friend to purchase for her, on his next trip to France, a tea-pot of the particular composition called queen's-metal, unrivaled for its power of extracting the very quintessence of that vivifying leaf in which she rejoiced. My friend, always obliging and gallant, went to Exeter 'Change, paid half a guinea for a tea-pot, and then hastened to the Angel Inn, St. Clement's, and took possession of his place in the mailcoach, and all his trunks, and travelingbag, being already packed up in the boot, he put his tea-pot into what he facetiously called the slipper; that is to say, one of the pockets of the coach. My friend slept soundly till he arrived at Dover, where he took a hurried breakfast, having tried and proved the virtue of his tea-pot; and knowing the manufacture it was composed of to be prohibited in France, his fertile and contraband imagination soon devised an expedient for getting it through the custom-house of Calais.

Many specimens of sea-sick passengers have been from time to time served up for the public amusement; but never was one "so sick, so sad, so woe-begone," exhibited on the pier of Calais, in sad reality, as this gentleman on the day in question. He had the true tea-green hue of suffering on his cheek, and looked the very illustration of a breathing emetic, as he tottered out of the packet, tea-pot in hand. "Ah, ah, Monsieur est très malade?" inquired the keen and compassionate officer of customs, sharply eyeing my friend, as he spoke, quietly and cunningly feeling round his body with one hand, and taking hold of his tea-pot with the other. "Malude—sick—yes—oui-very malade, 'pon my life-d'ye hear, don't you seize that tea-pot, give me my tayère s'il vous plaitif you please, d'ye see.". "Ah! pas possible-c'est prohibée, Monsieur."

"Not possible!--the devil it isn't!-but you must give it me for all that, mon ami, unless you'd commit murder!-it is infected-poisoned-what d'ye think of that? It contains my ptisan-poisonous ptisan-arsenic, hellebore, and hemlock, mixed-death to any other man, life to me -'pon my life it's true-so now, give me the tea-pot like a good fellow-I faint for drink."" Ma foi, you say true, indeed!" cried the custom-house officer, in amphibious English. "You do live on poison, indeed-you are very ill-looking! Take your tayère, and drink your poison; 'tis trop vrai, I see."-" Looking very ill, you spooney," cried my friend; "don't you know the difference, and be damned

to you!" And he walked off without any fear of the officer going the same way that he did.

Well-the baggage was hurried through the custom-house, the places were secured in the diligence-my friend in his seatthe tea-pot carefully deposited in the sidepocket-and opposite to our traveller was another, a French gentleman, who had also come down from London in the Dover mail, and had been busily employed on the road, taking notes (of admiration or interrogation, no doubt) in a little common-place-book. Arrived the next evening at Paris, coaches were to be again exchanged, and my friend was soon transplanted into the Versailles stage, with his old companions, the French note-taker and the metal tea-pot, for which he really began to conceive a sort of traveling affection. When the coach stopped at the door of his female friend, he got out, teapot once more in hand, made his adieux to his fellow-travelers, his salutation to his fair hostess, delivered the treasure into her keeping, told the arsenic artifice by which he eluded the Calais customs; took copious cups of the bright beverage, di stilled in his own alembic; went back to Paris, laid in a rich store of whim and comicality, and soon after arrived in London.

Three years passed over the head of my friend, touching it as lightly, and polishing it as gently, as the hand of his spinster acquaintance polished and preserved the uninjured surface of the memorable tea-pot, which was long since banished from his memory. About the expiration of that period, my friend went to dine by invitation at the house of a friend of his. He arrived somewhat beyond the time appointed, and even after the extra half-hour which prescription allows as a privilege of the cook. Eight or ten persons were assembled in the drawing-room. My friend entered, paused a moment on the outside, to make those little irresistible (and I might add, after all, imperceptible) adjustments of wristbands, collar, and side-curls, which not one man in a hundred ever enters a drawing-room without stopping to make. No sooner had he followed into the room the servant's announcement of his name, than a tall, black-haired, whiskered personage, rushed between him and the hostess, and, with most vehement exclamations, half French and half English, seised my friend in his brawny arms, and hugged him almost to suffocation. "Ah,

You may fancy the surprise of the lady of the house, and her husband, and the other guests but it would puzzle a poet to imagine that of my imprisoned and astonished friend. He struggled, kicked, and plunged, in vain efforts to extricate himself from his strong-armed and warmhearted assailant. He answered every embrace by a jerk, and every exclamation by an oath. He lost all observance of manner and temper, and loudly called on his host to give him protection. This gentleman, paralysed by astonishment and convulsed with laughter, only added to the vexation of my irritated friend. The loud bursts of merriment irresistibly excited in the whole party of lookers-on, was a proper accompaniment to the comicality of the situation, and the dialogue between the chief actors thus went on. "What the deuce do you mean, I say Pon my life and soul, this is too bad who the devil are you? Let me go, do then!""Ah, you do not remember?" -"Never saw you before in all my born days?""Vous me never see before, never! I who went before you from London to Dover, from Calais to Paris, and from Paris to Versailles! Que je suis charmé de vous rencontrer!”"Damn your rencontre-take your black whisker out of my mouth, and be cursed to you; do-or, 'pon my life and soul!"" De tayére!-de tea-pot! You not remember-"-"The fellow's mad, stark mad! he's squeezing me to death 'pon my life, he is!"-" My God! What I have suffered on your account!""What I do suffer on your account!"-" Mon Dieu, mon Dieu! my principle called in question?" "Your due your due! Are you not taking it back with interest, and be damned to you? 'Pon my life now-" "My honneur, my reputation is in your hands!"" My life is in your arms. Let me go, do!"—" Will you go to Paris, den? Will you avow yourself de gentleman of de tea-pot? Will you save my honneur ?"-"Will you spare my life, I say? Let me loose, and I'll go any, every where." "You will?"-"I will."-"Go den," cried the Frenchman, loosening his hold." And be damned to you!" added my friend, re-adjusting his neck-cloth, cravat, and curls.

