ASTRONOMICAL ANTICIPATIONS. The present month is remarkable for the occurrence of several very curious celestial phæno mena. The change, or new moon, will be on the 14th, at 564 minutes past seveni, in the evening; and the opposition, or full moon, on the morning of the 30th, at 19 minutes before one. On the morning of the 4th, there will be an occultation by the moon of the v, a star of the fourth magnitude in the constellation of the scorpion. The immersion will take place at the bright edge of the moon, at 34 minutes past two, apparent time; and the emersion will be at the dark edge of the moon 1h. 12m. afterwards. At the commencement of the phænomenon, the star will be 3 minutes, and at the end 24 minutes, to the south of the moon's centre. At the time of the above occultation, a well-regulated clock will be 3m. 139. before a true sun dial. On the 14th, there will be a return of the visible solar eclipse of April 3, 1791; but hap pening, this month, in the night-time, it will, of course, be invisible to Great Britain. This eclipse will be central and annular, at noon day, corresponding to our 35 minutes past eight, evening, in that part of the globe having 74 degrees north latitude, and 128°59' west longi. tude from Greenwich. There will not be a return of the above eclipse visible in Britain, be fore May 6, 1845. On the 29th will take place a notable eclipse of the moon, visible from beginning to end to Great Britain. The circumstances of the eclipse will be as below: Meridian of the Royal Observatory at Greenwich. Apparent Time. 11h. 5m. 28s. night 12 35 30 Beginning of the Eclipse, Clock Time. 11h. 2m. 37s. night 12 32 29 12 41 3 End of the Eclipse, April 30, 2 2 41 morn. 2 5 32 morn. Middle Ecliptic Opposition Digits eclipsed on moon's south limb, 10°29′43′′. This is the largest eclipse of the moon that will happen before the great total one of Febru ary 15, 1812; for at the time of the greatest obscuration not less than seven-eights of the lunar disk will be immerged into the earth's shadow. Mercury will be in his aphelion, and at his greatest maritine elongation, on the 1st, when his angular distance from the sun will not be less than 27°45', a quantity very rarely exceeded by this planet. But the great rapidity with which 28 degrees of the sign Pisces, where the planet is, rises, will prevent his being seen at all with the naked eye in our high northern latitude. Venus will appear remarkably bright and splendid this month. On the 1st, her angular distance from the sun will will be 44°39'; on the 15th, 40°35′, and on the 30th, 31°7. The time of her greatest apparent illumination, as it respects the earth, will be on the 18th,when the planet's elongation from the sun is 39°15', according to the theorem of the great Dr. Halley. She may be seen this month with the naked eye in the middle of the afternoon, long before sun-set. On the 2d this beautiful planet will make a fine appearance among that remarkable group of faint stars in the neck of the bull, commonly known by the name of the seven stars, and by the ancients named Pléiades, from their supposed rainy influence on our globe. If it be a clear evening, she will be seen very nearly in conjunction with the n, of the third magnitude, the brightest of the seven. The conjunction taking place on the morning of the 3d, at about three quarters past our three o'clock, long after the planet is set, will consequently be invisible to Great Britain. Throughout the month Venus will not set till after eleven. Mars will be up the greater part of the night. On the morning of the 9th, at our half-past one, he will be in opposition to the sun, at which time he is nearest to our earth, and consequently appears the brightest. On the morning of the 1st he will come into conjunction with the Virgin's spike, a star of the 1st magnitude, when the planet will be 4° 38' to the north; and on the 17th he will he in con junction with the & in the Virgin, when their difference of latitude will be only 20 minutes of a degree, the star being to the south. Jupiter will be up in the mornings; but on account of the sun rising soon after him throughout the month, he will not be seen at all by the naked eye. Saturn will be still a morning-star. On the night of the 1st, he rises at one minute past eleven; in the evening of the 15th, at six minutes past ten; and in the evening of the 30th, at six minutes past nine. In this month he will be found in that part of the zodiac, which lies between 3 and 4 degrees of the sign Sagittarius. The Georgium Sidus will be up almost the whole night. On the morning of the 28th, at nine, he will be in upposition to the sun. On the 1st, the difference of longitude of this planet and the a Libra, will be 3o 41'; on the 15th, 4o5; and on the 30th, 4° 52′; the planet in all three cases being about seven minutes to the north of the star. Erratum-In the Astronomical Anticipations for March, TO CORRESPONDENTS. If the gentleman, under the signature Salam in the Monthly Magazine for March, will send a note to Mr. Meyler, next to the pump room at Bath, addressed to T. C. he shall receive every information concerning the subject of his enquiry. The Plate announced in the Paner of the Dilletanti Turiet not babes MONTHLY MAGAZINE. No. 184.] MAY 1, 1809. [4 of VOL. 27. "As long as thofe who write are ambitious of making Converts, and of giving to their Opinions a Maximum of "Influence and Celebrity, the most extenfively circulated Mifcellany will repay with the greatest Effect the Curiofity of those who read either for Amufement or Inarution."