ly thinking that I should bilk those impromptu visiters, who are then only drawing on their boots, and thinking which way they shall turn their horses' heads, and upon whom they shall inflict a visitation. But let no simple soul depend on his cunning. My three o'clock scheme made no alteration but this, that what I called dinner became a luncheon to my visiters, who having eat, and drank some of my excellent light wines, departed just in time to gallop five miles farther, and dine with another friend, who does business of that kind in the evening. And scarcely are they gone, when they are replaced by another set, who having been compelled to dine with old Squaretoes at his d-d hour of half past two, pop in on me, to tell me the news, and taste that curious claret they had heard so much about! I have only to add, that the present summer has contributed not a little to my grievances-so many wet evenings," one could not turn out a dog in such wea. ther;" and my beds are so excel·lent, many of my friends never slept so sound any where- and then a ride next morning is so pleasant-the dust laid-even when the weather is as favourable as can be wished, yet the cool of the morning has so many charms, that my spare beds (I wish there had never been such a piece of furniture invented) are all occupied; and were you to hear of all my excellencies and conveniencies, you would be puzzled to know whether I was most renowned as the keeper of an inn, a tavern, or a hotel.. But an end must be put to these things, and I hereby give notice, that if any London gentleman wishes to go into this line of business, I shall be happy to treat with him for the lease of the house, and he shall have the goodwill for nothing. I cannot, however, conclude with out mentioning the opinion of a friend to whom I lately communicated my grievances. After a short pause, and striking his forehead, he exclaimed-" Mr Placid, I have hit it!I have hit it!—all your distresses arises from this one mistake-you took a country. house instead of a house in the country! I am, Sir, your's, &c. Parallel between Linnæus and ·Buffon. [Extracted from the Notes of Cuvier on the Abbé de Lille's Three Reigns of Nature.] IT is an ingenious idea of the author of the Three Reigns, to bring together (in the Botanical Garden at Paris) the shades of two rivals who were far from being friends, but who, nevertheless, notwithstanding the oppositeness of their views and characters, or rather from that very oppositeness, co-operated for an advancement of natural history, as rapid as it was extensive. Linnæus and Buffon seemed, in fact, to possess, respectively, qua lities that could not be found in conjunction in the same person, but whose union at the same time was necessary to give to the study of nature so powerful an impul sion. Both of these men, enthusiasts in their respective studies, and burn3 K 2 ing ing with a love of fame, of indefatigable industry, great sensibi. lity, strong imagination, and vigorous understanding, came to the field armed with the resources of profound erudition. But in this field cach chalked out for himself a different course, according to the particular bent of his genius. Lin. næus, with fine discrimination, seized the distinguishing features of things. Buffon, at one glance, combined the remotest relations, Linnæus, accurate and exact, has created a new language, for the purpose of communicating his ideas with precision and vigour. Buffon, copious and rich, employs the whole compass and powers of his vernacular tongue, for unfolding the extent of his conceptions. Ne. ver were the beauties with which the Creator has adorned every thing to which he has given being, Buffon. But it always happens that when we have felt the emotions excited in our soul by the enchanting eloquence of Buffon, we are disposed to return to Lin. næus in order to arrange the enchanting pictures of the former into proper order; being afraid lest our recollections of them should be no other than assemblages of ideas vague and confused. And undoubtedly it is not the least merit of those two writers, that they constantly inspire, reciprocally, a desire of returning from the one to the other, although this alternation seems to prove, and proves, in fact, that there is something wanting in each of them. Population. described in a more impressive [From the Morning Chronicle.] manner than by Linnæus in detail. Never was the majesty of the crea tion, or the striking grandeur of the laws to which it is subjected, more nobly displayed than by Buffon. The first, frightened at the chaos in which the history of nature had been left by the negligence of