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vanity at the expense of all the best affections of our pature. In his youth he was for many years the unyield

ing prey of contending factions, who made the possession The Life of King James the First. By Robert Chambers, of his person an excuse for governing the kingdom pre

Author of " The History of the Rebellions in Scoť: cisely in that mode which was most conducive to their land," &c. 2 vols. Constable's Miscellany, vols. LV.

own individual interests. With his spirit thus broken, and LVI. Edinburgh. Constable and Co. 1830.

his manhood thus cowed, his free thoughts thus oblitera

ted, he at last took his seat on the Scottish throne, and The leading characteristic of this work is, that it as he regarded this as only one step towards the more abounds in light and amusing reading. Mr Chambers, enviable throne of the whole island, he sneakingly forced yielding to the natural bent of his own mind, has not in- | bimself to fawn to, and temporize with, Elizabeth, on dulged in much profound thinking or comprehensive whom much of his future fortunes depended, even alviews, but is, as usual, anecdotal, chit-chatty, and plea- though that sovereign had worked his mother nearly all

He avowedly makes no attempt to write history, her woe, and at length sullied her high name with the and his biographical researches are as much directed to- murder of that unhappy lady. On his accession, James, ward the illustration of peculiar traits of character, and fortunately for himself, found England in complete reof the antiquated manners of the times, as to the deve pose, and having dozed away the remaining years of his lopement, opon wider and more philosophical principles, life, he died lamented, because, during the whole of his of the mental constitution of individuals, and the relative career, he had never done any thing that was either emiposition of states, parties, and opinions. Mr Chambers nently right or egregiously wrong. In short, he was a fills up a useful department in literature, and contents king without the spirit of a king. He was a douce honest himself with gaining some distinction in it, rather than man, indifferently well skilled in Greek and Latin, a aiming, perbaps unsuccessfully, at a higher rank. He faithful husband, and a true believer in witchcraft. It does not rear the solid fabric which constitutes in itself was better for his own happiness that he possessed not the memorial of past centuries, but he contrives to clear one tithe of his mother's genius or energy, for in his ow! away many of the defacing symptoms that have gathered country the times were stormy and troublesome, and had on its surface, and, like Old Mortality, brings out into he ventured forth into the blast, he would have been, like distincter relief the inscriptions originally written there. her,—"a reed shaken by the wind.” Being much more Mr Chambers is an indefatigable antiquarian, and de- willing to yield than to struggle, he escaped many danlighted with all the little bits of lore which antiquarian- gers, and passively filled up the purposes for which he ism affords. His chief pleasure, indeed, is to present us

was created. with little glimpses of the olden day, many of which are in themselves insignificant, but which, following cach James, and his biographer consequently works at consiother in close succession, make the picture complete, and derable disadvantage. The raid of Ruthven is the first carry us away from the smooth-faced present to gaze event of an interesting nature which occurs; and after upon the stern and rugged aspect of the past.

the dissolution of the Earl of Arran's government, little James the Sixth was a weak good-natured man. With interrupted the ordinary course of Scotch politics for sethe pardonable partiality of a biographer, our author has veral years except the king's trip to Denmark on the ocendeavoured to claim for him a higher character ; but it casion of his marriage. Between the years 1590 and won't do. From his birth James was of a rickety and 1603, the turbulent machinations of Bothwell, and that imgainly person, and the awkwardness of his physical curious affair, the Gowrie Conspiracy, were what prinframe seems to have communicated a similar awkward- cipally interfered with the domestic happiness of the moness to his mind. Not that he was deficient in the more narch. Aided by the recent publications of Mr Pitcairii, common endowments of intellect-on the contrary, we Mr Chambers has been enabled to give a full and satisfacbelieve him to have become, at an early age, what the tory account of the transactions in Gowrie House, and Scotch emphatically call an“ auld-farrant” boy, and, as succeeds (if we had entertained any doubts on the point he grew up, though his ideas came slowly, and often con- before) in establishing the reality of all the details of fusedly, and were seldom of a high and kingly cast, he that hasty and ill-contrived plot. In subsequently denevertheless displayed sagacity, and not unfrequently, scribing James's progress from Edinburgh to London, when his own time was given him, a good deal of pene- our author evidently feels himself much at home, and tration also. He was, moreover, of a docile and placable enters with all the minuteness of the old Chronicles into disposition : his resentments were seldom of long conti- the ceremonials, feastings, and rejoicings of that occasion. nuance, and as his measures were never very decided or The existence and discovery of the gunpowder treason is energetic, so his actions were seldom liable to much cavil- the most prominent event in James's English reign, and ing or obloquy. But, from his very infancy, he was a the chapter, in the second volume, devoted to it, we conmere tool in the hands of others. During his boyhood sider one of the best in the whole work.

