So, Heaven be good to me! I will forgive thee Berk. Were not my right hand fetter'd by the thought In which to steep my soul, no bridegroom ever Lin. He quails, and shuns to look upon my weapon, Berk. Lindesay, and if there were no deeper cause Nin. I charge you both, and in the name of Heaven, Lin. Ask the blue welkin-ask the silver Tay, Since you refer us thus to general fame That Berkeley slew thy brother, the Lord Louis, Lin. Ay, in his halls— In his own halls, good father, that's the word- Berk. Thou say'st I came a guest!-I came a victim, A destined victim, train'd on to the doom His frantic jealousy prepared for me. He fix'd a quarrel on me, and we fought. Can I forget the form that came between us, And perish'd by his sword? 'Twas then I fought For vengeance,-until then I guarded life, But then I sought to take it, and prevail'd. Lin. Wretch thou didst first dishonour to thy victim, Berk. There is a busy fiend tugs at my heart, Forgive me that I caused your brother's death; With which thou taxest me. Lin. Take worse and blacker.-Murderer, adulterer! Berk. Stay but one second-answer but one question.- And by the memory of that murder'd innocent, As our bless'd Lady's spotless. Hear, each saint! Stern ghost of her destroyer!. Wald. (throws back his cowl.) He hears! he hears! Thy spell hath raised the dead. Lin. My brother! and alive! Wald. Alive,-but yet, my Richard, dead to thee. All were renounced, when, with reviving life, Lin. I but sought The True Plan of a Living Temple; or, Man considered in his proper Relation to the Ordinary Occupations and Pursuits of Life. By the Author of the "Morning and Evening Sacrifice," &c. In 3 vols. Edinburgh. Oliver and Boyd. 1830. WERE We to wait till we had fully read and digested this book, before we recommended it to our readers, we should delay much too long to do our part to bring into notice what we distinctly perceive is one of the most important and best executed works of a religious kind which has been produced in our day. It is peculiarly well adapted, too, to meet the errors and illusions prevalent in these times, and which must ever be more or less prevalent, when so high a subject as that of religion intermingles with the weaknesses and infirmities of human nature. It has struck forcibly the eminent author before us, that these errors chiefly arise from men mistaking the object of religion-from fancying to themselves that it was designed to carry their thoughts into indistinct musings on a future state of existence, and not to be the great vivifying principle of all their thoughts and occupations connected with the present life. Men are willing enough, under its influence, to consider themselves as Temples to the Deity, but then they are not Living Temples; there is commonly more of meditation and abstraction, and direct spiritual com- 1 munication, in their notion of the services to be rendered to God, than of a distinct view of the part now given them to act among his creatures; and the great object, accordingly, of this work, is to show the real sphere which religion occupies upon earth-as a system which is throughout practical, and which, while it opens into prospects of existence, of which the present scene is only the foretaste, yet confines all the strenuous efforts and exertions of the human mind to the theatre in which it is now called to be exercised. In accomplishing this important object, we know no author who has gone so deep into the actual condition of human nature, or who sees [They are going off so distinctly what are its capacities, its defects, its obliga Berk. Father, forgive, and let me stand excused Berk. Make then obeisance to the blessed Cross, Wald. (rushing forward.) Madmen, stand!— tions. In other words, we may say, that we know of no religious writer who has marked with so attentive an eye, and traced so accurately, the representations upon this subject, made by Him, who, more than any other teacher, "knew what was in man;" and it is by following out the lessons, and even the most minute hints, given by that Divine Teacher, that this great work has been built up to be what we believe it really is, among the most perfect and comprehensive schemes of Christian ethics which have yet been presented to the world. throughout in so equable and engaging a style. In speculating on the parable of the Talents, the author ob. serves, "The trust committed to each individual in the present life being this, not simply a mean of enjoyment, or a station of repose, but a sphere of active duty which he is required to fill, and by the due fulfilment of which he reaps also the honour and happiness that are competent to his conditionwe are taught, by the language and spirit of the parable, to believe, that a similar rule obtains throughout all those future stages of existence on which we have yet to enter ;that the heaven, for which we are authorized to hope, is not, consequently, a place exempt from all active exertion, but a higher station among those servants of God, who are beautifully described as having always delighted to do his commandments;' and as the kingdom of God is carried forward, throughout all worlds, by the instrumentality of those living agents with whom he has peopled his dominions-and happiness and honour are the prizes of those only who acquit themselves faithfully in their trust—the glorious object proposed to us by Christianity is that of securing, by a due discharge of the duties of our present station, far more efficacious powers of promoting happiness and order,—a loftier station among the countless hosts of the obedient children of God,-a wider view of those grand arrangements, by means of which the vast destinies of the universe are carried forward,--and the consequent enjoyment, in our own cases, of such measures of happiness and glory 'as the eye of man has never seen, nor his ear heard, ncr his imagination is capable of conceiving.' This is a beautiful and captivating idea, which ought to be made familiar to our minds by frequent contemplation of it; for it tends to enlarge immeasurably our conceptions of the extent and invisible are connected, and bound into one perfect system. It affords, also, a fine illustration of the pure and just principles which pervade the moral representations of the Founder of Christianity, and it presents the only idea of our future station in existence, that is fitted to engage the affections of our hearts, and consequently to render our exertions to secure that station persevering and cheerful." The foundation is laid in an explanation of that striking expression so constantly in the mouth of our Saviour, "the kingdom of God," which is here shown to mean his actually existing kingdom, in whatever department of his dominions it may be contemplated-on earth no less than in heaven,—and the subjects of which, wherever they are placed, have their peculiar offices to perform, requiring the full energy of their actual capacities, and not leaving them any supernumerary energies to expend upon objects not within their immediate sphere of action. Were this view thoroughly entered into, how entirely would it cut off most of the speculations out of which systems of divinity have been formed! What room is there, for instance, for speculating on the divine decrees or foreknowledge, or their consistency with the freedom and the morality of human conduct? Why should such books as Jonathan Edwards's ever have been written; and, whatever may be its merit as a piece of philosophical or theological reasoning, of what possible use can the speculations contained in it be to such a being as man? All he is concerned in is, what he feels to be his present condition his position in the scene in which he is now called to act-grandeur of those arrangements by which things visible and the place which he actually fills as a member of the kingdom of God, with all his indelible impressions of responsibility about him, and he has nothing more to do with enquiries respecting the original movements of his spirit, or the rule of its final destination, in filling that position, than in acting his part in any of the simplest offices of human society. In short, a speculation of the kind now mentioned, or of any abstruse nature whatever, has no more connexion with the education of a Christian, than with that of a writer to the signet-probably, indeed, less; because the metaphysical acumen displayed in such investigations might help a person in the power of drawing up inge nious law statements; but it would much more tend to distract his attention from the place which it becomes him to fill in "the kingdom of God," than at all forward him in the proper sentiments with which it is incumbent on The last volume is chiefly composed of notes and illustrations, in which the author comments, with great learning and ability, on the ethical views of the philosophers of antiquity, of the German school, and of this country and in which, with a very amiable spirit, he gives their full share of praise to contemporary writers. There is a peculiar interest, too, in many of the notes, from the familiar insight which they afford into the mind and As a specimen of this kind of sentiments of the author. writing, we think our readers will be yet more interested with the following sentences, which conclude the preface, and which it is impossible they can read without a deep sympathy in following out the speculations and feelings of such a mind as is there indicated: "Of the confidence which the author has in the truth of the principles by which the present work is characterised, and in their subserviency to the best interests of mankind, the reader may judge from the following statement:— "The work was sketched, its principles settled, and the whole plan of their connexion formed, at a time when the author had little expectation that he was again to take an active part in that living scene, the duties of which he has endeavoured to describe; and when, with no view certainly of literary distinction, nor any care about literary honours, but with an earnest desire to ascertain the duty actually assigned to man on earth, he busied himself, -with that deep anxiety which is known only to those who believe themselves to be bidding 'farewell to time,'-in endeavouring to find out what is the object really proposed to man as a subject of the kingdom of God,-and how far he himself had succeeded in acting conformably to that object. him to fill it. The impression, indeed, of any one who reads this book with attention, must be, that the greatest part of what is commonly called Divinity, is nothing more than trifling with the noblest and simplest of all subjects; and that an example is here set of "a style of thought" upon these high conceptions, which ought to be generally aimed at, and without which the universal and pervading character of religion will never be fully comprehended or entered into in the world. It is here traced from its root, through its most minute ramifications in the conduct of life. The work is not, accordingly, a brief one; but it is far from being tedious; and if any readers might be taken in by the form of the book-three neat volumes of the size of Waverley-and by the singularity of the title, to suppose that they had got a modern novel in their hands, they will not, we assure them, feel themselves disappointed, when they find that they have plumped, instead, into the heart of an ethical and religious treatise. views throughout are so elevated, so pious, so simple, and, at "No length of days can ever efface from his mind the the same time, so original, that we can assure them they remembrance of that bright summer noon-made more will scarcely find any reading more delightful; and we bright and infinitely more affecting by the thought, that are ourselves, at this moment, much annoyed in being such brightness might be seen but for a little-when, being forced to interrupt our perusal of the work from a sense incapable of more active exertion, he sketched with his penof duty, to give the earliest possible notice of it, imper-cil, in the open air, and amidst the blossoms and overshafect and unsatisfactory as that may be. Before, however, we return to our pleasing study, we must indulge our readers with one or two short quotations, which may be taken almost at hazard, from a work that is written The to him from infancy, the whole series of views and prindowing foliage of that cottage garden' which had been dear ciples which, in a more finished form, but with no alteration whatever of their original design, he now submits to the judgment of the public; indeed, all subsequent re flection and investigation have but served more deeply to impress him with the conviction that these principles are in strict agreement with the order of Nature, and with the arrangements of Providence; and he has, accordingly, only to add, that having made this statement, he cannot doubt the reader will give him entire credit, when he declares, that he now offers the work to the public with the solemn belief that the principles which it contains are in accordance with the purest truth, and that their adoption as rules of conduct would indeed make man 'a Living Temple,' or, to use the fine words of the Divine Teacher, would bring the king-lated into stone: her hands became clenched convulsively, dom of Heaven upon earth.'” We know not what to add to so affecting a communication, except to express our hope, that as the author has not yet bid farewell to time," so he will be long of bidding farewell to the public-but will be granted health and encouragement for the completion of other works, still wanting, for the accomplishment of the entire plan which has risen upon his fertile and inexhaustible invention. Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry; with Etchings. THIS is a clever and amusing book; a little too purely Irish, perhaps, for the general reader, but nevertheless, full of excellent delineations of national manners. The peasantry of Ireland have more character than any other peasantry on the face of the earth, and hence they afford inexhaustible materials to one capable of sketching their peculiarities with a lively and rapid pencil. Such a person is our author, who has evidently studied the lower classes of his countrymen with great accuracy and attention, and has himself a turn both for the humorous and the pathetic, which is in excellent accordance with the temperaments of the heroes and heroines of his tales. The titles of the different stories are,-" The Three Tasks, or the Little House under the Hill," one of those wild, won lost all consciousness-a circumstance of which those who "Just as these words were uttered, a plunge was heard a few yards above the bridge, and a man appeared in the flood, making his way with rapid strokes to the drowning girl. Another cry now rose from the spectators. It's John O'Callaghan,' they shouted—' it's John O'Callaghan, and they'll be both lost!'- No,' exclaimed others, if it's in the power of man to save her, he will!'