those of Pollock and Ebenezer Elliott. Our portrait sketcher seems to snuff the terrible, as the war-horse the battle afar off, and rushes on as precipitately to mix himself in the smoke, and din, and horrid tumult of the conflict. It would not be a wonderful display of shrewdness, if we were to infer that Mr. Gilfillan is extraordinarily fond of excitement. In childhood, we used to be troubled with a night-mare, which, if he could experience a few times, we think it would do him a vast deal of good, and thrill him into a moderate degree of soberness, for at least a month thereafter.

Much as it vexes us, we must pass by unnoticed, the sketches of Goodwin, and those of Campbell, Allan Cunningham, and Walter Savage Landor. We intended, also, to animadvert on the coarse fling at the Hon. Mrs. Norton, and the slight passed upon Croly, the author of Salathiel, in the sketch of Shelly. We are, however, scarcely leaving room for our remarks upon the strangest portion of the volume: namely, the sketch embodying an encyclopedic view of American literature. But, before we pass to the consideration of this last, let us glance at the evident plan and compass of the sketches of British writers.

Here let it be distinctly understood, that in despite of all the faults of style, and occasional crookedness of mind, which the book before us displays; and although we have spoken freely and sharply concerning the matters which offend us, yet, at the same time, we recognize a great facility of superficial thought, and power of expression, united with much warmth and brilliancy, and ready command of the few facts which it was the design of the book to embody. It is certainly a "readable book," and will help to while away many after-dinner hours, that would be otherwise spent less profitably. We doubt not that it is passably popular in Britain, and that it may be found on the centre-tables of quite a number of literary ladies of thirty and upwards, and in the easy-chair of not a few study-rooms of the manses in the vicinity of Edinboro'.

We like Mr. Gilfillan for one apparent feature of his plan, which was evidently that of sketching only those writers who, to "him appeared possessed of some earnestness of thought and character. This shows a pleasant tendency of his own mind; and we feel that however he may be misled by the love of stalking in bus

kins, and straddling about on stilts, he still has considerable fire and warmth of soul, that lead him to sympathize with such as also exhibit them. If he is a young man, as we have surmised, both from his style and the quasi admission of his preface, this ardor of temperament, and love of naturalness in others, evinces the possession of a good share of native, but still latent genius. Much discrimination, or strength of intellect, we do not accord him, nor, indeed, is he consistent. He loves naturalness, that is, truthfulness, of expression in others. This is well. If he likes truthfulness of expression, he should also like that trait of character of which it stands as the index: to wit, the love of truth. Now a consistent love of truth would lead one to truthful statement of facts; and a statement of facts cannot be truthful, unless one has previously examined into their foundations. A man of truth makes no decided and unqualified assertion without this previous investigation, unless betrayed into a hasty statement by the excitement of the moment. When one is always excited, and has beside a pretty vivid imagination, he is apt to depart from the truth every day of his life, in word of mouth. This may be pardoned, however, by those who know his peculiar temperament and character; but if he sits down, and deliberately commits to writing his statements, in the same unqualified way, he very soon loses the confidence of even his friends, and runs the risk of being considered a common liar. We have little doubt that if the veriest falsifier in the world-we mean, of course, one who does not warp the truth from private enmity or personal interest-were thoroughly understood, and his true character fairly got at, we should find that in his heart there was as great a natural love for truth in the abstract, as in the heart of the most truthful-the difference between them being, for the most part, the difference of temperament.

And,

When Mr. Gilfillan penned his sketches of British authors, he had all the materials ready to his hand, floating about in the public mind; and could hardly escape stating facts-if he could not make inferences from them-correctly. moreover, if he had wished to falsify,— which is far from our belief, he would have been restrained from doing so, by the reflection, that once published, his sketches would be before the eye of the contemporaries, acquaintances, and per

sonal friends of the writers whom he was about to sketch. A falsification of fact would be instantly detected, and marked down against him. Want of judgment in arranging his facts, or in drawing conclusions from them, would only render him the object of pity. False glitter of style, or pompous stridings, would only excite a smile of derision. False statements of fact, however, would expose him to contempt and a more than fool would he have been, to have thus exposed himself, in a book written for the British market. He well knew that to show any want of truth, or of information, touching the subjects of his sketches, would have been fatal to him.

Let us here repeat that we do not suspect him of even the slightest desire to warp the truth for after what we have promised, our remarks, which follow in this connection, might be, possibly, misunderstood.

