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pression, which, ever after, continued to recur, he imagined that a voice spake to him from heaven, announcing that God required the sacrifice of his life. This unhappy phantasy was quickly followed by another; he thought this voice pronounced upon his disobedience the doom of everlasting death; and this awful horror continued, with little intermission, to fill his soul with darkness, until the light of another world dawned upon him.

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I contrived to chaste ornament, and the hideous distortions of

ingenuity and much atttendance. give them a fire heat; and have waded night after night through the snow, with the bellows under my arm, just before going to bed, to give the latest possible puff to the embers, lest the frost should seize them before morning. Very minute beginnings have sometimes important consequences. From nursing two or three little evergreens, I became ambitious of a green-house, and accordingly built one; which, verse excepted, afforded me amusement for a longer time than any expedient of all the many to which I have fled for refuge from the misery of having nothing to do. When I left Olney for Weston, We have spoken hitherto, with peculiar could no longer have a green-house of my own; reference to the gloomy parts of this vol- but in a neighbour's garden I find a better, of which the sole management is consigned to me. ume; but there are many letters of a sport"I had need take care, when I begin a letter, that ive cast, displaying much of the exquisite the subject with which I set off be of some importwit in which Cowper sometimes indulged ance; for, before I can exhaust it, be it what it himself, and which could have been omitted may, I have generally filled my paper. But self is by Hayley only because he thought any a subject inexhaustible, which is the reason that more of that kind were unnecessary for his though I have said little, and nothing, I am afraid, worth your hearing, I have only room to add, that I purpose as a biographer, or from the unhap-am, my dear Madam, py mistake of supposing them degrading to Most truly yours, the character of his deceased friend. Several of these have already been published in the newspapers, and as with them our readers are doubtless familiar, we shall extract one, which we believe has not been so published.

My Dear Madam,

"TO MRS KING.

Oct. 11, 1788.

You are perfectly secure from all danger of being overwhelmed with presents from me. It is not much that a poet can possibly have it in his power to give. When he has presented his own works, he may be supposed to have exhausted all means of donation. They are his only superfluity. There was a time, but that time was before I commenced writer for the press, when I amused myself in a way somewhat similar to yours; allowing, I mean, for the difference between masculine and female operations. The scissors and the needle are your chief implements: mine were the chisel and the saw. In those days you might have been in some danger of too plentiful a return for your favours. Tables, such as they were, and joint stools such as never were, might have travelled to Perton-hall in most inconvenient abundance. But I have long since discontinued this practice, and many others which I found it necessary to adopt, that I might escape the worst of all evils, both in itself and in its consequences-an idle life. Many arts I have exercised with this view, for which nature never designed me; though among them were some in which I arrived at considerable proficiency, by mere dint of the most heroic perseverance. There is not a 'squire in all this country who can boast of having made better squirrel-houses, hutches for rabbits, or bird-cages, than myself; and in the article of cabbage-nets, I had no superior. I even had the hardiness to take in hand the pencil, and studied a whole year the art of drawing Many figures were the fruit of my labours, which had, at least, the merit of being unparallelled by any production either of art or nature. But before the year was ended, I had occasion to wonder at the progress that may be made, in despite of natural deficiency, by dint alone of practice; for I actually produced three landscapes, which a lady thought worthy to be framed and glazed. I then judged it high time to exchange this occupation for another, lest, by any subsequent productions of inferior merit, I should forfeit the honor I had so fortunately acquired. But gardening was, of all employments, that in which I succeeded best; though even in this I did not suddenly attain perfection. I began with lettuces and cauliflowers: from them I proceeded to cucumbers next to melons. I then purchased an orange-tree, to which, in due time, I added two or three myrtles. These served me day and night with employment during a whole severe winter. To defend them from the frost, in a situation that exposed them to its severity, cost me much

W. C.
"P.S. Mrs Unwin bids me present her best com-
pliments, and say how much she shall be obliged to
you for the receipt to make that most excellent
cake which came hither in its native pan. There
is no production of yours that will not be always

most welcome at Weston."

The letters on political subjects will perhaps surprise their American readers, "sed non omnia possumus omnes;" we regret not that they are published, seeing that we are thus more fully informed of Cowper's sentiments; but we do regret that he wrote them. Living as he did, in retirement, it was impossible for him to be fully informed of passing events; and the natural consequence was many mistakes, some of which he afterwards corrected on better information, as he would doubtless have corrected all, had he been shown his error; for no man appears to have been more open to conviction, or more candid in confessing his faults.

