The sea monster he paints a horrible creature, and with the Gorgon terrors of Behemoth himself. It is evidently an imaginary phantasm. "A form without likeness, and yet comparable to the most terrible part of every frightful creature; a large head, resembling that of a lion, bearing three pair of horns; one pair upright, like that of an antelope, another pair like wild goats', two more bending backwards; its face armed all round with darts, like a porcupine; with great eyes sparkling like a flint struck with a steel; its nose like a wild horse, always snarling; the mouth of a lion and teeth of a panther, the jaws of an elephant, and the tusks of a wild boar, shouldered like a giant, with claws like an eagle, bodied and covered with shells like a rhinoceros, and the color of a crocodile." In this fertile region, Quarll meets with numberless instances of the prodigality of nature; the rarest fruits, fowls, and fishes; forests of beautiful trees, sometimes of miraculous size, one covered with its branches a whole acre; while another grew for the same extent, so closely interwoven in its branches, which seemed almost to spring from the roots, as to form an impenetrable barrier, a sort of natural picket or palisade. Monkeys were the hermit's pets, and he would sometimes excite a quarrel between two varieties, the green and grey species, to induce reflections on the folly of brawling and fighting. For invariably a third party came in and stole away the spoils for which they were contending.

A pleasant instance of our hermit's loyalty is mentioned in the introduction to the adventures by the compilers of them, in whose hands Quarll left his MSS.; which, at the same time, fixes the general date of the work. past given by the old man to Dorrington, the

At the rehealth of

George III. was drank; and an eulogium passed upon his character, to which some dissenting criticism might be of fered.

We have now endeavored to give the reader a general idea of Philip Quarll's adventures, but trust he will speedily consult that history itself to verify our conjectures in part, but more particularly for the amusement and profit of an entire perusal.

Peter Wilkins we can hardly pretend to write upon after Hunt. But we may retain a remembrance, and hazard a conjecture. It was our first play (the story dramatized) and hence can by no possibility be forgotten, as such an occasion forms an epoch in the life of every individual. We cannot think the author of Philip Quarll and Peter Wilkins are one and the same person, for with a great similarity, an element entirely original is introduced into the latter, the author of which displays a more copious invention and a more spiritual fancy than the author of the first work. Both are admirable of their kind, a class now quite extinct, and to the reproduction of which, our present race of story-tellers appear quite inadequate from a want of faith, a want of invention, a want of simplicity, and a want of exact truth and fidelity of imagination.

XIII.

WALTON'S LIVES.

"There are no colors in the fairest sky

So fair as these. The feather whence the pen
Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men,
Dropped from an Angel's wing. With moistened eye
We read of Faith and purest Charity

In Statesman, Priest, and humble citizen:
O could we copy their mild virtues, then

What joy to live, what blessedness to die!
Methinks their very names shine still and bright;
Apart, like glow-worms on a summer night,
Or lonely tapers when from far they fling
A guiding ray; or seen, like stars on high,
Satellites burning in a lucid ring

Around meek Walton's heavenly memory."

WORDSWORTH.

In the whole circle of English Literature, a volume more unique and attractive to the best class of readers cannot easily be found, than the Lives of Walton. The most enthusiastic praises of the acutest critics have conferred an enviable immortality on their admirable author, which, added to the sweet and manly character of Honest Izaak, have united to give his book a place on the shelf above that of many writers of greater reputation and more brilliant genius. On a work of such excellence and so well known, we shall not now dwell with much particularity.

Our object at present will be, to consider the principal features common to the Lives, and the personal as well as literary character of Walton himself. A certain family likeness exists between all the different heroes of Walton, and a similar mode of handling the relation of their lives. Thus all of them-Donne, Wotton, Herbert, Hooker, Sanderson-were remarkable for their early studies as well as precocity of genius: each was a liberal scholar and devoted to his calling: each was a firm and zealous churchman all of them but Wotton were divines, and he was a sort of lay preacher: they were all most fortunate in their deaths, regular and happy in their lives, even Hooker, notwithstanding his domestic trials. In their tempers and dispositions, they were men of great mildness and moderation of a charitable turn, given to hospitality and the company of their friends, liberal thinkers, inclined to innocent pleasantry, utterly devoid of cunning or deceit, sincere Christians and unpretending philanthropists. Yet with all these points in common, each was possessed of a marked individuality of character and genius. Though both of them poets and fine poets, the sentiment of Herbert is quite different from the fancy of Donne, and that again from the reflection of Wotton. Hooker and Sanderson, able on the same topics, displayed talents quite diverse; the one being more of a general philosophical inquirer, the other more of a theoretical casuist.-There can be no stronger argument for the purity and innocence of Walton's life, than the fact that these were his personal friends-companions of his choice, who thought it no want of dignity in them to associate with the simple-hearted author of the Complete Angler. The Lives are written with considerable minuteness, and are yet very general, minute in par

ticular instances, but general in the main outlines. They uniformly commence with an apology for his unfitness for the task of historical narrative, and excuses for the defects of style and manner. This was not, in all probability, an affectation, but real diffidence.

The youth and prime of Walton having been passed in the pursuit of trade and commerce, his education had been of a very miscellaneous character, picked up from desultory reading and the conversation of the divines with whom he was a great favorite, and of whom he was a decided admirer. Commencing authorship, too, late in life, he felt the clogs of business and the want of freedom in his ideas and composition. This he soon attained, and if his style never became perfect, yet it was original of its kind, and such as no art of rhetoric could teach.

Prefixed to the Lives is a biography of Walton, by Dr. Zouch, the same who wrote the life of Sir Philip Sidney. He has made a better preface of the first, than his stupid volume on the latter personage, though his passing criticisms on Donne and Fuller smack of the trained critic of the formal French school of criticism of the eighteenth century.

The profession of Walton is known to have been that of a wholesale linen-draper or Hamburgh merchant. His first initiation into trade is thought to have been in one of the shops where, in company with other industrious young men, he was placed by the munificence of Sir Thomas Gresham (the English Medici, and founder of the Royal Exchange), who had erected several in the upper part of his celebrated building. After a course of prudent management, of frugality and assiduous labor, Walton, at the age of fifty years, retired from business, resolving to spend the