small, though fertile spot. It induces a passion for reading as an end, and not as a means-merely to satisfy an appetite, and not to strengthen the system, and enrich the powers of original thinking. It makes learned men, and not wise men. Hobbes, on being asked why he did not read more? answered, if I read as much as other men, I should know as little. - True it is, that for the purpose of supplying the place of constant companions, of suggesting never failing subjects of reflection, and of exercising and gratifying the imagination, a few choice and venerable authors are amply sufficient. "Make," says Bishop Watson, "Bacon then, and Locke, and why should I not add, that sweet child of nature, Shakspeare, your chief companions through life, let them be ever upon your table, and when you have an hour to spare, spend it upon them; and I will answer for their giving you entertainment and instruction as long as you live." The practice of these times, it is needless to say, is as unlike that here recommended, as it can well be.-Never was education so common as at present-never were books so commonly dispersed, so multifariously read. We present a spectacle of what, perhaps, was never before seen in any age, certainly neither Greek nor Roman, that of a whole nation, employing nearly all its leisure hours, from the highest to the lowest rank, in reading-we have been truly called a READING PUBLIC. The lively Greeks, were not a reading nation-they were a hearing and a talking people-they fed the mind, through the ear, and not through the eye; historians and poets were not so much read as heard-Homer was recited by rhapsodists-Herodotus read his history at the Olympic game-the tragedies of Sophocles and Euripides were at stated times the objects of sight and hearing. The philosopher who wished to enlighten his countrymen, and circulate his peculiar opinions, did not so frequently write as lecture-he established a school, and his benches were daily crowded by a people who carried on no trade -who lived on the tributes of subject nations, or on the industry of their slaves. The business of the nation was transacted in public, by means of orators, who addressed the assembled citizenseach man had his mind to make up-and thus they became fond of disputing. Their social hours were spent in the open air-in their groves, gardens, and porticoes-where they busily reviewed the operations of their generals and admirals, canvassed the merits of opposing orators, or listened to the reasoning of philosophers, upon such subjects as the soul, the creation of the universe, its duration, its formation, its sustaining causes, and the purposes of its various parts. Thus they became a thinking, talking, enlightened nation -free of speech, brilliant in wit, restless, active, boasting, audacious, and arrogant-but they were not a reading nation. For one library, the Greeks had a hundred theatres for plays, music, spectacles-groves and academies for disputation-forums for orators-and gymnasia and palæstræ, for exercise and conversation. All other languages but their own, they despised-all other nations were accounted and called barbarians. The energetic Greek, with his person perfect, and formed in the finest mould of nature -his mind filled with the noblest shapes of ideal beauty-his tongue nimble to speak the most melodious of languages, with all his faculties about him, critical, exact, and sensitive-filled with the spirit of enjoyment that proceeds from health, fine climate, free government, and a beautiful country-was raised so high above other men, that he looked with contempt and derision, upon the rugged Scythian, the enervated Persian, the depraved Egyptian, the savage and untutored Italian. Thus it was, that all history was uninteresting to them, but what was Greek; that which was not Greek, was to them without the pale of civilization-and this is one main reason why the Greeks, in the time of their prosperity, (for we speak not of the Greeks in their dotage, when "the last of the Greeks" had died) read so little-what related to other nations they cared not for; what related to themselves, it was their constant business to listen to. The Romans of the higher ranks paid more attention to, and depended more for their amusement upon reading than the Greeks; Homer and all the Greek authors, were their constant study. We begin to hear, in their times, of the student's solitary lamp and midnight oil-but still literature was confined to the upper ranks. "The Romans conquered the world without the help of books, and lost it after they knew the use of them." The middle ages are proverbially dark-it was the torpid time for the great authors of antiquity-like bats and moles, they slept away this winter of literature, in the cold and gloomy cells of monasteries, till the dawning of better times shot revivifying light into these recesses of ignorance and superstition. The invention of paper in the eleventh, and of printing in the fifteenth century, are as cheering to the lovers of humanity, as the sea-birds and sea-weeds, signs of approaching land, are to the wearied and despairing navigator, who is darkly tracking an unknown and pathless ocean. The fertile and luxurious crop of modern literature then appeared above the earth -the richness of the soil, which had lain fallow for so long a time, during which it had only borne the rank weeds of scholastic subtlety, mingled indeed with the wild but romantic flowers of chivalrous feudality, as well as the greenness and freshness of the productions themselves, all encouraging animating hopes of an abundant harvest. Since that time, books have become a common and current coin; every city and every town has its mint-they are almost numberless. A catalogue of all the books that have been printed, would of itself fill a little library. The knowledge of their external qualities, and the adventitious circumstances attending their formation or history, has become a science-professors devote their lives to it with an enthusiasm not unworthy of a higher calling-they have earned the name of bibliomaniacs. Vast collections of books are esteemed the pride and glory of the countries or cities fortunate enough to possess them. The Vatican boasts its millions-the Laurentian, Ambrosian, and other libraries of Italy, the Bibliotheque du Roi at Paris, the enormous collection at the British Museum, our university and college libraries, particularly the Bodleian, while they are proud monuments of the ingenuity and all-reaching, all-fathoming mind of man; yet must strike the heart of the student that enters them with despair, should he aim at attaining universal knowledge through the medium of books. Life is too short for wading through many of the sets of ten folios, such as the Opera of the old scholars used to be collected in, unlike the diminutive quartos and octavos of these book-making times, Not two strong men th' enormous weight could raise- Fortunately it is not necessary, though