ed by a train of poisonous consequences. The maxim, to live and let live, must never be forgotten even by the profoundest inquirer into the theory of imposture; for it would be impossible for the transactions of the world to go ou for one half hour without a very great difference between appearances and realities."

Such is Dousterswivel's first exposition of the principles and theory of imposture, which appears most unquestionably sound and true, and given with a laborious simplicity and faithfulness of expression. But we must proceed to give an extract from chapter second, on the Relation of Jesting to Imposture. We were delighted in perusing the following passage. We remembered how much we have victoriously effected in the manner here described; as many a one now vainly attempting to patch up again the pieces of his broken mask can testify. If Dousterswivel had written nothing else but the following passage, it would, of itself, been sufficient to mark him out as the first metaphysician of the age:

"Ridicule has most frequently been used in detecting imposture; and the abstract definition of a jest is nearly the same as imposture perceived and understood. Most instances of the ridiculous are the discovery of dissimilar things contained under one form, like the shark, and the mariner's compass, which it had swallowed, The same is the case with the outer and inner parts of the onion, which are distinct, and of different sizes, though under one form. A pun, or equivocal phrase, contains two dissimilar meanings, and the word by which they are expressed implies both, But jesting is not an imposition on the hearer; for, unless the differences of meaning are perceived, it is not understood by him as a jest and, therefore, jesting is the same thing as imposture perceived and understood; or, in other words, it is the knowledge of different things contained under one outward form. And the onion (which is said to be applied to the eyes for producing hypocritical tears) becomes, when cut across, the symbol of jesting, and of imposture detected.

Thus jesting must be the same as discrimination or judgment as to difference of form, which is best tried by conceiving one form imposed on an

other, as a circle on a parallelogram, The intellectual character of jesting is the contrary of the recognition of sameness, or following likeness or species through different objects. The contemplation of species passing unchanged from one object to another, tranquillizes the mind, and sooths its anxiety, by the assurance of a permanent sameness, which is abstract truth shewn in multiplicity made one, as in the many fragrant leaves of the royal rose. The feeling produced by jesting is hurried and restless, and requires a frequent change of objects. On the contrary, monotonously going over the same thing, like the turning of a wheel, is sometimes a means of imposing, by making different things pass for one. The perpetual renewal of the same thing causes a drowsiness, which is easily over-reached, and probably from thence come the phrases of humming' and 'diddling a person out of his money. Even the many eyes of Argus were, at last, oppressed and lulled asleep by Mercury's wand, which had the power of inducing torpor and stupefaction, and was well fitted to wave over the dead. But the intellectual character of jesting is the perpetual detection of difference; and, therefore, persons who have a taste for the ludicrous are the best for dealing with impostors."

In chapter third, a curious analysis is given of the relation of imposture to violence, which is compared to the ancient combat of gladiators, in which one fought with a net and trident, and the other with a sword and shield. Dousterswivel justly remarks, that imposture and violence are the two worst things in the world, and that their struggles are like those of the Anaconda serpent and the tiger. But we turn from a subject so disgusting, and think it unnecessary to quote the passage, as it would give little pleasure to our readers to contemplate the relations of cheating and brutal force.

The subject of chapter fourth is On the Relation of Imposture to Self-comtentment, which he compares to a veil drawn around ignorance, and preventing the mind from feeling any deficiency. But in chapter fifth he proceeds to treat of the Relation of Imposture to Literature, and there are the following sensible remarks which we quote with pleasure, on account of that

part which relates to the most proper form for an extended literature.

