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agreeable, or more disagreeable, than if they had stood by themselves. He treats of the most important matters as if they were the most unimportant, and vice versa. He makes us pleased with what is actually displeasing to us, or archly affects to believe we are pleased; but when he presents us with a delightful image, be immediately prevents us from enjoying it, by associating it with other images which either entirely destroy, or at least greatly diminish the pleasure which they would otherwise impart. He is perhaps of all writers the most witty in his way, and yet no Iman knew better how to conceal his wit. He never affects to know that what he says is calculated to provoke us or make us laugh. He generally means the contrary of what he says, and praises always when he intends to censure. Of this the following passage is a beautiful example, in which he lashes the fanatics of his time :

"Pious spirits who passed their days in raptures of futurity made little more of this world than the world that was before it, while they lay obscure in the chaos of pre-ordination and night of their forebodings. And if they be so happy as truly to understand Christian annihilation, extasies, exolution, liquefaction, transformation, the kiss of the spouse, gustation of God, and ingussion into the divine shadow, they have already had a handsome anticipation of heaven. The glory of the world is surely over, and the earth in ashes unto them.

To subsist in lasting monuments, to live in their productions, to exist in their names and predicament of chimeras was large satisfaction to old expectations, and made one part of their elysium. But all this is nothing in the metaphysics of true belief. To live indeed is to be again ourselves, which being not only a hope but an evidence in noble believers, it is all one to lie in St. Innocent's church-yard as in the sands of Egypt. Ready to be any thing in the extasy of being ever, and as content with six feet as the moles of Adrianus."

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We have only to add that the little work before us is an imperishable monument of the author's genius. will not say but he might have directed his talents to higher purposes; but as genius converts whatever it touches into gold, we are so pleased with every thing coming from his pen, that we would hardly wish him to have written on any other subjects than those on which he has written, or at least we would not exchange the pleasure, which they have imparted to us, for the speculative satisfaction which we might have possibly enjoyed, had he directed his talents to subjects of sublimer interests. We know what he has done: what he might have done, had he directed his

talents to other pursuits, we cannot venture to determine.

One science only will one genius fit,

So vast is art, so narrow human wit. We have already observed, that he resembles Montaigne in one feature of his manner: we may add that, in his general manner, he resembles Érasmus more than any other writer. The editor* is entitled to all the merit which an editor can claim,-the exercise of a chaste and correct judgment, - the work is printed with neatness and elegance, and we strongly recommend it to our readers.

Memoirs of the Life of Artemi. 8vo. pp. 374. 12s.

This is the biography of an Armenian, written by himself, in his native dialect, which he afterwards translated into the Russian language, from which it has been renderd into English. The faithful painting of Asiatic characters and manners, not by a European traveller, but by a simple native, is new to our literature, and delights from its novelty; but the chief charm of the book is its simplicity of views and of style, in which latter respect it has, we suspect, lost much by its travelling into English through the medium of Russia. The work gives us a terrible view of the ferocity of our nature when untamed by education and philosophy; shewing the wretched state of Society, when regular governments and permanent institutions do not exist to protect life and property, or do not produce an amelioration of individual character. Artemi's simplicity evinces itself even from the first line of his preface, where he tells us that the catalogue and journal of his sufferings and mishaps were noted down, at his mother's command, merely to shew the goodness of God towards him. He was born at Wagarschapat, near Mount Ararat, on the 20th of April, 1774, his father being skilful cutter and polisher of precious stones." His history of his mother, and of her maternal parent, is the most simple and moving representation of the strong natural affection of a mother for her offspring that we ever read. This universal feature of our nature supported these two unfortunate creatures through as much of cruelty and suffering as the most ferocious could inflict, or as the most patient could support. There is a story told of his mother

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A Gentleman whose high talents and extensive acquirements are not unknown to the literary world.

