lar productions in Europe. We speak not of France ;—for there, literature is low, indeed. The Reviews of that country have been stopped, now, nearly twelve months, because they have no new, original French publications to examine. The chief bulk of the present literature in France, consists of miserable, meagre translations from the mere refuse and sweepings of English intellect, in the shape of Novels and Romances. And well might it be so ;-for under the frown of the bloody brow of despotism, what wise or good man will write?—and as for knaves and fools, they can produce nothing.—Let the horrible præcepts of Jacobinism in France add yet another host of facts to support this all-important truth ;—that the love of science must ever sink with the love of liberty;—that public spirit, freedom, and literature must be buried in one common grave ;—and that the virtue, the happiness, the energies, the independence of a nation, will always wing their last flight, when the last spark of religion and of knowledge is extinguished. To the present condition of France may be applied the words of the most lucid of the Roman historians.

66 Ουθ' αι αρχαι τα νενομισμένα επρασσον. Τα δε δικαστηρια επέπαυτο, και συμβολαιον ουδεν εγιγνετο. αλλ' η τε ταραχη και η ακρίσια πανταχε πολλη ην, και ονομα πολεως εφερον, στρατοπεδου δε δεν απειχον.

دو

THE STRANGER IN IRELAND, or a Tour in the southern and western parts of that country in the year 1805, by John Carr, Esq. of the honourable Society of the Middle Temple. Author of a Northern Summer, the Stranger in France, &c. third American Edition. To which is, now, first added an appendix containing an account of Thomas Dermody, the Irish poet, a wonderful instance of prematurity of genius.-New-York: printed by and for I Riley & Co. 1807, 1 vol. 8vo. pages 334; price $1 50—for sale by Brisban & Brannan, New-York.

M

R. CARR'S Stranger in Ireland is a very interesting production. His language is, occasionally, quaint and affected, and his attempts to be witty, are very frequently, faint and feeble.-But the character, which he gives of the Irish, is masterly, correct, true to nature, spirited, dignified. Six centuries of pure, and unalloyed oppression, have not been able to break, or to bend down the high, reluctant spirit

of the people of Ireland. The reign of terror and of suspicion has been too long suffered to lay waste fair Ierne's land, the sweetest Isle of the ocean.-What protection has England hitherto afforded to her sister-country ?-what protection, save that, which the oak gives to the ignorant countryman, who flies to it as a shelter from the storm ;-it draws down the lightning from heaven to blast him with the stroke of death?

Let the British government, in very deed and in truth, cherish, and support the people of Ireland, and bind round their hearts the silken ties of amity and love, and the children of Britannias sea-girt isle, may, with lofty confidence, say unto their enemies,-Come the three corners of the world, in arms, against us, and we will shock them.

But of that strain no more ;-now and then, indeed, the thoughts of other days, and other times,-now, no more,will bring with them a momentary, doubtful, trembling glimpse of what might have been.-But of that enough.Let the shades of retirement, and obscurity, now, thicken around our heads!!!

We forbear from transcribing ought from the Stranger in Ireland, because it is a book, which deserves, and must and will have a very general and extensive perusal ;—it is a book, which cannot be read without delight and improvement, by any, save those, who have neither hearts to feel, nor heads to understand.

The account of Dermody is judiciously extracted from "the life of Dermody by J. G. Raymond, Esqr;"—it drew the tears down our cheeks, albeit unused to the melting mood. It is a most important, and awful lesson, teaching, that, without virtue, and moral restraint, without a due discernment of time and circumstance,-without a strict observance of all the established decencies and regulations of social order,-nothing is great, and nothing is strong.

The over-bearing, the marvellous, the almost incredible talents of Dermody were obscured, and rendered of little, or no avail, by the turbulence of his passions ;-by his total disregard of all prudence ;-and above all, by that despicable propensity to low and vulgar company, which alone is more

than sufficient to counter-balance any advantages, which can result from loftiness of genius, or from comprehensive learning.

Mr. Raymond has drawn up Dermody's character, in the main, forcibly and well;-but he is mistaken, when he fancies that the poetical powers of the young bard were-“ intuitive," which, if it mean any thing, must mean natural, so as to embrace the doctrine of innate ideas, and, at once, to gash at the root of all metaphysical science.

