Travels and Researches of Eminent English Missionaries. By Andrew Picken. The author of this little volume has collected much curious information relative to the isles of the Pacific, and the other far-off regions to which the olive-branch has been borne by missionaries from Great Britain. But his plan has been by far too confined; he has consulted but a few, and these the more recent, authorities; his book, therefore, is by no means satisfactory, except to those who have read but little upon such subjects-to such, however, it will prove an agreeable acquisition, and to such we can safely recommend it. The Servants' Guide and Family Manual, forming a complete System of Domestic Management. This little volume contains much useful information upon every subject in which a domestic servant ought to be well versed. From the housekeeper to the scullery.maid, and from the butler to the groom, advice, cantions, receipts, and general hints, are given to each and all. They are written in a plain and sensible manner, and appear, as far as we are able to judge, the results of practical experience. To the master and mistress, as well as to those whose duties are of a more humble nature, the book may be strongly recommended. It is one from which the high and low may derive much benefit, and should find a place in the kitchen or servant's hall of those who desire to blend comfort with elegance, and prudence with luxury. The Death Wake, or Lunacy, a Necromaunt, in Three Chimeras. By Thomas T. Stoddart. a The very title-page of this work is in itself sufficient to puzzle any ordinary critic. A Necromaunt in three Chimeras! We are sorry to observe the same affectation which distinguishes the first, but too prevalent throughout the subsequent pages of the poem; it is written after the style of Chapman, Keates, Shelley, &c. and contains liberal share of the faults, together with many of the beauties peculiar to that school. We would remind the author, that inflated diction is not sublimity, nor extravagance imagination. These defects, to a certain extent, may be sometimes the concomitants of genius, but they certainly do not constitute its essential principle. We should be sorry, however, to discourage a young poet, for such we presume Mr. Stoddart to be, in his first attempt; and with a better subject, and a more judicious management of it, we shall be happy, nay anxious, to meet with him again. There is that about him which cannot be passed by with indifference; he has the thews and sinews of a nan, let him put himself under skilful and proper training, nor suffer his natural strength to lessen and decay under the influence of such deities as it would seem he has selected for worship. Essay on Superstition. By W. Newnham, Esq. of Farnham. An Essay, rather, on ghosts, and there will soon not be one left among us; one thrust on the back of another, first with one weapon and then with another, is putting them all fast to the rout. Dr. Feb. VOL. XXXIII. NO. CXXII. Hibbert's was a formidable attack, but his metaphysics puzzled every body, and his occasional levity revolted some. His opponent was perhaps something too grave, and certainly too fond of fighting, but he, too, in overshooting his mark, gave a returning blow; his aim was to get rid altogether of the idea that an apparition might be an allusion, and by thus aiming at more than he could accomplish, did but second the doctor's views. Sir Walter Scott's is a popular essay, and so far as it is not, is wholly built upon Hibbert's physiology. It is, of course, as every one anticipated, full of matter at once amusing and instructive; the result of his researches in books, and the ready communications of his numerous friends. Mr. Newnham is a medical man, and also a serious man; professionally he concurs with Dr. Hibbert, but wisely eschews his metaphysics. He does not, of course, as a believer in revelation, affirm there never were any ghosts, he only denies that such things are. When there were ghosts, there were miracles; but miracles are over-ergo there are then no more ghosts. This specimen of his logic will satisfy only the devout. It, however, apparently removes an obstacle, and the author uses it. But he makes a stronger case, both as a moralist and as a professional man. He traces superstitious belief to ignorance, and the facts of apparitions to disease. The brain is the organ of the soul, neither more nor less; it is the instrument by which she manifests herself. If it be stunned by a blow, it is rendered incapable, for the time, of performing this office if it be diseased, it performs the same function imperfectly or corruptly. The soul, mind, thought, use which term we will, is an unchangeable essence-one man's is like another's, as good as another's; the apparent differences spring from the organ; the fool or the madman is as the sage, but the instrument may be different, by original defect, or subsequent disease. Remedial measures, then, in what are commonly termed mental affections, must be directed not to the spiritual principle, which is not diseased, but to its organ, which is to the brain, that is, or some of its sympathies, for scarcely is there any portion of the body with which it does not sympathise, or along with which it is not affected. This is not materialism-they are in fact materialists who consider the disorders of the brain as mental, "for then," says Mr. Newnham, acutely enough, "the brain must be the mind itself, and not simply its organ." As a medical man, Mr. Newnham finds the brain-a physical thing-physically affected, whilst, as a religious professor, he believes the soul, as a spiritual thing, is inaccessible to physical affections, and unsusceptible of disease, except in a certain theological sense, and then the remedy is prescribed by other means. If the stomach, or the liver, or the lungs, be diseased, the terms employed direct the attention at once to the suffering viscus; but, by a strange misnomer, when the brain is "touched," we talk forthwith of mental affections, which turns the attention from the brain, while, in fact, that is the part or organ affected, and which requires the remedial measures. The author, a man of experience in his profession, addresses himself earnestly to an exposure of the phenomena attending the morbid action of the brain and its sympathies, and especially to all its ascertained influence of such disordered action, K on the manifestations of the mind, in every de gree of hallucination. Numerous cases, falling under his own experience, are recorded, and many of the popular tales are carefully examined, and accounted for as illusions. The disturbances of the cerebral system, it is well ascertained, does occasion such a state as produces apparitions. To this state many supposed supernatural visitations have been satisfactorily traced. It follows not that it must be so in every case, or that there can be no ghosts; but the presumption is strong against them, when it is ascertained, beyond all doubt, that a diseased function will give birth to apparitions. But, granting its possibility, "the question will then be," says Mr. Newnham, in terms characteristic of the general tone of his book, " if, in some cases, these supposed supernatural appearances are to be accounted for on physical principles, who is to deny that the same origin may be applicable to all others? Who is to decide as to what is sensorial illusion, and what is spiritual and snpernatural agency? And then, is it not then better, more rational, more christian, to take up an hypothesis which explains many of the phenomena, and reconciles many difficulties, and vindicates the moral government of the Almighty, and is supported by the most powerful arguments and experience, than to adopt another mode of explanation which assumes every thing, but defines and explains nothing; which is involved in inextricable difficulty; which throws a cloud over the government of the Omnipotent; which is opposed to reason, and is not sanctioned by experience?" his dismissal; and, at length, Ibrahim, instead of impaling him, caused his baggage to be thrown out into the middle of the street, in a pet, which the Doctor gathered up, and, pocketing the affront, got on board a small Austrian schooner, and escaped to Smyrna. In the course of his service, he met with most of the characters, whose names are distinguished in the war of independence. The following is the account of the death of Lord Charles Murray, a disinterested enthusiast in the cause of Greece. He was so anxious to report to Mavrocordato the result of a mission he had undertaken to Anapoli, that he insisted on travelling during the heat of the day, and was struck with a coup de soleil. He fell into the hands of a Cephaloniote quack, who gave him an emetic, instead of bleeding him, and when our author visited him, he was in such a state, that it was found impossible to rouse him, and he expired in an hour. He was so disin terested and careless of his own comforts, that nothing was found in his portmanteau but a couple of shirts, a pantaloon, a few stockings, a Bible, and a prayer-book, one dollar, and some specimens of mineralogy. He had given away every thing else he possessed to the destitute Philhel lenes. The information the author gives is not always very accurate. Among other mistakes, he calls Dr. Kennedy, who conversed with Lord Byron on religious subjects, Dr. Knox! Captive of Fez; a Poem. By Thomas Aird. A poem in the old heroic couplet, more than double the length of the Corsair, ought to be very beautiful to become very popular. We must do the author the justice to say, that if it was impossible to confine his imaginings within narrower bounds than five cantos, he has done all in his power to make the quality of his verse an expiation for its Memoirs of the Affairs of Greece, with an Account of the Military and Political Events which occurred in 1823 and following Years, with various Anecdotes of Lord Byron, and an Account of his last Illness. By Julius Millingen, Surgeon to the Byron Brigade at Missolonghi, and to the Greek Army in quantity. There is an appropriate mixture of Western Greece, &c. Mr. Millingen was one of the medical gentlemen sent out by the Greek Committee in 1823, to supply a deficiency severely felt the year before, when many of the sick and wounded perished for want of timely assistance. He arrived at Cephalonia in November of that year, where he met Lord Byron; proceeded from thence to Missolonghi, was appointed surgeon in chief to the Greek army, and continued with them till the fall of Neocastro in 1825. He then fell into the hands of the Arabs, and was taken, or, as he says, forced into the service of Ibrahim Pasha, and was charged by the Greeks with having "basely deserted, for the sake of better pay, the banner of the Cross for that of the Crescent." One of his motives for writing this book was to repel this calumny; and he founds his justification on the eagerness with which he endeavoured to escape from him. Application was made by his father to Mr. Canning, who informed him laconically, that the protection of his Majesty's Government could not be extended to British subjects, engaging in foreign service, against an Act of Parliament. He then himself applied to Ibrahim, who informed him in reply, that he might impale him before the gates of Navarino, if he pleased. In this comfortable state he continued, but still pressing for gloom and splendour in the manner in which Moorish character and scenery is described. Many of the incidents are picturesque and interesting. Julian is as heroic as unhappy. The fair Italian is a fine composition of radiant loveliness, fiery passion, and implacable resentment. To attempt an outline of the story would be to lessen the gratification of the reader. The Moorish Queen, and other Poems. By Miss Snowden. The fair authoress has a brilliant vocabulary, an active fancy, and some knowledge of the art of manufacturing a poem. We think she is unhappy in the stanza she has invented for her own use; innovations of this kind are rash. They require the hand of a more skilful mistress of the lyre. But we do not mean to be harsh. The tale of Granada is rather above than below the average of the poetry of the day. Some of the minor pieces are pretty. The Life and Correspondence of the late Admiral Lord Rodney. By Major-General Mundy. 2 vols. This work, although possessing fewer attractions for the general reader than its very popular predecessor, the "Memoirs and Correspondence 2 of Lord Collingwood," is by no means barren of them. Lord Rodney's public character is sufficiently well-known and appreciated. He was one of that band of able and successful commanders whose exertions have long since acquired for the naval force of Great Britain the reputation of being invincible. To obtain a more intimate acquaintance with the lives of such men, than can be gained by the perusal of Gazettes and Chronologies, is a natural and commendable desire on the part of their fellow-countrymen. The information conveyed by these volumes, relative to the private history of Lord Rodney, is somewhat sparingly given, and, therefore, the interest excited is not of an engrossing kind. In reading the "Life of Nelson," by Southey, we feel as if every act of the man, as well as of the hero, and every vicissitude of his fortunes, were a matter of importance to ourselves. Not so in the present instance. No portion, perhaps, of the biography alluded to is more captivating than the earlier chapters, which treat of the boyish days of the future victor at the Nile and Trafalgar, because the reader traces in the youth indications of qualities which were fated at a subsequent period to exalt the man to rank and fame. This work depicts no part of Rodney's boyhood, nor does it mention a single incident illustrative of his youth ful character and disposition. Rodney went to sea at twelve years of age, and died in his seventy. fourth year. The intervening period was spent, with very few intervals, in active service. Like many others, whose lives have been devoted to their country, his circumstances were the reverse of affluent. The Correspondence, of which the work under notice chiefly consists, confirms his biographer's account of him at the end of the second volume. He is there described to have been, although a disciplinarian, generous, humane, and affectionate. He displayed decision in adopting measures, and energy in carrying them into execution: qualities which are essential to the efficiency of commanding officers, and which have exalted to the pinnacle of celebrity the first warrior of our age. Like him, Rodney was averse from holding councils of war, and, almost without exception, acted, in cases of emergency, according to the dic. tates of his own unassisted judginent, and on his sole responsibility. Among his correspondents were Lords Sandwich and North, and Admirals Hood and Parker. The collection contains three or four letters from the Comte de Grasse, over whom he obtained his brilliant and important victory on the 12th of April, 1782. On the whole, General Mundy's work is an interesting addition to a class of publications that has generally obtained favour with the public. The Sea Kings. By the Author of the Fall of Nineveh. 3 vols. Mr. Atherstone's poetical productions are of that class of books that are very much admired and very little read; he is now canvassing for readers in prose. From epic poems to novels is a pretty wide sweep; but he is at all events more likely to get, what, we presume, every writer thirsts after, popularity, in the one than in the other. The most persevering songster must be tired of singing perpetually, when the world is evidently indisposed to listen. The critic might say to Mr. Atherstone, as the feathered satirist said in the fable to the lark-"Do you soar so very high, in order that you may not be heard ?" One of this writer's faults is a fondness for the remote and the obscure. This feeling has carried him, in "The Sea Kings," to the days of Alfred, where, besides Alfred himself, there is little to invite us to accompany him. Alfred, however, is much; and Mr. Atherstone has given an able and enthusiastic answer to the historians who have attempted to cast a shadow upon the golden lustre of that noblest of kings. These volumes give a glowing picture of the times, and contain many passages, and those of considerable length, that are valuable both in a poetical and historical sense. They seem also to have been carefully written, as regards the costume, manners, and habits of the period; and where the author has been obliged to guess at the truth, he guesses with judgment. But in spite of all this, and the occasional appearance of Alfred upon the scene, the tale to us lacks interest both in matter and manner. Of the Danish chieftains the sea-kings themselves, we should be satisfied with a bare and brief description- surrounded as they are by various other persons, who would be more interesting in the eyes of the antiquarian than the novel reader. Edmund, the hero of the book, is better; he is the nephew of Alfred, who, his relationship being unknown, is exposed to a variety of vicissitudes; but who is ultimately recognised and rewarded, on the field of a great battle fought with Guthrun, the defeat of whom leaves Alfred in possession of the kingdom of Wessex. Edmund has at least the usual portion of valour, and as much love as falls to the share of any of the sighing youths of more modern romance; but he is more agreeable, because more humanized, than many of his contemporary warriors. We would not have Mr. Atherstone despair, because his novel is not full of interest. If he has mistaken his forte all this while, he cannot expect to find his way to it at once. Every great comedian that we hear of commences his career in tragedy; and, if the rule holds good in literature, as it often does, Mr. Atherstone may yet live to amuse the world with light reading, and airy, fanciful, and enlivening sketches, both Dutch and Danish. Hogarth Moralized. Part I. completed in four quarterly parts.) (To be The inspection we have given to this first fourth of a cabinet edition of our pre-eminently English artist, has fully disposed us to commehd the undertaking. It forms one quarter of a little world of entertainment. On the excellence of the subjects themselves, familiar as they are to the eyes, understandings, and hearts of all, it were needless to expatiate. They are here presented in a style of neat, clear, and effective engraving; in a compass of inviting portability, and at a cost producible from thousands of pockets; with the accompaniment, too, of a running commentary (Dr. Trusler's), that will assist the possessor to extend his reflections, and will acquaint him with those particular facts of the day on which the great painter has constructed some of his scenes for all time. DRURY-LANE THEATRE. THE DRAMA. We have so often felt obliged, during the twelve years of our critical labours in this obscure portion of a famous Magazine, to express a reluctant dissent from the holiday raptures of our brethren on the subject of Pantomimes, that we cannot feel it necessary now to repeat unwelcome truths. Rather let us sink into a gentle dotage; let our second critical childhood be not unchildish; let us try to fancy Harlequin and Columbine, gay creatures of a happy element "that in the colours of the rainbow live and play in the plighted clouds" regard Pantaloon as "a most potent, grave, and reverend signior," because he is not quite so feeble or so old as we are and wink, with drowsy eyes, at the rogueries of the Clown, as too palpable to deceive philosophers of our standing in life! Peace-no, not peace, but pleasure then be within the party-coloured jacket; joy float with the spangled petticoat; and young fancy glide like the gossamer on welldissembled clouds, and be dazzled and lost amidst the radiant columns of aërial or submarine palaces! If the pantomime at this house is not the merriest we have seen, it is (we have often said so of Stanfield's works, but now we say so "positively for the last time") the most full of beautiful pictures. The Diorama-or rather Dioramas for it is really ten exquisite scenes in one, is a treat to the eye and imagination, far beyond any pictorial exhibition, be it called Panorama, Diorama, or Colosseum, in London. It represents with surprising vividness, and we are assured by those who are familiar with the mighty scenes it copies, with extraordinary truth-the great pass of the Simplon, from the first ascent of the Alps, along that immortal monument of ill-fated genius, to the neighbourhood of their loftiest summits, and thence into the luxurious valleys of Italy, sleeping in de light and sunshine. Except that a succession of pictures, passing before the eye, cannot give the sense of ascending, we could believe ourselves making that glorious journey, elevated, not oppressed, by the grandeurs of Nature, because the else overpowering sense of her dumb and massive majesty, is itself overpowered by the impress of him who was able to master it. There too, in one of the galleries, cloven at his bidding through the hugest rock, is the form of that master of the scene-judiciously copied in attitude from Mr. Haydon's noble picture, so affecting in its simplicity -which so placed in such a scene, speaks more than a thousand homilies. Besides these pictures, the pantomime may boast two or three good hits-though it does not glide away as the glittering stream of fancy and fun did, or is supposed to have done in years that are gone; for the praise of pantomime is always in the past; its admirers "never are, but always have been blest." Still it is good, when warm and dry, to look into the depths of the sea, and watch the catching of a mermaid; there to observe the whole of the traitorous seduction; -the gentleman bobbing above in his boat; the bait dangling below; the poor sea-nymph, coy and catchable, like an earthly damsel, coquetting with her fate; and at last fairly hooked and pulled up by the daring fisher; all this is surely moral as well as entertaining. Nor can we forget the nursery for pet children; which, from a scene of innocent beds and cradles, becomes all alive with naughty babies in night-gowns-and is especially enlivened by the pranks of one huge infant, inimitably played by young Wieland, whose sturdy self-will marks him of noble, if not royal, lineage. The cottage ornée, suddenly built in with thriving shops, is also a piece of melancholy truth, very cleverly executed; and, indeed, as was once said of Mr. Elliston's Macbeth, at the Surrey, that it had every thing of Shakspeare but the words, so we may praise this as a perfect pantomime, wanting only the humour and the dancing. The Pantomime, or rather the Diorama, has been so successful as to absolve the managers from the duty of producing any novelty, up to the period of the month whence our little survey is taken. But we have had that, which is to us far better than any novelty, our old friend Rob Roy, the heroic robber, acted by Macready as nobly as when he stepped into this part from the bondage of dungeon-villainy, in which his energies had been cabined, as into the fresh mountain air of romance. His step is as light and buoyant, his tones as deep and as cordial; he has the same elasticity and graceful, yet untheatrical movement, which charmed us then. We marvel, considering how much tragedy he has acted since, the weight of how many heavy griefs and heavier declamations he has borne, that this delightful performance is thus unspoiled. "The power of the hills" is on it still. It is, no doubt, a refinement on the character in the novel; but it has an individuality and truth of its own; and its grace and tenderness, if alien to the habits of the outlaw, are felt to be akin to the glorious scenery among which he wandered; and the breakings out of his fatherly love come home to the heart of every parent. With the exception of Liston's Baillie, which wanted the body it once had, the other principal parts were indifferently played; but the dance in the third act, after Rob's unlooked-for escape, had an exuberance of joy in