aware that our author cannot reasonably be expected to be always doing his best, more than a lawyer or a preacher; but like these, we expect him to rise with the occasion; and, surely, Italy might have suggested better subjects than its vagabond population and insignificant travellers. Let us be understood; we should not complain of these things if we had reason to expect the others. But as Mr Irving has in the fourth number turned short round upon America, we presume he means to give us no more of Italy; and if so, we take leave to say he has not given us the best of it. We wonder at this, indeed, more than we complain of it; for we admit we have no right to select subjects for him; and though speaking in the plural number is the pienitude of our power, the only sanction we could annex to our decrees, would be a threat not to buy or review his books; which he well knows we neither care nor dare to perform.

A Summary of the Law and Practice of
Real Actions; with an Appendix of
Practical Forms. By Asahel Stearns,
Professor of Law in Harvard University.
Boston. 1824. 8vo. pp. 528.

Dragoon;" the indelicacy with which that the shortlived wonder of a stranger, and he is slyly smothered in the description of has caught little of the spirit of France or Dolph Heyliger's mistress, which might Italy; but among the old Fraus and Mynhave been said openly without any breach heers, he seems as if he belonged to their of propriety; and finally, the shocking story age as well as country. His feelings soften of the " Young Robber," where a scene the and his humour brightens, as he approaches most revolting to humanity is twice unne- them, and all nature puts on a quiet and cessarily forced on the reader's imagination. peculiar grace in harmony with their charWe say unnecessarily, for how much more acters. truly tragical, as well as more decent, would that tale have been, if the scene where Rosetta is left alone with the Captain had been omitted; and the "lot" had fallen on the unhappy lover who was so soon to be her executioner. And yet these horrors are the only incidents of the story to which we are indebted to Mr Irving's invention; at least, we have heard the tale ourselves, the same in every thing but these particulars. We hope not to be thought squeamish on this subject; for we believe we have as classical a taste in rude nature as is necessary in literature or the arts. We appreWe like the model of these tales very hend that it is the part of true delicacy to much. Like "Bracebridge Hall," they look on nature dressed and undressed, with consist of distinct stories strung together on equal eyes. But we like neither jokes nor a slender narrative that runs almost unper- horrors built on such subjects. And why ceived through the number, and is of little is it that this fault has grown so much upon other use than to introduce and connect Mr Irving since the publication of the the episodes. This gives us the pleasure "Sketch Book," which contains, as far as and variety of short stories, without the we remember, no traces of it? Can it be formality of separate introductions. Thus, because that publication was addressed to the third number is made up of a descrip- the American public, and his subsequent tion of several parties of travellers meeting works to the English! We have no doubt at an inn in Terracina, who hear and tell that the standard of delicacy is higher in various stories, and are robbed and rescued our country than in England; but we should on the way to Fondi. The main story oc- be sorry to think that Mr Irving is willing cupies about forty out of a hundred and to owe any popularity in that country to the thirty-five pages, and is altogether the least greater laxity of its manners. He has interesting part. Much depends, in this been cordially received, and almost adoptway of writing, upon the adroitness with ed there, but we trust he will still rememwhich the adscititious stories are brought ber the country of his birth and education, in; and we cannot say that Mr Irving is in all things in which she can claim a supealways happy in this. Too many of them riority, as we think she can in this. We are read from manuscripts accidentally consider this much more than a mere matin the possession of the principal person-ter of taste. Mr Irving needs not to be ages, or are introduced by some phrase equivalent to the "that reminds me" of a confirmed story-teller.

The next remark we have to make on Mr Irving's tales is a very serious one. We are bound to charge him with the vulgarism of indelicacy. This is a fault which seems peculiarly out of place in him; for he must owe any rank he may hereafter hold in our literature, to his refinement rather than to his strength. All his writings display a delicacy of perception that seems incompatible with a gross taste; but it is not only a gross, but a vulgar taste, that can be gratified by printing a coarse joke. Such things will pass through the minds of the most refined, and may sometimes slip out in conversation, and leave no stain behind; but it is a very different thing deliberately to put them down in irrevocable print, for the private eye of the young and innocent. If the truth of the charge be denied, we refer for proof of it to the description of the comic shape of the Strolling Manager's Clown; to the indecency drowned in the crack! crack! of the postillion's whip at Terracina; the innuendoes in the "Bold

told, that to debase the literary taste of a
country is no small step towards corrupting
its morals. But we take great pleasure in
bearing our testimony to the correct and
valuable tendency of his writings in every
particular but this; and even of this we
should have spoken, perhaps, too harshly,
did we not point our remarks rather at the
nature than the degree of the offence.

