1625.] 
zeal even the bosom of a Wilberforce. 
Shenstone, then, was one of injured 
perce gaat advocates: yet, in ‘a 
coll fection’ of “poems, ‘beautifully illus- 
ees ‘on the Bir eclbeaie published a 
_ few ears A bo his was omitted. 
The deli htfal rural’ poet, Bloomfield, 
struck ‘with, the beauty of “The Dying 
Kid,” tells us} in his “Remains,” while 
noticing the similarity of thought ex- 
pressed by different authors, “That he 
was ashamed of his own performance 
on that Subject.” And, at the same time, 
acknowledging that he had not read the 
author’s poems before; which may be 
true, and accountable for only by the de- 
sire which some have expressed to avoid 
imitation, as he must have heard of 
them again and again—especially as the 
ane occurs towards the close of his 
ate. 
Lord Bolingbroke’s sister, Lady Lux- 
borough, in one of her letters to 
Shenstone, confirms Johnson’ S going to 
the Leasowes, by saying, “No enemy 
to you shall eyer find sanctuary in my 
house ; therefore I sent the Abyssinian 
hero, whom you conquered, to remain 
your captive,” &c.—*And his faithful, 
harmless companion accompanies him, 
hoping, with his musical instrument, to 
lull your anger to sleep.” —Query: Is 
not this faithful, harmless companion, 
with his musical’ instrument, Dr. Gold- 
smith himself? 
I have a query or two. more, and I 
will then relinquish the occupation of 
the time and space of your valuable 
journal, which may be more agr eeably 
pg 1 up by abler hands. May not one, 
ér more respectable friends, making a 
ieee ‘from London to Halesowen, 
AW nde ‘to the gardens and 
grounds of ‘the Beasowes ? And if so, 
are there any of the numerous seats, 
inscriptions, ‘urns, obelisks and~ orna- 
eset that are not-entirely obliterated 
stroyed, by wantonness and time, 
rettes ie to add to the enjoyment of 
such ‘enchanted ground ? 
Witriam Taytor. 
| Whitechapel, May 28, 1825. 
[To the last inquiry of our cor: respondent 
we ill reply, that, when’ we were last in 
at part of the country, and visited the 
easowes, we found little left that could 
ard attention, or that could illustrate 
fine picturesque taste of Shenstone. 
ifand that. ‘there is now much 
: the hammer and the forge of Vul- 
he ne ‘Pan’ and the Nymphs 
* the onee-sweet ee 
spty Ma as, No,"413.° " ” 
eon 
Distinction between Folly and Stupidity. 
25 
The Naiads now feed muddy canals, and 
listen to. the heavy creakingof Jocks and 
cranes, and the blustering oaths of boat- 
men, instead of brawling and sparkling over 
pebbled beds, and. with congenial “murs 
wooing the enamoured nightingale.” 
Epir. y ; 
— 
For the Monthly Magazine. 
Forty and Sruprpity. 
HESE terms, although fFaqueingly 
confounded, are by no means 
synonimous. A blockhead is preferable 
to a fool, and a fool is not always a 
blockhead. 
Narrowness of intellect; protracted 
childishness of mind; the total absence 
of ideas, or of the’ sift of classing them : 
this we call stupidity. 
Folly, on the contrary, is the perver- 
sity of a vain-glorious mind; the fop- 
pery that would pass for grace; the 
ponderosity that will be thought light; 
the superciliousness and presumption 
that decide upon every thing, without 
being at the pains to understand it. 
Fools amuse us, but it is at their own 
expense: we humiliate them, and “de- 
liver’ them over, without pity, to the 
lash of ridicule. Blockheads also afford 
us entertainment, but they are neither 
despised nor humiliated ; and: we are-as’ 
little tempted to reproach them with’ 
their idiotism, as we are to upbraid # 
deaf or blind man for the sagan 
under which he labours. 
Father Bandory, ‘a learned eda 
used frequently to amuse himself with 
the porter of his college, a man notos 
rious for obtuseness of intellect—and 
often said, “I never met with genius so 
attractive as the stupidity of this man.” 
“Sit opposite to me and talk,” said’ 
Mirabeau to one of -his_ secretaries; 
“and I shall have no occasion tothink.” — 
Madame de Crequy used to say of @ 
certain Baron, “He is nota blockhead 
he is only a fool.” . 
We sometimes hear foolish sayings 
that amuse us almost as much as witti- 
cisms. “ When ‘will your lady be con- 
fined ?” inquired Louis XIV. of a cours 
tier. “Sire, as soon as your Majesty 
pleases!” replied the courtier—whose 
title to stupidity surely none will dis+ 
pute. A foreign princess, not very 
conversant with the French language, 
once inquired whether she ought to say 
naval. or naveau (waval). *T believe; 
Madam,” replied a petit-maitre, with 
Brest est? we’ “say! ‘navets 
_{eusnipeye* 
