factory, we are persuaded, is not to be found, than that contained in several parts of this work, and still more at large, in President EDWARDS'S "Dissertation concerning the End for which God created the world." Some indeed have, inconsiderately, objected against the principles illustrated in this work, that they do render the event of trial infallible. Yet it is obvious, that the cause of defection would be but imperfectly explained, if it did not involve that consequence. The fact, if certainly foreknown, must have had an indubitable ground of prescience, and, therefore, must have been quite beyond the sphere of contingency. To shew how chance was excluded, and yet, that the source of certainty arose not from any divine determination, was the very object to be accomplished. In our opinion, this has been completely effected, and by arguments as well arranged and as perspicuously expressed, as they are strong and convincing.

In this valuable work, indeed, we find no loose declamation; no efforts to conceal objections, or to escape them by skimming over the surface of things; every point is fully met, and fairly discussed. The author aims throughout, not to silence, but to convince; not to establish facts, but to trace causes and exhibit reasons ;-not to force upon the mind a reluctant assent, but to remove its inward doubts and satisfy its secret wishes. While many are content with asking the what, he is desirous to shew the why. Others repel the attacks of sceptics and infidels by authority; he, by arguments: they furnish their disciples with shields and bucklers; he teaches them to disarm their antagonists.

On many accounts, we consider the work before us, as an invaluable addition to the public stores of theological learning; nor do we know, when one of equal importance for the defence of truth, has issued from the press. There may be persons too busy, or too indolent, to consider its principles, or to make themselves masters of its arguments; there may be others who will dispute some of its statements, and reject some of its conclusions; but no man is entitled to think himself acquainted with the present state of theological science, who has not given it an attentive and candid perusal.

It is proper to notice, that we have referred, throughout, to the sccond edition, which, though not containing the examination of WHITBY and FLETCHER, nor the more abstruse parts contained in the Notes and Illustrations,' is, in many respects, greatly superior. The general arrangement is more accurate; the bearing of every part upon the professed design, more direct; and the style of composition, more accommodated to the public ear. Terms that were thought too technical, are omitted; and

a higher polish is given to almost every sentence. One section of considerable length is entirely new matter, and the whole (except the last six pages, at the commencement of which, death interrupted him,) was re-written by the author. The public, therefore, are now presented with a volume, not inferior to any, perhaps, on similar subjects in elegance, precision, vigour, and perspicuity of expression; and which displays argumentative ability in no respect exceeded by either BARROW, BUTLER, OF CLARKE.

Art. II. Poetics: Or, a Series of Poems, and Disquisitions on Poetry. By George Dyer, formerly of Emanuel College, Cambridge. 12mo. 2 vols. pp. 480. Price 14s. Johnson and Co. 1812. MR. DYER may now be regarded as one of the veteran

corps of our literary workmen. This circumstance combines with the benevolence of his dispositions, the good intention of his writings, and the useful practical tendency of some of them, his indefatigable literary industry, his extensive and various knowledge, and even the tone, genuine and not extravagantly enthusiastic, of his passion for poetry, to draw from candid readers and critics, something more friendly than the precise sentence of parsimonious justice. The present work is distinguished by an additional circumstance of recommendation, in being constructed on a principle, and with an express avowal, of willingness to consign the greater part of the author's former poetical works to oblivion. oblivion. He has here selected from them and corrected, a certain portion to which he could wish a more protracted existence; and adding a considerable number of pieces that have not appeared before, with a set of prose essays, partly original and partly reprinted, he sends out this assortment of rescued parts instead of new whole editions, to occupy in smaller bulk, the place of works never to be recalled.

It is not usual for authors to perform, of choice, and thus calmly, the exequies of a part of their own literary offspring. In general, they affectionately, it is believed, wish at least all their finished productions a life co-extended with their own; indeed wish them life indefinitely, and would be highly gratified by the thought of their being much in request, and consulted, and admired, after themselves that gave them being, shall have withdrawn from the world; as if they expected to retain, amidst the wonders and the solemnities of the new economy of existence into which they are to be removed, some vital sympathy with this beloved progeny in verse and prose,

It might, to be sure, seem to be among the most obvious of all admonitions to the vanity of authors, that there have been a

vast number of their profession in each of the past ages, and yet, that but few books of those ages are now read: that the present age has a greater number of authors than the preceding ones, and that the next will, probably, see a greater number than this that, therefore, each future generation of readers will have still less and less time to look back to the works of the preceding periods, and, consequently, the measure of probability for each author, that his works, and especially that all his works, will be read by the subsequent generation, is lessening at every step in the progress of time. All this would seem sufficiently easy of apprehension; but since authors are so reluctant to acknowledge it in application each to himself, we deem particular praise to be due to one, whose acknowledgement of it is so real and effectual, as to determine the form of a present literary undertaking.

