of Balton. With these he appears to have contracted a strong friendship, and to have passed a life of what must have been a very delightful prosecution of the popular studies of the time. They applied themselves to astronomy, and it seems equally certain to astrology. In the archives of the Cliffords have been found manuscripts of this period, and supposed to belong to the shepherd, which make it more than probable that alchemy was another of the fascinating pursuits of Lord Henry and his monkish companions. He emerged, after he had so spent the whole of the reign of Henry the Seventh, and the first years of Henry the Eighth, at the age of nearly sixty, as a principal commander of the victorious army at Flodden, showing that the military genius of the Cliffords merely slumbered beneath the philosophic gown.' The day-dream of Tintagel is very good in its way. Mr. Howitt is evidently a man of poetical temperament; and his dream has this advantage, that its circumstances cannot be contradicted by the stoutest stickler for realities. We suspect, however, that the representation of Arthur and his court, their habits and their manners as given in the Mabinogion, comes nearer to the truth than the scenery of Mr. Howitt's dream. We cannot give up our old friend Arthur as a fictitious personage. Wotton Hall, in Staffordshire, is chiefly noticed by the author as the habitation of Rousseau during his stay in England; and a somewhat curious list of distinguished foreigners who have visited this country is given at the commencement of the chapter. 'Charles the Fifth, on his visit to Henry the Eighth. Peter the Great of Russia. Marat, the bloody Marat, the friend of the ferocious Robespierre, who fell by the hand of Charlotte Corday, teaching French at a Dissenting academy at Warrington, in Lancashire, intimate with the Aikins, and Barbaulds, &c. Louis Philippe pursuing the same humble vocation at Richmond. Dr. Franklin, busy in London as a journeyman printer. La Mennais, seeking employment in London, and refused, as stupid looking. Mina and Miguel, the lions of London drawing-rooms, surprising all the young ladies by their meekness and gentleness, the more to surprise them afterwards with the news of their bloody deeds. Two of the most extraordinary men, however, of the last century who have made any considerable sojourn in this country, are Alfieri and Rousseau.' Nothing could possibly be more in keeping with the received accounts of the latter extraordinary man, than the whole of his conduct at Wotton Hall, and the manner of his quitting it. He was evidently the subject of mental aberration and probably many of the peculiarities of his works were the result of-perhaps-extraordinary organization; or at least of diseased action. The author runs a singular parallel between the tastes and habits of Alfieri and Lord Byron, which appear to have been similar even to minute particulars. We are not surprised at this. It is not that Alfieri, though he several times visited and even resided in England, and was partial to it, had any thing of the Englishman in his composition; but it has always appeared to us, that Lord Byron had much of the Italian. We doubt greatly whether he ever felt himself thoroughly at home in England-for the last twelve years of his life at least; and we believe that he never intended to return to it: and his temperature and genius bespoke a man who was born on the Phlegræan fields, and reared beneath the suns of Italy. The last places which we can notice are the enchanted lands of Staffa and Iona; the latter sacred to the memory of learning passed away, and immortalized by the pen of Johnson. Here they say are buried forty kings of Scotland (?); four kings of Ireland; eight kings of Norway! What a royal fellowship in Death! And they rise at midnight and hold solemn council round their tombs. 'As in pale Hades, midst dim-visioned things, Of these things, however, we must say no more; as we wish to make an extract which we cannot abridge, and which will leave us no space for further observations: it will probably please the reader better than any thing of ours. It is the description of the interior of Fingal's Cave, in Staffa. We advanced along a sort of Giant's Causeway, the pavement of which was the heads of basaltic columns, all fitting together in the most beautiful symmetry, and, turning round the precipice to our right hand, found ourselves at the entrance of the great cave. The sea was too stormy to allow us to enter it, as is often done in boats, we had, therefore, to clamber along one of its sides, where a row of columns is broken off at some distance above the waves, and presents an accessible, but certainly very formidable causeway, by which