shall transcribe the little of a contrary tendency, in the criticism on the translation of Aristotle. Matter of dissension, it is remarked in the following page, is immaterial in this history.'

It is, however, the opinion of some who are well skilled in the peripatetic philosophy, that Dr Gillies in his translation has not in the least preserved the manner of Aristotle; that he frequently mistakes his meaning; and that he has acted indiscreetly in so often uniting en tire sentences of his own with the text of his author. The same critics have likewise wished that the doctor had availed himself of the assis tance of Aristotle's Greek interpreters, as many of their commentaries are replete with uncommon erudition, and are inestimably valuable (particularly those of Simplicius) for the numerous and large extracts which they contain from the writings of philosophers prior to, or con temporary with, the Stagirite himself. Hence they are of opinion that the doctor was neither sufficiently aware of the difficulty, nor well pre pared for the execution, of such an undertaking; and that in consequence of this, he has procured for himself a reputation more extended than durable, and more shining than solid,' P. 234.

The life of lord Hobart contains some just information, and is, on the whole, a very favourable representation: that of Mr. Bidlake is not very interesting. The life of lord Loughborough is warmly panegyrical; indeed, unaccountably so, if we consider the complexion of the work, which, we must acknowledge, is, in the present volume, somewhat altered: the editors cannot adopt our new motto-' Qualis ab incepto.'

The life of Dugald Stewart is coloured somewhat highly, approaching, perhaps, to a French éloge; but is, on the whole, an admirable specimen of philosophical biography. The author is no common writer, and no mean metaphysician. Is it can it be-Dr. Stewart himself? From the life of Dr. Blair, which is truly excellent, we shall select the conclusion.

In conversation Blair has never affected the praise of a wit, or a disputant. He has never been engaged in any literary quarrels. Scarcely ever had any man of such distinguished eminence fewer enemies. It has been his care never to shew his mind otherwise than in full dress, or in a handsome deshabille, adjusted with all the care and decorum of full dress. Propriety and delicate correctness preside over his social and convivial manners just as much as over his writings. Now in the eighty-second year of his age, he still enjoys all the primary vigour of his faculties unimpaired; and enjoys a state of health still equal to the duties of life and the pleasures of social converse. His fortune has long been, comparatively speaking, very ample: he is enabled to keep his carriage, and to live, in every other respect, in a similar style of expence. An only daughter, of great accomplishments, was taken away from him by a fever, in the very flower of her

youth and beauty. Mrs. Blair, a very excellent and amiable woman, who was nearly about the same age with her husband, died a few years since. Moderation, discretion, assiduity, chearfulness, benig nity, uprightness, fervent and rational piety, a sensibility to honoura ble and deserved applause, that makes him enjoy, yet without vanity or undue exaltation, that fame which has so justly crowned his merits, are the most remarkable qualities of his character. He is reverenced as the ornament, the pride of the city in which he dwells, of his country on which he has reflected so much literary glory. When Providence shall remove him to a better world, as his life has long proved itself a national blessing, so his death will be lamented as a public calamity.' . 302.

Of Mr. Barry, Mrs, Robinson, and Mr. John Ireland, we find little that is new or peculiarly interesting. Of the early youth of the first, we have some pleasing anecdotes; and the life of the last is amusing, Mrs. Robinson has been already the subject of our remarks, in the Memoirs written by herself, to which little is added of importance. The account of sir W. Beechey is apparently authentic, and contains judicious criticisms, somewhat panegyrical, on his works,

The life of the duke of Portland follows, and is rather incomplete. The latter part, apparently not suited to the politics of the author, is hastily passed over; much should have been added.

In the life of sir Joseph Banks, we have a short history of the Royal Society, and a well-compacted account of its institution, its objects, and the disturbances which agitated it some years since. The whole is favourable to the president, and is apparently correct and authentic. Truth has, however, put on her fairest and most flowery garb; but she is still Truth. The lives of sir Peter Parker and Mr. Edmund Cartwright, the poet, offer nothing peculiarly interest, ing.

An account of lord Grenville was an arduous undertaking; and, while the latter part is hastily passed over, the author enlarges particularly on that nobleman's conduct in the rupture with France. He gives a clear and satisfactory view of the subject, offering no particular opinion, and appearing candid as well as unbiassed. The objects of lord Grenville's acts are also explained, without the breath of censure or a hint of disapprobation. Indeed, where a difference in political opinions is opposed to the necessity of censure, in a work in which the latter is studiously avoided, a neutral mixture must be the result.

A decent but much too extensive biographical sketch is given of Dr. Hawes; and it is followed by a life of Mr. Edmund Randolf. This gentleman was secretary of state to the American republic, and involved in some difficulties in con

sequence of his supposed partiality to France, which ended in his resignation of that office. These difficulties are explained with seeming clearness; but, with how much impartiality, requires a knowledge that we do not possess.

Mr. Paul Sandby and Mr. John Clerk, the author of an Essay on naval Tactics, which we highly commended, and whose principles we have often brought forward to the notice of the reader, next share the biographer's attention. A very warm eulogy on Dr. Lettsom, with so minute a detail of facts, as renders the source at least suspicious, follows. But, were there a doubt, it is dispelled, by the introduction of the famous thermometer. This, however, is to us a tender ground:-we must hasten on.

The few lives that follow deserve little of praise or censure; and the accounts are plain, candid, and sufficiently satisfactory. The life of Mr. Colman is amusing: that of Dr. Anderson perhaps not sufficiently full and discriminated: that of the prince de Bouillon is interspersed with some interesting anecdotes of the isle of Jersey. The prince--in reality, captain Auvergne-has lately become a personage of importance; and, had not Malta been in the way, might have been alone the source of a war between France and England, as the insult offered to him in France was taken up warmly by some of the members of the British parliament, since M. Auvergne was an English subject.

