printing his sermons, and thus taking from
them the support of his oratory, we did ex-
pect to find in this volume much more to be
surprised at, than to be pleased with. In
this we mistook the matter altogether.
The style of this work is very peculiar,
and occasionally very bad; it savours of af-
fectation, which indeed stares upon us
from the title page, but its prevailing
characteristics are derived from the exces-
sive use of the Scotch idiom, and from his
passionate love for the earlier English writ-
ers, who have evidently influenced his
whole manner of thought and expression.
Much as we reverence the name of Tay-
lor, we are almost disposed to say, that Mr
Irving is not only nearer to him than any
living English writer, but so near, that it is
more just to call him a kindred spirit, than
an imitator. He occasionally writes in bad
taste, and uses words and figures carelessly,
and attempts, somewhat too often and too
obviously, a high strain of imaginative elo-
quence. On the other hand, his language
is generally perspicuous and forcible, his
ornaments and illustrations are used for the
sake of the argument, which is never turn-
ed aside to make room for them; and
though often exceedingly severe, he finds
fault with nothing that is good.

The most prominent and unpleasant fault
in this work, is the frequent huddling to-
gether of subjects which are as far apart as
heaven and earth. For instance, in one
part of his "Argument," he goes, with
scarcely the transition of a paragraph, from
a magnificent and sublime picture of the
Last Judgment, to a criticism of modern
poetry. This certainly arises, in great part,
from bad taste, but it probably originates
in a degree from Mr Irving's declared in-
tention of endeavouring to extend the uses
of religion, by connecting with it literature
and every thing else which men love or
busy themselves about. His principle is a
good one, and it may be that we find fault
with some instances of its operation, only
because we cannot free ourselves from the
influence of those thoughts or sentiments
which separate religion from that which
should make one with it, and, as it were,
exile her from her proper home. But with
all its faults, it must be acknowledged, that
this book abounds with specimens of splen-
did diction, and that every paragraph gives
proof of strong, bold, and original sagacity.
Mr Irving believes that the Bible is not
-"an Orphic song indeed,
Full of strange words, to a strange music chanted,"

but really true, and true in a sense in which nothing else is true; that it is among books as the Saviour was among men, and that we shall actually do a wise thing and behave with a provident regard to coming events, in striving to learn what this book says, and to govern our relations to each other, our judgments upon all the matters of life, and our conduct in all its concerns, by the directions herein contained. He seems to think it quite time that the world should be delivered from the rooted and universal error,—universal in its operation, if not in its acknowledgment,-that the study

of the Word is a duty distinct from all therefore, to have a chance of hearing, I have re-
other duties; that the principles it de-frained from systematic forms of speech, and en-
clares are excellently well adapted to cer- deavoured to speak of each subject in terms prop-
er to it, and to address each feeling in language that
tain parts of the business of life, but of dif- seemed most likely to move it-in short, to argue
ficult application or doubtful expediency in like a man, not a theologian; like a Christian, not
others; and that, on the whole, it promul- a churchman."
gates a law, which should generally be held
In giving his book the strange title it
in good esteem, but may be safely disre- bears, Mr Irving was probably influenced
garded when it arrays itself against the es- somewhat by the wish to depart from the
tablished fashions of society, or demands the common path, and thus arrest the attention
abandonment of some cherished indulgence, by eccentricity, and somewhat by the rea-
or insists upon the dethronement of a favour-sons assigned in the preface, from which
ite and customary sin.
we have already quoted.