Of the style, we could only repeat the
language which has been held by all per-
sons of taste since the publication of Hay-
ley's selection; that it is perfect; but we
are spared the task of dilating upon this
subject, fully concurring with the opinion
expressed by a friend of the Editor, and
which he has inserted in his preface. This
opinion is at once so just and so elegantly
expressed, that we copy it entire.

It is quite unnecessary to say that I perused
the letters with great admiration and delight. I
have always considered the letters of Mr Cowper
as the finest specimen of epistolary style in our
language; and these appear to me of a superior de-
scription to the former, possessing as much beauty
with more piety and pathos. To an air of inimita-
ble ease and carelessness, they unite a high degree
of correctness, such as could result only from the
clearest intellect, combined with the most finished
taste. I have scarcely found a single word which
is capable of being exchanged for a better. **
"Literary errors I can discern none. The selec-
tion of words and the structure of the periods are
inimitable; they present as striking a contrast as
can well be conceived, to the turgid verbosity which
passes at present for fine writing, and which bears a
great resemblance to the degeneracy which marks
the style of Ammianus Marcellinus, as compared
to that of Cicero or of Livy. A perpetual effort
and struggle is made to supply the place of vigour,
gairish and dazzling colours are substituted for

weakness for native strength. In my humble opinion, the study of Cowper's prose may, on this account, be as useful in forming the taste of young people as his poetry.

"That the letters will afford great delight to all persons of true taste, and that you will confer a most acceptable present on the reading world by publishing them, will not admit of a doubt."

We will add to the above, that we think the man who will publish a regular series of all Cowper's letters, including those in the present work, and all those which were published by Hayley, will do good service to all classes of readers.

MISCELLANY.

UPON REVIEWING AND REVIEWS.

THE prevalence of reviewing is an excellent good thing; which proposition we shall proceed to demonstrate in the most satisfactory and explicit manner.

Firstly, it makes the fields of literature bear a second crop, and the last is, nine times out of ten, as good as the first, not to say better. In good old times, when a book was read, there was an end of it; some talked about it, a few quoted it, and a very few indeed read it again. But now we have changed, and our present fashion of managing with a book of considerable pretensions, is vastly improved. The beginning of the process is a notice let off somewhere or other, by way of a signal rocket, that such a work is to be published by Messrs

and "we understand it is expected to be prodigiously so and so; thus much is certain, that Mr A has undertaken to, &c., and it is well known that Mr B is, &c."Next comes a review in the London Literary Gazette, anticipating the publication of the book by some three or four weeks, extracting all the best of it by way of a fair sample, and thus exciting a vehement curiosity to see the remainder.

Then

comes the book! and with it the last number of the Edinburgh Review (which, of course, we read first), giving it a tremendous slap, whereby we are profited in three ways; first, the elaborate vituperation of the review, is a proof that the book is worth something, and thus the trouble of uncertainty is removed; next, the labour of fault-finding is done at our hands, and thirdly, we enjoy some good, and much bad wit, which, but for this provocation, would have slumbered forever with Jeffrey's modesty, Gifford's candour, and decency, the pertinacious veracity of Blackwood's, and divers other matters and things that are not. Then we read the book with infinite zest,-knowing before hand exactly what to be struck with, as perfectly new and unheard of,-where to indicate, by a slight elevation of the nasal apex, a gentle contempt, and where, if such be our good luck, to praise, with a hearty guffaw, a touch or two of pure fun. Here we rest, for perhaps three weeks, and then enters the Quarterly, in the full bloom of snarling majesty, to enlarge upon subjects more or

less unconnected with the book, and finally to tell us (we go on the supposition of an attack by the Edinburgh), that it has some shadow of merit, and really contains one or two things which a reader may like without being thereby convicted of absolute jacobinism and bloodthirstiness. By this time we are tolerably well satiated with the book and its offspring; but just as we are beginning to think of the possibility of opening it once more, we get our own North American, and find that some clever fellow has whipt off all the cream, and concocted it, with the addition of a little pleasant spicing, into a most palatable trifle.

