elapsed before the consternation had passed.

Nothing of any moment occurred after this affair, till the arrival of some visitors on the island, whom, being of a race and character perfectly distinct from the native Timorese, or other islanders in the neighbourhood, I beg leave to introduce to your notice. I had been informed by the governor, that between Timor and Sandalwood island lay the small island of Savu, the king of which came annually, with two or three large boats, to do homage to the Dutch power, and left a detachment of men for the year, who assisted in all the public works, and were particularly useful for the harbour seaduties, as they were bold and enterprising seamen, in contradistinction to the native Timorese, whom nothing could ever persuade to trust themselves to the treacherous element. The arrival of these islanders was daily expected, as the westerly monsoon now was at its height. In fact, we were surprised, early one morning, by the arrival on the beach of three or four large launches, full of men. One of my seamen had gone down early in the morning to bathe. The strangers were landing-who, of course, were ignorant of the change of affairs at Copang. He was pointed out by some evil-disposed person as an Englishman and an enemy. One of the chiefs immediately advanced to him with his creesse in his hand, and my fellow was glad to escape from the threatened danger, by taking to his heels. He ran to my apartment, and awakened me with his tale of invasion and attack. I repaired to the governmenthouse; and a few minutes afterwards the newly-arrived rajah entered, and a scene truly dramatic ensued.

I never shall forget the noble, manly, dignified appearance of this savage. He stood upwards of six feet high, well proportioned, and his loosely-flowing robes shewed him like a model from the antique. His countenance, and those of his countrymen, had none of the Malay features, which generally express the presence of the worst passions. His face was Roman, nose somewhat aquiline, eye full and open; and his hair, unlike that of the Malay, was short and thick-curled, but without the woolly texture of the African negro. We saluted, and the governor explained to him the new relationship which existed between the Dutch and

English, and which consequently affected him. We were no longer enemies. I then desired that they would make known to him my displeasure at the menace given by one of his subjects to a man of mine. His eye was lighted up with fury; he ordered the culprit into his presence; when arrived, in an instant he seized him with his left hand, dashed him to the ground, placed his foot on his body, and, raising his right arm with his naked creesse, exclaimed, turning to me, "Shall I strike ?" The action, the attitude, the gesture, was so fine, that, had not the life of the trembling victim been at stake, I should have remained gazing at him. I staid his arm, and interceded for the offender; he was allowed to rise, and then threw himself at my feet. The chief then turned to his followers, and, in a discourse accompanied with the most powerful and expressive action, declared his determination to punish with instant death the man who should henceforth disturb the harmony that existed between his new friends and him. This individual I found, during the rest of my stay on the island, of a character most superior. In him were united all the noble virtues of the savage, with few or none of the vices; and I parted from him with regret.

I am now drawing near my departure. The monsoon had begun to relax; and towards the month of March, light and variable airs announced the return of the fine season. I took my leave of my new friends, leaving them in a state of tranquillity and perfect submission to the British authority; as, in the interim, a Chinese junk had touched at the island, and confirmed the news of the downfall of their empire. I returned to Java without accident or difficulty, and was hailed with satisfaction by the rest of the squadron, who had long given us up for lost.*

PETRARCH'S LETTER TO POSTERITY.

MR EDITOR,

As I am not aware that the following autobiography, the work of a most illustrious man, has yet appeared in English, I venture to offer it to your acceptance, and remain yours, &c.

F. R. S.

FRANCIS PETRARCH to Posterity,

Greeting.

IT is barely possible that you may have heard me slightly mentioned, though it may reasonably be doubted whether a name, so lowly and obscure as mine, is likely to extend over any considerable interval, either of space or time. In that case you will probably wish to learn what kind of a man I was, and what success attended my literary labours; particularly those, of which the character (in terms more or less favourable,) has reached your ear. Upon the first head, representations will of course widely differ, as men generally speak under the impulse rather of passion than of truth, and are seldom moderate either in their commendations or their censures.

I was one of your own class, a petty human being, of a lineage neither splendid nor vulgar, but (to adopt an expression of Augustus Cæsar's,) of an ancient family! My disposition was not naturally, till tainted by the contagion of bad example, either vicious or immodest. Age, however, corrected the errors of my boyhood and youth, by impressing upon me, experimentally, the truth of my early lessons, that "youth and pleasure" are empty sounds; and that the great Creator of times and seasons occasionally permits his wretched creatures, buoyed up by bubbles, to float at random, in order to teach them, even by a late discovery of their transgressions, the knowledge of themselves!

