a school committee, consisting of the mayor and aldermen, ex officio, and one gentleman chosen annually by each ward. They are required by their own rules to examine the schools once a month, and, by a law of the state, once a year. But one objection can possibly be urged against any part of these institutions. Perhaps the system of animating the pupils into industry by the principle of emulation, and rewarding them by medals, cards, &c. of which the object is to distinguish them from their fellows, is carried too far. Emulation easily becomes envy, and it is obviously better to make the love of doing well the ruling principle of a boy's activity, rather than the love of doing better than I cannot This passage exhibits a striking instance of the blending of various images into one, and thus presenting a picture entirely new. Though Anacreon says of Cupid, Ρόδα παῖς ὁ τῆς Κυθήρης emptity." Whitehead was poet laureate. | loveliness, like a new creation. All new poetry was submitted to the judg- better exemplify my meaning, than by ment of Johnson's powerful but prosaic tracing to its possible originals the following intellect; Pope and Young were in full beautiful picture of Collins'. vogue,-Thompson was sneered at,-Gray Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round;— ridiculed,-Collins utterly neglected,-and, Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound,to crown the climax, the Reviewer of And he amid his frolic play, Goldsmith's Traveller "in sad and sober As if he would the charming air repay, earnest criticised it as a pamphlet in verse, Shook thousands odours from his dewy wings. on political economy." This state of things could not last; but it is with the literary taste of a nation, as with the natural taste of an individual; when it has been pampered with high-seasoned sauces till the appetite is jaded, it craves not nor relishes substantial food, and can only be restored by a course of the simplest diet. This book therefore seems to have been necessary to the English nation, before it could be prepared either to produce, or to receive and though Fairfax, in his translation of and relish such poets as Crabbe and Joan-Tasso, says of the angel Gabriel, na Baillie and Wordsworth and Southey; He shook his wings with rosy May-dews wet; poets, whose style, simple in artificial orna- and though Milton says of the angel Raphment, yet not utterly rejecting it, is the vehi- ael, cle of such poetry as would have been sufficient, had they only written, to have "Thus we have endeavoured to give a view of raised this age of English poetry to a fair the means, provided at the public expense, for the comparison with that of Elizabeth. yet the imagery of Collins does not appear gratuitous instruction of the children of all classes mention these four poets, because, perfect-the less original; for he has compounded it of the citizens of Boston. They are offered equally distinct as they are, from each other, from all the others, and taking something ly to all. The poorest inhabitant may have his the style of them all is less ornate than that from each, has produced a new image of children instructed from the age of four to seventeen, at schools, some of which are already equal, of most of their contemporaries, and seems his own. if not superior to any private schools in our coun- more deeply imbued with the colouring of try; and all of them may be so. an earlier and severer literature. another. We close this article with stating one fact; that the whole expenditure of Boston, city and county, for 1823, was $197,977.60, of which $48,611.10 were expended for the schools;-and we will add to this fact, the last paragraphs of this pamphlet, which state strongly, but truly, the effect of this liberality. "Indeed if a child be kept at a Primary School from four to seven, and then at one of the Grammar schools until nine, and from that time till sev enteen at the Latin and the English Classical school, there is no question but he will go through a more thorough and complete course of instruction, and in reality enjoy greater advantages than are provided at many of the respectable colleges in the Union." We It is not often that we are admitted to the workshop of genius, but we know that men of the most exalted powers must have materials to work upon; we know that writers must form their style both of language and thought upon the models of others. If the first essays of any of the living English poets were to be published, Reliques of Ancient English Poetry; con- I doubt not that we should find among them sisting of old Heroic Ballads, Songs, and many imitations of the ballads which Percy other pieces of our earlier poets, together has collected; indeed Scott and Southey with some few of later date. First Amer- and Byron have published their boyish ican from the fifth London edition. Phil-poems, and among them such imitations adelphia, 1823. 