tailing with great minuteness what former travellers have omitted, correcting their errors, and extending their discoveries.

The work is accompanied by a volume of etchings of a very novel kind, but which have a very superior and striking effect. They are executed from drawings taken on the spot by major Hayes, who accompanied Mr. Hamilton in his travels, but whom a premature death has taken from the world. The tribute paid to this gentleman's memory in the pre

face is highly honourable to the writer and his lamented friend. There are other proofs in the work, if others were necessary, of the author's excellence in this branch of writing.

As this volume is denominated Part I. we are justified in expecting further gratification and instruction from Mr. Hamilton's manuscripts. We most sincerely wish him health and leisure to prosecute the literary labours he has thus successfully and honourably cominenced.

THE first edition of this very interesting and entertaining collection, was published by Mr. Evans, the father of the present editor, as a sort of supplement to the Reliques of ancient Poetry, by Dr. Percy. They first appeared in two volumes, but of this edition a very large impression was soon dispersed, and Mr. Evans was consequently induced to reprint and augment his work. In 1784, he published a collection of old Ballads, in four volumes; but this also was in such general requisition that it has been long of print, and was estimated among the rarities of the collections of old English poetry.

The former editor had introduced in his concluding volume a number of modern productions, from the masterly pens of Goldsmith, Gray, and others; and of the less spirited effusions of Jerningham, Blacklock, Mrs. Robinson, Helen Maria Williams, and others of this class. These appear to have been out of their proper place, and accordingly the editor of the present publication has omitted them, and in our opinion very judi

ciously, altogether. He has substituted in their place almost an entire volume, from the late duke of Roxburgh's extraordinary collection of ancient Ballads, from the Pepysian Library at Magdalen College, Cambridge, and from the contributions of his private friends, among whom he enumerates Mr. Todd, Mr. Douce, the late Mr. Baynes, and others.

The first volume exhibits nearly a hundred ancient poems, which are now first printed in this collection; and as the public taste has long demonstrated itself to be peculiarly partial to this branch of literature, we can have little hesitation in placing two or three specimens before them.

"I couched close to hear her moan,
With many a sigh and heavy groan,
And wisht that I had been the wight,
That might have bred her heart's delight,
But these were all the words that she,

Did still repeat, None loves like me.
Then round the meadows did she walk,
Catching each flower by the stalk,
Such as within the meadows grew,

As dead-man's thumb and hare-bell blue, And as she pluckt them, still cried she, Alas, there's none ere lov'd like me. "A bed therein she made to lie,

Of fine green things that grew fast by, Of poplars and of willow leaves,

Of sicamore and flaggy sheaves,
And as she pluckt them still cried she,
Alas, there's none ere lov'd like me.
"The little larkfoot she'd not pass,

Nor yet the flowers of three-leaved grass, With milkmaids honey-suckle's phrase,

The crow's-foot, nor the yellow crayse, And as she pluckt them, still cried she, Alas, there's none ere lov'd like me.

"The pretty daisy which doth show Her love to Phoebus bred her wo,

Who joys to see his cheerful face,

And mourns when he is not in place, Alack, alack, alack, quoth she,

There's none that ever loves like me. "The flowers of the sweetest scent,

She bound them round with knotted bent, And as she laid them still in bands,

She wept, she wail'd, and wrung her hands,

Alas, alas, alas, quoth she,

There's none that ever lov'd like me. "False man (quoth she), forgive thee hea

And thus begin to learn,
Not of the earth nor of the air,
At evening or at morn,

But jovial boys your Christmas keep
With the little barley-corn.

"It is the cunningest alchymist
That e'er was in the land,

"Twill change your mettle when it list, In turning of a hand.

Your blushing gold to silver wan,
Your silver into brass;
"Twill turn a taylor to a man,
And a man into an ass.
""Twill make a poor man rich to hang
A sign before his door,

And those that do the pitcher bang,

Though rich, 'twill make them poor, "Twill make the silliest poorest snake The king's great porter scorn; "Twill make the stoutest lubber weak, This little barley-corn.

