sparkled, and a smile seemed struggling with the solemnity of the moment, in expression of their innocent delight in beholding the approach of her who had that day offered up her vows, and become one of the community.

"The others stood in succession, with looks more subdued, pale, mild, collected, the head gently bending toward the earth in contemplation. The procession stopped at the threshold of the church, when the young nun was received and embraced by the Lady Abbess, who, leading her onwards, was followed in procession by the nuns, each bearing her lighted torch.

"It might be the brilliant light shed on the surrounding objects, or the momentary charm lent by enthusiasm, that dangerous spirit of the mind deceiving the eye and the heart, which gave to these fair beings a fascination more than real; but such were my feelings, so fixed my attention, that, when their forms faded from my view, when the gate was closed, and I turned again towards the busy throng and crowded street, I felt a heaviness of heart, even to pain, weigh upon me." pp. 231-235.

Our limits will admit only of one more extract, which presents a faithful picture of a scene well adapted to impress the mind of the thoughtful and feeling traveller, when wandering in catholic

countries.

"Nothing is more touching than the solemn and silent grandeur of a Roman Catholic Church; thither the poor and the distressed, the weary and the hungry, continually resort; and many a lonely helpless being is dimly distinguished in a sequestered corner in fervent prayer. Here every variety of human character may be seen; thoughtless, careless youth; the pallid, haggard, unhappy peasant encumbered with disease; the forlorn widow, bending in sorrow over her little ones; and the aged man, with his bald and shining head, sprinkled with a few remaining hairs, clasping his hands, and praying for release from life's uninteresting and weary scene.

"The habit of penitence, the use of confession, the solitary indulgence of an humble and contrite spirit, carry many a mourning soul to the foot of the altar, kissing the relic to which it is consecrated.

"Must not scenes like these make painters? Can these fine figures, touched by the fading gleams darting from the richlypainted window, fail of impressing a mind the least sensible to the beauties of the art?

"If vastness and solitude can prepare the mind-if columns and monuments, arches and broken angles, lights descending from above, long perspective, gloomy recesses, figures rising in a dark ground, can inspire a painter, and affect him with melancholy tender images, the painters of Italy should certainly excel." pp. 229, 230.

Mr. Bell is remarkably free from the fault which we have already noticed, and which indeed is too common, that of indulging an ill-judged, commonplace ridicule on subjects connected with religious belief, and of raising a laugh at those weaknesses of human nature which, after all, may have their origin in pious feelings not properly disciplined and directed. He makes no pretension to those extravagant raptures, which are often affected to gain the reputation of being a connoisseur, and are sometimes. feigned by those, who can scarcely distinguish a common daub from the happiest efforts of Raphael or Correggio. His reflections are indicative of sound sense, and his remarks are candid and discriminating.

On the whole, if the "Observations" of our author are distinguished by no uncommon excellence of style, and his narrative should sometimes appear to be deficient in liveliness and interest, it should be recollected, that he was an invalid, and frequently, no doubt, under the influence of melancholy feelings and desponding apprehensions; that his papers were left in an imperfect state, and that he was deprived of the opportunity of revising them for the press. What he has effected, however, under all the disadvantages of his situation, leads us to regret that time and opportunity were not afforded him to perform more. The work, such as it is, which his relative has given to the world, is not without value, and adds something to the stock of information on many topics which are highly interesting to the traveller, the antiquary, the amateur of the fine arts, and the man of letters and refinement.

Northwood; a Tale of New England. By Mrs. S. J. HALE. Boston. Bowles & Dearborn. 1827. 2 vols. 12mo.

WE consider it pretty well settled, that the matériel of a native literature is sufficiently abundant in this country. We shall not, therefore, enter into the discussion of its scenery, and the marked diversity in the characters of its inhabitants, the puritan strictness of one quarter and the lax morality of another, the bustling habits of the seaboard and the solitary life of the Western hunter. We shall not enlarge upon the influences of climate; upon the effects of slaveholding; upon the constant influx of foreigners from every country in Europe, and the deep hold which their national peculiarities have gained in many parts of our land; upon the

effects of our form of government on the people at large, and the relations of the several classes; upon the refinement of the old settlements, which have for many years enjoyed security and a free access to the comforts and luxuries of Europe, and the rudeness of the new, which have just sprung up in the wilderness, and are daily startled by the wolf and the panther. It is not necessary to accumulate arguments, to prove that America can furnish matter for novels and poems. Formerly, indeed, these were raræ aves, and had as little to boast on the score of quality as of number. But now they appear in flocks, and the merits of several have gained them reputation on the other side of the Atlantic. "Northwood" adds another proof to the many already existing, that neither talents nor materials are wanting in our country.

