New fences have everywhere to be formed; even new for the murder of his brother, lately perpetrated by him.” houses must be erected, to save which from a like dis A cold shudder past through our frames as we approached aster, the settler places them on an elevated platform, the house. An old man, bent more with grief than age, supported by pillars made of the trunks of trees The around whose venerable countenance hung long locks of lands must be ploughed anew; and if the seabohoslat snow white hair, received us; affirming, in tremulous too far advanced, a crop of corn-und potatoes may yet be accents, that he and his maniac daughter were alone in raised. But the rich prospects of the planter are blasted. the house. As soon as we had satisfied him regarding The traveller is impeded in his journey, the creeks and the object of our visit, and the guide had ventured to smaller streams having broken up their banks in a degree approach, he broke out into passionate wailing, cursing proportionate to their size. A bank of sand, which seems his sons, another of whom, we noty learned, had, a few firm and secure, suddenły gives tway beneath the traveller's years before, murdered his uncle in a fit of jealousy. We horse, and the next moment the animal has sunk in the recoiled with horror from the idea of passing the night quicksand, either to the chest in front or over the craps in this house of blood and grief; and desired our guide per behind, leaving its muster in a situation not to be to reconduct us into the unstained solitude of the forest. envied. gluing ban ylsind -299w 3291 sdt The old man showed us the path which led to the highUnlike the mountain-torrents und small rivers of other road, and, after riding a short way, we arrived at the hut parts of the world, the Mississippi rises but slowly during of a deserted cotton plantation. these floods, continuing for several weeks to increase at the rate of about an inch in the day. When it its height, it undergoes little fluctuation for some days, and after this subsides as slowly as it rose. The usual thiration of | a flood is from four to six weeks, although, on some occal sions, it is protracted to two months; ylenoivany bad sw Every one knows how largely the idea of floods and cataclysms of the We soon kindled a large fire. The fatigues of the sultry day had exhausted us, and yet we could not sleep. The image of the unhappy old man haunted us. The guide, too, did his best to keep us awake, by telling us stories of murders, which, according to his account, were of such frequent occurrence in the thinly-peopled district of Minas Novas, that in one year he had counted sevenillus- the Portuguese emigrants more frequently experienced trations of the formation of Strata, how much more must depravity among their children than the native Brasilthe Mississippi, with its over shifting sand-banks, itsians; and sought to explain this by their neglect to imcrumbling shores, its enormous masses of drift timber, press upon them, at an early age, the necessity of a strict the source of future beds of coal, its extensive and varied morality in their intercourse with the slaves. alluvial deposits, and its mighty mass of waters rolling sullenly along, like the flood of eternity() 27([—bo »¶ Qodub L ListasIC .¿ ) no 17 If the streamerspeculatinent afgist. and tiventy, and in another eighteen. 1 He observed that of A DAY'S ADVENTURES IN 89 .001 BRASU Something was yet wanted to sum up the horrors of the day. We had scarcely fallen asleep, when we were again roused by a violent crackling in the fire, and a peculíár sound, something betwixt a snort and a whistle. We seized our fire-arms and were about to leave the hut ; but our more experienced guide anxiously detained us, pointing 'to an immense snake, which, with infuriated bounds was the surucucu, the strongest of Brasilian poisonous snakes, and on this account doubly terrible in a nightly visit. We fired several times at the monster, but did not dare, when it became still, to seek it in the darkness. Next morning it was nowhere to be found. The horses, which we had left overnight with their fore feet bound together, stood timidly huddled together at the edge of the wood, whence they had in all probability observed the approach of our dangerous visitant. THE road between Sucuruh and the Diamond Wash-and writhings, sought to hurl the firebrands asunder. It eries, at the source of the brook Calhao, was fatiguing and dangerous. We lost our way among the innumerable wood-clad hillocks Every thing around us, had a foreign aspect, and filled the mind with apprehension. The thick forest looked like one' wide grave, for the dry season had stripped both its foliage and blossoms: here and there, indeed, some parasitical flower appeared, but, in general, the huge, stems upreared themselves quite naked, waving their giant branches amid the dark-blue ether. The thorny acacia grew beside the capivi, with its interlaced branches and, more striking than either, the chorisia, slender where to springs from the ground up and at the summit, but hálf-way of kela tun, showed its corky rind. "hests hung upon these trees, many of which were several feet in thickness, their black colour contrasting forcibly with the clear grey of the leafless branches. The unwanted forms of armadillos and ant-eaters met our eyes at every step, and the sloths hung stupidly dreaming on the branches of the ambamba. Occasionally a huge snake would cross our path, and disappear amid the underwood. The harsh screams of periquitos sounded through the sun-dried wood, and herds of the howling ape were heard in the