best with philosophy; depression of spirits leads us to penetrate deeper into the character and destiny of man, than any other disposition of the mind. The English poets which succeeded the Scots bards, added to their descriptions those very ideas and reflections, which those descriptions ought to have given birth to; but they have preserved from the fine imagination of the north, that gloom which is soothed with the roaring of the sea, and the hollow blast that rages on the barren heath, and, in short, every thing dark and dismal, which can force a mind dissatisfied with its existence here, to look forward to

another state. The vivid imagination of the people of the north, darting beyond the boundaries of a world whose confines they inhabited, penetrated through the black cloud that obscured their horizon, and seemed to represent the dark passage to eternity.

"We cannot decide, in a general manner, between the two different styles of poetry, of which we may fairly say Homer and Ossian were the first models."

That any person, who can read, should have been so ignorant and so foolish as to set up such an hypothesis as this, is perfectly wonderful: "The English poets who succeeded the Scotch bards!" Will Madame Stael have the goodness in her next edition to inform us who are they?" The same religious ideas in the Runic poems and in Ossian!" Will Madame Stael have the goodness to point out the resemblance? "Ossian is reproached with his monotony: this fault exists much less in the different English and German poems which have imitated his style." Here again we must confess our ignorance of English literature, and request the baroness to tell who these English poets are. The trifling questions, whether the Ossian of Macpherson ever existed, and whether, if he did exist, he were not an Irishman, and not a Scotchman, a fact as destructive as his non-existence to the authenticity of these poems, are overlooked by Madame Stael; and if their authenticity be admitted, she has forgotten that they appeared not in a language intelligible to any civilized nation, till about the time of her own birth; and that Chaucer, and Spenser, and Shakespere, and Milton, whom we Englishmen consider as the great foun ders and masters of English poetry, lived some time before Madame Stael was born, and will continue to live some time after Madame Stael is forgotten.

Among her remarks on Shakespere, the baroness tells us, that "when a man is represented of a weak mind, and an inglorious destiny, such as Henry VI.

Richard II. and King Lear, condemned to perish; the great debates of nature, between existence and non-existence, absorb the whole attention of the spectators." We neither understand the meaning of this passage, nor the similarity of character and situation in the three kings. The three parts of Henry VI. she says, have an unlimited success in England, whereas not one of them has ever been acted within the memory of man. "Otway, Rowe, and some other English poets, Addison excepted, all wrote their tragedies in the style of Shakespere." More information this for illiterate Englishmen!

"The English language, although not so harmonious or pleasing to the car as the language of the east, has, nevertheless, by the energy of its sound, a very great advantage in poetry; every word that is strongly accented, has an effect upon the mind, because it seems to come from a lively impression, The French language excludes from poetry a number of words as being too simple, which are really noble in English, from the manner in which they are articulated. I shall offer one example: When Macbeth, at the moment he is going to seat himself at the festive table, sees the place that was destined for him filled by the shade of Banquo, whom he has just assassinated, he calls out with terror, The taIf these same words were to be repeated in ble is full!, and all the spectators tremble. French, "La table est remplie," the greatest actor in the world could not make the audience forget their common acceptation. The French pronunciation does not admit of that accent, which ennobles every word by giving it animation."

This attention to words, instead of the meaning and passion which they convey, is one of the characteristics of French taste. We once heard a Frenchman, a man of talents and letters, descant upon the inimitable and untranslatable beauties of Racine; and the example he adduced was "Roi de rois !" These words, he said, excited a sublime elevation of mind, by affecting the ears of the auditors, and the mouth and larynx of the speaker, which could not have been produced by the same expression in any other language, ancient or modern,

The English are great writers in verse, and carry eloquence of mind to the highest degree; but their works in prose scarcely partake of that life and energy which is found in their poetry. The English reserve for their they consider prose but as the language of poetry all which belongs to the imagination logic: the only object of their style is to make their arguments understood, and not to create an interest by their expressions. The

English language has not yet acquired that degree of perfection of which it is susceptible, as it has been employed oftener in commercial affairs than in literature, as much inore correctness and refinement is required in a language to write good prose, than to write good verse.

