judgement, yet the Bible being our standard, we cannot but deem that person criminal, who rejects or treats with indifference the prominent doctrines which revelation proposes to our faith. On this point, Mr. B. seems to have mistaken even the great Author of our holy religion, by representing him as withholding his censure from the tenets of the Sadducees. (Vol. I. p. 68, 69.) If he did not condemn the erroneous disciples of Sadoc with asperity, yet he sufficiently expressed his abhorrence of their opinions and characters. Matthew informs us, (xvi. 3. and 12.) that he pronounced them to be "hypocrites," and that he bade his followers "beware of the doctrines of the Pharisees and Sadducees." We have no objection to admit that, in some cases, speculative error may be harmless, but can by no means adopt it as a general principle, that it is so, either in science or religion.

Mr. B. has let slip from his pen a strange hypothesis respecting the continued existence of Christianity. Speaking of ecclesiastical emoluments, he observes, if they had not been liberally conferred, in all probability," the Christian religion, degraded and rendered contemptible by the abject situation of its ministers, would, before this day, have either been totally extinguished, or degenerated into a mass of superstitions and absurdities, which would have reduced it nearly to the level of paganism." How came it to pass, that this divine religion did not become almost extinct, during the first three centuries after its promulgation, nor sink into a mass of superstition and absurdity, till long after it was propped by secular benefices? Christianity had already extended itself on every side, and triumphing over the opposition of carnal philosophy, superstition, iniquity, and persecution, flourished in unexampled glory, though destitute of these temporal advantages. While it affords us satisfaction to see the ministers of religion enjoying a liberal support, yet we are confident that the noble fabric does not rest on so frail a basis as the exterior respectability of the clergy. Like the bush on Horeb, the Church cannot be consumed, because "the Lord is in the midst ;" and although outward circumstances might conspire against it, yet that declaration guarantees its perpetuity; " On this rock will I build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it."

The Essays on Education, we think, are defective. A Christian moralist surely ought not to represent "the grand object of juvenile instruction," to be" the initiation of youth in the knowledge and literature of the world." Literary acquisitions should doubtless be subservient to religious and moral ends. We wish to see the rising generation well furnished with useful learning, but must ever view it as the principal object of education, to fix just sentiments in the understanding, and right principles in the heart. Mr. B. exhibits the Christian religion as a system so sublime, as not to be intelligible to the untutored poor. It is allowed that

a stricter

a stricter regard to their education, would in some measure facilitate the success of the clergy in their religious instruction; but our author has not confined his observations within due limits. The predominant success, and cordial reception, of the Gospel among the lower classes must confute this very common error. The capacities of some of the poor may not be equal to the task of embracing or defending a systematic theory of religion; nevertheless most of them are competent to receive its plain truths, and enjoy its consoling assurances. One leading feature of christianity is simplicity. It was intended to suit the mind of the barbarous Scythian, as well as that of the polished Greek and learned Jew, and both reason and experience must acknowledge, that it is not an ill-contrived or inadequate revelation.

In the remarks on romantic friendships, and the discussion of a well-known maxim of Bias, that we ought to live with our friends as if they were to be our enemies, we meet with several useful and judicious sentiments. Many moralists, and two favourite poets, Young and Cowper, have warmly censured this maxim; Mr. B. defends it, but we think with too little qualification. The volto sciolto e pensieri stretti appears to be a principle which he would carry even into the intimacies of friendship; and, indeed, his code of prudential advice smells too powerfully of the Chesterfield school, to be very grateful to Christian refinement.

The following extract, from an Essay on Retirement, contains some just observations, and at the same time affords an agreeable specimen of our author's manner.

"The effects of company and conversation are almost invariably conspicuous in discourse. He who has never been accustomed to company, will infallibly find himself embarrassed in his first introduction to the world. He discovers that conversation with his own mind is very different from conversation with other men; he is unprepared to meet opposition with confidence, and unexpected objections.with ready reply to bear up against noisy petulance, to contemn the attacks of ridicule, and the obstinacy of ignorance.

Many persons of consummate learning, and acknowledged abilities, have been remarkable for a timid reserve, and apparent dulness in conversation, at least, whenever they passed the limits of their familiar circles of select friends or particular acquaintance. Although this might, in some cases, proceed from a natural shyness of disposition, it appears more frequently to have risen from their habits of silent contemplation, and solitary reflection, which are opposite to those of reciprocal communication and social intercourse. A man who is accustomed to converse only with himself and his books, has leisure to arrange his ideas, to collect his scattered thoughts, and to digest his arguments. When contrarieties, contradictions and exceptions present themselves, nothing impedes the balancing of contradictory evidence and opposite probabilities: all is done at leisure: the operations of the mind glide smoothly along, like a placid stream, without opposition or impediment. A person thus accustomed to converse with his own mind, supposes that conversation with the world will be of a similar nature, that reason will invariably

predominate, and sound argument always prevail. He finds this expectation disappointed, and is in consequence disconcerted. He sees himself divested of his armour, in which be trusted and exposed, naked and defenceless, to an enemy with whose discipline and mode of warfare he is unacquainted. Coming from solitude into company, he is unfit to contend with that quickness of reply, that shrewdness of remark, that obstinacy of argument, and that noisy impetuosity of speech, which will disarrange his ideas, confuse his thoughts, embarrass his mind, and disconcert his plan of reasoning.

"The man of science and speculation, who, from the silent recess of his contemplative solitude, rushes into the world, often comes prepossessed with an exalted opinion of his own penetration, and the extent of his own knowledge. He has been accustomed to appland his own observations, arguments, inferences and conclusions, or perhaps to hear them approved and commended by some intimate friend, who has had the leisure to examine them, who delights in the same studies, and who is in some measure attached to the same pursuits, or accustomed to the same habits of life. Such an one resembles a spider in some obscure corner of a room, which, having had the good fortune to escape the cleanly vigilance of the chamber-maid, sits enveloped in his web, disregarding the beauty of the cornices, the curious workmanship of the chimney-pieces, and the elegance of the furniture. Regardless of the work of the architect and the painter, and himself equally unnoticed, his own web is his world: just so the man who has been long accustomed to solitary studies, has his mind too frequently enveloped in a net work of his own ideas, which constitutes his intellectual universe. When he enters the world with this strong persuasion of his own knowledge and abilities, he is surprised at finding himself totally ignorant of a thousand subjects, which every one else understands. Disconcerted, abashed, and confounded, his embarrassment may be compared to that of a general, who marching, as he snpposes, to certain victory, with a numerous and welldisciplined army, sees his plans disarranged, his hopes frustrated, his dreams of conquest dispelled, and his forces defeated by an enemy whose inferiority he despised, and from whom he expected but a feeble resistance. He discovers his erroneous estimate of the success of his expedition, as the other perceives the inutility of his solitary studies, and the deficiency of his knowledge. The student is then convinced that as his ideas have been formed in solitude, they are better calculated for a state of solitary meditation, than for actual converse with mankind."

pp. 22-25.

We are sorry that Mr. B. has so jumbled his ideas, that before we have time to admire one remark, he introduces another that offends us. Thus in his Essay on Religious Melancholy, he judges rightly, that it is not the system of any sect in particular that we should charge with a tendency to produce mental derangement; he ascribes those few instances that are met with, to a personal ardour of imagination, and warmth of feeling, especially if connected with a life of profligacy. But he seems also to suppose, that all persons in a state of depression, from religious causes, are powerfully impressed with horrible visions of VOL. II.

G g

future

future torment, and with a terror of the Almighty as an implacable oppressor. He does not seem to be aware that distress of mind may arise from genuine contrition and remorse of conscience; or that such a state of feeling is far preferable to the hardened indifference of philosophy, or a delusive reliance on fits of repentance and resolutions of amendment. On account of similar defects and errors which greatly detract from the merit of this work, we feel some difficulty in committing it to casual and unguarded readers. The light which it conveys, pleasant to the senses, and useful to the understanding, is occasionally tinged by passing through an imperfect medium, where it loses not a little of its purity and distinctness. It deforms, disguises, or decorates important objects, with artificial colours, and unless detected by experienced eyes, or overpowered by rays of unaltered brightness, it may occasion false estimates and hurtful mistakes.

The tale designed to illustrate the peculiarities of a city and country life is ingenious, and suited to correct many visionary notions. The Essay on Optimism is a perspicuous display of Mr. B.'s theory; yet we apprehend that some features of it are not only unwarranted, but contradicted, by that revelation which is our only safe guide in such disquisitions. Mr. B. unhappily places religion and philosophy together, as if they were sisters; and as heathenism preceded Christianity, we have been sometimes ready to imagine that he treated her like an elder sister. We, on the contrary, find continually more cause to refer all our opinions and doubts to the oracles of truth, being fully convinced that there only all that is essential for us to know can be sought successfully. In a neglect of the spirit and tenor of this divine revelation, we place the origin of many mistakes in these volumes. The Bible and its author are alluded to, but not appealed to; and consequently our duties to man are often withdrawn from their broad and firm basis, our duties to God, and rested upon the dubious and changeful support of philosophical declamation. This tone we are sorry to find so much assumed by Mr. Bigland: he sometimes appears to be defending one side of a question, when he ought to be examining both sides; he is contented therefore with superficial and partial arguments, and is often more anxious to dazzle than to illuminate. It is unfortunate that awork likely to be useful, and sure to be entertaining, should render it necessary for us to suggest these precautions.

We cannot let Mr. Bigland escape without noticing a degree of negligence in this publication, which is seldom rivalled. Its flagrant blunders in grammar, construction, orthography, and punctuation, are rather heightened than extenuated, by the neatness of its appearance, and the merit of its contents.

Art.

Art. IX. Observations on the Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening. Including some remarks on Grecian and Gothic Agriculture, collected from various Manuscripts, in the Possession of the different Noblemen and Gentlemen, for whose Use they were Originally written; the whole tending to establish fixed Principles in the respective Arts. By H. Repton, Esq. Second Edition. Large 4to. pp. 240. Price 51. 5s. Taylor, London, 1806.

OF

F this work the first Edition was almost wholly sold by subscription, it has therefore received a considerable share of attention, from those whom it more immediately concerns; and as most of our brother journalists have favoured the public with their opinions on its merits, we shall in the present instance do little more than announce and recommend it, in general

terms.

Nothing is so congenial to the disposition of man, as attentive cultivation and embellishment of the earth. It was the science of paradise, it still is the delight of the master of the globe: who is both rationally and honourably employed, in arranging, adorning, and fertilising his possession.

We rarely behold a moderately extensive surface, which is incapable of improvement by inventive genius and experienced art. Nature presents objects, the beauty of which she defies our ingenuity to increase; no labour can render them more striking to the eye, or more interesting to the imagination. She also presents scenes, whose almost unlimited vastness derides the puny efforts of human improvement. But there is, notwithstanding, an infinite variety of picturesque combinations, and sites, which are sketched rather than finished by Nature, and which require the eye and the hand of taste to augment and develope their attractions.

Every country has its appropriate style of landscape. The verdure of Britain has nothing in common with the savage rocks of some climates, nor any resemblance to the wild heaths, or sunburnt plains of others. Our business therefore, as Britons, is, to make the most of our advantages; and happily, late years have seen this duty accomplished with great skill, by professional artists; and with great liberality, by proprietors of demesnes, whose spirited improvements have been proportionate to the increase of their wealth. This has produced that style of laying out grounds, which foreigners call the English park or garden; and of which the chief principle is, not to counteract nature, but to assist her, by departing as little as may be from the character she has fixed on the scenery around us; yet with a steady aim directed by masterly skill, to introduce every improvement the propriety of which can be satisfactorily ascertained.

Among the Artists of the present day, whose studies are thus directed, Mr. Repton occupies a distinguished place: he has had many opportunities of examining the peculiarities of grounds

G g 2