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be bleezing and bragging about being in the police office; for it stands to reason ye wouldna be there for ony gude.

"Deil tak' me," cried Tammy, jumping up on the meal girnel, and brandishing the pint stoup, "if I dinna fing this at the head o' the first man wha says a word afore I be done wi' my story:And as I said before, I fell in-"

Poor Tammy was not at all prepared for his words being so soon verified, for, in his eagerness to enforce attention, he stamped violently with his hobnailed shoe on the girnel, which giving way with a loud crash, Tammy suddenly disappeared from the view of the astonished party. Robin, who had barely time to save himself from the falling ruins, was still laughing with all his might, when Mrs Scoreup burst in upon them, saying, "What the sorrow is a' this stramash about?"--but seeing a pale and ghastly figure rearing itself from the very heart of her meal girnel, she ejaculated, "Gude preserve us!" and, retreating a few steps, seized the broth ladle, and prepared to stand on the defensive.

At this moment Grizzy Tacket made her appearance at the open door, saying, " Is blethering Tam here?" "Help me out, Robin, man," cried Tammy. "Help ye out!" said Grizzy; "what the sorrow took ye in there, ye drucken ne'er-do-weel ?" "Dinna abuse your gudeman, wife," said Jamie Wil

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And each went aff their separate way,
Resolved to meet anither day.

By Derwent Conway, Author of " Solitary Walks through
‚” “ Personal Narrative of a Journey through
many Lands,'
Norway, Sweden, and Denmark," &c.

Ir surprises me that I have found courage to commit to paper my "Hints" upon this subject, because I have lived long enough in the world to have discovered how illnatured a world it is, and how difficult a matter it will be to get through this article, and speak my mind as I go along, and, at the same time, avoid the charge of sensuality. I have considerable hopes, however, that my real motive and character will be discovered by some grave, reflecting old gentleman, who is anxious to enjoy life as much as possible, and who, sitting perhaps with his pint of pale sherry before him, may silence any such impertinence as meets his ear, in some such words as the following :" Excuse me, gentlemen, but I really think you have mistaken the character of the author of the Hints, and his motive in making them public; he seems to me to be more of a philanthropist, than either an epicure or a sensualist ;" and the old gentleman would speak nothing but the truth. I have communicated my Hints to the world, from a conviction that one-half of the world bid adieu to it, without having once partaken of any enjoyment with the highest relish of which it is susceptible. It is true, indeed, that the varieties which exist in the mental and corporeal capabilities of mankind, fix precisely as many limits to the powers of enjoyment; but my desire is, that every man should have the power of filling his own measure to the brim ;-if this be not a philanthropic desire, then God help the abolitionists; they stint their philanthropy to the "poor Blacks," including the "climbing boys," but mine embraces in its design the whole human race, it is neither limited to sect nor colour; Jew, Christian, and Infidel, Whites and Blacks, are alike capable of enjoyment, and therefore may equally profit by my "hints for an additional relish." This, I think, forms a very pretty introduction to my subject, upon which the good-natured reader is now, I daresay, disposed to enter, with a prepossession in favour of me and my philanthropy: as for the censorious, I leave them to the chastisement of the old gentleman, who has ordered another pint of sherry, and has taken up the cudgels for me very warmly.

I incline to refer the contempt which is sometimes expressed for the pleasures of the table to one of three things;-a morbid state of the moral judgment, which looks upon the enjoyments of this life, and the powers which can make them our own, only as so many temptations to be resisted, and so many enemies to be vanquished; or, an imperfect organization of certain of the senses, which hinders the individual from perceiving the enjoyments which he affects to perceive, and yet to despise; or, lastly, hypocrisy, which parades an indifference that is not felt, and probably not acted upon. I think I am quite warranted in concluding, that no man, in the full possession of his reason, with the perfect use of his senses, and with sincerity in his character, will either despise, or affect to despise, the pleasures of the table.

“New girnel!” exclaimed Grizzy, with a provoking sneer, "it's about as auld as yoursell, and as little worth." "Ye ill-tongued randy!" cried Mrs Scoreup, giving the ladle a most portentous flourish.

