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stirring a step from our chimney corner to mineralize in Siberia and botanize in Kamchatcha.

He travels and I too: I tread his deck; Ascend his top-mast; through his peering

eyes

Discover countries; with a kindred heart Suffer his woes and share in his escapes; While fancy, like the finger of a clock, Runs the great circle, and is still at home. If poor Barry were alive, he would undoubtedly introduce Dr. Clarke in his picture of the Thames, floating among the Naiads behind Dr. Burney, with three goodly quartos under each arm. Have the phrenolo gists examined his brows? If they have not laid their finger on the organ of space, we predicate the downfal and the death-blow of the system. He was marked out from infancy as an explorer of earth's surface, her cities, her ruins, and her deserts, and a discoverer of her hidden treasures. The learned augured ill of him, and even now stand helpless and astounded at the fallacy of their prognostications and the miracle of their pupil's fame. He had real learning, and such as they wot not of. He kept aloof from the spell of "Mars, Bacchus, Apollo, virorum:" he tarried not in amorous dalliance with the triangles: lines equilateral and figures curvilinear sought in vain to entangle him in their embracements. His heart was with the products of the mine: with the "cedar of Lebanon and the hyssop on the wall:" among medals blue with the rust of centuries, and marbles, which the finger of past generations had traced with barbaric characters. His destination coincided with the bent of his nature. He seems a personification of the locomotive energies inherent in man: "he puts a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes:" we see him in Italy; he is off to the Hebrides and Highlands: turns up in Lapland: looks in at Moscow: baits at Constantinople: is seen again on the plain of old Troy: we catch a glimpse of him in the holy sepulchre: he dodges us again at the great Pyramid: we seek him at Cairo, but "ere he starts a thousand steps are

lost:" he is already at Vienna, and lights on Montmartre: credulity itself is staggered when we find him at last settled down into a Benedict and living in a cock-chafer box, close packed up with his wife and children."

Bodily activity and animal spirits were not all that he carried with him. The mind was busy, the fancy alive, the heart warm, the pen eloquent. He describes with the graphic stroke of a master artist: he notes down his traits of men and their manners with the humour of a Smollett: we do not mean his ill-humour. The travels in Russia were thought not civil enough: not reverential enough, we should rather say; there was a great stock of admiration then in the country as respected the character and customs of the Muscovites. To find fault with their clothes or their cookery was to give room for a shrewd suspicion of a man's loyalty. Perhaps we have a little recovered out of this warm fancy: if we have not, the time will come. There was confessedly a tendency to the satirical in Dr. Clarke. We remember we thought him rather hard on the table-manners of the Greeks: their mode of washing after dinner: the fine airs of their ladies in displaying their well-rounded arms during the ceremony, &c. "They who have glass windows," the proverb is somewhat musty: but there was scarcely a circumstance-nay, there was positively not a single one, which in the hands of a smart French traveller might not have been paralleled, with a very slight shade of difference, in the manners of a London table; and this has actually taken place. From a personage who so nearly arrived at the secret of ubiquity as Dr. Clarke, we should naturally have looked for a tolerant indulgence of the customs of foreigners, or even barbarians. His heart, however, was in the right place: he would not have hurt a hair of a Greek's head. These sarcastic details were prompted by a talent for biting humour, not always indicative of a narrow benevolence, and by that keen perception of the ludicrous, which is found to

Compare with Dr. Clarke's description of a Greek dining-room the dinner of Mr. D. in "Quinze jours à Londres."

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1824.

The Life and Remains of the Rev. E. D. Clarke, LLD.

reside with a volatile imagination.
All doubt of Dr. Clarke's loyalty,
arising out of his want of fondness
for Russians, must, we think, be
wholly removed by his sturdy denial
of any good being effected, either in
posse or in esse, by "those demons
the democrats;" as well as by the
passage containing an eulogium on
the character of the English clergy
and the religious qualities of our late
Sovereign, to which we cheerfully
subscribe; but which the editor, for
some unaccountable reason, has
chosen to place in staring capitals,
as if it were a discovery dragged up
by means of a pully from the bottom
of that well, in which they say truth
resides. Were we to indulge a poetic
flight, we might calculate on Clarke's
spirit being soothed by the check now
so happily given to the fiendish offi-
ciousness of republican innovators,
particularly in Italy: the blood of
St. Januarius, the God of Naples,
continues to be liquefied without in-
terruption, and the royal pig-hunt
proceeds in peace.

