Poems, Lyrical and Miscellaneous, by the late Rev. Henry Moore, of Liskeard. Small 8vo. pp 204. price 4s. Johnson, London, 1806. But in thy gospel see . shine, With grace and glories more divine, Proclaiming sins forgiven; There Faith, bright cherub, points the way .And opens all her heaven. Then let the love that makes me blest, And all my thoughts and passions tend Dart from thine own celestial flame With kindred energy ; Mark thine own image on my mind; FAITH, Ir is a pleasure to us to meet with religion and poetry united: we have seen much good poetry that was bad to detestation in a moral sense; and we have seen not a little religious versification, that was too stupid to be honoured with the name of poetry. And yet, there is a natural | Life's ceaseless labours, and illusive joys, sympathy between the animation, the rapture of poetry, and the feelings of devotion. Is the sympathy so close, that like members of the same family they do Did not the cherub Faith's reviving voice, not choose each other for mates? or, have the flashy qualities by which some worldly pretensions delude, seduced the weaker from the most honorable alliance to more dazzling, but more dangerous connections? Whatever be the cause the effect is unhappily notorious: to the grief The work of many observant minds. before us is a highly commendable exception, and combines much of the fervour of poetry with a religious turn of sentiment, as the reader may discern in the following specimen. DIVINE LOVE. My God, thy boundless love I praise, It streams from thine eternal throne; And o'er the earth they flow. In ev'ry vernal beam it glows, It robes in cheerful green the ground, It's storms and waves, what brazen breast could bear, Sound it's sweet music in Affliction's ear? The seaman thus, long tost by stormy seas, With looks of rapture eyes the black'ning land, This volume appears to have been loss. The Lettres sur le Valais; Letters describing the Valais, the Manners of its Inhabitants, &c. by M. Echasseriaux. 1 vol. in Svo. Paris. Price 6s, Dulau and Co. THE discoveries of travellers receive additional importance in the eyes of sedentary readers, from the distance at which they are often placed. The savage inhabitant of a remote island, becomes, in narrative, an interesting object; accounts of his manners are perused with avidity, and the rude produce of his industry, excites the admiration of the gaping world. Less interest is raised by those remnants of ancient people, who from local or political circumstances, preserve, in the midst of Europe, some of the characteristics of its former inhabitants. Naturalists describe the physical state of countries, and their productions; but man has been too generally excluded from their researches. Other travellers, hastening to scenes of wealth, and of polished luxury, pass unnoticed, these rough but genuine, and living monuments of former ages; as they tread in contempt the uncultivated waste while their eyes are fixed on the stately park, and the elegancies of dignified domain. Valais, situated between France, Italy, and Switzerland, has been, till now, hardly mentioned by writers of travels. Lost in the general geography of Europe, unconnected with foreign politics, and almost inaccessible; it was only known by some slight notice in the general description of Switzerland, of which it made a part, before the French revolution. M. Echasseriaux has undertaken to supply this deficiency: he had many opportunities for observing, having been employed in that country, by the French government; and the result of his observations, is the work before us. The first part, describing the physical state of Valais, and the manners of its inhabitants, is in the form of letters; it is followed by several landscapes as Mr. E. quaintly terms them, or descriptions of particular sites; a superficial account of the well known natural productions of the country, terminates this small volume. Valais, says Mr. E., is perhaps the most secluded spot in Europe by nature, and the most deficient in those communications which give life and animation to a country, by facilitating the intercourse of men, and the exchange of commodities. Two chains of mountains extending 160 miles from east to west, from Saint Gingolph to the sources of the Rhine, form this picturesque valley, whose greatest breadth is hardly three miles; five other small lateral valleys, which appear to be branches of the first, form together the territory of Valais. On the mountains and in the plains, dwells a population of 70,000 souls, which from the difference of language, and the local influence of a varying climate, seems composed of different species of men. The revolutions of the globe have left deep traces every where in this wild spot, which is itself in a gradual state of physical revolution. At every step, the traveller beholds, and passes over, the wrecks of nature. A river which here pours like a torrent, there expands into a spreading sheet of water, shifts alternately its bed, and its course, and rolls successively its floods mixed with ruins, over the whole valley, spreading devastation. Torrents tumbling from abrupt heights furrowing the sides of the mountain, carrying sand and large stones in their rapid descent. Huge rocks at times breaking away, and overwhelming with ruin, cultivated fields, and sometimes entire villages; such is the aspect presented to the observant traveller by this territory, which seems as if it had not been intended for the