ating their names by worthy actions and discoveries, governments and reasonings. If the breach be never repaired, it is because God does not see it fit to be; and if you will be of his mind, it will be much the better. But, Sir, if you will pardon my zeal and passion for your comfort, I will readily confess that you have no need of any discourse from me to comfort you. Sir, you have now an opportunity of serving God by passive graces; strive to be an example and comfort to your lady, and by your wise counsel and comfort stand in the breaches of your own family." This letter of Jeremy Taylor is, to my mind, one of the most insipid and heartless effusions that ever flowed from his mighty pen. Evelyn was his friend and patron, and in the destitution to which Taylor was reduced, much like our poor Protestant brethren now in Ireland, that noble-minded and munificent layman felt it his greatest delight to minister to the necessities of his reverend friend. Yet what a jejune performance is the above letter; a compound of bad conceits and worse theology. If the writer really felt on the occasion, his feeling did not prevent his playing with tropes and figures; with witticisms about grief propagating like fire, and joining two funeral torches to make a greater blaze. There is no comfort to a mourner in reading such trash as this. A page transcribed by a Sunday-school child, out of a "Christian Lady's Pocket-book," or Clarke's Promises, would have far outweighed these conceits and dainty imaginings of this Shakspeare of theology. The best thing in the letter is the allusion to Evelyn's own remark, that it was the hand of God; the hand of a Father, whose very chastisements are in love; with the concluding exhortation to serve God by passive graces. How coldly do the reverend divine's conceits and antitheses fall on the ear after Evelyn's beautifully simple and affecting aspirations above quoted. "Such a child I never saw! For such a child I bless God, in whose bosom he is! May I and mine become as this little child, which now follows the child Jesus, that Lamb of God, in a white robe, whithersoever he goeth. Even so, Lord Jesus; fiat voluntas tua! Thou gavest him to us; thou hast taken him from us, blessed be the name of the Lord! That he had any thing acceptable to thee, was from thy grace alone; since from me he had nothing but sin: but that thou hast pardoned; blessed be my God for ever. Amen." The theology of this last sentence is correct to a degree that might not perhaps have been expected. Evelyn says of this child, so dear, so amiable, so early devoted to God, that by nature he had nothing but sin;" that all that was acceptable in him," was from God's grace; but that his sin was freely pardoned, and that he was now following the Lamb of God, in that white robe which is the righteousness of the saints. Over a departed child, thus early instructed, and thus prepared, we may rejoice with a confident hope, which cannot be cherished by a scripturally enlightened mind merely as a tribute to the common-place panegyrics of innocence, and the fulsome topicks of funeral adulation. It is not for any man to affirm what is the youngest age of moral accountableness; or how great are the mercies of God either to children or adults; but to say of a child even of "five years and three days," that he is sinless, is utterly unscriptural. Evelyn's theology was more correct, and his hope more just; "From me he had nothing but sin, but that thou hast pardoned." (To be continued.) Review. Many of our readers, we doubt not, who know something of the character and writings of Sir James Mackintosh, lately deceased, will be gratified with the "brief memoir" of this distinguished man contained in the following article, taken from the Eclectic Review for February last. It there forms about half the Review of a recently published work, entitled THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. By the Right Hon. Sir James Mackintosh, LL.D. M.P. Volume the Third. (Lardner's Cabinet Cyclopædia, Vol. XXXVII.) F.cap. 8vo. pp. xlii. 368. London, 1832. "Sir James Mackintosh had proceeded to the 211th page of this third volume of his History of England, when literature and his country were deprived of him by his lamented death." A melancholy interest attaches to this portion of his unfinished labours; and we avail ourselves of the opportunity, to attempt, with the aid of two well written notices of his life and writings, now before us,* a brief memoir of a man who united in no ordinary degree the qualities, rarely associated, of the philosopher, the jurist, the forensick orator, and the man of let ters. * The father of Sir James Mackintosh was a captain in the army, whose life was chiefly spent in foreign and garrison service. James, the eldest son, was born at Alldowrie in the county of Inverness, on the 24th of October, 1765. For ed to Mr. Hall, he said, "because he could not help it." He was "fascinated by his brilliancy and acumen, in love with his cordiality and ardour, and awe-struck by * The Annual Biography and Obituary. the transparency of his conduct 1833. Vol. XVII. Art. X. North American Review. No. LXXVII. Art. Sir James Mackintosh. The writer of this last article was introduced to Sir James, when on a visit to London in 1817, and during that and some subsequent visits, enjoyed, he says, a good deal of his society. Ch. Adv.