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Arabia. This is the secret that Mr. D'Israeli has to disclose in the work. No revelation ever came to man except in Arabia; and no human instrument was ever chosen to hear the will of God except one of the Arab race. This is the great object of the book-the exaltation of the Hebrew race. Poor Tancred is made to deplore that his ancestors were "spawned" in the dark recesses of some Baltic forest; and one is apt to think, in reading the work, that the author believes in the Hebrew race having had some superior origin to the rest of mankind. They sprung from Adam, and he was formed out of the red earth in the neighbourhood of Damascus; but the people of this country-flat-nosed Saxons were spawned somewhere on the coasts of the Baltic. Mr. D'Israeli is complimentary; moreover, he is ridiculous. The various efforts made by the Duchess to wean Tancred from his projectnot an extraordinary one in the present age-introduce him to the hollow ways of aristocratic life in London, and again they are painted very black. These efforts were all unsuccessful. The pilgrim left on a new crusade, in search of a revelation, accompanied by a physician, a friend of the family, and a Hebrew courier, from the greatest

Hebrew house in London. There were no incidents by the way. Jerusalem was safely reached, and here is its description :

"The broad moon lingers on the summit of Mount Olivet; but its beam has long left the garden of Gethsemene and the tomb of Absalom, the waters of Kedron and the dark abyss of Jehoshaphat. Full falls its splendour, however, on the opposite city-vivid and defined in its silver blazes. A lofty wall, with turrets, and towers, and frequent gates, undulates with the unequal ground which it covers as it encircles the lost capital of Jehovah. It is a city of hills, far more famous than those of Rome: for all Europe has heard of Sion and of Calvary, while, the Arab and the Assyrian, and the tribes and nations beyond, are as ignorant of the Capitolian and Aventine Mounts, as they are of the Malvern or the Chiltern Hills.

"The broad steep of Sion, crowned with the tower of David; nearer still, Mount Moriah, with the gorgeous temple of the God of Abraham, but built, alas! by the child of Hagar, and not by Sarah's chosen one; close to its cedars and its cypresses, its lofty spires and airy arches, the moonlight falls upon Bethesda's pool; further on, entered by the gate of St. Stephen, the eye, though 'tis the noon of night, traces with ease the street of Grief, a long winding ascent to a vast cupolaed pile that now covers Calvary, called the street of Grief, because there the most illustrious of the human, as well as of the Hebrew race, the descendant of King David, and the divine Son of the most favoured of women, twice sank under that burden of suffering and shane, which is now throughout all Christendom the emblem of triumph and of honour; passing over groups and masses of houses built of stone, with terraced roofs or surmounted with small domes, we reach the hill of Salem, where Melchisedeck built his mystic citadel and still remains the hill of Scopas, where Titus gazed upon Jerusalem on the eve of his final assault. Titus destroyed the temple. The religion of Judea has in turn subverted the fanes, which were raised to his father and to himself in their imperial capital; and the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, is now worshipped before every altur in Rome.

Jerusalein by moonlight! 'Tis a fine spectacle, apart from all its indissoluble associations of awe and beauty. The mitigating hour softens the austerity of a mountain landscape magnificent in outline, however harsh and sewere in detail; and, while it retains all its sublimity, removes much of the savage sternness of the strange and unrivalled scene. A fortified city almost surrounded by ravines, and rising in the centre of chains of far spreading hills, occasionally offering, through their rocky glens, the gleams of a distant and richer land!

"The moon has sunk behind the Mount of Olives, and the stars in the darker sky shine doubly bright over the sacred city. The all pervading stillness is broken by a breeze, that seems to have travelled over the plain of Sharon from the sea. It wails among the tombs and sighs

VOL. XIV.-NO. CLXIV.

