and longer, and not so concave. At seven, the next two teeth have lost it, and the corner teeth only have the mark left in them. At eight it has grown out of these, and no mark is left at all. The tusks also become longer, and instead of being concave in their inner surface, become convex ; the horse is then termed aged. There is a great deal of difference in the mouths of horses; some have lost the mark in all, except the corner teeth, even as early as five years old; others have the front teeth in the top jaw, projecting over the bottom teeth, at the same age; and I have seen horses at seven years old, with the corner teeth appearing like those of a five-year-old. You may form some idea of the age from the appearance of the mouth in general, when the marks are no longer visible. If the corner teeth do not appear long, and running forward, as it were, to the front of the mouth; if they retain their square shape, and shut well together; if the tusks are not blunt, and have the least concavity in their inner surface, you may conclude that the horse is not very old, particularly if his head be not grey, and not very hollow above the eyes; though this latter shape sometimes exists in young horses. A concave tusk is the most certain criterion of youth; and as mares have no tusk at all, they must be judged with reference to what I have said about the corner teeth. It is here necessary to mention, that the difficulty of acquiring an accurate knowledge of the age of horses by their teeth, is very much increased by the tricks that are practised.

'It is generally allowed that no horses are fit to work till at least five years old; and it is a common custom with great breeders in the north, and with many dealers, to pull out the sucking teeth when the animal is rising four years old; the mouth is forced by these means, for the horseteeth succeeding soon after the operation, the animal appears to be a fiveyear-old. To detect such deception, regard must be paid to the tusk. Every horse, upon attaining the full age of five, has the tusk completely up on each side of the mouth; but in forced five-year-old mouths the tusk is only just making its way through the gums. There frequently exists also in the latter an irregularity in the front teeth, as well as a backwardness in the growth of the tusk. Forced mouths vary in their appearance according to the time of performing the operation; and the habit of observing horses' mouths will alone enable you to ascertain where any artifice has been practised.'—pp. 42—48.

It were to be desired that technical terms had been more sparingly used in a manual intended, like this, for general use. The author seems to think that he has done enough by printing such terms in italics. Who that is not a dealer, or, at least, a member of the turf, understands what is meant by pottering on the toe'? Generally speaking, however, the author gives an explanation of these phrases; his rules are concise; and any gentleman who goes to the horse bazaar without this little volume in his pocket, deserves-to be cheated.

ART. XIII. Arvendel; or, Sketches in Italy and Switzerland. 8vo. pp. 123. 38. 6d. London. Nisbet. 1826.

THIS book is supposed to be writteu (for it is right to be cautious in an affair of such importance) by the hon. and rev. Gerald Noel. It is neither,

however, the merits of the volume nor the titles of the author, that induce us to notice his performance, but its curiosity as a sample of a religious tour through Italy and Switzerland: or to use the author's more affected phrase, an effort to connect in the minds of youthful wanderers on the classic shores of Italy the interests of truth and of eternity, with the claims of external beauty and art.'-Pref. p. 5.

The way in which the author has done this will be best illustated by a few examples.

Arvendel (who represents the author), on seeing a wooden cross felt a peculiar pleasure in contemplating this impressive symbol of the compassion of God. In a moment it carried him back to all the scenes most interesting to us as Christians.' (pp. 1, 2.) Sion in the Valais, suggests to the author that the Sion above is placed above the reach of storms.' (p. 3.) The refuges on the Alps brought to his recollection in the most forcible manner that great and all-sufficient friend who is emphatically revealed under the image of a Refuge from the Storm.' (p. 12.) On seeing the Alps, he connected with this great and visible creation the power and richness of revelation.' (p. 14.) A friend of the author's cares nothing about the past destinies of Rome,' but walks daily by the Mamertine prisons, for this sagacious reason, that it is very possible that St. Paul may have been confined within their walls.' (p. 27.) The illumined summits of Mont Blanc, the roseate fires which kindle upon those eternal snows long after the sun has quitted the valleys, often presented to the imagination of Arvendel the brightest images of God and of eternity, or they symbolized to him the glowing hope of Christianity,' when the baffled expectations of the world have cast their dark and cold shadows across the wounded heart.' (p. 66.)

