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mon version; but when he alters only for the sake of alteration, he makes miserable work. E. g. A hind let go may exhibit genteel Naphtali; he gives fine words for, " Naphtali is a hind let loose; he giveth goodly words.” I am he who am is better than I am that I am. He calls the Song, the Poem of Solomon; song, he says, being of prophane use.

UNPUBLISHED MSS. It seems almost incredible, and yet the statement does not appear to be contradicted, that there are valuable works prepared by Cudworth for the press, that are still unpublished by the university which possesses them. There is also extant in MSS a folio volume of unprinted sermons by Jeremy Taylor. Bishop Berkeley's journal of his travels in Italy is in the same neglected state. While such gems might be found at home, we think the royal patronage was rather idly employed in exploring the ruins of Herculaneum.

PARTY Passion. « Well sir," exclaimed a lady, the vehement and impassionate partizan of Wilkes, in the day of his glory, and during the broad blaze of his patriotism,--" well sir! and will you dare deny, that Mr. Wilkes is a great man, and an eloquent man?" Oh! by no means, madam! I have not a doubt respecting Mr. Wilkes's talents.--"Well, but sir! and is he not a fine man, too, and a handsome man?” Why, madam! he squints-doesn't hc? “ Squints! yes, to be sure he does, sir! but not a bit more than a gentleman and a man of sense ought to squint!!

Great Poets. Ben Johnson has borrowed a just and noble sentiment from Strabo. “If men will impartially and not asquint look toward the offices and function of a poet, they will easily conclude to themselves the impossibility of any man's being a great poet without being first a good man.” In the “ Shepherds Hunting," a poem by Withers, which was published in 1620, the poet thus speaks of the pleasures which he received from the remembrance of the delightful occupations of his youth, augmented by an ardent love for the muses:

In my former days of bliss,
Its divine skill taught me this:

That from every thing I saw,
I could some invention draw;
And raise pleasure to her height
Through the meanest object's sight:
By the murmur of a spring,
Or the least bough's rusteling;
By a daizy, whose leaves spread,
Shut when Titan goes to bed;
Or a shady bush or tree:
It could more infuse in me
Than all nature's beauties can
In some other wiser man.

ENGRAVING. Of all the imitative arts, engraving is the most applicable to general use, and from the facility with which prints are re-produced, they have acquired one kind of superiority over paintings of a character almost miraculous.

What though no marble breathes, no canvass glows,
From every print a ray of genius flows!
Be mine to bless the more mechanic skill;
That stamps, renews, and multiplies at will;
And cheaply circulates, through distant climes,
The fairest relic of the purest times.-Rogers.

Engraving has another advantage over painting of the highest consequence, and that is, durability. It is remarked, that while the pictures of Raphael, like those of Apelles and Zeuxis have mouldered from their walls, the prints of Raimondi, his friend and cotemporary, are in complete preservation, and afford a lively conception of the beauties of those paintings, which, but for the graver's art would have been lost forever. It is also justly said, that before the invention of printing in the fifteenth century, the accumulated wisdom of ages was confined to a few perishing MSS. too expensive to be generally obtained, and too valuable to be frequently transferred from the hands of the proprietor. What printing has been to science, engraving has been to art, and the works of the best masters, whether of painting or sculpture, will be indebted to it, for that perpetuity, which the invention of printing has secured, to the Inferno of Dante, and the Cid of Corneille.

VOL. IV.

ROBINSON CRUSOE'S REFLECTIONS. In one of the volumes of a well known mariner, we find the following reflections:

I Robinson Crusoe, grown old in affliction, borne down by calumny and reproach, but supported from within, boldly prescribe this remedy against the universal clamours and contempt of mankind. Patience, a steady life of virtue and sobricty, and a comforting dependence on the justice of Providence, will first or last, restore the patient to the opinion of his friends, and justify him in the face of his enemies; and in the meanwhile, will support him comfortably, in despising those who want manners and charity, and leave them to be tormented with their own passions and rage.

