This is the Farmer made the Gentleman. "The second species from the world is sent, [content; Tir'd with its strife, or with his wealth In books and men beyond the former read, To Farming solely by a passion led, Or by a fashion; curious in his land; Now planning much, now changing what he plann'd;

Pleas'd by each trial, not by failures vext, And ever certain to succeed the next;

Quick to resolve, and easy to persuade This is the Gentleman a Farmer made. "Gwyn was of these: he from the world withdrew

Early in life, his reasons known to few: Some disappointment said, some pure

The love of land, the press of indolence: His fortune known, and coming to retire, If not a Farmer, men had call'd him 'Squire.

"Forty and five his years, no child or wife

Cross'd the still tenour of his chosen life; Much land he purchas'd, planted far [ground And let some portions of superfluous To farmers near him, not displeas'd to say, My tenants,' nor our worthy landlord,' they.

"Fix'd in his farm, he soon display'd his skill [and the Drill; In small-bon'd Lambs, the Horse-hoe, From these he rose to themes of nobler kind,

And show'd the riches of a fertile mind:
To all around their visits he repaid,
And thus his mansion and himself dis-
play'd.

[neat, His rooms were stately, rather fine than And guests politely call'd his house a Seat: At much expence was each apartment grac'd, [taste: His taste was gorgeous, but it still was In full festoons the crimson curtains fell, The sofas rose in bold elastic swell;

Mirrors in gilded frames display'd the

Of glowing carpets and of colour'd prints: The weary eye saw every object shine, And all was costly, fanciful, and fine. "As with his friends he pass'd the social hours, [powers; His generous spirit scorn'd to hide its

Powers unexpected, for his eye and air Gave no sure signs that eloquence was there:

Oft he began with sudden fire and force, As loth to lose occasion for discourse : Some, 'tis observ'd, who feel a wish to speak,

Will a due place for introduction seek; : On to their purpose step by step they steal,

And all their way, by certain signals, feel; Others plunge in at once, and never heed Whose turn they take, whose purpose they impede;

Resoly'd to shine, they hasten to begin, Of ending thoughtless-and of these was Gwyn."

The Reader's time will not be misapplied, who peruses the sequel of this excellent Tale.

"Procrastination," the FourthTale, may supply many excellent reflections; and the Fifth, "The Patron," will be of service hereafter to many a young man who supposes he has by his talents secured the friendship, of the Great.-A young man of real worth and genius, the son of a dependant on a neighbouring Peer, had received, during the Family's retire, ment in the Country, such distinguished proofs of regard, that he even ventured to hope the daughter of his noble Friend did not disapprove the attentions which he paid her; concluding that his fortune was already made, and would be completed by a journey to the Metropolis. The season for departure, which was now arrived, is thus beautifully described:

"Cold grew the foggy morn, the day'

was brief, [leaf; Loose on the cherry hung the crimson The dew dwelt ever on the herb; the woods [showers the floods; Roar'd with strong blasts, with mighty All green was vanish'd, save of pine and

yew,

That still display'd their melancholy hue; Save the green holly with its berries red, And the green moss that o'er the gravel spread."

The departure of the Patron was not accompanied with quite so much attention as the Youth had fondly anticipated. The Noble Lord vouchsafed to say, when seated in the carriage, My good young friend, You know my views; upon my care depend; [pay, My hearty thanks to your good Father And be a student.'-'Harry,drive away"," Now

Hall.

"Arriv'd in town, he early sought to know [bestow; The fate such dubious friendship would At a tall building trembling he appear'd, And his low rap was indistinctly heard; A well-known servant came- A while,' said he, [pany.' Be pleas'd to wait; my Lord has com"Alone our Hero sate; the news in band, [derstand: Which, though he read, he could not unCold was the day; in days so cold as these There needs a fire, where minds and bo[grate, The vast and echoing room, the polish'd The crimson chairs, the sideboard with its plate; [for rest, The splendid sofa, which, though made He then had thought it freedom to have press'd;

dies freeze;

The shining tables, curiously inlaid, Were all in comfortless proud style display'd;

And to the troubled feelings terror gave, That made the once-dear friend, the sick'ning slave.

ear

"Was he forgotten?' Thrice upon his [near: Struck the loud clock, yet no relief was Each rattling carriage, and each thundering stroke [broke; On the loud door, the dream of Fancy Oft as a servant chanc'd the way to come, Brings he a message?' no! he pass'd the room: [tend

At length 'tis certain; 'Sir, you will atAt twelve on Thursday. Thus the day had end.

"Vex'd by these tedious hours of needless pain, John left the noble mansion with disdain; For there was something in that still, cold place, [grace. That seem'd to threaten and portend dis"Punctual again the modest rap declar'd [par'd; The Youth attended; then was all preFor the same servant, by his Lord's command,

A paper offer'd to his trembling hand: 'No more!' he cried, disdains he to afford

One kind expression, one consoling word?

