years ago it was an elegant promenade for the fashionables of Bristol, and an occasi. onal notice reminded you not to walk on the turf; but now not a blade of grass is to be seen, and the whole green is used merely as a rendezvous for soldiers, whom you see lounging here all the day through. How this can be denominated an improvement must be left to our war-merchants to determine: to me, who remember it in better and more peaceful days, it exhibits a change both disgusting and painful. My dear friend, I have walked, on a summer evening, around the College-green of Bristol, and inhaled the fragrance from the blossoms of the lime-trees, when not a soldier was to be seen-when scarcely any thing occurred to disturb the ardour of youth, but the flitting form of some fair belle, whose charms were displayed to no advantage for him but to agonise his imagination and wound his peace: such dreams are past, and the discordant drum loudly awakens me from the reverie! I have also seen Redcliff Church; and oh, what ideas rushed upon my mind at the remembrance of the unfortunate Chatterton!-There has been latterly, I understand, an attempt to raise a subscription for a monument to his memory, but I have not heard with what success. The attempt is at all events honourable to his native city, and I hope to find the next time I visit it that those efforts have not been unavailing. Now what kind of inscription or epitaph ought such a monu. ment to have?-Would it be prudent or just to omit the circumstance of the suicide altogether?-I think not; if when a person is dead nothing is to be said of him but the bona, I am very much afraid that the suppression of the cera tends to destroy character entirely, and to amalgamate the good and the bad into one mass, where distinctions cease to be apparent: and of course the possibility of profiting by the errors of others, how great or eminent soever they may be, is in a great measure precluded. I have sketched an inscription, according to my views, for such a monument, and send it you herewith. Oblige me in your next by giving me your opinion of it. If towering Genius-Eloquence be thine, Who seck'st to know for whom is rear'd the shrine; woe, When "oute" Sir Bawdin's "bloude beginnes to flowe ?" His harp all magic-music's self the strings, With living truths he swells, or wildly flings Some pleasant "roundelaie" to soothe the soul. Fame the sweet sounds re-echoes, and her scroll Waves, which as banners spreads the cireling sky; Where, crown'd with glory never more to die, Whilst Genius smiles to hear the trump of Fame, Glows of her CHATTERTON the emblazon'd name! Bristol, you know, has done her part towards filling the temple of Fame with British worthies. Thistlethwaite, a contemporary with Chatterton, distinguished himself as a political writer in the early. part of the American war. Edward Colston, the philanthropist, was also born here, and a charity-school, upon a large scale, is still supported by his bequeathed munificence. Robert Lovell, a poet, who dropt prematurely to the grave, has left sufficient indications of his ability behind him to make us regret his loss. You may remember his sonnet in the Anthology, written at Stone-Henge, beginning, "Was it a spirit on yon aged pile?" It is conceived in the true spirit of poeauthor of Alfred, is, I believe, a native of tic inspiration. Mr. Joseph Cottle, the Bristol, and now resides here; but Southey oversteps them all; he, in conjunction with Mr. Cottle, a few years ago edited the works of Chatterton, and from their sale procured some of that comfort for his sister which poor Chatterton unfor tunately sought in vain. R. W. 1814:] Mr. Dougal on the Bourbon Family. To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine. A SIR, Ta moment when the public attention is so much attracted to the royal house of France, the following brief and authentic account of that family may be not unwelcome to many readers. Lewis XVIII. so unexpectedly called to the regal throne of France, may be reckoned the 34th prince of his family, which is of great antiquity. Upon the death of Louis V. the last of the race of Charlemagne, in 987, the nobles of France chose Hugh Capet, Count of Paris, and a grandson of Robert king of France, who died in 923. The succession to the throne was continued, by regular descent, through thirteen sove. regns, and ended in Charles IV. surnamed the Fair, who died in 1328. Of these princes, Louis VII. or the Young, who passed over to England as heir to the crown, in consequence of the disor Hers in the time of King John, laid the foundation of the claim of the kings of France to the sovereignty of England. He died in 1180. Louis IX. commonly styled Saint Louis, who became king in 1226, is celebrated for his zeal and exertions in the crusades. Upon the decease of Charles IV. in 1328, without heirs male, (and females were incapable, by the Salic law, of succeeding to the crown,) the sovereignty was transferred, in right of blood, to Phi lip VI. the grandson of Philip III. by Charles, who was named Valois. Philip VI. was succeeded in 1350 by John, who was made a prisoner, in the renown. ed battle of Poitiers, by our Black Prince, and brought to London. The house of Valois terminated with Henry III. assassinated at St. Cloud by a fanatic monk in 1589; being the thirteenth prince of his family. Upon the death of Henry III. the crown of France was claimed by Henry IV. king of Navarre; and the first sovereign of the branch of Burbon. This branch proceeded from the house of Vaois, by Robert, a son of St. Louis, who married Beatrix, the daughter of John III. duke of Burgundy, and heiress of Agnes of Bourbon. Robert died in 