In a Letter to a Law Student,' dated in 1817, the writer makes some excellent observations on the senate, and the means of acquiring a reputation in its arena.The remarks which we shall extract contain a valuable lesson for all public men :—

"As an illustration of this spirit of serious business, I must mention a quality, which presupposing great talents and great knowledge, must always be uncommon; but which makes an irresistible impression on a public assembly of educated men. I' mean the merit of stating the question in debate fairly, and I mean it as an oratorical, and not merely as a moral superiority. Any audience, but especially an educated and impatient audience, listens with a totally different kind and degree of attention to a speaker of this character, and to one who, tempted by the dangerous facility of a feebler practice, either alters, or weakens, or exaggerates the language and sentiments of his adversary. Mr. Fox was an illustrious example of this honestest, best, and bravest manner: nay, sometimes he stated the arguments of his opponents so advantageously, that his friends have been alarmed lest he should fail to answer them. His great rival formerly, and another accomplished orator now living,* have seldom ventured on this hazardous candour. In truth, the last mentioned possesses too many talents; for, betrayed by his singular powers of declamation and of sarcasm, he often produces more admiration than conviction, and rarely delivers an important speech without making an enemy for life. Had he been a less man, he would be a greater speaker, and a better leader in a popular assembly."

"All our praiseworthy toil and expense, in building infirmaries and asylums, cannot save a hundredth part of the lives, nor alleviate a hundredth part of the afflictions, brought upon the human race by one unnecessary war. 'Next to the calamity of losing a battle is that of gaining a victory,' is reported to have been said by our great commander on the evening of the bloody day of Waterloo."

We were much pleased with the remarks 'On the Passions.'-We will select a few: "The well-known doctrine of a master

• Mr. Canning. Although this remark is in some respects correct, it is equally true that no individual possessed the power to a greater extent, of retaining, in all their early force, the friendships of his younger days than this distinguished statesman.

passion is only an exaggeration of the fact, as displayed in the characters of most persons, especially of those who have warm constitutions, and it is, therefore, of great importance to watch the growth of such a powerful despot in ourselves and in others, if we hope to govern or understand either. Yet, it is, in truth, surprising how few are sufficiently acquainted with themselves to see, distinctly, what their own motives actually are. It is a rare as well as a great advantage for a man to know his own mind. If we attend to what is going on, we have, at first, a voice in choosing our own sovereign; for the monarchy, though absolute, is elective, and much, indeed, does it concern us to choose our ruler wisely."

"It cannot be denied that our warmest emotions, though subjecting us to innumerable temptations, have many countervailing benefits. Though all the passions are subtle sophists, and ever justify themselves, yet they are not without their use in our mental improvement, since, probably, more prejudices are removed by passion than by philosophy. Temper, too, even ill-temper, is more frank and honest than a calm, calculating self-love; or, at least, it puts others on their guard, by exhibiting the character plainly, as an insect is shewn in a microscope.

There is much truth in the paper on 'Political Agitations;' for instance, he says, although evidently leaning to the liberal side

"It is not only hard to distinguish between too little and too much, but between the good and evil intentions of the different reformers. One man calls out 'Fire,' that he may save the house; another, that he may run away with the furniture."

"Gradual improvements, notwithstanding, are not only safer but better than sudden ones, and more,' much more, may be learnt from their example, when well recorded: but history is addicted to dwell on the latter, and rarely investigates the former. Their effects also are more permanent than extensive; anarchy being only the stakeholder for tyranny. There is, besides, something more terrible to the imagination in the disorderly violences of the multitude than in the organized oppression of a despot; something more hideous in myriads of reptiles, than in a gigantic beast of prey. If there were no alternative but either the absolute government of St. Giles's or St. James's, who in his senses could hesitate a moment which to

prefer?"

These are days in which the utilitarian principle seems carried too far :

"Let those who choose it," says our author, "prefer the man who makes a blade of grass grow where it grew not before, to the poet and the moralist who water the

sickly seeds of virtue, and cause a rich harvest of good deeds to spring up from the unfriendly soil of a depraved or neglected heart."

The following observations are addressed in a letter to the late lamented Francis Horner :

Are

"I agree with you, however, that a common opinion intimated by Gibbon in the following passage, is not true. 'I desisted from the pursuit of mathematics, before my mind was hardened by the habit of rigid demonstration, so destructive of the finer feelings of moral evidence; which determine the actions and opinions of our lives.' we not more benefited by the habits of close attention formed in the study of mathematics, than injured by the hardening process which he dreaded? Surely the necessity of walking all our lives in the twilight of probable evidence, corrects the seeming evidence of our seeing occasionally by the blaze of a noonday sun."

