[No. XXVI.] THE TABLE T. No. XXVI. « Few men are fit for every fart of education, and ~t every fort of education is made in one instance or Cher nfui, every fort of men." IN one of my former numbers it has been suggested that some men, from natural in capacity, are debarred from gaining any know ledge, that is jult and ufeful. In another of my papers it has liketvife been suggested, that many people fail of valuable attainments, by facrificing their time upon fludies that arc of no kind of im portance. But there is still another class of peo ple who do not mi'carry from cither of tliefe cau'fes and yet whole moll diligent pursuits re alize very little advantage. They fail of arriv ing: at an'v great degree of excellence from an in aptitude of talents to the objects about which they are employed. It falls to the lot of few to have extent of capacity to excel in more than one art or profeffion ; and molt people, though, in the firft instance, they Ihould be lucky enough to give their genius its true direction, and follow a right track closely through life, would nevertlielefs fall Ihort of perfection in their particular employ ment. How unfortunate then ninft it be, when their abilities take a wrong turn and counteract their natural tendency ! Still more unfortunate mud it "be, when men pursue many different ob jects, neither of which suit their capacity. Parents too little consult the peculiar bent of genius in designating employments for their chil dren. Before it is known what is best adapted to the talents of a child, the parent anticipates that knowledge, and determines at all events what ptofelfionhefhall follow. This predisposition in favour of any calling so biafles people, that they cannot judge with propriety, whether it is suitable or not. In making an experiment which does not prosper, they thwart the course of nature, damp the ardour for improvement, throw the mental faculties into confulion, produce fickle nefs of temper, and perhaps never ascertain the real propensity of genius, till it is too late to give itaproper direction. There is a nioft striking impropriety in gratifying such a predilection, before a child has given some symptoms of the peculiar cast of his talents. Though there may never be indications of such a temperament of mind, as will cucompafs, by the severest Itudy, any general knowledge of the arts and sciences, he may still have ingenuity for some mechanical occupation, and may even I'o far excel in some branch, as to become ufeful to society and pro fitable to himfelf. But by mistaking his natural biafs he blun '.ers through life, always acting a gainst theftream, and never gaining any honour or profit by his pursuits. It cannot be supposed that so great a propoition of mankind, from 3ny natural defect of uiulei Handing, are inevitably doomed to such a series of lrardlhips, disgraces, and difappointinents, as ieem so often to embitter human life. It favestlie trouble of inveftijiation, 1•, O t and is an easy solution of the matter, to charge the blame to nature, and to reft contented in the belief, that no institutions can be adopted for lef iening the calamities and vices, of which so many ill-fated men participate. I have confefled, that some people can never be wrought into any cha racter that isufefnl or refpe&able ; but the num ber, who come within this defcriptioji, is fmallet perhaps than is usually imagined, In raoft of the Universities or academies in this country there are certain claflical fttidies, whicl; are imposed as a talk on each student, wliethei they are acccmmodated or not to his particulai genius and inclination. The effect of this undii tinguifhing manner of in ftruction is, that atonfi derable proportion of the pupils derive little or no advantage from their education. It is beyond doubt, that noperfon can make proficiency in any liudy, which does not coincide with his wishes ; and it is no less evident, that one caujfe of the in dolence and aversion observable in so many Un dents, is, that they are set about that kind of li terature, for which they have not an aptitude of faculties. In thus countera&in g the natural bent of their capacity they become difgulted and idle. It defervesaf'erious enquiry, whether there can really be any reformation in the mode of academ ical education. Ij it is believed any remedy can eapplied to remove the inconveniencies, that rC, n'k 0m a '"ifapplhation of faculties, it *11 be granted, that every attempt to introduce a more perfeCt plan lhoiiid be applauded and pa ronized. I make even these defiiltory remarks • 'elmftance; and lhall refrain