and think that it evinces poetic talent of a superior order. We look on Mr. R.'s mind as a verdant landscape, rich with variegated scenery of thoughts, images, and recollections; over which, however, are darkly cast the shadows of melancholy. He seems to have indited every line before us with an aching heart. He appears to be possessed of a morbid sensibility, which, having been exposed to rude collision with the wide world, and shocked and irritated, has subsided into a deep, gloomy, and settled despondency.What Dr. South remarks of Jeremiah, we think very applicable to the writer of the poems before us; "One would think every letter was written with a tear-every word the sound of a breaking heart that the author was a man compacted of sorrows, disciplined to grief from his infancy-one who never breathed, but in sighs-nor spoke, but in a groan." Now, whether this melancholy is real or assumed, we have no means of ascertaining. If the former, we pity, and sympathize with the author; that is, if he really has sufficient cause for it, not if he fancies he has; which is a very frequent indication of a weak and affected mind. If the latter, we heartily despise him. It is quite fashionable now, for writers of poetry to give vent to pretended sorrows in the most dolorous strains conceivable. Their imagery is fraught with fictitious wo -and they whine and eant about broken hearts-blasted prospects, &c. in such a sort as is sufficient to move the muscles of seriousness to laughter. We suspect that the witlings do it in humble imitation of that gloomy spirit Lord Byron: but who does not associate the idea of guilt with his melancholy? Let those, therefore, who ape this great but bad man's moodiness, beware of the motives which a curious public will attribute to them. But to return to our author. He has presented the world with a volume of very elegant and pathetic poetry; and we are at a loss which most to admire -the graphic skill with which he delineates picturesque scenery - the acute observations scattered here and there-on men and manners-or the thrilling notes of deep and anguished feeling, which waken a reciprocal chord in every breast. The chief part of the volume is occupied with thirty sonnets each pos | | sessed of very great merit. We will furnish our readers with a specimen of these sonnets, by extracts therefrom : to have selected the best: we have chosen at random. Before we conclude, we must animadvert on Mr. Richardson's bad taste in appending to a volume of such mournful poetry, such a ridiculous epilogue as that entitled "the Unsuccessful Attempt."-It looks as though Mr. R. had striven to draw our tears -and when he saw them dropping on his pages, he laughed in his sleeve at his duped readers. In a future edition we hope the poem in question will be rescinded. Should the reader be disposed to write annotations on these poems, he will find an abundance of blank paper in the margin. REVIEW.-Hymns by John Bowring. pp. 143. London. Hunter. 1825. MR. BOWRING is undoubtedly a very clever man, and has shewn himself well versed in the literature of Spain, Germany, and Russia; and many masterly translations of the chief works of the poets of those nations, he has already presented to the English public, and thereby obtained considerable popularity. His performances are of very unequal merit; his work on the "Ancient Poetry and Romances of Spain," contains many passages of exquisite beauty:-we may speak in similar terms of his "Specimen of the Russian Poetry;" but we cannot profess ourselves admirers of his "Batavian Anthology,"-in which, though there may be passages of considerable excellence, yet it is deficient as a whole. With respect to the "Hymns" before us: we were heartily astonished that MR. BoWRING should venture into the regions of sacred poetry-what his object is in giving this performance to the world, we are at a loss to conjecture: if with a sincere view to benefit the cause and beautify the service of religion, we thank him; but if written merely for the sake of gain-it cannot be too severely reprobated. If MR. BOWRING expects that these "Hymns" will be adopted in the service of divine worship, we think his expectations will be disappointed,are doctrinally, and some metrically, at least in the general. Several hymns exceptionable.-Now what can MR. BOWRING mean, by amalgamating into a despicable tinkle, the Latinand Eng lish languages--and that on so sacred a subject as the CHRISTMAS HYMNSinging of him who slumbering lies-in præ"In dulci jubilo-to the house of God we'll gosepio." A similar compound runs through every stanza, and the preceding hymn partakes of the same character. Now, does not this jingling rhyme seem at least extreme puerility-or, worse than this-does it not seem to cast an air of ridicule over so sacred a subject: we are at a loss to conceive what can be the object of MR. BOWRING, in printing it. The volume before us contains 151 hymns, many of them evincing marks of great haste-some of harsh metrea few of false rhymes-but more of considerable felicity of thought and expression. Several are of a very dethan close our remarks on this volume, votional cast; and we cannot do better with extracting two, of what seem to us the best hymns it contains. HYMN XIII.-"Awake, thou that sleepest." That day may never dawn again. Hark-how its flitting spirits call Destruction reigns above, beneath, In noontide's beam, in midnight's shade. REVIEW.-Important Advice to the World, or the way to prevent and cure the Diseases incident to the human frame. By J. Morison, Gent. not a Doctor. pp. 246. London. The Author, 60, Soho-street. 