THE UNITED STATES LITERARY GAZETTE.

Published on the first and fifteenth day of every month, by Cummings, Hilliard, & Co. No. 1 Cornhill, Boston.-Terms, $5 per annum, payable in July. VOL. I.

REVIEWS.

Lionel Lincoln; or, The Leaguer of Boston.
In two Volumes. By the Author of the
Pioneers, Pilot, &c. New York. 1825.

12mo.

BOSTON, MARCH 1, 1825.

No. 22.

els, the reader, on the first introduction of bled of green fields, upon the strength of a personage, was generally favoured with an experience which was limited to an a minute account of his character, which area of an hundred feet, railed in with iron indeed he could not often have learned by and surrounded by flag-stones. But a series any other method; a part, by the way, of novels now implies a series of journeys. which veteran devourers of novels were apt The descriptions of an hundred pages may to skip, and most persons to forget before cost the author a trip of as many miles. As the reading class of the community in- they had made much progress. Authors In short, in these critical days, whether the creases in numbers and in wealth, the de- at present avoid committing themselves novelists deal with persons or things, they mand for new works of imagination neces- in this way, and prefer leaving it to the are compelled to paint from nature, instead sarily increases with it; and this has had the reader's ingenuity to discover the charac- of making new copies of bad pictures. effect of bringing into the market many ar-ter of each, by his language and conduct. The faculty of giving to a story that ticles of home manufacture. The love of So that if the latter should happen to mis-dramatic interest, which arises from variety fame, which was balanced in the minds of take, in any instance, the design, his own of character, forcible delineation, and picmany by diffidence and fear of loss, has dullness may come in for a share of that turesque grouping, or, in other words, the derived new energies from the hope of blame, which, before, fell wholly upon the powers of observation, discrimination, and profit. Of the supply thus produced, a author's want of observation. One conse- description are possessed by Mr Cooper in considerable portion has been of inferior quence of this new method is, that, as the a very high degree; and it is with national quality. This might have been foreseen; characters are, or, at least, are intended pride and pleasure that we see these powers but it was also to be expected, that, as the to be drawn from real life, the story not employed upon supjects so worthy of them. competition continued, some minds would unfrequently is totally destitute of a regu- Brief as is the period since history first saw be called into action, of ability sufficient to lar, impeccable, and all-accomplished hero, our infant nation cradled in a howling wilcommand a share of the praise and profit or heroine. This is an evil of magnitude derness, she has found much to tell of deeds attending upon excellence in this popular to those who were brought up in the days of high emprize. She offers to the novelist pursuit; whose success would encourage when the Mortimers and Belvilles were in abundance of materials,—the harvest is rich themselves to go on and improve, and fashion. But these inimitable patterns of enough, and we rejoice to welcome labourers others to follow. square-toed perfection are now regarded as so worthy to gather it. We are glad to be very uninteresting fellows. We can on- able to greet an American author, in terms ly be pleased with the representation of of good hearty commendation, instead of that man, as nature made him, a being subject cautious and somewhat dubious praise, which to affections and passions, capable of good- we are too often called on to bestow upon ness and greatness, but variable and err- works, which, as honest Andrew Fairservice ing, whose thread is a mingled yarn, and observes, "are ower bad for blessing, and whose virtues and vices alternately ennoble ower gude for banning," without a good and debase him. deal of neutralizing qualification.

Such expectations have been justified by the result. We have had a considerable and rapidly increasing number of American authors. A large proportion of their works, it must be admitted, are but indifferent, when compared with those of their British prototypes. But some among them have been such as the critics, on either side of the Atlantic, have ventured to praise, and, what is to the author's purpose, the public delighted to read.

The natural or artificial objects, amid which the incidents occur, must likewise be delineated with that force of colouring, and minute accuracy of detail, which identify the particular scene of action, and for want of which, the same forests have frowned, and the same dungeons yawned for thousands of heroes to seek their re cesses, and the same ruinous stair-ways and corridors echoed, while the self-moving clock struck one, to fright the souls of countless heroines.

The following is an outline of the story of the work before us. Lionel Lincoln, a native of Boston, becoming entitled, on the failure of male heirs in a direct line, to a baronetcy and large estate in England, sails for that country, for the purpose of taking possession. He leaves behind him his wife and infant, in the care of his aunt and godmother, Mrs Lechmere. In the same house is a young woman, whom he had seduced, previous to his marriage, and by whom he had also a son. On his return, he finds his wife dead, and, what is worse, he is informed by his aunt, that she had been unfaithful, and this information is confirmed by the oath of the young woman abovementioned, Abigail Pray. The motive of the former in fabricating this story, for it proves to be unfounded, was, by diminishing his sorrow for the loss of his wife, to render him more susceptible of the charms of her daughter, whom she was ambitious of the bird's nest, evinced the unerring na- beholding as the lady of a baronet, and the ture of the instinct of their framers. With head of the house of Lincoln. The latter, just so much knowledge of sunshine, as they on her part, hoped to regain her former could obtain through the medium of the hold on his affections, and become Lady smoke of a metropolis, they dwelt for pages Lincoln herself. Both seem to have forupon the glories of an Italian sky, and bab-gotten the proverbial thanklessness of the

