And Weekly Review ; Forming an Analysis and General Repository of Literature, Philosophy, Science, Arts, This Paper is published early every Saturday Morning, Price Sixpence; or 10d. if sent into the Country, Free of Postage, on the Day of Publication; No. 211. LONDON, SATURDAY, MAY 31, 1823. Review of New Books. fancy. Female writers have almost uniformly failed whenever they have atThe Forest Minstrel, and other Poems. tempted tragedy, nor, with a few excepBy WILLIAM and MARY HOWITT. tions, have they been much more fortu12mo. pp. 197. London, 1823. nate in their delineations of manners WILLIAM and MARY HOWITT are mem- and character; for the one demands an hers of the Society of Friends, and energy and the other an acquaintance Quaker poetry is of so rare occurrence, with the world, neither of which are that this circumstance alone is sufficient perfectly compatible with female delito create an interest in its behalf, what-cacy. Price 6d. that whatever may be the case, with respect to the other fine arts, poetry is one from which even the austerity of sectarian principles does not necessarily exclude their followers. What, in fact, are the sublimer truths of religion, but poetry, addressing itself to thesoul-poetry" far above the comprehension of the worldling-a poetry addressing itself to the heart? If the energy that prompts to heroic actions be great, that which teaches us to subdue the most powerful impulses of nature, and which leads to the most complete self-devotion and abstraction, is not less so. It is time, however, now to quit these general observations, and come at once to the more immediate subject of our notice. To give the olden harp a thrilling sound, Like those great spirits, who of late have sent Their wizard tones abroad, and all around This wond'rous world have wander'd; and have spent ever may be its real merits; for the sect Similar causes operate against the of friends have generally held them-success of Quakers in poetry: their haselves so completely aloof from all sem-bits are by no means peculiarly favourablance of the ornamental in art, and able to the development of literary tafrom whatever relates to imagination lent; and the path in which it is perand poetry, that there is some difficulty mitted them to range, is, moreover, in persuading one's-self, that a man in a especially limited. Yet poetry is not drab suit can become a votary of the always the frenzied Bacchante, nor the muses. It seems hardly less incongru- impassioned Pythoness; she has her ous than to behold a statue of Apollo, calmer mood, when she turns from great Prefixed to the principal poem is an Concealing his tresses beneath a broad and daring deeds, and from the hurri-Epistle Dedicatory,' in the ottava rima, brim, which, to our apprehension, would cane of the passions, from the Circean which has of late found so much favour operate upon the elegant Grecian deity, bowl of revelry and voluptuousness, to with many of our most popular poets. much in the same manner as an extin- contemplate the mild graces of nature, In these stanzas, the author or authors, guisher upon a candle. It should seem, to exhort to deeds of benevolence and if they are to be considered as writing 100, that this society has been deemed charity, and to muse on the high desti- in conjunction, inform us of their attach-, as blind to the beauties of nature as to nies of man. And this is a sphere in ment to the beauties of nature:the enjoyments of art; since it has been which genius may accomplish much. For never yet was mine the proud intent pleasantly but somewhat invidiously said Cowper is assuredly not the meanest of them, that they would have clothed nor least interesting of our bards; and our fields and groves in one uniform, a writer of the present day, almost sufficheerless livery of drab. ciently well known by the appellation of Jesting, however, apart, it must be the Quaker Poet, to render it unnecesconfessed, that the spirit of sectarianism sary to add his real name, has produced does not appear favourable to art, or some of the most elegant and feeling minently calculated to call the powers of strains, fraught with the genuine inspiimagination into play :-that is, accord-ration of poesy. These alone would be ing to the popular acceptation of the sufficient to prove, should any doubt of term, otherwise it must be admitted that the kind exist, that purity of thought it is a quality in which they are by no and language are by no means incommeans deficient. patible with poetical beauty or vigour That a religious class of such severe of fancy. There is also a particular simplicity of manners as the Quakers, character of intense devotion, belonging should never have encouraged the al- to such writers, that confers on them an luring elegancies of painting, which fre-elevation and simple sublimity, not alquently partake as much of the sensual ways attainable by those who are appais the intellectual, is not to be wondered rently less restrained. Much of the at neither have they been more distin- power and interest of Wordsworth, and guished for the cultivation of literature, we add also of Montgomery, arise from ven in its soberest garb. Such be- the spirituality-if we may so express ing