FIFTH EXHIBITION OF THE SCOTTISH ACADEMY. THERE' is no kind of criticism more difficult than that which professes to estimate the value of works of art, and there is none more rashly and unadvisedly hazarded. Few men who were unacquainted with mathematics would pretend to give an opinion of the works of La Place any individual, possessed of an imperfect or uncultivated ear, would hesitate before he gave his opinion of a piece of music or a performer. But set any man, taken at a venture, before a picture or a statue, and it is ten chances to one that he tells you, right slick away," that it is good or bad. If he contented himself with saying it pleased or displeased him, there would be some sense and modesty in the speechThis is annoying and offensive enough in the exhibition room; but when it finds its way into print, it is positive injustice. A modest and talented artist is bowed down by unjust censure, because a person, who can neither see nor comprehend his unobtrusive merits, has stepped, self-elected, into the critic's chair; or a painter, of no merit whatever, is lauded to the skies, because the eye of friendship discovers beauties in his works which no one else can. It is not enough to constitute a critic of art that he possess a spirit alive to the impulses of poetry, and an eye susceptible of the beauties of colour and form. The poetical mind is so much the slave of association—so much accustomed to value objects merely as they suggest stir-have never been out of their own. In their views of the ring trains of thought-that it is often incapable of dwell-general principles of art they are at one; but different ing upon the simple, enduring, and therefore to it mono tempers and habits frequently occasion a difference of opitonous, beauties of a picture 5 while, on the other hand, nion upon particular points. As every judgment is the the veriest daub that re-awakens in it some elevated or final and deliberate decision of the whole, there is little tender fancy, receives the credit of the pleasant reverie to danger of their being misled by the partialities of friendwhich it has accidentally given birth. Again, it does not ship, or the peculiarities of individual taste. follow because a man has a love for the beauties of natura, bo We (in order to return from the impersonal to the that he is capable of thoroughly appreciating art, any personal mode of speaking-although there are few who more than because the ear of one wandering upon the have less taste for personality than ourselves) have inmoonlight beach is capable of feeling the full sweetness dulged at too great length in discussing what a learned of notes awakened by the alternate dash and rippling of barrister calls, the general question," to admit of our the waves, he must be expected to appreciate the-linked entering at present upon the individual merits of the and giddy melody, or the overpowering harmony of some different artists. This we shall, however, in the course of masterpiece of music. The stray beauties of nature, iso- the next week-briefly and pithily. We may, however, lated and accidental, are within the reach of every dapa- remark, that, after a careful study of the present Exhicity; but it is not every one to whom it is given to quaff | bition, we are unanimously of opinion that it is the best the rich cup which the poet, the painter, or the musician, we have yet seen in Edinburgh. It has little glare, but mixes up with such ingredients. Most people look upon much real sterling merit. There are more works in it a picture as they do upon a beautiful object in nature. capable of bearing repeated examination than we rememThey are struck by one or other of the arrows which it ber to have seen on any former occasion. It gives us a shoots forth on all sides. They catch a random charm. higher idea of the advanced state of art among us than And even this is much it adds to their happiness, it we had previously entertained, o* 69158110q softens and attempers their disposition. Much is already has boolt. lo ng ›í adli zlomul you wo gained in a nation, when a large body of its inhabitants ergology at bo enojalinan ada atai tover have attained even this imperfect stage of feeling for art. LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC SOCIETIES OF But he who presumes to speak and judge of the works at stom doua wodEDINBURGH) 7 to of art, must go further. He must feel not only the inci- ti edand-bar 20WERKERIAN SOCIETY. iqqueer dental beauties of a picture, he must feel its worth as and ait itub to 2922601 200utogo, ali, whole; he must, in short, comprehend it. To this power Saturday, February 19. he cannot attain however liberal nature may have been to him-without long and anxious study study not of books, but of pictures. Words are here of no avail; the living and embodied object must be dwelt upon. We appeal to painters themselves, whether their views of the art, after they had mastered it, had any resemblance to those vague but passionate yearnings which made them woo it as a bride. With every step they made in learning, a new light went up before them regarding its nature and object. Practice in this, as in every thing else, can alone give knowledge. By keeping in view the requisites of a good judge, even the uninitiated may soon be enabled to detect his imitaThe incompetent (because ignorant) critic may tor. baix v bas gvízп9179 eti 180) to 2090 90 10 on the AN ingenious parcs of tiquity," always be recognised by one of two marks. Either he is state of perfection within the influence of rocks on the clamorous and frequent in his declaration of contempt for all