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tore furnished them with, and I could not withhold it from them.”

ON ANCIENT ROME.

Translated from Petrarch.
“ Here stood the august, and ancient seat of empire,
In war victorious, dreaded e'en in peace.
Here stood, alas ! its place is only seen;
“ And what was Rome;" lies buried in its ruins,
Those lofty structures, whose aspiring heads,
Tower'd up to Heaven, are levell’d with the earth,
O'ergrown with weeds, and trampled under foot.
Rome, which was once, the mistress of the world,
Yields to the tooth of all-devouring Time,
Which levels heights, and raises humble plains.
Rome, is no longer Rome-The fire and sword
Her grandeur have destroy'd, and laid in dust
The noblest works of Nature, and of Art,
And here, her scatter'd fragments lie interr’d.

· INSTANCES OF SPANISH VANITY.

The grave and phlegmatic air of the Spaniard, is taken by strangers, for pride : but, it is not so always.--It must, however, be granted, that this nation is remarkable for a certain haughtiness, which may be attri

buted to the extent of its conquests---to the grand ideas it entertains of its origin ; and perhaps, to the majesty of its language. It is not only among people of condition, that Spanish pride is most apparent; a tradesman, and even one of the lowest class, a mean beggar retains, in the midst of wretchedness, a deportment and tone of confidence, which seem to raise him above his condition. Here, may be remembered, the answer of the beggar, at Madrid, to a passenger, who reproached him, with preferring laziness to useful labour. “ It is money, and not advice that I ask you for,” said the beggar, turning his back upon him, with all the gravity of a Castillian.

The French have endeavoured to ridicule the Spanish gravity, by this short story :

A certain cavalier, as noble as the King, as catholic as the Pope, and as poor as Job, arrived in the night-time, at a village in France, where there was only one inn. As it was past midnight, he knocked for aslong time at the door, without being able to awake the landlord ; but at last made him rise, by louder and more frequent rapping. " Who is there?” cried the landlord from a window. “ It is” says the Spaniard, “ Don Juan Pedro, Hernandez, Roderique-de-villa-nova Conde de Malazza, Cavalero de Santiago D’Alcan'tara.” • The landlord answered him, immediately shutting the window.....“ Sir, I am very sorry, but we have not chambers enough, for lodging all those gentlemen." · It is usual to see, at Rome, a great mul

titude of poor from all countries, to whom soup is distributed at a certain hour, at the gate of the monasteries. A Castillian, newly arrived, and who was unacquainted with the time of the distribution, addressed himself to a poor French ecclesiastic, to be informed of it. But Spanish vanity, would not suffer him to ask in plain terms after the house, where the soup was given. This way of speaking, seemed to him too mean ; so that after studying a more ele. vated way of expressing himself, he asked the Frenchman, “ Whether he had yet taken his chocolate ?” “ My chocolate,” answered the ecclesiastic, “I live upon alms; and I now wait, until the soup is distributed at the Franciscan convent.' "' You have not then been there yet ?” said the Castillian. “ No," replied the Frenchman ; “ but now the clock strikes, I'll go there directly.” “ Pray, conduct me thither,” said the rain-glorious Spaniard, “ you shall see Don Antonio Perez de Valcabia de Redia, de Mortalva de Bega, give there to posterity, an illustrious specimen of his humility.” “Who are those people ?” said the Frenchman. “ Tis 1,” replied the Castillian. “ If it be so," replied the Frenehman, “say rather, an ex. ample of a good stomach.”

BON MOT. The following Bon Mot is related of Doctor S. Johnson : When he had writ

ten four acts of his Trene, he read them to a gentleman, belonging to the ecclesiastical court of Litchfield, which is generally reckoned, as arbitrary a spiritual judicature, as any in the kingdom. The gentleman appeared greatly affected by the pathos of the piece; and was so particularly struck with the distress of the fourth act, that he asked the author, “ How he could possibly heighten the catastrophe !" " Oh, that's easily done,” replied the Doctor, “I shall put my hero into your ecclesiastical court, and then, I am sure, he must fill the utmost measure of human calamity."

ON DUELS.
The point of honour has been deem'd of use,
To teach good manners, and to curb abuse ; I
Admit it true, the consequence is clear,
Our polish'd manners, are a masque we wear,
And at the bottom barbarous and rude,
We are restrain’d, indeed, but not subdu'd :
The very remedy, however, sure,
Springs from the mischief it intends to cure,
And savage in its principle appears,
Tried, as it should be, by the fruit it bears.,

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