-' O, blessed Father, she's lost!' now burst from all present; for, after having struggled and kept floating some time by her garments, derful, and grotesque legends peculiar to Ireland; "Shane she at length sunk, apparently exhausted and senseless, and the thief of a flood flowed over her, as if she had not been Fadh's Wedding," a very cento of Irish fun and drollery; under its surface. When O'Callaghan saw that she went "Larry M'Farland's Wake;" "The Battle of the Fac- down, he raised himself up in the water, and cast his eye tions," a splendid description of one of the most glorious towards that part of the bank opposite which she disaprows ever fought in the illustrious town of Knockim-peared, evidently, as it proved, that he might have a mark downy; "The Funeral and Party Fight;" "The Hedge to guide him in fixing on the proper spot where to plunge School, and the Abduction of Mat Kavanah," a capital after her. When he came to the place, he raised himself satire on the prevalent mode of instilling larning into the again in the stream, and, calculating that she must by this time have been borne some distance from the spot where she spalpeens of green Erin; and "The Station," a sketch sank, he gave a stroke or two down the river, and disapnot unworthy of its predecessors. peared after her. This was followed by another cry of horror and despair; for, somehow, the idea of desolation which marks at all times a deep, overs woller torrent, heightened by the bleak mountain scenery around them, and the dark, angry voracity of the river where they had sunk, might have impressed the spectators with utter hopelessness as to the fate of those now engulfed in its vortex. This, however, I leave to those who are deeper read in philosophy than I am. An awful silence succeeded the last shrill exclamation, broken only by the hoarse rushing of the waters, whose wild, continuous roar, booming hollowly and dismally in the ear, might be heard at a great distance over all the country. But a new sensation soon invaded the multitude; for, after the lapse of about a minute, John O'Callaghan emerged from the flood, bearing, in his sinister hand, the inanimate body of his own Rose Galh-for it's he that loved her tenderly. A peal of joy congratulated them from a thousand voices; hundreds of directions were given him how to act to the best advantage. Two young men in especial, who were both dying about the lovely creature that he held, were quite anxious to give him advice: Bring her to the other side, John, ma bouchal; it's the safest,' said Larry Carty. Will you let him alone, Carty,' said Simon Tracy, who was the other; you'll only put him in a perplexity.' But Carty would order in spite of every thing. He kept bawling out, however, so loud, that John raised his eye to see what he meant, and was near losing hold of Rose. This was too much for Tracy, who ups with the fist, and downs him-so they both at it; for no one there could take themselves off those that were in danger, to interfere between them. But, at all events, no earthly thing can happen among Irishmen without a fight. The father, We had marked various quotations, but we find that the one which we consider the most interesting, extends to so great a length that we must, exclude the others. We think there is a great deal of power, and not a little pathos, in the following sketch. It describes a scene that took place at the crossing of a stream which was flooded, and is supposed to be narrated by a village schoolmaster : THE ADVENTURE OF ROSE O'HALLAGHAN AND JOHN O'CALLAGHAN. "The first of the O'Hallaghans that ventured over it, was the youngest, who was captured by the hand, and encouraged by many cheerful expressions from the young men who were clinging to the planks. She got safe over, and when she came to the end, one who was stationed on the far bank gave her a joyous pull, that translated her several yards upon terra firma. Well, Nancy,' he observed, you're safe, any how; and if I don't dance at your wedding for this, I'll never say ye're dacent.' To this Mary gave a jocular promise; and he resumed his station, that he might be ready to render a similar assistance to her next sister. Rose Galh then went to the edge of the plank several times, but her courage as often refused to be forthcoming. During her hesitation, John O'Callaghan stooped down, and privately untied his shoes, then unbuttoned his waistcoat, and very gently, being unwilling to excite notice, slipped the knot of his cravat. At long and last, by the encouragement of those who were on the plank, Rose attempted the passage, and had advanced as far as the middle of it, when a fit of dizziness and alarm seized her, with such violence that she during this, stood breathless, his hands clasped, and his eyes turned to heaven, praying in anguish for the delivery of his darling. The mother's look was still wild and fixed, her eyes glazed, and her muscles hard and stiff; evidently she was insensible to all that was going forward; while large drops of paralytic agony hung upon her cold brow. Neither of the sisters had yet recovered, nor could those who supported them turn their eyes from the more imminent danger, to pay them any particular attention. Many, also, of the other females, whose feelings were too much wound up when the accident occurred, now fainted, when they saw she was likely to be rescued; but most of them were weeping with delight and gratitude. A Who saved me?'