to their gods.' It has been observed by respectable writers, that the English nation ought to imitate this example, and endeavour to induce her allies to abolish the human sacrifices of the Inquisition; and a censure has been passed on our government for its indifference to this subject. The indifference to the Inquisition is attributable, we believe, to the same cause which has produced an indifference to the religious principles which first organized the Inquisition. The mighty despot, who suppressed the Inquisition in Spai, was not swayed probably by very powerful motives of humanity; but viewed with jealousy a tribunat, which. usurped an independent dominion; and he put it down, on the same principle that he put down, the popedow, that he might remain pontiff and grand inquisitor himself. And so he will remain for a time, till the purposes of Providence shall have been ac complished by him. But are we to look an in silence, and to expeet that further meliorations in human society are to be effected by despotism, or by great revolutions? If, say the same writers, while the Inquisi tion is destroyed in Europe by the power of despotism, we could entertain the hope, and it is not toa much to entertain such a hope, that the power of liberty is about to destroy it in America; we might, even amid the gloom that: surrounds us, congratulate our fellow-creatures on ane of the most remarkable periods in the history of the progress of human society, the final erasure of the Inquisition from the face of the

earth.' It will indeed be an important and happy day to the earth, when this final erasure shall take place; but the period of such an event is nearer, we apprehend, in Europe and America, than it is in Asia; and its termination in Asia depends as much on Great Britain as on Portugal. And shall not Great Britain do her part to hasten this desirable time? Do we wait, as if to see whether the power of infidelity will abolish the other Inquisitions of the earth? Shall not we, in the mean while, attempt to do something, on Christian principles, for the honour of God and of humanity? Do we dread even to express a sentiment on the subject in our legislative assemblies, or to notice it in our treaties? It is surely our duty to declare our wishes, at least, for the abolition of these inhuman tribunals, (since we take an active part in promoting the welfare of other nations,) and to de liver our testimony against them in the presence of Europe.

This case is not unlike that of the immolation of females in Bengal: with this aggravation in regard to that atrocity, that the rite is perpe trated in our own territories. Our humanity in England revolts at the ocasional description of the enormity; but the matter comes not ta our own business and bosoms, and we fail even to insinuate our disap probation of the deed. It may be concluded, then, that while we re main silent and unmoved spectators of the flames of the widow's pile, there is no hope that we shall be justly affected by the reported hor→ rors of the Inquisition."

CLASSICAL

σε

"I

WAS much gratified, my dear Sir, with your letter, as your taste seems so exactly to agree with mine; and I am very glad, for your sake, that you have taken to Greek, as it will now be very easy to you, and if I may judge from myself, will be one of the greatest sources of amusement to you.-Homer and Ariosto have always been my favourites: there is something so delightful in their wonderful facility, and the apparent absence of all study, in their expression, which is almost peculiar to them. I think you must be very partial, however, to find but two faults in the twelve books of the Iliad. The passage in the ninth book, about Axiri, appears to me, as it does to you, both poor and forced; but I have no great objection to that about the wall in the twelfth, though, to be sure, it is not very necessary. The tenth book has always been a particular favourite with me, not so much on account of Diomede's and Ulysses' exploits, (though that part is excellent too) as on account of the be

ginning, which describes so forcibly the anxious state of the generals, with an enemy so near, and having had rather the worst of the former day. I do not know any description any where that sets the thing so clearly before one; and then the brotherly feelings of Agamemnon towards Menelaus, and the modesty and amiableness of Menelaus's character (whom Homer, by the way, seems to be particularly fond of) are very affecting. Ariosto has certainly taken his night expedition either from Homer's or from Virgil's Nisus and Euryalus. I scarcely know which I prefer of the three: 1 rather think Virgil's; but Ariosto has one merit beyond the others, from the important consequences which arise from it to the story. Tasso (for he, too, must have whatever is in the Iliad or Æneid) is a very poor imitation, as far as I recollect.

