flesh-i. e. " totus teres atque rotundus." Still, a suitable introduction, furnished by a kindred genius, would in our idea be, if not useful, somewhat ornamental. The Pantheon of republican Rome, however perfect in the simple design of its primitive architecture, derived a supplementary grace from the portico superadded by Agrippa. All that remains for us to say, under the circumstances, is to deprecate the evil constructions which clumsy "journeymen" may hereafter put on the work. In our opinion, it can bear none. The readers of "Fraser's Magazine" will recognise these twelve Papers as having been originally put forth, under our auspices, in one year's consecutive Numbers of “ Regina,”—i. e. from the 1st of April, 1834, to the recurrence of that significant date in 1835. For reprinting them in their present shape we might fairly allege the urgent request of friends,” had not the epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot made that formula too ridiculous: we will therefore content ourselves by stating, that we merely seek to justify, by this undertaking, the confidential trust reposed in us by the parish of Watergrasshill. Much medita 66 ting on the materials that fill "the chest," and daily more impressed with the value of so rare a character as our author must appear to all connoisseurs, we thought it a pity that his wisdom should be suffered to evaporate in monthly squibs. What impression could, in sooth, be made on the public mind by such ephemeral explosions? Never on the dense mass of readers (Bombardinio tells us) can isolated and random shots produce the effect of a regular feu de peloton. For this reason we have placed in juxtaposition and arranged in these two volumes (as in a double tier) our files of mental musketry, determined to secure a simultaneous discharge. The hint, perhaps, of right belongs to the ingenious Fieschi. We have been careful to preserve the order of succession in which these essays first met the public eye, prefixing to each such introductory comments as from time to time we felt disposed to indulge in, with reference to synchronous occurrences-for, on looking back, we find we have been on some occasions historical, on others prophetical, and not unfrequently rhapsodical. This latter charge we fully anticipate, candidly con fessing that we have been led into the practice by the advice and example of Pliny "the younger:" 66 ipsá varietate," are his words, "tentamus efficere ut alia aliis, quædam fortasse omnibus placeant." This would appear to constitute the whole theory of miscellaneous writing: nor ought it to be forgotten by the admirers of more strictly methodical disquisition, that "L'ennui naquit un jour de l'uniformité." Caterers for public taste, we apprehend, should act on gastronomic principles; according to which, "toujours Prout" would be far less acceptable than "toujours perdrix:" hence the necessity for a few hors d'œuvres. We have hitherto had considerable difficulty in establishing, to the satisfaction of refractory critics, the authenticity of one simple fact; viz. that of our author's death, and the consequently posthumous nature of these publications. ple absurdly persist in holding him in the light of a living writer: hence a sad waste of wholesome advice, which, if judiciously expended on some reclaimable sinner, would, no doubt, fruc Peo tify in due season. loss-Prout is a literary mummy! Folks should look to this: Lazarus will not come forth to listen to their strictures; neither, should they happen to be in a complimentary mood, will Samuel arise at the witchery of commendation. In his case 'tis all a dead Objects of art and vertù lose considerably by not being viewed in their proper light; and the common noonday effulgence is not the fittest for the right contemplation of certain capi d'opera. Canova, we know, preferred the midnight taper. Let, therefore," ut fruaris reliquiis," (Phæd. lib. i. fab. 22.) the dim penumbra of a sepulchral lamp shed its solemn influence over the page of Prout, and alone preside at its perusal. Posthumous authorship, we must say, possesses infinite advantages; and nothing so truly serves a book as the writer's removal by death, or transportation from the sphere or hemisphere of his readers. The "Memoirs of Captain Rock" were rendered doubly interesting by being dated from Sidney Cove. Byron wrote from Venice with increased effect. Nor can we at all sympathise with the exiled Ovid's plaintive utterance, "Sine me, liber, ibis in urbem." His absence from town, he must have known, was a right good thing for his publisher under "the pillars." But though distance be useful, death is unquestionably better. Far off, an author is respected; dead, he is beloved. Extinctus, amabitur. This theory is incidentally dwelt on by Prout himself in one of his many papers published by us, though not comprised within the present limited collection. In recounting the Roman adventures of his fellow-townsman Barry, he takes occasion to contrast the neglect which his friend experienced during life, with the rank now assigned him in pictorial celebrity. Ainsi les maîtres de la lyre Partout exhalent leur chagrins; Vivans, la haine les déchire, Et ces dieux, que la terre admire, Long-tems la gloire fugitive Semble tromper leur noble orgueil; Croit plus belle près d'un cercueil. FONTANES, Ode à Chateaubriand. |