He supposes the nature and offices of re-
ligion to be utterly mistaken; that it is handling religious truth-the Oration, and the Ar-
"I have set the example of two new methods of
banished from daily domestic duties and gument; the one intended to be after the manner
constantly recurring exigencies, from the of the ancient Oration, the best vehicle for address-
occupations of business, the relations and ing the minds of men which the world hath seen,
intercourse of society, in all which it should far beyond the sermon, of which the very name
dwell as their sovereign and their life, other after the manner of the ancient Apologies,
hath learned to inspire drowsiness and tedium; the
from seasons of health and activity, when with this difference, that it is pleaded not before
the mind is clear to perceive and the frame any judicial bar, but before the tribunal of human
strong to execute its commandments, and thought and feeling. The former are but speci-
the homage that is paid, is a free-will offer- mens; the latter, though most imperfect, is intend-
ing,-to moments marked out for reluct-in the volume, because the Oracles of God, which
ed to be complete. The Orations are placed first
ant and melancholy worship, to casual they exalt, are the foundation of the Argument,
fragments of time when leisure can be which brings to reason and common feeling one of
spared for cold devotion, to hours given by the revelations which they contain.
way of bribe that the rest of life may go sion, and I deprecate it not; for it is the free agi-
"For criticism I have given most plentiful occa-
free, and to the visitations of suffering and tation of questions that brings the truth to light.
disease, when the heart is shuddering with It has also been my lot to have a good deal of it
fear, and the shadows of coming death darken where I could not meet it, and if I get a good deal
the intellect, and the whole soul is enslaved more I shall not grumble; for a book is the property
by dread and agony. If, indeed, every mo- of the public, to do with it what they like. The
ment of this fleeting and unreal existence author's care of it is finished when he hath given
it birth. The people are responsible for the rest.
create the destiny of abiding, yea, eternal have besought the guidance of the Almighty and
realities, and religion, or the want of it, his blessing very often, and have nothing to be-
determine whether this destiny shall be of seech of men, but that they would look to them-
joy or wretchedness;-surely each instant selves, and have mercy upon their own souls."
which passes by while we stop upon this
threshold of being, should bear witness that
religion existed in the whole conduct of the
man, as life in the healthy frame;-all full
and perfect in every part.

Mr Irving seems to propose not only the
amendment of his lay audience, but the
stirring up of his clerical brethren. He
says, in his preface,

"Until the servants and ministers of the living
God do pass the limits of pulpit theology and pul-
pit exhortation, and take weapons in their hand,
gathered out of every region in which the life of
man or his faculties are interested, they shall never
have religion triumph and domineer in a country
and her eternity of freely-bestowed wellbeing."
as beseemeth her high original. her native majesty,

In the dedication of the second part of
this volume, he says,

"For it seems to me that upon religion we are growing wiser than our fathers, who were content with a train of human authorities, and that this age requireth religious truth to be justified, like other truth, by showing its benefits to the mind itself, and to society at large. *** For their ear is shut, and I hope the car of all men is for ever shut, to the authority of names; and it is vain now to quote the opinions of saints or reformers, or councils or assemblies, in support of any truth. They even hold cheap our venerable theological language, though it can boast of great antiquity, and they insist upon its being translated into common phrases, that they may understand its meaning. And the misery is, they will not listen unless we gratify them in this reasonable request, but allow us to have our disputations to ourselves while we cover them with that venerable disguise. In order,

I

The subjects of the Orations are, First, The preparation for consulting the oracles of God.

Second,-The manner of consulting them. Third and Fourth,-The obedience due to them.

The purpose of the Argument is, to show plainly the certainty and the reasonableness of man's accountability, and its exact conformity not only with the whole course and character of human pursuits, relations, and institutions, but also with the absolute and universal necessity of created beings ;and further, to claim for the whole subject of God's reckoning with man its rightful dignity; to rescue it from idle, aimless speculation and the vain phantasies of imagination, from the blasphemy of those who scorn it, and the unmingled horrors which the thoughts of many gather around it, and make it stand forth, a certain and solemn circumstance, which must occur to every individual, and which every one would do well to make adequate provision for.

He discusses the subjects, which fairly come before him, with great power and boldness;-telling many plain truths and attacking many influential and favourite opinions. We cannot make extracts enough to give an adequate idea of his course of argument, but will quote some passages, which may suffice to show the character of his thoughts and expressions. They are from the second Oration.

