgation of the laws, which was
thus concluded.

It would be depriving this narration of one of its
most interesting parts, if I fhould omit to present
your readers with the laws of Arcadia in their ori-
ginal form. They may serve as a model, on a small
scale, of a truly free government. To good sense,
time, and observation, unincumbered by metaphysi-
cal squabblings, and sophistical arguments, did the
founders of the Roman Arcadia trust the permanency
of their respectable literary republic, guarding by
-wise laws its constitution, alike against the tumults
of democracy, and the overbearing influence of aris-
tocracy. Happy were it for Rome, once the queen
of nations, that the might yet emerge from the dark
cloud that has covered her since the fall of that em-
pire, which owed its origin to superior energy in a
free constitution of government; and as the course.
of political knowledge even here, as well as in most
other parts of Europe, seems to be lefs obstructed,
and the reign of bigotry seems to be near an end, it»

is probable that it may yet emerge. Hoc erat ims.

votis, quod Du faxine.

As an Englifh translation cannot sufficiently con-
vey the beauties of the manly stile of the origina}
Latin, I presume this will be acceptable to a great
part of your readers.

Your readers, who are conversant with the Latin
elafsics, will undoubtedly relifh the beauties of the
original, for the others I fkall endeavour to give
hem a translation, which, if it does not convey that
nervous masculine stile of which the Latin language

ee

£792. Itahan hterature. 197
is susceptible, it will, however, inform them of the
good sense, which is contained in these laws.

Laws oF THE ARCADIANS.

1. The supreme power fhall belong to the com-
munity. Every individual fhall have a right to re-
sort to the same*.

mu. The custos for the administration and care of
the public affairs, fhall be created by the community
every olympiad. An unfit one fhall be removedt.

mt. The custos fhall have a vicar, and twelve col-
leagues. Of these the custos hall choose every year,
in turn, six new ones, with the consent of the general
afsembly, and fhall retain six of the old. He fhall
choose for himself two afsistants. Besides these,
there fhall not be any other public employments.
There fhall be no patron f.

iv. The votes fhall be secret. In creating or re-
moving a custos two thirds fhall form the majority.
Jn other affairs, any thing more than half fhall be the
majority ; if the votes are equal they must be re-
peated; after which, if still equal, the affair fhall
be consigned to chance ||.

Leces ARCADUM.

* 1. Penes commune summa potéstis esto. Ad idem cuilibet provo-
¢are jus esto. .

+ 11. Custos rebus gerundis, et procurandis singulis olympiadibus a
communi creator, minusque idoneus removeior.

Y 111. Custodi vicarius, et eollegie duojecim adsunto. Eorum singulis
annis custos consul:o univers») cuetu novos sex in urbem elig'to, sex ve= °
ferum retineto. Adinin’srros sihi duos adsumito. Pra.er hee alia
munera publica ne sunto. Ptrovus nullus esto.
_ || tv. Suff gia secreta sunto, caque in cus*ode creando aut removendo
trifariam dividuncor, juscusque numerus duz partes sunto. Czteris in

1698 Itahan literature: Aig. Ps...

v. Whatever fhall be acted or done by the college,
in regard to public affairs, the ewstos fhall refer it to
the community to the purpose of having it establifh-
ed for ever *.

vi. The general afsembly fhall'be called by the

~eustos, at least twice in winter, within doors, to ‘the
purpose of hearing what there is to be said, and'ex-
amining what has been done; but for the purpose of
rehearsing the poems, or difsertations of the fhepherds
who are present, six times in the year, once for those
-of the absent, during the vacancies of spring and
summer, in the Parrhasian grove in the open air+.
vir. Evil and ‘satirical verses, obscene, supersti-
tious, and impious writings, fhall not be repeated tf.
vu. In the afsembly, and in treating the affairs of
Arcadia, the pastoral customs fhall be always used;
but in the poetical, or in the prose compositions, as far
only as the subject will allow it ||.
- ax. Nothing fhall be printed with the Arcadian:
name without leave from the public}...

rebus bifariam dispertiuntor, quique-partem dimidiam exsuperat numerus=
justus esto} si paria fuant iterantor ; deinceps res sorti committitor.

* v. Quidquid per collegium de rebus communibus: actum gestunive
fuat quo perpetuo ratum siet ad.commune refertor.

+ vr. Ccetus universus relaticnibus audiuadis, actisque cogroscundis
hyeme saltem bis in edibus 5 carminibus autem, aut orationibus pronun=
ciandis, presentium quidem pastorum per annum sexies, absentium semel,
vernis et wstivis feriis in nemus Parrhasium per custodem sub dio cone
vocator. .

f viz. Mala Carmina, et famosa, obscena, superstitiosa, impiave-
scripta ne pronunciantor. .

|] vir. In coetu et rebus Arcadicis pastoritius mos perpetuo, in car-
minibus autem, et orationibus quantum res fert adhibetor.

§ ix. Arcadico nomine typis injufsu publico nequid editor.

+

Ee

E492. Ltalian literature. 199
x. Asmany denominations as there are of Arcadian
ands, as many {hall be the fhepherds and the. pastoral
names: when any is deceased or expelled, another
thall take his place*.
SANCTION.

“If any person acts; fhall, or fhould act, against
these laws, or fhall hinder any one from acting. ac-
cording to them, he fhall be immediately expel-
Jed from Arcadia, and his name fhall be erased by:
‘the custode, in the presence of the colleagues.

If any thing-in these laws fhould be found obscure,
-or intricate, or not understood, the right of interpre-
_ ting or supplying fhall. belong to the community of
‘the Arcadians, after having consulted the:most ex-
perienced amongst the fhepherds according to the cus-
‘tom of our ancestors; and whatever fhall be decreed,
or judged, thall be carefully preserved by the custos ;
nor fhall it be introduced in the tables ofthe laws.
it fhall not be permitted te any one to introduce
new laws.
Alphesiboeus Caryus, custos, thus requested. the
general afsembly: May it be your will and your
command, O! Arcadians, that what is comprehended
and ordered in these laws, for the government of our
‘community, fhall be, by common authority and com-
mand, deemed firm and establifhed for ever.
And that the fhepherds from hence forth fhall be
bound by them for ever; so. that whoever after

* x. Quot praediorum Arcadicorum titu!i totidem pastores, pastorum-
qze nomina sunto, ingue mortui aut ex puncti locum alius sufficiter.

200 ftahan literature. Aug. 15,
this fhall be received into Arcadia, fhall be obliged,
as by oath, to the obedience of these laws *,
The general afsembly agreed.
In the third year of the six hundred and eighteenth
olympiad ; the secund year of the second olympiad
from the restoration of Arcadia, a joyful day for

evert. .

Before the afsembly retired they wisely decreed,
to dedicate and consecrate their laws to the pope as
prince of the country who was then pope Innocent x11.

By decree of the general afsembly.

To Innocent xu. most good, and most high
pontif, moderator of the world, defender of divine
and human rights, Arcadia dedicates and consecrates

her laws tf.

SancTio.

“ Si quis adversus h, 1. facit, faxit, fecerit; quique facit, faxit, feceritve
quo minus quis secundum h. 1. faceret, tecifsetve, facturusve siet confes-
tim exarcas esto, ejusque nomen coram collegio per custodem inducitor.

Si quid in his legibus obscurum perplexumve siet, sive comprehensum
non siet, communi Arcadum, consultis peritioribus inter pastores, move
majorum, interpretandi, supplendique jus esto; quodque decretum judi~
catumve siet penes custodem adseryator; in legem tabulas ne redigitor.
Nulli novas leges ferre fas esto.

Iphesiboeus Caryus custcs coetura universum ita rogavit. Welitis’
jubeatis Arcades ut, qua in his legibus ad nostri communis regimen com-~
prehensa prescriptaque sunt, authoritate jufsuque communi justa rata
firma perpetuo sient, Jisdemque pastores ,osthac omres perpetuo tee
neantur, ut quicumque Arcadicum deinceps nomen adsumserit obstrictus
H. L. veluti sacramento siet. :

CoETUS UNIVERSUS SCIVIT.

+ Olympiad. pcxvrir. ana. iii. ab a.1, olympiad 11. ann. il. die pere

petuo lzeta.
Ex COETUS UNIVERSI\CONSULTO,

¢ Innocentio x11. pontifici optimo maximo moderatori orbis terrarum,

divini, humanique juris tutel@ suas Arcadia leges dicat consecratque.

179% on delicacy of sentiment. 208

ESSAY ON DELICACY OF SENTIMENT.
For the: Bee.

Oh! teach-us,—yet unspoil’d by wealth!
That secret rare, becween th’ extremes to move,
Of mad good nature, and of meanself love. Por.

Tue character of delicacy of sentiment, so esteemed
at present, seems to have been unknown to the an-
cients. It is certainly a great refinement on huma-
nity. Refinements are fever attend&d to in the ear-
lier-ages, when the occupations of war, and the wants
of unimproved life, leave little opportunity, and lefs
inclination, fer fanciful enjoyments. Danger and
distrefs require strength of mind, and necefsarily ex-
clude an attention to those delicacies, which, while
they please, infallibly enervate.
That tendernefs which is amiable in 2 state of per-
fect civilization, is despised as a weaknefs among
unpolifhed nations. Shocked at the smallest circum-
‘stances which are disagreeable, it cannot support the
‘idea of danger and alarm. So far frem exercising
‘the cruelties which are sometimes politically necef-
sary in a-tude state, it starts with horror from the
sight, and at the description of them. It delights in
the calm‘occupations of rural life, and would gladly
‘resign the spear andthe fhield for the-fhepherd’s
-crook and-the lover’s garland. But in an unformed
‘community, where constant danger requires constant
‘defence, those dispositions which delight in retire-
‘ment and ease will be treated with general contempt;
_ and no temper of mind which is despised will be long
-epidemical.
VOL. x, cc : Wiha

~

202 on delicacy of sentiment. » Aug 5.
. The ancient Greeks and Romans were the most
civilized people on the earth. They, however, were
unacquainted with that extreme delicacy of senti-
ment which is become so universally prevalent in
modern times. Perhaps some reasonable causes may
be afsigned. The stoic philosophy endeavoured to
introduce a total apathy, and, though it was not em-
‘braced, in allits rigidity, by the vulgar,*yetitshad a
sufficient number of votaries to diffuse a general taste
for an insensibility of temper. It perhaps originally
meant no more than to teach men to govern their
affections by the dictates of reason ; but as a natural
want of feeling produced the same effects as a ra~
tional regulation of the pafsions, it soon pafsed among
the vulgar for what it could lay no claim to, a phi-
losophical indifference. !
That respectful attention to women, which in mo-
ern times is called gallantry, was not to be found
among the ancients. Women were looked upon as
inferior beings, whose only duty was to contribute
to pleasure,-and superintend domestic economy. . It
was not till the days of chivalry that men fhowed
that desire of pleasing the softer sex, which seems
to allow them a superiority. This deference to wo-
men refines the manners and softens the temper ; and
itis no wonder that the ancients, who admitted no
women to their social conversations, fhould acquire a
roughnefs of manners incompatible with delicacy of
sentiment.
Men who acted, thought, and spoke, like the ancients,
were unquestionably furnithed, by nature, with evéry
feclingin great perfection. But their mode ofeducation

E792. on delicacy of sentiment. 203
contributed rather to. harden, than to mollify. their
hearts. Politics and war were the sole general ob-
jects. .Ambition, it is well known, renders all other
pafsions subservient to itself; and the youth who
‘had been accustomed to military discipline, and had
endured the hardthips of a campaign, though he
might yield to the allurements of pleasure, would
-not have time to attend to-the refinements of deli-
cacy. But the modern soldier, in the present. mode
‘of conducting war, is not compelled to undergo.many
personal hardthips, either in the preparation. for his
- ‘profefSion, or in the exercise of it. Commerce, but
dittle known to many ancient nations, gives the mo-
derns an-opportunity of acquiring. opulence. without
amuch difficulty or danger,; and the infinite, numbers
who inherit this opulence, in.order to:pafs away life
swith ease, have. recourse to the various arts.of ex~
-eiting pleasure.. The profefsions of divinity, and
law, leave sufficient. time, opportunity, and inclina-
;tion to most. of-their profefsors, to: pursue every
_jamusement. and gratification.. The ggneral plan of
-modern.education,.which,, among the liberal, consists -
of the study of the poets and sentimental writers,
_contributés, perhaps more than all other causes, to:
-humanise the heart and refine the sentiments: for,,
at the period when: education. is.commenced,, the:
heart.is most. susceptible of imprefsion..
. Whatever disposition. tends. to. soften; without:
-weakening the mind, must.be cherithed ;. and it must
-be allowed.that, delicacy. of sentiment, . on_this side
the extreme, adds greatly to the happinefs of mai--
ekind, by diffusing an. universal. benevolence. It.

204 on delicacy of sentiment. ° Aug. UF.
teaches men to feel for others as for themselves ; pit
disposes us.to rejoice with the happy, and, by par-
taking, to increase their pleasure. It frequently ex-
cludes the malignant pafsions, which are the sources
of the greatest misery in life. It excites a pleasing
sensation in our own breast, which, if its duration
be considered, may be placed among the highest gra-.
tifications of sense. ‘The: only ill consequence: that
can be apprehended from it is, an effeminacy of mind, .
which may disqualify us for vigorous pursuits and.
manly exertions.

In the most succefsful course of life, obstacles will -
‘impede, and disagreeable circumstances disgust. To
bear these, without feeling them, is sometimes necef-.
sary in the right conduct of life: but he who is
tremblingly alive all over, and whose sensibility ap-
proaches to sorenefs, avoids the contest in which he
knows he must be hurt.. He feels injuries never-
committed; and resents affronts never intended.
Disgusted with men and manners, he either seeks.
retirement, to indulge his melancholy, or, weakened +
by continual chagrin, he conducts himself with folly ;
and imprudence.

How then thall we avoid the extreme of a disposi-.
tion, which, in the due medium, is productive of the
most salutary consequences ? In this excefs, as welk
as all others, reason must be called in to moderate.
Sensibility must not bé permitted to sink us into.
that state. of indolence, which, effectually reprefsés
those manly sentiments that may very well consist:
with the most delicate. The greatest mildnefs is
commonly united with the greatest fortitude im the

E492 * antiquities in Scotland. nos
true hero. Tendernefs, joined with resolution, form,
indeed, a finifhed character,

The affectation. of great sensibility is.extremely
common. It is, however, as odious as the reality is
amiable. It renders a man: contemptible, and:a-wo-
man ridiculous. Instead of relieving the afflicted,
which is the necefsary effect-of genuine sympathy, a
character of this sort flies from misery, to thew. that
it is too delicate to support the sight of distrefs._
The appearance of a toad, or the jolting of a carriage,
will cause a paroxysm of fear. Butitis remarkable -
that this delicacy and tendernefs often disappear in
‘solitude, and the pretender to uncommon sensibility -
is frequently. found, in the absence of witnefses, to
-he uncommonly unfeeling,

To have received a tender heart*from the hand of
nature, is.to have received the means.of the greatest.
blefsings. To have guided it by the dictates of reas.
son, is to have acted up tothe dignity of human na-.

ture, and to have obtained that happinefs of which
‘the heart. was constituted susceptible.

May a temper, thus laudable in itself, never be
rendered contemptible by affectation, or uselefs by
neglect !

Chm t MESCHEZABEEL.

—_.

ON VITRIFIED FORTIFICATIONS

IN SCOTLAND. .
Continued from vol. ix. p. 216..

Since the foregoing account of vitrilied fortificas
tions jn Scotland was written, I have examined se

206 antiquities in Séotland. « Aug. he-
veral other hills, fortified after the same manner as

that of Knockferrel, but I find they differ from each
‘other in some particulars. At Knockferrel the vi-
‘trified crust surrounded the wall only on the outside,
-whereas at Tapo-noath. in Aberdeenfhire, where. a
darge fortification of this kind has been, the vitrified

crust is only discoverable on the inner side, of the
wall, without any marks of vitrification on the out-
side, except at one place, where the whole of the
conical wall is incrusted on both sides. J apprehend,

indeed, that the whole’ of the wall on this. hill has
been originally incrusted on both sides, but as the
hill is very steep, and the wall has probably been
built very near the edge of the precipice, the founda-

tion has gradually given.way, so as to allow the yi--
trified crust on the outside, to slip down the hill, at-
the foot.of which large mafses of it are still.to be

-found in abundance ; and, being thus demolithed, nio-
-thing now remains on that part of the wall but the loose
‘stones, that formed originally the heart, of the. wall,
tumbled, in part, down the hill; whereas the vestiges
-ef the inner crust, whose foundations remain firm, are
‘still distinctly perceptible. .The hill, on that part
where the wall remains entire, is lefs steep than the
other part, of it; the green sod remaining entire to
the very foot of the wall, which seems to: confirm
«this conjecture.

On the top of the hill called Dun-o-deer in Blinc
deenfhire, there are also vestiges of a fortification of
the same kind; but as I have observed some parti-

culars that I did not discover in any of the. other:

TyH2R0 antiquities in Scotland. 2079
hills of the same clafs' that I examined, I fhall des.
eribe them with some degree of accuracy.

This “is a beautiful green: hill, situated in the
middle of the extensive vale, called theGarioch. This
hill was celebrated by Boethius, as contaiving inex-
haustible mines. of gold: in its bowels, from which
there ifsued such a subtile efluvium, or exudation,
er what you please to call it, as tinged the teeth of
the fheep which pastured upon it, in his days, with a
beautiful golden hue. But he lived in that age when
alchemy flourifhed, so that it was no difficult matter
for them to convert iron into gold.

‘On the top of. this hill, ‘besides. the vitrified wall
already alluded to, there are also the remains of ano-~
ther ancient structure of stone and lime, which is by
the vulgar supposed to have been the palace of one-
of the kings of Scotland. It discovers no remains of.
princely magnificence, and hes been evidently a
strong hold, erected at that period when every prince-
ly baron was obliged to have ‘such habitations, for,
securing himself and his vafsals from the sudden at-.
tacks of his barbarous neighbour.

This castle has been originally a square, sixty
feet on’each side, the walls about twelve feet in thick-)
nefs, with small windows, in the common stile of,
building in thosedays. Itis now in rubbilh, excepta
small part of the west wall, which was lately repair-
ed, so as to keep it from falling, at the expence of
the neighbouring gentlemen, who withed to preserve
it on account of its picturesque appearance, which is
seen from afar. The site of this building is marked,
onthe plan at H; the part that is standing is fhaded

“468 antiquities in Scotland. Aug: 15;
‘black. There is no tradition of the time when ei-
‘ther this structure, or the vitrified walls, were erec«
‘ted; but it is sufficiently apparent that ‘the lat-
ter must have been of a date much prior to the for-
mer, and built by a nation in a very different state cf
civil polity ; for, at the latter period, the lord of the
domain having found, we may suppose, the old vi-
trified fortification inadequate to the purpose of de-
fence, or inapplicable to the state of his private af-
fairs, has purposely: demolithed them, and, with their
ruins, erected his own. habitation. This is evident
from the fragments of the vitrified walls and scorch-.
ed stones, which are every where discoverable in the
ruins of the stone-and lime building.

’ This circumstance, in‘my opinion, deserves to be
particularly attended to, as it serves ‘to throw some
‘light upon the ancient state of our civil polity, and
‘its revolutions, where more distinct records are
wanting. Inthe infancy of society, perhaps in all
ations, no man -afsumed any other authority over
others than what was voluntarily yielded on ac-
count of his age, experience, or superior abilities,
whether mental~or corporal. But man could hardly
be placed in society before he would discover that,
‘without the afsistance of his fellows, he was a
‘weak defencelefs animal; so.that, although each
might live independent of another while at peace,
when any danger threatened they would find the ne-
-cefsity of uniting together for mutual defence, and
-éf submitting, for the time, to be directed’by the wis-
dom of some man in whom they in. general placed

vonfidence. In'this state of society it would exceed the
' |

1792 antiquities in Scotland. 209
power of any individual to render. his own place of
residence sufficiently strong to resist the attacks of
any invading power ; and, therefore, it would become.
the interest of the whole-community to, fortify, in
the best fafhion they could,. some places: of strength
to which the whole community could retire for
safety, intimes-of .danger.. So long. .as they con-
tinued. to-- migrate from onexregion. to-another, im
hordes, this place. of strength~would be only a tem .
porary fortification, of the nature of acamp ; and this:
seems to have. beea the stage to which the,Germans.
had arrived in the time of Tacitus., But in a more
barren country, where grain could only be: raised:
with. ease .on, those .spots which had .been. already:
cultivated, and in a state of society somewhat. .more
advanced in civilization,..when some .idea.of private
property. began.to take place, the man. who, at a.
great:deal.of trouble, -had <cleared.a small spot for,
himself, and.erected an. habitation that could stand
for more than one season, would look.out for a place.
of strength not far from himself, to which he could:
retire occasionally in cases of danget,. which he would ‘
fortify ina durable. and substantial. manner.., In this; |
stage of:society, have, in all.prabability, these vitri-:
fied fortifications -been reared, which. served, not as- |
a place of.continued residence to. any one, but mere-:
ly as a place of temporary retreat, when any .na- -
tional danger threatened which individuals. were not.»
able to repel...

But when, at-'an after period, honours and fiefs; .
became hereditary, when particular families waxed,.
great in power, and each chieftan, at.the head of his;
clan, became a sort of petty sovereign in his own dis~,

VOL, x. DD +

216 antiquities in Scotland. Aug. 15:
trict, and afsumed:to himself the charge of ‘pyotec-
ing his vafsals, and avenging their quarrels, he found
¥t necefsary to have a fixed habitation, proportioned
to his own dignity, in which he could reside at all
times himself in safety, and to which some of his
vafsals might occasionally repair for fhelter. The
open fortifications; which.could only ‘be defended by
a great number of men perpetually upon their
guard, were, in that state of perpetual alarm, by no
means adapted to his wants, and therefore he had
recourse to smaller fortifications of another kind,
which, by the strength of their walls and gates, were
not liable to be suddenly surprised, even when de-
fended by. afew only. This gave rise to those nu-
merous strong holds, of the nature of the stone and
lime tower now in question, which superseded the
use of :the old vitrified-‘open forts, which -were then
either neglected, and suffered to fall to ruin of them-
selves, or wete’pulled to pieces, -like that of Dun-o-
deer, to afford ‘materials for a dwelling better suited
to the wants of the owner.

From this cause the ruins of the vitrified walls on
the top of this hill, afsume a very different appear-
ance from the others-already mentioned. Where the
vitrified matter has been so ill compacted, as to ad-
mit of being broken into small pieces, they have
been carried away, and the walls razed to the very
foundation; but where these vitrified mafses were
too firmly united to admit of being easily broken in-
to smal] pieces, they have been suffered to remain in
their place, where they still exhibit to the eye of
the curious traveller, venerable remains of ancient
art, now mistaken by the carelefs for the operations

L792 antiquities in Scotland. 211
of nature, some of which afsume a beautiful and pic-
turesque appearance, as may be perceived by the faint

SNIAYy

2

Fa PIIYLIA dO

‘SyrnsNaqavaep Nt ‘YT TI-O-NAC 2¥ STI

representation annexed, which has been perforated by’
a hole like a natural rock,

ste : on Voltaire. : Aug. 05.
| These ruins are indeed the firmest méfses of the
kind I have met with. Here, however, as-was-to be
expected, we in vain look for the large backing of
loose stones, to be found in all the other buildings of
“this kind thac I have seen: they have been carried
away to the stone and lime tower, «and nething re-
mains but pieces of the vitrified rock, if I may ven-
ture that exprefsion, stripped entirely naked, rising
up in irregular mafses round the hill: yet even here
- some-stones are found with’one end firmly «immersed
in the vitrified matter, while the-other end projects
considerably beyond it, and is only browned by the
heat. This circumstance sufficiently marks that
these walls must have been built after. the. same ge-
_neral plan. with others of this clafs.
To be continued.

RT RE en rn en en ee
ON VOLTAIRE.

Tuey say-that if Voltaire were alive he would be
of the aristocratic party, because *that he ‘loved to
sign himself» count of Ferney; and’ though incef-
santly reviling courts, he was still. courtier. His
writings are, however, an ‘appeal to the revolution
which has been brought about, and which -he had
foretold. A good pamphlet might-be made of all his
-queries.and advices:on the reformation of abuses in
the laws, in the-government, in the administration of
justice,in the magistracy, in the finance, in the clergy
and church. It is he-who has exalted the ‘noblenefs
of agriculture, and of consequence débased the truly
low nobility of knight-errantry, since it was sloth
eruthed it from the height of its ruined towers.

rig on Voltaire. 2¥40

There is a small pamphlet extracted from his
works, which bears a great’ resemblance:to the pam-
phleis of the late Jursetal. The ‘title of >this pam-
_phlet‘is, :¢ Laws, civil -and -ecclesiastical.’

‘Inthe papers of a certain lawyer are found these
notes, which, perhaps, merit some examination, That
no ecélesiastical law fhall ever have effect, except”
it fhall have received-an -exprefs -sanctionfrom go-
vernment. It was by adhering to these principles:
that Athens and Rome avoided all religious disputes.

‘“« These disputes belong to nations. uncivilized, or ’
_become'so.

-* That the magistracy alone fhould have it in their
‘hands’ te permit, or prohibit labour, during holidays, *
‘because -it belongs not:to a priest-to prohibit a man -

from cultivating the-fields.

‘* Phat every thing respecting marriage fhould:
depend-solely-on‘the magistracy, and that the priests
thould:- confine themselves. to-the ‘solemn function of
benediction.

“That money given out at interest fhould be
purely the object of «the civil lw, fae that it>
alee presides over commerce.

~** That ecclesiastics fhould ‘in every -case-be sub-
jected to government, because they are subjects of“
the state. He would have said at present, because ©
they are subject to the law.

*« That they never -thould ‘have the disgraceful
impertinence of paying to a foreign priest, the first |

revenues of those lands which have been consigned ©
‘by citizens to a priest, a fellow citizen.

214 on Voltaire. Ag 50

«¢ That no priest fheuld ever have it in his power
to deprive a citizen of the least prerogative, under
pretext ‘that ‘this citizen is a sinner, because that the
priest, a sinner himself, onght to pray for sinners, not
judge ‘them. j

«That the magistrates, the labourers, and the,
priests, fhould pay an equal fhare of the burdens of
the state, because that they all belong equally to the
state. ; E mbes ;
*¢ That there fhould be every where the, same,
“weight, measure, and custom.

“That the punifhment of criminals fhould be’
serviceable. Ai man ‘hanged is good. for nothing,
while a man that is condemned to the public works, '
still serves his-country, and is a living lefson.

‘¢ That every law fhould be clear, uniform, and
precisé. To interpret it is generally to.corrupt it.

«« That nothing fhould be infamous but vice.’

‘¢ That the imposts fhould. always be pzoportion-
ally. oi

‘“ That the law fhould: never be in-epposition to
custom, becamse if the customs are good, the law
signifies nothing.”

This ‘small pamphlet presents us with a great
number of reformations besides ; and which properly”
are so. One'or two sittings of.the national afsem-
bly would suffice to ratify them. It is a good:thing,
that the sittings, in an instant, transform: into laws,
hose eternal truths which our fathers-had lost, and’
their sons have restored. We have opened their eyes. -
People there are who with to deprive us of them,’
‘but to this we never will agree.

1792. on Ovid's epistles. 215

Sir, To the Editor of the Bee.

Tue nine books of poetical epistles which Ovid composed
during the seven first years of his melancholy exile, are
well observed by Mr Gibbon to pofsefs, besides the merit
of elegance, a double value.

“ They exhibit a picture of the human mind (writes he,)
under very singular circumstances, and they contain many
curious observations which no Roman except Ovid could
have an opportunity of making *.”

I have ‘frequently regretted, that no gentleman who
united the poet'and the scholar in one character, has ap-
peared to give us at once (in Englifh verse,) the softnefs
and elegance of ‘the original, and to elucidate the text
with topographical and mora] remarks.

With respect to the poetical part of such an undertaking, I
am persuaded that no one individual fhould ever think of com-
pafsing above afew of those epistles, such as have often attrac-
ted his attention and engaged his poetical fancy ; and that, af-
ter a select number were written in this manner, by various
hands, and con amore, that the book fhould be publithed with
its subsidiary elucidations, that these isolated epistles fhould
make their first appearance in literary miscellanies, and thus
be subjected to the criticism and correction of the public.

I beg leave to offer you a hazardous attempt of mine
to promote such a plan by a free translation of that beau-
tiful epistle in the first book of his Pontics, which is ad-
drefsed to his wife. 1 will not disgrace myself by decry-
ing the merit of what I offer to the public, but content
myself with saying that I hope it will at least be more ac-
ceptable to the lovers of poetry than such sing song origi- .

‘mals, as are ungilded by the bright rays of a genuine A-
pollo, or unfraught with a strong ardent spirit of invention.
I am, Sir, your constant reader, PuILorvugsis.
* Gibbon, vol. iii. p. 121, note.

POETRY. ‘
rare eee EO FORTE ERE Se eae See Se Se ee ees Sy

OVID’S EPISTLE TO HIS WIFE. FROM PONTUS;~
BOOK’, EPYSTLE iv. -

Time’s iron hand ploughs furrows down my face, -
The frost of age hath silver’d o'er my brows
Sorrow hath robb’d-me-of each manly grace,
And sports which lately pleas’d me, please net now.

Did you but see me thus to care consign’dy
Did you but mark each ruinous decay,
Your Ovid scarcely could you call to’ mind, ‘»
His well known form no semblance. would betray.

Time, itis true, the brightest blofsom'sears,:

But toil and grief have turn’d these temples hoar 3
For by my. troubles did you count my years,
» Not Pylian Nestor could have number’d more.:

‘Yon ox,—though late the sturdiest of his breed -
The constant labour of the field impairs 5:

And where succefsive harvests quick succeed,
E’en earth grows weak beneath the load fhe bears.

The fleetest steed that e’er the stadium crofs’d, -
Must falter, if to ev’ry contest driv’n;-
The bulkiest vefse] ocean ever tost,
) Not ay can bear the storms of angry heav’n, -

Thus lengthen’d woes, in sad succefsion join’dy -
Long, ere his date, have turn’d your lover gray
Rest chears the body, solaces the mind,
But toil unceasing wears them both away.

See how the son of ABson’s growing fame,
To distant ages brighter seems to shine;
But far inferior was his plausive claim,
His boasted toils far lefs severe than mine.

Pelias indeed to Pontus made him flee,

Hoping himself to wear Thefsalia’s crown * =
But Czsar’s mightier anger exiles me,

Czsar, before whose nod a woild bows down!

Long was my voyage, distant was my porty
A swifter pafsage youthful glory sped;
The chiefs of Greece to AXson’s heir resort,
While all my friends in base desertion fled.

[ ® A liberty is here taken with the text, but not with the story?

F792.

poctry.
A statelier fhip than his its course ne’er run,
In a frail bark I brav’d the tofsing tide ;
No pilot Typhis.—no Agenor’s son,
To teach me where to steer, or what avoid.

-Juno and Pallas made his freight their care,
No tutelary pow’rs my track pursue 5

By love’s sly arts he foil’d each deadly snare,
Would that in these I had not aided too!

Safe he return’d;—more hard, dear wife! my fate;
Condemn’d to perifh on a en fhore ;

To bear great Czsar’s unrelenting hate,
And such fierce wrath as Jason ill had bore.

I left thee young,—but fancy, long since, drew
Thy face, by my misfortunes, cloth’d in years;

O ! would to heav’n that I this change could yiew,
Kifs thy pale cheek, and mingle tears with tears.

That these fond arms thy slender form could prefs,
(Now grown more slender with its griefs for me)

While all my soul pour’d forth its past distrefs,
And drank the kindred tale of woe from thee!

Then would we offer at each grateful dawn,
An incense worthy of our royal sire!
O bright Aurora! speed that happy morn,
And calm stern Czsar’s too insatiateiree = TT. P.

a

‘TO HOPE.
For the Bee.

Sparx of th’ etherial fire, enchanting maid,
Without thee none but conscience inly torn ;

Still let thy pow’r be felt, and still display’d,
Where the dark vapour feels the flow’r of morn.

Friend of the friendlefs, comforter in woe,
Guide of the wand’rer, and the captive’s life ;
Where slav’ry decks with care the loaden’d brow,
And tyrants spurn when suppliants afk relief.

Point to the track from which so late I swerv’d,
Conduct me to the peaceful realms of blifs ;

Teach me to hope for blefsings still reserv’d,
And still to hope for life and happinefs.

Thy sacred beam enlivens infant faith
Friend of the gasping ising be mine till death, Q. D, C,
VOL, X, ¢ i

214 -

218 poetry. Aug. 15

4 bas Utena’ «

Sir, To the Editor of the Bee.
Ir the following song tend not to depreciate the dignity of your Mie:
tellany, by inserting it you woutd much oblige Vix.

THE LASS OF MARTINDALE.

Ar Martindale, a village gay,
A damsel deigns to dwell;
Her looks are like a'summer’s day,
Her charms no tongue can tell :
‘Whene’er I meet her on my ways
I tell my am’rous tale 5
~ Then heave a sigh, or softly say
Sweet maid ef Martindale!
Sweet maid of Martindale!
Sweet maid of Martindale !
Then heave a sigh, or softly say
Sweet maid of Martindale!

This nymph hath numbers in her traia,
‘From Hodge up to the *squire ;

A conquest makes of ev’ry swain,
All gaze.and all admire:

Then where’s the hope, alas! for mé,

» That I thould e’er prevail ;

Yet while I breathe I'll think of thee,

Sweet maid of Martindale!
Sweet maid of Martindale, &c.

‘Should fate propitious be my lot,
' To call this charmer mine,
I'd dwell content in lowly Coty
And pompous thoughts resign;
But if fhe scorns each heart-felt sigh,
And leaves me to bewail;
‘For thee, my Fair! for thee I'll die,
‘Sweet maid of Martindale!
Sweet maid of Martindale,
Sweet maid of Martindale!
For thee, my Fair, for thee I’1l die,
Sweet maid of Martindale }

ee

AN EPIGRAM.
‘ ‘ For the Bee
Brine afk’d why in Scotland they’ve paper for gold,
eye bap &g
A satirical jade who let nothing escape her,
Made an answer at once both convincing and bold,
Where there’s plenty of rags, there is always much paper,

1792 Selico, a tale. _ ety

-SELICO, A TALE.

Continued from p. 189 and concluded.

Srorrep by the first guards, he demanded to be con-
ducted to the king ;—his name and purpose is announced,
and he is presented to the monarch. The king of Da-
homai, covered with gold and ‘precious: stones, is half re-
clined upon a sopha-of scarlet and gold, his shead leaning.
on the breast of one of his favourites, clothed with petti-
enats of brocade, and naked from the waist upwards.
‘Fhe ministers, nobles, and officers, very richly drest, were
prostrated at twenty steps from him; the bravest were-
distinguifhed by a collar of human teeth, each of which
was a mark ofa victory. Many women, with firelocks on
their fhoulders, guarded the doors of the apartment:
large vases of gold containing palm: wine, brandy, and:
strong liquors, were placed indiseriminately, at a little di-
stance from the king, and the floor was paved with the-
fkulls of his enemies.

“ Sovereign of the world! said’ Teloné, bowing: his fore-
head to the ground, I come, according to thy sacred orders,.
to deliver into thy hands.” He could say no more, his
‘yoice faultered, the king questioned him, but he could not:
answer. Selico. then spoke: ‘king of Dahomai, you see
before you the criminal who, instigated by a fatal pafsion,,
penetrated last. night into your seraytio. He wha. holds,
me bound, was so long my confidential friend; that I in--

trusted him with my secret; zealous to serve thee, he
has betrayed his friend. He surprised me when. sleeping,.
bound me, and brings me here to demand thy promised re-.
compence, give it him, for the wretch has well earned it.”’
The king, without. deigning to answer him, makes a sign:

220 Selico, a tale. ~ Aug. b5-
to one of his ministers, who siezes the culprit, delivers him
to the armed women ; and counts out to Teloné the four
hundred ounces of gold. He, loaded, with this gold,
whose touch is dreadful to him, hastens to buy provisions,
and then rufhes out of the city in a hurry to carry them
xo his mother.

Already, by orders from the monarch, they had beate
the preparations for the terrible execution, with which a
dultery with the king’s wives was punifhed in Juida. Two
wide ditches are dug at a fhort distance from each other. In
that destined for the guilty wife the criminal is fastened
toa stake, and all the ladies of the seraglio, drefsed in
their best apparel, carrying large vases of boiling water,
march to the sound of drums and flutes, and pour this
water upon her head until the expires. In the other ditch
there is a pile of wood, above which is an iron bar sup-
ported by two stakes, to this bar the other criminal is
tied, and when, the pile is lighted, the extremity of the
flames do but touch him, and he perifhes by length of tor-
ture. The square was’ full of spectators. The whole
army under arms formed a square battalion of firelocks and
darts. The priests, in their drefses. of ceremony, were:
waiting to lay their hands on the victims and devote them
to death. The prisoners. came from opposite quartexs
guarded by women, Selico, calm and, resigned, marched
with an erect countenance aud firm step. Having come to
the fatal spot, an involuntary movement made him turn
his eyes to view 1#; companion in misery ;—what is his
surprise > what is his grief, to see Berifsa!! He screams out
and attempts to fly to her, but his executioners prevent
him. Indignation directly takes pofsefsion of him;--‘‘ wretch!
says he to himself, during the time when. I was bewail-
‘ing her lofs, and secking death in order to follow her, the
was one of those vile mistrefses that dispute the heart ofa
tyrant! Not content with having betrayed her love, fhe.

|

1792. Seli¢o, a tale. 223
was faithlefs to her master! {he deserved the name of adul-
trefs, and the chastisement with which they are punithed.
O my dearest mother! it is for you alone I die! it is you
alone that I with to think of !”? At the same instant the un-
fortunate Berifsa had discerned Selico, fhe cries out, and
calls the priests to her, and declares that the young man
at the stake is not the person who broke into the serag-
4io,—fthe confirms this by all the most redoubted oaths.
The priests are alarmed,—stop the execution,—run to inform
the king what had happened, who comes in person to the
great square. Anger and indignation are strongly painted on
the face of the monarch, as he approaches Berifsa. ‘Slave !”
says he wi-h a tremendous voice, “ thou who disdained the
love of thy master, thou whom I wifhed to raise to the dig-
nity of my first wife, and whom I suffered to live in spite
of your refusals, what is thy object in denying the crime of
thy accomplice? Dost thou with to save him? If he is
not thy lover, name him then guilty girl,—point him out
to my justice, and I will immediately deliver the innocent.”
* King of Dahomai,’ replied Berifsa, ‘ who was then tied
to the stake, I could not accept of thy heart; mine was no
longer in my pofsefsion, and I was not afraid to tell thee
so. Dost thou imagine that her who would not tella
falsehood to fhare a throne, could be capable of it at the
moment fhe is going to expire? No; I have owned
every thing, I will repeat all I know. A man pene-
trated last night into. my apartment ; he anly quitted me
at day break, but that prisoner is not the man. Thou
afketh me to name him ;—neither. my duty nor my will
‘can consent to do so.. I know nothing can save me, and
I only with to prolong these terrible moments to hinder
- you from committing a crime. .I swear again, king of
Dahomai,.that the blood of this innocent man will. fall on
thine own head, Let> him be released, and let me suffes,

22% Sehico, a tale. Aug. 5.
that is al] I request.” The king was struck with the tone
and manner with which Berifsa had pronounced these last
words ;—he remained musing, holding down his head ; and
was astonifhed himself at his own secret repugnance, for
once, to. fhed blood. But recollecting that this negro.
had accused himself as being guilty, and fancying that Be-
rifsa’s eagernefs to save him, was from her love to him, all
his rage returned; he makes a sign to the executioner,
who immediately sets fire to the pile; the women begin
. their procefsion with theie vases of boiling water, when
an old man, quite out of breath, and covered with blood
and wounds, pufhes through the crowd, and throws him-
self at the king’s feet. “ Stop!” cried he, “stop! it is lwho
am the guilty person,—it was I who scaled the walls of
thy seraglio to carry ‘off my daughter. I was formerly
the priest of the deity who was worfhipped on this spot ;—
my daughter was torn from my arms, and dragged to thy
palace; ever since I have constantly watched to see her.
This last night I got into her chamber,—fhe in vain at-
tempted to follow me,—thy guards saw her, and I escaped
amidst fhowers of arrows of which you see here the marks.
I come. to give: myself up as a victim to you,—to expire
with her for whom alone I withed to live.” He had not
finished, when the king ordered the two prisoners to be
unbound and brought before him. He; interrogated Seli-
co,—he was desirous to know what motive could be power-
ful enough to. make him. wifh for so cruel a punifhment..
Selico, whose heart beat with joy to find that his Berifsa
‘had not been faithlefs.to him, was not afraid to inform the
monarch of every particular. He related his misfortunes,
the indigence of his mother, and the resolution he had
‘taken to gain the goo ounces for her. _Berifsa and her-fa-.
ther listened. in. fhedding tears of admiration. ‘he chiefs,
the soldiers, and the people, were affected; the king felt.

