any man of taste and cultivated mind receives from such a view, consist? In a contemplation of beautiful colours merely, or of strait and curve lines? Surely not. This, indeed, is the pleasure of the eye; but the higher delight is of the mind. Every such scene suggests to the poet and the scholar ten thousand sweet and romantic associations, of which the peasant knows nothing. We have, elsewhere, spoken at large on this subject;* and as to the matter of fact, we refer our readers to an article in our last number. We may just add, that so far as we have observed, the external source of a peasant's pleasure is--not an extended landscape-but his own little garden. And the reason is obvious; it is with this that the pleasant associations of his mind are connected; here he employs the few leisure hours of his summer evening, with his little ones perhaps toddling about him; here he drinks tea with his family on a holyday; here his better feelings are called forth, and here they centre.

The operations of the mind in sleep have never yet been explained in the manner the least satisfactory.' vol. i. p. 136.

Is the author acquainted with the theory of Professor Stewart? We shall not, however, enter into the subject at present, as we hope shortly to have another opportunity of bringing it at length before our readers.

He flies [a modern reader] from the amusing detail, and interesting naiveté of Lord Berners, and the copious particulars of Holinshead, to the vapid translations of Voltaire, and the more light and airy pages of Hume.' vol. i. p. 141.

We trust that we have never given our sanction to the principles of such men as Voltaire and Hume by an immoderate praise of their literary merits, or by any praise unaccompanied with an avowed detestation of those principles. But it is impossible to pass over such a sentence as this. The vapid translations of Voltaire!' That these vapid translations' are among the most interesting abridgements of history, we have never yet heard denied. The narrative is lively and unencumbered, and the reflections are acute and philosophical. Even as to his historical accuracy, let us hear what such a judge as Robertson says. If he had mentioned the books, from which he draws his particulars, many of his readers, who now consider him only as an entertaining and lively writer, would find that he is a learned and wellinformed historian.' As to the light and airy pages of Hume,'

*In our review of Essays on the Pleasures arising from Literary composition,' and in other places.

The Ruminator.

we confess that they are not burthened with an endless detail, of tournaments and battles and chamber-intrigues; but if civil wisdom he of sterling weight, if a thorough knowledge of the philosophy of politics and political economy be of any avail in the balance, if one fact stated to the purpose, and traced to its source and in its consequences, outweigh a score of isolated and unimportant ones, then, we presume, the pages of Hume are not altogether light and airy.'

6

Literary merit should always be considered apart from theological orthodoxy. These miserable men, ignorant, and wilfully ignorant of what pertained to their everlasting good, did yet possess both intellect and taste; and what purpose does it answer to deny it? Shall truth be defended by falsehood?

Essay 25, is on a curious and very important subject,'how far history is true;' but we cannot say that the author has written very satisfactorily upon it. Grand matters of fact, which exert their influence over all nations, and which are obvious to every one's observation, can scarcely fail of being accurately handed down to posterity: but, when we consider how difficult it is, in many cases, to get at the real naked fact; and yet how eager people are to learn what they do not know, and how eager to publish whatever they do know; how utterly careless many are of the truth of what they relate; how many misunderstand, and how many misrepresent; how often the most important circumstances are let slip by the memory, and how often little touches are to be laid on by the fancy, to make a story and to produce an effect; how different the same thing appears when viewed through the media of different interests and passions:-when all these things are considered, we confess that we are inclined to be somewhat merciful to the historical sceptic. Characters the author considers as liable to little doubt. The character even We are of a quite contrary opinion. of common individuals, is not always to be judged of by actions; still less that of princes and of the great, who act through a great number of intermediate agents, and perhaps never learn the result of their commands. But, says the author, characters handed down to us by contemporary historians of different sentiments do yet agree in the general form and lineaments. This we deny: surely a person who had formed. his opinions of Knox and Luther, from the authentic documents brought forward by McCrie and Milner, would differ considerably from one who had derived his sentiments from less careful historians. The truth is, no one is likely to draw a pharacter accurately who is not personally acquainted with the

man he pourtrays, and no one is likely to draw it impartially

who is.

There is a good deal of poetry, written by the author and his friends, scattered through the volumes, more especially in the shape of sonnets; a good deal of quotation too from some of our older writers. In general, however, neither the one nor the other, is well qualified for relieving the heaviness of the work.

Art. V.-The Life of Nelson. By Robert Southey. In two volumes, 12mo. pp. 254 and 276. Price 10s. 1813. Murray.

IN every art and science, in every pursuit and profession of life, in which glory may be won by intellectual superiority, there have been a few names so illustrious, that their pre-eminence is universally acknowledged. Homer and Virgil in poetry, Demosthenes and Cicero in eloquence, Alexander and Cæsar in arms, stand unrivalled in antiquity. In every country, likewise, where honour is sought by excelling those who themselves excel,. there has been a warrior, a philosopher, a poet, or an artist, to whom contemporaries and posterity, without grudging or disagreement, concede the palm of superiority. Thus among all the painters of Italy, Raphael,—and among all the sculptors, Michael Angelo,-are distinguished. Among the dramatists of England, Shakspeare,--and among the poets, Milton--claim undisputed priority. Though all that engage in the lists of fame may contend for the noblest prize, a single candidate obtains it; and when the strife is over, there are few even among the ablest competitors, who remain dissatisfied with the award of the public. The highest place is the point of a pyramid, which allows a pedestal but for one; the contention is chiefly for the stations below, where the steps broaden as they graduate downwards, and give room for more and more rivals to range abreast, till the scale ends at the base, round which the multitude of the unambitious live and die in oblivion, some admiring, others envying, the majority unheeding, the aspirers above them. K therefore happens, that while the most exalted rank among the great ones of the earth, is easily settled, historians and crities are infinitely at variance in their decisions respecting the precedence of those who are entitled to secondary or inferior stations. England, the daughter of the sea, has been the mother of many sons, who have displayed invincible prowess on her peculiar element. Who then has been the greatest British Admiral?— Palmam qui meruit ferut! This was the motto given to Nelson by the King of England, and let him bear the palm till

