in The corruption of the times has made of the diversion of gaming, a sort of trade and occupation. The way of speaking sometimes used for expressing a trifle, or representing a thing easily done, by the words," It is but a game," does now suit what we really call " game or gaming. Be it said to the shame of our age, that many of us, even of our prime nobility, make a wretched and contemptible practice of it. Observe, therefore, with great strictness, that to play at any game be nothing more to you than an agreeable amusement. If you suffer it to rise into a passion, it will soon be converted into madness. A gamester by profession, who exposes to the chance of a dice-box or a card, the patrimony he holds from his ancestors; who hazards the dower of his wife, or any other settlement nature has stipulated for the benefit of his children-must withdraw at last, covered with infamy and unpitied, to beg a share of the poor contributions of his parish. You will not see the intelligent man, the man that is master of his passions, sacrifice the pleasures of a fine day and calm night to the silly hopes of a sort of fortune which is seldom made, and which is never made without hurting honour and conscience. Can a serious person, can one who examines into things with cool reflection, be under no apprehension, that by indulging a passion for gaming, so as to hurt his fortune, he will not begin by being a dupe, and end by being a knave; such reflection will remain ineffectual, if, after having meditated upon it, there still remains a desire of playing deep. Innocent pleasure is inconsistent with either the intention or act, and does not exceed the hazarding of a trifle, where neither the hope of gain nor fear of loss agitate the mind; where wit is always of the party, and seasons every incident with ingenious sallies of fancy.

I know, in general, that one may be a high gamester, an honest gamester, and a noble gamester; but this character is as rare, as that of a gamester by profession is dangerous. In like manner, one may play only for a little time, and for a small matter; and yet, notwithstanding other excellent qualities, be an insupportable gamester. These are monstrous contradictions in a character, of which we cannot sufficiently avoid the effects for ourselves and others.

There is a greater certainty in deciding, that a fair gamester is an honest man, than in concluding, that an honest man (because he is such) will be a fair gamester: From whence I infer, that the quality of fair gamester deserves to be reckoned amongst the good.

It is said, that a man is never known so well, as in liquor, and at play. This is not always a sure way of judging of one's temper; yet I can scarce believe, that he who flies into a passion on account of a contrary run of luck, or who regrets the money he has lost, is on other occasions liberal and pacific. Uneasiness shews a narrow genius, and anger or avarice meanness of heart. If one has presence of mind enough to hide faults or vices, there may be cases, wherein the passionate and covetous man will appear by reflection mild and generous; but does not support this kind of hypocrisy at play: Unfavourable fortune will soon lay open his low conceptions and the brutality of his temper.

All the shocking behaviour, that is sometimes observable, even among those who stake down nothing considerable, may confirm the opinion, that it is very difficult to be strictly honest and play high. Nothing can give fo immediate an inlet to all vices.

Funds are soon wanting; they must be found at any price; then usury or injustice lend their assistance, or pretended friendship lends upon good security.

What must we think of fatal resources? But we shall form a more frightful idea of gamesters, by viewing this situation at the gamingtable. Here they often remain whole days and nights, without stirring from their seats; hunger and want of sleep are reckoned as nothing to the prejudice of health; their dejection and paleness are the image of death; and their agitation, complaints, execrations, blasphemies, &c. a representation of HELL.

Notwithstanding the ill consequences of an attachment to gaming, diversions of that kind, as more easily and more conveniently practi sed, are more in use than any other. Hence it is of greater consequence to know how to play well, than to be a good sportsman; but there are occasions when one should not appear quite a novice in the use of pleasures the country renders in some degree necessary. Hunting is a noble amusement, that helps to shew dexterity or vigour; that may procure useful connections with neighbours of distinction; and which, practised with moderation, produces at least two infallible resources of acquiring better health, and dissipating the heavy moments of melancholy.

