fection in any individual branch of science, by this happiest of modern inventions, may be said figuratively to be prolonged.

Most of the flowers which compose this little volume, entitled the Garland, have already been taansplanted into English verse, and we must say by more skilful bands. Some of them have received the labours of great and learned competitors for the poetick laurel. Those which now first appear in English are not indebted to Mr. Walpole for any thing beyond the smoothness of their versification; perhaps little more should be looked for, as the work is professedly (ridiculous affectation!) the "result of employment in hours of relaxation from other literary pursuits," intended merely as "an exercise to become more intimately acquainted with the language of the originals," and as such cannot be a subject of serious criticism. Doubtless the work was published at the earnest solicitation of Mr. Walpole's friends. Isabel, from the Spanish, is perhaps the best specimen of the writer's ability; the first stanza is peculiarly happy; "corrientes aguas puras cristallinas," &c.

'Ye crystal floods, that lave With gently murmuring wave These banks, where spring its earliest sweets exhales;

Ye lofty shades that show Within the stream below Your broad bows bending to the whispering gales.'

Nor is the fourth inferiour to this in point of harmony.

And is all fled, like dreams That fade before morn's beams?

Sanctius, and the English versification is very rough. Perhaps there is not a softer poet in the Spanish language than Garcilaso de Vega; there is none who has so enriched the poetry of his country.

The Morgenlied, from the German of Gesner, is also a beautiful little poem, and we will not say it is here" shorn of its beams."

The sonnet from the Sicilian of Meli nearly resembles the fourteenth canzone of Petrarch, so of ten and so beautifully translated, that it is wonderful Mr. W. should have attempted it "in his hours of relaxation."

We wish with the translator, that he "had not been prevented by want of time from selecting the originals" from the various authors he has undertaken to translate. It would have been more satisfactory to the reader, and perhaps more favourable to the translator, to have presented the readings of those editions he has used. In a work, where recurrence must be had to so many authors of different languages to test the translator's fidelity, this is still more ne cessary. But we are sensible,that in most translations, like the little volume in review, "time is always wanted to collect the originals."

ART. 8.

Annals of the life of the Right Hon. William Pitt. Philadelphia, B. Graves, for Hugh Maxwell, &c. 12mo. pp. 138.

THIS work has been for some months before the American pub lic. It issued from the English.

charm require,' &c.

The fifteenth reads very differently in the edition of the learned

illustrious personage of whom it professes to be a biography; was republished in Philadelphia with extraordinary celerity, and has am->

knowledge Mr. Pitt acquired under the care of a private tutor at Burton Pynsent, the seat of his father; and the Earl took pleasure in teaching him, while still a youth, to argue with logical precision, and to speak with elegance and force. He accustomed him to the practice of making accurate enquiries respecting every subject that caught his attention, and taught him not to remain satisfied with a superficial observation of appearances. These lessons brought him into an early practice of cool and patient investigation, rarely, if ever, acquired by those who prefer the trappings of eloquence, and the showy ornaments of language, to plain sober diction, and pertinent matter of fact. Under such an able paternal guide, an acute mind could not fail to imbibe a store of sound practical knowledge. The Earl saw in his son, a future statesman, and, in all probability, a future minister of his country also. It was a laudable ambition, and to gratify it he spared no exertions; directing his whole attention to the great object of rendering his son accomplished in all things requisite to form a publick character, and to preserve the lustre already attached to the name of William Pitt. He, himself, frequently entered into disputations with him, and encouraged him to converse with others, upon subjects far above what could be expected from his years. In the management of these arguments, his father would never cease to press him with difficulties: nor would he permit him to stop, till the subject of contention was completely exhausted. By being inured to this method, the son acquired that quality which is of the first consequence in publick life....a sufficient degree of firmness and presence of mind, as well as a ready delivery, in which he was wonderfully aided both by nature and education. That he might enjoy all the benefits of instruction which this country could give him, and at the same time, by a rapid progress in the preliminary studies, qualify himself early for the senate, he was, at between fourteen and Afteen years of age, taken from under the private tuition of the Rev. Mr. Wilson, and entered at Pembroke hall, Cam-, bridge, where he was placed under the tuition of Dr. Turner, now dean of Norwich, and Dr. Pretyman, the present bishop of Lincoln; who, in the dedVol. IV. No. 2. 0

