ploy his subjects in any mode that could put them in the way of catching the disorder. When Dr. Franklin applied to him to lend his assistance to America, Pray Doctor, (says the veteran) what is the object they mean to attainLiberty, Sire, (replied the philosopher) liberty-that freedom which is the birthright of man.' The King, after a short pause, made this memorable answer : I was born a Prince; I am become a King; and I will not use the power that I possess, to the ruin of my trade. I was born to command-and the peo ple are born to obey.'

OBSERVATIONS.

ON THE VICISSITUDES OF HUMAN LIFE, Exemplified by an Historical Anecdote.

FOR the shortness of human life a variety of comparisons have been suggested; not only by general observers, but by the wisest of men ; yet it would be difficult to find a simile perfectly applicable to the transitions which some characters are destined to undergo.

To behold a good man struggling with ad versity, and, as it were, rising superiour to the poignancy of its shafts, is allowed to exalt the human character to the most dignified situation which it is possible for it to attain. Courage

may enable a man to brave danger; apathy may render him regardless of life; for the heart, which is incapable of attachment, feels not the force of Nature's powerful ties. We, doubtless, are not born all with the same disposition and propensities; the same misfortunes are very differently felt ; and a character destitute of sensibility is no more to be admired for bearing them with composure, than the immoveable rock, which the winds of heaven cannot shake. But when we behold a being born to an elevated station, endowed with feelings of the most lively and susceptible kind, piously submitting to the ordinations of a wise Prov idence, yet supporting the wants of nature by the exertions of his own hand; a kind of enthusiastick admiration seizes us, and we can scarcely find words to express the emotions it inspires.

These observations have been excited by the perusal of the following anecdote in a French work, entitled Letters to the Count de B-----.?

Sir Thomas Moyle, a celebrated architect, having been employed to build a large castle. in the parish of Eastville, had frequently been struck with the superiour language and manners of the master mason who superintended the work. When his mind was not occupied in directions to the labourers, he was always intent upon a book, which Sir Thomas at length contrived to obtain a glance of, and, to his astonishment, discovered it to be Virgil's Æneid,

This discovery confirmed him in the opinion which he had previously formed; and by those little delicate attentions which excite friendly communication, he at length received from the lips of the mason the following extraordinary

account.

Until the age of sixteen I was boarded with a master, whose chief attention was de voted to the improvement of my mind; and during that period I was regularly visited by a gentleman, whose manners were extremely dig nified, every three months. As my understanding expanded, the secrecy which was ob served towards me excited a degree of anxiety in my mind; and I expressed to this gentleman the solicitude I suffered, and begged to be informed whether I was not his son. His con duct to me certainly was not calculated to give rise to this suspicion, for his attentions were always mingled with a degree of respect, which is not likely to influence the manners of a parent towards the being to whom he had given birth. In the strongest terms of assurance he denied being my father; acknowledged that a mystery hung over my head, which very soon would be elucidated to my entire satisfaction; but declined telling me more.

In less than two months I had the pleasure of seeing my only acquaintance return, for I was kept in a perfect state of captivity; yet,” from never having had my liberty, I knew not the gratification which arises from a communi

cation with the world. My heart however bounded with satisfaction, when this kind friend informed me I was to quit my abode, for the purpose of being introduced to a friend of my father's; but that after the interview I was to return. Of the nature of distance I could form no accurate idea; to me it appeared an amazing way; but at length the carriage drove up to a most superb building, and I was con ducted through a suite of apartments furnished in the most elegant style.

After placing a chair for me, in a room magnificently ornamented, my kind conductor took his leave, telling me my father's friend would soon wait upon me, which he did, before I had time to revolve these extraordinary circumstances in my mind. He approached

me with extended arms, and pressed me to his bosom. Mine laboured with sensations language can never describe; but, to give a turn to those emotions evidently depictured on my countenance, he began to ask a variety of questions respecting the cultivation of my mind, with that air of tenderness and anxiety, which proved how deep an interest he took in my concerns. The dress of this stranger was truly magnificent. At the close of our conversation he presented me with a purse, filled with different gold coins, of which I scarcely knew the value; though still sensible they were of no small degree of worth. Upon this distinguished personage's departure my conductor

made his appearance, and taking my reluctant hand, led me to the coach. Our journey was performed without an explanation; and my mind was tortured with a variety of suggestions to which this extraordinary interview had given rise.

A few months after this singular circum-> stance, the friend of my infancy arrived at an: early hour; he brought with him a rich dress, in which I was soon habited, and desired me to ascend a phaeton with six horses, which was waiting at the gate. We drove with a rapidity imagination could scarcely conceive possible, and at length arrived at Bosworth Field, and stopped at the tent of my lamented father, who was no less a personage than Richard the Third ! Behold my son !' said he to the noblemen who surrounded him, at the same time pressing me fondly to his heart; when I in stantly recognized the stranger who had excited such singular emotions at our interview a few months before. 6 Tomorrow, (said he) my. child, I shall fight for my crown and kingdom; if fortune favours the undertaking both will be yours; and if victory crowns my arms, I will openly proclaim you as my adopted heir, though illegitimate son. Should I be vanquished, carefully, I conjure you, conceal the secret of your birth; for you will be sur rounded with a set of implacable enemies, who will drink the last drop of your blood!'