- 'Twas John O'Callaghan, Rose, darling,' replied the sister, that ventured his own life into the boiling flood, to save yours-and did save it, jewel.' Rose's eye gleamed at John;-and I only wish, as I am a bachelor not further than my forty-seventh, that I may ever have the happiness to get a glance from two blue eyes, such as she gave him that moment; a faint smile played about her mouth, and a slight blush lit up her fair cheek, like the evening sunbeams on the virgin snow, as the poets have said, for the five hundredth time, to my own personal knowledge. She then extended her hand, which John, you may be sure, was no way backward in receiving, and the tears of love and gratitude ran silently down her cheeks." Neither Miss Edgeworth nor the author of the O'Hara Tales could have written any thing more powerful than this. We must not conclude without mentioning that the volumes are embellished with some very spirited and humorous etchings illustrative of the stories. Lives of Eminent British Lawyers. By Henry Roscoe, "When John brought her to the surface, he paused a moment to recover breath and collectedness; he then caught her by the left arm, near the shoulder, and cut in a slanting direction down the stream, to a watering-place, where a slope had been formed in the bank. But he was already too far down to be able to work across the current to this point for it was here much stronger and more rapid than under the plank. Instead, therefore, of reaching the slope, he found himself, in spite of every effort to the contrary, about a perch below it; and except he could gain this point, against the strong rush of the flood, there was very little hope of being able to save either her or himself-for he was now much exhausted. Hitherto, therefore, all was still THE authors of the present day may be arranged under The one consists of doubtful, whilst his strength was fast failing him. In this trying and almost hopeless situation, with an admirable The other presence of mind, he adopted the only expedient which could two pretty comprehensive heads. possibly enable him to reach the bank. On finding himself men either of an original style of thought, or at the least receding down, instead of advancing up the current, he ap- of a vigorous and peculiar style of expression. proached the bank, which was here very deep and perpen- consists of such persons as, possessing a competent knowdicular; he then sunk his fingers into the firm blue clay ledge of the English language, joined with a stock of inwith which it was stratified, and by this means advanced, formation above the common run, are able to tell a plain bit by bit, up the stream, having no other force by which smooth tale, for the benefit of elderly ladies, and gentlehe could propel himself against it. After this mode did he breast the current with all his strength-which must have men whose education has been neglected. Authors of been prodigious, or he never could have borne it out-until this latter class are termed, in the language of the fancy, he reached the slope, and got from the influence of the tide, the "heavy weights ;" and, to tell the truth, we begin to Ön arriving here, his hand was suspect shrewdly that they are greater favourites with into the dead water. our sovereign lords and patrons the booksellers, than the caught by one of the young men present, who stood up to the neck in the water, waiting his approach. A second brisker and more volatile class, to whom we have in our man stood behind him, holding his other hand, and a link ignorance attributed the pre-eminence. Any work of a But a well-powas thus formed, that reached out to the firm bank. good pull now brought them both to the edge of the liquid: man of genius-especially his first-is a ticklish specuon finding bottom, John took his Colleen Galh in his own lation; it may succeed, or it may not. Highly finishedarms, carried her out, and, pressing his lips to hers, laid lished work, from a decent God-fearing adherent of the her in the bosom of her father; then, after taking another divinity Dulness, is sure to succeed. kiss of the young drowned flower, burst into tears, and fell not an "if" or an "and" misplaced through the whole The truth is, the spirit that kept volume-no inharmonious sentences-no startling opipowerless beside her. him firm, was now wanted; and his legs and arms became nions-no aberrations from the fireside orthodoxy of a renerveless by the exertion. Hitherto her father took no notice of John, for how could he, seeing that he was entirely spectable husband and wife, with a numerous small family, wrapped up in his daughter? and the question was, though such a work forms a fine pillow for the reverend head rescued from the flood, if life was in her.-The sisters were of age. by this time recovered, and weeping over her, along with the father, and, indeed, with all present; but the mother could not be made to comprehend what they were about, at all at all. The country people used every means with which they were intimate to recover Rose; she was brought instantly to a farmer's house beside the spot, put into a warm bed, covered over with hot salt, wrapped in half-scorched blankets, and made subject to every other mode of treatment that could possibly revoke the functions of life. John had now got a dacent' draught of whisky, which revived him. He stood over her, when he could be admitted, watching for the symptomatics of her revival; all, however, He now determined to try another course: byand-by he stooped, put his mouth to her mouth, and, drawing in his breath, respired with all his force from the bottom of his