application of the higher geometry to numerous practical details, in which we are now obliged to rely upon tact, or upon the judgment. The cause of this is to be found in the fact, that the acquirement of a familiar acquaintance with these abstruse sciences, is almost incompatible with that devotion to the practice of the useful arts, by which alone the improveable parts of machines, and the works of the engineer and architect can be perceived. It rarely happens, moreover, that any individual combines talents for the higher mathematical pursuits, with a taste for the practice of the useful arts. The reluctance of Archimedes to engage in the practice of mechanics, was not so much characteristic of an individual as of a class. A person thoroughly imbued with the calculus, delights most in applying it to forces in the abstract; to follow motions unimpeded by friction and other inconstant and uncertain disturbances. The noise and smoke of a mill do not correspond with the beauty which he perceives in the vibrations of an infinitely dense point, or the smooth course of the planets. It is true, however, that there have been, particularly of late years, amongst practical men, some of respectable mathematical attainments; and a great number whose knowledge of physical science has been of a high order.

Before dismissing this subject, we cannot refrain from adverting for one moment, to the wonderful things which have been accomplished in the arts by a simple observance of accidental appearances, or by some surprising effort of the inventive powers, unenlightened by science. The public buildings of Europe, particularly the cathedrals, furnish us with remarkable instances of arches and spires, in which science indeed may point out some defects of proportion, but can teach no way of excelling in the grandeur of appearance or durability of construction. Yet these structures, involving the principles of geometry in some of their most important applications, were built by men who, probably, possessed no resources but in their own experience and powers of combination. Many machines, most complicate in their action and perfect in their effect, though constructed in recent times, were produced by the efforts of natural endowments without the particular aid of the schools. Such are most of the machines for spinning, the stocking and lace frames; and we believe we may add that wonderful little moveable labyrinth, the gasmeter, the most ingenious invention of the last twenty years. The chemical arts furnish a great number of

substances, of great usefulness, by means which could not have been preconcerted from a knowledge of the properties or laws on which their production depends, because they were made before these properties and laws were understood. Many of them, as steel, and some of the alloys and metallic oxides, might no doubt have been fallen upon by chance while their discoverers were in pursuit of some other object; as Columbus fell upon a new world while searching for a particular country in the old. Some of the acids and salts, however, are obtained by such obscure and complicated processes, that it is difficult to conceive in what way they were hit upon. An example of this kind is found in the manufacture of the pigment called white lead, or ceruse, as it is conducted in the old process, which, it may be observed, modern chemistry has not yet been able to supplant. The preparation of alcohol from almost every vegetable of which sugar forms a part, and that by people wholly ignorant of its composition, by savages even, must likewise be attributed either to chance or to a wonderful natural sagacity. The accidental formation of prussian blue, is another remarkable instance of a gift bestowed upon the arts in a way that no ingenuity, however enlightened by science, at least in its present state, would probably have discovered. We ought not, however, on seeing how much has been done by chance, by observation, and by unenlightened genius, to underrate the value of science, but to persevere in its cultivation as a power by which the dominion of man over nature may be carried altogether beyond its present limits.

ART. IV.-The Life of Belisarius. By LORD MAHON. London. John Murray. 1829. 8vo. pp. 473.

W E presume that Lord Mahon, when he wrote this book, little expected that in a year or two, a new chapter would be so nearly added to the history of Constantinople, the scene of his hero's glory. But we confess, that to us, it gives an interest to his work, which, though correct and faithful, it would not otherwise possess. For every one is now anxious to know the history of this great palace cf the ancient and modern world, which in the lapse of ages passed from the hands of free Greeks to those of degenerate Romans, was assaulted by the Bulgarians, who now

rest so quietly under its power, and defended by Belisarius; was threatened by Persians, Saracens, and Russians, in succession; subdued by crusaders, and governed by adventurers with the imperial name; recovered by the Greeks, and menaced by the Moguls, and has now been for nearly four centuries the capital of the Turkish empire. If we may infer from ancient medals, that the crescent moon was the device of ancient Byzantium as well as modern Constantinople, we must acknowledge that this planet, though it has by no means been waxing all the while, is most prophetically descriptive of the changes of this fated city, the central point of so many great revolutions in human affairs.

