part of it much alive or awake, but his understanding. Most of the errors of his philosophy, perhaps, arose from his overlooking elements of human nature which were torpid within himself, and which could not be learnt by the mere external observer of mankind. He knew more of the virtues in their practical results, than he knew of them as sentiments; and his theory of utility resembles that explanation of musical concords which modern physics have enabled us to draw from the vibrations of the atmosphere, but which is merely an external supplement to the musical faculty within us, which judges of the harmony of sounds by totally different means. The coldness of David Hume's character enabled him to shake off all vulgar peculiarities of thought and feeling, and to ascend into the regions of pure and classical intellect. No English writer delivers his remarks with so much grace. The taste which he followed in his compositions was founded upon the most generalized principles, and the most extended considerations of propriety; and the consequence is, that they possess a beauty which, whatever may be the fluctuations of human opinion, will never decay. He was utterly beyond the contagion of contemporary notions, and seems to have habituated himself to write as addressing a remote posterity, in whose eyes the notions which during his time had stirred and impelled the world, would perhaps be considered as the mere infatuations of ignorance and barbarism. The worthy David is entitled to less credit for those passages where he seems impressed with a belief that his own writings might continue to be perused at some future era, when Christianity would only be remembered as an exploded superstition. However, there was perhaps more scepticism than vanity in this. His writings are elaborately perspicuous. He thought he saw the foundations of all human opinions sliding so fast, that he was determined to give his own works as fair a chance as possible of being understood, if they survived the wreck. David Hume had too little personal character about him, to bear the marks of any particular nation. The sedate self-possession for which he was remarkable, has sometimes, however, been ascribed to Scotsmen in general, and his countrymen have always been notorious for dialectical propensities. It is remarkable, that no particular intellectual faculty has ever been set down as predominating in the English composition. Her great men have excelled in every different way, both in isolated faculties and in the aggregation of them. Englishmen have long been the first, both in delighting and instructing the nations; but owing to constitutional causes, they have also, like Dr Johnson, been the most miserable of mankind. Dr Johnson thought that all foreigners were comparatively fools. If we compare the lives of Hume and Johnson, we find Hume spending his years in a manner well enough suited for the cultivation of his metaphysical powers, but too secluded, and too much at ease, to make him practically acquainted with human passions. In all his writings, Hume appears as a philosophical spectator, capable of estimating the wisdom or folly of men's conduct in relation to external circumstances, and of prognosticating its result; but not very capable of entering sympathetically into their feelings, or of strongly conceiving the impulses by which they are guided. Johnson had better opportunities of observation, of which we see the products in his writings; and he might have observed still better, had his attention not been so often engrossed by the fermentation of absurd prejudices in his own mind. He was generally more anxious to know whether a man was a Whig in politics, or a High-churchman, or a Dissenter, than to understand the mechanism which had been implanted in the individual by nature. Johnson, during his lifetime, enjoyed more fame than Hume, and more personal authority in the world of letters. His growling was heard all over Parnassus. The influence he had on English literature consisted, not in disseminating any new system of opinions, but in teaching his countrymen how to reason luminously and concisely, and in making the taste for reflection more popular than it was before. Johnson had certainly more of what is commonly called genius than Hume. Possessing a stronger imagination and warmer feelings, it would have been less difficult for him than for the sceptic to have mounted into the re gions of poetry; as may be seen in his tale of Anningait and Ajut, and some other pieces. Hume is said to have composed verses in his youth, which would probably be written in imitation of the coldest and most artificial models. Although Johnson had imagination, there was no native grace or elegance in his mind, to guide him in forming poetical combinations; and perhaps there is not in any English book a more clumsy and ungainly conception than that of the Happy Valley in Rasselas. Any thing that Hume had, beyond pure intellect, seems