The Dialogues themselves are barbarous and antiquated, and the Latin of a style the least useful possible to an English student. Yet if the work is still to be read, it is desirable that it should be possessed in the best form extant, and we advise all who are too much attached to its ancient absurdities to discard it altogether, to substitute Mr. Milligan's edition for those usually cir culated. In this, much industry and accuracy are perceptible; every important quantity is marked, and a copious vocabulary appended. There are also short notes in explanation of the more difficult phrases, and the English version which ge nerally accompanies the text has been omitted. Mr. Milligan's labours deserve to be bestowed upon a better author. Pictures of the Past. By Thomas Bryd son. This is a very pleasant garland of wild flowers, arranged with taste and judgment. The Author will probably never occupy a place in the foremost rank of his literary contemporaries; but as one of the poetæ minores of his day, he bids fair to earn a very respectable name. The principal characteristics of his poetry are a spirit in unison with the gentle and beautiful of the moral, as well as the material world, and a correct versification. We should select as pieces most to our taste, "The Cave of Death," "Lines composed during a Night Walk," "Sunset in the Isle of Mull," and "The Churchyard." The merit of these and several other little pieces is sufficient to justify our anticipation of higher exertions on a future day; and we are particularly pleased with the total absence of that affectation which at present distinguishes so many authors in the lighter departments of literature. Mr. Brydson has begun well, and we hope his future course will correspond with the expectations which most of his readers will be induced to form from their first acquaintance with his name and productions. The Knights of the Round Table. By the Author of the Diversions of Hollycote. We remember some little friends of ours (and children are better judges of books than elderly persons are willing to admit) being so pleased with this accomplished and amiable lady's former works, that we had determined on presenting them with "The Knights of the Round Table," as an excellent new year's gift. We regret to say that after a careful perusal of the pretty and ele. gant volume, we changed our opinion. Two of the stories, "The Curate's Tale" and "High Life" are objectionable; the first because of the detailed flirtation between Charlotte and Captain Spencer, and its horrid termination, and the second from the picture it presents of juvenile intrigue. We are not of the number of those who believe that descriptions of vice should be given in order that vice may be avoided. We would shield our children, our daughters more especially, from the knowledge that such things are, rather than give them the information even with a view of deterring them from its consequences. While we blame upon these grounds two of the wellwritten tales in the volume, it is but justice to bestow unqualified approbation upon the others. "The Three Westminster-Boys," is replete with wisdom, good counsel, and interest. "The Spitalfields Widow" is full of simple pathos and deep feeling; and "When I was a Little Girl" must be relished by young and old. The Invasion, 3 vols. By the Author of The Collegians." The author of "The Invasion" has contributed to our literature some of its best and most interesting productions; and they have been justly classed amongst the more successful of modern times. It is therefore with regret that we feel the impossibility of praising this, his last work, in which we think he has mistaken his forte. A genuine antiquarian will doubtless feel anxious to know how the inhabitants of Ireland looked, dressed, and paraded in the time of Constantine, but novels are not, and ought not to be written for antiquarians only-they are the property of general readers, the staple commodity of society, and in these literary times are as necessary as a new hat, or a modern turban. A work, therefore, of which every third or fourth page is a dry detail of unmeaning scenes, or a vocabulary of hard words, of which not one in ten can comprehend the meaning, is a dead letter to the novelloving world, and cannot be profitable either to the author's reputation, or the bookseller's pocket. We do not wish to depreciate for a moment Mr. Griffin's extraordinary research, or graphic powers; but we would have them exercised upon subjects which can be generally understood and appreciated, and not confined to one particular class of readers. The Works of Lord Byron, with his Letters, and Journals, and his Life. By Thomas Moore, in 14 volumes. Vol. I. Our only duty is to speak of the "getting up" of this volume-we can do so in terms of the most unqualified praise. It is a beautiful specimen of typography; corrected with extreme care, illustrated by two exquisite works of art, and published at a price so exceedingly low, as to be marvellous even in this age of cheap books. We shall hereafter find occasion for a longer notice. At present we content ourselves and hope to satisfy the publisher, by recommending it as a valuable, indeed a necessary addition to every library, whether