educated, and more comfortably situated, than the bulk of any European community, and possess all the accomplishments that are anywhere to be found in persons of the same occupation and condition. The complaint is, that there are no people of fashion-that their column still wants its Corinthian capital-or, in other words, that those who are rich and idle have not yet existed so long, or in such numbers, as to have brought to full perfection that system of ingenious trifling, and elegant dissipation, by means of which it has been discovered that wealth and leisure may be most agreeably disposed of. Admitting the fact to be so, and in a country where there is no court, no nobility, and no monument or tradition of chivalrous usages, and where, moreover, the greatest number of those who are rich and powerful have raised themselves to that eminence by mercantile industry, we really do not see how it could well be otherwise-we would still submit that this is no lawful cause either for national contempt, or for national hostility. It is a peculiarity in the structure of society among that people, which, we take it, can only give offence to their visiting acquaintance; and, while it does us no sort of harm while it subsists, promises, we think, very soon to disappear altogether, and no longer to afflict even our imaginations. The number of individuals born to the enjoyment of hereditary wealth is, or at least was, daily increasing in that country; and it is impossible that their multiplication-with all the models of European refinement before them, and all the advantages resulting from a free government, and a general system of good education-should fail, within a very short period, to give birth to a better tone of conversation and society, and to manners more dignified and refined.. Unless we are very much misinformed indeed, the symptoms of such a change may already be traced in their great cities. Their youths of fortune already travel over all the countries of Europe for their improvement; and specimens are occasionally met with even in these islands, which, with all our prejudices, we must admit, would do no discredit to the best blood of the land from which they originally sprung. Mr. Weld, indeed, and farmer Parkinson, give a very uninviting picture of their society; but M. Talleyrand, and the Duc de Liancourt, are by no means so fastidious; and we cannot help suspecting that, upon a point of this nature, their opinion is entitled to full as much weight as either of those English authorities. We are not anxious, however, to establish their title to the capabilities of politeness. We only wish to encourage a disposition to be at peace, and to trade with them; and for that purpose we reallythink it enough, if it can be shown that they are good custo mers, and dangerous enemies.

ORIGINAL REVIEW.

The Works, in verse and prose, of the late ROBERT TREAT PAINE, jun. Esq. with Notes. To which are prefixed Sketches of his Life, Character, and Writings. 8vo. pp. 464. Belcher. Boston, 1812.

IN reviewing the work before us, criticism is deprived of half its utility. However just may be its decisions, they can be of no avail to the author. With him the fitful scene of literary life is over; praise can stimulate him to no new exertions, nor censure point the way to future improvement. The only benefit, therefore, to be derived from an examination of his merits, is to deduce therefrom instruction for his survivors, either as to the excellencies they should imitate, or the errors they should avoid.

There is no country to which practical criticism is of more importance than this, owing to the crude state of native talent, and the immaturity of public taste. We are prone to all the vices of literature, from the casual and superficial manner in which we attend to it. Absorbed in politics, or occupied by business, few can find leisure, amid these strong agitations of the mind, to follow the gentler pursuits of literature, and give it that calm study, and meditative contemplation, necessary to discover the true principles of beauty and excellence in composition. To render criticism, therefore, more impressive, and to bring it home, as it were, to our own bosoms, it is not sufficient merely to point to those standard writers of Great Britain, who should form our real models, but it is important to take those writers among ourselves who have attained celebrity, and scrutinize their characters. Authors are apt to catch and borrow the faults and beauties of neighbouring authors, rather than of those removed by time or distance; as a VOL. I. New Series.

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man is more apt to fall into the vices and peculiarities of those around him, than to form himself on the models of Roman or Grecian virtue.

This is apparent even in Great Britain, where, with all the advantages of finished education, literary society, and critical tribunals, we see her authors continually wandering away into some new and corrupt fashion of writing, rather than conforming to those orders of composition which have the sanction of time and criticism. If such be the case in Great Britain, and if even her veteran literati have still the need of rigorous criticism to keep them from running riot; how much more necessary is it in our country, where our literary ranks, like those of our military, are rude, undisciplined, and insubordinate. It is for these reasons that we presume with freedom, but, we trust, with candour, to examine the relics of an American poet; to do justice to his merits; but to point out his errors, as far as our judgment will allow, for the benefit of his cotemporaries.

