begin upon the Admiralty, and it is hard to conceive of a greater dearth of valuable information, or instructive or amusing anecdote, or even of naughty gossip, than we are here called upon to encounter. It is the story of a mere drudge in office, arranging old papers, preserving ancient records, and now and then amusing himself by seeing ships, as he says, "undergo the operation of launching."

The autobiographer begins, according to approved usage, with an account of his birth, parentage, and education. He says that he was the only son of Roger and Mary Barrow, and that "in the extreme northern part of North Lancashire is the market-town of Ulverstone, and not far from it the obscure village of Dragleybeck, in which a small cottage gave him birth," - thereby, doubtless, saving the said Mary much trouble. The first forty years of his life were spent in "rambling, angling, sea-voyages, and pedestrian exercises in foreign countries ; and the next forty mostly "in such sedentary exercise of the mind as is required of a Secretary of the Admiralty." But during this latter period, he has produced "six quarto volumes, four octavos, three or four smaller books, about a dozen articles in the Encyclopædia Britannica, and close upon two hundred articles in the Quarterly Review." "And these," he says, "are the kind of mental exercises that have tended to keep up a flow of health and of animal spirits." Heaven bless him!

After this general account of the book, many extracts from it will not be expected. It is written in a rambling, slipshod style, and at a time when "health and animal spirits " had apparently outlasted the power of much "sedentary exercise of the mind." It abounds in mistakes in regard to matters about which one would have supposed the author to be particularly well informed. He speaks, for instance, of the "Right Hon. Hiley Addington having become Prime Minister" (page 235); thus cheating the Doctor out of his Christian name, which we have always understood to be Henry. He says (page 338), that "the Duke of Wellington was appointed to take the situation of Premier, become vacant by the resignation of Mr. Canning." Mr. Canning did not resign, but died in office; and the Duke did not become Premier until after the intervention of another administration. After these and similar blunders, our good friends of Nantucket will not be scandalized to learn that Admiral Sir Isaac Coffin

went to visit his relations and establish a school at in the St. Lawrence."

We have several specimens of what may be called the bounding style of writing, as, for instance:

"With the above exception, the blessings of peace and prosperity were abundantly shed on the British empire. From the year 1816 to 1818, almost the whole progeny of the royal family and its branches were marrying and given in marriage, and among them his Royal Highness, the Duke of Clarence, was united to her Serene Highness Amelia Adelaide, daughter of the late Duke of Saxe-Meiningen. The Dukes of Kent, Cumberland, and Cambridge each took to himself a German princess. Death, however, was not sparing of its victims. In 1820, George III. died, in the eighty-second year of his age, having lost his queen, Charlotte, two years before. His successor, George IV., in the second year of his reign, visited Ireland, and in 1822 embarked at Greenwich for Scotland, and died in the year 1830, when King William IV. was proclaimed." - pp. 332, 333.

At page 271 we have another specimen of compressed narrative, rapid association, and tender pathos.

"The prosecution [of Melville] hastened, as generally believed, the death of Mr. Pitt, which happened on the 23d of January, 1806, in his forty-seventh year, being of the same age as the immortal Nelson, whose career was cut short on the 5th of October, in the preceding year, and whose remains were deposited in St. Paul's Church the 9th of January, 1806, just fourteen days before Mr. Pitt's death. Another great character, Charles James Fox, expired on the 13th of September, 1806, in the fiftyeighth year of his age. He should have died some fifteen months sooner."

Why poor Fox should have died before his time, or who is in fault for the gross neglect implied in his living so long, is not stated.

Sir John is shocked that Mr. Whitbread should have dared to attack Lord Melville, First Lord of the Admiralty, &c., and flouts at his origin thus: "Mr. Whitbread, a wealthy plebeian brewer, who had aspired to become a Senator (page 265); and quotes some lines of Mr. Canning, (the son of the actress) noting the same baseness of birth. If Thurlow and Eldon had joined in the sneer, the picture would have been complete.

All the author's Admiralty sensibilities are alive upon the

subject of the American naval victories in the war of 1812. He evidently thinks there was some unfairness about this matter on our part, that a Yankee trick was played off upon his countrymen, and is clearly of opinion that if our ships had been much smaller, and our men much fewer, the results would have been different. He thinks the hitherto unsuspecting innocence and ignorance of Great Britain will not again be lulled into a false sense of security upon this subject.

We have an account of a king's after-dinner speech, which, for its novelty, is worth noting. On one occasion, "a few naval officers and civilians," and among them Sir John, were commanded to attend divine service, and dine at the palace with the king (William).

"The queen, with a few ladies, joined the dinner party, and when the queen was about to retire, the king desired that the ladies would stay, as he had something to say on this occasion, that would bring to the recollection of the naval officers then present the battles that their predecessors and brother-officers had fought and won, battles worthy of record, as proving that the naval history of this country had not been neglected or forgotten by succeeding generations.

