face. The origin which he assigns those sophisticated parts of the sacred text, in ascribing them to the early Hereticks, involves a contradiction not less supremely absurd. Both the sects, into which they branched, rejected the prophetical writings, on which the proscribed passages are obviously built; nay, rejected the very doctrines which those passages tend to support: the Gnostics having denied that our Lord was at all born, the Ebionites that he was born unless in the natural way +. Let us even wave these objections, and grant, that the testimonies to which he appeals, are genuine, and, in point; even on their evidence, his theory may be fundamentally overthrown, by means of the very concessions, which he has made. Slender as the support is which the Unitarian Creed derives from the testimony of Jews or Heathens, even this nominal or apparent advantage, he has contrived to betray into the enemies' hands. The doctrine of the Trinity, which his predecessors have commonly traced to the corruptions of Platonism; he absolutely vindicates from the aspersion, explicitly denying that they possess any thing in common. The mystic theology of St. John he affirms is only to be explained by the modified Pla tonism of Philo. Though Philo bas explicitly maintained all the peculiar doctrines of the Orthodox Faith, without acknowledging one characteristic tenet of the Unitarian Creed; though he has absolutely abjured that Creed, by denying that any thing human or corporal could be annexed to the Son of God. The allegorising spirit of Philo still afforded a loop-hole of evasion, to escape the consequences of these unanswerable concessions. Yet even this advantage the ingenious advocate before us has contrived to throw away; from the first passage which he quotes from Philo, he not only infers, but proves, the personality of the Logos, asserting his identity with Christ (p. 4.). Having advanced so much to illustrate and set off our author's polemical talents; we would not willingly dismiss the subject of his work, without offering some specimens of his skill in translation. In a reference to Orig. Lib. II. we are informed, p. 181," and other Jews give the name of Ebionites to those who received Jesus as the Christ." The original of this passage is thus expressed ; καὶ Εβιοναῖοι χρηματίζεσιν οἱ ἀπὸ Ἰδαίων τὸν Ιησῶν, ὡς Χριστὸν παραδεξάμενοι, in which, of course, * Vid. supr. p. 243. n. I. S. Iren. adv. Hær. Lib. I. cap. xxiv. § 2. p. 100. cap. xxvi 1. p. 105. Bryant. ub, supr. Præf, P. V. P. I. p. 16-22, વં οἱ ἀπὸ Ιεδαίων, signifies " other Jews,” χρηματίζεσι is taken as an active verb, and ECovato consequently as a noun in the accusative. If this improvement, however, has not the authority of the Greek, it possesses at least that of the Latin, if the 66 et Ebionæi old version of Gelenius be taken as authority; dicuntur a ceteris Judæis, qui Jesum pro Christo receperunt :" where xenuatice is, however, properly rendered " dicuntur." Conf. Orig. Tom. I. p. 385. n. f. ed. Bened. On confronting the original Latin with the following English version, which has been already noticed, (supr. p. 347) we are at a loss whether to admire more, the accuracy or honesty of the translator; " In the days of Tiberius Cæsar many impieties were perpetrated not in Judea only; even in Rome the city of royalty many impieties were perpetrated." P. 106. "In diebus Tiberii Cæsaris non tantum in Judæa tales factæ sunt stultitiæ, sed et Romæ, et in omnibus terris dominii ejus fecerunt stultitias majores, quam stultissimi ex populis." We pass over the absurdity of making Josippon term "Rome, the city of royalty" while Jerusalem was standing; the grammatical skill by which that meaning is extracted from the words "Roma-in omnibus terris dominii ejus" rather induces us to suspect, that "dominii" has been taken in a sense and construction, which may be easily discovered from the translation. With this remark we commit the vile work before us, to that obscurity in which it has long lain; and in which it should have 'continued for us, had it not been for the unwise zeal of its be sotted admirers. The author, whose pretensions we have by this time fully exposed, is, as it appears, a person of some celebrity, in the estimation of the sect of which he is a minister. Catalogue of Books distri By enrolling his volume in the " buted by the Unitarian Society for promoting Christian Knowledge and the Practice of Virtue," they have imposed the duty on us of furnishing the bane with its antidote. While we are curious to ascertain the sense, of the reverend conclave who aim at this object by such means, on the best method of propagating irreligion and the practice of vice; we venture to believe that we have already taken one effectual step towards frustrating their success in their infamous endeavours. We are indeed grossly deceived in their characters, if for the future, they prove not more shy, in committing themselves, with another blundering advocate; if, even at present, they do not heartily rue the hour, in which they incautiously exposed their own pretensions to learning and sense, by making a common cause, with the wretched dunce, who has drawn down our animadversion. ART. ART. II. The Cadet; a Poem, in Six Parts: containing THIS title page is what, in the jargon of his country, an American would denominate a lengthy one; and it is but too ominous of the book itself. The sight of two closely printed volumes of verses is, indeed, always enough to make the critic, who has to review them, feel a sort of shudder; and it is not often that, in the perusal of them, he receives any indemnification for his preliminary fears. On the present occasion, we have suffered that which seems to be the common lot of our frateruity; namely, apprehensions, too