Truly, the extent of this process is wonderful; we had no idea of it ourselves, and do assure our readers, that we are as much instructed by writing this article, as they will be by reading it. Every reflecting mind must be amazed at discovering the perfection, to which the art of making the most of a book, has at length arrived. The various reviews and journals which characterize the age, may be justly compared to the many viscera which constitute the digestive organs of that "ship of the desert," that exact type of a literary drudge, the camel, and enable him to work and fatten upon the dried weeds of the desert. Every thing upon which his maw closes, is squeezed, bruised, broken, and utterly dissolved, until it is wholly changed into most nourishing aliment. So do reviewers, acting as the stomach of the reading public, vex and triturate their unhappy prey, until the lightest, driest chaff, is made to yield excellent food.

Moreover, the vast advantage of universal reviewing, is apparent, in that it opens the honourable career of letters to many who would, but for this, be compelled to dig, beg, or steal in some more ignoble way. The time was, when he who made a bad book, might better have made' none; but now, every book will find some publisher, every publisher some kind reviewer, and every reviewer some willing dupes. But if the would-be author is too humble or too lazy to aim at a book, or cannot think out, borrow, or "convey," more than twenty pages' worth upon any subject,-in such case, let him take to reviewing. This is a thing which any body can do; the numbers must be filled; "copy is wanted, our compositors are waiting; Mr Editor, what shall we do?" "I am sure I don't know, Mr Printer; I've written till my fingers are so many cramps, and my brain a sucked orange, and I can't and won't write a word more. My best contributors lie abominably; I have really nothing for you, Sir." "But, dear Sir, do pray give me something; we shall be delayed already, a whole week; there are only thirteen pages wanting." "Well, here's a thing of twenty, too dull to light a fire with; you may cut it down to suit."-And our author becomes an established reviewer, and if tolerably smart, will become, in due time, a very great man.

The profession of letters is an exceeding ly hard one, and never grows up until all other trades are overdone It is only in old

and crowded countries, where the means of had their day. We beg our readers not to living bear to those who want to live, the charge us with an unnecessary parade of proportion of a very few to a great many, learning, but we do assure them, that we that scholars exist as a class. Now and have actually seen some specimens of this then, a stray genius may appear in a new kind, handed down from the last age. The country, and enjoy in perfection the review commonly began with saying what "monstrari digito” which Horace coveted. the author intended to do, and then went But he will not be lost in a crowd, until on deliberately to tell what he did!! There the pulpits overflow, and there are more exists such a dearth of literary novelties, doctors than diseases, and more lawyers that we really think of introducing into than quarrels-not to say until no secluded our columns, occasionally, a review or two corner holds out a promise to the youthful of this original sort, by way of a pleasing blacksmith, no unappropriated chimnies variety. offer their patronage to the aspiring sweep, no gutters cheer, with their accumulated mud, the hopes of the young scavinger. But, as people do not take to writing for a livelihood, until there is nothing else to be laid hold of, all easier trades being hopeless; so, when they do take to the literary line, they begin with reviewing, inasmuch as that is the easiest end of it.

Thus, then, reviewing is a great good, by reason of its introducing, with a gentle hand, tender neophytes into the art and mystery of selling words, and supplying work to those who will write, but are fit for nothing better than periodical drudgery. To them it is evidently a great good; and to the blushing, fearful, halting candidate, who pants for fame, in a small way, and nourishes the ambition of calling himself "we," and of discussing with the fair, whose eyes and stockings "reflect the azure of th' eternal arch," the merits of our last number with a timid allusion to my last article,-this same fashion of reviewing is an inestimable resource. Who then will be at once so bold and so stupid, as to deny the invaluable advantages of this custom, which is clearly a certain proof, and a very efficient means, of the amelioration of human character, and the progress of human happiness. For our own parts, we consider the invention of printing as chiefly important, because it was a necessary antecedent to the invention of reviewing, and think it high time that Faustus should yield his laurels to greater Jeffrey.

But we must quit this delightful theme, and proceed to the second general division of our subject,-reviews; which we intend to treat of in the most methodical and exact manner, in order to show our skill and experience. We shall begin by a classification of reviews into three kinds.

