'O Phillis, he whispers, "more fair, "Thus glide the soft numbers along, And he faucies no shepherd his peer; Were not Phillis to lend it an ear. Or sure I must envy the song." like PART IV.-Disappointment.—It is to be regretted, that the poet should not have continued this ballad for a dozen of parts more. Towards the beginning it is full of imperfection, absurdity, and inelegance. As we proceed we find it improve. The long quotation I have just made of the third part has genuine merit; and with regard to the fourth part, there is not a passage, in my opinion, with which a candid critic can find fault on the contrary, it abounds with beauties. tain Parnassus, gives way to grief, and is But the most usual and approved manner is this: Damon meets Melancas, who wears a most woeful countenance. The shepherd asks his friend, why that look of distress? Has he lost a favourite kid, or is his mistress faithless?—No, replies the other dismally, it is still worse Pollio is no more. If that be the case, says Damon, let us retire to yonder bower, where the cypress and the jasmine give fragrance to the breeze: there let us alternately vent our sighs for Pollio, the friend of shepherds, the patron of every Muse. Ah! returns his fellow swain, let us rather repair to that grotto by the fountain's side; the murmuring stream will harmonize our lamentations, and philomel in the neighbouring tree will join her voice to the concert. When the scene is thus settled, they bethe waters to flow"-the cows forget to gin-"The winds cease to breathe, and graze; the very tygers start from the forest with sympathetic concern!-By the tombs of our ancestors, my dear Fum, I am quite unaffected in all this distress; the whole is liquid laudanum to my spirits, and a tyger of common sensibility has twenty times more tenderness than f J. BANNANTINE. have." Dec. 2, 1808. December last, I see a communication from a Correspondent, signing himself "ELECTROPHILUS," on the new Electrical Discoveries, in which I have in vain endeavoured to find that novelty of information and instruction, which, in my opinion, should be expected from every one who writes upon a subject so httle investigated, and so little understood; and indeed, at last, I was unable fully to satisfy my mind what was the real meaning of the author in making such a communication. His only osten Having thus, I trust not illiberally, criticised Mr. Shenstone, I shall conclude the present dissertation, by quoting the sentiments put in the mouth of a Chinese by a learned foreigner (I believe the Marquis D'Argens), respecting one species of pastoral. It is an extract from the Chinese Spy, a book not sufficiently known in this country; although I be lieve it has been translated. "There are several ways of being posible reasons seem to be-ist. To state etically sorrowful on such occasions (the death of distinguished characters). Now, the bard is some pensive scientific youth, who eats deploring among the tombs; again, he is Thirsis complaining amidst a circle of innocent sheep-now, Britanna sits on her own shore, and gives a louse to maternal tenderness for the loss of her darling, gallant son-nt another time, Parnassus, even the rugged moun to the public, that Mr. Davy did not, in his original experiments on the decomposition of the alkalis, inake use of the large galvanic battery, at present in the possession of the Royal Institution. This was very well known before; because Mr. Davy had particularly mentioned, that, at the time of the discovery, the large apparatus, was not in the possession of the Institution. 2 2dly. 2dly. To state," the general method of investigation, to which alone Mr. Davy owes this particular 'result." Upon this I shall not make any remark, although, perhaps, the word " alone, ought not to pass unnoticed, when, in the Bakerian lecture, it is written, that Mr. Davy was surprised at the result of the first experiment, in which the potash was decomposed; which he would not have been, bad he at that time been guided by the "strict" and "perfectly correct" analogy, which Electrophilus would have us believe was the sole reason for Mr. Davy's making the experiments, and, consequently, that he must have expected such a result. Sdly. To give a general outline of the theory, which Mr. Davy has built upon these newly discovered electro-chemical facts. This certainly was perfectly unnecessary for the edification of the readers of the Monthly Magazine, since so clear and comprehensive an analysis of the whole has been given in your Number for February. (Vol. 25, p. 58.) These are the only reasons which appear to have induced Electrophilus to fill up your pages with his cominunication; aud really, in my opinion, they are not of sufficient weight to warrant its insertion. I shall beg leave now to take this opportunity of making some observations upon this theory; first, however, premising, that it is far from my intention to express any dislike or ill-will_towards Mr. Davy, because from my have ing, as well as your Correspondent, attended his lectures, and known his abilities, I can appreciate and acknowledge his worth; but in applying the principles of his theory to some of the acknowJedged chemical phenomena, I have been unable by their means to explain them in a satisfactory manner. A few of these instances I wish, through your Magazine, to state to the public, because, believing, as I do, that the principles are in a great measure correct, I cannot but hope, that