try-when he reads the acts of Cortes and the sufferings of Montezuma and his people, would not rejoice to see Mexico happy, governed by wise and constitutional laws, independent, in short, and placed in a situation to enjoy and improve those capabilities with which a beneficent Providence has gifted this chosen portion of the globe, not that they might be neglected and rendered of no avail? Is not this a theme addressed to the heart of every man?-is it not a subject worthy of the consideration of every patriot, of every statesman, in times like the present? We complain of distress, we hear the clamours and see the distres of our manufacturers, but in the present state of all South America we do not remember that the greatest portion of consumption is cut off or lies dormant, because the means of payment are desolated or exhausted, and that this has now been the case for nine years. The loss to Europe in this time has been immense. The working of the mines and the labours of agriculture have been suspended; the effects are now felt where the usual supplies have been withheld. At the close of a long and expensive war, a benign Providence seemed to open to Europe the resources of South America as a remedy, as a panacea-hitherto they have been, as it were, disregarded.

appeal which it makes to every bosom; and on the response which all hearts must make to it. The author appears to confide where he really directs. There is also another reason for being fond of this mode of writing. We are prejudiced in favour of him who speaks openly and boldly. He relieves us from the trouble of judging for ourselves; and a positive assertory manner is often taken in the stead of proof. Being addressed to no one in particular, no offence is taken, though what is said probe rather deeply; and if said justly, the authoritativeness of the style adds to our reverence for virtue; strengthens the moral principle; and assists in purifying the mind from vulgar and sordid motives.

2. WISHES AND WILL." Distinguish in thyself and others between wishes and will in the strictest sense. Who has many wishes has generally but little will. Who has energy of will has few diverging wishes. Whose will is bent with energy on one, must renounce the wishes for many things. Who cannot do this is not stamped with the majesty of human nature. The energy of choice, the unison of various powers for one, is alone will, born under the agonies of self-denial and renounced desires. Calmness of will is a sign of grandeur. The vulgar, far from hiding their will, blab their wishes. A single spark of occasion

ER'S COMMON-PLACE BOOK.

1. APHORISMS." He whom common, gross, or stale objects allure, and when obtained content, is a vulgar being incapable of greatness in thought or action."

This is a good specimen of the aphorism. It is a style of writing which must please every one who is possessed of any moral tact. One feels a pure and exalted pleasure on reading a maxim, which at once carries conviction to the mind, by corresponding with the sentiments of the reader, and gratifies his taste by expressing his thoughts in a more clear and forcible manner than he could have done himself. The gratification is increased also by the sentiment having assumed the appearance of certainty. All reasoning is laid aside. It stands upon its own strength; on the

thousand crackers of desire."

Looking at these remarks in a moral point of view, no man of reading or reflection can misunderstand them, or withhold his admiration. Will is generally made synonymous with resolution; and in this sense it is characteristic of a large class of genius. Metaphysically, however, the language is loose and ambiguous. In the strictest sense of the word, there is little difference between wishes and will. As volitions, or acts of the mind, they are synonymous. To will is to wish, and to wish is to will. Some volitions, however, are followed by what is wished, others are followed by no consequence but disappointment, if expectation has been conjoined with desire. If while in good health I wish, when sitting at one corner of a room, to get to the opposite corner, my wish, or my will, is followed by

certain muscular phenomena, by which I am carried to the place I desired to reach. But if, after having fallen to the bottom of a coal-pit, I wish or will ever so strenuously to be at the top of it, no consequences follow: I do not, by willing it, reach the place where I wish to be. By willing to move two or three feet by one movement, my wish is immediately realized; but if I extend my wish to spring forward a quarter of a mile at one spring, I meet with nothing but disappointment. It is by experience alone that we learn what wishes may be realized, and what not by simple volition. We have ascertained by experience, that certain movements of the body take place immediately on being willed, and that other motions are never conjoined, or only occasionally conjoined, into volition. If the term will were applied only to those volitions which are followed by the realization of what is desired, and wishes to those volitions which are not followed by the desired sequence, there would be grounds truly and metaphysically for the distinction. But in morals, the distinction rests substantially on the same foundation, Will is applied to our desires after objects that are attainable, or worthy of being obtained, wishes to what are unattainable or undesirable. In this sense a wise man will have few wishes, for they are idle and vain. Knowing himself, his powers, the things by which he is surrounded, and, consequently, what is or is not within his reach, he will resolve to do that which is accomplishable,, and, by perseverance, will attain the object he had in

view.

ON GAWIN DOUGLAS'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL'S ENEID.

WE constantly fall through with our old poets, not that we, by any means, think the new better, but that we are very doubtful, whether the ad

This general reader has promised us some observations on the "Remarks on

Dr Brown's Theory of Cause and Effect," which appeared in our Number for October 1818. The remarks now inserted, though written years ago, bear a little upon the question discussed in the article just referred to.

