bas often wrought a defeat, when paHowever, I imagine that jealousy.is tience would have fecured a victory.the motive which induces the. Spa, He was going on in the fententious stile, niards to conceal their wives in this when Trueman, to convince him he manner, or rather that it is the perfidy might have fome. dependence on his of the women, which forces their hulpractising the virtue he had recom-bands to this kind of tyranny. Conmended, eagerly interrupted to affure him that he fhould be all fubmiffion, and wait all his motions with the greatest refignation.

(To be continued.)

LETTERS of AZ A.

(Continued from Page 646.)

But not by the Author of THE OLD
ENGLISH BARON.

LETTER XVIIL

To KAN HUISCA P.

OFF

jugal, fidelity is a very eafy vow: is it
then any trange thing that it fhould
be fo little regarded? You
may daily
fee many rich couples joined together
who form their alliance without fenfi-
bility, live together without love, and
feparate without regret. How little
foever you may think of the unhappi-
nefs of this itate, it is nevertheless un-
fortunate. To be loved by one's wife
is not a happiness, it is a misfortune ta
be hated by her.

The celibacy prescribed by religion is not more regarded than conjugal tenderness, or, if it be, it is fo only externally.

There are here fome virgins dedica ted to the deity, as well as in the city of the Sun. They neverthelefs con verfe familiarly with, the men a grate only feparates them. Yet, I cannot guefs the motive of this feparation; for if they are, able, to preferve their virtue. in the midit of men who are continually reforting to them, of what ufe is the grate and if love fhould feize on their heart, what foible is it to oppofe to it a feducing feparation, which leaves the eyes at liberty to fee, and the heart to act?

Fall the ftrange things which furround me, nothing furprifes me more than the manner in which the Spaniards behave towards their wives. The particular folicitude which they fhew in concealing them under an immenfe load of drapery, would make one almost think that they are rather their fealers than their husbands. What other motive could be affigned, but that it arifes from apprehenfion, that the right owners would not fell again a treafure, which they had been robbed of, or A kind of Cucipatas are affiduous elfe why should they be afhamed to a-in their attendance on their virgins, dorn themfelves with the gifts of love? who are called Religieufes, and under Thefe favages are ftrangers to the the pretext of infpiring them with the pleafures of being feen in the company pureft fentiments of religion, they give of those whom they love, of fhewing birth to and cherish the flames of love, of the delicacy of their choice, or the which they are the prey. Though art value of their conqueft, to burn in pub- appears to be banished from their fic with the fires which are lighted in hearts, it is not from their drefs and fecret, and to fee thofe homages per their geftures. A plait in a veil, a modeft petuated by a thousand hearts, which look, a ftudied mien, is enough to em a fingle one is not fufficient to render ploy the whole time, the pains, and to beauty. Zilia! deareft Zilia! ye even the vigils of a Religieuse for a quar cruel deities! why do you ftill rob meter of a year. The eyes of a Reitgerft, of the fight of her! My looks, meet-therefore, are more intelligent than ing her's with tenderuefs and delight, thofe of others. They are the canyas would teach these fenfeless creatures whereon you may fee all the fentiments that no ornaments are more precious of the heart pourtrayed. Tenderness, than the chains of love. innocence, languor, defpair, and plea

fure,

if we may fay it,has nothing to do with
them; they want only to know its ef-
fects: in which they, refemble those
that exprefs an averfion to an excellent
liquor, at the very inftant that they
are told that comes from an obfcure
place.

fure, are all expreffed, thereon, and if
the curtain fhould intercept the fight
of the canvas for a moment, it is only
to fubftitute another in its ftead. What
a difference is there between the first
look of a Religieufe and that which fuc-
ceeds it! All this addrefs is however
nothing but the work of a fingle man.
A Cucipatas has the care of a houfe of
virgins; they all strive to please him;
they turn coquets, and the director,
however grofa he may be, is forced to
practife coquetry himself: gratitude
obliges him to do fo; and fure of pleaf-
ing, he feeks for new means of mak-culties of his foul,
ing himself loved, fucceeds, and at lait,
if I may be allowed the expreffion,
makes himfelf adored.

