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liberty in the heart of the British empire beat feel that England has no longer to stand and set up a pompous hierarchy in the frozen wilbriety, the firmness, and the dignity with which the ocean is the friend of her best principles; of snow. No, they could not say they had enwarm and full in the bosom of our fathers; the so- against the world-that her rival on the derness. No craving governors were anxious to be sent over to our cheerless El Dorados of ice and cause of free principles struggled into existence and that, supported by America, she may couraged, patronised, or helped the pilgrims; their here, constantly found encouragement and countenance from the sons of liberty there?-Who does smile to see the despots of the continent, own cares, their own labours, their own counsels, not remember that when the pilgrims went over swelling on their iron thrones, stretch- their own blood, contrived all, achieved all, bore the sea, the prayers of the faithful British confessing their longing eyes over the eternal lim- all, sealed all. They could not afterwards fairly ors, in all the quarters of their dispersion, went it of their arrogance, and muttering their pretend to reap where they had not strewn; and over with them, while their aching eyes were as our fathers reared this broad and solid fabric strained, till the star of hope should go up in the powerless exorcisms within a circle, around with pains and watchfulness, unaided, barely tolewestern skies?---And who will ever forget that in which hover the spirits which shall one rated, it did not fall when the favour, which had that eventful struggle, which severed this mighty day tear them to pieces. always been withholden, was changed into wrath; empire from the British crown, there was not heard, when the arm, which had never supported, was throughout our continent in arms, a voice which raised to destroy. spoke louder for the rights of America, than that

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of Burke or of Chatham, within the walls of the British parliament, and at the foot of the British throne?--No, for myself, I can truly say, that after my native land, I feel a tenderness and a reverence for that of my fathers. The pride I take in my own country makes me respect that from which we are sprung. In touching the soil of England, I seem to return like a descendant to the old family seat;-to come back to the abode of an aged, the tomb of a departed parent. I acknowledge this great consanguinity of nations. The sound of my native language beyond the sea, is a music to my ear, beyond the richest strains of Tuscan softness, or Castillian majesty.-1 am not yet in a land of strangers, while surrounded by the manners, the habits, the forms, in which I have been brought up. I wander delighted through a thousand scenes, which the historians, the poets have made familiar to us, of which the names are interwoven with our earliest associations I tread with reverence the spots, where I can retrace the footsteps of our suffering fathers; the pleasant land of their birth has a claim on my heart. It seems to me a classic, yea, a holy land, rich in the memories of the great and good; the martyrs of liberty, the exiled her alds of truth; and richer as the parent of this land of promise in the west.

We cannot refrain from another long extract. We had intended to make several shorter ones, but are unwilling to mar the beauty of the following by any division or diminution.

Their banish

Methinks I see it now, that one solitary, adven turous vessel, the Mayflower of a forlorn hope, freighted with the prospects of a future state, and bound across the unknown sea. I behold it pursuing, with a thousand misgivings, the uncertain, the months pass, and winter surprises them on the tedious voyage. Suns rise and set, and weeks and deep, but brings them not the sight of the wished for shore. I see them now scantily supplied with provisions, crowded almost to suffocation in their illstored prison, delayed by calms, pursuing a circuitous route;-and now driven in fury before the raging tempest, on the high and giddy waves. The awful voice of the storm howls through the rigging. The labouring masts seem straining from their base; the dismal sound of the pumps is heard ;the ship leaps, as it were, madly, from billow to billow-the ocean breaks, and settles with engulphing floods over the floating deck, and beats with deadening, shivering weight, against the staggered vessel.-I see them, escaped from these perils, pursuing their all but desperate undertaking, and landed at last, after a five months' passage, on the ice clad rocks of Plymouth,-weak and weary from the voyage,-poorly armed, scantily provis ioned, depending on the charity of their ship-master for a draught of beer on board, drinking nothing but water on shore,-without shelter,-without means, surrounded by hostile tribes. Shut now the volume of history, and tell me, on any principle of human probability, what shall be the fate of this handful of adventurers.-Tell me, man of military science, in how many months were they all swept off by the thirty savage tribes, enumerated within the early limits of New England? Tell me, politician, how long did this shadow of a colony, on which your conventions and treaties had not smiled, languish on the distant coast? Student of history, compare for me the baffled projects, the deserted settlements, the abandoned adventures of other times, and find the parallel of this. Was it the winter's storm, beating upon the houseless heads of women and children; was it hard labour and spare meals;-was it disease;-was it the It is sad indeed to reflect on the disasters, which tomahawk ;-was it the deep malady of a blighted the little band of pilgrims encountered. Sad to hope, a ruined enterprise, and a broken heart, achsee a portion of them, the prey of unrelenting cu-ing in its last moments, at the recollection of the pidity, treacherously embarked in an unsound, un-loved and left beyond the sea; was it some, or all seaworthy ship, which they are soon obliged to of these united, that hurried this forsaken company abandon, and crowd themselves into one vessel; one to their melancholy fate?—And is it possible that hundred persons, besides the ship's company, in a neither of these causes, that not all combined, were vessel of one hundred and sixty tons. One is able to blast this bud of hope?-Is it possible, that touched at the story of the long, cold, and weary from a beginning so feeble, so frail, so worthy, not so autumnal passage: of the landing on the inhospi- much of admiration as of pity, there has gone table rocks at this dismal season; where they are forth a progress so steady, a growth so wonderful, deserted before long by the ship, which had brought an expansion so ample, a reality so important, a them, and which seemed their only hold upon the promise, yet to be fulfilled, so glorious? world of fellow men, a prey to the elements and to We rejoice that sentiments similar to want, and fearfully ignorant of the numbers, the these are becoming every day more gener-power, and the temper of the savage tribes, that al in these states; that we are beginning to regard England, as the only spot in the old world in which liberty is yet known, and Englishmen the only people, with whom Americans can have any intimate communion. While on the other hand the subjects of the British empire are looking to this nation

