But, without entering into this argument, which, in the very worst constituted charities, can apply but partially, there are some at least, such as hospitals and dispensaries, that do not appear to be at all liable to such censure. It can not be imagined that any person could act so absurd a part as to counterfeit sickness to obtain gratis a medicinal drug; or, if he could avoid it, would choose to be removed from his comfort. able home, to be inclosed among strangers in the abodes of disease. These medical charities are so extensive, that, great as is the population of London, poor applicants are hardly ever refused assistance. In this respect they are not to be paralleled; although, in one very capital circumstance, we must, it seems, temper our admiration. In their internal regulation, the utmost exertion certainly is not practised. There must be somehow a deficiency in the main purpose for which they were intended. Such a suspicion would never have occurred, had not indisputable experience taught us the possibility of better management. I have in view the Infirmary at Edinburgh, which, at all times since its erection, has sent out a much greater number of cured than any of the London hospitals. This appears rather unac countable, as the skill of the medical men in both places is equal, and in none are they confined by any improper regulations of the founders or governors; but, in all cases, the utmost freedom is allowed to follow that regimen which may prove most conducive to the health of the patients. As circumstances do not differ, I ask, why should there be any difference in the number of cured? Surely, if diligence and attention, in all respects, were equal, their good effects would be found similar. We are then, I think, forced to conclude, that, in the London hospitals there are faults, and faults too that might be avoided. As the whole of my information on the subject is confined to the mere statement of the disproportion of cures, I cannot be supposed to make any particular or personal references. I never visited any of these receptacles of disease, nor have I the slightest knowledge of those who have the management of them. I da not mention this, however, by way of apology, for, when one speaks from the positive testimony of facts, it is altoge ther unnecessary to be timidly scrupulous. Is it a proper occasion to indulge in ceremony when health and life are at stake? Can we suppress our sympathy when we reflect on the helpless poor groaning under pain, and, at the same time, conscious of receiving gratuitous attentions, unwilling to murmur or expostulate? I am not sufficiently acquainted with the peculiar practices of the Edinburgh and London hospitals, as to be able to point out the causes of such different results, Some time ago I entered into conversation on this subject with a very ingenious person, who had resided many years in Edinburgh, and he gave me the following explanation, which, though it appears plausible, was to me rather unexpected: That, as far as he understood, the du ties of the Infirmary at Edinburgh were performed by all the physicians and surgeons there in rotation; this circumstance caused that publicity in all its transactions, which naturally inspired more anxious exertions and a greater ambition to excel; that, in a place of this size, the principal things, in some degree, come under the inspection of all; and that, in fine, the northern metropolis is famous for a spirit of conversation and critical knowledge of public matters, which renders all noted characters, medical men particularly, more than usually responsible to public opinion, and, consequently, extremely cautious, circumspect, and attentive." To some people this may appear a far-fetched speculation; but those who have bestowed a close attention to human nature, will be deeply sensible, that, where interest is not concerned, without some very strong exter nal spur, it is apt to relax in its exertions, It will not, I hope, be suspected, from these remarks, that I have any wish to depreciate, or that I am insensible to the general merits of the London medical charities, and of the immense labors which they daily perform in the service of humanity. That they are susceptible of improvement, in some respect or other, is what I am obliged to assert, from the knowledge of a fact which cannot be. controverted or otherwise understood. At the same time I readily confess, that whatever whatever I have heard of them from those who have been patients, or others, bas all been of a favorable nature; from which, no doubt, I ought to conclude, that they are, upon the whole, well managed; but that the Infirmary at Edinburgh must be carried to a high degree of perfection-a perfection surely not unattainable.* There are two celebrated charities in London, the Foundling and Christ's Hospital, which, it must be confessed, are more fiable to be abused by the public than the medical ones. The fault, however, does not lie so much with the public, as in the nature of the charities themselves, which present temptations too great to be resisted even by the opulent. The favors which they confer are by far too splendid to be ranked among those of an eleemosynary kind. To keep and educate an individual for a period of seven years, to many persons may be equal in value to the sum of 500l. a present too magnificent to be conferred merely as an alms on the poor. In disposing of so important a concern, other feelings beside those of pity occupy the mind. When we can easily command the esteem and gratitude of persons of consequence, with whom perhaps we may be proud to be connected, can it be expected that, from conscientious motives alone, we should give a preference to mean and obscure people, whose