to have been a turn for pleasantry, which his strict taste prevented him from ever obtruding gratuitously upon the reader. During the time when these men flourished, it may be safely averred, that the influence of intellect was completely predominant over that of genius in this country. No great poet arose, who produced moral impressions fit to be weighed against the speculative calculations to which the times were giving birth. temporary of Mahomet, but Menil places him in the beginning of the sixth century, coinciding pretty nearly, as our readers will remark, with the opinions of Sir William Jones and De Sacy. Of the condition of the poet, little is known with accuracy. It appears, however, to be quite certain, that he was no other than that same Antara, the celebrated knighterrant of Arabia, the memory of whose adventures were long preserved in the popular legends of his country, and which formed the subject of the great Arabic romance which goes by his name. * Many of these very adventures are indeed alluded to by the poet himself in his own great poem, which was honoured with the prize at Mec تحسن cond person Menil preserves the same ironic sense; but instead of he reads the se"Profecto nullo modo ad irruendum incitas nisi (per opera servilia), quod debeam nunc mulgere camelos, nunc earum papillas, ne lactent, nodo colligare." The acceptation Of the seven celebrated Arabic poems known by the name of Al-Moallakat, that is, the suspended (on the walls of the temple at Mecca), the fourth is that now edited by the two eminent orientalists in which both of these translations renamed in the title-page. It is now two years since M. Menil first pub- ceive the word is quite indelished a valuable introduction to the fensible, and the changing of the perpoem of Antara, in a "Dissertatio son in that of Menil is quite useless. Philologica de Antara ejusq. poemate Arabico:" this is reprinted with the There can be no doubt that w present work, without apparently any should be taken as the fourth conjualteration, under the name of Prole- gation in the sense, bene tractare nogomena. The name, age, and condi- vit; so that the meaning should run, tion of the poet, are here inquired in--A slave knows nothing about seizto with much minuteness; as well as ing an enemy; his only skill is to the design, plan, and contents, and milk camels, &c. metre, of the poem itself. Many excellent observations are subjoined concerning MSS., scholiasts, and various editions of the Moallakat. Reiske supposed Antara to have been a con The manuscript of the seven Moallakat, from which Mr Menil has edited the poem of Antara, was brought from the east by the late Scheid, and is now in the possession of Professor Willmet. Its date is the year of the Hegira 545, or of our era 1150: * Of this most singular work some specimens have lately been inserted by Hanmer in his learned Fundgruben des Orients. See 4th volume, 3d part. It surpasses, not only in antiquity, but in accuracy and in completeness, all copies previously known to the scholars of Europe. Even the scholia have the vocal and diacritical marks. The author of these scholia, Zuzeni, of whom, personally, nothing is known, explains first of all every rare or difficult word by itself, and then a paraphrase of the whole verse is its contrexion. It might have been wished that Mr Menil had followed more closely the example of the MS. in giving each scholium immediately after the verse to which it belongs. The order of the MS. is indeed entirely Jones translated this with the scholiast, "Have the bards who preceded me left any theme unsung?" and added to it, by way of connecting it with the second hemistich, "What, therefore, shall be my subject? Love only must supply my lay." The unsufferable harshness of this rendering is obvious; and the sense becomes much more easy if be translated ruins, in which meaning ur occurs in Abulfeda's Annals, III. S. 210, where, in the narrative of a great earthquake, he says: Jag عظیم neglected. The text is first printed by itself: then follows the Latin ver-slle "Through the inward-tumbling buildings there came many men." M. Willmet will not render the expression توهم بعد "Indig sion; then the variae lectiones, from two MSS. preserved in the library at Leyden, and from the text of Jones (which is printed in Roman characters); then come the Arabic scholia; and last of all we have the commentaria of M. Willmet. The accuracy with which the Arabic text, both of the poem and its scholia, is printed, deserves every praise: the writer of this may be allowed to say so, for he has compared it throughout with a very fine transcript of the Parisian Codex. In general the version is sufficiently close; but there occur seve-LÁLNo postquam de iis du ral little mistakes, occasioned, we suspect, by hurry, and an inattention to the minutiae of the pointing. The translation's chief fault is, that it is by far too frequently paraphrastic. Of this the very first