2792. anecdote. 223
tears run down his:cheeks for the first time; such is the
force of virtue that even barbarians adore it.

The king, after Selico had finifhed, stretched forth his
hand, and raised him up, then turning ‘to the European
merchants, whom this sight had brought there, “‘:tell me,”
says he,“ you whom wisdom, .and long experience have
taught the nicest valuation of aman, how much is Selico

worth?” Themerchants blufhed at this question; but -

ayoung Frenchmen, bolder than the rest, cried out, ten
thousand crowns of gold. Let them be given directly to Be-
rifsa, replied the king, and with this sun» ive fhall not pur-
chase, but marry Selico. After this order, v hich was imme-
diately executed, the king retired, surprised at feeling a
sensation of joy which he had never before experienced.
Faculho this same day gave his daughter to Selico. ‘The
-next day they all three set out with their treasure, for the
hut of Darina, who almost expired with joy, as well as
his brothers, at ‘the sight of them. This virtuous family
‘were never again separated,—enjoyed their riches, —and in
a barbarous country, were, for a long time, the brightest
example under heaven, namely, happinefs and opulence
acquired by virtue.

TE ;
ANECDOTE.

Some time since, a young man, with two of his compani-
ons, went to Weaver’s tavern, in Philadelphia, and ordered
a supper to be prepared. He sent his ‘companions about
three miles on the other side of the Connestogoe, to bring
jn a girl who had promised to be ready to marry him that
night. The young fellows returned, and informed the
groom, that the girl said “ fhe had quite forgot, and that
it was then too late.” The groom (who in the mean
‘time had obtained the licence) was very much enraged at

224 "tb correspondents. dug. 15.
the disappointment ; but, upon recollecting that he had an-
other string to his bow, desired the young fellows to wait
a little while, and swearing he would not go home with-
out a wife, he rode about six miles and brought in his o-
ther sweetheart ; they went to the minister, who, upon
reading the licence, told the-groom that the name in the
licence was not the same as that of the girl, and that
there must be some mistake. ‘ I know that well enough,
says the groom; there is no mistake; this ts not the same
girl neither.” The parson, upon hearingthe story, had the
name altered, they were married, returned to the tavern,
and eat of the.supper that had been prepared for the wo-
man that made default.

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

THE query by a constant reader, fhall have a place as soon as pofsible.

The affecting verses by E/wira are received, and fhall have a place with
the first conve: ‘¢ncy.

The communication by H. R. has been accidentally too long overlook-
ed. The verses, consider ng the situation of the composer, are surprising.
The greatest fault is their length; we will try to find room for them.

Philclogus th-ll have a pl+ce in his turn,

The fragment by D. P. R. S. is received and fhall be admitted.

The Editor is much obliged to Cosmogony Secundus ; his communication.

thal! be attended to.

The Tutor is received. The attempt is not without merit ; but it
bears so near a resemblance to a noted story, and is so much inferior to
that in point of composition, that the parallel, which almost every reader
must involuntarily make, would prove disadvantageous to the writer.
Perhaps at a future period, with a little more originality, he may succeed
better.

The communication by Phila Moris is too long, and in other respects
not suitable for the Bee. Perhaps time and experience may enable this
Writer also to do betier... But he bas many steps to advance before he
could, with propriety, appear in public, in good company.

If we thought the country school-master would be effectually attended
to, his. paper fhould be admitted. But as this is not to be expected,
and as it could prove little interesting to most of our readers, we beg leave
to decline inserting it.
°*The-remarks on Young’s tour in France, by an eld correspondent, are
thankfully received, and fhall be duly adverted to, As also the hints by
Biograpbicus,
>The hints by Rordo fhall also be attended to; and if the subject be not
soon treated by some correspondent, some remarks upon it fhall be offered
by the Editor.

ee ee

THE BEE,

OR

LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER,

FOR

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 22, 1792.

RS SS, CE |

TIMOLEON’s THIRD LETTER.
To the people of Great Britain,

TuosE who have wifhed to frustrate the views of
“* the society of the friends of the people,”’ seem to
have rested their hopes of succefs upon misrepresen-
tation alone. With this intent they have held us up
to public view as enemies to all distinctions of rank,
and honorary dignities: they have said we wifhed to’
abclith all orders of nobility, and have represented us
as turning into ridicule the notion of having a set of he-
reditary legislators. Nothing can be more calumni-
ous than such allegations. We are fully aware of
the benefits that a well ordered community may de-
rive from distinctions of rank, and honorary digni-
ties ; and it is so far from being in our mind to des-
troy these, that our best endeavours fhall ever be
exerted to preserve them. As to hereditary legisla-
tors, we are too wellread in the constitutional histo-
ty of Britain, and have too great regpect for the
fundamental principles of that constitution, not
VOL. X. FF t

226 on the constitution. Aug. 22.
to venerate that branch of our legislature, as that
part of it which approaches the nearest to its origi-
nal. We cannot forget that when the foundations of
this constitution were laid, every free-man in the
state, was, by birth, an undoubted legislator for the
country. Hereditary legislation is, therefore, so far
from being an innovation ia our constitution, that it
may be considered as the oldest, and the most un-
doubted fundamental part of it; and that part to which
it owes its permanence and stability. When, in-
deed, a great majority of these hereditary legisla-
tors found it convenient, from a change of circum-
stances, voluntarily to relinquifh their privilege of
legislating,.a new mode of supplying that deficiency,
and of guarding against the power of a domineering
aristocracy, became necefsary to be adopted. It was
this arrangement, which went to compel the people
of smaller property, much against their wills indeed,
still to retain a fhare in the legislature, that at length
produced that mixed form of government we now
‘enjoy, which pofsefses the advantages of all the forms
of government adopted by the ancients, without the
inconyveniencies to which these were severally sub-
jected. We venerate this system, and we would al-
most adore the wisdom that formed it, could we flatter
ourselves with the idea that chance had not, at the be-
ginning, had a considerable fhare in the formation of
it. Without entering into this discufsion, our ob-
“ject is, by a retrospective view, to examine that sys-
tem, and to correct such abuses, as by imperceptible
degrees have begun to prevail, and, acquiting strength
by a.continuation of habit, threaten at length, if not

1792. _ on the constitution. 229
adverted to, gradually to overturn that goodly fabric
we so much admire. Though it. now appeareth to
be strong, ‘“‘and the height thereof reacheth unto
heaven, and the sight thereof to. the end of all the
earth ;” yet if its basis be not firm, the foundation be-
gins to give way,.and the fabric itself must ultimately
fall to the ground, however beautiful the superstruc-
ture may appear.. Without, therefore, trenching: so:
near as to be in danger of undermining it, orsheed-
lefsly pulling out any of those important: pegs: on:
which it. now. materially rests, our aimis, merely to:
take a narrow and circumspect.view. of these foun-.
dations; to mark those parts that are evidently
decayed, and mouldering to dust; and to: have these
repaired.in: the best manner that the situation of
things will'admit of.. These are the objects: we have
in view ; and.if we fhall act up to these principlés,
who can deny that we fhall be well entitled to the
name we have. afsumed to ourselves, that of ‘ the.
friends of the people ! a

We are sufficiently- aware of the delicacy of the:
undertaking in which we. are engaged; and there-
fore we have resolved to proceed with the utmost
caution.. Weknow. that, to external view, a particu-.
lar part may appear rotten and decayed, , which is: still.
souad and entire within ;. and that if these. parts were
hastily, removed,. the. whole might: tumble: down:
at once, and crufh. not only ourselves, but many
others. in the ruins. We know also, that if we
were to attempt to lay open all the sores at:
once, the sound parts, by being left destitute of
support on several. sides, at the same time, would
be in in the most dangerous state. To avoid’ these:

{

228 on the constitution. Aug, 2d.
rifks, which every sensible person who reflects upon
the subject, must dread, it is our intention never to
remove the smallest particle of matter that is not
evidently rotten and corrupted ; and never to attempt
to go farther than that corruption has already evi-
dently penetrated. Even in this work, thus cauti-
ously conducted, we intend to proceed only by piece-
meal, always repairing one defect before another be
opened up. How different is this conduct from that
which the enemies of this society have been pleased
to represent it! But while these persons profit by
the corruptions of which we complain, is it a wonder
they fhould endeavour to prejudice the public against
those who aim at removing that rottennefs, they so
carefully endeavour to conceal ?

No part of our conduct has called down such point-.
ed animadversion, as that which respects the taking»
the opinion of the people at large before we proceed.
And, indeed, had it been our intention to call toge-
ther mobs of the lowest clafses. of the people, and to.
instigate them to madnefs, by alarming their fears,
and inducing them by. tumult and violence, to call’
out for alterations in government, the nature and.
consequences. of which they are incapable of know-
ing, we fhould justly have deserved all that oppro-
brium they have crkeevountees throw upon us =
but these intentions we utterly. disclaim. We are
aware that certain persons in this country, whose
real object. we pretend not to judge of, have difsemi-
nated writings which may, without much violence
of interpretation, be supposed to be intended to ope=
tate in this manner; and as the authors of these

rygn on the constitution. 229:
writings offer them to the public, wader the specious
idea of leading to a reform of national governments,
our enemies have endeavoured to confound us with
them. But as justly might they try to depreciate
those who, with a pure heart and sound undérstand-
ing, venerate the holy religion we profefs, because
some wild fanatics have’ perverted that religion to.
the worst of purposes, as to endeavour by this means.
to vilify us. We have already publicly declared
ourselves inimical to that kind of reform; and no=
thing but sinister views could induce any one to put
tis in the same clafs with these persons. °So far are
we from wifhing to encourage the pepulace to endea=
vour to force a reform by violence, that we dare not
venture of ourselves, even after mature study on our
part, to propose remedies for what appears to be evi-
dently wrong. Before we do this, we with to
have the united judgement of all the sensible part of
the nation, that we may thus guard against adopting
alterations which may ultimately prove hurtful, in-
stead of being beneficial. In the course of our deep
investigations on this subject, we have so frequently
seen this happen to others, that: it would have been
inconsistent with our principles not to take the be- .
nefit of every afsistance in our power before we ven~
tured to adopt any “Measure detinitively. We can
indeed of ourselves, easily perceive abuses ; but how
to correct these abuses effectually, without giving

tise to others that may perhaps be worse, réquires

an attention to so'many particulars, at once, that no-
individual can ever hope to doit perfectly ; but which,
by many temperate discufsions, may be gradually de-

230 0~CO _ on the constitution. Aug. 2%:
veloped. Can any thing be more absurd than to
accuse of precipitancy those who wifh to proceed
with such cautious circumspection? =

We have been represented as withing to proceed
with a reform in the same manner as has happened
in France ; and: as wishing to. establith in this. coun-
try a similar form of.government, if government it
ean be called, as that which there prevails. Had
this been our intention, our conduct: must have been
very different from that which we have adopted :—we
fhould, in that case, have proceeded’ with all pofsible
precipitancy, that while the furor for innovation,
which we know prevailed among the lefs considerate
part of the community, was at its full height, we
might have availed ourselves of it. So far, however,
was this. from being our intention, that we studious-
ly delayed, bringing forward any motion till.a future
day, before which time,. we doubt not, such events
will have taken: place.as. to moderate the fervour of
that patriotic enthusiasm, which hath seized so great
@ proportion of the generous: and well-meaning,
though ill-informed. parts of the community.. It is
our. decided opinion,. that the constitution ofour go-
vernment will. acquire much. stability from the revo-' |
lution. in. France ; not, by. adopting the plans that
nation has pursued, but by. # tending to the. conse»
quences’ of these. innovations.

ven already, many
men who six months ago could see nothing defective
in that. constitution, begin to. think that many things
might have been more happily. contrived. Those
who thought that the mode of electing members. of
the legislative afsembly was perfectly unexception-

1792 ' on the constitution. 23%
-@ble, and calculated to guard against every kind of
corruption, begin to perceive that there may be some
deficiencies. The difficulty that was fouid to induce
the voters tn Paris to come forward, even when it
had the allurement of novelty to recommend rt, has
fhowed them that there, as well as every where
else, ‘* what is'every body’s businefs is deemed the
businefs of nobody,” which excites a well grounded
fear that this mode of election may, in time, degene-
rate into a mere farce, where the great body of those
who havea right to vote will disregard that right ; and
where of course the elections will come to be carried
by a private juato, who will make it their businefs
to avail themselves of the negligence of -others.
When this evil stares them in the face, and when
they try to devise a mode of correcting it, they be-
gin to perceive that it will be even a more difficult
tafk than that of determining a Westminster election
by scrutiny. Those who thought that a House of
Peers was a wen in our constitution, which the French
had happily cut off, begin already to suspect that
virtue is not exclusively confined to the poorer er-
ders of the community, and that wisdom is not pecu-
iarly appropriated to any one clafs of people. They
begin to advert to. t they have often heard be-
fore, that a man ie much property to lose, has
a stronger inducement to support a government that
secures the property of every individual, than one who
has little at stake; and that of course a body of weal-
thy men, may be expected to’be at least, more cau.
tious legislators, than men of small fortunes. They
how see clearly that the French constitution is super-

’
\

232 on the constitution. Jug. 22.
latively defective in having devised no check for ne-.
cefsarily retarding the precipitancy of judgement in
enacting laws on the moment, without a pofsibility of
having the facts on which they proceeded duly constitu-
ted. This, if unaltered, would soon introduce a Species
of despotism, perhaps more to be dreaded than that of
the un|imited power of any individual. They begin,
therefore, tosee the wisdom of our forefathers, who
not only prescribed forms of procedure in parliament,
well calculated to prevent a rafh judgement from
being hastily adopted at any time; but which, by
necefsarily requiring every law to pafs deliberately
through two different afsemblies, gives time, not only
for reflection to the legislators themselves, but for
representations from without, that may set them right
as to ill understood facts, and lead their minds to
form a proper judgement. These particulars, and
many more, have already occurred to almost every
thinking mind. There are others of equal impor.
tance respecting the influence of the doctrine of the
rights of man on the subordination of the army ; the
steady administration of government; and the
security of property and personal freedom, which
the events that are now daily occurring in that
distracted country are powerfully illustrating. To
the influence of these illustrations we trust for
the correcting of many erroneous doctrines res~
pecting government, that have been difseminated in
this country by the admirers of the French revolu-
tion. With these ideas strongly imprefsed on our
minds, let me afk, if we had seriously wifhed to pro-
pagate these doctrines ourselves, or to avail our-

1792 on the constitution. 233
selves of the temporary phrenzy of those who do, we
would have put off the preposition of our intended
reform toa distant day ?. Those who think thus must
suppose us destitute of common sense indeed.

It thus appears that those who, profiting by the abu-
ses of government, and therefore dreading any kind of
reform, knowing at the same time the upright prin-.
ciples of ‘ the society of the friends of the people,’’.
have found no other mode of defence, so likely to suc-
ceed, as that of calumny and misrepresentation.
Duplicity is so natural to some people themselves,
that they could scarcely oppose even a faulty pro-
position with a candid opennefs of conduct; but
where they see nothing they can fairly lay hold of,
in opposing a reasonable demand, there seems to be
a sort of excuse for them being driven to the very
objectionable mode of defence. I now reprobate..
This, however, will not induce the respectable body,
of which I have the honour to be a member, to
adopt a similar conduct. We neither court popula-.
rity by giving our support to culpable doctrines,
which may be the favourites of the day ; nor decline
to probe with freedom the defects of a constitution
we venerate. Sensible that government is no long-
er of use than while it tends to preserve, public tran-
quillity, to encourage industry, and to protect the
person and property of every individual alike from
the power of the king, of an aristocracy, or a mob,
we fhall as steadily oppose every innovation that
does not obviously tend to, promote these objects, as
we fhall zealously promote the reform of every abuse

VOLS X. GG +

234 on taste in architecture. Mug. 216)
that has a necefsary influence in abating the public
prosperity and happinefs of the people.

These are, I am satisfied, the sentiments of a great
majority of the members of our society; but they
are here offered only as the private sentiments of

London, t

Suly 12. 1792. TimoLeon.

ON TASTE IN ARCHITECTURE.
Sir, To the Editor of the Bee.

Ty the prospectus of your valuable miscellany (which
may be considered as the magna charta of your sub-
scribers,) you have judiciously observed, that “ to
polith the manners and humanize the heart, are the
first steps required in 2 attempt to inspire a taste
for literary -excellence, and to excite exertions for
attaining the highest perfection in arts ;” and as
some accomplithed gentlemen of France and Italy,
who have lately visited Britain, have afsured me,
that our island has not yet reached the summit of
perfection in taste and elegance, I beg leave, with
difidenee,to communicate to your readers what I
conceive to be the elements of beauty and excellence
in architecture ; after which I fhall proceed, in suc-
ceeding numbers of your paper, to apply the same
principles to poetry, painting, music, gardening, and
all the other subjects of taste.

As I write these lines in a remote retirement from
the bustle of the world, ‘anperplexed by books, and
andisturbed, as well as unsullied by vulgar society,
I conaide in the stores of my memory, warmed by

¥792. on taste in architecture. 235
sensibility, and enlightened by the torch of truth, for
discovering the grand outlines of an art which grew
originally out of the necefsities, the superstitions,
and the vanities of mankind, under which three. heads
I thall arrange the subject of my discourse.

§ 1. Concerning the architecture of necefsity, I am
foolifh enough to believe, in the end of the eighteenth:
century, that man was originally the tenant ofa gar-
den, that God was his friend and master, and reason,
with dire necefsity, ‘his instructors.

The circle is the most capacious of all figures,
and an arbour, formed in that figure, the most obvi-
ous and commodious of all dwellings; in which form
we find the huts of the people whom we are pleased
to call savages, in all countries ; and of such forms are
the old Pictifh dwellings, the remains of which are
yet to be scen. in Rofsthire, Sutherland, and Caith-
nefs in Scotland, and every where on the northern
continent of Europe. ‘* Naturam Jicet expellas furca
tamen usque recurrat.” A predilection for the cir-.
cular form, and the dome in the architecture of the:
most polifheé nations, still whispers from. whence
arose the primary idea of beauty-and: fhelter.

The fire, where necefsary, was kindled in the center
of the area; and, from the top,, the fumes of the fuel
were emitted, while all the family had an equal. ihare-
of the light and. heat of the chearer of the rigid
winter. As life began to be a little more opprefsed’
with care, and the wants of men more numerous, 2.
place would be found wanting to prepare food, and
would give rise to a sort of peristyle, or adject, to the
circular hut, where the Sarah of the woods would’

wy

235 on taste in architecture. © Aug. 228
bake cakes for angels when they came, and for mere
men when angels were not so common. The smoke
in this adject would be disposed of in the same man-
ner, but at the extremity of the area, leaving room
only for benches or seats of stone or turf, around
which the females or servants would sit, after the
labours of the day were over, and every fhepherd
would tell, or repeat his tale, as he had done hereto-
fore under the hawthorn tree. ,

“© Extrema per illus justitia excedius terris

“<< Vestigia fecit.

Fair virtue then and freedom, blest

Arcadian fhepherds s iw ;

Astrea’s steps they fondly prest,

And sought no other law !

GOLDEN FLEECE, Stanzo iv-

‘But the inclemency of the weather, in the more
northern and antartic regions of the earth, would
render it necefsary to fence dwellings more effectual-
ly from cold and moisture; and, during the rainy
seasons, within the tropics, these houses would be
found quite inadequate to the protection and comfort
of the people. They would, therefore, fix deeply in
the soil, or in rock where it. could be obtained, large
straight stemmed trees, placed 1n the same circular
form, at convenient distances, and wattling the inter-
stices with oziers or withes, would coat them over witli
clay and mud, beat into plaister, with the admixture
of dried leaves, or other decayed vegetables, to keep
the ‘materials together. This hypothesis is verifyed
by the writers referred to in the margin, and by the
testimony of all our modern circumnavigators *.

* Diodorus Siculus. lib. 1. p. §2. Sinchon apud Euseb, p. 35. Vovagrs

a Perou par M. Bouguer, p. 8 andro. Plin. lib. 7. § §7. and-p. 41%,
The travels and voyages of Banks, Solander, Cooke, Gc. Ge. —

1762. on taste in architecture. 237

The roof of this improved arbour would be cover’
ed in after the same manner, and similarly fortified
against the accefs of wind and rain, according to the
circumstances of the climate. This dwelling would
exhibit no mean image of an original temple, to
which it would lead in the next stage to improve-
ment, which thall be the subject of our immediate
consideration.

§ ur. Men protected against the injuries of weather,
and the molestation of beasts, would be induced some-
times by fear, and sometimes by gratitude, if not by

traditional theology, to adore or deprecate the Majesty
of heaven, or the supposed power of invisible beings.
He would ascend high mountains where he thought
himself nearer to tr.myuillity and happinefs, and to
the seats of eternal natures. He would kindle fire
in honour of the v vf ing author of day, rejoice in
his approach, or mourn his departure. Some place
of fhelter would be necefsary to perform the adoring
or appeasing rites, and he would naturally adopt and
amplify that mode of building which he had chosen
for domestic comfort ; but the object of his adoration
or fear, being invisible, he would not at first think
of excluding this mansion from the accefs’ of light,
or of the external air,—it would be, (as we may say,)
an open rotunda. On very high mountains the elec-
tric aura encompafses the head with a phosphoric
nimbus, with which adject, accordingly, the worthip-
pers of the sun were wont to be represented,—a sym-
bol that has been adopted in the mythology of our so-
phisticated religion during the dark ages. As society
became closer and more complicated, and its powers

238 on taste in architecture. . Aug. B2s.
increased, these places of worfhip, would be impro-
ved and rendered more magnificent, and to trees would,
succeed pillars of stone, coarsely fhaped, to imitate
their form ; imposts of stone would be laid acrofs
these uprights, and constitute circular temples after
the manner of Stonehenge *.

In procefs of time these uprights would be formed
by the chisel to the beautiful taper of the smooth
barked tree, the imposts would be channelled and
grooved, to cast deep and distinctive fhadows, and last
of all, the obolo, and other members of the fhaft and
eapital, would be superadded. The ornaments of
the capital and the architrave, pedestals, and other
refinements in architecture, belong to the age of high
refinement, caprice, and vanity, which we are after-
wards to describe.

In the columniation of a temple, we behold the ori-
ginal grove; and the adoption was natural, since, as:
we are informed by Herodotus, that to the temple of
Diana, one of the most magnificent in his age, the ap-.
proach was by an avenue of lofty trees, ‘* trees
aspiring to heaven t.”

* This temple of the Belge in Britain, is propably alluded to in a frag~
ment of Hecatzeus, where it is recorded that certain Tyrian navigatorss
visited, in the plains of North Britain, a huge temple dedicated to the
sun Jn the epistle ef Quintus.to his brother Marcus. Tullius Cicero, in:
the fifth-volume of this work, a description is given of the manner in
which those gigantic monuments were raised without any extraordinary
efforts.

+ This is represented in the structures we are pleased to call Gothic,
by the basilicon or nave of the church, that by which the priests ap-
proached in procefsion to the sanctuary, which was placed at the east end
of the building adjoining to the high altar. See the very sensible and)

T7920 grammatical diquisitions. _ 239

In the ornament of the capital we contemplate the
beauty and virtue of the Indian Lotus, which had un-
doubtedly given origin to the foliage of the pillar
idly ascribed to the accident of the tile and the acan-
thus. In the decoration of the Ionic order we are
to reflect on the ornaments of the Delphic altar, and

“of the Ammonian Jupiter ; and for other improve-

ments we are to examine the history and manners of
the countries in which they were adopted; and to clafs
those of latter ages under that head of architecture,
which falls hereafter to be considered, and must oc-

cupy several succefsive articles in this miscellany, if,

from this specimen of my feeble endeavours to illus-
trate a subject of so much importance, your readers
fhall exprefs any desire that they fhould be continu-
ed. Iam, Sir,
Your humble servant. B. A.

GRAMMATICAL DISQUISITIONS.

AGREEABLE to my promise, Bee vol. vii. p. 171. I
now beg leave to offer a few remarks on ‘the philo-
sophy of grammar.”

The radical principles of language being the same
in al] nations, one would naturally imagine that gram-
mar would be an easy, a simple, and of course 2
pleasing study. The reverse of this is found in prac-—
tice to be the case. If every language must have
words of the same kind to exprefs the ideas that oc-

“L? t
accurate efsay ot Gothic structures, Bee, vol. il. p.247, &c. This mode
ef architecture, I apprehend to have been of Scythic or Persic crigimy
and so introduced by the Hellenic Goths, afterwards called Greeks.

240 ik grammatical ingatibabss Aug. 2%
cur to the human mind; ,which cannot be denied, it
would seem that ath ie could be more simple or’
easy than the translating from one language into ano-
ther, because nothing more would. be wanted than to
substitute one word in place, of another; yet, when
we come to attempt this in practice, it is found to be
an intricate and a difficult tafk. It would be an use-
ful enterprise to attempt to account for this seeming:
contradiction.

‘The fundamental principles of grammar are doubt-
lefs the same in all languages, and admit not of any
variation, But in the primary formation of words,
in their combinations, and modifications, the pofsible
variations are almost infinite. Grammar, therefore,
in the abstract, can only be one, and if the e/seatial
circumstances alone are adverted to, it must be both
simple and easy: but in practice it may be infinitely
various: and, if casual variations, and unefsential
modifications, be not carefully distinguifhed from-ef-
sential principles, it will become an intricate study,
a complicated chaotic mafs, in which nothing but dark-
nefs and confusion appear.

This has, in fact, been too much the case; and
those who have attempted to explain the principles
of grammar, especially in modern times, have usual-
ly set up some one language as a standard of perfec-
tion, all the anomalies of which, they have consider-
ed as efsential principles, which has introduced a con-
fusion into that study that renders our ideas respec-
ting it indefinite and obscure.

It would greatly exceed the bounds of an efsay in
a miscellany of this nature to enter fully into this

2792. grammatical disqutsitioss. 240
discufsion. All that can be with propriety attempt:
ed, is to select a few cases by way of illustration,
that may Serve as exercises for those who with to.
acquire definite ideas on this interesting subject...

Of nouns.

THE names of the different objects of perception;.
form nearly half the words of every language ; and,_.
as nearly the same objects occur in all nations, words
denoting the most common objects in. nature are
found in almost all languages. A man, a tree, a
rock, water, earth, fire, and so on, are known every
where, and have in every language an appropriated
name. These names, therefore, must constitute a ra-
dical part of universal grammar.. Wherever grammar
has been attended to at all, this clafs of words has
been discriminated, and a name has been appropria-
ted in all civilized nations to denote them. The La-
tins, with much propriety, distinguifhed this clafs of
words by simply calling them NnameEs; so that the
very word itself serves instead -of a. difinition: in
Englifh we call the same clafs of words nouns, a
word which, till it be particularly explained, conveys:
no idea at all to a mere Englifh scholar.. Here, at.
the very threfhold of our enquiry, we meet with a ma--
terial difference in the two languages.

The Latins,. however, included more under: that-
title than with propriety belonged to it: They in-.
cluded not only the objects themselves, but the qua-
lities also which might be accidentally combined with
these objects. They, therefore, divided this clafs
of words into two parts; the first they called naMES

VOL. xX, HH! ¢.

242 grammatical disquisitions. Aug. t2.
substantive, and the last they denominated, NAMES
adjective ; of this last we hall at preseat say gia 3
but proceed in our analysis of the first.

If the Latin language was beautiful in the original
choice of the word for denoting the clafs, we are now
led to perceive that it was not only imperfect, but
erroneous, in as far as the same word was employed
to denote gualities as well as substances. This led

them into another error, by denominating substantives .

the whole clafs of names properly so called. The
word substantive was evidently adopted, because a
great many of the objects for which these names were
invented consist of solid matter, called substance ;
but under this clafs is included a prodigious variety
of ideal objects, that have neither form nor substance.
This, therefore, misleads the mind; so that here our.
unmeaning Noun has the preference to it; but we
have been so fond of the Latin as even to adopt this.
word, and indifferently say moun or substantive.

It would be tiresome to go farther in this kind of
parallel ; and we only went thus far to give an idea
of the manner in which the mind is imperceptibly
misled in all languages, by the very terms that-are
made use of in that language ; and to fhow in what
way a particular ediomatic exprefsion in one language
may convey a sensation of pleasure or disgust to the
miad, that cannot be felt when it is translated into
the nearest equivalent words of another language.
The above only exhibits one instance in its simplest.
form ; but when we advert to the infinite diversity
of latent ideas, to adopt a new phrase, that must be
annexed to particular words, by a kind of reflection.

\,

1792. grammatical disquisitions. - 243
from their. derivatives, by certain inflections and
particular combinations, it will be very apparent
that an attempt to convey, precisely, similar sensa-
tions, in a different language, must be altogether im-
pofsible; and, as itis these delicate submeanings,
which excite the ecstatic pleasure that a feeling mind
alone can know, and which constitutes the efsence
of what is called a fine taste; we hence perceive the
reason why it has ever been deemed impofsible to
convey a just idea of the beauties of a poem into
another language. Though in mere philosophical
enquiries it is a much lefs difficult tafk.

To return to nouns. The bulk of grammarians
have afserted that Nouns admit of a threefold varia-
tion, vzz. that which respects Ist. NUMBER, 2d. GEN-
DER, and 3d. casE. The propriety of this distinc
tion may be disputed.

By a variation of the noun, these grammarians
mean a change of the word itself that constitutes the
name of any object, by an addition or change of some
letters. ‘

The distinction respecting NUMBER, is natural, and
probably may be found more or lefs complete in all
languages. There are few objects in nature that
are single of their kind. In most cases there are
great numbers of the same clafs' of objects; but as
one or more of them may be the object of discufsion,
a variation of the name has been in general adopted
to denote plurality. Thus, cing denotes’ one object ;
Kings, denote any number of the same objects more
than one. In the same manner prince, princes, man,
men, and so on. Every language we know of has

244° grammatical disquisitions. Aug: 22.
adopted this two-fold distinction at least, of siagulak
and plural respecting NUMBER.

In most languages the distinction by inflection is
no more than two-fold. Wherever the particular
-value of plurality is meant to be specified, the num-
ber is added, as two, three, ten, twenty, or an hundred
Aings. In some languages, however, a particular in-
flection has been adopted for exprefsing the number
two, which has been called the dua/ number ; and we
can easily conceive it pofsible for some languages to
have other variations of the noun, for yet higher de-
finite numbers, though none of these have been yet
discovered.

With regard to GENDER. This also has been said
to be three-fold, vzx. masculine, feminine and neuter.
The idea here inculcated has been evidently bor-
rowed from the practice of the Latins, who, by a
‘particular artificial construction of their language in
other respects, found it extremely convenient to adopt
the variations here specified; and from the Latins
we have borrowed these words, without seeming to
have annexed any precise ideas to them. What re-
spects the inflection of the neuter gender has no foun-
dation at all in nature ; and it will be easy to-fhow

that what relates to the other genders is accidental
also, and, if it were necefsary, imperfect.

God hath been pleased to create most part of ani-
mals male and female. There is nothing therefore
unnatural in denoting the male and the female of the
same animal, by the same word slightly diversified.
At may therefore happen, that in some languages this
variation of the noun does take place, as in prince,
prince/s, peer, peerefs ; in which case the Nouns might

"1792. grammatical disquisitions. 245
‘be said to admit of the maseuliue and feminine GEN-
DER, by inflection. But this can in no sense be con-
sidered as an efsential property of the noun. It would
be easy to adopt different words for this purpose, as
we in fact do in many cases, as fing and queen, horse
and mare, bull and cow, ram and ewe, &c. which are
all distinct words. Therefore to say that nouns ne-
cefsarily require a variation by znflection for gender,
is improper ; and if we were to admit that a mascu-
liae and feminine gender were required, we fhould still
find that several other genders were necefsary. Many ~
animals have no sex at all, as grubs, caterpillars, We.
many others are of both sexes, as different kinds of
worms ; many others have no apparent sex, as snails,
slugs, ce. To denote all these variations, a much
greater diversity of genders than-the masculine and fe-
minine therefore would have been necefsary. Thetruth,
however, is, that no variation of the NouN whatever
is required respecting gender, and our notions have
been, as to this particular, totally perverted, by en-
deavouring to erect the anomalous practice adopted
in a particular language into a radical principle in
‘grammar. ‘The doctrine of genders is infleed one of
the most intricate, and as it has been applied, one of
the most absurd, in grammar, and highly requires
elucidation ; but that will come to be more pro-
perly investigated under a separate head, if we fhould
ever go so far.

The variation respecting CASE is still more absurd,
and the doctrine that has been founded on it, yet
more ridiculous; but this fhall form the subject of #
separate paper.

To be continued,

WERSES ON PATIENCE, WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF A FRIENB.
BY DR BYROM,

For the Bee.

A verse on patience ?——Yes,—but then prepare

Your mind, friend Robert, with a reading fhare,

Or else “twill give you rather Jeis thon more,

To hear it mentioned than you had before:

If mine to write, remember "tis your cafk

To read the lines which you are pleas’d to afk. ;

Patience the theme ?—a blefsed inmate this!
The nursing parent of our bosom blifs ; ”
Abro.d for blifs fhe bids us rot to roam,
But cultivate its real fund at home:

A noble treasure !—when the patient soul,
Sits in the center and surveys the whole,

The bustling wor!d, to fetch her out from thence,
Will urge the various, plausible pretence 5
Wiil prove perfections of a grander name,
Sound great exploits, and call her cut to fame;
Anuse and flatter, till the soul, too prone

To selfactivity, deserts her thione.

Beon your guard,—the bus’nefs of a man

Is to be sure to do what good he can;

But first at home, let patience rule within,
Where charity you know must first begin 5
Not monied love, as tondly understvod,

But talm sedate prope-sity to good.

The xenuine virtue of the modest friend,
‘Which you oblige me here to recommend 5
‘The tial this ot all the rest beside,

For wthout patience they are all but pride 5
A strarg ambiticn fhines within its sphere,
But pnves its weaknefs, when it cannot bear.

There jes the test,—bring ev’ry thing to that ;
It fhows us plainly what we would be at:

Of gen'tous actio s we may count the sui,

But sca‘ce the worth, till disappointments come 3
Men of. are then more gen’rously absurd,

Pheir own go_d actions have their own bad wo.d.

¥792.

>
#

poetry.
Impatience hates ingratitude, forsooth!
Why ?—ir discovers our ingrateful truth ;
That having done, for interest or fame,
Such and such doings, the has lost her aim 5.
While thanklefs people, really in her debr,
Have got all theirs, and put her in a fret..

Po‘sest of patience, a right humble mind,

At all events, is totally resiga’d;

Does good for sake of good, not for th’ event,
Leaves that to heav’n.and keeps to its content 5
Good io be done, or to be suffer’d ill,

It acts, it bea.s, with meek submifsive will.

Enough, enough !—Now tell me if you please,

How is it to be had, this mental ease ? .
God knows,—I do not, how it is acquir’d 5

But this J know,—if heartily desir’d,

We fhall be thankful for the donor’s leave

To afk, to hope, and wait till we receive.

VERSES WROTE BY A LADY IN A DEEP DECLINE TO HRER

INFANT NINE MONTHS OLD.

For the Bee.

Sweet babe! you smile unconscious in my arms
Of all the fears which my foad heart alarms >
Thy little hands fast wipe my tears away,

You seem to say, be chearful, O be gay!

Ah! lovely infant little dost thou know
Thy mother’s agony, her grief, her woe;
Her hours of care, her many restiefs nights,
‘The thousand terrors that her soul affrights

You little know the ills that round you wait, ‘
And seem to threat your young, your helplefs.state-;
Misfortuns o’er thee waves her baleful wand,

And gloomy clouds of sorrow lowr around.

Peaceful thy father rests in death’s dark tomb,
And soon thy mother too must mee: hes doom;
Soon on my palid cheek the worm will feed,

And the rank grafs wave chearlefs round my head.

238°

pretrys Mug, es
Who, then, my child! will guide thy tender years,
And gently lead thee through this vale of tears ?
From penury and want who will thee save,
When both thy parents sleep in death’s cold grave ?

Fatal, perhaps, thy op’ning. charms may prove,

Thy cheeks soft crimson, and mild eye of love,
When thou hast no friend to protect thy youth,

To teach thee spotlefs innocence and truth.

These thoughts with wild emotions throb my breast,.
And deep despair deprives my soul of rest 5

These thoughts, O death! add horror to thy dart,
And thrills, with anguifh-keen a mother’s heart.