It is probably not known to all our read-
ers, that "The Painter's Adventure" is, in
the main, a true account of what befell an
artist in the employment of Lucien Buona-
parte a few years ago; and that "The
Young Robber's Tale" is founded on a sto-
ry that was actually told him by one of the
gang that carried him off.

The fourth Number returns to the banks of the Hudson, ground on which Mr Irving is always successful. His tales of the New Netherlands, of the queer simplicity of the ancient inhabitants, and their odd and wild superstitions, have the life and freshness of pictures from nature, with the mist and mellowness of age. To us, all his European sketches were cold and tame in comparison with these. His enthusiasm for England is

An Essay on the Law of Contracts, for the Payment of Specific Articles. By Daniel Chipman. Middlebury. 1822. pp. 224. THE first of these valuable works is a striking instance of the indirect utility of our literary institutions. They gather able and learned men, and lay upon them the charge of educating the youthful and growing minds of successive generations. If this duty be well performed, such institutions abundantly sustain their claim to public protection; but when these more direct and immediate uses are efficiently discharged, other duties of a collateral nature, but perhaps neither less imperative, nor less important, can scarcely be disregarded. The instructers have not only sufficient leisure, and all literary facilities allowed them, that they may learn, but perpetual acquisition and improvement form-or should form— the actual tenure by which their offices are held; they must learn, that they may teach. It is easy for an instructer to know more than it is necessary that his pupil should learn from him; but he who gives himself heartily to the business of ed ucation, will strive to keep up with, and to aid the progress of thought and knowledge in the world; to enlarge the extent, and increase the utility of that measure of knowledge which his pupils may acquire, and to make the discipline to which they are subjected, more efficient and profitable. Moreover, the collision of various minds strikes out from all more light, and gives to all more warmth; and scholars, who are connected together as are the officers of a college, and who love their duty, and wish to perform it faithfully, while they perpetually become better able to discharge this duty, can hardly fail to accumulate stores of useful thoughts or profitable learning, that cannot be wholly expended upon their pupils; and it would be their duty to impart these stores to the public. In England and on the continent, many of the most valuable works published, are written by persons connected in some way with the Universities. We hope Professor Stearns' volume may be regarded as an earnest that our own Cambridge, and her sister colleges, will not, in time to come, be barren of good books.

Soon after Professor Stearns took charge of the law department in the University, he prepared a course of Lectures upon the Law and Practice of Real Actions, the util

ity of which he found greater than he had expected; and, at the request of some of his pupils and of friends learned in the law, the substance of these Lectures is now published in this form. We can say, without fear of contradiction, that the publication of this work has supplied a desideratum, which all, in any way conversant with the law, have acknowledgd, and which students and the younger members of the bar have especially felt.

