Copy-We, the master chimney sweepers, raideat in Sheffield, whose names are underwarten, do agree to the following resolutions: -L. That we will not take any boy as an prentice under the age of eight years, nor will we bind any one to continue longer in servitude than till he is sixteen years of age. Il. That we will not send out any boy to work before four o'clock in the morning, in anner, nor before five in winter, in the -III. That we will not permit any go out to climb a chimney, after twelve hack at noon; nor will we suffer our apprenor boys employed by us, to seek work, be any way engaged in our business out oors, after five o'clock in the afternoon in er, nor after four in winter.-IV. That boy shall have a good breakfast, before leaves home in the morning; a good dinner tween the hours of twelve and two o'clock, noon; and a good supper between the hours five and seven o'clock in the evening.-V. That every two boys shall be allowed one good ed, with sufficient covering, and they shall allowed at least eight hours rest in cach ht-VI. That we will provide every boy, ith decent and sufficient warm clothing, as sweeping dress, including a pair of good es, to be worn always when he is on duty; a suitable cap, having a plate in front, h his master's name and place of abode enarea on it.-VII. That over and above the weeping dress we will provide for each boy a mplete suit of good clothes, including linen, , shoes, and stockings on every Easter Sunday, and that he shall appear in the same beare "the committee for bettering the condition of climbing boys," &c. on the Monday fallowing, between the hours of twelve and one o'clock at noon, at the Cutlers' Hall, or some other convenient place, and they shall be permitted to dine there, or elsewhere, on that day, at the committee's expence.-VIII. That we will not, on any occasion, lend out our boys to each other, or to any other persons in the trade.-IX. That we do engage on every Lord's Day, to send our apprentices, and boys employed by us, to sonie Sunday school approved by the aforesaid committee, and also to divine service with the rest of the children who attend the same school. which have been frankly stated, considerable good has been effected. Several houses of a loose description in different parts of the city, exclusive of the two before noticed, have been discontinued. In one spot particularly, which had been notoriously marked by this species of iniquity, few, if any, suspected characters remain; and, what nightly street-walkers is generally admitted to be is of still more consequence, the number of much lessened. Another circumstance deserving of notice, with respect to disorderly houses, is, that many creditable inhabitants, who before the existence of the Society, were annoyed by these haunts of riot and infamy, but were disheartened from seeking redress on account of the expense and trouble attendant on such proceedings, are now encouraged to come forward and contribute their information and their aid, although with the vicious. From all these circumstances, the Comcertain prospect of incurring the enmity of the mittec are persuaded, that if the moderate and legitimate endeavours of the Society shall receive that general sanction and support which it may reasonably expect, extensive beneficial effects will follow; consequently, no laboured recommendation of theirs will be necessary, to induce every member and friend of this Institution to persevere in the prosecution of its laudable purpose. 23d Feb. 1809. W. GRAY, Chairman." This may be taken in connection with remarks on the subject of the prevention of prostitution in our last number, page 39. NEW RUPTURE SOCIETY, For the relief of poor persons, of both sexes, afflicted with herniary complaints and prolapses :-Ordered, "That public notice of hospitals, and the conductors of other be given to parochial officers, superintendants charitable institutions, that the benefits of this society are extended to all parts of the kingdom; exact descriptions of the cases, being sent by subscribers (post paid) to Mr. with proper measurements of the patients, Blair, surgeon of the Institution, No. 69, Great Russell Street, Bloomsbury." 35, Red Lion Square. J. MILLER, Secretary. Every contributor of one guinea per annuum, as well as every life governor, is entitled to recommend two patients in the year, Signed by the following master chimney requiring single trusses; of one patient reweepers, in the presence of the committee,quiring a double truss; and a similar priviMIC. MELLON, GEO. RIPPON, WM. lege is extended, in the like proportion, to PEARCE, J. RODGERS, and J. BETTS subscribers of larger sums. Sheffield, March 24, 1809. Subscriptions and donations are received by Messrs. Henry Hoare and Co. the treasurers, Fleet Street; Hankey and Co. bankers, Fenchurch Street; Fuller, Chatteris, and Co. bankers, Lombard Street; Ransom and Co. bankers, Pall Mall; or by James Crump, collector, No. 15, Gloucester Street, Queen Square, of whom may be had the printed plan and regulations gratis. ANIMALS' FRIEND. amusing it might be to our readers to pe historical documents of such petit larcenie Waiving his claims to originality, we do him the justice to acknowledge tha has not followed any of his models in Mrs. Jordan left town yesterday, for Bath. Her son, Lieut. Fitzclarence, of