1825. In law, divinity, and medicine, both town and country swarm with innumerable quacks. Each pretender has the grand specific, and if the nostrums they dispense were as efficacious as their professions are imposing, litiga- | tion, vice, and disease would be soon banished from the world. Mr. Morison's vegetable cleansers are not designed to operate like the once celebrated metallic tractors in the days of animal magnetism; but if we may believe the book before us, their effects are not less certain, and the results will be more beneficial, at least to the inventor. It is a medicine that professes to scour the intestines, to remove acrid humours that have been collecting from the cradle through the various stages of life, and to impart to languid age the vigour of renovated youth. The vegetable cleansers possess all the good qualities which salts and mercury wantare innocent as a crust of bread, are a cordial, give strength and vigour to the stomach, and cleanse the bowels from all impurities. They aid and improve digestion, are the true and only purifiers of the blood, will keep for any length of time without receiving (or doing) any injury, and pass into the blood and flaids, and from their nature excite all the viscera and bowels to discharge themselves. To these vegetable cleansers, Mr. Morison seems to have imparted no small portion of his own ingenuity. He tells us, that "having cleansed and carried down all the grossest impurities from the stomach, they come afterwards to act on more tenacious and deep-rooted acrimonious humours, which they detach and set in motion." The book seems to be a quack doctor's hand-bill swelled into a volume; and if the author can get a good set of customers, there can be little doubt that it will prove highly advantageous. Both this and the vegetable cleansers seem made to sell, and those who deal largely will find, that in their joint operation they will cleanse their pockets as effectually as their stomachs. That Mr. Morison had not started into existence some centuries ago, must be considered as a general misfortune to mankind. His vegetable cleansers not only prevent and eradicate what have generally been termed diseases, but, by a due application, they will hinder crimes, give energy to talents and genius, cure bashfulness, lay an embargo on drunkenness, obstruct contagion, prevent jealousy, keep those well who are in health, and provide for the want of character.-But we must quit this book, lest our readers should think that we stand in need of Mr. Morison's prescriptions. AN ESSAY ON CONSCIENCE. We are now to inquire what is meant by Conscience. On this subject, we may observe, there are different opinions among moralists, which chiefly take their rise from the formation of the word. It being derived from the Latin con, together, and scio, I know, some have concluded that it must mean the junction of our understanding with the Spirit of God. As words are only signs expressive of ideas or notions derived from things, which have either a real or relative existence, we are not, therefore, to look for the thing in mere words, but by attending to the existence of that which we carry in our own bosoms. This being the case, then, we may become as complete judges of what is meant by conscience, as the man who first invented the word, or applied it in this particular case. We have still the same thing to be apprehended, and the same powers of perception. If conscience consist in the union of the Spirit of God with our spirit, then this union must be natural; seeing we have no evidence to believe that at any time it is acquired. But if it be natural, it must, like all other principles in nature, be unchangeable in itself, and act according to this immutability. Again, if the essence of conscience consist in this union, no modification whatever of our spirit with the Spirit of God can possibly alter the nature of that spirit, which is in itself immutable. Hence, we infer from these premises, that every man's conscience must be alike, and that there can be no diversity of moral feeling in relation to the same actions; but as experience contradicts this theory, and proves a diversity in the feelings and operations of conscience, we must conclude, that it cannot consist in the union now pointed out. man we know, to discover the imperfection of this notion of conscience. In some cases, indeed, we may be doubtful, whether the action be right or wrong, and may thus be reduced to reasoning, in order to reach some satisfactory result; but, in most instances, conscience gives its decision before we have any time to reason; and hence, no doubt, it has been term rience the sensations of heat or smell, without reasoning, when those objects calculated to excite them come in contact with the senses; so conscience becomes sensitive, and renders us miserable or happy, according as the actions which we perform are bad or good. As we cannot prevent our sensations in those cases now specified, so neither can we hinder the operations of conscience, seeing the one is no more dependent on our choice than the other. This variety of moral feeling is am-ed the moral sense. For, as we expeply illustrated in the New Testament. The conscience of the chief priests and elders acquiesced in the death of Christ; but it smote them at the attempt to put the thirty pieces of silver into the treasury, because it was the price of blood. One believeth (in his conscience, saith the apostle) that he may eat all things; another who is weak (in his conscience) eateth herbs. One man went to the idol feast, and ate without conscience of the idol, and another of a weak mind ate and his conscience was defiled. In the former case, the idea of an idol's being nothing, of the earth's being the Lord's, and the cattle upon a thousand hills, associated in the mind of the individual while he ate, prevented his conscience from being contaminated; but in the latter case, the individual was destitute of this association, or, as the apostle terms it, knowledge, and so his conscience was defiled. Conscience has been defined as" the knowledge of universal right, combining with the knowledge of particular cases." From this vague and abstract definition we gain no satisfactory notion, and remain just as ignorant as we were before. This might be sufficient to shew its deficiency; but, we may just remark, that as few, comparatively speaking, understand what is meant by universal right, and as this definition requires the comparison of two well-known ideas, in order to form a judgment; so it deprives the majority of mankind of having any conscience at all. We know, however, that all are possessed of conscience; and hence, such an opinion, to say the best of it, at least does not amount to all the