The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository Part 195

+Voltaire,+

Superst.i.tion ridiculed; tyranny exposed; innocence protected:--a nation, if not prepared for liberty, yet unfitted for bondage. Such were the labours and the triumphs of Voltaire.

The Parisians were always fond of him. Their vanity was, indeed, gratified by his glory, in which they supposed themselves to partic.i.p.ate. On his return from banishment, in the time of the monarchy (from what free country would the author of the _Henriade_ have been banished?) he was presented with a wreath of laurel, in the public theatre, and crowned, like the heroes of the ancient republics, in the presence of the whole people.

On the recovery of liberty, his ashes were claimed by the nation, and on the 10th of July, 1791, conducted into Paris, amidst the shouts of the national guards, and the tears of the citizens. The carriage, containing the corpse, was shaded with green branches, and adorned with appropriate devices. On one side was the following inscription:

"_Si l'homme a des tirans, il doit les detroner._"

On another:

"_Si l'homme est cree libre, il doit se gouverner._"

The above mottos were selected from his own immortal works.

[[Source:

This article previously appeared in The Monthly Magazine and British Register (ed. Richard Phillips), May 1796.

Notes: These pieces are listed in the Index under the names of the individual persons.]]

_THE FARRAGO._

N. IX.

If we see right, we see our woes, Then, what avails it to have eyes?

From IGNORANCE our comfort flows; The only wretched are the wise.

Wearied we should lie down in death; This CHEAT OF LIFE would take no more, If fame were thought an empty breath, Or DELIA but a purjured wh.o.r.e.

PRIOR.

Happiness having been defined, by certain acute wits the art of being adroitly deceived, perhaps, therefore, no order in society merits congratulation more, than that cajoled cl.u.s.ter of "good easy men," whom knaves call dupes. Amadis de Gaul, or any other knight errant of old romance, must have cordially cursed the malignant enchanter, who, by the touch of a tallisman, caused the gorgeous castle to dwindle to a cot, or the wrinkles of a witch to mar the brow of a peerless damsel. The Dupe, whom the unreflecting "million" too often deride for being gulled, would have equal reason to upbraid that impertinent and pretended friend, who, in the game of human artifice, should stand behind his chair, and incessantly tell him, that he was cheated. Although I cannot agree with that eccentric orator, who harangued in praise of ignorance; although I cannot print paradoxes, like ROUSSEAU's, p.r.o.nouncing the arts and sciences useless, and barbarism a blessing; yet I would fervently implore those gamesome genii, who delight in the mockery of mortals, that they would never unbind from my eyes that fillet which conceals from their view the foibles of the friend I respect, and the frailties of the woman I love. In life's pilgrimage, curiosity must be sparingly indulged: and, lest dejection invade, we should not scarcely see, still less contemplate, the deformities of ZAARA, or _The Desart_. One of the most amiable _weaknesses,_ as the world calls them, in my uncle Toby's character, as delineated by Sterne, was that you might cheat him ten times a day, if nine times were not sufficient for your purpose. aelian, a narrative Greek, records the case of an insane Athenian, who, living in a maritime town, fancied that all the vessels which arrived in the haven were his own. Horace mentions likewise, a n.o.bleman of Argos, a literary enthusiast, a "child of fancy," who, even in the vacant pit, fancied that he witnessed the representation of sublime tragedies, and "hearkened even to extacy." Now how unfortunate an officer would uncle Toby have been, had Corporal Trim hinted at the duplicity of Bridget, widow Wadman, or any of the Shandy family; and how unfortunate were the frantic Athenian and the ill.u.s.trious Argive, from whose minds the "dear deceit" was expelled by the officious friend, and the operative h.e.l.lebore.

I have read somewhere, I believe in Sir Thomas More's works, that the world is undone by looking at things at a distance. One would suppose that so wise a Chancellor would have philosophised better than this, and have maintained the _reverse_ of the proposition. Happy would it have been had his practice militated with his principles. If he had surveyed the Romish superst.i.tion, and the caprice of the eighth Henry _at a distance_, if he had kneeled to the saints without questioning their right to be worshipped, and obeyed the king without asking wherefore; the "rays of royal indignation," would not have confused the Chancellor, and he would not have paid with his head the price of _too near_ an examination.

The inimitable BUTLER, in whose Hudibras we always find much of the good sense and truth of poetry, acknowledges that,

Doubtless the pleasure is as great Of being cheated, as to cheat.

