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We understand that a new edition of the late Archdeacon Daubeny's celebrated work, The Guide to the Church, is in preparation. It will be published in November, in two volumes, and the profis will be applied to the Pantonian Theological Professorship în Edinburgh belonging to the Scottish Episcopal Church. A Memoir of the Author, by his son, Colonel Daubeny, of Bath, and a portrait, will be prefixed to this edition, which is in a state of very considerable forwardness.

In a few days will be published, Dr Calamy's Historical Account of his own Life, with some Reflections upon the Times in which he lived, from 1671 to 1731...,

The work announced under the title of Stories of Waterloo" is on the eve of publication.

The Novel called Herbert Milton has been translated into German, by Mr Richards, formerly a Lieutenant in the Hanoverian service; and the same gentleman is now employed on Devereux, having a ready given Pelham and The Disowned a German dress. These translations are said to be popular in Germany.

There will shortly appear an Account of Captain Mignan's Pedestrian Journey in Southern Mesopotamia, Ul Jezira, and the Arabian Irak. For some years past, the Captain has commanded the bodyguard of the East India Company resident in Turkish Arabia, and is the first and only Englishman that ever performed a tour on foot through these unfrequented countries, under the assumed garb and character of a Turkish officer, in the service of his Highness the Pasha of Bagdad. This indefatigable young traveller has traversed a great part of Arabia, Susiana, Chaldea, Assyria, Adiabene, and the whole of ancient Babylonia.

Mr and Mrs Lockhart are still on a visit to Sir Walter Scott, at Abbotsford. Mr L. has just finished his new edition of The Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, for writing which, it is said, Murray has given him five hundred guineas.

WILLS OF SHAKSPEARE, MILTON, AND NAPOLEON BONAPARTE -The last wills and testaments of the three greatest men of modern ages are tied up in one sheet of foolscap, and may be seen together at Doctors-Commons. In the will of the bard of Avon is an interlineation in his own handwriting;-"I give unto my wife my brown best bed with the furniture." It is proved by William Bryde, July, 1616. The will of the minstrel of Paradise is a nuncupative one, taken by his daughter, the great poet being blind. The will of Napoleon is signed in a bold style of handwriting; the codicil, on the contrary, written shortly before his death, exhibits the then west state of his body.

FINE ARTS.-Campbell's colossal Equestrian Statue of the Earl of Hopetoun may be seen at the Rooms of the Royal Institution, The place does not do it full justice, for its proportions are calculated for an elevated situation. There is something fine and noble in the expression of the whole group. The neck and legs of the horse are beautiful. The outline drawing from Macdonald's statues, the graphed by Forrester, which we announced some time ago, has bec put into our hands. It is no compliment to Lander to say that conveys a perfect notion of the group, which is all it aims at; but we have been induced again to notice it in justice to the lithographer He has succeeded in giving a sharper and clearer outline than se have ever before seen in a lithographic drawing.-The success competitor for the statue of the Duke of York will not be announce till January. In order that the judges may be the better enabled t make up their minds, the models and sketches have been depos meanwhile in a cellar ! In Paris, when such competitions take place, the works of the competitors are publicly exhibited; but we supp that our judges are not so confident as the Parisians in their power remain uninfluenced by the small talk of small crities. Fraser Edmonstone visited Edinburgh the other day; and a greater tha both-WILKIE is here just now. He has been making an excele speech at the Lord Provost's inaugural dinner.

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LITERARY CRITICISM.

PRICE 60.

wished to be left alone with the stranger, removed from the apartment. When they returned, the stranger had disappeared. Next morning, a detachment of troops arThe Borderers, a Tale. By the Author of "The Spy," rived. The contents of the search-warrant which they "The Red Rover," "The Prairie," &c. In three vo-produced remained a secret with Mark Heathcote; but lumes, 8vo. Pp. 299, 311, & 316. London. Henry the manner in which the strict examination of every corColburn and Richard Bentley. 1829. ner of the house was conducted, and some chance expressions which fell from them, impressed the household with the conviction, that the object of their pursuit was the mysterious visitant of the preceding evening. The soldiers remained about the settlement for some days, and to all appearance were inclined to have made a yet longer stay, had they not been frightened off by a jealous servingman's tales of the Indians.

