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Telescope.

The real inventor of the telescope was a poor spectacle-maker of Middleburg in Zealand, called Hans Lippersein, the year 1609. The first elegant one was that of Maurice Prince of Orange.

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Precisely as in the case of America, the discovery has given reputation to a pretender. Soon after, one Metius, mathematician, published a book in which he very naturally gives the invention to his own dear brother, James Metius, a dealer in instruments! They who know human nature will not wonder at the success of Metius,

For man is naturally averse
To all the truth he sees or hears,
But swallows nonsense and a lie
With greediness and gluttony.

It must not be forgotten, that Porta seems to have had a faint idea of the telescope. Consult his Magia

Nat. lib. xvii. c. 11.

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SPOKEN AND WRITTEN THOUGHT.

It is primarily by means of speech that the mind of one man makes its way to the mind of another. What more direct powers of communication superior orders of being may be endowed with, we know not. This we know, that we must be indebted to the vehicle of language for all the communion we hold together. Man cannot wield those instruments of spiritual intercourse by which the pure unembodied intellect may be supposed to glance its voiceless thought on the intuitive perceptions of a kindred intelligence.

And yet so perfectly adapted to its end is the instrument by which we reveal the secret of the hidden mind, that, as in the case of air and light, we often forget entirely that it is a medium. When the stream of thought flows spontaneously and uninterruptedly from mind to mind; when the electric influence of feeling is communicated spontaneously from the heart in which it was formed to all those whom the voice combines in the circle of contact; we never think of the apparatus by which it has been conveyed. When we meet together, and mutually communicate our sentiments,

we are never aware, that we are elaborating a conveyance of our thoughts through the medium of words-we are aware of nothing more than this, that we feel the impression of one another's thought.

But this immediate viva voce intercourse is not our only method of communication. There is another medium by which, in a cultivated state of society, perhaps a more extensive intercourse of mind is carried on, and in which very different means are necessary for securing an intelligent and perfect conveyance of the mind. By the admirable contrivance of written language, we can transmit our thoughts to places we have never visited, and can hold converse with men to whom we are denied all personal access. We can address the feelings of our distant friends, with out moving a step towards their dwellings, and, confined to a dungeon, we can convey a portion of our souls to those who are debarred from hearing our voice, or beholding our living aspect. We can bequeath our ideas to the remotest posterity, and speak to the understandings and the sympa thies of distant ages. By means of this expedient likewise we familiarize ourselves with the sentiments of men of all ages and nations; we listen to the wisdom of our fathers long after their heads have been laid in the dust; in the privacies of our own homes we cultivate an acquaintance with the good and the great of other times, and receive as our companions the sages of antiquity.

These two modes of communication seem at first sight intrinsically the same. It seems to matter little whether the words which contain our thoughts be uttered by the voice or recorded on paper. That which has been spoken, it is supposed, may easi ly be transferred to the page without diminution of its meaning or interest. Yet a closer inspection will show us, that these two modes are distinguished by characters essentially different, and that, to bring each to its perfect state, very different expedients are requisite. That style of expression which is suitable to the one is not adequate to the other. That very language, which burst forth in flame from the fervid lips of a present genius, becomes in a great measure torpid when transferred to the page, and

cools into comparative insipidity. Though the expedient of writing and printing have done much for us in preserving and transmitting our thoughts and feelings, much must still be left to the imagination and sympathy of those to whom these thoughts and feelings are addressed. The language which makes its direct appeal to the ear goes to the soul at once, conveying, without dubiety, the exact meaning of the speaker, as where the mere language of words becomes inadequate, he can call in the assistance of expletive tones, and the expressive language of the eye; while the very same language, recorded by the pen, has, we find, lost much of its precision, and is somehow invested with a dim uncertainty, unless we be careful to employ new artifices for securing an intelligent and forceful transmission of the thought. And hence it is, that though we receive much pleasure even from the printed record of spoken eloquence, we are not thus fully satisfied of the truth of our impressions, and do always entertain a longing curiosity to have our vague and imperfect ideas of the speaker's sentiments moulded into a form of consistence and certainty, by the persuasive reality of his presence. Though we possess the outline of his thoughts, we are sensible that their peculiar charm has evaporated in transmission. This naked outline is to the impetuous utterance like the scene pictured on canvas, compared with the real light and shade, the flush and freshness, the motion and the life of the natural landscape. When Eschines, driven from Athens by the overwhelming influence of his rival, Demosthenes, produced among his scholars at Rhodes the manuscript of that celebrated speech (eg repave) which had sealed the doom of his own exile, and when they all eagerly expressed their sense of its great spirit and power, "What would you have felt," exclaimed the generous Greek, "had you but heard himself pronounce it ?"

