Wag. O/r tit Diversity es Taj.

thoughts and turgid expressions of the former are a complete contrail to the unadorned simplicity of the biter. Terence excelled all other Latin poets in a beautiful simplicity; bat Terence was not an original authorz he only translated the Greek comedies of Menander into verse.

The French taste in works of genius seems to bear a strong resemblance to that of the antient Greeks. In the paintings of the great masters of the French school, there is a simple uniformity of design, which is admirable; but their colouring docs not approach the glowing variety of the Italians. Poussin, le Brun, and le Sicur, have been all deficient in their colouring. The French mu- . fic may give us some idea of that of the Greeks; there is not much variety in it, and they have scarce excelled in any sort of airs, except minuets: many of the French minuets are admirable; but in this spe. cies of music the fame notes recur eftener than in any other. Every body that is acquainted with the Greek and the French poetry, must be struck with the resemblance of their taste in that branch of literature. An English or Italian poet may be compared to a painter who presents to the mind's eye the variegated landscapes of nature; a Greek 0r a French poet may be properly compared to an architect who strikes it with the view of a noble frontispiece, which fills the whole capacity of the foul with one great and sublime idea. The French historians and philosophers are both more remarkable for loquacity than solidity.

As they resemble in their taste in' literature, they have likewise a strong resemblance in their faces, tempsrs, and. national character. The modern Greeks, though change of cir.

in Jijstrlitt Nathnj. C j

cumstances prevents them from shining in arts and sciences like their renowned forefathers, most certainly resemble them in their features; and those that have seen both nations acknowledge, that the present Greeks have in feature a strong resemblance to the French. In mirth and levity of temper they are the same ; and the third satire of Juvenal sliews, that the Greeks in his time were in the Roman empire exactly what the French are now in Europe. He speaks of their enterprising genius, and their attempting to excel in every thing, in these terms:

Omnia fac::i
Graculus ajuritns, in calum juJJ'cris Mt,

Thus imitated by Mr. Johnson;

All things to do a starving Frenclimnn knows,

And bid him go to hell, to hell he goaf.

The taste both of the Italians and English frems to be formed upon that of the antient Romans. The Romans surpassed the Greeks in variety of topicks, and exuberance of fancy, and the Englisli and Italians have the fame advantage over the French, though they are inferior to them in correctness, elegance, and simplicity of design. The Roman historians are unequalled, the Italians make the nearest approach to their excellence; but it is only an approach. They have composed admirable treatises upon the theory of politics; but the English have outflione them and all mankind as philosophers. The great Galileo first discovered the true astronomical system, and Torricclli the pressure of the air; but Newton brought nature and her laws to light, and his reputation has eclipsed that of all other philosophers, as the rising sun efraecs the feeble lustre of the stars.

K * Tlip 6^ she Pursuit es Pleasure

The English, as they have surpassed the French and Italians in philosophy, have likev-ise surpassed them in poetry, France can boast but one first-rate poetical genius, Cotneille; and Italy but one first-rate poetical genius, Tasso: but England can boast a Milton, and a Pope, and a Shakespear, who as far outshines all ether poets as Newton outshines other philosophers. Envy itself must own, that the world never produced more than one Newton and one Shakespear; the former explained all nature's laws, in the material



world, and the latter with a penetrating genius, dived into the inmost recesses of the human heart.

It must, however, be acknowledged, that, though the English have surpassed their neighbours as poets and philosophers, the French ancl Italians have both surpassed them in history: but this seems to be entirely owing to the genius of the English language, which as Mr. Gordon justly observes, is less adapted to history than either the French or Italian.

7he Pursuit os Pleasure. A VISION.

HAppening a few days since to go to the representation of a play, which I had before always seen ■with as much pleasure as if it had been entirely new to me; 1 was greatly surprised and disappointed to find, that, though the piece was the fame, and the performers acquitted themselves as usual, I beheld that ■with languor and indifference which could once exhileratc my spirits ■when depressed, and exalt chearfuljiefs up to joy.

Having fat out the play with the most listless inattention, I returned to my lodgings in that disagreeable itateof mind in which a man is displeased with himself, and vvith every thing else, wjthout being able to assign the reason why. Upon entering my apartment I seated myself in my elbow-chair, with all the indifference of indolence, and took up a book, without the least expectation of being amused by it, for I was incapable of attention, and unsusceptible of delight. I had not, however, gone through many pages of my author, the inimitable Cervantes, when

I found the truth of St. E^vremond's observation, that the celebrated romance of Don Quixote contains -a refined vein of humour, which is capable of dissipating the gloom of anxiety, and making joy succeed to despondence. I read so long that sleep crept upon me unawares; nor could the powerful charms of Cer■vantes' wit and picturesque genius prevent the drowsy god from taking possession of my senses, whilst my nodding reason was busied with reflections upon the precarious nature of pleasure, which sometimes escapes us when we think ourselves surest of it, and sometimes is nearest us when we think it most at a distance: at length, however, the power of reason was totally enchained, and imagination presented to my soul the following visionary scene.

