his younger brother by both the same parents is his parents' heir-at-law; but if it ever should fall to my lot to edit a genealogical work, I shall show very distinctly how I view such cases; for I shall never permit bastardy where the parents were faithful to each other, and were married before death; though I shall always create a doubt where the mother was faithless. And I shall stand my ground by placing myself under the jurisdiction of the civil law, in this as in everything else; for I am quite ready to abide by its evils and its advantages on every subject.

"A man whose father is unknown" (a genuine filius nullius) is oftener the son of a married woman than of one who is single; and thus in this, as in everything else, the far-famed laws of England are like the "whitewashed sepulchre." They tell man there is no crime in any wickedness except in the detection; that an unmarried woman's child must remain illegitimate, even though she marry its father; and that she may have a dozen children, by as many men, and all shall be legitimate, provided she be married to anybody beforehand. This is the equity and morality of the English law.

C. E. L. is intensely in error: he argues in a circle. He intimates that the principle of the civil law is wrong, because it is not the law of England: and that it is not the law of England because it is vicious. His ideas and his reasoning are, to my mind, alike. There is no vice in the civil law, but, on the contrary, great virtue; for the civil law holds out to the parents of children born before marriage, the reward of their legitimacy upon repenting and marrying. The common law is vicious enough, for it first tempts the parents to murder such children, (by assuring them of the inevitable disgrace of their birth alive,) and then that neither constancy nor marriage can repair such disgrace, nor enable them to confer legitimacy on their innocent child. The principle of the civil law is universal, highly moral, just, and sensible; and I hope the time is not far distant when old English prejudices will sink and vanish before its advances, in this and in many other matters: and with respect to the present point, I should rejoice, indeed, to see the Honourable T. M. F. Berkeley

take advantage of the gratuitous decision in his favour, only to use his power as a peer in bringing about such a change in the law as would reinstate his elder brother, by inheritance, in those honours of which he has been so unjustly deprived.

Mr. Long may suppose that things must be true and just because we have them drummed into our ears from the very cradle; but I differ from him very materially here also. And having now said as much on this department of his work as you can allow space for, I will conclude by repeating that I consider Mr. Long's omission of the Beauforts, on the pretence of their "bastardy," equally contrary to the law of Europe and to the decision of Parliament in their favour; and that his view is altogether most unwarrantable, as unprecedented in all the Beaufort pedigrees I have ever seen-from the earliest down to that printed by Mr. Greenfield with the Tyndale genealogy.

Mr. Long must think but meanly of my understanding to suppose I could consider the alteration by Parliament of the succession to the Crown, and "Parliament's legitimation of the Beauforts," to be parallel cases. So far from being parallel, the legitimising the Beauforts was exercising a much smaller power than altering the succession to the crown. The two proceedings were wholly distinct and different. One was a private, the other a public case. One affected the whole nation most materially; the other nobody save the Beaufort family. But I think few will question that if Parliament had power to alter the very succession to the Crown, it had power to pass a bill to benefit the Beaufort family. I confess I cannot bring my mind on these subjects to be parallel with Mr. Long's. His dogmas are to me a tissue of inconsistencies. If Mr. Long will not allow Parliament the power of legitimising, I hope he will give me his opinion on its powers to dissolve marriages, and therefore to bastardise. Coke intimates it can do either, and I would humbly suggest that Coke is right.

As to the Saville descent, I am now able to throw further light on the subject, such as must make us all right, and all wrong, viz, by showing that

The Poetical Works of Goldsmith. By Bolton Corney, Esq.

THE present volume is an additional instance of Mr. Bolton Corney's taste, knowledge, and accuracy as an editor, and the publishers are deserving of great praise for the very elegant manner in which the pencil of the artist has illustrated the beautiful compositions of the poet. In the advertisement Mr. Corney informs us, that he has given us an improved text of the Deserted Village, the Threnodia, and other poems; and the Captivity is printed from the MS. belonging to Mr. Murray. He has collated the various editions of each article, and has given the text of that edition which exhibits the last revision of it. The designs which illustrate the text have been furnished by five members of the Etching Club, and, lastly, Mr. Bolton Corney offers his acknowledgments for assistance received from various friends, so that this may be considered as the most critical and correct of all editions of this pleasing and popular poet.

It is curious that so much obscurity should rest, notwithstanding all the inquiries and investigation of various biographers and critics, on the events of Goldsmith's life, and on facts connected with his productions. Mr. Corney says,

"On various events of his life we have discordant versions, the line of separation between truth and fiction being involved in hopeless obscurity; and, as to the history of his works, on which exactness of information would seem to be more attainable, the most embarrassing discrepancies prevail. We have five reports on his birthplace, and about the same number on the composition and disposal of The Vicar of

Wakefield."