3 vols. 8vo. are found. These are not however servile MANY critics of the present day, acknowl- imitations, but are evidently the essays of edge that the superiority of Modern Eng-powerful intellects, trying their strength lish poetry over that of the age of Queen in short, low flutterings, and thus imping Anne, is mainly to be attributed to this their wings for a bolder flight. work. It may seem surprising, that a book It is not by direct imitation of one parso unpresuming in its appearance, as Per- ticular model that excellence can be atcy's Reliques of Ancient Poetry, should tained; but the course which these poets have helped to produce so wonderful a rev-pursued was that which has been taken by olution in the public taste, as has evidently all truly great writers-to imbibe the spirit occurred since the time of its publication. But the poetry and criticism of that day were at a very low ebb; Pope and Addison were gone; they had themselves been servile imitators, and the still more grovelling herd of their imitators, wrote as if smooth metre and ambitious ornaments alone constituted poetry; no matter how trite the thoughts, if the lines were exactly balanced, nor how prosaic the subject, if an epithet were crowded into each hemistich. He shook his plumes, that heavenly fragrance filled The circuit wide; Every great poet has founded a school; but as each succeeding copy lost something of the freshness of the original, at length the samness began to pall upon the reader's ear, until some youthful aspirant, warned by the utter failure of his last predecessor, perceived that he must cast his projected work in a new mould, and make a hazardous experiment to reform the public taste. Look at the History of Poetry ;the names of Homer and Virgil and Tasso long kept alive the hope that successive generations might be blest with a succession of Epics; but Milton's was the last Epic,* and he dared to wander so far from the beaten track, that his Hero cannot be named. Look next at the Romances ;they had their day, but they had become tiresome in the time of Chaucer, who called in the aid of Italian literature, and founded a new school having him for its master. Lydgate and Hawes and Gower wore out the style of Chaucer. Allegories and Madrigals were popular from the time of Spencer and Withers, down to the days of Henry More and Waller. Then indeed it was time to stop allegorizing in verse, when an elegant scholar like More, and one whom a competent judge (Southey) of those who had gone before them, to select the peculiar excellence of each great master of their art, to melt down and amalgamate their several beauties in the alembic of their own minds, and, out of all, produce one harmonious form of elegance that *We say the last Epic, because we conceive should ever thereafter be exclusively theirs. Voltaire's Henriade to be slumbering with BlackAs with their style, so with their subjects. more's Eliza and her brothers (whose numbers and They made their minds the storehouses of names are forgotten), Wilkie's Epigoniad, Cumberland's Calvary, Glover's Leonidas, Hole's Arbeautiful images, gathered from all quar-thur, Southey's Joan of Arc, and many more; ters-from nature and from books, and Пáve dua raûra tílvanı, xai üxeto noivòv és Whoever has the patience to examine brooded over them till they had analyzed Αδαν the Magazine poetry of that day, will find them, and combined and remoulded them that the only quality for which the popular into perfect form, and could produce them poetry was then remarkable, was what a to the world, apparently the work of their critic has well expressed in one word-own imaginations, and gleaming in virgin maker's workshop;" "All together they perished, and went to the trunkand because the narrative poems of the present day alike disclaim the laws and the name of Epic. Reginald Dalton. By the author of Valerius, and Adam Blair. 12mo. 2 vols. THIS work is altogether inferior to Valerius, his father. This novel is of very equal interest throughout, and almost any extracts would be fair specimens; but the living and moving picture of Oxford entertained us more than any other part of the book, and we present to our readers some of its principal features. "A very prosaic animal must he be, who for the of the GENIUS LOCI; and never was man or youth It is needless to pursue the history to our own times, seeing that none of the styles since Pope's can be said to be worn out, though Rogers has made that of Goldsmith a little too drawling. Neither do we think it necessary to trace the similar mutations which the poetry of France and Italy has undergone. We believe however from this hasty survey, that we may safely pronounce it to be a dangerous thing for a young man, who is ambitious of becoming a poet, to study his cotemporaries; he will be temption on either side-lofty poplars and elms ever ed to admire one more than another; this exclusive admiration will lead him to direct imitation of his favourite; and thus he will become the copyist of another's style, instead of being (according to the first meaning of the name he seeks) the Maker of his But he may fearlessly ponder over the works of his predecessors, for common sense will teach him to avoid the reviving of an antiquated style. own. Gown or Town?' roared another; speak, or by jingo "Stand back, stand back, I say; halt, you knaves,' shouted a third- I am a clergyman.' **** "Reginald could no longer be mistaken: He seized the poker, got out upon the balcony, and dropt on the pavement in a twinkling. Gown or Town? Gown or Town?" Cowards! rascals! back, you scoundrels !Mr Keith, Mr Keith, here stand beside me, sir.' "A violent tussle ensued: one fellow aimed a blow at the priest's head, which he parried secun- town uppermost, in the kennel. The priest is a little injured in the scuf- "A soft female voice said from within, Who's there?" 