lumes. We confess that we are tired of this bastard brood of heroes, and cannot by any effort bring ourselves to feel any thing like excitement at their greatest atrocities. We stand unmoved as a rock, at bloodshed and murder; the faux paux of married women are become so common in romances and fashionable novels, that they scarcely titillate the most liquorish fancy; and such is our indifference to such trifles as robbery and murder, that we have almost come to think it a pity they should be punished. The heroes of many of the novelists of the present day have almost converted us to the belief that there is no moral incompatibility between a criminal and a judge, and that a series of violations of law is no obstacle to a man attaining fame, fortune, and honor. Truly, we have become sophisticated by these dangerous productions, and begin to be seriously of opinion, that if most modern libraries were subjected to the inquest of the curate and barber, like that of Don Quixotte, there would be fewer robberies and murders, and a great falling off among the pupils of the quarter sessions. We therefore cordially welcome 'George Balcombe' and 'Sheppard Lee' as the harbingers of the revival of the good old school of domestic novels, founded on existing habits and manners, appealing to our better feelings, and presenting to our contemplation examples of virtue or vice, applying directly to our situation, and within the reach of our imitation or abhorrence. We earnestly hope the success of these two works will be such as to encourage others to follow in the footsteps of nature, whose fields are never exhausted, rather than pursue the beaten track of chivalry, which has become so worn out as to afford no novelty, except through the medium of extravagant and most absurd improbabilities.

MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. By the author of 'Peter Simple,' 'Jacob Faithful,' etc. Philadelphia: E. L. CAREY AND A. HART. In one vol. pp. 274.

LET not the reader start. It is not our intention to inflict upon him an elaborate dissertation on the merits of the work whose title is given above. A book, three editions of which have mysteriously disappeared from the shelves of our book-sellers in the short space of three weeks, must have had such general judgment passed upon its attractions, as to render our poor blazon quite unnecessary. For the enlightenment, however, of the distant admirers of Captain MARRYATT, who may not yet have obtained from the sea-board his latest production, it may be proper to remark, that in ' Midshipman Easy,' to an equal degree with the other works of the author, ingenuity and wit find an alliance with nature and an unmatched power of invention. The style of Peter Simple' itself is not more terse and nervous, nor did it insure more deserved applause, than will the varied history of 'Mr. Midshipman Easy.'

THE PARLOR SCRAP BOOK. Edited by WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK. Philadelphia: CAREY, LEA AND BLANCHARD. New-York: WILEY AND LONG.

THIS is a large quarto annual, comprising sixteen engravings, with poetical and other illustrations. The pictorial portions of the work are of distinguished excellence. In addition to the prose illustrations by the editor, a gifted American lady — Mrs. E. F. ELLETT, of South Carolina—has contributed numerous articles in verse, which are well calculated to sustain, if not to enhance, her reputation.

EDITORS' TABLE.

MUSIC-MR. RUSSELL. - Perhaps there is no one thing, at the present day, in which there is more affectation and humbug, than in what is termed 'music,' by common courtesy. Oratorio and opera-goers will sit for hours listening to, and pretending to admire, strains, to execute which requires so much exertion, that if the hearers were as honest as Dr. JOHNSON, they would wish were not only difficult' but 'impossible;' for all the while, their hearts are not touched with a single emotion, such as genuine melody is capable of producing. Foreign music-masters and professors, with their shakes, trills, and whiskers — 'difficult passages' and moustaches — diamond rings, self-conceit, and quavers — have succeeded in imposing upon the Atlantic cities a ‘fashionable taste,' in relation to music, which the good citizens have received with due deference to the opinions of crowned heads and petty dignitaries, before whom the operators-as they say have sung, and by whom they have been applauded. Now and then, however, we have a gratifying evidence that this taste has a very loose hold upon the regards, and none upon the affections, of our people. One touch of nature - one exhibition of the simpler melodies, by a competent master, who knows what he professes, and professes no more than he knows, takes the public ear captive-and the heart, its trammels of fashion thrown off, really feels without prompting, and enjoys without dictation.

These thoughts have been suggested by hearing Mr. RUSSELL, of Rochester, who recently made a casual visit to this city, execute a few of his favorite airs at an oratorio, and in private society, before a select circle of friends. This young gentleman has eschewed all attempts at taking the public by storm, on his first arrival in this country. Although his musical education has been of the best description, and his powers are of the very first order of excellence, he makes no especial parade of either. He takes up his abode in a flourishing and public-spirited western town, and by natural superiority, unaided by flourish,' he soon stands at the very head of his profession. Such is the career, in this country, of one whose equal as a melodist we have never seen in America. His voice is round, full, and rich-capable of high elevation and deep depression, without losing either its sweetness or its softness. His execution is chaste, simple, and faultless, beyond the reach of the disciples of the 'difficult' school. We thought we saw, in the countenances which glowed with emotion as the notes of 'The Old English Gentleman,' 'Wind of the Winter Night,' etc., - both composed by Mr. RUSSELL fell on delighted ears, sufficient proof that it needs only a proper direction to the public taste, to place it above and beyond the influence of the elaborate Italian school, which has already begun to decline abroad.

