laborious drudges in classical crit icism, of their trouble and time! I have often wondered of what materials their brains are composed, who spin out long, wire-drawn arguments, attenuated almost beyond discernment, upon ambiguous passages of the ancients, which, if settled, would give us no new light concerning their morals, their learning, or their taste. It is eequally wonderful that scholars should spend sleepless nights in deciding upon a reading, which in the end is still conjectural, and ransack authorities without number to justify themselves to the criticks. I have always suspected,' says Johnson, that the reading is right, which requires many words to prove it wrong; and the emendation wrong, which requires many words to prove it right.' He indeed deserves praise, who, by the introduction of a reading, plausible in itself, and supported by sufficient authorities, sheds meaning on a passage, before ambiguous or unintelligible. But we have fallen upon ungrateful times, if that which we consider the learned lumber of scholiasts and commentators on the ancients, is really, in general, any thing better than a cumbrous mass of quibbling jargon, which deforms every thing beautiful in poetry, and distorts every thing fair in morals. Shakespeare and Milton also have had their annotators. It requires no great sagacity to discern the needless prolixity of the commentaries on the former, and it implies no malignity to estimate at a small value the notes of Bentley on the latter. I would not proscribe commentators, but I would abridge their liberty. They should not be suffered to darken what is luminous, nor to mar that which is beautiful. They should have disVol. IV. No. 11.

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crimination enough to distinguish between what is important and what is trifling; so as neither to overlook the former, nor magnify the latter. They should be able so far to repress their vanity, as to elucidate the meaning of their author, instead of displaying the learning of the critick; and should avoid those endless references to parallel passages,which often seem such from their own acquired ob liquity.

FACILITY OF COMPOSITION.

Quand on est bien pénétré d'une idée, quand un esprit juste et plein de chaleur possede bien sa pensée, elle sort de son cerveau tout ornée des expressions convenable, comme Minerva sortit tout armée du cerveau de Jupiter. The simile of Voltaire is extremely beautiful; and as the thought, which it illustrates, is supported by the authority of Horace, I am almost afraid to question its accuracy. I am not poet enough to venture to doubt them, if they mean to speak merely of their own art, though even in poetry, if we allow Gray and Cowper to be fair examples, or if we draw an inference from the erasures, corrections, and interlineations, which we see in the specimens of the papers of Pope, preserved by Johnson, we should conclude that the proposition is at least not universal. Nor is its consistency very apparent with the direction of Horace himself with regard to a poem, nonum prema tur in annum. I have never observed the principle to be true, except when I have seen a man's personal feelings strongly excited. Then indeed the matter, equally with the expression, presents itself without effort, and the 'thoughts that breathe, as well as the words that burn,' flow from the mind in

uninterrupted and spontaneous profusion. Every writer too has sometimes his moments of inspiration, when his thoughts are teeming and bright, and his expressions ready and brilliant; and then perhaps he may produce passages without labour, which no labour can improve.' But these happy phases of the mind are usually transitory and rare, and when most men sit down coolly and doggedly to compose from the understanding alone, even though they have well meditated their subject, it is usually found, that composition, in order to be correct, must be slow and toilsome; and I am afraid that there are few of us, who have not occasionally felt the horrours of pangs without birth and fruitless industry.'

ALBUMS AND THE ALPS.

You find in some of the rudest passes in the Alps homely inns, which publick beneficence has erected for the convenience of the weary and benighted traveller. In most of these inns albums are kept to record the names of those, whose curiosity has led them into these regions of barrenness, and the album is not unfrequently the only book in the house. In the album of the Grand Chartreuse, Gray, on his way to Geneva, recorded his deathless name, and left that exquisite Latin ode, beginning O! tu severi religio loci'; an 'ode which is indeed pure nectar.' It is curious to observe in these books the differences of national character. The Englishman usually writes his name only, without explanation or comment. Frenchman records something of his feelings, destination, or business; commonly adding a line of poetry, an epigram, or some exclamation of pleasure or disgust.

