ALLOW me to offer a few lines on the subject of the lamentation of your Correspondent " C. S." (Part i. p. 513.)

A worthy Dignitary of our Church, in a late extensive Visitation of Churches which he made, found that common basins were the general substitutes, in the country villages at least, instead of the actual Fonts, for the receiving of the water in the office of baptism. After he returned home, he devised a remedy for what he thought an indecorous practice. He nade a drawing, or a model (I know not which) of a vessel for the purpose, with some appropriate ornaments upon it, to stand in any Font.

A

mould has been cast for it, and some specimens of it made by Spode the Staffordshire-ware manufacturer; and they may be had, I am informed, at Spode's, for a moderate price. The first time I may be in town, I shall certainly procure one of them for use in the parish where I live and it will be my care to see (as indeed it has always been, as to the vessel used for this purpose) that it be kept clean, and that the water put into it be pure.

I agree with C. S." most fully, that where the Rubrick is precise in its directions, no Minister is at liberty to act contrary to it." So it has been invariably my practice to refuse to administer baptisin, in the Church, and at the Font: neither have I ever administered it in the private form, except in such cases as are warranted by the Rubrick. And the public receiving of the children, so baptised by me," into the congregation of Christ's flock," has always followed, if the child lived, in the Church. The "irreverent, slovenly, and indecent manner" of performing the office of Baptism, in the instance alluded to by "C. S." must shock every serious Christian and true member of our public form, in any place but the

Church, who can only hope that such instances are rare.

And here I am led to advert to an inattention (to say the least of it) of which many Clergymen are, I have reason to believe, guilty; I mean that of deferring the entry in the Regis ter of private baptisms, until the public receiving into the Church of children so baptized. A moment's reflection must convince any person that the Baptism, though done privalely, is the thing to be registered, not the public receiving into the Church, as the baptism. Moreover, the late Register Act positively requires that the Register of " every Baptism, whether private or public," shall be entered, “as soon as possible after the solemnization of it;" but "in no case, unless prevented by sickness or unavoidable impediments, later than within seven days after it.”

I will only add my fervent aspiration, that, with every brother of my order, not only a strict adherence to the Rubricks of our excellent Liturgy, and a reverent and decent performance of all the offices belonging to it, but also a due obedience to the Acts of Parliament that direct our conduct in any particular, may be considered as matters of conscience!

CLERICUS SURRIENSIS PRIMUS.

Mr. URBAN,

UNDER

Oxford, Sept. 14.

the head "Oxford Anecdotes" (p. 115), there is a severe and illiberal attack on the memory of the late Dr. Greene. The writer of

this insidious article commences with an allusion to the establishment of discipline and good order at Christ Church by the late Dean, and he states that similar regulations were afterwards adopted in the other Colleges and most of the Halls. The improved condition of Magdalen Hall is dated from the time that Dr. Greene resigned the offices of VicePrincipal and Tutor. Notwithstanding the "nil nisi bonum," the Doctor is charged with having confined the Greek studies of his junior pupils to the Gospel of St. John, and the reading of the candidates for honours to the Anabasis of Xenophon. concludes with an anecdote which bears the most evident marks of falsehood as well as malevolence. A pupil finding an inclination to read a

Greek

*

Greek author placed beyond the pale of Dr. G.'s recommendation, requests his assistance in the study of the Tragedies of Sophocles," the wining Tutor replied-paltry book, paltry book; better take up the Offices at once." A Tutor of more than 30 years standing, is thus made to recommend his pupil to take up, for his Greek examination, the Offices of Cicero-Credat Judæus!

Why should this anonymous writer thus wantonly and uselessly wound the feelings of the friends of the deceased? Can it be for the purpose of lavishing praise on others at the expence of Dr. Greene's character? This surely cannot be agreeable flattery, even to the only gentleman whom it can directly affect. Magdalen Hall is certainly a most respectable house of education. It was so, likewise, when the learned Professor Ford presided, and Dr. Greene was Vice-Principal and Tutor. Education, morals, and discipline, were then as much attended to as now; and, I believe, the occurrences of Exami nates belonging to that Society shining in the Examination Lists, are not now more numerous and striking than they were seven or eight years ago. D. L.

