The Latinity of Mussatus is respectable, considering the age in which he wrote: that his style is sometimes harsh and obscure, or his poetry occasionally defective in quantity, is not surprising. To censure him for wanting the purity and precision of the Augustan age, or that of Leo X. were as absurd as to expect the earliest dawn to beam with meridian splendour. He certainly made one of the earliest and most vigorous efforts to recal the Latin Muses from their long exile, and his works deserve more attention than they have hitherto met with. Warton observes, in his History of English Poetry, vol. ii. p. 409, that the name and writings of Mussatus were hardly known until they were brought forward to the public notice in the Essay on Pope. As an historiographer, his character for fidelity and veracity, stands very high; and his historical books are valuable as furnishing the best account of the times and transactions of which they treat. He was eminently qualified, by the high stations which he filled, for an historian, being present, and frequently presiding, in the affairs which he relates. To his diligence PeBrarch bears testimony, who styles him "Rerum satis anxius perquisitor." He has recorded with freedom and impar tiality, events disfigured or suppressed by other historians; and the jealousy of the Italians has led them to castrate his works, by tearing out offensive pages, so that it is rare to meet with a perfect copy of them. The only edition of the works of Mussatus was printed at Venice, 1636, in folio, with notes by Osius and Pignorius, who, however, both died, being infected with the plague, some time before it was published; hence their notes are incomplete. His historical works, with some additions from MSS. with his Latin tragedies, may be found in Muratori's "Rerum Italicarum Scrip tores." Of his poetical works, his tragedies perhaps have most excellence. Sardonius says of them, that they appear to him Sophocleum quiddam spirare. But these I leave to a gentleman much more able to do justice to them and their author than myself; having with pleasure observed in your literary notice, that Mr. Walker intends to give an account of them in his promised work on the revival of the Drama in Italy. I. G. SCARCE TRACTS, WITH EXTRACTS AND ANALYSES OF SCARCE BOOKS. It is proposed in future to devote a few Pages of the Monthly Magazine to the Insertion of such Scarce Tracts as are of an interesting Nature, with the Use of which we may be favoured by our Correspondents; and under the same Head to introduce also the Analyses of Scarce and Curious Books. "Fumifugium; or the Inconvenience of the Aer and Smoak of London dissipated: together with some Remedies humbly proposed. By J. E. esq. 1661," 4to. N this invective against the smoke of I London, Evelyn not only projects to purify the city from this domestic enemy, peculiar to itself, but with an exuberance of fanciful ingenuity, to draw a circle round it of an enchanting Elysium. The vastucss of the present metropolis, he seems not with "a prophetic eye" to have contemplated. The patriotism of his posterity has honourably performed their duties, and the splendour of the metropolis has been carried on with a civic affection. He has a noble paragraph to the ho. nour of those who study the improvements of a city. "Medails and inscrip tions have heretofore preserved the fame of less public benefits; and for the repairing of a dilapidated bridge, a de caied aqueduct, the paving of a way, or draining a foggy marsh, their elogies or reverses, have outlasted the marbles, and been transmitted to futurge ages, after so many thousand revolutions." His querulous invective against the smoke of London, is minutely entertaining; and those who, through long use, ima gine they live comfortably beneath this shelter of fog, smoke, and dust, will scarcely comprehend the dangers of that open curtain which wraps them round. The late Charles Fox used to say, that a country life was the pleasantest in the world, but that it played the very devil with the constitution." There are, it would seem, constitutions so vitiated by habit, that they can only hang t gether gether by breathing a manufactured air; a change of climate, a pure bracing breeze would shiver them into atoms. But Evelyn attributes to this smoak our expectorations, our rheumatisms, and our consumptions, "which rage more in this city than in all Europe besides." "Frequently do we hear men say, speaking of some deceased neighbour, He went up to London, and took a great cold, which he could never afterwards claw off again. He observes on the smoak, or the fuliginous crust yearly contracted, which adheres to the side of our chimnies where this great fuel of sea-coal is used, that if we imagine a solid tentorium or canopy over London, what a mass of soote would then stick to it, which now comes down every night in the streets on our houses, the waters, and is taken into our bodies. He traces its effects in our chambers on the earth; and observes that "in the waters it leaves a thin web, or pellicle of dust, dancing upon the surface of it, as those who bathe in the Thames discern and bring home on their bodies; while it sticks on the hands, face, and linen, of our fair ladies, and nicer dames, who reside constantly in London, (especially during winter) as the prodigieus waste of almond-powder for the one, soap and wearing out of the other, do sufficiently manifest." His majesty (Charles II.) who was a lover of buildings, pictures, and gardens, &c. had long beheld it as a prodigious enemy to their lustre and beauty. Evelyn gives a curious piece of information: he had heard in France, that those parts lying south west of England, complain of being infested with smoak from our coasts, which injured the vines in flower! He observes further, "respecting the chandlers and butchers, that because of those horrid stinks and unwholesome smells which proceed from the tallow and corrupted blood, no