NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW AND MISCELLANEOUS JO1JRNAL. N0 XXX.Xew Serie8 N~ V. JANUARY, 1821. ART. T....Prcl3lectiones .Acadernica~ Oxonji habilie, ab Bdvardo Copleston S. T. B. Collegii Orietensis Soejo, et Poetic~ publicO pra~Iectore,nuncEcctesiw Cathedratis Londinensis J?rwbendario. Oxoriji, 1813. Svo, pp. 466. Twis work, as our readers perceiVe from the title pnge, has been before the public too long to be called a novelty. We do not remember, however, to have seen a notice or it in the com. temporary literary journals; arid our condition this side of the water is not unlike that of the Danish subjects in Green- land, to Whom the annual ship from Copenhagen brought a years supply of newspapers, which, being judiciously dealt out by the governor one by one, furnished the coffee-house politicians of the iolar circle, with as regular a succession of news as is enjoyed at Lloyds, with the trifling abatement, that it was all a year old. We have no reason to doubt that Dr. Coplestons prrelections are new to most of our readers, nor that they will thank us for making them cease to be so. He is already known to most of them, as having been the champion of his University, on Qecasion of the animated con- troversy, which arose from some severe animadversions in the Edinburgh Review, on the course of study and system of education pursued at Oxford. Dr. Copleston replied t6 these animadversions in a pamphlet, entitled The Calumnies of .New Series, No.5. 1 2 The English Universities. [Jan. the Edinburgh Review against Oxford, refuted, which was in its turn the subject of a very lively retort, in the Edinburgh Review. To this Dr. Copleston rejoined in a pamphlet, of which several long extracts ~vere reprinted in the Boston An tirology, and here, if we are riot misinformed, the contro- versy rested. it is no l)art of our prcserit purpose to revive it ; the rather, as its essential merits are sometimes waved by the warmest friends of Oxford. It is not unusual to hear such friends concede that the English Universities are by no means to be considered merely as places of education, whither young men are to resort to acquire knowledge. rfliere are, on the contrary, two other points of view in which these establish- inents are entitled to respect. Tfhie first is, as affording an eligi- ble residence for young men of rank arid fortune, between the periods of youth and manhood; subjecting them to some restraints, and calling on them for some efforts, ~vhmich if they make, it is well, arid if they do nut, it is better than to have been at the centre ot dissipation, in the capital. The other principal light, in which the English Universities are viewed, is that of a nursery for the established church; not exactly as a place to acquire the knowledge requisite for assuming its dig- nities ; but as a middle state of preferment, frum which the candidate is translated, when his hour cometh. Now, with regard to anyjudginent we might ourselves be dis- posed to form and express, we severely reprobate that levity, with which travellersor foreigners are ~vont,on the score ofsomne hasty observations made in a three days visit, t~ condemn institutions, whdch have a deep foundation in the character of a people, and are therefore likely to be vhat that character requires. We think it must indecent, with thatpartial insight into thuings, ~vhich is caught in thue postchaise, at the inn, or even at the dinner table, to which a letter of introduction gives you access, to pronounce bold oI)inions oir the morals and I)rirrciples, that pievail at the firesides of a nation ; on political controversies, of ~~hich we just know the catch ~vords; and on establishments, upon which the ~vise and good ha~e labour- ~d for ages. And if it is thought an incontestible mark of a base and vulgar mind in private life, to decide intrusively and peremptorily on personal affairs, which do not concern us, and which we do not understand, we see not what can apologize for that ferocious spirit of censure, which sweeps through a great, populous, respectable, intelligent community; takes l~l.] 1he English Universities. 5 high names in vain ; asperses characters, which are the ob- jects of anations veneration; derides manners, becanse they are l)ectlliar, that is, because they are manners ; and sits in judgment on the work of centuries. With these sentiments we should but condemn ourselves, did we indulge in any flip- pant disparagement of the English Universities. To say that as mere l)laces of instruction they afford the assembled stu- dents less excitement and less aid, than the German Universi- ties, would ho to (leny them a merit, which they do not anx- iously covet. The English Universities are entitled to re- sped, a.s most sl)lendi(l depositories of literary treasures; and were it hut in the libraries which their halls contain, they coul(l not be denied to have paid their debt of utility to each of the transitory generations, which arises, flourishes, and decays beneath their ancient walls. They are entitled to respect, for the labours of a long unbroken line of learned men and accomplished scholars, which have made and will ever make the names of Oxford and Cambridge dear, when the English language shall be what the Latin is now. They are entitled to respect, on the grounds on which, as we have sta- ted, they often claim it, viz, as a suitable abode for the aris- tocracy of the country, during the interval between the re- straints of school, and the calls of life. It has, it must have, a salutary effect on the future character of this important class of the community, thus to bring its members, from a score of family factions, togethei4 to unite them, at least for a year or two, as members of one fraternity, before they plunge into the remorseless rivalries or government an(l life; and even though the literary atmosphere of the place should he wholly left out of the account, though no consideration be had what- ever of the enlargement and illumination of mind that must be caught involuntarily, in a two or three years abode at an academical city, still to have redeemed so much time from the saloons and the ~vorse than saloons of the metropolis, is enough. No one can doubt that the want of som~such nut- sery of character in France, the immediate transition from I)oarding school and private tutelage, to the vices of the capital and the army, was one great cause of the degeneracy of the once gallant heraldry of that country: a (legeneracy un(lCr which. the spirit of the order was so wholly broken, that when the revolution came on, there was found scarce a member of the aristocracy, to assert their claims 4o more privileges and 4 The English Universities. [Jan. greater fortunes, than were ever swept away by a popular storm. Lastly, the English Universities are entitled to respect, as a great integral part of the church establishnient ; and when so considered, some objections often urged to tlieni will lose their force. It is objected, for instance, that at one of the great English Universities, subscription to the thirty- nine articles is necessary for admission, arid at the other for a degree ; and this, if you look upon the Universities as we look on all public institutions in our country, as the l)roperty of the people, the common inheritance of all, seems a hard- ship. But if you consider the Universities as a part of the religious establishment, to murmur against the privileges se- cured to the friends of the ch~~rc in the Universities, or to the children ofthe Universities in the church, is to quarrel with an institution for supporting, encouragi tig, arid uphold- ing itself. Such of our readers as jtidge of foreign institu~ tions, by domestic analogies, may think this last a poor de- fence; and that it vere first to be T)roved that an exclusively na- tional establishment of a particular sect of religion, is not an encroachment on political and civil liberty. We think our- selves that it is; but we are by no means sure that the estab- lishment existing in England could be destroyed, to give place to any thing which might be proposed as a substitute, without bringing in new evils greater than the old. It ought never to be lost sight of, in surveying the institutions of every country, hut our own, that they are not what their wise and good men have deliberately chosen and willed them to be ; but what the wise and good have been able to cull and select, to put together, to repair, to balance one against another, to soften down, explain away, indulge in theory and modify in practice, save in the letter and correct in the spirit, out of those monstrous, revolting, and heathenish institutions, which, un- der the name of the feudal system, took too deep root in the world, to be 500fl if ever eradicated. Perhaps there is not a priest ot prelate of the chu~chi of England, rio, not the anxious expectant, who is counting the pulses of the incum~ bent of a good living to which lie is to succeed, who would not calmly and theoretically allow that, UI)Oi1 the whole, it were to 1)e wished that all advowsons were abolished, and that the state, if it chose to support the clergy, should support in each parish him, whom the people of that parish chose for their souls ph~ siciami. Perhaps there is not a politician in 1821.] The English Universities. 5 England, no, not he who last bought a seat from old Sarun for 7000, (particularly on the late dissolution of l)aiiialnent, which made it necessary, after a years possession, to rebuy it at the same trifling price,) but wouhi think it were better, in the abstract, to district the land, arid send a member to par~ liameist for every sectioii in the country. But where ~vill you begin, and where will you end? And when you have once opened the flood-gates of reform, where so much unprincipled ambition, so much party rage, so much recklessness of those who have all to gain and nothing to lose, so much fond thirst for speculative improvements~ will all press forward to enter, who shall assure you, that reason, and conscienCe. and mercy, will not be put to flight; that kings, and lords, and prelates, and the few who have what the many covet, will not he led to the scaffold, and a bloody despotism of physical force take the place of government and law. For ourselves, ~vih tte ven~ eration we feel for the great masters of English literatn cc, it is iInl)ossible not to transfer no little share of the sentiment t~ the seats of science, where their minds were formed. That American must have a temper, which we are happy nbt to b~ able to comprehend, who could go up into the tower over the gate way of Trinity College or walk round the gardens of Christs, at Cambridge, and think that he was pressing the foot- steps of Newton and Milton, without a thrill which no reason~ ings or ca~ils can keep do~vn. We of America have here an advantage over our English brethren, in that keen enthusiasm which we feel foi- the famous spots and abodes, that are con- secrated to both alike, by the great names associated ~vith- them. To them the constant presence and familiarity ol the scene blunt the edge of the feelings it excites in us, and West-. minister Abbey and Stratford on Avon, awaken an enthusiasm in an American fancy, which the Englishman smiles at, as a sort of l)rovinical rawness. Instead of assenting to those on both sides of the water, who have spoken of Ameiica as tin- fortunate in the ~vant of ancient associations, as condemned to a kind of matter-of-fact, unpoetical newness of national char- acter, we maintain that never nation, since the world began, had so rich a treasure of traditional glory, is it nothing to be born, as it were, with the birthright of two native lands; to sail acr(iss the world of waters, and be hailed bevoed it by the sound of your native tongue ? Is it not hi~ig to find in an- other hemisphere the names, the customs, and the dress of 6 The English Universities. [Jan. your own; to be able to trace your ancestry back, not to the ranks of a semi-barbarous conqueror, or the poor u~ytliology of vagrants and fugitives of fabulous days, but to noble, high- minded men in an age of glory, than which a brighter never dawned on the world? Is it nothing to be able, as you set your foot on the English soil, and with a heart going back to all the proud emotions which bind you at the moment to the happy home you have left, to be able still, nevertheless, to ex- claim, with more than poetical, with literal natural truth, Salve! magna Parens Frugum, Saturnia tellus, inagna, vir~m If there be any feeling, merely national, which can com- pare with this, it should be that which corresponds to it; the complacency, with which it were to be hoped the wise and good friends of British glory in England would regard Ihis flourishing off-set of their own native stock; the pride with which they should witness the progress of their language, their manners, their laws and their literature, over regions wider than the conquests of Alexander; and that not by a forced and military imposition on a conquered land, but by fair and natural inheritance, and still more by voluntary adoption and choice; the joy, with which they should reflect, that not a note is struck at the centre of thought and opinion in the British capital, but is heard and prol)agated by our presses, to the valley of the Missouri, an(l that if the day should come in the progress of national decline, when England skill be gathered with the empires that have been, when her thousar~d ships shall have disappeared from the ocean, and the mighty chain of her wealth shall be l)ro- ken, with which she has so long bound the European world to her chariot-wheels, and mustered the notions, from the banks of the Tagris to the banks of the Don, to march beneath the harmer of her coalitions, that then there will be no unwor- thy descendant to catch her mantle; and that the rich trea- sure of her institutions and character, instead of becoming the unrescued prey of iluns and Vandals, and ~hatever un- couth name of barbarism laid waste of old the refinements of the world, will be preserved, upheld, and perfected in the wes- tern world of promise. We have allowed our feelings to carry us too far from the subject ~ hich we were considering, and from the tribute of 1821.1 The English Universities. 7 resj)ect we wished to pay to the illustrious literary establish- ments of England. But xve would have this tribute as honest as it is hearty aiid sincere; and we cannot therefore but express with it the Opinion, that though the English Univer- sities do not profess to be simply schools of instruction, still that, even in this department, some improvements might be made, and that the youth of rank and fortune ~vhich resort to them, might fill up their time more profitably and usefully, as well as innocently, by a more zealous and extensive course of aca(lemical study, than we believe prevails at them. rfhe tin- exampled success of Blackstones lectures on the law, and the permanent service which they have rendered the study of that I)rofession, ought to encourage a iiiore frequent imitation of the example. On the continent, at least in those parts of it where l)ublic education is on a good footing, the children of the aristocracy pass the time of their residence at the Uni- versity, in attending courses of lectures on the law, ou history, geography and statistics, on the natural sciences, on diplomacy. These are thought to merit their attention, as those who are to fill the front ranks in society; while, at the English Universities, the zeal and eflbrts of the same class are chiefly (lirected to general classical studies, or the abstract study of the mathe- inatics, each of which is worthy of great attention, but neither zior~ both affiwding exclusi~ ely an adequate training for the future politician, statesman, legislator, or man of affluent leis- ure. It is tmo rare thing to hear beautiful Latin arid Greek quotations, in the house of commons in England, often, we suppose, the remains of passages imposed to be gotten by heart, as the punishment of some school-boy delinquency; but it would take a great many such quotatians to compensate for the anecdote recorded by Edwards, of a noble and learn- ed earl, who presided at the hearing of a law question, which caine by appeal from one of the sugar colonies, and who, thinking it necessary to give some account of the nature (~f rum and molassesmuch being stated in the plea(liligs, con- cerning the value of those commoditiesassured his auditors, with great solemnity, that Molasses ~vas the raw arid mm- concocted juice, extracted from the cane, and from which sugar was afterwards made by boiling? * It has appeared to us, if with a limited acquaintance we Preface to the History of the West-Indies. 8 1he Engtisli rTftiversities. [3an~ have a right to judge of the subject, that t~o much attainable good is sacrificed, at the English Universities, by adherence to ancient pres riptions. We know not where else in the world so rnurificent a patronage of learning exists as the en- dowinent of the fellowships at Oxford and Cambridge. It is said that ihe revenues of the richest fellowships are 800 a year, a salary a~ high, or higher, than that of the g~wernor or chief justice of Massachusetts. The number of fellow~ ships so rich as this may not be large, but the whole annual a~mnt al)propriated in this wa~ to the support of men of learteng, at the Universities, is well known to be great; great ever, with the less frugal E~glish notions of an appointment. And yet the manner in which these livings are attained, and the tenureby which they are held, prevent them, we appre- bend, from rendering half the good to the cause of learning, of which nuder a diflerent administration they might be made productive. Some fellowships indeed are open to all the world, as those of Trinity College, Cambridge; others are liwite(l to certai districts of counties, others to single coun- ties, to single parishes, to single schools. At Oxford, the Magdaleti fellowships are said to be the best. Of these, five belong to the diocess of Winchester, seven to the county of Lincoln, four to Oxford, three to Berks, & c. At new college, Oxford, the fellows must he elected from Winchester school ; and at Kings college. Cambridge, from E~on school. This holds of scholarships, another class of establishments similar in nature, though sul)ordiuate in rank, to fellowships, and which should be considered as a part of the system, inasmuch as the fellows, if we are not misinformed, are chosen from among the scholars. We suppose that when these establishments were originally founded, the literary and clerical profession, for these were then identical, could not support itself; and it was necessary that permanent provision should be made for those, who were to teach and preach. as there is now adays for those who fight. The colleges were founded, to afford such provision for the training and supporting of the clergy. Places of gen- eral C(luCatioO, we suppose, they were not ; for there was nobody, at the period of the establishment of the more an cient of them, to be educated. It is .~nly an improvement, forc.~d upon them by the progress of society, that other s(hol- ars, besides the stipendiaries on the foundations, have been 1821.] The .Engtish Universities. 9 received at them to be educated. Now that the wealth acquir~ ed by the commercial and agricultural classes has built up a middle order of socidy, unknown in the feudal ages, possessed of the means of pursuing whatever calling inclination may suggest, the original object of the colleges, viz. as iridispensa- ble i1urseries for literary and clerical men, has become, if not subordinate, at least only collaterally important. There would now be learned men enough and clergymen enough, without so many or so rich fellowships and scholarships; and as England is the only country in the ~vorld, where such es- tablishments exist in any considerable degree, so without them England would he able, as well as other countries, to provide for the interests of literature and the church. There is rio doubt but that, in many single cases, the pat- ronage afforded by these establishments is, in the highest de- gree, seasonable in its application, and happy in its effects. But that the whole system, as existing in all its parts, is sal- nable in proportion to the costliness of the apparatus, we can- not fully persuade ourselves. A boy makes interest to be put on the foundation at QflC of the great schools, at Eton, West- minster, Winchester, Merchaiit tailors; or he is put on such a foundation, because he was born in a certain parish, county, or diocess. Once a scholar there, he usually becomes a scholar at some college. He then becomes fellow, and at last succeeds to the first living in the gift of his college, that falls in, which happens on an average at the age of forty or forty-five. The moral effect of this system on the hearts and characters of the aspirants is feelingly and eloquently described, by the in- genions author of Espriellas letters. The literary effect of the whole system is, that from hoyhood, the individual secures a provision for life. It may be that lie shall all along deserve such provision, and turn it to the account of religion and let- ters. But in no step of the progress does lie enjoy the pat- ronage because he deserves it, but because he had the good fortune to get into the circle, which is moving round, a~d will bring him his turn in due time. Now we do really think that this must of itself encourage indolence, and bring on arm indifference to personal reputation. But the evil goes farther, for so many places in the church, as are thus appended to the fellowships, are so many rewards of exertion and merit re- moved from the market, so that a less worthy candidate may be promoted, and a more worthy one neglected. Besides .7Vew Series, No. 5. 2 10 The English Unitersities. [Jan. this patronage in the church thus forestalled, the fellowships themselves present a vast amount of patronage, which might be turned to greater account, by haviiig greater respect to merit in its distribution. If it be said that the fellows earn their support, by the services they personally render to learning and religion, we are not disposed to deny that they do all that can be expected of men in their place, free from the spur of necessity, not wrought upon by emulation, under the lethargic air which has infested all establishments from the beginning. As instructers at the universities they serve the public; but a portion only of them are wanted in this way; and the circum- stance that the fellowship is but a temporary provision, and that as soon as a few years experience have well qualified an individual as an instructer, he is likely to be called away to a living, makes the fellowships of less use, even in this respect, than might be expected. While at the present day, and in England, learning is really so much honored, and employed, and so well paid, that it cannot be thought that its interests would suffer, were these appropriations for the support of an order of learned men in a state of celibacy (for that is the universal condition of fellowship) thrown into the common stock, to find their way into the hands of the industrious and the deserving. But it is more than time to turn from these remarks, which we hope are not open to the censure we have ourselves pro- nounced at the beginning of the article, on impertinent judg- ments of foreign institutions which we do not understand. The volume before us contains the lectures delivered by Dr. Copleston, then fellow and now provost or master of Oriel college, in capacity of Professor of Poetry. This professor- ship was founded by Dr. Birkhead; the professor is elected for a period of five years, and is capable of one re-elec- tion. His lectures are delivered but once a term, and in the Latin language. It is sufficient to repeat the list of the predecessors of Dr. Copleston, to show the respecta- bility of the professorship. Their names are Dr. Trap, Thomas Warton, John Whitfield, Bishop Lowth, whose cele- brated work on Hebrew poetry was the lectures delivered on this foundation, William Hawkins, Thomas Warton, Dr. Wheeler, Bishop Randolph, Dr. Holmes, and Dr. Hurdis. Of these names, many of them of the first degree of respecta- bility, that of Dr. Lowth alone is enough to confer dignity 1821.] The English Uni~oersities. it on the foundation. To the lectures on Hebrew poetry, is unquestionably to be ascribed the first spring given to the study of the bible, in the enlightened spirit of the modern school of sacred literature. The Latin language, in which they were written, secured them easy access to the German universities and schools, and an edition of them with anno- tations, and an appendix, was soon published by Michaelis, who stood at that time at the head of the biblical critics of his country; and who, as well as his successors, concedes to Bishop Lowth, the merit of having first penetrated into the spirit of Hebrew antiquity, and set the example of the true mode of studying and enjoying its literary remains. This affords one of many examples of the utility of a lin- gua doctorum communis. We suppose there are few schol- ars, who have had occasion to reflect on the subject, who have not had their doubts whether the disuse of the tongue, once common to scholars, be not upon the whole disadvan- tageous to the cause of letters. There was certainly some- thing grand in this learned community of language; in this remedy, by no means inconsiderable, of the great catastrophe of Babel, which enabled the scholar, wherever he went, to find his native tongue; and which, so long as it continued to be the depository of science and literature, emancipated him from this slavery of learning a half a dozen languages. Let us consider, too, how much of our modern literature is translation, or the saying over in one language what had been better said in another, and still more that with all our translations a mountain, a river, or an invisible political boundary makes us substantially strangers to the efforts, which the human mind has made and is making, among our fellow men. One great blow to the universality of the Latin as a learned language, was abolishing the practice of lecturing in it, in the German universities. This was first done by Thomasius, a professor at Hahle, in the beginning of the last century; and his example has so generally prevailed, that few or no lectures are now delivered in that tongue in Ger- many. In the Dutch universities, the practice is still kept up, and all the lectures are delivered in Latin, even those on the national Dutch literature. This language too may there oftener than elsewhere, be heard out of the lecture room. We have heard it more pleasantly, we presume, than accurately, said of Ruhnkenius, the last modern scholar, to I 71w English Unii,ersities. [Jan. whose name the venerable ins is permanently attached, that Latin was the oniy language, lie was able to speak. He was a native of Ponierania, and as such the German was his vet- nacular tongue. That he had lost in his long residence in Holland, without having had occasion to acquire the Dutch, as the whole business of his calling was discharged in Latin. A little bad French he had picked up for society, hut Latin was, his mother tongue. We happened to be present in the study of his late laaiented successor, the illustrious Wytten- bach, at an interview between natives of America, England, Holland, and Greece, where the conversation was of neces- sity conducted in Latin, as the only common tongue. The Latin language ~ as perhaps used for the last time, as a ver- nacuhtr language, by the Hungarian diet. In 1805 it was abolished as the language of this diet, and the native Hunga- rian substituted. This took place in consequence of the efforts made by the Austrian government from the time of Joseph II. to force the German language upon the Hungarians, with the design of eradicating their own. This of course had the effect of making their own doubly precious in their eyes, and so much has it since been cultivated, that it has quite driven out the German and Latin from the schools and the diet; so that now the Hungarian people enjoy the great privilege of speaking, under the appellation of Magyar, a language wholly unique, associated neit her with the Roman, Celtic, Teutonic, or Sclavonian stock, and of course the least likely to be learn- ed, by a for igner, of any tongue in Europe. Such as it is, they pursue it themselves with singular zeal, and not a national press in Europe is more prolific of original works, as well as translations, than that of Pesth, the hungarian capital. It will not be expected of us to go into a minute analysis of the work of Dr. Copleston betire us. We shall content ourselves with briefly indicating its character to our readers, and referring them to the lectures themselves. The general subject is poetry, and this surveyed under a fourfold divis- ion of topics, viz, imitation, the passions, the imagination, an(l the judgment :of which, however, the last is not treated, from the length to which the three first had run. The gen- eral strain of criticism is ingenious and sensible; not imbued with the peculiarities of the modern school, but in the most judicious style of that which l)receded it. The illustrations are all from the Latin and the Greek poets. Unum, quod in 1821.] The English Universities. 13 inateria tam grandi tam pene inlinita tractanda, ea mihi con. stituta est lex, ut unius fere aut duarum ad plurimurn linguarum concludar terminis; quoniam jsta jam ohm a niajoribus recepta est consuetudo ut quicquid intra h~c nostra scholarum spatia in medium proferatur, 11181 accesserit Latini sermonis gratia, id omne quasi rude quiddam atque absonum auresferiat; neque ullius unquam lingua pr~eterquam Gr~eca admixtioneni vel levissirnam patiatur. p. 8. In pursuance of this law there are no examples, but from the Latin and Greek poets; and in addition to their claims to attention as a critical admirable selection they contain of beautiful passages from the ancient masters. In making this selection, Dr. Cople- ston has drawn, not from common second-hand sources, but from a most extensive personal acquaintance with the remains of ancient literature. We are particularly grateful to him, for his quotations from Apohlonitis, in the tenth lecture; and would refer to the passages which they may there find, all modern critics who may be disposed to maintain that classical literature has left us no images of tender, delicate, and heart.. felt love. We confess ourselves to have been, in no small degree, edified by the wholesome doctrines taught in these lectures, by the judicious criticism with which they are enforced, and the examples with which they are illustrated of acknowledged excellence, of excellence which has stood the test of twenty centuries, and of the loss of the language in which they ar@ recorded. We have been too much hii~ried on, these last years. with the rapid, the intense succession of new forms of excellence. It is impossible for any but a most audacious critic not to feel a misgiving, whether a century hence, when all the local and contemporary pageantry with which these shining wonders have come out shall have passed away, and posterity like the Egyptian tribunal for the dead shall sit in judgment on their merit,~it is impossible not to feel a m~giving whether our testimonies of admiration may not be discredited, and our sentences of delight and rapture revers- ed. We have had too much good poetry, to feel sure that it is good; and the tide of popularity and fashion has set too (leep and strong, not to wash away the land-marks of a sane and sober criticism. It is not in human nature and human genius, that this rapidity, this fertility, this porten 14 The English Uftiversities. ~3ah. tous fecundity of excellence should produce nothing but ripe and wholesome fruits. It never happened before, that what was to stand for ages could be thrown off as carelessly and easily, we had almost said as mechanically, as the sheets on which it is printed are thrown off at the press. The ever- lasting laws of the mind will not be so violated and defied. Genius never meant and never will mean the power of work- ing without means, without time, and without pause; nor was it ever given to mortal man to scribble off with a flying pen, what shall be read and be worthy to be read for ever. It is paying no compliment to the literature of tie age, or the merit of an author to assert it. To maintain it, is to turn the high and venerable office of instructing and delight- ing the world into a fantastic legerdemain of effects without causes; and a popular six weeks epic proves not so much the inspiration of the poet, as the treachery of the critic, and the good nature of the public. We are willing to appeal to the honest experience of our readers, for the justice of these remarks. We are confident that already these glittering wonders have begun to detrude each other from the reading desk of the judicious lovers of poetry. Nothing of this is said invidiously. We do think there are passages, and long and frequent passages, iii the poems of Scott, and Byron, and Southey, which will be read while any thing English shall be read, which will be admired when London is a sheep- walk. But these passages are associated with a mass of what is merely popular, pleasing, agreeable to the present generation under t6e prevailing taste, nor can we honestly say that we think the age has produced one standard classi- cal poem, with which it could boldly enter the lists of epic immortality. The latinity of Dr. Coplestons lectures is easy and clas- sical, and well sustains the character of the English school. We have been disposed to give the palm of latinity to the modern Italian scholars, and next to them to the Duty. But we are miot sure that such comparisons are made with safety, and the judgment of the critic fails from the same cause which affects the taste of the writer, the ringing of his own idiom in his ears. The modern writers of Latin fall into two errors, quite opposite in their nature, from this same source. On the one hand, some vernacular idioms and forms of speech will intrude themselves; and on the other hand, in 1821.] The English Universities. 15 their zeal to escape from these, they run into an extravagant accumulation of Roman peculiarities, and not seldom into forms, which are no otherwise Latin, than that they are not English, nor German, nor Italian. We think the English Latin is marked by the first fault, and the German Latin by the second; the English is too easy and the German too hard. iBut we do not think Dr. Coplestons lectures obnoxious to this exception, and must confess that we much prefer his style of latinity, to the Centonic manner of the preface to iBellendenus~ We think the following translation of an elo- quent passage from Mr. Burke, will give our readers a pleasing and favourable specimen of the language of these lectures. It is from the speech on the Nabob of Arcots debts. I was going to awake your justice toward this unhappy part of our fellow citizens, by bringing before you some of the circum- stances of this plague of hunger. Of all the calamities, which beset and waylay the life of man, this comes the nearest to our heart, and is that wherein the proudest of us all feels himself to be nothing more than he is; but I find myself unable to manage it with decorum: these details are of a species of horror so nau- seous and disgusting; they are so degrading to the sufferers, and to the hearers; they are so humiliating to human nature itself, that on better thoughts, I find it more adviseable to throw a pall over this hideous object, and to leave it to your general concep- tion. This is thus introduced and rendered by Dr. Copleston. Tanti autum esse judico in hoc re summi ac disertissinii yin auctoritatem, quem non multis abhinc annis morte abreptum respublica nostra doluit, ut verba ferme ipsa orationis, quam ohm in frequenti senatu habuit, modo latine versa, apud vos recitandi veniam fidenter petam. Postquam enim ex rebus Indicis male administratis bellum sceleratissimum ista regione exarsisse dixe- rat, quo hello flagrante gens mitis et innocua oppressa malis ac propemodum extincta jacuisset; mox belhicos furores horrendani insuper ac fere inauditamn faniem inseentam esse tuoiistravit. Quam quidem calamitatem, cum suo more, ainplissiino sermo:ie et vaniis eloquenthe luminibus distinctam expossuisset, hunc tan- dem in modum orationis eursum inhibuisse fertur. Cogitabam equidem quo afflicti hujus popuhi magis vos move- rent, aliqua ex peste communi deligere, qum tanqua~n in~sernimre illius fortunme exemplum attente inspiceretis. Quippe cx maui 16 Internal Improvements of .Nbrth Carolina. [Jan. omnibus, qum in vitam bominum incidere solent~ hoc procul dubjo maxime sensuin attingit hurnanuin: neqtae est cujusquarn tam indomita superbia, quin hoc eum quain sit natura debile atque infirnium fateri cogat. Atqui, ut veruin fatear, rein ipsain honeste tractare nequeo. ranta est et tam fmda hujusmodi inaloruin ~deformitas; adeo tetra fuere in patien~o, adeo in dicendo, tur.. pia; tantopere ipsam horninis naturam a propria sede pellere ac detrudere videtitur, ut rem omnem pallio quasi coopertam esse mallem, et quod ipse lingua eirere non audeo, vos tacita mode mente cogitare. ART. 1I.1. Memoir of the Internal Improvements contemplated by the Legislature of J4rth Carolina; and on the Resources and Finances of that State. pp. 88. Raleigh, J. Gales, 1819. 2. Report of sundry surveys made by Hamilton Fulton, Esq. Slate Engineer; agreeably to certain instructions from Judge J~iurphy, chairman, ~ and submitted to the General .Iissembly of .iVorth Carolina at their session in 1819. pp. 70. Raleigh, T. Henderson. ~. The History of .TVorth Carolina; by Hugh Williamson, M~ 0. LL. 0. 2 vols. Bvo. Philadelphia, 1812. T. Dobson. FEW subjects, we suppose, can be more interesting to our readers, than those, which relate to our national improve- ments. While as a nation we are growing in wealth, in physical strength, and moral worth, we are laying a fou,,da.. tion for respectability and happiness, which will not easily be shaken. The strongest safeguard of the liberties of a people is intelligence; the best security of their morals is industry; the surest pledge of their future greatness is a wakeful spirit of enterprize, and a generous emulation. Under a government like ours, and in a country like the United States, every thing depends on manly, spirited, and well regulated exertion. It is the genius of our government to encourage enterprize of every sort, without interposing any more checks, than are essential to preserve its own stability, and secure to all an equality of rights and privi- leges. Every state, and indeed the smallest community, enjoys the same national patronage and protection. There may be local and natural obstructions to improvement; but where

16 Internal Improvements of .Nbrth Carolina. [Jan. omnibus, qum in vitam bominum incidere solent~ hoc procul dubjo maxime sensuin attingit hurnanuin: neqtae est cujusquarn tam indomita superbia, quin hoc eum quain sit natura debile atque infirnium fateri cogat. Atqui, ut veruin fatear, rein ipsain honeste tractare nequeo. ranta est et tam fmda hujusmodi inaloruin ~deformitas; adeo tetra fuere in patien~o, adeo in dicendo, tur.. pia; tantopere ipsam horninis naturam a propria sede pellere ac detrudere videtitur, ut rem omnem pallio quasi coopertam esse mallem, et quod ipse lingua eirere non audeo, vos tacita mode mente cogitare. ART. 1I.1. Memoir of the Internal Improvements contemplated by the Legislature of J4rth Carolina; and on the Resources and Finances of that State. pp. 88. Raleigh, J. Gales, 1819. 2. Report of sundry surveys made by Hamilton Fulton, Esq. Slate Engineer; agreeably to certain instructions from Judge J~iurphy, chairman, ~ and submitted to the General .Iissembly of .iVorth Carolina at their session in 1819. pp. 70. Raleigh, T. Henderson. ~. The History of .TVorth Carolina; by Hugh Williamson, M~ 0. LL. 0. 2 vols. Bvo. Philadelphia, 1812. T. Dobson. FEW subjects, we suppose, can be more interesting to our readers, than those, which relate to our national improve- ments. While as a nation we are growing in wealth, in physical strength, and moral worth, we are laying a fou,,da.. tion for respectability and happiness, which will not easily be shaken. The strongest safeguard of the liberties of a people is intelligence; the best security of their morals is industry; the surest pledge of their future greatness is a wakeful spirit of enterprize, and a generous emulation. Under a government like ours, and in a country like the United States, every thing depends on manly, spirited, and well regulated exertion. It is the genius of our government to encourage enterprize of every sort, without interposing any more checks, than are essential to preserve its own stability, and secure to all an equality of rights and privi- leges. Every state, and indeed the smallest community, enjoys the same national patronage and protection. There may be local and natural obstructions to improvement; but where 1821.] internal Improvements of .TVorth Carolina. 17 there are public spirit, enlightened zeal, and honourable am- bition, it is idle to talk about obstacles,every thing may be done that ought to be done. This remark will apply equally to in(livi(luaIS, corporate bodies, and state legislatures. It all these will dismiss narrow prejudices, and think that only to be private go)d, which promnores general utility, it will be impossible, that we shall not grow up rapidly into an emilight- ened, prosperous. and happy nation. If (liflerent states have contending interests, it is the part of wisdom to make mutual sacrifices for mutual benefits. The most direct and powerful mea~is of improvement rest in the states individually. The compass of each state is sufficiently narrow, and its legislative power sufficiently dif- fused, to render a knowledge of its internal condition, wants, and resources easily attained~ At the same tiume each enjoys full authority, under the constitutional compact, to adopt and put into execution such measures as it chooses for local im- provements, arid to employ f~r this l)UCI)OSO such resources as it can command. Many things should no doubt be left to individual enterprize; yet this may and ought to receive a salutary stimulus from well timed public encouragement. Prudence and economy are estimable virtues even in states; but it is to be feared, that many legislators, who show no lack of wisdom in other things, have had their judgments strangely warped, and their conceptions unhap- pily obscured, by starting with wrong definitions~. and mak- ing an incorrect use of terms, when they have been de- liberating on public improvements. They have cried out prudence and economy, without once dreaming, that they were giving wrong names to certain qualities and affections, called short-sightedness, narrow policy, love of popularity and perhaps selfishness. If they would examine this point a little more, we believe they would at least arrive at the conviction, that to act with timidity is not always to act with discretion. They would learn, that the economy, which ~vill save a fartliing to a constituent on the next tax list, is not always that which will advance Iris ultimate prosperity; and that putting off a good purpose till a more convenient season shows no very strong disposition to do good at any season. That is a miserable economy, which keeps us always in poverty, lie is the truly economical man, who disposes of his means judiciously, but liberally, for beneficial purposes. A~ew Series, No. 6. 13 Internal Improvements of North Carolina. (Ian. If he keeps half his property inactive, he may be a miser, but riot an economist. So it is in a state. That is wretched policy, which tends to check exertion. Nor is that much better, which does not give life and facilities to industry. Where is the benefit of resources rich and powerful, if there be not enlargement of views and public spirit enough to bring them into action? It is not the legislature, which brings down the annual expenditures to the smallest amount, that discovers the truest spirit of economy; but that, which devises the best methods of (lisposing of all the revenues a state can afford, in adding to its political importance, its physical and moral strength, and its permanent prosperity. We may justly suspect the patriotism of him, who is for- ward in the councils of state to diminish the revenue by reducing a tax, Which has always been cheerfully paid; or by removing it, because it happens to be unpopular, as all taxes will be, among the class of people who bear the hea- viest burdens. What a world of debate and bustle have we once had in the halls of our national legislature about a whis- key tax? And what a world of debate and bustle should we again have, if this subject Were brought forward, as it ought to be, and a new tax imposed? Not that a majority of the members are whiskey distillers, or dealers in this precious article; but there is a certain mysterious sympathy betweert the representative and his constituents, which operates with a sort of magical power, especially when the criterion of popular sovereignty, the freedom of election, happens to come into consideratioi~. We are compelled to confess, though we do it reluctantly, that in reading the journals of our national, as well as many of the state legislatures, we have been mortified with nothing so much, as the indiffer- ence with which appropriation bills are generally received, and the coldness with which they are no less generally dis- missed. What has become of the noble project for a national uni- versity? It had the honour of being submitted to a com- mittee, of commanding the attention of the house for a few moments to a short report at the close of a session, and of falling quietly into a sleep, from which it would seem never again likely to be awakened. While small states in Europe, whose positions we can hardly trace on our maps, are endow- ing universities, establishing and affording patronage to 18~t.] Intt~rnal Improvements of .TVortlz Carolina. 19 numerous institutions, we are contented tamely to submit to the reproach ot doing absolutely nothing. We waste millions in long talks about Indian wars, and in never-ending speeches on questions, the very terms of which the whole country forgets almost before the orators have hoisted to half their height the flood-gates of their eloquence. But when the subject is brought forward, which, certainly as much as any other, embraces the vital interests (if the nation, which involves its moral energies, its intellectual greatness, and political dig.. nity, the torrent has then subsided; not a voice has power to raise the feeblest note; not a whisper of approbation is heard; not a figure of rhetoric remains. At most we hear nothing, but a few faint and ill-omened murmurs about the low state of the treasury. We cannot but think, that this subject has been passed over, without that candid and liberal investigation which it rightfully deserves, and which it must receive before we can free ourselves from the reproach, which has been justly drawn down upon us, by our total indifference, as a nation, to the great cause of literature and science. Many of the single states have acted on a more generous plan, and with much more enlightened views. They have acted ~n the undeniable principle, that the happiness of a people is commensurate with its intelligence arid prosperity. They have been convinced, that the members of a large comma- nity can in no way pay their money with a prospect of so much advar~tage to themselves, as in support of literary insti- tutions of various ranks, in advancing schemes of general utility, public works, and plans of internal improvements. in respect to the first of these, it might be invidious to dis~ criminate. If the endeavours of every state in establishing institutions of learning have not been attended with equal success, it is not to be so much attributed to a want of zeal in the legislatures, as to local, and in many instances una- voidable causes. We do not believe any state has done more than it should do; hut whoever will be at the trouble of look- ing over the literary records of the several states will be willing to allow, that within the last few years especially, no one can be charged with a forgetfulness on this subject, and very few reproached for being backward in making liberal appropriations. We canTlot forbear mentioning here the university of Virginia, not only as bearing horiourable testi internal Improvements of .7~orth Carolina. [Jan. mony to the liberality of the state, but as affording one of~ the fi~iest specimens of the arts in this country. We do not hesitate to say, that in elegance of design, in correctness and beauty of architecture, nothing on this side of the Atlantic surpasses the group of colleges now building near Char- lottesville under the immediate direction of Mr. Jefferson. We ha~ e heretofore given our views of the theoretical scheme of this university. We have seen no reason to change these views, but we hope we may be disappointed in our fears, that its soccess may not be adequate to the-large and liberal scale on which it is founded, and to the expectations of its friends and patrons. We are happy to learn also, that the University of Maryland has, by the spirited exertions of a few individ- uals, lately been gaining ground. By a late valuable acqui- sition, it promises, in its medical department, soon to. rival the first schools in this country. Thus it is in regard to literature; but when we come to what may more properly be called internal improvements, we shall find, that some states have left others far behind. New York has shown a spirit of enterprize, and set an example~ which are above all praise. The great canal of the lakes is an undertaking of which the most l)owerful governments on earth might be proud. It is not more a glory to the state, than an honour to the country. The canal of Languedoc, which has long been the boast of France, and perhaps we may say of Europe, is not to he compared with this. Penn- sylvania, for thirty years past. has done much to improve her inland navigation, and to multiply the facilities for internal transportation. rFhe good effects of her wise and well con- ducted measures have long been visible,~and are every day becoming more so, in the growing population and wealth of the state, the high cultivation in many parts, the excellence of the markets, and the increasing comforts of the people. Virginia has lately come forward with a comprehensive and judicious plan for public improvements, and engaged in its exe- cution with liberality and zeal. In a former number (XXII) we have given a particular account of the doings of the board of public works in Virginia. South Carolina has within a short period appropriated a million of dollars to internal improve- ments; and of this su~p it has authorized an annual expenditure of t~vo hundred and fify thousand dollars, under the direction of a board of public works and a principal engineer. 1821.] hternal Improvements of .North Carolina. 21 But we intend it as the chief object of this article, to draw the notice of our readers to the late acts and projected im- provements of North Carolina. We have before us a series of documents on this subject, published some months since, in Raleigh, and drawn up principally by the Hon. A. D. Murphey. These documents prove, that the legislature of North Carolina has engaged in the noble undertaking of internal improvements with an enlargement of plan, and a firmness of purpose not surpassed by any other state. Nor has every thing evaporated in deliberations and schemes. In the proceedihg~ thus far, we discover much wisdom in pro- jecting, and much energy in acting. Till a very late period, North Carolina seems to have held a rank amng the otl,er states by no means proportionate to its significance in itself, or its importance in the union. Among the old states it was the third in magnitude, being larger than New York. It has lately been enlarged by an accession of territory on the western borders of Georgia, which formerly belonged to the Cherokee Indians. In the extent of its population, it now ranks the third or fourth in the union. And yet. with all these claims to consequence, how little have we hitherto heard of North Carolina? Our geographers have drawn a picture, which it has given us no delight to contemplate; and our travellers have most unfortu- nately seen nothing but alternate swamps and sands in the face of the country, and rudeness and ignorance among the people. A half century has scarcely elapsfd, since a worthy traveller from )ur own metrol)olis, after having been in North Caro- lina, came hooie, and gravely wrote in a book, there are but seven proviicial laws throughout the colony, and no courts at all in being. In some things it may be admissible to ju(lge of the whole from a part; but the time is nearly gone by when the public is willing to allow a traveller to have the miraculous power of describing the geography of a coun- try, arid the manners and character of the inhabitants, by passing through one of its obscurest corners, and perhaps passing a day at one of its meanest inns. But from sources scarcely more respectable, it has been our misfortune hitherto to derive the most of our knowledge of North Carolina. It is not to he denied, however, that, although this state has been subject to much misrepresentation, it has not made that progress in general intelligence, refinement, wealth, and agri Internal Improvements of .7Vortl& Carolina. [Jan. cultural improvement, which its many advantages might justly lead us to expect. We believe one reason has been the defec- tive and unsettled government, which prevailed in this state from its first settlement even till the revolution. The colonial governors, and chief officers, were often worthless and depiav- ed. Bad laws were badly gdmiuistered. It is said, that the form of government, which the proprietors of the colony established, was drawn up by Locke. It is remarkable, that a man, who was so great a friend to civil liberty, and who wrote so powerfully in favour of toleration, should propose, as the fundamental principles of a constitution in a new col- ony, a system of articles, one of the most prominent features of which was, that they deprived the people .of all freedom, both civil and religious. The government was founded on the semi-feudal notion of lords, landgraves, and barons, an4 left the people little else to do but to obey. ~t is not cei~tain that this government ever went into a perfect operation, yet, as far as, it was carried, its influence must have been exceed- ingly unfavourable to the improvement, as well as the happi~ ~ss of the people. Another caoue of the slow improvement of North Carolina, and one which no human skill or industry could remove, baa been the obstructions to commerce, which abound along the whole coast of the state. The interior country is intersected by ineny navigable rivers, whose banks are rich and fertile, but not a single point has been found on the coast, at which a safe and commodious port could be establishe4. The conse- quence has been, that the produce has flowed into channels,. which have carried it out of the state to distant markets, an4 the profits of trade have helped to enrich other states, at the. expense of North Carolina. The necessary demand for for- eign articles has been supplied, not by a direct importation,, nor any thing like a mutual interchange of commodities; but by receiving them from domestic ports, and allowing the profits of barter to be made and retained abroad. The effects of this state of things on the banking establishments, and on those commercial facilities arising from a substantial medium. of exchange, are well set forth by Judge Murphey. Men must learn political truths in the school of experience. Such is their obstinacy, that they will learn them no where else. The events of the year ~t9 have taught us lessons of the most inipressive character. If we do not profit by them, we deserve S 1821.] InternaL Improvements qf .Nbrth Carolina. to be lashed still more severely. It is true the distress in pecuni. ary matters, which now prevails in this state, is not to be attrib- uted to one cause only; but it is obvious to a common observer, that the greatest and most operative cause of this distress i~ the scattered condition of our commerce, and the want of a home- market. Having no commercial city in which the staples of our soil can be ex~Shanged for foreign merchandise, our merchants purchase their goods, and contract their debts in Charleston, Pete~s- burg, Baltimore, Philadelphia, and New York. Part of these debts are discharged by shipments of produce; the balance by cash. Once in every year the state is literally drained of its money to pay debts abroad. Our banks, not being able to doas extensive business by bank credits, as is done in large commercial cities, are compelled to issue and throw into circulation their notes to meet the demands of commerce. These notes are col- lected in immense numbers in other states, and returned upon banks for specie, and the banks are compelled not only to curtail their discounts and press their dealers, that they may call in their notes, but upon emergencies to suspend specie payments. The consequence is, that their notes depreciate, and the merchants being obliged to make remittances to other states, sustain the most serious losses. No blame is to be attached to the banks. They have not issued more paper, than the ordinary demands of our commerce require. The evil lies in the condition of the state; a condition, which, in the first place, induces the merchants to contract their debts in other states; and which, in the second place, compels the banks to do business by issues of notes, instead of doing it by bank credits. The old United States bank, with a capital of ten millions of dollars, and making annual dividends of eight per cent, never had in circulation at any one time notes to the amount of five millions. More than one half of its business was done by bank credits. This business was confined to com- mercial cities, where a credit at the bank answered the purposes of merchants as well, and their convenience much better, than bank notes. If North Carolina had her commerce concentrated at one or two points, one or more large commercial cities would grow up. Markets would be found at home for the productions of the state. Foreign merchandise would be imported into the state for the de- mands of the market; our debts would be contracted at home, and our banks would be enabled to change their course of business. They would give activity to the commerce of the state, and yet issue but a small amount of paper; and this amount would be confined in its circulation almost entirely to the state. To these advantages may be added another of no small moment. The profits of our commerce would be made in N~orth Carolina, 24 Internal Impro~ve1nents of .TVbrtA Carolina. [Jan. whereas now they are made in other states. The annual profit made upon our commerce in other states, and which i4Aotally lost to North Carolina, is estimated at more than half a million of dol- lars. .Memoir, p. 6. Speaking iii another place on this subject, Judge Murphey further observes, Heretofore the productions of the northern parts of the state, lying on the Roanoke and its branches, and also on the upper parts of the Tar and Neuse rivers, have been sent to the m~~rkets ()t Virginia; and the trade of Broad river, the Catawba, and Pedee, has gone to South Carolina. Thus it has happened, that we have shipped from our own ports, not more than one third of our agricultural products; and even a considerable portion of our staves, lumber, and naval stores, have been sent to other ports by the Dismal Swamp canal, on one side; or by the Waccainaw, Little Pedee, and Lumber river on the other. This unfortunate division of our trade produces many had effects. We have a population little short of seven hundred thousand. We have as many square miles of territory as the state of New York. X~ e have a soil equal to that of most of the Atlantic states; and yet, the total amount of our exports from our own ports falls short of three millions of dollars. The products of our labour go to swell the exports of Virginia and South Carolina, and give to those states a commercial consequence at our expense. pp. 59, 40. Besides the tendency of these local difficulties to impover.. ish the state, they operate strongly to cool the ardor of public spirit, and to check that laudable pride, which men are so apt to feel, in the growing greatness of the community to which they belong. Those portions of the state, which are obliged to go abroad to seek a market for their produce, it can hardly be expected, will feel much zeal in promoting interests at home, from which they cannot promise themselves adequate benefits. You cannot reasonably look for a community of action, where there is not a very strong assurance of a com- munity of advantage. Men have not yet become so disinter- ested, as to labour with much spirit for a public good, which does not hold out bright prospects of private gain. Thus divided in their immediate interests, it was a long time before the North Carolinians could bring themselves to unite in any extensive scheme for general improvements. But the noble spirit which they have lately discovered, and the wise ineas- uies, ~vhich they have at last adopted, are almost sufficient to atone for their past indifference, and to raise them at once to 1S21.