and should be written with the same degree of freedom and elegance, as the orignal itself. So to reproduce the ideas of the author, free alike from diminution and exaggeration, so to enter into his spirit and argument as never to overstep, never to fall short of the extent of his expressions, and at the same time to preserve equal chasteness and elegance of style, is the work of a scholar, and a scholar alone. He must never be tempted, or, if he is, he must resist the temptation, to interpolate what he may deem an elegance and an improvement; while, on the other hand, he must not skulk over a difficulty by omission or paraphrase A precise and minutely intimate knowledge of both languages, and of the capacities and power of every word employed, as well as great accuracy and a previous acquaintance with the tenour of the book, these are the prerequisites of a translator, not one of which appears to be possessed by the editor of the work before us. The English is slovenly and incorrect; the meaning is garbled and misrepresented; and the performance is in every respect unscholarlike in the extreme. Mr. Sibson's labours, however, will afford a beacon to future translators; from him they will, at least, learn how they ought not to translate.

REVIEW. Curiosities of Literature, by J. D'Israeli, Esq., D.C.L., F.S.Ă. Ninth Edition. In Six Volumes. Vol. I. & II. Moron, London. 1834. IN that most ingenious piece of epigrammatic prose, Colton's preface to his Lacon, we read of a man who wrote a book "de omnibus rebus et quibusdam aliis." This must, one should suppose, have suggested to the learned author the plan of the "Curiosities of Literature." In proof of this, let one run his eye over the table of contents of the volume before us, which, by the way, is by no means its least interesting part. "Solomon and Shebahell-waxwork-modern Platonism-the history of gloves"!! This little quotation conveys some idea of the variety which this antiquarian melange offers to the

reader.

The class of literature to which the work before us must be assigned, is certainly far from the highest; at the same time, though it may not require for its prosecution the most eminent intellectual gifts, it is one which must be confessed to be equally useful and entertaining. To cull with taste the most valuable facts which lie lost in the rubbish of dusty folios

or long-forgotten manuscripts, and to give them to the public in an elegant and attractive form, associated with those more important facts which they illustrate and confirm, or with some ingenious and valuable deductions, requires no small degree of learning and research in the author, while it supersedes, in the case of the reader, the necessity for similar labours, by presenting him with their fruits and resu.is, All this credit, and more, is due to the author of the Curiosities of Literature. He further claims our admiration for the beauty and lightness of his style, and for that evident bonhommie which makes the reader at once in good temper with his author and himself. We are exceedingly glad to see these volumes republished in a more generally accessible form and compass, and we sincerely hope that they will secure the patronage of the public. In recommending them by an extract or two, we know not whither to turn. Every page is interesting, new, and elegant. We give, without selecting, the following:—

"CICERO'S PUNS.

"I SHOULD,' says Menage, 'have received great pleasure to have conversed with Cicero, had I lived in his time. He must have been a man very agreeable in conversation, since even Cæsar carefully collected his bon mots. Cicero has boasted of the great actions he has done for his country, because there is no vanity in exulting in the performance of our duties; but he has not boasted that he was the most eloquent orator of his age, though he certainly was; because nothing is more disgusting than to exult in our intellectual powers.'

"Whatever were the bon mots of Cicero, of which few have come down to us, it is certain that Cicero was an inveterate punster; and he seems to have been more ready with them than with repartees. He said to a senator, who was the son of a tailor. 'Rem acu tetigisti." You have touched it sharply: acu means sharpness as well as the point of a needle. To the son of a cook, 'Ego quoque tibi jure favebo.' The ancients pronounced coce and quoque like co-ke, which alludes to the Latin coeus, cook, besides the ambiguity of jure, which applies

to broth or law-jus. A Sicilian suspected of being a Jew, attempted to get the cause of Verres into his own hands; Cicero, who knew that he was a creature of the [great culprit, opposed him, observing "What has a Jew to do with swine's flesh?" The Romans called a boar pig Verres. I regret to afford a respectable authority for forensic puns; however, to have degraded his adversaries by such petty personalities, only proves that Cicero's taste was not exquisite," Vol. I. pp. 101, 102.

"GROTIUS.