cattle shouldbe killed within the city, by which means also might be avoided the driving of cattle through the streets, a great inconvenience and some danger. The Lcr Carnaria of the Romans, forbid butchers to have their slaughter-house within the walls; and Erasinus says, malunt habere Vicinos decem Lenones quam unum Lenionem, they would rather dwell near ten bawds than one butcher." The remedy he proposes is the removal of those offensive trades who use great quantities of coal, "which, in no city of Europe would be permitted," to farther distances; such as brewers, tallow-chandlers, smiths, &c. and he proposes to place them at the utmost extremity of the river-side, employing watermen for the carriage of their ar ticles. After having purified the air, he would next convert the city into an elysium, by continuing his majesty's plan of plantations in the moist grounds about the town. This could only have been practicable in Evelyn's time, when there were cottages opposite to Whitehall. is flowery project amuses the fancy. He has enumerated a catalogue of native plants, familiar to our country and clime, "whose redolent and agreable emissions would even ravish our senses, as well as perfectly improve the aer about London.” One of his favourite plants is rosemary, “the flowers whereof are reported to give their scent many leagues off at sea, on the coasts of Spain. Those who take notice of the scent of the orange-flowers from the rivage of Genoa, or the odori ferous wafts which flow from Fontenay and Vaugirard even to Paris, in the season of roses, will consent to what I suggest; that is, to the liberal production of such things, as upon every gentle emission through the aer, should so perfume the adjacent places with their breath, as if, by a certain charm, or innocent magic, they were transferred to the happy Arabia." Such was the amiable project of the patriot and the enthusiast, to render this city one of the sweetest and most delicious habitations on the earth! And surely if we cannot have these gardens of fancy, we might at least push on his great enemies, the brewers, the smiths, and the dyers, higher up by the river-side, otherwise we must still regret the ab sence of what this good man promises→→ "the skie fair, and the aer in good temper." Extracts Extracts from the Portfolio of a Man of Letters. CATALOGUE. Persons of wild taste 15 40 13 15 10 5 Shenstone, who piqued himself on the refinement of his taste, manifestly endeavours here to represent as the most select class, that in which he excelled. An accomplished taste is a gift of edu. cation rather than of nature: in rich luxurious communities it is more common than in poorer; in old countries, more common than in newer; in pacific ages, more common than in turbulent times. But the proportion of wits and fools, being a gift of nature, not of cir cumstance, remains invariably the same; and is surely not so considerable as Shen. stone assumes. Pedantry is one form of taste; the pedants are of those who pursue accomplishments of mind, with out being under the guidance of a strong judgment. Common sense is necessa rily the lot of a majority of every civilized society; because men call common sense that way of thinking and acting, in which the majority are agreed. The list then should be reformed some what thus: Persons of common sense Fools Wits 55 10 10 25 Disputes have often arisen among the learned, respecting the neatest subdivision of heads in a catalogue of books. Lambecius, Mattaire, and Maichaud, followed distinct systems. Martin, the librarian of Paris, prefixed to his catalogue an original plan of distribution: his five chief heads are, Theology, Juris prudence, Arts and Sciences, Fine Liners, literature, and art. terature, and History. His subdivisions are numerous and indistinct, as well as his main divisions. Among persons of this last description, a majority must always fall short of good taste; because men are agreed to call by. the name refinement, or good taste, that which meets the approbation of the se lect few, of the picked critics in man All these schemes of distribution seem to have been made a priori: a surer road to convenient arrangement would be, to begin a posteriori with a number of heads proportioned to the mass of books to be arranged, and then to throw together the topics which produced too few, and to EPIGRAM. Menage praises this epigram on a starý gazer, who stumbled and fell: Qui fuit astrologus, tunc geometra fuit. JOHN PETER DRIESS. J. P. Driess was born about the year 1740, and educated at the celebrated seminary of Joachims-thal. His rela tions destined him for the ecclesiastical profession, profession, and he made a progress in classical acquirements, commensurate with their solicitude. But his curiosity strayed into bolder investigations than were suited to his intended employment; and by the study of Brucker's History of Philosophy, Bayle's Dictionary, and Spinoza's works, he attained a state of mind which indisposed him to conformity. When the time for decision arrived, he declined stooping to ordination. His family, who could with difficulty afford the expense of his education, progressively withdrew their assistance; but confident in his intellectual resources, he expected a liberal maintenance by writing for the booksellers at Berlin. His earlier literary efforts were anony. mous, and concealed in various periodical publications; at length he advertised a dissertation on the propriety of abolishing public prayer. He contended, that it was absurd to suppose the laws of nature would be suspended for the contradictory requests of men; and that if prayer was notoriously fruitless, there was little sense in continuing the symphony. The book was reviewed, abused as atheistical, and the poor author, out of employ, fell into extreme want, On the 14th of January, 1774, being then about five and thirty, he attempted to destroy himself with a pen-knife; but, not succeeding, he