Of this novel Mr. Corney says that the manuscript had been disposed of two years before the novel appeared, and its delay is a problem which defies solution. The drama of "She Stoops to Conquer" was, as Mr. Corney mentions, dedicated to Johnson:

"It may do me some honour to inform GENT. MAG. VOL. XXV.

the public that I have lived many years in intimacy with you. It may serve the interests of mankind also to inform them that the greatest wit may be found in a character without impairing the most unaffected piety."

Now as "wit" is used here in the sense it generally bore at that time in our language, of talent, knowledge, it seems to mark the free-thinking and unsteady character of the age in which Goldsmith lived, that he should have thought it necessary to observe that talent and ability were not inconsistent with religious principle. What would be thought of such an address in the present day day? or would the Rev. Mr. Dyce think it necessary to make such an antithesis the basis of a compliment, if, like Goldsmith, he dedicated a dramatic performance, as his excellent edition of Beaumont and Fletcher, to one of the Bishops, in the same manner as Goldsmith also chose Dr. Johnson, a person of profound religious principle, as the patron of his amusing and humorous play?

Mr. Bolton Corney ends his memoir with the inscription on the monument of his friend which Johnson wrote; but this epitaph was, we think, dictated rather by the warmth of friendship, than by cool and impartial judgment, and, to say the truth, we never liked the substance of it, nor the form. We never thought the topics selected for praise were judiciously chosen, or the language in which they were conveyed elegant or classical. We once asked Dr. S. Parr whether Johnson wrote good Latin; he answered, "No; he was a good judge of Latin style, but he could not himself compose classically." Nor are the Greek lines without their faults; and Mr. Seward's translation is very poor and feeble indeed, with the barbarous expression of "letter'd dust." Let us try it more literally, thus :

Stranger, the tomb inscribed with Goldsmith's

1

Your mandate I got;
You may all go to pot.
Had your senses been right,
You'd have sent before night.
As I hope to be sav'd,
I put off being shav'd,-
For I could not make bold,
While the matter was cold,
To meddle in suds,
Or to put on my duds.
So tell Horneck and Nesbitt,
And Baker and his bitt,
And Kauffman beside,
And the jessamy bride,
With the rest of the crew,-
The Reynoldses, too,
Little Comedy's face,
And the Captain in lace-
By-the-bye you may tell him
I have something to sell him,
Of use, I insist,
When he comes to enlist.
Your worships must know,
That, a few days ago,
An order went out

For the foot-guards so stout,
To wear tails in high taste,
Twelve inches at least :

Now, I've got him a scale
To measure each tail,-
To lengthen a short tail,
And a long one to curtail.-
Yet how can I when vex'd
Thus stray from my text!
Tell each other to rue
Your Devonshire crew,
For sending so late
To one of my state;
But 'tis Reynolds's way
From wisdom to stray,
And Angelica's whim
To be frolic like him.

But, alas! your good worships, how could
they be wiser,
[Advertiser?
When both have been spoil'd in to-day's
OLIVER GOLDSMITH.

ass,

At never once finding a visit from Pam. I lay down my stake, apparently cool, While the harpies about me all pocket the pool. I fret in my gizzard, yet, cautious and sly, I wish all my friends may be bolder than I. Yet still they sit snug, not a creature will aim, By losing their money, to venture at fame. 'Tis in vain that at niggardly caution I scold, 'Tis in vain that I flatter the vain and the bold; All play their own way, and they think me an [pass." What does Mrs. Bunbury? "I, Sir? I Pray what does Miss Horneck? Take courage, come-do! [pass too!" "Who, I? Let me see, Sir? Why, I must Mr. Bunbury frets, and I fret like the devil, To see them so cowardly, lucky, and civil. Yet still I sit snug, and continue to sigh on, Till made by my losses as bold as a lion. I venture at all, while my avarice regards The whole pool as my own. Come, give me [that's good; "Well done!" cry the ladies'; "Ah! Doctor, The pool's very rich. Ah! the Doctor is loo'd." Thus foil'd in my courage, on all sides per

five cards.

plex'd,

I ask for advice from the lady that's next. Pray, Ma'am, be so good as to give your advice; [twice? Do n't you think the best way is to venture it "I advise," cries the lady, "to try it, I ownAh! the Doctor is loo'd! Come, Doctor, put [eager, Thus playing and playing, I still grow more And so bold, and so bold, I'm at last a bold [skill'd inNow, ladies, I ask if law matters you're Whether crimes such as yours should not come

down."

beggar.

before Fielding?

