I wanted to inspire a female with generous sentiments and a useful emulation, I should put these two pieces in her hands, rather than any other with which I am acquainted.

ple in love; but, at the same time, let them unfold the emotions that preceded, and the causes that produced, the passion, and, afterward, trace it through all its consequences.

For the Literary Magazine.

OMNIPOTENCE OF LOVE.

FEW doctrines have perpetrated more lasting and extensive mischief, than that love is omnipotent, and that licentiousness is justified by the consideration that it was irresistible. While the mind is under certain mistakes, we must grant that certain consequences necessarily follow; and in that sense love is irresistible but the principal of those mistakes is, that the party in love should suppose love to be unconquerable. The examples that other passions are, in certain individuals, stronger than love, are infinite; consequently, the supposition of its omnipotence is absurd. These remarks apply too much to the numerous class of books called novels; and we suspect that the mischief, which, according to some moralists, has been done by novels, originates in this error: it is an error that has been adopted by successive novel writers, because, not knowing how to unfold the emotions of the mind, and to give reasons for incidents which, though true, were uncommon, they could imagine no better expedient than that of resorting to the omnipotence of love. Those people, who are willing to indulge irregular desires, have very readily credited this doctrine, and the force of love is now a part of the creed of almost every master and miss in the reading world.

Novel writing has often been, and will, no doubt, again be, the source of great moral benefit to mankind: it is therefore peculiarly incumbent on novel writers to discard this prejudice from their productions. Let them, if they please, show us peo

For the Literary Magazine.

A SPECIMEN OF POLITICAL IMPROVEMENT.

Continued from page 128.

EVERY district in Great Britain, of any considerable extent, contains at least the vestiges of an ancient castle and abbey. The ruinous condition of these edifices is more owing to the neglect and violence of men, than to the frailty of their structure or materials. The ferocious avarice and barbarous tyranny of Henry VIII, in England, and the wild fury of a fanatical populace, in Scotland, were the causes of the destruction of abbeys; while the change of manners, which rendered a fortress no longer necessary to personal safety, has occasioned the ruin of castles. In some few instances the abbey, though with a multitude of alterations, has become a private dwelling, and the castle, rendered sacred by the images of ancient grandeur and power, has, at an immense expence, been converted to the same use. In general, however, both are reduced to their foundations, and are cherished merely as mementos of past ages.

C is not a little singular in this respect. It has a castle and an abbey, but they can, in no sense of that word, be termed antiquities. They were erected by Alexander M, lord of C, in the course of the fifteenth century. The motives and character of the builder were somewhat remarkable, and deserve a more particular mention.

When he came to his estate he found the ancient abbey in a tottering condition. The castle was likewise sinking with age, but, in both cases, their crumbling state

was owing to an injudicious choice of materials, and mode of construction, as well as to age. They were founded in the eleventh century, by a Saxon thane, who, driven from the southern part of the island, by the Norman invader, took refuge in C-, and, by marrying the daughter and heiress of the native lord, became possessed, in due time, of the sovereignty. His abbey afforded an asylum to a colony of fugitive monks from Lancashire, and his castle protected his family and people from the inroads of neighbouring clans.

His descendant, Alexander, lived in an age when all the arts had made a considerable progress. He had spent his youth in France and Italy, and brought home with him ideas of accommodation and embellishment far superior to any before current among his countrymen. He had imbibed some very aspiring notions of his own dignity, and was determined to erect his lordship into a principality wholly independent and self-governed. He easily wrested from James II, who then reigned, almost all the royal prerogatives and superiorities relative to this district, and proposed to signalize his piety, as well as strengthen his power, by erecting a new abbey and a new castle. Both of these he was ambitious of making more solid, durable, capacious, and more suitable to their respective purposes than any buildings of either kind that

then existed.

It was this lord who first discovered that valuable material, since brought so much into use by sir A. It is a white freestone, very ponderous, but in the quarry, and while inaccessible to air, almost as easily wrought as chalk. With time and exposure to the atmosphere it acquires extreme hardness. Hence it is easy to shape it into the largest and smallest, the simplest and most complex figures. These admirable properties fit it, in the highest degree, for great and magnificent buildings.

Italy at that time abounded with artists capable of giving, to great buildings, every solidity and beauty of proportion and of ornament.One of these was Piero Sarchi, who complied with Alexander's invitation, and spent the greatest part of his life in this remote district.

The monastery already existing was dedicated to St. Ulpha, whom tradition represents as the earliest christian missionary into C. His remains were buried under the high altar in the church, and he was, like other saints in the Romish ritual, nothing more nor less than the local genius, the tutelary deity of C. From the first visit of this saint, in the fifth century, this spot had been the scite of a place of worship. Edmond, the Saxon fugitive, raised an abbey on this spot, whose walls and towers, half demolished by time, were entirely razed by Alexander, who erected an entire new structure in its stead.

