LEISURE AMUSEMENTS. NUMBER IX. Tempus mea poffeffio; tempus meus ager.-MOTTO OF JEROME CARDAN. PHYSICIANS agree, that many diforders of the body arife from inactivity; and moralifts have applied the fame remark, with equal truth, to the mind. Indeed, our mental faculties receive more injury from this fource than our corporeal; and the caute is evident. The body may rett, and the only injury it receives is from the too long duration of its inactivity; but mental inactivity is only a figura tive expreffion; the mind never ceafes its operations, and when not employed on fubjects of utility, will be on fubjes either directly or indirectly injurious. iop's fimile of the bow was juit, as far as he carried the comparifon; but extend its limits, and it ceales to be applicable. The bow by too much tendon lofes its elasticity, and fo will the mind; but the bow by being long relaxed is improved, while the mind is confiderably impaired. How wifely, then, has Nature implante ed in us a certain principle, which renders us unealy when either our mind or body is in a ftate of inactivity. Happiness, we find by experience, depends on employment; and how to employ every moment advantageoufly, is certainly a quetion deferving of ferious confideration. This querion I shall endeavour, in the prelent Elay, to answer. The greatest part of mankind are compelled by fortune to perform fome certain duty, by which they are to fubfift, or obtain independence; confequently a great portion of their time is not at their own difpofal. It is, however, abfolutely necellary for our health that fome time thould be allotted for recreation. A temporary relaxation gives both mind and body freth vigour. Unhappy is that flave to bufnets who has no fuch leifure time; but doubly unhappy is he who poffetles it, and is at a lofs in what manner it fhould be employed: yet, if we look around us, we fhall fee many fuch deplorable instances of folly. Let us endeavour to correct their mistakes. Various are the methods of employing vacant tine, almoft as various as the tempers or difpofitions of man kind. This variety may, however, be divided into two claffes, viz. amufements which are beneficial, and amusements which are injurious. Under one of these heads, I think, all recreations may be placed. At first thoughts, I know we are apt to contider fome amufements perfectly innocent, as it is termed, neither injurious nor beneficial; but when we recollect that they caute us to wate our invaluable time, we cannot be longer in doubt under which head to clafs them. In making choice of an amusement, we mutt, in a great meafure, be determined by the nature of our chief employment. If our aim is to relax the mind, it can only be done by vary ing the object of its attention : From grave to gay, from lively to fevere.” "happily to fleer He who leads a fedentary, ftudious life, mult, of course, chufe fuch recreations as give exercile to the body and light employment to the mind. The flow of his ideas must be accelerated; while, by mingling in fociety, he receives that improvement which he is most liable to want. He must learn, by practice, to difplay with advantage in converfation thofe intellectual itores which he has been depouting. From studying mankind through "the fpec tacles of books," he must now endeavour to ftudy it without their aid, or he will find his knowledge very inperfect. He, on the contrary, who is ufed to the butle and exertion of an active life, will find his amu enent and improvement, which he mould always rive to unite, in study. In books will be obtained that fpecies of knowledge which cannot be obtained in converfation, and which forms fuch a valuable addition to the enjoyments of life. When we reflect on the thortness of life, it furely requires no other arguments to perfuade us how necellary it is to employ every moment benefcially. Recreations which do not tend to the improvement of ourfelves, or good of our fellow-creatures, are certainly far below the dignity of human nature. 334 nature. Heaven has endowed us with faculties fuperior to the rest of the creation; why fhould we not employ them in a fuitable and fuperior manner? Why thould we wafte a moment in tedious vacuity, which can be employed with both pleature and profit ? The acquirement of knowledge is certainly the mot dignified employment, and the one from which we receise the moft fubftantial pleaiu.e. When I tay this, I fhould except the pleafare arifing from doing good to others. If our fituation in life allows us but a few moments at our own difpofal, let us employ thofe few moments prontably. If our eftate is finall, let us be more diligent in its cultivation. Although thefe remarks are, one would fuppofe, felf-evident, yet how iel dom do we fee people actuated by them? If we examine the most prevalent amufements we fhall find, on the contrary, many of them are mere inventions to kill time, without producing pleasure or profit, and fometimes encouraging cruelty and deceit. It would be both needlefs and impracticable, to fcrutinize the merits of every particular recreation, but I hall juft curforily or three mention objections to two which I confider peculiarly unworthy of a