Religion come, and chear affliction’s hour,
Ah let my bleeding bosom feel thy pow’r!
Teach me, resign’d, to view approaching death,
And yield without regret to heav’n my breath.

My God, though this frail form will sink in dust,
Still in thy arm, all powerful! will I trust ;
Thou art rhe orphan’s fhield, the widow’s stay,
And thou my babe wilt guide in virtue’s way.
ELVINAs

LINES WRITTEN BY VOLTAIRE ON HIS DEATH BED,
SUPPOSED TO BE THE LAST THING HE. EVER WROTE,.

O prev qu’on mecconoit
O Dieu que tout annonce;
Entend le dernier mot,
Que ma bouche prononce+
Si je me suis trompé,
C’est en cherchant ta loi;
Mon ceur se peut egarer,
Mais il est plein de toi.
Je vois sans m’allarmer,
Lreternité paroitre,;
Et je ne puis penser,
@un Dieu que m’a fait naitre,
@un Dieu gue sur mes jours
Versa tant de bieafait,
Quand les jours sont eteints,
Me tourmente a jamais.

1702+ account of the agamée. 249

Sir, To the Editor of the Bee.

T cranscrreep the following article from a London perio-
dical publication that was stifled in its craddle, after a few
numbers only had been publifhed. As it has never per-
haps been seen by any of your readers, and was doubtlefs
unknown to your correspondent, a young observer, when he
wrote the account of the Zaya, vol. viii. p, 18. it may be
considered as a proper companion for that article. With-
ing succefs to your laudable undertaking, I am, Sir, your
‘humble servant, AN OLD BOOK worm.

‘
ee ER

_ Account of the agamée, a singular bird.

Nothing tends so much to demonstrate the immense
distance there is between man in a savage state, and man
in a state of society, as the conquests which the latter has
made over the wild animals. He is aided by the dog on num-
berlefs occasions; the horse, the ox, the afs, the camel,
the rein deer, the lama, become his servants, and enable
him to transport burdens which his own strength never
could have mastered. He rears, under his own eye, fowls,
turkies, geese, ducks, pheasants, and peacocks ; he has do-
mesticated pigeons, and made the bees themselves gather
stores for his use. The savage pays little attention to
these acquisitions, insomuch that there are few cases in
which he has attempted to make any of the animals mini-
ster by their labour to his wants, still fewer in which he
has thought of making them contribute to his pleasures
or amusements.

Man is formed for society ; he is therefore most highly
pleased with those of his own species who seem to be
most sensibly touched with those marks of attention which
indicate @ partiality for him ; and he never fails to be par-

VOL, X, i +

250 account of the eseibe Aug. 22.
ticularly delighted with these animals which are capable of
exprefsing an attachment to him, and of rélying upon him for
their protection and support. The dog, on account of the
sensibility he pofsefses in so surprising a degree, is in eve-
ry civilized country a particular favourite of man, inde-
pendently of his utility. ‘The cat, and other small animals,
which admit of being tamed, are more or lefs esteemed
as they pofsefs this quality in a greater of lefs degree of

perfection. :
Among the feathered tribe, some have been taken into

favour on account of the sweetnefs of their song; others
on account of the beauty of their plumage, or some other
singularity in their exterior appearance; but the attach-
ment that these animals fhow to their master, is in general
so very slight, that there are but few instances in which
they can lay claim to any degree of favour upon this
ground.

The only instance of any considerable degree of that
sort of attachment, on the part of any of the birds we
know of, is that which is manifested by a bird which
the French call the agamée. This bird is a native of
Cayenne in South America, and attaches itself to man,
with as much fidelity and warmth of affection as even a
dog does, If an agamée is admitted into any house,
jt attaches itself to some one person with the utmost fide-
lity, and affords the most unequivocal marks of the plea-
sure it takes in his company. It comes to its master on
all occasions with evident marks of satisfaction; carefses
him with eagernefs, flies before, or follows after him, and
exprefses, by various motions, the joy it feels at seeing or
accompanying him. It comes readily when called, in
whatever manner it may chance to be engaged at the time:
iv loves to be carefsed, and presents its head--and neck to
be stroaked by him, with a satisfaction seemingly equal to
that which a eat exprefies in similar circumstances, It

1792. anecdotes of Adrian Broor. 25%
loves to accompany its master at table, and being extreme-
ly jealous, it never fails to drive away, if pofsible, all cats
and dogs, ox other animals, that seem to fhare in its mas-
ter’s affection, especially when it is petitioning for food ;
and being fierce and couragious, it seldom fails to succeed.
It is entertaining to see with what art it evades the bite of
a dog, by soaring above his reach, and then darting down
suddenly upon him while he is off his guard. It always
aims his strokes at the eyes, which it attacks both with its
bill and its talons with great fury ; and when it. has.once
obtained a victory, it pursues its enemy with the most’sur-
prising obstinacy,. and would never cease tormenting it
till it died, if not. prevented. |

In fhort, so strong is the attachment this bird fhows to
man, that, in this respect, it seems to hold the same rank
as the dog among quadrupeds, and, in some instances, it
even seems to approach near to that animal in point of
docility. It is afserted that the agamée can be taught to:
guard a flock of fheep in the same manner as the dog.
Since, then, these birds love domesticity so much, where-
fore fhould we not endeavour to rear them in abundance,,
employ them in such uses as they are capable of being put
to, and endeavour still farther to improve their natural in-:
stincts, and render them more extensively serviceable. ta:
man ?

ANECDOTES OF ADRIAN BROOR, A CELEBRATED FLEMISH
PAINTER.

I arc leave to offer the following anecdotes of Broor, a.

noted Flemith painter, as another instance of the strange

eccentricities of some men of genius.
Adrian Broor, or Brawer, ot Brauer, .was born, at Qu-

denarde in the year 1608, and died 1640.

252 anecdotes of Adrian Broor. Aug. 22%

Of his parentage nething is known, only that they were
of the lowest ranks of the people. Without instructor of
any sort, and solely by an irresistible propensity of nature,
Broor, while yet in a manner an infant, used to amuse him-
self in painting birds and flowers, upon small bits of linen ;
and his mother, for a subsistence, sold them to women of
the country, who employed them as ornaments of their drefs.

While he was thus employed, Francis Hals, a famcus
painter, went by chance to the place where the young
Broor lived, and, struck by his rising talents, he proposed
to instruct him. Boor, charmed with this lucky rencoun-
ter, did not hesitate to follow him. But what he looked
upon as extremely fortunate, was to him the source of in-
finite chagrins and disappointment. ‘The avarice of Hals
and his wife instigated them to avail themselves of the
talents of the young unfortunate, whose hard fortune they
seemed to bewail.

As soon as they had him in their power they made him
labour to excefs, and made him almost die of hunger.
Lean and emaciated, he had scarcely the appearance of
a human being; the rags with which he was covered
gave him the appearance of the utmost misery. Whilst he.
himself was in want of the necefsaries of life, the little
pictures at which he worked night and day were sold at 2
very great price. The greedinefs of his masters, only in-
creasing in proportion as they found the means to satisfy -
themselves, they fhut him up in a garret, that he might
“be able to produce more works.

That separation inspired the anxiety or the curiosity
of his companions, disciples of Hals, who watched the mo-
ment of his absence to discover what Broor did in his pri-
son. They. went up each in their turn, and, by means of

- a small window, they saw with surprise that this poor and
despised apprentice, wasa great painter, and made very’

£792. anecdotes of Adrian Broor. ; 253
pretty pictures. One of these young people proposed
to him to paint the five senses at four sous a-piece. Broor
executed them so well, that another asked of him the ‘we/we
months of the year at the same price.

Our ‘prisoner thought himself very happy, and conside-
red, as a good fortune, the purchase money of these little
subjects which he did by stealth, and in some leisure mo-
ments ; but the considerable profits which his works brought
him determined Hals and his wife to watch him so closely
that he fhould not havea single minute to dispose of ; these
unconscionable guards, not content with exhausting him
with labour, diminifhed day by day the small pittance
destined for his subsistence.

This dreadful situation was like to drive him to despair,.
when one of his comrades. advised him to make his escape,
and even furnifhed him with the means. Deprived of every
thing, and almost naked, Broor strayed through the city not
knowing where to go, nor what would behis lot.. After hae
ving wandered a long time, he stopt at the thop of a ginger-
bread baker, and bought as much as fhould serve him all
day, paying for it all the money which he had, and ran to
place himself under the organ of the great church. Whilst
he was there, ruminating in his mind how he fhould get’
into amore comfortable situation, he was recognised by
an intimate friend who took him back to his master, who
had been at much pains to find him, and, overjoyed at re-
covering him, promised to use him better in time to come.

Hals piqued himself upon the performance of his pro-
mise; he bought him a suit of second hand clothes, and
fed hima little better, Broor, thus encouraged, set about
his work with ardour, but always for the proft of his mas-
ter, who sold very dear the pictures which he had for almost ’
nothing. Broor alone was ignorant of his talents, and the’

254 « anecdotes of Adrian Broor. Aug. 2%
resources which they would have procured him. Informed
at last by his comrades of the price of his pictures, he esca-
ped more effectually than the first time,and took refuge in.
the city of Amsterdam, where he arrived without friends or
money. His good stars conducted him to an honest seller
of pictures, who granted him an asylum. One may guels:
with what pleasure Broor learned that his works were
known in Amsterdam, and that they sold fora considerable
price. '

He would have perhaps doubted it, ifam amateur had not
given him about an hundred ducats for one of.his pictures.
As soon.as Broor, who had demanded that sum trembling,
saw himself in pofsefsion of so much money, he spread it.
out upon his bed, transported with joy, and rolled himself
upon it.

Ten days pafsed in a debauch with the people of the very.
lowest sort, who soon made him find the bottom of his purse..
He then came back, rejoiced and content, to the picture:
merchant where he lodged, who asking him what he had.
done with his money : “ I have got happily rid of it,” said.
he, ‘‘ in order to be more free.”

This alternative between labour and difsipation was his
constant plan of conduct all the rest’of his life. He ne-
ver dreamed of taking the pencil until: he had. no more
money. He was continually involving himself in drun-
ken quarrels with the dregs of the populace, after having
drank freely with them. His work fhop was generally.
in an inn, where he was often obliged to send his works. to-
sellto the amateurs, to pay his expence.

Broor gave himself up with such enthusiasm when: at’
work, that he was often heard speaking Spanith, Italian,
and French, as if he had been with the persons whom he

was paintiug,

1702 . anecdotes of Adrian Brcor. 255

There is nothing more diverting than the adventures
which Broor met with every day. In one of his rambles
he was stript entirely by robbers. Not having money to
purchase a new wardrobe, he took it into his head to make
himself a habit. of knen, on which he painted flowers
in the taste of the Indian robes. The ladies were de-
ceived by it, and were anxious to have a similar stuff and
pattern. Broor contrived, in order to undeceive them, to.
mount a stage at the end ofa performance ; and, taking a
spunge soaked with water, he eifaced before their eyes all
the pictures on‘his drefs.

Whilst war was entire!y desolating Flanders, Broor was
“very desirous of going to Antwerp. Notwithstanding the
representations of his friends, he could not resist his impa-
tience, and was taken in that city fora spy. Being fhut
up in the citadel, he had there the good forturie to meet
the duke of Aremberg, whom he informed of his _profe{si-
on. The duke, who received sometimes visits from Ru-
bens, begged that great artist to give to a prisoner some
materials and other things wanted tor painting. Rubens

_had no sooner cast his eyes on the picture which the pre-
tended spy was making, than hecried out, This 7s a picture
of Broor’s! and was absolutely for paying him six hun-
dred florins.

Rubens employed all his friends to get Broor out of pri-
son; he even became surety for him, and having obtained
his enlargement, he clothed him, and took care to have
kim lodged, and breight him to his own table. Far from
making a proper return for all these generous cares, Broor
fled precipitately from the house of his illustrious bene-
factor in order to enjoy his liberty.

Broor perceived at length that he was Gerieedl by his
relations on account of his ill drefs. Sensible of the marks
of their disdain, he bought a very genteel drefs of velvet.
ne of his cousins seeing him so well equipped, begged him

.

!

240 i grammatical disquisitions. Aug, :a%.
cur to the human mind;, which cannot. be denied, it
would seem that nothing could be more simple or’
easy than the translating from one language into ano-
ther, because nothing more would be wanted than to
substitute one word in place. of another; yet, when
we come to attempt this in practice, it 1s found to be
an intricate and a difficult tafk. It would be an use-)
ful enterprise to attempt to account for this seeming:
contradiction.

‘The fundamental principles of grammar are doubt-
lefs the same in all languages, and admit not of any
variation. But in the primary formation of words,
in their combinations, and modifications, the pofsible
variations are almost infinite. Grammar, therefore,
in the abstract, can only be one, and if the e/sential
circumstances alone are adverted to, it must be both
simple and easy: but in practice it may be infinitely
various: and, if casual variations, and unefsential
modifications, be not carefully distinguifhed from-ef-
sential principles, it will become an intricate study,
a complicated chaotic mafs, in which nothing but dark-~
nefs and confusion appear.

This has, in fact, been too much the case; and
those who have attempted to explain the principles
of grammar, especially in modern times, have usual-
ly set up some one language asa standard of perfec-
tion, all the anomalies of which, they have consider-
ed as efsential principles, which has introduced a con-
fusion into that study that renders our ideas respec-
ting it indefinite and obscure.

It would greatly exceed the bounds of an efsay in
a miscellany of this nature to enter fully into this

2792. grammatical disqutsitiots. 24€
discufsion. All that can be with propriety attempt:
ed, is to select a few cases by way of illustration,
that may serve as exercises for those who wilh to.
acquire definite ideas on this interesting subject...

Of nouns.

THE names of the different objects of perception;.
form nearly half the words of every language ; and,.
as nearly the same objects occur in all nations, words
denoting the most common objects in nature are
found in almost all languages. A man, a tree, a
rock, water, earth, fire, and so on, are known every”
where, and have in every language an appropriated
name. These names, therefore, must constitute a ra-
dical part of universal grammar.. Wherever grammar
has been attended'to at all, this clafs of. words has
been discriminated, and a name has been appropria-
ted in all civilized nations to denote them. The La-
tins, with much propriety, distinguifhed this clafs of
words by simply calling them NAMES; so that the
very word itself serves instead of a. difinition: in
Englifh we call’ the same clafs of words nouns, a
word which, till it be particularly explained, conveys:
no idea at all to a mere Englifh scholar.. Here, at.
the very threfhold of our enquiry, we meet with a ma--
terial difference in the two languages.

The Latins,. however, included more under: that:
title than with propriety belonged to it. They in-.
cluded not only the objects themselves, but the qua-
lities also which might be accidentally combined with
these objects. They, therefore, divided this clafs
of words into two parts; the first they called NamES

VOL. XxX. HH! 7

242 grammatical disquisitions. Aug. vz. ©

substantive, and the last they denominated, NAMES
adjective ; of this last we fhall at preseat say nothing,
but proceed in our analysis of the first.

If the Latin language was beautiful in the original
choice of the word for denoting the clafs, we are now
led to perceive that it was not only imperfect, but
erroneous, in as far as the same word was employed
to denote gualities as well as substances. This led
them into another error, by denominating substantives
the whole clafs of names properly so called. The
word substantive was evidently adopted, because a
great many of the objects for which these names were
invented consist of solid matter, called substance ;
but under this clafs is included a prodigious variety
of ideal objects, that have neither form nor substance.
This, therefore, misleads the mind; so that here our
unmeaning NouN has the preference to it; but we
have been so fond of the Latin as even to adopt this.
word, and indifferently say noun or substantive.

It would be tiresome to go farther in this kind of
parallel; and we only went thus far to give an idea
of the manner in which the mind is imperceptibly
misled in all languages, by the very terms that-are
made use of in that language ; and to fhow in what
way a particular zdiomatic exprefsion in one language
may convey a sensation of pleasure or disgust to the
miad, that cannot be felt when it is translated into
the nearest equivalent words of another language.
The above only exhibits one instance in its simplest.
form; but when we advert to the infinite diversity
of latent ideas, to adopt a new phrase, that must be
annexed to particular words, by a kind of reflection.

1792. grammatical disquisttions. - 243
from their derivatives, by certain inflections and
particular combinations, it will be very apparent
that an attempt to convey, precisely, similar sensa-
tions, in a different language, must be altogether im-
pofsible; and, as it is these delicate submeanings,
which excite the ecstatic pleasure that a feeling mind
alone can know, and which constitutes the efsence
of what is called a fine taste; we hence perceive the
reason why it has ever been deemed impofsible to
convey a just idea of the beauties of a poem into
another language. Though in mere philosophical
enquiries it is a much lefs difficult tak.

To return to nouns. The bulk of grammarians
have afserted that Nouns admit of a threefold varia-
tion, viz. that which respects Ist. NUMBER, 2d. GEN-
DER, and 3d. case. ‘The propriety of this distinc~
tion may be disputed.

By a variation of the noun, these grammarians
mean a change of the word itself that constitutes the
name of any object, by an addition or change of some
letters. 5

The distinction respecting NUMBER, is natural, and
probably may be found more or lefs complete in all
languages. There are few objects in nature that
are single of their kind. In most cases there are
great numbers of the same clafs' of objects; but as
one or more of them may be the object of discufsion,
a variation of the name has been in general adopted
to denote plurality. Thus, 4ing denotes’ one object ;
Kings, denote any number of the same objects more
than one. In the same manner prince, princes, man,
men, and so on. Every language we know of has

aay grammatical disquisitions. Aug: 2%.
adopted this two-fold distinction at least, of singulak
and plural respecting NUMBER.

In most languages the distinction by inflection is
no more than two-fold. Wherever the particular
‘value of plurality is meant to be specified, the num-
ber is added, as two, three, ten, twenty, or an hundred
Zings. In some languages, however, a particular in-
flection has been adopted for exprefsing the number
two, which has been called the dual number ; and we
can easily conceive it pofsible for some languages to
have other variations of the noun, for yet higher de-
finite numbers, though none of these have been yet
discovered.

With regard to GENDER. This also has been said
to be three-fold, viz. masculine, feminine and neuter.
The idea ‘here inculcated has been evidently bor-
rowed from the practice of the Latins, who, by a
‘particular artificial construction of their language in
other respects, found it extremely convenient to adopt
the variations here specified; and from the Latins
we have borrowed these words, without seeming to
have annexed any precise ideas to them. What re-
spects the inflection of the zeuter gender has no foun-
dation at all in nature ; and it will be easy to-fhow

_ that what relates to the other genders is accidental
also, and, if it were necefsary, imperfect.

God hath been pleased to create most part of ani-
mals male and female. There is nothing therefore
unnatural in denoting the male and the female of the
same animal, by the same word slightly diversified.
&t may therefore happen, that in some languages this
variation of the noun does take place, as in prince,
princefs, peer, peerefs ; in which case the NOUNS might

"1792. grammatical disguisitions. 246
‘be said to admit of the masculiue and feminine GEN-
DER, by zflection. But this can in no sense be con-
sidered as an efsential property of the noun. It would
‘be easy to adopt different words for this purpose, as
we in fact do in many cases, as ding and queen, horse
and mare, bull and cow, ram and ewe, &c. which are
all distinct words. Therefore to say that nouns ne-
cefsarily require a variation by znflection for gender,
is improper ; and if we were to admit that a mascu-
liae and feminine gender were required, we fhould stilt
find that several other genders were necefsary. Many ~
animals have no sex at all, as grubs, caterpillars, We.
many others are of both sexes, as different kinds of
worms ; many others have no apparent sex, as snails,
slugs, Sc. To denote all these variations, a much
greater diversity of genders thanthe masculine and fe-
minine therefore would nave been necefsary. Thetruth,
however, is, that no variation of the NoUN whatever
is required respecting gender, and our notions have
been, as to this particular, totally perverted, by en-
deavouring to erect the anomalous practice adopted
in a particular language into a radical principle in
‘grammar. The doctrine of genders is infleed one of
the most intricate, and as it has been applied, one of
the most absurd, in grammar, and highly requires
elucidation ; but that will come to be more pro-
perly investigated under a separate head, if we fhould
ever go so far.

The variation respecting CAsE is still more absurd,
and the doctrine that has been founded on it, yet
more ridiculous; but this fhall form the subject of @
separate paper.

To be continued.

POETRY.

WERSES ON PATIENCE, WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF A FRIENB.
BY DR BYROM,

For the Bee.

A verse on patience >-Yes,—but then prepare

Your mind, friend Robert, with a reading fhare,

Or else ’twill give you rather leis thn moce,

To hear it mentioned than you had before:

If mine to write, remember "tis your cafk

To read the lines which you are pleas’d to afk. ;

Patience the theme ?—a blefsed inmate this!
The nursing parent of our bosom blifs ; °
Abroad for blifs fhe bids us rot to roam,
But cultivate its real fund at home:

A noble treasure !—when the patient soul,
Sits in the center and surveys the whole.

The bustling wor'd, to fetch ker out from thence,
Will urge che various, plausible pretence ;
Wiil prove perfections of a grander name,
Sound great exploits, and call her cut to fame;
Anuse and flatter, till the soul, too prone
To selfactivity, deserts her thione.

;
Beon your guard,—the bus’nefs of a man
Is to be sure to do what good he can;
But first at home, let patience rule within,
Where charity you know must first begin 5
Not monied love, as fondly understuod,
But calm sedate prope-sity to good.

The zenuine virtue of the modest friend,
Wh ch you oblige me here to recommend ;
‘The tial this of all the res: beside,

For wthout patience they are all but pride;
A strorg ambition fhines within its sphere,
But pnves its weakne{s, when it cannot bear,

There jes the test,—bring ev’ry thing to that 5
Tt fhows us plainly what we would be at:

Of gen'tous actio s we may count the suin,

But sca’ce che worth, till disappointments come ;
Men of. are then more ae absurd,

Pheir own go_d actions have their own bad wo.d.

1792.

poetry. , 24,7
Impatience hates ingratitude, forsooth!
Why ?—it discovers our ingrateful truth ;
That having done, for interest or fame,
Such and such doings, fhe has lost her aim 3.
While thanklefs people, really in her debr,
Have got all theirs, and put her in a fret..

Po‘sest of patience, a right humble mind,

At all events, is totally resiga’d;

Does good for sake of good, not for th’ event,
Leaves that to heav’n.and keeps to its content 5
Good io be done, or to be suffer’d ill,

It acis, it bea.s, with meek submifsive will.

Enough, enough !—Now tell me if you please,

How is it to be had, this mental ease ? A
God knows,—I do not, how it is acquir’d 5

But this J know,—if heartily desird,

We fhall be thankful for the donor’s leave

To afk, to hope, and wait till we receive.

VERSES WROTE BY A LADY IN A DEEP DECLINE TO HER

INFANT NINE MONTHS OLD.

For the Bee.

Sweet babe! you smile unconscious in my arms
Of all the fears which my foad heart alarms }
Thy little hands fast wipe my tears away,

You seem to say, be chearful, O be gay!

Ah! lovely infant little dost thou know
Thy mother’s agony, her grief, her woe;
Her hours of care, her many restiefs nights,
‘The thousand terrors that her soul affrights

You little know the ills that round you wait,

And seem to threat your young, your helplefs.state-3
Misforctuns o’er thee waves her baleful wand,

And gloomy clouds of sorrow lowr around.

Peaceful thy father rests in death’s dark tomb,
And soon thy mother too must meet hes doom;
Soon on my palid cheek the worm will feed,

And the rank grafs wave chearlefs round my head,

«

pretrye Mug, 22%.

Who, then, my child! will guide thy tender years,
And gently lead thee through this vale of tears ?
From penury and want who will thee save,

When both thy parents sleep in death’s cold grave?

Fatal, perhaps, thy op’ning. charms may prove,

Thy checks soft crimson, and mild eye of love,
When thou hast no friend to protect thy youth,

To teach thee spotlefs innocence and truth.

These thoughts with wild emotions throb my breast,.
And deep despair deprives my soul of rest 5

These thoughts, O death! add horror to thy dart,
And thrills, with anguifh keen a mother’s heart.

Religion come, and chear affliction’s hour,
Ah let my bleeding bosom feel thy pow’r!
Teach me, resign’d, to view approaching death,
And yield without regret to heav’n my breath.

My God, though this. frail form will sink in dust,
Still in thy arm, all powerful! will I trust ;
Thou art the orphan’s fhield, the widow’s stay,
And thou my babe wilt guide in virtue’s way,
ELVINAs

LINES WRITTEN BY VOLTAIRE ON HIS DEATH BED,
SUPPOSED TO-BE THE LAST THING HE EVER WROTE,.

O prev qu’on mecconoit
O Dieu que tout annonce; »
Entend le dernier mot,
Que ma bouche pronounces
Si je me suis trompé,
C’est en cherchant ta loi;
Mon ceeur se peut egarer,
Mais il est plein de toi.
Je vois sans m’allarmer,
Lreternité paroitre 5
Et je ne puis penser,
@un Dieu que m’a fait naitre,
@un Dieu gue sur mes jours
Versa tant de bieafait,
Quand les jours sont eteints,
Me tourmente a jamais.

en

1792 account of the agamiée. 249

Sir, To the Editor of the Bee.

T cranscrrzep the following article from a London perio-
dical publication that was stifled in its craddle, after a few
numbers only had been publifhed. As it has never per-
haps been seen by any of your readers, and was doubtlefs
unknown to your correspondent, a young observer, when he
wrote the account of the aya, vol. viii. p. 18. it may be
considered as a proper companion for that article. With-
ing succefs to your laudable undertaking, I am, Sir, your
‘humble servant, AN OLD BOOK worm.

Account of the agamée, a singular bird.

Nothing tends so much to demonstrate the immense
distance there is between man in a savage state, and man
in a state of society, as the conquests which the latter has
made over the wild animals. He is aided by the dog on num-
berlefs occasions; the horse, the ox, the afs, the camel,
the rein deer, the lama, become his servants, and enable
‘him to transport burdens which his own streagth never
could have mastered. He rears, under his own eye, fowls,
turkies, geese, ducks, pheasants, and peacocks ; he has do-
mesticated pigeons, and made the bees themselves gather
stores for his use. The savage pays little attention to
these acquisitions, insomuch that there are few cases in
which he has attempted to make any of the animals mini-
ster by their labour to his wants, still fewer in which he
has thought of making them contribute to his pleasures
or amusements.

Man is formed for society ; he is therefore most highly
pleased with those of his own species who seem to be
most sensibly touched with those marks of attention which
indicate a partiality for him ; and he never fails to be par-

VOL, X. Il Nir

850 account of the agamée. Aug. 22.
ticularly delighted with those animals which are capable of
exprefsing an attachment to him, and of rélying upon him for
their protection and support. The dog, on account o! the
sensibility he pofsefses in so surprising a degree, is in eve-
ry civilized country a particular favourite of man, inde-
pendently of his utility. ‘The cat, and other small animals,
which admit of being tamed, are more or lefs esteemed
as they pofsefs this quality in a greater or lefs degree of

perfection. .
Among the feathered tribe, some have beck taken into

fayour on account of the sweetnefs of their song; others
on account of the beauty of their plumage, or some other
singularity in their exterior appearance; but the attach-
ment that these animals fhow to their master, is in general
so very slight, that there are but few instances in which
they can lay claim to any degree of favour upon this
ground,

The only instance of any considerable degree of that
sort of attachment, on the part of any of the birds we
know of, is that which is manifested by a bird which
the French call the agamce. This bird is a native of
‘Cayenne in South America, and attaches itself to man,
with as much fidelity and warmth of affection as even a
dog does. If an agamée is admitted into any house,
jt attaches itself to some one person with the utmost fide-
lity, and affords the most unequivocal marks of the plea-
sure it takes in his company. It comes to its master on
ull occasions with evident marks of satisfaction; carefses
him with eagernefs, flies before, or follows after him, and
exprefses, by various motions, the joy it feels at seeing or
accompanying him. It comes readily when called, in
whatever manner it may chance to be engaged at the time:
32 loves to be carefsed, and presents its head:.and neck to
be stroaked by him, with a satisfaction seemingly equal to
that which a eat exprefses in similar circumstances, It

1792+ anecdotes of Adrian Broor. 252
loves to accompany its master at table, and being extreme-
ly jealous, it never fails to drive away, if pofsible, all cats
and dogs, or other animals, that seem to fhare in its mas-
ter’s affection, especially when it is petitioning for food ;
and being fierce and couragious, it seldom fails to succeed.
It is entertaining to see with what art it evades the bite of
a dog, by soaring above his reach, and then darting down
suddenly upon him while he is off his guard. It always
aims his strokes at the eyes, which it attacks both with its
bill and its talons with great fury ; and when it: has.once
obtained a victory, it pursues its enemy with the most’sur-
prising obstinacy, and would never cease tormenting it
till it died, if not prevented.

In fhort, so strong is the attachment this bird fhows to
man, that, in this respect, it seems to hold the same rank
as the dog among quadrupeds, and, in some instances, it
even seems to. approach near to that animal in point of
docility. It is afserted that the agamée can be taught to:
guard a flock of fheep in the same manner as the dog.
Since, then, these birds love domesticity so much, where-
fore fhould we not endeavour to rear them in abundance,
employ them in such uses as they are capable of being put
to, and endeavour still farther to improve their natural in-:
stincts, and render them’ more extensively serviceable. ta:
man ?

a ———

ANECDOTES OF ADRIAN BROOR, A CELEBRATED FLEMISH
PAINTER.

F nz leave to: offer the following anecdotes of Broor, a,

noted Flemith painter, as another instance of the strange

eccentricities of some men of genius.
Adrian Broor, or Brawer, or Brauer, . was born at Qu-

denarde in the year 1608, and died 1640.

252 anecdotes of Adrian Broor. Aug. 22%

Of his parentage nothing is known, only that they were
of the lowest ranks of the people. Without instructor of
any sort, and solely by an irresistible propensity of nature,
Broor, while yet in a manner an infant, used to amuse him-
self in painting birds and flowers, upon small bits of linen ;
and his mother, for a subsistence, sold them to women of
the country, who employed them as ornaments of their drefs.

While he was thus employed, Francis Hals, a famcus
painter, went by chance to the place where the young
Broor lived, and, struck by his rising talents, he proposed
to instruct him. Boor, charmed with this lucky rencoun-
ter, did not hesitate to follow him. But what he looked
upon as extremely fortunate, was to him the source of in-
finite chagrins and disappointment. ‘The avarice of Hals
and his wife instigated them to avail themselves of the
talents of the young unfortunate, whose hard fortune they
seemed to bewail.

As soon as they had him in their power they made him
labour to excefs, and made him almost die of hunger.
Lean and emaciated, he had scarcely the appearance of
a human being; the rags with which he was covered
gave him the appearance of the utmost misery. Whilst he.
himself was in want of the necefsaries of life, the little
pictures at which he worked night and day were sold at a
very great price. The greedinefs of his masters, only in-
creasing in proportion as they found the means to satisfy -
themselves, they fhut him up in a garret, that he might
“be able to produce more works. :

That separation inspired the anxiety or the curiosity
of his companions, disciples of Hals, who watched the mo-
ment of his absence to discover what Broor did in his pri-
son, ‘They went up each in their turn, and, by means of
- a small window, they saw with surprise that this poor and
despised apprentice, wasa great painter, and made very’

402s ancédotes of Adrian Broor. ‘ 253
pretty pictures. One of these young people proposed
to him to paint the five senses at four sous a-piece. Broor
executed them so well, that another asked ef kim the ‘we/we
months of the year at the same price.

Our ‘prisoner thought himself very happy, and conside-
red, as a good fortune, the purchase money of these little
Subjects which he did by stealth, and in some leisure mo-
ments ; but the considerable profits which his works brought
him determined Hals and his wife to watch him so closely
that he thould not havea single minute to dispose of ; these
unconscionable guards, not content with exhausting him
with labour, diminifhed day by day the small pittance
destined for his subsistence.

This dreadful situation was like to drive him to despair,.
when one of his comrades. advised him to make his escape,
and even furnifhed him with the means. Deprived of every.
thing, and almost naked, Broor strayed through the city not
knowing where to go, nor what would behis lot. After ha-
ving wandered a long time, he stopt at the thop of a ginger-
bread baker, and bought as much as fhould serve him all
day, paying for it all the money which he had, and ran to
place himself under the organ of the great church. Whilst
he was there, ruminating in his mind how he fhould get’
into amore comfortable situation, he was recognised by
an intimate friend who took him back to his master, who
had been at much pains to find him, and, overjoyed at re-
covering him, promised to use him better in time to come.

Hals piqued himself upon the performance of his pro-
mise; he bought him a suit of second hand clothes, and
fed hima little better, Broor, thus encouraged, set about
his work with ardour, but always for the proft of his mas-
ter, who sold very dear the pictures which he had for almost ’
nothing. Broor alone was ignorant of his talents, and the’

254 « anecdotes of Adrian Broor. Aug. 25,
resources which they would have procured him. Informed
at last by his comrades of the price of his pictures, he esca_
ped more effectually than the first time, and took refuge in.
the city of Amsterdam, where he arrived without friends or
money. His good stars conducted him to an honest seller
of pictures, who granted him an asylum. One may guels-
with what pleasure Broor learned that his works were
known in Amsterdam, and that they sold for a considerable
price. ;

He would have perhaps doubted it, ifam amateur had not
given him about an hundred ducats for one ofhis pictures.
As soon.as Broor, who had demanded that sum trembling,
saw himself in pofsefsion of so much money, he spread it,
out upon his bed, transported with joy, and rolled himself
upon it.

Ten days pafsed in a debauch with the people of the very:
lowest sort, who soon made him find the bottom of his purse..
He then came back, rejoiced and content, to the picture:
merchant where he lodged, who asking him what he had.
done with his money : “ I have got happily rid of it,” said.
he, ‘‘in order to be more free.”

This alternative between labour and difsipation was his
constant plan of conduct all the rest’of his life. He ne-
ver dreamed of taking the pencil until he had. no more
money. He was continually involving himself in drun-
ken quarrels with the dregs of the populace, after having
drank freely with them. His work fhop was generally.
in an inn, where he was often obliged to send. his works to.
sell to the amateurs, to pay his expence.

Broor gave himself up with such enthusiasm: when: ‘at
work, that he was often heard speaking Spanifh, Italian,
aud French, as if he had been with the persons whom he

was paintiug,

402-0 anecdotes of Adrian Brcor. 295
There is nothing more diverting than the adventures
which Broor met with every day. In one of his rambles
he was stript entirely by robbers. Not having money to
purchase a new wardrobe, he took it into his head to make
himself a habit. of Hnen, on which he painted flowers
in the taste of the Indian robes. The ladies were de-
ceived by it, and were anxious to have a similar stuff and
pattern. Broor contrived, in order to undeceive them, to.
mount a stage at the end of a performance ; and, taking a
spunge soaked with water, he eilaced before their eyes all
the pictures on: his drefs.
Whilst war was entirely desolating Flanders, Broor was
" -very desirous of going to Antwerp. Notwithstanding the
representations of his friends, he could not resist his impa-
tience, and was taken in that city fora spy. Being fhut
up in the citadel, he had there the good forturie to meet
the duke of Aremberg, whom he informed of his _profefsi-
on. The duke, who received sometimes visits from Ru-
bens, begged that great artist to give to a prisoner some
materials and other things wanted tor painting. Rubens
had no sooner cast his eyes on the picture which the pre-
tended spy was making, than he cried out, This is a picture
of Broor’s! and was absolutely for paying him six hun-
dred florins.

Rubens employed all his friends to get Broor out of pri-
son; he even became surety for him, and having obtained
his enlargement, he clothed him, and took care to have
kim lodged, and breight him to his own table. Far from
making a proper return for all these generous cares, Broor
fied precipitately from the house of his illustrious bene-
factor in order to enjoy his liberty.

Broor perceived at length that he was aien by his
relations on account of his ill drefs. Sensible of the marks
of their disdain, he bought a very genteel drefs of velvet.
ne of his cousins seeing him so well equipped, begged him

‘ |

256 anecdotes of Adrian Broor. Aug. 22
‘to come to his marriage. Broor did not fail to be there,
and as during the repast the company praised the good
taste and propriety of the drefs of our painter, he took a
plate filled with sauce, and threw it all upon it, and spoil-
ed at once with the grease all his fine apparel, saying it
ought to enjoy its full fhare of the good chear, since it was
evident it was his drefs alone that was invited, and not him-
self.
After this foolith action, he threw his coat into the fire
in presence of the company, and went and fhut himself up
in an inn, where the pipe and a bottle of brandy supplied
the place of riches and worldly greatnefs,

Tired of being pofsefsed of nothing, Broor retired to the.
house of a baker in Brufsels who had a pretty wife. He
found means to insinuate himself mto the good graces of
both the husband and the wife, a singularity which hap-
pens every day. ‘That baker who also followed the busi-
nefs of a picture dealer, lodged and boarded his new
friend. Broor, im return, taught him to paint, and
did other good offices to the lady. The connection be-
tween these two men was so close, and their characters
were so like, that they were scarcely a moment asundef.
“They even pufhed their disorders so far as to render
themselves liable to legal punifhment; an accident which
obliged them to betake themselves to flight.

Atter having wandered some time, Broor came back to
Antwerp, being reduced to the utmost misery ; he fell il}
there, and had no other asylum than the hospital, where
he died at the end of two days.

Rubens honoured him with his tears, caused his body
to be lifted from the grave where it was buried, and inter-
red it anew with magnificent pomp; the city of Antwerp
raised a fine temb over him.

yy the temple of H ymen, 254

THE TEMPLE OF HYMEN.

