Page images
PDF
EPUB

1

It appears from Sully's original work that Henry IV. intended that all Europe should be composed into fifteen dominations, fo as to form one vast republic, peaceful in itself, and capable at all times of pacifying all its conftituent states This scheme was to be adjusted in such a manner, that each state would find it most for its own interest to support it on all occafions.

I have marked a passage in the first volume, p. 31, full of terrific truth. Look at it. "Les plus grandes, magnifiques, et serieuses affaires d'Estat tirerent leur origine, et leurs plus violens mouvements, des niaiseries, jaloufies, envies, et autres bizareries de la Cour; et se reglent plutost sur icelles, que sur les meditations et consultations bien digerées, ny fur les confiderations d'honneur, de gloire, ny du foy." THE MOST GRAND, MAGNIFICENT, AND SERIOUS AFFAIRS OF STATE DERIVE THEIR ORIGIN, AND THEIR MOST VIOLENT MOVEMENTS,

FROM THE SILLINESSES, JEALOUSIES, ENVIES, AND OTHER WHIMS OF THE

COURT, AND ARE RATHER REGU

LATED BY THESE, THAN BY MEDITATIONS, AND WELL-DIGESTED CONSULTATIONS, OR BY CONSIDERATIONS OF HONOUR, GLORY, OR GOOD FAITH."

EXLIV. SCEPTICISM AND CURIOSITY.

Chi non fa niente, non dubita di niente, "He who knows nothing doubts of nothing," says an Italian proverb. Scepticifin and curiofity are the chief springs of knowledge. Without the first we might reft contented with prejudices, and false information: without the second the mind would become indifferent, and torpid.

CXLV. SIR JOHN GERMAIN.

I shall tell you a very foolish but a true Story. Sir John Germain, ancestor of lady Betty Germain, was a Dutch adventurer, who came over here in the reign of Charles II. He had an intrigue with a countess, who was divorced, and married him. This man was so ignorant, that being told that Sir Matthew Decker wrote St. Matthew's gospel, he firmly believed it. I doubted this tale very much, till I asked a lady of quality his defcendant about it, who told me it was most true. She added that Sir John Germain was in confequence so much perfuaded of Sir Matthew's piety, that, by his will, he left two hundred pounds to Sir Matthew, to be by him diftributed among the Dutch paupers in London.

When Sir John Germain was on his

:

death-bed, his lady desired him to receive the facrament. "Do you think," said he, "that it will do me any good?" "Certainly," she answered. He took it: and, after half an hour, faid to her, "My dear, what was that little thing you made me take? You faid it would do me good, but I do not feel a bit better."

CXLVI. VIRTUOSI.

Virtuofi have been long remarked to have little confcience in their favourite

pursuits. A man will steal a rarity, who would cut off his hand rather than take the money it is worth. Yet in fact the crime is the fame.

Mr. *** is a truly worthy clergyman, who collects coins and books. A friend of mine mentioning to him that he had feveral of the Strawberry Hill editions, this clergyman faid, "Aye, but I can shew you what it is not in Mr. Walpole's power to give you." He then produced a lift of the pictures in the Devonshire, and other two collections in London, printed at my prefs. I was much furprized. It was, I think, about the year 1764, that, on reading the fix volumes of "London and its Environs," I ordered my printer to throw off one copy for my own use. This printer was the very man who, after he had left my service, produced the noted copy of Wilkes's Eflay on Woman. He had stolen one copy of this lift; and I must blame the reverend amateur for purchasing it of him, as it was like receiving stolen

goods.

CXLVII. ORIGINAL LETTER.

Strawberry Hill, Sept. 17, 1785.

You are too modest, Sir, in asking my advice on a point, on which you coud have no better guide than your own judgment. If I prefume to give you my opinion, it is from zeal for your honour. I think it would be below you to make a regular anfwer to anonymous scriblers in a magazine. You had better wait to fee whether any formal reply is made to your book, and whether by any avowed writer, to whom, if he writes sensibly and decently, you may condescend to make an answer.

Still, as you say you have been mifquoted, I should not wish you to be quite filent, though I shoud like better to have you turn fuch enemies into ridicule. A foe who misquotes you ought to be a welcome antagonist. He is to humble as to confefs, when he censures what you have not faid, that he cannot confute what you have faid and he is so kind as to furnish

[blocks in formation]

furnish you with an opportunity of proving him a liar, as you may refer to your book to detect him.