We cannot hope to convey to the reader an idea of the descriptive power which characterizes Mr. Russell's execution of the closing stanzas of the following spirited and beautiful song, which now appears for the first time in print. So distinct was the singer's enunciation, and so perfectly adapted his voice and manner to the event which he was portraying, that we remarked an involuntary shudder- a general 'holding of the breath for a time' in the hushed listeners around him. The shipwreck was before

the eyes of every hearer: the grating keel - the crash of the fallen mast - the flapping of the storm-rent sail- all were present:

'WIND of the winter night! whence comest thou? -
And whither, oh! whither, art wandering now?
Sad, sad is thy voice on the desolate moor,
And mournful, oh! mournful, thy howl at my door:

'But it smote on my ear like the tocsin of death,

As she struggled, and strove with the waters for breath:
'Tis her requiem I tune, as I howl through the sky,
And repent of the fury that caused her to die!'

is of a similar

The Old English Gentleman' - which we are glad to learn will hereafter appear in the New-York Mirror, with the music, as arranged by Mr. Russell · descriptive character. It is remarkable alike for picturesque beauty, feeling, and pathos:

'I'LL sing you an old ballad, that was made by an old pate,
Of a poor old English gentleman, who had an old estate :
He kept a brave old mansion, at a bountiful old rate,
And a good old porter, to relieve the old poor at his gate-

Like a fine old English gentleman, all of the olden time.

'His hall so old, was hung around with pikes, and guns, and bows,
With swords, and good old bucklers, that had stood 'gainst many foes;
And there his worship sat in state, in doublet and trunk hose,
And quaffed a cup of good old wine, to warm his good old nose —
Like a fine old English gentleman, etc.

"When winter cold brought Christmas old, he opened house to all,
And, though three-score and ten his years, he featly led the ball;
Nor was the houseless wanderer then driven from the hall,
For, while he feasted all the great, he ne'er forgot the small-
Like a fine old English gentleman, etc.

'But Time, though old, is strong in flight, and years roll'd swiftly by,
When autumn's falling leaf foretold this poor old man must die!
He laid him down right tranquilly, gave up life's latest sigh,
While heavy sadness fell around, and tears bedewed each eye-
For this good old English gentleman, all of the olden time.'

Let us hope that the follies of fashion, in the matter of music, will ere long be cast aside that, to adopt a striking passage in PAULDING's 'Backwoodsman :'

-the bright day is dawning, when the West
No more shall crouch before old Europe's crest;
When men who claim thy birth-right, Liberty,
Shall burst their leading strings, and dare be free;
Nor, while they boast thy blessings, trembling stand,

Like dastard slaves before her, cap in hand-
Cherish her old absurdities as new,

And all her cast-off follies here renew.'

VOL. VIII.

80

MY DEAR SIR: If in that brief controversy which is waging (not being waged) between us, there should appear no probability of awakening on either side that bitter sentiment which has been aptly denominated the odium theologicum, or any harsh invectives, I trust it will not be ascribed, upon my part at least, to any deficiency of zeal in the cause which I espouse, but rather to its true and more inoffensive reason, an utter repugnance to the indulgence of any kind of 'odium' whatever. Christianity never yet gained any advantages, and never will gain them, by the display of bigotry, intolerance, and a spirit of violence and denunciation, in her advocates. She addresses her doctrines to the understandings and the hearts of men, and if she cannot by a fair contest in the field of argument obtain the mastery of the first, and, by the suasive influence she exerts gain prevalence over the second, her task must remain incomplete, and her benevolent purpose be defeated. It is related of two learned men by the name of Reynolds, the one a Protestant, and the other a Roman Catholic, that after carrying on a correspondence in regard to the distinctive claims of their several churches, each presented to the other so forcible an appeal in favor of his own creed, that they both changed sides, and became converts to the opinions against which they had been contending. I have no apprehension that this will be the result in our case; but this much I will promise, and I should like to exact the same concession from you, that if, conformably to Dr. Johnson's rustic definition of eloquence, which would apply more properly to logics a part only of eloquence, you can knock down my argument and put yours upon its top, I will yield my understanding to your superior skill, and become a disciple of your school. Pledge yourself to me that you will proceed with similar candor, ingenuousness, and love of truth, and I will proceed to furnish you with what I deem a conclusive argument upon this subject. I pause for a reply. As I can hear none, I must presume your consent, and pass onward in my course of reasoning.

