HISTORY. we wish success in war, that energizer of History? True, some histories will treat of kings as if they were the sole exponents of a nation's feelings, and this is particularly the case with those of our own country but the lover of history can gather even from these the more important vox populi. It is from this cause that copious information about a short period is more interesting than an abstract or summary of the deeds of centuries: and again, the history of democracies is full of interest, as affording more scope for the development of great individual characters, and the full expression of the vox populi. If then, tales of valour victorious, and empires passing away into nothingness, tales of great men, and of good men, of men that loved their country, and men that loved themselves; if these convey no interest to the reader's mind, what is interest? Do you define it by flood and field?" Many will not read History because they think it dull, or can find but little interest in it. Now the only way to remove this prejudice, (for prejudice I conceive it to be), is to disprove the charge of dullness. The study of bare facts I own may be, and must be dull, but is there not the principle lying within the fact, or combination of facts? Let any one try to read for amusement the history of any period, without entering as it were into the spirit of that period, and I am afraid he will soon tire. Indeed there is no reason to the contrary; the succession of name to name, of fact to fact, can be but poor food for interest, and have but a weak hold on the memory. But the succession of principle to principle, of character to character, has something of life in it; something to which our own times may present an analogy, both with regard to states and indi-“moving accidents of viduals, and therefore profitable. As the only voice from the past History should be interesting, to go back to the past is both interesting, and useful. How shall we of the nineteenth century, be more experienced than the barbarians of the fifth, if we do not gather experience from where it is treasured up? The short time we have lived cannot have given us experience; why not seek it in the life of the world, with its knowledge of nearly six thousand years? Again History will tell us how we are linked by thought and act to our forefathers, as well as by descent. We often think our own age so far superior to bygone times, but History will show us that our opinion has no foundation, that we are not superior to such an extent as an unread judgment would suppose. History undeceives, and surprises us, when it records acts of Greeks or Romans, that must have had their origin in feelings great as England of the nineteenth century can produce, acts which we would admire and think original if they were reacted now. History does much to make us humble. Again, in actual life we look at men the individuals, History teaches us to look at men the brethren, man the class. Is there not a very great interest about the character of these masses of mankind? Do we not immediately choose the nation of the noblest as our hero to whom History has many of these to show, and can ON PUNS. In writing a theme, one of the points usually demanded is what is called Vetus Testimonium, that is to say some additional confirmation from some old authority. Now this ought to be reserved till later in the article, according to the schedule of component parts; yet, on this occasion it appears an easier method of introducing our subject, to insert it at the outset. Our authority indeed is not very old, but sufficiently so for our purpose; and the sentiment which he expressed, is contained in the following words, quoted, as far as our memory serves, from Sidney Smith. Speaking of puns, he says "That they form wit's lowest story, and are as far below true wit as the war of words must neccessarily be below that of ideas, nor ought they to be tolerated in civilized society;" nor does the great lexicographer appear to look upon them in an inestimable light, for he is reported, while inveighing against them, to have asserted, "That the man who would commit a pun, would pick a pocket;" this, however, would be applied with greater justice to plagiarism, but still it will serve to show how very low he rated them. We do not mean to say that there is not such a thing as a good pun, or that it need necessarily be deserving of such a severe criticism; Sheridan, for instance, supplies us with several illustrious exceptions to the rule; take for example his reply, when requested to repay a sum of money that he had borrowed 66 My dear fellow, I would have you to know that it is contrary to my principle to repay the interest, and contrary to my interest to repay the principal;" or again, when at a party, the last bottle being drunk out, the host apologized for having no more Cape to produce, his intreating him not to distress himself, "for if they could not double the Cape, they must go back to Madeira." As Byron says "Poor Sherry, his very dregs are better than the sprightly runnings of other men's wit"! Coleridge, too, seems to have perpetrated many of these attempts at witticism, but we cannot think that he had a very high opinion of their excellence, for read his lines "If that for every pun I shed I should not have a puny shed, In which to hide my punched head." Here he shows very well a great fault