'It's me, my darling,' answered the old man, and the door was opened. A young girl, with a candle in her hand, appeared in the entrance, and uttered something anxiously and quickly in a language which Reginald did not understand. Mein susses kind,' he answered-my bonny lassie, it's a mere scart, just a flea-bite-I'm all safe and sound, thanks to this young gentleman.-Mr. Dalton, allow me to have the honour of presenting you to my neice, Miss Hesketh. Miss Hesketh, Mr. DalBut we shall be better acquainted hereafter, and anon lifting their heads against the sky, as if Dalton is shown to a tavern, and is soon induced to leap from the window thereof, by an assault on Mr Keith, a Catholic clergyman, with whom he had become acquainted, and who is quite an important personage in the story. than this." Therefore are we glad to see Percy's Reliques republished in this country; the simplicity and elegance of many of the songs and ballads cannot fail to please, and their day of dangerous popularity is gone "He stood for some moments riveted to the spot by. Of the numerous imitations which where this beautiful vision had gleamed upon him. followed their first publication, few have He looked up and saw, as he thought, something survived, and of these, few that we have "The bed-room, to which Betty Chambermaid white at one of the windows-but that too was seen are worth reading except those of conducted our young gentleman, was in a part of the gone; and, after a little while, he began to walk Lucius Junius Mickle. He was a genuine house very remote from their supper-parlour. It is back slowly into the city. He could not, however, one of a great number situated along the line of an but pause again for a moment when he reached poet, whose works have been too much neg-open wooden gallery, and its windows look out up- the bridge-the tall fair tower of Magdalen aplected; but he translated, and he imitated, on a lane branching from the street that gives en- peared so exquisitely beautiful above its circling and he is almost forgotten. trance to the inn. Reginald, seeing that there was groves-and there was something so soothing to still fine moonlight, went to the window to peep out his imagination (pensive as it was at the moment) for a moment, ere he should undress himself. He in the dark flow of the Cherwel gurgling below threw up the sash, and was leaning over the balco-him within its fringe of willows. He stood leanny, contemplating a noble Gothic archway on the ing over the parapet, enjoying the solemn loveliother side of the lane, when several persons turn- ness of the scene, when, of a sudden, the universal We shall in our next number proceed to examine somewhat more closely, the character and uses of the work, whose title we have prefixed to this article. stillness was disturbed once more by a clamour of rushing feet and impetuous voices." est tincture. night-cap to the alarum of- Town! Town!' Long | and loud the tumult continued in its fearful rage, Then follows the story of an Oxford row, and much excellent work was accomplished.' * * * told at some length and with infinite hu-fellow, broad in the chest, narrow in the pelvis, Reginald, although a nimble and active young mour and vivacity. We can extract only thick in the neck, and lightsome in the region of its closing scenes. the bread-basket, a good leaper, and a runner "In short, by this time the High-street of Oxford among ten thousand, was not, as has been formerly exhibited a scene as different from its customary mentioned, a fencer; neither was he a wrestler, nor solemnity and silence, as it is possible to imagine. a boxer, nor an expert hand at the baton. These Conceive several hundreds of young men in caps, were accomplishments of which, his education or gowns, or both, but all of them, without excep- having, according to Mr Macdonald's taunt, been tion, wearing some part of their academical insig-negleckit,' he had yet received scarcely the slightnia, retreating before a band rather more numerous, The consequence was, that the upon made up of apprentices, journeymen, labourers, whole, though his exertions were neither few nor bargemen-a motley mixture of every thing that, far between, he was, if mauling were sin, fully in the phrase of that classical region, passes under more sinned against than sinning. The last thing the generic name of Raff. Several casual disturb- he could charge his memory withal, when he afterances had occurred in different quarters of the ward endeavoured to arrange its 'disjecta fragmentown, a thing quite familiar to the last and all pre- ta,' was the vision of a brawny arm uplifted over ceding ages, and by no means uncommon even in against him, and the moon shedding her light very those recent days, whatever may be the case now. distinctly upon the red spoke of a coach-wheel, Of the host of youthful academics, just arrived for with which that arm appeared to be intimately the beginning of the term, a considerable number had, as usual, been quartered for this night in the different inns of the city. Some of these, all full of wine and mischief, had first rushed out and swell ed a mere passing