of a fatal character, which bespeak personal jealousy, and individual mischief; indeed, I am apprehensive that at least two memorable assassinations will be heard of about this time. Something, too, of a most atrocious nature seems, by the signs of last month, to have been detected; and the author will, it appears, be, in some manner, publicly degraded. I wish all political craftsmen would be persuaded to think that honesty is really the best policy, and be induced to act up to the maxim. It is surprising that statesmen have, in general, so very little regard to the warnings of Providence and the experience of all past ages." "It does appear,” says Sir Willon, "that some are about to enjoy better times. I wish I could inform my read ers that this refers to England; but it is a more western nation, (we hope Ireland,) and I should think Spain, or rather the Spanish people of South America, which is now probably settling a new and liberal system of independence. The position of the moon, I regret to remark, bodes something rather unfavourable to the popular cause of Great Britain."

or

But these extracts are sufficient to shew the spirit in which the New Prophetic Almanack is got up; and perhaps our strictures may have the effect of increasing the sale, for "a time," "half a time," among a class of readers whom it is not likely the work has yet reached. In case, however, they should fail of this effect, we cannot resist the temptation of introducing a very philosophical disquisition concerning comets, and so conclude.

"On Comets, as lessons of destiny, the remarks I have to make, although confined to an individual case, must, I anticipate, educe as well the acquiescence as the surprise of every sensible mind, though it will not be possible to do justice to my subject in the narrow limits that remain open. If we turn to look at those mighty heroes of former ages, suffixed to whose names we behold these imposing words, "THE GREAT," let us at the same time recollect that an individual of our own time, by an extraordinary course of adventures, without the stubborn force of prejudice, and the secret and powerful engine-work of state-craft to ply with, lifted himself from a station the most obscure and low to a pinnacle of glory the most gorgeous and exalted. Need it be said that the now harmless Napoleon is the object of these remarks? Without entering upon speculations concerning the application of such an instrument by the hand of Providence, and without tracing his career of fame, to his for lorn end, be it, first of all, here remember

ed, that he was born in August, 1769; and, for several months immediately preceding his birth, the Northern regions of the heavens were visited by one of those signal messengers to which the attention of the reader is now expressly solicited. Secondly, Without following his steps to the summit of his fame, let us pause a moment to behold him upon it, surrounded by majesty of his own creating-himself seated on the throne of the world! Spain, on his West, the allotted portion of one brotherWestphalia of another, on his Eastern Quarter-Holland, on his North, receives the third for her King-and with the Crown of Naples, on his South, he decks the husband of his sister! At every point that seemed to afford security to his Empire were his military Dukes and minor relatives posted on high pedestals of honour; and thus may we say that he seemed to have stamped the validity of solid the illustrious Archduchess of Austria. greatness by his marriage at this time with Indeed, nothing human could appear more stable than the Monarchy of France in 1811. I have now reason to call again for calm and candid attention.-At the meridian of his glory, which I have just been describing, a Comet of prodigious character came to witness his eminent station. Returning from his perihelion, that magnificent luminary became faintly perceptible at the beginning of September, 1811, at which time it had acquired 26° of Celestial North Latitude, and was then vertical in the Latitude of Corsica, and the Southern Extremity of Natural France. Its splendour continued to increase until it had reached 48° of Celestial Latitude, at which time blazing with unspeakable splendour it stood upon the Zenith of Paris and its Latitude. Having traversed the heavens in such a track as to reign vertically over every point of Latitude from South to North of France, let it be, of all things, most strictly noticed, that its highest degree of lustre was at that particular time when it was on the Meridian and Zenith of Paris at Noon-day! After it had attained these limits northward in the heavens it retreated again towards the South, retracing back again the latitudes of France from North to South, until it vanished at that point of declination where it had first become visible, namely, over the latitude of Corsica!-Can any reflecting mind fail to associate the appearance of this illustrious messenger of the skies with the fate of that prodigy of men, who then reigned over the world with a lustre, perhaps, unparalleled? -But the victory of Death over this once controller of kings, and terror of nations, has been recently achieved; and during his few latter weeks, whilst the spirit of his mortal existence was gradually evaporating, did not the blazing star of Fate

again appear as though it came, a bark launched on the calm, wide, azure sea of heaven to meet his soul expiring; and to bear it, hence departed, to its realm of rest!-Its errand, be it what it might, these facts we know, that at his birth it ministered-it came again and testified his fame-once more it came to beam upon his bier!-As it suits thyself, improve this lesson, reader, shall I say, whilst wishing for thy welfare and my country's weal, my leave I, for this time take, and say, in heart, Farewell!"

We ought, perhaps, to apologise for

noticing so gravely a work so contemptible; but it was not on account of its merits but its nefarious tendency. There is, however, another publication, not certainly of the same class, but in some degree of the same kind, that appears to be conducted with considerable ability and taste, entitled, "TIME'S TELESCOPE for 1822;" and we reproach ourselves for not having left room to notice it more particularly.

