ican, and the metropolitan church of St Peter's. These edifices, so beautiful, so magnificent, so princely, so filled with relicks of ancient art, and with the incomparable productions of modern genius, would alone be sufficient to bestow distinc tion and consequence upon any hill or any city, in which they should be placed.

The Tiber, so celebrated by ancient poets, so deserving of interest for having watered the first city in the world, is often spoken of contemptuously by modern travellers. It has been called a little, contempt. ible, muddy rivulet. What pleasure these gentlemen literati can take in thus calumniating this noble stream, I cannot, conceive; for my own part, I have a different feeling on the subject, and as the Tiber fully answered my expectations, and responded to the descriptions of it in classick writers, I think it worthy of a few lines of description, from which you will be able to form an opinion for yourself.

The Tiber takes its rise about one hundred and fifty miles from the Mediterranean, though it is nav igable for boats, only to the distance of one hundred miles from that sea. At Rome, it is about three hundred feet wide at the narrowest point, and from Rome to the ocean is navigable for large ships. It is a fact, that a British frigate some years since ascended to the city, and landed there the dutchess of Cumberland, the widow of the late duke of Cumberland, brother to the present king of Great Britain. At Rome, the river is exceedingly rapid, but from thence to the ocean its course is very lazy, and considerably impeded by quicksands and mud, which are deposited by the stream, and are frequently shifting their po sition and quantity. Its navigation

or shipping is not extensive, considering the immense population of this city; it is principally carried on in feluccas of from thirty to sixty tons burthen. This torpid state of its commerce is rather to be attributed to the character of the inhab itants, and the wretched nature of the government, than to any natural defects in the river. When Rome contained, as it formerly did, more than a million of inhabitants, the most luxurious and extravagant that ever inhabited any city; when the productions of every climate and the delicacies of every soil enriched their barquets, it is not possible,.. that such demands could have been supplied without a crowded naviga. tion in the Tiber. I venture to say, that if Rome was at this moment in the possession of the people of our country, the Tiber would be whitened by a thousand ships.

The waters of the Tiber are usually turbid, but this is not peculiar to this river; with very few exceptions all the great and small rivers of Europe are so. This is very disgusting to an American, at first. Accustomed as he has beca to the clear and transparent streams of our continent, and forming his ideas of the Wye, the Cam, the Dee, and the Thames, from the pencil of the painter, or the numbers of the poet, he is vexed and irritated at the yellow, dirty colour of their waters.

From these remarks you shall judge, whether the Tiber is to be treated with contempt, or whether the ancient Romans were mistaken in speaking of it with respect.

you

On the whole then, I may say of Rome generally, in answer to the questions which I have supposed you to propose to me, that in its appearance it fully answers the expec. tations which you would form of a city, which had once been the mistress of the world by its arms, and had afterwards for ages governed it by its acts. In every quarter it bears the marks of that bold inventive genius and taste, for which the Italians have for so many ages been distinguished. Its situation is beautiful, and extremely favourable to the cultivation of architectural taste. Its hills form a variety of surface and exposure, which afford the most agreeable views, and are extremely convenient for its citizens, who, by ascending them, can enjoy all the benefits of air, exercise and prospect. Its streets are generally strait, and at the points of intersection, they form extensive and ornamental squares, which are universally decorated with fountains. There is not a single object in which architectural taste could be displayed, which has been neglected. Their churches, their palaces, their gates, their publick fountains, all of them display the efforts of a genius, which you discover no where in such perfection, as at Rome. If Paris can boast of its Louvre, its Pantheon, its Hotel des Invalides, its St. Sulpice, its Place Vendome, and Place Louis XV, it must also admit that its Reu St. Denis, Rue Quincam. pour, and its thousand other streets are narrow, dirty, and unworthy of a magnificent capital. So if London will set up her pretensions, and boast that though she has not the

distinguished beauties of Paris, yet she is free from the defects of that city, still she must admit, that she can no where display that magnificence, and that splendour, which meet you at every point of view in the city of Rome.