After all this, Kanhuifcap, can you help thinking that the Spaniards are as ridiculous in their amours, as they are infenfible in their cruelties? Alonzo's houfe, I believe, is the only one which is the refidence of rectitude and reafon; notwithstanding I cannot tell what to think of the looks of Zulmira: too tender to be only the effect of art, they are too much studied to be conducted by the heart.

LETTER

XIX.

It is from the fame principle, that a metaphyfician intoxicated with a defcovery, which he thinks very few are apprised of, miffes no opportunity of difplaying his knowledge. Should he write to his mistress, his letter is nothing but a minute analysis of the fa

His miftrefs thinks herself obliged to aufwer in the fame tone, and they perplex each other with these chimerical distinctions, and thofe expreffions, which though they have the fanction of cuftom, render nothing intelligible.

The reflections you make on the manners of the Spaniards, will leadyou infenfibly to those which I am going to make.

I wish my heart were free!: Generous friend, I will give you as ftrong a defcription as L can of my thoughts, which have no other order but that which I can give them, in my present The time approaches emotions. wherein my troubles will ceafe. Zilia, To KAN HUISC A P in a word, will, foon appear to my imTHINKING may be mechanical, patient eyes. The very thoughts of this pleasure unhinges my reafon. I to know one's felf is a real accomplishment. It is not granted to every fly to her; I fee that the fhares my impatience, my transports; the tears of man, Kanhuifcap, to know his own heart. Some kind of philofophers tenderness flow from our eyes: reunited after our misfortunes, what claim a kind of property to it, or rafoul!ther to confufe its ideas. Inftead of painful arrow has pierced my attaching themselves to the correcting Kanhuifcap, in what a fhocking conof their paffions, they content them-dition will fhe foon find me! The felves with the knowledge of their bafe flave of a barbarian, whofe chains caufes, and this knowledge, which he perhaps groans under, can the reought to make the vicious blush, only cognife her lover at the court of an infolent conqueror? Does he think that ferves to fhew them their peculiar merit; the fruitless talent of difcovering any obftacles have been ftrong enough,, Kanhuifcap?-What can I expect? their defects. When I was worthy of her, O cruel. deity! thou didst tear her from my arms: wilt thou decree that, the shall only prove an eye witnefs of my igno miny? And thou, O barbarous element, who restoreft me the object of iny love, wilt thou reftore me my glory!

The metaphyficians, the appellation of thefe philofophers, diftinguish our compofition into three parts, the foul, the fpirit, and the heart: and all their knowledge goes no farther, than to know which of these distinctions produce fuch and fuch an action. Virtue,

LET

LETTER XX.

T. KANHUISCA P.

my foul!-Thou!-My hands deny me their affiftance-my grief overwhelms me. Horrid defpair!-Tears -love-an unknown chillacis-Zilia! Kanhuifcap! Zilia.

LETTER

XXI.

WHAT cruel deity is it that fnatches me from the obfcurity of the grave; what perfidious pity makes me behold that light again,which I deteft? Kauhuifcap, my misfortunes revive with my reviving life, and my ftrength increafes with the increase of my forrow.ment, Kanbuifcap, when the knot!

