as well esteemed by the Italians of his time, and ascribes the invention of it to James king of Scotland:-which a foreigner might naturally do, as all the Scotch kings of that name, particularly the first, third, fourth, and fifth, were skilled both in music and poetry.

But though I admit Tassoni's testimony as a proof that the Scotch music is more ancient than Rizzio, I do not think him right in what he says of its inventor, nor can I acquiesce in the opinion of those, who give the honour of this invention to the monks of Melrose. I rather believe that it took its rise among men who were real shepherds, and who actually felt the sentiments and affections, whereof it is so very expressive. Rizzio may have been one of the first, perhaps, who made a collection of these songs; or he may have played them with more delicate touches than the Scotch musicians of that time; or, perhaps, corrected the extravagance of certain passages; for one is struck with the regularity of some, as well as amused with the wildness of others :-and in all, or any of these cases, it might be said with truth, that the Scotch music is under obligations to him. But that this style of pastoral melody, so unlike the Italians, and in every respect so peculiar, should have been established or invented by him, is incredible; nay, (if it were worth while to assert any thing so positively on such a subject) we might even say, impossible.

CLOCKS AND DIALS

WERE set up in churches in the middle of the seventh century. There remain, however, no certain traces to whom this invention really belongs. The Greeks had their dials from the Jews, and to the diagram described upon the steps of the palace of Ahaz, a gnomon was added at Sparta, by Anaximenes. The Romans distinguished the day merely by its two natural periods, sunrise and sunset. Noon was ascertained and proclaimed by the crier of the consuls, when the sun was perceived betwixt two particular points of the forum. The first dial among them was placed on a pillar by the rostrum, and although inaccurate, from the lines not answering with precision to the hours, it continued their standard for the division of time, till Scipio Nasica invented a horologe, which could be serviceable under a cloudy as well as a sunny sky; the first of which was introduced into Britain by Cæsar. The one has received the appellation of horarium, or hour-glass, and the other the name of diale, a dial, or day-piece among us,

The Honourable Daines Barrington, in his "Observations on the earliest Introduction of Clocks," says, 'Dante seems to be the first author who hath introduced the mention of an orologio, which struck the hour," and has quoted the passage, (Dante, Paradise, C. x.)

In England, precisely about the same time, the famous clockhouse, near Westminster-hall, was furnished with a clock, to be heard by the courts of law, out of a fine imposed on the chief justice of the King's Bench, A. D. 1288. At Canterbury was another, A. D. 1292.

There appears no evidence of the exact time when this useful and important invention was introduced into this church, or rather into its service, as it was first placed in the leaden steeple; and, on the demolition of that structure, and the removal of the bells, it was fixed in the tower of the cathedral, in which it now remains. Chimes were also added to its movements, but they are at present disused.

RULES

TO BE OBSERVED ON A PARTY OF PLEASURE.

of

IF you have a mind to make yourself of consequence on a party pleasure, object, pertinaciously, to every thing proposed. The power of a beautiful woman over her lover, may, perhaps, be even greater than that of an indulged wife over her husband :-take, however, the instance of an over-indulged wife. Let us imagine a party made-It consists of yourself, your fond husband, his two sisters, two young gentlemen, and another young lady. You, with your husband and his sisters, go in the coach, the young lady in the chaise with one of the gentlemen, the other gentleman rides his own horse. It would be no bad trick, as soon as you are stepping into the coach, to say you are taken suddenly ill, and so, for that day, disappoint the whole company. But, however, the party is once more formed; the day is arrived, and you sally forth as before: but not with the same glee: for after a balk of this sort, there will always be a damp on these expeditions, which takes off full half of the joy. You intend to be out three days; to go directly to Windsor; spend the day there; go next day to Esher, to see the seats of the Duke of N. and Mr. P.; to go that night to Hampton-Court; and next day down the river, having seen the palace and gardens, in a six

oared barge, ordered to meet you for that purpose. By this means you will enjoy all the beauties of the Thames, with the many fine seats on its banks, and you finish your expedition at Vauxhall.The weather is fine!-Away you go!

