cocoa-nuts, bananas, the bread-fruit tree, yams, sweet potatoes, and turnips. They have also plenty of hogs and goats; the woods abound with a species of wild-hog, and the coasts of the island with several kinds of good fish.

Their agricultural implements are made by themselves from the iron supplied by the Bounty, which with great labour they beat out into spades, hatchets, crows, &c. This was not all. The good old man kept a regular journal, in which was entered the nature and quantity of work performed by each family, what each had received, and what was due on account. There was, it seems, besides private property, a sort of general stock out of which articles were issued on account to the several members of the community; and for mutual accommodation exchanges of one kind of provision for another were very frequent, as salt for fresh provisions, vegetables and fruit for poultry, fish, &c. also when the stores of one family were low or wholly expended, a fresh supply was raised from another, or out of the general stock, to be repaid when circumstances were more favourable;-all of which was carefully noted down in John Adams's Journal.

But what was most gratifying of all to the visitors was the simple and unaffected manner in which they returned thanks to the Almighty for the many blessings they enjoyed. They never failed to say grace before and after meals, to pray every morning at sun-rise, and they frequently repeated the Lord's Prayer and the Creed. 'It was truly pleasing,' says Captain Pipon, to see these poor people so well disposed, to listen so attentively to moral instruction, to believe in the attributes of God, and to place their reliance on divine goodness.' The day on which the two captains landed was Saturday the 17th September; but by John Adams's account it was Sunday the 18th, and they were keeping the Sabbath by making it a day of rest and of prayer. This was occasioned by the Bounty having proceeded thither by the eastern route, and our frigates having gone to the westward; and the Topaz found them right according to his own reckoning, she having also approached the island from the eastward. Every ship from Europe proceeding to Pitcairn's island round the Cape of Good Hope will find them a day later as those who approach them round Cape Horn, a day in advance, as was the case with Captain Folger and the Captains Sir T. Staines and Pipon.

The visit of the Topaz is of course, as a notable circumstance, marked down in John Adams's Journal. The first ship that appeared off the island was on the 27th December, 1795; but as she did not approach the land, they could not make out to what nation she belonged. A second appeared some time after, but did not attempt to communicate with them. A third came sufficiently near to see the natives and their habitations, but did not attempt

to

4

to send a boat on shore; which is the less surprising, considering the uniform ruggedness of the coast, the total want of shelter, and the almost constant and violent breaking of the sea against the cliffs. The good old man was anxious to know what was going on in the old world, and they had the means of gratifying his curiosity by supplying him with some magazines and modern publications. His library consisted of the books that belonged to Admiral Bligh, but the visitors had not time to inspect them.

They inquired particularly after Fletcher Christian. This illfated young man, it seems, was never happy after the rash and inconsiderate step which he had taken; he became sullen and morose, and practised the very same kind of conduct towards his companions in guilt which he and they so loudly complained against in their late commander. Disappointed in his expectations at Otaheite, and the Friendly islands, and most probably dreading a discovery, this deluded youth committed himself and his remaining confederates to the mere chance of being cast upon some desert island, and chance threw them on that of Pitcairn. Finding no anchorage near it, he ran the ship upon the rocks, cleared her of the live stock and other articles which they had been supplied with at Otaheite, when he set her on fire, that no trace of inhabitants might be visible, and all hope of escape cut off from himself and his wretched followers. He soon however disgusted both his own countrymen and the Otaheitans, by his oppressive and tyrannical conduct; they divided into parties, and disputes and affrays and murders were the consequence. His Otaheitan wife died within a twelvemonth from their landing, after which he car ried off one that belonged to an Otaheitan man, who watched for an opportunity of taking his revenge, and shot him dead while digging in his own field. Thus terminated the miserable existence of this deluded young man, who was neither deficient in ta lent nor energy, nor in connections, and who might have risen in the service, and become an ornament to his profession.

John Adams declared, as it was natural enough he should do, bis abhorrence of the crime in which he was implicated, and said that he was sick at the time in his hammock; this, we understand, is not true, though he was not, particularly active in the mutiny: he expressed the utmost willingness to surrender himself and be taken to England; indeed he rather seemned to have an inclination to revisit his native country, but the young men and women flocked round him, and with tears and entreaties begged that their father and protector might not be taken from them, for without him they must all perish. It would have been an act of the greatest inhumanity to remove him from the island; and it is hardly necessary to add that Sir Thomas Staines lent a willing ear to their entreaties, thinking, no doubt, as we feel strongly disposed to think, that if he were

even among the most guilty, his care and success in instilling religious and moral principles into the minds of this young and interesting society, have, in a great degree, redeemed his former crimes. This island is about six miles long by three broad, covered with wood, and the soil of course very rich situated under the parallel of 25 S. latitude, and in the midst of such a wide expanse of ocean, the climate must be fine, and admirably adapted for the reception of all the vegetable productions of every part of the habitable globe. Small, therefore, as Pitcairn's Island may appear, there can be little doubt that it is capable of supporting many inhabitants; and the present stock being of so good a description, we trust they will not be neglected. In the course of time the patriarch must go hence; and we think it would be exceedingly desirable that the British nation should provide for such an event by sending out, not an ignorant and idle evangelical missionary, but some zealous and intelligent instructor, together with a few persons capable of teaching the useful trades or professions. On Pitcairn's island there are better materials to work upon than missionaries have yet been so fortunate as to meet with, and the best results may reasonably be expected. Something we are bound to do for these blameless and interesting people. The arfictes recommended by Captain Pipon appear to be highly proper-cooking utensils, implements of agriculture, maize or the Indian corn, the orange tree from Valparaiso, a most grateful fruit in a warm climate, and not known in the Pacific islands; and that root of plenty, (not of poverty, as a wretched scribbler has called it,) the potatoe; bibles, prayer-books, and a proper selection of other books, with paper, and other implements of writing. The visitors supplied them with some tools, kettles, and other articles, such as the high surf would permit them to land, but to no great extent; many things are still wanting for their ease and comfort. The descendants of these people, by keeping up Otaheitan language, which the present race speak fluently, might be the means of civilizing the multitudes of fine people scattered over the innumerable islands of the Great Pacific. We have only to add, that Pitcairn's island seems to be so fortified by nature as to oppose an invincible barrier to an invading enemy; there is no spot apparently where a boat can land with safety, and, per haps, not more than one where it can land at all; an everlasting swell of the ocean rolls in on every side, and breaks into foam against its rocky and iron-bound shores.