Firstly, those reviews which actually tell, or aim at telling the public what the true character of the work reviewed may be;

Secondly, those which are the exact antipodes to the first class;-their object being to prevent the public from finding out what the book may be; and

Thirdly, those which have no connexion whatever with any book whatever. Of the first kind of reviews, it cannot be thought necessary to speak much at length, as they have gone entirely out of fashion. Their uselessness,-especially to the reviewer who gains no fame by simply telling what a book is, since any body can do that, has caused them almost to disappear; still, there was a time, when such things

To go to the second class, which are vastly more current in these days than the first, we shall begin by observing, that they are precisely those for which the reading public has most cause to be thankful. Now, this may seem paradoxical; for which we are very sorry. Nothing but an extreme regard for honesty and exactness, induces us to disclose the fact, that, of all the reviews in the world, those which prevent the public from knowing any thing about a book, are in fact the most useful kind.

Every one knows that the great misery under which the reading public groans, and well may groan, is the crowd, the overflow, the absolute gush and torrent of new books. It was as an antidote to this bane, that reviewing was invented;-a contrivance, exceedingly wanted to lessen this pressure, by removing the necessity of reading such an infinitude of books as the teeming press is perpetually bringing forth. This, then, is the principal use of reviews, and of course, those reviews are the best, which best perform this use. Now, reviews of this second class scold a good book into obscurity ten times, where they puff a bad one into notice once; moreover, if we are prevented from reading a good book, there is so much trouble certainly saved, while, if we are seduced into opening a poor book, there is some chance of our finding out how poor it is, before we have worked through many pages. Thus, then, it is obvious that reviews intended to keep people in the dark, do most towards the prevention of much reading; and as it is well known that this is the chief use and purpose of reviewing, the inference is unavoidable, that these reviews are the most valuable. In fact, their usefulness was so apparent, that they became exceedingly numerous, insomuch that their power of doing good is vastly abridged by a habit people have got into, of not believing one word in ten that reviewers say; which is a very vile habit indeed, utterly reprehensible, and worthy of all manner of rebuke, and, moreover, a sad, but striking proof, how apt mankind are to lose sight of their own interest.

It will doubtless be noticed, that reviews answer a twofold purpose. They may be used with the book,-like a rich sauce with a delicious pudding; or they may supersede the book, and answer instead of it, to all intents and purposes. This alternative is left with the public, who are thus enabled to make the most of a thing, or the least of it, just as may be most agreeable.

But we must hasten to the third class, which is by far the most numerous of all; so much so indeed, that periodicals composed principally of articles which have no reference whatever to any work, are called Reviews by way of eminence; as the Edinburgh, the Quarterly, &c. The advantages of this way of writing are numerous and deserving of much notice, but we have not room to speak of them very much in detail. One is, the great saving of time and labour which they occasion, by wholly relieving the writer from the trouble of finding a title for his essay; which, judging from the preposterous names they often bore before this invention, must be sometimes-no small job.

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Then, as there is no pretence of any connexion between the title and the subject of the article, the writer is nowise obliged to pay any regard to unity of design, but may jump, hop, or crawl, from one topic to another, just as he finds convenient,-which is an unspeakable comfort to gentlemen of letters, who write per page, with an occasional recollection of the terms on which the proprietors have agreed to make them a present. Thirdly, it is an important advantage to writers of this sort, because it sometimes occurs, that when one has prepared his "review," he finds another, with the title he had selected, already gone to the compositors with the editor's imprimatur thereon. Now, if he really had written with any reference to the book, think how melancholy is his condition; but if he has wisely secured to himself all the advantage of generality, he has nothing to do but copy the title page of some other book, and the whole difficulty disappears. Nor are these advantages all on the side of the writer. One, which the reader derives from this fashion, is the infinite variety of the matter which is elaborated for his entertainment. Take an Edinburgh Review for instance. It contains, say, twenty articles, headed with the names of twenty books; now, if these articles talked only about these books, how sadly limited would the range of observation be; but as the reviewers are far too knowing to be thus trammelled, the most desultory reader may expatiate to his entire satisfaction amid a boundless variety of topic and remark. We really hoped to make this instructive article complete, by exhausting at once its all but inexhaustible subject, but find we have used up all our room, and must therefore bid our gentle readers adieu, till another time.

POETRY

DION'S DREAM.

He lay upon his couch by night,
Locked fast in sleep; for he had been
Engaged the livelong day in fight
With warrior-bands of foreign men:
When, on the moon's declining beam,
There came the Spirit of a dream.
It breathed upon his face the spell,
Which shows the future and the past,
And bade him note fair Hellas well,

And see her age of glory past.