"Whisht, whisht, gudewife," said Robin, "say nae mair about it, we'll mak it up amang us; and now, Grizzy, tak Tammy awa hame."

"It's no right in you, Robin," said Grizzy, "to be filling Tammy fou, and keeping decent folks out o' their beds till this time o' night."

"It's a' Tammy's faut," replied Robin; "for ye ken as well as me, that when ance he begins to tell a story, there's nae such thing as stopping him; he has been blethering about the Calton hill at nae allowance."


The last words seemed to strike on Tammy's ear; who hiccuped out, As I cam ower the Calton hill-" "Will naebody stap a peat in that man's hause!" exI have now reached a most important part of my subclaimed Matthew Henderson; "for ony sake, honest wo-ject. I shall suppose the company blessed with a reasonman, tak him awa, or we'll be keepit on the Calton hill ably good appetite, for I have no concern with dyspepthe whole night." tics, and that no one is either too warm or too cold; "Tak haud o' me, Tammy," said Robin; "I'll gang dinner is served,—and the question I put is, are you all hame wi' ye." prepared to enjoy it? Ay, and there are few questions more important. If a man dies at seventy, he has lived forty years, during which the question might be put to him every day,-(for it is absurd to speak to a man much under thirty about stuffing for a roast pig, or sauce for a pheasant) forty years, in the course of which he has eaten fourteen thousand six hundred dinners. Prince of gods and men, what happiness ought to be ours! Fourteen thousand six hundred opportunities of enjoying one

"I can gang mysell," said Tammy, giving Robin a shove, and staggering towards the door.

"Gang yoursell!" cried Grizzy, as she followed her helpmate; "ye dinna look very like it:" and thus the party broke up ;

self!! I ask of every man who has finished his toilette, and who is descending to the dining-room, if he be prepared to enjoy the good things that await him?

I recollect to have once heard a greenhorn say, "If there be a good dinner, there can be little question about the enjoyment of it;" but nothing can be more erroneous, as applied to mankind in general; though to such men as Dr Johnson, a good dinner, and the enjoyment of it, were indeed inseparable, because he knew the secret of making them so. There are, in truth, so many things indispensable to the highest enjoyment of a good dinner, that, for greater clearness, I shall throw my Hints into


1. AN UNOCCUPIED MIND.-To throw off our cares with our surtout, is not indeed in the power of every one; but, with very few exceptions, it is possible for every one so to arrange the day, that when the dinner-hour arrives, nothing that presses upon the mind shall be left undone. The most trifling matter will mar the enjoyment of the most delicious feast; an unanswered letter,-a dun, unattended to, the prospect of an unpleasant duty, things, ten times more insignificant than these, will neutralise the flavour of the finest turbot that ever was slid into the fish-kettle. The citizen drives to his retreat at Clapham, and recollects, at the moment he cuts into the sirloin, that he has neglected to provide for a bill for £1000; the lounger saunters into the Claremont, and remembers, just as he immerses his spoon in his turtle soup, that he has forgotten to leave a card for my Lord This or That ;-and thus the appetite of the one and the other is equally ruined;

A card forgotten, or a bill to pay,
Alike will fright the appetite away;-

As the rude gust, or as the lightest breath,
Brings to the taper's flame an equal death.

But not only must we approach the dinner table with an unoccupied mind, we must give to it, as to any other piece of important business, that which I shall insist upon


