"The more ignorant sort of men, who entertain by erecting the platform of our being upon the new nothing if not conjoined with the utterances of a religion by a kind of hereditary reverence, as they condition of probation, different from that of all christian spirit, and the evidences of a renewed do any other custom, take up the Word of God at known existences. Was it ever heard that the sun life. *** To look suspicious upon those who are stated seasons, and afflict their spirits with the task stopped in his path, but it was God that command-attracted to the sacred page by its gracious pictures of perusing it, and, to judge from a vacant face, ed? Was it ever heard that the sea forgot her of the divine goodness, and love it with a simple and an unawakened tone, and a facility of endur- instability, and stood apart in walled steadfastness, answer of affection to its affectionate sayings, or a ing interruption, it is often as truly inflicted upon but was God that commanded? Or that fire for- simple answer of hope to its abundant promisesthe soul as ever penance was upon the flesh of a got to consume, but at the voice of God? Even so to undervalue those who feed their souls with its miserable monk. Or, upon another occasion, when man should seek his Maker's word, as he loveth his spiritual psalmody, or direct their life by its weighone beholds mirth and jocularity at once go dumb wellbeing, or, like the unfallen creatures of God, ty proverbs, reckoning an authority and grace of for an act of worship, and revive again with fresh as he loveth his very being-and labour in his obe- God to reside in every portion of it-to suspect glee when the act is over, one cannot help believ-dience, without knowing or wishing to know aught those who live on devotion, on acknowledgments of ing that it hath been task-work with many, if not beyond. Providence, and imitation of Christ, because they with all. Holding of the same superstition is the cannot couch their simple faith and feeling in techpractice of drawing to the Word in sickness, afflicnical and theological phrase, but sink dumb when tion, and approaching dissolution, as if a charm the high points of faith are handled--all theseagainst the present evil, or an invocation of the the baneful effects of holding so much acquaintance future good." *** 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! "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. *** '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 it-the 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!" 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 [Continued from the last number.] suspended by more pressing duty-privilege may be foregone, and honour forgot, and the sense of The Scriptures are not read for the higher ends IT would, in England, seem almost an act happiness grow dull; but this of listening to His of teaching the soul practical wisdom, and over- of presumption to attempt, at this late pevoice who plants the sense of duty, bestows privi- coming the practical errors of all her faculties, of riod, to criticise a work so long known and lege, honour, and happiness, and our every other all her judgments, and of all her ways. Then the so well established in its reputation as faculty, is before all these, and is equalled by noth-Word, which is diversified for men of all gifts, ing but the stubbornest necessity. We should hear cometh to be prized chiefly as a treasure of intel-first American edition, and many of our Percy's Reliques." This however is the His voice as the sun and stars do in their courses, lectual truth, elements of religious dogmatism— as the restful element of earth doth in its settled often an armoury of religious warfare. Then our habitation. His voice is our law, which it is sacri- spirits become intolerant of all who find in the Bilege, worse than rebellion, worse than parental re- ble any tenets differing from our own, as if they bellion, to disobey. He keeps the bands of our had made an invasion upon the integrity of our being together. His voice is the charter of our faith, and were plotting the downfall of religion existence, which being disobeyed, we should run itself. Then an accurate statement of opinion to annihilation, as our great father would have done, from the pulpit, from the lips of childhood, from the had not God in mercy given us a second chance, death-bed of age, becomes all in all; whereas it is sent. 44 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- 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. readers are probably in our own situation— now presented, for the first time, with a book of which they have heard much. It is at length within their reach, and if the notice which we have taken of it, induce a few to examine it with minds free from prejudice, we shall think that we have con 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, 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 particuings 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 many Scottish ballads of different ages. 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 Windsore," &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, Oh sweet grow the vine and the olive, There is in the same ballad something of charmed us in the works of Burns. that delightful humour, which has so often "O Marion's a bonny lass, And the blyth blinks in her ee: **** 44 "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, 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 prettinesses of Moore. "Over the mountains, Under floods that are deepest, Where the midge dares not venture, You may esteem him Some think to close him But if ne'er so close ye wall him, You may train the eagle But you'll ne'er stop a lover; The Three Perils of Woman; or Love, Leasing, and Jealousy. A series of Domestic Scottish Tales. By James Hogg, author of "The Three Perils of Man,' "Queen's Wake," &c. &c. In two volumes. 