give way to fecond ones; and if phyfical caufes poffeffed all the influence which he feems to afcribe them, the different empires of the world would be eternal as the world itself.

From univerfal hiftory we learn, that power, traverfing the world at large, has alternately fettled in countries where, from their oppofite cli. mates, firength and imbecility were contrafted.

No nation was once fo mighty as Greece; and no nation is now fo pufillanimous. If, at the fame time, we draw a comp fon of ancient and modern Rome, we shall find the latter as weak as the former was powerful; yet the influence of the climate is as great there at prefent, as it was in the time of the republic.

Heat certainly enervates the body, and, while it enfeebles mankind, prepares them for flavery. Cold, on the contrary, renders them flout and vigorous, and confequently pre-difpofes Them to liberty. Hence it is that, in all ages, the inhabitants of the North have fcorned to bow to the yoke of fouthern nations. But for their manly refiftance, we should have all been ftives.

It

In Afia, where the climate produces the former of the effects here mentioned, the people fupport the weight of fervitude without feeling it feals in, if it may be fo expreffed, through the very laffitude which itfelf creates. The reverfe being the cafe wherever the climate has a tendency to give liberty to man, defpotifm, when once eft blithed in fuch countries, is more grievous than in thofe which lead to fhivery; and for this reafon, that phyfical caufes muft have been made to give way to moral confesa circumflance which never happens but when tyranny is carried to excefs. Thus fituated, a defpotic government is productive of peculiar hardfhips; for wretched indeed mu the nation be that is not allowed to enjoy the advantages to which it is actually entitled by naPure as its inheritance.

Thus it is a fundamental truth in the political world, that when a fate, naturalty free, has once been enflived, it is endlaved in the extreme. Hence it is, that we now fee the Danes possessed

of far lefs liberty than what, from their fituation, phyfically confidered, they might possess •; and that the English, during the ufurpation of Cromwell, were greater flaves than the inhabitants of Algiers. †

It now remains to enquire what effect the arts and Tciences have upon civil government. And here, as a preliminary fact, it must be acknowledged, that the moft enlightened ages have not always been the moft happy. It has even been faid, that in proportion as knowledge encreafes, the mind becomes corrupted. But what ference ought we, in juftice, to form from this general affertion, admitting it to be true? Not, furely, that knowledge is a thing in ittelf bad; but that there is nothing upon earth good that can remain long exempted from the abuse of

mau.

Though the sciences are so far from being of neceflity the parents of power and felicity, that a mediocrity of both talents and fortune is found to be more calculated to render men happy than an abundance of either wealth or knowledge; yet, in the political world, a revolution has happened which renders, at leaf, a relative advancement in the ftudy of them requifite.

From the time that politics became reduced into a complex (yftem ; from the time that light fucceeded to darknefs; that the nature and ends of government began to be understood; that the gaining of battles no longer depended on frength and courage, but on the art of fighting; from that time ikill and knowledge became the engines of power, and governed alt its principles. So ftrictly true are thefe pofitions, that if we examine the prefent fate of Europe, we fhall not find the nations that have formed the grandeft fettlements, to be those which are either the ftrongest or the moft populous, but those in which the arts and sciences have chiefly Rourished. Before

See The State of Denmark before the Revolution.

t See The Life of Cromwell,

Before men were united in fociety, intelligence was not necessary for them. As mere exiftence was their only object, inftin&t was fufficient. Afterwards, however, new fprings of action arofe; plans of legiflation were fettled; different claffes were created; different orders were formed; different powers were established. In order to preferve a general equilibrium, an additional weight was given to fome, at the expence of others. Every attention was neceffary to the maintenance of civil and political order, and to the prefervation of the public fafety. Thefe various objects required,not only minds enlightened and improved, but (foto express it) a general affortment of knowledge.

In a word, that union, which, while it diffufes a harmony throughout the body politic, ferves to connect all its parts, is a fyftem highly complicated; and barbarous is every government reputed to which it is unknown. Befide, as Europe forms, as it were, one grand republic, of which the different Rates are the members, certain governments were not per

mitted to remain under the cloud of ignorance, while others had dispelled it, and become enlightened. And here, as an occafional remark, it may be added, that to an inequality in the progrefs of national knowledge, is to be afcribed the origin of moft of the wars with which the European world has hitherto been harraffed, and is likely to be harraffed ftill.

