and men." "I will lead them," said he, to take possession of Dunkirk, which the French are to deliver to me." "I congratulate the two nations," replied I," on this operation, which will confer as much honour on the one as on the other. Adieu, sir." He ordered all the troops in the pay of England to follow him. Very few obeyed. I had foreseen the stroke, and had made sure of the prince of Anhalt, and the prince of Hesse Cassel.

July the 30th I took Quesnoi. I gave the direction of the siege of Landrecy to the prince of Anhalt, and entered the lines which I had directed to be formed between Marchiennes and Denain. The Dutch had collected large stores of ammunition and provisions at Marchiennes. In vain I represented to them that they would be better at Quesnoi, only three leagues from Landrecy, and only ten from us; the economy of these gentlemen opposed the change. This made me say peevishly, and as I have been told, with an oath, one day when Alexander's conquests were the subject of conversation, "He had no Dutch deputies with his army." I ordered twenty of their battalions, and ten squadrons under the command of the earl of Albemarle, to enter the lines, and approached Quesnoi with the main body of my army, to watch the motions of Villars. During all these shuffling tricks, of which I foresaw that I should be the dupe, and which Louis XIV. knew nothing of, I made him tremble upon his throne. At a very small distance from Versailles, one of my partisans carried off Berenghen, under the idea that it was the dauphin; others pillaged Champagne and Lorraine. Growenstein, with two thousand horse, levied contributions all over the country, spreading dismay, and declaring that I was at his heels with my army. It was then that he is reported to have said: "If Landrecy is taken, I will put myself at the head of my nobility, and perish rather than see my kingdom lost." Would he have done so? I cannot tell. He wanted once to leave the trench, but was dissuaded. Henry IV. was formerly advised the contrary: he made the sign of the cross, and remained where he was.

Villars thinking himself not strong enough to attack me, as I had hoped he would, attempted the deliverance of Denain in another way. I have mentioned my vexation respecting the maga zines at Marchiennes, upon which de

3

pended the continuation of the siege. Two leagues of ground were too much for the Dutch corps. Had it not been for the defection of the English, they might have been defended. The following circumstance demonstrated the talents of Villars, and a kind of fault with which I had to reproach myself: To conceal a movement made on his left toward the Scheldt with the greatest possible secrecy and celerity, he with his right drew my attention to Landrecy, as if he designed to attack the lines of countervallation. All at once he drew back his right towards his left, which during the night had easily formed bridges, as the Scheldt is not wide at this place. These two wings united, advanced unknown to the earl of Albe marle, who attempted with his cavalry, but in vain, to fight what had passed. He relied upon me, but I reckoned upon him. On the first firing of his artillery, I marched to his succour, with a strong detachment of dragoons, at full trot, intending to make them dismount, if necessary, and followed by my infantry, which came up at a quick pace. The cowardice of the Dutch rendered my efforts unavailing. Had they but main. tained themselves half an hour in the post of Denain, I had been in time. So I had calculated, supposing matters at the worst, had I even been deceived by the manoeuvre of Villars.

I found only eight hundred men, and three or four generals drowned in the Scheldt; and all those who had been surprised in the entrenchments, killed without making any defence. Albe marle, and all the princes and generals in the Dutch service, were taken prisoners, while endeavouring to rally their troops. The conduct of the former was represented in very black colors to the states-general. I wrote to Heinsius the pensionary: "It would be my province, sir, to throw the faults or the disasters of that day on the earl of Albemarle, if I had a single reproach to make. him. He behaved like a man of honor, but I defy the ablest general to extricate himself when his troops, after a vile discharge, ignominiously run away. Your obstinacy in leaving your magazines at Marchiennes, is the causes of all this. Assure their high mightinesses of the truth of what I write you, of my dissatisfaction and profound mortifi cation."

I was obliged to raise the siege of Landrecy, and to approach Mons, for

the

the purpose of subsisting my army; so that I could not prevent Villars from retaking Douay, Quesnoi, and Bouchain. I often examine myself with the utmost possible strictness, it appears to me, that if I had placed twenty battalions more in the lines, which would have been necessary to defend them, Villars, who was stronger than I, would then have beaten ine. Out of the lines, posted as I was, I provided for every contingency. Could I expect that an hour at the utmost, more or less, would be decisive of my glory, of the war, and of the salvation of France? The artillery of the Fines, which were thickly planted with it, ought alone to have given me time to come up. Instead of being well served, it was abandoned in as cowardly a manner as the entrenchments. The two faults which I committed were, not dis-,

regarding the remonstrances of the depu ties respecting Marchiennes, and confi 'ding a post of such importance to their troups, the flower of which had perished at Malplaquet.

It may easily be supposed, that I was the subject of criticism at Vienna, London, and the Hague, and of songs at Paris. Here is one which I thought pretty, because it gives any history in very few words:

Eugene, op'ning the campaign,

Swore with air most furious,
He'd march straightway to Champagne,
To swig our wines so curious.
The Dutchman for this journey gay
His cheese to Marchienne sent away;
But Villars, fir'd with glory, cried:
"Faith, where you are you'd better bide;
Scheldt's muddy water is, I think,
Quite good enough for you to drink."

