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last Session, without bringing forward even the outline of a plan for the removal of evils of the most alarming magnitude, it was more than probable that the cause of our distresses would be found to lie deeper than was at first imagined. The capricious character of the public mind has hitherto rendered it hazardous, in the judg ment of our most enlightened Statesmen, to apply any of the remedies that have been suggested by Reformists; and now, because the origin of our disorder is traced not in the mal-administration of existing laws, but in the individuals themselves who compose society-like way ward children, we refuse to listen to the voice of an instructor.

Valuing philosophical enquiries so far only as they may contribute to the happiness of mankind, I disclaim all participation in the opinions Mr. Owen has expressed on the subject of faith. It is sufficient for me to observe, that as in his projected villages perfect freedom of religious sentiment will prevail; whether he subscribes to any Creed or not, is a consideration which can form no rational ground of objection to the plan itself.

There have been few arguments advanced in opposition to the New View of Society, which Mr. Owen has not anticipated and completely refuted; but there is an imaginary barrier, which reflecting men, sincerely desirous of affording this permanent relief to the labouring classes, are apprehensive will oppose their best endeavour. "As a proof of the impossibility of making all mankind rational, good, and happy, by any general system of education, it is remarked that in families where children have experienced precisely the same treatment and instruction, their characters are found widely to differ, and consequently there must be a constitutional defect in some minds which will effectually prevent them from becoming respectable members of society." It will appear by the following extract, that Mr. Owen has not overlooked the variety to be found in the natural dispositions of individuals.

"Man is born with combined propensities and qualities, differing in degree and power, and in combination sufficient to create through life individuality and distinctness of person and charac

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There can be no doubt that some will make slower progress in moral and intellectual improvement than others; but that there exists in the mental constitution of any individual an insuperable obstacle to the practice of the greatest virtues, I cannot admit. If there is any truth in the long-established position of Mr. Locke, that there are no ideas but such as result from sensation and reflection, then is the character chiefly formed by the circumstances with which it is surrounded. When we observe that man partakes of that general character which prevails in the country where he is born; that he is of any religion he may be taught; that even his manners and the lighter shades of character are regulated by the sphere in which he moves; that different countries and different ranks in society have each a peculiar character; is it possible to suppose that all this does not arise from external circumstances ? The most virtuous dispositions have originated from external causes: by observing what those causes have been, and carefully applying them in the discipline of youth, they will inevitably lead to a similar result. It is not that our systems of education, though in many respects faulty, are deficient in excellent practical precepts, but that the counteracting influence of society defeats the benefit of instruction. Those objects impressed upon the mind in the course of study are effaced by others more powerful, and to which they are opposed in an intercourse with the world. Children of one family, and educated together, would subsequently display the same general character, if the external excitements of society did not elicit those bad qualities which would otherwise lie dormant. It is the different degree of power and combination in natural propensities and qualities which renders some more obnoxious to temptation than others, and prevents that general good conduct which

must

must prevail in the "New View of Society," where every pernicious excitement is withdrawn.

Pride, when presented to the mind abstractedly, creates repugnance; but how unconsciously are we reconciled to its various gradations in the different ranks of life. That it should so insinuate itself can be readily accounted for, since it is fostered in the nursery and in our schools; it is first introduced under the milder character of Emulation, but even in this its most inoffensive form, it is a principle resting upon the degradation or inferiority of others, and totally at variance with Christian motives *. If equal pains were taken to instil into the minds of youth principles of benevolence, the gratification of being enabled to perform a beneficent act, as the reward of diligence, would soon become a more powerful incentive than the desire of excelling: and thus by reiterated acts of kindness they would acquire benevolent habits, the pleasures of which would be found far too exquisite to be exchanged for any other, especially as they would then become associated with all their earliest impressions. In men so trained, and in a society of mutual co-operation, Pride, Envy, Avarice, and Anger, with all the bad passions, would not only be placed more under the dominion of Reason, but the stimulus to their exertion would no longer exist. Thus, a two-fold operation would be performed. In the preventive system, the removal of temptation,and in sedulously watching the early association of ideas, consisted the chief excellence of the laws of Lycurgus, and he produced the martial and patriotic character he designed; why then should we despair of success in the application of these principles to higher objects?