A hurried explanation solved the enigma. The Frenchman' was no other than the note-taking personage who traveled with my friend. He had passed a couple of months in this country at the time, and on his return to Paris had given a flimsy book to the public, called "Travels in England." Amongst other absurd traits of character, he asserted that Englishmen were so fond of tea, that they not only lived on it at home, but often traveled from one end of Europe to the other," tea-pot in hand. For this the unfortunate author was criticised, quizzed, and laughed at in all the Paris papers, and his book scouted for this one absurdity." He, however, believed what he had asserted from the single instance of his own observation, and he thus exemplified the folly of hasty conclusions, jumped at from false premises. He was almost driven to madness by that severest test of all philosophy, but, most of all, French philosophy; and his joy knew no bounds at his recognition of the original and unconscious cause of his discomfiture. He explained his grievance, and demanded, as an act of common justice at the hands of my friend, a full avowal in all the journals of Europe of the singular truth of his assertions; but, being alive to reason as well as ridicule, he was, after some time, persuaded to abandon his request, and convinced that even the justification he sought would not be sufficient to disprove our homely proverb, that " one swallow does not make a summer."

SHORT CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS.

Life and Times of Archbishop Laud,_by John Parker Lawson, A.M. When Dr. Laud was placed at the head of the church, the times were critical, and danger seemed to impend over the church and monarchy. The storm had not yet broken out; but the tyrannical measures of the first Charles (who then ruled without a parliament), and the oppressive treatment of the puritans, or protestant dissenters, had excited general discontent in a nation which then aspired to liberty. The archbishop rendered himself particularly obnoxious to the people, not only by the severity and the occasional cruelty which he exercised toward the sect, but by the unconstitu tional advice which he gave in the ca

binet. Dr. Johnson affirms, that "learning led him to the block;" but the fact is, that neither his own learning, nor his promotion of it in others, occasioned or hastened his melancholy fate. He was put to death by the presbyterian party for his persecuting spirit and his hostility to freedom." That he died a martyr for the church of England (says Mr. Lawson) no man can have the slightest doubt."Many, however, may reasonably doubt this assertion, and may allege that he no more fell a martyr for the church than the earl of Strafford, of whose arbitrary administration he was the chief supporter. The fairest conclusion, in this case, seems to be, that his conduct in the church, and his share in the political government, were concurrent causes of his ruin, while the former made a stronger impression on the feelings of his Calvinistic opponents.

Mr. Lawson is too partial to his hero, if we may so call the archbishop: but that is the usual failing of those who deal in particular rather than in general biography. His reflections are sometimes pertinent and just; at other times he argues loosely and declaims unreasonably. He represents the moderation of archbishop Abbot as the chief cause of the misfortunes which befell the church. "That his laxity of government in the archiepiscopal see, and his public patronage of the puritan faction, tended to the overthrow of the church, cannot be questioned; his government, in truth, entailed on his successor a series of misfortunes. Had Abbot prosecuted the measures adopted by Whitgift and Bancroft; had he zealously drawn the line of demarcation between the church and the sectaries, and had he made it an invariable rule to admit none into the church, of whose attachment he was not well assured, it would have made head against all its adversaries, and, under the government of Laud, it would have presented to its factious enemies an impenetrable phalanx, which they might perhaps have assailed, but assailed in vain."

These observations have a plausible air; yet we firmly believe that, if Abbot had been as strict a disciplinarian as Laud, his severity would not have materially checked the rising zeal either of religious or political freedom.