scuffle into something like a substantial row. Herds of town-boys, on the other hand, had been rapidly assembled by the magic influence of their accustomed war-cry. The row once formed into regular shape in the Corn-market, the clamour had penetrated walls, and overleapt battlements; from college to college the madness had spread and flown. Porters had been knocked down in one quarter, iron-bound gates forced in another, and the rope-ladder, and the sheet-ladder, and the headlong leap, had all been put into requisition, with as much eager, frantic, desperate zeal, as if every old monastic tower had been the scene of an unquenchable fire, every dim cloistered quadrangle of a yearning earthquake. **** connected." The apartments of a learned and laborious Fellow of the College, are contrasted with those of its indolent and luxurious Head, who had obtained his office by means not altogether the most honourable. 66 He began writing eagerly, and continued to do so for perhaps a quarter of an hour, without taking any further notice of Reginald's presence. The boy, meanwhile, full of serious thoughts and high resolutions, perused the chamber of the learned hermit round and round, as if he had expected the inspiration of lore to be breathed from its walls. The room was part of a very ancient building, and every thing about it was stamped with antiquity. The high roof of dark unvarnished oak-the one tall, narrow window, sunk deep in the massy wall -the venerable volumes with which the sides of "A terrible conflict ensued-a conflict, the fury the apartment were every where clothed-the bare of which might have inspired lightness, vigour, and wainscot floor, accurately polished, but destitute of elasticity, even into the paragraphs of a Bentham, carpeting, excepting one small fragment under the or the hexameters of a Southey-had either or table--the want of furniture-for there were just both of these eminent persons been there to wittwo chairs, and a heap of folios had been dislodgness-better still had they been there to partake in, ed, ere he himself could occupy one of them-the the genial frenzy. It was now that The Science, chilliness of the place too, for, although the day was (to use the language of Thalaba,) 'made itself to be felt. It was now that (in the words of Words-frosty, there was no fire in the grate-all these, toworth,) the power of cudgels was a visible thing. It was now that many a gown covered, as erst that of the Lady Christabel, 'half a bosom and a side! A sight to dream of, not to see.' It was now that there was no need for that pathetic apostrophe of another living sonneteer 'Away all specious pliancy of mind In men of low degree!' For it was now that the strong bargeman of Isis, and the strong bachelor of Brazen-noze, rushed together like two clouds with thunder laden,' and that the old reproach of Baculo potius,' &c. was forever done away with. It was now that the proctor, even the portly proctor, showed that he had sat at the feet of other Jacksons besides Cyril;For he that came to preach, remained to play.' In a word, there was an elegant tussle which lasted for five minutes, opposite to the side porch of All-Souls. There the townsmen gave way; but being pursued with horrible oaths and blows as far as Carfax, they rallied again under the shadow of that sacred edifice, and received there a welcome reinforcement from the purlicus of the Staffordshire canal, and the ingenuous youth of Penny-farthing street. Once more the tide of war was turned; the gowned phalanx gave back-surly and slow, indeed, but still they did give back. On rolled the adverse and swelling tide with their few plain instincts and their few plain rules.' At every college gate sounded, as the retreating band passed its venerable precincts, the loud, the shrilly summons of-Gown! Gown!'-while down each murky plebeian alley, the snoring mechanic doffed his plump pet poodle upon the hearth-rug-these were among the by no means curta supellex,' of this more mundane thinking shop.'-A gay-looking junior the Head himself, a rubicund old gentleman in fellow and chaplain was caressing the poodle, and grand canonicals and a grizzle wig, was seated in a dignified posture in a superb fauteuil, while a padded footstool sustained in advance his gouty left leg." A dinner in the college hall is circumstantially and somewhat temptingly set forth. "The external features of an old English monastery are still perceived in our academical hospitia, but, alas! a dinner there is now shorn of much of its fair proportion, and presents, at the best, but a faint and faded image of the glories of eld.' Enough, nevertheless, of the ancient form and circumstance is still preserved, to inpress, in no trivial measure, the imagination of him who, for the first time, is partaker in the feast-and it was The solemn bell, sounding as if so with our hero. some great ecclesiastical dignitary were about to be consigned to mother earth-the echoing vestibule-the wide and lofty staircase, lined with serving-men so old and demure that they might almost have been mistaken for so many pieces of grotesque statuary-the hall itself, with its high lancet windows of stained glass, and the brown obscurity of its oaken roof-the yawning chimneys with their blazing logs-the long narrow tables-the elevated dais-the