Of a frame, when young, rather active than athletic, I may say without too much vanity, that in earlier life it was not ill formed to please. My complexion was blooming, and inclined to brown; my eyes full of fire, and my sight, for a long period, intensely keen, till by its unexpected failure after my sixtieth year, I have been reluctantly compelled to make use of spectacles. But age, though it found me sound VOL. III.

and strong, has not failed to introduce its usual train of disorders. My parents, inhabitants of Florence, of respectable extraction, but of moderate (or to speak more correctly, of decayed) fortunes, amidst the troubles of the times had been driven into exile. During this exile, I was born at Arezzo, early on Monday morning, August 1,* 1304. A determined despiser of wealth, not from indifference to its comforts, but from a hatred of the toils and anxieties which are its inseparable companions, and a disrelish of its pampered festivals. I have spent my days more happily at a frugal board, and with temperate fare, than the whole tribe of Apicii with all their luxuries. Banquettings indeed, and revelries, are equally unfriendly to modesty and to morality; and, as such, have always been my horror. Hence I have invariably shunned the giving and receiving of formal invitations; though the casual dropping in of a friend has always enhanced the enjoyment of my table, nor would I ever by choice sit down to a solitary meal. Of all things, parade displeases me the most; not only as criminal in itself, and adverse to true humility, but also as harassing and vexatious. Victim in my youth of a single and honourable, but most passionate attachment, I should longer have endured its violence, had not the flame, which age had already mitigated, been extinguished by the severe, but salutary, hand of death. Much as I could wish to represent myself unstained by sensual indulgences, I will not do so at the expense of truth; but I can truly affirm, that, even when hurried into them by the impulse of youth and constitution, I constantly reprobated them in my heart; and on the approach of my fortieth year, without having experienced any abatement of appetite or vigour, I as totally renounced the pleasures and memory of the sex, as if I had never looked upon a woman in my life. This, indeed, I class among my principal blessings; and most devoutly do I thank my Creator, that before the period of languor and decrepitude, he rescued me from

so degrading and hateful a thraldom. But to proceed.

Pride, the infirmity of other minds, was never mine. Little as I was in reality, my self-estimate always stood at a still lower point. This, though I frequently felt its ill consequences myself, never injured any body else. Of respectable friendships,-I speak it with honest exultation, because I know that I am speaking the truth,—I was always most covetous; vehement in my resentments, but ever ready to forget their cause; and religiously tenacious of the memory of kindnesses. Enviably fortunate, however, as I was in the condescensions of princes and sovereigns, and the intimacies of the great, I could not escape the penalty of age, the surviving of numbers most dear to me. Why my royal and noble contemporaries thus respected and loved me, it is for them, not me, to explain. I scarcely seemed, indeed, to be more with them, than they with me; and their station, of which I often felt the benefit, was in no instance irksome or oppressive. Yet numbers thus distinguished, much as I regarded them, from my innate love of liberty I studiously shunned, as implying by their very title something hostile to that blessing.

My talents are rather equable than acute; but though not disinclined to any respectable or useful study, they seem peculiarly adapted for the cultivation of moral philosophy and poetry. The latter, however, in process of time, I laid aside, or reserved for occasional embellishment, from my passion for sacred literature, in which I found a hidden and long neglected delight. Among my various pursuits, I engaged ardently in the investigation of the remains of antiquity, having ever entertained such a dislike for the present age, that, were it not for the bonds of love and friendship, I should have preferred being born in any other, as I was always, in idea, transferring myself to some of its nobler predecessors. This made me partial to the works of historians, though I could not but be revolted by their discrepancies. In such cases, however, I regulated my belief by the robability of the fact recorded, or the authority of the chronicler.

My ciocution, as many have asserted, was loud and clear: to myself it always appeared feeble and indistinct.

In the ordinary course of conversation with friends or acquaintance, I never studied eloquence; and I am surprised that an Augustus ever did. But under particular exigencies of circumstance, or place, or person, I failed not to exert myself in this respect,—with what success, others must decide. In my own judgment, the merit of the lips, compared with that of the life, is of very inferior account. The glory arising from mere splendour of diction, is nothing more than a breath.