large or small, throughout the kingdom. Sacred Imagery, or Illustrations of the Principal Figures of Speech from the Bible. By Joseph Fincher, Esq. This little volume is exceedingly well designed. Its principal object is to convey instruction to the young, but from it the old may learn wisdom. The compiler has carefully and judiciously collected the most striking and beautiful passages of the Old and New Testament with a view to lay before his readers so many examples of the prin cipal figures of speech. A more attractive publication has rarely issued from the press, or one more likely to improve both the heart and mind of the youthful reader. He will be allured by the sublimity and beauty of the poetry to study and weigh the important precepts which the language conveys. Mental Recreation. Mankind, we fear, are seldom much assisted in forming their resolutions by apophthegms and precepts. These are often used as the justifiers, bat very unfrequently as the instigators of action. Yet, although the practical utility of such a work may easily be overrated, a collection of the va rious pointed sayings and sagacions remarks of the most illustrious philosophers and statesmen, is both a curious and interesting work, as it shows in what light those have considered the various workings of the human heart, who have been best acquainted with its inmost recesses. In many instances, also, a laconic saying is a key to the true mental character of him who utters it, and discovers all the various peculiarities of his moral disposition, as accurately as a well-finished miniatare may comprise within an indefinitely small compass the several features of any individual countenance. The author of this compilation has used great industry in selecting what is most valuable among the precepts of the sages of antiquity, as well as those of philosophers of a more modern date. Cicero, Epictetus, and Seneca, Lord Bacon, Lavater, and Montaigne, have contributed together with many more to his selection, which is various and extensive, and may serve to ocenpy a vacant hour to much better purpose, than many of the trifling publications of the day. fection has decorated the tomb of one who has certainly given indications of a mind which, if its powers had been matured, might have given birth to something above mediocrity. Elements of Chemistry. Part the First. Introductory treatises upon this science are already so numerous, that it might be supposed but little opportunity could be afforded for ori. ginality or improvement, in presenting its elementary principles to public view. This, however, is by no means the case. Most of the works alluded to are by far too superficial, and often unsatisfactory. They present indeed a kind of candied philosophy to that vitiated taste, which is only pleased with what is productive of dazzling effect, and easy of comprehension; they detail a few popular and amusing experiments, but they do not go at once to the essential causes, to which the effects they describe are attributable. The anonymous author of the present volume has proceeded upon a different principle. He first considers the properties of the great chemical agents, attraction, heat, light, and electricity, and purposes at a future period to enter into a more detailed account of the operations of practical chemistry. We hope he will meet with sufficient encouragement to animate him in the completion of his task, the more especially as the language, in which he discourses upon his subject, is worthy of its importance. We do not approve of the The Last of the Sophis, a Poem. David, plan of making philosophy talk like an infant, a Poem. There is little in these poems to require or deserve a lengthened notice. We cannot find in them any indications of that superior talent, which alone would justify us in encouraging their authors to continue that course of literary occupation they have adopted. Poetry has indeed a fascinating influence, but how few are there among the num bers who contend for its laurels, who do not subsequently in the hour of disappointment bitterly regret the time they have bestowed upon this most seductive and fallacious of pursuits. We warn the authors of the above productions against an error into which so many of the young and imaginative have fallen; and in so doing believe we are conferring upon them the best service which it is in our power to render. Agrippa Posthumus, a Tragedy, with other Poems. By the late Matthew Weavas, Esq. Agrippa Posthumus is the production of a writer, whom a lingering illness removed from the career he had just entered upon, at the early age of twenty-nine. His brother has edited his posthumous poems, and in his preface speaks of the attainments and disposition of his departed relative in a manner which does great credit to his feelings. We decidedly think he has formed somewhat too high an estimate of the specimens before us, but in such a case as this, a rigid exercise of judgment can hardly be expected, or indeed justified. Flattery, it is true, cannot soothe the "dull cold ear of death," and the voice of censure is equally powerless in effect; but we remember that the feelings of the living are often keenly sensitive as to all that concerns the deceased, and should