word in Addison, Goldsmith, Thomson, and other English classics. So much for this Americanism. After all, we wish a good substitute could be found for the word in this sense; but, unless such a substitute is found, the old use will continue, whereever the English language is written or spoken. There is another use of the word, which is so contrary to all propriety, that we cannot but notice it. It is no less, than to make a bad use of; as when a person is said to have improved his youth in sin and folly. This cannot be said to be a general use; but it is too frequent. It is not confined to the western side of the Atlantic. M'Crie, in his life of Knox, has it more than oncer Another use still, not so utterly perverted as the last mentioned, but still quite improper, is common on both sides of the water. It takes place when to improve is intended to convey the same meaning as to employ, or to use. Many other Americanisms, if particularly examined, would turn out, like the above, to be Anglicisms of several centuries. In regard to the introduction of new words, while we are far from attempting to excuse Mr. Barlow, we cannot but think, that much very superficial criticism has been displayed on this subject; especially by some of our American reviewers. They would gladly interdict the use of every word not found in Johnson's dictionary. Happily for mankind their wishes are as impotent, as their scheme is vision ary and ridiculous. It would be as practicable to build a pernia nent dam across the Mississippi, with willow twigs, as for critics to prevent all changes and improvements in language, by the interposition of their authority. Several hundred new words have become good English since the days of Johnson, and are used without scruple by all the Reviewers themselves, and by nearly all speakers and writers. Many hundreds of words, which hold a place in the latest editions of Johnson's dictionary, are not good English now, and probably never will be, whatever they may have been centuries ago. We mean, that they are not written or spoken now, and probably never will be, by any judicious writer or speaker of our language. How absurd to plead for an unalterable vocabulary, when commerce, the arts and sciences, politics, and all things beneath the sun, are in a state of perpetual change? Who hesi• tates to use revolutionize, demoralize, and perhaps fifty other verbs of the same termination, which are not found in Johnson's dictionary? Nothing is probable, than that many other verbs, of the same termination, will be added to our language hereafter. Verbs will be formed from nouns, and nouns from verbs, and adjectives and adverbs from both, while men think and talk. Many words now in use will be dropped, and many others introduced from other languages. In short, as Mr. Webster argues with irresistible force, whenever the written language becomes fixed,it becomes, or will soon become, a dead language; for the great mass of mankind would not hesitate to express new ideas by new words, more and new combinations, though the comparatively small number of writers should hesitate to follow them. Let it not be thought, that we are the advocates of rash inno vations in language. We only insist, that such changes as are recommended by utility, necessity, or general practice, should be tolerated in language, as in other things. Critics and reviewers may, for ought we care, lash as severely as they please all pedantic, affected, unnecessary introduction of new terms, and new phrases; but let them not impede that course of improvement, of which our noble and copious language is still suscepti ble-not less susceptible than any other earthly possession Above all, let their doctrine and practice agree better than they do, while they attempt to con fine others to Johnson's dictionary, and yet boldly avail themselves of a more modern vocabulary. Should it be asked, when may a writer use a word, which has not been sanctioned by any considerable printed authority? we answer, a good taste is the only proper guide. As a general rule the spoken language should precede the written When a word is extensively used by well educated persons, in mixed companies, in the hall of legislation, and in the pulpit, where can be the presumption of putting it into a book? It is to be observed, that at a period when the whole face of the civilized world is changing, we might reasonably expect, that there would be many changes in language; and doubtless greater changes, in all respects, are still to take place, than any which our eyes have witnessed, great and momentous as these have been. Among the many causes, to which the introduction of new words into our language, is to be attributed, no other is so universally operative, as the immense circulation of English reviews, and the avidity with which they are read. In these works, there is a constant propensity to naturalize French words; to introduce new scientific terms into the common dialect; and to form a new style by new combinations. And yet some of these very works appear to be strenuous advocates of the immutability of the English language, and haughty censors of those who venture a step beyond certain limits, by which our tongue was imagined to be circumscribed a few years ago. But we must return to the poem of Mr. Barlow. The following picture of war contains bombast enough, and at least one vulgar image: "His head is hung with clouds; his giant hand Flings a blue flame far flickering to the land; His blood-stain'd limbs drip carnage as he strides But the most remarkable instance of the bathos remains yet to be mentioned. Atlas makes J a long speech, in the eighth book, on the wrongs which his children, the people of Africa, had experienced from slavery and the slave trade. Towards, the close of it, he threatens mankind, that, unless they