"An habitation giddy and unsure

Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart."

SHAKSPEARE.

All this we know to be the result of the established order of things;-of power which cannot be restrained, and of wisdom which is past finding out; yet the man who would sit down contentedly in a state of wretchedness and misery, without making one effort to relieve his wants, or one exertion to get rid of his perplexities, would be justly considered by us as little better than a madman. The child who endeavours to catch birds by throwing salt on their tails, would exhibit greater proofs of sagacity.

To resign ourselves cheerfully to the disposal of fate, in order that we might keep up the harmony of nature, would be no less ridiculous than to refuse a salutary medicine when we are dying with a fever.

Of all the evils to which human nature is liable, perhaps poverty is the most distressing to the man of sensibility. Exposed to the contempt of the world, and possessing no source of independence within himself, a superior education only causes a man to feel more acutely the misery to which he is exposed. Unable to procure the conveniences or even the necessaries of life, as he feels the vulture hunger preying upon his vitals, and beholds, perhaps, a wife and family who are dependant upon him for their support, in the same lamentable circumstances, how cheerfully would he barter all his airy dreams of nectar and ambrosia for one material meal of the most inferior quality. The sweets of learning may indeed be tasted almost without alloy, and the wanderings of the imagination may be productive of infiuite pleasure in connection with a life of ease and a competent fortune; but when the effusions are the only means of support, the case is materially altered: "a man cannot subsist upon pure spirituals, reside on school-distinctions, or keep house with the four cardinal virtues, without so much as a civil pair of breeches, a material dish of victuals, an external pot of ale, a secular shirt, and a temporal mansion." Don Quixote would indeed persuade us that the age of chivalry produced some instances to the contrary. "Though I think," says he, "I have read as many histories of chivalry in my time as any man, I never could find that knight-errants ever ate, unless it were by mere accident, when they were invited to great feasts and royal banquets; at other times they indulged themselves with little other food besides their thoughts." But if we consult Hudibras on the subject, we shall find that he denies the assertion and entertains a more rational opinion. "For though Knight Errant, as some think,

Of old did neither eat nor drink,

Because when through desarts cast,

And regions desolate they past,

Where belly-timber above ground,
Or, under was not to be found,
Unless they graz'd, there's not one word

Of their provision on record;

Which made some confidently write,
They had no stomachs but to fight,
'Tis false-

But let that pass at present, lest

We should forget where we digrest,

As learned authors use, to whom

We leave it, and to th' purpose come."

Men of learning and talents have in all ages and countries, our own not excepted, afforded the most striking examples of poverty and want; originating, not unfrequently, it must be confessed, from their own imprudence, but generally from the culpable neglect of their countrymen. mortal Homer was exposed to all the miseries of want!

"Three famous cities claim great Homer dead,

Through which, when living, Homer begg'd his bread.

The im

"The celebrated Cervantes, is supposed to have died of hunger; Cam oens was deprived of the necessaries of life, and is believed to have perished

in the streets.

"The great Tasso was reduced to such a dilemma, that he was obliged to borrow a crown from a friend to subsist through the week. He alludes to his distress in a pretty sonnet, which he addresses to his Cat, entreating her to assist him during the night with the lustre of her eyes.

"Non avendo candele per iscrivere i suoi versi ! »

Milton sold his immortal poem for ten pounds to a bookseller, "being too poor to undertake the printing of it on his own account.——

"Samuel Boyce, the author of a poem in the Creation, " was absolutely famished to death; and was found dead, in a garret, with a blanket thrown ever his shoulders, and fastened by a skewer, with a pen in his hand."

Butler also, perhaps the greatest wit that ever existed, died in the most abject state of poverty; of which the following epigram, written on his tomb in Westminster Abbey, will remain an everlasting proof:

"Whilst Butler, needy wretch! was yet alive,

No gen'rous patron would a dinner give;

See him, now starved to death, and turn'd to dusty

Presented with a monumental bust ;

The poet's fate is here in emblem shown,

He ask'd for bread, and he received a stone."

Otway died with hunger, and Chatterton was so poor that he found "a penny tart a luxury.