among the cypress groves. The palm tree trembles as it
Is it the breeze that
passes as if it were a spirit of woe.
has travelled over the plain of Sharon from the sea? Or
is it the haunting voice of prophets mourning over the city
that they could not save? Their spirits surely would lin-
ger on the land where their Creator had deigned to dwell,
and over whose impending fate, Omnipotence had shed
human tears. From this Mount! Who can but believe
that, at the midnight hour, from the summit of the Ascen
sion the great departed of Israel assemble to gaze upon the
battlements of their mystic city? There might be counted
heroes and sages who need shrink from no rivalry with the
brightest and the wisest of other lands; but the lawgiver

of the time of the Pharoahs, whose laws are still obeyed,
the monarch whose reign has ceased for three thousand
years, but whose wisdom is a proverb in all nations of the
earth; the teacher whose doctrines have modelled civilized
Europe; the greatest of legislators, the greatest of admin-
istrators, and the greatest of reformers, what race, extinct
or living, can produce three such men as these!
"The last light is extinguished in the village of Bethany.
The wailing breeze has become a moaning wind; a white
film spreads over the purple sky; the stars are veiled, the
stars are hid; all becomes as dark as the waters of Kedron,
and the valley of Jehoshaphat. The tower of David merges
into obscurity; no longer glitter the minarets of the Mosque
of Omar; Bethesda's angelic waters, the gate of Stephen,
the street of sacred sorrow, the hill of Saleri, and the
heights of Scopas, can no longer be discerned, Alone in
the increasing darkness, while the very line of the walls
is a beacon light.

gradually eludes the eye; the church of the Holy Sepulchre

"And why is the church of the Holy Sepulchre a beacon light? Why, when it is already past the noon of darkness, when every soul slumbers in Jerusalem, and not a sound disturbs the deep repose, except the howl of the wild dog erving to the wilder wind-why is the cupola of the sanctuary illumined, though the hour has long since been numbered, when pilgrims there kneel and monks pray!

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An armed Turkish guard are bivouacked in the court of the church; within the church itself; two brethren of the convent of Terra Santa keep holy watch and ward; while, at the tomb beneath, there kneels a solitary youth, who prostrated himself at sunset, and who will there pass unmoved the whole of the sacred night.

Such is Mr. D'Israeli's description of the hills about Jerusalem by moonlight; but the ancient city has its gossipers. In the divan of a wealthy Jow, idlers discussed Tancred's object in going there. Some said he was the Queen of England's brother come over to sell cottons; but here are their speculations;—

"So there was a fine pilgrimage last night; the church of the Holy Sepulchre lighted up from sunset to sunrise, an extra guard in the court and only the Spanish prior and two brethren premitted to enter. It must be 10,000 piastres at least in the coffers of the Terra Sunta. Well, they want something! it is a long time since we have had a Latin pilgrim in El Khuds.'

"Yet you have heard what he has done. "And why is this silent Frenchman smoking your la He comes to Jerutakia,' he continued, in a low voice. salem at the same time as this Englishman. There is more in this than meets our eye. You do not know the northern nations. They exist only in politicul combinations. You are not a politician, my Besso. Depend upon it we shall hear more of this Englishman, and of his doing something else than praying at the Holy Sepulchre.' "It may be so, most noble Emir, but as you say I am no politician.'

"Would that you were, my Besso! it would be well for See, now,' he added, in a whisper, you and for all of us. "And they say after all that this was not a Latm pilgrim,' said Barizy of the tower.

"He could not have been one of my people,' said the Armenian, or he never would have gone to the Holy Sepulchre with the Spanish prior.'

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'Had he been one of your people,' said Pasqualigo, he could not have paid 10,000 piastres for a pilgrimage.' ***I am sure a Greek never would,' said Barízy, unless he were a Russian prince.'

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***And a Russian does not care much for rosaries, unless they are made of diamonds,' said Pasqualigo.

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"As far as I can make out this morning,' said Barizy of the tower, it is a brother of the Queen of England." "I was thinking it might be that,' said Pasqualigo, net

2 B

tled at his rival's early information, 'the moment I heard | emblazoned in a manner more permanent, and more he was an Englishman.'

"The English do not believe in the Holy Sepulchre,' said the Armenian, calmly.

"They do not believe in our blessed Saviour,' said Pasqualigo, but they do believe in the Holy Sepulchre.'

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• Pasqualigo's strong point was theology, and there were few persons in Jerusalem who, on this head, ventured to maintain an argument with him.

"How do you know that the pilgrim is an Englishman? asked their host.