This philosophical discovery resembles that of the poet Rowe, who says of Shakspeare,

"Art had so little, and nature so large a share in what he did, that, for aught I know," (which might very well be, for Rowe was no conjurer)" the performances of his youth, as they were the most vigorous, were the best."

But neither Shakspeare, nor Dermody, had any other means of acquiring knowledge, than those, which all men share, in common, with them. They must have derived all the materials of their knowledge, through the medium of their sensible organs; and they could not impart more than they had learned by sensation, and reflection.-Nature gives no man knowledge, her power is nothing more than the capacity of using those materials of knowledge, which attention and observation acquire. Consequently, Shakspeare and Dermody, like other men, must have augmented their stock of ideas, by gradual acquisition, and have increased their knowledge, as they advanced in age;-could pourtray the passions. of the human heart, with more effect, the more intimately they were acquainted with them; and give their instructions with the more efficacy, and with the greater vigour, in proportion as they themselves were more abundantly instructed by their frequent, though irregular irruptions into the regions of knowledge.

THE WANDERER OF SWITZERLAND, and other Poems, by James Montgomery. First American from the second London Edition. New-York, printed for S. Stansbury. 111 Water-street, 1807.

THIS

HIS book is decorated by a very elegant engraving, as its frontispiece, which adds another wreathe to those already entwined around the brows of Tisdale and of Leney.

The characteristics of Montgomery, as a poet, are-ease, simplicity, tenderness, the most deeply interesting strains of pathos, and occasional out-breaks and flashes of sublimity.Here, and there, but very seldom, a tame line, or a little defect in the rythm occurs ;—but all his poems are calculated to soften and refine the heart, to render religion amiable and morality attractive; to swell the soul with the throbbing emotions of freedom and of dignified independence; to endear to us all those domestic ties, which constitute, at once, the most permanent bulwark, and the brightest ornament of society.

All this is done, even, by the lesser poems of Montgomery. But, accursed be the heart, that does not wildly throb,-and palsied be the eye, that will not, weep over the woes of the Wanderer of Switzerland!--for in that eye tearfalling pity can never dwell;-and in that heart are, for ever, dried up all the sources of virtuous feeling, and for ever closed all the sluices of humanity.

We consider ourselves as deeply indebted to the publisher for presenting to the American public so elegant an edition of a book, which goes directly to forward all the best interests of society, by softening and ennobling the human heart.

We do not transcribe any portion of this exquisite work, because we should find it difficult to refrain from inserting too large a selection for the limits of our review,-and, also, because there is no part of the book, which the reader can possibly peruse, without deriving both instruction and delight.

WE

FOURTH SECTION.

AMERICAN COMMUNICATIONS.

E have not, yet, received any biography of American excellence, whether living, or dead: we have solicited such communications, now, nearly four months, but in vain. I will meet you to-morrow, said the late Lord C― to his friend; if I do not come, you may conclude, that I am dead. Lord C― did not keep his appointment, and his friend put an advertisement into all the most respectable news-papers, that the Earl of C was dead.-We, therefore, give public notice, that, if we have no American biography sent to us, in the course of this month, we shall be under the disagreeable necessity of proclaiming, that all the people, in this country, are dead.

We must again, beg the indulgence of our correspondent Exetastes, as to the insertion of his communication, respecting the graphic art, in this country, which we are compelled to postpone to a future opportunity.

The communication from a gentleman at Richmond, in Virginia, giving an account of that city, we must, reluctantly, but unavoidably, defer to insert till the month of May. The poem intitled "Gratitude," which we have received from a Lady at Charleston, in South Carolina, one of the most accomplished of her sex, we will, with the greatest pleasure, insert in our Magazine for next month; as we, also, shall do, an excellent Essay on "Fancy," communicated by a young gentleman of South Carolina.

To the communication of the person, who uses the signature of Amicus, we can give no place in our Register; which we will never suffer to be the vehicle of mere party-politics, and much less, of low, dirty, personal abuse. If you have quarrelled with your neighbour, Amicus, settle it, as it becomes a gentleman, and do not seek to stab him in the dark by any such malignant effusions, as those, which we, now, reject, with all imaginable contempt, and detestation.