The story is Buchanan tyrannized over him with all the stern tyran- told simply, yet with much graphic power. In both vony of a cold-hearted pedagogue, who fancies that, by un lumes there is, as we have already said, a great abunremitting severity, he will prove himself a noble instance dance of amusing matter; but the fault of the book is unof inflexible independence, and gratifies his own paltry questionably the too great love which it displays of small

Jambe rene har bile wa jimportant incidents in the life si



facts and mere gossip. Instead of presenting us with a

with their favourite divine. James was so indignant at clear and accurate estimate of the precise state of Eng- their conduct, as to rise up and cry, "What devil ails the land, both in its domestic and foreign relations at the people, that they will not tarry to hear a man preach? But time of James's accession, Mr Chambers prefers telling few of the nobility and gentry. Adamson now got into the

they all went out, leaving only himself, his courtiers, and a us that duels were very frequent, favouring us with all pulpit, and preached an eloquent, and, at the same time, the particulars of several, or rejoices in describing at full most inoffensive discourse, from a text in Timothy, enjoinlength the carousings which took place on the occasion of ing Christians to pray for all men. When he was done, the visit of the King of Denmark to his brother of Eng- James was under the necessity of conveying him to the pa.

lace with his own guard, to save him from the vengeance of land. But it is needless to find fault with a man's naMr Chambers is not a Hume nor a Robertson,

the multitude. Cowper, who had preached elsewhere to

the crowd which left the church in his train, was that afterhe is a pleasant and popular writer.

noon imprisoned, by order of the Privy Council, in BlackWe now proceed to do our author the justice, and afford

ness; while two other ministers of Edinburgh, for insolent our readers the gratification, of a few interesting extracts. language used at his examination, were deposed temporarily They are not made at random, as reviewers sometimes from their offices. A more unhappy instance is not upon say their extracts are, but are selected with some care, record, of the cheap boldness displayed by the early Scotch as favourable specimens of Mr Chambers's labours. The preachers; for here their war is not altogether against the following passage places in a strong, though almost ludi- authority of their sovereign, which forms so specious an ex

cuse for ihem in so many other instances, but against the crous, point of view, the insolence of the Scottish clergy, best and most generally recognised of the natural atřections." and the inefficiency of the king, in the year 1587—the year of Mary's execution :

Our next extract contains an attempt, and, on the

whole, a fair one, on the part of his biographer, to reseile “ As soon as James learned that they had been unsuc

James from the charge of overweening superstition : cessful, and that the death of his mother seemed to be sealed, he called back his ambassadors, and as the last resource

JAMES'S BELIEF IN WITCHCRAFT. within his power, appointed a prayer to be said for her by “ One of the most prominent charges brought against the the clergy. The form of this prayer was the simplest pos- intellect of King James, is his belief in witchcraft; and an sible ;-* That it might please God to illuminate her with allusion to his famous book on Demonology, is a favourite the light of his truth, and save her from the apparent dan

way of pointing an epigrammatic sentence against him. ger wherein she was.' Yet, because she was a Catholic, Many who never read his book, take it upon them, from and because the Scottish clergy feared every thing in the the changed opinions of the age regarding witchcraft, to shape of a set prayer, as tending to invade their precious