living in Westminster Hall, or in Boston, that Mr Chipman, and other men of equal or any where else, by his law, if he came ability, may be induced to make other books out of his grave tomorrow. Now, though of similar character. It is intended to be it may be true, that my Lord Coke, for a one of that class, of which the inimitable term or two after such resuscitation, might "Essay on Bailments," by Sir William be astounded at the novel appearance of Jones, was the prototype, and, as we hope, things, yet we do believe, that he would the precursor of many yet to come. To bring with him a knowledge of the law as use the language of the last mentioned it was, which would so aid him in learning work, "if all the titles, which Blackstone the law as it is, that his old supremacy professed only to sketch in elementary diswould shortly be reestablished. The chan- courses, were filled up with exactness and A full and long review of this excellent ges of the law have been gradual,-never perspicuity, Englishmen" (and we as the work would be interesting to but few of our very violent, never per saltum. Its course descendants of Englishmen, and co-heirs readers; we must, however, in justice to has been progressive, but not interrupted; with the present race of the better part of our professional brethren, state to them and an actual, an important connexion ex- their admirable system of law) "might with some distinctness, the objects and uses its between its various conditions in various hope, at length, to possess a digest of their of a book which is made for them at no in- periods. Only the last links of the chain are laws which would leave but little room for considerable expense of time and labour. felt by us; they not only bind together the controversy, except in cases depending on The Introduction, which extends to the interests, and properties, and rights of all, ❘ their particular circumstances.” 47th page, explains with great clearness and form them into one beautiful structure; and accuracy the fundamental principles of but they are held fast to an unbroken sethe Law of Real Property. The technical ries, which goes far backwards into the terms are translated into more common depths of almost forgotten ages. Cases language, and their meaning defined and are now perpetually recurring, which are illustrated. The first chapter treats of the deeply affected by a reference to cases that remedies for those injuries to real property occurred centuries ago. Let any one run which amount to an ouster; and in this through a volume of Pickering's Reports, chapter, the great diversity and intricacy and he will see how often court and counof practice which prevails in England, with sel are compelled, by a necessity they respect to these remedies, is strongly con- cannot evade if they would, to call upon trasted with the simplicity and directness of obsolete law, to help them to the right the practice adopted in Massachusetts. The understanding and administration of actual second chapter treats of Real Actions, and law. No doubt, students are sometimes their incidents; the third of Warranty, embarrassed and exposed to some tax of Covenants, and Voucher; the fourth, of time and labour, by the negligence of auWrits of Entry, and the proceedings there- thors whose works are put into their hands, In this chapter the Writs of Entry in in not stating with sufficient distinctness how the Quibus and in the Post, which are so much of what they are reading is directly, common in the practice of this State as to and how much is indirectly applicable to the have almost superseded all other forms of law of the present day. But this fault can Real Actions, are very fully and clearly il-in no wise be charged upon Professor lustrated; there is also an interesting Ap- Stearns; indeed, his clearness and precispendix to this chapter, upon the origin and nature of Mortgages, and the Chancery Jurisdiction respecting them. The fifth chapter treats of Writs of Dower; the sixth, of Writs of Formedon; the seventh, of Writs of Right, and the eighth and last, of the Action of Trespass for the Mesne Profits. There is added an Appendix containing one hundred and one Precedents in Real Actions, and a number of ancient records of proceedings in the courts of the Colony and Province of Massachusetts, for the recovery of Real Property, during the seventeenth century.

on.

All the subjects treated of in the work are discussed and explained as fully as was practicable, without enlarging its size to a cumbrous and very inconvenient magnitude. Some of his readers may think that too large a proportion of his work relates to ancient law; to forms, and even principles, which are now neglected and ought to be forgotten. The law of to-day is doubtless a very different thing from the law of three hundred years ago; and it is with actual living law that students and practitioners should be most conversant. But this is only one side of the case. We once heard an eminent jurist,-we may say, the most eminent jurist of this country,-declare, that in his opinion, Coke could not earn a

ion in this respect constitutes a very large
part of the value of his work. The student
will be able to distinguish our system of
real actions from that now in practice in
England. He will not only see, but be in
some measure taught to account for the sin-
gular fact, that forms and processes, and
legal remedies, which had become nearly
obsolete in England when our fathers came
from her shores, have been retained, or
rather revived, here,-stripped of the thou-
sand inconveniences and embarrassments
which brought them into disuse, and wrought
into a system more simple, more useful, and
far better in every respect than that now
in use in England, or in those states which
have adhered with blinder fidelity to the
models upon which their rules and forms of
jurisprudence are fashioned.

It is due to Professor Stearns to remark,
that his precedents are, in every respect,
excellent; and we need not remind any
practising lawyer, how much a collection
of precedents of this kind, well arranged
for convenient reference, has been wanted.

Mr Chipman's Essay was published some time since, so long, perhaps, that it may be thought almost beyond our reach. We notice it, however, because we should be glad to make it better known to our lawyers, not only for the good it may do them, but

The administration of the laws of our author's own State, is, indeed, judging from the account he gives of it in his Preface, in a woful case. The Legislature, he tells us, in effect, consists of but one branch only; the judges are annually elected by this legislature; Justices of the Peace have jurisdiction to the amount of one hundred dollars; "statutes are multiplied, and settled rules of the common law are set aside by statutes, and those statutes frequently altered, amended, explained, or repealed— and frequently, from a supposed wrong construction of a statute by the judiciary, an explanatory statute has been passed, of more doubtful construction than the statute which they attempted to explain;"" and it has often been made a question whether the law should be altered, or a judgment set aside by an act of the Legislature, and the judges displaced." Such a state of things must sooner or later work its own cure, and no palliatives can prolong the time when the people must, for their own protection, provide for a permanent judiciary, and less fluctuation in their laws. Our author proposes, as remedies, the publication of all decided cases, and of such Essays as his own. Their books of Reports would probably resemble Southard's New Jersey Reports, where five sixths of the cases are on certiorari from Justices of the Peace, and more than one half terminate with the ominous words, "Let judgment be reversed." Besides, of what service would the Reports be, if the Legislature, taking offence at the decision of one set of judges, remove them, and appoint others for the very purpose of overturning the prior decisions. If numerous essays as good as the one before us be published, and every abstruse title be by them plainly elucidated, still, though the judges of one year take the law of these essays for their guide, the next year's judges, from a spirit of contradiction, may forbid their being read in the courts. Such a course of things cannot go on.

