joins what the folly of man has too often put asunder, even the natural powers he hath given you, and the fupernatural aid he hath promised you; and directs you to work out your falvation with all the diligence of which you are capable, yet to do all in dependence on his Holy Spirit. Let the infallible word of God be the rule of your principles and, of your conduct in this great work. God hath endowed you with rational powers for the important purposes of religion and falvation, and commanded you to employ them chiefly for these ends. It is, therefore, your duty to exert thefe powers in the beft manner you can; for, without your dutiful exertion of the powers which he hath given you, with what confidence can you pray to him for more? He hath graciously promifed to you, as fallen imperfect creatures, the affiftance of his Holy Spirit; it is therefore your duty to ask earnestly his affistance, and if you do fo, you may be affured you shall receive it. The highest exertion of your natural powers, without the concurrence of divine grace, will ever be ineffectual. The grace of God is not promised but to those who afk it, and who wish to concur with it in working out their falvation as God has directed. Difparage not the grace of God, nor exclude your felves from the benefit of it, by attempting this work in your own ftrength. As little do you abuse he grace of God into indolence and a criminal neglect of your natural duty. The work of falvation is the effect of both, let both be conjoined, if you would expect its accomplishment. Let not your moit active diligence make you neglect your prayers for divine affiftance; nor your moft fervent prayers fuperfede your diligence. But ever accompany your beft endeavours with your most earnest prayers to God for his promised Grace, and your most earnest prayers with your beft endeavours. In fhort, exert all your powers with the fame activity as if you had all to perform in your own ftrength; yet do all in dependance on divine grace, being fenfible, that without this you can do nothing effectually." P. 233.

"Nay, compare the religion of Jefus with irreligion and vice, and you will fee it to be eafier than to have no religion at all, but to abandon yourselves wholly to impiety and licentioufnefs. For examine things fairly, and you will find that Chrift requires fewer facrifices and fervices, and thefe much easier than what Satan requires of his fervants, or than wicked men impofe on themselves. Christianity does not require men to facrifice their best interests, the favour of God in time, and the blissful enjoyment of him in heaven to eternity, like impiety; their ferenity of mind, like malice and envy; their contentment and cafe, like worldly ambition; their comfortable enjoyment of the bleffings of divine Providence, like avarice; their peace of confcience in time, and hopes of happiness through eternity, like all unrepented wickedness; but moft effectually promotes your true happiness in this world, and fecures it in the next. It does not require you to give fo much of your money, even in the noble acts of piety to God and charity to men, as the diffolute throw away in profligacy, and the vain in empty fhew; nor to fpend fo much time in the church, or in the elofet, as the diffipated waste in the tavern, or at the gaming-table. It does not fhock your reafon and conscience, like atheism and licentiouf

nels;

nefs; convulfe your mind and body, like violent anger; nor weaken and deftroy them, like intemperance and debauchery. It does not wafte your substance and reduce you to poverty, like idleness or extravagance; nor, like every fpecies of vice, does it expose you to fhame, and forrow, and mifery in this life, and to eternal damnation in the next: But, by faving men from fin, it faves them from mifery; and by guiding them in the ways of righteoufnefs, it leads them through prefent peace and hope to everlafting happiness. What more fhall I fay? Every difpofition and act of unrighteoufnefs, difregard to God, malevolence to men, and inattention to your true and eternal happiness, is repugnant to the best principles of your rational nature, and to your beft interefts as probationers for eternity, and is therefore accompanied with painful uneafinefs and fear. On the contrary, every difpofition and duty of Chriftianity, piety to God, benevolence to men, and a juft regard to your fupreme and everlafting happiness, is right in itself, agreeable to your rational nature, and is accompanied with approbation, pleafure and joy. In every point of view, then, it is evident, that the yoke of Satan, which is fin; and his burden, which is guilt, are moft galling and grievous: but the yoke of Chrift, which is righte oufnefs and peace, is moft gracious and cafy. For with truth it may be faid, that it costs wicked men more labour and pains to fink themfelves into eternal perdition, than, with the promised grace of God, would be neceffary to fecure their eternal happiness." P. 364.

