which the boy laboured, and made it a surgical instead of a medical case. There was certainly a good deal of art employed in bringing forward evidence of that nature, because, he understood, that an inflammation in the bladder was no unusual concomitant of a scarlet fever, which was a general inflammation ofer all parts of the body. He had every respect for professional men, but it would be a case of extreme hardship if his client should be obliged to pay for medicines, several of which had been returned unused. Here Mr. Coomb was again called up. He said, that his mother had returned several medicines when the boy was getting better, under the idea that he had taken enough. The doctor's boy, on the contrary, denied that, to the best of his knowledge any medicines had been sent back.

Mr. Serjeant Marshal, the Judge, went over the evidence to the Jury, who, without hesitation, found a verdict in favour of the plaintiff, for 61.

SONG..

KATE KEARNEY.

Oh, have you not heard of Kate Kearney,
She lives on the banks of Killarney,
From the glance of her eye, shun danger
and fly,

For fatal's the glance of Kate Kearney;
Her eye is so modestly beaming,

You'd ne'er think of mischief she's dreaming;

Yet, Oh! I can tell how fatal's the spell,
That lurks in the eye of Kate Kearney.
Oh should you e'er meet this Kate Kearney,
Who lives on the banks of Killarney;
Beware of her smile, for many a wile
Lies hid in each look of Kate Kearney;
Her smile 's so bewitchingly simple,
O, there's mischief in every dimple,
Who e'er dares inhale her sigh's spicy gale,
Must die by the breath of Kate Kearney.

Of all the words in Lexicon,
Not one to my poor thinking,
Can make a man so wise a Don,
As those in use for drinking;

To say he's drunk, so coarse the sound,
That Bacchus ask'd Apollo

To give some terms in wit profound, And he the phrase would follow.

When ladies drink, why then they're gay,
But to a toping gipsey
Of vulgar rank, we sneering say
Upon my soul she's tipsey.
When Lords are bubb'd, they're in the sun,
And cits are mighty muddled,
But when a husband up is done,

The wife cries-dearee 's fuddled.

When Jack'is grogg'd, he's shipp'd his beer,
He cries you're half seas over,
And brisk young Damon roars, my dear,
I'm prim'd just for a lover.
And some are rocky, some are muzz'd,
And some disguis'd and mellow,
But goddesses must now be buss'd,
For I'm a merry fellow.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

For The Port Folio.

CHARACTER OF A CLERGYMAN. If e'er true virtue could the muse engage, Or stamp just value on the poet's page, The man I sing the foremost place should claim

With the first worthies on the rolls of fame.

Learn'd, not pedantick; courteous, yet sincere ;

Mild to all others; to himself severe.
With soul-subduing eloquence he warms,
Which, while convincing, still forever
charms.

Cheerless from him no penitent can go,
For sacred ever is the tear of wo:
E'en though his words like lightning seem
to play,

His inward pity wipes their tears away.
The praise of man he seeks not to engage,
Nor preaching fears the rich offender's
rage,

The bold apostle of an iron age.

Unlike the dull declaimers of the time, Who by their sermons ne'er remove a crime,

His style is simple, yet his speech su

blime.

Such is the sage; in fame superiour far To him who glitters in the pomp of war; A fame that stands recorded with the just, Well-earned by virtue, not heroick dust.

L. G.

Vol. V.

No. 19.

For The Port Folio.

TRAVELS.

LETTERS FROM GENEVA AND FRANCE.

Written during a residence of between two and three years in different parts of those countries, and addressed to a lady in Virginia. (Continued from page 275.) LETTER XIV.

My dear E

NISMES, when a Roman town, had been a place of such opulence, or so particularly favoured by the Government, that water for the accommodation of its inhabitants was brought from two fountains, at the distance of nearly sixty miles. It was carried along, as you may suppose, in the way made use of in your neighbourhood to convey water to an overshot wheel; but on its arrival at the river Gardon, it was necessary that an acqueduct should be constructed, in order to connect the opposite hills. This acqueduct, which is still entire, is what is called the Pont du Gard, and is supposed to be one of

the most magnificent remains of former times: it is composed of three arcades in the handsomest style of architecture, built one above the other to the height of one hundred and sixty feet, and on the top is a channel of two feet and a half in breadth, by a perpendicular wall of three, along which the water flowed. This channel was formerly covered, but the flat stones, which formed the covering, have been thrown off near one of the extremities, and I walked into it for about twenty steps; the extreme length of the whole building from hill to hill, is a little more than eight hundred and twenty feet. It would seem like affectation, or at least like exaggeration, if I were to pretend to express to you, what I felt upon the near approach of this noble monument of Roman taste and magnificence; we remained in the neighbourhood of it for sometime, and took the last look at it with regret: I here fell in by chance, with a peasant from the village of La Chapelle, from which Mons. de la Chapelle, of whom you have often heard me speak, took his title, and in the neigh

