Mfg. S^ey concerning Elizabeth Stuart, Daughter e/'Charles I. 487

And here we cannot help taking favour the bishop's opinion, that the

notice of a mistake of trie bishop animals of America are almost all

of Bergen, who, in his Natural His- different from those of Europe,

tory of Norway, speaking of the Asia, and Africa.

Laplanders, fays, the extremes of Another argument to prove that

heat and cold occasion the dark co- they all proceeded frdm one com

lourofthe (kin. Hence it is plain, mon stock, might be taken from,

that he never considered the inha- some peculiarities belonging to these

bitants of America, who are all of a Indians, for they have all coarse

copper colour from one end os America to the other, except the Eskimeaux, we mean the native Indians, not those who are descended from a mixture of Europeans with the original inhabitants. This we can affirm, partly from our own experience, and partly from the concurring testimony of all voyagers. Some have thought this peculiar complexion owing to the air; which cannot be true; for, upon .examining some, who had been cloathed from their infancy, we found them to be the colour of bright red copper, Indians, who have little or no clothes, have a custom of daubing themselves all over with grease, which gives them a dusky hue, and has occasioned some to say they were of an olive complexion; but this however is not natural. These Indians seem all to be descended from the same parents; but whether they came here soon after the flood, as Charlevoix thinks, or before it, as the bishop of Clogher believes, we cannot pretend to determine; though there is one thing which seems to

black hair, and no beards; besides, they have no hair on their breasts, under their arm-pits, or on any other parts of their bodies. We know the old story of the women being employed to pluck the men's beards, &c. up by the roots, which has been handed from one author to another, time out of mind; but this may be refuted by experience; for tho' the Turks, both men and women, use a caustic composition to take off the hairs, yet it does not prevent its growing again, and they are forced to repeat it as often as it repullulates. However, the latest and most sensible travellers all agree that this is nothing but a mere fiction; as we likewise affirm from our examination and experience. Hence it is evident, that the climate only is not the cause of the peculiar complexion of any people whatever. Besides, every one may observe, that blacks will be blacks, let them live in what country they will, and that the descendants of the negroes from Africa will have woolly heads, tho' they are born in the very middle of a temperate zone.

To tht Autlors of the British Magazine, Gentxemen, TN an excursion T lately made to * the Isle of Wight, during my Ihort stay at Newport, I was there informed, that some years since, having occasion to repair the pave

ment near the altar of their church, they found a stone-arch, upon opening of which, there appeared a coffin, with a plate bearing the following inscription : Elizabethstuakt.

3 R 2 The

488 Voltaire'/ Lttter to Mr. Elie de Beaumont. British

The person who gave me this ac- of grief, at about the age of four

count assured me this was the, corpse of princess Elizabeth, daughter of the Royal Martyr, Charles the First; that after that unfortunate Monarch's leaving the Ifle of Wight, slie was kept there for some yiars in disguise, and the better to conceal her, was actually put apprentice to a glover, and worked some time at that business, but died thro' excess

teen, and now lies without the least inscription to commemorate her noble allies. If any your readers can throw a further light on this affair, and will communicate it, or will be kind enough to mention a history which relates any particulars of this unfortunate Princess, this will much oblige their and your humble servant, ' W. B.

To the Authors of the British Macazine.


The following letter was written by the famous Voltaire to Mr. Elie de Beaumont, upon his publishing a justly admired Memoir, in favour of the widow and children of Calas. The generosity and courage of this advocate, who first, without any view of interest, took in hand the de• fence of that unfortunate family, shew t'^.ere are men in France to whom the magnanimity of a Demosthenes and a Cicero are no less known than their eloquence. Your's, Sec. D D.

To Mr. Elie de Beaumont, Advocate to the Parliament of Paris. S I R,

'T'ILL the present times there was but one voice heard in the desert, which cryed out, Prepare ye the •ways of the Lord. Your memorial is assuredly the work of a master. I know nothing that carries so much conviction along with it, nothing so touching. My indignation against the parliament of Thouloufe redoubles at it, and my tears have begun to stow anew.

