« AnteriorContinuar »
much of the Sarsa Decoction. This course was regularly persevered in for the space of six weeks, with incredible success, the Ulcers cealed to spread, and, after fome time, a large portion of the upper jaw, with four teeth complete and in their sockets, came away. The Tonsils threw off large floughs, and the Ulcers which crrroded the mouth became narrower and narrower. An Exfoliation succeeded from the Palate, In three months he was free from all symptoms of the Lues, was strong, and even robaft.
The above, is a fingulat cafe ; but we cannot concur with Mr. Geach in concluding, that milk and gruel are therefore to be confidered as panaceas; or that they may vie with other anti-venereals for pre-eminence. The most difficole cafes which occur in the venereal practice are fuch, where the infection is complicated with a scorbutic or other bad habit of body. Here the previous bad habit sometimes so exactly affumes the appearances which were produced by the infection itself, that it is almost impoffible to determine, when the communicated disease is removed, and consequently, when we are to defift from the farehet ose of mercury.--In all such cafes, repeatedly to urge one course of mercury after another, is nothing more than to add strength to the disease ; the medicine itself heightening the fymptoms, and aggravating every untoward appearance. ---Mild, antifcorbutic medicines, joined with a welldirecied regimen, are the only means which can be pursued with propriety and fuccefs.
NOV EL S. Art. 38. The History of a young Lady of Distinction. Translated
from the French of Madam de Beaumont. 12mo. 2 Vols. 6s. Noble.
We gave some account of this agreeable series of letters in our Review for April 17:4; when the present translation (lately re-advertised) was first published, without mention of the original writer's name.
SERMON S. I. Tbé Connexion between Religion and Gomyrnment, and the Usefulness of both to rivil Society - In Worcester-cathedral, Joly 13, 1916, at the Alizes. By John Rawlins, A. M. Rector of Hafelton in Glouceltershire, and Minister of Budsey and Wichamford in Worcestershire. Fletcher,
II. The Rarion il Affurunce of a Dyin: Patar.- At Pair-Screet. Horsleydown, South-wark, Sept. 4, 1766, on the Death of the Rev. Mr. Benj. 'Treacher. To wbich is added, the Speech delivered at the grave, By Cha:les Bulkley. Buckland.
Ill. The Nature and Ground of Rcligious Liberty - Preached before the Right Hon. the Lord. Mayor, the Court of Aldermen, and the Liveries of the several Companies of the City of London, at the Cathedral Church of St. Paul, on the fifth of November. 1736. By John Myonnety D. D. Morning-preacher of Trinity.chapel, Conduit Street; and Rector of Well- 1 ilbury, Effex. The second Edition. Owen
This is a plain, fenfible discourse, on the right of private judgment, and is re published with a view to put fome stop to the progress of the emissaries of Rome, who, it is to be feared, are, at present, too successful in Ipreading their unfiriptural and detefable tenets.
For NOV EMBER, 1766.
Letters from Italy, describing the Customs and Manners of that
Country, in the years 1765, and 1766; to which is annexed, an
culiar to Englishmen, it is from them, chiefly, that defcriptions of Italy are to be expected ; and it is to Englishmen also that such descriptions are peculiarly interesting. The authors who have already obliged the world with their travels through that part of Europe, are exceedingly numerous ; but the generality of them have confined their observations principally to pictures, statues, buildings, and other monuments of antiquity, without paying much regard to the manners and customs of the modern Italians : the Author of this volume, on the contrary, makes the present inhabitants of Italy, their falhions, religion, and opinions, the prime objects of his animadversion, referring his readers for the above-mentioned particulars, to such books as have been professedly written on those subjects.--For the information and entertainment of those who may not yet have perused the entire volume, we shall select fuch parts as appear to us most new or interesting, without distinguishing the particular letter in which they occur, and fubjoining juch transient observations as our own recollection may happen cccasionally to fuggeft, in the manner following:
VENICE, September, 1765. 'I
must confess to you, that I have yet seen nothing which has afforded me so much pleasure as that extraordinary genius Mons. Voltaire. My principal motive for passing the Alps by the way of Geneva, was a visit to that gentleman. I knew him in the days of my youth, and had the
honour to be sometimes * Author of Ope ariins in Surgery, and A Crirical Enquiry into the Present State of Surger;, &c. VOL. XXXV. Z
in 1749, and now that he is become the topic almost every village in Europe, I could not th Italy, without granting myself the indulgenc once more. He lives about four miles from G 1plendid and hospitable manner, keeping an which ftrangers of every nation find an ealy intro tiguous to his house is a mall theatre, which people, but, when enlarged, will contain two carpenters were beginning the alteration the d him. Perhaps he never had been more happy in of his life, than at the juncture I saw him. Clairon, who has quitted the stage, was on a had exhibited that week in two characters of h I unfortunately arrived at Geneva the night af formed for the last time. I had often seen her found yy Voltaire, that, excellent as she was in had improved in the last fixteen years beyond all cannot give you an idea of the extacies he was hours together, acting and repeating a hundred fhe had been particularly happy in her expreff have such a brilliancy in those moments, that y above feventy-two. He had that morning write Mad. Clairon, in verse, which he read to the con foul copy : there were some eralements in it, but perform a play he is obliged to seize the opportu Itrolling company of comedians come into the of Geneva ; with some of these, and a niece him, he then eniertains himself and friends; I Mad. Clairon had given a perfection to this which he had never hoped for. I with, for the country, it were possible that a Frenchman could guage of Shakespeare: I am persuaded could V energy of our poet's descriptions, he would talk barbarisms, and his fome beauties. He who has fa of merit himself, would gladly pay the tribute du of Shakespeare, and, poflibly, grieve to have at translations which he has prelented to his country cimen of Shakespear's manner of writing. It is logizes for the faintness of the execution; but, fti the excelve inferiority of his imitations; had he! as an Englishman does, that they have not the lea of the strength, spirit, and imagination of the orig rainly would never have bazarded the publication. to have heard him say, about the year 1726, th arned Englith, be had read the Spectators in Seen wondered that such dull w.itings fhould p
Datlon; but now, said he, that I have acquired the tongue, I wipe my bh with Plutarch. The phrase was too remarkable, and made too strong an impression on the ears of a young man, to be ever forgotten. This story I would apply to Voltaire himself, and every Frenchman who learns English after he is twenty-five years of age. Though they may be sufficiently instructed to relish the good sense, and, possibly, the wit and humour of our Spectators in prose, the powers of Shakespeare in measure, will always remain unfelt. They may understand the construction, as a school boy reads Virgil, but they never will catch the fire. If Voltaire found so much difference betwixt the original, and translation of the Spectators, I do not doubt, but with a thorough knowledge of English, he would find as much, or more, betwixt the Shakespeare he now reads, and the Shakespeare he would then feel.'