For giving advice that is not worth a straw May well be called picking of pockets in law; And picking of pockets, with which I now

charge ye, Is, by quinto Elizabeth, death without clergy. What justice, when both to the Old Bailey brought! [thought. By the gods! I'll enjoy it, though tis but in Both are placed at the bar, with all proper decorum, ['em.

With bunches of fennel and nosegays before Both cover their faces with mobs and all that, But the judge bids them, angrily, take off their hat. [round,When uncovered, a buzz of inquiry runs pilfering found.

To melt me with pity, and soften my swearing. First, Sir Charlès advances, with phrases well [young."

strung;

"Consider, dear Doctor, the girls are but The younger the worse-I return him againIt shows that their habits are all dyed in grain. "But then they're so handsome! one's bosom it grieves." [thieves!

What signifies handsome when people are "But where is your justice? their cases are hard."

What signifies justice? I want the reward.

There's the parish of Edmonton offers forty pounds; there's the parish of St. Leonard's, Shoreditch, offers forty pounds; there's the parish of Tyburn, from the Hog-in-the-Pound to St. Giles's workhouse, offers forty pounds. I shall have all that if I convict them.

"But consider their case, it may yet be your own; [of stone?" And see how they kneel! Is your heart made This moves,-so at last I agree to relent, For ten pounds in hand, and ten pounds to be

spent.

I challenge you all to answer this. I tell you you cannot; it cuts deep. But now for the rest of the letter, and next-but I want

room. So I believe I shall battle the rest out at Boston some day next week.

I don't value you at all!

O. G.

The Aldine edition of Goldsmith we like much the best of all the preceding, though Mr. Corney has given the editor of that a slight reprimand, "for the benefit of his soul" as Sir Herbert Jenner would say; but Mr. Pickering, the very learned, judicious, and excellent publisher, has placed an adamantine chain against all improvements in successive editions by stereotyping them; so that if an editor of them, by small pay, and spare diet, and a straw mattrass, should happen to be able to improve his first thoughts, he is prevented. Still we think all these matters should be looked upon in an equal light, and with impartiality. It is possible that an unprincipled or unpursed editor might purposely in his first edition withhold some communication, which he might charge for in his second; and it would of course be the interest of the publisher to make him disgorge as much as he possibly could, at the first reach which the experimental squadron took, after the Aldine anchor

was weighed. However, we think that the biography of Goldsmith has not yet been written; and that his poems may be more successfully edited than they yet have been. We can give only a few most unconnected and scattered hints. Has it been observed that the Traveller was reviewed by Dr. Johnson in the Critical Review, 1764, vol. xviii.? Has it been observed that there are two manuscript letters of Goldsmith printed in Elegant Extracts, by Whittingham, Chiswick, 18mo. 6 vols.? That Miss Hawkins, in her Anecdotes, (p. 7,) says, "I little thought what I should have to boast, when Goldsmith taught me to play Jack and Gill by two bits of paper on his fingers;" that in Colman's Memoirs, vol. i. p. 274, is a letter from Goldsmith to him on his play of the "Good-natured Man?" We have filled our copies of Goldsmith's works with references to anecdotes and valuable criticisms, which have not been brought forward hitherto in illustration of the subject, but which it is our intention carefully to preserve to ourselves, because no encouragement is offered for their communication. Mr. Dyce is a solitary exception to the poverty of editors; he can afford to keep his carriage on his editorial labours; but who else can be mentioned? But, quitting this melancholy part of the subject, we observe that Mr. Corney thinks Goldsmith "admitted some deformities" in his Beauties of English Poetry. To what does he allude? Surely not to Prior. Is not Johnson called the great English moralist? and does not he say, "No, no; Prior is a lady's book; no lady is ashamed to have it standing in her library." We quite agree with him: if ladies are allowed to roam at will over sculpture galleries at home and abroad, in the morning; in the evening to go to the theatres to see The Merry Wives of Windsor, and other such divertimenti; to criticise Etty's pictures at the Royal Academy; and to end the night by dancing waltzes and polkas, they will take no harm from Goldsmith's Selections of English Poetry; indeed, Goldsmith himself conceived that he showed very great judgment in the selection. There is great bigotry, we are sure, great misapprehension, and great sectarian prejudice, exhibited on these subjects. Is it to be supposed that such grave