ent representations have been given. Lord Monbod-. do, one of his greatest admirers, in speaking of his "Rhapsodist" in particular, does not hesitate to pronounce it not only the best dialogue in the English language, but the sublimest philosophy; and says, that, if we will join with it his "Inquiry," it is the completest system, which we have, either of morality or theology. He l'kewise considers it as a masterpiece, in point of style and composition.

Even several of the authors, who have distinguished themselves by their direct opposition to many of his sentiments, have nevertheless mixed no small degree of applause with their censures. In particular, Mr. Balguy in his "Letter to a Deist," says "The purity and politeness of his style, and the delicacy of his sentiments are and must be acknowledged by all readers of taste and sincerity. But nevertheless as his beauties are not easy to be overlooked, so neither are his blemishes. His works appear to be stained with so many gross errors, and his fine thoughts are so of ten mingled with absurdities, that however, we may be charmed with the one, we are forced to condemn the other."

But whatever praise may be bestowed on the genius and philosophy of lord Shaftesbury, the grand point, in which he hath rendered himself justly obnoxious to the friends of religion, is his having inters persed through the "Characteristics" a number of insinuations, which appear unfavourable to the cause of revelation; and, though his preface to Whichcot's sermons, and his "Letters to a Student at the University" have been adduced as a proof of his christianity, yet there are so many sceptical passages in his writings, that we do not hesitate to pronounce him a doubter at least, if not an absolute unbeliever. Thus far, however, may be fairly conceded, that in his general principles, he appears much less exceptionable than numbers who have appeared in the character of deists, the whole bent of his phi

lesophy being to inculcate these two principles, viz. that there is a Providence, which administers and consults for the whole, to the absolute exclusion of general evil and disorder, and that man is made by that Providence, a political or social animal, whose constitution can only find its true or natural end, in the pursuit and exercise of the moral and social virtues.

The style of lord Shaftesbury's compositions is also a point, on which there is some diversity of sentiment; but for the fullest and most judicious criticism, which has appeared upon that subject, we shall refer the reader to Dr. Blair's lectures on rhetoric and belles lettres,

CORDE, (CHARLOTTE) was born in the department of Calvados in France, about the year 1774. During a part of the French Revolution, she had been in habits of confidence with many of the deputies of the legislature, and her spirit was animated with the greatest devotion to the cause of liberty and of her country,

The factions, which prevailed in the convention, had excited her abhorrence, and amongst those whom she held most odious, was the infamous Marat, whose sanguinary proscriptions, denunciations and maxims, had filled her soul with a determined resolution for his destruction. She accordingly left her native home in the beginning of July 1793, with an express determination of assassinating him, which she effected on the evening of the day following, after conversing with him on some political topics, by stabbing him to the heart with a dagger.

Having perpetrated this deed, she walked out of the house with the most perfect composure, and was soon after arrested. When brought before a magistrate, she looked on him with a smile of the most in dignant and contemptuous mockery, and declared, that she gloried in releasing her country from a monVol. II. No. 11. Q

ster; that she had fixed her mind on his death, as ne cessary to its salvation; that there were others, who should also perish, had she the power, but as she knew she could sacrifice but one, she was determined to begin with the most execrable of them all. She even spoke at large in justification of the deed, as necessary to the honour and happiness of her country, and glorious to herself; that it was due to justice to rid the world of a sanguinary monster, whose doc. trines were framed for indiscriminate destruction, and who was already condemned by the public opinion.

Her deportment, during her trial, was modest and dignified. There was so engaging a softness in het countenance, that it was difficult to conceive how she could have armed herself with sufficient intrepidity to perpetrate such a deed, or to sustain herself with so great collection on the verge of death. She heard her sentence pronounced with attention and composure, and left the court with the greatest serenity, to prepare for the last scene. When on the scaffold, she behaved with the same fortitude, which she had uniformly displayed from the commencement of this extraordinary transaction. As the executioner was attempting to tie her feet to the plank, she resisted from an apprehension that he meant to insult her; upon his explaining himself, she submitted with a smile; and her head was immediately after severed from her body. The author, from whom we have abstracted this article, speaks of her conduct, in terms of the highest applause. For our part, though we are inclined to believe, that she performed a service to her country, by ridding it of a detetestable monster, yet we can, by no means, approve of the means by which she accomplished it, for we shall ever consider assassination as a crime of the deepest hue; and we conceive it to be still more horrid, when perpetrated by the delicate hand of a female.

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CORNARO, (LEWIS) a noble Venetian, memorable for having lived healthful and active to above 100 years of age, by a rigid course of temperance. Amongst other performances, he wrote a treatise which has been translated into English, and often printed, entitled "Sure and certain methods of attaining a long and healthful life," of which we shall here give some account, not only because it illustrates the life and character of Cornaro, but may also be of use to some people, who place the chief happiness of life in the pleasures of the table.

He was moved to compose this little piece, at the request of some young men, who, seeing him then in his 81st year, in a fine florid state of health, were desirous to know, by what means he preserved a sound mind in a sound body, to so advanced an age. He describes to them, therefore, his whole manner of living. He tells them, that, in his youth, he had been of a weak constitution, and that, by irregular indulgence, he had reduced himself, when about 40 years of age, to the brink of the grave, at which extremity, he was told by his physicians, that he had no chance for his life, unless he should forthwith become sober and temperate; that he had at first, found it extremely difficult to comply with the regimen prescribed, but driven by the necessity of the case, and exerting resolutely all the powers of his understanding, he at last became confirmed in a settled and uninterrupted course of temperance, in consequence of which, all his disorders had left him in less than an year, and that from that time he had enjoyed an uninterrupted state of good health.

To shew what security a life of temperance affords against the ill effects of hurts, and disasters, he relates an accident which befel him, when he was very old. One day being out in his carriage, he had the misfortune to be overturned and dragged by the horses a considerable way upon the ground. His head, his arms, and whole body were very much bruised, and

one of his ankles put out of joint. The physicians, seeing him so grievously mauled, concluded it to be impossible for him to live three days; in this, however, they were greatly mistaken; for, by pursuing the mode of treatment usually observed in such cases, he presently recovered and arrived at his former stability and firmness.

Some sensualists had objected to his manner of living, and, in order to evince the reasonableness of their own, had urged, that it was not worth while to mortify one's appetites at such a rate for the sake of being old, since all that was life, after the age of 65, could not be properly called a "living, but a dead life." "Now, says he, to shew these gentlemen how much they are mistaken, I will briefly run over the satisfactions and pleasures, which I myself enjoy in this 83d year of my age. In the first place, I am always well, and so active withal, that I can with ease, mount a horse upon a flat, and walk to the top of very high mountains. In the next place, I am always cheerful, pleasant, perfectly contented, and free from all perturbation and uneasy thoughts.'

After mentioning how he enjoyed himself at his different country-seats, he goes on," I frequently "I make excursions to some of the neighbouring cities for the sake of seeing my friends, and conversing with the adepts in all arts and sciences; architects, painters, statuaries, musicians, and even husbandmen. I contemplate their works, compare them with the ancients, and am always learning something which is agreeable to know. I take a view of palaces, gardens, antiquities, public buildings, temples, fortifications, and nothing escapes me, which can afford the least amusement to a rational mind. are these pleasures at all blunted by the usual imperfections of great age; for I enjoy all my senses in perfect vigour, my taste so very much, that I have a better relish for the plainest food now, than I had for the choicest delicacies, when formerly immersed in a

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