course of trade. The last three years has been a period of trial and suffering. The manufacturer has had to encounter unprecedented importations, constantly passing under the hammer, and, at times, for a sum less than half the first costs. Our author is of opinion, that the population of the United States is not sufficient to justify the country's embarking in ma nufactures. Were New-England, whose soil is incapable of subsisting her growing population, to consult Mr. B. on the mes of retaining and subsisting that population, at home, which is daily emigrating to the west, what answer would he give? The answer given by the treatises on population, is, open new channels of industry, new sources of subsistence; in other words, introduce and extend manufactures. By such a course only can that, and some other districts of the United States, avoid falling into comparative insignificance in the scale of the union.

In this contest, carried on between the friends of American, and the advocates of foreign manufactures, the latter have almost uniformly mistated the question, and the grounds of governmental protection of manufactures. The friends of domestic manufactures are constantly charged with the design of introducing the Chinese system of forcing manufactures, and coercing the country with establishments of all descriptions. This charge has been made, and, in some instances, from the worst of motives, to excite hostility against our own, and continue old, and, with some, invincible attachments, to foreign fabrics. But the petitions of manufacturers, and the very extract given by Mr. Bristed, from the president's speech, refute and put to silence this calumny;-the whole ground of application being limited to upholding the establishments, which the late war gave rise to, and the extensive capital invested in them. Mr. Bristed has adopted the above course of warfare.

The friends of American manufactures are truly unfortunate, in being either misrepresented, or misunderstood, as to almost all that has been done on the subject, and especially as to the extent of the

protection, or duty on imported goods. Many will be surprised to find the whole protection to consist in a duty, which is less, with the exception of coarse India cottons, than the duty on many other imported articles, which do not come at all into competition with domestic manufactures, the articles not being produced in the United States. The specific duties are particularly referred to. The original duty on woollen and cottons was particularly light, owing to the state of the country, then, without manufactures of that nature. Hence the raising of the duty to its present amount, though still less than on other articles, has been felt much more than it otherwise would have been. It is believed to be an incontrovertible fact, that the increase of duty has not increased the price of goods, and that goods have continued lower, under the duty, to this day, than at any other period.

We have not leisure, at present, to follow Mr. Bristed over the whole ground which he has pretended to survey. The specimens we have given of his arrogance of assertion and his ignorance of facts, will enable our readers to form a tolerably just idea of the general merit of his work. There are, indeed, some correct opinions expressed on subjects which do not excite the author's national or political prejudices,-but where these come into view, he betrays the veriest bigotry. On the whole, Mr. Bristed's book may be safely read, and possibly with some advantage, by those who know how to estimate the value of his remarks and the force of his reasoning, and who are able, from their own knowledge, to rectify his errors, and to supply his deficiencies;— but it is by no means to be relied on, as an authentic source of information, by those who are unacquainted with the subjects of which it treats. A foreigner will learn, for example, from Mr. Bristed, that Ohio is a ship-building state, but he is not told, by Mr. Bristed, that naval architecture is understood or practised, in New-England, or New-York!

T. R.

Ꭲ

IT is no slight objection to this work, that, in itself, it is wholly unintelligible, and that in order to understand its scope, it is requisite to peruse one of the VOL. III.-No. 11.

14

most senseless, insipid, and contemptible productions in our language-the novel of Glenarvon. And it is no little mortification, after having submitted to this pe

nance, to discover that so much labour has been wasted, and that this satirical effusion is but an abortive attempt to exaggerate absurdity. Lest, however, some of our readers, through a foolish inquisitiveness, should doom themselves to the task which duty imposed upon us, we will imbody, in as few words as possible, our recollections of the nonsensical story, which the volume before us is designed to ridicule.

vours.

Lady Calantha Delaval, the heroine of Glenarvon, was the daughter of the duke of Altamonte, and was betrothed, at an early age, to her cousin William Buchanan, son of lady Margaret Buchanan, the duke's sister. Lady Margaret had resided much in Italy, and on her return to Ireland, was accompanied by a number of Cecisbeos, who were desperately enamoured of this dowager coquette. Among these inamoratos was a young man, who passed by the name of the count Viviani. He was almost the only one of lady Margaret's wooers who did not enjoy her faShe availed herself, nevertheless, of his devotion, to instigate him to destroy the infant son of the duke, her brother, that her own child might be the nearest male heir to the honours of the house of Altamonte. Yet she recompensed this service by no relaxation of her austerity, towards her pining swain. Cheated of his stipulated reward, Viviani vowed vengeance, but the progress of the tale requires that he should lie for a while, perdue. About the time, which had been allotted for the marriage of Calantha and her cousin Buchanan, the earl of Avondale made his appearance at castle Delaval. He was young, gallant, and withal a soldier. Calantha, who was the child of romance, was soon captivated by his beauty and high-bearing. He was not insensible to her charms. After numerous trials, inclination prevailed over policy-and Avondale and Calantha were united. For a few years they resided in the country, absorbed in each other and mutually delighted. A girl and a boy crowned and cemented their affection. Lord Avondale was all indulgence, and Calantha was pleased to be a pet.

