that was not true. So much more attentive have they been to the collection of anecdotes than to the duties of biography, that a life of this great and good man, written according to the genuine principles of biography, is yet a defideratum; and his numerous biographers (I am obliged to use this word for want of a worfe) have hitherto contented themfelves with what he faid and did, without ever entering on the merits of what he wrote, on which, after all, his fame muft ultimately depend. The admirers of the Rambler, the Idler, the Lives of the Poets, &c. will not be very anxious to know whether the author wore a grey wig or a black one; and future fcholars will profit by the labours of our great lexicographer, without being informed how often he took phyfic during the compofition of them."

But the question is, Are we, when we write a man's life, to tell all that we know of hm? With fubmiffion to the biographers already noticed, I may venture to say that the proper anfwer to this queftion will be given in the negative. We ought not tell all that we know, because much of it may not be worth telling, and becaufe fome of it, if divulged to the world, may injure the memory of the dead, and the happinefs of the living. That, for inftance, which is imparted to us in confidence, ought not to be told, for why should we think that death can annul the facred confidence of private converfation? Why-fhould we think that because a mad is dead, and out of the reach of refentment, we ought to divulge his private thoughts to the injury of his furvivors. What, then, it will be faid, are we to record? The answer to this is very eafy and obvious. We are to record all that will be useful to embellifh, and faithfully pourtray the character, and no more.. Secret memoirs, little paltry failings and imperfections, common to all men, and therefore not worthy of notice as pertaining to men of genius, are like the filth and duft

5

which collect, or may be thrown by envious hands on a fplendid monument. The fculptor would rub away fuch defilement, but he would have too much respect to his own fame, as well as to that of the deceafed, to add to it; far lefs wou'd he, if in hi fenfes, be the caufe of its appearing there. If, however, the fubject of a biographical memoir, was diftinguished for fome great crime, or vice; thofe ought neither to be concealed nor palliated. It is a facred duty to record thefe with as much fidelity and abhorrence, as if he who committed them were of the lowest rank of criminals. It would be abfurd to give a life of Eugene Aram, and to conceal that he was executed for committing a murder. But what connexion is there between the exercife of this fo neceffary a duty, and the extreme anxiety to record that a man, who was near-fighted, eat fish with his fingers? All that is ufeful, conducive to any moral purpose, or that contributes to the fund of literature and criticifm, ought no doubt to be recorded; but all converfations which originated in impertinence, and were carried on in fpleen, and which may many years after create animofities, without doing any poffible good, ought to be concealed. If men's Fighteft words and moft trivial actions are to be watched; if the ready tablet, and the ambushed pen are in waiting to ftab the foul of confidence, and mutual friendship,' who can be fafe? I have borrowed this expreffion from an anonymous author, whofe opinion on this fubject fo fully coincides with my own that I cannot refift making a farther extract. may be of ufe,' fays he, to remark, that it is a common mistake with men of fuperior talents to choose those for companions who cannot be competitors, and to fancy they are fafe, becaufe they feel themfelves eafy. They are never fo fafe as among their equals. In the proud competition of genius they may meet indeed with cafual fhocks to their vanity, or their felf

It

love,

love, but they will not meet with those who watch their expreffions, who lie in wait for their frailties, and who receive amends for the constraint they lie under in their prefence, by taking confequence to themselves in other company, from publishing their unguarded fallies, detecting their petty habitudes, or injuring their juft fame, by the exaggerations of injudicious praife.'

In reading thofe excellent pieces of biography which former writers have given us, and of which the greater part may be found in the Biographa Britannica, the rational enquirer is, in moft cafes, completely gratified, although he finds not fuch food as can please only thofe whofe appetites relifh keen fcandal, and who love to grub among the afhes, when they might contemplate the fublime ftructure? Our admiration of Locke is nowife diminished by our ignorance of the fize of his walking tick, or the table liquor he drank; nor are we greatly difappointed, in the life of Newton, by its not being recorded that he collected the rinds of oranges, when he was mafter of the Mint, or wore black stockings when a member of the royal fociety. Men like thefe, and minds congenial with fuch men, will fay, Non magna loquimur, fed vi

vimus.