"It has more shifts than Lamb e'er had Or Hocus-pocus too;

It will good fellows show more sport

Than Bankes his horse could do: "Twill play you fair above the board, Unless you take good heed,

And fell you, though you were a lord,
And justify the deed.

"It lends more years unto old age,

Than e'er was lent by nature; It makes the poet's fancy rage,

More than Castalian water. "Twill make a huntsman chase a fox, And never wind his horn; "Twill cheer a tinker in the stocks,

This little barley-corn.

"It is the only Will o' the Wisp

Which leads men from the way; "Twill make the tongue-tied lawyer lisp, And nought but hic-up say.

"Twill make the steward droop and stoop, His bill he then will scorn,

And at each post cast his reckoning up,
This little barley corn,
""Twill make a man grow jealous soon,
Whose pretty wife goes trim,
And rail at the deceiving moon

For making horns at him : "Twill make the maidens trimly dance, And take it in no scorn,

And help them to a friend by chance,
This little barley-corn.

"It is the neatest serving-man,

"The second Part of the little Barley-Corn, That cheareth the heart both evening and morne."

"If sickness comes this physick take,
It from your heart will set it,
If fear encroach, take more of it,
Your heart will soon forget it.
Apollo and the Muses nine

Do take it in no scorn,

There's no such stuff to pass the time
As the little barley-corn.

* "Twill make a weeping willow laugh,
And soon incline to pleasure;
Twill make an old man leave his staff,
And dance a youthful measure;
And though your clothes be ne'er so bad,
All ragged, rent, and torn,
Against the cold you may be clad
With little barley-corn.

""Twill make a coward not to shrink,
But be as stout as may be,
"Twill make a man that he shall think
That Joan's as good as my lady.
It will enrich the palest face,

And with rubies it adorn,
Yet you shall think it no disgrace,
This little barley-corn.

""Twill make your gossips merry,
When they their liquor see,
Hey, we shall ne'er be weary,
Sweet gossip's here to thee;
"Twill make the country yeoman
The courtier for to scorn;
And talk of law-suits o'er a cann
With this little barley-corn.

"It makes a man that cannot write

To make you large indentures,
When as he reeleth home at night,
Upon the watch he ventures;
He cares not for the candle-light,
That shineth in the horn,

Yet he will stumble the way aright This little barley corn. ""Twill make a miser prodigall,

And show himself kind hearted, "Twill make him never grieve at all That from his coin has parted, "Twill make the shepherd to mistake His sheep before a storm, "Till make the poet to excell,. This little barley-corn.

"It will make young lads to call Most freely for their liquor, 'Twill make a young lass take a fall And rise again the quicker: "Twill make a man that he

Shall sleep all night profoundly, And make a man, whate'er he be, Go about his business roundly. "Thus the barley-corn hath power, Even for to change our nature, And makes a shrew, within an hour, Prove a kind-hearted creature ; And therefore here, I say again,

Let no man take 't in scorn, That I the virtues do proclaim Of the little barley-corn."

We are much obliged to Mr. Evans, the present editor, for this publication, and we hope that the liberal spirit which he has evinced in republishing others of our collections, long become scarce and of enormous price, and more particularly Hackluyt, will meet with the remuneration it evidently merits. It should be observed, that the first volume does not alone contain the additional ballads and pieces of early poetry; others will be found dispersed through the remaining parts of the work, and are distinguished by a † prefixed.

THIS title, unfashionably long, explains sufficiently the intention of the work anne nced. It is a selection of

minor stories, which have been preserved by different writers, because they contained something striking,

either of fact or expression. As may well be supposed on a missionary subject, late years afford the greater part; for though in the days of antiquity the introduction of the gospel, might, and no doubt did, give occasion to many interesting facts, yet the memory of them has not been preserved. The first part exposes the absurd notions of heathen nations; and their abominable and destructive practices. This might have been greatly enlarged; but the author has principally had recourse to countries in which protestant missionaries have preach ed. The second part illustrates in a variety of instances the happy reformations effected by the gospel; beginning from the first century, and proceeding chronologically to the

nineteenth.