"And cast thine eyes, chief, west and east, And tell me, dreamer, what thou seest."

And Dion saw, and lo! the land,
The land of Greece was free no more;
But o'er it ruled a turbaned band,
Whose scimitars were red with gore.
And there a Spartan boy, who waits
A bondman at the conqueror's gates.

He saw her sons the proselytes
Of a pure creed-a faith divine;
None pay the "Unknown God" high rites,-
His temple holds a holier shrine.
'Tis changed; alas, at evening there
A Muezzim chants the Moslem prayer.

He saw a wretched peasant stand
Chained to his implements of toil;
And there are fetters on his hand,
And there are tears, but ne'er a smile.
And oft is upward cast his eye
In prayer to God, that he may die.

He saw a girl with golden locks
And polished brow and azure eye;
Why roves she o'er the lonely rocks?
Why all the day long weep and sigh?
Alas, her loveliness has caught
A haram's lord, and she is bought.
And o'er the Morea, far and wide,
The ruthless sons of Islam stand
With every weapon, hell has tried
To work the downfall of a land.
And Dion thus in sorrow slept,
Then left his couch and sat and wept.

Again he sunk to sleep :-again

He dreamed. Upon that mount of Thrace,
Which rises, as 'tis said of men,
Ten thousand feet above its base,
He stood, and from the height surveyed
The changes passing centuries made.

Is that lost Greece he sees below?
Where is the glittering minaret?
And where is he, the turbaned foe'?
The Othman surely rules her yet?
No, rest thee, chief, the Moslem thrones
Cumber no land that Europe owns.

He sees, upon a sunny slope
All festooned over with the vine,
A merry, laughing, peasant group,
Around a vase of Chian wine.
And much they talk of days gone past,
Ere Despotism breathed his last.

He sees a labouring man at work;
His children, babes with yellow hair,
Play by, and, fearless of the Turk,
Pursue a young bird fluttering there,
And he, that sire, with soft embrace
Of those dear babes, joins in the chace.
And, emblem of the peace that reigns
Throughout the clime, he sees a maid
Of angel form forsake the plains,
And wander to the mountain's shade;
All lonely, with her father's flocks;-
For there's no Turk among these rocks.

What cloud is that, which, girt with wings,
Comes sweeping where proud Corinth smiles?
No shadowy cloud; that vessel brings
The dove from far Atlantic isles
Lo! o'er her, with the dark blue blent,
There waves a starry firmament.

The warrior wakes; there is no cloud
Upon his heart; the morning sun
Shines through his tent, and fierce and loud
Come shouts, as when the battle's won.
And little taught by yester night,

The Satrap arms again for fight.

J.

ΤΟ

Aye, thou art for the grave; thy glances shine Too brightly to shine long; another Spring Shall deck her for men's eyes,-but not for thine, Sealed in a sleep which knows no wakening. The fields for thee have no medicinal leaf,

Nor the vexed ore a mineral of power, And they who love thee, wait in anxious grief Till the slow plague shall bring the fatal hour. Glide softly to thy rest then; Death should come Gently to one of gentle mould like thee, As light winds wandering through groves of bloom Detach the delicate blossom from the tree. Close thy sweet eyes calmly, and without pain; And we will trust in God, to see thee, yet again. B.

Father, thou didst bestow on me
An ample portion of thy good;

I squandered that which came from thee,
Wandering far off, and lawlessly
Devouring worldly husks for food;-
They will not nourish—and my eye
Is turned again towards my home;
Thy servants have a full supply
Of bread from thee, and I will try
To seek thee, father;-lo! I come!
Though thou assign a servant's place
To me the meanest round thy door-
Though humbled, toiling in disgrace,
Let me again behold thy face
And eat thy bread,-I ask no more.

THE HARP.

