colloquy on universities, poor scholars, theological learning, infidelity, &c. quite characteristically. With respect to unbelievers, he goes near to hint the necessity of direct persecution. The want of zeal for proselytism being usually deemed the chief obstacle to their becoming an open sect, the Laureate, it seems, would supply it them.

Among other evils in respect to which Dr. Southey proves himself a good hater, is republicanism, and all sorts of arguments are adopted to prove the unfortunate situation of the United States, denuded of tithes and an establishment, exposed to the danger of separation, and the most likely of all communities upon earth, to surrender their liberties to an "ambitious soldier." Having no deep-rooted institutions they have nothing to care for; not even the difficulty of getting rid of them. A corollary flows from this demonstration, the same which has been before alluded to-the danger which attends the supremacy of public opinion, and the active irrepressible and unlicensed press to which it owes its irresistibility. So opposed, indeed, is the Laureate to the opinion, that in a multitude of counsellors there is safety, he falls out with the construction of both Houses of Parliament for being too numerous, and quotes a certain governor Johnstone, to prove that all deliberative assemblies are mobs, which consist of more than a hundred persons;-the possibility of their becoming a junto, or a mere faction, in the other case, seeming never to occur to him. The doctor's scheme of government, both civil and ecclesiastical, is for authority to rest in a few, and that few to do every thing for every body, including the exercise of thought and reflection for them into the bargain. Nothing, therefore, can exceed the spleen and petulance with which he alludes to persons or parties, who directly or indirectly interfere with the close views of that special portion of existing power which has been so fortunate as to secure his approbation. Not an idea seems to be entertained by the doctor, that out of the numerous retainers of the periodical press, who differ from him in opinion, any can be otherwise than dishonest and dishonourable. That the greater portion of these writers act as conscientiously as the world will allow, and that by far the most corrupt and profligate of them affect that zeal for the church which the doctor really feels, are facts to which he never for a moment alludes.* As to

* The ignorance and shallow acquirement of these writers are much dwelt upon by Dr. Southey, who extends the censure to modern learning in general. His enmity to or disregard of science accounts for something of this censure; but more of it appertains to a forgetfulness, that it is the diffusion of useful truths, rather than a wide cultivation of profound ones,

the effective operation of public opinion, woe to the nations in which, under certain modifications, and fairly looking to its prospective tendencies, it is not regarded, for disorder and anarchy will be sooner or later the certain result. The doctor should recollect, that his martyr, Charles 1st, lost his head, and that revolution is making the tour of the world, chiefly from inattention to this truth. It may be deemed astonishing at this time of day, and with the history of the two last centuries before their eyes, that politicians can be found who would divest a tremendous responsible power of its safety valve, and rest authority on the narrowest possible basis in a fortuitous reliance upon certain mystic doctrines of passive obedience and christianly submission. The Laureate, in particular, seems to have a hankering after schemes of government, founded on the principle of a sort of priestly directive despotism. Why was he not born some centuries ago, like St. Bernard to get up Crusades, or to found "wise orders" in the fashion of Ignatius Loyola. Or is it only the poetry and enthusiasm of his temperament, which delights in a sort of speculation, which the slightest step towards action would reduce to sobriety and prose.

In addition to the several points which have been alluded to, various subjects are incidentally touched upon, which, if space would allow, might be profitably adverted to. Having already trespassed largely upon convenience it will be only necessary to add, that these volumes will supply considerable entertainment to every order of thinkers, who like to have their faculties called into exercise by powers and accomplishments of no common description, however singularly exhibited. To a fine display of copious and commanding eloquence, supported by much felicity of expression, and adorned by most of the graces which attend on practised composition, is united a variety of illustration and allusion, which a reading experience like that of Dr. Southey's could alone supply. It was said of Montesquieu's Esprit des Lois, that a man might read in it for five minutes to supply thought for five hours. The Colloquies of Dr. Southey possess a portion of this stimulative property, but almost uniformly to terminate in wonder how the gifts of nature and education can be so curiously accompanied and combined. Moreover there is a sort of charm in the evident sincerity of the Laureate, which takes away from the disgust excitable by his intolerance. To modify, in a slight degree, the dry remark of

which marks the intellectual progress of the many; and that two thirds of the press is employed in extending the lighter operation. What matters it while there are Southeys to compose for the gifted few ?

Figaro on count Almaviva, he obviously "thinks that he thinks so." This ought and always will have its effect upon a generous opponent, so long as intolerance can be displayed only in pen and ink. Could it be deemed possible for any set of statesmen to act at this time of day upon the absurd religious and political theories of the Laureate, it would be another affair; but the present session of parliament has set that question at rest, by shewing not only the order of mind which discountenances, but that which supports them-they might withstand their enemies, but never their friends. To conclude: in a purely literary sense Dr. Southey may be deemed one of the most accomplished, wrong-headed men in England-the most astounding churchman, the most indescribable politician, the weakest logician, the wildest theorist, and the poorest philosopher, in Christendom. Yet his books are worth reading, and should be read accordingly.

ART. XIV. Anne of Geierstein; or the Maiden of the Mist. By the Author of Waverley, &c. 3 vols. Cadell & Co., Edinburgh. 1829.