-VOL. XI. and the purity of his principles." We cannot refrain from forestalling our notice of Dr. Gregory's Memoir of Mr. Hall, by transcribing from it the following paragraph, describing the intimacy Z mates. "They read together; they sat together at lecture, if possible; they walked together. In their joint studies, they read much of Xenophon and Herodotus, and more of Plato; and so well was all this known, exciting admiration in some, in others envy, that it was not unusual, as they went along, for their class-fellows to point at them, and say, "There go Plato and Hérodotus." But the arena in which they met most frequently, was that of morals and metaphysicks, furnishing topicks of incessant disputation. After having sharpened their weapons by reading, they often repaired to the spacious sands upon the sea-shore, and still more frequently to still more frequently to the picturesque scenery on the banks of the Don, above the old town, to discuss with eagerness the various subjects to which their attention had been directed. There was scarcely an important position in Berkeley's Minute Philosopher, in Butler's Analogy, or in Edwards on the Will, over which they had not thus debated with the utmost intensity. Night after night, nay, month after month, for two sessions, they met only to study or to dispute; yet no unkindly feeling ensued. The process seemed rather, like blows in that of welding iron, to knit them closer together. Sir James said, that his companion, as well as himself, often contended for victory; yet never, so far as he could then judge, did either make a voluntary sacrifice of truth, or stoop to draw to and fro the serra xogoμaxias, as is too often the case with ordinary controvertists. From these discussions, and from subsequent meditation upon them, Sir James learned more, as to principles, (such, at least, he assured me, was his deliberate conviction,) than from all the books he ever read. On the other hand, Mr. Hall through life reiterated his persuasion, that his friend possessed an intellect more analogous to that of Bacon, than any person of modern times; and that if he had devoted his powerful understand ing to metaphysicks, instead of law and politicks, he would have thrown an unusual light upon that intricate but valuable region of inquiry. Such was the cordial, reciprocal testimony of these two distinguished men." Memoir of Robert Hall. (Works, Vol. VI. pp. 14, 15.) a of these two distinguished class- Medical studies, however, had but a small portion of his attention; they had few attractions for him; and we are surprised that he should ever have thought of adopting, as a means of subsistence, a profession so little suited to his taste and habits of mind. Was it that the practice of law seemed to present excursive inquiries, and that the still less scope for speculative and science of law, in which he was so peculiarly fitted to excel, has hitherto been deemed study, rather than a branch of proan elegant fessional accomplishment? Mackintosh pursued the study of medicine, however, so far as to obtain, in 1787, his medical degree; on which occasion, he composed a Latin thesis, "On Muscular Action," afterwards published. On leaving the university, he repaired the purpose of practising as to the metropolis, ostensibly for physician. If he had any serious intention of this nature, the step which he took, in engaging in political controversy, was the most likely to defeat his purpose. The great question of the day was the proposed Regency, in consequence of the first illness of George III. Mackintosh made his début as a political writer, by a pamphlet in support of the views of Fox; and the cause which he espoused. his first essay shared the fate of Foiled and disappointed, the young politician repaired to the continent, apparently with the view of renewing his professional studies. After spending a short time at Leyden, then the most celebrated medical school in Europe, he proeye-witness of the memorable conceeded to Liege, where he was an test between the Prince-Bishop Continent must have been little and his subjects. His visit to the more than a summer tour, since again in London. About the same we find him, in this same year, time, his father died, and bequeathed him a small landed property in From Aberdeen, Mackintosh repaired to Edinburgh, to complete his education, where he spent three years, attending the lectures of Dr. Cullen and Professor Black, preparatory to his taking up the degree of Doctor of Medicine. Scouane his may, perhaps, explain another circumstance; that, while as yet a physician without fees, and a writer without fame or influential friends, he ventured upon matrimony. In 1789, he married Miss Stuart, "a Scottish lady without beauty or fortune, but of great intelligence and most amiable character;"-the sister to Mr. Charles Stuart, the author of several dramatick pieces. In her, he found a partner of his heart, who appreciated his character, and "urged him on to overcome his almost constitutional indolence." In the spring of 1791, Mackintosh started into notoriety, as the Author of "Vindicia Gallicæ, or a Defence of the French Revolution and its English admirers against the accusations of the Right Hon. Edmund Burke." This work, an octavo volume of 379 pages, he is said to have sold, before it was completely written, for a trifling sum; but the publisher liberally presented the Author with triple the original price. At the end of four months, two editions had been sold, and a third appeared at the end of August, 1791. The powerful talent displayed in this performance, procured for its Author the acquaintance of Sheridan, Grey, Whitbread, Fox, and the Duke of Bedford. It afterwards led to his being introduced to Burke himself, who invited him to his seat at Beaconsfield; and the visit is said to have resulted in a very considerable modification of the political opinions avowed in that brilliant but immature performance. Time-the very events of the following year-must, even without any such aid from the corrective wisdom of the venerable political philosopher, have wrought some change upon Mackintosh, in common with every sanguine admirer of the French revolution. Yet those who were the most disappointed by the issue, were not the least sagacious ob servers; and history rejects alike the generous illusions to which Mackintosh surrendered himself, and the more elaborate misrepresentations of his great anti-Gallican antagonist.