be unwilling to take a single leaf from the wreath with which their af even when she is intended to be universally heard. Such a method is an inversion of the principle of instruction, and causes the science intended to be explained to descend degraded from its high eminence, instead of raising the mind of the student to the level of the object of his contemplation. But while the anthor has avoided too weak and trifling a diction, he has also shunned the opposite and no less objection. able extreme. His treatise is a medium between diffuseness and obscurity, a too familiar and a true abstruse method of explanation. We look forward with interest to the appearance of the Second Part of his work, which we confidently expect will be no less worthy than the first of our praise and best recommendation. The Daughter of Jeptha, a Poem. By a Gentleman of Stoke. There is a vein of gentle and subdued feeling running through the whole of this unpretending work, which, combined with a chaste and at times elegant versification, gives us reason to think the author a person by no means slightly imbued with the qualities which constitute the poetical temperament. There are, it is true, no passages of striking grandeur or highly-wrought pathos to be found in it; but there is a dignity of sentiment, a graceful melancholy, and a well-sustained equality in the whole, which give it such an interest as a mere view of its detached parts would not prepare us to expect. In short, if we may be allowed to criticise in metaphor, it resembles neither a mountain cataract, nor a sparkling river, but a half concealed and gentle stream, which pursues its course with an equable motion, and utters its music only for those who recline upon its banks to listen. The writer, whoever he is, has but little reason, from a feeling of diffidence, to remain anonymous. Epistles to a Friend in Town, and other Poems. By Chandos Leigh, Esq. New Edition with Additions. Though we have often had occasion to speak of the talent manifested in the poems of Mr. Leigh, we cannot allow the present new edition to pass without, at least, giving a specimen or two of the additions which now, for the first time, appear. Our readers are aware of the opinion we entertain of the merits of Mr. Leigh, whose style is constructed rather in the school of Dryden and Pope than of the present race of poets; and it is this adherence to the taste of those fine writers which gives to the effusions of Mr. Leigh that air of freshness and sincerity which have delighted so many in common with ourselves. PROGRESS OF KNOWLEDGE. "Hundreds, where one but formerly essay'd, The "Georgics of the mind," so widely spread, To this let us add the following beautiful little song: A FINE MORNING. "Another morn will rise With splendour on its wings, The earth, they reappear: Our hearts exulting cheer. Then, gentle Morn, awhile Flowers freshly gemm'd with dew Thy radiance doth unfold. Then why as soon as born Wilt thou the world forsake?" Geological Sketches and Glimpses of the Ancient Earth. An elegant and happy attempt to convey the first principles of a science growing rapidly in popularity and importance, in so familiar a way as to be level to the capacities of young persons. As a kind of introduction to the study of Geology this work may not be unworthy the careful perusal even of persons of riper years. None write so well for children as women, for none understand so well the calibre of youthful intellect, or can better estimate the difficulties which most commonly present themselves on the first efforts of the reasoning faculties. The elegantly executed book before us deserves to take its place among the best endeavours that have been made to popularize the various branches of natural science. To such works we shall ever be ready to pay the tribute of our approval. "Suffer little children to come unto me and forbid them not," seems to us to be the language of true philosophy as well of true religion. Poetical Ephemeras. The name of this volume of verse is modest and well-chosen. There are not many of the tuneful brethren who sing for eternity. The number of immortal bards is few, very few, in any age; but never has their paucity been so remarkable as in the present matter-of-fact and too prosaic times. Yet of versifiers there is still good store; and there still issues from the press a copious stream of song, deficient indeed in the strength and fire of true poesy, but nathless elegant, and smooth, and meriting well that ephemeral admiration which is all in its humility it exacts from the critic. James Brown deserves as large a share of that admiration as we have ever bestowed upon any poet of the same elevation on the muse's hill, He has taste, fancy, melody, and a diction pure, various, and beautiful. He has more-feelings gentle and warm, and a mind over which religion has shed its sweet influence. Though he has struck his lyre beyond the Tweed, he has not, as might be expected, attuned either his verse or his tone of thinking to the manner of Burns. His vein is his own; he treads in a flowery little path of his own choosing; and few will read his lays without confessing with us that he treads it with a bard-like step. THE DRAMA. COVENT-GARDEN THEATRE. LORD F. L. GOWER'S DRAMA OF "CATHERINE OF CLEVES."