rather by the grandeur that she exhibited, and by the proofs she gave, that the passions that worked within her, and the calamities she suffered, were producing their effects on a lofty spirit. Even in those parts that required a display of tenderness, and of the habits, manners, and sympathies of domestic life, there were in Mrs. Siddons's acting too many circumstances that impressed the spectators frequently and deeply with the idea, that she was intended by nature to move in a higher circle,-far above the influence of the softer emotions. Her brother carried this disposition towards the substitution of grandeur and dignity, in the place of the free and unrestrained display of the passions, much further than Mrs. Siddons; and as his grandeur and dignity were more artificial than hers, and not supported and accompanied by the same natural or acquired talents, so there were not many characters in which he was able to carry the spectators completely out of themselves, and place them in the midst of the scenes that he was acting. But in characters that suited, not only his powers, but his peculiar temperament, and look, and action, he was inimitable: in the proud and haughty Roman, in whose breast the high honour of being a Roman, and the principled determination to raise Rome to the empire of the world, and to have his name handed down to the latest posterity, united with hers, left no place for thoughts of self, and threw far behind all regard to family and friends, his acting could not be surpassed: no actor before or since, at least on the British stage, could so completely give to his look, his gait, his tone, his actions, the character of a Roman at that period, when Rome was at her highest pitch of dignity. Cooke was an actor of a very different stamp from Mrs. Siddons or her brother: they owed much to art, though in Mrs. Siddons, art working on materials richly supplied by nature, was seldom obtrusive: but Cooke owed little to art. He possessed no grace or dignity: he was often coarse; he not unfrequently entertained an erroneous conception of the character; or, from want of power or attention, could not pourtray his conceptions, when they were just ; but where he did excel, his excellence was of the highest degree: a single expression of his countenance, the tone in which he uttered a single short sentence, or even the simple movement of his eye, often told more than other actors could tell in the whole course of a play. There are passages in his Richard which can never be forgotten by those who once witnessed them passages in which the tyrant of Shakespeare was brought into the full display of those qualities with which the bard has invested him. But though Cooke was grandest in his tragic characters, he was undoubtedly most perfect and uniformly happy in comedy, or rather in the two characters of Sir Archy M'Sarcasm and Sir Pertinax Mac Sycophant. The cool and cutting wit, and the shrewd sense of the former; the worldly wisdom, the pliancy of principle and conduct, and the overshooting and disappointed cunning of the latter, could not possibly have been exhibited with more truth, and more conformably to nature. Kean's acting is different from that of Mrs. Siddons, her brother, and and Cooke: it is said strongly to resemble that of Garrick, but we should suppose, that in many very important points there was little or no resemblance. The manner of Kean's acting, or rather the general and leading principle on which he seems to regulate it, is calculated to produce a very strik. ing effect; and probably contributed to give him a higher reputation when he first appeared, than he has subsequently been able to sustain. He possesses an uncommonly fine eye; but the other parts of his countenance are not naturally well calculated to the display of the passions; yet such is the command of features that he possesses, so rapidly and completely can he vary their expression; and so much does his eye assist him, when he thus exerts his power over his features, that, even when silent, all that passes within him is painted on his countenance. The flexibility of his tones (if the expression may be allowed) is as extraordinary as that of his features; and by that alone he might wonderfully increase the expression of his countenance. But, besides that, by varying the key and movement of his speech, he contrives to give to passages, or even a few words, a meaning, and an effect, and an importance, and connexion with the main business of the play, which never before was drawn from them. But these modes by which he has raised his reputation so high, are apt to degenerate into mannerism; and to be transferred by him from parts that require or admit of them, to parts where they are uncalled for or prejudicial. Where Kean fails, he fails egregiously: he possesses none of the redeeming qualities of Kemble; no polish, grace, or dignity: if we ever think of the actor, our admiration of Kean is gone: it is only when he deceives us completely, that he possesses any power over us. In the parts adapted to her talents, Miss O'Neil is unparalleled: but her talents do not embrace a wide range. They are best fitted for what may be called truly feminine characters; that is, for the display of those feelings that most widely and plainly discriminate the female from the male sex. The timid, helpless, unprotected female, full of mild and soft feelings, discharging those domestic duties which best become a female; exhibiting those domestic affections, which are her richest ornament, or suffering under those domestic afflictions which wound the female breast most deeply,-finds in Miss O'Neil an admirable representative; and when she calls for our sympathy, she trusts entirely to those means, which never fail in real life to excite it towards a female: her tears, and sobs-the plaintiveness of her voice-the eloquent appeal of her speaking countenance, the melancholy or wretchedness which she throws all around her, create in the audience a sympathy almost beyond endurance. The points of resemblance between poetry, dramatic literature, acting, and what are called the fine arts, are striking in the highest departments of poetry and dramatic literature, the great object is to exhibit character as formed or influenced by strong emotion: and it is the duty of an excellent actor to give to his countenances, tones, and actions every thing that can embody the conceptions of the dramatic poet. The painter and the sculptor, in the highest branches of those arts, must must embody on the canvass or the marble poetical conceptions; but from themselves alone must these conceptions arise: hence it appears that painting and sculpture in some degree require the joint powers of the poet and the dramatic actor. But these must range through a variety of displays of character; whereas the painter and the sculptor are necessarily confined to the display of it at one particular mo ment. Britain has never excelled in the fine arts; that is, in the highest departments of them, which absolutely demand the existence and application of high poetical talents. We cannot even bring ourselves to rank West among this class of painters; and if we except him, there is certainly no other British painter