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mount a coach together, exchange mutual civilities on the way, then alight in the “Bois de Boulogne,” and with the utmost pleasantry imaginable, give one another the choice of having their throats cut, or their brains blown out. In England, they lay their hat, wig and clothes in the middle of the street, and bruise each other with their fists till they are tired. This effect of rage, the least silly of all of them, inasmuch as it is least dangerous, has its particular rules, from which the combatants must never deviate, and which, besides, the spectators always take care shall be observed. The combatants are forbidden to strike each other any where below the waistband. They must not pull one another's hair, if they happen to have any; nor must either strike his antagonist while he is down. They may kill one another if they can, by blows on the head and breast, and the victor is carried off in triumph by the enraptured multitude.
ANECDOTES OF WEST, THE PAINTER. Mr. EDITOR. The following anecdotes of Mr. West I had from his own mouth, in a conversation which I enjoyed with him at his house, on the 15th of November, 1807. I put them to paper the instant I returned home; and, as whatever relates to the public character of a great man is public property, I trust I am not acting improperly in offering them for the enrichment of your miscellany.
I am, sir, your humble servant. When Mr. West was painting his Death of Wolfe, an heroic pictyre, which was treated in so novel a manner that the artist thought to conceal it until its completion, archbishop Drummond, for whom Mr. West had before painted his Agrippina, accidentally came into the room, and was so greatly struck with that boldness of innovation which dressed an heroic action in modern attire, that, after some questions of doubt as to its success, he went for Sir Joshua Reynolds, and in less than an hour they were both in Mr. West's painting room. When Sir Joshua came in, he expressed the greatest alarm for Mr. West's reputation, warned him of his hazardous attempt, and told him the people of England would never be reconciled to heroes in coats and waistcoats. However, Mr. West said he would send for the archbishop and Sir Joshua when the picture was completed, and, if they condemned it
then, it should go into his closet; but that he had determined to venture upon a picture which would speak to the meanest intellects, to show some illiberal critics, who had before accused him of plagiary from old basso relievos, that he could paint from himself. When the picture was completed, Mr. West brought his friends to view it, according to his engagement. Sir Joshua stood silent before it about a quarter of an hour, and then very liberally told Mr. West that the picture would not only succeed, but would open a new era in painting.
Garrick offered to lie for Wolfe; but Mr. West refused the offer upon the plea that if the general were painted from the actor, the figure would inevitably be Garrick, and not Wolfe.
Mr. West expresses himself highly thankful that his studies in painting were unknown and unregarded as they were; for by that means he went to them without any of those prejudices which schools impart. When Mr. West went to Italy, so far was he from relishing the style of painting which then obtained there, that he saw and ridiculed its absurdities at once. At that time nothing was painted there but madonas and children, with perhaps two or three Cupids in the air; and, in England, no characters in an heroic picture were represented in any thing else than Roman or Gothic armour. Even Sir Joshua Reynolds, till after Mr. West's time, never painted a portrait but in a fancy dress. All this was altered by West's Death of Wolfe; and it was for this style of painting, and not for his Regulus (the first picture Mr. West painted for the king) or his Agrippina, that France eulogized Mr. West when they gave him that sumptuous entertainment upon admitting him a member of the National Institute.
Ricant, in his History of the Turks, says of them, that they so confound chronology and history, as to assert that Job was a judge in the court of King Solomon, and ALEXANDER THE GREAT one of his generals.
If so it be I've gain’d the shore
Be not proud, but now incline
health or comes or goes;
But you must die
Here down my wearied limbs I'll laý,
At my uprising next, I shall,
UPON BEN JONSON.
After the archpoet, Jonson, died,
AN EPITAPH UPON A VIRGIN.
TO DAISIES, NOT TO SHUT SO SOON.
Has not as yet bagun
Or to seal up the sun.
No marigolds yet closed are,
No shadows great appear;
Shine like a sparkle here.
Her life-begetting eye;
Itself to live or die.
THE WILLOW GARLAND.
Perfum'd, last day, to me,
I was forsook by thee.
To-morrow thou shalt see
With garlands drest; so I