array of gowned guests-the haughty line of seniors seated in stall-like chairs, and separated by an ascent of steps from the younger inmates of the mansion-the Latin grace, chanted at one end of the hall, and slowly re-chanted from the other-the deep silence maintained during the repast-the bearded and mitred visages frowning from every wall-there was something so antique, so venerable, and withal so novel in the scene, that it was no wonder our youth felt enough of curiosi ty, and withal, of a certain sort of awe, to prevent him for once from being able to handle his knife and fork quite a la Roxburgher. "These feelings, of course, were not partaken by the rest of the company, least of all, by the senior and more elevated portion of it. The party at The High Table' of ** was as usual an ac tive, and, as it happened on this day, it was by no means a small one. Red faces grew redder and gether with the worn, emaciated, and pallid coun- redder as the welcome toil proceeded-short fat tenance of the solitary tenant, and the fire of necks were seen swelling in every vein, and ears learned zeal which glowed so bright in his fixed half-hid by luxuriant periwigs could not conceal and steadfast, but nevertheless melancholy eye, their voluptuous twinklings; vigorously plied the impressed Reginald with a mingled feeling of sur- elbows of those whose fronts were out of view; prise, of admiration, of reverence, and of pity. ** the ceaseless crash of mastication waked the endThe apartments of the Head of the Society less echoes of the vaulted space over-head; and presented a very different sort of appearance from airy arches around mimicked and magnified every those of the recluse and laborious senior fellow of gurgle of every sauce-bottle. The stateliness of ***. Reginald was conducted, in short, into a the ceremonial, and the profoundness of the genervery handsome house, furnished in every part in a al silence all about, gave to what was, after all, no style of profuse modern luxury, such as perhaps more than a dinner, something of the dignity of a did not quite accord either with the character of festival-I had almost said something of the solemthe edifice to which it belonged, or with the form nity of a sacrifice. A sort of reverend zeal seemand structure of the different apartments themed to be gratified in the clearing of every platter, selves. After waiting for a considerable time in a and the purple stream of a bumper descended with large and lofty room, where chintz curtains and the majesty of a libation. ottomans, elegant paper-hangings, and splendid "In the under-graduates' part of the hall, the pier-glasses, contrasted strangely enough with a feast was, of course, less magnificent; and among great Gothic window, of the richest monastic them the use of wine is altogether prohibited-a painted glass, a roof of solid sicne, carved all over distinction, on this occasion sufficiently galling, with flowers, mitres, shields of arms, and heads of considering how incessantly they were passed by martyrs, and a fire-place, whose form and dimen- the manciple bearing decanters to the superior resions spoke it at least three centuries old-they gion. But the dinner itself was no sooner over were at last admitted into the presence of the pro- than the fellows rose from their chairs, and another vost. He received them in his library-what a Latin thanksgiving having been duly chanted, dedifferent kind of library from that which Reginald scended in solemn procession from their pride of had just left! New and finely bound books, arrang-place, and followed the guidance of the manciple, ed in magnificent cases of glass and mahogany-who, strutting like a Lord Mayor's beadle, marthe Courier, a number of the Quarterly, and a nov-shalled the line of march to the common room. el of Miss Edgeworth, reposing on a rose-wood table covered with a small Persian carpet-some of Bunbury's caricatures, coloured and in gilt frames -a massive silver standish, without a drop of ink upon its brilliant surface-deep soft chairs in red morocco-a parrot cage by the window--and a Thither no non-graduate eye might follow the learned phalanx-there, might no profane ear catch the echo of their whispered wisdom. "The moment they were supposed to be beyond reach of ear-shot, there arose as loud a gabble as if publicans and sinners had, by a coup-de-main, The Pilot: a Tale of the Sea. By the author of the Pioneers, &c. &c. New York, 1823. aken absolute possession of The Temple-leaping, light upon their motives, purposes, and | Randolph-a Tale. By the author of Logan dancing, shouting in every direction-whistling, characters. Many novels, and pretty good sparring, wagering, wrestling-a Babel of Babels!" ones too, are written as if interesting situations or incidents must be introduced by an array of dull very ones, and the bright and stupid chapters alternate with considerable regularity. It is, perhaps, no slight proof of the extraordinary talents of Mr Cowper, that he has skill enough to lead his heroes and heroines from circumstances which strongly excite the imagination, into others of equal interest immediately and yet naturally. 