The taste of the novel-readers of this age requires something very different from the delicate distresses and complicated stories, with their machinery of trap-doors and dark-lanterns, which puzzled the brains and harrowed up the souls of more romantic generations. We are not disappointed, if the plot is something less than inscrutable to any but the reader of the five last pages, nor dissatified, if the incidents are This requisition imposes upon modern neither very crowded nor very improbable. authors the necessity of actually seeing The character of the novels of the present day the places, which they intend to describe. is more closely allied to that of the drama, in Their predecessors could travel in their garthe course of which characters, imaginary in- rets, as the impudent fabricator of the addeed in that situation, make their entrances ventures of Damberger did through the and exits, and play their parts in accord- centre of Africa, describing successive ance with motives and passions, which have hordes of Boshmen, as identical as so many a real existence in the human heart. The troops of buffaloes, and successive kraals author has only to invent, or, if he pleases, of Hottentots, which, like the bee-hive and to borrow the outlines of a story, which shall place his actors in circumstances favourable to the powerful development of their particular ruling passions, and to make them speak and act, in such situations, consistently and naturally. In the older nov

Job does wish him good health-Job loves the
king, only Job don't love rum.'
The officer had approached so nigh as to perceive
that the whole scene was one of disorder and abuse,
and pushing aside the crowd of excited and deriding
soldiers, who composed the throng, he broke at once
into the centre of the circle.

This half-witted Job is rescued from the

office of a bearer of ill-news, and both expe-witted! Mercy on poor Job! Oh! you make his
rienced the correctness of the adage. Instead flesh creep!"
of restoring Lincoln's cheerfulness, they un-terrupted a hoarse, angry voice; to refuse to drink
I'll cut the heart from the mutinous knave,' in
settled his reason; and, after various adven- the health of his majesty!"
tures, he becomes the tenant of a private mad-
house in England. After the lapse of some
years, his legitimate son, Lionel, goes thither,
becomes an officer in the British service, and
returns to Boston, a short time previous to
the commencement of the revolutionary
war, accompanied by his father, who had
contrived to escape from his confinement.
He is unknown, however, to his son, who
has not seen him for fifteen years. His
lunacy, it may be observed, is of a partial
kind, and is not suspected, being principally
shown by an extravagant zeal for liberty,
which was not likely to be considered mad-
ness in Boston fifty years ago. The work
opens with the arrival of their vessel, and
a description of the town and harbour,
the former occupied by a military garrison,
and deprived of its commercial bustle, by
the well known closure of the port, in con-
sequence of the refractory disposition of its
inhabitants. From this description we shall

make our first extract.

The rounded heights of Dorchester were radiant with the rays of the luminary, that had just sunk behind their crest, and streaks of paler light were

soldiers by Major Lincoln, and proves, in
the sequel, to be the son of the baronet by
Abigail Pray. He conducts them both to
the well known triangular warehouse in
Dock Square, then useless, of course, for
its original purpose, and serving as a city
of refuge for his wretched mother. She
testifies some alarm at the sound of the
baronet's voice, but does not recognise him,
and he takes up his abode without ceremo-
ny in the warehouse. Major Lincoln is
conducted to the house of Mrs Lechmere,
in Tremont Street, the same that is now
standing, and celebrated as the residence
of Sir Henry Vane nearly two centuries
ago. Here he is introduced to the princi-
pai females of the story, Cecil Dynevor,
the grandchild of Mrs Lechmere, and
Agnes Danforth, her cousin; the latter a

playing along the waters, and gilding the green bitter whig, who regards him, of course,
summits of the islands, which clustered across the
mouth of the estuary. Far in the distance were with some coolness. After a reasonable
to be seen the tall spires of the churches, rising out interim, he falls in love with Cecil, and ac-
of the deep shadows of the town, with their vanes companies the troops on their disastrous
glittering in the sun-beams, while a few rays of expedition to Concord. He is also present
strong light were dancing about the black beacon,
which reared itself high above the conical peak at the battle of Bunker Hill, where he re-
that took its name from the circumstance of sup-ceives a wound which confines him to his
porting this instrument of alarms. Several large bed for many months. His love is no way
vessels were anchored among the islands and be- diminished by the attentions of Cecil, dur-
fore the town, their dark hulls, at each moment, ing this period, and his marriage follows
becoming less distinct through the haze of evening, hard upon his recovery.
while the summits of their long lines of masts were
It is attended
yet glowing with the marks of day. From each of with disastrous omens, and their return
these sullen ships, from the low fortification which from church precedes the death of Mrs
rose above a small island deep in the bay, and from Lechmere, who has likewise been ill for
various elevations in the town itself, the broad, silky some time, but a few minutes. The scene
folds of the flag of England were yet waving in the at her death-bed, at which the baronet sud-
currents of the passing air. The young man was
suddenly aroused from gazing at this scene, by the denly appears, works upon the nerves of
eyes were yet tracing the descent of the proud fever of the moment and for a purpose
quick reports of the evening guns, and while his Major Lincoln, and he is persuaded, in the
symbols of the British power, from their respective which we have not room to explain, to ac-
places of display, he felt his arm convulsively company the maniac to the other side of
pressed by the hand of his aged fellow-passenger.
the river, where he is taken prisoner by the
The passengers were hardly landed on Americans, and where we shall leave him
the wharf, when they are introduced to the for the present and return to Tremont
knowledge of a person who makes a prin- Street. Here the bride, thus unaccounta-
cipal figure in these volumes, in the follow-bly deserted by her husband, is in a state to
ing spirited and highly dramatic manner.

