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ulster's direct interest (nay his safety) mean while, requiring him to push the desperate game, and even in self-defence, to increase that very expence which is his crime; to entrench himself still deeper in corruption, and by headlong and unmeasured extravagance, to have the means of justifying to the faithful Commons, his former mismanagement and misdeeds.—See where this ends, but forget not where it begins.
I am led here very naturally to speak upon the subject of certain regulations, which have been the object of your late assemblies *;nd deliberations. Indeed, I have brought myself to this matter almost unavoidably, but not unwillingly. I gladly embrace this most public opportunity of delivering my sentiments, not only to all my constituents, but to those likewise, not my constituents, whom yet in the large fense I represent, and am faithfully to serve; not only to twenty thousand, my electors, but to hundreds of thousands, in the county I represent, (to go no farther) who are to suffer under the bad conduct of parliament; and of declaring my intentions, regarding the two chief articles contained in the resolutions agreed to at your late meetings; I mean, rendering parliaments triennial, and adding to the number of county representatives.
I do intend to give my voice, if I have the honour of continuing ir* your service, for the change of septennial parliaments. And this, not because 1 am so sanguine as some are, in a full persuasion, that it will be a cure for all our evils; no, nor even that 1 promise myself it will be attended with any
such sure hope os considerable advantage, (at least, if unaccompanied by some other steps tending to purify the sources of election and representation) but chiefly, because, on the best information I have obtained, I have reason to believe it is the mind and desire of a very large number of my constituents: this seeming to me to be the one point (at least with distinguished preference) on which the sender, not he who is sent, has the perfect right to judge; and that, e\ en if after all, I should have mistaken their general sense, it will be at least the safer error; since there it a manifest difference between the obtmding one's self for seven years on him who wishes to ha\e his choice again at the end of three; and returning for his approbation at three, when he might perhaps have been well content to trust one for seven.'
I have a momentary pleasure in adding (especially when supported by your opinions) that I am willing to flatter myself, rather good than evil may arise from the change.
But I look upon restoring election and" representation in some degree (for I expect no miracles) to their original purity, to be that, without which all other efforts will be vain and ridiculous. The tenantright, or good-will of a lease of three years, is as saleable as that of a lease of seven. It will find its price at both the London and country markets. It will be bought, it will be sold. The member will be as manageable, if the constituent be as venal. And they will not be afraid to meet at market as often as you please.
The adding to the county representation, if by no means a perfect
cure. cure, seems yet to me to be the plainest and best proposition for this purpose, that ha: yet come ■under my observation. I trust, likewise, it may be practicable. I therefore embrace it, not only from a deference to your opinion, but with an approbation of my own. Yet, not flattering you, that it appears to me one of those matters easy of execution, or to be done with a thought; on the contrary, it is more complicated (as it seems to me more effectual) than the first-mentioned alteration. But this is no time to talk of small rubs, or difficulties. If something be not done, you may, indeed, retain the outward form of your constitution, but not the power thereof.
For it is too serious a truth to be concealed, and, indeed, it is too late seriously to attempt to conceal it, that if the electors, forgetting the solemn duty they owe to the millions of their fellow-subjects, whose rights they are in the first instance intrusted with; if, forgetting the sacred trust reposed in them, of choosing those who are to govern those millions; if, forgetting that they are therefore a fort of representatives of all the people (who would be too numerous to vote themselves); I fay, if forgetting these things, and shamefully prostituting themselves, they are become so profligate as to fell themselves and their country; let them not wonder (nay, scarcely can they complain without sliame) if those whom they choose, imitating their conduct, retail daily those rights which they have bought, whether it be at the septennial, triennial, or annual fairs,
and markets. We can converse thus without a blusli.
Neither time permits, nor does propriety allow me to enter into arguments in support of a sentiment of which (much I think to your honour) you have declared your approbation. But although it suits neither the time, nor the circumstance, to argue and debate, I trust you will not think I am out of the line of propriety, of duty, or of the respect I owe you, in thus making a public declaration of my opinions and intentions ia matters concerning which, aster the tender I have made of my service, you have an unquestionable right, as you must have a natural wish, to be informed.
When I began this paper, I had reason to believe the time pressed; I was soon confirmed in what I had heard. It was become material to address you quickly, if at all: but although what I have written hast been the work of a sew hours, do not think that the matter has not again and again been 'the subject of deliberate thought. I should not have dared to have presented you with crude and undigested ideas, or the fancy of a moment: but, on the other hand, so inattentive have I been to the advantages this address might receive, in its form, from the assistance of abler persons than myself, that I venture to submit it thus publicly to you, without the opportunity of communicating it to those whose principles, judgment, and line of conduct in the public walk, I have been habituated to look up to with high respect and esteem.
My business is not to write ably to you, but to write with sincerity.