I thought myself upon a large expanse of water, like the lake of Geneva, in a sort of bnrge, which in form resembled a Venetian gondola;, a considerable number of barges, that were painted with gorgeous colours and figures, which displayed


% Tht Pursuit os Pleasure. ^VISION. 6$

ix onconfined wantonness of ima- be the first, or at least not to be the psrions, failed to and fro in the last, rather impeded and obstructed lake: and, as I could not find that the landing of all, than proved of rinbad any particular place of de- any real advantage to the few who Ration, I concluded that those on could succeed in the attempt. Thus Mnl them were only pleasuring, man's eagerness to grasp at pleasure srithat they had nothing further often makes him miss of his aim, i'nrw than to contemplate the pro- and always rather retards than accearound them, and inhale the lerates his enjoyments. The effort ttfcbrious refreshment of the Elysian made by the mind to secure the ob|Ji. Whilst the passengers in the jest of its desire so exhausts the enerfctral barges thus amused them- gy of the faculties, that the object lti?es by rowing up and down upon itself, when possessed, falls short of tfct lake, they were, all on a sudden, the idea it had excited, and pleasure feprised with the sight of a phæno- appears most beautiful to the mind's aanon, which filled them with fur- eye when, like a picture, in which prize and admiration: they saw an the imagination of the artist has fend spring out of the lake, whose been exerted so successfully, as even ferdant plains and groves, blooming to conceal his art, it is ever in its *i;h eternal spring, recalled to their just point of light, and at a proper rraKmbrance the gardens of the He- .distance. No sooner had we enterfptrides, and the delightful vallies of ed the island, but our minds were Tempe, so much celebrated by the almost intoxicated with joy, and we potts of antiquity. As we approach- rambled about in separate parties, td it, our senses were cheared with or by ourselves, without the direcodouis, sweet as those by which ma- tion of reason, the information of riners perceive that the islands of knowledge, or the admonition of Ternate and Tydore are near; prudence, in the mad and fruitless orange groves, vineyards, gardens pursuit of pleasure, whose trees were loaded with fruit I perceived that most of those who of such various kinds, that their joined in a particular party of plearrjrobers surprised the beholder, sure were, notwithstanding their san■hilst the bright glow of their varie- guine hopes and flattering prospects, gi'ed hues dazzled his eyes, and at last entangled by inconveniencies, mde his heated imaginatian add and harassed by unceasing perplexne» lustre to the smiles of nature, ity, and this made me form a resoThe fight of this abode of delights liition to run my race for the prize petted us all to steer our course to of pleasure alone; unawed by the », with the utmost expedition ; so preheminence of superiors, unruffled tl«t, when our barges approached by the solicitations of inferiors, and tils shore, we rowed like the mari- undisturbed by the intrusion ■ of Etrsdeseribed by Virgil, in the fifth equals. I had not, however, profit of his Æneid, in which he has ceeded far, when, all on a sudden, P'tn so beautiful and picturesque the azure of the sky, which before * description of the games exhibited enchanted the fight with the beauÆneas in honour of his father's ties of Elysium, was overcast and obirtmory. We rowed with a spirit of scured, and thedarkness of an eclipse JoaiiarioDj and the eager desire to succeeded tothe glare of a day, whose 66 CempenJioui U!si*ry esTrance: Br'alsV

splendour dazzled the eyes, and whose quire of one whose face I remem heat threw the body into a fever of bered, whether he knew what par

delight. The gloom of despair sue- of the island we were in, when al

cceded to the presumption of over- on a sudden day appeared agaii

weening hope, and I lay down upon with all its former brightness, am

the ground with all the bitterness of we all found ourselves seated rouni

languor, and all the dejection of the fountain of pleasure. Our wan

despondence. Having remained for dering and fatigues had made us a!

some time in this deplorable slate of equally thirsty, and there was nov

niind, I was all on a sudden roused as great crowding to take the firi

by a flash of light, which darted draught as there was before to b

from heaven like a meteor, and de- the first who landed. I drank of th

scenditig towards the earth, waved • fountain myself, being so parchei

and gliitered in the air like a phos- with thirst, and so worn with fa

j/horus. As it appeared to be at no tigue, that I could give no attentioi

£uat distance, I exerted myself to to the effects which its waters ha<

lhe utmost to come near it, thinking upon others. But no sooner had

that it might direct me in my pur- drank than I found my head giddy

suit, and supply the absence of the and my whole frame so much disor

day. I found, however, that, not- dired, that 1 tumbled and tossed t.

