and operate unkindly upon the attested by the eagerness with affections.eul mondgebars 941 which novels, and romances of all In all these cases, the mind be- kinds are read, even by many who >comes › more or less jaded and join in condemning themato barassed, and loses that elasticity. This power of transporting us which is necessary to fit it for ordi-out of the sensible world; and enanary enjoyments. But, in the last bling us to leave all its uneasinesses ease, it is in danger of being still and necessities behind us, constifurther perplexed, unhinged, and tutes the peculiar charm of works of fretted, so as to be even deprived faney; for, as they bu alboid of all that relish and satisfactional di Body forth və di which seems essential to a cheerful performance of duty.

It is surprising, under any, of these circumstances, what relief is instantly found in the most trifling play of the imagination, The countenance, which may be regarded as the mind's index, brightens in a moment; the burden that op I pressed it becomes light, and is forgotten; and the spirits recover that spring and tone, which impart to the several faculties of the mind their proper vigour and action.

The form of things unknown,-111 we seem to be carried, as it were, into another creation Things, that have long ceased to be, renew their existence; and things, that can never be, become both probable and real, while they ares just so far removed from us as to be softened by distance, but not obscured by it, and while, though the pleasure that they awaken is not imaginary, the very pains which they occasion please. gand

Advantages like these, so well suited to a checkered, scene of existence, are not to be lightly thrown away, especially since that which relieves fatigue in health, often makes us insensible to suffering in sickness, and disarms unavailing sorrow of its stinge

Hence it is, that conversation with an old acquaintance, or upon old times, or any thing, in short, which draws off the mind from present objects, and carries it abroad, is felt to be strangely efficacious in promoting vivacity, and that too, ..perhaps, in some proportion to the previous depression; it being found, that persons enter into these recrea tions with more zest when they escape to them from severe employ ment than when they meet with them, as matters of course. It is, in short, with the amusements of the mind, as with those of the body; we must be fitted for them by exertion. 3 e The imagination, however, requires to be stimulated to such reasonable activity. The sight of old friends, or benefit of pleasing conversation, is not to be had at the exact times or in the exact measure that may be needful. But an amus ing book is always at hand, and may be taken up or put down at pleasure, while its power over theducing us to purer scenes and nomind, and the sweet oblivion which it induces, of the cares and troubles and vexations of life, is sufficiently

But in direct proportion to the power of any engine is the nedessity to guard it from perversion: and if works of imagination enable us to "pass the flaming bounds of space and time," it is a matter of immeasurable importance to determine into what world they carry us. I know of no class of books which ought to be selected with more care, in forming a library for the nursery, or for young persons who have left it, than those which exercise the imagination. If they carry us into a world of increased sensuality, like the paradise of Mahomet, their effect must resem‐ ble that of stimulants in a fever; while, on the other hand, by intro

bler enjoyments, they may add to their other recommendations the more powerful one of becoming

subsidiary to the influence of prin- It should be observed too, that the imagination may be exercised by other works besides works of fiction. Some portions of history,. voyages, travels, and even some didactic works, afford sufficient play to that lively faculty, if it has been properly regulated, to produce all the relief that is wanted; and they produce it better for not supplying any excessive stimulus; for the problem to be solved, as it strikes me, is, not what may most powerfully affect or stimulate the imagination, but what may most easily rouse it to moderate action, at the least expense of artificial excitement, C. C.

eiple. There are many generous and noble feelings, far removed from the selfish motives by which -the world at large is actuated, and for which common life does not pro: vide sufficient excitement to keep them from languishing through inaction; and whatever tends to kindle and awaken these, and thus to create some taste for the loveliness of virtue, may have a more friendly influence, where the holier sanctions of religion are either wanting or feebly felt, than many a grave lesson, for which the heart has not been duly prepared. To keep all parts of the mind in successive action is essential, or at least eminently conducive, to its healthy condition; because our feelings, like spirited horses, are kept better under command, for. being accustomed to gentle and regular exercise. It is thus fa miliarized with scenes of difficulty and with the conduct of the good and great, when exposed to them, before it is called to act under them. It contemplates perplexity at leisure, and danger without dismay; and, being filled with exalted and generous sentiment, is better disposed both to applaud generosity in others, and to practise it when occasion requires.