tated the terms of that settlement, no doubt our Could a common calculation of policy have dicfoundations would have been laid beneath the royal smile. Convoys and navies would have been solicited to waft our fathers to the coast; armies, to defend the infant communities; and the flattering patronage of princes and lords, to espouse their interests in the councils of the mother country: Happy, that our fathers enjoyed no such patronge; happy, that they fell into no such protecting hands; happy, that our foundations were silently and deep ly cast in quiet insignificance, beneath a charter of banishment, persecution, and contempt; so that when the royal arm was at length outstretched against us, instead of a submissive child, tied down by former graces, it found a youthful giant in the land, born amidst hardships, and nourished on the rocks, indebted for no favours, and owing no duty. From the dark portals of the star chamber, and in the stern text of the acts of uniformity, the pilgrims received a commission, more efficient, than any that ever bore the royal seal. ment to Holland was fortunate; the decline of I am not, I need not say I am not, the pane- their little company in the strange land was fortu. gyrist of England. I am not dazzled by her riches, nate; the difficulties which they experienced in nor awed by her power. The sceptre, the mitre, getting the royal consent to banish themselves to and the coronet, stars, garters, and blue ribbons this wilderness were fortunate; all the tears and seem to me poor things for great men to contend heart breakings of that ever memorable parting at for. Nor is my admiration awakened by her ar- Delfthaven, had the happiest influence on the rismies, mustered for the battles of Europe; her na- ing destinies of New England. All this purified vies, overshadowing the ocean; nor her empire the ranks of the settlers. These rough touches of grasping the farthest east. It is these, and the fortune brushed off the light, uncertain, selfish price of guilt and blood by which they are main- spirits. They made it a grave, solemn, self-deny Lained, which are the cause why no friend of liber- ing expedition, and required of those who engaged ty can salute her with undivided affections. But in it, to be so too. They cast a broad shadow of it is the refuge of free principles, though often per- thought and seriousness over the cause, and if this secuted; the school of religious liberty, the more sometimes deepened into melancholy and bitterprecious for the struggles to which it has been call-ness, can we find no apology for such a human ed; the tombs of those who have reflected honor weakness? on all who speak the English tongue; it is the birthplace of our fathers, the home of the pilgrims; it is these which I love and venerate in Englaud. I should feel ashamed of an enthusiasm for Italy and Greece, did I not also feel it for a land like this. In an American it would seem to me degenerate and ungrateful, to hang with passion upon the traces of Homer and Virgil, and follow without emotion the nearer and plainer footsteps of Shakspeare and Milton; and I should think him cold in his love for his native land, who felt no melting in his heart for that other native land, which holds the

ashes of his forefathers.

filled the unexplored continent, upon whose verge
they had ventured. But all this wrought together
the ocean, the winter, the wilderness, and the sav
for good. These trials of wandering and exile of
age foe were the final assurance of success. It
was these that put far away from our father's cause,
all patrician softness, all hereditary claims to pre-
eminence. No effeminate nobility crowded into
the dark and austere ranks of the pilgrims. No

Of the effect of eloquence like this upon the sons of the pilgrims, standing on the spot where their fathers stood, none but the audience of that day can conceive. We said before in other places; but as we had have been told that these things have been never happened to hear them, we felt their full effect;-and it would matter of any thing rather than regret if any circumstance

as their fellows, in a regard for those rights, Carr nor Villiers would lead on the ill provided should oblige us to hear them again in the

which their statesmen have defended and band of despised Puritans, No well endowed for which their heroes have bled. They clergy were on the alert, to quit their cathedrals,

same language and from the same lips.