In aletter written by a young gentleman of Philadelphia to a
; young “lady.
My bran FRIEND,
Last night I slept, and I-dreamed that I was walking on
@ beautiful spacious plain, in the middle of which stood a
lofty magnificent temple, which appeared to be ancient
and venerable: and though some people advanced in years
who were present, remarked, that it was much decayed
since they had first paid a-visit there ; yet to me, and all
‘young -persons who were ‘in'the single line of life, it apt
peared’ ‘to be the most elegant and beautiful dome we had
ever beheld. As I was admiring it, I saw innumerable
‘crowds of people rufhing forward towards it, in pairs’;
though, Lconfefs, I thought them very strangely coupled 5
as I observed men of fifty, leading nymphs.of fifteen ; and
Rvidows of forty, attended by beaux of twenty-two. I
stepped 'to a person standing near me who belonged to the
place, and afked him what the dome was called. ‘He said
it was calied the:temple of Hymen; “and those you see
prefsing towards it,” continued he, ‘are desirous of being
united in the bands of matrimony; the cause of the dispa-
rity in age, is, that all these are money-matches,” I then
seated myself near the gate ofthe dome, to take a view
of them as.they entered. ‘There appeared in their coun-
tenauces a certain languor and cold indifference; and
many of them, I thought, appeared unhappy; and'the
‘nearer they approached the temple, the more their anxie-
ty seemed to increase. My attention was particularly ta-
‘ken with ahandsome youtlvof about twenty-two years ofage,
who was attending an antiquated maid, who appeared ad-
wanced in life. He seemed to be gloomy and dejected ;
VOL. X. KK i

258 the temple of Hymen. : Apes
and when he-had nearly arrived at the gate were I stood,
he tore himself from her, and fled precipitately, with a
degree of apparent pleasure.
®f felt.a sincere sorrow for.the lady, who:appeared to be
“overwhelmed in the utmost consternation, grief, and an-
ger ; but, my sympathy considerably abated, ~when' the in-
elligent person from whom I had my information respec-
ting the dome, told me, ‘that fhe was a lady of great
wealth, but small accomplifhments. ‘“ She has been
sought after,” said he, “ in her earlier years, by many
who were her superiors in point of merit: but because
they were inferior in fortune, fhe treated them with
the most insolent contempt»; in consequence of which fhe
swas forsaken by the sex, till this youth, falling into difh-
cult circumstances, addrefsed her from pecuniary motives:
and though his addrefses were cold and inanimate through
want of affection, fhe afsented, and this was the appoint-
ed day for celebrating the nuptials: -but as he. approached
the temple, a weight.of anxiety pervaded -his breast, ana
a struggle between the laws of honour, and a regard for
this own felicity, rent his troubled heart with torture ; till
at length, his feelings.overcame-every other consideration.
He violated the laws of honour,—he opposed the impulse
of interest, rather than be bound in the lasting tyrannical
chains of an unhappy matrimonial union.” ‘She is not te
be pitied,’ said I, ‘.fhe has.slighted the offers of generous
Jove :—the has ‘sported with the feelings of her real ad-
mirers :———fhe has trifled with human happinefs; and
has met-with her reward: yet had I been her judge, I
dhould, from a delicacy. for the sex, inflicted a smaller pu-
nifhment.’
_ The crowd that had entered the temple, were unitefl
by words, but not-in heart; and then they,returned

792.. the temple of Hymen. 259
to their habitations, to wrangle out their lives in as much
harmony as they could.

Next appeared a giddy throng, whether greater or are
ler than the other, I was not able to discover. They
were on the same errand, but acted from different mo-
tives, if motives they could be called. They. appear-
ed to be the thoughtlefs children of difsipation, and en-
tered this solemn scene, with as little reflection as they
use in every other action of life. They appeared to have
chosen their companions, just as chance or fancy directed,
without any regard to merit, or similarity of dispositi-
on. They came, were united, and returned all jovial,
airy, and.chearful, as if they were ai a blifsful para-
dise..

“Ah thoughtlefs mortals” said I, “ how soon will. your
fancied bloom be nipped in the bud!. your idle dreams of
pleasure will vanifh as the morning dew, and you join the
disappointed marriage train, in expatiating onjthe uninter-
‘supted pleasures of cetibacy.”

Next appeared a-small. company moving _ towards us
‘slowly, and with graceful.easy pace ; their countenances
were neither clouded with gloom, nor distorted with levi-
ty ; but sweet complacency sat easy smiling on each fea-
ture, proceeding from. a well grounded -hope, that the
most elevated degree of human ielicity, would.be the re-
sult of the union into which they were about to enter...
But imagine my #erprise, when I saw among this happy -
number my friend Maria.. She. was, attended by a most
engaging, accomplilhed youth ; his eyes were piercing and
lively, his features strong, manly, and regular ; his man-
nerg graceful and easy, and. I discovered in his aspect, the
strongest traits of an’ardent, noble, disinterested, and gene-
rous affection. He behaved towards my friend with the
most polite, engaging, tender attention; his kindnefs to..

260 the temple of Hymen. Aug. 2%.
wards her seemed altogether involuntary, and as natural to
him as to-breathe the air. ‘‘ You seem surprised,” said my
intelligent “ friend, on seeing your amiable acquaintance at
the temple of Hymen, but I can afsure you fhe never had
any objections to matrimony, provided fhe could meet
a partner pofsefsed of such accomplifhments as fhe con-
ceived necefsary to render her happy in a married
life; hér sentiments on this subject were indeed so fer
refined, as to border on the romantic ; this fhe always
found to be the case, till addrefsed by the amiable young
gentleman who now attends her. They were immediately
attached to each other by the indifsoluble ties of genuine
affection, under the benign influence of which they are to
live a most serene and happy life.” O supremely blest
pair ! exclaimed I, and in a transport of joy awoke, but
behold it was a dream. Axonzo.

On receiving the above, the lady wrote to Alenzo, re.
sretting that his slimbers had terminated so abruptly, and
wifhing they had continued till the tompletion of the uni-
on, on which he sent her the following lines :

When, Jo! methought, I stood with heart elate,
Near to the Hy mencean temple’s gate,
Where late I saw with exquisite delight
‘Vhe tair Maria led by Mr Wright:
Light fancy paints the recent sceze anew,
And brings the happy pair befaye my views
‘i hey to tne palace door with Pleasure move,
A pleasure wafted on the wings of love; .
‘A blifs which sordid souls have never known, ,
, Who feel nor woes, nor biefsings not their own;
for those light thoughtlefs souls whg never prove
‘he sweet uniting charms of gen’rous love.
At ieng‘h arriv’d, th’ attentive Cupid waits,
‘Lo bring the happy pair within the gates ;
He view’d them oer; —he stopt with strange surprise,
‘Po sce vuch beauties beaming trom their eycs5
The sly young rogue, with wonder stood to g.ze:
“ On heppy pair!” he cried in fond amaze 5

4

1792.

the temple of Hymen. 264
*¢ Oh happy pair! walk in, the god invites 5

_ ¢€ Walk in,—receive the matrimonial rites.

‘

© You for each other surely were design’d,

*< So'like in each accomplifhment of mind:
“© Your hearts are join’d, walk in and join your hands
<¢ Tn matrimonial beatific bands.”
‘Then to the sacred fhrine the pair he led,

The rev’rend god with wonder rais’d-his head 5
For many years had pafs’d since he had spied

So kind a bridegroom, or so fair a bride.

Then sweet melodious music fill’d the dome,
And op’n'ng rotes fhed a rich perfume 4

The hoary monarch gaz’d with fond delight,
Then on the happy pair conferr’d the rite;

Th’ attending crowd the nuptial anthem sings $

*¢ Thrice happy pair’’’ the echoing, temple rings;
6¢ Thrice happy pair! your choice we well approve,
«All hail! and welcome to the dome of love!
© You from each other’s love and peerlefs worth,
¢ Shall find a b1'{sful paradise on earth,”

Then to a garden Cypid led the way,

Where fragrant fiow’rs were drefs’d in rich array’
A happy train whom love and peace surround,
Their heads with beauteous flow’ry garlands crown’d 5
Here pafs’d away their lives in peace and eases
To plesse each other was themselves to pleasce

A silver rill descending from its source,

In mazy windings tools its peaceful course +

It added beauty to the pleasing scene,

find‘ cloth’d the garden in perpetual green,

The place was shaded by the flow’ry trees,

And fann’d by zephyrs in a gentle breeze,
Which wafted on their wings a rich perfume,
Exhal’d from roses in eternal bloom 5

The charming songsters on the blofsom’d sprays,
Attun’d'in rapt’rous melody tHeir lays.

The happy train thus pafs’d their hours away,
From rising morning till the ev’ning grey

Her curtain draws, and the bright source of light
Yields his dominion to the queen of night;

As o'er the world the silent darknefs grows,

The purling rill with softer murmur flows:

No jarring sounds the peaceful tribe molest,

But falling waters lull their souls to rest.

Our happy pair were welcom’d in with joy,
While tuneful airs the fkilful choir employ 5
Their utmost kill the joyful bands display,
In‘celebrating this important day;

So strong and loud grew the exulting strains,
They broke my sileat slumber’s silken chains;

T woke, difsolv’d in extacy supreme; i

May heaven indulgent realize the dream!

262 literary intelligence. Aug. 22.

LITERARY INTELLIGENCE.

"Tue 'study of natural history has made great progrefs in
Scotland of late, and the lover of that interesting study -
pofsefses advantages here which he did not formerly enjoy.
A few years ago there was not in this place a single collecti-
on of specimens in natural history, public or private, that
' deserved to be Noticed. Since Dr Walker was appointed.
profefsor, and read lectures on the subject, things have ta-
kena great.change. His own museum, for a private col-
lection, contains a great variety of beautiful specimens, in
high preservation, of animals, vegetables, and minerals..
Lord Gardenston has imported from abroad, and picked
up at home, aselect and valuable collection, chiefly in the
mineral. kingdom, to which the amateurs in that science
have a most ready accefs by the obliging liberality of spi-
rit of the owner. And the museum of Mr Weir, which
has been exhibited for some years past, has been a valuable
acquisition to the public. That gentleman, with a public
spirit that would do honour to the highest character, con-
tinues to make daily additions to his collection , which,.
considering his station in life, is truly amazing, and which
nothing but a decided taste for that study could have pro-
duced. He has lately purchased a house in Prince’s street
and fitted it up in the most elegant manner for the re-
ception of his museum, which he has just opened for the
public. This will afford an agreeable and instructive mor-
ning’s lounge to the people of fafhion who reside in Edin-
burgh.

Mr Weir’s museum, cannot, it is true, in point of sxe,
be compared with that of Sir Athton Lever, and many o-
thers that might be named, but in respect to the natural
attitudes in which the animals are placed, and their per-

1762. anecdotes. . 263
fect preservation, it is far bevond them all. Lord Gar-
denston, in his travelling memorandums, remarks, that
after having seen the finest collections of natural history
in’ France, ‘Italy, and Germany, he had found none in
__ which the objects were so naturally disposed, or so per-

fectly preserved, as in that of Mr Weir. His birds and
fithes especially deserve particular notice. ‘The fifhes re-

-

tain the plumpnefs and the frefhnefs of -natare, without
any thing of that dried, fhrivelled appearance-so usual in
other collecticns; nor ever lose any thing of it. And as
to birds Mr Weir pofsefses the-rare secret of curing them,
so as to’remain entirely free of vermin of every sort.
Br Walker ‘has at present in his collection, birds which
were prepared by Mr Weir upwards of thirty years-ago,
whose plumage is as frefh and glofsy as that day they
were killed ; and Mr Weir with. confidence afserts, that
they will -contmue so for ages. How different this
from the birds in the Britifh, and-every other -muse-
um in Europe! What.a-pity that a secret-of such smgu-
Jar utility fhould be confined to one man! Why do not
the public purchase it from him, for the general improve-
ment of science in every part of the globe ? Mr Weir is a
man of too liberal principles .to with-hold it upon reason-
able terms ; but-it is not to be expected that .2 man whe
is not im affluent circumstances, fhould part-with a thing
of that nature without a proper compensation.

ANECDOTES OF ALPHONSO KING OF ARRAGON.
Tuis trait of his liberality is well known. One of -his
treasurers had brought him a sum of ten thousand ducats.
An officer who was there at that time, said in a low voice
to somebody, I fhould ask no more than that sum to _be

happy: you /hall be so, said. Alphonso who had heard him,

264 ’ to correspoudents, Aug. 22...
and he made the ten thousand ducats be given to him di-
rectly.

He had gone with some of his courtiers to see the jew-
els.of a jeweller. He was scarcely out of his fhep whenthe
merchant came running after him to complain of a theft
they had made of a diamond of great value. - Alphonso,
went back tothe shop of the merchant, and having made.
him bring a large jar filled with bran, -he ordered.that
each of his courtiers fhould put in their hand fhut and,
bring it eut open. He began first. After’they had all
done he ordered the jeweller to empty the jar on the table :
by this means the diamond was fouud and .nobody difho-
noured.

\ =——_—_

Alphonso used to say, that among so many things that
men pofse is, or that they seek after with ardour during
the course. of their life, allis but vain amusement, except
-dry and old wood to burn, old wine to.drink, .old friends
to converse with, and old books to read. )

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

Tue Editor returns thanks to the gentleman who has taken the trouble
of transcribing an article from the tale a@ tetes, Is, much obliged to-him
for his kind intentions, and liberal offer of afs'stance. But is sorry he
cannot avail himself of his kind offer. The Bee fhall never be so far pro-
stituted as to become the vehicle ofiscandal and lubricity.

The Editor is much obliged to Mr S s§ Ne for his-good opi-
nion and kind hints; which fhall be duly attended to. The Index indice-
toricus has been on!y deferred for a time, from circumstances which will
soon have no longer any influence, when it thall be ref{umed, if the rea=
cers in general seem to think it agreeable: some readers objected to the
list of booke, which they thought occupied more room that it was worth.

The observations by D. X, are received. Gencral remarkson manpers,

- where no personal allusions are made, will-be very acceptable.

Jnsfartiality 4s received, and under consideration.

Several pizces deferred for-swant of room.

ao

Sg.

THE BEE,

LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER,

FOR

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST-29. 1792.

OF TASTE IN ARCHITECTURE.
Continued from p. 239.
Sir, fo the Editor of the Bee.

J nave fhown ‘the progrefs of architecture from its

simplest forms in the infancy of society to the rude,
but magnificent efforts of superstition, toerect temples

‘to the invisible power of heaven; and J now proceed
‘to consider it under the influence of vanity and es~-
‘tentation in the ages of luxury and refinement.

This last and copious subject of my efsay, natu-

rally divides itself into the consideration of those im-

provements which arose from the vanity, pride, and

-ostentation of princes, in the erection of public edi-
fices, and of those which in later times have sprung
from the wealth of private individuals.

In the beginning, almost all the wealth of nations

was accumulated in the state. The nation, or, in
‘other words, the prince, was very rich, and the people
‘very poor; neither commerce nor manufactures,
mor the plunder of provinces by rapacious governors,

VOL. X. LL

266 on taste in architecture. | Aug. 29.
nor the right of primogeniture, nor the accumulation
of property by marriage or collateral succefsion, had
rendered private individuals capable of erecting last-
ing monuments of taste and magnificence.

The whole revenues of the commonwealth, that
could be saved from the exigencies of government,
were employed either in the building of stately
temples in honour of the gods, or in defraying the
expence of public roads, bridges, aqueducts, or plea-~
sing the populace by the celebration of spectacles
and games, to feed the vanity of the public or of
the prince. The extinct empire of middle Asia
seems to have been the first that erected durable

_monuments of architectural grandeur ; and as in the
remains of these, lately contemplated by the truly
learned and excellent Sir William Jones, in the neigh-
bourhood of Bombay, and at Benares in Jndostan,
‘we perceive the semblance of the manners, drefs, re-
ligion, customs, and architecture, of the Gothic and
Scythian nations ; so we may fairly conjecture that
all sciences and arts have followed the course of the
natural day.

Averting our eye with a respectful smile, from
the calculations of Mr Bailli on the antiquity of
these nations, let us call curselves home to objects of
contemplation where we have better guides. ‘* They,
(writes the ingenious Mr Riou) who, to judge of
the origin of acustom or of an art, and of its pafsage
from one people to another, adhere to the mere con-
templation of any detached circumstances which may
offer certain appearances of likenefs, and thus, from
some particular. equivocal forms, draw their conclu-

———

X72. on taste in architecturé. ~ 264
sions about the generality of an art, are grofsly de-
ceived.” It is certain that Egypt was to the Greeks,
what Greece afterwards became to the Romans, the
pattern of imitation ; the nursery of legislators, phi-
losophers, and artists. The language, manners, and
“eustoms of the Greeks, sufficiently fhow that they
were a Scythian. or eastern. people ; and nothing but
vague hypothesis can invite the belief that the con-
quering emigrants brought any thing along with
them but their language, their superstition and cus-
toms, hunger and their arms, into Europe, then
peopled by wandering hordes of savages and covered
with marfhes and forests. How many centuries elap-
sed from the settlement of the first colonies of the
Hellenic Greeks, until the first dawn of history,
it is impofsible with any degree of accuracy even to
eonjecture ; but we know with certainty, that, while
the Greeks were barbarous, the arts flourifhed in the
city of Thebes, and that they were of immemorial
antiquity in Egypt.

The fable of the Troglodytes and a subterranean
nation, appears evidently to be founded on the pri-
meval custom of man’s fheltering himself from dan-
ger and the inclemencies, of the weather, zm’ caves and
dens of the earth.

Man, endowed with reason and progrefsive powers
of improvement, which is denied to every other ani-
mal, would, when roused from his sluggifh nature,
go to the wild beast of the ficld and consider his ways
and be wise ; he would first fhelter himself in natural
‘cavities of the earth, and afterwards make excavations
for himself, Many of these primeval dwellings are

268: on taste in architecture: Ags 29%.

yet to be seen in the vicinity of Thebes, and] believe
in all the anciently inhabited regions of the earths.
In various parts of Britain these Troglodytic villages

are to be seen, and particularly in Leicesterfhire,.
where subterraneous accommodations have been dis-

covered fit to contain some hundred families; and.
such are not uncommon, in Scotland, though on 2
smaller scale. These were the habitations of what:
the Greeks would have called the Autochthonoi of.
Britain ; a people who, by Scythian and Belgic invas.
sions, were driven into the. fastnefses of Wales and:
of Caledonia.

In the obelifk and pyramid’ of Egypt, we behold:
the hydrometer. of:the Nile, and the emblem of that:
luminary without which the waters would have been.
fatal to the fruits of the earth. Inthe ruins of their.
palaces and temples, we behold a rude magnificence,,
unsubjected to any elegance of taste ; nor are the. ele-.
ments of Egyptian architecture, any farther than as.
they are founded on nature, discernible in the Greek;
It is not probable, therefore, that the Greeks copied’
in their buildings the architecture of the Egyps.
tians. They had nothing to copy in the manners. of
the savages whom they found in the country ; and,.
therefore, we are to look for the elements of Greek
architectufe in that beautiful nature which they saw
every where around them. in that garden of Eus.
rope.

‘Mr Riou in treating of the Grecian orders of
architecture, has likewise very pertinently observed
that the Greeks ‘“‘ had scarcely the opportunity of
becoming plagiarists of the Egyptians ;, because bes.

LIQ an taste in architecture. 269)
fore the reign of Psamettichus, entrance was denied
to every stranger, and the art of architecture had
been then cultivated by the Grecians.”

Besides, in studying the beautiful remains of temples
in Greece, a progrefs from the rude models of the
highest antiquity, to the perfection of the art in the
age immediately preceding the Macedonian conquest,
is plainly discernible ; after which the false taste for
internal, and finally external, ornament on thecapitals,.
freezes, and architraves, of columns, and the pedi-
ments of the porticoes of their temples, marked the
consequences of Asiatic conquest and luxury, by the:
introduction of fastidious and corrupt ornament,

With respect to the architecture of the Romans,,
it was originally borrowed from Greece, but at a
time when Rome was not sufficiently wealthy to,
vie with them in magnificent structures..

Before:the. accefsion of Augustus to the supreme
power, Rome was chiefly composed of brick or wood=
en houses; and these having no party walls, were ex-
posed continually to the ravages of fire. Few of the
houses were insulated or separate from others, and’
these in general were temples or public edifices;
and great structures for public meetings, were so
few, that we observe the temples were generally
used upon solemn occasions, and even frequently. for

‘ the afsemblies of the senate.

With respect to the houses of the private citizens
in town, they appear to have been very simple, and
modest, and seldom elevated above one range of apart-.
ments ; though. when luxury and caprice began to
insinuate themselves after the end of the Carthagi-

240 on taste in architecture. Aug. 29
nean war, mutatoria or change-houses were common
for variety, and these in the suburbs, which were
succeeded by elegant villas im the country.

But the multiplicity of these houses and villas
Jed to their being composed of flimsy materials, and
not constructed for extensive duration.

The earliest writers in Italy after the fall of the
Roman empire, give us. no accounts of the ruins of
rural magnificence, though they speak much of the
beauty and amcenity of the situations where they
had formerly existed. In fhort there were greater
captains than Marlborough, but no Blenheims in
Italy, and still lefs in Greece. All great magnificence
was dedicated to the gods and to the public. Noble
example worthy of imitation! ,

Neither does it appear that before the empire of
Augustus, any temples of extraordinary or durable
magnitude or splendour had existed at Rome; and

hardly had a taste for beautiful structures been estas .

blifhed by the munificence of the usurper, than. it bes
came vitiated by the caprice of redundant decoration.
Of this we ‘are afsured by the authority of Vitru-
vius.

Tacitus too, that great historian of a declining age,
‘whose faults in style have been afsiduously copied by
Mr Gibbons, and other writers of these times, who
are thought to belong to an age and country of ade
vancing taste and improvement, informs us, that
after the battle of Actium, the P/a/sey of the Romana
arms, when a visible decline of free sentiment appear-
ed among the Romans, it extended itself (as it were)
‘to the understandings of individuals, whence learning

—_—-S

2992. on.taste in architecture. ‘291
and all the fine arts which had flour:fhed to admixa-
tion, and for so long a period in Greece and Italy,
fell into disrepute, and were overwhelmed by Asiatic
barbarisms, and the whims of extraordinary and
sudden influx of wealth from the plunder of the pro-
vinces. Thus you see the age of fine taste in archi-
tecture, either by invention or imitation, in Greece
or in Italy, extended only to the continuance of five
or six centuries. All before or after is one blank or
blot in the annals of art or of literature. Methinks
I hear the voice of ages crying aloud to nations,
‘* Discite libertatem, moniti non adorare reges.”
Sensible Sir, of the respectable prejudices of great
men, I exprefs myself with caution in an unknown
language. It is fit that men who pretend to have
taste fhould not fhock the eyes or ears of the elegant
elohims of the earth.

As it seems desirable, that every individual who
pretends to be what was formerly understood by the
appellation of a gentleman, and who are now called
esquires, fhould be acquainted with the -construction
of the houses of ancient Rome, before they became
accommodated to foreign luxury, I fhall endeavour,
in very few words, and without the interposition of
quotation or of foreign languages, to describe with
Englith phrase and idiom, the places of abode of the
more wealthy citizens, who had obtained high and
lucrative employments in the commonwealth.

After the frequent fires that had destroyed whole
quarters of the city, and particularly after the gene~
ral conflagration that occurred in the reign of Nero,
the streets which before that time had been as nare

242 on taste in architecture. - Aug. 2.
row as they are now in grand Cairo, and other eas-
tern cities, were made wide and spacious ; and
the houses which had formerly been constructed of
wood or brick were built of stone ; and at certain in-
tervals, it was enacted that there fhould be insulated
houses surrounded with courts or gardens, to prevent
the communication of fire for the future. The com-
mon approach to houses of eminence, was through a
quadrangular court, sometimes surrounded by piaz-
zas, ‘o defend the. guests or visitors from the weather,
and leading to the principal front ; annexed to which
there was adarge portico, to which there immediate-
ly adjoined a salloon, which ‘they called a seat room,
as being that used for dinner, where they lay to eat
on beds, three or sometimes four to a bed; which cus-
tom, during the prevalent fafhion of beards, must have
exhibited, especially in the use of spoon meat and
‘liquors, many very visible and inconvenient acci-
dents. Beyond the dining room was the servants
waiting room, whereall accommodations for the butler
and slaves in waiting were provided, and where. at
all times there were slaves to give notice to their
afsociates of any call made upon them by the family,
supplying in early times the want of bells which
-are now-used for that purpose. In this large anti-

chamber were commonly placed in niches or other-

wise, the statues of their ancestors, or of illustricus
citizens ; and in one such of these, supposed to be
the house of Asinius Poltio, was discovered by exca-
vature the wonderful groupe of Laocoon and his
sons.

=

a

7H 2s on taste in architecture. , 28:

The length of the saloon was generally double that
of its breadth, and the height was equal to the latter, .
when the nature of the building would permit.

On the right hand of the saloon were the other:
apartments of the family, either for state or retire-
ment, for amusement or repose; and on the left the:
servants apartments. As to wine it-was buried in
large vefsels,. some of them containing a: quantity
equal to our pipe,.inm subterraneous apartments,,or
simply in the earth, excavated and rammed full again:
with sand. In the country their accommodations.
were much more numerous and.extensive.. They
had apartments for all the varying seasons of the
year, some with stoves for the winter, and others for
only. admitting an extraordinary degree of solar heat
and light, in spring-and: autumn; reserving the.cool.
subterraneous vaulted apartments, with.small win-.
dows, for the heats of sammer,.-.

Thus far with respect to the houses of the ancient
Romans. In my-next, I thall endeavour to trace the
Juxury.of the moderns, and. subject \it- to the rules
and criticism of clafsic.elegance ;; without -pretend-.
ing to offer any. opinions: of my» own, or: venturing -
to excite the vengeance of the moderns.against an
admirer of the Greeks.. I am, Sir,

Your humble servant; .

B.A.

~

MM.

VOL. X.

DBUN-0-DEER FIG. I.

; I,
WMT

m

| Wh |
GROUND PLAN OF THE HILL OF DUN-O-DELK, WITH
THE FORTIFICATIONS ON IT.

Rent Mr at =

‘SNOILF D1a1Lw0m ONY TIrH

TATHSNIVOVIRY 'xTTd-0-NaT wo
TEL dO MITA HEYON

q

“SNOLLF OFAILNOI ONY TTIW FHL AO ATA L

Wag ° cae:

Pg

1% He
i WD
Wi

Yi,

57925 © antiquities in Scotland. 2"9
tention of which is not quite so obvious ;. although
IT think it probable that they also were meant for
-defence, Two of these are found between -the cir-
secular rampart to the east, anc the vitrified wall at
EE fig.\1. These hollowsmay be about five or fix feet
deep, with an easy and smooth descent to the bottom
from all-sides. The hill is, at this piace, only ofa
-gentle declivity, which would render the works
more difficult to be defended than where it was more
steep. ‘Fhis gives room to conjecture that these
cavities might either: be intended to screen the de-
fendants' on ordinary occasions, from the mifsile
weapons of the enemy, by way of-a guard-house, or
-to conceal a body of men by way of ambuscade. Up-~
-on examining the face of the hill,along the east side,
where ‘the ditch of circumvallation ‘runs along a
more level surface than at.any other, part-of the hill,
-and where, of course, it’ was-much more liable to be
forced, four more excavations of the same kind are
‘discovered, which are marked beyond CC; nor could [
perceive any more of the same kind, on any other
part of the hill, save two on the westside, marked
4 Gig. 1. & 2. and EE ég. 3. I leave others to con.
“jecture what may have been the intention of these
hollows, For although I do not forget.that fame
thas placed gold in the bowels of this mountain,
which might have induced some persons to diz
in search of these imaginary treasures, yet there
-seems to be little reason to suppose that these cavi-
ties have been formed by that means, as they are
greatly too wide for. their depth, and as the rubbith
that has been taken out of them, has .been carricd

st a antiquities in Scotland. _ Aug. 29s
clear away, which, it is natural to think, would have
been tumbled carelefsly down this hill from the
mouth of the hole, had they been opened only in
search of treasure.

It has been said, that these vitrified walls are no
where to be found but where the rock on which they
stand, is of the plumb-pudding kind ; but this I can
afsure you. is a mistake. The hill of Tap-o-noath
consists chiefly of small fragments of rotten granite ;
that of Dun-o-deer is a mafs of slaty iron gravel.

Many other vitrified fortifications have been disco-=
vered in Scotland, several of which I myself have
examined ; but I fhall here only specify one more;
because of some peculiarities there observed, that
tend to throw some farther light on the nature of
these structures.

For many years past. philosophers have been a-
hunting after volcanoes in every part of the globe,
and the slightest appearance of vitrified matter has
been by many accounted the most undoubted proof
of a volcanic origin. Hence a general pre udice
prevails among those who have not examined these
structures themselves, that their origin can only be
attributed to that cause. I have already mentioned
several circumstances, that, to the intelligent reader,
will afford full conviction that these can only have
been works of.art ; but one circumstance, which af-
fords a yet clearer proof of it than any of those al-
ready adduced, I had occasion to observe at the hill
of Finbaven, in the fhire of Angus, about six miles
north from the town of Forfar; on the top of which

1792. antiquities in Scotland. 279
there are the remains of an extensive fortification of
this sort.

Here, as usual, the vitrified wall seevetlids 2 level
atea on the top of the hill, running all round in an
irregular form, so as to be every where on the edge
of the precipice of the hill. Nothing uncommon is
‘discoverable in the appearance of the walls, unlefs in
one place, where the farmer, who occupies the hill
and the fields around it, had opened up a free stone
quarry, which he had accidentally discovered on the
side of the hill near to the top of it, out of which he
dug free stone for the purpose of inclosing his
farm. In pursuing the course of the quarry, he
came at length to undermine the foundations of the
wall, when part of it tumbled down, and laid open
the internal structure of that wall, which exhibited
phenomena considerably different from any J had hi-
therto observed.

That part of the vitrified wall which remained
| there, when I visited it in the year 1788, consisted
of irregular horizontal streaks, Tcannot’call themstra-
: ‘ta, of vitrified matter, and unvitrified stone, inter-
mingled alternately between one another. These

vitrified streaks were, as I said, irregular, and ~had
evidentally been produced by some cause that acted

-by fits and starts, and had no cofnection with the na-
‘ture of the materials of which the wall had been
made, as this consisted of a congeries of stones, of va-
ious sorts and sizes, that had ‘been carelefsly thrown
‘together, that were evidentally of the same nature in

| ‘the parts that’ were vitrified, and in those that were
‘only more or lefs scorched, - Sometimes one part of

230° antiquities in Scotland, Aig. 195
a stone was entirely vitrified, and another part.of it
unvitrified through every part of the wall.

__ This phenomenon. most: clearly proves, that* the
vitrification itself was. not. a.voleanie production,
but a-work of art. And the free: stone. quarry, be-
low the foundation of the wall, is the clearest de-
monstration, that the-hill itself on. which the fort.
stands, is not formed by a. volcano; for free stone has.
never yet, that I. know of, been suspected to be of a
volcanic origin.

The appearance of the. heart of this broken down
wall, so exactly resembled:that-of a lime kiln I once
saw, that:had been in part vitrified during the bur-
ning of it, that it immediately occurred to me, that
the phonomena in both cases might be attributed to -
a similar cause.—In the lime kiln, the lime stone:be-
ing very much mixed with sand, and consequently
very. vitrescible, there were irregular: horizontal.
layers,.or streaks of yitrified matter, with spaces
more. or lefs between, in which some. part of the-
stone had:not.been so. much burnt: as. to be capable
of falling down into lime, with the addition of wa-
ter, while other parts. of it’ fell.down into lime, so-
that it remained a. mixed mafs, exactly, resembling;
the other, .

The cause of this phenomenon in’ the: lime: kiln, .
we well know was the irregularity in the force of-
the winds. that. prevailed during the time the kiln:
was burning. When the wind was: very high, it:
acted as. a bellows upon the fuel put among the-
stones for the purpose of calcining them, and by con--
sequence, it burnt then with so much force as to,

1792+. antiquities in Scotland. 293
vitrify the whole mafs that was on fire at the time ;
but as only a small part of the fuel in a lime kiln is
on fire at one time, the fire ascending gradually as
the fuel is.consumed, from the;bottom to the top, if
the weather was calm the day after a high wind,
the fuel burnt them much more slowly ;_ so that the
part of the stone immediately above the vitrified
layer was not sufficiently burned. Thus it happened
that the irregularity of the weather produced the
disagreeable effects already described. In like man-
‘ner might the fuel that was applied for the purpose ,
of vitrifying these walls, be alternately blown up in-
to a melting flame, by the force of a high wind one
day, and suffered to burn slowly during a succeeding
calm day, or more, so as to act then with so little
force -upon the stones, as not to melt them at all.
According to this hypothesis, it would seem pro-
‘bable that the fuel had been here intermixed with the
stones in building the wall, which does not seem to
have been the case with any of the others I obser-
‘ved. But on this head, the facts are not so clear as
‘to enable us to speak with certainty: probable conjec-
ture is all that can be here offered.

On the whole, respecting these structures, the on-
ly particular that seems to be with undeniable cer-
tainty ascertained is, that they are not volcanic pro-
ductions, but clearly works of art, that have been
calculated for some sort of defence against the at-~
-tacks of afsailing foes. ; Tabi

VOL, X, : NN +

294 ‘grammatical disquisitions. Aug. 29;

GRAMMATICAL DISQUISITIONS.
Continued from p. 245.

Of casEs, and particularly of that peculiarity in the
Englifh language which has been usually called the

genitive case.

To give an idea of what is meant by CASE to a mere
Englifh reader is not very easy. He will observe
that nouris may be considered as connected with the
different objects that can affect them, in a great
many points of view. A MAN may walk ¢o or from
a place, he may be placed above or below it, he may
go before or behind another, he may talk of, he may
converse with, he may be affected dy another man.
If we could suppose that the noun had a particular
Variation to denote each of these relations, and all
the others of the same kind that can occur, these va-
riations would be called casEs.

Merely from the announcing of these particulars,
it will be obviors to the most superficial observer,
that this peculiarity of language cannot be deemed
efsential. It is indeed so little necefsary that many
languages have no variation whatever. respecting
this particular; nor is there any language that has
perhaps a tenth part of the variations of this kind,
in other words casEs, that would be required.
Yet so much are we attached to the practice that
has been incidentally adopted by the Greeks or Latins,
that most of our grammars continue to enumerate
the casE as an efsential variatggn of the noun,

1792. grammatical disquisitions. 275
Wherever a partiality of this kind prevails, trifles
are often magnified into matters of importance ;' and
subjects which would be plain of themselves, if not
warped by system, become the cause of long and intri~-
-eate discufsions. On this principleithas happened that
our. grammarians, however much they may. differ as
‘to other particulars, have all concurred in acknow-.
ledging that the Englith nouns admit of a particular
‘inflection, which. they. in general. have: denomina--
ted a genitive case, or at least'a particular: case. of the:
Englith noun. I doubt if this distinction is. well:
founded, for: the following reasons..

For though it be allowed that in the Englifh lan--
guage, there is a certain clafs of.words, evidently de--
-rived from nouns by. a particular. inflection, which
words have the same meaning, in certain circum--
stances, as the genitive’ case of the Latins, such as:
Yobn’s staff, and William's house ;:in which: phrases
the words .Fohbn’s:and William’s are equivalent to the:
phrases ef John or of William; and. as the preposi-.
tion of, in Englifh, is in general the: translation of
“the Latin genitive, it has: been.concluded that, as that:
| preposition can be:supprefsed, and the same meaning.
conveyed by adding to the noun an apostrophised ” Ty
that this forms a.true and genuine inflected genitive:
cases.

Dr Lowth, however; sensible: of the difficulties:
-that accompany this. hypothesis, has» hesitated about:
‘adopting the phrase genitive, and wifhes rather to»

call it the pofsef/sive: case ; but. this. rather tends. to»
augment instead. of removing the difficulties, as- Ti
fhall have occasion to fhow in the sequel..

276 ‘ grammatical disquisitionss Aug. 29%

ast. On the hypothesis that the particular: clafs of
words above named are real inflected genitives, it would
be difficult to afsign a reason why one clafs of Englith
nouns fhould admit of this. peculiar inflection and not
the whole.. In those languages which admit of cases
in general we find no such distinction; but in Eng--
lith, the words: holine/s, significance, dependance, dili--
gence,, exposure, numbnefs,. idlenefs, chilinefs, entice
ment, arrangement, intricacy, discordancy, and thou-.
sands of others, amounting perhaps. to nearly one-
half the nouns in the language, admit not of any in-
flected genitive at all: Whence, it might be afked,.
arises: this peculiarity? I fhall have occasion to solve:
this difficulty. in a future part: of this efsay, though:
it seems to be impofsible to solve it:on the fore men--
-tioned hypothesis.

2d. If there. be no other reason for-calling the pars-
ticular clafs.of Englifh. words. here mentioned, the.
genitive case of the nouns. from which they: are-ob-.
viously derived, but- merely. that: they have in ge-.
neral the-same sense as the noun; without variation, .
with the word of ‘prefixed to them, we fhall find that:
many: other words. havea claim: to bes admitted into-

the clafs: of Englith genitives besides those~ usually; ...

vanked in this-clafs. Indeed the words having, that
genitive. signification *, (and the same. might. be said:

* Tbeg the reader will not here think that J-adopt as: my own, the
ideas given-in thetext. JT:am» fully sensible of theimpropriety, to ex--
prefs it in no stronger language, of forming. our idea of cases in the-man--
ner here explained, Iscnly mean to give a candid representation of the
mode, of reasoning that has been adopted by Engl. th. grammarians in gene=
ralion this:subject ;, and E Lope it will be found that I.do it very fairly in.
the. texts.

WAH grammatical disquisitionss my
of the pofsefsive) are so numerous, and afsume-se:
many different forms, that’ it would. be a laborious
tafk to enumerate the whole. LIhere only offer a:
specimen of a few.
The following words afsume this genitive: signifi-
eation without any change at. all of the noun: mar-
‘riage-contract, spade-foaft, gun-barrel,. mill-wheel,
hat-band, sword-blade, church-yard, day-break, cart-
load,. doomsday-book ;. to. which might. be added
many others.
Notefsentially different in form from:these, with:
a similar genitive signification, are. the words, /bip-
builder, candle-maker, watch- maker, sugar-baker, soap-
’ Boiler, and others. of the same clafs.
It appears under. a different.form: in the. word’
Erench-man, Englifb-man, Scots-man, &c..
Another Variety of this clafs are the words High
lander, Lowlander, Londoner, Commoner, Laplander.
Still more different in form, but with the same ge--
nitive: signification: it-appears in the words Dane;
Ru/fs, Swedé, &c.;.and'\in Lombard, Spaniard, Savoy-
ard; as also, Itahan,, Biseayan, German; Persian;
and in Gegevese, Fapanese, Chinese, Turk, Few, Sa-
moyed,.Levite, Facobite, Barnabite, cum multis aliis.
3d. Our grammarians,. who have. in some instan--
ces so readily bestowed the name. of genitives on a
particular clafs of words, derived from some of:our
nouns by one mode of inflection,.and refused to give
that name to other words derived.from our nouns. by
“any other: inflection, have, in other cases, banithed,.
from the rank of nouns entirely, other words which.
have a similar genitive signification, that are de~

278 grammatical disquisitions. Aug. 29»-
tived from our nouns by another mode of inflection,.
calling them, not nouns, but adjectives. Of this kind’
fare some of the words ubove enumerated; as also.
the words brazen, wooden, golden, &c. which sig+
nify nearly the same thing as of gold, of brafs, of
wood. Thus, a golden crown, is equivalent to a
crown of gold; a brazen trumpet to a trumpet of
brafs ; a wooden mallet to a mallet of wood. If the
reason usually afsigned be sufficient to constitute a
genitive, it would be difficult to fhow why this clafs
fhould*not be intitled to:the same denomination *.
4th. If our grammarians have denominated cer--
tain words adjectives, which, according:to their own:
mode of reasoning fhould have been called genitives, .
so they lave ranked as pronouns other words, which
ought, with still greater propriety, to have been cal-
led genitives.. The words my, thy,-our; your, their, .
mine, thine, ours, yours, theirs, bis, ber, bers, its, and
theirs, are always ranged in the list of pronouns ;.
though it is plain. they bear exactly the same rela-.
tion’ to the original pronouns. from’ which they are
-derived, as. that: variation of. the noun which has
-been called a genitive, bears to the noun from which
it has been:derived. Thus, supposing. John to be the
-speaker,.who says,-in the first person, my house, this.
phrase is of the same import as if he had: said’ the
house of' me ; and differs not in: the ‘smallest degree
from the phrase fobn’s house, if it had been expref-
sed in, the third person by another speaker.. For
* J must again repeat it that I-do not contend.that any of these-are ge--

‘nitives, Y mean only to fhow the impropriety of ever having adopted that
~term, in any case, in the Englifh language.

