It was at this period a young actress appeared on the French boards, of whom every one spoke in praise. She was gifted with a pleasing contour of countenance, without being a regular beauty, though she possessed so many pleasing qualifications as to entrap the heart of the young Magistrate. It was impossible an amour of this nature could long remain a secret; and when it reached the ears of his vir tuous lady, she was overwhelmed with grief, but, unlike the generality of her sex in her situation, she bore her lot with fortitude, and even concealed her chagrin from her father. Shut up from ber infancy within the walls of a convent, she had no opportunity of study loved husband." He was struck with astonishment; and on repeating some of her actions, as she had pourtrayed them on the stage, he beheld the angel the stranger in his own wife. He fell at her feet, and vowed eternal constancy; a vow which he never afterwards felt an inclination to forget, so well did she improve the victory she had gained. For the EUROPEAN MAGAZINE. 4 HUMOUROUS DESCRIPTION of MORTALITY, supposed to be written by DEAN SWIFT, in a LETTER to a FRIEND. SIR, S have been pleased very gene ing the graces. She forms a plan for the Arously to honour me with your acquirement of them, which, as love prompts, she executes. She goes to the theatre, sees her rival, divested of jea lousy, and attentively studies her manner, attitudes, and transitions of voice, person, and passion; and as her genius was great, so was her assiduity incre dible. Our At length, as she wished, so it fell out: the favourite actress was taken ill, and sent word she could not perform in the play that evening. young lady flies to the manager, offers her services to undertake the part, she is accepted, and it is announced “a Young Lady, a perfect stranger, will make her appearance as the substitute of Miss T, who is suddenly taken ill. All the world went to the theatre, and among them the person on whose account this adventure was hazarded. She dressed herself charmingly, played her part to admiration, and came off with great eclat. When the play was concluded, and her stage clothes taken off, she went into the parterre, and mixed among the audience, among whom was her husband, who expressed his wonder that she should make her taste so long a secret, and did not condemn a curiosity natural to her age. On their return home, the new actress was the subject of conversation; he expressed himself in raptures with her. "And pray," says she, my dear, which do you think plays the part best, the stranger, or Miss T ?" "Oh, there is no denying it," exclaimed he, 64 the stranger is an angel.' -"Behold then in me that stranger," said she, throwing her arms around his neck; "bebold what I have done to regain the lost affections of a much 66 * friendship, I think myself obliged to throw off all disguise, and discover to you my real circumstances; which I shall with all the openness and freedom imaginable. You'll be surprised at the beginning of my story, and think the whole a banter; but you may depend upon its being actually true; and, if need were, I could bring the parson of the parish to testify the same. You must know then, that at this present time I live in a little sorry house of clay, that stands upon the waste, as other cottages do; and, what is worst of all, an liable to be turned out at a minute's notice. It is a sort of copyhold tenure, and the custom of the manor is this for the first thirty years I am to pay no rent, but only do suit and service, and attend upon the courts, which are kept once a week, and sometimes oftener; for twenty years after this, I am to pay a rose+ every year; and further than this, during the remainder of life, I am to pay a tooth (which you'll say is a whimsical sort of acknowledgment) every two or three years, or oftener if it should be demanded; and if I have nothing more to pay, "Out" must be the word, and it will not be long ere my person will be seized. I might have had my tenement, such as it is, upon much better terms, if it had not been for a fault of my great great grandfather: he and his wife together, with the advice of an ill neighbour, were concerned in robHis body. + Divine service. The colour from his cheek. Adam and Eve. The Devil, 1 bing an orchard, belonging to the Lord of the Manor,† and forfeited this great privilege, to my sorrow I am sure; however, I must do as well as I can, and shall endeavour to keep my house in tolerable repair. My kitchen, where I dress my victuals, is a comical little roundish sort of a room, somewhat like an oven; it answers much to the purpose it was designed, and that is enough. gather our quit rents, before mentioned, is a queer, little, old, roundsbouldered fellow, with scarce any hair on his head; which grotesque figure, together with his invidious employment, makes him generally slighted, and oftentimes much abused. He bas a prodigious stomach of his own; whatever he gets, it goes all into his unrighteous maw, which makes a fool of the ostrich for digestion; he is continually exercising his grinders upon one thing or another, and yet he is as poor as a rake, and by that means goes so light, that