This is what I would do: I would specify in the fame magazine, in which he has attacked you, your real words, and those he has imputed to you, and then appeal to the equity of the reader. You may guess that the shaft comes from fomebody whom you have cenfured, and thence you may draw a fair conclufion that you had been in the right to laugh at one, who was reduced to put his own words into your mouth, before he could find fault with them: and having to done, whatever indignation he excited in the reader must recoil on himself, as the of fenfive passages will come out to have been his own, not your's. You might even begin with loudly condemning the words, or thoughts, imputed to you, as if you retracted them-and then, as if you turned to your book, and found you had faid no fuch thing there, as what you was ready to retract, the ridicule would be doubled on your adverfary. Something of this kind is the most I woud stoop to: but I woud take the utmost care not to betray a grain of more anger than is implied in contempt and ridicule. Fools can only revenge themselves by provoking, for then they bring you to a level with themselves. The good sense of your Work will fupport it and there is scarce a reason for defending it, but by keeping up a controverfy, to make it more noticed: for the age is so idle and indifferent, that few objects strike, unless parties are formed for or against them. I remember many years ago advising some acquaintance of mine who were engaged in the direc

41

tion of the Opera, to raise a competition between two of their fingers, and have papers written pro and con-for then numbers woud go to clap and hiss the rivals respectively, who woud not go to be pleased with the mufic.

Dr. Lort was chaplain to the late archbishop, Sir, but I believe is not fo to the present, nor do I know whether at all connected with him. I do not even know where Dr. Lort is, having seen him but once the whole fummer. I am acquainted with another perion, who I be lieve has fome intereft with the prefent archbishop; but I conclude that leave must be asked to confult the particular books, as probably indifcriminate accefs coud not be granted.

I

I have not a single correfpondent left at Paris. The Abbè Barthelemi, with whom I was very intimate, behaved most unhandfomely to me after Madame du Deffand's death; when I had acted by him in a manner that called for a very different return. He coud have been the most proper person to apply to; but I cannot ask a favour of one, to whom I had done one, and who has been very ungrateful. might have an opportunity perhaps e'er long of making the inquiry you defire, tho' the perfon to whom I must apply is rather too great to employ; but if I can bring it about, I will; for I shoud have great pleafure to affift your pursuits, tho from my long acquaintance with the world, I am very diffident of making promises that are to be executed by others, however fincerely I am myself

ORIGINAL

To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine.

SIR,

THE following lines were written on contemplating that heterogeneous mixture of war and religion which has been for some time fo fashionable. War and religion incorporate like oil and vinegar; they may be beat up together, but they do not unite kindly. There is however one description of the military, whose professional duty includes nothing in it inimical to the purest spirit of chriftianity. When a Citizen is armed for the defence of his country, he has more need, as Uncle Toby observes, to pray to God than any man alve; and he may confecrate his colours with a safe confcience. Some friends, to whom I have read the following lines, are pleased to object that the parties are not altogether fuch as I have represented them; that our priests do now and then breathe holy fa, and that our military affociations have MONTHLY MAG. NO. XLI,

Sir, your obedient humble servant, HOR, WALFOLE.

POETRY.

not quite that ardent love for liberty which they are here supposed to have. To this I can only say, that if they will not accept it as a reprefenta ion of what is, they must'take it as a hint of what ought to be.

X. Y.

I am, Sir, your obedient servant, On the CONSECRATION of the COLOURS of the MILITARY ASSOCIATION of

[blocks in formation]

Not this the fane, nor our's the rite In which the tons of war delight; Of hecatombs no slaughter'd store The marble altars float with gore; No priest with bloody fingers dy'd Deep in the gasping victim's fide, In life's receffes curious pries To search the secrets of the skies; Our lips no holy curses breathe, Our hands no guilty laurels wreatho, And much ye must your banners low'r To enter thro' our arched door.

Here stands the font, in whose pure wave
From finful taint our babes we lave:
There heaves the turf, beneath whose sod
Our fainted fathers rest in God.

Here peaceful broods the mystic dove,
And brethren share the feast of love;
The walls in letter'd tablets teach,
And monumental marbles preach:
Low fighs from contrite breasts exhale,
Incessant pleadings heav'n affail;
Clear voice to voice responsive calls,
The dew of grace like manna falls,
And when we close these hallow'd gates,
Aloof each worldly passion waits.
Then what have we with war to do?
Sons of earth, 'tis made for you!

SOLDIER.

O think not us, who here intrude,
The nurselings of Ambition's brood.
Of martial garb, but peaceful hearts,
The fons of industry and arts,
No fordid hire pollutes our hands,
Ne thirst of plunder fires our bands;
The civic sword each Briton wields,
Defends his hearths, his altars, fields.
If foes presumptuous dare invade,
To us our country cries for aid;

To us their hands our children spread,
We guard from wrong the nuptial bed;
From us, the joys of home who feel,
Like lightning falls the vengeful steel.

