And on it there were young flowers growing,
Of gentle breath and hue.

The fish swam by the castle wall,
And they seem'd joyous each and all;
The eagle rode the rising blast,
Methought he never flew so fast

As then to me he seem'd to fly."

lieve that long ages have passed since he inhabited the I cell. We see him seated at the foot of one of these pillars -not in seething darkness--but in the broad cold glare of day, which shows him more clearly how completely he is isolated from all society. These are no common dungeons. Tyranny hath lavished all her pomp upon them, as if to make them a temple wherein the victims to her pride might be worthily immolated. illustrious captive droop, or "'bate one jot of heart.” Yet does not the He thinks only of the cause for which he suffers, and the thought strengthens him. He sits proud and un

Were it not for the localities, the Chillon of Byron has as little likeness to the Chillon of reality, as Monmouth to Macedon. The poet took the hint of a dungeon and a martyr to his faith from Chillon, but this was all. Both prison and prisoner are the creatures of his own imagina-bending—an innocent Marius upon the ruins of despotism, which he has overthrown by raising his soul above its petty malice.

tion.

ter.

It is Bonnivard who is the spirit of Chillon, and he is as little like the sentimentalist of Byron's fancy as may well be. Indeed, such a creature as the latter never existed save in the brain of a deeply-read, passionate, and imaginative poet, too young to have an accurate perception of characHe is neither a robust and gigantic son of Uri, nor a sturdy burgher of Berne, nor an acute and fickle citizen of Geneva. He is an amplification of the story extant in our schoolbooks of the old Chinese, who, upon being liberated at the death of an Emperor, and finding all with whom he could claim kindred dead, begged to be shut up again; and he is as inferior to our old friend in simple and intense pathos, as he is superior in imaginative sentiment.

Bonnivard was a character of a different stamp-a scholar, and a man of the world. He was not one who adhered to a faith merely because it was his father's-he burst the bonds of old superstition-he stood up against the feudal tyrants of the day. He suffered a long and dreary imprisonment, but he did not come forth from it with a crippled heart and alienated understanding. He came forth as able and willing as ever to do battle for civil liberty and the reformed religion. Nor was he one of those who contend for liberty with a blind faithsturdy souls, such as in all ages have striven to shake off oppression, merely because it sat uncomfortably heavy upon their shoulders-good and useful private soldiers in the armies of freedom. Bonnivard was one of those superior minds who love liberty much for itself, but more for the blessings it brings-increase of intellectual power and moral worth. And, accordingly, we find him, when safely seated among his fellow-freemen of Geneva, under his own vine and his own fig-tree, doing all in his power to promote science and pure tolerating Christianity..

How much more worthy of such a scene is Byron's
Sonnet on, than his Prisoner of, Chillon!
"Eternal spirit of the chainless mind!

Brightest in dungeons, Liberty! thou art,
For there thy habitation is the heart-
The heart which love of thee alone can bind;
And when thy sons to fetters are consign'd—

To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom,
Their country conquers with their martyrdom,
And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind.
Chillon! thy prison is a holy place,

And thy sad floor an altar-for 'twas trod,
Until his very steps have left a trace

Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod,
By Bonnivard-May none those marks efface!
For they appeal from tyranny to God."

LITERARY CRITICISM.

The Characters of Theophrastus; illustrated by Physiog nomical Sketches. To which are subjoined Hints on the Individual Varieties of Human Nature, and General Remarks. (Being Vol. XIV. of the Family Classical Library.) London. Printed by A. J. Valpy. 1831. In the ancient world, Greece alone (perhaps we might ethical philosophy. The prophets, the teachers of the even restrict the assertion to Athens) produced a body of "chosen seed," restricted themselves to the occasional enunciation of moral axioms-deeply felt, comprehensive, embodied in glowing poetry; they sought to establish no wasted their time in twisting what moral precepts they systematic digest of moral truth. Other Oriental nations elaborated into fantastic enigmas. festoons of beautiful illustration around the temple reared The Romans hung by the Greeks, but added neither to its compass nor its solidity. They traced out with greater accuracy some minute fibres of the moral frame, but they took no comFor this he was cast into a dun-manding view of its circumference, or the bearing of its geon when no more than twenty-three, and detained a parts. prisoner for two years. Afterwards, while crossing Mount Jura, in 1530, he was encountered by robbers, who first plundered and then delivered him into the hands of his inveterate enemy the Duke of Savoy. He remained in the dungeon of Chillon till 1536, when he was delivered by the invading army of Berne. He was triumphantly received by the enfranchised Genevese, who adopted him as a citizen, presented him with a house, and allotted him a pension, his own estates having been confiscated.

