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in dispute is assumed as decided in Mr. Belsham's favour, so as to admit of no further argument. If the devil is mentioned, it is clear that St. Paul only alludes to an existing mythology,' (vol. iii. p. 18.) and gives no countenance to the doctrine of the existence of an evil spirit, although this is the very point in dispute; if he mentions heaven, it is clear he could not mean any actual place, because modern discoveries show that there are no concentric circles in the air.' vol. iii. p. 230. It is obvious that no reply can be offered to all this, for there is no argument to combat; but its place is supplied by the most astonishing hardihood and assurance of assertion. When no other artifice will avail, Mr. Belsham cessarily pronounces whatever militates against him to be a figure'! Christ's sacrifice uniformly-see Rom. iv. 24. Eph. ii. 2; the Spirit of God (Rom. ii. 26); Christ's headship of the church, Eph. i. 22; the principalities and powers in the heavenly places (iii. 2); Christ's ascension (iv. 10); the adoration of Christ by those who are in heaven and on earth and under the earth (Phil. ii. 9); Christ's being in the form of God (Phil. ii. 6); these and numberless other declarations of Scripture are all figures, and therefore of course will bear any meaning which Mr. Belsham may choose to put on them. It would be a mere waste of time to contest these points; indeed there are manifest symptoms through the whole performance of that increase of prejudice and credulous incredulity, which are the natural results of the strange habits of interpretation and reasoning to which Mr. Belsham has so long been accustomed. Notwithstanding this, we have thought his book deserving of some notice, as containing a formal enunciation of the theory of justification proposed by the Unitarians, and as proceeding from the person who is considered as the coryphæus of his party: but the extracts from his notes will show that if Mr. Belsham ever possessed any stores of argument or knowledge, they have utterly disappeared; and that their place is supplied by a repetition of the miserable crambe of former days; by assertions which no one admits, and abuse, which no one regards. We may pity his weakness, but we shall not waste our readers' time or our own, by any examination of his future criticisms.

ART. V. Travels through Sweden, Norway, and Finmark to the North Cape, in the Summer of 1820. By A. de Capell Brooke, M. A. London. 1823.

THE

HERE are certain prominent features on the earth's surface, and certain operations going on in the great laboratory beneath it, which have at all times attracted the attention of mankind, either as objects of scientific research, or of mere curiosity.

The pursuit of the former has usually proved, a source of delight to those who, like Saussure, Humboldt, and Park, have engaged in it, while the results have afforded instruction to others; but there is a class of travellers always ready to undertake the arduous task of toiling to the tops of mountains, or penetrating into the depths of caverns, for no better purpose than that of gratifying an idle humour, or of having to say, 'ed io anchè!' A traveller of this description generally meets with disappointment at his journey's end; and, though perhaps less candid to own it, will be very apt to feel, and exclaim, with Bruce, when he stood at the Fountains of the Nile, I find despondency gaining ground fast upon me, and blasting the crown of laurels I had too rashly woven for myself: I begin, in my sorrow, to treat, the inquiry about the source of the Nile, as a violent effort of a distempered fancy.'

We can, however, readily conceive the head of the Nile and the tail of the Niger, the summits of the Himalaya, and the Andes, of Teneriffe, Hecla, Ætna, and Vesuvius, to be objects of attraction, both for science and curiosity; but we confess it is beyond our comprehension how the sight of a bleak and barren promontory rising a few hundred feet out of a tempestuous ocean, merely because it happens to be accounted the northernmost point of Europe, should possess sufficient inducements to tempt any one to undergo the fatigue and peril of reaching it; especially since it has no longer the freshness of novelty to recommend it.* It is but justice, however, to add that the travels of Mr. de Capell Brooke to this bleak spot have been productive of a volume by no means destitute of interest or amusement, written with the feelings and in the style of a gentleman; and if it should be found to contain no new or important discoveries, nor boast much depth of research, it abounds at least in glowing, and, we have every reason to believe, faithful descriptions of the romantic scenery of Sweden and Norway, and in striking characteristic traits of their hardy peasantry. Were we inclined to hint a fault, it would be that of prolixity and a somewhat too credulous leaning to stories about krakens, sea-serpents, and antediluvian whales.

