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are but as drops in the wide oceans of space and eternity. And thus it is in literature also. He who is acquainted only with the literature of his own times, is apt to contract habits of overweening conceit. It is good for us at times to look back upon the works of the master spirits who have gone before us. In a particular manner are we inclined to attribute importance to retrospects of French literature the most peculiar and not the least valuable which time has bequeathed to us

We do not, however, propose entering upon this task to-day. As soon as Messrs Treuttel and Würtz have furnished us with the whole works of Molière we shall commence our remarks upon him, and shall afterwards take up his countrymen as the successive numbers of this interesting miscellany furnish occasion. It will be with

us a labour of love, and it is one not uncalled for at a time when it is the fashion to speak slightingly of the classics of France-a fashion which betrays at once gross ignorance and presumption. We confine ourselves for this time, however, to an analysis of the plan of the work which has suggested this undertaking on our part.

It is proposed to give the entire works of Molière, Racine, and Boileau-of the two former as the most characteristic of the French drama-of the latter as legislator of French criticism. Of the remaining authors it is intended to give merely a selection of their best works. The publishers seem to have been led to adopt this resolution, chiefly by the consideration that the works of some of these authors were too voluminous to admit of an entire reprint in a publication like theirs, or that some of their works were, from their subjects, foreign to a collection of general literature. They insinuate, also, that they have been moved in part by a feeling that some of them were in the habit of repeating their good things, at least of writing in a less varied spirit.

The collection commences with the French Theatre. Molière, as the reader already knows, leads off the dance: to him succeed Corneille, Racine, and Voltaire. Boileau follows close upon the dramatists. Then come, we believe, the Henriade of Voltaire, the sublime lyrics of J. B. Rousseau, the playful, graceful tales of Lafontaine. The Thoughts of Pascal, the Maxims of Rochefoucauld, and Characteristics of La Bruyère, form one rich and varied volume. Telemachus comes next; then Bossuet's Discourse on Universal History; then the Petit-Carême of Massillon. A large selection of the works of Montesquieu is next to appear. This is followed by the best philosophical works of Voltaire, and these by his romances and moral tales. The Romances of Le Sage conclude the list as it at present lies before us.

It will appear from this detailed arrangement, that when an author has excelled in more than one species of composition, his different productions are to be arranged in the Library under the classes to which they respect ively belong. The principle of arrangement and selection upon which the Editors proceed, is to us a matter of com

GLASGOW PUBLICATIONS.

The Life of Thomas Muir, Esq., Advocate; with a full Report of his Trial. By Peter Mackenzie. 8vo. Pp. 160. Glasgow: M'Phun. London: Simpkin A Vision of Hell. A Poem. Post 8vo. Pp. 165. Glasgow: John Reid. Edinburgh: Henry Constable. 1831.

and Marshall. 1831.

Necropolis Glasquensis; with Observations on Ancient and Modern Tombs and Sepultures. By John Strang. 8vo. Pp. 72. Glasgow. Atkinson and Co. 1831. Select Views of the Lakes of Scotland, from Original Paintings, by John Fleming, Engraved by John Swan; with Historical and Descriptive Illustrations. By John M. Leighton. 4to. Parts I., II., and III. Glas gow: Joseph Swan. London: Moon, Boys, and Sketch of the Origin and Progress of the Literary and Commercial Society of Glasgow, with a Proposal and Plans for the Publication of a Portion of its Transactions. By Thomas Atkinson. (Printed for private circulation.) Glasgow. 1831.

Graves. 1831.