desist from such horrible injustice and oppression, the whole race of men shall be destroyed by a vast subterranean explosion, which, bursting from the centre of the earth, shall throw all the surface of the globe, in massy fragments, high into the atmosphere; and the fragments, returning toward each other by the power of grav. itation, shall sink in the rising waves, leaving only some single pinnacle of a mountain elevated above the ocean. So vast an explosion is certainly a sublime the effect of it by several unhapidea; but Mr. Barlow destroys py images, and finally by one of the meanest, which could be selected from the furniture and operations of the dairy-room. "Far sunk from day, It crumbles, rolls, it churns the settling sea, Turns up each prominence, 1, 289-291. The poet talks of 'pumping the pearly tear,' of tapping the redundant lakes,' &c. &c. Of the many passages, which have no meaning that we can discover, we cite several: "His eye bent forward, ardent and sublime, Seem'd piercing nature and evolving time;" B. iv. 1. 253, 254. "Like sires of unborn states they move sublime, Look empires thro' and span the breadth of time,-" 1. 429, 430. "All rights that Britons know they here transfuse, Their sense invigorate and expand their views, Dare every height of human soul to scan, Find, fathom, scope the moral breadth of Learn how his social powers may still di тап, late These passages, with some others which we shall cite presently, when examining the birth and history of the universe, will serve as sufficient specimens of the modern philosophical method of uttering nonsense. We ought in fairness to present our readers with some of the best passages of this elaborate poem; and we do so with pleasure. The following apostrophe to false glory is spirited and poetical; and, though the author might have improved it, we have reason to be pleased with it, on the whole. "Frazer in quest of glory seeks the field;False glare of glory, what hast thou to yield? How long, deluding phantom, wilt thou blind, Mislead, debase, unhumanize mankind? Bid the bold youth, his headlong sword who draws, Heed not the object nor inquire the The Hymn to Peace, which is enlarged, and altered for theworse from the Vision of Columbus, is still worthy of particular praise. "Hail, holy Peace, from thy sublime abode Mid circling saints that grace the throne of God. Before his arm around our embryon earth, Stretcht the dim void and gave to nature birth, Ere morning stars his glowing chambers hung, Or songs of gladness woke an angel's tongue, Veil'd in the splendors of his beamful mind, In blest repose thy placid form reclined, Lived in his life, his inward sapience caught, And traced and toned his universe of thought. Borne thro the expanse with his creating voice, Thy presence bade the unfolding worlds rejoice, Led forth the systems on their bright し "As the blest guardian guides to whom was given To light the suns and steer the stars of heaven, (When one great cosmogyre has proved their spheres, And time well taught them how to wind their years,) Shall meet in general council;" &c. &c. Mr. Barlow alludes to Moses, to 'the seer of Patmos,' to the arrival of a saint in heaven, to "departed shades," to Luther as an example of intrepid courage; but in all these instances, as in the passages above quoted. poetical embellishment is evidently the only object he has in view. He refers to the common ideas of God and heaven, because they are truly sublime; and, whenever he does so, he rises above himself. When he talks, however, as a philosopher, as a moral instructor of mankind, he explodes all religion whatever; but would tolerate the worship of the sun, as the best religion which has yet existed upon earth, and as, on the whole, a pleasing object. * The Eclectic Reviewers have said, that they could not tell what religion Hesper, or Mr. Barlow, was of; but we think our readers will have no great hesitation in saying, before we have done, that, whatever may have been the creed of Hesper, Mr. Barlow was of no religion. Before we enter upon this part of our plan, it will be well to advert to the professed and real object of the poet Had Mr. Barlow said nothing of his object, it would have been perfectly evident. He does not write like Southey, merely * Ec. Rev. for May 1810, p. 411. to please his readers with any fictions that present themselves to his imagination, and which please himself; he never loses the philosopher in the poet; he never forgets his system, the main principles of which are these: That the greatest good of man is political liberty;-that this liberty, under the direction of nature and sober sense, will finally banish from the earth all slavery, cruelty, oppression, injustice, and especially war;that man ought to seek his happiness in this life, and not trouble himself about a future state;— that all religion, (unless he would except the worship of the sun,) must have sprung from ignorance and delusion, from the silly fears of unenlightened men;-and that the march of man is toward a state of terrestrial perfection, when his life will be prolonged to a most extraordinary date by improvements in medicine, and he will be finally rescued from superstition, fear, and error. But Mr. B. has not left us to conjecture what his object is. He has stated to us, 'that the real object of the poem is to inculcate the love of rational liberty: to show that on the basis of the republican principle all good morals, as well as good gov. ernment and hopes of permanent peace must be founded.' He dwells upon the responsibility which rests upon a poet, as an instructor of mankind; and thinks that an ancient poem, which should have discouraged war, and inculcated peace and justice, a sort of pacific Iliad, would have performed wonders in the world, and renovated mankind. A year or two after the |