poverty is their only recommendation, and whose good opinion or gratitude is held in no estimation? Such a fancy will hardly be entertained by the most visionary theorist. Accordingly, as far as my knowledge of them extends, these charities, if not in some respect noxious, are, in regard of relieving the poor, almost totally useless. They appear to answer no other purposethan to confer on certain gentlemen the power of patronage, and the pleasure of being solicited. The means by which this much wishedfor perfection may be obtained is no secret, and may, if we choose, be very easily known. In much lesser matters a more active desire for information is often displayed. Were it suspected that there was any where an art practised, by which a particular manufacture might be improved, how eagerly would it be sought after and adopted! But, as no art can equal that of preserving life, the distinguishing regulations of the Edinburgh Infirmary ought to be well known and studied. The comparative want of success in the London hospitals, may perhaps be owing to a defici. ency in the inferior attentions, which, in most diseases, assists nature in its efforts towards recovery more powerfully than medicine it self. It was by directing his chief study to these, without any medical novelties, that the late Dr. Buchan diminished, by more than one-half, the deaths of the children of that large branch of the Foundling Hospital once established at Ackworth. I imagine that there are very few realfoundlings in that well-known hospital intended for their reception.† Found lings are invariably taken charge of by their respective parishes, and I never heard of a poor parish eased of its foundlings by this institution. Upon tolerably good grounds, I conjecture, that they are generally the unlawful offspring of ladies where secrecy is much wanted, or of gentlemen who have sufficient interest. They thus not only obtain the advantage of secrecy, but also the important one of completely disburthening themselves of the charge of rearing their own children. I have no doubt but that the consideration of such a convenient riddance, is sometimes an inducement with gentlemen to be less scrupulous in debauching their maids. Lately, a young woman in this situation of life being pregnant, her friends were told that the father had in terest enough to get the child admitted into the Foundling. In a similar case, the father's interest was not able to accomplish this till the child was eight months old. Lastly, a gentleman in the neighbourhood of Cheapside, having a child by his servant, at first resolved to allow the mother a weekly pension to rear the boy; but, growing weary of the perpetual expense, he had him conveyed to this hospital at the age of eighteen months. I Christ's Hospital, commonly called the Blue-coat School, is somewhat notorious> for disregard of its original and avowed intention-affording relief to the poor. At their entrance, no doubt, they are. all denominated Foundlings; they are professed or pretended foundlings, in the same manner as those admitted into Christ's Hos pital are all supposed poor, though few of them are actually so. I confess, however, that my knowledge on this subject is but scanty, and I speak with some hesitation." The public have a right to be better informed of what are generally the recommendatory qualities of the objects of admission into the Foundling; some account also ought to be given of those actually admitted, and from what quarter they came. For my own part, I should be very well pleased to be found, in a mistake. In this last instance it was not, I believe, effected without a donation în money. If If any proper objects are admitted, it is altogether by accident. There is no go. vernor that has any candor will deny, that interest, not poverty, is the prime motive of admission. Any person who would choose to give himself the trouble of inquiry, will soon be convinced that this is not a rash assertion. I never my self went out of my way to inquire; but in the ten or twelve instances which accidentally occurred to my observation in the course of life, none had any pretensions to poverty, and indeed (except for form's sake at the time of making application) would have been affronted had they been called poor people. To describe them all, would be tedious and disagreeable; one case, however, deserves particular notice:~A tradesman, in the west end of the town, who had long struggled with poverty, was at last patronized by a relation of his wife, by whose influence his business was enlarged. He now began to lift up his head, and aspire to gentility. He dismissed his lodgers, whom he formerly found necessary to assist him in paying his rent, and took out a hair-powder licence. Among other schemes of elevating his grandeur, he rid himself of the charge of one of his sons, by devolving it on the funds of Christ's Hospital; and he talks loudly of having sufficient inte rest to dispose of another in the same way. In his adversity, when his claims in justice ought to have been stronger, be durst not to have indulged such presumptuous expectations. In the present state of matters, it will not be easy to find a remedy against such flagrant robbery of the poor. It is certain, that, when the advantages of charity are so great as to overbalance its disgrace, as is the case with the Found. ling and Christ's Hospital, it will always be sought after and obtained by the most powerful. Were the advantages which every individual received sinall, were the funds diffused over a wider surface, there would be no danger of their misapplication. Those well-managed institutions, the parochial charity-schools for instance, where the sole gratuity is education and clothes, are