the inhabitants. Nothing that wisdom has devised, or skill perfected, escapes them."

"It is a torrent," said the Genius, "of the Goths and Vandals. Unable to exist in their own barren country, they have left it to possess this delicious climate; and, assuredly, it has attractions to induce a conquest from a nation less in want, and less barbarous than these ravagers."

I continued to gaze intently on the scene, and I thought that ages passed away, leaving me in possession of every occurrence that had transpired in the lapse of time. Instead of industry there gradually prevailed remissness; instead of science, dullness; instead of ambition, apathy; instead of politeness, barbarism. All traces of civilization were at last obliterated, and a mist of ignorance overspread the land.

I now saw a deformed and morose phantom, stalking over every part of the country. Its face was gloomy as a cloud. Its eyes were suffused with film. Its hair and nails were exceedingly long; and it was clothed in filth and sackcloth. Its whole appearance was at once ridiculous and terrible. Joy and merriment ceased wheresoever it passed ;sullenness and despair accompanied its steps;—all nature seemed blighted by its presence. After wandering, for some time, about the land, and touching, in its progress, nearly all the inhabitants, whose dispositions it immediately changed, it came, as it were by chance, into the presence of a monarch who had rendered himself dreadful to his subjects by his cruelties, and fell down on its face before him. The Genius perceiving me turn to him with a look of inquiry, told me that the name of the phantom was Superstition. Superstition, you know," said he, "is the child of Ignorance. 'Tis also, as you will see, the parent of Cruelty, of Hatred, of Persecution, and of many other evils that afflict humanity. But let not your attention be diverted from the scene before you.'

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Methought the phantom swore obedience to the monarch, and promised to uphold his power. Why does the phantom," said I, "assist the monarch against his subjects?" "The phantom," replied the Genius, "is subservient to any one who is exempted from its terrors, in his designs against those who are influenced by them. Those only are exempted from the terrors of superstition who possess knowledge; and those only are influenced by them who are enslaved by ignorance."

I was much surprised at an edict, which the monarch at this time caused to be proclaimed, that all the books which remained in the country should be brought to him. The people, too, notwithstanding their subjection, could not refrain from expressing some astonishment at the proclamation. Being, however, informed by the phantom, which interested itself greatly on this occasion, that it was issued for their benefit, they forthwith acquiesced in the monarch's proclamation, and, without further opposition, deposited the books at the foot of the throne. The monarch, professing himself well pleased with the obedience of his subjects, graciously returned the books to them, retaining one only that had the appearance of great antiquity. This book he ordered to be translated into a foreign tongue; and then, telling his subjects he doubted they would not be able to understand it, without assistance, as it was very figurative and difficult, appointed, of his own accord, several

ministers to explain it to all those who felt any curiosity about its con

tents.

"What old book is that," said I, "which the monarch selected from those which were brought to him? What made him so eager to obtain it, and why is he so careful of its doctrines, and so anxious that the people should understand it thoroughly?"

"That book," replied the Genius, "is the Bible. The monarch appoints ministers to explain it, in order to give its doctrines a false interpretation. Were his subjects to read and understand it, they would speedily overturn his power. Had they read and understood it, the phantom had never been born."

Methought the monarch now increased prodigiously in power; and, usurping a throne of supernatural height, arrogated to himself universal dominion, and commanded the people to worship him as a God.— Methought he encircled his brows with a mitre, and declared that "infallibility" was his prerogative. At times, he scattered amongst his subjects scrolls of parchment according as they received or disobeyed his edicts. On some of the scrolls was written "Absolution;" on others, "Excommunication;"" Purgatory;" or, "Promises of future Happiness;" or, "Threats of Everlasting Misery."

"The monarch," said the Genius, "is the Pope; and the scrolls of parchment he has scattered, are his bulls. In the pride of his heart, he fancies himself the Vicegerent of Heaven, possessing unlimited, uncontrolled sway over the earth. His ministers are monks, who first pervert the meaning of the Bible, to serve the purposes of his ambition; and then practise cruelty, under pretence of piety, and make religion the vehicle of persecution, in order to their own aggrandizement. Base, sordid hypocrites! were they to escape damnation for their cruelty, their affected piety would plunge them into it."

I saw a phantom, at this time, make a low obeisance to some trifles which the monarch had collected, as I conceived, with a view to the entertainment of the multitude. These trifles were a bone, a phial, a drop of blood, a piece of wood crossed, a picture, a statue, with many other matters which my memory will not serve me to enumerate.

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"These things, which appear as trifles to you," remarked the Genius, are of the utmost importance to the monarch. Through them he pretends to work miracles; and deceives the people into a belief of his super-human authority. His resorting to these expedients, however, is a proof that he apprehends his power to be on the wane."

