With wrath he foams, and rends the solid mass,
And, as he rages, finds or makes his pass;
With headlong madness tears his ang y way,
And the rude caverns lashes with his spray;
From rock to rock his tumbling torrent falls,
And thund'ring shakes these ever during walls;
Thro' yawning cliffs the struggling waters wind,
And gain new fury in their course confin'd;
Then prone descend in one wide sheet of snow,
And boil and bellow in the depths below.
But oh! how beauteous would this scene appear,
E'en if no Clyde with roaring floods were here;
How grand, how awful are these rocks around,
Their bases bare, with wood their summits crown'd ;
High o'er the stream they rear their brows sublime,
And stand eternal midst the wrecks of Time;
On these proud tow'rs I take my station sure,
And scarcely feel myself on rocks secure!
So far beneath the maddening water toils,
And, dashing, back upon itself recoils;
Appals the senses with its horrid noise,

And makes us tremble amidst all our joys.

After we had satisfied ourselves with viewing the falls from seve ral stations contrived for the purpose, the gardener, who attended us, shewed us the hot-houses; and as we had before seen all that was beautiful in unadorned nature, we here saw nature highly improved and forwarded by art. The finest clusters of grapes hung perfectly ripe over our heads, and seemed almost ready to fall into our mouths. In another department were peaches and plumbs just in perfection. Seve ral of the peaches had fallen upon the ground. The gardener picked up two, and gave them to us. They were very delicious; but tended rather to give us an appetite for more, than to satisfy us with what we had tasted.

About the falls of the river I observed on the banks lillies of the vale, which seemed to grow perfectly wild ; and in other parts abundance of columbines, which appeared to be the spontaneous produc tion of the soil. If happiness depended upon situation, lady Ross would certainly possess it; for she has every luxury around her which art or nature can bestow. The beauty of the scenery defies all the powers of description and language. Even the pencil of Lorraine could never do it justice.'

There was one circumstance, which I observed in all Scotland, in public and in private houses, and though it is a very trifling one, yet as it is characteristic of the manners of the country I cannot help noticing it. In every bed-chamber the clothes of the bed were turned half-way down. This I never once saw in England, and never but once saw it omitted in Scotland. Whether it is done to shew that one is welcome to one's lodging, or from a supposition that an Englishman does not know the way into a Scotch bed, I cannot say; but the cus tom is singular, and at the same time universal throughout the north, As to the manners of the Scotch in the lower orders of the people, it

would

would be difficult for persons travelling with our expedition to form a correct opinion. But as far as we could judge, the labouring part of the community seemed to be very lazy and indolent. We seldom met a cart, where the driver was not stretched at full length upon it, and sometimes asleep. The women are compelled to work hard in hoeing potatoes, and weeding the corn, while the men lie snoring in the furrows. But perhaps with proper encouragements to industry, and with some prospect of advancing their circumstances in life, and reaping the due rewards of their labour, these people might become very active and industrious.'

If the author should still require to be comforted, we can only refer him to the blooming and melting dames of Caledonia; one of whom wept at his departure, and another modestly inclined her face forwards to receive his salute.' Happy the Traveller who can exclaim, Veni, vidi, vici!

MISCELLANEOUS.

Art. 38. A Short Account of John Marriott, including Extracts from his Letters. To which are added some of his Poetical Productions. Crown 8vo. pp. 200 38. 6d Boards. W. Phillips. The author of these poems, and the subject of the brief memoir prefixed, was one of the society of Friends, or of the people commonly called Quakers. We are not informed what trade or occupation he pursued but, from the testimonies before us, it is evident that he was a good man, and "acted well his part" during the narrow span of his earthly existence. His annals furnish little that will generally interest, though they may be gratifying to the members of his own persuasion. A short abstract will comprize their sum and substance.

His

John Marriott was born at Edgend, a small village near Colne in Lancashire, in the year 1762. He had a guarded and religious education, his mother, in particular, being solicitous for the improve. ment and happiness of her children. As he possessed an excellent understanding, he made a rapid progress in learning, and acquired a considerable knowledge of the Greek and Latin languages. mind was early stored with much general and useful information. He was of a mild and amiable disposition, which, combined with other excellent qualities, gained him many friends, and rendered him very generally esteemed and beloved. From a child, he was of a thoughtful and serious turn of mind, which, as he attained to riper years, was heightened by some severe afflictions, particularly by a disappointment in an attachment which he had early formed for an amiable young woman.

He possessed great sensibility of mind, and a very considerable poetick talent; this he cultivated, and often indulged himself in composing short pieces, which were always innocent, and often calculated to promote just sentiments, and the cause of piety and virtue.'

He spent much of his time in a little wilderness near his habita tion. Many of the arbours in it were formed by himself; and a number of his inscriptions on the trees remain to the present day. Here he wrote many of those poetical effusions which accorded so naturally. with the situation, and which cherished that soft and pensive disposi

Muir.

tion which he loved to indulge. But his life was not spent in useless occupation. He was a good member of society, a most affectionate relative, and a kind and sympathizing friend to the poor.'

In the year 195, John Marriott was united to Ann Wilson, an amiable and worthy young woman. They lived together in great harmony, and with the prospect of a continuance of solid comfort: but no enjoyments here, not even those which are founded on virtue, are secure from interruption and alloy. About two years after their marriage he was afflicted with a painful disorder, which continued to increase till it terminated in his dissolution; and he left behind him a mournful widow, and a little boy about two years old.