the

O happy people! happy in your sequestered state! and doubly happy to have escaped a visit from Captain Porter of the United States frigate Essex! May no civilized barbarian lay waste your peaceful abodes; no hoary proficient in swinish sensuality rob you of that innocence and simplicity which it is peculiarly your present lot to enjoy!

ART. V. The History of Fiction: being a Critical Account of the most celebrated Prose Works of Fiction from the earliest Greek Romances to the Novels of the present Age. By John Dunlop. 3 vols. Post 8vo. Edinburgh. 1814.

M much good sense and modesty.

R. DUNLOP apologizes for the defects of his work with

To some of my readers I may appear, perhaps, to have dwelt too shortly on some topics, and to have bestowed a disproportionate attention on others; nor is it improbable that in a work of such extent and variety omissions may have occurred of what ought not to have been neglected. Such defects were inseparable from an inquiry of this description, and must have, in some degree, existed even if I could have bestowed on it undivided attention, and if, instead of a relaxation, it had been my sole employment. I shall consider myself, however, as having effected much if I turn to this subject the attention of other writers, whose opportunities of doing justice to it are more favourable than my own. A work, indeed, of the kind I have undertaken, is not of a nature to be perfected by a single individual, and at a first attempt, but must be the result of successive investigations. By the assistance of preceding researches on the same subject, the labour of the future inquirer will be abridged, and he will thus be enabled to correct the mistakes, and supply the deficiencies of those who have gone before him.'-vol. iii. p. 404.

However prepossessed we may be in favour of a writer who thus expresses himself, we must be explicit. His talents (and they are far from inconsiderable) are not combined with the acquirements which alone can render him capable of doing justice to the extensive subject he has chosen: and he has, therefore, executed a defective plan, in what we incline to think rather a superficial manner. There is no reason to wonder at this failure. The materials indispensably necessary for such a work, and the want of which no ingenuity can supply, are scattered in so many private and public libraries, that the mere preparatory collections would occupy years of laborious research. We regret, both for our sakes, and for Mr. Dunlop's, that he has not had it in his power to visit the ancient and secluded regions of romance as frequently as could be wished. In order, therefore, to furnish his readers with a description of Broceliande, and Thamelinde, and the other strange countries, whose names have vanished from our maps, he has been too often compelled to content himself with the information which he has picked up from the way-farers who have personally explored them. He has done well to trust to such travellers as Ellis, Scott, and Southey; they are good men and true:' but it unfortunately happens that many of the pilgrims to whom he has listened, cannot boast of equal intelligence and veracity; and

he

he has consequently adopted no small proportion of loose and

incorrect relation.

Mr. Dunlop begins by remarking that the taste for this species of composition seems to have been most early and most generally prevalent in Persia and other Asiatic regions, where the. nature of the climate, and the luxury of the inhabitants, conspired to promote its cultivation.'-vol. i. p. 4. We have very little confidence in the influence supposed to be exercised by climate over the moral character of mankind: we doubt whether genius of any kind actually rises or falls with the mercury in the thermometer; and at all events, we must be allowed to suggest, that a long winter's night and a blazing fire are full as congenial fo the cultivation of story-telling as the clearest atmosphere, and the warmest sunshine. After settling the original seat of fiction, he thus proceeds;

The people of Asia Minor, who possessed the fairest portion of the globe, were addicted to every species of luxury and magnificence; and having fallen under the dominion of the Persians, imbibed with the utmost avidity the amusing fables of their conquerors. The Milesians, who were a colony of Greeks, and spoke the Ionic dialect, excelled all the neighbouring nations in ingenuity, and first caught from the Persians this rage for fiction. The tales they invented, and of which the name has become so celebrated, have all perished. There is little known of them, except that they were not of a very moral tendency, and were principally written by a person of the name of Aristidis, whose stories were translated into Latin by Sisenna, the Roman historian, about the time of the civil wars of Marius and Sylla.

But though the Milesian tales have perished, of their nature some idea may be formed from the stories of Parthenius Nicenus; many of which, there is reason to believe, are extracted from these ancient fables, or at least are written in the same spirit. The tales of Nicenus are about forty in number, but appear to be mere sketches. They chiefly consist of accounts of every species of seduction, and the criminal passions of the nearest relations. The principal characters generally come to some deplorable end, though seldom proportioned to what they merited from their vices. Nicenus seems to have engrafted the Milesian tales on the mythological fables of Appollodorus and similar writers; and also to have borrowed from early historians and poets, whose productions have not descended to us. The work is inscribed to Cornelius Gallus, the Latin poet, the contemporary and friend of Virgil. Indeed, the author says that it was composed for his use, to furnish him with materials for elegies and other poems.?-vol. i. p. 4.

In my youth, says Montaigne, I did not even know the names of Launcelot of the Lake, or Huon of Bordeaux, or Amadis of Gaul, or any of the worthless books with which our youngsters waste their time. Perhaps the epithet by which Plutarch characterises the Milesian fables,' and which Mr. Dunlop seems inclined to adopt, may have been as unduly severe as that we have