This novel is ascribed to a lady, with whom, as a poet, under the signature of "Cornelia," the public are somewhat acquainted. The scene is laid in the interior of New Hampshire. The story is very simple, as the object of the writer is merely to give a sketch of the principal features of common life in the villages of New England. Squire Romelee is a respectable farmer, with a houseful of children. The eldest of them, Sidney Romelee, at the age of twelve, is adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Brainard. Mr. Brainard is a rich planter, residing in South Carolina. His wife is Sidney's aunt. Her character, and the circumstances attending her marriage, are well described. We hear nothing more of Sidney till he has reached the age of twenty-four, when he returns to Northwood, accompanied by Mr. Frankford, an English gentleman, introduced with a view of affording the Squire, who is fond of arguing, an opportunity of maintaining the excellence of American institutions. After Sidney has remained here a short time, and fallen in love, he is informed of the death of his uncle, and the loss of the large fortune he had expected to inherit from him; whereupon he undertakes to teach a school in Northwood. In this employment he remains a few months, when his father is killed by a fall from his wagon. Sidney then takes charge of his farm, and shortly afterwards becomes the accepted lover of Susan Redington. He is soon called away from her, however, by letters from Carolina, which inform him, that a large part of his uncle's property has been recovered, and that his presence is needed to redeem Mr. Brainard's plantation, which had been mortgaged. During his absence, letters are received, signed with his name, addressed to his mother and Miss Redington, and informing them, that circumstances render it impossible for him to perform his engagement, and that he shall not return to Northwood. His

mistress, soon after the receipt of this intelligence, is taken ill of a fever. In a short time, it is ascertained by Merrill, a man whom Sidney had formerly obliged, that these letters had been forged by Skinner, a trader in the village, who, for several reasons, was a bitter enemy to Sidney. Upon this, he sets off for Carolina, finds Sidney, who had received a letter of a similar character, signed with the name of his mistress,-upon the point of embarking for Europe, acquaints him with the true state of the case, and returns with him to New Hampshire. Skinner is exposed, Miss Redington recovers, and the lovers are married.

This story contains many natural sketches of New England manners; and, while confined to the common characters and occurrences of a village, we follow the course of the narrative with much interest. Out of this circle, we do not think the author is so happy. At the commencement of the story, Mr. Frankford, an English gentleman of fortune, is introduced, with no view, that we can perceive, but that to which we have already alluded, of affording an opportunity for the praise of our institutions. These praises are mostly put into the mouth of the Squire, who carries on the argument with Frankford, and he certainly seems to us to speak with more rotundity of phrase than is natural to a New England farmer. There is a tale of true love, moreover, introduced, in which Sidney was an actor during his residence in South Carolina. Stuart, a young man from the North, who is tutor in the family of Mr. Atkinson, a rich planter, falls in love with his daughter, Zemira, a girl of fifteen, and asks her in marriage of her father, who flies into a passion, and orders him to quit his house. The lovers are soon afterwards privately married, without the consent or knowledge of the father. Sidney, shortly after, being ignorant of their union, becomes attached to Zemira, offers her his hand, and is informed of her secret. After the first burst of passion at his disappointment has subsided, he undertakes to inform Mr. Atkinson of the marriage, and obtain his forgiveness, or procure for Stuart the means of living independently of him. He goes to New York in search of Stuart, returns with him to Charleston, finds Mr. Atkinson on his deathbed, and, by the intercession of Mr. Brainard, Sidney's uncle, Stuart and his wife are pardoned. It appears to us that this episode might have been spared, or differently managed; in its present state, it savors too much of breach of trust and filial disobedience.

With these exceptions, we think favorably of the talent and the tone of feeling, displayed in this book. The sketches of the

principal characters in the village, male and female, of the doctor and the deacon, of the Squire's wife, and the gossip, who tells the fortunes of young maidens by peering into the grounds of a tea-cup, in fact of nearly all the genuine Yankees, from six years old upwards, are well hit off, and the habits and tastes of Yankee-land are drawn from the life. A cheerful and benevolent spirit, too, pervades the book, a disposition to find food for happiness and not for discontent in the vicissitudes of life. The style is generally simple and expressive, with very little affectation of any sort. We observe, however, in several instances, a mistaken use of the word, condescending. The writer employs it in the sense of kind or obliging, and several passages are injured by this application of it. The tale is a plain, straight forward one, with very little involution or intricacy, and depending for its interest on the truth of its delineations. Some of these we will now give, to enable our readers to judge for themselves. The following is the description of a countryman, whom Sidney meets as he is returning to his father's house.

"There,' said Sidney, 'now, Frankford, you may see a genuine Yankee; I know by his whistle he is a true one. You have often enough heard him described and beheld him caricatured; now look at the original.'

"The age of the man might be about five and thirty; he was nearly six feet in height, and rather spare; but showed such an athletic and vigorous form as might well entitle him to the character of being the bone and muscle' of the land. He was habited in a dark-colored suit, made of what is termed 'home manufactured; ' for the celebrated Lucretia herself could not spin with a more becoming grace, than do-or at least did-the fair wives and daughters of the New England farmers; and not to keep their families comfortably clothed, would reflect great discredit on their industry, and consequently on their characters. His clothes were fitted nearly in the London fashion, though the fashion of a year gone by; for every individual, being ambitious to appear well dressed, and antiquity not having sanctioned any particular form for the habit, nor necessity obliging our citizens to appear in the suits of their ancestors, the fashions' are, by all classes and ages, more universally followed throughout the United States, than by any other nation in the world. A red bandanna handkerchief was tied around his neck, above which rose his shirt collar, white as the driven snow; boots and a good hat completed his array, which appeared to unite comfort and economy with a tolerable degree of taste, and showed the wearer was one who thought something of himself, and meant to appear in such a manner as to claim attention and respect from others, As they drew nearer he ceased his