throne of grace; and though the infidel may scoff, I will declare it for the encouragement of others, and the glory of my God, that he vouchsafed to hear my cry, and delivered me.' We abhor infidelity as much as Mr. Gardiner can do; but we hope we may, without offence, hint that we deem it no less impious than presumptuous in him, to suppose himself of such value and importance, that the elements must depart from their course, and cease to obey their prescribed laws, for the safety and accommodation of this worthy Commander. We notice the passage because we have been informed from a variety of quarters, that this species of mental delusion has of late years made fearful progress among naval officers-a class of men in whom, more perhaps than in any other, it is requisite that the country which employs them should be able to count, not only on skill and energy, but on sober and manly judgment. The simple clown who stood bawling to Hercules to assist him, when his waggon got into a slough, instead of putting his shoulder to the wheel, was somewhat excusable, as the gods and demigods of the heathen mythology were supposed to interfere in all the concerns of men as well as of women; but what should we think of a commanding officer, who, having brought his ship, in a gale of wind, on a lee-shore, or among rocks and shoals, should go down to his cabin to pray, or, as Commander Gardiner has it, 'to seek refuge in a throne of grace,' instead of buckling to the task before him, and acting, and compelling his crew to act, pro virili? In our opinion, a silent ejaculation from the heart that animates and directs a steady arm, is worth more than all this parade of piety. How did St. Paul himself take the storm off Melita? Captain Basil Hall gives substantially the right answer-though he might perhaps have chosen a different phrase-'in an officer-like manner.' In his journey Capewards, near the mouth of the river Umsecaba, Gardiner met with some curious caverned rocks, where it is generally supposed that the survivors from the wreck of the Grosvenor East Indiaman, which in 1782 was lost near this spot, found a temporary shelter in these comfortless caverns; a supposition,' says Mr. Gardiner, not improbable, from the circumstance of their being still designated by the natives, as the white men's houses. Two of the guns, and several pigs of ballast, are visible at low water.' The history of the unfortunate crew and passengers of this vessel, many of the latter females, who are known to have escaped from the wreck, is buried in oblivion. Unless the character of the natives was different then from what it is now, one might have supposed the male passengers and the crew would easily have found their way to the colony; the females were probably detained; and a remark of Mr. Isaacs, without without the least allusion to this subject, that hereabouts many of the natives had a complexion lighter than copper, suggests a suspicion of what may have been their fate. Our knowledge of the geography of southern Africa has not made that advance which might have been expected from the length of time we have had possession of the Cape of Good Hope. In the early years of that period, Barrow, Trüter, Somerville, Lichtenstein, and Burchell, did something; and since then, several missionaries, but chiefly Campbell, and very recently Dr. Smith, have progressively extended their explorations—the last gentleman, with his party, in the central parts, as far as the tropic of Capricorn. Campbell the missionary reached Kurrachaine, which appears to be about the latitude of 25 degrees; a town well peopled and more advanced in civilization than any before discovered. We could have wished that Dr. Smith had visited this remarkable place, to witness the progress of civilization, or otherwise, since Campbell's time; he was near enough to see the hill on which it stands, but appears to have passed it on the right. We have before us a sketch of his travels, printed for private circulation, but the length to which this article has extended prevents us from noticing it further. We regret this the less, as a copious analysis of it, with a map, has been given in the volume of the Geographical Society's proceedings just published; but after all we are constrained to observe, that the English have made a slender use of their great opportunities in this highly interesting and important field of investigation. ART. II. Introduction to the Literature of Europe in the Fif teenth, Sixteenth, and Seventeenth Centuries. By Henry Hallam. Vol. I. 8vo. London. 1837. IT T is no less extraordinary than fortunate that this work should have been reserved for Mr. Hallam. The history of literature might appear a field in which the true lovers of letters would delight to expatiate; we should expect to find it crowded with aspirants for distinction, or industrious labourers in this work of love. It is a study which might be pursued by the tranquil scholar in the happy seclusion of his library; and stands almost entirely aloof from those jealousies and collisions which may deter the modest, and disturb the peace of the more adventurous writer, in other departments of history. Political animosities live in the descendants of the different parties; the great principles of attachment to monarchical and republican institutions keep up a perpetual a perpetual agitation; the opinions, the passions, the interests of men, are constantly awake, to watch with jealous hostility all heretical aberrations from their respective creeds. The historical characters of antiquity, still more those of modern times, have their array of accusers or compurgators, of haters or admirers, who resent either the high-coloured or the depreciating estimate of their several favourites. But the jealousies of literary men are personal, and expire with them; few form a permanent and exclusive sect. The body of their fame is not contested, like that of Patroclus, by rival armies; it is either left to the dogs and kites, or peaceably entombed by the pious gratitude of posterity. Though there is nothing which may not become a cause of strife in this contentious world, men's tastes are less quarrelsome than their political opinions; and the peaceful literary historian, while he would command the general gratitude, as guiding the student through the immense and almost trackless wilderness of literature, would thus more rarely come into collision with prejudice or angry jealousy. The disappointment of every student, anxious to obtain a compendious and lucid view of the progress of the human mind, particularly during the fertile and eventful period of the centuries named in Mr. Hallam's title-page-no less than the survey of the various authors who have devoted themselves to this branch of study, contained