It will be seen from these passages, that Jonson was a plain-spoken person: his character of Drummond's poetry is correct; and if he said that Shakspeare wanted art, we must not forget, that he elsewhere says, "I loved the man, and do honour his memory, on this side idolatry, as much as any.”—We continue the 'Conversations:' "11. HIS ACQUAINTANCE AND BEHAVIOUR WITH POETS LIVING WITH HIM. "Daniel was at jealousies with him. "Drayton feared him, and he esteemed not of him. "That Francis Beaumont loved too much himself and his own verses. "That Sir John Roe loved him; and when they two were ushered by my Lord Suffolk from a Mask, Roe wrott a moral epistle to him, which began, That next to playes, the Court and the State were the best."' God threatneth Kings, Kings Lords, and Lords do us.' He beat Marston, and took his pistoll from "Sir W. Alexander was not half kinde unto him, and neglected him, because a friend to Drayton. "That Sir R. Aiton loved him dearly. "Ned Field was his schollar, and he had read to him the Satyres of Horace, and some Epigrames of Martiall. "That Markam (who added his English Arcadia) was not of the number of the Faithfull, i. e. Poets, and but a base fellow. "That such were Day and Middleton. "That Chapman and Fletcher were loved of him. "Overbury was first his friend, then turn'd his mortall enimie. "12. PARTICULARS OF THE ACTIONS OF OTHER POETS; AND APOTHEGMES. "That the Irish having rob'd Spenser's goods and burnt his house and a litle child new born, he and his wyfe escaped; and after, he died for lake of bread in King Street, and refused 20 pieces sent to him by my Lord of Essex, and said, He was sorrie he had no time to spend them. That in that paper S. W. Raughly had of the Allegories of his Fayrie Queen, by the Blating beast the Puritans were understood, by the false Duessa the Q. of Scots. "That Southwell was hanged; yet so he had written that piece of his the Burning Babe, he would have been content to destroy many of his. "Franc. Beaumont died ere he was 30 years of age. "Sir John Roe was ane infinit spender, and used to say, when he had no more to spende he could die. He died of the pest, and he [Jonson] furnished his charges 20 lb.; which was given him back. "That Drayton was chalenged for intitling one book Mortimeriades. That S. J. Davies played in an Epigrame on Drayton's who in a sonnet concluded his Mistress might bee the ninth Worthy, and said, he used a phrase like Dametas in Arcadia, who said for wit his Mistresse might be a gyant. Dones grandfather on the mother's side was Heywood the Epigramatist. That Done himself, for not being understood, would perish. "That S. W. Raughly esteemed more of fame than conscience. The best wits of England were employed for making his historie. Ben himself had written a piece to him of the Punick warre, which he altered and set in his booke. "S. W. heth written the lyfe of Queen Elizabeth, of which ther is [are] copies extant. "Sir P. Sidney had translated some of the Psalmes which went abroad under the name of the Countesse of Pembrock. "Marston wrott his Father-in-Lawes preaching, and his Father-in-Law his Commedies. 'Shakspear, in a play, brought in a number of men saying they had suffered shipwrack in Bohemia, wher yr is no sea neer by some 100 miles. "Daniel wrott Civil Warres, and yett hath not one batle in all his book. "The Countess of Rutland was nothing inferior to her Father Sir P. Sidney in poesie. Sir Th: Overburie was in love with her, and caused Ben to read his Wyffe to her, which he, with ane excellent grace, did, and praised the author. That the morne thereafter he discorded with Overburie, who would have him to intend a sute yt was unlawful. The lines my Lady keep'd in remembrance, He comes too near who comes to be denied. Beaumont wrot that Elegie on the death of the Countess of Rutland, and in effect her husband. "Owen is a pure pedantique schoolmaster, sweeping a living from the posteriors of litle children; and hath no thinge good in him, his Epigrames being bare narrations. Chapman hath translated Musaeus, in his verses, like his Homer. "Flesher and Beaumont, ten yeers since, hath written the Faithfull Shepheardesse, a Tragicomedie, well done. "Dyer died unmarried. "Sir P. Sidney was no pleasant man in countenance, his face being spoiled with pimples, and of high blood, and long: that my Lord Lisle, now Earle of Worster, his eldest son, resembleth him." Of himself, Jonson says: "His Grandfather came from Carlisle, and, he thought, from Anandale to it: he served King Henry 8, and was a gentleman. His Father losed all his estate under Queen Marie, having been cast in prisson and forfaitted; at last turned Ministet: so he was a ministers son. He himself was posthumous born, a month after his father's decease; brought up poorly, putt to school by a friend (his master Cambden); after taken from it, and put to ane other craft (I think was to be a wright or bricklayer), which he could not endure; then went to the Low Countries, but