youth, whose early death is supposed to have been brought on by excessive smoaking of segars."

In the southern states there is one set of people called slingers and another called eleveners. The first of these are so named from taking a quantity of spirits mixed with sugar and mint, and called a sling, every morning before breakfast; the eleveners we suppose begin at eleven o'clock only to their execrable potion. But Mr Janson leaves us a little in the dark as to this fact, having thought fit to veil his meaning in an oracular obscurity of language; a second rate consumer,' says he, ' of distillations from the sugar cane, the grape, and the mulberry, is the eleveners. We do not pretend to unravel the sense of this profound passage, and leave it to the sagacity of the reader.

The horrid and disgusting practice of gouging is proved by our author still to exist. The facts which he gives are contained in the following extract:

'Passing in company with other travellers through the state of Georgia, our attention was arrested by a gouging match. We found the combatants fast clenched by the hair, and their thumbs endea vouring to force a passage into each other's eyes; while several of the bystanders were betting upon the first eye to be turned out of its socket. For some time the combatants avoided the thumb stroke with dexterity. At length they fell to the ground, and in an instant the uppermost sprung up with his antagonist's eye in his hand!! The savage croud applauded, while, sick with horror, we galloped away from the infernal scene. The name of the sufferer was John Butler, a Carolinian, and the first eye was for the honor of the state to which they respectively belonged.

A brute in human form, named John Stanley of Bertie county, North Carolina, sharpens his teeth with a file, and boasts of his dependence on them in fight. This monster will also exult in relating the account of the noses and ears he has bitten off, and the cheeks he has torn.

'A man of the name of Thomas Penrise, then living in Edenton in the same state, attempting at cards to cheat some half drunken sai. lors, was detected. A scuffle ensued; Penrise knocked out the candle, then gouged out three eyes, bit off an ear, tore a few cheeks, and made good his retreat.'

Another favourite diversion in the southern parts of the United States is butting, a mode of combat in which the parties imitating bulls rush against each other with opposed foreheads. This practice our author strenuously asserts is not confined to negroes alone, but prevails equally among the white men. Such exhibitions certainly give rise to no very

favourable ideas of the state of morals and civilization in the American republic.

In the Carolinas Mr. Jansen gives an account of the pleasures of bee-hunting; and his delicacy is greatly shocked by the attendance of naked negro wenches, on which occasion he expressed his displeasure to his landlord, who replied with a tremendous oath that he could not make the b-s wear clothes; and that he had two months ago given out their summer suits, which they tore to pieces in a few days to avoid the trouble, of wearing them. We have here some particulars respecting a kind of small ant which infests the houses. They are said to have an acid taste, and as they are frequently found among victuals in great quantities, many people eat them rather than be at the trouble of brushing them away.

From these wondrous atchievements we pass to another part of the work, bordering somewhat upon the extraordinary, but which we do not pretend utterly to discredit. So lately as in 1804, gold mines are said to have been discovered in the Northern Carolina, which promise great benefit to the proprietors. The first portions of this precious metal were found on the property of a native of Hesse Cassel, Mr. John Mead, (which we may be allowed to observe is a most singular German name). The children of this person gathered it in a creek running through his land in the daily quantity of an hundred pennyweights, and Mr. Mead himself found a lump of ore weighing no less than twenty-eight pounds, and worth fourteen hundred pounds sterling. On the faith of finding greater treasures near the same place a company was formed for exploring the country, and 35,000 acres were purchased in the vicinity. Considerable quantities of gold were found chiefly in the beds of rivulets. It is probable that the hills from which these rivulets descend contain veins of this precious metal. The sand of the streams has been found to yield by amalgamation with quicksilver great quantities of gold. A mine belonging to a Mrs. Parker is related to have been discovered in a very singular manner. This lady, whose demesnes lay in the vicinity of the gold, country, had some company who were drinking tea with her, to whom she said jocularly, I wish, gentlemen, any of you could for a gold mine in my land. One of the party instantly replied, I will go, madam, and search for you.' He went, and speedily returned with a fine specimen, and since that time a great deal more has been procured.

All this sounds very fine, and men are apt to be dazzled with the sight of gold thus at their very feet,aud requiring only to be lifted. It appears clearly however that these portions

brought down by the mountain streams will probably be speedily exhausted, as they have been slowly accumulated; after which the labour of gathering may extinguish the profit of the Carolina gold lands, and that without any great loss to the country. Of all productions of the earth, the precious metals have been found by experience to contribute the least to increase national wealth or national strength. Gold is by no means of rare occurrence. It was computed by Bergmann that it is more generally diffused than any metal, iron only excepted. Even at this day we have been credibly informed that near Leadhills in Scotland gold is to be found among the sands of the brooks, though in small quantities, and that a labourer by gathering it may gaiu about ninepence a day. But as he can get more by working at other employments, recourse is seldom had to that of gold seeking. And somewhat similar, it is not impossible, may be the fate of the mines of Carolina.