"In literature, the charge of imposture must evidently come, in the first place, against those works which have not an existence per se, like standard trees, but are imposed upon something else, like the ivy. This definition applies to the reviews and literary journals, with which literature has been overrun. These are necessary for giving the public some account of new publications, which, on account of their number and diversity, could never be heard of by one-sixth part of those who read. In performing the office of reporters, however, the journalists are sometimes like the ivy, which derives its support from the substantive trunk, and then mounting aloft, flourishes in insolent displays over its head. Such is the image of journalists, who, after reading a book, and sucking its contents, affect, in their criticism, to know more than the author who wrote it, and completely to over-reach him. There is much temptation for literary reporters to do this; and therefore, although they are useful to the public, they must often despoil and cheat other persons of their just claim to praise. The newspapers and political journals are another sort of clinging plants, which impose their short-lived ramifications upon passing events, or make use of public characters for hanging their festoons upon, and stealing their interest from. Among reviews and journals, one great corrective of deception is their number, and the contrariety and dissonance of their reports, which impair the credit of any particular misrepresentation, and enable truth to escape amidst the collisions of opposite falsehoods. The great check to human presumption has always been the confusion of tongues, which prevented the building of Babel, and has often since been the means of scattering the powers of imposition. But in speaking of reviews and journals, and of the necessity which there is for such vehicles of information, it may be suggested to authors in general, that the proper form for a very extended literature is that of periodical publications, which, besides criticism, are also the means of publishing original works. When so many works are composed, the printing of a book separately becomes rather a clumsy way of ascertaining

whether it be worth reading. Therefore, although novels or histories must always be printed separately, the shorter productions of literature should be given first in periodical works; and if a composition is such as to be afterwards required in the form of a separate publication, it can be printed and sold by itself. This is the natural tendency of the stream of literature, and probably is the course which it will at last adopt. The number of periodical works increases so fast, that criticism and reporting can scarcely be enough to fill them; and there can be no doubt that many persons who in former times would have written separate books, are now contented with giving the results of their studies, or the creations of their fancies, in periodical works. And for this reason, I think that the proper form of a very extended literature is that of journals, which are also the means of giving immediate publicity to original works."

From these observations on literature, we pass to a very different part of the book, that is to say, Chapter Sixth, which is on the Removal of Dress. However much we may admire the acuteness of this writer, we cannot but consider the subject of this chapter, notwithstanding the meta-, physical gravity with which the investigation is conducted, as something bordering on indelicacy. During the time we were reading the chapter, we trembled for each sentence that was to follow. The slightest breath seemed enough to blow aside the last veil which was permitted to remain. We trembled in the perusal, but we know not whether the author trembled in writing.-Philosophers are the most inconsiderate of men.

But we must now mention the last chapter, which contains all that is most exceptionable, and abounds with personalities which cannot be defended. And indeed, were it necessary to say a word on the subject, we should scarcely know in what manner to express the sensations with which such an exposure must be viewed. Chapter Seventh is On the Manners and Language of Sc-ndr-ls in general. We know not what to think of the pen which, in treating of such a subject, can gravely seek for particular instances. We can only say, that no regret would have been occasioned to us, if this chapter had been left out.

As we were the first amongst English critical publications, to step forward and render justice to the merits of Brown and Irving, our Trans-Atlantic readers, irritable as they may be, and as they certainly are, will, we hope, take in good part any of our observations that may seem ungracious. -Notwithstanding the exclamations against English illiberality and prejudice, the tide of our criticism has set outrageously in favour of American genius. To a certain extent, no conduct on our part could have been more amiable or more wise; but beyond that we rather dread its effects, and must in limine protest against our elevating a'kind of hot-house over American productions, to draw to the light prematurely, every sick and weakly germe, that had better remain to rot and be forgotten. Geoffrey Crayon is an American born, and has written with a taste and elegance, 'tis true, not often rivalled even in England; but, that for a great deal of this perfection he is indebted to a long residence in this country, few will deny. His life of Campbell is written in very bad taste; and the History of New York, in spite of some humorous traits, is often both very indecorous and very dull.

Had English critics a meditated design of deteriorating American literature, and of emasculating it of all originality, they could not have pursued a better course than the one they have done, of lauding fiercely the "Sketch Book," and recommending it as a model to the author's countrymen. It is for them very unlucky to be possessed of all our appendages to advanced literary taste all styles of poetry and prose brought to perfection-fastidiousness-reviews-and blue-stocking coteries. Their poets are followers of Byron or of Pope; their essayists, of Addison and Goldsmith; what will be the consequence, when in a few years they tire of the eternal sameness of these models in both species of writing, and betake themselves, in search of variety, to fabricate the blank verse of the Lakes, and the hair-strung paragraphs of Hazlitt? The beauties of Irving become rank defects, when we

consider him as one of the aboriginal writers of a country. We love independence in others, as well as in ourselves; a generous rivalry, nay, even a generous enmity, are things that we love, knowing, that between people so opposed, there is a mutual respect and admiration; while, between the imi tated and the imitator, the master and the follower, though there be a seeming bond of union, yet rancour is sure to lurk at the bottom. We hate the French, for no better reason than that. of Goldsmith's old soldier, "because they are all slaves and wear wooden shoes," and this we tell them plainly. And if a Frenchman is ever loveable, it is when he says with Rousseau, "I hate you." Geographical enmity exists between us, and that is one of the most glorious prejudices of man. "Prejudice and justice," says Johnson, t classing them together, "are virtues and excellencies of all times and of all places."