On the night of the stranger's visit, an Indian boy had been taken prisoner, and had been kept on the settlement by Mark, in hopes that intercourse with his family might prove a means of civilizing and converting him to Christianity. Mr Cooper paints in a quiet and touching manner the boy's loneliness among strangers, and his yearnings after his native haunts:

THE materials out of which Mr Cooper has constructed this work, are not so new to his readers on this side of the Atlantic as those of which his novels have generally consisted. A sketch-feeble enough, it is true-of the history of King Philip, is to be found in Washington Irving's Sketch Book; the destruction of an out-settlement of Europeans, in which there was an Indian captive and a child, has already been described by Cooper's fair countrywoman, the amiable author of "Hope Lessly;" and the attack of a frontier village, with the interposition of one of the fugitive judges of Charles I., lured from his hiding-place by the danger of his countrymen, is a legend which Sir Walter Scott has put into the mouth of Major Bridgenorth. These, with the opportunities which they afford of contrasting Indian character with that of the white intruders, or of pourtraying the effect of converse with Europeans upon the mind of the natives, and of domiciliation in a wigwam upon a child of civilization, will go nigh to exhaust the contents of "The Wept of Wishton-wish." But, as Mr Cooper has wrought up his ma-judgment. Ruth, touched to the heart by this silent but terials after his own fashion, it will be fair to give an outline of his story, and some specimens of his way of telling it, before indulging in further remark upon it.

Captain Mark Heathcote, a strict but conscientious Puritan, laid aside his sword at an early period of those civil wars which terminated in the temporary abolition of monarchy in England, and crossed the Atlantic with his family. But even in the non-conforming province of Massachusetts, he felt his peculiar notions restrained by the presence of divines, and resolved, at an advanced age, to remove his habitation farther into the forest, there to worship God entirely according to his own notions. After a pretty diffuse retrospective detail of these events, the author begins his story in good earnest, by introducing us to the old man and his family at their settlement of Wishton-Wish, so called after an American bird, the first that the new-comers saw in the valley. Mark is riding home from his harvest field when he encounters a traveller, on a sorely jaded horse, who entreated food and shelter. In a newly-planted colony such things are readily granted. The stranger was introduced to the family, and the night was wearing away in sober conversation, when a remark of one of the inmates, that the rumours of disquiets among the savages must be unfounded, since one from the source of information travelled unarmed, led him to produce his concealed weapons. A witless boy, employed in tending the cattle, immediately recognised, on the blade of his long hanting knife, the wool of a wedder which was amissing. The master of the family called upon the stranger to explain this circumstance; and was answered by a request that he would look at the pistols on the table, as he might find on them something still more astonishing. His son and family, understanding from old Heathcote that he

"Instead of joining in the play of the other children, the young captive would stand aloof, and regard their sports with a vacant eye; or, drawing near to the palisadoes, he often passed hours in gazing at those boundless forests in which he first drew breath, and which probably contained all that was most prized in the estimation of his simple

The resolute

expressive exhibition of suffering, endeavoured in vain to win
his confidence, with a view of enticing him into employ-
ments that might serve to relieve his care.
but still quiet boy would not be lured into a forgetfulness
of his origin. He appeared to comprehend the kind inten-
tions of his gentle mistress, and frequently he even suffered
himself to be led by the mother into the centre of her own
joyous and merry offspring; but it was only to look upon
their amusements with his former cold air, and to return,
at the first opportunity, to his beloved site at the pickets.
consciousness of the nature of the discourse of which he was
Still there were singular and even mysterious evidences of a
occasionally an auditor, that would have betrayed greater
familiarity with the language and opinions of the inhabi-
tants of the valley, than his known origin and his absolute
withdrawal from communication could give reason to ex-
pect. This important and inexplicable fact was proved by
the frequent and meaning glances of his dark eye, when
aught was uttered in his hearing that affected, ever so re-
motely, his own condition; and once or twice, by the
haughty gleamings of ferocity that escaped him, when Eben
Dudley was heard to vaunt the prowess of the white men
in their encounters with the original owners of the coun-
try."