the case, it can hardly be imagined ourselves, which distinguishes their that they should be successful in any poetry. of those departments of it, which demand warmth of passion and play of But we have, perhaps, already said enough, or more than enough, to prove, Bernard Barton. In court and camp, on bann'd and holy Their gleaning glances; and in hall and bower power. And then have brought us home strange sights and sounds From distant lands, of dark and awful deeds; And fair and dreadful spirits; and gay rounds Of mirth and music; and then mourning weeds; And tale of helpless love, that sweetly sounds The gentle heart, and its deep fondness feeds, Lapping it up in dreams of sad delight From its own weary thoughts, in visions wild Oh! never yet to me the power or will Of nature cast, I early wont to stroll Through wood and wild, o'er forest, rock, and hill, Save to discover every shape and voice And every day that boyish fancy grew; ( All sweet and peaceful, fed the young spi- Then rose each silent woodland to the view, "Oh days of glory! when the young soul drank Delicious wonderment through every sense! And every tone and tint of beauty sank Into a heart that asked not how, or whence Came the dear influence; from the dreary blank Of nothingness sprang forth to an existence, Thrilling and wondrous; to enjoy-enjoy The new and glorious blessing-was its sole employ.' which, all with this posy blent,' the The succeeding piece, that which these we may note Telle est la Vie,' The character of Walter also Telle est la Vie! "That flower, that fairest flower, that grew, 'Thither would be come; And slowly wand'ring, as for wand'ring's sake, Yet with ear, eye, heart, livingly awake, swept Through the dry rustling leaves, by wild winds moss boss And bilberry clumps, each soft swell that em- This is genuine poetry; and the youthful feelings of a pure and ardent mind are here delineated with vigour of thought and beauty of expression. There is an ease of versification and command of language, that evince the writer to be no mean proficient in the more mechanical province of this art. We cannot, however, but regret, that either indolence or precipitancy should have caused him to admit such a blemish as that which occurs in the last of the above-quoted stanzas, where the accent on the word 'existence' is thrown on the last syllable; a license hardly admissible, and one which mars the harmony of this otherwise fine passage. This piece abounds with so many beauties, with such fresh and vivid descriptions of natural objects, and of the feelings excited by them, that we hardly know how to forbear quoting, although we have but little space for farther exThe last line but one of this extract, tracts from it. We must, therefore, is disfigured by a blemish similar to that against our inclination, forbear, and will of which we before complained. Oconly present our readers with a charm-casionally, too, we have noted a bad and ing description of rustic infancy:vulgar rhyme, as for instance, offender' to window; at other times no pause 'To meet in green lanes happy infant bands, is allowed at the end of a line; or rather, the reader is for the sake of the rhyme, obliged to make a pause where the Cowslips, and wind-flowers, and green brook-sense will permit none, as for example, Full of health's luxury, sauntering aud sing ing A childish, wordless melody; with hands, lime bringing; Or weaving caps of rushes; or with wands On some low sweeping bough, and clinging all fall.' We hardly recollect ever to have met with a more delightful picture of infantine sportiveness, or expressed with greater naïveté. Eyeing above the radiant blue that laugh'd We are aware that the authority of no less a poet than Lord Byron, may be adduced in support of this practice, but it seems a licence hardly warrantable, at least one that ought very rarely indeed to be resorted to; since it either absoThe expression 'saun-lutely confounds two lines together, so tering and singing a childish word- as to destroy all metre, or causes a pause less melody,' is one of those touches equivalent in absurdity to the error of which possess an undefinable grace, and interposing a comma between the nodepict, with apparent carelessness, more minative and verb, when in immediate than the most elaborate description | junction with each other. could attain. The lover of rural beauty cannot fail to be gratified with the various, accurate, and interesting details, Of the minor pieces, forming the remainder of the volume, most are distinguished by great lyric beauty; among And cheer'd by opening day; And shone so fresh and gay ;. The germ of future sorrow; That nipp'd it ere the morrow. I've watch'd from yonder mountain's height The waxing and the waning light, The world far, far below; The tempest and the bow: And storm, a warfare waging. Telle est la Vie! We know not, however, why the refrain of these beautiful stanzas might not with greater propriety have been English. E'en such is Life!' would have sounded equally musical, and have been fully as expressive. There are many other poems which deserve to be particularized, had we room here to point out their merits. The Elfin Woman,' is a pleasing ballad specimen, which shows that