§ 2. UNDIVIDED ATTENTION.-Every body has read Boswell's Life of Johnson, and therefore every body remembers that profound remark made by the great moralist, that, "in order to enjoy a good dinner, we must talk about it all the while." It is certain, at all events, that conversation must not be too excursive; for be it a work of business, or a work of pleasure, in which we are engaged, it will be best done, and most enjoyed, if the mind be wholly given up to it. There is not one reader who is not conscious of this truth; not one upon whom the pleasures of the eye, the ear, or the palate, have not, upon some occasions, been lost, through the pre-occupancy, or abstraction, of the mind;-and I have no doubt that Clarke and Leibnitz might have discussed a brace of woodcocks, without being conscious of their good fortune, if they had, at the same time, discussed the question of liberty and necessity. My philanthropy is not confined to the living; it grieves me to think, that want of attention to so simple a precept as that which I have laid down in this section, should, for ages, have stinted the enjoyment of the most frequent of all the pleasures which lie on the highway of life. Dr Johnson properly makes use of the word " talk," in contradistinction to the word conversation; for, if undivided attention be given to the employment of the table, it is impossible that there should be any such thing as conversation. There must be nothing argumentative,-nothing that involves much difference in opinion,-nothing that rouses the attention, or awakens interest, for it is impossible to "lend your ear," without also admitting a claim upon the sensibility of the palate; table-talk, if not rigidly confined within the horizon of the table, must, at all events, make but short excursions beyond it. The philosophy of this section may be thus summed up: There is no such thing as a corporeal pleasure, independent of mind; the external organs of sense are but media of communication;

the mind it is that takes cognizance of the qualities of | objects; and it is undeniable, that a state of mental abstraction might exist, in which no object brought in contact with the external organs of sense would create any perception of its quality; and if this be true, it must necessarily follow, that the more intently the mind is fixed upon any animal enjoyment, the keener will that enjoyment be.

§ 3. REGULATION OF THE APPETITE.-The man who is in too great haste to be rich, sometimes misses his object; the gambler who throws down all his gold on the first stake, runs a risk of coming away penniless; the jockey who makes too much speed at the beginning of the race, has little chance of winning the plate; and in every pleasure and every pursuit in which mankind is engaged, precipitancy is the neutraliser of enjoyment, and the enemy of success. Keep this truth especially in mind, when you take your seat at a feast. He who is desirous of extracting the essence from it, will be as wary as an old trout that nibbles at the bait-the young things only gulp hook and all; he will dally with his delights, and never swallow a second mouthful until judgment has pronounced her verdict upon the savour of the first. Sip and enjoy: even the most arrant bungler would not gulp a glass of Maraschino, as he would a basin of camomile tea. The non-gulping principle may be carried with advantage into all our pleasures. A man who is ignorant of it, may gulp a new novel without tasting it; it is possible to be so great a gulper in sight-seeing, as to leave nothing behind but headach; and the man who should perform a journey on a race horse-and who might well be classed among gulpers could not tell, when he came to the end of it, whether the road was skirted by fruit or forest trees.

sure does not.

work of digestion, concluding with this single observation, For the present I shall leave the reader to the important that nothing can be sillier than the common and specious morsel of morality, so dogmatically levelled against the rish in the using. pleasures of the table, that they are short-lived, and peI should be glad to know what pleaWe have, indeed, agreeable reminiscences of a fine poem which we have read,—of delightful scenery which we have passed through,—or of sweet music to which we have listened; but the pleasure of these reminiscences is faint, in comparison with present enjoyrounding beauties are, indeed, of the most agreeable kind; My recollections of Winandermere and its surbut can they be compared with the rapturous feelings with which I have watched, from the bosom of that lovely lake, day die upon the rosy mirror, and the hills fold themselves in their dusky mantle? And so is it with all pleasures,-be they pleasures of a moment, a day, or a lifetime-they perish in the using.



AN INVITATION TO SIR WALTER SCOTT. By the late Mrs Elizabeth Hamilton, Authoress of the "Cottagers of Glenburnie."

I FAIN would find an open door

Straight leading to your heart;

But, oh! in vain I round me glow'r,Yet, ere I hopelessly gie o'er,

I'll try, though feckless, gif I've power To tirl ere I depart.

Ye winna lift the sneck, I trow, To Flattery's supple tongue;

thenticity of these lines, which have never before appeared in print. We can assure our readers that they may fully rely on the au Ed. Lit. Jour.