M m

bourhood of which he held a large estate. I was glad to hear this peasant speak so affectionately of his former Seigneur, whose absence, and subsequent misfortunes he seemed sincerely to deplore; that a kindhearted, liberal man, possessed of great riches both in France and St. Domingo, should live to be beholden to a former slave of his for a dinner, and that slave to be the keeper of a prison where white men were confined, is one among the many instances of the vicissitudes of human affairs, which should make us tremble for ourselves.*

We might here have shortened our distance, by taking the road which led to the Pont de St. Esprit, but Avignon was not to be overlooked, and we accordingly proceeded in that direction; we now continued to ascend a high and bleak ridge; the land became poor, and the vineyards thinly scattered. To the stout horses and oxen of the fertile plain we had quitted, succeeded small mules and asses, one of which last, I saw yoked to the same plough with a miserable COW. We also saw large flocks of sheep, with a moveable hut for the shepherd, and guarded by stout dogs, whose necks were armed for battle against the wolves. At length, after a long and tedious ascent the valley of the Rhone began to open to our view; a valley thickly interspersed with every mark of human industry and prosperity, and a river so often mentioned in history, and proceeding from the very spot towards which we were bending our steps. In ad

dition to this prospect there stood, commanding our attention on the back ground, a long chain of the distant Alps in all their sublimity of height, and of snow, as old as the world itself. After a few miles, the prospect of the valley became enlarged, Villeneuve was at our feet, then came the Rhone, then a small island,

This good humoured and kind-hearted man was afterwards put to death by order of Dessalines.

next the stately ruins of an ancient bridge, and in the midst of meadows, vineyards, and gardens, the venerable city of Avignon, so famed for its numerous steeples and for the palace of its former sovereign, and still defended, in appearance, by its ancient walls. I must now refer you to the history of Jane of Naples, whom of all the bad women of former times, you will be perhaps least disposed to imitate. Read how she came to give this country to the See of Rome, and how the Popes kept their court there during the celebrated schism, which contributed so much to prepare the minds of men for the reformation: it was a favourite measure with Louis XIV to take Avignon away from the Pope, whenever he was displeased with the measures of the court of Rome, and you may perceive in the letters of Madame de Sevignè, how pleased she used to be, that her daughter should act the vice Queen for a time, and that Mons. de Grignan should retrieve his circumstances out of the revenues of the country; read also, if you can, some account of the shocking scenes which took place in this venerable city, and in the neighbourhood during the fever of the revolu tion; figure to yourself too, that it was here that a division of Hannibal's army crossed, whilst the main body amused the simple barbarians about twenty miles lower down, and you will now be able to conceive how interesting the view was as we descended the eminence above Villeneuve about an hour before sunset. On our arrival at the side of the river I was glad to have an opportunity of showing how visibly the sea had retreated from the spot we stood on, for the whole bank had been evidently a bed of oysters.

The inn at Avignon was the best we had ever been in, and the furniture the most splendid: the room we sat in being hung with crimson silk damask and with curtains of the same materials; it would have been a good place to have staid a day at,

had we not been desirous of overtaking and it was urged to us as an inducement that we might so easily visit Vaucluse, a name more familiar to you, I believe, than Jane of Naples; as I never possessed the Italian language well, I can never have been capable of doing justice to Petrarch, and that I presume, is the reason why I had no great desire to visit Vaucluse. His love for Laura, the ruling passion to appearance, of his life, seems if not affected at least misplaced; it by no means contributed to her reputation, and seems to have been fatal to her peace of mind; and what man really in love, would ever talk of rivulets being stopped by his sighs, or swelled by his tears? He had the great merit, however, of reviving a taste for ancient literature, and his letter to Rienzi, when at the summit of power at Rome, is excellent, and contains advice which a much greater man of modern times might listen to with advantage.

