he admitted at last a kindly feeling towards one whom he had laid under an obligation for his life, to expand into the reciprocation of esteem and affection. Jealousy on the part of Cesario for a while disunite them; but on finding that his mistress was unworthy of his regard, and his friend innocent of encouraging that preference which she had immodestly discovered for him, he expiates his injurious suspicions by a pilgrimage to redeem Giovanni from captivity, into which he had been carried by the Moors. In pursuing this aim, Cesario discovers the sister of Giovanni, a widow of nineteen, also in bondage, and wins her love in the garb of a slave. He ransoms the sister and enables the brother to escape. The author leaves him in the anticipation of attaining the summit of human bliss.

A moral is to be drawn from the tale, which is briefly this-that Providence orders all things for the best to those who confide in him without remitting their own exertions, and that what we are apt in the impetuosity of the moment to deem the greatest calamities often prove in the event the happiest occurrences. Of the author's style we can only say that it is bad enough, but not worse than that of her previous productions which have obtained a measure of popularity. We did not read this work for pleasure, and did not derive much pleasure from reading it. It is certainly harmless, and those who can find either information or amusement in it, will not have wasted their time in its perusal.

E.

Inaugural Address, delivered in the Chapel of the University at Cambridge, November 5th, 1817. By Levi Frisbie, A. M. Alford Professor of Natural Religion, Moral Philosophy, and Civil Polity, in Harvard University. Cambridge, University Press. Hilliard and Metcalf, 1817. 8vo. 28 pp.

"The necessity, objects, and influence of moral philosophy," form the subjectmatter of this able and eloquent address. The necessity of a scientific investigation of "the principles and obligations of duty," is vindicated and enforced with great comprehensiveness of view and cogency of argument; the objects of moral science are justly apprehended-and the influence attributable to the cultivation of that science, not only through the medium of systematic lectures and formal precept, but also by means of the various sorts of fiction and history, whether in prose or

poetry, is traced with a fine discernment of moral causes, and exemplified and illustrated with striking beauty of conception and felicity of application.

The following extracts from the address are given, not only as specimens of elegant English composition, highly honourable to the taste and academic discipline of the learned professor, but also as examples of just thinking, not less honourable to his head, and heart.

"It has often been said, the heart is the best casuist, and its natural promptings the safest guides in duty. But in respect to this objection it must be carefully remembered, that we are not to form our estimate of the value of natural conscience from the prevalent opinions of civilized and christian countries. The moral sense of the most unlearned at the present day is not the sense fied by the studies and experience of ages, and, of nature, but of cultivation; it has been modiabove all, by the christian religion. It is not denied, that we have from nature a moral as well as an intellectual capacity; but the former, no less than the latter, is to be improved and enlarged by observation and thought. Many duties arise from relations, which are complicated and remote; these relations must be investigated and brought together, and general principles, which The necessity of this is sufficiently shown by the may be settled into rules, deduced from them. different and contradicting maxims of duty that have prevailed in different ages and nations, Were however the original suggestions of uncul

tivated conscience far clearer and more decisive

than experience will allow us to believe, still the necessity of philosophy would not be superseded. The unremitted labours of the moralist would, notwithstanding, be required to relieve the senti ments of mankind from those associations of prejudice, of fashion, and of false opinion, which have so constant an influence in perverting the judgment and corrupting the heart, and to bring

them back to the unbiassed dictates of nature and common sense. Besides, the moral constitution of man, his relations, and duties, are subjects too lected in the speculations of the ingenious and ininteresting, and too fruitful of remark, to be negquiring. Erroneous theories will be formed, nay, they will be presented to mankind as the rule of life, and even history and fiction be made vehicles of principle, dangerous alike to virtue and to peace. While indeed these speculations of false philosophy are wrapped in metaphysical subtleties, they may excite little alarm, and serve rather to amuse the learned; they are those eecentrick lightnings that play harmlessly in the evening cloud; but when they are made the maxims of common life, or, embodied in popular fiction, find their way into the hearts of men, they are these same lightnings concentrated and brought down to earth, blasting and consuming."

Under the third branch of his discourse, in noticing the means by which ethical opinions are diffused, and the effects of theory are brought out in conduct, professor Frisbie thus speaks of the moral influence of polite literature.

