she whispered. Let the spirit depart, if such be His holy will, in the blessedness of infant innocence.

the unwilling inmate of Heathcote's dwelling,) respect ing the fate of the prisoners. The latter insisted upon sa ving them; and as his warriors had made the capture, Why do Mark and Martha stay?' continued the other, Metacom could not resist his will." The allies separated woods; the heathen may be out of their towns, and one "It is not safe, thou knowest, mother, to wander far in the in disgust, and their quarrel saved the settlement. The cannot say what evil chance might happen to the indiscreet. appearance of the beautiful creature, with whose picture "A groan struggled from the chest of Contents and the we last week presented our readers, explained Conan-muscular hand of Dudley compressed itself on the shoulder chet's interest in the captives. She was the daughter of of his wife, until the breathlessly-attentive woman with Ruth, and the wife of the Sachem. It was only, how drew, unconsciously, with pain. ever, the body of her child that the afflicted mother reI've said as much to Mark, for he doth not always gained the soul was that of an Indian. remember thy warnings, mother; and those children do so do not chide him if he stray too far-mother, thou wilt noter love to wander together! But Mark is in common good;45 chide?' "The youth turned his head, for even at that moment the pride of young manhood prompted him to conceal his "Hast prayed to-day, my daughter?" said Ruth, strug gling to be composed. Thou shouldst not forget thy duty

weakness.

woods."
to His blessed name, even though we are houseless in the
we i sdt taft bunot exv
"I will pray now, mother,' said the creature of this
mysterious hallucination, struggling to bow her face sintof
the lap of Ruth. Her wish was indulged, and for a mi
nute the same low, childish voice was heard distinctly re
of life. Feeble as were the sounds, none of their
peating the words of a prayer adapted to the earliest period
fons escaped the listeret, until near the close; when a spe

While Ruth endeavoured to re-awaken in her child the memory of her infant years, Conanchet held converse with the stranger, who proved to be one of the fugitive judges of Charles I. on the rock where he had built his solitary cyry. The result of their communing was a journey in search of Metacom, with a view to win him to terms of peace. They encountered him, and he led them to the spot where he was lurking with a few followers. The appeals made to him by the white man were in vain; they elicited nothing but cutting sarcasms. The conversation was interrupted by the sound of musketry. A disaffected warrior of Metacom had betrayed the secret of his lurking place, and led thither a body of Europeans and Pequods, a tribe of natives in alliance with the colonists. Metacom, after dashing out the brains of the trai-cies of holy calm seemed to absorb the utterance. Ruthed tor, retreated after his followers. Conanchet and the Englishman, endeavouring to retreat in another direction, were discovered and fired upon, but without effect. The allied Indians were, however, on their track, and the European was old and stiff. The generous Indian bore him to a hiding-place, then exposed himself to the view of the pursuers, and thus drew the chase upon himself. His strength failing, and his gun being unloaded, he turned to meet death like a chief, and allowed his enemies to seize him without a struggle. He fell into the hands of an hereditary enemy. The captive asked only one favour leave to revisit his wife, and if that were permit ted, he promised to return to die. His request was granted; he departed; found means to lure his beloved one from her father's house, and led her into the forest, where they might take their last farewell. plished, he returned and met his death. The relatives of the European bud which had blossomed in an Indian wigwam, seeking the fugitive, found her senseless on the body of her husband. There is something which to us is inexpressibly touching in the manner in which her fevered aberrations lead her back to childhood:

This accom

The divine then lifted up his voice, under the arches of the forest, in an ardent, pious, and eloquent petition. Whert this solemn daty was performed, attention was again be stowed on the sufferer. To the surprise of all, it was found that the blood, had revisited her face, and that her radiant eyes, were lighted with an expression of brightness and peace. She even motioned to be raised, in order that those round her person might be better seen.