disdained even by people in moderate circumstances; and, consequent Jy, are left wholly to their proper objects: no shameless intruder is here seen, accompanied by his great friends, to overawe the helpless poor, and to jostle him out of his rights. Were the revenues of Christ's Hospital managed with equal judgment, or according to the excellent economical plan of Lancaster, instead of educating 400 children of the supposed poor, their benign influence might be extended to almost all the real poor of London: by which many thousand worthy parents might be happily relieved, and society at large farther advanced in humanity and civilization. To such a proposal little attention, I know, is to be expected. Governors of these institutions are continually thinking of their own importance, and at all times display a childish antipathy to every plan of improvement which has mere utility in view, unless at the same time it tend to their aggrandizement; the idea of a great charity-school, although it might obtain the applause of the rational philanthropist, would sound meanly in vulgar ears. Such, however, is human nature, and such the state of the world, that, if charity be not degraded to its proper level, so as to be of importance to the truly necessitous only, it will never attain its end, or answer any good purpose. But, if such a diffusion of benefits may seem too great a departure from the ori ginal scheme of such hospitals, something surely might be devised to prevent their prime intention of relieving the poor from being almost wholly thwarted. A certain distinct class, or those who have suf fered some particular definite misfortune, should be the determinate objects, so as to render it impossible on every occasion, as at present, to miss the really destitute. Suppose, for example, that the one half, or even the whole, of the infants admitted into the Foundling, and of boys admitted into Christ's Hospital, in time of war, belong to officers killed in the service of their country, and, in default of these, of the common soldiers who have met the same fate; and, in time of peace, of the same class of men. None, I think, could grudge such a distribution of charity; the pecuniary advantages of the military profession are generally few, while its hardships and miseries are always many. I cannot conclude without expressing my surprise, that there should have been more royal foundations for charitable purposes in former rude ages that in later times, with all our pretensions to superior humanity and civilization. The British Government might, I think, without any great inconveniency, find opportu nities of oftener sympathizing with the poor laborious classes, Hospitals for the cure of the diseased poor, which, as was formerly observed, are hardly capable of being abused, ought to be more encouraged, and in some instances endowed, by Government. Such a grant, therefore, to the London and Middlesex Hospitals, whose funds, I believe, are defective, as 20,000l.to each, would be an action the most worthy of a wise and patriotic Minister. The same sum could not possibly be applied for the real good of the people more certainly or more extensive Iv. Mere protection should not be a Minister's sole study, he ought also to view the people with sentiments of benevolence, and attempt to alleviate their miseries, and, as much as possible, to add to their comforts. As all originates from the people, why should not some small streams be made to flow back to promote their happiness? A common place politician, in whose system pity has no part, will deride these notions as weak and absurd; he will soar above such easy and well-known principles of humanity; and, with a bolder and more extensive stretch of thought, might imagine with the late Mr. Pitt, that twenty millions passing through the hands of the Emperor of Germany would, at last, more effectually promote the welfare of the people, than twenty thousand in the above manner. Many persons have fondly expected to behold an epoch in political morality, from the well-known goodness of the Prince Regent; and, though there may be danger of forming extravagant expectations, yet, surely, there is some reason to indulge hope. Since his accession to power, his situation, in one point of view, has been difficult; but, I think, judging with candor, may be pronounced laudable. In abolishing old, useless, and pernicious customs and institutions, and in promoting new plans of benevolence, much may be effected by his constitutional authority, and much by his personal influence. Bedford-row, May 6, 1812. W. N. nually rekindling the flames of war on the continent. I certainly, when I read this paper, thought that the whole context, and all the circumstances, affixed to it one con struction, which was, that the inter. ference of France with respect to Spain and Portugal should be withdrawn, and those nations left to their own govern ment; the foreign troops which have entered them to be removed on both sides out of those countries, as the necessary result of their independance thus acknowledged. And, if this were as I conceived it, and still conceive it, to be, the natural sense of the proposal, it did, and it does, appear to me, that a basis of peace was thus offered, unexceptionably comprehensive, firm, and honorable; and that any ministry by whom it is rejected must be deeply responsible to their country and mankind; since, if interminable war be not intended, there could not be a fairer or more ample prospect of peace within the reach of hope, or of any rea Souable imagination. The natural answer, and it should seem the only one possible to have been given, to such an offer, would have been, that, considering by this offer both Spain and Portugal as