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enemies of man, and the victims of their own folly.

T. Ungrateful scoundrels, that, if I had my will, should all be shipped off to-morrow to your respective countries, where your crimes have already merited the gallows. What are you but the refuse of Europe, fugitives from states where your restless malignity strove in vain against wholesome order, and vipers who sting to death that bosom which gave you an asylum?

H. Fit companions, once more say I, for those impious monopolists who deny us the rights of human nature; because, forsooth, we were not born among you. More savage, you, than those savage tribes with whom every stranger is an enemy; for, with you, it seems, every guest is a slave!

T. How dare you abuse the government that fosters and protects you; by whose indulgent influence you are what you are; and which, if your ingratitude, were treated as it merits, would reduce you in a moment to the beggary and dirt from whence you sprung!

H. I can't tell. I wonder at my own audacity as much as you. For a slave like me to pretend to question the will of one who has my life, liberty, and property in his own hand, and may kill or banish me just as caprice shall prompt him, is a rashness truly surprising. Το supplicate his mercy, to pamper his arrogance, to confess that his power over me is no more than simple equity, that I have no shadow of pretence to aspire to an equality with him, to take an equal share in the government of myself and my fellows, is by far the safest way.

T. I understand your irony. And so you would insinuate that you have a right to enter my house, to claim a seat at my table, and share the possession of my wife and children, would you? That is one of the rights of human nature, is it? All exclusive property, all household and conjugal privileges, are arrant tyranny and usurpation, I warrant you. Maxims worthy of

those who are at once rebels to their country and their God.

H. Rebels let us be as long as we are ruled by tyrants. 7. Atheists! H. Hypocrites! T. Liars!

H. Dissemblers!

T. Vile, bloody-minded jacobins ! H. Proud, detestable aristocrats! T. How dare you, rascal, use such terms?

H. Your humble imitator, sir, am I; I dare do all, as the poet might have said, that other rascals dare.

7. Do you call me rascal, sir? H. No, sir; I miscal you gentleman, that's all.

7. Take that, sir (kicking). H. And, to be out of your debt, take that, sir (striking).

Having little relish for this species of debate, and other persons being present to see fair play, I hastily withdrew. This being a pretty good specimen of the fashionable political conversation, I have amused myself by giving you this account of it, which, I hope, may likewise amuse some of your readers.

For the Literary Magazine.

L.

MODES OF HISTORICAL WRITING.

THERE are three methods which a historian may pursue with respect to those great subjects, of laws, manners, and the rest, which are so much more interesting, for the most part, than a mere narrative of transactions, and for the sake of which alone, in many periods, civil transactions are worth knowing.

He may interweave, them with the body of his narration, either incidentally, as Herodotus, Froissart, and most writers of contemporary history have done, or by way of illustration, like the greater part of modern writers; or, secondly, he may station them in preliminary books, or reserve them for appendices, wherever they bear only a ge

neral connection with the main body of the work, still pursuing the former method, where it is essential to discuss the causes, or elucidate the circumstance of particular events. Such is the plan of Robertson, in his Charles V, and of Hume, in his History of England. The arrangement of Gibbon is compounded of these two kinds, but partakes much more of the former. The third scheme of disposition is that of Dr. Henry; in which every distinct subject forms a distinct chapter, and the corresponding chapters in each successive volume may be read as a continued independent account of the matters to which they relate.

Of these, the first is beyond comparison the most pleasing to those who read history as a source of amusement. The fatiguing monotony of battles and sieges in war, cabals and negociations in peace, so palls on the mind in almost every his torical work, that intermingled passages, which illustrate laws, literature, or manners, show like Oases in the great desert, and afford rest ing places to the weary reader, from which he may launch out again refreshed into the tedious wilderness. These passages are in many of the best authors more precious, by being rare. Man, so studious to record his crimes and his miseries, casts a careless eye on the laws which protect, the arts which adorn, and the commerce which enriches him. It was not indeed till lately, that the great and leading uses of historical knowledge seem to have been well understood, or that philosophy, with Montesquieu as her high priest, taht us to consider the progress of the species as of more importance than the pedigree of kings, and commissioned those painful, though sometimes refractory drudges, the antiquarians, to labour as her pioneers in the collection of facts, which her more favoured sons must afterwards combine and generalize. Hence, in modern histories, these interesting branches bear a much greater proportion to the main stock than formerly; and for that rea

son cannot so easily be incorporated with it, without distracting us by frequent transitions, losing that time which is required to recal our ideas, and bring our minds to the proper focus, and rendering it difficult either to refer to particular passages, or to study collectively any particu lar subject.