POEMS OF LUCRETIUS, POPE, &c.

WITH CRITICAL REMARKS.
(Continued from p. 209.)

F the subject which elevated or invoked the Muse of Pope, was not inferior to that which found so eminent a place in the thoughts and the poetry of Lucretius,-the rank and dignity of the theme upon which Browne has expatiated, yields in degree to none, from the deep emotions of personal interest which it involves, and its general concernment, it is, perhaps, of all others which can come under the views of philosophy, accompanied with commanding and dignified importance.

Browne's conception and arrangement of the various parts of his subject is peculiarly happy, and calculated to impart a proper effect to speculations of an elevated nature. He has, in the course of his Poem, pursued a series of enquiries, all tending to support and corroborate the fact, that an impression of the natu

*What does Zтa mean by wining?

ral immortality of the soul has generally prevailed among the heathens, and even among barbarous and savage nations, upheld by traditionary evidence, and by that native power of reason and observation, which most men have the gift of exercising for themselves. He has further endeavoured to found the principle for which he contends, on sound argument, and examines closely that evidence which may be marshalled in support of the positions to which he inclines his creed. He at one time views the ills, the complexions, and the changes, and draws an estimate of the pleasures which mark human life; at another tries to aualyze the secret aspirations which each individual feels concerning a future existence and consciousness.The exceptions of certain philosophers to this evidence and this light are likewise touched upon, and designated as sophistical and fallacious. This great question, which forms the subject of Browne's philosophical Poem, likewise involves much latitude of thought. And here, perhaps, if it be asserted that the surmises of untutored nature upon this recondite question are faint and indistinct; it may be asked, on the other hand, are the assurances which we receive from Scripture authority every way tending to satisfy that curiosity and thirst for new ideas which will sometimes agitate the well-exercised and aspiring mind? The reality of such existence we with pious gratitude discover,— but the mode in which our intellectual energies are to expand, is still mysterious, is still unknown.

If the aspirations of human reason are destined to feel their native imbecility, when endeavouring to dig in this fathomless mine,-the divine and the theologian, when he wishes to attain greater clearness on these important matters, or to ascertain any thing beyond the simple assurance which the Scriptures reveal, will find his views clouded with an obscurity through which he is equally unable to pierce. Although the weakness which overshadows our nature and circumscribes its intelligence for the most part to this single state of being, needs the consolatory assurances of Revelation, whose bright and full effulgence unquestionably eclipses the twilight of our glimmer

ing taper, yet reason and moral feeling, which, originally implanted by a Beneficent Creator in the human breast, still glow with unabated warmth, are yet capable of anticipating and believing what may nevertheless receive additional strength of evidence from Divine Truth.

In the developement of his subject, Browne has adduced extensive authorities in support of this sentiment which he adopts, but the catalogue might have been considerably enlarged and augmented. If, with this view, we consult those oracles of learning and research Warburton and Cudworth, their testimony may serve to prove, the one that among most human establishments that existed in the antient world, this doctrine was promulgated and enforced by the most eminent legislators, and the other, that with most of the sages of speculative reasoning it was favoured, and sometimes openly maintained.

Pherecydes, Pythagoras, and Thales, if they did not support the opinion of the soul's immortality in its purer sense, taught its transmigration, and consequently its incorporeality, and, by a pretty plain inference, its imperishability. If Plato and Socrates, by an easy and reprehensible acquiescence in the pagan rites of their country, which we feel at a loss to reconcile with their philosophical dignity of mind, professed and even publicly taught the worship of heathen gods, they certainly, and especially the lat ter, through the light and exercise of their own reason, had attained to much purer ideas of the soul's future existence than attached to the gross and sensual creed of their contemporaries.

Cicero, it is well known (to say nothing of the faint surmises, all tending to the same end, of Seneca, Plutarch, and others), has, in his "De Senectute," unequivocally declared his sentiments in favour of this hypothesis, in several beautiful and elevated passages,―his occasional indecision when, on other occasions, he contemplates the possibility of its perishing with the body, may have arisen from the few means he had of obtaining a permanent assurance.

