vading probably every part of our fyftem? The accurate obfervations which are now made in each civilized country, will every day difcover more to us, and by comparing future obfervations with the accounts given in preceding ages, fucceeding generations may be enabled to determine the return of a comet with the fame ease that we afcertain the motions of any of the planets,

The prefent State of the Manners, Arts, and Politics, of France and Italy; in a Series of poetical Epiftles, from Paris, Rome, and Naples, in 1792 and 1793: addreffed to Robert Jephfon, Elq. By J. Courtney, M.P. 8vo. 2s. 6d. fewed. Robinson. 1794.

MR.

R. Courtney, whofe exquifite raillery and brilliant wit, have fo frequently enlivened a dull debate in the houfe of commons, in the publication before us, has indulged at once. his humour and his fancy; and, in a ftrain of light and pleasant poetry, has prefented the public with a feries of lively remarks on the moft prominent topics of the day, in most of the countries of Europe. The French revolution occupies a confpicuous place in this publication, and we obferve with pleasure, that while Mr. Courtney is the warm advocate for liberty, he evinces a marked disapprobation of whatever is cenfurable in the conduct of that nation. Some circumstances connected with that fubject, do not, indeed, accord most happily with the lively ftrain of these letters: the hiftory of maffacres does not run fmoothly in dactyls.-In fome refpects, however, the eccentricity of the French has furnished excellent topics for the fportive mufe of Mr. Courtney; nor is his talent for irony lefs happily employed in ridiculing what some have termed the bleffings of the old government of France. Mon dieu! what a riot! the people now reign, They're as faucy as Britons, and fling off their chain; All bold and erect, every ruffian we meet,

And the coachmen, in tremors, scarce trot thro' the street:
With a flourishing whip once they gallop'd along,

And crush'd out the fouls of the infolent throng;

To fracture a leg, was but reckon'd a joke,

While the chariot was whirling thro' foam and thro' smoke:
How delightfully fhrill the vile porters would bawl,

As their guts were squeez'd out, though they crept to the wall!
And the fpruce fimp'ring beaux, with a grace, and an air,
Said, the ftreets are too narrow,-why should they be there?
But now the canaille plead the freedom of man,
And "the more is the pity," cries Mallet du Pan *.

· All

Ask the porter in the street, who was formerly squeezed between the

coach

All order is loft, no diftinctions remain,
Croffes, ribbands, and titles, no rev'rence obtain,
Yet these innovators, whofe crimes I deteft,
Say mortals are equal,-the best are the best;
In fome things they're equal, as ev'ry one knows,
Each man has two arms, two legs, and one nose;
And of the fame blood is the poissarde and madam,
If we foolishly wander to Eve, and to Adam:
But who can e'er doubt, where nobility fhines,
That the blood in its course both ferments and refines ;
Impregnate with virtue, it fplendidly flows,
Tho' from the fame fource it congenially rofe;
So parfnips and carrots a fpirit produce,

But the flavour and ftrength are confin'd to the juice:
Tho' meteors from dunghills with luftre arife,

Is the filth left behind like the flame in the skies?
As the bloffoms and fruit,-the fweet nobles we see,
Like the clod, the mere vulgar fhould nourish the tree;
Comte, prince, and marquis, are fomewhat divine,
And the multitude fure little better than fwine :
Then on this great topic let's have no more babble,
For the nobles are nobles, the people are rabble †.'

Thus the flush of dear fentiment brighten'd the face,
And beauty from fashion deriv'd a new grace;
Senfation was taught mental feelings to prize,
And the wifh of the heart gave a tongue to the eyes;
Sweetly throbb'd with emotion the fenfitive breast,
As myrtle deliciously breathes when it's prefs'd.
Social tafte gave the ton, fped the bleffings of life,
And every man courted another man's wife:

Thus friends were attach'd by the charms of each woman,
As the primitive Chriftians had all things in common.
Love fpread her gauze veil, and became more refin'd,
And the joys of the fenfe were imprefs'd on the mind:
So the painter's bright tints we with rapture admire,
When enamel'd they shine, and are fix'd by the fire.'

coach-wheel and the wall, if he is forry, that the coach and he who rode in it are both van jeed Confiderations on the French Revolution, tranflated from the French of M. Mallet du Pan, p. 73.