The pleasure of hunting is very engaging; but it may be said, that it does not suit all states, as dancing does not all ages. When years ripen into wisdom, we should bid farewell to dancing. A mother who leads her daughter to a ball or masquerade, gives a strong proof of her! loving more her own pleasure, than the virtue of her children. A taste for theatrical exhibitions seems agreeable in all times of life; but all places: do not permit their use. Some, little acquainted with the world, or bi gotted to their own prejudices, would banish all of them indiscriminately; but it may be thought, with better reason, that if young people were taught to make a just estimate of their true value, it would be a surer way to prevent the corruption attributed to them; and, at the same time, an excellent resource would not be wanting to polish the mind, refine the taste, and form the manners,

I do not blame those who go to a new piece out of curiosity; but I blame those who only seek to satisfy their curiosity. It would be more advisable for them to go with the intention of putting themselves in good humour by the parts that excite laughter, and being softened by those that move. If I find, that in spite of me, my humour has suffered itself to be seduced by something melancholy; if I am more gloomy than I ought to be, by reflecting on slight troubles, perhaps nothing more than the embryos of the imagination, or the weakness of mind: In this situation, a more pleasant than fine piece may answer my purpose. I begin by recovering myself, I end hy being pleased. But, if no afflicting ideas prey upon my heart, I want the recreation of

a tragedy, its diction pure, sentiments grand, intrigue well conducted, catastrophe natural and judicious; or a comedy, in which I might learn every time I laugh, to guard against all subjects of ridicule.

An Opera is less a theatrical exhibition than the assemblage of many. Music, words, singing, dancing, machines, decorations: What expence! How many different operators! The spectacle is brilliant, it dazzles and astonishes you; but if you proceed to the analysis of most operas, you will find either great faults in each part, or that, out of good parts in themselves, a very indifferent whole has been made.

There are few but delight in music: It is the most exquisite and most innocent of all pleasures; it is a pleasure of all ages, all states, all places, and of almost all tastes; it may be enjoyed in its whole extent at the expence of another, without being importunate; and it may be also enjoyed in solitude: It prevents or alleviates the lowness of spirits, and raises the soul from the dejection she is sometimes thrown into by the iniquity of man. The voice, by its sweetness and different inflexions, persuades the mind, and touches the heart; and some are of opinion, that there is no music sa agreeable as the sounds of the voice of a beloved person.

There is a sort of danger in a taste for music which should be carefully avoided; and this is to be so much taken with it, as to make it one's sole or favourite occupation. This excess is a vice of the taste and mind; and the man of quality, who behaves in this respect as the musician by profession, lies open to the same ridicule as the musician who neglects music: But let not the fear of being too fond of music hinder your loving and learning it. Whoever does not love music is deprived of the most innocent of pleasures. Whoever does not know it cannot discern all its beauty; and he has neglected a talent, by the help of which he might possess wherewithal to amuse himself, and have an opportunity of amusing others. The principal end of music is to unbend the mind, and give it new strength, in order that it may afterwards apply itself with better advantage to labour.

As to the pleasures of the table, nothing more can be recommended in their use, than sobriety and moderation for health's sake; and, in their choice and quality of preparation, the taste of the nation one lives in, or has been accustomed to, may be judged good and rational. There is no possibility of being an arbiter in such case; so that all persons may enjoy "the eruditus luxus" of Petronius, by consulting only their own fancy and palate. FRAT. AQUIL. ROM.

Edinburgh, April 22, 1793.

NANECDOTE OF A WRETCHED. PORTRAIT PAINTER.

HIS Painter, who affected to be a free-thinker, was one day talking very unworthily of the Bible; a Clergyman maintained to him, that he was not only a speculative but a practical believer; the painter denied it; the clergyman said he could prove it; "you strictly. observe the second commandinent, said the parson; for in your pic tures, you make not the likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or in the water under the earth."

R. J.

ON THE

NATURE OF DESIGN AND DECORATION IN ARCHITECTURE.

RCHITECTURE is one of those arts, which necessity has made

ARGVIITECTURE is one the then fire, felh the necessity cies of the

seasons, it had its beginning; and, accordingly, it has spread wheresoever the severities of the climate demanded shelter or shade: It is to be traced in the Indian's hut, and the Greenlander's cave; and still shews, in those barbarous parts of the globe, from what mean original it arose to its present glory.

