THE

SETTING SUN.

And but for these vile guns,

He would himself have been a soldier.

MONSIEUR ST, PIERRE, in his Etudes de la Nature, tells us that, some years ago, happening to pass through l'Aigle, a small town in Normandy, he strolled out about sun-set, to enjoy a little fresh air. He perceived, on a rising ground, a convent most delightfully situated. A monk, who stood porter, invited him in to see the house. He conducted him through an immense court, in which the first thing that struck his eye was a man about forty years old, with half a hat on his head, who advanced directly upon him, saying,

VOL. II.

"Be so good as to stab me to the heart! be so good as to stab me to the heart!"-The monk, who was St. Pierre's guide, said to him, "Sir, don't be alarmed: he is a poor captain, who lost his reason, on account of an un-military preference that passed upon him in his regiment."—Happily, the British officers have less sensibility, or stronger nerves, or all the receptacles for lanatics in the united kingdom, both public and private, would not have contained the military maniacs. Lord Burghersh's promotion alone would have set nearly thousand of them raving mad.

The story of Ilnafac, one of the bravos of Captain Raggado, mentioned in the Arabian Tales, may not be so improbable a fiction: He is said to have carried a small purse of the size of an egg, which, on occasion, he could swell with his breath to such a size, that it might lodge all the pilgrims to Mecca, with their guard. And why not, as well as a lady's petticoat cover the whole British army!-nay, and an archbishop, bishops,

deans, prebends, rectors, vicars, (curates are as much out of the question as hackhorses) besides some hundreds of civil officers and sinecure men! "Think of that, Master Brook!"-As Filch (in the Beggar's Opera) chaunts it;

""Tis woman that seduces all mankind,

By her we first were taught the wheedling arts;
Her very eyes can.cheats when most she's kind,
She tricks us of our money with our hearts.

For her like wolves by night we roam for prey,
And practice ev'ry fraud to bribe her charms
For suits of love, like law, are won by pay,
And beauty must be fee'd into our arms.”.

When Gil Blas was high in favour with the duke of Lerma, prime minister of Spain, he is depicted by Le Sage as overwhelmed at once with joy, honor, and distress, playing the man of consequence by day, in the duke's hotel, and at night creeping up into his garret, his importance vanished, and nothing remaining but poor Gil Blas, without money, and, which was worse, without any thing

that could fetch it. At last, he finds an opportunity of ingeniously bringing the duke acquainted with his distress, who presents him with a treasury order for fifteen hundred ducats, promises a similar sum annually, and adds--" Besides, when people of wealth and generosity solicit your interest, I do not forbid you to speak in their behalf.” -Scipio, the favorite's calet; is set to work, and the first job, a royal pardon, produced only one hundred pistoles but they were then novices. at the trade. Scipio, the man of intrigue; redolved ten pistoles for his right of brokerage. Small as was the account, it served to whet their appetite, and Gil Blas rises gradually to governments; when the minister comes to the eclaircissement, by demanding half the profits of such considerable favors. There was now no bounds to the favorite's rapacity, being thus partner with the great man; and, not content with making governors, he confers orders of knighthood, and converts some good plebeians into bad gentlemen, by virtue of hocus

pocus, letters patent. He was also desirous to extend his benevolence towards the clergy, and bestowed small benefices, canonships, and some inferior ecclesiastical dignities; but the bishoprics and archbishoprics were all in the gift of a rival secretary, whence it was evident. enough that the great places were no better filled than the small ones; for the personS chosen to occupy the posts, of which they made such honorable traffic, were not always the best qualified, not the most regula.. These traders knew very well that the wits of Madrid made themselves merry at their expence; but they resembled those sordid wretches who console themselves for the public scorn with the sight of their gold.

Now, did Mrs. Clarke tear a leaf out of Le Sage's book, or have the eyes of all persons in power the same squinting propensity towards corruption? However that might be, it is certain that Colonel Wardle's inquiries have proved the existence of the baneful season predicted by the poet, all but the two last lines, which, we hope in God, and in