Anfwer to G. R-f-y's Request. 253 ty and delightfulness. It bears the fame figure among the feafons, as the meng does among the divifions of the day, or youth among the ftages of la the opening of the fpring, * ail gat are begins to recover herthe fame animal pleasure which Nes the birds fing, and the whole in creation rejoice, rifes very fenfithe heart of man. I know none dents who have obferved fo well Milton thofe fecret over-flowings of shes which diffufe themfelves thro' mind of the beholder, upon fur-heart, and every action of her life, to Mag the gay fcenes of nature. He her new-made confidant, who too oftouched upon it twice or thrice in ten proves herself unworthy, and leaves is Paradife Loft, and defcribes it very the unhappy girl to lament over the utifully under the name of Vernal effects of ill placed kindness. But the Delight in the following paffage. could not have fuppofed that, under the mafk of goodnefs, bafe hypocrify and deep-laid treachery could have found a dwelling. to be as difinterested as themfelves--If they heartily love virtue, they are charmed with the appearance of it in another; and when joined with a pleafing perfon, and an engaging addrefs, it is found irrefiftable. The young adventurer now thinks, he has gained the wished-for prize, the is anxious to appear in the character, and share the pleafures of friendship. Boffoms and fruits at once of gelden hue prar'd, with gay enamell'd colours mixt. which the fun more glad ir prets'd his beams an in fair evening cloud, or humid bow, ut landskip: and of pure now purer a'r eets his approach, and to the heart infpires (To be continued.) Afwer to G. R's request. Their humble fervant, OPHELIA. NE of the first principles which Pleafed with the outfide show of what is amiable, fhe haftily and imprudently expoles every wish of her Let me befeach you, my young female readers, to be deliberate in the choice of Believe me, friends. your friendship is not the growth only of an hour; the fpark is fome time in kindling, but the longer it burns, the brighter is the flame. I know fome will affert, that kindred fouls may be drawn by a tender fympathy, (even, on a first interview) to commence a friendship, and that the impulfe is fo ftrong it is not in our powers to refift it. The idea is a pleating, but a very dangerous one to indulge. A lively imagination will carry a young perfon to great lengths, and raife the attractions of the perfon admired extremely; but this is fcarcely any excufe for determining too rafhly in fo important an affair, as the choice of a friend; for, we are to remember )NE the that fine-feelings were given us to pro it of happiness: the defire com- mote our own and others happiness; nces almost as foon as we draw our and therefore we are undoubtedly culth, nor quit we the fearch, till pable, if by a mifapplication of the eath quits us. To an open generous bleffings of Providence, we make ournd, friendship seems the most agree-felves wretched.-Befides, they who road, and they pursue it as the poffefs quick parts are likewife endued ateft earthly good. Warm with with a fufficient fhare of good sense to thful expectation, they fear no dan-direct how far they fhould be exercifed. ; and judging by the fincerity of Fancy may do very well under proper ir own hearts, they conclude others restraints, but you would fix her in a wrong wrong fphere, if you were to put her in the place of realon. Never enter into a ftrict intimacy with a perfon who is dependent upon yourself or family. They will flatter you in order to fecure your intereft, and never diffuade you from what you have an inclination to, tho' it may prove your ruin, for fear of offending you, and thereby lofing the advantages which your friendship gives or procures for them. I confefs I think that very young people fhould never make bofom friends of their inferiors, tho' they ought to be treated with the utmoft affability, and the diftreffes of poverty alleviated by the bounty of the affluent; yet we should do well to remember, that it is no act of charity, or fign of true humility, to entruft them with our fecrets; as by fo doing, we confer no benefit on them, tho' we may injure ourselves materially. Far be it from me to intimate that there | are not many in the lowest stations of life, who poffefs all thofe good qualities, which adorn a higher rank; but permit me to fay, that it requires a greater fhare of penetration, and deeper knowledge of the world, to difcover these treasures thro' the obfcurity which surrounds them, than youthful years can have obtained. I must repeat it, ladies, that you cannot be too nice and delicate in the choice of an intimate friend. Your happiness, your reputation, your connections in life, and finally your principles, both with regard to religion and virtue, depend upon it. Can I fay more to imprefs you with a juft fenfe of the importance of the fubje&t?— Let me not be more folicitous for welfare, than you are for your own. your it from that of history, it is becaufe the two sciences are infeparable, and that the one is, as it were, the bafis and foundation of the other. Indeed, of what utility is a barren acquaintance with the events and facts, if we do not adjoin also an acquaintance of the countries and places where those events and facts have happened? Hiftory, which is the beft fchool for mankind, what would it be better than a dark and impenetrable dungeon, unless it were illumined by the torch of geography ?