tion, and many prayers, retarded, but could not prevent its fall; for the wind of the desert came at last, and laid its green head low. But why indulge this strain? Why look only to the dark side? "Why," busy memory, "dost thou wake the sleeping tear?" for never more shall tears flow from the eyes of the blessed; never more shall sorrow disturb their peaceful breast. This young man has not lived in vain for himself, for he has lived for a blessed immortality. Nor has he lived in vain for others, for he has shown to all how compatible the liveliest genius, and the most extensive acquirements, are with purity of religious faith and manners; and the example of his diligence and progress will, we trust, stimulate many other young men at once to excel in liberal studies, and to cultivate every Christian grace. This latter consideration is of especial importance. While, therefore, his Remains will be more or less edifying and entertaining to persons of every description, we earnestly recommend their careful perusal to all who wish to cherish in themselves habits of ardent attachment and steady application to study.

With regard to the persons to whom the public are indebted for this work, no names are given, and therefore we are not entitled to promulgate them. There are some names, however, which cannot be hid. We certainly do not mean to flatter when we apply this to the gentleman who has taken the principal labour of preparing this volume for the press. It is obvious that very few were fit for such a task. The very transcribing, and

(as must have been sometimes ne cessary,) correcting of such papers, required no ordinary degree of knowledge of languages. Such knowledge we know he possessed, and we are happy that he has had this opportunity of putting it to a good use. Having thus begun, he must go on. It would be unpardonable were he to hide such a ta lent in a napkin.

One word with regard chiefly to the resolution to which, in this case, the father of this lamented young man has come, and we have done. He has judged right. It would have been much to be regretted had any mistaken ideas prevented him from consenting to the publication of what is so interesting, and so likely to be useful. Deeply have we sympathised with him in his being thus bereaved of the last of his family. We must not, however, presume to draw aside the veil that conceals sorrows which are better imagined than expressed. We shall only say that, if, instead of being crushed into the dust by such a stroke, he has been enabled not only to bear it without repining, but to "thank God that he had such a son," and to proceed with increasing spirituality, and zeal, and faithfulness, in the services of the sanctuary, then is there here a practical demonstration, that the believer's strength shall be as his day, and then should every Christian who witnesses such an example feel himself encouraged to hope, that, come what may, he shall have a light that will cheer him in the darkest night of sorrow, and turn even the shadow of death into the morning.

No Enthusiasm; a Tale of the Present Times. 2 vols. 8vo. London: Westley. 1822.

effects of a squib at the expense of his own clothes and arm, both of which suffered in the conflict. This, no doubt, made a deep impression on the mind of her who had been unintentionally the occasion of the misfortune; and she is represented as from this period taking a deeper interest in the history of Falkland, who, however, leaves Tewkesbury in the course of a few days after, not, as he hopes, without having made a favourable impression.

Now, in all this, we may say, there is, to affirm nothing worse of it, something extremely silly. Taking our hero as the common average of young persons of his age and station, and without the most distant reference to moral or reli gious principle, we would feel inclined to characterize him as a very susceptible young man, and as in imminent danger of precipitating himself into difficulties by rashly acting on the impressions of the moment. But when we recollect that our hero is at this time sup posed to be a religious character, and is introduced to us under that idea, we may be allowed to feel something of surprise mingled with displeasure, at the representation of such a specimen of solid principle, of chastened feeling, and of steady habits. We must say that such a picture is not calculated to recommend religion; and we shall be very much and very agreeably disappointed indeed if the greater part of the readers of this work do not think that they have got a sufficient specimen of it when they have proceeded the length of the "fire works" and the "squibs" at Tewkesbury. With these said "fire works" and "squibs," there are strangely interlarded the proceedings of a Bible Society meeting, at which our "hero of the squib" makes a conspicuous figure, and withal obtains a new set of acquaintances in the amiable family of the worthy vicar

5 F

THE author of this work has been rather unfortunate in the opening of the piece. He has introduced his hero to his readers in circumstances not greatly calculated either to interest, or to excite respect. GEORGE FALKLAND, the hero of the story, is presented to us in the character of a young man of sound religious principles, and of practical Christian habits. He chances to arrive at the town of Tewkesbury, in Gloucestershire, where, at the inn in which he lodges, he falls in with the curate and the attorney of the place, whose characters are pourtrayed in colours not the most flattering. In the course of conversation with these persons, to whom he was an entire stranger, he hears some indistinct particulars of a young lady in the neighbourhood who was described by them as a methodist, but withal allowed to be very pious and very charitable to the poor. The information received, scanty as it might have been, seems to have made a deep impression on his mind, and he forthwith grasps at the conclusion, that this lady is marked out as a meet companion for him. He seeks every opportunity of seeing her, and even goes the length of lying in wait for her within the precincts of the garden of the house in which she lived, where the unexpected appearance of a stranger between nine and ten o'clock in the evening might have disturbed the faculties, and even endangered the life of the interesting favourite. At length he gets introduced to the "lady in black," at a public exhibition of fire works in the place, where our knight errant was so valiant as to defend the young lady from the

VOL. XXI. NO. XI.

of St. Mary's. All this exhibition appears to us absurd and nonsensical; and we can see no other tendency in it than to expose religion to contempt, and to injure the cause which the author has avowedly in his aim.