If these are not useful and practical, as well as pious counfels, it is not eafy to fay where they may be found. The pleafare of perufing is only exceeded by that of recommending them, which we do with fincerity and earnestness.

ART. VII. The Poems of Allan Ramfay. A new Edition, corrected and enlarged; with a Gloffury. To which are prefixed, a Life of the Author, from authentic Documents: "and Remarks on his Poems, from a large View of their Merits. In Two Volumes. 8vo. 1l. Is. Cadell and Davies. 1800.

THESE Poems, having been in the hands of the public for

more than half a century, and being univerfally admired where the language of them is understood, are not the proper objects of our criticism. "What has pleafed many, and pleafed long," as the editor obferves in the manner of Johnson,

it would be useless to praise, and idle to cenfure." Yet, in reviewing what is new in the volumes before us, namely, the life of the author, and the remarks on his genius and writings, we may fometimes perhaps be tempted to hazard our own opinion of the merit of Poems, of which the character was ftamped fo many years before the commencement of our Journal.

"It is understood," we are told in the Advertisement, "that Allan Ramfay, the painter, left fome account of his father for

publication; but it is hoped," continues the editor," that the public will be full as well pleafed with the perusal of the life of the author, and the remarks on his Poems, which have been written by the neutral pen of a ftranger."

We quote this fentence, not because we perceive in it any thing which the public is likely either to praise or to cenfure, but because it affords us an opportunity to oblerve how precarious that internal evidence is, upon which critics are wont to attribute anonymous publications to well-known authors; or to refuse to an author the praise which is due to him for an acknowledged work, because that work is not compofed in his ufual ftyle. We are here told, that the life of Allan Ramfay, and the remarks on his genius and writings, are both written by the neutral pen of the fame ftranger; and yet we should find fome difficulty, were we called upon, to point out in the whole circle of English Belles Lettres, two pieces of compofition, which iffued from the prefs at the fame period, and are more unlike to each other than this life and thefe remarks. In the former we have indeed met with much pleafing and curious information; but that information is communicated in a style. which is fometimes barbarous, and always affected, while it is accompanied with acrimonious and petulant remarks: the author appears to have laboured reluctantly on a talk prescribed to him, and to have taken Johnson for his model; in biography an excellent model, without doubt, to him who pofleffes the fagacity and the genius of Johnfon. The remarks, on the other hand, are every where natural and eafy. They are expreffed in language elegantly fimple, and appear to be the fpon1aneous effufions of a man of tafte and genius, writing con amore on his favourite topic of difcuffion.

That our readers may judge for themselves of the truth of this obfervation, we thail make a few extracts, first from the life of the poet, and afterwards from the remarks on his genius and writings, noticing, as we proceed, what we think the beauties and the faults of each.

The biographer introduces his fubject to his readers, in the following pompous paragraphs.

"While history employs her peculiar powers in developing the intrigues of ftatefmen, in adjufting the difputes of nations, and in narrating the events of war, biography bufies her analogous pen in tracing the progrefs of letters, in afcertaining the influence of manners, and in appreciating literary characters. The purfuits of history must be allowed to be moft dignified, the employment of biography is moft pleafing; it is the bufinefs of hiftory to record truth, and to inculcate wifdom; it is the duty of biography to pay just tributes of respect and praife to genius, to knowledge, and to virtue. In every age, and in every nation, individuals have arifen, whofe talents and labours me

rited the notice and the remembrance of the biographer, although in fome periods, and among fome tribes, the tumults of barbarity allowed little leifure or fecurity for collecting anecdotes, and arranging documents, had learning exifted to record and detail them. Among other civilized nations, North Britain has produced her full fhare of genius to be admired, of knowledge to be learned, and of virtue to be imitated. It has, however, been conceived by ignorance, and afferted by dogmatifim, that Scotland did not produce in the century which elapfed in 1715, any perfon, except Burnet, who is worthy of biographical notice, although in fact he did produce in that period, men who were distinguished for their jurifprudence, for their science and learning, for their bravery, and for their wit. It was alfo in that century, which was thus branded by malignity for its infertility of talents, Scotland produced, during a happy moment, Allan Ramfay, her Doric poet, who claims the notice of biography; because he raised himself to diftinction by his talents, and pleafed others by the perufal of his poetry, while he derived a benefit to himself by his powers of pleafing.". P. 5..

