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longer. He evidently has a soul, which can reflect no brightness in the full splendour of St. Peter's, and which can feel no melancholy in the fading glory of the ColisCeulin. Tivoli, the ancient Tibur, was, probably,a deserted city in the time of Augustus, as it was built some hundred years even before the time of Romulus. Horace says, —Mihi non jam regia Roma, S“d vacuum Tibur placct. Mr. S. speaks of Tivoli, as if its pcculiarity consisted in its having once been a splendid city, and not in the classical remembrance of the sweet retirement of Horace, where he spent such merry times with Maccenas; nor in the splendour and magnificence of the villa’s of Lucullus and Adrian. Horace thus speaks of it. Tibur argoeo positum colono, Sit meo: sedes utinam senectar. On the modern Frescatti and the ancient Tusculum our travel!er is wholly silent, though, on its hills was the “Superni villa candens Tusculi, of Horace, and there Cicero enjoyed his “Dies Tusculanos.” We are now fast approaching the end of our journey, having to trace a distance only of one hundred and fifty miles to Naples. Here we have sometimes to move with a slow and solemn step, through the gloomy ranges of sepulchral monuments, overhung with the mists of the camshagna, and sometimes to saunter listlessly along the mellow fields and through the ethereal expanse of the ager Felix. Naples, as a city, has every thing to interest and please the traveller, whether his sight be confused with the moving column of men, which struggles through the Toledo, or whether, as he wanders
along the Chiaia, his eyeireposes on the smooth and quiet surface of its bay, or is elevated by the dark and lofty promontory of Misenum, or brightened by the blazing summit of Vesuvius. If he be a traveller of pleasure, at Naples his whole senses may enjoy the fullest repletion. His eye may forever move through new tracts of delightful vision, in its environs ; his ear may be filled with the softest sounds of Neapolitan musick ; his odour will be in the fragrant breezes from the ager Felix ; and his touch will be in the sweetest state of delectation in the universal contact of the softest and purest atmosphere. If he be a scholar, in its neighbourhood he will find himself in the fairy land of classical poetry; and the ideal regions of ancient romance will now have the visible locality of the Baian coast. He will now ascend the mountain, where Æneas piously placed the bones of his companion Misenus, after his battle with Triton.
“At pins Æneasingenti mole sepulchrum imposuit, suaque arma viro, remumque, tubamque, Monte oreo, qui nunc Misenum ab illo Dicitur, eternumque tenet per secula nomen.”
Having now seen performed the funeral rites of Misenus, he descends the promontory with Eneas, passes the temple of Apollo,” and, in order to consult the Cumaean sibyl,t enters with him her resounding cavern. “At pins Æneas arzes, quibus altus Apollo
Præsidet, horrendaeque procul secreta sibyllz, Antruminimane petit.” Ib.
Having consulted the prophetess, he commences with Æneas his de- ---* The walls of this temple, which stand neaf the entrance of thc cave, are still entire. + The cave of the sibyl is to the eastward of
the lake of Avernus, it may be so with uch difficulty, to the cud o: overhanga C & Cas
or in project seems easier, than that of travels ; and, consequently, every man, who has travelled, thinks he has a right to become author. Most of the requisites of fine writing are, however, here necessary, from the simplest narration to the fulness and splendour of figurative description. The mind must here observe closely, and without prejudice, and we must relate with correctness and elegance. We must be correct concerning facts; and we ought to be elegant on that, which is already elegant. The book, which is now before us, is not only destitute of every such principle and rule, but exlibits to us the most ludicrous and striking carricature of the grace and dignity of a well-formed work. When the turgid answers for the sublime; modern sentimental conceit for natural and unaffected passion ; and hard words for peculiar ideas, the Pennsylvanian will be thought a good writer. We subjoin a few examples of our author's style and manner to prove the impartiality of our remarks. For the clear and perspicuous the following (so crowded with light).
An illuminated cross is suspended in the air, beneath the dome 6f St. Peter's ; when the symbolici refugence creates sublime effects of light and shade, glittering upon the gilded ceiling, running into obscurity in the recesses of the chapels, dying away in the dome, and fading by degrees on the sides of the nave in the weaker and weaker reflections of diagonal radiation. P. 269. v. ii.