But he might have said more, and affirmed that the satisfaction is greater, and that the dupe is happier, than the knave. It is better to be the gulled spectator of a puppet show, than the master juggler, who comprehends the whole trick. How foolishly conducts that curious impertinent, who swears that the glittering crown of the theatrical monarch is nothing but tinsel, and rallies behind the scenes to view the actors in an undress. For the naked skeleton, even of delight to adopt a happy phrase of Dr. Johnson's, is loathsome; and those inquisitive beings, who wish to survey every object stripped of its trappings, resemble children who dash their gilded toys to pieces to know what is inside.

In every age inquisitiveness has caused many, eager to take a peep, to go on their way sorrowing. If our grand parent Eve had been content with innocent ignorance, and not _hankered_ after those cursed crab apples which have "set the children's teeth on edge," we should all be "jolly fellows;" each, after rising from the feast of life, would have no reckoning but his own to discharge. But since the habit of tearing off the veil from every object has grown inveterate, how many misshapen monsters have exhibited to the curious eye, most naked and nauseous disproportion. How many n.o.ble, how many ecclesiastical heads, recent from the guillotine, have gasped on the ground because TOM PAINE railed at the mob for their servility to the ruling powers, and taught them the "Rights of Man." If _happy_ ignorance had been our hereditary queen, no persecution, civil or religious, would have urged non-conforming victims to the stake or the scaffold. The bells on St. Bartholomew's night would not have tolled, Luther would not have defaced so many paintings, nor have mutilated so many statues of the Romish Church. Calvin's proselytes would have been a visionary band, feeble and insignificant as the madcap shakers. _Mother Church_ would never have quarrelled with her _daughters_ for precedency. _Lawn sleeves_ would not have been rent by one side, nor _grey coats_ singed threadbare by the other; but all the members of the _great family_ would have sung what ditties they pleased, and perhaps amicably joined in a general chorus of

"SINCE WE ARE MET, LET'S MERRY, MERRY BE, WITH A TINKER, OR A TAILOR."

+HENRY and LOUISA+; An Affecting Tale, Founded on recent Facts.

_Introduced in a Letter of Consolation and Advice to Mrs. FRANKS, from her Sister._

NEW-YORK.

DEAREST SISTER,

Your last, so fraught with genuine distress, arrived at a moment when my whole soul was agitated by a pathetic fact, which has recently occurred in this city.--Alas, my dear girl, it is not you alone whom calamity visits:--the sons and daughters of affliction are as numerous as the votaries of humanity:--Sympathy need never be idle; and the tear of pity may unceasingly trickle from the eye of tenderness, while bigotry, avarice, and vanity violate the susceptive bosom of innocence and love.

Since our establishment in this city, among the acquaintances we have formed, a family of the name of Williams, consisting of a respectable father and mother, and three dutiful sons, has not been the least flattering and agreeable. My earliest observation in it, was the sincere pa.s.sion which the eldest son constantly avowed for a neighbouring female, whose parents, though not in the habit of intimacy with his, were ever cordial and polite to his addresses. A mutual and unvaried affection had subsisted between them from their infancy, and, "growing with their growth," the time had now arrived in which they antic.i.p.ated the unbounded fruition of their juvenile hopes. Their parents, having heretofore tacitly acquiesced in their union, beheld with unutterable pleasure the ceaseless constancy of their children, which could be productive of nothing but the most unmingled happiness to all. The day of festive gladness was appointed, and Mr. Williams, in order to equalize his son's estate with the expected affluence of his daughter-in-law, purchased an elegant house, and furnished it with every article of grandeur and convenience; besides a handsome donation in cash, which he reserved for the day of celebration. The blissful and expectant hour opened to the warm feelings of the young lovers a thousand scenes of untasted joy--a thousand sources of ineffable delight. Louisa already looked upon Henry as the plighted husband of her soul, and poured into his bosom her unrestrained confidence; while he, with feelings equally elated, made her the supreme mistress of his thoughts!--Thus did the rapturous scene glow in their vivid imaginations, and tantalize expectation, when the sordid parents of Louisa, taking her to their closet, thus addressed her:--"Dear Louisa, your happiness and future comfort being the only hope and object of our lives, we have with pleasure beheld, and cherished with parental indulgence, the virtuous pa.s.sion you have long felt for Henry Williams.

In three days more our period of duty and authority will expire; and before this we earnestly wish, by one dictate of prudence, well to conclude the work ever nighest our hearts."--The astonished Louisa, unable to discern the tendency of this ambiguous exordium, remained pensively silent; and her father continued:--"You know the disparity of young Williams' fortune, and the thoughtlessness of men of his profession and years--Let us then beseech you as you regard your future welfare and our solemn request, the last perhaps we shall ever enjoin, previous to your marriage, to call for an attorney and confirm on your children the fortune left you by your uncle: what we are able to bestow will equal, if not exceed the fortune of your husband."--Louisa was all comprehension, and looking with an eye of affection first at her attentive mother, and then her father, she exclaimed, "Is it possible, father, that he, to whose honour and fidelity I am to commit my person and precious happiness, is deemed unworthy to be trusted with a trifling sum of paltry gold!"--and turning, with a sigh acceded to the proposition of her parents, as the only means of reconciling them to partic.i.p.ate in their approaching bliss. An attorney was obtained, and her fortune of five thousand pounds secured to the offspring of her legal marriage, and forever wrested from the touch of her husband.