N. B.

There was an hour of sorrow deep,
When I had hushed my harp to rest,
And bade its murmuring chords to sleep
In dark oblivion's cypress drest.
In cold neglect awhile it hung,
Untouched, unheeded, and unstrung,
Without a hand to bid arise
Its long forgotten symphonies;
Or if the passing breeze should sigh
In sadness o'er the fitful wire,
One faint low dirge, the sole reply,
Bespoke how weak and faint its fire.
For all its master's courage fled,
The lyre itself was cold and dead,
And that dark hour of sorrow gave
To each the semblance of the grave;
Till the dark moss and ivy spread
Their twining wreathes of gloomy hue,
And summer's rain and evening's dew
Their chilling showers upon them shed,
As if the failing chords to sever
And hush their trembling tones forever.
Silent they lay! the wintry blast
On its career of wildness past;
But not the storm that raged above,
Nor the loud waves that rolled below,
Could those neglected numbers move,
Or wake one note of joy or wo;
Save when the midnight gale would sweep
Its ruthless murmur o'er their sleep,
There came a sudden sob, that fell
As soon as rose its dreary swell.
Nor yet when spring her foliage wreathed
And poured her joyous treasures,
Could the sweet incense, round that breathed,
Awake the harp's fond measures,
Or teach one rising thrill to say
It had not withered to decay.

There came another lonely hour,

As summer ripened spring's fair blossom,
That seemed to ask some soothing power,
To cheer the darkness of my bosom;
On my neglected harp I thought,
And dreams of former rapture rose;
Deep in the gloomy shades, I sought
To bring its chords from chill repose;

But when my hand its silence broke,
No fond return of music woke,
The tangled wires refused to pour
Their diapason high,
Subdued and lost forever more
Their life and liberty:
A rude, uncertain burst of sound
Seemed all I could awaken,
So deep a spell of silence bound

The harp that was forsaken;
I strung the chords anew, but still
It was the same unsteady thrill;
Like the wild gust that sweeps the hill
And shrieks upon the vale;
When the fierce storm is loud and high;
And wakes to strangest minstrelsy
Its desolating revelry,

The Spirit of the gale.

INTELLIGENCE.

E-N.

AMERICAN ACADEMY OF ARTS AND
SCIENCES.

Prize Question.

An Enumeration and an Account of the
Materials, which exist for the History of
the Native Tribes of America, before the
Discovery of the Continent by Columbus.
By order of the Academy,
EDWARD EVERETT,
Corresponding Secretary.

Cambridge, June 1, 1824.

THE RUMFORD PREMIUM.

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Mr Joseph Backus, Keeper of the Library. We understand that the President of the Academy, the Hon. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS, We understand that two or three appli- was, at the meeting November 11, 1823, recations were made to the American Acad-quested to pronounce a discourse before the emy, at the late meeting, by claimants of Academy, at a public meeting the ensuing this important premium. The consideration summer. We are informed that Mr Adams of their respective pretensions was refer- has intimated his readiness to comply with red, as we are informed, to a Committee, the request of the Academy, and expressed consisting of Dr Jackson, Dr Bigelow, and his wish, should the want of leisure from Mr Treadwell. We trust that the great indipensable duties prevent his doing it in value of this premium, now amounting to the progress of the present season,-that nearly one thousand dollars, will, together the fulfilment of the purpose of the Acadewith the honor it would confer, prove a my may be postponed to the following year. powerful stimulus to the philosophical and mechanical genius of the country.

-

The following gentlemen have been elected to
the American Academy during the past
year.

January 29, 1823.

Dr John White Webster, Rev. Samuel
Farmer Jarvis, Dr John Ware, and Dr
Enoch Hale, of Boston, Hon. H. A. S.
Dearborn, of Roxbury, Rev. Dr Allen, Pre-
sident of Bowdoin College, and Mr D.
Stansbury, of Belle Ville, New Jersey.

By a resolution passed at a Statute meeting of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, November 11, 1823, the Academy determined to offer to the author of the best Essay, on some subject to be proposed, a premium of one hundred dollars in value, or the Academy's gold medal. At the same meeting, a committee was appointed, consisting of Rev. President Kirkland, Dr Jacob Bigelow, and Mr Edward Everett, to report to the Academy a mode of carrying the aforesaid resolution into effect, to make public the regulations for the reception of prize Essays, and the adjudication of the Mr Samuel Parkes, of London, Rev. prize, and to propose a subject for the pre- John Brazer, of Salem, Mr Joseph E. Worsent year. The Report of this Committee cester, of Cambridge, and Willard Phillips was heard and accepted by the Academy, Esq. of Boston. at a Statute Meeting held May the 25th.

In order to give effect to these doings of the Academy, public notice is hereby given, that a premium of One Hundred Dollars, or the Academy's Gold Medal shall be awarded to the author of the best Essay, upon the subject hereafter to be named.

