parts with which that one must of necessity be in harmony were present at the same time. The languages cannot be considered as mere aggregates of words; each one is a system according to which the mind links thought to sound. Each one is, lastly, also animated by a principle of organic unity. As soon as a people or a human intelligence takes in elements of speech, it must necessarily link them together into a sort of unity, although it may do so involuntarily and without becoming clearly conscious of the process, and this because, simply, we cannot conceive of the possibility either of individual thinking or of mutual comprehension without the operation of a principle like this.* As each language constitutes on organic whole, so each is, secondly, possessed of its peculiar individual form. The effort of the mind to elevate articulate sound into an expression of thought operates in every language in a determinate, uniform, and constant manner. The ensemble of the homogeneous and permanent, considered in its connection and systematically represented, constitutes the form of a language. This form is the complete objective representation of the individual nisus by means of which each nation succeeds in making language the expression of its emotions and its thoughts. It can, therefore, be fully comprehended only in connection with the totality of a language, although it is no less active in each and even the minutest element of it. Commencing with the very alphabet, it manifests its regulating power through etymology until it reaches the subtlest niceties of syntax, and pervades the entire organism of the language as one of its most vital principles.t But the province of grammatical forms is not the only one demanding the attention of the linguist. There is a higher and profounder element in language, which, however difficult it may be of exact analysis, may yet become a subject of feeling and reflection. The Sanscrit, Greek, and Latin, for example, are closely allied to each other, and exhibit on many points a striking similarity of etymological and structural organization. Nevertheless, apart from even the differences of this organization, these languages are each of them possessed of a distinctive individual character. There is in the history of every language an era at which it may be said to have reached its maturity.of growth,, that is to say, at which its general form and structure are more or less complete. At Einleitung, pp. 73, 85, 107, 113, 189, 338. Werke, vol. ii., p. 240; vol. iii. pp. 243, 253. Kawi-Sprache, vol. ii., p. 220. † Einleitung, pp. 41-49.-Kawi-Sprache, vol. ii., p. 221. this point the activity of the nation rests from the production of the language itself, and passes on to the use of it. The people at large, the teachers of the people, the poets, historians, and, finally, the grammarians, now cultivate the language and employ it for their purposes. It is the peculiar manner in which this is done that gives rise to what we have just designated as its character. The phenomenon, however, links itself directly and intimately to the very nature of a language. The use of it produces, on the one hand, a feeling that there is something more than is directly expressed by it, and which, under its influence, the mind has to supply; and, on the other hand, the impulse to express, nevertheless, in suitable terms, whatever affects the mind. This feeling and this impulse, operating in conjunction, constitute the basis of the character of a language, which, to some extent, forms one of the primitive features of it, although it does not become distinctly developed until, as we have already said, it has become a more or less complete vehicle for thought. The character of a language manifests itself in a variety of ways. It may be observed in its etymological forms, in its manner of forming compounds, in the signification of its words, in its synonyms, and, lastly, in the laws which regulate the construction of its syntax. It appears, however, still more distinctly and completely in the two grand divisions of speech, in poetry and prose, in the culminating points of which language transcends its strict organic limits and passes into the domain of art. It is at this point that the philosophy of language meets on common ground with that of literature and history.* ART. III-1. English Humorists of the Eighteenth Century. By W. M. THACKERAY. New York : 1853. 2. Life and Works of Jonathan Swift. By SIR WALTER SCOTT. 3. Lives of the Poets. By SAMUEL JOHNSON. 4. Life of Joseph Addison. By MISS LUCY AIKIN. 5. Lectures on English Literature. By HENRY REED. 6. Biography of William Congreve. By LEIGH HUNT. THE reign of Queen Anne was one of the most splendid in the annals of literature. It was the age of Addison, Pope, Swift, Steele, Congreve, Bolingbroke, Prior, Gay; in whose writings may be found all that is elegant in style, delightful in poetry, brilliant in wit, charming in humor, and beautiful in description. It was in this Augustan age that literary men began to occupy the elevated position in the world which genius and talent should always secure: Addison was appointed commissioner of appeals, secretary to the lord-lieutenant of Ireland, lord of trade, and finally, under George I., one of the principal secretaries of state. Prior was gentleman of the bedchamber to King William, under-secretary of state, and ambassador to the court of France. Swift was the chief-counsellor and intimate friend of the ministers, Harley and Bolingbroke, and was raised to the dignity of dean of St. Patrick's. Steele was a commissioner of the stamp office, governor of the Royal Company of Comedians,' and commissioner of forfeited estates in Scotland. Congreve was commissioner for