you may reach the far end. I do not believe that any stranger, if he were there alone, would dare to pass along that irregular and slippery causeway, and penetrate to the obscure end of the cave; but numbers animate one another to any thing. We clambered along this causeway or corridor, now ascending and now descending, as the broken columns required, and soon stood-upwards of seventy of us-ranged along its side from one end to the other. Let it be remembered, that this splendid sea cave is forty-two feet wide at the entrance; sixty-six feet high from the water and runs into the rock two hundred and twenty-seven feet. Let it be imagined that, at eight or ten feet below us it was paved with the sea, which came rushing and foaming along it, and dashing up against the solid rock at its termination; while the light thrown from the flickering billows quivered in its arched roof above us, and the whole place was filled with the solemn sound of the ocean; and if any one can imagine to himself any situation more sub lime, I should like to know what that is. The roof is composed of the lower ends of basaltic columns, which have yet been so cut away by nature as to give it the aspect of the roof of some gigantic cathedral aisle. Lichens of gold and crimson have gilded and colored it in the richest manner. It was difficult to forget, as we stood there, that, if any one slipped, he would disappear for ever, for the billows in their ebb would sweep him out to the open sea, as it were, in a moment. Yet the excitement of the whole group was too evident to rest with any seriousness on such a thought. Some one suddenly fired a gun in the place, and the concussion and reverberated thunders were astounding. When the first effect was gone off, one general peal of laughter rung through the cave, and then nearly the whole company began to sing, 'the sea! the sea!' The captain found it a difficult matter to get his company out of this strange chantry-where they, and the winds and waves seemed all going mad together-to embark them again for Iona.'-p. 358. We are particularly partial to the kind of engravings with which this volume is illustrated, and are pleased to see it becoming so prevalent in England. A great point is gained in our opinion, where the same artist both designs and engraves the embellishments, he knows his own meaning best, and can express and convey his own feeling better than any other person. Mr. Williams is entitled to great credit for the manner in which he has executed his task, and the interest of the work is much enhanced by his assistance. Some of the landscapes are very picturesque and effective; and the figure of the young Shakespeare is a highly successful attempt; whether it is equal in execution to the drawing or not. Mr. Howitt thinks it is not. It is free from the fault of many of our English figure subjects, where mere effect is more attended to than drawing and character, and the work suffers in proportion. They do these things better in France, where the drawing is considered as a matter of the first importance. In landscape the case is different, effect is there the principal consideration; and the artist in these subjects has been happy and successful. The character of wood-engraving too, is quite in keeping with the kind of work with which Mr. Howitt has presented us. We must not omit to notice the vignette of Wolsey blessing the children, which it seems was designed by Mr. Howitt's daughter, and is highly creditable to her taste and talents. Mr. Howitt is no doubt a practical writer, but his style is unequal. Some parts of the work are evidently written con amore, and with considerable effect; in others the style is defective and the language even incorrect. This should not be; the finer parts, perhaps, are shown to more advantage by the contrast; but an author who can write so well at some times, should never write so ill at any. The book, however, is a good book, and will do good; and in that hope we wish it success. 559 Art. VII. 1. Debate on the Evidences of Christianity; containing an Examination of the Social System, and of all Systems of Scepticism of Ancient and Modern Times, held in the City of Cincinnati for Eight Days successively, between Robert Owen of New Lanark, Scotland, and Alexander Campbell of Bethany, Virginia. With an Appendix by the Parties. Complete in one volume. London: Groombridge, 1839. 