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The peer


Had. (haughtily.) Ha? perhaps thou doubt'st my power?
Whom dost thou think me?

Tam. Able to achieve
What human strength and genius-

Had. (with scorn.) Human strength!

Tam. What horrid thought of pride curls thy pale lip,
And ruffles all thy form ?

-0, look not thus-
Thy eyes are terrible-Protect me, Heaven !
How, huw have I offended ?

Had. Still, thou deem'st me
Hadad--the man-the worm-- --the 'heritor
Of a poor vanquished tributary king!
Then know me-

Tam. (terrified.) Heavens! O, heavens !

Had. This form was Hadad's-
But I-the Spirit--I-the Power who speak
Through these clay lips--am from the Heaven of Heavens,

of Angels.”—pp. 191. 198. He then informs her that, while yet an invisible spirit, he had seen her, and had become enamoured of her early beauty, long before her acquaintance with him whose form he now

He relates his sufferings from the miseries of jealousy when “that curst Syrian, fresher than Adonis,” became her companion and lover, and tells her that one day finding Hadad newĪy slain by robbers in a solitary spot, he dared the dreadful consequences denounced against such an act, and entered into and animated his body. To convince her of the truth of his narrative, he shows her the wounds yet fresh on his breast.

Had. Immedicable wounds that thrill and throb
Hourly, as with the mortal steel, and gush
Fresh blood, when stronger passions shake my frane ;

No art can heal them and no balm assuage.”—p. 196. He then scoops a handful of water from the fountain beside him, and offers to sprinkle it upon her, and make her bloom and live for ages. She recoils from his approach, abjures his accursed love, and makes her appeal to heaven.

Had. No more--we'll argue after--Thou, at least,

Shalt never bear the Incarnate Foe we fear!"--p. 199. He then drags her shrieking into the cavern. A party of Cherethites, the followers of David, appear, and the catastrophe is thus described by one of them, who had ventured into the cavern, and now rushes out pale and trembling. His companions inquire of him the cause of his affright, and what he had seen:

Cherethite. One like the Cherubim, Dreadfully glistering, wing'd, and dazzling bright

As lightning, whose fierce-bickering eyeballs shot
Sparkles like arrows, filling all the cave
With red effulgence,--smiting with grasp'd beams
A howling, withering, ghast, demoniac shape,
Crouched like a venomous reptile,--rage and fear
Gleaming in his fell eyes,--who cursed, and gnashid,

And yelled, till death's last livid agony."--pp. 200, 201. The blasted body of Hadad is dragged from the cave, an object of terror and loathing, and Tamar is restored to her friends in Jerusalem.

The character of Tamar is finely and delicately drawn. good deal of talent is also shown in the sketches we have of the fearless, fiery, and sanguinary Joab, of the frank and humane Ittai, of the mild and benevolent David, and the ambitious and impetuous Absalom. Hadad, likewise, as it seems to us, is a fortunate conception, and the author has managed it with exceeding art. He has contrived to interest us in his fortunes, before we are suffered to know that he is a fallen spirit inhabiting a human body. His youth, his eloquence, his sensibility to natural beauty, his passion for Tamar, his melancholy, and his tears, for the poet even gives him tears, all conspire to enlist our sympathy in his favour. There is, throughout, something mysterious in his demeanour and language, in the extent of his knowledge, and the efficiency of his agency, and he frequently drops dark allusions to his real character, and seems more than once on the point of revealing it to Tamar. All these circumstances prepare the mind for the disclosure which he finally makes, so that although it surprises and agitates, it does not shock us. Even after this disclosure, our principal feeling towards him is that of compassion, and it is not till just before the conclusion, when all the demon breaks out through his disguises, that we are made thoroughly to detest him. We are also greatly mistaken, if there is not, in the idea of a fiend taking the place of a human soul, and animating a human body, something more palpably appalling, something of more substantial terror, than in the common machinery of mere bodiless phantoms and spectres. It is an idea which our minds, accustomed as they are to speculate on the union of the soul and body, admit without difficulty. It confers on the object of our apprehensions a certain fearful connexion and kindred with our race, making it to walk and dwell among us, in appearance one of ourselves, yet most fearfully distinguished from us by malignity, and knowledge, and power.

On a subject respecting which opinions and tastes vary so much, as on the propriety of the introduction of supernatural machinery into works of fiction, it would be arrogance in us to pretend to lay down any precise rules. Indeed, the capacity of being interested by things of this nature, depends so much upon constitution and temperament, and is so variously modified by accident and education, that all principles relating to the subject must be extremely general and indefinite. That author, however, may be pronounced happy in the use of supernatural machinery, who succeeds in exciting by it an interest in the minds of the majority of readers. The most effectual way of doing this, is to have recourse to notions which make a part of the popular and general belief. Now it seems to us that the conception of Hadad is not too far removed from that belief, to be willingly entertained by the mind. The common doctrine attributes to evil spirits an influence upon the minds of men, and it is not stepping very far out of the shadowy and uncertain boundaries of that doctrine, to allow them power over matter. We shall then have no difficulty in conceiving that a fallen spirit may