the author is capable of treating similar subjects with success. The piece entitled 'Charity,' possesses a certain quaintness of thought, rendered more striking by the apparently incongruous metre which is adopted, but the effect of the whole is by no means unpleasing. The Song of the Bethlehemite,' is one of those productions which cannot fail to delight the reader, who has any relish for genuine poetry. It possesses much of the spirit and happiness of expression which characterize the best of Moore's productions, and much of that charm which belongs to the fine hymns of Milman, in his lyrical dramas. Before closing our remarks on these interesting poenis, we cannot forbear calling the reader's attention to one which differs from all the rest in the sportiveness of its subject this is the Legend of Dale Abbey," founded on an ancient tradition, which is related at length in a note, as ex- fect upon the tides of the time, than the gary. Yet when they returned to their wild laden as with the household wealth of a tracted from Pilkington's Derbyshire.' death of a sparrow,' Ringan's marriage homes among the distant hills, they were Although we did not expect to meet was consummated.-Ringan, who, as with so much sprightliness and vivacity has already been stated, is his own hisin a Quaker muse, we are by no means torian, narrates the events which ocscandalized at this pleasantry, nor do curred in Scotland after the death of we at all think worse of the author, for Charles I. and the bad faith of his sucThe severe enhaving on this occasion relaxed a little cessor, in breaking the covenant he had from the primness of his 'cloth.' In sworn to maintain. his preface he has tendered some apo- forcement of the acts of Charles, by logy in behalf of a certain latitude of Archbishop Sharp, on whom the author phrase and sentiment, which he anti- is very severe, drove the Rev. Mr. Licipated might be considered as not ex-vington, Ringan's minister, from his actly according with the rigid principles of his sect; deeming that in this he militates rather against popular opinion than against moral propriety;' still, in the way of general remark, we must say, that we should not be greatly pleased with many attempts at humour in authors of this stamp, not because we object to the thing itself, but because we consider it as in some degree incompatible with that purity and simplicity which has almost uniformly prevailed in individuals of the author's religious persuasion. Satire, even in its mildest form, has always a leaven of maliciousness lurking in it, and is far derogatory to the mild benevolence which is so conspicuous, and so amiable a feature in their character. It is a weapon too carnal to be wielded by their hands. Pleasantry, too, is apt to betray the most guarded into a certain latitude of expression; or, if betraying much caution, to degenerate into insipidity. Besides, we very much doubt whether a writer belonging to this sect would excel in any species of composition, demanding much of this quality; they are, in fact, not fitted for trifling agreeably, and we should as soon expect to find a member of this so defenceless by the weight of their spoil. At the bridge of Glasgow, the students of the realm, in so much that they were rendered town, looking on them with true Scottish college and the other brave youths of that hearts, and wrathful to see that the barbarians had been such robbers of their fellowsubjects, stopped above two thousand of them, and took from them their congregature, wherewith they had burdened themtions of goods and wares, wearing-apparel, pots, pans, and gridirons, and other furniwas stripped to a wastage, and every thing charge, and the last sermon he preach-selves, like bearers at a flitting. My house was taken away; what was too heavy to be ed and the circumstances attending, afford a most delightful picture of Christian fortitude and Christian affection. easily transported, was, after being carried The great provocations the Covenanters some distance, left on the road. The very received, at length forced them to re- shoes were taken off my wife's feet, and a red-haired reprobate as he took hold of Among the Sarah Lochrig's hand, and robbed her of her sistance, and they fought, but were de- "ye'll no be a refuse to gi'e me that," said wedding-ring. I was present and saw the feated at Rullion Green. occurrences of the time, Ringan was taken, and committed to the prison at deed; I felt my hands clench; but in my Irvine; but, a few days before the day spirit I discovered that it was then the hour fixed for his trial, he escaped à la La- of outrage, and that the Avenger's time was valette, by dressing himself in his wife's not yet come.' clothes, and leaving her in prison. When Ringan had escaped, he began to regret, that he had saved himself by sacrificing his wife, but James Gottera, who had befriended him, remonstrated against such complaint, assuring him, that she would not be injured. A calm now succeeded to the storm of persecution, but it did not long continue. The Covenanters, who had given security to keep the peace, were soon again diswas turbed by the Duke of Lauderdale, who, being appointed to the council, endowed with the power to persecute and domineer:' 'The English forces came mustering against us on the borders, the Irish garrisons were drawn to the coast to invade us, and the lawless Ringan was attending the funeral of his niece, and 'But just as the coffin was laid in the grave, and before a spadeful of earth was thrown, a boy came running, crying,, "Sharp's kill't!