The winter passed tranquilly over the heads of the inhabitants of Wish-ton-Wish. They began to take an interest in their Indian boy, and many were the devices suggested by the good-natured yeomen for securing his return, with a view to admit of his joining in their hunting expeditions. At last, on a day when the spring was soon expected, the old Puritan declared that the boy might now be allowed to accompany them, for he was assured that he would return. The hunting party were late of coming back; and when they did come, the Indian was not with them. While they were discoursing of his disappearance, and of a portent which had present

tion.

lonists to be aware that it was the chief of the pale-faces holding communion with his God. Partly in awe, and partly in doubt of what might be the consequences of so mysterious an asking, the dark crowd withdrew to a little distance, and silently watched the progress of the destruc"The roof of the block rekindled, and by the light that shone through the loops, it was but too evident the interior was in a blaze. Once or twice smothered sounds came out of the place, as if suppressed shricks were escaping the females; but they ceased so suddenly as to leave doubts among their own excited fancies. The savages had witnessed many the auditors whether it were more than the deception of a similar scene of human suffering, but never one before in which death was received with so unmoyed a calmness. The serenity that reigned in the blazing block communicated to them a feeling of awe, and when the pile came, a tumbling and blackened mass of ruins, to the earth, they avoided the place, like men that dreaded the vengeance of a Deity, who knew how to infuse so deep a sentiment of resignation in the breasts of his worshippers."

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and set about burying their dead, and re-edifying their dwellings, with all the deep religious trust, and stub born perseverance of their sect.

ed itself to one of their number, the conch-shell, which hung at the postern gate sounded, at first feebly, then with a more confirmed note. It proved to be the stranger who, on his former visit, had departed so mysteriously, and with him the Indian boy. The stranger de manded a conference apart with old Mark, which was just ended when the conch again sounded, at first feebly, then with a more confirmed note, as if it had been an echo of the stranger's summons.' A party proceeded to the postern, but no answer was returned to their challenge. One of them remained in ambush, but no one appeared, nor was the summons repeated. Towards morning, as the whole family were assembled, debating what might be the meaning of this disturbance, the conch was again heard, and again, as formerly, at first with a feeble, then with a stronger blast. The stranger under took to join the ambush this time. He had ensconced himself, along with one of the farm-servants in one of the out-houses, when, after a very interesting scene, it was found that the Indians were in the neighbourhood, The family had not, however, all perished in this fiery and a hot rencontre was the result. They were worsted, destruction. Those of them who had found shelter in however, and in conformity to their mode of warfare, the block, took refuge, when all their efforts proved unwhen discomfited in a first attack, kept themselves quiet availing, in the exhausted well; and as soon as the Infor a while. The stranger employed the interval in seek-dians had withdrawn, they issued from their confinement, ing to elicit some information from a captive, who, on its being discovered that he belonged to the tribe of the besiegers, was sent as an envoy to enquire their intentions and cause of quarrel. He brought back for answer The story now passes over several years in silence, and a bundle of arrows, wrapt in the skin of a rattlesnake. when we again get sight of Wish-ton-Wish and its inhaIt being now evident to those in the house that their ut-bitants, we find both considerably altered. The clearing ter destruction was contemplated, the men betook them has been extended wide and broad into the forest; where selves to the outer defences. In a short time the attack once the solitary mansion of Mark Heathcote stood, there was renewed: the Indians pressed on with ferocity; the is now a gentleman's residence, and a populous village, Europeans defended themselves with dogged resolution. with its church, and that indispensable appendage of a The besiegers applied fire to the out-houses, which lay at frontier settlement, a large defensible building. Many of some distance round the palisadoes,, and in a few mo- old Heathcote's hirelings have become householders, and ments they were in a flame. Still the war continued, influential men in their little community. The Patill the heat, the flashing of the flames, and arrows tipt triarch himself has grown older, and the lapse of years with fire, succeeded in spreading the conflagration to the has begun to tell its tale even on his son. But the most dwelling-house and its defences. The family of the marked difference is on the bereaved mother, whose sorHeathcotes betook themselves to the blockhouse, a kind row for her daughter's loss, formerly mentioned as haof citadel, the basement story of which was built with ving been captured when a child by the Indians, has paled stone, the upper one, like all the rest of the buildings, of her cheek and dimmed her eye. Her wasted form serves, wood. Owing to the hurry of the moment, and the si-like the scorched and blackened ruin in their neighbourmultaneous irruption of the Indians, a grandchild of the hood, to keep alive the fearful past iu the bosom of happier captain, and a half-witted boy who was carrying her, fell days. One Sabbath morning, an inhabitant of the village, behind, and were captured. The Indians strove to ex-who had been on the outlook, brought to Heathcote a Eutend the burning to the blockhouse; "At this trying moment the appalling cry was heard in "opean, who had adopted the dress and customs of the Indians. One of the females recognised in the changeling the block, that the well had failed. The buckets ascended her brother, the same half-witted lad who had been taken as empty as they went down, and they were thrown aside' as no longer useful. The savages seemed to comprehend captive on the night of the burning of Wish-ton-Wish. their advantage, for they profited by the confusion that sheThe mother's hopes to learn something of her child's fate ceeded among the assailed to feed the slumbering fires. The were again excited; but in vain, for the weak intellects of flames kindled fiercely, and in less than a minute they be the youth had been so engrossed and confused with the came too violent to be subdued. They were soon seen play-associations of his forest life, that no blandishments could ing on the planks of the floor above. The subtle element flashed from point to point, and it was not long ere it was stealing up the outer side of the heated block itself.