den and violent shrieks, that burst rudely on the The reply of the youth was interrupted by sudstillness of the place, chilling the very blood of those who heard them, with their piteousness. The quick and severe blows of a lash were blended with the exclamations of the sufferer, and rude oaths, with hoarse execrations, from various voices, were united in the uproar, which appeared to be at no great distance. By a common impulse, the whole party broke away from the spot, and moved rapidly up the wharf in the direction of the sounds. As they approached the buildings, a group was seen collected around the man who thus broke the charm of evening by his cries, interrupting his wailings with their ribaldry, and encouraging his tormentors

to proceed.

Mercy, mercy, for the sake of the blessed God,

be easier imagined than described. She
rival of the keeper of the baronet, who
is encouraged to follow him, by the ar-
had made a voyage to America in pursuit
of him. They pass over to the American
camp, and find Major Lincoln at Washing-
ton's quarters. By the assistance of the
baronet, who is in high favour with the
Americans, he is enabled to escape, and,
after some difficulties, they again arrive in
Boston, and proceed to the warehouse, then
occupied by Abigail Pray, her ideot son,
who is dying with the small-pox, and a
friend of Major Lincoln. The death of
Job is followed by his mother's repentant

confession afhan farmer neriume thanal

which would have be for the sudden appear abovementioned, who tacked, thrown down, a by the baronet, from w ticate himself by rep capes, his antagonist di and the story closes w Lionel and Cecil for

evacuation of Boston b Beside the characte

cerned in the conduct there are various acce no means the least in M'Fuse, an Irish gre Peter Polwarth, a corp in the front rank amor respect to the former that the author shou necessary to kill him,

ume. We think the cl and that of Seth Sage, lord, among the author That of Polwarth, tho very well executed, is word from the Captain's little "overdone." This is indeed one of Mr Coo one that experience will different in that partic

site, tameness. In fact improving in each succ is less caricature in the in the preceding. We single extract, to give three characters abover as of the spirit with w of the work is conducted

air of magisterial authority, station at his side, which appe double duties of a judge and a formidable tribunal Seth Sage to have been committed in th would seem, to answer for ce norant that his landlord had no of the late exchange, and curi the suppressed roguery he cou ceeding dialogue. mure countenances of is fi Lionel dropped his pen, and

M'Fuse was seated at a t

Now answer to vour offend

with a wise name,' M'Fuse co that did not fail, by its harsh some of that awe, which, by t speaker's eye, it would seem the compunctions of a Christia duce-speak out with the free Why should I not send you at ye may get your deserts on thr without delay, for the love y the one being laid cross-wise fo nience. If you have a contra angular daiformities.'

The wags did not altogether Seth betraying a good deal mor was usual for the man to exhibi of

uncommon peril. After clea looking about him, to gather fr answered with a very commend spectators which way their sym

'Because it's ag'in all law.' Have done with your interm

of the law,' cried M'Fuse, and est gentlemen with its knavery. gospel you should be thinking of,

more than so many proctors in

To your purpose, Mac,' interrupted Polwarth, is well to devote to an unfortunate being who perceived that the erratic feelings of his friend of that description. His appearance, were beginning already to lead him from the desired when assaulted by the grenadiers, in point; or I will propound the matter myself, in a the second volume, is highly dramatic, style that would do credit to a mandamus counsellor.' but we hope the conduct of the grenadiers themselves on that occasion has little foundation in nature. The original of this character we suppose to have been an ideot, who went by the singular n me of Johnny Yanks, and who was shot by the British troops on their return from Concord, as he stood, waving his hat in triumph, on a stone wall.

The mandamuses are all ag'in the charter, and the too,' continued Seth, whose courage increased as the dialogue bore more directly upon his political principles-and to my mind it's quite convincing that if ministers calculate largely on upholding them, there will be great disturbances, if not a proper fight in the land; for the whole country is in a blaze!'

Disturbances, thou immovable iniquity; thou quiet assassin!' roared M'Fuse; 'do ye call a fight

of a day a disturbance, or do ye tar'm skulking behind fences, and laying the muzzle of a musket on the head of Job Pray, and the breech on a mullen-stalk, while ye draw upon a fellow-creature, a commendable method of fighting! Now answer me to the truth, and disdain all lying, as ye would 'ating any thing but cod on a Saturday, who were the two men that fired into my very countenance, from the unfortunate situation among the mullens that I have detailed to you?'