"Sir Thomas Overbury his Wife; with Additions of New Characters, and many other Witty Conceits, never before printed." The sixteenth Impression. London, 1638, 16mo,

F this work the characters form the

he be out of court; hut, fish-like, breaths destruction, if out of his element. Neither his motion or aspect, are regular, but he moves by the upper spheares, and is the reflection of higher substances.

"If you find him not here, you shall in

are among the best and most interesting:

A COURTIER,

"To all mens thinking, is a man, and to most men the finest: all things else are defined by the understanding, but this by the senses; but his surest mark is, that he is to be found only about princes. He smels, and putteth away much of his judgement about the situation of his clothes. He knows no man that is not generally known. His wit, like the marigold, openeth with the sun, and therefore he riseth not before ten of the clock. He puts more confidence in his words than meaning, and more in his pronunciation than his words. Occasion is his Cupid, and he hath but one receit of ma. king love. He followes nothing but inConstancie, admires nothing but beauty, honors nothing but fortune. Loves nothing. The sustenance of his discourse is newes, and his censure, like a shot, depends upon the charging. He is not, if

cape-cloak, and a long stocking."

" A PEDANT.

"Hee treades in a rule; and one hand scannes verses, and the other holds his scepter. Hee dares not thinke a thought, that the nominative case governs not the verb; and he never had meaning in his life, for he travelled only for words. His ambition is criticisme, and his example Tully. Hee values phrases, and elects them by the sound, and the eight parts of speech are his servants. To bee briefe, he is a heteroclite, for he wants the plural number, having onely the single quality of words."

but a borrowed blast of wind; for, be tween two religions, as betweene two doers, he is ever whistling. Truly whose child he is, is yet unknowne; for willingly his faith allowes no father: onely thus far his pedigree is found. Bragger and he flourisht about a time first; his fiery zeale keepes him continually costive, which withers him into his own translation, and till he cat a schooleman he is hide-bound; he ever prayes against non-residents, but is himself the greatest discontinuer, for he never keeps neere his text: any thing that the law allowes, but marriage and March beere, hee murmurs at; what it disallows and holds dangerous, makes him a discipline. Where the gate stands open, hee is ever seeking a stile; and where his learning ought to climb, he creeps through: give him advice, you run into traditions; and urge a modest course, he cryes out councels. His greatest care is to contemn obedience, his last care to serve God handsomely and cleanly. Hee is now become so crosse a kind of teaching, that should the church enjoyne clean shirts, hee were lowsie: more sense than single praiers is not his; nor more in those, than still the same petitions: from which he either feares a learned faith, or doubts God understands not at first hearing. Shew him a ring, he runs back like a beare; and hates square dealing as allied to caps: a paire of organs blow him out oth' parish, and are the only glister pipes to coole him. Where the meat is best, there he confutes most, for his arguing is but the efficacy of his eating: good bits he holds breed good positions, and the pope he best concludes against in plom-broth. Hee is often drunke, but not as we are, temporally; nor can his sleepe then cure him, for the fumes of his ambition make his very soule reele, and that small beere that should allay him (silence) keepes him more surfeited, and makes his heat break out in private houses: women and lawyers are his best disciples; the one, next fruit, longs for forbidden doctrine; the other to maintaine forbidden titles, both which he sowes amongst them. Honest he dares not be, for that loves order; yet if he can bee brought to ceremony, and made but master of it, he is converted."

"A FAIRE AND HAPPY MILK-MAID, "Is a country wench, that is so farre from making her selfe beautifull by art, that one looke of hers is able to put all face-physicke out of countenance. She knowes a faire looke is but a dumb orator 3

to commend vertue, therefore minds it not. All her excellencies stand in her so silently, as if they had stolne upon her without her knowledge. The lining of her apparell (which is herselfe) is farre better than outsides of tissew; for though she be not arrayed in the spoile of the silke-worme, shee is deckt in innocency, a far better wearing. She doth not, with lying long abed, spoile both her complexion and conditions; nature hath taught her, too immoderate sleep is rust to the soule: she rises therefore with chaunticleare, her dames cock, and at night makes the lamb her corfew. In milking a cow, and straining the teats through her fin gers, it seemes that so sweet a milk. presse makes the milk the whiter or sweeter; for never came almond glove or aromatique oyntment of her palme to taint it. The golden eares of corne fall and kisse her feet when she reapes them, as if they wisht to be bound and led prisoners by the same hand that fell'd them. Her breath is her own, which scents all the yearelong of June, like a new-made haycock. She makes her hand hard with labour, and her heart soft with pity: and when winters evenings fall early (sitting at her merry wheele) she sings a defiance to the giddy wheel of fortune. She doth all things with so sweet a grace, it seems ignorance will not suffer her to doe ill, being her mind is to doe well. She bestowes her yeares wages at next faire; and in chusing her garments, counts no bravery i'th' world like decency. The garden and bee-hive are all her physick and chyrurgery, and she lives the longer for't. She dares goe alone, and unfolde sheepe i'th' night, and feares no manner of ill, because she meanes none: yet to say truth, she is never alone, for she is still accompanied with old songs, honest thoughts, and prayers, but short ones; yet they have their efficacy, in that they are not pauled with insuing idle cogitations. Lastly her dreames are so chaste, that shee dare tell them; only a Fridaies drean is all her superstition, that she conceals for feare of anger. Thus lives she, and all her care is she may die in the spring-time, to have store of flowers stucke upon her winding sheet."

