transmits but three imperishable names in this department of literature, prior to the age of Shakspeare, and they were all of the same country and province, and almost of the same city. Two thousand years elapsed between their time and his, during which the spirit of tragic inspiration seems to have been silent, that it might touch his lips with an intenser force, and make him sole heir of its accumulation. Never were the gifts of genius better used, and never a richer fund bequeathed to posterity, by their possessor ; upon that fund all later writers of his own nation have ever since been drawing. We think not to liken any of his disciples to their great master, such an idea would be preposterousin that system there is but one sun, although there may be numerous brilliant stars; of these, the brightest to our view is Miss Baillie; and then, after many of lesser magnitude, we come to the class of dim orbs, to which Mr. Talfourd belongs. His second attempt at tragic writing is a decided failure. We have given "the Athenian Captive" two careful readings, and find very little in it to admire. Like Ion, it is of the classic school, but immeasurably inferior to it.

The plot is invented, not founded, on historic events. Thoas, the hero, is made captive by the troops of Creon, king of Corinth, and condemned to death by him for having slightly wounded his son Hyllus in battle; at Hyllus' intercession, this sentence is changed to perpetual servitude; the young warriors become ardent friends; games are ordered by Creon in honor of his victory over the Athenians; Hyllus engages in a chariot race his coursers become unmanageable, and, when on the very brink of destruction, he is saved by Thoas; a banquet is then ordered, in expression of joy at his rescue-at this banquet, Ismene, the queen, also a captive Athenian, who had been raised to the throne, but still retaining a grudge for the injuries once suffered from the Corinthians, with a view to exasperate and bring Thoas over to her purposes, requires him to serve at table as a menial; he reluctantly obeys, and at length, when required to present to the guests the cup filled to Cleon's "Ruin to Athens," he dashes it furiously to the ground, and calls down upon himself the vengeance of the king; Hyllus intercedes-offends his father, and is exiled. Thoas, previous to execution, is confined in a dungeon, where he is first visited by Creusa, the daughter of Creon, who was in love with him, and then by Ismene; the latter makes known to him her story, proves to him that she is of the noble race of Theseus, and that he is her son; and after much persuasion, exercising over him an irresistible charm, induces him to undertake the murder of Creon, which he soon accomplishes. Thoas escapes to the Athenian camp, loathes himself for his crime, but is put in command of the troops. Ismene assumes the government of Corinth; Iphitus, a priest of Jupiter the Avenger, orders a joint as

sembly of Corinthians and Athenians in the temple of that god, to inquire into the murder of the king; circumstances direct their suspicions towards Hyllus, and Ismene pronounces him guilty; he is about to suffer the ordinary penalty; Thoas exculpates him, and acknowledges himself the murderer, having first given himself a mortal wound with a concealed dagger;—and this is the grand denouement, and one of less dramatic effect we never knew.

The appearance of Ion was hailed with such loud acclamations by a numerous circle of personal friends, that for a time they were mistaken for an expression of general enthusiasm in its favor. The noble and touching traits of character of the hero, the extraordinary talent exhibited by Miss Tree in the stage representation of it, and the popular political sentiments of the piece, gave it an unusual temporary success. It is already seen, that the success was not owing to its intrinsic excellence; and knowing as we do something of the secret history of its bringing out, we feel justified in attributing it, in a great degree, to the same art, by which inferior poets often recommended themselves to an Athenian audience- the same that, in the language of Lord Hardwicke, compelled the "excellent Euripides to yield to a cringing competitor." We have seen as yet no account of the stage success of Mr. Talfourd's second drama: it was first acted at Covent Garden late in April; and we venture to predict, that neither its own merits, nor all the efforts of the author's friends, will gain for it the applause which Ion had. It has none of the beauty of language, and none of the fine sentiment, with which that abounded; it exhibits no lofty virtue in action, like that of the elevated patriotism of Ion; it excites no strong sympathy, and it has not one finely drawn character, and no dramatic power. Thoas, who must be intended for the hero, is simply just, in not allowing a friend to suffer the ignominy and punishment of an atrocious crime which he had himself committed; Creusa, the heroine, is a mere negative character, far less interesting even than Clemanthe; Creon and Ismene have not the finish of the classic school, nor are they wicked and cruel enough to excite the thrill of the romantic. . . . It was certainly a commendable motive which led to the production of this tragedy; but we greatly misunderstand the character of a London audience, if it proves the means of putting money into his friend Macready's pockets. Although we commend the movement, as an act of generous friendship, we would not be understood to concur in the sentiment of Mr. Talfourd, that the cause of the drama is the cause of humanity and goodness.

By CA12mo. pp.

33.-Hill and Valley, or Hours in England and Wales. THARINE SINCLAIR. New York: Robert Carter. 378. 1838.