'Pardon me, captain M'Fuse,' said Polwarth, if I say that your zeal and indignation-run ahead of your discretion. If we alarm the prisoner in this manner, we may defeat the ends of justice. Besides, sir, there is a reflection contained in your language, to which I must dissent. A real dumb is not to be despised, especially when served up in a wrapper, and between two coarser fish to preserve the steamI have had my private meditations on the subject of getting up a Saturday's club, in order to enjoy the bounty of the Bay, and for improving the cookery of the cod!'

And let me tell you, captain Polwarth,' returned the grenadier, cocking his eye fiercely at the other that your epicurean propensities lead you to the verge of cannibalism; for sure it may be called that, when you speak of 'ating while the life of a fellow cr'ature is under a discussion for its termination-'

'I conclude,' interrupted Seth, who was greatly averse to all quarreling, and who thought he saw the symptoms of a breach between his judges, the captain wishes to know who the two men were that fired on him a short time before he got the hit in

the shoulder?"

A short time, ye marvellous hypocrite!-'twas as quick as a pop and slap could make it' Perhaps there might be some mistake, for a great many of the troops were much disguised-' Do ye insinuate that I got drunk before the enemies of my king! roared the grenadier-Harkye, Mister Sage, I ask you in a genteel way, who the

two men were that fired on me, in the manner da

tailed, and remember that a man may tire of putting questions which are never answered!'

Why,' returned Seth, who, however expert at prevarication, eschewed, with religious horror, a direct lie-I pretty much conclude that they-the captain is sure the place he means was just beyond Menotomy?'

As sure as men can be,' said Polwarth, who possess the use of their eyes.'

Then captain Polwarth can give testimony to

the fact?'

I believe Major Lincoln's horse carries a small bit of your lead to this moment, Master Sage.' Seth yielded to this accumulation of evidence against him, and knowing, moreover, that the grenadier had literally made him a prisoner in the fact of renewing his fire, he sagaciously determined to make a merit of necessity, and candidly to acknowledse his agency in inflicting the wounds. The ut

mit him to say, was

The peculiar state of the country and the
feelings of the colonists; the night-march
of the troops to Lexington and their dis-
astrous retreat; the battle and storin of the
Bunker Hill redoubt; and the circumstan-
ces of a besieged town, are all described
with force, feeling, and spirit. In short,
Mr Cooper has selected, in this instance, a
period and a subject replete with interest,
and has done great justice to both.
The following extract is from the ac-
count of the retreat from Concord.
'On-on with the advance!' cried fifty voices
out of the cloud of smoke and dust that was
ing up the hill, on whose side this encounter oc-

curred.

cipitated the war. It was the major of marines,* who sat looking at the sight, for a minute, with an eye as vacant as the one that seemed to throw back buried his rowels in the flanks of his horse, and his wild gaze, and then rousing from his trance, he disappeared in the smoke that enveloped a body of the grenadiers, waving his sword on high, and shouting

'On-push on with the advance!'

The third, and the successful attack of the troops upon the defences of Bunker Hill is thus described.

Lionel had taken post in his regiment, but marching on the skirt of the column, he commanded a view of most of the scene of battle. In his front moved a battalion, reduced to a handful of men in the previous assaults. Behind these came a party of the marine guards, from the shipping, led by their own veteran Major; and next followed the Lionel looked in vain for the features of the gooddejected Nesbitt and his corps, amongst whom natured Polwarth.

Similar columns marched on

their right and left, encirling three sides of the redoubt by their battalions.

A few minutes brought him in full view of that humble and unfinished mound of earth, for the possession of which so much blood had that day been spilt in vain. It lay, as before, still as if none breathed within its bosom, though a terrific row of mov-dark tubes were arrayed along its top, following the movements of the approaching columns, as the eyes of the imaginary charmers of our own wilderness are said to watch their victims. As the uproar of the artillery again grew fainter, the crash of falling streets, and the appalling sounds of the conflagration, on their left, became more audible. Immense volumes of black smoke issued from the smouldering ruins, and bellying outward, fold beyond fold, it overhung the work in a hideous cloud, casting its gloomy shadow across the place of blood.

Hurrah! for the Royal Irish!' shouted M'Fuse, at the head of the dark column from the conflagration.

Hurrah!' echoed a well-known voice from the

silent mound: let them come on to Breed's; the people will teach 'em the law!'

In this manner the war continued to roll slowly onward, following the weary and heavy footsteps of the soldiery, who had now toiled for many miles, surrounded by the din of battle, and leaving in their path the bloody impressions of their footsteps. Lionel was enabled to trace their route, far towards the north, by the bright red spots, which lay scattered in alarming numbers along the highway, and in the fields through which the troops occasionally moved. He even found time, in the intervals of A strong column was now seen ascending, as if rest, to note the difference in the characters of the from out the burning town, and the advance of the combatants. Whenever the ground or the circum- whole became quick and spirited. A low call ran stances admitted of a regular attack, the dying con- through the platoons, to note the naked weapons of fidence of the troops would seem restored, and their adversaries, and it was followed by the cry of they moved up to the charge with the bold car-To the bayonet! to the bayonet!' riage which high discipline inspires, rending the air with shouts, while their enemies melted before their power in sullen silence, never ceasing to use their weapons however, with an expertness that rendered them doubly dangerous. The direction of the columns frequently brought the troops over ground that had been sharply contested in front, and the victims of these short struggles came un der the eyes of the detachment. It was necessary to turn a deaf ear to the cries and prayers of many fear written on every feature of their countenanwounded soldiers, who, with horror and abject ces, were the helpless witnesses of the retreating files of their comrades. On the other hand, the American lay in his blood, regarding the passing detachment with a stern and indignant eye, that appeared to look far beyond his individual suffering. Over one body, Lionel pulled the reins of his horse, and he paused a moment to consider the spectacle. It was the lifeless form of a man, whose white locks, hollow cheeks, and emaciated frame, denoted that the bullet which had stricken him to the earth had anticipated the irresistible decrees of time but a very few days. He had fallen on his back, and his glazed eye expressed, even in death, the honest resentment he had felt while living; and his palsied hand continued to grasp the fire-lock, old and time-worn, like its owner, with which he had taken the field in behalf of his country.