of puns, namely, that they, or rather their authors, never stop till they have thoroughly drained their subject; they cannot take the best and choicest and leave the refuse, they resemble rather the fly, that gorges itself on whatever it first alights, than the bee, that sips the choicest honey from the various flowers of fancy. And now, that we have begun to find fault, having no mercy for them, we shall detail the several points in which we think they are reprehensible. In the first place then, so far from being proofs of superior talent, we think that they prove, either that the mind of him who conceives them is incapable of rising to any higher wit, (in which case were they not as well left alone), or that being above the general run of mind, he will not take the trouble to elevate himself to that higher grade of intellect which his powers would enable him to do; and not only, as I said above, is he without judgment as to when to leave off, but he displays his ignorance of times and manners, while seeking applause for himself; for your confirmed punster considers nothing but how he may make his pun, and cares not whether it be good or bad, suitable or mal-apropos, whether it serve to amuse, or prove displeasing to his auditors. It is a pun, with him; that fact out-weighs all other considerations, and he can no more do without it than the habitue of the tavern can forego his daily quantum of stimulants; it is a weak excitement, sufficient to amuse him, without calling forth any exertion of his mental powers; it is made almost as much by ear as by mind, and to think before he produces it would be fatal to its effect. These, then, are the chief reasons which warn one against seeking for celebrity in this line; and there is this further reason why one would eschew the profession of such an art, namely, that the constant seizing at superficialities, and the giving forth straightway whatever comes into the mind, slowly but surely induces habits of careless thought, and materially deteriorates that power of piercing below the surface till we arrive at the true nature of things, as they appear to reason's eye, which every one possesses in a greater or less degree, and which all must acknowledge to be If I but had the most remote suspicion That all who read would follow my decision. But certainly, though some may frown and wink, I must have very many good supporters, All humble individuals, who think Their something is a nothing, and their daughters, Who think that nothing certainly is best, Sing dolce far niente and the rest. I may be venturesome in what I write, I ventured nothing as a fruitful theme, Perhaps my arguments are not Lockæan; Of course you dont know who I am-but then PLAGIARISM. It is considered one of the greatest crimes that can be laid to the charge of a literary man, that he is a plagiarist. If an author of our day once obtains credit for this, he loses much of the favour which he had formerly found in our eyes. The first thing we do upon reading a new book, is to compare it with what we have read before. The first merit we seek is originality; when this is wanting, our minds are instantly prejudiced against the work, and we judge of its worth only by its faults, if the In the severe name of faults be applicable. first place we conceive that the author is worthless, in the second, that he is disingenuous. This is chiefly the case in poetry; in prose, either because it is not so much remarked, or that coincidences in prose, both of thought and expression, are more likely to occur than in verse, little notice, if any, is taken of the fact by the reader. But are we fair in our judgment? I think not; for a great many of the accusations against literary men might be readily explained, if we consider that there are many who are not endowed with a very clear memory; or very clear recollection of the places to which they owe the origin of their knowledge or ideas. It is an acknowledged fact that all our ideas are formed on the model of imbibed notions, if therefore our ideas are never perfectly original, and our thoughts form only new combinations, which are held for original, but which could, if we knew the history of our own life, be traced partially to some foreign source; it is not surprising if many nnwittingly are guilty of Plagiarism. Poets, notwithstanding the dictum of Horace, poeta nascitur, not fit," form their style, to a great extent, from the reading of other poets, whether of their own, or foreign languages. A continual study of great poets must put great ideas into our memories, from which our own ideas come forth, as children very like their parents. It is not Plagiarism wilful and malicious, or even blameable, if an idea is adopted, which a wellread mind suggests, from the treasures which it has laid up. Besides, I suspect that in the long run, the wilful Plagiarist would give himself more trouble in compiling, than any amount of original thought would require. 