"The more ignorant sort of men, who entertain by erecting the platform of our being upon the new religion by a kind of hereditary reverence, as they condition of probation, different from that of all do any other custom, take up the Word of God at known existences. Was it ever heard that the sun stated seasons, and afflict their spirits with the task stopped in his path, but it was God that commandof perusing it, and, to judge from a vacant face, ed? Was it ever heard that the sea forgot her and an unawakened tone, and a facility of endur- instability, and stood apart in walled steadfastness, ing interruption, it is often as truly inflicted upon but it was God that commanded? Or that fire forthe soul as ever penance was upon the flesh of a got to consume, but at the voice of God? Even so miserable monk. Or, upon another occasion, when man should seek his Maker's word, as he loveth his one beholds mirth and jocularity at once go dumb wellbeing, or, like the unfallen creatures of God, for an act of worship, and revive again with fresh as he loveth his very being-and labour in his obeglee when the act is over, one cannot help believ-dience, without knowing or wishing to know aught ing that it hath been task-work with many, if not beyond. with all. Holding of the same superstition is the practice of drawing to the Word in sickness, affliction, and approaching dissolution, as if a charm against the present evil, or an invocation of the future good." ***

"For studying his will, it is of no importance save to perform it in the face of all opposition from within and from without; therefore, of all seasons, sickness, and affliction-when we are disabled from action, and in part also from thought-is, it seems to me, the season least proper for the perusal of the Word. If it cannot overmaster us when we are clothed in all our strength, then it is a poor victory to overcome us when disease hath already prostrated our better faculties. Then chiefly to take concern about the name and the word of God, is a symptom of our weakness, not of our devo

tion.

"From this extreme of narrow and enforced attendance upon the word of God, there are many who run into the other extreme of constant consultation, and cannot pass an evening together in conversation or enjoyment of any kind, but call for the Bible and the exposition of its truths by an able hand. That it becomes a family night and morning to peruse the word-and that it becomes men to assemble themselves together to hear it expounded-is a truth; while at the same time it is no less a truth, that it is a monkish custom, and a most ignorant slavery, to undervalue all intellectual, moral, or refreshing converse, for the purpose of hearing some favourite of the priesthood set forth his knowledge or his experience, though it be upon a holy subject. ***

"Necessity, therefore, I say, strong and eternal necessity is that, which joins the link between the creature and the Creator, and makes man incumbent to the voice of God. *** "That which I have sketched of the soul's necessities needeth something more than to rake the Scriptures for a few opinions, which, by what authority I know not, they have exalted with the proud name of the doctrines: as if all scripture were not profitable for doctrine. Masterful men, or the masterful current of opinion, hath ploughed with the word of God, and the fruit has been to inveigle the mind into the exclusive admiration of some few truths, which being planted in the belief, and sacrificed to in all religious expositions and discourses, have become popular idols, which frown heresy and excommunication upon all who dare stand for the unadulterated, uncurtailed testimony. Such shibboleths every age hath been trained to mouth; and it is as much as one's religious character is worth, to think that the doctrinal shibboleths of the present day may not include the whole contents and capacity of the written Word. But, truly, there are higher fears than the fear even of the religious world; and greater loss than the loss of religious fame. Therefore, craving indulgence of you to hear us to an end, and asking the credit of good intention upon what you have already heard, we summon your whole unconstrained man to the engagement of reading the Word;-not to authenticate a meagre outline of opinions elsewhere derived, but to prove and purify all the sentiments which bind the confederations of life; to prove and purify all the feelings which instigate the ac"Yet though thus we protest against the formali- tions of life; many to annihilate; many to imty and deadness of such a custom, we are not pre-plant; all to regulate and reform;-to bridle the pared to condemn it, if it proceed from a pure tongue till its words come forth in unison with the thirst after divine teaching. If in private we have word of God, and to people the whole soul with a still stronger relish for it than in the company of the population of new thoughts, which that Word our friends--if in silent study we love its lessons reveals of God and man-of the present and the no less than from the lips of our favourite pastor- future. These doctrines, truly, should be like the then let the custom have free course, and let the mighty rivers which fertilize our island, whose Word be studied whenever we have opportunity, waters, before escaping to the sea, have found and whenever we can go to it with a common con- their way to the roots of each several flower, and plant, and stately tree, and covered the face of the land with beauty and with fertility-spreading plenty for the enjoyment of man and beast. So ought these great doctrines of the grace of God in Christ, and the help of God in the Spirit, and fallen man's need of both-to carry health and vitality to the whole soul and surface of christian life. But it hath appeared to us, that, most unlike such wide-spreading streams of fertility, they are often, as it were, confined within rocky channels of intolerance and disputation, where they hold noisy "Duty, in truth, is the very lowest conception of brawl with every impediment, draining off the natof it-privilege is a higher-honour a higher, hap-ural juices of the soul; and, instead of fruits and piness and delight a higher still. But duty may be suspended by more pressing duty-privilege may be foregone, and honour forgot, and the sense of happiness grow dull; but this of listening to His voice who plants the sense of duty, bestows privilege, honour, and happiness, and our every other faculty, is before all these, and is equalled by nothing but the stubbornest necessity. We should hear His voice as the sun and stars do in their courses, as the restful element of earth doth in its settled habitation. His voice is our law, which it is sacrilege, worse than rebellion, worse than parental rebellion, to disobey. He keeps the bands of our being together. His voice is the charter of our existence, which being disobeyed, we should run to annihilation, as our great father would have done, had not God in mercy given us a second chance,