A short time after this, methought a man of great learning, wisdom, and integrity, happening to procure an old book, similar to that the monarch had seized upon with such avidity, perused it with extraordinary pleasure; and, finding that it enjoined duties of the highest nature, made several translations of it into the vulgar tongue, and circulated them amongst his countrymen. The people, perceiving that its doctrines were contrary to those taught by command of the monarch, and recollecting their ancestors' veneration for the book, began first to wonder at their own stupidity, and then to conclude that the monarch was a deceiver, and had assumed an improper authority over them. They lamented they had been so long deluded by him with promises which could not be performed; and terrified with threats

mere churlishness to withhold them;-his eyes sparkled, "Mais Mademoiselle Moi. Je n'appartiens pas a l'histoire !" He wrote his name, and presented it with a grace that would not have misbecome the best society of the best times of France.

We had some conversation on the subject of Bruce, but there he did not shine, being scarcely half willing to do justice to his enterprising and learned precursor; "Il á dit beaucoup des verités extraordinaires sans doute, mais aussi quelques mensonges." This, a little, disconcerted me; but when I pressed the matter, and inquired after les mensonges, supposing that unfair accusation was the detected offspring of ignorance and envy, and had been long silenced in confusion, he seemed to confine himself principally to the charge that Bruce had pretended to understand drawing; while, in fact, he employed an artist to execute the drawings, which he imposed on the public as his own. This, however, if proved, seems to resolve itself into a mere question of vanity; a foible which might, alas! be detected, lurking in one corner or other of the most exalted mind; but no doubt it appeared in double heinousness to Mons. Denon, because I suspect his graphic talents were his real forte. Whether he was the inventor, or only the great improver and encourager of lithography, the arts are on that sole account much indebted to him. It is supposed, that the Baron's personal researches in Egypt were not very extensive or fatiguing, and that he had been fortunate in his choice of agents.

LITERATURE OF THE MONTH.

THE ODD VOLUME.* Now, when the falling leaves and the lengthening nights whisper us to be looking about for such light intellectual provant as may sweeten and lend wings to the sombre hours of evening, we wonder if Washington Irving has any intention of treating us with a third volume of his Sketch Book, if Galt has another series of Mr. Duffle's Voyages and Travels in hand, or if Horace Smith has any intention of opening for Christmas exhibition, a new collection of Gaieties and Gravities? The question being put to ourselves, no answer can reasonably be expected; but, whatever may be in preparation here, we have something already in possession; and, whether followed by such successors or not, will make good its title to the appellation of "The Odd Volume."

The first oddity in limine is, that it is something odd, in an age when oddities are so rife, that a volume, which has no oddities about it at all, should haye taken a fancy to have itself christened the odd volume-but so it stands on the title-page. In a book of some 350 pages, and containing some sixteen or eighteen tales, English, Scotch, German, and Italian, it would be something odd if we could not squeeze out some entertainment; and still more odd, if having done so, we were afraid to tell the public as much.

In looking over the stories, so considerable a variety of style and execution is apparent, as to lead at once to the supposition that more pens than one

* Edinburgh, Lizars. Glasgow, Ogilvie. London, Whittaker, pp. 375.

have contributed; and report bears us out in this idea. That the authors are of the gentler sex, is also very apparent, from the tone of sentiment and feeling with which the different subjects are handled. This is most prominent in the three tales; "Emily Butler," which is a narrative of deep and unfortunate love, managed with considerable delicacy and pathos; "The Outpost," founded on an anecdote, bearing the stamp of truth, and intended to illustrate at once the barbarous situation of Hibernian manners, and the feudal bonds which still subsist between lord and vassal; and, "The Widow's Nuptials," a somewhat harrowing recital of the operation of unhallowed passion, meeting with virtuous resistance, long sustained, till borne down by the force of maternal affection; though ending at length in joyless decay, and an unhallowed death.

The translations from the German, which, allowing for the exaggerated state of northern continental feeling, possess very considerable interest-and the three stories, the "Miller of Doune," "Mynheer Dodimus Doolittle," and "Beware of what you say before Children," bear the impress of a more masculine intellect, and appear to have proceeded from the same pen; though, strange to say, the best story in the work, " Mynheer Dodimus," and the worst, "Beware of what you say before Children," are of the trio.

The fair writer will doubtless be a little surprised at the decision on the tale which winds up the volume; as, from its station there, and some passages of the writing, she certainly must have reckoned it one of the most forcible and effective. The incident on which the story hinges, is unquestionably horrible and striking; and, brought in episodically, must have passed with eclat in this age of strong emotion; but the circumstances, added to give effect, only operate as water, in diluting the strong essence of the anecdote; and throw over it an air of ridicule, conjoined with a feeling quite unpleasant and disagreeable. If French critics stigmatise Shakspeare for the barbarity of smothering Desdemona on the stage, what can be said, even by a rougher British critic, in defence of a minute and particular account of the atrocities committed at the incremation of an insane woman, whose broken thigh-bone rattles on each step of the prison stair as she is dragged down, and who is at last mercifully rendered senseless among the excruciating flames, by receiving on her head an immense stone, thrown by a horrified byestander.