THERE are three countries in Europe,-England, Switzerland, and Italy,—whose natural beauties, independently of society, are sufficient to delight, either when seen or well described. Although extremely unlike, each is perfect of its kind. Switzerland and Italy are all poetry; the one, wild, lyric, and impassioned tragic; the other, lofty, heroic. England is the prose volume of nature; but it is elegant, finished, graceful prose, like old Isaac Walton's, or our own Irving's. Of this volume, Miss Sinclair opens to us some of the most beautiful pages; and we have read them, as she presents them to us, with great interest and pleasure. She has disappointed us most agreeably; judging from her former publications, we took up her book with an expectation that we should not be able to get through it, and should have laid it down, when we had read the preface, and honestly confessed the fact, had it not seemed too much like giving up an intended visit, because the door of the house in which it was to be made, was in bad taste; we passed on to the next chapter; it grew upon us as we advanced, and we could not leave it until it was finished. It is a very agreeable "hill and valley" sort of book; there are so many good things in it, that one in reading it, is often obliged to stop, and cry out, capital! She is one of the right sort of travellers; her object is instruction and amusement, not good eating, and therefore she is always in pleasant humor; her book is not filled with complaints of the inns, the conveyances, and the roads; she has the prince of Conde's avant-courier, contentment, and that is sufficient to give fleetness to the horses, smoothness to the roads, and to spread an inviting table at every place of rest. To be sure, she travels through a country, where the sight of nature alone is a perpetual feast, and where every inn offers all the comforts of home; but she shows that she would not fret even in Spain, or in our new states; if she speaks of impositions and extortions, it is only as amusing incidents of travel; even continued bad weather, which tries the temper of all travellers, only calls forth from her some gentle expressions of regret. We like the spirit in which she travels, we like the manner in which she describes, and, above all, we like the sound principles in morals, religion, and politics, which she inculcates, when occasions present. We have no room for extracts, or we would illustrate the latter position most abundantly; but there are two passages which have so much of point, applied to our country, that we must introduce them here. Speaking of a proud display of arms on a coach-pannel, she says:

"It is a curious phenomena in coronets, that the older they are, the smaller they grow. No rule seems more perfectly without exception, than that those who

are excessively fond of rant-particularly arbitrary with their servants, or unusually dogmatical in opinion, invariably profess democracy; and we were amused in one respect, to see this so strongly testified on the pannel before us."

From the second passage, we take a valuable hint on the subject of charity schools; it is as follows:

"Mr. Bolton, who died lately at Bowness, has bequeathed funds for the erection of a magnificent charity school, which is rising up here like Aladdin's palace, on so splendid a scale, that I supposed it was a handsome new hotel in progress. Boys belonging to the inferior ranks in life must become sadly unfit for enduring the lowly roof and humble aspect of their parents' homes, when accustomed to the spacious proportions and brilliantly lighted apartments of such a 'pauper palace' as this. No wonder that discontent and insubordination arise in after life, when young men become reduced from all the ease and splendor of a wealthy hospital, to their original level, beneath a thatched roof, and on a clay floor."

Mr. Carter deserves praise for the excellent moral character of the books which issue from his press, and we should like to see some more extensive publishers following his example.

34.-Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Bart. By J. G. LOCKHART. Part seventh and last. Philadelphia: Carey, Lea, and Blanchard.

THIS work, the deep interest of which has made its protracted publication doubly tedious, is at last completed. The seventh volume describes the closing scenes of Scott's life, the rapid decay of his physical and mental powers, the publications of his last novels, his travels in Italy and Germany, and his last return to the land which he had so loved, to the now desolate home which he was never again to leave.

It is mournful to see the prostration and decay of such powers of intellect and feeling, as are disclosed in this volume; and scarcely less mournful to see how, when almost every other characteristic trait of his mind had disappeared, its restless activity still remained, to urge him to tasks he was no longer able to perform, and to deprive him of the repose upon which rested his only hope of recovery. He continued to write, in spite of the remonstrances of his friends, until the pen dropped from the trembling hand which could no longer guide it, and the last fatal stroke deprived him of every thing but life.

There are few tasks more difficult than that which the biographer of a great man imposes upon himself, and perhaps none which, if well fulfilled, are more highly rewarded. But to the biographer of Scott the undertaking, if a laborious, was not a painful one. Many of those who have astonished or benefitted mankind, be may compared to persons bearing a dark lantern, who throw light upon every object except themselves. The man and the author are often so widely different, that we sometimes fear almost to be

made acquainted with the one, lest it should diminish our respect for the other. Mr. Lockhart appears to have drawn the character of Scott with an uncommon degree of fidelity and impartiality; his greatest merit is, perhaps, that he thoroughly understood and appreciated his subject. He has presented us with a picture neither too cold nor too highly colored.

We cannot here go into an analysis of the personal character of Scott, any more than of his works, and their literary and moral influence. This we hope to do at large. We now simply remark, that Scott's was in many respects a nature most finely and happily organized; and whatever faults and foibles there were in him-judged from a high religious point of view, yet there has seldom been a person-perhaps never a distinguished literary man of genius-in whose character were united so many qualities to command at once admiration and affection. His heart and his head seem to have been naturally in fine proportion to each other. He was benevolent and honorable. His bitterest enemy-if he ever had an enemycould never have accused him of a single mean or little action in the course of his life.

35.-1. The Law of Honor. A Discourse, occasioned by the recent Duel in Washington; delivered in the Chapel of Harvard Uni versity, &c. By HENRY WARE, Jun., Professor in the University, Cambridge: pp. 24.

2. A Sermon addressed to the Second Presbyterian Congregation in Albany, March 4, 1838, the Sabbath after intelligence was received that the Hon. Jonathan Cilley, Member of Congress from Maine, had been murdered in a Duel with the Hon. William J. Graves, member from Kentucky. By WILLIAM B. SPRAGUE, D. D. Albany: pp. 15.

THESE are two excellent discourses, among the many, we believe, that were called forth by the duel at Washington last winter. The discourse of Mr. Ware, in particular, we strongly recommendthe views are sound, and the tone manly and able; and the cause of truth and virtue is eloquently enforced.

It was our wish and intention to have presented a thorough and minute analysis of the facts in evidence, in relation to the late duel, the causes and circumstances of the event, and the proceedings had thereon in Congress, that our readers might have before them a complete, as well as clear, view of the whole merits of the case, and of the conduct of all parties in any way connected with that guilty and melancholy transaction. But from unexpected and unavoidable circumstances we have been obliged to forego our purpose; and we regret it the more deeply, because we believe that the influence of party spirit, and of a profligate party press, have