The

The German leaves a long disser tation upon the state of the roads, the accommodations, &c. detailing at full length whence he came, and whither he is going, through long pages of crabbed writing.

In one of the highest regions of the Swiss Alps, after a day of excessive labour in reaching the summit of our journey, near those thrones erected ages ago for the majesty of nature, we stopped, fatigued and dispirited, on a spot destined to eternal barrenness, where we found one of these rude but hospitable inns open to receive us. There was not another human habitation within many miles. All the soil, which we could see, had been brought thither, and placed carefully round the cottage to nourish a few cabbages and lettuces. There were some goats, which supplied the cottagers with milk; a few fowls lived in the house; and the greatest luxuries of the place were new-made cheeses, and some wild alpine mutton, the rare provision for the traveller. Yet here nature had thrown off the veil, and appeared in all her sublimity. Summits of bare granite rose all around us. The snow-clad tops of distant Alps seemed to chill the moon-beams, that lighted on them; and we felt all the charms of the picturesque, mingled with the awe inspired by unchangeable grandeur. We seemed to have reached the original elevations of the globe, o'ertopping forever the tumults, the vices, and the miseries of ordinary existence, far out of the hearing of the murmurs of a busy world, which discord ravages and luxury corrupts. We asked for the Album, and a large folio was brought us, almost filled with the scrawls of every nation on earth, that could write. Instantly our fatigue was

I solitary court

b.

Th' inspiring breeze, and meditate the book

Of nature, ever open; aiming thence Warm from the heart to learn the moral song.

Persons of reflection and sensibility contemplate with interest the scenes of nature. The changes of the year impart a colour and character to their thoughts and feelings. When the seasons walk their round, when the earth buds, the corn ripens, and the leaf falls, not only are the senses impressed, but the mind is instructed; the heart is touched with sentiment, the fancy amused with visions. To a lover of nature and of wisdom the vicissitude of seasons conveys a proof and exhibition of the wise and benevolent contrivance of the author of all things. When suffering the inconveniences of the ruder parts of the year, we may be tempted to wonder why this rotation is necessary; why we could not be constantly gratified with vernal bloom and fragrance, or summer beauty and profusion. We imagine that in a world of our

creation, there would always be a blessing in the air, and flowers and fruits on the earth. The chilling blast and driving snow, the desolated field, withered foliage, and naked tree, should make no part of the scenery, which we would produce. A little thought, however, is sufficient to show the folly if not impiety of such distrust in the appointments of the great Creator. The succession and contrast of the seasons give scope to that care and foresight, diligence and industry, which are essential to the dignity and enjoyment of human beings, whose happiness is connected with the exertion of their faculties. With our present constitution and state, in which impressions on the senses enter so much into the sum of our pleasures and pains, and the vivacity of our sensations is affected by comparison, the uniformity and continuance of a perpetual spring would greatly impair its pleasing effect upon the feelings. present distribution of the several parts of the year is evidently con nected with the welfare of the whole, and the production of the greatest sum of being and enjoy. ment. That motion of the earth, and change of place in the sun, which cause one region of the globe to be consigned to cold, decay, and barrenness, impart to another heat and life, fertility and beauty. Whilst in one climate the earth is bound with frost, and the chilly smothering snows' are falling, the inhabitants of another behold the earth, first planted with vegetation and apparelled in ver dure, and those of a third are rejoicing in the appointed weeks of harvest.' Each season comes attended with its benefits, and beauties, and pleasures. All are sen sible to the charms of spring.