sent.

"Against these two methods of communing with the word of God, whereof the one springs from the religious timidity of the world, the other from the religious timidity of Christians; the one a penance, the other a weakness; we have little fear of carrying your judgments: but you will be alarmed when we carry our censure against the common spirit, of dealing with it as a duty. Not but that it is a duty to peruse the word of God, but that it is something infinitely higher.

**

graces, leaving all behind naked, barren, and un-
peopled! ***

nothing if not conjoined with the utterances of a christian spirit, and the evidences of a renewed life. *** To look suspicious upon those who are attracted to the sacred page by its gracious pictures of the divine goodness, and love it with a simple answer of affection to its affectionate sayings, or a simple answer of hope to its abundant promisesto undervalue those who feed their souls with its spiritual psalmody, or direct their life by its weighty proverbs, reckoning an authority and grace of God to reside in every portion of it-to suspect those who live on devotion, on acknowledgments of Providence, and imitation of Christ, because they cannot couch their simple faith and feeling in technical and theological phrase, but sink dumb when the high points of faith are handled-all thesethe baneful effects of holding so much acquaintance with formularies of doctrine, and so little with the Word itself-so much acquaintance with the religious spirit of the age and country, and so little with the spirit of God,--argue a narrow form of religion, and an uncharitableness of spirit, from which we pray God to deliver all who pertain to the household of faith! ***

"Why, in modern times, do we not take from the Word that sublimity of design and gigantic strength of purpose which made all things bend before the saints, whose praise is in the Word and the church of God? Why have the written secrets of the Eternal become less moving than the fictions of fancy, or the periodical works of the day; and their impressiveness died away into the imbecility of a tale that hath been often told? Not because man's spirit hath become more weak. Was there ever an age in which it was more patient of research, or restless after improvement? Not because the Spirit of God hath become backward in his help, or the Word divested of its truth--but because we treat it not as the all-accomplished wisdom of God--the righteous setting works of men along side of it, or masters over itthe world altogether apostatizing from it unto folly. We come to meditate it, like armed men to consult of peace-our whole mind occupied with insurrectionary interests; we suffer no captivity of its truth. Faith, which should brood with expanded wings over the whole heavenly legend, imbibing its entire spirit-what hath it become? a name to conjure up theories and hypotheses upon. Duty likewise hath fallen into a few formalities of abstaining from amusements, and keeping up severitiesinstead of denoting a soul girt with all its powers for its Maker's will. Religion also, a set of opinions and party distinctions separated from high endowments, and herding with cheap popular accomplishments-a mere serving-maid of every-day life; instead of being the mistress of all earthly, and the preceptress of all heavenly, sentiments-and the very queen of all high gifts and graces and perfections in every walk of life!"

Reliques of Ancient English Poetry; consisting of old Heroic Ballads, Songs, and other Pieces of our Earlier Poets, together with some few of later date. First American from the fifth London edition. Philadelphia, 1823. 3 vols. 8vo.