The Mysteries of Trade, or the Great Source | we refer to the preparation of certain

of Wealth: containing Receipts and Patents in Chemistry and Manufacturing; with Practical Observations on the Useful Arts. Original and Compiled. By David Beman. Boston. 8vo. pp. 182. THE object of this book is to enable every man to become his own brewer, his own vintner, and his own baker; it teaches us to imitate rum and brandy, to make wine from parsnips, sugar from hemp and rags, and bread from Iceland moss; directs us in what manner to restore the colours of ancient paintings, detect the adulteration of tea, and mix our own blacking. Now, though we are of opinion, that, on the whole, it is quite as well to allow every man to do his own work, yet it may not be amiss to have some general notion of the manner in which particular trades are conducted; since there are few points of knowledge, which may not, in some circumstances of a man's life, become a source either of advantage or entertainment.

In one point we disagree with the compilers of works of this sort; we mean in regard to the economy of their processes. There is one valuable article, which they rarely take into account, and that is, time; we find calculations of the value of ingredients, &c. proving mathematically, that, by following the directions of the author, we shall obtain various necessaries or luxuries of life at a much cheaper rate than they can be purchased; but the time employed in processes of this sort, even when conducted with that expedition which is the result of experience only, is much; and when they are attempted in the tedious and bungling manner of those who work by book, it is a very large, and, we may add, costly ingredient.

Not to dwell longer on the question of the general utility or entertainment of books of this kind, on which opinions must necessarily differ; we shall consider the manner in which the design, whether advantageous, or not, has been executed in the work before us. As far as a limited acquaintance with the subject, and a somewhat hasty perusal, will enable us to judge (for these books are not the most interesting to one who merely reads them through), we should consider the execution good in the main. The details appear to us to be sufficiently minute, and the principles and explanations correct. We were not perfectly satisfied with the selection; the factitious wines, for instance, occupy rather too large a portion of the work. They are but ordinary trash at best, and we think it quite as well, and much more economical to abstain from wine, than to manufacture it from parsnips, birch sap, or gilliflowers.

There are other receipts, which are not likely to be attempted by any but the manufacturer, who acquires his knowledge of these processes by an apprenticeship or by oral and practical instruction, and as these are not accompanied by any explanation of the rationale of the operations, there seems the less necessity for their introduction here;

varnishes and lacquers.

Among the details most likely to be useful, we may point out those, which relate to the method of proceeding in the manufacture of beer, bread, vinegar, and cider, and the explanation of the chemical principles, upon which the success of these operations depends. The method of cleansing silks, woollens, &c. without damage, is simple and very valuable, if really as effectual as it is represented to be.

We expected to find, among the economical receipts, one or more relating to the preservation of an important perishable article of household economy; we refer to eggs, the price of which is so variable, being at one season, nearly or quite double what it is at another, that an unfailing method of preserving large quantities, for a length of time, is a matter deserving serious attention. By the following recipe, they may be preserved in the greatest perfection for two years.

Take of quicklime, one peck;

cream of tartar, two ounces; common salt, eight ounces. After slaking the lime, put the whole in a vessel, with as much water as will render the composition of such a consistence, that an egg will swim in it, with its top just above the surface. Immerse in this liquid as many eggs, as the vessel will contain, or as you wish to preserve. It will be necessary to supply the waste, or disappearance of the water, from time to time, to prevent the composition acquiring such solidity as would obstruct the occasional removal of the eggs.

The following account of a practice, said to prevail in bake-houses, was new to us, and perhaps will be so to the majority of

our readers.

It is well known, that, in order to be able to supply the public with fresh bread for breakfast, bakers are in the habit of working all night. About eleven o'clock at night, they make the sponge or dough, which, of course, must have some time for fermentation; whilst this is taking place, the baker, who has perhaps slept little during the day, indulges himself now; and as he is fearful of not awaking in time to work the sponge into loaves, and of baking it in the oven; he hits upon the following ingenious but pernicious expedient. He knows that the dough in the trough is every minute becoming more spongy, from the incessant action of the ferment. This enlargement of bulk will, of course, raise or resist any weight placed upon the dough; consequently the lid of the trough, and any weight laid upon it, will be elevated, when the fermentation has arrived at that point, at which it may be divided into loaves. The baker, therefore, considering a similar elevation of his own body as a sufficient check on somnolency, lays himself down to sleep on the lid of the trough; the consequence is, that he is certainly aroused from his unhealthy slumbers at the required period.

The compiler of this work objects to this kind of incubation, on the ground of its pernicious effects to the sleeper; it is probable that other objections will occur to the more fastidious of the buyers and consumers of the article, which is thus

contrived a double debt to pay, A bed by night, a quartern loaf by day.