I am persuaded that you will succeed so far as to cause a repeal of the edict of the parliament of Thouloufe. Your generous conduct is worthy your eloquence. This cruel affair, which will do you infinite ho

been left to the arbitrary opinion of the judges. It is very strange that the criminal ordinance of Louis XIV. has provided so little for the security of mens lives, and that we should be obliged to have recourse to the decrees of Charlemagne.

Your memorial will hereafter serve as a rule in cafes of this sort: fanaticism furnishes them sometimes. I have read your work thrice over, and I was as much touched at the third reading as at the first.

I add to the three impossibilities which you place in so strong light, a fourth, which is that of withstanding your reasons. I join my

nour, begins to be a proof to me of knowledgements to those which the what I have always thought, that Calafes owe you. I dare fay the our laws are very imperfect. Almost judges of Thouloufe think they owe every thing appears to me to have you as much. You have opened

Mag. Divining Instance es the

their eyes with respect to their errors. If I had the misfortune to be of their number, I should propose to them, on the reading only of your memorial, to ask pardon of the family whom they have undone, and to give them a pension, I hold them unworthy of their office if they take not this course.

The esteem you inspire me with,

Sagacity os an Elephant. 489 Sir, gives me almost a right to insist upon your friendship.

You have a lady * worthy of yourself. Accept of my respects both of you, and of all those sentiments with which 1 shall be, as long as I live, Castle osFerney, SIR,

nwr Geneva, Your humble, Sec.

Sept,22,ij6i. Voltaire.

* Madam de Beaumont, already reputably known by sundry pieces, as well in prose at in verse, has very lately published a work, which does equal honour to her heart and to her pen, entitled, Lttttn of the Marjuit tie Rofelie, in two parts, nmo. Paris, 1764.

A diverting Instance es the Sagacity es an Elephant.

milton'j Voyages.

From Captain Ha

"tXT'Hile capt. Hamilton was at *. Achen, the metropolis of the island of Sumatra, he observes, that he saw an elephant which had been kept there above one hundred years, but by report was then three hundred years old; he was about eleven feet high, and was remarkable for his extraordinary sagacity, as an instance of which he relates a comical piece of revenge he took on a taylor. In the year 1692, fays he, a ship called the Dorothy, commanded by capt. Thwaits, called at Achen for refreshments, and two English gentlemen in that city went aboard to furnish themselves wiih what European necessaries they had occasion for, and amongst other things, bought some Norwich stuffs for cloaths; and there being no English taylor to be had, they employed a Surat, who kept a shop in the great market-place, and had commonly six or ten workmen sewing in his shop. It was the elephant's custom to reach in his trunk at doors or windows as he passed along the fide of the street, as begging for the

decayed fruits and roots, which the inhabitants generally gave him.

One morning as he was going to the river to be walhed, with his rider on his back, he chanced to put his trunk in at this taylor's window, and the taylor, instead of giving him what he wanted, pricked him with his needle. The elephant seemed to take no notice of the affront: but went calmly on to the river, and was washed; after which he troubled the water with one of his fore-feet, and then sucked up a good quantity of the dirty water into his trunk, and palling unconcernedly along the fame side of the street where the taylor's shop was, he put in his trunk at the window, and blew his nose on the taylor with such a force and quantity of water, that the poor taylor and his journeymen were blown off the table they worked on, almost frightened out of their fenses ; but the English gentlemen had their cloarhs spoiled by the elephant's comical, but innocent revenge.


[ocr errors]

ELEGY tn a H o M M I N G - B i R D,

Wrote in a Fic-wer-Garden. 23ulla rosa fervia spina.

