venture to assert, are not even at the present day well understand. Light, according to the system alluded to, consists in certain undulations communicated by luminous bodies to the etherial fluid, which is supposed to fill all space. This fluid is imagined to be composed of the most subtile matter, to be highly elastic, whilst the undulations are regarded as being propagated through it with great velocity in spherical superficies proceeding from a centre: and it is on this last supposition, that the phenomena of common refraction are explained by Huygens. Double refraction, again, is explained on the supposition, that the undulations of light in passing through the calcareous spar, assume a spheroidal form; and it must be admitted, that when one enunciates the hypothesis of spheroidal undulations, he expresses in one single sentence, all the phenomena of double refraction. The theory of Huygens, in short, is identified with the expression of a general law; but we object to it on the ground that it bends the law too much to meet the facts, and twists the facts too much to comply with the law. Mr. Playfair himself, indeed, admits this objection in substance, when he says:

"To carry the theory of Huygens farther, and to render it quite satisfactory, a reason ought to be assigned, why the undulations of the luminous fluid are spheroidal in the case of crystals, and spherical in all other cases. This would be to render the generali. zation more complete; and till that is done, and a connection clearly established between the structure of crystallized bodies and the property of double refraction, the theory will remain imperfect. The attention which at present is given to this most singular and interesting branch of optics, and the great number of new phenomena observed and classed under the head of the polarization of light, make it almost certain, that this object will be either speedily accomplished, or that science has here reached one of the immoveable barriers, by which the circle of human knowledge is to be for ever circumscribed."

We have now finished our analysis of the First Dissertation; having entered somewhat more minutely into its contents, and, of course, occupied a greater number of pages than we had intended. Our readers, however, if they entertain the same high opinion of its value that we do, will not grudge the labour bestowed on it, and will probably be induced to peruse, as the author gave it, the masterly performance of which we have exhibited so meagre an outline.

The Second Dissertation-unfortunately a mere fragment -comprehends the times and the discoveries of Newton and Leibnitz; including, we need not add, the invention of Flaxions, the Decomposition of Light, and the discovery of the

Principle of Gravitation; all three within a period of twenty years, and all three the work of the same individual. The characters of the two great men now mentioned, are given with much ability and fairness; and the disputed claims so long and vehemently urged by their respective partizans for the honour belonging to the inventor of Fluxions, are examined into with singular candour, and with a full knowledge of all the points at issue. The decision is given in favour of Newton; whose modesty in announcing his discoveries, and whose reluctance to obtrude himself on the public attention, are the sole causes why there was ever any doubt on the subject. Of this great man, Mr. Playfair speaks with an enthusiasm which does him honour, and with an eloquence which warms the heart. His admiration denotes a kindred spirit; for we cannot help measuring the mind of a philosopher by his appreciation of the rare qualities which raised and adorned that of the immortal Newton. No one ever left knowledge, says he, in a state so different from that in which he found it. Men were instructed not only in new truths, but in new methods of discovering truth: they were made acquainted with the great principle which connects together the most distant regions of space, as well as the most remote periods of duration; and which was to lead to future discoveries, far beyond what the wisest and most sanguine could anticipate.

ART. V. Bracebridge Hall; or, the Humourists. By Geoffrey Crayon, Gent. 2 vols. 8vo. 12. 4s. Murray. 1822.

THIS very agreeable production is so similar in all respects, both of manner and matter, to those for which we are already indebted to the same pen, as to render it unnecessary for us to enter into general criticism upon its merits. Our opinion of the writer was early expressed and to the praises which we then bestowed, we have little or nothing to subjoin, in the way either of addition or qualification. We need only say, that the style and taste, as well as the matter of the present, as of all our author's compositions, is of the best kind. say that they are extraordinary, when considered as the production of a person born and educated on the other side of the Atlantic, would be neither gracious nor just; for they are

Το

strikingly so in themselves. Without this qualification, viewing his productions as compositions only, we much doubt whether we could name any contemporary writer whose attempts, in that light species of writing, of which the first model in our language was furnished by Addison, would easily stand a comparison with those of this American essayist. It may seem strange to bring Addison and a citizen of New York together in the same sentence; and certainly had we been asked which of all our writers would probably be the last, whom our Transatlantic descendants would be likely to emulate with success, it would have been the author of the Spectator. In spite, however, of the apparent improbability of the fact, so it is: we know of no author who brings some of the most favourite papers in that delightful work more frequently to our recollection, than the writer of the sketches before us.

Such of our readers as have perused the Sketch Book,' may remember a visit which was paid by our author, during the Christmas holidays, to Bracebridge Hall; the seat of an ancient and very worthy family in the north of England, whose humours and peculiarities were there briefly introduced to the knowledge of the public. The chief characters whom our author had there an opportunity of studying, were those of the squire himself, his younger brother, a sort of Will Wimble, known in the family by the name of Master Simon, and the parson of the parish. In consequence, however, of a marriage in the family, between the squire's second son Grey and a Miss Julia Templeton, a ward of his, our author has since spent a couple of months at the Hall; and from this circumstance has been able to give us sketches, not merely of several other members of the house of Bracebridge, but also of some of the most remarkable characters in the neighbouring village: and who all seem more or less to be imbued with the squire's way of thinking.

