cals; and no reviewer, we may hope, will omit to extract entire the fourteenth chapter of the second volume, recording a mutiny and military execution, in a manner every way worthy of Walter Scott. The engraved portrait of Cromwell, with which the first volume is embellished, bears on its front the stamp of authenticity. We are surprised, however, at the sweet smile about the mouth! Surely, the Protector looked not so lovingly.

COMPANION TO THE TOURIST IN EUROPE.' A NEW FRENCH MANUAL: Comprising a Guide to French Pronunciation, a copious Vocabulary, Selection of Phrases; a Series of Conversations on the Curiosities, Manners, and Amusements of Paris, and during various Tours in Europe; Models of Letters, etc. Designed as a Guide to the Traveller, and an attractive Class Book for the Student. By GABRIEL SURRENNE, French Teacher to the Military and Naval Academy, Edinburgh. From the fourth Edinburgh edition. Revised and enlarged, by A. PESTIAUX, Professor of the French Language, New-York. In one volume. pp. 244. New-York: WILEY AND PUTNAM. LITTLE need be added to the above copious title, in relation to the character of this excellent Manual. The student of French will soon be enabled, by the aid of this book, and with very little application, to become acquainted with such phrases as are used in conversation, and which it is absolutely necessary he should understand. An original and valuable feature in the work, is that portion of the volume entitled 'Modern Conversation, or Descriptive Dialogues in French and English,' composed expressly for this book, upon subjects of the greatest interest to the modern traveller. 'In these, the student or tourist will find a minute account of every object of curiosity in Paris, given in French and English, and the correct pronunciation of the former language, according to the most polite usages, exhibited by means of Italic letters and connecting marks.' The author has entirely succeeded, as it seems to us, in combining a concise and luminous view of the spoken language of France, with a valuable companion for the English or American traveller.

SONNETS. BY EDWARD MOxon. In one volume. pp. 75. London, 1838. NewYork: WILEY AND PUTNAM.

THE poetic feeling is apparent in all these sonnets, and many of them possess the added merits of beauty and grace in composition. A love of nature, and a due estimate of virtue and the gentle affections, are prominent features in this very handsome volume. We have room but for the following:

'HERE sleeps beneath this bank, where daisies grow,
The kindliest sprite Earth holds within her breast;

In such a spot I would this frame should rest,
When I to join my friend far heuce shall go.
His only mate is now the minstrel lark,

Who chants her morning music o'er his bed,
Save she who comes each evening, ere the bark
Of watch-dog gathers drowsy folds, to shed
A sister's tears. Kind Heaven, upon her head
Do thou in dove-like guise thy Spirit pour,
And in her aged path some flow'rets spread,
Of earthly joy, should Time for her in store
Have weary days and nights, ere she shall greet
Him whom she longs in Paradise to meet!'

This sonnet refers to the lamented LAMB, and the daily visits to his grave of his affectionate sister, whom 'ELIA' has immortalized. Lamb was a warm friend of our author, and more than once alludes to him in his correspondence,

ALICE, OR THE MYSTERIES: A SEQUEL TO 'ERNEST MALTRAVERS.' By the author of 'Pelham,' 'Rienzi,' etc. In two volumes. pp. 448. New-York: HARPER AND BROTHERS.

BEFORE these pages can have reached our readers, this latest novel of Mr. BULWER will have become familiar to a large majority of his American admirers. We shall not, therefore, attempt a connected review of the work, but content ourselves with a few general and brief remarks in relation to its literary merits. Our author has evidently profited by the criticisms upon the production to which this is a sequel. While it is undeniable that 'Ernest Maltravers' could not fail to have a bad effect upon minds whose principles were not yet ossified, by shedding a mild lustre over gilded vice, it is equally true, that 'Alice' is mainly free from kindred blemishes. It is, indeed, a well conceived and admirably written novel. The prominent characters are drawn with exceeding skill, and the main incidents move on with increasing rapidity and force to the end of the volumes. The elegance of diction, the conciseness and felicity of expression, peculiar to Mr. BULWER, not less than the power of graphic description, for which he is remarkable, are here abundantly exhibited; while, ever and anon, new truths are brought forward, or old ones adorned, in those golden mazes of exquisite illustration, through which our author so loves to wind. We were about to commend the work to the reader's favorable regards, but that were a labor of supererogation.

