* rity-as the husband of the adultress cut off her hair in the presence of her relations, stripped her almost naked, turned her out of his house, and whipped her from one end of the village to the other. A woman who had been thus exposed never recovered her character; and neither youth, beauty, nor riches could ever procure her another husband. Though it must be coufessed, through the imprudent zeal of the clergy, they carried the virtue of continency to a greater height than the laws of nature and the good of society will admit, they were very much attached to their families and relations, which they often carried beyond due bounds, by forming combinations of family interests often injurious to the public peace. Education. The mothers at first nursed their own children; but this laudable practice, so sacred amongst the ancient Britons and Romans, became so trenched on after their conversion to christianity, that Pope Gregory, in his letter to St. Augustine, says, "A certain wicked custom hath arisen among married people, that some ladies had refused to nurse their own children whom they have brought forth, but deliver them to other women to be nursed."+ But whether nursed by the mothers or by proxy, they educated their children from their earliest infancy in hardiness and courage; which were the principal means of supporting them, and leading them to honours. One of their methods of education is said to be as follows: Upon a certain day appointed for the purpose, the family and friends being assembled, the father placed his infant son on the slanting side of the roof of his house, and there left him: if the child began to cry, and appeared to be afraid of falling, the spectators were much dejected, and prognosticated he would be a coward; but if he clung boldly to the thatch, and discovered no marks of fear, they were transported with joy, and pronounced he would prove a slouthorce, that is, a brave and accomplished warrior. Divorce. Though the ties of marriage were, at first, esteemed very sacred and invio * Tacitus. + Bede's Ecclesiastic. Hist. lable, it cannot be denied that voluntary The laws of Wales particularly permitted a man to repudiate his wife, not only for adultery, but for such indecent behaviour as shewed a disposition to adultery; and the same laws allowed a woman to separate from her husband, without forfeiting her dowry, for an unsavoury breath. - Ibid. (To be continued.) ESSAY On the ART of GETTING DRUNK. the Manner of Goldsmith." HAT a gentleman should always THA be sober when he is drunk, is a maxim among the most accomplished bloods of the present day; who, to do them justice, are at any rate more deliberate in vice, and serious in wickedness, than their predecessors. They are no longer the same genus with the noisy, riotous, watch-beating bucks, famed, in and about the purlieus of Covent-garden, half a century ago; for in the old school the system of sober drunkenness was unknown. is true, that the gentleman of those days used to drink as many bottles of wine as our present heroes; but then he was always described as sallying forth from the tavern "reeling ripe for sport," the natural consequence of the copious libations he had taken: he scorned any deception; he was always so candidly drunk, that every one knew it as well as himself. It When we recollect, however, the ab- ' surdities and bestialities of drunken men, we must acknowledge, that there is something admirable in that absolute command over the disordered senses which can keep them as it were under the hatches, and make them subservient to propriety and good manners. The finished blood of the present times, when be retires from the coffee house (for taverns there are very few), never reels; no, he has too much dignity to stagger. As he is always too stately and proud to be jocose or familiar when sober, the sullen, sulky selfishness of his character is preserved even when he is in a state of inebriety. It would be, indeed, extremely difficult for any one who has had the misfortune to be excluded from the elegant society of the present day to discover whether a gentleman is or is not tipsy; he looks just as sour and solemn in one case as in the other; his conversation, the little he does condescend to use, is exactly the same, as dry and unintelligent; he holds too his head just as high. It is true, that he may stare a little more, for the excitability of the wine gives a roundness and perfection to the organs, yet all is elegant and proper; the eye has its fire and consequence correspondent with the fierté belonging to a man of rank; the good-humoured rolly-polly which gave the appearance of twinkling stars to those organs, is no more; nor are the round chubby cheeks of the English gentleman or citizen to be seen flushed with liquor a gentleman now is not tipsy; the man has quite another mind; and having no humour but ill humour, the face, the index of the mind, refers to nothing common or vulgar. It is very well known, that there is not any thing which accelerates the work of drunkenness more than the getting convivial. Now no one will pretend to say, that there is any thing convivial about a modern gentleman; nothing chatty, nothing funny, it is very vulgar to be funny, and much too familiar to be happy with any one; it is the fashion to be very sulky when sober, and a gentleman is only more sulky when he is drunk. On a fair and candid consideration of the subject, drinking, as it is used now, extraordinary as it may appear, only makes a man more steady in his pursuits: and whether this methodical drunkenness resembles the ancient art as among the Grecians (for drinking was a fashionable vice in Greece), I will not pretend to say; but it certainly does resemble the drunkenness of the Scandinavians, among whom to be able to hold much liquor was reputed an heroic virtue. As far as respects the ancient English, the fact is notorious. Hollingshed, who wrote towards the end of the sixteenth century, observes, that "among