technicalities, and indulges in rhapsodical descrip- nature of vegetables, by Dr Murray of Aberdeen, in which tions of the trains of thought and feeling which a pic-mon plants of the floras of Paris, Edinburgh, and Aberthe author instituted a comparison between the most comture suggests; or, on the contrary, having picked up a deen, and came to the conclusion, that general vegetation, few terms of art, he applies them at random-talking a in regard to species, is not influenced by the subjacent rock. sort of Babylonish dialect which neither he nor any one Exceptions to the rule were of course admitted. In the else understands. The first is in general a literary man, conversation which ensued, Dr Graham seemed to favour with some talent, and a great command of words, but the same views. who has not cultivated, that sense, to which the art of painting addresses itself the second is a man of neither talent, information, nor feeling, who has been taught all that can be taught the mixing of colours, drawing straight lines, and carrying into execution a few conventional rules. Looking back upon what we have written, and feeling that decided and strong as our expressions are, they are yet but the simple truth, we feel cousiderable reluctance and trepidation at the idea of ourselves presuming to enact the part of judges. One reflection alone consoles us— that we have in reality studied the subject with our best attention; and that our judgments, although expressed with decision, are formed deliberately, and maintained without arrogance. The word we is not used on the present occasion, as it frequently is, merely because it forms a modest substitute for the word 1. The criticisms which we propose to publish upon the works exhibiting in the rooms of the Scottish Academy, are really the joint work of a little knot of friends, who are enthusiastic lovers of art. Some of them have had opportunities of studying it in other countries-some of them The last communication laid before the meeting was a douterd sdt no aniɑROTAL SOCIETY.A A NOTICE of the fossil tree discovered in the quarry of Craigleith, in the month of November last, was read by Henry Witham, Esq. The Essayist remarked, that the geological position of this magnificent fossil stem was in the mountain limestone group, and considerably below the great coal basins of the Lothians. Judging from the unworked must have been upwards of 100 feet in depth. The explored rock near where the stem lies, the superincumbent mass part of the fossil, with what has already been removed, is thirty-seven feet in length. Its appearance is that of a large branchless trunk, flattened in some parts, so as to The practical inference to be drawn from this marked difference in the component parts of fossils found in the mountain limestone, and that finer! As we are enabled to ascertain the precise geological nature of many sedimentary deposits by certain species of shells which they contain, so we may now hope, by the obvious distinction bestructure of these plants, to be enabled to ascer downwards, that the stem is perpendicular, and the roots tall the group of rocks to which they belong. By attending to such indications, large sums of money may be spared, which might otherwise be squandered upon experimental mining/11TH Y Professor Wallace read the introductory part of a paper on the nature of the hour-lines on the ancient dials, by T. S. Davies, Esq., Bath. The body of the paper was not laid before the Society, as it consisted entirely of mathematical demonstration. The details of the introductory part were of the same materials, and consequently unsuitable to our pages. imbedded in shale, Mr Witham was prepared to esteem it direct proof that the tree stands where it originally grew, and that the bending had been caused by the overwhelming influence of the current, which brought the matter, now form ing the sandstone, upon the weaker part of the plant, In this case, the direction of the tree would show that of the current. The Essayist next proceeded to enquire to what order of plants the fossil belonged. He dissented from several scientific gentlemen who had pronounced it to be a lycopodium. There was in the external configuration of the plant no ground for such a conjecture-there were no traces simi Mr Stark read a notice, of the black salamander of the lar to the scales of the palm and fern, or the imbricated Alps, two specimens of which, presented to the Society by leaves of the lycopodium. The plant, more resembled a, tree George Fairholme, Esq., were exhibited. This reptile, of the dicotyledonous or gymnospermous phanerogamic from its only appearing for a few weeks at a time, is rarely classes. But Mr Witham proceeded further to examine its met with, and for this reason was not described in the first internal structure, according to the rules laid down in his edition of Cuvier's Regne Animal. It appeared, however, valuable Observations upon Fossil Vegetations. By the aid in the second, under the name of Salamandra atra, a speof a powerful microscope, he discovered most decided me- cies distinct from the S. terrestris, with which it has been dullary rays, and a woody texture, with some appearance of confounded. Mr Stark noticed the power which the young concentric circles. He was therefore led to infer, that the of this genus, in common with the tadpoles of frogs, posplant belonged to the class of coniferæ. The stem, how-sessed of establishing currents in particular directions in ever, so much exceeded the generality of kindred plants the water around them, as observed and described by Dr found in similar situations, that