returning soone he betook himself to his wonted studies. In his service in the Low Countries, he had, in the face of both the campes, killed ane enemie and taken opima spolia from him; and since his comming to England, being appealed to the fields, he had killed his adversarie, which [who] had hurt him in the arme, and whose sword was 10 inches longer than his; for the which he was emprissoned and almost at the gallowes. Then took he his religion, by trust, of a priest who visited him in prisson. Thereafter he was 12 yeares a Papist. "He was Master of Arts in both the Universities, by their favour, not his studie. "He married a wyfe who was a shrew, yet honest: five years he had not bedded with her, but remayned with my Lord Aulbanie. In the tyme of his close imprisonment, under Queen Elizabeth, his judges could get nothing of him to all their demands but I and No. They placed two damn'd villains to catch advantage of him, with him, but he was advertised by his keeper: of the spies he hath ane epigrame. When the King came in England at that tyme the pest was in London, he being in the country at Sir Robert Cotton's house with old Cambden, he saw in a vision his eldest sone, then a child and at London, appear unto him with the mark of a bloodie crosse on his forehead, as if it had been cutted with a suord, at which amazed he prayed unto God, and in the morning he came to Mr. Cambden's chamber to tell him; who persuaded him it was but ane apprehension of his fantasie, at which he sould not be disjected; in the mean tyme comes there letters from his wife of the death of that boy, in the plague. He appeared to him (he said) of a manlie shape, and of that grouth that he thinks he shall be at the resurrection. "He was dilated by Sir James Murray to the King, for writing something against the Scots in a play Eastward Hoe, and voluntarily imprissoned with Chapman and Marston, who had written it amongst them. The report was that they should then [have] had their ears cut and noses. After their delivery he banqueted all his friends; there was Camden, Selden, and others; at the midst of the feast bis old Mother dranke to him, and shew him a paper which she had (if the sentence had taken execution) to have mixed in the prisson among his drinke, which was full of lustie strong poison, and that she was no churle, she told she minded first to have drunk of it her self. "He had many quarrells with Marston, beat him, and took his pistoll from him, wrote his Poetaster on him; the beginning of them were, that Marston represented him in the stage, in his youth as given to venerie. * "S. W. Raulighe sent him Governour with his son, anno 1613, to France. This youth being knavishly inclined, among other pastimes, caused him to be drunken, and dead drunk, so that he knew not wher he was, therafter laid him on a carr, which he made to be drawen by pioners through the streets, at every corner showing his governour stretched out, and telling them, that was a more lively image of the Crucifix than any they had; at which sport young Raughlies mother delyghted much (saying his father young was so inclyned), though the Father abhorred it. "He can set horoscopes, but trusts not in them. He with the consent of a friend cousened a lady, with whom he had made ane apointment to meet ane old Astrologer in the suburbs, which she keeped; and it was himself disguysed in a longe gowne and a whyte beard at the light of dimm burning candles, up in a little cabinet reached unto by a ladder. "Every first day of the new year he had 201b. sent him from the Earl of Pembrok to buy bookes. "After he was reconciled with the Church, and left of to be a recusant, at his first commu nion, in token of true reconciliation, he drank out all the full cup of wyne. Being at the end of my Lord Salisburies table with Inigo Jones, and demanded by my Lord, Why he was not glad? My Lord, said he, you promised I should dine with you, but I doe not, for he had none of his meate; he esteemed only that his meate which was of his own dish. "He hath consumed a whole night in lying looking to his great toe, about which he hath seen Tartars and Turks, Romans and Carthaginians, feight in his imagination. Northampton was his mortall enemie for beating, on a St. Georges day, one of his attenders: He was called before the Councell for his Sejanus, and accused both of poperie and treason by him. "Several times he hath devoured his bookes, i. e. sold them all for necessity. He hath a minde to be a churchman, and so he might have favour to make one sermon to the King, he careth not what therafter sould befall him: for he would not flatter though he saw Death. "At his hither comming, St Francis Bacon said to him, He loved not to sie Poesy goe on other feet than poeticall dactylus and spon daeus." We cannot make room for any more of these 'Conversations:' the character which Drummond gives of Jonson concludes the paper, and we are glad to see that it is milder than we imagined: still it is sufficiently se