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divine: and the truths or modes of history are as intellectual, fixed, and immutable (humanly speaking) as the analogies of language, of thought, physical properties and powers, place, or time.

What, therefore, is commonly called BIOGRAPHY and HISTORY, is nothing more than a man, an action, a community, exemplifying a gene

that passes within and around us, registering it at the same time. What is called individual history, whether of a man, of a transaction, of a people, is only a particular individual, clothed for the moment (in our conceptions) with the action, pomp, and circumstance, the passing name of general being. The individual existed in the concrete no doubt; but in our conceptions it must be general character in our intellect-some ralized, or it could not be the object of our conception. It must be assimilated to a general nature: the actions which took seventy years to accomplish, must pass through our minds in fewer minutes. Even when we have the portrait of a man, we always conceive some very general indefinite person, and clothing him with its character, put him upon the scene of our imagination: where he acts his part, dressed as a thousand others have been before him, and a thousand others will be after him, with some variation only of shape, size, circumstance, time and place. So his country is generalized. This conception of ours, by which we call up any historical fact, acts just as a general word does (an attribute) whenever we have occasion for it, to perform, at different times, a different assigned duty or just as a moveable type is successively employed in a hundred different places of the same work, and in a hundred different works. We cannot suppose an idea as individual as the person himself. In that case it would be the very individual, and we must exactly live over again that time, and occupy that space, commensurately, that the individual himself did, or does. This would not be reducing the notice of him to that generality, in which knowledge seems essentially to consist. Whatever happens must, in our minds, become assimilated to some uniform pattern, which pattern can successively represent all individuals of the same class. This uniform is as applicable to all objects of its class, as the common measure of number and extent is applicable to whatever is one, or many, and extended. This I take to be history "whatever happens," or is happenable-if I may use the expression:-THIS is knowledge, when disposed into heads, by means of the analogy of nature, human and GENT. MAG. December, 1819.

common quantity-and thus illus-
trating the meaning of a term in the
lexicon, or table of human know-
ledge: attended with modes, circum-
stances, time, and place: which, on
using or defining any common word
in a dictionary, do necessarily accom-
pany that word, figuring and colour-
ing it in various ways; and ever do
they give an unfaithful colour to it;
there being some refraction (as opti-
cians term it) of the rays of truth in
applying our general ideas to any in-
dividual, or in using any term what-
soever. For words do only approxi
mate to thought, and enable us to
collect, by a species of conjectural
analogy, the meaning (with sufficient
certainty, indeed, for the purpose of
life) rather than define accurately our
meaning. It is rather an inference
we collect from indication, than a
metaphysical certainty, which per-
haps we cannot arrive at with these
faculties, in this state of being.
Words, terms, and narratives of indi
vidual history, personify, or act a
character, raising curiosity, and cer-
tain ideas in our minds, in a more or
less lively and interesting manner:
and those words and terms do it best
and nearest to truth-that generalize
best-and thus becoine standing
terms, glasses of the least possible
refraction. For words are ever sug-
gesting numerous analogies, besides
the one proposed. But some fact
must have" happened." Our great
subject is truth, and lively impres
sion, or ideal picture of being. This
is our main business in this passing
state; towards, perhaps, acquiring,
in another state, higher faculties and
more perfect mediums for conceiving
the great and only true Being.
this conception of what happens, we
must know it, where, when, and as it
happens, to estimate how far it is
consonant to such imperfect standards
as we have, and to furnish the greater

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number of analogies to check each other. Whereupon, by a process of induction and analysis, we collect from various positions, the fair result. While the general faculties of man, intellectual and moral; of speech; of calculation; of distribution of social government, and of taste, are more in the analogy of truth, than those of any individual can be and knowledge may be defined the induction from general, to particular and individual notices.

This historical conception of our experiences in any narration, is as much an abstract truth, a species of the intellect, as the logicians call it, as any principle of the arts and sciences. Nor can we think, talk, or understand what is said to us, but by such general ideas. A mind of individual experiences only, would be bereft of the power of thinking, just as a language of proper names would be equivalent to the having no language at all.

