da ftags differ only from ours in the height of their horns, and the number and direction of the antlers, which are fometimes not ftraight forward as on the heads of our ftags, but bend backwards: This, however, is only a variety fometimes obferved in the ftags of all countries. The fame may be faid of thofe horns that have above the broader part a great number of antlers in form of a crown: Thefe are very feldom found in England and France, and come from the country of the Mufcovites and Germany; in the main, it is but another variety which does not hinder thofe ftags being of the fame fpecies with ours. In Canada, as in England and France, moft ftags have ftraight antlers; but their horns in general are larger and thicker, beCause they find in these thinly inhabited countries a greater plenty of food, and more reft, than in countries peopled by a great number of men. There are large and small ftags in America as in Europe; but, how numerous foever that species may be, it feems confined to cold and temperate climates; for the ftags of Mexico and other parts of South America; thofe that are called wooddoes, and the does of Cayenne; thofe called tags of the Ganges, and otherwife denominated does of Sardinia; thofe, in fine to which travellers give the name of ftags of the Cape of Good Hope, Guinea, and other hot countries; are not of the fpecies of our ftags. And as the fallow-deer is an animal lefs wild, more delicate, and, as it were, more tame than the stag, he is alfo fubject to a greater number of varieties. Befides the common fallow-deer, and the white, feveral others are well known. The fallow-deer of pain, for example, are almost as large as ftags; but their neck is lefs thick and their colour more dark, with a blackish tail, not white underneath, and longer than that of the common fallow-deer. The fallow-deer of Virginia are almost as large as thofe of Spain, and are remarkable for the greatnefs of their genitals. There are others that have the forehead compreffed, flatted between the eyes, the ears and tail longer than the common, and marked with a white spot on the hoof of the hind feet. Some others are Spotted or ftriped with white, black, and a bright fallow colour; and, laftly, others that are intirely black. All have their horns more flat, more extended in breadth, and in proportion better furnished with antlers than the itag: Thefe horns alfo are more bent inward, and terminate by a broad and long piece, refembling the palm of the hand; and fometimes, when the head of the fallow-deer is ftrong and well nourished, the largest antlers terminate likewife by a little palin. The common fallow-deer has a longer tail than the ftag, and a skin of a brighter colour. The head of all the different forts moults as that of ftags, but falls later, and takes up much about the fame time in recruiting. The rutting of thefe animals is a fortnight or three weeks after that of the ftag: The males then bray pretty frequently, but it is with a low, and, as it were, intercepted voice. They do not proceed to thofe excefles of fury as the ftag, nor exhaust themfelves by rutting. They do not quit the place of their abode to go in queft of females, yet they difpute the prize, and fight boldly for it. Their inclination is to live together, and for this purpofe they form herds, and remain almost always with one another. In parks, where their number may be confiderable, they commonly form twe troops, distinct and feparate; and hence become enemies, as having equally a mind to occupy the fame place of the park. Each of thofe troops has its chief, who marches foremost, and he is the strongest and oldeft; the others follow, and all range themselves in order of battle to drive the other troop out of the good pafture. Thefe battles are fingular by the array and difpofition that appear to be obferved in them. They attack with regularity, engage with courage, fupport one another, and do not think themselves conquered by one check; for the battle is renewed every day, till the ftrongest drive away the weakest, and confine them to the indifferent part of the pafture. They are fond of riling grounds, and fuch as are interfected by little hills. They do not scout away as the ftag, when hunted; but only turn, and feek to fteal away from the dogs by craft, and putting them on a falfe fcent; yet, when they are hard preffed, heated, and fpent, they throw themfelves into water as the ftag, but they do not hazard the paffing of a water of any great extent; and to the hunting of the fallow-deer and of the ftag is without any effential difference. The underftanding or knowledge of the fallow-deer feems to be nearly upon a par with that of the ftag. The fame ftratagems are common to them, only they are more repeated by the fallow-deer. Being lefs enterpriling, and unwilling to run too far off, he has oftener an occafion to be accompanied, and return the