recall the remembrance of his boyish days. As ineffectual were all attempts to discover what had brought him back.

The time arrived for the community to meet together "The savages now knew that conquest was sure. Yells and whoopings proclaimed the fierce delight with which in a new church which they had built, but the service of they witnessed the certainty of their victory. Still there the day was doomed to receive a fearful interruption. was something portentous in the death-like silence with While it was proceeding, the mysterious stranger entered which the victims within the block awaited their fate. The the building, and called upon the men to stand to their whole exterior of the building was already wrapped in arms, for the Indians were upon them; a summons flames, and yet no show of further resistance, no petition which was soon enforced by the whoops of the savages for mercy, issued from its bosom. The unnatural and frightful stillness that reigned within was gradually com- rising on all sides from under the arches of the forest. municated to those without. The cries and shouts of tri- Under the command of this extraordinary man, to whom umph ceased, and the crackling of the flames or the falling all yielded an involuntary obedience, the villagers divided of timber in the adjoining buildings alone disturbed the aw-themselves into three parties, two of which hastened to ful calm. At length a solitary voice was heard in the block, oppose the enemy, while the third proceeded to the rescue Its tones were deep, solemn, and imploring. The fierce of the Heathcotes. This last division was defeated; beings who surrounded the glowing pile bent forward to old Heathcote, his son, and grandson, with the stranger, listen, for their quick faculties caught the first sounds that were audible. It was Mark Heathcote pouring out his taken prisoners. A dispute arose between the allied spirit in prayer. The petition was fervent, but steady; leaders of the Indians, Metacom, (the King Philip of and though uttered in words that were unintelligible to Washington Irving, and Conanchet, the young Sachem those without, they knew enough of the practices of the co- of the Narragansets, the same who had, when a boy, been

and

The

the unwilling inmate of Heathcote's dwelling,) respecting the fate of the prisoners. The latter insisted upon saving them, and as his warriors had made the capture, Metacom could not resist his will. The allies separated in disgust, and their quarrel saved the settlement. appearance of the beautiful creature, with whose picture we last week presented our readers, explained Conanchet's interest in the captives. She was the daughter of Ruth, and the wife of the Sachem. It was only, however, the body of her child that the afflicted mother gained the soul was that of an Indian. pa

she whispered. Let the spirit depart, if such be His holy

will in the blessedness of infant innocence.'