When the accomplished orator rises among his fellow-men to give utterance to some great idea, his kindred spirit comes flowing forth on his arrested audience, not merely in the words in which he clothes his thoughts, but in the fervour of his tones, the keen energy of his eye, the animating cn

thusiasm of his gestures, the impas sioned sincerity and ardour of his whole demeanour.

But is there no way in which all this spirit might be caught and preserved ? Is there no plan, by which the orator, when he bequeaths to us his eloquence, may diffuse over his page the enthu siasm which worked in his own bosom? Are there no arts by which he may awaken the sympathies of his reader, when he comes to convey his sentiments through the channel of the press, by which he may embalm in the expression the pregnant idea in its original freshness, so that glowing with life, it shall rise and swell from the page, such as it would be, were he present to give it all its due vigour of discriminative enunciation ?

All this the writer must accomplish, who aspires to seize the warm admiration of his fellow-men, and to live long in their estimation. It is not enough, it is far from being enough for him to set down the mere lifeless signs of his ideas. He must put himself in the situation of his reader, and carefully endeavour so to present his conceptions that they shall all converge on that point of view from which his reader must contemplate them. He must complete the vivid picture with the relief of perspective, and perpetuate its power in colours that time may not obliterate. And as the tasteful painter does not content himself with a finical Chinese exactitude of detail, or think it enough to present us with a slavishly accurate fac-simile of natural objects, but seizes on those points only' which are most calculated to afford the imagination of the spectator a genuine, striking im press of the object to be pourtrayed; so the writer, who would convey in words either a lively representation of some natural object, a correct image of thought, or a strong impression of internal emotion, must do more than set down the dry terms which may individually be the precise symbols of his ideas. He must interweave such allusions, and awaken such associations, as shall produce his thought entire, and, by a judicious selection and artful arrangement, he must stamp his expressions with that vigour and harmony which characterized the original conception.

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It is difficult, perhaps impossible, describe with precision what that

etherial something is, so requisite for
the fresh preservation of thought in
written terms; but it is what every
writer of genius, as soon as he per-
ceives the difficulty and the glory of
the attainment, will at once com-
mand; and, though we might despair
of furnishing him with a perfect sys-
tem of rules for the regular accom-
plishment of his object, as soon as he
makes the attempt, we are confident
that the desired effect will speedily be
compassed by a thousand indescrib-
able artifices which flow from the very
circumstances of the case. His inge-
nuity, when once set to work, will
soon discover a language adapted to
his purpose,
-a language more in-
stinct with feeling, more teeming with
energy, than is used in speech,-a
language in which the very hue and
spirit of the idea is ground, as it were,
into the expression.

It is the attainment of these desiderata which gives its peculiar charm to the high-wrought language of the poet. When we peruse his glowing page, what is it in his expression that rivets and enraptures us, but that we there find a more intimate and successful evolution of thought than in the more hasty and negligent style of prose?-that we there find a careful and nice selection of words exquisitely adapted to the forceful exhibition of the mind, and true to its inmost workings?-that we there behold a mirror in which the whole internal spirit is brightly reflected,-a vehicle so transparent and so congenial, that the very soul shines through it, and seems embodied, in it,-a balmy breathing power, whose etherial touch so thrills and ravishes, that we deem it-the contact of the mind itself?

J. G. C.

LATIN INSCRIPTIONS.

THE literature of Scotland has, for many years past, travelled out of the walk of scholarship, and our English neighbours have had some reason to reproach us with our

Small Latin, and less Greek,more especially with our inaccurate prosody, in which we, so often,

scan

With Midas' ears, committing short and long.

It is singular, too, that it should

be the country of Buchanan upon which this disgrace has fallen:-we are not, however, inclined to think much the worse of our countrymen upon this account: it is a fault, but it is one which has very naturally arisen in their circumstances; and although we are ready to admit that the reverence of the English for ancient learning is a virtue, yet it is one of those virtues which borders a good deal upon superstition. The Scotch were a very learned nation, when they could make their learning eminently useful,-they have ceased to be so when they found other branches of knowledge more interesting and important. If Hume or Smith had done little else than study the classics, we should neither have had the most philosophical history, nor the most profound work on political economy, which the world has seen, to grace the literature of our country :-if Dr Black or Mr Watt had been mere scholars, Scotland would not have led the way in the brilliant career of chemical discovery, nor have had to boast of the greatest of all mechanical inventions.

