fyllable that you have afferted, and a great deal more. If any one, after this, fhould be hardy enough to queftion your veracity, you have only to make use of

my name.

1

The immediate bufinefs of my miffion, however, obliged me to turn my eyes directly under me. The Allied Army began a furious bombardment of Lifle. Although I was fo high in the air, I could diftinctly hear the screams of the women in the town; but this is not at all furprifing, when we confider how much found afcends. Thefe fereams, however, and the fongs of Ca Ira, were foon drowned by the noise of the cannonading, both of the armies without, and the fortrefs within. In the midst of the fmoke, I could diftinctly perceive 10,000 French lying dead in the streets. As a great fearcity of cannon-balls took place in the garrifon, the troops, with great prefence of mind, cut off the heads of the flain to fupply their place; but thefe being ftill infufficient, a guillotine was fet to work, to prepare heads for that purpose. At this time one of the engineers in the town having difcovered me, placed a 42 pounder perpendicular, and fired it right at me. The fhot took effect, it went right through the balloon, and proceeded on till it ftuck in aftar. This I diftinctly faw while I was falling, having fortunately my glafs in my hand. It was a lucky circumftance for me, that by this time they had piled up the dead bodies in the town in a heap, which was at least a mile high-as I fell upon them, I was not at all hurt.

I now expected to be made a prifoner, and was congratulating myself that it was no worse, when moft fortunately the befiegers forced their way into the town. The Auftrian troops now took an ample revenge on the garrifon. They killed every foul in the place, except one old woman, who was faved as ā living witness of the valour of the befiegers. On muftering

muftering the troops of the allies, we had the pleafing fatisfaction to find, that the only men killed were, two horse, a trumpet, and a drum.

You will no doubt receive exaggerated accounts of this glorious action; what I have sent you, you may depend on, as I had a better opportunity than any perfon, from my fituation, to fee the whole. And as I fhall fend this exprefs by a pigeon, you may, with great propriety, boast of the fuperiority and priority of your intelligence.

We now only wait the arrival of the Duke of Brunswick, to march against Paris, which is to be razed to the ground, and all the inhabitants guillotined, a full account of which you will receive in my next. I beg my best respects to your worthy coadjutors, and I am, my dear Sir, yours very fincerely,

THE

THE BARON MUNCHAUSEN.

A PICTURE OF HIGH LIFE.

[From the Morning Chronicle.]

THE APPOINTMENT.

HE Honourable Charles Wildflor, to whofe gallantry a series of conquefts have given an air of eafe, not rifing to confidence, but not embarraffing its object by timidity, obferved the interefting Caroline, at the Countess of Crib's rout, held unpleasantly under the eye of her Chaperon. She could not turn without being watched, nor talk to any one of the beaux that fluttered round her, without having her words liftened to and treasured. Charles faw the fparks of itifled paffion flashing from her eye. There is nothing, he knew, which fo thoroughly vexes the female heart, as the control that disappoints opportunity. The Chaperon was her husband's fifter, who had by the marriage loft what, to a heart which age had confirmed in youthful avarice,

avarice, was truly important-the profitable place of fuperintendant of his houfehold; and fhe had now funk into the office which fafhion, in this country, prevents even jealousy from executing for itself-of companion to her filter-in-law. Charles fancied that he faw Caroline looking wiftfully around the gay circle for a knight fufficiently chevalerefque to relieve her, by bravery or ftratagem, from her bondage; and for fuch an adventure he felt a prompt alacrity. A quick fpirit fuggefted to him, in an inftant, the means of an introduction at once unfufpected and recommendatory: he whispered his friend George Driver to bruth the old woman, and contrive to disorder her drefs. George fwore an American oath, that he would dock the harridan; and, with a precipitancy that might have betrayed the purpofe, he trod on her crape train, and turning harp round, under the pretence of an apology for the accident, tore the gauze completely out of its gathers.