We learn from Strabo and Cæsar that the Druids of antient Gaul and Britain maintained and disseminated the belief of the incorruptible nature

of the soul. Those among the Indians, called Brachmans, we are likewise told by Strabo, looked forward to a state of the highest happiness which was to attend them after this life, which belief is also professed by most of the roving tribes of Tartars who inhabit the central parts of Asia at this day. Herodotus states it as a current opinion among the Egyptians, that the soul of man was immortal,— the Sarmatians, the Scythians, and Gomerians, are thought to have professed, in the primitive ages of the world, this doctrine; and concerning the Thracians and Germans, Josephus, Solinus, and others, although they affirm a diversity of opinions to have prevailed, relate that many favoured the notion of the soul's surviving its corporeal machine, and being translated into some happy state, which had doubtless a reference to one common immortality. Most of the sects among the Hindoos in modern India have, it is well known, some faint indistinct reference to a future existence, and a state of rewards and punishments,—and the savage and migratory tribes which border upon Canada and the Great Lakes,

have one uniform tradition of the soul's surviving the body, and its separate and eternal consciousness in the world of spirits.

Such are the testimonies, and such the flow of speculation, which spontaneously offer themselves whilst viewing the subject of the De Immortalitate Animi; in the course of which its author examines the various tenets which his design brings before him with calmness and intelligence, and may be said to be prompt in distinguishing truth, and firm in rejecting error.

Among productions in our language, which have been thought to come under the denomination of philosophical, the "Night Thoughts" of Dr. Young, and the "Pleasures of Imagination" of Dr. Akenside, may perhaps, be not improperly ranked. These well-known and well-established Poems, however, although occasionally in their matter and style resembling those whose subjects and merits have been peculiarly the object of the present Essay,-are clearly, neither in the design of their whole, nor the division of their various parts, of the same class or description.

The

The first of these compositions has ever been esteemed of a mixed kind. Partaking alternately of the Descrip. tive, the Pathetic, the Devotional, and the Preceptive casts, these extraordinary efforts of a vigorous mind and fine imagination, often exhibit noble specimens of various and distinct walks in poetry, and give repeated indications of the richest treasures of knowledge being blended and associated with the wild flights of nature and of genius; which, although they do not, from their peculiar complexion, occupy a first-rate place in the annals of our Literature, are yet well worthy of the countenance and attention of the most intelligent, whose estimate must be highly honourable to their rank as powerful writings. The grand and indefinitely remote scenes,-scenes passing mortal bounds, to which he often attempts to rise, redeem his finest thoughts from the character of fiction, and give them the form of realities; and the high and sage-like morality of his preceptial axioms, imparts to his performances an abstract and philosophic air of argumentative discussion.

The beauties which often attract in the "Pleasures of Imagination," consist rather, it will be said, in the warm colourings of fancy, than in a rigid congruity to matter of reality. The irregular excursions of the author's Muse, which have, without much propriety, been termed rhapsodies, doubtless please and exhilarate, as though all were the pictures of fiction;-but this Poem is in truth what the author meant it to be, a philosophical analysis of this endowment or faculty of the mind, termed Imagination, unfolded in all the pomp of epic strains, charming with the novelty and variety of its speculations, without, however, taking for its enquiry matters which are professedly the objects of

science.

These, then, and various other Poems extant, may be thought to diverge into subjects which have a close affinity with Philosophy;-although, in common with other productions of a poetical nature, they please, perhaps, by gratifying the taste, and administering to the sympa thies and passions. But the Poems of Browne, Pope, and Lucretius,

which have elicited the present suc cession of thoughts, we peruse with ideas of a mixed nature, and although the postulates and corollaries of philosophy are susceptible, as we perceive, of the brightening energy of the Poet, these lighter susceptibilities of mind are, whilst we read, less in requisition perhaps than a close and profound exercise of the understanding.

A few further remarks on the language which characterizes these Poems, may not, perhaps, in closing these speculations, be impertinent.

