readers the incident, on which Mr. Cooper grounds his charge.

Soon after his arrival in France, he received a visit from a person whom he had never seen before, but who called himself a littérateur. In conversation, this individual very freely abused the Bourbons, and the state of things then existent in France, and at last took occasion to speak of the novel of Ivanhoe. He charged Scott with injustice towards the Templars, and went into a long vindication of that order. At several other interviews, the topic was renewed, and at last the visiter asserted, that the Templars still existed in Paris, and gave Mr. Cooper an invitation from the Grand Master, to be present at a secret meeting, which was to be held that week. We give the conclusion of the story in our author's own words, without further comment.

"Of course, I immediately conjectured that some of the political agitators of the day had assumed this taking guise, in order to combine their means and carry out their plans. The proposition was gotten rid of, by my stating, in terms that could not be misunderstood, that I was a traveller, and did not wish to meddle with any thing that required secrecy, in a foreign government; that I certainly had my own political notions, and, if pushed, should not hesitate to avow them anywhere; that the proper place for a writer to declare his sentiments, was in his books, unless under circumstances which authorized him to act; that I did not conceive foreigners were justifiable in going beyond this; that I never had meddled with the affairs of foreign countries, and that I never would; and that the fact of this society's being secret, was sufficient to deter me from visiting it. With this answer, my guest departed, and he never came again.

"Now, the first impression was as I have told you, and I supposed my visiter, although a man of fifty, was one of those who innocently lent himself to these silly exaggerations; either as a dupe, or to dupe others. I saw reason, however, to change this opinion.

"At the time these visits occurred, I scarcely knew any one in Paris, and was living in absolute retirement,-being, as you know already, quite without letters. About ten days after I saw the last of my littérateur, I got a letter from a high functionary of the government, sending me a set of valuable medals. The following day, these were succeeded by his card, and an invitation to dinner. Soon after, another person, notoriously connected with court intrigues, sought me out, and overwhelmed me

with civilities. In a conversation that shortly after occurred between us, this person gave a pretty direct intimation, that by pushing a little, a certain decoration that is usually conferred on literary men, was to be had, if it were desired. I got rid of all these things, in the straight-forward manner, that is the best for upsetting intrigues; and having really nothing to conceal, I was shortly permitted to take my own course.

"I have now little doubt that the littérateur was a spy, sent, either to sound me on some point connected with Lafayette and the republicans, or possibly to lead me into some difficulty, though I admit that this is no more than conjecture. I give you the facts, which, at the time, struck me as, at least, odd; and you may draw your own conclusions. This, however, is but one of a dozen adventures, more or less similar, that have occurred, and I think it well to mention it, by way of giving you an insight into what sometimes happens here." Vol. 11. pp.

192-194.

We have spoken freely, though with no captious spirit, of the defects of Mr. Cooper's writings, for the beauties are so evident, and have been so well attested by the wide-spread popularity of the works, that they needed no particular notice. Now that he has again set up his household gods in his native land, we trust soon to hear from him in that department of authorship, in which he met with such early and brilliant success. There are copious materials for fiction in the adventurous history of the pilgrim settlers, and their immediate descendants, by using which, he will do better service to his countrymen and more honor to himself, than by retracing the worn tracks of European novelists, or speculating upon political topics of ephemeral interest. What he has already accomplished is not more a proof of genius and merit, than a warrant for the public to make large demands for future effort.

H.R. Cleveland,

ART. II.1. M. T. Cicero de Senectute et de Amicitiâ, ex Editionibus Oliveti et Ernesti. Accedunt Note Anglica Juventuti accommodatæ. Curâ C. K. DILLAWAY, A. M. Bostoniæ; Perkins et Marvin. Philadelphiæ; H. Perkins. 1837.

2. M. T. Ciceronis de Officiis Libri Tres. Ex Editionibus Oliveti et Ernesti. Accedunt Notæ Anglica. Curâ C. K. DILLAWAY, A. M. Bostoniæ; Perkins et Marvin. Philadelphia; H. Perkins. 1837.

3. La République de Cicéron, d'après le Texte inédit, récemment découvert et commenté par M. Mai, Bibliothecaire du Vatican. Avec une Traduction Française, un Discours Préliminaire, et des Dissertations Historiques, par M. VILLEMAIN, de l'Académie Française. Paris.

1823.