MISCELLANY.

PARTY SPIRIT.

THE number of those, who habitually look at the bright side of objects, is small. Of trouble, we may truly say, "A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump." It is true, that they, who look only at the bright side, will be disappointed in their calculations, that their hopes will be blighted, and their plans frustrated; but, though others, who look at both sides, may experience the same evils, yet they will neither suffer so often, nor so intensely. That men will not overlook altogether and entirely the bleak and barren spots around them, is not the subject of complaint, but that the number of those who regard equally their advantages and disadvantages, is so very small. If the mass of mankind paid more attention to the good effects of causes and the good qualities of objects,-if they devoted more time to tracing the remote blessing and investigating the latent good,-and declaimed less about immediate and apparent evils, they would make fewer complaints of men and things, they would form juster estimates and more correct views of human life, and might be more happy.

It is owing to this perverse attention to the present, this unphilosophical disregard of the future, this ready disposition to dwell upon the evil and overlook the good, that party spirt is the subject of such general detestation. The ill effects of party spirit being more obvious and more immediately felt than the good,-men forget that the evils to which it gives rise, are temporary, and seldom affect any but the violent men of party, whilst its blessings are eventually felt by the mass whom it actuates, and descend to their posterity.

Party spirit seems to be closely allied and almost identified with that principle of the human mind, which urges every man to promulgate and propagate his own opinions, and defend his own doctrines and assertions. In conversation, this principle produces various effects:-it urges some to be perpetually leading debate or provoking controversy upon favourite topics :-upon others, its effects are less powerful; these never start any subject, but only contribute occasionally some few remarks; they make good seconds, but fail altogether as principals:-upon others, it produces still different effects; these will endure neither opposition nor contradiction, they will condescend neither to argue nor persuade. The varieties of character produced by party spirit are similar to these, with which we meet in conversation-and derive their origin from the same cause. Both in domestic circles and public assemblies, we meet with professed disputants, humble partizans, and confirmed bigots.

That parties should exist can not surprise reflecting men. The difference in the habits, organs of sensation, and intellectual capacities of individuals, necessarily causes diversity of opinion; and this diversity is greater or less in proportion to the quantity

of knowledge. Where the quantity of knowledge is small, the matter of disagreement is small. In every country where there is any degree of freedom, where conscience is not fettered, where the lips are not sealed, and where the press is not shackled, there will parties, both political and religious, always be found.