~ Internal Improvements of .TVbrth Carolina. a political rauik in the union, to which other states have scarce1.~ attAined by he gradual advances ot a century. The suoject ~ as first introduced in the General Assembly of the state iii 1815. A committee was appointed, ~ihicb was chiefly intended for the purpose of in estigation. Their report contained a concise view of the condition of the state, pointed out sonic of its commercial advantages, and exhibited a general plan for improving its inland navigation. It proposed to have companies incorporated in different parts of the state, for co4ructis~g canals, and improvung the navigation of the principal rivers, with the privilege of levying a toll to any amount not exceeding fifteen per cent on the capital eXj)e~ded. The state was to take one thir(l p:irt of the stock of each. company, and the whole was to be under the control of a board of commissioners. appomnte(l by the state. This board was empowered to employ a l)rirIciPa~ and assistant engineers, to have such surveys ma(le as it should think prolier, and was required to report its proceedings annually to the General Assembly. It was also instructed to cidlect sta- tistical informnatiin, to examine the soil, and to make such obse~vations on the mineralogy and geology of the state, as might be conip:ititde wish the other objects, and subservient to the interests of science. This plan was adopted by the 1e~islature. l~he Roanoke and Cape Fear Navigation Corn- panics were soon formed, and the commissioners immedi~te1y commened rhe~r operations. They employed some of the most skilhml engineers they could find in the country, and for the three years follo~~ big, they were actively engaged in taking surveys of the large rivers, and of the country between these rivers, where it was thought desirable to have them united by intersecting canals. These rivers were the Roan- eke, Ta?, Neuse, Cape Fear, Yadkin, Catawba, and some others o~ less note. Reports were annually made, and such appropriations granted by the legislature, as were equal to the expenses incurred. The eommissioners had found much difficulty in procuring suitable engineers. Early in the year 1819, one of their board, who was at that time in England, was requested to engsge an engineer from abroad. And even in England, the number of those, who are eminent in that profession, is so small, that much difficulty was experienced in finding a suit- able person. By the advice of Mr. Rennie, and Mr. Telford, .TVew ,Series, JVo. 5. 4 26 Internal Imprcrvement8 of JVorth Carolina. IJan. who are considered the first civil engineers in Europe, Mr. II amilton Fulton was finally engaged at an annual salary of so inewliat more than ~53OO. Mr. Fulton had been employed by the Board of Admiralty, at Bermuda and Malta, and also by the king of Sweden, in laying out the great canal from Gottenburg to the North Sea. In July, 18i9, he arrived in North Carolina, and has since been (leroted to the objects of the co[nmissioners. Our readers will easily perceive, by this short sketch, with what wisdom the whole scheme has been formed. The state has taken the precaution to have accurate surveys made of every part, that no expense may hereafter be wasted in attempts, which must ultimately fail. In different parts of our country, we have seen many such abortive attempts, which might haie succeeded, or at least the expense of trial been saved, by skilful management at first. The commissioners have also acted on the profoundest principles of policy and economy, in securing the aid of an engineer, in whose skill, judgment, amid other qualifications, unlimited confidence can be placed. This is laying a solid foundation. Every thing will have unity of design. Each part will not only sustain itself, but contribute its due share in strengthening the others. On the arrival of the principal engineer, he was presented by the commissioners with a general system of instructions. The objects embraced in these instructions were arranged under the following heads. 1. The inlets on the coast, 2. The sounds along the coast. 3. The primary rivers. 4. The junction of two or more rivers by navigable canals. 5. The public highways. 6. The draining of the marshes and swamps of the eastern and southern counties. p. 20. These outlines are enough to show on what a large scale the legislature of North Carolina has contemplated i$s inter- nal improvements. The interests of every section of the state are duly and wisely consulted. In the application of the public revenue to the various ol~jects of internal improvement, the legislature haN had due regard to the several sections of the slate, and is anxious to give efThct to a sys- tem, which is general, and at the same time definite. One part 27 1 82i~] Infernal Iinprot.ements of .Nbrth Carolina. of the state requires im1)rovements very different from those required in another. The counties bordering on the mountains are at a distance from markets, and have to rely on land carriage. These counties require good turnpike roads. The middle counties are intersected by fine rivers, which are now useless for the purpose of navigation, on account of obstruc- tions, which nature has placed in them. These counties require such obstructions to be removed, and the rivers to be made navi- gable. Tile counties i~x the south and east suffer disease and pes- tilence from their numerous and extensive swamps an(l marshes. Their finest lands lie neglected7 and labour, instead of being directed to the pursuits of productive agriculture, is turned to making tar, an(l collecting turpentine. All the counties in th~ state are interested in improving the inlets on our coast, and in concentrating at a few points our scattered commerce. individual capital is insufficient to effect any of these great oI~ects. They require the resources of the state; and in no way can those resources be so well applied as in making improvements9 which shall aid the health and raise the moral condition of our population; which shall give encouragement to industry and facilities to com- merce. pp. 20, 21. Along the whole coast of North Carolina is a ridge of sand, separated from the main land in some places by narroW sounds, in others by broad bays. r1~his ridge seems to have been prematurely formed by thu eddies occasioned by the counter currents of the gulf stream, and the rivers flowing into the ocean. The sand and alluvial substances, brought down by the rivers, were thus deposited, and in proces~ of time raised into bars and islands. it is this ridge which has always piesented the most formidable obstacles to the com- merce of North Carolina. The passages, or inlets, through it tare shallow and dangerous; and in the whole extent of coast north of Cape Fear, there is only one inlet through which ves- sels pass. This is called Ocracoke inlet. All the navigation of the Roanoke, the Neuse, and Tar rivers, and of the smal- ler streams flowing into the Albemarle amid Painlico sounds, is carried on through this inlet. And here the depth of water over tIme bar in the channel does not exceed fourteen feet; and immediately witimimi the bar is what is called the si.vash, over which there is not usually more than eight feet of water.~ All vessels drawing more than this depth are obliged to be light- endd in passing tIme swash. This is not only exceedingly inconvenient, but often dangerous. And even after encoun 28 Internal Improvements of .iVorth Carolina. CJau. tering the difficulties of entering the sound, a passage from this place to the Roanoke is (liffiCult and tedious. It is con- sidered equal in this respect to a voyage from Ocracoke to the West Indies, or New York. The passage is through Pam- lico t~nd Albemarle sounds, the first of which is eighty, and the other sixty ritiles lii length. One of the first objects of the legislature of North Caro- lina is to remove, as effectually as possible, these obstructions to commerce, by providing a safe arid easy access to the rivers which flow into these sounds. Se~ eral projects have been started and submitted to the inspection of the principal engineer. They are intended to draw his attention to the most prominent particulars in the examinations and surveys, which lie is required to make. One plan Contemplates opening a passage at the lower end of Albeniarle sound, through what is corn rnonly called Roan- oke inlet. Within the bar at this place is Roanoke island, which is mentioned in the accounts of Sir Walter Raleighs expedition to this coast. it is sul)Posed by some, that his ves- sels passed through an inlet here, and anchored under the island; and it is thought to be a question worthy of examina- tion, whether this channel m~y not again be opened. This inlet, it is conceived, may have been closed by the opening of new channels in the marshes, through which the waters of Albemarle sound have flowed into Pamlico, and passed out at Ocracoke. By stopping these channels, it is believed the waters of Albemarle would again force their way through the old Roanoke inlet, and open a passage for navigation. But the great expense attending such an undertakings and its doubtful results, are objections, which no degree of enthusi- asm will probably oiercome. The circumstance, also, that~ this would onl be pros iding for the navigation of Albemarle, without benefiting that of Pamhico, renders it exceedinly important, that a permanent inlet should be found at some poi!r farther south. For this reason it is made a question, whether Ocracoke inlet may not be deepened and improved. But new difilcul- ties start up not less formidable than those above mentioned. From the exposed position of this inlet, the navigation on the coast is dangerous The counter currents, which are occasion- e(l by the tide and the water coming out of the 5O111I(~, cause~the sand-banks to be perpetually changing. There is, moreover, I ~Q1.] internal Improvements of .North Carolina. 29 a peculiar gurgitatirig action in the sands here, which, in a very short. time, swallow up ihe entire wrecks of vessels. This prevents the possibility of sinking piers, ~r of forming any substantial resist~nce to the lorce ot tue waves, or the currents. 1he swash is con11)osed chiefly ot mud, which is continually changing its position. An istand. which Thr erly stood near Ocracoke inlet, was broken up by a furious storm, and in a few years was entirely washed a~ay. A plan, which is thought to be more feasible, than either of the others, is to lix on a point at Beaukut, still farther south. The inlet at this place has not been touch nsed, bnt it is sup posed to be the best on the coast north ol Cape Fear. It. is 8itUated close under the lee shore of Cape Lookout. and pro~ tected from the influence of the golf stream by th j)IO[fl(flIOPy and shoals of Cape Fear. It has been found subject to fewer changes, than any of the inlets. It has a depth of tourteen feet of water oVer the bar; and within the bar there is an ex- tensive and safe harbour. p. 29. To facilitate the intereourie between this place and the numerous rivets to the north, ii is proposed to opeui can. is. A communication may easly be opened with all the large rivers, by a canal Front Wolhianston on the Roanoke, to Washington on the Tar, them e to New- bern on the Neuse; and thence. from smite poiot IAOther down the Neuse, to Beaufort. Steam boats may be employed to navigate the sounds and large rivers, and there can be Its tIe doubt, if such Facilities were (,ffeted, as the circumstances of the ase will admit. that the channel of trade might be divert- ed entirely to this place. It is considered of the greate4 moment, that some easy and direct communication should be opened v ith the oeeao on the coast north of Cape Fear, by means of which the rich and profitable trade of the Roanoke may he secured to North Car- olina. The lands on this river are among the most ~ educ- tive in the United States. Its prodmcts annually For expor- tation may be estimated at two and a half ouiflios of dohlaps. If proper encouragement were given to industry by eendering the river navigable, th~ products would soon exce d lb e mit.. ions. It is navigable for steam boats to FlaliFax, one humnd red and thirty miles from its entrance into AlI)emarle smi d. At present a s~reat portion 4)1 its produce goes to Norfolk through the Dismal Swamp canal. Internal Irnpro~vements qj Xorth carolina. rJan. It is about thirty years since this canal was commenced. At first it was narrow, and imperfectly constructed; but it has been lately much improved. It is thirty two feet wide, and sufficiently deep for boats carrying sixty hgsheads of tobacco, or two hundred and fifty barrels ~f flour. It is twenty one miles long, containing seven lucks, and 5u1)plied with water from lake Drummond, by a small canal three miles in length. This lake, which is near the centre of th& ~ewamp, is at least twenty feet higier than the lau;ls on the margin. It is on account of this swell in the surface f the swamp, that the locks are necessary. A smooth and excellent road is nearly finished on one side ot the anal through~rit its whole extent. During the war, vast quantities of peodoce passed in this direction to i~orftdk. This channel of inter- course is so essential to the prosperity of Norfolk, that the state of Virginia has subscribed very largely ~o the srock of the Boanoke Navigation Company, with the hope of turning the improved trade of this river through the Dismal Swamp canal. And there is if possible a stronger reason why the state of North Carolina should be desirous of drawing it t~ the south. The attention of the principal engineer has furthermore been particularly called to the navigation at the entrance of Cape Fear river. This has hitherto been the principal chan- nel of commerce in the state. The exports from Wilmington have usually been more than twice as much as from all the ether ports. Wilmington is thirty miles above the mouth of the river. Twenty miles below the town are the Flats, where the water is made shoal by the deposits, which result from the meeting of the tide-waters and the current of the river. No vessel can pass over the flats, which draws moPe than eleven feet of water. The questions are to be considered, whether the channel at this place may not be deepened; and whether it will not be best to imiake a port at Smithville, near the mouth of the river, where there is a convenient harbour, and sufficient depth of water. An examination of the sounds along the coast is also to be made, with a view to ascertain in what manner their naviga- tion can be improved. As yet the labours of the commis- sioners have been for the most part directed to the l)rimary rivers. Companies have beon formed for improving the nay- 1821.] Internal Imprcrcements of Xorth Carolina. Si igation of all these ri ers, arid very extensive surveys have been undertaken, amt in some instances already finished. it is observable throughout the United States, that our pri- mary rivers ru ii nearly at right angles ~~ith the great ridges of mountains. Hence they are oftener obstructed by falls, than in almost any other country. This is particularly true of the rivers of North Carolina. They pass over frequent beds of granite. In the upper country the na~igation is to be improved by canals, loks, and sluices; in the lower, by remAoving logs, sand-bats, aiid other obstruci ions. The coin missioners have. given detailed instructions to the engineer, to direct his inquicies into the best means of forming junc- tions by canals between the primary rivers. On the subject of roads they have said little, as their in- structions from the legislature demand a more immediate at~ tetition to the internm~.i navigation of the state. But as good roads are very essential to the agriculturalists, particularly in the western avid less populous parts, and as these roads would be likely to bring some of the produce from the neigh- bouciug states in that quarter to a market inNortli Carolina, the principal engineer is required to mas~e such observations as iPay hem his power, and as may hereafter be useful. It is a question, which, perhaps. will admit of lilausible arguments on both sides, whether roa(ls ever ought t tie made and kept in repair at a geiieral public expense? Why should industrious farmers in ~ne part of the state, who make their own roads, pay a tax to encomiia ~e indolence by aiding the same work in another part ? If petple will n(lt keell good roads for them- selves, it is no more than just, that they should be the suffer ers. As a general rule. this is certaily a good one; but it does not seem to hold in !hose cases where the lol)ulation i~ scattered, where r(iads are made with difficulty, and where, at the same time, they are a great public benefit. The new roads,which have lately been made to so great an extent in the highlands of Scotland, under the direction of the eminent engineer, Mr. Telfoid, have been laid off and fini~ ished at the joint expense otthie government, an(l t~e districts through which they pass. In this way tw thousand miles of free road have been made, of which the govern merit paid ~e half of the expense. Mr. Fulton mentions a mode of keep- ing roads in repair, which is practised in Sweden, and which he says is very effectual. That country is divided Internal Impro~oernents of.Mrtli Carolina. Jan. into districts. Each district has a governor, who apportions a certain extent of road, to be kept in repair, to each owner and occupier of land, accor(ling to the extent of his possession. At the extremity of each portion of the road, the persons ~ whose duty it is to keep it in repair, is rudely cut on a board, which is tixed on the side of the road; so that if a trav- eller meets with a bad Piece of road, he notes it down in a book, which is alvays presented to him when he arrives at the next post-house. In this book there is a number of col- umns for inserting ihe name, route, & c. of the person pass- ing; and always one tk)r remarks of this nature. T he book is returned to the governor etery month, who takes immediate steps to have the zoads put in proper order. By this means their roads are inferior to none in the world. Report of Surveys, p. 52. This may be a good practice in Sweden, but we doubt whether it would be prodoctiie of so happy effects among the citizens of the United States, as Mr. Fuiton may be reatly to imagine. We have titus sketched a very irnperfect outline of the plan of internal improvements, which has been adopted in North Carolina. It is not visionary, nor premature, for it was start- ed nearly five years ago, and has been gradually gaining strength, and going into a more extensive operation ever since. If it continues to be prosecuted ~vith the same wisdom, zeal, arA enlargement of views, with which it has hitherto been marked, it cannot fail to result in the happiest t~onsequen- ces to the state. The good effects, which it promises, are al- most unlimiled. They are by no means confined to a general increase of vealth, and temporary excitement of enterprize. A spur will be given to industry; and industry is the guardi- an of virtue. A people, ~vhich is industrious an(l virtuous, will soon be intelli~ent. You will not only find vice and mo- ral depravity, but ignorance aii(l intellectual imbecility the companions of indolence. A mortg an agricultural people, there is no better nueans of keeping alive an activity of mind, and preserving a purity of manners, than by opening direct an(l profitable channels of trade. Industry may then look for its aml)lest rewar(ls ; and in a country like ours, it will inev- itably be attended with its concomitant blessings of moral ex- cellence, political freedt,m, mental elevation, and the dignity of a jetneus independence. After forming a plan, and pointing out what ought to be 1821.] InteAnal Improvements of .Aortl& Carolina. 35 done, the next concern of the commissioners was to inquire into the ability of the state to execute it. The second part of Judge Murpheys Memoir is taken up with ~ minute sta- tistical view of North Carolina, and a thorough investigation of its resources~ The result is very encouraging. It appears, that the state may calculate on an annual surplus revenue to the amount of $35,000, without increasing its taxation. It is entitled to a loan from the banks of Newbern and Cape Fear, by which it may have the use of ~l60,000 for fourteen years. In addition to these sums, the legislature, with the noblest spirit of liberality, appropriated during the last ses- sion for the purpose of internal improvements the proceeds of the ~ of all the Cherokee lands, which have lately come in- to the possession of North Carolina. I he extent of this tract is not exactly known, but it comprises somewhat more than a million of acres of very valuable land. The following judicious propositions were offered for the consideration of the legisla- ture at the last session; but whether they were accepted we have not been able to learn. That an act be passed, 1. For increasing the subscription of the state in all the navi- gation companies. 2. Appropriating a sum not exceeding S150,000 annually, for seven years, for internal improvements. S. Out of this appropriation, payments to be first made to the navigation companies of such instalments as are called for during the year, and the balance to be expended, first, in making good roads across the mountains and through the Cherokee country; and secondly, in the execution of such other public works as the legislature shall designate, or the board of public works shall think the interests of the state require. 4. To form a board of public works. 5. To place all the public works under the general superinten- dance of this board, and under the immediate direction of the principal engineer. J~1ernoir, p. 78. While on the subject of North Carolina, we cannot resist the inclination which we feel to bring forward one or two other par- ticulars, xvbich exhibit the present condition and future pros- pects of this state in a most favourable light. In an ardent and increasing zeal for the establishment of schools and acad- emies for severaL years past, we do not believe it has been .Vew Series, .Yo. 5. 5 internal Imprcrvemeias of .~Vort1& Carolina. [3ai~ outdone by a single state. The academy at Raleigh was founded in I 8O~. previously to which there were only two in~. stitutions of the kind in the state. The number at present is nearly fifty, and is rapidly increasing. Great pains are taken to l)I~OCure the best instructers from different parts of the country, and we have the best authority for our opinion, that in no part of the Union are the / interests of education better understood, and under better regulations, than in the middle counties of North Carolina. The schools for females are par- ticularly celebrated, and are much resorted to from Georgia,. South Carolina, and Virginia. In the year 1816, the number of students at academies, within the compass of forty miles, amounted to more than one thousand. This space comWized the counties of Warren, Granville, Orange, Wake, Franklin, and two or three others adjoining. All the useful and orna- mental branches of knowledge are taught at most of these institutions. The University of North Carolina, which is at Chapel- Hill in Orange county, was incorporated about thirty years ago, but did not go into active operation for nearly ten years after. It is at present flourishing, contains more than a hun- dred students, and promises to become a useful and important institution. It is under the direction of fifty-five trustees, a number, which we think five times too large. We believe few circumstances have contributed more to retard the success of many of our southern colleges, than this propensity, which seems to be almost universal, of appointing at the outset a multitude of trustees. By this means, many are chosen to the office, who are not qualified; individual responsibility is weakened; no one feels the necessity of acting with much energy in a concern, which is entrusted to so many others; an(l finally nothing is done. Another practice, which is fol.. lowed in some of the states, must effectually stop the progress of any literary institution. We mean the custom of making the professors salaries depend on the annual grants of the Jegislattire. Under such circumstance, they are subject to have their salaries reduced, or to be turned out of their pla- es, by the whim or caprice of a party. The only security for stability in the internal government of an institution, and for having professors of high qualifications, is thus destroyed. In this recurrence to events and circumstances, which re- dound so much to the credit and honor of North Carolina, we i8~1.] Internal Improvements of .TVbrth Carolina. should do equal injustice to our own feelings, and to the patri- otism and generous recollections of the state, not to mention the superb statue, which it has resolved to dedicate to the memory of our great national hero, and which it has employ edthe first art- ist in the world to execute. An example has been set, which we hope vi ill be followed. INo time was lost in idle debates, and ineffectual resolutions. The feelings which gratitude hail awakened, were not allowed to cool by procrastination. In this noble object the legislature acted with promptness and unanimity ; and to show with x~hat spirit it continues to be prosecuted we need only mention, that during the last session, a liberal appropriation was ii;ade for the purpose of enlarging the state-house, and preparing a more commodious room than it now contains, for the reception of this splendid speci- men of the arts. The state-house is a handsome edifice, stand- ing on an elevation in the centre of the beautiful town of Ra- leigh. Before we dismiss this subject, we are disposed to carry hack the minds of our readers for a few moments to an earlier period in the history of North Carolina. Considerable interest has lately been excited. in some parts of the country, respect- ing what has been called the Mecklenburgi Declaration of Inde- pendence. The fact of this declaration has been questioned, but such documents have lately been presented to the public, as must remove every shadow of doubt. It appears that early in the year 1775, a convention was held in the town of Char- lotte, composed of two members from each of the military companies in Meckleuburgh county. The object of the con- vention was to take into consideration the existing state of things, and to deliberate on the best measures for resisting the encroachments, which were making by a foreign enemy on their liberties and property. Their deliberations soon ter- minated in a unanimous agreement to throw off all allegiance to the government of Great Britain, and declare themselves independent. Resolutions to this effect were passed on the 19th of May, more than thirteen months before the declara- tion of independence by the congress, and they were on the same day publicly proclaimed amidst the shouts and huzzas of a large assembly of people. The following extract is taken from a certificate, which has lately been published under the bands of four persons, who were present at the convention, and who are still living. 86 internaL Improvements of .Nortk earolina. ~Jan. We do further certify and declare, that in a few days after the delegates adjourned, Captain James Jack, of the town of Char- lotte, was appointed to carry the resolves to the president of congress, an(l to our representatives, one copy to each, and that his expenses were to be paid by a voluntary subscription. We know that Captain Jack executed the trust, and returned with answers, both from the president, and our delegates in congress, expressive of their entire approbation of the course, that had been pursued, and recommending a continuance in the same ;.and stat- ing that the time would soon come, when the whole continent would follow our example. In a certificate which has lately been obtained from Mr. Jack, who is now living in Georgia, he observes, When the resolutions were finally agreed on, they were pub- licly proclaimed from the court.house door, in the town of Char- lotte, and received with every demonstration of joy by the inhab- itants. I was then solicited to be the bearer of these proceedings to congress. I set out in the following month, and in passing through Salisbury, the general cQurt was sitting. At the request of the Court I handed a copy of the resolutions to Col. Cannon, an at- torney, and they were read aloud in open court. Major William Davidson, and Mr. Avery, an attorney, called on me the evening after, and observed they had heard of but one person, who did not approve them. From this statement we perceive, that the feelings, which dictated these resolutions, were not confined to a small space, but were diffused throughout a large portion of the state. The second and third resolves contained in the declaration will af- ford a good specimen of the spirit by which the whole is characterized. Resolved, That we, the citizens of Mecklenburg country, do hereby dissolve the political bands which have connected us to the mother country, and hereby absolve ourselves from all allegiance to the British crown, and abjure all political connexion, contract, or association with that nation, which has wantonly trampled on our rights and liberties, and inhumanly shed the innocent blood of American patriots at Lexington. Resolved, That we do hereby declare ourselves a free and in- dependent people, are, and of right ought to be, a sovereign and self-governing association, under the control of no power, other 1& 21.) internal Improvements of .North Carolina. 37 than that of God, and the general government of the congress; to the maintenance of which independence we solemnly pledge to each other our mutual co-operation, our lives, our fortunes, and our most sacred honour. The resolutions forming the declaration of independence were drawn up by Dr. Ephraim lirevard. Several original documents relating to this event, and sign- ed by persons, who took arm active part in the Mecklenburgh convention, have been published within a few months past in the Raleigh Register. They have been procured by the exertions of iM i. Joseph Gales, editor of this paper; the Hon. Nathaniel Macon, senator in congress; and Col. William Polk of Ralei~li, who was present in Charlotte, when the dec- laration was read to the people. This evidence we take to he such as must l)rodttce entire conviction, and the fact, which it goes to establish, speaks for itself. We leave it to our readers to make their own reflections on the patriotic zeal, and lofty spirit of freedom, which glowed with so much fer- vour in the bosoms of the North Carolinians at a period, when almost every other part of the country was yielding to de- spondency, perplexed with anxious doubts, or acting with tim- id caution. Of Williamsons history of North Carolina, the tjtle of which we have placed at the head of this article, we have little more to say, than that we have seldom attempted to read, in the shape of history, so meagre, and so unsatisfactory a performance. It contains but few facts, and these, one ~vould suppose, the author took pains to select from the most unim- portant of such as had fallen in his way. It is but just to say, that Dr. Williamson did not reside long in the state, and that his rjreans of obtaining information seem to have been limit- ed. It is certainly unfortunate, that his book should go abroad purporting to be an accurate and complete history. North Carolina was among the first states that were settled; m~ny events in its history are of the most interesting kind; and it would be no less a gratification and benefit to the Imub- lic, than an honour to the state, to have them faithfully and fully recorded by some able hand. 1ri~oaIe ljfr of Voltaire. [Jan. Anr.r. III.... Vie Privi~e de Voltaire et de .~fddarne dt& Cluitelet pendant u~ st~jour de six mois C& tJirey; par tauteur des Lettres Perirviennes, suivie de cinquante lettres in~dites, en vers et en prose, de V~ittaire. 1 vol. Bvo, Paris, 1 82t). THE letters, Which compose the greater part of this work, were written by Madame de Graffigny during a visit of six months at the Chateau of Cirey, the residence of the Marquis and Marchioness du Ch~telet, and where Voltaire was also at the same time a guest. The name of the writer is not much known in the literary world, and she published nothing in her life time but the Peruvian Letters, a work which we have not had the pleasure of inspecting, but which we understand, belongs to the class of sentimental novels, arid enjoys a pretty high reputation in the boarding schools. The present series of letters is also a sort of romance, though a narrative of real events; and to our taste even more interesting than the sor- rows of the tender Zilia in the novel just mentioned, as far as we can form a conjecture in regard to the latter. The story of this little romance of real life is briefly the following. Madame de Graffigny had long been inflamed with an eager desire to make the acquaintance of Voltaire, under the influ- ence of the common delusion, that the conversation and social habits of a distinguished author must be as agreeable as his writings. Her wishes had long been frustrated by the same cause which now prevents our worthy countryman, Captain Symmes, from exploring the interior of the earth through the opening which he has discovered at the North Pole ; the want of disposable means. Chill penury bad for a long time repressed her noble rage, for Madame de Graffigny, though rich in sentiment arid even familiar in the best society, in re- gard to funds was poor indeed, as we shall see hereafter. By great good luck, while she was on a visit at the residence of one of her friends, which she pleasantly denorninates the L~hdtMu de tEnuui, another of the number ariived on a visit with her own equipage. An opening was thus made for Madame de Grafligny to take her projected journey fref of expense, of which she availed herself at once. The first compliment I made her, says our author, was to ask the loan of her horses, which was granted, and the next morning she commenced her expedition at sunrise, and proceeded very prosperously till half past one oclock. Thus far every thing

1ri~oaIe ljfr of Voltaire. [Jan. Anr.r. III.... Vie Privi~e de Voltaire et de .~fddarne dt& Cluitelet pendant u~ st~jour de six mois C& tJirey; par tauteur des Lettres Perirviennes, suivie de cinquante lettres in~dites, en vers et en prose, de V~ittaire. 1 vol. Bvo, Paris, 1 82t). THE letters, Which compose the greater part of this work, were written by Madame de Graffigny during a visit of six months at the Chateau of Cirey, the residence of the Marquis and Marchioness du Ch~telet, and where Voltaire was also at the same time a guest. The name of the writer is not much known in the literary world, and she published nothing in her life time but the Peruvian Letters, a work which we have not had the pleasure of inspecting, but which we understand, belongs to the class of sentimental novels, arid enjoys a pretty high reputation in the boarding schools. The present series of letters is also a sort of romance, though a narrative of real events; and to our taste even more interesting than the sor- rows of the tender Zilia in the novel just mentioned, as far as we can form a conjecture in regard to the latter. The story of this little romance of real life is briefly the following. Madame de Graffigny had long been inflamed with an eager desire to make the acquaintance of Voltaire, under the influ- ence of the common delusion, that the conversation and social habits of a distinguished author must be as agreeable as his writings. Her wishes had long been frustrated by the same cause which now prevents our worthy countryman, Captain Symmes, from exploring the interior of the earth through the opening which he has discovered at the North Pole ; the want of disposable means. Chill penury bad for a long time repressed her noble rage, for Madame de Graffigny, though rich in sentiment arid even familiar in the best society, in re- gard to funds was poor indeed, as we shall see hereafter. By great good luck, while she was on a visit at the residence of one of her friends, which she pleasantly denorninates the L~hdtMu de tEnuui, another of the number ariived on a visit with her own equipage. An opening was thus made for Madame de Grafligny to take her projected journey fref of expense, of which she availed herself at once. The first compliment I made her, says our author, was to ask the loan of her horses, which was granted, and the next morning she commenced her expedition at sunrise, and proceeded very prosperously till half past one oclock. Thus far every thing l8~1.] Fritate ljfe of Voltaire. 39 went well, but at that time, for reasons not sufficiently explain- ed, the coachman refused to go any farther, our s4s~ntimental traveller was obliged tu resort to the post, and after floundering along dismally over the most detestable roads, and wallowing half the way on foot through the mire to avoid being oerset, she arrived at last at Cirey, at two oclock at night, having spent her last sol upon her horses and postillions. line merestazt pus c~ quon appelle un sot. Two oclock at night would be rathet an unpropitious hour in ordinary cases to arrive at a friends house in the country upon a visit; but the inhabitants of Cirey kept no ordinary hours, as we shall see. They were all up and doing. The Nymph and the Idol, as she ingeniously styles Madame do Ch~telet and Voltaire, were each hard at study. in their respective cabinets. She first paid her respects to the former arid then repaired to her own apartment, where the Idol immediately came up to see her, and received her with great kindness. Your idol came up a moment after, holding a little candle in his hand, like a monk. He lavished a thousand caresses upon me, and the expressions of his joy at seeing me were q~uite extravagant. He kissed my hand ten times, and inquired after my health with an air of the most touching interest. Such is the opening of the little sentimental drama we are reviewing, all flowers and sunshine. Madame de Graffigny approached the shrine of her Idol, with the same enthusiasm that our young travelling scholars now feel, when they are admitted to an interview with Lord Byron, or Sir Walter Scott; and for eight or ten days, all went on very well. The conversation is delightful, the suppers are divine, arid the manuscripts they give her to read irresistible. Voltaire is al- ways charming, always attentive. She sees that he is afraid she shall be ennuy~e, but he is much in the wrong. Ennu~p~e in the same house with Voltaire, impossible! She has not even leisure to remember that there is such a thing as ennui in the world. She is as hearty as the Pont Neuf, and as busy as a mouse, and she sleeps like a child. The Nymph is indeed a little cold, but she soon grows familiar. Our author cannot help laughing in her sleeve, at their ridiculous fanaticism about Newton and geometry, but upon the whole she finds them the most agreeable companions, and Cirey quite an en- chanted Castle. This fine weather lasts unfortunately but a little time, and 40 Private l~fr of Voltaire. [Jan. it is soon pretty evident from the style of the letters that a storm is gathering. The inmates of Cirey, like most other persons of genius, or in other words of keen sensibility, were humorous and susceptible, and they speedily took mortal of- fence at a proceeding on the part of Madame de Graffigny, which, taking her own account of it to be true, appears to have been really very innocent. Voltaire employed himself occasionally at this period of his life in writing cantos of a Po- em, called the Maid ofOrleans, which he used to read in private to his particular friends, but had pretty good reasons for keep- ing entirely from public view. Madame de Graffigny was treated with a hearing of one of these precious compositions; and about the same time or soon after intelligence was con- veyed to the Idol, that copies of the same canto ~vere in cir- culation at Luneville, the residence of the correspondent of Madame de t~rafiigny. For the better understanding of the grounds of this quarrel, it may be proper to observe, that the inmates of Cirey were in the laudable practice of opening all the letters, that passed to and from their guests. Having found in one addressed to Mada~xie de Graffigny, by her cor- respondent the following phrase, Le chant de Jeanne est chtr.. mant, they naturally enough put the two circumstances to~ gether, and concluded that she had taken a copy of it by some underhand means and sent it to her correspondent, who, we may remark en passant was Mr. Deveaux, reader to the Exm King of Poland, Stanislaus Leczinski, theii resident at Lune- ville. In her sportive moments she gives him the polite and endearing title of great dog. Madame de Graffigny confi- dently maintains in her letters her innocence of the charge in question, declaring that she had only made some remarks upon the plan of the canto, and that in the phrase above cited, the word plan should have been used instead of chant. As these letters are private communications to the very persons to whom the canto was supposed to be sent, herjustification is certainly l)lausible. But with all our respectfor the delicate feel- ings of this very sentimental person, we must be permitted to re- mark that, under all the circumstances, and ~ith the same means of information possessed by the Nymph and Idol, we should hardly have hesitated in drawing the same conclusion; and we are even not without some suspicions that the charge was substantially true. Be that as it may, the discovery of this offence, real or 1B~1.] rrrvate Ijfr if JToltaire. 41 pretended, was followed by a terrible explosion; anti from this moment the face of things at the castle changes entirely for Madame de Graffigny; no more charming conversations, no more divine suppers, no more delicious manuscrpts. Her eyes grow dim with weeping; she is attacked by the vapours; and this resideiice, where the iiaine of Ennui was never heard of before, is uo~v the dullest spot in the world. Cest lendroit du monde le ?flOWS divertissant. The very resource of her or- dinary friendly and confidential correspondence with Great Dog fails her; since she finds that her letters are regularly opened. But how to get away without a sot in her pocket? This last difficulty aggravates all the rest. She worries along in blank ~adness and continual tears two or three months, till at length an intimate friend, having, it would seem, some pretensions to a nearer title, makes his appearance, ostetisi- bly to relieve the distressed damsel from her tedious thraldom~ His presence revives her hopes, restores her health and eyes, drives off the vapours, and gives the castle arid her coi~res~. pondence all its former gaiety. But this is only a prelude to the last and that the unkindest cut of all. The correspon- dance terminates abruptly by a short letter, in which the bro- ken hearted fair-one informs her friend, that the supposed lover had made her the tender avowal of his complete in- difference, and we are even left entirely in the dark about th~ manner, in which she found her way back to Paris. Thither however she went, and not long after published the Peruvian letters. It is an ill wind that blows nobody any good. The Editor intimates that the disastrous catastrol)he we have just mentioned suggested the plan of this, w~ doubt not, very in- structive work; the writer having depicted her own feelings in those of the tender and desolate Zilia, and represented her cruel and perfidious lover under the character of the false hearted Aza; with what success we must leave it to the fair readers of their history to judge. Such, if we may be allowed to moralize a little on a subject of this importance, is the ordinary course of things on a small scale, as well as on a great one. When delusive dreams and exaggerated hopes lead the van, disappointment early and com- plete is pretty sure to bring up the rear. But we confess that we have hardly seen, within so small a compass of time, place and action, so entire a change of views upon the same subject; and we have derived no small amusement from comparing .New Series, .Ao. 5. 6 42 Private life of Voltaire. ~Jan. the opposite judgments that are delivered at different periods, according to the prevailing disposition of the writer, upon the character of Voltaire. This is sufficiently illustrated in what we have already said of the rapid change in the opinions which Madame de Graffigny entertains and expresses, in the course of a fcw letters; and will still farther appear from the extracts, which we shall lay before our readers in the course of this article. The most valuable part however of the work is the notices it contains of the manners and pursuits of the principal personages. The following description of Voltaires apartments and mode of life at Cirey will perhaps afford amusement to ourreaders. I wrote you yesterday till supper; I was called to supper and conducted to an apartment which I recognized immediately for that of Voltaire. He came to receive me ; nobody else had arriv- ed, and yet I had no time even to cast a glanceVaround, for we went immediately to table. Here I was quite happy; but I should not have been as much so as I ought, if I had not compared this sup- per with that of the preceding evening. What a thing life is! Yes- terday in the darkness and mud, and to-day on enchanted ground! So that I seasoned my supper both with what was within me and without me. But of what did we talk? Of poetry, sciences and arts, and all in a tone of badinage and good breeding. I would fain transmit to you this charming, this enchanting conversation, but that is beyond me. The supper was not abundant, but well chosen, neat and delicate, with a great service of plate. Opposite to me there were five globes, and an apparatus for natural philoso- phy, for wesupped in the little gallery. Voltaire wa~ at my side as polite and attentive as he is amiable and learned. M. du Chit- elet was on the other side of me; this is my regular place, in virtue of wlich my left ear is sweetly charmed, while the right is ennuy~e very slightly, for he speaks little and retires when the meal is finished. With the desert are introduced perfumes, and a conversation as agreeable as instructive ensues. They talk- ed volumes, as you may suppose. There was mention made of Rousseau [Jean Baptiste.] it is there that he shows himself but man after all. He is capable of being irreconcilably offended with any one who sbould.praise Rousseau. At last they talked of poems of all sorts. As for that, said the lady, I cannot bear odes. Fie, said the Idol, what is an ode ? It is the smallest merit in the world to make one. Galimatias,rhapsodies,and above all, this in the marotie style, {he most detestable thing in the world. I cannot conceive how decent people can read such things. Voltaire is always so charming and so devoted to my amuse- 1821.] Private life of 7*iltaire. 4S ment! His attention is never exhausted. You can see that he fears I shall be ennny~e, but he is wrong. To be ennuy~e near Voltaire! Heavens, this is not possible. I have not even leisure to think that there is such a thing as ennui in the woi~1d. So I am a& hearty as the Pont Neuf and as gay as a mouse; whether from eating less or having my mind strongly and agreeably excited, I know not. 1 cannot explain it,but so it is, that I sleep like a child. In a word, I feel by an experience before almost unknown to me that pleasant occupation is the moving spring of life. To relish it the better I sometimes make comparisons of time. The lady, at first rather cold, becomes courteous by degrees, and we end by joking each other. Sh~ is in truth admirable in her daties and her judgments. I wait a longer acquaintance to describe her to you; and I will do the same with respect to Voltaire, for I have learned to beware of prepossession. it is for instance a great pleasure to me to laugh in my sleeve at theirfanaticism about New- ton, and to hear people of so much sense talking nonsense from the power of prejudice. I enter into no disputes, as you will readily believe, but I take advantage of these things for the knowledge of the heart, and I endeavour to abstain from being prepossessed or prejudiced for or against any sentiment, even that of friendship. I have but too firmly resolved but to give my love to you, and to seek nothing but passing amusement elsewhere. This is my pro- fession of faith, which I renew every day. For the rest you can write me at your ease. One pays no postage here. Ismot this civil? I should be glad if they also franked the letters which are written from here. Adieu, my friend, for to-night. Between half past ten and half past eleven every body is called to coffee. This is taken inYoltaires gallery. I have written you from day to day an account of the conversations here. This lasts till noon, an hour more or less, as the company has assembled earlier or later. At twelve oclock the coachmen, as they are call- ed, dine; these coachmen are no other than M. du Chi~telet, the fat lady and her son, who never appears hut to copy. We remain a half an hour, Voltaire, the lady and I; he then makes us a low how and dismisses us. Each one then goes to his chamber. At four oclock there is occasionally a luncheon, at which the family meets again. I seldom go except called, which is not always. At nine oclock we sup and remain together till midnight. Heav- ens, what suppers: it is always that of Damocles; all the pleas- ures are combined, but alas how short the time is. How just is the comparison ; nothing is wanting, not even the sword which is represented in the swift flight of time! M. du Chatelet sits down, eats nothing, sleeps, of course says nothing, and goes out with the covers. To be much alone and then to have good eompany is the 44 Private If fr of Voltaire. Ian life I would choose, nor is it without its charms. Thebrother [M. do iBretenil the brother of Madame dii Ch& teletj is very amiable, pleas. ant and sensible. He is going away on ~i iday. Yesterday after supper there was a charming scene. Voltaire was vexed that the lady would nofet him drink a glass of Rhenish wine; he refused to read Joan to us as he had promised, and was in the highest de~ree of ill hu- mour. The brother and myself by dint of pleasantries succeeded in bringing him to himself: the lady who had also been pouting, could not hold out, and the whole became a scene of the most de- lightful pleasantries, which lasted a great while, and was equal to the canto of Joan, with which it ended. 1 have not found it so very pretty, though I laughed at passages. The following passage, written after the quarrel, is in a dif. ferent tone. It gives an account of the manner in whi~h Vol- taire and Madame du Chfitelet pursued their studies. It will be seen, as we observed before, that they kept no common hours, especially the lady. Speaking of works, I will tell you how much they study. She ~sses the night almost invariably, till five or six oclock in th~ morning, at study. She keeps in her chamber the son of the fat lady, an honest Israelite, whom she em ploys as a copyist, but who does not understand a word of her writing. You think, [supposes that aft~r this she ought to sleep till three oclock in the after- noon. Not at all. She rises at nine or ten oclock in the morn- ing, and at six when she has gone to bed at four oclock, which she calls going to bed at cock crowing. In a word, she sleeps but two hours a day, and leaves her desk in the whole twenty-four hours only at breakfast, which lasts an hour, and during supper and the hour after. Sometimes she eats a morsel at five in th~ afternoon, but it is at her desk and that rarely. On the other hand, when Voltaire undertakes to leave his work for half a quarter of an hour, in the course of the day, to visit me and the fat lady, he never sits. What a frightful tling It is, he says, the time that is lost in talking; that one ought not to lose a moment; that the greatest extravagance is spending time. This is the strain, year in and year out. At the hour of supper he is still at his desk; supper half done, he quits it, and you must lay hands upon him to keep him from going back to it, the moment he has supped He puts himself on duty to tell a few pleasant sto- ries during supper; but it is easy to see that it is from mere polite- ness, and that his mind is far away. This is the mode of life, since the departure of Madames brother, who, by the way, was here but eight days. Do you find this a pleasant sert of life; 1821.1 1?,+oaie 1~fr Qf Toltaire. 45 was not I right in saying to the little saint: Jivent les sots? Be.. sides, Voltaire is the most unhappy man alive. He knows his reputation, and praise is a matter of indifference to him. But fot the same reason, a word from his enemies drives him crazy. He can think of nothing else, and it fills him with bitterness. I can- not give you an idea of this folly, but by assuring you that it is more powerful and wretched, than his talents are vast and com- prehensive. Add to this, that he is subject to the vapours, of which he will not hear a word, which are caused by his jeal- ousies, good man, and then he thinks he is at the point of death. He is constantly physicking, and has got a whim into his head, that abstinence is necessary, and so he is dying with hun- ger. Judge of the happiness of these people, whom we consider to have arrived at the summit of felicity. The quarrels, of which I told you at the beginning, are going on ; judge again. This grieves me. because I feel the worth of all his good qualities, and because he really (leserves to be happier. I would gladly tell him all I think of this, but dare not. Whatever may have been the nature of the connexion be- tween Voltaire and Madame du Chfttelet, which we believe is not entirely made out in the scandalous chronicle, but which there is too much reason to suppose from the prevailing man- ners of the time was not perfectly Platonic, she appears t~ have exercised a very considerable empire over his mind. This may have resulted in part from the asceudency of her high rank and titles. There are some amusing anecdotes of their little domestic differences, which are generally in rather too gossiping a style to suit the gravity of our work. The following however may serve as a specimen.* Et moi aussi je me suis couch~e, car il 6tait une heure et demie du matin. Bonjour, mon ami, ta vois que ma premiere pens~e est pour toi. ainsi allons donc notre train. Voltaire arrive; Ia fantasie prend la dame de Ini faire mettre un autre habit: il est vrai que le sien n~tait pas beau; inais il ~tait bien poudr~, et avait de belles dentelles. Il dit heaucoup de bonnes raisons pour n ~en rien faire, que cela r~froidirait, et quil senrhumait de rien; enfin il eut ha complaisance denvoyer chercher son valet de chambre, pour avoir un habit; il ne he trouva pas dans Im- stant; il crut en ~tre quitte; point du tout, Ia pers& ufion recoin- We have left this and our remaining extracts in the original; as well to afford a specimen of the style of the work, as to gratify such of our readers asin the dearth of new French books among us~might prefer the original to a translation. 46 Private i~fe of Voltaire. [Jan. inen~a, la vivacitt~ prend ~ Voltaire, ii liii pane vivetnent en An.. glais, et~sort de sa charnbre; on envoje un moment apr~s lap.. peler, ii fait dire quil a Ia colique, et voila M~rope au diable. ,Jetais funiense ; Ia dame me pnia de lire tout haut les dialogues de M. Algarotti,je ins, et nis comme le inatin: enfin arriva Inn monsieur du voisinage ; je me levai en disant que jallais voir Voltaire ; Ia dame me dit (IC tacher de le ramener. Je le trouvai avec In dame qui est ici, qui, par p~renthese, uia I~ir de etre sa ~ lidente; il etait de fort bonne huineur, ii pensa oublier quil avait Ia colique. Nous causions deja depuis tin moment, lorsque la dame nous envoya appeler: enfin ii revint ; et cet honime qui venait de rue avec nons, reprit de lhumeur en rentrant (lans Ia chanibre, sous la pi~texte de Ia colique ; ii se mit daus un coin et ne dit mot. Qnelqne temps apr~s le seigneur Ch& telet sortit, les boi~deurs se parlerent en Anglais; et la minute apr~s, .Akrope paint sur Ia scene. Voila le premier signe damour qnejai vu, car us se conduisent avec une d~cence admirable; rnqjs elk tui rend la vie un peu dure. Je ne te fais ce long d~tail que pour te inettre an fait de Ia fa~on dont us sont ensemble. Enfin, ii hit denx actes de .M~rope:je pleurni an premier; ce sont tonjours de beaux vers et de beaux seutimens, rnais les scenes fih~es sont manqu~es; ii y ~choue assez ordinairement. Je ne ten (lirai plus rien, queje ne Iaie tonte entendue. Apr~s cette lecture nous dispnt& mes sur la piece, Ia dame et moi jnsquau souper: die ne laime pas, et Ia tourne en ridicule tant quelle pent; ce qui ne p!aisait gn~re an panvre Voltaire, qui Stait comme un pa.. tiente, sans oser se m~ler en tien de notre dispute. Cest avec ton esprit que jai dispute ; car elle sontenait quon ne pouvait & tre touch~ sans raisonner, et moi je sontenait quil fallnit i~t~ e par sentiment. Je ne disais que ce que je tai entendu dire, et que ce que tu nias si hien appris & sentir. Lauteur avait si peu~ d~tre encore qnereih~, que Le pen qnil disait ~tait contre uuoi, en con.. venaut cependant quil ~tait presque impossible de faire les chan- gemens queile exigeaut. Le sonper a ~ comme un souper (IC Luneville; on se battait les flancs pour parier et personne ne (lisait unot. Apr~s ie sonper, nons~ avons regard6 Ia sphere, Voltaire, Ia grosse dame et moi; car in belie nyinphe ne parloit pas, elle fai- sait semblant de dormir. The ruling passion of the fair Emily was the love of geome~ try, and she thought that no other study was worth pursuing. She tried to persuade Voltaire not to write poetry, and made him publish a work upon the Newtonian philosophy, which was the principal means of first introducing it into France. ile was employed at this time upon the age qf Louis XTh but 1821.] Tri~,ate ljfe of Voltaire. 47, it found no favour in the eyes of the Nymph, and she actually took the manuscript from him and locked it tip in her own desk, refusing to let him finish it under pretence, that there was no use in writing~ a work, which could not be print- ed when it was (lone. Partly from personal jealousy and partly from a fear that he would commit himself by imprudent publications, his motions were all so narrowly observed by her, that lie could not move from one apartment in the house to another, without having a servant sent after him to call hi~n back. .TVe~er man, says Madame de Graffigny, was so strictly watched or ei~oycd so little liberty. The lidlowing anecdote will give an idea of this sort of survedlance. Voltaire was writing a reply to some attack that had been made upon him, which the Nymph did not think it prudent for hrm to publish, and ~vhich he was of course obliged to keep out of her sight and knowledge. Maupertuis, the philosopher, being on a visit there at the time, Voltaire watched his opportunity one day when he thought Madame du Ch~telet entirely occupied with lines and angles, and sent for Madame (le Grafliguiny, thinking to indulge himself with reading her in private a portion of his defence. Before he could finish the first sen- tence, says our sentimental Peruvian, Madame du Ch~teletap peared at the door, her eyes flashing and her countenance pale with anger. After a moment of mutual silence and em.. barrassment, she said to me, Madame, with your permission I wish to speak to .Monsieur. I pretended not - to hear her, and kept my seat. Voltaire then took courage and addressed her thus, Eh bien! oui! I am reading something to Mad- ame; is there any crime in that? She attempted to restrain her rage, and began to criticise and find fault with the work. Voltaire replied, and the dispute was growing warm, when the lady, unable to contain herself, went out in a fury. Madame du Ch~telet, with all her activity and persever.. aimce, seems to have brought but little to l)ass. It was chari- tably said of her by one of her intimate female friends, that smoke without fire was the emblem of her character. Her coin- mentaries on Newton are, we believe, but little valued, and she is flow remembered only by the place she holds in the history of the life of Voltaire. The private habits of these persons are detailed in an aunts- ing way in a letter from Madame do St~iel, n~e de Launey, to Madame dim Deffand, published with this collection. The following passages are extracts: 48 Pri~~~a1~ ljfr qf YoUaire. [Jan. .Miadaw& e du Chdtelet et J~otteire, qin s~1oi~tit arifl~nc~s pour aujourdhoi et quon avait perdus de vue, parurent bier stir le mi nuit, conune deux spectres, avec tine odenr de corps embarm~s quils semhlai& it avoir apport~e de Leurstonibeaux; on sortait de table ; c~taient pourtant des spectres affan#s ii leur fallut tin souper et, qui plus est, des lits qui n~taient pas pr~par~s. Les concierge, deja couch~, se leva ~ graude h& te Gaya, qul avait offert ~on logement pour les cas pressans, force de le ceder dans celui.ci, d& n~nagea avec autant de precipitation et de d~pIaisir quune arrn~e surprise dans son camp, laissant une partie d e son bagage ati pouvoir de lennemi. Voltaire sest bien trouv~ dii gite~ cela na point dii tout console Gaya. Pour Ia dame, son lit iie sest pas trouv~ bien fait, ii a failti Ia d~loger aujourdhui~ Notez que ce lit elle lavait fait,-elle m~me, faute de gens, et avait trouv~ tin difaut (ledliris ses inatelas, ce que je crois, a plus bless~ s~n esprit exact que son corps d4icat: elle a par interim tin appartement qui a ~t6 promis, et qtiefle laissera vendredi oa sainedi pour cehui du Mar~chaI de .Miaillebois, qui sen va tin do ces jours. Nos revenans rI~ se montrent point le jour. us apparurent bier ~ dix heures dii soir; je ne pease par quon les voie gii~re plut6t adjourdhui; lun eat a d~crire de hauts faits4 1autre ~ commenter Newton. us ne veulent ni jouer ni se promener; ce sont bien de nonvaleurs dans tine soci& ~ oi~ leurs doctes & rits ne sont daucun rapport. Voici bien pis : lapparition de ce soir a produit une d~c1amat:on vehemente contre la licence de se choi.. sir des tableaux au cavagnole; cela a ~ pouss~ sur tin ton qui nous est tout a~fait inoui, et soutenti avec tine mod~ration non moms surprenante. Madame du Ch& telet est dhier ~ son troisi~me logement; cUe ne pouvait plus supporter celui queIle avait choisi. II y avait du bruit, de lafzsm6e sans feu. II me semble que cest son embI~me. Lebruit, ce nest pas Ia nuit quil lincommode ~ ce quelle ma dit, mais le jour, ati fort de son travail: ceha derange ses id~es. Elle fait actuellement Ia revue de sesprincipes: cest tin exercice quelle r~it~re chaque ann~e, sans quci us potirraient s6chap- per; et peut-~tre sen aller ii loin quehle nen retrouverait pas tin seul. Je crois bien que sa tote est pour eux tine maison de force et non pas le lieu de leur naissance: cest le cas de veiller soign~ eusenient a leur garde. Efle pref~re he bonheur de cette occupa.. tion ~ tout amusement, et persiste a tie se montrer qu ~ Ia nult close. Voltaire a fait des vera galans, qui r~parent tin pen he inau~ vais effet de leur conduite inusit~e. .