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Yet I have twined the meed of fame
This ancient head around,

And made the echo of my name
A not undreaded sound;
Ay-there are hearts, Italia, yet
Within thee, who may not forget
Our battle's bloody mound,
When thy proud eagle on the wing
Fell to the earth, a nerveless thing!

Yes, mid thy vast and fair domains, Thou sitt'st in terror still,

While this old heart, and these shrunk veins,

Have one scant drop to spill;

Even in the glory of thy fame

Thou shrinkest still at Afric's name,—
"Tis not a joyous thrill;

Thou hast not yet forgotten quite
The hurricane of Canne's fight!

Though chased from shore to shore, I yet Can smile, proud land, at thee;

And though my country's glory set,

Her warrior still is free!

This arm, which made thy thousands vain, May wither-but ne'er wear thy chain.

True, they are gone-those days of fameThose deeds of might-and I

Am nothing-but a dreaded name,
Heard like storms rushing by;

Then welcome, bitter draught-thou'rt sweet
To warrior spirits that would meet
Their end-as men should die,-
Hearts that would hail the darksome grave,
Ere yet degraded to a slave.

Carthage-farewell! My dust I lay
Not on thy summer strand;
Yet shall my spirit stretch away
To thee, my father's land.

I fought for thee-I bled for thee-
I perish now to keep thee free;

And when the invader's band Thy children meet on battled plain, My soul shall charge for thee again! Dunlop Street, Glasgow.


[The following spirited and original lines are the production of a popular living poet, whose name we regret we are not at liberty to mention.-Ed. Lit. Jour.]

WHEN Spring with her girdle of roses comes forth,
Like a fair blushing bride from the clime of the north,
How man's heart bounds with gladness his gay bosom

At her charms, and the song of her merry cuckoo ; Cuckoo, and cuckoo, and cuckoo!

We have gazed on bright forms, such as angels above Might leave heaven, and come down on this dull earth to


But no face is like Nature's to man's longing view, When she laughs out in Spring with her joyous cuckoo; Cuckoo, and cuckoo, and cuckoo !

We have felt-who has not ?-as we clasped the fair hand, How the pulse bounds to bliss at the dear one's command; But are those warm pulsations more thrilling or new Than sweet Spring's when she dances, and warbles cuckoo? Cuckoo, and cuckoo, and cuckoo !

Though we've look'd in their eyes, until feeling arose,
And the white of the cheek took the red of the rose,
Who would say that those eyes were of tenderer blue
Than Spring's heaven when she comes with her merry

Cuckoo, and cuckoo, and cuckoo !

Who could swear-I would not-that their voices are clear
As Nature's sweet speech at the spring of the year?
This we know, if far softer, their tongues are less true
Than hers is when she speaks by her herald cuckoo;
Cuckoo, and cuckoo, and cuckoo !

We have drank of the wine-cup-who has not?-in mirth,
And believed nothing like it is found upon earth,
But that draught would be bitter and dark, if ye knew
The rich cup which she sends by her Hebe cuckoo ;
Cuckoo, and cuckoo, and cuckoo!.

We have read the rare books of the wise ones of old,
And perchance touched their wand that turns all things
to gold;

Theatrical Gossip.-A part of the original "Der Freischutz" been performed at Covent Garden, by native Germans. The performance went off well enough, but we do not see any great merit in the innovation.-It is said that the present season has been a bad one both at Drury Lane and Covent Garden, and that the managers of both establishments will find themselves minns several thousand pounds. We cannot say that we regret this, as we hope it will teach them the propriety of reducing, to one-fourth or fifth, the extravagant salaries now paid to leading performers. Laporte, the manager of the Italian Opera, is believed to have been, on the whole, more fortunate, though he has had a hard push for it. Matthews and

Woman's love's not like hers;-rosy wine makes us gay,
But, like beauty, it leads the pure bosom astray;
Fly them both-tear your volumes-your spells break in Yates, at the Adelphi, have made the most successful hit ; Astley's


