looking round him on the world thus from the standing-point of honour, from the standing-point of history, and from the standing-point of religious philosophy, it may seem a rather abrupt descent to propose entering on a view of the things around us from the standing-ground of common life, of mankind, of sympathy with the ordinary feelings and conditions of humanity, especially when that ground is contracted, as we propose, into the spot that may be called the Lover's seat, as implying that things will be viewed from it with the eyes and mind of two common persons taken at hazard out of the population, without pretensions of any kind, only that being in love with each other, they are therefore naturally in love with all things in general that they see, and therefore, unknown to themselves, the best qualified to survey them. But though it may seem thus a descent for him at first sight, and appear a returning to earth and resting on it, he ought to regard it as being in reality, in accordance with the strictest philosophic exigencies, a completion of all his former enterprises. "For," to speak philosophically, as addressing such a proficient, "symmetry is the limit towards which the all-pervading law of action and reaction ever tends*." And as in the physical world this is the condition of statical equilibrium-as all over the universe the movements that may be observed in bodies are to be regarded as so many efforts on the part of the grand agencies of nature to establish symmetrical and stable compositions, in which they do not completely succeed only because of the conflict and antagonism arising from local agencies or particular circumstances or forces, as rivers running to the sea and wearing away the mountains are agencies of the law of gravitation approximating the globe to the form of a sphere, as even the movements of the atmosphere are as symmetrical as circumstances will admit, as matter itself is ever tending more to crystallize, that is to symmetrize-so in the intellectual order symmetry, or the avoidance of any preponderance of one set of truths to the prejudice of another, is the order to which we should endeavour to make our own mind, and whatever emanates from it, conformable, preventing undesirable and extreme results. But why, he will ask, lead us to the Lover's * Macvicar.

seat and choose lovers as the readers and listeners? For a very practical and philosophical reason. Men are insensible to the beauty of common things through social pride and dislike of nature; they are insensible to the virtue of common things through spiritual pride and worldly ambition; and they are blind to the truth of common things through intellectual pride and self-love amorous of distinction and singularity. But from social pride and dislike of nature, from spiritual pride and worldly ambition, from intellectual pride and self-love amorous of singularity lovers are in a common, as distinguished from a transcendental, way, most free of all persons. Therefore lovers are the best qualified to pursue the inquiry which is here proposed; and we must suppose ourselves too in their physiological condition, if we would understand or reap the benefit of all that is to follow. The title of the work must not, therefore, lead our suspicious friend to think disparagingly of the object; or of himself, if he should approach it with favour, as if it could be traced to some passion, or to the remembrance of some charm operating on the sensibilities, and causing hallucination in the judgment. Such persons as this title indicates have been chosen simply from a belief that they are in general the most likely to take not only what may be called a common view of things in general, but also one that is most free from the mists of those evils which cause the greatest obscurity in the way of looking at them.

As for the choice of the subject itself, it may be truly said to spring from an intellectual want, and a conviction of the sober understanding that the order of truths concerned with the use and enjoyment of common things is of essential importance to correct the irregular and engrossing tendencies which exist in the other spheres of thought, when that order is put aside to allow the latter an undue and unnatural preponderance. With Pindar therefore I might say, even with a view to these light pages,

"The shaft of truth I throw, and boundless is my theme."

Can there be, in fact, in all philosophy a lesson of more prac tical value than that which teaches us to think, speak, and act in conformity with these three maxims-that the beautiful is

what is most cheap, so cutting off avarice and ambition by the roots; that virtue is what is most common, so extirpating fanaticism, superstition, and vain-glory; that truth is what is nearest to us in the common sense of men, in tradition, and in nature itself, so reducing all opinions to the soberness and standard of the revealed eternal wisdom which is in harmony with reason and with nature? We shall find in the end that to turn towards common things thus like two lovers, with a doting and a seemingly for the moment exclusive regard, is but a bending back to straighten the rod; that it is not to leave but to rivet, as it were with a secret interior chain, only the stronger for not being attended with the clank of names and words, our affection for the very subjects which our friend has talked of as having constituted his previous studies-our love for honour, for wisdom, for the lessons of history, and for religion in the highest, most positive, and most transcendental form, which, so far from being antagonistic and distasteful, proves nutritive and congenial to the humanist who studies the philosophy of common things. We shall find too that this descent, if it must still be called so, will render a peculiar service to some minds, tuning them from discords which the extravagance of others may have produced. What those results are we may so pass over in silence as yet to leave them looking at them and keeping them in mind. But if any one reverting thus to his own former studies should fear a charge of inconsistency from the turn of thought that is proposed here, he should be reminded that it is not justly incurred by a moderation and adaptation of thoughts and subjects to suit a change of times and of dangers. For, to use the language of a true lover of his country, "This he should have learned, this he has seen, this he has read in the best writings, this has been transmitted to him by the wisest and most constant men, both in this kingdom and in other countries -that not always the same things are to be urged by the same persons; but that those are to be defended which the state of the republic, the inclinations of the age, and the exigencies of concord may require." This is perhaps what he has done, and which assuredly he should wish always to do; and the freedom which is our birthright, and which we all desire, which he has never given up and never will give up, he may believe consists

