THE TABLE T._No. XLIV.
" The examples of former ages (l», beyond all com
parison, mors fen fib ly ajfetl tis than those of oier own
times."
ONE of my former speculations touched up
on the propensity of mankind to feel too strong
an admiration for the objecfts of antiquity. I pro
mified at that time, that the fubjeidt should be
again introduced.
It is not improbable that the Roman and some
other ancient characters were more deeply mark
ed both with virtues and vices, than what the
present age exhibits. Civilization wears off the
iharp points of passions and prejudices that stimu
late men in a more uncultivated state of society.
A commercial spirit has obtained an ascendency
over the warlike disposition of ancient times.
These reasons may perhaps solve the qtieftion,
though they may not be the most pliilofophic the
subject admits of.
The difference between the character of anci
ent and modern times, is greater in imagination
than reality. Custom renders the objecfts, we
every day behold, so familiar that we view them
without astonishment. Our cotemporaries exhi
bit virtues without being noticed or praised ; and
commit vices, that excite little indignation or
reproach.
The apothegms of ancieilt philosophers are
celebrated for their wii'dom. They are quoted
on many occasions by persons, Who are themselves
capable of conceiving ideas of greater depth and
propriety. We hear remarks 111 converlation
thaL fliew great sagacity, and soon forget them.
But when an apliorifin has the sanction of some
lplendid name of antiquity, it is supposed far
enough to exceed any thing modern.
Many persons are captivated with ancient elo
quence and poetry. It was more the custom in
former times than at present to address the pas
sions. This circuvnllance gives an ardor to some
of their orations, which is not ulual in modern
speeches. Great orators can only be formed by
great occasions. The convulsed state of ancient
governments kept the turbulent feelings of the
human mind always on the flretch. Their pub
lic speakers wete invigorated with the fabjecft,
and interelled in the event. After all, I think
•we have no occalion to look to antiquity for
specimens of the inoft sublime and animated
oratory.
It may feein paradoxical, but I believe it is
very true, that a general prevalence of know
ledge among a people smothers the flame of elo
quence. Where large numbers have ah academi
cal education, there will be a great propor
tion, who do not give any strong indications of
genius. The learned lumber which these
men accumulate has no other way to find
a market, but by afluming the names of taste
and criticism. Inconsiderable talents are ca
pable of spying out blemishes and finding
fault. When certain rules of criticism are
established, from which it is called unclaffical
to depart, they chill the natural warmth and bold
ness of the imigination. The fancy disdains
controul, and when its wings arc clipped by cri
tical reviewers, it durst not soar to those eleva
tions it would aspire after, if unrestrained. As
the imagination gives oratory its mod lively pow
ers of iafcination, it is evident that the more the
mind is fettered by established rules, the less
l'cope it has ,to display those bold strokes of elo
quence, which only warm and invigorate the
heart, in proportion as they are sudden and un
expected.
But perhaps a much more probable reason than
any I have offered, why we are so lavish of our
admiration on ancient heroes and orators, results
from the practice of studying the Latin and
Greek languages. The students at an academy
have not arrived at a maturity of age to form a
comparison between the ancients and moderns,
even if both had equal julticedone them. But
the greatpft pains are taken ito producp a venera
tion for the ancients j and such splendid exam
ples are feledted as will make strong and perma
nent impressions on a young, unguarded mind.
The inftrvuTtor will tell one, (that he is obliged to
hold out such allurements to encourage the fchol
aYs to overcome the difficulty of" learning those
languages. In addition to fiiefe catjfes of ex
travagant preference, the ambitious lad supposes
he cannot shew his attainments so effectually as
in celebrating the acftions and names of those il
-1 ultrious characters, which poets and hiltorians
have before celebrated.
It woidd have a good effecfi is the best speeches
and writings of our countrymen were feledted
and uf'ed at schools arid colleges as lellbns both
for reading and speaking. They would not fuffer
by a comparison with ancient specimens, either
for propriety of fentimentor vigor of imaginaion.
The best characters and most noble exploits which
our own times and country can furniih, would, by
these means, make forcible impressions on the
rising generation. It would contribute to excite
a national prejudice, without which, no govern
ment can cxift in the liigheft degree of perfec
tion.
FROM THE NEWPORT HERALD.
Tranjlated from the PARIS GAZETTE, printed
the year of our Lord, 2440.
UNITED STAES OF AMERICA.
WASHINGTON > the capital of tbc\Jnio>i, May, 2440,
THE soldier and the ftatefinan, wliofe name
dignifies this federal city, forms the corner stone
to this confederated republic* At his country's
call he facrificed the innocent pleasures of Ver
nonian Mount for the toils and dangers of a per
ilous war.—Though avarice was a ruling paflion,
he modestly declined all rewards for his services
—though religion was unfaihionable amongll the
great, he was exemplary in his morals ; and in
victory, he acknowledged God to be the giver—
though power was fafcinating, he with pathetic
joy resigned his sword.—Summoned again from
his peaceful retreat to complete the glorious
revolution, he accepted, from duty only, the firft
polt of government, which he discharged with
integrity, unbialled by adulations or power.