he is often at a man's heels before he thinks of him; he is very absolute and ready in executing his commission, and has a relation, one Tide,*** a waterman, that is full as saucy and peremptory as himself: if you meet with either of them, and cry out, " Stop a little," the devil a moment they'll stay. My garrets (or rather cock-lofts) are very indifferently furnished; but they are rooms which few people regard now, unless to lay lumber in. The worst part of the story is, it costs me a great deal every year in thatchings;|| for, as my building stands pretty much exposed to the wind and weather, the covering, you know, must decay faster than ordinary; however, I make shift to rub on in my little way, and when rent day comes, I must see and dis. charge it as well as I can. Whenever I am turned out, my lodge, or what you For the EUROPEAN MAGAZINE. are pleased to call it, descends upon a low spirited creeping family,** reOn the USE and ABUSE of the TONGUE. markable for nothing but being in-eful members of the human body WHAT the tongue is one of the most strumental in advancing the reputa. tion of a great man in Abchurch Jane; but be this as it will, I have one snug apartment that lies on the left side of my house, which I reserve for my chiefest friends; it is very warm, where you will always be a welcome guest; and you may depend on a lodging as long as the edifice shall be in the tenure or occupation of J. S. P.S. This room that I value so much was set on fire once, and my whole building nearly demolished by an unlucky boy throwing a lighted torch in at the window, the casement being open. I must not forget to tell you, that the person¶¶ who is sent about to cannot be denied, though it is perfectly under the controul of its possessor. To it, we are indebted for all we hear in the pulpit, the bar, and the stage; though, from the mischievous effects it sometimes produces, we cannot help recommending the old adage, Fetter thy tongue, or thy tongue will fetter thee." How apt may the tongue of a young lady be compared to any musical instrument; as, when actuated by the virtues that inhabit the female breast, it can with its melody melt the most obdurate heart, and even bring tyrants under its sway; on the contrary, when set in motion by its opposite vices, how vile is its discord, no sounds can be more appalling. The one is the music of the seraphic angels, the other savours more of the sounds of the fallen. The tongue constitutes either the feli city or bane of mankind, according to its guidance; some only utter scandal, defamation, and abuse. Tongues belonging to heads void of sense, are sent into the world only for the vexation of mankind. Let us fetter such tongues by treating them with the contempt they merit. LANGUA. 1920.] Extracts from Letters, by Cowper, respecting John Gilpin. 17 To the Editor of the European Magazine. Swift's darling motto was, Vive la Bagatelle a good wish for a philo SIR, MR. HAYLEY, in his Life of Cow-sopher of bis complexion, the greater per the Poet, observes, that "the friends of Cowper, who had long delighted in his letters, have been gratified, in no common degree, by finding that their affectionate opinion of his epistolary excellence is honorably confirmed by the voice of the public. "The popular favour shewn to this work may be justly ascribed to that irresistible attraction which readers of every class have felt and acknowledged, in perusing the Letters of the departed poet-they breathe, like his verse, such a pure spirit of morality and religion, they are so enlivened by a simple and graceful display of the benevolent affections, that our country seems to have received them as a meritorious mother receives a legacy of honour from a dear distinguished son, when it appears to confirin, and to justify, all the fervent and proud tenderness of her parental feelings." I have often thought it wonderful, that Cowper, with so serious a cast of mind, should ever have composed such a humorous piece of poetry, as "John Gilpin was a Citizen : Of credit and renown ; A train-band Captain eke was he Of famous London town," &c. The following are extracts from letters which Cowper had written to some of his friends, relative to this subject :"You tell me, that John Gilpin made you laugh tears, and that the ladies at court are delighted with my poems. Much good may they do them! May they become as wise as the writer wishes them, and they will be much happier than be! As to the famous horseman above mentioned, he and his feats are an inexhaustible source of merriment. I little thought when I was writing the history of John Gilpin, that he would appear in print-I intended to laugh, and to make two or three others laugh-But now all the world laughs, at least if they have the same relish for a tale ridiculous in itself, and quaintly told, as we have.