66

[Continued from the last number.] The Scriptures are not read for the higher ends IT would, in England, seem almost an act of teaching the soul practical wisdom, and over- of presumption to attempt, at this late pecoming the practical errors of all her faculties, of riod, to criticise a work so long known and all her judgments, and of all her ways. Then the so well established in its reputation as Word, which is diversified for men of all gifts, Percy's Reliques." This however is the cometh to be prized chiefly as a treasure of intellectual truth, elements of religious dogmatism-first American edition, and many of our often an armoury of religious warfare. Then our readers are probably in our own situationspirits become intolerant of all who find in the Bi- now presented, for the first time, with a ble any tenets differing from our own, as if they book of which they have heard much. It had made an invasion upon the integrity of our is at length within their reach, and if the faith, and were plotting the downfall of religion notice which we have taken of it, induce a itself. Then an accurate statement of opinion from the pulpit, from the lips of childhood, from the few to examine it with minds free from predeath-bed of age, becomes all in all; whereas it is judice, we shall think that we have con

22

ferred a favour upon the literature of our country.

It is not a work which will captivate on a first, or perhaps even a second reading; but it will win its way. It has no dazzling beauties to strike at the first sight; but its unadorned simplicity must sooner or later produce its effect.

judge.

"Will ye gae to Ew-Bughts, Marion,
And wear in the sheip with me?
The sun shines sweit, my Marion,
But nae half sae sweit as thee.

Among the modern poets who have caught their inspiration from old ballads we forgot to mention Burns. It is well known that the spark which kindled his genius was a song, that has never been printed-one of those which for ages have been current in Scotland, in the memories and on the lips of its highly poetical peoIt is beautifully and justly remarked by ple. Burns continued through life to love Addison, that "An ordinary song or ballad, these songs, and his last years and almost that is the delight of the common people his last hours were spent in remodelling cannot fail to please all such readers as are them, and suiting them to the ears of his not unqualified for the entertainment by cotemporaries, whose taste had in a great their affectation or their ignorance; and measure been reformed by his exertions. the reason is plain, because the same paint- On directing our attention more particu ings of nature which recommend it to the larly to the Scottish ballads in Percy's Colmost ordinary reader, will appear beautiful lection, we lighted upon the original of to the most refined." Spectator, No. LXX. "Ew-Bughts Marion," long a popular song It is not only to the lovers of poetry, in Scotland; and found its first stanza the that we think this will be an interesting source of some exquisite lines of Burns, publication. Some of the ballads are very which have dwelt on our memory from the ancient. The first in the second volume first moment of our reading them; but is "A ballad made by one of the adher- which have lost much of their effect upon ents to Simon de Monfort, Earl of Leices- us by a comparison with the quiet simplicter, soon after the battle of Lewes, which ity of their original. Our readers shall was fought May 14th, 1264." The manuscript from which it was copied is supposed to be as ancient as the time of Richard II. Another ballad is called "The Turnament of Tottenham, or the wooing, winning, and wedding of Tibbe, the Reeve's daughter there," and is supposed to have been written at least as early as the time of Edward III. Judging from the sameness of the versification and general style, we should think it nearly coeval with the former. There is almost an unbroken series of ballads from these down to the time of Elizabeth, and we regret that they are not arranged in chronological order. There are likewise Scottish ballads of different ages. many Those, therefore, who delight in philological studies, and inquiries into the history of languages, will find the work interesting for the assistance it will afford them in tracing the progress of our native tongue. And here we will make one observation, which struck us forcibly even in our first hasty glances over the volumes; namely, that the more ancient writers, both English and Scottish, wrote in a language more resembling modern English in its idioms, than that used by Chaucer and some of his immediate followers. We may pursue this subject further in a subsequent number. At present we give one extract from the ballad on the battle of Lewes, to show that the melody of which our language is susceptible was known before the days of Pope or Waller. We use, as far as possible, the modern orthography.

"By God that is aboven us, he did much sin,
That let passen over sea, the Earl of Warynne ;
He hath robbed England, the moors and the fens,
The gold and the silver, and y-boren hence,

For love of Windsòre," &c.

"The Turnament of Tottenham" is a fine specimen of what the British critics call "genuine old English humour;"-the author must have been a fine wag-the Washington Irving of his day. Its length prevents us from inserting it entire, and no extract would do it justice.