from a minute legation ofthefubjfet. This important talk Mould beentered upon by thole, whose profeffion i." , "uation are adapted to difeuliions of this \ n ' Any Iketches, however loose and immatur -0 'ntercfti/.g a matter, ihould be received Ak candour, tsnd examined Arith attention. SATURDAY, July ir, 1789. Those who have the management of schools and Univerlities are in the habit of believing thattlie present regulations are judicious if not perfect, r ew, if any, of those characters are willing to al low, that in the distribution of lludies, any re ference should be had to the difference of genius or inclination, in different students. Many rea sons are offered why an uniform method should be observed in apportioning the talk to each indivi dual. In my next number these reasons fliall be noticed and the fubjecft fur.her illultrated. MR. FENNO, AMERICANUS has again Favoured the public in the XXIVth X T o. of your paper, with some of his obfcrvations relative to the Western country. I have read his remarks with great attention, but must candidly confefs, that many of them, if they have any re lation to that fubjeft, are far beyond my comprehension. He makes mention of people " quitting habitations now unftftled which is the fame thing as to fay, emigrating from an un settled country. I question much if this has ever been the cale in any part of the world. This expreftion of our author put* me in mind of rwo acts of aflembly—the one imposed a considera ble penalty on any person, " who fhou,(d alter the mark of an unmark ed hog I ' —the other ordered that a certain piece of ground, in the city of Ph-l-d-lph-a, should " be enclosed by a brick teal/, and lefi open forever." There are but two arguments brought forward by Americanus in the number alluded to, which in any uieafure apply to the fubjefl ot the Wedern country. The lit. is,thatwAd. argument, is contained in these words—" it is in tht power ofgovern ment tooppofe the removal of the inhabitants of the Atlan tic States, by making it their real interefl to continue at home., it being a fancied intercjl which tends them abroad." This point is so far from being eftabhflird, that it has no precise idea prefixed to it : It is one of those cast sin which every man has a right to judge for him felf, and in which government cannot beotherwife than filcnt. It would certainly be idle in the extreme, to undertake convincing a man who had been surrounded by a number of children, and un fortunate in his circ.timftances, and who by removing into the Wes tern country had provided amply for himfelf and family, that he had not attended to his real inter eft." Cases fnnilar to this are innumerable. Amcricanus is generally unfortunate when he brings the Wes tern country before the public : He tells us that he docs not expect tl the concurrent opinions of land-jobbers, monopolizers of the Irard-earned wages of the poor fold iers, and other harpies upon the public." This insinuation proceeds from a want of information, and is so far from being well founded, that some of the principal oppofers of a land office for the Western country, and the mod decided advocates for Amcricanus, are the very Speculators he mentions. They are already fupplicd with land in abundance, and that at the expense of the United States, and would now, it poflible, prevent the attention of Congress being directed to that country, until they had dilpofed of their speculations. I am well acquainted with many of the principal advocates tor cftablifhing a land office, for thedifpofal of theWeftern territory ; but I do|not know one of them, who has not uniformly distinguished himfelf as a friend to the liberty, and " real interests" of his fellow citi zens, and however strange such disinterested conduct may appear to Americanus, he may reft afTured, that they are not interested in the lands in the Western territory. A. E. ANECDOTES of the DUCHESS of GLOUCESTER. ABOUT the year 1730, Mr. Edward Walpole (afterwards Sir Edward, Knight of the Bath) returned from his travels on the continent, where the munificence of his father, the famous statesman, had enabled him to make a brilliant figure ; and so ve ry engaging was he found by the ladies, that he had no other ap pellation 111 Italy, than that of " the handsome Englidiman." Amongst more transient connections with the lovely Signoras, he formed onetender onew th a lady of the name of Laura; which name he afterwards (profeffedly for her lake) gave to his eldcft daughter, the present Mrs. Kcppel. Mr. Walpole had lodgings taken for him, on his return, at a Mrs. Rennic's, a child's