II. 2.

Hark, in the palace halls, the lay,

Sung by the royal bard, is rising high;

The monarch's fingers o'er the harp-strings play,
And, like an angel's, fly.

Around celestial glory gleams,

All radiant with etherial beams

The dove-like Spirit lights upon the lyre,
And fills with life each conscious wire-

While echoing round, the dazzled chamber rings
With melodies that Gabriel sings,

When high in heaven the song ascends-
And o'er his golden harp th' adoring seraph bends.

II. 3.

Now-emerging from the wood

Wrapt in odors sweet and good,
Like the rose which Sharon rears,
Lo! a stately form appears-

While Spring unbinds the flood.
Before him fairest flowers are blowing,
On the air their incense throwing-
Loud the vocal groves are ringing,
See the budding fig-trees bloom--
Hark-the turtle-dove is singing,

And the vineyard yields perfume.
The bard with joy his holy lay prolongs,

Bids towering Salem's beauteous maids rejoice-
Warbles with tuneful tongue THE SONG OF SONGS,

And charms the list'ning mountains with his voice.

Nor far behind him comes a sainted sire,

His harp with rapture strung-his lips
New touched with liquid fire.t

III. 1.

Oh noblest of the reverend seers-

Oh, more than mortal bard—what power is thine!
What magic hath thy lyre divine,

That wakes to pure delight—or melts to tears.

To thee alone of men 'twas given

With mortal eyes to gaze on heaven

To see, when light unkindled shone,

The sceptered Thunderer's flaming throne

To view the Cherubim before

Their awful monarch bend-and veiled adore:

To know the homage angels pay

To hear their lofty praise, and imitate the lay.

* Descriptive of the Psalms.

↑ King Solomon's Canticles, the style of which it imitates.

Isaiah's prophecies. Isaiah was probably the most sublime of the Hebrew poets. The Uzzian bard is of course not reckoned among the Jewish prophets. See the circumstances to which the following strophe refers in Isaiah, VI. chapter, 1 verse, et seq.

III. 2.

Now he on whom thy mantle fell,*

Awed by the heavenly vision pours his prayer.
Shiggaion's notes prolong the lofty swell,
And this the praise they bear-

From Daran's Mount THE HOLY ONE
Came like the brightness of the Sun
Armed with his shining darts and spear,

The starry orbs were hushed with fear:

But hark-a plaintive voice declares at hand
The doomsday of a guilty land,

And sad his sighing words foretell

The woes on thee to fall-God-nurtured Israel!t

III. 3.

Far from Sion's holy hill,

Lo! the muse sedate and still,

Hangs upon the willow's bough

Her harp-once sweet but tuneless now—

And weeps o'er all her ill.

Her thoughts to distant Salem flying,

Sad she views in ruin lying

All the pride and towering glory

Of the home she loved so well, Juda's fields with carnage goryHinnom-made the vale of hell!

Alas! sad land-No more the muse shall tread

By cool Siloam stream, or Zion hill,

But mute she bends o'er heathen rills her head,

And weeps for thee; though lost-remembered still.

O'er her fair limbs is tattered sackcloth flung;

Hangs o'er her drooping head, her sorrowing lyre unstrung!

A. C. C.

Habbakuk, III. chapter.

† The Prophecies of Jeremiah.

The Babylonish Captivity.

!

CRITICAL NOTICES.

Crichton; by W. Harrison Ainsworth, Esq. In two Volumes. New-York; Harper and Brothers.

OUT of materials, evidently collected with great labor and research, the author of Rookwood has built up a novel of classic elegance and harmonious proportions. Indeed, so various is the knowledge which he displays of the peculiar manners, customs, and lore, of that chivalric period when the admirable Scott blazed comet-like before the gaze of Europe, that we are half inclined to suspect that the story was formed rather as a setting for these gems of learning, than that they were gathered for the purpose of illustrating and adorning the fiction itself. Page after page meets us with so much that is strange and fantastic in ornament, that we are constantly reminded of the antique illuminations on the margins of parchment-books-and fancy that the letters will start into curious shapes, with colours of green, and blue, and red. In two or three of the songs which are introduced, the American publisher has with good taste copied the blackletter of the English edition. We are not disposed to favor similar affectations in printing sometimes introduced by the author to prank forth meanness of thought and expression; but such aids to the fancy in a modern book, which treats of the olden time, are not to be neglected.