VOL. VI.

miration which we ourselves feel for these venerable worthies is sympathized in by our readers. Shall we ever carry Dante to the top of Purgatory? As for his flight into Paradise we are in utter despair; but we have left him much too long at the bottom of the burning mountain, although it was in the agreeable company of his musical friend Casella. We must make an effort, indeed, and scale the steep ascent, without much longer delay, if we do not mean, in the language of another sacred pilgrim, to sink altogether into "the slough of despond." At present, however, we feel ourselves marvellously tempted to refresh ourselves, before we proceed, with a gill of good Scotch "mountain dew" in the half-way house, kept by honest Gawin Douglas. There we duly find in attendance Dante's guide, Virgil, converted into a figure liker our recollection of old Neil Gow, than any thing else, either ancient or modern, and there are, in truth, few occupations more amusing to us than conversing with the courtly Roman under this singular masquerade. We have already hinted that we do not think the transformation entirely to the worse. Neil Gow had ten times more spunk about him than Virgil or the whole court of Augustus together; one scrape of his Highland fiddlestick would have crushed to atoms the lyres of Apollo and of all the Muses; and it is really pretty much in this fearless and dashing strain that Gawin Douglas dances his wild strathspeys in the midst of the correct images and the polished numbers of his majestic original. We went through the first book of this remarkable translation almost a year ago, and shall now proceed into the second, intending, no doubt, like our friend Dr Dryasdust, to go on, number after number, for a whole twelvemonth, till we come to the end of the thirteenth, for Gawin Douglas, according to the good old Scotch measurement, gives thirteen to the do

A ponderous spear with force he took, And fast within the crooked belly stuck: Trembling it stood, while from the hollow womb

Internal groans of men resounding come.

We use Lord Lauderdale's translation, which was somewhat previous to Dryden's, and must be generally less known to our readers. They can easily compare Dryden for themselves. How does Gawin give this passage? With infinite force, and very close to the original, though somewhat in the spirit of caricature.

Thus sayand, with all his strenth ane great spere

At the syde of that bisning beist threw he, And in joynynges of the thrawin wame of

What says the Bishop?

As Laocon that was Neptunus' priest,
And chosin by cavil into that ilk office,
Ane fare great bull offerit in sacrifice
Solempnitlie before the holy altere,
Through the still sea from Tenedos, in
fere,

Lo twa gret lowpit edderis with mony thraw,

First through the flude towart the land can draw.

(My sprete abhorris this matter to declare.) Above the wattir their hals + stude ever

mare,

With bludy crestis outwith the wallis

hie,

The remanent swam always under the sea,
With grisly bodyes lynkit mony fald,
The self-same stouris from the fard § they
hald,

Unto the ground they glade with glowand

ene,

Stuffit full of venom, fire, and felloun tene,

With tounges quhissling in thar mouthis red,

They lick the twynkilland stangis in their head.

We fled away all bludless for effere.
But with ane braide || to Laocon, in fere,
They sterte attanis, and his twa sonnys
zing, T

First athir serpent lappit like ane ring,
And with thare cruel bite and stangis fell,
Of tender membris tuke mony sory mor-
sell;

Syne they the preist invadit baith twane,
Quhilk with his wappens did his besy pane
His children for to helpin and reskew,
Bot they about him lowpit in wympillis

threw

And twice circulit his middill round about, And twice faldit thare sprutillit skinnis,

but dout,

The sternes dinnit, his cryis war so hie. Like as ane bull does rummesing and rare, &c.

We ought to apologise to our readers for quoting so much, nor is this last quotation remarkably happy throughout, and it is in many places obscure. We are much better pleased with the following,-the description of Eneas's first discovery of the conflagration of the city. It is more elegantly expressed, and contains, indeed, some admirable lines. We might, perhaps, make it more intelligible by modernizing the spelling, but we feel this to be a sort of profanation which we are unwilling to be guilty of.

In sere placis throw the ciete with thys The murmour rais aye mare and mare, I wys,

And clearar wax the rumour and the dyn, So that suppois Anchises my faderis inn With treis about, stude secrete by the way, So bustuous grew the noyis and furious fray,

And ratling of thare armour on the street, Affrayit, I glisnit of slepe, and sterte on fete;

Syne to the hous hede ascend anone,
With eris prest stude thare, als styll as

stone:

Ane sound or swouch I hard thare at the last,

Lyke quhen the fire be felloun wyndis blast,

Is driven amyd the flat of cornes rank, Or quhen the burne on spait hurlis doun the bank,

Uthir throw ane wattir brek, or spait of flude,

Ryfand up red erd, as it war wod, Doun dingand cornes, all the pleuch labour atanis,

And drivis on stiffly stokkis, treis, and stanis:

The silly herd seand this grisly sicht,
Set on ane pennakil of sum cragis hicht,
All abasit, not knawand quhat this may

Surrey had this noble passage distinctly in view in his translation. One very fine line, indeed, quite equal to the original,

Exoritur clamorque virum, clangorque tubarum,

he adopts without any change→→→ Upsprang the cry of men, and trompettes blast.

the description of the attack of Pyr-
There are some powerful lines in
rhus upon King Priam's palace.
But first of all ane stalwart ax hynt he,
The sterne Pirrus to hew and break the
zet,

And furth of it the stapyllis has he bet,
And bandis all of brass yforgit well:
Be that in twa the maister bar ilk dele
Is all to fruschit,† syne the hard burdis he
hakkis,

And throw the zet ane large windo makkis.

With duleful shrik and waling all is confundit,

The wholl houses youlit and resoundit,
For womenting of ladies and women.

.

Oft with the ram the porte is schaik and duschit,

Down bet zet cheeks, and bandis all to fruschit, &c.

There is something very simply pathetic in the manner in which the fate of Priam is introduced.

Peradventure of Priamus wald ze spere How tid the chance, his fate gif ye list here.

When he the cietie saw takin and down bet,
And of his palace broken every zet,
Amid the secret closettis eik his fais,
The auld gray all for nocht to him tais, +
His hawbrek, quhilk was lang out of us-
age,