PATTY, the Rural MAID. (With a moft elegant Engraving KIND Nature has Patty exprefs'd, And Cupids exult in her eyes. Such winning attraction difplays; Her mind, the best beauty of all, My wish and affections ftill raise. The Nightingale chimes to her voice, The Syrens would yield to her fong; In echoes the Vaileys rejoice, Her mufic enchants the gay throng. Since beauty and rapture agree, To ravish both hearing and fight; O come, my dear Patty, with me And crown the gay fcene with delight. Come with me, dear maid, to yon grove, Where the Thrush and the Linnet refort; Where Bowers invite us to love, Where Cupids ftill revel and sport. In blifs we'll enjoy the long day, To mutual endearments refign'd, My head on thy bofom I'll lay, And pity the rest of mankind. Deo and Bettina: a Venetian Story. Introduced by Reflections on Plebeian Heroifm, and fome Account of the Forms, Cufoms, and Ufages of a Regatta. From the Countess of Rofenberg's Moral and Sentimental Effays, lately published.] in the Manner of Red Chalk.) or feldom excited the curiofity of philofophical obfervers! Through this neglect we have loft, and lofe every day, the knowledge of many a deed which deferves admiration, and which would doubtlefs, if known, obtain the applaufe of delicate and enlightened minds. The lower claffes of men often produce beings fignalized for spirit and fentiment, whom Fame, had the found them in other circumftanoes, would have elevated upon the highest pinnacle of her temple.When it happens that we hear of any noble action in thele humble walks of life, it ap pears to me, that we owe it more credit and applaufe, than if it had been atchieved in a more confpicuous ftate, affifted by the refources of an enlightened education, prompted by ambition, or the love of praife; circumftances which, in my opinion, leffen in fome degree the merit of any action. I do not know that Curtius or Cato killed thernfelves through vanity: but I am very fure that it is not through vanity that an honeft plebeian thinks, fays, and executes the fine things which we attribute to our heroes in hiftory, and with which we embellish our poems. For which reafon, I heartily approve the happy idea once fuggefted to me, of compofing a biftory of fubaltern beroes. It would be rendering a real fervice to human nature, to fhew that enthusiasm of glory, and elevation of fentiment, are the gifts of Nature indifferently diftributed to all her children; and that it is not her fault, if the circumftances of focie ftifle the opening buds of virtue in the lower claffes of people, and encourage them more to flourish and expand in higher fituations; or if thefe heroic actions, although more pure and more fublime from their fimplicity, are buried on one fide in an eternal oblivion, whilft on the other the very fame, although much less difinterefted, are extolled by every tongue,and every pen. There feems ever to have been a predilection in favour of military enthusiasm, above all other kinds of virtue or merit: warlike exploits, traits of perfonal bravery, have always a firft place in our partialities. I confefs that the fcene, the particular time, the ideas of life or death, of victory or defeat, are circumstances which dazzle the imagination, and affect the heart: but is it not to moments of intoxication we often owe these actions? Is there, in every boafted inftance, all that liberty of foul, all that coolness of blood, neceffary to leave a due fenfe of the obftacles which we have to furmount, of the rewards accruing from the good we atchieve, and of the advantageous confequences by which it will be followed to ourselves and to others? If any one pretends that every heroic action fuppofes this fort of intoxication; I will anfwer, that this tranfient ardour is, in obfcure fituations of life, very different from that infpired by example, by the camp, by a battle, by that fhame attached to the leaft mark of fear, by the noble enthusiasm of an elevated mind, which, with a full knowledge of caufes and effects, conceives and executes an heroic action, be ing carried to it only by the beauty of the action itself, and by a fentiment of its own honour and worth. What I am going to relate cannot properly be called an heroic action; it is, however, a trait which, applied to great perfonages, would make no contemptible figure either in epic or dramatic compofition. Proud mortals, who are placed above the reft of mankind, will fee that there are, in the obfcurer claffes of the people, great men loft to fociety, for want only of thofe opportunities of diftinguifhing themfelves, which a confpicuous rank affords. Although perfons of high ftation fcarcely deign to look upon them but with contempt, y flory will convince them that men of this order fometimes poffefs fouls more worthy of the favours of fortune, than those whom the blind goodefs has the moft diftinguished. The virtue of the great is often no more than pomp and oftentation; among the people it fines in all its purity, it animates their finple hearts, which know no need of appearing what they are not in the eves of their fellow-creatures. All are equal in the ftate of nature, as were alfo in the origin of nations, and Quring the whole period that induftry, arts, commerce, and anmbition, led not to inequaKty of conditions. In proportion as thefe grow more fubject to political regulations, the people became less known, and indeed sondemned to a certain degree of contempt and obfcurity. Bodily ftrength, the first title to diftinction and superiority, the first kind of merit and heroifm, was now no lon ger held in eftimation. The athletic games, the combats at feafts and religious ceremonies, the different national gymnastic exer cifes, have loft all their dignity and importance. By their means were estimated the valour, the courage, the addrefs of each citizen; by them were nourished and sustained that military ardour, that confidence in their own ftrength, which nations have found fo useful for the defence of their country, the preservation of their liberties, and the maintenance of their glory. At the time when the little country of Greece retained her fuperiority over the immenfe kingdoms of Afia; when a handful of Spartans ftopped the torrent of a prodigious army; when many small states flourished in the Peloponnefus, who had always their armies at hand, leagued together, fupporting themselves firmly against the enterprifing ambition, avarice, and cunning of neighbouring monarchs, the man of the people appeared in the public games, and there difplaying his ftrength and address in carrying off the prizes, obtained the applaufes of his fellow-citizens, the rewards of his illuftrious chiefs, and the gift of immortal fame. Nations became more polifhed, that is