We have, it must be confeffed, seen more than one enlightened nation plunged headlong... plunged, it would almoft feem, too, voluntarily...from an height of profperity into an abyfs of milery. But whence originated this woeful reverfe? It originated, generally, from the guilty ambition or avarice of a few artful minions, in. vefted with authority--- minions, who educated themselves in the schools of venality and corruption, imagined that no fyftem of government could Bourish which had not venality and corruption for its bafis.

All fuch mifery, however, is but as the effect of a momentary darknefs, which a returning day is fure to difpel; and experience fhews, that

though the paffions, with their attendant vices, may through a temporary cloud over the profpects of an intelligent people, yet, fpurred on by neceffity, reafon and juftice, fooner or later, are fure to refume their influence, and to re affert their rights alike over the rulers and the ruled; in other words, to triumph over the former, as the authors of paft oppreffons, and to guard the latter againft the repetition of fimilar ones. Far different is it with nations immersed in ignorance. A&tually barbarous ftill, without fome extraordinary intervention, barbarous they must remain; and wretched, as well as barbarous, muft their poflerity be alfo.

Other remarks might here be added. But it is not always proper to exhauft a fubject; and, at any rate, the prefent paper feems to be already extended to a length more than fufficient, perhaps, for the valuable repofitory in which it is the wifh of the author to fee it have a place.

E. M.

Story of Venoni and Louifa.

(From the MIRROR.) (Continued from Page 565.) HE virtue of Louifa was vanvirtue

was not overcome. Neither the vows of eternal fidelity of her feducer, nor the conftant and refpe&ful attention which he paid her during a hurried journey to England, could allay that anguifh which the fuffered at the recollection of her paft, and the thoughts of her prefent fituation. Sir Edward felt ftrongly the power of her beauty and of her grief. His heart was not made for that part which, it is probable, he thought it could have performed: it was ftill fubject to remorse, to compaffion, and to love. Thefe emotions, perhaps, he might foon have overcome, had they been met by vulgar violence or reproaches; but the quiet and unupbraiding forrows of Louifa nourished thofe feelings of tenderness and attachment. She never mentioned her wrongs in words: fometimes a few farting tears would fpeak them; and when time had given her a little

more

more compofure, her lute difcourfed melancholy music.

On their arrival in England, Sir Edward carried Louifa to his feat in the country. There she was treated with all the obfervance of a wife; and had the chofen it, might have commanded more than the ordinary fplendor of one. But he would not allow the indulgence of Sir Edward to blazon with equipage, and how that fate which the withed always to hide, and, if poffible. to forget. Her books and her mufic were her only pleafures, if pleasures they could be called, that ferved but to alleviate mifery, and to blunt, for a while, the pangs of contrition.

There were deeply aggravated by the recollection of her father: a father left in his age to feel his own misfortunes and his daughter's difgrace. Sir Edward was two generous not to think of providing for Venoni. He meant to make fome atonement for the injury he had done him, by that cruel bounty, which is reparation only to the base, but to the honeft is infult. He had not, however, an opportunity of accomplishing his purpose. He learned that Venoni, foon after his daughter's elopement, removed from his former place of refidence, and, as his neighbours reported, had died in one of the villages of Savoy. His daughter felt this with angu fh the moft poignant, and her affliction, for a while, refufed confolation. Sir Edward's whole tenderness and attention were called forth to mitigate her grief; and, after its fir transports had fubfided, he carried her to London, in hopes that objects new to her, and commonly attractive to all,might contribute to remove it.

With a man poffeffed of feelings like Sir Edward's, the affliction of Louifa gave a certain refpect to his attenti

ons.

He hired her a houfe feperate from his own, and treated her with all the delicacy of the pureft attach ment. But his folicitude to comfort and amuse her was not attendea with fuccefs. She felt all the horrors of that guilt which the now confidered, as not only the ruin of herself, but the murderer of her father.

