tween the Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained. genius, in his second effort, appeared not less than

'The excess of glory obscured.'

Milton's

In the second part of Bunyan's Work, we readily recognise, and are pleased to follow, the footsteps of that original genius, which has so delighted us in the first. Yet we feel that the region is inferior; there is more familiarity and humor, but less poetry, and though there is the same vigorous delineation of character, the allegory is imperfect. We doubt if our readers. ever happened on a more amusing account of a courtship than the following, which took place while the parties were at the House of the Interpreter.

Now, by that these Pilgrims had been at this place a week, Mercy had a visiter, that pretended some good will unto her, and his name was Mr. Brisk, a man of some breeding, but a man that stuck very close to the world. So he came once or twice, or more, to Mercy, and offered love unto her. Now Mercy was of a fair countenance, and therefore the more alluring. Her mind also was to be always busying of herself in doing; for when she had nothing to do for herself, she would be making of hose and garments for others, and would bestow them upon them that had need. And Mr. Brisk, not knowing where or how she disposed of what she made, seemed to be greatly taken, for that he found her never idle. I will warrant her a good housewife, quoth he to himself.

Mercy then revealed the business to the maidens that were of the house, and inquired of them concerning him, for they did know him better than she. So they told her that he was a very busy young man, and one that pretended to religion; but was, as they feared, a stranger to the power of that which is good.

Nay, then, said Mercy, I will look no more on him; for I purpose never to have a clog to my soul.

Prudence then replied that there needed no great matter of discouragement to be given him; her continuing so as she had begun to do for the poor, would quickly cool his courage.

So the next time he comes, he finds her at her old work, amaking of things for the poor. Then said he, What! always at it? Yes, said she, either for myself or others. And what canst thee earn a-day? quoth he. I do these things, said she,' that I may be rich in good works, laying a good foundation for the time to come, that I may lay hold on eternal life.' Why, pr'ythee, what doest thou with them? said he. Clothe the naked, said she.

With that his countenance fell. So he forbore to come at her again; and when he was asked the reason why, he said "that Mercy was a pretty lass, but troubled with ill conditions."'

Southey has scarcely done justice to Bunyan's rhymes, in quoting the doggerel which he wrote beneath the plates in the Book of Martyrs. Some snatches of melody in the second part of the Pilgrimage show the true poet.

'Christiana thought she heard, in a grove a little way off on the right hand, a most curious melodious note, with words much like these:

Through all my life thy favor is

So frankly showed to me,
That in thy house forevermore
My dwelling place shall be.

And, listening still, she thought she heard another answer it, saying,

For why? the Lord our God is good;

His mercy is forever sure;

His truth at all times firmly stood,

And shall from age to age endure.

Prudence told her they were the country birds; ' also they make the woods, and groves, and solitary places, places desirous to be in.'

Now as they were going along and talking, they espied a boy feeding his father's sheep. The boy was in very mean clothes, but of a fresh and well-favored countenance, and as he sat by himself he sung. Hark! said Mr. Great-heart, to what the shepherd's boy saith. So they hearkened, and he said,

He that is down needs fear no fall;

He that is low no pride;

He that is humble ever shall

Have God to be his guide.

I am content with what I have,
Little be it or much;

And, Lord, contentment still I crave,

Because thou savest such.

Fullness to such a burden is

That go on Pilgrimage:

Here bitter, and hereafter bliss,
Is best from age to age.

Then said their guide, do you hear him? I will dare to say, this boy lives a merrier life, and wears more of that herb called Heart's-ease in his bosom, than he that is clad in silk and velvet!'

Perhaps no other work could be named, which, admired by cultivated minds, has had at the same time such an ameliorating effect on the lower classes in society, as the Pilgrim's Progress. It is a book so full of native good sense, that no mind can read it without gaining in wisdom and vigor of judgment. What an amazing effect it must have produced in this way, on the mass of common minds brought under its power! We cannot compute the good it has thus accomplished on earth. It is one of the books, that by being connected with the dearest associations of childhood, always retains its hold on the heart, and exerts a double influence, when, at a graver age, and less under the despotism given to imagination in childhood, we read it with a serene and thoughtful perception of its meaning. How many children have become better citizens of the world through life, from the perusal of this book, almost in infancy! And how many, through its instrumentality, may have been fitted after life to live forever! The Christian Warfare is here arrayed in the glow of imagination to make it attractive. How many Pilgrims, in hours when perseverance was almost exhausted, and patience was yielding, and clouds and darkness were gathering, have felt a sudden return of animation and courage, from the remembrance of Christian's severe conflicts, and his glorious entrance at last through the gates into the city!