verse furnishes an instance. post longam meditationem. bitasset; to say nothing of some strong objections to Willmet's own rendering, post suspicionem. The fifth verse, ان روضه انغا تضمن نبتها هل غادر الشعراء من متردم غيث قليل الدمن ليس بمعلم هل غادر الشعراء -odorem) qualem exhalat pratum ad) ام هل عروق الدار بعد توهم is thus translated by Menil: "Aut The literal translation of this is: huc intactum, quod suis luxuriet her"Num reliquerunt poetae quicquam bis, quod quidem pluvia riget; sed resarciendum? Sed num agnoscis habi- nullum omnino inficiat fimetum, netaculum post longam meditationem?" que ullum pecoris dedecoret vestigi-Menil gives this so: "Ullamne reum. According to this version, liquerint poetae sedium amasiarum is coupled with suarum ruinam, quam non carminibus but it evidently belongs of right velut restituerint? Certe, tu, Antara, nonne, quam fueras suspicatus, agnoveris amasiae domum?" In the render from Zuzeni, who interprets it thus: tos and so the scholiast under stood سقاه مطر ام يكن معه : ing of the first hemistich Menil differs nullas sordes advehens; that is, a ، لم يترك الاول للاخر شيا Non reliquit prior posteriori quidquam." And "Non reliquerunt poetae quidquam, de quo carmen condi possit. quod (pratum) rigat pluvia moderate shower, bringing no such overflow as might leave mud upon the herbage. تضمن The word is to be taken in the acceptation of conservat (cavit); so that the translation should run-" aut sicut pratum intactum cujus plantas conservat pluvia, paucas (i. e. nullas) sordes advehens.' The commentary of Professor Willmet is a most valuable appendix to this publication. It is only to be regretted that the stores of profound oriental learning which it embodies, should not have been rendered more accessible by means of proper indexes. REMARKS ON THE ANONYMOUS AND FUGITIVE ESSAYS OF THE EARL OF BUCHAN. THE Earl of Buchan has been looked up to as our Scottish Maecenas, at a period which might justly be deemed the Augustan age of our literature. Not alone distinguished as a liberal patron of learning and genius, his lordship has enriched various periodical works with the effusions of his own pen; and even still in " Dryburgh's cooling shade" προήκων ες βαθὺ τῆς ἡ λικίας, τοῦ πράγμασιν χρωτίζεται καὶ σοφίαν ἐπασκετ ARISTOPΗ. Every lover of literature will therefore be pleased to learn, that he has been employed, from a due regard to after fame, in collecting his numerous and elegant essays from the various works through which they were originally scattered, and that the present volume was lately published as the first of a series intended to answer this highly desirable end. It is principally composed of essays formerly published in the "Bee," a periodical work which was largely honoured with his lordship's contributions; for, as he informs us, page 7th, with that "curiosa felicitas" so peculiarly his own, I highly esteem the industry of the Bee, and fill its combs with honey, and provide for the winter." The carping spirit of modern criticism might perhaps object to the title of the work, as seeming to indicate that the noble author was ranked in the Irish Peerage, without reflecting that it only displays the characteristic obscurity indulged in by genius, and merely intends to signify, that, in their original form, when we are told they were "carried on the thighs of the busy Bee to the uttermost limits of the rational world," they appeared anonymous. Even in this point of view doubts might be entertained of the strict propriety of the epithet, as the many delicate and modest allusions all the papers contain, must have led their readers to conclude that "Albanicus" was at least a wondrous intimate friend of the Head of the House of Buchan. This circumstance, however, we look upon, for our part, as adding in the highest degree to the interest and value of the work. How often has it been a subject of regret, that men of the greatest genius and celebrity have given after-times so slight an opportunity of judging, from their writings, of their private life, and domestic habits and affections. Here the case is happily different; we not only behold the philosopher, but know the man; and this volume must alone prove a rich legacy to posterity, from exhibiting so many original traits of character, and holding up such an admirable picture of the noble author's studies and pursuits in retirement. An enthusiastic admirer of nature, he always charms us with the glow of his descriptions; the scenery of the Tweed is brought before our eyes in language that never savours of the puerile, the frigid, or the bombast; and his own lofty feelings and aspirations are painted in colours that admirably correspond to their originality and sublimity. The dewy gales of the spring, or the solemn silence of the midnight hour, never fail to wake him into rapture. How peculiarly grand is the following burst? "I can pour out my complaints to the roaring streams, and my voice shall not be heard. I