66 But to take another view of the subject, one of the Roman poets complained of the injustice of our forefathers, in having stolen all our good things, in anticipating us in committing them to paper. But are we to suppose that the brains of our forefathers, or the ancients, were so infinitely more fertile than ours, that the thoughts which have occurred to them, and which they have bequeathed to future generations, as splendid monuments of genius, cannot, or do not, occur to us in an equal degree? Yet if we find any similarity of thought, we quite lay aside the fact that humanity and human affairs are ever the same, and imagine that as there is no limit to thought, and no barrier to the flight of the imagination, so also the combination of thoughts and notions ought in number to be infinite, in relation to one another diversified; but if we were to allow the same licence in this respect to the poets of the present day which we do to those of the past, we should find a material difference in the way we regard them. Virgil is generally considered the second poet of ancient times, (I rank Homer as the first) and till Niebuhr's time, there was no critic of sufficient boldness to impugn his originality, as there was no critic of such deficiency of taste to be able to depreciate his elegance and grace. Yet if we examine the matter, we find that of his three great works, his pastorals were copied from the Idyls of Theocritus, his Georgics from Hesiod, and his Eneid from Homer. And yet we do not find that the ancients undervalued his writings, because of this defect. Again, are we to believe that Shakspeare, who we have reason to think was entirely uneducated, could have copied his ideas, (if he had wished) from Homer, Virgil, or the three great Greek Tragedians? and yet that there are among them infinite number of coinciding expressions, no one can deny. But we have said enough for the time; if we should again be allowed space in the columns of our School paper, we will continue the subject. For the present we have treated only of Poets. It remains to treat of Prose writers. Let no one however, think that we would defend wilful Plagiarism, but rather rescue the innocent from an imputation which frequently rests upon their character as literary men. We thank our very numerous contributors of the last fortnight, particularly" Sir John," whose unre. mitted exertions fully entitle him to a place in our columns, from which his style alone excludes him. We have received many articles, in which reference to the last article in No. XV. is made; individuals fancying they see their own characters glanced at there, which we can assure them is not the case. Crossley and Billington, Printers, Rugby. No. XVIII. ROGERS. THURSDAY, MARCH 4, 1852. Speaking of the festivities on St. Mark's eve:- And in his straw the prisoner turn'd and listen'd, "There is a glorious city in the sea," is too well known to need quoting here. a GENUINE good taste resembles a fine and appropriate accompaniment in music: the sentiment of the song is heightened, and it is not to be even read thenceforth, without an association of pleasure. Rogers' character- The graphic description of Venice beginning, istics, are generally neither impressive nor startling: he has not the high reflective power of Wordsworth, not an inkling of the impassioned force of Byron, neither the lyric vigour of Campbell, nor the chivalrous spirit of Scott. But perfect taste pervades all he has written, shown in the simplicity and unpretending beauty of his language, as well as in the absence of everything offensive in his sentiment. He cares not for laboured long-highest order, being an artist rather than an inwinded epithets, but is content with plain ventor; a faithful delineator, rather than English phraseology: the truth that the dis- creative genius. Probably there is no more tincter and clearer the expression of thought is, striking contrast in the whole range of poetry the more beauty it has, is ever before his eyes. than between his Italy and the fourth canto Obvious as this principle might seem, showy of Childe Harold, and we may be excused for minstrels of this generation are ever apt to dwelling on it longer. The former gives us a violate it by a kind of wordy mysticism, and a just and sweet picture of the beauties and fates of that unhappy land as reflected in the heart vagueness of speech, which perhaps, after a very troublesome sifting, turns out to be either of a lover of nature and society; the latter a bit of false grammar, or the gaudy attire of shows us the same through the medium of a an unintelligible idea. But true poets rather restless self-occupied man, walking to and There is rely on the plain statement, and the reader's fro, seeking rest but finding none." imagination, and hy a simple line or coma wild and melancholy beauty in Harold's parison will produce an effect which finer thoughts, that calls forth our deepest sympathy; terms would greatly weaken. Rogers' single a repose and pleasurable calm in those of lines, though not so perfect as Campbell's, Rogers, that pleases and soothes us. possess a quiet emphasis, which is at times thing of tragic feeling, and a strong personal very happy. interest carries us on with Byron in his pilgrimage, but a quiet attachment, and agreeable companionship lead us to follow the steps of Rogers. A few examples will suffice : "When nature pleased, for life itself was new, And the heart promised what the fancy drew!" Describing St. Helena : "A rock so small That ships have gone and sought it, and returned, · 66 A some But Rogers, it must be owned, often is somewhat tame, and lacks fire and point, though few have written so uniformly well. Among his minor pieces we would especially refer to those he entitles Reflections; we quote one, and the others are equally good: |