doubt, the result of long practice after mature deliberation. We refer the reader to page 50, of the pamphlet now reviewed; where the minute and conflicting incidents of the descent into the pyramid are detailed with absolutely more precision than we have ever known a similar relation detailed with in prose.

In general dexterity and melody of versification the author of Lalla Rookh is unrivalled; but he is by no means at all times accurate, falling occasionally into the common foible of throwing accent upon syllables too unimportant to sustain it. Thus, in the lines which follow, where we have italicized the weak syllables:

And mark 'tis nigh; already the sun bids....

While hark from all the temples a rich swell....

I rushed into the cool night air.

He also too frequently draws out the word Heaven into two syllables-a protraction which it never will support.

His English is now and then objectionable, as, at page 26, where he speaks of

lighted barks

That down Syene's cataract shoots

making shoots rhyme with flutes, below; also, at page 6, and elsewhere, where the word none has improperly a singular, instead of a plural force. But such criticism as this is somewhat captious, for in general he is most highly polished.

At page 27, he has stolen his "woven snow" from the ventum textilem of Apuleius.

At page 8, he either himself has misunderstood the tenets of Epicurus, or wilfully misrepresents them through the voice of Alciphron. We incline to the former idea, however; as the philosophy of that most noble of the sophists is habitually perverted by the moderns. Nothing could be more spiritual and less sensual than the doctrines we so torture into wrong. But we have drawn out this notice at somewhat too great length, and must conclude. In truth, the exceeding beauty of "Alciphron" has bewildered and detained us. We could not point out a poem in any language which, as a whole, greatly excels it. It is far superior to Lalla Rookh. While Moore does not reach, except in rare snatches, the height of the loftiest qualities of some whom we have named, yet he has written finer poems than any, of equal length, by the

greatest of his rivals. Ilis radiance, not always as bright as some flashes from other pens, is yet a radiance of equable glow, whose total amount of light exceeds, by very much, we think, that total amount in the case of any cotemporary writer whatsoever. A vivid fancy; an epigrammatic spirit; a fine taste; vivacity, dexterity, and a musical ear; have made him very easily what he is, the most popular poet now living-if not the most popular that ever lived-and, perhaps, a slight modification at birth of that which phrenologists have agreed to term temperament, might have made him the truest and noblest votary of the muse of any age or clime. As it is, we have only casual glimpses of that mens divinior which is assuredly enshrined within him.

E. P. WHIPPLE AND OTHER CRITICS.

OUR most analytic, if not altogether our best critic, (Mr. Whipple, perhaps, excepted,) is Mr. William A. Jones, author of "The Analyst." How he would write elaborate criticisms I cannot say; but his summary judgments of authors are, in general, discriminative and profound. In fact, his papers on Emerson and on Macaulay, published in “ Arcturus," are better than merely "profound," if we take the word in its now desecrated sense; for they are at once pointed, lucid, and just :—as summaries, leaving nothing to be desired.

Mr. Whipple has less analysis, and far less candor, as his depreciation of "Jane Eyre" will show; but he excels Mr. Jones in sensibility to Beauty, and is thus the better critic of Poetry. I have read nothing finer in its way than his eulogy on Tennyson. I say "eulogy"--for the essay in question is unhappily little more:--and Mr. Whipple's paper on Miss Barrett, was nothing more. He has less discrimination than Mr. Jones, and a more obtuse sense of the critical office. In fact, he has been infected with that unmeaning and transparent heresy-the cant of critical. Boswellism, by dint of which we are to shut our eyes tightly to all autorial blemishes, and open them, like owls, to all autoriał merits. Papers thus composed may be good in their way, just

as an impertinent cicerone is good in his way; and the way, in either case, may still be a small one.

Boccalini, his "Adertisements from Parnassus," tells us that Zoilus once presented Apollo with a very caustic review of a very admirable poem. The god asked to be shown the beauties of the work; but the critic replied that he troubled himself only about the errors. Hereupon Apollo gave him a sack of unwinnowed wheat-bidding him pick out all the chaff for his pains.

Now this fable does very well as a hit at the critics; but I am by no means sure that the Deity was in the right. The fact is, that the limits of the strict critical duty are grossly misapprehended. We may go so far as to say that, while the critic is permitted to play, at times, the part of the mere commentator-while he is allowed, by way of merely interesting his readers, to put in the fairest light the merits of his author-his legitimate task is still, in pointing out and analyzing defects and showing how the work might have been improved, to aid the general cause of Letters, without undue heed of the individual literary men. Beauty, to be brief, should be considered in the light of an axiom, which, to become at once evident, needs only to be distinctly put. It is not Beauty, if it require to be demonstrated as such-and thus to point out too particularly the merits of a work, is to admit that they are not merits altogether.