Sermons, by the hon. Gerard T. Noel, M.A. This divine is a well-known popular preacher, who officiates as curate of Richmond, and occasionally fills a metro

politan pulpit. He is one of the selfstyled Evangelical ministers, who consider the generality of the clergy as not sufficiently acquainted with the true nature of the Gospel, and not over-zealous in its predication; who stigmatise, as very imperfect Christians, all who prefer virtue to vice, if they do not talk, on every occasion, of faith and grace. Some of the zealots, indeed, are unwilling to allow that these performers of good works can justly be called Christians; but Mr. Noel is rather more candid. He says, "They admit the mercy of God, in sending his blessed Son to be a sacrifice for iniquity, and, by his obedience unto death, to procure for offenders the possible remission of their sins. They honor him as a divine being, and look for the succour of his holy spirit, to aid them, in part, against the operative influence of evil. But they add, to this religious system, an opinion which mars the beauty and destroys the value of the partial truth which they receive. They imagine that, since Christ has died for sin, since the merits of his sacrifice, and the voice of his intercession, are all-prevalent with God, the divine Being will relax the rigor of his law in their behalf; that, looking upon the work of Christ on one hand, and on their frailty on the other, he will be satisfied with the requisition of a mitigated commandment, and accept a sincere instead of a perfect obedience at their hands. If they violate, habitually, no striking obligation of social life; if they are, upon the whole, sober, just, honorable, and benevolent; if they reverence the outward forms of religion: they securely cast themselves upon the divine goodness, and look on the merits of Jesus Christ, as ready to make up the deficiency in what may be the requisite amount of their moral worth. This is, I fear, a view of the Gospel widely prevalent among all classes; and it contains so much plausibility, that the errors by which it is maintained are the more difficult of detection. Yet does this opinion, in its actual operation, undermine the whole fabric of revealed truth, dishonor the purity of God, and derogate from the glory of God. If God can now accept what is very improperly called sincere obedience, in the place of perfect obedience, then has Christ's death become, in its effect, an inducement to sin, a relaxation of the authority of God, a dishonor put upon his righteous government, a licence to contemn his law. If

men are to be accepted upon the joint ground of their good deeds and Christ's merits, confusion is introduced into the whole scheme of revealed religion: then 'work is no more work;' and 'grace is no more grace;' the all-sufficiency of the Redeemer is made void, and he submitted to humiliation, to reproach, to agony, to death, only that man might still boast before his God, and plead the sincerity of his desires, in mitigation of the pollution of his practice."

To this subject the following remarks of Mr. Lawson are not inapplicable, though Mr. Noel may be disposed to consider them as unfair and illiberal."In the present day, if a Christian be inclined to reason calmly and rationally, he is immediately branded by the visionary zealots of Evangelism, as being irreligious and careless-a moralist; if he does not incessantly talk about election, faith, and the total wretchedness of man, he is called unsound, Pelagian, or Arminian; if he does not patronise all the fanaticism exhibited at Missionary and other meetings (excellent, doubtless, in themselves, if rightly conducted), where men meet merely to sound each other's praise, to pay fulsome compliments, to talk bombastic jargon, and to be seen of men,' immediately he is traduced, as caring not for the soul, as being unregenerated, and still in trespasses and sins. And, if he be a minister of the church, how unfortunate is his case! He is calumniated every where, as caring for 'none of these things.' And to such an improvement has the age attained in these weighty matters, that the very women have set themselves up as judges and critics in matters of religious controversy: and he only is accounted the gospel minister who whines about them, and flatters them with compliments on their spiritual perfection."

As we ought in our critical capacity to say a few words of the composition of Mr. Noel's discourses, we are ready to admit that they do not reflect discredit on his academical education. The arrangement is methodical without formality; the style is neat, and not deformed by frequent or gross inaccuracy; and the preacher, in the earnestness of his zeal, sometimes rises to the dignity of eloquence. That zeal, we frankly tell him, outruns in some instances the coolness of discretion; but, as we have no doubt that it arises from conscientious convict ion, we cannot blame it with asperity.

Hermes Britannicus.-This is an attempt to prove that the Egyptian Thoth, the Roman Mercury, and the Celtic Teutates, were one and the same deity. If this be true, of what use is the information? We only mention it for the purpose of animadverting on the folly of investigating points which are unimportant in themselves, and cannot at this distance of time be ascertained. The author, who is the poet Bowles, deduces the Druidical religion from the East; and the Celts, who brought it with them, appear indeed to have emigrated from Asia; but it is useless to dwell on reveries of this kind.

Letters of an Architect from France, Italy, and Greece. 2 vols. 4to.-This is a work of considerable merit, and its details are apparently accurate. The three grand styles of building-Greek, Roman, and Gothic-are well discriminated and skilfully analysed. The author, Mr. Wood, prefers the Gothic style for churches.-"Some buildings (he says) are calculated to excite emotions favor. able to religious impressions, to produce a serious frame of mind, and one in which we are more inclined to acknowlege the present existence of superior power, and more ready to submit to the influence of this conviction. Mankind in general, at least in France and England, are dull and sluggish in the affairs of religion; they find it difficult to detach their thoughts sufficiently from worldly affairs. It is desirable, therefore, that every help should be given them; for, in this as in every other good object, human means are to be used, when they are put within our reach. A place of worship should, therefore, in the first place, possess in its style and decoration a

decidedly-different appearance from a common dwelling-house; this tends to break the associations with the every-day employments of life, and gradually to form new associations with the objects of religion, which become of considerable importance in the government of the attention. A merchant, on entering his counting-house, is more strongly led to think of ships and commerce, than on coming into a dining-room. Secondly, a place of worship should possess a decided character of power and sublimity: if, from the condition of our nature, any style of building is calculated to induce serious feelings, that style is fitted for a church. In the third place, if any style be already connected in our imagination