·

The ravages of the Visigoths, in the fifth century, destroyed all the most beautiful monuments of antiquity; and architecture thenceforward became so rude and artless, that their professed architects understood nothing of just designing, wherein its whole beauty consists: hence, that species of building, called the Gothic, took its rise.

Charlemagne did his utmost to restore architecture, and the French applied themselves to it with success, under the encouragement of Hugh Capet; his son Robert, succeeded him in this design, till by degrees the modern architecture was run into as great an excess of delicacy, as the Gothic had before into massiveness.

During the two last centuries, the architects of Italy, France, and England, were wholly bent upon retrieving the simplicity and beauty of the ancient architecture, in which they did not fail of success; so that we have various structures now wholly built in the taste of the ancients.

By dividing architecture into beauty and use, it will be demonstrable to every reader, that it is partly an art, and partly a science; that the first is mechanical, and the last the result of genius and superior understanding: One calls in all the aid of fancy and imagination, grows poetical in design, and picturesque in decoration; the other lays down fixed and stated rules, proceeds in the same invariable tract of reasoning, and comes always to the same conclusions. To make a thorough master, therefore, both must be united; for the propriety of a plan is seldom attended to, and seldomer understood; and a glaring pile of beauty without use, but mocks the possessor with a dream of grandeur, he can never enjoy.

But, if the science of designing is not in the genius, it is never to be learned: To be able to enter into this secret, the student must have great natural parts, a noble and fruitful imagination, a thorough insight and acquaintance with beauty, a judgment sedate, and cool enough to form a just and delicate taste. Without taste, even genius itself wan- ders blindfold, and spends itself in vain. Genius is, indeed, the first quality of the soul; but taste must be added, or we shall censure the wildness, instead of admiring the beauty; we shall be dissatisfied with the irregularity, instead of being pleased with the magnificence.

But, though genius cannot be learned, it may be improved; and tho' the gift of designing is born with a man, it may be methodised by study and observation.

The principal points, therefore, that a designer should have in view, are, first, conveniency, as has been hinted already, and then beauty and magnificence. With regard to conveniency, few directions can be given, since it means no more than contriving all the requisites belonging to a plan, in the most clear and elegant manner, and then laying out the space they are to be ranged in with the most perfect order and œconomy. As to beauty and magnificence, they are themes never to be exhausted; and, though many volumes have been written on them already, as many more might still be added.

Simplicity is generally allowed to be the ground-work of beauty, and Decoration of magnificence. It is certain, that the fewer parts a building is composed of, if they are harmonised with elegance and proportion, the more beautiful it appears: The eye is best satisfied with seeing the whole at once, not in travelling from object to object; for then the whole is comprehended with pain and difficulty, the attention is broken, and we forget one moment what we had observed anɔther.

But a contrast of figures must be observed in the midst of this simplicity: It is in building as in music; the parts are various and disagreeing in themselves, till reconciled by the skill and judgment of the master. A sameness of form betrays a poverty of imagination; and the eye is instantly glutted with it, and turns away dissatisfied. It is therefore a principal thing to be regarded by the student, to design simply and variously at the same time, and beauty will infallibly be the result of the whole.

Perspective is another grand part of designing; which demands the master's most critical regard, inasmuch as nothing contributes more to grandeur and beauty, if well understood; but this is not to be understood without difficulty and study. For in all buildings, as in pictures, there must be one principal figure, to which all the others must be subordinate; and from which you must set out to examine the parts, and to which you must return to determine of the whole.

Decoration, or choice and disposition of ornaments, is the last grand requisite to make a complete designer. And this depends partly on genius, and partly on fancy; but both must be under the conduct of the severest judgment and exactest taste. In short, all ornaments are ill-placed, that may be spared without being missed; and all empty places are absurd, where nakedness hurts the eye, and propriety would admit of decoration.

We cannot sufficiently recommend to all persons who build sumptuously, to calculate their buildings, according to the point of view from which they are to be seen; if they may or should be viewed from far, their parts should be simple, great, and noble; if the prospect is near, the workmanship should be just and little, that it may be seen and understood, according to the nature of its situation.