The The relation that stands now between us, gives you a right, if I may so speak, to my unrnended sentiments; and I willingly submit every defect to your censure, lather than be supposed to use management and art, or to consult what is conformable to personal or party considerations, instead of that which unbridled truth (according to my conception of it) requires of me. What farther steps may be in contemplation towards obtaining the Laudable object of our wishes, I do not know: but it is not probable that what has lately arirt.ii will slacken the zeal of those who have already stepped forward in the business. With that idea upon my mind, it is impossible for me to conclude without expressing an earnest wish, that whatever is thought of may be pursued with that true spirit of firmness and moderation, which belongs to the cause of justice 3 and above all, that by every means that can be
devised, a good understanding and union may be insured amongst respectable men of all ranks and descriptions, who agree in the main principles of liberty; although there may be shades of difference, in smaller points, or in matters not calling for immediate discussion. Indeed, you will find it true wisdom, and a very honourable policy, to strengthen the cause of your country with every honest aid that can be obtained.— No public cause was ever carried by divided efforts.
Till 1 have the honour of meeting you in the exercise of the great and respectable function of choosing your representatives, I beg leave to subscribe myself, Gentlemen, with perfect respect, and a remembrance of all your kindness, Your most obliged,
and faithful humble servant, O. Savili-e.
JfsrwcafiU ufm Tjne, Sept. 5, 1780.
Cbaraeler ami Manners of the Venetians. From a Vieiu of Society and Manners in Italy, by Dr. Moore.
I A M very sensible, that it requires a longer residence at Venice, and better opportunities than I have had, to enable me to give a character of the Venetians. But were I to form an idea of them from what 1 have seen, I should paint them as a lively ingenious people, extravagantly fond ot public amusements, with au uncommon relish for humour, and yet more attached to the real enjoyments of life, than to those wnich depend on ostentation, and proceed from vanity.
The common people of Venice display some qoaiities very rarely to be found in that sphere o: life, being remarkably sober, obliging to strangers, and gentle in their intercourse with each other. The Venetians in general are tall and well made. Though equally robust, th(;y are not so corpulent as the Germans. The latter also are of fair complexions, with light grey or blue eyes; whereas the Venetians are for the most part of a ruddy brown colour, with dark eyes. You meet iu the streets of Venice many sine manly countenances, resembling those transniitVor.. XX1IJ.
ted to us by the pencils of Paul Veronese and Titian. The women are of a fine style of countenance, with expressive features, and a skin, of a rich carnation. They dress their hair in a fanciful manner, which becomes them very much. They are of an easy address, and have no aversion to cultivating an acquaintance with those strangers who are presented to t em by their relations, or have been properly recommended.
Strangers are under less restraint here, in many particulars, tiis.n the native inhabitants. I have known some, who. after having trier) most of the capitals of Europe, have preferred to live at Venice, on account of the variety of amusements the gentle manners of the inhabitant, and the perfect freedom allowed in every thing, except in "blaming the measures of government. I haie already mentioned in what manner the Venetians are in danger of being treated who give themselves that liberty. 'When a stranger is so imptudent as to declaim against the form or the measures of government, he will either receive a message to leave the territories of the State, or one of the Sbirri will be sent to accompany him to the Pope's or the Emperor's dominions.
The houses are thought inconvenient by many of the Englilh: they are better calculated, however, for the climate of itnly, than if they were built according tothe London model, which, I suppose, is the plan those critics approve. The floors are of a kind of red plaister, with a brilliant glosty surface, much more beautiful than wood, and far preferable in cafe of sire, whose progress they are calculated to check.
The principal apartments are on the second floor. The Venetians seldom inhabit the first, which is often intirely silled with lumber: perhaps they prefer the second, because it is farthest removed from the moisture of the lakes; or perhaps they prefer it, because it is better lighted, and more cheerful; or they may have some better reason for this preference than I am acquainted with, or can. imagine. Though the inhabitants of Great Britain make use of the first floors for their chief apartments, this does not form a complete demonstration that the Venetians are in the wrong for preferring the second. When an acute sensible people universally follow one custom, in a mere matter of conveniency, however absurd that custom may appear in the eyes of a stranger at siist fight, it will generally be found, that there is tome real advantage in it, which compensates ail the apparent inconveniences.
I had got, I don't know how, the most contemptuous opinion of the Italian drama. 1 had been told, there was not a tolerable actor at present in Italy, and I had been long taught to consider their comedy as the roost despica
ble stuff in the world, which could not amuse, or even draw a smile from any person of taste, being quite destitute of true humour, lull of ribaldry, and only proper for the meanest of the vulgar. Impressed with these sentiments, and eager to give his Grace a full demonstration of their justness, I accompanied the D— of H— to the stage-box of one of the play-houses the very day of our arrival at Venice.
The. piece was a comedy, and the most entertaining character in it was that of a man who stuttered. In this defect, and in the singular grimaces with which the actor accompanied it, consisted a great part of the amusement.
Disgusted at such a pitiful substitution for wit and humour, I expressed a contempt for an audience which could be entertained by such buffopnery, and who couid take pleasure in the exhibition of a natural infirmity.
While we inwardly indulged sentiments of self-approbation, on account of the refinement and superiority of our own taste, and supported the dignity of those sentiments by a disdainful gravity of countenance, the stutterer was giving a piece of information to Harlequin, which greatly interested him, and to which he listened with every mark of eagerness. This unfortunate speaker had just arrived at the most important part nf his narrative, which was, to acquaint the impatient listener where his mistress was concealed, when he unluckily Sunbled on a word of six or seven syllables, which completely obstructed the progress of his narration. He attempted it again and again, but