ceffes carried on by pen and paper can alone obviate. His eftimates of xpence have generally proved wide of reality; and he feems to have been better qualified to be the contriver, than the manager, of a great defign. His moral qualities were, however, highly refpectable. He was far a bove envy and jealousy, and freely communicated his improvements to perfons capable of receiving and executing them taking a liberal fatis faction in forming a new generation of engineers able to proceed with the great plans in the fuccefs of which he was fo deeply interested. His integrity and regard to the advantage of his employers were unimpeachable. In fine, the name of Brindley will ever keep a place among that small number of mankind who form eras in the art or fcience to which they devote themselves, by a large and durable extenfion of their limits.” THE PICTURE OF THE HOUSE OF A RICH MAN. From Godavin's Enquirer. HE houfe is inhabited by two claffes of beings, or, more accurately speaking, by two fets of men drawn from two distant ftages of bar. barifm and refinement. The rich man himself, we will fuppofe, with the members of his family, are per fons accomplished with elegance, tafte, and a variety of useful and agreeable information. The fervants below stairs, can fome of them perhaps read without fpelling, and fome even write a legible hand. But knowledge, to their eyes, her ample page, Rich with the fpoils of time, did ne'er unrol. Gray. Their ignorance is thick and grofs. Their mistakes are of the most palpable fort. So far as relates to any fpecies of intellectual improvement, they might as well have been born in Otaheite. But this disturbs not the tranquillity of their masters. They pafs them with as little confcioufnefs of true equality, and as little feufe of unrestrained fympathy, as they pals the mandarins upon their chimneypieces. The fortune of the rich man is expended between two different claffes of beings, the inmates of the fame manfion. The first class confifts of the members of the family, the fecond of the fervants. The indivi duals of the first clafs have each a purfe well furnished. There is scarce. ly a luxury in which they are not at liberty to indulge. There is fcarely a caprice which croffes their fancy, that they cannot gratify. They are attired with every thing that fashion or tafte can preferibe, and all in its finest texture and its newest glofs. They are incensed with the most coftly perfumes. They are enabled to call into play every expedient that can contribute to health, the freshnefs of their complexion, and the fleekness of their skin. They are mafters of their time, can pass from one voluntary labour to another, and refort, as their fancy prompts, to every fplendid and coftly amusement. The wealth of the fervant amounts perhaps to ten or fifteen pounds a year; and it is not unfrequent to hear perfons of ten or fifteen thousand a year exclaim upon the enormousness of wages. With this he is to purchafe many articles of his apparel, coarfe in their texture, or already tarnished, the ape of finery and wealth. His utmost economy is neceffary, to provide himself with these. He can fcarcely obtain for himself an occafional amufement, or, if he were fmitten with the defire of knowledge, the means of inftruction. If he be put upon board-wages, his first en quiry is at how humble a price he can procure a fordid meal. The purchase of his meals for a whole week would not furnish out the most infignificant difh for his mafter's table. This monstrous affociation and union of wealth and poverty together, is one of the moft aftonishing exhibi. tions that the human imagination can figure to itself. It is voluntary how, ever, at least on the part of the mafter. If it were compulforily impofed upon him, there is no chearfulness and gaiety of mind, that could ftand up against the melancholy fcene. It would be a revival of the barbarity of Mezentius, the linking a living body and a dead one together. It would cure the most obdurate heart of its partiality for the diftinction of ranks in fociety. But, as it is, and as the human mind is conftituted, there is nothing, however monftrous, however intolerable to fober and impartial reason, to which custom does not render us callous. PORTRAIT OF A SOLDIER. From the Same. A Soldier, who will never fight but immenfe heap of calamities, and the in a cause that he shall confcientiously and fcrupulously adjudge to be good, can scarcely be a foldier by profeffion. But, to difmifs this confideration, it is no enviable circumftance that a man should be deftined to maintain the good caufe by blows and fighting. In this refpect, affuming the propriety of corporal punishments, he is upon a par with the beadle and the executioner. To employ murder as the means of juftice, is an idea that a man of enlightened mind will not dwell upon with pleafure. To march forth in rank and file, with all the pomp of streamers and trumpets, for the purpose of shooting at our fellowmen as at a mark, to inflict upon them all the variety of wounds and anguish, to leave them weltering in their blood, to wander over the field of defolation, and count the number of the dying and the dead, are employments which in thefis we may maintain to be neceffary, but which no good man will contemplate with gratulation and delight. A battle, we will fuppofe, is won. Thus truth