would afford some compensation for the injuries we have inflicted, and let in a ray of hope on the benighted mind. To say that no effectual provision has been made for this purpose, is to assert the smallest part of the truth. The religious instruction of the negroes has not only been neglected, but such regulations introduced, as renders it nearly impracticable. The attempts of this sort, which have been made, have not resulted from any legislative enactment, but merely from the zeal of private individuals, exposed for the most part to the utmost opposition and obloquy; nor will it admit of a doubt, that but for the seasonable interference of the Government at home, all such proceedings would long since have been suppressed. The Colonial Legislatures have displayed nearly as much aversion to the religious instruction of the slaves, as to the extension of their civil immunities; and, judging from their conduct, we should be tempted to infer, they were no less careful to exclude them from the hope of heaven, than from happiness on earth.

It would be natural to suppose, such a system could have few charms for the spectator; that the presence of such a mass of degradation and misery would be a source of continual annoyance, and that no exertion would be spared, by those who have it most in their and lighten its horrors. On the conpower, to diminish its pressure trary, the West India Colonists view it with the utmost complacency; in their eyes it seems to be a most finished specimen of social order; a masterpiece of policy; the most precious legacy bequeathed them. by their ancestors, which they are bound to maintain inviolate in every part, to defend at the greatest risk, and to transmit unimpaired to future generations. They anticipate with the utmost confidence the perpetual duration of the system, and reprobate every measure which has the remotest tendency to endanger its existence, as the offspring of indescribable folly and wickedness. To such a degree are their moral perceptions vitiated, that they really believe they have a prescriptive right to be guilty of injustice, to trample on the image of their Maker, to erase his superscription, and to treat that portion of their species which fortune has subjected to their power, as mere beasts of burden, divested of the essential characteristics of humanity. In this instance, impious speculations have been resorted to in palliation of practical enormities; nor have there been wanting those who avow their persuasion that the negro is more nearly allied to the oran-outang, than to the human kind.

*

*

After witnessing such an obstinate adherence to a system, equally injurious to the Negroes and to themselves-after every suggestion of improvement has been indignantly rejected, and not a single effort made in behalf of the slave population, if we except a few verbal enactments, passed with no other view, it is evident from the event, than to elude inquiry and silence complaint-it would be more than vain, it would be preposterous, to look for any substantial redress from Colonial Legislators. They are the aggressors, they are the authors of the evils we complain of; and how can it be expected they should

legislate against themselves? To leave the slaves in their hands, what is it less than to recommend the lamb to the protection of the wolf?'

It is quite obvious, then, that no melioration of the moral and intellectual condition of the slave would be politic, safe, or we were going to say humane, that had not for its ultimate object, to prepare him for a participation of civil and moral rights. Religion, which seals and sanctifies all the legitimate relations of society, can have no other effect on the victim of oppression, avarice, and lust, than to strengthen his abhorrence of his tyrant. No sooner does the female negro become susceptible of moral sentiments,-of shame, virtuous love, or maternal tenderness,-if it is conceivable, that a human creature with so dark a skin can have such feelings-than she becomes disqualified for the service of her employer.

We have no roon: at present to pursue this view of the subject, but earnestly commend the more eloquent statements contained in this Address to the attention of our readers.

We cannot,' says the Writer in conclusion, suppose for a moment that Government will suffer the extraordinary conduct recently displayed by the local authorities of Jamaica, to have any influence in preventing its adoption of such measures for the amelioration of the present system, as justice and humanity may dictate. To be bearded and insulted by persons in their situation, would be mortifying enough; if the ridicule attached to their proceedings, did not interfere with more serious emotions. To say that Government has nothing to fear from the West India Islands would be scarcely correct, for we have much to fear; but it is not from their strength, but their weakness, which is such, that were we to withdraw our support, they would fall like ripe fruit, into the lap of the first invader. They are so much accustomed, it seems, to proceed by the method of intimidation, as to forget their absolute dependence on Great Britain for protection, as well from domestic, as from foreign dangers; nor could we wish them a more cruel revenge, than to leave them to their own resources. If by adopting such regulations as the humanity and wisdom of Parliament shall prescribe, they can make it clearly appear that their pecuniary interests are affected (which in our opinion will be impossible) let them by all means receive a suitable compensation; but let us be permitted, at the same time, to express our hope, that Government will not be diverted from its course by the growling of a tiger, which refuses to quit its prey.

