the latter for that impatience of control, which might have been foreseen, but could not, perhaps, under all circumstances, have been remedied, or the effects prevented. In truth, these states, as all colonies will do, especially when called to the trial of physical energy and intellectual combination, began to feel their own force, and to become ambitious of independence. The conquest and impolitic retention of Canada, completed the alienation of what affection the colonists still possessed towards England, by removing from them that dread of their powerful neighbours, which had hitherto been the principal bond of their attachment and allegiance. It is a fact not generally known, that long before the expedition against Quebec, the leading men in America projected a separation of the two countries, but were dissuaded from pursuing the design for the present by Dr. Franklin, whose advice was to lie upon their oars and watch the tide, till the end of the war, when England having become exhausted, and France impoverished, a fair opening would be made to gain the object they wished. Such was the counsel of this deep politician, and the issue proved the soundness of his calculations. The writer of this article does not copy what others have reported, but from information of the first authority, no less man than that of Franklin himself, whose correspondences passed under his observation, in order to a selection of such letters and papers as might be deemed proper for pub lication. But to pass from this general matter to the work now immediately under review. The first book of the historical part begins with the Discoveries of the Cabots, and the Settlement of Virginia." As, however, the compiler could not help noticing the Welsh legend of Madoc, he despatches the Cambrian prince by supposing that, in stead of America, he landed in Spain, which is an hypothesis far more improbable than the other. For our parts, though we have no decided opinion upon the subject, yet we cannot avoid wishing that in a large work like this, the history of Madoc had been more amply detailed; together with the inquiries that have been instituted into the existence of the supposed Welsh Indians, the result of which has been published through different channels by Mr. William Owen and other intelligent writers. We have also to express our wonder that a copious history of America should not be introduced by a minute account of the several tribes of native Indians, whose manners, languages, customs, and peculiar distinctions, certainly merited particular investigation. Instead of all this, we are in the first chapter presented with an elaborate and certainly a well-written narrative, of the voyages made to this great continent previous to the settlement of Virginia by Raleigh and Grenville; the particulars of which are fully and well related. The third chapter is still more interesting, by exhibiting a variety of affecting incidents connected with the history of those religious emigrants, who for the sake of conscience quitted England and settled in Massachusetts. While, however, due praise is given to these confessors, the conduct of their descendants towards the Baptists, and particularly to the Quakers, is justly condemned, and without any attempt at extenuation. In this chapter, however, we expected to have met with a minute narrative of the regicides who found an asylum here, and were protected, notwithstanding the diligent search made, and great rewards offered, for their apprehension. Their history is barely noticed in a few lines, while that of the witchcraft mania, which is a blot in the national character, occupies as many pages. The fourth chapter is taken up with an account of the origin and progress of the states of New Hampshire and Maine. This is followed by a history of Connecticut, which state was originally settled by the Dutch, who were expelled by the English as intruders, but unquestionably without any principle of justice, for having made the first discovery of Hudson's river, and established themselves upon its banks, their right was incontestable, even if they had not obtained a patent grant from their government of the territory they claimed. The treatment which these people received is deservedly censured by the historian in strong terms. But if the narrative of these violations has excited any painful emotions, that which follows, of the revival of religion in this part of America, by George Whitefield, has afforded a gratifying relief. This historical oasis is described, as it well merited, with a glow of animation suited to the magnitude of the subject, and the mighty consequences that flowed from the indefatigable zeal of that wonderful man, and his coadjutor in the great missionary work, John Wesley. The sixth chapter of this book contains a narrative of the settlement of Rhode Island, in 1636, by Roger Williams, who, to the disgrace of the Puritans of Massachusetts, was banished from that province, on account of the liberality of his opinions, and his zeal in promulgating them. This venerable man REVIEW. THE TALBA; OR, MOOR OF PORTUGAL. disliking persecution for conscience sake, justly condemned the spirit of his brethren, who had quitted their native land, rather than comply with impositions which they deemed sinful. Notwithstanding this, the very same men, when possessed of power, as if forgetful of their own history, wielded the iron rod of authority with unmerciful severity towards all who had the presumption to think for themselves. Roger Williams, on the contrary, openly professed the great principle of