One other volume of these characters is published, which we shall consider very soon.

ART. XIV. A rough Sketch of modern Paris; or, Letters on Society, Manners, public Curiosities, and Amusements, in that Capital. Written during the last two Months of 1801 and the first five of 1802. 8vo. 6s. 6d. Boards. John

son. 1803.

THE intention of the present work is, avowedly, to describe the internal situation of the French capital, excluding all religious and political discussions; to point out to strangers the objects most interesting in Paris; to convey some previous information to those who intend going thither; and to lay before such as are prevented, by other occupations, from undertaking the journey, an account of the pleasures, festivals, buildings, and mode of living, in that metropolis: and, if we may judge by a comparison with his fellow tourists, this author has certainly executed his task in a manner which entitles him to very superior credit. His stay in Paris was very considerable; and his time appears to have been laudably employed in acquiring a vast mass of informa

tion relative to the subjects announced in the title-page, which he communicates in a style always perspicuous and entertaining, and often elegant and picturesque. Although he avows that he carried with him English opinions, English society, and English manners, as a sort of criterion or standard, his reflexions arise immediately from the facts before him; and very little that deserves the name of prejudice will be found to distort his descriptions or misguide his sentiments. Indeed, with regard to the leading features of the Parisian character, we have scarcely found any difference of opinion, either among our travelers, or the statistical writers of their own nation. All describe what they have seen; and all saw the same phænomena.

The Sketch is divided into letters: the first, which gives an account of our author's journey from Calais, contains nothing very interesting. In letter II, he commences his series of observations on the palace and gardens of the Tuilleries, the Louvre, the picture-gallery, &c. The gardens of the Tuil leries have undergone little alteration, but the palace has received some improvement; and, when the new plan is fully executed, the residence of the first consul will greatly exceed in magnificence all the palaces of Europe.' Our author's feelings on entering the musée central des arts, or picture-gallery of the Louvre, are too interesting to be omitted.

• At length I found myself in the magnificent room, which I have before mentioned, the walls of which are covered as far as the eye can -reach with the sublimest efforts of human art. Where the mind has long been promised a pleasure, when fancy has dressed it in all her choicest colours, how seldom does the reality approach the phantom of heated imagination. For once I was not disappointed. I expected it is true, a high gratification. I had formed to myself an exalted idea of the objects, which I was about to visit, yet the satisfaction I felt exceeded, far exceeded, what I supposed it possible for the power of sight to afford; nor did I believe that the hand of man was capable of attaining that degree of perfection, which I now beheld. For some time I was lost in wonder, I knew not where to fix my enraptured eye. A catalogue which was offered me, by one of the attendants, and which, as I afterwards found, is drawn up with great clearness and precision, roused me from this pleasing reverie, and gave some order to the train of my thoughts. The arrangement of the collection is admirable.

After viewing the masterpieces of Le Sueur, Le Brun, Nicolas Poussin, and the three Van Loos, I supposed I had already seen the utmost efforts of the art, and even, under this supposition, was ready to allow that my highest ideas of the power of painting fell short of what these specimens presented. Think of my surprise, when, looking on my catalogue, I found that I had not yet passed the limits of the French school. Astonished and delighted I went on. The Fle

mish, Dutch, and German masters occupy the second division. Among them I beheld the exquisite works of Van Dyck, of Hans Holbein, of Paul Potter, of Rembrant, of Teniers, and of Rubens. Sublime as were the first objects that had claimed my admiration, even they were exceeded by the latter. Nor had I yet seen the acme of the art Charmed with the fancy and execution of all the Flemish painters, I was particularly pleased with the beautiful pasturage, by Paul Potter, every object of which seems alive on the canvass.

A few steps would bring me in view of the wonders of Italy, to see which so many of my countrymen had crossed the Alps; yet so enraptured was I with the objects already before me, that it required all the importunity of my companions, to persuade me to proceed. I was soon rewarded for this temporary sacrifice, and in contemplating the almost supernatural works of Correggio, of Caravaggio, of the Carracci, of Dominichino, of Guido, of Leonardo da Vinci, of Paul Veronese, of Raphael and of Titian, I discovered, that what I had seen before were only so many links in the great chain of perfection, wish which was now complete. If among these models of the art, you me to name some particular picture, I should give the preference to expression, the communion of St. Jerome, by Dominichino, which in colouring, feeling, and variety, seems to me to possess every beauty united.' P. 12.

At this place he found artists of both sexes occupied in taking copies of the paintings; which he thinks will conduce to improvement in the art. We suspect, however, that more utility is ascribed to this practice than will be found to result. Copying will make mannerists, but not artists: we shall have many imitators of style, but none of composition. The liberal principles, however, on which every thing relating to this gallery is conducted, do honour to the government. A remark on the double light, which prevents the pictures from being seen to advantage, is thrown into a note; an artist would have probably expatiated on what is certainly a fatal objection to the construction of a picture-gallery. This letter concludes with some judicious remarks on the statues, and a catalogue of the pictures.

Letter III contains an account of the féte in honour of the preliminaries of peace: from this we shall glean a few particulars of what is principally interesting in this work-the of a note.. manners of the Parisians. The following is part

Spectacle. This is so important a word, and of such general use in French conversation, that I cannot too soon introduce it to the notice of my English readers. It means, first, all the theatres, puppetshows, pantomimes, horse exercises, and other motley amusements of this gay capital.

It is also perpetually in the mouths both of gentlemen and ladies. If you ask one of the former, whether he were pleased with the opera, he replies, "Oui, enchanté; le spectacle étoit magnifique." (Yes, delighted; the spectacle was magnificent.) And if you put a similar