vere: "He [Jonson] is a great lover and praiser of himself; a contemner and scorner of others; given rather to losse a friend than a jest; jealous of every word and action of those about him, especiallie after drink, which is one of the elements in which he liveth; a dissembler of ill parts which reigne in him, a bragger of some good that he wanteth, thinketh nothing well bot what either he himself or some of his friends and countrymen hath said or done; he is passionately kynde and angry; careless either to gain or keep; vindicative, but, if he be well answered, at himself. "For any religion, as being versed in both. Interpreteth best sayings and deeds often to the worst. Oppressed with fantasie, which hath ever mastered his reason, a generall disease in many poets. His inventions are smooth and easie; but above all he excelleth in a translation." From these words, copied from the manuscript of one who is too honest to deceive, and too accurate to be mistaken, the reader will see that the following sentence is a forgery, and a base one :— "In short, Jonson was in his personal character, the very reverse of Shakspeare-as surly, ill-natured, proud, and disagreeable, as Shakspeare, with ten times his merit, was gentle, good-natured, easy, and amiable." We have seen that Jonson said the verses of Drummond were good, but smelled too much of the schools: this is in a great measure true; yet it was the fault of his age; and it cannot be denied that, amid all his learned allusions, there is much noble natural poetry. There are few lovers of the British muse who are unacquainted with the fine sonnets of Drummond: they have been repeatedly likened to those of Milton; and passages from the author of 'Paradise Lost' might be quoted to show that he perceived the beauties of the northern bard, and sometimes condescended to imitate them. In truth, the poet of Hawthornden was a writer we agree with the editor, that "for solemn grandeur it may be compared with the best of Milton's sonnets." It was written before a poem called 'Irene.' Mourne not, faire Greece, the ruine of thy Kings, Which made thee once so famous by their Songs, That Hero's Ghost doth weepe to heare her name. Nor is the conduct of Britain, with respect to its men of genius, altered, but for the worse, since Drummond penned his indignant sonnet on the fate of Sir Alexander Falconer, of Halkertone. I feare to me such fortune be assign'd Whilst Vertue sterues vnpitied, vnregarded! Her haire rain'd pearles, her hand and lap dropt flowres. Led by the pleasant sight Of those so rich and odoriferous showres, Each shepherd thither came, and nimphes bright: Entranc'd they stood;-1 did to Chloris turne, And saw in her more grace than in the Morne. We know not with what success the poet Of one quho pitilesse in embush laye : The editor has done his duty in the true spirit: he has preserved the original text with the accuracy of a man who makes literary probity a matter of conscience; and he has illustrated both the conversations of Ben Jonson, and the letters, and anecdotes, and poems of Drummond, with learning which gives light, and with a diligence as unwearied as it is useful. The History of Charlemagne; with a Sketch of the State and History of France from the Fall of the Roman Empire to the Rise of the Carlovingian Dynasty. By G. P. R. James, Esq. London: Longman & Co. THE history of the period which immediately succeeded the fall of the Roman Empire, and that of the establishment of the Barbarians among its vast and memorable ruins, are among the most hopeless subjects that could be opposed to literary research. On one hand, the refinement and civilization of the ancient world had sunk into an idiot lethargy; and on the other, the simplicity and wild virtues of savage life had withered before the habits of the social state began to grow. All is darkness and terror. Nothing presents itself to the eye but a gloomy abyss, in which the decomposed elements of society are seen floating wildly about us in a chaos. Shadows mingle and jostle in the confusion; and in the midst, more definitely horrible, some demon-like forms appear, on which awakening History bestows the name of men, while she brands them with the characteristics of fiends. The narrative itself partakes of the spirit of its scenes and personages. Rude, cumbrous, of great taste and elegance ;-even in the sung his 'Persuasive Dissuading': the lines indistinct, overshadowed by fable, and dis work before us, there are poems, now pub- The Sea doth Venice shake, Rome Tiber beates, sitt. Bot this thy praise is, aboue all, most braue, The second sonnet has merit of a nobler kind: Rise to my soule, bright Sunne of Grace, O rise! To know my foot-steps, in these tymes, too-wise; I have gone wrong and erred; but ah, alas! What can I else doe in this dungeon dark? My foes strong are, and I a fragill glasse,Howres charged with cares consume my life's small sparke; grace obtaine, Yet, of thy goodnesse, if I My life shall be no losse, my death great gaine. His lament for Greece in the year 1610 will do very well, we are sorry to say, now: are elegant and warm : Show mee not lockes of gold, Soule charming smyles, nor lightnings of thyne eye, Where strawberries doe grow; Smyle, blush, sigh, chide, vse thousand other charmes, We shall conclude with a free translation of one of the sonnets of Bembo: it is really difficult to make selections: we might safely open the book at random, and quote the first we find : * As the Yong Faune, when Winter's gone away, Far from all cabans, and wher shephards are; As the Yong Stag, when Winter hids his face, torted by prejudice, it presents nothing more than a series-to use the words of the elegant historian of Charles V.