-After a considerable delay, caused by the protracted illness of Mr. Kemble, Lord Gower's tragic drama has at length been produced; and we do not hesitate to say, that, in point of execution, it is a work highly creditable to the taste, the judgment, and the talent of its writer. It would, now-a-days, be an unmeaning sneer to say that "Catherine of Cleves" is a clever production "for a Lord." It is a clever production for any one; and we shrewdly doubt if any other English writer (of dramas) is capable of extracting so effective a result from the same materials. It has, however, one "original sin"-its existence. Its error is that it is. Why a writer-and more especially why an amateur writer-who could produce such a work as" Catherine of Cleves," should produce it, is more than we can divine. Luckily, however, this kind of divination does not fall within the circle of our duties. We are called upon to say what a thing is, not why it is; and we proceed to do so accordingly. All the world is aware of the long and bitter controversy that exists in Paris between the Classicists and the Romanticists -a controversy that never can be decided, for the simple reason, that the combatants are at loggerheads, not about a thing, but a woord-a mere word, too, as distinguished from most other words, which are things. The Romanticists desire to know whether a species of drama may not be constructed, and why such a species of drama may not be constructed, which shall affect the imagination and sensibilities of the spectator in a similar manner, and to an equal degree, with those to which the Classicists adhere, without being written after the same pattern, and conducted in conformity with the same (arbitrary) rules-those of unity, of time, and place, rhymed endings to the verse, &c. The Romanticists ask these questions in the face of the innumerable pieces which nightly crowd the theatres of their Boulevards with admiring and delighted spectators; and they answer them by constructing pieces differing in no particular from those which they have so long despised, or pretended to despise, under the contemned title of melo-drama, except in their being three times as long, ten times as dull, and not half so natural. This is the question between the Romanticists and the Classicists; and this question M. Dumas, a clever writer in other respects, imagines himself, and is declared by his friends, to have finally settled, by the production of a certain tragedy in prose, (a contradiction in Feb.-VOL. XXXVI. NO. CXXXIV. terms by-the-by,) called "Henri Trois." And this question Lord Gower really has settled, by reducing and pruning away the exuberances, and monstrosities, and extravagances of the said "Henri Trois," adding a little passion and a little poetry of his own, and making it into what M. Dumas might naturally enough (if we did not know otherwise) have been supposed to have expanded it from-a very clever, interesting, and effective melo-drama, which, had it been produced at a minor theatre, and by actors of minor pretensions, would have had, and deserved a run of popular favour; but which, as it is, will be, we fear, laid aside in a week, and forgotten before this record of it reaches the reader's eye. Once more expressing our mingled surprise and regret, that, having determined on the laudable, nay, in these days, the almost patriotic task, of writing a tragic drama for the stage, Lord Gower should let his purpose languish into this half accomplishment of it, we shall briefly notice the drama itself, and the manner in which it was performed, merely premising, that the complicated plot of the original has been reduced to perfect simplicity in the adaptation, indeed to a greater degree of simplicity than the length of the drama and paucity of the incidents will bear. The opening scenes of the drama take place in the dwelling of Ruggieri, an Italian knave, a creature of the execrable QueenMother, Catherine of Medicis. Ruggieri is a pretended astrologer, to whom the denizens of the dissolute court of Henri Trois resort for various purposes of intrigue or superstition; and here the Queen-Mother, in order to forward a deep design of her own, contrives to convey, in her sleep. Catherine of Cleves, wife of the Duc de Guise, her object being to further and foster a secret passion between the Duchess and St. Megrin, the favourite of Henry. Her plot succeeds to the uttermost, so far as relates to the lovers; but it also brings their passion under the cognizance of the lady's husband, who forthwith insists on his wife laying a trap for her lover, by making an assignation with him. The lover, of course, attends to the invitation, is caught, and killed; the lady, in spite of her innocence, swallows poison; the husband repents, and the curtain falls. It must not be supposed, from the brevity of this sketch, that the scenes to which it refers are bare of interest. On the contrary, several of them are wrought out with a true knowledge of effect, a considerable degree of skill and taste in the rare and difficult art of constructing dramatic, or we must K rather say, melo-dramatic dialogue, and a very creditable amount of that kind of passion (meaning thereby natural human emotion under