If, in short, a man of taste, of cultivated taste, could be supposed ignorant of the classicks, and totally unacquainted with the ancient his tory of Rome, and should be placed in this city, after having visited every other distinguished metropolis of the world, he would exclaim "this is indeed the residence of a wonderful people. I see around me the marks of a pure, chaste,and correct taste; of an inventive genius, and of a noble and magnificent disposition; their architecture is to be sure in some degree disfigured occa sionally by too great a profusion of statues, and their paintings are somewhat diminished in value by the su perstition exhibited in the choice of subjects,but on the whole,there must be something extraordinary in the air, the climate of this country, or the history of this people, which has given rise to such frequent exhibitions of genius in every art."

If such would be the impression of a man unacquainted with the Roman history, and I sincerely think it would be, what do you think must be the feelings of one, who has learned the wonderful history of that people; who knows their unexampled valour, perseverance, patriotism, and genius-the illustrious warriours, poets, painters, orators, philosophers, and statesmen they have produced, and the unparalelled course of their publick affairs, rising from the smallest origin to universal empire, and then successively the prey of every nation they had subdued?

But I think I have said enough of Rome; and I find myself rather

ABUSE OF WORDS.

THE following letter is calculated for the meridian of Castile, but will serve with proper alterations for the United States. It is extracted from the "Moorish Letters" of Don Joseph Cadalso.

Gazel, a traveller in Spain, to Ben Beley, his friend in Morocco.

The singularity of my friend Nunio's dedication to his waterman, Domingo, and the oddity of his own character, arising from a great variety of circumstances, through which he has passed, gave me a strong curiosity to see his book. I have often requested that favour of him, but in vain. Disappointed in this, I contented myself with desiring him to inform me of the subject, on which he treated; and even here he was unwilling to afford me satisfaction. I made many inquiries of him on this head. Will it be on Philosophy? said I.-By no means, he replied. By continual usage the force of that word is entirely lost; and so many different people assume the appellation of philosophers, that I know not in truth what philosophy is. There is no extravagance, however glaring, that is not clothed with this honourable character. Will it be on Mathe. maticks-No, sir, they demand a

continued perseverance in study, and I, alas! abandoned them in the out. set. Will it be on Jurisprudence? Never. In proportion as the authors on this subject have been multiplying, justice has been growing obscure; and, at this rate, every one that writes on laws seems to me most effectually to break them. It is as great a fault to explain them as to disobey. Commentaries, explanations, glosses, annotations are only so many stratagems in the legal war. For my part, I would prohibit if possible every new treatise on this subject. Will it be in Poetry?Still less. The flowers of Parnassus should be cultivated only by youthful hands. The Muses shrink affrighted not only from the hoary head, but from the furrowed face; and it is but an ill figure to see an aged gentleman, decked with the myrtle and the violet, imploring the birds, and the echoes to resound the favours of Amaryllis. Will it be on Politicks?-I pretend not to know them. Every country has its fundamental laws, its constitutions, its history, its judicature, and its peculiarities of character, of powers, of climate, of produce and of connexions. From an intimate knowledge of all these arises the science of Politicks. Let those study it, whose lot it is to command; I was born

to obey, and for this it is sufficient to love my king and my country; two qualities, in which I trust I have never been deficient. What then is your subject, said I, not without a little impatience; it must be one of these; for what other is there so worthy of application and study. Be not uneasy, said my friend, my work is neither more nor less, than a Castilian dictionary, in which is explained the primitive signification of every word, and the false one, it receives in conversation. It is not my expectation to introduce a new dialect, or entirely to restore the old: but I can recollect the preface, which will best explain the use of my dictionary. He then repeated to me the following observations on the use of the new Spanish Dictionary. I present to the reader a new dictionary, different from any hitherto known. I have not exerted myself to furnish it with a thousand words more or less, than, other works of the kind contain, nor to ascertain minutely, if such a word derives its authority from Solis, or Saavedra; from Cervantes, or Mariana; from Juan de Mena, or Alonzo de las Partidas; nor to discover, if its origin be Arabian, or Latin, or Phenician, or Carthaginian; nor to inform the publick, whether this term be antiquated, current, or foreign; whether that expression be vulgar, common, or sublime; whether it be poetical, or whether it be prosaick. My design is fully and fully and freely to make known the original, true and genuine, meaning of every word, and the abuse which is made of it in common conversation:-And why have you taken all this trouble? said a young lord to me, as he observed the enormous manuscript. I have taken it, said I looking him steadily in the face, that no one may be deceived, as I have been, in be