Dejected, if a people mourn,
Their trampled rights, their charters torn,
And fecret swell with high disdain
Beneath Oppreffion's galling chain;

The murmur strikes our jealous ears,
We feel their groans, we catch their fears;

To us afflicted Freedom calls,

By us the crested tyrant falls.

"Tis ours the sword alone to draw

For order, liberty, and law,

And well the hands that plow the foil
Shall guard the produce of their toil.

Then let us, while such vows we feal,
Here on your hallow'd threshold kneel;
And reverent thus our banners low'r,
To enter thro' your arched door.

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

Too long the scalding drops of grief have rain'd,

The wife's, the virgin's fading roses stain'd. Too long has fame with pestilential breath, Spread the ftill growing tales of endless death. In vain the cheerful day with laughing eye, Pour'd streams of gladness o'er the waking sky. In vain his golden banners light has spread, While fair creation lifts her smiling head. No more, in darkness cloth'd, and fit array, Has wilful murder sought his fleeping prey. The shameless fiend his open deeds has done, And woes eclipse has veil'd th' all-cheering

fun.

[blocks in formation]

And speak the child, the husband, loverflain.
The cruel fate of friends, in distant shores,
Of dearest friends distracted grief deplores;
In filence funk, without one tender tear,
To foften fickness, or to grace the bier.
Whose clofing fight in vain, in foreign lands,
One parting look, one friendly hand demands.
There all by felfish pain, or fear exprefs'd,
Can ill fupply a balm for other's breaft.
In fickly ifles, beyond the Atlantic waste,
What thousands down to death inglorious

hafte!

There fever with infatiate fury feeds;
In every breeze, where foul infection breeds.
There e'en the few, whom fate is pleas'd to

fave,
Scarce steal an hour to dig the victim's grave.
Dawns a new day, and kind enquiries find
The sprightly friend of eve to death confign'd.
And mantled night, in forrow's dark array,
Moures the waste defolation of the day.

[blocks in formation]

Diffugere nives, redeunt jam gramina campis Arboribusque come.

HORATII Carmin. Lib. iv. Ode vii.

STERN winter, frowning, now recedes,
Now rarely sweeps along the meads
The defolating storm;
Benumming frosts at length retire,
Which chill'd fair nature's genial fire,
And marr'd her angel-form.

Now tepid breezes fan the air,
The trees their beauties now repair,

And wave, with foliage crown'd;
Young flow'rets now put forth their bloom,
The gardens breathe a rich perfume,
And verdure paints the ground.

The fun, bright sov'reign of the day,
Reigns now with mild, unclouded, ray,

And gay the groves appear; The birds their tuneful loves repeat, And, warbling from the close retreat, Re-animate the year.

Come then, sweet spring's delights to tafte; No longer, my Maria, waste

Those hours in routs and noife,
Which you so well know how to use
With taste, with reason, and the Muse,
And theirs are truest joys:

Come taste the bliss the country yields,
Come breathe the fragrance of the fields,
Or, mid the noon-tide hear,
Come feck again your fav'rite bow'r,
Where oft we've pafs'd the fultry hour,
With books, and converse sweet.

Here friendship rules without controul,
Here wisdom elevates the foul
Above this earthly fod;
Here dwells content, devoid of care,
Here nature's works, fupremely fair,
Point up to nature's God.

[blocks in formation]

III.

EPIGRAM 19, B. VI. TO A LAWYER.

TRAPP'D by my neighbour in his clover,
Three pigs I fee'd you to recover.

Before the court you gravely stand,
And stroke your wig, and smooth your band;
Then, taking up the kingdom's story,
You ope' your cafe with Alfred's glory;
Of Norman William's curfew bell,
And Cœur de Lion's prowess tell;
How thro' the ravag'd fields of France
Edwards and Henries shook the lance;
How great Eliza o'er the main
Purfu'd the shatter'd pride of Spain,
And Orange broke a tyrant's chain.

All this, good Sir, is mighty fine;
But now, an please you, to my swine!

RECOVERY.

AN ODE FROM KLOPSTOCK,

RECOVERY! daughter of Creation too,
Tho' not for immortality defign'd,
The Lord of life and death
Sent thee from heaven to me.

}

Had not I heard thy gentle tread approach, Not heard the whisper of thy welcome voice, Death had with iron foot

My chilly forehead prest.