exciting circumstances, but in all cases falling short or wide of the poetical) which should go to the concoction of a clever melo-drama. The scene in which De Guise compels his wife to write the letter, by (when all other expedients fail) crushing her delicate arm with his mailed hand, is written with great dramatic tact, so far as relates to dialogue; but its effect is, in some degree, lost by the point on which the scene turns (that of the bodily pain inflicted on the Duchess) not being made sufficiently clear to the spectator, so that the cause of her yielding is not known till its ill effect has taken place. Moreover, the cause itself is altogether undramatic ; because, to understand and feel the force and truth of it, requires not merely an acquired, as opposed to an intuitive, knowledge of human nature, but a process of thought to apply that knowledge. The other principal scene, where the same person, who has just yielded to bodily pain that which the prospect of death could not force from her, bears unshrinkingly a tenfold portion of it, by thrusting her arm into the rings of the bolt, in order to bar the entrance of her husband till his intended victim has escaped-this scene is open to the same objection. It is true to nature, but its truth is not of that kind which the acted drama demands; it does not appeal to the instinctive knowledge that we inherit through the passions and affections, but to that which we gain by experience and observation. For the same reason both the incidents, though precisely adapted to the class of drama to which this belongs-the modern melo-drama-are wholly beneath the dignity (we use the term for want of a better) of the true tragic drama, to which, after all, we suspect this work aspires. In fact, the mind may be tortured to the utmost pitch of human bearing, or even conception, without destroying that poetical effect which can never be dissevered from "tragedy," properly so called; because, if that effect be dissevered, the result is no longer tragedy. But a positive and visible torture of the body is wholly at variance with that tone of feeling (in the spectator, we mean,) which tragedy seeks, and is bound to excite. The point is a curious and interesting one; but any farther discussion of it would lead us far beyond our limits. We have little to say on the acting of this drama. The part of the Duchess, by Miss Kemble, included passages of great delicacy, and others of real passion and power -more, we mean, than was necessarily included in the Author's developement of the part; and, as a whole, we have not, for a long time, been so entirely satisfied with any performance by Miss Kemble, who, though capable of rising to the height of almost any part that may be assigned her, is not capable of making much out of lit.le, which is the great test of genius in an actor. The only scene, however, which called forth her full powers was the last, which she performed with an admirable and extraordinary mixture of judgment and force. Mr. Kemble played the gallant and chivalrous St. Megrin with little evidence of the ill effects of his late severe indisposition, unless it was to be found in an imperfect knowledge of the words of his part. The little part of the Duchess's Page was performed by Miss Taylor with great liveliness, intelligence, and grace-a grace, however, not "beyond the reach of art," which latter is what Miss Taylor might have attained, if she had not been too early taught to rest satisfied with the shadow. The other characters require no particular mention. We must not take leave of this drama without stating, that it has impressed us with a higher opinion of Lord Gower's talents than any of his previous produc tions. DRURY LANE THEATRE. "MY OWN LOVER."-A musical drama has been produced at Drury Lane, under the above title, and has met with some success. It has little of truth or force in its characters; still less of novelty in the invention of its incidents; no skill at all in the construction or developement of its plot; and less than no merit in the dialogue which holds it together: and yet, notwithstanding all these negations of merit and attraction, the piece is lively and amusing-and for the simple reason that it is full of bustle and incident. We hope the hint will be accepted and turned to account by those of our dramatic writers (if such there be) who are capable of supplying the desiderata which are alone wanted in the present case to make it a highly attractive production. The truth is, that the reply of the orator would be infinitely more just in relation to the comic drama than it is to oratory; its first, second, and third requisites are ACTION: in the absence of which all other qualities are unavailing, and in its presence all others may be, in a great degree, dispensed withso far, we mean, as mere momentary amusement is concerned. The scene, plot, and mode of developement in "My Own Lover," are all Spanish," except that the neverfailing Spanish skill and ingenuity are wholly wanted in putting together the materials, and in disentangling them again. There is also the Spanish indifference as to consistency of character and sentiment, especially in the females, and the worse than Spanish indifference as to the moral tone |