12mo. New York, 1823. 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 concep tions 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 I 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 the suffering and distress recorded,-and him. But before the marriage, Agatha's 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 keeping a steadfast eye on her face, and ever and What do you mean, Diarmid?' whispered Gat- 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?' "He then took his mother's place with great caution, desiring her to go with all expedition, and 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 slumber that so much discomposed her husband. He had his left arm under the pale slumberer's head, and with his right hand he held her arm, apparently counting, with the utmost anxiety, every 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 tiptoe with the cordial; but M'Ion saw neither; in silence. Mrs Johnson came into the room on his eager eyes were fixed on one object alone. 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!" exclaimed he; and taking her on his bosom, he The Almighty knows how I love you, dear, dear, and dying sufferer!' cried he, through an agony of sobs and tears. Then my last feeling of mortal life is the sweetest,' said she; and laying her head on his bosom, she breathed a few low, inarticulate sounds as of prayer,and again sunk asleep to awaken no more. 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 the townships in the state in their proper form. The typography is good, and the volume is cheap at the price marked, $1,25. In the descriptions of the several towns and villages, the reader will find not only what they are at present, but every important historical fact connected with them, and frequently an interesting notice of the most distinguished persons, who have resided there. In this manner a great deal arrangement will be peculiarly gratifying of important information is given, and this to those, whom the work most concerns. 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 We will give our readers one extract "With that she started-looked at her clothes surprised that the author omitted a descripfrom the first tale; and to make it intelli- at his-at all their faces with a hasty glance, and tion of one of the most interesting views, gible, must first tell a little of the story 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 Agatha Bell, the daughter of a wealthy how fortunate it is, for if I had gone away without Baker's pond, in Orford, on the road from farmer on the borders, falls in love with this interview, I should have been compelled to Plymouth through Wentworth and Orford M'Ion, a young Highland nobleman; but return.' Then stretching out her hand, on one of not being so certain as she wishes to be of the fingers of which there was a ruby ring, that he to Hanover. If it now remains as we saw a return to her affection, entirely conceals had put on that day he pledged her his troth-sheit in 1821, there are few spots more roit. M'Ion, who loves her passionately, He could not answer her, for his bosom was burstpointed to it, and said, See, do you know this?' mantic and beautiful. thinks, from her conduct, that she has an ing with anguish. And these simple robes-do aversion to him, and endeavours to con- you know these?-Why, you cannot answer me; quer his attachment. After a while he de- but I know you do. Now, do you remember that termines to marry Cherubina, the cousin on that day I returned you your faith and troth, of Agatha and almost a child; chiefly out that I said, I should never ask another kiss of you and released you from your rash pledge of honour, of gratitude for the devoted love and unre-but one? I crave it now.' served confidence she manifests towards 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, pp. 248. THIS is one of the most interesting works, which has been presented to our children: Mrs Wakefield seems to have been well portant facts relati are given in the wo perspicuous and ple are accompanied wit respecting the prin those most concern writer thus expresse design of the work: and the information which it contains, is domestic animals. The man who heard Letters to a Child o given in a manner calculated to produce a another say that he had seen two bears time Discovery. E good moral effect. A dialogue between fighting in the woods, and asked which of York, 1821. 12mo a mother and her children, gives an ac- them beat, expressed only an ordinary de- WHEN children ha count of Belzoni's labors and conquests, gree of curiosity. If we well understood knowledge of the el a description of the countries which he why these anecdotes are so pleasing to us, is an interesting and traversed, the discoveries which he made, we might be able to make them subservient learn something of the character and customs of the inhab-to some very important purpose; and even phy; and this is nece itants, with such historical and other facts, without such metaphysical knowledge, they the history of navi as illustrate the several subjects. Through need not serve as a mere matter of amusethe whole work the motto-"Labor omnia ment. vincit"-is kept in view, and the power of industry is very happily illustrated and en- aware of this fact, and has contrived very forced. Those who may purchase this skilfully to promote several moral purposes book for their children, will not only grat- by connecting them with this subject. The ify them, and give them a kind of knowl- most natural of these is humanity to aniedge which is not otherwise easily obtain-mals; and perhaps no more effectual method ed, but furnish them with strong incite- could be devised. Another general prinments to industry and perseverance. The ciple, which she contrives to inculcate in terms made use of in the various descrip- connexion with her anecdotes, is the identions are