We have long looked with a kindly eye on this interesting and excellent publication, and gladly seize an opportunity of saying a few words on its character and merits. Those of our readers who before were unacquainted with the work, which, we believe, is not so well known in this part of the kingdom as it should be, may thank us for pointing out to them a new source of gratification.

Mere bibliography is perhaps of all things, except to bibliographers, the most jejune and unattracting. The labour which is employed in transcribing title-pages and investigating Colophons, in examining books whose sole recommendation is their rarity, without looking farther for gratification than a date or an imprimatur, is sure ly, of all modes which literature presents of employment, the most idle, insane, and preposterous. The rearer of tulips, or the fancier of china, stands on an equal footing, with respect to the dignity and utility of his occupation, with the mere bibliographer. The pursuit of the latter is indeed innocent, and as such free from serious objection; but, in order to give it hearty toleration, it seems difficult, if not impossible, to satisfy the scruples of taste. There is something utterly revolting in dwelling only on the minutest parts of the externals of learning, when all its inner stores are expanded before us, in quitting the noble, spacious, and open path of science, for its dark, dusky, and circuitous lanes, and, as if insensible to the vastness of its grandeur and magnificence, to hang only with pleasure on the mean, low, and little. It is, besides, a sort of profanation which all good feeling and good sense seem loudly to exclaim

against. Literature, in short, is so mighty an instrument, and so noble a weapon, that we cannot endure patiently to see it converted into a toy.

The present work has higher and more exalted pretensions than merely to the character of a bibliographical journal. Its design is best explained by the title-page-"The Retrospective Review, consisting of Criticisms upon, Analyses of, and Extracts from, curious, useful, and valuable Books, in all Languages, which have been published since the revival of Literature to the commencement of the present Century." And the design is certainly excellent. To throw into the examination of the treasures of modern literature something of that life, spirit, and acuteness, which have been hitherto almost exclusively appropriated to criticisms on the productions of the dayto familiarize the readers of the present time with the old and venerable models of writing in our language—to introduce to us the various gems, hitherto little known amongst us, in the literature of other countries-and to enlarge the theatre of discursive criticism, by discarding the limits which the avidity for ephemeral trash has imposed upon it, are surely objects which must meet with universal approval; and these are the objects of the reviewers. The present may perhaps be denominated an idle age. Learning is so widely extended, that, as it is increased in surface, it is lamentably diminished in depth. At present, all are readers, and all are superficial readers. It is sufficient with the generality to be acquainted with the glittering novelties of the day; for the blandishments of which, the hardier and more enduring productions of other periods are neglected. As books

have multiplied, reading has diminished, till at last, we seem, in despair, inclined to do nothing, because we cannot run through all. It is time, then, to apply a corrective to the listless, yet arrogant superficiality, which at present characterizes us, by extracting the essence of learning, and culling the various flowers which are spread in rank, but unheeded profusion, over its wide parterre, by opening to the view of our contemporaries more worthy objects of imitation than the "lights which now are hanging in the heavens," and strengthening them by converse with the mighty spirits of yore, by making that literary diet which alone can restore their stomach to its proper tone of more frequent use and benefit, and by tempering the rawness and insubstantiality of the writings of our day, by a full, vigorous, and efficacious admixture of the powerful draughts of our ancestors. Much of this a work on the principle of the Retrospective Review seems calculated to do; and, therefore, we will enter more closely into a survey of the field which lies open for its criticisms.

The literature of our own country has, of course, the first claims upon its attention. The great performances of that race of giants which made it illustrious in the age of Elizabeth, however they may be talked of, are less read and studied, in fact, than Mrs Glass's Cookery. This may appear a broad assertion, but it is, nevertheless, a true one. We will venture to assert, that Bacon, whose writings would almost counterpoise the literature of any other country, is in reality less known than Thomas Hickathrift; and that, of the five quarto volumes which compose his works, not the half of one volume is read by full-grown students. And of the weight, the vigour, the richness, the full-mouthed eloquence of his compositions, not one in fifty of those who are regularly dedicated to literature have any idea. With respect to Hooker, the judicious Hooker, incomparably the next to Bacon in grandeur of comprehension and profound solidity of judgment, he is almost as much talked of, and even less known. When we see his Ecclesiastical Polity, that noble monument of intellectual strength and well-di

gested learning, lie dusty and neglected on the shelf, it is difficult to suppress that feeling of indignation which rises uppermost in the mind. It is well, if, among the number of those who thus slightingly regard it, we have not to class the members of that church which it has protected so manfully, and so immoveably secured. The various labours of the prose writers who flourished in the same age with these two great men, are all equally in the shade, yet all, more or less, participate in the same excellence. The enterprizing spirit and far extended research of Raleigh, the gentleminded eloquence of Sidney, the nervous sense of Ascham, the glittering and imaginative style of Jeremy Taylor, the poetical and often glorious prose of Milton, and the elevated and majestic simplicity of Charles the First, (for we do, and always shall, consider the E Baptλin as his,) ought at least to command attention. It should be the object of a miscellany like the Retrospective Review to make them, as they have been much talked of, much studied, and intimately felt and delighted in.