In London Sir Edward found his fifter, who had married a man of great

fortune and high fathisa. He had married her, becaufe the was a fine wo man, and admired by fine men ; the had mared him, because he was the wealthieft of her fultors. They lived as is common to people in fuch a fituation, neceffitous with a princely revenue, and very wretched amida perpetual gaiety. This frene was to foreign from the idea Sr Edward had formed of the reception his country and friends were to afford him, that he found a conftant fource of difguft in the fociety of his equals. In their converfation fantafi'ck, not refined, their ideas were frivolous, and their knowledge fhallow; and with all the pride of birth, and infolence of flation, their principles were mean, and their minds ignoble. Ia their pretended attachments, he dif covered only defigns of felfthaels; and their pleafures he experienced, were as fallacious as their friendships. In the fociety of Louifa he found fenfibility and truth; hers was the only heart that feemed interefled in his welfare; the faw the return of virtue in Sir Edward, and felt the friendship which he fhewed her. Sometimes, when the perceived him forrowful, her lute would leave its melancholy for more lively airs, and her countenance affume a gaiety it was not formed to wear. But her heart was breaking with that anguifh which her generofity endeavoured to conceal from him; her frame,too delicate for the firuggle with her feelings, feemed to yield to their force; her reft forfook her; the colour faded in her cheek, the luftre of her eyes grew dim. Sir Edward faw there fymptoms of decay with the deepeft remorte. Often did he curfe thofe falfe ideas of pleafure which had led him to confider the ruin of an artless girl, who loved and truffed him, as an object which it was luxury to attain, and pride to accomplish. Often did he wish to blat out from his life a few guilty montas, to be again restored to an opportunity of giving happiness to that family, whole unexpeßing kindue's he hit repaid with the treachery of a robber, and the cruelty of an affaffin.

One evening, while he fat in a little parlour with Louifa, his mind alternately agitated and foftened with this impreffion,

impreffion, a hand-organ, of a remarkably (weet tone, was heard in the freet, Louifa laid afide her lute, and Liftened the airs it played were those of her native country; and a few tears, which the endeavoured to hide, fole from her on hearing them. Sir Edward ordered a fervant to fetch the orgauift into the room, he was brought in accordingly, and feated at the door of the apartment.

He played one or two fprightly tunes, to which Louifa had often danced in her infancy; she gave herfelf up to the recollection, and her tears flowed without controu!. Suddenly the musician, changing the ftop, introduced a little melancholy air of a wild and plaintive kind. Louifa

flarted from her feat, and rushed up to the Aranger. He threw off a tattered coat, and black patch. It was her father!She would have fprung to embrace him; he turned afide for a few moments, and would not receive her into his arms. But nature at laft overcame his refentment; he burft into tears, and preffed to his bofom his long loft daughter.

Sir Edward flood fixed in aftonishment and confufion." I come not to upbraid you," faid Venoni; "I am a poor, werk, old man, unable for upbraidings; I am come but to find my child, to forgive her, and to die! When you faw us fift, Sir Edward, we were not thus. You found us virtuous and happy; we danced and we fung, and there was not a fad heart in the valley where we dwelt. Yet we left our dancing, our fongs, and our cheerfulness; you were distressed and we pitied you. Since that day the pipe has never been heard in Venoni's fields; grief and fickness have almoft brought him to the grave; and his neighbours, who loved and pitied him, have been cheerful no more. Yet, methinks, though you robbed us of happiuefs, you are not happy elfe why that dejected look, which, amidft all the grandeur around you, I faw you wear, and thofe tears which, under ali the gaudinefs of her apparel, I faw that poor deluded girl shed ?"..." But the fhall fhed no more," cried Sir Ed“ward; you shall be happy and I shall

be juft. Forgive my venerable friend, the injuries which I have done thee; forgive me, my Louifa, for rating your excellence at a price fo mean. I have feen thofe high-born females to which my rank might have allied me; I am ashamed of their vices, and fick of their follies. Profligate in. their hearts, amidst affected purity they are flaves to pleasure, without the fincerity of paffion; and with the name of honour, are infenfible to the feelings of virtue. You, my Louifa!--but I will not call up recollections that might render me lefs worthy of your future efteem Continue to love your Edward; but a few hours, and you shall add the title to the affections of a wife; let the care and tenderness of a husband bring back its peace to your mind, and its bloom to your cheek.. We will leave for a while the wonder and the envy of the fashionable circle here. We will reftore your father to his native home; under that roof I fhail once more he happy; happy without allay, because I fhall deferve my happiness. Again fhall the pipe and the dance gladden the valley, and innocence and peace beam on the cottage of Venoni!"

