• Thou, who didst once the desolate defend,
The captive's guardian, and the freeman's friend,
Who long hast mourn'd the wrongs that Afric bore,
Mourn'd as a man, but as a patriot more,

Whilst Britain to oppression lent her name,

Partook the plunder, and engrossed the shame,' &c. p. 105. One very common consequence of this very common fault, is false antithesis. The second and sixth lines afford striking examples; Granville Sharp was as much the friend' of the captive as of the freeman; and we are not aware of any sense in which it can be said, that Britain engrossed' the shame of the slave trade, while she only partook of the plunder. So, in another place, we have,

• By hatred cherish'd, and by avarice nurs'd.'

Another consequence is, the peculiar indistinctness for which this poem is remarkable. We do not ascribe the whole of this indistinctness to the negligent construction of the sentences, nor to a want of strength in the substance and precision in the shape of the ideas; it is owing in some degree, as we have already intimated, to the language in which they are arranged being provided first, and (if we may so express it) not being made to fit. The expletive lines, also, are great interruptions to the clear perception of the author's meaning they are a sort of additional medium, and remind us of the effect of double windows.

So little room is left for displaying the merits of this poem, that we shall say no more of its faults; but immediately proceed to abstract a few passages, which are highly creditable to the author's talents. In the following lines she alludes, as Mr. Montgomery had done, to the destruction of the Charibs and the purchase of negroes to supply their place.

• On the same sod, where (Rapine's helpless prey,)
The plumed Indian pin'd his life away,
Enslaved, degraded, doom'd to vile employ,
Deploring still the rifled hive of joy,

There the poor negro, shackled with the chain,
Rears, by his sweltering toil, the nectared cane;
And, wretched exile from his brighter skies,
Breathes o'er the native's grave complaining sighs,
Unconscious on what dust he treads, nor knows

Whose place he takes, whose heritage of woes.' p. 111.

The escape of a negro, who had been taken prisoner in battle by a hostile tribe, is related with considerable spirit and skill in a passage, which, long as it is, we think ourselves bound in justice to the author to transcribe.

446

447

rief he bears the galling chain,
npitied, and unsooth'd his pain.
still breathes the secret prayer,
him not-he still resists despair.
tant far his native village lies,
lls between, or tempests rise;
soul revolves the bold design,

ancy measures back the devicus line,) rough the woods his chartless path to trace, And press through peril to his home's embrace; Hope leaves him not, and in his midnight dream Again he tastes of that delicious stream,

Which through his native vale translucent flows;
Again his own coeval palm he knows ;
Through the rude hamlet's mist of smoke ascends,
And breathes (how lightly!) in the clime of friends.
And is he blest? he doubts-in griev'd amaze
His eyes unclose-Ah,-not on friends to gaze.
From earth he springs with wild convulsive start-
But still the dream of bliss inflames his heart;
In strength sublime he lifts the fettered arm,
And sunders bondage from his manly form-
And is he free with swiftly silent tread
Soft as a shadow, glides he from the shed:
'Tis hope-'tis fear-no bounds his course restrain,
Strong as a torrent rolling o'er the plain-
He chafes the flood-he climbs the mountain steep,
Nor trembles o'er the dim abyss to leap-
With dauntless step disturbs the serpent's brood,
And, spurning caution, plucks the berried food;
But when night's shadow o'er the forest falls,
And every breath the lonely man appals,
From the bruis'd reed he draws the latent fire,
And forms of grassy heaps the blazing pyre.
The sudden splendour flashes through the glen,
The startled lion seeks his gloomy den;
The keen-eyed tiger, scouring for his prey,
Turns from the lucid light in fierce dismay;

Whilst shrieks of death approach the wanderer's ear,
Who keeps with drowsy lid the watch of fear,
And still sits cow'ring o'er the ruddy blaze,
Till pale it fades beneath the morning's rays;
But when, at length, each toil, each danger past,
He faintly views his native hills at last,
Though drooping now, and sickening with decay,
His eyes wax dim, his being melts away;
Yet, yet, he urges on his faltering feet,
His spirit guides him to his wonted seat;
The stream, the tree, in vision imag'd late,
He now beholds, his father's open gate-

Lifts to the humble roof his closing eyes, Drops on the threshold, gazes, whispers, dies.Enough for him with kindred clay to rest On the same bed his foot in childhood prest; Mid living friends, still cherished, to consume, His former home, the guardian of his tomb.' pp. 115–117. The narrative of Mansong, and his mother Nealie, is rather too much expanded, but is far from being destitute of merit. It is possible we should have found more cause for admiration in this poem, if we had found less difficulty in understanding it: and yet we persuade ourselves, that the following passage, notwithstanding its few faults, is the best that could be selected to close our quotations. Even in this, however, we should meet with a mystery altogether inexplica ble and confounding, if denied the liberty of conjectural emendation, and forbidden to read, in the second line, enfolded and enclosed. This, as well as some other obscurities and blemishes, should be charged, perhaps, upon the printer, notwithstanding the general correctness and elegance of the typography.