-" of deeds of cruelty, perfidy, and revenge, so wild and enormous as almost to exceed belief." it is reared. In the midst of this chaos, there is one mighty landmark which draws the gaze of the world. The Empire of the Franks, consolidating, as it were, in a moment, the diffused elements, rises proudly and suddenly in the gloom, seeming almost to emulate the majesty of that "giant-statue," on whose ruins desert, where the explorer may rest his It is like an oasis in the wearied foot. Not satisfied with the real wonder of its existence in such a place, and at such a period, the imagination delights to invest it with all the glories of romance. The master-spirit of the spot-the architect who fashioned materials so rude into a form so splendid who upheld it while living by the spell of his genius, and at whose death it crumbled into ruins, is a demi-god, or something more. Seen through the mist of ages as dark as those which preceded him, his form acquires the dimensions of a colossus. Everything great and magnificent in the institutions of after-times is traced to its origin in him. He is the true founder of this lordly France, which still convulses the entire earth with its throes; his leudes or fideles are the parents of nobility; he is the first grand master of the sublime order of chivalry. He is The Great par excellence: and the title becomes so habitually united with his name, that he would not now be recognized under any simpler cognomen than that of CHARLEMAGNE. Such is the hero of the author before us; and in stating briefly the impressions we have received from the work, we do it with a full consciousness that his task was a most difficult and delicate one, requiring much patient research, and an imagination entirely under the control of judgment. Mr. James himself, indeed, appears to have been profoundly, and even painfully, impressed with the consciousness of his danger; and he determined that his book should be as unlike a romance as possible. And in some sense it is so. It is filled to overflowing with erudition; the facts are carefully sifted, and correctly stated; and the language is, in general, moderate, and suited to the dignity of history. This is high praise, and Mr. James must feel it to be so. We go farther, and say, that his work displays talent of a very high order, and that it supplies an important desideratum in English literature. We shall now as openly and frankly mention what we consider to be deserving of blame. The Saxon wars of Charlemagne, are the principal subject of debate among authors; and here, whether Mr. James be correct or not, in the side he has espoused-a question into which we shall not at present enter he is, in our opinion, grossly wrong in the length to which he has gone. There is no mystery whatever in the case of the Franks and Saxons. The former were somewhat earlier than the latter in the field of blood and rapine, and naturally wished to retain their prey, while the others as naturally wished to share with them. On this quarrel, Charlemagne determined, as Mr. James tells us, "to seek and subject them by force of arms," and, having so done, "to soften their manners and change their habits by the combined effect of law and religion": 'The military preparations of the young monarch were soon completed; and, entering the enemy's territory, he laid waste the whole land with fire and sword, according to the cruel mode of warfare in that day. No force appeared to oppose him, and he penetrated, without difficulty, to the castle of Eresburg, where a garrison had been left. The fortifications were speedily forced by the Frankish soldiers, and a much more important conquest followed than that of the castle itself, namely, that of the famous temple of the Irminsula, or great idol of the Saxon nation. The temple consisted of an open space of ground, surrounded by various buildings, ornamented by every thing rapine could collect and offer at the altar of superstition. In the centre rose a high column, on which was placed the figure of an armed warrior; and gold and silver, lavished on all the objects around, decorated the shrine, and rewarded the struggle of the conquerors." was Having overthrown this idol, which " not alone the object of veneration to one particular