The great men of former days, both in Scotland and England, were profound scholars, because all the knowledge of the times was embodied in scholarship, and certainly the elevated minds which were thus brought into the arena of letters, both derived an infinite richness from the stores which they ransacked, and gave in return, to learning, a character of sublimity, by associating it with the vigour of their own powers, and the splendour of their own performances. It is difficult to say whether such writers as Buchanan and Milton have been more indebted to their learning, or have conferred greater honour upon it; but where are the modern scholars whom we thus find, amid their favourite pursuits, "stealing and giving odour?" There are in England at this day, no doubt, men superior to either of these great poets in the knowledge of the exact prosody of Greek chorusses, and in many of the other minutiae of scholarship, but is there one who rises, like them, from the study of the ancient writers, with a mind burning with the flame of congenial genius, and prepared to rival the mighty mas ters, over whom it has been hanging in breathless admiration? Milton did not

despise the accuracy of learning, undoubtedly, but he speaks somewhere of an "Asinine feast of sow-thistles," which proves his thorough contempt for all scholastic attainments which do not elevate and fill the mind!

We believe the truth to be, that in the two parts of the island two very opposite errors on the subject of ancient learning prevail. We are apt to neglect it in Scotland, because we see that a great deal can be done without it, and in England, again, the bigotry of learning comes in the room of its noblest and most generous uses. We rather think that our error is the more easily to be cured of the two. The same force and vivacity of mind which has of late years carried the genius of Scotland into so many fields of literary and scientific exertion, will easily fix upon, and apply to great purposes, all those branches of scholarship which are really excellent, whenever their paramount importance is clearly perceived;-it will combine intellect and utility with learning; and, as a proof of this, we may remark, that, among the scattered scholars of eminence whom Scotland has always produced, this combination has been remarkable.

The late Lord Monboddo and Dr Gillies probably knew more, and speculated more profoundly, on ancient philosophy than any of their contemporary scholars. We scarcely think that we ought to except Mr Harris. The present Professor Young of Glasgow and Professor Hunter of St Andrews, we suspect, are more acute in the philosophy of language than any of the great scholars of England; we do not know whether Dr Parr is to be excepted, who is certainly superior to them, and, we believe, to all other scholars of the age, in the detail, especially of Greek learning. For useful writers and teachers in the classical department, Scotland, too, is conspicuous. The school-books of the late Dr Adam and of Professor Dalzell are in general use, not only in England, but in America. A very ingenious little treatise* by Mr Carson, one of the pre

"Rules for the Construction of the Relative, Qui, Quæ, Quod, with the Subjunctive Mood, established by a copious Selection of Examples from Classical Authors, with Critical Notes, intended to reconcile apparent Anomalies, and to illustrate the

sent masters of the High School in this city, has lately, through the recommendation of that eminent and liberal scholar, Dr Parr, found its way into the great English schools; and we believe it will not be easy to point out another person, throughout the island, who combines so many of the best qualifications of a teacher,-sees so distinctly all the highest and most enlightened applications of learning, or conveys his extensive and interesting instructions with so much zeal and temper, as the present very distinguished Head of that excellent Seminary.

There have never been wanting, besides, in Scotland, men, in the most different situations and professions, who have cultivated classical learning for a liberal amusement. Many of our country gentlemen, (though we rather suspect the race is a good deal out,) many of our great lawyers and physicians, (perhaps, too, we must here rather speak of former times,) have been in the habit of finding an occupation for their leisure, or a solace from their severer labours, in these elegant and happy pursuits. The late Mr Ramsay of Ochtertyre and Mr Callendar of Craigforth may be named as examples of the first class. The late Lord Woodhouselee was well known as an accomplished scholar, among the lawyers of Scotland, and he united with his scholarship a sufficient degree of the ambition of his country to turn it to account, and not to let it waste in inaction. His Essay on Translation gave him, early, a name among the polite and learned writers on criticism.