As the work draws to its conclusion, the Poet's soul seems to expand with the glory of the subject. The description of Christian's and Hopeful's entrance up through the regions of the air into the Celestial City, preceded by the touching account of their passing the River of Death, though composed of the simplest materials, and depicted in the simplest language, with Scripture imagery almost exclusively, constitutes one of the finest passages in English literature. The Shining Ones, and the beauty and glory of their conversation; the Angels and their melodious notes; the Pilgrims among them, ' in Heaven as it were before they came at it; the city itself in view, and all the bells ringing for joy of their welcome; the warm and joyful thoughts they had about their own dwelling there with such company, and that forever and ever;' the letters of gold written over the gate; the transfiguration of the men as they entered, and the raiment put on them, that shone like gold; the harps and crowns given them, the harps to praise withal, and the crowns in token of honor;' the bells in the ⚫ city ringing again for joy; the shout of welcome, Enter Ye

INTO THE JOY OF OUR LORD;' the men themselves singing with a loud voice, BLESSING AND HONOR AND GLORY AND POWER BE UNTO HIM THAT SITTETH UPON THE THRONE, AND UNTO THE LAMB, FOREVER AND EVER!

'Now just as the gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after them, and behold, the city shone like the sun; the streets also were paved with gold, and in them walked many men, with crowns upon their heads, palms in their hands, and golden harps to sing praises withal. There were also of them that had wings; and they answered one another without intermission, saying, 'Holy, holy, holy is the Lord!' And after that they shut up the gates; which, when I had seen, I wished myself among them.'

That CITY! The genius of Martin fails to delineate its architectural splendors. Yet his is a magnificent engraving. Those mighty domes, piles far-stretching into dimness, city after city sinking at length into indistinguishable splendor, and lost in light!

-We stand and gaze

On those bright steps, that Heavenward raise
Their practicable way.

Come forth, ye drooping old men, look abroad,
And see to what fair countries ye are bound!

In thinking of the Pilgrim's Progress, and of Bunyan its author; of his labors and sufferings, his sins, repentance, and forgiveness; of the wave of happiness he has set in motion to roll on through time, and not be lost, but grow deeper and broader as it swells into the Ocean of Eternity; and of the overruling Providence so remarkably exhibited in his life, we wish our readers to apply the remark of one, whose writings are a treasure of philosophical and spiritual wisdom, Henry More.

'The whole plot of the world being contrived by Infinite wisdom and goodness, we cannot but surmise that the most sad representations are but a show, but the delight real to such as are not wicked and impious; and that what the ignorant call evil in this Universe, is but as a shadowy stroke in a fair picture, or the mournful notes in music, by which the beauty of the one is more lively and express, and the melody of the other more · pleasing and melting.*

In the Pilgrim's Progress, there is a charming passage,

* Immortality of the Soul. Book 3. chap. 15. Sec. 9.

descriptive of the Pilgrim's entertainment in the Palace Beautiful, which was thus: The Pilgrim they laid in a large upper chamber, whose window opened towards the sun-rising; the name of the chamber was Peace; where he slept till break of day, and then he awoke and sang.'-A great and thoughtful Poet, who loves the flower as his own child, and sees a beauty in the ragged bur,' has written a poem, with this sentence as its motto, which he has entitled " Daybreak,' and which closes with the following stanza.*

How suddenly that straight and glittering shaft
Shot 'thwart the Earth!-In crown of living fire
Up comes the Day !-As if they, conscious, quaffed
The sunny flood, hill, forest, city, spire,

Laugh in the wakening light.-Go, vain Desire !
The dusky lights have gone; go thou thy way!
And, pining Discontent, like them, expire!

Be called my chamber, PEACE, when ends the day;
And let me with the dawn, like PILGRIM, sing and pray!

ART. VIII.-Thatcher's Indian Biography.

Indian Biography. By B. B. THATCHER, Esq. New York. J. & J. Harper. 1832.

This is a very interesting chapter in the history of man; and no one will read this work, without acknowledging that the subject has fallen into the right hands. There is much to awaken interest and sympathy in the character of this unfortunate race, who, with manners and habits essentially savage, exhibited some traits of refined and elevated feeling, and who, when brought into direct contrast with cultivated men, were, in some respects, able to put civilization to shame. For such a people, once great and powerful, to pass away from the soil possessed by them and their fathers; for those, who once made others tremble, to dwindle away to weak and helpless remnants, scattered here and there upon the face of a country, changed in such a manner, as to make their destruction sure, and whose only trust is in the protection of persons, who feel most interested to oppress them, is a destiny well calculated to excite the compassion of those, whose benevolence is not limited to family or nation, but comprehends alike the Samar

* See the poem extracted entire, N. A. Review. Vol. XXXIII. p.305.