men.

rior mental endowments. At this late period, when men of genius are brought under the canons of criticism, it appears high time that they should also be obliged to submit to the laws of decency and morality, and that as they can no longer claim exemp tion from the rules of the first, so they are bound, like all other men, to conform to the precepts of the last. If the world has any thing to blame itself for in its conduct towards men of genius, it is in making too liberal an allowance for their fantastical depar tures from the ordinary rules of conduct adopted by common The calm acquiescence in these breaches of the salutary ordinances prescribed for the government of all, has, we believe, brought on the ruin of many a chosen spirit, who, had he been arrested in time by the saving disapprobation of the world, would have checked his downhill career, and regained his lost elevation. The world indeed has spoiled many a man of genius, as well by its indiscreet praises, as by its too liberal allowances for that imprudence which is supposed to be a sure indication of promising talents. The praise has operated to check the progress of farther improvement, and to bring on a premature confidence, which is the forerunner of carelesness, idleness, and decay; while the too liberal toleration held out to their imprudence or dissipation, has seldom failed to produce in the end those lamentable catastrophes which are so thick set in the literary annals of the world. But this is not the worst; the evil extends much farther than to the few men who are gifted with extraordinary powers of fancy. From this supposed intimate connexion betwixt genius and imprudence, thousands of young men who had no one attribute of the former, but the possession of the latter, have been led to mistake themselves for persons of extraordinary genius, when, in fact, they could advance no other claim to such a distinction, than that which was founded on a general defiance of those hallowed rules which men of genius themselves originally devised for the benefit of human happiness. That imprudence is often the concomitant of a briant and ardent fancy, is clearly demonstrable, because that judgment which is necessary to the direction of our conduct, is often blinded and impaired by the dazzling glow created around us by the workings of the imagination. He, however, who can produce no other voucher to his superior genius than wild and ungovernable imprudence, or

licentious dissipation, is a fitter candidate for the Temple of Justice than that of Apollo, and should be brought to a proper estimation of his talents by the wholesome discipline of public contempt.

These remarks, though suggested by the mention of Dermody, are not intended to apply to that distinguished personage, who appears to have been born with a happy aptitude for scoundrelism, which required not the fostering indulgence of the world to nurse it into maturity. However premature may have been his poetical genius, his "evil genius" was much more so, and he stands not so much an example of precocious talents as of precocious depravity. Over the imprudence of Burns, the most hardy moralist may be permitted to mourn; but from the villany of Dermody, the most ardent votary of genius revolts with contemptuous indignation.

Were the poem before us consecrated merely to the praise of such talents, it would want almost its only title to the public atten. tion. But the long catalogue of "imps of fame" that sparkle like dewdrops in the green fields of the Emerald Isle, the names of Grattan, Curran, and many other illustrious heirs of immortality, are sufficient to give it an interest in the hearts of those who admire the union of patriotism and genius-and reverence those glorious spirits who toil for the happiness of their countrymen. These are men who do not require to be seen through the misty and delusive medium of exaggerated tradition, and whose fame is real, though coupled with that of Malachi, Brian Borhoime, Ollam Fodhla, and a few other illustrious shadows. These shadows appear to be introduced for no other purpose but to give an opportunity for some edifying notes, which swell the size of the book, and save the trouble of writing so much poetry. Accordingly, our author, by following, in this respect, the successful example of his great prototype in the uttering of notes, (we had almost said false notes,) has contrived to manufacture one hundred and seventy-six pages out of eightynine pages of straggling poetry. Indeed, there is at least four times the soli quantity of notes that there is of poetry, and the complexion of this mighty mass resembles not a little that multifarious variety of broken chairs, ancient bureaus, worn-out tables, and other precious remains of antiquity, which every good housewife thinks it necessary to scour up, and carry along with her in her periodical migrations. We have dissertations upon

:

Ossian, long stories about Cairns, together with other piquant novelties and we have tales of the superb palace of Tara, together with notices of Malachi, who commanded the militia of Meath in the year 1014, which militia, to their great honour be it spoken, did not, like modern militia, run away when their possessions were plundered by the Danes. Then we have notes about the ancient Irish harp, the Irish spear, the Irish bards, the Irish phillibeg, and the Irish helmet of gold usually found in the bogs; all which must needs be extremely interesting to the good Americans, who, having no pretensions to antiquity themselves, are huge admirers of it in others; as honest Doily venerated Greek, because he had none of it himself.

Let it not for a moment be supposed that we ourselves have not a respectful veneration for antiquity, and for those obscure traditions which being hallowed by time, that, it is said, can convert charcoal into diamonds, and, consecrated by poetry, at length find their way into history, and become firmly incorporated with the genuine records of the times. We are aware how dear these precious relics are to the heart of every good patriot, and with what indignation he receives a doubt of their authenticity, or their value. We disclaim, therefore, any intention of undervaluing Brian Borhoime, Ollam Fodhla, or any traditionary hero. We see no reason why they are not quite as respectable as King Arthur, King Brute, King Fergus, King Log, or any fabled king who reigned in the fertile realm of tradition. Neither will we at all repine that the legends of these notable personages, together with the gallant band of chivalric knights of the post, should bear away the palm in this enlightened land, from such productions as Gertrude of Wyoming, and Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. However we may lament this direction of the public taste, and this unhappy disposition in our countrymen to admire the transcendent exploits of border heroism, rather than the simple and gentle graces of a most refined imagination, or the beautiful and affecting picture of a domestic catastrophe which laid our country in tears; still, it shall never be laid to our charge, that we found fault with that easiness of disposition which betrays her (though now of age to think for herself) into this ignominious servitude to foreign tastes and foreign opinions.

"On the whole," as "my masters," the English Reviewers, say, when they have lost sight of the book they are reviewing for at least two good hours-on the whole, we think Mr. Phillips occupies a pretty respectable rank in the list of those poets who have been most successful in imitating the multifarious rigmarole style, and the matchless dexterity in note-making of the Great Master, both which combined undoubtedly constitute the perfection of the school of modern chivalry. We recommend him to the hospitality of our country, which seems not only the political, but the literary asylum of Europe, where all sorts of distressed poets, as well as patriots, find a welcome and a home. And we make this recommendation with the more confidence, as, notwithstanding its faults, we consider the present poem as one of the most remarkable ever written, for, though the writer is a Wild-Irishman, and the book all about Ireland, we have not been able, with all our industry, to detect a single substantial, incontestable bull! P.

BIOGRAPHY

OF

CAPTAIN JACOB JONES.

[We must apologize to the writer of the following article, for having omitted several passages of a political nature. We expressed our determination, on taking charge of this work, to conduct it without party bias; and that whatever political strictures it might contain, they should be merely of a national nature. However, therefore, we may coincide with the author in his opinions, he will perceive that we cannot, with any consistency, give them insertion. Besides, we consider the victories of our navy as so many subjects for national feeling, in the discussion of which the sordid animosities of party should give way to the nobler sentiment of patriotic exultation.]

JACOB JONES, Esq. of the United States navy, was born about the year 1770, near the village of Smyrna, in the county of Kent, state of Delaware. His father was an independent and respectable farmer, of excellent moral and religious character. His mother was of a good family of the name of Jones; an amiable and interesting woman; she died when the subject of this memoir was yet an in