AN HISTORICAL DISCOURSE ON THE CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS AFFAIRS OF THE COLONY OF RHODE ISLAND. BY JOHN CALLENDER, M. A. With a Memoir of the Author; Biographical notices of some of his distinguished contemporaries; and annotations and original documents, illustrative of the History of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, from the first settlement to the end of the first century. By PROF. ELTON, of Brown University. Providence. New-York: APPLETON AND COMPANY.

We are glad to see this valuable historical document re-published, with the additions above enumerated. It was delivered and published in Newport, (R. I.,) just one hundred years since, and has always been considered a document of great interest, embracing a history of that state, during the first century of its existence as a colony; a period of deep interest, as the opinions then disseminated continue in full force, and have stamped the character of the people even to the present generation, with that freedom of opinion, that public spirit and enterprise, that simplicity of manners, which were the most prominent traits in her first colonists. It is pleasing, too, to contrast the manner in which Roger Williams and the little band which accompanied him, became possessed of their lands, with the disgraceful means resorted to, in the present civilized age, to obtain the lands of the aborigines, at the south. In addition to the discourse, which constitutes about one half the volume, are biographical sketches of John Callender, President Stiles, Roger Williams, Rev. William Blackstone, Bishop Berkley and others; beside many interesting documents relative to the several religious sects, of the period, Indian conveyances of land, charter of king Charles II., July 8, 1663, etc., etc. Professor Elton has done himself much credit, in bringing to light the present work in so satisfactory a manner, and we hope to see other historical documents as well illustrated.

The typographical execution of the volume is not surpassed by any similar American production. It reflects credit on the editor, as well as the Rhode Island Historical Society, under the auspices of which it was published.

EDITORS' TABLE.

'WILSON CONWORTH.' The last chapter of this eventful history appears in the present number. It has been received with signal favor, portions of almost every successive chapter having been widely circulated in the journals of the Union. It may not be amiss to add, that the writer will continue a constant contributor to this Magazine. What ensues, will explain to those who have followed the fortunes of CONWORTH, how the мss. came into the hands of his editors. It was received with, and should have accompanied, the first number, published in January, 1837.

'WEARIED With the toils of professional life, I set out in the summer of 1833, to make the tour of the western states. I had scarcely shaken off the idea that I had really got away from clients, and the insufferable atmosphere of court rooms, when, one morning, by calculating my longitude, I found I was a thousand miles from home. Thanks to steam cars and steam-boats! But this rapidity of journeying, and loss of sleep, and being a thousand miles from home, after all, made me quite sick, and I was forced to engage a room for a week, and consider myself an invalid; athough, as good luck would have it, I had fallen, about this time, upon a pleasant village. My physician was a very intelligent man, and agreeable companion, and did all he could to amuse me. Hearing from him, one day, that he had a gentleman under his care, of somewhat eccentric character, I expressed a desire to take the air, and accompany him in his visit. 'We passed a little out of the village, and came to a neat cottage, the grounds around which had the air of unusual refinement. We entered, and, lying upon the sofa, I beheld the form of my old friend and class-mate, Wilson Conworth. He did not speak, but a faint tinge passed over his face, and then a tear slowly gathered and rolled down his wasted cheek. His heart seemed too full for words. Every effort to speak, choked his utterance. I sat by him some time, holding his hand, although I knew not what to say, or how to address a man, whom I had supposed dead for years, and now found only a day's journey from his grave. The physician advised that I should leave him for the present, as he feared the consequences of any excitement.