with less to her virtue than is usually sustained. Lady Calantha and her spouse, in the course of a year or two, revisited casthe Delaval. Here were collected many of her ladyship's near relations and several of her fashionable intimates. Lord Avondale's military duties called him to some distance, and his visits to the castle were rare. The whole country was rife with rumours of rebellion. The spirit of insurrection was fomented in the neighbourhood of castle Delaval, by one who assumed the title of lord Glenarvon-but whose ancestor had been attainted. Of this youth the most extraordinary accounts were propagated. He was said to possess a sort of fascination, by which, in despite of a thousand crimes and the most unamiable disposition, he could attach to himself, beyond the power of resistance, any woman on whom he fixed his serpent gaze. The daughters of Sir Everard St. Clare, his brother's widow, and Elinor her lovely child, had all been inveigled by this beauteous monster, and had become the partners of his various guilt. The report of such transcendant powers of seduction, rendered all the female inhabitants of castle Delaval anxious, beyond measure, to obtain a sight of so terrible a young man. Accident first brought him to the view of Calantha, but, unconscious as she was, who was the object that had caught her roving glance, she felt that the impression he had made on her was indelible. Political considerations induced the duke of Altamonte to make overtures to the young heir of Glenarvon, and to invite him to his board. This was the commencement of an intimacy, on which Glenarvon knew how to improve. By the most refined coxcombry, he soon wrought Calantha up to the most uncontrollable passion. He practised no common arts. He was continually warning her against her weakness, and as constantly assuring her that she was fated to be his. No one, he told her, could withstand him-yet he had never been faithful to any one. He even boasted to her of his crimes, and gloried in their enormity. Still he assured her, it was her des-. tiny to abandon herself to him, and, ultimately, to attain to the same proud superiority over the trivial precepts of vulgar morality. We cannot dwell upon such despicable and revolting cant. Yet it seems Calantha was won. All the use. however, which Glenarvon made of his triumph over her principles, was to obtain from her a few amatory letters, and to expose them to her female acquaintances. Having led her to the brink of ruin, the

heartless lover leaves her to thank him that his clemency spared her from destruction. He addicts himself to a new intrigue, and writes to her a most brutal finale. During the whole course of this platonic amour, the indiscretion of Calantha was a diurnal topic of reprehension at the castle-though no interruption was offered to her hourly private intercourse with a man, who, we should think, could scarcely obtain admission into any reputable family. Avondale is at last informed of Calantha's imprudences, and resolves to separate from her. He does this manfully, and announces to her his determination, without uttering a reproach. Calantha, whose affection for her husband had revived after the shock which her heart had experienced from the infidelity of Glenarvon, resolves to follow him wherever he may exile himself. She overtakes Avondale in the night, at an ian. The repulses she receives from the servants of his uncle, in whose company he is travelling, added to her fatigues of mind and body, throw her into convulsions.

Avondale is informed of her situation, and surrenders himself to the impulses of this love. He hurries to her bedside, pronounces her forgiveness,and is satisfied of her innocence. Calantha blesses him, and dies. Glenarvon, who proves in the sequel to be Viviani, now wreaks his revenge on lady Margaret, whom he had made, ad interim, subservient to his desires. He discloses to the duke of Altamonte the murder she had meditated of his son-restores to him that son, whom he had preserved, by murdering a substitute, with his own hand, assassinates lady Margaret-embarks on board a frigate, to the command of which he had been appointed-seeks death in battle, which there eludes him-and, finally, persecuted by preternatural visions, dives into the deep, and is ingulphed.

