more, than nature would mete out. What a difference between the consumption of a Bedouin Arab and an English farmer! Perhaps Mr Malthus has not sufficiently taken notice of this key to some of the phenomena of population. There seems to be no mode of accounting for the well-attested populousness of some nations, but their extreme thrift and temperance. If we may put any faith in the early books of Livy, nearly 200,000 citizens were included in the census soon after the expulsion of the kings, when the territory of Rome was less than Rutlandshire. The book of chronicles bears testimony to the astonishing population of the Hebrews, who united, with the common frugality and temperance of the east, institutions more favourable to agriculture than have commonly existed.In modern Palestine, the sensible Volney gives credit to a population of 40,000 fighting men among the barren mountains of the Druses. This would give 150,000 persons for a district of 110 square leagues, or about 150 for each square mile, which approaches to the populousness of France or England. Volney ascribes this to their liberty ; but free men must eat as well as slaves; and though a bad government will make a fruitful land desert, yet the best cannot turn barrenness into fertility. It is only their frugal style of life, and especially their abstinence from animal food, which can explain it. Poverty then, which puts men upon short allowance, makes the same quantity feed more than if they were at case ; and thus the inequality of property, whatever may be its evils, has a tendency to help forward population, because it stimulates to the production of more, and checks the consumption of what there is." I presume, the good sense contained in this quotation, will recommend it equally to others, as it has done to me, and that I shall need no other apology for its length. The hints it suggests to the English farmer and manufacturer, may be as useful to them and their families as the remark about their too easy acquiescence in privations, may be agreeable. The ingenious author has certainly furnished the materials of the utile and the dulce. will have carried every point, if, by a farther exertion of his ingenuity, he can get them to mix and amalgamate together. He I shall conclude with one general observation, on an author whose style and taste, rather than whose sentiments, I would wish to adopt; that it is the great and leading defect of one of the ablest critical works that has ever appeared in this, or, I believe, any other country or age; that it has a strong, not an intentional, tendeney to make mankind unhappy and discon The mind's taper burns bright, the heart When nectar its magical virtue infuses ; juices, Than what my Lord's butler with water re- Appropriate the stamp which from nature No stanzas when hungry and parched do I Beyond me, if famished, the schoolboy may soar, And hunger and thirst like the grave I abhor. Or, if I attempt it, I find I'm an ass; The poet's fine phrenzy to feel is not mine, When my brain owns the influence of Bac- Then then comes the glow-then Apollo ! HORE CANTABRIGIENSES. No II. I. LINES by WALTER DE MAPES, Arch- Mihi est propositum in taberna mori: Imitated. May my life in a tavern fleet joyous away, With a flask at my lips as my spirits decay; That angels descending to fetch me, may say, "Heaven's blessing on him who thus mois. tens his clay." II. VERSES, by a Young Man of Trinity Col lege, Cambridge, upon being denied by the Dean (along with another scholar) the office of reading grace, on account of the lack of personal comeliness and other qualifications, though they eventually proved, respectively, the Senior Medallist and Se nior Wrangler of their year. Una ibant Juvenes duo Ripam ad flumineam forte; silentium Luctus causa eadem, culpa eadem. Deus Ore; at lingua minus congrua gutturi, Tum, par flebile turturum, Alterno incipiunt cum gemitu. B. "Scelus Ut me tu, Juvenum sancte Pater, vetes R." Sprevisti quoque me; muneris at memor B." At quamvis mihi vox barbara Vandalum, Et multum timeo loqui ;" B. "Quamvis ora magis cardine dissona R." Quamvis me superat ventus et improbus, B." Quamvis me superant Indica tympana, R. "Quamvis me superat pullus avis querens, B. "Non flavens meruit dedecus hoc coma, 2 R. "Nec nos hoc tulimus jure, quia in genis Doctrinam ex liquido fonte Matheseos :" Dum corvi veluti grex alius strepunt.” Imitated. Down to the river's side, Silent and sad of heart, went Gownsmen twain ; In cause of grief they vied, And vied in crime: to pour the flowing strain Ill could their faultering tongue As moan two turtle-doves, they mourn: Against these walls, O Dean, Is mine, that me thus sternly thy behest