"I suppose, as soon as you have done the Iliad, you will read the Odyssey; which, though certainly not so fine a poem, is, to my taste, still pleasanter to read. Pray let me

know

know what parts of it strike you most, and believe me you cannot oblige me more than by corresponding on such subjects. Of the other Greek poets, Hesiod, Pindar, Eschy lus, Sophocles, Euripides, Apollonius Rhodius, and Theocritus, are the most worth reading. Of the tragedians, I like Euripides the best: but Sophocles is. I believe, more generally preferred, and is certainly more finished, and has fewer gross faults. Theocritus, in his way, is perfect-the two first Idylis, particularly, are excellent. I suppose the ode you like is Adwris à Kvonen, which is pretty enough, but not such as to give you any adequate idea of Theocritus. There is an elegy upon Adonis, by Bion, which is in parts very beautiful, and some lines of it upon the common place of Death, which have been imitated over and over again, but have never been equalled. In Hesiod, the account of Pandora, of the Golden Age, &c. and some other parts, are very good; but there is much that is tiresome. Perhaps the work, which is most generally considered as not his, I mean the Agris, is the one that has most poetry in it. It is very good, and to say that it is inferior to Homer's and Virgil's shields, is not saying much against it. Pindar is too often obscure, and sometimes much more spun out and wordy than suits my taste; but there are passages in him quite divine. I have not read above half his works. Apollonius Rhodius is, I think, very well worth reading. The beginning of Medea's love is, I believe, original and though often copied since, never equalled. There are many other fine parts in his poem, besides some of which Virgil has improved, others scarce equalled. There is, however, in the greater part of the poem an appearance of

labour, and a hardness, that makes it tiresome. He seems to me to be an author of about the same degree of genius with Tasso, and if there is more in the latter to be liked, there is nothing, I think, to be liked in him so well as the parts of Apollonius to which I have alluded. I have said nothing of Aristophanes, because I never read him. Callimachus and Moschus are worth reading; but there is little of them. By the way, I now recollect that the passage about death, which I said was in Bion's elegy upon Adonis, is in Moschus's upon Bion. Now you have all my knowlege about Greek poetry. I am quite pleased at your liking Ariosto so much; though indeed I foresaw you would, from the great delight you expressed at Spenser, who is certainly inferior to him, though very excellent too.-Tasso I think below both of them, but many count him the first among those three; and even Metastasio, who ought to be a better judge of Italian poetry than you or I, gives him, upon the whole, the preference to Ariosto.

"You will, of course, have been rejoiced at the peace, as we all are. Mrs. F. desires to be remembered to you kindly. She is very busy just now, but will write to you soon. I think this place has looked more beautiful than ever this year, both in Spring and Summer, and so it does now in Autumn. I have been very idle about my History, but I will make up for it by and by; though I believe I must go to Paris, to look at some papers there, before I can finish the first volume. I think in the last half of the Iliad you will admire the sixteenth, twentieth, twentysecond, and twenty-fourth books particularly. I believe the general opinion is, that Homer did write near the shore, and he certainly does,

as

as you observe, particularly delight in illustrations taken from the sea, waves, &c. Perhaps a lion is rather too frequent a simile with him. I dare say you were delighted with Helen and Priam on the walls in the third book; and I suspect you will be proportionably disgusted with Tasso's servile and ill-placed imitation of it. Do not imagine, however, that I am not sensible to many beauties in Tasso, especially the parts imitated by Spenser, Erminia's flight and adventure, the description of the pestilence, and many others. "I am, dear Sir, Most truly, Your's ever, C. J. Fox.

St. Anne's Hill, Monday. (Post Mark, Oct. 20, 1802.)