tribe, but was the great tributary deity of the whole people," and having, as we have seen above, "laid waste the whole land with fire and sword," Charlemagne, "seeking rather to reclaim than punish," accepted hostages, and withdrew his troops being "called hastily back to France by circumstances." But our author is not jesting, as the reader might suppose; for when the Saxons embrace the next opportunity of rising, he treats it as the vilest faithlessness. Every new incursion is described as an agression of theirs-an abuse of the clemency of Charlemagne, who had merely resolved at the outset, (according to Mr. James,) to subject them by force of arms, and make them Christians nolens volens. Surely this could not be what the Scripture calls baptizing with fire !-and yet "it is evident," as our author tells us, (page 243,) that "Charlemagne was inspired by a sincere love for the Christian religion, and an eager wish to spread its pacific doctrine amidst his barbarous and intractable neighbours." One proof of this pacific and Christian disposition, is the mas sacre in cold blood, of four thousand five hundred Saxons, after they had been subjected by force of arms. troops of the Franks had been regular soldiers for at least two generations, and, in general, they were led against peasants. If Mr. James will look into the Capitulaires of Charlemagne, he will find it rigorously forbidden to sell armour to the Saxons; and if he remembers, that it is now no longer a wonder how a single knight cased in steel should have driven whole bands of unarmed serfs before him, his admiration of the conqueror will be not extinguished, but moderated. The only other passage we mean to notice -or perhaps can notice-in blame, relates to Charlemagne's acceptance of the imperial crown. It seems he was trepanned into re But in his defence of the laws which Char-ceiving this gift, at the time he did receive lemagne inflicted upon this gallant people it! So moderate, so philosophic was he in after their final subjection, Mr. James is still his views, that his mind was not entirely more unhappy :made up, at least as to the proper time of ascending the throne of the Caesars; and, although the Pope had "obtained the consent of the Roman people, and prepared all things for his purpose," he alone entered the Church of St. Peter on Christmas Day-like a lamb to the slaughter-utterly ignorant that it was intended he should leave it the "Whether the exEmperor of the West! traordinary preparations which he must have seen in the church, had given Charlemagne any suspicion of the intentions of the Pope, or whether the conduct of the Pontiff really took him by surprise, must ever be a matter of doubt (!)" "Both from political and religious motives, it had become the great object of the French monarch to force this the most obdurate race of pagans in Europe, to listen to the voice of Christian teachers, which nothing but the fear of death could induce them to do: and for that purpose he used the terror of extreme punishment, as a means of enforcing attention to the doctrines of peace. But, at the same time, there cannot be a doubt, that he had no intention the severity of the law should have effect; for it was enacted by the self same code, that the unbaptized who receive baptism, and the relapsed who returned and underwent a religious penance, escaped the infliction of the punishment." Thus it was only those who would not change their religion, that were put to death by this clement monarch, and "such considerations shield the Saxon code from the bitter censures which have been directed against it by some writers." The code spoken of, inflicted death, as Mr. James tells us, "for a thousand crimes," and among others for refusing the Christian religion. We are the less punctilious in insisting upon the strange prejudice of our author, as he himself treats with disdain all who differ from him on such points, citing triumphantly in proof of the villany of the Saxons, and the clemency of Charlemagne, the conqueror's own secretary! Eginhard, to be sure, knew the facts as well as anybody-" mais le souvenir de l'honneur que le prince lui avoit fait, n'etoit-il pas un engagement à la flatterie?" asks Bayle, with one of his quiet sneers. We doubt very much the justness of Mr. James's reasoning, with regard to the succession at that period of the crown of France; and, therefore, the entire innocence of Charlemagne in retaining the inheritance of his brother's children, is at least problematical. The suspicion too of foul play, which exists in the minds of some writers in the case of the brother's sudden death, and the flight of his widow and children into Lombardy, is not even hinted at; while the demand of the princess to have her children placed by force upon their hereditary throne, is not allowed to appear as an argument either for right or custom. The ruling passion of Charlemagne was, in our opinion, ambition. For this he decimated Saxony; for this he divorced his first