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tion and Conscientiousness, the former will produce only that degree of self-respect which is essential to dignity of character, and that degree of independence of sentiment, without which even virtae cannot be maintained.

If Cautiousness large is combined with deficient Combativeness, the individual will be extremely timid. If Combativeness be large, and Cautiousness small, reckless intrepidity will be the result. If Combativeness be equally large, with Cautiousness, the individual will display courage regulated by prudence. If Cautiousness, Conscientiousness, Self-esteem, Secretiveness, and Love of Approbation, are all large, and Combativeness moderate, bashful. ness or mauvaise honte will be the consequence. This feeling is the result of the fear of not acquitting one's-self to advantage, and thereby compromising one's personal dignity."

Rule third. "Where all the organs appear in nearly equal proportions to each other, the individual, if left to himself, will exhibit oppo. site phases of character, according as the animal propensities or moral sentiments predominate for the time. He will pass his life in alternate sioning and repenting. If external influence is brought to operate upon him, his conduct will be greatly modified by it; if placed, for instance, under severe discipline, and moral restraint, these will cast the balance, for the time, in favour of the higher sentiments; if exposed to the solicitation of profligate associates, the animal propensities will probably obtain triumphant sway. Maxwell, who was executed for housebreaking and theft, is an example of this combination. In him, the three orders of organs are amply developed, and, while subjected to the discipline of the army, he preserved a fair reputation; but when he fell into the company of thieves, he adopted their practices, and was hanged."

We have but little to offer in the way of literary criticism on these 5 Elements." The style, consistent with the subject, is neat and clear; and, where the topics permit it, elegant and nervous. The arrangement, also, is good. The work commences with a brief history of the origin and progress of the science. A delineation of the organs, their situation, and functions, is next presented; and the subsequent part of the Book treats of the Size, Activity, and Combinations of the Faculties. We should have preferred it, however, had these latter disquisitions been kept separate from the practical directions with which they are blended; but perhaps it would have been difficult to keep apart the principles and the practice.

The following passage will probably excite a smile amongst some of our readers, and the arrows of ridicule may perhaps be repointed against the system. It happens, however, that there are many things which are indisputably true, yet, when they come on us by surprise, excite the risible faculties.

“If we suppose the unknown parts at the base of the brain to be the organs of Hunger and Thirst, as several facts indicate, then Tune combined with these parts large, would be directed to Bachanalian songs; if combined with these small, and Veneration large, hymns would become the objects of its manifestation; but, in either cases, Tune would perform only its primitive function of producing melody."

We have abstained from introducing our own peculiar views on this curious subject; for, although some of our fraternity are professors of the system, and others are sincere disciples, whose general talents entitle them to respect; yet, in the numerous society from which this Journal proceeds, there are some sceptics and some opponents; and, in reference to them, we have withheld any arguments of our own.

We are, besides, inclined to think that, in leaving our author to speak for himself, we have best consulted the interest of his favorite subject.

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Myrtle Leaves ; a Collection of Poems, chiefly Amatory.

By T. W. Kelly.-pp. 114. London.

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Poor Anacreon! he was a lover of love and wine, but he died of a grape-stone!

The author of these poems has a taste for love and wine also; and is he not sometimes nearly choked, like his exemplar? In the five following instances, the confounded grapestones appear to have stuck in his throat, like Macbeth's Amen :

“ The passport to heaven is thy lips to be sealing."
“ Nay, so much is the rose like you,
To every charm with which it breathes

That e’en your heart is, faith, 'tis true,
The iron lodged within its leaves."

“ Until the dawn,

Of soft-eyed morn,

Arous'd me with its fragrant dew.”
* And this the urchin's last bequeath,

Dark hemlock in a rosy wreath."
"Oh, that there were such fount extant !"

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The author, however, says, in his Preface, that he “is aware that the fastidious reader may discover many minor faults in his productions; and all he can say in his vindication is, that the



present volume is his first effort, and that this fact will perhaps procure for him a candid and an indulgent consideration.”

A plea so reasonable must be admitted, while the poems remain in manuscript. But in so brief a production as an anacreontic, or epigram, we expect finer finish and higher polish than in the bolder efforts of genius. It is by their elegance that they should be chiefly recommended. Homer may sometimes be permitted to nod; he takes us a long journey, and we should only wonder that he is not wearied more frequently. But Anacreon, at the convivial board, expatiating on love; and, quaffing the blood of the grape, do we expect him to sleep? No-he must be lively and witty: his blood must tingle warmly in his veins, and smiles and hilarity sparkle in his eye, and mirth illuminate his ruddy forehead, till the flow of soul become absorbed in another flood ; then, indeed, we consent he should close the volume, and write “finis" to the

page. Our Anacreon, who translated the Anacreon of Greece into most excellent English–Irish; to his love of wine and woman, added that of music. In the volume before us, Mr. Kelly does not allude to any peculiar affection which he has for that delightful art. From the fine perception, and ready facility in the production, of harmony, for which Mr. Moore is remarkable, he has acquired a power of so sporting with his verse, that let him throw his numbers about in what manner he will, they always fall, like cats, upon their feet. In this delicate feeling of the peculiar music of the lyric, the present author is mainly deficient. He is deficient in ease, and that nice touch, which strikes the lyric chord lightly, but effectually. His hand lies heavy upon his harp, and the pressure of his finger is heard: the body of the wire passes into the sound, and grates upon an ear exquisitely attuned to the sweeter delicacies of the soul of melody

The volume, however, is not without a degree of merit, and some of the epigrams are pointed. It contains some introductory lines written by the late Princess Charlotte Saxe-Cobourg, which were transcribed from a superbly bound and ornamented quarto volume of original manuscript miscellaneous poetry, illustrated with her own coloured drawings. This book, during a temporary circumstance, was given into the care of the author. The two verses in question appear to have been considered by the much lamented princess as appropriate introductory lines to her poem. They follow :

" 'The sparkling gem from fancy's stores,

The sterling ore from reason's mine,
Thy penetrating glance explores,

And faithful memory makes them thine.

Thus Zeuxis formed his matchless fair,

In whom all charms were seen to meet ;
And thus amidst the fields of air,

The bee collects each varied sweet."

An epigram or two may tend to relieve the severe characteristics of our Journal-we therefore insert the following, which, doubtless, the reader will concur with us in thinking entitled to this distinction.


From the French of Chaulien.

“DEAR Phyllis, you say that my constancy trips,

Whenever I meet with new eyes, or fresh lips;
I own it, for ah! late experience has shewn,
You are right, love, it tripped at the sight of your own."


“NAY, woman is not the soft sex, my dear Fan,

Or why is her heart hard as stone ?
Pray, tell me, was Eve formed of flesh, like the man?

No, no, she was formed of the bone."


“The miniature, Phyllis, you are shewing us now,

Proves the artist with you well acquainted;
That 'tis monstrously like you, we all must allow,

When we see, as we do, that 'tis painted."


“Kiss me again! there's no one near!

• Nay, nay, you kiss and tell, I fear;' Well, kiss me, dear, until I die,

You are sure, then, of my secrecy."


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