At his demil'e he left a second legacy to his coun
try — THE EXAMPLE OF A VIRTUOUS STATESMAN
—a model for succeeding Presidents.
These States where liberty, good faith, and
equality fled for refuge 800 years ago, are now
covered with numerous well regulated cities, and
highly cultivated towns. The Constitution theyi
formed, was so perfect, that it hath undergone
few other changes that what regards the settle
ment of the new territory, and the extenlion of
manufactures and commerce.—Public virtue and
justice hath done more here than what courage
and power ever effected in the world : Without
the expence of a fleet rotting in docks or idly
parading, our commerce is secured and oijr flag
honored: Without a Handing ariny in time of
peace, turning ulefnl laborers from the fourceof
industry, the vigilance of our small guards, and
the good order of our militia forms a permanent
security for our borders and our sea coast.
LONDON, July, 2440.
The obstinacy and ambition of George the 111.
which fevered America from our nation, was but
a prelude to a separation irorn the reft of our
colonial eftablifoments which hath since taken
place ; and England, like ancient Rome, finds
herfelf reduced to the boundaries that nature hath
prescribed.
The conference has however produced bene
ficial effects ; it hath curtailed the power and
diflipated the glare of the crown.—lt hath placed
the character of Charles the I, in a just light
no longer is the temple profaned by deprecatory
prayers and lying eulogiums ; instead of which
the statue of Protector Cromwell is erected upon
the executed convict, facing the Parliamentary
house, because the great man it represents is the
true auther of our present excellent constitution.
The swarm of penlioners who feafted on honey
that they did not collect, are annihilated : A
magnanimons and free policy pervades our com
mercial system, and the capital and ourillands are
increasing in wealth, enjoying all a share in the
common bounties of God.
PARIS ,July, 2440.
Twelve ships of fix hundred tons arrived up to
the capital and brought an abundant supply of
every neceflary article ; by which means the in
habitants no longer eatfi/h at ten times its value ;
110 longer reigns on the borders of the Seine, a
devouring capricious and insolent luxury, but in
stead of it there is a luxury of industry, a luxury
which creates and improves every thing that con
tributes to supply the neceflary wants and con
veniences to all.
Absolute sovereignty has been long abolished,
the Chief retains the title of King, without the
will and power of a difpot—lie executes the laws
—proposes ufeful eflablifhments—and as a father
of his people his ear is open to hear, and his justice
to redress their wrongs. The States-General are
vested with all legislative powers, their arrets are
founded 011 the public good, they decide by plural
ity of voices. Lettres de Cachet are abolilhed, the
baftile razed to its ground, and on its ruin is erec
ted the Temple of Clemency.
The citizen is 110 longer a cypher in the State,
for the general happiness of the country is found
ed on the fafety of each individual—he fears not
men, but the laws, and the Monarch himfclf is
fubjotto them ; the King is responsible to the
States General for the execution of his duty, and
they to the people—hence we fee our Princes fear
ing God, and thecenfure ofpofterity ; regarding
a good conscience and afpotlefs adminifti ation as
the higlieft degree of earthly felicity.
The citizens of the present day have clear and
just ideas of natural, political, and civil rights ;
they 110 longer degrade themselves in holding
their lives and their properties at the will and
plealure of their rulers ; amusements 110 longer
di\ ert their attention from general concerns nor
power crush them into silence- but all French
men are free.
ENGLISH PARAGRAPH.
1 HERE is a late account from Paris, which
mentions Co!. Glover's going to take poflbflion of
Sauit Aihze, the late princely residence of the I
Dutchefs of Kmgfton, and which formerivVi
ed to the Duke of Orleans. A great many Jf S "
table gentlemen attended hiui to that
magnificent palace, which is about 2? mile, r y
Paris, ntuated upon a terrace equal to Windr"'
at the bottom of which runs the river Se' '
The • .ews from the house and terrace are emM;*'
ed with the fine ft villages, gentlemen's feats,wol
and vineyards, and an extent of profpetfl impaffi
ble to describe. Every room in the house is rkht
-and coinpleatly furnilhed. It contains 1 40 *1
ht for any nobleman to lleep iu ; and to eve™
bed room a dressing room, and chamber f o r afe
vant. The whole number of beds is 250 Alar
billiard room, a large hall, richly ornamented
with Itatues, and fountains of water, which
and form cascades during dinner. The hJ
throughout the house is of great value. There
is afine play house, and an elegant chapel This
magnificent building would be fit for a Prince o'
2 or 300,000!. a year, although the whole of the
revenues of the estate are not above 2jool per
annum. It is finely wooded, with various cuts
through the woods and the end of each --erminat
ing in a rich beautiful prefpeft. The people
paid Col. Glover great honors upon his arrival
as did all the neighboring gentlemen, together
with the Stewards, Masters of the chafe, & c
About 40 young men attended him the next dav
in a lhooting party, where there was the greate't
plenty of pheasants, partridges, stags, deer, and
fawns. They presented the Col. with the gun
which the old Duke of Orleans used ; and all
allowed it had never had been used to better vr.