Early in life, his mind had been impressed with religious considerations, which continued with him, and were solidly improved towards the end of his days. For several years preceding his death, he had been considerably engaged in business, which occupied a great portion of his time and attention: by some expressions, made in his last illness, it appears that he regretted the occupation of so much of his precious time in temporal concerns, as having, in some degree," diverted his mind from objects of superior importance.'

He quietly departed about ten o'clock the 11th of the 8th. month (August) 1797.'

His letters display, with much seriousness, a considerable portion of religious melancholy, expressed in language which to the common. reader will seem peculiar, viz. if mankind were but deeply sensible of the necessity of knowing a ceasing from man' -how loath is the first birth to be abridged of its share of satisfaction!' He frequently said that his afflictions were small in comparison of what he deserved. His mind was clothed with deep poverty, and engaged in humble breathings to the Father of Mercies, that a preparation for his final change might be mercifully experienced.' From the turn and disposition of such a mind, playful and exhilirating poetry could not be expected; and Mr. Marriott's Muse is serious, plaintive, and humane. Writing not for fame, but merely to amuse himself and a few friends, he is intitled to some indulgence in a court of criticism, into which he is brought against his own consent. In answer to the flattery of a friend, "he says;

The world is captious-ah my friend, forbear,

Nor think the Muse could keep the doubtful field,
No conscious worth her drooping heart to chear,
No wit to embolden, and no sense to shield.

No-in the noiseless valley let her stray,

Safe from the conflicts of a loftier sphere;
Pleas'd, if with smiles a gentle few survey,

And village maidens join their praise sincere.'

Among these specimens of Quaker poetry, those who are acquainted with the benevolent sentiments professed by Friends will not be sur prised to find an Ode to Philanthropy, and verses reprobating war.. We shall copy a passage from the latter, by which the author's merit may be appreciated:

War

1

"War first, and war's black brood, a hideous train Of crimes and horrors, claim the upbrading strain; Sad argument, and irksome to the mind

That loves the brotherhood of human-kind,
Though wit in every age, intent to shew
What wonders fiction's fairy wand can do,
With all its gems the dismal theme has crowned
And cast a false, pernicious glory round:
History indeed so oft the tale repeats

Of human quarrels, victories and defeats,
Displays such schemes by human hearts conceived,
Records such deeds by human hands achieved,
As made even heathens, conscious of the crimes
That christians boast of, sigh for better times;
Their glimmering reason from such deeds of hate
Proved man degenerate from his first estate:
But history, like her sister, loath to thwart
The favourite passions of the ambitious heart,
Even now, the christian test rejecting, tries
By maxims false each martial enterprize,
Nay, swoln with arrogance, by malice driven,
Derides the doctrine of the Lord from heaven!

Come then, sweet poesy, be thou the first
With all thy skill, to check the inhuman thirst;
Much guilt thou hast to expiate, many a line
Unhallowed, offered at oppression's shrine:
Exalt thy prospects, be what heaven designed
Thou shouldest be-sweet instructress of mankind;
Such as thou wast when Israel's tuneful king
To heights unrivalled raised thy heaven-ward wing;
That if an angel pass, thou needest not fear
The blameless warblings should offend his ear:
O, never more illume a guilty day,

Nor strew thy garments in a hero's way,

The pearl of praise reserve for purer themes,

Deeds that nor taint the air, nor tinge the streams,
Actions unhaunted by the vulture's cry,

And such as leave the checks of mothers dry.'

Under the circumstances of the case, we do not feel ourselves justified in exercising any sternness of criticism. We shall only therefore remark that, however Mr. M. may have been gifted by the Muses, his ear was deficient in correctness, and his rhymes are often faulty. Errors of the press are noticed: but the following line

A poor lymphatic through thy woodland stray'

is not marked as containing a most egregious blunder.
Art. 39. A Defence of the Character and Conduct of the late Mary
Wollstonecraft Godwin, founded on Principles of Nature and Reason,
as applied to the peculiar Circumstances of her Case; in a Series of
Letters

Moy.

it

Letters to a Lady. Crown 8vo.
Wallis.

pp. 160. 3. 6d. Boards.

We agree with this apologist that there are certain points in Mrs. Wollstonecraft's conduct, over which the generous heart would desire to throw an oblivious shade; and for this reason we shall excuse our selves the ungracious task of examining the merits of this defence, which is erected on the position that extraordinary Geniuses are not to be estimated by common rules, but are Planets that must be reviewed upon their own principles. Putting this observation into plain English, it means that persons calling themselves great Geniuses have a rule of morality of their own, and may live as they like without meriting censure. We are too old fashioned to admit any such privilege in favour of Genius, and must consider that defence as lame which proceeds on such an assumption.

CORRESPONDENCE.

Moy.

We received with pleasure the anonymous letter, on the subject of Sir W. Jones's memoirs; and if the paper, to which the writer alludes, does not occur in Lord Teignmouth's volume, we shall thank him to fulfil his offer of transmiting it to us.

It appears to us that the expression, which is the subject of D. C-I's letter, is a Latinism, referring to the gender of the noun; an allusion not sanctioned by the rules of our language, but very likely to occur to the classical mind of the great poet.

The representation of Anti-hypercritikistos is taken with the good humour with which it seems to have been made: but we had previously detected the error to which it relates.

The discussion proposed by Agricola is adapted to the pages of a
Magazine, but forms no part of our office.

At p. 378. h 26. of this Review, the reader is requested to erase the word spurious, which was there inserted through inadvert

ence.

The Appendix to this Volume of the Review will be published with the Number for January.

Errors, pp. 352, 378, 409, 418, 430, 439.