truth. Conscience has been represented by others as the result of the judgment; but, if it be meant in a logical sense, that we must first form a judgment from premises, and that conscience is the result of this, we have only to appeal to the experience of any, or every Having made these observations, we come now to answer the question, "What is meant by Conscience?"Conscience, then, is the understanding and memory of man combining and acting in relation to his moral actions. Each of these powers is essential to its formation, and without all of them, we could not possibly possess the thing. Could we suppose an individual possessed of the most extensive memory imaginable, and yet destitute of understanding, we could by no means believe him accountable for his actions, or possessed of conscience. The case of idiots and maniacs proves this position. Again, could we imagine a man with the most unbounded understanding, and the keenest penetration, and at the same time absolutely destitute of memory; still we could not possibly suppose him accountable for his actions, or possessed of conscience. For, in this case, the action would no sooner be performed than forgotten, and it would be utterly impossible for the mind to approve or condemn the individual for actions which are the same to him as if they never had been done. Hence, it is evident, that understanding and memory are essential to the soul, and to the nature of conscience. Without the first, there could be no sense of right or wrong, and without the second it would be impossible for the first to have objects of a moral nature to contemplate. But here it may be objected, "that conscience condemns for actions about | name of conscience, the moral sense, or to be committed, and how can memory relate to that which has not yet existed?" To this I answer, that in no case whatever can conscience condemn us for the perpetration of a crime that is yet unperformed. It only condemns for the intention to do so; and the memory is as much engaged in recollecting the intention, as it would have been in retaining the action in the mind when it is completed. As conscience stands in different relations, it may be said to perform a variety of offices. While the action is only in contemplation, as a faithful monitor, it earnestly advises to that which is right. While it is in the act of being done, it stands as an inspector, and takes strict cognizance of the result; and when it is fully completed, it assumes the character of the witness, the judge, and the executioner, or rewarder. Like Agamemnon, the will is the fountain of power; but the conscience, like Nestor, is the source of wisdom. The will may act contrary to its dictates; but it can by no means silence its accusations. It implies the recipient faculties of the soul, which are not only capable of receiving, but of reflecting the divine light. It performs its various offices with the utmost despatch and exactness, and when operated on by the divine Spirit, shakes off every degree of slumber, stupidity, and deception, and becomes exceedingly vigorous and active in the service of its master. Under this influence, ""Tis conscience that makes cowards of us all." It remains steady to its purpose in all cases, pursues its subject through every winding maze, and discovers him wherever it meets him, under any disguise. It adheres tenaciously to its own judgment, and is better satisfied with its own decision than that of any other. As the magnetic fluid attracts the steel that comes within its sphere, so conscience lays hold on every moral action performed by man. It is immediately connected with the very essence of our spirit, and is only to lay aside its office of judging of moral actions, when we cease to perform them. It holds a private balance in every man's breast, in which to weigh his actions, and thus becomes the emblem of eternal justice, from which it has derived its commission. Whether we call it, therefore, by the 86.-VOL. VIII. the law of our nature, it matters not; the thing itself commands our reverence, and is worthy of our most serious consideration. `In discoursing of it, we talk not of that which is a stranger to our breast; for there is no man whatever, but is subject to its influence, and has trembled under its frown, and rejoiced under its smile. To assert that conscience is the child of education, reduces it to a mere habit, without any positive existence. This is contrary both to scripture and reason, which evidently consider it as a faculty. For, how a mere habit could advise, inspect, witness, judge, and reward, is a secret we have yet to learn. On the other hand, to deny that it is strongly influenced by education and local habits, is as contrary to truth. This influence may have a tendency to lead it from the path of truth and nature; but it is only under the specious appearance of good. It never can approve of evil as evil, and the evil action must appear in some goodly covering, before it can merit the approbation of the conscience. When the Spartans taught their children to steal, when the ancient Germans publicly approved of theft, and when, by the laws of Lycurgus, men were permitted to use each other's wives, it was not because they approved of these actions in themselves, but because they judged them as tending to some seeming good. They did evil, that good might come. The time will come (saith the Son of God to his disciples) when they that kill you will think that they do God service. Here the fault was not in the conscience, but in the will. They would not attend to the evidence proposed by the apostles; and hence the conscience remained unenlightened, and, by a long course of unbelief and wickedness, became seared as it were with a hot iron. Persecution, we may remark then, springs from perverseness in the will, blindness in the understanding, and a strong association of ideas influencing the conscience. The revealed law of God is the proper rule and boundary of conscience. This is the balance of the sanctuary, by which we are properly to regulate the private equipoise in our breasts. Let us then apply to mercy to adjust the beam, trough the Redeemer of mankind; then justice shall N |