At the reformation, about one hundred years after, the people, simple and artless, by no means displayed that impetuous fury which distinguished the rest of their countrymen. The abbot himself was the first to adopt the fashionable change in religion, by which he converted the estate of the abbey which he held, as abbot, only for life, into an absolute inheritance. The abbey continued to be his own residence, and hence, instead of being overthrown like other fabrics of the same nature, was preserved with greater care than before.

This abbey has been exposed to few of the common causes of desstruction to which such fabrics, differently situated, have been liable. Being always used as a habitation, it has always been kept in habitable order. The occasional waste of time and the weather have been repaired in due season, and its original ceilings, floors, and furniture being formed of imperishable stone, or of the durable larch, are in a sound and entire state. It is a circumstance sufficiently remarkable, that,

since the change of its masters, it has undergone very few alterations, and that part of it which consists of stone bore no appearance of having undergone the slightest alteration since the beginning of the sixteenth century.

The stone is of a whitish hue, and, at a distance, looks as fresh and brilliant as if it were lately wrought. The contemplation of it suggests few of those images of which an ancient abbey is commonly a fertile source. Mouldering and ivy clad walls, solitude, silence, and desolation are not the companions of St. Ulpha, and it bears no marks of antiquity but the style in which it is built, which is a grand and simple gothic, and some antique tombs, furniture, and books. Martin of C, the abbot, at the reformation, was near of kin to the lord of C, and the abbey, with the lands belonging to it, reverted, in the middle of the seventeenth century, to the chief of the family. From that period it ceased to be the habitation of the head, who occupied a large mansion of comparatively recent date, in the middle of the forest.

Some collateral relation of the family, some maiden sister, or some dowager mother continued to reside at the abbey. Here the great grandmother of sir A's wife breathed her last, at a great age, about the time her grandson acceded to the estate. After that event, a few domestics were all its inhabitants, and its books, furniture, and curiosities were a prey to the rapacity of Donald the steward.

At the time of sir A's arrival, the usual family abode was in a very ruinous condition, and the abbey, though not without its inconveniences, was, in every respect, a preferable residence. Here, accordingly, he took up his abode, and from this recess superintended the execution of his schemes.

Sir A was far from being indifferent to the genuine luxuries and refinements of life, but his passion for objects of this kind was subordi

VOL. III. NO. XVIII.

nate to other passions, and he felt no inclination to provide for himself until he had amply provided for others. During the time sir Aspent in the abbey, it underwent no alterations but such as were required to make it a comfortable abode; but after he removed to apartments in his new town, he began to enquire to what use the vacant abbey might be best applied. After some deliberation, he resolved to convert it into a college, in which a certain number of pupils, selected from the inferior schools, might be instructed in the higher branches of knowledge.

As this college was a creature of his own munificence, he was at liberty to give it what form he thought proper, and it afforded so favourable an opportunity for promoting knowledge in his little territory, that he set himself to the task of devising and digesting its rules and canons with extraordinary zeal.

Among various other rules, prescribed to this institution, the following were perhaps of most note.The offices of teacher, in the inferior schools, of stewards, both principal and subordinate, and of parish ministers, were only to be filled by the pupils of this college. Pupils were admitted at the age of twenty, and a diploma, declaring them proficients, and making them eligible for such offices, was only granted after a scholarship of five years, and after their attainments, intellec tual and moral, had undergone a strict examination. By marriage, contracted during this term, they forfeited their station in the college, with all its advantages.

Knowledge may be distinguished into such as is acquired by secluded study and meditation, and such as requires, in order to its production or perfection, travel, and residence in foreign parts.

Natural history, and especially its chief object, the science of man, can only be studied and improved by passing through different countries, and residing in different nations. We cannot improve and enlarge our own mechanical and agriculty

6

ral arts, without viewing and inves. tigating those of other nations; and the finer arts of dancing, music, painting, and sculpture, particularly require a residence in France, Germany, and Italy.

Sir A's ruling passion was connected with those objects of pursuit, by which the real comfort and wealth of his people were promoted. In comparison with the art of doubling the product of a hay or turnip field, or making a certain quantity of fuel answer all the purposes formerly effected by a double quantity, all other arts were trivial and insignificant, in his estimation. But though these things were of prime importance, he well knew that the happiness of life is drawn from a great number of sources. His natural temper, had it not been controuled by principle, would have entirely devoted him to the luxuries of taste. As it was, he conceived them worthy of no small portion of regard. He carefully noticed any juvenile token of genius for poetry, painting, or music, drew the fortunate youth from his obscurity and poverty, and bestowed upon him every advantage of education and travel.