The more

mous English minister,-as the dawn of more than

dent of the three respectable gentlemen who earn

judice and bigotry; then it forms a particu- | writing. The brightest geniuses on both sides of larobnoxious character of the opposite party, the Atlantic are engaged in this kind of literary which it associates with every individual be- labour. Besides the many works called Reviews, longing to it, and invents odious epithets all scientific or literary journals are made up of arwhich it applies indiscriminately to all its ticles upon books, and all newspapers which have opponents; this often leads to rash and un- a due regard to respectability of character devote reasonable decisions, and to determinations a column or two occasionally to this most dignified founded only on presumptions. Party spir- species of composition. The scarcity of new books, The wants and limits of human life are it, when it thus degenerates, operates even in this prolific age, is already felt and lamentsuch, that it is impossible any individual mostly upon the leaders of the parties and ed as a sore evil by all writers and readers of liteshould examine for himself the truth of all their most ignorant followers, "men of rary journals, and that sad day may not be afar off, the opinions and doctrines advanced by such poor, narrow souls, that they are not when reviews can no longer be written, because all others. Men, who have neither opportuni- capable of thinking upon any thing, but men write reviews, and the art and mystery of ty nor capacity to do this. are biassed to with an eye to whig or tory.' one party or another by some prepossession enlightened,-whose eyes are not blinded book-making is forgotten. Sad indeed will be that or accidental motive; they then attach a by the mists of prejudice, whose judgments day, and doubtless the wits whom it will overshadcertain degree of reverence to the leader are not warped by the prepossessions of ow, will regard it,-to use the metaphor of a faof their party, which causes them to regard bigotry,-discern clearly and decide ra- Cimmerian darkness. But reviews are already behis opinions as correct, and consequently tionally. to adopt them with unreserved confidence. It is in this way that the mass of mankind es from one to another. If the predomi- ed a good living by stealing from each other, affords Power, among parties, constantly chang-ginning to turn one upon the other, and the precebecome party men. The enlightened few nant party, in the exultation of triumph, examine for themselves, and decide differ- become uncharitable and rancorous, their a comfortable hope, that they may mutually, or ently according to the depth of their inves- very malignity produces a reaction, and rather reciprocally, supply an amount of alimer.t tigation and the perfection of their powers. experience soon teaches the wisdom and sufficient for the subsistence of the whole. At all In the dominions of ignorance and despo- advantages of sobriety and tolerance. By events, whatever be the end of the present system, tism, party spirit is never found,-for igno- the alternations of party spirit from indiffe- it will last my day, young though I am. The conrance removes all cause of difference. Even rence to excitement, from excitement to sciousness of genius burns within me, and urges the votaries of learning and science will indifference, the tone of society and gov- me to high endeavours; therefore I must review. appear harmonious, if deprived of freedom ernment is kept up, and upon the whole, I have tried ;-and with what success, you must of speech and liberty of the press, for they approximates to a higher standard; "old judge, as modesty forbids my expressing an opinion want a medium to convey their opinions. things pass away, and new ones take their upon that point. I offer to your acceptance the folSuch is the attraction of party, that al- place" opportunities are given for aban-lowing article, in which I have laboured to realize most every man ranges himself on one side, doning antiquated principles and exploded the beau ideal of a modern or the other, in religion and politics; and doctrines, for substituting new measures, there is hardly a science whose devotees and adopting more philosophical maxims. have not, at times, been divided into par- Party spirit is a visible demonstration of Mother Goose's Melodies. Third Amerities-so perfectly natural is it for men to the power of the people-it stimulates the can edition, from the thirteenth English disagree. This division of men into parties great and good to deeds of patriotism-and edition. Boston. 1824. 24mo. pp. 27. produces, in every case, beneficial results. if it sometimes ignorantly raises the unIt awakens the attention, it calls forth gen-worthy to influence and power, it as cer- AMONGST the literary productions of antiius and talent, it arouses the spirit of inqui- tainly hurls them down again from their ill-quity, none have been so universally adry, it leads to deep and thorough investiga- gained elevation, to rise no more. Party tion, it brings the truth to light, and spreads it with more celerity, with greater effect, and throughout a wider range than it would otherwise have been diffused. In religion, knowledge has led to a difference of opinion, difference of opinion to variety of sects, Whilst the spirit of liberty retains its and variety of sects to the discovery and activity,-whist diversity of intellect propropagation of truth, and to the confusion duces variety of opinion, whilst there is a and overthrow of error and superstition." pride in debate, and a joy in victory,"In politics, we march by similar steps from slavery and degradation to freedom and independence. And both in religion and politics, party spirit preserves what it as sisted to gain.

The good effects of party spirit are great and lasting. The evils which it produces are confined and temporary; they are misrepresentation, falsehood, libel, and calumny. There may, at first view, seem to be a contradiction between the evil and good of party spirit, but it may be reconciled by considering that the evil effects are experienced by a few individuals in their character and reputation; the good effects are more confined to the mind, though they affect both measures and men; the ill effects are limited almost exclusively to the existing generation, the good extend to posterity.

Party spirit too often degenerates into pre

spirit, then, is the quickening energy, the
very vivida vis of free governments;-it is
the angel which troubles the waters of lib-
erty to preserve and increase their healing
and salutary influence.

party spirit will exist, and, with few evils,
confer many blessings on mankind. They
who never consider remote and latent
effects, but confine their views solely to
what is present and obvious, will regard it
with detestation, and endeavour to procure
for it the ignominious shroud of public op-
probrium whilst the patriot and philoso-
pher will bless its existence, and pray for
its continuance, since "without parties,
cemented by the union of sound principles,
evil men and evil principles cannot be suc-
cessfully resisted."

Cambridge, Jan. 1825.

W.

It seems to me, Mr Editor, that no stronger proof can be offered of the remarkable intellectual illumination of the present age, than that which may be drawn from the universal recognition of the truth, that reviewing is altogether the best mode of

REVIEW.

mired, none have enjoyed a reputation so permanent, as those masterpieces of epic poetry, the Iliad, Odyssey, and Æneid. Their fame is certainly merited, and it were sacrilege to question it. We should

be ashamed to own ourselves insensible to the excellencies that concentrate here, and proudly profess to be ardent admirers of the splendid machinery, the rich invention, the fire and sublimity of Homer; as well as of the elegance, dignity, and tenderness of Virgil. But though ever ready to award to the classic age its due, we cannot refrain from censuring that blind veneration for antiquity, which has been so prevalent of late years, and seems to be invariably attended with a groundless prejudice against modern productions.

These remarks were suggested by the perusal of the valuable work of which the title is prefixed to this article. It is not, as many of our readers may know, a new work, but a recent edition gratifies us with the opportunity of giving a particular account of its very interesting contents. Perhaps we cannot present a more impartial and satisfactory view of their character, than by selecting and illustrating at length some poem which may be a just specimen of the whole. The very first that offers itself, as we open the volume,

affords such a literary banquet as is seldom
given to the intellectual epicure. It is not
long, and we will take the liberty of print-
ing it entire.