2. Discourses, on various subjects, designed to illustrate the Excellency of Christianity; as compared with the pretensions of Infidelity, and especially of Socialism. By ALEXANDER EWING, M.A. 8vo. London: Hamilton, Adams, and Co. 3. Socialism, in its Moral Tendencies Compared with Christianity. The second of three Lectures on Socialism (as propounded by Robert Owen and others), delivered in the Baptist Chapel, South Parade, Leeds, Sep. 30, 1838. By J. EUSTACE GILES. London: Simpkin and Marshall. THE 'HE day in which we live, but for the enterprises of Christian philanthropy which distinguish it, might with strong emphasis be denominated the golden age of quackery. The honorable occupation, in which strolling players, conjurors, dancing-dogs, and mock-auctioneers formerly enjoyed a snug monopoly, is now invaded by mountebanks of a different order; who, crowding in Egyptian swarms into every walk of life, seem resolved on showing that charlatanism and folly are the order of the day; and on taxing, to the utmost point of endurance, the patience or credulity of an oppressed and insulted nation. Certainly, it sets the question of ghosts and apparitions for ever at rest; that the mighty dead of this country can be quiet in their graves, while the stations which they once held in public observation are filled by men, who, heedless of honest fame, are striving to outdo each other in the acquisition of a most unenviable notoriety. Never has there been a period throughout the history of the nation, in which its interests have required more profound attention from the legislature than during the last five years; and session after session have we waited for the successive meetings of Parliament, in the hope that something would be done to remove the burdens, by which our liberties and commerce are oppressed. But no sooner has an unmeaning speech from the throne been read, than both houses, all alive, with a few honorable exceptions, for pelf and patronage, have begun to squander away the public time, in contentious spoutings about their party interests; and never has the opposition of the one side been so strong, or the support of the other so feeble, as when some really honest measure has been introduced,as for instance that of Mr. Thomas Duncombe on Church-Rates, -to ensure the rights and comfort of the people. Nor from these disgraceful bickerings, as farcical without being so innocent as those of the redoubtable Punch and his wife Judy, do the two leading parties in the senate ever cease, excepting when, like Herod and Pontius Pilate, they shake hands over the mockery or crucifixion of religious liberty. While the great vulgar are thus "taking infinite pains to render themselves infinitely ridiculous" in the senate, similar diversion, out of doors, is provided for the people, by a more plebeian tribe of charlatans, in the shape of itinerant philosophers or lecturers on protestant reformation, phrenology, education, and social improvement; who, though they play such fantastic tricks before high 'heaven, as make the angels weep,' find pence and followers amongst the deluded people. Were we to lay before the reader a list of public names, that might be fairly included under these animadversions, he might mistake it, from its length, for a catalogue of Hindoo gods, or one of the endless genealogies, of a Jewish rabbi. Two, however, as acting conspicuous parts in the great farce of human folly, as seated at opposite ends of the blessed see-saw in which society is now moving, and as more immediately connected with the subject of this article, may be deemed not unworthy of notice. We refer, as Our readers probably anticipate, to the Right Rev. Father in God, as he styles himself, Henry Lord Bishop of Exeter, and Robert Owen, Esq., founder of the Rational System of Society,' Qui Bavium non odit, amet tua carmina Mævi, which, in modern English, runs thus, Who loathes not "Owen's stupidity may admire Exeter's intolerance, and let him 'who can endure either, go and yoke foxes, and milk the he-goats.' In many respects, these worthies, as public men, for it is in this character alone that we refer to them, differ from each other as much as a demagogue usually differs from a bishop. Trained up in the most Gothic and intolerant of our universities, Dr. Phillpotts is profoundly learned in things of which he had better have remained for ever ignorant; while Mr. Owen, partly through the want of early education, and partly through his own neglect, appears utterly ignorant of the things which it is of infinite importance to know. The one, with the wisdom for which prelates in all ages and countries have been celebrated, has chosen a sure path to rank and emolument; the other, amusing himself, like many an infidel speculator before him, with sensual and golden dreams, has found a path, equally sure, to poverty and degradation. In all the efforts of the atheist, we see the demagogue and the libertine; in those of the high-priest, the formalist, and inquisitor. Grant the wishes of the one, and you subvert the |