S. Della Rocca finished by concluding, both from his experience and observations, that man was an animal very difficult to please; who, in the midst of real bless ings, was always occupied about some imaginary good. Giacoo, judging by the spectacle be fore him how ridiculous he must himself have appeared at the time he was so continually censuring every thing around him, corrected himself of his follies; and thus the discontent of others has effec tually cured his own. J. D. MUSSET-PATHAY, CHARACTER OF ROUSSEAU. Mr. ROUSSEAU has been too often extolled as a philanthropist. Burke said of him, that he loved his kind and hated his kindred. The exposure of his children, by whatever sophistry it may be excused, is an indelible blot on his humanity; and invalidates all his pretensions to philanthropy. For, can that philanthropy be genuine, which is founded on the extinction of the parental affections; and which,with more than savage brutality, forsakes the poor innocents it brings into the world? Every page of Rousseau glows with the captivations of that sentimental luxury, of which he is so great a master; and which he arrays in all the blandishments of eloquence. Hence the source of that admiration, which his writings have so universally excited. Though his judgment, as a philosopher, was not profound; yet his tase was so exquisite, that he strews flowers in the most rugged way, and interests the passions and the fancy, in the investigation of the most abstract propositions. This is his great excellence. In his new Eloise, the interest consists, not so much in the diversity or the combination of the incidents, as in the beauty of the sentiment, and the magick of the diction. The picture of Julia is highly finished; but it leaves on the mind more impressions of re From Fellowes's Chriftian Philofophy. spect than of tenderness, of admir ation than of love-At times she appears an heterogeneous mixture of apathy and passion, of prudence and of coquetry. In some situa. tions she wants tenderness, in others firmness; and she is often less governed by the warm impulses of affection, than by the abstractions of philosophy. His Emilius, though marked by the illuminating touches and the original conceptions of genius, yet, considered as a system, is more conspicuous for its singularity than its truth. It pourtrays a system of education, which, if it were universally adopted, would keep the human species in a state of permanency between light and darkness, between savage barbarity and civilized refinement. It would counteract the moral and physical improvement of man, the progress of knowledge, and the productiveness of industry. Though Rousseau had little beneficence, yet his writings, breathing nothing but the reciprocal love and kindness and confidence of the Golden Age, contributed, by their wide diffusion and their enchanting eloquence,to render humanity fashionable; and they have, at least, this merit,that no man can well. rise from reading them, without feeling a higher respect for his species. That extreme and febrile sen PARR'S CHARACTER OF DR. JORTIN. sibility, which was the characteris- The language of Rousseau was in the contemplation of which, the OF As to Jortin, whether I look back to his verse,to his prose,to his critical or to his theological works,there are few authors to whom I am so much indebted for rational entertainment or for solid instruction. Learned he was, without pedantry. He was ingenious, without the affectation of singularity. He was a lover of truth, without hovering over the gloomy abyss of skepticism, and a friend to free-inquiry, with out roving into the dreary and pathless wilds of latitudinarianism. He had a heart which never dis graced the powers of his under standing. With a lively imagination, an elegant taste, and a judg ment most masculine and most correct, he united the artless and amiable negligence of a schoolboy. Wit without ill nature, and sense without effort, he could, at will, scatter upon every subject; and in every book, the writer presents us with a near and distinct view of the real man. His style, though inartificial, is sometimes elevated: though familiar, it is never mean; and tho employed upon various topicks of theology, ethicks, and criticism, it is not arrayed in any delusive reremblance, either of solemnity, from fanatical cant,...of profoundness, from scholastick jargon,...of precision, from the crabbed for malities of cloudy philologists,...or of refinement, from the technical babble of frivolous connoisseurs. At the shadowy and fleeting reputation, which is sometimes gain ed by the petty frolicks of literary vanity, or the mischievous struggles of controversial rage, Jortin never grasped. Truth,which some men are ambitious of seizing by surprize in the trackless and dark recess, he was content to overtake in the broad and beaten path: And in the pursuit of it, if he does not excite our astonishment by the rapidity of his strides, he, at least, secures our confidence by the firm ness of his step. To the examination of positions advanced by other men, he always brought a mind, which neither prepossession had seduced, nor malevolence polluted. He imposed not his own conjec tures as infallible and irresistible truths, nor endeavoured to give an air of importance to trifles, by dogmatical vehemence. He could support his more serious opinions, without the versatility of a sophist, the fierceness of a disputant, or the impertinence of a buffoon..... more than this....he could relinquish or correct them with the calm and steady dignity of a writer, who, while he yielded something to the arguments of his antagonists, was conscious of retaining enough to command their respect. He had too much discernment to confound difference of opinion with malignity or dulness, and too much candour to insult, where he could not persuade. Though his sensibilities were neither coarse nor slug gish, he