66

Why do Mark and Martha stay?' continued the other.' woods; the heathen may be out of their towns, and one 'It is not safe, thou knowest, mother, to wander far in the cannot say what evil chance might happen to the indiscreet.' "A groan struggled from the chest of Content, and the muscular hand of Dudley compressed itself on the shoulder of his wife, until the breathlessly-attentive woman withdrew, unconsciously, with pain,one altamate re-remember thy warnings, mother; and those children do so "I've said as much to Mark, for he doth not always do not chide him if he stray too far-mother, thou wilt not love to wander together! But Mark is in common good; chide ?

While Ruth endeavoured to re-awaken in her child the memory of her infant years, Conanchet held converse with the stranger, who proved to be one of the fugitive judges of Charles I. on the rock where he had built his solitary eyry....... The result of their communing was a journey in search of Metacom, with a view to win him to terms of peace. They encountered him, and he led them to the spot where he was lurking with a few followers. The appeals made to him by the white man were in vain; they elicited nothing but cutting sarcasms. The conversation was interrupted by the sound of musketry. A disaffected warrior of Metacom had betrayed the secret of his lurking place, and led thither a body of Europeans and Pequods, a tribe of natives in alliance with the colo nists. Metacom, after dashing out the brains of the traie tor, retreated after his followers. Conatichet and the Englishman, endeavouring to retreat in another direction, were discovered and fired upon, but without effect. The allied Indians were, however, on their track, and the European was old and stiff. The generous Indian bore him to a hiding-place, e. then exposed himself to the view of the pursuers, and thus drew the chase upon himself. His strength failing and his gun being unloaded, he turned to meet death like a chief, and allowed his enemies to seize him without a struggle. He fell into the hands of an hereditary enemy. The captive asked only one "favour-leave to revisit his wife, and if that were permit ted, he promised to return to die. His request was granted; he departed; found means to lure his beloved, one from her father's house, and led her into the forest, where they might take their last farewell."''This accom- Ruth felt the force of her grasp, and heard the breathplished, he returned and met his death. The relatives of ing of a few words of petition, after which the voice was the European bud which had blossomed in an Indian mute, and the hands relaxed their hold. When the face of wigwam, seeking the fugitive, found her senseless on the the nearly insensible parent was withdrawn, the dead apbody of her husband. There is something which to us intelligence. The look of the Narraganset was still, as in peared to gaze, at each other with a mysterious unearthly is inexpressibly touching in the manner in which her fe his hour of pride, haughty, unyielding, and filled with devered aberrations lead her back to childhood fiance; while that of the creature which had so long lived “The divine then lifted up his voice, under the arches of in his kindness was perplexed,, timid, but not withored character of hope." the forest, in an ardent, pious, and eloquent petition. When this solemn duty was performed, attention was again be stowed on the sufferer. To the surprise of all, it was found that the blood had revisited her face, and that her radiant eyes were lighted with an expression of brightness and

The youth turned his head, for even at that moment the pride of young manhood prompted him to conceal his

weakness. Ar 15 T Jeid vocante a thier int

Hast prayed to-day, my daughter ? said Ruth, strugto His blessed name, even though we are houseless in the gling to be composed. Thon shouldst not forget thy duty woods.

I will pray now, mother,' said the creature of this mysterious hallucination, struggling to bow her face into the lap of Ruth. Her wish was indulged, and for a minute the same low, childish voice was heard distinctly repeating the words of a prayer adapted to the earliest period of life. Feeble as were the sounds, none of their intonations escaped the listeners, until near the close, when a species of holy calm seemed to absorb the utterance. raised the form of h Ruth child, and saw that the features bore the placid look of a sleeping infant. Life played upon them as the flickering light lingers on the dying torch. Her dove-like eyes looked up into the face of Ruth, and the anguish of the mother was alleviated by a smile of intelligence and love. The full and, sweet organs rolled from face to On Whittal they became perplexed and doubtful; but when face, recognition and pleasure accompanying each change. they met the fixed, frowning, and still commanding eye of the dead chief, their wandering ceased for ever. There was a minute during which fear, doubt, wildness, and early recollections, struggled for the mastery. The hands of NarraMattah trembled, and she clung convulsively to the robe of Ruth.o roitmigail mos un guibuss fqz ir babaaysite ent "Mother, mother!' whispered the agitated victim of so conflicting emotions, I will pray again—an evil spirit besets me