To this confused, immethodical disposition, the third plan is directly opposite. It seems indeed at first to be the very reverse of confusion : every genus has its chapter, and every species its section. Yet this extreme accuracy of arrangement may sometimes defeat itself. Many facts are to be found, of which we cannot well say whether they should be referred to the civil or ecclesiastical departments, to the history of science or of art. Thus, the disputes between Henry II and Becket are related by Dr. Henry under the head of religion, though no events could be of a more general nature. But, what is more material, there is great danger that too rigorous an adherence to the systematic division may produce a jejune spiritless performance, a mere anatomy of history, more resembling the dry precision of an index or chronological table, than a skilful and harmonious combination of the several parts of the work. Such is, perhaps, in some degree, the case with Dr. Henry's production.

A field is likewise thus entered, larger than any one can reasonably hope to explore; and the writer is naturally induced, by the very disposition which he adopts, to dwell with unnecessary minuteness on many subjects, which, as they reflect little light on civil history, and furnish little towards philosophical views of the species, ought to be seldom and slightly noticed. Such are long details of theological schisms and heresies, which properly fall under another province, and impose a needless obligation on the writer, the fulfilment of which will perhaps excite the gratitude of few of his readers. Such too is the history of language, a subject extremely inter

esting in itself, but, for the same reasons, rather injudiciously mingled with very different matter.

The second of the three methods above mentioned is, therefore, best suited to the greater part of histories. In the standard works of Hume and Robertson, while the chain of events is never broken by long dissertations, the narrative is agreeably varied and perspicuously illustrated by occasional digressions, and general views of the state of society are introduced in proper places, without a tedious accuracy, or an attempt to exhaust materials of an indefinite extent.

For the Literary Magazine.

ORIGIN OF PLANTS.

THE first vegetation of a new soil, remote from continents and the intercourse of man, is a botanical problem of difficult solution. Objections may be made, with much plausibility, to the received notions of winds, water, and birds conveying an adequate and sufficiently varied supply of seeds in a state fit for germination. The hypothesis of temporary and partial acts of creation, adapted to existing circumstances, is unphilosophical, and by no means countenanced by facts. What have these supplementary acts effected for the island of Ascension, a volcanic ejection of comparatively recent date? Its immense distance from land renders its acquisition of seeds difficult and precarious. There are but two ways of supplying it with seeds, one by the water of the ocean, the other by birds. By one or other of these ways, it has got possession of three species of plants, and only three, a singularity no where else known.

Many existing islands are, probably, only portions of continents, and received their quotas of vegetable germs in periods of high antiquity.

Others, which owe their present appearance to the agency of subterraneous fires, may have previously existed at no great depth under the surface of the sea, and in such a state as to preserve the rudiments of future plants from the contact of air or other causes of corruption. Amid the physical convulsions which may have agitated various tracts of the earth's surface, some of the many sources of vegetable reproduction may have been kept alive, while the fortuitous movements of wind, water, and birds may have also contributed their aid. In reasoning, however, on such a subject, we may truly say, that we are of yesterday, and that we know nothing. History, eager to keep pace with the busy but fleeting events which harass the successive generations of rude and of civilized society, presumes to disdain the silent yet majestic march of nature, who steadily observes her course, heedless of the clamours of contending factions, and of the miseries which man inflicts on his brother. And thus, since the days of Theophrastus till those of Linnæus, the flower, which has not ceased, with the return of spring, to disclose its beauty, or dispense its fragrance, and the more homely herb, which has continued to minister to the shelter or sustenance of animated beings, have, as subjects of inquiry, been condemned to peculiar neglect.

The affinities and migrations of the vegetable families, in the early and subsequent ages of the world, it is now impossible, from want of proper documents, to ascertain. Either they never found a place in the registers of man, or, if they did, their history has for ever perished. What given tract of land can, at this day, exhibit the uninterrupted genealogy of its vegetable tribes? Impressions of races, long since extinct in the colder latitudes, are still visible in various strata of schistus, coal, and iron stone. Their prototypes have, perhaps, perished, or, perhaps, they exist in Africa or Indostan.

W.

For the Literary Magazine.

ON AMERICAN NEWSPAPERS.

"THE Americans," said a splenetic friend of mine, who has travelled a good deal in America, "are a nation of readers. Taking one with another, a far greater number of the people devote some of their time to reading, than of any other people in the world. In Great Britain, France, and Germany, those who do, or who can read, bear a very small proportion to the rest. They are scarcely one to twenty; but, in America, almost every man is a student.

"They read not casually, or now and then, but regularly and daily. They betake themselves to reading as punctually as to dine or to labour. Surely, then, they must be a very learned nation. All their minds must be turned to a generous and enlightened key. Society must wear, among them, a face totally different from that of any other nation, and is not this so?

"Why, one must pause a little, and inquire what is it they read? Books of history, or poetry, or science, or morals? Much depends upon their kind of reading. Are they meagre ballads, or fabulous legends? If they be, we can only expect them to be confirmed in every silly prejudice or vile superstition. A sort of volume is left, daily at every man's door. What are its usual contents? To judge of its efficacy, it is necessary to know the tenor of it.