wife and married the Lombard princess; for this, he accepted or seized upon the inheritance of his brother's children; for this, he dethroned his father-in-law, and usurped his kingdom. His wars, however, were by no means so miraculous as one might suppose. The "However that may be, on Christmas day, Charlemagne, with the rest of the Catholic world, presented himself in the church of St. Peter, to offer up his prayers with the multitude, to the Giver of all dignities or debasements, the Ruler of kings and peasants. At the request of the Pope, and to gratify the Roman people, he had laid aside the national dress which he usually wore on days of solemnity, and which consisted of a close tunic, embroidered with gold, sandals laced with gold, and studded with jewels, a mantle clasped with a golden agraffe, and a diadem, shining with precious stones. He now appeared in the long robe of the patrician, and as military governor of Rome, presented him. self to the people as a Roman. The church was filled with the nobility of Italy and France; and all that they saw around, after they entered its vasts walls, must have told them that some great ceremony was about to take place. At the high altar, stood the head of the Christian church, surrounded by all the splendid clergy of Italy; and the monarch approaching, knelt continued to offer up his prayers. As he was on the steps of the altar, and for some moments about to rise, Leo advanced, and, raising an imperial crown, he placed it suddenly on the brows of the monarch, while the imperial salu tations burst in thunder from the people,Long life and victory to Charles Augustus, crowned by God, great and pacific Emperor of the Romans!'" Notwithstanding that we differ from our author in some points, we can congratulate him with great truth, as we do it with great pleasure, on the talent with which he has performed his task. If the work, however, was not so strictly a history, it might perhaps be less instructive, but would certainly be more popular. If we did not hear less of Charlemagne as a hero or a demi-god, we might at least have heard more of him as a man. There are ample materials in Eginhard and others for pictures of his private life, manners, and character; and we know few persons better qualified than Mr. James to paint them. The Highland Smugglers. By the Author of run THIS novel breathes of the northern mountains, and of them only: the costume of nature, of manners, and of incidents, is all of that land-in short, the whole, to use a northcountry expression, is "as Hieland as heather." This we consider a beauty; though it would not be much pleasure to us to " upon the sharp wind of the north," we like to hear how it fared with others, who adventured in that "land of dread," for, in spite of the broad and level way which Scott made by the skirts of Bennevis and the side of Benvenue, and his coasting excursions by "mainland and isle"-nay, in spite of the expeditions made by gentlemen from the south against the ptarmigan and the wild deer, the Scottish Highlands are still little known to any save the native mountaineers. We are not sure that the author of 'The Highland Smugglers' has wholly lifted the veil from this northern terra in cognita: he has, however, blown away a little of the mist from Morven. Though it has been his taste to indulge in long conversations, during which the story not only makes a pause, but sometimes actually runs back: though the tale of true love to which he treats us is anything but original-though stupid lairds and sharking attornies abound elsewhere-and though the story of abduction and violence with which the narrative con cludes is a little out of keeping with the manners of the present day, still all this is redeemed by the truth and nature of the delineations: the stalking of wild deer-the angling in mountain torrents-the search for the contraband distillers among the wild glens and mountains-nay, many of the true love passages are, to us, fresh, vivid, and natural. The story is, in truth, of little value. Tresham, a young Englishman, of good family, pays a visit to the Highland dominions of Mac Alpine, one of his schoolfellows, for the double often of the conceptions of other novelists in Excursions in India; including a Walk over the Himalaya Mountains, to the Sources of the Jumna and the Ganges. By Capt. Thomas Skinner, of the 31st Regiment. 