When Plato was asked by what signs a traveller might know immediately on his arrival in any city that education is neglected, he replied, "if he finds that Physicians and Judges are necessary." How does it arise that in a Metropolis where education prevails more than at any former period, practitioners in law and phy

* See the admirable chapter on the Desire of Human Estimation and Applause, in Mr. Wilberforce's Practical View of Christianity.

sick are become more essentially necessary? Was the Philosopher in error, or shall we not rather find that the education he had in view was one that provided for the wants both of body and mind: not an education where Youth are taught one set of principles in the academy, and another in society. It is in vain to instruct children in the important duties of morality and religion, if, upon the same day they receive these lessons, they are exposed to the temptations of want, and to the contagion of vicious intercourse.

There is not, Mr. Urban, any inherent depravity in human nature which a Christian education, in a society formed upon the basis of Mr. Owen's true and unerring principles of political economy, cannot overcome. They are our own errors alone that impede the melioration of mankind; not the real, but the factitious wants of society: the former can now be supplied in superabundance, and through the aid of mechanism with very moderate exertion; and as for the latter, they will all be expelled under a better system, and in the more extended practice of genuine Christianity.

Those who rank first in the order of created beings, and are endowed with superior intelligence, must submit to the humiliation of learning social union from the insect tribes. Man, it is true, has, in the improvement of his intellectual faculties, loftier aims to pursue than that to which instinct directs the bee: but is the attainment of his object facilitated by a departure from those simple laws which Nature has presented to his view in the economy of the hive? On the contrary, do not his struggles for subsistence, or for the gratification of imaginary wants, not only deprive him of the opportunity of cultivating his reasoning powers, but privations and misery abound, although the aggregate of food, of cloathing, and of shelter amounts to superfluity? Yours, &c. Mr. URBAN,

CHRISTIANUS.

Jan. 7. HE assertions in the Letter of

TW. B. 5. (vol. LXXXVII. ii. p. 404,) were to me so novel, as greatly to surprize me, and to excite my anxious interest to have their truth

or

or falsehood ascertained. He says that "the ringleaders and principal abettors of the plan," (i.e. of the Traitors who were lately executed at Derby)" were mostly of the Society called Methodists *: that in Dissenting Chapels the meetings" (i. e. of these same Traitors, if I understand him aright) "were held, their plans laid, and the business discussed:" that "from their Conventicles they issued forth to put their plan in execution, and from Religion they proceeded to Murder" and that, in short, the Methodists "instigate to crimes, and, not content with this, are equally ready to justify" them.

Having known, and intimately and extensively known, the Methodists in different parts of England, upwards of forty years, I am assured that the principles which they uniformly profess, the rules of conduct which they inculcate, and the practice of all of them (I say, all of them, without exception) with whom I have been con

versant, are directly at variance with

W. B. S.'s representation. I am not unaware that faults, and some of magnitude, exist among them; but disaffection to the existing Government, or an insurrectionary spirit, are not in the number. As a body of people, they are rather characterized by inclinations and habits positively

the reverse.

W. B. S.'s Letter, therefore, astonished me; and, as I reside in a part of the kingdom distant from the scene of the late traitorous rising, I felt it due to myself, and to some endeared connexions among that religious society, to make enquiries of persons on the spot, who were likely to know the truth as to what he has asserted. The information I have received gives me reason to believe that those assertions are unworthy of any credit. The grounds on which I form my opinion it is not now necessary to adduce: an anonymous accusation, without proof, is sufficiently repelled by an anonymous denial. The Methodists had no concern, either as a body or as individuals, with the late insurrection, of which it is difficult to say

* By this term I understand W. B. S. to mean the followers of the late John Wesley, whose name he expressly mentions; and I beg to be understood as speaking of those only.

whether the wickedness or the folly were more glaring and extravagant.

There are many other parts of W. B. S.'s Letter which are open to animadversion, and shew him to have written under the dominion of passion and prejudice. Nothing but the blinding influence of that dominion could have urged him to put the question, "If the Clergy are obliged to give pledges of behaviour and testimonials of life and character, ought not Dissenting Teachers to be called to the same test ?"-and not perceive the obvious answer to it, That the Clergy have a Maintenance secured to them by Law, while the Dissenting Teacher has nothing, and expects nothing, from the State, but protection in common with his fellow-subjects. Of this protection it is the tendency, if not the intention, of W. B. S.'s inflammatory Letter to deprive them. J. W. D.

