PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION. Book I. Preliminary Observations. The terms Barbarism and Civilization have been adopted to designate two very opposite conditions in the circumstances of mankind. Each of these conditions, and particularly the latter, may be varied indefinitely in degree, although the poverty of human language prevents our applying appropriate appellations to the respective points of difference. A society is usually con sidered as partaking of the blessings of civilization, soon after it has ceased to depend altogether for subsistence upon the casual bounty of unassisted nature, and commenced to draw regular supplies from a cultivated soil. The Aborigines of New Holland afford an instance of a people existing in a state of barbarism; the inhabitants of the Friendly Islands had, at the time of the first visit of our countrymen in the last century, already entered within the pale of civilization. The Mexicans, in the age of Hernando Cortes, had erected towns, instituted a standard religion, or rather superstitious creed, and made some advances in the arts: they had, therefore, arrived at a higher degree in the scale of improvement. One still superior is that of the Chinese of the present day, who have established a regular system of jurisprudence, and made some efforts towards the cultivation of the arts and sciences. Ancient Carthage, besides these advantages, possessed a considerable navy, had embarked widely in foreign commerce, and interested herself in the concerns and policy of neighbouring states: long before her final destruction by her great rival, she had attained a higher rank in the order of civilization than the Chinese have yet reached. All these acquirements were subsequently surpassed by the republic of Venice-principally, if not altogether, in consequence of the benign influence of Christianity, which, in spite of the amazing difficulties it had to encounter, and the impurities which had mingled themselves with its holy rites, had already succeeded in ameliorating the general condition of the Roman world. The reformation of some of the abuses of religion, and the natural disposition to advance in the progress of improvement, have since produced still more important effects in society: these effects may be discerned in estimating the moral acquirements of several of the existing European communities; but in Great Britain, and the United States of America, where a nearer approximation to a perfect system of rational freedom has been effected, civilization may be confidently said to have attained a point which the world has never before witnessed. Whatever doubts may be entertained with respect to the amount of improvement which may still be expected, no one, whose mind is not perverted by false estimates of the past, and gloomy but unfounded anticipations of the future, will dispute the probability of future advances in the grand work of civilization. Experience, and an enlightened theory, equally confirm the assurance, that not only will the people, placed in the lowest of the scales to which we have adverted, pass on successively, although, according to circumstances, more or less rapidly, to the highest, but that those who have already attained that fortunate eminence are labouring successfully in the road to much greater preferment. A candid observer of human nature, and a thorough convert to the sacred truths of Christianity, well knows, that, in the present stage of existence, there must be an impassable limit beyond which perishable man must not hope to soar: he will stop infinitely short of perfection, after the progressive improvement of innumerable ages; but vast and spacious indeed is the room between our highest present attainments and that necessary limit. It is to that vacant chasm, that place of superior enjoyment, which man is invited and destined by his benevolent Creator to occupy, to which we must be understood to direct the attention of our readers, and not to the forbidden ground, which is the peculiar property of a better and immortal world. Societies in a state of civilization differ from each other by numerous impalpable degrees. Peculiarities of climate and manners help to multiply the various shades of difference; but there are, common to all nations, some of a broader or more prominent cast, which are therefore capable of general description. A brief sketch of the most striking transitions in the progress of civilization, as they have been exemplified in the history of this globe, or which, upon an application of the past to the future, appear likely hereafter to occur, is required to support the gratifying inferences to be deduced, in the sequel, from the views we have been led to entertain of this highlyinteresting subject. To the earliest ages, the terms Barbarism and Civilization, in the sense in which we usually accept them, do not apply. When man had but recently proceeded from the hands of his Maker, he enjoyed the benefits of a direct revelation, which equally screened him from the evils of ignorance, and precluded