Mr Chipman's proposed forms of declaring and pleading in actions on contracts for the delivery of specific articles, and his observations on what ought to be the legal effect of the verdict, and on the measure of damages, seem to us sound and just; and we hope that the system which he recommends,

may be adopted in practice. We fully a well established and legal practice both that I could plainly discern the form and
concur with him in the observation which in England and in this country. In this position of the several stones which compose
he makes in his Preface, that the law on this Commonwealth it is expressly authorized it;-and yet I must confess to a secret feel-
subject cannot be settled by statutes; "that by statute even in so important an instru- ing of disappointment; but it was all my
a volume of laws might be enacted on this ment as a will. If we were to use the same own fault; I either had forgotten, or did not
single branch of jurisprudence, and still liberty with Mr Chipman that he has taken correctly know, their true size; and foolishly
leave the system imperfect;-the law must with the ancient English judges, we should expected, I believe, to find each particular
be settled by a course of judicial decisions." guess, that his secret reason for assailing stone as tall as a church tower. I speedily
Before we conclude, we think it our duty this practice was a little infection of the reasoned myself, however, into a proper
to animadvert upon one passage in this fondness for legislation with which, in his mood, and disappointment then gave place
book, which is wholly gratuitous, and which remarks upon the case of Weld vs. Hadley, to continually increasing admiration. For
we were very sorry to see. It occurs on he charges his fellow citizens of Vermont. the remainder of the three miles we kept it
pages 22, 23, and is this:
We hope the author will meet with the in full view, still growing and growing, as
success that he deserves, and be encouraged we gained upon it, till at last we quitted
to write other essays as clear and logical the beaten road, and driving over the short
as this, upon the subjects which he enume-dry turf, stopped immediately beneath it.
rates in his Preface. Though not intended
for the profession, we doubt not that in
their hands they will be most useful; few
people can afford to purchase law books at
the high price which they must necessarily
bear; and we hope the picture of an igno-
rant lawyer, which is drawn by Mr Chipman
with so much force in his Preface, is not a
picture of a majority of the profession in
Vermont; we are sure it will represent
very few indeed in Massachusetts.
We ought perhaps in justice to state,-a

I know it is very common for a person who can
write to request a by-stander to put his name to a
note; but such trifling with written instruments
ought not to be permitted; it is a practice wholly
unknown to the common law. Written contracts,
in law and reason, hold a higher place than mere
verbal contracts, not only as to the certainty of the
precise terms of the contract, but as to the degree
of certainty that the contract was entered into by
the parties. But set aside the evidence of hand
writing, and written contracts would fall below ver-
bal contracts as it respects the certainty of their
execution. Admit as proof of the execution of a
note, that the defendant directed a by-stander to
put his name to it, and proof of a consideration is
dispensed with, as also proof of the contract on
which the note was given, and should the witness
be guilty of perjury, it could not be easily detect-remark which we are sorry to say is equally
ed; beside, men are distinguished by their hand
writing, with the same degree of ease and certain
ty, as by their countenances; hence, a higher de-
gree of certainty in the proof of hand writing than
in the proof of a verbal contract. The law does
not, therefore, admit evidence that a third person
was directed to put the defendant's name to the
note, to be substituted for the more certain evidence
of the hand writing of the defendant. There is no
necessity for the admission of such testimony, for
if the plaintiff fail of proving the execution of the
note, yet if he can prove the contract on which
the note was given, he may still recover his de-
mand.

