rich shopkeeper, who, finding his uninvited visitors to come in greater numbers than be expected, made his escape from them, and came to me for protection he was followed by a small party of the guests, who claimed a right of being guests at his marriage; the shopkeeper said he was willing to entertain a proper number; he agreed, I think, to tertain about three hundred, the opposite party wanted four hundred, and I believe that there was a compromise for three hundred and fifty. Among the other sources of expence to the Hindoo, besides marriage, are charitable distributions to a great extent, on the anniversary of the

en

death of several of his ancestors, his father, his mother, and several others; though he gives no dinners to his friends, he gives dances; the Hindoos are expensive in dancing women, in servants, in fine clothes, and in horses; all these articles are the produce of his own country, and not likely to be sent from our out-ports.-With regard to civilization, I do not exactly understand what is meant by the civilization of the Hindoos; in the higher branches of science, in the knowledge of the theory and practice of good government, and in an education, which, by banishing prejudice and superstition, opens the mind to receive instruction of every kind, from every quarter, they are much inferior to Europeans: but if a good system of agriculture, unrivalled manufacturing skill, a capacity to produce whatever can contribute to convenience or luxury; schools established in every village, for teaching reading, writing, and arithmetic; the general practice of hospitality and charity amongst each other; and above all, a treatment of the female sex, full of confidence, respect, and delicacy, are among the signs which denote a civilized people, then the Hindoos are not inferior to the nations of Europe: and if civilization is to become an ar

ticle of trade between the two countries, I am convinced that this country will gain by the import cargo.

Anecdotes of Sir JOSHUA REYNOLDS, and some of his Literary Friends. (From NORTHCOTE's Life of Reynolds, 4to. London, 1813.)

POPE.

WHEN young Reynolds first came

to London, he was sent by his master to make a purchase for him at a sale of pictures, and it being a collection of some consequence, the auction-room was uncommonly crowded.

Reynolds was at the upper end of the room, near the auctioneer, when he perceived a considerable bustle at the farther part of the room, near the door, which he could not account for, fainted, as the crowd and heat were and at first thought somebody had so great. However, he soon heard the name of " Mr Pope, Mr Pope," whispered from every mouth, for it was Mr Pope himself who then entered the room. Immediately every person drew back to make a free passage for the distinguished poet, and all those on each side held out their

hands for him to touch as he passed: Reynolds, although not in the front row, put out his hand also, under the arm of the person who stood before him, and Pope took hold of his hand, as he likewise did to all as he passed.

JOHNSON,

At the time when Sir Joshua resided in Newport-street, he, one afternoon, accompanied by his sister Frances, paid a visit to the Miss Cotterells, who lived much in the fashionable world. Johnson was also of the party on this tea visit; and at that time being very poor, he was, as might be expected, rather shabbily and slovenly apparelled. The maid servant, by accident, attended at the door to let.

them

them in, but did not know Johnson, although he had been a frequent visitor at the house, he having always been attended by the man servant. Johnson was the last of the three that came in; when the servant maid, seeing this uncouth and dirty figure of a man, and not conceiving he could be one of the company who came to visit her mistresses, laid hold of his coat just as he was going up stairs, and pulled him back again, saying, "You fellow, what is your business here? I suppose you intend to rob the house." This most unlucky accident threw poor Johnson into such a fit of shame and anger, that he roared out like a bull, for he could not immediately articulate.

I have heard Sir Joshua repeat a speech which the Doctor made about this time, and in which he gave himself credit in two particulars :"There are two things," said he, "which I am confident I can do very well: one is an introduction to any literary work, stating what it is to contain, and how it should be executed in the most perfect manner; the other is a conclusion, shewing, from various causes, why the execution has not been equal to what the author promised to himself and to the public."

IMITATORS.

Once, when the Bishop of St Asaph was sitting to Sir Joshua, the conversation turning on Garrick, the bishop asked him, how it was that Garrick had not been able to make any excellent players with all his instructions? and Sir Joshua's answer was," Partly because they all imitated him, and then it became impossible: as this was like a man's resolving to go always behind another; and whilst this resolution lasts, it renders it impossi

ble he should ever be on a par with him."

When Garrick once complained to Sir Joshua of the daily sarcasms with which he was annoyed from Foote, the comedian, Sir Joshua answered, that Foote, in so doing, gave the strongest proofs possible of sensibly feeling his own inferiority; as it was always the lesser man who condescended to become malignant and abusive.

GOLDSMITH..

It was very soon after my first arrival in London, where every thing appeared new and wonderful to me, that I expressed to Sir Joshua my impatient curiosity to see Dr Goldsmith, and he promised I should do afterwards Goldsmith came to dine so on the first opportunity. Soon with him, and immediately on my entering the room, Sir Joshua, with a designed abruptness, said to me, "This is Dr Goldsmith; pray why did you wish to see him?" I was much confused by the suddenness of the question, and answered, in my This, in one sense of the word, was "Because he is a notable man." hurry, conduct of Goldsmith, that Sir Joshua so very contrary to the character and burst into a hearty laugh, and said, that Goldsmith should, in future, always be called the notable man.

One day when Drs Goldsmith and Johnson were at dinner with Sir Joshua, a poem, by a poet already alluded to, was presented to Sir Joshua, by his servant, from the author.Goldsmith immediately laid hold of it, and began to read it, and at every line cut almost through the paper with his finger nail, crying out "What dd nonsense is this;" when Sir Joshua caught it out of his hands, saying, " No, no, don't do so; you shall not spoil my book, neither:" for the Doctor could not bear to hear of another's fame.

