slow, but steady flight, mortals disregard till it is nearly ended.

But to what thinking being does not this returning æra bring reflections of a serious nature? reflections which, for a time, cannot fail to produce a most salutary effect: for my own part, I feel disposed to indulge a train of serious and solemn thoughts on this occasion; I feel the most lively emotion of gratitude for the ills I have escaped, for the benefits I have received, and the experience I have gained during that period whose end I have just witnessed; and, while I congratulate my self, I cannot help remembering my country; I compare its situation with that of others; I see it still enjoying the blessings of peace and liberty, while these are suffering all the horrors and all the miseries of war, and groaning beneath the iron yoke of oppression: I compare my native land to a person standing on the margin of the storm-vexed ocean, who sees the mariner's vessel beaten by the restless billows, and driven along at the mercy of the blast, while he views the scene with pity for the woes of others, and gratitude for his own security.

But when reflection recals the remembrance of the many errors I have committed, which cannot now be repaired; the prodigal waste I have made of those moments which can never return; the resolutions I have made at every beginning of this important portion of the little life of man; when I propose to amend my life and conduct, &c.; while wishing to be able to put in execution every virtuous resolve; memory holds up to view the vows I made at the commencement of the last year; tells me they have been slighted, neglected, forgotten: I feel mortified at the imbecility of human nature, and the vanity of human resolutions.

When I remember that the year which is just gone is numbered with those which have previously occupied the immeasurable abyss of eternity; that at its beginning it appeared so long, its end so very remote,

and is now already passed away; that another considerable portion of my life is elapsed, and I proportionably nearer to that period when I shall cease to be; how unprepared I am for that awful change; can I be altogether joyous on the occasion? does there not appear to be more cause for humility than exultation, for gravity than rejoicing, and for self-examination than carelessness and levity.

But it will be said, I am indulging egotism; true: nevertheless, while describing the effect which certain agents produce by their action on my mind, I likewise describe their effects on those of many others; not that all minds are alike, but, I think I can venture to say, they resemble each other as much as faces; and while among millions we can scarcely find two exactly alike, yet we find ourselves at a loss to describe the difference. The reason why all do not reflect in the same serious manner on occasions like the present, is not because they have not the power of reflection, but because they do not exercise it. A thousand causes may contribute to banish thought, or lead it to dwell on subjects of a lighter nature; but if any one sits down and estimates the reasons why he should be grave or gay, he will find the most weighty to rest with the former.

Among other causes for serious reflections, and even for those of a mournful cast, is the recollection of those friends who commenced the last year with us, some of whom are, perhaps, lost to us by the difference of their pursuits, some separated by the common incidents of life, some by the loss of that purity of character which once adorned them, some by our own folly and ill treatment, our own disregard to those virtuous principles, that fidelity, that sincerity, which marked the early stages of our friendship, and some who were then fresh and blooming, alive to all the blessings of life, and are now laid in the cold and silent mansions of the dead; when, to the severity of our losses this way, we add

the reflection, that we are all hastening to that quiet and undisturbed retreat of "busy bustling man," where all the passions, which once agitated and tormented him, are laid for ever at rest, that, even before this year is completed, we may be "gathered unto our fathers," or witness the departure of many of our friends, who now rejoice at its commencement, but will never behold its termination, every gay thought then vanishes, and reflection rests solely on the most momentous subjects.

Of what service can your Reflectors be to the world, says my gay friend Lycario, if, instead of amusing your readers, you only lead them to reflect on such mournful subjects. You had better let those who can, rejoice in peace. According to your own account, there is but little occasion for rejoicing. But what does this signify? If you see a person who can be pleased with a rattle, would you take it from him, or enter into a sober discussion upon the trifling nature of his amusement? would you tell him there is no music, no harmony, in the noise it makes? If you did, you would spend your time to little purpose; and, when you had convinced him, you would then deprive him of an innocent pleasure. If I wrote Reflectors, I would select gayer subjects, or I would treat the one you have now chosen in a more lively manner. You shall then write one for me, said I. He agreed; and, if my friend keeps his word, my readers will, probably, be consoled for the solemnity of this, by the gaiety of the next paper.

VALVERDI.

For the Literary Magazine.

VARIETIES.

Adventures of a Picture.

A PAINTING, which had been for some years at a broker's shop in Lewes, England, for sale, was lately purchased by Mr. Dunn, of the Star

VOL. V. NO. XXIX.

inn, who paid a guinea for it, and caused it to be hung up to cover a blank space on one of his staircases. In this situation, the picture was seen by a connoisseur, who purchased it of the landlord for 15 guineas, and he is said to have since diposed of it for 7001. This picture, which is accounted one of the best productions of the pencil of Rubens, or of his equally eminent disciple, Vandyke, is the portrait of a lady of a noble English family, and her two chil dren, in the costume of the middle of the 17th century; and, although it has of late years been through a variety of hands, and sold, by some, at so low a price as half a crown, it is still in good preservation.