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Long years after these events, a traveller found, in the valley where they had occurred, a rude stone, on which was engraven The Narraganset ;" and nigh it one, more than half o'ergrown with moss, bearing the inscriptionof Wish-ton-Wishindu ao enfor

peace. She even motioned to be raised, in order that those The We, even from this unsatisfactory abstract,

round her person might be better seen, podamo stor, It will Dost know us?' asked the trembling Ruth,

Look that the Borderers consists properly of two tales, which on thy friends, long-mourned and much-suffering daughter! 'Tis she who sorrowed over thy infant afflictions, who are respectively wound up, the first by the Catastrophe rejoiced in thy childish happiness, and who hath so bitterly of the Indian Siege the second by the Death of the› wept thy loss, that craveth the boon. In this awful mo- Narraganset Chief. The historical romance is, it is true, ment recall the lessons of youth. Surely, surely, the Godsuch a slip-shod lawless style of composition, that this that bestowed thee in mercy, though he hath led thee on wonderful and inscrutable path, will not desert thee at the end! Think of thy early instruction, child of my love freble of spirit as thou art, the seed may yet quicken, though thath been cast where the glory of the promise hath so ong been hid." 9. to bangos 307 To

mere want of unity might of itself be esteemed a trifling peccadillo. As the author has, however, seen fit to preface either half with one of those prefatory descriptions of the social condition of the heroes, which begin to be recognised as the legitimate proemiums of all such works, Mother" said a low struggling voice In reply. The the break, makes the story drag almost as tediously as word reached every ear, and it caused a general and breathVirgil's broken-backed serpenti Moreover, the escape of ess attention: The sound was soft and low; perhaps in the

antile; but it was uttered without accent, and clearly. ‚d with theote family from the flames, is an incident› ***Mother, why are we in the forest 2 continued, the bable to admit of its being used in works of fiction, which range of possibility, but not sufficiently propeaker. Hath any oue robbed us of our home, that we ought always to compensate well beneath the treas?" for their want of essential "Ruth raised a hand imploringly, for none to interrupt verity, by a stricter adherence to verisimilitude. 'Lastly, The illusion. Buż Suiza nofpitude we think that we have occasionally caught Mr Cooper Nature hath revived the recollections of her youth, repeating himself in this work. His incessant compari

sons of the Indians to "pieces of dark statuary,”—the "streams of fire" which he throws out whenever a gun is fired, and some other pet phrases, come across our ear with a dreary consciousness of old acquaintance. The improbable escape of the Heathcotes, too, is an old stage trick, which we find repeated in more than one of his works, for the purpose of preserving a useful agent; and the Esculapius of Wish-ton-Wish is what an Irishman would call a resurrection of the botanical hero of the Prairie in an earlier age, as that worthy was, in his turn, but the reanimated dry bones of Dr Sitgreave.

These are the faults which we have to find with Mr Cooper's new work; and some of them are so inseparably interwoven with the very texture of the story, that they force us to pronounce it one of his less successful efforts. At the same time, it is but justice to remark, that many passages are worthy of the author, The spectral appearances of the old regicide, sure prognostics of impending danger, and the mystery which wraps him to the end, are finely conceived. Narra-mättah, the Indianised daughter of Content Heathcote, is one of the most lovely, fairy-like creations we have met with. The high religious feeling with which the principal actors are imbued, is worthy of those stubborn, but conscientious enthusiasts, who stamped upon American society that character of persevering enterprise, from which her greatness takes its rise. The humour, too, in the lighter passages, is softer, more chastened, and with none of that tendency to something strongly resembling vulgarity, which disfigured some of the author's earlier works.