so well explained, that children tity of happiness with usefulness. This is who can read easily, must be old enough to done with much ingenuity, and yet great understand them; and there are few per- simplicity. The whole work consists of a sons of any age, to whom it would not be correspondence between two young ladies. instructive. The engravings are well ex- Caroline was, by misfortune, reduced to the ecuted and add much to its value. necessity of retiring from London to an obscure town in Wales. Here she found a home in a most worthy family; but every thing presented a painful contrast to her former mode of life. She was not long deprived of her amusements, without looking about for something to do; and her aunt supplied her with such work, as she could be readily taught to perform. She gradually became interested in the useful avocations of the family, and learned, like her associates to seek for happiness in doing good. Although we have made these liberal concessions with regard to the moral character of the work, it must not pass unnoticed that the morality which characterizes it, is not altogether that which should be taught in a book intended for instruction. It does not sufficiently recognise religion as the essential principle. We know not what a christian can have to do with morals separate from religion, and if a book directly inculcates the one, it should also inculcate the other. Do we derive our motives for a moral life, from the world, or from heaven? If from heaven, why not acknowledge it, and teach our children to derive theirs continually from the same source? It is hardly sufficient to show them that industry and discretion will secure the good things of this life, and perform wonders, and earn a recompense and honour which will make the heart glad. All this may be exceedingly good, but it also may be infidel rant, unless every action is estimated and judged by a reference to religious truth. We might extend these remarks to a great proportion of the moral works designed for young persons; and parents who are disposed to give their children principles of action, that will bear every test to which the exigencies and various relations of life expose them, will hardly wish them to make any effort or sacrifice, solely from such motives as are presented in these works. Her attention was naturally excited by the modes of life and the usefulness of domestic animals. This was all new; and, like the rest of mankind, she soon learned to desire a knowledge of every remarkable fact concerning them. Much pains was taken to gratify this curiosity; and these anecdotes became a principal topic in her letters to Emily, her former associate. She also keeps in view her progress in a useful life; and the two subjects are so combined, that they mutually add to the interest of her letters. Emily in return makes the most of the subject; and contrives to supply her share of well authenticated anecdotes. From this sketch of the plan of this little work, every reader must be prepared to approve it. Its whole moral character is very amiable and judicious Indeed, we can scarcely place our children in better company than Mrs Wakefield. We do not much relish her fondness for comparing instinct with reason, and leaving the reader to infer that men are but a more sagacious sort of brutes. But she finds what are thought very high authorities for this, and we must leave her and them to correct their error, when an improved state of the "It was chiefly my wi a child to the steps by geography has been atta of practical instruction, a in the hands of a wise cannot help hoping that made the first step to a able reading. Since it h our lot at a time when a course between brethren carrying on, it is surely child's mind a feeling of the concerns of that larg it is born; and is not thi portance as the attempt to the darkness of past a the lives and actions of tiquity? In tracing the really perceive that we doms of the earth, the improvement. The mo real good of our fellow-c more we feel that it wa Providence that they sho It is sufficient praise has presented these t gious views through of the great personag describes, did not pre tinguishing their vic and if a child is dis globe, and learn su recorded; a safer pil and judicious compan Tancred, or the righ Castle. A Drama, Gardner R. Lilli 1824. 18mo. pp. 68 THE word Drama, is Walker: "a poem tion; a poem in wh related but represent a tragedy." Now Walker was entirely meaning of the word, R. Lillibridge has gro nating his maiden prod us to impute so heir dramatic gentleman; must let the Orthoëpi on the subject of Mari By Emily Taylor. New 0. pp. 322 ave acquired a goo ements of geography, i d profitable exercise b the history of geogr essarily connected wit gation. The most in ing to these subject ork before us in a very asing style; and they th biographical remark ncipal discoveries and ned with them. The es, in her preface, the wish to call the attention which our knowledged ined. This opens a sou as well as of interest; and and judicious instructer, my little volume mayb Course of much more val mas pleased Heaven to a great and general inter of all parts of the earth is Fight, early to incite in nterest and fellowship i e community into whic - of at least as much in o carry its thoughts bad ges, and to interest it i he boasted heroes of a ogress of geography, re travelling in a roadd - we know of the king more our desires for t eatures expand, and the the intention of Divi ld thus be enlarged." to say that the auth uly amiable and reb the work. The fam es, whose actions sh rent her carefully d es from their virtue posed to traverse the ch facts as are he t or a more pleasan on cannot be chose ful Heir of Rochd in three acts, &c. B ridge. Providenc thus defined by ccommodated to a ich the action is n d; a play; a comedy t is clear, that M ignorant of the tr or that Mr Gardne ssly erred in denom