the 10th Dragoons, came to town on Friday, from Brighton, to take leave of her, previous to vulgarisms and wretched puns-and his his departure for the Continent, and perform-lows us to suppose him guilty of thrustin guage is certainly more gentlemanly than ed the journey of fifty-four miles, in a post- those oaths which one of the actors so libe chaise and four, in little more than four used, in exhibiting what his panegy hours. This extraordinary expedition was, in a great measure, induced by the circum- dignify by the name of chaste acting. His style is perfectly unaffected, alth stance of his having given half-a-guinea to the audience did not much relish each driver, at every stage. The Observer, Sunday, April 9, 1809. serious part: that by occasional heavi seemed now and then to overpower with a disorder very frequently caugh new plays; we mean the yawns-whic course prevented them from enjoying the thor's real merits; for, as the learned venerable Bacon sayeth, "in yawning "inner parchment of the ear is extended "when a man yawneth, he cannot he "well."-However. upon the whole, comedy was received with applause, to w the blunders, though hacknied, of a meaning Irishman, a little contributed. The extravagant liberality exercised towards the post boys that is described in this paragraph (which has been copied from a Sunday paper,) for the humane purpose of destroying their master's horses with all possible speed, is surely another glaring proof, amongst the many daily exhibited on the roads and in the streets of the metropolis, of the necessity of Legislative interference. on behalf of these unfortunate animals. The historiographer of this heroic atchievement has not informed us whether it was distinguished by any other mark of cruelty than by merely driving the poor horses at the rate of 13 miles an hour!!! DIDASCALIA. DRURY LANE. Respecting the moral of this piecetruly immoral !-when we see such a char and intreated to dinner not only by the y as Sir Oliver Cypress smilingly pardo lady herself whom he would have sed but by her very parents ;-yet the at has had the assurance at the same time to present them as possessed of the most ex virlue ! We cannot conceive any excuse for ar thor who thus tramples on morality and scribes such serious evils as mere bagatelle is gilding the pill of vice beyond endura and is grossly in unison with what was ni ly exhibited in the lobbies and saloons at two late London theatres-it is making lit ture subservient to pandarism; and clearing way for fashionable and high-titled prostiti The Drury-lane company, now performing at the Lyceum, in the Strand, introduced on Friday, April 21, a new piece called Grieving's a Folly-It relates a double story of grief, one part imaginary and the other fictitious. The former represents a recluse, mourning the imaginary seduction of his wife, who is finally restored to him in all her purity;-Nor can we approve of the light mann while the latter displays the ambition of a ci-devant tailor, Sir Oliver Cypress, knight, who in order to obtain a sentimental reputation affects to be half distracted at the loss of his wife, and watches her picture night and day in a room hung with black. If we cannot praise the writer of this comedy (who is said to be Mr. Lee) for its originality, we must at least compliment him on his extensive reading and memory;-his retention has been such as to enable him to make very free with a variety of authors, and of some of those characters that have lately appeared amusing to the public, which he has completely disfigured to make them pass for his own;" but they are so numerous that a catalogue raisonné would swell this article greatly beyond our convenience-however which the awful and melancholy duty it to charity covereth a multitude of sins,” we think that these sins are decidedly kind, which the most extensive cha need not, and will not, include in the m titude which is to be covered. EULOGIUM OF M. DE LA FONTAINE, [Concluded from page 1160 of Vol. V.] FOL VI. Lit. Pan. May 1809.] Je me sens né pour être en bute aux méchans tours, Lully had engaged him, by repeated entreaties, and very much against his inclinations, to compose the words of an opera, of which, after a long succession of excuses, he made no use. The fabulist, who possessed a very independent mind, felt, on on the occasion, and perhaps for the first time, some degree of ill-humour, at having been prevailed upon to engage in a work which was altogether unpleasant to him, and made a dupe of into the bargain;-he consigned his ill-humour to his verses, to which he consigned everything. If it should have been in consequence of this resentment, and to place in an odious point of view the countrymen of Lully, that he wrote the comedy of the Florentine, so full of gaiety and true comic character, as Le Sage is said to have composed his Turearet, to revenge himself of a financier;-it was that kind of resentment which belongs exclusively to superior talent, and the only example of it with which he can be reproached. The candour of his mind was equal to the goodness of his heart. The rectitude of his conduct, and the ingenuous character of his discourse,could only be equalled by the charm. ing simplicity of his writings. It appeared that reflection and reserve, so necessary to the greater part of mankind who