There is a touch of romance, too, in the adventures of Bonnivard. Of a noble and privileged family, early taught to feel the advantages of rank-for he was appointed to the priory of St Victor at the early age of fourteenhe boldly espoused the cause of the republicans of Geneva, when their liberties were threatened by their bishop and the Duke of Savoy.

certain elegant scholars of the day to discharge all their
In Athens, however—a city against which it has pleased
narrow stock of small envenomed sarcasms—a succession
of philosophers laid broad and deep the foundations of a
system of moral philosophy,-nay, carried the building to
topped.
a height which has not, even to this day, been much over-
Of the doctrines which he propounded, and the peculiar
First came Socrates—the practical philosopher.
bent of his investigations, we know nothing directly.
What accounts we have of them are contained in the
writings of his disciples, and more or less tinged and
modified by their peculiar habits of thought. As far,
however, as we can judge, he studied with an acute dis-
cernment the characters of men, and the relations in which

It is the memory of this champion of humanity that hallows the dungeons of Chillon, attracts us thither as pilgrims, or makes us rejoice in the possession of their counterfeit. There needs no material gloom to add to the horror with which we regard the walls which con-human beings stand to each other and to the physical fined the generous, the brave, the devoted. Puling lamentations over the rending of human ties are an impertinence they break in upon the intellectual majesty of his sufferings. We look upon the traces which his steps have left in the rocky floor, till we can scarcely be

universe, in order to discover precepts for the regulation of their actions, by an adherence to which the sum of happiness might be increased. He seems to have disregarded mere speculative knowledge, to have pursued such enquiries alone as could be turned to a practical use.

If

portment in society.

Aristotle arranged the results of their investigations in scientific form, and made a bold offer at a theory of morals. How much has since been added to what they have achieved, we may enquire upon some other occasion. Our object in making this recapitulation at present, is to show the progress made in moral science at the time Theophrastus commenced his career, as the only fair method of estimating the value of his works.

The original name of this philosopher was Tyrtamus, He was born in Lesbos, about 395 years before the Christian era. He studied under Plato. At the recommendation of Aristotle, he assumed the name of Euphrastus, (the good speaker,) for which he substituted, at a later period that of Theophrastus, (the divine speaker.) He succeeded Aristotle in the Lyceum. Diogenes Laertius enumerates the titles of above two hundred treatises which he is said to have composed. The work of which an able and elegant translation is now offered to the public, is apparently only a fragment. He thus describes its object in a prefatory epistle :

we can trust Xenophon-and the simple, unambitious style of his work, renders him little obnoxious to suspicion -Socrates possessed a clear insight into the characters of men, and a delicate sense of the workings and tendencies of passion. In the didactic part of his labours, he was assisted by an uncommon power of setting difficult questions in a clear light, and a talent for discovering, and urging to different individuals, those motives most calculated to influence them. He was a Utilitarian in a liberal acceptation of the word, for he respected those feelings which the sect of modern philosophers who affect the title too frequently disregard. He was possessed of an energetic will, capable of controlling his emotions by his convictions, thus lending a moral sublimity to his character, and increasing his influence over the minds of men. His disciple Plato was endowed with a mind of loftier aspirations, more delicate sense of beauty, and wider grasp of intellect, but less power of practical application. Socrates not only formed his own character for all practical purposes, he sought to adapt himself to circumstances, and to teach his secret to his fellow-citizens. Plato's mind was more turned inward. He felt vividly "You know, my friend, that I have long been an attenthe dignity and beauty of the perfected human character, tive observer of human nature: I am now in the ninetyand sought to conform his own to his glowing idea, by ninth year of my age; and during the whole course of my cultivating his powers and capabilities to the uttermost. life I have conversed familiarly with men of all classes, He felt the reflected nobility which the expansion of the and of various climes; nor have I neglected closely to watch intellect and imagination casts upon the whole man. the actions of individuals, -as well the profligate as the virtuous. With these qualifications, I have thought myself sought to perfect himself, not like Socrates, by subduing fitted for the task of describing those habitual peculiarities every thought, wish, and action, to the mastery of a will by which the manners of every one are distinguished. I guided by fixed principles, but by ennobling every tend- shall therefore present to your view, in succession, the doency of his nature, and rendering it incapable of ill. In mestic conduct, and, what may be termed, the besetting this proud and daring attempt-striving to communicate practices of various characters. I am willing, my friend something of the divinity to his soul, by fixing his gaze cial to the succeeding generation, who, by consulting these Polycles, to believe that a work of this kind may be benefiupon its glories-to expand his mind, by embracing the patterns of good and of evil, may learn at once to avoid knowledge of universal nature-to strengthen himself what is base, and to assimilate their sentiments and their against the assaults of evil, by the conviction that the habits to what is noble; and thus become not unworthy of attainment of moral beauty is the chief good-he was their virtuous ancestors. I now turn to my task: it will but too apt to lose sight of the real state of human nature. be your part to follow my steps, and to judge of the corHence, his rules for the constitution of political society rectness of my observations. Omitting, therefore, any farare frequently inept. Hence, instead of mingling with ther prefatory matter, I commence by describing the Dissembler; and in conformity with the plan which I propose the workingday world like his master, and seeking to communicate truth to all, he preferred insinuating his the term; and then portray the manners of the supposed to pursue throughout the work, I shall first briefly define heavenly temper and conceptions into the feelings as well individual to whom the character is attributed. It is in as the reason of a few select disciples, in the course of a this way that I shall endeavour to exhibit, according to long and confidential intercourse. He felt his place in their specific differences, the several dispositions incident to the moral world. It was his to form those who were afterwards to stamp their own characters upon whole nations. Of him, even more truly than of Milton, may it be said,