-the apostate's dead! pause; and while we were thus standing, a which made every one turn round and horseman came riding by, who confirmed the tidings, that a band of men, whom his persecutions had made desperate, had exe cuted justice on the apostate as he was traWhile the stranger was tellMagus-moor. velling in his carriage with his daughter on unburied; and, dreadful to tell! when he had made an end of his tale, there was a ing the news, the corpse lay in the grave shout of joy and exultation set up by all present, except by Michael and my brother. They stood unmoved, and I thought ciety distinguished by the elegant, po- their need and greed, and a royal promise-do I them any wrong?-that they looked as lished address of a man of the world, Ringan Gilhaize; or, the Covenanters. of indemnity for whatsoever outrages they Claverhouse was now appointed to command the army, and the Covenanters gave him battle on the moor of Drumclog 'The dragoons were the first to halt, and Claverhouse, having ordered his prisoners to be drawn aside, was the first who gave the word to fire. This was without any parley or request to know whether we came with hostile intent or no. Clelland, on seeing the dragoons make ready, cried to us all to den ourselves among the heather; by which we started up, and every one, with the best forethought the shot flew harmless. Then were loading their carabines. Several men wounded. many aim he could, fired at the dragoons as they and horses were killed, and (Concluded from p. 307.) RINGAN GILHAIZE, the hero of the new novel, of which we gave some account, had fixed the day for his marriage with Sarah Lochrig, before the news of King Charles's execution had reached Scotland, but the ceremony was deferred on account of that event, fearing that it would be followed by a total breaking men to charge upon us; but the ground was up of the union and frame of society. But when it was found that the dread-be here-justice. "The Highland host came on us in want, rough, the heather deep, and the moss ful beheading of an anointed monarch, as a malefactor, had scarcely more ef- and, but for their license to destroy, in beg-broken where peats had been dug, and the Claverhouse seeing this, commanded his horses floundered, and several threw their riders, and fell themselves. 'We had now loaded again, and the second fire was more deadly than the first. Our horsemen also, seeing how the dragoons were scattered, fell in the confusion as it were man for man upon them. Claverhouse raged and commanded, but no one now could or would obey. In that extremity his horse was killed, and, being thrown down, I ran forward to seize him, if I could, prisoner; but he still held his sword in his hand, and rising as I came up, used it maufully, and with one stroke almost hewed my right arm from my shoulder. As he fled, I attempted for a moment to follow, but staggered and fell. Ile looked back as he escaped, and I cried-"Blood for blood;" and it has been so, as I shall hereafter in the sequel relate.' went round the gable of the house into the Thus was my avenging vow fulfilled,- The garden in which I then stood was surrounded by a low wall. A small goosepool lay on the outside, between which and the garden I perceived that Claverhouse would pass. Such is but a feeble outline of Ringan Gilhaize, whose feelings are the feelings of Scotsmen, and whose history is the history of their country. No one acI prepared my flint and examined my firelock, and I walked towards the top of quainted with that history, or inheriting the garden with a firm step. The ground the spirit of those brave defenders of the was buoyant to my tread, and the vigour of rights of conscience, who shed their youth was renewed in my aged limbs: I blood in resisting religious tyranny, can thought that those for whom I had so mourn-read Ringan Gilhaize without being as ed walked before me-that they smiled and sured of its fidelity, and participating in beckoned me to come on, and that a glorious the same feeling which is here so ably light shone around me. delineated. The author, through the whole of the work, keeps the mind rivetted to the narrative, and fluctuating as the scenes of weal or woe present themselves: he is evidently a great master of the passions, and if he does not sway them entirely at his will, makes them subservient to a good purpose. pathetic incidents, Ringan Gilhaize conAbounding in vivid descriptions and veys an instructive moral, and has a Claverhouse was coming forward—seve ral officers were near him, but his men were The brother of Ringan was taken prisoner, and sent on board a vessel as a bondman, to the plantations in America; during the voyage he was lost, with two hundred other sufferers. Ringan was again taken prisoner, and again escaped. Ringan's son, Joseph, died in the battle of Bothwell Brig; and Claverhouse ordered the young stripling's