R

raised the form of her child, and saw that the features borevit
the placid look of a sleeping infant. Life played upon them a
as the flickering light lingers on the dying torch, Her
dove-like eyes looked up into the face of Ruth, and the an-
guish of the mother was alleviated by a smile of intelligence
and love. The full and sweet organs rolled from face to
On Whittal they became perplexed and doubtful; but when
face, recognition and pleasure accompanying each change.
they met the fixed, frowning, and still commanding eye of T
the dead chief, their wandering ceased for ever. There was
a minute during which fear, doubt, wildness, and early re
collections, struggled for the mastery. The hands of Narra-'
Mattah trembled, and she clung convulsively to the robe of
Ruth.
many conflicting emotions, I will pray again an evil f
"Mother, mother!' whispered the agitated victim of so
spirit besets me Pr

"Ruth felt the force of her grasp, and heard the breath?
ing of a few words of petition, after which the voice was
mute, and the hands relaxed their hold. When the face of
the nearly insensible parent was withdrawn, the dead ap-..
peared to gaze each other with a mysterious unearthly
his hour of pride,-haughty, unyielding, and filled with defe
intelligence. The look of the Narraganset was still, as in
fiance; while that of the creature which had so long lived
in his kindness was perplexed, timid, but not without a
character of hope,”an qash but

Long years after these events, a traveller found, in the v valley where they had occurred, a rude stone, on which was engraven "The Narraganset" and nigh it one, more than half o'ergrown with moss, bearing the inscription "The Wept of Wish-ton-Wish !": monë ka eserly wirang Dost know us? asked the trembling Ruth. Look that the Borderers consists properly of two tales, which t It will appear, even from this unsatisfactory abstract,en on thy friends, long-mourned and much-suffering daugh-" ter! Tis she who sorrowed over thy infant afflictions, who are respectively wound up, the first by the Catastrophe: rejoiced in thy childish happiness, and who hath so bitterly of the Indian Siege-the second by the Death of the wept thy loss, that craveth the boon. In this awful mo- Narraganset Chief, The historical romance is, it is true, ment recall, the lessons of youth. Surely, surely, the God such a slip-shod lawless style of composition, that this that bestowed thee in mercy, though he hath led thee on a wonderful and inscrutable path, will not desert thee at peccadillo. As the author has, however, seen fit to pre mere want of unity might of itself be esteemed a trifling the end! Think of thy early instruction, child of my love; feeble of spirit as thou art, the seed may yet quicken, though face either half with one of those prefatory descriptions" it hath been cast where the glory of the promise hath so of the social condition of the heroes, which begin to be long been hid.gallive only katavari na biniy recognised as the legitimate proemiums of all such works, Mother! said a low struggling voice in reply. The the break makes the story drag almost as tediously as word reached every ear, and it caused a general and breath-Virgil's broken-backed serpent. Moreover, the escape of less attention, The sound was soft and low; perhaps in the Heathcote family from the flames, is an incident fantile; but it was uttered without accent, and clearly. Mother, why are we in the forest?' continued the bable to admit of its being used in works of fiction, which i within the range of possibility, but not sufficiently pro-vind speaker. Hath any one robbed us of our home, that we dwell beneath the treas ?" home, that we ought always to compensate for their want of essential "Ruth raised a hand imploringly, for none to interrupt verity, by a stricter adherence to verisimilitude. Lastly, the illusion pgkin ada 1 we think that we have occasionally caught Mr Cooper Nature hath revived the recollections of her youth, repeating himself in this work. His incessant compari

274

66

THE EDINBURGH LITERARY JOURNAL, OR,

sons of the Indians to "pieces of dark statuary,”—the streams of fire" which he throws out whenever a gun is fired, and some other pet phrases, come across our ear with a dreary consciousness of old acquaintance. The improbable escape of the Heathcotes, too, is an old stage trick, which we find repeated in more than one of his works, for the purpose of preserving a useful agent; and the Esculapins of Wish-ton-Wish is what an Irishman would call a resurrection of the botanical hero of the Prairie in an earlier age, as that worthy was, in his turn, but the reanimated dry bones of Dr Sitgreave,

efforts.

These are the faults which we have to find with Mr Cooper's new work; and some of them are so inseparably interwoven with the very texture of the story, that they force us to pronounce it one of his less successful At the same time, it is but justice to remark, that many ny passages are worthy of the author. The spectral appearances of the old regicide, sure prognostics of impending danger, and the mystery which wraps him to the end, are finely conceived. Narra-mattah, the Indianised daughter of Content Heathcote, is one of the most lovely, fairy-like creations we have met with. The high religious feeling with which the principal actors are imbued, is worthy of those stubborn, but conscientious enthusiasts, who stamped upon American society that character of persevering enterprise, from which her greatness takes its rise. The humour, too, in the lighter passages, is softer, more chastened, and with none of that tendency to something strongly resembling vulgarity, which disfigured some of the author's earlier works.

