terfeiting the state;-a strict examination of their conduct when they suppose themselves to be alone and not overlooked, contrasted with their conduct when they are conscious of being observed; -the existence of that peculiar fotor in the exhalations, which almost invariably accompanies the true maniacal state;--and the manner in which the subject is affected by the administration of drastic drugs.

'But indeed,' he observes, the affectation of madness always exhibits such "inconsistent combinations of character, as rarely to pass current on the clear unbiassed judgment of mankind:" in general, persons actually insane, wish not only to be esteemed most free from the malady, but to be considered as possessing considerable intellectual endowments; hence real lunatics never allow the existence of their lunacy, but are always endeavouring to conceal from observation those lapses of thought, memory, and expression, which are tending every moment to betray them, and of the presence of which, they are much oftener conscious, than is generally apprehended or believed. Alexander Cruden, when suffering under his second and last attack of mental aberration, upon being asked whether he ever was mad, replied "I am as mad now, as I was formerly, and as mad then as I am now, that is to say, not mad at any time.' p. 392.

We have now brought to a conclusion our remarks on the subject of Mr. Hill's treatise, having extended our observations rather beyond the usual length of critiques on works merely medical; partly on account of the almost universal interest with which the subject of insanity is pregnant, and partly on account of our having found in the Essay, a more than ordinary combination of censurable, and of praise-worthy matter. It now only remains for us to say a few words on the style and composition of the treatise before us. The force and strength of the Author's manner have already been commended, and we wish it were in our power to speak as favourably concerning the purity and elegance of his style. But in these respects, there is, to say the least, a very faulty slovenliness. Involved, obscure sentences, relatives without antecedents, parenthesis after parenthesis, epithets actually crowding each other, adjectives used adverbially, shamefully inaccurate punctuation, and words that are any thing but English, may be mentioned among the faults of Mr. Hill's book. These, however, are minor blemishes, and remediable in another edition. And notwithstanding the much more important charges, which our duty has obliged us to bring against the sentiments in favour of materiality which it advances, we trust we have said sufficient to recommend an attentive, though guarded perusal of the treatise, particularly to the medical student; and we conclude by stating it to be our

opinion, that a medical library would certainly be incomplete, that should not number in its catalogue, Mr. Hill's Essay on the Prevention and Cure of Insanity.

Art. IV. Sermons, chiefly on Particular Occasions. By Archibald Alison, LL.B. Prebendary of Sarum, Rector of Rodington, Vicar of High Ercal, and Senior Minister of the Episcopal Chapel, Cowgate, Edinburgh.-8vo. pp. 466, price 12s.-Longman, and Co. 1814.

WE cannot sympathize in the feeling avowed by the Author of these Sermons, that they have no recommendations' to the world in general. The distinguished reputation which Mr. Alison enjoys, as a fine writer and an ingenious philosopher, will operate in drawing attention to whatever he may publish; and the present volume is calculated to be peculiarly acceptable to persons of cultivated taste.

The congregation to which these Discourses were originally addressed, was composed almost entirely, as we are informed in the Preface, of persons in the higher ranks, or in the more respectable conditions of society; including a number of young men engaged in a course of academical instruction preparatory to their entering into the liberal professions. Though such a multitude of sermons of almost every character, have appeared in our language, few have been specifically accommodated to the Aristocracy. Our great preachers, indeed, our Barrows, our Souths, our Seckers, and our Horsleys, discoursed to princes and nobles; but, as if powers of thought and habits of reflection were connected with elevation of rank, they seemed to imagine that it became them to discourse in a style suited only to scholars and philosophers. Their compositions are accordingly distinguished by profound and comprehensive views, elaborate reasoning, and learned illustrations, not adapted to the taste or comprehension of their august audience; the noble personages whom they addressed, possessing but little knowledge of religion, and being unaccustomed to abstruse and refined speculations. Hence they have served little other purpose than that of solving the perplexities, and awakening the admiration, of the solitary student. Mr. Alison has adopted a plan much more likely to ensure success. He has chosen themes of a general and popular nature; has exhibited the results rather than the process of reasoning; and employed a diction very ornate and nicely modulated, for the purpose of conveying sentiments of the mildest benevolence, of enlightened patriotism, and of enthusiastic admiration, for all that is fair in nature, or noble and generous in the character of man. The

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prevailing features of the style are beauty and a touching solemnity; but some passages border upon the sublime.

Of the twenty-two sermons of which the volume is composed, one is on the beginning of the century; another, on seasons of scarcity; five are on the seasons; eight, upon public occasions; and the remaining seven have the following titles. 'On the youth of Solomon.' 'On the encouragement which the Gospel 'affords to active duty.' On the religious and moral ends of 'knowledge.' 'On evil communication.' 'On freedom of thought. On the consolation which the Gospel affords under 'the natural evils of life.'

Although the sermons on general and permanent topics are not the most interesting in the volume, the beginning of that on the encouragement which the Gospel affords to active duty,' is, perhaps, one of the most happy illustrations of the Preacher's manner. It is founded on these words: "And they "that had eaten, were about four thousand, and he sent them away." After noticing the superiority which our Saviour discovered over every secular consideration, Mr. Alison thus proceeds:

Of this distinguishing feature in our Saviour's character, we have a remarkable proof in the words of the text. The miracle which he had performed, "that of feeding four thousand men in the desert," you will observe, was of a nature very different from those which he usually performed. It was one, which demonstrated his power over nature itself; which taught those who witnessed it, that, if his kingdom were of this world, he possessed the power to maintain it; and which might lead them to wish to assemble under a leader, whose commands nature obeyed, and whom, therefore, no mortat opposition could withstand. It is accordingly in this singular moment, when his divine commission was most fully manifested, and when we may suppose all the vulgar passions of hope and ambition were working in the minds of the multitude, "that he sends them away;" to shew them that his kingdom was a "spiritual kingdom;"-that there were greater interests which he came to serve, than those of time; and that the reign of his power was to commence in a sublimer being, when the shadows of mortality were passed, and when time itself was no more.

