ment strikes me, that the confessedly sublimest passage in the whole Bible, is composed of monosyllables throughout, "God said, Let there be light, and there was light." The style of Milton is usually much more laboured than that of Shakspeare, but no reader of taste will think that sesquipedalian verbiage, or phraseological pomp, could add to the grandeur of such conceptions as these, "Where peace. And rest can never dwell, hope never comes, "The mind is its own place, and of itself Can make a heav'n of hell, a hell of heav'n." "Which God by curse Created evil,-for evil only good! Where all life dies, death lives.” Passages as little indebted as these to splendor of diction, for their sublimity, occur frequently in Milton. Page 8.-" Brings Constable's piled quartos in her hold." Miss Seward's Letters are far more interesting, and do her much more credit than her Poetry. It was her good fortune to move in a very exalted sphere, and, (if measured by the only proper standard, mind) to enjoy the noblest society. From a correspondent so circumstanced, the merest diary could not be dull; the matter must impart some animation to the style. Nor could the task be difficult, as it seems to require little more than to see, hear, and remember. But Miss Seward may aspire to much higher praise; she was evidently gifted with talent to profit by the enviable advantages she enjoyed, no less than taste duly to appreciate them. She is not so much a recorder, as an actor in the scene; the equal, and the friend of wits, not the dependent retailer of their witticisms; a Gem, that could reflect the flashes by which she was illuminated. Page 10.With the free spirit of a youthful Knight.” I have heard that the Jailor of the Temple in Paris had formed so high an opinion of English honor and courage, as he saw them embodied in the person of his prisoner, that he has declared that if Sir Sidney knew that he was to be executed at one, and had requested permission to walk unattended through the streets of Paris at twelve, he should have granted the request, on receiving Sir Sidney's bare word that he would return. One chief merit of the stratagem by which Sir Sydney escaped was, that while it liberated his body, it secured his honour. Poor Phillippeaux, the heroic friend and deliverer of Sir Sidney, died from fatigue, in the campaign of Egypt. Amidst the cold and calculating selfishness of modern times, an instance of such chivalrous and disinterested attachment, refreshes us like an Oasis in the desert. An attempt of a similar nature was lately made by two young Americans, equal to the one to which I have alluded in its heroism, but not in its success. Having a very slight and remote acquaintance with Fayette, but deeply impressed with an esteem for his character, they determined to undertake his liberation from his horrid imprisonment at Olmutz. Their fortunes and their lives became a secondary considera. tion. They took lodgings near his prison, and gradually insinuated themselves ir to the good graces of the Keeper. A few cursory questions concerning the prisoners naturally introduced the name of Fayette. They commisserated his hard fate, and found that the Keeper sympathized with them. In the course of conversation, they discovered that Monsieur F. was permitted to walk at stated hours on the ramparts, guarded by a soldier. They then ventured to observe that they had a few books which were at the service of the prisoner, to beguile the tedious hours of confinement, and were delighted to hear that the Jailor had no objection to indulge him with the perusal of them, in case the volumes were previously submitted to his inspection. By underscoring with a pencil such single words in different pages, as expressed the ideas they wished to communicate, and by a marginal hint to join them in the order in which they were underscored, a correspondence, unsuspected by the Jailor, was soon established; to keep up which, nothing more was necessary, than the exchange of a few volumes. To be brief-Fayette, at the appointed time, breaks from his guards, and throws himself into the arms of his friends, who are waiting on the skirts of the forest with horses; only a few leagues are to be passed, and they are out of the power of Austria. But the sword in the belt of one of his Deliverers, struck the head of his horse, in the act of mounting, and he broke from those who held him. A noble rivalry now succeeded, which of them should be left behind? The point is settled by one of them taking up Fayette behind him. Much time is lost, the Tocsin sounds the alarm-the whole Country is in arms-two roads present themselves-they hesitate, but decide upon the wrong-they are taken. It was with the greatest difficulty that the Austrian Government could be convinced that a scheme so daring, could be digested and attempted by two private and disinterested individuals. When this was fully made out, they were suffered, after a severe and tedious confinement, to depart with their lives. During the long and very rigorous confinement of Mons. F, his liberation was the subject of more than one motion in parliament. The interference of our government was always sternly objected to by Mr. Pitt. This strengthens an anecdote I have heard of the King. To a Nobleman, who lamented the sufferings of Fayette, in his Majesty's presence, not without a hope of gaining so powerful a solicitor in his be half, our Sovereign made use of these remarkable words"Remember Andre ;"-a short sentence, but pregnant with meaning. His Majesty was ever remarkable for an excellent memory; and amidst all the sufferings of Fayette, there are some things in his character, which would almost justify the application of those lines of Ovid, "Neque lex est justior ulla, Quam necis artifices arte perire sud.” Page 14.-"Nor can 1 Darwin tinsel o'er my rhymes." The "flimsy, gauzy, gossamery lines, and sweet tentandryan monogynian strains" of Dr. Darwin have received a sufficient castigation from the author of the Pursuits of Literature. But the Doctor does not seem to have profitted much by criticism. His last Poem, "The Temple of Nature," prepared for the Press before his death, but published after it, abounds with all the meretricious ornaments, turgid diction, puerile personifications, loose analogies, and undidactic philosophy, which distinguish The Botanic Garden. With the single exception of Lucretius, no Poet has so often incurred the charge of "obscurum per obscurius." To explain the connection between unorganized matter and intelligent existence, is a problem as yet unsolved. Those who have sought for its solution in vain, in the groves of Academus, the Portico, or the Lycæum, are not likely to find it in the Rhymes of Dr. Darwin; unless indeed they are satisfied with such explanations as these ; "Next the long nerves unite their silver train, Last in thick swarms Associations spring, Thoughts join to Thoughts, to Motions Motions cling, Imagined joy, and voluntary woe." "Ohe jam satis." The Doctor appears to have been (like some other Doctors) a martyr to his own Theory, which I sus pect was this, Segnius irritant oculos demissa per aures, for in the Botanic Garden, in a kind of note, he condescends to inform his Bookseller that the words expressive of the ideas belonging to Vision, make up the principal part of poetical language. In due conformity with this system, he accuses Pope of having written a bad line in his Windsor Forest; "And Kennet swift for silver Eels renowned." "The word renowned," observes the Doctor, "does not present the idea of a visible object to the mind, and is therefore prosaic, but change the line thus "And Kennet swift where silver graylings play," And it becomes poetry, because the scenery is then brought before the eye." Any reader of taste, will perceive how often the Doctor has failed, by pushing this theory too far, and in how many instances he has been misled by these optical de lusions. Page 23." Thus Cossacks when the Turk their fury fled.” Dr. Clarke has drawn a true and dreadful picture of the subjugation of the Crimea by the Russians; "At Caffa, during the time we remained, the soldiers were allowed to overthrow the beautiful Mosques, or to convert them into Magazines, to pull down the Minarets, tear up the public Fountains, and to destroy all the public Aqueducts, for the sake of a small quantity of lead, which they were thereby enabled to obtain. Such is the true nature of Russian protection; such the sort of alliance which Russians endeavour to form with every nation weak enough to become their dupe. While these works of destruc |