in the public streets—and thus it was; every one to whom he did not return the salute, were immediately to be deprived of life. Many were seen running to supplicate either for himself or for his relations; to live in the midst of such destruction being accounted an instance of special favour-and many fell at the feet of the old butcher, condemned by his fatal silence. Even his friends, excepting those who were as wicked as himself, approached him, in those days of blood, with the paleness of death in their countenances. Full five days and nights that savage beast destroyed, and burned, and stained that earth with blood, which should have opened and engulfed him.

"Nor was the immense vengeance of this man bounded by these walls; all Italy was inundated with blood, in the midst of which he revelled in splendid feastings, pleased with seeing it run in foaming streams. In a short time, however, his intemperance effected that vengeance, which to your swords more justly belonged. Marius died at last of gluttony and old age, who should have died of hunger in the cradle. It is not easy to determine whether he had been more fatal to us or our enemies.

"Rome was, however, not relieved by his death from that disastrous weight of oppression. Even at his funeral, Fimbria, the most ferocious of his satellites, impelled by sudden fury, ordered the assassins to kill the Pontiff Maximus Scevola, who performed the rites, and whom escaping, they had the incredible audacity to cite to the Comitium as a criminal; where having demanded of Fimbria the nature of his charge, he said that Scevola had not received on his body the blows decreed him.

66

The name, and atrocity of Marius still remained as a fatal inheritance in his son; who, made Consul four years after the death of his father, was anxious to cut down the lives of the few good men that remained as rare ears forgotten in the gathering. But not being able to surpass his father in cruelty, he resolved to distinguish himself by perfidy; and accordingly having convoked the Senate, when the senators were seated in the hall, the greater part were, by the Marian butchers, accustomed to daily slaughters, put to death; among whom was at length included Scevola, who in

:

"While Rome was polluted by these massacres, Silla fought in Asia against Mithridates but suddenly turning his legions on us, he here appeared a dreadful destroyer. His bloody career was thus commenced while presiding in the Senate, in the temple of Bellona, he ordered to be slain upwards of 6,000 Marian soldiers who had surrendered themselves prisoners, and whom he had inclosed in a contiguous part of the temple. The agonizing cries of the multitude pierced by the swords of the assassins, caused a sad and sudden silence in every senator. Pale counte nances and suspicious eyes were the sole eloquence of their terror-struck minds. But Silla, with savage calmness, said, Proceed with business, it is only a few seditious people, chastised by my order.' Immediately after this butchery, the streets were seen streaming with its blood, and the ministers of Sillanian fury spread themselves in every part of the city, with a horrid thirst of more. In so great an uncertainty of life, the invention of proscription seemed clemency, for the fatal list in which so many illustrious lives were sold, left some hope of safety to those who were not comprised in it. First in that roll of death were the two Consuls of that fatal year

next the most distinguished senators and patricians, to the number of 5,000

and that the memory of such destruction might not perish, Silla ordered the names of these unfortunate victims to be inscribed in the public register. No distinction of vice and virtue, of good and bad, appeared in this dreadful massacre; and if the father, brother, or son, to the proscribed father, brother, or son, gave shelter, he was doomed to die with him; but if the proscribed was put to death by his relations, they were rewarded and commended, as was Cataline, who commenced his atrocious career by fratricide. Neither temples, nor household gods, not even the bed-chamber, could afford retreat or refuge from the snares diffused throughout all Italy. Husbands were stabbed in the embraces of their trembling wives, and children in the palpitating bosoms of their mothers. Nor were men only the objects of this proscription, women also were proscribed by Silla condemning even that unarmed sex, not emulous of his

power, among barbarians inviolate, and which in every other human breast, tends rather to extinguish than inflame, the spirit of cruelty.

ERRATA. Page 217, col. 1, line 18, for spirit read spirits-page 218, col. 2, line 15, for prescriptions read proscriptionspage 219, col. I, line 3 and 19, for Comitiæ read Comitia-ibid, line 14, for Agragrian read Agrarian.

(To be continued.)

To the Editor of the European Magazine.

SIR,

I like by of visiting AM a country gentleman, influenced

the metropolis occasionally, to behold its wonders, or to seek its advantages of improvement; and have long been rambling from place to place and revelling in a variety of pleasure from which I have felt unwilling to depart :-I soon found so many opportunities of acquiring intelligence, and so extensive a range of character, that I felt surprised that any rational being conld seclude himself in the country and waste his life in barren solitude. The charms of nature were soon driven from my mind, and each day supplied new objects to attach me to such diversified exhibitions of society-1 had no longer to derive pleasure from the expectations of periodical amusements, or from stated visits; on every side my senses were courted, and I soon concluded that maxim to be just, which attributes to variety, the happiness of life. You will easily imagine that the vehemence of my pleasure gradually abated, and that I discovered what is always learned, that we are elated to be depressed, and depressed to be elated. The great causes of calamity are familiar to us all, and particular accidents commonly intervene to complete and to vary the measure of human misery.