have ever something to conceal, were not requisite in a mind like his, so frank, so open, and so prompt in all its thoughts and emotions: for of La Fontaine it might be atfirined,—that he never said any thing that ought to give offence. He was naturally absent; and if he were accustomed to be alone in the midst of society, he was probably deficient in those powers of conversation which, if they do not advance the possessor of them to celebrity, conduct him frequently to fortune. It is, however, of little consequence to posterity whether or not La Fontaine possessed them. But I do not mean to follow the example of those injudicious panegyrists who decry the quali ties which are not to be found in the character of the men whom they celebrate. Many eminent writers are known to have disting guished their conversation with the same brilliance which is found in their works, while others of equal knowledge have ben deficient in that quality. Boileau, in society, was austere and rude; and Corneille was em barrassed and said but little; while Fenelon ard Racine were full of urbanity, of grace, and of eloquence. These differences attach to the character, and not to the degree of genius. An essential quality to shine and please in conversation, arises from the disposition to render one's self interesting to all around us. The groundwork of La Fontaine's character was a profound indifference for a great muus: ber of objects; a kind of philosophy, which has, at least, as many advantages as inconveniencies, and approaches very near to happiness. Some allowance may be claimed for his absence of mind, since it was equally evident in his own domestic concerns. Never did any man trouble himself less about them. This negligence, which destroyed by degrees his moderate fortune, proceeded, it is true, from great disinterestedness; a quality which always marks a noble mind. Once a year he paid a visit to his wife who had retired to Château Thierry, when he always sold a part of his patrimony which he shared with her. It appears, then, that he had a wife with whom, so remarkable as he was for the sweetness and regularity of temper, he could not live, and a woman too who had both wit and beauty. The wife of Moliere possessed both wit and beauty, yet she made him unhappy. But the philosopher La Fontaine, more wise than the philosopher Moliere, who was all his life dotingly fond and extremely jealous of a wife who rendered him miserable;-La Fontaine, considering his repose as the first of blessings, left his country house, where he could not enjoy that tranquillity without which life is insupportable. The uneasiness, which this separation produced in his mind, was softened by the consolations of friendship. He well deserved to have friends, and he found them among the first literary characters of his time: at court he had not only protectors but benefactors, which is not always the same, and among them were the Contis, the Vendomes, and, above all, the illustrious Duke of Burgundy, the pupil of Fenelon, and who proved himself worthy of his preceptor. It was the protecting kindness of this prince which contributed to keep him in France, when, on being deprived of the asylum which he had enjoyed for twenty years with Madame de la Sabliere, by the death of that lady, he was on the point of accepting that which was offered by the Dutchess of Mazarin, who had retired with St. Evremond to England. But how is it possible to name Madame de la Sabliere without blessing the memory of that excellent friend of La Fontaine, who appeared to consider it not merely as a pleasure but a duty, to banish from him every care and to supply all his wants. Admirable woman! It was beneath your roof that he composed his best works; and posterity will join your name to his. Qu'un ami véritable est une douce chose! Il cherche vos besoins au fond de votre cœur. I feel a pleasure in the idea that La Fontaine, when he wrote these lines, thought of Madame de la Sabliere; and they, with the verses which follow, evidently prove, that this man, who was so indifferent abou generality of things which torment the of mankind, was alive to the sentiment friendship. It may be said that poetry creature of the imagination: but surely is poetry which is the offspring of the s This is a truth which the writings of Fontaine fully prove to me; and if they not sufficient, I shall repeat a well-ke circumstance, that forms the highest eulo which two friends ever bestowed on other. Soon after the death of Madan Sabliere, M. d'Hervart met La Fontain the street: "I was on my way", sa former," to intreat you to take up abode at my house."