very heart into hers; this he did several times rapidly-Faith, a tender and agreeable operation, any how. But mark the consequence: in less than a minute her white bosom heaved her breath returned her pulse began to play: she opened her eyes, and felt his tears of love raining warmly on her pale cheek! was vain. "For years before this, no two of these opposite factions had spoken; nor up to this minute had John and they, even upon this occasion, exchanged a monosyllable. The father now looked at him-the tears stood afresh in his eyes; he came forward-stretched out his hand-it was received; and the next moment he fell into John's arms, and cried like an infant. "When Rose recovered, she seemed as if striving to recordate what had happened; and, after two or three minutes, enquired from her sister, in a weak but sweet voice, Many a time and oft have we blessed the wholesome and sedative effects of a volume of this kind, when some over-excitement had sent our blood bounding at a yet more headlong pace than usual through our throbbing veins. Mr Roscoe's book is a very superior work in the heavy We mean that the style is irreproachline of business. ably correct; the sentiments in general such as all men are agreed upon; but that there is a want of boldness and originality both in the thoughts and language, and, what is worse in a biographical work, a want of graphic power. The truth is, that we begin to suspect these Family and other Libraries-Dr Lardner's is merely a publication of this class, under a more imposing name-useful as they The undeniably are, and creditable as the idea is to the original suggester, are about, from their number, to threaten the originality and respectability of our literature. works most in demand for them are abridgements and compilations; and the prices offered for such works by ture upon the publication of larger and more original their publishers, together with their unwillingness to venproductions, can scarcely fail to break down our English literature into a small peddling stream of nice little books. When we look at the current compositions of the daywe speak of that portion which professes to instructand compare them with the vast and original undertakings of our predecessors, or even of our contemporaries in France and Italy, we occasionally have our misgivings we fear that our lot has fallen in an age of little men, as well as of little books. This is the first biographical volume of Dr Lardner's Cyclopædia; but it is to be followed by others of a very interesting kind. We have here a series of biographies of British lawyers; and we are promised in the sequel three volumes of eminent British military commanders, by Mr Gleig-one volume (at the least) of eminent naval commanders, by Dr Southey-eight volumes of eminent literary and scientific characters, and five of eminent artists of all nations. Such a series, if executed judiciously, will afford an excellent manual for that most interesting study, the comparative effects of different professional avocations upon character. More judiciously they cannot be executed than in the specimen now on our table; although we should like to see more indications of fresh, vigorous native talent, both because it serves to make a book more readable, and because it sends the matter home with a greater impetus to the understanding. As Scotsmen, we feel inclined to quarrel with Mr Roscoe for his title, "British Lawyers," seeing that all his fourteen heroes are in reality English lawyers-practitioners at the English bar, and judges in English courts. There are also comprehended under the term British, the bars of Ireland and Scotland, and narratives of their most eminent characters are not merely wanting to justify the comprehensive title of the work, but would have added materially to its variety and interest. At the same time, we are quite ready to admit that the history of English lawyers is more intimately connected with the great history of national events, than that of the legal practitioners in either of the other two countries, and is on this account more rich in impressive and imposing associations; for the nobler features of the human mind, devotion to principle, and contempt of danger in great and perilous emergencies, have had more frequent opportunities of being roused into action amongst the jurists of the sister kingdom. The selection of lawyers is appropriately made, and so arranged as to afford a continuous view of the English bar, from the commencement of the seventeenth, down to the end of the eighteenth century. It would be vain to attempt, by extracting a few passages, to give any thing like an idea of the book. And we may remark here, by the way, that the broadside of ready-made quotations which accompanies this volume, has, besides the quackery of the whole system, the additional recommendation of being excessively ill-selected. The extracts are either dull, or, what is still worse, coarse and clumsy attempts at humour, and threadbare stories which have stood the tear and wear of the courts of Westminster-hall, and all the circuits, for the last century. We really feel tempted to inflict one passage upon our readers as a specimen : | it was determined to bring