and, undoubtedly, it is to the self-corroding effect of these qualities that his early death is to be attributed.

Sir Egerton Brydges differs with us in this estimate. He thinks that there are "no poems except Shakespeare's, which have more of life, more of human passion and interests in them." "No genius," he says, "has taken a greater variety of characters than that of Lord Byron. Sometimes it is all splendour; sometimes it is all storm and darkness, and diseased vapour; sometimes it is a surprising minglement of radiance and cloudiness, where the brilliancy at one moment emerges in broad unveiled effulgence; the next is utterly hidden, and then again just pierces, and breaks in faint, but light and golden, spots through the billowy mantle."

It cannot be denied that Lord Byron's poems are full of energy, -full of intense interest and impassioned verve. They are replete with a sublimity which extorts admiration and astonishment from the mind; and they possess, amidst great variety of images, graphic delineations of landscape, and grace, eloquence, and refinement of diction, and condensation of thought, which always have charmed and allured the perceptions of taste! With Lord Byron all is nervous; and every chord he touches, is replete with harmony, energy, and vigour.

Having said thus much, we believe we have said nearly all that can be affirmed of Lord Byron's muse, by any well-wisher to the substantial interests of society. He who brutalizes every feeling that gives dignity to social, every principle that imparts comfort to domestic, life; he who represents all chastity as visionary, and all virtue as vile, is not entitled to be treated with the deference of idol worship, however Herculean and god-like be his intellectual frame. In such a state of things, it is necessary for the champion of morals, even if naked and single, like Ulysses at the mouth of the Acherontian pit, though the pieties due to the dead are there, and though the dear emotions of relationship are at hand, to wave the faulchion over the enchanted pool of blood, and drive the gibbering phantoms from the half-forgotten repast of passion and violence, of hatred, lust, and crime.

Sir Egerton Brydges thinks that Lord Byron did not "mean wrong" in giving to his Cain its peculiar features of infidelity, without supplying the obvious antidote, like Milton; and generally disputes the charge brought against Lord Byron's poetry, as pernicious to the morals of society. In this, we differ entirely from the classical and elegant apologist; it is morally impossible that the mind which sits down in purity to the contemplation of such impurities should rise from it with its original purity. It is impossible that such ideal pictures of evil should be continually familiarized with the mind, should come, and go, and "leave no stain behind;" that the rising generation should feed to saturation on the mephitic banquet, and contract no colour from the diet; that they should repose on the rosy couches of Sybarite indulgence; and pass forth "fancy free" and unbitten by the wily snake that glides and undulates amidst the fragrance and the flowers. Poetically speaking, Lord Byron certainly makes the most of his degraded subjects; he borders his

poisoned cup with unquestionable gems of price, and tricks out with the garnish of meretricious flowers the banquet on which the disjecta membra of Pelops are served up. None are brought into the poetical slaughter-house but youth and purity; youth that has never learnt experience by trial of good and evil, and purity that has never known a stain. We feast and loathe, and loathe and feast again. The sun hides his face from the impiety-nature shudders-and every human hand and voice are by turns lifted up against the protracted abomination. No matter! the poet proceeds unmoved to the consummation of his purpose, and to the period of his career.

Self-Advancement, or extraordinary Transitions from Obscurity to Greatness, designed as Objects of laudable Emulation for the Youthful Mind. By the Author of Practical Wisdom.-4to.

pp. 334. 7s. 6d. WITH the design of this work no one can be displeased: the only question will be, How is it executed? A question which we cannot answer very encomiastically. In the first place, the characters selected are not, speaking generally, such as the circumstances in which nine hundred and ninety-nine boys in a thousand are placed, will afford them the opportunity of imitating, however they may be disposed so to do. Emperors and Kings, Popes and Cardinals, have too distant connections with common life, to influence common minds; and, in a work of this nature, will affect as little in the way of useful example, as they do when exhibited on the stage: the author, however, shall be heard on this point, as far as he speaks to it in the last paragraph of his preface:

"In the lives of the individuals thus selected for attention, as affording the most remarkable instances of extraordinary transitions from obscurity to greatness by the mere force of talent and stedfastness of pursuit, it has not appeared desirable to enter into the political history of the times in which they lived; or into any controversial opinions respecting their general conduct, more particularly than might be required for the elucidation of their own characters, and of the peculiar circumstances to which they owed their rise; at the same time that care has been taken to admit those only, in whom good principles and actions greatly predominate over fault or error, and whose general qualities fit them for objects of proper admiration; for let it be invariably borne in mind by both young and old, rich and poor, that virtue is better than knowledge, and contentment than power; and that no station, however seemingly prosperous, can be really enjoyed by its possessor, except that which is gained by means at once innocent and honorable."