We have transcribed the above digression, chiefly for the sake of our foreign readers, to whom it will explain the true reason why a writer of Mr. Voltaire's abilities, who is generally supposed to understand our language, (and does understand it very well, for a foreigner,) should have spoken so illiberally of our great Shakespeare, as even to have called his dramatic performances monstrous farces ; an expression which we shall hardly ever forget, or forgive.
• In the way to the Lazaretto (at Venice) the island where quarantine is performed, you pass in fight of several islands, where the churches, convents, &c. furnish an abundant entertainment to the virtuosi, who have a taste for Palladio, Titian, Paul Veronese, &c. One of the most curious fights we saw amongst these curiosities, was the famous Mr. (M--I---e*, we suppose,) who was performing quarantine at the Lazaretto. All the English made a point of paying him their compliments in that place, and he seemed noć a little pleased with their attention. It may be supposed that visitors are not suffered to approach the perfon who is performing quarantine. They are divided by a passage of about seven or eight feet wide. Mr. was just arrived from the East; he had travelled through the Holy Land, Egypt, Armenia, &c. with the Old and New Testament in his hands for his direction, which, he told us, had proved unerring guides. He had particularly taken the road of the Israelites through the wilderness, and had observed that part of the Red Sea which they had paffed through. He had visited Mount Sinai, and flattered himself he had been on the very part of the rock where Moses (pake face to face with God Almighty. His beard reached down to his breast, being of two years and a half growth; and the dress of
Son to the celebrated Lady Mary W - M-.e.
Istni wa Armenian. He was in the moft enthutakic raptures w;:1 Å-zia and the Arabs; his bed was the ground, his in sce, tus beverage water, his luxury a pipe and coffee. His pode was to return once more amon, chat virtuous peopie, wsze reaals and hospitality, be faiz, were such, that, se you to drop your clock in the high-way, you would find it toute fix months afterward ; an Arab being too honeft a man to pick up wat he knows beiorgs to another; and were you to o er ney for the provision you meet with, he would ask you with concern, why you had to mean an opinion of his benevolence, to suppose him capable of receiving a gratification? Therefore money, said he, in that country, is of very little use, as it is only necessary for the purchase of garments, which in so 9127m a climate, are very few, and of very little value. He eitinguishes, however, betwixt the wild and the civilized Arab, and proposes to publish an account of all I have written.'
· Gallantry, says our Author, is fo epidemical in this city, that few of the ladies escape the contagion. No woman can ga ito a public place, but in the company of a gentleman, called bere Cavaliere Servente, and in other parts of Italy a Ciceibeo. This Cavaliere is always the same person ; and the not only is atached to him, but to him fingly; for no other woman joins the company, but it is usual for them to fit alone in the box, at the opcra, or play-house, where they must be, in a manner by themselves, as the theatres are so very dark, that the spectators. can hardly be said to be in company with one another. After the opera, the lady and her Cavaliere Servente retire to her casine, where they have a tete-a-tete for an hour or two, and then her visitors join them for the rest of the evening or night; for on some festival and jolly days, they spend the whole night, and take mass in their way home. You must know a casine is nothing more than a small room, generally at or near St. Mark's Place, hired for the molt part by the year, and facred to the lady and her Cavaliere ; for the husband never approaches it On the other hand, the husband has his revenge ; for he never fails to be the Cavaliere Servente of some other woman; and, I am told, it would be so ridiculous for a husband to appear in public with his wife, that there is no instance of such a phenomenon; and therefore it is imposible for a woman to bear up against the torrent of this fashion. Were a young wife to flatter berfeif the had married a man for the love and esteem The bore to him, and that it would be injurious to his honour to pass lo. many private hours with a Cavaliere Servente, what would be the consequence? She must live for ever at home ; no woman would dare to appear with her, and she could not find a man: who would not expect the privileges of a Cavaliere Servente : Accordingly, it seldom happens that a bride holds out beyond 2