* Fully determined now to relinquish the medical profession, Mr. Mackintosh, in 1792, entered himself as a student of Lincoln's Inu; and in 1795 he was called to the bar; but he does not appear to have obtained any considerable practice. In the year 1798, he projected, as a means of improving his income, the delivering a course of lectures on the Law of Nature and of Nations; and he applied to the Benchers of Lincoln's Inn, to be allowed the use of their Hall for that purpose. It was not without difficulty that he succeeded in overcoming the objections which were raised on the ground of his supposed Jacobin principles. To disprove the calumny, he published his Introductory Lecture, which met with general admiration; and Mr. Pitt himself, who was a bencher of Lincoln's Inn, spoke of it as the most able and elegant discourse on the subject in any language. It is said to have been at the immediate recommendation of Lord Loughborough, the Chan * "Mackintosh," remarks the American Reviewer, "gives us the frothy effervescence of an immature mind which is still in a state of fermentation, while in Burke we have the pure, ripe, golden, glowing nectar." There is certainly more ripeness and body in Burke's performance, though it is scarcely less heady. We lit unqualified a panegyrick upon that beautle expected, however, to meet with so tiful political romance from a Republican writer. "Even now," adds the Reviewer, "although his (Burke's) practical conclusions have been confirmed by the event, and are generally acquiesced in, the publick mind has no where-no, not even in England-reached the elevation of his theory. If it had, we should not witness the scenes that are now acting on the theatre of Europe." This is strange language to come from a New Englander; and we are really at a loss to know what is meant by Mr. Burke's political theory. cellor, that permission was at length given to use the Hall; and Mackintosh delivered his course to a large and most respectable audience. The Introductory Lecture is generally considered as the most valuable and important of his printed works; and the whole course, if of any corresponding merit, would be a precious acquisition. But we can scarcely entertain the hope that he has left any thing more than imperfect memoranda. In these lectures, it is remarked by Mr. Campbell, "Mackintosh, with the eye of a true philosopher, laid bare the doctrines of Rousseau and Vattel, and of a host of their followers, who borrowed their conceptions of the law of nature from the savages of the forest, or from the abodes of the brute creation." The errors which he combated, have now, however, become so far obsolete, that, eminent as was the service rendered to science at the time, these Lectures would now, perhaps, be deprived of some portion of their in terest. Subsequently to the general election in 1802, Mr. Mackintosh was retained as counsel in several cases of contested elections, and acquitted himself with ability before committees of the House of Commons. The first occasion, however, on which he distinguish ed himself at the bar, was as counsel in defence of Peltier, the Editor of the Ambigu, who was prosecuted in Feb. 1803, for a libel against Bonaparte, then First Consul of France. Mr. Percival, afMr. Percival, afterwards prime minister, as attorney general, conducted the prosecution, and was seconded by Mr. Abbot, afterwards Lord Tenterden. Against this array of talent and power, Mackintosh appeared as the single counsel for the defendant; and he delivered, on this occasion, an oration in defence of the liberty of the press, which has been pronounced one of the most finished specimens of modern eloquence. Lord Ellenborough declared it to be the most eloquent oration he had ever heard in Westminster Hall. A translation of it into French, by Mad. de Stael, was circulated throughout Europe. "We are not sure," remarks the writer in the North American Review, "that there is any single speech in the English language, which can fairly be compared with it." The reputation which Mr. Mackintosh had previously acquired from his Lectures at Lincoln's Inn, had obtained for him the appointment of Professor of the Laws in the East India College at Hertford. His eloquent defence of Peltier procured him the offer of the Recordership of Bombay, which, after some hesitation, he accepted. With a large and increasing family, and a slender and precarious income, he could scarcely decline a high judicial station which promised ample means and literary leisure, although at the cost of expatriation, and, as the event proved, of the loss of health. On this occasion, he received the honour of knighthood. He had previously lost his first wife, and married, in 1798, a daughter of J. B. Állen, Esq., of Cressella, in Pembrokeshire, who, with several children, accompanied him on his voyage to the East. "It is not very honourable to the discernment of the Government," remarks the American writer above referred to, "that they should have permitted the expatriation, for so many of the best years of his life, of one of the master spirits of the country, whose proper sphere of action was the centre of business at home; and it is much to be regretted that private considerations rendered it expedient for Sir James to consent to the proposal." Want of discernment, in this instance, cannot, |