habitation of man. Nature which has multiplied so many evils on this land, has nevertheless, scattered also her choicest gifts in many places. The alternate influence of a prevailing humidity, and of the heat of the climate, quickens into life the latent seeds of the most precious and most useful plants. Hills covered with vineyards, producing excellent wine; small plots of corn, scattered here and there, a variety of temperatures, and of climates, which favours at the same time the different fruits of several seasons; such is the smiling prospect nature contrasts, or rather mingles, with the wild and rough landscape I drew before. The same instinctive impulse which has fixed large populations in the most fertile countries, which has drawn and scattered tribes and families in the most fruitful spots, has directed the distribution of the population of this country. Wherever a verdant mantle bedecks the ground, wherever a small arable plot appears, there you certainly find a house, a cottage, or a cabin; in every little plain you meet with a village or a hamlet, or, if the valley opens, with a small town. The Valaisan is confined to that spot where he can live; there he erects his dwelling, and this place is his country. You are not, however, to expect in Valais a population adequate to the extent of its territory. The proportion of arable ground it contains, is to that, of other countries of Europe as 1 to 18. Nature has left but few spots to the industry of man mountains, rivers, torrents, and marshes, engross the rest of the country. peo The Valaisan is either a husbandman, or a shepherd; the former dwells most by the valleys, the latter on the mountains. Agriculture is the only kind of industry this ple exercises, or is even acquainted with, yet it is neglected, and its produce is hardly more than adequate to the wants of the inhabitants. Those speculations which create an active rivalship in industry, are unknown in Valais. There fortune is not the aim of ambition; but its allurements are powerless. Social institutions and national spirit tend to keep wealth and industry on a general level: little labour is exerted because wants are but few. The rude manufactures of the country, are entirely relinquished to foreign hands; mines of gold, silver, and copper, exist, but those rich metals remain buried in the mountains, nor tempt the cupidity of a poor and indolent, people. Circumscribed in the narrow circle of his wants, the Valaisan does not envy the wealth, industry, and luxury diffused over the rest of Europe. No people in the world demands less from fortune, or puts itself less in the way of her favours; this people is a proof that there are nations whom example cannot seduce. honesty, the first of social excellencies, which pervades all his actions; few crimes disgrace the country; it has hardly any police, and no public force; Religion seems to be the great curb; it is the first occupation, as it is the first sentiment of the Valaisan. He is poor in his humble dwelling, but the village-church is always richly ornamented; his temple is to him the universe; a multiplicity of holydays occupies the time and the passions of a people, void of industrious activity, and equally stranger to speculations and to arts. Such is the exterior appearance of this small state, the interior of families offers nothing very extraordinary: you will only find frequently that simplicity of manners already pourtrayed in glowing colours by a celebrated writer, (J. J. Rousseau). This poor and inoffensive people, has however experienced the effects of that terrible revolution, whose focus was so near them. The political fermentation the entrance of Italy, the Valaisan has soon subsided; but to secure the French he found in his connection with Switzerbeen torn from the congenial protection land; a new constitution has been forced upon him, and Valais now forms a separate state, dependent on France. framing the new government, some of the ancient customs of the people have been respected; but they regret the loss of many former habits; and M. E. in Those discoveries, those great events, which in the three last centuries have given the people of Europe such impulse towards industry and commerce, have produced no sensation in Valais. Still are the people of this country strangers to those arts and to that activity, by which cities have been built, embellished, and enriched; and which have improved society, by introducing convenien-veighs too bitterly for a man of his seemcies, enjoyments, and wealth, into private ing moderation, against the attachment families. The Valaisan has remained sta- they still manifest for them. tionary amid the progress of civilization; the history of the 14th century continues to be the history of this present day; the national characteristics are still the same; and the time which has elapsed has effected no alteration in his moral existence, nor improvement in his system of political economy. Hermitages, charnel houses, chapels hewn in the rock, stationed at the foot of the mountain, on its rugged sides, and even on its dreary summit, manifest the turn of mind of the Valaisan. In this country a cross is erected before the enormous ruins of a mountain which has given way; and a cross is also raised instead of a strong dam, against threatening torrents. The religion of the country might appear to a foreigner tinged with the fanaticism of former centuries; this however is not the case; for the Valaisan, in general, is