At the same time every man is not only an individual, but his experience is of individuals; his perception, his wants, his actions, are individual: every thing around him is individual -has, or might have, its proper name, time, and place, with other circumstances and modes of being. But the notices of it must be abstracted in his mind, that is, assimilated to general, or historical ideas, before it can become a subject of other men's interest, conversation, conception or even of his own proper conception. This historical reduction of it, is a logical process, natural and instinctive, in other minds, by their divine and immortal nature: an intelligence which is the great Recorder of being-as conscience is of the morality of our motives and actions: if conscience, indeed, be not rather another energy of the same, one invisible faculty which possesses us, and not, as some think it, a distinct faculty *.

Now as the present is but a point, the point in the continuous thread of

existence, at which we happen to touch when now speaking, and as it is incessantly spinning off into the past, before we can so much as utter it in words, we cannot form an idea of any thing till after it becomes among things past. So that every perception we can form, every thought, is an historical notice. By graving this in letters, we fix its existence stop its transitoriness-so far, at least, that we can renew and re-produce the idea of it unaltered— at pleasure: and can make it as ever present to us as any other truth of art and science, styled immutable.

In the mental conception of our experience, in the memory of it afterwards, as well as in the express narration, every thing is submitted to reduction, selection, and becomes more generalized-that is, less individual; it must be transmitted into something of the spiritual nature of mind. Besides contracting the events of years into the duration of a few hours, or seconds, when they pass in review before us-we bring wideextended and distant places near to us—to a point. And as in perspective, a distant mountain must fill a small space in the angle of vision, while a blade of grass near to us, occupies a very large one-we correct this by our judgment:-so the historical relation performs somewhat of the same operation in its pictures, and selections. Otherwise, indeed, every act of memory must be commensurate in duration with that of its subject of contemplation: an attribute which can belong only to the all-powerful, 'omniscient, and omnipresent Being. This process of reduction and generalising, is the common measure by which we can bring together, collate, compare, and estimate, any two transactions, however different and wide asunder, and thus arrive at any further inference or conclusion.

By this means the mind can conceive any number, variety, or extent, of objects; and thus the modes of

* The same may be said with regard to the faculty of taste — - that it is rather a distinct energy of one common faculty, called mind, or intelligence, than a distinct faculty of itself, or internal sense. Though there seems, it must be owned, the same logical difference between our internal reflex senses, as between the external ones. But as these belong still to ONE mind-this gives them historical identity and unity of operation: indeed, otherwise their notices would be independent—and no more communicative for one purpose than the senses of sight and hearing placed asunder in two distinct beings.

human

human knowledge may be reduced to a scale differing in degrees only. The compass of the scale is from generals to particulars. Science, poetry, narration, occupy different points of the scale, and all are alike historical. An occurrence in real life, a transaction, an anecdote, a story, a life of some illustrious in„dividual, a history of a whole people, the EPOPEIA of HOMER, a review, a statement, a well-drawn-up report of circumstances in a speech, in a writing, a classification of things into species after some common connexion; of these again into genera, through some further common counexion, by which we arrive at science: these all are but so many modes of history, differing only in selection, degrees of reduction, and in having more or less compression, with more, or less, of the generalising principle.

(To be continued.)

Mr. URBAN,

THE

*

YORICK.

Kilkenny, Dec. 8. HE arguments of your Correspondent XXX. p. 319, impugn ing the correctness of my explanation of a passage in Shakspeare's Antony and Cleopatra, and supporting that of Dr. Warburton, have not changed my opinion of the latter, I now suspect that the old original text may be satisfactorily explained without the alteration of a single letter:the old copies read, "most monsterlike be shown for poorest diminutives, for dolts:” of these words Warburton changed “ dolts” to dvits, and Tyrwhitt substituted to for the last "for." To me it appears that the proud Antony scornfully designates the rabble of Rome by two epithets; by the first of which ("diminutives") the mean and insignificant station in society; and by the latter the intel lectual + grossness of the persons alluded to, are emphatically expressed.

I proceed to add a few remarks connected with the subjects of my former communication. I observe that Mr. Todd has noticed the custom of affixing verses to the Pall, which for

merly prevailed at Cambridge, in hist note on these lines of Milton's second Elegy:

"Vestibus hunc igitur pullis, Academia, luge,

Et madeant lachrymis nigra feretra tuis."