Liverpool Society.

In addition to the literary and scientific establishments already exist. ing in Liverpool, a society has just been instituted, which, if actively supported, cannot fail to advance the progress of some of the most important branches of human knowledge. The principal subjects to which the society proposes to direct its investigations, are medicine, anatomy, and chemistry, as well as physics in general, and occasionally every branch of natural philosophy. The establishment will be conducted on nearly the same plan as the Literary and Philosophical Society of Manchester, and other institutions of a similar nature. The mem bers propose to assemble once a fortnight, and at each meeting the subjects of the succeeding night's discussion is to be proposed and approved. The question is to be opened by a written memoir, to be produced and read by any of the members, after which, the investigation is to be continued by the oral communications of such persons as chuse to deliver their opinions. Most of the principal gentlemen of the faculty in town, and some others of distinguished talents, have already offered their support, and there can be no doubt but that the society will become in

a short time eminently useful in the increase and diffusion of valuable science.

A new Use of Fire. Mr. M. Gregson, of Liverpool, has lately published the result of some interesting investigations relative to the uses of articles consumed by public fires. He collected from the ruins of the warehouses destroyed by the great fire of Liverpool, in 1802, a quantity of wheat, burnt sugar, rice, flour, and cotton; the sugar he reduced to a fine powder, and made into a water colour paint; it also answered as a varnish ground, an oil colour, and a printing ink. The burnt wheat answered the same purposes; and the fine American flour he made into excellent paste. Thus, though the articles damaged by the above fire sold for little more than 13,000l., Mr. G. expresses his conviction, that had his method been adopted, a saving of 44,0001. might have been made upon the grain alone. The Society of Arts have voted him their gold medal for his observations.

English Inland Navigation. Nearly all the great works on the important and extensive line of inland navigation of England, the Grand Junction Canal, are now completed. The stupendous embankment between Woolverton and Cosgrove, near Stoney Stratford, is now opened for the use of the trade; by this great work nine locks by its side, four down and five up, are avoided, and one level sheet of water is formed, from Stoke-Bruern, to some miles south of Fenny Stratford, as well as on the Buckingham branch, extending to within a mile of that town. The arches under this embankment for the passage of the Ouse river, which were said to be sinking soon after the centres were struck, have happily proved sufficient, and the embankment seems to possess great stability. The

branch and iron railway that is to conect the Grand Junction Canal with the New River at the town of Northampton, as also with the Leicestershire and Northamptonshire Union Canal, are proceeding with great spirit. This new junction is expected to prove of great Leicestershire, and all the adjoining importance to Northamptonshire, counties, as well as to the company, who now, under new and happier auspices, seem to be rapidly retrieving their affairs.

sheep are not debased in quality by The fleeces of Spanish or Merino the English climate, as has been satisfactorily proved by Dr. Parry and Mr. Tollett; the importation of Spanish wool was become uncertain, and the price greatly enhanced. The quantily imported in 1800 was upwards of 8,090,000lb.; in 1803 it had declined to 4,700,000lb.; but had 7,000,000lb.; and in the course of again risen in 1804 to upwards of the year 1805 the importation had been considerably short of the last in the corresponding months.

Mr. Tollett, who has sheep from his majesty's flock, has sold their wool at 6s. 4d. per lb. when brought to the state of imported Spanish wool, and had sold his fleeces entire at 4s. 3d. per lb. In a political point of view, it is highly desirable to save the large sums which are paid to foreigners for wool; the value of Spanish wool, rated at the customhouse price of 3s. 6d. per pound, amounts to upwards of 620,000l. per

ann.

The increased price within a few years has promoted the improvements of the quality of the En glish wool.

Population of Dublin.

From an Essay on Population recently published, by the Rev. Mr. Whitelaw, which the author affirms to be the result of an actual survey, taken in 1798, with great care and precision, and comprehending the

general returns of the district committees in 1804, it appears, that in 1798, the total population of the city of Dublin including the garrison was 182,370, and that in 1804 it amounted exclusive of the garrison to 167,899. At the former period the number of inhabited houses was 16,401, and at the latter 15,645; consequently the return of 1798 exceeds that of 1804 by 756 houses. From Mr. Whitelaw's lists it likewise appears that there is a majority of 20,247 females.