--

When you have travelled three or four miles, you may begin to be very uneasy, either with being too hot or too cold, orjust what you please. Or you may be ill with riding in the coach, and say 'you can go no farther. Married women have always a pretence for complaining of unaccountable disorders. The whole cavalcade, at your command, will stop, and, for the benefit of more air, you immediately displace the young lady from the chaise, especially if you see her pleased with her companion. This may not be very agreeable to the young gentleman, but, out of complaisance to you, he cannot dispute the exchange. This must not hold long; especially if you should hear your husband laughing or talking in a cheerful manner in the coach. You must drag him from thence, but by no means take him into the chaise with you, for then you leave all the unmarried folks to themselves. You must plead fear of his driving, and therefore beg the young gentleman on horseback to get into the coach, and suffer your husband to take his horse, that you may have the pleasure of his company all along by the side of the open carriage. To this your husband must consent, though his dress is unsuited for riding. He will not refuse, as pouts might be the consequence. So out of the coach he gets, mounts the horse, and rides in the dust to Windsor. While dinner is getting ready, you walk over the castle. Here you have nothing to do but to shew an absolute indifference to what your husband, or any of the party, point out to you as objects worthy of notice, or subjects for your entertainment. N. B. It would be no bad thing to take a knotting bag with you, to employ your fingers and attention, as much as possible, while the others are delightedly employed in admiring the paintings, and other beauties of that superb castle. If your husband's sisters desire you to observe any particular picture, praising the drawing of it, or noticing how well it expresses such a part of history, you may say, "Indeed I do not pretend to understand! painting and history, and such learned things. I leave them to such wise ladies as yourselves." Although you may give your sisters just one snap, when it lies so fairly in your way, yet, for the most part, seem by no means low spirited, or out of humour, (that does not come in yet) but rather hum a tune, and, every now and then, seem vastly delighted with some trifling thing or other that

you meet with, which ought to be below the notice of a girl of eight years of age. At dinner be as troublesome as possible.Dislike every thing that is provided. Send an hundred ways to get something you can eat. If there be a dish your husband's sisters are fond of, hate the smell of it so much it must be immediately sent from table. Should any one recollect that you once liked the dish, you must boldly declare you always hated and ab horred it, and had been ready to faint twenty times by its being brought to table, but "nobody regards now whether things were agreeable or disagreeable to you." The more false this assertion is, the more likely you will be to carry your point-that of dumbfounding all the company. For, even if you have eaten of that dish but the day before, it will only strike the company silent with astonishment at your assurance. Never leave off till you have set on foot some wrangling dispute or other, that shall sour the whole company, and put them off from every thought of pleasure. Instead of walking afterwards to see the views, complain of fatigue, and declare an inclination for cards; add, with a sigh, "you hope, indeed, you may keep your sisters-in-law and your husband, to make the party," but positively declare against confining the rest. Then boldly take the cards from your knotting bag, for nobody will dare to tell you that you put them there for that purpose.→ The rest of the company will have little pleasure in their walk from this division of the party, and you must exert all your spleen and ill-humour at cards; tell your sisters, "they wish you hanged, you know, for keeping them from the fellows," and all the spiteful things you can invent. They dare not contradict you, for fear of offending their brother, and you may, therefore, work them within an inch of their lives. At length the young lady, not being in the control of your husband's sisters, mutinies against your power.→→ Now the sport begins; for if she has your spirit, with her knight on her side to defend her cause, she will grow pretty saucy; your fond husband will support your insolence towards her. The gentlemen find their honour concerned in the debate; an appointment is made behind Montagu house, and your party of pleasure ends in a duel.

Q. Z.

CVOL. XXI.

SELECT SENTENCES.

THE single effort by which we stop short, in the down-hill path to perdition, is, itself, a greater exertion of virtue than an hundred acts of justice.

To what a fortuitous concurrence do we not owe every pleasure and convenience of our lives! How many seeming accidents must unite before we can be clothed or fed! The peasant must be disposed to labour; the shower must fall; the wind must fill the merchant's sails; or numbers must want the customary supply.

WIT and understanding are trifles without integrity. It is that which gives value to every character. The ignorant peasant, without faults, is greater than the philosopher with many :what is genius, what is courage, without an heart?

THE LANGUAGE OF PASSION.

-for

Q. Z.

AMONG the particulars that compose the social part of our nature, a propensity to communicate our opinions, our emotions, and every thing that affect us, is remarkable. Bad fortune and injustice affect us greatly'; and of these we are so prone to complain, that if we have no friend nor acquaintance to take part in our sufferings, we sometimes utter our complaints aloud, even where there are none to listen.

But this propensity operates not in every state of mind. A man immoderately grieved, seeks to afflict himself, rejecting all consolation: immoderate grief accordingly is mute: complaining is struggling for consolation.

It is the wretch's comfort still to have

Some small reserve of near and inward woe,
Some unsuspected hoard of inward grief,

Which they unseen may wail, and weep, and mourn,
And glutton-like alone devour.

Mourning Bride, Act I. Scene I.

When grief subsides, it then, and no sooner, finds a tongue: we complain, because complaining is an effort to disburden the mind of its distress.

This observation is finely illustrated by a story which Herodotus records, b. 3. Cambyses, when he conquered Egypt, made Psam