"Some English writers, notwithstanding, such as Bolingbroke, Shaftesbury, and Addison, have the reputation of good writers in prose; nevertheless, their images are deficient in energy, and their style in originality. The character of the writer is not imprinted in his style, nor his internal emotions felt by his readers. It seems as if the English feared to give way to inspiration, except in their poetry; when they write in prose, a sort of modesty or bashfulness seems to keep their sentiments in captivity.

"The English transport themselves into the ideal world of poetry, but we seldom or ever find any animation in their writings upon existing subjects. The French authors are justly reproached with their egotism, their vanity, and the importance which each one attaches to his own person, in a country where the public interest had no place. But it is nevertheless certain, that an author, in order to acquire eloquence, must express his own sentiments; it is not his interest but his emotion, it is not his self-love, but his character, that must animate his writings.

"In England the spirit of business is applied to the principles of literature, and all appeal to the feelings and every thing that can in the least influence the judgment, is interdicted in those works of reason. Mr. Burke, a most violent enemy to France, has, in his work against it, some resemblance to the eloquence of that nation; and although he had many admirers in England, there are some who are tempted to accuse his style of bombast as much as his opinions, and to find his manner of writing incompatible with justice."

On this last paragraph we shall only remark, that if Madame Stael will examine the writings of Mirabeau, the most cloquent assuredly of modern Frenchmen, she will find in them some resemblance to the eloquence of Mr. Burke.

"Why are the French possessed of more grace, taste and gaiety, than any other Europen nation?" This is the title of the se. venteenth chapter. Here again we must revert to the geographical modifications of modesty. In her answer to this question, Madame Stael has well and ably traced the source of those false and fawning manners, which are called grace and gaiety in France, and of that total want of all manly sense and all manly feeling, which in the same language is

denominated taste.

(the authority of the king being consolidated by the tacit consent of the nobility) the monarch possessed an absolute power, in fact, the right of which, notwithstanding, was undetermined; this situation compelled him to study even his courtiers, as constituting a part of that body of victors, which granted and secured to him France, their conquest.

"The delicacy of the point of honour, one of the delusions of the privileged order, compelled the nobility to decorate the most abject submission with the forms of liberty. It was necessary that they should preserve in their connection with their master a spirit of chivalry, that they should engrave upon their shield For my mistress and king," that they might be thought voluntarily to choose the yoke which they wore, and thus blending honour with slavery, they endeavoured to bow without debasement; grace was, if I may be allowed the expression, in their situation a necessary policy, as that only could give the appearance of choice to obedience.

"The king, on his part, duly considering himself in some instances as the dispenser of glory, the representative of public opinion, could recompence only by applause, and punish only by degradation; he was obliged to support his power by a kind of public assent, which his will, without doubt, principally directed, but which shewed itself frequently independent of all that will. Ties of the most delicate nature, and prejudices artfully conducted, formed the connection of the first subjects with their governor Those connections required great art and quickness of mind; grace was requisite in the monarch, or at least in the dispensers of his power; taste and delicacy were necessary in the choice of favours and favourites, in order that neither the commencement nor the limits of the royal authority might be perceived. Some of its rights must be exercised without being acknowledged, some acknowledged without being exercised, and moral considerations were that one bad stroke of politics was universally embraced by opinion, with such subtlety, felt, and might be the ruin of a minister, notwithstanding any support that government should be inclined to give him.

"The king, of course, must call himself the first gentleman of his kingdom, that he might the more readily exercise a boundless authority over gentlemen; and to strengthen that authority over the nobility, a certain porthem. Arbitrary power not even then altion of flattery was necessarily directed to lowing a freedom of opinion, both parties perceived the necessity of pleasing each other, and the means of succeeding therein were multiplied.