rational being. Hunting, and what are barbaroufly denominated the "Sports of the field," I cannot but confider as injurious and degrading in the highest degree. Such employments muit harden the heart, and diminish what finali thare of benevolence Nature has implanted in our breafts. Our laws have wifely ordain. ed, that no butcher fhall be allowed to fit as juror upon his fellow-countrymin; and, I know not any good caufe, why a fimilar law fhould not exclude from fuch privileges, thofe who more culpably, because more wantonly, commit eruelties equal, if not fuperior, ia barbarity. Some have called it a veltige of the favage ftate, but it does not Man then purfued deferve that name. fuch employments for fubfittence, which formed foine apology, but now through mere fport: I blush for the prefent civilized age, when I lay the word. Bear and buil-baiting doud never be condemned, without the fimilar amufements of hunting and shooting. Angling is a kindred employment, and if in any thing, exceeds in its evil teadency, as it produces a degree of craft as well as cruelty, and has not the 3 health-invigorating qualities of the For hunger kindles you, and lawless want; The evil effects of gaming are almoft innocent game at cards" are very feldom mentioned. They are not, to be fure, when compared to what I have been jutt alluding to, of great importance; but I do not think them entirely If a a game at unworthy of notice. cards tended to exhilarate the mind, like mutic or dancing, I thould not hesitate to give it my approbation. But as it only ferves to deliroy time, which might be much better and more pleasantly occupied, I must condemn it as injurious. Of all methods of detroying time, it appears to me the moit infipid. If we play for ever lo fmall a fum, we, in fome degree, produce covetousness; and if we play for nothing, we deftroy the amulement. I might urge againt it, that it interrupts converfation, did I not know, the amateurs of card-playing consider, as its chief recommendation, that it interrupts what they are incapable of enjoying. In cards, the dull and the witty, the ignorant and the learned, are equals. To render thefe amufements unneceflary, I would advite every one to employ at least fome of his leiture time in the cultivation of his mind, that he may not be incapable of converfation. There is another, and more powerful reaton, to fupport this advice. The man who is incapable of drawing amulement from his own mind is really an object of pity. His happinefs depends upon the whim and caprice of others. He cannot always command the company of his equals in intela&tual endowments, and he is not capable of enjoying that of his fupe riors. riors. Befides, there are moments in the life of the most active in which all recreations, depending on external circumstances, are denied. The ama teur of cards cannot always meet with his companions; and the fportfinan must wait the feafons. How miferable is the state of a perfon thus fituated! His mind, inftead of affording him comfort and amufement, is only a fource of uneafinefs; and the leifure hours, which would make others happy, are thus to him hours of penance. As a contrait to this, let us review the fituation of him who has wifely acquired a tale for learning. In company, he is happy in the convertation even of his inferiors in knowledge, because even from them he has ac. quired the art of drawing inftruction. When alone, he is happy in the converfation of his books; and if they are denied him, he is still happy, because poffeffed of refources which no humin power can diminish. Those who have confined their refearches even to one branch of science, will find the pleature arifing from it more than commenfurate to the trouble it has cot them. How bleft is the Botanift or Chemist, compared to the Sportfman or Game fter! I know it is a very current opinion, that literary purfuits are incompatible with bufinefs; but I think the arguments on which it is founded are feeble in the extreme. Every fubje&t that engages the mind in the hours which fhould be devoted to bufinefs, is undoubtedly injurious. "Je ne fais pas qu'une chofe à la fois," faid the celebrated SIR, ftatesman De Witt, when asked how he was able to difpatch fo much business; and the force of the reply must be generally acknowledged. Upon whatever we are employed, let us bestow our whole attention, or we can never hope to fucceed. When the fun's rays are concentrated, we find their power much increased; fo it is with the powers of the human mind. Let me not then be mifunderstood.. I recommend literature and fcience as profitable lifure amufements for an active life, but by no means would have them impede the difcharge of néceffary du ties. This must be avoided, whatever be the fpecics of recreation, and not particularly with refpect to literature. Before I conclude, let me obviate another mifconception of my meaning which may probably arife. Perhaps fome fuperficial reader may imagine my advice tends to dimini'h the enjoyments of life. Such a plan, I affure them, is the very reverfe of my intentions. I wish to increate them. The fum of my arguments is,--let no time be walted--let every moment be