LIQ Be grammatical disguisitions. 249,
‘both these phrases in this case would mean the house
-af or belonging\to Fohn.. The same. reasoning, will
apply to.all the words above enumerated, and it will,
upon investigation, be found, that. they haye all the
‘same relation to; their respective pronouns, as the
variation of the.noun, which gave rise to these spe-.
culations, has to the original noun from which it is
derived ; though they: have not been dignified with
the name of genitives. :

For the circumstances that constitute the difference
between my and mine, thy and thine, our and ours, &c.
it is not properly our businefs here to inquire; nor
yet to fhow the exact similarity in power of the sup-
posed inflected Englith genitive to both these .clafses
of words. This may with more propriety be done
on some future occasion, in a separate difsertation on
that subject*.

5th. If the Englifh words which gave rise to these
remarks deserve the name of genitives, merely be-
cause in some cases they are equivalent in significa-
tion to the genitive case of the Latins, we ought, by
the same mode of reasoning, to allow that some Eng-
lifh nouns admit of a dative or ablative case, as some
words will be found that admit of a dative, and many
more of.an ablative signification. ‘Thus, a zl horse
means a horse for turning a mill; a borse mill, a mill
to be driven by horses; a band saw is a saw to be used

* This I thall do in an early number of the Bee, as, from an analysis of
the clafs of words here specified, much light will be thrown upon a very
important part of our language, which has not hitherto attracted the no-~
tice of philologists so much as it deserves. Indeed had it not been to pave
the way for that difsertation, the present efsay, as much lefs interesting;
would have been supprefsed.

480 grammatical disquisitions. Aug. 2%.
by the hand ; a table knife, a knife to be used at table,
To the same clafs belong watch-chain, pen knife, tea
Spoon, slop bason, hand kerchief, and many others
which it would be tedious to enumerate ; and which
would have an equal:claim‘to the titles of ablatives,
as those formerly mentioned have to that of gene-,
‘tives *,

It has been already remarked that Dr Lowth calls
‘this variation of our noun a pofsefsive case, and the
greatest part of our grammarians term the pronouns
above named, pofse/sive pronouns. As to the term
pofsefsive case, if it fhould be adopted, it gives an idea
of cases, altogether different from that which has been
ever admitted among-ancient grammarians, and would
lead to conclusions that would produce the greatest
‘confusion in. grammatical-speculations. There is no
doubt, it is true, but that many of the words of this
-clafs indicate pofsefsion, as well as the words above
enumerated, that have been called po/sefszve adjectives ;
but it is not clear. that either the one is entitled, in
strict propriety, to the name of adjectives, or the
_ other to that of cases, If we fhould admit this clafs
of words to the rank of a particular case, we fhall
find other words derived from our nouns by other
inflections that-would have an equal claim to the same
honour. Thus Yobnsoniana is a.word derived from
Johnson by a peculiar inflection ; and as it implies a
collection, we fhould call it the collective case. Even
_Johnson itself is a word derived from John by a par-

* Once more J must request the reader to remember that I here only

reason for the sake of analogy. I by no means contend that any of these
could properly be called cases.

3792. grammatical disqutsitions. 281
ticular inflection denoting filiation, we fhould there-.
fore call it the fliative case. Cumberland, and others
of this kind, might be called words in the territorial
ease; Londoner, Highlander, would constitute other
‘cases. In fhort, the variety of cases we fhould be un-
der the necefsity of adopting would be so great, as
even to prevent a pofsibility of inventing names for
them all; and would introduce a mode of casation, if
I may adopt that word, so entirely different from any
thing that has ever been in use, in any language, as
could only prove the source of perplexity and confu-
“sion,

- 6th. If, however, our predeliction for the word
ase, is such, that we must at any rate,adopt it with
‘regard to any of the clafses of words above enume-
rated, I fhould think they have a better title to that
of nominatives than to that of any other case. My
reasons for this opinion are,

- In the frst place, that, in all cases, the variation of
our noun that has been called the inflected genitive,
occupies the same place as a nominative. Jn the
‘phrase Fames’s house 1s stately, there is no other no-
Tinative to the verb zs, but Fames’s house : for it is
vevident that the word house, taken by itself, cannot
‘be the nominative, as it can only make a com-
plete sense when united with Fames’s. Both to-
gether, therefore, form a true nominative. In
Iike manner, in the phrase the dand-saw CUTS well,
hand-saw is the only nominative to the verb curs ;
and the same might be said of all the others. I
must here, however, add, that as no distinction takes
iplace between the form of the nominative and acct
VOL, x. (oe) +

282 grammatical disquisitions. 4iig..295.
sative of Englith nouns ; so this clafs of nominatives,
like all others, becomes accusatives also, merely by 2
change of their positien with respect to the verb.

In the next place, this. clafs of nouns can be regu».
larly declined, through all their cases, by the aid of:
prepositions, in the same manner as any other nouns:

in the Englith language, as thus:

Nominative,. John’s house, a hand saw.

Genitive,. of John’s house, of a hand saw..,
Dative,, to John’s house, to.a hand saws.
Ablative, by John’s house, by a hand saw..

And in the same manner may be declined. every other:
noun belonging to this clafs of words.. é

Lastly, they are always. the name of some particu--
dar-object, which they denote as distinctly as anyother -
noun whatever ; and, therefore, many words of this
elafs find a place inevery dictionary as proper:names,.
The. following are. a few words. of this clafs that.
have been. selected from Johnson’s dictionary, azr-.
pump, ballad-singer, beeflour, bear’s breach, bird's:
foot, bifhop-weed, blind-man’s. buff, bristol-stone, but-
-cher’s broom, cat’s eye, Gharies’s wain, cheese-monger, ,
church-yard, day-light, dial-plate, &c., If Charles's.
wainand 4:/hop-weed, be admitted as.nouns, properly so.
-ealled; under what pretext can we refuse the same:
mame to Saint: Paul’s church-yard, the queen’s, house,
or any other word, of which these genitives, as they.
shave been called, form a part ?

‘That the phrases into which this clafs of words.en=
@er, ave names.in the strict and proper sense of the
sword, farther appears from. this circumstance, that:
the names thus formed, and simple uncompounded

‘Ty92. ss. Srammatical disquisitiens. 283
names, may be easily interchanged fur one another 5
-or, that an object which in one language has a simple
name appropriated’ to it, may afsume, in another
language, one of these inflected genitives as a consti-
tuent part of that name. The Pantheon, in the lan-
guage of ancient Rome, was the name of a particular
‘building well known in that city. The same building
still remains, and has been known by two different
names, vz. the rotundo, alluding to its form; but it
is now more commonly called the church of all saints.
As these are only different names for the same ob-
ject, they must be accounted words of the same clafs;
that is, nouns, properly so called.

In the same manner sealpellum, in Latin, is the
name of a particular implement, which we call in
‘Englith a pen-knife, both which we must equally rank
in the clafs of nouns. Again, in Englifh we denote
»a certain part ef the human body by the word foe,
which in French is called finger of the foot. And
that part of drefs which we call a glove, is, in the
“German language, called /hoe for the hand. Who
-doubts, but as these different phrases convey the
same idea to the mind of the persons who hear
them used in either language, they are all words be-
longing to the same general clafs? Each of-them is
‘eyidently the proper name of a particular object, and
-as such must be clafsed among nouns, each of which
nouns admit of the same construction as vther nouns
‘in the same language.

It will perhaps be objected, that those words which.
‘have been called Englith genitives, differ not.in this
‘respect from the genitive of the Latins, in certain

264". grambiatical disquisitions. ° Aug. 49.7

circumstances. This will be granted ; but the con- -

clusion is not thereby invalidated.
Tt will be farther said, that in Latin, as well as
in Englifh, these genitives only afsume the appear-

ance of performing the function of a nominative, |
when they are joined with another noun. This also’

will be admitted without altering the conclusion.

It may be farther objected, that adjectives, in some '

cases, are so joined with other nouns, as to become a
part of the proper name of certain objects ; such as
long-foanks, strong-bow, red-bead, and others. This
also is admitted. And what ate we hence to infer?

merely that names, properly so called, are eften com-'

pounded of different elements, which, as in chemis-

try, coalesce, and form a new mixt, differing in qua- °

lities from the simple elements of which they are
compounded: and if some of these elements can ne-

ver be exhibited in a separate form, there will be '

nothing new in this circumstance*.
From the foregoing considerations, I presume it
will be admitted, that that clafs of Englith words

which has been usually called inflected genitives, are ’
only, i some particular cases, equivalent in sensé to '
the Latin genitive case: that many other words have '

the same genitive, or, according to Dr Lowth, fo/-
sefsive signification, which never have been called ei-

ther genitives, or pofsefiives: that other words are’

found in abundance, which have a dative or ablative’

signification, though they have never obtained the

* The termination, er, isa particular caseof th's kind, Londoner, singer, -

exaker,

£792. detatched remark. 235
name of datives nor ablatives: that .if the meaning
only of words were to constitute different clafses of
cases, we would not only depart.in some measure
from the idea of cases in ancient languages, but
would be under the necefsity of creating an endlefs
variety of cases that never had hitherto been thought
of: and that all these different clafses of words per-
form in language the office, and have the power, of
nouns, strictly so called; and are liable to all the
changes that other nouns in our language admit of.
From whence I infer, that they are neither genitives,
nor ablatives, nor adjectives, strictly so called, nor
belong to any of those various clafses of words in
which they have hitherto been ranged ; but that they
form a distinct clafs of words by themselves, the
properties and uses of which have not been hitherto
distinctly ascertained. The remaining part of this
efsay will be appropriated to a more particular inves-
tigation of this subject.
To be continued.

ee

DETATCHED REMARK.

Tue ordinary attacks of caren and detraction «
ought to be looked upon as sparks, which, if you do
not blow them will go out of themselves. This was
an observation of the great Herman Boerhaave’s, and
nothing can be more worthy of our attention and
practice.

eee
a a
—=

=——

etme
——_

POETRY..
eS ae ae 2 EEE

' AN ODE TO FANCY.

For the Bee.

O wart me, Fancy, when you fly

To tinge with gold some azure fky ;

Or when you roam through Albion’s isle,
O lead me where the muses smile 5

Lead me to Shakespeare’s sacred tomb,
Where violets breathe, and roses bloom;
-Let us the seasons charms survey,

Where nature paints the devious way ;
Along the winding riv’let’s side

Where Shenstone once was wont to glide%
And pensive stand by mofsy cell,

Where fays and fairies us’d to dwell ;
Or on the banks of Leven’s fhore,

The early fate of Bruce deplore 5

And listen to the voice of spring,

When thy lov’d Logan us’d to sing 5
“While deepembow’r’d in Lomond’s' vale,
The-cuckow carelefs chaunts his tale.

In Thomson’s grove hy Tweed’s pure stream,
You wrapt me in a mystic dream,
‘Which mem’ry pleas’d fhall oft renew,
And fondly ev’ry trace pursue:

I saw, with wonder and surprise,
-Amidst a grove, an altar rise ;

A spiral wreath of Mantuan bay
Entwin’d it round ; and on it lay

The fruits and flow’rs of ev’ry field,
And all that earth and seas cou’d yield;
While radi-nt forms descending came,
And there ador’d great nature’s name;
Some of those forms I instant knew,
While others scarce appear’d to view,
At distance gliding through the space,
Like misty forms in solemn pace.

The muses ted the blind along,

‘First fathers of the vocal throng 5

I heard the early Spartan fife,

Wake martial music into life 5 :
And Ofgian’s harp the sounds prolong,
And Milton tune his wondrous song.

Then came.a bard whom you had form’,
‘Whom genius with her wings adorn’d,
"Wildly to soar aloft on high,

-And in the whirlwind’s breath to fly ;

poetry. 280

To him you gave your magic wand;.
Each human pafsion to command;
To harrow up the soul with fear,
Or to difsolve it inva tear..

Next him another form drew near,
With all the beauties.of the year,
Depending graceful in his train,
With which his genius seem’d to reign 5
His voice was music in the spring,
And summer taught his tongue to sing ;-
When pensive Autumn’s sighing breeze,
Blew murm’ring through the leafelefs UrCe3,
Congénial were his melting lays,
He warbled sweet in nature’s prais*,.
Lill the, approving, own’d the pair
To:be her chief, her fav’rite care;
Loud thunders roll’d, the altar blaz’d,
Then through the clouds her sons fhe _rais’d 5
The fleeting vision fled away,
And left me on Tweedside to stray. R. V.

SS Se SS SSS

WHAT 18 LOVE?

PROM AN OLD COLLECTION OF MANUSCRIPT POEMS,
COMMUNICATED BY A FRIEND.

For the Bee.

Love's no irregular desire,
No sudden start of raging pain 3:
Waich in a moment grows a fire,
And in a moment coo!s again.

Not found in the sad-sonneteer

Who sings of darts, despair, and chains 5
And by whose dismal voice ’tis clear,

He wants not sense alone,—but braina.

Wer isit center’d in the beau,
Who sighs by rule,—in order dies.5
Whose sense appears in outward fhow,.,
And want of wit by drefs supplies,

No4—love is something. so divine,
Description would but make it Jefs 5.

Tis. what I know, but can’t define,
Lis what J feel, but can’t exprefa,

288 poetry. Aug. 29.

—— Ss

MARTIAL, LIB. ii. EPIG. 8. IMITATED,

For the Bee.

if my sagacious reader meets
A couplet carelef$ or obscure 5
Or judges these immortal sheets
ah ea injur’d syntax hardly pure :

Such errors never can be mine;
For learning you may give me credite
T spelt and pointed every line;
Each bull,—the bungling printer made ite.

- But if you hint that I myself,
Might into Gothic blunders fall,
You’re a profane irreverend elf;
I swear you have no taste at all.

And if you still pursue me close,
With flaws I can’t deny nor hide 5
Your own transcendent page expose,
And then VJl mortify your pride. BoMBARDIMION.

MARTIAL, LIB. il. EPIG. 4. IMITATED.
For the Bee.

My booksellers can ne’er get done
With wonder I have been so luckys.
My birth-day odes are just begun
A tenth edition at Kentucky.

The Chickesaws and Cherokees,
No Jonger rufh in cut-throat column,
But quit hier pipes and scalping fees,
'To ponder these prodigious volumes

The factor vending beads and fhot,

At Hudson’s bay who thaws his fhins3
The negro driver who minds not

What Cortez suffers for his sins:

The centry on Gibraltar’s rock,
The pilot founder’d at its bottom,
Of former bards if e’er they spoke, ‘
Haye now, my fame be thank’d, forgot them.
THUNDERPROOF.

"2702 on the commetions in Rofsfkire. 207

= =

THOUGHTS ON THEPRESENT COMMOTIONS IN ROSS-SHIRE.

Somz popular commotions have of late taken place in
Rofsthire, which demand the most serious attention of
government, as they proceed neither from wantonnefs and
turbulence of disposition among the people, as some wilk
represent, nor from a cruel and opprefsive disposition in
landlords, as most people here seem willing to believe.
They proceed entirely fiom a defective system of legisla-
‘tion that I have often been obliged to reprehend on for-
mer occasions, which has been adopted by our govern-
‘ment, and persisted in, merely from the men in admini-
‘stration being unacquainted with the real state of these
countries, and unconscious of the exceeding pernicious
‘tendency of those measures, to a part of the country,
which, if under proper management, would soon be pro-
ductive of a high revenue to the state, instead of being a
‘heavy deduction ‘from it, as it is at present ;—a part of
a country which in some future day will be the seat of
‘industry, of arts, of wealth, and national resources, when
‘the other parts of it fhall be sunk in vicious debility and
-difsipation.

It is long since I pointed out the impolsibility of avoid-
ang that very distrefs which now exists ;—what I then
said was disregarded ;—what I fhall now add may perhaps
he disregarded also ; but the urgency of the case seems to
give room to hope it may perhaps in some measure be ad-
verted to. If it fhould not, I fhall at least have the con-
scious recollection of having done what was incumbent on
me, to alleviate the distrefses of the country. Ata future
period perhaps it may be reverted to,

VOL. xX, PP t

208 on the commotions in Rofsfbire. Aug. 29-
The immediate cause of the present commotions, is the
letting of some extensive farms in Rofsfhire for the pur-
pose of breeding fheep, instead of having them parcelled
eut into small allotments among a great number of poor
families, who had no means of stocking these so as to
avail themselves of their natural produce, nor any other
means of subsistence than that which they derived from
the miserable culture of a small part of the ground, for
which they were able to pay next to no rent whatever.
That I am by no means exaggerating on this occasion
will appear from the following well known fact. The
late Sir John Lockhart Rofs of Balnagowan, having re-
solved to convert a small part of his estate into a fheep
farm, sent for some fkilful fheep farmers to go over it,
and to pitch upon a place proper for that purpose. They
made choice of a vale, with hills on each side, to a great
extent. They computed that this farm would be. suflici-
ent to maintain throughout the whole year, five thousand
head of fheep; but they advised him to understock it at
first, till he saw how they succeeded ; and therefore pro-
posed he fhould put no more than three thousand upon it
at first, At the most moderate computation any fheep
rearer would have been willing to pay him three hundred
pounds rent fox, this farm. On inquiry he found that it
was at that time occupied by thirty-two families, with six
persons in each family, on an average, who, altogether,
paid to him ¢hirty-one pounds, ten fhillings of rent; and
this rent was supposed to be so very high that these poor
persons paid it with great difficulty, and could not afford
to give him twenty {billings more, had he exacted it with
ever so much rigour. The humane landlord foreseeing
that these penple would be reduced to misery if he car-
ried his plan into execution, desisted from it, and made
choice of another district for that purpose. A similar

1792. on the commotions in Rofs/hire. 299
eenduct, in many instances, that consist with my own
knowledge, has been pursued on like occasions by the
duke of Argyll, the duke of Gordon, and many private
persons, owners of lands in the Highlands; yet these
men are now indiscriminately branded by ignorant specu-
lators, as hard hearted opprefsors, who grind the faces of
the poor to such a degree as to deserve the detestation of
all good men. That there are no proprietors of land in
the Highlands, who, take advantage of the power that
the state of the country confers upon them, to abuse it,
will not be maintained by any person of sense. But that
these instances are as fare among them, as among any
other set of men, who have an equal chance of impunity,
I will boldly maintain as a fact. I myself, who have no
predeliction for the gentlemen of the Highlands, more than
others, am clearly convinced, that there are as many, if
not more, acts of disinterested generosity, practised
among this set of men, from humane and patriotic consi-
derations, as among any others in this island. ~ But where
is the men, who, as a body, will refuse to add to their in-
come by fair means, when the power of doing it is so easy ?
Can any person of sense say, that in order to provide for
some people, who, in their present state can only be ac-
counted unprofitable cumberers of the gound, a mau
fhould sacrifice the interests of his family, and diminifh
the income of the kingdom, by preventing the improve-
ment of his estate, merely because some iil judged laws
prevent those persons who have been accidentally placed
on his estate, from being able to support themselves by
their own industry? If the state condemns them to un-
availing poverty, why fhould the burden of supporting
them lie exclusively upon these proprietors? Let those
who are loudest in their clamours, consider for a moment,
and they will see that political evils, which owe their ex-

300 on tae commotions in Rofsfbire. Aug, 29
istence to defective legislation, and not to the fault of
individuals, ought to be redrefsed by the state ; and that if
the people must be supported by charity, that charity fhould
flow from the purses of the community at large, and not
from the pocket of individuals. There can be no doubt
that, in the instance above given, the 169 uselefs persons
on the estate. of Balnagowan, had in. strict justice, an
equal claim on any manufacturer or merchant in Britain,
in proportion to their income, as on Sir John Lockhart
Rofs for their support.

Let us therefore turn our attention from the gentle-
men proprietors of lands in the Highlands, and acquit
them of blame on the present occasion, that we may be
enabled the more distinctly to discriminate the real causes
of this political malady, which, if not removed, threatens:
to be attended with very disagreeable consequences to the:
community.

People dispersed in separate hamlets, in a wide coun:-
try, without market towns or roads, have no means of
converting their industry to profit. If they are able to
rear a scanty subsistence for themselves from the soil
they can scarcely in any case do more ; and where the cli-
mate is indifferent, even that scanty subsistence must be
precarious. ‘They have no inducement to rear more thaa
enough in ordinary years, because they could not’ find a
market for it. For the same reason they cannot convert
their industry in any other way to profit. Perpetuel po-
verty, therefore, must be the lot of these people ; and of
course they can neither afford to pay an adequate rent to
the proprietor for the land they pofsefs, nor pay any taxes
so as to augment the revenue of the state *. Could any

* The following account exhibits such a true picture of the state of the ©
Highlands, and the inconveniences to which the inhabitants of these coun-
trics are subjected in the progrefs of industry, that I with pleasure insert

W792 | on the commtotions in Rofs/hires 308
inquiry better deserve the attention of the legislature of an

enlightened country than to try to discover the means of

_ remedying this great political malady, and rendering the.
people happy and. useful members of the community *.

zt. It is written by the reverend Mr J. Anderson, minister of Kingufsie
in Invernefsfhire.

*« There is no villege, either in the parifh, or in.the whole district.
This inconvenience is severely felt.. Not only the luxuries, but’even ma-
ny of the common necefsaries of life, must be sent for to the distance of
more than forty miles. Tradesmen have no fixed place of residence
where they can be resorted'to. There is no center for the little traffic or
barter requisite to be carried on im an’ inland country.. The wool that’
could have been manufactured in that place, must be sent by a long land
carriage to buyers invited fiom another kingdom. The flax that might”
have proved a source of wealth to both proprietor and tacksman, has been
neglected; because fkilful people are not collected together into’ one close:
neighbourhood, to carry it through the whole procefs.””

The above is extracted from Sir John Sinclair's Statistical Account of:
Scotland, vol. iii. p..38, a book that will do honour to the age in which it
Was written, and lay the foundation, it is hoped, of many efsential im-
provements in Scotland: ‘To the above allow me to add, that even the
carcase of the fheep in these’situations, is of little value.. What could a-
poor man make of ten or twelve fat fheep, if he had them? Althis neigh~
bours have mutton of their own, and no buying butcher is- to be found
within perhaps an hundred’miles of him. _Unlefs a flock of seveyal thou-
sands be kept together, these cannot afford carrying them to market.
How are rents in these circumstances to be paid? How can taxes be paid,
or collected ?

* Too much praise cannot be bestowed upon Mr Dale of Glasgow, for
his great and patriotic exertion, in relieving a number of his unhappy
countrymen, froma severe calamity in which they foand themselves in-
volved at the time. Nothing but a generous philanthropic ardour, which
despises to rest on little inconveniences, could. have suggested the great
idea.—The same philanthropy also suggested the noble idea of forming the
society for bringing persons from the Highlands, to settle in. the manufac-~
turing districts of this country. Yet, however much I may honour the
contriver of this beneficent plan, a regard for truth forbids me to say;
that any very extensive benefit can be expected to result from it, Be-

go2 on the commotions in Rofsfbire. Aug. 29.

Nature has conferred on that country one, and only one,
great and obvious source of industry and wealth; but.
that is truly a great one. Yet, with a blindnefs, tosay no

neficerice and philanthropy may influence some minds continually; but,
jn general, that regard to oge’s own family and connections, which pru-
dence suggests, will prevent them, when unconnected with interest, from
producing powerful effects. Unlefs, therefore, it were clear, that the per-
sons who fhall engage in this enterprise, would be immediately and clearly
gainers by it, I fear little reliance can be had upon the continuance of that
ardour. This, however, my own experience in life forbids me to expect. If
children oaly could be brought from these countries, before they had acquired
confirmed habits of any sort, and put under the management of persons, who
would conscientiously discharge the duty of parents to them, at any great manu-
facture, the benefits to the undertaker would not be equivocal ; but where can
we expect to find a number of mas'er manufacturers, who will bestow the
attention and care that this requires? And if this attention be withdrawn,
perhaps no. profit will be drawa by the undertaker from this enterprise,
nor benefit result to the state.

But if there be doubts as to the expediency of bringing young persons
jn the lowest ranks of life, from one part of the country to another, there
is not, Iam afraid, any room to doubt, that neither pleasure nor profit can
result to the undertakers, by bringing those at a more advanced period of
life from one part of the country to another. We alt know the force o¢
habits on man, and the difficulty with which he fhakes them off. Those
therefore, who have grown old without being in the habit of constant ex-
ertions of any sort, find it a very difficult matter to fall into that line og
life. If, however, they come of their own accord, convinced that they
can have no reliance on any being under heaven for their subsistence, but
themselves, they will, in these circumstances, do wonders; and when the
earnings of industry have been experienced, we have all seen with what
ardour great exertions have been made. But where one is induced to
jeave his home, under the patronage of anothers the case is totally different.
y have had occasion myself to experience this, and I have always founds
rhat if you take a desendant from one part of the country to anothers
one of two things is the consequence. Either he thinks himself superior
to those with whom he is to afsociate, and he becomce insolent, overbear=
ing. and extravagant in his demands. In his mind, his services can never be
suffic ently paid, and eternal discord and difsatisfaction is the consequence.
og, he thinks you who have carried him from his native home, have

E792 on the commotions in Rofifbire. 303
worse, that deserves the severest reprehension, our legisla-
ture has not only neglected to avail itself of that circum-
stance ; but has even contrived, by cruel and absurd laws,
totally to preclude the people from the pofsibility of a-
vailing. themselves of those advantages which nature had
conferred upon them; and have converted that which
ought to have been a blefsing to these realms, into a
source of distrefs and opprefsion to the people.

Those who have been long readers of the Bee, will
easily perceive I here allude to the fifheries, and the salt
laws respecting them, [see Bee vol. vill. p. 192.] Had
the people been left at perfect freedom to catch and cure
fith, and trade in them either at home or abroad, without
restraint, they would naturally of themselves have esta-
blifhed fifhing towns and villages along the coasts, in
which they could have provided for themselves a subsis-
tence by industry and traffic. By the money they would
thus have acquired, they would have become buyers of
the natural productions of the internal parts of the coun-
try. Roads to these markets would then have becdme
pecefsary ; and would of course have been formed.
These roads being once made, manufacturers would have
gradually sat down in the internal parts of the country, to

contracted adebt, which you never can discharge :—he becomes lazy,
indolent, carelefs of what he does, but constanily craving for more,
more. In frort his demands are insatiable, and his exertions nothing.
To a generous mind, this is most distrefsing ; and he submits to it as to a
grievous burden he knows not how to remove. To one of Jefs delicacy,
a total breach follows, and clamourous complaints of cruelty and! unjustice
are the unavo:dable consequences.

From these considerations I am convinced, the humane exertions of
this beneficent society cannot afford any radical and permanent relief to the
people of that country 5 ana that in spite of thir exertions, if nothing
more effectual can be done, considerable emigrations from the north of
Scotland, must still continue to prevail,

304 on the commotions in Rofs/hire. Ang. 29°
-avail themselves of the infinite advantages they could de-
‘rive from the great falls of many streams of water, for
“turning machinery. ‘These, again, would have consumed
in manufactures, the wool that ought to be, and inevita-
bly will be, in time, the chief production of these moun-’
tains, and would themselves consume the carcases. Thus
might the country support ten times the number of in-
habitants it has at present, without feeling any superfluity
-of people. The tenants would be at liberty to stock and
and manage their farms, in the most economical manner,
without distrefsing any individuals. The proprietors would
draw a fair and adequate rent for their lands, without be-
ing accused of opprefsion. And the state would derive
an ample revenue, without distrefsing the inhabitants,
from a numerous people, who at present exhaust, instead
of augmenting the national treasure; while they are at the
same time opprefsed with the severity of revenue laws,
that tend only to alienate their affections from’ govern-
ment, instead of conciliating their good will.

These pleasing: consequences would so plainly result
from the abrogation of the salt laws alone ; and they are
so obvious to every person of sound sense, who is perfect-
ly acquainted with the state of that-country, though they -
will appear to be problematical to all those who have li-
ved in a cultivated country, and formed their opinion of
things from what they see around them, that I canno
help recurring to it again and again, even at the rifk of
ibeing tedious. Well I know the time will come, when
ewhat' I now say -will be adverted to, though I much
doubt it is not yet arrived. Yet such incidents as the
“present, which were long ago foreseen and mentioned,
ought to tend to open the eyes of those who have the
welfare of the people,—the prosperity of the country,—
cand the augmentation of its revenue at heart.

1792. bints.to the patrons of the Bee. 297—2

I have already said, see Bee vol. viii. p. 153. that I
have been informed the minister is cordially disposed to
free the nation from this cruel and opprefsive tax; but
I fear the eyes of the people are not yet sufficiently en-
larged to be ready to afford him that firm support in car-
tying forward this measure, that he would require. I
have not forgot the saying of a sensible foreigner: “ Wo
be to that minister, whose knowledge goes before that of
the age in which he lives.” These remarks are therefore
rather intended for the people than the premier. If they
fhall unanimously require the repeal of this tax, mot by
tumultuous clamours, which, heaven avert! but by cordi-
ally concurring in agreeing to put some reasonable substi-
tute of equal value to the state in its stead, there is no
zeason to fear that he will not give his afsent to the same.
¥ that, and the coast duties on coals fhould be removed, then
“would a door be opened for augmenting the prosperity of
‘this kingdom, to a degree that neither we ourselves,
nor foreign nations, can at present form an idea of. I
fhall venture,in a future paper, to throw out some hints
on this truly interesting subject, in the hope that the pub-
lic, by considering it with attention, will in time fall up-
on some unexceptionable device for attaming the objects
an view.

HINTS TO THE GENEROUS PATRONS
AND, LEARNED CORRESPONDENTS OF THE BEE,

For the Bee.

‘Tue rapid advancement of Scotland in agriculture, manu-
factures, arts, sciences, polite literature, trade, and navigati-
on, since the peace of Aix la Chapelle, has excited so great
attention in political economists, and seems so striking an
example of the benefit'to be derived from the improvement
of the soil inprecedence tot he establifhment of manufactures,
and from the general excitement of industry, arising from

VOL. X. P P——2 ‘ +

298—2 hints to the patrons of the Bee. Aug. 29.
connections formed with a generous, active, and industri-
us nation, to which it had been formerly hostile, de-
serves to become the subject of minute discufsion by
those rare spirits who know how to analise the causes of
the wealth and happinefs of nations, and to connect the
discufsion with brilliant and entertaining remark and re-
flection.

I know of no method so likely to place such interest-
ing disquisitions in a proper point of view, as the lives of
those illustrious and worthy citizens who have contribu-
ted signally to the melioration or ornament of their na-
tive country ; and among such I fhall beg leave to suggest
a few, whose lives might afford the description of the pro-
grefs made in the various clafses and departments of use-
ful knowledge and art, during the present century.

Cockburn of Ormiston is an article under which every
thing relating to the improved agriculture of East Lo-
thian might be arranged, and under which due- honour
might be done to the memories of all his cotempomries,
who in Scotland have promoted the judicious cultare of
land ; and this article fhould have for its decoration, por-
traits of Cockburn, lord Kaims, and others, whose charac-
ters come into the fore ground of the landscape.

In the line of manufactures, lord Milton, and the es-
tablifhers of spirited works at Glasgow, Paisley, Aber-
deen, Carron, and Leith, well deserve to be chronologi-
cally described, und«r such names of the principal subjects
that may be most agreeable to the compilers.

In architecture, Sir William Bruce of Kinrofs is
well worthy of the highest place, with a portrait, and an
exact catalogue of all his works; and after discufsing the
elder Adam Milne, and others entitled to notice, to give
a view of the introduction of a new taste in building,
wherein the late earl of Marr’s beautiful designs, and the

170%. hints to the patrons of the Bee. 299—2
part he had in suggesting the plan of New Edinburgh;
and other national designs, will fall to be mentioned and
described. And lastly, under the article of Robert A-
dam, will artange themselves every circumstance relating
to the present state of civil architecture ; as under that
of general Roy every circumstance relating to military,
wherein general Watson, the reverend Mr Bryce of Kirk-
newton, and others, will fall properly to be commemora-
ted.

In the art of engraving, now rendered an object of
commerce to the extent of more than L. 500,000. a-year
to Britain, Sir Robert Strange will afford an article: not:
only containing a list of his valuable works, but the pre-
sent state of that beautiful art, not only in respect of or-
nament, but use, in the advancement of arts and sciences
by diagrammatic elucidation.

The article of George Drummond, lord provost of
Edinburgh, may contain almost every thing relating to
the state of the flourifhing city of Edinburgh, with its.
port of Leith, and call forth the remembrance and men-
tion of useful citizens in the same station, who. have fol-
lowed out the laudable designs formed during the magi-
stracy of Drummond.

In the improvement of useful arts, Mefsrs Smitoun:
and Watt, and above all the worthy Reebuck and Dale,
will fall to be celebrated without encomiums, and by on-
ly enumerating the good consequences of their zeal and
ingenuity. In the sciences, polite literature, and the
other departments, which I now forbear to accompany:
with the designation of names, many will fall to be dis-
cufsed ; and I fhall only subjoin at present, that without
encomium or criticism, it will be best to state matters of
fact, connected with the honoyr and prosperity of the

300—2 experiments on gypsum, ° Aug. 29%.
country, and leave the rest to the reflections of the rea-

der.

These surely are noble and useful subjects to employ
the leisure of my intelligent countrymen, and. let me at:
least glory that they are numerous *,

“(He mihi erunt aries pacisque imponere morem.””
BroGRapuicus..

EXPERIMENTS ON GYPSUM.
BY R. PROCTOR ANDERDON, OF HENLADE, SOMERSETSHIRE..

[From Young’s annals of agriculture.]
Heniade, Dec. 28. 1791.

Last spring I procured two hundred weight of alabaster;
or gypsum, from a rock at Hurcott, near Somerton, in
this county, at 2s. 6d. per hundred weight at the quarry,
which I got beaten to powder with hammers, and_ran. it
through a fine hair sieve, or cleansing range, and then
through a malt mill, which was not injured by the opera,
tion ; but to pulverise it on a large scale in this manner
would be too expensive for the farmer’s practice, if it
were to be much used for a. manure.

The two hundred weight produced about ten: pecks in
powder ;.a peck of powder weighed twenty-one pounds.
ten ounces. At the rate of six bufhels to an acre, it -

* The Editor will be much obliged to such of his readers as have had
accefs to be well informed with respect to any or the above mentioned.
particulars, for such hints or memorials as they can furnith, particularly
respecting Cockburn of Ormiston; and will be glad.to-know if there be
any genuine povcrait of him, and where it Is. to be found; as also of Sir
William Bruce of Kinrofs; and any of the others of whom portraits have
not been alre.dy engraved.

A head of lord Milton, from an o~¢'nal painting in the pofsefsion of
Mr Macmillan, is now in the hands or the engraver, which will be ac-
companied by memoirs of that discinguifhed personage, by a gentleman to
whom the Editor of the Bee lies under very particular obligations.

Ra
~

1792." experiments on gypsuit. 301—Z
would be 1; oz. 3442 toa square yard ; at that rate five
hundred weight is sufficient for an acre, and forty-one
pounds allowed for waste. The rough material at.the
quarry 12s. 6d. per acre; but there are rocks against
the sea, in this county, near Minehead; in Devonihire,
on the south coast, near Sydmouth; and most likely on
the sea coast in most parts of the island, which may pro-
bably be come at on more easy terms. The diificulty
will be, to reduce it to powder at a small expence, if it
fhould be found answerable.

In April and May last, at different times in gentle
rains, on five different places on a clayey soil, on a pas-
ture laid down more than twenty years ago with rye-grals,
I sowed in each place one peck of the powder ; also one.
peck on sanfoin in its fifth year’s growth; one peck on
young oats ; and one peck on spring vetches or tares; all
at the rate of six buthels ger acre, and it has. had no ap-
parent effect on either of those places.

But on the same day on which I sowed four pecks of
the above experiments, wz. April 13. 1 sowed 14-0z. of
this flour of gypsum on a square yard of grafs ground,
where no stock goes, which was laid down sixteen or se
venteen years ago, partly with Dutch clover seed. - There
(the soil an heavy loam,) from the middle of May to the
end of June, when it was mown, the grafs was greener
than that around it. In the beginning of July, slight
rains falling, it appeared greener, and by the end of Au-
gust, the grafs on that spot was not only greener, but
thicker and higher, and the leaves of the Dutch clover
broader than on the outsides of it. August the 31st
it was mowed again, and the same appearances en-
sued and continued until the 10th of November, when
it was mowed again, It is observable, that, at the time of
sowing the gypsum powder, the wind blew S. E. and it is
visible to an inch how far beyond the line, and from peg

302—2 experiments on gypsum. Aug. 44.
to peg, the powder was blown towards the N. W. From
hence I conclude, so far as my experiments go :

** That on many plants, or in many soils, or both, gyp-
sum powder will have no effect ; but that it has an effect
on old clover in a loamy soil; and that a greater effect
may be reasonably expected from it, when applied to
younger plants of the same sort or nature.”

I forgot to remark, that trying to boil a small portion
of the powder over a wood fire, to prove its goodnefs, it
got into a state of fusion, and admitted a straw to be
thrust to the bottom of an iron pot (in which brimstone
used to be melted,) which it would not admit of before it
was put over the fire. It was then removed, and put
over a stronger coal fire; the appearance and the sub-
stance continued as nearly the same as could be ; the vef
sel in which it was put, became red hot.

I have about a peck of the powder’ left, which I fhali
be ready to try in the spring, in any manner you may re-
eommend. Pray do you know any thing of the truth of
the experiment of applying this powder to seed oats, steepr
ed in water, by a farmer near Epping, last spring, of
which there was an account in the public prints *?

I have ordered some pounds of chicory seed; I look
hard in your annals for a plan of a threfhing machine.

It gives me pleasure to observe your ‘midland. toun
I will not despair of seeing you again inthe west ; but E
.despair of introducing you to such adventures as form the
tup society. Yours, &'c. R. Procrer AnpERDON.

’A LETTER FROM ONE OF THE FRIENDS OF THE PEOPLE...
Sir, To the Editor of the Bee.