2 vols. 8vo. London: Colburn & Bentley. It is easier to open these volumes at a clever passage than at a dull one; the author writes with fluency and spirit; he is a scholar without oppressing us with his learning, and a soldier without any professional pedantry. Most of the scenes which he describes are new; the incidents which he encounters on his way are curious or amusing; the people with whom he converses are tribes entirely out of the line of our acquaintance; their manners, their customs, their ceremonies, and their dresses, are all strange or interesting; and if we add to all this, a taste for the picturesque and tiger-hunting, we have made no defective summary of the good qualities of our literary soldier. There is, however, no perfection, we fear, in human nature: our Captain has his faults; he is generally too much in an ecstasy with everything; he writes with less simplicity than we could wish The Religion of Taste, a Poem. By Carlos In all her dwelling, tales of wild romance, There from all lands, and ages of her fame, The thoughts but with the past or bright ideal dwell. The walls around told all the pencil's power; purpose of mending his health and slaughter-Yet with its fearless notes the whole wide valley rung. The lonely prophet doomed to sudden fall These verses are elegant and harmonious, 11 In the early part of our voyage, one afternoon, a little before dark, while we were stand ing in a group by the banks of the river, a large deputation from the boatmen, with downcast eyes and cringing figures, their hands drew towards us, as if some most important rejoined in a supplicating position before them, presentation were to be made: the great body of the dandies, their constituents, followed at an humble distance. An old man opened the case, and complained, in bitter terms, how every day their meals were destined to pollution! 'Whenever we sit down to eat our dinners,' he continued, "the "gorelogue" (the white men) walk carelessly by; not only cast their shadows over them, but absolutely touch them with their feet! We are defiled!' he exclaimed; 'Ghureeb pur war! the poor man's provider: we are your slaves, your children; you are our fathers and our mothers!' This oration was taken up by all the men around him; and the great body, which had now drawn closer to us, listened with interest to the conversation. No one, I hope, would be inclined to ridicule prejudices, sincerely adopted, however absurd; but it was difficult to refrain from a smile at the fear of starvation they so eloquently described, from our own accidental contact with the rim of a cooking pot. They were soon relieved from their apprehensions, by an assurance that the men should be cautioned not to approach within a defiling distance of their food. I do not think the men very clearly understood the objection to their baneful touch. For sure! I heard some say, 'I would not eat his nasty mess, if he would pay me for it!' And when one of the boatmen broke the dish which a soldier had touched, and threw its contents, his only food, into the river, they were indeed struck with wonder. Do they put tricks upon us, with monsters and with men of Ind?' seemed a riddle, that all were anxious to have solved." The fertility and riches of the East, are the theme of all historians; the climate too comes in for its share: nevertheless, there are drawbacks: "In the beginning of April we began to feel the hot winds. As we were completely novices in the East, we had not prepared against them. It is impossible to conceive any visitation so severe; they generally begin about ten o'clock in the day, and blow sometimes so violently, that we are not able to advance, while moored perhaps to a low bank of white sand. The heat is so excessive, that it is misery to move, yet the budgerows rock so violently as to prevent the possibility of being still a moment. Clouds of sand drift about and enter our rooms at all quarters. The miserable natives sit without, quite overcome, to be powdered by them as they fly. All has so withering an aspect-the earth so dry, the trees so blasted, and the people, like faquirs whitened for penance, seem to have no life in them; all natural moisture locked up, they appear as if suddenly turned into stone, like the inhabitants of the enchanted town on the coast of India, in the Thousand and One Tales. It sets the teeth on edge to look at them." To ride through the streets of English cities, is one thing; to ride through those of Delhi, is another : "Riding through the town requires much management, and some skill. It is necessary to shout, push, and kick the whole way to warn the multitude to get out of the road. Occasionally you have to squeeze past a string of loaded camels, or start away from a train of elephants; and if your horse be frightened at these last animals, which is frequently the case, it needs some ingenuity to avoid being plunged into the cauldrons which simmer, on each side of the way, in front of the cooks' shops. The fear is mutual very often; and the elephants, in attempting to escape from the approach of a horseman, may well be supposed to throw the whole street into a fine confusion. In one of my strolls through the city on horseback, I was nearly swept away by a species of simoom, caused by the progress, through the dusty town, of some important personage travelling in state. "When overtaken by such a storm, it is a long time before you can recover either your sight or position. The idle cause of all this tumult was reposing quietly in a shining, yellow palanquin, tricked out with gilt moulding in every possible direction. He