+ Mr. Bofwell, in his late admirable Life of Dr. Johnfon, after flating the clains which an English merchant may urge, as a new fpecies of gentleman," to the respect which has been long paid to hereditary honours, concludes in the true fpirit of the laird of Auchinlec-" Such are the fpecious, but falfe, arguments for a propofition which always will find numerous advocates, in a nation where men are every day starting from obfcurity to wealth. To refute them is needlefs. The general fenfe of mankind cries out with irrefiftible force, Un gentrihomme est toujours gentilhomme." Life of Johnfon, vol, i, p. 451.' Here

64

Here the pretty bourgeoife, dreft in fmiles and in charins,

Oft ogled the courtier, and flew to his arms;
And a lettre de cachet fecur'd them their blifs,
For the spouse was bafil'd, and faw nothing amifs.
What a delicate trait of the lover and wife,
To fave the poor cuckold from conjugal strife!
But alas! all these pretty manoeuvres are o'er;
True politeness is fled,—the Bastile is no more!
When lettres de cachet were fign'd, and were ready,
They kept millions fubmiffive, and government steady ;
And ma'm Pompadour by fo lenient a law,
The culprit reform'd, by bread, water, and ftraw.
At ber concert, Tartini play'd hy-der-dum-diddie,
And Diderot fneer'd at the twang of his fiddle:
But it coft him full dear; in a cell he lay low,
Till peccavi he cry'd to this knight of the bow.
Thus the chains of refpe&t were ne'er riven afunder,
And the court of Verfailles ftir'd up envy and wonder.
No more from each province will fair ladies trudge,
To folicit their fuit, and enrapture the judge;
So the rigour of juftice was foften'd by love,
And the harpy of ftrife took the form of a dove:
The fpirit of chivalry reign'd o'er the laws,
When the glances of beauty decided the cause.
But Gallia is ruin'd, and chivalry dead,
And the glory of Europe for ever is fled;
Proud freedom in fervitude lately we saw,
But now, fex and rank are enflav'd by the law;
The grace of life's gone, which came hither unbought,
Of heroes the nurfe, and of ev'ry bright thought.
How chafte the men's honour! a ftain was a fear,
But no lady was fcratch'd in this chivalry war:
Vice loft all its groffnefs, became pure and fine,
And to virtue was chang'd by a polish divine;
As water polluted, and foul to the fight,
By filt'ring, again runs pellucid and bright.

So Caffavi's roots a dire venom contain,

Squeeze out the grofs juice, and you fqueeze out the bane.

For this logic perfuafive no merit I claim,

Edmund proves vice and virtue fublimely the fame :

His eulogium, our own native Trinity tells,

Tho' Oxford refufes her cap-without bells!"

From Italy, the topics of our author are more varied, and are frequently replete with humour and entertainment.

At Pavia a fingular cuftom prevails,

To protect the poor debtor from bailiffs and jails;
He difcharges his fcore without paying a jot,

By feating himfelf on a flone, fans culotte;

T

There folemnly fwearing, as honest men ought,
That he's poorer than Job, when reduc'd to a groat;
Yet this naked truth with fuch ftigma difgraces,
That the rogue, as on nettles, fits, making wry faces.
How ftrange in fuch folks to be troubled with shame!
If we paid our debts by performing the fame,
Our commons and peers of their feat would be proud,
Take this oath of conformity laughing aloud;
Our faro-bank ladies would relish the jest,
And their honour restore by this ludicrous teft;
The free-ftone from friction would foon want repairs,
As penitent knees wear St. Peter's hard stairs.'

