Cities he sack'd, and realms that whilom flower'd
In honour, glory, and rule above the best,
He overwhelm'd, and all their fame devour'd,

Consum'd, destroy d, wasted, and never ceas'd,
Till be their wealth, their name, and all opprest,
His face forehew'd with wounds; and by his side
There hung his targe with gnashes deep and wide,
In midst of which depainted there we found
Deadly DEBATE, all full of snaky hair,
That with a bloody fillet was ybound,

Outbreathing nought but discord every where;
And round about were pourtray'd here and there
The hugy hosts; Darius and his power,

His kings, princes, his peers, and all his power!" * &c.

The merit of these descriptions does not require to be pointed out. They seem to me more picturesque, and of a more sombre and sublime cast than those of SPENSER himself. I trust my readers will think they illustrate the point, for which I have introduced them.

To return to Collins. His imagination, if not always quite as moral or as bold as Sackville's, was eminently beautiful and brilliant. In the Ode to the Passions the personifications are exquisitely picturesque, animated, and appropriate; the language is so purely poetical and finished, and the harmony of the numbers is so felicitous, as to leave it without a rival; and indeed without any attempt at rivalry in its own class. +

Dec. 14, 1808.

*Mirror for Magistrates, second edition, 1563. But these lines are extracted by Warton in his History of English Poetry, which I did not recollect when I first began to transcribe them.

Mrs. Barbauld has prefixed an excellent Essay on Collins's Poetry, beore her edition of his Poems, 1797; but in the view which I have taken, I am not aware that I have interfered with it.

No LVII.

On Book-Making.

There cannot be a question, that re-combining the old materials of literature, without any new results, or even any material improvement of the order and method pursued, to which the term Book making has been contemptuously applied, requires discouragement and censure. It is, no doubt, a common practice in these, and has been in all days, since the first invention of printing.

But it is equally certain that the word so understood is very often most grossly misdirected. This blame is often thrown upon volumes where new results arise from the new position of the matter; where research has been exercised in bringing it forward; or at least an active and cultivated memory employed in forming its new arrangement. As books increase, they still generate the necessity of others; and compilers, though not among the higher ranks of authors, are labourers whose services in the fields of literature are indispensible. They are often requisite to do the drudgery even of first gathering together and binding up the sheaves where others have cut the corn.

He, who tells me that he requires no aid to his memory, and that the repetition of any thing which is to be found in print among the books of his library, is absolutely superfluous, must either deem me very stupid, if he hopes to gain my belief, or must allow me to suppose his books very few, and the course of his studies exceedingly limited. I even consider no small

benefit

benefit gained, in many cases, by the addition of a few notes, or a better type and paper.

The mere use of paste and scissars, the jumbling together the disjointed parts of books in a different form, merely by way of disguising the piracy, and for the mere purpose of lucre, is indeed vile and highly reprehensible. And every one must observe daily instances of this contemptible abuse.

If vanity induces a man, who dares not trust the powers of his own mind, to grasp at the fame of authorship, by re-editing the works of others, the passion is at least innocent, and often produces effects useful and laudable. But it is something much better than vanity that frequently generates this exertion. It is often a generous duty; and often a noble desire of a virtuous intellectual occupation in pursuits productive of public instruction or pleasure.

It may be admitted that persons so employed sometimes mistake the value of their materials, and sometimes when they judge rightly of them make a false estimate of the public taste. But for these errors or ill fortunes, no liberal or wise mind will blame their undertakings; nor need they despair that full justice will at length be done them. Time will weigh them in the true balance; and they will find their place according to their worth.

There was a day probably, when old Fuller was confounded by those, who when they get a cant term of censure deal it about them to the right and to the left, and always without discrimination, among the bookmakers of his generation! I am afraid he was not totally without an occasional trait or two of it in some of his numerous works. But his predominant merits

have made his volumes buoyant over all these prejudices. His Worthies; his Church-History; his Abel Redivivus, &c. not only rise in price, but are found to contain large portions of instructive and amusing matter. His vivacity and his learning have surmounted his quaintness; and his diligence has brought together, if not exclusively preserved, numerous minute notices, which they who love to make the past predominate over the present will always highly value. Loyd, the imitator, and in many parts plagiarist, of Fuller, may more properly be called a book-maker; but even his volumes contain many memorials, and remarks, which are now become interesting. I cannot say much for poor Winstanley; but we sometimes see that contemptible scribbler quoted to this day by respectable authors; because he has intermixed here and there a scrap or two of original information.

If books were to be written by none but by men of the first genius; and nothing were to be said that had been said before, I am afraid that the lovers of new publications must be without a rational amusement, and the trades of printers and booksellers be nearly annihilated.

But this is the cant of a set of beings, who are determined to find fault, and whose interest and whose malignity it gratifies to deal in censure.

Dec. 17, 1808.

ART.

ART. XVII. On Arrowsmith's Map; the Highland Roads; and the Caledonian Canal.

A sense of public duty demands the insertion of the following important communication. No one will suspect the Editor of having local or personal prejudices on this subject to gratify.

SIR,

TO THE EDITOR OF CENSURA LITERARIA.

Having lately seen your Miscellany, I read in it two communications from FACT AGAINST PUFF. These contain some severe truths, from the effects of which the Commissioners for Highland Roads and Bridges cannot escape; nor the Scotch nation claim exemption. I trouble you with this letter in order to explain to FACT the probable reason why Arrowsmith's Memoir has not been published; and to communicate some important information to the Commissioners, on a subject of which they appear to be as ignorant, as of the mode employed for constructing the great Map from Roy's justly celebrated Survey.

It is very well known, that in the Memoir there was a description of a new discovery by Mr. Arrowsmith, which was neither more nor less than that of a method of finding the variation of the magnetic needle. It is very probable that the Menioir was to be made subservient to the annunciation of the discovery; for on its being submitted to the revisal of scientific men about two years ago or more, they pronounced Mr. Arrowsmith's lucubrations to be little if at all better than nonsense. I do not know that Mr. Arrowsmith is

yet