-.. La principale actriec Madame dii Ch~telet pr~fkrant lesint& e ~ts do sa~ figure i~ ceux de Ia pi~oe, a pan stir Ie th~& ~re avec tou* 18t 1.] .Priv,ate life of Voltaire. 49 l6clat et 1~l~garite parure dune dame de cour; elle cut stir cc point maille ~ par tir avec Voltaire; mais cest La souveraine et lid lesclave. Je suis tr~ fkcbee de leur depart quoiqu 6xc~d~e de ses diverses vol~tnt~s dont elle mavait remis lexecution. En tout cas on vous garde un hon appartement; cest celui dont Madame du Chatelet. apr~s une revue exacte de toute Ia rnaison, s~t~tit eInpar~e. ii y aura tin peu moms de meubles queIIe ny en avait mis; car die avait divast~ tout ceux par oja elle avait passe pour garuir ceIui-l~. On y a trouv6 six oti sept tables: ii lui en faut de toutes les grarideurs; d immenses pour ~taIer ses pa- piers, de solides poor soutenir son necessaire, de plus h~g~res pour ses pompons. pour ses bijous; et cette belie or(Ionnallce ne la pas garantie dun accident pareil ~ celni qui arriva ~ Philippe quand apres avow ~ Ia nuit ~t ~crire on r~pandit une bouteille dencrc stir ses d~p~ches. La dame tie sest pas piqu6e diiniter Ia modera. thin de ce prince; aussi navait ii ~ciit pie sur des aifTaires d ~tat; et ce qu on lui a barbouill~ c~tait de IaI reinettre au net. sur le g~ore bien plus difficde & Envoil~t n~me sujet, qui doit ~tre 6puis~ je vous en dirai pourtant encore un mot. et cela sera fini. Le lendemain du dipart, je re~ois une lettre de quatre pages, de plus tin billet dans Ic n~rne paquet, qui mannorlce un giant d~sarroi; M. de Voltaire a ~gar~ sa piece, oubli6 de r6tirer les r6les et perdu Ic pro1o~ ue; ii mest eujoint (Id retrouver Ic tout, denvoyer au plus vite le prologue, non par Ia poste, parcequon le copierait; de garder les r6les crainte du m~me accident. et d~enferiner Ia piece sous cent clefs. .Jaurais cru tin loquet suffisant pour garder ce tr~sor! Jai bien d~ment ex~cut~ les ordres. But perhaps we have dwelt too long already upon these follies of the wise, the narrathe of ~vhich is after all but little better than mere scandal. It would even be imprudent to piace too much conlhknce in the gtrict correctness of alt these details, as the fair writers no doubt embellished the facts a little, to give effect to the picture, and make their corres- pondence interesting. No iiidividual, without deviating from a purely literary career, ever turned his talents for writing to so good an ac- count during his lifetime as Voltaire, whether we regard hi~ reputation as an author, the wealth he acquired, or his stand- ing in the best society of Europe. Philosophers and poets have before and since associated with the rich and great, but generally on an unequal footing. Racine and Moliere figured at the court of Louis XIV, as elegant flatterers, as the mis- .New Series, ~ 5. 50 1rii.,ate 1~fe of Tbitaire. [3an. isters of their master~s pleasure; and one ~f his frowns was enough to sink theni into the grave. VAtaire on the contrary was courted and caressed by the two greatest sovereigns of his time, and corresponded with them all his life, in the most familiar way. If they lost their respect for him, instead of dying with chagrin like Racine, he abused them in his turn, and they were glad to make advances to a reconciliation. Poverty has hitherto been the epidemic plague in the republic of letters; and no effectual vaccination has ever yet been provided against it. Voltaire, without auy~ hereditary fortune, placed himself very early in life by the proceeds of his writings, in an easy situation, and his wealth continuing to increase with his years, lie became at last one of the most affluent private genflemen in Europe. Far from living in a humiliating ie~ cuniary dependence on the great with whom he associated, he lent them money. The Mar~chal de Richehieu was a long time in his debt, and perhaps never paid what he owed him. He lived at his castle at Ferney like a sort of independent sovereign, and received from all quarters the homage of his admirers, who went away enchanted with the vivacity of his conversation, and the politeness and elegance of his social habits. Some persons have affected to speak with an air of mystery of his pecuniary resources, as if they had been of a corrupt character. Nothing however can be more improba. ble. We have seen that he lost instead of gaining by his titled friends, and the art of raising money by legerdemain, if it was ever known, has long since perished. He has him- self explained the secret of his wealth in the little tract, enti. fled .Memoirs of his own 1?fe. It is as simple in itself as it is honourable to his good sense and independent character, and bears internal evidence of being the true one. II font litre kconome dans sa jeune1sse: on accumuie insensiblement un fonds. This he says was the maxim upon which he proceeded, and we have seen with what success. He was besides one of the best managers of money in Europe, and was not like some of our men of genius, who are above the vulgar care of their own interest, though they are not above ruining their friends. He employed a part of his property in ~profftable commercial en. terl)rizes, and superintended with great care the investment of the whole. Whatever may be said of the injustice of contemporaries, and the unerring impartiality of posterity, we are of opinion, 1821.3 Private ljfe of Voltaire. 5 hat the best security and prognostic of a high posthumousrep~. utation is a high contemporary one. The world, though not over ceremonious and perhaps at times a little capricious, is gene. erally clear-sighted and substantially just. Every rule, how- ever, admits of exceptions~ and it is a fair question in regard t~ any individual, whether future ages will confirm the judg- ment that was passed upon him, by the one in which he lived. One of Voltaires enemies~ Freron, we believe, being asked whether his reputation would stand the test of time, pointed to the hundred volumes of his works, and replied in the neg. ative, observing that no mans character t~ould support a long journey under the weight of so much baggage. There is no great force however in this remark. Most of the writers, who enjoy the highest reputation, have published a great deal that is not read; and their fame often rests upon one or two of their shortest productions. Fenelon was the author of forty or fifty more or less voluminous works, but is only known by the Telemaghua. Rossuet wrot*3 as many, but We hear of him only by the Funeral Oratiniw aud~ the Discowse on universal History, excepting that a few theolo~ieal students look into the Variations. No voluminous author has perhaps t~rer written in proportion to the e~ti~nt of hi~ works 1e~~ tb~tt will finally be overlooked and forgotten, than Voltaire. His productions of great and acknowledged value, with his core. respondence, made up the bulk of the collection, and there is much reason to anticipate that the letters will be hereafter at least as interesting, if not more so, than the rest, as well from their elegant and lively style, as from the high standing of the persons to whom they are addressed. The remark of Freron is therefore unfounded. With a view to elucidate the point in question, we propose to make a few cursory observations upon the principal works of Voltaire, which on other accounts may not be wholly uninteresting to our readers, although from the little room we have left for it, our notice must necessarily be extremely super~cial. The Henriade is the first in the order of time of Voltaires important works, and as a serious epic, the first in pretensions, hut by general consent not one of the first in value. As we hold it to he very clear that an epic is not more difficult of ex- ecution and does not require higher powers of any kind, than any long poem of the elevated class, a tragedy for example, in which Voltaire succeeded, we must look for the reason of 52 Private life of Voltaire. [Jati. his comI)arative failure to something else beside want of talent. The fact I)robably is, that this poem was written at too early an age, and does not exhibit the maturity of the authors 1)0W- ers. The mind like the body ad~ances in some individuals, by a slow and regular progress, arid in others takes greater strides in a short time. The talent of Virgil tOkk a start of this description in the interval between the Culex arid the Georgics. and the productions of Goethe, prior to the Sorrows of Werther, would never be suspected of coming from the same pen with that work. They are cold, childish and silly, although some of them were of as late an age as two or three and twenty, while in Werther, which followed immediately after, the pen, as was said of Rousseau, burns the paper. Pope, on the contrary, wrote nearly as well at twelve and fourteen as he ever did, and with almost as much maturity of thought, at least if we can believe that he produced at that age the imita- tions of Chaucer. Between the time when Voltaire wrote the Ilenriade and the best of his tragedies, which were his next publications, an interval of several years elapsed, in the course in which he kept his faculties in constant exercise, and, be- sides, er~joyed the advantages of iisiting several foreign coun- tries, and the still greater advantage of bei~g persecuted. Persecution, which crushes a weak mind, unfolds to a strong one the secret of its own powers, that no other process can ever thoroughly develop. We venture to say, that no man was ever great in any department of intellectual exertion, whose soul had not, in some way or other, been tempered in the fiery furnace of adversity. It is no objection to this re- mark to say, that instances may be produced, in which the greatest men have apparently run through a career of unin- terrupted prosperity. The heart knoweth his own bitterness, says the scripture, and its secret trials are not always the least severe. To take an example. For any thing that is publicly known the tIne poet that has touched the enchanting chords of the Northern Harp with such exquisite taste and skill, has led a life of constant success and ease. But what says the epilogue to the Lady of the Lake? * * * Secret griefs the world has never known; That I endured, such woes, enchantress, is thine own. We may add, however, for the consolation of those who are ambitious of greatness, that considering the tolerable mixture 1821.] Fri vale life of Voltaire. 53 of evil which enters into the present state of things, there is no great reason to fear that any body will be in want of this ne- cessary but unfortunately not sole condition. To return from this digression to the Henriade, it is some- times said that the subject is not a remarkably fortunate ~ but although we agree in this opinion, we consider it no apol- ogy for the want of success, as the accident of choosing the best subjects never happens to any but the very best ~~riters. The truth is after all that the Hetiriade is a niuch better poem than is generally supposed by those, ~vho, without having read it, take their opinion of it from crjtics ~ ho are probably in the same predicament. In France. though it is not consid- ered quite so good as the best tragedies of its author. it is much valued and much read. We do not mean .to say that it can be compared with either of the foum great epics: but these happen to he the productions upon which their writers laid out their whole stock of intellectual wealth, particularly the Jeru- salem and the Paradise Lost. For with regard to the Iliad and ~Eneid, the f~rmer is indebted for a large part of its rep- utation to its curiosity as a literary monument, and cannot fairly be brought into comparison with any l)ro(luction of a civilized age; and as to the 4Eneid, if it should be thought extravagant to say that its merits are not greatly superior to those of the Henriade, it will at least be allowed that they are of the same character. The .~neid, as well as the Henriide, is defective in plan, and fails in attracting any interest to the characters. Its great merit is the (harm of the language, the principal one it is true in all poetry, but hich is :.lso to be found in the work of Voltaire, though in a less degree. As a specimen of the style of this poem, we take th liberty of extracting from the vision of Henry, in the seventh book, the passages in which the poet describes the reign of Louis XIV, and the death of the Duke of Burgundy, the pupil of F~u~- ion. It will be observed that the latter is imitated in part from the passage in the sixth book of the ~Eneid, on the death of Marcellus. Ciel! quel pomnpeux amas desclaves ~ genoux Est aux pieds de ce roi, qui les fait trembler tons. Quels honneurs~ quels respects! jamais roi daus ha France Naccoutuma son peuple i~. tant doheissance. Je le vois, conime vous, par la gloire animn~, Mieux ob~i, plus craint, peut-~tre moms aim~ 54 Private 1?ft qf Wtaire~ [Jan. Je le vois t~prouvant des fQrtunes diverses, Trop fier dans ses succ~s, inais firme en ses traverses; De vingt peuples ligu~s bravant seul tout leftort, Admirable en sa vie, et plus grand dans sa mort. Si~cle heureux de Louis, si~cle que Ia nature Dc ses plus beaux presents doit combler sans mesure, Cest toi qui dans Ia 1?rance amenes les beaux arts; Sur toi tout lavenir va porter ses regards; Les muses ~ jainais y fixent leur empire; La toile est anim6e, et le tnarbre respire. Quels sages, rassembI~s dans ces augustes Ijeur, Mesurent Iunivers, et lisant dans les cieux, Et dans Ia nuit obscure apportant La lumi~re, Sondent les profondeurs de la nature enti~re? * * * * S * * * * * * Quel est ce jenue prince en qui Ia majest6 Sur son visage aimable ~clate sans fiertU Dun ocil dinditference ii regarde le tr6ne Ciel! quelle nuit soudaine a mes yeux Jenvironne? La mort, autour de lui vole sans sarr~ter; II tornbe aux pieds de tr~ne, ~tant pros d y monter. O mon fils! des Fran~ais vous voyez le plus juste; Les cieux le formeront de votre sang auguste. Grand Dieu, ne faites vous que montrer aux humains Cette fleur passag~re ouvrage de vos mains fr Helas! que ne~t point fait cette ame vertucuse! La France sous son regne eftt ~ trop heureuse! ii cut entretenu rabondance et Ia paix; Mon fils, il efit compt~ sesjours par ses bienfaits; 11 eukt aim~ son peuple. 0 jour rempli dalarmes! o combien les Fran~ais vont repandre de larmes, Q uand sous La m~me tombe ils verront r~unis Et l~poux et La femme, et La mare et le fils I But whatever may be the real merit of the Henriade, the tragedies are unquestionably the most solid foundation of the poetical fame of Voltaire in his own country. Of the fifteen or twenty poems of this class that are regarded as standard and classical productions by the French, Voltaire contributed about a third part, besides producing many others of some- what inferior merit, that are at times represented and read with pleasure. It would be superfluous to make any particu- lar remarks upon poems so well known to all, who have any ac- quaintance with French literature. It is no serious objection l~21.] ~Nvate l~fr ~ Voltaire. 55 to them that to us, who are accustomed to a different style of tragedy, they appear somewhat stiff and cold, like all the other plays of the French school. The taste for poetry is convention- al in all countries to a degree which is not generally imagined; and when we say that the French school of tragedy does not suit our taste, or (loes not please U55() well as that of Shakspeare and Schiller, we only say in other words that we weie educ at- ed in one country and not in another, without touching in the least degree the question of their relative merits~ And as to this question, which is evidently a mere question of forms, we have always thought it surprising that it shinild be consid- ered so important by all the critics, French, English, and German. it will be admitted that it requires equal genius, and first rate genius to succeed in either school, the classical or the romantic, and the productions of a writer of first rate genius will always, we apprehend, be read with the highest pleasure, however their form may have been modified by his education. We should all say in every such case as Johnson does of the Paradise Lost, notwithstanding his fondness for rhyme, that he should be sorry to have it in any other form~than ~what it is. The truth is, that genius ennobles and ~beautifies every form, so that the question is entirely of a secondary character, which of two given forms is abstractedly superior. And as to the question itself, snch as it is, we must needs say~, though educated in a romantic country, and labouring under the consequent prejudices, that we cannot shutour eyes to the plain fact that the principles of the classical school, in regard to the mere form of tragedy as a work of art, are decidedly preferable. Voltaire adopted the form of tragedy, which had been deter~ mined in France by the success of Corneille and Racine. But in conforming to the same general principles, he avoids some of the faults in taste which are chargeable upon his predeces- sors. We do not see in his tragedies the illustriQus heroes 9t~ former ages introduced merely to languish at the feet of a pretty woman, like the Tituses and Alexanders of Racine, or the (ids and Suetoniuses of Corneille. Gesar in Voltaire as in Shakspeare is the ambitious dictator, while in Corneille he is the knight-errant of the Queen of Egypt We may remark en passant that the author of Waverly has shown a similar good judgment in the management of his characters, and has thereby been the first to rescue the historical romance 56 Fri vate 4fe of Yollaire. [Jan. from the degradation into which it had fallen in the hands of Nadame de Genus, the Misses Porter, and others of that stami). What a contrast between Prince Charles Edward, Claverhouse, Rob Roy, Mr. Oldbuck, arid the rest, all natural business m~n in their way, and such worthies as Thaddeus of Warsaw and Sir William Wallace! And we have here a remarkable proof how little comparative importance belongs to forms of compositions, since we find that the historical novel, which ~as considered hitherto as an illegitimate one and incapable of being treated in a superior way, has turned out in the hands of a man of genius, one of the most agree- able that has ever been attempted. To return to Voltaire :we find in his tragedies a consid- erable tinge of philosophy resulting from the taste of the age and his own, and which sometimes strikes the reader as mis- placed or ill timed. Thus Zaire, a young girl in her teens, brought up from her infancy in the seragljo of the sultan of Jerusalem, and desperately in love with him, can hardly be supposed to think or know much about general prin iples of any kind, and least of all on religious matters: yet she states the grounds of religious toleration with a clearness and pre- cision that might put to shame our gravest doctors of divin- ity. Opinions according to this blooming philosopher are the olThpring of climate. Give me the latitude and longitude where a man was born and educated, and I will tell you his opinions and habits, with the same certainty as the colour of his skin. To persecute or hate a man for his opinions is therefore to persecute him for being born and bred at a cer- tain time and place rather than another, as if this were a thing at his option. Jeusse ~ pros dii Gauge esclave des fiux dieux, Chr~tienne a~ Paris, Musulmane en ces lieux. Now, though all this, is very true, we apprehend that it bears with it internal evidence of being out of place, for the climate of the seraglio of Jerusalem is certainly not the climate of philoso- phy, arid if any such exotic product were forced in it, it Woiildbe more likely to be found among the guardians of that Earthly Paradise than its tenants. Detached verses may be quoted from the tragedies in which philosophical thoughts are expressed with great force and beauty: as the following, Pi#~da~fe ~f FoE taire. Lie premier qui f~t roi fut on soldat heueetiz, Qui sert bien son pays, na pas besoin dayeux. an allusion to the nobte se~itiment of lleGtor in the Iliad, I ~ OE& ~VO~ a(d~,5, a~& yVeO90i %tp~ ~rI~Tp;. The most remarkable however of the philosophical passa- ges in the tragedies is the scene in Mahomet, in which the prophet explatris to the chief magistrate of Mecca the princi- pies which regulate his conduct. It is neither more nor lesa than a discussion between these two personages of the impor- tant philosophical question, how far an indiiidual has a right to undertake a reform of the religion of his country and age, and on whet principles he ought to proceed. Mahomet is the reformer aird Zopyrus the supporter of established. systems. The arguments on both sides of this question are too familiai~ to our readers tfo require any notice of them. Jean Jacques Rm~ssean pronounces this scene to be the best in the ~hiol~ compass of French tragedy. But although it is written witb force and eloquence, it may be doubted whether this judgment of the citizen of Geneva ~ as not dictated in part by personal prejudices. It was natural enough for one ho had often meditated upon this great point of casuistry, to take pleasure in seeing the argument powerfully stated in the finest poetry. But the greater part of the audience would hardly perceive the drift of the controversy, arid of course would take very little interest in it: and the best scene in a tragedy is the one that produces the greatest effect The passions on the contra~ ry being common to all classes, the lowest of the spectators may be nearly as much affected by a striking exhibition of their movements as the high~t, although they may not be able to judge quite so nicely on the merits of the performance as a work of art. If the tragedies of Voltaire are the most solid foundations of his fame in France, his historical works probably contrib- itted more than any of the rest to make him known in foreign countries, and stand as fair a chance of being generally read hereafter. The Essa~,i on the .Afanners of different .Mstiona with the ages of Louis XIV and XV~ form a complete univer- sal history from the time of Charlemagne to the middle of the last century. Besides these he has given in separate works the history of Peter the G~reat, of Charles Xli of Mwedeu, Xew Series, .TVb. 5. S 58 ?rivate l~fr ~f Voltaire. [Jan. and of the French Parliament. The essay on the manners is the most considerable of these productions, and ~vi11 bear a comparison both in respect to style and ~ubstance with any historical work of antierit or modern times; and of all histod ries it is certainly by far the most amusing. No body had previously thought it consistent with the dignity of this kind of writing to relax from a steady and sustained gravity, and it was usual to observe almost as much form and ceremony in describing the actions of kings and princes, as in approaching their persons. Vol~taire being no respecter of authority, dead or living, enlivens his narrative with satirical sallies against the follies of these personages, often not less promi- nent than their crimes; and this, it may be safely said, was the only way of treating with success the barbarous and bloody period which he had chosen for his subject. The work loses something of its interest by the extreme rapidity with which the reader is carried from one event to another. The introductory volume was written at a later period of life when the authors abhorrence of fanaticism had degenerated into fanaticism itself, and has but little value. The Age of Louis XIV is even more llnishe4 and agreeable, as a piece of com- position than the Essay, but the writer with all his philosophy appears to have been dazzled by the military glory of the early part of this reign, or else ~vas making court to his heros successor. The picture of Louis is too much flattered, and the historian dwells with a foolish complacency upon the showy pageants which were exhibited, at court, and which, as every one knows, are not only too frivolous to be ~vorth the public attention, but are mortally tiresome to every body engaged in them, even while they are going on. The Age of Louis XV is an unfinished sketch, but .~ontains some fine passages, as the description of the battle of Fontenoy. The History of Charles XLI is a charming Utfie work, with all the interest of a novel, and is probably more read than any other historical production. The other two are of inferior merit. Besides the works now mentioned, which compose the solid materials of the reputation of this great genius, there is ~a crowd of lighter and smaller productions i~n prose and verse, that are almost eclipsed under the superior splendor of the lar- ger works, but which, had he never written any thing else, would have conferred upon their author the most brilliant rep- utation. Some of them are tainted in a greater or less de 1821.) Private life of Voltaire. 59 gree with a vice which luckily for his reputation, is not to be found in his more important works. Gandide is of this class, the sharpest satire that ever was composed, and one which has gaiety enough, if such a thing were possible, to redeem its grossness. The fine little story of Zadig is free from this exception. It was written expressly for a princess of the royal family of France, and in her house. In addition to this mass of pul)lications in almost every walk of literature, Voltaire found time for ait extensive correspondence with most of the distinguished literary characters, and many of the first political ones in Europe, as Frederic the Great, Catherine II of Russia, the mar& hal de Richelien, president Renault, DAlembert, and others. The greater part of this correspondence has found its way into the collection of his works, and will probably, as we have hinted before, form not the least interesting portion of it, in the opinion of posterity. As one of the multitude of proofs with what a reverence ap- proaching to idolatry, this celebrated person was regarded, it may be remarked that it was debated in the French Acad- emy after his death, whether the chair which he had occupied in that body should not be left forever vacant. The proposi~ tion passed in the negative, but as fhr at least as regarded his immediate successor, it seems to have been acted upon in substance. Ducis, a small poet of the day, took his place and found himself as much at ease as the snail in La Fon- taines fable that froze to death in a lobster shell. We shall draw these remarks to a close with a trifling anec- dote, which perhaps may be new to our readers, and which we lately met with in a French newspaper. We think it carries internal proof of authenticity. It relates to the etymology of the tiame Voltaire, which this writer has rendered so illustrious, and which we believe is commonly thought to have been either entirely arbitrary or taken from some little estate, according to the custom with French gentlemen of that day. It is now sai(l however to be merely a transposition of the letters coni- posing the original signature which lie employed in early life. His family name, it is well known, was .Arouet, and having an elder brother he used to sign his name when young .Ilrouet 1: I. ;le Jeune. The word Voltaire is an anagram or transposi- of the letters in this signature. In conclusion we have to observe, that we have not so far distrusted the, moral sentiment of our readers, as. to imitate 66 Tke propose4 ~ww Tarttl the example of some of the most distinguished of our hneth.. reui abroad, and fail into passionate exclamations Uj)Ofl the umn. morality disclosed by this work, as well in the state of society as in the individulals, whose names occur in our article. No person needs be told that many in the higher classes abroad~ we are not aware that any considerable exception is to be made of ote country over others.are scandalously corrupt, in th@ article 4 private morals. We read their works, recognize their talents, do justice to their accomplishments, mingle as one may say in their company, with this exception, and are on our guard in this point. We indeed, in this country, where th~ suspicion of laxity in the sacred relations of (lomestic life fixes a stigma on its subjects, might claim a right to hear loud testimony, did it~ serve any good purpose, against European COrIUI)tion. But we would gently bint to our English breth- ren to abstain from any similar denunciations of French ~o. ciety, till that great scandal of the civilized world now under the consideration of the peers of the British realm, shall have been disposed of. Airr. IY.~-Report of the Committee of .)Ifercht~mts and others of Boston, on the Tari~fJ Wells & Lilly, 1820, 8vo. PP 20. THE commerce and navigation of the United States h~ve been subjected to a variety of experiments, that were not so much designed directly to advance their prospertty, as to serve other temporary and particular ends. Under the ad- ministration of M r. Jetferson, the commerce of the country Was wielded as a powerful instrument of war; and the restriction of it intended to produce the effects, which are generally brought about by armies and navies. But those were days of party fend and vinience. The non-intercourse and embargo systems were more generally censured or ap- proved, than examined or understood. Men took sides for or against Them, not merely from motives of private interest or views of public policy, but from political feeling, accor- ding to the party to which they happened to belong. A new system of measures powerfully affecting our com- mercial interests, has recently been projected; and it is for- tunate, we think, that it comes forth under the protection of ~o political banner. No administration is now tQ be support-

66 Tke propose4 ~ww Tarttl the example of some of the most distinguished of our hneth.. reui abroad, and fail into passionate exclamations Uj)Ofl the umn. morality disclosed by this work, as well in the state of society as in the individulals, whose names occur in our article. No person needs be told that many in the higher classes abroad~ we are not aware that any considerable exception is to be made of ote country over others.are scandalously corrupt, in th@ article 4 private morals. We read their works, recognize their talents, do justice to their accomplishments, mingle as one may say in their company, with this exception, and are on our guard in this point. We indeed, in this country, where th~ suspicion of laxity in the sacred relations of (lomestic life fixes a stigma on its subjects, might claim a right to hear loud testimony, did it~ serve any good purpose, against European COrIUI)tion. But we would gently bint to our English breth- ren to abstain from any similar denunciations of French ~o. ciety, till that great scandal of the civilized world now under the consideration of the peers of the British realm, shall have been disposed of. Airr. IY.~-Report of the Committee of .)Ifercht~mts and others of Boston, on the Tari~fJ Wells & Lilly, 1820, 8vo. PP 20. THE commerce and navigation of the United States h~ve been subjected to a variety of experiments, that were not so much designed directly to advance their prospertty, as to serve other temporary and particular ends. Under the ad- ministration of M r. Jetferson, the commerce of the country Was wielded as a powerful instrument of war; and the restriction of it intended to produce the effects, which are generally brought about by armies and navies. But those were days of party fend and vinience. The non-intercourse and embargo systems were more generally censured or ap- proved, than examined or understood. Men took sides for or against Them, not merely from motives of private interest or views of public policy, but from political feeling, accor- ding to the party to which they happened to belong. A new system of measures powerfully affecting our com- mercial interests, has recently been projected; and it is for- tunate, we think, that it comes forth under the protection of ~o political banner. No administration is now tQ be support- 18~1.i 2Vwpropoeedurw ?br~ff 61 ed or opposed; and no party dethroned or defended, by the sac~ rifice of national interest or public industry. rim field is open to a fair controversy, and the intelligence of the nation Sits as a judge o~er the skill and adroitness of the combatants. But notwithstanding the experiments to which it has been subjected, the commerce of the United States has, U~OD the whole, enjoyed the favour of the national government, and has beeii protected with care, kindness, and success. The ablest of ow statesmen have devoted their talents to its service; the investigations of our acutest political mconomists have ex- plained the tlrory of its prosperity; the experience of the most eminent merchants has contributed to the practical util- ity of the laws by which it has been regulated; and the commu- nity and the government have thus conspired to secure its regu. lar growth and permanent duration. This protection has not been extended to commerce from blind l)repossession, or any theory ofparty polities, but because at every period of our natitmal existence it has been wianit~st, that the commerce of the country has iiiore than rewarded all the pains.whloh have been taken to promote it; that ~f it be the child of the nation, it is not as it has been ungently called, the spoiled child, enfeebled by misplaced kindness, but the healthy offspring of which we have as much reason to be proud, as of the financial credit and the naval power, of which our commerce has been not so much the friend and patron,~as the creator. In a Count try so large and a community so extensive as ours, it is una~ voidable that commerce should have its enemies, who are jealous of its importance, and would willingly subject it to re- straints and checks. But it is not without its friends, able to prove its claims to protection, and to demonstrate its ability to return the favors it receives.~ T& ~ this latter class we are indebted for the powerful and well written defence of its rights, contained in the paper before us. The danger which now threatens the commerce of the Unit- ed States, and has recently attracted the particular attention as well of its advocates as its opponents, arises from the proposi- tions rep~rted at the last session of congress, by the committee on manufactures. These propositions are known in familiar terms as the new tariff, but have for their object not only a pr(~je te(l change in the laws of imposts and tomlage, but essential alterations in the whole commercial system, particu- larly as to drawback, credit on duties, and saleaby auction. The 62 The proposed new Tanf. [Jan. report before us is confined to the tariff regulating the amount of duties; that being the subject referred to the committee, by which it is reported. The design, however, of the remainder of the propositions alluded to is, equally with the tariff, to direct and control the occupations of one class of men, viz. of commercial men, by granting special~privileges to those en~ gaged in other pursuits, viz, in domestic or internal manufac- tures. Perhaps this mode of expression may not be approved by the advocates of the new system. But we suppose they would readily admit and even defend the design of building up, by the aid of legislation, the manufacturing classes of the. commu~ nity, of enabling the people of the United States to make all they wish to consume,~,and to render the use of the produc~ tions of any foreign country unnecessary and impracticable, if the same articles, or those which will supply their place, can be produced at home; and that should the consequence of these plans be the serious reduction of the foreigu~ojnmerce of the United States, it would not, in their view, be a fatal objec. tion to their design. Looking then upon this as the acknowi.. edged object of the. measures in question, we cannot but ex. press our surprise that a plan, forcibly to change the employ- inent of that immense population, who live directly or mdi. rectly on the commerce of this nation with other nations of the globe, could ever have been seriously contemplated; or in this age of intelligence and reason perseveringly J)ursued. In the year 1816, the population of the United States amounted to 7,239,903. At the same time there were em- ployed in the merchant service, 71,000 seamen. Adding to this number of male adults, as most of them are, the aversge number for the women and children corresponding to this number of men in the census, aiRd the result will give one twentieth of the whole population directly concerned in the commerce and navigation of the country. In the four atlantic New England States, the proportion is much greater. With a population of 1,254,078 souls, they had 596,819 tons of shipping. Calculating the employment of six men for every hundred tons, and adding the proportion of females and children as before, it will be found that nearly one seventh of all the people of New England have a direct employment in navigation. This calculation moreover is upon a fair aver- age; because though less than si~ men to one hundred tous 1B~21.] The proposed ~ew Tariff. 63 are employed in some large ships, on long voyages, yet that is the average number on coasting voyages, and it is increased to eight in the fisheries. At the period mentioned, which is the last of which we have any general and official information, viz. 1816, the tonnage of the United States was estimated at 1,4~4,783 tons, and its value at $71,~39,15O. If we take into consideration the number of men who are employed in constructing, re- pairing, and equipping this amount of shipping, and who of course, with their families are supported by it; the num- bers empLyed in vending the commodities consumed, and in distributing them through the country, and the costs of the wharfs, warehouses, and other accommodations for commerce, which would be in a great degree useless - for ether purposes, and also that in one year (1 816)the customs supplied ~28,586,33O to the treasury, and have yielded to the government, since the establishment of the present constitu- tion, more than three hundred and fifty one millions of dol- lars besides the expenses of collection, we shall be able to form some conception of the immense interests involved in this greatest of all public or private employments; and shall surely hesitate to shake the pillars of that stupendous fabric, which would bring such terrible ruin in its fall. But we are ready to go farther and say, that many districts of the United States are essentially commercial in their hab- its, occupation, and character; and that, in such places, alt the inhabitants are vitally interested in the success of com- mercial enterprise, and would feel acutely every interruption of its course. Where the predominating spirit of a country is commercial, every citizen, whatever be his trade or profes- sion, or however independent it may seem to be of the active pursuits of commerce, is vitally interested in its success; arid the hundred ships of the merchant, whatever may be to him the result of a voyage, neither go nor return without diffusing prosperity far and wide, and moving the busy circles of pop- ulation round us, as wave is moved by wave on the ocean tbrough which they are borne. The same of course may be said of any other occupation which forms the great staple of the community. The habits are fixed, ability is doubled by use, practice has given facility; the channel is worn smooth by time, and the stream of labor flows easily and regularly along. A shipwright might originally have made a skilful The prbp~mect m~ Tartf. [Tan husbaudman, an Miventurotla sailor might haire subdued tti~ enterprising spirit to the task of watc%rng with patience tN~ spindles of a cotton machitie; but change from ~ie to the other is ruinous to both. Now it is not to be supposed that this predominant spirit of the community was at first a thing of arbitrary existence. It must in all cases grow out of deep seated national and pditical causes. Nor is it wise to project a serious alteration in the habits or occupations of a (otnmtanity, which aie the eorvse. quinces of a situation in a hich Providence has cast its mern- hers. A people naturally fearless and enterprising, living Ott a rocky shore, with the ocean breaking at their feet, invited by the facility of building ships arid the safety which an inden- tation of bays and harbors ofThrs them, is destined to march upon the wave; navigation roust neceasarily be their chief employment. Nature, that sever does any thing hi vain, demonstiates her intentions. The art or the laws of man can make only a partial diversioei of its power, as the li~$~tning rod takes now and then a little stream from the clouds, while t~,e lightuings blaae and the thunders roil throughout the expanse of the atmosphere. But is such a design contemplated, or will it result from the system which has been proposed? The measures project. ~d must be the answer to this qrie4iun, and not the accusa- tions of one party, or the professions of another. The repeal of drawbacks, the limitation of credit, the au tion tax, and the a~t to regulate the dirties on imports and for other purposes, are all parts of a system contrived for the avowed purpose of enabling the nation to supply its own re sourcesits rood, clothing, and means of defence. It is dee. dared that to be dependent on foreign nations for the articles essentiat for these purposes is inconsistent with true policy, and that the system, which has entailed this dependence,. must be radicatly changed. This radical change is to be ef~ fected by excluding whatever can be made at home, as far as the home manufacture can s~ipply the market, and by raising the impost ripoi~ nearly all the articles, which we shall cen~. tinue from necessity to import. This is the main principle, the great and commanding fee... tore of the projected scheme, and when its consequences are developed, it will he sees whether they have been too strongly and extravagantly stated. lStl.] The proposed new Tar?ff. Look first to the repeal of the provision for drawback. All that great braisch of business Which consists in the re-exl)orta- tion of article, of I oreigri growth, produce, or manufacture is at once destroycd; becau~e after behig subject to the pay unent of high duties here, they could not be sold in a tireign mar- ket with advantage. the extent of this trade, thus aunihiIat~ ed, may be. seen from official repoits. Exduding fractions, the total value of goods iin~orted in four years ending 10th October 181 8, ~ as four hundred and thirteen millions and a half of dollass, of which sixty two and a half millions were re-exported, with drawback. In seventeen yt~ars ending in 1818, including the period of the embargo and war, the three and a hail per cent. ~ hich was retairle(l on drawback, and which was reduced. in 18 i6 to two ~nd a half per cent. aJnI)Uhted to ~2.3 14~877. But the value in muney is only a partial item in the esti ~te of this trade. It is carried on for the jno~t part in long voyages, by a iruit,us channel; and-ean ploys at profit th capital and labour of the American merchant. When the British government in 1805 a~ 1806, in a paroxysm of capri(ious ag~res~ion on our rights, undertook to denounce a part o( .this trade and sweep it from the ocean, the alarm that spread through the country was excited, not mor0 by the immense amount that became the spoil o~ the illegal plunderer, than by~anxiety for the channels of trade, by which the excess of our imports was in future to find its way to for- eign markets. But the entire trade is now in jeopardy. It is no longem. a question about importations from a helligerents colony, but whether any foreign goods shall be imported, be- yon(I the nMcessary consumption of the country; and whether we shall retain the profit to he derived from their re~exporta- tion, as well as the advantages ef assorted cargoes, which have been found so profitahle in a direct trade, and can only be en~joyed so long as the country remains an eiitrep6t. That this trade is now much smaller than it was at the time to, which the calculations abovementioned were made, can ba readily admitted without affecting the results; for who will deny the possibil~t.y of its again increasing to its former mag-~ nitude? The European world will not always be at peace. The causes of war are riot destroyed; and a breathilig time of peace will but revive the spirits of the comb~ttants. ~Ncw Series, JVb. 5. 66 ~LY~e proposed tzew Tar~fJ [Jan. Moreover though this branch of trade be diminished, why go on to destroy, by our own act, what circumstances have already diminished? There is yet no small quantity remain- ing. American ships begin to sail on terms of equality with those of other nations. We can already, on fair principles, maintain a successful competition with the mercantile marine of the world. If labour is dearer and capital not so abundant, materials are more plenty, and more is required to be done by the same number of hands. To burt1~en this trade with the same charges, that fall on merchandise consumed in the counti~y is to crush what remains of it; and to retire from competition when a concurrence of circumstances shall in. crease it. A wiser policy would perhaps be to liberate it from the 24 per cent. which is now retained by the custom-house. The proposal for reducing the term of credit on duties payable on the importation of foreign goods, separated from the others of which it forms an essential part, may have been considered at least of doubtful utility; but in this connexion is entitled to a different consideration. It makes an essential alteration in existing laws; and in our opinion is decidedly hostile to the general interests of the commercial community; and especially of those young merchants who are beginning their career with more enterprize than capital. The credits as they now stand are as follows, viz: Duties on importations from the West Indies and north of the equator, except Europe, half in six months, and half in nine months. From Europe, one third in eight months, one third in ten months, and one third in twelve months. From the East Indies, one third in eight months, one third in ten months, and one third in eighteen ~months. On wines, one year. On salt, nine months. Teas, one third in eight, ten, and twelve months, or if entered for exportation and deposited as collateral security to the impoi~ters bond, two years credit is given. The projected act, which may yet become a law, enacted, that the duties on all goods and merchandise imported into the United States, shall be paid in cash before a permit shall be granted for landing the same, with the exception of gums and medicinal drugs, spices, coffee, indigo, pepper, salt, ochre, sugar, on which a credit of three and six months is to 1821.] The praposed new Tatjff. 67 be given; and of teas, on which the duties are to be paid in three, six, and nine months. In this bill, however, provision was made to prevent actual payment, if goods are entered for exportation and deposited in the public stores; a provision which would have been wholly nugatory, if the principle of drawback was abolished. Now this is an important, for it is a radical change. It is not justifiable nor pretended to be justified as a measure of revenue, inasmuch as the secretary of the treasury reported to Congress, that since the establishment of the government less than one half of one per cent, on the whole amount of im- posts, had been lost by a failure of payment. rfhat it grants equal facilities to foreigners and American merchants, can be no good reason in favour of this portion of the bill, for the China and East India trade, on which it bears with peculiar severity, is wholly in the hands of our own citizens, and the details of the bill, which might easily have beeii adjusted to such an object, still leave the importation, as it would thereaf- ter exist, on similar terms of equality. Its effect, if not its object, is to curtail the importation of foreign manufactures by diminishing the facility of importing them. The original object of this credit was t~ supply a deficien- cy of capital. In the first place, because the tax on consump- tion, if paid before consumption, must be advanced by the mi- porter, and require an addition to his capital of that whole amount. The average of all duties is a quarter part of the value of the article imported, and on teas about one hundred per cent. on their cost in Canton. To purchase the article would require one capital abroad, while to pay the claim of the government would require another capital at home. The higher the duties, the greater is the want of this credit; and that necessity is increased by a deficiency of capital. The proposed tariff therefore has the double hardship of increas- ing the want and refusing the supply. Nor can it be pre- tended that there is a superabundance of capital in the coun- try. That it has increased, surprisingly increased within the last twenty years, is certainly true. But enterprize, or sl)ectllation, if you so please to call it, has increased still more rapidly, and absorbed the capital, as fast as it has been sup- plied. It has spread in every direction, but it is fixed and not floating. It has enriched the country with solid wealth. New states have been explored and settled; and villages and 1Y~e proposed new Tariff. [Jan. cities built, where but a short time since was the home, or the chase ground of the Indian; but the scarcity (If a monied capital has been every where the subject of complaint and alarm, because so many more objects claimed i~s aid, than tnere were me& .ns o~ satisfying. Hence the multiplication of banks, and the pernicious extent to which it has been attempted to make a fictitious capital perform the serv ices of a real one. If at the present moment there is any redundan. cy of capital, -it is because, by the stagnation of commerce, some part has been liber~ite(l from the usual employment and has not taken as yet any permanent direction. The capital supplied by this credit on duties has been called a loan to the merchants. But this is a name, which should have been nbandoned at the time it was discovered that the consumer and not the importer pays the tax on importation. By means of this facility the merchant, at a cheaper rate, bt~ings foreign goods to the American market, and at the same profit affo~ ds them at a less price. The consumer enjoys the advantage of this reduction, for it is the joint elements of labour and capital that regidate the price in a steady and permanent market; and as these are increased or diminished, so wilkthe price be at which the article is obtained. That the injunction of prompt payment would take the business from the hands of those who had only moderate cap~ itals, that it would lessen the ability of all, and materially di- minish the amount of the foreign trade, ~re facts, which we think cannot heai discussion. The advantage or (lisadvan. tage of this curtailmer:t of commerce is not the point of the inquiry. Thefact of the tenilency of this measure to lessen foreign importations, and with the other measures proposed, very nearly extinguish them, is the subject we are consider~ ing. Nor can it well be denied that such consequences would follow, for we learn from high authority that the object is to effect such a limitation as that a new voyage should not be coml)leted on the capital furnished, by the duties on a former one. That it would deprive fweigners of the trade, if true, would - only prove that it would diminish the amount of importation ; and the supply diminishing, the price must advance. But the tra(le by which foreigners throw into the market a great amount )f property for immediate sale, could not be affected by this measure alone, because any commission merchant, to lYze pr~ipaseJ ~aew TariJ~ 09 whom the cargo was consigned, would as readily pay the cash duty on an ei,dorsenwnt of the oi!1 of lading, as he wiudd te- ceive the goods oil deposit and give bond for the~cargo, if t~e tn)ney was to be refunded immediately by a fi~rced sale at aucti.n. It became necessary thert~fore, to make the barilers complete, to stol) this facility ; and an auctiuin bill, that sh~uld etitorce a prohibitory duty of ten per cent. wa~ repdrted, a~ a part of this anti-commercial system. That the autiou bill IS SO tO be considered, is plain from the fact, that the mo~ent it became a mere measure for revenue, it was thrown out by the W;use of Representatives. So long as it was part of a system, that depressed foreign impirtatio~is and facilitated dfrnestic manufactures, it was urged on by a triumphant ma- jority ; but its eperation, as a financial arrangement, was disclaimed by the chairman of the committee of manufactnres; and when it would answer no other purpose, it was decisively rejected. The operation of such a bill is of doubtful character. That would restrain the importation of foreign goods beyond the demands of the market is probably true; and thereby prevent the depression of price which an over-trade occasions. This would assist the regular importer as well as the domestic manufacturer, who, in this particular, have a common inter- est, at variance = with the consumer, who is always desirous to buy as cheap as he can. But these measures, the withbolding of credit, the draw- back, and the auction bills, are only auxiliary to the main de- sign. The great and controlling character of the system, by which the American people are to command their own resourc- es, become independent of foreign assistance; maintain a real character of freedom ; and increase their wealth, happi- ness and renown, is displayed in the projected tariW. It is necessary to consider this measure in its two fold character of a revenue bill, and a nieasure of political econo- my. So far as it directsT its operations to mere arrangements of finance, and proposes to supply the means of administer- ing the government, it is one thing, and to be examine~J by one set of principles and mode of calculation, So far as it assumes the character of a sumptuary law; as an instrument to compel or even induce men to abandon one mode of business and seek employment in another; so far as it is a measure, which interferes with ~reaL private interests, for the accom jib - 70 The proposed ~ww Tariff, [Ian. inodation or increase of other private interests, alleged to be more conducive to the public good, it is to be tested by other principles and modes of reasoning, It then leaves the mere compting room of the merchant, and demands an elucidation from the enlarged calculations of the statesman, and the ab. strusest principles of political economy. It is obviois that the system in question has both these objects. As a new system for the encouragement of domestic manufactures, it necessarily dries up many streams by which the treasury was supplied; and it assumes the character of a revenue bill, by proposing partial substitutes for the loss. Its advocates leave us in no doubt what course is to be taken to supply the deficiency. It cannot be objected to it as a system, that it is unfinished or incomplete. It marches to its objects with open front, and whichever of them can be accomplished by the means which it contemplates, this system is calculated to eflect. We object to the design of it in both senses, as a revenue bill, and as a Mystem of political & ~onomy; and it is proper to consider it in this light, because the system in itself is indefensible. Nq. skill in the arrangement of details, no nice and artificial ad! justment of smaller parts can compensate for the radical error of attempting to change the habits of a great people, or turn the current of labor, by force of legislative acts, from the natural channel in which it flows, through the locks and canals that may be constructed by its side. The design is to encourage the industry employed in domestic manufactures, to encourage it at the expense of mercantile or agricultural industry. The amount of that expense is not ascertained. Whether it shall in some cases amount to absolute ruin, and in others produce considerable or trifling loss, are questions, for the certain answers of which no sufficient data are provid.. ed. But one thing is certain. All that the manufacturers gain by means of legislation is taken from their fellow-citi. zeus in other l)ursUits; for legislation cannot originate either labour or capital, though it can effectually turn the current of both. It may, to be sure, compel an idle man to work, but its great object in this instance is lather to change than enforce exertion, and this latter circumstance is hardly of importance enough to be called an exception to the general remark. By the provisions of this bill, the merchant is not to be left in the enjoyment of his present facilities. These interfere 1S2 1.3 1keprtposed tww Tariff. with domestic industry, and must be removed. The question should be understood in this light; and it is erroneous and dangerous to encourage other opinions. I am willing, it is often said, to encourage manufactures, but not at the expense of commerce. I will aid them, says another, but not by jeop- ardizing the agricultural interests. This is fallacious. What is done by regulation and laws is only to produce a change in the direction of capital and labour; it is to close one gate that the stream may flow more certainly through another. This is well understood by the intelligent advocates of the system, though an illusion is kept up for those, who think that acts of Congress can create wealth as readily as bank charters were once supposed to produce capital. And the question should be met in this way; is the advantage that will accrue to the nation by the increased effi)rts to encourage and protect domes- tic manufactures, equal to the injury that will result to the nation from the damage done to other classes of the com- munity, by this protection aud encouragement? Is it more than equal, and how much more? For slight convenience and small gains to the public will not justify the infliction of great evil, even on one individual. As a measure of political economy then, this system proposes that every thing which can be made within the country should be made within the country; and that the domestic manufac- turer should have such decided advantages in the home mar- ket, as to beat down foreign competition. To effect this, arti des made of cotton, woollen, or linen, are to be excluded, or greatly diminished by duties nearly prohibitory; and the im- post on hemp, iron, paper, glass, glue, gunpowder, and vari- ous smaller articles, are to be increased from 28} to 100 per cent. The China and East India trade is attacked with i severe, and, as we think, very senseless hostility; and is unreasonably accused, among its other evils, of draining the country of specie. 7f he suggestion is wholly erroneous. A people who have no mines, cannot export more specie than they import; and the demand for specie which is made by this trade, produces the supply which it consumes. Jiesides, this trade furnishes great materials for the carry- hig trade, the importance of which we have already consid- ered. There is another branch of it however, to which we advert with peculiar satisfactioit. It is the entire result of 271w proposed new 7aruff. (3au. American enterprise, perseverance, and labour. Tt takes noth. ing feop1 the country, but returns after a p~oper period, ladea with the rich earnings of its skill. We allude to ~he \~hole commerce of the cauiitry on the northwest coast of Aoieiica, the islands of the Pacific ocean, and the China seas; a coin- merce which nas astonished Eorojw, by the fearlessness with Wteich it is nnd itaken, and the pat jence and perse~erance with which it has been conducted; and ~ihateve,r nay be thought by missionary societies, of the pcopriety of supply- ing the Chinese altars ~ ith sandal wood from the Fejee islaiid~, the statesman has seen in it a rapid transmutation of American enterprise and lahour into proj)erty, by which ths nation h;~s nourished and i;dividuals have grown rich. An attack on the India trade was tiot howevei for the first time made by the proposed tariff. The re~enue bill at present in operation, b~y its prohibitory duty on India lQw priced cot. tons. has d~stroyed the trade in that article for domestic con- sumption. In 1817 fifteen ships were employed fr~~m the port o( Salem alone, in that trade, and in 1819 two only were engaged in it, vor could these continue after the repeal of the drawback. 