licensing hackney coaches, and officer in the custom-house, and secretary of Jamaica. Of all the writers that have charmed and instructed the world by their wit and genius, there is none whom we regard with such a warm, personal feeling as Addison. He was so gentle, so tender, so kind, so loving, and bore his honors so meekly, that we love the man while we admire the writer. So many gifted men write like angels and live like fiends; so many "Show us the steep and thorny way to heaven, Whilst, like puff'd and reckless libertines, Themselves the primrose path of dalliance tread." But Addison's pure and virtuous life was a true and beautiful illustration of the Christian morality which he taught in his writings. All praise is due to the man who had the moral courage to stand forth as the defender of virtue in a dissolute and impure age; who proved by his own delightful works that wit is not incompatible with decency, or humor with purity. Addison's writings give a negative answer to the interrogation of Shakespeare: "Where is that palace, whereinto, sometimes, Foul things intrude not?" For they are distinguished by a singular delicacy of sentiment and purity of language, when the contrary was the prevailing sin of the literature of his time. Addison looked upon mankind not with the devilish hatred of Swift, the sarcastic gaze of Pope, nor the laughing eyes of Steele, but with the sad, loving eyes of an angel who wept at, while He touches their he pitied, the follies and vices of men. wounds and weaknesses with the kind and gentle hand of a friend, not with the ferocity of Swift, who tears and racks and scourges them with the ingenuity of a fiend. Listen to Addison's sweet singing-how much love and reverence of the creature for the Creator does it not contain : "Soon as the evening shades prevail, The moon takes up the wondrous tale, The hand that made them is divine." Addison commenced his literary career by publishing several Latin poems, in imitation of Virgil, which were greatly admired at the proud seats of English learning— Oxford and Cambridge-but they are now seldom read. He next turned his attention to English poetry; he addressed some verses to King William, and published a translation of part of the fourth Georgic, which had the good fortune to attract the favorable notice of Dryden, who, at that time (1695), occupied, without a rival, the poetical throne of England. Encouraged by his success, Addison addressed a highly complimentary poem to the Lord-keeper Somers, and dedicated a Latin poem on the Peace of Ryswick to Montague, the chancellor of the exchequer. The whigs were anxious to enlist in their party the rising talent of the nation; a pen· sion of £300 a year was bestowed upon the young poet, and he was allowed to travel. Addison,spent four years on the continent. He remained a year in France, in order to perfect himself in the French language. Thence he passed to Italy, and lingered for months in those beautiful cities hallowed by religion, art, learning, genius, and song-Kome, Florence, Venice, Naples, Genoa. In 1701 his pension was stopped by the death of King William, and he was under the necessity of supporting himself. He became tutor to a young English traveller, with whom he journeyed through Switzer land and Germany, and, after passing a short time in Holland, returned to England in 1703. Addison was now in his thirty-second year, without a profession and without an income, and for several months this most accomplished gentleman and scholar was compelled to hide his poverty and distress in a garret. A brighter day, however, was soon to dawn upon the fortunes of the poet. Marlborough gained the splendid victory of Blenheim. A poet was wanted who could properly celebrate this great event. Godolphin, the lord-treasurer, did not know where to find such a poet. He applied to Addison's friend and former patron, Montague, now Lord Halifax, and Halifax recommended Addison. The needy poet was very glad of such an opportunity to improve his condition, and readily undertook the proposed task. He wrote The Campaign, and his fortune was made; he was immediately rewarded by being made commissioner of appeals, with the promise of greater favors. As a poet, Addison does not occupy a place in the first, or even in the second rank. Some of his poetical compositions, "The Campaign," for instance, contains fine passages and striking similes, and his poetry, like all his other writings, is pure and polished, but it wants vigor and fervor; it is too cold, too correctly classic; he loved the ancient poets too well, and imitated them too closely. Posterity has not bestowed upon his poetry the same meed of praise that it received during his life, and if he had written nothing but poems, the name of Addison would be scarcely remembered at the present day. Soon after "The Campaign" appeared, he published the Narrative of his Travels through Italy. Like that of all his writings, the style is easy and elegant, but the book is overloaded with quotations from the Roman poets, and crowded with allusions to classical fables unknown except to the learned few, and, therefore, uninteresting to the unlearned many. Addison was now rapidly mounting the ladder of fame and fortune. In 1708 the whigs obtained the entire control of the government, and Addison came in for a share of the spoils. He entered parliament, and in less than ten years became successively under secretary of state, chief secretary for Ireland, and secretary of state. In 1709, when he was in Ireland, an event occurred which was destined in the end to establish his reputation as one of the most delightful writers of all time. In the spring of this year Steele started the Tattler. The aim of the latter, in |