The novel under review is the counterpart of the foregoing. Camilla Walsingham, who is ever-so-beautiful and delectable, is the only daughter of a very wealthy family, and is sought in marriage by lord Ellesmere. Camilla listens to his suit, and returns his love. But she soon finds him violent and capricious. He is supremely selfish, and requires from her an entire relinquishment of self. Short intercourse convinces her that he is not calculated to make her happy. On this consideration, she rejects him, much to his chagrin, notwithstanding his beauty, talents and accomplishments. By the advice of her friends, she marries sir Lu

ao

signan Delbury, a man possessed of many amiable, but of no great qualities. Soon after her introduction into life, lord Ellesmere becomes acquainted with sir Lusignan, and is introduced into his family. He enjoys, through the listlessness of her husband, every opportunity of making his court to Camilla; he does not succeed, however, in making any undue impression upon her. But sir Lusignan, forgetful of the treasure he possesses in a virtuous and tender wife, forms a connection with a lady Carbury, a fashionable demirep, with whom, he shortly after elopes to France. Camilla, leaving her children in the care of her father, pursues her husband to Paris. Lord Ellesmere contrives to fall in with her, on the route, and annoys her with his visits after her arrival in that city. She discovers sir Lusignan's residence in the vicinity, and forces herself into his presence. He listens to her remonstrances and protestations knowledges his own fault-but recrimi nates by charging her with an intimacy with lord Ellesmere. The contempt and obduracy, with which she is treated, by him for whom she has endured and tempt. ed so great sufferings, overcome the for titude of Camilla. She returns home in a state of derangement. In this condition she is seen by lord Ellesmere, who, touched to the heart by the sight of the misery, which he had been so instrumental in producing, discards his injurious designs, and, in a letter to sir Lusignan, does ample justice to the character of his wife. This letter falls into the hands of lady Carbury, who of course suppresses it. But sir Lusignan is, not long afterwards, attacked by a malignant fever, and the apprehension of infection, together with the advances of a new lover, induces lady Carbury to desert him. She has, however, the good nature to send him lord Ellesmere's letter, and to recommend lady Delbury as a nurse, Camilla has, in the mean time, recovered from her delirium, and hearing of sir Lusignan's malady, sets forth to make another essay to . approach him. On arriving at his chateau, she finds it nearly deserted, no one daring to watch that dissolution which all considered inevitable. She comes, however, in season to avert this calamity-sir Lusignan recovers-and after his experience of his wife's truth and tenderness, becomes a most devoted and exemplary husband. A lady Calantha Limbe flourishes among the characters of the minor plot, who forsakes her husband and children to follow her dear poetical De Lyra,' as she terms him, on a fresh

'pilgrimage' to Palestine. Her ladyship's speeches are transcripts of those of her namesake. lady Calantha Delaval, and De Lyra is made a sort of epitome of Glenarvon.

So much for the plot.

Though we doubt not that the motive, which prompted the composition and publication of this volume, was pure,we question much, whether its circulation will tend to purify the minds of those, for whose perusal it is apparently intended. Even if it do not lead to the perusal of the destestable work, which it is meant to parody, it suggests subjects of contemplation, on which it is not salutary to rumi

nate. Innate modesty is the greatest safe guard of virtue;-and there is no more direct way of impugning this defence, than calling up discussions which involve indelicacy. We contemn, indeed, that squeamishness which takes needless alarm, but there is a boundary which it is indecent to transgress. Whether such conversations, as are recited in this novel, do actually take place amongst chaste matrons, we pretend not to say:-certain we are, however, that if they do occur, it is in the strictest privacy. That language, which it would be improper to hold in the public ear, is unfit for the public eye. E.

pp. 600.

of the most hurtful devices put in practice in the delivery of knowledge, for the covering and palliating of ignorance, and the gracing and overvaluing of what men utter, is, that they use a few observations, upon any subject, to make a solemn and formal art, by filling it up with dis course, accomodating it with some circumstances and directions to practice, and digesting it into method, whereby men grow satisfied as if no more inquiry were to be made of that matter." Many books which load the shelves of professional men, are, in truth, "hurtful devices," under the head of "directions to practice"-mysterious formularies, conjured up in the "olden" time, and heedfully preserved in imperishable black letter, abridgements, commentaries, institutes, registers, and year books, thumbed by barristers, attorneys, solicitors, justices, judges, and antiquaries, for the last five centuries. No man, with intense application, can read one-fifth of this mass; and even to do that, would be rather an evidence of stupidity than application. To digest such reading is impossible: no man in his senses would attempt it. The mind is distracted with the reading which becomes necessary at the present day, to acquire a mere knowledge of attorneyship, and many students throw up in despair the study of a single book of practice. The vast number of volumes, useless volumes, in which the practice of the courts lies dispersed, require greater expense than many gentlemen can afford. The student who aspires to a high walk in his profession, who hates "the foul fiend" attorney

law, and who does not intend to article himself for life to John Doe and Richard Roe, must wish for a reform. Every liberal lawyer is ready to renounce all allegiance to the cant and mystery of the profession. Some, indeed, may deem any innovation in this particular little better than sacrilege, as an attempt to batter down the pillars of the whole system of jurisprudence, the opinion of such persons, however, is not entitled to much con sideration. An obliquity, communicated by professional habit, has rendered their aim untrue. In other matters-untrammelled by precedent-unprejudiced-uninterested, they may seldom miss the mark of practical utility. But in this particular, we deny their impartiality. When they shall be competent to decide fairly, we will be ready to acknowledge the authority of their decision.