That of which I have, however, to complain, is a subject sufficiently known; but I am at a loss to conceive whether it has operated with similar severity upon others; it may not easily occur to minds more accustomed to the eccen

tricities of the metropolis, that that which commonly excites redicule, should excite in me melancholy reflections.

Extravagancies are incidental to a nation grown rich by commerce. The lamentation of the moralist has, however, been derided by those who can

perceive only utility to arise from the extension of luxury, and the consequent extension of folly. There are two kinds of folly, one as exposed to the eye, and the other whose nature cannot be known excepting by its effects; the former is capable of operating at all times upon the thinking part of mankind, of exciting either uneasiness or contempt. The latter is only known by enquiry and calculation. In the former is to be included that extreme foppery which is every where so strongly exhibited. It the extravagance to which this inclinais astonishing to consider the extent and

tion has attained, and the countenance prevalence. afforded by the higher orders of life to

its

I have never been known to indulge uncommon notions of sensibility, but willing as I am to restrain my indigna tion, to disregard such despicable ob jects of consideration, I cannot sur mount the sensations which are always agitating my mind. The evil is so general, that contempt becomes no longer a local feeling. Wherever I turn, the grossest objects are presented to my sight; foppery drives me from all recreations but those which I can command at home.

I know that complaint is useless, that remonstrance can never operate publicly upon ignorance and indecency; but, while we leave to time, these objects of our contempt, our efforts may not be in vain; some generous youths may be preserved; higher objects may be nourished; and outward distinction represented only as the refuge of a despicable spirit. I have read, that whenever a man becomes a fop, the stamina of his mind has gone; if this is true, my first hopes of metropolitan intelligence were false, for whether the evil is unexampled or not in its extent, I find it impossible to associate in any company where its influence is not to be observed

I trust that some of your readers, and especially those who are parents, may be awakened to attention, for, however unworthy the appeal, I cannot deem it hopeless; individuals may be animated if the nation cannot be reformed, caution may be dispersed among those who are uncontaminated by custom, or who are not yet hardened in indifference.

I am, Sir,
Your constant reader.

17th Sept. 1818.

J.B.S.

1818.]

EXCURSION TO BRIGHTON, DURING THE MONTH OF JULY 1818: In Four Letters to a Friend in Wales. BY JOHN EVANS, A.M. LETTER III.

VICINITY OF BRIGHTON.

NATURE, enchanting NATURE, in whose form

And lineaments divine, I trace a hand That errs not, and find raptures still renewed,

Is free to ALL men-universal prize!"

COWPER. Islington, Oct. 2, 1818.

MY DEAR SIR,

Brine British Channel, its vicinity RIGHTON lying along the shore

of

must present views of the ocean in an endless variety. And nothing is more interesting, than the contemplation of the mighty waters which, like a girdle encircle the earth! The SEA being three times the extent of land, it is a subject deserving of investigation. Its saltness-its contents-animate and inanimate, together with its alternate changes every twelve hours, have been the topic of profound speculation. Nor have philosophers ceased to interest themselves concerning these matters. The laws of nature are in constant operation, and their invariable energies are productive of that harmony which characterises this terraqueous globe.

BRIGHTON possesses lofty and rugged cliffs, which, seen from afar, become a conspicuous object in the landscape. Walking close to the "wide weltering" waves, the spot has a romantic appearance; and individuals are often seen here at the close of day pacing along at their leisure. Upon such an occasion, musings will spring up in the mind disposed to reflection:

-At my feet the waves Hanging suspended on the curl awhile, Like a coy girl, till others pushed them on, Did bow their pearly coronets to kiss The polished pebbles of a scanty beach. Beneath the rocks, where on a couch of

Individuals strolling along the seashore often amuse themselves by the examination of SEA-WEED, which, however contemptible in its appearance, forms an entertaining portion of natural history. "The aquatic algæ, including the SEA-WEEDS, imbibe all their nourishment through their surface, the roots serving only to fasten them to the bottom; and many of them float about in the water without being attached to any solid body. They constitute a very large tribe. Of the sea-weeds,

some are used for food, and all are of great importance to the farmers for manuring land. In the islands of Jura rack, often serves as winter food for and Skye, the bladder-focus, or sea

In

the cattle, which regularly go down to the shores when the tide is out to eat it; even the deer have been observed to come from the mountains to feed upon this plant. Linnæus says, that the inhabitants of Gothland in Sweden boil this fucus in water, and feed their hogs with it, mixed with meal. Scandinavia, the poor people thatch their cottages with it! But one of the most important purposes to which this sea-weed is applied, in common with many other species, is the preparation of help, which is a principal ingredient in the manufacture of SOAP. The size that some of the larger kind of seaweeds attain, and the rapidity of their growth are truly wonderful. The gigantic fucus is said to extend often to the length of 1000 or 1500 feet; and it grows in such profusion, that the masses of it resemble islands! In the ATLANTIC, PACIFIC, and INDIAN OCEANS, there are vast tracts of sea-weed, one of which has been called by naviga tors the Grassy sea, from its great extent. The entire surface in such places, is literally covered with these plants; and ships, on their voyages, are several days in passing through them!"