"MY DEAR SIR,

"I am quite scandalized at having so long delayed answering your letters, but I put it off, as I am apt to do every thing, from day to, till Christmas; and on that day, Mrs. F. was taken very seriously ill with a fever, and sore throat of the inflammatory kind.-The violence of the disorder was over this day se'n night, but though she has been mending ever since, she is still weak. However, she may now be called, comparatively speaking, quite well; and I did not like to write till I could tell you that she was so. I hope you go on with your Greek, and long to know whether you are as fond of the Odyssey as I am, as also what progress you have made in the other poets. The Plutarchus, whom you ask after, is, I believe, the same Plutarch who wrote the Lives, and who certainly was of Charonea. At least, I never heard of any other author of that name, and he wrote many philosophieal

works. I think when you say you despise Tasso, you go further than I can do,and though there is servility in his manner of imitation, which is disgusting, yet it is hardly fair to be angry with him, for translating a simile of Homer's, a plunder (if it be one) of which nearly every poet has been guilty. If there be one who has not, I suspect it is he whom you say you are going to read, I mean Dante. I have only read part of Dante, and admire him very much. I think the brilliant passages are thicker set in his works than in those of almost any other poet; but the want of connection and interest makes him heavy; and, besides the difficulty of his language, which I do not think much of, the obscurity of that part of history to which he refers, is much against him. His allusions, in which he deals not a little, are, in consequence, most of them lost.

"I agree in liking Armida, but cannot help thinking Rinaldo's detention in his gardens very inferior to Ruggiero's.

Or fino agli occhi ben nuota nel golfo Delle delizie e delle cose belle, may seem to some an expression rather too familiar, and nearly foolish; but it is much better for describing the sort of situation in which the two heroes are supposed to be, than the Romito Amante of Tasso; not to mention the garden of Armida being all on the inside of the palace, and walled round by it, instead of the beautiful country described by Ariosto. Do you not think, too, that Spenser has much improved upon Tasso, by giving the song in praise of pleasure to a nymph rather than to a parrot? Pray, if you want any information about Greek poets or others, that I can give you, do not spare me, for it is a great de

Mght to me to be employed upon such subjects, with one who has a true relish for them.

"I do not wonder at your passionate admiration of the Iliad, and agree with you as to the peculiar beauty of most of the parts you mention. The interview of Priam and Achilles is, I think, the finest of all. I rather think that in Andromache's first lamentation, she dwells too much upon her child, and too little upon Hector, but may be I am wrong. But your referring to the fourth book only for Agamemnon's brotherly kindness, I should almost suspect that you had not sufficiently noticed the extreme delicacy and kindness with which he speaks of him in the tenth, v. 120, &c.

1

"We have not at all fixed our time for going to Paris yet. Mrs. F. desires to be most kindly remembered to you.

"I am very truly,

My dear Sir, your's ever, C. J. Fox. P. S. I do not know which is the best translation of Don Quixote; I have only read Jarvis's, which I think very indifferent. I liked Feijoo very much when I read him, but I have not his works.

difference between French and English manners, in casual acquaintance, very great; and I doubt much, whether we have great superiority in more intimate connections, to compensate our inferiority in this respect; you remember, no doubt, Cowper's character of us in the Task; it is excellent.

"I do not think we have seen any thing worth mentioning since you went, or rather since Mrs. F. wrote to you after her presentation; only we were one day at Rainey, formerly the Duke of Orleans's, which, though in a state of neglect, is still very beautiful. We have seen Madame Duchesnois again, in Roxane, in Bajazet, and either the part suited her better than the others, or she is very much improved. My work is finished, and we stay now only in expectation of my brother, who writes word that he will be here the 2d of November; we shall, of course, stay some days with him, and set out, I think, the 7th. I have made visits to your friends the consuls, and dined with Le Brun; he seems heavy, but if he is the author, as they say he is, of the Chancellor Maupeoux's addresses to the parliament at the end of Louis XVIth's reign, it must be his situation that has stupified him, for they are very good indeed. As you had a curiosity about an over-turn, it is very well it was satisfied at so cheap a rate. We shall be very glad to hear that your mode of travelling has been attended with no worse consequences.

"I suppose you will now go in earnest to law. I do not know much of the matter, but I suspect that a regular attendance (and with attention) to the courts, is still more important than any reading whatever; you, of course, read Blackstone over and over again; and if so, pray tell me whether you agree with

me