-Well-they do not always laugh so innocently, and at so small an expense-for in a world like this, abounding with subjects for satire, and with satirical wits to mark them, a laugh that hurts nobody has at least the grace of novelty to recommend it. Europ. Mag. Vol. LXXVIII, July1820. part of whose wisdom, whencesoever it came, most certainly came not from above. La begatelle has no euemy in me, though it has neither so warm a friend, nor so able a one, as it had in him-If1 trifle, and merely trifle, it is because I am reduced to it by necessity -a melancholy that nothing else so effectually disperses, engages me sometimes in the arduous task of being merry by force. And strange as it may seem, the most ludicrous lines I ever wrote have been written in the saddest mood, and but for that saddest mood, perhaps had never been written at all. I return you thanks for a letter so warm with intelligence of the celebrity of John Gilpin. I little thought, when I mounted him upou my Pegasus, that he would become so famous. I have learned also, from Mr. Newton, that he is equally renowned in Scotland, and that a lady there had undertaken to write a second part, on the subject of Mrs. Gilpin's return to London; but not succeeding in it as she wished, she dropped it. He tells me likewise, that the Head-Master of St. Paul's School (who he is I know not) has conceived, in consequence of the entertainment that John has afforded him, a vehement desire to write to meLet us hope that he will alter his mind; for should we even exchange civilities on the occasion, Tirocinium will spoil all. The great estimates, however, in which this Knight of the stone-bottles is held, may turn out a circumstance propitious to the volume, of which his history will make a part. Those events that prove the prelude to our greatest success are often apparently trivial in themselves, and such as seemed to promise nothing; the disappointment that Horace mentions is reversed - We design a mug, and it proves an hogshead. It is a little hard, that I alone should be unfurnished with a printed copy of this facetious story. When you visit London next, you must buy the most elegant impression of it, and bring it with you. You are entitled to my thanks also for the facetious engravings of John Gilpin.-A serious poem is like a swan, it flies heavily and never far, but a jest has the wings of a swallow, that never tire, and that carry it into every nook and corner." D 18 On the Study of Astronomy, as it affects the Belief in Revelation. [July I have writ Charity, not for popularity, but as well as I cou'd, in hopes to do good; and if the reviewer should say, "to be sure, the gentleman's muse wears Methodist shoes, you may know by her pace, and talk about grace, that she and her bard have little regard for the taste and fashions, and ruling passions, and hoydening play of the modern day; and though she assume a borrowed plume, and now and then wear a tittering air, 'tis only her plan to catch, if she can, the giddy and gay, as they go that way, by a production on a new construction: She has baited her trap, in hopes to snap all, that may come, with a sugar-plum."-His opinion in this will not be amiss; 'tis what I intend my principal end, and if I succeed, and folks should read, till a few are brought to a serious thought, I shall think I am paid, for all I have said, and all I have done, though I have run, many a time, after a rhyme, as far as from hence, to the end of my sense, and, by hook or crook, write another book, if I live and am here, another year. I have heard before of a room, with a floor laid upon springs, and such like things, with so much art, in every part, that when you went in, you was forced to begin a minuet pace, with an air and a grace, swimming about, now in, and now out, with a deal of state, in a figure of eight, without pipe or string, or any such thing; and now I have writ, in a rhyming fit, what will make you dance, and as you advance, will keep you still, though against your will, dancing away, alert and gay, till you come to an end of what I have penn'd; which that you may do, ere Madam and you are quite worn out, with jigging about, I take my leave; and here you receive a bow profound, down to the ground, from your humble meW. C. To the Editor of the European Magazine. SIR, ALLOW me to avail Magazine to give publicity to some remarks, in opposition to an opinion which is very generally maintained by a class of individuals; viz. that the study of astronomy is calculated to confirm the infidel in his untenable principles (untenable when opposed to reason and revelation), and to add converts to infidelity, by leading the mind to conclude, from the fact, that this world, when compared with the universe, is in proportion as a grain of sand to the solid contents of the globe; and that it is consequently too insignificant for the work of salvation ever to have been effected upon by the death of the Son of God. I consider the whole of our system is but as a speck in comparison with the universe, and that were it blotted out of creation, the nearest fixed star, and the inhabitants of its surrounding worlds, would scarce (perhaps not) perceive the change. Admitting, then, the minuteness of our world, I descend to its more minute inhabitant; and "Who art thou, man, that repliest against God?" Shall the creature call in question the deeds and designs of the Creator? His word has gone forth; it says, "Jesus Christ the Son of God died for sinners." It is imperative, and therefore would better become the creature to believe, than to dispute it; but we leave faith for the present, and meet those who maintain the proposition on their own ground; viz. reason. We must, 1st, consider the omnipotence of the Almighty, not only in creating worlds, and suns, and systems, innumerable, but we must contemplate the same power as we find it displayed in the minuteness of creation. It has been said, that a single blade of grass is sufficient to prove the being of a God; but if the opposers of the doctrine of redemption draw argument in support of their opinions from the grand and 1820.] On the Study of Astronomy, as it affects the Belief in Revelation. 