All Essays which may be offered for this prize, must be sent to the Corresponding Secretary of the Academy, on or before the 1st of March, 1825, accompanied with sealed letters, containing the names of the authors; and the letters accompanying un

May 27, 1823.

TRENCH OPINION OF AMERICAN AUTHORS.

Mr

Within a few years, America has produced several distinguished authors. Washington Irving was the first to start in the career of romance, and he has been followed by several of his countrymen. Cooper in "The Spy," and in "The Pioneers," has signalized himself as the pupil of a great master, Sir Walter Scott; but he reminds us too often, in his best scenes, that he is only an imitator. Still, we must congratulate America upon these achievements in the regions of imagination. Although not rich in ancient tradition, she presents to her historians, subjects full of interest,the energetic character of a people which has founded its own liberty, industry, and commerce, the animated and glorious scenes of a recent war, undertaken in a noble cause-the struggles of the savage aborigines with the civilization which threatened to overwhelm them; and the mixture of the English and American man

November 11, 1823.
William Jackson Hooker, Professor of
Botany in the University of Glasgow, Hon.
Judge Howe, of Northampton, Caleb Cush-
ing Esq., of Newburyport, Mr Edward
Channing, Professor of Rhetoric and Ora-ners and customs.
tory in the University of Cambridge, Mr
Thomas Nuttall, Curator of the Botanic
garden, Cambridge, Hon. Lemuel Shaw,
and Mr Daniel Treadwell, of Boston.

February 18, 1824.

Alexander H. Everett, Chargé d'Affaires at the Court of the Netherlands, Dr Robert

May 25, 1824.

AMERICAN GEOGRAPHY.

A new and complete Geography of the United States of America, has been published in the German language, at Weimar, It forms the seventeenth volume of a genby G. Hassel, containing 1200 8vo pages. eral system of geography. A French re

successful Essays shall be destroyed uno- Hare, Professor in the University of Penn-viewer describes it as the most complete pened. sylvania, Hon. Adam Seybert, of Philadel Immediately on the receipt of an Essay,phia, Hon. Leverett Saltonstall, of Salem, A circumstance, however, which seems to account of the United States yet published. it shall be transmitted by the Correspond- George Blake Esq., J. T. Austin Esq., James ing Secretary to the Committee of Publi- Savage Esq., of Boston. cations of the Academy, who shall award the premium or medal to the best Essay; but if no Essay shall be offered, which in the judgment of the Committee is worthy of the prize, then the prize shall not be assigned for that year.

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give him serious concern, is the number of towns to which the Americans assign the same name. He apprehends much inconvenience from this cause. "We find," says he, "six towns named Fairfield, ten La Fayette without reckoning two called Fayetteville, six Frankfort, eight Lancaster, nineteen Monroe, forty-two Franklin, and fifty-five Washington. What confusion will one day arise when these places have all acquired some importance, and the postoffice transmits letters to them in considerable numbers! It will be well for correspondents to mark on their letters both state and county; it is impossible but that

fifty-five Washingtons should cause some vexation to geographers, and excite some little ill temper among postmasters against the great man who has given a name to so many cities and villages."

ATLANTIC MAGAZINE.

The first number of a new periodical work, with this title, has just appeared from the press of Bliss and White of New York. It is to be published monthly, and to be devoted to American literature and science.

MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.

Shakspeare's Merry Wives of Windsor has lately been transformed into a comic opera and performed as such at Drury Lane. All the songs, duets, &c. are professedly taken from Shakspeare himself, by which the author seems to have intended to convey the meaning, that there is no one word in any of these songs which is not also in some of Shakspeare's works. They are literally nothing more than a long string of shreds and patches,-first a line from one play, and two from another, then a few

the general habit of consuming it. It is
easy to conjecture how advantageously it
would have operated, when, even now, we
derive so much benefit from the fasts of
the Catholic Church as the ground of a
branch of commerce."

SKELETON OF A MAMMOTH.

Another skeleton of the great Mastodon of Cuvier, the American mammoth, has been discovered at Poplar, in Monmouth county, N. J. and brought to New York by Drs Van Rensselaer, Kay, and Cooper of that city. This skeleton is nearly or quite entire. It was found upon the farm of Mr Croxson, an intelligent citizen of Poplar, bedded in a swamp, some of the bones being buried ten feet beneath the surface. The bones will soon be put together and deposited in the Lyceum of Natural History. The skeleton appears to be but little inferior in size to that in Peale's museum at Philadelphia.