head to be cut off, and sent in ignominy, to Edinburgh, where it was placed on the netherbow. This prompt-rested my carabine upon the wall, and fired I loaded again, again I knelt, and again ed Ringan to revenge, or, rather, to be a second time, and was again disappointed. the executioner of the just judgments of him whose ministers are flaming fires and pestilence and war and storms and perjured kings,' on Claverhouse. Ringan was afterwards engaged in Argyle's unfortunate expedition, in behalf of the Cameronians. Claverhouse, who had now got the title of Lord Dundee, still domineered in Scotland. Ringan, ever active when the good cause was to be served, joined in every attempt made by the Covenanters to rescue themselves from their thraldom, and served under General Mackay, against Claverhouse, at the battle of Rinrorie, with which the work closes. I ran to and fro on the brow of the hili 'But scarcely had the dreadful words escaped my profane lips, when I heard, as it were, thunders in the heavens, and the voice of an oracle crying in the ears of my soul, "The victory of this day is given into thy hands!" and strange wonder and awe fell upon me, and a mighty spirit entered into mine, and I felt as if I was in that moment clothed with the armour of divine might. I took up my carabine, which in these transports had fallen from my hand, and I Then I remembered that I had not implored the help of Heaven, and I prepared for the third time, and when all was ready, and Claverhouse was coming forward, I took off my bonnet, and kneeling with the gun in my hand, cried, "Lord, remember David and all his afflictions;" and having so prayed, I took aim as I knelt, and Claver house raising his arm in command, I fired. In the same moment I looked up, and there was a vision in the air as if all the angels of brightness, and the martyrs in their vestments of glory, were assembled on the walls and battlements of heaven to witness the event, and I started up and cried, "I have delivered my native land!" But in the same instant I remembered to whom the glory was due, and falling again on my knees, I raised my hands and bowed my When the smoke rolled away I beheld Claverhouse in the arms of his officers, sinking from his horse, and the blood flowing from a wound between the breast-plate and the arm-pit. The same night he was summoned to the audit of his crimes. It was not observed by the officers from what quarter the summoning bolt of justice came, but thinking it was from the house, every window was instantly attacked, while I deliberately retired from the spot, and, till the protection of the darkness enabled me to make my escape across the Gary, and over the hills in the direction I saw Mackay and the remnants of the flock taking, I concealed myself among the bushes and rocks that overhung the violent stream of the Girnag. better claim to the character of a religious novel, in this respect, than many that are called so. The author has not turned men and events into ridicule, whose motives were as pure as their cause was just, but he has shown through what scenes of difficulty and danger the Covenanters, sustained by religion, were enabled to pass. Though the narrative is connected, yet there are a few delightful episodes scattered through these volumes, particularly the pathetic tale of Marion Ruet, which is one of those natural and heart-searching touches, in which the author surpasses every writer of his day. Blossoms of Anecdote and Wit, or Mirth the S AND WEEKLY REVIEW. tion of those divines, who, in following favourite of James II., who followed the cal version of a letter given a few that divine command, Love your ene- fortunes of that monarch to France, and months ago in Longuemanne's Cunmies,' have placed the flesh and the afterwards fell at the battle of Turin in nynge Advertyzer,' and then stated to devil in the number; and it may be fur- the service of Louis XIV. A few years be original, though the editor afterther observed, that although the greater after the Revolution, Col. Mottley re- wards- acknowledged that it was an old part of the books of Livy are irrecover-turned to England (during which short offender. At p. 99, there is an anecably lost, the lascivious effusions of the visit, by the bye, he became father of dote attributed to Charles XII., which, amatory,poets have been preserved en- the author of Joe Miller's Jests) on a belongs to that gallant Cambrian, Datire. It is true that Martial wrote seve-mission from the abdicated king. The vid Gam. But why carp at a few jests, ral smart epigrams, and that Hierocles, government, who had got intelligence which afford room for an observation, The following appear to us: the Platonist, collected a few smart say-of it, made strict search after him; and when there are so many entitled to ings, and several pedantic bulls or blun- learning that he frequently supped with praise? ders, but the latter fell short of the per- Mr. Tredenham, a member of Parlia- a few of the most original,—or rather, 'Smart Reply to Buonaparte.