the ancient English, claret and French wines were despised, and strong wines only in request;" and William of Malmsbury, who, according to Lord Kaimes, wrote in the days of King Henry II. says, that "the English were universally addicted to drunkenness, continuing over their cups day and night, keeping open house, and spending the income of their estates in riotous feasts, where eating and drinking were carried to excess, without any elegance." According to the above quoted authorities, the art of drunkenness has since improved; for now the work is completed at the tables of men of fashion with much elegance. However, thus far I am ready to admit, that though an Englishman may differ with the different ages in his manner of getting drunk, yet, notwithstanding, an Englishman must, somehow or other, get drunk. The French of the vieille cour were unacquainted with drunkenness. Their wines were light, drank only at dinner, and followed by coffee and liqueurs. Perhaps with the revolution, which settled the volatility and abated the gayety of the French nation, the more steady and regular system of English drinking may have been introduced; but, after all, I really do not think that a FRENCHMAN can drink as much at a sitting as an ENGLISHMAN. It must be extremely flattering to the people of the united kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, that at length they have brought the art of drinking to perfection; for it has now become a science pure in its elements (supposing the wine to have been good), and perfect in theory and practice. An English gentleman does not, as formerly, take the bottle by storm; no, he takes it by approaches: or his entertainment of getting drunk is rather á regular drama; the potasis, which proceeds very little into the action; the epitasis, where we see something promising; the calastasis, where the business thickens; and the denouement, in which the effect is kept up until the dropping, or, rather, the drawing of the curtain. It would be to the advantage of some of the speculating authors of the present day, to get up a book in royal octavo, to be called,THEART OF GETTING DRUNK, as practised by Gentlemen; among the general rules may be the following: First, That the novice is to put himself into training the whole morning for the attack, by having a good lunch, and eating moderately at dinner. Secondly, That he is to take time be tween the glasses of compliment at dinner, and not to drink with more than twenty persons. Thirdly, That he is to say little or nothing during dinner, as is now the ton. Fourthly, That the novice is not to put his understanding to the rack on any subjects of intelligence or information, as the labour of thinking may increase the pulsation. Fifthly, if he sees any of the company inclined to mirth, or to be noisy, he is only to stare. Sixthly, If the novice feels himself inclined to be merry, he must think how vulgar it is, by which means he will check the propensity. Seventhly, That in all cases of a disposition to be friendly or familiar, he inust call his pride to his assistance, which he may generally trust to, to deliver him at the instant. Eighthly, He must, during the whole sitting after dinner, constantly bear in mind the advantageous position he will have in society, by being able to say, that he can take four bottles, and walk away perfectly cool. Ninthly, If the novice, after drink ing three or four bottles, finds himself a little confused, he had better (as it is the ton to go now without taking leave) drive to one of the theatres to have a little sleep. Had such a work as the above been in publication, there might have becn hopes that my friend BILL Muzzy, who was born a gentleman, would have become a polished drinker; instead of which, although he was always drunk, he could never drink a little wine ever put my friend Muzzy into that state of stupidity in which he remained for a day or two afterwards, and, as far as a proper insensibility, he was near being a master of the art; but unfortunately Muzzy, when he got drunk, always got vulgar with it; he was both coarse and comical; two things entirely derogatory to a drunken gentleman, If BILL Muzzy was drunk, he could never discriminate, and he would just as soon go into a public-house as into a coffee-room, and drink brandy and water as soon as port or claret. After dining, one day, with a party at Stevens's, in Bond-street, Muzzy took it into his head that he would walk home man. Muzzy insisted, that he did not know that he had offended the watch; but if he had, he was willing to make them amends. A broken lantern, which had remained in that state for more than two years, that it might be repaired, every now and then, by valiant drinkers, was produced, with a dreadful fracture in its face: the evidence was complete; and poor Muzzy was compelled to give the justice's clerk a draft on his banker for two guineas, to compromise the business. How happy would it have been for my poor friend Muzzy, who was really a promising drinker, if he had known Colonel Buz, of the royal horse guards. The colonel was the most steady and accomplished drunkard I had ever the honour of knowing; he could sit and drink glass after glass, like a wine-merchant, at a coffee-house annual dinner of the trades people, who swallows the best of his own wine for one day, that the worst may be drank by others for the rest of the year. There are some people, however, in the world, of very promising talents and good manners, who, during their whole lives, are never able to get over a squeamish objection to drink, and are thus shut out for ever from society. Such a one was my friend TOM NEGUS, who had acquired some of the most elegant dissipations of the town: for instance, he kept a gig and a straw bonnet; but Tox could not drink, which marred all the rest of his accomplishments, and blurred the brilliancy of his character. Tox, if he attempted to drink like a gentleman, always got under the table, was carried