On the whole, if these Devotional Verses cannot be expected to raise or extend Mr. Barton's fame among that large class of his admirers who have hitherto endured his Quakerism for the sake of his poetry, but who have little relish for hymn-writing of any kind, and this he seems to anticipate,-it will entitle him to the cordial regard of every devotional reader, to the gratitude of many, to whom his verses will be a source of spiritual instruction or solace,-to the plaudits of the good, and to a reward still higher, the approbation of Him whose praise he seeks. In this volume, we cannot but consider him as having nobly dared to risk some portion of his laurels for Christ's sake, and as coming forward to lay his talents and his fame, as a willing sacrifice, on the altar which sanctifies the gift. The honour to which he has thereby entitled himself, is of a higher and more valuable kind than even poetic fame: but he will occupy no mean rank among our sacred poets; and some of the pieces in this volume will, perhaps, obtain the widest popularity of all that he has written. We shall make room for one more extract, a soliloquy written at a time when the composition of the volume was suspended, which is in a noble strain both of poetry and of feeling.

• Once more, lov'd solace of my lonely hours,
Would I renew my intercourse with thee,
Suspended for a time-while Spring's gay flowers,
Her bursting foliage, and her songs of glee
Allured me from my task to budding bowers,

To shady lane, green copse, or blossom'd lea;-
In the fond hope, but not more fond than vain,
Their charms might lend fresh vigour to my strain.
Mistaken thought! To me shall come no more
The once blithe impulse of a vernal day;
Nor can fair nature's countless charms restore
Aught of congenial freshness to my lay;
The sanguine flush of youth's bright morn is o'er,
The fairy dreams of fancy pass'd away;-
And were they still my own, they could not lend
One living charm with thy deep truths to blend.

Not that I darkly view, or lightly prize,

The beauties and the harmonies of Spring;
Yet is there what green earth, nor laughing skies,
Nor blooming flowers, nor song of birds can bring
Over the spirit-hid from human eyes

Deep in the heart, like a far holier thing

Than outward nature's richest stores can yield,
The fount of thought and feeling is unseal'd.

And he who writes of themes which must endure

When times and seasons shall have run their course,
Whose song is TRUTH, unchangeable and sure,
If he aright would feel its truest force,
Must drink of streams unperishing and pure
Which issue from a deeper, holier source;
Looking beyond the fading things of time,
To those which are eternal and sublime,
'O! may I now, with no misgiving dread,

Resume the task of many a winter night;
Nor deem devotion's purer influence fled,
Because no inly-answering flood of light
From Spring's young glory on my soul is shed.
The just shall walk by faith, and not by sight!
And he who seeks to frame a heavenly song,
Through conscious weakness may be render'd strong.
Strong in the might and strength of Him, alone,
Whose spirit down the vale of vision swept,
What time the seer beheld around him strown
Bones dry and lifeless which in silence slept ;
These, at the word divine, His power
made known,
And on their feet a living army leapt ;
So may the spirit He vouchsafes to raise,
Revive as from the dead to sing His praise.'

Art. V. 1. Five Years' Residence in the Canadas: including a Tour through part of the United States of America, in the Year 1823. By Edward Allen Talbot, Esq. In 2 vols. 8vo. pp. 835. Price 11. 1s. London, 1824.

2. The Emigrant's Note-Book and Guide; with Recollections of Upper and Lower Canada, during the late War. By Lieut. J. C. Morgan. Small 8vo. pp. 371. London, 1824.

PERHAPS the most extraordinary aspect in which Great

Britain can be considered, is that of her colonization. An insular region, comparatively of small extent, but strong in her position and her liberal institutions, has become, through her commercial enterprise and her naval superiority, the magna mater of the most extended and flourishing colonies on the surface of the globe. In North America, though we have lost an empire, we still retain one. Extensive territories own our sway; and we own that we feel very little anxiety respecting their future destiny. Whether the striped flag or the royal standard wave over their ships and fortresses, it matters not: the great principles of civil government and religious verity have taken root in the soil, never to die. Our American

islands are a weight upon our revenue, a restraint upon our commerce, and a blot upon our fame. In Asia, our history is a tale of romance, and the very existence of our wide dominion is more like the illusions of enchantment, than the sober realities of common experience. Nations of warlike men bow to our supremacy, while numerous and well appointed armies move in implicit obedience to our bidding; and yet, withdraw but a few thousands of Englishmen, and every thing lapses at once into darkness and confusion,-a scramble among the resolute, a lottery of kingdoms and satrapies among the bold and fortunate. Nothing, clearly, but direct colonization can give stability to our magnificent but unstable empire in the East; and nothing but the temporising and inefficient system of our administration could have prevented the removal, long ago, of the absurd restrictions that inhibit the beneficial settlement of European emigrants. In Australia, a tainted and scattered population will increase, concentrate, and improve into a mighty and, ultimately, an independent nation. We have a strong holding, too, on Africa; but there are many disadvantages and more uncertainties connected with our establishment at the Cape of Good Hope, and the progress of improvement and of population must be proportionably slow.