coat-maker, at the bottom of Pall Mall. On returning from visits, or public places, he often passed a quar ter of an hour in chat with the voung women of the shop. Amongst them was one who had it in her power to make him forget the fair Laura, and all the beauties of the English court; her name was Clement; her father was at that time, or soon after, postmast er at Darlington, a place of fifty pounds per annum, on which he subsisted a large family'. This young woman had been bound apprentice to Mrs. Rennie, and was employed in the usual duties of luch a situation, which die dilcharged (as the old lady used to do 1 honestly and soberly. Her parents, however, from their ex treme poverty, could supply her but very sparingly with clothes or money. Mr. Walpole observed her wants, and had the ad dress to ' make her little presents in a way not to alarm the vigi lance of her mistress, who exacted the drifted morality from the voung persons undei her care. Miss Clement was beautiful as an impel, with good, though uncultivated, parts. Whatsoever fen timci ts or principles of virtue die might be supposed to bring with her from Darlington, it is no great wonder that they were a I little fliaken, when attacked by a man whose father was ruling ' Europe, and whtffc personal endowments were so great, that they [ -n /,"• 'a.fdaj a,.J t:-rj .■>.] <;ave her lor i iva's every woman of birth and beauty in the king dom Whether her virtue had been fubdned before her lover left ins lodgings, is not known ; the lodgings were only a transitory tiling till his honfe could be prepared for him, to which he now removed, and about the fame period received the honor of knight hood. ° Mrs. Rcnnie had begun to fufpeft that a connexion was form ing, which would not be to the honor of her apprentice. She ap priled Mr. Clement of her suspicions, who immediately came ui> to town to carry her out of the vortex of temptation. The good old man met his daughter with tears, he told her his suspicions; and that hefhould carry her home, where, by living with sobri ety and prudence, lire might chance to be married to fbme de c. Nt tradesman. The girl, 111 appearance, acquiesced, but whe ther her diftafteto the dismal feenes at home gave her the resolution to facrifice every thing rather than return, or whether the had be fore facrificed so much that she thought character only not worth retaining, eannot be ascertained ; tins, however, is certain, that wbilft her father and millrefs were aifcourfing in a little dark par* lour behind the shop, the object of then cares flipped out, and without hat or cloak ran directly through Pall Mall to Sir Ed ward's house at the top of it, (now inhabited by Mrs. Keppel) where, the porter knowing her, she was admitted, though his mailer was absent. She went into the parlour, where the table was covered for dinner, and impatiently waited his return. The moment came at last : Sir Edward entered, and was heard to ex claim withgreat joy, " You here." Whatexplanations took place were of course in private ; but the fair fugitive fat down that day at the head of his table, and never after left it. The fruits of this connexion were Mrs. Keppel, the eldeu; the Royal Dutchefs, the second; lady Dyfart, the third ; and Col. Walpole, the fourth, in the birth of whom, or soon after, the mother died. Never could fondnefs exceed that which Sir Ed ward always cherilhed for the lovely mother of his children; nor was it confined to her or them only, but extended itfelf to her relations, for all of whom he some way or other has provided. A (liter he took into the house, and who still lives with him with unblemished reputation. His grief at the loss of his wife (for such in efleft (he was) was proportioned to his love : he coniLuit* Iy declined all overtures of marriage, and gave up his life to the education of his children. He had often been prompted to unite himfell to Mrs. Clement by legal ties, and was pi evented only by the reflection that the children he then had would, Ihould he have others alter mairiage, be considered in a light so different from those others, that his flrong parential affeflion could not bear-to create tire difference. Some have alledgcd, that the threats of his father, Sir Robert, prevented his marriage; who avowed, that if he married Mrs. Clement, he would not only deprive him of his political intereff, but exert it against him. Ithasbeen, how ever, always said, by thole who had access to know, that had Mrs. Clement survived Sir Robert to the age in which it might be cxpettcd fhe_ would cease to become a mother, that she would then