2 vols. 12mo. MR COWPER has one valuable faculty, which is generally an endowment of the finest intellects, but seems to be sometimes withheld, when almost every other talent and power is given;-the faculty of improvement. Precaution was a poor book; It has been said of the works of this the Spy was a very good one, though not author, as a reproach, that many pages are so good as the Pioneers; and the Pilot we usually occupied in detailing the occurrenthink better than either. It was prophesi-ces of a short period. Novel readers may ed in some of our newspapers and literary be displeased with this, because they are journals that this last production would dis- accustomed to find in their favourite works, appoint the sanguine and impatient expec- a history of the hero's life and conversatation raised by its predecessors;-but the tion during his youth at least, if not his Pilot has appeared, and every pledge, which manhood; but we are not disposed to find the previous works of Mr Cowper had giv- fault with Mr Cowper's fashion of managen, is fully redeemed. ing this matter. A novel is something beThe scene is almost always on the ocean, tween a poem and a drama, and is not altoand the principal characters are seamen; gether without the jurisdiction of the laws, of course a very large and valuable part of which should govern them. Upon the questhe book must lose much of its charm with tion of the unities, we are more persuaded those who have no acquaintance with sea by Dr Johnson's arguments than by Shaksterms or sea manners. From this circum-peare's example; that is, while we admit stance, it may not be universally preferred to the Pioneers or the Spy; but we think it richer than either in passages of original and true humour, of genuine pathos, and of just and natural eloquence. The language is uniformly good, and suited in its character to the occasion, and few books exhibit more accurate and felicitous sketching of human character and conduct, or more graphic pictures of the beauty or terrors of inanimate nature. "Long Tom" is perfectly original, and is drawn to the life. He is one of a class of men who are peculiar, not merely to this country, but to a very small part of our country; who leave the little island, which cradled them amid the waves, and wander over the ocean, until it is to them as a home, and dry land becomes a strange thing;-and his person, habits, tastes, and thoughts are portrayed with great power and success. The evolutions on shipboard in storm and danger, and the appearance of the sea, convulsed and foaming under the lash of the tempest, are all described with the same remarkable skill and effect. There is a striking difference between this novel, and the other works of the same author in one important particular; the skill which constantly sustains the interest we feel in the story from the first to the last page. In the Spy and the Pioneers passages of great power and beauty are separated by rather dreary intervals. In the Pilot the attention is kept awake and constantly fixed upon the story. Excepting a few too long conversations, which, occuring at very interesting moments, we are too impatient to read very carefully, there is scarcely a paragraph in either volume that does not help forward the story, or bring out into stronger relief the scene described, or exhibit the persons of the drama so circumstanced and occupied as to throw a vivid and Seventy Six. 2 vols. 12mo. Errata, or the Works of Will Adams-a Tale. By the author of Logan, Seventy Six, and Randolph. 2 vols. 12mo. THE first of these books is remarkably foolish and impudent. It pretends to be a novel, and the various incidents have about as much coherence as the thoughts of a maniac. and could not be endured, but that the It is absurd, unnatural, impossible; author has made it the vehicle of much imevents, and occasionally scatters through pertinence about living men and passing the dreary expanse of its intolerable folly quence, and a few good thoughts well exsome passages of great power and elopressed. In general, he talks about every thing like a madman or an ideot, but sometimes utters observations and criticisms, remarkably original and just, and throughout the book seems frequently assailed by an uncomfortable conviction, that he is playing the fool. authorship of Randolph. We do not know, There exists some question about the but we confidently believe, that John Neal, of Baltimore, was guilty of this work. He says, at the end of the second volume, in a sort of appendix, that he did not write the that good poems and plays have been writ- book, and assumes a very lofty and rather ten without much observance of the unities threatening air about it. Something more, of place, time, or action, yet we think any however, than his bare assertion is necessawork of the imagination may be the better for ry to rebut the internal evidence, which some regard to them. Of our author's prac-identifies Randolph with other works, actice in this particular, it will be enough to knowledged by Neal. say, that to the last chapter of the second would have thought the works, person, hisBesides, no one volume, the story has advanced but very tory, character, and habits of John Neal few days, and the characters scarcely wan-worthy of such repeated and elaborate noder out of sight of the spot where they are tice, but John Neal. first introduced. We understand he The last chapter goes on has been much beaten in Baltimore by genfor