The old English Drama and Poetry have met of late with more attention; and yet, the admiration which has hitherto been shewn, has savoured more of undistinguishing enthusiasm, than good taste or careful selection. Volumes of the latter have been reprinted, in which the worthless has so exceedingly overbalanced the good, as to render the task of extracting it altogether repulsive and disgusting. As if it were impossible to give us any of the valuable metal of our forefathers without a treble proportion of alloy, the republishers of the present day have placed before us such indigested masses of

absurdity and conceit, illumined occasionally by a few poetical sparkles, as to induce us almost to consider the

latter as a very poor recompense for the trouble of wading through the former. And we regret this the more, as it serves with the judicious reader not only to increase his contempt for bibliographers, which is nothing, but also to damp and decrease his fondness for the productions of our early poetry.* Mr Campbell's specimens, excellent as they are, take in but a

very small portion of this department of our literature, and cannot, in any measure, be considered as a full, fair, and accurate collection of our ancient Poetical Flowers. It is, therefore, to such a publication as the Retrospective Review, that we must look for assistance in this quarter; and when we consider its success already, in culling and selecting the essences of many of our neglected poets, as well as in bringing before us some hitherto almost wholly unknown, we do not think it too much to expect, that, in time, the common reader will be in possession of all the materials necessary for forming a correct and enlarged judgment of every portion of this delightful field. Of our old drama, it is well known nothing which can be styled a correct history, or, in fact, a history at all, has yet appeared. New editions, indeed, of some of these dramatic writers, of more or less value, have been given to the public, and others have been announced, which will render this the less necessary. Still, however, of these dramatists, all cannot be republished. The various character and merit of the plays of Heywood, Chapman, Marston, Middleton, Rowley, Decker, Webster, and others, would perhaps render such an attempt highly injudicious; and yet, so bespangled are some of the worst and grossest of their dramas with exquisite and beautiful touches developing the peculiar genius of each, that a selection of a few plays merely of each author, can convey but a very faint idea of the characteristic qualities of any. It is here, then, that we feel the value of such a work as the Retrospective Review, which, by sedulously extracting from those performances which are bad or execrable as wholes, their beautiful or pleasing parts, at once diminishes the labour, and enhances the enjoyment of the lover of our ancient drama.

There is yet a very wide and extended territory which these Reviewers may claim as their own. The literature of Spain, and especially its poetry and drama-of Germany, and of the northern countries of Europe, the history and productions of the middle ages, till the revival of learning,-and the compositions of Oriental poets, sages, and philosophers, afford much room for their Retrospective Criticisms and Investigations. The scholastic authors, well deserving notice, as illustrating the

VOL. X.

history of the human mind, and the works and biography of the many philologists, critics, poets, and scholars who flourished in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, will also present matter in reserve highly interesting, and hitherto almost unappreciated. How little, for instance, can we be said to be acquainted with the lives and writings of those industrious but unfortunate men, whose opera now load our public libraries-of the Manutii, the Casaubons, the Scaligers, the Douzæ, and the Vossii !-how little, with their secret history, their quarrels, their friendships, their humours, and their studies! And yet what is more curious or instructing than the auto-biographical confessions of such a man as Cardan? or what more entertaining to the inquirer into "Literary Quarrels," than the Logomachiæ of Erasmus and Jul. Scaliger, of Gruter and Pareus, of Schioppius and Jos. Scaliger, and of James Gronovius and Isaac Vossius? We will venture to assert, that a more interesting account of the scholars of the above mentioned periods might be written, than of any other class or description of men whatever.

Modern literature, in short, in its vast extent, is the treasury which such a Review has to draw upon; we need not therefore say, its materials are inexhaustible. Like the magnificent prince in the Arabian Tales, it can boast of stores which no expenditure can visibly diminish. In proportion, however, to the facilities thus afforded, is its responsibility increased. If we can pardon, in a Review which is limited to the publications of the day, an injudicious selection of subjects, it becomes totally inexcusable in one which may be said to have almost all literature at its command. We have a right to expect, in such a work as the present, especially in its early days, that no articles of questionable or inconsiderable value shall occupy the place which might have been filled by others of real merit or curiosity. We have therefore viewed, with some degree of jealousy, the introduction of matter merely bibliographical, and hope to find, in future, such subjects very sparingly made use of. If bibliography predominate in the work, it will lose not only its general interest, but also its high claim to be considered as a journal appropriated to the literary excellence of

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