good company are now in a very bad situation, yet I would not have them despair, nor perpetually carry about the marks of their defeat in their countenance, so visible in a mixture of fierté and dejection. They have still one asylum left to fly to, which, with all their advantages of birth and education, it is surprising they should not long since have discovered; but since they have not, I shall beg leave to point it out'; and it is this: that they once more retire to the long deserted fort of true British grandeur, their princely seats and magnificent castles in their several · countries; and there, arming themselves with religion and virtue, hospitality and charity, civility and friendship, bid defiance to their impertinent pursuers. And though I will not undertake, that they shall not, even here, be followed in time, and imitated by their inferiors, yet so averse are all ranks of people at present to this sort of retirement, so totally disused from the exercise of those kinds of arms, and so unwilling to return to it, that I will venture to premise, it will be very long before they can be overtaken or attacked; but that here, and here only, they may enjoy their favourite singularity, unmolested, for half a century WORLD.

to come.

THE DOLPHIN OF HIPPO.

I HAVE met with a story, which, though it is authenticated by undoubted evidence, has all the air of fable, and would afford a very proper subject for the exercise of your truly poetical and sublime genius. It was related to me, the other day, at table, where the conversation happened to turn upon various kinds of extraordinary events. The person who gave the account was a man of unsuspected veracity:—but what has a poet to do with truth? However, you might venture to rely upon his testimony, even though you had the

the sea.

character of a faithful historian to support. There is in Africa a town called Hippo, situate not far from the seacoast it stands upon a navigable lake, whence a river runs into the main ocean, and ebbs and flows with Persons of all ages divert themselves here with fishing, sailing, or swimming; especially boys, whom love of play and idleness bring thither. The contest among them is, who shall have the glory of swimming farthest; and he that leaves the shore and his companions at the greatest distance, gains the victory. It happened, in one of these trials of skill, that a certain boy, more bold than the rest, launched out towards the opposite shore. He was met by a dolphin, who sometimes swam before him, and sometimes behind him, then played round him, and at last took him upon his back, then set him down, and afterward took him up again; and thus he carried the poor frighted boy out into the deepest part; when immediately he turns back again to the shore, and lands him among his companions. The fame of this remarkable event spread through the town, and crowds of people flocked round the boy (whom they viewed as a kind of prodigy), to ask him questions, and hear him relate the story. The next day the shore was lined with multitudes of spectators, all attentively contemplating the ocean, and (what indeed is almost itself an ocean) the lake. In the mean while, the boys swam as usual, and, among the rest, the youth I am speaking of went into the lake, but with more caution than before. The dolphin again appeared, and came to the boy, who, together with his companions, swam away with the utmost precipitation. The dolphin, as it were, to invite and recal them, leaped and dived up and down, darting about in a thonsand different convolutions. This he practised for several days together, till the people (accustomed from their infancy to the

sea) began to be ashamed of their timidity. They ventured, therefore, to advance nearer, playing with him, and calling him to them; while he, in return, suffered himself to be touched and stroked. Use rendered them more courageous: the boy, in particular, who first had experienced the safety, swam by the side of him, and, leaping upon his back, was carried about in that manner: thus they gradually became acquainted and delighted with each other. There seemed now, indeed, to be no fear on either side, the confidence of the one and tameness of the other mutually increasing: the rest of the boys, in the mean while, surrounding and encouraging their companion. It is very remarkable, that this dolphin was followed by a second, which seemed only as a spectator and attendant on the former; for he did not at all submit to the same familiarities as the first, but only conducted him backwards and forwards, as the boys did their comrade. But what is farther surprising, and no less true, than that which I have already related, is, this dolphin, who thus played with the boys, and carried them upon his back, would come upon the shore, dry himself in the sand, and, as soon as he grew warm, roll back into the sea. Octavius Avitus, deputy governor of the province, actuated by an absurd piece of superstition, poured some precious ointment over him as he lay on the shore; the novelty and smell of which made him retire into the ocean, and it was not till after several days that he was seen again, when he appeared dull and languid: however, he recovered his strength, and continued his usual playful tricks. All the magistrates round the country flocked hither to view this sight; the entertainment of whom, upon their arrival, and during their stay, was an additional expense, which the slender finances of this little community would ill afford; besides, that the quiet and retirement of the place was utterly destroyed. It was thought proper, therefore, to remove the occasion

of this concourse, by privately killing the poor dolphin. And now, with what a flow of tenderness will you describe this affecting catastrophe! and how will your genius adorn and improve the interesting story! Though, indeed, the subject does not require any fictitious embellishments; it will be sufficient to describe the fact in all it's real cir cumstances. Farewell. MELMOTH'S PLINY.

AN ECONOMICAL PROJECT.

MESSIEURS,

To the Authors of the Journal.

Paris.

YOU often entertain us with accounts of new discoveries. Permit me to communicate to the public, through your paper, one, that has lately been made by myself, and which I conceive may be of great utility.

I was, the other evening, in a grand company, where the new lamp of Messrs. Quinquet and Lange was introduced, and much admired for it's splendour; but a general inquiry was made, whether the oil it consumed was not in proportion to the light it afforded? in which case there would be no saving in the use of it. No oue present.could satisfy us in this point, which all agreed ought to be known, it being a very desirable thing to lessen, if possible, the expense of lighting our apartments, when every other arLicle of family expense was so much augmented.

I was pleased to see this general concern for economy, for I love economy exceedingly.

I went home, and to bed, three or four hours after midnight, with my head full of the subject. An accidental sudden noise waked me, about six in the morning, when I was surprised to find my room filled with light; and I imagined, at first, that a number of those lamps had been brought into it: but, rubbing my eyes, I perceived the

light came in at the windows. I got up, and looked out to see what might be the occasion of it, when I saw the sun just rising above the horizon, whence he poured his rays plentifully into my chamber, my domestic having negli gently omitted, the preceding evening, to close the shutters.

I looked at my watch, which goes very well, and found that it was but six o'clock; and still thinking it something extraordinary, that the sun should rise so early, I looked into the almanack, where I found it to be the hour given for his rising on that day. I looked forward too, and found he was to rise still earlier every day till toward the end of Jane; and that at no time in the year he retarded his rising so long as till eight o'clock. Your readers, who with me have never seen any signs of sunshine before noon, and seldom regard the astronomical part of he almanack, will be as much astonished as I was, when they hear of his rising so early; and especially when I assure them, that he gives light as soon as he rises. I am convinced of this. I am certain of my fact. One cannot be more certain of any fact. I saw it with my own eyes. And, having repeated this observation the three following mornings, I found always precisely the same result.

Yet so it happens, that when I speak of this discovery to others, I can easily perceive, by their countenances, though they forbear expressing it in words, that they do not quite believe me. One, indeed, who is a learned na tural philosopher, has assured me, that I must certainly be mistaken as to the circumstance of the light coming into my room; for it being well known, as he says, that there could be no light abroad at that hour, it follows, that none could enter from without; and that, of consequence, my windows being accidentally left open, instead of letting in the light, had only served to let out the darkness: and he used many ingenious arguments, to show me how I might, by that means, have been deceived. I own, that he puz