This thought made me long ago claim a kind of property in some good old lines of the famous George Withers, Esq. made in prison in the tower. He was a poetical gentleman, who had, in the time of the civil wars in England, been unhappy in changing sides too often, and had been put in the tower by every side in turn; once by the king_once by parliament-once by the armyand, last again, I think, by general Monk: in a word, whatever side got up, he had the disaster to be down. The lines are thus:

The world and I may well agree,

As most that are offended:
For I flight her and she flights me,

And there our quarrel's ended.
For service done and love express'd,

Though very few regard it,
My country owes me bread at least;

And if I am debarr’d it,
Good conscience is a daily feast,

And sorrow never marr'd it.

It is the custom to bind a thread on one's finger for the sake of remembering any thing. A very ancient practice: for we read, Deut. vi. 9. « And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be as frontlets between thine eyes."

CRITICISM. Memoirs of the Life of Anthony Benezet. By Roberts

Vaux. Philadelphia. 12mo. pp. 136. 1817. This is a laudable attempt to preserve the memory of an unobtrusive but useful man, who is still remembered by many of us. Anthony Benezet was born in France in the year 1713. His father, a man of wealth and consideration, was obliged to seek refuge in Holland, from the persecutions which the Huguenots endured under the reign of Louis XIV. From Rotterdam he removed to London, where young Benezet was qualified for mercantile pursuits, which, however, he abandoned from scruples of a religious nature; and engaged himself with a cooper. At the age of fourteen be attached himself to the society of friends. Four years afterwards he emigrated to this city with his father's family, and in 1736 he married. Even at this early period of his life, “ at an age” says Mr. Vaux, “ when the generality of mankind are most concerned to determine in what manner they shall apply their time and talents, for their own aggrandisement, and are seen eagerly grasping for wealth, or panting for those honours and that fame which humanity can bestow, Anthony Benezet exhibits the rare example of a man, subjecting every selfish and ambitious passion to the superior obligations of religion, offering himself a candidate for any service which might contribute to promote his Creator's honour, and advance the happiness of his fellow beings.”

In his twenty-sixth year he engaged in the business of teaching youth, first in Germantown, afterwards in a public school founded by William Penn, and lastly on his own account, in a seminary for females, in this city. The biographer praises his attention to one of his pupils, who was deaf and dumb, but who, under his instruction, was enabled to enjoy some intercourse with society. What was the plan pursued by the teacher is not explained, but the fact demonstrates the benevolence of his mind. His solicitude for the welfare of the charge committed to him was further evinced in the compilation of a Primmer and Spelling Book, on which subjects, he appears to have entertained very correct opinions. Notwithstanding his fondness for the scenes of domestic life, his feelings of the subject of the slave trade, brought

him from retirement; and about the middle of the last century he distinguished himself as a zealous friend to the blacks. We have before had occasion to observe that the infamy of this detestable traffic was first discovered in our wilderness, and we claim for the quakers of Pennsylvania and Clarkson, the praises which are so gratuitously lavished on the potentates of Europe. Instead of empty declamation the exertions of Benezet were practical and unremitted. He opened a night school where he taught blacks without compensation. He contributed liberally from his own narrow means to a public institution established for the same purpose, and became convinced, he says, that “the commonly received notion, respecting the capacity of the blacks, is a vulgar prejudice.” He published a variety of essays on this important subject, and brought it into notice by letters which he addressed to many persons of note, at home and abroad. A fervent and sensible epistle « to Charlotte, queen of Great Britain,” accompanied by a collection of his tracts on slavery, was favourably received by the personage for whom they were intended, who remarked that « the writer was truly a good man, and that she kindly accepted the present.”

He was equally zealous in behalf of the aborigines, who have always been shamefully treated by the first settlers and their successors, down to our own times. Several of our public institutions, for which this city is so pre-eminently distinguished, were much indebted to Benezet, while in their infant state. The poor were often relieved by the charitable feelings which he excited in their behalf.

“ He ardently inculcated his belief, in the great responsibility attached to the possession of wealth, and from those who were blest with ability to do good, to the poor and friendless, he implored the most liberal dispensation of money for their relief. His appeals on this account were often ayailing. He frequently obtained large donations for charitable purposes from those, who were greatly indebted to his efforts for the enjoyment of the “ luxury of doing good.” So judicious was he in the distri- ! bution of pecuniary assistance, that without any suggestion by him, his friend the late John Reynel of Philadelphia, made him his almoner, and in that capacity Benezet had the satisfaction for many years to dis

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