With respect to the "humours" of the squire and his party, we cannot say that they are of a description extremely probable in themselves; but, however, granting the author's hypothesis of character, his conclusions follow, for the most part, very naturally. His dramatis persone act in a manner which is quite consistent with the parts that are assigned to them, and with the general course of the fable; so that when once the reader's imagination is fairly domiciliated at Bracebridge Hall, from that time it meets with no shocks or interruptions. All is done, and said, and described, just as it should be, and as might be naturally expected in the particular circumstances of the place.

As to story, the author has no more of that to tell bis reader, than the "needy knife grinder." The work consists of a series of papers, much in the manner of those in which Addison describes his visit to Sir Roger de Coverley's place in the country; except that here the mottoes are all taken from old plays and scarce books, instead of being chosen from Horace and Juvenal; and that the several parts of the description are given more systematically, and with more regard to arrangement; and that, in order to while away the time of his reader, the author is obliged to introduce at the Hall, the old fashion of telling stories, two of which are pretty long, and what is not always the case with long stories in the same circumstances, they are all of them extremely well worth listening to. The great fault of stories,' as they are commonly introduced in novels, is, that they break the thread of the narrative, and impose a very disagreeable check upon the reader's curiosity. Happily, in this case, there was no story to break, nor any curiosity to interrupt, so that the merit of the "Stout Gentleman," and of the tale called " Dolph Heyliger," have no drawbacks in that respect.

The great recommendation of the work before us, consists in the admirable delineations of character with which it abounds. We cannot say exactly that the author is a great master of human nature, but he is an admirable inventor of oddities; and when he has once got his cue, he has talent, without falling into caricature, of giving such an inimitably humorous expression to his countenances, as it is quite impossible to look at without a strong disposition to laugh. Indeed we hardly know any production better calculated to put people in good humour, and we may add, to teach them the pleasure of looking good naturedly upon life. Every character which is described, however indifferent and exceptionable it may be in some points, is yet always painted on that side at which we can look at it with sympathy. Without sacrificing either the truth of nature or the severity of morals, still the author contrives to make every human being the object of some kindly feeling, some benevolent association. It is true, that considered in the true light in which human nature has of late years been placed by the improvements in philosophy, our author cannot properly be called an enlightened writer. For he seems by no means aware of the interest and importance of the human species, as subjects for experiments in metaphysics and political economy. But, however, he is not the less agreeable for

3

not being wise over much; and we freely confess that if America would only give us the writer of Bracebridge Hall and the Sketch Book, we would give them in return, Mr. Malthus and Mr. Ricardo, and Jeremy Bentham, into the bargain.

In presenting our readers with some account of the work, in which the several parts have no more logical connexion than subsists between the portraits in a gallery of family pictures, of course all that we can do will be to detach a few pas sages, and give them as specimens. In order, however, that the reader may be able to enter in some degree into the spirit in which they were conceived and composed, we shall in the first place extract the general account which the author gives of the Hall and its inmates.

"The family mansion is an old manor-house, standing in a retired and beautiful part of Yorkshire. Its inhabitants have been always regarded through the surrounding country, as the great ones of the earth;' and the little village near the hall looks up to the squire with almost feudal homage. An old manor-house, and an old family of this kind, are rarely to be met with at the present day; and it is probably the peculiar humour of the squire that has retained this secluded specimen of English housekeeping in something like the genuine old style.” Vol. I. P. 17.

"While sojourning in this strong hold of old fashions, it is my intention to make occasional sketches of the scenes and characters before me. I would have it understood, however, that I am not writing a novel, and have nothing of intricate plot, or marvellous adventure, to promise the reader. The hall of which I treat, has, for aught I know, neither trap-door, nor sliding-pannel, nor donjon-keep; and indeed appears to have no mystery about it. The family is a worthy well-meaning family, that, in all probability, will eat and drink, and go to bed, and get up regularly, from one end of my work to the other; and the squire is so kind-hearted an old gentleman, that I see no likelihood of his throwing any kind of distress in the way of the approaching nuptials. In a word, I cannot foresee a single extraordinary event that is likely to occur in the whole term of my sojourn at the hall.

"I tell this honestly to the reader, lest, when he finds me dallying along, through every-day English scenes, he may hurry ahead, in hopes of meeting with some marvellous adventure further on. I invite him, on the contrary, to ramble gently on with me, as he would saunter out into the fields, stopping occasionally to gather a flower, or listen to a bird, or admire a prospect, without any anxiety to arrive at the end of his career. Should I, however, in the course of my loiterings about this old mansion, see or hear any thing curious, that might serve to vary the monotony of this every-day life, I shall not faik to report it for the reader's entertainment: