["Dark as was chaos ere the infant Sun Was rolled together, or had tried his beams Athwart the gulf profound." Blair's Grave.]

Demetrius is missing: his troops are in great distress, being distractedly in love with him.

"They love Demetrius, first for Brono's sake, Then for his own tried worth; and such their

love,

Had they a conquer'd world to share, the world And all their lives they'd gladly give, to catch One distant glimpse of their heroic chief."

We now come to one of the most touching scenes in the whole work, in which the poet appears to have centred all his powers over the pathetic and pathetically descriptive. Demetrius had gone far beyond the city gates in pursuit of Mamay; and, it "being so dark, Hal, that thou couldst not see thy hand before thee," he and his gallant steed fell into "a deepsunk treacherous chasm." As several pages are occupied in the biography of this wonderful steed, we cannot conveniently indulge the reader with the whole: he must however be gratified with a part.

Six circling years have now elaps'd, since first
This noble animal sprang into life
Beneath Arabia's happiest Heaven. Far-fam'd
Bucephalus, that Persia's conqu'ror serv'd,
Nor ever to another mortal bent

The stubborn knee, was the reputed sire,
Whose blood, from race to race transmitted pure,
Now mantled in his veins. In tender youth,
While yet disporting with his anxious dam,
He was the glory of the choicest stud,
The pride of the surrounding fields. When time
Gave matchless grace and beauty to his form,
Resistless vigour to his pliant limbs,

And wing'd his feet with tempest's speed, he liv'd

In Palaces, with princes lodg'd and fed,
And by the hands of royal maids caress'd,
A mighty Queen his earliest prowess tried."

This queen, with this steed, long fought Mamay. She was ordered, in a vision, to renounce paganism, turn Christian, be baptized, and look to Kazan for a husband. She married Brono: was some

time after taken sick, and died one day.

To Brono,

With ecstacy of joy, he gave himself
To Moskow's prince, the heir of Brono's fame."

The genealogy and services of this quadruped hero are related with great spirit, and much pathos. Caligula's horse fared not more sumptuously; nor was he carest by maids; nor his "prowess tried" "transmitby a queen. His blood being ted pure" from the time of Alexander, it is reasonable to suppose, that his ancestors were all educated with their natural masculine powers, and that he was now in his natural state. The queen, it appears, bestowed on him her own name to save it from oblivion: if we rightly read the meaning of the poet-" her own farsounding name, else quite extinguished.” Recovered from the shock occasioned by the fall, the prince seeks

"His fellow in distress. He hears him nigh Breathe heavy, feels his noble neck bedew'd With life's warm copious stream."

The blood-letting proves beneficial, and metrius fears to raise the steed lest he saves the expense of a horse doctor. Deshould have another tumble in the dark.

therefore

"With gentle hand he lifts the patient's head,
And pillows it upon his royal knee,
Waiting day's dawning light: and when soft
sleep

Fearing to break his master's rest, lay still,
Stole on his weary sense, the grateful steed,
Quiescent, as if life forsook his limbs."

There's a horse for you: unlike

"Such as now live in these degen'rate days:""

the best bred, most accomplished and tender hearted, as well as, at proper times, steel-hearted, that ever was celebrated in song, humble or heroic.-In the morning and his princely steed. Arcas finds, one or both asleep, the prince

We are now informed from what cause Mamay had run away from Demetrius. Many years before, Mamay, having plunblack gigantic armour." Whoever wore dered Samarkand, took thence "a suit of it was to show no mercy to the foe. He needed to fear none living: but must beware of one

"That died But lives again, and rides a milk-white steed."

Mamay had supposed Demetrius dead: seeing him alive and on a milk-white steed, he was quite nonplussed; like Macbeth when informed that Macduff "was from his mother's womb untimely ript.”— The battle is renewed in the morning.

Demetrius performs wonders: makes a road through foes, which is soon covered by the enemy, and he left unsupported. He sees Arcas dismounted: flies to his relief; takes him from the ground; puts him behind on Zormandel, who bears them, double-jaded, with pride and pleasure, from dreadful dangers; "Gen'rous unrivalled steed"!-A terrible force is at hand, that puts all into a horrible quandary of trepidation, excepting Demetrius and Zormandel:

"Zormandel, in whose looks Dumb nature spoke most eloquent, appear'd Full conscious of the danger, well prepar'd Not to survive his lord."

A very sensible and fellow-feeling horse: Heaven grant he may be preserved and be the sire of an unextinguishable offspring. Fortunately, instead of enemies, the new troops were a body commanded by Osmond, who, like Achilles, had retired from the war for a season.-Mamay is confident of victory, believing Osmond's troops to be his own. He is, however, soon undeceived, and perceives that he has but the fragment of an army, his forces changing sides.

"His hopes, his choicest strength, were swept away.

The sever'd rear a viper's palsied tail,
Cut off and bruised, was all he now possess'd."

This comparison is excellent: the second instance of genuine poetry in the work; and, being in the penultimate page, we despair of finding another.

Mamay's troops are totally defeated. We close with the poet's last words.

"Of all the Tartar Horde, its savage chief Remains alone. Not e'en [ev'n] a satellite Is left, since all were one by one dispatch'd To various posts of danger, where they lie The food of Vultures. Tears of blood distain The tyrant's cheeks. He gnash'd his teeth, and beat

His head against the rocks. He gnaw'd his flesh, With rage convulsive foam'd, and in the dust Wild bellowing roll'd. At length with sudden

start

"His own

Shall

158.

"Where Slavia's children are nurs'd in the lap." 167.

"But thou shalt fall, never, never to rise." 207. "Then from his quiv'r the foremost arrow draws." 219.

There are many instances of faulty grammar-"Ill suits me"-for-It i suits me. p. 38-" Allow us pursue our own." 49.- -"If father sleep within thee.” 57.-" That sigh was [the] last." 67."The eye of [the] multitude." 102.

"Thy joys,

Though differ in degree, are yet alike." 122. "Thou wert [wast] alarmed." 135.—“By moon's pale's torch." 156.-" Where Carbon and the Nitre mix." 201.-We are, however, rather surprised that there are no more instances of incorrectness of this kind, the author being a foreigner.

As observed by Mr. Eustaphieve the fable may with propriety be discontinued, or extended to another volume. The approbation or disapprobation of the public may determine him whether or not to proceed. We fear self-love, too high an estimation of his talents, and the civility of friends, may induce him to continue the werk. To construct verses in rhyme requires only the application of certain rules: blank verse is of more easy execution. It is merely mechanical: and Mr. Eustaphieve has mistaken this power of cutting iron knitting needles of suitable length, for that of gathering golden ore in the mines of intellect. He has mistaken the material part, the body of poetry, for the soul. He may however console himself with the reflection that he has greatly failed in a great attempt; and will have a great many companions to sympathize with him in his fall.

Pr

HERE is another of honest John Bull's

historians, who sets out with a preface of professions about "studiously aiming at the strictness of truth," and having "no sinister motives for reproach or animadversion.” Indeed, he has no doubt, that, as he is going to be." as heroic as a mule" in maintaining the truth, he shall bring the whole hive of cotemporary authors about his ears; yet, relying upon his own fearless independence and spotless veracity, "he is emboldened to tread the arena of politics, and to defy the censures of prejudice and malignity." He was perfectly safe in so doing; for, so far as our own knowledge extends, no person has thought it worth while to take up his arguments, or interrupt his stories; and we suppose he might go on to " tread the arena" and "defy" mankind till doom'sday, without the least fear of an encounter.

Yet many may read his book, though none will take the trouble to censure it. A book always acquires value by importation; and, as we Americans are ever anxious to hear what Europeans say about us, our readers may be amused with an extract or two from the chapters of this courageous historian.

It was to have been expected that, when the animosities between this country and Great Britain had found time to subside, the English writers would begin to have some little regard for truth; and that those especially who should undertake to compose a sober history of our transactions, would seek information in other sources than the polluted columns of ministerial newspapers. But experience only confirms the saying of Lord Lyttleton about his own countrymen: "It is a rule with the English, that they see no good in a man (or a nation) whose politics they dislike."* This champion of truth and defier of malignity has incorporated into a serious volume of -history-which he tacks to a more celebrated work in order to ensure its permanency-all the malicious falsehoods which have been bandied about in the English gazettes, and refuted in the American, any time these seven years. We venture to say, that a man shall read through the book; and, on being interrogated as to the part which relates to America, he will not distinctly remember any thing

* Dialogues of the Dead, No. XIV.

but the surrender of Hull, the capture of

the Chesapeake, and the irruption into Washington. Thus, for instance, the capture of the Guerriere, the Macedonian, and the Java, are slurred over in the table of contents as "maritime engagements;" while the affair of the Chesapeake stands out by itself, as the "engagement between the Shannon and the Chesapeake.” The three former battles occupy just three sentences; the latter takes up a paragraph alone.