The Literary Souvenir. Edited by Alaric A. Watts. London, Longman, Rees, Orme, and Co. 1830. 12mo, pp. 364.

A NUMBER of people ridicule young ladies and gentlemen for keeping albums. We do not approve of this ridicule. An album is commonly the repository of certain pretty things in prose and verse, and however silly the selections may occasionally be, its unquestionable tendency is to refine the taste and soften the manners of its owner. An album is no doubt but a very small step in the belles lettres, but it is better than a monkey, a lap-dog, a black boy, or a peeroquet. On the same principle, though books bound in green and gold do not always contain the most strengthening intellectual food, they nevertheless put many people in the way of eating a little who would not otherwise touch a morsel. For this reason, therefore, we intend patronizing, more or less, the whole of the sixteen annuals for 1830; and we begin with the Souvenir, because, to confess the truth, it is, and has always been, our favourite. At present six annuals lie on our table, the first of the species for 1830 which have

crossed the Tweed; and all we intend doing to-day is to give our readers a rapid coup-d'œil of the contents of each. Ere long we shall write one of the most dreamy and delightful articles about the whole of them that was ever penned.

Thou ask'st a fearful spell! anaw sygele lewe
Yet say, from shrine or dim sepulchral hall red
What kingly vision shall obey thy call?
The deep grave knows it, welis An strizab sia • 1
es Is *£ 7**

« Wouldst thou behold earth's Conquerors? Shall they

passa

*2501 Vhe JOSKED SEMA! Laband, SE

Before thee, flushing all the Magic Glass
With triumph's long array ?—
Speak! and those dwellers of the marble urn,
Robed for the feast of victory, shall return, vi tale
As on their proudest day.

"Or, wouldst thou look upon the lords of song? ***.**
O'er the dark mirror that immortal throng...
Shall waft a solemn gleam!

Passing with lighted eyes and radiant brows,
Under the foliage of green laurel boughs,
But silent as a dream.'

Mrs Mary Howitt is another female writer, who, weobserve, contributes largely to the forthcoming annuals, and who, we think, has of late improved so much, that we are almost inclined to rank her next to Mrs Hemans: "The Sale of the Pet Lamb," and "The Faery Oath," both by her, in the Souvenir, are very favourable specimens of have also a great regard; we are not sure, however, that her abilities. Caroline Bowles is a poetess for whom we

The Dying Mother to her Infant," her only contribution to the Souvenir, is one of her most successful efforts. The Souvenir now before us, which is the sixth of its The Hon. Mrs Norton has of late distinguished herself race, opens with a very pretty prose tale, by Grattan, the not a little as a worshipper of the Muses. The verses by author of "High Ways and By Ways," entitled, "The her, entitled, "Bring back the Chain," are striking and Love Draught," which is followed by upwards of seven-improving greatly, but there is no need for it, seeing she spirited. Miss Jewsbury cannot perhaps be said to be ty original pieces in prose and verse. Of these many are contributed by authors of much respectability, though none, perhaps, by authors of the very highest eminence, unless we except Mrs Hemans. The volume contains three of her poems, all of which are beautiful. As a spe

cimen, we select the one we like most:

ing Bird at Sea" bears testimony to the power she pos is already well known as a clever writer; and the "Singsesses over the chords of the lyre. Miss Mitford, who is good both in prose and verse, has also lent her aid. There is a poem by Joanna Baillie "To Mrs Siddons," illustra

tive of one of the embellishments, which we should have quoted, had it not been merely a reprint from a voluite of poems edited by that lady. It is full of that fine unaffected vigour of thought and sentiment which keeps Miss Baillie still at the top of our list of female writers. 9. K. Hervey has contributed two poems, biron asi. Titania," and "Inez;" they are both sweet and tasteful,

Friendship's Offering; a Literary Album, and Christmas and New Year's Present, for 1830. London. Smith, Elder, & Co. 1830. 12mo, pp. 384.

