(Charles), was born at Venice in the year 1727. He gave early indications of his humourous character, as well as his invincible propensity to those studies which have rendered his name immortal. His father, perceiving that the darling amusement of his son was dramatic performances, had a small theatre erected in his own house, in which Goldoni, while yet an infant, amused himself with three or four of his companions, by acting comedies. Before he was sent to school, his genius prompted him to become an author. In the seventh and eighth years of his age, ere he had scarcely learned to read correctly, all his time was devoted to the perusing comic writers, among whom was Cicerone, a Florentine, little known in the dramatic commonwealth. After having well studied these, he ventured to sketch out the plan of a comedy, which needed more than one eye-witness of the greatest probity to verify its being the production of a child.

After having finished his grammatical studies at Venice, and his rhetorical studies at the Jesuit's college in Perugia, he was sent to a boarding-school at Rimini, to study philosophy. The impulse of nature, however, superseded with him the study of Aristotle's works, so much in vogue in those times. He frequented the theatres with uncommon curiosity; and passing gradually gradually from the pit to the stage, entered into a familiar acquaintance with the actors. When the season of comic performances was over, and the actors were to remove to Chiozza, young Goldoni made his escape in their company. This was the first fault he committed, which, according to his own confession, drew a great many others after it. His father had intended him to be a physician, like himself; the young man, however, was wholly averse to the study. He proposed afterwards to make him an advocate, and sent him to be a practitioner in Modena. An horrid ceremony of ecclesiastical jurisdiction, at which he was present, inspired him with a melancholy turn, and he determined to become a capuchin.

His father, perceiving the whimsical, inconstant humour of his son, feigned to second this proposal, and promised to go and present him to the guardian of the capuchins in Venice, in the hope that after some stay in that extensive and merry city, his melancholy fit would cease. The scheme succeeded; for the young man, indulging in all the fashionable dissipation of the place, was cured of his foolish resolution. It was however necessary for him to be settled in some employment; and he was prevailed upon by his mother, after the death of his father, to exercise the profession of a lawyer in Venice. By a sudden reverse of fortune he was compelled to quit at once both the bar and Venice. He then went to Milan, where he was employed by the resident of Venice in the capacity of secretary; where becoming acquainted with the manager of the theatre, he wrote a farce, entitled *Il Gondoliere Veneziano*, the Venetian Gondolier; which was the first comic production of his that was performed and printed. Some time after, Goldoni broke with the Venetian resident, and removed to Verona.

There was in this place, at that time, the company of comedians of the theatre of St Samuel of Venice, and among them the famous actor Cesati, an old acquaintance of Goldoni, who introduced him to the manager. He began therefore to work for the theatre, and became insensibly united to the company, for which he composed several pieces. Having removed along with them to Genoa, he was for the first time seized with an ardent passion for a lady, who soon afterwards became his wife. He returned with the company to Venice, where he displayed, for the first time, the powers of his genius, and executed his plan of reforming the Italian stage. He wrote the *Mamolo*, *Courtisan*, the *Squanderer*, and other pieces, which obtained universal admiration.

Feeling a strong inclination to reside some time in Tuscany, he repaired to Florence and Pisa, where he wrote *The Footman of Two Masters*, and *The Son of Harlequin lost and found again*. He returned to Venice, and set about executing more and more his favourite scheme of reform. He was now attached to the theatre of St Angelo, and employed himself in writing both for the company and for his own purposes. The constant toils he underwent in these engagements impaired his health. He wrote, in the course of twelve months, sixteen new comedies, besides forty-two pieces for the theatre; among these many are considered as the best of his productions. The first edition of his works was published in 1753, in 10 vols. 8vo. As he wrote afterwards a great number of new pieces for the theatre of St Luca, a separate edition of these was published, under the title of *The New Comic Theatre*; among these was the *Terence*, called by the author his *favorite*, and judged to be the master-piece of his works. He made another journey to Parma, on the invitation of Duke Philip, and from thence he passed to Rome. He had composed 59 other pieces so late as the year 1761, five of which were designed for the particular use of Marque Albergati Capacelli, and consequently adapted to the theatre of a private company. Here ends the literary life of Goldoni in Italy.