at the same time, a general acquaintance with all that has been written, with the reigning pursuits of different ages, with the different modes and different degrees of talent, with which particular individuals and schools have followed them, are not only highly gratifying to a liberal curiosity, but essentially necessary to the accomplished scholar. No study is more interesting, and few more useful, than the history of literature, which is, in fact, the history of the mind of man. Criticism, which, when able and just, is always pleasing, we shall combine with copious and characteristic extracts, analyses, and biographical accounts, so as in some measure to supply the dearth of works on the history of literature in our own language; for it is to be lamented, that except the unfinished work of Warton, and a few detached Essays, we have no regular history of English poetry-and that of the prose writers, their language, style, spirit, and character, there exists no account at all. A deficiency as striking occurs with respect to the literature of neighbouring nations: unless from native or foreign works, we are entirely in the dark, respecting the national literature of Spain, Germany, Italy, even France, and the northern nations. Mr. Berington, indeed, has done good service to this department, by his "Literary History of the Middle Ages," but his subject was too extensive for the space he has allowed it to occupy, and perhaps required more research, combined with a philosophical and generalizing power of * We must not, however, omit to mention, that this department is eminently indebted to the elegant productions of Dr. Drake, his "Essays on Periodical Literature," and other Works, mind, than often falls to the lot of a single individual. His sketch of Arabian literature is, however, particularly valuable, and opens to the view a rich and dazzling mine of unexplored genius. That Arabian learning should be extensively cultivated is, perhaps, as little to be desired as expected-though we promise ourselves a favourable reception to an attempt to convey to the English reader, an accurate idea of the spirit of the extraordinary writers who flourished in Spain and other countries, at a time when the rest of Europe was immersed in darkness-criticisms upon whom, accompanied by a selection of translated extracts, will occasionally form a part of our future labours. The Moorish authors in Spain were succeeded by no unworthy descendants. Spanish literature is far from being familiar, to the generality even of the scholars of this country-Cervantes is highly and duly appreciated-a few poets also have met their deserved reputation, but the animated, clear, and spirited Spanish writers in prose, are comparatively unknown. The beautiful ballads in which the Spaniards perhaps excel even the Scotch and English, as well as the higher departments of poetry, with the prose works of fiction, are likely to afford a number of new and interesting articles to our Critical Miscellany. The literature of Germany, - Italy, and France, is in a general way well known to the majority of those who devote their attention to literature; though we have the presumption to hope we shall lead some to a more particular acquaintance with many delightful companions, whom it is intended to introduce to their notice. Some whose names have been bruited abroad, but whose qualities have been mistaken or misunderstood-some who, though not pleasing in the whole, and undesirable as inmates and partners of the society of our most retired and sacred hours, yet have their bright passages and inspired moments, the spirit of which may be caught and transferred;-others again whose merits no kind hand has yet unveiled and presented to the public view, but who, like some sequestered star And adds a jewel to the crown of night.-MONTGOMERY. The literature, however, of our own country, the most rich, varied, and comprehensive of any in the world, and replete with more interest to the English reader than any other, will have peculiar claims on our attention-and to it will the pages of the "Retrospective" be zealously devoted ;-not, however to that portion of it whose sole recommendation is its antiquity, although we shall avail ourselves of such bibliographical information as will in any manner illustrate the history of art, or the grand, though slow and silent, march of mind. * * * The Tragedies of the last Age, considered and examined by the Practice of the Ancients, and by the Common Sense of all Ages, in a Letter to Fleetwood Shepheard, Esq. by MR. RYMER, Servant to their Majesties. Part I. London, 1692. Second Edition. A short View of Tragedy; its original Excellency, and Corruption, with some Reflections on Shakespear, and other Practitioners for the Stage. By MR. RYMER, Servant to their Majesties. London, 1695. These are very curious and edifying works. The author (who was the compiler of the Fadera) appears to have been a man of considerable acuteness, maddened by a furious zeal for the honour of tragedy. He lays down the most fantastical rules for the composition which he chiefly reveres, and argues on them as 'truths of holy writ.' He criticises Shakspeare as one invested with authority to sit in judgment on his powers, and passes on him as decisive a sentence of condemnation, as ever was awarded against a friendless poet by a Reviewer. We will select a few passages from his work, which may be consolatory to modern authors, and useful to modern critics. The chief weight of Mr. Rymer's critical vengeance is wreaked on Othello. After a slight sketch of the plot, he proceeds at once to speak of the moral, which he seems to regard as of the first importance in tragedy. Whatever rubs or difficulty may stick on the bark, the moral use of this fable is very instructive. First, this may be a caution to all maidens of quality, how, without their 'parents' consent, they run away with blackamoors. Secondly, this may be a warning to all good wives, that they look well to 'their linen. Thirdly, this may be a lesson to husbands, that be'fore their jealousy be tragical, the proofs may be mathematical.' Our author then proceeds happily to satirize Othello's colour. He observes, that 'Shakespear was accountable both to the eyes and to the ears.' On this point we think his objection is not without reason. We agree with an excellent modern critic in the opinion, that though a reader may sink Othello's colour in his mind, a spectator can scarcely avoid losing the mind in the colour. But Mr. Rymer proceeds thus to characterize Othello's noble account to the Senate of his whole course of love. This was 'the charm, this was the philtre, the love-powder that took the 'daughter of this noble Venetian. This was sufficient to make 'the blackamoor white, and reconcile all, though there had been a 'cloven foot into the bargain. A meaner woman might as soon be 'taken by Aqua Tetrachymagogon.' The idea of Othello's elevation to the rank of a general, stings |