32 lie ta~ on the consumers for the benefit of the manufacturers of these fabrics is worthy of m4ice. This article is estimat- ed in India at six cents per yard, and may be imported and sold at the short price, that is without any impost, at seven cents per yard with a profit. All that it costs the consumer above that price is its tax for the revenue. About one mill- ion of dollars per annum were paid iiito the treasury, as th. proceeds of the impost on this article alone, and with this im- post the cost to the consumer was only the present price of a similar article in the market. This million of dollars is therefore as di reetly a bounty to the manufactures, as if paid ont of the treasury and divided among them; and the ticas- ury deficit iS supplied by a new tax on sonie other article of consumption. So that the f)rohibitory duty has driven the foreign coarse cottons from the market, the amount of tai on them is l~st to the government, the consumer gets the like article no cheaper than he (lid before, and has to pay his of the million that was received b~ time tax on importa- tion. As a measure of revenue, to supply in part tIme loss occa- sioned to the treasury by diminished importation, the bill pro. vided that the impost on moat articles of necessary cousump The praposed new Tariff. 73 tion, not made or grown here at all, or not produced in suffi- cient quantity to supply the demand, should be increased fr.nn 30 to 0 per cent. Brown sugar is raised from three to foot cents per poun(l; other sugars 25 per cent. The inipost on bohea tea and molasses is doubled, and on salt increased 25 per cent. Wine and spirits remain as before. These are the prominent features of the bill, which we have not room to set out in more detail. Suppose now the object accomplished, which is designed by this system. Suppose the chrysalis state in which we should be passing from .a people essentially commercial, to a people essentially manufacturing, were over, and all the evilsof di~. mm ished supply, extravagant prices, and vexatious imposi.. tions, which attend a new state of affairs, were gone by, and the irritations which they caused forgotten. a time indeed that is not very suddenly to arrive, and a resting Place not found in the early stages of the new turnpike road or which we are to travel. Yet what will be the effect on the comnuiiity when matters are arranged as the advocates of this system propose? This surely is the most advantageous peri~l that c~n be taken for the friends of the measures, for it passes without notice over an interval, however short, of general discontent, whee the benefits of ancient pursuits have ceased to operate, an4 those of the new system have scarcely begun to be felt. uk our view of such a period, we must separate what is merely~ patriotic from what is altogether pecuniary; and must not expect that to flatter our vanity is certainly to add to our wealth. It is one thing to be independent, and another to be affluent. If it be wise to adopt the policy of Lycurgus, let it so be understood, and we may prepare before hand to be proud~ republican, and poor. We cannot engraft on it the opposlt~ system of Pericles, and be at the same time refined, luxurious; and rich. The effect of this policy on the wealth of the na~ tion is a subject of anxious consideration; its influence on character is a different and no less important inquiry. Let us attend a moment to each. Labour is the great and only source of national wealth~ That labour which is employed in drawing from the earth or the sea new articles of property, in refining or elaborating what is coarse into that which is fine, ot. in exchanging the products of one soil. or the fabrics of one set of artizans, for the products or fabrics of another, is in each case a different ..N~w Series, .No. 5. 10 The proposed new Taijff [Jan. mode respectively of incrasing the wealth of a country. If one man raise sheep that produce a quasatity of wool, if ait. other convert it into coarse cloth, if a third carry it to a dis- tant country and exchange it for furs, and take the furs else- where, and barter them for the same quantity of fine cioth, it is easy to see that the labour of each has been usefully employ- ed, and the national wealth increased by each of them. Nor is it of any consequence in which step of the proceeding the most value is added. The agriculturist in the supposed case has originated property, worth, for example, one hundred dollars; the manufacturer has doubled its value, the merchait has exchanged it for an article which on his return is worth but five dollars more. The result of their joint effort has been, that the country has $205 worth of property, to whi~h each person concerned has in some degree contributed, audit is American labour, whether engaged at heuae~or abroad, 4hat has produced it. Again, if the farmer raise two parcels of wool, which are worth $40 each, and deliver one to the manufacturer, who con- verts it into cloth that is worth $15, and the other to the mer- chant, who, by transporting itti) & hettermaaket, exchanges ~it for an article worth $20, it is noteasy to perceive why his la- bour thus employed has not enriched the country to double the amount of the other, and why the increase of value is not *s much native American labour, as that which is performed by the manufacturer at home. American industry and cepital have been employed on a similar object by different means, and the result is apparent. While there are these two meth- ods of procuring the same thing, a competition is excited, and the consumers, who are the true public, the great body, whose interest is the real interest of the nation, and which embraces all the other classes, will be served on the most favourable terms. But it is discovered by the friends of the new system, that no competition can be sustained by the manufacturers within the United States, with regard te certain useful articles, against the manufacturers from abroad. In other words, that the same article can be obtained by the merchant and sold to the consumer, cheaper than it can be obtained and sold by the manufacturer in the country. That the present imposts, with which the article in the hand of the merchant is burthened, and from which the same article in the hand of the home 1821.] The prGposed new Tarzff. 15 manufacturer is exempted, do not sufficiently embarrass the traffic to give the latter a monopoly of the market; so that measures must be devised to support him. Now it is very clear that all those classes of manufacturers who can sustain themselves by the present imposts, and who find their trade fiourishitig under present regulations, are not interested to effect a change; and it is exceedingly manifest that the public would derive no benefit by granting to them facilities, which would only enable them to increase their profit by raising their price. It is accordingly an error. to use the terms of this controversy,withthat generality in which they have but too often been applied. It. is not to encourage manu- factures ; but some kinds of manufactures. It is to give artificial aid to some branches at the expense of the rest; and in fact to protect the interests of cotton and woollen manufactures, at the cost not only of the agricultural and commercial classes of the community, but of all those who are engaged in other manufac- turing concerns. Moreover, when this contemplated pro~ tection is ohtained, one of two cases must occur. Either for- eign importation of these articles will cease, or th..goods~ will come so high charged that the American manufacturer will secure a preference in the market. In such event the capital and enterprise engaged in importation will he thrown out of employment, and the consumer be taxed for the encourage- ment of manufactures, in a sum equal to the whole amount of the difference of price caused by a free or a restricted trade; by which difference the manuracturer thrives. But a partial market will not suit the friends of the system. ~We must command our consumption; that is, our whole consumption. Foreign goods must he excluded from the mar- ket, and the trade monopolized by the home manufacturer. Capital must be driven into a new channel, and the labour, which is open to our enterprising citizens, directed to differ- ent pursuits. But, when all this is accomplished, the revenue is curtailed and three millions are lost to the public chest. The same money will Ahen buy no more cloth than it does now, because you have excluded what is cheap, that what is dear may find a sale. Hitherto, of every four dollars that the consumer paid for his cloth, one dollar went to the treasury. He nw gets the article at a higher price, and yet th. call of the government remains to be satisfied. Will those who cause the deficiency create the supply? No. The tax is on The praposed new TartIJ [Jan. consumption, and he who wears the cloth, not he who makes it, mu~t pay the excise. Besides, the burthen is riot exclusive, although the advantage is. It is laid on the Consumption of other articles, which will still he imported. Sugar, salt, tea, and coffee, advance in price by the revenue provision of the bill, and the three millions, which are lost in a zeal to ripen by forced heat the yet green nianufactures of the country, are to be replaced, by an increase of price on every article of con- sumption. You have consented to pay a new tax on whatever you wear; you arc rewarded by an additional hirice on what.. ever you eat. You have commanded your consumption, but it is the consumption of the purse. The tea, coffee, pe;~per, sugar, salt. spices, & c. before enumnierated, are by an increased impost, causing of course an increased l)rice in the market, required to refund some part of the treasury loss; and this amount is an additional tax, because it is not relieved by a diminution on aiiy other article. Nor is it the only one which is brought on the consumer. He has to bear the increased price which is thereby artificially created, for so much of th~ same article as is made within the country, and pays two or three dollars for every one which the treasury receives. This is best proved by example. Suppose a defect of three millions is to be supplied in part by an additional duty on pepper. The merchant pays it at the custom house and is refunded by the additional price of the article in the market. As we raise no pepper, the addi.. tional price is the additional tax; because all that is con- sumed has been subject to the duty. But suppose it is in part also to be supplied by additional duties on salt and brown sugar, of which articles we make large quantities. but not enough for consumption. The p~~we of all salt and sugar is raised in the market, arid if the consumption be supplied equally by the importer arid the manufacturer, each is interested equally in the market jirice; the former however receives the additional price on the amount he sells, and pays it over to the govern- ment; the latter retains it for his own benefit. But the con- sumer, whether he purchases of the one or the other, pays the price to which the new impost has raised it~. Thus to pro- vide one. dollar for the treasury, two dollars are taken from the l)eople. And as is the proportion which the home manu- facture hears to the quantity imported, will be the loss to the people on the amount paid to the treasury. 1821.3 The proposed new Tariff. 77 The projected measures were so contrived as, on the same im- portations as in iSiS, to supply ~5,8OO,OOQ of the amount which, by its pro liibitory arid pr.~tecu ng duties. the govern merit v. ould lose. But that was a year of extraordiriaiy importation, much aboye the average of common years, arid the imposts produced ~-22,OoO,OOO. There would not remain the common average of importations, because increase of price lessens con- sumption. But the greater the importation, t~e greater is the evil we are considering. The treasury is supplied by an ex- orbitant tax on the sorts of articles, which are both manu- factured in the country and imported from abroad, and the consumers wotdd pay ten millions, bef~re the treasury would realize five. Thus one false step ren4ers another unavoidable, alike in l)olitics and morals. The hypothesis, that should the new tariff be established, the same amount of iml)ortation would continue as before, is whol- ly fallacious. As the price increases, purchasers diminish; and as purchasers dimnini~h, importation gro~~s less. The proportion of difference cannot he ascertained with certainty. But as a great portion of the inhabitants on the seaboard would be essentially injured in their ability to purchase, a more than usual diminution would be experieneed. Already a great decrease in the quantity of imported goods is found to exist. The demand ceases as the ability to pay ceases; and when the importer ascertains that his goods will not sell, he has generally good sense enough to lessen his orders. There is no need of interference on the part of government to regu- late this. It will as assuredly regulate itself, as water will find its own level. The laws of nature ore not more uniform and irresistible, than those which self-interest imposes upon commerce; and the knowledge which sharp-sighted calcula- tions of profit or loss give to the importer is the best, amid in fact the only security against an inadequate supply on the one hand, or an injurious redundancy on the other. Already it is ascertained that the imposts, which were es- timated for this year at 18,000,000, will be less than I 5,000.000. What would they have been on the system of the proposed tariff? ~lhe deficiency could not have been less than six millions and probably eight millions of dollars. How is this to be raised? The advocates of the new system are not back- ward in declaring it. They admit the necessity of an excise, though they differ as to the manner, in which this great sum 78 The pro jiosed new Tartif. (Jan. is to be drawn from the people. Articles of luxury must take the foreground of the list5 and an excise be laid en furnitures plate, loaf sugar, carriages, watches, jewelry, & c. But the fahricators of these articles are domestic manufacturers, and have acquired arid maintained almost the possession of the home market. They give employment to domestic industry. They enable us to command our own consumption of the various articles, which a life many degree above the savage state requires. The consumers are to pay, it is said; but the consumption stops. The price increases and the demand crows less. The interest then of these classes of manufac- turers is precisely opposite. If the present duties have given them a monopoly, or even preference of the home mar.~ ket, the excise, or the tariff which makes an excise necessary, is in direct hostility to their interests. And the policy of en- couraging, not m anufhctnres at the expense of commerce, but some branches of domestic industry at the expense of others, may well be doubted. Again, the excise, it would seem, should also be laid on distillers of spirit from grain or other articles of domestic produce; for as the duty of ten cents a gallon on molasses would give Them a chance for the posses. sion ot~ the home market, and some share of exportation9 this tax would riot fall unreasonably. But no. On this jealous interest no tax must be laid ; and a proposition for this pur- pose at the last session of Congress was refused even the compliment of a consideration! The little revenue howevei~ that would be derived from these sources, could not supply the requisitions of the. treasury, and the cotton and woollen man- ufactories themselves must pay their part of the contribution. Not the whole, as might be equitable, of a deficiency created for their benefit, but a proportion in the ratio of this capital. This they would cheerfully do, if the home market is secured to them ; but see the effect on the public. The consumer at present abstains from buying domestic goods, because for- eign goods are cheaper; and yet, when he pays this inferior price, one fourth of the amount is received into the national treasury. But foreign goods being excluded, lie is compelled to buy the domestic article, which even at the present higher Twice pays no part of the tax, and which is hereafter to come higher charged by the amount of so much excise and expense of collection as will answer the purposes of government. Nor is this the end of the gt~ievanee. A land tax will sooner or iate~ fol1o~v in the rear, and complete the array of fiscal exactions. 18~O.] 21w proposed ~aew Tar~jJ~ It is in vain to shut our eyes on this consequence, or at- tempt to divert it by contrivances, which at best aie but tem- porary, and will augment the future evil rather than control it. The government must be administered, and the expense for a series of years will never average less than the present. To increase in expenditure is the natuiaI progress of affairs. Expence like revolutions never goes backward. The land is the grand fulcrum for the lever, and the financier must use it to move the mighty mass which his operations require. It will be the most fertile contributor to taxation. The circle of evil will then be complete. The resources, which should be reserved for days of darkness and danger will be called forth an.d exhausted in the very quiet of peace. By our own act we shall then have done, ~ hat it is to be hoped no enemy will again be able to effect, we shall have shut our ports against a productive commerce, closed the gates of the treasu- ry through which its stream of wealth was constantly flowing, and supplied its place by those inconvenient and artificial aide, which are the usual concomitants of war, danger, and ruin. We say nothing of the inconvenience and trouble and ex~~ pense of an excise and a land tax; the domiciliary visit, th~ inquisitive agent of the government, who acts as a spy on ev.. cry bodys private affairs, the exposure of a mans hooks and business, and the litigations and perplexity which these ~rgau.. ized troops of the treasury bring with them. When the time require them, our fellow-citizeiswill submit to the evil, a~ they would to pestilence or famine ; but they are establish- meats wholly hostile to republican habits and totally incon- sistent with republican. feelings. The fate of the revenne, and the cry that the treasury is in danger is said to have been a mere scarecrow; and that this would not in the least deter the advocates of this measure from prosecuting their schemes with confidence and zeal. That such consequences would result are apparent. How they would be remedied is not so plain. If a new activity could be given to the people, they could bear ~ burthen, which some~ body must bear, to keep the government alive. But we re- ally do not comprehend how the ~fact of compelling one class of citizens to buy goods dear, which they now buy cheap, can facilitate the payment of taxes, or how destroying the reve- nue, which is raised by importation, and thereby in effect giv~ tag to certain manufacturers, as a direct bounty, the whole 80 The proposed new Ta~ffi tJan. amount of so much revenue as the excluded goods would pro- duce, can enable any body but themselves to meet the equiva- lent demand, which is made on the people. Capital employed in manufactures will not occupy so many people as the~ same amount in agriculture or commerce; and as machinery is improved, the number of hands in proportion to capital will still be less. Before the invention of Mr. Whittemores card machine, ~which comes as near to fingers and hands and human intelligence, as any combination of wood and iron ever did or can do, the sticking of tfie cards was done by children and infirm people, and gave employment to a great many persons. The machine receives the leather and the wire, and turns out a perfect card; and the employment of the poor is at an end. Formerly one person had a full days work to labour at a loom, now a girl attends to two, and each turns out double the former quantity of cloth. The rapidity and extent of these improvements are astonishirig. No de. partment of manufacture but has some patent machine to su- percede labour. However useful and important these ma- chines may be, and however wonderful the powers of the hu- man mind which they display, this at least must be allowed to be an effect, that they diminish the number of hands to be em~. ployed, and cause the same quantity of capital to feed fewer people. Manufacturing establishments furnished with im- proved machinery, require capital indeed, but not men. They are themselves mighty labour-saving machines, that perform more work than the money which they cost will command from human beings. But this is not the want which besets us. We require not so much to save the necessity of labour, as to find the means of useful employment. We are rather seeking to set every man in the community in busy occupa- tion, than contriving ways and means to supercede his employ- inent. To take a well-known example, the factory at Wal- tham has a capital of above half a million, and employs two hundred and sixty persons. Invested in shipping, it would employ by the foregoing calculations at least six hundred persons, and in the general concerns of commerce, not less than that number. When the machinery which now moes two looms shall be made so perfect as to move four, one person ~vill be deprived of employment. As the wbei~l turns more spindles, and the spindle turns oil the thread with more cer- tainty and correctness, the amount of human force now em- 1821.] The proposed new Tartff~ 81 ployed will not be wanted. The progress of these improved nients is regular and rapid. Where the limit will be, no one can tell, but their tendency isto supersede labour by capital, to make money do the office of men ; to force the machine to take the place of the labourer, and to cause great wealth and little human exertion tn perform the same work that (,tller wise would require multitudes to accomplish. We would not be misunderstood. These machines and this ingenuity are in(lispensahle to the business, and of immeuse utility to the public. But when it is said that the making of cloth is to give employment to labourers, let it be ren)embered that the object of this miracle of contri~ance is to do without labourers, or with as little of iheir aid as possible; and that every improve- ment in machinery advances nearer to this end. They have already superseded many household manufactures for any other purpose thani family consumption; and greatly as the quantity of business is increased within the last ten years, it is doubtful whether the artizan has not been so t~ir crowded out of employment by the machine, that no more hands are now employed than at that time. An inciease of (luty on imported goods is said to be neces- sary to preserve the investment in machinery and buildings already erected, and to support establishments that would otherwise be ruine(l. This we deny. That many are in~ jured. an(l that some have failed is tine, but the misfortune orI~lnate(l r~ither with themselves than the government Ma~ ny have been badly managed. It was once considered that a building and a water ~)rivilege were the guaranties of suc- cess ; and if a bag of cotton was thrown down at the door, it would almost ~ its own accord become cloth. Agents were entrusted with a superintendence, without intelligence or Ildelity. The machinery was badly constructed, or has been superseded by new improvements. An insufficient cal)ital limlte(l the operations; and buying on credit and selling on credit, were equally unfortunate. To this may be added the common misfortunes of the times, which depressing all busi- ness and involving all interests, necessarily took these in their turn. In contradiction however to the assertion we are considering, it Is known that well-managed institutions of sufficient capvta!, flourish under the present encouragement, and make very profitable returns. If however embarrassments exist, shall they be removed at JVew Series, .iVo. L. 11 The pr~pCise~ new Tarzff. [San. the expense of the commercial cal)ital of the country? Be. cause our villages here and there present a decayed mann- factory, shall our cities be ipade to exhibit a similar spec- tacle in ruined wharfs, decaying warehouses, and rotting ships? Shall the sea-shore be deserted that the ignorance or imbecility of speculation may be repaired ? If the i alue or th~ cost of one is a subject of reg1~et, what feelings should be ex- cited by the more valuable and splendid establishments, with which the other has enriched and decorated the republic? Be- sides this, the kindness of the tariff would be more rni~ous to the manufacturers, than any neglect of which they have had to complain. It is intended to be a permanent system, and it would draw the commercial caj)ital into fatal competition with theni. The business would be overdone and in this collision all would be sufferers. But should a change again take place, should the measure, which just rubs its way through the Congress of the United States, be viewed with hostility by the defeated party, and circumstances, ever changing, put the power in their hands; should that, which a small plurality had adopted, be repealed, though by as small a majority the other way, should commerce and agriculture regather their depressed strength and pull down the irregular fabric which was reared on their ruins, where then would be the in- terests of the manufacturers ? Or where, ~ve might say, the happiness of the country, torn by rival parties and sacrificing its wealth and prosperity in the conflicts of contending fac- tions? The prosperity of a people iii a great measure rests on the uniformity of the system of government which bears on their business and property. If a man in his calculat~ns for a voyage, is obliged to make insurance against the caprice of his government, he must abandon the enterprize, or incur an expe~mse that may absorb its profits. It is so ~ it!, manu- factures. rrhe immense expense of an establishment is not to be increased when the profit of the concern depends, not on the wants of the people, amid the natural combination of cir- cnmstances, but on the varying policy of the nation and the permanency of public opinion. It is therefore better and safer that objects be attained in a natural and slow mariner, which ensureq them constant regard, than to be forced prema- turely on the nation with a violence that overturns all inter- ests in their way, and generates a hostility that retires only Js~21.] The prtposed new Ta,jj7 for the purpose of making a more vigorous attack when op- portunity shall offer. The agricultural interest is deeply concerned in these pro- jected innovations, and we think with no pi ospect of benefit i~om the change. The farmer cannot supply more people than he now does; for at present he supplies all the people of the country, and he always will do so whether they be more or less. iBut the advantage of the foreign market will be shut out from him ; f~r exportation will depend on importation, and if little is wanted from abroad, or can be admitted if brought here, little will be sent away. It is the foreign sup- ply that makes agriculture flourish, and gives quick market and high prices to the raiser of produce ; and the moment the foreign market is supplied or closed, priceM fall, or culti- vation is diminished, or both consequences follow according to the urgency of the cause In a coutitry rich enough to be the granary of the world, the feeding of an indigenous popu- lation cannot create a demand, that will raise the price of produce much above the price of labour. This is an impor- tant consideration, and should be caiefully borne in mind. The present state of the market proves it. The home mar- ket is regulated by the demand; and the demand is in pro- portion to the consumption at home and the quantity cx- port~d. Now the home consumption is iiearly as great as ever. The population must be fed and clothed, and their food at least is supplied by the farryter. It is the curtailment of for- eign trade that produces the deficiency. It is on account of the checks upon the accustomed commerce of the country that so much is not sent abroad as heretofore. The redundancy of production remains, and the price falls. Let the surplus of our fruitful soil be required f& r the artizans of Europe, for the supply of those swarms who must eat and work, although they work nearly for nothing, and a brisk demand and high prices is the immediate effect. The facilities of inland corn- xnunication open all our country to the ocean, and produce finds its way to every place of demand. If it be true that in any part of the country domestic 1)rodtlce is at low price9 and articles of clothing and foreign goods of all kinds are high, this state of things is in itself enough to afford liberal protec- tion to domestic manufactures; and no aid of legislation is wanted to secure their advantage. The causes which oh- ~struct their growth are beyond the reach of acts of Congress. 84 The proposed new Tariff [Jan. They are retarded by want of capital and want of hands. VJ hose are the materials out of which they must flourish. Manufactures grow out of abundant capit~d and dense popu- lation. Both are wanted for their success; and they ~ ill not succeed naturally where both are not readily supplied. No encouragement in tl~e power of die govern ILent can give theni the means of existence, when nature has denied the aliment by which they live. These are some of the suggestions which present them- selves iii a consideration of the advantage of any extraordina- ry encouragement to internal manufactures, at the expense, or as it may turn out, the sacrifice of other great national in- terests. But the argument has ~oared above the smoke of bu- siness into a higher region. The market for tobacco and pitch and the manufacturing of wool have become matter of sentiment, and given occasion alternately to rouse our pride and our patriotism. We niust be independent )f foreign na- tions, it is said, and we cannot be so if we import their man- ufactures. This argument is specioos, but not soond. Some articles of necessity must be had at home, an(l as necessity is the mother, and the prolific mother of invention, there can be ~() great apprehension of a deficiency. But it is with nations as individuals; fair exchange, open trafie, purchase and trade infer no dependence. Who feels his personal independence lessened because he cannot minister to all the wants of daily life; because his tradesmen and artizans around him prepare the materials which he requires ? An individual might as well attempt to fix his independence by assuming the charac- ter of a jack of all trades, as a nation in modern times and in our state of society, expect to exist without the aid of its neighbours. God in his providence has distiibuted the mate- rials of his bounty, and it is one of the la~vs of his government that we should all live, nations as ~vell as individuals, by the exchange of productions and the reciprocity of good offices. There can be ii) this arrangement neither (legradi ug humility nor diminished importance. WIie suggestion therefore of the advocates for the proposed measures, is rather calculated to rouse our feelings, than aid our judgment. As an address to our l)atIi~tism it may be met by others of more value, ~ve think, because better fl)und- ed ; as an argument to common sense, it is ~vell ans~vered 1y the memorial before us, in the following remarks: 1821.] tWe proposed ne~v Tar?ff~ 8.5 In a certain sense we may be said to depend on foreign nations for whatever we receive from them. But they equally depend on us for the equivalent which we pay them for it, and this depen- dence is voluntary and mutual. Nor is it any degradation from national dignity. A sovereign, who receives tribute from a for- eign country, depends on it for that tribute; yet he is not there- fore its servant, but its master. If one country produces only labour, and exports only manufactures, and another, in return for these, provides it with the raw materials composing them, the for- iner may with most propriety be called dependent ; for since ev- ery country has necessarily the capacity to labour in proportion to its population, that whkh produces the raw material may manu- facture it whenever it chooses to do so; but the ability of the other to labour would be worthless, if it could not procure the material to which that labour may be applied. The exchange of raw cot- ton then for manufactures makes Europe dependent on America, rather than America on Europe. Ask the planter of the South, which of the two is dependant, himself or the Manchester spin- ner. To those who are inclined to consider the questions be- fore us as in any degree separable from pecuniary balances, there are other topics of interest and excitement ~vorthy of all their regard. What effect will this encouragtment produce on the habits of our people? We look on the increase of marl II- facturing establishments as decidedly hostile to republican principles, and to the moral character of the comm unity. Their natural tendency is to divide the community into two great classes, the very rich and the very pool, and thereby to de- stroy that equality on ~vhich our institutions are universally founded. Capital and machinery perform the work arid re- ceive their share of the profit, an immense profit too, under the circumstances which are projected. The people who direct their operations are mere labourers, day labourers, entitled to and receiving common journeymans wages. As long as a demand exists for the article manufactured, and health etina- bles the workman to continue at his labour, the amount of dai- ly compensation keeps himself and his family from indigence. lint it does no more ; and any interruption of his avocation brings him in debt, dependence, and misery. The man who travels from his home and his friends, arid aids in the forma- tion of a new settlement in the wilderness, has a hard lot; but it is vastly preferable to the easiest task of the journeyman manufacturer. The former leaves We associations of his in~ 86 7ke prcposel new Tarj~ [Jan. infancy, travels to some new spot in the forest, girdles his trees, builds a log house, works hard (or a year or to, and fares rather coarsely. But the tide of population follows him. He soon has a little family of young and hardy imita- tators of his eriterprize. Lie pays for his ian(l hy their labour, and ha, itig lived respectably, (lies, and is buried on his own farm, aci leaves a freehold inheritance for division among his dijldren. The other goes to a manufactory ; receives his otie dollar or his two dollars per day ; hires a ten-foot buildig in the vicinity of his work~shop, and takii~g into ac- count the (lays he can and those in which he cannot work, makes shift to keel) along a miserable existence; acquit~ habits that are riot easily shaken off; has nothing left for his old age. if he lives to attain it ; becomes a vagrant, support- ed by charity; and is finally buried at the expense of the parish. This is not indeed the universal, but it is too frequently the comparative progress an(l result of the t~vo occupations, and it is a state of things with regard to the latter very unfavour- able to that eleation of character, which is to secure the per manenuy of our republican institutions. Constant labour aud little nicans of education take from the tenants of great manu- factories the ability to discharge the duties of citizens of a re- public, and beget a dependence on the heads oftlie establishment, which lessens their value as citizens of the Commonwealth. The eml)loyment is enervating, and the place where it is car~ ned on is not congenial to activity or health. With the want of instruction comes of course the want of moral suscep- tibility, and the history of manufacturing districts in those countries where they have been most successfully and exten- sively carried on, has presented a loathsome picture of a dis- eased, depraved, ignorant, and factious population. It is in the or(hnary course of affairs that great manufac- turing establishments will arise and will flourish, but we think it unwise to accelerate their arrival. While there is an ocean to be traversed, or land to be cultivated, and while the liardi- hood and the vigour and the love of freedom, which these oc- cupations gi e. ai~e within the reach of our citizens, we are )lot desirons of diverting any large classes of our population to man ufacluring concerns. We are not anxious to see the American Hercules at the (listaff. The loom and the spindle are nat the armour of national defence, and great manufacto I~21.j The proposed ne-tb ThrijJ 87 ries are not the best schools to learn the lessens which must preserve our republican institutions. They will grow as the country grows. They are the natural result of an excessive population, and when they come naturally they can be endur- ed, because other departments increase with them, and then should danger require it, our armies and our navy, recruited from the adventurous sons of the ocean, or the substantial cut- tivators of the soil, wil be able to protect the tenants of these institutions, always too feeble to protect themselves. The true domestic industry which it is the policy of this country to en- courage; that which ~iIl subserve the republican institrrtions by preserving the intelligence and purity of manners of our countrymen, is the industry of private families. This b~anch of domestic manufacture has strong claims to encouragement. It produces a spirit of industry among the people, and pre- vents the miegling of meit, women and children in common masses in the workship, to ~he corruption of manners, amid the enfeebling of ~he moral principle. It produces no depen4ence on the great and wealthy men, whose fortunes accumulate with the rapidity of the spindles in a great manufactory. It is not the sole employment, and therefore not relied on as the means of subsistence, but it comes usefully in aid of other avocations, and gives a spirit of economy and frugality, which are the best virtues of our country. Let these be encouraged as much as can be done with con- venien(e. While they maintain their own good respectabili- ty and give employment to a vast umumber of industrious and worthy people, they interfere ~ith no other employment, arl(l produce no rival interests that thrive only on the ruin of their neighbours. Before closing these remarks, we cannot but congratulate our readers that one part of the anti-commercial system has been expressly disclaimed iii the present session of Congress, by the om~an of the committee, who reported the bills last winter. The manner in which this has been tione and the e~ traordinary languat~e of rebuke, ~v ith which the lwtitionS against the repeal of the tlrawback are dismissed by the coin mhtee, unpatliainen~ary as they seem to us, need not now be made the snbject of remark. That the fact that one of the bills, reported last winter b~ the comnu,iltee of manufactures, not only did not repeal, but provided fr the continuance of draw- back, fmmrni~hes a ~rouud for dismissing with cur peti The proposed new Tart#~ CJar~. tions against such repeal, we regard as a most irreg.. ular and unprecedented suggestion; grounded on an over- weaning importance attached by the committee to~ their own functions. The history of the measures is briefly this. It is well known that a resolution to abolish drawback was brought forward in Dec. 18 9, by a western member, with the concurrence, as was generally understood, of the zealous partizans of the manufacturing i;~terest. This resolution was laid on the table, and was received with a burst of disappro- bation by the commercial part of the community. The Missouri question came on, and all other business was laid asinle. That question was decided, the committee of manu- factures reported their bills, one of them contained sections providing for drawback, arid these bills were lost. Now it might as well be argued that the loss ~f these bills ought to prevent the remonstrances of the. merchant against their principles, as that the silent death of the resolution against drawbacks should prevent remonstrances against that. Of what consequence is it to the merchant, by what individu- al member of a great and active interest, the measures, which be regards as fatal, are proposed? Of what avail is it to.him that a report of a committee, vested with no deciding power, which report may he moulded to any form in the hands of the house, that this report provides for drawback; while a mo- tionto abolish it, proceeding from the same general quarter, is still on the table of the house? Or if it be granted that the renunciation, Ofl the part of the committee, of any design against the drawback, furnish encouragement to hope for its security, does this amount to 50 strong an assurance, as to make it not only superfluous but indecent to petition against the principle of a resolution, brought forward in pursuance of the same general policy, and capable at anymoment of being called up and enacted? 1821.] Swedenborgianism. 89 ART. V.The Heavenly Doctrine of the .New Jerusalem as revealed from Heaven. From the Latin of Emanuel Swe- denborg. 2d American editiQil. Hilliard & Metcalf, 1820, Pp. 99. EMANUEL SWEDENBORO. whose name and writings have lately attracted more attention, in this vicinity, than hereto- fore, was born at Upsal, in Sweden, on the 29th of January, 1688. No memorabilia have yet transpired respecting his infancy; but he was early distinguished for his knowledge in mathematics, astronomy, and physical science; and for nu- merous writings on those subjects. lie was always, as far as we can learn, respected and beloved for the excellence of his character; and previous to his spiritual visions, he had become known, in other countries beside his own, by his travels through a great part of Europe. It was about tbe year 1740, that he is said to have relin- quished temporal for spiritual concerns; and in 1745 he received the first commands and favours from heaven, with which he afterwards maintained an every-day familiarity. The follo~ving is the account which he gives of his first call from Deity. It is in a letter to Mr. Robsam, in the preface to the treatise of Heaven and Hell. I dined very late at my lodgings at London, and ate with great appetite, till, at the close of my repast, I perceived a kind of mist about my eyes, and the floor of my chamber was covered with hideous reptiles. They soon disappeared, the darkness was dissipated, and I saw clearly in the midst of a brilliant light, a man seated n the corner of the chamber, who said to me in a terrible voice: eat not so much. At those words my sight became obscured; afterwards it became clear by degrees, and I found myself alone. The night fo light, appeared to me Ilowing, the same man, radiant with and said, I am God, the Lord, creator and redeemer; I have chosen you to unfold to men the internal and spiritual sense of the sac-ed writings, and will dictate to yoa what you are to write. At that time I was not terrified; and the light, although very brilliant, made no unpleasant impression upon my eyes. The Lord was clothed in purple, and the vision lasted a quarter of an hour. Thitt same night the eyes of my internal maim were opene(l, and fitted to see things in heaven, in the world ot spirits, and in hell, in which places I found many persons of my acquaintance, some of them long since, and others lately deceased. .tVew Series, .Ao. 5.

1821.] Swedenborgianism. 89 ART. V.The Heavenly Doctrine of the .New Jerusalem as revealed from Heaven. From the Latin of Emanuel Swe- denborg. 2d American editiQil. Hilliard & Metcalf, 1820, Pp. 99. EMANUEL SWEDENBORO. whose name and writings have lately attracted more attention, in this vicinity, than hereto- fore, was born at Upsal, in Sweden, on the 29th of January, 1688. No memorabilia have yet transpired respecting his infancy; but he was early distinguished for his knowledge in mathematics, astronomy, and physical science; and for nu- merous writings on those subjects. lie was always, as far as we can learn, respected and beloved for the excellence of his character; and previous to his spiritual visions, he had become known, in other countries beside his own, by his travels through a great part of Europe. It was about tbe year 1740, that he is said to have relin- quished temporal for spiritual concerns; and in 1745 he received the first commands and favours from heaven, with which he afterwards maintained an every-day familiarity. The follo~ving is the account which he gives of his first call from Deity. It is in a letter to Mr. Robsam, in the preface to the treatise of Heaven and Hell. I dined very late at my lodgings at London, and ate with great appetite, till, at the close of my repast, I perceived a kind of mist about my eyes, and the floor of my chamber was covered with hideous reptiles. They soon disappeared, the darkness was dissipated, and I saw clearly in the midst of a brilliant light, a man seated n the corner of the chamber, who said to me in a terrible voice: eat not so much. At those words my sight became obscured; afterwards it became clear by degrees, and I found myself alone. The night fo light, appeared to me Ilowing, the same man, radiant with and said, I am God, the Lord, creator and redeemer; I have chosen you to unfold to men the internal and spiritual sense of the sac-ed writings, and will dictate to yoa what you are to write. At that time I was not terrified; and the light, although very brilliant, made no unpleasant impression upon my eyes. The Lord was clothed in purple, and the vision lasted a quarter of an hour. Thitt same night the eyes of my internal maim were opene(l, and fitted to see things in heaven, in the world ot spirits, and in hell, in which places I found many persons of my acquaintance, some of them long since, and others lately deceased. .tVew Series, .Ao. 5. Sweden borgianism. It is not peculiar to any individual to mistake for super. natural, that which may be accounted for according to known relations of cause and effect. With the vulgar, nothing is more common; and the love of the marvellous among them is such, as to encourage the most strange and crude relations of their experiences, which wiser men sometimes believe, or turn to account. Visions am~ng the Romish saints were frequently pretended to be experienced; and no doubt men of no less philosophical minds than Swedenborgs have had their share of visions, which if narrated would be equally as credi- ble as those of our author. In the case before us, it would seem that Swedenborg gave too ready admission to impres- sions, which to those who are unprepared for the recital of theiri, must appear exceedingly ludicrous ; ludicrous not in themselves so much, as for the gravity with which they are related. To us they appear to be the eff& ~ct, though. somewhat extraordinary, of excessive indulgence of appetite, after an unusual interval of fasting, and while, perhaps, neither the body nor the mind were sufficiently composed. Certain nervous symptoms, not unlike those described by Swedenhorg, sometimes occur in cases of dyspepsia, or sud.. den indigestion. Many such are enumerated by medical writers; namely, giddiness, noise in the ears, occasional dimness of sight, a sense of objects floating before the eyes, restlessness, unrefreshing sleep during the night, temporary absence of mind, impaired memory, & c. To any rational man, we need assign no other cause for the first symptoms of alienation of mind, in the author, whose works we have partially examined; it being the part of true philosophy not to seek beyond a sufficient and well ascer- tained cause, for any physical or intellectual phenomenon. How far th& intervention of medical skill might have weaned him from the society of immortals in other regions, we can- not now determine; but it is evident, as it may well be sup- posed, that finding the flesh no obstacle to soaring into the ce- lestial spheres, and descending to the infernal abodes, he soon became so conversant with their inhabitants, that he has told as much, and probably as much truth about them, as the heathen poets did of their Elysium and their Tartarus. He is not the only one who has ~v,itten dialogues of the dead; but he is the first man in christendom, we believe, who so far imposed on himself and on others, as to create a belief, 18~1.] & wedenborgianism. 91 among so many, that he was a new prophet, the author of a new dispensation, and the founder of a new church. On what such claims are grounded, it seems proper now to in- quire, since we find disciples among us zealous enough to pub1i~h and inculcate the writings of tijeir supposed prophet. Miracles are thought to be of little value, arid are treated somewhat contemptuously, by the disciples of Swedenborg. His own opinions on this subject are sufficiently manifested in the following passage from his .Arcana C~Lestia. With respect to prodigies and signs, it is to be observed, that they were performed amongst such persons as were in external worship, and were not desirous of knowing any thing about in- ternal worship; for they who were in such worship, were to be compelled by external means; hence it was, that miracles were performed among the Israelitish and Jewish people, who were merely in external worship, and in none that was internal. It was also necessary for them to be in external worship, when they would not be in that which is internal, in order that they might represent holy things in externals, and thus that communication might be given with heaven, as by something of a church; for correspondences, representatives, and signmficatives conjoin the natural world to the spiritual. Hence now it was, that so many miracles were performed among that nation. But with those who are in internal worship, that is, in charity and faith, miracles are not performed, being to such persons hurtful; for miracles force or compel to believe, and whatsoever is of compulsion doth not remain, but is dissipated. The internal things of worship, which are faith and charity, ought to be implanted in freedom, for therm they are appropriated; and the things which are appropriated remain. But the things which are implanted by compulsion abide without the internal man in the external; for nothing enters into the internal man except by intellectual ideas, which are rea- sons, the ground which receives them there being the rational principle enlightened: hence it is that no miracles are performed at this day.* That they are also of a hurtful nature, may appear from the following consideration; they compel to believe, and fix in the external man an idea that a thing is so o~ so; if the inter- nal man afterwards, denies what the miracles have confirmed, then there commences an opposition and collision bet~veen the internal and external man, and at length, when the ideas pro- duced from miracles are di~sipated, the conjunction of falsehood and truth takes place, which is prophanation. Hence it is evi- dent how dangerous and hurtful miracles would be at this day in the church, wherein the internals of worship are disclosed. Voila, pourquoi votre fUle est muette.] 92 Swedenboigianism. [Jan. These things are also signified by the Lords words to Thomas because thou hast seen me, Thomas, thou hast believed; blessed are they who see not and believe ; consequently they also are blessed, who believe, not by miracles. But miracles are not hurtful to those, who are in external worship, without internal, for with such there cannot he any opposition between the internal and external man, thus no collision, and consequently no propha- nation. We have hero quoted from Hindmarsh, a most earnest and laborious disciple of Swedenborg; and though there is suffi- cient obscurity in the passage, it is probably a much more intelligible translation from the original, than we, the unini- tiated, could make. What the great prophet of the New Jerusalem church shadowed forth, the disciple whom we have just cited has pursued with zeal; and it is amusing, if it were not more painful, to witness such overweaning ardour and fanaticism of the genuine pupil of a visionary master, as we find in the following, among other passages in Hind- marshs letters to Priestley As former dispensations required the aid and assistance of miracles, in order to induce mankind to acknowledge them, this argues at least, that they did not carry with them that clear and rational eVi(lence of theii truth, which was of itself sufficient to gain credit among men: for wherever the truth of a thing cannot be established by any other means than by miracles, it plainly im- plies that it is involved in obscurity, doubt,and unceitainty. Such was the case with all former dispensations. which only shadowed forth and represented the last and most magnificent of all, the .New Jerusalem. 1 his last and greatest of dispensations requires no miracles, because the truths it displays are of themselves clear, rational, and satisfactory. It is too dignified to stoop down to the earth for any thing that resembles a miracle; for by so doing, its heaven born glory would be tarnished, and a cloud would overspread the sky, so as to itderrupt the beams of celestial light, pioceeding from him who is the sun of righteousness Such and similar to this is the reasoning of Swedenbor- gians concerning miracles. We do not say in reply, that miracles are necessary to a new dispensation of divine truth, because this is begging tho question at issue. But we can- not avoid saying, tiiat the reasons assigned by Swedenborg an(l his followers, why they would be not only useless, but nnsuitable, in evidence of the truth of the doctrines of the New Jerusalem church are, as far as they are intelligible, 1821.] Swedenborgianism. 93 exceedingly strange, if not irreverent. If by the jargon of externals and internals, be meant any thing more than the distinction between what merely regards the senses, and that which pertains exclusii ely to the understanding, it is too subtile and refined for our comprehension. According to out interpretation of Swedenborgs meaning, there ~~as, it is acknowledged, much that was external in the religion of the Je\ ish church, though this was far fro~n being the groat end of its religion. But the case is far otherwise in the Chris- tian church: what is properly external and merely signili- cative, is but a small part of the religion of christians. And it nee(led neither miracles nor a new (lispensation to sever the protestants from a church, much of whose corruption, as they believed, consisted in superinducing, on the simple reli. gion of Christ, a multitude of ceremonial observances, which tended to absorb the moral and spiritual in what ~ as merely sensible. It must be a strange conceit in any one who calls himself a christian, that for nearly eighteen centuries, all the followers of Christ had been kept in that state of degrada- tion, in which they could perceive nothing but what was comparatively gross and mean in their religion, and could not fail to overlook every thing that was most pure, and spiritual, and elevated. Nor can we find, after all the researches we have made, that the doctrines (if the Ne~v Jeru- salem develop a single point of morals, before unknown, or make any disputable questions in morality more clear. There is nothing, we admit in what Swedenborg professes to teach, that was worthy of miracles. Certain corruptions of Chris- tianity he has indeed exposed, hut less satisfactorily, by far, than many enlightened christians have done, who made no pretensions to insl)iration, where no inspiration was requisite. Whatever is peculiar (visions always excepted) is merely speculative, and to our dark understandings, often absurd. Of how much regard his visions are worthy, we mean presently to show. It is not our business to reply to any fanatical foll& wers of Swedenborg. But if it he a fair deduction from his writ- ings that a divine revelation is degraded by the miracles that accompany it; that all the beneficent acts of our Saviour, which transcended human power; that above all, his resur- rection from the dead, and his ascension to heaven, are so many blots and stains on the character of our holy religion, 94 Swedenborgianisrn~ [3au. we are willing to give them all the benefit of their argu- meuts, without attempting to answer them. Further, we cannot admit the truth of the assertion, even if it were iiot profane, that the intervention of miracles im- plies a want of clear and rational evidence of the doctrines which they are intended to maintain. We can easily con- ceive how difficult it is to excite the attention of mankind to a system of religion, which militates against errors long cherished, and especially to convince them of truths against which their pride arid ambition must he at once placed in powerful array. Now this is the case with christianity, which, whatever may be said about externals, we all belieio to be a spiritual religion demanding a spiritual worship. What could tend more to (Iraw the attention of mankind to the truths it imparted, and to the divine mission of its author, than such miracles as those to which we have alluded? Surely it is not becoming in us to say, that they were un~ worthy of a messenger from heaven, or that they have no bearing on what was ~iritual in his religion. But apart from miracles, and in relation to the comp~rathely clear and rattonal evidence of christianity and the ~New Jerusalem, we would ask the Swedenbdrgians to compare the effect of the preaching of Christ, and Peter, and Paul, with that of all the voluminous ~vritirig of their pretended prophet, arid give us the result. Though Swedenhorg and his followers pretend to tio mira- cles performed in attestation of his divine mission ; yet there b much in what belongs to their religion of a miraculous char- acter. Besides the visions related, pertaining to other worlds, ~nd other beings besides man, and other states of existence, the disciples of Swedeniborg have carefully transmitted several in4ances of his prescience, and news from the regions of the dead, which are very marvellous. We select the following accounts of his supernatural knowledge, from Hindmarshs letters to Priestley. We have seen the same in the writings of other Swedenborgians, without any variation of facts and circumstances. 1. Count llopken, a S~vedish nblernan, has confirmed the truth of the two following transactions. After the decease of the Count Dc Marteville~ certain persons came to demand a debt of his ~vi(lOvv, of a considerable sum of money, that they said was (lue to t~n b~ 1)01 (leceased her husband~ This she knew was not a I 821.3 Swedenborgianis~n. 95. just (lebt, because it had been paid during his life-time; yet could not tell where the acquittance or receipt was. In her trouble she applied to Mr. ~wedenborg; and understanding that he h4d the privilege of conversing with thedeceased, requested that (if pOS- sibk) he would ask her late husband where the acquittance was. On the next day Mr. Swedenborg informed her, that he had seen and spoken to her deceased husband, who told him where he had put the acquittance, and that she would find it in the particular place described. ft was accordingly found in the same place; and this account was universally known to be true both at court and at Stockholm. rfhe queen of Sweden herself, being after. wards on a visit at Berlin, confirmed the truth of tiiis relation to several academicians, whom she had invited to her table. 