That thefe inflated triads have fome refemblance to the style of Johnson, must be acknowledged. It is not, however, to the ftyle in which he begins his biographical Prefaces, but to that, in which, warming with his fubject, he inculcates, in the Rambler, fome moral truth, or, in the Lives of the Poets, fome critical decifion. Johnson, with all his partiality to rounded periods, had too much good fenfe, which we hold to be the bafis of good tafte, to commence a narrative in a style of elevation, which, were it fuited to the fubject, even powers like his could not fupport to the end. How fimply does he begin his life of Milton, though he was to rife, in his analysis of the Paradife Left, to a grandeur of diction, and fublimity of fentiment, furpaffed only in the poem which was the subject of his criticism! While this author, from the affected grandeur of his exordium, finks, during the narrative, into vulgarity and barbarifm.

But it is not to the flyle only of this exordium that we object. It is, indeed, "the duty of biography to pay juft tributes of refpect and praife to genius, to knowledge, and to virtue;" but that duty grafps a larger object. There is no character, at leaft no human character, to which only refpect and praise are due; and it is the bufinefs of the ufeful biographer to distinguifh, in his hero, the minute fhades of virtue and vice; to trace to its latent principle every action, which is of fufficient importance to have a place in the narrative; and to distribute praife or cenfure, as thefe actions and principles appear to deferve the one or the other. This the prefent author has never attempted, unless his repeatedly accufing the Doric poet of va nily be confidered as inflances of his impartial difcernment.

We

We have faid that his ftyle is always affected, and fometimes barbarous and vulgar; and, in proof of our affertion, we give the following fpecimens. Speaking of the popularity of Ramfay's poetry, and of its being regularly bought up, as foon as publifhed, by the women of Edinburgh; he adds, that, "after a while, he attracted, by his facility and naturalness, the notice of perfons of higher rank and better tafte." He fays, that Smibert, the painter, was induced, by the fafcination of Bithop Berkeley, to emigrate with him to Bermudas." He calls the wife of a baronet, who was likewife the daughter of a baronet, " Lady Elizabeth Wardlow." Inftead of the common expreffion, paftoral poetry, he ufes the phrafe "Shepberdifh poetry ;" and talks of " ;" and talks of "elegant raillery, and healthful merriment. He calls a junto of lampooners, of whom he gives a pretty full account, this puritanical poet.

We fpeak with propriety of the facility with which an author writes, and of the naturalnefs of his thoughts and language; but when we talk of his facility and naturalnefs in the abftract, we reprefent him, whether intentionally or not, as but one degree above an idiot. Bishop Berkeley, by every account that we have of him, appears to have been poffeffed of great powers of perfuafion, together with very pleafing and elegant manners, and thefe manners and thofe powers might, without impropriety, have been termed fafcinating; but this is the first time that we have met with fafcination in the abstract attributed to man! On the word fhepherdifh, and on the falfe grammar in the other fentence, we need make no remark.

This clumfy narrative, however, with all its faults, has likewife its merits. We learn from it, that on the 15th of October, 1686, Allan Ramfay was born in the upper ward of Lanarkshire; that, at the age of 15, he was put apprentice to a wig-maker; that in 1712 he married the daughter of an inferior lawyer in Edinburgh, by whom he had many children; that he began to read poetry at the age of twenty; and that "frae twenty-five," when he began to write, to five-andforty, his muse was neither fweer nor dorty." We learn likewife that he was a great frequenter of clubs, by fome of which his earliest poems were publifhed; that he was a paffionate admirer of the drama; that, when fifty years of age, he built "a playhouse at vaft expence ;" and that the rulers of Edinburgh thut up the house foon after it was opened, "leaving him without relief, for what the law confidered as a damage, without an injury." We are not indeed fure that we understand this expreffion; but, in plainer language, the biograper gives a minute account of Ramfay's friends and correfpondents, and of the order and various editions of his works.

The