having been stolen from her parent 'at four years old, and being purchased by a benevolent Persian of wealth, was brought up by the old man as his daughter and betrothed to his son. But the mother having, after a long and arduous search, discovered her child in the house of the Persian, by one quarter, of an hour's rhapsody about saints and martyrs, creates in the girl an abhorrence of Mahometanism, weans all her affections from her kind old protector, and makes her desert him, in spite of all his tears and entreaties. This is practically shewing the dreadful effects of proselytism and religious difference, unaccompanied by good sense and humanity; and we sympathize with the good old man when he exclaims in his anguish," kindness has no effect on these unfeeling, ungrateful creatures." But Artemi loses his father at four months old, and his widowed mother struggles through every privation, and supports numerous cruelties to maintain her children, and to rear Artemi for the church, which was the object of her piety and of her ambition, as well as of her affection for her son. In Wagarschapat there were seven hundred houses, and we suppose about three thousand inhabitants, of which it appears only ten could read. Poor Artemi's literary proficiency excited so much envy on the part of his superiors, as to bring down upon himself and mother numerous taunts, as well as cuffs and blows from both laymen and the Christian priesthood of Armenia; who certainly appear to be as arrant a set of scoundrels as we ever read of. Poor Artemi is very sensible, a great moralizer, very superstitious, and credulous. He suffers much for conscience sake, and more, it would seem, from his untoward destiny. His adventures are numerous, and told in a style of affecting simplicity-at length Artemi escapes to the Russians, and eventually gets to St. Petersburgh, where, how. ever, new tribulations commence. After his long catalogue of disasters, drubbings, and of "moving accidents by flood and field," the humble and amiable creature concludes by a "Praise be to God who has prospered me in such manifold ways," although a life of less prosperity it is not very easy to imagine. However, Artemi at last realizes an humble competence, he gets to Paris, acts as a commercial agent for the Armenians at St. Petersburgh, and, as if enamoured of his disastrous peregrinations, he cannot content himself with ease, quiet, and security, but starts on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem by the

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The Author of this book is already known to our readers, as we have had occasion to notice his former works; and his last novel of "Calthorpe" demanded and received at our hands an acknowledgement of its very superior merit. But the work now before us is of a species totally distinct from its predecessors; and however well the author of "Calthorpe" may have established his claim to the general character of a good novelist, he has now entered into a new field, and it becomes necessary to examine, de novo, the powers and capability of his mind and pen. The book before us is not a mere commentary upon human passions, and a nicely constructed series of incidents and story, intended to interest and delight the imagination; but it aspires to the loftier task of identifying remote and important matters of history with the occurrences of private life, and the customs and habits of private society. It is easy to conceive, that this is no comman undertaking, if it be executed with accuracy and success. The difficulty does not alone consist in the comparative scarcity of materials, from which the necessary information is to be derived. It is greatly increased by the taste of the age, which leads a large portion of the literary world to the very sources of that information, with a thirst too insatiable to be satisfied, though the fountain yielded its waters, like the rock at the touch of the prophet. There is a prevailing rage for historical and antiquarian research, which renders it utterly impossible, that an author should deceive or blunder without detection; or assume facts for the sake of convenience without a tolerable shew of data upon which to found his assumption. There is a close illustration of this in "the Lollards," to which there is a learned and a candid, as well as modest preface, apologising for some slight anachronisms, and elaborately attempting to justify other

important departures from received opinions. The chief point, upon which he has adopted such a course, is in relation to the era at which the art of printing was discovered, as he makes use of that discovery for the purposes of his work at a period considerably antecedent to the time, at which it has been generally supposed to have taken place. And it must be admitted, in candour, that although the case he makes out may not be a perfect one, yet it is sufficiently conclusive to warrant its particular application. Our opinion of this work, upon its general merits, is decidedly a favourable one. If we discover imperfections in the detail, we do not find the author wanting in the greater qualities of mind and acquirement, which it is necessary that he should possess. His research has been sufficiently extensive to enable him to unfold the obscurities of history, and to connect them with life and the actions of men. He has done this, not only with the delightful interest and vivid colouring which attract and charm the general mass of readers; but with an accuracy and general fidelity that may defy the most cynical of antiqua ries. His motto is fully exemplified; for truly in his pages do "forgotten generations live again."

Lacon; or, Many Things in Few Words. Vol. II. 8vo. 7s. 6d. pp. 266.

That, which we dislike the most of this work, is its title. A book, which tells us many things in a few words, possesses no ordinary degree of merit, and we think that the author might as well have selected some less quaint and assuming name, leaving the merits of the work to elicit such a panegyric; if it could, from its readers. The work, however, does really contain many very good things, which we are rather surprised at, as the first volume was replete with so much of similar matter, that we thought it must have exhausted any private store-house of even more than ordinary profundity. The present volume contains two hundred and eighty. three Aphorisms, a long Critique upon Lord Byron's Don Juan, and the author's Poem upon the Conflagration of Moscow, now printed with many additions. The Aphorisms do not possess the style of epigrammatic paradox, or the brilliant turn so peculiar to Rochefoucalt, but they evince a power of profound thinking, as well as a habit of acute