In the mean time, circumstances which we need not specify, make it expedient for many who want comfortable elbow-room at home, to seek it abroad; and of such the attention is, of course, turned in the first instance to our own outposts and dependencies. It is with a view to this state of things, that we have made the passing references contained in the preceding paragraph, for the purpose of putting the question as to the most eligible direction in which to turn the tide of emigration. Asia, at least India, is out of consideration, since no permanent settlement can be obtained under the protection of British law, and in association with our own countrymen. Liability to expulsion by arbitrary mandata, and the impossibility of securing or enjoying real property, are very sufficient barriers against the intrusion of emigrants from England, seeking a free country, a cordial welcome, and an unincumbered soil. The Cape colony might seem to hold out strong attractions. Convenient distance, frequent and easy communica tion, the countenance and aid of Government, are advantages by no means to be overlooked; but notwithstanding all, the fate of such as have made the essay, has been too disastrous to afford much encouragement to future adventurers. Not that we think the experiment has been fairly tried. It is palpable, that much of error pervaded the whole of the proceedings, and that if this had not been the case, the notorious circum

stance of injudicious location was of itself fatal. Setting aside, then, Asia and Africa, the question seems to lie between America and New Holland-utrum horum-Canada or Botany Bay. The latter seems to be, at present, the place of fashionable resort; it is no longer a mere reservoir for the overflow of starving Irishmen and felonious cockneys, but discontented farmers and discarded clerks, decayed milliners and threadbare gentlemen, are moving off in that direction to form the higher circles of Australian society. And there are not a few who have gone forth under the influence of different and more elevated motives. Under the strongest influence of home attachment, with sentiments of heartfelt preference for all that belongs to their native land, with all its faults and all its burdens, and anxious to abide by its fortunes for weal or woe, they have yet sacrificed their own feelings to their conviction that here, nothing but privations awaited their children, while there, seem ample field and verge enough for present maintenance, and the firm foundation of future prosperity. We believe that they have done wisely, and that amid all the varieties of choice, those who have decided for New Holland and Van Diemen's Land have made the soundest election. Yetthough we more than suspect that we are wrong-we should, for ourselves, prefer Canada. Climate and soil are, we imagine, decidedly in favour of the more distant sojourn; but there's the rub'-the distance turns the scale. It is not that we should miss the Morning Chronicle at breakfast, the New Monthly at our after-dinner's lounge, or the Eclectic at our evening fire-side; but we should feel an unconquerable depression at the thought of final separation from the land of our birth, and from all that it contains of moral and intellectual attraction-from the hands that have grasped ours in cordial anity-from the minds that have met ours in keen but courteous contest-from the scenes of early life and ripened years -from the unrivalled landscape of Old England, with its bright verdure and its peculiar distinction, the waving hedge-rows which at once give it beauty, attest its high cultivation, and mark the long continuance and the frequent division of property. This would be intolerable enough even in Canada, and the zig-zag lines of piled logs that shew the demarcations of land, would be a frightful aggravation of misery; but we should be, comparatively, within hail of the white cliffs;' a few weeks would land us among our old associations, and we might reckon on a six months' holiday, now and then, without, as in the alternative, consuming twice that time in the homeward and returning passage. Not that we have any inordinate inclination to effect a lodgement in a land where you are way-laid

in your path by bears and rattlesnakes, and tormented in your chamber by the musquito and the black-fly.

Of all the creatures that disturb the peace of man and beast, the musquitoes are the most insupportable. They are your days' companions and your evenings' guests" for at least four months in the year; during which time, an inhabitant of Canada might as well hope to reverse the current of the St. Lawrence, as to secure himself a moment's relief from the insatiable stings of these unwearied tormentors. No spot, however sacred to repose, can fix a barrier to their entrance; and the reign of disquietude and pain is, during summer, absolute and universal The wolf, the bear, and the rattlesnake,-names which are sufficient to intimidate the stoutest European heart, are gentle and innoxious when compared with the musquito. If you never walk the woods without company, you will avoid all danger from the two former; and, by remaining within doors, will sufficiently secure yourself from the deadly sting of the latter. But neither your house nor your bed affords you any refuge from those long-legged destroyers of your comfort, the musquitoes. Go where you will, they will find you out; and, by continually darting their vein piercing proboscis into your legs, face, and hands, they will render your existence a burden as long as you are thus infested. You will therefore pray for the speedy removal of these mischievous insects, as for a blessing of no ordinary magnitude.'

Children suffer more, if possible, than adults, from the musquito and black-fly. Their heads and necks swell to such a degree, as to render them not only the greatest sufferers, but the most wretched spectacles of afflicted humanity.

Though the sting of the black-fly, at the moment of infliction, produces little pain, it is nevertheless equally as poisonous as that of the musquito, and, of the two, is rather more to be dreaded. The musquito, like a true warrior, disdaining assassin-like attempts, does not seek concealment for the accomplishment of his designs, but makes an open and an honourable attack at the peril of his own life, and leaves you every opportunity of self-defence; while the black-fly, like the midnight murderer, lies in wait all day, and as the night draws near, steals from his hiding place: but still afraid to meet you face to face, he seeks an ambush in your hair, and executes his dark' designs in perfect safety; for you seldom feel his bite, until after he decamps satiated with your blood. From the bite of the musquito, a white swelling, not unlike that caused by the sting of a nettle, is immediately produced; in a short time, it becomes exceedingly painful and itching, notwithstanding which, if you had only to endure a single, or a dozen bites, it would signify very little. But when your hands and arms, your face and neck, your legs and thighs, are literally covered with bites,-and that not only once a week or once a day, but every minute of your life during the months of June, July, August, and Septemher,-it signifies more than words can express.'