Little Jack Horner sat in a corner
Eating a Christmas pye;

He put in his thumb, and pulled out a plum,
And cried, "What a good boy am I!"
We consider this beautiful production as
a perfect gem.' A poem written in the
Attic dialect, as we may say, of our lan-
guage, and possessing every qualification
requisite to insure it a place in the highest
rank of Epic composition. A quarto edi-
tion of this work has been extensively cir-
culated, and the literati thus furnished with
every facility for appreciating its worth.
But a groundless partiality for the an-
cients, and a deep-rooted hostility towards
the fame of more recent writers, still blind
their eyes to its merits, and we rejoice that
it is proposed to publish a stereotype edi-
tion in a cheap and popular form. One of
the first and most important objects with
the masters of the Epic, has been to select
some remarkable personage for a hero.
This contributes incalculably, not only to
the unity, but to the interest of the tale.

Let us examine how the work before us corresponds with this rule. Our poem commences in a manner perfectly original and highly impressive. The ordinary circumlocutory method is discarded, and we are immediately made acquainted with

Little Jack Horner.

Vitiated indeed must be the taste, and corrupt the judgment, that can be insensible to the beauties exhibited in the introduction of this personage. John Horner's origin was probably obscure, and consequently attended with circumstances that could be neither important nor interesting, Moreover, a celestial or fictitious descent for a modern hero, are equally out of the question. Nothing, therefore, could be more happy than the sententious brevity and artful reserve of the authoress in this exordium. A rigid investigation of pedigree might have degraded the lofty opinion which Mr Horner's capital exploit is so well calculated to inspire, and to support which ought to have been the writer's principal aim.

After this graceful introduction to the chief character, we are promptly and happily conducted to the scene of his heroic achievements.

Little Jack Horner sat in a corner.

With regard to chronology, the precise period, at which the events of the plot took place, is not directly specified;-a most ingenious artifice of the writer to secure that freedom and license which others enjoy amidst the impenetrable fog of antiquity. The time occupied by the action itself, was doubtless short; for it is obvious that the hero would have suffered no consideration to retard him in the prosecution of a design which must have engrossed all his faculties. But this is unimportant.

With regard to place, however, the case is different, topographical minuteness be

ing essential to Epic unity. In this respect
our authoress has been beautifully definite,
confining her hero to the narrow precincts
of a corner. This limited sphere of action
must have been adverse to the free opera-
tion of his elbows, and greatly heightens
the difficulty of his undertaking, and in-
creases proportionably our interest and ad-
miration. But the minor excellencies of
this poem are so numerous, that time would
fail should we attempt to do justice to them
all. We shall, therefore, content our-
selves with a cursory glance at its more
prominent features.

The scene now opens a little wider, and
active operations commence.

Little Jack Horner sat in a corner
Eating a Christmas pye.

now enumerate.

He put in his thumb and pulled out a plum! What a noble lesson does Mrs Goose thus happily and forcibly convey! What a sublime virtue is here exhibited? How great and pointed is the moral! Never was so splendid an instance of disinterestedness and devotion, as displayed by Mrs Goose's hero in liberating this unfortunate plum from its awkward and distressing situation! But our limits compel us to hasten on.

