We close this volume, on the whole, with feelings of regret for its shortness, and of admiration for the genius of its author. There are but two noble sorts of poetry,-the pathetic and the sublime; and we think he has given very extraordinary proofs of his talents for both. There is something, too, we will venture to add, in the style of many of his conceptions, which irresistibly impresses us with conviction, that he can do much greater things than he has hitherto accomplished; and leads us to regard him, even yet, as a poet of still greater promise than performance. It seems to us, as if the natural force and boldness of his ideas were habitually checked by a certain fastidious timidity, and an anxiety about the minor graces of correct and chastened composition. Certain it is, at least, that his greatest and most lofty flights have been made in those smaller pieces, about which, it is natural to think, he must have felt least solicitude; and that he has succeeded most splendidly where he must have been most free from the fear of failure. We wish any praises or exhortations of ours had the power to give him confidence in his own great talents; and hope earnestly, that he will now meet with such encouragement, as may set him above all restraints that proceed from apprehension, and induce him to give free scope to that genius, of which we are persuaded that the world has hitherto seen rather the grace than the richness.

TO READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS.

THE enthusiasm, with which the pure mind of a zealous FRIEND is fired, is worthy of the goodness of his heart, the liberality of his views, and the magnitude of his cause. Well may he exclaim, in a burst of legitimate passion and honest pride,

Thou, if there be a Thou in this great town,

Who dares, with angry Eupolis, to frown;
He, who with bold Cratinus, is inspir'd,

With Zeal and equal Indignation fir'd,

Who at ENORMOUS VILLAINY TURNS PALE,

And STEERS AGAINST IT WITH A FULL-BLOWN SAIL;

Like Aristophanes, let him but smile

On this my honest work, though plain the style;

And if two lines, or three, in all my strain,
Appear less drossy, read those lines again.
May they perform their author's just intent,
Glow in thy ears, and in thy breast ferment.
But from the reading of my book, and me,
Be far, ye foes to virtuous Poverty,

Who Fortune's fault upon the poor can throw,
Point to the faded coat, and sullied shoe,
Lay Nature's failings to their charge, and jeer

The dim, weak eyesight, WHEN THE MIND IS CLEAR.

To Dr. HOSACK, of New-York, we tender our acknowledgments for his anecdotical letter. We shall be glad to hear from this gentleman, on topics either literary, or scientific, as often as the cares of his salutary and benevolent profession will give him leave. We have enjoyed numerous opportunities of remarking, that he, who has had the enviable privilege of an intimacy with the scholars of Edinburg, that hot-bed of literature, leaves that glorious society, with a mind deeply tinged with the colours of genius at once bright and lasting.

It is not only hoped, but believed, that every man of correct Judgment and delicate Taste will approve of our plan to avail ourselves, occasionally, of the wisdom that is without.

Although from the number of our communications the Editor would find little difficulty in filling all his pages with original matter; yet this, however easy to him, would, in many cases, be little to the advantage of his readers. It has appeared more eligible to insert only such as possessed superior merit in point of subject, or manner, and, instead of refuse, or ordinary composition, to introduce interesting extracts from rare or valuable books, not accessible to the generality of our readers; and particularly translations from authors in foreign languages, which have not appeared in an English dress. From connexions, which have been recently established, it is hoped we shall be able greatly to enlarge our command of foreign works for this latter purpose. Almost all of the ephemeral productions of the English press are our closet companions, and a large proportion of literary and philosophical productions, upon a larger scale, is by no means inaccessible to our curiosity. In the multitude of these pages, whether light or sericus, a diligent reader will discover numerous passages either brilliant, or solid, which, from their rarity, originality, use, or beauty, deserve a faithful transcription into this miscellany. A shallow or imperfect essay, merely because the rickety bantling was born on this side of the Atlantic, shall never supersede the hardy and graceful offspring of LEARNING, IMPREGNATED BY GENIUS. Domestic talents, and domestic industry, shall always be fondly fostered; but we shall always keep wide open the doors of communication, for the admission of wisdom from every part of the world.

Of the various and elegant essays we have received with gratitude and inserted with alacrity since the establishment of this magazine

few have arrested our attention more strongly than a very subtle speculation with which we were recently favoured, on the character of Hamlet. We are fully of the author's opinion, which he has supported with the solidity of argument and decorated with the ornaments of style. There is a passage in one of the letters of an eminent critic and polite scholar, so pertinent to our correspondent's theory and so coincident with our own sentiments, that we will copy it as a just tribute to the poet, the player, the common feelings of our nature, and the rights of good sense.