determined on the slower process of voluntarily starving himself. Mendelsohn, Hagen, Nicolai, and other humane men, visited him, and endeavoured to awaken the love of life. Independence, or insanity, gave a frank ness to his discourse, which enabled them to succeed. They induced prince Henry of Prussia to leave his card, and carried word to poor Driess, that he might be appointed lecturer to his royal Highness. Driess now accepted nourishment, and recovered. Prince Henry allotted him a stipend; and indicated certain days for his attendance in the library. Life had again charms, while the dream of ambi. tion could endure. He went in new clothes to thank Mendelsohn for his kindness, and to consult him about winning further trophies from superstition. The humanity of the prince had given an audience, but intended no acquain tance. The next work of Driess, which defended suicide, was as unpopular as the last. Another attack of hypochon driasis came on, which necessitated his removal to a public mad-house, where he beat out his brains against the wall for want of any implement of destruction. Free-thinking has its martyrs as well as superstition, and this was one of them. ORIGINAL LETTERS. MRS, MONTAGUE to LORD KAIMES. Sandleford, October 27th, 1773. MY LORD, WITH ITH the history of man, I dare say, your lordship has written the history of woman. I beg that, in specifying their characters, you would take notice, that time and separation do not operate on the female heart as they do on that of the male. We need not go back so far as the time of Ulysses and Penelope, to prove this. We may pass over the instances of his dalliance with the sole suitor that addressed him, the lovely Calypso, and the constant Penelope's continued disdain of the whole train of pertinacious wooers. The more near and recent an example is the better; so my lord we will take our own times. You feel, you say, when you take up your pen to write to me, the same formality as on our first acquaintance. I on the contrary find, that my MONTHLY Mao. No, 206, Confidence in you has had time to take root. A long winter cannot blast, dreary seasons cannot wither, it. Under its shadow I am protected from any appre hensions from your genius and learning. You appear to me in no character but that of my friend, and in the sacred character of my old friend. The years of absence, the months of vacation, in our correspondence come into the account, for I remembered you when I did not hear from you, I thought of, when I did not see, you. Esteem, nursed by faithful remembrance, grew up without intermission. I am most sincerely rejoiced that your lordship has completed your great work. May you long enjoy the fame, and may you see mankind derive advantage as well as pleasure from your labour. The more man understands himself, the less averse will he be to those divine and hu man laws that restrain his licentious ap SK petites petites. It is from ignorance of his nature that he misapprehends his interest: not comprehending how he is made, he disputes the will of his Maker. i am impatient for the publication of your book, and hope your printer will make all possible haste to indulge us with it. I rejoice that it has pleased God to give you life and health to finish this work; and I flatter myself, though you may not again embark in so great an undertaking, that so able a pen will not be consigned to indolent repose. As to my poor goose-quill, it is not much to be regretted that, very probably, it will scribble no more. I have neither the force of good health, nor the presumption of good spirits, left to animate me, and without the energy of great talents, these are necessary to the task of undertaking something for the public. I have been for many months teazed with a slow fever; and the loss of my excellent friend lord Lyttelton, has cast a cloud over my mind. I remember, sir William Temple says, in one of his essays, that "when he recollects how many excellent men and amiable women have died before him, he is ashamed of being alive." With much more reason than sir William (whose merit was equal to that of any of the friends he survived) I feel this very strongly. I have lived in the most intimate commexion with some of the highest characters of the age. They are gone, and I remain: all that adorned me is taken away, and only a eypress wreath is left. I used to borrow Lustre from them, but now I seem respectable, even in my own eyes, only as the mourner of departed merit. I agree with your lordship, that I ought not to lament the death of lord Lyttleton on his own account, His virtue could not have been more perfect in this mortal state, nor his character greater than it was, with all whose praise could be an object to a wise and worthy man. He now reaps the full reward of those vi tues, which, when here, though they gave him a tranquil cheerfulness amidst many vexations, and the sufferings of sickness, yet could not produce a perfect calm to the wounds inflicted on his pa-ternal affection. When I consider how unhappy, his former, how blessed his present, state, I am ashamed to lament him. The world has lost the best example, modest merit the best protector, mankind its gentlest friend. My loss is unspeak able; but as the friendship of such a man is the best gift of God, and I am sensible that I was never deserving of so great a blessing, I ought rather, to offer thanks that it was so long bestowed, than to re pine that it was taken away. I ought also to beg that, by the remembrance of his precepts and example, I may derive the same helps to doing my duty in all relations of life, and in all social engage ments, that I did from his advice. But virtue never speaks with such persuasion as when she borrows the accents of a friend; moreover, my time in this world will probably be very short, and if it were long, I could never cease to adatire so perfect a pattern of goodness. I am ever, My lord, &c. &c. ELIZABETH MONTAGU |