Will ye gae to the Indies, my Mary,
And leave old Scotia's shore?
Will ye gae to the Indies, my Mary,
Across the Atlantic's roar?

Oh sweet grow the vine and the olive,
And the apple on the pine,
But aw the charms of the Indies,
Can never equal thine."

There is in the same ballad something of
that delightful humour, which has so often
charmed us in the works of Burns.

"O Marion's a bonny lass,

And the blyth blinks in her ee:
And fain would I marry Marion,
Gin Marion would marry me."

"There's braw lads in Earnslaw, Marion,
Quha gape and glower wi' their ee
At kirk, when they see my Marion,
But nane of them lu'es lik me."

**

"Ime yong and stout, my Marion,
Nane dance like me on the greine;
And gin ye forsak me, Marion,
Ise e'en draw up wi' Jeane."

We have room but for one other extract,
and we select the following song, for its
singular wildness of imagery and melody of
versification. The very homeliness of some
of its conceits renders them more agreeable
to our taste, than the far-fetched pretti-
nesses of Moore.

"Over the mountains,
And over the waves,
Under the fountains,
And under the graves:
Under floods that are deepest,
Which Neptune obey;
Over rocks that are steepest,
Love will find out the way.

Where there is no place
For the glowworm to lie;
Where there is no space
For receipt of a fly;

Where the midge dares not venture,
Lest herself fast she lay;
If love come, he will enter,
And soon find out his way.
You may esteem him
A child for his might;
Or you may deem him
A coward from his flight;
But if she, whom love doth honour,
Be concealed from the day,
Set a thousand guards upon her
Love will find out the way.

Some think to close him
By having him confined,-
Some do suppose him,
Poor thing, to be blind;

But if ne'er so close ye wall him
Do the best that you may,
Blind love, if so you call him,
Will find out the way.

You may train the eagle
To stoop to your fist;
Or you may inveigle
The Phoenix of the East;
The lioness, ye may move her
To give o'er her prey;

But you'll ne'er stop a lover;
He will find out his way.

We are unwilling to extend this notice further, and can only say in conclusion, that we consider "Percy's Reliques" to be an established classic in our language,—a work to be studied,-a book which ought to be in the hands of every candidate for poetical fame; and that, without being thoroughly imbued with its spirit, no Engligh poet can be considered as a master of

MR HOGG, the poet, has become Mr Hogg, the novelist, and he is quite as good in this latter vocation as in the former. He has written much; and when one recollects the early habits and occupations of his life, it is surprising that he has written so much, so well. We have never thought his poetry of the very highest order, though there are passages in all his poems, which indicate a good deal of various poetical talent. The

Pilgrims of the Sun," which we think his best production, is an original and peculiar work. Something of grossness taints the beauty of Mr Hogg's conceptions and language in every thing else which he has written. But in this poem, perhaps because the subject,-Death and the Life after it,-purified his mind, and relieved his imagination from its burthen of vulgarity, every thought and word is pure; chaste, and innocent, as an infant's dream.

These tales are in no way didactic, though the author would fain persuade us that they were intended to be so. He calls them the three "Perils of Woman," and puts at the beginning and end of them a sort of notice of what they should teach, by way of guide-board to their moral. The first portrays the miseries and dangers of "Love." But unluckily for the moral, all

returns in full force, and Cherry gives
him up to her cousin, whom he marries
straightway; and not long after, Cherry,
who is throughout a most interesting though
perfectly impossible character, dies in a
rapid decline. M'Ion alone knows and
understands her illness, and foresees her
death, which the following extract de
scribes.

they coloured with a momentary hue of the beryl,

in the soul's last embrace with the heart.
'Now, with that kind kiss, have you loosed my
bond with mortality-Do you love me still?"
"The Almighty knows how I love you, dear,
dear, and dying sufferer!' cried he, through an
agony of sobs and tears.

est,' said she; and laying her head on his bosom,
Then my last feeling of mortal life is the sweet-
she breathed a few low, inarticulate sounds as of
prayer,and again sunk asleep to awaken no more.