I have been led to the consideration of this subject, Mr. Editor, by the perusal of a letter which I received a few days ago from an old class-fellow of mine at Eton, who has spent a year or two on the continent, in the hope of realizing an independence by some extraordinary effort of genius: but he is returned as poor as he went-with the same sanguine views, and the same happy indifference to pecuniary affairs. Nay, so exactly does he resemble what he was two years ago, that he wears the same coat, and, for any thing I know, the same neckcloth that he had on when he left England. Nevertheless he is a strenuous advocate for cleanliness, and would not, for the world, have his character injured by the circulation of such a report.

He was born in the West-Riding of Yorkshire, and during his early years distinguished himself as the best scholar and the most mischievous fellow in the grammar-school of the town where his parents resided. A single anecdote of him during this period will give you a more correct knowledge of his character, than the most elaborate description. The writing-master who at tended the school, had formerly been a corporal in the army, but, in conse quence of the loss of his left leg and right arm, both of which he had left behind him in Egypt, he had retired from the service on a pension of thirteen pence half-penny a day. He had been brought up in the neighbourhood; and, being a tolerable penman, was taken notice of by the head-master, placed in that situation at the low salary of ten pounds per annum ; it having been previously ascertained that he could "dress hair, lie three in a bed," &c. &c., which, in Goldsmith's days, were indispensable qualifications in all ushers of schools.

and

It seems that our veteran was unable to procure the same passive obedience in the school, which he had been accustomed to receive in the army; and that he had frequently discovered old pens thrust through his tail, and considerable quantities of coals and rubbish dropped into his great-coat pocket. But my friend had resolved on playing him a more serious prank. Accordingly, one day when the old gentleman was sitting very coolly mend ing the pens, he secretly stole behind and stuck a large clasp-knife, which he had prepared for the purpose, through the skirts of his coat into the stool on which he was sitting; at the same time saying that the master wished to speak with him at the other end of the room. The ci-devant corporal, as in duty bound, rose in a violent hurry to attend his commander, and the consequence was that his coat was torn from the waist to the very bottom. The young delinquent, with his usual address, avoided the punishment which he so justly deserved, by attaching all the criminality to a bigger boy whom he had contrived to implicate in the affair.

While we were at Eton, the same inclination to mischief, accompanied by the same superior talents, characterised him; but his parents suddenly dying, he saw himself unexpectedly thrown upon the wide world, without a single friend to advise him, or a shilling of money to support him. His classfellows, myself excepted, all forsook him, and those who had formerly reveled in luxury at his expense, would not so much as give him a meal to prevent him from starving. Such is the way of the world

"Donec eris felix, multos numerabis amicos;

Tempora si fuerint nubila, solus eris."

OVID. Trist.

From that period till his departure for the continent, he contrived to exist on the trifling emoluments which he received for writing in the newspapers, and occasionally announcing "Restorative Pills," “ Japan Blacking," &c. &c. His own letter will afford the best account of his subsequent proceedings, and I shall here transcribe it for the amusement of your readers:—

"Dear

of

London, March, 1818. "My travels on the continent, instead of realizing my sanguine hopes immediate affluence, have been utterly disappointed, and I am compelled

with shame and sorrow to acknowlege that I have returned to England still poorer than I was when I left it. The coat you were so kind as to give me on my departure, is still my best, and indeed my only one, for I have no changes of raiment. It was indeed, as the tailor told us, most excellent cloth; and making some allowance for the loss of three buttons from the lappet and a trifling aperture at each elbow, it is still a respectable garment. "If you would be kind enough to assist me again but I say no more; my frequent demands on your purse recur to my memory, and my hopes of future assistance can only be compared to those of an expiring wretch, who places all his reliance on the mercy of Providence. On board the vessel in which I embarked at Yarmouth, I discovered a sharper, who fleeced me of every shilling that I possessed, except my passage-money; and as my pride would not suffer me to appeal to his generosity, I should have found myself pennyless if I had not summoned resolution to lay my case before the captain of the vessel, and procure the return of a small sum to defray my immediate expenses. My situation was truly deplorable! I found myself in a foreign country, without a single friend, and not even possessed of a letter of recommendation! I had landed on the Dutch coast according to my original intention, and though I was totally unprovided with money, I resolved to proceed on my route. I contrived to procure a temporary subsistence by giving instructions in the English language to the daughter of a Dutch merchant, to whom I had been recommended by an English gentleman whom I accidentally met with. By similar means I managed to make the tour of several of the German states, and at length I arrived at Vienna. Here I found myself once more with an empty purse, though, like Mungo Park in the wilds of Africa, I possessed my usual flow of spirits, and felt an uncontrollable inclination to pursue my travels. I contrived to procure a small sum of money by showing the observations I had made during my journey to the resident English, proposing them for publication. By a series of almost incredible good fortune, I passed through Switzerland and the south of France to Bayonne, subsisting all the way on the precarious employment I was enabled to obtain; and, at length, after as many adventures as Captain Cook experienced during his circumnavigation of the globe, I have been spared to revisit my native shore.

