interwoven by corrupt artisans, that it is difficult to distinguish the one from the other. From this description, it must be evident, that the Eclectic Review may be read with profit and pleasure, by persons of taste, whose delicacy will be protected from the rude shock of impiety, ribaldry, and folly, which annoy the general reader. 1 Indeed, the principal prose writers of the present day are mere compilers, among whom the reviewers are most conspicuous, and remarkable, for the ingenious facility with which they fill the pages of monthly and quarterly books of scraps. Dr. Ajkin, who is perhaps the most entertaining compiler in existence; has rather ludicrously described the productions of modern prose writers, as a species of cabinet-work; but although he is himself a nice operator, some of his contemporaries are clumsy workmen. This is particularly the case with Quarterly Reviewers, who cannot plead haste as an extenuation of their errors: three months are certainly sufficient for the manufacture of one hundred and fifty pages of indifferent prose, in an age when an industrious bard, can work up scraps of antiquity into a legendary ballad, of double the size, in the same time. One quarterly censor, however, the Edinburgh Review, is ably conducted; the critics, like their countryman Scott, dexterously extract the essence of a volume, and after mingling it with their own strong and significant comments, they send it from their manufactory into the commercial world, an elegant and attractive article, like a Birmingham button trebly gilt. Indeed, the whole secret of the art by which the Edinburgh Reviewers have obtained popularity, is their skilful gratification of the worst passions of the human mind. In religion, their philosophisme has cherished the pride of infidels; in politics, their bold censure of men in power, whether just or unjust, gratified the predisposition of mankind to depreciate their rulers; and in literature, by a retrogradation of a century or two, and talking most learnedly about Chaucer, Spenser, Shakspeare, Ford, Marlow, Cowley, Dryden, and Milton, and illustrating their comments by very beautiful figures and passages; some stolen, some borrowed, and some original, they spared their readers a world of application, and saved them the trouble of rising from their seats, to consult authors by way of reference, though they were ranged around the shelves of their libraries. Thus by complimenting the taste, ministering to the indolence, and cherishing the ignorance of mankind, whom they professed to inform; the Edinburgh Reviewers have established their periodical quantum of criticism, which will doubtless be purchased, read, and prized, while vanity assumes the garb of intelligence, malignity of satire, and amusing extracts of criticism. Out of the threescore and ten periodical publications which illumine the literary hemisphere of Britain, were it practicable, valuable materials for a single miscellany might from time to time be selected; but what human being could have the patience, even to glance at the thousands of pages of insignificant and halfhatched ideas, which constitute the principal part of these new and interesting publications? The art of printing, which has so long promoted the interests by facilitating the deceptions of empiricism in all its varieties, has also received a new impulse from quack news-writers, and quack mechanicians. A German projector, eager like the rest of his countrymen, to catch part of the golden shower of English munificence, has substantiated his claims to patronage by inventing a rotatory printing-machine, for working off newspapers with a celerity hitherto unknown. One or two of the diurnal prints are, it seems, produced by this expeditious medium, and thus political falsehoods can be multiplied and circulated with a velocity, which reminds us of the famous structure dedicated to the Goddess of Lies: "With rapid motion turn'd the mansion round; From these cursory observations on the use of the pen and the press, a youthful student in the art of satire, may be taught caution in the employment of such powerful auxiliaries; let me now request his attention to a subject which has for ages been the theme of censure with all patriotic individuals, who thought they evinced their public spirit by abusing the Government of the country. That subject is a GENERAL ELECTION, which though periodical, affords striking illustrations of manners among the different classes of this great community, when an opportunity is presented for the undisguised profession of popular opinion. Of the moderation, decency, and manliness of the populace of Westminster, unequivocal proofs were evinced during the last struggle of parties, when a ferocious mob actually pelted Sir Murray Maxwell, while that gentleman addressed them from the hustings in Covent Garden. Yes, the boasted magnanimity of Britons was nobly shewn indeed, by driving a gentleman from his place, wounded, and disfigured with mire, to make way for a demagogue! The modest and disinterested Henry Hunt, Esq. also offered himself as the representative of Westminster in Parliament, and obtained the votes of two or three hundred freemen! I shall now describe the grand exhibition of electors in a certain county. A GENERAL ELECTION; OR, JOHN BULL IN That periodical jubilee of freemen, a General Election in this happy isle, may justly be considered a temporary revival of the golden age. During sixteen days allowed by the act for polling, the most uncontrolled liberty which a romantic advocate for freewill could desire, universally prevails. Human nature now appears in all its pristine dignity, proclaiming with sound of trumpet, and beat of drum, its disposition to make a noise in the world. No mercenary soldier is permitted to appear in the consecrated district appropriated to the worship of national Liberty, where her votaries riot at will in the sunshine of her cheering influence. There N |