can woo the zephyrs with the praises of vernal and sylvan beauty, and they shall waft the harmless theme to the remotest corners of the earth." Page 73. The last idea, indeed, being almost too magnificent for the comprehension of a common mind. But how beautifully interesting is the description that immediately follows in the prosecution of his morning walk. The breakfast smoke of the village was rising in spiry volumes to the clouds;" when, besides the repose of the landscape, we have the rural im age introduced by a single word of the cottage children, happy at their plenteous meal, and the father ploughman thankfully despatching his six pounds of porridge, which is stated in the statistical accounts of that part of the country, to be the regular mess with which these hardy rustics break their fast. We We must return, however, more particularly, to the contents of the volume, as we feel ourselves apt to be led away, perhaps, from indulging in that kindred sublimity, which Longinus says the sublime always infuses into the mind of the reader. would therefore remark the peculiar delight we experienced from the classical composition of the "Letters in imitation of the Ancients," which occupy a considerable portion of this volume. They principally consist of descriptions of the scenery of Dryburgh, its gainful "pomaria," and the occupations of its right honourable proprietor. With what classical dignity and simplicity is this beautiful seat at once introduced in the epistle of Albanicus to his friend Hortus. "You have no doubt frequently looked down on my humble residence between the 36th and 37th mile-stones, on the road to Jedburgh." The sentimental reader would perhaps be more delighted with the highly natural description of the shepherd in the leafy shade, playing to the graceful Amaryllis by his side, or the midnight wavings of "the solitary but we prefer the following yew; passage, as his lordship seems to write more con amore," when he turns to the prospect of a goodly pear-tree, of which he thus informs his Roman friend in the Ciceronian style. 66 "A pear-tree in my orchard produced last year a crop that sold for seven guineas; and so favourable is the situation in every respect to orchards, that I have planted one with my own hands, from which, if a live a dozen of years, I may be able to brew a considerable quantity of cider, after supplying the neighbourhood with dumpling fruit to qualify their bacon," &c. Page 98. The master spirits of this age do not meet with the greatest share of popular applause. The glorious Excursion of Wordsworth has never seen a second edition,-and the volume of Anonymous Essays, by the Earl of Buchan, has shared the same unmerited neglect. We are therefore happy to find this prosperous account of his lordship's labours, since we much doubt if the fruits of his genius will ever enrich him so much as the profits arising from the sale of the fruits of his orchards the fine gooseberries and "dumpling fruit" that ripen on the sunny slopes of Dryburgh. His lordship's praises of the beauty and fertility of this lovely spot, however profuse or loftily expressed, are not in reality the least exaggerated. It certainly exhibits a singular combination of the richest beauties of nature with the noblest relics of ancient grandeur; in a word, the lofty lines of Lord Byron most happily characterise it. "There the flowers ever blossom-the beams ever shine, And all, save the spirit of man, is divine." The aid of art, too, has not been awanting. As a specimen of his taste in this way, and as an appropriate accompaniment to the volume, the titlepage has been adorned with an engraving of the Temple of the Muses lately erected by this classical peer. That it might have nothing of an anonymous appearance, he has placed, we believe, above each of the pillars, the name of one of the tuneful nine in large golden letters, that form an elegant decoration to the red freestone on which they are pasted. The plate also represents a figure, which we take to be his lordship, in a reclining attitude against one of the pillars, meditating lofty song, and thus literally invoking the "avtav Aguoviar" of the ancient poets. Besides some biographical sketches, and other miscellaneous articles, the papers on Female Education hold a conspicuous place in the volume of which we have endeavoured this im perfect account. We would particularly recommend them to all whose task it is " to teach the young idea how to shoot." We traced, with great delight, the progress of mind in his imaginary pupil, Alathea, and his mode of conveying instruction. What can be better than the manner in which he gives her an idea of a great first cause? She had observed the ingenuity of her father as he amused himself with a turning-lathe; and being one night struck with some little trays of his manufacture, the sagacious young lady ventured to ask 66 6 My dear papa, will you tell me who turned the moon ? Yes, Alathea, I can |