to fay, more corrupted; artifts fucceeded to athletics; effeminate pleasures to the boast of strength; ornaments and elegance, to solidity and energy; ingenious difputes, to combats; in fhort, all the foft vices of luxury, to the auftere virtues of patriotifm. The conquerors had then a fine game to play: they invaded thofe once-impenetrable countries; they reduced to flavery those Greeks formerly fo untameable, and deprived them of their precious liberty, the prefervation of which had always been the firft confideration of their ancestors; they eafed them, at length, of the care of governing themfelves, confounding them amongit a croud of fubject provinces, deftined to ferve the rapacioufuefs of governors and the violence of tyrants. Scarce had a glimmer of liberty again retrieved fome part of the earth, when the lower clafs of people, who conftitute the greater part of society, and who feel more fenfibly the advantages of it, renewed those primitive manners infpired by nature; and began to exercise their natural strength in tilting-matches, games, and combats, and to look upon any victory over their equals as the highest point of glory. This natural fentiment, reftrained and directed by the heads of the people, gave rife to thofe popular fpectacles fo proper to fofter and encourage it. The little republics of Florence, Sienna, Pila, and Bologna, used to exhibit them fre quently, quently, and indeed periodically, upon certain feaft days, as those of Notre Dame; of the tutelary faints of their cities; and alfo upon occafions of any great political event; and fometimes to celebrate the Baccanales d'hiver. It is not long fince even the battles upon the bridge of the Arno have been fuppreffed; but our age is too much refined not to scourage such barbarous exercises, which flourished in times ill provided with politer amufements, when men were inured to hardships, and difpofed to take up arms upon every occafion, and to embrace either the quarrels of interior faction, or the cause of the state against an open enemy. Some small remains of these ancient cuf toms of Italy may ftill be feen at Venice. This city is justly celebrated for the glorious records of its hiftory, for a date more ancient than any other actual republic, for the fingularity of its fituation and conftruction, as well as for many other diftinguishing circumftances. There is fomething in the manners of the inhabitants, which may recal to the remembrance of an obferver their warlike and romantic origin, their heroic progrefs, their relation to Greece, and the fpirit of thofe ancient times which faw them flourish. Above all, that numerous, and fingular body of gondoliers lead to thefe reflections, and give occafion to other intereft ing retrofpects. The gondola is a little boat, upon a peculiar construction, and adapted folely to the navigation of the Venetian canals, which form the ground-plot, in the middle of which is built this grand and magnificent city, and which encompass it at feveral miles diftance from the terra firma. Thefe gondolas are the public and private carriages; they are made ufe of in the fame manner as hackney-coaches, &c. in other great capitals; they are diverfified too in regard to their forms; and, as appropriated to various ufes, they often change their names and aspects: but the generical name of gondoliers include all kind of men that handle the oar in the city of Venice. This very considerable body of men have enjoy ed, for many ages, the moft advantageous repute. They are famed for their robuft fhape, and much noted for their addrefs, their good-humour, their wit in ingenious and lively repartees, and above all, for their difcretion, their attachment to their mafters, and their devotion to the patricians, the rulers of the ftate. It is my opinion, that their employment, by keeping them in continual exercife, and requiring a general motion of the body, makes them robuft and healthy, and that from hence proceeds their good-humour, vivacity, and every other happy disposition. I even think that their attachment, their fidelity towards their masters, and their very zealous devotion towards the chiefs of their country, are not wholly owing to the good treatment which they receive from one or the other, although the Venetians are the most mildly governed, and perhaps the least op- . prefied of any nation whatever; and a gon dolier is a fervant better paid than any other, and a labourer whofe work procures him a more comfortable livelihood: but I am inclined to imagine, that these sentiments are. natural to a Venetian gondolier; who, in that capacity, knows no element but his canals, has no other refource than his oar and his bark, no other means of fubfiftence fhould he cease to be a gondolier; a change which, however, feems as impoffible to him as that of his nature. The ancient fpirit of Grecian emulation reigns ftill among these brave people. When the weather permits, they amuse themselves, in their leifure hours, with rowing over their canals, and the vaft lagunes which furround their city, perched upon the end of their barks, and challenging one another to the race. They put up little prizes (often no more than a piece of cloth in the form of a flag, a green branch, &c.) and difplay the greatest ardour to obtain them. No fooner do the people on the quays, or those belonging to the other boats that are wandering about, perceive a challenge, than they immediately follow the combatants: people gather together on the fhore, the windows" are crowded, different fides are espoused, and the incident becomes, almoft infenfibly, a very animated holiday. If, perchance, the Lord of some sumptuous palace, or a curious ftranger at the balcony of his hotel, fhew the leaft defire to fee the conteft, arrangements are foon made for a more orderly courfe with all the joy imaginable. Then the found of the drums, blended with that of the timbrels and fongs of the women, is heard in the boats; judges are named, feconds appointed; and, in short, almost all the interesting circumstances of the public games of ancient times are in a moment recalled, without the least previous expectation. But the fpectacle which has the power of exciting the greateft emotions of the heart, admiration, enthufiafm, a fenfe of glory, and the whole train of our beft feelings, is the grand regatta, commanded and directed by principal perfons, in the name of the government. This is only exhibited on particular occafions, as the vifits of ro reign Princes and Kings at Venice; fince they have learned, after the example of the firft fovereign in Europe, to travel like other mortals, and love to fee objects at their fource. It is difficult to give a juft idea of the ardour that the notice of a regatta spreads |