I have been led to offer you these

6

remarks, Mr. Editor, purely from my regard to the fcience of biography, which I cannot but confider as of too high importance to be trifled with merely to gratify an idle curiofity; and I fhall conclude my letter, with what one of the first biographers of the age fays in favour of his purfuit. Biography may be confidered in two lights. It is very agreeable and ufeful, when it has no other view than merely to relate the circumftances of the lives of eminent men, and to give an account of their writings. But it is capable of a still nobler application. It may be regarded as prefenting us with a variety of events, that, like experiments in natural philofophy, may become the materials from which general truths and principles are to be drawn. When biographical knowledge is employed in enlarging our acquaintance with human nature, in exciting an honourable emulation, in correcting our prejudices, in refining our fentiments, and in regulating our conduct, it then attains its true excellence. Bcfide its being a pleasing amufement, and a juft tribute of refpect to illuftrious characters, it rifes to the dignity of fcience; and of fuch fcience as muft ever be esteemed of peculiar importance, because it has man for its object.' I am, fir, &c.

R. R.

EXPLANATION.

THE method of caufing the bobbin to move backward and forward (which is the improvement here meant to be fhown) is effected by the axis of the great wheel being extended through the pillar next the spinner, and form

F

ed

ed into a pinion of one leaf, A, which takes into a wheel, B, feven inches diameter, having on its periphery ninety-feven teeth; fo that ninetyfeven revolutions of the great wheel caufe one of the leffer wheel. On this lefier wheel is fixed a ring of wire, ccc; which, being fupported on fix legs, lands obliquely to the wheel itself, touching it at one part, and projecting nearly three quarters of an inch at the oppofite one: near the fide of this wheel, is an upright lever, C, about fifteen inches long, moving on a centre, three inches from its lower extremity, and connected at the top to a fliding bar, D; from which rifes an upright piece of brafs,

LOUIS XVI.

DR. Smith, fpeaking of a visit to Veriales,. on Sunday, Augult 6, 1786 (not quite three years before the revolution) fays, The road was crowded with all kinds of carriages, and thofe carriages with Chevaliers de St. Louis. We faw the royal family go to chapel, with young maids of horour painted of a rofe colour, and old ones crimson. We faw the crowd adoring their grand monarque, little thirking how foon that adoration would ceafe. The king's countenance feemed agreeable and benignant, by no means vacant; his ears, which his hair never covered, were remarkably large and ugly, and he walked ill. He had fome very fine diamonds in his hat. The queen received company in her chamber, not having been out of it fuce her lying-in. The king's brothers had nothing ftriking about them.

Defcribing a royal fhooting party, the next day, Dr. Smith relates an incident that does honour to the benevolence of the late unfortunat Louis: After dinner,' fays he, we were entertained with a footing party of the grand monarque in the forett of

▾ A Sketch of a Tour on F. R. S. 3 Vol. 8vo.

St. Germain, about a mile from the town. The marechal attended the

king on horfeback. His majesty arrived about half past three in a coach, and having taken off his coat and blue ribband, appeared in a brown linen drefs, with leather fpatterdalhes. He proceeded on foot, immediately followed by eight pages in blue and white dreffes made like his own. Each of them carried a fowling-piece ready loaded, and as foon as the king had fired off that in his hand, he took another from the page next him. Behind thefe pages followed ten or twelve Swifs guards, with feveral perfons whofe office it was to attend, among others a phyfician and a furgeon, all on horfeback; as was the marechal de Noailles and a few other perfans of rark, most of whom converfcd occafionally with the king. Some of their train followed on foot, as did Brouffonet and myfelf. The greater part of the fpectators were kept at a confiderable diftance, by guards forming a fpacious ring. On the right and left of the king were perfons with dogs, to raife the game of all kinds, which had been previously driven to this fpot as much as poffible. His majcity killed almoft every thing he