The poetical portion of the volume is entitled, Verses,' third edition, from which it appears that they have appeared in print before the publication of the prose to which they are now attached. The poetry is not characterised by the highest marks of creative genius, but it is distinguished in general, by correct versification, elegant thought, and pure sentiment. We will extract the opening of the 'Epistle to an Eminent Poet;' written in 1792:"Yes! thou hast chosen well 'the better part,' And, for the triumphs of the noblest art, Hast wisely scorn'd the sordid cares of life, Its gaudy joys and its ambitious strife, Less fitted for the many than the few That love the beautiful and seek the true, Too proud to pay his honour for his fame, To wish a statesman's or a conqueror's name, The poet shuns the senate and the field, Known in his verse, but in his life conceal'd: As some unheeded flower that loves the shade, Is by the fragrance of its leaf betray'd.

Far from the world's broad glare, the din of men,
He seeks the pathless wood, the twilight glen,
The silent mountain, the deserted stream,.
Unseen, unheard, to woo the waking dream:
Now from the hanging rock and foaming shore,
Raves to the deaf sea, while its waters roar;
Or, musing sits, while airy voices call,
Whole summer-days beside the torrent-fall.
O'er the wild heath, alone, at eve he strays,
To catch with lingering look the sun's last rays;
Or, watch the playing moon-beam, as it roves
Thro' towers forsaken long, and haunted groves,
And, as each glimpse some phantom-form reveals,
A strange belief, unknown till then, he feels:
But oft, when fancy wakes her shadowy broods,
On his shut sense, no sight, no sound intrudes,
To break the spell that bid her visions play
In hues far brighter than belong to day.
Then to his lips burst forth th' unbidden strains,
In that wild hour when reason scarcely reigns."

Shakspeare's universal genius is thus elegantly and spiritedly portrayed :—

"In life's gay glare, as in the solar blaze,
Confused and lost, each mingling colour plays;
Opprest, the baffled eye-ball turns away,
Nor can discern the tints that form the day :
His page prismatic breaks the dazzling mass,
And bids the blended hues distinctly pass.
No dead remains of ancient art he knew,
But from the life man's naked nature drew,
The changeful features of the soul portray'd,
And caught each latent muscle as it play'd,
The bold but faithful sketch shall live and last
Till the decaying world itself be past."

REVIEW.-Jephthah's Daughter; a Dramatic Poem. By M. J. Chapman, Esq. Author of " Barbadoes,' and other Poems. Fraser. London. 1834.

THE admirers and readers of poetry necessarily store their memories with the imagery and phraseology of their favourite authors. They have the language and the idiom of the muse impressed upon their minds, and their sensibilities are alive to all the varieties of her versification; but it does not follow, that because they are able to listen with understanding as well as delight to the inspired strains of minstrelsy, and as they listen are capable of catching and glowing with the fervour of the theme, themselves possess the power of speaking the language they comprehend, or of kindling the sacred fires, of which they feel the glow and the animation. What a dead language is to many very excellent scholars, is poetry to the majority of mankind. They read it-they are struck with its beauties and their hearts and intellects are enriched with its treasures; but they do not speak it or write it. A man in his study may be sensible of the force of Tacitus, the graphic truth of Livy, and the copious strength of Cicero, who would experience no small difficulty in writing a short Latin letter to his friend; and, assuredly, no rational man, whatever skill he might have acquired in writing the lan

guage of Latium with idiomatic accuracy, would, upon the strength of his sensibilities to the beauties of those authors, attempt to vie in oratory with the one, or in history with the others. Yet, among the ardent admirers of poetry, whose relative situation, with reference to poetry itself does not materially differ from that of the scholar, in relation to the orator and the historians of Rome, there are not a few who persuade themselves, and would fain persuade others, that what they admire they can perform— what they can hear with delight, they can speak with fluency.

Mr. Chapman is, we imagine, extensively conversant in poetry, ancient and modern, sacred and profane, but he is not a poet. The subject he has selected is essentially poetic, but his composition is not a poem.

The form of the Greek

drama is well adapted to be the vehicle of an awful incident, of which the fulfilment of a vow to God is the leading character and the catastrophe, and Mr. Chapman has correctly observed that form; but nothing can be more cold than the form of the Greek tragedy when unanimated by genius. The scenes of the Greek tragedy have been compared to the relievos of Greek sculpture, kindling into life, and yet preserving the placid gracefulness of their groupings; but Mr. Chapman's scenes are not tranquil, although they are lifeless-they do not appear to be kindling with vitality, but to be labouring by mechanic art to imitate living things.