THE supply of pleasure from the Romances of Sir Walter Scott, is considered so sure, that the inquiry of the public on the arrival of the Leith smack, freighted with his inventions relates rather to its comparative than to its actual merits. The author of Waverley has the distinction of affording himself his own standard of measurement: his height is not compared with that of other literary giants: the world is satisfied if simply the component parts of his noble frame are in proportion. If Anne of Geierstein is maintained to be in its kind as interesting or as able as Rob Roy or Quentin Durward, the question is supposed to be answered. As to ourselves the truth is, that the author of these admirable productions possesses so extraordinary a talent at reconceiving and reanimating the dry bones of history, that be his subject only historical, we do not stop to demand information as to the merits of a particular performance the subject may be more or less capable, the author may be more or less happy, but as sure as the work comes from his fashioning hands, there is a stirring life, a truth of conception, a brilliancy of painting and a vigour of expression pervading it, which will amply reward the labour bestowed on its perusal. It is very probable, for instance, that the majority of readers will, on the whole, be disappointed in this last romance: they will find a want of individual character, there is

scarcely one personage to whom sufficient thought has been applied for the full development of his qualities; the author passes over nearly them all with the even hand of history: there is not one in whom he takes much interest beyond the interest he feels in the event in which he is engaged. This we have no doubt will be found a grievous deficiency, for if the general affection for these works were analysed it would probably appear that the firmest hold had been taken on the popular imagination, by such characters as Baillie Jarvie, Dugald Dalgetty, Claverhouse, &c. whose peculiarities, excellencies, and distinguishing marks, are within the reach of every one. The talent which makes a whole age to live over again, is less understood or felt than that which calls into existence an original individual. This has been the tendency of the change in Sir Walter Scott's romances, and perhaps it may account for some decline in the public estimation. Be this as it may, it is true, that in no preceding novel has he so entirely depended upon the general interest of history; in no former work has he adhered so closely to the accredited narratives of historians; and, as in prior romances, where he has wished to place a personage in bolder relief than the rest on his canvas, that person is invariably historical. It may be objected to this, that the Swiss family, who are put in the fore-ground of the work, are exceptions to this remark; but, in fact, the worthy landamman of Unterwalden, Arnold Biederman, and his fair daughter, the Maid of the Mist, play no prominent part in the drama, and may be said to be virtually dropped when the author has arrived fairly at his subject. And not only they but every other character is invented in opposition to historical persons; and the piece may be considered as devised for mere scene-shifters, who are moved about at the author's pleasure, in order to give him an opportunity of describing the scenes in which he places them, and in which they are the least important objects.

The machinery of Anne of Geierstein is almost entirely carried on by two Englishmen, travelling from Italy into Burgundy under the assumed names of Philipson: they are really however intended to represent John de Vere, earl of Oxford, and his son Arthur, the banished adherents of the house of Lancaster in the wars of the Roses. The elder Philipson is invested with a secret mission, the object of which is, to induce Charles the Bold to aid the remnant of the Lancasterians, in an attempt upon the throne of England. On whose part this mission is sent, we are at a loss to guess; it would appear that Margaret of Anjou who is here represented as not having lost all hopes, was its moving spring; she was, however, not in Italy,

for Philipson found her at Strasburg, hanging upon the neighbourhood of the duke of Burgundy's court. Still, however,it is she who has invested Philipson with his credentials, which are no other than a diamond necklace of great value; this necklace plays an important rôle in the history, it not only gives rise to the seizure and execution of De Hagenbach, the lord and oppressor of la Ferette, but, after many strange fortunes and mishaps, it is placed before Charles, both as the proof of the ambassador's authority to treat with him, and the pledge of the repayment of the loan demanded of him. This embassy, beginning and ending in nothing, as it does, gives the author an excuse for taking his readers through Switzerland, wandering with them along the Rhine, loitering about the camp and court of the duke of Burgundy, and finally of describing the three eventful battles in which Charles lost his armies, his treasure, and his life. The younger Philipson has also his mission, but it is from the court of Venus; he gets enamoured en passant, with the maid of Geierstein, and the course of the true love of this pair is also somewhat troubled in order to answer the purposes of the author. The Maid of the Mist, after saving the life of her lover (the description of whose dangers, by the way, is exaggerated and improbable), then an unknown voyager trembling and tumbling on the top of a precipice, by her activity and her familiarity with the mountainpasses, pursues their fortunes, not exactly in company, but in different conditions and at different distances, under various excuses, we mean, of course, excuses on the part of the author, and not of the lady, although, indeed, her attachment is of the class of those which are broadly pronounced. This Swiss Diana Vernon enables the author to give us some scenes on the right bank of the Rhine, while the elder Philipson traversing the left bank of the same river (the father and the son having separated for no better reason that we know of), affords an opportunity of describing his adventures of another kind. The author has involved him very unnecessarily with the secret tribunals of the time, the Carbonari of the fifteenth century, called the Vehme, in order as it would seem to introduce us to one of the subterranean meetings of the Vehmegericht. We perceive that this is an elaborate effort of the author's, a piece of diabolism prepense, which, in our opinion, is far from producing the result calculated upon by the writer. Perhaps it may be, that we are grown too old for these fantastic horrors, but it is true, that we should have laughed outright at all the machinery of pullies and springs by which poor Mr. Philipson is let down among the incantations of the illuminati, and the subsequent mock solemnity of the interrogations, had we not been restrained by our respect for