We are at a loss to understand the reason of the Tewkesbury adventure, as its introduction in this place does not seem to influence, or indeed to have any immediate connection with the sequel of the story. Indeed after leaving our hero on the road to Shrewsbury, whither he was going on business of importance, we are led several years back to the history of Falkland's parents, and the earlier period of his own life. His father was a man of great landed property, but, like many of the same class, gave himself up to the implicit guidance of a rascally steward, who contrived to swindle him out of the greater part of his wealth; the consequence of which is, that, at the death of the old gentleman, his widow and daughters are left with a simple jointure of £400 a-year; and our hero, in place of finding himself, as he expected, in affluent circumstances, is absolutely pennyless. In this state of things, he is advised to have the conduct of the steward rigidly scrutinized, and all his money transactions with old Falkland overhauled; and with this view he applies to a friend of his own in London, a thorough-paced limb of the law, who most readily undertakes the business; and after a keen litigation in the different courts, succeeds in restoring to the family a very large proportion of their property. In the meantime, George is advised to apply himself to the study of the law as a suitable profession for life; and under the able instructions of Solicitor Sturdy and Counsellor Ratcliffe, is making commendable progress, when the successful issue of his suit with Monckton the stew

ard renders its prosecution as a business for life unnecessary, and he resolves on following the usual occupations of a country gentleman at large. It does not appear that his parents had paid much attention to his early education, farther than by allowing him the ordinary advantages of general instruction, and he came to London with principles unformed, and habits unsteady. The hearing of a popular preacher we presume from the description that this was Daniel Wil. son of St. John's-appears to have been the first occasion of his mind being somewhat awakened to the importance of divine things. For a considerable time he lingered in a state of uncertainty between conscience and inclination; and whatever his impressions may have been, they are not sufficient to deter him from free indulgence in the company and fellowship of the world. Introduced to the gay family of Ratcliffe, he seems to be in his element, and soon manifests a strong attachment to one of the daughters. The affection is mutual, and it is encouraged by the friends of the lady. Meanwhile, the family retire for a few months to the country, and Falkland is left to his own reflections. He again goes in company with a singular character of the name of Clementson, who had been introduced to him by his friend Sturdy, to hear the same preacher whom he had heard on his first coming to London. The impression now made was deep, and powerful, and lasting. The consequence was, a decided resolution to give up his worldly acquaintances, and to associate with those whom the world ridicules under the cant names of Saint, Methodist, or Enthusiast. He thus exposes himself to the displeasure of his former friends; and the attachment which he felt for Jane Ratcliffe is sacrificed for his attachment to con

science and to principle. He relinquishes all connexion with the family, and turns his thoughts to objects more congenial to his mind. It is just at this time that he comes to Tewkesbury, and has the strange adventures with the "lady in black" formerly noticed. He was then on his way to attend the meeting of the court at Shrewsbury, where his last issue with the steward was to be tried, and on the result of which depended a considerable share of his worldly comfort and respectability. He did prevail in the suit, and regained a very large proportion of his father's wealth. In consequence, he takes up his residence along with his mother and sisters, in the more fashionable part of London, and lives in a style becoming his rank, while he studiously avoids the gaieties and follies of the metropolis. This does not please the worldly-minded mother, who is surprised and vexed to find that not only her only son, but her youngest daughter Julia also, had become converts to all the horrors of Methodism. Our hero stands firm to his principles, is consistent in his whole behaviour towards her, repels with ability and firmness all the assaults made on him either by argument or by ridicule, and by consistent and uniform demeanour, as well as by the mildness and amiableness of his manners, gradually gains on the good will, even of his mother. It does not appear, however, that any change essentially took place on her mind. The eldest daughter, Fanny, who retains the same opinions with herself, is married to the son of a medical practitioner of eminence in the city; but, to our hero's great grief, sadly tainted with Unitarian principles. Our hero, himself, after overcoming several difficulties, partly real and partly imaginary, at length

sets out for Tewkesbury; and the book concludes rather abruptly with the "note of preparation" for his nuptials with Miss Eltram, the young lady, his interview with whom is the opening scene of the work.

In prosecuting and filling up the above detail, a considerable variety of character is exhibited on the stage, and several useful sketches of human life and manners are drawn. As a specimen of the author's style and sentiments, we may quote the following lively remarks on the terms of reproach usually affixed to religious characters.

"I have sometimes thought that Me. culiar state of the atmosphere in certain thodism is a disorder propagated by a pequarters of the metropolis, and confined to particular streets, like the Mallaria of Italy; and I have been confirmed in this opinion, by observing one very remarkable into Bartlett's Buildings, and subscribe test of the malady. A man may go whatever sum he pleases for the distribution of the Bible, without incurring the imputation of Methodism. But let him only go down Holborn, across Fleet Market, just enter Bridge Street, and turn down

a certain street on the left hand, and the very same act of benevolence will characterize him at once a Methodist and a Sectary. Now, this singular phenomenon appears to without difficulty be traced to its source; furnish data, from which the disorder might and I really think it a duty of some of our theological chemists to analyze the air of these two situations, with a view to correct the pestilential elements contained in the ble effects. one which are productive of such deplora

this

"Another peculiarity of this extraordinary disorder is, that it varies with the different perceptions by which it is contemplated. It is, like the North, here or there, ation in which its observer may happen to way or that way, according to the situstand. Thus, a man with only half a grain of the sense of religious obligation, who may seem to one who is himself within the pale of orthodoxy, to be but few removes from the seat of the scorner," will be set

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down as a Methodist by the openly careless and profane. The man of orthodoxy is