Christian liberty, and for this alone was he expelled from Massachusetts by the general assembly. On this he removed to Seeconk, but there also the persecuting scourge followed him, and he was obliged to seek another asylum beyond the reach, and out of the jurisdiction, of his enemies. Having found a resting place, he formed a plantation, to which he gave the name of New Providence. Afterwards, he, in conjunction with some other sufferers for the same cause, effected a purchase from the Indians, of Rhode Island; which became, under his mild administration, a flourishing establishment. So superior was he to the meanness of revenge, and such was his magnanimity, that he exerted all his influence with the Indians in favour of Massachusetts, and ever evinced the greatest friendship for the colony from which he had been driven. He died at the age of eighty-four, in 1683. Here we close our notice of this important work, as far as it has proceeded; but it remains to say somewhat of its external appearance and embellishments. The typography is perfectly answerable to the graphical illustrations, which, besides being executed, both with respect to drawing and engraving, in the first style of art, display to advantage the natural scenery of the country, and the great progress which our American brethren have made in ornamental architecture, as they had before done in the mechanical sciences, manufactures, and commerce. REVIEW.-The Talba, or Moor of Portugal. a Romance. By Mrs. Bray, 3 vols. 12mo. pp. 307-291-284. Longman. London. 1830. WHEN Fitz-Ford, by the same fair authoress, passed under our review during the preceding year, we had an opportunity of appreciating her descriptive and inventive powers. These made a favourable impression on our minds, and prepared us to receive, with interesting expectation, the future productions of her pen. Another opportunity now pre sents itself in the volumes before us, of estimating her mental abilities and literary acquirements, and in both respects they appear in an auspicious light. Talba, or the Moor of Portugal, is entitled a Romance, and in many respects this is its real character. But even fiction in detail claims genuine history as its basis; and, from an unwearied attention to manners and customs which appear in their delineations, all works of this description must be primarily and ultimately indebted for their permanent fame. To these, Mrs. Bray has devoted her inquiries, and in the narratives, episodes, and descriptions with which these volumes abound, they appear in all the vigour that an association with life can impart. It is not within the limits of a review to give even an outline of these volumes. Mrs. Bray paints, with exquisite colouring, the prevailing manners and character of the Moors and Portuguese: but so numerous are the attitudes in which they are placed, that nothing but a perusal of the work can convey an adequate idea of the varieties which they display. Of the conflicting emotions, however, which some of the scenes excite, the following extract of a bull-fight may serve as a specimen. "All was in readiness. Alonso cast a look on Hamet, in which there was something less severe than his usual expression: "Art thou prepared ?" said the king."Ay, for life or death!" replied Hamet. "Then God be thy judge, young man," said Alonso, as he raised his arm and gave the signal. The trumpet gave one clear and hollow blast. It curdled the blood; for it sounded like the knell of death, to all but the obdurate. Ere the echoes of the surrounding mountains had finished repeat ing the awful clarion, the barriers were thrown open; and with one bound the bull burst out. With nostrils smoking, as he uttered fearful bellowings, he stood gazing around, shook his sides, pawed the ground with his broad hoofs, but did not advance to the combat. He was black in colour; aud therefore had he been named Nero. Whilst thus he stood, wild cries arose from the circus. They were strange and mingled; some seemed uttered in joy that the animal showed little symptoms of being willing for the attack. The more brutal Portuguese, however,-those true lovers of the game, who could forget even humanity in their sports,-greeted the creature with yells, hoots, and hissings; since it was always deemed an infallible mark of cowardice in the bull, if he did not instantly attack his foe. Hamet was ready to receive him,-his wood knife in his hand, his eye fixed on his enemy. His fine person drawn to its utmost height, every mus, cle in his slender limbs seemed to swell and to show its power, as he stood, "like a greyhound on the slip," eager for the hardy encounter. The bull, having been irritated by turning dogs out upon him, (a usual practice whenever the animal showed any delay in the attack,) now sufficiently convinced all the spectators that such delay was not from want of spirit. With an aspect full of savage fury, he lashed his sides with his broad tail, bellowed, tore up the ground with hoof and youth, by leaping with an agility alone to be com horns, aud darted forward toward Hamet. The pared to the nimble-footed chamois, as it springs from rock to rock, endeavouring, but in vain, to avoid the continued pursuit of the bull,-his eye ever watchful for the moment of attack. No such moment occurred; and it seemed evident that his life would terminate with the time in which he should become spent and breathless from the violent exertions he made to preserve it. Hassan saw this. He clasped his hands together in agony-he looked up to heaven-he uttered fearful cries, that mingled even with his prayers. "He will die! he will die!" exclaimed Hassan. "Oh, for an angel's wing to waft him hence in safety! Mortal aid is there none to save him. But see, prophet of Mecca! what a daring act. He has seized the terrible animal by the horns; he suffers himself to be dragged round the arena! Now he hangs by one hand: he stabs bim in the throat; the blood spouts like a fount of watersbut the brute still lives. Look! Hamet falls from his hold-God save thee.' He is up again! he is on his feet! Ob, Allah, how I thank thee! He flies; he flies!