Through the channel of the French Ambassador in Venice, he had received a letter from Mr Zenuzzi, the first actor in the Italian theatre at Paris, containing a proposal for an engagement of two years in that city. He accordingly repaired to Paris, where he found a select and numerous company of excellent performers in the Italian theatre. They were, however, chargeable with the same faults which he had corrected in Italy; and the French supported, and even applauded in the Italians, what they would have reprobed on their own stage. Goldoni wished to extend even to that country his plan of reformation, without considering the extreme difficulty of the undertaking. Scurrilities and jests, which are ever accompanied by actions, gestures, and motions, are the same in all countries, and almost perfectly understood even in a foreign tongue; while the beauties of sentiment and dialogue, and other things which lead to the understanding of characters and intrigues, require a familiar acquaintance with the tongue of the writer.

The first attempt of Goldoni towards his wished-for reform, was the piece called *The Father for Love*; and its bad success was a sufficient warning to him to desist from his undertaking. He continued, during the remainder of his engagement, to produce pieces agreeable to the general taste, and published twenty-four comedies; among which *The Love of Zelinda* and *Lindor* is reputed the best.

The term of two years being expired, Goldoni was preparing to return to Italy, when a lady, reader to the dauphiness, mother to the late king, introduced him at court, in the capacity of Italian master to the princesses, aunts to the king. He did not live in the court, but resorted there at each summons, in a post-chaise sent to him for the purpose. These journeys were the cause of a disorder in the eyes, which afflicted him the rest of his life; for being accustomed to read while in the chaise, he lost his sight on a sudden, and in spite of the most potent remedies, he could never afterwards recover it entirely. For about six months lodgings were provided him in the chateau of Versailles. The death, however, of the dauphin, changed the face of affairs. Goldoni lost his lodgings, and only, at the end of three years, received a bounty of 100 louis in a gold box, and the grant of a pension of four thousand livres a-year. This settlement would not have been sufficient for him, if he had not gained, by other means, farther sums. He wrote now and then comedies for the theatres of Italy and Portugal; and, during these occupations, was desirous to shew to the French that he merited a high rank among their dramatic writers. For this purpose, he neglected nothing which could be of use to render himself master of the French language. Goldoni. He heard, spoke, and conversed so much in it, that, in Good-Hope's 62nd year, he ventured to write a comedy in French, and to have it represented in the court theatre, on the occasion of the marriage of the king.

This piece was the *Bourru Bienfaisant*; and it met with so great success, that the author received a bounty of 150 louis from the king, another gratification from the performers, and considerable sums from the bookellers who published it. He published, soon after, another comedy in French, called *L'Assuré Fugueur*.

After the death of Louis XV., Goldoni was appointed Italian teacher to the Princess Clotilde, the present princess of Piedmont; and after her marriage he attended the late unfortunate Princess Elizabeth in the same capacity.

The approach of old age obliged him to quit Versailles, and to live in Paris, the air of which, less sharp, was better adapted to his constitution. The last work of Goldoni was *The Valpini*, written after his retirement from court; from which time he bade a lasting adieu to writing. Unfortunately for him, he lived to see his pensions cut off at the revolution, like others, and he spent his last days in poverty and distress. He died in 1792, at a crisis when, according to the expression of a deputy in the Convention, the French nation was ready to repay him every debt of gratitude.

Goldoni is on a par with the greatest comic poets of modern times, with regard to dramatic talents, and is thought superior to them all with regard to the fertility of his genius. His works were printed at Leghorn in 1788-91, in 31 vols. 8vo. He has been generally called the Molière of Italy; and Voltaire, in one of his letters to Marquis Albergati, styles him *The Painter of Nature*. Goldoni is one of those authors whose writings will be relished in the most remote countries, and by the latest posterity.

GOOD-HOPE, or CAPE OF GOOD HOPE, was taken by the British on 17th August 1796 with very little difficulty. At this we need not be much surprised, if to the discontent which must have prevailed among the planters and townsmen with the new order of things, be added the manners of the people. M. Vaillant, who was at the Cape during the last war, when the garrison expected to be every day attacked by a British squadron, and when the people were not absolutely disgusted with their own government, represents them, however, as rendered so completely frivolous by imitating the manners of their French allies, that though the place was strongly fortified, it could hardly be expected to hold out long against a vigorous and well conducted siege.

"The females of the Cape (says he), when I saw them for the first time, had really excited my astonishment by their dress and their elegance; but I admired in them, above all, that modesty and reserve peculiar to the Dutch manners, which nothing as yet had corrupted.