the suffering and distress recorded, and him. But before the marriage, Agatha's | exclaimed he; and taking her on his bosom, he there is an abundant supply of it,-arises attachment is discovered; M'Ion's love impressed a long and burning kiss on her lips, as from an unnecessary and therefore foolish endeavour to repress and conceal an early attachment. The Heroine, or rather Heroine No. 1, (for there is another) falls in love, and determines to conquer her passion if she can, and at all events to keep it to herself; out of this determination comes utter wretchedness to all concerned, particularly to Heroine No. 2, who indulges and confesses her affection without reserve, and would have been made thereby very happy but for the wayward conduct of her cousin, No. 1. Of course, if a young lady could learn any thing from this tale, it would be to avoid all manner of resistance and disguise, when love befalls her, which is just what Mr Hogg did not mean to teach, and just what (according to the prevalent notions of the world) few ladies have occasion to learn.

The second tale is intended as a warning against "Leasing" (which is Scotch, for lying, in a small way) and "Jealousy;" two faults, says the author, to which the fairer part of creation is exceedingly prone. But in this tale, which is yet more a tale of misery than the first, all the "leasing" of the prima donna only gives her a husband of a rank far above her own, and of a character much better than she deserved; and as to her jealousy, unfortunate and unfounded in fact as it was, if she had not a right to be jealous, no circumstances can give such a right. We suppose the truth to be, that the stories were intended to be, as they are, interesting and amusing tales, and the thought of calling them moral tales, came

afterwards.

Mr Hogg asserts distinctly, that both of his stories are not only founded on fact, but vary very little from the actual truth; the incidents being exactly related, and many of the names retained. We should almost be sorry to believe this, for more intense or more extraordinary suffering than that which all the principal characters are made to endure, can hardly be imagined. With all the pathos of such stories, Mr Hogg has contrived to mingle a great deal of humour. There is more laughter-stirring fun in them, especially in the latter, than in any other of his works; sometimes his jokes are rather vulgar, and generally they incline towards coarseness, but they are always natural and hearty.

that M'Ion entered. He had been ruminating in
"It was during this period of calm relaxation
the garden, when the servant came hastily and de-
livered his mother's message; and knowing that
she was in attendance in Cherry's room, he went
straight thither. The alarm that he testified on
viewing the condition of the sweet slumberer, ap-
peared to them both matter of surprise. To his
lady, in particular, it seemed unaccountably mis-
timed; and she could not help smiling at his per-
turbation. He held a downy feather to her lips-
her breath moved its fibres, but could not heave it

keeping a steadfast eye on her face, and ever and
from its place. He felt her pulse long and gentle,
anon his heart throbbed as it would have mounted
from its place.

'What do you mean, Diarmid?' whispered Gat-
ty, in some alarm; It is nothing but a sleep, and
as peaceful a one as I ever beheld.'

Yes, my love, I know it is a sleep; but I pray you retire, and do it softly, for there is more depends upon her awakening out of such a sleep, than you are aware of.'

If there is any danger whatever, I will wait with my cousin and you. Why should I leave

her?'

What does all this mean? cried Gatty, startment. Diarmid! Husband! I say, tell me the ing to her feet, and holding up her hands in amazemeaning of this."

'Be composed, my love! Be composed! The meaning is but too obvious. There fled the sweetest soul that ever held intercourse with humanity."

A Gazetteer of the State of New Hampshire, by John Farmer and Jacob B. Moore. Concord, 1823. pp. 276.

had produced one of the best maps that IT was to be expected, that a state which was ever published, would not long leave it unaccompanied with a Gazetteer. We have not had leisure to examine very particularly whether the work before us is entitled to rank with Carrigain's map; but it certainly possesses uncommon merit. The assistance of several professional gentlemen has rendered the work sufficiently scientific, and it contains a few engravings well executed, and a map, exhibiting all form. The typography is good, and the the townships in the state in their proper volume is cheap at the price marked, $1,25. In the descriptions of the several only what they are at present, but every towns and villages, the reader will find not them, and frequently an interesting notice important historical fact connected with of the most distinguished persons, who have resided there. In this manner a great deal of important information is given, and this to those, whom the work most concerns. arrangement will be peculiarly gratifying