was preceded by a large retinue of strange-looking beings, mounted on horses and dromedaries, and dressed in the most fantastic style. The animals were covered with scarlet housings, bound by gold lace, their bridles studded with shells; round their necks were collars of gold or silver, with little drops hanging to them, that kept time most admirably with their jogging measure. The camels were likewise adorned with bells." India has its equestrian dandies as well as Britain: "When a youth of family is fully equipped and mounted for the course, he shows most plainly, by his air and manner, that he is, in his own opinion, all in all; the fashion of his turban, and the curl of his moustache, are evidently the result of great pains. The horse is covered with costly trappings; and what little of his natural coat can be seen, is as sleek as possible. His tail is long and sweeping, and his mane plaited with the neatest art, having points of silver to each length, to keep it in its place. He is taught to caper, to turn, and to plunge; and is constantly exercised in these accomplishments, particularly when in a crowd; for the great ambition seems to be, as with beaux of less showy exterior, to attract attention, and create waub to all the servants of the government in health to you! "The anxious wish I feel to see you surpasses all expressions in writing. The desire of my heart is, that you will come into the fort on the evening of Friday next, in the month of Sufur Moosufur, and partake of an entertainment and supper it is my intention to give. Make me happy! "May your hopes always be gratified!" "This invitation was written upon beautifully Our London thieves, dextrous as they are, "I have heard so many instances of the skill We shall reserve a few of the other pictures in these volumes, for our columns next week: ner's Excursions to all who are desirous of a in the meantime, we recommend Capt. Skinmore intimate acquaintance with the splendid scenes and singular hordes of India. Scottish Proverbs. Collected and Arranged the word "AGE": yet, under that title, where is the proverb He'll be rotten ere I be ripe? Again, under the heading " BAIRNS," we have sought in vain for Bairns and birds wad ay be pickling: nor indeed can we find it anywhere: yet it may be in the volume. We miss others too of our old, pithy, sarcastic favourites; nor with which we had no previous acquaintance do we think it any amends that we have some -new coined ones, in short, we suspectbearing but a very faint resemblance to the genuine old pithy proverb. Hundreds of proverbs might be added to this collection, and it would be well too to restore in their rustic meaning many which are erroneously given. We cannot, however, say Mony a ane spits in his loof and does little, for Mr. Henderson has done much, and we thank him for what he has done. Of Mr. Motherwell's portion of the work we must now speak he is well and favourably known both as poet and antiquarian, and though the skill of the latter was chiefly required in this introduction, he has occasionally shown that he has a feeling of a deeper sort than what grubbing among the rotten bones of old matters requires. His part of the work is full of agreeable knowledge, told agreeably; and we are the more pleased with this, because, in his former work, Minstrelsy, Ancient and Modern,' he wrote in a style which set our hair on end, and in a spirit which astonished us: those who admire the "Ercles vein," will find the following specimen pure and matchless-he is accusing a brother editor of old songs with not observing the ceremonious accuracy of Ritson ; "It is an unholy and abhorrent lust which thus ransacks the tomb and rifles the calm beauty of the mute and unresisting dead: and it is a most irreverent jest to tear away the ancient cerements in which they were swathed, for the purpose of tricking them forth in the garish holiday garments of the living and the walking flesh and yet this monstrous passion hath filled the soul of the editor of the 'Songs of Scotland,' and this heartless, tasteless, and impious jest glares frightfully in many a corner of his four volumes. While thus violating ancient song, he seems to have been well aware of the heinousness of his offending. He might shudder and sicken at the revolting task indeed. To soothe his own alarmed conscience-" But we cannot go on-in short, we must leave Mr. Motherwell's labours, both new and old; and we do so, not a little glad at heart that he can now think like a poet, and write prose in a style of sobriety and sense. Dramatic Stories. By T. Arnold, Esq. 3 vols. This little compact volume of Scottish Pro- of Andrew Henderson to correct, collate, and "Cards of invitation were issued by the Nu other no better claim to the title, than any series of tales; his characters speak when spoken to, and enter into discussions as the is not inserted under the letter H, but under occasion demands: when wearied with talk He's auld and cauld, and ill to lie aside, |