Chatham seemed to wish, but, in his ostensible character, durst not go. Nor is this all; what Junius in disguise has said of the great personage alluded to, is no more than what Chatham was in the habit of affirming in private.

"The discrepancies in the instance of Lord Chatham, if indeed there are any, are not, upon the whole, of such a nature as should lead us to give up that belief which the whole tenor of the other evidence tends so strongly to induce of his being the author of these letters. We know of no public man of that period whose motives and situation correspond so completely with what we may suppose to have been the motives and situation of the writer; and in no case can we well conceive such a close similarity of mind and temper between two distinct characters, as exists between Chatham and Junius. Their opinions-their animosities their attachments their very peculiarities, are the same and in some instances, as in the character given of the king, there is an identity of thought and ex pression, which can scarcely admit the supposition of their being different persons. We shall not say that we entertain a positive conviction of their identity; but this we dare to affirm, that it will be a great deal more surprising should it ever appear that Chatham was not, than that he actually was, the long-sought-for Junius."

We agree with our brother journalists in the general train of their reasoning respecting Junius's Letters. Mr. W. G. Hamil ton was likely enough to have written them; Mr. Dunning very likely indeed to have done so; but Lord George Sackville still more likely. When, however, we take a view of the arguments in support of Lord Chatham's having been the author, that which, in Lord George Sackville's case, amounted only to a strong probability, in his amounts to a certainty as absolute as circumstantial evidence can render it. And are we never to know the much desiderated tantalizing fact from direct, unques tionable authority? Junius was a man of family he tells us so. It might therefore be his wish, that the curious secret should be kept till after the demise of the king; and it may now be the prudent determination of his male representative, not to suffer it to be disclosed while he lives. If these be the only obstacles to the disclosure, they may both be removed soon enough, and the present race of men be enlightened more than they ought to desire :-for it is far more amusing, and not less useful, merely to speculate about this anonymous prodigy, than to have his name and attributes ever so indubitably certified. The fac-similes of hand-writing produced by Mr. Woodfall can lead to no discovery. It was his head, not his hand, which Junius employed.

Scotish Review, No. IX.

449

ART. III.-Adolphe; Anecdote trouvée dans les papiers d'un Inconnu, et publiée par M. BENJAMIN DE CONSTANT, Colburn. 1816.

Two very opposite judgments, distinctly different without being contradictory, might be passed upon this work, by persons competent to appreciate its contents. The sentimental reader, delighting in the extreme of pathos and the flights of a fervid imagination, will devour its pages with avidity; while the person of clear, deliberate, good sense, having a familiar acquaintance with real life, and a temperament too cold to be seduced by the illusions of the fancy, will probably speak in this manner concerning Adolphe :- It is the story of a young man of good natural parts- with some degree of generosity of temper, but who is exceedingly presumptuous, vain, and disposed to egotism; who, having attained to the age of two and twenty without cordially loving any body, or having inspired any very warm sentiments of affection in others; who, being in want of an object for his feelings, and a motive for his exist ence; actually forms the project of attaching to himself a woman living under the protection of another man, and that man too his particular friend; and all this, purely for something to do, or, according to the modish phrase-by way of a lounge. The lady on whom he fixed, is the acknowledged and avowed mistress of a nobleman, by whom she is treated with all the consideration and respect due to a wife, and to whom she has, for ten years, given every proof of the most faithful and devoted attachment. Adolphe succeeds in seducing her from her alle giance to her protector and steady friend, and in inspiring her with a degree of passion for himself, which absorbs every other feeling, and renders her careless of her friends, her reputation, and her children. Exactly at this period the love of Adolphe begins to cool; he becomes weary of the subjugation which his weakness has incurred; he recollects with regret the indulgent and respectable friend whom he has deserted and deceived; and he tries in vain to detach himself from the infatuated woman, who persists in binding him to her by a succession of sacrifices, which would have been sublime, had they been inspired by a legitimate attachment: but being wholly undesired by the object of them, who groans under a weight of obligations profusely heaped upon him, they only increase his dissatisfaction at feeling himself constrained to add ingratitude to satiety. Ellenore (the heroine,)

is gifted with all those qualities which shine and captivate upon the stage; but she also possesses such as harass and distract in real life. Generous, impassioned, courageous; but captious, jealous, and unreasonable: in short, to sink from the dignity of tragic terms to the familiar phrases which express a sad reality in domestic life, she is over-bearing and intolerably ill-tempered. Hopelessly entangled with a companion ten years older than himself, with whom he cannot live peaceably, at the same time that he wants fortitude to separate himself from her, Adolphe drags on three years in bitterness, wrangling, repentance, and obscurity; and then, by a chain of circumstances, which leave upon his mind a lasting remorse, becomes the means of destroying his unhappy partner in guilt and folly, who, dying of a broken heart, leaves him that liberty for which he had sighed and which he can no longer enjoy.

Such is the story of Adolphe : such are the unpromising materials with which the eloquent M. de Constant has created a work which powerfully lays hold upon the feelings, reveals many of the springs of the human heart, and discovers the secret sources of our sentiments and impressions. Adolphe may be looked upon as the representative of his race; he is an abstract of human nature. Who is there, who, having read the afflicting story of his errors, and their consequences, will not, in many passages, recognise his own perceptions and emotions? All who have felt, must have partaken in his feelings, for they are the feelings of humanity. He is reflective, and yet inconsiderate; compassionate, yet selfish; tender, yet imperious; fond of power, yet willingly a slave. In short, he is a compound of inconsistencies; constantly dissatisfied with himself, and with all around him; perpetually aspiring after a more perfect state of existence; and by his expectations and disappointments, during this finite condition, supplying the strongest internal evidence of a world to come, where virtuous love shall not be unrequited, and where genuine affection shall not end in bitterness.