The sublime and picturesque scenery which abounds in many parts of New Hampshire, has lately attracted much attention; and, at no distant period, a journey to the White Mountains will probably become as fashionable as it must ever be gratifying to all who love to look upon hills, and vales, and forests, and waters, clothed with beauty. No one will think of journeying that way in future without this Gazetteer. We are

caution, desiring her to go with all expedition, and
"He then took his mother's place with great
compound some cordial that he named; he also
motioned to Gatty to go with her, but she lingered
beside him, curious to see the issue of that slum-
had his left arm under the pale slumberer's head,
ber that so much discomposed her husband. He
ently counting, with the utmost anxiety, every
and with his right hand he held her arm, appar-
movement of her pulse, and having his eye still
fixed on her mild, relaxed features. Gatty sat
down at a distance, folded her arms, and watched
in silence. Mrs Johnson came into the room on
his eager eyes were fixed on one object alone.
tiptoe with the cordial; but M'Ion saw neither;
While in that interesting attitude, one of those
which a painter would choose, Cherry at once
opened her serene blue eyes, and fixed them with
a steady but hesitating gaze on the face of him she
loved above all the world. She awaked, as it
were, mechanically, without so much as a sigh, in
the same way that a flame or spark, which seems
quite extinct, will all at once glimmer up with a
radiance so bright, as to astonish the beholders.
His face was all sadness and despair, but hers
instantly beamed with a smile of joy, Am I here
already?' said she. What a blessed and happy
state this is, and how easily I have attained it!'
"With that she started-looked at her clothes-surprised that the author omitted a descrip-
at his-at all their faces with a hasty glance, and tion of one of the most interesting views,
am I here yet? It is well, though-it is well. Ah! scenery about a pond, called, as we believe,
then added, Already! No, I should have said, which the state affords. We refer to the
how fortunate it is, for if I had gone away without Baker's pond, in Orford, on the road from
this interview, I should have been compelled to Plymouth through Wentworth and Orford
return.' Then stretching out her hand, on one of to Hanover. If it now remains as we saw
the fingers of which there was a ruby ring, that he
had put on that day he pledged her his troth-she it in 1821, there are few spots more ro-
He could not answer her, for his bosom was burst-
pointed to it, and said, See, do you know this?'mantic and beautiful.
ing with anguish. And these simple robes-do
you know these?-Why, you cannot answer me;
but I know you do. Now, do you remember that
on that day I returned you your faith and troth,
and released you from your rash pledge of honour,

We will give our readers one extract from the first tale; and to make it intelligible, must first tell a little of the story. Agatha Bell, the daughter of a wealthy farmer on the borders, fails in love with M'Ion, a young Highland nobleman; but not being so certain as she wishes to be of a return to her affection, entirely conceals it. M'Ion, who loves her passionately, thinks, from her conduct, that she has an aversion to him, and endeavours to conquer his attachment. After a while he determines to marry Cherubina, the cousin of Agatha and almost a child; chiefly out of gratitude for the devoted love and unre-but one? I crave it now.' served confidence she manifests towards

that I said, I should never ask another kiss of you

This is more than human heart can support,'

Belzoni in Egypt; Fruits of Enterprise

exemplified in the Travels of Belzoni in Egypt and Nubia. 18mo. Boston, 1824, THIS is one of the most interesting works, pp. 248. which has been presented to our children;

Tancred, or the rightful Heir of Rochdale Castle. A Drama, in three acts, &c. By Gardner R. Lillibridge. Providence, 1824. 18mo. pp. 68.

THE word Drama, is thus defined by Mr Walker: "a poem accommodated to action; a poem in which the action is not related but represented; a play; a comedy; a tragedy." Now it is clear, that Mr Walker was entirely ignorant of the true meaning of the word, or that Mr Gardner R. Lillibridge has grossly erred in denominating his maiden production. Far be it from us to impute so heinous a charge to this dramatic gentleman; on the contrary, we must let the Orthoëpist "bear the brunt of this offence;" though at the same time we will render him the justice to say, that not he alone, but all the lexicographers of the English language might in vain have puzzled their brains to invent a suitable generic title for this "singularly wild and original" absurdity.