It will be allowed on all hands, that the subject of miracles is of fundamental importance, and lies at the very foundation of christianity. Miracles and prophecies form the two-fold seal which Heaven annexes to the revelation of its will to mankind, and by the first of these alone can any one who makes pretension to supernatural communication expect to produce conviction in the minds of others. Miracles are the only authentic credentials of a divine mission. Upon this ground both Moses and the great Founder of the Christian faith rest their claims to credit. In the old and new Testament such extraordinary powers are ascribed to both, and the whole Jewish and Christian world, after mature and thorough examination of the evidence, have assented to the declarations of the holy volume. The question then arises between us, supposing a sufficient number of eye-witnesses to have been satisfied, that the miracles recorded in the gospel have been performed, can human testimony, under any circumstances, and sustained by any corroborations, furnish evidence of such facts which should convince a rational mind? M. Hume and you deny that it can, and found your objection upon the argument, that the evidence which is afforded by human testimony in favor of miracles must always be weaker than that which we have in favor of the established laws of nature, as the first rests upon a variable experience of its truth, and the last upon an invariable experience of their permanence and immutability.

Now you cannot and have not denied that, as I asserted before, the whole force and truth of M. Hume's argument lies in this simple proposition, that the truth or credibility of human testimony always rests upon a variable experience, as mankind are capable of falsehood and imposture. If this proposition cannot be substantiated, his whole superstructure falls to the ground. If it can be shown, that the truth of human testimony does not always rest upon a variable, but sometimes an invariable experience, surely his reasoning is infected with a fatal fallacy, and must be disallowed. Now, to proceed, have I not in my former articles completely exposed the fallacy of this assumption of M. Hume? Have I not demonstrated, that human testimony may be so corroborated by circumstances, and its own intrinsic evidence, that, when thus sustained,

it is liable to no uncertainty, and never was found false in the whole history of man, and amidst the endless vicissitudes of human affairs? Courts of justice are every day listening to testimonies upon which they ground their most important decisions-decisions that vitally affect the fortunes and lives of their fellow men- which they regard as liable to no shadow of exception, and the conclusive force of which they would not allow to be brought in question with any patience or toleration. And these kinds of testimony, too, which our judicial tribunals deem so satisfactory, in its evidence is far below that which was furnished by the evangelists and apostles in reference to the gospel miracles. I say, then, that by a conclusive train of reasoning I have before demonstrated, that M. Hume's principle is false, that all human testimony rests only upon a variable experience of its truth, as there are some kinds of testimony so strongly fortified, that they were never found deceptive from the formation of the world to the present moment. This is a view of the subject, allow me to say, which you have not attempted to invalidate, and the force of which you do not appear rightly to have apprehended. You have either not applied your attention to it so closely as to obtain a just comprehension of it, or attempted to evade its force, by taking refuge in the general declaration, that testimony can never be so accumulated as to outweigh invariable experience. With all due respect to your logical powers, this is not the point at issue between M. Hume, you, and myself. In a refutation of his much-vaunted argument, the question to be solved is, not whether testimony can ever be so strongly confirmed as to outweigh invariable experience, but whether testimony must itself always be subject to the deficiency of resting upon a variable experience. This is the genuine subject of this controversy, and it is a matter of subsequent investigation to determine, whether of the two degrees of evidence, each of which may sometimes amount to certainty, the one or the other is to be preferred. The philosopher can never be disposed to doubt, that we may attain to natural if not mathematical certainty, in regard to the constitution and laws of nature, as well as to matters proved by competent testimony; and a difficulty arises only when these two kinds of proof come in collision with one another, or, in the language of Mr. Locke, when the reports of witnesses clash with the ordinary course of nature. From this more extended view of the subject, I trust you will discern not only the cogency of the argument by which I attempted to refute this objection against miracles, but also the exact aptitude and analogical proof of the illustration by which I enforced it, derived from the fable of the father upon his death bed delivering an admonition to unity among his sons by his bundle of rods. Of this representation you say, without any color of reason, 'The force of the illustration appears to me to be just this, and no more: as a number of sticks are stronger than one stick, so is the testimony of a number of witnesses stronger than that of one witness. That it is so, no one can dispute; but the question then recurs, can testimony be so accumulated as to outweigh invariable experience? M. Hume thinks not, because the ignorance, prejudices, passions, and falsehood of mankind render testimony variable and uncertain in its character.' Now, with all due deference to your philosophical discernment, this illustration was neither introduced to show that 'as a number of sticks are stronger than one stick, so is the testimony of a number of witnesses stronger than that of one witness,' since it would have required a Solomon to deduce this inference, and we pretend to no rivalry with the wisest of mankind; nor was it intended by a recurrence to this fable to prove that testimony may be so accumulated as to outweigh invariable experience,' since the strength of a Sampson must have been put in requisition to lug such a weight into that field of argument. But the simple and sole purpose of that illustration - -a purpose which I presume it has completely answered - was to detect the latent fallacy of M. Hume's reasoning, which infers the general conclusion, that all testimony is supported only by a variable experience of its truth, because some species of testimony are liable to that charge of deficiency. To draw a general conclusion from a partial collection of facts, and more especially when many contradictory facts may be alleged against it, is not only opposed to all ordinary rules of logic, but directly in the teeth of the Baconian