on this noble errand as openly as the minister." What a resource for the royal ennui ! Well might Quesnay exclaim, that "he would as soon dine with the hangman as with the postmaster-general !"

Let us turn to other matters: the king one night was attacked by a fit of indigestion, in the chamber of his mistress, of which madame du Hausset gives the following humorous account.

"In the middle of the night, madame came into my chamber, en chemise, and in a state of distraction: Here! here!' said she, the king is dying.' My alarm may be easily imagined. I put on a petticoat, and found the king in her bed, panting. What was to be done?—it was an indigestion. We threw water upon him, and he came to himself. I made him swallow some Hoffman's drops, and he said to me,' Do not make any noise, but go to Quesnay; say that your mistress is ill; and tell the doctor's servants to say nothing about it.' Quesnay, who lodged close by, came immediately, and was much astonished to see the king in that state. He felt his pulse, and said, The crisis is over, but, if the king were sixty years old, this might have been serious.' He went to seek some drug, and, on his return, set about inundating the king with perfumed water. I forget the name of the medicine that he made him take, but the effect was wonderful. I believe it was the drops of General Lamotte. I called up one of the girls of the wardrobe, to make tea, as if for myself. The king took three cups, put on his robe de chambre and his stockings, and went to his own room, leaning upon the doctor. What a sight it was, to see us all three half naked! Madame put on a robe as soon as possible, and I did the same, and the king changed his clothes behind the curtains, which were very decently closed."

Madame de Pompadour was constantly tormented with the dread of rivals, and of losing the royal favour, and resorted to various contrivances to fix the vagrant and discursive inclinations of the king.

"I had remarked that madame de Pompadour for some days had taken chocolate, à triple vanille et ambré, at her breakfast; and that she ate truffles and celery soup: finding her in a very heated state, I, one day, remonstrated with her about her diet, to which she paid no attention. I then thought it right to speak to her friend, the duchess de Brancas. I had remarked the same thing,' said she, and I will speak to her about it before you. After she was dressed, madame de Brancas, accordingly, told her she was uneasy about her health.

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I have just been talking to her about it,” said the duchess, pointing to me, and she is of my opinion.' Madame de Pompadour seemed a little displeased; at last, she burst into tears. I immediately went out, shut the door, and returned to my place to listen. My dear friend,' said she, to madame de Brancas, I am agitated by the fear of losing the king's heart by ceasing to be attractive to him. Men, you know, set great value on certain things, and I have the misfortune to be of a very cold temperament. I, therefore, determined to adopt a heating diet, in order to remedy this defect, and for two days this elixir has been of great service to me, or, at least, I have thought I felt its good effects.'

A little while after, she said to me, Our master is better pleased with me.This is since I spoke to Quesnay, without, however, telling him all. He told me, that to accomplish my end, I must try to be in good health, to digest well, and, for that purpose, take exercise. I think the doctor is right. I feel quite a different creature. I adore that man, (the king,) I wish so earnestly to be agreeable to him!-But, alas! sometimes he says I am a macreuse (a cold-blooded aquatic bird.) I would give my life to please him.'

The situation of royal mistress, though superior to that of premier under the ancient regime, was far from being a bed of roses. "Madame de Pompadour," says du Hausset, "had many vexations in the midst of all her grandeur. She often received anonymous letters, threatening her with poison or assassination : her greatest fear, however, was that of being supplanted by a rival. I never saw her in a greater agitation than, one evening, on her return from the drawing-room, at Marly. She threw down her cloak and muff, the instant she came in, with an air of ill-humour, and undressed herself in a hurried manner. Having dismissed her other women, she said to me, I think I never saw any body so insolent as madame de Coaslin. I was seated at the same table with her this evening, at a game of brélau, and you cannot imagine what I suffered. The men and women seemed to come in relays to watch us. Madame de Coaslin said, two or three times, looking at me, Va tout, in the most insulting manner. I thought I should have fainted, when she said, in a triumphant tone, I have the brélau of kings. I wish you had seen her courtesy to me on parting.''Did the king,' said I, show her particular attention?' 'You don't know him,' said she; if he were going to lodge her this very night in my apartment, he

would behave coldly to her before people, and would treat me with the utmost kind ness. This is the effect of his education, for he is, by nature, kind-hearted and frank.' Madame de Pompadour's alarms lasted for some month, when she, one day, said to me,' That haughty marchioness has missed her aim; she frightened the king by her grand airs, and was incessantly teasing him for money. Now you, perhaps, may not know that the king would sign an order for forty thousand pounds, without a thought, and would give a hundred out of his little private treasury with the greatest reluctance. Lebel, who likes me better than he would a new mistress in my place, either by chance or design had brought a charming little sultana to the Parc-auxcerfs, who has cooled the king a little towards the haughty Vashti, by giving him occupation.'