Whose passions not his masters are,
Whose soule is still prepared for death:
Unty'd unto the world with care

Of princely love, or vulgar breath.

Who hath his life from rumours freed,

Whose conscience is his strong retreat : Whose state can neither flatterers feed,

Nor ruine make accusers great.

Who envieth none whom chance doth raise,
Or vice: who never understood,
How deepest wounds are given with praise;
Not rules of state, but rules of good.

Who God doth late and early pray,

More of his grace than gifts to lend; Who entertains the harmless day

With a well-chosen booke or friend.

"His majesty observed a queint interrogatory put to a jealous lover, out of that famous comedy of Ignoramus, the which his majesty highly commended; viz. whether he desired most, or rather to be termed, Publius Cornelius, or Cornelius' Tacitus. In further approbation of which comedy, besides in opposition and dislike of another comedy, performed and acted before his majesty by the schollers of the University of Oxford, that as in Cambridge one sleep made him wake, so in Oxford one wake made him sleep."

"Poems and Songs. By Thomas Flutman." 8vo. Lond. 1674.

From this little volume we shall first transcribe" A Thought on Death," on which Pope seems to have had an eye when composing one of the most celebrated of his smaller pieces.

"When on my sick bed I languish, Full of sorrow, full of anguish, Fainting, gasping, trembling, crying, Panting, groaning, speechless, dying, My soul just now about to take her flight Into the regions of eternal night; Oh tell me you,

That have been long below,

What shall I do?

"Poor Celia once was very fair,

A quick bewitching eye she had, Most neatly look't her braided haire,

Her dainty cheeks would make you mad. Upon her lip did all the Graces play, And on her breast ten thousand Cupids lay.

2. Thea

Then many a doating lover came
From seventeen till twenty-one,
Each told her of his mighty flame,

But she (forsooth) affected none;

One was not handsome, t'other was not fine, This of tobacco smelt, and that of wine.

M

But t'other day it was my fate,

To walk along that way alone, I saw no coach before her gate,

But at the door I heard her moane; She dropt a tear, and sighing seem'd to say, Young ladies marry, marry while you may!"

INVENTRESS OF HOT BATHS.

EDEA is fabled to have boiled in, a magic cauldron the limbs of her aged father son, and thus to have restored his youth. From this legend, (says Leclerc,) in the History of Medicine, we may infer that Medea introduced the use of artificial hot-baths.

MICITHUS.

In the eleventh chapter of the first book of the Saturnalia of Macrobius, occur many anecdotes of illustrious slaves. Here is one of them: Anaxilaus, the founder of the Sicilian Messene, and the tyrant of Rhegium in Italy, bequeathed to his slave Micithus the guardianship of his children. He managed not only the patrimony of his wards, but the affairs of the state, with so much probity and prudence, that the people of Rhegium, with one accord, proposed to invest him with the tyranny, or government for life, of their city. This he waved; and when his master's son was of age, resigned to him at once the patrimony and government, and retired on a small competency to Olym. pia.

POLYGAMY DEFENDED.

Polygamy has been defended by other Christian writers than our Madan, the author of Thelyphthora. Lyserus wrote a book entitled Polygamia Triumphatrir, and contends, at page 92, that monogamy prevents the conversion of infidels. He notices Mahomet Galadin, a prince who but for this reason would have embraced Christianity. This Lyserus was a Saxon, and wrote under the assumed name of Theophilus Aletheus. His book was printed in 1683; and was refuted by Brusman, of Copenhagen.

TRANSLATION of pope.

thought is rarely rivalled; but the nar rative portions are well executed. Take as a specimen,

"The lumb thy riot dooms to bleed to day," &c.

Cet innocent agneau que ta faim meurtrière
Condamnera ce soir à perdre la lumière,
S'il avait ta raison, s'il prévoyait son sort,
Dans une paix tranquille attendrait-il la
mort?
Jusqu à l'instant fatal qui termine sa vie,
Il pâit en bondissant l'herbe tendre et fleurie,
Sans crainte, sans soupçon, au milien du
danger,

Il caresse la main quil le doit égorger.

The simile" So pleas'd at first the tow'ring Alps we try," &c. is thus marred: Sans craindre leur hauteur, et plein de confiance, Vers les Alpes ainsi le voyageur s'avance: Les cieux semblent d'abord s'abaisser sous

Exhausted patience turns to lasting hate.
Soon to refuse, is next to giving soon.
A second shipwreck is not Neptune's fault
Live before friends, as if they might be foes.
To bear one injury invites another.
Dangers are but by dangers overcome.
The graff of credit is frugality.
The more the strife, the further from the
truth.

To which may be added another, not easily translated into a ueat English

able passages.

MONTHLY MAG. No. 204.

line:

licet.