"Those compositions in poetry and prose, which constitute the literature of a nation, the essay, the drama, the novel, it cannot be doubted, have a most extensive and powerful operation upon the moral feelings and character of the age. The

very business of the authors of such works is directly or indirectly with the heart. Even descriptions of natural scenery owe much of their beauty and interest to the moral associations they awaken. In like manner fine turns of expression or thought often operate more by suggestion than enumeration. But when feelings and passions are directly described, or embodied in the hero and called forth by the incidents of a story, it is then, that the magick of fiction and poetry is complete, that they enter in and dwell in the secret chambers of the very soul, moulding it at will. In these moments of deep excitement, must not a bias be given to the character, and much be done to elevate and refine, or degrade and pollute those sympathies and sentiments which are the sources of much of our virtue and happiness, or our guilt and misery? The danger is that, in such cases, we do not discriminate the distinct action of associated causes. Even in what is presented to the senses, we are aware of the power of habitual combination. An object naturally disagreeable, becomes beautiful, because we have often seen the sun shine or the dew sparkle upon it, or it has been grouped in a scene of peculiar interest. Thus the powers of fancy and of taste blend associations in the mind which disguise the original nature of moral qualities. A liberal generosity, a disinterested self devotion, a powerful energy or deep sensibility of soul, a contempt of danger and death are often so connected in story with the most profligate principles and manners, that the latter are excused and even

sanctified by the former. The impression, which so powerfully seizes all the sympathies, is one; and the ardent youth becomes almost ambitious of a character he ought to abher. So too sentiments, from which in their plain form delicacy would revolt, are insinuated with the charms of poetical imagery and expression; and even the coarseness of Fielding is probably less pernicious

than the seducing refinement of writers like Moore; whose voluptuous sensibility steals upon the heart and corrupts its purity, as the moon beams, in some climates, are believed to poison the substances on which they fall.

of heaven, and the pestilent vapours of night are breathed in with the fragrance and balin, and the delicate and fair are the surest victims of the exposure."

After reading this passage, we should feel inclined to urge the expediency, if not the necessity, of cultivating moral science, though it were only for the gratification of taste, and the excitement of pleasurable emotions, without any reference to the ascertainment of duty, or the illumination of the conscience.

"But in no productions of modern genius is the reciprocal influence of morals and literature more distinctly seen than in those of the author of Childe Harold. His character produced the poems, and it cannot be doubted, that his poems are adapted to produce such a character. His heroes speak a language supplied not more by imagination than consciousness. They are not those machines, that, by a contrivance of the artist, send forth a musick of their own; but instruments, through which he breathes his very soul, in tones of agonized sensibility that cannot but give a sympathetick impulse to those who hear. The desolate misanthropy of his mind rises and throws its dark shade over his poetry, like one of his own ruined castles; we feel it to be sublime, but we forget, that it is a sublimity it cannot have till it is abandoned by every thing that is kind, and peaceful, and happy, and its halls are ready to become the haunts of outlaws and assassins. Nor are his more tender and affectionate passages those to which we can yield ourselves without a feeling of uneasiness. It is not that we can here and there select a proposition formally false or pernicious; but that he leaves an impression unfavourable to a healthful state of thought and feeling, peculiarly dangerous to the finest minds and most susceptible

hearts. They are the scene of a summer even

ing, where all is tender and beautiful and grand; but the damps of disease descend with the dews

Female Scripture Biography, including an Essay on what Christianity has done for Women. By Francis Augustus Cox, A. M. New-York. James Eastburn & Co. 2 vols. 12mo. pp. 642.

The object of this work is an interesting one--to delineate the private and domestic life and character of the exemplary women who are brought to our nothe contemplation of their principles and tice in the sacred Scriptures; and, from conduct, to deduce lessons and motives for the guidance and governance of females of every station at the present day. With this aim the author has proceeded to infer the dispositions and circumstances of the subjects of his memoirs, from the few but forcible facts which are related of them in the Bible. As far as we have been able to examine his work, he appears to have illustrated the history of the times to which he recurs, and of the individuals of whom he has endeavoured to trace the biography, with no little learning and ingenuity. Whilst we confess that we have not yet been able to bestow on these volumes that attention which they merit, we feel warranted, from the passages we have read, in recommending them to the perusal, not only of those for whose use they seem principally designed, but of all who are desirous of improving themselves in rational views of religion, and what is preliminary and essential to the attainment of those views, in the habit pertaining as well to practice as to of reasoning for themselves in matters faith. It is in this light we particularly commend this work. By enter

listed himself under some tavern bucks, and strut

ted up and down with a surtout which saved the Corporation the trouble of sweeping the streets-was seen every where at public places and parties, without doing any thing but yawn at the one, and stand in every body's way in the other, eating pickled oysters. His estimate of a party, where a man of feeling and refinement would go to enjoy elegant society, and rational amusement, was always founded on the quantity of porter, wine, and pickled oysters, handed round. Never was he known, on any occasion, to do any one thing either pleasing or useful-and, of course, in a little time he attained to the reputation of a fine gentleman; because, as he never did any thing, he must needs be so; employment being unworthy that high character. Some of the best bred people doubted his presensions, until he thought of finding fault with every thing he heard and saw, when the opinion of his high breeding became unanimous.