have been certainly lady Walpole. .About the year 1758, his eldelt daughter, Laura, became the wife of the Hon. Frederick Keppel, br ther to the Earl of Albe maile, and afterwards Bishop of Exeter. His firfl paflion was for Maria ; but not making the progress in her atfeftions which he expected, he transferred li s vows to her filler, by whom thev were inflantly accepted. Though this was no great match in it felf, conftdering the fortune which Sir Edward gave his daughters, (Mr. Keppel having at that time very little church provision, and no hereditary fortune) yet in its confluences it became highly im portant. The Miss Walpoles now took a rank in society in which they had never before moved. The fillers of the Earl of Albemarle were their conllant companions, and introduced them to people of quality and falhion ; -they ctuillantly appeared at the firfl routes and balls; and, in a word, were received every were but at court. The lligma attending their birth shut them out from the. drawing room, till marriage (as is the cafe of Mrs. Keppel) had covered the defeff, and given them the rank of another family. No one watched their progref.N upwards with more anxiety than the Earl Waldegrave. Tiiis Nobleman (one of the proudell in the king dom) had long cherished a paflion for the all-conquering Maria J her education and manners made any idea of her being prevailed on to copy the falfe fleps of her mother, on any terms, too im probable to benourifhed ; and he saw that the only termson which he could hope to obtain a hearing from the lady, were those of marriage—and that she would hcarhim even on those terms was very doubtful, for his Lordlhip was above twenty years older than the object of his admiration. The struggle between his paflion and Ins pride was not a short one, nor is it clear which of the two would have been vittor inthecontefl, had not the marriage of Mrs. Keppel, and the subsequent importance of her fillers thrown the over-balance into the scale of love. 'Having conquered his own difficulties, it now only remain ed to attack the lady's. The Peer made his approaches in form, and was flatteringly received. The lady had no prepof feflion ; and Lord Waldegrave, though not /oung, was not dfa grecable; his manners were polite, and his offers suited to his rank. A few months elevated the lady into a sphere which, looking back, mull have aflonilhcd her. AsaCoun'efs she had a more extended vortex, and of course the number of her admi rers increal'ed : and it is probable that many men of fafhion now wondered that they let such a jewel escape them. Her very ami able condu£l through the whole life of her Lord added refpeA and efleem to the warmefl admiration. "Young, beautiful, an old husband and a Countess." What a constellation of tempta tions mud Ihe have been surrounded by? yetlhe retained, amidst them all, the purell manners and the purest name. Amongst others who sighed for her in hopeless ardours, was the Prince o£ Mccklenburgh, brother to our gracious Queen. He made no se cret of his paflion; it was talked of every where; and Lord Waldegrave, in the triumph of his heart, used jestingly to entreat his lady to have compaflion on the Prince. About five years after their marriage, the small-pox attacked his Lordlhip, and proved fatal. His Lady found herfelf a young widow, and, what may appear flrange, inconsolable! Had Lord Waldegrave pofTeffed every advantage of youth and beauty, his death could not have been more sincerely regretted by his amia ble relist. At length she emerged again into the world, and love and admiration every where followed her. She refufed many offers; amongst others, the noble Duke lately at the head of adminiflration loudly proclaimed his discontent at her refufal. But the daughter of Mary Clement was destined to royalty ! Whether his Royal Highness firfl endeavoured to obtain her good wishes on easier terms than those ofmarnage, will always remain doubtful; but certain it is that the Duke of Gloucester and the Dowager of the Earl Waldegrave were married some years before she took the title ol Princess, or their marriage was announced. This alliance now is acknowledged in every court in Europe ; many of which the royal pair have diftinguilhed by their resi dence. Two children, a Prince and Princess, are the fruits of their marriage; and it is within the bounds of probability, that the descendants of the poftmaftar at Darlington may one day sway the liritifh sceptre. These authentic anecdotes may be important to the future his torians of this country; and to their, they are dedicated. (Britijh publicum.)