-but look! the brute is mad with fury, gored with wounds. See how he tears up the sand. He follows-he follows; how will Hamet escape! He has driven the youth close to the barrier; there is no escape, no hope-he must fall!" "He falls not, he falls not!" exclaimed Cassim. "Oh, noble Hamet!" At this instant a loud, continued, and deafening shout of applause shook the arena; for Hamet, bold, active, quick of eye, and vigorous of limb. with one bound, the very instant the bull was about to toss him 'on his horns, sprang on the animal's back, and leapt over him. He ran forward. Nero had already received more than one stab from the knife. None of them, however, reached any mortal part; still he bled fast, and there was hope, could Hamet but keep him at bay till the creature was somewhat spent by loss of blood, he might even yet despatch him. So great was the interest excited in the breasts of the spectators, that many called out to him to make for the extremity of the arena, under the king's pavilion, as being furthest removed from his enemy. The bull had, indeed, turned again to the pursuit; and that with so much fierceness, the last efforts of his rage, that the sight of it impressed horror. His blood streamed from his flanks; he bounded, rather than ran forward, with dreadful bellowings. He shook his neck and sides, tossed the sand in his career, whilst volumes of smoke arose from his mouth and nostrils. Hamet, as a final effort, determined to spring upon him; and for that purpose, when within a few yards of the bull, turned to confront him. His foot slippedhe fell-and the knife dropped from his hand. All hope filed; for at this instant he stood close to the barrier, which cut off all retreat, and the wild bull was making towards him, with head bent to gore him to death with his horns. A cry of horror arose from the arena. Hamet sprung up. There was no escape. Ines de Castro sat immediately above the very spot where the youthful Moor was in so much danger. Quick in feeling and in thought, she tore from her shoulders the crimson mantle in which she was wrapt, and threw it into the arena with so true a hand, that Hamet caught it-cast it over the bull's head as he prepared to gore him-and ere the beast could disentangle himself from the blind thus thrown over him, Hamet recovered his knife that lay close at his feet, and struck it into the spine. His mighty enemy fell a convulsed corpse before his view. Hamet, overcome by the tumult of his feelings, dropped on his knees, clasped his hands together, looked up to heaven, but could not speak. Tears burst from his eyes, and in some measure relieved his over-burdened spirit, while a thousand and a thousand shouts rent the air with joy and gladness, and thanksgiving for his deliverance."-Vol. II. p. 27-35. Of this work, the leading features are, history and manners, decorated with the ALTHOUGH England may boast of some of the most able and highly gifted men that ever adorned this or any other country,— whose discoveries have shed a lustre not only upon themselves, but upon their posterity, yet the rank which this country holds in the departments of science is much below that of others, much inferior to it in pretensions. This may in a great measure be attributed to the little interest which the wealthy and the powerful take in scientific pursuits. If a man of power or of wealth be pressed to patronize any means adapted to promote objects of this description, the natural question should be, how shall I exert my influence so as most effectually to promote so desirable an object. But in this country, influence, which could be usefully exerted, is withheld, unless the subject chimes in with the taste of the individual or his friends; or that it be recommended by some person of consideration, and having some claim to the friendship or countenance of his superior. The question seldom arises, what is the nature, or what the merits, of this claim to my support ;-but, by whom is it concocted or proposed, and what right has he to either my support or my countenance? "But," says Sir H. Davy, 66 we philosophers.-There are very few persons may in vain search the aristocracy now for who pursue science with true dignity; it is followed more as connected with objects of profit than those of fame."* The truth is, that the aristocracy are more influenced by the mercenary interests of their dependants, than by a love of science, or any desire of promoting it. The encouragement too for the prosecuting of REVIEW.