plied, Sic vos non vobis, &c. The great Henry Stephens expended vast sums in promoting Greek literature,-and every scholar, to this day, enjoys the fruits of his labours; but died in a hospital, worn with vexations, and sunk in deep poverty. Mr. Boothroyd, we hope, will reap a happier harvest from the hard soil of biblical learning. The commencement of his work does him honour; and, if he can thus carry it a capite ad calcem, and especially if he make a few improvements, he will erect a lasting monument of his learning and public spirit.

The Hebrew Text is printed in a fair and handsome manner; and, as we judge from a partial reading and from the information of others, with an accuracy which is truly exemplary. Many readers, undoubtedly, would give the preference to a pointed text; but the space between the lines is sufficient to admit of the punctuation being inserted with a pen; and this, perhaps, would be an useful exercise. The received text is printed; but the editor conveys the means of judging on disputed readings, and frequently expresses his own opinion, by chasms, brackets, and a simple notation; by an inner margin for the different readings; and 'by his notes.

The Inner Margin, after the manner of J. J. Westein's Greek Testament, contains the editor's selection of various readings. In making this selection he informs us, in his advertisement, that he has proceeded on the principle of inserting (1.) all the various readings which are found in any of the ancient versions, whether supported by the authority of MSS. or not, and (2.) those readings from MSS. or editions which supply an acknowledged deficiency in the text:' but when a various reading has no connection with the context, and is not supported by the authority of any of the versions,' he deems it wholly inadmissible."

To make a selection of VV. RR. is, in any case, a difficult and extremely delicate task: but it becomes, still more so in regard to a language whose idioms are so concise, abrupt, and imperfectly understood by modern Europeans, as the Hebrew. A critic should be exquisitely skilled in all the cognate Asiatic dialects (viz. Hebrew, Samaritan, Chaldee, Syriac, Arabic, and Ethiopic,) and particularly accustomed to employ his attainments in elucidating the Hebrew Scriptures, before he is competent to pronounce

演

that

an assigned variation is absolutely of no importance. We concur with Mr. Boothroyd in the high value which he sets on the ancient versions; but we cannot so under-rate the manuscripts as to approve the omission of any mention of such readings as are derived only from this source. Some

of those from which M. de Rossi made his collections, are said to be of the seventh or eighth century, and which, therefore, may be transcripts of MSS, of the third or fourth. Possibly peculiar readings may exist in some of them, and which agree with none of the versions. A reading of this description might be thought, perhaps, to have no connection with the context, but yet might suggest a useful result to future critics, more patient or more fortunate. We also feel an objection to the disregarding of omis sions of any part of the received text, if they occur in MSS. only. We are aware that the principle of presumption in favour of the shorter readings will not hold in Hebrew, as it does in Greek and Latin, criticism; but we cannot go into the opposite extreme.

In the instances of additional words or clauses from the Septuagint, we observe that the editor has adopted a singular plan. Instead of inserting them in Greek, he presents them converted into Hebrew. Creditable as this method may be to his acquisitions in the latter language, we cannot approve of it as either necessary or useful. Few, we appre hend, would be so satisfied with reading these retranslations, as to omit referring to the Greek. It would have been better, as well as more easy, to have exhibited the mere text of the LXX.

It is a more serious fault, that Manuscripts are reckoned by their number only: e. g. 2 mss.-4 mss.—31 mss.-"&c. In the present advanced state of criticism, this method cannot give satisfaction. If the work proceed, and we most sincerely wish it may proceed, we recommend to the indefatigable editor to adopt, in this respect, the plan of Doederlein and Meisner's edition, which, though only a duodecimo, preserves the numeral designations of MSS. by Kennicott and de Rossi. A catalogus codicum will, of course, be necessary.

The reference from the text to the inner margin is by letters, upon a very simple and easy plan. We wish that, in this part, the septuagint had been noted by 6, instead of a. The former notation is not arbitrary, it is in current use, and it is adopted in the notes of the present work.

The Notes form about the half of each page, and are both critical and interpretative. The editor has interspersed his own remarks with liberal extracts and abridgments from the ancient Jewish Targumists and commentators, and from a numerous body of modern Christian critics and divines, particularly Buxtorf, Bochart, Dathe, Rosenmuller, Houbi gant, Dimock, Pilkington, Shuckford, Kennicott, and Geddes. In this part we have observed many typographical er

rors, though of an inconsiderable kind. It seems as if the attention of the editor had been exhausted in procuring the close accuracy of the text and the inner margin. The Greek citations are not only without the accents and the spiritus lenis, but are even destitute of the spiritus asper, and frequently of the iota subscript. We point out these particulars, not invidiously, but with the best wishes for the perfection and success of this laudable undertaking. Compared with the heavier toils of the edition, the care of preventing errors in the English parts must be easy. We cordially recommend the work to the friends of sacred learning; and wish the respectable editor life, health, and encouragement to conduct it to an honourable close.

Art. VII. The Artist; a collection of Essays, relative to Painting, Poetry, Sculpture, Architecture, the Drama, Discoveries of Science, and various other Subjects. Edited by Prince Hoare, 2 vols. Price 21. 2s. Murray. 1810.