it, which stage dances have rarely breathed, and of which we must do the young Macgregors the justice to say they seemed to be the inspirers. COVENT-GARDEN THEATRE. We have but little to say of the Pantomime at this house, for the hand of Stanfield and the form of Napoleon are not here -neither is there a legitimate nursery to excite the envy of the children. It is, we believe, an average Pantomime; and like all the Pantomimes at this house, deserves the old eulogy which Mr. Canning was wont to pass on the corruptions which he gilded with his tinsel, that it "works well." The machinery here always does its duty. But the delightful Christmas treat at this house, worth a hundred pantomimes, is Cinderella, in which the story is, or should be familiar to every child's recollection, and the changes are so many bright miracles. Miss Inverarity also triumphs still in the suffering and triumphant heroine; and though we cannot think her yet approaching Miss Paton in richness or volume, is immeasurably superior to all other songstresses at this or the other house; and may be the Stephens of the rising generation, though never comparable to our own! The part of Bianca in Mr. Milman's tragedy of Fazio has been judiciously chosen for Miss Kemble's performances, during the preparation of Miss Mitford's new tragedy, in which, if we are rightly informed, she has a higher and a more arduous character to study. Nearly all the actions for which Fazio gives opportunity, belong to the heroine; for, good or ill, she is the spirit of the piece; and, as soon as its business really begins, she does all that is to be done, while others have only to declaim or suffer. Her's is hard, up-hill, repulsive work; but Miss Kemble, with the wise and just daring to which she owes much of her success, sets to it fearlessly and performs it without any attempt at softening or palliation; which is bold and right. With the highest respect for the excellent author of this play, and warm admiration of it as a piece of genuine dramatic poetry, we cannot subscribe to its morality, or sympathize with its persons. Bianca, its heroine, is to us scarcely less hateful than Regan or Goneril a lady, who because her husband sups with a woman whom he had known and loved, before he had the ill-fortune to know and love her, denounces him to the Senatorial policemen of Florence, for an offence which had really done no harm except to the state, and in the spoils of which she had been a contented sharer! From the very first, her love is of the lowest and most selfish order; she treats her husband as her absolute property, and urges her matrimonial claim without mercy" Thou must not see Aldabella; nay, I'm imperative; thou art mine, and shalt not; and again Fazio, my lord Fazio! Before the face of man, mine own, mine all, Before the face of Heaven, Bianca's Fazio, Not Aldabella's! "of and soon to the end of the chapter, without one touch of true nobleness or unselfish regard. She varies the description of absolute property in her husband, as if she were stating the property in an indictment for larceny, first describing the truant as the goods and chattels of the said Bianca;" next, as "of and belonging to the said Bianca;" and again, as "the property of the said Bianca;" but always meaning one and the same thing. One patriotic object, no doubt, the plot accomplishes-that of making us duly conscious of the value of the protection we enjoy from the laws of " this happy country," as the Judges take occasion to instruct our felons, when they sentence them to be transported. Here, a spiteful wife cannot hang her husband. Here, the first question by Mr. Adolphus to the witness, "Madam, are you married to the prisoner?" would have sent the lady home, and ensured a triumphant acquittal. How inadequately have they estimated the wisdom of the rule which makes husband and wife incompetent witnesses in each other's case, who have referred it to the sacredness of the marriage tie, affording too strong a temptation to amiable perjury, or imposing too stern a duty! The truth is, as this play shows, that the real danger is, lest the spirit of revenge should have scope and room for its gratification, and that a divorce sought in vain in the Ecclesiastical Court, should be found at the criminal bar. If the chaste heroine is thus uninviting, the frail one is not more agreeable; for the poet has done equal injustice to both. His Aldabella is as stony as his Bianca is selfish-an unjoyous, unloving monster; a Milwood without a motive; and yet, as hardness of heart is not a crime usually cognizable by Grand Dukes, we do not exactly understand for what offence she is dispatched to a convent from her own ball. Neither class of ladies will, we hope, acknowledge the representation the poet has provided for them; and Bianca seems to suppose all the sex must |