A certain number of the members of this college were constantly employed in foreign countries, on an adequate though moderate pension; a certain number were entirely employed in education at home, within the precincts of the college; while a third class, enjoying apartments in the college, were bound to devote themselves to the cultivation and improvement of the sciences in general, or to perform some college office.

This establishment has long consisted of ten travelling or missionary members, who each receive a stipend of three hundred pounds a year, while absent on mission, ten resident members, ten tutors, one hundred pupils, and twenty ser

vants.

The dress, diet, and employment of the resident members of this col-lege were all regulated by a strict

regard to sobriety and temperance. Soundness of mind and body was the object of these regulations; but, while this benefit was gained, that of cheapness and economy was accomplished by the same means. The whole annual expence, which was defraved by the lord, did not exceed six thousand pounds: a sum you will think extremely small, when divided among so many. On the tenants of the college itself, there was indeed expended only three thousand pounds, which is only an average of near thirty pounds a piece; but this was made a liberal subsistence by several circumstances. Provision was expended with the utmost order and economy, which was facilitated by the whole society dwelling under one roof. The diet was confined to domestic products, and the whole of it was raised upon three farms of twentyfive acres each, belonging to the college, and is not included in the above sum, which was laid out on other objects.

To accommodate this society, though so numerous, the abbey in its original state was quite sufficient. In making the necessary alterations and additions, the old fabric was carefully preserved, and the same style of architecture carried throughout. Sir A— was ambitious of preserving a monument of art, honourable to his own taste, and useful to his people. He procured the aid of the best artists of the age, in planning and adorning his college, and his free income giving him an almost unlimited command of labour, ail that he designed he required only a short time to execute. Sir A enriched his college with all the furniture of knowledge: books, maps, and prints, botanic and mineralogical specimens, philosophical apparatus of every kind.— Within this studious and favourite enclosure, he endeavoured to collect every thing which could enlarge the understanding, exalt the fancy, or purify the heart.

Many circumstances aided and/ befriended sir A- in these his

arduous schemes. His uncle had spent a much longer life than his has been in maturing the same plan of improvement, in his Devonshire estate. This estate was indeed originally much smaller, its soil and climate better, and the people and their arts in a much more improved state, than the northern one; so that the proprietor had much fewer objects to attend to, and fewer obstacles to overcome. But the difficulties of sir A- were much lessened by the institutions of his predecessor, not only inasmuch as they afforded him the inducement and direction of a practical example, but also plenty of the hands and the tools which his purposes demanded.

A wise system of government not only encreases the happiness of individuals, but multiplies their number. The latter effect is, to a certain degree, inconsistent with the former, and it is the test and essence of political wisdom, not only to raise the number of its subjects to the greatest height consistent with individual felicity, but likewise to perform a more arduous task, that of hindering this number from encreasing.

Men who endeavour, like the uncle and the nephew in the present case, to raise the condition of such human beings as reside within a few miles square, can scarcely ever have the latter task to perform. As their influence is confined to a small spot in a great country, all redundant population finds an outlet, by which to flow off.

Happily, indeed, for sir A's English tenants, as well as for the success of his own projects, the Scottish demesnes afforded this convenient and beneficial outlet. All the art, industry, moderation, and wisdom, of which a considerable portion was required in his subordinate agents and ministers, were, if I may so speak, ready furnished by his uncle's institutions. These had bred up a great number of ingenious, accomplished, and industrious young men, who were eager to embrace the advantageous offers of

their landlord, and not only to people his farms and work-shops, but to fill the pulpits of his churches, and the preceptorial chairs in his schools and his college, and to execute his scientific and literary commissions in foreign countries.

To be continued.

For the Literary Magazine.

CONNECTICUT SCENERY.

From a Traveller's Journal.

HIGBY'S MOUNTAIN.

ON Wednesday, Mr. D—— and myself on horseback, and my friend and A in a chaise, visited two lofty points in the neighbourhood of this city (Middletown), called Higby's mountain and Powder hill. The first is ascended by a winding and craggy road, leading through a forest of shrub-oaks and cedars. The opposite side is a steep and rugged cliff, the height of which it is difficult to ascertain. This cliff, whose descent is, in many places, perpendicular, forms a kind of wall, from the foot of which there stretches a scene of magnificent extent, and delicious variety.

The prospect was obscured by woods, till we reached the verge, The farther we advanced, the decli vity became more steep and rugged. It is usual to leave carriages and horses at the bottom, and ascend on foot. Unwillingness to leave our horses at a distance made us persist in pushing them forward, till we brought them within sixty or eighty yards of the precipice, over rocks and steeps, which a calm view would have deemed wholly impracticable.

We traversed this brink for some time, chusing different stations to diversify the view. I feel an elevation and expansion of soul on these occasions, difficult to be described. These emotions were heightened, in