core, that does not shrink from the keenest inspection; inward freedom from remorse and peturbation, unsullied whiteness and simplicity of manners; a genuine integrity,

Pure in the last recesses of the mind;

if you think these advantages an inadequate recompence for what you resign, dismiss your scruples this instant, and be a slave merchant, a director-or what you please.

VII-Description of the Vale of Keswick, in Cumberland. BROWN. THIS delightful vale is thus elegantly described by the late ingenious Dr. Brown, in a letter to a friend.

In my way to the north, from Hagley, I passed through Dovedale; and to say the truth, was disappointed in it. When I came to Buxton, I visited another or two of their romantic scenes; but these are inferiour to Dovedale.They are all but poor miniatures of Keswick, which ex ceeds them more in grandeur than you can imagine; and more, if possible, in beauty than in grandeur.

The

Instead of a narrow slip of valley, which is seen at Dovedale, you have at Keswick a vast amphitheatre, in circumference above twenty miles. Instead of a meagre rivulet, a noble living lake ten miles round, of an oblong form, adorned with a variety of wooded islands. rocks indeed of Dovedale are finely wild, pointed, and irregular; but the hills are both little and unanimated; and the margin of the brook is poorly edged with weeds, morass and brushwood. But at Keswick, you will on one side of the lake, see a rich and beautiful landscape of cultivated fields, rising to the eye in fine inequalities, with noble groves of oak, happily dispersed, and climbing the adjacent hills, shade above shade, in the most various and picturesque forms. On the opposite shore, you will find rocks and cliffs of stupendous height hanging broken over the lake, in horrible grandeur, some of them a thousand feet high, the woods climbing up their steep and shaggy sides, where mortal foot never yet approached. On these dreadful heights the eagles build their nests; a va riety of waterfalls are seen pouring from their summits, and tumbling in vast sheets from rock to rock, in rude and terrible magnificence; while, on all sides of this im mense amphitheatre, the lofty mountains rise round,

piercing the clouds, in shapes as spiry and fantastic as the very rocks of Dovedale. To this I must add the frequent and bold projections of the cliffs into the lake, forming noble bays and promontories: In other parts they finely retire from it, and often open in abrupt chasms or clefts, through which at hand, you see rich and uncultivated vales; and beyond these at various distance, mountain rising over mountain; among which, new prospects present themselves in mist, till the eye is lost in an agreeable perplexity;

Where active fancy travels beyond senre,

And pictures things unseen.

Were I to analyse the two places into their constituent principles, I should tell you, that the full perfection of Keswick consists in three circumstances; beauty, horror and immensity, united; the second of which alone is found in Dovedale. Of beauty it hath little, nature having left it almost a desert; neither its small extent nor the diminutive and lifeless form of the hills, admits magnificence; but to give you a complete idea of these three perfections, as they are joined in leswick, would require the united powers of Claude, Salvator, and Poussin. The first should throw his delicate sunshine over the cultivated vales, the scatterd cots, the groves, the lake, and wooded islands. The second should dash out the horror of the rugged cliffs, the steeps, the hanging woods, and foaming waterfalls; while the grand pencil of Poussin should crown the whole, with the majesty of the impending mountains..

So much for what I would call the permanent beauty of this astonishing scene. Were I not afraid of being tiresome, I could now dwell as long upon its varying or ac cidental beauties. I would sail round the lake, anchor in every bay, and land you on every promontory aud island. I would point out the perpetual change of prospect; the woods, rocks, cliffs and mountains, by turns vanishing or rising into view; now gaining on the sight, hanging over our heads in their full dimensions, beautifully dreadful,. and now by a change of situation, assuming new romantic shapes; retiring and lessening on the eye, and insensibly losing themselves in an azure mist. I would remark the contrast of light and shade, produced by the morning.

and evening sun! the one gilding the western, the other the eastern side of this immense amphitheatre; while the vast shadow, projected by the mountains, buries the opposite part in a deep and purple gloom, which the eye can hardly penetrate. The, natural variety of colouring which the several objects produce, is no less wonderful and pleasing; the ruling tints in the valley being those of azure, green and gold; yet ever various, arising from an intermixture of the lake, the woods, the grass, and cornfields; these are finely contrasted by the gray rocks and cliffs; and the whole heightened by the yellow streams of light, the purple bues, and misty azure of the mountains. Sometimes, a serene air and clear sky disclose the tops of the highest hills; at other times, you see the clouds involving their summits, resting on their sides, or descending to their base, and rolling among the valleys, as in a vast furnace. When the winds are high, they roar among the cliffs and caverns, like peals of thunder; then, too, the clouds are seen in vast bodies, sweeping along the hills in gloomy greatness, while the lake joins the tunalt, and tosses like a sea. But in calm weather, the whole scene becomes new; the lake is a perfect mirror, and the landscape in all its beauty; islands, fields, woods, rocks and mountains, are seen inverted, and floating on its surface. I will now carry you to the top of a cliff, where if you dare approach the ridge, a new scene of astonishment presents itself; where the valley, lake and islands, seein lying at your feet; where this expanse of water appears diminished to a little pool, amidst the vast and unmeasurable objects that surround it; for here the summits of more distant hills appear beyond those you have already seen; and, rising behind each other, in successive ranges, and azure groups of craggy and broken steeps, form an immense and awful picture, which can only be expressed by the image of a tempestuous sea of mountains.