a more complete investigation, and a clearer insight into the new laws, will essentially tend to render our ideas of chemical science, more simple, and therefore more accordant, with the ordinary course of nature. These new doctrines, however, certainly want investigation, as, in all probability, there will be a necessity for new-modelling my present ideas in some degree, before we shall arrive at that truth, which is so necessary for the establishment of general principles. In the first place, therefore, why do not the metals themselves, in preference to their oxides, unite with acids when presented to them? This they ought to do, if it is true, that the more oxigen is contained in any substance, the more powerful are its negative energies; whereas, in reality, here are metals which are inflammable, and therefore positive, not capable of uniting with acids which are negative, unless a large dose of the negative principle be added to them, by which the two bodies will be brought nearer to each other in their electrical states, and therefore ought to become less likely to unite. Or why do not earths, which are positive, unite with oxigen, which contains a smaller quantity of electricity (or is more negative), than any substance with which we are acquainted; when they unite with acids which contain so much oxigen, as to be indebted for all their properties to the quantity of that body which enters into their composition? Or, since oils contain so much oxigen, as not only to be negative with regard to the oils, but even to the alkalis also? for, by the new law of bodies uniting together more strongly in proportion to the opposition of their electrical states, the union of oils and acids ought to be far stronger than that between the oils and alkalis; whereas, in fact, oils and acids have no affinity for each other. The same reasoning may be applied to the mixture of oils and water, &c. After having stated these apparent anomalies in Mr. Davy's theory, I shall refrain from mentioning many others, which a further examination would point out, being contented with having opened a door for discussion, which I hope will lead to a more com plete elucidation or corection of these doctrines of the ingenious and learned professor. Your's, &c. Birmingham, PHILECTRON. To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine. SIR, HALMERS, in his Life of Sir David Lyndsay, vol. 1. p. 49, has engraved an old stone, now in a farm house, at the Mount, with these arms, &c.-A fess checqué, in chief three muullets; in base, a heart; impaling three escutcheons, in fess, a thistle: on the dexter side of these arms are, J. L. and on the sinister, A. H. and at the base, 1650. He says, "it is apparent that the dexter," (dexter quartering,)" which, by the bye, is not a quartering, but an impaling, contains the armis of Lyndsay of the Mount; while the sinister quartering comprehends the armorial bearings of the family of his wife, which cannot be so easily developed." Why not, good Mr. Chalmers, A.S.S.? Does not A. II. stand for Ann Hay? And did not James Lyndsay of the Mount marry Ann Hay, daughter of Sir Patrick Hay, of Pitfour? And are not the arms of Hay, Argent, three escocheons gules? And did not Sir Patrick, Ann's father, bear them with the distinction of a thistle, in fess, as there engraved? And do not the family of Hay, of Pitfour, now bear, Argent, three escutcheons gules, with a bordure checqué of the second and first? How did Mr. C. the immediate or collateral descendant of heralds, pass muster at Somerset-house. Dec. 14, 1808. N. Y. P.S. You may, Mr. Editor, think me snappish; that I am, belike, the Norwich dragon; in sober truth, I am not: but when Messrs. Chalmers, Pinkerton, &c. &c. grow! and snarl, and snarl and growl, I cannot but think that there, are joys in gowling, which none but growlers know, nor resist this op portunity of just crying bow bow!" For the Monthly Magazine. ORIGIN OF TAMING THE SHREW, TH from an Italian Novelist. THE commentators on Shakespeare seem puzzled to find the origin, whence that poet has drawn the idea, of his "Taming the Shrew." That other plays had been written before, with nearly the same plot, their researches have proved. It is now some years since I pointed out the following story from "Le piacevole Notte di Giovano Francesco Strupparola, an Italian novelist, which probably furnished the hint of one part of "Taming the Shrew." The sage and experienced physician, when he discovers a disease in the human body, avails himself of what seem to him the most proper remedies for its inmediate cure; but if he wait till the disorder is grown old and inveterate, he will find it much more difficult, and indeed impracticable; for which reason, a wise and prudent husband should, when he marries, check any inclination in his wife to a love of dominion; as such an evil propensity, if allowed once to take root, he will never be able to eradicate, and it will make him miserable all the rest of his life, as was exMONTHLY Mag. 184. perienced by a soldier of whom we have to speak. In Corneto, a castle and fortress of Tuscany, of the Patrimony of St. Peter, there were two brothers, who, from their youth had entertained the strongest regard for each other; one was named Pizardo, the other Silverio; but although their frater nal affection was mutual, they reither lodged in one house, nor eat and slept together. It happened that Silverio, the youngest, without saying a word to any of his