Lord Mahon has on this occasion entered the lists with Gibbon; a name which the lovers of history must honor, notwithstanding his enmity to Christianity. It would be idle to deny the value of his work, more particularly as the blows of his flail seem to have alighted on his own head. He has been more consulted, even on the subject of the christian history, than all other authorities put together; and perhaps it is well to learn, though from an enemy, how much reproach the follies and vices of Christians have brought upon the christian name. The faults of his style are great; among others that perpetual parenthesis, by which many most important events are thrown into his narrative by way of intimation. But this was partly owing to the vast and various character of his materials, which few hands could have subdued into anything like order. Often he reminds us of the march of a Roman emperor in his magnificent purple ; and this stateliness is not unpleasing in one who describes the destinies of the Eternal City. We do not mean that Lord Mahon challenges the correctness of this great master. His book is written with great industry, but without pretension. The question at issue between them is not one of fact but conjecture. It is true, his lordship supposes that Belisarius deserves a larger mention than the limits of Gibbon's history would allow; but most readers, we believe, would be satisfied without a full-length portrait, and will allow that the incidental notice of Gibbon is quite sufficient for one, who, though an able and successful soldier, did not differ in glory from many of the lesser lights of the world. He did not write his name on the whole front of the age in which he lived. His only praise was, that he rekindled for a time the dying glory of Rome, and put off a little longer her most righteous doom.

Where Lord Mahon differs from Gibbon, we do not think that he makes out a clear case against him. Gibbon treats the story of the blindness and beggary of Belisarius as a mere fiction, for what appears to us a substantial reason, that, although Belisarius died in the sixth century, this story is not mentioned till the twelfth, and then by an authority of no consideration. To this Lord Mahon replies, that such traditions are not likely to be invented. In this we differ from him. He produces, however, a nameless authority, a little earlier than the one discredited by Gibbon, but without anything to show how much it is entitled to respect. To us it seems that the silence of six centuries demands a well attested reply. There is no force whatever in the argument which Lord Mahon builds on the character of Justinian, maintaining that he would not be likely to restore Belisarius after his disgrace. But there was nothing in the emperor's character more remarkable than his capricious weakness. On the whole we think that the biographer of Belisarius must surrender the interest arising from this romantic tale. We must not omit to mention the servility with which the hero humbled himself before the emperor; the weakness with which he yielded to his abandoned wife, and his seeming, or at least silent consent to the persecution of his son. On the other hand, he may borrow almost any measure of palliation from the character of those times, which were at least as corrupt as any in the history of

man.

We hope it will not be out of place to say a few words on the subject of true greatness, of which Belisarius, according to the moral sentiment of the world, would pass for a shining example. It should be mentioned, however, that much of the interest attached to his name, is owing to the statue in the Villa Borghese, to the well known picture of Vandyck, prints of which are so common, and perhaps more than all to the romance of Marmontel.

The decision of our faith on the subject of greatness is conveyed in a few impressive words. When the disciples were contending which should be the greatest, their Master said, "Whoever would be chief among you, let him be your servant. Now by servant,' we understand one who performs a service for another in hope of a reward; and as to his being 'chief,' we understand it as referring to a future life, where they that have been humble on earth shall be exalted, and the proud brought low. But this is a wretched limitation of its meaning. To us

these words seem to be meant as a definition of true glory. Their meaning spreads and deepens beneath our view, and instead of applying to a single relation of human life, they are found to be a guide to human greatness, and a measure for human applause. They show that the things commonly supposed to be high, are not so in reality; and in this new dialect of Christianity, to be respectable means to be useful, and they that are of most service to others, are actually the chief among men.

We have no doubt that the time will come when usefulness will be the measure of glory, and the amount of energy spent in the service of others, will form the only efficient claim to the admiration of enlightened minds. But now, this matter is but poorly understood. In the common walks of life, men seem ambitious to reach that state where they can be most idle and useless; and they are so weak and blind as to reverence those who injure and destroy them, more than those who endeavour to do them good. To serve others, is counted hardship, humiliation, and self-denial, and men profess to submit to it in the hope of a future reward; but in reality, to serve others is honorable; to do good, though in humble ways, is honorable, and the greatest among men are those who labor with the greatest powers and the warmest self-devotion in the service of their fellow men.

The doctrine of Christianity on this subject, is that of sense and reason, but it is not the one that prevails in the world. To be able to command the services of others, and render nothing in return; to be able to sit in state, and see others tremble; to be able to let all the faculties of body and mind rest in lazy luxury; to have a right to cumber the ground by a useless existence, is the exalted condition which has inspired most human ambition. And this idle and false impression sprang from savage life. Man, in his wild and unimproving, and therefore his unnatural state, abhors activity of body or mind. Nothing but hunger, necessity, or overpowering passion can rouse the savage to exertion, and when the excitement is over he rejoices to subside to rest. This, as might be expected, is still the feeling of the uncultivated among civilized men. The savage state is that of war, and as we have inherited its taste for war, we have also borrowed from it our notions of greatness and glory.

Even the ancient prophets, when collecting their ideas of greatness to form the character of God, being obliged to give such representations as men could understand, encouraged and

VOL. VIII.-N. S. VOL. II. NO. 11.

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