We love our good city of Glasgow. Standing (in imagination) beneath Knox's Monument, and piercing the dense cloud of smoke which wraps in a mystic obscurity the thronged dwellings stretching along the Clyde, on either side of the "Brown Mollendinar,"-up the river till they are lost in the land of colliers, or downward, over the undulating surface of Blytheswood Hill, towards the Kelvin-we embrace its whole population in our capacious heart. Casting a lingering glance at the majestic Cathedral, we pass down the High Street, take a peep at the massive front of the College, and its shamefully curtailed garden, take a turn along the Trongate, and down the "Saltmarket." To the stranger, who visits Glasgow for the first time, we recommend this route, if he be one who loves to trace the remnants of gone days. It brings him in contact with a narrow strip of old Glasgow, venerable from the dark hue of the walls, and the remains of solid beavy masonry, living on like some gallant veteran amid a new generation. On one side of it we have princely streets and squares-on the other, the meagre modern squalor of St John's parish; but this land of our love-this little Goshen in the great Egypt of modern Glasgow-looks as if Bailie Nicol Jarvie's eye had rested upon it with a love which conferred immortality.

Glasgow has deserved well of the literature of our country. Within the walls of her university, Reid, Smith, Millar, Black, Young, Jardine, Thomson, and Hooker, have infused their own bold spirit of research into successive generations. Under their tuition have been evolved the talents of many, the noblest names of living literature. It was in Glasgow that the brothers Foulis placed British typography on a par with that of the Elzevirs. We do not stop to enumerate the many associations for promoting art and literature which have risen and sunk in that city, leaving, in many instances, no name behind them, but all helping to disseminate the seeds of thought. We confine ourselves at present to the Andersonian University-an institution which has done much good, and

will do more—the Maitland Club, the promising younger brother of the Bannatyne!—and the spirited association of gentlemen for encouraging art. There is a sound and healthy spirit awake in Glasgow. Let the citizens look to it that they cherish it. There is a tendency in genius and refinement of every kind to concentrate towards the capital-and it is the duty of us provincials to beware that we do not remain sluggish and inert after the abstraction. No nation can prosper where the metropolis engrosses all the intellectual energy. There must be a soul in every department of the body politic.

We have been led to indulge in these remarks by having our attention casually attracted to the number of Glasgow publications which are this week upon our table. It has occurred to us, that by bringing them collectively under the reader's notice, we may give a more just notion of the literary activity of that city, than by scattering them among the other books which are at present waiting for judgment. It is not necessary for establishing the character of their birthplace, that any one of these works should be of first-rate eminence in its department. In an age like ours, when every thing is published, it is sufficient that we see the spirit busy. The fate of by far the major number of publications is necessarily to pass away and be forgotten. They have done important service, if, during their brief existence, they have set one mind a-thinking. It is only the giants of literature who can stem that sweeping torrent which bears down so much, both of good and bad, to oblivion.

Having brought our long preamble to a close, we proceed to examine the works enumerated at the commencement of this paper.

THE LIFE OF THOMAS MUIR.-This is a book which we cannot read without blushing. The date of Muir's trial is the year 1793-not forty years back; and yet the proceedings would have disgraced the times of Cardinal Beaton. Thomas Muir, a man of the strictest probity and deep religious feelings,—a man of good family and highly educated-was tried for sedition before the Court of Justiciary. He and his witnesses were browbeat by the judges in a manner as inhuman as it was illegal. Gentlemen were allowed to sit upon the jury, who were members of an association for the prosecution of all per. sons guilty of such practices as he was accused of. The counsel for the crown, contrary to the law of Scotland, led evidence to establish criminal acts not included in the indictment, and evidence which is not held admissible in our courts. It appeared on the trial, that attempts had been made to suborn witnesses. And yet the only fact proved against Mr Muir was, that he had advocated at public meetings a constitutional reform, less sweeping than that now submitted to Parliament by the ministers of the crown, in terms as moderate as are used by many who oppose that measure. This is not recognised as a crime by any law of this country; yet for this was Muir sentenced to fourteen years' transportation to Botany Bay. He was conveyed to the scene of punishment, manacled, and in company with felons of the lowest class. He was enabled, by the assistance of some American gentlemen, to make his escape; but was shipwrecked near Nootka Sound. He remained a few weeks among the Indians, then travelled alone to the Spanish colonies, was there thrown into prison, and finally sent to Europe. The vessel which carried him was attacked by a British frigate; he was wounded incurably, and died not long afterwards at Paris. We offer no comments upon these simple facts. They furnish a fearful picture of what atrocities party spirit and political bigotry can impel men to perpetrate. At a moment of excitement like the present, we should have hesitated to revive the recollection of them, but for their dreadful warning. Muir was an innocent and murdered man, and for the wealth of worlds would we not incur the responsibility of his persecutors. "In the hour of death and the day of judgment, God will remember them." Mr Mackenzie's work evinces