A Humming-Bird, by Nature led,

On Nature'* bounteous honey fed: In ev'ry flow's beheld a feast, And ev'ry sip her charms encreas'd. Her plumage, various, gaudy, blight, Surpass'd Aurora's radiant light; Tho' burnilh'd oler with golden rays, As drest in Ariosto's lays. Oh, had you seen her glowing breast, Which ev'ry tint by turns expresl, Succeeding tints the past renewing, You had wilh'd to be for ever viewing. But, sweet inconstant! she would sty From flow'r to flow'r, and foil the eye; Each motion giving something new, No sooner seen than vanish'd too. One morn, on murm'ring wing suspended, She to those well-known pinks descended; Here hung a moment, fiat the dew, And elsewhere, gaily wanton, flew. Her little crimson pinions play'd, At thro' th" enamcPd plain she stray'd: By ev'ry fragrant flow'r invited, Which to delight her seem'd delighted. I saw her, in an evil hour. Approach a deep-mouth'd trumpet flow'r; Within w hose fatal tube, all me! With mortal dagger, lurk'd a bee. Deceitful weed! for ever may ■ Your filthy flow'r avoid the day, Your nauseous odors taint the morn. Yourself the dire * Peruvian throne! May you, compell'd, pernicious bees! Supply your murm'ring hives from thefcj By day restrain your busy flight, Condemn'd to labour in the night. Within his breast, secure of harm, The seatlier'd Venus rais'd alarm, Enrag'd the little, jealous thing, And in her neck he plung'd his sting. Say, hast thou seen a courser start—• An arrow fly—the lightning dart? Far swifter, wrung with racing pain, The beauty cleft the airy plain; In vigor, like the taper's light, Which blazes fierce, and all is night.

• Thorny apple of Peru, called in Virginia The James-Town-Weed,

Her course unsteady, high and low,
Too well explain'd her inward woe;
Her strength decreasing, and hei speed,
Her feeble wings refusing aid.
Her tender frame with fevers hurn'd,
Her little brain to phrenzy turn'd:
The charm of nature, and the pride,
In many circles, funk and died.

Her purest nectar erst she drew From hence , here lie her beauties too; Where never flpw'r the wand'nngeye Hath since rejoie'd. (All bards will lie.} *' The ways of pleasure promise fair, "But mischief oft conceal'd lies ibere.

ROIIIT Sechillovi,

The C H A P L E T: <>ODE. By Mr. Alley. Occajimid by reading c tnfttt for the Ir.crtajt of Apiaritt; vritsa r} Sa James Caldwell, Bart. F. R. S.

A S lately o'er a lovely plain, ** Where Flora heilds her pleasingreijn, The rural muse did chance to stray,

She heard the goddess to her maids Thus speak : " Collect whate'er is gjy i

"Whate'er's most odorous, that braids "This fav'ritc spot, and yonder fai'rite

«' shades." On Zephyr's wings, they instant flew, Where Flora's fairest darlings grew. Some, from the wanton woodbine shade

Stole odour-freighted blossoms gay i Some took the virgin of the mead.

The prim rose diess'd in bride's array, The modest child of ever-pleasing May. Some cropp'd th' auricula, whose breast Was in deep-purpled velvet drtfs'd, Besprinkled o'er with golden flour;

And Iris, daughter of the iky, Sweet fav'rite of the shady bow'r,

Whose hue delights, and chears the epe, But, like the maiden'* bloom, fades p< scntly.

The beau ranunculus, whose face
The radiant scarlet blush did grace,
Was cut, with the anemony,

His spouse », that rove* the Ttmal r»Ti Most lovely flow'r, on which we sec,

Her pranks wild nature loves to play.

Her pranks most careless when most PI

• Alluding to Itelr appearance at ene s«foB


[merged small][ocr errors]

Sfime feia'd the fav'rite of the vales,
Whose breath reviving scents the gale;
And, as a contrast to her hue;

And, as a contrast to her sweet,
The rose emerging, that scarce knew

What 'twas three mornings funs to meet, They sweetly harmonizing set in view.