Among the thirteen histories given to promote this laudable purpose, we find the lives of the Emperor Basil, Alexander the Fifth, Cardinal Wolsey, Sixtus the Fifth, and the present King of Sweden; not one of which, in our opinion, presents a pattern calculated to excite that kind of emulation which can 'tend to augment the welfare and happiness of society. What is there in the story of a boy carried into slavery in his infancy, and afterwards escaping to his native country, and becoming an Emperor; or being deserted and compelled to beg his bread, and then, by a kind of miracle, being made a Pope,-what, we ask, is there in either of these cases, to create the love of virtue and honest industry, or to awaken any of that patriotic zeal, or regard for the public good, which so adorns the higher ranks when there cherished?-We are free to say, that among these

thirteen memoirs, almost the only life that can claim the praise of contributing to the good the author professes to have in view, is that of Dr. Benjamin Franklin; the whole of which exhibits a picture of honorable endeavour, and noble and generous mindedness, the imitation of which lies within the scope of every rank, and cannot be copied without benefiting the world:

"Benjamin Franklin was born at Boston, in New England, on the 17th of January, and was the youngest but two of seventeen children. His father, who was a native of Ecton, in Northamptonshire, was a worthy and industrious man, distinguished for his good sense, which frequently caused his opinion to be asked among his neighbors, both on public and private affairs. His mother was prudent and affectionate, and in both a natural cheerfulness agreeably enlivened the serious turn of character which they had imbibed from their progenitors having been exposed to religious persecution, on account of embracing the formal religion.

་

"Benjamin Franklin was originally intended by his father for the church, but, finding the expense of his education more than he could afford with so large a family, he resolved to bring him up to his own employment of a tallow-chandler. To this way of life, however, Franklin, at ten years old, declared his decided dislike, and as he showed even at that early age a passionate love of books, laying out in the purchase of them whatever money was given to him, his father bound him apprentice to his brother James, who was several years older than himself, and was established as a printer at Boston. In this way of life Franklin had opportunities of borrowing whatever books he wanted, and of improving himself in composition, of which he much wished to be a master. About this time, when he was only twelve years old, he read Defoe's Essay on Projects,' and Mather's Essay to do Good;' and it is probable that to the ingenious and benevolent sentiments which he found in these works he was indebted for a part of the speculative and humane mode of thinking which afterwards made him so great a benefactor to mankind. He exercised himself in composition with turning prose into verse, and verse into prose, and wrote themes on which he disputed with a young boy of the same age and turn of mind as himself. When he was about sixteen years old, he met with a publication on vegetable diet, which determined him to adopt one of that nature, and he was encouraged to persevere in it, by finding that it enabled him to save for the purchase of books half the money that his brother allowed him weekly for his board, and to gain much of the time for reading which his companions wasted by more protracted and more bewitching repasts than his simple fare occasioned.

"James Franklin, though a worthy man, was yet rough and passionate; and perhaps instigated, unconsciously even to himself, by a little envy of his brother's attainments, he treated him with a degree of harshness frequently carried to blows; under the pretext that the praises lavished on him made him saucy and self-conceited? this conduct Benjamin could not brook, and to it the hatred of tyranny shown by him all the remainder of his life may be in a great measure attributed. At last, impatient of perpetual coercion, he left Boston privately, and with what little money he could raise by selling his only possession, his books, took shipping to New York; where he soon found himself, at the age of seventeen, three hundred miles from home, without a single acquaintance, or even a recommendation to any one, and with only a few shillings in his pocket. It had been his intention to get employment at the printing office of one Bradford in this city; but there proved to be no vacancy in it, and all that the old man could do for him was to give him a letter of introduction to his son, who was a printer likewise at Philadelphia, and who had recently lost his principal workman by death. To Philadelphia Franklin accordingly set off, and arrived there safely, after encountering several difficulties. His first entrance into that beautiful city, of which he was destined at a future period to become the guiding, star, was under circumstances of the most discouraging kind; yet they were evidently recalled to his mind afterwards with peculiar pleasure, chiefly, it may be imagined, from the contrast they afforded to his subsequent fortunes; and the narration of them cannot be more pleasingly given than in his own language, taken from a Memoir of his Life, which he wrote at the request of his son, and which in every page displays the simplicity and candor that formed the leading features of his character. I have been the more particular,' says he, in this description, of my journey, and shall be so of my first entry into that city, that you may in your mind compare such unlikely beginnings with the figure I have since made there. I was in my working dress, my best clothes