sneer at him for giving his countenance to so base a superprivilege of moralizing on the time' in their extempore ef-stition. But how easy it is for a small mind, amidst the fusions, they universally refused to perform this little office

means and appliances of a late age, to assume a superiority of humanity for a fellow-creature in unexampled distress, over the picture of a great one struggling with the sloughs at once insulting their sovereign and human nature. James, and shadows of a former and darker time! touched in his innermost heart by their unkindness, ap The true way of considering the case is this. There pointed Patrick Adamson, archbishop of St Andrews, dis

are some matters of opinion, in which no mind is in ad. tinguished as one of the most learned scholars and best poets vance of its age. Witchcraft was one of these till within of his time, to preach on the 3d of February in the princi- the last hundred years. It is quite observable that all the pal church of the capital, and to remember the queen in best informed intellects, both in Scotland and England, his prayers. The king probably thought that he might at

sanctioned that superstition, down to the time of the Releast have the appointed office performed in the church volution. The cause is the same with that which renders where he himself usually sat; yet, even in this object, an at.

a great mind equally capable of religious fervour with the tempt was made by the clergy to disappoint him.

meanest and most confined. Wherever it is looked upon as “There was something ludicrous in the scene which took place in the High Church in consequence of this insolence; reasoning, then no wonder that all kinds of intellest

a duty to exempt any thing from the ordinary modes of at least, it appears ludicrous in the eyes of a different age. alike receive it without hesitation. Such was the case When the king entered his seat, he found the pulpit pos with witchcraft about 200 years ago; it was an essential sessed, not by his complying friend the archbishop, but by thing in the religious creeds of all orders of the people; a pert young coxcomb of the name of Cowper, who was not

to deny it was blasphemy, or at least disrespect for the dicta yet invested with the orders of a clergyman, but who, ac of Scripture. Surely it is a very strange thing that a man, cording to the licentious custom of the Scottish church in

who fulfilled in his life and opinions the whole idea of a that age, was nevertheless permitted to exercise his func- good Christian, according to the views entertained of that tions, and even to take a part in the regular routine of du.

character in his own time, should, at the distance of 200 ties in the principal church of Edinburgh. Seeing that an

years, have so much discounted from his merit on one hand insult was intended, but at the same time willing to avoid for superstition, so much on another for ignorance, and thus a collision with men whom he had so much reason to fear, James called out, “ Master John,' (the usual way of desig, originally a very good repute!

be left with a miserable fragmentary reversion of what was nating a clergyman in his time,) that place was destined * But while James merits this general exculpation from for another; you must come down.' Cowper answered that the charge of undue superstition, the Dæmonologie' which he had come prepared to preach, it being his ordinary day, he compiled on the subject is in itself a very strong partiand, if it were his majesty's will, . he would fain do God's cular one. This work is by no means what is generally work.' The king replied, 'I will not hear you this day : supposed, a treatise written as a piece of special pleading, to I command you to come down, and let Mr Patrick

Adam- prove the existence of witchcraft, and to impress that belief son come up and preach.' Still Cowper parlied for permission to remain where he was, till at last the king good the play of a scholarly mind on a subject much beneath it;

more firmly on the public mind. It is a sort of jeu d'ésprit, naturedly said, 'that since he was there, he might go on, provided he would obey the charge, and pray for his mo

and instead of being an argument ail on one side, it is a ther.' To this Cowper replied, that he would do as the witchcraft, and one who does believe in it; and rather a

dialogue between a person who is unwilling to beliere in Spirit of God should direct him ;' when James, well know

statement of all the reasons pro and con, than any thing ing what effects would result from such a pseudo inspira- else. There is much piety in the book, much quotation of tion, peremptorily commanded him to descend. . At that Scripture, much acute and sensible observation ; but though moment, the king's guard advancing to enforce his orders, the writer evidently believes in the pseudo art which forins Cowper gave a thump on the pulpit with bis fist, and told the king that 'that day should witness against him in the