iction. Far be it fro pus a charge to this on the contrary, t "bear the brunt d at the same time m stice to say, that no lexicographers of the it in vain have pa vent a suitable get Fularly wild and orig "Since non expect not, for castle. That blood-thirsty m life; nay, frow threats I hold i Thy rancorous what honor a make me blush would have fal as the great ca seat. Then fr wilt take that 1 of thine own, n suppose it shall no; for thos flinch at every at the certain f thou implemen informs my sou It has been our peculiar good fortune all I've a tale to tell which will make thy to peruse most of the specimens of dra- young blood run chill through their veins. matic genius, which have issued from the But as we despair of telling this tale half American press, from the "Capture of as well as Mr Adams, and trust that our Burgoyne," down to the "Hero of Chip-readers have already taken an intense pewa," and we think we may fearlessly interest in it, we transcribe it. assert that not one of them can in any de"You must know, that about four years before gree compare with "Tancred, or the Right- you made your appearance on this busy stage of 'twas I, the sa ful Heir to Rochdale Castle." We sin- action, my mind led me to take a stroll on the cerely congratulate Mr Lillibridge upon skirts of the Rochdale Forest. I had left off the work of the day at an earlier period than usual.*** having produced so efficient an answer to By giving my silver call a blow, old Ponto, rugged the sneers of the Edinburgh, and the asper- with age, left his kennel and ran on before me, sions of the Quarterly Reviews. The wagging his tail, for I never went abroad without question will no longer be asked, "Who his company.***The long, dismal, rumbling roar of reads an American tragedy?" but rather, the falls between the Terrible and Bloody Peaks, "Who has not read Tancred, a drama?" burst upon my listening ear.***Still onward we went, until the intermingled yells of some unknown It were invidious, perhaps, to compare, Mr animals set on end every hair in my head. I stop-innocent Lillibridge with any of our puny American ped. I imagined that to proceed would be enterauthors, for he may boldly challenge com- ing upon the brink of death. It was impossible to petition with the master spirits of the Eng-return-the dog arrested me. I resolved, at lish drama. Like Byron, disregarding the all events, to find the cause of this mysterious constale and hackneyed use of mere flesh and Forest.-All was darkness.-My dog appeared to blood dramatis personæ, he daringly enters stop.-The groan of an infant caught my ear. the world of spirits and shows himself hand I found it! alas, with but little life remaining, and glove with ghosts and ghostesses of the bound fast to a tree. With but one stroke of my most extraordinary character. It is not sword I liberated the helpless little victim. "Rachel. [Screams.] Oh, Heavens !-You kill'd often in these degenerate days, that we are the child, how couldfavoured with such good substantial appari-Fitz Adams. No, no, I cut every particle of tions; and they are not only numerous, but chord and rope in twain. Kill the child, indeed! assorted with great regard to effect, inso- Where can you borrow such base imaginations much that their absence would be a serious from. But to proceed-I again sought the footloss to this highly fanciful and imaginative I hurried onward, when again the horrid yell of path with the child in my arms. Having found it, production. In imitation of the tragedies wild animals rung in my ears. I drew my sword, of Maturin (we trust that Mr Lillibridge by which time two monstrous wolves rushed upon will not mistake this for the "merest insin- us." uation of the charge of plagiarism,"-we have "no such stuff in our thoughts"), his drama is rife with barons, baronesses, and banditti, so disposed and grouped together as to produce a result rarely equalled and never surpassed. Like Shiel-but it is not by comparison that we expect to convey any adequate idea of the all unutterable merits of this incomparable drama, and therefore without farther preface will introduce it to our readers, by endeavouring to give a faint sketch of its story, &c.; but at the same time, we wish it to be clearly understood that we do not vouch for the correctness of the detail; not feeling exactly certain of having succeeded in our attempt to unravel the complicated mysteries of its plot. "Silence, sla lain dares to sacred persons highest tree, th instant execut passing carrion We fores future comm words. If we they a little R. Lillibridg posing that which Mrs N ess, carrion in search of enough to ea our hero are appearance principal gho dale," who, convincing, feels firmly strong family Tancred and Tancred is n the said Gho dale, and the is the RIGHT and he thu covery. After supper, by way of dessert, Tancred is brought in to receive his deserts, and to answer to the charge of having committed an assault upon the person of Baron Murcia, with intent to rob; and one Lawrence enacts the part of justice, and having arraigned the criminal, expatiates pretty largely upon the crime of highway robbery; to which our hero, who pleads his own case, answers in a most pithy and pertinent speech. "But recollect, my faithful friend, that our hands have already been imbrued in the blood of Rochdale and Rothsay. The first, I confess most frankly, was the effect of youthful fire and discreet "A love. Forced on me by the commands of a debut an object of my indifference; an object which musick, tog termined parent. the Baron Rochdale was at first cred] "kn the presence of the Baron Rothsay soon converted voices," [it into a bitter hatred; though not the fountain head solemnity of of homicide, still we acted as the leading springs." sight of the as they prov voices.] T Rochdale ri Tancred"that he does speech from addresses hi ed him" however, th twitting hin spoke of. G a |