-DECLINE OF SCIENCE IN ENGLAND. science is in this country very defective. The author of the work, the title of which stands at the head of this article, has entered at considerable length upon this subject. In discussing the inducements to cultivate science, he institutes a comparison between France and England, in which our country does not rank very high. "If we turn," he says, " on the other hand, to the emoluments of science in France, we shall find them far to exceed those in ourown country. I regret much that I have mislaid a most interesting memorandum on this subject, which I made several years since; but I believe my memory on the point will not be found widely iucorrect. A foreign gentleman, bimself possessing no inconsiderable acquaintance with science, called on me a few years since, to present a letter of introduction. He had been but a short time in London; and, in the course of our conversation, it appeared to me that he had imbibed very inaccurate ideas respecting our encouragement of science. "Thinking this a good opportunity of instituting a fair comparison between the emoluments of science in the two countries, I placed a sheet of paper before him, and requested him to write down the names of six Englishmen, in his opinion, best known in France for their scientific reputation. Taking another sheet of paper, I wrote upon it the names of six Frenchmen, best known in England for their scientific discoveries. We exchanged these lists, and I then requested him to place against each name (as far as he knew), the annual income of the different appointments held by that person. In the mean time, I performed the same operation on his list, against some names of which I was obliged to place a zero. The result of the comparison was an average of nearly £1,200 per annum, for the six French savaus whom I had named. Of the average amount of the sums received by the English, I only remember that it was very much smaller. When we consider what a command over the necessaries and luxuries of life £1,200, will give in France, it is under-rating it to say, that it is equal to £2,000, in this country."-pp. 35, 36. Such is, we fear, a true, though humiliating picture of the encouragement held out to scientific exertions in this country. This is the more to be lamented, because it not only reduces us below the level of literary nations, but opposes a most effectual barrier to the cultivation of natural genius. Authors draw a very humiliating, though a very faithful picture of these facts. "Let us now look," he says, " at the prospects of a young man on bis entrance into life, who, impelled by an almost irresistible desire to devote himself to the abstruser sciences, or who, confident in the energy of youthful power, feels that the career of science is that in which his mental facul man of our acquaintance, proposed the establishment of a Philosophical Society in the town in which he resided. A meeting was held, and the society formed. On the day of the meeting, a very influ ential gentleman and a magistrate met our friend, and expressed much regret that he was not aware of the meeting, or he should certainly have attended; but that he would give the society all the support in his power. But a professional rival, who was upon terms of greater intimacy with this gen tleman, and who was opposed to the formation of a literary institution, to which he could contribute nothing more valuable than his subscription, dissuaded his friend from his first resolution.-Strange that a man should be thus dictated to, and diverted from a purpose which his conscience told him was good! 95 ties are most fitted to achieve the reputation for which he pants. What are his prospects? Can even the glowing pencil of enthusiasm add colour to the blank before him? There are no situations in the state, there is no position in society, to which hope can point, to cheer him in his laborious path. If, indeed, he belong to one of our universities, there are some few chairs in his own Alma Mater, to which he may at some distant day pretend; but these are not numerous; and whilst the salaries attached are seldom sufficient for the sole support of the individual, they are very rarely enough for that of a family. What then can he reply to the entreaties of his friends to betake himself to some business, in which, perhaps, they have power to assist him, or to choose some profession in which his talents may produce for him their fair reward? If he have no fortune, the choice is taken away he must give up that line of life, in which his habits of thought and his ambition qualify him to succeed eminently, and he must choose the bar or some other profession, in which, amongst so many competitors in spite of his great talents, he can be but moderately successful. The loss to him is great; but to the country it is greater. We thus, by a destructive misapplication of talent, which our institutions create, exchange a profound philosopher for but a tolerable lawyer."p. 36, 37. There can be no doubt that the above is the true state of the case. The personal experience of every individual will attest this truth. If the friends of a youth should not design him for trade, or some of the more servile pursuits in life, they fix upon one of the three professions, or the army or navy, which latter may be comprehended under the generic-military life. Thus we often hear a parent say, he intends his son for the church, or some one of the departments of law or physic. But who ever heard of a man intending his son to qualify for an astronomer, for a philosopher, a mathematician, or a chemist. "Tis true, that this country has produced some of the most able characters; men celebrated for their labours and the depth of their researches in each of these, we had almost said neglected, departments; but they have come from the ranks of the learned professions. For instance, Wollaston and Young were both Doctors in Medicine, and so are Henry and Prout. We may here remark upon Dr. Wollaston, that probably we owe it to accident that he forsook a profession which he despised, to cultivate a science in which he delighted. Mr. Babbage