THE neglect of genius, and the consequent state of de

cay into which the arts have fallen, are constant themes of complaint with artists and those who write ou subjects connected with Art. The justice of these accusations we can admit only to a certain extent. In every age, and in none more than in the present, there has been a numerous body of artists, who with a very limited quantity of talent, unite a most extravagant proportion of pride and conceit. It is by these men, the oi ooi of Art, that the cry of neglect has been generally raised; and it has, of late, been so often and so effectually repeated, that the good-natured patrons of the arts in this country, 'haye been unusually assiduous in devising means for stilling the clamours of these importunate beggars. Institutions have been formed, and richly endowed, for the purposes of academical instruction, and of awakening genius from its slumbers by the prospect of patronage and fame. We would not, even were it in our power, discourage these charitable establishments; but we confess our scepticism as to their beneficial effects. We have, it is true, been told of rivals to Dow and Astade; but we have heard of no Raffaelles nor Angelos, of no Carraccis nor Poussins. We expect to be wearied out with the unmeaning and laborious productions of patient dullness, and surfeited with the insipid crudities of unscientific rapidity. For glow and richness, we shall have glare and tawdriness; for simplicity and chastity of form and hue, rigidity and rawness; for energy and fire, distortion and bombast; and for the commanding soul of genius, the frigid ravings of extravagance.

Our schools of art will pour forth a deluge of meek and modest mediocrity: the study of the antique and of the Italian masters will produce a race of artists without excellencies to redeem their intolerable faultlessness: but we shall look in vain for the appearance of such men as rendered illustrious the schools of Florence, Rome, Bologna, and Venice. A long and melancholy train will pass before us, like the nameless race of Banquo, shining with a dim and shadowy lustre, and gliding into darkness. These institutions, with their " rules and regulations"-their honorary medals and their more mercenary and mercantile premiumswill be the hotbeds of dullness, but the graves of talent. True genius is independent of these feeble aids. Opies and Romneys, Barrys and Wilkies, will come from the opposite extremities of the empire; and undiscouraged by difficulties, undismayed by opposition, will put to shame the puny nurselings of diletanti-patronage, and sooner or later command admiration and reward. We shall, perhaps, be sneeringly questioned, how genius is to secure a subsistence while struggling with accumulated obstacles? We ask in reply, whether the silver palettes of the Adelphi, and the preniiums of Pall Mall be likely to afford that subsistence? Let the experiment, however, be fairly tried. It cannot be productive of permanent injury; and we shall rejoice if the failure of our auguries of ill, prove us to be utterly destitute of the prophetic spirit.

The poets, though an equally meritorious, are a much more modest and unassuming race. We do not hear them prognosticating the ruin of the Empire, from the neglect, of poetry, nor clamouring for the honorary rewards of sil ver pens, and golden inkhorns, nor for the still more gratifying remuneration of well filled purses. Their appeal is to the present and the future age their patrons are the public; and notwithstanding the want of poetical exhibitions, societies, and institutions, the muse has still her votaries, and posterity will confirm the meed that the universal voice has awarded to Campbell, Scott, Southey, Montgomery, Gifford and Crabbe. But the artist will sneer at the mention of the Bard; for it is very much the fashion of the present day-among artists we mean-to claim a proud superiority for the painter and the sculptor. As we do not happen to be poets, we may safely pronounce this a most ridiculous assumption. Where are the proofs of this triumphant mastery of Art, and in what does it consist? We have not room, nor indeed inclination, to discuss this absurd question; but there is one point on which we will take the present opportunity of making a few remarks.

Painting and sculpture, say the assertors of this strange doctrine, far exceed poetry in the power of telling a story with effect. Now, even if this were the case, they could only tell a story in part they must confine themselves to one special moment of the transaction, and leave the connecting and explanatory details to the inquiry or the memory of the spectator. But they are so far from being able to tell a story, even in part, that they cannot tell it at all. The story of Laocoon and his sons, for instance, in Virgil, is a tale of exquisite beauty and effect. We sympathise with the Father, we venerate the priest, and we admire the intrepid patriot we enter into the mystery of the scene: we mourn the inevitable fate of "Troy divine," or we hail the future triumph of the Greeks: we see the interposing hand of the deity; and shudder at the terrible vengeance of Minerva. But if we lose sight of Virgil, and look only at the sculpture, the interest of the scene is gone; we see only three naked figures, probably father and sons, struggling in the tightening folds of serpents. Again, if we refer to the subject of the celebrated picture of Timanthes, nothing can be more impressive. The calm, stern steadiness of the sacrificer, the resignation of the innocent Iphigenia, the sympathizing soldiery, the grief of Menelaus, and the veiled agony of Agamemnon,—all combine to form a most interesting and expressive groupe. But suppress your previous knowledge of the subject, and the charm is destroyed: and you see nothing but a female, innocent or guilty, probably the latter,' either about to be offered as an expiatory victim, or to be punished as the immediate object of divine vengeance. The grief of Menelaus is distinctly marked; but what is the situation, and what the feelings of the chieftain who has folded his robe round his head? Is it remorse, horror, rage, or sorrow that he is so anxious to conceal? It is plain that the picture affords no solution of these difficulties; and we must, therefore, of necessity apply to other sources of information. It is to no purpose to say, that we are to include the previous knowledge of the subject: for the question in debate, is whether painting can or cannot tell a story; and if we must suppose the tale already told before the picture can be understood, it is evident that the picture alone cannot tell it.

To return to the subject with which we set out. It is very easy to account for the dismal wailings of those who are themselves neglected, and who, because they have with becoming modesty identified their own interest with the interest of the arts, complain of the neglect and decay of art. The fact is simply this-the market is overstocked. The son of the