With troubled spirit he began to read That In the Church my Lord could not succeed;'

Who had' to Peers of either kind applied, And was with dignity and grace denied; While his own livings were by men pos sess'd,

view

Not likely in their chancels yet to rest; And therefore, all things weigh'd, (as he, my Lord, [word, Had done maturely, and he pledg'd his Wisdom it seem'd for John to turn his [adieu! To busier scenes, and bid the Church "Here griev'd the Youth; he felt his father's pride [tified; Must with his own be shock'd and morBut, when he found his future comforts plac'd [grac'dWhere he, alas! conceiv'd himself dis In some appointment on the London Quays,

He bade farewell to honour and to ease; His spirit fell, and, from that hour assur'd How vain his dreams, he suffer'd, and was cur'd."

Awakened from his romantic dream, the Youth retired to the humble roof of his father; where, broken-hearted,

To all that Hope, to all that Fancy drew; His frame was languid, and the hectic heat [beat

Flush'd on his pallid face, and countless The quick'ning pulse, and faint the limbs that bore [no more,

The slender form that soon would breathe "Then hope of holy kind the soul sustain'd, [main'd; And not a lingering thought of earth reNow Heaven had all, and he could smile at Love,

And the wild sallies of his youth reprove; Then could he dwell upon the tempting days, [praise; The proud aspiring thought, the partial Victorious now, his worldly views were clos'd, [pos'd.

And on the bed of death the Youth re"The Father griev'd-but as the Poet's heart

Was all unfitted for his earthly part;
As, he conceiv'd, some other haughty Fair
Would, had he liv'd, have led him to
despair;

[out

As, with this fear, the silent grave shut All feverish hope, and all tormenting doubt: [possess'd, While the strong faith the pious Youth His hope enlivening, gave his sorrows rest; [mournful joy Sooth'd by these thoughts, he felt a For his aspiring and devoted boy.

"Meantime the news through various channels spread, [was dead; TheYouth, once favour'd with such praise, Emma,

tend,

Emma,' the Lady cried, my words at [ble friends Your syren-smiles have kill'd your humThe hope you rais'd can now delude no more, [restore.' Nor charms, that once inspir'd, can now "Faint was the flush of anger and of shame, [came; That o'er the cheek of conscious beauty 'You censure not,' said she, the Sun's bright rays, [ous gaze; When fools imprudent dare the dangerAnd should a stripling look till he were blind, [kind; You would not justly call the light unBut is be dead? and am I to suppose The power of poison in such looks as [cast She spoke, and, pointing to the mirror, A pleas'd gay glance, and curt'sy'd as she pass'da

those?'

66 My Lord, to whom the Poet's fate was told,

Was much affected, for a man so cold; 'Dead!' said his Lordship, 'run distracted, mad!

Upon my soul, I'm sorry for the lad; And now, no doubt, th' obliging world will say, [way; That my harsh usage help'd him on his What! I suppose, I should have nurs'd [his views;

his Muse,

And with champagne have brighten'd up Then had he made me fam'd my whole life long, [song.

And stunn'd my ears with gratitude and Still should the Father hear that I regret Our joint misfortune-Yes! I'll not forget.'"

(To be concluded in our next.)

26. Travels in Greece, Palestine, Egypt, and Barbary, during the Years 1806 and 1807. By F. A. De Chateaubriand. Translated from the French, by Frederic Shoberl. In Two Volumes. pp. 440 and 388. Colburn.

THIS ingenious and very entertaining Traveller requests the Reader "to consider this Work rather as Memoirs of a year of his life, than as a book of Travels." "I pretend not," he says, "to tread in the steps of a Chardin, a Tavernier, a Chandler, a Mungo Park, a Humboldt; or to be thoroughly acquainted with people, through whose country I have merely passed. A moment is sufficient for a Landscape-painter to sketch a tree, to take a view, to draw a ruin; but whole years are too short for the study of Men and Manners, and for the profound investigation of the Arts and Sciences. I am, nevertheless, fully aware of

the respect that is due to the publicks and it would be wrong to imagine that I am here ushering into the world a work that has cost me no pains, no researches, no labour: it will be seen, on the contrary, that I have scrupu lously fulfilled my duties as a writer. Had I done nothing but determine the site of Lacedæmon, discover a new tomb at Mycenæ, and ascertain the situation of the ports of Carthage, still I should deserve the gratitude of Travellers."