"In the course of six months, a great change had taken place. It was no longer the French modes that they copied; it was a caricature of the French. Plumes, feathers, ribbons, and tawdry ornaments heaped together without taste on every head, gave to the prettiest figures a grotesque air, which often provoked a smile when they appeared. This mania had extended to the neighbouring plantations, where the women could scarcely be known. A mode of dress entirely new was everywhere introduced; but so fantastical, that it would have been difficult to determine from what country it had been imported."

At that time a French and a Swiss regiment were in the garrison; and though the town was occupied only with warlike preparations, and though an attack from the British fleet was every moment expected, the French officers had already introduced a taste for pleasure. Employed in the morning at their exercise, the French soldiers in the evening acted plays. A part of the barracks was transformed into a theatre; and as women capable of performing female characters could not be found in the town, they assigned these parts to some of their comrades, whose youth, delicate features, and freshness of complexion, seemed best calculated to favour the deception. These heroines, of a new kind, heightened the curiosity of the spectators, and rendered the entertainment still more lively and interesting.

To add to the general pleasure, ladies of the first rank considered it as incumbent on them to lend to the military actors and actresses, their laces, jewels, rich dresses, and most valuable ornaments. But some of them had cause to repent of their condescension; for it happened more than once that the Countess of Almaviva having left in pledge at the gambling house her borrowed decorations, the owner, to recover them, was obliged to discharge not only the bill due for brandy and tobacco, but all the other debts of the heroine.

During the intoxication and giddiness occasioned by these amusements, Love also did not fail to set his part; and certain little intrigues were, from time to time, brought to light, which gave employment to the tongue of scandal, and introduced unhappiness into families. Hymen, it is true, amidst these adventures, sometimes intervened to repair the follies of his brother; and many marriages, which restored everything to order, were the result of his negotiations; but the complaints, though stifled, did not cease to exist. The watchfulness of the mother was alert. The husband, by so much the more fiercely irritated as he saw himself obliged to conceal his jealousy, cursed in his heart both actors and theatre; while the matronly part of the community, left on the reserve, declaimed with bitterness against the licentiousness that prevailed, which they wholly imputed to this mode of theatrical entertainment. At last, to the great mortification of the young, but to the high satisfaction of the old women and husbands, the theatre was on a sudden shut up. The cause that effected this was altogether foreign to the complaints that were made, and of a nature that it was impossible to foresee. Two of the French actors, who, it must be remembered, were officers in the army, thought proper to imitate the paper money of the company, and to put their forged notes in circulation. The forgery was detected, and traced to its authors; the two theatrical heroes were banished from the Cape; and the company, ashamed of the adventure, dared neither seek others to supply the vacant places, nor resume their flagrant entertainments.

Intoxicating as were these pleasures, government meanwhile had not been inattentive to the danger which threatened the colony. As they daily expected to be attacked by the British fleet, they had increased the means of defence, and ordered different works and new fortifications to be constructed.

At first, the business was carried on with activity and ardour; because the inhabitants, inflamed by their private interest, which was then considered as involved with that of the public, had voluntarily offered their services, and mingled with the workmen. Young and old, soldiers and magistrates, sailors and planters, all solicited the honour of cooperating for the general good and common safety. To behold this hetero- geneous multitude—some loaded with pick-axes, and some with spades, or other similar implements— marching out in the morning from the town, and pro- ceeding in high spirits to the new fortifications, was a sight truly admirable.

But this patriotic fervour was of no long conti- nuance. Under pretence of sparing their strength, and that they might not weary themselves to no purpose, they soon caused their slaves to follow them with the tools and instruments. In a little time they contented themselves with feeding their slaves only; and at last these substitutes themselves, in imitation of their mas- ters, or perhaps by their secret orders, gave over going alto. Their enthusiasm, in short, from the first mo- ment of its breaking out till the period when it was thus entirely cooled, had been the affair of something less than a fortnight.

This taste for frivolity which, almost twenty years ago, was introduced among the Dutch in Cape-town by their good friends the French, spread rapidly thro' the planters, who are thus described by M. Vaillant, who certainly had the best opportunities of knowing them.

The planters of the Cape may be divided into three classes; those who reside in the vicinity of the Cape, within a distance of five or six leagues; those who live further off in the interior parts of the colony; and lastly, those who, more distant still, are found at the extremity of the frontiers among the Hottentots.