• Each nation in its shell has once repos'd,
Its wings unfolded, and its form unclos'd;
Each country known, the feeble and the strong,
The magic spell of superstition's song,
Mid reason's twilight sounded in her ear,
Which dup'd the wise and heroes taught to fear
Wild was thy aspect then, immortal Thame,
When Roman chiefs, the mighty heirs of fame,
Plung'd in thy rippling flood the pond'rous oar,
And o'er thy waves the lofty eagles bore.
Now different forms are thine; with swelling pride
Behold yon gallant bark serenely glide;
Prone from her mast she drops the flaunting sail,
And steals with graceful skill the flitting gale:
Blest be her course, no idol guards her prow,
No wat❜ry god receives the tim'rous vow,
No victim bleeds the hostile winds to tame,
No omens issue from the crackling flame,
No augur now pursues with anxious eye
The bird, all reckless of his boding sigh.
At careless ease the helmsman sits reclined,
Auspicious hope the regent of his mind;
Rude though he be, and void of letter'd lore,
He dares the azure page of heav'n explore,
And, leaning on his compass, boldly sweep

Through nature's wide inhospitable deep.' p. 132, 133.

The use of this publication, we hope, will not be confined to the transient gratification of a literary taste, or a passion for VOL. VI.

LI

gorgeous embellishments; nor to the elevation of two poets a little higher in the public esteem, and the inscription of a new name in a respectable situation on the catalogue of female authors. The solemn truths, here invested with so many ornaments, may captivate the heart of some fastidious reader, who would have turned away in disgust from coarser and less attractive instructions. And if no other immediate effect is produced, there is yet an advantage in recalling the public attention to the History of the Slave Trade; a History, which flings confusion into the faces of those who would deify our fallen nature, which awakens the most generous feelings, and cherishes the purest sensibility, invigorates the love of freedom, inspires reverence for active and persevering philanthropy, points out the public benefactor as the worthiest object of imitation, and pays homage to Christianity as the great agent of human happiness.

Art. XI. A Description of the Feroe Islands; containing an Account of their Situation, Climate and Productions; together with [an Account of] the Manners and Customs of the Inhabitants, their Trade, &c. By the Rev. G. Landt. Illustrated with a Map and other Engravings. Translated from the Danish. 8vo. pp. 426. Price 12s. bds. Longman and Co. 1810.

THIS is rather a dull book, on a subject in itself not very enlivening. The causes that render geography an interesting study are various. Some countries delight us by the vestiges they exhibit of former times, and by the asso. ciations they call up of illustrious men or celebrated events; others derive importance from their political relations; others please, again, by the variety of their productions, or the beauty or magnificence of their scenery; and others afford scope for useful reflection, in the distinguishing peculiarities of the people who inhabit them. But in none of these respects are the islands of Feroe remarkable. A group of barren rocks rising out of the sea, their aspect is that of unvaried wildness, while from the remoteness of their situation they are far too inconsiderable to excite the jealoussy or ambition of contending powers. The inhabitants differ but little from the Danes to whom they are tributary: their greatest hero is Magnus Heynessen, and their most splendid atchievements are confined to the skirmishes of freebooters. Still, as it is desirable to possess authentic information of every portion of the globe, we are by no means disposed to undervalue Mr. Landt's performance. Though not distinguished by any great depth of research or enlargement of comprehension, it is manifestly a work of considerable care,

and the result in a great measure of personal observation; though not lively, therefore, it is solid; and conveys a good deal of pertinent intelligence, though its besetting fault is prolixity. Our author has thus introduced himself to the notice of his readers.

6

During a residence of seven years in these islands, where I officiated as a clergyman, I employed such time as I could spare from my public duty in collecting every thing I found worthy of notice in the three kingdoms of nature, in order that I might discharge a promise made to the Society of Natural History, at Copenhagen. With the same view I occasionally visited the different islands, to make myself acquainted with their local situation, as well as with their physical and economical condition; and in the course of my excursions 1 seldom failed, at each place which I examined, to write down short notices of what I observed, and of every thing remarkable that occurred to me; though without any intention, at that time, of communicating the result of my labours to the public.

On my return to Copenhagen, in the year 1798, finding that several of my friends were anxious to obtain a more correct account of these remote islands, I resolved to embrace the opportunity which my leisure then afforded me of gratifying their wishes; and began the following attempt towards a description of them. But, though the memoranda I had made supplied me with valuable materials, I found that in many particulars they were far from being complete; and I was, therefore, obliged to supply the deficiency from such printed works and manuscripts as I was able to procure. These I employed wherever I found them suited to my purpose; but I can safely assert that I never copied any circumstance as authentic without having previously convinced myself of its truth by every means in my power. pp. iv-v.

The book is divided into four chapters which are taken upwith as many sorts of descriptions'-geographical, physical, economical, and political. We cannot profess ourselves violently delighted with this arrangement. The substance of order has been sacrificed to the appearance, for the subordinate divisions have but a very loose connection with the general titles under which they are ranged. Thus, though in a chapter of geographical description' we naturally enough expect to find the situation and extent' of a country, yet it is a novelty to be told in this connection, that a parsonage house contains in general a parlour, a kitchen, one or two. small bed chambers, and an apartment for the servants;' or that a church has room on each side for eight or ten benches on each of which four or five persons can sit.' And though a 'political description of Feroe' may include with great propriety revenue and population,' by what law of association can it be made to comprehend the inseparable subjects of language' and 'diseases?' There is also little less irregula