The biographer, Mr. Otter, has
shown his judgment in making the
bulk of the book consist in extracts
from Clarke's journals and corres-
pondence; and in what respects the
particulars of his private life, he has
exercised a delicate, and even sensi-
tive, impartiality. Perhaps there
is a little too much of lamentation at
his friend's "truant disposition," and
a little tediousness bestowed upon
the reader in weighing the pro and
con of college erudition. Vicesimus
Knox, the popular essayist and the
master of Tunbridge school, was
Clarke's tutor: he was one of those
who, as may be seen from one of his
essays, prodigiously over-rated the
value of classical attainments. It is
not surprising that he shook his
head at the discouraging progress of
a boy, whose abilities were yet suffi-
ciently great to puzzle his prognos-
tics and interest his concern. That
the report of his deficient applica-
tion should, as the editor thinks, ap-
pear extraordinary to "many of those
who have witnessed the laborious
habits of his latter days," is very pro-
bable; it will not appear so to those
who recollect that Samuel Johnson
was an idle lounger in the sunshine,
with ragged shoes and a circle of
truant hearers. We do not quote

395

such instances as safe examples: but
it is in science and learning as in war:
success is the test. All à priori reason-
ing is invalid when we can argue from
facts and place our foot on the terra
firma of experience. The biogra-
pher talks indeed of the "precious
years of boyhoodand of youth," which
are usually dedicated to the acquisi-
tion of fundamental truths and to the
establishment of method and order
in the mind, being "by him wasted
in unseasonable pursuits:" but how
is it proved from the results that
they were unseasonable? That Clarke
himself "felt sensibly, and regretted
most forcibly the disadvantages ac-
cruing to him in after life from the
neglect in his earlier years of the or-
dinary school studies," are mere for-
mal words of course that prove no-
thing: no man is the best judge of
that educational process which would
best have suited him. Of the alleged
"defective knowledge of principles "
we can say nothing, for we do not
know what is meant: still less can
we comprehend how such a defi-
ciency should be "an error singular-
ly aggravated by the analytical pro-
cess he usually adopted in all the
acquisitions both in language and
science:" the process, in short, by
which, and by which alone we can
arrive at truth. Notwithstanding
the continued uneasiness of the editor
of Clarke's Remains at "his little pro-
gress in the appropriate studies of
the place," we can see much that is
"seasonable," because adapted to
the sphere in which nature had des-
tined him to move, in the studies to
which he voluntarily applied himself,
and which embraced history, ancient
and modern, medals, antiquities, and
natural philosophy, especially the mi-
neralogical branch. One of his recrea-
tions at Cambridge was the con-
structing and sending up a splendid
balloon to the admiration of his bro-
ther collegians and his own delight.
Sad fellow! the truth was, he was
always agile and earnest in the pursuit
of science, and left the word-conners
to their "As in præsenti." It may be
difficult to conjecture with the editor
"what might have been the effect
of a different training upon such a
mind;" we may, perhaps hazard a
guess, that instead of looking out on
the sea of Azoff, he would have
pored himself half-blind in an inge

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nious re-construction of the Greek choral metres.

Let us see how nature set to work with him.

in

Having upon some occasion accompanied his mother on a visit to a relation's house in Surrey, he contrived, before the hour of their return, so completely to stuff every part of the carriage with stones, weeds, and other natural productions of that country, then entirely new to him, that his mother, upon entering, found herself embarrassed how to move; and, though the most indulgent creature alive to her children, she was constrained, in spite of the remonstrances of the boy, to eject them one by one from the window. For one package, however, carefully wrapped up many a fold of brown paper, he pleaded so hard, that he at last succeeded in retaining it; and when she opened it at night, after he had gone to sleep, it was found to contain several greasy pieces of half-burnt reeds, such as were used at that time in the farmers' kitchens in Surrey, instead of candles; which he said, upon inquiry, were specimens of an invention, that could not fail of being of service to some poor old woman of the parish, to whom he could easily communicate how they were prepared.

Another childish circumstance, which occurred about the same time, is worthy of recital; not only because it indicates strongly the early prevalence of the spirit to which we have alluded, but because it accounts in some measure for the extraordinary interest he took throughout his life in the manners and the fortunes of gypsies. At this period, his eldest brother was residing with his relations at Chichester; and, as his father's infirm state of health prevented him from seeing many persons at his house, Edward was permitted frequently to wander alone in the neighbourhood, guarded only by a favourite dog, called Keeper. One day, when he had stayed out longer than usual, an alarm was given that he was missing: search was made in every direction, and hour after hour elapsed without any tidings of the child. At last, his old nurse, who was better acquainted with his haunts, succeeded in discovering him in a remote and rocky valley, above a mile from his father's house, surrounded by a group of gypsies, and deeply intent upon a story which one of them was relating to him. (P. 26.) What those attractive objects were, which thus engrossed the attention of Edward Clarke, to the manifest injury of his classical progress, it is difficult for us to know but that some of them at least re

ferred to popular experiments in chemistry and electricity may be clearly inferred from several humourous exhibitions, which he used to make in his father's house, during the holidays; to the entertainment, and

