Since I had lived at Brixham, I had broken off all connexion with Ashburton. I had no relation there but my poor brother, who was yet too young for any kind of correfpondence; and the conduct of my godfather towards me, did not entitle him to any portion of my gratitude, or kind remembrance. I lived therefore in a fort of fullen independence on all I had for. merly known, and thought without regret of being abandoned by every one to my fate. But I had not been overlooked. The women of Brixham, who travelled to Ashburton twice a week with fish, and who had known my parents, did not fee me without kind concern, running about the beach in a ragged jacket and trowzers. They mentioned this to the people of Ashbur ton, and never without commiferating my change of condition. This tale often repeated, awakened at length the pity of their auditors, and as the next step, their refentment against the man, who had reduced me to fuch a state of wretchednefs. In a large town, this would have had little effect, but in a place like Afhburton, where every report speedily becomes the common property of all the inhabitants, it raised a murmur, which my godfather found himself either unable or unwilling to withstand: he therefore determined, as I have just observed, to recall me; which he could eafily do, as I wanted fome months of fourteen, and confequently was not yet bound.

All this, I learned on my arrival; and my heart, which had been cruelly fhut up, now opened to kinder fentiments, and fairer views.

• Of my brother, here introduced for the last time, I must yet lay a few words. He was literally

The child of mifery baptized in tears;

and the fhort paffage of his life did not belie the melancholy presage of his infancy. When he was feven years old, the parish bound him out to a husbandman of the name of Leman, with whom he endured incredible hardships, which I had it not in my power to alleviate. At nine years of age he broke his thigh, and I took that opportunity to teach him to read and write. When my own fituation was improved, I perfuaded him to try the fea; he did fo, and was taken on board the Egmont, on condition that his master should receive his wages. The time was now faft approaching when I could ferve him, but he was doomed to know no favourable change of for tune; he fell fick, and died at Cork.

After the holy days I returned to my darling purfuit, arithmetic my progress was now so rapid, that in a few months I was at the head of the school, and qualified to affist my master, (Mr. E. Furlong) on any extraordinary emergency. As he nfually gave me a trifle on thofe occafions, it raised a thought in me, that by engaging with him as a regular affistant, and undertaking the intruction of a few evening scholars, I might, with a little additional aid, be enabled to support myself. God knows my ideas of fupport at this time, were of no very extravagant nature. I had, befides, another object in view. Mr. Hugh Smerdon (my first master) was now grown old and infirm; it feemed unlikely that he fhould hold out above three or four years; and I fondly flattered myself that, notwithstanding my youth, I might poffibly be appointed to fucceed him. I was in my fifteenth year, when I built thefe caftles: a storm, however, was collecting, which unexpectedly burft upon me, and fwept them all away.

(To be continued.)

Influence of Imitative Tones and Reprefentations.

[From COGAN'S Philofophical Treatife on the Paffions.]

WE are fo conftituted as to be strongly affected by any reprefentation of particular states and fituations, notwithstanding we are convinced that they are imaginary or artificial. Mere tones, attitudes, gestures, imitating or resembling any of those produced by one or other of the paflions and affections, are calculated to excite emotions and correfpondent feelings in fufceptible minds. Like mufical inftruments attuned to the fame key, our feelings are made to vibrate with the vibrations of furrounding objects. Even the voice and accents of inferior animals, expreffive either of fear, or pain, or lamentation, or joy, or affection, have a tendency to render us apprehenfive, cheerful, melancholy, or fympathizing. Rude and harsh founds not only create unpleafant fenfations, but fuggeft unpleafant and foreboding ideas in all thofe who have not corrected their fenfations by their reafon." It is from this kind of affociation probably, that the croaking of the raven and the scream of the night-owl are fo univerfally deemed *minous of mischief by the ignorant. The sprightly music of the fea

thered fongsters infpires an exhilarating vivacity. The folitary and melodious notes of the nightingale, the cooing of the turtle-dove, &c. have always furnished imagery for Poets in their defcription of the tender paffion of love, of fympathetic forrow. The bleating of the sheep, and lowing of the kine, &c. although they poffefs no real melody in themselves, yet as they denote the affection of the dam for its offspring, they univerfally infpire a pleasing fympathetic tenderness.

The principal charms of the mufic, which aims at a higher. character, than that of difficult or rapid execution, confist in the imitation of thofe tones and movements which are most intimately connected with the paffions and affections of the foul; which exhilarate the fpirits, and excite to the fprightly or graceful dance, aroufe and animate, induce a bewitching melancholy, or diffufe a pleafing ferenity over the mind; which charm by displaying fomething like the power of perfuafive eloquence without words, holding a kind of converfation without ideas, and exciting whatever difpofition the artift pleafes, without fuggefting a motive.