With great deference to Mr Chipman, we must be permitted to state, that we thought the practice which he reprobates quite well known to the common law, so well indeed, that a maxim supporting it had been established from time immemorial, to wit, "Qui facit per alium facit per se." Mr Chipman admits that this is a common practice, which, alone, would, we think, be an argument in its favour. He urges the danger of perjury, and the superior certainty afforded by the evidence of handwriting. If the note were signed by an agent with his own name and the promissor's, which Mr Chipman allows to be valid, is the evidence of handwriting greater or the danger of perjury less? In such case parol proof must be given of the agents authority, which is exactly the danger against which he wishes to guard. It is not necessary in declaring on a promissory note to aver that the hand of the promissor is subscribed thereto; but in one case it was so declared, and the evidence being that it was signed by a third person in the presence and by the direction of the person whose name was written, Lord Ellenborough was inclined that the proof was sufficient to support the declaration, though if it had purported on the face of the instrument to have been signed by an agent, the variance would have been fatal.* We believe that this is

applicable to many of our modern law
books, both English and American,-that
neither of these works is free from typo.
graphical errors, which offend the eye,
though few of them obscure the sense. This
is the more to be regretted in the first of them,
as the typography is eminently beautiful.

*See 2 Camp. 405, Helmsley vs. Loader, and 5
Esp. 180, Levy vs. Wilson.

MISCELLANY,

Eddying within its vast circumference,
On Sarum's naked plain.

Wordsworth's Excursion.

September 11, 1820. STONEHENGE lies about eight miles from Salisbury; and it would have been a pity and a shame if I had left this part of the country, without visiting so remarkable an object. So this morning I jumped into a post-chaise for the purpose.

Our course was to the northwest, and soon brought us to a wide, chalky, desert tract, called Salisbury Plain. The day was hot, and the atmosphere clear; and from one of the undulating eminences which alone diversify this barren waste, I could plainly distinguish, at the distance of five miles, what I knew must be Stonehenge. The appearance was like a number of small black dots, or like a flock of sheep when they are at the distance of a mile or so from the spectator. I then lost sight of it; but from another rising in the ground, which the post boy said was three miles from it, I caught it again. It was now so distinct

So many of the stones have fallen, that the whole seems at first sight to be a confused assemblage of enormous masses of rock; bnt after a while you discover three concentric circles of upright stones, and in the centre a single stone lying imbedded in the ground, which is called the altar. The most remarkable of these circles is the interior one, composed of huge blocks about twenty feet high, seven feet wide, and three feet thick; every two of which formerly supported a third, of nearly the same size, which has been called the impost, and which is rudely fastened to its two supporting pillars by a ball and socket joint. The three together, have received the appellation of trilithon. In this circle there are only two of these trilithons remaining entire. The second circle is composed of stones which are no more than seven feet high, and are separate pillars. But in the outward circle they rise to the height of fourteen feet, and are again formed into trilithons, several of which are standing and perfect.

There have been many theories started with respect to the purpose and origin of this monument, a number of which have been collected together and printed at Salisbury in a small pamphlet. The two most prevalent are, the one, that it is a military trophy of the ancient Britons, and the other that it is a Druidical temple. But the truth is, that there is no authentic history relating to it; and it is next to an impossibility that any thing should ever be ascertained of its design or erection; but there it stands, the gloomy monarch of this lonely plain-the hoary record of an age that has no chronicle-the mighty work of nameless men-the scene and the witness of events that have long since gone down to oblivion;-there it stands, and there it has stood, while centuries of suns have poured their fiercest beams upon it, and winter after winter has brought the driving snow, and the pelting rain, and the sweeping wind, to help time on to its destruction;-but there it stands, and there it will stand, a wonder and a monument, when our histories, like its own, are forgotten.

At the distance of fifty or sixty yards to the northeast of the main structure, and leaning towards it, is a large single stone, sixteen feet high, called the Friar's heel. This name is connected with the popular

and traditional account of the erection of Stonehenge-not the most learned or probable, perhaps, but certainly the most amusing. It seems, according to this account, that the stones which now compose Stonehenge, were once the property of an old woman in Ireland, and grew in her back yard. The famous necromancer, Merlin, having set his heart on possessing them, mentioned the affair to the Devil, who promised to obtain them for him. For this purpose, assuming, which he did without the least difficulty, the appearance of a gentleman, he visited the old woman, and pouring a bag of money on her table, told her he would give her as many of the pieces for the stones in her ground, as she could reckon while he was taking them away. Thinking it impossible for one person to manage them in almost any given time, she closed with his proposal immediately, and began forthwith to count the money; but she had no sooner laid her hand on the first coin, than the old one cried out, Hold! for your stones are gone!' The old woman ran to her window, and looking out into her back yard, found that it was really so-her stones were gone. The Arch Enemy had, in the twinkling of an eye, taken them all down, tied them together, and was now flying away with them. As he was crossing the river Avon, at Bulford, the string which bound the stones became loose, and one of them dropped into the stream, where it still may be seen; with the rest, however, he arrived safe on Salisbury Plain, where, in obedience to Merlin's instructions, he began to set them up again. The work, in the hands of such a builder, went on swimmingly, and the Devil was so well pleased with it, that as he was placing the last stone, he declared, with an intention, no doubt, of teazing the restless curiosity of mankind, that no one should ever know where the pile came from, or how it came there. In this part of the business he was disappointed; for a Friar, who had lain concealed about the work, loudly replied, That is more than thou canst tell, Old Nick.' This put the Devil in such a rage, that pulling up the nearest stone by the roots, he threw it at the Friar, with the design of crushing him; but the Friar was too nimble for him-the stone only struck his heel; and thus he gave it its present name, and escaped to let the world know who was the architect of Stonehenge.

