gale, and the stern finger of decay hath rising in its aspirations, like the suns set its funeral impress upon every leaf reaches every successive day nearer its and flower. Reasoning from the ana-meridian altitude. It is in this sealogy of nature, with regard to our own son of life, when the heart leaps highstate, what food for doubting here? est in its ardent boundings, and when What cloudy pillars to support the pleasure is refined and sublimated, till baseless fabric, which scepticism has it is almost reduced to pain. It is to impiously reared!-what a gnawing this season of spirit and enterprise, that worm to nip the gourd, under which the chronicles of age return to seek the believer so securely fondles over his their proudest feats, and compile their future hopes. What a dense and des- most pleasing histories; and it is to pairing gloom, to hide from his eager this, that the aged soul longingly regaze that better country,' on which verts, praying for one cup from its limhis heart is unchangeably fixed. But pid streams, that it may once again even here the sceptic is best met upon taste of the waters of life freely. Memory his own grounds, and best answered goes as ambassador to the far-off courts by his own arguments. The very re- of youth (or memory journeys to the flection that we can feel thus, amid the far distant shrine of youth) and brings general marks of decay which surround to the morbid mind, the gladdening inus, is, in my opinion, sufficient to sa- telligence, that there all is peaceful and tisfy the cold and chilling doubts of happy, presents to the soul the circean materialism, and convince us, that what cup of young remembrances, but just we have within us is but an emanation as it is about to quaff the hallowed from that all-pervading and self-exist- draught, the cold hand of reality intering power, which rules the storm, feres and dashes it down for ever. and rides the tempest's wing.' It was thus for a-while my thoughts This moralizing propensity is peculiar were steeped in delight, and bathed in to no class of men--to no particular order a blissful delirium! I was intoxicated of intellects. It is common to all. The with visionary imaginings! My soul poet may weave a richer and more had drunk to madness of the fancied gaudy wreath to twine around the cup! My own identity was forgotten, tresses of his own favourite season, or and for a while became a part of the may hymn a deeper tone of inspiration surrounding scene! But the gloom to the varied God' who rules them of evening was gathering around mé, all; but the simple, though not the less and the humid coldness of the thickfervent, breathings of the pious rustic, ening blast, chilled me again into the belong to the same class of sentiments, reality of life. I withdrew from the and are resolvable into the same na-scene with feelings of regret, though tive feelings. To all, however, the not unmingled with pleasure. That poet, as well as the peasant, the spring-we had known each other, when hope tide of the year is the spring-tide of was warm and life was young, sanchope. The period when the first vernal roses give sentiment to the one, when the first vernal showers give promises to the other. Hope rises upon dewy wings, and the spirit of youth evolves with the opening blossom. Every breath of the season carries incense to the heart, and the young mind tioned the regret. That we could thus again meet and mix, although the damp of years was gathering on my soul, sanctified the pleasure. A deep-felt adieu burst from my inmost soul, while the heart breathed forth spontaneously the closing farewell. Sweet scenes, adieu! in you I oft have met N. first six or seven lines of my perfor with more lively interest to the results mances, they will, I suspect, listen of my experience. Between men and books there is this in cominon, that an affection for them may grow out of mere length of intercourse thus one often feels a reluctance in parting with a voluminous author, and probably from no other cause than the length of his work, and the time we had been yoked together. On this principle, I apprehend is partly + HINTS TO YOUNG AUTHORS.founded our admiration of the old wri ters; whom we love, not so much for It may do, said a publisher at the beauties of their style, the scenes the west end to a young Scriblerus, of tenderness, and passion, and mature, who had submitted to him his MS. they exhibit, as their prolixity. This for perusal, provided the beginning may appear a little paradoxical, but it were a little more sparkling; but many is certain that many of our attachments, ladies calling at the shop, take up a both personal and literary, have no publication, and if, after turning over better foundation, and derive all their a page or two, they do not meet any interest from the circumstances under striking passage, throw it down, and which they are formed. A man shut the work is forg After hearing in a dungeon, with no other resource this monition from Mr. I have than the reveries of Jacob Behmen, or been always careful to give a sparkling Baker's Chronicle, for example, might commencement to my productions, be brought to entertain very extravagenerally introducing them with a gant opinions of their merits, and asflourish of trumpets. In these emul- cribe to them excellencies which were ous times, when the press is teeming solely due to the peculiarities of his with novelties almost every hour, a situation. He would naturally value writer's greatest difficulty is in finding them in proportion as they had relev persons with leisure to read his pro-ed the tædium of confinement: the ductions; when this point is gained, numberless associations with which the like an audience from men in office, repeated perusal of them had been se the chief obstacle in literature is sur-companied, would convert every page mounted; and it is