the subject of the treatise, and gives the last word on all great day of the Lord.' He then descended, exclaiming, in that the result of the whole is to give a mean view of the

occasions to the dialogist who believes in it, I cannot allows the true style of a Presbyterian seer of the time, 'Woe be intellect of the writer, or to entitle him to the sneers which to thee, O'Edinburgh, for the last of thy plagues shall be worse than the first? The people, who were in the habit others who are totally unacquainted in general with the

are so frequently aimed at him by modern writers, and by of paying a sincere and senseless regard to every thing which real nature of what they are professing to despise." fell from their preachers, uttered a loud and universal how] at this denunciation, and rose up to leave the church along There is something primitive and yet affecting in the

manner in which James prepared his Scottish subjects for anecdote of James. Dr Donne was so fond of London, on his departure to England :

account of its having been the scene of his birth and educaJAMES'S FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND.

tion, and from the delight he experienced in the society of “ On the succeeding Sunday, April 3, he attended public ber of country benefices that were offered to him. At last,

an old-established circle of friends, that he refused a numworship in the principal church of the city, for the purpose of taking a formal farewell of his people. The minister, opportunity of giving him his heart's content.

the Deanery of St Paul's falling vacant, James found an Mr John Hall, took occasion to point out the great mercies dered the Doctor to attend at dinner, “When his Majesty

Having orof God towards his Majesty, among which his peaceable had sat down, before he had eat any meat, he said, after his saccession to the

throne of England was none of the least pleasant manner, • Dr Donne, I have invited you to dinconspicuous. . This,' he said, : was God's own proper ner, and, though you sit not down with me, yet I will carve work; for who could else have directed the hearts of so nu

to you of a dish that I know you love well; for, knowing merous a people, with such an unanimous consent, to follow

you love London, I do therefore make you Dean of St the way of right?' « At the end of the sermon, James rose up in his seat, beloved dish home to your study, say grace there to your

Paul's; and, when I have dined, then do you take your and delivered the following speech to the congregation :: self, and much good may it do to you !" * Because that your preacher has spoken something in the harangue and discourse to the people, that as ye have mat

“ In other of his sayings, if not wit, there is evidence of ter by my presence to rejoice, sae ye have also matter by my this sort is the apophthegm which he made use of, in re

a mind alive to observation, and capable of using it. Of absence to be sorrowful; but I say it is a matter of rejoicing commending a country life to his gentry, in preference to not only to me, but to all them that love my standing ; for dwelling at London: Gentlemen,' such is said to have this cause I thocht gude to speak to all gude people of all ranks, that ye may know it was never my intention to usurp your which show like nothing; but in your country villages, you

been his address ; ' at London you are like ships at sea, crown, but being als lineally descended heir to the crown

are like ships in a river, which show like great things.' of England as to the crown of Scotland, as I was born richteous heir of the ane, sae am I richteous and mair better still in the saying he uttered, in the Bodleian Li

The illustration here is excellent. There was something richteous of the other ; and as my love could never be fra brary at Oxford, where, on a visit in 1606, he took his dethat country, sae now my expectations have never been frustrat; and as your preachers have said baith learnedly with which all the books were bound to their shelves, he

gree as Doctor in all faculties. Remarking the little chains and wisely, gif now my love be less for you, my people said, 'I would wish, if ever it be my lot to be carried capwhat micht ye think of me, but that I be ane troker of tive to be shut up in this prison, to be bound with these kingdoms? Ye maun put ane difference betwixt ane king chains, and to spend my life with those fellow-captives which lawfully callit to a kingdom and ane usurper of ane king- stand here chained ! Here we find the native propensity dom, as the King of France came sometime(lately) frae ane of the monarch, which was to learning, not to sovereignty, kingdom to ane other, sometime fra France to Pow, and breaking

resistlessly through the artificial character he wore, fra Pow to France, and could not bruik baith; as my