The flow'r was cull'd that lines the bow'rs*,

Where Flora sports the neon-tide hours,
Sweet as the chearing breath of morn,

Or aught <hat decks Elysian vales,
Where poets feign each bloom is born,

That never-cloying scents exhales, Perpetual to the ever fanning gales. Each nymph, unto her smiling queen, [Who, waiting, sat on throne of green) Her bloomy burden quickly brought — The blushful queen commands straightway

Of these, a chaplet to be wrought: "My sweetest blooms, my blooms most gay.

She cried, "A sav'rite's merit shall repay.

My gifts with ev'ry beauty grae'd,
Three sisters ever uncloy'd feast:
The Mght, with joyfulness, will tell
How pleas'd she views their various
And let the everraptur'd Smell [blooms;

Proclaim their wonderous perfumes, While Taste doth own their honey-stores excel.

Their stores, when by my lab'rers J wrought,
In value e'en surprises thought;
This Caldwell tells, to raise my fame,

And to enrich his native land;
For Caldwell, honest patriot name!

This bloomy chaplet I command,
Enwove by you, my darling rosy band I"

Thus, what the goddess did rehearse,
The muse records in humble verse;
And what her lovely maids piepar'd,

[All grateful) for the truest meed t
The muse enjoys her full reward,

As pleasure is to her decreed, [vey'd. When praise to worth can be by her con

Addkxss ro LAVINIA.

pxcitt ah urbe demur/, met tormina, ducitt Dafbntn. Vug.

"IN spire, my Muse^ in ev'ry Una
"* Let Love and Harmony combine.
Too well, O Love, I feel thy fire;
Then, Love, with Harmony conspire,

f The lily of the vale. • Jessamin.
\ The beef.

And in a blest alliance join
To make the fair Lavinia mine.
I have, 'tis true, no spacious mead,
Nor lawn, where flocks unnumber'd feed \
The produce of my weary slaves
Gives small oppression to the waves t
Yet I've a cot, a calm retreat,
Where would, with thee, dwell ev'ry sweet t
A garden fill'd with flow'rs; but where
No ftow'r can with thyself compare:
A terrace fresh with vernal show'rs;
But where no freshness equals yours:
A bower, whose thick-matted trees
Repel the fun, admit the brecre;
Whose foliages would, bending low.
Conceal the—bless me, ma'am, you know.
And, " like the sparrow and the dove,"
I have, my dear Lavinia, love.
Plutus gave at my birth a frown,
But Cupid mark'd me for his own;
And Honor gave a foul too great
To use th' imposture of a cheat.
Compar'd with thee, fair maid, I'm poor,
But of true passion none hat more.
Why have I, O ye pow'rs above!
A foul susceptible of love,
A haughty soul, that would disdain
To seel, for flender worth, a pain?
Or why did not the fates decree
That love should ever mutual be?
To thee a heart sincere I give;
Let me, fair maid, thine own receive:

And with such merit, with such charmit
For which the tender lover sighs,
Which he alone knows how to prize.

Transport thy faithful ——"s arms. Virginia, 1763. VAalGHANO.


T^Arewell the pompof Flora! vivid scene! Welcome sage Autuuin, to invert the year—

Farewell tosjmmer's eye-delighting gTeen!

Her verdure fades—autumnal blasts are The silky wardrobe now is laid aside, [near* With all the rich regalia of her pride.

And must we bid sweet Philomel adieu > She that was wont to charm ui in the grove?

Must nature's livery wear a sadder hue,

And a dark canopy be strett h'd above t Yes- -f jr September mounts his ebon throne, And the smooth foliage of the plain is uone_

Libra, to weigh the harvest's pearly stote, The golden ballance peizes now on high.

The calm sereni y of Zephyr o'er,

Sol's glittering legions to th* equator fly,

a At

« 前へ次へ »