the Essayist hesitated, with Sharpey. Mr Fairholme's specimens were obtained from our present limited knowledge of fossil botany, to name the the High Alps in the Canton of Berne, where it is respecies. Mr Witham adverted, in the conclusion of his garded by the chamois hunters as poisonous, an opinion essay, to the difference in composition of this fossil from the which appears to be utterly unfounded. surrounding medium. It was difficult to explain how the petrifying substance should be different from that forming the matrix of the fossil, Abundance of lime was to be found everywhere in the mountain limestone group, and perhaps the reason why the sandstone contained less of it than the fossil might be, that before the strata were consolidated, the sandstone being of looser texture than the wood, the calçareous matter more easily found its way through the former, but was detained by the latter, and as it decayed replaced it, It was worthy of remark, that the fossils found in the coalfield proper, lying immediately above the mountain limestone, contained little or no lime. While the coniferee of the mountain limestone range was found to contain carbo nate of lime, iron, and small quantities of carbon, those of the coal-field were found to consist almost entirely of silice ous matter, bergoylerom We are not disciples of Godwin, but we have always been ready to admit the pure and noble character of his moral system. We admire his stately flow of language, his manly style of reasoning, and we are glad to hear, at this late hour," the old man eloquent" lifting up his voice once more. The volume before us consists of a series of essays, only connected by the kindred tone of thought and feeling which we recognise in all of them. It is, to use the author's own words, an attempt "to give a defined and permanent form to a variety of thoughts which have occurred to his mind in the course of thirty-four years,' It may be regarded, in short, as a continuation of the series of essays published by Mr Godwin under the title of the Enquirer." It is impossible within our narrow limits to give any adequate notion of a work so multifarious in its contents. It is difficult to choose amidst such a variety; but we are inclined to think that our readers will thank us for laying before them some of those incidental confessions, which let us, in some measure, into the secret of Godwin's mind. He speaks thus of the recollections of his early days: Price 6d. duced upon his character at the period when the Enquiry concerning Political Justice was published: "A new epoch occurred in my character, when I published, and at the time I was writing, my Enquiry concerning Political Justice. My mind was wrought up to a certain elevation of tone; the speculations in which I was engaged, tending to embrace all that was most important to man in society, and the frame to which I had assiduously bent myself, of giving quarter to nothing because it was old, astounding, gave a new bias to my character. The habit and shrinking from nothing because it was startling and which I thus formed put me more on the alert even in the scenes of ordinary life, and gave me a boldness and an eloquence more than was natural to me. I then reverted to the principle which I stated in the beginning, of being ready to tell my neighbour whatever it might be of advantage to him to know, to show myself the sincere and zealous advocate of absent merit and worth, and to contribute by every means in my power to the improvement of others, and to the diffusion of salutary truths through the world. I desired that every hour that I lived should be turned to the best account, and was bent each day to examine whether I had conformed myself to this rule. I held on this course with tolerable constancy for five or six years: and, even when that constancy abated, it failed not to leave a beneficial effect on my subsequent conduct. "But, in pursuing this scheme of practice, I was acting a part somewhat foreign to my constitution. I was by nature more of a speculative than an active character, more inclined to reason within myself upon what I heard and saw, than to declaim concerning it. I loved to sit by unobserved, and to meditate upon the panorama before me. At first I associated chiefly with those who were more or less admirers of my work; and, as I had risen (to speak in the "I go back to the recollections of my youth, and can slang phrase) like a 'star' upon my contemporaries without scarcely find where to draw the line between ineptness and being expected, I was treated generally with a certain degree maturity. The thoughts that occurred to me, as far back of deference, or, where not with deference and submission, as I can recollect them, were often shrewd; the suggestions yet as a person whose opinions and view of things were to ingenious; the judgments not seldom acute. I feel myself be taken into the account. The individuals who most strethe same individual all through. Sometimes I was un-nuously opposed me, acted with a consciousness that, if reasonably presumptuous, and sometimes unnecessarily distrustful. Experience has taught me in various instances a sober confidence in my decisions; but that is all the dif ference. So to express it, I had then the same tools to work with as now; but the magazine of materials upon which I had to operate was scantily supplied. Like the apothecary in Romeo and Juliet, the faculty, such as it was, was within me; but my shelves contained but a small amount of furni ture: A beggarly account of empty boxes, Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses, Which, thinly