comrades, except his brother, married a taylor's daughter: she was handsome and genteel, but full of levity, unsteady, and never at rest; fond of holiday-making, and extravagant to the highest degree; careless of economy, unwilling to miss either feast or procession; in short she was always at the door, the window, or in the street. When the wedding was over, Silverio carried his wife home, and became, anew, so enamoured of her beauty and sprightliness, that he pronounced, that the world did not contain such another paragon of beauty; and, from the excess of his love, he was induced to comply with all her wishes, and at length nothing was done in his house that Espinela (soshe was called) did not command. Hence she became so absolutea mistress, and so shameless, at length she began to slight her hus band, and all his affairs; and the poor man was reduced to such subjection, that when he desired his servants to do any thing, she commanded them to disobey him; and Silverio, who only saw through Espinela's eyes,instead of reproving,or endeavouring to remedy so obstinate an evil, humbly resigned the bridle to her, and allowed her to act according to her own fancy. In less than a year after Silverio's marriage, Pisardo was united to Espinela's sister, a young girl, named Florella, who was neither less handsome, nor less genteel, than her sister. The nuptials over, he carried her home; and on the same day, he took a pair of very rich velvet breeches, and two cudgels, and addressed his spouse in the following manner: Florella, my dear, these as you see clearly, are men's breeches, do you take hold of one side of them, and I will of the other; with the other hand, grasp this cudgel, and I will do the same: we will then fight till one is acknowledged conqueror: whoever conquers, shall be the master and shall wear these breeches; the vanquished shall Y y be be for life humble, and obedient to the victor. Florella remained for some time motionless, so surprized was she at her husband's strange discourse; but at length, recovering her spirits, of which her fright had deprived her, she replied, Alas! my Pisardo, what is the meaning of all this? are you not the husband, my lord, and master, who has a right to claim duty and obedience from me, and all my household. I am the wife, obedient to your will and command. Is not the precept and law of our high and mighty creator, consented to by all the female race? How, my lord, can I act thus? Am I privileged above the rest of my sex? Take your breeches then, Pisardo; wear them, since they are your's, and it is you alone they fit. The field remains your's without a combat; I acknowledge you the conqueror, and my self vanquished. I also acknowledge my self a woman, which name contains all the properties of subjection; and I bumbly submit myself to you with pleasure. Florella, replied Pisardo, I am extremely pleased to find that you acknow ledge all that I desire of you; but I do not implicitly confide in your constancy, since you are, as you say, a woman, which name comprehends so many qualities; but I advise you not to alter your mind: if you do not, although you have promised obedience, and acknowledged me for your master, I will serve you, and treat you with the greatest kindness. Florella, very prudently confirmed all that had been said; ber husband immediately delivered up to her the keys of all his coffers, and gave her directions how to manage. He then said, Florella, come with me, I wish to shew you my horses, that, in my absence, you may know how they should be treated. When they came to the door of the stable, Pisardo said, What do you think my dear, of my horses, are not they beautiful and well kept? Indeed, answered she, they are very fine, and in excellent order. But, observe above all,said Pisardo,how ready, light, and well-managed they are; and whipping first one,then the other, he cried, Cross over there! Come here! The horses, fearful of chastisement, immediate ly obeyed their master. Amongst these horses, Pisardo had one, more beautiful to appearance than the others; but so malicious, and so little to be depended npon, that be did not value him at all. He went up to him, with the whip in hand, and slashing him, cried out, Come, stop; go on! but the horse, being naturally vici ous, received blows, and returned kicks. Seeing the obstinacy of the horse, Pisardo took a cudgel and laid it on him, till he fell; when he saw him on the ground, he came up to him and said, Get up, Troy: but instead of obeying him, the horse, in a rage, attacked him in the leg, and bit him violently; upon which Pisardo drew his sword, and stabbed him. When Fiorella saw the horse dead; melting into tears. Good God! said she, is it possible, Pisardo, you can have the heart to kill so fine an animal? Pisardo, stifling the pain occasioned by the bite, replied, Know, my Florella, that all who eat my bread, and do not what I command them, I serve in this manner, even should I love and esteem them more than I do you." This retort grieved Florella very much, and she said to herself, Alas! unhappy creature that I am, to be united to a man so violent and so passionate. I thought I had a husband both steady and prudent;but I have bestowed my hand on a madman. See, for what a trifling offence, he has killed this beautiful horse, the best he has. She said this, ignorant of the cause that had made Pizardo act thus; and ever after she trembled, if he evinced the smallest sign of displeasure; so