Taking up our traveller at Gottenburgh, we accompany him to the bleak and barren mountains which environ this city to the distance of about thirty miles: here the pine forests, which are said to cover nearly half the surface of Sweden, commence at a village named Lilla Edet, most romantically situated near the falls of the Gotha; in the neighbourhood of which its collected

To say nothing of the shipping which double, the Cape every year, it has been visited by several travellers. waters

waters precipitate themselves down the cataract of Trollhätta with fearful roarings, in four successive falls, the united height of which is about 110 feet. At this point, a canal, consisting of a series of lock's and sluices cut out of the solid rock, has been constructed with incredible labour and ingenuity; by means of which, an uninterrupted navigation is opened between the lake Venern, about forty miles farther on, and the North Sea. This lake is about 100 (Acerbi says 500) miles in length, and nearly as many in breadth. It washes the walls of Lidköping, which Mr. Brooke describes as delightfully situated amidst pleasing scenery; but he does not tell us whether the rains of the magnificent castle of Leckio still remain, with its well of 200 feet deep, hewn out of the solid rocka work, Olaus Magnus assures us, not executed with iron instruments alone, but by flame, which was daily fed with 300 of the fattest flitches of bacon, successively, day by day; for it is found, by experience, that nothing will sooner penetrate the hard rock there, than lard and hog's grease.'

The good bishop further informs us, that on the very top of the Tofty mountain Kindakulle, (which Mr. Brooke says rises from the waves of Venern, soars above every thing, and, in this degenerate age, is productive, we believe, of nothing but snow and stunted moss,) there are such pleasant boughs, herbs, and fruits of divers kinds (excepting the vine) that come up of themselves, not more rare than sweet, as if they were sowed or planted, that there scarce can be found a more delightful place in all the northern climates. There is a sweetness that cannot be related, and that is multiplied by the concert of divers birds, except the popinjay. That most pleasant place is known to very few, and they only old men; nor is it easily to be discovered to young people, lest, being released from more severe discipline, they should cast themselves down to all pleasures, and would hardly, or never, be reclaimed to good manners!'

The waters of the Malar, at the point of their junction with the Baltic, are said to give to the situation of Stockholm some resemblance to that of Venice: but the small rocky islands on which the former is built, the clear transparent river which runs through the heart of the city; the steep acclivity of the hills behind, on which houses seem to stand upon each other; the forests of pines which descend almost to the gates of the town, spotted with villas in every direction, must destroy at once any similarity between the two cities beyond that of being both intersected by water. Stockholm, like London, is deserted in the summer months, when the nobility and gentry take up their abode in the neighbouring villas, many of which, along the line of the Malar, are beautifully romantic.

Mr. Brooke observes that the Swedes have not only an extraordinary facility of acquiring languages, but also of speaking them; and illustrates his remark by saying that he met at Stockholm with young ladies, hardly out of their teens, who could speak five different languages with equal fluency; whilst our own countrymen, who are unquestionably the greatest travellers of any nation, can hardly make themselves understood in any foreign language. The remark is not new; nor is the fact itself (as far as it is admissible) difficult of explanation. A living language is most easily learnt in the years which follow infancy; these, in England, are generally employed in acquiring the rudiments of the dead languages, the study of which in after-years is found to oc cupy no inconsiderable portion of time; while the northern na↳ tions engage but little in the pursuit of classical literature. But there is another reason : the presses of Sweden, Denmark, and Russia supply so very few books in their own languages, that they are obliged to have recourse to those of England, France, and Germany ; which, being of more extensive use than their own, they find their advantage in learning.