-

"All being attentive, his Majesty began with noticing the first invasion of Britain by Julius Cæsar, [save the mark!] which he said must have proved to the natives the necessity of a naval force to prevent and repel foreign invasion. From that period he passed on rapidly to the landing of the Danes and Northern nations on our coasts, till he came down to more recent times, when the navy of Great Britain had become great and victorious, from the days of Elizabeth to William III., and thence to our own times; and it was remarked by the officers present how correctly he gave the details of the great actions fought in the course of the last and present centuries. I believe, however, that the queen and the ladies were not displeased to be released."

How sensible women are !

There is something striking in the accounts we find, in all books of this description, of the alienation existing among the various members of the Royal family under the Guelph dynasty. It seems to have become a part of the English constitution, that the heir-apparent should be at war with him who, for the time being, enjoys the "grace of God," — and family quarrels appear to be much more frequent with them than among mortals of lower degree. We have an amusing

instance of paternal kindness and kingly condescension mentioned at page 341. The Duke of Clarence (afterwards William IV.) was Lord High Admiral of England in 1827, and being about to make an official "visitation" of the dockyards in the Royal Sovereign yacht, asked the king that loving brother, faithful husband, and "first gentleman in Europe" to lend him plate ; " which he refused."

The most remarkable thing about this book is, that it almost entirely overlooks the true claim which Barrow has to be remembered and respected. There is no doubt that he was a man of considerable scientific attainment, (so much , so, that, upon that ground, he was made a Doctor of Laws and created a Baronet,) and that he perseveringly and effectually brought it to bear upon those Arctic voyages which have yielded so much honor to those who projected and encouraged, as well as to those who accomplished them. Barrow's long connection with the Admiralty gave him, necessarily, great influence there; his love of adventure turned a facile ear to all new projects of discovery; his love of science gave his views and suggestions great value; and a large share of the honor flowing from the discoveries made undoubtedly belongs to him.

In a letter written to him by Mr. Murdock, it is said :

"During forty years, that you were a Secretary of the Admiralty, you were the constant and the successful advocate of those voyages of discovery which have enlarged the bounds of science, and done so much honor to the British navy and nation. The enduring fortitude and untiring enterprise with which Parry and Ross, and Franklin and Back, braved the rigors of a polar winter and the perils of a frozen sea, will render their names for ever famous in the annals of navigation, and the name of Barrow will be associated with them by posterity."

We do not doubt the truth of this, and cannot but think that Sir John might have given us a much more interesting volume, if he had not missed the true point of interest in his life. As it is, in the discharge of our duty, we call upon our readers to respect him and avoid his book. It is a poor account of a good man, an ill-written story of a practised writer, and a valueless and uninstructive "Life" of one whose life has been both valuable and instructive.

ART. VI. 1. Paracelsus, a Poem. By ROBERT BROWNING. London Effingham Wilson. 1835. pp. 216. 2. Sordello, a Poem. By ROBERT BROWNING. London Edward Moxon. 1840. pp. 253. 3. Bells and Pomegranates.

London: Edward Moxon.

By ROBERT BROWNING.

1841-46.

"HERE we found an old man in a cavern, so extremely aged as it was wonderful, which could neither see nor go because he was so lame and crooked. The Father, Friar Raimund, said it were good (seeing he was so aged) to make him a Christian; so we christened him." The recollection of this pious action doubtless smoothed the pillow of the worthy Captain Francesco de Ulloa under his dying head; and we mention it here, not because of the credit it confers on the memory of that enterprising and Catholic voyager, but because it reminds us of the manner in which the world treats its poets. Each generation makes a kind of death-bed reparation toward them, and remembers them, so to speak, in its will. It wreathes its superfluous laurel commonly round the trembling temples of age, or lays it ceremoniously on the coffin of him who has passed quite beyond the sphere of its verdict. It deifies those whom it can find no better use for, as a parcel of savages agree that some fragment of wreck, too crooked to be wrought into war-clubs, will make a nice ugly god to worship.

Formerly, a man who wished to withdraw himself from the notice of the world, retired into a convent. The simpler modern method is, to publish a volume of poems. The surest way of making one's self thoroughly forgotten and neglected is to strive to leave the world better than we find it. Respectable ghosts find it necessary to cut Shelley till the ban of atheism be taken off, though his son is a baronet, a circumstance, one would think, which ought to have some weight in the land of shadows. Even the religious Byron is forced to be a little shy of him. Mr. Gifford, the ci-devant shoemaker, still sends a shudder through the better classes in Elysium, by whispering that Keats was a stable-boy and the friend of Hunt. Milton, to be sure, was seen shaking hands with him on his arrival; but every body knows what he was. Burns sings rather questionable songs in a corner, with a

No. 139.

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