Because his servants told me so,' said Pasqualigo. "He has got an English general for the principal officer of his household,' said Barizy, which looks like blood royal, a very fine man, who passes the whole day at the English consulate.'

They have taken a house in the Via Dolorosa,' said Pasqualigo. "Of Hassan Nejed continued Barizy of the tower, clutching the words out of his rival's grasp; "Hassan asked five thousand piastres per month, and they gave it!" What think you of that?'

"He must indeed be an Englishman,' said Scheriff Effendi, taking his pipe slowly from his mouth. There was a dead silence when he spoke; he was much respected. "He is very young, said Barizy of the Tower; 'younger than the Queen, which is one reason why he is not on the throne; for, in England, the eldest always succeeds, except in moveables, and those always go to the youngest.'

"Barizy of the Tower, though he gave up to Pasqualigo in theology, partly from delicacy, being a Jew, would yield to no man in Jerusalem in his knowledge of law.

"It he goes on at this rate,' said the Armenian, he will soon spend all his money. This place is dearer than Stambool.'

"There is no fear of his spending all his money,' said their host, for the young man has brought me such a letter, that if he were to tell me to rebuild the temple, must do it.'

"And who is this young man, Besso,' exclaimed the Invisible, starting up, and himself exhibiting a youthful countenance; fair, almost effeminate; no beard, a slight moustache, his features too delicate, but his brow finely arched, and his blue eye glittering with fire.

"He is an English lord,' said Besso, and one of the greatest; that is all I know.'

"And why does he come here?' inquired the youth. The English do not make pilgrimages." that apparently inanimate mass, Scheriff Effendi; that man has a political head, he understands a combination, he is going to smuggle me five thousand English muskets into the Desert. He will deliver them to a Bedoueen tribe, who have engaged to convey them safely to the mountain. There; what do you think of that, my Besso! Do you know now what are politics? Tell the Rose of Sharon of it. She will say it is beautiful. Ask the Rose what she thinks of it, my Besso.'

"Well, I shall see her to-morrow.' "I have done well; have I not?' "You are satisfied; that is well."

"Not quite, my Besso; but I can be satisfied, if you please.'

"You see that Scheriff Effendi there, sitting like an Afrite-he will not give me the muskets unless I pay him for them-and the Bedoueen chief, he will not carry the arms unless I give him 10,000 piastres. Now if you will pay these people for me, my Besso, and deduct the expences from my Lebanon Loan when it is negotiated, that would be a great service. Now, now, my Besso, shall it be done!" he continued, with the coaxing voice, and with the wheedling manner of a girl. "You shall have any terms you like, and I will always love you so, my Besso. Let it be done, let it be done! I will go down on my knees, and kiss your hand before the Frenchman, which will spread your fame throughout Europe, and make Louis Philippe take you for the first man in Syria, if you will do it for me. Dear, dear, Besso, you will pay that old camel Scheriff Effendi for me-will you not?-and please the Rose of Sharon as much as me!

"My prince,' said Besso, 'have a fresh pipe; I never can transact business after sunset.'

"The reader will remember that Sidonia had given Tancred a letter of credit on Besso. He is the same Besso who was the friend, at Jerusalem, of Contarini Fleming, and this is the same chamber in which Contarini, his host, and others who were present, inscribed one night, before their final separation, certain sentences in the panels of the walls. The original writing remains, but Besso, as we have already seen, has had the sentences

striking to the eye. They may, however, be both seen by all those who visit Jerusalem, and who enjoy the flowing hospitality, and experience the boundless benevolence of this prince of Hebrew merchants."

Tancred meanwhile was engaged in making up an acquaintance with Besso's only daughter, in her garden at Bethany. He had wandered uninvited into the kiosk. The sun of Syria was strong. The fountains were alluring. He sat down by one of them, and fell asleep. While he slept, Eva, Besso's daughter, walking in the garden, threw a cloak over the Saxon youth to shield him from the sun; and, when he waked, the lady was watching by the fountain. It is quite romantic. Instead of sending her servants to turn out the intruder, this Oriental damsel flung a cloak, or a shawl, or something else, over the Saxon's head to guard him from a sun-stroke, and watched beside him while he slept. It is thoroughly romantic this meeting of the Marquis from Yorkshire, and Miss Eva Besso of Jerusalem, at Bethany. What could come of it? We shall see. The parties introduced themselves, and went right into the most important matters, like old friends at once :

66

The path to the right leads to Bethany."