ication of his excellent elementary work on Christian Theology, has, in terms of very affectionate regard, borne the most honorable testimony, not only to the promising abilities, but to the private virtues and amiable dispositions of his illustrious pupil. Mr. Pitt was after wards entered a student of Lincoln's Inn, and made so rapid a progress in his legal studies, as to be soon called to the bar, with every prospect of suc cess. He once or twice went upon the western circuit, and appeared as junior counsel in several causes. On the dissolution of Parliament in September, 1780, Mr. Pitt was returned for a borough, at the age of 22.

From this era of his political birth until the year of his death, we lose sight of Mr. Pitt (at least in the pages of the annalist) and behold only the politician and the premier. It is not our wish to detain the reader, or swell our review with giving extracts from extracts; but we will content ourselves with referring him to the newspapers of the last eighteen years for specimens of the matter and style of the remainder of the volume. As we have however quoted the first page, we will also quote the fast, and, in so doing, believe we have given all, which has any claim to originality :

During the early part of the year, the greatest efforts had been used by the British government to awaken the continental powers to a just sense of their own honour and of the dangers that awaited them from the enormous power of France, and to induce the three great princes to make common cause with this country. Bonaparte in the meanwhile was increasing his preparations for invasion, and they were so nearly matured, that the attempt was expected to be made every day, when the French troops were suddenly marched from Bologne to Germany. A coalition had indeed been formed, and upon a scale of such magnitude, that ministers, with reason, hoped a most successful issue. The precipitancy and fatal errors of the Austrins are known, and the consequent defeat

of the coalesced monarchs by the disgraceful capitulation of Ulm, and the victory of Austerlitz, which enabled Bonaparte to dictate peace to the emperor of Germany, to compel the em peror of Russia to march his a: my back to his own dominions, and to new-model the territories and governments of the German princes. The depression which events so calamitous, and so entirely beyond the ordinary occurrences of war, produced in England, was great and general. The nation could scarcely be roused by the glorions battle of Tra falgar. Mr. Pitt, whose health had long been declining under the fatigues of never-ceasing attention to the affairs of his country, sunk beneath the calamity. He had been to Bath for the benefit of the waters, and had returned to London for the purpose of attending the meeting of parliament, when his disorder increased to an alarming degree. It was an hereditary gout, attended with extreme weakness brought on by a too anxious attention to busi

ness.

His nervous system was so shattered as to deprive him for weeks to gether of sleep. Water in the chest, and extraordinary debility of the stomach, supervened. On Tuesday, the 21st of January, 1806, his disorder was so aggravated, that all expectation was at an end. It became necesary for his physicians to declare an opinion, and that Mr. Pitt himself should be made acquainted with his imminent danger. The bishop of Lincoln, his tutor and friend, who had constantly attended him, fulfilled the painful office with firmness. Mr. Pitt was hardly sensible

this dreaded shock had scarcely power to dissipate his lethargy; but after a few moments he waved his hand, and was left alone with the bishop. He had desired that some papers should be brought to him, to which his signature was necessary; and after he had settled all worldly concerns, he desired to receive the sacrament from his venerable friend, and it was accordingly administered. Some time passed in the solemn duties of religion. His will was made in a calm interval between this time and the following day. He had signified a desire to write a few lines, but his exhausted condition. deprived him of the power. The physicians now thought proper to discontinue medicine. During the morning of Wednesday repeated inquiries were,