His

A rapid review of the excellencies combined in this inimitable poem, may serve to render our estimate of its merits more comprehensive and correct. The subject is important, highly instructive, and justifies the magnificence of its apparel. The incidents are happy; the characters and description remarkably fine. These, howIt is necessary to remark, that, with re- ever, are secondary virtues, when comparspect to this passage, there exists an im-ed with the plot, which unites in perfection those indispensable requisites, unity and portant difference of opinion; it is not cerA becoming dignity is pretain that the line was written as it is print-greatness. ed, and many annotators insist upon the served throughout, and Mrs Goose seems insertion of "Thanksgiving" in lieu of the to have been well aware that the Epic "abhors the ludicrous." With regard to word "Christmas." It seems to us that there are few even plausible arguments in favour the principal personage, he is made to disof such a change, and we have retained play that happy medium of character, the text reading for the following, among the bounds of probability. His passions which reduces all his achievements within other powerful reasons, which we cannot In the first place, the are lofty, and at times incontrollable. He word Thanksgiving is highly injurious to is not exempt from the common frailties of the metre, as the smooth and rapid flow of human nature; and thus we behold him the dactylic rhythm is not suited to the dig. yielding to the irresistible temptation ofnity of the subject. Secondly, Christmas fered by the Christmas pye, from whose duis an occasion vastly more important than rance vile he was soon to rescue, by force the former, and far more consistent with of thumb, an innocent and sweet being. that sober solemnity which prevails throughThis temporary transgression is perfectly out the poem. We trust that we have been natural, and very judiciously precedes his influenced to prefer the present reading, final exploit, the merit of which is incalcuprincipally by these considerations. Still lably augmented by the contrast. it is but fair to acknowledge that our de- failings, compared with his good qualities, cision may have been partially biassed, by of the picture is relieved by some of the are as drops in the bucket. The dark side religious prejudices; for we are staunch churchmen. The question, however, is a noblest virtues that can adorn the human complicated one, and every reader, it is mind. "The magnanimous man," says presumed, will exercise his own judgment. Aristotle, "is one, whose character, being But we haste to the execution of our task. of great worth, is estimated by himself at its full value." Let us see how the philosopher's definition will apply to our hero. After a laborious and successful exertion of his physical powers; after an exploit that most distressing solicitude on account of "universal emancipation," Mr Horner is The plot thickens. We already feel al- might well be regarded as the embryo of our hero, who is gradually involving him- represented as retiring from notice, with intricate adventure. The greatness of the which forms the most prominent characterself, unconscious of danger, in a dark and that modest confidence in his own worth emergency rejects all digression or ampli-istic of genuine magnanimity. Such is the fying, and calls for the utmost rapidity of concluding sentiment; and this truly great narration and thought. Here, then, we man retires from the stage, content with are left to conjecture that the hero soon exclaiming "What a good boy am I!" becomes aware of his responsible situation; and the critical moment has arrived that is to develope the energies of his soul and body. He espies a beautiful and innocent being, suffering under the thraldom of a callous pye-crust. The incidents have been gradually concentrating to the proper focus. Every circumstance has contributed to heighten the intensity of the interest produced, and our expectations are now wrought up to the highest pitch. They are fully and immediately gratified by the unity and greatness of the catastrophe.

Little Jack Horner sat in a corner,
Eating a Christmas pye;
He put in his thumb-

C.

LETTERS FROM A TRAVELLER.
No. V.
Edinburgh, October 27, 18-.

MY DEAR FRIENDS,

I have now been, for nearly a month comfortably situated in my winter establishment, waiting, or, as the Scotch say, wearying for the commencement of the session, and filling up the intervals of more

serious pursuits by making bread-seals and learning to play on the bagpipe. The site of this city is the most irregular that can be imagined. One may walk through a street, called the South-Bridge, and see people traversing the Cowgate twenty or thirty feet beneath him-and for crooked streets, it can only be equalled by Boston itself. The Old Town is built principally upon a hill, which bears some general resemblance to the one I have mentioned at Sterling, the castle being situated on its brow. Owing to this irregularity, the effect produced by the lamps, on a dark night, is very remarkable; and if a stranger were dropped down in Prince's street, in such a night, the only possible conclusion he could arrive at would be, that he was situated on the main-land of Laputa, and that the lights of the Old Town were in the floating island.

good hexameter or pentameter verses. But
this is a digression.

the Calton and Costorphine hills, all command the most charming prospects, and Doctors of all kinds abound here, Doc- there is a mixture of wildness and culti tors of Divinity and Physic, Horse Doctors, vation, which is altogether different from and Cow Doctors; I observed a sign the any thing I have ever met with. A walk other day, which informed the public that of very few minutes round Arthur's seat the proprietor was a "sooty man and smoke brings one into the most perfect solitude; Doctor." In this particular the "gude and there are several places, to which, if town” equals a certain village in the neigh-a man were conducted blindfold he would bourhood of Boston, where I once heard a no more imagine himself in the immediate little Miss ask a lady with great naïveté, neighbourhood of a great city, than if he if "there were any men in C- as she were in Juan Fernandes. There is behad seen only doctors." Every calling is tween Salisbury and St Leonard's crags here subdivided, "Jacks of all trades" a dell of this description, where at noonday seem to be unknown. One man sells nee- one rarely sees any thing living, except a dles, and another thread. If you ask a few sheep; and from whence you may walk Bookseller for paper, he will send you to a in less than ten minutes into the CanonStationer, and you must get your pens of a gate, where you will be jostled, at every quill-cutter. step, by men, women, and children gentle and simple, exquisites and blackguards, bareheaded varlets and barebottomed Highlanders.

I have made hardly a single acquaintance as yet in this place, having delivered but one introductory letter; and when I called for this purpose, and asked the servant girl if her master was at home, she replied, "Yes, sir, he's at home, but he's no in, he has not yet come from the country;" which mode of expression may be Scottish for aught I know, although it savoured strongly of the other side of the Irish Channel.

