The Sun.
London, England, 1836-09-29 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

QUARTERLY REVIEW. No. C'XIIL
J. Murray, London, 1836.

With the exception of the tame and elaborate article
on the "Last Session," which we noticed on Tuesday in
The Sun, the present Number of the " Quarterly
Review" is as interesting as any that has appeared for
years. Its great merit is, that it does not appeal, like
the " 'Westminster," to a coterie, but to the public.
It has Essays to suit every taste, except the diseased
one of the quack Utilitarian. The first article, which
we conjecture, from the nature of the subject, to be the
production of Mr. Barrow, of the Admiralty, is a well-
digested abstract of the late expeditions on the river
Amazon, and has only one defect, namely, that it is
nearly, if not altogether silent, on the subject of the
dimensions and general character of this famous stream.
We are told indeed that its banks are in many places
clothed with vast woods, wherein serpents of enormous
size are found, and that after its junction with the
Madeira, it becomes " more like a sea than a river ;"
but of the general character and width of its main
channel, of its depth, of the flow of its current, and
of the sudden storms to which we have heard it
is liable, we are told little or nothing. However, if
the Reviewer is silent on this subject, he expatiates
with considerable minuteness on the peculiarities of the
magnificent scenery to be met with among the Cordil-
leras—scenery to which, we firmly believe, the world
can show no parallel. Captain Hall, we remember,
in his delightful travels in South America, was equally
copious and instructive on this theme. We should
not omit to mention that in the article on the Ama-
zons, the Reviewer gives an extraordinary narrative of
the sufferings of a French lady, who sailed down it
many hundred miles, with a small party of friends and
relatives, for the purpose of joining her husband, then
residing in some savage district on its banks, in the
course of which voyage we are told—
" The canoe, deprived of its helmsman, soon became un-
manageable, and was swamped, but the river being narrow
the party all got on shore. Being only five or six days from
Andoas, the Frenchman and his companion determined to make
their way by land to that place, promising most faithfully that,
in the course of a fortnight at farthest, a boat properly
manned should be sent to bring the rest thither. Five-and-
twenty days, however, having passed away without any tidings
of release, they set about constructing a raft in the best man-
ner they could—placed themselves, their effects, and what
provisions had been saved from the canoe, upon it, and
launched into the stream. The raft, being carried down it
at random, soon struck against a sunken tree, upset, and all
their goods went to the bottom, themselves escaping with
difficulty. Madame Godin twice sunk, but was saved by the
exertions of her brothers.

" Their whole property, with every article of provisions,
being destroyed by this accident, nothing now remained for
them but to traverse on foot the bank of the river, in the hope
of reaching the missionary station of Andoas. The long
long coarse grass, the thick shrubbery, and the multitude of
creeping plants greatly impeding their progress, and the
banks, moreover, winding so as much to prolong the journey,
they determined to strike into the wood, in the hope of
thereby shortening the distance; but in this attempt they were
soon completely bewildered. Excessively fatigued from for-
cing their way through a thick forest, barely pervious even to
its natives, their feet torn by briars and thorns, no sustenance
remaining, oppressed by hunger and thirst, their only re-
source consisted in some seeds, wild fuits, and the palm-
cabbage. At length, utterly worn out and exhausted,
the lady's companions laid themselves down on the ground,
from whence they were doomed never to rise again. There,'
says M. Godin, they were destined to wait for their
last moments ; and in the course of three or four days
the men all expired, the one after the other.' Madame Go-
din, stretched by the side of the dead bodies of her brothers
and servants, remained eight-and-forty hours in a state of
stupor and delirium. At length a merciful Providence, which
decreed her preservation, gave her courage and strength to
crawl along, and to seek for the safety which awaited her.
She was almost naked ; her clothes, torn in tatters by the
thorns and briars, scarcely afforded her any covering ; she had
cut the shoes from her dead brother's feet, and attached their
soles to her own.