-JOHNSON. ORIGINAL COMMUNICATIONS. For the Monthly Magazine. LETTER IV.-ON TEA. Nec vero terræ ferre omnes omnia possunt: FTER the subject of tea had been A introduced into your twenty-fifth Some account of coffee has been introduced into your miscellany, vol. xxvii. page 23; and by Capel Lofft, esq. p. 28. In a subsequent nuinber I may presume to trouble you with a few additional remarks upon it, which will probably be the last letter on these beautiful everTSJAA-PHILUS. greens, from London, March 18, 1809. BOTANICAL DESCRIPTION. ORDER 1. POLYANDRIA The CALTY.-Perianthium quinque-par- The COROLLA.-The Petals six, subro Among some hundred specimens of tea- tund, or roundish, concave : two exterior, less, The STAMINA.-The Filaments nume The PISTIL. The Germen, three globular open, increase in length, and wither on the The Stigmas simple. The PERICARPIUM.-A Capsule, in the form of three globular bodies united, trilocular, gaping at the top in three directions. The SEEDS.-Simple, globose, angular on the inward side. The TRUNK.+-Ramose, ligneous, round, the branches alternate, vague, or placed in no colour, towards the top reddish. regular order, stiffish, inclining to an asha The PEDUNCLES.-Axillary, alternate single, curved, uniflorous, in crassate, the peduncles encreafing in thickness, stipulate, the stipula single, subulate, crest alternate, elliptical, obtusely serrate, edges between the teeth recurvate.f The LEAVES.-Apex emarginate, at the ternally three lesser ones of the same form; however, the number in the flowers vary considerably, which may account for the described this plant on Dr. Hill's authority,) mistake of Dr. Hill and Linnæus, (who who make the green and bohea tea two dis tinct species, giving nine petals to the for mer, and six to the latter.-See Ameen. Acad. v. vii, p. 248. Hil, Exot. i, 22. Kampfer. Amanitat. Exet. p. 607. Breyn. Exot. Plant. Cent. i. p. 3. Hist. de l'Acad. des Scien. 1776. p. 52. * From 250 to 500. + Authors differ much as to the size of the tea-tree. See Le Compt, Lond. 1697, 8vo. p. 228, Du Halde, Descr. Générale de la Chine, Paris, 1755, fol. 4 tom. Lond. 17.36, 8vo. vol. 4, p. 22. Guil. Pise; in Itin. Bras. Aman, Osbeck's Exot. Lemgoia, 1712, 8vo. p. 605. China, vol. 1, p. 247. Eckelerg's Account of the Chinese Husbandry, vol. 2, p. 393. No author hitherto has remarked this obvious circumstance; even Kampfer himself says, that the leaves terminate in a point. Aman, Exoi, page 611. base 1 For the Monthly Magazine. THE ENQUIRER.-No. XXVII, Tu quid ego, et mecum populus quid sentiat, auði. tion of the British Institution to the state For this purpose it will, first, be necessary to distinguish the beneficent and liberal zeal of the promoters and directors of that establishment, from the plans which have been formed for the purposes they desired to accomplish; and, again, to distinguish those plans, originally formed in consequence of their wishes and designs, from the subsequent execution of them, as far, at least, as it has hitherto taken place. Concerning the original design of the institution, it will be at once sufficient to ask, for what but noble purposes could a combination be formed of the most opulent, elevated, and illustrious characters in the kingdom? with what but the most liberal view's could they direct their attention to arts, with which they had scarcely any other acquaintance, than from the cries and complainings of their professors? what but the most genuine benevolence could incline them to assume the troublesome office of agents, for the artists, with the public, and to become the almost gratuitous publishers of their works? and,what but the most highly disinterested motives could draw from their superfluous wealth, (so long assigned to different channels) the prices of pictures, which, exclusively of When the upper surface of the leaf ses in several places in roundish swellings, hollow underneath. intrinsic merit, derived their principal recommendation from having formed a part of the good work which they patronized? The patriotic intentions, therefore, of the original institutors are beyond all question: they cannot be doubted for an instant. With regard to the plans of the institution, somewhat more of uncertainty appears on the surface. It was not, for a time, so clearly ascertained, whether these were laid with a view to excite the enthusiasm of genius, and elevate the pretensions of a great nation in the arts, or whether they took for their object the more numerous and ordinary branches of art, and were designed principally to advance the useful improvement of our furniture and pottery. This ambiguity arose chiefly from the different times, publickly announced both prospectuses of the institution, which, at the designs above-mentioned; but as, in the progress of the scheme the former has been regularly professed to be predomi nant, it is with reference to that point of view only, that it can be proper to proceed in an enquiry into the effects likely to result from the undertaking: nor would it be fit even for this to take place without premising a wish on the part of the enqui rer, to be fully understood as not in the slightest degree