The custom of taking the siesta in the middle of the day is not confined to the more southern latitudes; in Stockholm, every tradesman shuts up his shop from two till four, to enjoy his

repose.

An Englishman, who, of all men, is most on his legs, unacquainted with this way of getting through business in Stockholm, sets out at these hours to go what is called a shopping. He directs his steps to the principal street which the booksellers inhabit, and knocks at the · door of Mr. U,, which to his great surprise he finds completely closed, After trying in vain to obtain admission, he walks over the way to another, fancying, perhaps, some death in the family might have occasioned this sudden suspension of business. He finds the second,

however, the same; and should he go to a dozen, he would not be more fortunate. At that time of the day, which in London and other large cities is mostly distinguished for bustle and business, the streets of Stockholm are comparatively deserted, silent, and dismal, from the shutting up of the shops; and it is generally not till between four and five, that the shopkeeper again re-opens his sleeping shutters to admit the light, and his door to his customers. p, 35,

: It was here that Mr. Brooke set about his preparations for a journey to the North Cape. His first object was that of hiring a servant of all-work, and he soon met with one who promised to answer his purpose in the person of a dapper little fellow of the name of Jean, who had served in the wars with Napoleon, had been taken by the Cossacks, and sent into Siberia; who could speak six languages fluently, could shave and dress hair, deck a table, cook a dinner, drive a chaise-in a word, a perfect Swedish

La

La Fleur. With this person Mr. Brooke left Stockholm on the 19th of June, and plunged at once into the deep and gloomy pine forests, from which uot only the rays of the sun, but every breath of wind is excluded. .. Swarms of mosquitoes assail the traveller and his horses in these close and dismal shades; and the astrus tarandi, which is said to drive the Lapland rein-deer to the seacoasts, (a distance of several hundred miles,) to get rid of its attacks, was here equally ferocious, and followed them with the most persevering malignity,

: Extensive tracts of these forests had been consumed by fire, presenting, in the charcoal coating of the ruined trees, a most dreary and desolate appearance. These conflagrations are occa sioned by various causes, and are represented as very grand and terrific. Linnæus was caught in the midst of one, and escaped with no little peril. Mr. Brooke saw only their effects; but, with the help of the Swedish naturalist, he has given a description, which, as it may serve as a fair specimen of his style, we subjoin.

A peasant, after smoking, knocks out the ashes of his pipe ; for some hours they lie smothering and concealed; by and by the rising breeze fans them into life and flame, and the work of destruction is begun, Running through the moss, as dry and inflammable as tinder, the flame meets with a pine, and quick as lightning ascends it, assisted by its resinous juices. In this manner it spreads rapidly through the whole forest, which, crackling amid flame and smoke, presents a spectacle terrific and imposing. The distant traveller, ignorant of the cause, sees with astonishment the singular red appearance of the hori zon; and should he unfortunately have to pass through the burning forest, he will find it very difficult to avoid its threatening fury. Surrounded on all sides by falling trees, his path concealed by smoke and flame, he stands bewildered, uncertain whether to advance or retreat. If a breeze arise, the whole forest glows; a thousand loud explosions are heard around; and, should the gently refreshing shower descend, a loud hissing is heard, a dense smoke creeps along, and the smothering flames are for a moment repressed, only to burst out afresh with greater fury. The tenants of the forest, driven from their wild haunts hitherto undisturbed, flee before their irresistible enemy into parts before secure from their attacks; and bears and wolves, forced from their accustomed retreats toward the habitations of man, make desperate attacks upon the cattle of the peasants. Few spectacles can be conceived more fearfully sublime, than a conflagration of this kind in uninhabited parts of the north, to one who witnesses from the mountain top the progress of the flames, and the alteration so quickly made on the smiling face of nature, at the approach of the destroying element, pp. 4144.

The following is the description of a Swedish post-house.

--' At first sight it has every appearance of being uninhabited. After loudly

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