observation. Although the style, coupé, and antitheses, be peculiarly adapted to Aphorisms, we cannot agree with Mr. Colton in his opinion upon the beauty of antitheses, as a figure, nor can we agree with him in his possessing the power of avoiding it in his more lengthened pieces, for reading his preface, or the first ten lines of his Critique on Don Juan, would convince us, that he even thinks in antithesis. Some of these Aphorisms are so long and diffuse, that they are rather essays, or short sermons. -Others are trite, containing nothing of novelty in the matter, or of superiority in the form, such as Nos. 1. 3, 4. 8. 58. 83. 88, 89, 90. 96. 282.-Some of the best are, 7. 11. 13. 15. 35. 48. 73. 77. 81. 91. &c. Many are very bad, such, for instance, as Nos. 16. 18. or both obvious and hacknied, such as 71. 84. &c.; whilst others, as we have before observed, are mere essays; and, we must add, being written in the style of Aphorisms, are by no means pleasing essays. We like Mr. Cotton's longer pieces the least for instance, the Number 62, upon Materialism, contains nothing of fact, but what the writings of Laurence, Brown, Rennell, and the Reviews and Magazines of the day have rendered, we should almost say, nauseously common; whilst as to reasoning upon those facts, Mr. Colton displays a total ignorance of the arguments. Mr. Colton ought to know, that Analogy affords no "grounds of probability" in favour of any religion, nor does it even prove, that religion is not improbable; all that it can prove is, that it is not unnatural or absurd. This is the only use that Bishop Butler professes to make of Analogy, and that orthodox and excellent reasoner, Dr. Reid, confines Analogy to the same bounds. The critique on Don Juan contains many good observations, but where Mr. Colton pronounces stanzas to be obscene or blasphemous, he might as well have avoided quoting them; and he never blames the poet's morals without accompanying his censure with such high commendations of his genius and powers, as to give us some suspicion that he is hardly in earnest; or that he is falling within the observation contained in his fourteenth Aphorism. Mr. Colton, in the third page of this critique, tells us, that "the Morality of Pope is too neutralized to do good." What he means by this, we do not know; and we suspect he does not know himself. As to the magnanimity of sacrificing Moscow, we must observe, that in poetry such a view of the case is allowable-only let us remember that those, who fired the city,

passed the ensuing winter at the Court of St. Petersburgh, whilst the inhabitants of Moscow were left to perish with the cold. We have nevertheless enjoyed much satisfaction from Mr. Colton's work, and think the present volume a useful addition to its predecessor.

sports of boyish fancy.-The lines on "Rural Solitude," transport the reader to the purest rural scenery and feelings. There is a singular mixture of the school-boy and the poet in the "Song to the Robin Red-breast," and in the "Lines to a Dog." The poems, at pages 89. 117. and 121. are of the best in the volume. The prose pieces are all upon religious subjects, and, al

The Remains of Henry Kirk White. though controversial, they are replete

Vol. III. 8vo. pp. 185.

The decidedly favourable judgment, which the public pronounced on the first two volumes of "The Remains of Henry Kirk White," has been confirmed by time; and the affection which those works excited for the truly amiable and interesting poet, who sunk untimely to the grave, will render the present publication of value to most persons. Independent of this feeling, the present volume possesses intrinsic merit. The first two volumes contained only selections of the poet's better pieces, but the present volume, containing his more juvenile and less studied productions, affords us a fairer specimen of his mind and habits. We may possess the biography of more powerful, or even of more precoce intellects than Kirk White's, but literature does not afford us so fine an instance of the union of early character with early genius. His fervent piety was untinged with any of the extravagance incident to young and ardent minds, and was free from the bigotry and spirit of exclusion, with which it is so often accompanied by maturer judgments. The clearness of his intellect, his unwearied and constant industry, so free from the sudden efforts of youth, which relax into inaction or dissipation; and, above all, the astonishing tone of prudence and quiet good sense, which distinguished this highly-gifted individual, are most beautifully, but indirectly displayed in the contents of this volume. The volume consists of about fifty pages of his private correspondence, of some forty or fifty poetical pieces, and of numerous prose productions. Independent of the pious and amiable spirit breathed throughout his private correspondence, some of the letters contain matter of much utility to young minds. The poems give promise of future excellence: that upon "Winter" is full of vigour, but the allusion to goblins and witches in this and in the Fair Maid of Clifton," are the

with the humanity and benevolent spirit which ought to characterise a Christian. We cannot agree with Mr. White in the arguments he raises upon the interpolated passage of Josephus: in subjects of such importance as Revelation, too many admissions of may-be's and possibilities are the foundations of scepticism. To conclude-the volume now offered to the public is a necessary addition to its two precursors, and, without it, they would not have made a faithful portrait of the poet's mind and heart.

