fecurity, is the good faith with which they fhould condu& themselves in all their tranfactions with the country governments. For, though the Indians be prone to chicanery and deceit, they are said to be great admirers of the contrary character in others.

Our author obferves, that nothing has been fo loudly exclaimed against as the introduction of English laws into the Bengal provinces. This, however, he believes, has proceeded more from a disappointment of interested views, than from a conviction of any pernicious confequences that they are likely to produce.

•No man of reason, fays he, poffeffing a perfonal knowlege of the manners and cuftoms of Hindoftan, can honestly declare, he believes the English laws improper to be introduced into that country. Prejudice, indeed, may operate powerfully on fome who have been educated in all the principles of Afiatic defpotifm, who have ruled over provinces with an arbitrary fway, and whofe words have been law; but a difpaffionate enquirer, who judges with moderation, and who fees the neceffity of coercion in a country where common juftice hath been trampled under foot, not only by fome of the English themselves, but univerfally by their fervants and dependents, will unhefitatingly confefs, that the rod of legal authority cannot but be ferviceable in withholding the hand of oppreffion, and enfuring to the honeft labourer the fcanty reward of his industry and trouble. This, it is faid, has never been denied him. But what is more liable to mifreprefentation than an unfettled ftate, where all dominion, after the confufion of fucceffive revolutions, is transferred to a few ftrangers, and where the conquerors, living under their own laws of freedom, amidst a nation of helpless and unprotected beings, exhibit a fituation almoft without parallel in history ?'

This intelligent author obferves, that the prefent mode of letting the lands in India is attended with many inconveniences, independently of the difadvantages which refult from their unequal diftribution. Some zemindars, he remarks, unwilling to relinquish their habitations, are often induced to exceed the real value of farms, if their leafe is but for a fhort term of years. The zemindar, at the fame time, even though poffeffed of the ability, cannot, with fafety to his own interefts, encourage the inferior farmers by advancing them money;

and without this advance, the lands cannot receive that cultivation which, with a longer leafe, or the abfolute poffeffion, the occupiers would be enabled to bestow.

We cannot conclude our review of this Analyfis witho obferving, that Mr. Sulivan appears to write with great impartiality; that he discovers an extenfive knowlege of the po

litics of India; and that he has fuggefted to the company very important and rational hints both for the defence and improvement of their territories.

This work was first printed in 1779.

A Tour through Parts of England, Scotland, and Wales, in 1778. In a Series of Letters. By Richard Jofeph Sulivan, Efq. The Second Edition, corrected and enlarged. In Two Volumes. 8vo. IOS. 6d. in Boards. Becket.

TH

HE first edition of this Tour, which appears to have derived its origin from a generous ardour for literary amusement, was published a few years ago. The nature of the work induces us to imagine, that it had been occafionally compofed during the hours of relaxation from travelling, and confequently without that exertion of mind, of which this ingenious author is evidently capable. The prefent edition, however, though containing nearly the fame account of the Tour as formerly, is not a little increased by the embellishments of fentiment and obfervation; and confidering that a great part of what it defcribes was before familiar to us, from the account of Mr. Pennant, we must acknowlege that we have received far greater pleasure in the perufal, than might have been expected under fuch circumftances. Before we proceeded farther than the first Letter, we were convinced, from Mr. Sulivan's remarks, that he is perfectly well acquainted with the art of travelling to advantage. Nor is it a circumftance unworthy of attention, that while he difcovers much knowlege of the world, it has not effaced that virtuous fenfibility, which is too liable to abatement from an extensive commerce with mankind.

In giving an account of Eton College, our author makes a digreffion on the comparative advantages of a private and a public education. This fubject having been much agitated, affords little room for any new obfervation; but, in the following quotation, Mr. Sulivan has contrafted the different opinions in a juft point of view.

The vast number of great men which not only Eton, but the other public feminaries of learning in this country, have produced, hath often led me to the long difputed point, of which should have the preference, a public or a private education. To many men the advantages of a public fchool are demonftratively evident; but much, as in moft cafes, may be advanced on both fides. Public schools, as fociety now is regulated, are certainly poffeffed of many recommendatory effentials in the point of education. The mafters fought after for them are generally men of the firft abilities: the diet of the

8

pupils

pupils is carefully attended to, and their learning is lefs neglected, than the number of boys, and the variety of their taTents, would at first give one. reafon to apprehend. A private. tutor, undoubtedly, has it in his power to give more attention to his fcholar's education than the mafter of a large academy. He can watch over the progrefs of the understanding, and, by, conftant care, can take advantage of every effort of the mind, and turn it by culture to its proper end. The morals too he has rigidly under his infpection. The feeds of goodness, therefore, planted in fuch manner in the breaft, must bring forth the fairest bloffoms of benignity. Gentleness and truth will irresistibly fix in his pupil's mind the loveliness of focial virtue. The man cannot but fpring up in theoretic perfections but the paffions will have hitherto been filent, because they will not have had fufficient objects to ftimulate them to action.

Could human nature be brought to that degree of relative goodness, which it is natural to fuppofe it never did, nor ever will poffefs, but in the abftrufe and fine-fpun opinions of a few philofophers, a private education would indifputably be beft; but as a man is the fame that he probably was four thousand years ago, and as the active paffions may properly be called the elements of life, fomething more general is required than what can poffibly be imbibed from the instruction of any one perfon, at once both the mafter and companion. Moreover, a too-close application, without the neceflary recreations, is too apt to imprefs a boy with a difguft to fludy when he is freed from the dominion of a tutor, or, what is worfe, to enamour him with books, and thereby to ruin his health, and otherwife to deprive him of thofe comforts which nature intended he should enjoy.