-" I was going thith said the latter. But we must not forget to name amon benefactors, the generous, unfortunate, quet, who was indeed a man of a noble and deserved to be beloved: nor can we unnoticed the signal gratitude of the which will perhaps be considered as mor than the generosity of a minister. A same time, many men of letters mig named, both in the past and the presen whose attachment for their friends and tectors has resisted the most powerful m to desert them; and who, occupied wit pursuits of literary fame, have scorned base themselves by yielding to the allurer of interest or anibition. At the distr period, when Fouquet saw himself doned by the crowd of his dependants, it appeared to be a disgrace even to known him, two men of letters emp their talents in his defence. Pelisson his eloquent pleadings; and La Fontain affecting elegy in which he demands p for Fouquet, and dares to tell the that he ought to grant it. Some degr courage was assuredly necessary, public contradict the opinion and oppose the of Louis XIV. But I am fully pers that La Fontaine, when he made his e did not feel that he was manifesting his rage when he was performing that a gratitude. P It was subsequent to the disgrace of quet, that he became groom of the chai to that princess whom eloquence and have combined to celebrate,-Henriett England, whose death filled France lamentation, and still continues to call the strongest emotions in the Oration of suet. If La Fontaine, like other men, encouraged the dreams of ambition, the of his royal mistress soon dissipated th and I am not disposed to think that they regretted by him. It was at this epoch his life, that he resigned himself to the of a beneficent friendship, which, to a of his character, was far superior to fork As far as it is possible for us to form a agent of happiness, which deceives our nance, when Madame de Mazarin invited him to England. He was, without doubt, highly flattered by those offers; but we acknowledge our obligations to the Duke de Bourgogne, that, in the reign of Louis XIV, England was not allowed to provide for La Fontaine. With respect to the Sex, he always manifested the utmost regard to them, as he always practised the most attentive complaisance towards women, and though, in his writings, he has frequently exercised his pleasantry on them, in his conversation with them, he never failed to observe the most cautious and delicate behaviour. His manners were those of the purest mind, and appeared to be governed by a rigid sense of decorum. It appears in many parts of his Fontaine was one of the small number works that he had experienced both the pleamiters who derived more happiness from sures and the pains of love; but the natural talents than from their success. With-sweetness and calm temperature of his dispobeing insensible to the desire of fame, he sition was not disturbed by them. No kind not devote himself to the attainment of it. of excess was to be found in the character of obtained the suffrages of the Academy La Fontaine. reference to Boileau, who was favoured One circumstance alone seemed at any time the notice of Louis XIV. before him. to interrupt his tranquillity, and this exceprity, however, in its distribution of rank, tion was most honourable to him; it was as to have adopted the opinion of the when any one came to ask his counsel or to ley rather than that of the mo- beg his assistance in the hour of misfortune; h. Passing his days in the bosom of he would then take the most tender interest dship; with a raind formed to feel the in their concerns; nor would he refrain from ht of receiving benefits without bearing tears, while he listened to the tale of sorrow. weight of them; free from inquietude, This man so inattentive to his own affairs, untroubled by ambition or lassitude; in- would manifest uncommon sagacity in disle of envy or any degrading passion, he embarrassing the concerns of another. It ted in contemplating nature and repre- was the unfortunate only to whom he gave a g her with his poetic pencil; he revelled right to trouble his repose; and he never emis own ideas and sentiments and height-ployed the spirit of discretion but for the inthe pleasure by diffusing them in the terest of others. : in short, he was well with himself, had but little occasion to apply to others; while his years run on, almost unperd by him, old age at length arrived, like vening of a fine day. tere appears throughout his works a semind and a contented spirit. He him lays Though he was disposed to be indolent, he neglected not any branches of science, though not naturally associated to his peculiar talents. He studied with his friend Bernier the principles of Descartes and Gassendi, and the well known question respecting the mechanism of the brute creation, is very ingeniously discussed in one of his fables, addressed to Madame de la Sabliere. He oc aucoup de plaisirs, je mêle un peu de gloire. is epitaph is well known, and is that of mest man; but who would suppose it that of a poet? He divides his life The disease with which he was attacked two parts, sleeping, and doing of no- two years before his death produced an entire dormir et ne rien faire. So that his revolution in his mind; and he who, through> were nothing more to him than pleas-out his life, appeared to have been conscious rams. What a happy man he must of no crime, delivered himself up to an exho in composing such beautiful things, piating austerity. ht he was passing his life in doing no cupied himself, it is true, with works of imagination; but he was not inattentive to the philosophy of the age in which he lived. though since his death, his reputation increased in the opinion of mankind, joyed during his life the admiration of Certain English gentlemen ofto secure to him an handsome mainte From this time he suffered a continual state of languor; and he died offering up to God the sacrifice of a humble, resigned and repentant heart. His remains were consigned to the same sepulchre, in which Moliere had been entombed, as if the same desL 2 |