that there was nothing to be heard in their house, but a yes and a no. Perpetual concord! Silverio,who loved his brother very much, visited him often, and saw the good beha viour and virtuous obedience of Florella. He reflected within himself, Good God! why have I not deserved a wife as obedient as Florella? She governs, commands, and directs every thing, at the pleasure of her husband. How obedient, virtuous, and polite she is in every thing she says and does to him; with how much love she serves and obeys him; how different to my wife! She, on the contrary, is my most mortal enemy. One day, when the brothers were talking together, Silverio said to Pisardo, Brother, I have no occasion to mention our fraternal affection, or any other preamble; I shail therefore only intreat you as a brother, to tell me, how you have ma naged to bring your wife into such good order. She is truly a saint; she obeys you in every thing; while Espinela, my wife, is not to be restrained either by love or fear. She answers me, flies at me, curses me; in a word, she has her own will in every thing. Pisardo, smiling, gave his brother a detail of all his proceedings the day that he brought Florella home. This plan pleased Silverio so much, that he resolved immediately 1 immediately to put it into execution; accordingly, as soon as he went home, he called his wife, and said to her, Madam, bring out of the trunk the best pair of breeches I have; and while she was gone to fetch them, he procured two cudgels. When Espinela returned, Heigh day! cried she, what is the matter now, Mr. Silver io? Is the moon at the fall, or is your judgment in the wau? Are you as mad this week as you were sullen last? Very well, go on, you begin finely. Do not we all know that men wear breeches? Is that any reason that you should lose your senses? Silverio answered nothing to all this, but proceeded to give her orders for the management of his house. To which Espinela replied, sneeringly, Do you think, Mr. Silverio I have lived so long without knowing how to manage my own house? I wonder how you dare to tutor me at this time of the day? Silverio said not a word to all this, but led her by the hand to his stables, where he acted, in the same manner, towards one of his best horses, as his brother had done, killing him outright in his wife's presence. At the sight of Silverio's rage, Espinela, thinking him mad, cried out, What have you really had the misfortune to lose your senses? What is the meaning of all these fine doings, without rhyme or reason? I am not mad, replied Silverio, gravely, nor du I act madly; know madam, and be as sured, that whoever eats my bread, must be obedient to the, or I shall serve them thus. You are to be pitied, indeed, reJoining Espinela, if you set about reform ing now-a-days. What did the horse do to you, that you should kill it so unreasonably? Was it not the finest horse in the service of the pope? Do not you consider that you have lost your horse, your consequence, and your peace? I suppose another day you will feel inclined to serve me in the same way, if I do not take good care to prevent you. But undeceive yourself, your madness will avail you little. I see your design clearly; but it is all too late. And now what have you got by this fine day's work, except, reproach to your judgment, shame to your honor, and the scorn of all who shall hear of your follies. When Silverio had heard his wife's long lecture, and gathered from it that there were no signs of amendment, be determined that since neither love nor fear could curb her pride to bear it patiently, till death should put an end to his troubles. Thenceforward, the obstinate Espinela behaved worse than ever, as poor Silverio thing she pleased, to procure himself a was obliged to give her liberty to do any moment's comfort. To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine. SIR, Ys OUR correspondent, Mr. Skrimvice, by communicating his experiments shire, has rendered a public sering the potatoe for use. As he has taken on the comparative methods of preparhe may have a cook who understands so much pains on this subject, probably Such a communication would be exthe proper method of boiling potatoes. tremely useful to thousands of families. I have been a housekeeper nearly fifty years, yet never had a servant on whom I could rely for dressing properly this most useful article. Your's, &c. April 4, 1809. J. JOHNSON. To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine. I SIR, AGREE with your ingenious correlast Number, in regretting that no me spondent M. at page 241, of your thod has yet been “ for communicating the exact degree of time, in which a composer of music put in practice," would have his works performed: but I believe the proper method for adjusting this matter, by means of pendulums, was suggested some years before the hint given by Dr. Crotch, to which your correspondent refers. There are some remarks, relative to the best method of regulating musical time, given in a popujar school-book, by Mr. (now Dr.) Gregory, published under the title of 66 phical," in the year 1793. Even at that, Lessons, Astronomical, and Philosotime Mr. Gregory spoke of the plan, as one which had been urged before. A spicuous, as far as they go, perhaps you the directions there given, are very permay think the following extract from them sufficiently important to merit a place in your widely circulated miscel lany. is no other than the substitution of pro- the |