"Lachrymis tuis," Mr. Todd thinks, are the funeral poems, like "melodious tear" in Lycidas, ver. 14, where see the note for a detailed account and interesting quotations. Todd's Milton, 2nd edit. 1809, vol. VI. p. 16, and vol. VII. p. 190.

The article in a late Quarterly Review on Wilkins's Vitruvius, induced me to peruse Mr. Wilkins's very learned and ingenious remarks on the Homeric Poems; and I freely confess that they appear powerfully to support the opinion of Dr. Butler. The Prolegomena ad Homerum I have never seen. I cannot, however, retract my opinion that the transcendant excellence of several parts of the Odyssey renders them perfectly worthy of the author of the Iliad, and that (in my judgment) they bear internal evidence of having proceeded from him to whom all the great critics of antiquity uniformly ascribed' them.

Yours, &c. WM. SHANAHAN, M.D.

Mr. URBAN, Kilkenny, Dec. 9.

HE following anecdote may amuse

with the Bibliomania. During the last spring a friend of mine (resident in this city) entered a sale-room in Dublin just as the auctioneer was putting up a few old volumes considered of little value: one gem, however, was in the rubbish; for my friend obtained for fifty shillings a fine copy (in very sound condition, but wanting five leaves), of Pynson's edition of Barclay's "Shyp of Folys of the Worlde," imprynted in London, 1509, exactly answering Mr. Dibdin's account of this rare book in his “Ames's Typographical Antiquities," vol. II. p. 431.

On comparing it with Cawood's reprint, 1570, the latter appears nearly equal in beauty to its renowned predecessor in Pynson's book there is

• Such is the text of the 4th folio, 1685, the only one at present within my reach. +I refer the reader to a curious passage (not wholly unknown to Mr. Burke) in Sir Thomas Browne's Religio Medici, part the second, section the first; page 134, 12mo. edition, 1642.

A fine copy of Cawood's book is in the library of St, Canice's Cathedral, in this city; a library containing a large number of the best and rarest editions (by the Aldi

and

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Ancient Anecdotes, &c. from VALERIUS MAXIMUS, by Dr. CAREY, West Square.

(Continued from p. 406.)

Dhalf, the Roman soldier (as an individual) solely depended, in battle, on his untaught valour and physical powers. At length, in the year six hundred and forty-eight from the building of the city, the consul Publius Rutilius first introduced fencingmasters into the Roman army, and set the example of systematically training the men to the scientific use of the sword and shield. The fencing-masters were procured from a school of gladiators.-Lib. 2, 3, 2.

URING near six centuries and a

During nearly six centuries, the Romans had no theatre. In the year of the City 599, the censors Messala and Cassius undertook to erect one. But, on a motion of Scipio Nasîca, the senate ordered all the materials to be publicly sold by auction; and moreover passed a decree, that no seats should be erected for the purpose of viewing public games or other exhibitions, either in the city, or within a mile of it; and that none of the spectators should be allowed to sit. This prohibition was intended to habituate the citizens to the manly attitude of standing erect, as a characteristic of Roman hardihood. Lib. 2, 4, 2.

Until the year of Rome 559, the senators and the plebeians stood pro

miscuously together to view the public exhibitions. At the period above mentioned, that practice was first infringed, and the senators were separated from the commons, by the advice of the elder Scipio Africanus, who, on that account, lost much of his former popularity.-Lib. 2, 4, 2.

Pantomime at Rome seems to have originated with Livius Andronicus, about the latter part of the fifth century from the foundation of the city. That dramatist was accustomed to act his own pieces; and being frequently called upon to repeat (or, as we say, encored), he found his voice so much affected by those extraordinary exertions, that he had recourse to the expedient of employing a substitute to recite or sing the words to the usual accompaniment of the flute, while he himself performed in dumb show.-Lib. 2, 4, 3.

The first public exbibition of gla diators at Rome was in the year of the city 489. It was given by Marcus and Decius Brutus, to honor their father's funeral.-Lib. 2, 4, 7.

