186 
useful matter, and concludes with the 
following remark, no less favourable to 
the heart than to the understanding of 
the author, 
, 
«* A prudent change of studies is indeed 
no less grateful and salutary to the intellec- 
tual, than a change of air or exercise to the 
animal part of our nature. When the mind 
is exhausted with long application to scien- 
tific or abstruse subjects, she ‘may often 
find relief in the lighter and more agreeable 
departments of learning, may expitiate in 
the interesting field of history, or wander in 
the flowery paths of poesy; or, if relaxed or 
seattered, for want of regular exertion, she 
may apply herself to mathematical, or even 
to metaphysical enquiries ; just as, in regard 
to the body, it may be proper to climb the 
hill or to repose in the valley, according to 
the laxity or tension of tlre animal system. 
«« But, however judicious may be his 
lan for an interchange of studies, there will 
> frequent intervals when a wise man will 
quit his books and his speculations, in order 
to discharge the duties, and to share the in- 
nocent pleasures, of ordinary life; when, 
instead of passing from Locke or Newton to 
Homer or Virgil, to Thucydides or Livy, he 
will retive alike from philosophers, poets, 
and historians, to visita neighbour, to en- 
joy the cheerful conversation of his own fire- 
side, or, with an infantine spirit, to divert 
himself with his children. Non semper ar- 
cum tendit Apollo. Man was formed for so- 
cial intercourse, as well as for solitary con- 
templation ; and when these ends are pur- 
sued sin. a due manner, they contribute to 
their mutual advancement.” ’ 
The pleasures of devotional retirement 
are next pointed out; from which Mr. 
B. passes ‘to the fourth part of his trea- 
tise, which is intended to obviate a com- 
THEOLOGY AND ECCLESIASTICAL AFFAIRS. 
mon objection against a life of retires 
ment, namely, that it destroys or dimis 
nishes usefulness. He fairly contrasts 
the utility of a public and of a private 
life; and is thus naturally led to the 
subject of monasteries. Persuaded, as 
he is, that these institutions were detri- 
mental to religion, he yet laments that 
they were so indiscriminately destroyed, 
«« Especially as they might have been con- 
verted to the advantage of the tender sex, 
who, for want of such retreats, are many of 
them turned adrift into the wide world, 
without a guide, and without asylum; and 
it is to be lamented, that, while the papists 
are industriously planting nunneries, and 
other societies of religious, in this country, 
some good protestants are not so far excited 
to imitate their example, as to form esta- 
blishments for the education and protection 
of young women of serious dispositions, or. 
who are oxherwise unproyided, where they 
might enjoy at least a temporary refuge, be 
instructed in the principles of true religion, 
and in all such useful and domestic arts as 
might prepare and qualify those who were 
inclined to return into the world, for a pious 
and laudable discharge of the duties of 
common life. Thus might the comfort and 
welfare of many helpless individuals be pro- 
moted, to the great benefit. of society at 
large; and the interests of popery, by im- 
proving upon its own methods, be consider+ 
ably counteracted.” , 
The volume concludes with some ex- 
cellent remarks upon the choice of life, 
After this review of its important con- 
tents, our readers will be prepared to 
acknowledge that it merits the most ear, 
nest recommendation, to those particu- 
larly who are placed in the retirement, 
in favour of which it is composed. 
Arr. LIX. A Supplement to a Picture of Christian Philosophy ; or Instructions viarnak, 
theoligical, and philosophical, for the Culture and the Practice of Benevolence. By 
Roperr Fettowes, 4. M. 8vo. 
IN this. little treatise, the author 
traces the origin of the beneyolent affec- 
tions to. a_very early period of life ;, to 
that which is passed upon the lap and at 
the breast of the mother! “ ‘There is 
fixed,’ he observes, “* in our hearts, 
when we come into the world, a latent 
spark of good-will to others; and this 
is commonly excited into its first activity, 
by the sensations of ‘pleasure which we 
experience at our mother’s breast.” He 
considers benevolence as being of two 
kinds :—the passive feeling—and the ac- 
tive habit; on the due mixture of which 
genuine benevolence depends. ' If the 
former prevails—no benevolent exertions 
pp. 54. 
can be expected ; “ for we may culti- 
vate sensibility so far as to be too feeble 
to perform the duties of active charity.” 
One observation upon this subject is 
worthy of ‘the regard 
novel reader. 
«© The reading of novels, particularly 
those of the more impassioned kind, acts, in 
some measure, on the affections, as strong 
liquors do on the stomach ; and both, in the 
end, diminish the natural strength and sanity 
of the individual. And it happens in novel- 
readitig as well as in dram-drinking, that a 
degree of excitement higher than the last is 
perpetually Justed after; till the nerves be- 
come languid and dying by excess of stimu- 
lus.—The grief of Niobe ended in her being 
eet 
of the modern’ 
_—4 
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