We have said enough, and perhaps more than enough in censure; but, had the stories been more full of blemishes, one to pounce on, would not have appeared so prominent. We would fain give an extract from the "Miller of Doune," throughout which the olden Doric dialect of Scotland is admirably sustained; but find we cannot detach a passage with effect, without entering into the minutia of the story, the agreeable task of which we would rather leave to our readers, assuring them of very considerable amusement.

Of the other tales, which make up the volume, several of which contain considerable interest and entertainment, our limits preclude us from making particular mention; indeed they will be more or less relished, according to the taste of the reader. To conclude, we wish the fair writers every success in the walk of literature they have chosen. As to their elegant accomplishments, the translations from the German and Italian, and more especially the original music to which several lyrics in the book are set, allow only of one opinion being formed; though we admit they might have selected some more noted poets to illustrate, than Costello, or T. C. Smith, neither of whom are likely to be very familiar to the public.

Should they again think of presenting themselves at the bar of public favour, we would advise them, as true observers of society and manners, to adhere to their own deductions therefrom; and banish all novel-writing sentimentality from their pages. The late period of the month at which this interesting volume was received, as precluded us from giving some of the many favourable specimens we should otherwise have presented to the notice of our readers; but this omission shall be atoned for in our next publication.

THE MORAL CHARACTER OF LORD BYRON.* This pamphlet is a metaphysical inquiry into the moral character of Lord Byron, with many of the sentiments of which we entirely disagree. It would be unjust to withhold from the author our praise for the ingenuity of some of his arguments and the vividness of his perception; for he seems to have found morality in productions that could never have been intended to convey moral instruction to mankind. In this liberal spirit, he discovers that in Don Juan there is "a total freedom from grossness of sentiment and language." In his anxiety to promote the cause of morality, our author deplores the destruction of Lord Byron's autobiography, and calls poor Mr. Moore all kinds of uncivil names for having given the precious manuscript out of his possession; accusing him of baseness, treachery, and dishonour, faithlessness and ingratitude; as well as of having acted from paltry temporary considerations, in his concession to the friends of Lord Byron, as it regarded the posthumous production of which he was the depository. So far from sympathising with Mr. Simmons, in his rhapsodical invectives, we are of opinion, that Mr. Moore rendered an acceptable service, not only to Lord Byron's fame, but to society in general, in suppressing the noble poet's account of his own life, filled as it would seem to have been with personalities and indecencies, of the most disgusting description. To speak seriously, Mr. Simmons' pamphlet is a very flimsy and absurd attempt to inquire into the merits of a question which has long been decided. The Monody subjoined to the essay, contains some very pleasing lines, but is on the whole extremely rhapsodical and extravagant.

OLD ENGLISH PROVERBS, EXPLAINED AND ILLUSTRATED, BY WILLIAM CARPENTER. This small, but neatly printed volume, contains a selection of English proverbs, from Ray, Dyke, Bailey, &c., with illustrations of their meaning and applicability. The author of these comments does not however give his readers credit for quite as much intelligence as we conceive to be the average possessed by all decent people at this time of day, for he is sometimes at much pains to explain what needs no explanation at all. The book is, however, on the whole, both useful and pleasant; and is calculated to form an acceptable present to young people. It is a cheap and pretty publication.

THE POOR MAN'S FRIEND. This is a very useful and entertaining little brochure, and forms the best exposition of the almost incredible enormities of William Cobbett, we ever remember to have met with. There is scarcely an opinion on any subject of importance, in which the turn-coat of the Register has indulged, to which we are not here furnished with a counterpart. "Out of thine own mouth shalt thou be judged," would have formed an appropriate motto for this pamphlet, the author of which has rendered an acceptable service to the poor deluded creatures, who have been cajoled by this most inconsistent, shameless, and unprincipled of politicians. Those merchants and manufacturers who are in the habit of employing large numbers of the lower orders, would do well to circulate the "Poor Man's Friend" among their dependants. The exposure of old Cobbett's tricks is so complete, that it can hardly fail of producing a very sensible effect in the minds of his admirers, if any yet remain to him.

* An Inquiry into the Moral Character of Lord Byron. By J. W. Simmons. Cochran, pp. 98. + Old English Proverbs, Explained and Illustrated, by W. Carpenter, 24mo. Booth.

The Poor Man's Friend; or, the Companion of the Working Classes: being the system of moral and political philosophy, laid down by W. Cobbett. Stedman, pp. 32.