him without delay into the House of Commons. Sir William Gordon, the member for Portsmouth, was therefore prevailed upon, for an adequate consideration, to resign his seat, to which Mr Erskine immediately succeeded." selected this, whether he would himself be induced to Now, we put it to the conscience of the booby who purchase any book, or even to read it, on the strength of a passage so little striking. We extract for ourselves the following passage, as a grateful subject of reflection at a moment like the present, when a mighty nation is hearkening with anxious dread for the news from its monarch's sick-bed, as it tends to prove how deserved the love we entertain for him: "When attorney-general to the Prince of Wales, I (it is Lord Erskine who speaks) was retained by Thomas Paine, to defend him on his approaching trial for publishing the second part of his Rights of Man;' but it was soon intimated to me by high authority that it was considered to be incompatible with my situation, and the Prince himself, in the most friendly manner, acquainted me that it was highto explain my conduct; which I immediately did, in a letly displeasing to the King, and that I ought to endeavour ter to his majesty himself, in which, after expressing my sincere attachment to his person, and to the constitution of the kingdom, attacked in the work which was to be defended, I took the liberty to claim, as an invaluable part of that very constitution, the unquestionable right of the subchoice, if not previously retained, or engaged by office from ject to make his defence by any counsel of his own free the crown; and that there was no other way of deciding whether that was or was not my situation as attorney-general to the Prince, than by referring, according to custom, that question to the bar, which I was perfectly willing and even desirous to do. In a few days afterwards I received, through my friend the late Admiral Paine, a most grain feeling himself obliged to accept my resignation, which cious message from the Prince, expressing his deep regret was accordingly sent. most unjust, as well as ungrateful to the Prince Regent, It would, however, be not to add, that, in a few years afterwards, his Royal Highness, of his own mere motion, sent for me to Carlton House, whilst he was still in bed under a severe illness, and taking me most graciously by the hand, said to me, that, to appreciate the correctness or incorrectness of my conduct though he was not at all qualified to judge of retainers, nor in the instance that had separated us, yet that, being convinced I had acted from the purest motives, he wished most publicly to manifest that opinion, and therefore directed me to go immediately to Somerset House, and to bring with me, for his execution, the patent of Chancellor to his Royal Highness, which he said he had always designed for me; adding, that owing to my being too young when his estalor at that time; that during our separation he had been blishment was first fixed, he had declined having a chancelmore than once asked to revive it, which he had refused to do, looking forward to this occasion." Our readers will find in this volume, if not much brilliancy and originality, yet a good deal of both instruction and amusement. A Catechism of Useful Knowledge, for the Use of Schools. Original and Selected. Glasgow. W. R. M'Phun. 1830. 32mo. Pp. 44. MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE. "LORD ERSKINE.-Talents so extraordinary, and eloquence so powerful as Mr Erskine's, are, in this country, speedily engaged in the public service. His political predilections had already led him to associate himself with those celebrated men, who, during the administration of Lord North, headed the Opposition, and whose characters and THIS is a useful and ingenious little work, well calcugenius were then in their highest meridian. Fox, Burke,lated to improve the youthful mind, by not only cultivaand Sheridan, the three most splendid names in the modern ting the memory, but by teaching habits of thinking. political history of England, had hitherto preserved unblemished the fair and brilliant reputation with which they entered into public life. The coalition' had not yet dimmed the splendour of Fox's name; the purity of Burke's principles had not yet departed from him; nor had the fatal web of pecuniary embarrassment been wound round the soul of Sheridan. To associate with men like these was worthy of Erskine; but it was not until after the forma tion of the coalition ministry, that he became the public coadjutor of this distinguished phalanx. When the illjudged and unfortunate measure of the India Bill had been introduced, it became evident that ministers would require every assistance to carry it, opposed as it was by so many and such various interests. The fame and the genius of Erskine at once pointed him out as an invaluable ally, and DRYDEN'S CHAMBER. TIME, 1700-THE YEAR BEFORE the poet'S DEATH. DRYDEN in an apartment of his house in London, sitting alone, and deeply immersed in thought; - CHARLES, his eldest son, enters, and the old man shakes off his reverie. Dryd. I HAVE been meditating, my son, on my past life and literary labours, and guessing what posterity is |