SHE

SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER.

When Goldsmith's comedy of " She Stoops to Conquer" was to be brought out on the stage, on the 15th of March in this year, he was at a loss what name to give it, till the very last moment, and then, in great haste, called it, "She Stoops to Conquer, or the Mistakes of a Night." Sir Joshua, who disliked this name for a play, offered a much better to him, saying "You ought to call it the Belle's Stratagem, and if you do not I will damn it." However, Goldsmith chose to name it himself, as above; and Mrs Cowley has since given that name to one of her comedies.

Goldsmith was in great anxiety about its success, he was much distressed in his finances at the time, and all bis hopes hung on the event; and at the dinner preceding the representation of his play, his mouth became so parched and dry, from the agitation of his mind, that he was unable to swallow a single mouthful. The actors themselves had great doubts of its success; but, contrary to their expectations, the play was received with great applause; Sir Joshua and a large party of friends going for the purpose of supporting it if necessary. The dinner party, which took place at the Shakespeare, is humourously described by Cumberland. Dr Johnson took the head of the table, and there were present the Burkes, Caleb Whiteford, Major Mills, &c. &c.

I remember Dr Goldsmith gave me an order soon after this, with which I went to see this comedy; and the next time I saw him, he inquired of me what my opinion was of it. I told him that I would not presume to be a judge of its merits: he then said, "Did it make you laugh ?" I answered, "Exceedingly." "Then," said the Doctor," that is all 1 require."

JOHNSON'S Portrait.

that portrait of his friend Dr Johnson which represents him as reading, and near-sighted. This was very displeasing to Johnson, who, when he saw it, reproved Sir Joshua for painting him in that manner and attitude, saying, "It is not friendly to hand down to posterity the imperfections of any man." But, on the contrary, Sir Joshua himself esteemed it a circumstance in nature to be remarked as characterizing the person represen ted, and therefore as giving additional value to the portrait.

Of this circumstance Mrs Thrale says, "I observed that he would not be known by posterity, for his defects only, let Sir Joshua do his worst:" and when she adverted to his own picture painted with the ear trumpet, and done in this year for Mr Thrale, she records Johnson to have answered, "He may paint himself as deaf as he chooses; but I will not be blinking Sam."

Feb. 1814.

Truth

Truth and beauty bend over the stream, and, wondering, behold their image in every wave. Thou wert early the darling of holy nature. Thy mother brought thee forth in the meadow, where Simon pours its stream into the Scamander, and, exhausted, she let thee fall on the dewy flowers. Soon didst thou turn with a poet's eye to the sinking sun, which, looking from the snow-covered mountains of Thrace, on the purple waves of the Hellespont, greeted thee with flaming countenance. Thy tender hand, red with the reflexion, was lifted high in the air to grasp it. Nature smiled, blessed thee, and pressed thee to her breast. She formed thee as she formed the heaven; as she formed the rose, and the dew that drops on the rose from heaven. So carefully did she form the boy and the youth. She gave him the ardent glow of feeling; she gave, what she gives only to her favourites, the tears which flow from every feeling; those gushing tears, which wet the burning cheek, and those softer which, from the trembling eye-lash, run over the pale countenance. She gave to thy soul the tenderness of the dove and the strength of the eagle. She made thee like thy song, now soft as streams in the moonshine, now mighty and thundering as the cataract's roar.

Thoughts written in ZEALAND. "Oh, Inspiration! thou who hast aften sought me on the blowing wings of the rosy morning, often on the dewy breezes of the cool evening; who didst accompany me by the steep impending paths of the holy Alps; and who seized me in a little boat on the green waves of the sea, so that I cried to the son of the rocky cleft; "Why, oh youth! dost thou descend from the thundering wave, into a calmer sea? art thou not here free, strong as the gods? does not slavery wait thy rest? Long not, youth, for a smoother wave!"-Oh, Inspiration! where wert thou, when with beseech

ing voice I sought thee in the midnight hour, by the light of the moon, alone as I wandered by the shore of the resounding sea, amid the roar of the waves, and the glimmer of the stars,

The breezes of night whistled high around me. The sinking glow of evening lingered still over the mountains of Sweden, and a red lustre danced over the summit of the north-sea waves. Bright shone the Sound, illumined by the wandering moon. Sweetly, over both seas, glide ships, with swelling sails; here in the moonlight, there in the dying glimmer of evening. Above me, on the lofty shore, waved the hallowed beech trees, which bear the force of every northern, every eastern blast. A solemn sound whistles over their waving tops, that fills the wanderer with recollections and forebodings. Oh! now I hear, kindly breathing, the voice of youthful remembrances. Here for a short time with you, ye beloved friends, I saw the sun sink beneath the waves of the immeasurable ocean, Here I see the stone on which Emilia sat, while the glow of evening, and the soft blush of feeling, lighted up her countenance, and we sank at her feet. Intoxicated with happiness, my friend, thy gaze wandered from her eyes to the from the sun to her eyes. That luminary appeared to you less beautiful, reflected in the waves of the sea, than in the tears of Emily. Ah! at the sight of the lovers my brother turned, wiped a tear, and looked again on the waves.

sun,