I nap prepared for your Miscellany another paper in con.
tinuation of those I already sent to you; but the late

* Tam not informed of any such experiment. The experiment to be
zecommended, is for common broad clover. A. ¥.

192 | Timoleon to the Editor. 303—2
transactions in France have made me suspend the farther
prosecution of that subject for the present.

I fear these alarming incidents will not tend to make
it a favourite subject with the people of Britain, at this
time.

I will be candid, and frankly own, that they have made
a strong imprefsion on my own mind: they have excited
doubts about the propriety of adopting certain modes of
conduct thet did not appear liable to objection before 5
and till these doubts fhall be removed I have thought pro-
per to suspend my remarks.

I never was disposed to allow the suggestions of reason
alone, unaided by experience, to have that weight which
some others gladly have done ; but the awful transactions
now before our eyes, have inspired a respect in me for
practices that have been sanctioned by experience that I
did not formerly feel. I even feel a sort of dread at
touching the parts of our establifhment that appear to be
evidently faulty, lest the fabric may be so deranged as to
go to ruin :—and from my own feelings I judge of others.

I am induced to believe that the cause of freedom has
received a deeper wound by the late transactions
in France than it could have received from any other
quarter. The tide of popular prejudice, without doubt,
xan too high among a great many individuals, even in Bri-
tain, in favour of democratical principles ; and one object
of our afsociation was to moderate that ardour. These
transactions have given it a sudden check, and there is
now reason to fear that the tide may take an opposite run;
and if it fhould rise as high in support of the crown
against the people, as it has already done on the opposite
side, who can say what may be the consequences ? I have
thought that the writings of Paine and his afsociates had
too rapid a circulation here ; and I now prepare myself
for an inundation of writings of an opposite tendency,

304—2 .on Weir's museum, Aug. 29. .
that will bear every thing before them for atime. Un-
‘der the influence of this apprehended phrenzy, much mis-
“chief may be done. Pray heaven my fears may prove
groundlefs!| As a sincere friend to the human race F
fhall, in that case, deplore in secret, what I cannot per-
‘haps effectually prevent.

Candour required me to make these acknowledgements
to you, Sir, and to thank you for the readinefs with which
you inserted my remarks in your valuable Miscellany.
I with it succefs with all my heart. From what I have
already observed of you, I have no doubt but you will
preserve that steady and unbiafsed conduct which a sin-
cere desire to promote the welfare of society will natu-
rally inspire. If ever a proper cpportunity occurs, and
not before, you fhall hear farther from

London, t Timoreon.
Mug. 22.1792.

Sir, To.the Editor of the Bee.

HAVE been long a lover’of natural history, and a great admirer of Mr
Weir's pieparations of birds and fithes, which I am sorry to say I think
in a great measure lost in this place. because unknown, I was therefore
highly pleased with the notice you have taken of that eleg:ne collection
in the last number of the Bee. I could, however, have wished, that you
had exprefsed the last sentence in a different manner; as it may by
tome be understood to convey an insinuation that I am convinced you youf-
self never intended. Mr Weir is a man of indefatigable afsiduity in busi-
nefs, and only appropriates what time and attentiond am certain -he can well
afford to spare, on the einbellifhment of this favourite object.

My design in writing this is merely to suggest a single hint, which I
think, if zdverted to, might prove graceful to Mr Weir, and useful to the
public. Many individuals chance at times to get some rare articles in the
line of natural hiscory, which they cannot properly preserve themselves
for went of conveniencies, and every one who makes a collection must some=
‘timcs have duplicates of the same thing. Some lacies are curious inforeign
birds; and rare animals are sometimes brought here :—when any of these
‘die, were the carcases, er other articles that cambe easily spared, sent to Mir
Weir with care, they would tend to augment this collection without ex-
pence to any one ; and preserve for the use of the public, what would o-
therwise have been lost.

. An ADMIRER OF THE WoRKS OF NATURE *,

* The Editor is much obliged to this correspondent for bis correction. It is

mot men in easy circumstances, but nabobs from India who ought to sport their
money in public services, without thoughts of private emolument.

7a

THE BEE,

OR

cr

LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER,

FOR

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 29, 1792.

SPANISH RAM.

Sparn has, for about an hundred years past, supplied
Britain, and the greatest part’ of Europe, with fine
cloathing wool, without so much as an attempt hav-
ing been made, in that time, to regain this once staple
commodity of this island. Of late, by the patriotic
exertions of Sir John Sinclair, a society has been es-
tablifhed for endeavouring to regain the commerce
of fine cloathing wool to Britain. And their exer-
VOL. x, ae +

a

306 on Spanifb /heep. Aug. 29.
tions have been crowned with greater succefs than
‘there was any reason to expect. Wool, under the pa-
tronage of that society, has been already reared of so
fine a staple as to be made into superfine cloth of the
best quality ; and there is every reason to believe,
that wool of a much finer quality than has hitherto
been here produced, will be obtained by a continued _
attention to this important oject.

It was one of the first objects of the attention of the
society, to obtain some of the best breeds of fheep
that are known on the globe ; and among these the
Spanifh breed was one of the chief. .. By the obliging ©
liberality of M. d’_dubenton in France, some fheep of
the Spanith breed that had been reared im France
were obtained. Our gracious sovereign himself, who
has for some years past propagated the Spanith race
of fheep in England, has, with the most obliging con-
descension, presented the society with a Spanifh
ram ; and, from the liberality of Lord Sheffield, they
have obtained a considerable number of a mixed
breed from South Down ewes crofsed with a.Spanifh
ram. The tool of all these fheep has evidently’not
grown worse since they came into the pofsefsion of
the society ; and it is the opinion of the best judges
“who have examined it, that it is both finer and softer
than before: but of this we have not yet unequivo-
cal proofs.

Measures have pees, adopted for obtaining some of
the finest fheep of the Spanifh breed. And the so-
ciety have reason to believe, that some of the Thibet
breed of fheep are now on their pafsage from India.

17Q2. grammatical disquisitions. 307
In the mean while, to satisfy the curiosity of the
public, the portrait of a Spanifh ram is given above,
The horns are the most striking peculiarity of this
breed of fheep, which are very faithfully represented
im the plate. The remarkable clofsnefs of the fleece,
which is peculiarly striking to those who have seen
them, though not so obvious from the drawing, is the
next and most valuable peculiarity of this breed. The
fheep are, in other respects, firm and healthy. The
other peculiars of the breed will be best knowa
-by the following comparative trials made by Arthur
Young, esq; who also obtained aram in a present
from his majesty.

Account of Don, a Merino ram, extracted from the

Annals of Agriculture.
** How many millions of men are there that would
smile, if I were to mention the sovereign of a great
@mpire, giving a ram toa farmer, as an event that
merited the attention of mankind! The world is. full
of those who consider military glory as the proper
object of the ambition of monarchs ;, who measure
regal merit by the millions that are slaughtered; by
the public robery and plunder, that are dignified by
the titles of victory and conquest ; and, who look
down on every exertion of peace and. tranquillity as.
unbecoming those who. aim at the epithet great, and
unworthy the aim of men that are born the masters.
ef the globe.

‘* My ideas are cast in a very different mould ; and
I believe the period is advancing, with. accelerated

308 on Spanilb foeep. > > Ags 23-
space, that fhall exhibit characters in alight totally
new; that hall rather brand than exalt the virtues
hitherto admired ; that hall place in the full blaze
of meridian lustre, actions lost on the mafs of man-
kind ; that fhall pay more homage to the memory of
‘a prince that gave a ram to a farmer, than for wield-
ing the sceptre—obeyed alike on the Ganges: and:
the Thames.

‘* ] fhall presume to offer but one other general ob-
servation :—-when we see HIS MAJESTY practising
hufbandry with that warmth that marks a favourite’
“pursuit s—and taking such steps to diffuse a foreign
breed of fheep, well calculated to .inyprove «those: of.
his kingdoms ;—-when. we see the royal pursuits take:
‘such a direction, we may safely “conclude; that the:
public measures which, in certain instances, have
‘been so hostile to the agriculture’ of this country,
have nothing in common with the opinions of out
gracious sovereign: such measures are the work of
men, who never felt: for hufbandry ; who never prac-
‘tised; who never loved. it :—it is not such men dere
give rams to farmers.

Measure of the real Ot. . sidug oti

Git, eee oe We inches.
at chine, ais 36. 73 no mwod
OE Heres PSO Gere ee into doer
, ; of leg, 9c 40 enigy ould aeliiitiatinan
bere ay pe -edolg ods te
* me at chine, , 9 $2 3 i¥ Ms -
} gYoited 2

Length of carcase, © - 23°
of necky* =)

87922 on Spanifo fbeep. “409
Breadth of loi,» = 6-inehes.
Weight,. “ - gt lb.

“The thicknefs, Aardnefs, and closenefs of his coat,
are singular; the colour tothe eye very dark, dirty,
and even blackith, arising from that superior degree
of closenefs ; but when opened, for examining the
-wool, the extreme beauty of the staple 1s at once ap~
parent. The fibre fine; twisted ; full of that yel-
lowifh waxey grease, that distinguithes the Spanifh
fleeces ; the fkin oily to an-extraordinary degree.

. * In regard to.the thriving quality of this breed, it
is a point of such importance, that I was anxious to
ascertain it: of the wool, none could have any doubt ;
but’from certain points, which predominate in Spa~
nifh theep, this was certainly a question, I had it
not in my power to make a trial absolutely complete ;
but I formed a comparison, the result of which fol-
lows :—I tied him up in stalls during a part of the
‘winter, and the rest of it he was in the field, fed eX~
actly (during the whole) as other rams that. were
compared with him. In stalls, he beat the Norfolk
‘breed. BUTS As
No. 1. Dec. 31, Don weighed - ° 841b.
2 A ram / South Down, + :
Norfolk, 4 Bakewell, - 148
qj. A South Down, from Mr
* Ellman, - - 136 lb.

These were fed abroad together till March roth,

when they weighed

No. Tb) Gain
Bp hs YOO gape toes baggeowe a
25 148 7

3s 144 8

3T0 on. Spanifh fheep: Mag. 79+

‘© This’ was a superiority, which, I confefs, I did
not dream ot.——The comparison is. not exact, because
the ages are not the same. No. 1, has eight broad
teeth ; No. 2, has six; and No. 3, has only four =
but it seems to imply, that this ram is. of a thriving
race. .

‘* Another comparison of ram hoggets, proved fa-
vozrable to the Spanith blood.

Jan. | Jan a [

14 31. G
No. —- | —-
1, Half South Down, + Bake- | Ib. | lb. th Ib.

well, and z Norfolk, = - 97 94| 82] a
2, Ditto, - - 99.} 102/100] IE
3, 4 South Haynes x Spanith,

4 Ryeland, - - g9 | 104) 108] 9
4, Ditto, alatelamb, - 37; so} 48] 146
5, Seven whole bred South}

Down; average weight, | 80 | 81| 94) 74

“+ It foould seem,from this, and various other trials,
that so small an addition as one-fourth. of Norfolk.
blood does a marked. and efsential mischief. Of
these, No. 4 much exceeds the rest, a fheep of 37 lb.
gaining r4 1b. is in the proportion: 23.1b. gain by one
of 86 lb. instead of which it is:only 14 lb.

‘« Speaking generally, J. believe the Spanifh blood: —
, will be found to have a. good disposition to fatten ;.
if notin the same clafs as some of our long woolled.
breeds, at least much superior to. some of our-fine’
woolled ones.

“‘ ] put him to-forty of my finest. woolled South:
Down ewes, and therefore may expect to breed some

379% grammatical disquisitions. 31
rams well adapted for propagating fine wool, and some
ewes, which, covered two years hence by Don, will
give me a yet nearer approximation. aL Xn

GRAMMATICAL DISQUISITIONS,

Continued from p. 245.

On the supposed Englifh genitive case.

Lanevace, in whatever way the idea of it was first
communicated to man, has evidently been modelled
by him, so as to suit his circumstances. Necefsity
has often whetted his invention, and given rise to
new words, as new ideas dawned upon the mind ; in
the choice cf which words, chance, rather than philo-
sophical principles, has influenced him. In all situa-
tions he must have felt a great want pf words, which
might be employed as names to distinguifh the vari-
‘ous objects of perception, for the want of which he
would be forced to adopt many contrivances to afsist
him in conversation. To develope all these contri-
vances would afford matter of curious speculation;
but this is beside our present purpose.

Particular words, appropriated as the name of ge-
neral clafses of objects, would be adopted at an early
period: and we find such terms in all languages that
have hitherto been discovered. Such as animal, ve=
getable, &c.

Names also, at an early period, would be afsigned
to the greater subdivisions of these clafses, as man,
horse, tree, plant, &c.

Individuals also, among such of those clafses as
vere most under'the eye ef man, would obtain:parti-

312 grammatical disguisitions., Augi 2g:
cular appropriated names, as Caesar, Pompey, Alens
ander, In bestowing which names men would some»
times Ve influenced by ‘chance, or accidental vircume
stances ; though we know that these names were fre-
quently compounded of distinct words, which had
originally a teference to the powers or appeatance of
the object to which they -wére applied, though they
were afterwards used without any reference to these
appearances; asred-head, barefoot, bairg’s-father, &e.

But as the diversity of individual ebjects is se
great, that no man can know them all by name; or,
if he himself did know them, could he make others
know at first sight, the name by which each particu-
lar object had been distinguifhed, among different
clafses of men, it must frequently happen, that ob-
jects ‘will occur, with whose appropriated name a
man is entirely unacquainted. When sucha case oc-
curred, what would he do? He would naturally first
refer it to that general clafs of objects to which it
obviously belonged, and then would have recourse
to description to supply the want of an appropriated
name. Let us suppose, for example, that a man had
seen an ox for the first time, he would naturally say
to another, J saw a lurge animal with four legs, and
two horns, and so on, till he had finifhed the descrip-
tion in the best way he could.

But as this mode of communicating ideas is both
tedious and troublesome, he would have recourse to
some contrivance to avoid these difficulties, and fhort-
en his nomenclature ; and with this view would lay
hold of such particulars as accident, or the circum-
stances in which he found himself placed, first sug
gested to him,

T7O2.. grammatical disgutsitions. 313
Among these peculiarities, the circumstances that
sdenoted relation, or necefsary connection, between one
object and another, would be soon observed, and
would afford a hint for forming a general clafs of
words, that might be employed for this purpose. In
a civilized country, as soon as an idea of property
begins to prevail, it will naturally oceur to every
one on seeing any unknown object, that it must in
general belong to, or be appropriated to the use of
some person : and, as we have bestowed sych a par-
ticular attention to man, as to confer an appropriated
name upon each individual, we naturally make use
of that proper name to serve as a help for identify~
ing those objects that peculiarly belong to him.
Thus, for example, I see a house forthe first time;
and as J know that house must have an owner, or
an occupier, I enquire who that owner is, and upon
being answered, ohn or William, J lay hold of that
circumstance to distinguifh it from others, and ever
afterwards cail it Fobn’s or William’s house.

In like manner, as every whole must consist of
parts, by referring that particular member of any
body we with to identify to the whole, of which it’
forms a constituent part, we can readily distinguith
it from other members of the same kind, as a borse’s
hoof, a sbeep’s foot, a bullock’s head, and so on: ot
still more particularly, ‘fames’s hand, George’s head,
&e.

The above examples furnifh us with one instance,
out of many thousands that might be produced, of
the fhifts that mankind have been obliged to adopt,
in forming languages, by stretching general prin-

VOL. x. RR t

s

314 grammatical disquisitions.: Aug. 29.
ciples, so as to make them comprehend several col-
lateral ideas without altering the form of the words
employed. Thus, if we were to suppose that pro-
petty was the idea that first gave rise to that varia-
tion of nouns, denoted by the addition.of an apostro-
phised ’s, it has been found so convenient as to give
rise to its being extended to denote pofsefsion also ;
-for we equally denote a particular house in this man-
ner by the name of the po/se/sor or the proprietor.
In like manner it has been extended to denote totality,
when considered with relation to the parts of which
it consists. We. even go farther, and make the
same inflection denote neither po/se/ston, nor property,
nor totality, as above defined, but a sort of a compli-
mentary relation, for which I do not know any ap-
propriated name. Thus, St Andrews Square does
not.imply that the square is either the property of
St Andrew, or is pofsefsed by him, but merely that,
in honour of that saint, it is called after his name.
This particular variation of nouns, does not therefore
in all cases denote po/se/sion, as has been alleged by
some eminent grammarians, but exprefses many dif-
ferent:relations, all of which it would be tedious to
enumerate, but all tending to the same purpose, that
of identifying a particular object; other circumstances,
about which I at present enquire not, have béen laid
hold of, and employed for.the same purpose.

Such, then, is the origin and use of this clafs of
-words, about which grammarians have hitherto been
so much puzzled. These words evidently afl be-
long to that clafs which Harris has, with great pro-
priety, called definitives. Of these,’a small number

4

1792. | grammatical disquisitions. ar¢8
have been separated from other words, and clafsed:
by themselves, in modern languages, under the name
of articles ; but a much greater number of them
have been putfhed into other clafses, without order or
discretion, which has occasioned a confusion in gram-
mer that requires to be rectified. .

DEFINITIVES, as their name imports, are all such
words as, without conveying an idea of any peculiarity
inherent in the object itself, to which they refer, serve
merely to separate it from others.of the. same kind, so
as to distingui/h it from them,

The words of course can only’ re’er to nouns::
and so intimate is their connection-with that clafs of -
words, that they can on no occasion appear in lan-
guage without a noun, whose more general meaning ©
they serve to Limit and define ; and so intimately do
they unite with that noun, as both together to-stand
only as one proper name.

Definitives, considered as a distinct clafs of words,.,
are formed by derivation from words. of almost eve-
ry other clafs: from nouns, . pronouns, adjectives, .
verbs, sometimes with, and sometimes. without any.
variation of the original word*..

_ They are, in all languages, a very numerous clafs -
of words, and of very common use ; every particular

* Definitives from nouns, with alterations, Fames’s, Willian’s, David's
=—without change, hand-gun, mill-wheel, borse-mill, mill-bor se, arm-fits
bair-breadth, straw-breadth, iron-mallet, powder-born, wheel-barrow ;—
from pronouns, my, thy, our, your, bis, her, its, their, &c.;—from -adjece
tives, red-bead, grey-beard, green-banky trueeman;—tfiom verbs, make er
packeer, turner, bakeers

316 grammatical disquisitions. Aug. 29%.
language having its own mode of derivation, and of
compounding them with other words. ;
It has been already fhown how it happens that de-.
‘ finitives, under that form which has been called ge-
nitives, are naturally derived from all nouns which
denote corporal substances, or beings pofsefsing sen-
sible qualities ; because all these may be conceived:
‘either as belonging to some individual, or as being
affected in some sensible manner, either in whole, or
in part: but with regard to intellectual existences,
or those objects of which we form an idea only zm the
abstract, we find no. particular on which we can lay’
hold, from which a definitive might be formed.
Such nouns, therefore, though, like others, they ad—
mit of a regular genitive case, according to the ana-
logy of the language to which they belong, do not
admit of that particular inflection which has been
called the Englifh genitive. That this is the real:
cause of the exception taken notice of in the begin-
ning of this efsay with regard to abstract nouns, and.
not, as some imagine, the harfh sound of the apos-
trophized ’s, is evident when we advert that the word:
Fames’s is as harfh as conscience’s, and more so than:
enticement?s, arrangement’s ; though the first is com=
mon, and the last never permitted in our language..
The limits. to. which I must here confine myself, do:
not permit me to trace this numerous elafs. of words
through al? their divarications, or to give even an
idea of the different ways in which they may be em-
ployed in forming compound nouns. They on some
occasions so. intimately coalesce, and form so com-

1792. grammatical disquisitions. 317
pact a word as not to be distinguifhable from an un-
compounded noun. In procefs of time, the idea
which gave rise to their original composition being
lost, the name of the object only which the word
stands for, comes to be attended to, and it is then em-
ployed as a simple word in forming new compounds.
A noted instance of this kind occurs in the word
midwife, from which is derived the singular com-
pound man-midwife. Doomsday-book, and pocket=
handkerchief, belong to the same clafs.

I fhall only farther observe, in regard to the use
of this clsfs of words in compounding others, that all -
our patronimic names, are formed by their afsistance ;,
such as Wilhumson, ‘fohnson, Davidson, in Englith.
The same may be said of the Irifh Mac’s and 0’s, the
Welch Up’s, and the De’s in French and modern La-.
tin. To which may be added the names of places
ending in burgh, bill, ford, burn, dam, dike, haven,
mouth, and many others which it would be tedious
to enumerate.

For the distinction between this clafs of words and
adjectives, which in some particulars they so nearly
resemble ; for the rules that have been observed in.
regard to their derivation’; the modes that have been
adopted in respect of their composition with other
words ; and other particulars relating to them, [ must
leave these to be ascertained by others who have
talents better adapted to such investigations, and. who:
have better opportunities of prosecuting such studies:
than myself: and will be happy if these cursory
hints fhall have a tendency to induce some one better

318 grammatical disqutsitions. Aug. x.
qualified than I am to undertake the tak, which®
they. will find not lefs entertaining than instructive *.

* This. efsay having been read in the Royal Society of Edinburgh, a ve-.
ty imperfect abstract of it was given in the first volume of these transac-
tions, which called forth the following critique from the reviewer, in the
Gentleman’s Magazine for June 1788. April 19. Dr James Anderson:-
read observations on a peculiarity in the Englith language, usually called
the genitive case. He is of opinion, ‘¢ that the Englifh noun, admits of
© no inflection by cases, and therefore that the term genitive is. impro-
“¢ per.’ He contends, that ‘‘ the addition of the letter ’s, with an apos- -
*€ trophe to a noun, as Fchn’s staff; is not an inflection of the noun, and
*¢ therefore cannot be termed a case.” He affirms, that £* when a
6¢ noun undergoes a change of this sort, it ceases to be itself a noun, and’
S¢ becomes immediately a definitive.”

«© If,” adds this elegant critic, € this be be not absurd, it has much the -
appearaace of absurdity; and we would advise Dr Anderson, before he
ventures again to read any thing in the society, about nouns ceasing tobe
nouns, and becoming definitives, to pursue with: attention, the diversions of - :
parley.” &e,

Perhaps if Dr Anderson advised this profound critic, before he agai :
ventured to criticise works of this nature, to have recourse to his gram-
mar, or any common dictionary, he would make a very proper return;
for he will there find, that, so far is it a wonderful case, that a.noun, by a
slight variation, ceases to bea noun, and ranges under some other part of speeeh,
that he can scarcely read a sentence in which something of that kind does
notoccur. And the same thing happens with regard to verbs’and adjec-
ctives. He will admit that flight is a noun ;—he cannot deny that flighty -
is the samenoun. with asmall variation;—but this he will find by his dic-
tionary is no longer accounted a noun, but am adjective, The same adjec-
tive, by another slight variation into flightinefs, ceases once more to be anad~
jective, and becomes again a xoun. Such mutations in grammar are so. come -
mon, as to be familiar with everyT yro in grammatical rudiments. Sometimes .
these mutations are made without any change of letters; as haste a nowrty
to make haste, a verb; as also from the same root, hastily, adverb;
hasty, adjective; hastinefs, abstract noun. Examples of this sort might
be multiplied without end. . Where then is ‘the absurdity of saying that
the same thing may take place in the formation of’ definitives as takes -
place in regard to verbs, adjectives, adverbs, and nouns? there surely
would be no impropriety in saying, indifferently, either this is an absurd |
critic ; or he writes absurdly; or he utters an absurdity; in which case
the same word absurd, with very slight variations, is made to stand as an
adjective, an adverb, and a noun.

E792. on revenue laws. 310

ON REVENUE LAWS.
Continued from p. 61.

Sir, *To the Editor of the Bee.

Ty my last paper I pointed out, in some degree, the
evils accruing tothe community from importation
smuggling, which has been found to be an insepa-
rable attendant on high duties. The effects that
these produce on the revenue of government, and the
expediency, in that respect, of reducing them, come
‘now under consideration.

High taxes produce smuggling, in a degree of com-
“parison, much above the rates of the duties: for in-
-stanoe,.if a duty, in one case, is twice as much as in

another, it will produce a great deal more than twice
as much smuggling.

To illustrate this more fully, the following fketch
of the rifk in smuggling gin, is submitted to the
consideration of the reader.

A cargo of gin of 500 ankers, will cost at Fluthing
about 17s. per anker, of the strength of 20 per cent.
below Hydrometer proof, whichis, L: 425 0 9

_ The expence of freight of such a cargo,

will be to the smuggler, exclusive of

the rifk of seizure, about 450 ©
Landing charges, bribestolabourers,t#c.. 50 0 ©

Amounting in ali to LAHSA iO 1.0
The value of the vefsel will be about 300 0 o

———

“Total sum to be rifked L. 850 0. ©

320 on revenue laws. Aug. 29+

If the duty on spirits was 3s. per gallon, proof,
the current price of Geneva, legally imported, would
be about 4s. per gallon, of the small strength; of
‘course 500 ankers, of 93 gallons each, if lawfully
imported, would be worth - L. G56" (0
But as purchasers of smuggled spirits

run arifk, the smuggler would not

procure somuch; there must there-

fore be deducted an allowance for

that, suppose 10 ger cent. - = 97 10 ©
ae
So the produce of the cargo which
cost, L. 550 is a ae L. 877 10 0

Yielding a clear profit, if the cargo be clearly
got off, of L.327, 1os.; and there is L. 800 sub-
jected to the rifk of seizure at sea; and "Li 550
at land. Now, supposing this rifk to be in the
proportion of two-thirds at sea and one-third at
land, which I would apprehend to be abont a just
computation, the average sum hazarded would be
L. 717 so that the smuggler would save himself in
getting clearly away with 24 cargoes for every one
he loses.

‘The duty on gin is at present 5s. 10d. per
gallon, proof; and spirits of the strength mentioned,
usually go off, at the Customhouse sales, at about 5 s.
8d. per gallon; and as the purchasers must have a
good profit, in consideration of the trouble, time, and
intrigue, employed about the businefs, I suppose
that smugglers can sell at the same rate ; in” which

¥792. on revenue laws. 328

‘case, a-cargo’ of the above description would bring
OES eed Real Bae

And the cost the same as before 850 0 ©

‘So that, in this case, there is aprofitofL.531 5 ©

With not a farthing more rifk than in the other
‘instance ; so that a smuggler now saves himself, if
he can get clear away with 1% cargoes for every one
he loses. m

The inference to be drawn from the above, ts,
that if, by their exertions, the servants of the
‘crown could seize two vefsels and their cargoes, out
‘of three and one-fourth, and no more, smuggling
would be entirely annihilated, in the case of the duty
‘being 3s. per gallon; butin the case of its being §s.
‘and 10d. as it is at present, there would be a profit
of very neatly 25 per cent. on the stock so em-
ployed ; and the money, would be turned over com-
pletely in the space of three or four months.

This statement may be erroneous in some parti-
eulars (as 1am no smuggler,) but that the general
‘principle is founded in truth, I do not think will be
denied.

Hence it appears evident ‘that there is a certain
rate at which the duties ought to be fixed, in order
to prevent smuggling ; and that if they were fixed at
that rate, that branch of trade would infalhibly fall
to the ground.

It is very certain that the duty is by no means
low enough at present to prevent smuggling, unlefs
we establifh yet more revenue cruizers, excise of-
ficers, 2c. (with which we are far too much clogged

TOL. X. $s t

322 on revenue laws. Aug. 296
already,) for there are at present lyingin Leith har-
bour, ten vefsels that have been condemned for smug-
gling spirits, many of which must, agreeably to the
law, be broken up and the materials sold. And there
is scarcely a week pafses without a prize of some
denomination being brought up by the honourable
captain Cochran of the Hind, captain Ogilvy of the
Royal George, or captain Elder of the Royal Char-
lotte, the laudable exertions of whom I cannot re-
frain from taking notice of on this occasion.

At the same time it must be observed, that the
duty cannot at present be greatly above the standard
at which smuggling, during the present establifhment,
would be thrust out; as the, observing reader will
remark, that a very small sum in the duty makes a
very great difference in the profits of the smuggler.
And, moreover, I know from my personal informa-
tion from smugglers themselves, that it 1s now what
is termed a bare trade, yielding little pay for much
labour, although the great'allurement held forth by
the prospect of considerable gain does still keep it
up.

In fhort I am confident that if the duty were re-
duced to 4s. 8d. per gallon, which is the present
duty on rum, all illicit trade in spirits worth no-
ticing would fall to the ground.

This part of the subject will be continued in the
next paper of TRADER POLITICAL.

Leith, 1792+

cee por
—«

x 792. , on witdorn and wealth. 323

ON WISDOM AND WEALTH, AN ALLEGORY.

O dea certe! VIRG.

Iy the beginning of things, before experience had in-
structed either celestial or terrestrial beings in the
consequences attending the indulgence of different
pafsions and affections, a dispute arose for prece-
dency between Wisdom and Wealth. The contest
was to be decided before the throne of Jupiter.

In advancing to that awful tribunal, Wealth was
the foremost, and afsumed to herself the right of
first addrefsing the god. She was preceded by two
gorgeous lacqueys, who were known to be Pride and
Arrogance ; and was followed by the revel rout of
noisy and tumultuous Luxury. She was herself
sumiptuously, but not elegantly apparelled. Her
robes were of cloth of gold, adorned and embroidered
with a profusion of gems and colours. She wore on
her head a most splendid tiara, loaded with gold and
jewels. ‘‘I,’’ said fhe, ‘‘ O! Jupiter, have the best
right to precedence. By me man fhall enjoy all the
pleasures of life. By me he fhall dwell in magnificent
palaces, be carried in superb carriages, be arrayed
with the finest raiment, feed upon the most dainty
Viands, and live upon earth even the life of the gods.
Let me add, O Jupiter! that by giving me: prece-
dence thou wilt study thine own interest ; for by me
man fhall be enabled to do thee homage in lofty tem-
ples and with costly oblations.’? She ceased, scarce-
ly deigning to yield obeisance, even to him who sat
on the throne of Olympus.

724 on wisdom and. wealth. Aug... UF.

Meantime Wisdom advanced, arrayed in white.
robes, and having over them an azure mantle, as a:
symbol of the consistency and permanency of her be=
nefits. She wore a veil. Her approach was. modest
and respectful to the Divinity. She was attended by
an old man, whose hoary locks deserved veneration,.
and. whose piercing eye seemed as if it would dart
its beams into the darkest obscurity. He -+was.
known to be Learning, the tutor of Wisdom, and who.
attended her at present to support her in her contest,
to invigorate her addrefs, and abafh Wealth and.
her vain-glorious attendants. ‘ O! Jupiter,” said.
Wisdom, with composed but modest speech, ‘“ if I
may trust the indications of my own mind, and the:
suggestions of this venerable sage, I fhall contribute
largely to the improvement of the human race. Of’
their pleasures I make little account; but by pro-
moting their improvement I fhall enlarge their hap-
pinefs. By the invention of useful arts, I fhall enable-
them to overcome all the difficulties of their condi-.
tion. By me, they fhall, with perfect security, tra~.
verse the billows of the boundlefs deep. By me:
they {hall obtain that opulence which is so much ex-.
tolled; and not only so, but by me alone they fhall
b able to enjoy it. . Without me, it will be to them:
only a source of discord, of strife, and of anxiety. By:
me too, though they fhould not obtain riches, they
willlearn to be happy without them. By me they
fhall obtain tranquillity, peace of mind, and content=.
ment. By me they fhall live in friendly society ; and
by me they fhall at length arise to celestial mana
sions.”

E7g2. - on the prosperity of states. 325

Wealth, during the speech of Wisdom, felt herself
so much abafhed, that fhe would have anticipated the
decree of Jupiter, and retired. But by the sugges-
tigas of her two menials, fhe afsumed, in her depar-
ture, an air of pretended conftdence and superiority ;
and said, ‘‘ fhe set no value onthe award of Jupiter ;
for that by her own means fhe would readily obtain
from innumerable votaries and admirers, sufficient
superiority.”*

The beams of celestial favour ifsuing from the
throne of heaven, in the form of a radiant crown, in-
vested the head of Wisdom..

JuLiana.

,

4 See ee eae po

HINTS ON THE PROSPERITY OF STATES.

It is commonly remarked, that “ nothing permanent-
ly great can be expected from a nation enjoying the
means, and in the habits of luxury.” Reflecting on
_this remark I have been led to the following obser-
vations.

Amongst rude nations, even those who have least
of all fhaken off their native barbarism, an attention
to the obligations of virtue is no common qualifica-
tion. Indeed it is difficult to discover what virtue
is practised im uncivilized states, or even in those in
which civilization hath made but small progrefs. A
promiscuous commerce of the sexes, obtains in unci-~
vilized states in general, and is found in the rudest
nations which pretend to civilization, A free use
of spirituous liquors is common to all countries
which are acquainted with distilling. Ornaments
in drefs are more sought after than even useful

326 on the prosperity of states. Aug. 29.
covering, in nations of no refinement in science.
Honesty is not the virtue of savages, as captain Cook
hath fhewn us, by his observations on the natives of
the South Sea islands; nor indeed can there be any
honesty where the distinction of private property is
not known. Let no one, therefore, when he ob-
serves difsimulation, intemperance, and debauchery,
in highly civilized nations, conclude that these are
all the children of luxury and refinement; or believe
the descriptions of poets, who paint the manners of
rude nations free from every taint of crime. — Let
us inquire how luxury, and what degree of it, tends
to destroy the consequence of nations and states.

This can only be in the following ways: First, by
totally debasing the moral principle ; or second, by
destroying the health, and consequently the strength
and energy of men.

There are two ways in which luxury tends to de-
base the moral principle, jirst, by the means which
rich and luxurious people enjoy, of corrupting the
moral principle, by presenting temptations to men
which overcome their power of resistance. And, se-
condly, by tye power which riches give a man of in-
dulging every desire and appetite. But the second of
these sources operates directly ‘in destroying the
health, and therefore must be considered under that
clafs which we have before pointed out as tending to
destroy the energy of man.

The tendency of wealth to corrupt man, by bribing
him into crimes ; is of the most alarming nature, and
threatens the ruin of kingdoms. Bur this is most
felt. where wealth, or the means of luxury, is in few
hands; and nations which are enriched by conquest

2792. on the prosperity of states. 327
are most in danger of experiencing tle effects of this
evil. . This application of the means of luxury, and
their being thus procured, and in few hands, was the
teal cause of the ruin and downfall of the Roman
empire. Commercial nations are not subject to so
speedy a destruction from this cause; for commerce
diffuses the means of wealth into many hands, and
by that means prevents the fatal influence of in-
dividuals of overgrown fortune. Commerce being
much attended to by many, divides the profit of it,
and consequently lefsens this effect. In England,
commerce has got the very best tendency ; for the
lands are many of them held from the lords by long
leases; and the riches of commerce enables the
tradesman to purchase, and thus to emancipate him-
self and family ; and many of the lands are held,
from the feudal tenure, by payment of an arbitrary
fine on the death of lord and tenant; and commerce
enables the landholder to buy his lands free. As the
means of corruption were formerly, and are greatly
yet, in the hands of the lords, commerce operates in
its effects as a check to such corruption, as it enables
the inferior clafs to emancipate themselves, and act
an honest and independent part. The lordly fortunes
from India indeed,.in the hands of a few individuals,
are an objection to this reasoning ; and it is perhaps
doubtful whether this source of luxury and corrup-
tion be a good to England.

I do not consider the luxury, or rather the means
of luxury, of any nation of Europe, at all threatening
at present in this view of. the subject. For where
Tiches are in the hands of a few, and but a very few,
the danger from this quarter seems greatest.

328 on the prosperity of states. ° Aug. 29.

We are now to consider the second great source of
injury from luxury, namely, its destroying the
health and energy of men. As the danger is great-
erin the former view of the subject, when riches
are confined to a few persons; so, in this view, the
danger is greatest, when the greatest number of in-
dividuals pofsefs the means of luxury. Now, IJ de
presume that the health and energy of man, (and
consequently his power of defence) can never be de-
stroyed by luxury, until the means of indulgence
ean be procured by him, without that exerctse which
is necefsary to keep his frame in proper tone. Now
when we consider the very great numbers who are
cut off with too severe labour in this, and every other
nation, and the labour necefsary to procure the means
of life, from the bulk of the people, I think we have
not yet much to fear from this quarter. Besides, |
great refinement, and an advanced state of know-
ledge, has been found favourable in preventing one
kind of fatal intemperance in. some degree, namely,
the excefsive use of spirituous liquors. 2

We are not to estimate the national luxury, and
national character, from the inhabitants of Lon-
don or Paris, or other large towns. Except in the
large towns, the means of luxury have little exis-
tence in France, England, or America, or few other
countries. More perifh through the want of food and
cleanlinefs, than by luxury. At present, then, we
need not tremble for the state on account of luxury :
let us attempt political reformation ; and count upon
many centuries of dignity and consequence, before
luxury fhall overturn our empire. N,N.

POETRY.

THE DISAPPOINTMENT.

Spem fefellit. Virc.

I.

From the long toils of travel I return’d,
Well pleas’d at length to see my native fhore 5
‘For Betsy still my faithful bosom burn’d,
For Betsy’s heart was all her sailor's store.
Ii.
‘With eager steps I sought the rural cot,
Where dwelt my love in peaceful lowly state,
- And liv’d contented with her humble lot,
Far from the cares and.grandeur of the great.
1il. ;
Silent and leaflefs was the neighb’ring wood,
Torn by the fury of the raging winds ;
- And the gay spot where once the cottage stood,
Lone and forsaken by the rural hinds.
Iv.
The swelling main urg’d by the boist’rous wind,
With wide spread billows swept th’ adjacent fhore ;
“No trace of the loy’d cot was left behind,
Save the old oak that grew-beside the door.
V.
As o’er an elm I bent in silent woe,
And gaz’d with sorrow o’er the dreary scene; .
An ancient fhepherd from the mountain’s brow
With tott’ring footsteps pafs’d along the green,
VI.
*< Oh lonely vet’ran of the plain,” I cried,
<¢ Tell, if thou can’st,—alas! ‘tis all I crave, -
*¢ Is Betsy safe?’’—his tears alone replied,
And pointed to the yew that’ nodded o’er her grave.
King’s college, Aberdeen. ACADEMICUS,

‘THOMSON TO MISS-YOUNG * WITH A PRESENT OF THE SEASONS.

For the Bee.

Accept, lov’d nymph! this tribute due
To tender friendfhip love and you;

But with it take what breath’d the whole,
O! take to thine the poet’s soul.

If fancy here her power displays,

And if a heart exalts these lays,—

You fairest in that fancy fhine,

And all that heart is fondly thine. \

* Amanda.
VoL. x, TT +

330 poetry. ‘> tug. 29.