They who still persist in giving no credit to the Friar's information, have been exceedingly puzzled in endeavouring to account for the elevation of such huge columns, in an age which must have been so rude and ignorant. The solution given by Rowland has the merit of ingenuity, although it cannot be determined that the method suggested by him was that employed by the real builders. I give it in his own words. "The powers of the lever, and of the inclined plane, being some of the first things understood by mankind in the art of building, it may be well conceived that our first ancestors made use of them; and we may imagine, that in order to erect such a prodi

gious monument as Stonehenge, they chose | trinkets, &c. As companions to Stone-
where they found, or made where such henge, these barrows add much to the ef-
were not fit for their hands, small aggeres, fect of the scene, and heighten the feel-
or mounds of firm and solid earth for an ings of contemplative solemnity which are
inclined plane, flatted and levelled at top; wrought up in the bosom of the beholder.
up the sloping sides of which, with great There is nothing modern near the place for
under levers upon fixed fulciments, and with miles;-here is the vast and venerable
balances at the end of them to receive into monument, and scattered here and there
them proportioned weights and counter- about it, are the primitive graves of men
poises, and with hands enough to guide and who were doubtless familiar with its mys-
manage the engines, they that way, by lit- teries, but whose knowledge sleeps with
tle and little, heaved and rolled up those them, as soundly as they do. It seems as if
stones they intended to erect on the top of there must be some old and mighty sympa-
the hillock, where laying them along, they thy between these remnants of a vanished
dug holes in the earth at the end of every age; as if in the deep silence of the sultry
stone intended for column or supporter, the noon they might meditate together on the
depth of which holes were equal to the departed glories of their time; or, when the
length of the stones, and then, which was midnight storm was high, might borrow its
easily done, let slip the stones into these exulting voice to talk of their well kept se-
holes straight on end; which stones, so sunk crets, of battle and of victory-while every
and well closed about with earth, and the human ear was distant, and the sailing
tops of them level with the top of the mount clouds, and the glancing stars, alone looked
on which the other flat stones lay, it was on at their solemn dialogue,
only placing those incumbent flat stones
upon the tops of the supporters, duly bound
and fastened, and taking away the earth
from between them almost to the bottom of
the supporters, and there then appeared
what we now call Stonehenge."

Concerning the origin and derivation of
the name Stonehenge, there is as much di-
versity of opinion as upon any other cir-
cumstance relating to it. Inigo Jones says,
"This antiquity, because the architraves
are set upon the heads of the upright stones,
and hang as it were, in the air, is gene-
rally known by the name of Stone-Henge."
"The true Saxon name," says Gibson, in
Camden's Britannia, "seems to be Stan-
hengest,-from the memorable slaughter
which Hengist, the Saxon, here made of the
Britons. If this etymology may be allowed,
then that other received derivation from the
hanging of stones, may be as far from the
truth, as that of the vulgar Stone-edge, from
stones set on edge." An anonymous writer,
about the year 1660, who calls his piece
"A Fool's Bolt soon shot at Stonage," ap-
pears to me to be gravely quizzing the an-
tiquaries and etymologists;—if he is not,
he is himself the most ridiculous of the
whole fraternity. He pretends to have
discovered every thing concerning this pile,
the when, the how, the why, and the where-
fore, and divides his article into twelve
particulars, the second of which relates to
the contested derivation. Hear it! "2. My
second particular is, that a bloody battle was
fought near Stonage. For the very name
Stonage signifies Stone-battle; the last syl-
lable age coming from the Greek y, a
furious battle, &c.; so that all that have
built their opinion of this monument on any
other foundation than a bloody battle, have
built Stonages in the air."-But enough of
this.

