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188 ANNUAL REGISTER [[2 Columns]] What effect such graceless raptures and broken periods may produce on untutored minds, let ten thousand boarding-schools witness. This contagion is the more to be dreaded, as it daily spreads through all ranks of people; and Miss, the Taylor's daughter, talks now as familiarly to her confident, Miss Polly Staytape, of swains and sentiments, as the accomplished dames of genteel life. In a word, if a man of sense has an inclination to chuse a rational woman for his wife, he reaches his grand climaczeric before he can find a fair-one to trust himself with—so unversal is the corruption!—These are the fatal consequences of novels! ————————————————————————————————————— A Dream. By Voltaire. ON February 18, 1763, the sun being in the sign Pisces, I was translated to heaven, as all my friends very well know. I neither rode on Mahomet's mare, nor yet in the chariot of Elijah; I was neither carried on the elephant of Sommonocodom of the Siamese, nor on the horse of St. George the patron of England, nor yet on St. Anthony's pig. I must own that I went, I do not know how. I was, you may easily suppose, astonished; but, what you will not so easily suppose, I was a spectator of the general judgment, The judges (and I hope you will not be offended whilst I name them) were the principal benefactors of mankind, Confucius, Solon, Socrates, Titus, Antoninus, Epictetus, all glorious men, who, having taught and practiced the virtues that God enjoins, seemed to have a natural right to pronounce his decrees. I shall not take notice on what kind of thrones they were seated, nor how many millions of celestial beings prostrated themselves before the immortal architect of the world, nor what multitudes of inhabitants of their respective globes appeared before the judges: I shall only attend to some particular circumstances which struck me at that time. I observed, that every dead person, who pleaded his cause, had in attendance all the witnesses of his actions. For instance, when the Cardinal of Lorrain boasted, that he made the council of Trent adopt some of his opinions, and demanded eternal life as the reward of his orthodoxy, twenty courtezans immediately appeared round him, bearing on their foreheads the number of their appointments with him. All those too, who were concerned with him in the infamous league, were at hand, all the accomplices of his wicked life. Close by Cardinal Lorrain sat John Calvin, who boasted, in his gross language, that, "he had given the papal idol a griper in the guts." "I have written (said he) against painting and sculpture. I have made it plainly appear, that the works of taste and art are good for nothing; and I have proved, that it is a devilish thing indeed to dance a minuet. Drive out this same damned Cardinal, and place me next to St. Paul." Immediately, as he was speaking, a funeral pile appeared in flames. A dreadful spectre darted from the middle of the fire, with the most hideous shrieks. "Monster, (it cried) execrable monster, tremble! Behold that Servetus whom you robbed of his life by the most horrible For the YEAR 1772. 189 [[2 Columns]] rible tortures, merely because he had disputed with you concerning the mode in which three persons could form one substance." The judges, upon this, ordered, that Cardinal Lorrain should be thrown into the bottomless pit, but that Calvin should be reserved for some severer punishment. I beheld a number of Fakeers, Talapoins, Bonzes, black, white, and grey friars, who all imagined, that, to pay their court to the Supreme Being, it would be necessary to sing and whip themselves, or to go naked.—When these wretches appeared, I heard a dreadful voice crying, "what good have you done to mankind?" This voice was followed by a solemn silence, no one daring to answer. At last I heard the awful sentence of the Supreme Judge of the universe pronounced: "Be it known to the inhabitants of the millions of worlds we have been pleased to create, that we shall never judge them by their opinions, but by their actions; for such is our justice." This was the first time I had seen such an edict. All those I had read on that grain of sand which we inhabit, generally ended with, Such is our pleasure. ————————————————————————————————————— The Man of Pleasure, Number IX. From the Town and Country Magazine. On Conversation. Nil ego contulerim jucundo sanus amico. HOR. To the Man of Pleasure. SIR, IT has been observed by some celebrated writer, that men would come into company with ten times the pleasure they do, if they were sure they should hear nothing that would shock them, and expected what would give them pleasure. Indeed, the art of conversation does not consist so much in being witty, as being willing to promote it. In this traffic of sentiments there should be a reciprocal faith: to dispute a man's veracity because he may have heightened a narrative, to give it more force, or render it more interesting, though it may not amount to an insult in the expression, will necessarily throw a damp upon his spirits, and probably make him suppress many lively sallies, left they should not obtain credit. There are some gloomy mortals who make it a rule never to be pleased; if a jest will bear a double entendre, they are put to the blush with indelicacy; if a story is related, it is news-paper authority; if an anecdote is reported, this is such a scandalous age we live in, that men should not associate together.—With such men, I heartily agree: they imagine they shew their taste and judgment in shewing their displeasure, and are the bane of mirth and antidote of convivality, because they think it beneath their dignity to relish the conversation of those they suppose inferior to them in knowledge and wisdom. On the other hand, a professed wit is the most impertinent being on the face of the earth: he that is for ever laying a plan to lug in a conceit, deserves as constantly to be lugged by the ears. If a jest, or even a pun arises from the conversation, it will not be disagreeable, because it is natural; but the book-hunter, who strings them by the