It is in vain to indulge one's self in unavailing complaints, otherwise I could rail by the hour at dame Fortune for placing me beyond the reach of GARRICK, that arch magician, as Horace would have called him. I well remember, and I think can never forget, how he once affected me in Macbeth, and made me almost throw myself over the front seat of the two shilling gallery. I wish I had another opportunity of risking my neck and nerves in the same cause. To fall by the hands of Garrick and Shakspeare, would enoble my memory to all generations. To be serious, if all actors were like this one, I do not think it would be possible for a person of sensibility to outlive the representation of Hamlet, Lear, or Macbeth: which, by the bye, seems to suggest a reason for that mixture of comedy and tragedy of which our great poet was so fond, and which the Frenchified critics think such an intolerable outrage both against nature and decency. Against nature it is no outrage at all: the inferior officers of a court know little of what passes among kings and statesmen; and may be very merry when their superiors are very sad; and if so, the porter's soliloquy in Macbeth may be a very just imitation of nature. I can never accuse of indecency the man, who by the introduction of a little unexpected merriment, saves me from a disordered bead, or a broken heart. If Shakspeare knew his own powers, he must have seen the necessity of tempering his tragic rage by a mixture of comic ridicule; otherwise there was some danger of his running into greater extremes than deer stealing, by sporting with the lives of all the people of taste in these realms. Other playrights must conduct their approaches to the human heart, with the utmost circumspection, a single false step may make them lose a great deal of ground; but Shakspeare made his way to it at once, and could make his audience burst their sides this moment and break their hearts the next. I have often seen Hamlet performed by the underlings of the theatre, but none of these seemed to understand what they were about. Hamlet's character, though perfectly natural, is so very uncommon, that few, even of our critics, can enter into it. Sorrow, indignation, revenge, and consciousness of his own irresolution, tear his heart; the peculiarity of his circumstances often obliges him to counterfeit madness, and the storm of passions within him often drives him to the verge of real madness. This produces a situation so interesting, and a conduct so complicated, as none but Shakspeare could have the courage to describe, or even invent, and none but Garrick will ever be able to exhibit.

The irregularities of the muse of M. are remarkably characteristic, but our friend need not be surprised at this wildness, for without it the Wit were nothing.

Need I to thee, dear C-n, tell?

He loves the license all too well,

In sound, now lowly, and now strong,

To raise THE DESULTORY SONG.

The versatility of B. is like that of Sir Sidney Smith,

Alike to him the sea, the shore,

The sword, the bridle, or the oar.

The character of a British officer reminds us of a pictureque passage in Marmion:

Although with men of high degree

The proudest of the proud was he,
Yet, train'd to camps, he knew the art
To win the soldier's hardy heart.
They love a captain to obey

Boistrous as March, yet fresh as May,

With open hand and brow as free,
Lover of wine and minstrelsy,
Ever the first to scale a tower,
As virtuous in a lady's bower;

Such buxom chief shall lead his host

From India's fires to Zembla's frost.

It affords the Editor the most signal satisfaction to have an opportunity of applying, with a few variations, the following spirited passage from the works of SIR WILLIAM JONES, when speaking of the early efforts of a literary society in Asia. What he said, with so much pertinence in the East, will, we ardently hope, be fully realized in the West.

When I consider, with pain, that, in this fluctuating, imperfect, and limited condition of life, such inquiries and improvements can only be made by the UNITED EFFORTS OF MANY, who are not easily brought, without some pressing inducement, or strong impulse, to CONVERGE IN A COMMON POINT, I console myself with the hope, founded on opinions, which it may have the appearance of flattery to mention, that if such a union can be effected, it must be in the capital of my country, among gentlemen and scholars with whom I bave the pleasure of being intimately acquainted.

This hope has been already realized. The individuals alluded to, have with admirable alacrity and spirit, laid the foundations of a society for purposes the

most liberal. I may, perhaps, confidently foretell that an institution, so likely to afford entertainment and convey knowledge to mankind, will advance to maturity by slow, yet certain degrees; as the Royal Society, which, at first, was only a meeting of a few literary friends at Oxford, rose gradually to that SPLENDID ZENITH, at which a Halley was their Secretary and a Newton their President.

"A Medical Student," who proposes to discuss in an inaugural dissertion the properties of Opium, has done us the honour to task our memory for an appropriate motto from some classical writer, which should indicate the tranquilizing power of the blest nepenthe of the Turks. We at first thought of the dulce lenimen laborum of HORACE; but, on reflection, that very terse and beautiful phrase did not appear sufficiently comprehensive; the Faculty of remembrance then instantly flew to VIRGIL'S

Omnis curæ casusque levamen ;

as we are persuaded that this is a just eulogium of the virtues of the poppy, we offer it to our docile correspondent, and let the critics amend if they can.

We are not ignorant of the remarkable ingenuousness, not only of countenance but of character, to which our correspondent alludes. Dryden has described such a youth incomparably well:.

Nature too has nobly done her part,

Infus'd into his soul a noble grace,

And blush'd a modest blood into his face.

"Mira" is a perfect jilt, and the creature is aptly described, by one well acquainted with such an arrant coquet:

Her comet eyes she darts on every grace,

And takes a liking to each stripling's face.

The talents of Z. are too imporfect to accomplish the work he has designed. His poetry is something like prose, and his prose is engaged in a very criminal alliance with poetry. His composition is not only careless, but his manner is rude.

Heedless of verse, and hopeless of the crown,

Scarce half a wit, and more than half a clown.

To our great mortification and discontent, the myriad of bad poets is continually advancing, and they threaten to overrun all the territories of good sense. Against these vandals we are obliged to set in array