is established; thus the cause of justice is confirmed! It furely requires no common fagacity, to difcern the connection between this affertion of truth, or the maintenance of justice. It is worfe where the foldier hires himself, not for the fervice of any portion or diftribution of mankind, but for the mere purpofe of fighting. He leaves it to his employer and his king to determine the justice of the caufe; his bufinefs is to obey. He has no duty but that of murder; and this duty he is careful amply to dif charge. This he regards as the means of his fubfiftence, or as the path that leads to an illustrious name. A foldier, upon every fuppofition, must learn ferocity. When he would affert the caufe of truth, he thinks not of arguments, but of blows. His mind is familiarifed to the most dreadful spectacles. He is totally ignorant of the principles of human nature; and is ridiculous enough to fuppofe that a man can be in the right, who is attempted to be made fo through the medium of compulfion. But, though it could be imagined that coercion was the means of making men wife and good, this affumption, large as it is, would not ferve to establish the morality of war. War frikes not at the offender, but the innocent. Quicquia F this Gentleman, who, while he lived, promoted in a very eminent degree the entertainment of his friends, it may be faid, in the words of Shakespeare: Olived, promoted a very -a merrier man, Within the limits of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal; His eye begets occafion for his wit; And every object that the one doth catch, The other turns to a mirth-moving jeft. He was born about the year 1731, and was the fon of Mr Francis Grofe, of Richmond, Jeweller, who filled up the coronation crown of George the Second, and died 1769. By his father he was left an independent for. tune, which he was not of a difpofi tion to add to, or even to preserve. He early entered into the Surry Militia, of which he became Adjutant and Paymaster; but fo much had diffipation taken poffeffion of him, that in a fituation which above all others required attention, he was fo carelefs as to have for fome time (as he ufed pleasantly to tell) only two books of accounts, viz. his right and left hand pockets. In the one he received, and from the other paid; and this too with a want of circumfpection which may be readily fuppofed from fuch a mode of book-keeping. His loffes on this occafion roufed his latent talents: with a good claffical education he united a fine talte for drawing; and encouraged by his friends, as well as prompted by his fituation, he undertook the work from which he derived both profit and reputation; we mean, his Views of Antiquities in England and Wales, which he first began to publish in numbers in the year 1773, and finished in the year 1776. The next year he added two more volumes to his English Views, in which he included the Iflands of Guernsey and Jersey, which were completed in 1787. This work answered his moft fanguine expections; and, from the time he began it to the end of his life, he continued without intermiffion to publish various works (a lift of which we fubjoin,) generally to the advantage of his literary reputation, and almost always to the benefit of his finances. His wit and good-humour were the abundant fource of fatisfaction to him. felf and entertainment to his friends. He vifited almost every part of the kingdom, and was well received *When doating Monarchs urge Unfound Refolves, their Subjects feel the Scourge. wherever Francis. Some objection may be made to this application of the term natural. Can the North American favage be denied to be a child of Nature? Yet is he not pre-em Bently diftinguished by thofe qualities, and deformed by thofe habits, which are here alledged to conftitute the foldier an unnatural being? In the year 1773, his friend Mr Davies, of Wandfworth, speaks of him as then 42 years old. See the Sketch prefixed to the Olio. 8vo. 1793 of 1789 he fet out on a tour in Scotland; the refult of which he began to communicate to the public in 1790, in numbers. Before he had conclud ed this work, he proceeded to Ireland, intending to furnish that kingdom with views and defcriptions of her Antiquities, in the fame manner he had executed thofe of Great Britain; but foon after his arrival in Dublin, being at the houfe of Mr Hone there, he fuddenly was feized at table with an apoplectic fit, on the 6th May 1791, and died immediately. He was interred in Dublin. wherever he went. In the fummer with the cauftic fpirit fo prevalent a mong spirits of that clafe. His humour was of that nature which exhilarates and enlivens, without leaving behind it a fting; and though perhaps none poffeffed more than himfelf the faculty of fetting the table in a roar,' it was never at the expence of virtue or good manners. Of the most carelefs, open, and artless difpofition, he was often (particularly in the early part of his life) the prey of the defigning; and has more than once (it is believed) embarraffed himfelf by too implicit confidence in the probity of others. A tale of diftrefs never failed to draw commiferation from his heart; and often has the tear been discovered gliding down that cheek which a moment before was flushed with jocularity." "His literary hiftory," fays a friend, "refpectable as it is, was exceeded by his