If we were to quote all the samples of this kind of writing that occur we might transfer half of Mr. Noel's volume to our pages. Even this nonsense, however, is less disgusting than the author's perpetual attempts at fine writing, as when he tells us that the Alps are like the deep sighs of nature, the upward aspirations of this depressed world towards God and eternity.'

If the author speaks ill of those who differ from him in religion he speaks particularly well of himself in various parts of his book. For example: What, he (Arvendel) asked was the value of his own superior science, his own refined education? He knew something of the history of Rome; he could live in imagination among the heroes of her ancient greatness he could recal the lofty struggles of baffled patriotism, he could share in the brief agitation of Cæsar as he paused before the waters of the Rubicon, he could sympathise with the indignant spirit of Brutus or Cato;' and he could do many other curious things. He also 'admired the felicity of art, and reverenced the absolute mind of the chisel!!!' These extracts are quite long enough to gratify the curiosity of our readers, and to have satisfied them, at least, of one thing-that a ‘serious' tour is really a very dull affair, especially with the appendage of forty pages of very bad verse.

ART. XIV. Paulus Parochialis; or a Plain and Practical View of the Object, Arguments, and Connection, of St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans. By the Rev. Wm. Lisle Bowles, &c. 12mo. Bath. 1826. MR. BOWLES, with an ardour truly professional, is always engaged in controversy; but we think his arguments are less likely to be replied to by poets, or questioned by reviewers, in the case of Paul than of Pope. The little volume before us consists of ten sermons, preached principally in answer to Calvinistic tracts and doctrines, which, in the reverend author's opinion, had produced baleful effects.' The main endeavour of Mr. Bowles, however, has been to show that the belief of particular election, or of sensible experience, was neither useful nor necessary for a Christian, and to explain the general purport of St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans, from a false construction of which, in Mr. B.'s opinion, these doctrines have been derived. He also has particularly examined those passages which, from being considered distinctly and separately from the main argument, have been the occasion of other mistaken views.'

Upon the success of the reverend author's arguments, we are not, of course, here to decide: we content ourselves with stating his purpose, and with pronouncing his little volume to be written in a plain, clear, and connected manner, not at all to have been expected from a poet. We may here appropriately mention, that the volume concludes with some short hymns and tales of great simplicity and tenderness, written by the author for the use of a village school; of these we give one brief specimen, THE SWALLOW AND RED-BREAST.

'The Swallows at the close of day,
When autumn shone with fainter ray,
Around the chimney circling flew,
Ere yet they bade a long adieu
To climes, where soon the winter drear
Shall close the unrejoicing year.
Now with swift wing they skim aloof,
Now settle on the crowded roof,
As counsel and advice to take,
E'er they the chilly North forsake:
Then one disdainful turn'd his eye,
Upon a red-breast twitt'ring high,
And thus began, with taunting scorn:—

"Thou household imp, obscure, forlorn,
Through the deep winter's dreary day,
Here, dull and shiv'ring, shall thou stay,
Whilst we, who make the world our home,
To softer climes, impatient roam;
Where summer still on some green isle
Rests, with her sweet and lovely smile:
Thus speeding far and far away,
We leave behind the short'ning day."

"""Tis true," the red-breast answer'd meek,
"No other scenes I ask or seek;
To every change alike resign'd,
I fear not the cold winter's wind.

When spring returns, the circling year
Shall find me, still contented, here;
But whilst my warm affections rest
Within the circle of my nest,

I learn to pity those that roam,

And love the more my humble home."'-pp. 150, 151..

ART. XV. Truth, a Novel. By the Author of Nothing. 3 Vols. 8vo. 11. 48. London. Hunt and Clarke 1826.

pre

THERE is considerable talent in this novel, and it is on that account that we preface this brief notice of it by saying, that it is intended to recommend opinions on matters of religion, which are likely to shock the judices of many worthy persons, who might be led, by its title, to read it. The heroine, in short (a Miss Evanshaw), is a young Scotch lady of great beauty, and infidel principles, who, to use her own words, entertains doubts as to the divine origin of the Bible, and finds it impossible to give credit to many assertions in it. (vol. iii. p. 107). Of revealed religion she thinks and talks with equal freedom, and protests that there is not more love than common ordinary justice in the love of Christ.' (vol. iii. p. 258); and the whole of the creed of this esprit fort in petticoats, is detailed at great length towards the close of the same volume.