The opening of the poem, nevertheless, abounds in those lesser beauties of description, which a close reader of the poets who so numerously adorned the beginning of the seventeenth century, can scarcely fail to imbibe, if he is gifted with sensibility. The versification abounds in variety of cadence, and the line

"Rustling trills with a living harmony," which no one would have written who had not listened frequently to the bold minstrelsy of our older bards, is exquisitely expressive of the sense. The word " morwening" is so completely obsolete, that it requires some reflection to be sensible of its original meaning, which was "the coming of the morning;" and reflection of this kind interrupts and injures the general effect of a poetical passage, and should consequently not be excited. Such lost words cannot be restored, and should not be used. We quote this opening passage; the perusal of which may induce many readers to expect much gratification from the entire drama.

MIRIAM, NURSE, CHORUS..

MIRIAM.

"The lingering night! how slowly did it pass!
And now the glorious day! how beautiful!
The morn is merry, and the valleys laugh;
Joy stands a-tiptoe on the dew-dropt trees;
The lily and the rose, sweet rivals! shew
Their blooming braveries; the cedar-top
Rustling trills with a living harmony.
See! how the innocent kids go frisking by,
And with what joy sedate and measured pace
That woolly counsellor leads forth his people.
And yonder goes my hart-(remember, Nurse!
How I did find him, when he was so high,
A tiny pining fawn, and how we thought
Some lion had despoiled him of his dam,
And how I fed him and did garland him
Till he grew tall and proud, and fled away,
Unkind one! why I never yet could guess)-
See! how he bounds and clears the water-brook!
My own! my beautiful! my gallant hart!
Yonder into the thick of sheltering green
He glancing glides, and like a dream is gone!
The very grass enjoys the morwening,
And each particular blade is diamonded
With day-spring dew. The blue arch over us
Looks inexpressible love; and that bright orb
Seems a benevolence instinct with life-
How like a king he looks upon the world!
I feel a voice within me, and must needs
(Most exquisite impulse!) interpret it:-
Break into joy, ye daughters of the land!
For, lo! the winter it is past, and gone
The weltering rain; the flowers are on the earth;
The happy birds enjoy their singing-time,
And in our land the turtle's voice, is heard;
Already from the vine-leaf peeps the grape,
And her green figs the fig tree putteth forth.
Break into joy, ye virgins, and proclaim
The Giver of all good."-p. 7 to 9.

The chorus then sings a morning hymn, in which there are several pleasing passages. This stanza may be termed fine :

"Down falls, like some untimely birth,
The ephemeral: his kneaded clod
Resolved to water and to earth,-
His soul before his God.
But unimpeded in his path,

And passionless in love or wrath,
The Master-mind with stedfast pace
Moves tranquil on; and from his place,
From light's remotest orb as far
As from the earth the farthest star,
At once inspects each glistering ball,
And marks a sparrow fall."-p. 11.

This is unfortunately followed by a long desultory discourse, in which Miriam, Jephthah's daughter, and her nurse, make long speeches to each other upon many moral and religious subjects, while the business of the drama seems to be totally forgotten. These long, and somewhat dreary discourses, which are scarcely relieved by paraphrases of scripture, and imitations of striking passages of our old

A version in a foreign language will often please, by the different turn which t gives to a passage, while the most obvious and necessary emendations of the received text are resented by the ear, if not by the judgment."

REVIEW.-The Epistle to the Hebrews; a New Translation. Holdsworth and Ball. London. 1834.

In order to obviate those objections which may at first sight be made to a retranslation of any part of the Scriptures, we state from the author's own words in the preface to his work, the end he has had in view in rendering this sublime epistle into language somewhat different from that of the authorised version, and the reasons which have induced him, instead of confining himself to a translation comprising only the more difficult, or apparently less connected passages, to extend his labours to the apostle's whole discourse. For this purpose we first call the reader's attention to the following paragraphs :

"This translation is designed, not for public, but private use, as a companion to the authorised version, not a substitute for it.

"It has been the author's aim to give the literal sense rather than the literal phrase of the original, without having recourse to the awkward expedient of diffuse paraphrase:

"Should he be thought to have departed in any places arbitrarily, or without necessity, from the unexceptionable terms of the authorised version, where the sense given is identical, he begs that it may be borne in mind-that an advantage is sometimes gained by presenting the same idea under a varied phraseology, although the new expression may not in itself be more forcible. The mind is thus roused to the more distinct consideration of the sentiment which the familiar phrase had but obscurely presented. Another reason which has

guided the author in such variations, is, that slight and occasional deviations from the original text, hallowed to the reader by sacred associations, disappoint the ear more, perhaps, than a rendering