2. If the words of the text have this instruction to us, with regard to the character of our Lord, they have a second instruction with regard to the character of his religion. When you examine the systems of pretended revelation which have prevailed, or which are still prevailing in the world, you will find, that if their origin betrays the ambition of their authors, their character betrays equally the weakness and imperfection of human nature. To one or other of the fundamental errors in religion;-to the encouragement either of superstition or of enthusiasm, and, by these means, to the fatal separation of piety from moral virtue, they have uniformly led. They have either drawn men from the sphere of social duty, to as

semble them, under the influence of superstition, in impure and sanguinary ceremonies, and persuaded them, that guilt could be expiated by the ritual of unmeaning devotion; or they have driven them from all the most sacred relations of life, into solitudes and deserts, and taught them, that the Deity was to be propitiated by the tears of unproductive repentance, or the dreams of visionary illumination. The conduct of our Lord, and the spirit of His religion, are very different-He assembles the multitude, indeed, around him, in the desert of human life, that he may teach them the end of that journey upon which they are going;-that he may recall the wandering, and animate the desponding, and invigorate the "weary and the "heavy laden ;"-and he points out to them, with no mortal hand, that continuing city to which they travel, where there are mansions for all the holy and the good, and where there "dwelleth knowledge, "and wisdom and joy." But when these mighty lessons are taught, he sends them away to their usual abodes and their usual occupations. He sends them back again to their own homes,-to that sacred though sequestered scene, where all their duties meet them on their return, where every virtue and every vice of their nature takes its origin,-and where they can best display both the strength of their faith and the purity of their obedience. It is thus that the religion of Jesus blends the great interests of piety and of morality,— that it lets down the golden chain which unites Earth with Heaven, and forms, even under the "tabernacles of clay," the minds that are afterwards "to be made perfect," and to be made citizens of a kingdom" which passeth not away, but which is eternal as the "Heavens." p. 117-121.'.

In the discourse on freedom of thought, after shewing that it is properly employed, when directed to the investigation of truth, but lamentably perverted, when employed as an end in itself,' for the purpose of attracting admiration and applause, Mr. Alison addresses the younger part of his audience in this impressive language.

Such is then, my young friends, the plain answer to this important inquiry; and such the standard by which you can yourselves determine whether you are to be the servants of God, or the servants of the maliciousness of man. If, in these happy but eventful hours of education, you feel the genuine love of truth;-if, with the powers which are given you, you feel at the same time the mighty purpose for which they were given;-if, in generous ardour for the extension of knowledge and of happiness, you forget yourselves and the little vanity of your hour;-if, in short, you feel that opinions are valuable in your estimation, not because they are free, but be cause they are true, then go on, in the sight of God and of man, to the true honours of your moral and intellectual being. It is in this discipline you can acquire for yourselves permanent fame ;-it is thus that you can prepare yourselves to be the benefactors of mankind-it is thus that you can become the servants of God, and be the ministers of his benevolence to a lower world.

But if it be otherwise, my young friends, if vanity and presump. tion have already seized upon your minds, fitted for better things; if, in the employment of the powers of thought, you look only to your own distinction, and care not for the ends for which they were given; if the name of genius has more influence upon your minds than the name of truth: if, in short, in your own bosoms you feel, that opinions are become valuable to you, not because they are true, but because they are free, pause, I beseech you, before you advance farther. You are hazarding every thing that is most dear to the mind of man ;-you are hazarding your fame, your usefulness, and your salvation;-and you are sacrificing, for the vanity of an hour, every thing for which every generous and noble mind lives, and would wish to live.' p. 288-290.

The sermons on the Seasons may be considered as illustrations of the theory of beauty and sublimity which is unfolded in the Author's Essays on the Principles of Taste. The Preacher dwells on the reflections which the varying aspects of nature suggest to the contemplative and feeling mind; and the emotions in which they lead it to indulge. Of these sermons, that on Autumn is the most striking. The whole train of sentiment is in harmony with the character of the season. Having adverted to the gentle, soothing melancholy which Autumn tends to inspire, Mr. Alison thus proceeds:

It is the peculiar character of the melancholy which such seasons excite, that it is general. It is not an individual remonstrance; -it is not the harsh language of human wisdom, which too often insults, while it instructs us. When the winds of autumn sigl around us, their voice speaks not to us only, but to our kind; and the lesson they teach us is not that we alone decay, but that such also is the fate of all the generations of man-" They are the green leaves of "the tree of the desert, which perish, and are renewed " In such a sentiment there is a kind of sublimity mingled with its melancholy; our tears fall, but they fall not for ourselves; and, although the train of our thoughts may have begun with the selfishness of our own concerns, we feel that, by the ministry of some mysterious power, they end in awakening our concern for every being that lives-Yet a few years, we think, and all that now bless, or all that now convulse humanity will also have perished. The mightiest pageantry of life will pass, the loudest notes of triumph or of conquest will be silent in the grave;-the wicked, wherever active, will cease from troubling," and the weary, wherever suffering. will be at rest." Under an impression so profound, we feel our own hearts better. The cares, the animosities, the hatreds which society may have engendered, sink unperceived from our bosoms. In the general desolation of nature, we feel the littleness of our own passions; we look forward to that kindred evening which time must bring to all; we anticipate the graves of those we hate, as of those we love. Every unkind passion falls, with the leaves that fall