358 
suing sentence, would not be worth notic- 
ing, if it were not that the sentence itself 
presents a curious specimen of that inex- 
plicable structure and arrangement, into 
which the critical “‘ operosity” of Mr. Oliver 
would grammaticize our “ many-tongued 
Inglish.” 
** Puerile it is, yet utile it seems: but it is tono 
great purpose, that the systems of sages are simplified, 
and methodised to the purposes of juvenile instruc- 
tion when those systems, radically objectionable, 
are pedantick, and vague in hypothesis, to be philoso- 
phical, imperfect, and incongruous in abridgment, 
to be popular.” 
Is this a sentence? ora fortuitous jumble 
of words, points and all, thrown out, hap- 
hazard, from a dice-box? Really we sus- 
pect that we could almost as soon learn to 
understand the Arabic, or the Sanscrit, as 
My. Oliver’s Inglish. And yet he tells that 
«© He writes for children much, but for men, and 
critics more; he writes to instruct childhood, to, cor- 
rect manhood, to elucidate criticism: to the two 
latter he principally devotes his labours, as to his 
judges, and his patrons.” 
Thus far 
‘© with difficulty and labour hard” 
we have waded on, 
** with difficulty and labour we,” 
to the commencement of the twelfth page 
of Mr. O.’s preface. Can it be the wish 
of our readers that we should proceed any 
further ? Can it be expected that we should 
toil through 400 pages of such a chaos of 
unword-like jargon—this boggy syrtis of 
disorganised syllables—this crude consis- 
tency of neither sea, nor air, nor good dry 
land? Really, we see not to what pur- 
pose : for, most assuredly, we have no am- 
bition to be ranked among either the “ cri- 
tics, men, or children,” who patronize Mr. 
Oliver’s “‘ novel and extensive system’ for 
the critical emendation of our grammar and 
speech ; and should expect from his _la- 
bours rather “a Babelonish dialect,”’ than 
an improved version of the native perspi- 
cuity, energy and euphony of which our 
present English language, in so many glo- 
rious instances, has been proved suscepti- 
ble, both in prose and verse. We do not, 
however, mean to deny, that in what we 
have read, we haye, now and then, caught 
an obscure glimpse of ideas that might 
have been useful, if they had been intelli- 
gibly expressed. 
Origines; or Remarks an the Origin of 
several Empires, States, and Cities. By the 
Right Hon. Sir W. Draummonp. 2 vols. 
8vo.—This is a work of considerable learn- 
ing and research ; and, need we add, the 
subject considered, of a good deal of con- 
jectural speculation. It might have been 
as well, perhaps, if the author had not sug- 
gested, to the reflecting reader, that there 
might be something, also, of the bias of 
system. 
*« There is not a sentence in this work,” says he, 
(pref. p. vi.) ‘‘ as far as I am aware, and as my in- 
tentions have led me, which can. give the slightest 
offence to the strictest theologian.” 
Monthly Review of Literature, 
| May 1, 
And what if there had been ?—what if 
Sir W. Drummond, in his researches into 
the truth of “the origin of some ancient 
oriental nations,”’ had stumbled upon some 
facts, or been encountered by logical induc- 
tions which might have been offensive to 
some strict theologian, would he have sup- 
pressed, would he have disguised or per- 
verted them? In other words, is histori- 
cal truth, or theological complacency, the 
object of his lucubrations ? If the latter, a 
fig for his origins! We follow the hounds, 
indeed, that we may catch the hare; but 
we follow not the cry of historical inquiry, 
in order that we may catch a system. The 
value of a work of this description must 
essentially depend upon the singleness of 
its object. It must look straight-forward 
to the truth, and to the truth alone: it 
must have no side views to inferences and 
conjectural consequences. Not that we 
mean to assert that Sir W. D.’s inquiries 
have been sophisticated by such considera- 
tions; we only remind him that he has 
given his readers some ground of suspicion 
in this respect. 
In another part of his preface, we so en- 
tirely agree with the author, that we might 
almost, in our utilitarian pages, leave him 
to be his own reviewer. 
** T have determined to print this book, because I 
flatter myself with the hopes that it may meet with 
the approbation of men of letters, who are engaged 
in pursuits similar to my own; not because I expect 
it to excite any attention beyond the closet of the 
antiquary.” 
Certainly in this respect Sir W. D. is 
right. The general reader is not likely to 
be very much interested in the inquiry 
(See p. 59, &c.) whether the 17th day of 
the second month, specified in the Book of 
Genesis, refers. to tbe month Tar of the old, 
or the month Marshesvan of the new He- 
brew Calendar? or whether Berosus, in 
his account of the deluge, ought to haye 
dated its commencement on the 9th of 
November, anno mundi—the Lord knows 
when, or on the 9th of May? We mean 
not, however, to throw any censure upon 
these profound triflings of erudition—these 
elaborate butterfly-huntings in the waste 
regions of antiquity. They are but the in- 
tellectual toys of the abstract and studious, 
it is true: but studious abstraction must 
have its toys as well as sportive infancy ; 
and the boasted regions of science would 
be miserably contracted in their bounds, if 
every field of inquiry were interdicted, 
whose principal utilities did not consist in 
something more than the pleasure, or the 
proud satisfaction of the intensity with 
which it must be explored and cultivated. 
John Bull in America, or the New Mun- 
chausen. 12mo.—We have seldom been 
more amused than by the perusal of this 
spirited little volume ; which is ascribed to 
the pen of Mr. Paulding, one of the best of 
the Ameriean novelists. As may be in- 
ferred from the title, it abounds with the 
marvellous - 