good-humour, conviviality, and friendship. Living much abroad, and in the best company at home, he had the easiest habits of adapting himself to all tempers; and, being a man of general knowledge, perpetually drew out fome converfation that was either useful to himself, or agreeable to the party. He could obferve upon moft things with precifion and judgment; but his natural tendency was to humour, in which he excelled both by the felection of anecdotes and his manner of telling them it may be faid too, that his figure rather affifted him, which was in fact the very title page to a joke. He had neither the pride nor malignity of authorship: he felt the independency of his own talents, and was fatisfied with them, without degrading others. His friendships were of the fame caft; conftant and fincere, overlooking fome faults, and feeking out greater virtues. He had a good heart; and, abating thofe little indifcretions natural to most men, could do no wrong." He married at Canterbury, and refided there fome years, much beloved and refpected for his wit and vivacity; "which," another friend obferves, "though he poffeffed in an extreme degree, was but little tinctured He was father of Daniel Grofe, Efq. Captain of the Royal Regiment of Artillery (who, atter feveral campaigns in America, was appointed in 1790 Deputy Governor of the New Settlement at Botany Bay) and fome other children. His works are as follow: (1.) The Antiquities of England and Wales, 8 vols. 4to. and 8vo. (2.) The Antiquities of Scotland, 2 vols. 4to. and 8vo. (3.) The Antiquities of Ireland, 2 vols. 4to. and 8vo. (4.) A Treatife on ancient Armour and Weapons, 4to. 1785. (5.) A Claffical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, 8vo. 1785. (6.) Military Antiquities; being a History of the English Army from the Conqueft to the prefent Time, vols. 4to. 1786, 1788. (7.) The History of Dover Castle, by the Rev. William Danell, 4to. 1786. (8.) A Provincial Gloffary, with a Collection of local Proverbs and popular Superftitions, 8vo. 1788. (9.) Rules for drawing Caricatures, 8vo. 1788. (10.) Supplement to the Treatife on on ancient Armour and Weapons, 4ta. 1789. (11.) A Guide to Health, Beau ty, Honour, and Riches; being a a collection of humourous Advertise THIS ments, pointing out the Means to obtain those bleffings; with a fuitable intruductory Preface, 8vo.. (12.) The Olio; being a Collection of Effays in 8vo. 1793. LIFE OF CHARLES BONNET, OF GENEVA, From the Monthly Magazine. celebrated philofopher was born at Geneva, on the 13th day of March, in the year 1720. His ancestors, who were compelled to emigrate from France, in the year 1572, after the dreadful flaughter of St Bartholomew's day, established themselves at Geneva. His grand father was advanced to the magiftra cy, in that city, and he adorned an eminent ftation. His father, who preferred the station of a private citizen, paid unremitted attention to the education of his fon. M. Bonnet recompenced, at a very early period, his father's affiduity, by the amiablenefs of his difpofition, and the rapid progrefs he made in general literature. When he was about 16 years of age, he applied himself, with great eagerness, to the perufal of Le Spectacle de la Nature, and this work made fuch a deep imprefion on his mind, that it may be faid to have directed the tafte and the ftudies of his future life. What that publication had commenced, was confirmed by the work of La Pluche; but having accidentally feen the treatife of Reau mur upon infects, he was in a tranSport of joy. He was very impatient to procure the book, but, as the only copy in Geneva belonged to a public library, and as the librarian was reluctant to entrust it in the hands of a youth, it was with the utmoft difficulty that he could obtain bis end. By the poffeffion of this treasure, our affiduous youth was enabled to make several new and curious expe riments, which he communicated to * Reaumur himself; and the high applause he gained, from fo great a naturalift, added fresh vigour to his af fiduity. In compliance with his father's defires, he applied himself, though with much reluctance, to the ftudy of the law. The works of Burlamaqui pleafed him the most, on account of the perfpicuous and philofophic manner in which the subject was treated; the inftitutes of Heineccius gave him fome courage alfo, as he perceived order and connection; but the Roman Law terrified him as the Hydra of Lerna. Notwithstanding his application to thefe authors, he ftill continued attached to natural history, and was very active in making experiments. The experiments which demonstrate that tree-lice propogate without copulation, was communicated by Reaumur to the Academy of Sciences, and this circumftance occafioned an epiftolary correfpondence between M. Bonnet and that great naturalist. This was, doubtlefs, very flattering to a youth of twenty years. The letter of Reaumur was accompanied with a prefent of that very book which he had borrowed, with fo much difficulty, two years before. Animated by fuch diftinguished marks of approbation, he diligently employed every moment he could fteal from the ftudy of jurifprudence to the completion of his natural history of the tree-loufe; to experiments on the refpiration of catterpillars and butterflies, which he difcovered to be effected by fligmata, or lateral pores; to an examination of |