The volume before us commences with a biography of the author written by two several hands. The style is occasionally overwrought, and swelling beyond the simplicity proper to this species of writing, but on the whole creditable to the writers. The spirit in which it is written is both friendly and candid. We cannot but admire the generous struggle between tenderness for the author's memory, and a laudable determination to tell the whole truth, which occurs whenever the failings of the poet are adverted to. We applaud the frankness and delicacy with which the latter are avowed. If biography have any merit, it consists in presenting a faithful picture of the character, the habits, the whole course of living and thinking of the person who is the subject-for, otherwise, we may as well have a romance, and an ideal hero imposed on us, for our wonder and admiration.

The biography of Mr. Paine presents another of those melancholy details, too commonly furnished by literary life. Those gleams of sunshine, and days of darkness-those moments of rapture, and periods of lingering depression-those dreams of hope, and waking hours of black despondency= Such is the rapid round of transient joys and frequent suffer

ings, that form the "be all and the end all, here" of the unlucky tribe that live by writing. Surely, if the young imagination could ever be repressed by sad example, these ' gloomy narratives would be sufficient to deter it from venturing into the fairy land of literature-a region so precarious in its enjoyments, and fruitful in its calamities.

We find that Mr. Paine started on his career, full of ardour and confidence. His collegiate life was gay and brilliant. His poetic talents had already broken forth, and acquired him the intoxicating, but dangerous meed of early praise. The description given of him by his biographer, at this time, is extremely prepossessing.

"He was graduated with the esteem of the government and the regard of his cotemporaries. He was as much distinguished for the opening virtues of his heart, as for the vivacity of his wit, the vigour of his imagination, and the variety of his knowledge. A liberality of sentiment and a contempt of selfishness are usual concomitants, and in him were striking characteristics. Urbanity of manners and a delicacy of feeling imparted a charm to his benignant temper and social disposition."

After leaving college, we begin to perceive the misfortunes which his early display of talents had entailed upon him. He had tasted the sweets of literary triumph, and, as it is not the character of genius to rest satisfied with past achievements, he longed to add fresh laurels to those he had acquired. With this strong inclination towards a literary life, we behold him painfully endeavouring to accustom himself to mercantile pursuits, and harness his mind to the diurnal drudgery of a counting-house. The result was such as might naturally be expected. He neglected the monotonous pages of the journal and the ledger, for the magic numbers of Homer and Horace. His fancy, stimulated by restraint, repeatedly flashed forth in productions that attracted applause: he was more frequently found at the theatre than on 'change; delighted more in the society of scholars and men of taste and fancy, than of " substantial merchants," and at length abandoned the patient, but comfortable realities of trade, for the splendid uncertainties of the muse

Our limits will not permit us to go into a minute examination of his life, which would otherwise be worthy of attention; for the habits and fortunes of an author, in this country, might yield some food for curious speculation. Unfitted for business, in a nation where every one is busy; devoted to literature, where literary leisure is confounded with idleness; the man of letters is almost an insulated being, with few to understand, less to value, and scarcely any to encourage his pursuits. It is not surprising, therefore, that our authors soon grow weary of a race which they have to run alone, and turn their attention to other callings of a more worldly and profitable nature. This is one of the reasons why the writers of this country so seldom attain to excellence. Before their genius is disciplined, and their taste refined, their talents are diverted into the ordinary channels of busy life, and occupied in what are considered its more useful purposes. In fact, the great demand for rough talent, as for common manual labour, in this country, prevents the appropriation of either mental or physical forces to elegant employments. The delicate me chanician may toil in penury, unless he devote himself to common manufactures, suitable to the ordinary consumption of the country; and the fine writer, if he depend upon his pen for a subsistence, will soon discover that he may starve on the very summit of Parnassus, while he sees herds of newspaper editors battening on the rank marshes of its borders.

Such is most likely to be the fate of authors by profession, in the present circumstances of our country. But Mr. Paine had certainly nothing of the kind to complain of. His early prospects were extremely flattering. His productions met with a local circulation, and the poet with a degree of attention and respect, highly creditable to the intelligent part of the union where he resided.

"The qualities," says his biographer, "which had secured him esteem at the university were daily expanding, and his reputation was daily increasing. His society was eagerly sought in the most polished and refined circles; he administered compliments with great address; and no beau was ever a greater favourite in the beau monde !"

Having now confided to his pen for a support, Mr. P. un