generous feeling and careful research—but the style is juvenile, and too ambitious.

A VISION OF HELL.-There is bad taste in the title. It is meant to be striking, and is only puerile. The poem consists of two parts:-Tartarus in nine, and Elysium in seven cantos. It is composed in blank verse, which is never very musical, and is sometimes very lame. Tartarus is extremely insipid. Elysium is better; but all that can be said for it is, that it contains reminiscences of classical literature, elegantly, but rather tamely, expressed. The author is a scholar and a man of taste, but we rather fear he is no poet.

NECROPOLIS GLASGUENSIS.-This is an elegant and pleasing work. We heartily approve of the sentiments expressed by the author, and the end which he seeks to promote. It appears to us, however, that he indulges occasionally in some notions which are, to say the least, a little fantastic, and occasionally in an unnecessary parade of his extensive reading. His object is to get the piece of enclosed ground within which Knox's mo nument is erected, the declivity of the Mollendinar glen, in short, opposite to the Cathedral, converted into a public cemetery, and laid out with some attention to ornament. We heartily concur in his remarks upon the general beastly state of our Scotch burial-grounds. The Maclarties are in the process of being driven from the abodes of the living, but they still reign lords paramount of the mansions of the dead. We concur also in the opinions he expresses regarding the beneficial tendency of habituating a people to feel a pride and pleasure in ornamenting the graves of their lost ones; with this restriction, that it be not carried to the finical and maudlin excess of his and Lady Morgan's favourite cemetery of Père la Chasse. That is tainted with the very coquetry of sentiment. It is a fit rendezvous for dames of Ephesus. How much more touching the unstudied elegance of a Swiss grave-yard! We know one place of sepulture, even in Scotland, which seems specially consecrated to the spirit of beauty. It is that of the little parish of Senwick, in Galloway, now merged with two others into one larger cure. The church is no longer used, and has been allowed to go to ruin. The burying-ground is bounded by two gentle ascents-that to the north is wooded-which commencing their rise from its walls, effectually shut it out from the view even of the nearest dwelling-houses. The third side runs along the summit of a precipice which sinks down abruptly to the waters of a secluded bay, formed by the embouchure of the Dee. The graves, the ruins of the church, the debris which lie in strange confusion, or shoot up in tall obelisks at the foot of the precipice, are mantled with ivy. The quiet nook is almost overgrown with wild briers and the stunted hawthorn, which seems to shoot up spontaneously over the whole south of Scotland. The vegetation is plentiful, but, owing to the shallowness of the soil, not unduly luxuriant. The last time we visited the spot, was on one of those still grey autumnal days so frequent in our climate. The foliage was rich with all the varied dyes of the season. From the scarlet haw, and the still richer scarlet leaf of the crane-bill, (geranium pusillum,) to the funereal green of the ivy, there was a continuous chain of connecting tints, beautifully and variously mingled. All was silence save for the occasional cawing of a stray rook. Man and his doings were only to be seen far away over the motionless water, which glimmered dimly through the thick atmo sphere. There were traces of humanity around, but they were consecrated to death; and moreover,

Dying insensibly away

From human thoughts and purposes,
The building seems, wall, roof, and tower,
To bow to some transforming power,

And blend with the surrounding trees.