another conquers it from him. Whether we consider the multitude, the variety, or the extent of his services, with regard to their glory, their difficulty, their hazards, and their decisive consequences;-his personal merits, undaunted courage, inflexible perseverance, unwearied exertion; or his nautical skill, his military experience, his diplomatic energy, which negotiated with the same impetuosity with which he fought, and made peace in the same spirit he made war;-but above all, that transcendant quickness of mind, which enabled him to see and secure every accident of advantage that crossed him in his swiftest career of premeditated action; an instinct of prophetic feeling by which he could seize a moment in its flight, and fix it in perpetuity-a moment which being improved became immortal:-such was the moment at the battle of Copenhagen, when he sent a flag of truce into the capital, offering, instead of asking, a cessation of hostilities:-but we have lost ourselves amidst the blaze, which the very sparks of his splendid qualifications have kindled, while we were endeavouring barely to enumerate them; we must, therefore, sum up the sentence, by saying, that in all these splendid qualifications combined, Nelson has never been equalled; nor perhaps, in any of them separately considered, was he ever excelled. It would be far more difficult to place the next below him, than to maintain his title to that rank above the rest, which the majority of his countrymen have already awarded him, and which we are persuaded posterity will unanimously ratify: but for the second dignity among British admirals, both the dead and the living, from Drake to St. Vincent, might contend, and each have a host of champions to support his pretensions.

Of all the labours of man, in peace or in war, for commerce or for conquest, navigation is the hardest and the most perilous. Confined to that floating prison, a ship, yet free, as the bird in the sky, to rove over all the globe, the seaman is at once more straitened and more at large, more subject to adverse changes, and more at liberty to choose his way, than the traveller by land: there are no mountains, inclosures, or barriers on the deep; the adventurer is invited to pursue his course in any direction over one illimitable plain; yet every moment he is at the mercy of irresistible power, above and around him, to thwart his purpose, or to destroy his hope: the vessel, that has circumnavigated the world, may be wrecked on its return into the harbour from which it sailed. The services of an admiral are proportionably more hazardous, and his plans less certain of accomplishment, than those of a general. Hardships, anxieties, delays, disappointments, neither encountered nor imagined on shore, continually, beset him. A general easily learns where his enemy is in the field, he can calculate when to meet him, or if necessary how to shun him, having nothing to fear from a more formidable enemy

in the wind, or in a deceitful element beneath him, to suspend his march by a calm, or to overwhelm it in a storm. If his adversary flees, he tracks him by spoils left behind; every foot that he advances is a step of possession, and the soil on which he has trodden, can only be wrested from him by superior force. On the sea there are no fortresses; there are no provinces to be conquered and retained; a flying enemy leaves to his pursuer only the common highway of nations, of which no part can be sequestered, or appropriated; nay, from the very next degree of latitude, the fugitive may double upon his course, and return to the station from which he was driven, while his antagonist continues his chase to the antipodes. An admiral is perpetually exposed to mischances; he may lay out his whole strength to secure fortune, yet a cloud may conceal, or a breeze bear ber away, and another opportunity of achieving renown, never recur in a long life of watching and toil. The sovereignty of the sea is the proudest boast of man, and it is the vainest. The Romans could never subdue Britain, though they exercised dominion in the island; and Britain will never be able to subdue the sea, though she seems to rule the waves.' A fleet in motion seems a shoal of living creatures exulting on the surface of the brine; and the separate vessels, propelled by the invisible gale, and guided in one course, appear spontaneously consorting together in magnificent array: and implicitly obedient to his will, the Commander beholding them, feels himself invincible : at the signal of his flag, they steer northward or eastward, approach more closely, and sail in phalanx, or disperse more widely, and stud the whole horizon of waters. But suddenly, as if spirits possessed the air and the deep, from no cause that the eye can discover, the clouds gather into blackness, and the floods swell into fry; the charm that looked like life, and bound the fleet together, is broken; the authority of the Commander is gone; the vessels are scattered, or dashed one against another; every ship that before seemed an active being, moved by an impulse within itself, becomes a passive burthen on the waves, and is hurried precipitately before the tempest. The dispersion of Admiral Christian's fleet, which had been destined for the West Indies, early in the last war, affords a melancholy example of those tremendous dangers to which the oceanwarrior is exposed, and in which skill, courage, labour, and perseverance, are unavailing against swift and irresistible destruction.

But the life of an admiral is frequently a life of weariness and inactivity, though occasionally of almost supernatural energy and exertion. He is an absolute sovereign in the fleet; the lives of all that sail with him are in his keeping. He must maintain the most unrelaxing strictness, if not severity of disci