a reliance for moral improvement upon the mere exertion of his natural powers. In the arts and sciences he was no doubt inferior to his cultivated descendants of a distant period; but his knowledge of the higher accomplishments of life-those spiritual accomplishments, which especially characterise an immortal being-must have been, so far as was compatible with his actual situation, already complete. His ethical principles, infinitely removed from the darkness of subsequent ages, were comparatively perfect, when contrasted with those of communities in a rapid career of civilization previous to the introduction of Christianity. It is to this circumstance that we must attribute the awful visitations of the Divine vengeance on the immediate descendants of Adam at the Deluge, on the cities of Sodom, and the nations of Canaan. The wrath of the Almighty does not waste itself on the wretched victims of helpless ignorance. All these people fell into the lowest depths of depravity in the broad glare of noon-day light;-their knowledge of the celestial economy, so far as it was connected with their individual interests, was probably superior to that of the most refined nations of modern times ;-their rebellion partook of the nature of a deliberate and diabolical insult to the Most High, and necessarily and justly called down upon their heads those fearful severities which have so frequently produced the superficial animadversions of sceptical writers. If we reflect on the history of the Jews, down to the period of their final dispersion, we shall find them to have stood, with respect to their political position, in nearly the same predicament. At no time barbarians, they moved not with the ordinary current of civilization. Superior, at the very commencement of their existence, as a nation, in their religious and moral institutions, to the rest of mankind, they were greatly surpassed, even at its close, by Greece, Rome, and some less celebrated countries, in the distinguishing marks of social improvement. A more decisive internal evidence than this cannot be afforded, of their having dwelt under a peculiar dispensation, of which the natural order of progression, as established by the economy of Providence in the common business of life, formed no part of the plan. The all-wise, but inscrutable designs of Heaven did not require that the same supernatural interposition should illumine the fortunes of the whole human race. The greater part dispersed over the face of the earth, lost the remembrance of the primeval revelation, or retained it only through the obscure and erring channel of distorted tradition. These people soon displayed, as others still exhibit even in the present day, the melancholy spectacle of fallen creatures, involved in the mist of profound ignorance, and unconscious of their natural capacity to effect some amelioration of their deplorable condition. Such is the age of barbarism, in which every nation, not set apart for a peculiar end in furtherance of the plans of Omniscience, has been benighted. A total want of law and order-practices similar to, and probably for the most part founded upon an imitation of those of the brute creation, and miseries rendered tolerable only by the absence of all human sensibility-are, in most instances, the lamentable characteristics of the savage state. Out of such a state of abasement, barbarians, with more or less difficulty, according to circumstances, at length emerge. Placed in happy climates and situations, a part have, by their own unassisted efforts, operated their extrication; others have caught a glimpse of light from a more fortunate neighbour, and followed in the race of improvement. The greater numbers, enamoured of a slothful freedom, and tenacious of depravity, have been tamed only by the galling yoke of a conqueror, and in gradually imbibing the manners of their masters, earned by their involuntary sufferings, a less degraded station for their descendants. Not a few, alas! still remain, and afford, it may be, a salutary lesson of the fatal effects of a vitiated nature. There are but two general points of view in which civilization may naturally be considered—that which is past and present, and the state to which it may reasonably be expected to attain in future times. Under the distinct heads of retrospective and prospective civilization, those general views will comprehend various subdivisions in the two separate parts of the first book. (To be continued.) THE AUTO-BIOGRAPHY OF GILBERT GREENWOOD: In Four Parts. Part II. -The heat Of an unsteady youth, a giddy brain, Thoughts vagrant as the wind, and as uncertain.