recognised independent, our government is happy in receiving this overture of the French government; by which the cause of war would be done away as to those nations, and their reign. ing families and constitutions, as they were before the war, re-established in peace and security; all foreign force withdrawn; and the relations of amity between Britain and France, capa ble of being adjusted consistently with our engagements to our allies, and all other subordinate particulars discussed and amicably arranged. That, therefore, without delay, we should communicate to our allies the proposal made to us; trusting that, in concert with them, a negotiation, opened and carried on upon such a basis, would terminate in a peace, the permanence of which would be secured by the particular and common interests of all the parties. Something substantially of this kind, which diplomatic experience would reduce to the proper terms, seems to have been obviously and strikingly dictated by the nature of the offer aud the circum By an answer of this nature (as much better expressed as any one pleases), be it admitted that there is some ambiguity in that part of the proposal respecting Spain, an explanation would have been secured to us, consisting either in the adoption of our sense of the terms, courteously, liberally, and with dignity, stated, or in an avowal of the sense impated to them; and all prejudices to our interests and the general interests, from any misunderstanding, would have been avoided. At the same time it appeared to me from the first, and now, that, as all foreign force was proposed to be withdrawn, and Spain to be governed by a national constitution of her Cortes, and the independence and integrity of Portugal also to be guaranteed, and the house of Braganza to have the sovereign authority. Whatever dynasty might otherwise have meant, (dynasty properly meaning nothing more than a power or government, Aurasɛia,) I must that he has inadvertently lent his sanc tion to an unnecessary, irritating, and, as it seems to be, forced, construction of the French proposal for peace. If that construction was right, we might have so answered as to shew that we did not would he guarded but not provoke; and seek an hostile interpretation; that we have dignified, answer would lead to it. We peace if a pacifie, but explicit and now have war continued, extended, and aggravated, when, for aught that had peace, and to have given it to the Irar it have rested with ourselves to have appears, may rassed world on most satisfactory terms. Aug. 7th, 1812. Troston Hall, CAPEL LOFFT. "sextant" read "septant," for " pergatilla" ERRATA in p. 25, of this volume, for read "pulsatilla.” To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine. be taken here to mean the Sple S nish reigning family supported by the Cortes; as it means in the corresponding part the Portuguese reigning family. And, what is most of all, once remove all foreign coercion, and leave her independent to her own government, Spain could have nothing but, as other independent nations, of her own choice, adoption, or acquiescence. Whether the word also be aussi or de même, in the original, the import of that word, in such place and connection, and of the whole sentence and circumstances, appears to leave scarcely the possibility of any other sense than that which at all events we might safely and beneficially have declared to be our interpretation. But, on the 22d of April, the day be fore the answer given by our government, the Emperor of Russia began his march, the answer and that march may explain each other; both, I fear, the source of unnumbered woes to us and to Russia. -Quian' auxilio juvat ante levatos ? —— Have the former war coalitions been so propitious to us and to Russia as to encourage the hazarding of this last? I sincerely respect Mr. Sheridan, and have a high sentiment of his genius, experience, and political knowledge and public spirit. I cannot believe that he has in a moment, thrown away years of pure patriotic glory, and knowingly made any unworthy sacrifice to personal motives of the immense and probably irretrievable interests which this question involves. But I grieve, notwithstanding, to think SINC SIR, INCE I drew пр that were so obliging as to insert in your Ma paper upon the Equilibrium of Arches, which you gazine for May last, I have seen another Tract upon the same subject, by a Mr. Ware, architect, London, which, although published previous to Mr. Gwilt's, did not fall within my observation until lately. lification as an author, except a knowMr. Ware seems to possess every qua. ledge of the subject he has treated upon; but in that he seems to me to be very de ficient, therefore to point out this deficiency, and to supply the defect, is the immediate purport of this paper. By referring to the Tract, sect. 1, prop. v. and sect. 2, prop. vi. it will be seen, than the augmentation of the length, and that this author's equilibrium is no other consequently the area and weight of the voussoirs, from the vertex downward, so as to be sufficient to counteract the resistance of the inclined plane, formed by the radii of curvature and the horizon, those augmented lengths being no other than the secants of an arch, whose radius is the length of the voussoir at the vertex, commonly denominated the keystone. complete, while the arch is supported by I readily admit that this equilibrium is as it equalizes the pressure of those vousthe centring, upon which it was formed, soirs in the direction of their radii upoa that centring; but, when the same is re moved, and the arch left to rest only upon the abutments, then the pendent part thereof, or that directly over the space between those abutments, will gra vitale, |