The first, who are opulent proprietors, and have handsome country houses, may be likened to what was formerly called in France petits seigneurs terriens, and differ extremely from the other planters in ease and luxury, and particularly in their manners, which are haughty and disdainful. Such is the result of wealth. The second, simple, kind, hospitable, are cultivators, who live upon the fruits of their labour. Here we have an example of the good effects of mediocrity. The last, poor enough, yet too indolent to derive subsistence from the soil, have no other resource than the produce of some cattle, which they feed as they can. Like the Bedouin Arabs, they think much of the trouble of driving them from canton to canton, and from one pasture to another. This wandering life prevents them from building any settled habitations. When their flocks oblige them to sojourn for a while in the same place, they construct, in haste, a rude kind of hut, which they cover with mats, after the manner of the Hottentots, whose customs they have adopted, and from whom they in no respect differ, but in their com- plexion and features. And here the evil is, that there is no precise situation in social life to which these mi- serable beings belong.

These flagrant tribes are held in horror by their in- dustrious neighbours, who dread their approach, and Good-Hope remove as far from them as they can; because, having no property of their own, they steal without scruple that of others, and, when in want of pastureage for their cattle, conduct them secretly to the first cultivated piece of ground that comes in their way. They flatter themselves they shall not be discovered, and they remain till every thing is devoured. If detected in their thefts, squabbles and contentions ensue, and af- terwards a suit at law, in which recourse is had to the magistrate, and which commonly terminates in making three men enemies, the robber, the person robbed, and the judge.

Nothing can be so mean and cringing as the conduct of the first description of planters, when they have any thing to transact with the principal officers of the company, who may have some influence over their lot; and nothing so absurdly vain and so superlatively insolent as their behaviour to persons from whom they have no- thing to hope and nothing to fear. Proud of their wealth, spoiled by residing near a town, from whence they have imbibed only a luxury that has corrupted, and vices that have degraded them, it is particularly to- wards strangers that they exercise their surly and pitiful arrogance. Though neighbours to the planters who inhabit the interior of the country, you must not suppose they regard them as brethren; on the contrary, in the true spirit of contempt, they have given them the name of Rawu-boer, a word answering to the low- est description of clown. Accordingly, when these honest cultivators come to the town upon any kind of business, they never stop by the way at the houses of the gentry of whom we are speaking; they know too well the insulting manner in which they would be re- ceived. One might suppose them to be two inimical nations, always at war, and of whom some individuals only met at distant intervals, upon business that related to their mutual interests.

What is the more disgusting in the insolence of these Africans is, that the majority of them are descended from that corrupt race of men, taken from prisons and hospitals, whom the Dutch company, desirous of form- ing a settlement at the Cape, sent thither to begin, at their risk and peril, the population of the country. This shameful emigration, of which the period is not so remote but that many circumstances of it are re- membered, ought to render particularly modest those who are in the most distant manner related to it. On the contrary, it is this very idea that most contributes to their arrogance; as if they flattered themselves that, under the guise of superrcilious manners, they could hide the abjectness of their origin. If a stranger ar- rives at the Cape with the design of remaining and settling there, they conceive him to be driven from his country by the same wretched circumstances which formerly banished their fathers, and they treat him with the most sovereign contempt.

This melancholy failing is the more to be lamented, as the contagion has spread through almost every resi- dence about the Cape, which is in reality a very charm- ing country. Embellished by cultivation, by its nume- rous vineyards and pleasant country houses, it every- where exhibits so varied and delicious a prospect, that, were it occupied by other inhabitants, it would excite no sensations but those of pleasure. As we advance into the country, the planters are a sort of farmers; and constitute, by their manners, customs, and occupations, a class by themselves, perfectly distinct from that we have been describing. Situated farther from the Cape, and, of consequence, not having the same opportunities for disposing of their commodities, they are less rich than the first. We see among them none of those agreeable country houses, which, placed at different distances from the town, embellish the country as we pass, and afford such charming prospects. Their habitation, which is about the size of a large coach-house, is covered with thatch, and divided into three rooms by means of two partitions, which reach only to a certain height. The middle apartment, in which is the entrance to the house, serves at once both as a parlour and eating-room. It is there that the family reside during the day, and that they receive their tea and other visitors. Of the two other rooms, one forms a chamber for the male children, and the other for the females, with the father and mother. At the back of the middle apartment is a further room serving for a kitchen. The rest of the building consists of barns and stables.