Our illustrious townsman, Dr Gregory, is, perhaps, the finest example now remaining of that fine old school. Amidst the labours and fatigues of an unremitting medical practice, of which he has long been at the head, his powerful and elastic mind has ever returned with delight to the classical tastes and studies of his youth. Early in life, his Conspectus Theorie Medicinæ, established his name as the best Latin writer of the age, on the subject of his profession; and the

extent and limits of the Rules, &c."-It is proper, also, here to mention, that Mr Gray, another master of the High School, has lately published a valuable selection, with Notes, from the most eminent Latin prose writers, which may be generally adopted with great advantage.

warmth of his patriotic or social and domestic affections, amid all the varied events of joy and sorrow, throughout a long life, is ever finding occasion to diffuse itself in that nervous language, which seems, in truth, the most congenial to the manly, yet feeling, temperament of his soul. There are few great public events or eminent characters which have not been eulogized in inscriptions or epitaphs by this vigorous scholar, in whom the præfervidum Scotorum ingenium is, perhaps, more perfectly exhibited than in any other of our contemporaries. These inscriptions, we think, are remarkable for a distinct and expressive Latinity, and we know not how we can better adorn our pages than by collecting a few of them, which have been handed about in print in detached leaves, like those of the Sybil, and of which, when they have once left him, we suspect their author—

Nec revocare situs, aut jungere carmina

curat.

We begin, as all Scotsmen are in duty bound to do, with the battle of Bannockburn. Dr Gregory has written an inscription for a monument proposed to be erected on that field of glory. We transcribe exactly the pages in which it has been published, containing an English translation, an advantage which several of his other inscriptions have not received.

If a monument shall be erected at Bannockburn, to mark the place of King Robert Bruce's splendid and decisive victory over the English army, commanded by King Edward the Second in person, and to record the enthusiastic veneration with which the people of Scotland have always most justly regarded the memory of their heroic and patriot king, the following inscription, for the face of the monument most in view, is humbly suggested. (1.) Annuente. Deo. optimo. maximo.

Hic. juxta. Banocum. Rivulum. A. D. MCCCXIV. Magna. strage. fusis. Immensis. copiis. Eduardi. II. Regis. Angliæ.

Qui. gentis. Scoticæ. excidium. summa. ope. molitus.

Ferrata. sua. agmina. ipse. huc. usque.

duxerat.

ROBERTUS. BRUSSIUS. REX. Scotiam. prius. diris. civium. discordiis. Et. bellis. plus. quam. civilibus. ruentem. Ab. immani. hoste. externo. victor. libera

vit.

Summus. postea. rex.
Domesticum. veteris. regni. statum.
Pace. nondum. facta.

Solus. restituit. composuit. sustinuit.
Prudens. justus. mitis. pius. felix.
Patriæ. conditor. decus. ultor. pater.

For another face of the same monument, the following inscription will per. haps be thought suitable; as recording some little circumstances, which, though interesting, are not so important as to make a part of the principal inscription.

(2.)

Loci.

Quem. præclara. victoria.
Et. vindicata. Scotia. libertas.
Et. memoria. semper. culta.
Semperque. Scotis. colenda.
Summi. herois. meritissimi. Regis.
ROBERTI BRUSSIL

Omnibus. fecere. sacrum.
Quibus carum. est. nomen. patriæ.
Ne. certum. deesset. indicium.
Post. annos. D. pia. civium. cura.
Ipsum. super. saxum.

In. quo. vexillum. ante. proposuerat. rex.
Quam. cum. Anglis. signa. contulit.
Hoc. tandem. positum. est. monumentum.
A. D. MDCCCX-

Substance of the preceding Inscriptions in English, for the benefit of our Lady Patriots.

(1.) By the blessing of the most good and great God, here, near Bannockburn, in the year 1314,

KING ROBERT BBUCE,

having routed, with great slaughter, the vast host of Edward the Second, King of England, who, endeavouring, with all his might, utterly to destroy the Scottish nation, had led, in person, his iron array thus far, victoriously freed, from an exasperated and overwhelming enemy, Scatland, previously falling fast to ruin, by the deadly feuds, and wars worse than civil, of its own people.

Afterwards, that great King, even before peace was restored, by his own wisdom, and persevering exertions, re-established and preserved the tranquillity and welfare of this ancient kingdom; prudent, just, mild, pious, prosperous; the restorer, the ornament, the avenger, and the father of his country.

(2.) Five hundred years after the days of KING ROBERT BRUCE, by the pious care of the people of Scotland, on the very stone on which he had displayed his standard before he gave battle to the English, this monument was at last erected, in the year 18, that there might not be wanting a sure mark of the place, which the glorious victory of Bannockburn, and the establishment of the liberty of Scot land, and the veneration with which the

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