'After we had left the house, I learnt that he had been a resident in the place about four years; that he was very retired and studious in his habits, and constantly employing the surplus of a not large property in assisting the poor. No one knew from whence he came, but all respected the purity of his life. I did not feel authorized to tell what I knew, but merely answered to my companion's inquiries, that he was an early acquaintance of mine. Afterward, I called upon my own account, and staid with Conworth until he died, which was but a few days. During all my visits, he declined giving me any information respecting himself, but seemed anxious to learn the history of my own tolerable fortune.

'The day before his dissolution, he put the following pages into my hands, and said: This will explain all. Do not read it until I am dead.'

'In giving it to the world, I have been influenced by the wishes of a dying man. It does not pretend to literary merit. It would be strange, too, if the opinions expressed by a man who confesses himself the victim to a faulty education, should be just in all respects. Indeed, I am aware the work has many faults - many crude opinions; the strugglings of a mind, chained by evil habits, and darkened by error, to free itself of its

shackles, and arise to truth. It may suggest some notions that can be carried out to valuable results. No man thinks in vain; and ungenerous wrong-thinking is better than slavishness of mind. I am inclined to think, too, that Conworth intended these pages as a kind of apology to those who once knew him. The Editor.'

A LEAF FROM OUR NOTE-BOOK, wherein are recorded familiar thoughts, in a familiar way. It is proper to add, that whosoever will, may turn the leaf, and so escape the chances of an untried experiment.

ANIMAL BURLESQUE. - Did you never remark, reader, the exhibition of a species of burlesque, in the deportment of animals? Strong contrasts are often observable in the bearing of this 'portion of the community.' We could not resist a hearty laugh, recently, as we saw a pocket edition of a poodle, bedizzened with tinkling bells and red ribbon, following one of HARRINGTON's lordly St. Bernard mastiffs, and expressing its personal dislike of the canine giant, by a rapid series of fœtus barks, or barklets, as LAMB would have termed its small vociferations. With what indescribable contempt did the monster look down upon his little assailant, in the brief moment that he turned round his head, and then moved on, overshadowing the aspiring cur with his immense tail! Dignity was enthroned in his whole manner and aspect. A similar disparity is sometimes variously exhibited in a higher order of animals. The city reader will remember a menagerie incident, which occurred here some years since. A tiger, by some means or other, escaped from his cage, while the keeper was in the amphitheatre. He ran from side to side, 'seeking whom he might devour.' At length his fiery eye rested upon the keeper, who had taken up his position under the lee of a huge elephant, that had watched the motions of the enraged animal, from the beginning, with great gravity. The tiger sprang violently toward his master, but suddenly found himself encircled in the lithe proboscis of the elephant, and presently after, whirling in the air. Twice he returned to the charge, and twice he was sent half across the amphitheatre, the last time with a force that brought him to the ground, with exceeding emphasis, and in a state so disabled as to render his capture easy. The ponderous decorum with which the elephant conducted the affair, and the chagrin and discomfiture of his adversary, are said to have afforded a rich scene. It was a pitched battle, which the latter never forgot.

Apropos of elephants. A friend once described to us a laughable scene which he saw in Baltimore, wherein this 'half-reasoning parent of combs' (vide Dr. JOHNSON,) bore, as usual, a conspicuous and powerful part. Five or six men were 'being led' by the animal they supposed they were leading him- to the steamboat at the wharf, where he was to embark, with a menagerie, for Philadelphia. He clanked up, in chains, to the end of the pier, just as a sudden puff of steam escaped from the valve, preparatory to starting. The elephant looked indolently up at the white vapor, flapped his ears, and turned doggedly round, saying, as plainly as actions could speak, 'I don't go in that boat! For the next twenty minutes, he was seen, by the passengers in waiting, slowly moving up the long street, in sullen dignity, while the attendants, uttering diverse soothing expostulations, pulled strenuously back upon the ropes and chains which lightly encumbered the resistless animal's legs. When the boat left the wharf, the party were still faintly discerned in the distance, continuing their toilsome and vexatious journey.