enter and bear about limbs abandoned of human life. We think, however, that the author has given Hadad too large a retinue. We could allow him the “ dromedary fiend," as it is only once mentioned by Obil, one of the king's grooms, but the crook-back Maagrabin, a vulgar subordinate devil, lodged, as it appears, like Hadad in a human body, and withaí a most unsightly one, is a gratuitous and unnecessary addition. The same thing may be said of the phantom raised by BalaamHaddon in the sepulchre of David. "We could wish that all the supernatural agency of the piece were concentrated in Hadad; we are convinced that this would greatly increase the effect which his character, and the part he takes in the action, are fitted to produce. At present, the terrific interest inspired by these is in some degree weakened by being divided among a number of agents. The work before us has been written with no small degree of

It is a work which will bear more than one reading, and is constructed of materials that will endure. It is delightful to take up a native production, and among so many things worthy of praise, to find so few opportunities to censure. This is not a book in which a few striking and powerful passages appear amidst a waste of surrounding feebleness, like green oases in an African desert. Here are no unfinished characters, no gaps nor obscurities in the plot, nor puerilities of language or of sentiment. Every page bears the marks of unusual talent strenuously and successfully exerted. Into almost every work of taste, there will unavoidably creep, in the course of the composition, extravagances, weaknesses, and inconsistencies, and imperfect or languid passages will be produced in moments of hurry and lassitude. These our author has resolutely blotted out, and has come before the public with a present worthy of himself and of them—with the fruits of his strength, and his skill, and his happiest inspirations.


Art. II.--Report of the Secretary of War, of a Plan for the re

duction of the Armyof the United States. December 12, 1820. Washington : Printed by Gales and Seaton.

Before we proceed to the consideration of Mr. Calhoun's plan of organizing the Peace Establishment of the United States, we propose to examine a question, which has excited much discussion in past times, as well as the present, and on which it is desirable that every citizen in the community should entertain correct opinions. It is not enough for the preservation of liberty, that men should think with freedom : they must also be able to think justly—especially upon subjects, which have a serious influence upon the character as well as upon the interests of the particular society, of which they constitute a part.

It is an opinion sanctioned by time and experience, that standing armies are inimical to popular liberty. This proposition is one of those, which are true only under certain limitations, and these it will be our business to discuss. The physical relations of our country with other nations, the nature of our social organization, and the intellectual condition of the people, give us elements of stability and exemption from public commotions, both external and domestic, which no other country has ever possessed. We are emphatically, as we have often been denominated, “ a thinking people,” capable of strong and elevated resolutions, but little liable to excitement, except upon questions connected with our public liberty. Fortified as we are by our prevailing temper and character, and by the free institutions to which they have given existence, the subject we are about to discuss might not have attracted our attention, but from the renewed importance, which it has received from an authority high in the eyes of the nation ;* especially, as we have ever been disposed to regard apprehensions of danger from the prevalence of the military spirit

, in a country like ours, as the fruits of a prejudice, which the progress of mind has nearly exploded.

* See Mr. Clay's letter to Judge Brooke.

In monarchical governments, where all appointments to military offices are made by the prince; where the military establishment is subject to his exclusive authority; where the soldier, oftentimes a foreigner, being enlisted for life, becomes identified with him ; where the body of the soldiery, being an essential part of the public police, becomes confounded with the public authority; and where a continued habit of dependance transfers to the person of the sovereign those feelings of loyalty, which properly belong to the country, numerous mercenary forces, endued with a cultivated discipline, strengthen the arm of government, diminish the character and importance of the citizen, and render life, liberty, and property, less secure.

But in a nation of freemen, where the representatives of the people have a voice in all military appointments; where enlistments are for a short period; where the soldier is almost always a native; where the Chief Magistracy, being reversionary, presents to the army no individual endowed with permanent authority, or provided with any independent means of securing its affections ; and where the soldiery has no part in enforcing the execution of the laws—a small military estab lishment, subject to the annual enactments of the national legislature, cannot, without extraordinary powers of fancy, be deemed dangerous to the quietude and security of the state. In the former case, there are many reasons why the soldier should forget the duties of the citizen, and sink into a passive instrument of power. In the latter case, there are as many reasons why the soldier should be so much of a citizen as to fail in the principle of subordination, and carry with him to the performance of his duties a spirit of independence hardly compatible with the arbitrary nature of military rule.

In history, as in experimental philosophy, the omission of an operating cause in the examination of a result, necessarily vitiates the inference which is drawn from the examination. In experimental philosophy, whenever a practical application of principles is attempted, if all the necessary powers be not present at the experiment, the result will be different from that which is expected or has been foretold. So in history, if, in tracing events back to their origin, every thing which concerns the social institutions, habits, character, and geographical relations of a people, be not contained in the estimate, the conclusion, being illegitimately drawn, cannot safely be assumed as a guide in the subsequent transactions of society. Inaccuracies are the more likely to occur in historical conclusions, because causes remote in their rise, and silent in their operation, often

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