Their exulting parents beheld the nigh approach of their children's happiness, with acc.u.mulated transport! The enraptured Henry forsook the world; and devoted his time to the retired society of his amiable Louisa;--Louisa disclosed the ungenerous deed she had been obliged to perform.--Its suspicious aspect, and concealed process, enraged the pride of his soul!--He flew to his father, related the insiduous act, and with aggravated frenzy cursed the foul and penurious machination!--His father, naturally of a high and independent spirit, heard his son with mortified ambition, and in flames of vindictive manliness hastened to the presence of the parents of Louisa--They received him with cordiality; but their demeanour was soon changed into coldness and reproach, by his unbridled vehemence; and after a clamorous altercation, in which the agonized Louisa mingled her tears, he left them with a solemn denunciation of the match, and an imprecation on their iniquitous penury. All intercourse between the parties was interdicted; the house, furniture, &c. purchased by Mr. Williams, re-sold, and the intended solemnization annihilated.

--Here, Caroline, pause, and enquire of your soul, if this horrid tale could thus conclude? Say, my sister, is it possible to your conception, that the divine and unadulterated fervor of this young pair, could, by this interposition of avarice, be resolved into apathy and indifference?---Could that celestial pa.s.sion, whose weakest votary has survived the shocks of fate, become extinct by a mere artifice and parental covetousness?---No, Caroline, it is inconsistent with nature, and nature's G.o.d.

Louisa's anguish at this disastrous event is not to be described!--After uttering her grief in the agony of tears and lamentation, she drooped into a settled melancholy. Immured in her chamber, and refusing the comfort of the world, her lonely reflections aggravated the deletary influence of her misfortune: She gradually declined; and in a few months, her relentless parents beheld the awful advances of their child's dissolution; which she viewed with a placed benignity of soul.

"Death, like a friend" indeed, seemed to succour her affliction: and by a gradual and mild operation, terminated the bitter pangs of her heart.

Yet even at the solemn period of her decline, her mind dwelt on the constancy and love of Henry with delightful extacy; and in departing from her sorrowing friends, forever closed her quivering lips in p.r.o.nouncing his beloved name! Her fate reached the ears of the frantic Henry, who, until this time, had been kept ignorant even of her indisposition! He flew to the house--but at first was denied this last sad pleasure of beholding his lifeless Louisa!--He was, however, admitted for a few minutes, on cruel conditions. Leaning on the arm of his younger brother as he crossed the aisle which conducted to the solemn apartment, his weakened senses started at the melancholy idea, and for a time an universal agony rendered him unconscious of his real situation.--He entered the darkened room, and approaching the coffin, beheld his lately blooming love beautiful even in the frozen arms of death!--"Oh!" he exclaimed; but his surcharged heart gushing from his eyes, obstructed the farther utterance of his grief. He gazed on the cold eloquence of her face; touched with his hand her palsied cheek; and with a kiss whose ardor seemed to breath his soul to the object, was dragged from the tragic spectacle!

He attended the funeral rites; and since has been continually absorbed in silent sorrow! His soul, at times, seems abstracted from his body, and in relapsing from his reveries, he often fervently exclaims, "I have seen my Louisa! She is with her kindred spirits in bliss; and I shall soon be happy!"--While he thus paces in pursuit of the same grave which incloses his hopes of life and felicity, his loving parents, oppressed with age and affliction, are hourly progressing towards their end.

Sorrow has raised her banner in the family; while the parents of Louisa, in performing the pageantry of mourning, forget the cause and object of their grief.

From this interesting narrative, my love, you will perceive, that, although others of your s.e.x endure not the same distresses to which you are destined, they are not wholly exempt from the asperities of fate.

Alas, be not covetous of distress: but learn from this reflection, that all are either the Victims of Sentiment or the dupes of pa.s.sion, desirable it is to acquire a mind patient in suffering, and a soul indignant of complaint.

Excuse the length of the present, and believe me to be

Your affectionate sister,

MARIA HARTLEY.

[->] The preceding Letter is extracted from an invaluable Novel, ent.i.tled "THE VICTIMS OF SENTIMENT:" wrote by a YOUNG AMERICAN of Philadelphia.--It is just published, and, for sale at the office of the Weekly Magazine, No. 358, Pearl-street; (_price 6s._)