ART. IX. REVIEW OF COLTON'S SHIP AND SHORE, ETC.

Ship and Shore, or leaves from the journal of a cruise in the Levant. By an officer of the United States Navy. New York, Leavitt, Lord & Co., 1835.

Visit to Constantinople and Athens. By Rev. Walter Colton, U. S. Navy, Author of Ship and Shore. New York: Leavitt, Lord & Co. Boston: Crocker and Brewster, 1836.

"SHIP and Shore," is the appropriate title of the first essay of Mr.Colton at book making. It is original certainly, so far as the title is concerned, and if the reader should not discover in the volume something new and striking, it will be because he has read other works of a similar aim, or has himself crossed the ocean, and touched at the places which are here described. It is strange that our books of travel should in general so little subserve any valuable end but perhaps it is not so much the fault of the author, as of the class of readers to whom he may address himself: and yet an author, in our opinion, should be willing to forego the passing tribute of a glance from those who read merely to relieve the tædium vitæ, rather than strew his pages with perishable flowers only, or with incidents and things which "leave no mark behind."

It is not difficult to discover Mr. Colton's object in the conduct of this volume, and we can duly appreciate his motive; but still it is a question, whether any moral and religious sentiments, however adroitly introduced and happily expressed, can produce a permanent effect, where there is so much to enchant the senses, to cause the contentio laterum, if not to detract from the dignity of our conciliating mentor. We are aware that some cannot accredit the sincerity of another's religion, unless like their own, it is clothed in deep mourning, "with a coffin for a writingdesk, and a skull for an inkstandish ;" and that others are habitually grave from a lethargy of the physical temperament, or from a hebetude of the mental faculties. But whether our religion wear a smiling or sombre aspect; whether our emotions are habitually joyous or sad; in either case, there is neither evidence in favour of nor against our personal piety. It may be a question, however, to what extent it is judicious

in a religious man, when he essays to write for the public, to give vent to the exuberance of animal spirits, or to indulge in a playful humour. In what spirit and manner does it behoove him to conduct an account of his travels?

If his book be of an entirely serious character, it will repel one portion of the community from its perusal; if of a light, facetious order, it will not satisfy the other; if it unite levity with gravity, worldly scenes with religious sentiments, it may counteract its designed end. In the same manner that a Christian professor, so far from exerting a happy influence on any one mind by his conciliating conformity to the fashions and amusements of the world, has at once impaired his own seriousness and quieted the consciences of those who "see the right and yet the wrong pursue."

"Ship and Shore" appears to be too light for the grave, and if not too grave for the gay; at least too generally devoid of seriousness to impart that weight to some of its reflections which they otherwise might exert over the mind of the pleasure loving reader. The serious will wonder that our author should so often indulge in levity of composition; while others, from the same feature of the work, if they do not positively dislike his occasional transitions from the captivating scenes of sense, to the views and feelings which should controul and actuate us as dying immortals, may regard his moralizing as ex officio. It occurs to us, therefore, that the effect on the reader's mind will not be of a very decided character. On the one hand religious sentiments are too much concealed or modified; on the other, frivolous sentiments are too obtrusive. On this account, perhaps, it is advisable that books of travel should be prominently designed either for the religious or irreligious community. "Religion," (to adopt a remark from our author's preface to volume second, in which he alludes to the exception which may have been taken to the "harmless pleasantries" of "Ship and Shore,") is truly "an exhaustless source of cheering, all-pervading light." But there is an essential difference between the religion of the imagination, and the religion of the heart. The former captivates our nature,-the latter, in the full utterance of its deep emotions, (to employ a beautiful figure of our author's,) "comes upon the warmth of our enthusiasm like an avalanche into the sunny depths of an Alpine hollow." We

may be fascinated by the poetry of religion, while our heart still clings with devoted fondness to the idols of earth. Religious sentiments can hardly be invested with the embellishments of fancy, or grouped with the emotions of gratified sense, without paralysing their influence on the unrenewed mind.

In addition, it might be observed that one class of readers take up a book to be amused, another to be benefited. We are generally influenced in our choice of works by the mood in which we may chance to be. Whether serious or the reverse, the mind demands a work which shall contribute to the gratification of its present predominant emotion: and as in the one case, it is painful to be broken in upon by a laugh, so in the other it is not the less unpleasant suddenly to meet a face suffused with tears.

Still Mr. C.'s moral and religious observations are naturally suggested, and sometimes beautifully introduced; and if at times he appear on "light fantastic toe," the harshest remark which generous criticism can make, is, that he might, without indiscretion, have permitted some of his "feelings to pass off in silence ;" and that without impairing the interest of his work, he might have reserved some of the little incidents and scenes which occured, for the happy hours of unrestrained intercourse with selected friends. "There are folks," said Sir Walter Scott's Mr. Pleydell, (and being a lawyer, of course, he had not observed human nature to no purpose,)" before whom one should take care, how he plays the fool, because they have either too much malice, or too little wit." It may, however, minister some relief to our regret, that "there is nothing so silly, that some wise man has not said, and nothing so weak, that some prudent has not done."

