LITERARY NOTICES.

The Sentiment of Flowers, or Language of Flora. By Robert Tyas. Tyas. A VERY beautiful book, on a subject that is, of all others, most to be recommended to a lady's study. It does not seem to be a literary prodigy, but rejoices in being excellently printed; the significations of each flower, and the reasons for which such meanings have been assigned, are attached to a number of very beautiful coloured plates, and the gilding of the edges is superlatively thick and beautiful. We would dwell in raptures on the green morocco cover, and the golden vase of golden flowers embellishing its centre, floral embellishments round the margins, and-we heartily wish we were in love, that the lady of our choice might study conversation out of so very elegant a volume.

Ceylon Moss, for the Cure of, &c. &c. &c. Communications read to the Royal Medico-Botanical Society. By George G. Sigmond, M. D. Second Edition. Renshaw.

Our readers, who have so long observed upon our Advertising Sheet the history of Ceylon Moss, will, we doubt not, be eager to buy this book with the view of discovering what it is all about. They will not be unwise to do so; for the outlay of capital required is something under ruin, and the essay really is a very amusing one, embodying a good deal of general information. We rise from the perusal, too, with a very high respect for the virtues of the Ceylon Moss,-virtues which, it seems, unlike those of humanity, can well endure a trial.

Electrotint; or, the Art of making Paintings in such a manner that Copper Plates and "Blocks" can be taken from them by means of Voltaic Electricity. By Thomas Sampson. Palmer. 103, Newgate-street.

This is a short pamphlet published by Mr. Palmer, in explanation of his process of Electrotint painting. The discovery is a valuable one, since it enables the artist to infuse into the copper plate his own touch and feeling without the mediate assistance of a copier; and we cannot doubt, that an art presenting so great advantages as that of Electrotint will speedily arrive at an increased state of perfection. The printing surfaces it produces are either raised or sunken : each is explained; and the pamphlet contains technical directions concerning brushes, tools, plates, handling, &c. for the use of artists in Electrotint, or of such chemists as may desire to amuse themselves by practising, as a matter of curiosity, this new application of the powers of voltaic electricity. To these we recommend it as an indispensable assistant. The specification of the patent is appended, containing a concise description of the invention, and the mode in which it is applied.

Village Pencillings, in Prose and Verse. By Elizabeth Pierce. Pickering. We feel, of course, a natural diffidence in enlarging, to any great extent, upon the merits of our own correspondents; consistently, therefore, with the modest vein in which this month finds us, we shall only refer to "The Primrose," a poetical trifle, in a late Number of our Magazine. To those who admired that little piece, we have no hesitation in strenuously recommending the purchase of the book. The Pencillings are made in a sound, religious, spirit, and with an earnestness of feeling that atones for many of the defects attendant upon the first effort of a lady in the world of Literature.

The work is dedicated to her Majesty, the Queen Dowager; and is got up in superior style.

The School Room at Home. Houlston and Hughes.

Contains introductory chapters on History, Geography, Grammar, and Botany, for children. Don't, reader, be startled by the grandeur of the contents; it is really a very excellent book, simply written, and admirably suited for the purpose that it has in view.

We have been requested to take notice of the "Kentish Standard," a monthly literary newspaper. The idea of monthly news is odd enough, but fortunately there is but a little summary, and monthly literature of course is (ahem!) the most exalted, delightful, and proper thing that could have been invented. The conductors don't mean to belong to any party, but pledge themselves to be true and sturdy politicians, with a leading article that shall make Sir Robert reflect, and aid Lord John with ideas in opposition. For literature, the Editor discourseth on society with editorial correctness. Our friend, H. G. Adams, asks if we are fond of poetry, and presuming that we are, entertains us with the history of "Edmund Bolton," the first of his "Hours with the Old Poets;" Richard John discourseth verses upon "Cromwell's Grave;" and a page on Woolwich dock-yard matters feeds the vanity of the brave men of Kent. There are extracts illustrative of public opinion, and reviews expressive of the state of literature; with the genus of " It is rumoured," " Gigantic turnip," &c. &c., to fill up the ends of columns. We have no fault whatever to find with the "Kentish Standard."

A firm of witty publishers, residing in Crane-court, has transmitted to our review department a "Report of the Proceedings at the Conference of Delegates of the Middle and Working Classes, held at Birmingham, April 5, 1842." So much do we detest and abhor all politics, Radical, Whig, or Tory, that we have not yet recovered the shock to our feelings, caused by the sight of the "Report," while it was in daily use as waste paper.

THE

KING'S COLLEGE MAGAZINE.

JULY, 1842.

HISTORY AND HISTORIANS.

No. IV.