"The Americans (says the generous man) were frequently successful in actions with single ships. Their vessels were built on a much larger scale than British vessels of the same dimensions: in weight of metal, and in the amount of seamen, they are nearly equal to our ships of the line; and it may be added, not only that many of the men were natives of Britain or Ireland, but that, from the small number of the national fleet, it was far less difficult to fill the ships with experienced seamen than for the portioned to its uncommon extent. The English navy to provide a complement proGuerriere was so severely treated, in an engagement with the Constitution, from the causes which have been stated, that it became an unmanageable wreck;' and the killed and wounded almost quadrupled the number of republicans who suffered from the collision. A contest between the Macedonian and a frigate called the United States, had a similar termination, and the attendant loss was much greater. The Java was also captured, with a considerable loss of its brave defenders."-p. 392-3.

It appears to us, that we have heard of a frigate called the United States;" and, if we mistake not, she was a “bunch of pine boards" before the English had scraped acquaintance with her. She became a line of battle ship very speedily after she had flogged the Macedonian. As to a " collision" which the "republicans" had with the Guerriere, we are total strangers; and, if there was ever a "similar termination and a greater attendant loss," with any other frigate, we know nothing of the matter. All we can say is, that a collision between a certain frigate, called the Chesapeake, and a certain other frigate, ycleped the Shannon, is here detailed at full length. We now hear of the

-"glory which the British marine acquired in an engagement near the port of Boston. Broke, commander of the Shannon, having

long watched the Chesapeake frigate, beheld with joy its approach to action. He had only 330 against 440; and, in the weight of metal, the enemy had great advantage (wherefore he rejoiced and was glad): but no consideration of hostile superiority could discourage his men, who, after a short firing, boarded the American ship, and subdued all opposition. Seventy-nine were killed or wounded in the Shannon, and one hundred and seventy in the Chesapeake. Captain Broke, who first leaped into the vessel, received great personal injury; and Lawrence, the republican commander, died of his wounds."-p. 453.

The petty skirmish on lake Erie was one of those actions with " single ships," we suppose, in which the "hostile superiority" of us villainous republicans was somewhat successful. Yet a stranger would hardly know that the battle had ever been fought, if he should never read any thing but the account of this LL. D. "Some naval engagements (it is said) occurred on the lakes. On that of Ontario, Sir James Yeo could not effectually prevail over Captain Chauncey; and, on lake Erie (it might be worth while just to mention en passant), Barclay found an able opponent in Perry, with whose squadron (of single ships,' mind) he had a close conflict. Each attributed to the opposing commodore a superiority of force; but it does not appear that the disparity was considerable. The chief American vessel, though disabled, was not captured, because the Canadians were too fully employed (they had business enough, it is true) to take advantage of this apparent surrender. When both parties had sustained a severe loss, five British vessels, of which only two were dignified with the appellation of ships, fell into the power of the enemy."-p. 452.

Sir James Yeo did take most effectual measures to "prevail over Captain Chauncey;" who-the skittish republican--went scudding about lake Ontario, as he well knows, with the bold Sir Knight at his stern. It was villainous of Captain Chauncey! Barclay, it seems, had a "close conflict" with Perry; but, as the Ameri⚫ can vessels were manned with "natives of Britain and Ireland," it is no wonder they flogged the "natives of Britain and Ireland" on board the British. As to any affair which might have taken place on lake Champlain, it is unworthy of particular mention; being, as it was in very deed, only a collision between some boats which got together; and, after spanking and spattering each other for a time,

agreed not to play any more. That huge vessel which now lies at Whitehall is merely a fabrication out of an American "bunch of pine boards;" for these republicans are always cheating the people with seventy-fours in disguise. This is the spirit, though not the precise language of this impartial chronicler. But we could not make more light of the affair than Doctor Coote does.

above 10,000 men, marched into the terri"Sir George Prevost, (says he) with tory of New-York; and, while he meditated an attack upon Plattsburg, near lake Champlain, trusted to the effective co-operation of a small squadron commanded by life at the commencement of the action, Captain Downie: but this offic lost his and all the vessels were taken; and, when the troops, after a fierce cannonade and bombardment, were advancing to the assault, they were recalled by the general, although the garrison scarcely exceeded the amount of 1500 men."-p. 490.