incapable of strong and fervid passions. Sincerely attached in the simplicity of his heart, to a belief founded on conviction, he derives hence his virtucs, his morality, and that M. E. was himself one of the first law-givers of France; and Valais appears to him a fine field for improvement. His ideas although expressed in rather too lofty a style, will not be deemed by some readers undeserving of consideration, for and knowledge of the Valaisans; yet he professes a wish to increase the wealth he might be asked how these doubtful advantages, even if realized, could add to the happiness of such a people? What enjoyments can riches afford to him whose wants are but few, and whose desires extend no further? What could the Valaisan expect from the more generous pursuit of science, but to discover defects of which he has never been sensible, and to awaken sentiments of a misery new to his feelings. The great and almost the only care of its former government, was to exclude foreign manners; strangers were not permitted to settle in the country, but with many forms and many difficulties; they were liable to be sent away at any time, and a kind of ostracism, banished even the citizen who deviated from the ancient simplicity. When the former French sovereigns had in contemplation to join the Rhone with the Po, by a canal, which was to have run through Valais, the government of that country refused their consent to the undertaking, saying, the commerce it would introduce would debase the purity of their manners. Our author's landscapes taken separately, are not totally void of interest; but the too frequent introduction of icy mountains, dreadful precipices, roaring torrents, foaming cataracts, and all the sublime horrors of nature, throw a kind of monotony over the whole. We have chosen the following extract of M. E's. journey to the hospital of Mount St. Bernard, as no unfavourable specimen of his descriptive powers. We were pursuing our way, endeavouring to discover the hospital of St. Bernard, among the summits of mountains heaped on mountains. We could hear nothing but the whistling of the wind, rushing through winding passages, and beating against the angles of the rocks. A dreadful stillness prevailed around us; in this spot all forms are lost in confusion: no language can afford adequate expressions, no description can convey an idea of the surrounding scenery; it was the chaos of the world. Ancient opinion and fear too well founded, have marked by sinister names every part of this dangerous valley leading to the hospital, and commanded on all sides by impending avalanches. Itself is called the valley of the dead: that peak which raises its head above the hospital is the mountain of the dead: that small building not far from the hospital is the chapel of the dead. At last, we perceived the hospital of St. Bernard Hail! cried I, sacred mansion, the asylum of the unfortunate! Before we could reach it we had to cross a long way covered with snow several fathoms deep, and to overcome a very steep ascent. What a pleasure to discover this house after a painful journey! How grateful is the welcome of these respectable men, cager to receive us under their hospitable dome! We were hardly ushered in 'ere fire and refreshments were ready in the room allotted to us. The chapter of the regular canons was then assembled on affairs of the order, and in an instant we were surrounded by those venerable men. Let my gratitude acknowledge here their tender care and courtesy! The business of the chapter being over, they asked leave to quit us for a moment to go and sing a Te Deum. We followed them to the church. In entering it we were struck by its appearance; sculptures and marbles are its sole ornaments. From the manner in which divine service was performed, we thought ourselves in a small cathedral. The Te Deum began : the sight of this temple, in the solitude of the wilderness, on one of the most elevated spots of the globe; the ceremonies of religion displayed on this dreary summit; the sight of these men, devoted, amidst the horrors of nature, to the assistance of their fellow creatures; religious worship mingled in this asylum with the attentions of humanity; the sound of bells re-echoed by the rocks; the melodious tones of the organ accompanying the pathetic music of the sacred hymn; the various objects excited emotions too exquisite and too lively to be expressed. Here the soul is exalted, and its refined feelings rise to a delight vainly sought elsewhere. When the service was over we adjourned to the hall, where a frugal meal was waiting for us. It was supper time; novices in their religious garb attended us at table, and a dignified cheerfulness enlivened the entertainment. The monks seemed as easy with the strangers as with their family. At last the fatigues of the day made us hasten the hour of rest. The interior of the hospital afterwards attracted our attention; it is not on a very large scale, but its extent seems doubled by the judicions distribution of the apartments. Although situated on the most barren spot, where every article must be conveyed by dreadful roads, "it contains all that is necessary for the relief of the unfortunate. Every thing in the house announces harmony between the different branches of service; regularity and order in the administration. The exercise of humanity does not interfere with religious duties: mildness and austerity are blended in the manners of its inhabitants. Men of every religion, of