undervaluing the laudable efforts of the British Institution, but as cordially and earnestly desiring its ascent to the highest accomplishment of its pur poses. The mode, or rather, to speak with more fairness, the degree in which the extensive desires of the directors and subscribers have been actually carried into execution, with the advantages hitherto offered to the exhibitors and students, have been already shewn, in the former part of this enquiry, to consist of the sale of pictures, rewards for imitation of the works of great masters, and opportunities of copying those works. Of these three points, the last-mentioned is, in its general design, truly laudable: a collection of pictures by the greatest masters of the art being a necessary part of the foundation of a school of painting. But the late restrictions laid on the students, whereby they are forbidden to copy more than parts of the pictures pla ced before them for their study, are, it must be confessed, nearly incomprehensible. Do not the worthy patrons of the institution know that composition is an elementary part of painting, and that it includes the whole arrangement of a pic ture? ture? If it be not worth the student's pains to study this whole, how is it more worth them to copy the parts of a picture? It must, no doubt, be allowed, that, as some pictures possess great happiness of composition, but have little to recommend them in any single incident, there are also others, which, although brilliant and even enviable in particulars, do not exhibit the comprehensive intellect of a master in the composition. But are all the pictures which the patrons send to their gallery, unfortunately of this latter description? The patrons, not being professors, may very reasonably doubt, whether they are or not; but why should not the student, whose business it is to acquire knowledge in this respect, be left to his own choice, to copy that which he judges to be most useful? The imitation of the works of other masters, by making companions, as they are termed, to certain specified pictures of the collection, may be dismissed as nugatory. The sale of pictures is an act of charity, to be extolled as such. But, taking the whole of these advantages into view, and, for a moment, laying aside the highly honourable gratifica tion derived from the sight of multitudes almost miraculously fed, let us enquire, "Can the production of works in the fine arts be forwarded by the same inethods of encouragement as other manufactures? And, will the mere use of the palet, &c. and pencils make a painter?" If not, may it not be feared that the ready sale, so freely set on foot at the British Gallery, may be more likely to promote pictures than painting? And conceiving, as has been stated, that the real object in view is to promote the progress of painting towards the most elevated state of which it is capable, if the institution were to be regarded as having reached the extent of its plan proposed for that purpose, might one not, without hesitation, assert that it bad proceeded on erroneous grounds; and may it not in our vulgar phrase, be said to have begun at the wrong end? For, does it not appear to presume the scientific foundations of painting and sculpture to be already adequately laid in the country, and that nothing is wanting but to excite diligence and dexterity by the offer of reward? "Let rewards", it is said; "be sufficient, and the point is carried: patrous will make painters." It would be truly illiberal to ascribe these sentiments, if they exist in the elevated patrons of the British Institution, to any improper consciousness of superior station, and they will be more fairly construed to indicate the voice of Hope. But, will the benevolent hopes of the patrons be in this instance realized? It is undeniable, that patronage will produce painters; but the question is, will the present patronage produce painters of the highest class? Will it not be discovered, in process of time, perhaps unfortunately at too late a moment, that the groundwork of science, so essentially requisite to excellence in the arduous pursuit, is wanting, and that it is in vain to solicit the dexterity of the hand, where there has been no previous adequate information of the mind? But if there be any error in the statement just made, of the probable effects of the British Institution on painting or sculpture; if the hopes of a productive sale will really elicit genius, or what is the same thing, induce such a cultivation of intelJect as to bring forth the fruits of genius, we have only to wish, that, taking into consideration the degraded state into which critics declare our poetry to be sunk, another British Institution may be opened for the promotion of that art also, and a sale offered for the productions of numerous bards, who are now filled with poetic fire, and whose conceptions are nevertheless in danger of being extinguished by neglect? As a lover of every species of moral advancement, I would in particular plead for the active prosecution of such a project in respect to a class of poetry, in which there are so many perversely pleasant sufferers-I mean the drama; of which (as before observed) all sound and staunch critics every day protest that our stage never bore so disgraceful records as in modern days. Will not some charita ble association call forth the sleeping