yet was exempt from those fickle humours, those rankling jealousies, and that restless waywardness, which men of the brightest talents are too prone to indulge. He carried with him, into every station in which he was placed, and every subject which he explored, a solid greatness of soul, which could spare an infe riour, though in the offensive form of an adversary, and endure an equal with, or without, the sacred name of friend. The importance of commendation, as well to him who bestows, as to him who claims it, he estimated not only with justice, but with delicacy, and therefore he neither wantonly lavished it, nor withheld it austerely. But invective he neither provoked nor feared; and, as to the severities of contempt, he reserved them for occasions where alone they could be employed with propriety, and where, by himself, they always were employed with effect....for the chastisement of arrogant dunces, of censorious sciolists, of intolerant bigots in every sect, and unprincipled impostors in every profession. Distinguished in various forms of literary composition, engaged in various duties of his ecclesiastical profession, and blessed with a long and honourable life, he nobly exemplified that rare and illustrious virtue of charity, which Leland, in his reply to the letter-writer, thus eloquently describes. "CHARITY never misrepresents; never ascribes obnoxious principles or mistaken opinions to an opponent, which he himself disavows; is not so earnest in refuting, as to fancy positions never asserted, and to extend its censure to opinions, which will perhaps be delivered. Charity is utterly averse to sneering, the most despicable species of ridicule, that most despicable subterfuge of an impotent objector. Charity never supposes, that all sense and knowledge are confined to a particular circle, to a district, or to a country: Charity never condemns and embraces principles in the same breath; never professes to confute, what it acknowledges to be just, never presumes to bear down an adversary with confident assertions; charity does not call dissent insolence, or the want of im plicit submission a want of common respect." The esteem, the affection, the reverence which I feel for so profound a scholar, and so honest a man, as Dr. Jortin, make me wholly indifferent to the praise and censure of those, who vilify, without reading, his writings, or read them, without finding some incentive to study, some proficiency in knowledge, or some improvement in virtue. POETRY. For the Anthology. VERSES ON SPRING.. AGAIN the strength of Winter fails, Returning Spring with timid eye, Again, amid the darkening grove, Is heard the vernal voice of joy, Again the magick powers of love Their softly winning arts employ. With merry heart, and cheerful song To count what future harvests yield. Th' impatient sailor leaves the shore, Yes, spring returns; but wanting now H******, April 11, 1806. Androns MOPTON Vol. III. No. 4. 2A DEATH AND DAPHNE. To an agreeable young lady, but extremely lean. By Swift. DEATH went upon a solemn day And, vext to see affairs miscarry, A consult of coquettes below Was call'd, to rig him out a beau : From her own head Megæra takes A periwig of twisted snakes ; Which in the nicest fashion curl'd (Like toupets of this upper world), With flour of sulphur powder'd well, That graceful on his shoulders fell An adder of the sable kind In line direct hung down behind; The owl, the raven, and the bat, Clubb'd for a feather to his hat ¡ His coat, an usurer's velvet pall, Thus furnished out, he sent his train To take a house in Warwick-lane: The faculty," his humble friends, A complimental message sends : Their president in scarlet gown Harangu'd, and welcom'd him to town. But Death had business to dispatch His mind was running on his match, And, hearing much of Daphne's fame, His majesty of terrors" came, Fine as a colonel of the guards, To visit where she sate at cards: She, as he came into the room, Thought him Adonis in his bloom. And now her heart with pleasure jumps; She scarce remembers what is trumps; For such a shape of skin and bone Was never seen, except her own: Charm'd with his eyes, and chin, and snout, Her pocket-glass drew slily out; And grew enamour'd with her phiz, As just the counterpart of his. She darted many a private glance, Nothing she thought could sooner gain him, The sweetest place for masquerades :- What pride a female heart inflames ! Thy hand as dry and cold as lead, His matrimonial spirit fled; For the Anthology. VERSION OF THE 8TH CHAPTER OF SOLOMON'S SONG. OH that thou wert like him who drew Home I'd persuade thee to return, With me domeftick bliss to prove, Where from my mother I would learn Te keep thee, all the lore of love. Thy lip should rich delicions wine, And thy right arm enfold my waist. When such a heaven of bliss we share, Should sleep exhausted nature seize, Maids of Jerusalem, forbear 'To wake my love until he please. What stranger from the wilderness Comes leaning on her love? the maid> Whom once I rais'd with chaste caress Beneath the citron's spreading shade. Within that consecrated grove Thy parent first embrac'd her child, There first the pledge of virtuous love Gaz'd on her mother's face and smil'd. Set me a signet on thine arm, And on thy heart my image lay, The spell would drive, with potent charm,The fiend of Jealousy away. The cruel fiend, greedy as death, No art can soothe, no flattery tame; Whose eyes are burning coals, whose breath A scorching, all devouring flame. Love ever clear and constant burns, No floods can quench his heavenly light; No wealth corrupt him, for he spurns The sordid mifcreant from his sight. Our little sister sweet and fair, Her bosom like the infant rofe, Waits till the gentle vernal air Swell the soft buds, and they unclofe. Andrews NORTON EPIGRAM. CHLOE. Chloe new-marry'd looks on men no more; Why then it's plain for what she look'd before. WALSH |