In point of style and beauty of composition, all good judges have allowed that they rank high,—a distinction which they must ever continue to receive at the hands of Criticism. The dignity, weight, and importance of their respective subjects we have attempted to illustrate; the flow of their numbers has offered no unworthy medium for their adequate expression and force. The purity, harmony, and occasional elevation, which is acknowledged to characterize Lucretius, have found no unworthy parallels in the "Essay on Man." If the dignity of thought and expression to which the one some. times attains, be a characteristic excellency, the energy and enthu siasin which sometimes attends whole passages of the last, may be thought to be seldom exceeded by the most established classical productions in our language. Few instances occur, (not perhaps even a solitary one), in discussions of this kind, in which rhimes have been made the successful vehicles of so much energy and animation of sentiment, the power of which each one who reads must acknowledge, in which the harmony, correctness, and polish of a series of verses should be conspicuous, and often vie with the higher characteristics of sublimity. "Art," as a great Poet has finely observed, "is only a prudent and wise steward, who lives ou managing the riches of nature." It has always been allowed, by the first authorities, that Pope was an admirable artist,—that is, he had so thorough a knowledge of what was calculated to strike upon the sympathies and feelings of his readers, that, even rating the exuberant stores of his mind comparatively low,

be

he employed his stock of ideas, his faculty of invention, to the highest advantage.

It has also been no less finely said, by an eminent philosopher, that "words are the money of fools, but the counters of wise men." Without centering his fame in the beauties of composition or of style,-without displaying a useless fonduess for the use of "great and sonorous words," Pope has used them, both in this, and all his other performances, to give body and shape to the conceptions of his mind, and has so adapted the felicities of his language to the exigencies of his purpose, that the importation of manerism has often hung on the measured flow of his periods, when his higher beauties have been neglected.

The merits of HAWKINS BROWNE, in the fine conception of his style, are not perhaps second to those of Lucretius and Pope. If the dignity, and classical selection of language has, in the first of these, been often the theme of panegyrick among critics and commentators, the purity and grace which characterized his numbers, was, in the last, enhanced by a dignity peculiar to his own genius, and to the grandeur and momentous nature of his subject. If in precision and closeness of argument Browne is sometimes superior to the Roman poet, in luminousness, distinctness, and propriety of illustration, he stands without a rival.

Although in description and animated apostrophe he never strikes his reader with such powerful effect, he preserves, through his whole poem, a uniform elevation of thought and expression which sorts well with the august and recondite nature of his disquisitions, and is calculated to heighten that expansion of mind which they are apt to generate.

"Elevated sentiments," says Lord Kaimes, "require elevated language," -the enquiries in which Browne successively embarks, flow from his pen with an unaltered dignity of pace ;his language never rises to unusual passion, nor do his numbers, in any particular, sink beneath the weight

arranged his plan, and disciplined his language to the fine expression of his sentiments.

It may finally be said, with regard to poems which we have here termed Philosophical, that they peculiarly perhaps furnish forth matter of intellectual interest to certain readers, who have too much philosophy and too little of the poet's ardour to relish the fables of traditionary lore, or the inventions of truant genius, even if those inventions display unusual comprehension, grandeur, and sublimity of idea. They partake not of the high-sounding pomp, and heroic character of the Epic,-they have not the various ingredients of unity of fable, plots, machinery, and actors,-they are not founded on deeds of arms, neither do they sing the great achievements of more than mortal prowess, or more than mortal personages. They enter with calm and elevated dignity upon questions of recondite, but high philosophical interest and importance.

Although, then, they are not calculated to usurp that sort of influence over the mind and human passions which any well-delineated production of the Epic or Tragic school is wont to obtain, their dominion is of another kind. The last, by the help of occasional fiction, directed by the inspiration of genius, or by masterly displays of the greater pas sions which are elicited among mankind under certain circumstances, carries away the imagination, and by some secret power often thrills the soul with emotions, though it be at the expense of his judgment. The first preserves a calm and elevated march in its progress,-occasionally animates and distends the soul with feelings of sublimity more vast than usually attends the images or the extravagance of fiction, and while it delights, through the bright medium of poetry, is usually addressed to the nobler powers of understanding. Melksham.

Mr. URBAN,

E. P.

Cape Town, March 15. URING a short residence at Port

the year 1813, I am enabled to give you a slight description of that place, which, if you think worth insertion in

your