MR PRINGLE, the Editor of Friendship's Offering, which is the second oldest of all the Annuals, the Forget-me-Not, which started in 1823, being the oldest,-informs us, that since Allan Cunningham's Anniversary is off the field, he is desirous of making his work more decidedly Scottish in character than any of its competitors. This is of itself a circumstance sufficient to make it favourably received on this side of the Tweed, independent of the fact, that, in point of embellishment, none of the Annuals surpass the Friendship's Offering; while, in point of literary contents, it need scarcely fear a comparison with the best. Besides most of the authors we have already mentioned, we find contributions in this work, both in prose and verse, from the amiable Editor himself,-William Kennedy, whose healthy manly style we alway's recognise with pleasure,— Henry Mackenzie, whose classical pen we feared had been laid aside for ever,—and the very clever and always amusing" Authors of the Odd Volume." All these are of the "North Countrie," and afford no mean accession of strength to the work. We can find room just now for only the following spirited lines:

Being at proserit so circumstanced, as to prevent me from writing Recen I think of what will be in Thirty Years

any thing expressly for your very beautiful and interesting work,

they mulet," I place at your disposal some fines, which, thoughest

deserve little notice, were written at an age and on an occasion that may, perhaps, disarm criticism. TASCHWERA DO Mavens My dear Sir,

O'er the smooth white of an ample brown of T
Will lie frequent tracks of Time's rusty plough :
The rose will fly from my sinking cheek,
My mellow tones will wax sharp and weak ;[
The limb, that seems turn'd in ivory,
Will sink like the branch of a blasted tree; **
And the faithful face of the looking-glass-ro
Will show but the phantom of what I was.
"Nor is it the worst, that a noble formed b£
Must yield up its core to the canker worm;
Other and darker change may come,
With dismal signs of a certain doom;
Age can fix its stern control

Over the heart and over the soul;

It can sweep the heart of its high-wrought feelings;
It can rob the soul of its bright revealings;
The hate, that roll'd like Hell's sulphur tide,
May to a stagnant pool subside;
The love that blazed, a celestial flame,
May wane to a glimmering of shame;
A wretched flicker, that guides to gold,
For which the dotard's peace is sold-
And the spirit-the spirit !—whose far-away flight
Mocks the tardy motion of light,
Which, by its own great impulse driven,

Roams free in the limitless walks of Heaven-
May quiver and fall like a butterflyjbeno matem
When a storm has blacken'd the summer sky,
A thing of pitiful hopes and fears, 11
Crush'd by the trample of Thirty Years,
"Thirty summers, past and gone,
Are crumpled by Memory into one;

Still doth thy screech-owl, Memory! hover
Around, and shriek, The best is over!'
The torch of the harpy years has tainted
The glorious banquet Fancy painted;
As a felon, whose day of Hope is done,
Who meets his farewell morning sun,

see that my sands will soon be flown,

While in life's cold hall I must watch alone,

With nought to remind me of bygone hours,
But dying torches and fading flowers,
And bread that hath polluted been,

said And fruit all rottenness within,

And wine that turns young smiles to tears→→→→
Such is the promise of Thirty Years."

い

This can scarcely be considered as a notice of Friendship's Offering. We shall do it more justice by and by.

66

there is, among other things, a delightful paper by Mrs
Barbauld, and one or two pictures of children enough to
make old men young again—sa full are they of life, na-
ture, happiness, and beauty. We also discover, among a
great deal of very pretty poetry, some verses by our own
Gertrude, already known to the readers of the LITE-
RARY JOURNAL, which we think not the least interesting
in the volume, though we say it who should not say it.
In Mrs Watts' New Year's Gift, we find things no
less delicious; but, instead of speaking of them, we shall
quote, in the first place, tight delal on pitend viant.
66 A PUZZLE, TN Tusenoly & ei siąja
“In which I give a few particulars of my own life and cha-
racter, but withhold my name,

19 con

"I shall not commence, like inost autobiographers, with an account of my birth, parentage, and education. "The first and second I have important reasons for cealing; and the third, education, was to me unnecessary. I was a natural genius,-my powers were all inmate. In my earliest infancy, I enlightened and improved more human beings than the wisest sages and profoundest philosophers ever hoped to do, in their fondest schemes for the be nefit of the human race.