Ellenore, the creature of passion, wholly engrossed by the gratifications of this life, and finding them only in the society of one person frail and imperfect as herself, affords a fine example of retributive justice; for she dies in consequence of her disappointment in him for whom she had forsaken her father, her children, and her lover. The readers of Adolphe will feel impressed upon their minds these important truths: friendship and goodwill may be attained by those by whom they are deserved, but Love must be spontaneous: it cannot be pur

chased like diamonds, by being weighed against itself: passion may be extinguished by prudence; but all the force of reason cannot create it: there are events and situations in life, by which the strongest minds and most ardent spirits must submit to be controlled and if we would live peaceably and contentedly, (for a life of rapture is but the romance of boys and girls,) we must conform ourselves to our destinies, instead of attempting to over-rule them by our inclinations.

The style of this work is at once elevated and simple: and as an observer upon human nature, in its most polished forms of society and manners, as well as in its wildest extravagance of passion, M. de Constant yields neither to Rochefaucault, nor to La Brouyere.

The preface is extremely interesting. We wish that a fair and noble author had been guided by the opinions expressed in the following passage:

"Chercher des allusions dans un roman, c'est préférer la tracasserie à la nature, et substituer le commerage à l'observation du cœur humain.”Pref. p. vii.

Our readers will not be displeased with the following ex

tract:

"L'amour supplée aux longs souvenirs par une sorte de magie. Toutes les autres affections ont besoin du passé. L'amour crée, comme par enchantement, un passé dont il nous entoure. Il nous donne, pour ainsi dire, la conscience d'avoir vécu, durant des années, avec un être qui naguères nous était presque etranger. L'amour n'est qu'un point lumineux, et neanmoins il semble s'emparer du temps. Il y a peu de jours qu'il n'existait pas. Bientôt il n'existera plus. Mais tant qu'il existe, il répand sa clarté sur l'époque qui l'a précédé, comme sur celle qui doit le suivre."-P. 57.

"Charme de l'amour, qui pourrait vous peindre! Cette persuasion que nous avons trouvé l'être que la nature avoit destiné pour nous, ce jour subit répandu sur la vie, et qui nous semble en expliquer le mystère; cette valeur inconnue, attachée aux moindres circonstances; ces heures rapides, dont tous les détails échappent au souvenir par leur douceur même, et qui ne laissent dans notre âme qu'une longue trace de bonheur, cette gaîté folâtre qui se mêle, quelquefois sans cause, à un attendrissement habituel, tant de plaisir dans la présence, et dans l'absence tant d'espoir, ce détachement de tous les soins vulgaires, cette superiorité surtout ce qui nous entoure, cette certitude que desormais le monde ne pent nous atteindre où nous vivons, cette intelligence mutuelle, qui devine chaque pensée et qui répond à chaque émotion! Charme de l'amour, qui vous éprouva ne saurait vous décrire !"-P. 68.

"Nous vivions, pour ainsi dire, d'une espèce de mémoire du cœur, assez puissante pour que l'idée de nous séparer nous fut douloureuse, trop faible pour que nous trouvassions du bonheur à étre unis. Je me livrais à ces émotions, pour me reposer de ma contrainte habituelle. J'aurais voulu donner à Ellénore des témoignages de tendresse qui la contentassent. Je reprenais quelquefois avec elle le langage de l'amour: mais ces émotions et

ce langage ressemblaient à ces feuilles pâles et decolorées, qui, par un reste de vegetation funèbre, croissent languissamment sur les branches d'un arbre déraciné."-P. 136.

ART. IV.--An Elementary Introduction to the Knowledge of Mineralogy: including some Account of Mineral Elements and Constituents, Explanations of Terms in common use; brief Accounts of Minerals, and of the Places and Circumstances in which they are found. Designed for the Use of "the Student. By WM. PHILLIPS, Member of the Geological Society; pp. Ixii. and 338. 12mo. 8s. 6d. Phillips. 1816. IT rarely happens that the natural sciences are indebted to an individual in the capacity of both author and bookseller, as in the present instance. The circumstance has not been disadvantageous to the writer; though his works have a better claim to popularity in their acknowledged utility. Very few men, indeed, equally well qualified, would have taken the trouble to supply the public with such a popular introduction to the science of mineralogy. Some adventurous bookmakers have made similar attempts but their total failure may, perhaps, contribute to convince them that the paths of science are not to be trodden by every vulgar traveller; and that the most favourable harvest is to be reaped, rather by hungry fame and modest knowledge, than by the base lucre of grasping adven ture. To reduce the difficult, infant science of mineralogy to something of the form and manner of what is called popular reading, was no very easy task. Even "the labour of selecting," which is all that the author modestly pretends to, required considerable practical knowledge, in order to avoid the most extravagant blunders. There is also some merit in divesting himself of the slavery of modern system-mongers, and abandoning abortive theories to those whose devotion to them is in the direct ratio of their incredible absurdities. A clear and impartial statement of facts, "divested of technical and scientific terms, as much as the nature of the subject would allow," has been the writer's chief object: and that he has attained it, nobody will venture to deny. It was the intention of friend Phillips (for his religious pride will neither bestow nor receive the vulgar epithet of Mr.)" to give in familiar language the more important mineralogical and geological characters of each mine