'Where can a contest end which calls such

most, however, that his cautious habits would per-champions to its aid!' exclaimed Lionel, observing
'Seeing there can't well be any mistake, I seem
to think, the two men were chiefly Job and I'

The character of Job Pray is well supported, though, in our opinion, he occupies rather a larger share in the work, than it

that the shadow of another spectator fell across the
wan features of the dead-who can tell where
this torrent of blood can be stayed, or how many
are to be its victims!"

covered that he had unwittingly put this searching
question to the very man whose rashness had pre-

Receiving no answer, he raised his eyes and dis

Men think at such moments with the rapidity of lightning, and Lionel had even fancied his comrades in possession of the work, when the terrible stream of fire flashed in the faces of the men in front.

'Push on with theth,' cried the veteran Major of Marines- push on, or 18th will get the honour of the day!'

'We cannot,' murmured the soldiers of the -th; their fire is too heavy!'

Then break, and let the marines pass through

you!'

The feeble battalion melted away, and the warriors of the deep, trained to conflicts of hand to hand, sprang forward, with a loud shout, in their places. The Americans, exhausted of their ammunition, now sunk sullenly back, a few hurling stones at their foes, in desperate indignation. The cannon of the British had been brought to enfilade their short breast-work, which was no longer tenable; and as the columns approached closer to the low rampart, it became a mutual protection to the adverse parties.

M'Fuse, rushing up to the trifling ascent, which
Hurrah! for the Royal Irish again shouted

was but of little more than his own height.

'Hurrah!' repeated Pitcairn, waving his sword on another angle of the work the day's our

own!'
One more sheet of flame issued out of the bosom
* Pitcairn.

of the work and all those brave men, who had emulated the examples of their officers, were swept away, as though a whirlwind had passed along The grenadier gave his war-cry once more before he pitched headlong among his enemies; while Pitcairn fell back into the arms of his own child. The cry of forward, 47th,' rung through their ranks, and in their turn this veteran battalion gallantly mounted the ramparts. In the shallow ditch Lionel passed the dying marine, and caught the dying and despairing look from his eyes, and in another instant he found himself in the presence of his foes. As company followed company into the defenceless redoubt, the Americans sullenly retired by its rear, keeping the bayonets of the soldiers at bay with clubbed muskets and sinewy arms. When the whole issued upon the open ground, the husbandmen received a close and fatal fire from the battalions which were now gathering around them on three sides. A scene of wild and savage confusion then succeeded to the order of the fight, and many fatal blows were given and taken, the mêlée rendering the use of fire-arms nearly impossible for several

minutes.