DYAR'S IMPROVED CLOCK.

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M. de Montgery has applied purified bitumen to the purposes of steam engines. This substance, after having been used in the form of vapour, serves again as a combustible. The fireplace, the pipe and mechanism, are contained within the boiler, which is itself inclosed in a double case. The vapour may therefore be raised to a very high degree of tension, without danger; and this advantage, joined to several others, renders the bulk of this new machine, from forty to fifty times smaller than that of the present steam-engines of equal

The most important feature in Mr Dyar's from one of the sonnets, and, lastly, perhaps improvement, consists in the application of to make up the number, another odd line the spiral teeth to the wheel work of clocks, from Venus and Adonis! This, with some and in this the pinion is reduced to a single exception, is the character of them all. power. tooth. By this happy idea, he has greatNo harlequin's jacket ever exhibited so motly a composition, and they are withaly reduced the wheel work necessary to a clock, and the friction is diminished in so badly stitched together, that, whether a still greater degree; as all who are acsaid or sung, they convey not the slightest quainted with the spiral gearing are aware, meaning of any sort or kind. In its pres- that the point of contact, between two ent state, this piece is an insult to Shaks-wheels with spiral teeth, always coincides peare, an insult to common sense, and an with the line of centres. In addition to annoyance to every man who knows how to estimate a sterling comedy.

PRINTING IN PARIS.

Six hundred and eighty presses are actively employed at Paris, and from three to four thousand printers. It is estimated that of every hundred works published, sixtyeight relate to the belles-lettres, history, or politics; twenty to the sciences and the arts; and twelve to theology and jurisprudence. The average price of a thousand copies of a printed sheet, paper included, is sixty-two francs. The annual consumption of paper is 356,000 reams.

HERRING FISHERY.

In speaking, in an English journal, of the herring fishery of Great Britain, Dr Mac Culloch remarks, "that it has been a singularly unfortunate circumstance, that those who framed the model of our reformed

church did not retain at least the weekly fast. It is a misfortune that they had not been persons of more general views and economists. Much was retained that was matter of indifference on the great points at issue, for the sole purpose of drawing a line short of the extremity of reform. Had this also been retained, a point in itself indifferent, the beneficial consequences would have been very great, as it would not only have operated by its direct effects, but have tended to diffuse the general commerce of fish in the interior of our own country, and

this improvement he has contrived a very
ingenious method of suspending the pendu-
lum, by which he expects to realize the ad-
vantages which have been anticipated
from its vibration in a cycloidal arch. This
part of the invention is not yet, however,
perfectly complete.

COMET OF 1823.

The elements of this comet as computed
by Mr Warren Colburn of Waltham, Mas-
sachusetts, are as follows.
Perihelion distance (the sun's mean dis-

0.2490054
9.3962088

tance from the earth being 1)
Logarithm of Perihelion distance
Time of passing of Perihelion, mean time at Bos-
ton, 1823, Dec. 8d. 14h. 06' 52".
Inclination of the orbit to the ecliptic 75° 06′ 49′′"
Longitude of the ascending node 302, 37' 41"
Motion retrograde.
Place of the Perihelion (on the orbit) 271 39′ 11′′

These elements agree very nearly with
those determined by Dr Brinkley at Dub-
lin, much more nearly than could have been
expected considering the different means of
observation possessed by the two observers.
It is considered as a new comet.

AMERICAN MEDICAL SCIENCE.

A late number of the London Medical and Physical Journal, in a review of an American medical work, has the following passage. “Our transatlantic brethren have taken mortal offence at an expression which once fell from the Edinburgh reviewers,

THE COMPONIUM.
Under this name a new and wonderful

musical instrument has been exhibited at
Paris. It is formed upon the same general
plan as the common barrel organ, but is
more particularly distinguished from it by
the circumstance that it not only plays the
tunes marked upon it with precision, but
that it also improvises, and has hence been
called the Musical Improvisator. A theme
is written upon the barrel; the instrument
plays it over, to render it familiar to the
auditor; and afterwards, left to itself, and
without any external impulse, executes an
infinity of variations on the same theme!
However complicated the variations, they
are always in strict accordance with the
rules of composition.

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