2. The second remarkable transaction is the following. The queen dowager of Adolphus F ederick, and sister to the late king of Prussia, soon after having heard the foregoing account, and sev- eral others concerning Mr. ~wedenborg, told the senator, Count Ilopken, that she wished to speak to him. The Count, in going to carry the queens orders, met Mr. Swedenborg, who was on his way to the palace, with a design to speak to that princess. After having conversed on various subjects, the queen informed him that she had lately written a letter to her brother, a prince, of Prussia, who had since (lied. The contents of her letter, she ob- served, were of so secret a nature, that no person in the world had an i~ knowledge of them, but t~iat brother ; and she wished Mr. Swedenborg to ask him, whether he had received her letter be- fore his death; to which he replied that he would give her an answer in a few days. At the time appointed, Mr. Swedenborg waited on the queen) and related to her the whole contents of the said letter, word for word, [well committed to memory] at which she was struck with the greate4 astonishment. He further informed her majesty that her brother had received her letter, and begun an ans- wer to it, and that in the escrutoire of the prince was an unfinish- ed letter, which he intended to have sent her before his decease. On this she sent to the king of Prussia, and the letter was found, as Mr. Swedenborg had (lilected, which the king sent to her This circumstance was also publicly known at Stockholm, and much talked of out of the kingdom. The Baron, in a letter to the Land- grave ~f Hesse Darmstadt, dated July iS, 1771, com~firms the truth of this relation, yet says, It is not to be accounted as any kind of miracle, but only as a memorable transaction, like those found in the work entitled True Ghristian Jiedgion, concerning Luther, Melancthon, Calvin, and others; which are only to be considered as evidences that, as to the spirit, I have been iritroduc- ed by the Lord into the spiritual wQrld, and that I converse both with angels and spirits. Swedenborgianism. [$au. Another remarkable occurrence is, that, when Swederiborg was told, at Gottenburg, that his house was consumed in a great flre at Stockholm, he, without a possibility of hearing by the post, affirmed that his house was safe, and described the extent of the fire; and that in both particulars his account was verified. Another is, that, when he embarked at London for Sweden, he predicted to Captain Dixon, in order to prevent any anxiety about his supply of provisions, the very hour when he would arrive at Stockholm, which prediction was exactly fulfilled. We should probably be as much laughed at for replying to these idle tales, as we have been diverted ourselves in reading them. There is still, we believe, among the vulgar, some remnant of belief in witchcraft and divination ; and in times past there have been, in other countries, men as enlightened as those at the court of Sweden equally as infatuated, or as ready to act a part, as those who countenanced the wonderful stories we have selected. We remember, when we were children, to have heai~d as extraordinary instances of supernatural knowl- edge, in an old woman in our vicinity, as any of these which are attributed to Swedeiiborg. She could tell which ticket would draw the highest prize in a lottery, and where stolen goods would be found, and many other things equally mar- vellous. rflwre are some other predictions of Swedenborg, about as important as that concerning Captain Dixons voyage, which are said to have been exactly accomplished. He is said also to have foretold the precise time of his death. None of these things however were recorded till after the events happened. But there is one prophecy of his, of more consequence than all the rest, because it has a direct bearing upon his character, as an inspired prophet, and on the propagation of his religion ; and because there are no~v millions of men in the world, who, if the prophecy be true, will live to witness its fulfilment. We are told that, a few days before his death, an intimate friend said to him, In the name of God, before whom you will short- ly appear, in the name of friendship, declare to me, if what you have written is the truth. Swedenborg replied: My doctrine is true, it has been revealed to me ; and in eighty years it ~vill be very widely ditlused. We have no very ac- curate data from which ~ve can form an estimate of the num- ber of Swcdenborgs followers ; and, it should seem, there is 11321.] nborgiattsin. .97 somethiig of caution in his prediction, concerning the fltfftiber. This, it may be foreseen, what~ ~r hopes may be e~ited am~wg the members of the New Jerusalem Church, in regard t~ the increase ot believers, will give them opportunity, in the end~ ~o make great limitations, in what now seems to imply a number indefinitely large, but intended to bear a comparison, far from contemptible, with the rest of the christian corn nut- nity. The great borden of evidence in favour of the di~ine coin- mission of Swedenboig, we are told by his disciples, is to he found in the doctrines of the New Jerusalem. It is therefore internal ; and it requires (if we rightly comprehend some of the full believers) something like a j)rior faith, to go sufficient- ly far into the revelations of the great prophet, to become ilhi- niinated and spiritualized. Now it it be the doctrines of the New Jerusalem, that claim for their immediate author a di- viun commission, it must be what is new, and not what was alread)r Well kiiown. Before tonching however upon any thing whleb is peculiai~ and novel in doctrine, we Would first remark, that what strikes a novice in regard t~ the supposed new prophet with most surprise is, that he knows and im- parts more, concerning what is beyond human ken, than the Son of God himself; to say nothing of the ancient patriarchs and prophets. This is so extraordinary, that it cannot be rendered credible, but by the excellence and the prtictical util- ity of the truths revealed. The truths too should he of such a kind, that they cannot be asctibed to a fervid imagination, without the intervention, of a power above. When 5i~ eden.. borg tells us every where in his works. This is what the Lord revealed to the oh such a snbjectt his is what the angels saidI assisted in the heavens at aconference held in the temple of wisdoni-.--I have been at one of the schoolsI have heard such and such things debatedI heard such things decreed I have seen in the spiritual world, Pythagoras, Socrates, Lu- ther, Calvin, Xenophon, Sixtus Quintus, Louis X1V, New- ton, Wolf, lions Sloane, & c., our first feeling is not so much that of incredulity, as it is of the ludicrous. rfliattllis learn~ ed Swede, if he had not lost his wits, should talk more fainil- iarly of Deity, and angels, and prophets, and philosophers in heaven, and of his intercourse with them, than of the occur- rences and people in the dwellings and streets of Stockholm, is .New Series, .M. 5. 13 Swedenborgianism. 98 [Jan. so wonderful, that no slight evidence can persuade us of its truth. To a large proportion of our readers, probably, we shall corn runnicate something new, by selecting some passages from Swedenborgs visions. For, if we mistake not, his followers are not, either in their writings or conversation, very apt to acquaint us with many of the minute particularities contained in them, concerning the spiritual and celestial world. In his vision concerning creatzon, lie heard a dialogue be- tween the Satans, U~Ofl God and nature; in which they main- tain that God is but a name, if, by that name, nature is not intended. We present our readers an abridgement of it. At their own desire those Satans are permitted to mount from the darkness of hell into the world of spirits, which holds the middle, place between heaven and hell. Two angels descended from heaven to sustain the dispute, and I was present there. Ye simple ones, says one of the infernal spirits, with your belief in God ! And then he goes on with his argument to identify God and nature, though the scriptures tell us, the devils believe there is one God, and tremble. The angels made a reply, which it nuist have puzzled the Satans exceedingly to understand, and we are not told what effect it produced. He next tells us of another Sa- tan who came from hell into the world of spirits with a prostitute, and gives a disgusting dialogue, in which it appears that these personages had no notion of lawful wedlock. After a conversa- tion, which proved that the Satan knew neither what he was, nor what he had been, and that he had forgotten he had lived and di- ed on earth, and that he had not heard any thing in the world of spir- its ; I trie(l, says Swedenborg, to recall it to him, to speak to him of God, of angels, of heaven ; he fled, laughing immoder- ately, and treating me like a fool. Then an angel approached me and said, Your meditations and discourses on creation have gained you great applause, and secured your reception into our society; I will now show you the figurative type of the creation and teach you how God created an- itnals and vegetables of every kind. The angel then conduc~ted his guest to an immense verdant plain, where he saw successively all kinds of birds and beasts, and fruit-trees and fruits, and shrubs and flowers, and trees of the forest, & c. & c. The vision then continues All these objects you have seen, says my guide, are so ma- ny correspondences of the affections of love of the angels about you; and he made me kno~v the affection to which every thing iB~1.] Swedenborgiauism. corresponded, assuring me that every thing which struck their eyes.houses, utensils, tables, food, garments, metals, precious stones, that every thing in fine was a correspondence to the angels, and enabled them to know the internal state of each other. By this type, he added, you may see the creation of the universe. God is love and wisdom; the affections of that love, the percep- tions of that wisdom are infinite; and all created objects upon earth are correspondences of those affections and perceptions. Correspondences, like those of our natural ~vorld, exist also in the spiritual world for angels, who receive the God of love and wis- dom; with this difference, that the correspondences of the spiritu- al world are created at the moment, according to the interior of the angels, and that in the natural ~vorld they were created at the beginning, so as to be renewed by generation and reproduction. In our world it is instantaneous, and in yours it is durable, by means of generation; because the lands and atmospheres of our world are spiritual, and the lands and atmospheres of yours are natural. Natural gold was created to conceal spiritual, like the skin to cover the body, bark the trees, & c. In the hells, objects are seen opposed, which are correspondences of the affections of evil, and of perceptions of falses, & c. & c. As we conversed about the hells, the noise and odour which proceeded thence began to annoy us, and the angel quitted me, after having enjoined it upon me to publish on earth, what 1 had seen and heard in the spiritual world. Our readers are here introduced to the doctrine of corres- ponderices, which hims so distinguishing a part of the theory of the New Jerusalem. But before we proceed farther on this subject, we cannot forbear selecting a few short specimens more of the visions and supernatural communications to be found in the writings of Swedenborg, which we think will go far to settle the weight of internal evidence in favour of the truth of his new doctrines. In his vision~ concerning heaven, among other things, he says; The new-comers~were con(lucted into different quarters of the celestial city, and were shown an auditory, a public library, books, paper, ink, quills, manuscripts, and scribes who copied them, mu- seums, colleges and literary exercises, officers, governors, artists and various works. Virgins brou0ht them presents of stuffs em- broidered and woven with their own hands. As they departed they sung to them, after an angelic mode, an ode which expressed the affections and thoughts which corresponded to the use of the presents they ma(le. 100 Fwcdenborgianisrn. iJan, Again. During my meditation I was transported in spb it into a celes. tial society~ placed at the left, towards the east, of which Pop. Sixtus quintas is the chief In our coi4versation, he told me that his society was composed of the most judicious and reasona- ble among the catholics, and that he had been placed at their head in the heavens, for having believed, six months before his death, that the pretence of the pope being the vicar of Jesus Christ was an invention of the pontifs, to gratify their lust of do. mination He told me, in fine, and enjoined ii on me to aiinotiiit~e it to men on earth, that those who maintained a faith contrary to that he had now declared, would become dolts in the world of spirits; that after some time they would be united to those like them, and would fall into the hel1s~ where they would become maniacs, living like beasts, while they would thin kthem. selves gods. I (lid not conceal from him that these things appear~ ed to me very hard to be published. Write them, he replied, I will subscribe them, because it is the truth. Immediately rejoin- ing his society, he subscribed a paper containing those assertions, and sent it as a bull to those of his former coninvunion on earth.~ Or~ce more: One day, says Swedenborg, in his vision relating to writing in heaven, while I meditated on celestial truth, a leaf of paper written in Hebrew characters. like those of the ancients, was sent to me from heaven; the lines appeared to me curved, and full of accents placed above the letters. The angels around me said, that by a single letter they grasped the whole sense ; that they discerned it especially in the curves of the lines, and the fiexion, of accents, of which they explained to me the different significa. tions, according as they were joined or separate. They told me that the letter H. added to the names of Abraham and Sarah, sig. ~ified infinite, and eternal. They explained to me by the letters alone the true sense of a verse in one of the psalms. They taught me further, that the writing of the third heaven was composed of letters (liflereutly inclined, each of which contained one sense; that the vowels served here only for the sound corresponding to the aftection, afl(l that, in this heaven, they could not pronounce the vowels i and e [the German i and e we suppo~e] but in their place y and eu They told inc that the vowels a, o and u were, on account of their full sound, used in the third heaven, and that there were no harsh consonants employed there; evety thing there is sweet, and hence it is that many Hebrew letters in use 18~1.] ~wedcu& or~ianism. lOt there are pointed iuternnlly, to indicate that they are to be pro- nounced with sweetness. The~e angels added, that harshness of letters and ot pronunciation might exist in the spiiitual heaven, whose inhabitants are in the truth, but not in the third heaven, whose inhabitants are in the good, or in love. Such, and a great de~d mwe, similar to these examples, ire the Visions of Emanuel Swedenborg. They are often very minute iii the dialogue, giving the names and the exact words ol the interlocutors, and very minute details of persons, and employments, and administration in the spiritual world. Some of the visions are ingenious and amusing fables, and some 01 them are too doting or childish even to deserve this eharauter. We have given these specimens without searching for those which are most improbable or most frivolous. But they are such, it seenis to us, as completely justify the first impressions which every rational man receives, from being wade acqitainted with the geounds on which a prophetic character is claimed for their author. We say first iiflpres- swus, because the disciples of Swedenborg allow, that the wri. tings of their great teacher do not always, if ever, approve the mselves to the judgment and uimder4anding of a novice. They tell us we must read and read, till our spiritual man is enlightened. We do not profess to have searched very deep. ly into the mysteries of this new faith; but from what pro.. gress we have made, it seems to us that the reader must either be moore and more wearied and disgusted as he advances, or, after being a~ bile bewildered in the mazes which lie between sense and nonsense, become as visionary and brainsick as the apostle of the New Jerusalem church himself. Now if these spiritual visions be the basis of all the spiritual knowledge of Swedenborg, which will not be denied by his followers, since it would take away the only proof on which they can rest, it may be safely presumed, that the great body of readers will regard timem as so utterly unworthy of a supernatural origiu, that they are not bound to examine any of the theories and dogmas that are founded upon them. Among the ixiost remarkable theories and dreams of Swe- denborg, are those concerning correspondences, particularly as connected with the internat se~~se of scripture, and Heaven and lieU. The science of correspondences, as it is technically called, is the key which unlocks the internal or spiritual sense, and thus 102 Swedenborgianism. LJau. exposes all the genuine and before hidden treasures of the word of God. Science, as it is called, however, it is of the most flexible kind; and while it arrogates to itself a uniform character, and one perfectly distinct from every thing else, it is at different times analogy, allegory, type, parable, 2neta- phor, or any thing else, which can help out an ingenious theory. It seems to us, however, for the most part, to be founded sometimes in knowii, and sometimes in ima- ginary analogies, between the natural and spiritual world; and to a certain extent it is neither nexv nor abhorrent from reason. But when it goes so far as to tell us that the spirit- ual always answers in form to the natural; that the material and spiritual world is a great man with all his parts; that God exists in a human shape; that the spiritual sun answers to the natural, and cheers with its radiant beams the celestial inhabitants; in fine, that every substance on earth has its cor- responding spiritual substance in the heavens; we are pre- sented either with a shadowy and unsatisfying fiction, or with one which we cannot divest of gross materialism throughout. Alike fanciful, if it he pressed far, is the supposed correspon- dence existing between the body of a man, in all its parts, and his soul or spirit; and no less so that which is maintained to exist between the letter and spirit in the writings of the Old and INew Testament. It is here that the science of corres- pondences becomes chiefly important, since it develops the ister~nal sense, which it is so essential to know ; though the first chi~istiaris, and the most enlightened in all succeeding ages, till the time of Swedenborg, were too simple, too much in Ihe infancy of knowledge, to comprehend any thing about it. That our readers may have some notion of this allimpor- taut doctrine of correspondences, so far as it l)url)orts to evohe the internal sense, we shall just touch on its history and application. On the authority of Swedenborg we are told, that the doc- trines of correspondences xvas well known to the ancients, xx ho deemed it the first of sciences, and wrote all their books according to its principles. The book of Job he asserts to be full of correspondences, and tells us that they also pervade the Egyptian hieroglyphics, and the fabulous stories of anti- (Julty. The ceremonials and statues too belonging to the dli- ft~rent religions of the ancients, were nothing but correspon- dences. All the rights and festivals of the Israchitish church, 1821.] Swedenborgianism. and the outward acts and the vestments of the priests were of the same kind. And, inasmuch as divine things fix their existence in outward nature in correspondences, therefore the word was written by mere correspondences; for ~vhatever proceedeth from the Divinity, when it comes into outward nature, manifests itself in such outward things as correspond with what is divine; which outward things become the repos- itories of divine things, otherwise called celestial and spiritu- al, that lie contained within them in a hidden and mysterious manner. We are told farther, by Swedenborg, how the science of correspon(lences, which was so extensively knowii and under- stood by the ancients, and which was long preserved among the Asiatics, particularly the wise men and divines, was in process of time obscurcd, and at lengLh totally lost. It began at first to be corrupted by the idolatrous and magical applica- tion of the representative rites of the church. What is most remarkable of all, the Israelites and Jews, whose divine worship is said to have consisted entirely of correspondences representing heavenly things, had no knowledge of a sin- gle thing represented, since they were mere natural men, and therefore had neither inclination nor ability to gain any un- derstanding of spiritual and celestial subjects. For the same reason they were necessarily ignorant of correspondences, these being representations of things spiritual and celestial in things natural, Further, we are informed how the idolatries of the Gentiles had their origin in the science of correspondences. The an- cients, who were versed in this science, made themselves ima- ges which corresponded with things celestial, and were de- lighted with them, because they could (liscern in them ~vhat related to heaven and the church, and therefore they placed those images both in their temples and in their houses, not with any intention to worship them, )ut to serve as a means of re- collecting the celestial things signified by them. These po- sitions are illustrated by particular instances, which, as far as we can discern, have nothing to do with the science of cor- respondences, or any other science. There is nothing of dis- covery in the fact announced, that the hieroglyphics of the Egyptians are founded in some analogy subsisting between the sign find what is signified; nor in the other fact, that the sen- sible objects which came to be worshipped as idols, were sig 104 ~zuedetzborgiaitism. f3an. nificatWe of moral qualities; but it is the mere aft~ectation of science to arrange these facts under a nune, Which is intend- ed to give an imposing character to the theory of a new re- ligion. Lastly, in this historic~il account, we cotne to the writings of the New Testament. The reason, says Swedenhorg, why the scieri~ of cerresjsm~ dences, which is the true key to the spiritual sense of the wor(I, wa~ not discovered to later ages, was, because the christians of the primib tive church were men of such great simplicity, that it was to no purpose to discover it to them ; for, had it been discovered, they lvoul(l have found no use in it, nor would they have understood it. After those first ages of christianity, there arose thick clouds of darkness, which overspread the whole christian world, first in consequence of many heretical opinions propagated in the church, and soofl after in consequence of the decrees and determihations in the council of Nice, c.mncerning the existence of three divinO persons from eternity, and concerniig The person of Christ, as the son of Mary, and not as the son of Jehovah God. Hence sprung the present faith of justification, in which tlnee Gods are approached and worshipped, according to their respective orders~ and on which depend all and every thing belonging to the present church, as the members of the body depend on the head. And because men applied every part of tne word to confirm this erro- neous faith, therefore the spiritual sense could not oe discovered; for, had it been discovered, they would have applied it also to the confirmation of the same faith, and thereby would have profaned the very holy word, and thus would have shut up heaven entirely against themselves, and have removed the Lord from the church. That the science of correspondences was known to the ancients, is a favourite part of Swedenborgs the~*ry on this subject; and in his vision which relates to it, the Grecian sages in heaveu put the most learned and enlightened chris- tians to shame for their igrwrance of that in their religion, which it was mainly important for them to know. And it is a position no less extraordinary, that through the whole period of the Hebrew di~uch, nothing of consequence was known concerning those dis~iensations of heaven which were expressly designed and cakitlated for a peculiar people; that nothing was understood by the L1ebre~s, but what ter- minatefi in mere external cereniony, and that their religion answered no great moral purpose in regard to their mdi- 1821.] Swedenborgianism. 105 vidual state. Were such vagaries worthy of a reply, we might ask ~vhether any man in his sense can believe that God, a God of infinite wisdom, could thus trifle with his rational offspring. We might more reasonably suppose him to impart a new animal sense, to correct the imperfections of those already given, or a new language, to shew that those now in existence are incapable of conveying any thing intel- ligible, than we can conceive that he has choseit a new mes- senger, to explain his word in a way that was never dreamed of, (or only dreamed of,) after it had been the prescribed rule of life to millions of intelligent beings, in successive ages of the world, who had founded upon it all their hopes of immor- tality, antI drawn from it all their consolation, amidst the trials and vicissitudes of life. If any thing were wanting to convince us of the extreme absurdity of what is denominated the science of correspon- dences in the New Jerusalem Church, the deficiency might be made up by an attenion to the manner in which it is applitil. Let one example suffice. In the vocabulary of this church, horse invariably signifies the understanding, and charzot means doctrine. That such, says Swedenborg, was the signification of chariot and horse, was peifeetly well known in the ancient churches, for those churches were representative churches, and with the people thereof the science of correspondences and representations was the chief of all sciences From those churches the signification of hwse, as expressive of the understanding, was derived to the wise men round about, even to Greece. Hence it was, when they would describe the sun, in which they placed the God of their wisdom and intelligence, that they attributed to it a chariot and four horses of fire. And when they would describe the rise of the sciences from understanding, that they also feigned a winged horse, which with its hoof broke open a fountain, at which were nine virgins called the sciences; for from the ancient church they received this knowledge, that by horse is signified the under- standing, by wings spiritual truth, by hoof what is scientific from the understanding, and by fountain doctrine from which sciences are derived. Nor is any thing else signified by the Trojan horse, than artifice or cunning exercised by their understanding in des- troying the walls. In& ed, in our day, when the uuderstanding is described after the manner received from those ancients, it is usual to figure it by a flying horse, or pegasus; so likewise doc .YVew Series, .N~x 5. 14 106 Swedenborgianism. [Jan. trine is described by a fountain, and the sciences by virgins; but scarce any one knows, that by horse, in the mystic sense, is sig. nified The understanding; still less that those significatives were derived from the ancient representative churches to the gentiles. That the range of this boasted science is circumscribed by no narrow limits, may be readily inferred from the strange, roving fancy, which is manifested in this extract. Indeed, by examination, it will be found that it extends through the three great kingdoms of nature. The name of every animal stands for some corresponding affection; trees and plants, whether individually, or in groves and gardens, represent some good or truth pertaining to the church; and every metal and precious stone, and indeed the ~vhole mineral king. dom, is significative of something moral or spiritual. Great delight is expressed by the disciples of Swedenborg at his account of the spiritual world, and the wonders he un~. folds concerning things invisible. He saw and heard, and acquainted himself with, what before him, eye had not seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived. The spin- tual world, according to his account, is composed of heaven, of the world of spirits, and of hell. There are three heavens, the celestial, the spiritual, and the inferior. Each, as a ~vhole~ and in its parts, corresponds to the form of a man; and the whole heavens, collecthely, correspond to the parts of the human body. The superior or celestial heaven is the head; the sj)initual or second heaven extends from the neck to the knees; and the inferior heaven forms the arms, even to the extremities of th~ fingers, and the legs to the soles of the feet. In heaven, we learn from the same source, are waters, groves, lands, palaces, gardens, cities, houses, animals, fruits, precious stones, gold, garments, in flue every thing we see on earth; with this difference, that the things of heaven are of a spiritual substance, more perfect in form and corresponding to the state of angels. In heaven also there are governments, employments, offices, amusements, di vine worship, travels, ranks, conditions of life civil and domestic, corresponding to the angelic state. The world of spirits is a place, or rather a state between heaven and hell; where every one goes as soon as he is dead. There every one is judged and thence ascends to heaven, or descends to hell; but those who go thither, remain for dif I$~l.i Swedenborgiauiam. 107 ferent periods of time, whether at their own option or not, we are not told. Some remain but a short time, others several years, though none pass in it more than thirty years. This reminds us of a story told by Erasmus, concerning a Romish ecclesiastic of some rank, who, after his death, should have been prayed out of purgatory by some of the priests. Hav- ing neglected their duty, they were censured by a prelate for the omission, in presence of a servant of the deceased, who entreated the prelate to give himself no uneasiness, for his master was of so restless a disposition, that he never spent, in one place, more than time enough to take a glass of wine. Swedenborg describes hell as exhibiting the appearances of vast holes or gulfs illuminated by a light that resembles burning coals. rf he eyes of the infernal spirits are fitted to that false light, so that when they withdraw from their cav- erns, they are grievously tormented by the celestial light. Again the abodes of hell appear like caves placed obliquely, or the subterraneous passages of mines, and to these are added many disgusting particulars which may as well be passed by. I have not, says Swedenborg, seen all the societies of the infernal regions, but God favoured me with the sight of many of them; and it was told me that as the entire heaven represented a man, so the whole hell represent- ed a devil. The punishment of those in hell is represented with suifi.. cient probability to consist in there being tormented by the same vicious inclinations and wicked passions, which they felt and indulged upon earth. But here again, in the details there are the same whimsical inventions or imagination that we have so often adverted to on other subjects. The wicked spirits seek for pleasures, honours, and riches, and obtain them, and lose them; they sit here and there, sad and soil. tary; they are hungry and have ~othing to eat; they enter into cottages where they beg to live, and where they seek for occupations, which they obtain and abandon. Pursued by their master, they take refuge in some cavern, there to ap- pease their hunger; the door is shut upon them; the master tells them they shall not escape, and unless they labour, they shall have neither food nor clothing. If they commit any fault, they are trampled in the dust, and miserably tormented. From this account, slight and general indeed, but faithful as far as it prQcecds, who would imagine himself conducted 108 Swedenborgianism. IJan. to the spiritual world? Every thing is made present by poetical creation, and in some measu~e familiar to us; the persons, indeed, appear somewhat strange to us; riot much more strange however than foreigners of our own hemis- phere; and every thing seems nattrral~ and not much unlike what we have commonly been accustomed to, s~iving that in heaven, it is more splendid and glowing than any of the ob- jects, and scenes9 and landscapes, which we witness on earth. Nothing reminds us of a spiritual world, but the perpetual recurrence of the words, and the constantly repeated asser- tion that, though the beings, and scenes, and substances are all such as we here behold, yet they are still spiritual. No sort of relative connexions between individuals and societies are unknown. Weddings have been witnessed by Sweden- borg in heaven, and illicit love in hell. And though the union of the sexes in heaven is represented as consisting of the most pure and elevated affections, yet it is described in terms of such rapturous delight, and depending so entirely upon the distinctions of sex, that it seems to differ little from a virtuous and refined state of wedlock in this terrestrial world. In what then does the heaven of Swedenborg differ materially from the heavenly paradise of Mahomet? In the christian scriptures a cloud hangs over the future, which does not indeed destroy our curiosity, but which makes our hol)es and our conceptions obscure arid imperfect. as they ever must be, concerning a state of being we have never wit. nessed, and whence no traveller has returned. It doth not yet appear what ~e shall be: this however is the dead let- ter, and Swedenborg finds the internal sense to beIt doth now appear what we shall be. In heaven they are neither married nor given in marriage: of this the internal sense is, that marriages are frequent in heaven, celebrated with splendour and enjoyed With rapture. It is not possible, we affirm, in our state of being. to conceive of such representa- tions, without sensual images; without having a material world brought to view, newly decorated indeed, and tricked out with an ornate drapery worthy of a fabulous age; but essentially the same as that in which we now live and move. Waving the difference of character between the two pre- tended prophets, and allowing that Swedenborg was self- deceived, and that Mahomet was a wicked impostor, which we think is doing justice to both; there appears to be no is~i.] Swedenborgiaaism. 109 essential difference in the evidence with which their revela- tiotis are accompanied. Mahomet, as well as Swedenborg, admitted the inspiration of Moses, and the authority (it the IPentateuch, ard of the prophetic writings; and also acknow.. ledged ~he divine mission of Christ, and the truth of the chris- tian scriptures. Mahomet claimed to be commissioned to purify these former dispensatious from their c9rruptions, and as the last and greatest prophet, to communicate diine in- struction to mankind. S Aedenborg professed to be instructed from heaven to exalt what was low in our conceptions of the Jewish and Christian religLnis, and to unfold that which, though comprising their most valuable contents, was before unkno~ n. Both think rather meanly of the niiracles of Moses and of Christ. The Mahonietan accounts the Koran itself as a perpetual miracle, and the greatest of miracles; the Swedenborgian esteems the inspiration discovered in the writings of his prophet, arid the intercourse which he held with the spiritual world, too dignified to be placed in compe- tition with the greatest miracles that were ever wrought. The remarks made by Mr. White, in his Bampton Lec- tures, concerning Mahomets representations of another life, apply with no material variation to Swedenborgs account of the spiritual world. He (Mahomet) generally descends to an unnecessary minuteness and particularity in his represen- tations of another life, which excite disgust and ridicule, instead of reverence: and even his most animated descrip- tions of the joys of paradise, or the torments of hell, however strong and glowing the colours in which they are painted, are yet far inferior in point of true sublimity, and far less calculated to l)romote the interests of piety by raising the hopes and alarming the fears of rational beings, than that degree of obscurity in which the future life of the gospel is still involved, and those more general terms in which its pro~ mises and threatenings are proposed to mankind. One remark has forced itself upon us, in our examination of the writings of Swedenborg and his disciples, that they turn what isjtist enough as a rhetorical co~uiparison into a pro- position of logical truth. We have no objection to comparing the radiance of truth to the radiance of light, nor to likening the progress of the understanding to the progress of the horse. These figures of speech, though good taste forbids their being harped on, are extremely excusable, particularly in 110 & .edenborgiunism. (3a~. young writers. The evil is to turn t4his into a foundation for grammatical interpretation, to say because truth is like the sun, that wherever the sun is mentioned in an ancient author, truth is meant; and that when he speaks of chariots an(l horses, he does not mean chariots and horses, but doc- trines and tenets; and that what the honest reader had taken for a four legged animal is after all a great theological mystery. Moreover, ii we may here waste an argument, this said doc- trine of correspondences seems quite shallQw and drawn up with very little skill. If every thing here has a correspon- dence ~vith higher things, and the horse and chariots, the trees and rivers of this world mean doctrines, and science, and understanding, and good; what do the truth, and science, and good~ which are here, correspond to? Because all these things to a certain degree exist, as well as horses and trees; and having assigned your spiritual ideas as correspondences to earthly chariots and horses, what have you left to corres- pond to earthly reason, judgment, conscience. For in- stance, in interpretation, let us grant that the chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof has nothing to do with the miraculous event, which actually was taking place, or with a real vision, but refers to some mystical notions of doctrine and knowledge. What then will you do with every prudent man dealeth with kno~vledge ;* to wh~it does that correspond? Or is the system timid and pusillanimous, seeking corres- pondences where they are convenient, and shrinking from a thorough ~vork? We have devoted more of our pages than we first intended, to a subject ~vhich some of our readers may think nn(leserv- ing of so much attention. When we began our remarks, we were disposed to believe the doctrine of the New Jerusalem rather a harmless delusion, except as it regards those who profess to be, or expect to become, teachers of the christian religion; a harmless delusion, we mean, to the irniividual who embraces it, for we are far from admitting the inno- cency of error. Solitary instances there may be of persons of a peculiar temperament, who by superadding to the simple doctrines and plain moral precepts of Christ, a religion of the Imagination, attain to a state of serenity, of cheerfulness, and of hope, amidst all the vicissitudes of this mortal life, far beyond what falls to the lot of most good christians. But we must be careful how we admit this as an argument ~~4or *Pr.v xiii. 16. 1821.] Swedenborgia*isrn. 111 such a religion is not far removed from one that consists in raptures, and ecstacies, and perpetual revelations; aa~d bor- ders on madness. if, in the course of our remarks, there be any seeming want of courtesy towards the members of the New Jerusalem, or any disregard to their feelings, we can truly affirm that nothing of this kind was intended. We are happy in this place to declare, that we have known those of this commun- iota (who are now beyond the reach of our praise or blame, but who, if living, we should be most loth to wound) in whom, ~ believe, resided spirits as pure, as amiable, and as exalted, as humanity admits. And we still know many of the same communion, who merit similar praise. Our prepossessions thereflue in a great portion of individual examples have been in favour of the benign influence of this new doctrine, though we have never deemed them sufficiently numerous to establish a general conclusion. Iii the little progress that this new doctrine has made in our country, and throughout the christian world, we perceive 110 occasion for alarm. If we have given an account suffi.. ciently full and fair of what is peculiar to it, it must be evident, we think, that it is a religion suited to a frw and a few only. Such vagaries, as make up a great part of the scheme, can never take possession of a well balanced mind; and so great is the demand which they make on our credulity, that the proselyti;ag brethren of the new church generally begin their operatious, by recommending to the inquirer such of the writings of Swedenborg, as are least likely to excite merri- ment or disgust. His expositions of the commonly received doctrines of christianity, in many cases, seem to us the most probable, and in many they appear very irrational and ab- surd. But, as we before remarked, it is what is peculiar in his views of religion that chiefly concerns us, and furnishes the true ground to try his exalted pretensions. If in this trial he is not found wanting, we must give up all title to soun(l judgment in weighing evidence, and with it all anxiety about the progress of error, superstition, and fanaticism; for if the understanding of all mystery and all knowledge is to be attained in dreams and visions only, who would not ab- stract himself from the world, and commune by day and by night with beings all pure, and perfect, and wise, iii the world of spirits? 112 Ilayti. [Jan. ART. VI...i. I4flexions Politiques sur quciques Oworages et Journaux Fra,,~,ais coucernant Hayti, par M. le Baron de JTastey, Secr~taire du Rot, Chevalier de 1 Ordre Royal et .Militaire de Saint Henry, Pr~cepteztr de Son .~ttesse Royale .Monseigneur le Prince Royale d Hayti ~c. A Satis- Souci, de lIrnprirncrie Roy ale, I 817, 8vo. pp. xx. 206. 2. Iteflexurns sur les .JVoirs et les Blaucs c~e. par le Baron de Vastey. Au Cap-Henry, cbez P. Roux, Imprimeur du Rol, 1816, 8vo. pp. 1 i2. s. slcte de tiud~pendance dHayti. Au Cap-Henry, 4to. 4. Code linry. Au Cap-Hetiry, chez P. Roux, Imprimeur du Roi, 1812, 8vo. pp. 754. 5. Gazette Royale dHayti. 6. Des .Illmanachs Royals dIlayti, 8vo. 7. Des Ordonnances, Declaratio~& s, Proclamations, 4c. du Roi 4 Hayti. 8. Relation de la Ff3te de S. .ttl. la ileine d Ilayti a-vec un Coup- dceil Politique sur La Situation actuelle du ltoyaume dHayti. Au Cap-Henry, chez P. Roux, Imprimeur du Roi, 1816, 8vo. pp 76. 9. LEntrt~e du Roi en sa Capitale, Opera Vaudeville, par J~f. le (Jomle de Rosiers. A Sans-Souci, de 1Imprimerie Royale, 1818, Bvo, pp. 48. SOME of these works have considerable intrinsic merit; and we have therefore resolved to place them before our readers, not only because they are little, if at all, known in this country, but also because they were written by the desceud- ants of negcoes, and by nobles of the late kingdom of Hayti. They will afford us a specimen of the literature of that singu- lar nation, and some means of judging of the intellectual dignity, which a population of blacks may hope to reach, in the most favourable circum4ances. The writhgs of M. de Vastey, which consist of a chief part of the works at the head of this article and of a few pamphlets of less importance, are very favourable specimens of the na- tive mental force of a Haytian. Self-educated, as are most of his countrymen of any distinction, struggling constantly for the first thirty years of his life, against every thing which could damp or stifle a literary ambition, lie has nevertheless acquire(l a respectable style, a correct knowledge of his lan- guage, and a store of information of considerable variety and

112 Ilayti. [Jan. ART. VI...i. I4flexions Politiques sur quciques Oworages et Journaux Fra,,~,ais coucernant Hayti, par M. le Baron de JTastey, Secr~taire du Rot, Chevalier de 1 Ordre Royal et .Militaire de Saint Henry, Pr~cepteztr de Son .~ttesse Royale .Monseigneur le Prince Royale d Hayti ~c. A Satis- Souci, de lIrnprirncrie Roy ale, I 817, 8vo. pp. xx. 206. 2. Iteflexurns sur les .JVoirs et les Blaucs c~e. par le Baron de Vastey. Au Cap-Henry, cbez P. Roux, Imprimeur du Rol, 1816, 8vo. pp. 1 i2. s. slcte de tiud~pendance dHayti. Au Cap-Henry, 4to. 4. Code linry. Au Cap-Hetiry, chez P. Roux, Imprimeur du Roi, 1812, 8vo. pp. 754. 5. Gazette Royale dHayti. 6. Des .Illmanachs Royals dIlayti, 8vo. 7. Des Ordonnances, Declaratio~& s, Proclamations, 4c. du Roi 4 Hayti. 8. Relation de la Ff3te de S. .ttl. la ileine d Ilayti a-vec un Coup- dceil Politique sur La Situation actuelle du ltoyaume dHayti. Au Cap-Henry, chez P. Roux, Imprimeur du Roi, 1816, 8vo. pp 76. 9. LEntrt~e du Roi en sa Capitale, Opera Vaudeville, par J~f. le (Jomle de Rosiers. A Sans-Souci, de 1Imprimerie Royale, 1818, Bvo, pp. 48. SOME of these works have considerable intrinsic merit; and we have therefore resolved to place them before our readers, not only because they are little, if at all, known in this country, but also because they were written by the desceud- ants of negcoes, and by nobles of the late kingdom of Hayti. They will afford us a specimen of the literature of that singu- lar nation, and some means of judging of the intellectual dignity, which a population of blacks may hope to reach, in the most favourable circum4ances. The writhgs of M. de Vastey, which consist of a chief part of the works at the head of this article and of a few pamphlets of less importance, are very favourable specimens of the na- tive mental force of a Haytian. Self-educated, as are most of his countrymen of any distinction, struggling constantly for the first thirty years of his life, against every thing which could damp or stifle a literary ambition, lie has nevertheless acquire(l a respectable style, a correct knowledge of his lan- guage, and a store of information of considerable variety and is I. extent. The manner in which those of his nation, who pos~ sess ~tny acquAintance With letters, obtained it, and they are by no means few, is feelingly described by himself in reply to some gross reproach of the late colonists. The treatment of the slaves in St. Domingo is known to Iia~e been of the severest ki~d. and when the revolution broke out, they were in the most deplorable state that can be con~ ceived; they knew nothing, hoped nothing9 their apathy was si profoind, their moral arid physical faculties were so paralyzed by the weight of slavery. They looked not beyond the mere siipptut of life, the bare vegetative existence of things rooted into the ~oil. ~rom this abject condition they sprung up at once into the enj4yment of their faculties; an invincible love of freedom instantly transformed them into men ; imperious necessity ga~& them writers ti~ defend their cause. and ~oldiers who vanquished the best troops in the world: and in the brief, intervals of repose from defeat and from forced marches, their leading characters ~atched a moment for intellednal acquisitiolis. which afterwards assured to them md en~lent~e aftd empire. It is but twenty five years since we were plunged in slavery and in the most eQinpiete ignorance; we hnd no i(Jea of civil society, no conception of happine~s, not a single strong sensation; our physical and moral faculties were so stupified by the weight of slavery, that I myself, who write this, believed the woild ended with the scope of my vision; my thoughts were so confin- ed that the simplest things were above my c(Jmprehension; and all mycoontrymen were as ignorant as myself, and if possible still more ignorant. I have been perfectly ~well acquainted with many who learned to read and write themselves, without instruc- ters; they went about with books in their hands. interrogated those whqm they met, and beseeched them to explain the sigrmifi- cation of such a sign or such a word. Reflex. Pot. p. 9~, 93, rrote. Out of such a state of things and in such a manner arose M de Vastey. His colour* gave him some little advantage over pure blacks, during the continuance of the colonial gov- ernment; but this advantage was brief and slight, and we may consider him as a person, who has escaped from the lowest moral and intellectual degradation9 by the force of his own The Baron de Vastey is a yellow man, either a mulatto or mestizo; it has not been in our power to ascertain which. .TVew Series, .T~o. 5. 15 114 Hr~!fli. [Jan. powers and in opposition to the whole strength of unpropi- lions circumstances. If we criticise his writings with this point in view, we shall be compelled to think him a man of no common talents, nor deserving of mere common applause. Each of his works was composed to repel the reiterated attacks, and expose the still accumulating calumnies of the forinei~ planters. The first in order of time, and that with which our readers are probably best acquainted, is particu- lady designed to maintain the character of blacks, and assert their iight to hope for approaching civilization, with pass- ing reference to the revolution; the second to refute several of the most plausible misrepresentations made by foreign journalists and ex-colonial writers with regard to the present situation of the government, rights, and prospects of the king- dom of Hayti. An ardent spirit of patriotism runs through them, and gives them an animation and a zeal, which deeply fix the readers attention. They teem with expressions of hatred against the late colonists, which, however, we cannot easily reprehend in the quarter from whence they proceed. The vehemence of a once oppressed, but now victorious sol- dier, the fire of an emancipated slave, the vigorous pride of a regenerate African are all wrought into the style of these pamphlets and amply atone for their few trifling defects in arrangement and composition. In examining the present intellectual character of the blacks and more especially of the people of Hayti, we shall make free use of the materials scattered through these and several other publications of the same nature in our possession, together with what light we have been able to procure from different sources of intelli- gence. The slave-trade, which originated in a superstitious notion prevalent in the dark ages, that infidels were not entitled to the privileges of human beings, has been since perpetuated and defended by prijudices equally ridiculous with regard to the minds of the blacks, whom we are desired to believe incapable of elevation, order, and improvement. The generous self-devotion of modern philanthropists has gone far towards eradicating this opinion and abolishing the traffic connected with it; and it is well known to have been our own country and our own southern states that set the example to the world of the abolition of this disastrous traffic. Among the grounds on which it was defended, was an alleged natural inferiority of t.8~1.] Ha~fli. 115 intellect on the part of the blacks; and the difliculty was to point out a nation of this colo~jr that had reached any tolerable degree of civilization. Such aii example is given to the world in the case of the people of Ilayti. We consider the single fact of their regeneration as decisive in favour of the blacks. Never was a servittftle more complete, nevel was abasement more hopeless, never was ignorance more deplo- rable, than that of the slaves of Saint Domingo. France, in the mainess of the revolution, proclaimed liberty through the colony, and at once conferred political rights Qfl these miserable beings; but shortly repenting of her generosity, she tried to reduce them again to slavery, by force or fraud; and when she found they had not tasted the sweets of freedom in vain, she commenced that series of barbarities, which sur- passed even her own reign of terror, and which will never be forgotten as the revolution of Saint Domingo. But the party prevailed, which deserved to prevail; for once poetic justice was done in this grand drama of life; the blacks fought on, through reverses and sufferings unrivalled, till they became independent, and not a single one of their old oppressors remained on the soil of Hayti. What revolutit~n~as the world ever beheld, that was comparable to this in the credit which it does to the aptitude and perseverance of its leaders? Other revolutions were conducted by men who were free, if not independent; who had befoz~e enjoyed the. rights of men and knew how to prize them; who were comparatively speaking enlightened and civilized. But this was of a nature far more wonderful its chiefs were just loosed from slavery; they ~vere utterly destitute of any species of knowledge, which was to lit them to be soldiers, politicians or even sobjects; their arms ~vere at first nothing but stakes or wooden dirks, or iron hoops rudely fashioned into sabres; in their early hattles they l)recipitate(l themselves in disoiganized crowds upon the cannon of their enemies ;* and they were opposed to the most acute and warlike nation of modern times, acting under every excitement of interest, pride, indignation and despair. Surely no more convincing argument in proof of the capacity of blacks could be required, than their achieve.~ ment of such a revolution. They fought with heroical coolness and courage. Their blindness was such, that many of them dared to thrust their arms into the cannons, crying out to their comrades, zeni, ceni, moi Gas 6en ii, & c. .?Ilalenfant, lies Colonies, p. 18. 116 [Jtln. A few extracts froi~i the Bai~on de Vastey will shov the Stlff9rings of hk c3untrynlen to1lwv~e been without any thi~tg similar in revohitionary annal~, ajid will justify us ih th# severe terms itt which we hav& alluded to the coh~nist~. We have seen our fellow-citiz~ens, friends and relations, with. out distinction of age or sex, dragged to execution~ some to be burnt at tl~e stake, others to he exposed to birds of prey Ost gib. b& ts; same thrown to the dogs to be devoured, others more for- tunate perishing ~t the point oF the dagger or bayonet. In places which the whites evacuated, thousands of the Haytians, who had fought in ~their ranks, were so credulous as to trust in their generosity; unwilling to abandon the whites in the extremity of their (listress, they followed them to the vessels in which they em- barked, taking with them their wives and children and the little pro. perty they had~ been able to save from pillage; but scarcely were thoy on bohrd wheti they wete loaded with chains and precipi- tated into the hold of the ship, there to sutThr the most dreadful torment~ Every night hundreds of them were brought on deck bou 05] together with cords arid enulosed in large sac~s with their b~bes, in which they were throwninto the sea after being stabhed through the sacks. as it otherwise some deit~y might interpose for their succor t~nd preservation. At other times republican mar- r*iges were made like those of La Ventifie, a man ~nd woman being fastehed together with chab -shot abbut their r~ecks and thus ~h~o~wiVinto the sea amid acciamations and cries of joy. Hundreds shut up in the holds of ships were stifled to death with burning sulphur. Day came, to throw ll~ht upon the criujies of the night, and our shores, cov& red with the corpses of o~r friends, testified against the barbarity of the whites, and foretold us oUr own terri~de destiny. After describing a scene, that;he bad witnessed, in which some of his countrymen were burned at the stake ~ ith cii- cumstances of aggravated cruelty, he proceeds to make men- tion of a horrible species of torture employed h~ the ex.eolo- nists, namely, delivering up their captives to be devoured alive by blood-bounds. The first time that men were devoured by dogs* was at the Cape in the convent of nuns and even in the house of general Boyer ! Afterwards the theatre of this scene of horrors was A. peck of blood.hounds was procured for this purpose from Cuba. Quarterly Rev xxi, 448. The blacks were hutited dowo with these dogs, as the native inhabitants of the Antilles were by the Spaniards. & yti. 117 changed to the lfaut-du.Cap, on the plantation Charrier. Here the dogs were conducted, and in order to give them a relish for it, they were from time to time fed with human flesh. Many days beforehand, they were kept without food so as to stimulate their hunger, and occasionally a victim was presenfed to them and withdrawn as soon as they were ready to rush and seize him; and when the day arrived in which prisoners were to be delivered to the dogs, the victims were bound to posts to prevent their defending themselves, the commissaries being present, cloth. ed in their municipal scarfs and military uniform. The dogs were then let loose to rush upon their prey; while the whites excited them on; and when the dogs were weary and sated with blood, their masters were compelled to finish the work of death with their poniards. Having noticed the perfidious treatment which Toussaint is well known to have experienced, our author repeats other facts of the same nature. Oenerals 3. Maurepas and C. B~1air were executed; Maure. pas5 being nailed alive to the mainmast of the ship Annihal~ ift presence of his wife and children, and afterwards thrown into the sea with his whole family; B~Iair was shot with his wire, this heroine exhorting him to imitate her and die coo ra~eou~ly.t Thomany, Domage, Lamahoti~re, a crowd of ofi~cers and ci izens of rank were hung like convicts: those who escaped the dagger ahd the gibbet died by poison, as did the generals Vilatte, L~veill6 and Gaulard: and many more were transported to the Main t~ be sold for slaves, or to France to finish their career in the gal~ lies.-.-.Reftex. Sur tes .TVoirs and les Blancs, p. 95103. All these are notorious facts unquestioned and unquestion-. able. The revolution is full of such enormities. Both sides contended with a revengeful hatred, a personal animosity that was terrible in its consequences. I he planters fought with all the desperate rage of men, who had l1)ng exercised unrestrained tyranny over their antagonists, and who felt A pair of epaulettes was nailed upon his shoulders and a military hat upon his head with iron spikes. ~ The history of the revolution contains another instance of female courage equally heroical. The black general Charles Chevalier was con- deme:ed to he hung; and his wife, perceiving that lie exhibited signs of weakness, sprung to the cord and hung herself before him, cryii~g out K What! do you not know how to die for liberty? Mcdenfant, Des Cola.. nie.,p. lOS, neec. Ha~,iti. fJan. that wealth, power, vengeance would be gained by victory and lost by defeat; the liberated slaves, on the other hand,~. solemnly swore iiever again to submit to the cruelties of their former masters, but rather to shed every drop of blood in their veins, nay to die a thousand deaths. What wait ye for? sai(I one of the noblest of these slaves to his compatriots.* Why do you not appease the spirits of your slaughtered bro- thers, sisters, children, wives? Remeinher that you will hereafter desire to sleep with their remains: will you de~ scend into their tombs before you have avenged their wrongs? No : if you should dare to be so base, their bones would repulse yours with contempt or shriuk from them with hor~ ror. Exhortations, such as this, must he maddening; they must produce a struggle unequalled by any thing else which history records. France has never ceased to long for the restoration of her, colonial dominions. She has sown faction and discord among. the chiefs of Hayti; tampered with the pcople; resorted to every stratagem and every artifice to effect her ends. Her emissaries betrayed the generous arid noble-minded Tous- saint-Louverture to chains, traiisportation, imprisonment and death; they assassinated the brave emperor Dessaliries; and they have been incessantly plotting the destruction of presi. dent P~tion and of king Henry, by stirring up their follow- ers against each other and breeding civil wars in the bosom. of Hayti. But these exertions have proved unavailing. One ej)hemeral government has passed away and a second ~has followed it, and others more firm and stablehave arisen out of the ruins of their predecessors to share their fate, and a new one is just entering upon the stage; but Hayti, n~twith.. standing her divi4~led and fluctuating governments, continues and probably will ever continue independent. But, notwithstanding the character, which the blacks in Hayti must be allowed to have gained themselves, for physi- cat hardihood, for independence of spirit and for zeal in the defence of their liberty, the advocates of the doctrines of their inferiority may still insist on their intellectual debility, and declare, that although the mere bodily strength ~nd ani- inal bravery of the blacks, aided by what the blacks theni. t~clves have been accustomed to denominate their avenging ~cte de 1Independence dHa114. 