with Coleridge's pet phrase, "the reading | babble about them quite too much. They public." We cannot speak of one of them claim to be exquisitely alive to beauty of without speaking of all; and their peculiari all kinds, and rave about things sweet and ties, with the space they fill in modern litera- lovely without stint; but their devotion to ture, make them worthy of some notice. the tender and pretty is not true to nature, All tale-makers by profession, must love or rather it belongs to a poor, weakly, the marvellous; but the authors of these sickened nature; moreover the beauty works differ from their fellow-wanderers in which they do affect, is not of the purest the land of fiction, in the character of this and noblest kind; they would think the propensity. They seek the marvellous Medicean Venus improved by putting a earnestly, obstinately; but they seek that delicate peach bloom upon her cheek, and which is strange in sentiment and passion, a rosebud to her nose, and dropping her and not in circumstance and incident; they eyelids with an expression of melancholy affect the wonders of the world within, and tenderness. So, too, their language is for busy themselves far less with external things. the most part quaint and affected; they Love is in their works, as in all others of the seek for obsolete words and idioms, and imagination, a master passion, and all or al- have pet phrases, and are a little apt to most all the interest of the tale is connected write as if an accumulation of strange and with it; but they speak almost exclusively affected expressions was fine writing of the of the workings of this passion, of the forms most original character. Nevertheless large it assumes, the thoughts and feelings which parts of many of their works are eminently But in no place, as has been demonstrat-grow out of it, and its growth, and progress, interesting and eloquent. The reason of ed in the Pilot, is Mr Cooper so much at and power in the heart. But little effort is this is, that some of these authors have home, as among the sons of Neptune. The employed to make the events which occa- minds of quite a superior order, and work young midshipman, though present but for a sion it, or disturb or prosper it, interesting hard in their vocation; and every thing few pages, is distinguished by those master in themselves. The story is important only which bears the distinct impress of a strong ly touches, which mark the favourite sub- as it is the foundation for the descriptions. and original intellect, must be interesting. ject of an artist. The execution of the va- In this respect they may not seem to differ But the efforts of these master minds might, rious characters is of course unequal. That from all the best modern novels; but in the as we think, have been made more producof Burgoyne particularly, we regard as a Waverley novels-to take them as an in- tive of pleasure and profit to their readers stance the descriptions are, and are in- and to themselves; we have always believed tended to be, of exciting and natural that the popularity which these books atcharacter. The power of the author of tained, was excessive, and could not be these tales, is manifested in the truth and force with which he portrays, not merely permanent possible, but probable passions, and shows about equal in its literary merits to the The "Human Heart" seems to us just them in their effects. His best characters average of its class. It contains eight tales, are singular from their strength or peculiar most of which are abundantly old. For traits; but they are all such as the circum- instance, the second story relates the instances in which they live and which have famous brutality of Colonel Kirk, who seformed them, may well make of human be-duced the sister of a prisoner by the promise ings. But the writers of the works which of pardon for her brother, and showed to her form that class to which the book now un- the corpse of that brother, hanging from der notice belongs, make their heroes and the gallows, when she had fulfilled her exheroines love and hate, and hope and fear, torted promise. But the last tale is the and enjoy and suffer excessively, that is, far most singular, and to us the most interestbeyond the occasion. Scott makes his peo-ing. It is founded upon, or rather suggested ple act out their feelings; but these writers by the following passage of an old book. make theirs talk about them. To close this contrast, we should say, that Scott seeks for haunted by a most strange phantom, the presence 'I once did heare of a great foreign lord, who was that which is striking in the true and prob- of which was so dreadful. that it drove him for the able, and endeavours to paint it truly and time to madnesse. Some folke would say that the forcibly; while these writers aim at describ-nobleman did only see himself, or that his conscience ing eloquently state sof the mind and heart which are uncommon, and indicate extra ordinary intellectual and moral constitutions, and owe most of their interest to their strangeness.

failure.

We had marked several faults of minor importance in the course of two several perusals of this work; they are principally however of a kind, which has been noticed in various criticisms of his preceding works. We are, morever, glad to avail ourselves of the excuse afforded us by the consideration of the space already occupied by this arti cle to omit this disagreeable part of our office. We trust that our readers will find the extracts from this work sufficiently interesting to compensate the omission of the strictures, whose place they have anticipated. It remains for us only to say a few words of the relative merits of this, when compared with the former works of the same author. Considered as a work of genius it is perhaps superior to the Spy, and inferior to the Pioneers or the Pilot, while in point of literary execution it excels them all; and if it shall be decided to be less interesting on the whole than the two latter, it must be admitted that it contains fewer parts that are absolutely tedious, and fewer offences against good taste. We hope he may find, in the remaining provinces, subjects as good as that afforded by the "Bay Colony," and we have no doubt he will use them to as good purpose.

did appear before his eyes in a human shape.— the words of the learned Master Burton, to bethink Therefore, young men, I would admonish ye, in yourselves, that "after many pleasant daies, and fortunate adventures, and merry tides, this con science doth not at last arrest us.-As the prodigal pany, jovial entertainment, but a cruel reckoning in son had dainty fare, sweet music, at first, merry com the end, as bitter as wormwood."

The Young Man's Looking-Glasse." fierce and stern emotion, and strong deIt exhibits rather more endeavour after scription, than is usual with writers of this and its brethren; and as it may also amuse class; but it will serve reasonably well to our readers, we shall make a long extract

Their great want is of truth and simplicity; and yet they suppose, or affect to suppose, that they are true to nature and simple as children. They love external nature, and are delighted with natural objects altogether beyond measure. We do not doubt, that in the love and pleasure which they so is much sincerity; but we give them credit vehemently and perpetually express, there for mingling with it a sufficiency of affectation. Rainbows and flowers are beautiful, but they are fleeting things, and the joy which their presence may give is hardly consciousness many long, weary hours before I worth living for altogether; and though could speak, and I saw about my bed many pleas green fields are fair to look upon, one maying forms; I could just distinguish that their gar

illustrate the characteristics of this book

from it.