On the other hand, the man who has been early fent to fchool, on his first going there, enters into a world in miniature, fimilar to the one in which he is afterwards doomed to move. The whole circle of the paffions is there to combat and be combated with. Love, hatred, jealoufy, revenge, ambition, courage, cowardice, in short, all the mott oppolite fentiments of the human heart, are there to be found in their different degrees. The difpofitions of his fellow-creatures thus come experimentally to be made known to him. He foon perceives the delights of goodnefs, as well as the turpitude of bafenefs. Pride makes him emulate his fuperiors. He feels an exultation in rifing to be foremost of his clafs. His incitements to morality become equally ftrong. Applaufe attends him in every step of his career. Self feels its native dignity, and is pleated in the exertion; he rifes to be a man with a knowlege of books, and, what is of much more confequence, with a knowlege of his fpecies.

In another light, likewife, the advantages of public are apparently infinitely fuperior to thofe of private education. The mingling together draws forth the exertion of children's bodily as well as mental faculties; their nerves in this manner VOL. LX. Nov. 1785.

B b

become

become strong-by feats of ftrength they gradually acquire degrees of courage: their little fpirits become imperceptibly inured to refent an injury, and to protect the oppreffed. Exercife gives an invigorating principle to their fyftem; and they break into the world with health, with fpirit, and with underftanding, fit to encounter the innumerable viciffitudes which are incident to their existence.'

From London, where the traveller commences his journey, he proceeded to Bath, and the more diftant parts of Somerfetfhire and Wiltshire. He next directs his courfe to Bristol, and afterwards to Chepstow, and other places in Wales. Returning thence to Bristol, he vifits Gloucestershire, Worcestershire, and Derbyshire; and shaping his route through Yorkfhire, continues his journey into Scotland; where he has proceeded fo far north as Glamis, Perth, Dunkeld, Taymouth, and Inverary, all which are fituated in nearly the same latitude, about the middle of that part of Great Britain. From Inverary, he returns by Glafgow and Carron to Edinburgh, and thence to Carlisle; from which city he directs his course through different parts of England to London. Without laying before our readers the author's account, however faithful and well described, of places vifited by other travellers, we fhall present them with the narrative of his descent into a cavern in Derbyshire'; a journey which few ever before attempted, and probably few will perform hereafter.

Imagination can fcarcely form a defcent more perilous. The only steps or things to hold by, are bits of oak ftuck into the fides, inhabitants of the place fince it was first discovered, and which, from want of ufe, it was natural to fuppose might have either rotted or loofened themselves in the earth: moreover, a falfe flep hurled one inevitably to deftruction: fortunately all was firm, and we arrived at the bottom unhurt. Here ranging ourselves in order, with a large bundle of candles and torches independent of the candles which each of us carried, we proceeded with tolerable facility through two or three lofty and most beautifully enamelled caverns of ipar. This we con ceived an earnest of future delight, and the tablets were accordingly fet at work; but, alas, how great was our mistake. Here our difficulties were to commence.

Following the guide, who befides another who was with us, was the only one of the party who had ever penetrated before, we forced our way with infinite struggles, through a narrow space, between two rocks, and thence getting on our hands and knees, were, for the full diftance of a mile, obliged to crawl without ever daring to lift up our heads, the paffage being both low and craggy, and as it was likewife filled with mud, dirt, and a multitude of bits of rocks, our progress was painful indeed: we ftill, however, hoped for fomething better.

On

On we accordingly proceeded, till a dreadful noise, rumbling along the horrible crevices of the cave, gave us to understand we were near a river to this then we, as faft as we were able, hurried. But defcripiion is inadequate to any thing like a representation of the scene. A vaft ocean feemed roaring in upon us; in fome places bursting with inconceivable impetuofity, and at others falling through dreadful chasms, burst into fhaggy forms to give it vent: through this our journey was to continue. A cry of light, however, alarmed us: the confinement of the air, and the narrowness of our track, had extinguished all our torches; the candles too, all but one fmall end, were totally expended. We knew not what to do. In vain the min ers hallooo'd for the fupply which was to have come behind; no anfwer was to be heard. Our fate feemed inevitable; but the principals of the party, fortunately, expreffed no fear. In this extremity, a gallant fellow, who yet was ignorant of the place, but from experience knew the danger we were in, fuddenly disappeared, and after groping for a confiderable time în the dark and difmal horrors of the place, at length returned to us with a fupply of candles, having difcovered his companions, unto whom they were given in charge, almost petrified with fear, and unable to follow us from apprehenfion. Reprieved in this manner from a death which feemed to wait us, in its most horrid form, we onward proceeded with fresh recruit of fpirits; and plunging into the river above our waists, scarce tenable from the impetuofity of the torrent, cautiously picked our fteps, and, at length, after a four hours moft unspeakable fatigue, arrived at about three hundred yards beyond the spot, where the fubterranean paffage we had the day before explored, was expected to find an entrance into this dreadful place:

But here we were obliged to ftop; a fall into a yawning gulph, in which I was providentially faved by the corner of a rock catching me by the knee, had hitherto given me an inconceivable degree of pain; but I had not spoke; it now be came scarce bearable; out, however, I was to crawl, and that too upon this tortured limb. The retreat accordingly began; but no anguish could furpass the excess of torment I was in. Often did I wish to remain where I was; no fuccour or affiftance could be given me every man was painfully bufied in the charge of his own fafety. At length, having almoft worn out the other knee, and torn both my fides and back by forcing myself in those pofitions, I was compelled to call out for help, as we happily came to the first opening where I could be raised. Languor and faintnefs from what I had fuffered, had totally deprived me of my ftrength: I was feated on a rock, where I breathed a little freer, and fo refreshed in a few minutes, having collected myfelf as much as poffible, that I tottered through the reft of the cavern, helped where affiftance could be given me, and in that manner got to the blessed funshine of the day.