home, and was the next day so sick and sorry, that every body pitied the penitent; but it was mere, constitution against inclination: to do him justice, he had the most ardent desire of drinking, if his constitution would have let him indulge it, like a coward who would fain fight if he dare. Tox has attended many drinking lectures, and has repeated many of the experiments in the doctrine of fluids, but in vain; Tom could never drink wine without wishing it was water: and such was his horror of the dose, that though he knew that it was necessary to his credit in society, he could never altogether overcome his aversion. It would have been impracticable for Colonel Buz himself to have made any thing of Tow; for after drinking, poor Tow was always sick, sorry, sad, and sober, in spite of example and good breeding. it is thus that we daily see, in our intercourse with the world, incapacity and infirmity interfere with the fairest prospects. The man who has genius and talent is, perhaps, buried in obscurity, because he is not able to make a bow, dance a reel, drink his wine, swear, or fight like a gentleman. As it is necessary for a sailor to know how to box the compass, so is it necessary for a man who is to mix in the world to know how to box his way, and be able to keep the impertinent at arm's length; he must not be weak in any part, except the understanding, which is allowed to men of fashion by prescrip tion. How different a character from the last is my friend Captain PATRICK O'RUBY, whose fine scarlet complexion would have done honour to a toper of the old school. O'RUBY is a steady, consistent, systematic drinker; port. champagne, burgundy, or whiskey punch, are alike to my friend PAT. Whenever Captain O'RUBY invites you to dinner, it is always with the fine Hibernian welcome, Come and see me, my dear fellow, and bring yourself along wid you;" and, if accepted, you and yourself are sure to be completely drunk; for O'RUBY considers it as much his duty to make his friends intoxicated. as he would to obey his general in storming a fort, if commanded to do so. But then O'RUBY is so quict and gentlemanly about it, until he has drank three bottles, when he begins to sing and cry alternately, which continues till the grilled turkey and anchovy biscuits come to his relief; when, to the astonishment of his guests, he drinks two bottles more; and, when he secs all his party extinct for the evening, relires to rest, pleased with his prowess, and ready for the next night's entertainment, which is performed with very little alteration or improvement. It is, however, some consolation to the tyro in the art, that, with perseverance, it may be at length attained; and when once arrived at, the knowledge of it is never lost; he will improve hourly, and find it so agreeable and pleasant a system of suicide. that, if he has patience, he will in a very few years end all his cares in this world; without the fear of a stake being driven into his body after his deaise; for no coroner's inquest can be had on one who has died dead drunk: he may have forgot when he died; but Charon knows his men, and pursues his business. G. B. A few THOUGHTS on EDUCATION. "RAIN up a child in the way he should go," said the wisest man that the world ever produced; and the universal consent of succeeding ages proves the necessity of attending to this precept. When the mind is yet in its infant state, and, like wax, readily receives every impression, the greatest care is necessary to remove from it every thing that is hurtful, and render it familiar to those objects only whence it may derive benefit and improvement; or, as Juvenal has it, Maxima debetur pucro reverentia Nil dictu fædum nil visu limina tangat : The excellent code of laws which Solon introduced at Athens, with those of the Spartan lawgiver, have been deservedly the wonder and admiration of every one: the wisdom of these wise regula tions has been firmly demonstrated by the length of time they continued in force, and the good effects they produced in Sparta they flourished in full vigour for seven hundred years, and at Athens for the space of four centuries: in these we shall see, that the education of youth was the leading feature. The Greeks, Romans, and Persians were particularly attentive to the bringing up of their children: and so long as they adhered to this salutary line of conduct, they were invincible to their enemies; but this once neglected, Juxury, intemperance, and a crowd of consequent vices crept in; the love of liberty, and disdaining to own any master (which their fathers considered as the highest glory, and which they died to support) abated; and at length they sunk the victims of tyranny and oppression. So well convinced of the advantages which a good education confers on its possessor were many illustrious cha racters who lived in the times of the glorious Reformation, that with an unexampled philanthropy, and spirit truly patriotic, they founded those seminaries which will perpetuate their fame to eternity, and where many, who have gained distinguished reputation in the field, the cabinet, or in literary pursuits, days are happily now for ever flown; HYPERCRITICAL REMARKs on Dr. JOHNSON. Χρῆν τι λέγειν σάφεσ, ὦ νικήσετε τον δι -Si tibi vera videntur To the Editor of the European Magazine, SIR, Taid the foundation of their future glory. Εν τοῖσι λόγοισ αντιλέγοντεσ. HEN we consider the influence of Westablished reputation on those who are either indolent or inexperienced in critical inquiry, it will appear an object of importance, that the service which a powerful genius may be the means of rendering to society, should not be depraved by the occurrence of partial error. One of the most evident characteristics of Dr. Johnson's criticism, is the apprehension of his subject in a point of view by far too literal and circumscribed; but on a basis thus gratuitously assumed, he erects a fabric of poignant and valuable axioms, which would possess a still greater de |