and affording us a delightful peep into the inner recesses of richt is united in my person, for my marches are united by the man. The saying looks like a Pythagorean recollection land and not by sea, sae that there is no difference betwixt them. There is nae mair difference betwixt London and

of a former state; as if he had all at once forgot that he was Edinburgh, yea not sae meikle, than there is betwixt In

now a king, and, as the Samian sage remembered having verness or Aberdeen and Edinburgh, for all our marches idea that he had formerly been a doctor of divinity, accus

been a soldier in the Trojan war, suddenly awakened to the are dry, and there is nae ferries betwixt them. But my tomed, in dim college libraries, to bend daily over solemn course maun be betwixt baith-to establish peace, and religion, and wealth betwixt baith the countries, and as God deeply folios, ribbed in the back, and breathing the dust has joined the trust of baith the kingdoms in my person,

of ages from every moth-worn pore.

“In a curious collection of jests, printed in the year 1640, sae ye may be joined in wealth, in religion, in hearts and and to which the name of Archy Armstrong is prefixed as affections; and as the ane country has wealth, and the other

a decoy, there occurs an anecdote which shows that James has multitude of men, sae ye may pairt the gifts, and every ane do as they may to help other. And as God has removit Two gentlemen, noted for agility, trying to out-jump each

was not uniformly accessible to the flattery of his courtiers. me to ane greater power than I had, sae I maun endeavour other in his presence, he said to the individual who jumped myself to nourish and establish religion, and to tak away farthest, · And is this your best? Why, man, when I was the corruptions of baith countries. And, on the other part, ye mister not doubt, but as I have ane body as able as ony old practised courtier, who stood by, thought this a good

a young man, I would have out-leaped this myself.' An vizzie you every three year at the least, or ofter, as I sall opportunity of ingratiating himself with his master, and have occasion, (for sae I have written in my buke direct to

struck in with, “That you would, Sir; I have seen your my son, and it war a shame to me not to perform that thing the king, as his usual phrase was, 'thou liest ; I would,

Majesty leap much farther myself.'—' Ó' my soul!' quoth take a compt of justice, and of them that are under me, and indeed, have leapt much farther, but I never could leap so ( that you yourselves may see and hear me, and fra the mean

far by two or three feet.” est to the greatest have access to my person, and pour out asked his name, who made answer, his name was Edward

King James, about to knight a Scottish gentleman, your complaints in my bosom. This sall ever be my course. Therefore, think not of me as of ane king going fra ane

Rudry Hudrinblas Tripplin Hipplas. 'How, how?' part to ane other, but of ane king, lawfully callit, going Rudry Hudrinblas Tripplin Hipplas.' The king, not able

quoth the king. Replies the gentleman as before, ' Edward fra ane part of the isle to ane other, that sae your comfort

to retain in memory such a long, and withal so confusedly may be the greater; and where I thocht to have employed heaped-up name, • Prithee,' said he, ‘rise up, and call thy. the gude prospering of me in my success and journey.' 1 selt Sir what thou wilt ;' and so dismissed him.” have nae mair to say, but pray for me.'

To the above, we cannot help adding the following “ The effect of this harangue was such as to dissolve the anecdote, which speaks volumes for the real goodness of assemblage in tears; for, however unpopular some of James's James's heart : measures had been, especially those connected with the church, his easy and kindly manners, and his sincere atten

INSTANCE OF JAMES'S MAGNANIMITY. tion to the public interests, had rendered him very much, “ These unpleasant circumstances, joined to the pains of and very generally, beloved in Scotland. He himself was various acute diseases, seem to have nearly broken the for(sensibly moved, in return, by these marks of the affection merly serene temper of the king; and he is said, by Wilof his subjects; and, when the magistrates afterwards came son, to have given way, at this time, to the following, among to receive his commands, he spoke to them in the most ten other instances of ill humour. It being on day necesder and affectionate manner, assuring them, that as his sary to refer to some papers of importance relating to his power to befriend them was now increased, so also was his negotiations with Spain, which had not been for some time inclination."

