ART. IX.-Harper's Family Library, No. 15. Life and Times of George IV. By the Rev. GEORGE CROLY. With a portrait, complete in one volume, 12mo. New-York. 1831.

PARADOXICAL as it may sound, we do not know that any publications are more honourable to the age in which we live, as shewing its decidedly intellectual character, than the "Family Library," and others of the same class. The collection just mentioned is a series of masterly compositions, upon various subjects, all of them highly interesting, many of them highly useful, addressed expressly to the popular taste of the day, and calculated, by the very low price at which they are sold, to be brought into an unprecedented circulation. The American publishers deserve all praise for their share in this important and beneficent enterprise. These epithets are not at all too lofty. It is an important and beneficent enterprise, if there ever was one, to contribute so essentially to the diffusion of useful knowledge, to the awakening of a just taste in literature, to the maintenance of a high standard of morality, and, finally, to that grand and crowning result, the formation of what is the very life and soul of all our institutions, an enlightened public opinion.

The pursuits, the interests of a people and an age must be highly intellectual, where such enterprises are profitable speculations to the bookseller. We speak in reference to the great body of the people. Such books as Bayle's Dictionary and the Encyclopédie were accurate indicia of the studies and tendencies of the times which produced them. The former had upon it the stamp of a learned, the latter of a scientific, and bothso far as the élite of mankind were concerned-of a curious and philosophic age. But as there was a great deal less of scholastic speculation, and a great deal more of practical utility and the bold spirit of social improvement, in the Encyclopédie, than had appeared in the more learned collections of any previous age, so things have been ever since going on, but with a progress accelerated in a sort of geometrical ratio, in the same way. We do not believe in the march of mind' as some enthusiasts have explained the phrase. We do not believe that any future age will produce better compositions, or more perfect works of art, than adorn the library and the museum of the present day. We do not believe, that all the powers of chemistry and dynamics put together, and combined and developed ten thousand ways, will add a single cubit to the

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intellectual stature of man-or, that the time will ever come when our Bacons and our Byrons will be regarded as an ordinary sort of people. But we do believe in the blessed effects of the diffusion, through the facilities of modern art and industry, and the tastes of a reading public, of truths which the wise have discovered and taught, and the eloquent have laboured to impress upon the hearts of men. We have great faith in Family Libraries," and "National Libraries," and stereotype editions. We have no doubt but that the number of those to whose happiness literature is necessary, whose leisure moments are saved by it from waste or vice, to be given to elcgant recreation and philosophic thought, is, beyond all comparison, greater now than it was even twenty, nay even ten years ago that it has increased, is increasing, and should, and will, be multiplied to an indefinite extent-and that no better means can be employed for the furtherance of this desirable object, than those of which the publication before us is a favourable specimen.

We are, in truth, but just beginning to see the effects of the art of printing in their true character. The press in the hands of the Stephens' and the Manutius' was a great convenience, but nothing more. It enabled the erudite men of the day to procure learned works more cheaply, and publish them more accurately than while they were in MS. But it was not-except in matters of theology-that mighty instrument of revolution and improvement, which it is since become. Luther, it is true, and the Reformers, shewed, in religious controversy, what might one day be expected of it in politics, in morals and in literature. In subsequent times, too, occasional events have illustrated its tremendous power. In comparison, however, of the perfect day which is beginning to rise upon us, the light which it shed over the world a century or two-or even half a century ago-was like that of the starsbrilliant to look upon, but too distant and isolated to subserve, very materially, the uses of life. But it is now penetrating into the most hidden recesses of society, and warming and cheering with its "precious beams of sacred influence," the lowliest habitations of men. Compare an edition of two or three hundred copies of a Latin folio, or an expensive and showy quarto, for the use of a few learned and cloistered scholars, to one of twice or thrice as many thousands of such books as Milman's History of the Jews, and Southey's Life of Nelson, offered for sale at a price so moderate, as to make them accessible, and in a form so attractive, as to make them tempting, even to those who depend upon their daily labour for

their daily bread! In this diffusion of knowledge throughout all classes of the community-which is only another mode of expression for universal and thorough civilization-consists the true and immeasurable superiority of the modern, over the ancient world. It has been justly remarked that the elegant philosophy of Greece was taught only to the rich. One of the signs by which a new and more happy order of things was immediately recognized, was, that the gospel was preached to the poor; and the same philanthropic spirit, the same comprehensive views of improvement and usefulness, appear in all the institutions of the Christian world. It was the boast of Socrates, that he had brought down philosophy from heaven to dwell among men-but her abode upon earth was still confined to the Academy, the Lyceum and the Portico. It has been reserved for a later age to complete the work which he only began, by making her empire universal.