Tis true, I then had wander'd where the earths
Roll around suns, had stray'd along the path
Where the man'd comet foars
Beyond the armed eye;

And with the rapturous eager greet had hail'd
The inmates of those earths and of those suns;
Had hail'd the countless hoft

That dwell the comet's disk;
Had afk'd the novice questions, and obtain'd
Such answers as a sage vouchsafes to youth;
Had learn'd in hours far more
Than ages here unfold!
But I had then not ended here below,
What, in the enterprising bloom of life,
Fate with no light behest
Requir'd me to begin.

Recovery! daughter of Creation too,
Tho' not for immortality design'd,
The Lord of life and death
Sent thee from heaven to me.

HISTORY

HISTORY AND DESCRIPTION OF THE ISLAND OF MALTA.

(Illustrated with a correct Map.)

[The following valuable article respect ing an Island which has always attracted the attention of mankind, and which has lately been a peculiar fubject of po'itical speculation, has been communigentleman whose oppor

cated to us by

a

tunities of collecting original information are confiderable, and who has combined with his own materials those of all the writers who have had occafion to defcribe

it.]

THE

HE three islands which lately composed the fovereignty of the Grand Master and the Knights of St. John of Jerufalem, are MALTA, Gozo, and LA CUMINO. In approaching them by sea, the coasts of all the islands appear bare and barren, particularly that of Gozo, which presents to the view the ruggedest shore to be seen any where; but they are all covered over with towers, redoubts, and fortifications of various kinds.Malta, however, affords a very fine prospect in failing towards it from Sicily, notwithstanding the shore in this part is rather low and rocky.

To a veffel approaching the harbour of Valetta, the chief port and metropolis of the ifland, nothing can be more striking than the external aspect of the city; and nothing more terrible (in failing under it) than the almost impregnable fortress of St. Elmo, the bastions of which are erected on a rock hanging over and projecting into the fea, with dreadful batteries completely defending the entrance of both the ports.

The stranger is no less struck on getting to land, (in this seemingly new world), when he first takes a view of the interior of the harbour; the innumerable forts; the two towns erected in an amphitheatre; the edifices, which, though none of themstrikingly beautiful, yet are all in good taste, commodious, and very well built, and have the appearance of being founded on vast and noble bastions; together with the beautiful and extensive flights of stone steps, which lead to large streets, all perfectly straight and parallel, and remarkably well paved with white freestone; these various objects combined form a most fuperb profpect, inferior per haps in magnificence to none, and certainly not resembling that of any other city upon earth.

The new town is that part of the city which is built on the right-side of the harbour, and takes its name from its founder, Frederick John de Valetta, one

of the grand masters, and the illustrious defender of Malta: it was built foon after the famous siege by the Turks in 1550. On the other fide, adjoining to the harbour for the gallies, is another large town, where the knights formerly dwelt before they removed to Valetta. It is in every refpect as clean and as elegantly built as the latter. The ships and gallies of the order lie in the harbour at the bottom of which it stands.

The houses in both the towns are built of free-ftone, of fuch remarkable beauty as to appear always new; and the earth and dust are so white, that far from foiling the walls, they appear perfectly to renew their colour. This whiteness, however, of the pavements and walls, (both in town and country) creates no little duft; and from its colour, which is offenfive to the eye, and the heat reflected by it, many of the inhabitants are said to be remarkably weak-fighted. The streets are generally crowded with welldrest people, who appear to live in health and affluence; and the inns here have all the appearance of palaces.

The principal buildings are the palace of the Grand Master, the Infirmary, the Arsenal, the Inns or Hotels of the Seven Tongues, and the great and very magnificent church of St. John. The pavement of this last is reckoned the richest in the world. It is entirely compofed of fepulchral monuments of the finest marbles, porphyry, lapis lazuli, and other valuable stones, admirably fitted together, and representing, in a kind of Mofaic, the arms and infignia of those whom they are in tended to commemorate. In the magnificence of these monuments, the heirs of the grand masters and commanders long vied with each other. The palace is a very noble, though a plain structure; and the grand nafters, who generally con fulted conveniency more than magnificence, were thought to be more comfortably and commodioufly lodged than any prince in Europe, the king of Sardinia excepted. The great stair-cafe is much admired, and spoken of by travellers as the easiest and best they ever saw. As the whole of Valetta is built upon an eminence, none of the streets, except those along the quay, are level.

The total number of the knights of the order was about a thousand. The household attendance and court of the grand master were very princely, and his power was more absolute than that of many monarchs

t

« PreviousContinue »