Now, in spite of all the recent palaver of the English press, (and philanthropy in print is ever to be suspected,) John Bull looks upon the Yankees, and is looked upon by them, with an ambiguous sort of feeling, that can by no means be called love. "Tarnationed Tories" as we are, we look with \all the vanity of self-importance down upon our quondam sons; and it is as well to tell them this flatly with English frankness, as to dissemble for a time, and then let it burst forth,-a black flood of long-retained spleen.— Let us thoroughly understand each other. And Jonathan, who has English blood in his veins, and English sense in his noddle, will stretch out more readily his honest fist to us, who tell him plainly the mingled way in which we regard him, than to the complacent, milk-and-water, how-d'ye-do sort of a fellow, that humbly canvasses a bow from him, and solicits the honour of his friendship and acquaintance.

Lord Byron has declared Ali Pasha to be the civillest gentleman of his acquaintance: we can believe this, for, from his writings, his Lordship does not appear to have been in the habit

of keeping very polite company. But when Mr Campbell asserts the superior coolness and self-possession of his American friends, we think we behold one of them exclaiming, in the language of the caricature, "Oh, Mr Flanagan, you flatter me." The Yankees appear to us a testy and quarrelsome race, and we like them the better for it; they shew young blood, and swagger becoming a nation in its teens. Nevertheless we wish, for their own sakes, that they would somewhat amend of these propensities; inasmuch as they savour more of national vanity than of national pride, and betray (we allude chiefly to the quarrels at Gibraltar,) more a want of confidence in their own dignity, than any genuine and soundnerved sensitiveness of insult. As to their national manners, we do not believe half of what we hear; nor can we credit the account of their ladies hanging their legs out of the window in hot weather, any more than Mr Nodier's slanders concerning the Glasgow belles. But this we will assert, that in Philadelphia and other towns frequented by the French exiles, society has rapidly degenerated, both in morals and in manners, from its pure English origin; and that by taking, or attempting to take, the ton from these upstart mousquetaires, American high-life unfortunately unites the vulgarity of English simplicity with the ten-fold vulgarity of French refine

ment.

And now, our Trans-Atlantic friends may lay down this Number, and cease, if they will, to be "readers of Blackwood." Theirs is the loss. We butter no man. And although in nine cases out of ten, we ourselves originate the opinions and talk of the day throughout Britain, as in the present case; yet we are ever found running counter to their extravagance.

The volume before us, containing Specimens of American Poets, we had a great mind to abuse, having dipped at first into its poetical samples; but after reading its modest and well-written preface, we found the thing impossible. It terms the body of the work "a Selection from the Works of the most respectable Poets of the country,' and to them, as respectable, we cannot certainly object. One of its commencing passages, though not relating much to the subject proposed, is worthy of being extracted:

"It might have been expected, that on the establishment of a separate dominion, the Americans would have endeavoured to free themselves from the intricate meshes of our English law, and to have substituted a system of intelligible and simple jurisprudence.* The evil consequences of their mistake in neglecting this opportunity, are, however, at length apparent; for, bulky and voluminous as are the records of our own law, the legal authorities of America far exceed them. Up to the period of the Revolution, the decisions of the English Courts are considered as binding authorities, and from that time they are allowed to be quoted as illustrations, though not as authorities. Our legal text-writers also are re-published with regularity, on the other side of the Atlantic," &c.

From every book something may be learned; looking for poetical criticism we find legal information,-and, perhaps, if we ransacked the noddles of some of our young Templars, 'tis likely we should be favoured vice

versa.

The first specimen which is presented to us, is "The Airs of Palestine," by John Pierpoint, Esq. The poet is a follower of Campbell's, as the opening passage shews: