to treat are, knowledge, virtue, and happiness, in connection with a life of retire

ment.

Knowledge, the author considers, as embracing three objects: the knowledge of God, of ourselves, and of the world. The first, he thinks, may be best obtain ed in retirement from the world, but not merely by the light of nature: the word of God must be studied with the aid of prayer. The next branch is the knowledge of ourselves; or, in other words, the knowledge of our moral situation. In order to acquire this, "we must know," our author remarks, "the law of our creation, or the duties required of us, and our defection from that law; then we must learn in what degree we should conform to this law, in order to secure our present, peace, and final happiness, and in what manner it is most usual for men to deceive themselves upon this subject." In this pursuit, Mr. Bates deems it necessary that we should withdraw ourselves as much as possible from the contagion of error, but that in doing this a just medium should be observed; since when seclusion from society is carried beyond certain limits, it tends to conceal a man from himself, in respect both of his vices and his virtues, his incapacities and his abilities.

Upon the whole it may appear, that retirement and society are suited to contribute in their turns to self-knowledge. The former, as being peculiarly favourable to the investigation of truth, will supply us with higher standards by which to try ourselves; while the latter is more likely (in some instances at least) to shew us our strength and weakness, and to detect those principles which lie deep and latent in the heart.What proportion they should bear to each other for the attainment of the end here in view, must be left to every individual to determine for himself, after a due consideration of his particular constitution, his habits and his circumstances."

In a knowledge of the world, Mr. Bates comprises, first, the knowledge of its exterior, or of its visible manners, with the nature and forms of its business; secondly, the knowledge of its interior, or of its secret principles, views, and dispositions; and lastly, of its value, or of the rate we ought to set upon the various objects which it offers to our pursuit." As the manners of Englishmen are not fixed and unalterable as those of the Orientals, the recluse is not so well fitted to acquire a knowledge of them as the man

of the world; but in what remains, Mr. Bates conceives he has just claims to su periority; since by attending to his own heart, and diligently perusing the page of history, he may gain as great an insight into the principles and views of the world, as by mixing in its busiest scenes. To know the value of the world, the retired man has abundant means; he cannot fail to learn that it is transitory, unsatisfying, and dangerous; and this branch of the knowledge of the world, though attained by few, is the most im portant of all.

Under this head many very valuable and impressive practical reflections occur.

The following passage deserves the serious consideration of those, who, in order to gain, as they pretend, a knowledge of the world, ransack the shelves of a circulating library.

“But of all the mirrors fabricated by the press, and held up to the public, there are none more common, or more fallacious, than those fictitious histories which go under the name of novels and romances, where, for the most part, the modesty of nature is overstepped, where reason is degraded into human manners are almost lost in rant, afsentiment, and where human language and fectation, and intrigue. When the world is viewed in such representations it is scarcely to be known again; instead of men and wo. men soberly engaged in business or innocent society, we are presented with a race of be ings who have withdrawn themselves into a region of their own, and whose days and nights are wasted in fantastic pursuits, sen timental babble, and mad extravagance. For any one to take his ideas from such exhibitions, would be no less an injustice to the world, than a disgrace to his own under standing.

"Among the many portentous evils that threaten both the present age and posterity, there are few which are more to be deplored than the general diffusion of these visionary writings; for what can be more deplorable than that young persons, instead of being taught to consider the present life as a state of serious trial, where much is to be endured and much to be forborne, should be flattered with the destructive imagination, that its great end is pleasure and amusement? What is more to be lamented, than that, by wrong principles early imbibed, the few by perpetual disappointment, and at length days of man on carth should be embittered terminated by a querulous and miserable old age, without any cheering prospect beyond the grave? This certainly is but ill to know the world even in point of present enjoyment, and to know it still less in its relation to the world to come."

The second part of this treatise consists

of reflections on virtue as influenced by a country life.

Human opinions and human passions, Mr. Bates observes, are contagious:

Hence, if in the mass of human opinions there is less truth than error, and less purity than depravity in the mass of human passions; and if, further, these passions and opinions, by engaging men in an eager pursuit of the same objects, convert public life into a scene of vehement competition (and that all this is the fact, I suppose no attentive and impartial observer will deny); it follows, that the general impression of the world must be unfavourable to truth and virtue; and that retirement, so far as it tends to weaken this impression, is an object of importance to all, and especially to persons of a yielding and infirm character; those, I mean, who, from a facility of disposition or unfixedness of principle, are very liable to be ensnared by false compliances, or, from a weak and irritable habit, to be discouraged at the least difficulty, exasperated at every appearance of opposition, and wounded before they are stricken."

But to all retirement is not advisa

ble: not to those whose imagination is more seductive than their senses; for this faculty can, in the depth of solitude, furnish out more captivating scenes of gaiety and splendour than any which human life actually exhibits: not to those who have a disposition to melancholy; for solitude is the nurse of this sad complaint: not to those to whom, for want of employment, retirement is dull and uninteresting. Aware that retirement must be regarded chiefly as a negative mean of virtue, Mr. B. proceeds to some observations on educacation. Religion, philosophy natural and moral, and history, are means which tend, by a more direct and positive influence, to the promotion of that desirable end.

Under each of these heads we meet with many judicious and valuable observations. In education Mr. B. is an

admirer of Mr. Locke's system; and he has offered some remarks, especially upon the reading of the classical authors, which, though not new, are deserving of serious attention. In religion he is warmly attached to the doctrine of the established church. Of natural philosophy our author observes, that it is favourable to virtue, as it enlarges the mind; gives a taste for intellectual enjoyment; drives away the terrors of superstition; discovers the limitation of our powers, and thus produces humility; and supplies analogies which ob

viate objections to revelation. Moral philosophy discovers the equity of the divine dispensations, teaches moral obligations and humility, and instructs concerning the true character of the world. History is Philosophy teaching by examples.

Warmly as Mr. B. admires retirement, he is not insensible of the evils to which it is exposed. Amongst these he ranks idleness; humour, or an indulgence of caprice; conceit; incivility; churlishness, and misanthropy. For each of these he suggests the proper remedies.

In the third part of his work, Mr. B. treats upon happiness; which is considered as arising, in a life of retirement, from independence, agricultural pursuits, diversions and scenery. These streams of rural felicity do not always run pure; and our author candidly and judiciously shews the interruptions and the impurities to which they are most commonly liable.

Upon the subject of rural diversions Mr. B. offers the following just remark.

"As it might justly be thought impertinent for one who is no sportsman to un dertake to estimate the pleasures of fowling and hunting, I shall dismiss this topic very briefly. It is certain that, in point of present gratification, every pleasure is such as it is felt to be; and therefore, if any one finds himself delighted in wandering through the woods with his fowling-piece, or in scouring the country along with dogs and horses, and desperate riders, to the terror of an innocent quadruped, it would be in vain to dispute against his experience. To what persons, or in what cases, such diversions and shall content myself to observe, what I are allowable, I leave others to determine,; suppose none will deny, that, when they are made a principal object, their manifest tendency is to induce an incapacity for nobler enjoyments, and so to lay the foundation of a despicable old age; for it would seem difficult to imagine a character more entirely sunk, and devoid of all respectability, than that of an old worn out sportswasted in mere animal exertions, and whose man, the vigour of whose days has been memory is stored with nothing better than the history of hares and foxes, of rustic adventures and perilous escapes, and who dreams away the evening of life, like the hound sleeping upon his hearth, in retracing the vain images of his wild and sportive excursions."

The pleasures of a literary retirement come next to be considered as they arise from the study of history, philosophy and poetry. The section in which these topics are discussed contains much

useful matter, and concludes with the following remark, no less favourable to the heart than to the understanding of the author.

"A prudent change of studies is indeed no less grateful and salutary to the intellectual, than a change of air or exercise to the animal part of our nature. When the mind is exhausted with long application to scientific or abstruse subjects, she may often find relief in the lighter and more agreeable departments of learning, may expatiate in the interesting field of history, or wander in the flowery paths of poesy; or, if relaxed or scattered, for want of regular exertion, she may apply herself to mathematical, or even to metaphysical enquirics; just as, in regard to the body, it may be proper to climb the hill or to repose in the valley, according to the laxity or tension of the animal system.

"But, however judicious may be his plan for an interchange of studies, there will be frequent intervals when a wise man will quit his books and his speculations, in order to discharge the duties, and to share the innocent pleasures, of ordinary life; when, instead of passing from Locke or Newton to Homer or Virgil, to Thucydides or Livy, he will retire alike from philosophers, poets, and historians, to visit a neighbour, to enjoy the cheerful conversation of his own fireside, or, with an infantine spirit, to divert himself with his children. Non semper arcum tendit Apollo. Man was formed for social intercourse, as well as for solitary contemplation; and when these ends are pursued in a due manner, they contribute to their mutual advancement.”

The pleasures of devotional retirement are next pointed out; from which Mr. B. passes to the fourth part of his treatise, which is intended to obviate a com

mon objection against a life of retire. ment, namely, that it destroys or dimi. nishes usefulness. He fairly contrasts the utility of a public and of a private life; and is thus naturally led to the subject of monasteries. Persuaded, as he is, that these institutions were detri mental to religion, he yet laments that they were so indiscriminately destroyed,

"Especially as they might have been converted to the advantage of the tender sex, who, for want of such retreats, are many of them turned adrift into the wide world, without a guide, and without asylum; and it is to be lamented, that, while the papists are industriously planting nunneries, and other societies of religious, in this country, some good protestants are not so far excited to imitate their example, as to form establishments for the education and protection of young women of serious dispositions, or who are otherwise unprovided, where they might enjoy at least a temporary refuge, be instructed in the principles of true religion, and in all such useful and domestic arts as might prepare and qualify those who were inclined to return into the world, for a pious and laudable discharge of the duties of common life. Thus might the comfort and welfare of many helpless individuals be promoted, to the great benefit of society at large; and the interests of popery, by improving upon its own methods, be consider ably counteracted."

The volume concludes with some ex

cellent remarks upon the choice of life. After this review of its important contents, our readers will be prepared to acknowledge that it merits the most earnest recommendation, to those particu larly who are placed in the retirement, in favour of which it is composed.

IN this little treatise, the author traces the origin of the benevolent affections to a very early period of life; to that which is passed upon the lap and at the breast of the mother. "There is fixed," he observes," in our hearts, when we come into the world, a latent spark of good-will to others; and this is commonly excited into its first activity, by the sensations of pleasure which we experience at our mother's breast." He considers benevolence as being of two kinds :-the passive feeling-and the active habit; on the due mixture of which genuine benevolence depends. If the former pre vails--no benevolent exertions

can be expected; "for we may culti vate sensibility so far as to be too feeble to perform the duties of active charity.” One observation upon this subject is worthy of the regard of the modern novel reader.

"The reading of novels, particularly those of the more impassioned kind, acts, in some measure, on the affections, as strong liquors do on the stomach; and both, in the end, diminish the natural strength and sanity of the individual. And it happens in novelreading as well as in dram-drinking, that a degree of excitement higher than the last is perpetually lusted after; till the nerves become languid and dying by excess of stimulus.-The grief of Niobe ended in her being

changed into a stone. Whether there be any thing like a moral allegory in the fable, I shall not say: but, though it may seem paradoxical, yet I believe it will be found true, that the heart of man is, practically never so hard, as when it has reached its extreme point of softness. Too much of artificial sensibility always, at last, terminates in making the affections as insensible, as the stones that pave our streets.-And the mind, that has been tainted, though, only in a slight degree, with that cant of sensibility which has been lately imported among us in such huge masses from the book-shops of Germany, and which some of our modern dramatists, with more success than wisdom, have introduced upon the stage, is soon brought to regard as vulgar and contemptible the duties and offices of humanity. They, whose heads have been turned dizzy by the fume of this intoxicating sensibility, are above the common offices of humanity. They can live and breathe only in the high empyrean of sensation; and they cannot leave the ideal world of mighty enterprise and gigantic woe

to sooth the ordinary and every-day miseries of their fellow-creatures. No; they belong to too lofty a sphere to execute the low drudgery of vulgar beneficence. Dear me !' exclaims a fine lady, whose nerves are thril ling with the noxious effluvia of some inflammatory romance, how shocking it would be to soil my hands or to offend any of my exquisitely refined senses, in entering the peasant's dirty hovel to carry bread to his ragged family!-No; such paltry occupations were never designed for us; we will keep mounted aloft in the regions of melting sensibility; and will leave such unbecoming toils to be performed by the dull and insensate part of mankind, who never shed one delicious tear over the inchanting pages of a Goëthe or Kotzebue."

IF any considerations can influence the mind of that man who has the temerity to persuade himself that he or his sect is exclusively possessed of religious truth, and the folly to believe that all who subscribe not to the same creed, must "without doubt perish everlast ingly," they are such as are contained in the pages of this small tract. That Zelotes should finally yield to the more forcible arguments of Candidus, is no other than must necessarily happen, to suit the author's purpose; but we ac

knowledge that this does not happen till the contest has been long and fairly carried on. Zelotes urges every principle which the character he personates must be supposed to own, and Candidus very ably supports the more liberal and christian views which must distinguish the enemy of bigotry. Mr. E. is, however, unfortunate in his title. length of the speeches gives the work more of the air of Formal Harangues than of Familiar Conversations.

The

THAT the members of this society act from the best motives, we cannot allow ourselves to doubt: but that the institution has all that claim to general patronage, which they here endeavour to prove, we are disposed to deny.

ART. LXII.

Upon this subject we have much to offer, which will appear with more propriety when the Second Part of the Address shall have been laid before the public.