fame way he caine, which generally makes the hunting of him more fubject to inconveniences than that of the ftag. Besides, as he is finaller and lighter, his tracks leave a lefs ftrong and durable impreffion; and this is the reafon that the dogs are not fo much upon their guard, when he substitutes another in his room, and it is more dif ficul ficult to come at him, when they are once at Fault. The fallow-deer is easily tamed; he eats many things which the ftag refufes, and therefore retains better his flesh and fat; for it does not appear that rutting, followed by the fharpeft and longeft winters, makes him grow lean or produces an alteration in him. He is almoft in the fame ftate the whole year round; he broufes closer than the ftag, and this occafions the wood cut by his teeth to be with greater difficulty reftored. The young eat fafter and more greedily than the old. They chew the cud, and feek the females from the fecond year of their life. They are not attached to the fame as the roeBuck, but change as the ftag. The fe nale goes eight months and fome days, and produces ufually one fawn, fometimes two, and very rarely three. They are in a state of engendering and producing from two years old to fifteen or fixteen. They, in fine, refem I 1 ble ftags by almost all their natural habitudes, and the greatest difference between them is the duration of life. We have faid, from the teftimony of huntfinen, that ftags live thirty-five or forty years, and we have been affured that the fallow-deer live only a bout twenty. Being fmaller, it is probable their growth is more rapid than that of the ftag; for in all animals the duration of life is proportionable to that of the growth, and not to the time of geftation, as may be thought, because here the time of geftation is the fame with the fallow-deer and ftag, and in other fpecies, as that of the ox, it is found that, though the time of geftation is very long, life is not the lefs fhort; confequently we should not measure its duration according to the time of geftation, but only ac cording to the time of growth, reckoning from the birth to the almost intire expansion of the animal's body. From the PUBLIC ADVERTISER, Wednesday February 14, 1770. My Lord, of cowardice, fhould protect him. I would purfue him through life, and try the laft exertion of my abilities to preferve the perish able infamy of his name, and render it im FI were perfonally your enemy, I might pity and forgive you. You have every claim to compaffion that can arife from mifery and diftress. The condition you are re-mortal. duced to would difarm a private enemy of his refentment, and leave no confolation to the most vindictive fpirit, but that fuch an object, as you are, would difgrace the dignity of revenge. But, in the relation you have borne to this country, you have no title to indulgence; and, if I had followed the dictates of my own opinion, I never fhould have allowed you the refpite of a moment. In your public character you have injured every fubject of the empire; and, though an individual is not authorised to forgive the injuries done to fociety, he is called upon to affert his feparate (hare in the public refentment. I fubmitted, however, to the judgment of men, more moderate, perhaps more candid than myself. For my own part, I do not pretend to understand thofe prudent forms of decorum, thofe gentle rules of difcretion, which fome men endeavour to unite with the conduct of the greatest and most hazardous affairs. Engaged in the defence of an honourable caufe, I would take a decifive part.-I fhould fcorn to provide for a future retreat, or to keep terms with a man, who preferves no measures with the public. Neither the abject fubmiffion of deferting his poft in the hour of danger, nor even the facred fhield What then, my Lord, is this the event of all the facrifices you have made to Lord Bute's patronage, and to your own unfor tunate ambition? Was it for this you aban→ doned your earliest friendships,-the warmest connexions of your youth, and all thofe ho nourable engagements, by which you once follicited, and might have acquired the ef teem of your country? Have you fecured no recompence for fuch a waste of honour? Unhappy man! what party will receive the common deferter of all parties? Without a client to flatter, without a friend to confole you, and with only one companion from the honest house of Bloomsbury, you must now retire into a dreadful folitude, which you have created for yourfelf. At the most active period of life you must quit the bufy fcene, and conceal yourself from the world, if you would hope to fave the wretched remains of a ruined reputation. The vices never fail of their effect. They operate like age-bring on dishonour before its time, and in the prime of youth leave the character broken and ex haufted. Yet your conduct has been myfterious, as well as contemptible. Where is now that