"I hope you will be kind enough to remember me to ***** [Here follow some references to our mutual friends, after which he continues.]

“I have made some copious notes during my peregrination, which I hope to swell into a volume, and dispose of for a few hundreds to some respectable bookseller. In the mean time I shall be enabled to procure a subsistence by the resumption of my former employment. I have already received numerous proposals to write odes for blacking-venders, puffs for pill-manufactupers, &c. In the hope of increasing employments of a similar nature,

"I am, &c."

The foregoing letter, Mr. Editor, deserves the attentive perusal of all who, not satisfied with travelling the high road of life, the beaten track which their predecessors have pursued, would attempt a shorter and more slippery path; and it may also with propriety be recommended to those discontented, im

prudent, or sanguine persons who fancy that every country possesses facilities for the acquisition of wealth or fame which are not to be found in their

own.

Merit, as it deserves, may expect patronage and support; but our success does not always depend upon our abilities, and though it is laudable to aspire to eminence, it is advisable nevertheless to be prepared for disappointment. S.N.E.

CORROBORATIVE PROOFS OF A GENERAL DELUGE, Drawn from subterraneous Appearances. *》nv*༠༠༠༠łཝ་

ALMOST every part of this globe which has been examined with care, either externally or internally, so far as the most daring adventurers have been able to inspect it, bears evident marks of some overwhelming deluge of water; this is most apparent near the surface of the earth; coal, and traces of vegetables, with some particular marine animals, are found in the lowest strata that have been yet examined; in the other strata, up to the surface, the remains of the inhabitants of the water only are met with near to, and on the surface only, are found the fossil-remains of various land-animals. All the different strata which geologists have been able to examine, appear to be formed by deposition from water: some of them, that would appear to have been continuous, have been broken through their whole depth, and so dislo cated, that some masses of the lower strata now form considerable elevations on the surface, and in many of these the superior strata are carried away. Marine animals, and other marine substances, are frequently found in the most elevated situations as well as in valleys, and it would be difficult to ac count for these without the idea of a deluge of water.

If I had had a doubt on this subject before, the observations I have lately made in this neighbourhood would have been conclusive in my mind. In a common pasture, called Swinemoor, near Beverley, through which a deep drain has been made, I observed that a number of trees (principally oak) have been cut through by the workmen; the same appearance, also, I have seen in other parts of Holderness, which in general lies low. The greatest number of those trees that have come under my observation was at Eske, a hamlet about two miles from Beverley, where large quantities of oak-timber have been dug out at different times. In most parts of Holderness, trees are found, and not unfrequently the horns of deer. The oak-wood is in general quite black, having no bark left; but in some places other kinds of wood, and even nuts, have been discovered in a perfect state. The trees thus found are generally from two to three feet below the surface of the earth, though some are much lower, and others nearer the surface; and on some of the ground where those trees are found in abundance below the surface, there is not a tree, of any magnitude, to be seen growing upon it. Hence a question arises, how have those trees come into the situation in which they now are? They have not been felled to obstruct an hostile army, for none that I have examined have been cut at all, being entire to the very roots. They have therefore either been overwhelmed in the places where they stood, or been washed away from the higher part of the country: if they had been brought down by water from