I saw but little of Avignon, as you may suppose, but what I saw pleased. and interested me; there were but few carriages in the streets, but a great many good houses, and several pretty women: if you wish to know anything of the manufactories of the

mar; the country we travelled through seemed to owe everything to a ju→ dicious irrigation, and there are fields of clover, in addition to the vines and olives we had been accustomed to. From time to time, there was a view of mountains, on our right, and on our left was the river, which ap peared low, but which had left very evident traces of former freshes. Orange is a small, but very ancient town, and once distinguished by many monuments of Roman taste and magnificence. Of these there remains but one solitary arch, formerly a gate of the town, perhaps, but in great preservation, and ornamented in a very superiour style with naval and military emblems. The common opinion of the country is, that it was a triumphal arch erect ed in honour of Marius's victory over the Ambrones; but it is neither probable that such a memorial would have been erected so far from the field of battle, which is known to have been at Aix, or that Marius, or any of his party could have found archi tects capable of such a performance.

POLITE LITERATURE.

LETTER IV.

To His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales. SIR,

In absolute monarchies, all com

nance.

If you have traced us on the map, you must have seen that our course

had generally been a little to the North-East, it now, on our leaving Avignon became due North, for we followed the direction of the river on our way through Orange to Monteli

Sovereign and the people is cut off by the terrours of despotism. Per sonal familiarity, indeed, the Prince may allow to a few favoured individuals, more safely than in freer governments, because the distance of political situation prevents all`danger of that want of reverence and respect which is fatal to dignity. In monarchies more limited, the Sovereign and his family rely on the confidence and affection of the people; a fealty of a more generous and valuable 'kind, which the higher rank deserves by its virtues, and the

lower yields from a reasonable and independent conviction of them. Flattery it is in the power of slaves to bestow, but fame is the gift only of freemen.

When I advance these truths to a Prince of the House of Brunswick, I cannot be in danger of his displeasure; and I know too well the peculiar condescension of him whom I now take the liberty of addressing to doubt his acceptance of that honest tribute which I offer him, of approbation mixed with counsel, of attachment to his person and his family, joined to a wish and a hope that his conduct may always deserve it. With a peculiar complacency of disposition you have thrown aside the distance of rank and the reserve of royalty; you have opened not only the actions of your publick, but the habits of your private life, to the view of the people; and disdaining to impose on them by the weight of your name or the parade of your dignity, have conciliated their affections by the charms of your appearance and the graces of If there has been sometimes a small degree of errour or excess in this affability and condescension, we are disposed rather to regret than to censure it; we regret the accident of its misapplication, but we are not inclined to blame the exercise of it in you. The sunshine that gives to the breeze its health and to the fields their verdure, breeds at the same time the useless weed and noxious exhalation. We complain of the weed and the exhalation, but he must be a peevish misanthrope indeed who quarrels with the sunshine.

your manner.

Sober reasoners, however, may perhaps dispute the justice of my simile, they will tell us of the difference between the seeming imperfections of the natural, and the real imperfections of the moral world, and point out the latter as subjects of correction and amendment, which it is the province of wisdom to discover and of goodness to remove. In the instance alluded to, your talents are

equal to the discovery, and your prus dence as well as virtue, they trust, will prompt the correction. There are persons on whom your favour and friendship are bestowed, whom, even amid the adulation with which it is the misfortune of princes to be deceived, you will easily discover to be unworthy of that favour and friendship. You have mixed enough with the world to be able to judge of men and, in this country, the channel of publick opinion is sufficiently open to the highest personages, even without the advantage of your accessibility to obtain it. The people have too much reverence for your name to apply their common traditionary adages to the effects of society upon character; but though the communication may not hurt you, it affects the publick, doubly affects it, if the unworthy are brought forward into place and distinctions and the deserving excluded from stations which they ought to have filled.

We know, Sir, at the same time, and make allowance for that society which naurally fastens itself on a young man's freer hours; and do not expect that, amid amusement or festivity, there should always be an unexceptionable selection of his companions or his guests. There is a distinction which will readily be made between that circle with which men of high rank and important stations unbend their leisure, and that with which they trust their serious moments. "Nobody, said the Frenchman, is a hero to his valet de chambre;" and he who should attempt it would be very little of a hero to any one else. But the valet de chambre who dresses, or the idle companion who amuses a great man, are mere appendages of his private dressingroom or parlour, with whom, if they keep in their proper place, the publick has nothing to do, and after whom it will never inquire. But if they counsel him in important affairs, if they lead him in momentous or delicate situations, he must be accountable for his misplaced and pre