"The force of association brought back the last words that he had heard from a human voice. And can he sleep without seeing Bethany? He mounts the path. What a landscape surrounds him as he moves! What need for nature to be fair in a scene like this, where not a spot is visible that is not heroic or sacred, consecrated or memorable; not a rock that is not the cave of prophets; not a valley that is not the valley of heaven-anointed kings; not a mountain that is not the mountain of God!"

"Before him is a living, a yet breathing and existing city, which Assyrian monarchs came down to besiege, which the chariots of Pharoahs encompassed, which Roman Emperors have personally assailed, for which Saladin and Cœur de Lion, the Desert and Christendom, Asia and Europe, struggled in rival chivalry-a city which Mahomet sighed to rule, and over which the Creator alike of Assyrian kings, and Egyptian Pharoahs, and Roman Cæsars, the framer alike of the Desert, and of Christendom, poured forth the full effusion of his divinely human sorrow.

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What need of cascade and of cataract, the deep green turf, the foliage of the fairest trees, the impenetrable forest, the abounding river, mountains of glaciered crest, the voice of birds, the bounding forms of beauteous animals-all sights and sounds of inaterial loveliness, that might become the delicate ruins of some archaic theatre, or the lingering fanes of some forgotten faith! They would not be observed as the eye seized on Sion and Calvary, the gates of Bethlehem and Damascus, the hill of Titus, the mosque of Mahomet and the tomb of Christ. The view of Jerusalem is the history of the world: it is more, it is the history of earth and of heaven."

"I was tempted by the first sight of a palm tree to a step too bold, and then sitting by this fountain; I know not how it was'

"You yielded to our Syrian sun,' said the lady. It has been the doom of many; but you, I trust, will not find it fatal. Walking in the garden with my maidens, we observed you, and one of us covered your head. If you remain in this land you should wear the turban.'"

"This garden seems a paradise,' said Tancred, 'I had not thought that anything so fair could be found among these awful mountains. It is a spot that quite becomes Bethany.' "You, Franks, love Bethany?'

666

Naturally: a place to us most dear and interesting.' "Pray, are you of those Franks who worship a Jewess; or of those other who revile her, break her inages, and blaspheme her pictures ?'

"I venerate, though I do not adore the mother of God, said Tancred with emotion.

"Ah! the mother of Jesus!' said his companion, ‘He is your God. He lived much in this village, He was a great man, but he was Jew, and you worhip him.'

"And you do not worship him? said Tancred looking up to her with an enquiring glance, and with a reddening cheek.

"It sometimes seems to me that I ought,' said the lady, for I am of his race, and you should sympathize with your race.'

"You are then a Hebrew ?'"

"I am of the same blood as Mary whom you venerate but will not adore.'

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"You just now observed,' said Tancred, after a momentary pause, that it sometimes almost seems to you that you ought to acknowledge my Lord and Master. He made many converts at Bethany, and found here some of his gentlest disciples. I wish that you had read the history of his life.'

"I have read it. The English Bishop here has given me the book. It is a good one, written, I observe, entirely by Jews. I find in it many things with which I agree; and if there be some from which I dissent, it may be that I do not comprehend them.'"

"You are already half a Christian!" said Tancred with animation.

"But the Christianity which I draw from your book, does not agree with the Christianity which you practise,' said the lady; and I fear, therefore, it may be hereti

cal.'"

"The Christian Church would be your guide.' "Which?' enquired the lady; there are so many in Jerusalem. There is the good bishop who presented me with this volume, and who is himself a Hebrew-he is a

Church: there is the Latin Church, which was founded by a Hebrew there is the Armenian Church, which belongs to an eastern nation, who, like the Hebrews, have lost their country, and are scattered in every clime : there is the Abyssinian Church, who holds us in great honour, and practise many of our rites and ceremonies : and there are the Greek, the Maronite, and the Coptic Churches, who do not favour us, but who do not treat us as grossly as they treat each other.'"