withstanding all my speed, it con- such a degree, that I soon awoke

tinned still at a distance, and some- and was very glad to find that m

times, when I was quite spent with disorder was not real, but merel

fatigue, it disappeared, like an ignis the effects of disturbed repose. Th

fuiuus, and left me to grope in the first object that I cast my eye upo;

dark. But it soon blazed forth was Cervantes' Don Quixote, whic

sgain, and I was glad to follow this immediately suggested to my mir.

delusive light'rather than repine in that every man who goes in quei

darkness, or lie down in despair, of pleasure is as void of reason a

Having followed it for a long time, that whimsical knight; that its pui

overwhelmed with constant fatigue suit is attended with danger, an

nnd disappointed by its frequent dis- ends in disgustj and that the onl

appearing, it at length brought me way to secure solid satisfaction is t

to a part of the ifland where I saw regulate our conduct by prudeno

a crowd of the same persons who without aspiring to high and cxc^ii

had landed with me ; I sat down site enjoyments, with them, and was going to in

Compendious Historyof FRANCE. {Continued

THE king afterwards had some lest the count and duke, who h;

disputes with Geoffrey Mar- great animosity against each othe

tel, count of Anjou, in which the to fight it out. This was chiei

duke of Normandy took part on his owing to a spirit of envy in that m

behalf: but Henry quickly compro- narch, to the insinuations of son

tr.iscd his share of the quarrel, and of his ministers, or to the spirit

Jfcj- CompenJltui History of Francs. 07

pdkj which prevailed in those times, perpetual quarrels between the

js<i »hich induced Henry to grow •nkss of the increasing power of tbejoung duke. When, therefore, Hi troubles broke out, and Wilizsde Arques, count deThoulouse, rio Vis the son of Richard 11. by li'cond wife, set up his title to the itedom, in which he was poweris!!} supported by his brother Mauls-, archbishop of Rouen, ihe king ts-oared the malecontents at first rrivately, and at lentgh invaded \'orm»ndy in their favour, and in irder to raise the siege of the castle cf d'Arques; in which enterprize Mt forces received a very severe check, and the duke triumphed over ibtst, as he had done over his former enemies.- A peace followed, Wt tio sincere reconciliation, for feting retained a deep fense of the Cfctedit he met with; and, on the ether hand, the duke never forgave 'heassistance which Henry had given to those who would have dispossessed him of his dominions. In purstance, therefore, of his old scheme, the king united himself with Geoffaj Mattel j and having formed •■9 armies, one commanded by himself in person, and the other by his brother Eudes, whom he had released out of prison, he once more imded Normandy, but with the fame ill fortune that had attended ^ n his former enterprize ; since I0. ' his own army was harrassed and beaten by repeated disadvantages, and that of his brother totally defeated at Mortemer in the ^ideCaux, which constrained him 10 make peace upon such ternis as *ereagreeable to the duke: but the "ncour between them never ceased, lni was in reality the latent cause TM'l»t implacable aversion, which, **teng series of years, produced

kings of France and the Norman princes, when possessed of the realm of England. A rancour equally fatal to both realms.

The king, finding his health decay, though he was far from being old, judged it expedient to provide as well for the security of the kingdom, as for that of his family. He had married a second time a princess of Russia, by whom he had three sons; and-the eldest of these, Philip, then about seven years of age, was> by the consent of the whole assembly, crowned by the archbishop of Rheims, on the feast of Whitsunday, with much solemnity, for many great lords assisted there in person, and others by their deputies; but there is nothing clearer than that as yet the twelve peers of France did not exist. There is still remaining a copy of the oath, taken by the ycung monarch, which is but shorr, and of which three-fourths regards the clergy, their privileges and immunities; at the close he promises the people, that he will employ the authority conferred upon him to the maintenance of the laws. At the fame time the king declared Baldwin, earl of Flanders, tutor and guardian to the young king, in case he should die before he came of age: and this was a wise and well-timed precaution; for on the fourth of April following he departed this life; some writers fay by taking a dose of physic, and drinking after it, contrary to the express direction of his physician; but others seem to think that the physician was not altogether innocent, but that, under the name of a medicine, he adiru-' nistered poison. He deceased in the fifty-sixth yearofhis age, and in the thirtieth of his reign^ In his time


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