for the last five or six years, was one of the most entertaining and instructive companions that ever man was blessed with: for his mind comprehended almost every science; he was a most attentive observer of life and manners; a master of classical learning; and he possessed an exuberance of wit and humour, a force of understanding, and a correctness and delicacy of taste, beyond any other person of his age whom I have ever known. He was taken ill in the night of the thirtieth of November, 1789; and from that time his decline commenced. It was long what physicians call a nervous atrophy; but towards the end of June, symptoms began to appear of his lungs being affected. Goats' milk, and afterwards asses' milk, were procured for him in abundance; and such exercise as he could bear, he regularly took. These means lengthened his days, no doubt, and alleviated his sufferings, which, indeed, were not often severe. But, in spite of all that could be done, he grew weaker and weaker, and died on the nineteenth of November, 1790, without complaint or pain, with. out even a groan or a sigh; retaining to the last moment the use of his rational faculties. He lived twenty-two years and thirteen days. Many weeks before death came, he saw it approaching; and he met it with such composure and pious resignation as may, no doubt, be equalled, but cannot be surpassed. He has left many things in writing, serious and humorous, scientific and miscellaneous, prose and verse, Latin and English; but it will be a long time before shall be able to harden my heart so far as to revise them. I have the satisfaction to know that every thing has been done for him that could be done; and every thing according to the best medical advice that Scotland could afford. For the last five months, I kept in my family a young medical friend, who was constantly at hand; and from the beginning to the end of my son's illness, I was always either by him or within call. From these circumstances, your grace will readily believe that I derive no little satisfaction. But my chief comfort arises from reflecting on the particulars of his life, which was one uninterrupted exercise of piety, benevolence, filial affection, and, indeed, of every virtue which it was in his power to practise. I shall not, with respect to him, adopt a mode of speech which has become too common, and call him my poor son: for I must believe that he is infinitely happy, and that he will be so for ever. May God grant every blessing to your grace, your family, and all your friends! The Duke of Gordon has done me the honour, according to his wonted and very great humanity, to write me a most friendly and sympathetic letter on this occasion. I have the honour to be, &c. JAMES BEATTIE. The Hon, Horace Walpole to R. West, Esq. DEAR WEST, ONE hates writing descriptions that are to be found in every book of travels; but we have seen something to-day that I am sure you never read of, and perhaps never heard of. Have you ever heard of the subterraneous town? a whole Romar. town, with all its edifices, remaining under ground? Don't fancy the inhabitants buried it there to save it from the Goths: they were buried with it them selves, which is a caution we are not told they ever took. You remember, in Titus's time, there were several cities destroyed by an eruption of Vesuvius, attended with an earthquake. Well, this was one of them, not very considerable, and then called Herculaneum. Above it has since been built Portici, about three miles from Naples, where the king has a villa. This under-ground city is, perhaps, one of the noblest curiosities that ever has been discovered. It was found out by chance about a year and a half ago. They began digging; they found statues; they dug further; they found more. Since that, they have made a very considerable progress, and find continually. You may walk the compass of a mile; but, by the misfortune of the modern town being overhead, they are obliged to proceed with great caution, lest they destroy both one and t'other. By this occasion, the path is very narrow, just wide enough and high enough for one man to walk upright. They have hollowed as they found it easiest to work, and have carried their streets not exactly where were the ancient ones, but sometimes before houses, sometimes through them. You would imagine that all the fabrics were crushed together: on the contrary, except some columns, they have found all the edifices standing upright in their proper situation. There is one inside of a temple quite perfect, with the middle arch, two columns, and two pilasters. It is built of brick, plastered over, and painted with architecture: almost all the insides of the houses are in the same manner; and what is very particular, the general ground of all the painting is red. Besides this temple, they make out very plainly an amphitheatre: the stairs, of white marble, and the eats, are very perfect; the inside was painted in the same colour with the private houses, and great part cased with white marble. They have found, among other things, some fine statues, some human bones, some rice, medals, and a few paintings, extremely fine. These latter are preferred to all the ancient paintings that have ever been discovered. We have not seen them yet, as they are kept in the king's apartment, whither all these curiosities are transplanted; and 'tis difficult to see them; but we shall. I forgot to tell you that in several places the beams of the houses remain, but burnt to charcoal; so little damaged that they retain visibly the grain of the wood, but, upon touching, crumble to ashes. What is remarkable, there are no other marks or appearances of fire but what are visible on these beams. There might certainly be collected great light from this reservoir of antiquities, if a man of learning had the inspection of it; if he directed the working, and would make a journal of the discoveries. But I believe there is no judicious choice made of directors. There is nothing of the kind known in the world: I mean a Roman city entire of that age, and that has not been corrupted with modern repairs. Besides scrutinizing this very carefully, I should be inclined to search for the remains of the other towns that were partners with this in the general ruin. "Tis certainly an advantage to the learned world that this has been laid up so long. Most of the discoveries in Rome were inade in a barbarous age, where they only ransacked the ruins in quest of treasure, and had no regard to the form and being of the building, or to * Pompeii was not then discovered. any circumstances that might give light into its use and history. I shall finish this long account with a passage which Gray has observed in Statius, and which directly pictures out this latent city: Hæc ego Chalcidicis ad te, Marcelle, sonabam Adieu, my dear West, and believe me yours ever. Lady Mary W. Montague to the Lady R. Hanover, Oct. 1, O. S. 1716. It is I AM very glad, my dear Lady Rthat you have been so well pleased, as you tell me, at the report of my returning to England; though, like other pleasures, I can assure you it has no real foundation. I hope you know me enough to take my word against any report concerning me. true, as to distance of place, I am much nearer to London than I was some weeks ago; but as to the thoughts of a return, I never was farther off in my life. I own, I could with great joy indulge the pleasing hopes of seeing you and the very few others that share my esteem; but while Mr. W– is determined to proceed in his design, I am determined to follow him. I am running on upon my own affairs-that is to say, I am going to write These things I sung to you, Marcellus, on the Chalcidian shores, where Vesuvius, in its wrath, emulates the fires of Etna. Will the future race of men, when these forest-fields shall again be green with corn, believe that cities and their inhabitants are buried beneath them? |