deduced from the modern established theory of the nebular cosmogony.1 Mr. Macaulay, in short, has forgotten that he frequently forgets, or neglects, the very gist of his subject. He has forgotten that analogical evidence cannot, at all times, be discoursed of as if identical with proof direct. Throughout the whole of his treatise he has made no distinction what

ever.

CORSE DE LEON: OR THE BRIGAND. A ROMANCE. By G. P. R. JAMES. Two VOLUMEs. AND BROTHERS.

[Text: Graham's Magazine, June, 1841.]

HARPER

BERNARD DE ROHAN and Isabel de Brienne are betrothed to each other in childhood; but the father of the latter dying, and her mother marrying again, the union of the two lovers is opposed by the father-in-law, the Lord of Masseran, who has another husband in view for her, the Count de Meyrand. To escape his persecutions, the heroine elopes, and is married in a private chapel to De Rohan; but just as the ceremony has closed, the pair are surprised by Masseran and Meyrand, who fling the hero into a dungeon, and bear off Isabel. The young wife manages to escape, however, and reaches Paris to throw herself on the protection of the King, Henry the Second. Here she learns that her husband, whom the monarch had ordered to be

1 This cosmogony demonstrates that all existing bodies in the universe are formed of a nebular matter, a rare ethereal medium, pervading space; shows the mode and laws of formation, and proves that all things are in a perpetual state of progress; that nothing in nature is perfected.

In vain

freed, has perished in a conflagration of Masseran's castle; and she determines to take the veil. the king endeavours to persuade her to wait. She is inflexible, until surprised by the reappearance of De Rohan, who, instead of perishing as supposed, has been rescued, unknown, by Corse de Leon, a stern, wild, yet withal, generous sort of a brigand, with whom he had become accidentally acquainted on the frontiers of Savoy. As the stolen marriage of the lovers has been revoked by a royal edict, it is necessary that the ceremony should be repeated. A week hence is named for the wedding, but before that time arrives De Rohan not only fights. unavoidably, of course with his rival, which the monarch has forbidden, but is accused by Masseran of the murder of Isabel's brother in a remote province of France. De Rohan is tried, found guilty, and condemned to die; but on the eve of execution is rescued by his good genius, the brigand. He flies his country, and in disguise joins the army in Italy, where he greatly distinguishes himself. Finally, he storms and carries a castle, by the assistance of Corse de Leon, which Meyrand, now an outlaw, is holding out against France; at the same time rescuing his long lost bride from the clutches of the count, into which she had fallen by the sack of a neighbouring abbey. In the dungeon of the captured castle Isabel's brother is discovered, he having been confined there by Masseran, prior to charging De Rohan with his murder. After a little farther bye-play, which only spoils the work, and which we shall not notice, the lovers are united, and thenceforth all goes merry as a marriage bell."

This is the outline of the plot-well enough in its way; but partaking largely of the common-place, and

marred by the conclusion, which we have omitted, and which was introduced only for the purpose of introducing the famous death of Henry the Second, at a

tournament.

The characters, however, are still more commonplace. De Rohan and Isabel are like all James' lovers,

mere nothings; Father Welland and Corse de Leon are the beneficent spirits, and Meyrand and Masseran are the evil geniuses, of the novel. The other characters are lifeless, common, and uncharacteristic. They make no impression, and you almost forget their names. There is no originality in any of them, and save a passage of fine writing here and there, nothing to be praised in the book. Corse de Leon, the principal character, talks philosophy like Bulwer's heroes, and is altogether a plagiarism from that bombastic, unnatural, cut-throat school; besides, he possesses a universality of knowledge, combined with a commensurable power, which, although they get the hero very conveniently out of scrapes, belie all nature. In short, this is but a readable novel, and a mere repetition of the author's former works.

POWHATAN: A METRICAL ROMANCE IN SEVEN CANTOS. BY SEBA SMITH. NEW YORK, HARPER AND BROTHERS.

[Text: Graham's Magazine, July, 1841.]

WHAT few notices we have seen of this poem speak of it as the production of Mrs. Seba Smith. To be sure, gentlemen may be behind the scenes, and know more about the matter than we do. They may have some private reason for understanding that black is white

some reason into which we, personally, are not initiated. But, to ordinary perception, "Powhatan" is the composition of Seba Smith, Esquire, of Jack Downing memory, and not of his wife. Seba Smith is the name upon the title-page; and the personal pronoun which supplies the place of this well-known prænomen and cognomen in the preface is, we are constrained to say, of the masculine gender. "The author of Powhatan - thus, for example, runs a portion of the prolegomena "does not presume to claim for his production the merit of good and genuine poetry, nor does he pretend to assign it a place in the classes or forms into which poetry is divided," in all which, by the way, he is decidedly right. But can it be that no gentleman has read even so far as the preface of the book? Can it be that the critics have had no curiosity to creep into the adyta - into the inner mysteries of this temple? If so, they are decidedly right, too.

"Powhatan" is handsomely bound. Its printing is clear beyond comparison. Its paper is magnificent, and we undertake to say (for we have read it through with the greatest attention) that there is not a single typographical error in it, from one end to the other. Further than this, in the way of commendation, no man with both brains and conscience should proceed. In truth, a more absurdly flat affair

-

for flat is the

was never be

only epithet which applies in this case fore paraded to the world with so grotesque an air of bombast and assumption.

To give some idea of the tout ensemble of the book - we have first a dedication to the " Young People of the United States," in which Mr. Jack Downing lives in the hope that he may do some good in his day and generation, by adding something to the sources of

rational enjoyment and mental culture." Next we have a preface, occupying four pages, in which, quoting his publishers, the author tells us that poetry is a "very great bore, and won't sell" a thing which

cannot be denied in certain cases, but which Mr. Downing denies in his own. "It may be true," he says, "of endless masses of words that are poured forth from the press under the name of poetry; but it is not true of genuine poetry of that which is worthy of the name ; in short, we presume he means to say it is

not in the least little bit true of "Powhatan," with regard to whose merits he wishes to be tried, not by the critics (we fear, in fact, that here it is the critics who will be tried), "but by the common taste of common readers" - all which ideas are common enough,

to say no more.

We have next a "Sketch of the Character of Powhatan," which is exceedingly interesting and commendable, and which is taken from Burk's " History of Virginia" four pages more. Then comes a Poem four pages more, forty-eight lines, twelve lines to a page in which all that we can understand is something about the name of " Powhatan.’

of the author, that is to say, of Jack Downing, Esquire. We have now, one after the other, CANTOS one, two, three, four, five, six, and seven, each subdivided into PARTS by means of Roman numerals, some of these PARTS comprehending as many as six lines, upon the principle, we presume, of packing up precious commodities in small bundles. The volume then winds up with Notes, in proportion of three to one, as regards