In fine, the reader will find in this volume a tolerably detailed account of every action in which the English were victorious, with a casual mention of such as turned against them; nor are the latter ever alluded to, without telling us, immediately after, how we were flogged in some other place to make it up. We shall close our extracts with the account of the siege of New-Orleans.

"An attempt was made for the reductio of New-Orleans. In assaulting the lines formed for the defence of the town, Major General Packingham lost his life; and the resistance was so serious and resolute, that, although Colonel Thornton had forced a strong position on the other side of the Mississippi, the enterprise was abandoned. Fort Mobile, however, was attacked in the sequel, and taken with small loss."-p. 490.

"Thou art a very simplicity man: I prithee peacc." Our readers will observe, that we have not attempted any serious refutation of the falsehoods which these extracts contain. They have been refuted often enough before; and the only way left for us Americans is, to bring up every Coote of this sort-laugh at himand let him go. They can do us little hurt; and the devices to which they resort to cover up their disgraces, will, in the eyes of all the world, be the very means to expose them the more. In the mean time, let us look to ourselves. Who continued Ramsay's History of the United States?

P. II.

majesty of his march, and the unsullied

N touching on the splendid and anitemplation in the little volume before us, we scarcely have an eye to its merits as a literary composition. We feel a loftier impulse working within us, and kindling our faculties, than any, which as mere critics, we could experience. We are not analysing with minute and rigid circumspection the structure of a sentence, or the justness of an observation: we are not dispersing the mists of fanaticism, nor engaged in the more odious task of unmasking the demon of infidelity. Our imagination, indeed, is actively employed but in a sphere infinitely more glorious, and abounding in objects inexpressibly more exciting than the fairest and brightest creations of the muse. We are not languishing over a finely-told series of imaginary sorrows, nor glowing with a vain and vague delight through scenes of visionary rapture.-No!--the subject of our discussion, rich as it is in pictures both of the most distressful and transporting description, borrows none of its interest from mere fancy;-suffering, intense human suffering-the groans and the agonies, the triumphs and, devoutly do we trust, the approaching liberation of millions, starting from the long and heavy sleep of a slavery that threatened to be immortal; the speedy expulsion of every hostile foreign foot from this great western world; the establishment throughout its regions of a pure and rational liberty; the progress of civilization, arts, commerce, and refinement; the desert itself bursting forth into bloom and verdure, beneath the footsteps of a power who, though she may be born in the mountains, will not refuse her presence to the plain and the valley; the spectacle about to be afforded to the human race of an entire continent, or rather two continents, uot merely existing under a republican form of government, but flourishing under its auspices in a degree, and with a rapidity which, but for one illustrious example, might have been deemed unattainable even by the most sanguine philanthropist ;-the greatness of the sacrifice, the immensity of the benefit; the new and glorious lights in which the character and capabilities of man will shine out in the consequences of this momentous revolution; the steadiness, the

new and magnificent dispensation, are ali combined in one grand tableau, to which moral considerations attach an interest of a deeper and more dignified nature, than can possibly be raised by fiction, however pathetic in detail, or glowing with passion.

We shall precede our observations upon the great and eventful struggle of the South-Americans with the mother-country, by a brief view of the vast and interesting regions which have witnessed the contest, regions which nature seems to have been solicitous in endowing with her choicest gifts of utility and beauty, and destined to become the seats of that knowledge, refinement, and liberty, which the present state of Europe threatens to exile from their ancient abodes.

The southern, like the northern continent of America, bears but a slender affinity, either in its form or its products, to the old world, where, however the defects and comparative parsimony of nature have been redeemed by the genius and perseverance of her inhabitants in a manner that proves to what a pitch of grandeur the human character may attain, in despite of all the evils produced by governments, varying only in the degrees of their noxiousness. Scarcely a league of its coast that is not intersected by some navigable stream; the interior of the country is irrigated by innumerable rivers, and half the fleets of the globe might congregate on the waters of the Oronoco or La Plata. Bays and convenient harbours abound along the whole of the littorale, and the enterprising spirit of a free people, in connecting by a canal, or a system of canals, the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, might change the face of the world. The Andes, the Alps of SouthAmerica, stretch on each side of the equator through nearly 60 degrees of latitude.

The divisions of this immense chain, however, vary considerably in their height, being occasionally not more than 600 feet above the level of the sea, and at certain points towering to an elevation of almost four miles from their base. Of these the gigantic Chimborazo appears to be the chief, the height to which it as cends, being equal to the united elevations of Etna and the Peak of Teneriffe.