Tancred's subsequent doings in Syria are those of a mad enthusiast. He makes a pilgrimage to Sinai, expecting an answer to his mission there; is attacked by the Rechabites whose chief is Eva's grandfather; fights; is wounded; a prisoner; relieved on parole; visits Sinai; returns in fever; is nursed by Eva; and recovers from the use of her wild herbs; scrapes up an acquaintance with a wild Emir of the Lebanon; takes farewell of Eva, who leaves on her journey to be betrothed to one of her tribe, while Tancred departs for the Lebanon; resides with the Emir; plots with him to revolutionise Asia Minor; holds meetings with the chiefs; journies with his friend the Emir to Aleppo; is introduced to Besso, the rich Jew; meets again his daughter and her lover, and departs on a journey to the young Queen of the Ansarey, whom the Emir expects to interest in the revolution of Asia Minor. The Ansarey are not, however, accessible. They live alone, cherishing old customs, and worshipping the old Heathen deities in the midst of the Syrian mountains. The interview between Baroni, Tancred's Hebrew courier, and the agent of the Ansarey in Aleppo, is so amusing, that we quote it:

"Seated on what may be called his counter, smoking a nargilly, in a mulberry-coloured robe, bordered with fur, and a dark turban, was a middle-aged man of sinister countenance and air, a long hook nose and a light blue

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"Not too long,' said Baroni; ' and have you been here since my last visit?'

Here and there,' said the man, offering him his pipe.

"And how are our friends in the mountains?' said Baroni, touching the tube with his lips and returning it. "They live,' said the man.

"That's something,' said Baroni. "Have you been in the land of the Franks?' said the man.

"I am always in the land of the Franks,' said Baroni, ' and about.'

"You don't know any one who wants a parcel of scammony?' said the man.

"I don't know that I don't,' said Baroni, mysteriously. "I have a very fine parcel,' said the man, it is very

scarce.

"No starch or myrrh in it?' asked Baroni. "Do you think I am a Jew?' said the man. "I never could make out what you were, friend Darknsh; but as for scammony, I could throw a good deal of business in your way at this moment, to say nothing of galls and tragacanth.

"As for tragacanth,' said Darkush, it's known that no one in Esh Sham has pure tragacanth except me; as afis, but is it afis of Moussoul Effendi?' for galls every foundling in Syria thinks he can deal in

"What you say are the words of truth, good Darkush: I could recommend you with a safe conscience. I dreamed last night that there would be many piastres pass between us this visit,'

"What is the use of friends, unless they help you in the hour of adversity! exclaimed Darkush.

"You speak ever the words of truth. I am myself in a valley of dark shadows. I am travelling with a young English capitani, a prince of many tails; and he has declared that he will entirely extinguish my existence, unless he pays a visit to the Queen of the Ansarey.'

"Let him first pay a visit to King Soliman in the cities of the Gin,' said Darkush, doggedly.

"I am not sure that he will not, sometime or other,' replied Baroni, for he is a man who will not take nay. But now let us talk of scammony,' he added, vaulting on the counter, and seating himself by the side of Darkush; ' one might get more by arranging this visit to your mountains than by enjoying an appalto of all its gums, friend Darkush; but if it cannot be, it cannot be.'

"It cannot be.'

"Let us talk then of scammony. You remember my old master, Darkush?'

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There are many things that are forgotten but he is not one.'

"This capitani with whom I travel; this prince of many also him who served you. tails, is his friend. If you serve me now, you serve

"There are things that can be done, and there are things that cannot be done.'

666

Let us talk then of scammony. But fifteen years ago, when we first met, friend Darkush, you did not say nay to M. de Sidonia. It was the plague alone that stopped us.'

"The snow on the mountain is not the same snow as fifteen years ago, Effendi. All things change!'

"Let us talk then of scammony. The Ansarey have friends in other lands, but if they will not listen to them, many kind words will be lost. Things also might happen which would make every body's shadow longer. But if there be no sun their shadows cannot be seen.'

"Darkush shrugged his shoulders.