In returning to Salisbury, I took a different road from that which brought me to Stonehenge, and at the end of two miles came to the village of Amesbury. While the postillion stopped here to refresh himself and his horses, I walked out, and passing a small, but old and pituresque church, entered the grounds of Amesbury House, a mansion belonging to Lord Douglas. The building was designed by Inigo Jones, and is a handsome looking house, but fast going to decay, as the present possessor has not inhabited it for years. The walls are defaced, the windows boarded up, and the glass broken. The grounds are as desolate as the dwelling; the banks of the Avon, which winds through them, are overgrown with long grass and bushes, and its stream is choked with mud and reeds; a bridge, with a summer-house in the Chinese fashion built upon it, is made almost impassable by its own ruins; the path is strewn with dead leaves and withered branches; the dial stone is overturned, and there is not even "One rose of the wilderness left on its stalk, To mark where a garden had been." Feelings more deeply sad and sorrowful are perhaps inspired by scenes like this, than by the remains of a more distant age;-decay is premature, and ruin has come before its time; the traces of desolation are marked upon familiar things, and the effects of many years have overtaken the workmanship of yesterday.

When I returned to the inn, I found the chaise waiting for me. The sun was now very powerful, and its rays, by being reflected from the chalky road, were rendered doubly burning. Neither was there any thing in the scenery to refresh the spirit and cool the blood;-the harvest was over, and the fields were all dry stubble;-not a cottage was to be seen, nor any living thing, exAfter having viewed the monument it- cepting a shepherd whom we met, with his self, the attention is attracted to the nu- coat stripped off and thrown over his shouldmerous barrows, or sepulchral mounds, byer, covered with dust, and driving a flock of which it is surrounded. Several of these panting sheep over the heated downs. have been opened, and have been found to contain cinerary urns, metal and glass beads, weapons of brass and iron, cups,

Within two miles of Salisbury, and at a short distance from the road, are the ruins of Old Sarum. The only dwelling near it

is a humble pot-house, at which we stopped. A path through its little garden leads out upon the ruins. They are very inconsiderable; an irregular mound of earth incloing a space of two thousand feet in diameter, and a yard or two of crumbling stone wall; yet this place sends two members to parliament, that is, the proprietor of the land sends them. Horne Tooke was once returned from this thoroughly rotten borough. Two lads were ploughing immediately under the ramparts.

colours do to the eye, a sensation of re- shall take my leave of it with the followpose, after the contemplation of glaring ing: and offensive hues. "Look! under that broad becch tree I The Complete Angler is in the form of sat down, when I was last this way a fisha dialogue between a Fowler, a Hunter, ing. And the birds in the adjoining grove and a Fisher, who meet together by acci- seemed to have a friendly contention with dent and enter into a discussion of the an echo, whose dead voice seemed to live merits of their respective pursuits. The first in a hollow tree near to the brow of that speaker is the Fowler, from whose pane- primrose hill. There I sat viewing the gyric on his vocation, and every thing con- silver streams glide silently toward their nected with it, I would make one extract. centre, the tempestuous sea; yet sometimes "But the nightingale, another of my airy opposed by rugged roots and pebble-stones, creatures, breathes such sweet loud music which broke their waves, and turned them Vertet, et, Urbs, dicet, hæc quoque clara fuit. out of her little instrumental throat, that it into foam." might make mankind to think miracles are not ceased. He that at midnight, when the labourer sleeps securely, should hear, as I have very often, the clear airs, the sweet descants, the natural rising and falling, the doubling and redoubling of her voice, might well be lifted above earth, and say, Lord, what music hast thou provided for the saints in heaven, when thou affordest bad men such music on earth."

Et te

durus arator

Sannazarius.

A ride of fifteen minutes more brought us to Salisbury. F. G.

ISAAC WALTON.

ALL the world has heard of Isaac Walton's "fascinating little volume"-for all the world has read the Sketch Book-but few in this country have ever read it. Although it has passed through many editions since its first publication in 1653, it has for many years been comparatively a rare book, and I think you may have readers who will be amused by some account of the work and its author. The edition which is now before me* is in a less expensive form, than the former ones have usually been. All the engravings are omitted, which deprives the work of one charm, that the author seems to have made no small account of, observing that "he who likes not the book should like the excellent picture of the trout, and some of the other fish, which I may take a liberty to commend, because they concern not myself." The author of this celebrated treatise was born at Stafford, in the year 1593; and,