Such is the distribution which is generally followed in the interior plantations of the colony; but nearer to the frontiers, where there does not prevail the same ease of circumstances, the habitations are much less commodious. They are merely a barn, consisting of a single room, without any division, in which the whole family live together, without separating, either day or night. They sleep upon sheep skins, which serve them also for covering.

The dress of these planters is simple and rustic. That of the men consists of a check shirt, a waistcoat with sleeves, a large pair of trousers, and a hat half unlooped. The women have a petticoat, a jacket fitted to their shape, and a little round bonnet of muslin. Unless upon extraordinary occasions, neither sex wear stockings. During a part of the year, the women even walk with their feet quite naked. The occupations of the men require that theirs should have some covering; and this covering they make from a piece of the hide of an ox, applied and shaped to the foot soon after the animal is killed, and while the hide is yet fresh. These sandals are the only article of their dress which they make themselves; the rest is the business of the women, who cut out and prepare their whole wardrobe. Though the equipment we have mentioned constitute the every-day dress of the planter, he has, however, a coat of handsome blue cloth, which he wears upon days of gala and ceremony. He has then also stockings and shoes, and is dressed exactly like an European. But this finery never makes its appearance but when he goes to the Cape; and then, indeed, is not put on till he arrives at the entrance of the town.

It is commonly in these journeys that they purchase such things as they may want to refit their wardrobe. There is, at the Cape, as well as in Paris and London, a species of old-clothes-men, who deal in commodities of this sort; and who, from their enormous profits, and the extortion they practise, they have obtained the name of Cape Smuglers, or Cape Jews. These traffickers contrive, at all times, to sell their goods at a dear rate; but they vary their price in proportion as their stock is great or small; of course they bear no fixed price; and the planter who comes from the desert, and who can understand but little of this fluctuation, is sure to be duped.

On the other hand, the regular shopkeeper, who knows the probity of these farmers, and how punctual they are in the payment of their debts, exerts every effort to prevail on them to open an account with him. He tempts them by the pretended cheap price and excellent quality of his stuffs, and offers to remit the payment till their next journey in the following year. It is seldom that these people, simple and unexperienced as they are, perceive the craft that is presented to them under this guise of kindness and civility. If they suffer themselves to be prevailed upon, they are shackled for life. Upon their return, there are new purchases to be made upon the same conditions; and thus, year after year, always in debt, always buying without prompt payment, they become the prey of an extortioner, who raises to himself a fortune out of their weakness.

It is true, these buyers, after being thus duped at the Cape, commonly return home only to make dupes of others. The cunning that has been employed to deceive them, they employ in turn to tempt the Hottentots who are in their service. The remnants of stuff, or the frippery garments which they bring back, are sold to their unfortunate servants with so great a profit, that commonly the wages of a year are inadequate to the payment, and they find themselves, like their masters, in debt for the year that is to come. In the end, therefore, it is the poor Hottentot that pays for the extortion at the Cape.

Custom has rendered the planters insensible to the want of fruit and pulse, though the soil is admirably adapted to the cultivation of both. The facility with which they rear their cattle makes up for this privation, as their flocks afford them plenty of provision. The chief food is mutton; and their tables are loaded with such profusion as to disgust one at the sight.

From this mode of living, cattle are in the colonies, as in other places, not only a useful object, but an article of the first necessity. The planter undertakes himself the care of watching over his flocks. Every evening, when they return from the field, he stands at his door, with a stick in his hand, and counts them over one by one, in order to be sure that none of them are missing.

People who have no other employment than a little agriculture, and the superintendence of a flock, must have long intervals of idleness. It is thus with the planters, particularly those who live in the interior parts of the country, and who being unable, on account of their distance from the Cape, to dispose of their corn, never raise more than is sufficient for their own consumption. From the profound inaction in which they live, one would suppose their supreme felicity to consist in doing nothing. They sometimes, however, visit each other; and upon these occasions the day is spent in smoking, and drinking tea, and in telling, or listening to tales of romance, that are equal neither in merit nor morality to the story of Blue-beard.

As every man always carries with him, wherever he goes, both a pipe, and a tobacco-pouch made of the skin of the sea-calf, he is sure in these visits to have one source of amusement. When any one of the company