coming round by sea. I was dirty from my being so long in the boat: my pockets were stuffed out with shirts and stockings, and I knew no one, nor where to look for a lodging. Fatigued with walking, rowing, and the want of sleep, I was very hungry, and my whole stock of cash consisted in a single dollar, and about a shilling in copper coin, which I gave to the boatmen for my passage. At first they refused it on account of my having rowed, but I insisted on their taking it. Man is sometimes more generous when he has little money than when he has plenty; perhaps to prevent his being thought to have but little. I walked towards the top of the street, gazing about till near Market-street, where I met a boy with a basket of bread. I asked him where he got it; he told me, and I went immediately to the baker's he directed me to. I asked for biscuits, meaning such as we had at Boston: that sort, it seems, was not made at Philadelphia. I then asked for a three-penny loaf, and was told they had none. Not knowing the different prices nor the names of the different sorts of bread, I told him to give me three-pennyworth of any sort. He gave me accordingly three great puffy rolls. I was surprised at the quantity, but took it, and having no room in my pockets, walked off with a roll under each arm, and eating the other. Thus I went up Market-street as far as Fourth-street, passing by the door of Mr. Read, my future wife's father; when she, standing at the door, saw me and thought I made, as I certainly did, a most awkward and ridiculous appearance. Then I turned, and went down Chesnut-street and part of Walnut-street, eating my roll all the way, and coming round, found myself again at Market-street wharf, near the boat I came in, to which I went for a draught of the river water, and being filled with one of my rolls, gave the other two to a woman and her child that came down the river in the boat with us, and were waiting to go farther. Thus refreshed I walked again up the street, which by this time had many clean dressed people in it, who were all walking the same way. I joined them, and thereby was led into the great meeting-house of the Quakers near the market. I sat down among them, and after looking round a while, and hearing nothing said, being very drowsy through labor and want of rest the preceding night, I fell fast asleep, and continued so till the meeting broke up, when some one was kind enough to rouse me. This, therefore, was the first house I was in, or slept in, in Philadelphia.

"In this city Franklin found employment with a printer of the name of Keimer, in whose service he saved money enough to enable him to return well clothed, and in possession of a watch, and five pounds sterling, to Boston, where he met with a kind reception from his parents. After spending some time with them he took a friendly leave of them, and quitted his paternal roof once more, resolving to set out for England, being misled by some tempting offers of Sir William Keith, who had noticed him at Philadelphia, and who promised to lend him money to establish himself in a printingoffice.

"Arrived in England, Franklin had the mortification to find that he had been every way deceived by Sir William Keith, who in fact had neither money nor interest to serve him in any way. Fortunately he got employment at Palmer's, a great printer at that time in Bartholomew Close, and joined an acquaintance of the name of Ralph in a lodging in Little Britain, for which they paid three shillings and sixpence per week.

'Franklin, without friends or advisers, alone, as it might be said, in a vicious metropolis, was now in a situation which would have been fraught with danger to a youth of less temperate habits and ardent desire of improvement; but for a young man who could live chiefly on water-gruel, keep himself healthy and cheerful by unremitting industry, and find his most satisfactory recreation in a book, there was not much to be feared: accordingly this period of his life furnishes more instances of his converting his companions to his own laudable ways of thinking, than being led to imitate any of their evil habits. Sobriety was one of the first reformations he introduced. His fellow-workmen found that 'the water-drinking American,' as they called him, was stronger than they were who drank strong beer; and that he had always money in his pocket, whilst they were always in debt at the public-house. Increased industry was the next amendment: they found he could be cheerful and happy all the week, without making a saint-day of Monday, as is the idle custom of most working people in London; and hence when Saturday came, he had always his full week's wages to receive. Franklin's disposition was so open and kindly, that he generally made himself friends wherever he went, and procured cheaper and better accommodations than one of less engaging manners and propriety of habits could have done. He likewise picked up information from every possible source. He read the countenance and studied the character of every person that came in his way, and