" It was on the ninth or tenth day (uncertain which) after
this only surviving sufferer had quitted the place where she
had beheld her brothers and domestics breathe their last, that
she succeeded in reaching once more the shore of the Bor-
bonasa. M. Godin says, what may well be believed—' The
remembrance of the long and horrible spectacle of which she
had been the witness, the horror of the solitude, increased by
the darkness of the nights in the wilderness—the terror of
death constantly before her eyes—a terror which every moment
must have augmented—had made such an impression on her
constitution, as to cause her hair to become grey.' "
" Hall's Schloss Hainfeld" is a notice of an interest-
ing volume which we reviewed some weeks since. In
this volume Captain Hall expressed his firm conviction
that the Countess of Purgstall was the original from
which Sir Walter Scott painted his inimitable portrait
of Diana Vernon, but the Reviewer has considerable
doubt of this, and gives arguments in support of his
disbelief which have also made us sceptical. " Tocque-
ville on the State of America," is evidently the result
of much pains-taking. We object, however, to the
spirit of the article, which, as regards its brief allu-
sions to the " Romish Priesthood," is sophistical, not
to say absurd, in a high degree. The " Mountain
Decameron" is a kindly notice of a book which we
are delighted to see has found favour in the eyes of a
Quarterly Reviewer. A more spirit-stirring col-
lection of tales—more full of character, drawn with
the strictest regard to local truth—more poetic in
its descriptions—more high-toned in its occasional
reflections—and more deeply imbued with tragic
power— has not been published since the " Bride
"Hleesr,mwithViciiicaro"n
once
en
read,par
teifcuLlaarin, miesrmoneeo"'Of Tthhoese tales,
are never forgotten. The last scene of this ro-
mance is as impassioned and as sternly tragic, as even
old Fountaine's terrific sketch of the banquet of
" Atreus and Thyestes." Mr. Downes however has
much to rectify ere he can take rank among the great
novelists of his country. His offences against good
taste are innumerable ; his imagination too is con-
stantly running away with him ; but he has energy
and pathos that convince us in every page, that we are
in the presence of a man of first-rate ability, in his
line. Let him take warning by poor Maturin, and
eschew those faults which have made " Melmoth,"
despite its vivid fancy and deep feeling, a sealed book
to posterity. " Latham on Diseases of the Chest,"
is full of interesting, many of them novel, facts re-
specting the nature of that peculiarly English malady,
consumption. The " Downfall of Heathenism" con-
tains nothing very striking or original.

THE DOCTRINE OF PARTICULAR PROVI•
DENCE ILLUSTRATED AND DEFENDED.
Br alfalfa], PILKINGTON,
Lats Captain, Corps of Royal Engineers.
Effingham Wilson, London, 1836.

These reminiscenses of the life of Captain Pilking

ton are amongst the most extraordinary we remember
to have read. There is nothing very surprising in the
conversion of a man from Deism to the fullest belief in

the doctrines of Christianity ; neither is there anything
remarkable in the fact that converts from infidelity are
generally more rigid in the observance of acts inculcated
by the spirit of true religion, than those who never
doubted its divine origin : but there is something so
very extraordinary in the circumstances attendant upon
Captain Pilkington's conversion—in the severe trials

to which he was subsequently exposed--in the crowd
of misfortunes that beset him on all sides, that it is im-
possible to read this narrative of them without feelings
of strong sympathy and commiseration. Though our
opinions upon religious subjects are as different from
Captain Pilkington's as are those of an Armenian from
a Protestant, nevertheless we are quite willing to give
him the amplest credit for piety and sincerity. We
condemn his enthusiasm, but we respect the motives
in which it originates. We lose sight of the petty
distinctions of jarring sectaries in reviewing the struggles
of the man amid the horrors of expected destitution,
and the agonies of the Christian beset on all sides with
the terrors of doubt and despair. A summary of the
author's life is the best, and, we trust for him, the
most useful criticism that we can pronounce upon his
book :

Captain Pilkington was born in Ireland in 1785.