These statements will, we imagine, be sufficient to convince the most orthodox Christian, that he will find nothing which can be in the slightest degree detrimental to the soundness of his belief, in the work before us. But this is not a sufficient commendation. It is not merely the avoiding of what is injurious, but the communication of actual good, which should form the chief object of a writer in entering upon such a task. How far this end has been attained in the present instance, the reader will easily judge, when he considers of what vital importance it is that one of the strongest combinations of argument by which the christian religion is defended, should be properly understood, and then attentively examines how much has been done in furtherance of such a result, by the clear and connected diction of the pages devoted to this object. The writings of the inspired apostle St. Paul are distinguished above all others in that volume, which shews so many and such varied examples of christian excellence, by an exhibition of the utmost fervour of feeling, together with the highest intellectual strength. In him, indeed, we perceive, to an extent of which there is no similar instance, how far the noblest energies of the mind, and the keenest sensibilities of the heart, may be made dependent upon each other for their mutual development and growth, and wrought into

an harmonious union of active service to God, and extensive benefit to man, by the overruling presence of that Spirit, before the reception of whose influence both the powers of intellect, and the emotions of sentient existence, are but the willing and perverted instruments of evil. He is the great representative of reason on behalf of revelation, and, armed with the full force of demonstrative truth in addition to that of the most glowing eloquence, converts the regions of abstruse theological discussion into graceful fields of freshness and delight, and, with a power allied to the miraculous authority of the great prophet of the Mosaic dispensation, elicits from the threatening rocks of Sinai the healing streams of gospel gentleness and peace. According to the various subjects embraced by this inspired writer, the several characteristics of his richly endowed mind are more or less prominently conspicuous. In the epistle to the Hebrews, the strength chiefly put forth is essentially argumentative, and the sub

ject to which the argument relates must be acknowledged to be one of the most important in the contemplation of which human reason can be directed. Now, in following a course of reasoning, in which the process is composed of many successive parts, and into which frequent parenthetic digressions are admitted as auxiliary to separate inferences, it is beyond all doubt necessary that we should be able to discern the perfect connexion between the various propositions and their consequences, and to ascertain precisely in what manner the establishment of separate points conduces to the determination of the great question at issue. When considered in this relation, every particle which connects one sentence with another becomes of no common importance, and it is evident that too much pains cannot be taken in the position of expressions and phrases, to render the whole subject as nearly as possible a connected and harmonious system. We do not intend by this to commend that vain and superfluous scholarship, which wastes energies, designed for far better purposes, in battling over inessential terminations and letters, nor that microscopic investigation in which narrower intellects are delighted to indulge, the greatest of whose pompously announced discoveries can scarcely alter by a single shade the value of any given passage with which its laborious trifling happens to be connected, but rather the dis. criminative and judicious exercise of learning as an aid, and not an impediment, to the reflective powers; as the subordinate agent, rather than the despotic mistress of reason; as an instrument which, however capable, if properly managed, of producing great results, must depend for its real worth entirely upon the faculties of those who make use of it. The chief merit of the new translation consists in this-that the author, although fully equal to the task of verbal criticism, when required, devotes his chief attention to placing before the reader the full scope and meaning of the arguments of the apostle in such a consistent and intelligible form, that the least informed may be capable of understanding them, and

AUTHORISED VERSION.
(CAP. VII.)

Therefore leaving the principles of the doctrine of Christ, let us go on to perfection; not laying again the foundation of repentance from dead works, and of faith towards God.

Of the doctrine of baptisms, and of laying on of hands, and of the resurrection of the dead, and of eternal judgment.

And this will we do, if God permit.

For it is impossible for those who were once enlightened, and have tasted of the heavenly gift, and were made partakers of the Holy Ghost,

those of the weakest perceptions able properly to appreciate their power. It is far from our intention to speak lightly of the general impression in favour of the translation of Scripture at present in use. It has been consecrated by the lapse of centuries, and not more so by this adventitious circumstance, than by its own intrinsic merit. Yet, although we would mention it reverently, and with all that due respect which is justly bestowed on such excellence as time has proved, and found uninjured by its powerful test, it cannot be said, that plainness of meaning at all times constitutes the chief merit of the translation of the epistles. Many passages are unintelligible to an ordinary reader, and many links appear wanting to the connectedness of various arguments, either because the necessary words which are implied merely, in the original Greek, have also been left unexpressed in the English version, or because many peculiarities of expression, well understood in the time of our ancestors, have since become obsolete, or assumed a very different meaning. Assuming this to be the fact, the only question which remains to be determined is, whether this inconvenience may be best obviated by the usual mode of commentaries, or by a free translation to be used in connexion with the first version. Much, as we have seen, may be said for the latter, and we would add this especially, that the attention is distracted from the whole drift of a discourse, by the necessity of frequently turning to marginal or separate explanations, and the mind fatigued by a succession of alternate difficulties and solutions long before it arrives at the end of its labours; an objection to which the other method is not in any degree liable. We shall, however, proceed, in illustration of this general observation, to extract a few paragraphs from the translation we are considering, since we are aware that a single instance in point is worth more than a dozen unsupported assertions. The reader will easily perceive how much such clear and connected writing is preferable to disjointed notes and scattered observations,