From the East and the West Cliffs, the Sea is beheld to advantage. Pedestrians and equestrians, as well as carriages of every construction, are on a fine day passing without intermission. On the EAST CLIFF the appearance is somewhat tremendous. Through the restiveness of the animals, vehicles have been driven against the railing, and, tumbling over the precipice, dashed to pieces; Happily no lives were lost, but almost miraculous hath been their preservation.

But we must attempt to describe the Vicinity of Brighton.

The first object entitled to notice is, the MINERAL WELL, at the distance of about a mile west of the town, and to be found in a sequestered situation. The walk to it across the fields is agreeable, having on the left a full view of the ocean! You pass through cornfields, at this season rapidly maturing for the sickle, and therefore a delicious object of contemplation! You come upon the WELL rather suddenly, but it is not in itself an unpleasing sight, and generally enlivened by company. glass of the water is brought you by a female, for which you pay six-pence; this is the only tax upon your curiosity.

A

The Spring is covered by a neat building, and its chalybeate qualities are beneficial in cases of indigestion and of general debility. Invalids subscribe for the season. The water has the taste of the spring at Tunbridge Wells.

At the back of the WELL is a small wood of Druidical appearance, which imparts a solemnity to the spot.

Not far distant is a little piece of water, where the angler is seen occasionally inveigling the finny prey. Perch and roach, the usual fish found in such rural recesses, are taken here. My pupils, at least some of them, frequented this little pond with their rods; but they were soon mortified when warned off as private property. Upon the presentation of a humble petition from one of the young gentlemen (a native of Gibraltar) liberty was kindly granted by the proprietor to fish there in the evening. Sometimes there was tolerable sport, and of course our table was enriched by a piscatory repast for the subsequent day.

From the Well we cross down towards the sea, and walk back along the beach to Brighton. The land lying low, the surges of the OCEAN in the winter roll tumultuously towards the shore. After violent storms the beach is seen strown with melancholy vestiges of the tempest; but even these sad relics may be rendered conducive to moral improvement.

A broken rudder drifted o'er,

Had found its place upon the sand, From where the VESSEL, now no more, Was wrecked upon a foreign strand! Fancy may rouse her busy train,

And paint the storm in horrid view; Of the sad widow's fate complain,

As well as mourn the hapless crew!

So oft is told this tale of woe, So oft the danger of the seas, That if the tears of pity flow,

They're scattered by the lightest breeze! But who observes the broken state,

Of what was once the VESSEL'S guide,
Must think too on the wretched fate,
To which humanity's allied!
Unseen in all the pompous course
Of the proud galley's prosperous sail,
Is the small helm that lends its force
In adverse, or in friendly gale!
And mark too in this rudder's lot,
That lies unown'd unheeded by,
The fate of services forgot,

And wasted in their rich supply!
Here may we trace the fallen power

Till in an unpropitious hour,
Of HIM who propp'd the tottering state;

He saw in frowns the monarch's hate!
The broken WARRIOR here we view,
With years and wounds and scars alone;
Bereft of all for service due,

Tho' bright his day of glory shone! Or bent with years THE HOARY SAGE, In penury may reach the tomb, Whose precepts in life's early stage,

Dispelled the mist of error's gloom! In every state of life we trace

Some broken relic in decay,

Though gifted once with every grace,
Now useless, scattered, thrown away!

D.

The little rural village of PRESTON is the next object claiming our attention-a pleasant walk of two short miles from Brighton. It is thought to contain near 40 houses, and about 200 inhabitants. In approaching it, you pass along a road overshadowed by the foliage of large and lofty trees, which imparts the pleasing sensation of your being immersed in the depths of the country! You enter the village by a toll gate, on which are inscribed the usual, though unnecessary, and to some ungracious, expressions of, No Trust! Good roads are so great a blessing, that few grumble paying ready money on such an occasion; for the traveller is ever bent on reaching the end of bis journey. One Inn, the CROWN AND ANCHOR, greets you with its cheerful front, assuring you of entertainment for man and beast throughout the revolving seasons of the year, without a single exception. Here we rested one fine summer's evening, cyder and biscuit constituting our wholesome refreshment, with the sight of the Sussex Paper, yielding us both intelligence and amusement