I had been ill almost unto death. I awoke into

ments were those of some religious order. One of my shoulders, and the face that was nine, yet not
them, whose countenance was very mild, whose my own, close to my face; and if, by chance, I
voice was like gentle music, would sometimes stand stood alone in the midst of some brilliant saloon,
and gaze upon me, or touch my burning hands with the phantom would approach me and link his arm
he soft, cool fingers. She was the superior of the within mine, and look round at the company, and
sisterhood, and had lived since her youth (a period then point its finger in my face, and say, They are
of thirty years) within that convent. They quitted all staring at us." Such a reality was attached to
the room, and for the first time the phantom ap- his presence, that I could never for the time per-
peared. He stood beside the bed in my own form. suade myself we were not observed.--I fled to
Ill and pale he seemed, but the working of a stronger solitude-the phantom went with me. Once, when
power than sickness was seen upon his face. He walking on the shore of the Mediterranean, far from
sat down on the bed close to me. I had no fear of any abode of man, with a broad barren heath on one
him at first, but I shrunk away rather in anger than side of me, and the boundless ocean on the other, I
affright-I was then in a strangely confused state. perceived a little boat rocking to and fro on the
I fell into a heavy sleep, but a low, distinct voice calm waves; two men were in it, and struck, I sup-
soon awoke me, and I beheld the same figure sitting pose, by the richness of my dress, they landed, and
beside me. As my eyes opened, he drew closer attempted to rob me. I slew them both; and,
and bent down his face over mine. I started up. scarcely knowing what I did, leaped into the empty
but the face was still close to mine; and when, ex- boat, and, raising the little sail, put out to sea. I
hausted with the effort, I dropped back on the bed, sailed on, far from the sight of any shore, and began
it was bent over me, just as before. I raised my to hope that I should die upon the wide desolate
hand to thrust it away, but the phantom face could waste of waters. I saw with delight the dark clouds
not be thrust away-it was even as the thin air. I gathering in heaps about the horizon, to the wind-
shut my eyes, but then I felt a damp and icy breath- ward-I saw them spread over the whole sky. The
ing all over my face. I resisted no longer; a voice, sea rose in mountains beneath me, or dashed the
in every tone my own voice, spake to me from lips little boat into chasms of black and horrible depth.
that seemed also mine. I cannot remember the The lightning rushed in streams of pale and forked
multitude of words which were poured out in cease-fire from above; the thunder crackled, and roared
less confusion into my ears, till my every sense was
maddened-nay, till at last I lay wholly stunned
and senseless. Sometimes the voice was loud with
rage- sometimes the phantom placed its hand upon
my shoulders, and bent its face so close to mine.
that I could feel it draw up the breath from my
lungs, and stop their motion; and then it whispered
its low deep curses, till my heart felt blistered by
them:-sometimes the mouth would open widely,
and a loud and insulting laugh came pealing and
rattling down the throat, till I raved with fury-
then again the countenance would become calm,
and beam all over with smiles, and sweet gentle
tones would scarce part the lips; but every word
that was spoken would be to describe some shame-
less event of my infamous life; and then, if my rage
burst out, the face would smile, the voice whisper
even more calmly-calmly-calmly-ay, till the
smile became a sneer, a cold, bitter, heartless sneer.
When I awoke again, I almost expected to see
the face that seemed mine, but was not my own,
bent over me. It was not there, but night had
come on, and the pale silvery moonshine streamed
into my chamber. Some kind hand had opened the
lattice, and placed on its sill a vase full of orange-
flowers: the fresh cool air bathed all my heated
face. and brought with it the pure fragrance of the
flowers. All was silent around me, till, with a
gradual swell, a sweet and solemn music rose from
the organ of the chapel, and the clear liquid voices
of the nuns blended into a rich stream of harmony.
I felt too calm, too happy, and with restless fear I
rose up--I looked round the chamber-the face was
nowhere to be seen. I laid down my head, and a
shower of tears gushed from my eyes. My senses
were soothed, but my soul was not The voice that
was mine, and yet not my own, spake as a friend
speaks who is fearful to disturb one: I am here,'
it said; you shall not miss me long.'

was then strikingly handsome, though I was always
too proud to be vain. I soon found that my alliance
was courted by many of my noble countrymen, but
I never had a thought of marrying, till I beheld a
young foreigner, an English maiden of high rank,
who had come to Naples for the recovery of her
health. I beheld her for the first time sitting in one
of the marble porticoes of my own palace, and my
heart whispered to me with a tumultuous enthu-
siasm, that she should become the mistress of the
abode she thus graced with her presence. The
Lady Gertrude L had accompanied her father
and some Italian noblemen to see a celebrated pic-
ture by Correggio, then in my passession. She had
been rather fatigued in ascending the beautiful emi-
nence on which my palace stood, and had sat down
in a portico overlooking the glorious Bay. I had
never beheld so lovely a being. As I gazed upon
her, I could almost have persuaded myself that she
was some perfect statue of Parian marble; her
delicately slender form--her white garments, flow-
ing over the marble pavement-her fair hands,
clasped together and resting on her knees--her
pale sweet face, bending downward as if she had
been lost in some pleasing day-dream. But there
needed not the deep dark blue of her eyes, the
wavy hair, many shades darker than that which is
called light brown; there needed not the pale rose-
colour of her parted lips, to tell me that I beheld no
statue. I saw those eyes turned with the full gaze
of their soft lustre on me--I saw the rich, eloquent
blood flushing her cheek and lip as she spoke to
me--I heard the voice which gave new sweetness
to the musical accents of my own sweetest language.
The Lady Gertrude was not displeased with the at-
tentions which, from the first moment of our meet-
ing, I never ceased to pay to her.