in his hands, he set himself to recollect where, or in whose To these extracts, we subjoin a few miscellaneous anec

hands, he had deposited them ; but, probably, from the distempered condition of his mind, was unable for a long while to come to any conclusion regarding them. At

length, it struck him that he had given the papers to John y "Walton, in his Life of Dr Donne, relates a delightful Gib, one of his old Scotch servants. Gib, however, denied

dotes :




having ever received them. The king stormed at this, and of externa Ibeauty,—a state of feeling which gives stapersisted in asseverating that Gib must have them; whichbility and intensity to the natural gentleness of woman's caused the man to throw himself at his Majesty's feet, and character, and establishes all that is virtuous within the offer himself for immediate death in the event of its being shrine of all that is lovely. Many of the bright and nofound that he had told an untruth. James not only disregarded the asseveration, but was actually provoked, in the ble daughters of our land will, in their own chambers

, or heat of the moment, to give Gib a kick in passing. On beneath the glad shadow of their ancestral trees, bang this the servant rose up, with dignitied and just anger, and over these “ Songs of the Affections,” and imbibe the pure said to the king, “Sir, I have served you from my youth, sentiments which they teach, until their own nature beand you never found me unfaithful; † have not deserved gins to assimilate itself to hers who thus pours forth porthis from you, nor can I live longer with you with this tions of her spirit to soften and refine, calling out the hiddisgrace : fare-ye-well, sir; I will never see your face more.' And accordingly he left the royal presence, took horse for den excellencies of a thousand hearts, as the light of mornLondon, and was soon far on his way. This unhappy af ing opens up the leaves of flowers. fair was no sooner talked of in the court, than it came to

The more of Mrs Hemans's poetry we can transfer to the ears of Endymion Porter, another of James's confiden our own pages, the more valuable we must make them. tial servants, who, immediately recollecting that the king The following poems speak for themselves, and need no had given him the papers, went and brought them to his words of praise to introduce them : Majesty. The behaviour of the monarch, on discovering his inistake, showed that a generous nature was at the bottom of all his absurdities. He immediately called for Gib.

One struggle more, and I am free. Answer was made that he had gone to London. Then let him be overtaken, and called back with all expedition,'

“ Leave me, oh! leave me!-unto all below cried the king, ‘for 1 protest I shall never again eat, drink; Thy presence binds me with too deep a spell; or sleep, till I see him again.' Gib being accordingly Thou mak'st those mortal regions, whence I go, brought back, James knelt down upon his knees before him (credile, posteri !) and, with a grave and sober face,' as

Too mighty in their loveliness-farewell,

That I may part in peace ! Wilson relates the story, ' entreated his pardon, declaring he should not rise till he obtained it.' Gib, put to shame “ Leave me !--thy footstep, with its lightest sound, by this strange reversal of postures, endeavoured to raise The very shadow of thy waving hair, bis master; but James would, upon no account, rise till Wakes in my soul a feeling too profound, • he heard the words of absolution pronounced.' It is Too strong for aught that loves and dies, to bearadded, that he made Gib no loser by the temporary demis.

Oh! bid the conflict cease! sion of his place. Could any thing give a more humiliating view of the character of the monarch?"

“ I hear thy whisper—and the warm tears gush We now take our leave of Mr Chambers, with a hope Into mine eyes, the quick pulse thrills my heart ; that he will persevere in his meritorious and entertaining The still submission, from my thoughts depart;

Thou bid'st the peace, the reverential hush, exertions, which, from the encouragement they have al

Dear one! this must not be.
ready received, will, we have little doubt, be ultimately
crowned with the success they deserve.

"'The past looks on me from thy mournful eye,
The beauty of our free and vernal days;,
Our communings with sea, and hill, and sky-

Oh! take that bright world from my spirit's gaze!
Songs of the Affections : with other Poems. By Felicia

Thou art all earth to me! Hemans. Edinburgh. William Blackwood. 1830. 12mo. Pp. 259.

