mined in it by critical fancy alone; the technical episode has no place in it. From the first to the last line of the poem the whole is narratio directa, a straight and onward tale; and the speeches of Nestor and Phoenix, and the description of the Shield of Achilles, are not parentheses, as they have been commonly called, but parts and acts of the story itself. They have, it is true, their own beauty or their own usefulness; they charm or they instruct, and either object was sufficient for the desires and manners of the people for whom they were composed.

We think that every one, unbiassed by system, must be surprised at the unity both of action and sentiment in this first example of epic song; and the fact, that this unity is found in the Iliad to such a degree that the exceptions to it are rather blemishes than gross defects, if they are in truth imperfections, and are not perfectly consistent with the true character of the poem, is the main argument in favour of its genuineness. For how is it possible, that the productions of different minds should be collected together, so as to form a whole of, we had almost said, unbroken uniformity in style and sentiment? Where could several minds be elsewhere found, equally successful in portraying character? Look at the characters of the Iliad, the vigour with which they are conceived and drawn, observe how their individuality is preserved throughout, and you see the strokes of one and the same matchless pencil. How could even the separate, disconnected productions of the same mind have been wrought into a vast, magnificent epic, which has become the model of all that have succeeded, and which, considered in itself, after making all the deductions which criticism can reasonably ask, bears abundant marks of an original conception? We are, however, again told, that in maintaining the genuineness of the Iliad, we hold to an opinion which implies something beyond the power of human genius. How is it possible, it is asked, that an individual, at so early a period, and under the circumstances which have been mentioned, should have anticipated by many ages the improvement of future times? Unable to conceive that this should have been done, and that a first attempt at this highest species of composition, in an age of comparative rudeness, should in many respects have succeeded in a degree never surpassed in the subsequent progress of the human mind, will those, who are so incredulous, imagine that they have explained the existence of this poem by either of the two hypotheses which have been stated? Do they rest satisfied with the belief, that, in reality, it is made up of distinct poems, composed in a later age by several bards, and brought together in the form in which we now possess them; or that it consisted of different poems, most of which were from the individual whose name the work now bears? For the former hypothesis, we confess that we have little respect. We cannot conceive of any fancy more extravagant, than that the collected minstrelsy of an age should have been moulded into a single

poem of such uniformity in style and sentiment, and exhibiting an unity of action so well sustained, as to pass the ordeal of criticism and receive the admiration of mankind through the long period of nearly three thousand years, before any suspicion was expressed that is was not an original conception of a single mind. As we have already remarked, we would ask any one to look at a single feature of this poem,-the portraiture of character,-and then to maintain, if he can, that this remote age was so much more fruitful than any other, of minds equally endowed with the lofty genius which reigns throughout the Iliad.

Nor does the second hypothesis, although free from the extravagance of the other, and more worthy of serious consideration, explain satisfactorily the existence of this poem. How does it remove the alleged difficulty? By advancing in its place a theory, which seems to us yet more incredible. The combining of different poems into one of unbroken unity and interests, is an unheard of achievement. Is there anything resembling it in the history of mind? Connecting links must be supplied to fill up the interstices. A series of incidents must be interwoven, which shall form a continuous chain from the beginning to the end. The character of the poem, as a whole, should be equally possessed by all the several parts. To effect all this would require the powers of a second Homer; and who, in the age of the Pisistratidæ, could have accomplished this labour? Upon whom had the mantle of the father-minstrel fallen, and enabled him thus to gather the dispersed, decayed relics of a former age, and to mould them into this living form of fair proportions and matchless beauty? But we would ask, if the ancient bard had the power of composing several rhapsodies, each with its own unity of action, why deny him the power of conceiving and executing a production which should include many such? How much smaller an advance beyond his contemporaries is implied in the father of history, who conceived and executed the design of a work, earlier unquestionably in the history of prose, than the Iliad was in that of poetry? But whatever may be urged respecting the origin of the Iliad, its existence will continue to be one of the mysteries of genius. In the words of Heeren, an author whose opinion is of great weight on any topic of ancient literature, "the creations of genius remain always half miracles. If we were in possession of all the historic testimonies, we never could wholly explain the origin of the Iliad and the Odyssey; for that origin must have remained, in all essential points, the secret of the poet."

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ART. III.

1.-Reports of Lectures delivered at the Chapel in South Place, Finsbury. By W. J. Fox. London: Ch. Fox.

2.-Self-culture. An Address Introductory to the Franklin Lectures. By W. E. CHANNING. London: Ch. Fox.

It is impossible to avoid discovering several points of kindred character subsisting in Mr. Fox's Finsbury Lectures, and the Discourses by the Rev. Orville Dewey, on the Morality of Commerce, Society, and Politics, which we so lately reviewed. Though neither is a copyist of the other, both works are characterized by boldness, strength, and originality of views and manner. Both, besides, have introduced into the pulpit topics which have hitherto been generally, nay, universally on the part of our Church establishment authorities and Christian sects, considered seculaf in nature and tendency. Much, for instance, in the two works will at first appear to a majority of readers purely political; and therefore the attempt to open such a field for pulpit oratory and teaching, will be violently denounced as desecrating in itself and fraught with the greatest dangers which an undefined latitude can admit.