R." Me, too, thou'st spurn'd; yet, mind ful of my cue, To thee thy priest was true." B. "But though my struggling throat's hoarse tones, alas! Vandal and Goth surpass;" R. "Still as a statue, though I seldom speak, B. "Though harsher than the hinge my Which bears the rusted gate;" R. " Though forced through slender chink, the whistling wind My thin lisp leaves behind;" B." Though Indian gongs, or hammer'd stithy, far R. My voice exceeds in jar;" O digne Tu, qui Socraticus puer Populeis Academus umbris! En ipsa Te quam Granta colit deam "At o beatis edibus exiens Sit musa cordi! Teque sive Patribus annumerat Senatus ; 'Granta, fui studiisque totus!" O may the Muse of sprightliest vein, The scholar and the friend! What elegance, what faith, are thine! To speak thy candid mind! Though me excels the callow chirp- Whom Learning's venerable host ing brood, Whose dam's abroad for food ;" B. " My yellow locks deserved not such a fate, Nor such my halting gait ;" R." Nor this of right my meed, for that my face Is reft of youth's soft grace." B." But me the Samian sage his son shall deem ; And, mute for aye, the stream R. "For me the lyre's sweet strain Their gentlest noblest son might boast Thee Granta's genius tends with care, "O though thou quitt'st this happy spot, Dearest of births and best. Thy God, the Muse, be dear! "Or favouring stars thy footsteps guide 1818.] PRIDE AND VANITY. MR EDITOR, Pride and Vanity. HAVING lately heard a young lady, who is one of your readers, say, that "she thought it very difficult to distinguish between Pride and Vanity," I have sent you this hasty sketch, rather common place perhaps, which may serve in some measure to explain the difference between these two prevailing points of character, should you think it worthy of a place in Blackwood's Magazine. Although Pride and Vanity differ in various respects and degrees, yet certainly it often requires some experience and tact to distinguish between the one and the other. However, the general observation appears to be a good one," that Pride is founded on an estimable action, whereas Vanity may be founded on an action, not only not estimable, but entirely useless, and even highly culpable." be as much, if not more highly grati- 3d, A man of the world who seeks 4th, Were Mr Hogg, when in company with Mr, to be complimented as the undoubted author of the Tales of my Landlord, and were he seemingly to swallow the compliment, his acquiescence would proceed from vanity, while Mr would, with all his reserve, feel proud of the praise, especially if it came from a judicious critic. But, I am sorry to remark, that there are people whose vanity leads them a step still farther, and who unblushingly endeavour to palm upon their friends and neighbours literary productions as their own, from which they have no merit, and in which they have, indeed, had no hand, other than the employment of their right hand, in writing out a fair copy. This is vanity combined with lying and stealingbut, like murder, seldom escapes detection, and from its odious meanness and turpitude, deserves (next to boasting of favours from the fair sex) the most severe reprobation. I could be more pointed and particular, but have no doubt that the remark as it stands will find a ready application. Another general distinction between Pride and Vanity is this, "that the proud man rests satisfied with the approbation of his own mind, whereas the vain man eagerly courts gratification from the applause of others,"-all which I shall endeavour to exemplify in a manner as practicable as possible. 1st, Should an Astronomer, after a long life spent in severe study, discover a new constellation, he might fairly be proud of his success, though his discovery should not procure him the meed of public applause. Were a votary of that exhilarating sport called coursing, to find a hare more readily than his brother sportsmen in the There are doubtless many other field, and receive their praise for his shades of difference between pride and adroitness, he would probably be as much gratified by the discovery of vanity, which it does not suit my premawkin, as the Astronomer would be sent purpose to exhibit; but the foreby the discovery of the constellation-going truisms may possibly be of some but as there is nothing very estimable, farther than has reference to a tureen of soup, in finding a hare, the sportsman's feeling would be vanity. 