A CELESTIAL REVERIE. - There comes, to the thoughtful and contemplative man, a peculiar sense of serene majesty, when twilight falls upon the earth in the spring-time. The heart is then a devout worshipper in the great cathedral of nature. Low, deeptoned harmonies seem to vibrate in the still and solemn air; and faint, mellow beams, fading every moment, steal from the stained windows of the west, as one by one

the evening lights 'go up upon their watch.' But when twilight deepens into night, the wide o'erhanging firmament-that 'majestical roof, fretted with golden fires' - in its bright and countless hosts of worlds, overwhelms the rapt gazer with awe, at the power and majesty of the Great Architect. 'Are those bright orbs,' he exclaims, 'inhabitable worlds, like this of ours? Lo! even while we gaze, one falls far down the deep blue vault, and vanishes away. Was A WORLD, in the inscrutable providence of the SUPREME, then blotted from being? Is our universe but as a star, to the dwellers in those suspended spheres, and will it be seen, ages hence, from yon far-gleaming orbs, suddenly to fall and fade, like a transient meteor in the sky?' HE alone knoweth, who spreadeth out the heavens like a curtain, and hangeth the earth upon nothing! Faint glimpses are indeed afforded to the searcher after the unseen - dim perceptions of Nature's sublime mysteries. We wonder and admire, when, at a moment for years foretold, one celestial system clips with its mighty shadow a fellow system, as far in space they sweep their awful cycles. We marvel when, commissioned by the All-powerful, a wan and misty orb, predicted for a century, 'streams its horrid hair' upon the midnight sky. But of even these phenomena, how limited is our knowledge! 'Our best philosophical system is none other than a dream-theorem; a net-quotient, confidently given out, where divisor and dividend are both unknown.'

'POOR MINO.'-'Good morning!' in a clear, sonorous voice, rang in our ears, the other day, as we stepped into the store of a bird-fancier, in Nassau-street. Seeing no one in the shop, we were pondering in our mind whence the courteous salutation could proceed, when a large, handsome bird, of glossy black, fixed his keen eye upon us, and cocking his head inquisitively, asked, 'What's your name?' Surprised beyond measure at the full and perfect pronunciation, and intonation of the voice, so unlike the mere parrot, we were actually on the point of answering the query, when the loquacious questioner, turning toward a door that opened into an adjoining apartment, called out, 'Uncle John! Uncle John!' An elderly Quaker gentleman, of taciturn manners, entered, when the bird broke out into one of the most hearty, infectious laughs it was ever our good fortune to hear, ending in a suppressed double chuckle, as if rounding off, sotto voce, a guffaw at a capital joke, which he had enjoyed with the utmost gusto. Oh, that joyous laugh! It was the very music of childhood. The next moment, in tones as pathetic and melting as those of Sterne's starling, he faltered out, 'Poor Mino!' But all sympathy with his captivity was at an end, when he presently commenced whistling a lively tune, apparently with great glee. Mino is a rare East Indian bird a wonder and a marvel. Only five hundred dollars are demanded for him; and considering that his 'conversational powers' are of the first order, (although his rûle may be rather limited,) the price is not unreasonable. Endowed with this bird's voice, how far removed from certain fashionable bipeds would be an active monkey? How many live on the trottoirs of Broadway, who could hail him as a familiar and a brother!

THE STEAM SHIPS. Since the advent of Noah's ark, that unique piece of naval architecture, there has probably not been more fervent curiosity excited by any water-craft, than has been awakened by the steam-ships that have recently come to, and gone from, us across the Atlantic. The whole town, 'populous, multifaced,' went on board of them. We confessed the general infection, and found no rest, until we stood where, 'extended long and large,' the 'GREAT WESTERN' lay at her moorings nay, until we had wandered over her from stem to stern, high and low; admiring her stupendous scale, the appointments which render her spacious cabins luxurious drawing-rooms, and the might and majesty of her machinery. Her propelling force is embodied POWER. The moral sublime must be strikingly exemplified, when this immense structure, in mid ocean,

'walks the floods below, While they roar on the shore, And the stormy tempests blow!'

a huge animal, that heeds not the Deep, when it uttereth its voice, but makes it 'boil