all persons of true genius and genuine taste. The author does not often fall below others, though he sometimes falls below himself. When Miss Carter reprobated the tedious prolixity of Richardson, she evinced a more correct and cultivated judgment, than was manifested by Miss Mulso, in her impatient reprehension of Dr. Young. On some occasions, however, the criticisms and observations of this fair writer, seem more judicious than those of her accomplished and learned correspondent; we could instance this on the subject of Fielding's Amelia, of which work her opinion is much less favourable, but much more just than that of Miss Carter. We trust the following extract will justify this remark. I "I am extremely obliged to you for gratifying my curiosity with your reason for speaking so favourably of Amelia, though, at the same time, I am not a little mortified to find that I cannot assent to all you say. am afraid that I have less mercy in my disposition than you, for I cannot think with so much lenity of the character of Booth, which, though plainly designed as an amiable one by the author, is, in my opinion, contemptible and wicked. "Rather frail than wicked!" dear Miss Carter! that is what I complain of, that Fielding contrives to gloss over gross and monstrous faults in such a manner, that even his virtuous readers shall call them frailties. How bad may be the consequence of such representations to those who are interested in the deception, and glad to find that their favourite vices are kept in countenance by a character which is designed to engage the esteem and good wishes of the reader." There is in these letters a fund of vivacity and sound sense, with much acute remark, and many valuable sèntiments and instructive observations. It was with pain and regret we perused the account of those afflictive de privations which sorrowed the close of the amiable writer's life. The premature decay of the human mind; strength shrinking into weakness, and its vigour subsiding into imbecility-this is indeed, at all times, a sad and humiliating spectacle. Mrs. Chapone's mind was enervated, and her spirits broken by losses of a nature which we have all more or less reason to deplore. "The autumns of 1797 and 1798 she spent at the Deanery of Winchester, when, besides the gratification she always experienced from the company and kindness of the admirable friend she there visited, she had the su preme satisfaction of seeing her favourite niece very hap pily settled, with a worthy and excellent husband, the Rev. Benjamin Jeffreys, who was a fellow of the College of that city. The last of these visits was rendered peculiarly agreeable to her, by having the addition of her beloved brother to partake in her pleasure, as he at the same time passed some weeks at the house of his niece. This was the last season of enjoyment that Mrs. Chapone was ever blessed with. Afliction now approached her, that even her constancy was not proof against. In the beginning of February 1799, this dear brother, her constant companion, friend and protector, was seized with an unexpected and violent disorder, of which he died, after a fortnight's severe suffering. 66 "This was a calamity Mrs. Chapone had never calculated upon. Though some years older than herself, Mr. Mulso had always enjoyed so much better health, and a peared so likely to attain a vigorous old age, that she had never allowed herself to contemplate the prospect of surviving him. "The world now contained but little to attach her to it, London nothing; but the same laudable resolution, thankfully to cherish the few blessings still within her reach, that was the guide of all her actions, made her determine upon settling at Winchester. There she hoped that the attentions of her niece, the unalterable friendship of Mrs. Ogle, and the society of several families by whom she was equally respected and admired, might, in some measure, contribute to brighten again the overclouded evening of her days, and cause the short remainder of her life to pass in tolerable ease and comfort. She however awaited the approaching confinement of her niece, before she finally arranged this plan, and that was destined to put an end to it for ever; for this amiable child of her affections, this last treasure she possessed," was also torn from her, after giving birth to a dead child, the March following."* "This event, together with the removal of the dean *We would suggest to the editors to alter the collocation of the above passage, should these volumes reach a second edition, which we do not doubt they will. It should stand thus: "was also torn from her in the March following, after giving birth to a dead child;" at present her niece whose death she so much deplored, is made to give birth to a dead child the March following. ED. and Mrs. Ogle to their family seat in Northumberland, made her relinquish all thought of a residence at Winchester, and she meekly submitted to remain in her cheerless lodgings in London. "Her piety and her patience were still unshaken, but her mind yielded to the effect of those severe shocks. • Reason tottered on her seat.' Her memory became visibly and materially impaired, and her body was so much affected by the sufferings of her mind, that she soon sank into a state of alarming debility. "Thus miserably circumstanced, she had still, however, the grateful consolation to find that the respectable circle of friends with whom she had been used to associate, and who remembered the pleasure her shining talents had formerly afforded them, forsook her not now when their lustre was faded. "The most strenuous endeavours were exerted to render her situation less deplorable. As the increased expences of the times gave room to apprehend she might have difficulties of another nature to encounter, even pecuniary aid was not withheld, and the most delicately