Whether the people got tired of him, or he grew tired of the people, I don't exactly know; but in order to get a new gloss, he went abroad, staid six months, and came back vastly improved; for he found this country more intolerable than ever-a sure sign of excessive refinement, espe cially as he made a point of proclaiming his opinion aloud at all parties. When I was last at N- I saw him in a book-store, reading a book upside down, and dressed as follows: to wit, one little hat, with a steeple crown; one pair of corsetts; one coat, so tight he could just breathe; one pair of pantaloons, so immeasurably wide and loose you could hardly tell whether they were petticoats or not; I don't recollect the resi due of his costume-but his hair came out from beneath his hat like an ostrich's tail, and he stuck out behind like the African Venus. No doubt the ladies found him quite irresistible.

"One might moralize and speculate on what had been the different estimation of these young men, at least hereafter, had they pursued a course becoming their fortune and education, and devoted themselves to a useful or brilliant career. Had they employed part of their fortunes, and their leisure, in adorning their minds, and encouraging a taste for refined, elegant, and scientific pursuits, although perhaps they might not have attained to any lofty eminence, they would have become associated, at least, with those that were eminent. They might have become their patrons, if not their equals, and attained to a blameless, nay, noble immortality, as the munificent encouragers of genius; instead of being in their lives, the contempt of the virtuous and the wise; and in their deaths, the companions of

oblivion."

married ladies, and thrice venerable spinsters, who go about our cities like roaring lions, doing good." To this charge the author thus replies:

"Here, too, you mistake me. I only objected to the infinite number of these institutions, which are placed solely under the direction of women, whose easiness of belief, and want of experience of the various disguises under which the vicious practise on the credulity of the charitable, render them incompetent to such a delicate task. I am satisfied that this almost indiscriminate charity causes far more misery than it alleviates panders to vice and immorality, by taking from the labouring class the strongest inducement to industry and economy, namely, the conviction that these alone would keep them from starving; by rendering it easier to get re lief by begging than by work; and finally, by giving a sort of respectability to pauperism and beggary, which destroys the salutary contempt we used to feel towards those now right honourable and thriving professions. The moment you make beggary a tolerably respectable calling; the moment you relieve it from the tax which it pays to society, by being despised; that moment you create armies of Lazarones, and convert the idle and the indolent, whom the sense of shame had hitherto deterred, into sturdy beggars. When I was last in your city, where there is a society for the relief of every thing, I was struck with the bold and confident air which pauperism had assumed, which I suppose partly arose from the unwonted respectability of the dress it had assumed. Formerly, it was necessary for a beg gar to be both ragged and dirty, and to exhibit the strongest symptoms of inability to work. But during the period of my visit, I was several times accosted by stout, hearty fellows, who under pretence they could not get work, begged without a blush. The friend with whom I stayed, complained to me that there was hardly a day in which he was not called on for charita ble contributions, either to relieve somebody, ar to convert the Hindoos, or Hottentots, by some of those good ladies I spoke of, who are such sturdy beggars that there is no refusing them. One day, as I was sitting alone in the drawingroom, thinking about matters and things in ge neral, I was roused by a most confident rap at the door. On opening it, a smart dressed young lady tripped in. Professing a great respect for the sex, bowed most profoundly, and invited her into the parlour. The moment she sat down, without being asked her wishes, and with the air of a demand rather than a request, she told me that her mother being in want of ten dollars, she had come with Miss -'s compliments, and a request that I would let her have the money! Now Miss was secretary, or treasurer, I forget which, to several charitable institutions, and exceedingly potent in the beau monde; so I paid the ten dollars, to escape the "terrible areopagus" of the tea-table. The young lady took the money, with the air of receiving her due rather than a favour; slightly lisped Obliged to you, Sir-Ma can now send me to a dancing-school this winter'-and slid out of the room with a right fashionable air. Ten dollars-laid up in heaven! thought I.