True ornament must be based on nature and necessity. It is no fabled bird of paradise floating for ever on the

atmosphere,—at each new flight it must spring again from some resting-place. Let the author of the book, which has suggested these remarks, qualify his enthusiasm with this recollection, and persevere in his good task. There are only three means of attaining his end. The first is, Agitation; the second, Agitation; the third, Agitation. SWAN'S SELECT VIEWS OF THE LAKES OF SCOTLAND.We have for some time had our eye upon Mr Swan, as one of the most accurate and elegant, if not indeed the most accurate and elegant engraver of botanical drawings in Scotland. We have also traced with sincere pleasure his gradual rise in a higher department of his art-landscape engraving. We can trace his progressive improvement even in the work before us, the third part of which is immeasurably superior to its predecessors. The other two were more than respectable, but this is elegant. Messrs Fleming and Swan have now presented us with views of the interminable Loch Lomond, in all its varying aspects. They have penetrated into Perthshire, and led us through the wild magnificence of Loch Katrine; round the lonely shores of Loch Auchray, which, in its surpassing gentleness, lies girdled round by stern, stony mountains, like some feudal beauty, guarded by the rude forms and faces, but faithful hearts of her father's retainers; up to Loch Venachoir, fair to the eye, but beneath whose specious surface dwells the dread Water-Horse. Mr Swan's style of engraving is still, if any thing, rather too timid and anxious-his lights and shadows are apt to want breadth, and do not fade into each other with sufficient softness. Notwithstanding these drawbacks, (for which we suspect the painter is in part to blame,) Mr Swan already stands high as an engraver, and may stand still higher if he do himself justice.

SKETCH OF THE LITERARY AND COMMERCIAL SOCIETY OF GLASGOW.-We notice this brochure by our indefatigable and talented friend Atkinson, merely as an excuse for adverting to the existence of a society which has held the noiseless tenor of its way in Glasgow since 1806, and yet has witnessed the developement of more talent than many which make a noise in the world. It has been graced with the co-operation of a Campbell and a Mylne. It was to it that Dr Chalmers first expressed his views of the Cause and Cure of Pauperism. Mr Owen, too although this be more a matter of curiosity than importance-first expounded his system within its walls. Many others might be mentioned.

We have now gone over our last importations from Glasgow, and when we add that they are merely a fair average specimen of its literary labours, we are sure that the reader will agree with us that there is a good spirit at work in that great community, which cannot fail to bring forth good fruit.

department of the community, have attracted the eulogies of all whose commendation is desirable.

But while such is the general sentiment in regard to this body in its present state, there is reason to fear, that prejudices still exist in the minds of not a few as to some of its founders. They are spoken of as good men, but as turbulent and fanatical; their zeal is considered as by far too vehement for its object; and their aim, notwithstanding their high professions of entire devotedness to the glory of God, is asserted to have been the attainment of popular influence, or the gratification of party feeling. Nothing can be better adapted to remove these prejudices, as far as they regard Ebenezer Erskine, whose character has been principally affected by them, than the volume before us, which is a well-written performance, and remarkable for its calm, judicious, and charitable spirit. We here see him acting under the strongest convictions of duty, happiest in the tranquil scenes of the pastoral functions, and walking humbly with God in the sequestered spot where a great part of his life was spent. A Diary, written by himself in a peculiar kind of short hand, has been deciphered with great labour, and has contributed to enrich the work. In it we see, not the zealot, but the man of God; not envy working, nor revenge plotting; but contrition weeping in secret places, faith embracing the promises, and love and joy delighting themselves in God. Many affecting incidents in his family and neighbourhood are here alluded to, and the workings of his mind respecting them are depicted with every symptom of sincerity.