The interference then of an enlightened public, to circulate information, to strengthen the hands and second the movements of Government, in this most just enterprise, is imperiously demanded. We cannot sit still year after year, silent spectators of the most enormous oppression, exercised within the limits of the British dominions, without partaking of its guilt. We cannot remain silent and inactive,

without forgetting who we are, and what we have done; that we are the country which, after a tedious struggle with a host of prejudices arrayed in support of opulent oppression, have overthrown the Slave Trade, torn it up by the roots, and branded in the eyes of all nations the sale of human flesh, as the most atrocious of social crimes. We must forget that we are the countrymen of Granville Sharp, who by incredible exertions succeeded at length in purifying the British soil from this its foulest pollution, and rendered it for ever impossible for a slave to breathe its air. We must sever ourselves from all alliance of spirit with a Wilberforce and a Clarkson, who looked forward to the final emancipation of the Negro race as the consummation of their labours, and were sustained in their arduous contest, by the joy which that prospect inspired. We must lose sight of still more awful considerations, and forget our great Original, "who hath formed of one blood all nations of men, to dwell on all the face of the earth.”

pp. 26-8. It would be paying our readers an ill compliment, to suppose it necessary to inform them, that this Address is from the pen of Mr. Hall.

A MAN may

Art. XI. Prose by a Poet. 2 vols. 8vo. Price 12s. London, 1824. be a poet all but we know not what-the art of writing poetry. This sentence is not quite the truism that it may seem to be, though we have not finished it to our satisfaction. It contains the sum and substance of a long dissertation which has been passing through our thoughts, but which we are unwilling to inflict upon our readers. To come at once to exempli gratia; there is Washington Irving,—a man who looks like a poet, feels like one, writes like one, and yet, if he can indite verses, he keeps his secret; and we should not expect that his verse would rise at all above the improved standard of gentlemanly mediocrity. The present Writer does not at all write like Geoffrey Crayon; he has not his Flemish humour, or his power of picturesque description; nor does he aim at writing like him. But yet, his lucubrations naturally reminded us of the "Sketch-book," being a work of the same class. Moreover, this Poet's prose' bears equal marks of being written by one who unites in himself all the elements of the poetical character-the sensibility, the love of nature, the observant eye, the play of fancy; and yet, according to his own modest account, he graduates between a luminary of 'the third and one of the sixth magnitude, as the muse of fire burns bright or dim within him.' He has given us, however, in these volumes, some specimens of no mean poetical ability; but his readers will say, we like his prose better. Every body says the same of Addison, of Tickell, of Johnson, of Smollett, of Swift,-of some of our best prose writers; of Goldsmith

himself, for, though he has written one exquisite poem, his Vicar of Wakefield is the more delightful production of the two. Cowper is the most remarkable instance, perhaps, of a. poet of no mean order and eminent originality, excelling not less in chaste, perspicuous, correct, and elegant prose. These volumes have more frequently reminded us of the playful spirit which appears in his letters and minor pieces, combined, too, with the sterling qualities of heart and mind which give a moral value to his most trifling productions, than of any other writer. Among the poets of the day, the one on whom Cowper's mantle would seem to have fallen, is Montgomery.--Can it be he?

The Contents of these volumes are as follows:-Pen, Ink, and Paper; Morna; Old Women; Life of a Flower, by Itself; Juvenile Delinquency; an Old English Year; the Moon and Stars, a Fable; Common Place; a Six Miles Tour; a Tale without a Name; a Modest Confession; the Acorn, an apologue; a Dialogue of the Alphabet; a Scene not to be found in any Play; Mutability; Extracts from my Journal at Scarborough; the Voyage of the Blind; an Apocryphal Chapter in the History of England; a Forenoon at Harrowgate; an African Valley; the Last Day; Postscript.