to judge from the style of his literary per

but

formances, must have received a good Eng-
lish education. Some time before the year
1624 he settled in London as a sempster or
linen-draper, which employment he con-
tinued to follow till 1643, when he retired
from business and spent the remainder of
his life, which was protracted to the ad-
vanced age of ninety," mostly in the fami-
lies of the eminent clergymen of England,
by whom he was much beloved." He wrote
the biography of Sir John Donne, Sir Hen-
ry Wotton, and other eminent
persons;
the present work is the one to which he
has owed his celebrity. It is chiefly re-
markable for the tone of simplicity, benevo-
lence, and gentleness, that breathes through
the whole. We feel ourselves acquainted
with the author; and when we contemplate
his quiet cheerfulness and primitive morali-
ty and charity, and remember that he lived
through the stormy periods of the reign of
Charles I., the protectorate of Cromwell,
and the licentious days which succeeded
the Restoration, we cannot wonder that he
was, as he is said to have been, "well be-
loved of all good men." Amid the turmoil
and vices of the time, the character of
Walton affords to the mind, what certain

The Complete Angler of Isaac Walton and
Charles Cotton. Chiswick. 1824.

The Hunter follows, with appropriate praise of his favourite amusement, and the Fisher concludes the debate with a long discourse on the pleasures of angling, which makes a convert of the former. The Fowler soon leaves them, while the Fisher goes on through the remainder of the book, to instruct his new disciple in the best methods of catching and cooking the various fish which inhabit the streams and ponds in England. In the course of their walk they meet with a party engaged in hunting the otter. On this occasion the Angler puzzles the Huntsman with a question near akin to one, which has worried wiser heads than his, even the learned in the law of our

own times.

ask you a pleasant question; do you hunt
"Pisc. I pray, honest Huntsman, let me
a beast or a fish?"

There are pieces of delightful poetry
scattered through the volume; the fol-
lowing is a favourable specimen. I have
seen it lately published in a journal as the
property of an English poetess, who flour-
ished about eighty years after Walton
died. It has been accredited to divers old
authors; but is attributed by Walton him-
self to Hubbard.

Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,
The bridal of the earth and sky,
Sweet dews shall weep thy fall to-night,
for thou must die.
Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave,
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye,
Thy root is ever in its grave,

and thou must die.

Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,
A box where sweets compacted lie;
My music shows you have your closes,
and all must die.

Only a sweet and virtuous soul,
Like season'd timber, never gives,
But when the whole world turns to coal,
then chiefly lives.

I might select for your readers many
beautiful extracts from this little work,
but would much rather, for their sakes,
they should seek them for themselves; and

And this description of the mode of cooking a pike [pickerel], which is sufficiently appetizing.

"But if this direction to catch a Pike thus do you no good, yet I am certain this direction, how to roast him when he is caught, is choicely good; for I have tried it, and it is something the better for not being common. But with my direction you must take this caution, that your Pike must not be a small one, that is, it must be more than half a yard, and should be bigger.

First, open your Pike at the gills, and if need be, cut also a little slit towards the belly. Out of these take his guts; and keep his liver, which you are to shred very small, with thyme, sweet marjoram, and a little winter-savory; to these put some pickled oysters, and some anchovies, two or three, both these last whole, for the anchovies will melt, and the oysters should not; to these you must add also a pound of sweet butter, which you are to mix with the herbs that are shred, and let them all be well salted. If the Pike be more than a yard long, then you may put into these herbs more than a pound, or if he be less, thus mixed, with a blade or two of mace, then less butter will suffice: These, being must be put into the Pike's belly and then his belly so sewed up as to keep all the butter in his belly if it be possible; if not, then as much as you possibly can. But take not off the scales. Then you are to thrust the spit through his mouth, out at his tail. And then take four or five or six split sticks, or very thin laths, and a convenient quantity of tape or filleting; these laths are to be tied round about the Pike's body from his head to his tail, and the tape tied somewhat thick, to prevent his breaking or falling off from the spit. Let him be roasted very leisurely; and often basted with claret wine and anchovies and butter mixed together; and also with what moisture falls from him into the pan. When you have roasted him sufficiently you are to hold under him, when you unwind or cut the tape that ties him, such a dish as you purpose to eat him out of; and let him fall into it with the sauce that is roasted in his belly; and by this means the Pike will be kept unbroken and complete. Then, to the sauce which was within, and also that sauce in the pan, you are to add a fit quantity of the best butter, and to squeeze the juice of three or four oranges. Lastly, you may either put it into the Pike, with the oysters, two cloves of garlick, and take it whole