sometimes to the dismay, of the neighbours and servants, who were always called in, upon those occasions, to witness the wonders of his art. In the pursuit of these experiments, it is remembered that he used, in spite of the remonstrances of the cook, to seize upon tubs, pots, and other utensils from his father's kitchen, which were often seriously damaged in his hands; and that, with a thick and nauseous cloud of fuming on one occasion, he surprised his audience sulphureous acid; insomuch that, alarmed and half-suffocated, they were glad to make their escape in a body, as fast as they could. It does not appear, however, that his attachment to these sedentary pursuits prevented him from partaking in the active pleasures and amusements which were suited to his age, and in which his light with considerable strength, was calculated and compact figure, uniting great agility to make him excel. Every sort of game and exertion, he was ever foremost to set or sport, which required manliness of spirit running, jumping, and swimming, he was on foot, and ever ready to join; but in particularly expert. (P. 32.)

Such was his education. The results are the volumes of his Travels and the invention of the Gas Blow Pipe.

We shall not draw up a dry biographical memoir. The reader is referred to the book itself for dates and genealogies. One curious fact of a noble house," all the sons were we shall mention, that as it was said brave and all the daughters virtuous," it may be affirmed of Clarke's ancestry that they were all eminent for letters. His great grandfather was Wotton, the author of the Essay on Ancient and Modern Learning. Dr. Clarke was born in 1769, at Willingdon in Sussex, and died in 1822. He may be said to have "felt the ruling passion strong in death;" for his dissolution seems to have been accelerated by the chemical experiments in which he employed himself preparatory to a course of lectures in mineralogy. A bust of him was executed by Chantry, and prefixed to this volume there is a spirited etching from a painting by Opie.

The facilities which Dr. Clarke enjoyed, in visiting Scotland and the Continent, were opened to him, as is well known, by his filling the situation of private tutor to the honourable Berkeley Paget, and subsequently to Mr. Cripps. had, however, previously visited Italy as a companion to Lord Ber

He

wick. The present work traces his several tours by his own notes and letters, which, as containing many incidents and descriptions not included in the published travels, are properly supplementary to them. Some of the extracts are not at all inferior to his best and liveliest sketches. We are tempted to give one; it is in a letter to his mother, dated from Enontakis, in Lapland, July 29, 1799.

We have found the cottage of a priest, in this remote corner of the world, and have been snug with him, a few days. Yesterday I launched a balloon, eighteen feet in height, which I had made to attract the natives. You may guess their astonishment, when they saw it rise from the earth.

Is it not famous to be here, within the

frigid zone? More than two degrees within the arctic, and nearer to the pole than the most northern shores of Iceland? For a long time darkness has been a stranger to

us.

The sun, as yet, passes not below the horizon; but he dips his crimson visage behind a mountain to the north. This

mountain we ascended, and had the satisfaction to see him make his curtsey, with out setting. At midnight the priest of the place lights his pipe, during three weeks in the year, by means of a burning-glass, from the sun's rays.

We have been driving rein-deer in sledges. Our intention is to penetrate, if possible, into Finmark, as far as the source of the Alten, which falls into the icy sea. We are now at the source of the Muonio in Tornea Lapmark. I doubt whether any map you can procure will show you the spot. Perhaps you may find the name of the place, Enontakis. Well, what idea have you of it? Is it not a fine town? sashed windows, and streets paved and lighted French theatres-shops-and public buildings? I'll draw up the curtain -now see what it is! A single hut, constructed of the trunks of fir-trees, rudely hewn, with the bark half on, and placed horizontally, one above another; here and there a hole to admit light: and this inhabited by an old priest, and his young wife and his wife's mother, and a dozen children and half a dozen dogs, and four pigs, and John, and Cripps, and the two interpreters, and Lazarus, covered with sores, bit by mosquitoes, and as black as a negro. We sleep on rein-deer skins, which are the only beds we have had since Tornea.

We have collected minerals, plants, drawings, and, what is of more importance, manuscript maps of countries unknown, not only to the inhabitants of Sweden, but to all the geographers of Europe. The best maps afford no accurate idea of Lap

land. The geography of the north of Europe, and particularly of the countries lying to the north of the Gulf of Bothnia, is entirely undetermined. I am now employed in tracing the topography of the source of the Muonio. We are enabled to confirm the observations of Maupertuis, and the French missionaries, respecting the elevation of the pole, and the arctic circle, I shall bring a piece of it home to you, which stuck in my boot, as I stepped into the frigid zone. It will serve as excellent leaven and be of great use in brewing; a

pound of it being sufficient to ferment all the beer in the cellar, merely by being placed in my cabinet.