made after him, and a statement of his danger was transmitted to his majesty, to his relations, and most of his friends; lady Hester Stanhope, his neice, and Mr. James Stanhope had an interview with him on Wednesday morning, and received his last adieu; his brother, the earl of Chatham, took his last fare. wel in the afternoon. The bishop of Lincoln continued with him all night. The mortal symptoms were now ap proaching to a crisis. His extremities were already cold, and his senses began to fail. As a last and desperate effort to protract life, blisters were applied to the soals of his feet; they re stored him to something of sensation, and recollection, but they could arrest nothing of the progress of death. It is said that he continued clear and com. posed till a short time before his dissolution, which took place without a struggle, at half past four on the Thursday morning, and the last words that trembled on his lips were "OH MY COUNTRY."

We feel unwilling to dismiss this volume, without bestowing on it some signal marks of our unqualified censure, We would wish, with censorial justice, to gibbet it, in terrour to those writers, "who make books, as apothecaries make medicines, by pouring from one vessel into another." But its subject has saved it the medal intrinsically is worthless, but the image and superscription are divine; nor could we, without scruple, assign, to the cook or the trunkmaker, those pages which are sanctified by the magnum et venerabile nomen of William Pitt.

ART. 9.

Letters on the existence and character of the Deity, and on the moral state of man. By Thomas Dobson. Philadelphia, printed by the author. 2 vols. 12mo.

IN the preface the author laments the general want of scriptural knowledge among young

men, and informs us that these letters "were designed as materials or hint for thinking, and are pubHished with an earnest desire of drawing the attention of young persons to the study of those subjects. which are universally important." We were ready to give every degree of credit, and make every allowance that might possibly be required, to a writer who proceeded on such worthy motives; and were much pleased with the perspicuity. of his style, and the clearness with which he evinces the general truths of christianity, in the first part of his work; but hope and confidence were soon displaced by surprise and disappointment, when we found the sole aim, and scope of the whole work, was to revive exploded; heresies, to propagate erroneous opinions,and give to wild unfounded conjectures the semblance of established truth. Such is the tendency of these letters, which exhibit their author as a Pythagorean, a Universalist, and an Anabaptist.

That we should combat the fanciful notion of a metempsichosis, or the doctrines of universal redemption, and the impropriety of baptising infants, is perfectly unnecessary. Orthodox christians, who have been at any pains to examine their faith, and know upon what foundation it stands, are satisfied that these points have been amply discussed by able men, have been long settled, and the rubbish thrown aside by all straight-headed persons, who wish not to be interrupted in the right path, and presume not to be wise above what is written. With respect to the uninformed they can be directed to better sources, from whence to derive more satisfaction than either our time or talents can furnish for them. We will, however, observe that Mr. Dobson, in his translation

of the Greek words and savors, is not authorized by the best lexicographers and commentators. The adjective, in its primary sense, signifies a real and proper eternity, It is an universal rule, in all languages, that words must be taken in their original acceptation, unless there be some concomitant circumstance, exprest or implied, to give them a figurative sense. "The words everlasting, eternal, forever, and the like, (says bishop Newton) are sometimes used in a limited sense, or do not always signify an endless duration. But whenever these words do not signify an endless duration, it is because they are applied to things, which are only of temporary duration, and manifestly and confessedly known to be, such. The sense is limited and. restrained by the nature of the thing.

But when the nature of the thing does not limit and restrain it, the words should certainly be taken in their proper and genuine signification." Newton's Works, vol. 6, p. 353.

Unless Mr. D. can prove, that he understands Greek better than the,ablest divines, who have written on this subject, we shall not feel inclined to adopt his translations.

When an author again intrudes upon the publick, topicks which were once in controversy, but upon which the greatest number of most learned and eminent divines' have clearly decided; there is reason to fear that he can have no other object in view than to in crease the perplexity of those who still doubt, and mislead the weak and wavering, who are easily "blown about by every wind of doctrine ;" for what effect can he expect to produce on men of ability, who, with upright intentions, have examined for themselves ? But, perhaps, he flatters himself