1821.] Ha~~tti. 119 climate,* may have given them independence, still they have not the wi~dorn, the knowledge, the force of mind requir~d to perpetuate their national being and embellish it with lite- rature, science, and civilization. Let us see if the history of Hayti does not overthrow this hypothesis. We feel confi- dent that a review of the policy of that part of th~ nation, which constituted the late kingdom, and which, from the nature of its government as well as from the character of its rulers, hitherto has attracted more notice and actually done more that deserves attention than the rest of the island, will prove that a people of blacks are able to preserve that iiide- pendence by their wisdom, which they had acquired by their resolution and perseverance. A nation, which has attained considerable refinement, which is tranquil within and threatened by nothing but ordi- nary dangers from abroad, can enjoy a free and republican government; but when a country has he~ri pluiiged for two centuries in the lowest degradation, when its inhabitants have been sunk below the level of ordinary political oppression, hind when, although exalted to the rank of a nation, it has continued to be harassed by restless and able enemies,in such a country, the firm hand of kingly power is needed to stifle faction, repel aggressors. and give energy, despatch, and secrecy to the public measures. It is impossible, there- fore, not to praise the design which established a monarchy in Hayti, strengthened the king by the grant of adequate po~ er and endowed him with revenues and military forces for his (lefence against foreign and domestic assailants. The recent death of the king has, it is true, been followed by a revolution in the government; but, as we shall take occa- sion to remark hereafter, this circumstance neither proves that the king was bad, nor that a monarchical government was ineligible in Ilayti. The government was then, is now, and must be for a long time to come, a military despotism. Little does it matter~ indeed, what is the form of a government, if it be sagely conducted, and its only aim be the public hap. piness and peace; but in no case whatever can there he free. doni in the government, until there is a free people on whose foundation to build up that government. Hayti, we doubt not, enjoyed more prosperity under the sceptre of an absolute Acte de lIndependence dffa~,ti. 1~o Hayti. fJm. king, than she could ever have hoped for from republican in~ Stit Iii 10315. What twer ridicule we may attach to the notion of a black arrayt~(1 in the splendors of royalty, or decorated with orders of kdghthood, or wearing the robes and coronets of nobility, we niust hold it, particularly in all European countries, to be a ridicule highly misplaced. A nob hit) was the natural and proper consequence of the monarchical form of government, and was desirable to give it stability, finish, and strength. The court of king Henry was chiefly composed of military men of distinction, who had been ennobled or knighted for their merit alone; and we have no doubt that they might advantageously compare in politeness of manners and gener- al intelligence with the best society in the colony previous to the revolution. The king himself was a man of fine features, noble presence, and accomplished nianners4* who e~hib- ited unequivocal marks of talents of the ~ery first order, in elevating himself from the meanest station of a black to royal and unlimited power, in defending his realm through civil and foreign warfare, in establishirtg the prosperity of his coutitry and in securing the good will of his people, who regarded him as an affectionate fathert and revered him as a potent monarch. Foreign merchants and officers, as well as natives of Hayti, have uniformly borne testimony to the couiage, military skill, humanity and benevolence of Henry. The mulattoes in the south, indeed, always reviled his measures; and since his death, many general assertions of his cruel disposition have gone the round of the public journals ; hut it is enough that no shadow of a proof exists in support of these foul and unauthorized aspersions on the character of the deceased monarch.t His authority, although despotic, was English officers, who have seen king Henry, have repeatedly noticed his reseoiblance in features and appearance to the late king George III. Blaek7000de Magazine; Quarterly Review. ~ The lotver clas:;es, in speaking of him, almost universally employed the words boa papa d nous, that is notre boa pare. * Our favourable opinion of the late king was derived from persons who had the means ofjud~ing fi~r themselves on the spot, and is contrAicted by no facts in any of the histories of the revolution. Lest we shond he thought singular in this opinion we will subjoin two extracts of a similar import, one from the Q arterly Review for .tpril 1819, and another from the British Review for March 1820. His military talents were very respectable, and his courage unshaken; his disposition humane and benevolent. In the exercise of all the social 1-~2t.] Hayti. 121 exercised with discretion and promptly obeyed. When the magazines a year or two since were fired and burned, by means of a stroke of lightning, all classes ot~ men wit~oiit distinction were instantly put in requisition toe the Pu~P~~ of repairing the damage, and with few exceptions Fea(lily marched out of Cape-Henry with drums beating and colouri~ flying to labour on the works of Sans-Sonci. Sudi a fact proves the subordination of the people and the strength of the government, in a wanner the most indubitable. Th~ king had ministers, of course, but he still was his own counsellor and personally judged of the correctness of his ser ants ad- ministration. Thus every paper, every official rel)ort, alt public documents were actually examined by him, so that no treasonable attempt could escape his knowledge, no fraud or act of oppression be concealed from his cognizance. It may be mentioned also, as illustrating his policy an(l showing the channel in which the measures of a strong government in- stinctively run, that almost all the specie, which entered the kingdom, fiiially reached the royal coffers; for a large pro- portion of the customs and taxes were required in money, and its exportation was strictly and effectually prohibited. An- other curious indication of his views may be seen in the flwt, that the court-dresses, fetes, and other expenses of that nature were so designed as to consume much of the superfluous reve- nues of the noblemen, and thereby prevent their entertaining projects inimical to the peace of the kingdom. All these anecdotes betoken a suspicious government, and one gratui- tously jealous; and can we reasonably expect less, consider. ing the peril, to which the government was constantly exposed, social virtues he has been eminently distinguished; he is a good husband, a good father, a steady friend, and strict in the observance of all the duties of religion and morality. Contrary to the common custom among his black countrymen, he attached himself in early life to one woman, whom he never forsook; and that woman is now queen of Flayti, beloved by all ranks and conditions. During the struggle for independence, he displayed great bravery and military skill, and his disposition was then, and is now, generally con- sidered to be both humane and benevolent. The republican inhabitants, however, of Hayti represent him as a severe and sanguinary tyrant, and in their journals and other writings usually call him another lhalaris. But those, who have resided under his government, unanimously give hini the character of being a good husband and ~ good father, affable in private life, and observant of the duties of morality and of the offices of reli. gion ;qualities which are utterly irreconcileable with the cruelties charg~ ed upon him by his enemies.~ .~New Series, X~. 6, 16 122 Ha~jti. [San. both from civil wars and from the insidious measures adopted by the court of France? But such details prove, beyond a doubt, the talents of the king to have been far above those of ordinary white monarchs. Nor are we quite sure that there is a king alive, who has shown himself half so worthy to wear a diadem, as the late sovereign of Hayti. The compilation of the Code-Henry was an act of equal wisdom with the establishment of royalty in Hayti. The whole island was before governed by the colonial laws, b~ those tyrannical institutions, which originally caused the wretchedness and excited the revolution of Hayti. Emanci.. pated slaves would have acquired only partial independence, if they had set down contentedly under the laws of their mas~ ters. It was requisite that a new code should be drawn up and enacted, applicable to the situation of the country and capable of securing the regular administration of justice. Such a system is the Code-Henry. Could a nation of whites have exhibited more prudence and wisdom in a similar situa- tion? However imperfectly these laws may have been ex. ecuted, their very existence proves the judgment of the Haytians. Even if the military power of the monarch did sometimes predominate over the laws, this is no more than was inevitable in a kingdom where a revolution was just subsiding and which had barely reached independence. But the truth is, that justice has been regularly and effectively administered with general reference to the Code-Henry. The political situation of Hayti with respect to foreign nations likewise strongly testified in favour of the people and government. Content and happy to live in peace, satisfied with their lot, they felt no desire to disturb the tranquillity of their neighbours.* Throwing open their ports to the ships of every nation but that which bears one interdicted flag, they required of foreigners only that they would abstain from officiously meddling with the political and interior affairs of the kingdom. Circumspect, active and severe, suspicious from the dear-bought experience they had received, they were so conscious of their present happiness that they did every thing cheerfully which could tend to make it perpetual; and therefore as the state of the country required that the ~ Let not us, said they in the declaration of independence, like revolti. tionary beacon-fires, standing up as legisiatorsof the Western Islands, make our glory to consist in disturbing their tranquillity. 821.] Ilayti. 12S police should be strict and the government strong-armed, they were so from the free choice and inclination of the peo- ple. One of the earliest acts of the government was to fix on a system of financial administration, which should support and uphold the monarchy. The revenue of the king was employed in constructing citadels, fortresses and arsenals; in preparing artillery, ammunition and provisions for future emergencies; and in keeping under arms, clothing and main.. taming a numerous body of troops of the line. The distrust, with which the situation of the country required that foreign- ers should be treated, deprived them of the means of ascer- taining the true defensive force of the kingdom. But it was known that cannon, saltpetre and gunpowder were manufac- tured in the island; fortresses were erected in all parts of the sea-hoard and interior, some of which are reputed im- pregnable, especially the citadel and works at Sans-Souci; and the~king ~was said to keep constantly in pay a standing army of fifty thousand men,* and to support a militia still more considerable. The king was fully seconded by his sub- jects. Not a man lay down to rest, who was not ready to wake with arms in his hands for the defence of his freedom. These at least are tokens of intellectual vigok, of a determi- Dation to be forever independent. Nor is it strange that mar- tial law should have seemed to prevail in a kingdom, which was in constant apprehension of being assailed by the most deadly foes, and which was incessantly menaced with total extermination. Indeed it is difficult and almost impossible to make the laws reign, when a whole people is menaced by a cruel and barbarous foe with extermination; and when all are in arms for the defence of their homes, their liberty and their independence. Then the best regulated government inevitably tends to become arbitrary; the police grows more suspicious, more active, and more severe; the ordinary course of aiThirs is interrupted ; every thing suffers, every thing is changed ; persons and property are harassed with requisitions; a universal movement is imparted to the nation.. Soldiers, merchants, mantafacturers and hushandmen, men and women, young and old, even the strangers who reside in our cities, are more or less affected by this state of violence ; the govern- ment unconsciously clashes with the laws; it knows and laments Lacroix however estimates the regtilar army at only 25,800 men. AIJ. moirer pow rervir ~z 1 liistoire do 4s Revolution do St. Domengue. 1~4 Hayti. (Jan. it~ but in this cruel necessity public safety is the supreme law.... As soon as this situation is diminished, the laws resume their einl)ire; order and security are restored; each one returns to his accustorne(l labors, though without being lulled asleep by the seeming peace, but always keeping his eyes open on that object Which concerns him most, the preservation of his rights, liberty and independence.*~Reflex. Pot. 74, 75. With respect to the quality of their troops, perhaps there is ziot a country on earth ~vhich cart produce an army in finer discipline, in more complete order, more brave, resolute, hardy, an(l faithful. than the troops of Hayti. The muscular strength of negroes, their capacity for supporting long-con- tinued privations, their patience under hunger, thirst, fatigue and exposure, their adaptation to tropical climates, all render them superior to whites in their power of enduring the hard- ships of military service. When to these natural advanta- ges of body and mind is added a knowledge of all the arts of modern warfare, exact subordination and regular exercise, the blacks become eminently l)owerful. No picked men that we can rank together, no splendor of uniform, can equal the appearance of their sinewy limbs, their dark features, their bright eyes and teeth, contrasted and set off against each other; and if we should be required to point out any troops in the world, which exhibited an aspect the most fear- ful and warlike, the best fitted to strike terror into the heart of an enemy, in short the most military, we should feel no hesitation in fixing upon a well-disciplined array of free able- bodied negroes. These circumstances being combined, we think ourselves justified in assigning the preference over all others to the black troops and especially the late royal da- Aornets of Hayti. That they produee able officers can any one doubt, who considers their victories over the best troops of Spain, of the Republic, arid of Bonaparte, and who recol- lects the names of Vernet, Clervaux, Toussaint-Louverture, J. J. Dessalines, Petion, Christophe and Boyer? ilayti has indicated more intellectual power in her military affairs, than elsewhere, because every thing has long corn- ~elled her to make war an object of almost undivided atten- Cape-Henry could not he defended in case of an invasion; and there- fore every house-holder is prepared with torches, so that in half an hour the blacks could wrap in flames a city quite as populous and twice as Iar~e as Boston. 1821.1 Ha 1jti. 12~ tion. Still menaced by the ex-colonists, exposed on her southern frontier, and unsettled in her interior provinces, an immense number of her inhabitants has been constantly with- drawn from the mechanical pursuits of peace, from agriculture, commerce and manufactures, both to recruit her armies and engage in the labor of erecting fortresses, transporting mu- nitions of war, and otherwise aiding in the defence of the kingdom. They have nevertheless made a respectable ad- vancement in the useful arts, particularly in those arts which are subservient to the purposes of war and agriculture. For the nation is a nation of warriors and husbandmen; the peo- pie go from the plough to the field of battle, and thence back again to the pursuits of agriculture; and almost every man past the middle age can show honorable scars in evidence of his bravery during the revolution. In military tactics, in engineering, in fortification, in cannon-foundry, in the man- ufacture of powder, bombs and arms, they are as expert as any ~ hites could ever have been in the same circumstances. Leclerc had under his command many of the first military men of France; arid the peol)le of Ilayti, by serving under or against him and receiving instructions from his officers, have acquired a portion of the proficiency in the art of war, which had been attained at that period by the Republic. Printing- presses have been erected; and their execution is such, that the books now before us might compare with some of the better publications in our country for beauty of type and paper, as well as correctnes9. In all the lesser manufactures, in those arts wiiich are constantly required in the common affairs of life, the people have skill enough to supply most of their own ordinary wants, and in some few things tbey have reached considerable perfection. Commerce they have none, except what is carrie(l on at home for the sale of their produce to foreiguers or the purchase of articles in exchange ;* and here they exhibit adequate intelligence and fairness. But it is in ag~icultiire hat the blacks have done most for the perfection of lie peaceful arts. The land, it is true, is so rich and fer- tile. and the climate is so l)ropitious, that little cultivation is requisite; and therefore while the state of the country re This commerce is conducted very much by barter, as the country has not been quiet long enough to produce an abundance of specie. 126 Ha~ti. [Jan. mains unsettled and liie pept~ation tbin* and called away to different pursuits, we cannot expect that much refinement of agriculture will be bestowed on the plantations. indeed some of the best of them are still~but haif-tenanted; so that immense quantities of coffee have sprung up sfontaneously every year and perished on the stalks, even when the demand for it has been greatest, through want of hands to gather it in for the zaarket, $tiIl the art of agriculture was never in so respect. able a state as it has been since the revolution. The coIonii~ system was execrable. The planters knew little of the use of machines, and in fact employed no labor but that of slaves, who were therefore in full and constant requisition. Noth.. jug was raised which could interfere with the produce of the metropolis, no wine, oil, grain, nor any other of the staples of France. indigo, coffee, sugar, cotton Mud cocoa were al~ most the sele articles of cultivation in the colony. But now the face of things is entirely changed: mechanical arts and animals diminish the sum of human labour; and experiments are making in order to introduce the general culture of corn, vines and other plants, adapted to The climate and wants of the present inhabitants. Potatoes are planted with success; bananeries are established on all the considerable farms; grain and articles of food of every description are raised in many parts of the island; and rapid advances are making toward an improved state of agriculture. It has been said, that the lower class of people were bonds- men or serfs, that they were bought and sold with the land on which they dwelt, and that in short a species of mitigat- ed slavery still prevailed in Hayti. But the fact is, we speak of the kingdom alone, that all classes of men, from the noble to the husbandman, are properly and strictly speaking free. As with all undertenants on extensive states a change of the principal owner is made without asking the consent of those who cultivate the land; and therefore the transfer of a plantation might in this view be considered a transfer of the labourers upon it, because it transfers their chosen resi- dence. But the proprietors cannot by their own power re- move a cultivator from plantation to plantation; the quantity, kinds, and seasons of labour are fixed by law; the labourers ~are hired by the proprietors, and receive as wages a regular The black population of Tlayti was estimated at 700,000 in the year 1789; and has probably increased somewhat since that time. 182t.) Ita!Iti. allotment of one quarter of the gross produce of the land, on which they live, for their own exclusive use and undisturbed er~joywent.* One other circumstance connected with agriculture will be x~oticed, both on account of the loud outcries which have been made against the measure, and on account of the beneficial effects it must have on the prosperity of Hayti. We refer to the confiscation and sale of the property of ox-colonists..--.. This act the planters have loaded with reproach, declaring that It was contrary to every law, divine or human, natural or conventional, and contrasting it with what this country did after its independence was acknowledged. Did not the wsirk before us furnish the evidence of it, we could not have believed in the existence of so absurd a claim. When the jjilanter~ have formally acknowledged the real independence of Hayti, and have relinquished their pretence to he restored to the rank of unlimited masters over men who are now free as themselves, they may then appeal to the noble conduct of the United States. The people of Hayti, observes do Vastey, are placed in a sit- uation altogether different. They were blacks and slaves, with- out country, without property, despoiled of their rights, natural, civil and political; they were what is called dead in law; they dwelt on the soil as if they dwelt not; they lived as if they lived not; the colonists possessed over them the barbarous right of life and death; without support or protection, treated like the vilest animals and abandoned by all~ nature, they have fought and shed torrents of blood to conquer for themselves a country, an asylum, life and freedom,..-..to vindicate their sacred and imprescriptible rights, which odious tyrants had once ravished from them and were endeavouring to ravish again! What relations of good-will and of magnanimity can exist between us and the ex-colonists ~ We were deprived of every thing, we possessed nothing, we were nothing, we were accounted nothing; but we have gained every thing from these vampire5, country, liberty, property and inde- pendence. We possess nothing which is not our own; we then owe thorn nothing, and we have nothing to give up or restore..- The laws on this head may be seen in the Code Henry, loi conceruant to culture, especially titles I and 4. From this remark, as well as from others we have made, the curious fact is apparent, that the blacks un- consciously established a pure feudal monarchy in Ilayti. The noblea were military men rewarded with tides and lands, for which specific ser- vices and rents were due; and the commoners were mostly undertenants on the lands of the nobility. I ffa~i. Clan. They were the first to put us out of the circle of social relations, and we may in return exclude them without scruple and with greater justice; they have incurred the same conditions which ~tbey desired to impose; if they had been victorious, we should have been killed or enslaved, we should have had nothing and demanded nothing; they have been vanquished and there is nothing for them to receive or demand Reflex. Pot. P. 49~ 51. No man of course but a colonist can seriously think the king of Hayti was under the least obligations to restore the lands of the planters, or eveii pay thetri an equivalent; since one expedient would have introduced the l)lanteIs into the heart of the country, and the second must have totally im- poverished the kingdom. The sequestration of this proper- ty has been of the greatest utility. The king made easy sales* and leases of the lands, and thus, by parcelling many of them out among small proprietors, gave his subjects the possessions as well as rank of freemen. Nothirg is ever more beneficial to a country, better calculated to give dura- bility to its institutions and more conducive to the general happiness of its iphabitants, than estates in the hands of small freeholders. We therefore find as much to praise in the use which the king made of these lands as in the act of seques- tration. We need not here repeat what we have said before on the moral degradation of the slaves under the colonial order of things. Suffice it now to inquire how far they have risen from that degradation, and what the late king did for the civilization of Hayti. Every successive government in the island has been deeply sensible of the state of abasement in which the nation was sunk, and has constantly endeavoured to redeem its subjects from that state by holding forth encour- agements to marry, and by patronising every thing which tended to produce a refinement of manners. The habit of military service has given the people a disposition for subordination and order, which the strictness of the public police has confirmed. Still it is to be confessed that the morals of the Haytians are lax, and must continue so till they can gradually recover~ from the baneful effects of servitude. Fifteen years were allowed for the discharge of the debt in yearly payments at the rate of the fourth of the gross annual produce of cotonne- rier, caf6teries, sucreriec, & c. and the twentieth of the first price of a house, until the whole demand is satisfied: the property itself being held as se. curity for the final payment of all the purchase.money. 1821.] Ha1fli. 129 Since the regeneration of Hayti the manners arid social habits of the people have been continually growing better, and we may hope that before long they will have wiped away all the disgraceful stains contracted in a life of bondage.. The noble exertions of the king were most instrumental in producing this effect. Military hospitals were erected by him and were well supported. Religioes service was regu- larly peiforwed in the capital, at which the court and most respectable people attended; but the king was so wise as to make no distinctions between different sects ; and catholi- Cism was known to be the religion of the government, only be.. cause it was generally professed by the court, and not through any pains or disabilities inflicted or even discountenance thrown upon protestants. An archbishop and three bishops, each with chapters, seminaries and colleges attached to his diocess, and a rector in every parish, costituted the eccle.. siastical establishment. The proprietors of plantations were obliged to have prayers read to the laborers every night; ant to invite them to attend the religious ser~icein the parish on the several festivals. The king created a board of edu.. cation consisting of some of his most patriotic and enlighten.. ed subjects, and entrusted it ~vith the direction of the national education, the choice of books and instructers, and every thing which regards this branch of public administration..~ Under the superintendence of this board colleges and na- tional schools were established, in which the professors and instructers were honorably paid by the government. National schools existed in all the principal cities, on that system of mutual instruction, which has been carried to so high a degree of perfection in England, and is gradually ad- vancing throughout Europe and America. in these schools children were instructed in the same manner and with the same success as among whites; their prohciency was respect- able in all departments and what is remarkable the children actually felt a sense of gratefulness towards their teachers and exhibited an alacrity in learning, which forcibly remind us of the pupils of Sicard at)d Leclerc. The artifices of the late colonists have been the cause of such serious evils to the peo~ pie of Hayti an(I the practice of them has been so much fa.. cilitated by the use of the French of language, that the king re- solved to exterminate it from his dominions. He ma(Ie suci) a choice of the language to be substituted as we should antici. ~New Series, J~. ~. 17 130 Hayti. Jan.] pate from his high character. He could not hesitate in adopt- ing that language, which now possesses a literature unrivalled by the proudest in ancient or modern times, which is making rapid strides to a diffusion almost universal, and which iw spokevi in the first instance by two nations of which one is the noblest in the old and the other the noblest in the new world. He coul(l not hesitate in adopting the language of ~that people, which has effected at least the partial abolition of the slave-trade, and which, however superannuated and op.. pressive in many of its institutions, is more liberal than either of its coteml)oraries on the continent of Europe. He could not hesitate in adopting the language of England. The lan- guage (if the hester classes in Hayti is pretty correct, at least as correct as was spoken in the island before the revolution; but the middle and lower classes speak ~ most corrupt and barbarous dialect, whose substance indeed is French, encum- ~bered by confused admixtures of English, Spanish and the native languages of the slaves from Africa. This jargon is always aided in conversation by numberless contortions and gestures, grimaces and interjections, and without them loses half its significanCy.* It can never be possible to convert The comedy of the count de Rosiers, contains many curious speci. mens of the creole dialect, some of which we subjoin with a collateral translation. Dinpis Valentin apres trott~ dans tdte a mo4 mo dire adieu sommeil, adieu repos, adieu toute laute qui chose dana monde Mais qui fete pour nous toutes. C~ jordi papa nous ~a riv6, tout monde va pr~sent~ Ii bouquet a ii, ma bali quienne a mo6 hon c~ur. Dire mo~ donc; io dire nous bon papa a flOUS va rive. Cd chantd comme gnoun ange; et pour la peine a tod, mo va rende tod ~a q motd prends tod. Mo ta vouded io deja passd, tant c~ur a mod td va content. Malgrd toute monde aprs craire mod ce gnouo bete, a cause mo pas gagod ~noun bouche qui douce, ni gnoun 1an~gue qu~ dorde, ~a pas em- pechd mo ~rouv6 dana tete a mod gnoun pitit compliment capabe, & c. Depuis que Valentin a trottd dana ma tete, je dis adieu sommeil, adieu repos, adieu toutes les autres choses dans le monde. Mais queue fete pour nous tous. Ce jour-ci notre papa va arriver, tout le monde va le presenter son bouquet, je lui don- nerai le mien avec bon crur. Dites-moi donc; us nous disent que notre bon papa va arriver. Cest chantd comme un ange, et pour votre peine je vous rendrai ce que jaurois pris de toi. Je voudrai quils avaient deja passd, autant mon c~ur en seroit content. Quoique tout le monde ait cru que jetois une bete, parceque je nai pas une bouche douce, ni une langue dorde, cela n empeche pas que je trouverois dana ma tete un petit coin. pliment capable, & c. ini4 Ha~1i. Is this into a perfectly correct languae,~e of any sort; but at the date of our intelligence instructers cor the national schools had been procured in England by the king of Hayti; a~d their scholars had made such considerable progress in their new language, that there was good reason to believe their efforts would finally succeed in giving it currency among ed- ucated people and of course making it the vernacular 14n- guage of the kiiigdom. Now we consider all this to be proof, which cannot be set aside or evaded, of the capacity of blacks for improvement; for however imperfect might be the national schools and col- leges, the mere establishment of such institutions indicated good sense in the PeOPle and when we look farther, and find these institutions in a considerable degree successful and gradually spreading themselves over the kingdom, we must be blinded with prejudice if we do not confess them to be tokens of approaching civilization in Hayti. Franklins and Wasbingtons indeed she may not yet have produced; et quand mf~me quo nous navons pas eu des Franklin et des Washington, says M. do Vastey, est-il raisonnable dexi- gor que des honimes qui ~taient courbds sons le poids do lignorance and de lesclavage, i~ qul m~me on refusait do lintellect, eussent tout4t-coup des Franklin et des Wash- ington? This is a fair representation of the language universally spoken by the lower classes in Hayti. We perceive here the difficulty the blacks found in pronouncing the letter ii, as instead of un and une they say gnoun. We perceive also for je and us the strange pronouns mo and io, which the slaves perhaps brought from their native land. They seem unable to sound the letters 1 and r well, as they say aute, rende, capabe for autre, rendre, capable. They likewise drop the adjective pronouns naon, TOe, notre, & c. making use instead of d moi, d voue. d nous They confound the genders, of course. But the most remdrkable thing is the conjugation of verbs, of which it appears they take some tense, true or corrupt, and modify that tense throughout by means of auxiliary prefixes or particles. Thus ua rivt means est a,rio6; no to voudi~6, je voudrai; jo dire, us dissent dire-mo6, dstez-moi, & c. Thus too in the verb avoir they say mo gagne, ii gagne, flOUS gagu4 ou gagn4 jo gagnet; mo apres gagn6; mo ua gagud; mo ts~ gagn~ nsteadjai, tu as, & c. ,javois or ,fai eu, jaurai, & c. It was by the same process that ancient verbs, in passing through the lips of bar- barians, became simplified of their terminal infiexions. Those who feel any curiosity with regard to this dialect may find a copious vocabulary ~nd several dialogues at the end of Ducceurjolis Manuel des Ifabitan~ dss St. .Domingue. Ilayti. [Jane With one in ore quotation we take our leave of M. de Vasley. We call to witness the strangers who frequent our ports, and have visited the interior of the kitgdom, whether we aie not con- stituted and organized like the civrlized nations of Europe. Have we riot a stable monarchy, a constitutionalcharter, institutions ano laws r Is not justice administered with integrity ? Our nu- merou~ and warlike armies, are they not as well disciplined u the first troops in the world ? Have we not erected impregnable fortresses according t~ all the rules of art, in places almost inac- cessible, whe. e obstacles were to be surmounted with labors wor~ thy rhe majesty of Rome? Have we not built palaces and public edifices, which do honor to our country and excite the applause of strangers ? have we not manufactories of powder and salt petre ? Is riot the mass of our population entirely devoted to corn- merce and agriculture? Has not our country, although still in its intancy, produced writers and poets to celebrate its name? In short, experience has proved to the world that we, as well as whites, had air aptitude for the sciences and arts, by the immense progress we have made in civilization. I~xamine the history of the huTnan race, and no where will you meet with such a prodigy. Let the foes of the blacks produce a single instance of a people~ which has been in a situation like ours, and which has done more in the short period of a quarter of a century. The people o~ Ilayti has not only acquired immortal rights to the admiration of the universe and of posterity, but it has acquired still more dis- tinguished glory by haiing raised itself from the depths of igno- rance and servitude to its present height of eminence and pros- peritv.~J1ejZex. Sur les .2Voirs et les Blanes, p. 83, 85. We should regret being mistaken for indiscriminate eulo- gists or even in any sense admirers of Hayti. She still bears the stigmas of her recent degradation. We know that her inhabitants have acquired but few of the virtues or comforts of refinement. her sanguinary civil wars, the jealous tem- per of her government, the licentiousness of her popular morals, we know and lament as badges of former servitude, which time alone can enable her to throw off, and as wounds in the public frame, which nothing but the benignant influences of prosperity long-continued can heal. The preceding remarks were chiefly written and ready for lie p;ess. wi)en intelligence arrived of the late revolution in flayti. We thought it necessary to make but few, and those for tIre most tart verbal, alterations in consequence; be- 1821. Ha gli. 133 cause the death of the king and subsequent changes in the government have not, as we conceive, in any wise im- paired the force of our arguments in support of the moral and I titelleetual character of negroes. The anonymous and indirect reports, which are now current with regard to the situation of aflairs in Hayti, accord so jittle with what we know to haie been the t~ict a year or two since, that ~ e think they ought to be received with caution, if not with suspicion. The dissolution of the monarchy, in conse- quence of the sickness, confinement, and death of the king, is no proof of the cruelty of his reign ; beeause, as we have seen, his authority grew entirely out of his personal charac- ter and was maintained solely by his personal exertions; and when his mind and body were weakened by disease it is not wonderful that his enemies in the south improved such a favourable ojiportunity for tampering with his troops and se- ducing them from their allegiance. Without making ally pretensions to political sagacity, we are fully persuaded that the royalists will never peaceably continue under the rule of their new masters. The total dif. ference in their past modes of life, of education, and of gov- ernment, is a powerful obstacle to the consolidation of the blacks and mulattoes under a republican chief; but a more insurmountable impediment is the hatred which the two casts have generally entertained for each other since the very be- ginning of their struggle for independence. We believe the blacks will have little reason to exult in their defection from the king, if they do not already lament it. The government of P~tion and of iBoyer, as ~vell as that of Henry, was always in its essence arbitrary. P& - tion, who was pardy educated in France, affected to imitate the revolutionary government of that country; bitt the presi- dent of the revolted colony, like the first consul of the me- tropolis, ~vas possessed of absolute power. And it is a matter of little moment to the subject whether the government, he lives under, is monarchical, that is, consisting of a single in- ohm dual at the head of the state and armies, or aristocratic al, that is, consisting of a single individual aided and con- troled by a council of his chief officers: the government is, in both cases, a pure military despotism. How far the la~ s and institutions of king Henry will be suffered to remain at Hayti, it does not yet appear; ~ut if 134 Haydens Geoiogical Essays. [JaIL the republican government should be permanently estabilsh~ ed throughout the island, we fear it will be the means of checking the internal improvement of the country: for the manners of the republicans have always been more lax than those of the royalists; they have been more insubordinate; they have had less experience of the salutary effect of sage and efficient laws; and above all they have appeared less anxious to diffuse the blessing of education by the liberal en- dowrnent of schools, colleges, and other seminaries of in, struction. Whatever may be the fate of the island, it must continue to be an object of increasing interest to the citizens of the United States. ART. VIT.~.Geological Essays; or an Inquiry into some of the Geotogical Phenomena to be found in various parts of Jimerica, and elsewhere. By Horace H. Hayden, Esquire. Baltimore, J. Robinson, Bvo. pp. 412. 1820. IN the department of natural history, and particularly in the interesting branches of geology and mineralogy, the researches of Americans, if we do not deceive ourselves, have been as profound, and their progress as honourable to the skill and diligence with which these researches have been made, as those of the students of any other country. The numerous and splendid private cabinets, which are to be found in almost every state in the union, disp!aying not less taste than labour in the selection arid arrangement, and the inti- mate acquaintance of their respective owners with the char- acters of the various specimens, will sufficiently attest the truth of our assertion. But, until within a few years past, each individual seemed content with the mere possession of this knowledge, without the desire of imparting it to others, or the ambition to be known to the world, as its possessor. The successful labours of Professors Cleaveland and Silli~ man, of Dr. Bruce, and a few others, have eminently tended, not only to diffuse a spirit of inquiry through our country, and to awaken a fondness for scientithic research, but above all to remove that timidity, which has been the chief obstacle to the publication of works of science on the part of our countrymen. The adoption of Professor Cleavelands ele- mentary treatise, by most of the mineralogical schools of

134 Haydens Geoiogical Essays. [JaIL the republican government should be permanently estabilsh~ ed throughout the island, we fear it will be the means of checking the internal improvement of the country: for the manners of the republicans have always been more lax than those of the royalists; they have been more insubordinate; they have had less experience of the salutary effect of sage and efficient laws; and above all they have appeared less anxious to diffuse the blessing of education by the liberal en- dowrnent of schools, colleges, and other seminaries of in, struction. Whatever may be the fate of the island, it must continue to be an object of increasing interest to the citizens of the United States. ART. VIT.~.Geological Essays; or an Inquiry into some of the Geotogical Phenomena to be found in various parts of Jimerica, and elsewhere. By Horace H. Hayden, Esquire. Baltimore, J. Robinson, Bvo. pp. 412. 1820. IN the department of natural history, and particularly in the interesting branches of geology and mineralogy, the researches of Americans, if we do not deceive ourselves, have been as profound, and their progress as honourable to the skill and diligence with which these researches have been made, as those of the students of any other country. The numerous and splendid private cabinets, which are to be found in almost every state in the union, disp!aying not less taste than labour in the selection arid arrangement, and the inti- mate acquaintance of their respective owners with the char- acters of the various specimens, will sufficiently attest the truth of our assertion. But, until within a few years past, each individual seemed content with the mere possession of this knowledge, without the desire of imparting it to others, or the ambition to be known to the world, as its possessor. The successful labours of Professors Cleaveland and Silli~ man, of Dr. Bruce, and a few others, have eminently tended, not only to diffuse a spirit of inquiry through our country, and to awaken a fondness for scientithic research, but above all to remove that timidity, which has been the chief obstacle to the publication of works of science on the part of our countrymen. The adoption of Professor Cleavelands ele- mentary treatise, by most of the mineralogical schools of 1821.] Ji~tjdens Geological Essays. Germany, where the votaries of natural science have been always numerous and ardent, has been not more honourable to the author, than it will prove, we trust, advantageous to his couiitryineii. It is at once the noblest reward -that he could have received, and the strongest incitement which could have beei~ offered to them. They need no longer with- hold from the public the results of their researches, under the fear that they can disclose nothing new. The sttl(ly of ria~ ture can never be exhausted: the various aspects, under which it presents itself, in various countries, and at various times, must always offer to the accurate observer, at every new cx. amination, some fact, some phenomenon, not before known; and this must always give to the naturalists of this ne~v world a claim to the respect of those of the old. We are anxious to enforce this truth upon our countrymen, and we repeat, that they have a right to claim a higher rank among the philosophers of the earth, than they have been, hitherto, content to hold. It has beeti very justly observed by Cuvier, that ~he ancient history of the globe is one of the most curious subjects that can engage the attention of enlightened men. But it may he doubted, ~vhether, were it even possible to rend the veil which conceals from our view the mechanism of the universe, the human race would gain any thing by the discovery, more than the mere gratification of curiosity. We may ad- mire the genius and the boldness of those who attempt to scan the mysterious operations of Supreme Intelligence, and to explain any phenomenon of nature, by the rules of human pl~ilisophy; but we shall at last be compelled to acknowledge, that the most ingenious theory of creation is but a theory, and liable to be contradicted by facts as powerful as any which are urged in its support. Nor is it necessary to our happiness, to know how the earth we inhabit was formed: whether created as we see it, or changed by subsequent rev- olutions, or whether these revolutions were produced by intes- tine fires, or external floods. It is enough for us, to endeav- our to become aCquainte(l with the materials that compose it, their relative positions, and the laws by which they are res- pectively governed. From the prosecution of this study, we not only derive amusement and delight, but acquire a knowl- edge that may be rendered subservient to the purposes of life. It is an err& r to suppose, that a knowledge of the 136 Haydens Geological Essays. ~Jan. antediluvian earth, is necessary to our understanding the relations of its present constituent parts. The first. reason as we may, is founded on, and supported throughout by con- jecture.. The last we acquire by actual experiment and rej)eat- ed observation. We become acquainted, in fact, with the various properties of minerals, and their relative 1)ositiolis in the earth, before we attempt to speculate upon the priority or posteriority of their formation; arid thus we gain all the practical advantages to be expected from geological science, without concerning ourselves about the fancied connexiol between it and the cosmogony of visionary theorists. The author of the work before us, seems to have been fully aware of these truths; and with the exception of a slight hint at the inadmissibility of either of the two great theories, he leaves the original structure of the globe to bolder inqui- rers. In tracing up in their due order, says our author, all the diflerent formations, and contemplating the varied fea- tures that are p6resentedio view, we cannot hesitate long in saying, that great and important changes have been wrought, in and upon its surface, long since the completion of this globe; consequently they are unconnected, and can have no relation with its original formation. To account for some of these changes, is the limited object of Mr. Haydens pres- ent inquiry. Those ~vhich have chiefly occupied his atten- tion, are, 1st, the great allwviat district which skirts the, Atlan- tic ocean from the eastern extremity of Maine, to the south- em shore of the bay of Mexico; 2d, the formation of Deltas, and 3d, the degradation, or diminution in the height and bulk of mountains, by the disintegration or decomposition of rocks. With regard to the first, no naturalist can travel over the North American continent, and fail to observe this striking arid peculiar feature in its geology. It has consequently been the subject of much discussion, and of many contradictory opinions; hut nothing more than confined and partial ac- counts of some of its most extraordinary appearances, have ever before been attempted. The most generally received ol)inion ~vith respect to this alluvial district is, that it has been formed by the retrocession of the sea; many geologists, how- ever, have maintained, that it has been gradually produced by alluvious depositions at the mouths of the great rivers xvhich empty themselves into the sea. Mr. Hayden con- 18~l.] ITa~dens Geological Essa!,s. 137 tends, that neither of these causes is adequate to the pro~ duction of such an effect, or to account for various appear- ances, which an examination of the district presents. Re- jecting both opinions, therefore, and confining himself to a close investigalion of facts, he supposes that the strongest evidence is afforded, of a general current having prevailed over the whole of this continent, and that it flowed from tite ,zort h-east to the south-west. To the operations oC this cur- rent is ascribed the formation of the alluvial district. We shall endeavour, in the first place, to lay before our readers some of the principal arguments of our author in support of thes~ two propositions, and, in the next place, show his view of t~ e probable causes of the current. 1. Deposites of fossil wood, and animal remains, are found at and below low water, throughout the ~vhole of this region, which it is e~ ident was once occupied by the sea, because it is formed upon a sea bottom, or mud, containing marine shells; and because the remains of sharks and whales are found mixed with those of land animals, not in a petrified state, as in secondary formations, but as in alluvious (leposites. 2. immense quantities of rolled pebbles of primiti~ve forma- tion are found in the same region, in situations where no other primitive formations exist. Their being found south of the primitive district is a proof, that the current must have flowed from the north. ~. The alluvial region increases in breadth, in the same prol)ortion as the country, over which it is supposed to have flowed, increases in breadth. 4. The high northern regions are, for the most part, desti- tute of soil, presenting little else but naked, barren rocks. That these rocks were once covered by soil and vegetation, is inferred from the remains of plants and animals, peculiar to the region, being found among the (leposites to the south. 5. Rocks of enormous size are found deposited in this alluvial region. at a considerable distance south of the primitive formations. Rocks of the same kind are found en place in abundance, to the north; whereas imone of the kind are found south, nearer than beyond the sea. 6. And lastly. The bottom of the ocean, in general, at the depth of seventy fathoms, is found to consist of little more than pure mud: the alluvial region, and the sea-shore are of ~New Series, .JVo. 5. 138 Haydens Geological Essays. ~Jan. sand, or pure grains of quartz; this region, therefore, has not been produced by the washings of the sea. These are facts, which must have fallen under the notice of all, who have taken the trouble to examine the alluvial dis- trict alfrng the Atlantic coast; and we regret, that the author should have thought it necssary to produce so much testi- inony in support of his own affirmation of their existence. The mass of evidence which he has crowded into this part of his work, from other writers, and which, we are convinced, he did rather from a (liffidence of his own authority, than from any desire to make a vain display of his reading, an- swers no other purpose than to obscure the sense of the wri- ter, and to exercise, rather too severely, the patience o~he reader. In wading through long quotations to prove the ex- istence of a solitary fact, to which the authors simple asser- tion would have gained sufficient credit, the reader is apt to lose sight of the hypothesis, which this fact is intended to elucidate. But,, we repeat, it is too manifest, that this fault has its origin in a laudable design, to deserve much harshness of censure. This idea of a general current, so far as it regards its course over this continent, is, we believe, entirely new. Mr. Kirwan, in his attempt to explain the phenomena of the del- uge, and to vindicate the Mosaic account of this catastrophe, supposes that the great southern ocean contained sufficient water, in addition to the forty days rain, to inundate the whole earth; and that from this source proceeded, towards the north, that rush of waters which overwhelmed the globe. But ad- mitting the plausibility of this hypothesis, it does not account for the current, from north to south, over this continent, nor (loes Mr. Hayden suppose that this current necessarily made a part of the general deluge spoken of by Moses~ Taking for granted the possibility (proofs of any theory would be out of the ~juestion) of St. Pierres notion, that the sun may have deviated from the ecliptic, at some period of the world, and have passed over the poles, he assumes as a natural conse- quence the dissolution of the polar ices. St. Pierre is not the only philosopher who has maintained, that the axis of the earth has been changed. The opinion, indeed, is now become general; for upon no other hypothesis can numerous natural phenomena be explained. Allowing our author, then, to as- sume the position, let us see how he contrives to make the 1821.] liMjdens Geological EssaVs. 189 melting of the ice at the north pole, a sufficient cause of the effects he has described. From this pole, there are b~ two outlets; the one into the Pa- cific ocean, through the comparatively narrow channel at Bherings straits; the other through an immense channel into the Atlantic ocean, between the coast of Greenland, and North cape on the northern coast of Lapland. These two outlets are situated almost diametrically opposite to each other on the two sides of the globe: and whethei the sun passed through the meridian of the Atlantic ocean and South sea, as is pretended, or upon a meridian passing through the continent of North and South America, and Asia, is immaterial in the present view, since by far the greatest propor- tion of the waters must have been thrown into the Atlantic ocean. No sooner was this operation established, and this accession of strength and power thrown into the Atlantic ocean in particular, than its tide began to rise above its common limits, accompanied by a consequent current, both constantly increasing, the one in height, the other in rapidity, proportioned to the jncrease of power at the focus. These, following the natural course of the Atlantic, soon swelled its waters above the shore of the adjacent continents, over which they began to flow in riotous disorder. At the commencement of this frightful (Irama, it is highly probe able that the current, issuing from the pole, was divided by the crag~ gy heights of Spitsbergen, and a part thrown into the White sea; while the other, directing its force a~inst the inhospitable shores of Lapland, and the rocky cliffs of Sweden and Norway, was thrown back upon the eastern and southern coast of Greenland; from thence in a south-western direction, until it struck the south- eastern coast of Labrador, along which it swept, through the straits of Belle Isle, across Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, and along the Atlantic coast into the gulf of Mexico. The rapid dissolution of the ices at the pole constantly progressing, and as constant!,y increasing the rapidity of the current and quantity of water in the ocean, it continued to rise in awful majesty, and threaten uni- versal destruction by its resistless force, sweeping across the neighbouring continents. A cursory view, or even a glance at the subject, will enable us to form an idea of the operations that must naturally have occur- re(l, from this new order of things. The current, bursting through each avenue, swept in its course every yielding substance. In a short space of time, the southern and eastern coast of Labrador, over which this current was urged with increasing force, was des- olated. Ihe soil, which before had fertilized this rocky coast, was hurled adrift, and mingling with the water, was carried across 140 haydens Geologicat Essays. [Jan. the country into the gulf of St. Lawrence, and across a part of New England into the sea, or general current of the ocean. The waters continuing to ris~ soon inundated the frozen re- gions of Iceland and Greenland, tid urging on their precipitous course, swept across Davis straits, and rolled their tumultuous surges into Hudsons bay, embracing the whole coast of Labrador, while the unequal current ot the St. Lawrence was forced back and upwards to its parent source. If we admit the dissolution of the ice at the north pole, from whatever cause, we may readil~ admit the whole of the consequences so minutely marked out by Mr. Hayden. But his theory does not suppose an entire dissolution: on the con trary, enormous masses of ice, enclosing huge blocks of gra- nite, must have been torn from their bed by the first ioience of the current, and hurled in their solid state, to the regions where this granite is now found, out of place. We confess we cannot understand the necessity of this conclusion. Why is it supposed, that the force of the current was not, in itself, sufficient to transport these masses of granite, without the en- velope of ice? For, according to our authors own showing, in many places in Baltimore county and elsewhere, during the dreadful fall of rain which was experienced, in almost every part of the United States, in July 1817, veins of gra- nite of many tons weight were hurried down the streams a quarter of a mile or more, an(l that almost on a perfect level. iNow the streams in the neighbourhood of Baltimore are all small, and the force of their currents, compared to that which must have swept over the continent by the melting of the polar ices, may be regarded as one to a million; it appears therefore unnecessary to look frr any floating medium, to ac- count for the transportation from the north of the large blocks of granite, which are found on the alluvial soil of Ohio, Ken- tucky. and Alabama. Admitting that these rocks were really brought from distant beds and deposited where they now are, we should regard it as a matter of little importance how they ~vere brought, did not Mr. Hayden seem to lay some stress upon the circumstance of their being enveloped in enormous masses of ice, to prove that they came from the north: for it would be absurd in the extreme, says he, to suppose that masses of ice could have been found in the torrid zone, or even within the temperate zone, of sufficient magnitude to have transported those rocks from the south to their present 18~l.3 .ilaydens Geological Essays. 141 situations. There seems, besides, to be no little difficulty in the natural inquiries of how, where, and at what period, these rocks were enveloped in the ice? V~ ere they originally t~rmed within the arctic ircie? If so, they must have rested upon some solid foundation; and unless we suppose the ice also to have been an original or primitive formation, that must have been formed upon their surface. The ice would necessarily begin to melt from the surface, and the water would continue to run oil as the dissolution took place, until the rocks were left bare, or until a liquid ocean only surmounted them. Or if, as frequently happens9 large blocks of ice, by whatever cause, should be (letached from their bed, and precipitate with them in their fall harts of the rock upon which they rested, the parts so separated, not being enveloped in the ice, would remain upon the spot where they fell, unless urged on by the force of a powerful current a tergo. But as the supposed cur- rent is produced by the melting of the ice within the circle, its power would be inadequate to such an effect, until arrived at sonic distance from its source. There being no force, then, within the space which gave origin to the current, sufficient to propel the rocks thence to the situations in which they are now found, we must suppose that they were not brought from the Arctic region. It is by no means necessary to adopt the reverse of this proposition, and suppose that they came from the south. An immense, unexplored territory intervenes between the commencement of the alluvial district, on this continent, and the frozen re- gions. The power of an impetuous torrent sweeping over this territory, would be amply sufficient to detach enormous rocks from their primitive beds, and lodge them in distant regions. If masses of ice had any agency in their transporta- tion it must have been by their power of propulsion, and not by serving as a medium in which they could float down the current. Another objection to the idea of the rocks being enveloped in ice, and thus lodged ~ here they are now found, is, that if they had floated with the ice, they would be found much farther south than the latitude of 390 or 4O~, which, our author says, is about the latitude in which those rocks lie. For we can hardly agree with him, that, because the huge lields and mountains of ice, which every spring float down the Atlantic ocean, by the time they reach the latitude nwntioned, become so weak and rotten as to be 142 Haydens Geological Essays. [Jan. incapable of supporting or retaining any considerable weight that might be attached to them; therefore, the same thins would occur with the masses of ice, which are supposed to have floated down the current. There certainly can be no comparison between the rapidity of this temporary turrent, and the uniform motion of the Atlantic ocean. A mass of ice woul(l he carried, through the same temperature, to a much greater distance, before it became weak and rotten, down a precil)itous current, than ~vhen slowly wahed upon the bosoul of a gentle tzde; and if by the force of the latter, it yearly reaches the latitude of 40w, we may readily believe it might have been carried to 200 or 150 by the former. rube argument against the possibility of the alluvial dis rict having been formed by deposites from the rivers or the sea, is ingenious and i~iell managed. The author very justly argues, that if this district had been produced by the annual overflowing of the rivers, vegetable remains, an(l fossil shells, woul(l be found in every stratum, or layer of earth. beb cen the surface, and the depth at which only they are now found. This depth varies, in various parts of the alluvial region; but ~vhether at twenty or at forty feet, no instance has occur- red of these depo~ites, in the intermediate strata. The in.. f~rence, therefore, seems to be irresistible, that, whatever may have been the cause that buried these remains in their present beds, it operated singly and simultaneously through- out the whole of the region called alluvial. The next subject treated by the author is the formation of Ddtas.The general, and we believe, indeed, the only opin- ion, which has been hitherto advanced upon this question, is that they are the exclusive production of the aliuvzon period~ ically brought down by the rivers, and deposited at their mouths. If this opinion were correct, Mr. Hayden very sa- gaciously infers, that deltas would be formed at the moutha of all the capital rivers, at least of all those which bring down an equal quantity of matter of alluvion, with the rivers at whose mouths deltas are formed. But this is found not to be the fact. All capital rivers do not form deltas, even when they bring down the matter of alluvion in considerable quan- tities. Hence the author concludes, that their formation is not the natural result of the deposition, brought down by their currents, but rather of a combination of causes, ~vhich he thus enumerates, viz~ 1st. The alluvion of the river. 