"His soul was as a star, and dwelt apart :

He

He had a voice whose sound was like the sea, Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free." To him succeeded Aristotle, without the everyday practical wisdom of Socrates, and without the wrapt poetic grandeur and beauty of Plato, but with a subtlety of apprehension, and a grasp of intellect, which has never been equalled. Socrates taught practical morality as far

as it regulates our outward conduct to others. Plato taught practical morality as far as it regulates the inward man.

Aristotle did neither the one nor the other. He looked upon the whole matter as a great philosophical problem, and he demonstrated it. The scholar of Socrates who acts up to his master's precepts, will be an agreeable and safe companion, but it is possible that he may not command our love. The scholar of Plato may be a dangerous friend, but not from predetermination, and he will be the object of deep and reverential devotion. The scholar of Aristotle will indubitably know all about the matter, but it does not follow that he will be either trust-worthy or estimable.

. From this review it appears that these three masterspirits succeeded in accumulating a great mass of materials for an exhaustive system of ethics. Plato elucidated those principles of our nature which constitute the moral man. Socrates taught what ought to be his de

human nature."

Only thirty of the sketches which the author here promises have come down to us; and these are all pictures of vicious characters. As they are the earliest, however, so are they among the happiest specimens of a much-admired class of essays-brief and felicitous sketches of character. The following will serve to show the style of Theophrastus :

THE ADULATOR.

"Adulation is the base converse of an inferior with one

from whom he seeks some sordid advantage. The Adulator, walking with his patron, says, Mark you not how the eyes of all are turned towards you? There is not another man in the city who attracts so much attention. It was but yesterday that the estimation in which you are held was publicly acknowledged in the portico: there were more than thirty persons sitting together; and, in the course of conversation, it was enquired who merited to be called the most worthy citizen of the state; when one and all agreed that you were the man.' While he proceeds with discourse down from the great man's cloak; or, if a gust of wind has of this sort, he employs himself in picking some particle of lodged an atom of straw in his curls, he carefully removes it; and, smiling, adds, See, now, because these two days I have not been with you, your beard is filled with grey hairs; and yet, to say truth, no man of your years has a head of hair so black.'

"When his patron is about to speak, the parasite imposes silence on all present; and he himself, while he listens, gives signals of applause; and at every pause exclaims, Well said! well said!' If the speaker is pleased to be facetious, he forces a grin; or puts his cloak to his mouth, as if striving to suppress a burst of laughter. He commands

From what has come down to us of Theophrastus, we can only regard him as one who, leaving the scientific department of the study of man where he found it, applied himself to the prosecution of its natural history. This is a branch of knowledge which has ever since been pursued in such a desultory way, that we are inclined to attribute a higher value, on account of their rarity, even to the inimitable delineations of this author.

The translation now before us is (as we have already observed) ably executed, except in the titles of some of the sketches, which do not exactly correspond to the characters contemplated by the author. The work is illus trated by spirited engravings, and richly deserves the public patronage.

Ornithological Biography; or, an Account of the Habits of the Birds of the United States of America; accompanied by Descriptions of the objects represented in the work entitled, the Birds of America, and interspersed with Delineations of American Scenery and Manners. By John James Audubon. Royal 8vo. Pp. 512. Edinburgh: Adam Black. London: Longman and Co. 1831.