scatter'd, serv'd to make a show.' In speaking thus of the intellectual powers of my youth, I am, however, conceding too much. It is true,Practice maketh perfect. But it is surprising, in apt and towardly youth, how much there is to commend in the first essays. The novice, who has his faculties lively and on the alert, will strike with his hammer almost exactly where the blow ought to be placed, and give nearly the precisely right force to the act. He will seize the thread it was fitting to seize; and though he fail again and again, will show an adroitness upon the whole that we scarcely know how to account for. The man whose career shall ultimately be crowned with success, will demonstrate in the beginning that he was destined to succeed." In a subsequent essay, he describes the change pro they affected to despise me, they must not expect that all the bystanders would participate in that feeling. "But this was to a considerable degree the effect of novelty. My lungs, as I have already said, were not of iron; my manner was not overbearing and despotic; there was nothing in it to deter him who differed from me from entering the field in turn, and telling the tale of his views and judgments in contradiction to mine. I descended into the arena, and stood on a level with the rest. Beyond this, it occasionally happened that, if I had not the stentorian lungs, and the petty artifices of rhetoric and conciliation, that should carry a cause independently of its merits, my antagonists were not deficient in these respects. I had nothing in my favour to balance this, but a sort of constitutional equanimity and imperturbableness of temper, which, if I was at any time silenced, made me not look like a captive to be dragged at the chariot-wheels of my adversary. "All this, however, had a tendency to subtract from my vocation as a missionary. I was no longer a knight-errant, prepared on all occasions, by dint of arms, to vindicate the cause of every principle that was unjustly handled, and every character that was wrongfully assailed. Meanwhile I returned to the field, occasionally and uncertainly. It required some provocation and incitement to call me out : but there was the lion, or whatever combative animal may more justly prefigure me, sleeping, and that might be awakened. "There is another feature necessary to be mentioned, in gree the order to make this a faithful representation. There are persons, it should seem, of whom it may predicated, that they are semper parati. This has by no means been my case. My genius often deserted me. I was far from having the thought, the argument, or the illustration at all times ready, when it was required. I resembled to a certain depersons we read of, who are said to be struck as if with a divine judgment. I was for a moment changed into one of the mere herd, de grege porcus. My powers, therefore, were precarious; and I could not always be the intrepid and qualified advocate of truth, if I vehemently desired it. I have often, a few minutes afterwards, or on my return to my chambers, recollected the train of thinking, which would have shown me off to advantage, and memorably done me honour, if I could have had it at my command the moment it was wanted. "And so much for confession. I am by no means vindicating myself. I honour much more the man who is at all times ready to tell his neighbour whatever it may be of advantage to him to know, to show himself the sincere and untemporising advocate of absent merit and worth, and to contribute, by every means in his power, to the improvement of others, and to the diffusion of salutary truths through the world." There is exquisite truth and beauty in the short passage which we here subjoin, as a fit winding-up of the subject discussed in the two preceding extracts: "The book that I read when I was a boy, presents quite a new face to me as I advance in the vale of years. The same words and phrases suggest to me a new train of ideas. And it is no mean pleasure that I derive from the singular sensation of finding the same author and the same book, old and yet not old, presenting to me cherished and inestimable recollections, and at the same time communicating mines of wealth, the shaft of which was till now unexplored." The appreciation of the effects of resorting to the public. house upon our peasantry and artisans, accords entirely with our own notions: "I assert, that the merits and demerits of the publichouse are very unjustly rated by the fastidious among the more favoured orders of society. "We ought to consider that the opportunities and amusements of the lower orders of society are few. They do not frequent coffeehouses; theatres and places of public exhibition are ordinarily too expensive for them; and they cannot engage in rounds of visiting, thus cultivating a private and familiar intercourse with the few whose conversation might be most congenial to them. We certainly bear hard upon persons in this rank of society, if we expect that they should take all the severer labour, and have no periods of unbending and amusement. "But in reality what occurs in the public-house we are too much in the habit of calumniating. If we would visit this scene, we should find it pretty extensively a theatre of eager and earnest discussion. It is here that the ardent and 'unwashed artificer,' and the sturdy husbandman, compare notes and measure wits with each other. It is their arena of intellectual combat, the ludus literarins of their unrefined university. It is here they learn to think. Their minds are awakened from the sleep of ignorance; and their attention is turned into a thousand