1317, leaving a son, Louis I. duke of Bourbon, in whose favour, for signal services performed to the King Charles IV. that lordship was erected into a duchy in 18327. His son James of Bourbon, Count of La Marche, was wounded in the battle of Cressy, and fell into the hands of the English with John of France at Poitiers. Charles I. of Bourbon, was by Francis MONTHLY MAG, No. 256, 493 I. of France, created Duke of Vendome On the death of the too famous Constable of Bourbon, who had gone over to the party of the Emperor Charles V. the Duke of Vendome became chief of the branch of Bourbon, and first prince of the blood royal. By Jane of Albret, daughter of the King of Navarre and Prince of Béarn, he left a son Anton who succeeded to his mother's dominions. Being appointed lieutenant-general of the kingdom of France, on the death of Francis II. the husband of the murdered Mary Queen of Scotland, in 1560, Antony of Navarre commanded the royal ar my employed against the protestants, who had chosen for their chief his own brother the Prince of Condé. Dying in the siege of Rouen in 1562, Antony left a successor, Henry king of Navarre, afterwards the justly celebrated Henry IV. of France, who married first Margaret of Valois, daughter of Henry II, but this union being declared null and void, he next married Mary of Medicis, daughter of Francis, grand duke of Tuscany. Being educated by his mother in the protestant religion, Henry of Navarre was opposed in his succession to the throne by the Popish party in France, by far the most powerful. Finding it im possible to obtain his birth-right while he continued a calvinist, Henry, by the advice of his ablest counsellors, although themselves of the same religious opinions, conformed to the Roman profession; but by the celebrated edict published at Nantes, in Britanny, he secured to the protestants the full and free enjoyment and exercise, as citizens of France, of all their rights and privileges, religious and civil. Distinguished alike by gallantry and conduct in the field, and by benevolence in private, his project and endeavours to procure and establish a system of universal peace in the great christian commonwealth of Europe, deservedly entitled him to the endearing appellation by which he was known in France, le bon Henry Quatre. His success in arms however, the tranquillity he obtained and maintained at home, nor his many pri vate and useful virtues, could secure Henry from the dagger of the assassin, He fell in his carriage in the centre of Paris by the hand of Ravaillac, at the age of 57, in the year 1610, leaving his dominions to his. son Louis XIII. then only 9 years of age. This Prince, who, pious and equitable $$ on account of his. dispositions, was surnamed surnamed the just, married Anue of Austria, daughter of Philip III. of Spain. His reign was almost one continued course of warfare, at first within his kingdom, from the illegal and oppressive measures of his ministers, especially of the Cardinal de Richelieu, against the protestants; and afterwards abroad, with Spain and Savoy. Rochelle, the bulwark of the protestants, was compel. led in 1628 to surrender, after a very me morable siege and blockade, during which an ineffectual and inexplicable at tempt was made on the part of England to carry relief to the garrison. The w war with Spain lasted twenty-five years; and by the pacification, the provinces of Roussillon, in the south, and Artois, in the north, were added to the dominions of France. Dying in 1648, Louis was succeeded by his eldest son the celebrated Louis XIV. then only four years and a half old, the queen mother being appointed regent. He was crowned in 1654, and married Mary Theresa, eldest daughter of Philip IV. of Spain, agreeably to an article of the famous treaty of the Pyrennees. The long reign of this prince was distinguish ed by so many important and splendid establishments, for the encouragement of the arts, of literature, and of commerce, by successes so brilliant and reverses so humiliating, as in some measure to justify Voltaire in designating the age in which he flourished as the siècle de Louis Quatorze. Towards the close of his reign, when infirmities and failures inclined him to austerity and superstition, Louis was induced, by impolitic and illiberal courtiers, to annul all the wise and equitable stipulations of his grandfather in favour of his protestant subjects. To this measure, the revocation of the edict of Nantes already mentioned, most of the other states of Europe were indebted for colonies of industrious, ingenious, and worthy French protestants. A party, accustomed to the fine linen manufacture, transplanted themselves even as far as to Edinburgh, where they settled a suburb, to which they gave the name of their native province, Picardy, now absorbed and lost in the rapidly increasing augmentations of our northern capital. That the serious, and in some respects the irreparable injury sustained by the manufactures and commerce of France, from the expatriation of so many of the most useful and valuable citizens, excited any compunction in the breast of Louis, we are st told; he is, however, known to have, in his dying counsels to his family, con fessed qu'il avoit trop aimé la guerre -that he had been but too much addicted to war; a confession and a conviction equally unavailing with respect to him self, as disregarded by his successor in the throne. It is not a little remarkable, that Louis XIV. (than whom, from political situation and connections, as well as from personal dispositions and habits, no prince could possibly be a more determined supporter of the assumed, as well as the legal dignity of kings,) was among the