A very long preface, for the necessary egotism of which the author repeatedly, and somewhat solicitously apologizes, states the origin and plan of the work, the first half only of which is here published; two additional volumes being to be prepared after he shall have completed the History of the University of Cambridge, on which he is now employed. The first two volumes, he says, 'are not necessarily connected with what are to follow, though the completion of his design into a sort of systematic work, will not be realized till the publication of the two other volumes.' Some of his friends had often suggested to him, that a work of considerable amusement and interest, might be produced by throwing the varieties of his literary life into the form of a history, with observations. He thought this would be a more formal and pretending sort of undertaking than the subject would warrant. His friends, however, retained their opinion, and repeated their representations, till, at last, he was led to think of a compromise. He thought that a selection from his former poetical publications, and from a great variety of pieces never printed, accompanied by a series of essays, might be made according to such a rule of preference and arrangement, as to correspond to, and, in some measure, represent, the progress of his life, marking the series of its interests and occupations, and giving some trace of the circumstances and changes of local situation.

There is a certain agreeable vivacity, and what is called naïveté, in this rather rambling introduction; and it concludes with a very unequivocal avowal, (and we have noticed several other passages that confirm it) of the grand tenet of our author's philosophical faith.

As I set off with pleasing recollections, I shall close with a cone solatory reflection; which is, that human life, through all its inquiries, affectations, and pursuits, is a course of habits, a succession of circumstances, a system of causes and effects, which we cannot foresee, and which we cannot displace; nice links of a mysterious chain; parts of a great universe, natural, regular, irresistible, indissoluble; not independent of power, but leading up to a Power that is incomprehensible, The Power of Deity, the utmost point to which religion or philosophy can reach. This reflection, and I would impress the reader as well as myself, should awaken a feeling of quiet magnanimity, which, while it overpowers our weaknesses, and moderates our despondencies, should create, if not a total indifference, a calma endurance, to the praise or censure of beings, if we fall in the way of either,—who are altogether constituted as we are, the creatures of circumstances, like as ourselves.'

If any reader, observant of the nicer, but, nevertheless, important matters of propriety in composition, should be led, by the clumsy cast of the concluding part of the passage, to expect a good deal of unfinished, negligent expression, a sometimes almost slovenly incorrectness, very hard to be tolerated in any man who writes for the press, but quite inexcusable in a scholar, and an old craftsman in authorship,-he will not be deceived in his anticipation.

In our brief notice, the second volume, consisting of prose essays, seems to claim the precedenee, on account of its ostensible character of research and disquisition.-The first Chapter is on The connection and mutual assistance of the arts and sciences, and the relation of Poetry to them all.' It begins with a profusion and splendour of classical allusions; but we confess we felt no small discouragement, when we came to the paragraph which appeared more strictly to be the commencement of the intended elucidation.

Mind is the source and the seat of knowledge, as the sun is of light; and all the discoveries of science reflect back pleasure on the mind; all the congregated rays mingling, as it were, and sympathizing with each other and our common natures, in the same manner as the planets, which revolve round the sun, and administer to his glory; or, as the whole heavens and earth are cheered by the light of the moon, according to those inimitable lines of Homer, so finely paraphrased by Pope :

As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night,' &c.

Why, we thought to ourselves, would a sensible man, who has undertaken the business of unfolding a matter to the understanding, in the light, as might be expected, of clear intelligence, make his commencement with this sort of impertinent show and confusion of phosphoric fires? Why would he mock, with this unmeaning imagery, this mixture of the dazzling and the cloudy,

the mental eye that is expecting some defined form of sense? The chapter does, nevertheless, afford an agreeable, though quite immethodical view of the wide capacities and affinities of poetry. It was conformable with the general design of the work, that these deeply inherent relations, which constitute the union of all sciences, and the arts resulting from them, in a grand intellectual system, should be but very briefly illustrated; while the sovereign right which poetry has asserted, and practically maintained, to invade what might have seemed the sacredly peculiar property of each of them, and seize something there for her own, is dwelt on with the amplification of triumph. This noble arrogance of poetry, thus asserting her relationship to all the arts and sciences in the way of compelling them to pay her tribute, is described by our author, not so much in a philosophical as in a popular manner. He celebrates the fact as exemplified in Homer, Spenser, Milton, Butler, and many other great poets. Even Shakespeare, not a man of science, nor, in the usual sense of the word, of learning, is justly maintained to be one of the examples, inasmuch as the very considerable historical and general knowledge which he possessed, all finds its use in his poetry; which would, doubtless, as happily have availed itself of all the knowledge of Bacon, had the poet possessed it. The great lesson inculcated by the whole discourse, though obvious, cannot be too often inculcated, that a poet will, in that capacity, derive benefit from all the knowledge he can acquire, and that an ignorant great poet is the most perfect absurdity of which it is possible to dream.

The notion that genius is not to be subjected, in its operations, to rules, we should have thought, had been by this time, too effectually exploded, to require any further expense of argument, The chapter on this subject is, however, sensible and spirited, though without any remarkable novelty..

The next three chapters are employed on the matter of fact, that there are but few excellent poets, and on the question, Why are there so few? There is, first, a brief historical view of the early and progressive cultivation of poetry, as a favourite employment in various parts of the world, tending to shew what an immense number of poets there have been in all; and, therefore, if we have but a diminutive list of excellent ones, of what arduous ascent that eminence must be, where the monumentum ære perennius can be erected.

the

In adverting to the influence of climate, our author appears to us, to fall into a very palpable contradiction paragraph in which he says, In the coldest regions of the north, clouds hang over the mind, and torpor freezes the imagination,' ends thus