in his preface-will show that Europe has not yet produced one impartial and comprehensive work, representing the gradual development of the human imagination and intellect in the different nations which contribute to the literature of the western world. For, in fact, the History of European Literature ought to be one work; the well-arranged and harmonious cast, if we may so speak, of one mind. The vast scheme projected in Germany, but completed only in one or two of its divisions, assigned each leading department to one distinguished individualas, poetry to Bouterwek, philosophy to Tenneman, classical literature to Heeren. But among the important uses and advantages of such a work, would undoubtedly be the general view of the simultaneous progress of the various branches of literature-their mutual aid, or their interference with each other-the causes and authors of their predominance. Independent of the difficulty of strictly defining each particular province, the associates in such a plan, like the writers of the Bridgewater Treatises, would be constantly trenching on each other's ground; either perplexing the reader by conflicting views; or, by the repetition of the same information under a different form, adding unnecessarily to the bulk of the collection. A inaster hand would at last be necessary-(that office, office, indeed, in the German project was assigned to Eichhorn)armed with supreme authority, against which the several rulers of the different provinces could not be permitted to rebel; to compress the whole into uniformity, to condense the divergent rays into one luminous and consistent body. English literature is not merely without a work of these high pretensions, but singularly barren even in the subsidiary histories of the different departments of knowledge. If we except the admirable Essays of Dugald Stewart and Sir James Mackintosh, prefixed to the Supplement to the Encyclopædia Britannica, we know not that we could point out one readable treatise which traces fairly and fully the development of any one branch even of our own literature. Yet, when we consider the combination of qualities requisite to endow an historian, we say not now of his native literatureand even that would demand talents and accomplishments of rare extent and variety-but of the literature of Europe, we can scarcely be surprised that the self-sufficiency of arrogant pretension, as well as the diffidence of modest merit, should be overawed by the magnitude and difficulties of the task. The vigour of mind, which can explore the abstrusest depths of philosophy, must meet with the fine sensibility to the beauties of eloquence and poetry: 'Non bene conveniunt, nec in unâ sede morantur -laborious diligence in collecting materials, with dextrous skill in harmonizing and arranging them ;-the vast range of knowledge requisite for compiling a useful and instructive book, with the more delicate art of writing an agreeable one. Let us glance rapidly, as our space alone permits, yet somewhat more particularly, at the acquirements indispensable to an historian of European literature. He must be a scholar in the old and genuine sense of the word. The study of the learned languages exercised so great an influence over every department of letters ;—so much of the higher literature of a certain period was written in Latin;-even poetry had learned to speak a language, foreign indeed to the mass of mankind, but so familiarized as almost to be vernacular with the educated classes;-that the historian of literature, who has not a full command of this kind of knowledge, is not merely disqualified to pass judgment on the merits or influence of individual writers, but will be entirely unfit to examine the effects of this predominant and almost exclusive custom of writing and thinking in Latin on the general mind of Europe. Even if, with regard to the Latin poetry, his ignorance shall assume the language of contempt, his view of the imagi native literature of certain periods will be altogether imperfect and unsatisfactory. 'In the present age,' observes Mr. Hallam, it is easy to anticipate the supercilious disdain of those who believe it ridiculous to write Latin poetry at all, because it cannot, as they imagine, be written well. I must be content to assert, that those who do not know when such poetry is good, should be as slow to contradict those who do, as the ignorant in music to set themselves against competent judges.'-p. 598. An extensive acquaintance with modern languages is no less indispensable, both in order to introduce the writers who may command notice, with an authority, improperly assumed by those who only know that through the deadening medium of translation; and likewise, to call in aid whatever valuable estimate of its native literature each country may possess. All are not so poor in this respect as England; and one reason why we have less justice done to us by continental writers is, that we have not done justice to ourselves. The term literature is of vast and almost indefinite extent. It comprehends, in its widest range, theology, law, medicine, science. Though even the highest ideal notion of a literary historian will not demand a thorough and professional mastery of all those subjects,-yet, as constituent parts of the great plan, as elements of the general intellectual development, continually mingled up and crossing each other in infinitely various ways, they must all be studied with care,-no one of them can be excluded without essential injury to the whole circle of knowledge. The writer must, at least, be able to give the main results from those who have composed separate accounts of the progress of each, with sufficient intelligence not to mislead; with that just discrimination of their importance which may enable him to blend them up in due proportion with his general design. In the more general branches of literature, to a certain degree in theology, at least in works on religious subjects, in philosophy, in history, in eloquence, in works of imagination, a closer insight is necessary for a fair and authoritative estimate. The literary historian has, in a certain sense, to assign to each writer of every period his proper station and dignity; to promote or to degrade, to confirm or to abrogate the judgment of cotemporaries. His taste must be no less multifarious than his erudition; he must have patience and strength of understanding to sound the depths of philosophy, while he must be keenly alive to the passion, and feeling, and imagery, and be gifted with a fine ear for the melodies of verse. He has to summon up the mighty dead from the cloister, the university, the study, the hall of justice, the observatory, the theatre, the Vaucluse, the court of the prince, where the popular poet |