The difficulty of most young travellers, is, that the little incidents which occur on ship-board, and which amuse the mind in consequence of the monotony of a sea life; or in a foreign hotel, and which owe their effect to the novelty of surrounding scenes, and that exhileration of spirits necessarily consequent on landing in health and safety, are supposed to be matters of interest to the busy public at home. On this account, some of the incidents which our author relates may appear trifling, but in general he is judicious in the objects which he presents to notice, and in the scenes which he describes.

But whatever minor faults may be detected in "Ship and Shore," it will be acceded, that its literary execution is of no inferiour order. The style is marked not less by chasteness than perspicuity, while it is enlivened by fancy, and enriched by the graces of poetry. His genius (for rare as this faculty is, we cannot but think Mr. Č. has been endued with a portion,) is descriptive rather than inventive. Impatient of restraint, it requires room to expatiate; and hence appears to more advantage in prose than in rhyme. Yet Mr. C. versifies with facility, and sometimes with beauty. But at times, it appears to us, that his prose descriptions display most of the soul of poetry. From his felicity of description, his writings may, in some respects, be compared to a gallery of landscapes and pictures. We can forgive him his admiration of Maria, for he has almost inspired us with the same sentiment. We can save ourselves the time and trouble of a voyage to Lisbon, Madeira and Scio, for his book has afforded us a clear and definite vision. We were about to utter a similar remark, respecting Constantinople and Athens; but whoever may have had a desire to visit these places, will find his emotions far from repressed by the perusal of Mr. Colton's second volume recently issued.

In this, there are fewer indications of the besetting foible of a celibate than in the preceding volume. As Shakespeare could "hang up philosophy" in compliment to the charming Juliet, so our author has now and then hung up wisdom in compliment to some of the fair ones whom it was his happiness to meet. But we should not take any exceptions. He is aware of all his faults. He writes not for criticism, (pp. 310, 311, 312,) nor for the multitude, nor fame, nor money, (O, what a triumph over the baser feelings of our nature !), but "simply because the humour takes him ;" and he must not be surprized, from the glowing colours in which he paints the female character, and his frequent digressions from almost any subject to something relating to the ladies, should lead some to define his "humour" without respect to Walker. More than once, if we mistake not, must he stand convicted, and blushingly "own the soft impeachment." Indeed we are convinced from certain things even in this volume, that if our author be not exactly the man to speak on some occasion to a resolution of thanks for the kind services of the kindliest of beings, VOL. III.

39

he possesses the indispensible element of poetry,-for a poet without a susceptibility to love, it would seem, is no poet

at all.

There is little comparison, however, between the preceding volume, and Mr. C.'s visit to Constantinople and Athens. Written in a style yet purer, and in some respects both dignified and energetic, it embodies less perishable materials. We did not anticipate a volume of this character from the unpretending, (will our friend forgive us?) the unguarded author of "Ship and Shore ;" and we are strongly biased in our feelings, if it do not secure to Mr. C. no unenviable literary reputation. Amid the multitude. of books by American travellers, it is a relief to the mind. to peruse a volume which is remarkable not less for purity of sentiment and philosophical views, than for the pleasantry of its spirit and the beauty of its descriptions.

We cannot trace Mr. C. through his journeyings, nor is it necessary. From his connexion with the frigate, he was able to touch only at certain prominent landingplaces.

:

His first view of Constantinople is thus described.

"Another night passed away in dreams of the past and the approaching and never was a magnificent dream more fully realized than when, with the breaking light of the morning, the obscuring clouds passed off, and left, in distant and developing view, the minarets, domes and palaces of Constantinople! This vast city appeared to swell, in a stupendous and gorgeous mass, from the very bosom of the Marmora. Nor were the expanding splendors of its first emerging aspect diminished, when a clearer prospect began to blend its insular outline with the main, and to present its continuous dwellings, mosques, and monuments upon their seven permanent hills. At every glance of the eye, some new range of swelling cupolas surmounted with gilded crescents, towered into view; or some new group of gardens disclosed, through an opening vista, their gathered depths of fragrant shades, or some unseen line of marble porticoes flashed into brilliant relief; till the mingled and varied whole stood before us in all the richest combinations which nature and art can bestow."

The following sketch, breathes into the readers mind the very stillness which pervaded the scene.

"The night soon came on, attended by a silence that one could hardly expect to realize in the tumultuous heart of a mixed and crowded city. Of the thronging multitudes scarcely a footstep lingered in the streets; a deep slumber seemed to hover at once upon each habitation; not a voice of wrangling or of revelry was to be heard; and nothing remained to disturb the stillness of the place, except the startled howl of the watch