"The life of Grotius shews the singular felicity of a man of letters and a statesman; and how a student can pass his leisure hours in the closest imprisonment. The gate of the prison has sometimes been the porch of fame.

ledged and guaranteed the inviolability and neutrality of Switzerland, in every future continental war. In concluding, the author glances at the future prospects of this interesting country, in one or two paragraphs, which may be offered as a fair specimen of the style and spirit of the

work

"Such are the events of the past, in which, as in a mirror, we behold the secrets of the future. It was neither the arrow of Tell, nor the poniard of Camogask, which severed the bonds of Swiss servitude. The independence of the confederation was achieved neither by the battle of St. Jacob, nor by that of the Malserhaide; a struggle of 500 years only could secure freedom at home and establish independence abroad.-The men who assembled in the Grutli, and under the maple of Truns, only gave the signal for the sacred contest. When the luxurious pride of the other cantons had corrupted the simplicity of Uri, the confederates no longer blushed to fill the places of the expelled governors and their deputies, nor to prefer having subjects and bondsmen to associating with free fellow-citizens. At Stans, where the venerable Von der Flue appeared before them, they mutually swore to guarantee to each other a perpetual dominion over their subjects; and when Toggenburg entreated the acceptance of its ransom, they despised the honourable proposal. They were willing to accord liberties, but not liberty, to their subjects. Hence the virtue, intelligence, and increasing wealth of the people appeared at length more formidable to them than open defiance and revolt. But what the hand of contemptible selfishness had bound, was destined to be by itself again dissolved. The world saw with astonishment that that which had rendered the Swiss powerful and renowned-their unanimity and indissoluble league-was now despised and betrayed by themselves. The cantons, forgetful of their ancient affection, hostilely strove against each other, and courted the favour of foreign states. The champions of liberty became enslaved for the gold chains of princes: the frugal sons of the Alps sold on unknown plains the blood of the people for hire, and their own voices in the senate for sordid presents. The manly spirit of the ancient statesman degenerated into the timidity of an oligarchy, which converts the affairs of the nation into secrets of state. At the moment, however, when the governments had almost wholly alienated themselves from the nation, the people severed from them. No empire ever owed its fall to the virtues of its citizens :-the ancient league, frequently infringed, sank to utter dissolution.

"That God, however, who had upheld their fathers, watched also with unceasing compassion over the children. And as a fruitful rain gushes from the stormy thunder-cloud, so from this tempest of the political horizon arose the freedom of the whole Swiss nation. Over a surface of about 4500 square miles, between lake Leman and the lake of Constance, there now exists (a thing before unheard

of) a population of two million, composing twenty

two commonwealths, all enjoying freedom and independence. It is true that, compared to the power of other states, the strongest of these republics is feeble and insignificant. Still will the least of them,

by the union of the whole, be invincible, as long s every member of the confederation fears less to encounter another Grandson, Murton, and Frastens, than the artifice and gold of a patrician Zoppo, or of a bishop Schinner. Ths enemy before whom a Swiss heart should tremble comes neither from Germany nor France. The most formidable adver sary of our freedom and independence-if he again appear-will spring from the midst of ourselves. But he must be made to bear a mark that all may know him. It is that man who prefers the credi of his own canton to the lasting glory of the who confederation?-his own private and transient in terests to those of the whole community. It is b who fears the sword worn by a free people, but not the flattering words and presents of kings and their ambassadors:-he who openly declares-let silence be enjoined to the journals, and mystery to the teachers of youth: place your money out to interes and do not sqander it away on armies and military establishments; close the council chamber, and let not the people hear our proceedings: by this means shall we become lords and masters, and the people our slaves. It is he who sows distrust between the Catholics and Protestants, who raises prohibitory barriers between one canton and another, and whe seeks to restore that enervating selfishness, that family ambition, that pride of pedigree, and all those warring corruptions which overwhelmed the ancient confederation in blood, in defiance of Neuenegg and Rothenthurn. One great lesson, however, we have learnt it is, that right and justice are far more powerful than force; that the happiness of each individual family is only safe under the law of liberty; and that the liberty of the whole springs only from the independence of the confederation But this independence rests not on papers with im perial and royal assurances-its foundation is of iron-our swords; the genuine Swiss nobility must spring from the churches and schools of the people. The true wealth of the state must consist in the prosperity of every family. The great arsenal of the confederation must be the armories of its citizens; the transactions of the parliaments and popu lar assemblies must resound in the ears of the whole nation. By these means will a noble public spirit scatter, like a celestial fire, the rubbish of civic and cantonal egotism. It was neither the arrow of Tell, nor the poniard of Camogask, that severed the bonds of Swiss servitude. The inde pendence of the confederation was achieved neither by the battle of St. Jacob, nor by that of the Malser haide. The men who assembled at Grutli, and under the maple of Truns, gave the signal only for the sacred contest. Confederates! we combat for it still. Our descendants will combat for it over our graves. Be wary, lest ye fall into temptation. Let your trust be in God:-your watchword, All the confederates for one, and each for all !"-pp. 392