In the first paper of this Series we spoke briefly of that method of study by which history is broken up into a collection of individual men and distinct actions; and from each the lesson was drawn which it seems intended to teach us. We subsequently considered another system, by which we look on history as one connected whole, and pointed out some advantages arising from this view of the past. We found this connexion to exist partly in an unbroken chain of causation, tending throughout the whole world to some ultimate object; partly in the operation of general moral laws, founded on universal principles of our nature; and we briefly mentioned a few leading points to be noticed in the investigation of these laws. That this second method of historical study is most valuable, nay, is absolutely necessary, in order to the practical use, on a great scale, of the experience of the past, it is impossible to doubt; yet it is not without its attendant danger, which, if we be not on our guard, will greatly detract from the advantages it offers us. The moral laws which are acting on human transactions, inasmuch as they are founded on general principles, and will apply under similar circumstances, are strictly analogous to the laws of physical nature; they have the same constancy, and may be equally, though by a different process, made subjects of calculation. Now it is in this very fact that the danger lies; we may be insensibly led to forget that we are dealing with men, thinking, living, moving, like ourselves, influenced by the same passions, imbued with the same emotions, destined for the same high purposes, as we feel, or ought to feel, that we ourselves are. We may accustom ourselves to think of the great events of the world-of all the revolutions and changes which we see clearly marked in the past, or dimly shadowed in the horizon of the future-as a mere working of

an inanimate machinery; beautiful, indeed, in its mechanism, most worthy of our admiration, yet never calling forth the inmost sympathies of our human nature. So surely as we glide into this error, be our investigations of history and the laws which it develops ever so close and accurate, the benefits on which we reckoned will be sapped away from beneath our feet; we shall cease really to understand the principles we discover, because we shall no longer sympathize in the feelings which are moving the men who act under them. "But is this so?" some one may ask. "Is it true, that, by losing this vividness of sympathy with those whose lives and actions are placed before us, we miss the advantage to be drawn from the knowledge of the laws, which reason deduces from the data supplied by history? May we not have a clear conception of probabilities founded on such known laws, sufficient to guide our actions?" It may, indeed, appear so at first; but longer reflection shows the fallacy of the supposition. It is manifest that before we can deduce a principle we must have sufficient data, and must understand those that we have. Now, in the investigation of a moral law, we find that the motives and feelings of men constitute the data from which, in great measure, our conclusion is to be drawn ; and before we can come to a right conclusion, we must comprehend these feelings, both as distinct and relative inducements to action. But how is this to be attained?-by the exertion of reason, and the usual process of induction. But we cannot see how reason, which, when analyzed, resolves itself into the perception of relation between known data, can become aware of the existence of such feelings. The mere observation of effects will not lead us to see the hidden human cause in such sentiments, unless we have in our own mind something answering to these motives of others. In fact, each sentiment dwelling in us takes cognizance of the existence of a similar sentiment planted in other minds; reason aids us in tracing its operations, whether in ourselves or others. For example, the man who should be totally destitute of the love of praise could never understand it as a motive influencing others. You might tell him of the desire of fame; you might draw his attention to persons and actions, wherein it is most conspicuous; but the strongest efforts of intellect could never enable him to appreciate it as a motive: there would be nothing in his mind able to form a conception of it; he never could allow in his calculations for its power. If a man has no feeling of benevolence, or veneration, or pride, he can never understand or allow for them in others. Now it is wisely appointed that every man should, in some

degree, at some time, experience every human emotion; he cannot be quite incapable of comprehending them in the minds of others, yet it is possible for any one to be influenced himself much less by one than by another feeling; nay, he may be less altogether under the power of feelings at all; intellectual calculation may be predominant in his mental constitution, and on this account he may not sufficiently appreciate this one feeling or feelings in general as moving men and directing their conduct. By sympathy, we understand, then, this infusion of ourselves into the minds of others, -this sense and perception of the motives and feelings which are lying at the bottom of all they say or do, whether generally or under particular circumstances. Hence we easily see how such sympathy, strongly and vividly entertained, is indispensable to the understanding the moral data from which our conclusions are to be deduced; and perceive the hopelessness of resting merely on reason, with a view to the real comprehension of history and the laws which are moving the masses of mankind. An illustration will best explain my meaning, and the nature of the spirit of which I am speaking. Suppose, then, that we are engaged in the study of any portion of history in which we see the passions of men strongly and deeply moved; in reading, for example, the records of the Crusades, or the more recent convulsions of the revolution in France. In both these events we shall find the laws of moral action strikingly developed; from both, and especially from the latter, the historian may deduce great principles, and gather stores of political wisdom and experience. He may point out to us the causes of the rapid fall of the French empire in the reaction produced by the galling weight of the military despotism of Napoleon; he may tell us of the effects of revolution and anarchy on national character, and the external and internal relations of a state; he may trace out the combinations of circumstances which contributed to every great event. All this he may do in a great degree by the simple force of reason. But will he succeed in interesting us-will he have power to enchain our attention, and carry us along with him in his train of thought? Certainly not, be his intellect ever so subtle, unless he feels that of which he is writing. He may tell us that the overthrow of France was caused by the patriotism of Germany, or the noble devotion of the nobles and peasants of Russia; or, on the other hand, he may show how the strong sense of military glory in the mind of France tended to support the power of the emperor; but unless he can enter deeply into the glow of patriotic feeling, chastened and purified in