We shall leave our readers to make what they can of this bill of fare, having room only for a short extract.

THE MOON AND STARS.

On the fourth day of Creation, when the sun, after a glorious but solitary course, went down in the evening, and darkness began to gather over the face of the uninhabited globe, already arrayed in exuberance of vegetation, and prepared by the diversity of land and water for the abode of uncreated animals and man,—a star, single and beautiful, stept forth into the firmament, Trembling with wonder and delight in new-found existence, she looked abroad, and beheld nothing in heaven or on earth resembling herself. But she was not long alone: now one, then another, here a third, and there a fourth, resplendent companion had joined her, till, light after light stealing through the gloom, in the lapse of an hour, the whole hemisphere was brilliantly bespangled.

The planets and stars, with a superb comet flaming in the zenith, for a while contemplated themselves and each other; and every one, from the largest to the least, was so perfectly well pleased with himself, that he imagined the rest only partakers of his felicity,he being the central luminary of his own universe, and all the host of heaven beside displayed around him in graduated splendour. Nor were any undeceived with regard to themselves, though all saw their associates in their real situations and relative proportions, self-knowledge being the last knowledge acquired either in the sky or below it, till, bending over the ocean in their turns, they dis. covered what they imagined, at first, to be a new heaven, peopled

with beings of their own species; but when they perceived further that no sooner had any one of their company touched the horizon than he instantly disappeared, they then recognized themselves in their individual forms, reflected beneath according to their places and configurations above, from seeing others whom they previously knew, reflected in like manner. By an attentive but mournful selfexamination in that mirror, they slowly learned humility, but every one learned it only for himself, none believing what others insinuated respecting their own inferiority, till they reached the western slope from whence they could identify their true images in the nether element. Nor was this very surprising,-stars being only visible points, without any distinction of limbs, each was all eye, and though he could see others most correctly, he could neither see himself, nor any part of himself-till he came to reflection! The comet, however, having a long train of brightness streaming sunward, could review that, and did review it with ineffable selfcomplacency:-indeed, after all pretensions to precedence, he was at length acknowledged king of the hemisphere, if not by the universal assent, by the silent envy of all his rivals.

But the object which attracted most attention and astonishment, too, was a slender thread of light, that scarcely could be discerned through the blush of evening, and vanished soon after night-fall, as if ashamed to appear in so scanty a form, like an unfinished work of creation. It was the moon,-the first new moon ;-timidly she looked round upon the glittering multitude, that crowded through the dark serenity of space, and filled it with life and beauty. Minute indeed they seemed to her, but perfect in symmetry, and formed to shine for ever; while she was unshapen, incomplete, and evanescent. In her humility, she was glad to hide herself from their keen glances in the friendly bosom of the ocean, wishing for immediate extinction. When she was gone the stars looked one at another with inquisitive surprize, as much as to say, "What a figure!" It was so evident, that they all thought alike, and thought contemptuously of the ap parition, (though at first they almost doubted whether they should not be frightened,) that they soon began to talk freely concerning her, of course, not with audible accents, but in the language of intelligent sparkles, in which stars are accustomed to converse with telegraphic precision from one end of Heaven to the other, and which no dialect on earth so nearly resembles as the language of eyes, the only one, probably, that has survived, in its purity, not only the confusion of Babel, but the revolutions of all ages. Her crooked form, which they deemed a violation of the order of nature, and her shyness, equally unlike the frank intercourse of stars, were ridiculed and censured from pole to pole; for what good purpose such a monster could have been created, not the wisest could conjecture; yet, to tell the truth, every one, though glad to be countenanced in the affectation of scorn by the rest, had secret misgivings concerning the stranger, and envied the delicate brilliancy of her light, while she seemed but the fragment of a sunbeam,-they, indeed, knew nothing about the sun,-detached from a long line, and exquisitely bended. pp. 127-131.