with a view of as- into a volume, to which he could ne sisting beginners, in this important ver revert without reviving all the rebranch of the profession, that I propose collections of his solitude. To him submitting to them a few hints on the they would be a library of thought and most successful mode of commencing feeling, with which his intellectual their works, so as to attract public at-existence would be associated ; but tention. I am well aware what an un- it is obvious that the charm would grateful task I undertake, for no class not be in the works, but in his is more averse from receiving instruc- mind. He might, however, easily tion; but when I inform them, that I mistake the cause of this admirahave become rich and prosperous, chief- tion, and ascribe the interest be felt to ly from a dextrous management of the fancied beauties in the style and thought of the writers, while the real source of the enchantment would be in his situation, and the feelings and ideas with which they had accidentally become connected. If an traverse a Gothic ruin at midnight; but suppose you lead them on with a line from Butler, or observation from Moutaigne, or an humorous sally from Falstaff, they will follow you to the end, A good deal of philosophical criti- were it from mere curiosity, to see how cism depends on this principle, but I subjects, so oddly begun, will terminonly advert to it to show how even dull ate. If you wish to introduce a mebooks may become interesting merely taphysical or astronomical disquisition, from reading and hence arises the let your beginning be, As the clown importance of our subject, and the deep said to the philosopher viewing the interest authors have in commencing heavens through a telescope." their works, so as to procure them a essay on the belles lettres: Pope perusal. To this end, nothing will beautifully expresses it,' or There is more effectually contribute than a dash- an observation in that voluminous wriing, spirited, or what Mr. calls a ter Lope de Vega,' is very approprisparkling commencement. If you be- ate. Should your theme be a piece gin with a preamble, patience is ex- of humour: Newton when walking in hausted, suspicion excited-it does his garden,' or Beacon profoundly not answer the question,-who or what remarks, or the sagacious Hume are you? But if you start with an observes,' or 'There is an eloquent anecdote, or exclamation, or quotation, passage in Jeremy Taylor,' or An the ice is broken, attention arrested, ingenious remark in Barrow'—are all the peculiarities of your style and character manifested, and you are at once bodied forth to the imagination as an individual with whom we are sufficiently familiar to begin conversation. con excellent, and sanctioned by high authority. I have already remarked on the beauty of an exclamation; there is no better facing to an article, especially a review of twenty volumes of divinity: Though you cannot, in writing as thus, Twenty volumes! says the in speaking, hold the reader by the reader.' Such a fillip I have known button-hole, you may assault his un-carry one briskly through fifty or sixty derstanding by a literary coup de mein. pages of very elaborate criticism. InThat your enterprise may succeed, be deed the whole secret consists in excareful that the first sentences are of citing surprise, so as to arrest the atsuch a rare and uncommon kind that tention: conceal, therefore, your bethey cannot by any possibility have en- ginning as carefully as a dramatist tered any one's mind but your own. ceals the denouement of his plot. If you are anticipated, you will assur-Mind, however, it is not surprise alone, edly be thrown aside at the first glance but an agreeable surprise, which is esas common-place; but if you astonish sential: if you drop on your reader with some novelty, though foreign to with something extremely mal a prothe subject, you will be considered a pos, of course the effect will be the reman of genius, and your performance verse. In all respects, consider the perused though it be ever so dull. To commencement in the nature of a first illustrate this precept more particular- impression, and consequently prepare ly suppose you wish to put forth a ser-it with the same care and circumspecmon or ethical discourse. It is evi- tion that you prepare to meet your dent that many persons will venture on mistress for the first time. In this case such topics with the same feelings of the public is the object of your suit; chill and horror with which they would and, in the opinion of an old admirer, she is far more capricious in her at-sence probably of volumes of thought,' tachments than any idol to whom you I cannot help comparing the writer to can pay your addresses. the sculptor, who cuts a small statue As this branch of authorship is the from a huge block of marble: or his most perilous, so it is the most diffi- labours may be likened to those of the cult. When a writer sits down to his assayist, when the pure metal bears task, after revolving his ideas, he gene- only a small proportion to the ore from rally discovers several ways by which which it is extracted. He is the inhe may enter on his subject. He is tellectual machine, the mental laboralike a person at the e crossing of differ-tory of society, whose office saves the ent roads leading to the same place, mass of mankind the trouble of thinkeach route possessing peculiar advan- ing. He takes up the different ques tages for the development of his tions which agitate the world in the thoughts. The more he meditates, the gross state, clears them of impurities, greater is the number of outlets he dis- disperses the shadows by which they covers, till at length, he is bewildered are obscured, and conducts the reader by the diversity. Thus he is exposed in a clear and direct path, to the few to two evils, one of meditating too ultimate truths