T. KAN HUISCA P.
HOW great will be thy aftonish-

Zilia is no more! O dreadful thought! which my bands could hardly form, O cruel-Zilia is no more; and I ftill fhall inform you that I am still living. refpire, and my hands which my grief My grief, defpair, and the interval ought to chain, can ftill form thofe which I have paffed without informing ties which are led by forrow, bedew-you of this circumftance, fhould have ed with tears, and sent to thee by def-confirmed your fufpicions of my fate. pair. Ceafe the regrets due to friend hip, The fun has rug a third of his courfe efteem, and misfortune, and iuffer not, in vain, fince you have pierced my the life I now enjoy to permit you to heart with the moft cruel dart. De-deplore my weakness. It was in vain jection, annihilation have captivated that the lofs of Zilia should be accom my heart in vain to this moment. My panied with that of my life; the gods, grief, ftifled to no effect, becomes who might have excufed the crime' the rather more lively, I have loftthat would have put an end to my life, Zilia. A boundtefs fpace of time feems deprived me of the power of committo have feparated us, and I loofe herting it. at laft. The dreadful blow which rob- Abandoned to grief, I fcarcely felt bed me of her, the perfidious element the approaches of death, which was which enclofes her, all prefent them about to terminate all my misfortunes. felves to my afflicted mind. I fee Zi-A dangerous diffemper fcized on me, Ha rifing of the furface of the perfidious waves, the fun hides itself with horror, in the profound abyfs; the opening fea endeavours to conceal its I am ftill alive; but only to be the crime from this deity; but it cannot fport of the most cruel torments. Everob me of her. Through the tranf-ry thing feems interefting in the dreadparent mirror of the waves, I can fee ful ftate in which I am. The friendthe corpfe of Zilia-her eyes-a livid fhip of Alonfo, the grief of Zulmira, palenes. My friend!-inexorable their attentions, their tears, lay me uncath! Ye deities more cruel in your der inexpreffible obligations. Defobleffings than in your punishments!-late amidit a crowd of mortals which Ye deities, who continue my life, will you not reunite thofe whom you can not feparate?

Kanhuifcap, I invoke death in vain, who turns a deaf ear to my invocations, and preferves his arrows for thofe who fhun them.

Zilia, my dearest Zilia, liften to my cries, behold my tears; thou art no more, I live only to fhed them, why cannot I drown myfelf in the torrent, which they will foon form! Why can not 1-Art thou net ftill the foul of

and would have fent me to the grave, if the officious interpofition of Alonzo had not lengthened the thread of life,

furrounded me, I notice them only to avoid them. May, Kanhuifcap, a friend lefs unfortunate than myfelf reward thy virtue. Too unfortunate to be a fenfible friend, can I relifh the fweets, of friendfhip, where love gives me up to the most cruel agonies?

་་

Method of curing ropy Beer.

SPEARE.

711

In our last we inferted fome ftrictures from a new periodical paper ftiled SHAKESPEARE, on the character of Miranda in the Tempest. As we are. honoured with the author's thanks, and the communication of No. II. which developes the character of Falfaff, we imagine that the following extract will not fail of meeting with the approbation of our fair readers, and recommending thefe lu cubrations to their patronage.

much affected with my misfortunes, Charader of FALSTAFF, from SHAKEAlonzo has tried to diffipate them, or at least to share with me in my forrow. With this intention he has conduct me to his villa fome miles from Madrid. Here I have enjoyed the pleafure of meeting nothing which does not correfpond with the abjectness of my mind. A wood that is near Alonzo's palace, has been long the depofitory of my fecret griefs; there I find nothing but objects fuited to cherish my forrow. Frightful rocks, lofty mountains ftripped of their verdure, muddy torrents that ruu through mire, black pines, whofe gloomy tops feem to touch the clouds, thirsty plains, withered flowers, ravens and ferpents, are here the only witneffes of my tears.

Alonzo knew foon how to tear me, against my will, from thefe melancholy feats. It was then that I underftood how much misfortunes are afTwaged by participation, and how much I was indebted to the tendernefs of Zulmira and Alonzo. How can I find colours to paint to thee, Kanhuifcap, the diftrefs occafioned by my misfortunes! Zulmira, the kind Zulmira honoured them with her tears.

Her grief almost equalled mine. Pale, dejected, her eyes joined mine in fhed ding tears, while Alonzo deplored my misfortunes.

(To be continued.)

SHAKESPEARE.
NUMBER II.

FALSTAFF.

"That reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in years!-Wherein is he good, but to taste fack, and drink it?-Wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a capon, and eat it?-Wherein cunning, but in craf:? Wherein crafty but in villainy? A herein villainous, but in all things? Wherein worthy, but in nothing!"