Our Author sets off from Paris the 13th July, 1806, and after passing through Italy, is prepared to enter Greece with sentiments of enthusiasm and veneration: te describes the first night enjoyed under a Grecian sky, and observes, that

"The climate operates more or less upon the taste of nations. In Greece, for instance, a suavity, a softness, a repose, pervade all nature, as well as the works of the antients. You may almost conceive, as it were by intuition, why the architecture of the Parthenon has such exquisite proportions; why antient sculpture is so unaffected, so tranquil, so simple, when you have beheld the pure sky, and the delicious scenery of Athens, of Corinth, and of Ionia."

We are next favoured with the following description of the mode of travelling through Greece:

"At three in the morning of the 11th, the Aga's janissary came to apprize me that it was time to set out for Coron. We immediately mounted our horses. I shall describe the order of the cavalcade, as it continued the same throughout the whole journey. At our head appeared the guide, or Greek postilion, on horseback, leading a spare horse previded for remounting any of the party in case an accident should happen to his steed. Next came the janissary, with his turban on his head, two pistols and a dagger at his girdle, a sabre by his side, and a whip to flog the horses of the guide. I followed, armed nearly in the same manner as the janissary, with the addition of a fowling-piece. Joseph brought up the rear. This Milanese was a short fair man, with a large belly, a florid complexion, and an affable look; he was dressed in a complete suit of blue velvet; two large horse-pistols, stuck under a tight belt, raised up his waistcoat in such a grotesque manner, that the janissary could never look at him without laughing. My baggage consisted of a carpet to sit down upon, a pipe, a

coffee

coffee-pot, and some shawls to wrap round my head at night. We started at the signal given by our guide, ascending the hills at full trot; and descending over precipices in a gallop. You must make up your mind to it: the military Turks know no other paces; and the least sign of timidity, or even of prudence, would expose you to their contempt. You are, moreover, seated on Mameluke saddles, with wide short stirrups, which keep your legs constantly bent, which break your toes, and lacerate the flanks of your horse. At the slightest trip, the elevated pommel comes in most painful contact with your belly; and if you are thrown the contrary way, the high ridge of the saddle breaks your back. In time, however, you find the utility of these saddles, in the sureness of foot which they give to the horse, especially in such hazardous excursions."

At Coron, M. Chateaubriand is hospitably entertained by the French consul, M. Vial; and it is determined that" be should proceed to Tripolizza, to obtain from the Pacha of the Morea, the firman necessary for passing the Isthmus; that he should return from Tripolizza to Sparta, and thence go by the mountain road to Argos, Mycenæ, and Corinth."

At Tripolizza, after some little altercation, he obtains an audience with the Pacha, and is graciously received.

"A Tartar brought me in the evening my travelling firman, and the order for passing the Isthmus. The Turks, in establishing themselves on the ruins of Constantinople, bave manifestly retained several of the customs of the conquered nation. The institution of posts in Turkey is nearly the same as that introduced by the Roman emperors: you pay for no horses; the weight of your baggage is fixed; and wherever you go, you may insist on being gratuitously supplied with provisions. I would not avail myself of these magnificent but odious privileges, which press heavily on a people unfortunate enough without them; but paid wherever I went for my horses and entertainment, like a traveller without protection and without firman."

"Those who have read the introduction to these Travels, will have seen that I spared no pains to obtain all the information possible relative to Sparta. I have traced the history of that city from the Romans till the present day; I have mentioned the travellers and the books that have treated of modern Lacedæmon, but, unfortunately, their accounts are so

vague,that they have given rise to two contradictory opinions. According to Father Pacifico,Coronelli,the romancing Guillet, and those who have followed them, Misitra is built on the ruins of Sparta; and according to Spon, Vernon, the Abbé Fourmont, Leroi, and D'Anville, the ruins of Sparta are at a considerable distance from Misitra."- "Persuaded by an error of my early studies that Misitra was Sparta, I began with the excursion to Amycle, with a view to finish, first, with all that was not Lacedæmon, so that I might afterwards bestow on the latter my undivided attention. Judge then of my embarrassment, when, from the top of the Castle of Misitra, I persisted in the attempt to discover the city of Lycurgus in a town absolutely modern, whose architecture exhibited nothing but a confused mixture of the Oriental manner, and of the Gothic, Greek, and Italian styles, without one

poor little antique ruin to make amends."

"But then, said I to myself, where can be the Eurotas? It is clear that it does not pass through Misitra. Misitra, therefore, is not Sparta, unless the river has changed its course, and removed to a distance from the town, which is by no means probable. Where then is Sparta? Have I come so far without being able

to discover it? Must I return without beholding its ruins? I was heartily vexed. As I was going down from the Castle the Greek exclaimed, Your Lordship perhaps means Palæochori?' At the mention of this name, I recollected the passage of D'Anville, and cried out in my turn, Yes, Palæochori! The old city!