Besides his ostensible mistress, the infamous Parc-aux-cerfs, and divers intrigues among the ladies of the court, the king carried on several obscure amours among the good dames of Paris, and the village damsels he encountered in his hunting excursions. The fruits of this miscellaneous intercourse, were a numerous illegitimate offspring, none of whom appear to have obtained much of the royal notice: like all sensualists, the regards of the king were limited to his own gratification; and when that was obtained, neither the ties of gratitude, nor paternity, could excite the smallest sympathy or consideration. Speaking of one of his spurious offspring, madame de Mirepoix said, "Be assured the king cares very little about children; he has enough of them, and he will not be troubled with the mother or the son. See what sort of notice he takes of the count de L, who is so strikingly like him. He never speaks of him, and I am convinced that he will never do any thing for him."

What has most pleased us in this little volume, are various anecdotes of Quesnay, the founder of the French school of economists. He was physician to madame de Pompadour, and, amid the licentious scenes he was surrounded, maintained that purity and singleness of heart, for which he has been celebrated. "He liked," says our fair gossip," to chat with me about the country. I had been bred up there, and he used to set me a talking about the meadows of Normandy and Poitou, the wealth of the farmers, and the modes of culture. He was the best natured man in the world, and the farthest removed from petty intrigue. While the lived at court, he was much more occupied with the best manner of cultivating

land, than with any thing that passed around him. The man whom he esteemed the most, was M. de la Rivière, a counsellor of parliament, who was also intendant of Martinique; he looked upon him as a man of the greatest genius, and thought him the only person fit for the financial department of administration."

We will only add one more anecdote of Quesnay, which is very characteristic. Madame de Pompadour is reproaching the philosopher with his timidity and awkwardness: "You always seem so embarrassed in the king's presence, and yet he is so good-natured." Madame," said he, "I left my native village at the age of forty, and I have very little experience of the world, nor can I accustom myself to its usages without great difficulty. When I am in a room with the king, I say to myself, This is a man who can order my head to be cut off; and that idea embarrasses me." "But do not the king's justice and kindness set you at ease ?”"That is very true in reasoning," said he; "but the sentiment is more prompt, and inspires me with fear before I have time to say to myself all that is calculated to allay it.”

A singular character-the count de St. Germain-was in high consideration at the French court at this period. This mountebank philosopher pretended to have already lived two thousand years, and claimed the power of transmitting the gift of long life. Like other charlatans, the count assumed a theatrical magnificence, and an air of science calculated to deceive the vulgar. His best instruments of deception were the phantasmagoria, and the art he possessed of making artificial dia monds. The following is our author's de scription of this adventurer :

"I have seen him frequently: hè appeared to be about fifty: he was neither fat nor thin: he had an acute, intelligent look, dressed very simply, but in good taste; he wore very fine diamonds in his rings, watch, and snuff-box. He came, one day, to visit madame de Pompadour, at a time when the court was in full splen dour, with knee and shoe buckles of diamonds so fine and brilliant, that madamé said, she did not believe the king had any equal to them. He went into the ante chamber to take them off, and brought them to be examined; they were compared with others in the room, and thé duke de Gontaut, who was present, said, they were worth at least eight thousand pounds. He wore, at the same time, à snuff-box of inestimable value, and ruby sleeve-buttons, which were perfectly dazzling. Nobody could find out by what means this man became so rich and so

remarkable; but the king would not suffer him to be spoken of with ridicule or contempt. He was said to be a bastard son of the king of Portugal."

St. Germain carried on his impostures with great success in London, Venice, and Holland, but he constantly regretted Paris, where his elixir vitæ, and other miracles and nostrums, were never questioned-by the courtiers at least. He spent his latter days at the court of the priuce of Hesse Cassel, and died at Plewig, in 1784, in the midst of his enthusiastic disciples, and to their infinite astonishment at his sharing the common destiny.

MR. M'CULLOCH concluded his preliminary lectures at this institution on Friday evening, to a very numerous auditory, among whom there appeared no abatement, either in zeal or numbers. At the conclusion, Mr. M'Culloch remarked, that as the management of the new undertaking was to be vested in those who were to derive the benefit of it, he entertained no doubt of its success, and that it would tend to render the commercial classes of the metropolis as much distinguished for enlightened and liberal views, as they had long been for integrity and moral worth.

Mr. John Smith, M. P., was unanimously called to the chair, preparatory to the introduction of the resolutions for the formation of the society. Mr. Smith said, he yielded to none in ardent desire to promote the objects of the meeting. He had always found, that in proportion as men became enlightened they became virtuous, and that in proportion as they were virtuous they were happy. The taste for literature and science, which had formerly been limited to particular classes, was now diffused through all ranks of the community. Mr. Smith concluded with noticing his long acquaintance with Mr. M'Culloch, and paid a high and deserved compliment to the independent and upright character of that gentleman.