That the tastes of the age are every day becoming more intellectual, and its pursuits more grave and manly, is a fact, which has been often remarked, and which no attentive observer will call in question. Every thing shews it—from the subversion of thrones to the failure of theatres. Mankind are no longer pleased with the mummeries, great and small, which once dazzled and captivated them. The "king-times," as Lord Byron expresses it, are going by, if not gone already; and by an apparently odd, though we think very natural coincidence, the æra of harlequin and scaramouch seems to be going by too. Even the Parisian consoles himself no more under political grievances at the opera comique. The people aim now at something higher than the panis et circenses, which satisfied them during so many centuries of brutish degradation. They begin, at length, to want the real and serious interests of lifeto feel the deep, insatiable cravings, and to entertain the lofty aspirations, of an intelligent nature. They have tasted of the tree of knowledge, and the fruit of that long forbidden tree, makes all grosser or more frivolous pleasures, in the long-run, appear as vapid as they are vile. This speculation is an interesting one, and might be pursued to many consequences. The general result of it, however, would be, that this change of tastes, which accompanies or follows the diffusion of knowledge, leads, necessarily to the cultivation of all the highest virtues, and the most masculine energies of the human character, and is most intimately connected with the freedom, the happiness and the dignity of the species.

While we boast, however, of the solid advantages which we enjoy, we are told that the age is remarkable for the absence VOL. VII.-No. 13.

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of lofty enthusiasm and for a sort of mechanical mediocrity in all things. And this charge is, perhaps, true to a certain extent. The tendency of all discipline is levelling, and although it levels principally upwards, we fear that it does produce some effect in a contrary direction. In a very improved state of society, the differences among men must necessarily be less than in its earlier stages. You never hear of a tall tree in a forest, says Voltaire-and so prodigies of intellect cease, when all men are enlightened, and many of them distinguished by cultivated talent. The pride of superiority, the love of admiration, the exultation of success-all great stimulants to exertion, and highly conducive to the enthusiasm of genius-are rebuked by the criticism of such an age, and by the claims of rival merit. Even the author of Waverly, for instance, excites far less wonder now than he did some thirteen or fourteen years ago, because so many successful aspirants, from whom nothing was expected, have-without exactly disputing the palm with him-run a similar career. Novels, and very interesting Novels, are as common as if they were done by machinery. So it is with poetry. There are at any time to be found in the magazines and newspapers of the day, as good, often incomparably better, verses than Waller or Shenstone ever wrote-and yet if these flowers are not born to blush unseen, they are at least left by the public to wither and die where they grew, merely from the indifference which excess always creates. If there were no press, much of this mechanical literature-however decent and respectable and useful in its way-would never be uttered and published at all. And if some revolution of society, like the irruptions of the Northern barbarians, were superadded to the absence of printing, all but the very best works, the models of excellence in the various departments of genius, would disappear once more. Certainly there is a great redundancy of literary labour, if we consider the chief end of the cultivation of letters to be the production of a few master-pieces in their respective kinds. But not so, if these studies be regarded in their proper light, as instruments of public utility. The most ordinary compositions, provided their purposes be moral, may eminently contribute, by the diffusion, in a popular form, of correct opinions and useful knowledge, to the accomplishment of the important objects to which we have already alluded. Like the daily newspaper, or the periodical work, they are published with a view exclusively to the present generation, and if they answer their end, as they may, without aspiring to the admiration of connoisseurs, or to posthumous renown, they may well be classed among the greatest blessings of society.

The publishers of the "Family Library," however, aim at much more than the circulation of books, which however useful in this way, are not remarkably good as compositions. On the contrary, as we hinted in our opening remarks, they purpose to make the entire series the production of authors of eminence, who have acquired celebrity by former literary labours," and thus to form an "American Family Library, comprising all that is valuable in those branches of knowledge which most happily combine amusement with instruction."

We have placed at the head of this article, the last but one of the series that has yet appeared-" The Life and Times of George IV." by Mr. Croly. We have selected this volume not because it is among the best of the series, (which it is very far from being) but because we think it has been hardly dealt with in some of the daily journals. It is certainly obnoxious to a good deal of criticism. It has too much the appearance of having been hastily got up, like a mere article of trade furnished to order. Many of the anecdotes and bon mots collected in it, had not only seen the light before, but were rather the worse for wear. There is too little done to answer the expectations raised by the mere mention of so great an æra. The style, too, is Salathiel all over-it is ambitious and declamatory throughout, and not unfrequently falls into downright fustian and extravagance. There are too many paragraphs like the following:

"America had just taken the bold step of declaring her independence; France was almost openly preparing for war. Every lurking bitterness of fancied wrong, or hopeless rivalry, throughout Europe, was starting into sudden life at the summons of America. The beacon burning on the American shores was reflected across the Atlantic, and answered by a similar blaze in every corner of the Continent. Even at home, rebellion seemed to be rising, scarcely less in the measured hostility of the great English parties, than in the haughty defiance and splendid menace of Ireland, then half-phrenzied with a sense of young vigour, and glittering in her first mail." p. 30.

"This speech, whether suggested by the Duke of Portland, (as was rumoured,) or conceived by the prince, was obviously ministerial. But in those days, when the lord of the treasury might in the next month be thundering at the head of its assailants, and in the month after be flinging back their baffled bolts from the secure height of ministerial power; when in one month he might be the rebellious Titan, and in the next the legitimate Jove, the waving of whose curls shook the Olympus of Downing-street from its summit to its base; the rapid changes of the administration made ministerial allegiance curiously fugitive. Before the worshipper had time to throw himself at the foot of the altar, the idol was gone, and another was in possession; before the cargo of fealty could reach the port, the port was in dust and ashes, or a hostile