Let me noW conduct you down again to the valley and conclude with one circumstance more; which is that a walk by a still moonlight (at which time the distant water falls are heard in all their variety of sound) among these enchanting dales, open such scenes of delicate beauty, repose and solemnity, as exceed all description.

VIII.-Pity, an Allegory.-AITKIN.

IN the happy period of the golden age, when all the celestial inhabitants descended to the earth, and conversed familiarly with mortals, among the most cherished of the heavenly powers, were twins, the offspring of Jupiter, LOVE and Joy. Wherever they appeared, the flowers sprung up beneath their feet, the sun shone with a brighter radiance, and all nature seemed embellished by their pres

ence.

They were inseparable companions; and their growing attachments, was favored by Jupiter, who had decreed, that a lasting union should be solemnized between them, so soon as they were arrived at maturer years.-But, in the mean time, the sons of men deviated from their native innocence; vice and ruin over ran the earth with giant strides; and Astrea, with her train of celestial visitants, forsook their polluted abodes, Love alone remained, having been stolen away by Hope, who was his nurse, and conveyed by her to the forests of Arcadia, where he was brought up among the shepherds. But Jupiter assigned him a different partner, and commanded him to espouse SoRRow, the daughter of Ate. He complied with reluctance; for her features were harsh and disagreeable, her eyes sunk, her forehead contracted into perpetual wrinkles, and her temples were covered with a wreath of cypruss and wormwood.

From this union sprang a virgin, in whom might be traced a strong resemblance to both her parents; but the sullen and unamiable features of lfer mother, were so mixed and blended with the sweetness of her father, that her countenance, though mournful, was highly pleasing. The maids and shepherds of the neighbouring plains gathered round, and called her Prry. A red breast was observed

to build in the cabin where she was born; and, while she was yet an infant, a dove, pursued by a hawk, flew into her bosom. The nymph had a dejected appearance; but so soft and gentle a mein, that she was beloved to a degree of enthusiasm. Her voice was low and plaintive, but inexpressibly sweet, and she loved to lie, for hours together, on the banks of some wild and melancholy stream, singing to her lute. She taught men to weep, for she took a strange delight in tears; and often, when the virgins of

the hamlet were assembled at their evening sports, she would steal in among them and captivate their hearts by her tales, full of charming saduess. She wore on her head a garland, composed of her father's myrtles, twisted with. her mother's cypruss.

One day, as she sat musing by the waters of Helicon, her tears by chance fell into the fountain, and ever since, "the Muse's spring has retained a strong taste of the infu sion. Pity was commanded by Jupiter, to follow the steps of her mother through the world, dropping balm into the wounds she made, and binding up the hearts she had broken. She follows with her hair loose, her bosom bare and throbbing, her garments torn by the briars, and her feet bleeding with the roughness of the path. The nymph is mortal, for her mother is so; and when she has fulfilled her destined course upon the earth, they shall both expire together, and Love be again united to Joy, his immortal and long betrothed bride.

IX.-Advantages of Commerce.-SPECTATOR.

THERE is no place in town which I so much love to frequent, as the Royal Exchange. It gives me a secret satisfaction, and in some measure gratifies my vanity, as I am an Englishman, to see so rich an assembly of my countrymen and foreigners consulting together upon the private business of mankind, and making this metropolis a kind of emporium for the whole earth. I must confess I look upon High Change to be a grand council, in which all considerable nations have their representatives. Factors in the trading world, are what ambassadors are in the politic world. They negociate affairs, conclude treaties, and maintain a good correspondence between those weal thy societies of men, that are divided from one another by seas and oceans, or live on the different extremities of a continent. I have often been pleased to hear disputes adjusted between an inhabitant of Japan and an alderman of London; or to see a subject of the Great Mogul entering into a league with one of the Czar of Muscovy. I am infinitely delighted in mixing with these several ministers of commerce, as they are distinguished by their different walks and different languages. Sometimes I am jostled among a body of Armenians; sometimes I am lost in a