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12mo, pp. 364.

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1830.

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"Not these, O, mighty Master!-Though their lays
Be unto man's free heart, and tears, and praise,
Hallow'd for evermore!

And not the buried conquerors! Let them sleep,
And let the flowery earth her sabbaths keep
In joy, from shore to shore!

"But if the narrow house may be so moved,
Call the bright shadows of the most beloved,,
Back from their couch of rest!
That I may learn if their meek eyes be fill'd
With peace; if human love hath ever stillď ́
The yearning human breast.'

"Away, fond youth! An idle quest is thine:
These have no trophy, no memorial shrine;
I know not of their place!

'Midst the dim valleys, with a secret flow,
Their lives, like shepherd reed notes, fast and low
Have pass'd, and left no trace.

And the wild sounds of melancholy rills,
Their covering turf may bloom;

But ne'er hath Fame made relics of its flowers,
Never hath pilgrim sought their household bowers,
Or poet hail'd their tomb.'

"Adieu, then, Master of the midnight spell!
Some voice, perchance, by those lone graves, may tell
That which I piue to know!

I haste to seek, from woods and valleys deep,
Where the beloved are laid in lowly sleep,
Records of joy and woe!""

A NUMBER of people ridicule young ladies and gentle-"Haply begirt with shadowy woods and hills, men for keeping albums. We do not approve of this ridicule. An album is commonly the repository of certain pretty things in prose and verse, and however silly the selections may occasionally be, its unquestionable tendency is to refine the taste and soften the manners of its owner. An album is no doubt but a very small, step in the belles lettres, but it is better than a monkey, a lap-dog, a black boy, or a peeroquet. On the same principle, though books bound in green and gold do not always contain the most strengthening intellectual food, they nevertheless put many people in the way of eating a little who would not otherwise touch a morsel. For this reason, therefore, we intend patronizing, more or less, the whole of the sixteen annuals for 1830; and we begin with the Souvenir, because, to confess the truth, it is, and has always been, our favourite. At present six annuals lie on our table, the first of the species for 1830 which have crossed the Tweed; and all we intend doing to-day is to give our readers a rapid coup-d'œil of the contents of each. Ere long we shall write one of the most dreamy and delightful articles about the whole of them that was ever penned.

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The Souvenir now before us, which is the sixth of its race, opens with a very pretty prose tale, by Grattan, the author of "High Ways and By Ways," entitled, Love Draught," which is followed by upwards of seventy original pieces in prose and verse. Of these many are contributed by authors of much respectability, though none, perhaps, by authors of the very highest eminence, unless we except Mrs Hemans. The volume contains three of her poems, all of which are beautiful. As a specimen, we select the one we like most h

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Mrs Mary Howitt is another female writer, who, we observe, contributes largely to the forthcoming annuals, and who, we think, has of late improved so much, that we are

almost inclined to rank her next to Mrs Hemans. "The Sale of the Pet Lamb," and "The Faery Oath," both by her, in the Souvenir, are very favourable specimens of her abilities. Caroline Bowles is a poetess for whom we have also a great regard; we are not sure, however, that “The Dying Mother to her Infant," her only contribu tion to the Souvenir, is one of her most successful efforts. The Hon. Mrs Norton has of late distinguished herself not a little as a worshipper of the Muses. The verses by her, entitled, "Bring back the Chain," are striking and spirited. Miss Jewsbury cannot perhaps be said to be improving greatly, but there is no need for it, seeing she is already well known as a elever writer; and the “Siugwho is ing Bird at Sea" bears testimony to the power she pos sesses over the chords of the lyre. Miss Mitford, good both in prose and verse, has also lent her aid. There is a poem by Joanna Baillie" To Mrs Siddons,” illustra tive of one of the embellishments, which we should have quoted, had it not been merely a reprint from a volume of poems edited by that lady. It is full of that fine unaffected vigour of thought and sentiment which keeps Miss Baillie still at the top of our list of female writers. T "Oberon and K. Hervey has contributed two poems, Titania," and "Inez;" they are both sweet and tasteful,

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