To the adherents to the Secession this work will be peculiarly interesting; but the good of other parties will read it with pleasure, as a book which shows the influence of Christian principle to support and invigorate the mind, and the power of devotion working in sorrow and reproach, in suffering and death. It contains, besides the incidents connected with the rise of the Secession, many interesting particulars on the state of the Church of Scotland in the beginning of the last century; the rebellion in 1715 and 1745; and striking anecdotes respecting individuals. Of the latter, we present our readers with one as a specimen, in which Mr Erskine is a chief actor, and we are sorry our limits will not permit us to give more.

"At one time, after travelling, towards the end of the week, from Portmoak to the banks of the Forth, on his way to Edinburgh, he, with several others, was prevented by a storm from crossing that frith. Thus obliged to remain in Fife during the Sabbath, he was employed to preach, it is believed, in Kinghorn. Conformably to his divine countenance and aid in the work of the day; but usual practice, he prayed earnestly in the morning for the suddenly missing his note-book, he knew not what to do. His thoughts, however, were directed to that command,

Thou shalt not kill;' and having studied the subject with as much care as the time would permit, he delivered a short returned to his lodging, he gave strict injunctions to the sermon on it in the forenoon after the lecture. Having servant that no one should be allowed to see him during the interval of worship. A stranger, however, who was also one of the persons detained by the state of the weather, expressed an earnest desire to see the minister; and having with difficulty obtained admittance, appeared much agitated, and asked him, with great eagerness, whether he knew him, or had ever seen or heard of him. On receiving assuracter, and history, the gentleman proceeded to state that rance that he was totally unacquainted with his face, chahis sermon on the sixth command had reached his conscience; that he was a murderer; that, being the second son of a Highland laird, he had some time before, from base and selfish motives, cruelly suffocated his elder brother, who slept in the same bed with him; and that now he had no peace of mind, and wished to surrender himself to justice, to suffer the punishment due to his horrid and unnatural crime. Mr Erskine asked him if any other person knew any thing of his guilt. His answer was, that, so far as he was aware, not a single individual had the least suspicion of it; on which the good man exhorted him to be deeply affected with a sense of his atrocious sin, to make an imine

diate application to the blood of sprinkling, and to bring forth fruits meet for repentance; but, at the same time, since, in Providence, his crime had hitherto remained a secret, not to disclose it, or give himself up to public justice. The unhappy gentleman embraced this well-intended counsel in all its parts, became truly pious, and maintained a friendly correspondence with this servant of the Most High God' in future life. It is added, that after he withdrew, the minister had the happiness to recover the manuscript formerly missing; and, in consequence, preached in the afternoon on the topic he had originally in view.'

It may be thought by some that the advice was too lenient, and that such a monster should not have been suffered to live to enjoy the fruits of his villainy; but if he was a sincere penitent, his crime would be ever before him in the deepest anguish; and if this was only a temporary awakening of terror and remorse, Providence would, in some other way, make his sin to find him out. The extracts from the Diary will be pleasing to pious readers. It shows the delight which Mr Erskine felt in prayer, and how he was tried with that bitterness of heart under which true Christians often groan. We must own, however, that there are some passages in it which strike us as too familiar for the public eye; and as likely to strengthen the objections of many against the publication of such writings. Mr Erskine's writing it in short hand, and his discontinuing it during the most important and busy period of his life, seem to intimate that he had lost those impressions of the utility of the practice which he once had. It is plain, from its whole strain, that the idea of its being published never once entered his mind. It is said, that to the pure all things are pure; but what is published is laid open to the inspection of all; and it is easy to judge what unhappy effects, on some classes, the indiscreet disclosure of the secret confessions, and fears, and struggles of good men may have. It will make many attach the idea of sullenness to men they were accustomed to venerate; and of gloom and terror to a religious course, whose ways they have been told are ways of pleasantness.