Very different was the state of affairs when he came to pen the article on American literature. The environment of the subject was entirely unlike that which surrounded his other sketches. Few American writers are very generally known in the British kingdom personally, -perhaps not more than a half dozen, to a half dozen literary men in England or Scotland. There was no check, then, existing in any widely extended friendship or sympathy. A few uninterested reviewers were all that could, if they would, detect any error of statement. And beside, there is no very great cordiality towards American literature anywhere in Great Britain. Ten to one, any thing that should depreciate, however unjustly, would be received with favor, there. We know that there are honorable exceptions to this; but this is the general fact. Now if Mr. Gilfillan had omitted the sketch under present consideration, and published only those touching British contemporaneous literature, we should have conjectured, from these alone, what kind of an article would have been the one relating to American writers. The superficiality which appears in the other sketches would have led us to expect that, where it would cost him any labor of research, or any taxing of his discrimination, our author would run on after his own mad fashion; just as he has, in point of fact. Throughout the article is that recklessness of statement, which, restrained in one direction, by the circumstances of the case, found vent, in

the other sketches, in random comparisons, drawn from the common store, not of his own individual thought, but of that which was the property of the literary public:-floating as we have said, in the general mind, and already manufactured to his hand. And, now, briefly, let us advert, more particularly, to the different portions of this singular effort; which, from its pretended familiarity with its theme, is likely to be received in the Brirtish kingdom, or least for a little time, as embodying a faithful, but, of course not elaborated view of American literature.

With a coolness of assurance peculiarly his own, Mr. Gilfillan has assumed to place Ralph Waldo Emerson at the head of American letters! A writer whose claim to that distinction is so slight, that the assertion of it, if made by any in this country, would be so manifestly absurd that even his most devoted admirers would shrink from attempting to sustain it. He himself must have blushed with mortification when he first saw-if he ever saw-this precious volume. Who but the sapient George Gilfillan, would have ventured the thing? Surely not even Thomas Carlyle; who did Mr. Emerson the honor to superintend the English edition of his essays.

We readily see how our excellent sketcher came thus to dignify a New England Lecturer, who, beside his lectures, has written a few brilliant pantheistic rhapsodies, with the highest seat in our literary synagogue. Both the sketcher and the sketched were admirers of the same great man; or, more properly speaking, the sketcher worshipped, and the sketched admired, Carlyle; and he liked both; and whom his hero liked the wor shipper incontinently admired, in his own headlong unreflecting way. The reason why Carlyle liked Mr. Emerson is easily perceived. It was that the American admired him; and, at times, affected his style and phraseology, and, moreover, was a pantheist into the bargain. The lord clothes his servants in livery; and thereby gives outward token of his own consequence. If the footman dresses more gaudily than his master, it in no way detracts from the master's consequence: only adds to it.

The readiness with which writers and artists extend the hand of fellowship to even their humblest imitators and admirers, shows how accurately and delicately adapted to the preservation of truth, are all things in the economy of human

numbered the following great names in its intellectual heraldry:-) :-Edwards, Dwight, Brockden Brown, Cooper, John Neal, Moses Stuart, Daniel Webster, Channing and Emerson!" To say nothing of the contradiction,-for contradictions in this book are as plenty as blackberries, what a delightful state of presumptuous ignorance does the collocation of these names display! The veriest little urchin in the land could make a more fortunate show of literary discrimination. And then, too, Moses Stuart is styled the "prince of American Exigesis"-which we will not now controvert-and Noyes and Robinson, two as profound oriental scholars as he-not even hinted at. But we cannot longer weary the patience of our readers.

If the editorial courtesy is extended to us, we will, in a future article, descant, somewhat at length, on the subject of American literature and literary men: leaving our author to enjoy the unenviable distinction which this particular sketch will inevitably give him. He has talents: let him study truth. We advise him to get accustomed to speak intelligently and truthfully, before " girding up his loins for some other more manlike, more solid, and strenuous achievement.' It irks us to part with thee, most excellent George Gilfillan, but we have held levee with thee too long already so "Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven!

Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave, But not remembered in thy epitaph."

the 66

THIS work was first published in London, in two thick octavo volumes, in 1843. It is now republished in one large closely printed octavo, of 593 pages. We had feared that no American house would venture upon the undertaking, and for having done it, we thank the publishers most cordially, in the name of all poor scholars. The writer of the book is the son of the distinguished author of the "History of British India," and of Analysis of the Human Mind." He is yet a young man, and was characterised some years ago, by very high authority, to a friend of ours, as "the best educated man of his age in England." The mental power-the reading -and the iron reflection evinced in this book are prodigious; and the book itself will repay, as it certainly demands, close and protracted study. It will be a favorite book with all the thinkers of this country, to whatever school in philosophy they may pertain, who believe in examining the foundations of their opinions, and who rejoice in a scrutinizing and closely reasoned " logic."

We had intended to prepare an ex

tended notice of this work, differing in the aim and in the method of its criticism from any that we have yet seen, and such as might meet the wants of some students in philosophy. But we are deterred by various considerations, and among them is the fact, that the limits and general character of a monthly magazine, seemed to us to forbid an article so severe and so long as we had proposed. Yet the proposal has hindered us from giving it earlier attention. At this rather late period for a brief notice, we shall speak of the prominent characteristics of this treatise.

Its aim and object are peculiar, and set it apart as unlike any other English work on logic. It gives the science, as well as the art of reasoning, the philosophy as well as the technics of logic. The design is to explore all the processes in which the reasoning faculty is employed-to classify them, to show them in their order, and in a good measure to test their validity and soundness. does not aim to teach the dialectic art merely, i. e., the art of reasoning so as to convince another; but it proposes to

It