well justified by the event. The preface to these volumes does not afford much ground for hope, either in its style, or its tenor. The author is "a very young man," and when the poems were composed, “was still a minor." This excuse, which has been offered at least a million of times before, may, and in fact ought to gain pardon for an exuberance of imagination, and an unformed taste, but it only renders more heinous the terrible sin of dulness. What is to be expected from the frost of age, when even the fire of youth fails to produce the signs of vigour. The writer appears, in reality, to be visited by heavy forebodings. His book, he says, "May possibly drop from the press, with many others, which fame shall reject as unworthy; and may be doomed, with them, to sail down the daily current of chance, until, pelted at by the swarms from the critic hive, it may miss the haven of popularity; and overwhelmed at length, by the blustering squalls of splenetic censure, sink never to rise again." We cannot say that we greatly admire either the figurative language or the style of this sentence, and we can laugh, with infinite good humour, at the hackneyed accusation which it makes against the candour of critics; but we must own that in one point the author is tolerably right, and that it is highly possible that fame will act in the manner which he anticipates. Besides, the modern practice of beginning with an attack on critics, is almost always indicative of, and prompted by, an awkward and unwilling consciousness of demerit. "Sure you don't suspect me of having robbed you?" has betrayed the guilt of more than one rogue who was not previously suspected. The The Cadet, be it known, is a poem, in six parts, filling almost a hundred and sixty pages, and consisting, we imagine, of nearly four thousand lines. "Too much of a good thing," says the old adage: what then must we say of a bad one! The first part is chiefly employed in repeating over and over again certain complaints against the climate of India, and against other disagreeable circunstances, among which the crows and the want of verdure come in for their full share of censure. "Mournful my theme, and dull the task assigned," exclaims the author, and sooth to say, he adapts the style to the subject, and is as dull as heart can desire. Against "hamper'd etiquette" he glows with a manly rage, and labours hard to render it as hateful as possible. "The Colonel's wife (says he) demands the highest place, Frequent you'll hear the Major's lady cry, Pray who taught you to hold your head so high.' A Captain's wife to give herself such airs!— After a good deal more of the same sort, he remembers that his subject is The Cadet, and that the Cadet is not yet embarked. Accordingly, he puts his hero on ship-board, and proceeds to bewail his luckless fate, in being exposed to the rudeness of the commander of the vessel; an evil which, when it happens, is, we suspect, shared with the Cadet by the rest of the passengers. The second part is opened by a heavy lamentation over his own mischance, in having been sent to India, and consequently torn from those friends whom "affection solder'd to his breast." His sorrow for the loss of his father does more credit to his heart, than his manner of expressing it does to his head; and now that we are on this subject, it is merely justice to say, that he seems to be a good-natured and well-intentioned young man. The troubles of the Cadet soon come thick upon him. He is marched up to the Cadet establishment, under the care of a serjeant, and is under the hard necessity of submitting to the intolerable drudgery of being drilled for six months: "Four dreary hours paraded every day, In addition to this, he is obliged to tell his age, and to give in an account of his property; is directed how to spend it; com pelled to go to school; ordered to keep on constantly his belt and bayonet; and forbidden to buy superfluous food, or to dine from his mess, he must have no jolly parties, and, moreover, even on Sundays, he must be in his tent by nine o'clock. "Such as, without a murmur, prompt obey, It is absolutely a shame, 'tis pitiful, tis wondrous pitiful,' that a high spirited youth should be thus restrained by the shackles of discipline and decorum; and we seriously recommend it to the Directors to allow the Cadets to drink, to stray about, and in short to do just as they please; as there can be no doubt that the adoption of such a system would be productive of consequences as beneficial to the British authority in Hindostan, as to the Cadets themselves. In part the third, I by myself I, monopolizes the major portion of the song; and here we find the best, or rather the least bad lines in the poem, and are pleased with the sentiments which they express. But, whenever the author gets back to the Cadet, he drops, past all sounding line, into the gulph of dulness. He cannot bear the idea of controul, and indignantly asks, "Don't harmless worms, which after death despoil The mortal relic, trodden on, recoil?" And a few pages further on, he tells the hapless tribe, of which he sings "Ye taste the mingled chalice of distress; Are placed beneath the guidance of a man; Form'd, one would deem, by Nature's journeyman ;' If it be not, at least it may be so, Ye're given to taste of many a minor woe." The remainder of this part, or canto, is a comment on this 86 may be," and from it we extract the valuable information that "Few, I can boldly venture to aver, Live more dependent than an officer." Part the fourth tells us, that persons in India may probably be robbed, and likewise sent to prison for debt. These two misfortunes do, and, we fear, not unusually, happen in other countries; even in England itself. With respect to jails and their inhabitants |