into which all disputes much, and the other of meditating too are resolvable. little; and it is not easy to determine There are those, no doubt, who act the greater. In the former case, his differently,-writers who darken inideas multiply to such an extent, he stead of enlightening the path of know his undertaking in so many differ- ledge,-who, instead of clearing the ent lights, that he is perplexed in what avenues of truth, choke them up with point of view it will appear to most the rubbish of their own thoughts; but advantage; in the latter, he is in dan- these are the bunglers in the profes ger of commencing at the wrong end, sion, made by Nature's journeymen." of pursuing his subject a considerable There are others too, a species of liter way, and then discovering that the path ary gossops, full of conceit and affec he has taken excludes many beauties tation, who use their pens with as litwhich another route will embrace. No tle ceremony as their tongues,—scribes useful advice can be given to him on who no sooner sit down than they bethis part of his functions. He must gin to blot the paper-their first thought be left to his own judgment and discretion, qualities as easily attained by faith and prayer as written instructions. Lest, however, I be deemed quite impotent on this part of the subject, I shall say, as a general rule, that he ought not to think too much, nor too little, but just enough! sees occurring is recorded—no previous reconnoisance of their subject-they are never a step in advance, and the unfortunate reader, after being dragged long and weary way through every turning and winding of their thoughts, finds at length he is pursuing an ignis fatuus, or perhaps in the end obtains Readers are not aware of the toil we some faint glimpse of what he ought to undergo in their service; of the masses have seen clearly at the beginning. of thought and feeling wasted in pro- Such talking writers serve up the froth viding a few pages for their amusement: with the liquor; when we want only how many bright ideas, touching sen- the prime meat, they give us the whole timents, and brilliant images, are reject-carcase. Were I their employer, I' ed by the fastidiousness of the author! should deduct them for waste and offal, When I see a neat essay, the quintes- The process by which the mind ar SIR WALTER RAWLEIGH. rives at truth, in morals and criticism, dull metaphysical disquisition. Others is the same as in the exact sciences. may think, under the pretext of giving In both, the investigation proceeds from hints to young authors, we have really truths that are obvious and admitted, been exposing the tricks of old ones. to others more remote, till, by a kind The latter opinion, however, we disof mental ladder, we reach the ulti-claim; for though we know that every mate proposition to be demonstrated. calling has its artifices for catching the Neither is there any difference in the unwary, we have too much of the esprit certainty of the results; a question of de corps to expose those of our own. taste or feeling being as susceptible of demonstration as a mathematical the orem. The former, indeed, appears less certain, because the elements on Rawliegh's cheerfulness was so rewhich it depends are less palpable to markable, and his fearlessness of death, the understanding. In the demonstra- so marked, that the Dean of Westmintion of a problem in geometry, for ex-ster, who attended him, at first wonample, our footing is sure, and we see dering at the hero, reprehended the the ground on which we rest; the lan- lightness of his manner; but Rawleigh guage employed is precise, and has gave God thanks that he had never always some prototype. But in ques- feared death, for it was but an opinion, tions in the abstract sciences, so many and an imagination; and as for the. qualities enter into the solution, some manner of death, he had rather die so evanescent, others which language only than of a burning fever; and that some vaguely expresses, that the writer is might have made shows outwardly, but not always sure he understands him- he felt the joy within. The Dean self, much less is he capable of com- says, that he made no more of his death municating his ideas to others; the sub- than if he had been to take a journey; tlety of his subject escapes through the Not,' said he, but that I am a great imperfection of his instruments, But sinner, for I have been a soldier, a though they thus differ, it is not in seaman, and a courtier.' The writer their certainty, but our means of in- of a manuscript letter tells us, that the vestigation. There can be no doubt dean declared he died not only relithat the foundation of moral distinc-giously, but he found him to be a man tious and of our judgment, in matters of as ready and as able to give, as to take taste, depends as much in the immu- instruction. table relations of nature as the proper- On the morning of his death he ties of a triangle: and the only reason smoked, as usual, his favourite to-' why mankind are not so unanimous, in bacco; and, when they brought him the one case as the other, arises from the a cup of excellent sack, being asked imperfection of language, and our con- how he liked it, Rawleigh answered, sequent inability to communicate ours the fellow, that, drinking of ideas with equal precision. St. Giles's bowl, as he went to Tyburn, said, "that it was good drink if a man might tarry by it." The day before, in passing from Westminsterhall to the Gate-house, his eye caught Sir Hugh Beeston in the throng, and calling on him, requested that he would see him die to-morrow But these are too grave matters for us; and, besides, it is the time to conclude. Some, indeed, may think we are here giving a practical illustration of our own precepts, and showing how, by commencing with a sparkling anecdote, the reader may be drawn into a Sir Hugh, |