For he would look particularly droll

In his "Iberian boot and " Spanish plume,"

And be the wonder of each Christian soul,

As of the birds that scare-crow and his broom.
But Gertrude, in her loveliness and bloom,

Hath many a model here, for Woman's

eye

In court, or cottage, wheresoe'er her home,
Hath a heart-spell too holy and too high
To be o'erpraised even by her worshipper, Poesy.

There's one in the next field-of sweet sixteen-
Singing and summoning thoughts of beauty born
In heaven, with her jacket of light green,

"Love darting eyes, and tresses like the morn,"
Without a shoe or stocking, hoeing corn.
Whether, like Gertrude, she oft wanders there
With Shakspeare's volume in her bosom borne,
I think is doubtful. Of the poet-player

The maiden knows no more than Cobbett or Voltaire.

There is a woman, widowed, gray, and old,
Who tells you where the foot of Battle stept
Upon their day of massacre. She told
Its tale, and pointed to the spot, and wept,
Whereon her father and five brothers slept,

Shroudless, the bright-dreamed slumbers of the brave,
When all the land a funeral mourning kept.
And there wild laurels, planted on the grave

By Nature's hand, in air their pale red blossoms wave.

And on the margin of yon orchard hill

Are marks where time-worn battlements have been,

And in the tall grass traces linger still

Of "arrowy frieze and wedged ravelin.”

Five hundred of her brave that Valley green

Trod on the morn, in soldier-spirit gay,

But twenty lived to tell the noon-day scene;
And where are now the twenty? Passed away.

Has Death no triumph-hours, save on the battle day?

June, 1821.

F. G. H.

WEEP NOT FOR THE YOUTHFUL DEAD.

WEEP not for the youthful dead,

Resting in their peaceful bed!

They are happier than we,

Howsoever blest we be.

They have left a doubtful scene,
While their hearts were young and green,

Ere the stain of guilt was deep;—
Wherefore, wherefore do ye weep?

They have never known the stings,
Which dissevered friendship brings;
Envy, Hatred, Passion, Pride,
All lie buried at their side.

Far across the shipwreck foam,
They have found a peaceful home,
Where the blessed spirits keep ;—
Wherefore, wherefore should ye weep?

"T is, ye say, a heavy pain,
Preying on the heart in vain,

Thus to see the green bud froze,
When just opening to a rose.

Yet shall Consolation come,
Stooping from her starry home,
Bringing dew upon her wings,
From the deep, eternal springs.

He had just begun to climb
Up the weary mount of Time;
Weep not his untimely end,
If he sunk, 't was to ascend.

She was young, and soft, and fair,

So her sister seraphs are!

Wherefore, then, should Sorrow bow?

She is with the seraphs now.

Happy they who die in youth,
Ere the fountain springs of truth
Have been sullied by the rains,
Leaving dark and deadly stains.

Their renown is with the brave,
All their faults are in the grave,
And the flowers, that round them bloom,

Chase the darkness,-hide the gloom.

CRITICAL NOTICES.

New England's Memorial, By NATHANIEL Morton, Secretary to the Court, for the Jurisdiction of New-Plimouth. Fifth Edition. Containing, besides the Original Work, and the Supplement annexed to the Second Edition, Large Additious, in Marginal Notes, and an Appendix; with a Lithographic Copy of an Ancient Map. By JOHN DAVIS, Fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, and Member of the Massachusetts Historical Society. 8vo. Boston. 1826.

WE Congratulate the public on the appearance of this volume. The original work was deservedly held in high estimation; but it was too concise to satisfy the wishes of the reader. It now appears in a respectable form, and with very valuable improvements. It happily fell into good hands. The editor was familiar with the early historical writers of New England, and has judiciously availed himself of their aid, to illustrate the brief Memorial. Had more original matter been derived from unpublished manuscripts, it would have heightened the value of this improved edition. What the editor says of the former Continuation of Morton, may, by some readers, be thought applicable to his own; "A more copious supplement might have been expected, considering the ample materials in the keeping of Mr. Cotton." We are thankful, however, for so much. The Appendix to this edition contains many valuable documents, which, together with the Marginal Notes, constitute nearly one half of the volume. The Notes might possibly have been enriched from MSS. to which the editor had access. Whether he ever saw the Collections of the late Rev. Dr. Fobes, of Raynham, made, as we long ago understood, for the express purpose of composing a history of the Colony of Plymouth, we do not know. They are not quoted; and we therefore conclude they were not seen. The Hinckley MSS. deposited in the library of the Massachusetts Historical Society, are very sparingly used. More from this source were desirable. For this deficiency, if it be one, no inconsiderable compensation is found in what the editor has collected from well authenticated tradition, from oral testimony, and from the mines of a fraternal antiquary of Plymouth. To the editor himself, also, we owe much for his own illustrations of places and persons, of manners and customs, pertaining to the Old Colony. Born in Plymouth, connected with descendants of the Pilgrims, and conversant with the most intelligent inhabitants, he has had the best

opportunities and means of obtaining a thorough knowledge of his subject. Nor, while adverting to his qualifications for the office which he undertook, may we omit the notice of his antiquarian taste, his diligent research, his early entrance upon this work, and his resolute perseverance to its completion.

The editor's biographical illustrations of Morton, author of the Memorial, and of Cotton, its continuator, of Robinson, Brewster, Bradford, Alden, and other primitive worthies, are pertinent and valuable. His candor is worthy of great commendation; it is worthy of a philosopher and a Christian. He is not blind to the failings of our forefathers; but he never exaggerates them. He looks back through the vista of two hundred years, and sees men and things as they were. While he discerns defects in the civil and ecclesiastical polity of the first age, he is not censorious of either. He was too well acquainted with the Fathers of New England, to represent them otherwise than as eminent for wisdom and virtue, for patriotism and piety. Their faults, he knew, were, for the most part, the faults of the age; their virtues, honorable to any age, and worthy of the imitation of their posterity. To them, he knew, we are indebted, under Divine Providence, for our free governments, for our well-organized churches, for our literary institutions, and for the love of liberty and learning, which has been transfused into the blood of their descendants. He appears as a judge, weighing the evidence, and solicitous to give an impartial judgment; rather than as an advocate, laboring to make the worst of the case, substituting suspicions for facts, and keeping out of sight the principal testimony. Examples of a candid review of characters and transactions are presented in the editor's remarks upon Standish, Dudley, Cotton Mather, and others, and upon the treatment of the Quakers, and of Miantonomoh, the Sagamore of the Narragansets.

We select the last example, because it is in this case that the fathers have been sometimes adjudged without a hearing, and condemned without mercy. In the war made by Miantonomoh upon the Mohegans, the Naraganset sagamore was defeated and taken prisoner. Uncas, sagamore of the Mohegans, applied to the Commissioners of the United Colonies for advice how to proceed against him. It appears from the Records of the Commissioners, and from Winthrop's Journal, that Miantonomoh, in coming suddenly upon Uncas, "with nine hundred or a thousand men," without denouncing war or complaining to the English, had violated an agreement previously made between them at Hartford; that he had murdered one of Uncas's men, whom he