The

Then the senses are delighted with the feast,that is furnished in every field and on every hill. The eye is sweetly delayed on every object, to which it turns. It is grateful to perceive how wildly yet chastely nature hath mixed her colours and painted her robe; how bountifully she hath scattered her blossoms and flung her odours. We listen with joy to the melody she hath awakened in the groves, and catch health from the pure and tepid gales that blow from the mountains. When the summer exhibits the whole force of active nature, and shines in full beauty and splendour; when the succeeding season offers its purple stores and golden grain,' or displays its blended and softened tints; when the winter puts on its sullen aspect, and brings stillness and repose, affording a respite from the labours, which have occupied the preceding months, inviting us to reflection, and compensating the want of attractions abroad by fireside delights and home-felt joys; in all this interchange and variety we find reason to acknowledge the wise and benevolent care of the God of seasons. We are passing from the finer to the ruder portion of the year. The sun emits a fainter beam, and the sky is frequently overcast. The gardens and fields have become a waste, and the forests have shed their verdant honours. The hills are no more enlivened with the bleat ing of flocks, and the woodland no longer resounds with the song of birds. In these changes, we see emblems of our instability, and im ages of our transitory state. So flourishes and fades majestick man

Our life is compared to a falling leaf. When we are disposed to count on protracted years, to defer

any serious thoughts of futurity, and to extend our plans through a long succession of seasons; the spectacle of the fading many-coloured woods,' and the naked trees affords a salutary admonition of our frailty. It should teach us to fill the short year of life, or that portion of it which may be allotted us, with useful employments and harmless pleasures; to practice that industry, activity, and order, which the course of the natural world is constantly preaching. Let not the passions blight the intellect in the spring of its advancement; nor indolence nor vice canker the promise of the heart in the blossom. Then shall the summer of life be adorned with moral beauty; the autumn yield a harvest of wisdom and virtue; and the winter of age be cheered by pleasing reflections on the past, and bright hopes of the future.

MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTLAND.

IN the present state of science and literature, it is justly expected that they who are designed for the ministry in our religious societies should be initiated in every branch of sound and polite learning, that they may enter the world qualified not only to discharge with ability their ministerial duties, but in many cases to be the instructors of our youth, and to support by their acquirements and character the respectability of the dissenting name. With such views the plan of study pursued in this institution has been arranged. It compre hends a term of five years; during the first three of which the student proceeds through a full course of mathematicks and natural philosophy, is daily employed in reading some of the best classical authors, and is directed and assisted in an extensive investigation of ancient and modern history. In the course of this period, he is likewise instructed in logick, and the philosophy of the human mind; in ethicks, including jurisprudence and general policy; in the evidences of natural and revealed religion; in universal grammar, oratory and criticism, and other branches of what are usually called, the Belles Lettres. And as the foundation of just scripture criticism must be laid in an acquaintance with some, at least, of the oriental languages, the student, in this part of the course, is taught the Hebrew, the Chaldee, and the Syriac. Thus prepared, he enters on his theolo gical studies, to which the last two years of his course are devo ted. After some introductory in struction concerning the general principles of sacred criticism, and

the aids to which a theological student should have recourse, he proceeds in regular order through every book of the old and new testament, paying at the same time particular attention to the language of the Septuagint, and the writings of Josephus and Philo. Having thus traced the history of revealed religion, and from the records of revelation alone endeavoured to learn the doctrines proposed in them to the acceptance of mankind, he passes to the history of the christian church, having his attention particularly directed to the rise, progress, and character of the principal religious systems which have prevailed in the christian world; to the origin of our separation from the established church, and to the grounds upon which a continued separation is vindicated. He is also now introduced to some general acquaintance with those writings and opinions,which, by nations not owning the christian name, are considered as sacred.-Through the whole of the course he is exercised in Latin and English composi tion on the subjects connected with the studies he is at the time pursuing, and in the last two years in the composition of sermons and other pulpit exercises, and receives instructions in the pastoral care.

Such is an imperfect outline of the plan, which has hitherto been kept in view, and pursued with as much regularity as circumstances would permit. And although the excellent maxim of Dr. Jebb, that "the personal labours of the student are of greater efficacy than the oral instructions of the tutor," is constantly acted upon; yet it