1821.] I,dens GeOLOgiCaZ Jata~Is.. 145 2d. That produced by the winds, and~Sdly, That occasion- ed directly or indirectly by the Labours of man. The prin- cipal argument upon which the author rests the establishment or this hypothesis, is drawn from the appearances at the ITh)uth of the Po, and the present situation of the city of Adria. This city, according to the accounts of the best historians, was formerly situated on the edge of the coast, from which it is now distant more than fifteen miles. But in the twelfth century, before which nothing precise, says M. de Prony, is known respecting the situation of the shores of the Adriatic, at the mouths of the Pu, the distance of the city from the same coast was but little more than six miles. At this period Mr. Hayden supposes that the city of Adria had been founded for more than three thousand years, making the annual average increase of the delta about ten feet and a half. But to give to our readers a favourable specimen of the authors style and manner, we copy the argument in his own words. Let us now examine the rapid increase of the delta at th~ Po, from the end of the twelfth century to that of the sixteenth, and so on, to see the proportion which the gain of the latter bears t~ the former, iii order to determine whether it has been produced by the alluvion brought down by the current of the river. The northern mouth, which had usurped the situation of the Mazzarno canal, becoming the Ramo di Tramontana, had advanced in the year 1600, to the distance of twenty thousand metres [some- thing more than twelve miles] from the meridian of Adria; and the southern mouth, which had taken possession of the canal of Toy~ was then seventeen thousand metres (or eighteen thousand five hundred and ninety-one yards) advanced beyond the same point. Thus the shore had become extended, nine or ten thousand metres (or ten thousand nine hundred thirty-six yards,) to the north, afl(l six or seven thousand, to the south. Between these two mouths there was formerly a bay, or part of the coast less ad- vanced than the rest, called Sacca di Goro. During the same period of four hundred years, previous to the commencement of the i7th century, the great and extensive enibankments of the To were constructed; and also, during the same period, the southern slopes of the Alps began to be cultivated. From this it appears, thatth e extension of the delta at the P~ had increased, in the space of about four hundred years, nearly eight thousand yards; a distance nearly equal to eight tenths of what it had gained, during the whole period, from the founding of the city of Adria, to the twelfth century: an enormous~ dispro~ 144 Ha!,dens 6~eological Essa~js. JJan. portion, as must be adKnitted on all hands. But let us examine the subject a little further, in order to comprehend the full extent of this rapid increase. The author here quotes a passage from Cuvier, to show that the delta has gained upon the Adriatic, in the last two hundred years, about eight miles and a half; and then pro~ ceeds, almost twice as much as it had gained in the preceding four hundred years, from the end of the twelfth to that of the sixteenth century, arid more, (in proportion as eight is to six,) than it had gained from the tounding of the city of Adria, to the twelfth century, a period, probably, of about three thous- and years. To what shall we attribute this surprising difference, this amazing disproportion? Not, certainly, to the alluvion brought down by the current of the river Po. If its waters had been ren- dered turbid with mud or alluvion, from one end of the year to the other, for the space oF two hundred years, which is a case un- heard of or unknown~ we could scarcely believe, that it would af- ford a sufficient quantity to produce that difference; for it must be recollected, that as the delta advances into the Adriatic, or any other sea, the depth of the water is very much increased, and particularly, when we advance to the distance of twenty-one ~niles from the shore; at least, it is so in most seas. The author allows some weight to M. de Peonys opinion, that this increase has been produced by the cutti~vation ot the districts bordering on the Po, which prepared the soil to be carried off with greater facility, by the mountain torrents, flowing into the river. But the soil carried down by the tor- rents alone, he regards as insufficient to account for the in.. crease. Cultivation prepares the soil to be acted upon also by winds; the phenomena accompanying the operations of which, he considers as similar to those attending the opera- tions of currents of waters. If the winds rush, in unsteady and violent gusts, over the land, no matter from what quarter or point of the compass, not only the dust but even the sand is hurled into the air with the same facility as by a current of water, and wafted in clouds over the land~ varying on its course, until meeting with some obstruc- tio~s by which its current is slackened, it immediately (lepOSitS its alluvion, (for it is nearly the same thing) to the leeward of whatever object may interrupt its course. Haydens Geological Essays. 145 But there is another phenomenon attending the operation of winds, which the author thinks worthy of notice It is, that when a river running through a country [where else coulil it run ?] is confined for any considerable distance from its influx into the sea or bay, between high ridges of hills, or banks, there is a current of wind rushing down its course, difl~rin; one or two points t~om the general course of the wind that may be pre- vailing at the time, or blowing in nearly a corresponding direc- tion [By which, as will be seen, is meant an opposite direc- tionj Thus if a river runs in a southerly direction, and the wind is blowing fresh from the north-east, and raising the dust and sand in its course, when it meets with the current of air flowing down the river, under the circumstances which [have mentioned, the same phenomenon may be observed, as when the rapid cursents ~f two rivers unite ; the sand and dust are whirled round in the m~t confused manuer, and at last let fall upon the shore, and in the water~ wnere, if the tide is settIng towards the shore, the sand will be again thrown upon the beach. 1-lence it is. that we often see narrow prtt~ecting~ p(Wiflt5 01 sand at the mouths of rivers running through a ~aiidy country. The iii~rease of alluvion from this cause, may be thought to be very small indeed; and as hearing no comparison with that brought down by the current of rivers; but it must be considered, that a recurrence of this cause may happen every week, or con- tinue for a week. Whereas, rivers seldom bring down much al- luvion, except during the heavy autumnal rains, or the melting of the snows in the spi ing, which rarely occur more than twice in the year. The third cause hi the combination that produces the for- mation of deltas, is the agency of man. This may operate either directly, by dyking, filling up, & c. or indirectly, by the accumulation of filth and olTh.l from a city, which, wm~eii it is a large and populous one, amounts, In the course of a few hundred years, to an inconceivable quantity. It Would be difficult to assign limits to the effects which might be produced, directly and indirectly, by the laboucs of man. If it be granted to the author, in the first instance, (and the tes- timony of historians is undoubtedly in his favour) that there was no appearance of a ilelta, at the mouth of the Po, until after the building of the city of Adria; and that its subse- quent increase was in prol)ortion to the probable increase of population, and the consequent increase of labour; the jus .New Series, .JVo. ~5. 19 146 Haydens Geological Essays. [Jan. tice of his conclusion cannot be denied. Indeed, as the author says, if we examine attentively the nature of these causes, we shall not hesitate in ackno~vledging that they are amply sufficient to effect all the changes which have been observed, on this part of the Adriatic coast. With regard to the deltas of the Indus and the Ganges, Mr. Hayden says, neither the alluvion brought down by these livers, nor the labours of man, can be considered in any other light, than as having contributed, in part, to their formation and extension. Another more powerful auxilia- ary presents itself (says he) as having aflhrded its constant aid, in the accomplishment of this great work, I mean the great and extensive deserts in the neighbourhood of these rivers. If we take into view, he continues, the situation of these bar.. ren deserts, rendered still more sterile by the intensity of a ver~ tical sun, that blasts every effort of vegetation upon these oceans of sand; and their exposure to the violence of the eastern Mon. Soons, which are, for more than half the year, sweeping over these heated wastes, and raising the sand in clouds, and bearing it across the gulf ofi Scindy, and the mouth of the Indus, need we question the sources from which the materials were derived to form these deltas? The author has devoted a separate and entire chapter to the examination of the delta of the Nile, though the greater part of his reasoning upon it might with equal justice have been apl)lied to the formation of deltas in general. His proofs, we think, are abundantly satisfactory, that it is not formed by the alluvion of the river; and the many well authenticated accounts of the desolating effects of the operation of the Winds, upon the sandy deserts in its immediate neighborhood, ~vi1l go far to show, that he has not attributed more to this cause, than it is capable of producing. One of the strongest arguments in favour of the supposed agency of the winds, in forming of this remarkable delta, is that the ancient channel of the Nile, at the foot of the Lybian range of hills, is now entirely filled up; a circumstance which cannot be attributed to the alluvion of the river, because its course being purpose- ly changed by the erection of a strong mound, its waters could have little orno access to it; for, says the author, had the waters been suffered to flow through, or over that mound, in any degree, it ~vould ultimately have made a breach through r8~1.3 IIa~d2n8 t7eologwal Essa!,s. 147 it, and defeated every purpose that was intended. Theinfer~ ence therefore is, that tbis ancient channel, which stretches along from south to north, on the-very borders of-the deserts, and exposed to every blast that sweeps ~over their surfaces~ has been filled up by the sands, brought by the winds and do.. posited in its bed. The lake Mareotis has been in 111w m~n- ner filled up, nearly to the level of-the country, according t~ Mr. Rennell. If the sands have done so much, why may we not ascribe to the same cause, at least in great part, the ele.. vatio# and extension of the plains of Egypt? This isthe amount of Mr. Haydens reasoning upon the subject, which is, to say the least~ ofit, as philosophical as that of any of his antagonists. The formation of the delta of the Mississippi, the author attributes principally t~ the action of the general cwrent be- fore spoken of. We have not leisure to follow him through his argumenta. -u~ ~ppor4 of this. ~pinion; if Lhey are not always convincing, it cannot be denied that they are in~pieus and novel; and if we do not always agree with him in hi. Inferences, we are compelled toacknowkdgethat -he assumes no unwarrantable premises. We cannot, however, very elear~ ly comprehend the nature of those -evils,-which he seems so seriously to deprecate, as likely to arise from the increase and extension of- 4eltaa, in the neighbourhood of~thjs riyer. It seems to be the opinion of th~ author,. that the alhwioa deposited by the river, at the moment it meets with the resis~. tance of the ti(Ie of the sea, into which it flows, will ul1imate- ly become an insurmountable barrier; and that th~ current, thus checked in its ~a4vance~ will be thrown back upon the country, and destroy it, either by the-immediate effects of the inundation, or by the formation of lakes and pools, whi9h, whemWt to stagnate, will become sources of miasinata, ~a4 consequently of deadly disease. Mr. Darby, in his g~o- graphical account ot~ Louisiana, expresses the same fear, ar~d the inhabitants themselves are not without apprehension of some dreadful catastrophe, ;t a future day. hut, as theu~ seems to be no evidence, that the Mississippi has ever cltang~4 its ~arse; and as, therefore, - we may conclude that it has flowed through its preseiit channel, ever since the.siibs$4ence of the waters of the general deluge, that is, for in~re than three thousand years, and that it has literally forced its way in defitnee of the waters~of the gulf and the-tid~s of the sea, Id~aySe~* Geo1~gica~ ~ [JaR. we may, reasonably ~ tMt th~ 4r~.de& ~vi1 o( a cke~k ,~ufficiesit to stnp Its c~a~r~nt atid .tI~rpw tt bs~k upon itself, ia~ i,f not altogethei cb4uwri%~al,at least too rernote:to.justify thq ~1arm of the preaen~ gene~Pati(w. Tb~ third sabjeet of atar authon, is the dectnnpo.zt.on of rocka. Upon tbi~, as upon the two pubjects just treated of, lie entertains an. opinion, at varian~o with the doctrine of post ~geologists, but cevtain1~ I~ore consiatent wIth establish,. ed fa~~ts, qnd mnro consonoot to the suggestions of eeundrea, eon. He does, not deny, that roek* are liabio to deoniposi. tion; but he conten4s, and we think aburniautly proves, that it is not 5~prQc~5?fio general and so rapid as many~ein~dia~ posed to believe. Among rnaiiy~other ingenious arguments, toshow the absurdity of the generally received~ opinion, we pelect one, which is in itself enough to decide the juestior*. Whe a~ent~ of 4e~oinpositioi,, -necensariLy aeting Aapon 4ho ;prfaces of rocks, would first seize upon the prominent point ,nd angles, and show their effects, by reduci~ig these to a ~oun4ed ~ Thia ts4bo ~isiversal effect ~ ti*ap. pl$cation of the principal agents of their decomposition, w ~iore prop~rly tlniw 4n~t~grat.oo, ~l pe,;altep#,ate beat ~nd ed~ moisture and dryness; and the process of. the qpev. ~& ion is toq obviqns to requir xpiaMtjos,~ T thea, heh~ the fact, and r~ek~ bslng almost urai~ersally fiuund to retain ~U their points and ang1e~, it follows that the process ~s~om~ position has not commenced, or that it is too slow to at& th.,~. i~e the prevalent opi ii, th~t~ ~heg.os$est part of th~ sub. p#~nces which conMitute most soils proceed from the 4lecom sitio#,.~of the rockssuviounding orlying under them. Tha whole chapter upon this subject is well worthy the atten*ion of jhose visionary theorists ~ho seem more iw~lined to creat0 worlds ~f their own~ than patiently to examine the phenome,~ ~a of .that~ in which they are placed. ~Iaving.thus laid before our readers a view of theprit~ cipal subjects treated of by Mr. lilayden, it remains ..lyti~ speak of the manner in which hi~ .work has b~n oxecuted~ ~ud here we cannot help regretting, that literaturea,,d,c~noe ~o not always, maintain that close connexion, wlii~h woul4 ensure the mutual esteem and. vOnerati~n%~f their respective ~otaries. The styla of this. vohinie wiji deter many going through it, who would wiLlingly subscribe to the high claims of the autbnr, aa a profound philosopbe~. it will be 1a2~] ~& 1~dens ~*eoLogied ESSG1JS~ 149 men at once, that Mr. Hayden has been more accustomed to thiuk deeply, than to express his thoughts; and that he has paid much more attention to the uses, than-to the graces ot composition. This is not the first time that his na?no has been before the public, in Professor Cleavelands admirabh~ work on mineralogy, wo find it of frequent recurrence; and this circumstance alone is a passport to our notice. But no. one who reads these essays, freed from the trammels of fag.. tidious criticism, will need to be told, that their author merita his respect: whether he had ever heard of him before or not, lie would be ready to ackuowledge the honour of his ac.i quaintance, after a candid consideration of his claims. Mr. Haydens defective style, however, much as it might be censured, i~ not the greatest fault of his work. it exhibita a want of method and arra*ge~ent, akigelhetlnadinissible in a work of science. The chapters, into which it is divided, are without heading; and the divisions are made, in several instaiteen, in the middle of-an argument, wher6the sense wotild hardly call for a separate paragraph. The chapters from si~ to eleven, inch.sWe, shoidd-either have been embodied in the first, or have been added as an appendix, since the reader is compelled ~to ~refer~ to them, before he can understand the mode of reasoning adopted in the first. The dift~rent sub.. ~cts- are mingled ~togeth.er without order, and the necessary consequence is, that the same arguments are freq~uently re. peated. ~We have before expressed our disapprobation of the very free use he has made of quotations from other writers. They make up, indi~ed,so mitch of the book, that the purhaser may have just cause of complaint, that he has been made to pay~ for what was already his own. Nor is he always correct, in his references to the authors of these many quotations. He sometimes gives credit to Mr. Rennell, for the opiwions of Herodotus,-and to Cuvier, for the sentiments of M. N Prony. But this has undoubtedly arisen from inadvertence, as it is evi~ 4e~ntMr.Hayden has-studied his subject with too much-attention, not-to be acquainted with the opinions of all the writers of note, who have touched upon it. Upon the whole, we-are disposeil to we.t~rd the Geological Essays as well deserving an at.~ tentive perusal. We would especially recommend the selec.. tioft of queries embraced in the Agenda, to the notice of evnry~ scientific traveller, and man of leisure. Bail4is JIiStonJl!f .& *tronomtj. 150 fian. ART. VIILHistoire de Ldlstronomie a*eien,~e et moderiiepe .1. S. BaWy, dans~laq~sdleon a conseiv.~ litl6ralaneRt Ia texic historique de L./Iufrur, en suprima#t les details scent~flq~ies, lee calcuts abstraits, lee notes hypot1u~tiques, peu utites di)eauco~qi de Lecteurs, ci aux EI#)xes vsuxquels ce Lrcre est sp& ~ialemetzt destint~. ~ vols. Bye. pp. 866. A Paris, Chez Bernard,- 1g05. ASTBOI~t0MY is certainly the boldest and most; cot~iprehen~ sive of all our speculations. ft is the science of the material universe considered as a whole. Though~employed upon object& apparently withdrawn from th~ sphere of human action and~ pursuit, it teaches us, nevertheless, that these objects mate. rially aff& ~t, nay constitute, our physical condition. rjhe wide-spreading firmament, while it lifts itself above all mortal things, exhibits to us th~it h.minary, which is the light, and life, and glory of our world, and when this retiriu* from e~r view, is lighted up with a thousand lesser fires, that never: cease to burn, that never fail to take their accustomed places, ~nd never rest from their slew, solemn, and noiseless mareli Among the objects more immediately aboutus all is icissitud~ and change. It is the 4es~iijiy of t%ertostpial things -toperpet..~ nate themselves by succession. Plants arise out of the ear~tl~, flourish awbile and decay, and their place is filled by others; Animals also have their periods of growth and decline6 Even. man is not exempt from the general law. His exquisitefraa~, with all its fine organs, is soon reduced to its original eJ~ nients, to be mouWeil again into new and humbler thrins. Nations are like individuals, privileged only with a more protracted existence. The firm earth itself, the theatre qf all this change, partakes in a degree of the commoit lot ~f Its inhabitants, and the sea once- heaved its waves where now rolls a tide of wealth -and population. Situated as we are, in this fleeting, fluctuating state, it is consoling to be ahlet& dwell upon an enduring scene, to contemplate la-wsthaVa~ immutable, an order that has never been interrulA~l,~o fi~ not the thoughts only, but the eye, upon objects that aOer the lapse of so many ages, and the faIl of so many statea, cities, human fllstituti4ns, an(l monuments of art, continue to occupy, the same places, to move with the. same regularity, and Zo shine wit1~ the same pure, fresh, undiminislwd lustre. As the heavens are the most striking spectiwle that preaeti1~ itself to our contemplation, so there is no subject of pldI~

Bail4is JIiStonJl!f .& *tronomtj. 150 fian. ART. VIILHistoire de Ldlstronomie a*eien,~e et moderiiepe .1. S. BaWy, dans~laq~sdleon a conseiv.~ litl6ralaneRt Ia texic historique de L./Iufrur, en suprima#t les details scent~flq~ies, lee calcuts abstraits, lee notes hypot1u~tiques, peu utites di)eauco~qi de Lecteurs, ci aux EI#)xes vsuxquels ce Lrcre est sp& ~ialemetzt destint~. ~ vols. Bye. pp. 866. A Paris, Chez Bernard,- 1g05. ASTBOI~t0MY is certainly the boldest and most; cot~iprehen~ sive of all our speculations. ft is the science of the material universe considered as a whole. Though~employed upon object& apparently withdrawn from th~ sphere of human action and~ pursuit, it teaches us, nevertheless, that these objects mate. rially aff& ~t, nay constitute, our physical condition. rjhe wide-spreading firmament, while it lifts itself above all mortal things, exhibits to us th~it h.minary, which is the light, and life, and glory of our world, and when this retiriu* from e~r view, is lighted up with a thousand lesser fires, that never: cease to burn, that never fail to take their accustomed places, ~nd never rest from their slew, solemn, and noiseless mareli Among the objects more immediately aboutus all is icissitud~ and change. It is the 4es~iijiy of t%ertostpial things -toperpet..~ nate themselves by succession. Plants arise out of the ear~tl~, flourish awbile and decay, and their place is filled by others; Animals also have their periods of growth and decline6 Even. man is not exempt from the general law. His exquisitefraa~, with all its fine organs, is soon reduced to its original eJ~ nients, to be mouWeil again into new and humbler thrins. Nations are like individuals, privileged only with a more protracted existence. The firm earth itself, the theatre qf all this change, partakes in a degree of the commoit lot ~f Its inhabitants, and the sea once- heaved its waves where now rolls a tide of wealth -and population. Situated as we are, in this fleeting, fluctuating state, it is consoling to be ahlet& dwell upon an enduring scene, to contemplate la-wsthaVa~ immutable, an order that has never been interrulA~l,~o fi~ not the thoughts only, but the eye, upon objects that aOer the lapse of so many ages, and the faIl of so many statea, cities, human fllstituti4ns, an(l monuments of art, continue to occupy, the same places, to move with the. same regularity, and Zo shine wit1~ the same pure, fresh, undiminislwd lustre. As the heavens are the most striking spectiwle that preaeti1~ itself to our contemplation, so there is no subject of pldI~ 1$~t.] BaW?s st0~ of 4strtmomy. 161 sophical inquiry, which has more engaged- th& attentiou pf mankind. Its history carries us hack to the eadiest times, and introduces us to the languages and customs, the religian and poetry, the. sciences and arts, the tastes, talents, and pe- culiar genius, or the different nations of the earth. The ancient Atlantides and Ethiopians, the Egyptian priests, the magi of Persia, the shepherds of Chaldea, the bramins of India, the mandarins of China, the Phenician navigators, the philoso- phers of Greece, and the wandering Arabs, have contributed to the general mass of knowledge and speculation upon this subject, have added more or less to this vast structure, the common monument of the industry, invention, and intellectual resources of mankind. They, whose imaginations have wan- dered upto the sphere of the stars, like those who have visit- ed unfrequented regions on the. earth, have left there, as in a sort of album, some memorial of themselves and of the times in wl~ch they lived. The constellations are a faithful pic- ture of the ruder stages Gf civilization. They ascend ~ times of which no other record exists, and are destined t~ remain when all other~aw~ l~t; ~Fragments oCttiatory, cu- rim~ dates and documents relating to chronology, geography~, and laiig~iages, are here Preserv~tn impet~ishable characters. The adventures of the gods and the inventions of men, th~ erplojts~uf heroes and the fancies of poets, are here pe~pet- nally celebrated before all n?athns. The seven stars an* Orion present themselves to us as they appeared to AmoS and Homer. Here is consecrated the lyre of Orpheus and the ship of the Argonauts, and, in t!le same firmament the mariners compass ~4nd the telescope of Hersehell. We remark further, that astrenomy is the most improved of all the branches of human knowledge, and that which does the greatest credit to the human understanding. We have in this obtained: the object of our researches. We have solved the great problem proj~sed to us in the celestial motions; ~nd our solution is as simple at~d as grand, as the spectacle itself, and is in every respect worthy of so exalted a subject. It is~ not the astronomer only, who is thus satisfied, hut the proof is ofa~nattre to carry conviction to the most illiterate and skeptic. cal. Oitrknowledge, extending tothe principles and laws whicl~ the author of natore has chosen to impress upon his work, coow p~ehen4~ the future; it resembles f hat which has been regard. ed as the exclusive attribute of supreme intelligence. We are 1 5~ & iI1t~s flist~r~ of ~t1osom~. ~ tims enabled, tiot only to ex~laln those unu~ual appearai~ees in the heavens, which were folrnerly the occasion of such un- worthy fears, but to foiewarn meti of their occurrence; and, by predicting the time, place, and circumstances of the he- nomenon, to disarm it of it~ terror. r1~here is however nothing perhaps so surprising in this science, as that it makes u~ acquainted With methods, by which we can survey these bright fields on whjch it is employed, and apply our own familiar measures to the paths which are thete traced, and to the bodies that trace them; that we can esti- mate the form, and dimensions, and inequalities, of objects ~o immense, andso far removed from the little Scene of our lii- bors. What would be the astonishment of an inhabitant of one of those bodies, of Jupiter for instance, to find that, by means of instruments of a few feet in length, and certain fi~- aires and characters, still ~znaIIer, atI of our oWn Inventios,, We had succeeded in determining the magnitude and weight of this great planet, the length of its days and hi~hts, and the variety of its seasons, that we had watched the motibn~of its moons, calculated their eclips9s, and appliedrtfietn to iwp~r~ taut donie,ittc purposes? What would be our astonishment to learn, that an insect, one of those for instance which se~e sometimes to illuminate the waters of the ocean, though coui- ~ned by the exercise of its proper organs, and locomotive powers, to the sphere of a few inhes, had, by artificial itids of its own contriving, been able to ettend Its sphere of obser- ~ation, to the huge monsters that move about it ; that it had even attempted, not altogether without success, to fathom the -depth of the abyss, in which It occupies so insignificant ~a place, and to number the beings it contains? Since astronomy is thus connected with the development of our faculties, it may be a matter of some curiusity to no~ lice a few of the more important epochs in its history. Itts considered as properly originating with the creeks, who were called to Alexandria by the Ptolemies. Before the founda- tion of this school, no general scheme, vith respect to the study of the heavens, had been devised, no enlarged notions had been formed, no means had been found out for precise and accurate determinations, nor could astronomy be said to exist as a science. Those who pretended to study the heavens, were employed in vague notices of the most obvious phenomena. On such a dad, an haur after sUnSet or two hours bt~fOre l8~1.] 1I~i4d4s IIi~tory of ~/I$tVOUOrnU. 163 midnight, the moon -was one half or one third eclipsed, to the north or south. 4 planet eclipsed a star, or was distant from a star one or two moons, or one or two cu& its. This was the kind of observations made by the Chaldeans and others, before the time above referred to. tt is to the Greeks, th~t we are indehted for every thing that reduced the study of the stars ~to the form of a rational and phiIo~~phical inquiry. They conceived the plaij whichhas now been pursued for two thou- sand year& They - projected the - work ~n ~vhich so many lmnds have been employed. They invented instrtjwerits and ~wthods which a~e the basis of those still in use. They a~e the authors of that geotnetry, which is our l)ride and bQast, the science afexteusion, and of the relations of lines and an -gles, the most pov~ erful and the most i ndiapeneiabik. of all in- struments, in an enterl)rise of this nature, and the iuo~t pure- ly a (reation of all productions of the human mind. It is in hne to 4he philosophers of~ ~this school, that w~ are indebted for the first example of a regular course of observatioss~ for 4hose determinations whieb make the ,elements and groui~d- ~ork of the science. Tue magnitu of the earth,t~eMngth of the year, the obliquity of the ecliptic, the precession of tke equinoxes, are among the objectssought. and attained with jnore or less success. The distances and dimensions of the sun and moon were ~alsa discussed; but what seemed ~iL this time the most daring-exploit of all, i-em ~otiam tteo-impivbam, according to Pliny, was the making a catalogue of the nurn- her and positions of the stars. This was undertaken and ex cuted by Iiipparchus, who has more claim, titan any other person, to be considered as -the faimder of the science. Qth- ers had distinguished themselves by particular researches or insulated ohservations. Hipparchus took.a comprehensive view of the whole subject, collected and combined the detach- ed results of those who preceded him, re-exairiined every thing, and built up a body of sound doctrines upon the sure basis of observation and a reined geometry. The fruits of these immense labours were preserved by Ptolemy, the last ornament of this school, and, together with some additions of his own, weredigested into the form of a treatise, probably the first deserving this title, certainly the oldest now extant.- In this venerable work, the united product of so many genera- tions of philosophers and learned men, to which so many pow.~ erful minds have made their feeble contributions, and toward .Nbw Series, Nb. 5. 20 154 Baillys ffzstor1j ofV1stronotttj~. [3an. which so many have laboured in vain, or worse than in Vain, we recognize the fairest and noblest specimen of the sc~entifi~ attainments of the ancients; we here find their amount of knowledge, and their final opinion, with regard to this great problem, which has exercised the skill and ingenuity of so many people of different ages arid countries. The destruction of this renowned seat of learnihg by the Arabs, was followed by a iong arid barren period. At length this very people were the first to catch the spirit which seem~ ed still to linger near the consecrated spot. They attempted to collect and rekindle at Bagdat the remains of that science, which still slumbered in the ruins of Alexandria. They took advantage of the lapse of several centuries to correct certain results transmitted to them. With the impiovements and ad.. ditions, that werenow introduced into the science, are associat- ed the names of Almamori and Albiteg~ius. Mor~uver~about this time IJIugh Begh, a prince of Tartary, and grandson of Tamerlane, improved the tables of Ptokmy, ~nd wade a new -catalogue of the stars. Thi~i 6bservei~ is rernarkabh4 ~ ing the last of any note, who contributed to the advancement ~of the science in this quarter of tl~e w~irId We are now to take a view of the science in a new re~iou of the earth. It ha~ hitherto flourished only in ~v~i1d climates and under serene and brilliant skies. It may be considered as indigenous in the East, but, like many plants of the same climate, it was more luxuriant than fruitful. In Europe it nev- or sprung up spontaneously. It was transplanted thither from Asia, and as is sometimes the use with exotics, it has thrived better by assiduous and judicious cultivation, In an unpropi- tious soil, than it had done without this care, in reiousthe most favourable to its growth. - Astronomy has now been an object of attention in Europe but a few years, as it were, compared with the whole period of its history, and it has assumed a tone and character never before conceived by its most devoted friends. The first ma- terial step in its progress was the establishment of the pre- sent arrangement of .the sun and planets by Copernicus. This doctrine, to he sure, was held by Pythagoras, and, as if the soil had some connexion with it, on European ground. But it w~s now presented in a new and stronger hl~ht, witl~ its leading features more fully and distinctly unfolded. It is remarkable, that this doctrine should, in so many in- 18~l.] Baill1,s History of 4stronomy. 155 stances, have exposed its authors and defenders to persecu- tion. Pythagoras, we are told, made it known only to a ~e- lect few; but his disciple Philolaus, who had the courage to teach it publicly, was obliged to fly in order to escape the odfuni it excited. Two and a half centuries afterward Ari~a tarchus ventured to maintain the same opinion and met with a similar fate. He was accused of impiety, for having dis- turbed the repose of Vesta, that is, of the earth, and of tho gods Lares the protectors of the universe. Copernicus meditated upon the subject for many years, before he uader.~ took to give his thoughts to the world, and scarcely surviving the publication of his work, he left to others to receive the shock, tl~at awaited those who espoused it. Galileo could not resist the accumulated evidence, that presented itself to his enlarged and philosophic mind, in favour of this refined scheme, and was accordingly destined to bear the whole weight of indignation 4ha~ was ready to ktr8t upon the disturbers of aprejudice so o~ld and so deeply iootet; lie was arrested and seven cardinals clothed with the authority of the church sat in judgmentupon this great apqptle, E)~f natural tr~th~ and solemnly pronounced the following arret; ~i~o ~narr~Yai~t~ that the sun, immoveable and without local motion, occupies the cen- tre of the world,is a proposition absurd, false in philosophy and heretleal, since it is contrary to the testimony of the scrip- tures. It is equally absiukl, and false iii philosophy, to say that the earth is not immoveable in the centre of the worhi; and this proposition, theohigically considered, is at least em- r0ne~IIs in faith. vol. i. p. 144. With the name ,9f ~a1ileo we connect the first use of th~ telescope, and the commencement of a new and most brilliant era in the history of astronomy. The defect of the natural om~gan with respect to the objects of this science had ney~i been recognized. We had gazed upon them without c~mpre- hending what we saw. We had cast a vacant eye over the splendid pages of this volume, as children amuse themselves with a book, which they are unable to read. We had caught here and there, as it were, a capital letter,or a picture9 but we. had failed to ~listinguish those smaller charact& rs o~i whici~~the sense of the whole depended. It is. ~ot the least of the advantages of this wondeiful in- vention,that it has taught us the importance of those means of ilupr9vement and enjoyment, which arepiaced within the 156 BaiMVs ffistor~ ~f JI8tro~iom~f; [Jan. reach of our own ingenuity arid skill. No one surely wouli have dreamed of procuring such an aid to the tattaral si~ht, any more than of ci4eating a net sense. it ~Aould have s~ein- ed like changing the law of our being, and the condition in which we are placed. We have, by means of this instru- ment, emerged as it were from a prison~ The mind has ef~ fected its enlargement, as an insect bursts its little tenement, and flutters through the free air, and over the gay fields. Another charrge. in the science, of the first importance, WM wrought by the genius of Kepler. Th~ discoveries of this great man, though less calculated to strike the common ob- server than many others, are notwithstanding the foundatios of all the great improvements of later times. rulley are the first steps in that rapid career, which has placed Europeans so far before all others who have cultivated this science. The history of astronomy has been divided into two periods* one erterittingfrom its origin to the time of Kepler, and the oth. ei~ comprehending the interval that has since elapsed. During the first of these periode all investigations proceeded spon the supposition. that the planets moved in circular orbits. Kep~ ler, after the most irrtense and persevering applieatiou e subject, h~id the rare merit of disabusing the world of this pi~vlific error. He found that the true form of the planetary orbits was the;elhpse. He detected also the law of the ine- quality of their motions, and the relation between the dis.. taices of these bodies from the sun, and the times in which they complete their revolutions. It is the privilege of great men, says Bailly, to change re- ceived ideas and to announce truths~ which spread their influence over future ages. By these titles Kepler deserves to be regarded as one of. the greatest men that has appeared upon earth. By the ascendancy of his genius he commenced our superiority over the ancients; he is the true Ibunder of modern astronomy, and is a present which Germany has made to Europe.Kepler pra- ceeded, by removing one prejudice after another; it is by sac- ceasive steps~ by repeated eflhrts, that one renders himself worthy to tear the veil extended over twenty centuries, and to become the light of successive ages. Kepler, instructed by tradition, and imbued with a philosophy, the basis of which was simplicity, was to seek truth only through multiplied facts, and comphcated hy- potheses. It was necessary to get rid of a great number of er- rors, to suhstitutc forced suppositions for ahsurd ones; a long series of ages was to be traversed in order to arrive at the simple 18~l.] DoAll~s ffzstor~ of .Gstrouom~. 157 principles ;..-the secret, thus detected, had never been revealed; t~h~s ascoverv was a favour from heaven. It is the privitege of geiiiw. to penetrate into the essences of thiiigs, to ground truths upon the foundations of nature, and to render them as dna-able as her works. ~ Keplers life, so occupied, so glorious for himself, so useful to the sciences, was still (liSturbed by the care of providing for his family. He had a small pension, but on account of the scarcity of the times, it was not paid him. He had to make journeys to soricit it, and thus, consuming time that was so precious, his mind wus harassed, arid his strength wasted by anxiety. He was re- duced for eleven years to absolute want. Hedied at the age of fifty-nine; leaving to his wife and children nothing but his tame. pp. 93, 140. The last and most important of all the revolutions, that have taken place in the science, is that achieved by Newton. There is no other instance of so signal a change in the opin-. ions and pursuits of the philosophic world. It may be com- pared to those great and rapid conquests. by which new bundaries and new laws have been given to states and king- doms, and new directions to the industry and active employ- merits of men; with this difference, however, that these have been made by violence, and with the aid and co-operation of ithe~s, while the revolution in the sciences, effected by New.. ton, was the silent, solitary work of an individual. It has been said, that Newton was as fortunate, as be was great. It is undoubtedly true, that there is a particular epoch in t~ae pa-ogress of discovery, more favourable than any other, for the exertion of great talents, and calculated t~ reflect peculiar glory upon him whose lot it is to fall upon it.. In the gradual approaches of day, there is no one moment that is easily distinguished from those which paecede and follow it, but the fit-st bursting of the sun above the horizon is an event that is marked by every one If Newton had been appointed to fill the place of Hipparchus or Kepler, he might not have dohe more than either of them. Coming t~ the work, as he did, he availed himself of all the talents and exertions of those who preceded him. He looked around and saw the materials for a beautiful edifice, wrought with im- mense labor and skill, by different persons, at different times, and in different parts of the earth. It required the genius of a master-builder, to perceive the relation and fitness of 158 Baillys Histor~j of Jstronomqj. Elan. parts so detached from each other, so numerous, so covered with rubbish and the rust of time, and needing so touch ~ he supplied to connect and complete the whole. Michael An~ gelo said he would l)lace the Pantheon in the air. Newtow has placed in the view of all the world and all future ages, ~ the great works of his predecessors, in one vast imperishable monument of his genius. It is worthy of remark, that though the Erglish nation is so justly proud of this illustrious pliiIos~plier, it has left it to foreigners to do justice to his character and his writings. Among these there are none of the popular class hose ac.K~ count: is more full and more eloquent than that of Bailly. Tho following is selected as a specimen. In speaking of Newton, says he, who was alone and modest, who did not seek to appear, who did great things with simplicity, it is necessary to be as simple as he was, as nature whomhe fel. lowed.~.-~We shall not speak of his studies; he was born rather to invent than to study; he is not seen, like others, advancing by ellbrts and by failures. Thus Fontenelle applies to him a thought of the ancients, respecting the noble river which fertilizes Egypt, the source of which was a long tima & snka~~M~fl~0B not *rmitMd~to see * .NIk in its feeble emerging state. p. 300 Newton was at mature age, when he published his immortal work. He had been revolving the subject in his mind, and maturing the truths during twenty years. Nothitig but excessive n~desty could have so long prevented his assuming such a superiority over the most distinguished men of his age. So rare a merit ought to he preserved in history. Justice requires, that men should be known by their virtues; and pride may learn by examples, that modesty is almost always inseparable from true greatness. Newton, more than any man, owes an apologyforhisetevation he took a eight, so extraordinary, and returned with truths so new, that great address was necessary in those who would resist these truths. Doubtless other discoveries were necessary to pre- pare the way for Newton. Particular views lead to more general ones. Ilooke pronounced the name of attraction; he thought it was uni~veral; he asked what were its laws. As to facts and prin- ciples, Kepler had given the laws of motion of the celestial bod~ ies, Galileo those of the (lescent of heavy ones near the earth, Descartes had announced the centrifugal force, linygens had ~ tablished its principles and variations; such are the steps by which Newton rose. It is thus that the mind ot one age is formed by that of the preceding. But past ages had left errors as ~elVE~ ls~t.] Railt1fs Ilistorij of ./Istronomy. 159 truths; a singular talent was necessary to make the discrimina- tion, and to call to its assistance all the parts necessary to so great a design. It is a beautiful sight to see Newton moulding the earth to its proper shape; saying to the tides, hitherto shall ye come, and no farther; chaining the planets to an irnmoveable eantre, and prescribing limits to the eccentric wanderings of com~~ ets. How elevated his rank, how far removed from all who have preceded him in the same career! Newton was as singular for the character of his mind as for its Superiority ; it was pure and without alloy. Genius for the most 4part is ardent and passionate..; it seems to require th~ iwpi~lae of motion, in order to rise. That of Newton waa great withrnit pas- sion, and tranquil withouf losing any of its activity. There is no appearance of effort in what he does; he employs one truth to develope another; he seems to have made use of his genius mere- ly to transport him to the centre of natore, where all the rays of truth meet; he relates as a spectator, what he saw. Newton had acquired all his glory by the time that most men begin their career. I-fe passed the rest of his life in civil employ- meats, in reaping the fruits of his labours, in receiving the esteeni ~nd admiration, which were~ s~ univpraal. Rewards and titles were heaped upon him, which did less honour to the man, who received, than to the nation, who conferred them. The eulogy of the F~nglish will always find itself connected with that of New. ton. This natiou has the credit of. discerning merit, and of re- warding It with admiration; talent has a rank in it,..anU heco~nes flu? object of a durable homage. The genius of Newton perhaps the most rare, that any country, or any age has produced, excited a general enthusiasm. His philosophy was that of England, all her distinguished men were his disciples, the whole mass of her enlightened citizens, freest in a free country, chose him for their chief and (lictator, and the nation ren(lered him a kind of worship. This great man shewed stiil his superiority by preserving his modesty; he never abandoned it; the serenity of his mind was not disturbed by so many distinguished nultrages f he always pos- sessed his soul; he was no less remarkable for this than for his talents. having long enjoyed what is most valuable among men, virtue and glory, he at length closed his life in that peace which lie had ever sought, and in that advanced age, which seems to be the recompense of virtue,.and the consequence of a tranquil life. vol. ii. pp. ~OO.-327. In speaking of the origin and progress of astronowy, we have taken no notice of a favourite hypothesis of our author, respecting the very great antiquity of this science. 160 Raiflys Iii story of Astronomy. EJan. In passing, says he, over the history of ancient astronomy we find only relics, we meet with nothing but the vestiges of a ruined system, of a primitive institution, the splendor of which is attest- ed by what remains. The parts, by which these relics were orig- inally connected, are now destroyed, or lost in the obscurity of time. We have not been governed by the spirit of system in the idea we have formed of an ancient state of the sciences, changed and effaced by some natural convukion, or political revolution it is the result of a critical examination of facts, and a careful comparison of such as are related to each other. The example of revolutions, of which some account still remains, shows the possi. bility of others, of which the tradition may be lost. We are this respect situated like a person, who should be transported sud- denly to the banks of the Euphrates. In the midst of those plains, to him new and unknown, the spectacle of vast ruins, in part concealed by vegetation, or covered with earth, the superb columns, remaining erect to show the heighth of the edifices to which they belonged, the shattered remnants of wealth and iiiag- nificence, the sculptured marble, covered with inscriptions, would immediately suggest to him the idea of a large city ; he ~vould know it was Babylon. The plan, the disposition of the buildings, the general character and elfect of the -whole, weuld nO longer remain; but in the details, the work of art, in the immensity of the edifices, the fruits of riches and power, he would recognize the ~anciemmt residence of a numerous and civilized people. vol. i. pp. 187, 188. It is contended in proof of what is here advanced, thatthe knowledge remaining among the most ancient people, of which we have any account, was not of an elementary nature. was not that which would first sugg-~st itself to persons just be- ginning to learn, but was rather the detached portions of a highly improved system, it was such as would most naturally be retained by nations, who had (eased to cultivate it. We find, f(ir instance, the Chaldeauis, Indians, and Chinese. frm time immemorial, in the possession of methods for calculating eclipses, which they blindly followed ~ ithout any idea of the principles on which they depended. These nations, it is maintained, thus possessing the same important meth (Is ~ ith out the industry and talents necessam~y to discover them, must have derived them from their common ancestors. or from some active, ingenious people, like the present Europeans. who had cuP~ated this science long enough, and successfully enough, to form tables of the motions of the heavenly bodies. ~aiU~a history ~f 4strosomy. ~6I Is it ~ked, says our z~uthor, how this knowledge was preserv. ed and transmitted; we answer that the columns, covered with hierogIyph~al characters, are the records which have survived the deluge. These monu:uients of the ancient inhabitants o~ the earth were undoubtedly very numerous in Asia. It is in the part of the world first settled, that these original documents are to be looked for. The columns of Egypt, on which Thaut engraved tbe principles of the sciences, a. e only copies, which have become originalanow that the others are forgotten. p. 10. to Among the relics of the antidehtviau astronomy :supposed retained, by the oriental nations, are uiewtjvee4 p~rtic~ ularly some remarkable astronomical periods.. The month of the moon, the year of the sun, we are told,were ex~ actly (letermined; the revolutions of these bodies had been corn- biried in a period of two hundred and twenty-three months, Which supposes a knowledge of the inequalities of the moon~ rn a period .4 nhietecn years, the golden cyole ~einven4ed by Meton, in a period of six hundred years, the exactness of which is extolled by Domiruqqe Cassini. There are, i~ndeed, many others produced by the course of the st~r~. The u~iliqvity of the sun~~ path had been recognized and determined, the heavens had been divided into constellations, the zodiac into twelve parts according to the .urse of the sun, and into twenty..eight according to the course of the moon. hi fine, a ~egree of the circumference of the earth had been measured, and made use of to determine with precision the entire extent of our glohe such knowledge can be the result only of many and long continued ohservations.~To the above particulars, we nay add two opinions, which seem to belong to ancient times; one is that of the return of comets, and the other, that of the true arrangement of the celestial bodies [the toperni.. can system.] Ihese could have proceeded only f~om a sound philosophy, aided by a kng course of observations, and especially from a philosophy sutii~iently matured to have removed the errors that cover truths so remote and refined. vol. ii. pp. 448,449. As a further l~roof that the astronomy of the most ancient i~ations had not a distinct, separate or gin among them, but was derived from their common ancestors, we are reminded of the sigular conformity. that has been found to prevail so universally, as to the first principles of the science. The dif- ferent nations into which the human race was divided had parcelled out the heavens in the same arbitrary and whimsi~ cal manner. We find every where a zodiac, divided into .New Series, 17Vo. 5. 21 Baillys History of .~lstronomy. the same number of constellations, and distinguished by sim. ilar names. how surprising it is that the name of Great Bear should have been given to the same northern constellation by a nation ofT America [the Iroquois], and by the most ancient people of Asia, from whom this name has passed to us. This constellation does not resemble a bear, nor any other animal.What a surprising coincidence, that two people should agree in a thing so perfectly arbitrary. vol. i. p 570. But what is more remarkable still is, that the names of the planets are so generally applied to the days of the week. This is perhaps, says Bailly, the most singular proof of the antiquity of astronomy, and of the existence of this people ante. nor to all others. The planets, which preside over the days of the week, were arranged in the order, which still exists among us, namely. ~rst the Sun, then the Moon, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus,* and Saturn. This is found to be the same among the an- cient l~gyptians, Indians and Chinese. The order is not that of the distances, magnitude, or brightness of the planets; it is an. order that is apparently arbitrary, or which, at least, is founded on reasons not known to us. It is not to be supposed, that chance -should have conducted these three nations independently, first to the same idlca of giving to the days of the week the names of the seven planets, and then of giving these ames according to a par. tacular arrangement selected from a tifousand others. vol. i. p. 27. But our author draws his chief argument in support of this hypothesis from the present state of astronomy in India. - The people of this country, we are told, may be regarded as the depu~itaries of the most precious remains of antiquity. These remains, moreover, are as pure, as they are ancient; for, in the indolence of the Indians, they possess without acquiring, and their pride prevents them from adopting any thing from others. They know nothing of causes; we find in one place the practice of observations without results, ~t1 another results without ohserva tions, methods, which the most intelligent employ without corn. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursd~iy, and Friday with us are derived from Tuisco, Wden, Thor, and Freya, the Saxon names of Mars, Mercury. Jupiter, and Venus. The days of the week in the East still correspon4 to mrs. Soma.var, for instance, of the Indians, which signifies day of the moon, answers to our Monday. Yet no man, says Sir William Jones, ever imagined that so remarkable an arrangement was borrowed from the Goths or Germans. 1821.] 16~ & uillys llistorij of Astronomy,. prehending them, as foreigners retain a few phrases of a language they do not understand. From the total ignorance that prevails with regard to the principles of the science, we infer that the methods they use, are not the work of the people who practice them ; it is not to be believed, that those priiciples on which they depend, could have been forgotten. The people may have lost the recollection of certain historical facts. and particular in- sulated branches of knowledge. But a science consists of a body of ideas, that mutually preserve anti defend each other. it fol- lows, therefore, that this kind of information, which they possess, has existed with the indians from time iuv~memorial.Vt e think that they have existed as a people, from the year 353, before the christian era. It is the date deduced from the reign of their kings. But accor(ling to their own calculation their antiquity ta beyond all probability. They allow for the duration of the world 4,320,000 years, which they divide into four periods. The first, the age of innocence, lasted l,7~8,000 years; the seconds 1,296,000 years; the third, 864,000 years; and the fourth, the age of ca- lamity, that which is now passing, and which they call Gali. Fug, is to last 432,000 years. it is evident that these periods of the Indians are the origin of the four ages of the poets. Never has truth blended itself with error, or rather with fable, in a manner more easy to be distinguished The small number of years of the & ist period, p roves that it contains a true chronological epoch,. which ascends to the year 3102 before the christian era. That which does the greatest credit to the Indians, is their method of calculating eclipses. It is very expeditious and suffi~ ciently exact. The Bramins seem to be machines mounted to calculate eclipses. Their rules are in verse, and they recite them as t hey proceed. They make use of cauris. a kind of shelf which is adopted as a coin in India. This mode of calculating has the advantage of being ready and expeditious; but it does not admit of the process being reviewed. The steps are destroyed as the work proceeds, and if a mistake is made, it is necessary to begin anew. Although those who concern themselves with astronomy, that is, the Bramnins, may have a just idea of the new and full. noon, yet the people, plunged in the most profound ignorance~ explain these phases in their own way. They suppose that the moan is fill- ed with ambrosia, and that the gods come to take their repast there, and this is what causes the diminution of its light. The regular- ity of the return shews that the provision is carefully renewed, and that the gods have their appetites under good regulation. The Bramins make the earth the centre of the universe; they imagine seven worlds, which are the planets, among which the 164 Baill~s Ni~4or1, qf .tstrrmom~. [Jaa. earth fixed upon a mountain of gold, occupies the pnnciple plate. They do not appear t~ be acquainted with the diurnal motion f the earth; they think that the stars move, and that they are a ki~~ of fishes, because they mwe in ether as fishes do in water. This idea,, which is without doubt only a figurative explanatioi, is more just and philosophical than that of the ancient Greeks. who sup~ ~posed that the stars were attached like nails to the solid, spherical ~hel1 of the heavens. They reckon nine planets, namely, ~the seven which we have, and two invisible dragons, which are the cause of eclipses. vol. i. pp. 4854. It is a singular fact that the Indians place the moon farther off Than the sun That this opinion is not confined to the ignorant multitude,and that it is very confidently maintained, seems evident from the followin~ incident. A Bramin of Tanjout, says Bailly, b ~noirig himself in prison with one of our missionaries, had long confeienees with him, anti he bore very, patiently his refutation of idolatry, and all that he chose to say against the gods of the coun. fry; but when he saw that the inistdonary pretended that the sun was farther from us than the moon, ii se fdchu toMt de ban, he could bear it u~ longer, ~rid r~fued to have any thing more to do witl~ him. vol. i. p. 55 Notwithstanding all the ab~urdities of the Jndians, whick ~orni s~ striking a contrast to their refined methods of calcu- !atior. their pride is not less extraordinary. They despise us Europeans, says M. Legentil, and regard us as little better than savages. Proud of their cast, and of the antiquity of their knowledge, they can scarcely imagine that we cultivate the scien. ces, that we have universities, and academies as they have. This character of the Indians is a nateral consequence of their ancient superiority; heirs of a primitive people, from whom they have received their sciences, they enjoyed for a long time the privilege of being the only enlightened nation in the world. vol. i pp. 49 The aceur~cy of the astronomIcal periods and tables of the Indians could, it is j)resumed, be attained only by a mire active, ingenious and persevering people, and by means of instruments, methods, and theories, that are no longer to be found. Atid of which there is no account or traftition.. Hence, it is inferred, they must have beeti derived fr~rni a very an- cient people, whose history and even name, are now lost. The present astronomical works of the East are, it is contend. ed, the fruits of a more enlightened age, when the science was cultivated, as it is now cultivated in Europe; and the present race of Indians are like our almanac makers, sNe kS~l.J ~wii5y~a B~stur!, qf .8~troiwmy~. *~ follow rules, which they never could have invented, and to obtain rsuts, that tlwy never v~ould have dreamed of with. out the ilestructi4ms of their masters. The present state o1 astronomy in the East, particularly in India, is certainly a very singular pheiiomenon. it is but lately that we have been made acquainted with it, and we have probably yet much to learn resjwctiieg it; we are in want at least of more information before we can very satis~ facrorily make up our minds on the question as to its origin and antiquity. it seems to be agreed that the Indians ha e more accurde tables of the motions of the heavenly bodies, than we have known in Europe till within a short period, and that they have been in p~session of them for a long iime, and that they are construded so differently from ours. that it is no ordinary labour tor our best astronomers to decipher them. Their tables recognise the equation of time and the distiitctiornr of solar and siderial year, solar and si derial day; they imply a knov~ ledge not only of the obliqui- ty ot the ecliptic, of the precession of the equinoxes, of the mo- tion of the nodes and apsides of the moon and planets. of the equation of the suns entre, hut of many minute irregularities in the celestial motions. that seem altogether beyond the skill and means of the present inhabitants of the country. It is true that they have amongst them a knowledge of arithmetic, of elementary geometry, and plain trigonometry, but are without the doctrine of the sphere, so essential to precision in all astronomical calculations. They appear moreover to be destitute not only of the telescope, but of all instruments of any value for measuring angles and time. It is from facts of this kind, so difficult to reconcile upon any hypothesis, that Bailly infers the great antiquity of the Indian astronomy. But he tindertakes to prove, by internal e~idence,drawn from the tables themselves, that they must have been constructed about five thousand years ago. They claim to be thus ancient; they i~fer to an epoch 3102 years before the christian era, when, according to them, the planets were all in conjunction. Our own tables are resorted to as a test of the truth of this claim, and the result of the calculation is~ ~t should seem, a confirmation of the hypothesis. It is con- fended, moreover, that there are certain elements in the In- dian tables, far from being true now. but which were true, ac- cording to our theory of gravity, at the epoch supposed, iind 166 Raillys Thstory ~f 4stronomt,. tJan. must therefore have been the result of observations made at that time, since the possessors of these tables are without that theoretical knowledge which would be necessary to adapt them to the varying condition of the planetary orbits. Not content with maintaining this enviable distinction of the natiomi in question, Bailly undertakes to show that the Greeks of Alexandria derived from this source no inconsid- erable part of what we give them so much credit for dis- covering themselves, and that we ourselves, confessedly the pupils of the Greeks, are thus under obligations to this high- ly favoured people, and that we should do well to avail mir- selves still farther of these valuable treasures, which have been so long concealed from the world, The question as to the origin of a science, in many respects so matured, and yet so unlike that of any other nation, among a people apparently destitute of the means and ability to ac- quire it, has called forth much learning and ingenuity, without fu~nishi ng the means for a very satisfactory decision. The discussion would lead us into long and minute details and calculations in which few of our readers we fear would find interest enough to follow us. Since the time of Bailly, however, considerable light has been thrown upon this sub- ject, which has tended more and more to expose the extra- vagance of IkiS hypothesis, and to show how much it owed to the singular address and eloquence with which it was defended. According to the Indian astronomers the planets were all in conjunction 3102 years before the christian era, and this epoch, says Bailly, was founded upon actual observation. Now from our own tables which are the best means we have of judging, it is necessary to except one of the planets entire- ly, and to allow a space of seventeen degrees, as the small- est limits within which the others were comprehended. The Indian tables, we are told, apply to the state of the heavens at this epoch, and the proof is derived from our own tables and theories, which it is admitted by the best judges, are riot to he depended upon for a time so remote. Of what value then s this kind of evidence ? It is important to observe, that Bailly was not acquainted with the systems of astronomy in use among the Indians, or with the manner in which their tables are composed. It ap- pears from the investigations of those who have long resided in the country, and who have had access to the best materials, ie~ii Raillys History of Astronomy. 