channels of improvement. They study the art of speaking, of question, allegation, and rejoinder. They fix their thought steadily on the statement that is made, acknowledge its force, or detect its insufficiency. They examine the most interesting topics, and form opinions, the result of that examination. They learn maxims of life, and become politicians. They canvass the civil and criminal laws of their country, and learn the value of political liberty. They talk over measures of state, judge of the intentions, sagacity and sincerity of public men, and are likely in time to become in no contemptible degree capable of estimating what modes of conducting national affairs, whether for the preservation of the rights of all, or for the vindication and assertion of justice between man and man, may be expected to be crowned with the greatest success: in a word, they thus become, in the best sense of the word, citizens. "As to excess in drinking, the same thing may be expected to occur here, as has been remarked of late years in better company in England. In proportion as the understanding is cultivated, men are found to be less the victims of drinking and the grosser provocatives of sense. The king of Persia of old made it his boast that he could drink large quantities of liquor with greater impunity than any of his subjects. Such was not the case with the more polished Greeks. In the dark ages the most glaring enormities of that kind prevailed. Under our Charles the Second, coarse dissipation and riot characterised the highest circles. Roches ter, the most accomplished man and the greatest wit of our island, related of himself that, for five years together, he could not affirm that for any one day he had been thoroughly sober. In Ireland, a country less refined than our own, the period is not long past, when on convivial occasions the master of the house took the key from his door, that no one of his guests might escape without having had his dose. No small number of the contemporaries of my youth fell premature victims to the intemperance which was then practised. Now wine is merely used to excite a gayer and livelier tone of the spirits; and inebriety is scarcely known in the higher circles. In like manner, it may readily be believed that, as men in the lower classes of society become less ignorant and obtuse, as their thoughts are less gross, as they wear off the vestigia ruris, the remains of a barbarous state, they will find less need to set their spirits afloat by this animal excitement, and will devote themselves to these thoughts and that intercourse which shall inspire them with better and more honourable thoughts of our common na ture. On the whole, we have been highly delighted with this volume, although one or two passages have struck us as prophetic of the encroachments of age. This is peculiarly the case in the essay upon Self-love-and this annoys us the more, because the author, although weak in argument, is on the right side of the question. Mr Godwin will do well to remember the Archbishop of Granada. Attempts in Verse, by John Jones, an old Servant; with some Account of the Writer, written by Himself; and an Introductory Essay on the Lives and Writings of Uneducated Poets. By Robert Southey, Esq., Poet Laureate. 8vo. Pp. 332. London. John Murray. 1831. MR SOUTHEY has appreciated these poems very justly in his introductory essay: "Upon perusing the poems, I wished they had been either better or worse. Had I consulted my own convenience, or been fearful of exposing myself to misrepresentation and censure, I should have told my humble applicant, that although his verses contained abundant proof of a talent for poetry, which, if it had been cultivated, might have produced good fruit, they would not be deemed worthy of publication in these times. But, on the other hand, there were in them such indications of a kind and happy disposition, so much observation of natural objects, such a relish of the innocent pleasures offered by nature to the eye, ear, and heart, which are not closed against them, and so pleasing an example of the moral benefit derived from those pleasures, when they are received by a thankful and thoughtful mind, that I persuaded myself there were many persons who would partake, in perusing them, the same kind of gratifi cation which I had felt. There were many, I thought, who would be pleased at seeing how much intellectual enjoyment had been attained in humble life, and in very unfavourable circumstances; and that this exercise of the mind, instead of rendering the individual discontented with his station, had conduced greatly to his happiness; and if it had not made him a good man, had contributed to keep him so. This pleasure should in itself, methought, be sufficient to content those subscribers who might kindly patronize a little volume of his verses. Moreover, I considered, that as the age of reason had commenced, and we were advancing with quick step in the march of intellect. Mr Jones would, in all likelihood, be the last versifier of his class; something might properly be said of his prede cessors, the poets in low lite, who, with more or less good fortune, had obtained notice in their day; and here would be matter for an introductory essay, not uninteresting in itself, and contributing something towards our literary history. And if I could thus render some little service to a man of more than ordinary worth, (for such, upon the best testimony, Mr Jones appeared to be,) it would be something not to be repented of, even though I should fail in the hope (which failure, however, I did not apprehend) of affording |