first of the sovereigns of Europe to treat with Cromwell; and he even wore mourning at his death. Louis XIV. died on the 1st of September, 1715, after a reign of no less than seventy-two years, of which sixtyone had elapsed after he became his own master; and the crown descended to his great grandson, Louis XV. then a boy of five years and a half. The eldest son of Louis XIV. Louis the dauphin, died in 1711, leaving three sons. The eldest of these, Louis, Duke of Burgundy, died in 1712, and was succeeded in the title of Dauphin, belonging to the presumptive heir of the crown, by his youngest son the Duke of Anjou, then two years old, who afterwards became Louis XV. of France. The The second grandson of Louis XIV. Philip, also Duke of Anjou, claimed the crown of Spain in 1700, upon the death of Charles II. without heirs, in right of his grand-mother, a sister of Charles, who appointed him to succeed, in preference to his elder brother, heir apparent of the crown of France; in order that both kingdoms should never be under one and the same sovereign. claim of the French prince was vigo rously but unsuccessfully opposed by the Archduke Charles of Austria, as the nearest male heir of the deceased Charles of Spain, in whom expired the branch of the house of Austria, established in that country, from the time of the Emperor Charles V. The contest between these. claimants is commonly styled the war of the succession, in which our Queen Anne, as might be supposed, powerfully resisted the pretensions of the house of Bourbon. Philip of Anjou became the fifth king of Spain of that name, and was the father of Charles III. who, dying in the beginning of 1789, was succeeded by Charles IV. whose resignation in favour of his son Ferdinand VII. was the commencement of the troubles under which Spain has groaned for these several years past, and in fomenting which the con duct 1814.] Instance of discoloured Skin. SIR, 495 OBSERVED some months ago in duct of the late ruler of France was cha. To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine. racterized by perfidy the most unprincipled, and cruelty the most atrocious. Louis XV. succeeded to his great grandfather, on the first of September, 1715, aged only five years and a half, under the regency of Philip, Duke of Orleans, born in 1674, his near relation being the son of the brother of Louis XIV. Louis XV. after a long reign of fifty-nine years, died on the 10th of May, 1774; and his successor was his grandson, the late beneficent but unfortunate Louis XVI. This last monarch, born on the 23d of August, 1754, bore the title of Duke of Berry, until the death of his father, when he obtained that of Dauphin, belonging to the lineal heir from futher to son of 22 the crown of France. This happened on the 20th December, 1765: and on the 16th May, 1770, he married Mary Antonietta Josepha Jane, sister of the Em peror of Germany, born on the 2d November, 1755. Louis was consecrated and crowned on the 11th June, 1775, at Rheims, in Champagne, originally the capital of the dominions of the Franks, and where that ceremony had been usu ally performed, down from the coronation there of Hugh Capet, in the year 987. શ ! Louis XVI. had a son Louis, born on the 22d October, 1781, and declared Dauphin; but living only a few years, the tile passed to another son, Louis Charles, Duke of Normandy, born on the 27th March, 1785, the unhappy-infant now no more, but known by the name of Louis XVII. after the murder of his father. Upon his death, the present Louis Stanislaus Xavier, his eldest uncle, laying aside the titles of Count of Provence and Monsieur, assumed that of Louis XVIII. a title to which his claim has just been publicly and spontaneously recognised by the French nation. your Magazine an abstract of a paper read before the Royal Society by Dr. Willis, giving an account of a woman, the whole of whose skin was very white except the right shoulder, arm, and hand, which had the blackness of a negro; and which, says the doctor, was caused by the mother trampling upon a live lobster. This way of accounting for such singularities is a favourite speculation among women, but I never before knew of its being acquiesced in by a philosopher, by whom they are usually denominated lusi naturæ, which I think implies that they cannot be accounted for by any known operations of nature. That fancy could make any impression on the fetus when fully formed, is difficult to conceive; but that it could impart colour is beyond all belief, and ought not to be seriously repeated. There lives in the neighbourhood of Highgate a married woman, aged 35, the whole of whose body, except the face, is exactly divided by a straight line into white and black. The right side, arm, and leg is black, and subject to erup tions; and the left side, arm, and leg, altogether white; this distinction luckily terminates at the neck, which, with her face, is white. She has two children, who possess none of her peculiarities. It is truly surprising, and I may say al. most unprecedented, (in this country at least, how they order these matters on the Continent I know not,) that her mother, although a common ignorant wo man, makes no attempt to account for this singularity in the usual marvellous way. Yet nothing could be easier, as it is in the power of every pregnant woman to recollect black or terrific objects innu. merable. Her female neighbours were so provoked at her silence that they themselves set to work to account for it ; some by a black man begging, others by a black pig, for I have observed that pigs are very common agents in these latent operations. W. N. Louis XVI. had also a daughter, Mary Teresa Charlotte, called