Agricultural Exploit.

Wm. Brooks, a respectable farmer at Aylesbury, England, lately undertook to plough an acre and a half of clover ley, chain measure, in 8 hours. Considerable wagers were depending, which were decided in favour of Mr. Brooks, who performed it in six hours and ten minutes with the old Buckinghamshire footplough, drawn by four horses at length. Mr. B. continued for an hour and eight minutes longer, in which time he ploughed a rood and seven poles more. The ploughing was done to the entire satisfaction of the judges, amidst a numerous concourse of spectators.

Threshing Machine.

At a late annual show of cattle in Sussex, England, Mr. Lester, of Piccadilly, exhibited his new portable hand threshing machine, which is so great an improvement on the one he exhibited there last year, that compared with it, one man will do as much work as a horse, which was verified by the following trial against time. One man working the machine threshed five sheaves of wheat in five minutes; the straw of which weighed thirty-one pounds, yielding one gallon and three quarts of wheat. This machine, which is the first that has been made of the kind, will do nearly double the above work when driven by a horse.

For the Literary Magazine.

THE ADVERSARIA,

Or Winter Evening Amusements.

NO. XIII.

MY studies this evening afford me a character, which I am confident the ladies will admire, and I therefore hope the sighing Strephons will endeavour to imitate it.

A lady, upon being reproached with insensibility, and an unnatural coldness of disposition, made the following reply. It may be added, that the original is in the French language.

The austere coldness and insensibility you reproach me with, and perhaps think a constitutional defect, is neither the effect of prudery, nor the melancholy scruples of a silly saint. Believe me above such little motives of action; believe that my blood often circulates with rapidity; believe that I know there is but one spring in the year of life, and that love is combined with and attached to humanity; nay, I will even permit you to believe that Cupid, in certain attire, has as many charms in my eyes as in those of the rest of my sex; yet, after all these confessions, which I make with pleasure and openness, as artifice and disguise are only the refuge of little minds, for which I have no occasion, I tell you, that, as much as I honour love, I despise lovers, and detest their perfidious flames, their deceitful arts, with their false vows, alas! often but too much credited by our amiable and credulous sex, merely because they feel no trace of such perfidy in their own gentle bosoms.

But if you would see my frigid system vanish into air, let Fortune throw into my way such a man as my imagination sometimes creates, and whom I am afraid is only to be found there :-however, take my mental picture of him.

To render this union of heart more durable, he must be my guide, my friend, my counsellor, and my lover, so that, when near him, my mind may acquire elevation and grandeur.

Yes, I confess it, should Fortune throw such a man in my way, my coldness would vanish at his approach, like snow in sunshine, and would accompany his footsteps at all times, and in all places; but whether in a cottage or a palace, I would never deign to bestow a thought.

Till that idol of my heart and mind be realized, I desire not to please, and shall persevere in my coldness, which never cost me an effort.

The group of admirers whom my feeble charms attract are not flattering to me; I despise their sentiments, with their little arts to please, and yawn at their incense.

Let them seek the weak and the vain, who will listen to their sighs and sufferings; the zephyr bends the reed, but has no effect on the steady oak.

Few writers have thrown more light on the ancient history of England than the famous FROISSART. His chronicle commences with the accession of Edward III, and ends with the death of Richard II, comprising a period of seventy-three years. Like almost every other writer, he has numerous and obvious imperfections. But what Plutarch has remarked of a passage in Xenophon may, with equal justice, be applied to this author. Froissart does not describe a march, a battle, a siege, or a pursuit, but he places them before our eyes. By the first stroke of his artless yet magic pen, we are transported into the tumult of action, and forget that we continue in the closet. He has not, indeed, attempted the higher walks of eloquence. He is neither a Thucydides nor a Sallust, nor does he display the judgment and accuracy of Polybius, but he deserves to be termed the Xenophon of his age. plete with materials, it is true that he has inserted a multiplicity of particulars, which are no longer interesting at the distance of four centuries; but, wherever his subject rises equal to his abilities, full without redundancy, intelligent and instructive without ostentation, he charms by that pathetic simplicity of manner, that minute but happy selection of circumstances, which animates the page of the admired Athenian. Nor is it the least honourable part of his praise, that he appears to have been entirely divested of national and of personal prejudice, and that, without any vestige of parade or ostentation, he frequently discovers the traces of a heart tenderly alive to the softer feelings.

Re

While we are hourly oppressed with a fresh multitude of insipid compilations from compilations, we are in the most serious danger of forgetting the very existence of those inestimable writers from whom all our sources of information are originally derived. Of the numerous treatises on Roman affairs, which