Upon the whole,this work is not without its merits. It is very large, very pretty, and has prints in it, and so far must suit the public taste of the day. It shows very little skill in composition, and none at all in arrangement. It is infected from one end to the other with a querulous discontent, which distorts every object and tinges the performance throughout. The author appears to have no great talent for profound remark, and the chief merit of his book consists in presenting to us another view of the manners of the Anglo-Americans and the appearances of their country. If this be faithfully done, it would be unreasonable to deny some share of praise to the author; though we must be permitted to repeat the expres sion of the writer of the observations on Mr. Carr's Stranger in Ireland, an author who appears to have a decided hatred to quarto volumes of travels, with the title of 'Stranger,' Who is this Charles William Jansen, Esq. ?

ART. VI.-Hours of Idleness, a Series of Poems, original and translated. By George Gordon, Lord Byron, a Minor. 12mo. 6s. Longman, &c.

THE opinion of Dr. Johnson on the poems of a noble relation of mine, "That, when a man of rank appeared in the character of an author, his merit should be handsomely acknowledged," can have little weight with verbal, and still less with periodical censors; but, were it otherwise, I should be loth to avail myself of the privilege, and would rather incur the bitterest censure of anonymous criticism, than triumph in honours granted solely to a title.' Pref. p. ix.

Miserum est aliorum incumbere Famæ.

The favour which this author disclaims we willingly with hold; still more readily do we deny him that which youth is apt to expect. From a spirit of just pride, he asks for his book no allowances; from our opinion of its real merit, we offer it none.

The preface announces a collection of trifles, the motley production of idle, gay, and melancholy hours. To waste pages of unmeaning criticism on so unambitions a work, would but expose our want of judgment, and provoke the contempt of its author. The few specimens which we shall give, require no praise of ours. Their own worth is sufficient to support them; and no reader will be inclined to doubt our assertion that the rest of the book contains as ample evidence of a correct taste, a warm imagination, and a feeling heart, as exists in the little extracts before him.

On leaving Newstead Abbey.

Thro' thy battlements, Newstead, the hollow winds whistle;
Thou, the hall of my fathers, art gone to decay;
In thy once smiling garden, the hemlock and thistle
Have choaked up the rose which late bloom'd in the

way.

Of the mail-cover'd Barons, who proudly to battle,
Led their vassals from Europe to Palestine's plain,
The escutcheon and shield, which with ev'ry blest rattle,
Are the only sad vestiges now that remain.

No more doth old Robert, with harp-stringing numbers,
Raise a flame in the breast for the war-laureli'd wreath,
Near Askalon's towers, John of Horiston slumbers;
Unnerv'd is the hand of the minstrel by death.

Paul and Hubert too sleep, in the valley of Cressy,
For the safety of Edward and England they fell.
My fathers! the tears of your country redress you;
How you fought, how you died, still her annals can tell.

On Marston, with Rupert, 'gainst traitors contending.
Four brothers enrich'd, with their blood, the bleak field;
For the rights of a monarch, their country defending,
Till death their attachment to royalty seal'd.

Shades of heroes, farewell! your descendant, departing
From the seat of his ancestors, bids you adieu!
Abroad, or at home, your remembrance imparting
New courage, he'll think upon glory, and you.

• Though a tear dim his eye, at this sad separation,
'Tis nature, not fear, that excites his regret ;
Far distant he goes, with the same emulation,
The fame of his fathers he ne'er can forget.

'That fame, and that memory, still will he cherish,
He vows that he ne'er will disgrace your renown;
Like you will he live, or like you will he perish;

When decay'd, may he mingle his dust with your own." The history of this venerable ruin, connected with that of many of its old possessors, the author's ancestors, deserves, and obtains, the honour of another poem of greater length and of more correctness (being probably composed at a later period) than the preceding. The conclusion affected us in a very peculiar manner; and while we warmly. entered into the generous and noble sentiments which inspired the writer, we could not but hail, with something of prophetic rapture, the hope conveyed in the closing stanza. Newstead! what saddening change of scene is thine! Thy yawning arch betokens slow decay;

The last and youngest of a noble line

Now holds thy mouldering turrets in his sway.

• Deserted now, he scans thy grey-worn towers;
Thy vaults, where dead of feudal ages sleep;
Thy cloisters, pervious to the wintry showers;
These, these, he views, and views them but to weep.

'Yet are his tears, no emblems of regret-
Cherish'd affection only bids them flow;
Pride, Hope, and Love, forbid him to forget,
But warm his bosom with empassion'd glow.

'Yet he prefers thee to the gilded domes,
Or gewgaw grottos, of the vainly great:
Yet lingers 'mid thy damp and mossy tombs,
Nor breathes a murmur 'gainst the will of fate.

"Haply thy Sun, emerging, yet, may shine,
Thee to irradiate, with meridian ray:

Fortune may smile upon a future line,

And Heaven restore an ever cloudless day? ·

No man was ever a poet at nineteen, without being a lover also; and Lord Byron's heart, if we may judge of it from his verses, is steeled against none of the warm and tender impressions of nature. Of the amatory poems in this collection, many are extremely pleasing, all are easy CRIT. REV. Vol. 12. September, 1807.

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