Charles feized the happy moment of her vexation, and ingratiated himfelf in the old woman's favour, by the gentlemanly intereft which he took in her misfortune, and the feverity with which he rebuked George for his clumfinefs. He entered into converfation with Caroline; and, while the old woman was venting her fpleen on the monfter, and putting her drefs into fome order, he candidly whispered Caroline, that, diftracted by love, he had contrived the incident for the purpose of throwing his heart at her feet. A half-formed frown, which he was directing against him, was turned into a fmile, on fecing the air of piteous fupplication that he had thrown into his features.

"You are a moft impudent fellow, Mr. Wildflor, to have the confidence to fufpect that fuch conduct fhould be pleasant to me!"

"I am not fo impudent as to believe that the tendernefs of your heart will permit you to fee even juf

tice

tice inflicted on her, who gives you, if I suspect right, many irkfome moments.'

66

And pray, Sir," faid Caroline, kindling at the. unexpected difcovery, how do you know that the makes my moments irkfome?"

"From the means which my paffion has prompted me to use for the fake of difcovery-means which nothing but paffion could justify."

"I beg your pardon, Sir; I did not suspect you to be an eaves-dropper!"

At this moment the old woman returned from the mirror, to which the had gone to adjuft her drefs; while Charles felt abafhed at the unpromifing outfet of his affair.

"Did you ever," faid the old lady, "fee any thing fo fhocking as my accident?-I am quite a fright! But I am fure, Mr. Wildflor, I am very much indebted to you for the very kind intereft you took in my misfor

tune.

"Yes," faid Caroline, with a malicious fmile, "and you are more indebted to the gallantry of Mr. Wildflor than you are aware."

"What!" exclaims Charles: "Good God! my dear Madam-I chtreat you :-pray, think no mɔre of it!-Obliged to me!-not at all-not at all." And, turning to Caroline, he whifpered-" Why, in the name of Heaven !. you will not tell her; will you ?” "The gallantry of Mr. Wildflor is proverbial: but how am I farther obliged to him?"

"You are not obliged to me at all," faid Charles haftily: "I beg we may go and look at the tables." "Indeed you thall not :-1 ani determined my fifter fhall hear how much fhe is indebted to you."

Charles gave himself up, and the old woman made' a curt fey in anticipation. Caroline enjoyed the dilemma, and prolonged it by an elegant compliment on

2

the

the graceful modefty which glowed fo vifibly on his cheek.

line,

"Do you know, my dear fifter," continues Carothat Mr. Wildflor fays he faw your picture at Mr. Cofway's, and that he thinks it a moft faithful' and elegant likenefs."

Mrs. Sourcrout made him one of the most complaifant of her bows, to which he, his heart filled with the happiness of Caroline's unlooked-for furrender, was utterly unable to attend; and, making his obedience to the old lady, he ejaculated—

"Charming Caroline, I fhall hope to meet you.

there."

MR. EDITOR,

WE

E have feveral Tranflations of Horace; but none that I have seen appear to do the author juftice. There is in Horace a grace, a delicacy, a livelinefs, a fulness of expreffion, and a harmony of verfification, that at once captivate the ear and the heart. I need not explain to you how far fhort of ̈· thefe excellencies our tranflators in general have fallen. Having myfelf ftudied this poet with uncommon attention, I have, with all my might, endeavoured to ' preferve thefe qualities in my verfion, of which I fend you the enclofed Ode as a fpecimen. If you judge it to have lefs merit than the partial parent believes, you will ftill allow it, I hope, to foar above the common flights of modern poetry. It is not heavy as lead, like Mr.; nor dull as ditch-water, like Anna Matildaţi nor mad as a March-hare, like our prefent excellent Laureat; nor ftupid-- but I fhould never make an end, if I went on with any comparifons. If this fample takes, I mean to publish a translation of the whole by fubfcription: it will be printed on wirewove paper, and hot-preffed--not to exceed two vo