"Crichton" will not be a popular novel. It does not lack strong and rapid interest, but it is very far from being written in the intensive style of the day. The stars are no where apostrophized, the moon is not invoked to descend from her cerulean throne, the breezes are not called upon to fan the cheek and lift the ringlets of any beautiful female with large hazel eyes, nor are those eyes made the theme of enthusiastic effusion for six or more mortal pages. The incidents are startling, and often wonderful, but not altogether impracticable. The reader is not mercilessly stretched out on the rack of suspense, nor is his curiosity tortured on the slow revolving wheel of digression. There are no impertinences, no outrages on common sense, and no mysterious gvings out, which seem to have all the awkward contortions without the inspiration of the Sybil. For these reasons and some others, the novel will not take with the public. The faults we have to find.are that the story is too conplex, too dream-like; one event is tangled with another; there is not sufficient clearness; the mind is constantly distracted by the illustrations from the story. The portrait of Crichton is very admirably drawn, and so is that of Esclairmonde, the heroine. We are occasionally arrested by such beautiful passages as those; but we pass over all the songs and many descriptions to get at the tale. These songs and descriptions are so episodical that one could read every incident in the volumes without stopping to look at one of them. In some places you may turn over half a dozen pages without losing any thing that has happened to the characters on the scene.

"Crichton" would have afforded an admirable subject for a drama; but the

author followed the taste of the age and made a romance. All the qualities for a stage-hero are marvellously combined in Crichton. He was a sort of private Buonaparte. He conquered in the schools, he conquered in the lists, he conquered in the ball room. His beauty was matched only by his strength. When he danced, he seemed Apollo stepped from his pedestal; when he fought, he was Mars descended from his car.

He is first introduced by the author, after having just concluded a learned contest with the doctors of the University of Paris. He had come off victor by universal acclaim, and was there and then first endowed with the title by which he was ever afterwards distinguished-" The Admirable." So immense was the attendance of great men from all parts of France, to witness the discussion, that the scholars of the University were excluded, and forced to remain without the gates with the populace, who waited to witness among the nobles and chiefs of the kingdom, the egress of this world wonder. After a graphic description of the magnificent train which preceded, the rector is introduced.

"At his side, and on his right hand, walked one on whom all eyes were bent with wonder and curiosity. The rector and his companion stopped without the gateway, when, as if they were influenced by some sudden and uncontrollable impulse, one long, loud, continuous acclamation burst from the ranks of the scholNor were the graver members of the university silent. Even the doctors of theology lent the aid of their voices-while the archers, raising themselves in their stirrups, lifted their helmets from their brows, and waving them in the air, increased and prolonged the clamor by their vociferations.

ars.

"Crichton, for the reader will no doubt have surmised that he was the 'loadstar of all eyes,' possessed an exterior so striking, and a manner so eminently prepossessing, that his mere appearance seemed to act like a spell on the beholders. The strongest sympathy was instantly and universally excited in his favor. Youth is ever interesting; but youth so richly graced as Crichton's, could not fail to produce an extraordinary impression. At the sight of him, the whole aspect of things was changed. Enthusiasm, amounting almost to devotion, usurped the place of animosity, and all vindicative feelings, resulting from wounded pride or other petty annoyances, were obliterated or forgotten. Even discomfiture wore the aspect of victory.

"But in the demeanor of the victor no external sign of self-elation was perceptible. He might not be insensible to the distinction of his achievement, but he plumed himself not upon it, or rather, with the modesty ever inherent in true greatness, appeared to underrate his own success. His cheek was slightly flushed, and a smile of tempered satisfaction played upon his countenance as he acknowledged the stunning applauses of the concourse before him. No traces of overexertion or excitement were visible in his features or deportment. He would seem, to judge from his composed and collected manner, to have quitted a debate in which he had taken no further part than that of an auditor. His brow was unclouded, his look serene, his step buoyant ;-and, as his bright eye wandered over the multitude, there was not an individual upon whom his gaze momentarily rested, but felt his heart leap within his breast.