“ Shut out the sunshine from my dying room,

The jasmine's breath, the murmur of the bee; This is a volume full of the beautiful thoughts of a

Let not the joy of bird-notes pierce the gloom! truly elegant and superior mind. To enter, at this time They speak of love, of summer, and of thee, of day, into any exposition of the genius of Felicia He

Too much-and death is here ! mans, would be a work of most immense supererogation. “ Doth our own spring make happy music now, Her name and writings are now familiar every wherc; From the old beech-roots flashing into day? and as long as exquisite sensibility, the most delicate re. Are the pure lilies imaged in its flow? finement, and the richest fancy, continue to be qualities Alas! vain thoughts ! that fondly thus can stray which command our love and admiration, so long will

From the dread hour so near! the authoress of the “ Voice of Spring,” and the “ Trea

“If I could but draw courage from the light sures of the Deep,” continue to enjoy the reputation which of thy clear eye, that ever shone to bless ? is now her own.

-Not now! 'twill not be now !-my aching sight The “ Songs of the Affections” consist of a great ra- Drinks from that fount a flood of tenderness, riety of miscellaneous poems, most of which have already

Bearing all strength away! appeared in print in different publications. Among these,

“ Leave me!-thou com'st between my heart and heaven! we are proud to rank the Literary Journal, and have I would be still, in voiceless prayer to die ! pleasure in seeing ourselves alluded to in the volume be - Why must our souls thus love, and then be riven? fore us, though but in a foot-note; for it is an honour to -Return! thy parting wakes mine agony! have our name linked in any way with that of Mrs He

-Oh, yet awhile delay?" mans. This lady enjoys the distinction of never writing any thing that is not read with pleasure. It seems to be

SONG OF EMIGRATION. impossible for her to produce a poem that is positively dull, or even indifferent. Every addition she makes to “ There was heard a song on the chiming sea, her book, is an additional gem more or less brilliant. She

A mingled breathing of grief and glee; is, in an especial manner, the poetess of the female heart,

Man's voice, unbroken by sighs, was there, of all its loftiest and purest affections, unalloyed by any

Filling with triumph the sunny air ;

Of fresh green lands, and of pastures new, of that false glitter which deludes the senses, and ener It sang, while the bark through the surges flew. vates instead of elevating. She is, in an especial manner, the poetess of the household hearth-of home-of all those

« But ever and anon endearing associations, which render domestic life the

A murmur of farewell happiest life of all,--the only life worth seeking for. She

Told, by its plaintive tone, is, in an especial manner, the poetess of truth, of tender

That from woman's lip it fell.
ness, and of high morality, of a state of feeling beyond
that of mere tumultuous love, or passionate appreciation

! A way, away o'er the foaming main!'
- This was the free and the joyous strain

• There are clearer skies than ours, afar,
We will shape our course by a brighter star;
There are plains whose verdure no foot hath press'd,
And whose wealth is all for the tirst brave guest.'

“ " But alas ! that we should go'

-Sang the farewell voices then-
• From the homesteads, warm and low,

By the brook and in the glen !
“• We will rear new homes under trees that glow,
As if gems were the fruitage of every bough;
O’er our white walls we will train the vine,
And sit in its shadow at day's decline;
And watch our herds, as they range at will
Through the green savannas, all bright and still.'

"" But woe for that sweet shade

Of the flowering orchard-trees,
Where first our children play'd

'Midst the birds and honey-bees!'
" • All, all our own shall the forests be,
As to the bound of the roebuck free!
Nove shall say, ' Hither, no further pass !'
We will track each step through the wavy grass ;
We will chase the elk in his speed and might,
And bring proud spoils to the hearth at night.'

« « But, oh! the grey church-tower,

And the sound of Sabbath-bell,
And the shelter'd garden-bower,

We have bid them all farewell!'
“We will give the names of our fearless race
To each bright river whose course we trace;
We will leave our memory with mounts and foods,
And the path of our daring in boundless woods !
And our works unto many a lake's green shore,
Where the Indians' graves lay, alone, before.'