"Do not suppose that I conceal my origin from false shame. On the contrary, I can outvie in antiquity the proudest prince on earth; and if the Chinese can prove that their first king, Puon-ku, reigned ninety-six millions of years before the Christian era, I can bring undeniable proof that I reigned before him.

"I am a great and rapid traveller. It is recorded, that Euchides, a citizen of Platea, walked to Delphi, and returned with the sacred fire, before sunset-having walked one hundred and twenty-five miles in one day. I performed the journey in less than half the time!

'I have heard of riding wagers,

Where horses have been nimbler than the sauds
That run i' th' clock's behalf.'

I have excelled them all! I visited America long before
Columbus was born. I have long ago anticipated Captain
Parry, in making the north-west passage to China;if he
had followed my
have found no interruption

from the ice.th, he

const can endure extremes-beat

and cold are alike indifferent to me; I have, therefore, gone farther into the interior of Africa than Park or Bowditch ever attempted. I have also crossed the Andes, with more ease and expedition than Captain Head.

"Some Irishman said, that no man could be in two places at once, barring he was a bird.' I can. I have been in more that two hundred places at the same tine!

"Do not think that I assume to myself an attribute of Deity. There are more than two thousand places where I

am not!

able events in history, sacred and profane.
"I have been an eye-witness of many of the most remark-

The Gem, a Literary Annual. London. W. Marshall. aidaisto vibelinsa organ 1830. We have just received the Gem, and have looked over it with much pleasure. It is evidently greatly superior to what it was last year, when it was edited by Thomas Hood. The present editor conceals his name, but we "I was present at those most sublime and awful periods, have reason to know that he is a young man of much pro--the Resurrection and Ascension. I was present with St esmise The embellishments are, for the most part, very bhappily chosen; and in the literary contents there is a freshness, and often a vigour, which we do not find so seconspicuous elsewhere. We observe, that in addition to the greater number of the names we have already mentioned, Horace Smith, John Malcolm, Miss Isabel Hill, William Jerdan, E. M. Fitzgerald, James Kenney, and others, are contributors, We shall gratify ourselves and our readers, by noticing the contents more fully as soon as we can command time; and we anticipate, that in the scale of the comparative merits of all the Annuals which we intend giving this year as we did last, the Gem will hold a high and respectable place.

The Juvenile Forget-me-Not. A Christmas and New
Year's Gift,
or Birthday Present, for the Year 1830.
Edited by Mrs S. C. Hall. London. N. Hailes.
Pp. 229. Hang Tahlen dus 03 45 to be
The New Year's Gift; and Juvenile Souvenir. Edited
by Mrs Alaric Watts. London. Longman, Rees,
Orme, and Co. 1830. Pp. 240,per viudt af ”
THESE are two as pretty books as a little boy or girl, or
young master or miss, could wish to have. In the first

Paul, at his conversion; and also when he made Felix
tremble. I accompanied Titus, the delight of mankind,'
in all his deeds of mercy, and was present when he gave up
of Mount Vesuvius. I was inseparable from King Alfred.
his property for the relief of the sufferers from an eruption
I witnessed the devoted affection of Queen Eleanor, who
sucked the poison from her husband's wound at the risk of
her own life. I was also at Calais, when Queen' Philippa
used her benevolent influence to preserve the lives of six ci-
tizens who had offered themselves to save their city.
Jew-You are mistaken. He was present at the Cruci-
"You have already guessed that I am the Wandering
fixion-I was not.

"It is my greatest glory, that I have seldom been present at outrageous deeds of sin and wickedness; indeed, my very presence is often sufficient to deter men from deeds of evil.

Plots, contrived with the greatest secresy, are sooner or later brought to me, and I am generally enabled to subvert them. racteristics, I may affirm that I have no dark side in my "As candour and sincerity are my distinguishing châown disposition or conduct.

I may also declare, without conceit, that I excel in painting; and that Raphael and Rubens were as much indebted to my instructions, as Reynolds and Lawrence have been in note, though I am well versed in the science of harmony. later times. I have no ear for music, nor can I produce a

"It is to the science of optics that I chiefly devote myself,