"The countenance of Crichton was one that Phidias might have portrayed, so nearly did its elevated and ennobled character of beauty approach to the ideal standard of perfection erected by the great Athenian sculptor. Chiselled like those of some ancient head of the Delphic god, the features were wrought with the utmost fineness and precision-the contour of the face was classical and harmonious-the mens divinior breathed from every lineament--the lips were firm, full, and fraught with sensibility, yet giving token of the most dauntless resolution-the chin was proudly curved-the nose Grecian-the nostril thin and haughty as that of an unbroken barb of the desert-the brow was ample and majestical, shaded by dark brown hair, disposed in thick ringlets after the manner of the antique. There was a brilliancy of color and a sparkling freshness in Crichton's complexion, the more surprising, as the pallid hue and debilitated look of the toil-worn student might more naturally be expected in his features than the rosy bloom of health. In compliance with the fashion of the day, a slight mustache feathered his upper lip, and a short pointed beard clothed his chin, and added to the grave manliness of his aspect.

We shall attempt no continued analysis of the plot, confident that the readers of this magazine at least will praise this novel; but, with one or two further extracts, and some allusion to the splendid personages of the drama, close a notice which we have been at some pains to avoid making entirely commendatory.

The volumes are not divided regularly in chapters, but into three epochs of "The First Day," "The First Night," and the" Second Night;" each of which is subdivided into chapters. At the commencement of "The First Night," Catharine de Medicis and all her beautiful attendant court are introduced; after a series of exciting descriptions, among which that of the monarch herself is introduced, follows one of the maids, around whom clusters the chief interest of the romance, as it is she to whom the noble heart of Crichton is devoted. To be remarked by Crichton was enough to captivate any woman; but "la belle Esclairmonde" loved him with a devotion different from that of all other stars of that brilliant court, for it was the devotion of a pure heart. Esclairmonde is present at a fete given by the king, as one of the train of the queen-mother; and at this fete her beauty first met the gaze of the voluptuous monarch. And well it might! we exclaim, as we read the following.

"Alas! how inadequate are mere words to convey a notion of the beauty we would wish to portray. The creation of the poet's fancy fades in the evanescent coloring he is compelled to employ. The pen cannot trace what the pencil is enabled so vividly to depict: it cannot accurately define the exquisite contour of the face, neither can it supply the breathing hues of the check-the kindling lustre of the eye-the dewy gloss of the lip-or the sheen of the hair-be it black as the raven's wing, or glowing as a sunbeam, or fleecy as a summer cloud. The imagination alone can furnish these details; and to the reader's imagination we would gladly intrust the portraiture of Esclairmonde, venturing, however, to offer a few farther hints for his guidance.

"Imagine, then, features moulded in the most harmonious form of beauty, and chiselled with a taste at once softened and severe. The eyes are of a dark deep blue, swimming with a chastened tenderness. An inexpressible charm reigns about the lips; and a slight dimple, in which a thousand Cupids might bask, softly indents the smooth and rounded chin. Raised from the brow, so as completely to display its snowy expanse, the rich auburn hair is gathered in plaits at the top of the head-crisped with light curls at the sides-ornamented with a string of pearls, and secured at the back with a knot of ribands; a style of head-dress introduced by the unfortunate Mary Stuart, from whom it derived its name, and then universally adopted in the French court. The swan-like throat is encircled by a flat collar of starched muslin, edged with pointed lace. Rich purple velvet of Florence constitutes the material of the dress-the long and sharp bodice of which attracted Henri's attention to the slender shape and distinctly-defined bosom of the lovely demoiselle.

"In passing, we may remark, that the rage for the excessively attenuated waist was then at its highest. Our tight-laced grandmothers were nothing to the waspshaped dames of the court of Catharine de Medicis. Fitting like a cuiras, the corset was tightened around the shape till its fair wearer, if her figure happened to exceed the supposed limits of gracefulness, could scarcely gasp beneath the parasite folds; while the same preposterous sleeve which characterized the cavaliers of the period, likewise distinguished the dames. Nor had Esclairmonde neglected due observance of this beauty-outraging mode, or, despite her personal attractions, she had hardly found favor in her sovereign's eyes. These prodigious coverings of the arms, we are informed, were stuffed out and sustained by a huge pile of wool, and were of such amplitude and width that they would easily have contained three or four of our modern, and, by comparison, moderately-sized sleeves. Edged with pointed lace, starched like that of the collar, a ruff of muslin completed the gear of the arm. Around her neck was hung a chain of bronze medallions, and a single pear-shaped pearl descended from the acute extremity of

her stomacher.

"Tall and majestic in figure, the carriage of Esclairmonde was graceful and dignified; and, as he contemplated her soft and sunny countenance, Henri thought that, with one solitary exception, he had never beheld an approach to its beauty.

VOL. X.

11