who, invested merely with the attribute of novelty, attracts the devout gaze of more admirers, than all the beauties of nature. This unquiet Proteus, though begotten by the whim of a taylor, is endowed with the wonderful art of conciliating the affections of reverence and love, in the very act of inflicting tribulation. With that quick obedience, which is prompted only by the highest regard, the enfeebled victim of time urges his aching gouty limbs into his narrow fuit; the gewgaw beau, pranked with cramping tightness, freely exchanges the agility of youth, for the clumfy hobble of age; the fair, as well as the foul female, in a fhadowy attire encounters the rough addresses of the wind, though it be often armed in fecret with the arrows of death; it is the dictate of fashion, and they all fubmiffively endure the affliction. To a fource, not far different, too often may be traced the devious current of popular opinion. In a country, where the fplendour of mental embellishment can be totally eclipsed by the daub of a house, the varnish of a carriage, or the polish of buttons; where the ftupid cant of a gilded dunce has charms more enamouring, than all the melody of an Orphean lyre, falfe and fhallow notions will eafily become public and influen tial. If, according to the Spanish proverb, fools can gain wealth,—and that they can, all needy authors cry aloud in all their works, they can likewise gain an adequate power in fociety, while wealth continues to be more respected than wisdom. Opinion, it is well known, is most implicitly received from authorities, which call forth the most earnest attention and reverence. As long, then, as folly can find an extended umbrage, the crude fentiment of an unenlightened dolt may often obtain common and undifputed credit among the multitude, who feldom think seriously, and when they do, think with the thoughts of their leaders. But an abfurd prejudice, however strong may be its prevalence and credit, muft, we well know, be offenfive to reafon and truth; and though the fashion of it may protect individuals from ridicule, it can never prevent those evils, which muft through neceffity enfue. Thefe reflections are defigned as preliminary to fome thoughts on the injury arifing from the prefent heedlefs clamour againft the reading of novels. I have lately received a letter from a fair correspondent, in which she fairly describes, and pathetically laments the progrefs of infipid dulnefs among her sex, in confequence of this witless and unqualified fatire. It is too long for infertion in this paper; but it fhall compofe the next; and as fubfequent to her letter, I fhall offer my remarks on the evils in her statement. FOR THE MONTHLY ANTHOLOGY. REFLECTIONS ON THE ANCIENT DRUIDS. THERE is, in common apprehenfion, a peculiar ftigma of reproach attached to the memory of the ancient druids. They not only fuftain their portion of the contempt, caft upon heathen priests in general, but they seem to have united in their character both odium and terror. Men, on hearing the word druids, figure to themselves a tribe of favages, defpicable for their ignorance, their fanaticism and their extortion, and abominable for their murderous facrifices. We read of them, when first invaded by the Roman legions, terrifying, by their frantic gestures and their horrid yells, those veterans, whom the carnage of battle could notdif may. They are reprefented, as flying in every direction before their invaders, accompanied by women in hideous drefs, brandishing torches over their heads, and filling the air with imprecations. We view them rearing their altars on which they immolate their prifoners, and on which they become themselves, in retaliation, the deferved victims. But while we recoil from the druids, there is still something in them mysterious, fomething, which excites admiration, and forbids our degrading them below other ancient priests. To the primitive inhabitants of Europe, there has been af cribed one common origin. As this has been traced to one of the original patriarchs, it is probable, Europe received by descent some rational principles of religion. The policy of defigning priests, or the gradual tendency of rude minds to fuperftition, introduced that wild religion of nature, polytheism. The fufceptible imaginations of Britons foon became fired by that zeal, which has in fucceffive ages diftinguished the politics, as well as religion of England. There the druids were first dif tinguished for their knowledge in facred myfteries, for the independence of their rank, and the veneration, with which they impreffed the people. In thofe dark ages, and in that benighted region, where the effulgence of Grecian genius had not darted one ray, it is grateful to fee one order of men rise above the proftrate mafs, and cultivate philofophy and letters. Then were the people ignorant of that leifure of thought, which arises from abundance; and fociety wanted thofe numerous gradations, which afford opportunity to the humbleft individual of rifing. There was no object, upon which the human mind could extend itfelf. Yet then did the druids invoke in native ftrains the fpirits of departed worthies. While the people could not cultivate the foil under their feet, the druids were measuring the distance of the Aars. The heathen priesthood are generally reprefented not so fuperftitious, as wicked. It is imagined that the druids had fecret tenets, which acknowledged the unity of God and the