If, however, we distinguish between the politics, falsely so called, which consist merely] in partizanship in regard to power, national government, and the methods which classes, such as Tories and Whigs, have constantly adopted to compass their ends, and the legitimate meaning of the term, viz., that which constitutes and embraces the highest, most enlarged, and most influential department of moral science, we may arrive at a very different conclusion. If political morality (and there can be nothing politic that is not moral) imperatively require from every one, taken individually in the community, such a knowledge of its principles and authority as will ensure practical and heartfelt obedience; and if, besides, the heads of public bodies, representatives of the people, governments, and sovereigns, cannot, dare not, without the most imminent peril to their own present as well as everlasting welfare, and the equally extended interests of the community over which they preside, depart from the strict principles and sanctions of this great code, then, we think, the subject cannot wisely be banished from the pulpit. Why should it be so exiled, unless the morality of individuals and of nations be a thing independent or at variance with religion? or, unless the great purposes of religion be other than to make men morally pure and good, to exalt their capacities and hearts, so as in some measure to imitate and be able to enjoy God? Mr. Fox's views may be partly ascertained on this point, from the very two first paragraphs of these Lectures. He says,—

"If Morality be rightly described as the means, or the art or science of happiness (and that different views of it are accurately defined by these expressions I have repeatedly endeavoured to show, and shall assume on

the present occasion), it follows, as a necessary consequence, that it must be the most comprehensive of all arts and of all sciences-that, in fact, it must include whatever comes under those denominations, and claims the attributes of that highest wisdom which consists in the appropriate application of efficient means to the most important of all ends.

"In this view, Morality may be properly said to include whatever advances us in the knowledge of the laws of material nature, of the mind, or of social man. It includes whatever principles the natural philosopher can arrive at by the classification of his accumulated facts; whatever truths the metaphysician may detect by his more recondite researches ; whatever the statesman can attain of political science, from the teachings of history, or the results of his own experience and observation; the right application of whatever mechanical machinery may be employed by the manufacturer in the production of the necessaries or the conveniences of life; and whatever mental machinery may be employed by the teacher in the fabrication of intelligence and of character. They all come under this one head-Morality; for they are all capable of supplying means that may be employed for the production, the multiplication, the perpetuation of human happiness."

We should wish, however, to guard and narrow the amplitude which such a range of subjects would beget, if made pulpit themes. Nothing is so beautiful, so noble, so sure, and so touchingly instructive as the descriptions, the lessons, and the incentives contained in "The Book." The things as communicated in that record are paramount in every way, and can never safely make large way, even for the soundest disquisitions in political economy, on metaphysics, on mechanics, &c., or anything not clearly declared. For though these hitherto excluded subjects may be wisely made the vehicles as well as effectively become elucidatory in teaching morality from the pulpit, they must be kept not only subordinate to the mighty and direct doctrines and rules contained in the Holy Scriptures, but in no case should the pulpit he allowed to become an arena for the broaching of fanciful theories, much less for the inculcation of views that in any degree run counter to the sacred code. Having thus explained ourselves, we proceed to consider a little more closely, the subjects and the manner of their handling, now before us.

And here we must remark, that though Mr. Dewey and Mr. Fox may be almost solitary examples of preachers, whether in America or England, adventuring to introduce into pulpit teaching the range of subjects already indicated, yet there cannot be a doubt of the public mind in both countries being prepared to admit of innovations that recommend themselves to reason, though these innovations may run counter to old established modes; and also of being inclined to investigate the merits of opinions and things, to the pretensions of which it would have been formerly deemed perilous and wicked to lend the most transient notice. The simple fact that a series of lectures extending over several years, as those of Mr. Fox do, having commanded the attention of a respectable

congregation, and that in a published form they have obtained a wide circulation, are significant circumstances of the times. That things are taking an onward course, that far more knowledge is afloat and far more widely spread, however deficient it may be as yet in regard to general depth, are facts which it is an every-day occurrence to hear mentioned. To enlarge the scope of real knowledge, to purify its channels, to sound its profundities, are objects which our author labours to accomplish.

But we have not yet afforded any distinct idea of the points upon which he principally dilates, nor of the method of his procedure. We have therefore now to state that the first seven lectures are devoted to what the author calls Class Morality, as exemplified in this country; that is to say, morality as modified by the various classes into which society is divided.

That there is such a distinction accepted and acted upon as that which our author charges against classes, has often, though perhaps never so fully and clearly, been animadverted upon. Every class has its peculiar temptations as well as advantages to enumerate; and if each would deliberately set about the business of calculation, with the practical intent of resisting the former and cultivating the latter, wonderful would be the change over the whole face of society. But instead of entering on this manly and rational course, each class rails against the vices to which it is itself not particularly exposed, and passes over those to which it is prone; the powerful and the privileged often exemplifying their want of charity, not merely by disparaging opinions, but by oppressive acts.

Now although Mr. Fox should teach the public nothing new in the science of morals by these lectures, he has assuredly enlarged the sphere of doctrine, as usually inculcated, with respect to popular morals; and done so too in such a popular and impressive manner, as must tend to sweep away much of that virulence that exists between the several distinct classes of society, and thus effectuate a positive moral good. One of his main purposes, indeed, has been to furnish to all a lesson of charity. "And, he truly asserts, "there is no charity like an enlightened beneficence, which analyzes the causes that act upon men, and traces the different ways in which influences, from within and without, fashion our thoughts and pursuits. Thus to arrive at a knowledge of the various operations that build man into what he is, must dispose us, far more than any other species of training that can possibly be imagined, to regard all with kindness; to extend sympathy to the utmost bounds to which sympathy can possibly be felt; and to look onward with hope and trust to the future evolutions of that nature, which is already so beautiful and so worthy an object of complacency, even in the midst of its darkest aberrations."

The field is so wide, even should we alone regard the space which Mr. Fox has allotted to his seven classes of society,-each occupy