would seem to be, to clear up the question, and make an end of it. Whether a man takes the lingering course, however, or the resolute one, his love may be equally the prevailing impulse; but when, as in the case of Dacre, he abandons the pursuit, and retires from the field, it cannot be the fear of a defeat to his affection that deters him from declaring himself, because he could not be in a worse position upon that point than the one to which he withdraws; and it must be the discomfiture of his pride, therefore, which he fears,-the wound to his vanity which would be inflicted by his defeat becoming known to society. This is the natural weakness of a man of the world, and is dexterously made use of to torment the hearts of these fashionable lovers.

The weakness of Lady Emily Somers is not so characteristic of the time and class as that of the hero. We are not addicted in these days to the superstitions of filial duty, yet there may be found amongst us, though rarely, views of that duty which deserve the name, such sentiments as were felt in their full force in the days of Clarissa Harlowe. The principles which were commonly inculcated in those days seemed to assume the infallibility of parents to forget that fathers and mothers might happen to be villains or fools, and to exact the same blind obedience on the part of any given offspring to any given individuals standing to them in the parental relation. We would obey her, though she were ten times our mother,' says Hamlet, thrown upon the reverse of the natural sentiment, by a sense of the ridicule of making that sentiment irrespective of persons, and binding under all circumstances. The just view of the filial obligation in the case of adult offspring-the view which, being just, is therefore of the highest morality,-would never fail to take into account the comparative reasoning powers and virtuous dispositions of the parties. Habit will produce in the well-disposed as much of a leaning towards a coincidence of judgment with their parents, as is right or desirable in such persons; and if to habit be added a prejudice and a superstition, the effect will be to cramp the energies of independent minds, and to tempt others with the offer of an easy escape from the duties and difficulties of life. This world would not be the world of trial it is said to be-trial to the understanding as well as the heart-if we could be acquitted of our responsibility by simple submission-if we were not bound to think and act for ourselves even against the will or judgment of the best of parents. Even when submission implies the greatest selfsacrifice, it is not necessarily on that account the highest act of duty. Our highest duty is to keep our minds free, our hearts fresh, our spirits healthy, our energies alive-to let no fortitude be misemployed, no sufferings be wasted. In respect to the real duty

duty of self-sacrifice, to the question when it is a duty and when not, Simeon Stilites did not fall into a greater mistake than Lady Emily Somers. It was a mistake, however, not unbecoming a heroine, and it is turned to good account in sustaining the interest of the novel.

We will extract another incidental passage, because it contains an opinion to which we cannot assent:

There are, perhaps, not more than two things in this world in which women can be even supposed to have an advantage over men: they are not expected to fight duels, and they are allowed the enjoyment of an endless variety of finger work. They are never obliged to give their friends and acquaintance, who have had the pleasure of saying an ill-natured thing, the still further satisfaction of shooting them through the heart on a cold winter's morning; and when they have nothing to think about, or wish to get rid of the thoughts they have, down they sit, and resigning their whole souls to the cares of cross-stitch and tent-stitch, embroidery and tambour, bead-work and braiding, knitting and netting, chain-stitch and gobble-stitch, hemming and sewing, they beguile in busy idleness the tedium of vacuity or depression. Far other is the case of men. Drawing and cherrynets are their only resource-for the former, there too often lacks the needful supply of talent for the latter, alas! the encouragement of a sufficient demand; and then they are reduced to conscious idleness. vol. ii. pp. 40, 41.

This statement appears to us to be rather plausible than correct. Without affecting to speak as practical men concerning knitting and netting, or to have at any time given our minds to chain-stitch and gobble-stitch, we must, nevertheless, hazard an opinion upon them; and our theory is, that these manual and sedentary occupations tend more than anything else to abandon the mind to desultory musings-if in a state of indifference—or if otherwise, to the domination of a ruling subject of thought, whether pleasurable or painful. Boccaccio has compared the condition of men with that of women in a state of love-melancholy, and considers, as we do, that men have greatly the advantage.

Ed se per quegli alcuna malinconia mossa da focoso disio sopraviene nelle lor menti, in quelle conviene che con grave noia si dimori ... ilche degl'inamorati huomini non aviene, si come noi possiamo apertamente vedere. Essi, se alcuna malinconia o gravezza di pensieri gli affligge, hanno molti modi da alleggiare, o da passar quella, percio, che allor, volendo essi, non manca l'andar atorno, udire ed vedere molte cose, uccellare, cacciare, pescare, cavalcare, giucare, o mercatare. De quali modi ciascuno ha forza di trarre, o in tutta o in parte, l'animo a se, e dal noioso pensiero rimuoverlo almeno per alcuno spatio di tempo; appresso il quale, con un modo o con altro, o consolation sopraviene, o diventa la noia minore.'-Prohem. al Dec.

In

In these latter days, however, one change has taken place which tends to redress the balance. The resource of the needle was as open to love-lorn woman in the fourteenth century as it is at present; but there is one resource-that of reading, which was not; and it is our belief that the women of the present age have the advantage in this particular, not only over the women of preceding generations, but over the men of their own. We believe that there are at present far more men than women who are not readers, and that many men are driven to read chiefly because, for the sake of conversing with women, they find it necessary to make themselves acquainted with the books which are their topics. As to the kind and quality of this female reading, we have every disposition to preserve a courteous silence; but speaking of the extent, we have no hesitation in saying that the average of female reading has outgrown the average of male.