-Ford. THE Reverend Moses Gray was parish minister of Balwhinny, situate in the bosom of the Grampians, and surrounded with hills, which, in a manner, shut it out from the rest of the world. Mr Gray had been ordained to this charge, after having lingered on the brink of the pool of patronage for twenty of the best years of his life, and had been somewhat more than fifteen years minister of the parish, when I became an inmate of the manse. The family consisted of the minister, Mrs Gray, a son in his fourteenth year, a daughter about my own age, a maid-servant, and a herd-boy. Mr Gray had all the piety, learning, and simplicity of a patriarch of the primitive times. There were many richer pastors in the church, where worldly wealth is supposed to constitute riches; but it might be questioned whether the order to which he belonged contained a happier member than Moses Gray. His courtship with the woman who was now his wife had commenced about the time he was licensed as a preacher; and perhaps the long years that he was doomed to pass in almost hopeless expectation, seemed to lin ger more tardily, because they prevented the consummation of his union with one so dear to his heart, and whom he loved too well to plunge into poverty and its accompanying privations. Her love was not less ardent; and she gave proof of her attachment, by living in virgin constancy, till time had blighted the. roses on her cheeks; and, in the fortieth year of her age, she became mistress of the manse of Balwhinny. Her husband had seen more than half a century of years pass over him; but the regularity of their lives, the equanimity of their minds, and the salubrity of the climate, made the worthy couple appear at least ten years younger than they really were. When I first entered the family, I believed it impossible that I should not die of downright weariness in a few weeks; for there was a quietness, method, and regularity, from morning to night, so unlike all that I had been accustomed to, that it seemed to me as the stillness of the grave; and had it not been the fear of my father's whip, I should certainly have returned to my former companions in a few days after my arrival. For the first week, I was permitted to be an idler, Charles and Ellen Gray also relaxing in their usual studies, that they might contribute to my amusement. But there was a manly gravity about the one, a modest bashfulness about the other, and the style of speech in both was so different from all that I had heard or seen, that, even in idleness, my hours seemed of interminable length. How ever, there was such uniform kindness displayed by every member of the family, that although I might be unhappy, it was impossible to be displeased. When I began my studies, the good minister seemed astonished at my ignorance, but contented himself with calling forth the most brilliant qualifications of his own children in my presence. Charles, although only about two years my senior, read Latin and Greek with ease and fluency; he was now studying hard, preparing for College, and I should have looked upon him as a phenomenon, had not Ellen so far outshone me she read English with that graceful propriety which indicated that she understood and felt what she read, whether prose or verse; compared with mine, her hand-writing was copperplate, and executed with a facility to which I had no pretensions; in arithmetic, she was equally my superior, being not only much farther advanced, but in what I had learned, she put me to shame, for she understood principles, while I only recollected rules: in fact, she was a sentient, reflecting being, while I was merely an automaton. Her father rightly conjectured that this would arouse my pride, although he did not anticipate the consequences correctly; for I considered them so far in advance, that I despaired of ever overtaking them, and therefore looked on the attempt as hopeless. Mr Gray was not ignorant of the human heart; he saw my mortification, and took the most effectual means to remove it, by praising my efforts, predicting my future success, and more especially in permitting the gentle Ellen to become my teacher, while she pretended to be only my play-fellow; and she possessed the art of making herself agreeable in such a degree, that her lessons soon made a deeper impression than those of her father. Still there was a monotony in my present life which was irksome, and many privations to which I felt it painful to submit. It was true, I liked the company of Ellen; but I would have liked it much better had she been less worthy of esteem, and borne a greater resemblance to those of her sex with whom I had formerly associated. Although I had seldom participated in the delicacies of the table, with which my brothers were pampered, and although I could endure hunger and thirst in no ordinary degree, yet I had learned to riot in the luxuries supplied by the dairy-maid, and even felt a delight in drinking strong liquors. But here, although our table was abundantly supplied, our food was plain, and it required air and exercise to give it a proper relish; our pleasures and amusements were equally simple; no cards, no fowling-pieces, no dogs, no horses, except the minister's grey poney, as staid and formal as himself. I had attempted to romp with Ellen, but she burst from me, and when I repeated the freedom, she left me, and came not in my sight for the day. We were seldom permitted to enter the kitchen, and on no account to pass our time there, which I considered as not