genius of the drama, by conditions of sale, equally advantageous with those offered to the muse of painting? Then, if there be power in patronage, will the lost hohours of our lyre and mask be restored, and England once more boast a Dryden and a Shakespeare. "Absurd!" cries Draco-"Is it not sufficiently notorious that the emoluments to be gained by successful dramatists are actually large enough to satiate the most unconscionable of the irritable race? And yet, where are our Congreves, our Wycherleys, our Massingers, our Southernes, our Vanbrughs, and our Rowes?" This reflection is so obvious and glaring, that it never fails to excite indignation in the mastiff critics of our theatrical prizes, who, unlike to the benevolent genius of the British Institution, employ their utmost endeavours to avert the public from the authors and the works of their own day; pitiable in their mischief, because unconscious, that while they strive, as vainly as basely, to rob the labourer of his hire, the malice they diffuse may prove a poison to ingenuous effort, and prevent the maturity of that talent, whose absence they affect to deplore. But some other opportunity will serve for noticing the errors of critics: patrons are at present on the canvass. It has been sarcastically remarked that, as the painters can now gain ample remuneration for their labour at the British Gallery, nothing remains for them but to shew that the want of patronage was their only deficiency, and to prove, by the immediate production of the most elevated works, that their abilities were at all times more ready than the occasion for exerting them. Such a remark might naturally enough have been made by a journalist, whose winged destiny permits him to assign only so many minutes to each successive subject, before the printer enters the room to convey his thoughts to the press: but to a less busy, or less rapid enquirer it is obvious, that many painters in England, before the establishment of the British Gallery, did indeed want victuals, who could not paint without them; and that, now that they can get food, they will paint. But, was food all that was wanting in them? Will the amplest maintenance at once inspire refined knowledge? And is eating the only thing requisite to rouse and elevate diligence to professional eminence? So far then, the designs of the British Institution may be considered as imper. fect, or, to speak more candidly, as im mature; for, as experience is the great instructor, why should not a hope subsist, that the admirable perseverance,, evinced in the prosecution of its plan, will finally lead to the best and greatest effects? 蘩 But it is time to proceed. If such an incompetent knowledge and estimation of painting subsists in the minds of the enlightened and superior classes of society, let us turn our attention for a moment to the vulgar judgment on the arts, and ⚫ observe what a confused chaos is there the cansequence of those higher erro Deous sources. Is it absurd to say that, within the walls of the great city of London, there will scarcely be found more than one individual of a thousand, perhaps of ten thousand, who has the least solicitude concerning painting, sculpture, or feels the least concern whether they exist, or are annihilated in the country? It is not designed to infer that, in this respect, the citizens of London are neg lectful of a known duty, but that they are unapprized of the existence of any duty, with regard to the cultivation of the arts. Did they feel their cultivation to be incumbent on them, the Enquirer is proud to think (as one advantaged by the friendship of many among them), there is not a city in the world that would more strenuously concur in promoting their advancement. But what reason can they have for supposing the fine arts to form a necessary object of public attention? The government of England scarcely takes notice of their existence, sets no example of their promotion; and the citizens of London, as they emulate, so they follow in this point the steps of government without a question. The citizens of London are too industriously provident for the welfare of future generations, too busily planning the increase and perpetuity of England's wealth, too hospitably attentive to the warmth and plenty of their generous boards, and too socially communicative of the joyous moments of relaxation, to seek any further refinement of delight, or to feel any great earnestness to enquire whether any such exist. This sequacious disposition of the city of London, is discernible in the only instance, in which the state has forded assistance to one of the arts of design, by the monuments which have been raised to the heroes fallen in the defence, or to the statesmen renowned in the service, of their country. The city consequently raises statues and monuments to beroes and statesmen; ask her why? She points to Westminster Abbey and St. Paul's. The judgment of the vulgar without the walls of the city is next to be noticed. There the arts, painting, sculp ture, are in the mouths of every one. The two first mentioned, indeed, have engrossed to themselves the very name of the arts; and if you mean that those words should be understood in their more general sense, you find it necessary to explain yourself accordingly. But, observe the difference of the judgment, that has arisen from the un digested |