An Ejay on the Management of Bees.

IT

(Continued from Page 562.)

Of the Wax and Combs.

T is believed that the combs are formed from a powder, collected from the ftamina of flowers; which alfo ferves them for a part of their food. The bees collect it into Hittle balls, with which they load their legs. Before this crude wax, or fari. na, is used for building combs, it is digefted in the body of the bee, and this brings it to a proper confiftency for their purpofe.

This farina is alfo called bee bread; and that the bees feed upon it, we need only obferve that large quantities are collected and laid up, in every hive, where wax is not wanted. The fubftance is digefted in the body of the bee, before it becomes wax;

and

and in proof of this affertion, we know that new combs, before they are filled with honey, or young brood, are of a clear white colour, whereas the farina, or crude wax, is of various colours, according to the flowers from whence it is brought.

The manner in which thefe little infects conftruct their combs, is worthy oblervation. By the hexagonal form of the cells, they lofe no rum as the circumference of one, makes a part of the circumference of another; which, was it contrived in any other fhape, there could not he fo many cells, of equal capaciousness, in the fame given fpice. These cells, which are very thin, are frengthened at the entrance by a fillet of wax, and alfo at the bottom by the angle of one admirable falling in the middle of its opposite.

There are different forts of combs in every hive, made according to the fpecies of bees which are to be bred in them. In those combs conftructed for breeding the drones, the cells are confiderably larger than those which are intended for the working bees; and thofe cells which are made for breeding the females cr queens, are of a very peculiar form, and fathioned with a deal of labour.

over with wax, in order to stop every crevice, before the bees were put in, it would greatly forward their works. Of the Honey.

BEES collect moft of their honey, as well as wax, from flowers; a part is alfo got from what is commonly called honey-dews. This honey-dew that is found on the leaves of trees, is nothing more than a fweet juice which exudes from the leaves. If this juice fell, as it is vulgarly fuppofed, from the open air, it would then cover the leaves of any tree in its way, promifcuoufly, which never happens; we fee it only on part of the leaves of fome particular trees, and never but on one fide. As honey-dews never happen but in very hot fultry wea ther, heat therefore, in all probability, is the cause of them.

The goodnels of honey entirely depends on the fituation in which the bees are placed; great quantities may be collected from commons of heath, or fields of buck wheat; but what is got in thefe ftuations is always of a very deep colour, and not well flavoured. The beft and fineft co. loured honey is collected from flowers. The mignonettes produce the most

in this country, and in the greatest quantity; their flowers continuing in bloom all the fummer and

There is another kind of wax which bees collect, called propolis. This is a fort of refin, not gathered as wax is, from the flamina of flowers, but from the kind, and the leaves of trees, fhrubs, &c. Its colour is of a reddish brown, and becomes harder than wax. The bees ufe it to clofe every crevice in their hives, and to fen the hives, or boxes, to the board they reft on. In regard to this particular, fmooth boxes or hives made of wood, are greatly to he preferred to ftraw hives; the boxes fave the bees au immenfe deal of la bour which the raw hives require; as they fmooth the whole infide of them with propolis. And was the infide of the boxes themfelves rubbed

autumn.

In the year 1779, I made the following experiment: obferving bees to be particularly fond of the flowers of mignonette, I therefore planted a large quantity of it before two hives, at a confiderable diftance from any other bees. Having plenty of this provision fo near them, very few ever jeft the garden; and thefe probably for water, which bees often have recourfe to, in dry weather. In September, the fame year, I took the ho ney, and found a greater produce, by one third and upwards, than from

one

*The oak is the principal tree which produces the honey dew in any quantity; it is often found on the maple, fycamore, hazel, and bramble, and alfo on hop plants.