We understand that Messrs Longman and Co. are preparing for speedy publication, among other works,-Sermons on various Subjects, by the Rev. Ralph Wardlaw, D.D.,-A System of Surgery, by John Burns, M.D., Regius Professor of Surgery in the University of Glasgow,-A Practical Treatise on the Diseases of the Eye, by William Mackenzie, Lecturer on the Eye in the University of Glasgow, and senior Surgeon to the Glasgow Eye Infirmary,-Beatrice, a Tale founded on Facts, by Mrs Hofland,-The Venetian Bracelet, and other Poems, by L. E. L., &c. &c.

also is doing well; but the Surrey, Sadler's Wells, and the Coburg, have not been very prosperous.-Liston has been engaged for the Haymarket, which is to open immediately, at £20 per night,-a shameful sum to be paid by a small summer theatre.-It is rumoured in Paris that Miss Smithson is about to be married to a French Count. It is the best thing she could do.-Miss I. Paton entered upon an engagement at the Liverpool Theatre on Monday last. She played Letitia Hardy in the "Belle's Stratagem," to Vandenhoff's Doricourt.-Miss Foote, who is about to leave the stage, is concluding her theatrical career, by a short engagement in Plymouth-her native town.-Kean is now at his country residence in Rothsay, and we are glad to understand he is much reinstated in health. He will do us a personal favour if he will perform a week or ten days here at his first convenience.-Caradori's Polly, on Saturday last, was, as we anticipated, one of the most brilliant things we have seen on this stage. She is to repeat the performance this evening.-Denham takes He plays Mirza Mahommed Ibrahim, a Persian gentleman resident in Eng- his benefit on Tuesday, and deserves to have a good one. land, who is attached to the East-India College, is employed, and Virginius, which is a bold attempt, but he will do it well.-We are glad to understand that a new dramatic piece, written by a literary gentlehas made considerable progress, in translating Herodotus from the man of some eminence in this city, has been read in the Green-Room, English into Persian:-thus the earliest accounts of his country and is to be brought out soon. It is entitled "Willie Armstrong, which Europe received, and of the dynasty which was overthrown or Durie in Durance;"-the principal parts to be supported by by Alexander, is, after a lapse of twenty-two centuries, likely to be Messrs Murray, Mackay, and Denham. The plot is founded on an inintroduced to the present inhabitants of that country in their verna-teresting anecdote told by Sir Walter Scott, in his "Minstrelsy of the cular tongue. Scottish Border." We are well pleased to see some of our own literary characters thus rallying round our own national Theatre, in which honourable ambition, it ought not to be forgotten that the fair authoress of " Aloyse" led the way.-OLD CERBERUS informs us, that he proposes making a few remarks on the present state of the Esinburgh Company next Saturday.—The Caledonian Theatre opens tonight under a new Manager-Mr Bass, of the Dundee and Montrose Theatres; -we shall inform our readers what we think of his arrange

ments in our next.

But their tomes and their spells are as old things to new
When fair Nature's are shown by her envoy cuckoo ;
Cuckoo, and cuckoo, and cuckoo !


And woo Nature, and sing with her shouting cuckoo,-
Cuckoo, and cuckoo, and cuckoo!

One of the most interesting works lately published in Paris is the "Memoirs of the Duke of St Simon." It comprehends the history of the character of Louis XIV. and his mistresses; and some very curious details relating to the Revolution of 1688. Rochefoucauld's Maxims have been translated into modern Greek, and published with an English version.

A French and Arabic Dictionary is about to be published, which will be exceedingly useful to all Europeans travelling in the East.

SIR HUMPHREY DAYY.-Private letters have reached this country, announcing the death of this eminent man, who expired at Geneva, on the 29th of May, after a lingering illness. Science and Great Britain have thus lost one of their brightest ornaments.

FRENCH LANGUAGE.-We had much pleasure in attending, on Saturday and Monday last, the examination of the pupils of Mr Espinasse, one of the most successful French teachers now resident in Edinburgh. The rooms were, on both days, crowded with a fashionable assemblage of ladies and gentlemen, who must have been equally pleased with the proficiency which the pupils evinced in reading, translating, writing, and speaking French, and with the enthusiasm and earnestness of the teacher. There was evidently no collusion between the two parties;-the whole was an intellectual display of a very interesting and delightful kind.