We wish the editor had woven the most interesting passages of this Diary into the narrative, as illustrations of particular scenes or virtues. Thus the feeling of dullness and sameness, which is apt to be excited by frequently recurring extracts, would have been avoided; and thus Mr Erskine would have been presented to us in a way more vivid, and what he did to men would have been shown in connexion with his purposes before God. Upon the whole, we consider this book as a respectable piece of biography. The style is clear and correct, the reflections are judicious and appropriate, and the good sense and candour of the writer are everywhere apparent.

consist are before us. Wilson, like Audubon, is identified with his writings. At present we can only remark, that the learned editor, according to the most approved system of birds described in this work have been classified by the

arrangement.

The bulk of the notes has been reserved

for the concluding volume. It is enough to say that they are to be furnished by him who first created the study of natural history in Edinburgh. But we have been farther given to understand, that it is Professor Jameson's intention to add an appendix of the arctic birds of America, the materials for which have been chiefly furnished by the enterprising discoverer, and distinguished naturalist, Dr Richardson. As a matter of course, the professor will avail himself of the valuable contributions of the Prince of Musignano to the Italian journals, as far as they bear upon his subject.

We present our readers with a few extracts, which are submitted to them simply as specimens of Wilson's style. The first leaves a favourable impression of his powers of describing natural scenery.

"Though generally dissuaded from venturing by myself on so long a voyage down the Ohio in an open skiff, I considered this mode, with all its inconveniences, as the most favourable to my researches, and the most suitable to my funds; and I determined accordingly. Two days before my departure, the Alleghany river was one wide torrent of broken ice, and I calculated on experiencing considerable difficulties on this score. My stock of provisions consisted of some biscuit and cheese, and a bottle of cordial, presented me by a gentleman of Pittsburg; my gun, trunk, and great coat, occupied one end of the boat; I had a small tin, Ohio with; and, bidding adieu to the smoky confines of occasionally to bale her, and to take my beverage from the Pitt, I launched into the stream, and soon winded away among the hills that everywhere enclose this noble river. The weather was warm and serene, and the river, like a mirror, except where floating masses of ice spotted its surface, and which required some care to steer clear of; but these, to my surprise, in less than a day's sailing, totally disappeared. Far from being concerned at my new situa tion, I felt my heart expand with joy at the novelties which of the red bird on the banks as I passed, and contemplated surrounded me; I listened with pleasure to the whistling the forest scenery, as it receded, with increasing delight. The smoke of the numerous sugar camps, rising lazily among the mountains, gave great effect to the varying landscape; and the grotesque log cabins, that here and there opened from the woods, were diminished into mere doghouses by the sublimity of the impending mountains. If hills, whose irregular summits are seldom more than three you suppose to yourself two parallel ranges of forest-covered or four miles apart, winding through an immense extent of country, and enclosing a river half a mile wide, which alternately washes the steep declivity on one side, and leaves a rich forest-clad bottom on the other, of a mile or so in breadth, you will have a pretty correct idea of the appearance of the Ohio. The banks of these rich flats are from

twenty to sixty and eighty feet high; and even these last were within a few feet of being overflowed in December, 1808."

The great

We postpone all detailed criticism of Hetherington's elegant and interesting biography of Wilson, and also of his writings, until the four volumes of which this work is to

"The bird which I am about to describe was taken in this situation, and presented to me by a friend. I kept it in the room beside me for some time, during which its usual position was such as I have given it. Its eyelids were either half shut, or slowly and alternately opening and shutting, as if suffering from the glare of day; but no sooner and animated; its full and globular eyes shone like those of was the sun set, than its whole appearance became lively a cat; and it often lowered its head, in the manner of a cock when preparing to fight, moving it from side to side, and also vertically, as if reconnoitring you with great sharpness. In flying through the room, it shifted from place to place with the silence of a spirit, (if I may be allowed the exand soft as to occasion little or no friction with the air,—a pression,) the plumage of its wings being so extremely fiue wise provision of nature, bestowed on the whole genus, to enable them, without giving alarm, to seize their prey in the night. For an hour or two in the eveuing, and about break of day, it flew about with great activity. When