The Three Perils of Man; or, War, Women, and Witchcraft. A Border Romance. By James Hogg. 3 vols. 12mo. London, 1822.

We have long been admirers of Mr. Hogg's talents, and sincere well-wishers to him. By his preceding works he has established a reputation, which the one now before us will not, as we think, diminish. His beauties are peculiarly his own; his faults are rather the faults of his situation than of the man; a natural, unaffected style, and a variety of incident are the most prominent and attractive features of this author's works. It is with regret that we observe these beauties obscured by occasional coarseness, not to say indecency. But in this instance, allowances ought to be made for the remarkable circumstances in which Mr. Hogg has been placed. With no advantages of birth or education he, has, by the unassisted force of native intellect, brought himself into the favourable notice of the public. Our limits do not allow of our giving any account of the work; but to those of our readers who have found pleasure in the perusal of Mr. Hogg's former productions (and we think few have not found pleasure in them), we may venture to promise a considerable gratification in the perusal of this romance.

FINE ARTS.

Explanation of the Frontispiece. EXHIBITION AT SOMERSET HOUSE. (Concluded from page 564, Vol. 81.)

IN pursuance of the intention, which we expressed in our last number, we proceed to make a few observations on the Sculpture in the Exhibition of the present year, which closed on Saturday the 13th of July. It has always appeared to us to be a most judicious arrangement on the part of the Royal Academicians, so to frame their catalogue, as to lead the visitors to the Exhibition up stairs at once, and not to induce them to go into the Model-School, until they have been in all the other apartments of the Institution. On a sultry day, the coolness of this room is as refreshing as a glass of ice-cream:-it is like a bath at the end of a journey, on a dusty road. After we have been dazzled by the glare and contrast of colours, and wearied by the pressure of the throng of gazers in the upper rooms, we are instantly relieved on entering the apartment appropriated to Sculpture, by its comparative solitude, and by the chaste simplicity of the works which are there assembled. When we have snugly seated ourselves in that little shaded niche which is so accommodatingly placed between the windows, we feel as if, after having run a long career of pleasure and dissipation, we had, towards the close of life, withdrawn from the gay illusions of society; in order to cherish the graver reflections, and more heavenly contemplations calculated to fit us for our final departure.

The number of works of Sculpture, and of Models, in this last, was not so great as we have known it to be in some former exhibitions ; but there was a large proportion of productions of superior merit:-of these, the one which appeared to us to be unequivocally the most fascinating (and we doubt whether in the more refined qualities of the art it has ever been excelled,) was Mr. Westmacott's " Psyche;" of which we have the pleasure, by the kind permission of his Grace the Duke of Bedford, to prefix an Engraving to

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the present number; in order to serve as a FRONTISPIECE to the eighty-second volume of our Magazine.

The fable of Cupid and Psyche, comprehending the beautiful allegory of Love and the Soul, has been a frequent and a favourite subject of poetry, painting, and sculpture. It is not, however, a story of very remote antiquity. No mention of Psyche, nor any allusion to her amours with Cupid, occurs in any Greek or Latin writer of an earlier date than Lucius Apuleius; who flourished in the reigns of Antoni-' nus Pius, and his brothers, M. Antoninus, the philosopher, and Lucius Aurelius Verus. It is generally supposed, therefore, to be the invention of Apuleius; although he may possibly have derived his materials from the Basilidians, in Egypt. Apuleius introduces it as an episode in "The Golden Ass," a work abounding with indecencies; and in which the charming fable of Cupid and Psyche, although rather verbosely told, appears, in comparison with the other parts of the book, like a lovely-and fragrant flower, springing from a rank and fœtid hot-bed. The following analysis of the story, which is by the classical and elegant pen of Mr. D'Isræli, we take the liberty of borrowing from that very interesting and scarce work, " Gems selected from the Antique," by Mr. R. Ragley; published in 1804.

ters, all beautiful; the third was more "A king and queen had three daugh. than beautiful. She was compared to Venus; for her was the worship of that deity neglected; Paphos, and Cnidos, and The statues of Cythera were deserted.

Beanty were ungarlanded and uncrowned; her altars were without incense and sacrifices. Venus, indignant, summoned her son signally to chastise the feeble mortal, whose audacious beauty had stolen away her adorers.

"Yet Psyche drew no advantage from her charms. All hastened to behold her; all admired her; but she inspired no one with desire. Her sisters were already married; and she alone, in the solitude of the palace, hated her own beauties,

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