ten or twenty years, and conducts to tlemen, who felt themselves outraged by their last rest, the Pilot and many of his some parts of Randolph; and an opinion subordinates. has gained ground there, that William B. We think Mr Cowper fails most in the Walter, of Boston, recently deceased, left management of the Pilot's historical char- this work among his papers, and that Neal acter. If he intends him to be Paul Jones has been only its editor. This may be so, indeed (which we infer from the preface but we do not believe Walter, by any effort and not from the work itself), more should or discipline, could have enabled himself to have been said of his origin, connexions, reach certain passages of Randolph. We and early history, that the personal identity happen to know that Neal wrote, as his of the character might be more obvious. own, in the album of a lady in Portland, If this was impracticable, we think it would some poetry which is printed in Randolph, have been better to have omitted all allu- and we have heard him relate, with great sion to this remarkable name. emphasis, as a circumstance which mortifiThere is nothing new in the female char-ed him exceedingly, an incident told, pages acters; the soft sweetness of one is con-256, 7, and 8, vol. 1, as befalling the hero of trasted with the fire and vivacity of the the novel; and the initials of the true names other, but there is little in either, which are given. novel-heroines have not almost worn out. "Errata" is not so impertinent as "RanIt is rather a prevailing folly among liv- dolph,” and contains more passages of good ing writers of note, to be vain of writing wit and humour. easily and rapidly; and we are glad to find feeble and incoherent as the other, but may As a story, it is about as some reason for thinking our author ex-be considered, on the whole, as the most empt from this delusion. The whole work tolerable book which Neal-or the author has the appearance of having benefited some- of "Seventy Six"-has written. what by careful revision. There is little close of this work also, there is a long apindication, in the story or the languege, of pendix about Neal, containing, among other the foolish haste and negligence, which things, a denial of his having been thrashhave left much imperfection in the best of ed, and a copy of the card or handbill which the lighter works of these days. respect the Pilot is better than its prede- Baltimore, and which speaks most conIn this Mr Pinkney posted up in various parts of cessors. temptuously of Neal. We applaud Mr At the Neal for refusing to fight with Mr Pink- We think Mr Neal a man of unquestionable and inexhaustible resources. We know him personally, and have wondered at his energy and power of achievement. We always believed him possessed of a moral and intellectual nature, which, with due culture and discipline, might have borne most rare and valuable fruits. But it is too late; it is certain that he cannot be now, all he might have been; and his faults that of rain. Ocean would have gone up | It embraces all that can be fairly con. in one wave, and rolled the mountains be-densed into the small compass of an elefore it, as a gushing rivulet plays with its mentary treatise, and experience has provpebblestones. Moreover, we understand ed that the arrangement and the style are uncommonly well adapted to interest the scholar, and render the science easy of attainment. We think this book decidedly better than any other school book upon the same subject, and are disposed to award to Mr Wilkins, the fullest measure of commendation; but the nature of his work does not require nor even permit us to give an analysis of it, with extracts. We have noticed but one error of any consequence; in No. 114, page 60, of the second edition, the author gives the reason why the warmest weather does not occur when the days As a systematic view of the action of a central fire in the formation, destruction, and reproduction of the earth, this New Theory is decidedly inferior to several, which have grown out of the opinions first advanced by Hutton. and follies, and the ruin, to which they lead, Hints on Extemporaneous Preaching. By Henry Ware, Jr. Minister of the Second have been shown him so plainly, with so little good effect, we cannot resist the conviction, that either from some inherent defect in his disposition or faculties, or from the irresistible dominion of confirmed habit, he never will be other than what he is— a man whose talents are various and powerful, but perverted and worse than useless. are longest, and why the middle of the day is not the warmest part of it. Church in Boston. Boston. 1824. 18mo. "The atmosphere derives heat chiefly, if not enFEW pamphlets of such small size and pre-tirely, by reflection from the earth; so that when tensions as this, contain as much good sense the earth is warmest, the atmosphere is warmest, and just reasoning, clothed in language at coolest; but the earth continues to accumulate and when the earth is coolest, the atmosphere is once so chaste and beautiful. It is certainly heat for some time after the sun's rays are most an able and interesting, and ought to be a powerful." very useful work. Now a heated substance radiates heat, Mr Ware states with great force the but no more heat is reflected from the same An Abstract of a New Theory of the For- arguments in favour of extemporaneous surface when it is warm, than when it is mation of the Earth. By Ira Hill, A. M. preaching, but seems perfectly aware of all cool. The truth is, that the atmosphere is Baltimore. 