If the light remark, to which we have been taking an exception, be not altogether correct, there are many in these volumes more seriously made, which are just and pregnant, and afford evidence of a thoughtful insight into the feelings and ways of mankind.

'Whether I shall ever succeed in being useful, is, I fear, very doubtful,' says Dacre; but I have determined not to be idle. A lonely man, like me, cannot afford to despise himself.'

In these few words how much is said, and how much more is suggested, concerning some of the best uses of adversity!

Before we quit the subject, we ought to observe, that there is a faultlessness in point of taste, and an ease and lightness of style in this novel, which are well suited to represent the agreeable gracefulness of the society in which its scenes are laid. The characters are numerous and life-like, and, without being violently contrasted, are diversified and stand in free relief from each other; and there is a knowledge of the component parts of society in high life, and an insight into the working of that complex machine, which could only be the result of an acute and discriminating faculty of observation, exercised upon the largest specimen of a society-say rather of a cluster of interpenetrated societies-which the world affords, the metropolitan society of England; those of its circles, that is, which are considered to constitute what is commonly called 'good society'-ista colluvies vitiorum!

The Two OLD MEN'S TALES' are likewise by a Lady; though, after much controversy, the belief seems to have prevailed, almost universally, that the book was masculine. These stories are of a totally different class and design from those which have been so plentifully produced of late years-the representation of

manners

manners being here merely incidental, the representation of feelings essential and predominant. The authoress has courage enough and a sufficiently ardent imagination to plunge deep into romance, with the assurance that a glowing fancy and the energy of passion will carry her through all difficulties. The romantic colouring does not consist in the manners, customs, and costume of either of her stories being other than those of the age we live in; but is thrown over them by the representation of highly-wrought sensibilities and of tragic or extraordinary events. Upon us the impression of these tales was such as we recollect to have received from the novels which we stole and secretly read in the days of our boyhood; we found them interesting and affecting to a degree which made us begin again to think that the serious occupations of life were weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable, compared with that of reading novels. With that power by which a writer can reach the heart of a reader, it is plain that this authoress is eminently endowed.

For the rest, her characters are few and distinct, her conceptions, though free, compact; and there is a clear decisiveness of purpose in the conduct of her narratives, which makes the reader feel that there is nothing for him to do but to go along with her. As to style there is some want of art, but none of vigour; devices are prodigally employed, which practice and consideration would teach her to employ sparingly; but this is evidently not from any defect of resources, but because she has not been led to perceive that certain favourite forms of rhetorical or colloquial phraseology (that of emphasis by iteration, for instance) require to be taken care of, with a view to preserve their force and freshness. But these faults are few and immaterial; they would hardly be perceived on the first perusal; and the novel which obtains a second must have merits by which any such faults of style are amply redeemed.

ART. XI.-Origines Biblica; or Researches on Primeval History. By Charles Tilstone Beke. London. 1834.

HE author of this volume has, we doubt not, wrought himself into a serious belief in the truth of his theories; nor, considering the suspended state of biblical learning, as concerns the Old Testament, in this country, are we at all surprised that they should have made some impression upon the reading public.' But we must express our own honest conviction that, where these subjects have been more fully investigated, and command more interest among scholars, if Mr. Beke should obtain a hearing, he is little likely to acquire converts. The system

of

of our author is altogether subversive of the established notions of early, indeed of later Scriptural geography. As a religious question, this is unimportant. Though we acknowledge our unwillingness to dissever the very remarkable connexion which has always appeared to us to subsist between the earliest profane history, or tradition, particularly that of ancient Egypt, with the sacred records, we trust that we have no prejudice which may not be wrested from us by the strong arm of truth; and we should be ready to surrender this deep-rooted feeling to solid and sufficient argument. On such subjects we can apprehend no danger. from the freest inquiry, or even the most paradoxical novelty of opinion. It is purely a question of the interpretation (we wish this distinction were constantly kept in view during the discussion of such matters), not of the authority of the sacred writings; an examination into the real meaning, not into the credibility of the sacred writer. To those who have read the work of Mr. Beke, this declaration would be quite unnecessary: we have made it in order to guard him in limine from being the victim of that jealous sensitiveness which trembles at the slightest departure from the prevaing opinion, even on points totally disconnected with religious doctrine; and to disclaim, on our own part, the slightest participation in these illiberal and unworthy arts of controversy. He asserts, and the whole tone of his volume confirms, his sincere reverence for the sacred writings, to the truth and authority of which he is persuaded that he is rendering valuable service by his own new, and, as it seems to us, fantastic arrangement of the early geography of the world. His views concerning the inspiration of the Scriptures, although he believes the Book of Genesis to have been compiled, in part, from pre-existing documents, might satisfy the most rigid orthodoxy; and he disclaims with great earnestness not merely all connexion with, but even all knowledge of the Rationalist School of Germany.

Now we may respect the prudent timidity with which Mr. Beke has scrupled to venture his faith in the inspiration of the Scriptures in such dangerous society-yet we cannot but think that he would have conducted his argument, if indeed he had written his book at all, much more to the satisfaction of well-informed and scholarlike readers, if he had enlarged the sphere of his reading in that quarter. We do not urge Milton's bold and characteristic argument, not merely for unlicensed printing, but for the indiscriminate reading of all works, whatever their tendency: I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race, where the immortal garland is to be run for, not without dust and heat.' Still for an author, and an

author