"If the sun of friendship does not illumine me,' resumed Baroni, I am entirely lost in the bottomless vale. Truly, I would give a thousand piastres, if I could save my head by taking the capitam to your mountains.'

"The Princes of Franguestan cannot take off heads,' observed Darkush. "All they can do is to banish you to islands inhabitated by demons.

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But the capitani of whom I speak is prince of many tails, is the brother of Queens. Even the great Queen of the English, they say, is his sister.'

"He who serves Queen's may expect backsheesh.' "And you serve a Queen, Darkush.'

"Which is the reason I cannot give you a pass for the mountains, as I would have done fifteen years ago, in the time of her father.'

"Are her commands then so strict?'

"That she should see neither Moslem nor Christian. She is at war with both, and will be for ever, for the quarrel between them is beyond the power of man to

remove.'

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"That you can learn only in the mountains of the Ansarey,' said Darkush with a malignant smile.

"Baroni fell into a musing mood After a few moments thought he looked up and said-" What you have told me friend, Darkush, is very interesting, and throws light on many things. This young prince, whom I serve, is a friend to your race, and knows well why you are at war both with Moslem and Christian, for he is so himself. But he is a man sparing of words, dark in thought, and terrible to deal with. Why, he wishes to visit your people, I dared not inquire, but now I guess, from what you have let fall, that he is an Ansarey himself. He has come from

a far land merely to visit his race, a man who is a prince among the people to whom piasters are as water. I doubt not he has much to say to your queen. Things might have happened that would have lengthened all our shadows; but never mind, what cannot be cannot be; let us talk then of scammony.

You think he is one?" said Darkush in a lower tone, and looking very inquiringly.

"I do,' said Baroni.

"And what do you mean by one?' said Darkush. "That is exactly the secret which I never could penetrate.'

"I cannot give a pass to the mountains,' said Darkush, but the sympathy of friends is a river flowing in a fair garden. If this prince, whose words and thoughts are dark, should indeed, be one- -could I see him Effendi?'

"It is a subject on which I dare not speak to him,' said Baroni. I hinted at his coming here: his brow was the brow of Eblis; his eye flashed like the red lightning of the Kamsin.-It is impossible! What cannot be done, cannot be done. He must return to the land of his fathers, unseen by your queen, of whom he is perhaps a brother; he will live, hating alike Moslem and Christian; but he will banish me for ever to islands of many demons."

The queen shall know of these strange things,' said Darkush, and we will wait for her words.' "Wait for the Mecca caravan exclaimed Baroni.

'You know not the child of storms, who is my master, and that is ever a reason why I think he must be one of you. For had he been softened by Christianity, or civilized by the Koran,——

66.

Unripe figs for your Christianity and your Koran!' exclaimed Darkush. Do you know what we think of your Christianity and your Koran?'

'No,' said Baroni, quietly.

Tell me.'"

"You will learn in our mountains,' said Darkush.
"Then you mean to let me go there?'
"If the queen permit you,' said Darkush."

"I am here,' said Tancred, advancing from the kiosk, pale and agitated. Why am I wanted ?' "Colonel Brace began to explain, but all seemed to speak at the same time.

"The Duke and Duchess of Bellamont had arrived at Jerusalem."

So the third volume closes, and we are left to guess the consequences; though we trust that Eva lost not her own heart and her lover's hand; for the young Jewess is the finest character in the work,

What is Religion? The question answered.
Henry Colman. London: Chapman Brothers.

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By

We hope Mr. Colman means well by this discourse; but we take leave to doubt it. It is the substance of what he seems to have held forth, on Sunday, September 27th, 1846, at the New Gravel-Pit Chapel, Hackney, near London, for the first time," as he says, "in his life, and, in all human probability, for the last." Mr. Colman is not, therefore, a regular preacher, and perhaps merits the application of the admonition, ne sutor ultra crepidam. His wish, he alleges, is "to aid, in a very humble way, the cause of universal forbearance and charity." But it seems to us that he sets to work exactly in the way that Swift accuses those people of doing, who, under the name of weeding out prejudices, would attempt to eradicate virtue, morality, and religion. We should regret to do Mr. Colman any wrong; but it is ominous of something not quite orthodox to find him taking for his motto, from self, such a sentence as this: "People will not believe an anonymous author, who is probably Mr. Colman himthat it is possible to be religious without a religion.”