-It has the fame influence upon poetry, and all other kinds of literature: geography is that which enlightens; geography that which adorns! -The proof of this is obvious-If we caft an eye back upon antiquity, beginning with Homer, whom Strabo very aptly calls the first of geographers, we fall fee that this great poet, after having, in the first book of the Iliad, stated the obstacles which fufpended the operations at the fiege of Troy, employed the next book in a geographical detail, not only of all the parts of Greece, and of each town in particular, but alfo of all the provinces of Afia Minor which bounded the empire of Priam, and all the cities which lay on that fide the Hellefpont. After Homer the most celebrated men have paid the fame attention to geography. An Aximander of Miletus, who was as a scholar of Tallas, (perfuaded that the defcription of places imprinted themselves more easily on the memory when they were rendered fenfible, and as it were perfonified to the eyes) was the first man who marked upon cloth or canvas the different portions and divifions of land and water. Then, in order to give a clear idea of the figure and fhape of the earth, and form into a picture its like On the UTILITY of the STUDY of GE- nefs, he represented the ocean and the earth on globes. On the Study of Geography. of maps but nothing proves this more evidently than the conduct of Theophraftus, the fucceffor of Ariftotle. That great man, after having given all possible application to bring that ftudy to perfection, did not content himself with compofing maps which reprefented and delineated the different parts of the world, but to render his labours more useful to the young people of Athens, he ordered in his will that large maps fhould be hung up upon the columns of the Roman porticoes, under which the youth were accustomed to affemble to take their leffons from the philofophers. Experience, no doubt, had fhewn him that young men are most affected by fenfible ideas, and that it is only by the medium of the fenfes we can hope to fix any thing in their me mory. A tafte for the ftudy of geography, as well as of other fciences, having paffed from the Greeks to the Romans, it was not long before maps and globes were publicly expofed and explained in the capitol of Rome, to those who were defirous to understand them. Varro writes that he had painted every part of Italy upon a temple dedicated to Tellus, the goddefs of the earth. Vitruvius and Suetonius make mention of geographical maps, which were used in the cities, and even upon the feas, from the main ocean, even to the fmall rivers. Ptolemy affures us, that befides maps, the Romana had a kind of sphere or globe, whereon the earth was reprefented in mini ature. The love of geography and letters communicated themfelves infenfibly from Italy to the provinces of the empire, and extended themselves every where in proportion to the Roman conquests, but more particularly in Gaul. The fingle example of the fchool of Autun, which was the moft celebrated in Gaul for a long time before the arrival of Julius Cæfar, is fufficient to give us an idea of the affiduity with 255 which he cultivated the Audy of geography. In a difcourfe of Eumenes the orator, who taught eloquence in the town where he was born, we find him thus addreffing the governor of the Gauls, in order to engage the establifhment of certain public buildings, at the expence of the state. "At length," fays he, "I would recommend that our young men fhould both fee and contemplate every day, under the porticoes, all the land and all the water, the cities and the inhabitants, the nations which our invincible princes have recovered by their clemency, fubdued by their valour, or by the terror of their arms: this I would advise, because I know we learn more eafily by our eyes, than by our ears. I could wish to have traced upon our maps, and fpherical inftruments, the fituation and the name of every place, with the distance of one from the other, the course of the rivers, their fources, where they empty themfelves, and whence they are fupplied; I would alfo have marked all the gulphs which feed the ocean: in fhort, every part of the deep should be an object of my inftruction." This force of authority, fo refpectable, fo uniform, and fo inexhauftible, collected from the moft brilliant ages of antiquity, and handed down to us by a tradition the most exact, incontrovertibly proves that the ftudy of geography is one of the most effential, and, if I may fay fo, one of the most vital parts of education. From thefe obfervations then the following truth may be deduced, that if we do not encourage geography to walk arm in arm with hiftory, our youth, af ter having paft many years in ftudying other fciences, will find themfelves deprived of the precious advantage, which they ought both as scho lars and gentlemen, moft affiduously to have fought. M******. Account of the new Tragedy called FA- I TAL FALSHOOD, performed for the first Time at Covent-Garden Theatre on Thursday Evening, May 6. DRAMATIS PERSONE. Earl Guildford, an Mr. Clarke. Lord Rivers, his Mr. Lewis. Orlando, an Ita paffionately enamoured of him; but that Julia, the betrothed and beloved mitrels of Rivers, had caught the heart of the Count, notwithstanding his plighted faith to Emelina, and his high obligations to the man who had faved his life, and honoured him with his esteem and confidence. Bertrand infinuates himself into the confidence of Orlando, and in order to accomplish his own diabolical purpofes, encourages him to perfevere in lian Count, the Mr. Wroughton. his paflion for Julia. Rivers now ar friend of Lord Rivers, Bertrand, a cou fin, and depend- Mr. Aickin. ant on the Earl, }, Emelina, daughter Mifs Younge. of Guildford, Julia, her coufin, but not filter to J Bertrand, THE Mrs. Hartley. rives, but in the midft of his joy and congratulations, he is molt unexpectedly involved in a quarrel with his friend for having injured his fifter.