to 395.

These are noble sentiments; and such as, with all the unsuitableness of the Swiss form of government to the circumstances of most dition, and could scarcely have been genenations, owe their origin to that political conrated except in a republic. We conclude with a cordial recommendation of the volume we have thus introduced to our readers.

VIEW.-The Life, Character, and Literary Labours of Samuel Drew, A.M. By his Eldest Son. London. Longman.

1834.

Is is, in all respects, a highly interesting lume. It records the instructive history a man of acute and powerful intellect, of eat diligence, and of sterling and excelnt piety. It is written by his son, and thibits all the excellencies and all the alts (and they are of that pardonable haracter which " lean to virtue's side") hich usually mark productions of that ind. We warmly sympathize with the iographer in those feelings of affectionate espect which betray themselves throughout is work; and, for our own part, we think hat the minutely circumstantial manner in which some private matters, illustrative of Mr. Drew's character, are detailed, adds not a little to the interest of the book. In perusing it, we dwell and converse with the venerable deceased, and thus realize the true effects of a good biography, by becoming intimately acquainted with its subject. If we must take an exception against it, we would say that, in our opinion, some of the correspondence might be advantageously omitted, especially such as is of a private and confidential character. We think that a writer may justly claim so far a property in what he writes, as to make it a breach of confidence to publish even letters which were intended but for one reader.

It would be beside our purpose to present the reader with an analysis of a memoir which is necessarily made up of a great number of minutia: Mr. Drew's life contained but few great events, on which the biographer can expatiate; it was, in a great measure, a literary life. The key to his whole history may be given in a single paragraph, from the pen of Mr. Drew, which occurs in the ninth section of the volume before us

66

By unremitting industry," he says, “I at length surmounted such obstacles as were of a pecuniary nature: this enabled me to procure assistance in my labours, and afforded me the common relaxation which others enjoyed. This was the only leisure at which I aimed. In this situation, I felt an internal vigour prompting me to exertion, but I was unable to determine what direction I should take. The sciences lay before me. I discovered charms in each, but was unable to embrace them all, and hesitated in making a selection. I had learned that

'One science only will one genius fit,
So vast is art, so narrow human wit.'

2D. SERIES, NO. 40.-VOL. IV.

"At first I felt such an attachment to astronomy, that I resolved to confine my views to the study of that science; but I soon found myself too defective in arithmetic to make any proficiency. Modern history was my next object; but I quickly discovered that more books and time were necessary than I could either purchase or spare, and on this account history was abandoned. In the region of metaphysics I saw neither of the above impediments. It nevertheless appeared to be a thorny path, but I determined to enter, and accordingly began to tread it.'

"Referring to this period of his life, in conversation with a gentleman with whom he was particularly intimate, when asked whether he had not studied astronomy in his time, Mr. Drew remarked, I once had a very great desire for it, for I thought it suitable to the genius of my mind, and I think so still but then

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REVIEW. The Nun. Seeley and Burnside, and Seeley and Sons. London. 1833.