Madame, born on the 19th December, 1778: now married to her cousin-german, Louis Antony, Duke of Angouleme, eldest son of the Count of Artois, her father's youngest brother, who, when the Count of Provence claimed the regal title, assumed that of Monsieur, applied to the nearest collateral heir to the crown. The F you please to publish in your va Bedford Row, May 2, 1814. To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine. SIR, younger son of the Count of Artois, is Iluable miscellany the following recol Charles Ferdinand, Duke of Berry, born J. DOUGAL. lections concerning an early part of the life of Win. Browne, esq. the traveller, whose fate, I fear, is too truly ascertain ed, they may induce some gentleman of fuller and later information, to give a ဖို့ S 2 more more detailed account of that very worthy and ever-to-be-lamented man. I was well acquainted, and ever on the most friendly habits with him at Oriel College, Oxon, for three years, about 1790, when I believe a reciprocity of feelings induced the one to change and the other to leave his college. We had apartments from the same staircase; mine were the first story, his over me; hence his egress and regress and his hours of study were (often unwillingly) known to me. I say often unwillingly, as he was accustomed to sit up to his studies very late, and frequently to walk up and down the room for a long space of time. He was always of a philanthropi. cal and philosophical turn of mind I ne ver saw him in a passion--nor knew him quarrel. He was an allowed antient and imodern scholar, particularly in the languages; I do not think that he was deep ly skilled in the mathematics. With great good nature he had a resolved temper, but he was continually giving up his time and studies to oblige. The shameful habit of drinking was then a fashion, inclusive of all ranks. Browne disliked it, but civility induced him to go to, and to receive in turn, the wine-parties, and he sat and took his glass with a somewhat ludicrous formality. He was very much beloved and respected by all his fellow collegians; he was ever ready to hear all our adventures, troubles, and joys; and though his taciturnity was extraordinary, and he never attempted to say a good thing, we always made the most of that which he favoured us with. Though not of a strong constitution he rose early (seldom missing morning prayers) and went to bed late. He was regularly well-dressed, and the last year, when he kept a horse for his health, three times a day-bis academical dress for the chapel and his tutor-bis boots and leather-breeches-and silk stockings and shoes for the social party after dinner. Public prayers, breakfast, private study, his tutor, dressing, riding, dressing, dinner, company, public prayers, a walk, and then a long sitting at private study, steadily followed day after day. To travel was very early in life a favourite obJect with him. Browne is going to detect the errors of Mr. Bruce," I well remember being told me long before I left college. He saw reason to confirm the wonderful statements of that great man. But though in language, resolution, patience, generosity, and an hand. some fortune, Mr. Browne was well-quaLified for travel, he, in my opinion, was very deficient in one requisite a quick insight into character. I have often remarked this when I heard he was gone to Egypt, and I was not surprised at any of the difficulties he encountered. An anecdote or two may give an insight into the man. There was an acquaintance of ours famous for his long stories, which often tired his auditors. At one time Browne was left alone with him, and a friend said afterwards, "How could you possibly stay to hear that long story of 's" And "that was the fifth time that I have heard it," was the young philosopher's reply. Many young men had been summoned before the worthy head of the college for irregular conduct, among these was Browne. The Provost and the rest stood, Browne alone (through inattention) took a chair; soon the Provost observed it, and, breaking off his subject, exclaimed upon the want_of_respect to himself. Upon which Browne slowly rising with an unusual attitude, expressed himself, "Conscious of no of fence, Mr. Provost, I am not to be întis midated by your menaces." The laugh ter of the young company could not be repressed, and not only spoilt the ora tion, but the objurgating lecture too There was a kind of preparatory heroism (if I may so express myself,) in Mr. Browne for his future undertaking, not alone in his studies, but in his manners and habits, for he was very temperate and regular. He was frequently firing with a pistol; he slept with pistols under his pillow; and I recollect his telling us that once in the country he conceived that there was a man getting into his chamber at night; he fired, the man seemed to fall backward, and he went out in the morning expecting to find the robber extended on the grass-plat before the window; but, as no one was to be seen or traced, it is impossible to say whether it was imagination or reality. We had very favourable ideas of his abi lities in every respect; and, while I know he was not then a fencer, nor a superior horseman, nor ever played at any game of chance, or skill, or exercise, I think also he was not a good shot. I went up to his room one day when I heard him firing, but the specimen I saw of his talents in this respect was by no means favourable; he was very near-sighted, and applied to his glass to take aim, and af. ter the first discharge we could not find where the bullet had been. His opposite neighbour used to profess to be much alarmed; but he was of so kind and obliging a disposition that a word from any |