firmness, or obftinacy, so long boasted of by your friends, and acknowledged by your enemies? We were taught to expect, that you would not leave the ruin of this country to be completed by other hands, but were determined either to gain a decifive victory over the Constitution, or to perish, bravely at least, in the laft dike of the Prerogative. You knew the danger, and might have been provided for it. You took fufficient time to prepare for a meeting with your P- -t, to confirm the mercenary fidelity of your dependants, and to Siggeft to your Sovereign a language fuited to his dignity, at least, if not to his benevolence and wisdom. Yet, while the whole kingdom was agitated with anxious expectation upon one great point, you meanly evaded the queftion, and, inftead of the explicit firmness and decifion of a K-, -, gave us nothing but the mifery of a ruined grafier, and the whining piety of a Methodist. We had reafon to expect that notice would have been taken of the petitions, which the K- has received from the English nation; and, although I can conceive fome perfonal motives for not yielding to them, I can find none, in common prudence or decency, for treating them with contempt. Be affured, my Lord, the English people will not tamely fubmit to this unworthy treatment;-they had a right to be heard, and their petitions, if not granted, deferved to be confidered. Whatever be the real views and doctrine of a Court, the Sn fhould be taught to preferve fome forms of attention to his fubjects, and, if he will not redress their grievances, not to make them a topic of jeft and mockery among Lords and Ladies of the Bedchamber. Injuries may be atoned for and forgiven; but infults admit of no compen fation. They degrade the mind in its own esteem, and force it to recover its level by revenge. This neglect of the petitions was, however, a part of your original plan of government, nor will any consequences it has produced account for your deferting your S. -n, in the midst of that diftrefs, in which you and your new friends had involved him. One would think, my Lord, you might have taken this fpirited refolution before you had diffolved the last of thofe early connexions, which once, even in your own opinion, did honour to your youth ;before you had obliged Lord Granby to quit a fervice he was attached to;-before you had discarded one Chancellor and killed ano. ther. To what an abject condition have you laboured to reduce the best of Princes, when the unhappy man, who yields at laft to fuch perfonal inftance and follicitation as never can be fairly employed against a fubject, feels himself degraded by his compliance, and is unable to furvive the difgraceful honours which his gracious Sn had compelled him to accept. He was a man of fpirit, for he had a quick fenfe of fhame, and death has redeemed his character. I know your Grace too well to appeal to your feelings upon this event; but there is another heart, not yet, I hope, quite callous to the touch of humanity, to which it ought to be a dreadful leffon for ever. Now, my Lord, let us confider the fituation to which you have conducted, and in which you have thought it advifeable to abandon your royal Mafter. Whenever the people have complained, and nothing better could be faid in defence of the measures of government, it has been the fashion to anfwer us, though not very fairly, with an appeal to the private virtues of our Sn: Has he not, to relieve the people, furrendered a confiderable part of his revenue? Has he not made the Judges independent, by fixing them in their places for life?-My Lord, we acknowledge the gracious principle which gave birth to these conceffions, and have nothing to regret but that it has never been adhered to. At the end of feven years, we are loaded with a debt of above five hundred thousand pounds upon the Civil Lift, and we now fee the Chancellor of Great Britain tyrannically forced cut of his office, not for want of abilities, not for want of integrity, or of attention to his duty, but for delivering his honeft opinion in P- -t, upon the greatest conftitutional queftion that has arifen fince the Revolution.-We care not to whose private virtues you appeal; the theory of fuch a government is falfhood and mockery;— the practice is oppreffion. You have laboured then (though, I confefs, to no purpose) to rob your Master of the only plaufible anfwer that was ever given in defence of his government,-of the opinion which the people had conceived of his personal honour and integrity.