«« But who shall teach the Aowers,

Which our children loved, to dwell
In a soil that is not ours ?
-Home, home and friends, farewell !""

“ From bills unknown, in mingled joy and fear,

Free dusky tribes shall pour, thy flag to mark ; Blessings go with thee on thy lone career !

Hail, and farewell, thou bark ! “A long farewell !- Thou wilt not bring us back,

All whom thou bearest far from home and hearth Many are thine, whose steps no more shall track

Their own sweet native earth ! “ Some wilt thou leave beneath the plantain's shade,

Where through the foliage Indian suns look bright; Some, in the snows of wintry regions laid,

By the cold northern light. “ And some, far down below the sounding wave,

Still shall they lie, though tempests o'er them sweep; Never may tlower be strewn above their grave,

Never may sister weep! " And thou—the billow's queen-even thy proud form

On our glad sight no more perchance may swell; Yet God alike is in the calm and storm

Fare thee well, bark! farewell!".


A glittering ship, that hath the plain
Of ocean for her own domain.

WORDS WORTH. " Go, in tby glory, o'er the ancient sea,

Take with thee gentle winds thy sails to swell; Sunsbine and joy upon thy streamers be,

Fare thee well, bark ! farewell ! “ Proudly the flashing billow thou hast cleft,

The breeze yet follows thee with cheer and song ; Who now of storms hath dreain or memory left?

And get the deep is strong! “ But go thou triumphing, while still the smiles

Of summer tremble on the water's breast ! Thou shalt be greeted by a thousand isles,

In Jone, wild beauty drest.
“ To thee a welcome, breathing o'er the tide,

The genii groves of Araby shall pour ;
Waves that enfold the pearl shall bathe thy side,

On the old Indian shore.

“ O, dim, forsaken mirror !

How many a stately throng
Hath o'er thee gleam'd, in vanish'd hours

Of the wine-cup and the song !
“ The song hath left no echo;

The bright wine hath been quaff’d;
And bush'd is every silvery voice

That lightly here hath laugh’d.
« Oh! mirror, lonely mirror,

Thou of the silent hall!
Thou hast been flush'd with beauty's blooin ---

Is this, too, vanislı'd all ?
“ It is, with the scatter'd garlands

Of'triumphs long ago;
With the melodies of buried lyres ;

With the faded rainbow's glow.
“ And for all the gorgeous pageants,

For the glance of gem and plume,
For lamp, and harp, and rosy wreath,

And yase of rich perfume, -
“ Now, dim, forsaken mirror,

'Thou giv'st but faintly back
The quiet stars, and the sailing moon,

On her solitary track.
“ And thus with man's proud spirit

Thou tellest me 'twill be,
When the forms and hues of this world fade

From his memory, as from thee :
“ And his heart's long-troubled waters

At last in stillness lie,
Reflecting but the images

Of the solemn world op high." We observe that Mrs Hemans has dedicated this volume to her friend Sir Robert Liston, under whose hospitable roof she resided for some time when she visited Scotland last summer, and in whose grounds there is now a walk distinguished by her namne, having been her favourite promenade, and one in which, we believe, she more than once courted the Muses.

“ Oft shall the shadow of the palm-tree lie

O'er glassy bays wherein thy sails are furld, And its leaves whisper, as the wind sweeps by,

Tales of the elder world. “ Oft shall the burning stars of Southern skies,

On the mid-ocean see thee chain'd in sleep, A lonely home for human thoughts and ties,

Between the heavens and deep! ** Blue scas that roll on gorgeous coasts renown'd,

By night sball sparkle where thy prow makes way; Strange creatures ot'the abyss that none may sound,

In thy broad wake shall play,

The Denounced. By the Author of “ Tales by the

O'Hara Family.” In three volumes. London. Colburn and Bentley. 1830.

Mi Banna's works are distinguished by depth and intensity of passion, and by what is more rare at present, great skill in constructing his story, so as to prevent the reader seeing clearly in the first chapter what the last

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