Does Mr. Colman believe so? We are led to think he

may be so absurd, for we see that in his notes he ventures
to assert that "if Christianity exist only where the name
of Christ is acknowledged, its extension is limited indeed."
We should doubt if Mr. Colman knows anything about
Christianity.

Christendom and Heathendom: or Sound and Sense.
An Allegory. London: Olliviere.

Permission was granted for the travellers to proceed. They went on their way; met the Queen; visited her idol gallery; and were making progress in their negotiation, when her Majesty was pleased to take a fancy for Tancred, and was disposed to make him King of the Ansarey—an honour which, at the same time, the Emir desired for himself. So he whispered to the Queen that the Queen of England's brother was insane, or nearly; betrothed to a Jewess, whom he wanted to place on the throne of Syria; and this Jewess was Eva. Unfortunately, Eva, journeying with her father, the person to whom she was to be betrothed, and a Turkish guard, met the Ansarey ;-a combat ensued, the Turks were As we are somewhat at a loss how to characterize or defeated, Besso was wounded, and Eva taken prisoner. even to describe a work which has been pointed out to our She was handed over to the Queen, and in the end senspecial attention, it may save the reader's time to say, in tenced to die, because Tancred loved her. The Emir few words, that here the opinions and doctrines found in had, however, been indebted to her father, and felt ob- the singular lucubrations of Mr. Urquhart, and in the liged to rescue the lady. Tancred was left alone, and mysterious publication named the Portfolio, are promulmade General-in-Chief of the Ansarey. In that capa-gated in substance, but in a new form. Without pretendcity he fought a battle with the Turks, and gained a brilliant victory; and having gained it, ran off; escaped to Jerusalem; met with Eva in the kiosk at Bethany again, and at evening and alone. They had undergone many adventures since they met there first. It was natural to speak of them, and natural to go farther. They had just come to a full and perfect understanding on their position, when

"At this moment a shout was heard, repeated and increased; soon the sound of many voices and the tramp of persons approaching. The vivid and brief twilight had died away. Almost suddenly it had become night. The voices became more audible, the steps were at hand. Tancred recognised his name, frequently repeated. Behold a crowd of many persons, several of them bearing torches. There was Colonel Brace in the van; on his right was the Rev. Mr. Bernard; on his left Dr. Roby. Freeman and Trueman and several guides and native servants were in the rear, most of them proclaiming the name of Lord Montacute.

ing to disguise or deny the sins and shortcomings of Chris-
tendom, we cannot, however, believe that the sun moves
from west to east, or is likely soon to do so.

Free Thoughts on Protestant Matters. By the Rev. T.
D. Gregg, M.A. Second Edition. Dublin: Curry &
Co. 1847.

This is a second edition of Mr. Tresham Gregg's book,
for he boasts of having already disposed of 1200 of a first
impression. That it is devoted to advocate
the adop-
tion of a policy by the State which may involve the as-
cendancy of the Established Church," is scarcely sufficient
to account for this amount of popularity within the
year of its appearance;" for Mr. Gregg himself admits
that what he terms "the alteration in the British Consti-
tution caused by the repeal of the Test and Corporation
Acts and the Bill of 1829, whereby," he says, ** Roman

Catholics, and Dissenters from the Church of all sorts, have been admitted to a participation in the government of the realm,” have rendered it "totally vain to expect" this exploded consummation. Neither do we suppose the fame of the publication before us to be greatly derived from its dedication to Mr. Benjamin D'Israeli, M.P., in the somewhat forlorn hope that he "may tend to avert impending ruin, and guarantee, at the same time, the integrity of the Empire, the safety of the Crown, and the well-being and happiness of the people." Mr. Gregg gives in his adhesion to Mr. D'Israeli for his triumphant exposure of the apostate Minister who, in preferring a base expediency to sacred principle, has not only betrayed the cause of truth but given a shock to public morality!" This amusing dedication is a fair sample of

the whole context.