worthy of this distinction. Wilkie indeed is admirable in his line; but we should be disposed to draw the same distinction between his department in painting, and the real poetry of painting, as we did between works of invention and imagination. Wilkie fills his canvass with admirable representations of character, but not of character formed or modified by the more lofty or powerful emotions of the human breast: his are all charac ters of temper, or peculiar bumour or manners; they delight and amuse us, but they do not go deep into our thoughts or hearts. Very lately a statuary has arisen among us, who has had the good taste and the resolution to reject all the allegorical trappings of that art; and instead of telling his story, or endeavouring to excite emotion, by the personification of the passions, trusts entirely to his power of drawing out of the marble the expression that tells the story, indicates the passions, and calls them up in the breast of the spectator. To those who have seen the monument for the two children, now in the Cathedral of Lichfield, or the monument to Miss Jones of Hafod, we need not say that we allude to Mr. Chantrey. His genius, indeed, does not embrace the display of the grander and more turbulent passions but as a truly British sculptor, as a sculptor in whom the most precious characteristics of the British nation dwell in all their purity and vigour, as a sculptor capable of filling his narble with the poetry of domestic life, and the most endearing affections of the human heart,-Mr. Chantrey is unrivalled. CHAPTER [73] CHAPTER IX. State and Character of the Scientific Productions of the Present Age. TH HE national character is, from various causes, much less apparent in scientific productions than in works of literature: but even in the former, a shrewd and accurate observer may trace peculiarities akin, in some respect and degree, to such as abound in the latter. The scientific productions of the Italians,-not merely such as are confined to pure and abstract science, but those also that embrace what are called the mixed sciences, -are distinguished by that subtle thought and reasoning which is characteristic of the intellectual powers of this people. The scientific productions of the British are distinguished principally by profoundness, rather than by extension of view, or subtlety of thought and reasoning, and are generally directed to some obvious practical purpose or conclusion. In the French scientific productions may clearly be traced that vivacity and penetration, as well as that elegance of illustration and reasoning, which are their highest characteristics in literature as well as science. If the preceding remarks are true, they are sufficient to make out our proposition but, as we just observed, the national character shines forth less frequently, and with much less clearness in scientific than in literary productions. It is scarcely necessary even to hint at the causes of this, as they must be obvious been seen and admitted, that the utmost skill and the highest advances in the mathematical sciences could be of little or no avail in enabling the mind to arrive at the truth in political or moral science; the evidence, it was said, is of such a very different nature in these sciences, that he whose faculties are exercised to discover and follow it, in mathematics, will be utterly at a loss to discover and follow it in political or moral science. It was, however, contended, that the study of the mathematics was of the highest utility in sharpening the faculties of the mind,-not merely the power and habit of attention, but also the reasoning faculties. It is this last proposition that we are disposed to deny we admit that the power and habit of attention must be greatly exercised, and therefore improved, by the study of the mathematics; but we deny that any other of the faculties of the mind will be exercised, at least in in any considerable degree, and therefore we cannot see how they can be greatly improved by the study of the mathematics. It is generally held forth as one of the peculiar glories and advantages of the mathematics, that they take nothing for granted; and that every thing they assert is capable of the strictest demonstration. Now this very circumstance, in our opinion, disqualifies them from being of great utility to the improvement of the reasoning faculty. No person will contend, that the reasoning faculty is in the least called into exercise in assenting to the axioms of Euclid; they are self-evident. Let us then come to the first proposition: does not this depend upon the axioms, or upon what is equally self-evident, that is, upon the contradiction involved in the very supposition that this proposition is not true? But all the subsequent propositions depend on the axioms, postulates, and first proposition; or, in other words, the most abstruse propositions in the highest branches of the pure mathematics, depend on others less abstruse; and these again on others less abstruse, till we descend to the axioms and plainest problems of Euclid. And let it be remarked, that this dependance, or flowing of all the propositions from one small and single source, is not a dependance that requires our reasoning faculties to trace it, or that in the smallest degree is made out by those faculties. The mind is as passive in perceiving and assenting to the truth of the most abstruse problem, as it is in perceiving and assenting to the truth of the first axiom: the assent is involuntary; indeed demonstration can produce no other species of assent: if any doubts arise, they are quelled, not by weighing probabilities,-not by pointing out faulty reasoning in him who suggests them, but simply by recalling some or all of the previous problems on which the truth of that which is doubted rests. The study of the mathematics has very happily and aptly been compared to sailing in the trade winds: no skill, and but very little attention is required in the master or crew; the sails being set, the ship is borne forward in her proper course without their direction or assistance. There are no difficulties; there is no necessity to take down the sails-to tack, or to exert their nautical skill. So it is in mathematics: the mind is borne forward by the very nature of the study in which it is engaged: provided it understand, remember, and apply what is past, it cannot have the smallest difficulty in comprehending the highest branches of this department of science. Hence we see that there is scarcely any room for the display of the national character in the study of mathematics: of course the application of the mathematics to the other sciences, or mixed mathematics, as it is called, afford more room for this display. Since the time of Newton, Britain certainly has not retained the high rank she then possessed among the nations of Europe for mathematical science: and at present, her fame must rest rather on her advances and discoveries in Chemistry, than on those which she has made in the pure or mixed mathematics. Between the period when mathematics declined among us, and the time when chemistry began to assume the dignity of a science, Electricity seems to have occupied the scientific men of Britain. But though |