The following account of the Italian gardens, will, perhaps, furprize those who have not travelled in the country, and who have been accustomed to confider it as the emporium of tafte. It will remind fome readers of a paper, either in the Spectator or the Guardian, on the fame fubject.

The tafte here for gardens defcription defies,

For the mould black and dufty is blown in your eyes;
O'er the grafs parch'd and blafted no rivulets spread,
But are fquirted from trees caft in iron or fead

The warblers of nature flit off on the wing,

Left their love fhould be prun'd,-to inftruct them to fing;
For fongfters and flutes are prepar'd the fame way,

They're fcoop'd, and they're trim'd, till they pour the sweet lay.
In tubs cram'd with dirt drooping flow'rets appear,

And a pound, or a paddock, encircles the deer.

For rural delights, thro' the alleys we run,

And are blinded by fand, or befcorch'd by the fun :
No arbour, no fhade, and no verdure is seen,

For the trees and the turf are all colours but green.
Here the faints of the rubrick are planted in rows,
St. Dunstan, in box, takes Old Nick by the nose;
Sufannah, in holly, refifts the attack,
And the elders, in willow, are laid on their back;
Father Adam, in fir, lives in evergreen pride,
And, grafted in myrtle, Eve peeps from his fide.
The venomous yew Sarah's jealousy shows,
And the fenfitive plant Hagar's feelings disclose;
There Jud th ftill fhakes Holophernes's head,
While the cyprefs difplays how the heroine fped;
Father Noah is fhap'd from his dearly-loved vine;
Lot's daughters in ivy their parent entwine;
The hawthorn afpires Jael's deed to explain,
And fupplies nail and hammer for Sifera's brain.'

In his account of Naples, Mr. Courtney introduces a pleafant anecdote, which might poffibly apply to some other coun

tries.

7

• Here

• Here tribes of wife lawyers in robes moft decorous,
Snap, wrangle, and fcold, and bawl in full chorus;
The client is beggar'd, the knave his cash gathers,
So the fox eats the goofe, leaves the farmer the feathers.
'Tis faid how a pope, mov'd by pity divine,

In a famine at Rome, fent to Naples for fwine;
Thirty thousand at least; marquis Carpio in hope
To fave fuch a herd, yet not anger the pope,
Devoutly reply'd-Blefled father, I fwear,

In lawyers I'll pay you,-the pigs I can't fpare.'

The reveries of our modern philofophers are often happily introduced; and, among the reft, Mr. Godwin's fingular project of immortality comes in for a fly stroke:

But we're all borne to die, both the weak and the strong, Unle's our existence fage Godwin prolong;

He'll teach us, by reafon death's portals to batter,

"When the mind grows omnipotent over dead matter;"
Then the foul will eternife her manfion, as easy
As eggs are preferv'd by ftill keeping them greafy;
She'll charcoal our bodies, they'll feel no decay,
But fcorn the dry rot, thro' eternity's day.'

We can cheerfully recommend this publication as an excellent remedy against the spleen, and as a lively companion in a poft chaife, or to fuch of our people of fafhion as are retiring at this feason, from fin and fea-coal,' to 'doleful shades,' or the gloomy manfions of their feudal ancestors.

The Hiftory of England, from the earliest Dawn of Record, to the Peace of 1783. By Charles Coote, LL. D. (Continued from Vol. X. p. 376.)

IN

N refuming the confideration of this work at the fecond volume, which commences with the Conquest, and extends to the death of John, A. D. 1216, we find more matter, of applause, and lefs of blame, in proportion as the author advances to more modern periods than those which entangle and perplex the path of even the most painful antiquary. We thall not enter into the difpute, whether the feudal system was uted in England prior to the time of the Conqueror; he at any rate certainly lent greater extent to its operations, and more vigour to its connexions: and the following extract well depicts the circumftances of this great event:

• These abortive attempts to fubvert the power of William, ferved only to fix it on a stronger bafis. The eafy difcomfiture of the malecontents feemed to preclude all their hopes of future fuccefs:

the