Mr. URBAN,

Jan. 8.

THE appearance of the Works of

Genius, to whatever class they may belong, which are admired for their superior splendour, or esteemed for a more than ordinary happiDess of accomplishment, almost inevitably leads others on to emulation; some, with unaspiring wishes of following the track of what they esteem, or of copying what they admire; some, with more lofty aspirations of rivalling what has given them delight, or of surpassing what may have excited the baser feelings of envy; and such consequences in every possible shape and bearing we often perceive to have followed the appearance of the more admired productions in the Poetical World. We are informed, that even many of the most durable monuments of fame, the most illustrious Poets, have owed their origin and existence to some trivial circumstance, or some slight idea, originating from others that have long been as forgotten as if they had never been known.

Ariosto was an honour to his Country, and the glory of his age. The general regard and universal admiration bis Orlando Furioso attracted was a cause to which the world are indebted for not a few other Poems of great merit and extensive celebrity; and these not confined to Italy alone. But on this

point it is quite unnecessary to dilate. The Poem of which I now intend to give a short description, was written with the intention to continue the narrative of Ariosto's noble performance. Of Ariosto, it is impossible not cordially to agree with the opinion expressed by Mr. Roscoe, "that his Works contributed more than those of any other Author, to diffuse a true Poetical Spirit throughout Europe."

Philip Des Portes, author of this Poem, was born at Chatres, in 1546. His writings had much effect towards helping the progress and purity of the French Language. Few Poets met with such high reputation during their life, and perhaps none in those ages were so well rewarded for their productions, as he is reported to have been. It is said he received from Charles IX. for the present poem, eight hundred crowns of gold. Like some others of his Countrymen, the extensive celebrity and fame which he then enjoyed were speedily forgot, when once the object

of it was removed from the intercourse of his admirers. Of him, we may use the words of a well-known writer respecting those whose merits have been over-rated by the prejudices and partialities of friends or contemporaries, when he with much truth remarks, "that one generation seems to pride itself upon defacing the idols of the last; and not unfrequently they destroy to-day the golden calf which yesterday they set up; and when idolaters turn iconoclasts, they act as if the outrageousness of the one excess were to efface or atone for the folly of the other." Such was the fate of Des Portes, and such is the fate of a hundred others. Of the merits of his Poem, the Reader will soon be enabled to judge from a few specimens that will be introduced.

The translator was Gervase, or Jervis Markham, a name of frequent occurrence to collectors of Old English Literature. And the present little volume may be entitled to the more respect, by considering its rarity*,

Markham in his preface informs us, "that this Paraphraset was first intended for one priuat mans repast, and not for a wedding-table; the time when Poesie was lesse, but more beloued; Poets fewer, but not so bitter; and Readers in generall, by much, much better affected."-And in another place admonishes the Reader that should "any deformitie" appear in the Poem, it only lies" in his English apparell: and no wonder (he continues) for I protest the Translation was finisht, and foorth of my hands, aboue a dozen yeares agone, a time wherein bumbasted breeches and straite whale-bon'd doublets had neither use nor estimation."

As the "Argument of the Poem " sufficiently informs us of the incidents it records, I shall here transcribe it, and insert some occasional extracts from both the original and translation, from which their comparative merits may be estimated.

"Rodomonth, King of Argier and Sarza, beeing a man of most extreame pride and courage, comming into Fraunce with King Agramant, who to reuenge the death of Traiano his father, slaine by Pipin King of Fraunce, had conducted thither a most puissant armie against Charlimaine, the sonne of Pipin after the warres were almost finished, and both Agramant, Mandricard, Gradasso, and diuers other kings slaine, this Rodomonth vnderstanding that Rogero, a Prince of excellent verfederate and assistant vnto Agramant, tue and prowesse, who also was a con

was not onely conuerted and becomed a Christian, but also should take to Aimon, one of the twelue Peeres of wife Bradamant, the daughter of Duke Fraunce.'

When in the midst of the Nuptial rejoicings,

"Charles plac't between The bride and bridegroom, (on whom beuty feeds :)

He saw a mighty man clad all in blacke, Mounted vpon a mighty courser's backe." Approaching, "with disdainfull eie, Sending contempt

Thus vnto Roger and the rest he spake.