My past life has been distributed by chance, or inclination, as follows: The greater part of my first year I spent at Arezzo, where I was born; and the six which ensued, in my father's house at Ancisa, (distant only fourteen miles from Florence,) with my mother, who had been recalled from banishment; the eighth at Pisa; the ninth, tenth, &c. in France, on the left bank of the Rhone, at Avignon, where the Roman pontiff holds (and has long held,) the church of Christ in disgraceful exile; although Urban V. appeared, not long before, to have re-established her in her ancient seat. But the attempt failed; the Pope himself, (for he was still alive,) I am sorry to observe, apparently repenting his honourable effort. Had he survived a little longer, he would undoubtedly have learned my opinion upon that subject. I had already taken up my pen for the purpose, when the unhappy old man quitted his glorious project and his existence nearly together. I say " unhappy," because he might have died by Peter's altar, and in his own Vatican. For had his successors continued there, to him would have been referred the credit of their restoration; and if they had again seceded, their misconduct would have served as a foil to his magnanimity. But this is prolix and querulous digression.

At Avignon then, on the bank of a gusty river, I passed my boyhood under the sway of my parents, and subsequently (with many interruptions indeed,) under that of my follies, I wasted my youth. For at this period, Carpertras, a small town situated a little to the east of Avignon, possessed me full four years; during two of which, I gave as much attention to grammar, logic, and rhetoric, as my age admitted, or rather as schools usually exact. That this is to a very mo

derate extent, the reader is, I doubt not, perfectly aware. Thence I migrated for a second four years to Montpelier, to study the law. Lastly, I spent three years at Bologna, in the same pursuit; during which I attended lectures on the whole body of civil law, and in the opinion of many, held out the promise of great proficiency, in the event of my persevering. But upon the death of my parents, I abandoned the pursuit, not as disliking legal investigations, which are of high authority, and abound with allusions to Roman antiquity, one of my favour ite studies, but because their application is vitiated by the chicanery of man. This made me reluctant to learn what I scarcely could practise without dishonesty, though dishonestly I certainly would never have practised it at all,-notwithstanding the imputation of ignorance which I must, in that case, have incurred.

I was two-and-twenty when I returned home,-for by that name I call my Avignon exile, where I had so long been an occasional resident. For custom has a power second only to that of nature. There I began to be noticed, and my friendship to be cultivated by the great. At present this attention, of which I cannot discover the grounds, excites my surprise; but it appeared quite reasonable at the time, as with the ordinary vanity of youth I deemed no honour too great for my deserts. Above all others I was courted by the ancient and illustrious family of Colonna, which at that time attended-I ought rather to say, dignified the Roman court. By them I was sought out, and by the incomparable James de C. bishop of Lombes, with a degree of honour then certainly (and, perhaps, even still) undeserved, carried into Gascony, at the foot of the Pyrenees, where I spent an all-but-heavenly summer in delightful intercourse with my noble host and his friends; an intercourse which I never refer to without a sigh. Upon my return, I passed many years with his brother, the cardinal John de Colonna, in whom I found not a master but a father, or rather a most affectionate brother; living, indeed, as if at my own disposal, and under my

own roof.

Youthful curiosity now impelled me to make the tour of both France and Germany; and though other mo

tives were alleged for my journey, in order to obtain the sanction of my superiors, the true one was, an earnest wish to see the world. During this excursion I first visited Paris, happy in the opportunity thus afforded me, of ascertaining what was correct, and what exaggerated, in the accounts of that celebrated city. I then proceeded to Rome, which I had longed to see almost from my cradle; and, while there, attached myself so closely to Stephen de Colonna, the noble father of the family above mentioned, a man of primitive integrity, and was so cordially beloved by him in return, that in no respect could I be said to differ from a son. This excellent man's affection for me never varied throughout his life; and mine for him still glows with unabated ardour, and can only end with my existence. After my return, nauseating and hating, from my very heart, all city-residence, and anxiously exploring some port or place of refuge, I found a very small but delightful solitary valley, called Vaucluse, about fifteen miles distant from Avignon, which gives birth to the Sorga, the king of streams. To this enchanting spot I conveyed myself and my books. It would be a tedious story, were I to detail what I did there during the lapse of many and many a year. Suffice it to state, that there nearly every one of my compositions had either its completion or its commencement; and these are so numerous, that even to this day they occupy and exhaust my attention. For my intellect, like my body, was distinguished rather by its alertness than its vigour.