The delay, inconvenience, and absurdity, attending the practice of the law in the courts of common law, are comparatively of little moment when we conceive its other evils; it narrows down that gentlemanly courtesy which ought to prevail and be characteristic of the gown,its direct tendency is to extirpate all ingenuousness, and give place to low, contemptible cunning-to introduce superficial knowledge, high pretensions,-in a word, professional quackery. To it may be imputed that pruriency manifested by every presumptuous scrivener for professional employment-the hot-bed of chicanery grows rank under its influence, and shoots forth perennial litigation. Abolish this artificial system, and an effectual blow

is inflicted upon a tribe of unworthy men, who infest and dishonour the bar. Let the practic volumes of attorneyship be thrown down-they have no charms for genius-they repel the scrutiny of erudition-and baffle the efforts of the legal tyro. Who ever envied the fame of the most expert attorney? What eminent lawyer does not confess his repugnance to the trammels of practice? Unlike other branches of science,-neither reason nor utility recommend the study of the arcana of legal tactics. Many men, who never were intended for physicians, are pleased with the study of medicine, laymen, skilled in polemic divinity, have become so from motives of curiosity or zeal;—but who ever heard of the physician, divine, or private gentleman mustering courage to con the pages of folios invented, for the edification of practising attorneys in the courts of king's bench and common pleas? The absurd practice of our courts has created a distinct class of men, who rely wholly for subsistence upon the law's delay-who are grossly ignorant of every principle of jurisprudence, and, indeed, whose mode of professional business seldom requires the application of legal learning. Many have been admitted at the bar, to whom that honour was altogether unexpected at first, and whose original employment had been to run on errands, and keep free from dust the pleadings of their masters,-without talents, education, or manners, they drew largely upon accident and impudence, and having got the knack of indenting a deed and affixing a seal,-all at once they rose buoyant to the sphere of civilians and advocates. Seven years ap prenticeship by immemorial usage, is the term prescribed to acquire the knowledge of any mechanical art. A spruce attorney need serve but little more than half that time to become an adept in his trade. A tin ticket, with burnished let ters, on his window,--the Attorney's Manual on his table, and a good stock of impudence to overbalance his ignorance, are the only requisites now a days to enable any one to commence the practice of the law. A friendly constable is enlisted to seek for business, and, if necessary, to make it. If a justice can be found who will dare to punish for contempt of court -it is a great debut, if he can be committed for insolence,-as he acquires by that means the reputation of being a smart fellow. Constables, marshals, and their retainers, who dislike such harsh proceedings, cry him up on the instant, and he commences lawyer under their auspices,

"Feed contention in a lingering act." Is it surprising then, that the Jobsons and Halloways of the day, should be expert in that branch of the practice which able and fair men do not wish to know, which they learn only upon compulsion, and in their own defence? We admit that under the existing rules of our courts, an inferior class of professional men must be employed, but we object to investing them with the privileges which belong exclusively to able and well educated lawyers.

Two-fifths of the persons admitted to practice as attorneys, subsist upon the mountebank contrivances which are tolerated to the manifest injury of highminded men. The thousand common sayings in the mouth of the multitude, detracting from the honour of the profession en masse, and which are daily repeated by women and children as gospel truths, owe their currency to the confounding of the tricky trading attorney, with the legitimate lawyer. Unmerited obloquy is thus heaped upon the good men and true of the profession, who have ever proved a ball of fire against oppression,-who, in the darkest times, have vindicated public and private rights, at the hazard of life and fortune. Men in high stations too, have given currency to the charges preferred, by the illiterate and prejudiced, against the whole profession. A grave member of the Senate, in his place, has stated that poverty and ruin denote the presence and mark the ravages of attor neys in every county in the state. That this class of men are accumulating immense wealth wrung from the hard earnings of the yeomanry. This, in many instances, we doubt not is true-but in those flagrant cases, where great distress is brought upon the community-it is when the attorney is the instrument of a combination of men-of some monied aristocracy, whose object can not be accomplished without him. Here it is fair to inquire, why should the attorney, who labours in his vocation without trick or oppression, be branded with crime, and the men who employ him escape imputation? Is it because the hand which wields the dagger is concealed, and because the instrument of wrong alone is palpable to feeling and to sight? We have heard that