The following resolutions were proposed, and carried :

1. Proposed by George Grote, jun., esq., and seconded by Bell, esq.; That literary and scientific institutions, on a moderate scale of expense, are eminently calculated to increase morality and hap piness, and are among the most efficient means of promoting the true interests and prosperity of society, and that an institution be now established, under the title of the City of London Literary and Scien

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tific Institution, composed of persons en gaged in commercial and professional pursuits-carried unanimously.

2. Proposed by John Abel Smith, esq., and seconded by Henry James Prescott, esq.; That the subscription of each mem ber shall be 27. annually, or 17. half yearly, and that the institution shall consist, first, of those who on or before the 22d of June, 1825, shall have caused their names to be enrolled as members, paying the sum of 17. as a half-yearly subscription, and, secondly, of those who may be admitted in conformity with the rules hereafter agreed upon-carried unanimously.

3. Proposed by William G. Prescott, esq., and seconded by William Whitmore, jun., esq.; That a provisional committee be appointed, with power to add to their numbers; and that they be instructed to frame a set of laws for the constitution and government of the institution, which shall be submitted to a meeting to be here held, at eight o'clock in the evening, on Monday the 13th of June, consisting of all whose names and half-yearly subscriptions shall have been previously received

carried with two dissentient voices. 4. Proposed by Dr. Gilchrist, and se conded by Dr. Spier; That the sincere thanks of this meeting are due to Mr. M'Culloch, for the three instructive and interesting lectures he has delivered carried unanimously.

Mr. Smith having left the chair, Dr. Gilchrist was appointed his successor; when thanks were voted to the former gentleman; who, in expressing his gratitude for the honour conferred upon him, took occasion to remark the very decided improvement he had observed in the character of the people during the forty years he had been engaged in commercial pursuits in the metropolis.

New Metal-A new metallic composition has lately been invented by Dr. Geitner, an able chemist in Saxony, the properties of which closely resemble those of silver. It is malleable, is not subject to rust, and is not liable to become tarnished. This composition has already been made use of in the manufacture of candlesticks, spurs, &c., and will, in all probability, be converted into a substitute for plated goods.

THE PEOPLE.

WE do not know of a word in the English dictionary that is more variously used than the expression which heads this article. Sometimes the people means a whole nation, sometimes the particular part of a nation opposed to the measures

of government;-now it implies the radi cal and the rabble, then the respectable portions of society, adhering to rational rule, and things as they are; now again the whole body of the laborious and ignorant, then again the sensible and wellinformed classes. In one quarter, we hear of nothing but the general weakness and stupidity of the people, in another, of the general good sense and intelligence of the people; here it is affirmed, that the wisdom of the people is daily augmenting, and that as knowledge is power, their power is constantly on the increase; while there it is averred, that their intelligence lies, and always will lie, in a nut-shell; and that power is not the adjunct of knowledge, but of fleets and armies.

We

We

Amid these clashing opinions, we cannot refrain from expressing our own. must say we feel convinced, that only the honest, the decent, the respectable portion of a community is worthy of being dignified with the appellation, the people. We think that, at present, much the greater part of our own country is included in this description: we think also, that the mental qualities of the people are hourly improving; and we consider, that the intelligence at this moment so rapidly and widely disseminating among them, will ultimately, not only be found to comprise power, but power of the best kind. think, that the soil now tilled by the hands of science and literature, will, in time, prove richly productive of political and moral virtue that public and private sentiment will be eminently benefited by the information incessantly disseminated by the various scientific establishments, the numerous reading-rooms, provided for the decent portion of the working classes, and the general and extensive circulation of cheap periodicals, which, blending amusement with useful information, form an inviting resource for all who wish to strew with flowers the path of practical and moral intelligence. This practical, this moral intelligence, we consider as the best foundation of a people's power; we see connected with it, good affections, regulated passions, sober habits, independence of mind, and a thousand other valuable qualities, which, while they promote the private comforts of individuals, give weight and dignity to the mass, as a public body, and must command the respect of the government under which they live. This respect on the part of the rulers, is power on the part of the ruled; a power of the most salutary and permanent kind; and therefore we shall always be among the foremost to advocate the cultivation of the public mind, and to hail

SCARCELY any thing is more fatal to the future comfort and felicity of men endowed with minds of a keen, but romantic and imaginative cast, than the being deprived by death of the object of an early ard ardent attachment; for that acuteness of feeling, which renders the sense of pleasure more exquisite, sharpens, likewise, the agonies of grief, and makes them doubly poignant. When such susceptible bosoms are touched with affection, it becomes a part of their existence—the very essence of their being