MARTIAL, LIB. Xii. EPIG. 21. IMITATED. *

For the Bee.

W uo could believe, Marcella, that thy birth

Had dignified this humble ‘nook of earth?

That so much wit, and eloquence, and taste,

Had sprung untutor’d from this lonely waste ?

Ev’n Rome, proud emprefs of the world, would claim,
Were half thy talents known, her portion of thy fame.
Not the whole daughters of her ancient line,

Can boast a single spouse of worth like mine ;

For Rome, and all I lov’d, no more I mourn,

In thee concenter’d all her charms return. EMILIivus.

——
MARTIAL, LIB, Xl. EPIG. 34. IMITATED.

For the Bee.

Turrce ten revolving years at least,
Dear Julius have we been acquainted 5

And both upon the whole been blest,
Though daily with vexation tainted.

When foes revil’d, or friends betray’d,

Our hearts have wrung perhaps with sorrow3
But a firm effort always made

Complete resources for tc-morrow.

‘The way to fhun a thousand woes,
Entail’d by nature on existence,

Is to let neither friends nor. foes
Intrude within a guarded distances

For why repine at vice elate,
For injur’d worth our courage drown3
Let us who cannot alter fate,
Mind no man’s bus’nefs but our owr. Square ToEsa

AN EPIGRAM FROM A COLLECTION OF POEMS NEVER PUBLISHED.
For the Bee,
Cares Celia to a rev’rend dean,
What reason can be given,
Since marriage is a holy thing,
That there are none in heaven?

There are no women, he replied.
She quick returns the Jest:

Women there are; but I’m afraid
They cannot find a priest.

V7Q%. on manufactures. 333

HINTS RESPECTING THE PROGRESS OF MANUFACTURES,
AND THEIR PRESENT STATE IN SCOTLAND.

Tue manufactures of Scotland continue to prosper in a
surprising degree. Every day produces some new im-
provement on the old, or some useful invention for lay-
ing the foundation of new manufactures there. It is a
pleasing thing to contemplate these progrefsive improve-
ments, in the low and populous parts of the country. How
much is it to be regretted, that it does not extend over
the whole !
; Cotton manufacture.

It is scarcely fifteen years since the first yard of cottor
cloth was woven in this country ; and only about twelve
years since the first mill for carding and spinning cotton
wool was erected ; now, there are at least a dozen cotton
mills on a large scale, containing from three to four thousand
spindles each, going both night and day, besides an inde-
finite number of smaller ones in every part of the country.
Yet such is the demand for the cotton manufactures of Scot-
land, that all these are insufficient for keeping the wea+
vers at work; so that cotton yarn, to the value of more
than L.500,000 is annually imported from England.
Riders from the continent are now seen frequently in
Scotland, not for the purpose of taking commifsions for
their own manufactures, but for commifsioning the manu-
factures of this country.

Woollen carded and spun by machinery.

The difference between the mode of manufacturing cot-
tom and animal wool is so small, that, after the succef
ful operations on cotton by machinery, it was not to be
expécted attempts would not be made to card and spin
animal wool in the same way. For some time these at-

332 on manufactures. . Aig. 29; .
tempts were not succefsfu] ; the exact variation that was re-
quired on the machinery, could not at once be precisely
ascertained. Succefsive trials, however, at last brought
about the discovery. Many machines for carding and
spinning wool have been erected in England, and some in
Scotland, which have been found to succeed extremely
well. This branch of manufacture is, however, still in its in- -
fancy, and we only here note it to mark the progrefs of im-
provements. One machine has been erected at Dundee, for
coarse wool chiefly. Another has been just set agoing at»
Edinburgh, for the finest kinds of wool, which performs .
its operations with amazing delicacy and accuracy; sothat
there seems to be no room to doubt, that our fine woollen .
fabrics will be very much improved by that circumstance, .
the price of goods thereby diminifhed, and the extent of ©
sale of course proportionally augmented. Both these ma- .
chines are on a small scale, and being establifhed in places ,
where running water cannot. be had, as.a-moving power,
they can be considered only as experimental efsays. .
Linen yarn spun by machinery.

This isa farther extension of Mr. Arkwright’s discoves .
ries. It was long doubted whether it would be. pofsible-
to get flax spun by machinery ;—the succefs of several
trials both in Scotland and England, have fully establithed.
its practicability. Some time ago a machine was erected |
jn the neighbourhood of Dundee for spinning coarse:tow,
{the fhort stuff that comes from flax in the drefsing) which.
has been found to answer extremely well, Another mill’
has been erected near Leven,.in Fife, for spinning fine
flax. ‘This is an improvement on the original machine e~.
rected at- Darlington in. England, which. was. not. found
to answer at first the expectations of the undertakers. That
at Leven, we are alsured, makes yarn of such an excellent

ia

I7O2w. on manufactures? 333°
fabric, that’ the’ demand for it far exceeds the quantity.
they. can produce, |

| Weaving by machinery.

This has been attempted in several places, we are toldi
with succefs; and it is here mentioned barely to mark
the period when this improvement began to be adopted ;
for it has not yet been carried to a great extent any.
where. ‘There can be no doubt but in time it will be-
come universal, in'regard to all fabrics that consist of a-
strong chain-or warp.
® Glafs manufacture.

About thirty years ago there was only one glafs house:
company in Scotland ; the hands working half the year
at Leith, and half the year at Glasgow ; and their ope-
rations were so languid, that one house now. will perform:
more than double-the work this could then execute ; there
are now- six glafs houses at Leith alone, besides a great
many others in different parts of the country.

At the time I first mention, nothing else than bottles;
of coarse green: glafs was made there; and-to that article,.
the glafs house company at Leith confined their efforts,
till about a dozen years ago, when they began to make fine
glafs for phials, and other articles of that nature. About”
four years ago, they introduced the manufacture of crown”
glafs for windows, whichithey now make in great perfecti-
on, and in considerable quantities.

After they began to manufacture white glafs, they fell
into the way of cutting it for ornament, and. engraving
upon it. In this last department they have reached a
higher degree of perfection than it has perhaps any where
else ever yet attained. A young man who. was bred to
that businefs, having discovered a taste in designing,
and’ an elegance of execution that was very uncommon,
the’ proprietors: of ‘the work were at. pains to give

334 on manufactures. Aug. 20:
him évery aid in the att of drawing that this place ‘can af-
ford. and he has exhibited some specimens of his powers
in that line, that are believed to be unrivalled.

» It is bat of yesterday that this glafs house company,
who are ina very flourifhing state, encouraged by their
succefs in other respects, introduced the art of preparing
glafs in imitation of gems, and of cutting it in facets, and
working it into elegant forms for chandeliers, and other
ornamental kinds of furniture. In this department their
very first attempts have been highly succefsful ;—and they
have now executed some pieces of work, that they need
not be afhamed to compare with the best that can be
procured elsewhere.

Iron manufacture.

It is about forty years since the Carron company was
establifhed near Falkirk. Their object was to smelt
iron from its ore, and to cast it into various utensils;
They also carry on the branch of making forged iron,
This was the first manufacture that was seen in Scotland,
carried on upon a large scale, and it was resorted to from
all parts of the country to be viewed as a wonder. It con-
tinued the only wonder of its kind in Scotland for many
years, and pofsefsed a kind of monopoly of that branch of
businefs; but gradually some private undertakers ventu-
red into that businefs on a smaller scale, and with lefs vari-
ety of undertakings. Some contented themselves with
barely smelting the ore, and making pig iron, while others,
buying that pig iron ready made, confined their views
entirely to the making utensils or articles of utility from
it. In this way small founderies are establifhed in many
parts of the country, where innumerable articles, that are
wanted for the accommodation of the people, are made at
a lefs expence, and perhaps in greater perfection than at.
the larger works, The efiects of monopoly are thus done

1792. on bleaching flax. 335
away. Individuals have an opportunity of getting their
small orders executed to their mind, and the public are
thus properly served.

To supply the demand that thus arises for pig iron,
smelting houses are daily starting up in parts of the coun-
try, where nothing of this kind was ever before thought of.
Coal and iron stone, in the internal parts of the country,
which were formerly of no value to the proprietors, become
the sources of opulence to him, and of wealth to a numerous
people, whose industry is thus exerted, where only poverty
and indolence must otherwise for ever have prevailed.
Roads and canals, for conveying these articles to market,
become necefsary; so that efforts are now making for
carrying these into effect, in parts of the country where
otherwise nothing of this kind could ever have been
dreamt of.

One iron work has been lately establifhed by Mr
Edington, on the banks of the Clyde, on such an extensive
scale, as bids fair for rivalling that of the Carron company
itself. And another at Muirkirk, in conjunction with
the making of coal tar, in an inland part of the country,
where, without that valuable discovery, both the coal and
the iron stone, which there abound, must have remained
for ages of no use to the proprietor or the public.

A NEW AND IMPORTANT DISCOVERY. , |

Tue Editor was lately fhown two samples of flax, one
parcel of each of them was in the state it had been left
by the drefser ; another parcel of each was of the same
quality, but white and well bleached. He was afsu-
red that these were parts of the same flax and hemp
with the unbleached parcels, and that the operation of
whitening had been completely effected in the space of

336 to correspondents. Aug. 29.
half an hour, without the aid of acids of ‘any sort, either
dephlogisticated or otherwise, or alkalis. He was: far-
ther afsured that the procefs was extremely cheap and
easy: and upon examination he perceived that the strength
of the materials was not sensibly impaired by the procefs, _

In a fhort while he will be at liberty to communicate
farther particulars respecting this useful discovery. At ~
present the above is all he is permitted to say.

TO CORRESPONDENTS,

Tue communication by Benignus is received, and fhall be attended to.
he future correspondence of this gentleman will be very acceptable.

The hints respecting ambafsador Lockhaft are thankfully réteived.
The Editor will thank any of his readers for whatever authentic memoirs
they can furnith respecting this distinguifhed character.

The observations -of a schoolmaster pro tempore, are received, and fhoula
have readily had a place, were it not for their great length, and the fear
that they might lead to a long discuision, that would prove uninteresting
to most of the readers of the Bee. The Editor indeed yegtets that he was
inadvertently induced to give a place to the former observations on that
head, as he perceives they would give rise to long altercations which he is
determined as much as pofsible to avoid. Should any thing fhort, ana
particularly conclusive, on that side of the question, appear, it fhall be ins
serted as a final close to that discuision.

The above will equally apply to the communication by @ Tower of our
young Scots, for whose opinions the Editor has a great respect. This ela-
borate efsay would, indeed, be much better suited to form a pamphlet by
itself, than a paper in a periodical work, As aseparate publication, it
might be read with profit by many persons who have the welfare of this
country at heart. The manuscript ‘will be preserved for the use of the
author, if ever he fhould choose to demand it.

The Editor regrets, that ‘Ffubiter Fustice fhould have put himself to ‘so
much trouble in transcribing so much of a performance that he can make
no use of.. The Bee fhall never be employed for propagating scandal, or
encouraging lubricity.

Valeria is received; as also the curious remarks on the Chinese language.

The beneficent effusion of Liberalis is received. “He will observe that
it has been,in some measure anticipated by some papers lately inserted in
the Bee. We must not dwell too long on any one subject. He forgot to
pay the postage of his letter.

The letter to Hortensias came to hand, and fhall be duly attended to.

The performance of Gxatho is received, and fhall not be overlooked.

The anonymous publication on the borough reform is received. This is
a subject the Editor wifhes to avoid, for the same reason as he has aveid-
ed many other popilar topics, because he’ fears it might-give rise to warme
and acrimonious altercations. The Editor, however,-entertain3 great re~
spect for the intentions of the writers

eS EE ES

SHORT CHRONICLE

OF EVENTS.

a ann mere tee
July 25. 1792.

Foreicn.
India.

‘The Bombay gazette, da-
ted 29th February, states, that
major Cuppage’s detachment
‘was encamped at the foot of
the Guzerety Pafs, where he
was joined daily by a number
of deserters from the enemy,
who report that there was a
general disaffection among Tip-
poo’s troops; that Tippoo had
‘found himself under the necef-

sions to Comora Odin Khan,
who, on the other hand, deem-
ed it prudent to sacrifice feel-
ing and honour upon the altars
_of ambition and avarice; and
that they are now friends, at
east in appearance. ‘The same
advices mention, that the ra-
jabs on the Malabar coast had
declared an intention to throw
_off the tyrant’s yoke, and ear-
nestly desired his overthrow.
etter from L. Cornwallis to

Sir Charles Oakeley.

Camp near Seringapatam,

Sis, Feb. 8. £792.

“ On the sth inst. I encamped f

about seven miles to the north-

VOL, X- a

sity of making certain concef- }

ward of Seringapatam, from
whence I saw that Tippoo had,
according to. my information,.
taken a position on the north
bank of the river, with its
fronts and flanks covered by
a bound hedge, and a number
of ravines, swamps, and water
courses, and likewise fortified
by a chain of strong redoubts,
full of cannon, as well as by
the artillery of the» fort, and
of the works on the island.
“Tt would have cost us agreat
many men to have att acked the
camp in the day, and perhaps
the succefs might not have been
quite certain; I determined,
therefore, to make the t.empt
in the night, and fort is pur-
pose I marched on the 6th, as
soon after sunset as the troops
could be formed in three divi-
sions. The right division com-
mauded by general Meadows,
and the central division, under
my immediate direction, were
destined for the attack of the
enemy’s camp, and the division
on the left, consisting of four
battalions, under lieutenant co-
louel Maxwell, was ordered to

3

ie

attack the works that the ene-

my were constructing on the

heights above the Karrigat Pa-
oda.

‘* The officers commanding the
leading corps in the right and
center divisions were directed,
after driving the enemy from
their camp, to endeavour to
pursue them through the river,
and estabtifh themselves on the
island ; and it was recommend-
-ed to lieutenant colonel Max-
well, to, attempt to pafs the
river, if, after having pofsefsed
himself of the heights, he saw
that our attack on the camp
was succefsful.

“The left and center divi-
Sions were so fortunate as to
accomplifh completely the ob-
jects proposed. Lieutenant
colonel Maxwell gained the
heights, and ‘afterwards pafsed
the river, and the first five corps
of the center division crofsed o-
ver‘to the island, leaving me in
pofsefsion of the camp, which
-was standing, and of all the ar-
tillery of the enemy’s right
wing.

“ The division of the right,
by some of those accidents to
whichall operationsin the night
are liable, approached’ much
too near a very strong detached
work, which it was not my in-
tentioa to afsault that night,
and which must have fallen in-
to our hands without giving us
any trouble, if we succeeded
in forcing the enemy’s camp.

“ The advanced guard enga-

kustorical chroaicle.

ged in the attack of this work,

before they could be prevented
by the officers in the front of
the column, and the latter who
had been used to carry forts
with great facility, did not
think it necefsary, or, perhaps,
creditable, to oblige them to

‘desist ; but the garrison of this

redoubt conducted themselves
very differently from those |
which we had lately met with,
and their resistance was so ob-
stinate, that it was not carried
without costing us several lives,
and a very considerable delay.

“ By this time the firing at
the center attack had ‘entirely
ceased, and general Meadows,
condluding from that circum-
stance that I was in complete
polsefsion of the whole of the
enemy’s camp, and apprehen-
ding that a part of his corps
might be wanted to support
the troops on the island, wifh-
ed to communicate with me as:
speedily as pofsible.

“ Some guides, who under-
took to lead his division to join.
mine by a direet road, conduc-
ted him to the Karrigat Pago-
da without his meeting with
me, and day-light was then toe.

/near to admit of his underta-

king any’ farther operations.
““'Phese untoward circum-
stances didnot depriveus of any
of the solid advantages of our:
victory, for we are in pofsefsi~
on of the whole of the enemy’s.
redoubts, of all the ground on
the north side of the-river, and

Jistorical chroniele.

ef eteat part of the island; but
as the force with which I re-
_mained in the enemy’s camp
did not much exceed. three
battalions ; and as I found
from parties that I sent out,
that the left wing of Tippoo’s
army kept their ground all
night, I could not bring off any
trophies from the field, except
those which were near the
spot where our imprefsion was
made.

“T have not yet been able
to. ascertain, with precision,
the number of guns that have
fallen into our hands, but I un-
derstand that of brafs and iron
it amounts to upwards of sixty
of different callibres.

_ “I fhall take up my ground

to-morrow as near to the chain
of redoubts as pofsible, without
being exposed to the fire of
the fort ; and as our posts up-
on the island are now nearly
secured against any attempt of
the enemy,I fhall soon be ready
to proceed with vigour upon
the operations of the siege.

“It has been hitherto im-
pofsible to collect the returns
of killed and wounded, but I
have every reason to hope that
our lofs in Europeans will be
under 200.. Major Close will
send to Mr Jackson a list of
the officers that. were killed,
in order to prevent the anxious
alarms of the friends of the
survivors, I am,” &c,

iil
Letter from L. Cornwallis to
Sir Charles Oakeley, bart.
Camp near Seringapatat,
Srr, Feb. 24.1792.

‘¢ Being very much hurried, I
have only time to tell you,
that preliminaries were settled
last night; that a cefsation of
hostilities has taken place this
day ; and that two of Tippoo’s
sons are expected in our camp
this evening.

“ T transmit a translation of
the preliminary articles, and’
request that you will be plea-
sed to forward eopies of them
both to Bengal and Bombay.

“ If, by any accident, the
Vestal fhould not have sailed
before this letter reaches Ma-
dras, you will be so kind as
desire captain Ofborne to re-
main until he hears farther
from me. Iam,” &c.

Copy of the preliminary articles
agreed upon and exchanged,
dated Feb. 22. 1792.

1. One half of the dominions
which were in the pofsefsion of
Tippoo Sultan at the com-
mencement of the present war ~
fhall be ceded to the allies, ad-
jacent to their respective bour-.
daries, and agreeably to their
selection.

2. Three crores, and thirty
lacks of Sicca rupees, fhall Le
paid to the allies, agreeably to
the following particulars, viz.

First, one crore, and sixty-
five lacks fhall be paid imme-
diately in pagodas, or gold mo-
hurs, or rupees of full weight

WW
and standard, or in gold or
silver bullion.

Second, the remainder, one
crore, and sixty-five lacks, at
three instalments, not exceed-
ing four months each, in the
three coins before mentioned.

3. All subjects of the four
several powers, who may have
been prisoners from the time
of the late Hyder Ally Khan
to the present period, fhall be
fairly and unequivocally relea-
sed,
4. Upon the due perform-
ance of the three articles above
mentioned, two of the three
eldest sons of Tippoo Sultan
fhall be given as hostages, on
the arrival of whom a cefsation
of hostilities fhall take place.

s. When an agreement, con-
taining the articles above writ-
ten fhall arrive, bearing the
seal and signature of ‘lippoo
Sultan, counter agreements
fhall be sent from the three
powers; and, after the cefsa-
tion of hostilities, such a de-
finitive treaty Of perpetual
friendfhip, as fhall be settled
by the several parties, fhall be
adjusted and entered into.

Poland.

Warsaw, June 20. The
Rufsians after the actions near
Mir, attempted to take polsef-
sion of the castle there; a
place belonging to prince Rad-
zivil; but the artillery mount-
ed on its walls forced them to
yetire with considerable lofs.

historical chronicle.

an account was received from
the camp of prince Joseph Po-
niatowiky, that he had retired
farther within the country. ‘The
officialdetail of thisretreat is not
yet publifhed, but the follow-
ing is said to be the substance
of it :

The rear-guard of the Ruf
sian army advanced by forced
marches for a day and a night
with such rapidity, as to turn
both our flanks without being
perceived. The rest of their
troops they movedforward, and
we saw ourselves surrounded
on all sides,

Qur general collecting cou-
rage in proportion to the dan-
ger, immediately resolved to
open his way over the bodies
of the enemy. His orders
were instantly ifsued; our
troops moved boldly forward ;
attacked the Rufsians on the
flank of our camp, broke and
marched through them with
our baggage and cannon. ;

Nothing could resist the Po-
lifh impetuosity ; and this re--
treat was made with an order
and regularity that would have |
done honour to the most illus-
trious general.

In the mean time, the Rufsi-
ans in front of our camp, infor-
med of what was pafsing, mo-
ved in a body to succour their
broken wing; but they came
too late.

Prince Joseph Poniatowkky

covered his rear with two bat-

June 22. On the 2oth inst.jtalions of the flower of his ar-

my: 500 men almost renew-
ed the spectacle of Thermop-
yla, and made the enemy pay
dearly for the advantage of oc-
cupying the ground which we
were obliged to abandon, but
not till we had bathed it with
their blood.—Of these 500
brave men, not one thought of
retreating after the army : but
each covered with his body
the spot on which he had
fought.

June 23. The following
intelligence is just received
from the camp of prince Po.
niatowfky, near Zaclaw, dated
the 19th instant :-—

The two armies began the
cannonade on the 17th instant.
two miles from Zaclaw, which
lasted from seven in the mor-
ning till five in the after-
soon. At last our troops got
the better, broke into the right
wing of the enemy, and put
them entirely to flight. Soon
after the left wing left the
field of battle, and our troops
being masters of the same, con-
tinued there for two hours,
and then withdrew to the
camp. We lost 800 men and
300 horses. The enemy’s lofs
is said to be more consider-
able.

This day Warsaw gazette,

men, who were to protect
prince Poniatowfky’s rear-
uard, were defeated by the
nemy.

We have accounts here, that

however, mentions, that 500:

historical chronicle. ¥

prince Poniatowfky attacked
eneral Kutusaff, chaced the
Tiittings twice from a vil-
lage near Daslaw, defeated a
great number, made some _pri-
soners, and took a pair of co»
lours. Our lofs was not so
considerable; 150 infantry,
and 400 cavalry were killed.
M. Wielohorfky lost 700 in-
fantry, and three or four hun-
dred cavalry. We also lost .
several guns. ,

June 20. Some days ago, the
account of the Rafsians emter-
ing Wilna was made public here.

Two battles have’ taken
place ; the one on the roth of
June, where we lost seventy
men; and the second on the
yith, which did not last long.
We were obliged to retreat,
which we efiected in the bese
order. oth battles were
fought near Mire and Swir-
zen.

The king will go this week
to Kozimice, and from thence
to the camp at Lubor, in order
to act in conjuction with gene-
ral Poniatowiky.

Minsk is in polsefsion of the
Rufsians. i

The following letter from
the camp of prince Poniatows-

| ky, dated the 14th instant, has

just been received :

“ We have just received
accounts of a battle fought
near Sieniawka, under majorPe-
rakladowfky, who encountered
2co Cofsacks and beat them ;
but pursuing them too far, he

vi
fel] in with two other parties
of Cofsacks. While he was re-
treating he was attacked in
flank by a party of Cofsacks.
Some hundred men were killed
on both sides, and the major
himself taken prisoner, ‘The
result of the battle of Mire in
Lithuania, was, that our troops
retired in good order to Nie-
wiez.. The Rufsians entered
the city, but were repelled bv
the ramparts of the castle;
on which occasion a great
number was killed.’

An armistice is talked of here,
during © which negociations
will take place, in order to make
up matters if pofsible with-
out farther effusion of blood.

Miscellaneous.

We are informed, that in the
town of Bafseterre, about the
middle of April last, the inha-
bitants were visited with the
most tremenduous hurricane
ever remembered; that the
storm continued several days,
and proved very detrimental
to the lives and property of
all those residing on the island,
that “ whole theets of rain”
fell with such impetuosity, as
to cause the overthrow of
buildings; that the water from
this unexpected deluge was se-
veral feet deep in all the
streets 5 that catks, logs of
wood, cattle, and even men
and women, were swept away

promiscuously in the torrent;
and that many lives and estates

historical chrontctle.

were totally destroyed. It is
impofsible to conceive the hor-
rors arising from the cries of

the unhappy sufferers, the whites —

and blacks perifhing without
distinction by the same calami-
tye w
About 300 negroes perifhed
in Batseterre alone; and there —
is scarcely a mile of the island
but what lias visible marks of
this visitation of providence.

In Nevis, St Eustatia, and
all the adjacent islands, the
rains were experienced, al-
though not in such a dreadful
degree; neither do we learn
that any lives: have been lost
in these last mentioned places.

It is thought that some
years will be necefsary to re-
pair the damages sustained.

It is with pleasure we men-
tion, that the inhabitants of
the town of Bafsetere, and o-
ther parts of the island, have
been plentifully supplied with
provisions, and necelsaries of
all kinds.

In Ja Fayette’s account of
the attack made by the Aus-
trians on his advanced guard
at Maubeuge, it is said, ‘‘ that
the enemy suflered considera-
bly from his cannon, and par-
ticularly from four pieces of,
artillery on horseback”, — ‘This
truly singular species of ord-
nance is, we understand, the
invention of an ingenious
gentleman of Glasgow, and

historical chronicle.

was communicated by him to
M. la Fayette in summer last.

The’ free cities of the re-

public of Poland, have pre-
sented twelve canncn, twenty-
four waggons of four wheels,
and 150 horses to the Diet.
- The king of Hungary’s in-
tended visit to Coblentz and
the combined army against
France is given up. The
duke of Brunswick is to com-
mand that army, and it was
thought inconsistent with his
majesty’s dignity, to visit an
army not commanded by a
subject of his own.

Letters from New York,
by the Betsey, captain Mes-
nard, mention the particulars
of a severe and wide-spreading
calamity, which has occurred
there in consequence of an ex-
cefsive speculation in the
funds of the United States.
Two hundred failures have oc-
curred there within these last
two months.

The six per cents, which
lately sold at 24s. 6d. the
pound, have been as low as
19s. The three per cents and
deferred debt, fell in the same
proportion. Half bank fhares,
which about two months since
‘sold at 210 per cent, have been
sold at 95. In consequence
‘of this fall, some of the tirst
people there have been sunk at
once from opulence to begga-
ry. Its general effect has rea-
ched to every description of
citizens,

vin

This intelligence will forci-
bly operate against the credit
of their intercourse with this
country.

“At no time since the . fa-
tal 23d of August 1791, have
the affairs of Hispaniola been
in a more distracted state than
they are-at the present mo-
ment. "The innumerable fac-
tions into which the people
are divided, weaken every ef-
fort for the general good, and
all is confusion and dismay.

“ The situation of the town
of Cape Francois. was, by
late advices from that quarter, -
reported to be so perilous, that
in the dark nights the sentinels
are sometimes stabbed at their
posts 5 so great is the temerity
of the revolters, encouraged
without doubt, by the discord
and disunion which reign a-
mong the inhabitants.

“ By the last account however
from St-Mark’s, in Hispaniola,
we learn, that peace and order
were again establifhed at that
place, a number of the most
turbulent and refractory ha-
ving been arrested and thrown
into prison, wich the approba-
tion and afsistance of the
chiefs of their party. The
exportation of cotton, there-
fore, from that quarter, which
had experienced a temporary
interruption, is again likely
to be renewed.”

Letters were received
the mail of 16th from Holland
announcing the demise of prince:

eve

vill

Ferdinand duke of Brunswick,
who died a few days since of
an apoplexy in the 72d year
of his age.

_ Vienna June 23. The fortrefs
of Choczim is still in our pof
sefsion; it is by some belie-
ved, that in consequence of
the war between Rufsia and
Poland, ave fhall still remain
for an unlimited time in pof-
sefsion of this place; other
persons say that at the peace
of Czistove, it was agreed,
that the prisoners of the two
powers fhould be exchanged ;
our court scrupulously confor-
med, and restored all the
Turks, but some thousands of
Austrians who. fell into the
Turkith captivity are still mif-
sing.

As the Porte does not ap-
pear disposed to restore them,
our court, it is said, has decla-
red, that till the Diyan thall
have faithfully executed this
article, the fortrefs of Chocazim
will be kept in pofsefsion,

<3
———————

Domestic,
On July 6. came under
the review of the Court of
Sefsion, a reclaiming petition,

historical chronielés

the court, by' their first interlo~
cutor, had dismifsed the action,
and found Mr Mackenzie en- —
titled to a certain part of his
expences. But upon review-
ing that judgement their lord-
fhips, by a majority, (six to

five,) reduced the sales in que-

stion, thus altering their for-
mer interlocutor. They were
all clear that there was no
fraud in conducting the sales,
but the majority were of opi-
nion, that. a common agent
was barred from becoming a
purchaser of an estate, the ma-
nagement and sale of which
was committed to him by the
court ; and that it was incom-
patible for a person. acting as
agent for others, to be at the
same time seller and purchaser..
On these grounds chiefly the
sales were reduced, There

}were two votes put,—the first

Adhere or Alter, which stood
as follows: Adhere 5, Alter 6..
The next vote was, Whether

the reduction fhould be zm to-

tum, or the sale sustained, and:
damages given? and it carried
that the reduction fbould- be
in: toluri.

The president, whose vote
is only admifsible in case of e-

the action at the instance of| quality, gave his opinion, in fa-

the York Buildings Company
against Mr Alexander Mac-
kenzie, writer to the signet,
for reducing and setting aside
the sale of two lots of the e-
state of Winton, purchased

by that gentleman in 17793,

vour of Mr Mackenzie.

The cause is again to come:
under the review of the court
at the instance of Mr Macken, |
zie.

ee

SHORT CHRONICLE

OF EVENTS.

a er oe
August 15. 1792,
———

Foreicn.
France.
‘Quem Deus vult perdere prius
. dementit. The national afsem-
bly of France at present seems
to be seized with a wonderful
degree of infatuation. While
a powerful confederacy is for-
med to inyade their dominions,
and while tumult and disorder
reign in every part of the em.
pire, instead of deliberating
upon the measures that ought
to be adopted for allaying
these ferments, and repelling
the attacks of invading foes
with vigour, their time is ta-
ken up in listening to the
most frivolous accusations from
all parts against the king, the
ministers, the generals of the
army, and a variety of other
individuals. Every man seems
te distrust his neighbour ; and
no sooner does he entertain a
prejudice against him, than he
runs to the bar of the national
afsembly, where he utters his
rage in the most vehement
terms he can conceive ; -and,
let the grounds of his com-
plaint be ever so frivolous, or
VOL. x,

the object he aims gt ever so
ridiculous, the most important
discufsions must give way to it.
He is heard with patience to
the end, and invited to the ho-
nour, as they call it, of the sit-
ting. Never in this world
was there exhibited such an
humiliating view of an afsem-
bly of men who afsume to
themselves both the legislative
and the judicial powers of a
great nation. Every true
friend of rational freedom must
deplore this extraordinary in-
fatuation, which threatens to
overturn all that has been there
done in the cause of liberty: .
for unlefs they fhall lay their
domestic animosities aside, and
cordially unite to repel the in-
vading foe, their efforts must
be feeble and unavailing; and,
fould the enemy obtain pow-
er, who can say that they will
not abuse it, in favour of that
cause which kings must natu-
rally deem peculiarly their
own? The only effort that |
the national afsembly has seri-
ously made to counteract the
operations of their enemies is,

+

x, Sistorical chroniele.. ;
that of endeavouring to induce| able terms of accommodation

their troops to desert, by hold-
ing out a premium to those who
fhail abandon the combined ar-
my. Thisthey do without hay-
ing provided effectual funds for
even paying their own troops,
or taking measures for esta-

blihing the permanency of

their own authority, on which
alone the permanency of the
pensions they proffer can de-
pend. They seem to forget

that their own private difsen-.
tions must tend, in the most.

unequivocal manner, to weak-
en the confidence that ought
to be reposed in them, and by
this means to counteract the
operation of this proclamation.

General Luckner, as well as
Fayette, leaving the army he
commanded, has appeared at
the bar of the national afsem-
‘bly. His secretary has also
appeared at the bar to deny the
truth of the accusations against
Fayette.

The combined army of Pruf-

sia and Austria, in the mean
while, is forming, and prepa-
ring vigorously for an attack ;
. while the French generals are
fortifying themselves as well
as they can on the frontiers.
A report prevails that Bri-
tain and Holland have made
offer of their mediation to
settle the difference between
the contending parties; but
the conduct of France with re-
spect to the king, affords no
room to hope that any reason-

,24th of July 1792.

‘sists, as usual, of complaints

will be there listened to, for
the present.

The king of Prufsia publith-
ed a concise exposition, as he
stiles it, though it is too pro-
lix for our bounds, of the rea-
sons which have determined
him to take up arms against
France, dated at Berlin the
It con-

against the French for infrac.
tion of treaties, and a desire to

preserve the balance of power’

in Europe, to free the king
from prison, and to destroy the
anarchy that unfortunately pre-
vails in that kingdom, &c.

This. was followed by a
DECLARATION by the duke of
Brunswick | Lunesurc,
manding the combined armies
of their majesties the empe-
ror and the king of Prufsia, to
the people of France, dated
Coblentz 25th July.

In this declaration he says, .

that, ‘ convinced that the so-
ber. part of the French nation
detest the excefses of a faction

which has enslaved them, and

that the majority of the inha-
bitants. wait with impatience
the moment when succours fhall
arrive, to declare themselves
openly against the odious en-
terprises of their opprefsors,
his majesty the emperor, and

his majesty the king of Prufsia,

earnestly invite them to return

without delay into the paths

com--"

.

historical chronicle.

xi

of reason and justice, of order|strict discipline, fromising to _

and peace.”

With that view he declares
that the allied courts disclaim
all idea of conquest for them-
selves; that they do not in-
tend to intermeddle in the
private government of France;
but only to set the king at li-

berty ; and put him into aj.

place of safety, where he may
‘summon a free convention of
his subjects to settle such a
form of government as they
fhall approve.
to protect the villages, and
the persons and property of
those who fhall submit to the
king ; but that those towns
or burghs which fhall oppose
them, fhall be treated ‘accor-

ding to the most rigorous rules |:

wf war. He. tells: the inha-
bitants of Paris, that, “‘ If the
least. violence be: offered,. the
least outrage done, to their
majesties, the king, the queen,
and the royal family ; if they
be not immediately placed. im
‘safety, and set at liberty, they
will inflict on those who fhall de-

serve it, the most examplary and

Sal

ever memorable avenging pu-
nifbments, by giving up the ctty
of Paris to military: execution,
and exposing it to:total déstruc-
tion” He concludes thus :
“In fire, I declare and pro-
mise in my own: individual
name, and in: my above quali-
ty, to cause to be observed e-
very where, by the troops un-

He promises:

treat with mildnefs and mo-

deration those well disposed

subjects who fhall submit

peaceably and quietly, and to

employ force against those on-

ly who fhall be guilty of resis-

tance or manifest: evil inten--
tions..

“T-therefore call upon, and’
expect all the inhabitants of

the kingdom, in. the most ear-

nest and forcible’ manner, not

to make any opposition to the.

troops under my command ; but

ratherto suffer them every where:
to enter the kingdom freely,.
and to afford them all the af.

sistance, and fhew them all the

benevolence which circumstan--
ces may require.”

Aug..2. The following de--

cree was pafsed by the nation-.
al afsembly, on the proposition.

of the extraordinary. commit:.
tee for the encouragement of:

persons-coming over from the.
enemy. ,

“« The National Afsembly,.
considering that whatever is.
connected with the succef of
the French arms.can admit of.
no delay, decrees. that there is:
urgence.

“Fhe: National! Atiemibsly:.
considering that. freemen alone:
have acountry } that: he who»
abandonsaland of: slavery to
take refuge in a land of liberty,
only avails ‘himself of a‘ lawful
right; and that, on the part
of aman deprived of his na.

der my command; good and! tural rights, no obligation can.

ol
‘exist towards the man who has
‘wrested them from him:

“* Considering that no means
ought to be neglected of termi-
nating a war which the French
nation has undertaken for the
sole purpose of defending her
constitution and her indepen-
dence, and that among those
means fhe ought, above all, to
prefer fuch as, by tending to
spare the effusion of human
blood, are therefore most ac-
cordant with her principles :

“* Considering, in fine, that
if the cause of liberty be the
cause of all men, and if it be
the duty and the best interest
of all men to devote them-
selves to its defence, the
French nation ought neverthe-

lefs, if it were only under the
title of an indemnification, to
give marks of her gratitude to
‘those warriors, who fhall come
to range themselves under her
colours, or quit those of her e-
nemies in order not to be forced
toturn their arms against a peo-
ple, all whose withes and whose
principles are directed to the u-
niversal peace and happinefs of
mankind.

“« Desirous, moreover, of ma-
king known to foreign nations
the principles of justice which
always direét its conduct, de-
crees, as follows :

1.‘ The non-commifsioned
officers and soldiers of the e-
nemy’s armies, who, zealous to
live in a land of liberty and
equality, fhall abandon the
colours of a power at war with

bistorical chroniele.\

France, and présent themselves
at any military post to any of
the constituied authorities, or

to a French citizen, fhall be |

greeted with friendfhip and
fraternity ; and to receive in the
first instance, as a sign of a-
doption, a cockade of the three
national colours.

2. “ The non-commifsioned
officers and soldiers, after de-
claring their wifh to embrace
the cause of liberty, fhall re-
ceive as an indemnification for
the sacrifice which they may
have made, a brevet fora pen-
sion of a 100 livres a year, du-
ring their residence in France,
to be paid in advance from
three months to three months,
by the receiver of the district
in which they fhall reside.
They {hall be admitted to take
the civic oath, and a copy of
the minute of their having ta-
ken this oath fhall be delivered.
to them.

3. ‘© They fhall receive z

gratification of 50 livres to be,

paid by order of the military
or civil officer, before whom
they fhall have made the de-
claration prescribed in article
second.

4. “ They fhall not be obli-
ged to enter into any military
engagement; but such of them
as chuse to do so, fhall be ad-
mitted into any of the French
corps in service without distinc-
tion. ;

5. “ Such of them as fhall
enter into these corps fhall re-
ceive the usual bounties over

historical chronicle.

Rut

sand above the gratification aad until the election of a new

pension.

6. “ A list of them fhall be

KING in a national convention.
M. Perion supported his

formed, and a general aggre-| petition, by exhibiting a view

gate of their pensions, which |

fhall continue to be divided
among the survivors of them in
the manner of a tontine, till
the pension of each amount to
500 livres a-year.

. “ The pension of a hun-
dred livres fhall be continued
to the widows of such of them
as fhall marry in France.

* * *# * * @

14. “ The National Afsem-
bly grants, as a security, the
produce of the estates of the
emigrants, the sale of which
has been decreed, and collate-
rally the revenues of the ftate
forthe payment of the annuities
above promised,”

Several other provisions of
lefs consequence are omitted.

Of all the violent steps that
have been adopted in France
since the commencement of

_the present disturbances, the
following seems to be .the
most extraordinary, and clear-
ly evinces what are the real
views of the faction.

DeposiTion oF THE KING.

The envoys of the common-
alty, of Paris, with M. Pert-
on demanded in the name of
the forty-eight sections, that

the xine fhould be excluded
from the throne, that the ma-
nagement of affairs during the
interregnum (hould be entrust-

ed to responsible ministers,

of the K1nc’s conduct since the
revolution. “‘ He has always,’’
said he, “¢ fhewn himself an e-
nemy to the people,—an ene-
my to the new laws,—and an
enemy to France.”