167 ~n(l best means of information, that the Trivalor~e tables used by Bailly, and which he supposed were about five thousand years old, were actually written and dated about five hun~ dred and sixteen years ago; and that the mean annual mo- tions given in that work were, on the principles of the Iiindn astronomy. calculated to give the positions of the planets in the heavens at that time.In most of the Hindu systems cer~ taiui psints back are fixed on, as epochs, at which the planets are assitnwd to fall into a line of mean conjunction with the sun in the be~i assume(l, as noing of Aries. From the points of time so Cl)OChs, the Hindu astronomer carries on his cal- culations, as if they had been settled so by actual observa- tion; and d termines the mean annual motions which he must employ in his system. from thence, as [and whicb] will give the positions of the planets in his own time; as near as he is able to determine the same by observation.* This explanation of the Indian epoch appears farther probable from the practice of other astronomers. Ptolemy makes use of the era of Nabonassar, which began about 800 years before his time. Many modern astronomers have re- ferred their calculations to the middle of the last century, and the epoch now used is the commencement of the present. Our Juhian period is perfectly analogous to the Cali-Yug of the Indians; it ascends to 764 years before the creation, and the purpose of it is to make the cycle of the sun, that of the moon, and the indiction all begin at the same time. But the question still returns, what is the age of the astro- nomical systems in question, arid whence are they derived? If we ask the Indians themselves, they tell us, that they have eighteen works on astronomy, that were received by divine revelation, that the oldest of these, the Sury4 Siddhdnta, was given to them ~,i 64,899 year~ ago.~ If we consult the works themselves on which these high pretensions are founded, ~ve find no observati,ns that are to be relied on, no documents to justify any very great antiquity. According to Mr. Bentley, who appears to have investigated this subject with great ability and fairness, the Indians have no book more than thirteen hun- dred years old, and they cannot be said to have had any con- aiderable knowledge of astronomy earlier than the commence- Asiatic Researches, vol. vi. pp. 541, 542. ~ Asiatic Researches, vol. vi, p. 549. 16S Bail4es RisterV ~f .#*trt%.Wm9. 4Tau. ment of the sixth centtary of ..ur ~Thq* The Sur~4 & 4dk4,j is generally acknowledged to be their mst ascient astromnn9 ical v~ork, and its age is deduced with great probability from internal e~ idenre. It seems faw to prvsume that the table. would be more exact br the time when they were actually con. striacted, than liir any other; and tli0 computation made upon this assumption for the several planets independently gives for the largest result, 1 1O~ years, for the ~,mal& eat ~4O, for the mean of the whole 731 years, as the age of the above work. We should conclude from this that it was nritten about the middle of the eleventh century. But~ independent of all calculati9ns, says Mr. flentle,y, we know from Hindu books the age inwiich 8zsr$ Siddhdnta was written and by whom. In the commentary on the Hkasvoti, it is declared, that Vareiha was the au~thor of the & eryd Siddh4nta. The Blzasvotz was written in th~ year 102! of & ikmi UA LI. by one Sotanund, who according to Hindu accounts was a (lisCi- pIe of Vare~ha, arid under whose directions b~ himself acknowi- edges he wrote that work. Consequently Vavdila ~umist have been then alive, or else a very short time before it, which agrees as near as it possibly can he with the age above de4u~d.t From the best information we can obtain, therefore, tli~re is little reason to believe that the Indians were in a coidition to afford any valuable instruction to the Greeks. On the~con- trary, there isevery reason to believe that the~~ hi~d very lit- tIe to impart till four centuries after the time of Ptolemy, aufa that their present astronomical works of the earliest date and greatest authority were not written before the middle of the eleventh century. At this time astronomy had been revived and cultivated for more than a century by the Arabians, had passed f,~om the Arabians to the Persians, and from the Per- sians to the Tartars. What was there to prevent its passing into India? It is worthy of remark that the tropical year of the Indians is very nearly the mean between that of Ptolemy and the one used by Albitegnius. The same is to be observed with respect to the equation of the suns centre. We have no doubt that the Greeks are entitled t~ that which we ascribe to them, because they have furnished his with the observations, the instruments and methods by which they attained it. This * Asiatic Researches, vol. viii. art. 6. f Asiatic Researches, vol. vi. p. 5?7. 1821.] Bailigs History of distronorny. ~69 evidence is for the most part wanting with respect to the In- diaris. Perhaps it is yet to be learne(l. They appear to have many books relating to astronomy. They have a better arith- metic than the Greeks. Their algebra amounts to about as much as is taught in our public seminaries. These are not borrowed from the Greeks. Their astronomy also has strong marks of originality. II is not easy to imagine how they COUld have acquired it, with their means and their habits. Ott the supposition that it is derived from their neighbours, it is scarcely less difficult to conceive how they could have disguis- ed it to such a degree. There is no doubt that they were ac- quainted with certain astronomical periods, that they cultivat- ed astronomy to a certain degree, long before the thie of which we have been speaking. and there seems to be as little doubt, that tt;eir present tables have been formed, or at least corrected, in modern times. There is on the whole no proSl)ect we think, of our de- riving from the East any accession to our present stock of astronomical science; and the question seems reduced to a matter of curious speculation merely. We regret that the slight attention we have gh en it has left us so little room to notice some admirable discourses which terminate the work before us, arid constitute not the least considerable part of its value. The first of these discourses is upon the origin of as- trology, in which the author undertakes to refute what he con- ceives to be a prevalent error upon this subject. It is said that astrology is the daughter of ignorance and the mother of astronomy. It is thus that ideas are confounded. As- trorAomy is certainly the oldest. lt is astronomy, that is the wise mother of a foolish (laughter. it was necessary to know the stars before we could attribute to them any influence over us. It was necessary to have an idea of their motions and revolutions, before we could refer to them the destinies of men, and the chain of events in ones life. It is no less a mistake to suppose that astrology arose from ignorance. Astrology prevails more undoubtedly in barbarous times, when credulity joins itself to the natural curiosity of man. Astrology flourishes in the midst of ignorance, as in its natural soil But ignorance never produced the germ of evil which it nourishes. Ignorance is a passive state. The sciences, arts, fables, errors, prejudices~ superstitions, evil as well as good, all come from genius. A single luminary by its heat and attraction JVew & ries, Xo. 5. 170 Baii4js Histor!, ~f Astro,urn~. (Jail. spreads life and motion through the universe. Genius is the sun which gives activity to the moral world. There are two kinds of astrology, natural and judicial. The object of the former is, from a knowledge of the causes acting ups. on the earth and its atmosphere. to tiwesee and announce the changes of the seasons, rain, winds, cold, heat, abundance,, scarci- ty, diseases, & c. The latter is occupied with objects still mor interesting. It delineates at the moment of our birth or some oth- er moment of life, the course we are to pursue. It determines the character we are to receive from the author of nature. and the passions which are to agitate us It shows from a distance evil and good, the perils that await us, and the actions we are to per. form. If it were a true science, man, too well acquainted with his destiny, would have only to repeat upon the stage of life the part he had learned ..lt will be thought perhaps that ignorance, by perverting the principles of natural astrology, has given rise toja. dicial astrology, that it has subjected man as well as the a~osb phere to the power of the stars, and made their influence extend to the storms of the passions and the vicissitudes of fortune, as well as to the incleineacies of the sensens. Indeed it seems very mttural to say, it is the stars, the heavenly bodies generally, that produce winds, rain and storms~ their influence combined with the action of the suns rays, modify cold and heat. The fertility QC the couin~try. health and sickness, depend upon their good ot bad influences. A blade of grass does not spring up, but all the stars contribute to its growth. Man breathes only the emanations with which the stars fill the atmosphere. Man as well as nature is subject to them. lhe celestial bodies must have an influence U~Ofl his will, upon the good and evil scattered in his path, and finally detei nine his (leath as well as his life. It is well that we can ie.~son thus ; hut it is not ignorance, it is not the people, who have taken this step. The idea respecting this subjection, which makes man only a blind instrument, is an abuse of the understand. 111g. It is the inna~instion that deceives the reason. It should be carefully observed that judicial astrology is an observation, natu- ral astrology a system. The people do not make systems; it ia the work of the learned, of philosophers who wander sometimes from the no~de purpose of searching after truth. The transition from natural astrology to judicial supposes a principle which has Dot been perceived, o~e which confounds the soul with the body, mind with matter. Is a principle tIne work of the people? Is it the people who have reasoned upon the two substances in order to confound them ? They either do not know or do not distinguish them.. When society had commenced, and civil institutions had given 1s~1.] Baiflys HiS1OT~ of Astronom~p 171 some degree of enlargement and foresight to the thoughts, whea industry had insured an easy subsistence, man, freed from his cares, began to know the evils of minds the greatest of all evils; the present was no longer of any value; hope and fear carried him to the future; he felt the desire of knowing it ; but he per. ceived at the same time, that the means of knowing it were not in his power. Whatever may he the propensities men have, some to credulity and others to abuse it, the art of predicting the future has not arisen from the design to deceive men. The idea of this art was a bold thought; the invention of the means, erroneous as they are, must have been the work of genius. tienius has imita. tms, but it is alone the author of origii~al ideas. When it had once been made known to men that the future might be foretold by the motions of the stars, the desire of deceiving, and of deceiv- ing without science and without calculation, gave rise to diWerent kinds of divination, by the features of the face, by the lines of the hand, by grains of sand thrown at random, by the flight of birds and the entrails of victims; in tine, the dead have been invoked, that which is no more has been appealed to concerning that which is yet to be.lt would be easy to show that all vulgar errors, the prejidices of the people, arise from philosophical ideas, misappli. ad, and perverted by tradition. Local and tutelar~ divinities were undoubtedly only the emblemsused by philosophers to desig. nate those second causes which depend upon the universal cause. The two principles, adored and feared in Persia, represent phys- ically the elements that oppose each other, morally the coatending passions. This idea is borrowed from the natural world, where aft is at war. The circulation of matter, the renewal of beings un- der new forms, gave rise to the doctrine of metempsychosis, which was transferred from material to intellectual beings, when it be. caine desirable to reconcile this dogma with the immortality of the soul. vol. i. pp. 162l 70. The other discourses of our author treat of the progress which astronomy has made, and which it may yet be expected to make, of the manner of writing a history of this science, of the origin of the constellations, of the nature of the stars, & c. These abound with original reflections, and like all the other parts of the woik, are distinguished by a style and manner that aie rarely found in treatises upon these subjeets~ The following view of the science of geotlietry will serve to illustrate these remarks. All things which exist in the universe, either at the same time or successively, have extension for the mode of their exis L7~ .Baillys History of Astrornnny. r3a~ tence. Space, which embraces all points, all places, all the bounds ot the physical world; motion, which passes over this space, belongs to it, is measured by it and seems to resemhle it; time, which is marked by the succession of things, which exists from their com- mencement to their termikn~tiom, which embraces the Universe in its changes. as space contains it in its permtnencv, every thin~is extended merely ; physical extension which is before us, which the eye can distinguish and pass over, intellectual extension, which man can render present to his mind and which can be per- ceived and measured by the understanding only ; see the prov~ ince of geometry, it is here that it is great, that it is vast as the universe; miraculous work of human reason ! Men have ~re concentrated all the ideas of order and justness that they have re- ceived from the heavens. If it has its limits like the human mind, in like manner it always rises with it, and from its eleva- tion surveys all times and all places, measuring equally the por- tions of fleeting duration,and those of present visible matter. Geometry was formerly only the art of measuring land and fixing its boundaries. It was humble and contracted, it had nothing great but its name. Thus Plato langhed at the: srregant title it assumed of measure of the earth, at a time when the earth was almost entirely unknown It was not long before this science made rapid progress in the hands of Plato hio~self and his disci- ples. it had as yet been applied only to surfaces. it was soon extended to the three dimensions of matter, and bodies were em. braced by it. It was not long restricted to the consideration of straight lines, or to surfaces and solids bounded by these lines. From the sections of a cone were derived four curves, the circle, the ellipse, the parabola, and hyperbola. This new subject was an important step in the science. While the straight line advan- ces by the shortest way, and seems to extend itself by equal and similar steps, directed with an invariable design to the same ob- ject, the curved line is composed of sinuosities and douhlings, each step exhibits a change of purpose and tendency. Several causes must concur in its formation, it must evidently depend upon a law more complicated. This law is contained in certain fundamental properties. The Greeks studied and made known these properties, or the characters of the four curves we have mentioned, the most simple of all and indeed the only ones known at this time. They investigated them without foreseeing how im- portant they were destined to become. When algebra was appli- ed to geometry. by the happy thought of Descartes, the properties which determine each curve were described by abstract signs, by algebraic characters. This union of the two sciences enlarged our resources. Newton, the inventor of the differential calculus, did not finish the work, which perhaps is not to be finished by 1821.] Ikaillys Hf story of Astronomfl. 17~ man. We see theretore that every thing reduces itself to the means which geometry furnishes. What is it which this science proposes? The measure of every thing which exists in the sensi- b le world. That which exists is the work of nature, who has concealed throughout the simplicity of her principles under a variety of phenomena of nature, who, by opposing secondary principles, by making one thing act upon another, has appeared to disturb the pre- vailing uniformity and regularity, and has nowhere made two forms ahke,or one that is regular. Man loses himself in thisinfinite variety. That which is much compounded is no longer regular with respect to him. He requires simple things and such as may be arranged according to his manner of conceiving them. We have undertak- en, in order to study nature, to measure her works, by applying to them the figures of geometry, the regular forms of which we know the law. Able to multiply and vary these almost at pleas. ure, we can, by repeated attempts, imitate in our z~ieasures, the things we would know, we can approach in our copy of this grand model, almost as near as we please to the original, without ever reaching it perfectly. Indeed although the world presents no where lines absolutely straight, surfaces exactly plain, regular tri- angles, squares or cti~bee, perfect circles, ellipses, or parabolas, we measure by means of these figures an infinite variety of spa- k~& ~ things, we require forms less simple arid curvatures more compli- cated, to appreciate these very departures. - Moreover, when Newton applied geometry to the mechanical phenomena of the heavens, and raised th~ science to this great height, it became necessary to compare together things that are not of the same nature. Motion takes place irA space, it lasts for a time, it has a velocity. Space, time, velocity, have no resem.. blance to each other. If velocity is the more rapid, according as the space passed over is greater, and the time employed less, what relation have time and space with each other? Yet ~eometry can be applied only to relations and equalities. We arrive at a com- parison between things of a nature so different, by establishing for each of them a different modulus, a particular unit; and when we compare velocities, times and spaces, the comparison of each of these quantities with its particular modulus is always under- stood. We say for instance with respect to motions that are uni- form, that when tha times are equal, the spaces are as the veloci- ties. These suppositions together with a few simple principles make the basis of the science of bodies in motion, a science created by Newton, and called dynamics, but which we have here com- prehended under the general denomination of geometry.~ vol. ii. pp. 378383. Contagiou. Ejan. The other discourses of our author are distinguished by the sante original manner of thinking and writing. This jiart of the work is free from that spirit of sy~tem which pervades and mars a very considerable prop rtion of the rest. The great excellence of the whole is, that without being superib ial It is adapted to common readers and calculated to in erest them. The author selected the most striking parts of his subject, and has presented theut with great amp1ific~dion, and gteal force and beauty of language. Many may here become acquainted with the leading truths of the science, and may be made to teel their importance and sublimity with very little exertion anti little preparatory study. ART. IX..-~ Letter en the Yellow Fever of the West Indies. ~~lf Panid Osgood, ./VI. D. Practitzoner of ~4Iedicine in the city of Havana. pp.i~2. E. Bliss, New York, 1820. SINCE the notice which was taken of the subject of the contagion of yellow fever, in our number for April last, we have received still further confirmation of the general cor- rectness of the opinions which were then expressed. The circumstances connected with the appearance of this disease, in some of our cities the last summer, furnish very decisive evidence that it was not propagated by contagion. In Philadelphia, where the health regulations were last year entirely founded upon the supposition of contagion, the good effects of acting upon a contrary belief this year, while the fever prevailed there, seem to have renmvtd almost every fear of its possessing any such proper*y. If it were true that those who are affected by it communicate the disease by its contagious poison to those about them, what method could be devised more calculated to spread the disease in every direc- tion, than removing the sick, and scattering them among those in health? Yet it is well known to every one, how opposite to this was the result in Philadelphia, as it was in other places the previous year. It cann9t be doubted that it is owing to the wise precaution of removing all persons, both sick and well, from the sickly neighbourhood, that the ravages of the disease were so limited and 50 speedily check- ed. Had the same course been adopted, that was pursued in the fever of 179~3, there is much reason to apprehend that the disease would have been equally destructive.

Contagiou. Ejan. The other discourses of our author are distinguished by the sante original manner of thinking and writing. This jiart of the work is free from that spirit of sy~tem which pervades and mars a very considerable prop rtion of the rest. The great excellence of the whole is, that without being superib ial It is adapted to common readers and calculated to in erest them. The author selected the most striking parts of his subject, and has presented theut with great amp1ific~dion, and gteal force and beauty of language. Many may here become acquainted with the leading truths of the science, and may be made to teel their importance and sublimity with very little exertion anti little preparatory study. ART. IX..-~ Letter en the Yellow Fever of the West Indies. ~~lf Panid Osgood, ./VI. D. Practitzoner of ~4Iedicine in the city of Havana. pp.i~2. E. Bliss, New York, 1820. SINCE the notice which was taken of the subject of the contagion of yellow fever, in our number for April last, we have received still further confirmation of the general cor- rectness of the opinions which were then expressed. The circumstances connected with the appearance of this disease, in some of our cities the last summer, furnish very decisive evidence that it was not propagated by contagion. In Philadelphia, where the health regulations were last year entirely founded upon the supposition of contagion, the good effects of acting upon a contrary belief this year, while the fever prevailed there, seem to have renmvtd almost every fear of its possessing any such proper*y. If it were true that those who are affected by it communicate the disease by its contagious poison to those about them, what method could be devised more calculated to spread the disease in every direc- tion, than removing the sick, and scattering them among those in health? Yet it is well known to every one, how opposite to this was the result in Philadelphia, as it was in other places the previous year. It cann9t be doubted that it is owing to the wise precaution of removing all persons, both sick and well, from the sickly neighbourhood, that the ravages of the disease were so limited and 50 speedily check- ed. Had the same course been adopted, that was pursued in the fever of 179~3, there is much reason to apprehend that the disease would have been equally destructive. iatl.3 Coutagion. Ifs In New York the very rigour of their quarantine and non- intercourse system has furnished some striking proofs of its inefficiency and uselessness. Not the formidable parade of proclamations prohibiting the entrance into the cily of any person or thing, which had been within thirty days in Phila~ deIph~a, not the city marshals posted at every avenue to en- force the exclusion, nor the keenness of perception of the health physician, so sharpened by his apprehensions as to espy symptoms of yell~~w fever in the cotu~nun effects of a debauch, ould prevent the introduction ol a few cases of the disease. And yet it was not communica~ed, even to the friends and attendants of the sick. There is a curious contrast of circumstances, as they occur- red in New Yoak and in Baltimore, while the alarm of fever prevailed in Philadelphia. In the former city, while every thing coming from the seat of the disease was excluded with a vigilance worthy of a hetter cause, several cases of the fever occurred, and the whole city seemed constantly in a state of agitation ;tnd alarm; but in the latter, with no interruption to the free cotnmur~ication with Philadelphia, there appears to have been ito case of the disease, and no al)prehension or alarm. We confess we feel very little sympathy for the dis- appointment of the friends of contagion in New York, in the failure of their prohibitory schemes. Had they been willing to learn it, the occurrences of the previous year~would have taoght them the impoh(y of relying upon such means of prevention. We cannot, however, but lament their want of success in their attempt to check the progress of another dis- ease. for which it seems the quarantine system is unfortu~ nately equally ineffectual. Happy would it have been for New York, happy hr our country, had this experiment but succeeded, arid proved that the dreadful contagion of intem- perance could be destroyed by a thirty days quarantine. rl4he author of the pamphlet before us has not entered into a discussion of the question respecting the contagious nature of yellow fei er. He, however, very fully declares his opin- ion against the supposition of contagion. In an introductory letter to Dr. Perkins he says, Although, as you will perceive, I have rather avoided all con- troversial remarks4 on the identity of the disease in different coun- tries, an(l on the question whether it be from a contagious cause or not, yet I feel it my duty, so far to answer your inquiries on 1r6 Contagion. (Jan. these points, as here to state, that, regardingits character both within the tropics, and in the higher latitudes, where I have been acquainted with it, I have not been able to discover any other varieties of its symptoms, than such as 1 conceived to have arisen from the differences of constitution, exposure and treatment in those affected by it, an(l from changes in the weather. elvor have )seen an instance, during nearly twenty years constant practice in this disease, in which it appeared to me to be comrnunicate4 jVom one person to another; or of its having originated from any exposure whatever, except in places peculiarly circumstanced. p.iv. The experience of a man of observation, during so long and extensive a course of practice, might j ustly be relied upon as of iiiuch authority in a question of this sort, and were it not for the overflowing abundance of proof, of ~ more positive nature, of the absence of contagion. in thia disease, we might quote this declaration as a farther confir- mation of the correctness of our positions. The principal design of this pamphlet appears to be to give the observations which the authors practice has enabled him to make on the symptoms and character of the yellow fever and the mode of treatment best adapted to it. As the nature of the disease has been so fully investigated and described by a great variety of physicians, much originality were not to be expected, especially as the author has not accompanied his description by any dissections, by way of illustration of its character. It is in this more than in any other particular, that our knowledge of the phenomena of the disease is defi- cient. The description of the symptoms and cure is clear and satisfactory. One feels as he reads it, that the author is relating what he has himself seen and done, and not what he has learned from others. Probably few physicians of the present day would entirely agree with our author, as to the causes of yellow fever. His account of the manner in which these causes operate to pro- duce the disease is in true Brunonian style. In situations, he remarks, and under circumstances before described, as exposing to the yellow fever, the subjects experi- ence, for a while, an increased excitement in all the organs of the body, whether animal, natural, or vital; expending the excita- bility equally throignout the whole system ; but subsequently the stimulus of heat, & c. acting directly on the organs of the vital 1821.] Contagion, 177~ functions, continues to support their increased excitement, while the organs of the animal and natural functions have their excita- bility still wasted, without a proportionate supply of the same stimuli. This state of tile system clearly constitutes the disease in its more moderate -degree ; but when the malignant form oc- curs, it happens from an early derangement in all the functions together, by a direct exhaustion of the general excitability. p. 26. It is unnecessary, although it would be easy, to show how far this is from an exj)laliatioii of the phenomena of the dis- ease. By far the most important part of this treatise, in our view, is the section on the Prevention of the yellow fever. Thousands of persons go from this country and other ternpe~ rate climates to the West Indies, and are there cut oil in a Bhort time by this formidable (lisease. Many of these lives might doubtless be saved, it a proper course of regimen were followed, during the earijee period of their exposure in a tro~ pical climate. We could wish that some person as well qual ifled for the task, as the author of this letter, might be induced to pursue this subject fuwther~ in a form adapted to tne situation of the classes of people most nearly interested in it. It is not to j)hysicians, but to merchants and seamen that such a work should be chiefly addressed. It should therefore be a distinct treatise, and independent of all such speculati.~ns as are interesting only to physicians. Such a treatise if jwoperly executed, we are persuaded would be ex- tensively useful, and furnish an ample remuneration for the labours of its author. Appended to the letter of Dr. Osgood is an extract of a letter from Cyrus Perkins M. D. city of New York, on the distinction between contagion and infection. Atthough we are not quite satisfied with the common use of the term infre- Lion, ~e are not disposed to question the general accuracy of this gentlemans opinion on the subject. But there is one remark ~lmich appears to us entitled to a more distinct notice. For my own part, he says, although I early made LII) an opinion on the subject, I never had so chivalrous a disposi~ tion as to enter the lists for making proselytes. And I have often thought, that, if the disputants by way of I)relirninary, Were first to agree on a precise definition of terms, they would find but little left to dispute about. .New Series, .~Th. 5. 23 178 The Histor~~ of Grecian Art. LJau. Although we claim to ourselves no credit for heroism, in the free disclosure of our views on this important subject. yet we do not much wonder that the timidity of the author on this point should lead him to regard it as an effort of chivalry to declare an opinion on this qnestion in New York, where the denial of the doctrine of contagion would scarcely fail to subject him to illiberal sarcasti. and personal abuse in the public papers of that city. But we cannot agree with him that the discussion of this question is a mere dispute about words. It is true that the word contagion has often been lotsely and inaccurately used. Still, whatever meaning may be attached to the term, the question remains, whether the yellow fever is disseminated by some property which is gen- erated by the disease itself, or arises in each individual case from some cause, independent of the previous existence of the disease. And this question is of immense practical im- portance. Every measure of protection against the ravages of this desolating epidemic is deeply affected by it; and the propriety of~the measure in determined by the correctness. of the answerto the question. It is not aquestioii of words merely~ whether we are still ~to rely upon qvarantines, and lazaretto~, ~n4 non-intercourse, as our safeguard, or to seek out ~nd remove such local objects as contaminate the purity of the atmosphere. It is not a question of words only, wheth~~r we may safely receive into our families those who are fleeing from before the pestilence, or whether we shall shut our doors upon~ them, lest we should share their danger of becoming its victims. ART. X,Veber die Epochen der bildenden ICanst isnter den Griechen. Von Friederzck Thiersck, Zwegte Jibhandlung, die Epoche der ICunstentwicklung enthattend. Mime hen 1819. On the Epochs of the plastic .drt among the Greeks, by Frederic Th?ersch. The second essay containing the periods of the development of the art. A memoir read in a public meeting of the Royal Academy of Sciences at .Municl& , Oct. 12, 1819, on occasion of the birth day of his .Majesty the King. 4to. pp. 76.* We have taken the liberty in this article to use the expression the Art in a sense which, though not common in English, is familiar on the continent, which will sufficiently define itself when it occurs, and which avoidsasa inconvenient periphrasis.

178 The Histor~~ of Grecian Art. LJau. Although we claim to ourselves no credit for heroism, in the free disclosure of our views on this important subject. yet we do not much wonder that the timidity of the author on this point should lead him to regard it as an effort of chivalry to declare an opinion on this qnestion in New York, where the denial of the doctrine of contagion would scarcely fail to subject him to illiberal sarcasti. and personal abuse in the public papers of that city. But we cannot agree with him that the discussion of this question is a mere dispute about words. It is true that the word contagion has often been lotsely and inaccurately used. Still, whatever meaning may be attached to the term, the question remains, whether the yellow fever is disseminated by some property which is gen- erated by the disease itself, or arises in each individual case from some cause, independent of the previous existence of the disease. And this question is of immense practical im- portance. Every measure of protection against the ravages of this desolating epidemic is deeply affected by it; and the propriety of~the measure in determined by the correctness. of the answerto the question. It is not aquestioii of words merely~ whether we are still ~to rely upon qvarantines, and lazaretto~, ~n4 non-intercourse, as our safeguard, or to seek out ~nd remove such local objects as contaminate the purity of the atmosphere. It is not a question of words only, wheth~~r we may safely receive into our families those who are fleeing from before the pestilence, or whether we shall shut our doors upon~ them, lest we should share their danger of becoming its victims. ART. X,Veber die Epochen der bildenden ICanst isnter den Griechen. Von Friederzck Thiersck, Zwegte Jibhandlung, die Epoche der ICunstentwicklung enthattend. Mime hen 1819. On the Epochs of the plastic .drt among the Greeks, by Frederic Th?ersch. The second essay containing the periods of the development of the art. A memoir read in a public meeting of the Royal Academy of Sciences at .Municl& , Oct. 12, 1819, on occasion of the birth day of his .Majesty the King. 4to. pp. 76.* We have taken the liberty in this article to use the expression the Art in a sense which, though not common in English, is familiar on the continent, which will sufficiently define itself when it occurs, and which avoidsasa inconvenient periphrasis. 1821.] The Ilistortj of Grecian Art. THERE is nothing perhaps, in which our country is so plainly deficient, as the means of pursuing the study of the sub~ject, which is treated in this memoir; we might perhaps say, in general, as in the state of the flue arts. We have produced, it is true, some of the most celebrated modern painters, and have been able to retain some of them in their native land. To hae given birth to West and Copley, and to possess Stuart and Allston, is certainly to have contri.. buted our share and more than our share to the painting of the age. But this is not all, which we want, even for this one department of the arts. Public collections of the great masters and valuable cabinet pieces from their immOrtal pen- cils are unknown among us; and of course the acquisition of the liberal ideas awakened by their inspection and study, forms no part of a finished education in our country. it would be preposterous to charge that upon us as a wan- ton neglect, or a piece of voluntary vandalism, which is wholly unavoidable. It is well known that pictures of any considerable interest are not to be bought in Europe, except by mere chance, and at enormous prices: and though great estates are certainly acquired in our country, yet it must be remembered that they are charged with a burden, unknown in the feudal families of the old world, the custom of an equal distribution among a family of children. One picture of Raphael would exceed in price a sons patrimony or a daughters portion, in the richest family of the United States. A hundred years ago, the little Corregio at Dresden, a pic- ture not a foot square, was sold for 18,000 gold ducats, and when a certain powerful monarch told the~Duke of Tuscany that he would give him 8000 crowns for the Madonna della Seggiola at Florence, the duke replied that for another such picture, he would give his majesty 80,000. The small pic- ture of Acteon belonging to the late Mr. West and ascribed to Titian, but which we have high authority for doubting to be that mastei~s, it is fresh in the knowledge of our readers, sold for about 8000 dollars; while Mr. West refused 50,000 for his own last picture but one. In this state of things, it is evident that the people of America must give up the home- ly practice of making more than one child comfortable in the world, or they must say with the mother of the Gracchi, these are my pictures ~ and let the Titians and the Raphacis remain in Europe. 1& (1 1ke Hiskng qf 0recknz Sirt~ [3an. F~orn another great source we are also cut off, from which the public collections and the galleries of the great have sometimes been ~repleuished in Europe. Our armies have had no Aus~nian, no Andalusian regions to sweep. Fr*~ni our contests with the Seminoles and Winnebagoes, we bring back nothing better than hard blows, and cessions of wilul lands, and return from arduous campaigns without pic- ture or statue. This certainly is not our fault, bitt the in- herent vice of the warfare: and of those abroad who reproach us for not coming back from Iippecanoe or Pensacola, a~ richly laden with ~vorks of art as a French army from Italy, or an English general from Spain, we can only ask whether they think this is voluntary on our part, and say as Dem8s- thenes did to the Atheu~ians of Philip: Is there any :.ne so foolish as to SUl)PO5~ that Philip really prefers the beans and vftfhes of the miserable ijilages of rllhrace, to the Atheniah mines and arsenals? This oly we think we can answer for, that there is already taste enough in our country to prize such precious booty should any cl:ance of war thrGw it in our power, though there would be respectable p. ecedents foi being insensible to theit worth. flonest Mummius, whQ sack- ed Corinth, has perhaps been laughed at too much, for telling the soldiers, to whom he gave in charge the pictures of Par- rhasius, that if they inju red or lost them, they should restore others as good. Ar least there seems a milder species of barbarism in this, than prevailed in the almy of the illustri- Ous Gustavus Adolphus, that Lion of the North whom Major Dalgetty has so extensively introduced to our readers, ~ hose refined Swedes c.~the pictures of Corregio from their frames, to cover their baggage wagons ~vithal; which said pictures, that they might do every possible service, were afterwards nailed up, to keep the snow out of her majesty of Swedens stables. For all which proot~s of interest in the arts, the hon- est Swvdes have been remembered by the amateurs, in much the same affectionate ~ ay, that the rocket-maker at Alcala, who wrought up the Greek manuscripts of the Complutensian polx glott, into cartridges for his fireworks, has been remem- hered by the biblical critics. But though it must be confessed that we are deficiei4 in the means of forming or diffusing a highly cultivated taste in painting in our country, something may yet be hoped, something may gradually be done, even in the ancient school; 1821.] iAe history of (~redan JIrt. 1~31 while the modern realty bids fair to flourish among us. With regard to ancient pictures. a few occasionally find and will find their way to our shores: and we have observed with great pleasure, that the exhibitions at Philadelphia have sometimes been enriched by the loan of valuable specimens of the ancient masters trout the gall~ry of the distinguished stranger, in that neighbourhood, who probably possesses more treasures of this description, than are to he found throughout the rest of the United States. Small pictures of interest of the Dutch school are not very rare among us, and whatever of this kind does reach our shores is happily likely to remain. At least, we hope, that the calculation, which not many years ago exported two reputed pictures of Salva- toe Rosa from America~ to London, will not be often repeated. The modern school of painting, as we have said, bids fair to flourish among us, and that not merely from flattering pretty faces and appealing to personal vanity, but in the historic department of time art. We hope we do not go out of our Way to l~5Y a compliment to our fellow citizen, who has now founded upon a series of works; ~that have ~tood the ~test of English and of American criticism, the reputation of being the first historical painter living. We ~hdul~ beglad to have the work of Cammucini at Rome, or Girard at Paris, ex~ David at Brussels indicated, that deserves to he preferred to Mr. Allstons Uriel, Jacobs Vision, or Jeremiah. In Eng- lan(l, certainly he has left behind him no rival in this branch of his art. In architecture and statuary, the two other great depart.. ments of the art, little has been done among us of an original character: more in architecture, as might have been expect- ed, than in statuary, since we must have houses, cli urches,~ cat)itols, and theatres. But little as we have done upon the whole, we have perhaps even here done our share. Modern Europe has produced scarce a building, which is approved by nice judges. Each nev architect seems inspired with a zeal to add one more to the list of buildings in false taste, Whi h he with all the ~vorld condemns; and when one has wan- demed through the streets of Rome, and gazed on the theatric.. at curves, and false fronts of Borrornini, built up almost un~ tier thc shadow of the Pantheon, it seems an undue severity to sneer at our transatlantic rudeness. St. Peters itself is the glory and shame of the art. An edifice of ordinary dimen 182 Tke Histor~of Gredan Art. [Jane sions, a common parish church, which should retain in exact miniature the proportions, and plan of St. Peters, would have no claim to the praise of extraordinary beauty. It is the power of man, piliog these wonderful masses in the air, sus- pending a cupola of a hundred and t~ enty feet diameter, and of sides twenty-two feet in thickness, at a distance of three or. four huiidred feet from the ground, and finding he means to~ resist this portentous gravitation ; it is this, and the brazeii columns of the canopy, the ample walls incrusted with beauti- ful marbles, the vast extent of the edifice, whose side chapels accommodate a worshipping congregation; the curious Mosa- ics wilh which it is lined; the gorgeous monuments and - mausokums of popes, and princes, and fugitive sovereigns; the reputed ashes of apostles and martyrs in the ~aults; the banks of the Tiber, on which it stands. and a portion of that enthusiasm, which clings to the name of Rome; with the re- membrance of the labours of centuries, and the treasures of kingdoms exhausted on the mighty pile; it is ~hI this, ~ h~ch con- tributes not a little to the admiration with which St. Peters is viewed. But this belongs to the region 9~sentiment, or associa- tion, and not the arts. It is mech4 nics and not architecture, the powers of enginery, not the principles of taste which piled the dome of St. Peters on pillars, each as large as a common house. This is not the architecture which we wish to have in our country. The Egyptians had more of it, when they roll.. ed their colossal stones up the sides of the pyramids. The Druids on Salisbury plain had as much, when they pile(l up the enormous masses of Stone-henge, unless we helieve Inigo Jones, who saith in his work on that para(loxical fragment of antiquity, that ~vith good engines and by the grace of God, he could raise stones as great or greater. In fact, we think, that the remark of Visconti ~vjth regard to St. Peters, diffident a~ we should feel in contradicting any serious opinion of that il- lustrious archainlogist, has scarce any merit, but its smart- ness. It is well known that St. Peters requires for its pre- servation considerable annual repairs. The foiandation under the front, notwithstanding the etlorts which have been made, at various times, to strengthen it, was from the first so imper- fectly laid. that a large crack runs up and down one of the gigantic pilasters or rather pillars of the front. The cupola also has opened in several places. To prevent the increase ot these defects, constant repairs are necessary. Wheli 18~1.] The Histor~j of Grectan dirt. 185 in the severe French times, it was represented to Visconti, who had the charge of the public buildings, that it St. Peters wete not repaired at considerable expense, it would fall, lie coolly replied, that it would make a fine ruin. As it stands, it is a venerable, an awful building. The heart bows down, betore its majestic front, and feels as feeble as it ought in the temple of the Most High, as you wander along beneath the sublime arches of the juterior, or turn a dizzy gaze upward to the dome. But a fine ruin it would not make. Once fallen, let the earthquakes, whit h for two thousand years have left the Parthenon and the temple of Theseus, as they found them,..-let them but shake out the key-stones of the dome or the nave of St. Peters, and what have you but a chaos of uncouth and shapeless ruins, without one graceful column to rise above, and bear ~vitness to what had been ; without one beautifmsl marbh capital, over which an enthusiast could meditate, tioth- big but a broken quarry of coarse calcareous rock? The an- cient ruins are beautiful; the lapse of time, the convulsions of nature, the storms of war, the violence of the barbarians, have not impaired theirbeauty. The inmost stone of (hedark- est corner of the cell of the Parthenon presents a smooth p0!- ished surface of beautiful white marble. So long as one fluted fragment of a doric column remains on the spot where that tern- pie stood, it will be as impossible to doubt the beauty of the ex- Ituisite ~t ructure to which it belonged,as the first morning that the scaffolds were thrown down, and the work of Phidias and Icti- nus stood glittering and blazing in a Grecian sun. It was built nearly four hundred and fifty years before Christ, and much we doubt there were small appropriations to keep it in repair, after the Roman yoke of iron fell upon Athens, or in the night of the middle ages. In 1686, it went through the trifling or- deal of being bombarded with red hot shot by the Venetian cannon, and having a powder magazine within its walls blown up; and even after this, the columns which sul)port the front are less shattered than the false pillars of the fa9ade of St. Peters, which are cracking from their own weight and the weakness of the foundation. If then the proudest edifices of modern art can scarce bear a comparison with the Grecian ruins, what will the former appear, when time and violence have done theirwork upon them; when the marbles that incrust them are stripped off; when their ponderous arches are fallen; nd in their inner stracture, instead of polished blocks 184 [~Fan. The Histor~j ~ grecian art. of Pentelican marble, nothing will appear to testify to their former glory, but a base chaos of unseemly stones, filled up with bricks and pozzolana. But ~ie have been betrayed beyond our design. We meant to maintain here not the inferiority of modern masonry and workmanship, but of modern taste; though we suppose it all hangs together, and has its origin in the same superficial theatrical character in the modern world, which has taken place of the ancient solidity. The eximple of Michael Au~ gem, in the wonder of St. Peters, has proved a rock on which the taste of his successors has split, who have been tar more anxious to imitate him than the chaster Palladio. Acti rig on a small sphere, where it was impossible to give their works that in which the power and glory of his reside, their portentous magnitude and grandeur, they have copied the inherent faults of his style; supported their little roofs with ungraceful arcades: and led away by an impatient desire, still farther to ,innov~te and be original, they have falIe~ degrees into the fantastic vagaries oh the school of Borromini, and fitted tip the front of a church like Fatimas arbor, in the jarce, or the entrance to a t~a garden. Each new school, and new generation has shown itself equally fruitful in reproaches or its predecessors arid new errors of its own; arid e~en Mi- lizia, whose theory is so severe and classical, when enployed himself to direct the repairs of a Roman church, is said to have done nothing, which was not in contradiction to his own rules. There are perhaps therefore in our country as many buildings in a good taste as could proportionally be demanded of us. There are not many palacesin Europe, ~ith which the Pres- idents house at Washington might not well bear a compari- son, for its design; though we have to regret that we are tin- able ~o extend this commendation to the magnificent pile, which is erecting on the hill, about a mile from it. The inte- rior indeed of the national capitol, the senate and representa- tives chamber are quite the finest public halls we have ever had an opportunity or seeing; and whatever may be said of the proportions of the columns in the latter, or the adaptation of the apartment to the purposes of a deliberative assembly, it is, we doubt not, the most splendid public hall in the world; and it is much to be regretted that motives of convenience make it necessary to mar its grandeur. by so unseemly an pendage as the canopy to the speakers chair. The s~uate 1~1.] 2ke History of Grecian dirt. 185 chamber, though less imposing, is perhaps still more agreea- ble to the eye; nor is St. Stephens or the chambei~ of the dvputies at Paris to be compared a moment with either of them. The hail of the assembly at Cassel, iitted up in the W~stpha- han reign. is one of the tinesi legislative chambers in Europe, thougo lmke1~, we fear, to be of little practical use to the by- ins subjects of his present royal highness, the elector. The new church in Baltimore, the Pennsylvania bank in Philadel- phia, with the United States bank, if finished according to its plan, with the front of St. Pauls in Boston, are all quite equal to, and some of them beyond the best specimens of mod- ern European architecture, and worthy to be compared with the church of St. Genevie~ eat Paris, which without being igno- rant of the objections made to it, we are free to confess more agreeable to our eyes than any modern building, which 110W occurs to us. Iii the modern Gothi we~are poor in America, if any thing could deserve the name of rich, in this application. For though it is impossible not to be delighted ~vith such an edifice ~ Eaton hail, near Chester, yet, at~er ~Wthe modern Gotli- ic is a sort of theatrical taste, which we are unable wholly to approve; so much at variance does it seem with the spirit of the age. For the genuine Gothic we have an unmingled veneration; the Gothic of York mm ster, of the chapel of Kings College Cambridge, of the cathedrals at Cologne and Amiens, and the exterior of the cathedral at Milan. It is impossible not to be filled with reverence at the sight of any of these. Next to the Grecian, we hold the (lid Gothic to be far the most pure and noble of all the styles of architecture; and it is a singular mark of liberality and good ju(lgment in Milizia, when one cons.ders the extreme dislike of the Italians to this style, that he unequivocally gives it the preference to any of the ancient or modern Roman innovations on the Greek pu- rity. It is not to be placed on a level with the Greek, because the Greek excels it in the merits which are common to both, and which make the beauty of both, in its l)lain surfaces aiid majestic colonnades; and because the finical ornament, into which the Gothic runs, is wholly at variance with the simnpli- city, which is, after all, its characteristic principle. There are, moreover, some blemishes in the Gothic, which arise from association. A buttress, bo~ ever the e~ e by habit may grow fond of it in antiquated buildings, when considered as mm .New Series, Sb. 5. 24 186 The History of Grecian .drt. [Jan. unwieldy substitu~e for skilful masonry, and as a contrivance to keep the v~ ails from fatling apart, is no pleasant object for the eye. In statuary, we fear our account stands less fairly than in either of the other arts; nor do we yet seem~to have caught the spirit So extensively prevailing in Europe for this admirable 5rt. Fifty years ago, arid so low had the art sunk in Europe, with perhaps the single exception of Roubiliac in ~ftgland, that it would have been not a shame but a glory to l~ave borne no part in the prevailing taste. But in nothin& has the present generation so closely imitated the Greeks~ ~nd in nothing has it come so near rivalling them. The mas- ters have at length, as it should seem, discovered, that tQ equal the ancients, it is re9uisite, not to hit upon some new fouii which may lay claim to the worthless boast of fantastic originality, but to go beyond them, in that direction, whicti so bog and bright an experience had proved to be the true one. The good modern statuary is indeed wholly in Grecian taste; that of Canova less so than that of his rival Thor- waldsen, whose taste iowever is not so delicate as it is severer and who fatigues y~u with a certain nQrtltern heaviness in his forms. Chanteys style ispurel~ Greek, that is, purely na~ tural, as nature was ob~erved in a lovely climate, in ~ free country, among an athletic, cheerful race of men, trained to healthy gymnastic exercises, and among whom the arts were crowned with the most princely rewards. it i~ not an adraii~ rable style because it is Grecian, but because it is natural; natural, not according to the vulgar nature of the wretch who is hired as a subject for the drawing room of the artist, but ac- cording to the nature of the most refined and polished commu- nity that ever existed. It detracts nothing from the justice of our remark of Mr. Chantrys style, that he happens tznluckily to be led away by a sound; arid thinks it necessary to clothe the woiks of his classical chisel in the motley fashions of the day. His taste and skill are equal to the triumph over the obstacles which his theory of costume imposes, and he knows how to make his modern English coats and small clothes cling to the form and reveal its proportions, almost as fully as they would have been disclosed by the ancients. It is amus- in~ enough, to be sure, to hear such modern costume as this, snch ideal tailoring, recommended upon the score of its being true to life; ~hem, if Mr. Homer had come into parliament with such a suit of clothes and such a gown, as Mr. Chan 18~1.] Tke History,. of Grecian ..qrt. 1~8T try has put upon him, he would have excited nearly as much surprise, as if a Roman or Grecian had risen up before them in his robes. it is sincerely to be regretted that we have not more means among us for forming a taste for the antique, and for the study of the beautiful remains of Grecian art It may~ cer- tainly be maintained, without exaggeration, that these beau- tiful remains are the most authentic legacy, which we have received from the glorious world that went before us. The ad- inirable writings, which have descended to us from them, are indeed invaluable. It elevates the spirit to think that you are perusing the works of the great masters of wisdom, and poetry, and learning, from ages so long elapsed. But it is impossible to know perfectly more than one tongue, and the mind struggles too often in vain against the obstacles of a difficult language. The imagination too faints under the mass of illustrative learning, which is necessary for the perfect comprehension of their works, and we are mortified at being obliged to turn from pages, which we know once enchained the attention~oT the politest and most. accomplished heares, with a sort of misty veil before our minds, which we cannot draw away, and which gives a vagueness to all that is seen through iti But a beautiful temple, or column of a temple, or ancient statue, or relievo, is an object on which we can gaze with all the freshness both of sense and emotion, that belonged to the age of its production. There is no medium of anoth- er language through which we must penetrate ; and with the exception of a few points, in regard to which the modern taste has essentially departed from the ancient, we are prepared te see such a work, as it was seen by the ancients themselves. Hence the well founded enthusiasm which grows out of the study of these remains of antiquity. It need not be said that the insensibility to this species of beauty and the want of that deeper and finer insight into the whole ancient character, which results from this insensibility, are great defects in our education in this country; defects that call aloud for remedy. There are now preserved in the World some scores of most beautiful ancient works. Though of single and separate statues, scarce any thing has escaped the ravages of time, which bears authentically the most illus- trious names of antiquity, yet something there is even of this highest order, and a large succession of other works of admi C1~e IIistor~ of f~reeian:.q,t.~ Uau rable beauty. These, in t eir originals, we cannot of course have. All the resources of Europe, wielded by the mighty arm of N apoleon, were able to win from their Italian abodes, but for a short season, the choice works of the ancient chisel. After a stn~rt sojourn at Paris, the Apollo, and the Venus, and the Lao~ coozi ha~ e gone back to Florence and Rome. But of all the works of ancient art fine casts in plaster exist, in no degree in- ferior to the originals, for the common purposes of taste, and quite as valuable a