THE tyranny of the Church of Rome is passing away more rapidly perhaps than many of the other moral and superstitious tyrannies, which originated during the ages of darkness in that blind prostration of intellect, insisted upon, by the artful and interested few, as the religious obedience of the multitude to the Deity. One of the strongest roots of the papal power was that which struck its intertangled fibres through the connexions of domestic life, and drew its nourishment from the corruption of the

best of human affections. The sacrifice of the whole of human life from the days of youth, with all its interesting duties, its animating pursuits, and its anticipated plea. sures, at the altar of priestly sanctity, and at the demand of priestly authority, was the triumph of despotic brutality over abject and infatuated ignorance. We now, in our emancipated state, look back with blended indignation and pity, at the detestable bigotry which could thus devote human nature as an offering to ecclesiastical power, and we are astonished that mankind, for so many ages, yielded itself to this unnatural and unprincipled subjugation. Even yet that subjugation is far from being wholly terminated. The papal authority assuming to itself upon earth rights appertaining to the Deity alone, would still remodel and pervert the nature of man, and make the free being to whom the Creator gave an intellect capable of comprehending his word and his works, a trembling slave, crouching before the avaricious and ambitious power of priestcraft. Instructed now from scripture and from general know. ledge, the human mind scorns the efforts of a superannuated superstition. The human soul, fortified by the gospel, knows that its way to its God is not through a labyrinth of darksome cells, in which the instincts and passions, instead of being directed, under the guidance of divine grace, to their duties and to the just ends for which the Creator implanted them in our nature, were either annihilated, or rendered the instruments of constant torture.

In the volume before us, we have a most interesting description of the manners of a nunnery. The consequences of that tyranny which the papacy exercised during so many ages over domestic connexions and affections, when it tore the heart of the young and lovely, on the very first movement of its warmest and most delightful sentiments, from life; and, in the violated name of the Creator and the Saviour, united it, in bonds, to a death, in which there was no rest, are here most admirably displayed. The narrative, which constitutes the outline of the work is probably in some respects fictitious, but there is reason to suppose that it is founded on fact. It is extremely simple, and has none of those studied situations by which the mere novelist endeavours to ensure effect. The merit of the

work consists in affording a distinct view of what could scarcely be imagined by any person who had not been conversant with the scenes and situations described in it; and so completely graphic are these descriptions, that we can scarcely entertain a

doubt of the author having been, as is indeed intimated, the nun she is delineating

She states herself to have been educate: in the strictest principles of the Roman Catholic faith, and was left an orphan a short time previous to the French revole tion. She was born at Turin; her forture was respectable, and entirely in her own power. The early death of a beloved sister acted so powerfully upon her mind as strongly to incline her to become a nut. Although brought up strictly, she had received more intellectual improvement than Piedmontese ladies, in general, at that period; and having a relative and school. fellow married at St. Siffren, she accepted, on the death of her sister, an invitation to that small town, in which stood a convent of Notre Dame de Misericorde, of the order of St. Augustin,

"A convent of very old establishment, and high renown for sanctity, of which the superior was an abbess, and, at the time I speak of, an individual of the noble family of Lascaris, supposed to be descended from the Emperors of the East. Behind this convent was a very large garden, which was the more beautiful, as it encroached upon the hill which rose immediately behind the house, and in consequence was divested of that stiffness which must always be found in a pleasureground situated on a perfect level. This garden was surrounded by exceedingly high walls, and moreover was shaded by a line of very tall cedar-trees planted within the wall. yet was it commanded from the hill behind, though at so great a distance as by no means to incommode those who took the air, even in the most exposed part of the garden. This spot of ground had also another advantage, which was this, that a litle stream of clear water from the hills passed through it, a low grated arch being provided in the wall for its entrance, and another, on the other side, for its exit.

"I was exceedingly captivated with the appearance of this establishment, and having made up my mind to obtain admission therein, if possible, I got my friend, Madame Verani, to speak to Father Joachim, the confessor of the household, who presently intimated that Madame la Superieure would see me at an hour appointed, on a certain day in the fol lowing week; in consequence of which, my friend and myself repaired to the house at the time fixed. Being arrived on the terrace under the walls of the convent, we walked slowly forwards, and there was a decided impression of awe on the minds of both

of us.

"So many of the ancient religious edifices were destroyed during the revolutions which subsequently affected many of the continental countries, that we now seldom see a monastic society invested with all those circumstances