"If we examine them, we shall find them to be nothing more than newspapers; pages in which the two factions, who divide the nation, perpetually fight their battles; and, in every species of invective and stratagem, endeavour to get the better of their adversaries. In this school, you may judge what progress the American student is likely to make in the art of governing his passions, enriching his fancy, or enlarging his understanding."

It is thus that the traveller af fected to sneer at us poor Americans, for our attachment to the noble pursuits of history and politics. "I would fain know, Mr Caviller," returned I, "how the time of a citizen can be better employed than in watching the conduct of his governors, in detecting their mistakes, and, if need be, censuring or displacing them. For what end has the power of chusing our governors and legislators been vested in us, if we do not exercise it with judgment and vigilance; if we do not inquire into their claims to our favours, and regulate our choice by the tendency of those measures which we know they will adopt?

"But mere political discussions do not wholly engross these publications. Are they not continually supplied with intelligence from all parts of the world? And do they not inform us of the fate of battles, the schemes of statesmen, and the change of rulers, in every part of the world? And what objects are more sublime, more interesting to the rational inquirer, than the successive scenes of this great drama?

"There is no soul among us so sordid and groveling that has not an active curiosity in relation to these great events. He will always lay down his groat for the sake of knowing what they are about in Germany, Egypt, or Bengal. The scene cannot be so remote but we

have an eye to it; and sultan Tippoo, and field-marshal Suwarroff, are people with whom every American, the meanest and most laborious among us, is as intimately ac quainted as with his next door neighbour."

Not convinced by these reasonings, my companion continued to insinuate, that to know the incidents of a German and Italian campaign, cannot very materially benefit a native of America, who has his bread to get by his industry, and his family to cherish by domestic virtues. He prated much about the necessity of limiting our attention, in the first

place, to our own family affairs; and, if those will allow any of our time to be employed in general pursuits, he urged that it ought to be devoted to the improvement of the heart and the understanding, by writings that explain to us our personal duties, and illustrate them by familiar, pertinent, and amusing examples; by books that advance us in the knowledge of the properties and processes of nature; that make us, or tend to make us, better fathers, husbands, and neighbours, better artists or husbandmen.

"Now, no instruction of this kind," he continued, " can be gainod from the bickerings of faction, vulgarly politics, and from the shreds and fragments, trifling, contradictory, and vague, to be found in newspapers, and gravely dignified with the name of history. Is any professional skill, any maxim of domestic economy or of social conduct, any improvement in the condition of ourselves or our neighbours, to be drawn from these fountains? How is any man the better in his taste, his temper, or his fortune; how is any man the wiser, in any art or science worth knowing, by hearing that the king of Sweden is playing the fool heroically, and that policy has made the king of Prussia a knave; that Bonaparte has made himself brother to emperors, and kings of his brothers?

"A newspaper, considered as one among a merchant's documents, is a very good thing; as conveying, in due season, information of what is to be bought and sold; of ships arrived, or departing, or taken, or shipwrecked-may not be conveniently dispensed with by the owners of ships, and the venders and buyers of commodities; but why so many of its pages should be stuffed with declamation against individuals, and with scraps of news respecting the operations of armies and ambassadors in another hemisphere, is not easily conceived.

"If these events are worth knowing, it is ridiculously absurd to seek the knowledge in this way. Stay

VOL. VI. NO. ZXZXZ.

till a little time has rendered the issue of transactions certain, and stay till you have the whole of a particu lar event, in all its parts and incidents, before you, instead of indulging a childish impatience, and eagerly swallowing every mutilated lying rumour. A little time will not only afford you an authentic account of an event, but will save you all that expence of time which is wasted in procuring and reading premature, unauthentic, and, what is worse, unintelligible statements.

"If the knowledge of great events, passing in the other hemisphere, be of any value, newspapers, as at present conducted, are liable to insurmountable objections; inasmuch as, instead of faithfully and accurately affording this knowledge, they only tend to confuse, bewilder, and mislead. In all they give us, there is such confusion or contradiction of dates; such opposite accounts of the same events; such idle and incessant repetitions, that no mortal can extricate himself from out the chaos. After a week or a month's study, a man may safely conclude that a certain battle has been fought, or a certain treaty ratified; but as to the causes and circumstances that belong to them, the memory is burthened with a discordant and obscure mass. Of these he knows nothing, till some impartial and enlightened observer has collected, arranged, sifted, and weighed the accompanying testimony, and, profiting by lights for which it was requisite patiently to wait, or deeply to search, he delivers, in a narrative of half a page, what had filled, in its impure and chaotic state, not less, perhaps than a hundred columns of a hundred gazettes.

"But even admitting that there is some use in perusing these desultory and impertinent details of news, what have I, a plain farmer perhaps, or a man of some studious vocation, physician, lawyer, or divine, or a country shopkeeper or city artisan; what has such a one as I to do with this long history of shipping, this catalogue of sloops and brigs to be sold or freighted, these lists of

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