4 
= 
: 
1828.] 
and snap and spar, but all with the tongue 
—till once, when all three were together, 
stung by the young Protestant’s reproaches, 
the Italian plucked a dagger from his breast 
—the very dagger with which he had stab- 
bed his former rival, and which he wore 
next his heart in token of repentance—and 
rushing towards him, plunged it deep into 
the bosom of the lady, who had thrown her- 
self between them. 
“ Wesley and his Disciple’’ is well told, 
and the best of the volumes. The disciple 
was a Cornish miner, of a fervid tempera- 
ment and enthusiastic spirit. Under Wes- 
ley’s guidance, he becomes a_ powerful 
preacher, and itinerates the country, till, 
meeting with a wealthy widow, he marries ; 
and in the enjoyment of his wealth, not- 
withstanding the remindings and reproofs 
of Wesley, he relaxes in his profession and 
his preaching. The wife dies. Though 
neyer attached to her while living, he dwells 
fondly on her memory; and, to dissipate his 
sorrows, and find employment, he goes, not 
apreaching again, but, of all places in the 
world, to the West Indies; and after wan- 
dering two or three years over the blue 
mountains of Jamaica, and roaming among 
the huts of the negroes, he takes a passage 
in a merchantman for Ireland. There he 
meets with a lady, whose attractions fairly 
fascinate him; she was a Catholic —the 
fact startles him—but obstacles vanish be- 
fore his ardour, and his passion must be 
indulged. She was young and gay, and 
married obviously for an establishment ; she 
was extravagant, and he gives way to her 
wishes, to the serious dilapidation of his 
property; she finally elopes with an ad- 
mirer, and the husband’s ruin quickly fol- 
lows. Duped in his fondest affections, and 
broken in fortune, he grew daily more care- 
less—was drawn into dissipation—gambled 
—drank, till he was left without a shilling, 
and then his thoughts turned to Wesley 
and his native village. Before he reached 
it, he sank on the ground—fatigued, ex- 
hausted, care-worn—when Wesley passed in 
jhis carriage. ‘ My father, my father,” 
exclaimed the unhappy man, “the chariot 
of Israel and the horsemen thereof.”” Wes- 
ley recognised him, sprang from the car- 
Tiage, threw his arms round him ut. 
red no reproaches—and, soothing, nim, 
pe to take care of him. But too 
isappointment had broken His heart, 
and his death soon followed. 
“St. Martin’s Isle’’—one of the Scilly 
Islands. Here a colonel and his daughter 
settle and farm, why or wherefore appears 
hot. The only acquaintance they form is the 
fresh caught from the Welsh hills, 
0 knows of course little of the living 
world, but capable, nevertheless, of preach- 
about vices and virtues, as he finds them 
in books. He, of course, loves the young 
lady, but she returns not the favour; he 
rescues her also from drowning, but she is 
—M.M. New Serics.—Vou.VI. No. 31, 
Domestic and Foreign. 
81 
still only grateful. By and by comes a gay 
and accomplished person, who was a mer- 
chant, it seems, and had brought his ship 
into the harbour for repairs; he forms an 
acquaintance with the lady—mutual attach- 
ment follows, and marriage is to take place 
on his return from the voyage. The ship’s 
repairs are at length finished; and he sets 
sail: but scarcely out of the harbour, and 
he is overtaken by a French privateer, 
fights bravely, and the last shot of the ene- 
my sweeps away both his thighs. He is 
brought back to the Isle; the lady’s affec- 
tion is proof—she nurses—cures—we do 
not mean she replaces the lost limbs—mar- 
ries ; and the curate—he, too, triumphs, for, 
tortured by jealousy, he struggles with the 
fiend—combats, and conquers. 
“ The Power of Affection” shews a sailor, 
who, being slighted by the girl he dearly 
loves, resolves to throw himself from a pre- 
cipice—makes a bad leap, falls on the rough 
points of a rock, and breaks almost every 
limb—but survives. At first the fond and 
repentant girl testifies the warmest attach- 
ment, but the despairing hero mends slowly 
—and is a cripple for ever s—she finds another 
and a sounder lover, and he dies to prove 
the strength and pertinacity of affection— 
or the severity of his fall. 
Notions of the Americans, picked up by 
@ Travelling Bachelor. 2 vols. 8vo. ; 1828, 
—We have read these yolumes with the most 
unmingled satisfaction, and earnestly recom- 
mend them to all who have been gathéting 
their “ Notions of ae Americans,”’ without 
opportunities of cérrecting them by more 
competent authorities, from the tours and tra- 
vels that have for the last ten or dozen years 
been floating in our literary atmosphere. 
Generally, the\authors of these publications 
have themselves been uneducated and un- 
licked persons, and mixing, as they must 
have done, with men of their own class and 
habits—their introductions could of course 
be to no others—and filled with strange 
fancies of American equality, they have 
given of the Americans an impression of 
pervading, and intolerable and irreclaim- 
able coarseness and vulgarity. The dis- 
tinctions of politicat and social relations 
were beyond ther detection. The same 
political rights seem to them to establish the 
same social intercourse—as if in such a com= 
bination of circumstances, the educated and 
uneducated, the refined and unrefined, the 
rich and the poor, must, necessarily, mingle 
pell-mell in blissful confusion. The very 
able and effective volumes before us will 
leave a far different impression upon the 
reader, accompanied with a conviction of 
the writer’s superior information, and supe- 
rior title to confidence, and confirmed, too, 
in the long run, by the eternal principles of 
human feelings, and human motives. The 
writer, with a want of sound discretion, 
wi was little to be expected from him— 
1 