FRANCE. We heartily recommend to our readers a new descriptive Road-book of France, just published by Samuel Leigh. It contains an account of all the post-roads, cross-roads, cities and towns. bathing-places, natural curiosities, rivers, canals, modes of traveling, diligences, packets, inns, expense of living, coins, passports, weights and measures, together with an excellent map and plans of several of the principal towns. It is a work which every English

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THE able Article by the Author of "Anster Fair," will appear next Saturday.

Mr Brydson's verses shall have a place soon.-We are obliged to postpone several interesting poetical articles which are in types.-We reserve Dr Gillespie's amusing anecdote for the next appearance of the "Editor in his slippers."-We have to request of the Editor of a Newspaper north of the Forth, when he favours us by copying in. to his columns articles communicated to the LITERARY JOURNAL by Dr Gillespie, or any other person of eminence, to acknowledge the source from which they are taken, as his not doing so may be fully as disagreeable to our correspondents as to ourselves. - We cannot at present find room for a notice of the last number of the Monthly Magazine.-There is considerable promise in the verses" To F-y;" and likewise in the Lines by Edwin."

man who crosses the Channel ought to take with him.

THE ISLE OF MAN.-We have read with much pleasure a little work, recently published, entitled, "Sketches of the Isle of Man, by a Tourist." It is from the pen of Mr Bennet, Editor of the Glasgow Free Press, and does him much credit. Whoever bends his excursive steps, in these blue and sunny days, to the Kingdom of Manx, will do well to provide himself with a copy of the "Sketches." This may be set down as a puff collateral; but it is not, any more than praising a book which deserves to be praised is a puff.

THE MODERN ATHENS.-We observe that our arbitri elegantia-it rum are again beginning to "agitate" regarding the improvements of Edinburgh. Mr Gourlay has done us the favour to send us a copy of his "Plans," which, we think, contains some very sensible remarks; but as we shall probably have something to say more at length upon the subject soon, we shall not at present enter into the question of their superiority or inferiority to those already suggested. One thing we are clear of, that, seeing the gross blunders, in point of taste, some of our juntos of wise men have already made, the public should look well to it before they allow any decided steps to be taken.

The author of one of the articles in to-day's Number will perceive that we have been under the necessity of curtailing it to adapt to our limits; but we have no intention of abridging the other able communication with which he has favoured us,

"R. C." is informed that we cannot possibly give a place to documents connected with Mr Galt, which originally appeared in a Liverpool Newspaper.

We observe that a writer in the Weekly Journal has misapprehended the tenour of our remarks on Pitcairn's Criminal Trials, reviewed in our last. We did not complain of the paucity of materials in that work, but of the Editor having, to a certain extent, neglected to ar range these materials in the most judicious manner.

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No. 32.





SATURDAY, JUNE 20, 1829.

The Five Nights of St Albans. In three volumes. Edinburgh. William Blackwood. 1829.

THIS is a romance from the pen of Mr Mudford, who was for a considerable period editor of the London Courier. We have read the book with some attention, and we regret to say that our verdict concerning it cannot be a favourable one.


The plot or machinery upon which the romance is founded is simple enough. Two persons, of the name of Peverell and Clayton, returning home one night to the town of St Albans, where they live, observe an old abbey in the neighbourhood supernaturally illuminated. Next day they inform their fellow-townsmen of what they had seen; and, in conjunction with the rest of the inhabitants, they determine to watch that night for the recurrence of the phenomenon. The phenomenon not only takes place, but is accompanied with still more extraordinary appearances than on the preceding evening. This induces twelve of the bravest citizens of St Albans to form themselves into an association, for the purpose of watching in the Abbey, till they have discovered the cause of these fearful portents. Their watch is held for five nights, in the course of which innumerable horrible and supernatural events occur; and with a detailed account of these the three volumes are entirely occupied. By fortitude and perseverance the powers of darkness are at last overcome; and, in conclusion, a very ridiculous and unsatisfactory explanation is given of the cause which induced the goblins and malicious spirits to fix upon St Albans as the scene of their nocturnal revels.