Evening sitting.

Mefs. Ricard and Lewinte
announced addrefses from A-
valon and Falaire, requesting:
that the king might be depo-
sed. Several members moved
that the addrefs, presented by
M.. Petion ir the morning
from the forty-eight -sections.
of Paris, fhould be printed.—
Ordered

The king sent to the af-
sembly dispatches which he
had received from bis. ambaf-
sadors to the elector of Co-
logne and the duke of Wir-
temberg. His majesty noti-
fied, that these two princes.
were prepating hostilities a-
gainst France, and that no
confidence was to be placed in
the promise of neutrality made
by the duke of Wirtemberg.

Mefs. ‘Thuriot and Grange-
neuve, exclaimed against the
treachery of the executive
power, who afsured the af-
sembly, that nothing was to
be apprehended from the
petty princes. of Germany,
Thursday next was fixed by
the afsembly for determining
the important question respec

oP
Be a

King.
Poland

; | Wistorical chrontele. ;
ting. the ‘deposition of the | and general Czapfki, who each

commanded a brigade in his ary

my ; he is of opinion that, had:

The brave and unfortunate | those two officers done their
Poles are still suffered to fight duty, the advantage over the
their own battles, without the ; Rufsians would have been full

afsistance of any foreign state. | greater.

|
Since our last several fkirnii- | quence to be tried by a court

fhes have taken place of No | martial,

great consequence. The Poles
have been in general obliged |
to yield to superior numbers,
and old disciplined troops.
Being obliged to act éntirely
on the defensive,—as is usual
im such cases, the party who
attacks has carried their point
to a certain degree ; but not
an inch is gained without :a
well disputed contest. The
progrefs of the Rufsians is thus
extremely slow. In the mean
while the Polifh army is aug-
menting daily, and the most
cordial unanimity seems to
prevail among all orders of the
state.

Private subscriptions: are o-
pened in London, and many
other parts of Britain, for the
relief of the Poles; and. seve-
tal considerable sums: are said
to be already raised by that
means. But we hear of no
public national interference in
their favour.

' Warfaw June 3oth. Since
the action of the 17th, at Zas-
law, the Rufsians have made no
further progrefs in Volhynia.
From what we can learn, it
seems the commander in chief
is displeased‘ with the conduct
of prince Michael Lubomirfki

This: action ‘at
at enng is the first occasion on
which the king has. made use

of the new order which his: ©

majesty has created for milita-
ry merit. This

consist of three clafles:. the

first for general and staff off--

cers, who will wear a gold
crofs ‘suspended

second’ for subalterns, - who
will wear a gold medal with a

red ribband through their but--
ton hole ; the third for officers:

of an inferior rank, and sol-

diers, will be a silver medal:

with: the ‘same decorations.

The king has sent seventeen:
crofses and’a hundred medals to :
his nephew prince Joseph Po- -
niatoufki, to distribute among

those who deserve them.

From the motions of the:
Rufsians: Warsaw appears to bé-

the place to which their chief
attention is directed ; his ma-

jesty, therefore, in consequence.

of the danger which threatens

his capital, instead of joining, .
as was his attention, the ar--

my of the prince his nephew
in Volhynia; is now anxious
only for the safety of that in
Lithuania. He has in -con=
sequence ordered his baggage

They are in conse--

order will:

round their:
necks, by a red ribband ;. the:

to the Ukraine, to be sent
‘pack, and has given orders for
a camp to be formed beyond
the Vistula near Warsaw, to
‘cover that city, and to be ready
in case of necefsity, to re-en-
force the armies of generals
Zabiello Judycki. The camp,
it is suposed will consist ofabout
40,000 men. The regimentof
Lithuanian horse guards, and
-some other corps, cavalry and
Anfantry, arrived at the spot
pitched on, yesterday. _
Eact Indies.

By the arrival of the Nor-
sthumberland from Madras, has
been received a full confirma-
‘tion of the treaty with Tippoo
Saib; and though that prince
has fhowed some inclination to
procrastinate, yet it is not
doubted but the steadinefs of
lord Cornwallis, will ultimate-
ly compel him to fulfil the sti-
pulated conditions :

. The definitive treaty was
signed on the 19th of March,
and the first payment, v7%. one
-crore and sixty-five lacks of ru-
pees has been already made by
him. Part of that money itis
said has been given to our troops.

Tippoo’s sons, one ten and
the other eight years of age, are
very accomplithed princes.

The present state of things
in India will appear by the
following extract of a letter to
the Editor, dated Fort St Geo,
27th March 1792, which con’
tains the most distinct account

historical chronicle,
Sart of which was on’its way |of Tippoo’s donznions that has

x¥

ever yet appeared in print.

_** Our army ‘s still at Seringapatam 5
there has been considerable delay in
ascertaining the value of the money
that has teen paid. At last it has
been agreed to take it at its current
value. ‘I'he ascercaining the value of
the countries to be ceded, has also
been the cause of much discufsion, as
it is supposed Tippoo has falsified the
accounts of the revenue; all which
might easily have been prevented by
naming the countries to be ceded.. The
settling of this last point may detain
our army some time at Seringapatam,
where the barrennefs of the surround-
ing country, the scarcity of forage for
the cattle, the sickneis that is gaining
ground in the army, projuced no doubc
oy the filth of so numerous an host en-
camped so long on the same ground,
causes every delay-to be of serious mo-
ment.

“Tt is not yet certainly known what
countries we fhall keep; butitis sup-
posed all his pofsefsions on this side,
below the Gatits or mountains, viz.
Baramaal, Coifmbatore, Dindigul, &c.
countries, and Ofsore as a garrison in
ihe Mysore country 3 the Malabar
coast to be guaranteed to the different
rajahs, by which we fhall get all the
trade of that coast, which will be of
more value to the company for the
European and China market, than
most of their other pofsefsions. The
Mahrattas to have Sannote and Dar-
war; the Nizam, Canoul, Adoni and
Cudapah,

«« The Mysore country would never’
have defrayed the expence in our hands
of the establifhment that must have
been kept there; it is by no means
capable of the same cultivation that
the Carnatic is; the country, zs far as
I have seen, and I believe the whole
of it, is undulated or gently wayed-in
a wonderfully regular manner; and it
is only in the hollows where the rain
water can be retained by banks, that
rice can be cultivated, which is the
great crop, and, where it can be got,
the only food of the natives; the cule

Vi

brstorical chronicle. —

ture of thesma’ grains is more preca-/ly’s redoabt, which was desperately
rious, and they are lefs nourithing ;| defended, los: their way, by which they
for being on the high grounds, they! were unable to co-operate with lord |
©an only be watered trom the heavehs, ; Cornwallis, which they would have
whereas the whole of the Carnatic,{done had they pufhéd through the

(by the regular slope from the Gauts
to the sea, which is supposed by Dr
Anderson to be ten feet in every mile,)
may be cultivated by only rais ng suf-
ficient banks to the eastward, to re-
tain the rain that falls in the monsoon,
which is so considerable, that in the
* course of six weeks, by accurate mea-
surement, it was found near fifty in-
ches had fallen at Madras ; more after-
wards fell, but the quantity Ido not
know; our last monsoon however was
uncommonly severe, more so than had
been known for many years.

*¢ The elevationof the Mysore coun-
try above the sea must be very great.
The pafses on the Malabar coast have
been ascended by the Bombay army
with much difficulty; and on this coast
on ascending the Padnadurgum pafs one
hundred miles from the sea, in an hour’s
walk, } got into a country fifteen de-
grees cooler than the Carnatic.

“« Tippoo, by all that appears, has
been the friend of the poor; the rich
he always took the liberty of plunder-
ing, and he had introduced many v2-
Juable and extensive manufactures in
the pettah ortown of Bangalore. Before
our army came there, it is said 10,600
weaving families were maintained; and
we found long streets, with .almost
every house filled with cotton; but
the Mysore country can never main-
tain a great power, though an excel-
Jent one to defend, being every where
protected by almost impregnable forts.
Biddanore is the country with Coim-
batore, that made Hyder so pewerful ;
and as Tippoo is allowed to keep Bid-
danore, he is still very respectable.

«¢ Our joy at the peace was very much
damped by.an unlucky circumstance
that happened to general Meadows,
whose zeal and personal bravery, being
always foremost in every danger, had
endeared him to the whole army. He
had appeared unhappy ever since the at-
tack of the lines, when the right wing

enemy’s camp to the river, before they
turned to the left, by which it is sup -
posed we fhould have entered Seringa-
patam along with Tippoo, at least we
must have taken every thing he was
pofsefsed of out of the fort.

*¢ On the 26th ult, when the two hos-
tages were delivered,and every thingwas
settled, he went to his tent, and was with
difficulty prevented from doing a rafh
deed, thatall the army, and almost eye-
ry person inIndia would have long de-
plored. It seems he imagined that the
army conceived this mistake on the
6th, was done on purpose to prevent’
the complete victory that lord Corn-
wallis would otherwise have gained;
and that, he could not convince them
to the contrary but by this rah act.
I am very happy, however, to tell you,
that he has recovered, ahd is now out
of danger, and easy in mind, being
convinced that the army have always
given him the greatest credit for his
chearful and zealous co-operation with
lord Cornwallis on all occasions. You
will observe that in these circumstan-
ces there is a peculiar delicacy in lord
Cornwallis’s public thanks tothe army,
in which he mentions Meadows in the
most handsome terms. ;

** We are now all enjoying the hap-
pinefs that peace gives, and it took
place most opportunely for the collec-
lection of the crops; for in our north=
ern circars there is a most dreadful fa-
mine raging; one half, nay three
fourths of the inhabitants destroyed,
the country every where being cover-
ed with human bones. The failure
of the crops in some measure in Ben-
gal, which oblige the government to.
lay an embargo on the exportation of
grain, has made the devastation 80 great 5
and if the Carnatic had been reduced to
similar distrefs, which might have hap- .
pened at this time by the invasion of a
few horse preventing the collection of
the crop, we fhould have been butlittle

which he commanded, after taking Lal- benefitted by our conquests."

Yours, &c.

-been.

ee

—————

SHORT CHRONICLE

OF EVENTS.

1 [ee eee ee '

August 29. 1792.

Foreren.

Poland.
Tue ‘struggle in Poland is now
over. Justice has been obli-
ged to give way to force. The
‘Rufsian troops, supported by
continual reinforcements, bore

every thing before them, so.

that necefsity constrained the
king and the nobles of that
unfortunate kingdom to sub-
mit to the laws the emprefs
has thought proper to impose
upon them. ‘The particulars
have not yet reached us; but
it is probable that her eager-
nefs to join the confederacy
against France, may induce
the emprefs to be more mo-
derate in respect to Poland,
than fhe otherwise would have
Should the confede-
rated armies prove succefsful
in France, it is not at all im-
pofsible but they,. at a future
period, may differ among them-
selves as to the final settle-
ment of the constitution of Po-
land,

The Warsaw gazette of the
25th July informs us, that the

combination of three powerful

VOLe X.

neighbouring states, while the
Poles were left without the
aid of a single ally, reduced
them to the mortifying necef-
sity of agreeing to an accom-
modation with Rufsia, to pre-
vent a partition of their terri-
tories among their unfeeling,
and, we may say, treacherous
neighbours.

The king, finding not only
that his ally the king ef Pruf-
sia had deserted him, but that
he had joined the emprefs in
het ambitious and tyrannical
views, called a meeting of the
deputies of the different pro-
vinces upon the 23d of July,
to deliberate on the best mea-
sures to be pursued for the
welfare of the country. Of two
evils they were obliged to
choose the least 5 either to have
their country entirely destroy-
ed by the immense armies
which were overrunning it, and
perhaps to have their existence
as a state annihilated, or to a-
gree to the haughty terms im-
posed upon them by their too
powerful neighbours.

The king was obliged to an-
e
+

Xvill
mul, not only the constitution |
of 3d May 1791, and agree to”
the re-establifhment of that |

Aistorveal chronicle.

The following are additiofial
circumstances'—the emprels of

which existed before the revo- | Rufsia, desirous, as the preten-

lution, but even to order the
army under prince Poniatows-
ki to be delivered up to the
Rufsian general Brinicki. ‘This
was to take place according to
the agreement on the 29th Ju-
ly.

- Many people, however, have
dibertes from the general re-
solution. Malachowzki, Po-
tocke, Sapiheat, Soltik, &c. re-
fused to sign the reconferation.
Upwards of 4000 nobles, and
several others, afsembled, call-
ing out, “ The constitution with-
out the king !”? They sought af-
ter Malachowzki, prince Sapi-
heat, Potocke, and Soltik, and
carried them round in public.

In the grand dukedom of
Lithuania in particular, a spi-
rit of resistance still seems to
manifest. itself. What a dis-
grace to the policy of Europe,
that not one state could be
found friendly to a cause so
honourable to humanity !—It
is not many months since Eu-
tope was on the eve ofa gene-
ral war for a barren territory
between the Bog and the Dnei-
ster, to preserve the da/ance of
power; and now.a whole king-
dom has been allowed to fall a
victim to the ambition of Rufsia,
without a single suspicion be-
ing thrown out by any one
power that the same 4a/ance

would be thereby endangered!

,

ded, of stopping the farther ef-

fusion of blood, sentvesders to
her generals to propose an ar-
mistice, which was accepted.

She afterwards wrote a letter
with her own hand, to the king
of Poland, in which the point-
ed out the folly of his attempt-
ing to defend the new consti-
tution by the force of arms,
as fhe was resolved to double
and even triple her army, if
necefsary, in order to overturn
it. She at the same time in-
formed him, that the courts of
Berlin and Vienna, fully agreed .
in sentiments with her ; and that
farther obstinacy on his part
would induce these powers to
unite their forces against him.

This letter made such an im-
prefsion on the mind of Stanis-
laus, that he immediately re-
solved to signa renunciation
of the new constitution ;, and
this intention he communica-
ted to the diet of Warsaw,
which will even be difsolved
to give place to that of Tan-
gowitz.

It is, however, stated with
much confidence, and we be-
lieve on good authority, that
the new constitution will not
be entirely annulled, but un-
dergo considerable alterations.
One article is, “‘ That the suc-
cefsion to the throne of Poland
{hall be settled on prince Con-

historical chronicle,

‘stantine Paulowitz, second son

xI®.
ing similarly circumstanced:

oi the grand duke of Rufsia,! The constitution establithed by

and his heirs male.
This sudden change in the

‘the last national afsembly, and
sworn to by every individual

political hemisphere, has been!of the nation afew months ago

communicated by exprefs to
every court in Europe. The
king, it is said, deeply affected
in being thus disappointed of
carrying his beneficent views
into execution, has resolved to
retire from the supreme ma-
nagement of affairs, and even
from the capital, where in fu-
ture he can experience nothing
but mortification. With re-
gard to the elector of Saxony
this event proves that he acted
like a wise and prudent prince,
in not rathly accepting the
‘crown which was offered him.

Prince Constantine Paulo-
witz, who has been named to
the Polith succefsion, was born
‘on the 8th of May 1779; and
his appointment will, no doubt,
‘at any rate prevent the dread
of a partition. The emprefs
after settling this affair, it is
mot impofsible, may think of
extending her territories more
‘southward, and even her good
friends and allies, Austria and
Profsia, by their wavering ac-
‘tions, may one day be engaged
‘in a war of her kindling.

France.
Critical as the situation of
France has béen for many

months past, it is, at the pre-
sent moment, still more critical
than ever: nor is'there an in-
stance in the annals of past his-
tory of a great nation ever be-

entirely set aside; the king
superseded, and in prison, and’
under order for trial: all
the judges of the land dis-
placed, and a new set of
judges elected by the people to
take cognizance of the crimes
alleged to have been commit-
ted by many hundreds of citi-
zens recently cast into prison 5
three great armies on the fron-
tiers already entered, or ready
to enter the dominions of
France ; the generals who
command the armies that are
to oppose them, superseded by
the party at present in power,
and ordered into confinement
for trial; one half of these
armies declared for the former
constitution, and the other
half for the present order of
things. Such, in a few words,
is the present situation, of af-
fairs -in France. That order
may soon come out of con-
fusion, and that peace may fol-
low, with a settled form of go-
vernment, that fhall be calcu-
lated to protect the lives and
property, and secure the liber-
ties of the people, ought to be
the with of every goud man !

Our limits prevent us from
giving a detailed account of
these transactions; but the fol-
lowing particulars will mark
the nature of them with sufi:
cient distinctnefs.

xx

Sistorical chronkie,

- Thursday Aug. 9. Midnight, | themselves, a general council of

the alarm bell sounded in every
quarter ; the general was beat,
and the citizens hurried to
arms.

- Soon after, the Afsembly
were informed that M. Petion,
who had gone to the palace for
the purpose of preserving tran-
quillity, was detained there as
an hostage for the Kune’s
safety.

The Afsembly ordered M.
Petion to appear at the bar—
he soon appeared, and reported
the different measures which
he had adopted for the public

~safety. He was applauded,
and desired to return to his
duty.

Friday morning, Aug. ro.
As day-light approached, the
minister of justice entered the’
hall,, imploring for the king
that protection from the Af.

sembly, which, from the out-

rageous conduct of the mob af-
sembled in the Thuilleries, he
had but little reason to expect
from the affections of the
people.

While they were deliberat-
ing upon the most proper mea-
sures to be adopted in this aw-
ful and alarming crisis, some
municipal officeis announced,
that a new provisionary admini-
‘+ stration had been formed at the
Commons Hall; that the peo-
ple, alsembled in their diffe-
rent sections, had named com-
/milsioners, who, in virtue of
their powers, had dencminated

the community; and that the
municipality had been suspend-
ed during the continuance of
this temporary authority ; Mefs,
Perion, Manvet, and Danton,
being the only members allow-
ed to remain in the exercise of
their functions. They added,
that M. Petion was surround-
ed by a numerous body of the
people, who had conducted
him to his house, in order to
protect his person and proper-
ty ; and that the provisionary
admunistratioa had placed M.
SanTERRE at the head of pub-
lic force, forbidding him to obey
the staff-officers, or any other
authority but theirs.

The afsembly resumed the
discufsion of the main question ;
but were again interrupted by
the news of atrocities commit-
ting in different quarters of the
city.

About nine o’clock in the

,morning, almost every person
who could procure arms, hur-
ried towards the Thuilleries,
calling for the dethronement:
of the king—adding, that he
was a traitor, and had forfeited
the confidence of the nation.

The king, alarmed at the fu-
rious dispositions manifested by
the people, left the Thuilleries 5
and, attended by the Swils re-
giment of guards, proceeded to
the National Afsembly, accom-
panied by the queen, his sister,
and the royal children. He
first placed himself by :the side

‘historical chronicle. 4

of the president, and afterwards
retired to the bar with his fa-
mily ; but as, according to the
terms of the constitution, the
afsembly could not perform the
functions of a deliberative body
while he was present, he was
desired to remove into one of
the boxes set apart for the use
of the editors of newspapers.

The afsembly then sent ten
commifsioners to endeavour to
appease the people.

In the mean time, detach-
ments from the national guard,
citizens armed with pikes, and
a number of the Marseillese
and Federates, ranged them-
selves in the Place de Carouzel,
and proceeded to attack the
palace, which was guarded by
a body of Swils.

The Swifs having been in-
sulted, and hard prefsed upon
by those who came against
them, were at last obliged to
fire in their own defence, and,

vat first, the mob were. put to,

flight; but, being reinforced
‘by the Marseillese and Fede-
rates from Brest, as well as by
a great number of Parisians,
they rallied again, and com-
menced a heavy fire against
their opponents.

The gates being at last vo-
Juntarily opened by the Swifs,
or violently forced by the mob,
an obstinate combat ensued ;

the Swifs defending themselves:

with signal bravery, and the
populace continuing the attack
with the most sanguinary fury.

xur

|At last, horrid to relate! the

Swifg were obliged to yield to
superior force ; and, almost to
aman, were inhumanly butcher-
ed! They, however, sold their
lives dear, and did not yield
till they had killed several hun
dreds of their opponents.

Among the victims. sacri-
ficed on this occasion, to po-
pular frenzy, besides the Swifs
guards, and their colonel M,
d’Affry, were the abbé Bouil-
lon, Mefsieurs Carle, Mandat,
and many others.

After the mob. had got pof
sefsion of the palace, an im-
mense crowd burst into the dif-
ferent apartments; some of
whom carried to the Afsembly
the queen’s jewels, valuable ef-
fects, money, and important
papers . The ‘furniture was
taken to the sections, after an
inventory of it had been made,
and the papers were sent to the
committee of safety.

The statues of Louis xv.
and xy. were destroyed.

During this tumult, while
the noise of cannon was heard
in the afsembly, and several
{hots even entered the windows,
the members still continued
their deliberations, the Jacobin
party exclaiming, Liberty! E-
quality ! and all raising their,
hands towards heaven, swear-"
ing they would die to save their
country.

Tt was observed, that many
members, either through fear,
or from some other motive,

Ri
were absent: It was, there-
fore, considered as of impor-
tance to make acall of the
thouse to determine who were
present: this being decreed,
each member took the follow-
ing oath :

“ T swear, in the name of
the nation, to maintain
liberty and equality, or to

die at my post!

Ss
—_—

Domestic.

Lord Cornwallis has signifi-
ed his intention of returning
to Europe in January next,—
his lordfhip will be accompa-
nied home by general Mea-
dows.

General Meadows at his re-

historical chronicles

turn, is to be invested with
one of the vacant knighthoods
of the bath.

Lord Macartney succeeds
earl Cornwallis as governot
general in India,—his lord-
fhip will, after concluding his
embafsy to China, embark from
thence to Madras.

The mayor of Leeds has if-
sued orders to the manufactu-
rers adjoining, to send patterns
of their commodities to lord
Macartney, to be fhown by
his lordfhip in china. Halix
fax, Huddersfield, Wakefield,
Bradford, and almost every
manufacturing town in the
kingdom, are adopting the
same measure.

Wohiteball Aug. 21.

The definitive treaty with Tippoo Sultan, was received at

the India house overland yesterday from Bombay.
« ABSTRACT OF THE ARTICLES IN THE TREATY.

1. The treaties of 1770, with Hyder Ally Khan, and of 1784,
with Tippoo Sultan are confirmed.

mu. The fourth article of the preliminary treaty, by which
Tippoo’agrees to yield half the country, and pay certain sums
of money therein stipulated, and deliver two of his sons as. hos-
tages, for the performance of these stipulations is ratified

ur. The general abstract of the countries ceded by Tippoo,
are hereunto subjoined, and the detail of them is inserted in
a separate schedule, bearing the seal and signature of Tippoo

Sultan.

Districts ceded to the bononrable Englifo Company.

Calicut 63 talosks
Palgaurcherry
Dind gal asd Pulnaveerpachry 2 talooks
Salem =
Kooth
Namkool
Sunkagherry

Carried forward,

848765
$8c090

©o00000N

1114765

historical chronicle. Xxili

Bar2b Mobul, 9 talaoks, viz. Brought fo:ward, 1114765 5 4
Bars oul — _ 64000 0 9
Coves:cultun — — 10.00 0 Oo
Verb Ss 7 i _ =— 8.00 © Oo
Paycottah’ —_ _ — 80co 0 Oo
ak * nondie —_ — tcoo 0 oO
ranpoury — _ 8.00. 0 oO
Pennagur _ Is0c0os 0 O
Tengry cottah — _— 1z.ca_ 0 Oo
Cover} poor — ccuo 0 O
; 134c00 0 @
Ahtoor Arruntgurry —_ _ _ 18,00 0 Oo
Permuctteec —_— — 14000 © Oo
Shadmungul _ _ 2z0coo 9 O
Vamloor —_ — 16000 0 Oo}
Districts ceded to the Nawvaub Afsiph Fab Bebauder. 1316705 5.4
Jalook Herpai:, 61 calooks — —_ 353649) <3 3
The Doab 15 talooks.§ — 1648099 0 O
Deduct 4s iollows. ?
In the Peihwa’s fhare, 1306666 6 10
Remains with Tippoo
Sultan. Anagooudy 61101 0 oO
——————__ 1366767 6 10
Remains to the Nawaxb Afsoph Jah 231331 6 3
Bangupilly and Cainchumulla, 2 talooks — 41804 9g 8
Singputtun and Chilwara _ — 20000 0 O
Qak = _ 20000 0 ©
Hanwantgooud — ‘ — 15000 9 oO
Winipilly vemla — ‘ _ 12565 oc o
Moaka _ _ — 12162 6 14
In Gosty 4 talooks, viz.
Tarpatry, _ 19055 90 4
Tamurry _ _ 13072 8 0
Velanoor _ 3800 © Oo
Singunmully as — 10855 0 oO
——————_ 51782 8 4
Biswapoor oo — 5000 9 0
Buthary, Wsdidinos, &c. 2 talooks a 35000 9 0
Deduct
Remains with Tippoo, 2 talooks, Koorkoor
and Dummoor _— —_ 12000 © © 23000 0 ©
In Koorkoor = — _ 370 2 §
- Districts ceded to Row Pundit Purdbaun ; 1316666 6 4x
Bebauder,
The Doub, 15 -alooks _ 1648099 3 2
Deruct remains with Tippoo Sultan,
Anagooudy, 1 talook 60101 0 0
In che fhare of the Nawaub
_ Afgoph Jah.

Kopui, 8talooks 106137 3 9
Kaneckgu-ry do. 79100 0 oO
os cea dal 96094 2 55 281331 6 8

341432 6 8&8

, Carried forward, 1989531 9 10

XEIV Sistorical chronicle.

Remains to Row Pundit Puradaun, viz. Brought forward; 3989531 9 12

Dawar 8 talooks, 138536 8 57

Hawanvor, 2 do. 30604 2 5 ;

Dummoor ~ _ 15394 6 6

Bankapoor, 16 do. — 2504266 7

Sirkully 4 do. _ 64843 7 10

Keloor 11 do. — Sa4s3077 4) 3

Godduck 4 do. _— 45297 I 9

qpackals 5 do. — _ 73135 0 14 :
ummul 4 do. eS 49090 § I2 |

Shanore 26 de. — — 340946 7 13

Lamgurry Soudunhy 148953 3 @

In Gujenderghur
8 talooks 101977 9 6

Deduct in thare of -
Nawaub Afsoph JZ
Jah 96094 2 § pe age
: ————_ 5883 6 7 Pees
oa ee _—_—- —— 1306666 6 te
‘rom Gooty.
Sundoer, _— . — —_ 10000 0 @
1316666 6 o

Districts ceded to the honourable Englifh Co. brought down, 1316765 5 4
Districts ceded to the Nawaub Afsoph Jah Behauder, ditto 1316660 6 1x
Districts ceded to Row Pundit Purdhaun Behauder, ditto 1316666 6 o

Grand Total in pagodas, i — 3950098 8 g

tv. Provides that exchanges fhall be mutually made of such
parts of the above teded districts, as fhall be inconveniently si-
tuated for either party, for others of equal value in a more con-
venient situation.

v. Provides for the easy delivery of forts; and avoiding dis-
putes about outstanding balances respecting them, the delivery of
ptisoners, and the removal of the allied armies.

‘vi. Whatever guns and fhot -fhall be left by Tippoo Sultan
in the forts which the said Tippoo Sultan has agreed to cede to
the allied powers, an equal number of guns and {hot fhall be left
in the forts which the allied powers have agreed to restore to
Tippoo Sultan. ;

vit..Zemindars and Aumildars in balance to either party, thall

ot be fheltered by the other; and provides for the adjustment.
of disputes that fhall arise.

vit. The Polygars and Zemindars of this country who in
the course of the present war have attached themselves and
been serviceable to the allies, fhall not on that account, in any
fhape, or manner, be injured or molested by Tippoo Sultan.

4. Signed and sealed in camp near Seringapatam, this 18th day of March, 1791. |
CorRNWALLIS«

_ Architecture, taste in,

Pere im

———————

‘3 INDEX.

—

~

A.

Account of the armadillo,
vith a cut, 153—of the socie-
a Arcadia at Rome, 193—
of the agamée, a singular bird, 249
Adrian Broor, anecdotes of, 251
“Africar tale, 182-219
— fharks, petition of, 34.
Agamée, a singular bird, account of,2.49
Albanicus on the life of John earl
‘of Buchan, 1-41—0n Siuart’s e-
lements,

140

"an Allegory on wisdom and wealth, 323

Alonzo, on the temple of Hymen, 257

Alphonzo, king of Arragon, anec-
dotes of,

Amicus on leases,

Anderson, James, on the improve-
mient of fheep and wool,

Anecdotes, 223—of la Fontaine,

' 27—Oof a new made justice, 112
—of William 111, 134—0f a
sailor, 135—of. James 1, 174
_—of Adrian Broor, 251—of
Alphonzo, king of Arragon, 263

An old book worm on the agamée, 249

Aniiquities in Scotland, 205-274

Arcadia, society of, in Rome, ac-
count of,

263

122

9-47

192
234-265
Armadillo, account of the, with a

cut, 153
Astronomicus on the milky way, 61

Biographical remarks on distingui-

Butt, Dy, his account of an earth-
quake,

Butts, William, on poors rates, 17

Case of nouns, explanation of the, 274

Characteristical anecdotes of la
Fontaine, 27

Chemicus on Rupert’s glafs drops, 130

Climate, influence of, on qualities

of wool, Ii
Closenefs of pile and finenefs in

wool, connection between, 47
Cockburn. of Ormiston, notices

of, 298 2d;
on Colds and coughs, 1T3
Commotions in Rofsfhire, thoughts

on, 297

Constitution, thoughts onthe, 155-2257
Consumptions, an efsay on, 113
Correspondents, acknowledgements
to, 40--112--152—192—224—264
304.2d:-336

‘on Cotcon manufactures, 164.
Cotton manufactures, on. the pro-
grefs of, 331
Coxe’s travels, extracts from, 36-77
Cure for the gout, T1o
‘Definitives, explan.tion of, 315

Delicacy of sentiment, an efsay on. zor
Description of a view on the water

of Leith, with a plate, . 136:
Dictionary, a specimen of, 146-177
Disquisitions 01 grammar,239-274-311

‘Don, a Merino ram, account of, 307
fhed characters in Scotland, 297 2d.},Drinking, history of effects of, re-
Biographicus, interesting hints view of, 7
by, 297 2d }'Drummond, Geo. notices of, 299 2d..
Bleaching of flax, *335| Dun-o-deer, account of, 206-274
Book worm on the agimée, 249), —ground plan of 275—view of
Broor, Adrian, anecdotes of, 25x| from the north, and ditto from
Bruce, Sir W. of Kinrofs, notices the west, 276
of, 298 2d. E.
Buchan, Jo. earl of, life of, with Effects of hard drinking, history
a portrait, I-41! of, review of, qt
VOL. X- d. t

.
XXVI index.
Electric symptoms accompanying : i. ‘
an earthquake, _ 68) La Fontaine, anecdotes of, 27
on the Episiles of Ovid, 215 | Laws of the Arcadians of Rome, 197 |
Efsay on coughs and colds, 113— ~ Leases, an efsay on, . 122:
on leases, 122 | Lettsom, Dr J. C. review of his

Efsay on delicacy of sentiment,
Exercise, effeets of on qualities of
wool 16
Exercises inpractical grammar, 146-177
Extracts from Coxe’s travels, . 36-77

J P
Finhaven, hill of, vitrified fortifi-
cations oa, 273
¥Fon-aine, anzcdotes of, 27
Food, effects of on qualities of wool, 15
Friend to liberty on Coxe’s travels,

36-77

2o1

G.
Gender of nouns, explanation of, 244.
Genitive case in Englith, critical
difsertation on, 274-331

Glafs drops, an efsay on, 130
Clafs manufacture, progrefs of, 333
lean'ng; of literature, 68-107
Gypsum, exp:riments on, 30024. |
Grammar, exerc'ses in, 146-177)

Grammatical d’squisitions,2 359-274-311
Great manis, account of, 8r
Grecian architecture, account of

the origin of, 268.
Gout, Turkish cure for, 110
‘H,

Hairbrain, Timothy, lucubrations
of, 23
Hard drinking, Lettsom on, 71

Hardinefs of fheep, and finenefs of
wool, connection between,

Hints on the prosperity of states,
325—respecting the prozrefs of
manufactures, 333—to corres-
pon ‘ents of the Bee, 297 2d.

Hymen, the temple of, 257

Meat
Improvement of fheep and wool

47

cn the, 0-47
Jntelligence from New South
Wales, 190
Intelligence in literature, 262
Jron manufactures, on the progrefs
of, 334
talian literature, 193
Juliana of wisdom ani wealth, 323

history of effects-of hard drink-
ing, 7X
Life of John, earl of Bichan, with
a portrait,
Linen yarn spum by machinery,
Literary intelligence,
Lucubrations of Timothy Hair-
brain, 83
Manufactures of cotton, concerning, 164
— on the progrefs of, 330
Mathemat’'s, efsay on, 17k
Memorandums, reading, 63-102-136>
285,
Meschezabeel, on delieaey of sen-
time nt,
Milky way, conjectures on the,
Misobronies on Thunderprcof’s
efsays, 96
Museum, accountof Weir’s,262-304 2d.
N

20%,
61

New South Wales, intelligence
from,

Nouns in the Englifh language,
241—on number, 243—
gender, 244—case, 274

Number, of nouns, explanation of, 243,

O. ;

Observations. on poor rates, 17-—
cnleases, 122—on the consti-
tution, 1§5-225—-—on cotton

190

manufactures, 164
on Overstretching taxation, 57-3189
Ovid's epistles, an efsay on, 215

Pp

Pangolin, account of the, witha
cut,
Papyrius Precursor, oa gleanings

8x

of literature, 107
Pea-aniry, emancipation of, in Po-

Yand, 38—in Rofsia, © 77
Petition of the fharks of Africa, 34

Philosophy of grammar, 239-274-311

Philotuesis on Ovid’s epistles, 215

Physicuphilologus on mathematics,174&

Polifh peasantry, on the emanci-
pation of,

38
Puors rates, thoughts on,

a

0
~ et :
. a

index.

Practical grammar,exercisesin, 146-177
Prosperity of states, hints on, 325
Pulmonicus on coughs and colds; 113
Reading memorandums, 63-102-136-
128
; Reinarks on Thunderproof’s ef-
S$1YS,
Revenue laws, hints on, by. Tra-
der Political, , 57-319
Review of Lettsom on hard: drink-
“ings
Robinson, A. on poors rates,
Roman private dwellings, descrip-

tion of, 272
Rofsthire, commotions in, thoughts
on, : 297

Rupert’s glafs drops, efsay: on,
Rufsia, state of,

Ss.

.

XXVil
limoleon, to the Editor of the

ee, 303 2d.

on Thunderproof’s efsays, 96
Timothy Hairbrain, lucubrations

of, 8z

on Timothy Thunderproof’s efsays, 96
Tourner Abbé, his account of the

suciety of Arcadiain Rome, 193
Frader Political, on taxation, 57-319
Turkifh cure for the gout, 110
on Vitrified fortifications, 205-275

—view of, 21%:
on Voltaire, 212

Ww.
Weaving: by machinery, 333
Weir’s museum, accountof,262-304 2d.
Wisdom and wealth, an allegory, 3az
~Vooll carded and spun by machi-

nery,. 331
Scaly lizard, acoun: of, $1} Wool and fheep, on the improve-
Scottith antiquities, 205-274! ment of, 9-47
Selico, a tale, 132-219 ¥;
Sentiment, on delicacy of, 201|-Young, Arthur, on poors-rates 9
Sharks of Africa, petition of, 34
Sheep, Spanifh, compared with Si ESAT OT eae
others, 308 POETRY.
Sheep and wool, on the impreve- A,
ment of, -47.| Academicus, disappointment by, 329
en the Shortnefs or length of staple Amicus, imitation of Martial by, 176
of wool, 48 B

Size of fheep, and finenefs of wool,
connection between,

Sketch of the life of, John earl of
Buchan, with a pov«rait,

Society, of Arcadia in Rome, ac-
count of, 193

Spanith theep, account of, with a
cut :

State of New South Wales,

Sates, bints on the prosperity of, 325

Sct Bernard’s weil, description of,
with a view,

1-41

305,

136

trange, Sir Robert, notices-of, 299 2d. |.

en Stuart’s elements, of the philo-
sophy of the human mind, » 140
: T.

Tale, Se ico,

en Taste-imarchitecture, 234-265

on Taxation, 57-314

the Temple of Hymen, 257

Timo}eon’s second lerter to the
people of Great Britain, 155—
his third letter,

182 21

225

Bombardinion, imitation of Mar-
tial’s epigrams,. 65-258

Buchanan translation from, 176

Bu ler, T. H.to the memory of

Mrs.Sher:dan,

»rom Dr, on patience, 246

« Character of the times, 104

¥g¢ PU.ana, translation from Buchanan,

by, 376
D.
2 Dirge to the memory of Mrs She-
- oan, 66
‘be Disappointment, 329
Elvina, verses by, 247
Emilius, imitation of Martiakby, 330
Enigrams, ++, nt 218-330
rEnistie toa friend oa the New
Year, 105
Episti: of Ovid to his wife from
Pontus, Fa 216
a Fable,

139

f -

;™ *,

Bort, Pes

XXViil py ouee
to Fancy, an ode, 3
on Flattery by Tumbledown,
to Hope,
Hymen, the temple of,

I

Imitation of Martial, 65-175-176-288
b.

Ladies, a tale for,
the Lafs of Martindale,

7éé Lottery.a tale for the ladies,

\ M.
Martial, imitated,

65-175-176-288-330

Martindale, lafs of,

Modern refinement,

Morning walk, extracts from,
Ode to fancy,

O° Dieu qu’on mecconnoit,

Oyid’s epistle to his wife from

Pontus,
Le
on Patience,
Peacock and dove a fable
a

Rondo, to the memory of Mrs

Sheridan, -

END oF VoLUME TENTH.

than gay SF FEN we Mh

Es eli

alanis

“297

endex.

286

175| to Salton,
Sonnet,
on the Spring,
Square Toes,

by, «

Tale for the ladies,
the Temple of Hymen, > =

260 imitation of Marta KS

25|The lafs of Martindale,
213] Theologus on modern: refine-
as| ment, ;

Thomson to Mifs ‘Youngs. .
Thunderproof, imitation of Mar- ‘

tial by, - 175-288
218| Translation from Buchanan, by
105} Cinna,

137 | Tumbledown, on flattery,
286| Verses from a new poem, entitled
248| the morning walk,

Verses on patience,

216| Verses by a lady ina decline to

her child,
246) Voltaire, lines by on his death-
139 bed,

Wa.
What is love ?
66

tn S MiG Ce
” my Le D> <a

s

THe ich! A ;