A brilliant orange, melting into a peagreen of the most vivid, transparency, was richly irradiated from behind a ridge of mountains upon the distant horizon, empurpled with the fairy tinge of an Italian atmosphere. P.279, vol. ii.
We cannot refrain from extracting the following sinking, mockheroick sentiment.
I saw the sun go down on the crumbling walls of the villa of Adrian—and, at 10 o'clock at night, as I sit in a large room, scantily hung with the scrawls of wandaring travellers, I hear the roar of the Anio, and my windows rattle with a rising blast.—It reminds me, that I am alone—-five thousand miles from my own fireside.—The thought is serious—it stops my rambling pen. P. 248. vol. ii.
But our author does not stand charged merely with having violated the laws of writing ; he is still more criminal by his forgery of words. This is a crime so atrocious, that we can receive no motion for the arrest of judgment, and no petition for the extension of pardon. not words of his own formation, they are indianisms, with which we are not acquainted ; from their length we should take them for the names of Indian roots. “Swamped;” “ insurrectionary ;” “importunacy;” “ romantically;” &c. The laughable application of the following terms brings strongly to our mind the manner of a quack's prescription. “ Sinister ray ;” “cubick cottages;” “transfixed waves;” “spiral protuberances;” “monotony of silence;” “hillocks of the Appenines;” “ rainbow of a nave ;” “inimitable taste of time.” From the advertisement of the book we should be led to think, that Mr. S. was some great political and literary personage, and that he intends again to appear to the p. in letters on England and rance. But we warmly advise the Pennslvanian to retire “to the woodlands of Mr. Hamilton,” his Maecenas, where, “through the loopholes of retreat,” he may see the swollen and dropsical carcass of his work heaped on the funeral pile of corrupt literature,
If the following are
ART. 5. - The life of Samuel Johnson, D. s. the first firesident of King's coldege, Newyork. Containing many interesting anecdotes ; a general view of the state of religion and 1earning in Connecticut, during the Jormer fiart of the last century ; and an account of the institution and rise of Yale college, Connece ticut ; and of King's (now Columbia) college, .Wewyork. By Thomas B. Chandler, D.D. formerly rector of St. John's church, Elizabethtown, M. J. To which is added, an affendix, containing many original letters to Dr. Johnson. New York. Swords, 1805. 12mo, pp. 208.
CALLIMAchUs, the learned librarian of Ptolemy Philadelphus, king of Egypt, considered by all antiquity as the prince of elegiack poets, judged of a book from its size and the number of its pages according to the following rule,which he deemed infallible...that the larger a book, the more nonsense it contained. The author of the work before us, penetrated no doubt with the most perfect conviction of the truth of the opinion of Callimachus, has taken a most commendable precaution, and by making his volume of a very moderate size, discovered great defer: ence for the opinion of the publick. We think that Dr. Chandler deserves no common praise for making the life of Dr. Johnson to consist of only one hundred and fifty-five pages, and the appendix, containing letters to Dr. Johnson from bishop Berkeley, archbishop Secker, bishop Lowth, and others, of fifty-three pages, in these bad times, when the literary world seems to be threatened with being overwhelmed by the number and and size of the volumes which continually issue from the press, called lives, memoirs, the correspondence, &c. &c. of men and women, boys and girls, philosophers and fools. The object of modern biographers seems to be only to make of their heroes giants ; stretching them out, to the very “crack of doom,” over an insufferable number of pages. Such, in fact, has been the daring and extensive manlufacture of books of this kind in England, and such the alarming and inordinate consumption of par per, that an ingenious mechanick, by the name of Neckinger, has lately erected a mill at Camberwell for the refiroduction of this valuable article. Dr. Samuel Johnson was born of respectable parents at Guilford, in Connecticut, the 14th October, 1696. His great-grand-father Robert, came from Kingston upon Hull, in Yorkshire, and was one of the first settlers of New-Haven, about the year 1637, and is said to have been of the same family with Johnson, the associate of Robert Brown, the father of the Brownists. Samuel Johnson, the subject of this memoir, early discovered an unconquerable desire for the acquisition of knowledge, and in his eleventh year was sent to the school at Guilford, to prepare himself for the college then at Saybrook, which he entered at fourteen, and received a degree of bachelor of arts in 1714. In the succeeding year, much discontent was excited among the scholars at the college at Saybrook, in consequence of the ignorance and total incapacity of the governours to afford them any useful instruction,
and the scholars, in rapid succes