Where is that? Where is Palæochori?' Yonder, at Magoula,' said the Cicerone, pointing to a white cottage with some trees about it, at a considerable distance in the valley. Tears came into my eyes when I fixed them on this miserable but, erected on the forsaken site of one of the most renowned cities of the universe, now the only object that marks the spot where Sparta flourished, the solitary habitation of a goat-herd, whose whole wealth consists in the grass that grows upon the graves of Agis and of Leonidas. Without waiting to see or to hear any thing more, I hastily descended from the Castle, in spite of the calls of my guides, who wanted to show me modern ruins, and tell me stories of agas and pachas, and cadis and waywodes. Sparta was then before me, and its theatre, to which my good fortune conducted me on my first arrival, gave me immediately the positions of all the quarters and edifices. 1 alighted, and ran all the way up the hill of the citadel. Just as I reached the top, the sun was rising behind the hills

af

of Menelaion. What a magnificent spectacle! but how melancholy. The solitary stream of the Eurotas running beneath the remains of the bridge Babyx, ruins on every side, and not a creature to be seen among them. I stood motionless, in a kind of stupor, át the contemplation of this scene. The whole site of Lacedæmon is uncultivated: the

expected that I should here give a com-. plete description of Athens: as to its history, from the Romans to the present time, that may be seen in the Introduction to this volume. In regard to the monuments of antient Athens, the translation of Pausanias, defective as it is, will completely satisfy the generality of readers;

santly consuming the marble of the tombs.-I descended from the citadel, and, after walking about a quarter of an hour, I reached the Eurotas. Its appearance was nearly the same as two leagues higher, where I had passed it without knowing what stream it was. Its breadth before Sparta is about the same as that of the Marne above Charenton."-" The Abbé Fourmont and Leroi

were the first that threw a steady light upon Laconia, though it is true that Vernon had visited Sparta before them : but nothing of his was published except a single letter, in which he merely mentions that he had seen Lacedæmon, without entering into any details. As for me, I know not whether my researches will be transmitted to posterity, but at least I have joined my name to that of Sparta, which can alone rescue it from oblivion. I have fixed the site of that celebrated city; Thaye, if I may so express myself, re-discovered all these immortal ruins." edit :badg

The following is truly descriptive of our travelling Countrymen:

"There are always some Englishmen to be met with on the roads of the Peloponnese; the papers informed me that they had lately seen some antiquaries and officers of that nation. At Misitra there is even a Greek house called the English Inn, where you may eat roast beef, and drink port wine. In this particular, the traveller is under great obligations to the English: it is they who have established good Inns all over Europe; in Italy, in Switzerland, in Germany, in Spain, at Constantinople, at Athens; nay, even at the very gates of Sparta, in despite of Lycurgus."

Having explored Corinth and Megara, our Trav continues:

"I proceeded towards Athens with a kind of pleasure which deprived Ime of the power of reflection; not that I experienced any thing like what I had felt at the sight of Lacedæmon. Sparta and Athens have, even in their ruins, retained their different characteristicks; those of the former, are gloomy, grave, and solitary; those of the latter, pleasing, light, and social - It will certainly not be

any thing more to wish for."

M. Chateaubriand, however, examines Athens with the zeal of an Antiquary; but our limits will not allow us to follow him. His next principal object being to visit Jerusalem, he proceeds by the island of Zea to Smyrna, from thence to Constantinople.

the Fathers of the Holy Land happened At this very time a deputation from to be at Constantinople. They had rethe Ambassador against the tyranny of paired thither to claim the protection of the Governor of Jerusalem. The Fathers furnished me with letters of recom→ mendation for Jaffa, By another piece of good fortune, the vessel carrying the Greek pilgrims to Syria was just ready to depart.......... The bargain was soon concluded with the Captain, and the Ambassador sent on board for me a supply of the most delicate provisions..b... Loaded with kindness and good wishes, I went on the 18th of September, at noon, on board of the ship of the Pilgrims."

do

The beginning of October, the vessel reaches Jaffa; and M. Chateaubriand meets with a friendly reception from the Fathers, who advise him to repair, to Rama in the disguise of a pilgrim, and to proceed from thence to Jerusalem under the escort of au Arab, chief, to avoid the inconveniences and the extortions which would have attended an introduction to the Aga. He thus expresses his enthusiasm on arriving at the City:

"I can now account for the surprize expressed by the crusaders and pilgrims at the first sight of Jerusalem, according to the reports of Historians and Travellers. I can affirm, that whoever has, like me, had the patience to read near two hundred modern accounts of the Holy Land, the Rabbinical compilations, and the passages in the antients relative to Judea, still knows nothing at all about it. I paused, with my eyes fixed on Jerusalen, measuring the height of its walls, reviewing at once all the recollections of History, from Abraham to Godfrey of Bouillon, reflecting on the total

change