1823. 12mo. 211 pp. the objections, which are or can be urged not heated principally by reflection from MR HILL supposes, that the eastern conti- against this mode of pulpit address, and the earth, nor by the rays as they come nent was all the land appropriated to the he meets them all candidly but victoriously. through the atmosphere from the sun;— use of mankind, until the days of Noah. He does not wish that habits of written that is, neither by the reflected nor by the At that time the central fire urged with composition should be abandoned by minis- incident rays. It is heated almost entirely excessive heat, exploded, and raised the ters of the gospel; on the contrary, he re- by coming in contact with the earth. best part of America above the waves; gards frequent, careful, and laborious writ- There is a constant circulation between the thence the universal deluge. Four hundred ing as the most efficient and most necessa- higher and lower strata of the atmosphere; and fifty-two years afterwards, the lands ry means of creating a power of preaching for, while the earth is growing warmer, the now covered by the Mediterranean sunk, extempore with care, accuracy, and im- air which touches it, thereby receives heat, and caused the flood of Ogyges. One hun-pressiveness. The rules laid down by Mr and being expanded and so rendered lightdred and eighty-eight years after this, New Ware appear to be well calculated to give er, ascends; of course that which is specifHolland came up; many vapours arose, this powerful and therefore important facul-ically heavier descends and is in like manwere driven upon the mountains of Africa, ty. We shall not make extracts from his ner heated. By this constant circulation there condensed into rain, and caused the pamphlet, nor attempt to give a minute ac- the atmosphere is warmed; the heat thus flood of Ethiopia, mentioned in the Chroni- count of his course of reasoning. The ar- received from the earth not being commucle of Axium. Eighty-six years after this guments could not be condensed into brief-nicated from one particle to another, since flood, that part of Africa, which was be- er space than that they now occupy without each one must come in contact with some tween capes Bon and Razat, descended; doing them an injury. more solid body, or its temperature will be the waters were repelled and flowed in a We will add that we perfectly agree little raised. The remainder of the paradirect line to Thessaly, deluged that coun- with the reverend author, in thinking that graph quoted, is correct, and by the princitry, and caused the flood of Deucalion; a change in the customs of our preachers ples we have stated explains the phenomand finally, at the crucifixion of our Sa- in this respect is very desirable,—and in enon. We will fully discharge our task of viour, the northeast part of America came resting our preference of extempore preach-faultfinding, by suggesting that the paraforth, and poured a deluge over the remain-ing chiefly upon the truth, beautifully ex-graph, explaining the aberration of light, pressed by Milton. may not be perfectly intelligible to a young reader. der of the continent. It will be observed, that the author is very particular in his dates and localities,-and that he has had the good fortune to ascertain with exactness, facts and periods about which the learned have hitherto doubted. The merits of this New Theory are not very obvious to us, but we are not disposed to discuss them at much length. We would suggest to the author, that there is no direct and distinct evidence of an universal deluge, except in the Scriptures, and they do not assert more plainly, that a deluge covered the earth, than that the deluge was caused by forty days' rain. Now if we can imagine America thrown up from the roots of the deep, surely the multitudinous waters must have recoiled upon the opposing shores of the old world in a shape very different from "True eloquence," says Milton, "I find to be none but the serious and hearty love of truth; and that whose mind soever is fully possessed with a fervent desire to know good things, and with the dearest charity to infuse the knowledge of them into others,-when such a man would speak, his words, like so many nimble and airy servitors, trip about him at command and in well ordered files, as he would wish, fall aptly into their places." We must be indulged in a few remarks upon the science, of which this book would teach the elements, however trite the subject, or what we have to say upon it, may seem. They who have little knowledge of astronomy are apt to think it of no practical importance; little connexion is seen between the ordinary duties of life, and a knowledge of other worlds and of the relations which exist between them and our own. We are not about to declaim against this ignorance and stupidity, but would show them, who have it yet to learn, that this science is eminently calculated to effect important practical uses. We would not open too wide a field, and therefore stop not to show how much the |