I think the most sociable affairs, that have fallen under my observation in EdinThe accounts we have of the height of burgh, are the funerals. Soon after I some of the houses are very little exag- arrived here, I observed a troop of peogerated; it is a consequence of the ine-ple passing my window, with black crape quality of their foundations. For you can pendants to their hats, and white cuffs, easily imagine that if the roofs of the such as the ladies wear with us. They buildings in Somerset street, for instance; were marching along in a crowd, talking were all nearly on the same level, as they and smiling; without tolling of bell, or usually are here, those at the bottom of the any resemblance to a regular procession. street would have twelve or thirteen stories. And if I had not, after some amazed scruYou must not suppose however that such an tiny, discovered a coffin, which some of them edifice is but one house, in our sense. Each supported upon two poles or handspikes, I story is a separate domicil, to which you should have been utterly at a loss to acenter from a winding stair, which is public, count for this unusual posse. Since then, I Tomorrow the session begins, when I exand in point of fact, is a street or lane, set have noticed several of the same character. pect the scene will be changed, and I hope, up on end. Such houses as we inhabit are The nonchalance of the mourners is inimita among other pleasures, to see B's homehere called self contained. ble; their dress is uniform, and I shouldly face-not homely in our base sense, suppose that some of them were hired for a fico for the phrase"--but homely, as the the occasion, but that they would probably kindly Scotch dialect has it. In the mean look more lugubrious, if they were paid for time I have lived the life of an anchorite it. in respect to company, and in the midst of We were wont to laugh at Boston notions a metropolis am in danger of forgetting and the eagerness, with which our fellow-the sound of my own voice-since, like citizens run after every "strange fish" that Triangle of facetious memory, with the exclaims their attention, but to judge from the ception of my landlady, I converse with public prints, motley is a very good wear in none but the dead. The liberal tax upon this island. I observed the other day a no-light and air forbids my apartment to have tice of a man, who, a few years since, col- but one window; fortunately it is a large lected an enormous assemblage of people, one and looks towards the west, at which I in the very capital of one of the most cul- am as well pleased as a good mussulman is tivated nations of the world, to see him sail to have his house face towards Mecca-his down a river in a tub drawn by four geese, orisons (that is, if he lives on the Barbary and ride back in a car drawn by as many shore) fly over the great desert of sand, white tom-cats! Head of Confucius! and mine over the great expanse of waters. "Mais c'est un sage peuple, s'amuse bien." Farewell.

The shops in Edinburgh look very beautifully in the evening, being illuminated by gas lights, disposed in a variety of fantastic forms. Near the town are large manufactories of this gas, which is conveyed through it, by means of pipes running beneath the pavement, and from which proceed smaller copper tubes leading to individual shops or houses. The stream, thus obtained, is suffered to jet out through holes, about large enough to admit a large pin, and arranged, according to the fancy of the occupant, in circles, fleurs de lis, &c. Some of the streets are also lighted in a similar manner, and the difference between the effects of this method and the "darkness visible" of oil lamps is prodigious. Edinburgh abounds now, as well as in the days of Monkbarns, with bookstalls. At I saw to-day a very beautiful display of a mean looking establishment of this kind archery, as I was walking through a public I picked up the other day Barclay's Argenis, promenade, called the meadows and resema book, which you may have seen, but prob- bling our mall. The archers were dressed ably have never read. This copy was in a handsome plaid uniform. I was much printed at Oxford in 1534, is perfectly entire, surprised at the distance at which they and stoutly bound. It has afforded me much shoot, and was told that the American Inamusement, as one of the great storehouses dians, who were here some years since, and from which the incidents and tricks of later who shot with great precision at short disnovels have been borrowed. When the tances, were confounded, when, on being heroine's eyes are red with weeping, she re-invited by the Archers' company to shoot moves the colour by a little cold water, with them, they beheld the distance at "admota gelida,” and hides her blushes which the target was placed. under a violent cough, "violentam tussim." Mistakes, disguises, subterraneans, and all the machinery of modern romance writers abound, and, like Mrs Radcliffe's, the dramatis persona now and then spout poetry, in

There are probably more pleasant walks in the vicinity of this city than in that of any other whatsoever. In almost every direc tion, one meets with some new and romantic scenery. Arthur's seat, the Pentland's,

POETRY.

WOODS IN WINTER.

When winter winds are piercing chill,
And through the white-thorn blows the gale,
With solemn feet I tread the hill,
That over-brows the lonely vale.

O'er the bare upland, and away

Through the long reach of desert woods,
The embracing sunbeams chastely play,
And gladden these deep solitudes.
On the gray maple's crusted bark

Its tender shoots the hoar-frost nips;
Whilst in the frozen fountain---hark!
His piercing beak the bittern dips.

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