offered contributions, prevented her feeling sensiBle of this additional source of distress. Though at times she was so lost as to be unconscious of the presence of her friends, at others, nature seemed to revive within her, and she would occasionally astonish them, with even brilliant sallies of her genuine vivacity. "In October 1801, Mrs. Chapone completed her 74th year. On the Christmas day following, without any previous illness, having declared herself unusually well the day before, she fell into a doze from which nothing could arouse her, and which the medical gentleman who attended her, immediately pronounced to be the forerunner of death; and at eight o'clock in the evening, without one apparent struggle or sigh, she breathed her last." The memoirs which intersperse her posthumous works, impressed us with a very favourable opinion of the heart, as well as the understanding, of Mrs. Chapone; those who have been pleased and edified with her Letters on the Improvement of the Female Mind,' will peruse with interest what is here related of the life and character of their author. An Abridgment of the Lighs of Nature pursued, By Dr. Johnson used to say of the writings of Tucker, that he never took them up but they taught him something which he did not know before. Such an acknow ledgment from one so distinguished, is no slight praise. To this eulogium may be added the character given of this work by Mr. Paley, in the preface to his Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy. "There is one work" says this valuable writer" to which I owe so much, that it would be ungrateful not to confess the obligation. I mean the writings of the late Abraham Tucker, esquire; part of which were published by himself, and the remainder since his death, under the title of— The LIGHT of NATURE PURSUED, by Edward Search, esq.'-I have found in this writer more original thinking and observation, upon the several subjects that he has taken in hand, than in any other, not to say than in all others, put to gether. His talent also for illustration is unrivalled. But his thoughts are diffused through a long, various, and irregular work."-It is this diffusion and prolixity which has occasioned the present abridgment, in which the dis persed excellencies of this philosophical work are concen trated, its redundancies lopped, and its repetitions omitted; and the whole is reduced into one instructive and valuable volume. The public are indebted to the pains taken in this abridgment, which is executed with all that judgment in selection, which might be expected from one who knows so well how such a task should be performed. We cannot better describe the manner in which he has acquitted himself than in his own words. "All the singular observations, all the fine illustrations, I have given nearly in an entire state to the reader; I was afraid to touch them lest I should spoil them. that I went by was, to give every thing that I thought The rule would strike the attention in reading the work itself, and to leave out every thing (except what was absolutely neces sary to the understanding of the subject) that would be likely to make no lasting impression on the mind. A good abridgment ought to contain just as much as we would wish to recollect of a book: it should give back (only in a more perfect manner) to a reader well ac-.. quainted with the original" the image of the mind," so that it would miss no favourite passage, none of the minent parts or distinguishing features of the work.” pro The reader will find the present abridgment to contain all that the above judicious and sensible observations would lead him to expect. The present editor evinces himself to be a man of sound judgment, accustomed to abstract research, and fully able to appreciate the merits of Dr. Tucker, as a writer and a metaphysician. His preface, which is written with the freedom of one accustomed to composition, contains many acute and original remarks; He does not seem to think Dr. Tucker ever brought his theological tenets to the test of a very severe examination, and there is much in his writings that justify this opinion: most men imbibe sentiments in early life, which they ever afterwards adhere to, not because they know them to be true, but because they have never suspected them to be false. "I can conceive" says this editor in his preface "that a person may all his life live in the belief of a certain notion, without suspecting the contrary, yet, that if the case could be put to him, to declare his opinion freely, to the best of his judgment, for that, if he were mistaken, his life must answer for it, he would instantly find by what slender threads his former opinion hung."---This is justly observed, but what follows is not so correct : "Common complaisance, or good nature, or personal regard, may lead me to give credit to, and defend the truth of a story told by a friend, which yet, if I were put to my oath, I could not do. So that in fact, we very often believe that to be true, which we know to be false"---This conclusion is certainly false, nor does it at all follow from the premises. We may believe the statement of a friend to be true, although we could not, if called upon, confirm it ourselves upon oath, and for this plain reason, because we have not the evidence which he had, and therefore, though we may credit his relation of the fact, it is for him, and not for us, to swear to it. As to the inference, that we in fact very often believe that to be true, which we know to be false; it is a contradiction so irreconcileable to common sense, that it is not deserving of serious refutation.---But leaving the preface, we will pass on to the work itself. The first chapter is on the faculties of the mind. It contains much originality of observation; the allusions are happy, and the illustrations simple and impressive.. |