THE lovers of Latin are under obligations to Mr. Dillaway for his very neat and commodious editions of Cicero. Many will be tempted to read these pretty volumes, who might not feel courage enough to undertake the task of perusing a less convenient edition; and many will purchase these interesting treatises, as they appear separately and at a moderate price, who would have been repelled by the labor and expense of going through the "Opera Omnia." The form much resembles that of the Regent's edition, being very neat, and printed with remarkable correctness. The notes purport to be prepared for the use of youth, and are well suited to this purpose, though we are much mistaken if they be not found of benefit to many who can scarcely be included in this category. They are entirely unencumbered with philological learning, and probably add nothing to the knowledge actually possessed by learned scholars; but they accomplish very satisfactorily the object for which they were written, namely, to aid the uninitiated, and to lead the young scholar, with helping hand, through the first obstacles which beset him, or to save the reader, be he who he may, the trouble of searching, in the midst of a mass of ostentatious learning, for the simple explanation with which he would be satisfied. We trust that Mr. Dillaway will continue his labors in this branch, feeling sure, that if he goes on as he has begun, he will render good service to the cause of the classics in our country.

But it is our intention at this time to do more than merely speak of an edition of these works; we wish to take the opportunity to treat at large of the life and writings of that great man, whose name graces the beginning of our essay. The poor fisherman, in the Arabian tale, did but raise the lid of the casket he had drawn up from the sea, when the tall form of the Genie rose up majestically to his view, the dim and misty outline assuming every moment a more distinct and visible form, till the whole colossal figure, with its stern reality of muscle and sinew, stood towering before him. So it is with us when we think of Cicero. At the sound of his name, and the mention of his works, the gigantic character of the man appears before us, the magnificent traits becoming one by one apparent, till the whole vast intellect seems to be present to our sight; and the memory of his good deeds, of his life, devoted to the service of his country, of his sufferings in the cause of liberty, and his tragical death, comes over us with an interest and power from which we cannot escape.

The memory of their virtues is the noblest legacy which the great and good of any age can bequeath to posterity; it is a never-dying principle which is destined to act throughout all time. Its power is not entirely comprehended at first; it is more deeply felt, and better understood, and is more efficient for good, in proportion as men advance in knowledge and virtue. As it may be that there are stars which have been glittering since the dawn of creation, yet have never been seen or distinguished in the firmament, so it is probable that virtues have been displayed by the good of past ages, that have never yet been appreciated or perceived. Such a character as Socrates could not be comprehended or valued in any degree by a barbarous nation. Achilles was undoubtedly the hero, par excellence, of the Iliad, for those rude nations to whom the blind bard recited his immortal cantos, and who looked upon courage and strength as the only attributes worthy a man. A more polished age would be awake to the lovelier character of Hector, whose beautiful traits were probably little noticed in the days of Homer. And thus it must ever be while civilization is on the advance. The historian describes faithfully actions and characters, but successive generations speculate upon them with very different feelings; and, as time rolls on, new virtues and new powers become apparent, and set their watch over man in the bright firmament, where

the good deeds of those who have gone before us are shining in immortal glory.

It is a becoming task then, for every changing state of society to review the past; and to discover as far as possible those treasures of character, which have before been unnoticed. And in looking back to the great men of antiquity, we know of no one to whom we feel more strongly attracted, or who seems to be more closely connected with the present, than Cicero. His works are more various, as well as extensive, than those of any other ancient writer, and we feel that we know him through these. We are brought nearer to him than to any one of the ancients. It seems, as if we had actually listened to his voice in the Senate-house or the Forum, or conversed with him and his friends in his beautiful Tusculan gardens, and gathered from his own lips his deep and philosophy. And more than this; we are sensible of the power of his mind, of its vast range through the past, present, and future; we perceive his capacity for comprehending all the improvements of society, and we feel that if he were brought to life at present, he would be as one of us. We figure to ourselves the delight with which he would view and understand the advances made since his time; the intuitive readiness with which he would accommodate himself to the laws of society; the perfect gentleman he would appear, though suddenly placed in a scene so new, so trying, so full of wonders.

pure

We shall first speak of Cicero as an Orator. His name is identified with eloquence. His great pursuit; the object to which his life was devoted; the passion of his youth; the last and mightiest effort of his old age, was eloquence. And in speaking of his intellectual qualities, we can have no hesitation in placing this art foremost among the objects to which they were devoted. The idea of a perfect Orator existed in his mind almost from childhood, and was never lost from his view. He looked to it as to a bright beacon advancing constantly before him; never perhaps fully reached, but attracting him by its brightness, and alluring him ever onward.

The early selection of this leading object to which his best faculties were to be devoted, and his steady pursuit of it through life, may seem rather remarkable in a state where military eminence so far eclipsed all other distinctions, and was the surest, if not the only step, to office and dignity.