lieving, that the words love, serve, favour, esteem, and many others have but one meaning, when they have so many, that the power of num bers cannot measure them. What room is left for patience, when, fur example, a youth, like myself, bids adieu to his family, deserts his vil lage, repairs to Madrid, resides there many years, ruins his fortune, wearies himself with ascending and de scending a flight of stairs, perhaps disgraces himself by mean lames. tations, by currying favour with pages, and saluting porters, and at last sinks into sickness and returns, worse than he came and all for what? Why, forsooth, because he did not understand the true signifi cation of some little passages in a letter, received from court, although he found at theconclusion such a par. agraph, as this, "we shall be exceed ingly happy to see you soon at court; for the perfect knowledge, we have of your valuable qualities, and high deserts, the merit of your family, and your fitness for the discharge of some honourable office, will be strong motives in your favour respecting any pretensions, you may offer. Besides this, I have other and stronger obligations to serve you, from the particular favours, I have received from your honorable ancestors, of blessed memory, and the intimate connexion between my family, and that of my dearest friend, for whom, with his spouse, my honoured lady, I implore and beseech of God a long and prosperous life. Madrid,' &c. And a little lower : "My dearest friend, with the utmost respect I kiss your hands, and remain your devoted servant, and affectionate friend, ever anxious to see you." A-of B.

For the instruction, therefore, of the few fools, yet left in the world, who give credit to similar profes

sions, I have compiled this charitable dictionary; not only, that they may not be injured by a fulse understanding of language but that with this aid and a little practice, they may be able to converse with every one in his own dialect. Should the publick recognise the utility of the work, it would encourage me to compose a grammar, conformable to the dictionary, and possibly systems of rhetorick, logick, and metaphysicks, on the same foundation. This project, if fully effected, would introduce a new theory of publick education, and procure me more fame and veneration from my fellow citizens, than ever Confucius obtained for all his precepts of morality.

ORIGIN OF PARLIAMENTS.

REPRESENTATIVES were summoned in England by the. Barons, who took arms against Henry the Third. In France, they were first called in by Philip the Fair, to bal. ance the enormous power of the nobles, and facilitate the laying of new taxes. Thus they were introduced in England to limit the power of the crown, in France, to extend it.

VIRGIL HAPPILY CITED. WHEN Madame de Bouillon' at the head of the dutchesses of France came to compliment M. du Harlay, Archbishop of Paris, upon his Archbishoprick being erected into a ducal peerage, she said to him, "The flock are come to congratulate their pastor, that his crook has been crowned."

MORE OF GRAY.

WHEN a man resolves to believe, says Junius, the very absurdity of the creed confirms him in the faith. This appears to be the situation of those, who admire the lyrick poetry of Gray, Like new lights in religion, they are impenetrable equally to ridicule, and to reason.

The following ode is written in imitation of the Bard, but it is, in my opinion, a much better poem, as it contains more energy, more sense, and more simplicity. The worst parts of it are those, which resemble this Whitfield of poetry. As an imitation, it is not generally happy, since the only points of resemblance are the abruptness of the exordium, and the third stanza of the first division. The rest of the poem, with the exception of a few epithets, bears no likeness to the original.

ODE TO DEMOCRACY.

I. I.

HAG-SEED of hell, I hate thy sight!

Of social man the direst foe; Avaunt! nor sully heaven's pure light, But plunge insulphurous gulphs below. Fierce as thy gorgon eye-balis roll, The icy fangs of terror seize my soul, The ruby stream of palsied life congeal, And stiffen in every nerve to steel. When erst the arch fiend from blest obe dience fell,

And the whole rebel rout to ruin ran, Thee he engendered in the caves of hell, The inexorable foe of envied man. The Furies hymned thy birth with baleful breath,

Offspring of Stygian sin, and twinned with

ruthless death.

12.

When from murky depths to air Thy curst ambition winged the way, Thy presence scattered fell despair, and wild dismay. rage, Where thy sanguine footsteps turn, With fatal fury kindling nations burn, Of civil discord spread the dire-alarıng, And rush with maddening zeal to argus.