immortality of man; but it was their intereft to encourage abfurd Thus they occafionally opinions and expenfive ceremonies. collected followers, and with them retired to difmal caves in the receffes of their groves, where at midnight they would repeat the verfes, which contained the mysteries of their creed. Though there were druideffes, they were precluded from these fecrets, as it was deemed improper to entruft fo dangerous truths to the unguarded garrulity of women. There are fome obfervances, which exalt the fuperftition of the druids above that of other priests. What are called their temples may be called buildings erected by the Deity. They were receffes in groves of venerable oaks. They were enclosed by a wall to prevent the intrufion of the profane, and in the centre, a plain stone altar announced the ground to be confecrated. They deemed it unworthy to exclude the view of heaven, while they directed their eyes in worship there. As they confidered the fun and moon to be primary deities, they wished them to thine upon their heads with uninterrupted radiance, as a token of their indulgence. Thus when the fun reached the meridian was the time, when they performed their daily rites. Then they believed the God was looking upon them, and by various contortions of body, by facrifices and hymns of praise, they fought to conciliate his favour, or avert his anger. But midnight was their favourite feafon of devotion. The thickness of their groves caft a deeper fhade over the darkness of the night. All confpired to folemnize the scene, and to add reverence to the rites of their religion. To what exceffes in fanaticifm would the people be wrought by ceremonies fo impreffive. View them at midnight marching with folemn pace under their ancient. oaks, whose thick branches obscured the "dim religious" light, which the moon afforded. Follow them to the centre of their groves, and view the priests ftanding on an eminence, dictating the duties of their religion. Arrayed in his furplice, he now afcends the loftieft oak, and with his golden knife crops the miftletoe from its boughs. This is a token of the indulgence of the gods. The populace, who before stood wrapt in devotion and filence, now burst forth in anthems of praise, while the recesses of the woods refound the melody. Is it not remarkable, that fuperftition has uniformly infpired zeal, while true religion, unless invigorated by perfecution, has been doomed to languifh? Is it not a melancholy truth, that in the worst causes we find the most strenuous agents, and in the absurdest religions, the mok fervent devotees ? I. R. T. MR. EDITOR, THE pleasure I received from the dialogue of Antoninus and Aristides in your last, as well as my veneration for Marcus, the royal Philofopher, emboldens me to request you to insert in the next number of the Anthology, Montesquieu's comprehensive view OF THE SECT OF THE STOICS. THE feveral fects of philofophy amongst the ancients, were a fpecies of religion. Never were any principles more worthy of human nature, and more proper to form the good man, than thofe of the Stoics: and if I could for a moment ceafe to think that I am a Chriftian, I should not be able to hinder myfelf from ranking the destruction of the feet of Zeno among the mi fortunes that have befallen the human race. It carried to excefs only thofe things in which there is true greatness, the contempt of pleasure and of pain. It was this fect alone, that made citizens; this alone, that made great men; this alone, great emperors. Laying afide for a moment revealed truths, let us search through all nature, and we fhall not find a nobler object than the Antonini: even Julian himself, Julian, (a commendation thus wrefted from me, will not render me an accomplice of his apoftacy) no, there has not been a prince fince his reign more worthy to govern mankind. While the Stoics looked upon riches, human grandeur, grief, difquietudes, and pleasure, as vanity; they were entirely employed in labouring for the happiness of mankind, and in exercifing the duties of fociety. It seems as if they regarded that facred fpirit, which they believed to dwell within them, as a kind of favourable providence watchful over the human race. Born for fociety, they all believed that it was their destiny to labour for it; with fo much the less fatigue, as their rewards were all within themselves. Happy by their philosophy alone, it feemed as if only the happiness of others could increase theirs. FOR THE MONTHLY ANTHOLOGY. APPEAL TO PUERILE HUMANITY. MR. PERSE, ALTHOUGH it is not yet the feason for bird catching and neft robbing, the mufe having lately obferved a folitary ftraggler on the fpray, was reminded of the various perils, to which the feathered race is fubject. And always willing to adopt fuch prejudices and even fuperftitions as contain a warning against inhumanity or furnish a motive for beneficence and gentle demeanor, fhe has availed herself of those of childhood to inculcate her admonitions on this occasion. If therefore, before the mischief is begun, the fubfequent caution is calculated to diminish those perils, or when nature shall have made every preparation for the delight and happiness of her favourites, it may prevail upon human kind to leave them as undisturbed as they are innocent, to live out all the few days of their rejoicing, undoubtedly you will publish it for the fake of its good intent, if not for it poetical worth. ftay, O ftay, nor rafhly climb, |