"Grace, and elegance of manners, gradually passed from the customs of the court into the writings of the literary. The most elevated station, the source of all favour, is the

object of general attention; and, as in all free countries, the government gives the impulse virtue; 50, in monarchies, the

court influences the mental genius of the nation, because an universal wish is excited to imitate that which distinguishes the most elevated rank.

"When the government is so moderate, that no cruelty is apprehended from it, and so arbitrary, that all the enjoyments of power and fortune depend only on its favour, all those who aspire to that favour ought to possess a sufficient degree of mental tranquillity to render themselves amiable, and sufficient dexterity to make that frivolous accomplishment conducive to material success. Men of the first class of society in France, often aspired to power, but they ran no dangerous hazards in that career; they gamed without risking the loss of a large stake, uncertainty turned only upon the extent of their advantage; hope alone then animated their exertions; great perils give additional energy to the soul and to the reflecting powers, but security gives to the mind all the charms of ease and readiness.

"The animation of gaiety, still more than the polish of grace, banished the remembrance of all distinctions of rank, without, in reality, destroying any; by means of this, grandees dreamed of equality with kings, and poets with nobles, and inspired even the higher ranks with a more refined idea of their own advantages, which after a short forgetful ness were remembered again with renewed pleasure; and the highest perfection of taste and gaiety was the result of this universal desire to please."

"The influence of women is necessarily very great, when all events take place in the drawing-room, and when all characters are judged by their conversation, in such a case women become a supreme power, and whatever pleases them is assiduously cultivated. The leisure which monarchy left to the rality of distinguished men in every department, conduced very much to bring the plea sures of the understanding and of conversation to perfection.

gene

Power was attained in France neither by labour nor by study; a bon mot, some peculiar gracefulness, was frequently the occasion of the most rapid promotions; and these frequent examples inspired a sort of careless philosophy, a confidence in fortune, and a contempt for studious exertions, which led every mind to be agreeable and accommodat ing. When diversion is not only permitted, but often useful, a nation ought to attain the utmost point of perfection to which it can be

carried.

"Nothing similar to this will ever be witnessed in France, whilst under a government of a different nature, however it may be constituted, which will be a convincing proof that what was called French genius and French grace, were only the result of monarchical institutions and manners, such as they have for many past ages existed in France."

Whatever be the truth of the predic tion, there is good sense in these remarks. We are far from designing to pass any general and indiscriminate censure upon Madame Stael; we blame her for affecting to discourse de omni scibile, for talking of the Greek philosophers as familiarly as Thomas Taylor, and of the English poets as boldly as if she were competent to be their judge. We would hint to her, that it is not every Englishwoman, stand Shakespere and Milton. It is a nor Englishman either, who can underpleasanter task to listen to her when she is speaking upon subjects within the sphere of her own knowledge and ob

servation.

"A bold and very difficult stratagem, allowed under the ancient government, was the art of offending against the manners without woending taste, and to make a mockery of morality, by proportioning delicacy of expressions to indecency of principles. Happily, however, this talent is as ill adapted to the virtue as to the genius of a republic; as soon as one barrier was overthrown, the rest would be disregarded, the relations of society would no longer have the power to curb those whom sacred ties could not restrain.

"Moreover, extraordinary quickness of genius is requisite, in order to succeed in this dangerous style, which unites grace of expression to depravity of sentiments; and by the strong exercise of our faculties, to which we are called in a republic, we lose that ingenuity. The most delicate touches are necessary to give to immorality that grace, without which even the most abandoned of man

kind would repulse with disgust the pictures and principles of vice."