I purposely avoid applying these remarks to any particular works of poetry or romance; nor would I be understood to recommend an indiscriminate or incautious indulgence, even in the best entertainments of this description. Still

less can I approve of the love
scenes and sentimental anguish of
many of our modern novels. In
days of old, poets sang of different
themes; and we might do well in
this instance to recur to an obsolete
model,

Cithara crinitus Jopas
Personat aurata, docuit quæ maximus
Atlas

Unde hominum genus, et pecudes, unde
imber et igues,
Arcturum, pluviasque Hyadas, gemi-
nosque Triones.

CHRIST. OBSERV. No. 184.

To the Editor of the Christian Observer. THE following passage, which I have lately met with in "Sewel's History of Friends," appears so' contradictory to the statements" inserted in your Number for April, 1816, that I am induced to offer it' for your consideration, viz. :

"George Keith, who now preached up and down where the bishops' thought fit, went, by their order, to New England, New York, Peunsylvania, &c.; for it seems he imagined that in those parts he should get many adherents among the QUAKERS, but he came much short of his aim: for even in Pennsylvania, where many of the BAP. TISTS formerly sided with him, he was by them looked upon with disdain, and rejected for wearing a clergyman's gown; and now appearing to be a great apostate, there was no likelihood for him to get an entrance, or to be esteemed there," &c. &c.

Not only Sewel, but Clarkson, in his Life of Penn, &c. represent the character of Mr. Keith in a very unfavourable light. Sewel particularly, in his second volume, relates his holding the sentiments of Francis Mercurius, Baron of Helmon, respecting the transmigration of souls.

I trust it will be in the power of some of your readers to elucidate 2 H

this subject, and to explain the ground of these varying statements respecting one who appears to have acted a conspicuous part as a missionary under the patronage of the Society for propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts about the commencement of the last century.

I am, &c.

A. C.

To the Editor of the Christian Observer. On a subject in which so many are implicated as novel reading, I am surprised that only one champion on each side has as yet entered the lists. A. A. attacks all novels indiscriminately as causing a criminal waste of time, enervating the mind, and injuring the morals. Candidus generously surrenders to him the common farrago of circulating libraries; that is to say, all those tedious and insipid productions which are destitute of interest, pathos, or wit ---all from which he could derive no gratification. He even condemus them to the flames with the zeal of an inquisitor, little thinking that his own productions were destined to experience a similar fate. But by this concession Candidus onlyproves his literary taste. For every work of genius, however faulty in other respects, he seems determined to shed the last drop of his ink. I was particularly disgusted at the tenderness with which he treats the works of Fielding and Smollett, works whose licentiousness seems to demand an universal proscription. It is not possible to wade through the filth of such a slough, without contracting some pollution. I think indeed that Caudidus has fully. established against A. A. the possibility of the subservience of fiction to morality and religion. But as I differ both from Candidus and A. A., I think it right to state the grounds on which my own sen-timents are founded.

The Almighty has gifted us with various powers physical and intellectual, and, amongst them, with imagination. All the rest have their

s beinways except

various uses and gratifications allowed by Divine Goodness; and T find no especial curse denounced upon this single faculty, except by A. A. In my opinion, to read a work of fiction (I the case of its made a velicle of immorality) is as innocent a gratification as to drink a glass of wine. It is very true, that an excessive love of works of fiction, causes a criminal waste of time, enervates the mind, and therefore injures the morals. But the same may be said of an excessive love of a bottle of wine; yet it by no means follows, that Mahomet's entire prohibition was required by religion. I think imagination and taste faculties as innocent as reason; an exercise of the one as allowable as an exercise of the other. Our spiritual interests may be at least as much benefited by a beautiful work of fiction as by that much extolled science Mathematics; and I really do not perceive, how a person who has been receiving gratification from the splendid poetry of Southey is more criminal than he who, after spending many a thoughtful hour on Euclid's Elements and Peacock's Conic Sections, rises at length thoroughly convinced, that the square of an ordinate on the axis major of a hyperbola varies as the rectangle under its abscissæ; and that the equation of the hyperbola, when referred to its diameter, is of the form be y= 2 ax+x3×71. I may be in an error; if so, I only ask A. A.. to point out my error perspicuously: I ask but for simple proof.

I should suppose that A, A. would not recoil with horror from Plu tarch's Lives (though some good judges have pronounced these little better than novels; I mean, in respect to their truth): I would ask him, in what respects Miss Edgeworth's "Ennui" is more objectionable. Would it tend more to enervate his mind, and to injure his morais He may say, it is less instructive. I would ask him, whether it be more