19 vast in creation, we will oppose those opinions by argument drawn from very little things; we will look infinitely beyond the spire of grass, and conduct them to the inhabitants of a portion of water that might be balanced on its point. The powers of the microscope have opened to our vision a new world to wonder at; it shows us animalcula infinitely small, and, according to the calculations of the ingenious Lowenbook, so small, that ten thousand occupy a space no larger than one grain of sand these animalcula, it must be remembered, are perfectly formed, and capable of all the evolutions which an inhabitant of the watery element may be supposed capable they are sustained and supported in life by the same Omnipotent Power that formed the Galaxy and its unnumbered worlds. "So is the great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small and great; these wait all upon thee, that thou mayest give them their meat in due season." It is detracting from Omnipotence to say that it is not equally applicable to small and great things. 20, We must contemplate the perfections of the Almighty in as much as his love is equal to his power; and which is in constant exercise for the happiness of his creatures; which operates equally in supplying the neces sities of the minutest animalcula, and in maintaining and conducting the revolutions of the planets round the sun : whose love to man was such, that from all eternity he designed him capable of attaining everlasting happiness; he constituted him a free agent, and placed that happiness within his reach; and by constituting him immortal, he designed him to be as the angels in heaven. Is it then more wonderful, and passing belief, that he should design us for happiness, than that he should appoint the medium by which we should attain it? That he should create us immortal, than that he should point out the way to immortality and eternal life? That he should prepare a heavenly country, than that he should mark out the road? Is it not detracting from Omnipotent Love to say that the means are less worthy of its attention than the end? the effect, than the cause? It is love that dictates the means, 66 Believe, and you shall be saved!" The conclusions which reason (assisted by revelation) will naturally draw from these considerations, are the following: : 1st, That an Omnipotent Creator, whose love is equal to his power, will be constantly exercising those attributes in the support and happiness of his creatures. This conclusion brings into consideration another of the perfections of Deity; viz. his wisdom. It implies a knowledge of what constitutes the hap piness of differently-formed creatures, and consequently what constitutes the happiness of an immortal soul. 2d, That if the happiness of minute creation, which is only of ephemeral durability, occupies a place in his Eternal mind, of how much more importance will appear the greatest of his works? He who created the soul of man, "who breathed into him the breath of life," knew its value: reason. would charge a man with folly were he to give more than the worth of a commodity for its purchase; but shall the wisdom of the Eternal God be called in question when he gives his only Sou a ransom for a world of immortal souls, one of which is of more value (proved to be so by the immense price given for its redemption) than ten thousand suns and their attendant planets; because it is written the sun shall be blotted out; and the worth of an object is estimated in proportion to its comparative durability. 3d, That the planet upon which the soul's salvation was effected bears no proportion to its worth; it is a mere. theatre, on which immortal man is placed to pass a probationary state of existence; an existence which is inintended to allow the soul time to prepare for a better country; and to assimilate to the likeness of its Redeemer. 4th, That the study of astronomy, while it sinks the earth into compara tive insignificance, raises the worth of the soul as infinitely above our conceptions as the myriads of worlds which form but the pavement of the Creator's throne are beyond our ken. It remains, then, for the infidel reasoner to sink into the man, and for the man to siuk into the dust, and there to contemplate his own insignificance, instead of atraigning his Maker at the bar of his reason, and "the unerring counsels of Eternity" at his paltry tribunal: let him learn to say with Job, "Behold I am vile, I will lay mine hand upon my mouth." The light and knowledge with which |