virtue as to the genius of a republic, That this talent is as ill adapted to the no one will be disposed to deny; but we must doubt whether there be not such a disposition in Frenchmen to this talent, as would unfit them for a republican government, even if they possessed courage enough to establish one. "The morality of the French," says Madame Stael herself, " is perverted by the ardent desire they feel to distinguish themselves in any way, but most by the brilliancy of their wit. When the qualities they already possess are insufficient for this pur pose, they have recourse to vice, in order to render themselves conspicuous."Something of this will exist among indi viduals in all countries; but woe to the country whereof this can be the national characteristic. Because this is the national characteristic of France, we do not expect that mental and moral conva

wholesome liquors which fill the stomach with flatulence instead of food. Nonò é peggior ladro d'un cattivo libro, say the Italians. We have a vulgar proverb, which says "all that does not poison fattens;" but it is false, physically and metaphori, cally; the stomach may be filled, and yet defrauded of its nutriment; and, in like manner, will the mind be debilitated, if words, and only words, be presented to it. What there is good in these volumes, would have been better, if brought toge ther in an essay, and that essay a very few pages in length. As it is, we cannot but feel that it is wearying and unprofitable work to sift a bushell of

chaff for the sake of half a dozen grains of wheat.

Madame Stael is a clever woman and

an accomplished woman; but something more than cleverness and accomplishments are required for the composition of a Treatise on Ancient and Modern Literature. She possesses more talents than either of her parents, who were both extraordinary persons. Some such progressive amelioration as our feeders aim at in wool and mutton, is carried on by nature with the human mind. If the Neckar family be continued for a few generations, it will probably produce genius.

WHOEVER casts his eye on the ponderous size and formidable numbers of the volumes which form a complete collection of English poetry, will be immediately sensible of the great utility of a work like that before us.

The neglect with which the classics of the last age are treated by the young persons of the present, a frequent topic of complaint with more experienced readers, is surely matter for regret rather than surprise. Should a novice in literature, particularly if a youthful female, summon up resolution to attempt a thorough methodical perusal of these mouldy archives of the muses, what will be the probable consequence? Puzzled by the obsolete phraseology of some parts, bewildered by the pompous rant of others, disgusted by the grossness of this writer, insulted by the puerilities of that, and wearied by the prolixity of the whole, she will hastily turn aside from the fatiguing task of winnowing the unsorted heap, tamely to receive from the hand of fashion the grotesque fancies of the day for the venerable costume of our ancestors, works unmeritedly extolled for those undeservedly forgotten, the feeble imitation for the nervous original, the flowery for the pithy, the new for the cxcellent. A kinder task could not therefore have been undertaken for the benefit of the rising generation, than that of pointing out those portions of English poetry most deserving the attention of a young lady, the characteristic excellencies and defects of each writer, and the order of reading best adapted to form a correct and unbiassed taste. The reputation of Dr. Aikin, as a judicious and impartial

critic, is such as will inspire his fair pu pils with respect and confidence, and the public voice will probably echo our as surance, that they could not have found a safer or more pleasing guide through the flowery paths of poesy.

Our author has not thought it requi site to open his series of letters with "any preliminary discussions of the the oretical kind, concerning the abstract nature of poetry in general, and its seve ral species," considering the practical mode of acquiring a taste by the perusal of the best models as the most eligible. "To assist his pupil in forming an ear for the melody of verse" was his first object, and with this a chronological or der was evidently incompatible, as it was desirable immediately to bring forward "those perfect examples of the art, which necessarily imply many previous attempts." Accordingly, Pope's Pas torals come first under inspection; Windscr Forest, and several more of that author's smaller pieces, are then pointed out; after which Dryden, Waller, Prior, and some others, are introduced to the notice of the scholar, before her preceptor permits her return to the works of Pope; fearful, he says, "lest fascinated by his beauties, she should fix her taste so exclusively upon him, as to regard every deviation from his manner as a defect." Its comprehensiveness is in fact the grand characteristic of Dr. Aikin's poetical system; to every branch of the art, to every species of merit, he labours to give a fair and equal chance of obtaining the applause of his young reader, and to this principle of impartiality is to be ascribed the seeming neglect of order in which his