Hence many projects of easy conception, but difficult execution, I have at various times thrown aside. Among other subjects, the character of the surrounding scenery suggested a Bucolic song, the work of a woodland muse, and two books upon a solitary life addressed to Philip -, always a distinguished personage, though at that time holding only the small bishopric of Cavaillon. He is now the great cardinal bishop of Sabino, and of all my ancient friends the single survivor.* This illustrious man loved, and still loves me, not (as Ambrose did Augustine) after the formal fashion of a bishop, but with the

He died two years before Petrarch, in 1372.

fondness of a brother.

While I was rambling on one of our church-holidays about the mountains, I conceived a strong resolution to write an epic poem on the first Scipio Africanus, whose name I had ever singularly cherished from my early life. But, though I set about it with great enthusiasm, the distraction of various worldly cares intercepted its progress. It was denominated, after its hero, "Africa;" and by its own happy fortune, or mine, excited an interest in its favour before it was known.

As I lingered in this beloved abode, by a surprising concurrence, letters reached me, on the same day, from the Roman Senate and from Paris (through the friendly intervention of the Chancellor), emulously inviting me to these two cities, to receive the laurel-crown. My youthful vanity was inflamed; and weighing, not so much my own deserts, as the opinions of others, I could not help regarding myself as worthy of what such men were solicitous to confer. Yet was I undecided whether of the two to obey. Upon this subject I consulted, by letter, my friend above mentioned, Cardinal John de Colonna, as he was within so short a distance, that, having written to him late in the evening, I received his reply the next day but one, at three in the morning. His advice determined me in favour of Rome; and two letters of mine to him are extant, signifying my acceptance of his counsel. To Rome, in consequence, I proceeded; but, however, like other young men, disposed to estimate myself in the most flattering manner, I blushed at the very idea of appearing to adopt the judgment of those by whom I had been summoned, though they undoubtedly thought me entitled to the compliment. I therefore resolved previously to visit Naples, and pay my respects to its illustrious philosopher, King Robert,-a prince not more distinguished by his station than his learning the only one indeed, in my time, who patronized science and virtue,-in order that he might form his judgment of my pretensions. How I was received by him, and how approved, excites my frequent astonishment, and, on a detail of the particulars, would equally astonish the reader. The news of my errand gave him extraordinary pleasure, both in respect to my juvenile confidence, and the ad

ditional reflection, perhaps, that the solicited scrutiny was not without its glory, since he had been selected from his whole species as the only competent judge. In short, after numerous conversations upon various subjects, and a perusal of my "Africa," (which delighted him so much, that he begged it might be dedicated to him as a great favour-a favour I was neither inclined nor able to refuse) he appointed a day for the object of my journey, and detained me, by his examination, from noon until the evening. This, as subjects grew upon us, was repeated on the two following days; and on the third, after a thorough sifting of my ignorance, he pronounced me worthy of the laurel. He even offered to crown me at Naples, and earnestly pressed my acceptance of the compliment ; but my love of Rome overcame the importunity of this great sovereign. Perceiving, therefore, that I was not to be dissuaded, he gave me letters, and despatched messengers to the Roman Senate, in which he emphatically stated his opinion of me; and that opinion was sanctioned by many others, as well as that time by my own. At present, I rate myself very differently. But affection, and a tender feeling for my youth, had more weight with him than a regard for truth. I returned to Rome; and notwithstanding my unworthiness, on the strength of so lofty a testimonal, with the loudest approbation of all those who could attend the ceremony, though but a very unfinished scholar, received the poetic laurel; upon which subject some letters of mine still exist, both in verse and prose. Alas! this laurel, without adding to my literature, swelled the tide of envy against me;-but the narrative of what I endured in consequence, would be too prolix for this place.

From Rome I proceeded to Parma, and spent some time with the Corregii, who, agreeing only in their kindness and liberality toward me, notwithstanding their domestic feuds, ruled that city with unprecedented rigour. Not insensible to this honour, and anxious to appear not wholly unworthy of it, one day as I was clambering along the mountains, and had entered the wood called Piana, beyond the Enza, on the border of Rezzio, I was all at once reminded by the association of the scenery of my forgotten" Africa," and, under the