every profession, the poor like the rich, are received in the hospital with equal eagerness. These monks in their promiscuous hospitality act towards mankind as if already in that state of equality which awaits us beyond the grave. During our stay in the convent, we often witnessed the uniformly kind reception of strangers of every description. Relaxation in discipline has destroyed most of the religious orders: that of the great St. Bernard has existed these ten centuries, and is still in all the fervour of its institution. How far above all others is this benevolent establishment! how much exalted above the vulgar of mankind are these men who risk their lives to save that of their fellowcreatures, who lavishing the tenderest care on strangers, impose on themselves all kinds of austerities; who, strangers to ambition, to 735] Hours of Leisure. pride, to interest, to all the selfish motives The new military road, which our author was the first to pass, begins near Brigg, a small town at the extremity of Valais, and leads over Mount Simplon, to Domo Dassola in Italy, through the richest and most romantic scenery in the whole chain of the Alps. Twentytwo bridges, and six tunnels, hewn in the rock, one of which is 600 feet in length, attest the triumph of persevering art over rugged nature. At times, the traveller is lost in gloomy forests of firs, and larch trees: emerging from them, his senses are almost dizzied by the continual and rapid succession of diversified prospects. Secure on this elevated road, he breathes on a fine day a kind of ethereal freshness, and enjoys at the same time the pleasure of contemplating, without danger and even without fear the steep descent of the valleys, and the abrupt precipices over which he passes. In September, 1805, says our author, the chief engineer invited me to inspect the road in order to ascertain if it was practicable, should occasion oblige us to make use of it. We left Brigg on the 7th, with the grand bailli, or chief magistrate of Valais, to open it with solemnity; our coaches, the first ever seen in this wilderness, excited the wonder of the rude inhabitants of the Alps, and of Domo Dassola. At the sight of the multitude flocking to meet us, at the signs of amazement which our equipage inspired, I beheld in imagination, the wonder of those islanders, who saw for the first time European vessels entering their bays and their harbours. After a flowery description, from whence we have extracted this account, the author exclaims, perhaps sincerely: May it, instead of facilitating the passage of armed battalions and of the dreadful implements of war, big with destruction, promote the circulation of peaceful commerce, which enriches nations by exchanging the produce of their arts and of their industry! Through the defiles of Mount Simplon, Roman legions formerly hastened to the conquest of Germany; may this new road, which will connect Italy with the rest of Europe, increase the means of prosperity of the several nations; it will then deservedly obtain celebrity, and will have answered its true desti nation. This work, as the reader may perceive, affords both instruction and entertainment: but it is far from being free from the defects common to all modern French publications, tautology, overstrained sen timents, incorrect language, and frequent misuse of incoherent metaphors. Hours of Leisure; or Essays and Charac teristics, by George Brewer. 12mo. pp. 366. price 78. boards. London, Hatchard. 1806. THIS work consists of papers, and short essays, comprising remarks, charac ters, anecdotes, descriptions, and criticisms. It is not deficient in variety: and in its very nature is unconfined by order and method. The general tenor of these disquisitions is moral; nor has the author forgotten that the useful should accompany the agreeable. We cannot, however, compliment Mr. B. by ranking him among our best essayists: he is neither a Spectator nor a Rambler. His remarks are neither very uncommon nor very profound; his characters are less the offspring of observation in real life, than of ima gination; his style is not classical, nor is it energetic. His names are unhappily chosen. Nevertheless, this volume may fill up a short leisure: if the impression it leaves on the mind be not extremely powerful, yet it will be innocent. We may commend the intention of the writer as favourable to virtue, though his labours do not appear to us to be of that higher description, which the world of letters will regard as calculated to promote in an eminent degree, the interests of general literature. The following specimen may enable our readers to judge for themselves. It may be said, that such are the accidents, the delays, and the cross purposes, to which we are every day liable, that nothing can be be more absurd than to endeavour to establish any certain system for the apportionment of our time. It is nevertheless as true, if a man who may be placed at the point A, should be desirous to go along a given line to the point G, that he may never be able, from interruptions, to reach the point G; but it will be too much to say that he may not each the points Dor E, or F, in the scale, and which will certainly bring him nearer to the point G than if he had never moved at all. It is true that the course laid down by the wise man should vibrate as little from the true one, as the unhappy variation caused by human infirmities, resembling that of a mariner's needle, will permit; like that too, it |