pose in so short a time, as the Colonel miffed only
one (hot out of twenty times.
MR TENN9,
The njertton of the fallowing tn your pt per uiiJJic agreeaUetotkfem,
part of your readers—and it is prefumei, uii/l nut of end ethers,
have a pretence to gtodntji, ft nee lerioiltuefs is ibe native fpijot
every virtue." ,
On a late SACRAMENTAL OCCASION in the
North Church.
The Merffurc in imitation of Watts' " few happy matchcs."
FROM meaner themes my Muse ascend !
An angel ask some notes to lend,
To sing of Love Divine :
The Heav'-ns a brighter luftrc shed,
Ai*d glory beams around my head,
Since Cod himfelf is mine.
The thunders of Mount Sinai, now
Jtfo longer fright, its glowing brow,
Nor witness to our guilt ;
The louder cries of Jesus' blood
Have quell'd their rage— appeas'd our God—
For this his blood was fj>ilt. »
To celebrate this dying love,
And raise their hearts to joys above
This low revolving sphere,
Behold a noble band arrive,
Who boldly dare in Christ believe—
Who dare be Christians here.
Around their Father's board they croud,
While joyful songs relound aloud,
While ev'ry rapture's high ;
Blcft prelude to that happy state,
Where feafts and songs, and crowns await,
In realms above the /ky.
O ! knew the worldling half this joy—
Half these delights, which never cloy,
How would his foul repine,
And mourn the foolifh choice he made,
Of earthly pleafures-*-phantom (hade,
In preference to divine.
Awake each sweetly founding string,
In notes fublimc salute your King,
Let love inspire Uic drain.
And when ye take your glorious flight,
Up to your God, .to dwell in light,
O! may I join your train. christian.
THE NATIONAL MONITOR. No. XIX.
u Curs'd be the verse how smooth foev'er it flow,"
Where lies and fcaodal mark the patriot's foe.
SCANDAL is the mofl powerful Qgent in the cause of anarchy od
confufion. —It is to be regretted that too many characters who art aban
doned in principle arid cqndufl, pojfejs at the fame timefo compeUnter
acquaintance with human nature, that they know where to ajjail it
thegrefllcft advantage. It mufl be acknowledged that we are so ms
tuted, that the mofl conjectures nrrefl our attention, and
an imp region upon Qur minds. Ourpaffive natures are vulnerable let it
external influence ; but when, under the guize of actw 1 '
ment, the bold front of calumny comes foftbard with a eonfdent P" B J
icjamation againjl a competitor, it is almost unherfaZy the cafc, tm
a fatal credence ts the result—When the fans of dtjor'der and mrulc
have so far effetted their oljeCl—the public confidence in their bejl) rU "
may be fhakt n—Thofe, whom the sober diclfites of reafan And rest !i *
have led the people to honor qnd refpfitt as their bejl patriots, C f
abjetls of envy andjealoufy. Their opinions are dfregardtdand t-'J
ufefulnefs is defro)ed.
The confluences may bemor-e tafily conceived-, than def cribtd.'
objeil of the worfl of men, in their innuendoes and'flanders againj f
he characters, is never the public good : It \s frfl to fuppiarit thorn* ■
aJfeShons of the people, that the way maybe open tofupplanttkcm j*
places they hold. Sometimes it is true, that jlanderers are a " u A
inferior motives : Disappointment, chagrin, malice, and envy arcof
contented until an humbler grade of mi fchief: And if tha can ( tr c
ruin of characters ioh\ch.throw their own into the jhade-, the) Te Jj u r
fled. In either of these cases, the public inter eft is far fad- 1 e . v
probity, abilities and independent principles are difcoutagd tn
laudable exertions toferve their country. " The pojl of honor tc
a private Jlatiqn." The people bewildered by blind ana cc"
lor St are plunged into eonfufion and anarchy ; till torn by j™ wn
tyranvized\over by they find their dernier retort is
arms of a despot.
| Publi/licd by JOHN FENNO, No. 9.
! near 1 IK- £ '/ccfjc-Murkrt, SE W-YO K K.-~[3^ v ' ■'