—— Orlando makes the moft open and unreferved confeffions, and draws a dagger to kill himself; Emelina ftops his hand, but the author never lofes fight of the dagger after it is first produced. By the arts of Bertrand, Orlando is HE play opens with a foliloquy induced, notwithstanding his peniby Bertrand, who tells the au- tence, to make a moft ftrange and defdience, with great fang froid, that he perate effort to defer the marriage for is a villain; he then makes feveral one day, though no motive is affigned. critical remarks on the different, modes He draws his dagger in the prefence and fpecies of villany, and declares of Julia, threatens to kill himself, and himself to be one of the most compleat hints the moft bloody emotions of and cunning rafcals that ever exifted. I mind respecting her, if the meets RiThis very inartificial and unnatural vers at the altar that day, or acquaints method of drawing a flage character, him with the motive of her refufakis much too common; but we never This, in the event, has no effect whatobferved it to be carried fo far as in ever, but to alarm Rivers, and to prothis inftance, or the compliment of duce fituations at which the author felf-approbation by the author, on has palpably aimed, though they do drawing this character, fo very gla- not naturally arife from the story. ring. All the audience learn, by the recital of a number of names with which they are yet unacquainted, is, that he hopes to obtain the poffeflion of Guildford's eftate by deftroying his children, unless he can obtain the poffeffion of Emelina. All the characters, except Bertrand, are drawn fuch paragons of vir-. tue, they preach, proteft, and apoftrophize fo much, and fo frequently declare their good intentions, that, in fpite of the author, the ftory is feveral times on the point of ending hap In the fubfequent fcenes the audi-pily, and fpoiling the tragedy. ence are told that Rivers is then abroad, pursuing the career of glory, and that Orlando, an Italian officer of great worth and high rank, whofe life had been faved in battle by Rivers, then refided in the cattle of earl Guildford; that he had paid his addreflis to Emelina, in which he had fo compleatly fucceeded, that he is become Orlando is detected by Rivers, but he lays open his bofom to his fword, and Rivers is thus compelled to forgive his treachery. He then propofes to retire to Italy to hide his fhame aud difappointment, and tells Guildford that he cannot marry his daughThis produces a molt ftrange icene, abounding in falfe pomp, and ter. most unnatural On the Power of Philofophy. 257 declamation be- The CONSOLATION of HUMAN LIFE, or a DIALOGUE on the POWER of PHILOSOPHY to juftain the MIND under AFFLICTION. By the late Rev. Dr. LANGHORNE. tween the father and daughter, in which the affumes the character of a heroine and a faint, in order to fupport her mind against the disappointment of being what the calls rejected by the Count. Bertrand is now in danger of lofing the effects of all his cunning and vil ftand, (Concluded from Page 207) Pharamond. lany, and the play is fairly at a good THAT in one fenfe, is allowable when he is, by a ftrange piece of Yet queftion whether the prifortune, employed by Julia as the mef-vilege you fpeak of has not destroyed fenger of a letter to Rivers: this he delivers to Orlando, perfuades him it was intended for him, and it moft cleverly Happens, that there is no name or expreffion which contradicts the falfhood. more of the human fpecies, than would have fallen under the fuperior ftrength of favages, in a reafonuble conteft for maft and acorns. Fred. I know not how to deny it. Phar. Nay, the very dans of North America will tell you, that when you brought the improvements of fociety among them, you opened many doors for death. Fred. Nothing more ce Phar. What, then, is this Do.... 1 Thus encouraged, his virtue again forfakes him; he determines to carry off Julia, and repairs to the appointment he had found in the letter. Bertrand difguifes and conceals himself, after telling the audience, in a long foHiloquy, how well he had contrived to deftroy Rivers, and impute the mur-privilege of reafon? Of reafon in its der to Orlando. Orlando fees him in moft cultivated ftate? I am afraid this the fhade in this difguife, imagines moral defence is but a forry alternahim to be Rivers, and, in defiance of tive for natural prowess, conftituevery trait of character which had tional freedom, firminefs of body, and heen given him, ftabs his friend to the the uniform enjoyment of health and heart. He then enters in a state of vigour. This very reafon, which, you horror, and finding that he had been say, nature has given us by way of ar deceived in his hopes of Julia, is on mour and fecurity, what has it done? the point of distraction at the idea of It has taught us to affociate, I own it, having murdered his friend, when Ri-and brought home to us thofe confevers enters. All parties are now in quences of fociety, we call the imraptures of joy, and the death of Ber-provements and advantages of life. trand, whom nobody regards, fur- But how miftaken are we in our terms! nishes nothing like the terror of pity, Thefe improvements of life are the which the denouement of a tragedy re-advantages of death! Who will have quires, when Emelina, who had been the hardiness to affirm, that in proalmoft forgot, fuddenly enters, and af- portion as fociety has been cultivated, ter all her parade of heroifm, it very human life has been lengthened, has unexpectly appears that he is gone been fecured? The luxury and corrupmad becaufe her fweetheart had de- tion, confequent on that cultivation, ferted her. In two minutes fhe drops tell us a lefs pleafing truth. down dead upon the flage, without any apparent caufe, for to die of a broken heart muft neceffarily have taken a great deal more time. Orlando now, with fome propriety, draws Fred. That nature has taken but the dagger which he had fo often bran- little care for the prefervation of hudifhed, and ftabs himself; which fur-man life, fince reafon, the only visible niches as deep and pathetic a tragedy as means of defence he has given us, could reasonably be expected. has, in general, contributed rather to LI VOL. X. Fred. You are arrived at the point in view, without giving me the trouble of conducting you. Phar. What do you mean? the |