considers the constitution and government of several of the learned and scientific societies. He is particularly and probably too severe in his remarks. Indeed, he is almost rude to the President of the Royal Society, and to this individual he is not only personal, but unpardonably offensive. Thus we cannot approve the following: "Why Mr. Davies Gilbert became President of the Royal Society I cannot precisely say. Let him who penned, and those who supported, this resolution, solve the enigma. "It was resolved, "That it is the opinion of the council, that ships than any others. Their success also Davies Gilbert, Esq. is by far the most fit person to be proposed to the Society, at the approaching anniversary as President, and that he be recommended accordingly!" "To resolve that he was a fit person, might have been sufficiently flattering; to state that he was the most fit, was a little hard upon he rest of the Society; but to resolve that he was by far the most fit, was only consistent with that strain of compli ment in which bis supporters indulge; and was an eulogy, by no means unique in its kind, I believe, even at that very council."-p. 53. Mr. Babbage discusses various measures for elevating the scientific character of this country. But there can be devised no means effectual, unless such as will give a different complexion to the habits and pursuits of the public. There is one great difficulty, and that is, the dulness of the scientific market, and the incompetence, generally speaking, of the public. There is another great barrier to the promotion of knowledge, arising from the publishers and booksellers. These gentry rarely look either to the importance of the subject, or the ability of the work, and therefore they will not publish any thing, except upon the most advantageous terms, unless the "titlepage" be adorned with the name of some eminent or popular character, or some literary favourite. Till the progress of science has advanced sufficiently, and its cultivation become more general, so that the merits of the thing, and not the received estimation of its source, become the subject of consideration, and the ground-work of its reception and reward, it will be in vain to hope for any amelioration, or to expect that this country will be able to compete, on a large scale, with the science of other nations. How long it may be before this most desirable consummation shall be obtained, it is difficult to decide, and it would be hazardous to conjecture. However, we recommend Mr. Babbage's work to an attentive perusal and serious consideration. REVIEW.-Calmuc Tartary, or a Journey from Sarepta to several Calmuc Hordes of the Astracan Government, &c. By Henry Augustus Zwick and John Golfried Schill. 8vo. pp. 262. Holdsworth and Ball. London. 1831. THE United or Moravian Brethren must always claim the honour of standing foremost among the numerous missionaries who have forsaken their kindred and home, to spread through heathen nations the unsearchable riches of Christ. Early in the field, undaunted by difficulties, and persevering in their efforts, they have perhaps endured greater privations and braved more hard has in a great measure corresponded with their exertions. Through evil report and good report, and chiefly drawing their resources from themselves, without noise or ostentation, they have penetrated into every zone, frequently labouring with their own hauds to procure the necessaries of life, while endeavouring among hordes of semisavages to communicate a knowledge of salvation through the Redeemer and Saviour of mankind. The title of the volume now under inspection announces its character, and also that of the expedition which gave it birth. The author, anxious to disseminate the words of eternal life among the outcasts of society, copies of the bible, this being the only metraversed the wilds of Calmuc Tartary with dium of communicating divine knowledge tolerated by the Russian government. Pursuing his route among these wandering hordes, this volume contains a journal of his proceedings, of the treatment he received, the dangers he encountered, the observations he made on Calmuc manners and passing occurrences, and on the little success which attended his journey. These he has embodied in the present narrative, which exhibits a picture of human nature in some of its most deplorable characteristics and deepest shades. From the face of the narrative it would appear, that few among the wandering tribes which the author visited and followed in their various migrations could ever be lated into their native language. This hosinduced to receive the bible, though transtility almost uniformly arose from their Lamas or Priests, to whose authority both princes and people were held in the most abject bondage. On many occasions the author became an object of derision and scorn; and but for the authority by which his undertaking had been sanctioned, even his personal safety would more than once have been endangered. To the swarms of locusts with which the country is at certain seasons infected and desolated, the author several times adverts, but without on any one occasion entering into a lengthened detail. The depredations of these unwelcome visitors are the more to be deplored, as the country is in general barren and dreary, and, from the superstition of the people, who believe in the transmigration of souls, all attempts to destroy them are strictly prohibited. Of the manner in which these semi-barbarians dispose of their dead, the reader will be able to form a tolerable estimate from the following paragraph. |