-Buonafection which our neighbours of the sis- ment, at the Blue Posts' Tavern, Hay- perhaps, the least known:ter-island have since attained; though, market, they sent to seize that gentleto be sure, the Hibernians have had the man and his papers. Mr. Tredenham parte in his last interview with General stock of Hierocles to begin with, and a was brought before the Earl of Notting-Knobelsdorff, displayed that angry and incasions, had betrayed the weakness of his understanding. While the veteran minister. couple of thousand years to improve it in. ham, then secretary of statc, who asked temperate folly, which, on some former ocOne reason why wit may have been what the papers contained. Nothing, was repeating some of the requisitions of fostered in England, was, perhaps, the my lord,' said Mr. T., but several custom of keeping fools or jesters, which scenes of a play which I have been his court, Buonaparte contemptuously inwas not confined to the court,-the lord scribbling for my own amusement.' terrupted him, and after a violent apostro "True," mayor had his fool,-a fashion, it is pre- Lord Nottingham then looked the pa- phe against the Prussian government, addmy country is a sumed, common to the nobility, and pers over, and returning them to the ed, "Prussia is merely a watch, and whoreplied Knoblesdorff, his business was to amuse by his jests, author said, I am quite satisfied, for, ever winds it up will set it going. though he sometimes also admonished upon my word, I can find no plot in watch, but please to observe it is a repeatby them. In course of time, the good them." things were collected into books, and one of the earliest collections publish ed was ascribed to Killigrew, though it was not published until many years after his death. A more celebrated collection was published, about half a century afterwards, well known by the name of Joe Miller's Jest-Book,'though Joe, honest soul, had no more to do with it than we had. 6. er, and if wound up, it will strike.” ' The axe.-A lady who had not received But we are detaining our readers from the Blossoms of Anecdote and Wit;' and we are sure, that if every joke was to be prefaced by so long an exordium, joking would soon be out of fashion, which God forbid. The Blossoms of Anecdote and Wit' appear to us to have been very carefully culled from the choicest English shrubs. A few exotics have been introduced, but they are so Joe Miller was a comedian, who lies far English as to be pure-no small reinterred in the burial-ground in Portu- commendation to a work of humour; gal Street, belonging to St. Clement for, we regret to say, that there are Danes; and though his friend, Stephen very few collections, either of anecdotes Duck, the thresher poet, has, in his epi- or jests, that are fit to be introduced to taph, praised his wit, yet he does not ap-young people or to females. In the depear to have been celebrated for possess-licacy and chasteness of selection, the ing that quality in his lifetime. The di- editor of this little work has followed umals of the time record his death the good example of the Brothers Percy, without the slightest compliment; and who have done much to rescue collections of anecdote from the opprobrium Much it even now seems doubtful whether he was a fellow of humour or not. We under which they so long lay. were shut, in consequence of the duke's orhave somewhere read that he was not; good taste has also been displayed, in that, in fact, he was so dull in com- the present volume, in giving only the 'When. Sir Joseph Yorke was ambassapany that it was a joke to attribute most piquant bon mots and the most in-ders. The peers would all be melting in one to him. But then it will be said, teresting anecdotes. The editor has sweat, that the duke might not catch cold. How came Joe Miller's Jest Book? Of also the liberality to acknowledge the dor at the Hague, a curious instance hapthis we acquit poor Joe, who certainly sources of some of his articles, though pened of this idle apprehension. The late not always correctly. Thus, at page king going to Hanover, the duke must go has nothing to answer for on this account, since the real author of Joe Mil-283, he gives The Twister,' from the with him, that his foes might not injure him ler's jests was John Mottley, who wrote Literary Register,' where, perhaps, it in his absence. The day they were to pass five dramatic pieces, and had some appeared as original, although it had the sea, a messenger came at five o'clock in he came from the Duke of Newcastle. share in that many-fathered and still long before run the gauntlet of periodi- the morning, and drew Sir Joseph's bed "For God's sake," exclaimed Sir Joseph, popular farce, The Devil to Pay. He cals, and is found in the Polyanthea, curtains. Sir Joseph starting, the man said "What is it? Is the king ill?" was also the author of the Life of the published in 1804, where it is called Czar Peter the Great and the History the English Verb.' At page 188, we of Catherine of Russia. Mr. Mottley have Mr. O'Looney's Account of the After several fruitless questions, the meswas the son of Colonel Mottley, a great Rebellion in Ireland,' which is a poeti-senger at length said, "The duke sent me, How to air a bed.-The chief apprehension of the Duke of Newcastle (the minister) was that of catching cold. Often, in the heat of summer, the debates in the House of Lords would stand still, till some window "No." |