A collection of anecdotes related by different writers, offers many, though not all equally striking, pictures of the human race; sometimes of individuals only, sometimes of nations. There is

in the untutored intellects of some whom we call savage, a strength and acuteness, which cannot be beheld with indifference by the truly civilized mind;-when we add-nor by the truly Christianized mind; we do no more than acknowledge the better feelings of the best of men. What would those intellects be capable of, could they obtain instruction which too many among us disdain? let those judge, who can despise the soul that conceived the following reasonings.

A missionary being once in company with some baptized Greenlanders, expressed his wonder how they could formerly lead such a senseless life, void of all reflection. Upon this, one of them answered as follows: "It is true, we were ignorant heathens, and knew nothing of a God or a Saviour; and indeed who should tell us of him till you came? But thou must

not imagine that no Greenlander thinks about these things. I myself have often thought, a kajah (a canoe or boat), with all its tackle and implements, does not grow into existence of itself, but must be made by the labour and ingenuity of man; and one that does not understand it, would directly spoil it. Now, the meanest bird has far more skill displayed in its structure than the best kajah, and no man can make a bird. But there is still far great er art shown in the formation of a man, than of any other creature. Who was it that made him? I bethought me, he proceeded from his parents, and they from their parents. But some must have been the first parents; whence did they come? Common report informs me they grew out of the earth. But if so, why does it not still happen that men grow out of the earth? And from whence did this same earth itself, the sea, the sun, the moon, and stars arise into existence? Certainly there must be some Being who made all these things; a Being that always was, and can never cease to be. He must be inexpressibly more mighty, knowing, and He must be wise, than the wisest man. very good too, for every thing that he has Ah, did I but know him, how would I love made is good, useful, and necessary for us. him, and honour him! But who has seen him? Who has ever conversed with him? None of us poor men. Yet there may be men too, who know something of him. Oh, could I but speak with such? Therefore (said he), as soon as ever I heard you speak of this great Being, I believed it directly with all my heart, because I had so long desired to hear it."

This testimony was confirmed by the others, with more or fewer attendant circumstances. As, for instance, they superadded: "A man is made quite different from the beasts. The brutes have no understanding, but they serve for food to each other, and all for the use of man. But man has an intelligent soul, is subject to no creature in the world, and yet man is afraid of the future state. Who is it that he is afraid of there? There must be a great Spirit, that has the dominion over us. Oh, did we but know Him! Oh, had we but Him for our friend!"

AFTER a long passage we have arrived safely in the Tagus. The first part of our voyage proved very disagreeable, as we encountered a constant succession of calms or contrary winds. When off, cape Clear we met with a most violent storm. During three days of its continuance, the weather was more tempestuous than I ever before experienced; and we were obliged to lay to, until it abated. Our captain was himself in very considerable apprehension, and not being a man of remarkable strong nerves, was unable to disguise his fears. He tried however to gather as much courage as he could from his brandy bottle, to which he applied so often and so diligently that he became in a very short time completely drunk. This was, as may be supposed, a very agreeable circum

stance to us.

To add to the comfort of our situ. ation, on the third night, while the tempest was at its height, we were fired at by a French privateer. I was at the time taking the only peep I had ventured at for forty-eight

On board ship, September 10th. hours on deck, but on hearing the ball whiz by my ears, I prudently beat a retreat to my old quarters, which I did not immediately feel very anxious to quit. The privateer was prevented from coming along side of us by the violence of the storm. In the morning she was not in sight.

The weather at this time beginning to clear up, we determined to take vengeance on our drunken commander, and to give him a lesson which he might recollect on a similar occasion. We accordingly gave a preparation to the steward, directing him to infuse it in the captain's brandy bottle which stood in the cupboard, which orders he punctually put in execution. Soon after we saw the above-mentioned gentleman descend into the cabin for the purpose of taking a morning draught, to keep, as I suppose, the cold off his stomach. He first, however, as if he was unwilling to have any one witness to what he was about, cast his eyes round the cabin to see if we were asleep. Being satisfied in that particular, he applied the bottle to his lips, where he