And hence it comes, he leaves his friends and home, His heart sits lightly on its rustic throne, The fields, the herds, the flocks are all his own.' While suffering under the evils of rheumatic agonies,' Basil hears of that land of plenty and happiness to which so many pilgrims have adventured, and resolves to seek a refuge there. It was spring, and he soon felt its potent influence upon his frame. 'Who can resist the coaxing voice of Spring, When flowers put forth and sprightly songsters sing? And shames the holy dame that gave him birth; We are her children, and when forth she bies, Dress'd in her wedding suit of varied dyes, Would not possess for all beneath the sky.' : Every thing being in readiness, the cavalcade leaves the birth place of the wanderers, and the second canto opens with their 'travel's history.' It was the dawn of day: 'Dark was the early dawn, dun vapours chill, They pass down the banks of the Hudson, by that romantic Scenery which the events of the revolution have made celebrated. 'Here mid the piling mountains scatter'd round, His winding way majestic Hudson found, A lovelier landscape caught the gazer's view, Did what the man that doubts them ne'er would do.' We have then an eloquent and indignant invective against the man who attempted to erase one of the fairest passages in his country's history, and the narrative proceeds with Basil's journey through Jersey to the Delaware, at its junction with the Lehigh, when we meet with the following graceful comparison: 'Twas just where rambling Lehigh-pleasant stream! Ev'n like a gentle, all confiding maid, By true Affection's fondest impulse sway'd, And that sweet virgin name of old she bore.' The poet now leads his hero' through Pennsylvanian landscapes, rich and gay,' till they reach the heights of the immense Allegheny. Here we have a highly poetic description of the scenery of these mountains, which we have no room to copy, and at the conclusion of the second canto, the travellers arrive at Pittsburgh. The third book opens with a spirited denial of the blunders of Fortune, who 'Plays the tyrant only with the fool.' We then embark with our pilgrims on the broad surface of the Ohio, and their voyage is described so faithfully, and with so much of the true soul of poetry, that long as is the passage, we cannot refrain from copying it. 'As down Ohio's ever ebbing tide, Oarless and sailless silently they glide, How still the scene, how lifeless, yet how fair, VOL. XII. 58 No solitary hut, the banks along, Sent forth blithe Labour's homely rustic song, They seem'd to breathe in this wide world alone, They at length arrive at their destined home, and the labours of the new settler commence. Time and industry add to his wealth and comforts, his children grow apace, and in his hours of leisure he recounts to them the virtues and exploits of their countrymen. 'Of virtuous Greene, whose cherish'd name shall be As everlasting as thy hills, Santee, And borne on Fame's untir'd, earth-circling wings, Of Marion, by his country not half known.' Of the hardships and courage of the soldiers of the revolution, of whom Not one betray'd his suffering Country's cause, Begg'd their way home, at every scoundrel's door.' Then follows an eloquent eulogium on the spotless character of him who surpassed all Greek all Roman fame.' The canto ends with a description and vindication of the life of the frontier settlers, and here we lose sight of Basil till the conclusion of the poem. In the fourth canto the author has introduced the celebrated Prophet, by whose intrigues the war of 1812 was stirred up among the Indians. His character is drawn in a bold and masterly style, and his harangues and the war feasts of the savages communicate great interest to this part of the poem. The beginning of the fifth canto describes the preparations on both sides for hostilities, between the English and their Indian allies on one part, and the western republicans on the other. This unholy alliance between the christian and the savage, is adverted to with becoming censure and indignation; the rest of the canto is occupied with a dialogue between the Prophet and an aged pilgrim, in which the author has evinced great power and pathos. The defeat of the allied forces, the restoration of security to the American frontier, and the final happiness and prosperity of the west, are the themes of the last book. We have already made such copious selections, that we have but little room left for passages from this, which upon the whole we are inclined to think is the most striking part of the poem. The outrages committed by the British and their allies during the war of 1812, and the disinclination to defence manifested in one part of the union, call forth from the author the following animated and spirited lines: 'Could men, whose eyes first saw the blessed day, There have been such oblivion shield their name, The poor man's long-sought, new-found, promis'd land After some striking passages on the alliance between danger and glory, we meet with a strong and earnest and feeling eulogium on the private soldiery, the peasantry who fight their country's battles: Not in the hope of glory or of gold, Not in the hope their story will be told To challenge wonder in some distant age.' And then a lofty and contemptuous vindication of the capacity and power of these for self-government. But for this and many other beautiful passages we have no room. We must conclude our extracts with a description of the march of the militia against the British and Indians. The nodding plume that shades the brow of war, No rattling drum its far-heard music made, Each step they take, they pause with watchful care, They come like foxes, like gaunt tigers fight, What we have already said is sufficient to show the estimation in which we hold this admirable performance. We consider it as one of the greatest accessions our poetry has received, whether we regard the pure taste, the sound political principles, or the descriptive talents of its author, and we hope that the success with which he has met in this work, will encourage him to other and higher exertions. To be the popular poet of a nation like this, is no mean distinction, and to direct the national taste to a source at |