* It bears the following title: "Rhodomanths Infernall; or, the Diuell conquered. Ariostos Conclusions, &c. &c. At London, printed by V. S." [for Nicholas Ling, 1598?] in sm. 8vo. El in eights. Dedicated by G. M. to Lord Mount-eagle. Of its rarity it may be sufficient to state that Ritson was ignorant of its existence he merely mentions that Nicolas Ling had a licence for printing it in 1598.

The French poem is comprised in 723 lines, the English is enlarged to 1192, or 149 eight-line stanzas.

Roger,

Roger, I am Rodomount the king

Of fruitfull Argier on the Affricke bounds,

Whome virtue and renowne doth hither bring

To chalenge thee, false traitor, whose name sounds

In heathen eares like Jews trumps when they ring,

And will approoue, that in thy heart abounds

Falshood vnto thy chieftaine and thy faith,

Which from thy birth thou shouldst
preserue til death.

And therewithall auerre, that no true
knight
[fame,
Ought to dispute of thee, or of thy
Thogh (brasen-facde) thou shunnest not
the light,
[claime:
Which of thy monstrous perjuries ex-
All which to justifie in single fight,
Beholde my hand made ready for the

same,

A mighty engin, made by Nature's skill,
To scourge thy damned execrable ill.
Yet, if thy coward's heart pine with re-
morse,
[faint in sinne:
And certaine knowledge make thee
Chuse for thine ayde, to double thy dead
force,
[thy courage in :
Some of these knights that hemme.
Foure, five, or if full twenty, nere the
[fame shall win,'
The more they mount, the more my
Whilst I immortaliz'd by this great
deede,
[shall bleed."
Wil triumph when thy tre'bling heart

worse;

yet he had slaine vnluckily: and about that castle, he is bound by the Destinies to wander for an hundred yeares, because his body wanted buriall."

Such is the argument of this Poem. Allow me then to make a few extracts.

The Hell Scene I conceive to be particularly striking, but it is too long to give at full length. Attracted by the cries of Charon, Pluto "sweats and torments himself, while he begins to fret, to scold, and frowne," and Proserpine, as she is called, "the faire Lauthorne of Hell, the paramour to Dis," encourages him, by calling the damned souls to his aid with flattering words, to resist the Pagan King, who vows that he

"In spight of Plutoes deitie, Will there in hell ereet his emperie."

The French original narrates his progress,

"Chacun fuit au deuant quelque part

qu'il s'auance,

Et luy qui continue en sa fiere arrogance, Saute dessus le pont, & s'en fait possesseur!

Car de crainte surpris le chien engloutis

seur,

Et les tristes fureurs de sang entretachées

S'estoient au fond d'Auerne honteusement cachées."

Markham renders and enlarges these lines in the following manner: "Where ere he went, the Furies filed before him, [their flight, The whilst his pride augmented by All things without hell gates ran to adore him; [bis sight,

And now the draw-bridge stands within On it he prowdly leaps, that quaking bore him, [King, and Knight: And vaunts himselfe thereof Lord, For why th' Ecchiddmian curre for feare was fled, [head. And in the burning lake did hide his And now he pulls the Eban bridge in sunder, [heeles,

Rogero singly accepts the King of Sarza's challenge, when, after a "fellfought battell," (the description of which fills more than 30 cantos) the Pagan king is slain, "whose soul, after his death, (retaining the violence, furie, and madnesse, which he possesst in his life) descending into Hell" there quarrels with old Charon, and buffeting and striking " up the old man's heeles," he overturns boat and all, and then (in the translator's words) "maketh open warres against Pluto, the god of Hell, and euen conquereth and turmoileth all the diuels therein till hauing ouerheated himselfe, and seeking for water to quench his thirst, be happeneth vpon Lethe, the riuer of Forgetfulnesse; on which, when he had drunke, hee instantly forgat all that was past (except Loue) and so returneth backe to the earth: where he wandred, till he found the Castle of Isabella, the daughter of the King of Spaine; whom albe he had formerly loued most entirely, Or like small flies about a candle's flame,

:

And hauing Charon this while by the Like to a maull makes his old pate to thunder, [lars reeles." Beating the bridge, whose rented pilThe invocation of the Stygian ghosts, by Pluto, the Infernall King,' is remarkably singular: it is said these ghosts,

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"Like crowes about a carrion newlie slaine,

So

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