one of the lightest of my privations; for I still recollected the companions with whom I had associated, and longed to enjoy a little of that ease and freedom, both in speaking and acting, to which I had long been accustomed; and although I could have wished that Matty, the servant-maid, had had a companion, to give a greater zest to our frolics, I imagined that even her company would be a relief from the restraint and dull formality which pervaded the mansion, and had at different times contrived to introduce myself into the kitchen. Matty was cheerful, seemed goodnatured, and rather pleased with my company, as she was generally alone. I talked freely, and she would sometimes laugh at my drolleries, till one evening, that the minister, his wife and daughter, were out walking, and Charles retired to study, I was left to con over a lesson, but soon stole down to the kitchen, for the sake of Matty's company; and as she seemed in a pleasant mood, I began to exercise some practical jokes, similar to those which I had frequently practised, to the amusement and apparent satisfaction of my former associates, when Matty slapped me in the face, till the blood sprung from its most prominent part-told me never to enter the kitchen again—and pushing me out, bolted the door behind me. I had thus been foiled in finding a companion to my liking, after having tried every one except the cow-boy, and I found him equally formal and intractable with the others. Hence, although every one was civil, indeed kind, yet all was so different from what I had ever known, that although there was nothing of which I could complain, all was weariness and insipidity. Mr Gray, I have no doubt, saw this, and his unremitted endeavours so far succeeded in removing my ennui. No effort was spared to inspire me with a love of learning; and my progress, if not equal to the good man's wishes, was at least commensurate to his expectations. Had I known how to avail myself of the instructions now daily set before me, both in precept and example, I should, in all human probability, have been a very different man from what I now am. This was, if not the only, at least the best opportunity I ever had for intellectual improvement; but I was ignorant of its value, a giddy, unthinking fool, which I have often since vainly deplored; for although, in the first years of my life, circumstances over which I had no control influenced my fortune, yet, in my after years, I must acknow ledge with Cowley, that 'Tis our own wisdom moulds our state, Our faults and virtues make our fate. Mrs Gray displayed a far greater degree of maternal kindness towards me than I had ever before experienced, and I began to regard her with an affection which I had never before felt; it had some resemblance to that which I entertained for the dairy-maid, who flattered, fondled, and pampered me with delicacies, but was mingled with a respect which that girl had never inspired; it was more like the fondness with which I had once regarded my mother, but was far more equal, and less interrupted by my resentments and angry passions. The pastor continued to avail himself of the proficiency of his own children, to stimulate me in my education; and his duty, as my preceptor, was more than faithfully, it was fondly discharged. Charles, in the prosecution of his studies, had little leisure for being my companion; but this was more than compensated by the gentle Ellen, in whose company I rambled over the valleys, and climbed the brown hills that rose around our dwelling. Nothing but the presence of this amiable girl could in any degree have fixed my attention on the objects to which it was directed by her; she was a philosopher in petticoats, yet so modest and unassuming, that she appeared utterly unconscious of the knowledge she possessed. I then thought her acquirements wonderful, but have since found that they only appeared so to my ignorance, with which she never upbraided me, but was every day endeavouring to remove, by informing me of something hitherto unknown, and which, from her manner of introducing it, had peculiar attractions. A year had passed away, and I was now not only reconciled to my situation, but often imagined it pleasant; yet there was a calmness and want of sensual excitement in every thing which I saw, heard, and felt, which did not altogether accord with the ardour of my disposition; my former habits were weakened, but not eradicated; and although, in my present situation, I might have been compared to the Israelites with their manna, feeding on food from Heaven, had I known how to appreciate it, yet, like them, I did at times long for the flesh pots of Egypt, that is to say, the company of my former associates of both sexes. This vitiated appetite was gradually weakening, when fate interposed a powerful obstruction to my reformation. The small-pox appeared in the village in which the manse was situate, and as I had never had that disorder, I was instantly sent home till the contagion should pass away. Although doubtful about my recep tion from my parents, yet I had |