endeavoured to make himself master of some notion in moral or experimental philosophy from every thing that he heard, or that passed before his eyes. Being employed in printing the second edition of Wollaston's Religion of Nature,' he was induced to write A Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain,' as a kind of comment on the principles contained in that celebrated work. The printing of this little essay, though limited to a small number of copies, was reckoned by Franklin among the errata of his life; but at the time it gained him the notice of a few ingenious persons, among whom was Mandeville, the author of the fable of The Bees.' He was likewise promised an opportunity of seeing Sir Isaac Newton, which he ardently desired, but which never occurred. Had that great philosopher known that a young man in London, a journeyman-printer, obscure and friendless, was destined to make a discovery in natural philosophy, so fraught with wonder and beauty as that of the electric property of lightning, the desire for their meeting would assuredly have been mutual, and the object of it effected.

"After remaining in England about eighteen months Franklin returned to Philadelphia, and went into partnership in a printing-office, with a young man of the name of Meredith; who, though kind-hearted, and worthy in many respects, had contracted a habit of drinking, which his father hoped to have cured by associating him with a man of such exemplary temperance; but it was too deeply rooted, and in the end obliged the partnership to be dissolved. Franklin then formed a more useful and more agreeable partnership for life, with the object of his early love, Miss Read; who during his absence, in consequence of his neglect of her, for which he afterwards greatly blamed himself, had unfortunately been persuaded by her parents into a very unhappy marriage, which she subsequently considered herself freed from, by the discovery that her husband, every way unworthy of her, had already a wife living in England.

"It was now that Franklin began to feel the good effects of the industry and frugality which were the grand hinges of his well-doing. 'The industry of that Franklin,' said Doctor Baird, who was in Philadelphia at the time, is superior to any thing I ever knew of the kind: I see him still at work when I go home from the club, and he is at work again before his neighbours are out of bed.' Franklin mentions this eulogium himself, with much pleasure; adding, that in consequence of it he received many offers of credit in the way of business, highly useful to him at such a juncture. The remembrance of this incident may be traced in his useful little tract, called 'Advice to a young Tradesman,' wherein he says, 'The most trifling actions that affect a man's credit are to be regarded. The sound of your hammer at five in the morning, or nine at night, heard by a creditor, makes him easy six months longer.'

"Franklin's active mind now began to display itself in a thousand useful projects. He published a newspaper; formed literary clubs; established a subscription library, which gave birth to similar institutions throughout North America; took up his pen, whenever any question of public interest invited discussion; applied the discoveries of science to the increase of domestic comfort; and what was most important of all, even then conceived an idea of drawing together from all nations a community of rational and virtuous people, who should be united by the easiest bonds of government, and allowed an entire freedom of opinion in all matters of religion. In 1732 he first published his almanack, afterwards so famous under the name of Poor Richard's,' which, abounding with the most admirable lessons of wisdom, and such as it was in the power of every one to practise, was most eagerly bought, not only in America, but also in France and England; and to the simple habits, and the pride of honest inde pendence which it inculcates, the Americans are indebted for much of that spirit of industry which has enabled them so rapidly to raise their country to a pitch of importance high enough to excite the jealousy and alarm the fears of the more refined nations of Europe.

"In 1736 Franklin was chosen clerk of the General Assembly, from which period may be dated his entrance into political life. He next became a justice of the peace, and a legislator, and in the latter capacity was re-elected every year, for ten years, without ever soliciting a vote, or signifying directly or indirectly, any desire of being chosen. 'In 1737 he came to England as agent for the province of Pennsylvania, and remained there five years, cultivating philosophical as well as political enquiries; and when he returned to Philadelphia he received the grateful acknowledgments of his fellow-citizens for his faithful and judicious services.

"Franklin's fame now began to diffuse itself over the world. As a politician his opinion was looked up to as a fiat which could not be disregarded without drawing down cause of repentance; as a philosopher he distinguished himself by the ardor of