-The Duke of B-d was more moderate than your Grace. He only forced his Mafter to violate a folemn promife made to an individual. But you, my Lord, have fuccessfully extended your advice to every political, every moral engagement, that could bind either the Magiftrate or the man. The condition of a is often miferable, but it required your Grace's abilities to make it contemptible. You will fay, perhaps, that the faithful fervants, in whofe hands you have left him, are able to retrieve his honour and to fupport his government. You have publicly declared, even fince your refignation, that you approved of their meafures, and admired their charafters, particularly that of the Earl of S-d-h S-d-h.' What a pity it is, that, with all this approbation, you should think it necellary to feparate yourself from such amiable companions! You forget, my Lord, that, while you are lavish in the praife of men whom you defert, you are publicly oppofing your conduct to your opinions, and depriving yourfelf of the only plaufible pretence you had for leaving your S. -n overwhelm ed with diftrefs: I call it plaufible,' for, in truth, there is no reason whatsoever, less than the frowns of your Mafter, that could juftify a man of spirit for abandoning his poft at a moment fo critical and important. It is in vain to evade the question. If you will not speak out, the public have a right to judge from appearances. We are authorised to conclude, that you either differed from your collegues, whofe measures you ftill affect to defend, or that you thought the administration of the K-'s affairs no longer tenable. You are at liberty to chufe between the hypocrice and the coward. Your beft friends are in doubt which way they hall incline. -Your country unites the characters, and gives you credit for them both. For my own part, I fee nothing inconfiftent in your conduct. You began with betraying the people, --you conclude with betraying the K-. matter to recruit the black catalogue of your friends. The recollection of the royal patent you fold to Mr. Hine obliges me to lay a word in defence of a man whom you have taken the most difhonourable means to injure. I do not refer to the fham profecution which you affected to carry on against him. On that ground, I doubt not, he is prepared to meet you with ten-fold recrimination, and to fet you at defiance. The injury you have cone him affects his moral character. You knew that the offer to purchase the reverfion of a place, which has heretofore been fold' under a decree of the Court of Chancery, however imprudent in his fituation, would no way tend to cover him with that fort of guilt which you wished to fix upon him in the eyes of the world. You laboured, then, by every fpecies of falfe fuggestion, and even by publishing counterfeit letters, to have it understood, that he had propofed terms of accommodation to you, and had offered to abandon his principles, his party, and his friends. You confulted your own breast for a character of confummate treachery, and gave it to the public for that of Mr. Vaughan. I think myself obliged to do this juftice to an injured man, because I was deceived by the appearances thrown out by your Grace, and have frequently spoken of his conduct with indignation. If he really be, what I think him, honeft, though mistaken, he will be happy in recovering his reputation, though at the expence of his understanding. Here, I fee, the matter is likely to reit. Your Grace is afraid to carry on the prosecution. Mr. Hine keeps quiet poffeffion of his purchafe; and G-v-r B-ne, relieved from the apprehenfion of refunding the money, fits down, for the remainder of his life, In your treatment of particular perfons, you have preferved the uniformity of your character. Even Mr. Bradshaw declares, that no man was ever so ill-ufed as himself As to the provifion you have made for his family, he was intitled to it by the house he lives in. The fucceffor of one Chancellor might well pretend to be the rival of another. It is the breach of private friendship which touches Mr. Bradfhaw; and, to fay the truth, when a man of his rank and abilities had taken fo active a part in your affairs, he ought not to have been let down at last with a miferable penfion of fifteen hundred pounds a year. Colonel Luttrell, Mr. Onflow, and Mr. Burgoyne were equally engaged with you, and have rather more reafon to complain than Mr. Bradshaw. Thefe are men, my Lord, whofe friendship you thould have adhered to on the fame principle, on which you deferted Lord Rockingham, Lord Chatham, Lord Camden, and the Duke of Portland. We can eafily account for your violating your engagements with men of hoHour, but why should you betray your'natural' connexions? Why feparate yourself from Lord Sandwich, Lord Gower, and Mr. Rigby, or leave the three worthy Gentlemen abovementioned to shift for themselves? With all the fashionable indulgence of the times, this country does not abound in characters like theirs; and you may find it a difficult INF-MS AND CONTENTED. I believe, my Lord, I may now take my leave of you for ever. You are no longer that refolute Minister, who had fpirit to fupport the moft violent measures; who compenfated for the want of great and good qualities, by a brave determination [which fome people