2d, Were a beautiful and accomplished woman to overhear the wellmerited praise of her own charms from the lips of an amiable and sensible man, she might, and probably would be proud of the tribute. Were an ugly, vulgar woman, to overhear her fancied perfections praised by a fool, or a puppy, she would, I imagine, VOL. IV. use to shew, at least in part, wherein the distinction rests, and may serve as a sort of familiar illustration to my fair young friend, and also to others, whose practice in such matters may prevail over their theory. It is hoped that this exposition of little pretence will not be considered with an eye of scorn, because, without entering into nice distinctions, an endeavour has been made to render it as plain as I A. B. C. On the Early English Dramatists. ANALYTICAL ESSAYS ON THE EARLY ENGLISH DRAMATISTS. No VI. The Traitor.-SHIRLEY.* "SHIRLEY," says Mr Lambe in his Specimens of the Early English Dramatic Poets," claims a place among the worthies of this period, not so much for any transcendent genius in himself, as that he was the last of a great race; all of whom spoke nearly the same language, and had a set of moral feelings and notions in common. A new language, and quite a new turn of tragic and comic interest came in with the restoration." It is true, that Shirley is excelled by several of his contemporaries in depth of passion, which is the soul of tragedy; but we cannot grant that he is not entitled, on his own peculiar merits, to take his seat among those immortals. shall have an opportunity to speak at We length of his genius, when Mr Gifford's edition of his plays appears; when the world, now little acquainted with their multifarious beauties, will We are not acquainted with any particulars of Shirley's life that are not mentioned in the following passage from "Ellis's Specimens," &c. If any thing farther can be brought to light, it will not escape the research of Mr Gifford. "James Shirley was born in London about 1594, educated at Merchant Taylor's Schools, entered at St John's College, Oxford, and afterwards, having taken no degree, removed to Catharine Hall, Cambridge, (Vid. Bancroft's Epigrams, 4to, 1639, B. I. Ep. 13.) He successively became an English divine, a Popish schoolmaster, and a deservedly celebrated writer of plays, (of which he published 39), from 1629 to 1660. He was patronised by William Duke of Newcastle, (whom he assisted, according to Wood, in the composition of his plays, as well as Ogilby, by notes for his translation), and followed this his patron's fortunes in the wars, till the decline of the royal cause, when he retired obscurely to London. Here he was countenanced by his learned friend T. Stanley, Esq., and during the suppression of the theatres, followed his old trade of school teaching, in which he educated many eminent men. 1660, immediately after the great fire of He died in London, and was interred in the same grave with his second wife, who died the same day, and was supposed, as well as Shirley, to have owed her death to the fright occasioned by that calamity. Besides his plays, he published a volume of poems, 1646, 12mo." [Oct. at once acknowledge that the revival of this great worthy was a work fitting the most acute, accurate, judicious, and learned of the critics and commentators on our dramatic literature. That our readers may be enabled to from oblivion, we shall give them an judge of the value of those treasures which Mr Gifford is about to restore analysis of the tragedy of" The Traitor," and some of its finest passages. from that chronological order which It is for this purpose that we deviate we have hitherto followed; and perhaps our readers will, independently of this, be pleased to meet with specithe execution, than the original but mens of a tragedy more regular in its design, and more uniformly elegant in imperfect dramas of Marlow and Webster. We understand too, that this tragedy is soon to be brought out, with alterations, on the stage of Covent Garden; and from the wellthese alterations are, we hear, intrustknown taste, judgment and genius of the gentleman (Mr Shiel), to whom ed, there can be no doubt that it will be successful. It is called "The Traitor," because Lorenzo, the ruling character, kinsman and favourite of Alexander Duke of Florence, plots the overthrow of his Prince and benefactor. In the second scene, which is written with great elotruly dramatic, the Duke, who has quence and animation, and moreover, received letters unveiling the treachery of Lorenzo, taxes him with his guilt. That arch-traitor repels the charge with crafty indignation, and convinces his credulous kinsman of his innocence. The following lines will serve to show the character of the dialogue : Sir; I must owe the title of a Traitor In some men, to be great; the throng of stars, The rout and common people of the sky, me in Nor common people's rage; and yet, perA state I shall not fear the great one's envy, haps, You may be credulous against me. |