in peals, which I thought would split the world
around me: but the death I longed for was not
nigh. The storm cleared away, and the little bark
floated calmly upon the quiet waters. I began to
think that the phantom had quitted me, but all sud-
denly I beheld a hand clasped about the side of the
boat, and then the phantom climbed up leisurely
into it, and sat down beside me. For days we
drifted about upon the waveless sea, with a sky of
dark and cloudless blue above us; the phantom all Not many months had passed away, when I be-
the time sitting in silence beside me, with his eyes held the gentle lady sitting again under that marble
fixed on me-never turned from me. At last his portico which looked over the Bay of Naples; and
presence was so insupportable that I sprang over- I heard her whisper to me, that I was the dearest
board. I was not drowned-I know not how it was, object of her affections on earth. I kissed her pure
but the boat came again between me and the waters; lips, for she was my wife, in answer to her express-
and the phantom, clasping the side, climbed in, and ions of the tenderest affection that woman ever
sat down by me. He broke silence then, and said, felt.-And was it possible, you will say, that I
Despair, but not death! As he spoke, I felt the could be happy? I was not happy; but since my
whole face of the sea sinking under me, and with return to Italy, I had seldom seen the phantom. He
the sinking of the smooth shining waters, the boat had not left me, but I had almost begun to believe
sank also: lower and lower, deeper and deeper it that I had been the victim of some mental delirium,
sank, till, at a great distance, a ridge of black rocks and that the being I so dreaded had no actual exis-
was gradually revealed, enclosing the waters on all tence. He had only absented himself, to bring
sides. The boat itself sank not an inch in the sea, more poignant agony on his return. One evening
but the waters continued slowly sinking till the my wife had retired to rest at an early hour, owing
dark rocks had risen like the Alps around us; nay, to the still delicate state of her health. I sat down
even till I could look up, as from the bottom of a near the open lattice of her chamber, and having
narrow well, and see the stars glittering as at mid-seen her sink into a gentle sleep, I took up a vol-
night. The phantom laughed at the consternation ume of Ariosto, and I began to read. I had read
I betrayed. Hell is deeper!' he shouted loudly; but for a few minutes, when a voice spoke to me
and his laugh and his words were echoed over and loudly. I looked up, and beheld the form that was
over again from the black and stupendous rocks mine, and yet not my own, standing erect before
which enclosed us. I knew nothing more, till I me with an attitude and look of insolent defiance:
found myself lying amid the shattered planks of the Come with me, I need your presence,' he ex-
boat upon the shore of a foreign land. I started up, claimed, still more loudl; and I looked up to him
for a person was lying close beside me. I was for with my finger on my lips, pointing at the same
the moment all bewildered, but the person lying at time with the other hand to the bed on which my
my feet stretched his limbs, as one awaking from a wife lay sleeping Oh! do not fear,' replied the
heavy slumber, and yawning, as he slowly thrust phantom, in a voice even louder than before, 'I
away the thick long hair, which had fallen over his shall not disturb her-you know that I do not in-
eyes, he looked full in my face and said. I cannot trude on any other but yourself. We are one,'
sleep'-I recognized at once the voice, the face, he adde, as, unable to resist his commands, I fol-
which were mine, yet not my own.
lowed him from the room. He led me on in silence,
and we had scarcely passed through the wood of
myrtles behind my palace, when I found myself on
the road from Berlin to the village of Pankow.*
The phantom was at my side, but, horror-struck at
perceiving whither he was leading me, I stopped
and stood still, resolutely determined not to proceed
a step farther. To my astonishment, the phantom
did not notice me, and his figure was soon lost
among the trees beside the road. My determina-
tion was soon changed, when I heard loud and re-
peated shrieks; they proceeded from the direction
in which the phantom had disappeared; they were
so piercing that they thrilled me through and

I left the convent when I was strong enough to depart yet my illness had greatly changed me. My former health seemed gone, I was an altered man, and some said that I was mad I was not mad-but the sins of my former life had taken fast hold on me. The phantom was with me at all hours, though invisible to every eye but mine: II was never at rest, for during his absence my existence soon became one agonizing dread of his appearance. He would bring before me, with minute exactness, every scene of my past life, which I would have given worlds to have forgotten forever. He was always, as I had been, the infamous hero of the scene, acting every look again with a truth that harrowed up my soul. If he did but beckon with his finger, I could not refuse to obey him. I rushed into every sort of dissipation, but he accompanied me; and in the gayest circles of the court. even when the daughters of my sovereign were conversing with me, I have seen the two hands on

Again I returned to society, but not to the profligate companions with whom I had before associated. was still little changed at heart, but I threw the veil of decorum over my public conduct. I furnished my long-deserted palace at Naples with simple magnificence I hung the walls with the finest pictures I could purchase; I adorned the colonnades with statues of immense price. I bought a valuable library, and devoted much of my time to reading. I soon gathered around me every intellectual luxury which my immense fortune could command. My palace was the theme of universal admiration; my past excesses began to be forgotten in the contemplation of my present manner of life. My family, every one knew, was one of the noblest in Italy. My person (for I had entirely recovered my health)

Pankow is about ten miles from Berlin, and is much frequented by company.