sion, abandoned the college. Those, belonging to the towns on Connecticut river, associated under the di
rection of Messrs. Woodbridge and Buckingham, ministers of Hartford, who were trustees of the college, and who, desirous of obtaining a removal of the college from Saybrook to Weathersfield, in their own neighbourhood, induced Messrs. Williams and Smith to establish a collegiate school at Weathersfield, to which the young gentlemen, above alluded to, immediately resorted. Those, who belonged to the towns on the seashore, put themselves under the tuition of Mr. Johnson at Guilford. This academical schism called loudly for legislative interference, and accordingly, when the general court convened in October, 1716, an act was passed for establishing the college in New-Haven, and Mr. Johnson was unanimously chosen one of the tutors, where he resided but a short time. The disaffection of the scholars to their instructers at Saybrook, their consequent dispersion, the dissentions between the two parties at Weathersfield and New-Haven, which occasioned for some time much disturbance in the colony, and the final compromise, which ended in the peaceful establishment of the college at, New-Haven, are minutely detailed by Dr. Chandler, and constitute an interesting part of the work before uS. We have thus seen, at Saybrook, the evils arising in consequence of placing boys under the direction of unskilful, inefficient instructers, the rebellion there excited, and the dissolution of the college. Even in our days we experience the mournful consequences of the insufficiency of the system of education adopted in the much boasted schools, colleges, and academies of N.England. Our school-masters, preceptors, and tutors, are too frequently incompetent to discharge their important duties, fraught with high responsibility. They are of. ten men without manners, and without learning ; who need “put no enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains ;” who, with Othello's drunken lieutenant, will say, this is my right hand, and this is my left. Deeply impressed with the importance of some immediate and radical change in our system of education, particularly as it respects the instructers of the Latin and Greek languages, at our academies and colleges, we cannot, on this subject, here omit inserting the declarations of Gilbert Wakefield, whose observations apply with ten fold more force to this country, than to England ; most sincerely wishing, that the opinions of a man, so distinguished for science and classical learning, may have some effect upon our men of wealth and influence, and persuade them to offer such salaries to teachers of youth as shall induce men of understanding and learning, to undertake what at best must be an ungracious task. “I cannot but lament that inundation of dreadful evils, which are let in upon society by the tribe of unprincipled, or ineffective schoolmasters. The majority of young men, who go to college after finishing their education at school, scarcely know, with tolerable accuracy, even the first rudiments of the languages. “Can imagination represent to herself a more melancholy case, than that of an ingenuous, enterprising youth, wasting his time and blasting his hopes, in a seminary of one of those ignorant, heedless, insipid teachers, with which the kingdom is overrun ? • I have kept my son,’ said the mayor of one of the first towns in this kingdom, “six or seven years with this
fellow K–, learning Latin and Greek all this time ; and, now he is come home, I find him unable to construe a prescription, or explain the inscriptions of the gallipots.” In my humble opinion this enormous usurpation of stupidity and impudence ought to be made a national concern. “To suffer the rising generation to be thus abused beyond all recovery from any future process, what is it but to blot the shring from the year 2 For my own part, I look upon the generality of these preceptors as robbers of hose and of:fortunity, those blessings for which no compensation can be made. I cherish liberty, I think, with a warmth of attachment inferiour to
no man ; but I should rejoice to .
see, I confess, some restrictions in the case before us. Men of acknowledged qualifications should be appointed to examine, with a scrupulous and conscientious accuracy, the competency of all those who undertake the teaching of the learned languages; and none should be allowed to exercise this arduous office, but those who could endure the fiery trial. Society would be benefited beyond measure, and no real injury be done to the individual. Men should learn,or be taught, the knowledge of themselves; nor should he aspire to adorn the mind, who is fit only to trim a fieriwig ; or, in the vain attempt of acquiring science, leave uncultivated the capabilities of a commendable shoemaker. All quit their sphere, and rush into the skies.”
In March, 1720, Mr. Johnson was ordained as a congregational minister at West-Haven, in the twenty-fourth year of his age. From early life, even while at college, he had been opposed to extempore prayer. He had also an early dislike to the independent or