not in pertinacity, but in a certain moderation, while embracing not a part but the universality of truth.

The course before us may be void of pretensions, demanding not genius, but observation; not eloquence, but common sense; not gravity, but smiles or tears, as the subject may inspire at the moment, but the more simple it is the more some persons whose necessities are kept in view will be attracted by it: for whatever our objector may say respecting his own unwillingness, they will think that for their parts they need repose after con verse with the transcendental; and, as the old poet says,

"The satiety of mortals is grievous to incur *."

"Quod

They will for a season have had enough of it. They will be moderate now; and, in fact, the greatest truths are too ethereal for human nature's daily food. Are we not told that St. John the Evangelist had his pet bird? We cannot be always climbing precipices and surveying the world as it were from the bed of St. Kevin at the seven churches. Having been once inducted into it, we may be permitted to repose our limbs in a bower such as this. Besides, experience may have taught many what we shall prove later, that these highest truths involved in the theologico-philosophic view must either embrace within their limits what is common and most familiar, or else lose their value. Every thing, at all events, in turn is best. semper audes agere, semper non ages," says Angelin Gazée, in his Pia Hilaria. "There is a time for the eye to dwell on the grave printed page, but there is also a time to gaze on earth, air, ocean, and the starry sky; there is a time to look into the faces of our fellow-beings, the bright and laughing face, or the sad and sorrowing one †." Therefore from long solitary study, such as our friend has been describing, from the elevated roads of honour and chivalry, from the schools of history and philosophy, from the sacred limits where divinest truths are incidentally presented or elicited, our readers may repair seeking rest, and contentment, and delight, to the lowly retreats where, like Antæus when suffocated by the gripe of Hercules, by touching their mother earth they can renew their strength, and recover

what is the most precious of intellectual gifts, universality of
mind and unlimited benevolence, by habits of conversation with
the loving side of nature. And perhaps after all the subject
itself, independent of all reserves, is as elevated as any other.
It may be allowable to observe that the beauty of the earth, the
common things and the common persons of the world, are called
upon by the high voices that we have heard in churches to
praise our Creator; it is not only the angels that are so ex-
horted-it is the waters, the sun, moon, and stars, every shower
and dew, the fire, and heat, and cold, the hoary frosts, the ice
and snow, the nights and days, the light and darkness, the
lightning and clouds, the earth, the mountains and hills, all the
things that spring up in the earth, the fountains, seas, and rivers,
the fowls of the air, the beasts and cattle, the sons of men,
young men, and maidens, the old with the younger, and all
people, or, in other words, all the common visible things around
us, which, if they were not worthy of being much thought
about, would hardly have been called on to fulfil such a pure
and exalted ministry. Our object then, I conceive, will prove
both useful and agreeable; and I own I feel inclined to pursue
it with the squl of love. As Hotspur says,
""Tis a good plot,
good friends, and full of expectation-an excellent plot, very
good friends." To apprehend thus will enable us to draw a
profit from all things we shall see: and then, even already,
what sweet peace feel we now! I am ravished with it. Here's
my last farewell: sit along with us,—

"We'll raise by art out of the earth a palace,
Whither thyself shalt oft resort;

Shalt call together the most glorious spirits
Of all the best that have been in the world;
And they shall come only to feast with thee."

Still perhaps some one will ask, knowing little about lovers and a stranger at their seat, How are we to understand such engagements as appropriate to this bower where we propose to fly from all noises, from all discussions, and from every thing but the peaceful charms of a quiet scene? There is no inconsistency implied, no converting either of the parties into a professor or even speaker; for all that is proposed is to hear a few pages of

VOL. I.

C