are goblins, we have so minute an account of their hideous sayings and doings, that terror is, for the most part, merged either in disgust or amusement. Mr Mudford seems to be profoundly ignorant that there is but one step between the sublime and the ridiculous. Having supped full of horrors, he seems anxious to treat his readers to a similar banquet, simply by crowding together all the loathsome and fantastic images which ever came, in the shape of nightmare or stifling dreams, to the unhappy wretch who has eat at supper seven or eight pounds of pork sausages, and an unweighed quantity of toasted cheese.

Do not let us be mistaken. We are perfectly willing to admit that considerable genius may be shown in successfully grouping together a number of strange and grotesque images, whether of heaven or of earth; but if the leading object be to excite terror, no little caution and delicacy will be necessary, in order to keep this grouping within proper bounds, and likely to produce the end in view. A very good illustration of what we mean may be had by contrasting the Temptation of St Anthony, as painted by Teniers, with the same subject as treated by several Italian artists. The latter commonly represent the saint in a dark cave, through which the surrounding horrors glimmer dimly upon the eye, stimulating, but not satiating, the imagination; whereas the former brings every thing into view with the most laborious minuteness, and fills his picture with shapes of unclean birds, loathsome beasts, crawling reptiles, and all the similar disagreeables of a vivid, perhaps, but certainly a far less poetical fancy. The consequence is, that, in the first case, we sympathize with the undefined terror of St Anthony's situation, and in the other, wish only for a good sword or sturdy stick to drive the four-feeted abominations away. In the same manner, in fictitious composition, there is a certain boundary, past which terror changes into disgust. None but a man of coarse feelings would, for a moment, suppose that a full, true, and particular account of a raw-head-and-bloody-bones was nearly so spirit-stirring as one or two mysterious and indistinct hints of some undescribed horror. Mr Mudford entirely overlooks this fundamental law in the use of the terrible in composition; and he has been pleased, therefore, to present us with a tissue of descriptions, much more calculated to turn our stomach than to freeze our blood.

It will thus be perceived that the author, avoiding all the usual subsidiaries of romance, wishes to rest the interest and success of his work solely upon its uninterrupted appeal to the superstitious feelings of our nature. But he has undertaken to handle a weapon, with the mode of using which he is very imperfectly acquainted. In the first place, the very assumption upon which the whole book proceeds, is, in these days, much more calculated to excite mirth than to create awe. It stoutly sets out with the tangible introduction of devils and "demogorgons dire," and leaves the reader no hope that towards the conclusion of the third volume a long string of mysterious circumstances will be satisfactorily cleared up, and shown to have been nothing counter to the established laws which regulate the material universe. Before we have proceeded six pages, we find that we must, with our author, cut the cable of reason, and drift away on the wildest tide of imagination. To get at all interested in the work, we must be content to believe, not only that supernatural appearances are possible, but that the earth, the air, and the sea, are, in reality, peopled with beings of a nature different from our own, with whom we are brought into immediate contact, and, as it were, rendered familiar. In the next place, besides the absence ab initio of all doubt, (one of the great engines of superstition,) and the consequent certainty that what appear to be goblins

It would be unfair to make this assertion without proving its truth; and with this view alone we shall introduce into our pages a few passages, to which we should certainly never have given a place on any other account. We need only open any one of the three volumes to meet with whole pages of coarse and loathsome bombast like the following:-" His flesh was one putrid mass of dissolving jelly; his face livid, with here and there broad blotches of cadaverous green; his features bore no distinguishable resemblance to what had been their character in life; while the black mark round his throat, which had been observed in the first instance, had eaten itself, as it were, into a trench or gash of fluid corruption." Or again,— "This imp of Acheron dwelt in a cave or den, a mile beyond the city, whose entrance was guarded by a monster,

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