On account of Miss Evanshaw's heterodox opinions, she is forced to quit the house of her mother, a Presbyterian, and runs the risk of losing her paternal estate by her adherence to the cause of what, in the opinion of the author of this novel, is Truth. She undergoes numerous persecutions, suffers many insults, and a great deal of contempt, on account of this Truth: she finally turns governess. As a farther trial of her patience, and after working miracles in the shape of transforming the three stupid daughters of a vulgar Scotch farmer, into highly accomplished young ladies; she embarks for Madeira. The ship is lost-and the novel ends with the rumour of a catastrophe. It seems, however, we are to have three other volumes of Truth, if the world should graciously receive the present sample.

There is some merit in the conception of the inferior characters, particularly that of a Mr. Glenwary. M'Tack and his family are well drawn. Miss Evanshaw could never have existed but in the imagination of a novel writer;-and there is a great violation of propriety in representing the female freethinker as a Scotchwoman. However, as we have said, the book is amusing-and those who are not deterred by the principles it holds up to admiration, may read it with some pleasure. Miss Evanshaw's arguments, to do the author justice, are so feeble, as to be capable of doing mischief only to very weak people.

ART. XVI.

De Clifford a Romance of the Red Rose. In twelve books. 8vo. pp. 420. London. Pickering. 1826.

THE poem before us, we believe, is written by a Mr. Kennedy, and was composed in India, where the author now is. It was printed two years ago, but circumstances of a private nature have till now retarded its publication.

De Clifford is founded upon that traditionary history which describes the tenth Lord De Clifford as having been educated as a peasant upon the lands to which he was heir, from the period of the death of his father, who was killed by an arrow in a skirmish, on the day before the battle of Towton, in 1461. The romance is meant, to use the author's words, 'to show the workings of a proud but generous spirit, prompted by the dark hints which must accidentally have fallen to his knowledge; and urged on by the succession of circumstances of which it is man's destiny to be the slave oftener than the master.' In the story, the author has not confined himself at all to the unities: the poem begins with the death of the hero's father in 1461, and concludes with the battle of Bosworth Field in 1485. There are several episodes introduced, to give variety to the work; and of these the most brilliant is the Spanish Crusade against Granada. The poetry of De Clifford is more remarkable for elegance than elevation-for the tenderness and solemnity of the reflections with which it abounds, and the sweetness with which they are illustrated, than for rapidity of narrative or extraordinary brilliancy of fancy. The introductions are very graceful and harmonious; the following extract will show how prettily the author's verses flow;—

England!-thou land of beauty! the renown

Of many a glorious age environs round
Aught that is of thee !-History hath no page
More brightly lettered of heroic deed,

Of manly worth, or woman's nobleness,

Than thou may'st show; thou hast nor hill nor dale

But lives in legend. Sweetness hath more charm

From such brave history. Who hath seen thy shores

Sink as he left them in their watery belt,

Lives but on hope, nor treasures aught of joy

In Fancy's fairy flights, but back to thee,

Queen of the waters, bends his wistful eye.'-pp. 202, 203.

The preface is written with singular ingenuousness and modesty, and displays a very respectable quantity of reading.

ART. XVII. Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland. Second Edition. 12mo. London. Murray. 1826.

THE appearance of a new edition of this delightful little book gives us an opportunity of repairing our neglect in omittiug to notice it on its first publication. It consists of a collection of charming fairy tales, told in a vein of gay humour, and with a richness which are quite admirable. The tone of Irish narrative, and the dialect of the lower orders of the Irish people, are exquisitely preserved; but the author never suffers his familiarity to become vulgar, and his volume may be quoted as one of the finest examples of that sort of easy reading which is such difficult writing. Sir Walter Scott, in his admirable Essay on Faries, in the second volume of the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, hints a belief that the name and race of the faries may have come to us from the Persians, through the medium of the Arabian language. We think this conjecture ex