When I say that both Mr. Jones and Mr. Whipple are, in some degree, imitators of Macaulay, I have no design that my words should be understood as disparagement. The style and general conduct of Macaulay's critical papers could scarcely be improved. To call his manner "conventional," is to do it gross injustice. The manner of Carlyle is conventional with himself. The style of Emerson is conventional-with himself and Carlyle. The style of Miss Fuller is conventional--with herself and Emerson and Carlyle--that is to say, it is a triple-distilled conventionality:-and by the word "conventionality," as here used, I mean very nearly what, as regards personal conduct, we style "affectation--that is, an assumption of airs or tricks which have no basis in reason or common sense. The quips, quirks, and curt oracularities of the Emersons, Alcots and Fullers, are simply Lily's Euphuisms revived. Very different, indeed, are the peculiarities

of Macaulay. He has his mannerisms; but we see that, by dint of them, he is enabled to accomplish the extremes of unquestionable excellences-the extreme of clearness, of vigor (dependent upon clearness) of grace, and very especially of thoroughness. For his short sentences, for his antitheses, for his modulations, for his climaxes-for everything that he does-a very slight analysis suffices to show a distinct reason. His manner, thus, is simply the perfection of that justifiable rhetoric which has its basis in common sense; and to say that such rhetoric is never called in to the aid of genius, is simply to disparage genius, and by no means to discredit the rhetoric. It is nonsense to assert that the highest genius would not be benefited by attention to its modes of manifestation by availing itself of that Natural Art which it too frequently despises. Is it not evident that the more intrinsically valuable the rough diamond, the more gain accrues to it from polish?

Now, since it would be nearly impossible to vary the rhetoric of Macaulay, in any material degree, without deterioration in the essential particulars of clearness, vigor, etc., those who write after Macaulay have to choose between the two horns of a dilemma: --they must be weak and original, or imitative and strong:— and since imitation in a case of this kind, is merely adherence to Truth and Reason as pointed out by one who feels their value, the author who should forego the advantages of the "imitation" for the mere sake of being erroneously original," n'est pas si sage qu'il croit."

The true course to be pursued by our critics-justly sensible of Macaulay's excellences--is not, however, to be content with tamely following in his footsteps-but to outstrip him in his own patha path not so much his as Nature's. We must not fall into the error of fancying that he is perfect merely because he excels (in point of style) all his British cotemporaries. Some such idea as this seems to have taken possession of Mr. Jones, when he says:

Macaulay's style is admirable--full of color, perfectly clear, free from all obstructions, exactly English, and as pointedly antithetical as possible. We have marked two passages on Southey and Byron, so happy as to defy improvement. The one is a sharp epigrammatic paragraph on Southey's political bias:

Government is to Mr. Southey one of the fine arts. He judges of a theory or a public measure, of a religion, a political party, a peace or a war, as men judge of a picture or a statue, by the effect produced on his imagination. A chain of associations is to him what a chain of reasoning is to other men; and what he calls his opinions are, in fact, merely his tastes.

The other a balanced character of Lord Byron :

In the rank of Lord Byron, in his understanding, in his character, in his very person, there was a strange union of opposite extremes. He was born to all that men covet and admire. But in every one of those eminent advantages which he possessed over others, there was mingled something of misery and debasement. He was sprung from a house, ancient, indeed, and noble, but degraded and impoverished by a series of crimes and follies, which had attained a scandalous publicity. The kinsman whom he succeeded had died poor, and but for merciful judges, would have died upon the gallows. The young peer had great intellectual powers; yet there was an unsound part in his mind. He had naturally a generous and tender heart; but his temper was wayward and irritable. He had a head which statuaries loved to copy, and a foot the deformity of which the beggars in the street mimicked.

Let us now look at the first of these paragraphs. The opening sentence is inaccurate at all points. The word "government" does not give the author's idea with sufficient definitiveness; for the term is more frequently applied to the system by which the affairs of a nation are regulated than to the act of regulating. "The government," we say, for example, "does so and so"meaning those who govern. But Macaulay intends simply the act or acts called "governing," and this word should have been used, as a matter of course. The "Mr." prefixed to "Southey," is superfluous; for no sneer is designed; and, in mistering a wellknown author, we hint that he is not entitled to that exemption which we accord to Homer, Dante, or Shakspeare. "To Mr. Southey" would have been right, had the succeeding words been "government seems one of the fine arts:"-but, as the sentence stands, "With Mr. Southey" is demanded. "Southey," too, being the principal subject of the paragraph, should precede “government," which is mentioned only in its relation to Southey. “One of the fine arts" is pleonastic, since the phrase conveys nothing more than " a fine art" would convey.

97 66

The second sentence is quite as faulty. Here Southey loses his precedence as the subject; and thus the "He" should follow "a theory,' a public measure," etc. By "religion" is meant a "creed:"-this latter word should therefore be used. The conclusion of the sentence is very awkward. Southey is said to judge