"To be beloved is all they need, And whom they love, they love indeed." They have so long been accustomed to indulge in their passion without restraint, and to yield fondly and implicitly to its delicious influence-to fancy that it will be as permanent, as it is rapturous, and to forget, that their beloved may be estranged or separated from them-they have experienced so much pleasure in her every word and look, and have embellished their future intended destiny with such brilliant colours-that the shock assails them like an earthquake, and is the more deeply felt, inasmuch as it was unexpected, and almost undreamt of. Time, that general soother, may blunt the sharpness of their sorrow, yet the annihilation of their hopes frequently enfeebles their spirits, leaving them tinged with pensive depression, and embittered by retrospection. She who gave a zest to their enjoyments, by sharing them, is no more the pleasures, which in her company were delightful, are without her poor and tasteless; and memory, that mirror which so truly and so cruelly reflects back our miseries with increased effect, continually recurs to past joys, now buried with her in the grave. If anticipation be rapturous to the happy, retrospection is more agonizing to the

wretched:

"The love of youth, the hope of better years

The source of softest wishes, tenderest fears,"

is gone, and gone for ever. Some may say the picture is too highly coloured, but too well do I know that it is not so. Our brightest expectations fade soonest-our fairest dreams depart most quickly-the sweetest flowers often wither in their first blossoming. Many a fine spirit have I seen, overwhelmed by the loss of the idol (of its affections, striving to appear gay, but striving, alas! in vain. I have seen them mixing in society, but only in compliance with the wishes of their friends, joining in their amusements, but more for the sake of giving, than receiving, pleasure-smiling at their frolics, but with an effort painful to any intimate observer :

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whose bosoms are the havens of virtue and compassion, sanctified the object of the noble and worthy assemblage, and could not but tend to cherish the zeal that brought so many munificent and generous persons together.

Unfortunately, not a day passes without presenting to us too many afflicting proofs of the hardships endured by the numerous urchins destined to the wretched avocation of chimney-sweeping; and there is nothing for which we more earnestly wish than some contrivance by which their condition may be ameliorated, and an evil removed, that we consider as a disgrace to this humane and enlightened country. There are among us, we know, some whose breasts are steeled

may glow,

While the tide runs in darkness and coldness below,

So the cheek may be tinged with a warm, sunny smile,

Though the cold heart to ruin runs darkly

the while."

Their souls, I could perceive, were in the tomb with their beloved. A dreary vacuity of common interest with the world had succeeded to those warm aspirations, which once enlivened their fancies, and a sombre cloud covers the perspective of futurity, as far as regards their mortal state. They make no complaints, they endeavour to conceal their grief, and to seem to taste enjoyment, but in reality they enjoy scarcely any thing; they are never spontaneously animated; all is hollow and put on to aid their kind deceit. They continue to live, but pitiable is their condition

"The day drags through, though clouds

keep out the sun,

And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on."

J. E. S.

NECESSITY FOR SUPERSEDING

CLIMBING BOYS.

THE late meeting at the City of London Tavern, in behalf of the most pitiable of the human race, reflected too much honour on the lord mayor, who presided on the occasion, and the noblemen and gentlemen by whom his lordship was supported, not to claim our especial and applausive notice. The cause of the little sufferers is the cause of humanity, and we were highly gratified by the presence of so many ladies of the most respectable description. The auspices of that sex,

tures-who, dead to grievances that do not reach themselves, or their own families, think that too much has been said upon this subject; that the evil neither loudly calls for, nor will easily admit of any material alleviation.

Strange! that beings in human shape should, in the great point of sensibility, be but on a level with the irrational part of the creation! incapable of sympathizing with the young, innocent children doomed to the constant endurance of dirt, cold, raggedness, and starvation, for whom can they have any fellow feeling? Looking at the varied mass of misery by which the happiness of this world is contrasted, where do we see more afflicting instances of human suffering, than is exhibited in the crouching, squalid persons of infantile chimney-sweepers? of the little unfortunates who, even in the severest weather, are, at an early hour, roused from their pallets of soot and filth, to creep, half-clothed, through the cold streets, with a surly, threatening task-master at their heels, by whom they are about to be driven up a black, suffocating, perpendicular avenue, in which they are to raise and support themselves, by the opposing pressure of their naked knees and elbows. And is even this the only trial imposed upon their puerile joints and unconfirmed strength? No; it is but a preparatory torture; the sable mass they have loosened from the chimney, is to be borne home by their tottering frames; their limbs and bodies are to bend under the load that has been extorted from their agonizing labours. For the condition of all slaves, we feel acutely-by the magnitude of their wrongs, we measure the iniquity of their oppressors but are the miseries entailed upon children who are sold by their unnatural parents to chimney-sweepers, inferior to those experienced by the human property of the West