The wolves have made such dreadful havock here, that the rich Laplanders are flying to Norway. One of them, out of a thousand rein-deer, which he possessed a few years ago, has only forty remaining. in canoes, or on foot, three hundred and Our progress from Tornea has been entirely thirty miles. There are no less than one hundred and seven cataracts between this

place and Tornea. We live on rein-deer flesh, and the arctic strawberry: which is the only vegetable that has comforted our parched lips and palates for some time. It grows in such abundance, near all the rivers, that John gathers a pail full whenever we want them. I am making all pos sible exertion to preserve some for you. Wheat is almost unknown here. The food of the natives is raw fish, ditto rein-deer, and sour milk, called pijma. Eggs, that great resource of travellers, we have not. Poultry are never seen. Had I but an English cabbage, I should feast like an (P. 356.)

alderman.

We could wish that Mr. Otter, in another edition, would cancel the foot-note, at page 646, including Pope's vulgar snarling epigram against literary women. Dr. Clarke's old bachelor habits (for he married late) might plead his apology: but for blazoning this opinion (however there is no reason, that we can see, well suited to a college-room) as something partaking equally of novelty and philosophy. We should have thought that Angelica (she appears to deserve her name) would have taught her husband better. "Reading, writing, arithmetic, accurate spelling, with a LITTLE common geography," these are the Doctor's allowance as the sum of attainment in young women. We should call it bar-maid's allowwithstanding his residence in Turkey, ance. Yet is he "positive," notthat young women "have souls: for he permits them to read the Bible. He seems to hint that they have no

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need to read any thing else; but if they read that, it is not clear to us that young women will be content to sit down in a state of quiescent ignorance. We should be glad to know, if this sort of sampler education had been the lot of Miss Aikin and Miss Edgeworth, whether we should have possessed the "Age of Elizabeth and the delightful tales, which have laid, for girls and boys alike, the foundation of moral prudence and intellectual activity? Who would willingly do without these works? Not we. "As to mathematics," ejaculates the traveller, "the very idea of such a study for Laura is enough to turn one's brain." Who or what Laura is or might have been, we have no means of conjecturing: but if Laura be taken as the representative of her sex, we beg to demur as to the rationality of the Doctor's apprehensions. Observe-he regards "music and dancing as essential for women.' So a poor girl is to stand up in everlasting quadrilles, though her feet" take no more note of time" than the stockings which dangle alternately from a laundress's line, and is to be pinned down, seven hours a day, to the pianoforte, (independent of the stern whisper, which, in general parties, will frequently accompany the persuasive suavity of smile in the mother, whose self-love is gratified by a daughter's exhibition of her vocal powers,) although the hobgoblins of her dreams are made up of minims and crotchets: but, if

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omnipotent nature have given to a girl's brain a bias towards geometry, the male parent steps in with a prohibition; and is to think it something gained if he can say to a stranger, while passing an eulogium on his right-spelling daughter,

Nor deals, thank God for that! in mathematics.

Dr. Clarke's dread of mathematics is something like his old tutor Dr. Knox's dread of metaphysics: whose paper on the subject is so clearly and cleverly refuted in Belsham's Essays. We have heard of compressing a young lady's waist with stays till it resembled a wasp's in tapering fineness; and in China they break the joints of female toes and double them up under the foot. Either practice is foolish and barbarous : but it is neither half so barbarous nor so foolish as the rule that limits the faculties of the female mind, lest some drunken booby, who pretends to take his wife as a companion, should find himself outdone in the powers of conversation.

We do not like to end with censure or objection: we shall therefore state that the interest of the book is much increased by the addition of some letters of Mr. Burckhardt, who, like Dr. Clarke, was a traveller and a man of science, and who died at Cairo in 1817. There is also a letter from Lord Byron, which will be read at the present time with peculiar interest, though the subject is purely literary.

RAISING THE DEAD.

THE MIGHTY MIRACLE; OR, THE WONDER OF WONDERS AT WINDMILL-HILL.

MISS Barbara O'Connor has kicked up a mighty dust lately with her enchanted elbow, and the Surgeon General of all Ireland has written a book to prove that there is nothing miraculous in miracles, and that patients may be cured of their diseases, in spite of physicians, by the mere force of imagination. This I think comes fairly under the old saying, "Great cry and little wool, as the man said when he shaved his pig!" If the case be coolly considered, I think it will appear that Prince Hohenlohe is not half so great

a witch as he pretends to be. I am not quite sure whether our informant was in earnest or no, when he alluded (in the last number of the LONDON MAGAZINE) to this royal miracle-worker having raised a certain Padre B from the grave. But even if he was, and if Prince Hohenlohe did really, as he asserts, disappoint the devil of a roast priest and pickles for supper, this was not after all such an extraordinary performance. Restoring the dead to life is a common recreation amongst the Illuminati of Germany. We all

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