THIS is the work of an enthusiast in his calling-of a true enthusiast, for the contagion of his feelings extends to the reader. We sit with Mr Audubon, day after day, amid the fog, and the wind, and the rain, upon the bleak and barren rock, waiting for the approach of some unknown species of eagle, a transient glance of which has chained him to the spot. We track the deer, with patient assiduity, through the long and tangled herbage, over the mouldering stems of trees, and beneath the verdant canopy of the forest. We are not only, as he expresses himself in his introductory address, “brought into contact with an American woodsman," "-we assume the character for the time. Never, since we read Robinson Crusoe, have we felt such a hankering to enact the part of any one whose adventures we were reading.

His

making wild music as its long branches waved in the wind, and the eagle, describing wide circles far above him, pressed. For twenty years he ransacked the woods, were present to his view. Nature was not to be relakes, and prairies of America. And all this he did simply from an engrossing love of nature. The thought of turning his pursuits to account, and increasing by their means the circle of human knowledge, never once seems acquaintance of the Prince of Musignano at Philato have struck him, until he accidentally formed the delphia.

Unable to find in America engravers who would undertake to do justice to his drawings, he embarked for England. It was in Edinburgh that he commenced the publication of his engravings. Unexpected difficulties came in the way, and the work was transferred to London, and put into the hands of Robert Havell, jun. Four years have now elapsed since the commencement of tions, containing a hundred plates-in which every bird this stupendous work; and one volume of the illustra is represented as large as life-is now before the public. The work now on our table is intended to describe these illustrations.

It contains the descriptions of ninety-nine specimens of American birds, many of them entirely new, all of them presented to us with unprecedented fidelity, feeling, and intimate knowledge of their habits. With the assistance of Mr Macgillivray, Mr Audubon lays before us excellent scientific descriptions of every species. But the great charm of the work consists in his own narratives of the habits of the different birds, the manner in which he became acquainted with them, and his long and painful searches after them. Interspersed are twenty essays illustrative of American scenery and manners, which convey to the reader a more correct and pleasing idea of the backsettlements than any thing we have met with. We know not whether we most admire the author's sketches of character or of inanimate nature. His Colonel Boon, Eccentric Naturalist, and Original Painter, are valuable additions to our knowledge of human nature. His hurricane is a splendid and powerful piece of poetry-his earthquake, if possible, still more grand. We could expatiate for ever on the charms of this work, but one extract will serve better to give our readers a just notion of it. Two of these essays have already graced our columns the Flood on the Mississippi, and the Improvements of its Navigation-we now add another:

THE PRAIRIE.

"On my return from the Upper Mississippi, I found myself obliged to cross one of the wide prairies, which, in the country. that portion of the United States, vary the appearance of The weather was fine, all around me was as bosom of nature. My knapsack, my gun, and my dog, refreshing and blooming as if, it had just issued from the were all I had for baggage and company. But, although well moccassined, I moved slowly along, attracted by the brilliancy of the flowers, and the gambols of the fawns around their dams, to all appearance as thoughtless of danger as I felt myself.

Audubon is an American by birth. The productions of nature were objects of intense interest to him before he could render to himself a reason for his emotions. father encouraged the propensity, by accompanying him on his rambles, procuring for him birds and flowers, pointing out their peculiarities, and describing their habits. Young Audubon strove to preserve the specimens of natural history which fell into his hands, but found, to his mortification, that death instantly dulled and sullied the My march was of long duration; I saw the sun sinking brightness of their vesture. The father came again to beneath the horizon long before I could perceive any aphis assistance, by putting into his hands a book of illus-pearance of woodland, and nothing in the shape of man had trations. From that moment he became a painter, as I met with that day. The track which I followed was well as a collector, of specimens of natural history. With only an old Indian trace, and as darkness overshaded the a true feeling of art, however, he could not satisfy him- prairie, I felt some desire to reach at least a copse, in which self; and the productions of the preceding year were re-ming over and around me, attracted by the buzzing wings I might lie down to rest. The night-bawks were skimgularly made bonfires in celebration of his birthday. of the beetles which form their food, and the distant Being sent to France for the rudiments of his education, howling of wolves gave me some hope that I should soon he there formed his hand and eye under the guidance of arrive at the skirts of some woodland. David. But his love of art was subordinate to his love of nature, and on his return to his native forests, he resumed his old pursuits with fresh vigour.

Audubon has tried, in his time, various branches of commerce, but ever without profit. His soul was in the woods: the din, smoke, and bustle of the city might surround him, but the cataract of the rock, the lofty pine,

"I did so, and almost at the same instant a fire-light attracting my eye, I moved towards it, full of confidence that it proceeded from the camp of some wandering Indians. from the hearth of a small log cabin, and that a tall figure I was mistaken: -I discovered by its glare that it was passed and repassed between it and me, as if busily engaged in household arrangements.

"I reached the spot, and presenting myself at the door,