his predecessors, had the skill, by simple methods and clear and short definitions, to reduce this immense labyrinth to order; and to render the knowledge of particular substances a matter of easy attainment. The second, disgusted at the dryness of writers contented, for the most part, with being exact, knows how to interest us in particular beings by the magic of his harmonious and poetical language. Sometimes, when one is fatigued with the toilsome study of Linnæus, he loves to repose on SIR, IF you can spare a small space at this anxious crisis, I hope you will allow me to make a few remarks on the dread of excessive population, which has lately seized some philosophers, and produced, I must confess, some ingenious treatises. The fear seems to be lest population should exceed the means of support, and it has been asserted that a nation should grow no more men and women than it can feed. Now, Sir, although I cannot think that we have a right to thin nations as we would thin gooseberrybushes, yet I am disposed to speak a word of comfort to those who are still alarmed at the increasing population of this country, and who have proposed plans for diminishing it which have not met, nor are likely to meet, with public approbation. approbation. I have lately discovered so many antidotes to popu. lation, fair, legal, and even in the opinion of some, honourable as well as fashionable, that I hope no nation, organized as ours is, will ever be afraid of being too popu lous, or take it into their heads that they have conquered death and the grave." These medical writers who have been at the pains to write systems, Inform us that the human species is liable to so many disorders, that I am surprised there should be a living being on the earth. Dr. Cullen's list of diseases amounts to 150; that of Sauvage to 315; that of Linnæus to 326; that of Vogel to 560; and Sagar, a later writer, contents himself with 351. Cullen's must be evidently too few, because it bears no proportion to any of the others. Let us then strike a kind of balance, and console those who dread excessive population, by informing them that mankind are provided with three hundred and fifty-five mortal discuses. To this three hundred and fifty diseases, let us add one thousand doctors, which in this country is, I am told, a moderate computation; about two thousand apothecaries and surgeons, and an equal num. ber of quacks, or what is the same, quack medicines, and I flatter myself we shall be enabled to keep our population within very decent bounds. But if all this be not enough, I have still a very handsome reserve in the following articles, all either strictly legal, or strictly honourable and fashionable, namely, The Gin-shop, and, now and then, I am, Sir, Your humble Servant, A CALCULATOR. POETRY. FULL ODE FOR THE NEW YEAR, 1809. BY HENRY JAMES PYE, ESQ. P. L. ULL-ORB'D in equinoctial skies And swells the ocean's briny tides, Force o'er the labour'd mole their way, Scorn every weak resource of human toil, O'erwhelm the peopled town, and waste the cultur'd soil. But when, by native fences barr'd From billowy rage, the happier land, And rocky cliffs for ever stand To the wide-water'd coast a guard, Such as on Vecta's southern steep Look down defiance on the raging deep, While from the heights sublime the swain Mocks the vain efforts of the foaming main, Till Nature bids the deluged surge subside, Hush'd is the tempest's voice, and refluent rolls the tide. So o'er Europa's ravag'd plain We saw the torrent wild of war Resistless spread its iron reign, And scatter ruin wide and far; The embattled wall, the warlike band, Yet Yet by her rocks secure from harm, Iberia turns the battle's tide, Resists the injurious Tyrant's pride. While freely floating in the ambient sky, Sacred to Freedom's cause, their mingled ensigns fly. ODE FOR HIS MAJESTY'S BIRTH-DAY. – June 4. WH [By the same.] HILE Europe with dejected eye The scene of desolation lie; Or if with trembling hope she cast And grasp the spear and wave the crest; Yet lies her course through war's ensanguin'd flood; Yet must she win her way through carnage and thro' blood, Ah! happier Britain, o'er thy plain The storms that shake each neighbour-realm with fear, They bless the halcyon hours that gave, To rule a people free and brave, A patriot Monarch all their own, Their swords his bulwark, and their hearts his throne, The Muse devotes her tributary lay, A nation's vows in choral Pæan join, And consecrate to Fame a verse as mean as mine.' Yet not to selfish thoughts confin'd, Are the warm feelings of a virtuous mind: Mourns for the sorrows that afflict mankind. 3 K 4 O let, |