admired and relied on] to maintain himfeif without them. The reputation of obftinacy and perfeverance might have fupplied the place of all the abfent virtues. You have now added the laft negative to your character, and meanly confefled that you are deftitute of the common fpirit of a man. Retire then, my Lord, and hide your blushes from the world, for, with fuch a load of thame, even BLACK may change its colour. A mind fuch as your's, in the folitary hours of domeftic enjoyment, may still find topics of confolation. You may find it in the memory of violated friendship; in the afflictions of an accomplished Prince, whom you have difgraced and deferted, and in the agitations of a great country, driven by your councils to the brink of deftruction. The palm of minifterial firmness is now ransferred to Lord North. He tells us fo kimfelf with the plenitude of the Ore rotundo; and I am ready enough to believe, that, while he can keep his place, he will not eafily be perfuaded to retign it. Your Grace was the firm Minifter of yesterday. Lord North is the firm Minifter of to-day. To-morrow, perhaps, his M- -y, in his wildom, may give us a rival for you both. You are too well acquainted with the temper of your fate allies, to think it poffible that Lord North fhould be permitted to govern this country. If we may believe common fame, they have fhewn him their fuperiority already. His My is indeed too gracious to infult his fubjects, by chufing his firft Minifter from among the domeftics of the Duke of B-d. That would have been too grofs an outrage on the three kingdoms. Their purpofe, however, is equally anfwered by pushing forward this unhappy figure, and fercing it to bear the odium of meafures which they in reality direct. Without immediately appearing to govern, they poffefs the power, and diftribute the emoluments of government as they think proper. They ftill adhere to the spirit of that calculation which made Mr. Luttrell Reprefentative for Middlesex. Far from regretting your retreat, they affure us very gravely, that it increases the real strength of the Miniftry. According to this way of reafoning, they will probably grow ftronger and more flourishing every hour they exilt; for I think there is hardly a day paffes in which fome one or other of his Majefty's fervants does not leave them to improve by the lofs of his affiftance. But, alas! their countenances fpeak a different language. When the members drop off, the main body cannot be infenfible of its approaching dif folution. Even the violence of their proceedings is a fignal of despair. Like broken tenants who have had warning to quit the premifes, they curfe their landlord, destroy the fixtures, throw every thing into confus fion, and care not what mischief they do to the eftate. JUNIUS. An Account of the TRIP TO SCOTLAND, a new Dramatic Piece of one A&t. DRAMATIS PERSONA. CUPID; Mr. GRISKIN, a wealthy Citizen; Mifs GRISKIN, his Niece; JEMMY TWINKLE, a City Apprentice; Mrs. FILLAGREE, Houfe-keeper to Mr. Grifkin, and Governefs to Mifs; YOUNG COUPLES, LANDLADY, CHAMBERLAIN, HOUSE-MAID. Hoftlers, Poftilions, Servants of the Inn, &c. &c. &c. THE HE Scene of this piece, during part of the act, lies in London; and during the remainder of it in Yorkshire. The Prologue is spoken by Cupid, reprefenting a postchaile boy. After fome lively ftrokes upon the fafhionable mode of eloping to Scotland, he retires, and the play opens with a fcene Between Gritkin and his housekeeper, Mrs. Fillagree, whom he calls to a very fevere account for having fuffered Jemmy Twinkle, a city apprentice, to make love to his niece, and run away with her, as there is great reafon to fuppofe he has done, to Scotland. Mrs. Fillagree endeavours to vindicate herfelf with great spirit, but the old man is by no means fatisfied, and being determined to purfue the fugitive lovers, is for going out to befpeak a poft-chaife for that purpose, which Fillagree encourages him to do, and that he might not dally longer with her in trifling altercation, the forces him out of doors. Fillagree. (looking after him, and mocking him.) Ah, Griskin!-an old curmudgeonly fellow! if it was not for me, there would be no fpirit, politenefs, or generolity in the family.-Let me fee that he is gone tho'. Yes, the door claps; and from this window the freet, trot, trot, with his hands danglings I can obferve which way he goes.-0, down and his head noddling. O he is a fweet creature! He has turned the corner; and my young lovers. and now for Come out, ye couple of young handfome [Opening a clofet-door. devils you, come out. Here have I been fwearing through thick and thin for you. Jeminy and Mifs Grifkin entering, fte tells them they have no time to lofe; that her old mafter will never be able to overtake them; but if there should be the leaft likelihood of his doing fo, the will hire the poftboy to overturn him. Mifs, who seems very me |