IN

IN

The firft Part of Henry IV. A& 4, Sc. 11.

Falstaff are to be found the traits

of an artful, ambitious, vain, voluptuous, avaricious, cowardly, fatirical, pleafant-witted knave.

It may be matter for aftontfhment, that fo confpicuous a knave could render himself fo agrecable to an audience, as to afford more general entertainment than. I believe any character has done that was ever exhibited on the itage. To unravel the caule may be both entertaining and interesting.

Fallaff made the pleafantnefs of his wit the ladder to his knavifh defigns, and dependence on Prince Henry.

He appears to know not only the key, but the wards of that key to the human heart, and how to adapt them to any lock of treasure he had a defign againft.

His intimacy with the prince he herished for thefe reafons, it gratif ed his vanity, fed his expectations, was his fhield from juftice, and gained him credit and authority over his myrmidons.

His answer to the prince's queftion, "Where shall we take a purse to-morrow, Jack?"

He difplays his knowledge how to 1 win the heart, by confidering that when saman herds with his inferiors, it is moft commonly for the purpose mereAy of enjoying that authority and comfhews how eafy it is to detect the prelimentary homage which he could not tenfions of artifice, when you know the among his equals therefore he com-key-note of the foul: touch but the pliments Hal (as he familiarly calls thim, the better to disguise his artifice) with

I pray thee, fweet wag."

Again he exerts his artifice to know if Hal has any particular knowledge of their hoftefs, in laying,

“And is not faine hoftefs of the 'tavern a moft fweet wench?”

ring, and all the affections 'are' în noifon with it: if you find any founds of difcord, be affured they do not belong to the intrunient. So it is with Falftaff: when thieving is mentioned, He is all over the thief, and therefore his folate refolution of reforming discorded with himself: it did not belong to him. It was the fhadow of repentance, which fled at the profpect of his avarice' being gratified: he flies from praying to purfe-taking."

Falltaff, like other villains, can ex

time he does to others. He fays,

Hal: 'tis no fin for a man to labour "Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, in his vocation."

If he could have attained this knowedge, he thought he should have held him and his favours under more concufe himself to himself at the fame troul. But the prince, with a pene -tration perfectly agreeable to his hifto rical character, fees the defign, and foils it by a queftion as foreign to that fubject, as Falstaff's was to that of the preceding. When the prince refuses to join them Balita ftill perfifts to fift him, al in the robbery, he touches the afterthough in a manner which may be unftrings of Hal's heart. He knew the derstood in a different fenfe, if the prince chofe not to give a direct an fwer to the question meant, which is, "Well, thou hast call'd her to a reckoning many a time and oft.”

Prince Henry anfwers the words in a literal fenfe, fo that Falftaff urges the matter no further, but continues the difcourfe as the prince chofe to underftand it.

The reafon of his affording fo much entertainment, is the fame that excufes prince Henry's being fo fond of his company. He flatters while he reproves, is always in a good temper, though apparently against his inclination. His knavery, vices, and follies The frankly confeffes, which leffens that abhorrence we fhould otherwise have

for him, and prepares us to be the
more pleafed with the pleafantry of his
humour; this being much greater than
his wit, which is in general but paltry
puns, "
quips and quiddities," to ufe
his own expreffion.

price was honelt, courageous, and poffeffed a hearty 'fellowship for his companions, and to call thefe in queftion might touch him fo nearly, as to induce him to give his company. Befides, to tempt him the more, he adds a piece of political fatire, to fhew that thieving is practifed by those who pretend to difcountenance it.

The following fhould teach our fuperiors the pernicious effects of bad example. It adds to the eagerness of doing wrong, when it is fanctified by the participation of those we look up to for example, Even the abandoned Falftaff was defirous to receive the fan&tion of his prince partaking in his crime

"That the true prince may (for recreation fake) prove a falfe thief for the poor abufes of the time want

countenance."

It has been a much difputed point whether Falstaff were a coward or not. If an involuntary betraying of fear in the

mo