It has been occafionally remarked in our analyfis, that the powerful influence of any exciting caufe manifefts itself by emotions correfpondent to the nature of the paffions; to feize these external appearances, or to imitate the expreffive looks, attitudes, and geftures peculiar to each, is the professed object of the statuary and historic painter: and to do juftice to the characteristic emotions, constitutes the difficulty and excellence of their art. It is the profeffed defign of thefe to excite fome emotion or call forth fome particular affection correfpondent to the nature of their object. Although the power of the fculptor is confined to forms and attitudes principally, yet how interesting may thefe be rendered to the fpectator! Who can contemplate the Apollo Belvedere, the Venus de Medicis, without admiring the human fhape in its characteristic beauties? or the dancing Farns, without partaking of their vivacity? Or the Farnefe Hercules, without a degree of awe? or the Laocoon and his fons, without a mixture of compaffion and horror? Or any of thefe, without being astonished at the fkill, ingenuity, or fublimity of the ar tift? The enthufiaftic encomiums beftowed upon the paintings. of celebrated masters: the eagerness with which their labours

are purchased; the wealth and renown, which the most diftinguished of them enjoy; and the respect paid to their memories, demonstrate the amazing effect of their performances upon the mind; the ftrength of our fympathy with every representation of paffion; and the furprise we experience that these powerful effects are produced by the mere distribution of colours, or of lights and fhades, upon board or canvass!

The fuccefsful dramatic writer catches the ideas and imitates the language of every paffion, emotion, and affection in their different ftages and degrees. His profeffed object is to suppose a diverfity of characters, and to fupport them with a correfpondent train of ideas; to infpire them with predilections and averfions, or call forth particular paffions and affections, according to the fituations in which he has placed them. His hopes of fuccefs depend upon the clofeness of the imitation; and fuccefs itfelf confifts in being able to intereft the heart, by exciting affections and emotions fimilar to those, which would be felt by the reader or spectator, were he an immediate witness to fimilat fcenes in real life.

The complete Ador poffeffes the happy talent of expreffing by manner the state of mind represented by his author. He adopts what modern orators reject; and attempts to give force to pertinent ideas and language by imitative tones, gestures, and countenance, which he varies according to the versatile ftate of those who are toffed upon the billows of paffion, or agitated by fome contending emotions, or under the more perma nent influence of particular affections.

In theatrical exhibitions there is a confpiracy to delude the imagination; and all the powers of fympathy are called forth to produce the effect. Correfpondent scenery points out to the fpectator the very spot of action, and characteristic dresses exert their influence to aid the deception. The fpectator leaves every idea of real life at the door of entrance, and voluntarily yields himself up to the pleasing delufion. He finds himself in a new world. He is transported in an instant into distant regions, and remote ages, and feels in fiction all the force of truth. He laughs at mimic folly, fincerely weeps at artificial mifery, is inspired with horror and indignation at imaginary baseness, and is in an ecstasy of joy at counterfeit happiness !

MEMOIRS

OF

WILLIAM COLLINS;

WITH OBSERVATIONS ON HIS GENIUS AND WRITINGS.

THE

[Continued from page 22.]

HE first, which is entitled SELIM, or the SHEPHERD'S MORAL, as there is nothing dramatic in the subject, may be thought the least entertaining of the four: but it is, by no means, the leaft valuable. The moral precepts which the intelligent fhepherd delivers to his fellow-fwains and the virgins, their companions, are fuch as would infallibly promote the happiness of the pastoral life.

In imperfonating the private virtues, the poet has obferved great propriety, and has formed the genealogy with the most perfect judgment, when he represents them as the daughters of truth and wisdom.

The characteristics of modefty and chaflity are extremely happy and picturesque :

"Come thou, whofe thoughts as limpid fprings are clear,
To lead the train, fweet modefly appear;

With thee be chastity, of all afraid,

Diftrufting all, a wife fufpicious maid;

Cold is her breaft, like flowers that drink the dew,

A filken veil conceals her from the view."

The two fimilies borrowed from rural objects are not only much in character, but perfectly natural and expreffive. There is, notwithstanding, this defect in the former, that it wants a peculiar propriety; for purity of thought may as well be applied to chaflity as to modefty; and from this inftance, as well as from a thousand more, we may fee the neceffity of diftinguishing, in characteristic poetry, every object by marks and attributes peculiarly its own.

It cannot be objected to this eclogue that it wants both thofe effential Criteria of the paftoral, love and the drama; for though it partakes not of the latter, the former ftill retains an Vol. I. No. 2.

K