No trial for poisoning ever occurred at Rome, nor was any law enacted against it, until the year 422, when, on the information of a female slave, one hundred and seventy matrons were convicted of taking or attempting their husbands' lives by poison. A number of the guilty dames were condemned to capital punishment.Lib. 2, 5, 3.

It was the custom of the Spartans not to march forth to battle, till their spirits were roused by the sound of the flute, and songs in the anapæslic measure*.-They used scarlet for their military dress, to prevent the sight of their blood from operating as an encouragement to the enemy. -Lib. 2, 6, 2.

It was customary at Athens, that the supreme council of the Areopagus should oblige every man to give an account of the means from which be derived his subsistence.—Lib. 2, 6, 4. At Athens, any freedman (or mauu

and Elzevirs) of the Greek and Roman Classics; some very scarce old English books; and a great collection of the most rare, beautiful, and valuable works in Italian Literature. There are about 5000 volumes, to which not a book has been added during the last fifty or sixty years. Almost all the valuable works were formerly the property of Bishop Maurice, a tasteful collector, who enriched these shelves with the entire of his excellent library.

1

* Of the martial character and effect of the Anapastic metre, in English as well as in Greek and Latin, I have taken particular notice, in the Preface to the third edition of my "Latin Prosody made easy,"

H

mised slave), who was found guilty of ingratitude to his patron (or late master), was deprived of his freedom, and reduced to his former state of servitude.-Lib. 2, 6, 6.

At Marseilles (a Greek colony) a similar custom prevailed; with this difference, however, that the offending freedman might be three times sent back to slavery: but, for the fourth offence, the master no longer had the power of reclaiming him; it being considered as his own fault, that he had exposed himself to such repetition of the offender's ungrateful conduct.-Lib. 2, 6, 7.

At the gate of the same city, lay two chests, or coffins-the one for the bodies of free persons, the other for those of slaves. In these, the dead were conveyed in a cart to the place of sepulture, without wailing or lamentation; and the mourning was terminated on the day of the funeral, by a domestic sacrifice, and a convivial entertainment given to the relatives and friends of the deceased.Lib. 2, 6, 7.

Marseilles again.—In that city, was constantly kept, by public authority, a ready-prepared poisonous draught, to be administered to any person, who could, to the satisfaction of the supreme council, show sufficient cause for wishing to die.-Lib. 2, 6, 7.

A similar custom prevailed in the Grecian isle of Keos or Côs: and Valerius Maximus relates, that he himself witnessed, in that island, the following instance of it. A lady of the highest rank-who had reached her ninetieth year in the enjoyment of constant prosperity, and the perfect use of all her faculties, mental and corporeal, with the additional satisfaction of seeing her two daughters the happy mothers of seven children-actually applied for, and publicly drank, the deadly potion, from no other motive, than the apprehension (as she said) of perhaps living to experience some change of that good fortune, which had for so many years invariably attended her. -Lib. 2, 6, 8.

(To be continued.)

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wishing to prefix to it some account of the writer, I take the liberty of requesting information on the following points, which are necessary to the completion of the memoir.

The Walker family, of whom the Admiral was a member, trace their descent, as I have understood, from the celebrated David Gam, alias Llewellin, whose memorable speech, when sent to reconnoitre the French army, previous to the Battle of Agincourt, has obtained him such bonourable mention in the page of English History. Some of your readers may, perhaps, be enabled to trace the Admiral's Pedigree from this distinguished character.

Sir Chamberlain Walker, who was one of the physicians to Queen Anne, was also a branch of the same family; and I am desirous of obtaining some authentic particulars respecting him likewise, and his affinity to the Admiral.

When and where was the Admiral born? and who was his wife? From the Journal now lying before me, and which includes the whole of the year 1708, it appears that she had been the widow of an officer, and as such received a pension from Government.

My earliest information respecting the Admiral reaches back no further than the year 1702, six years prior to the date of the volume of his Journals which I possess; at this period he was in the command of the Burford, one of a fleet under the orders of Sir George Rooke, by whom he was dispatched with five more thirdrates, and a fleet of 10 transports, carrying four regiments, to the West Indies, where an attempt was made by the land forces, under General Codrington, upon the island of Guadeloupe, but with little success-and that little owing to the support given by Commodore Walker in the Chi

chester.

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