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in number, attached at the base or to the middle of the divisiony of the perigone.
Genera, TOFIELDIA. COLCHICUM. Halesworth,
TO THE EDITOR OP TIE POCKET MAGAZINE.
SIR, -A short time ago, having spent an evening with a very worthy, and sensible friend, the conversation turned on the imprudence of one, who had formerly been of our acquaintance: but who, having early experienced a very grievous injury, and gross injustice, from which resulted various ininor afflictions, had been so weak, as to contribute to the complete blight of every ulterior prospect of advancement in life, (which probably would have been presented, if not by the affection or benevolence, at least by the pride of some very lofty members of his family,) by a fatal recourse to that very worst source of consolation-inebriety. It was on my return home, after that discourse, when na. ture, fatigued in me, sought refreshment in sleep, that. my lousy imagination, reverting to the subject of my waking cogitations, presented me with the following vision :
I fancied, that I beheld a man on the summit of a precipice, the uneven descent of which admitted of occasional landing-places. An accident had burt his finger. A short time might have effected its cure: but with a folly, hardly credible, he rolled himself from the top; and was received by the first projection. The fall was severe, his arm was fractured by it: and he lay for a considerable time in a state of stupefaction, At length waking, he perceired his additional calami. ty. He reproached himself with bitterness, for his ri. diculous precipitancy—“Had I remained where I was, said he,
my misfortune was but trifling: a few days, and the application of common remedies, would bave completed my recovery. But now, alas ! 'I must inevitably endure several weeks of pain, if indeed I should ever wholly recover.' I stretched out my hand to him, 66 Rise, my friend," said I, “it is not even yet too late ;
exert yourself with the arm that is still left you, to regain ihe height from whence you have fallen. Trust me there are apertures sufficient to admit your foot. You may again be exalted, and time will again restore to you the use of your injured member.” He cast his eyes upwards, was dismayed at the difficulties which be foresaw would obstruct his ascent, and pusillani. mously giving way to the anguish with which he was uppressed, he exclaimed—“ Oh! blessed state of insensibility! from which I have returned to behold myself involved in afflictions, which I might once have avoided, but which are now irremediable! Surely next to the happiness of never having experienced trouble, thou art the most desirable. Again let me endeavour to enjoy thee.” Again he rolls; and, in his second fall, breaks his leg, and again lies stupned. Alter some time, he appeared to revive. I could perceive him atlempt to get up, but bis last disaster had rendered it impracticable for him to stand. I could no longer hear his voice: the chasm between us was tvo great. I saw him in despair continuing to descend in search of forgetfulness. At each succeeding fall, his appearance became more disgusting. I turned from him with horror. “Such,” said 1, " are the gradations of the drunkard; every interval of reflection bringing with it a pang, never felt on any former occasion. Each return of intoxication begets for him a fresh loss-a fresh aiiiction-and a fresh self-reproach.Still, with au infatuation bordering on phrenzy, he goes on, bartering, for a momentary oblivion of his cares, weeks, months, and years, (if Inis coustitution is gifted with sufficient durahility to allow it,) of sorrow and shame. The respectable part of his acquaintance, ashamed of his society, fall off from bim, and even the profligates, with whom he riots, and by whom he is encouraged, internally despise him. His relations, to whom he inevitably becomes a disgrace, shut their hearts and doors agaiust him. His property is squan : dered. His credit is exhausted. His fame is blasted. The glow of health and content no longer mantles ou his cheek. His aspect grows cadaverous. He becomes asqualid loathsome object--odious to others, and un bearable to himself."
These reflections were so strongly impressed on my
I Dream to paper, with a view of presenting it to your Magazine, and begging for its insertion in a little work from which I have derived equal delight and improvement.
S. H. B. Marsham-street, Westminster. Birits very hot 418 stoffer
MAXIMS, ANECDOTES, &c.
Continued from p. 108.
An author, who is a man of taste, is, with our wornout public, like a young girl in the midst of a circle of old libertines,
Literary men, particalarly poets, are like peacocks, to whom we stingily give a little corn in their coups, and who are sometimes let out of them, that they may show their tails; while the cocks and hens, the geese and the turkeys, run about freely in the poultry yard, and fill their crops at their leisure.
The memoirs, which men in office, or literary men, even those who have been considered as the most modest, lave left behind them, as materials for history, betray their secret vanity, and call to ou recollection the story of the saint who left a hundred thousand crowns to, procure his own canonisation.
It seems as if there were in the brain of women, a cell less, and in their hearts a fibre more, than in those of men. A particular organization must be necessary to render them capable of supporting, watching over, and caressing children!!
The most completely lost of all days is that on which we have not laughed.
The Abbé Fraguier having lost a cause which had been twenty years in debate, some one remarked to him what a deal of vexation he must have suffered from a law suit, which at length was decided against him. "Oh!" replied he, “ I gained it every evening, for the whole twenty years." This speech is a very
philosophical one, and may be applied to every thing. It explains why we can love a coquette. For one day that she makes you lose your suit, she makes you win it during six months.
When we have learned to know the miseries of nature, we despise death; when we have learned to know those of society, we despise life.
Fontenelle had composed an opera, in which there was a chorus of priests, at which the devotees were much shocked. The archbishop of Paris wished to obtain the suppression of the piece. “ I do not meddle with bis clergy,” said Fontenelle, “ let him not meddle with
King Stanislaus having granted pensions to several of the abolished order of Jesuits, M. de Tressan said to him, “ Sire, will not your
majesty do something for the family of Dawien, * which is in the greatest distress?"
The man wbo is poor, but independent of man, is at the command of necessity alone. The man who is rich, but dependant, is at the command of another man, or of many men.
Public opinion is a tribunal which the good man ought never decidedly to acknowledge, but which he ought never to except against.
Those who are desirous to please in the world, must make up their mind to be taught many things which they know, by persons who are ignorant of them.
It is in some measure with literary reputation, and particularly with reputation acquired from the theatre, as it is with the great fortunes which used formerly to be made the colonies. It was almost sofficient to go over there, to become immensely rich. But these large fortunes have been themselves injurious to succeeding generations. The exhausted soil is no longer so abundantly productive.
The reader will see all the bitterness of this speech, when he recollects that Damien was a man who attempt. ed to assassinate the king of France.