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Ir is pretty well settled that James Montgomery is an adept in the difficult department of the sacred lyre; the attempts of his more aspiring namesake Robert have been scarcely so successful. It were rash, perhaps, to Memoir of the Rev. Henry Francis Cary, M.A. By venture upon a criticism of this work under its new title

his Son. In two vols. London: Edward Moxon. 1847.

Ir Cary were not acknowledged to be the most free translator of Dante, he must be regarded as the most faithful. We hardly know if any translation ever came up so closely to its original as Cary's Dante. The reproduction of a work so comprehensive, necessarily presupposes literary training and accomplishments of the highest order on the part of the translator: and the literary student, who asks for a model of study, will rejoice to learn that the literary journals and correspondence of this great scholar are included in the two volumes of biography, which the filial piety of the Rev. H. Cary, of Worcester College, Oxford, has prompted him to produce. The literary journals evince certainly astounding monuments of persevering study-quite such as we would expect in the translator of Dante. But, in addition to the hard-earned literary character of this excellent man, his correspondence, embodied in the Memoir, establishes the fact of his possessing the most amiable qualities of heart and gentleness of disposition.

Key to the Questions on Generalities. By G. M. Sterne.
London: Longmans.

schools assumes.

of "Sacred Meditations," when we are met at the out-
set with the information that, to the "high opinion ex-
pressed by the public, both of the poetical character and
moral worth of The Sacred Gift,' by Robert Montgo-
mery," we owe this reprint of it in a more popular form.
Now, with the utmost deference to "the public," we
should incline to solicit less rashness' in pronouncing these
little opinions; for, really, we cannot help thinking that
Mr. Montgomery's "Moral Themes and Meditations"
will be found somewhat turgid and inflated. Indeed,
Mr. Montgomery has been flattered by this mistaken
kindness into the error of erecting an entirely new stan-
dard of criticism. The Omnipresence of the Deity,"
for instance, is upheld as an immaculate piece of poetry,
because it has now reached its twenty-third edition; and
also that "the assault made by the Edinburgh Review
on The Omnipresence' is no longer in the remotest de-
gree applicable; inasmuch as every single passage, with-
out a solitary exception, which that review censured, has
This is highly amusing,
been revised and corrected."
and amazingly modest!

Poens. By Ralph Waldo Emerson. London: Chap-
man, Brothers.

Those who have seen this writer's Essays, edited by We think the "Questions on Generalities" very likely Mr. Carlyle, can neither have forgotten them nor fail to to be useful as a book of exercises; although we object experience a strong desire to know how so bold and origiprecisely to what the critics, for the most part, praise-nal a prose writer may come forth as a poet. If, like its generality. Miss Sterne has derived the idea of the work from practical experience in her school. Practical experience is the best possible source of improvement. But we rather fear that generalities of all sorts are too frequently the specious forms which instruction in ladies' And, strange to say, while we should have thought rather better of ladies' schools for the invention displayed by Miss Sterne in getting up a set of questions even on 66 Generalities," six or a dozen off which being given to the pupil to answer in writing within a week, stimulates individual research in the proper books supplied for the purpose, we think rather worse of the matter since we have seen the lady's Key to the "Generalities'' in question. We do not, for instance, think the following oracular response altogether a model for composition:

"Alfred possessed qualities far more noble than those of a warlike chief: as a legislator, a promotor of learning.

ourselves, they come to the conclusion that Emerson is
more poetical in his prose essays than in his rugged
though vigorous rhymes, no great harm will be done.
The man appears alike in both: daring, eccentric, rush-
ing on in his impetuous course, without once heeding
whom he jostles or oversets, so that he awakens or as-
tounds. In the mere
46 accomplishment of verse," Mr.
Emerson shows numerous, and probably irreparable de-
fects. He has a bad, an unmusical, or unrythmical ear,
yet is there more true poetry in some of his tuneless
pieces than in many volumes of well-scanned, melodious
verse. We must, however, confess that we have met
with no late volume of poetry which supplies more tempt-
ing material to critics inclined to scoffing and derision.
Let them scoff: Byron, Wordsworth, Keats, and many
more, have passed through a more severe ordeal than
that by which Mr. Emerson may be tried, not merely un-
scathed but triumphant. IIe is neither a Wordsworth

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