enjoyed. I confider that time wafted which produces neither pleasure nor improvement. One of thefe rewards we should never be content until we have obtained, but we fhould always endeavour to obtain both. The above remarks occurred to me on the perulal of the letter in my fifth Number; and in offering them to the public, I have difcharged my promife. Νου. 14, 1803. HERANIO. TO THE EDITOR OF THE EUROPEAN MAGAZINE. The enclosed Letter from Doctor Smollett's Widow falling accidentally into my hands, and being always an admirer of the Doctor's writings; and many matters relating to the Doctor having appeared at various times in the European. Magazine, I think you will have no hesitation in giving admittance to the Widow's affe&ing letter, and in obliging a Subcriber from its first publication. Yours, M. M. If you were to throw out the Letter from Rome, page 5. July 1798, Vol. XXXIV., in a feparate sheet of paper, to meet the public eye, it mult at this time have good eff Ets in railing the refentments of every reader. The Traitor Berthier, therein mentioned, has to command in the army destined for the invasion of England. Allo, Queen Elizabeth's Speech to her Army at Tilbury, and to her Parliament, as introduced in the XXVth Volume of the European Magazine. M. M. SIR, THE proofs you have given me of your defire to ferve me, lays me under infinite obligations; and in courfe, after the trouble you have taken for the benefit of one of the most unfortunate of women, you furely had reafon to expect a letter of acknow ledgment ledgment and return of thanks to the benevolent perfons who generoudy aided to my relief. Although I have not the honour to be perfonally known to you, the tender concern you exprefs of my diftrefles, convinces me of the goodness of your heart for the miffortunes of a fellow-creature. To excufe my not answering your's fooner, I can only fay, that when I received your kind favour, I was fo totally abforbed in grief, from the difmal profpect of neceflities in old age, as left me abfolutely incapable of the leaft application. Happily, fortune placed me under the roof of very dear iends, who exerted their power to comfort me, and through their affection I owe my life and prefent fupport; otherwile I must have been abandoned in a foreign country, devoid of all refource. In my defpair, I was advised to apply to the public. Flattered by the general character of our nation for deeds of charity, I acquiefced, hoping my fex and age would plead in my behalf, being reduced by an unavoidable calamity, which has entirely ruined me. Alas! I have been baffled in my expectations; disappointment feems to attend my fteps. This has truly humbled me, because I have seen many people affiited in le's deplorable circumftances, when they had youth and strength to get a livelihood. Being ablent from England, I could not make application to tome powerful friends to maport my caufe. When this is wanting, which is the great wheel of fortune, the unitappy must fink down in obvion. In fhort, my obligations are chiefly owing to the merchants of Leghorn, excepting my good friends of Bath, with a few particulars, Be it as it will, I muft fubmit to my fate, hoping God will give me patience to bear his will. I thall take it as a particular favour you would offer my best refpects to thofe good Ladies, my bene. factors, and affure them of my eternl remembrance of their compaffion. Moreover, I return you fincere thanks for your kind attention. Wishing you health and profperity, I beg leave to subscribe myself, Your moit truly obliged and very humble servant, ANN SMOLLETT. Leghorn, Sept. 23, 1783. To Mr. Lewis Bull, at Bath. CASTLE HOWARD. [WITH A VIEW.] ΤΗ "His magnificent #ructure, the property of the Earl of Carlile, is fituated fix mies from New Melton, in the county of York. It was built by Sir John Vanbrugh, in the Hyle of Blenheim, and is liable to the fine objections as attach to that celebrated edince. The ball is 33 feet fquare by Go high, terminating in a donie at the top. It is ornamented with one pillars, thought to be too large; the walls are painted by Pellegrino, with the hif tory of Phaeton, and adorned with feveral antique ftatues and bults. The falcon is 34 feet by 24 and on the lett of it is the dining-room, 28 feet by 21, elegantly furnished with pictures, bulls, and flabs. The drawing-room is 21 feer iquare. The antique gallery is richly ornamented with pictures by Raffaelle, Rubens, Balan, &c. The flate bed-chamber is 28 feet long by 24 broad, and the dreffing-room is 30 feet by 74. In the park is an Ionic Temple, which has four porticoes, and forms a handfome room, fitted up chiefly with marble; and in another part of the park is a mausoleum, a circular building, furrounded by a colonade of Tufcan columns, and crowned with a doue. Over the vault is a circular room, called a chapel, 30 feet in diameter by 69 high. Eight Corinthian pillars fupport the cornice over which the dome rifes: the floor is in different compartments inlaid with marble; and there is here a very fine table of antique Mofsic. Several other ornamental buildings are in different parts of the park, but chiefly in the Vanbrugh Ryle. VESTIGES |